Confluence at Travis House: and Additional Five Plays

By Ernest McCarty Jr

It is the winter of 1942 in NYC and Travis House, an experimental prison, where convicted women serve out the remainder of their sentences. A new resident, Agnieska Hajek becomes caught up in the secretive goings on at Travis House. Her main concern is the reunification with her son whom she gave birth to in Sivart Women's Penitentiary and was taken from her at three months old.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9781662453083

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Confluence at Travis House

and Additional Five Plays

Ernest McCarty Jr

Copyright © 2022 Ernest McCarty Jr

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-6624-5307-6 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-5308-3 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The Exchange / Recollection Rag

Author's Note

Recollection Rag

A Play in Two Acts

The Exchange / Recollection Rag

Act 1

Act 2

Scene 2

Property Plot

A Cosmic Night

Book by Gwendolyn Brooks and Ernest McCarty

A Cosmic Night

At Rise

A Cosmic Night

A Cosmic Night

A Window to Home

A Play in Two Acts

Cast of Characters

Act 1

Act 2

Outrun the Rain

Act 1

Act 2

Act 2

Tomorrow, I'll Do It Tomorrow

A Monologue

Tomorrow, I'll Do It Tomorrow

About the Author

To my children Byron, Deborah, Brian, Eric, Anthony, and Anita (deceased) and also to my wife, the empress Patricia.

It was an hour ago that she was notified of her early release on parole. She was mildly surprised at the way she responded to the news. There was no fanfare or leaps of youthful jubilation as she had envisioned almost every day for the past eighteen years. No, there was no rush, and her heart didn't beat any faster. But something has been stirring inside her like the hot, molten rock inside a caldero. She has kept a lid on it, never allowing an explosion to happen, but she can feel it. It is heat.

She sat motionless on her bed while anxiety grew. Was she prepared to face the outside world? A world she hasn't been a part of since she was nineteen. She went over and looked through the small window of her cell at the falling snow. And soon, she would be out there. Being imprisoned at Sivart for so long, she had grown used to being supervised. She had been told what to eat and where to eat, when to sleep and where. She knew what to do, who she could talk to, and who to avoid. There was a certain order about things, and the daily routine regulated her existence. Now she was about to face a different existence, a new reality. Anything would be better than being here at Sivart. She finally was able to take a deep breath. She could hear the heavy boots of the guards getting louder and louder until the sound stopped just outside her cell.

She stood frozen, her back to the cell door. Agnieska Hajek, a voice boomed. It startled her to hear her own name. Yes. I am Agnieska Hajek. She could hear the sound of the cold metal keys unlocking the door. She slowly turned around. In her mind, there played out various scenarios, a panorama of paranoid scenes. Maybe I'm being taken away to be shot or maybe I'll be put back into the pit for hanging. The audacity to think that they would ever let me go after what I did. Come with us. With a bowed head and never looking at them, she walked toward them. She was almost to the cell door when the guard reminded her about her packed suitcase that was still laying open on the bed. Agnieska could hear intermittent screaming coming from the floor below. Some screams were from women being beaten or tortured, and some screams came from women inmates who were being sexually abused. Sivart was not only a harsh maximum security women's prison that (trafficked) in all sorts of contraband, but it also served as a bordello for the male guards and others, including some of the matrons. This went on day and night, more so at night when the sexual favors of the special female inmates were sold to city officials and local business men. In turn, these special inmates received perks, like no prison jobs to do and alcohol and cigarettes and opium. It was an all-too-familiar sound that she had learned to tune out, but sometimes it was impossible to do, like now. All she wanted to do was to get away from Sivart no matter what awaited her on the outside.

Two snarling matrons escorted Agnieska to the prison bus depot where the prison bus was waiting to take her to an experimental, low-security prison—Travis House.

Trickles of snowflakes fell on her face as she struggled to see into the glare of the outside. Her eyes were not accustomed to so much light, and she experienced a whiteout. She was actually blind for a few moments. Her eyes were watering as she felt her way onto the bus. Agnieska had never felt more vulnerable as she did now. Everything was moving so fast as she sat alone on the bus.

Sivart Women's Prison was just about thirty miles outside New York City, and the bus traveled down winding roads with snow-covered trees with some trees bending under the weight of the snow, forming abstract shapes like modern sculptures. She was like a child seeing snow for the first time. Farmhouse and silos dotted the snowy landscape. There was a fairy-tale-like quality about the scene, like pictures a child would see in some children's book or on a Christmas card. She settled into her seat and took it all in. All she had seen for the past nineteen years were concrete walls and metal barbs that always seemed to be wet. At this moment, if she was at Sivart, she would be working in the prison library, cataloging books returned by some of the women prisoners—those who could read. A woman with an education or simply being able to read was considered a threat to the male-dominated society controlled by old heads who wanted things to stay the way things had always been. Agnieska taught some of her fellow inmates to read. It gave them a sense of pride, value, and self-worth from being able to read a book. The prison establishment viewed this renaissance as something to fear, and therefore, it needed to be suppressed. Agnieska became the face of and the cause of this cancer placed upon the body of man by this troublemaker. Maybe a week or two in the pit, she'll come to her senses. The prison guards chuckled. It had been effected in the past. The pit had broken many a spirit. The pit has made some women sheepish, and with others, the effect was quite different. Some women had sunken into madness and hallucinated about being eaten by bugs and rats. Some inmates became such a problem and had to be disposed of. From time to time, the unmistakable smell of burning human flesh would warf up from below, and you could taste it in your mouth. She, too, was different when she came up from the pit. Although she was only in the pit for ten days, it seemed like years. Although she was only twenty at the time of her incarceration, she had aged. Sivart had taken her youth. Now she only thought about maybe seeing her child again. This was her reason for holding on enduring the whip and lash. Others weren't so fortunate. Some of the inmates had nothing to hold on to—no purpose to being alive. Death was a way out. She looked out of the bus window at the snow falling and saw her face reflected and superimposed against it in the glass. Farms had given way to small villages and towns. The snowy streets and houses were beginning to look like the Christmas season. Agnieska had begun to relax. She was tired, and the bus was warm. She drifted off. She slept through towns and Main Streets decorated with banners, garlands, snowmen, and Christmas trees.

Travis House, the bus driver announced. Agnieska slid out of her seat, grabbed her suitcase, and stepped off the bus and onto the sidewalk. She stood facing a large brick building with Travis House carved in concrete above a large, wooden door. People hurried past her, all hell-bent against the wind and snow, and no one seemed to notice her. It was as if she was invisible. She just stood there staring at the door. She could hear the bus pulling away from the curb. It splashed some of the slush from the street onto her legs, snapping her out of her daze. Agnieska walked toward the big, wooden door side, stepping passersby until she reached the steps leading up to the large, wooden doors. The doors opened onto what looked like the lobby of an old hotel. The registration desk was piled high with linen and blankets. On the other side of the lobby, there were chairs stacked atop of tables, there were small tables upon which were stacked outdated magazines and newspapers, and there was a dimly lit multiarmed chandelier hung overhead. The sound of knocking, banging, and rattling could be heard coming from the floor above a group of inmates descending down the stairs who were engaged in a heated argument.

A woman shouted, You're a thief! They were carrying buckets, mops, and cleaning rags.

How was I to know that this was your bucket? Is your name on it?

You didn't fill it, did you? The other inmate replied.

Always trying to put something over on someone.

They volleyed back and forth while struggling with their buckets, mops, brooms, and cleaning rags until they spotted her. And like a family having a dispute and then a stranger appeared, they all became one again, united against the stranger. Three of the inmates approached her slowly. It brought back memories of her first days at Sivart. They surrounded Agnieska, taunting her with questions and asking, What are you in for? There was one inmate who said nothing. She just stood, leaning against the railing, observing her while the others continued to taunt and posture. From her pervious experiences, Agnieska could tell that she was the alpha female of the pride, so she spoke to her.

I'm looking for a Mister Charles DeForest.

Oh, yes. You must be the new one. Her raspy voice stilled the others as she approached. Mr. DeForest isn't here at the moment. Come with me.

She turned and started ascending the curved staircase, which creaked with every step. Agnieska followed her up the stairs. This place didn't resemble a prison in any way. Travis House was beautiful when it first opened in 1911 as a luxury residential hotel. The City of New York seized the property when the proprietors fell delinquent on taxes due to the effects of the Great War on the economy. Residences such as Travis House could no longer remain solvent with declining occupancy and dwindling resources. It stood in disrepair for years while the politicians haggled over what to do with it. The commissioner of the state's prison system convinced the city council and Mayor La Guardia to convert Travis House into a women's facility. It was intended that Travis House would be a bridge between being incarcerated and reentering society as productive citizens.

Chelba and Agnieska made it to the top of the staircase and proceeded down a long hallway, passing a series of doors until they reached room 2B. Agnieska was surprised that her room would be on a lower floor instead of one of the upper floors, but she didn't question it or dwell on the thought. Compared to the place she came from, this was luxurious.

We did the best we could to get the room ready for you given the short notice. Nothing much we could do about the peeling paint, and the curtains won't ever be white again.

Agnieska told her that everything was fine and introduced herself, I'm Agnieska, Agnieska Hajek.

Oh, and I'm Chelba.

Agnieska walked about examining the room, her room. She examined the sink, the closet, and the bed. She could feel Chelba watching her and looking away when Agnieska looked in her direction. She sat on the bed that felt like it would swallow her. She didn't feel springs biting into her butt, and she noticed that the windows had no metal bars. I'll leave you to get settled in. Someone will be back to take you to Mr. DeForest's office when he returns, Chelba spoke as she left the room and closed the door behind her. Privacy was something Agnieska hadn't had in almost twenty years. There was always someone peeping in to see what may be going on. Agnieska laid back on the bed, her mind racing. She was thinking about all that had to be done and all that she's been through to wind up here at Travis House where she odds of survival have improved greatly. She thought to herself, Maybe there is a God, a God that I could believe in again to give myself over to. Maybe my prayers will be answered and not just utterances stuck to the ceiling. Agnieska got up off the bed and started unpacking her suitcase.

On top was a baby's blanket, the same blanket she wrapped her newborn son in after he was born. She paused, clutching the blanket to her bosom, and Agnieska began to cry. She cried into it the way she had done so many times at Sivart. After being released from the shackles in the pit and after every rape, she would come back to her cell and cry into the blanket. She thought about her husband who couldn't cope with the whispers and the fact that his wife was in prison for second-degree murder. His feelings of shame and the ostracism he endured finally took its toll on him. He sank into the abyss of drunkenness and despair. His lifeless body was discovered in an opium den where he had spent so many days and nights in a stupor in an attempt to ease his pain. Her mother-in-law had been raising her son ever since he was taken from her. She was feeling sorry for herself again but couldn't allow pity and guilt to paralyze her. Agnieska continued to press the blanket against her bosom as she thought about her son and wondered how he looked now. Did he have his father's broad shoulders and his smile? Was he still living at his grandmother's apartment? Maybe he has a wife. The only mother he had ever known was Granny. Why would he want or need a woman who had been behind bars for all her adult years and all of his? Agnieska did not feel that she was worthy of being a mother just because she gave birth. Yes, there are men who father children and women who give birth, but they are not parents. They possess neither the feel nor desire to give up the lifestyle that a child interrupts. In Agnieska's case, it was her maternal instincts that were at the root of her anguish. And what if I find him? she thought. What then? What would he want with me? What does he need me for? She was spiraling downward again. Maybe I should just let it be. His life is set. And I would upset it. All I would be doing is wrecking his life just to satisfy my wants and needs. Although Agnieska gave birth, she felt that giving birth didn't give her the right to disrupt her son's life or cause him pain.

Someone was knocking at the door. It caused her to freeze. She became rigid while she waited for the metal keys unlocking the cell door. The knocking came again, and this time, no one barged in.

Who is it? Agnieska uttered.

A small voice said, Miss Hajek, Mr. DeForest wants to see you downstairs in his office. Agnieska went to the door and slowly opened it. There stood an Asian woman, an inmate like her. She bowed slowly. So sorry. I am to take you to Mr. DeForest's office. Her small, gentle voice had a calming effect on Agnieska. I'll wait outside until you are ready.

The Asian woman bowed again and closed the door. There were two stacks of old newspapers in the corner. There were newspapers dating back to spring. She was glad that whoever had occupied this room didn't throw them out. Agnieska had read every book in the library at Sivart, and she had spent time in the pit for teaching other inmates how to read. After many months, some inmates could read well enough to ask questions about what they had read. The warden and some of his staff took a dim view of this. What need would there be for a woman to read? Cooking, cleaning, and laying down with a man doesn't require much education, only compliance. And when the books were taken away, some of the women inmates lodged their complaint, only to join Agnieska in the pit. Agnieska hid some of the old newspapers under her mattress and others beneath the bed. She went over to the mirror over the sink to arrange her appearance before meeting Mr. DeForest. It wasn't as if Mr. DeForest didn't know who she was or where she came from, so she decided to go now. Keeping Mr. DeForest waiting would be getting off on the wrong foot no matter how she looked. She rushed away from the mirror and down the stairs escorted by the messenger who was waiting outside in the hallway.

*****

Antonin Hajek, a young man not quite twenty, stood looking out of a window onto the street. Below, his face had a stern expression of determination, especially in his eyes. He paced back and forth as if trying to figure out an answer to some unspoken question. He looked fit and able in his Navy uniform as if he had stepped out of one of those posters seen all over the city—Uncle Sam Wants You! America was no longer abstaining from the war ever since the Pearl Harbor attacks. Antonin enlisted in spite of his grandmother's trepidations and hand wringing. Granny sat quietly, rocking back and forth in her rocking chair, looking at the grandson she raised alone since the day Sivart took him from Agnieska. There was no help from Antonin's father who was carrying the weight of his shame knowing that his wife had killed a man who attempted to sexually assault her. She was three months pregnant when the attempted assault occurred, but in his mind, maybe she had been unfaithful before then, so maybe the baby wasn't his. After a while, he had come to believe it. He got into brawls in various taverns when comments were made about his wife's imprisonment and why she was there. Granny suffered throughout the downward spiral of her son all the while raising his son. In a few days, Antonin will be shipping out. The tiny baby boy that she had rescued from Sivart, the baby boy she fed and worried over every time he would come home bleeding from a fight he had at school, was going off to war. Granny watched Antonin pacing. He knew that his mother was released from Sivart, but there was no mention as to what women's facility she was sent. The newspapers didn't say, but they