NIGHT MEN
ROBERT NERSESIAN

CHARACTERS 

MOUSE – a park maintenance man - early thirties, small, gentle,  willing 

BILLY – also a park maintenance man - early thirties, tall,  alpha, calculating 

THE BOY – twelve years old – bold, unafraid, energetic 

​

SETTING 

Night, the park, a lamp post, a bench—all in Dublin, Ireland

In the darkness we hear footsteps and see beams  

from a flashlight. Mouse and Billy enter from  

stage left. Each is carrying a large tool bag 

slung over his shoulder. Billy also carries a  

step ladder. Mouse carries a flashlight. 

​

BILLY 

Christ almighty. Fucking genius. 

​

MOUSE 

I know. 

​

BILLY 

Fucking boy genius supervisor. 

​

MOUSE 

Night maintenance. 

​

BILLY 

“Oh, you’re going on the night shift, Billy” he says. “You and Mouse are going to fix stuff at night.” 

​

MOUSE 

Where’s the fucking union when you need them? 

​

BILLY 

Elbows on the bar, third round. Never done a damn thing for me,  you know. 

Billy sets up the ladder at the base of the lamppost. 

You want to go up? 

​

MOUSE 

Right. 

​

BILLY 

Go on. 

​

Mouse gives Billy the flashlight. While Billy  

illuminates the top of the lamp post, Mouse  

climbs the ladder and begins to remove the lamp. 

​

MOUSE 

Uh. Christ. So tight! 

​

BILLY 

Need lube? 

​

MOUSE 

Christ. How many times we been fixin’ this post over the years? 

​

BILLY 

Lots. 

​

MOUSE 

Shine your torch a little this ways. Oof! Why’s the damn lamp so tight? I’ve opened this jezebel up plenty times. 

​

Mouse gets the lamp bulb off. 

​

BILLY 

Ah, there you go. 

​

MOUSE 

(Hands the burned-out lamp to Billy.) Give me the new girl. 

​

BILLY 

Right. (Goes into his bag. Puts the old lamp in and gets a new lamp. He hands it up to Mouse. Mouse rotates the lamp into  place.) 

Easiest thing you ever screwed, right? 

​

MOUSE 

(Quietly.) Yeah, right. 

​

The lamp illuminates. 

​

BILLY 

She loved it! 

​

Billy turns off the flashlight. Mouse comes down the ladder. 

​

MOUSE 

Probably be back in a month. Cheap lousy lamps. 

​

BILLY 

(Looking around.) Eh, you bring anything warm?

​

MOUSE 

In my bag. 

​

Billy goes to Mouse’s bag, rummages around, and pulls out a small bottle of whisky. He’s about to take a swig but stops and looks around again. 

​

What you see? 

​

BILLY 

Just want to make sure the boy genius isn’t around. You know, checking on us. 

​

MOUSE 

He’s snarkin’ in his bed. Too late for fucking management to be up. 

​

BILLY 

I suppose. (Takes a swig from the bottle, sits on the bench, then offers the bottle to Mouse.) Here. 

​

MOUSE 

(Mouse takes the bottle and a large swig from it. Sits on the bench feeling the effect of the whisky.) Not too nippy out. 

​

BILLY 

Not too. When we first come to this park? 

​

MOUSE 

Twenty years, least. 

​

BILLY 

Christ, we were boys. (Eyes the whisky bottle in Mouse’s hand.) Don’t be keeping it. 

​

MOUSE 

(Takes another swig and hands the bottle to Billy.) Boys. (Looks  out over the audience.) There’s the pitch. 

​

BILLY 

(Taking a swig.) Yeah. Lot of matches we played. 

​

MOUSE 

Remember the one against the Warriors?

​

BILLY 

I remember. You put the ball in twice. 

​

MOUSE 

That I did. 

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BILLY 

I had twenty saves. 

​

MOUSE 

Twelve.  

​

BILLY 

What are you talking about? Twenty and more! 

​

MOUSE 

It was twelve. 

​

BILLY 

Says you. (Looks over at his tool bag.) Tell you what. (Stands up, crosses to his tool bag, opens it, takes out a football, and  tosses it to Mouse.) Yeah, you didn’t think I’d carry it with me, did you Mouse Man? Go on. Try to get it past. 

​

Mouse laughs and begins to dribble the ball. He  

tries to get it past Billy, but Billy blocks  

Mouse with his body. Mouse spins away from him,  

still dribbling, then kicks it past Billy stage right. 

​

MOUSE 

Aaaaghhhhh! Yes! 

​

BILLY 

You kicked it clear into the trees.  

​

MOUSE 

That I did. 

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BILLY 

Well, you’d better go get it. 

​

MOUSE 

(Looks apprehensively out into the distance stage right.) Me? No, not me. You know what’s there.

​

BILLY 

‘Course I know. It’s where we put Tommy. So what? Just go get the ball. 

​

MOUSE 

I won’t.  

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BILLY 

Christ. What is it? 

​

MOUSE 

The dreams. I still have the fucking dreams. 

​

BILLY 

Well, get over them. Tommy had it coming. He tattled on my dad. Not for him, Dad wouldn’t have rotted away in a cell. 

​

MOUSE 

Tommy had something coming, but what we did . . . 

​

BILLY 

Just . . . get . . . the . . . ball. 

​

MOUSE 

We ever going to make things right? 

​

BILLY 

(Incredulous.) What? 

​

MOUSE 

I don’t know. Clean the slate? Make it up to his folks? 

​

BILLY 

Make it up . . . (Sighs.) You think I’m going to knock on their door, tell them to call the police ‘cause I’m the one that did their boy? 

​

MOUSE 

We did. Together. 

​

BILLY 

You better think, Mouse. Think long and hard about dying in a cell like my dad.

MOUSE 

I can’t sleep. I need to square things.

​

BILLY 

Look, get the ball, come back, we’ll talk about it. Good? 

​

MOUSE 

Alright. (Exits stage right.) 

​

Billy watches him go, then crosses to his tool  

bag. He rummages around and pulls out a large  

folding knife. He opens it and tucks it behind  

him into his belt and under his jacket. He then  

sits down on the bench. Mouse enters stage right. 

​

BILLY 

Where’s the ball? 

​

MOUSE 

Couldn’t find it. 

​

BILLY 

Why didn’t you take the torch? 

​

MOUSE 

Forgot. 

​

BILLY 

Jesus, Mary, and . . . okay, forget about the damn ball. Here, take a swig. (Offers Mouse the bottle.) 

​

MOUSE 

(Sitting, taking the bottle.) Sorry, I just can’t stay in those woods. (Looks stage right, lost in his thoughts.) That night, when we . . . sorry . . . it’s the fucking dreams, Billy. Twenty years on, I still see that face. The way he looked at us when he knew we had him.  

​

Billy draws the knife silently from behind him while Mouse speaks. It was the eyes, Billy. Wild. Like a rabbit. I see them. I hear him. Billy gets ready to plunge the knife into Mouse’s neck. Suddenly, from stage right, the football rolls slowly onto the stage followed by a boy. Both Billy and Mouse are startled. Billy quickly tucks the knife back into his belt.

​

THE BOY 

Eh, look what I found! 

​

BILLY 

You scared us, you little . . . Jesus! What are you doing out  here? 

​

THE BOY 

Playing in the park. What are you doing? 

​

BILLY 

That’s our business. You’re not supposed to be out here! 

​

MOUSE 

That’s our ball. 

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THE BOY 

Yeah? Well . . . I found it. I brought it back to you. 

​

MOUSE 

Why are you here at night? 

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THE BOY 

Don’t know. Parents let me. 

​

BILLY 

So, where they at? 

​

THE BOY 

Home. 

​

BILLY 

Home. That’s great. Great parents. Kid out at night. 

​

MOUSE 

Go on then. What’s your name? 

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THE BOY 

I don’t have to tell you! 

​

MOUSE 

I want to know in case we have to report you. 

​

THE BOY 

I’m not telling you.

​

BILLY 

TELL HIM YOUR GOD DAMN NAME! 

​

THE BOY 

IT’S TOMMY! 

​

Silence. 

​

MOUSE 

(Shocked.) What? 

​

THE BOY 

I just told you. 

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BILLY 

(Shaken.) Get out. Go home or we’ll take you in. 

​

THE BOY 

(Unafraid.) Are you policemen? 

​

BILLY 

Move your ass! Out! 

​

THE BOY 

Shits. (He turns around and dashes off stage right.) 

​

MOUSE 

You heard him? 

​

BILLY 

Million kids named Tommy. So? 

​

MOUSE 

Billy . . . 

​

BILLY 

Shut your gob. (Lifts the bottle toward Mouse.) You want another swig? 

​

MOUSE 

No.  

​

BILLY 

Okay. The job’s finished here.  

​

MOUSE 

(Quietly.) I don’t think it’s finished.

​

BILLY 

Stand up. Get your bag. Go to the truck. 

​

MOUSE 

What about . . . 

​

BILLY 

What about nothing? Nothing happened here. The lamp’s fixed. Go on then. 

Mouse reluctantly rises from the bench. He takes his bag. He looks stage right but sees nothing. He takes a look at Billy and then exits stage left. 

​

Billy looks around, wondering if anyone else is in the park. Then he spies the bottle of whisky that Mouse left on the bench. He unscrews the cap and takes a long swig. He feels the alcohol course through him. He screws the cap back on and  places the bottle in his bag. He sighs, looks around one more time, and spies the football. He looks down at it, wondering whether he should put it back in his tool bag. Then, he kicks it off stage right, back into the woods. He turns, grabs his tool bag, and exits stage left. 

​

We hear the sound of a truck starting up and leaving the park. 

​

The boy enters stage right, running, holding the football. He stops short at the bench. He is feral, a predator. He breathes excitedly and smiles confidently. He points in the direction where the men have gone. Then, he runs off stage left pursuing the truck, Mouse, and Billy. 

​

The sound of the truck fades out. Lights fade out. 

​

Curtain.