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He pushed out the door to the parking lot, leaving the old janitor/night watchman alone in the building.

The next day when Dominic Kazan awoke, he felt somehow changed, but there was nothing he could think of which would explain the feeling. He had no memory of the previous night’s experience, other than a nagging question in his mind. It was a crazy idea he must have been dreaming about, but there was something he wanted to know.

That afternoon, before going down to the Barclay, Dominic stopped at the City Office Building to speak to some people in the records division of the Department of Urban Planning. They were as cooperative as bureaucrats can be, and after more than two hours of hassling around, Dominic chanced upon a few intriguing facts.

In the theater that evening after the performance, Dominic went about his duties. As stage manager, he had to make certain that all the props were back in place for the next show, that the set was restored to precurtain readiness; and that all the light and sound cues were in the proper order in the technician’s booth. He went through his tasks slowly, waiting for the rest of the Barclay personnel to depart the large building. Entering the main auditorium, Dominic walked down the aisle and sat in the first row of the orchestra seats. A silence pervaded the place as he closed his eyes, letting his thoughts run free. His discovery at the Department of Urban Planning kept replaying in his mind—the proscenium stage of the Barclay occupied the very same space that was once filled by his parents’ house in the middle of the old neighborhood block.

Dominic opened his eyes slowly, focusing on the stage. As though on cue, the lights heated up, gradually filling the set with hard illumination. But this time, he did feel fear as much as anticipation. He felt like he was about to embark upon a long-awaited trip.

Dominic looked up to see his familiar living room warming under the stage lights. …

The door opened and his father entered the room. He wore his usual work clothes, carried an evening paper and his lunch pail. Normally a quick-moving, broad-shouldered man who seemed to radiate force and raw power, Joseph Kazan appeared stooped and oddly defeated.

FATHER

Louisa! Louisa, where are you?

There was no immediate reply and he shrugged as he moved to his favorite chair. He began to open his folded newspaper, then threw it to the floor in disgust. A door opened at stage left and Dominic’s mother appeared carrying a dish towel.

MOTHER

Joseph? What are you doing home so early?

Joseph looked at her with anger in his eyes, his lips curled back slightly. Suddenly the anger drained away from him. Looking away from his wife, he spoke with great effort.

FATHER

We got laid off again today … Got mad at my foreman. I left after he told us all not to come in tomorrow morning.

There was a pained expression in his mother’s face.

MOTHER

Why do they always do this right before

Christmas? It’s not fair.

FATHER

I’ll have to find somethin’ quick. We got bills to keep up. Nobody’s hirin’ now, though … the bastards!

His mother moved to his father’s chair, put a hand on his shoulder.

MOTHER

Well, we’ve gotten by before … we’ll do it again.

Joseph shook his head, slapped his leg absently.

FATHER

Some husband I been! A man’s spozed to take care of things! Take care of his family better’n this!

The door at stage center opened and an adolescent version of Dominic entered the room. He was carrying a stack of books under his arm, his parka under the other.

BOY

Hi, Mom … hey, Dad, what’re you doing home early?

FATHER

(ignoring the question)

Where you been?

BOY

We had a rehearsal after school. Just got finished.

(to his mother)

Can I have an apple or something, Mom?

FATHER

Rehearsal-what? Another one of them plays?

BOY

C’mon, Dad, you know I’m doing a play for the one-act contest at school. I wrote it myself,