From Page to Poe: The Adaptation of 'Three Skeleton Key' to Radio

The rats in the nighttime. With the coming of darkness we lit the light, and the turning beam completely maddened the beasts. As the light turned, it successively blinded thousands of rats crowded against the glass, while the dark side of the lantern-room gleamed with thousands of points of light, burning like the eyes of jungle beasts in the night.	The rats in the nighttime. JEAN (narrates): It was getting dark. One side of the room was lit in a soft filtered red. Sunset through the rats. Oh, ho. Very pretty. I set the wicks, checked my fuel and then lit the lamp. The rats CHITTER loudly. JEAN (narrates): It caught them, lit them in their gigantic wriggling web of pale, hairless bellies, twitching red tails, bright eyes. Then I started the rotary motor. The motor STARTS. The mechanism CLICKS. The rats' SHRIEKS rise up and down, like as the rotating light hits them. JEAN (narrates): The light drove them mad as she swung slowly and smoothly about. It blinded them in the fierce, stabbing bar of light, moving continually about, ever turning, ever touching, ever moving around and around. And they, twisting and stuttering, eyes flaming when they were struck by the light. The bright light moving and, behind, on the dark side of the room, so close -- so close I dared not turn my back but you cannot help turning your back when you're in a room made of glass -- on the dark side of the room, you could not see them. Only their eyes. Thousands of points of blank red light, blinking and twinkling like the stars of hell!
In the story, their ordeal lasts for six days and seven nights. Then Le Gleo became morose and had nightmares in which he could see the three skeletons dancing around him, gleaming coldly, seeking to grasp him. His maniacal, raving descriptions were so vivid that Itchoua and I began seeing them also.	Light keeper Auguste goes mad the very next day. JEAN (narrates): Louis relieved me at ten but I didn't get much sleep that night and when I came up into the gallery early next morning, there stood Auguste, his back to me. He was bowing to the rats, waving his arms and making a speech! AUGUSTE: My dear, dear audience. I am going to play once again that magnificent role which made me the toast of the Paris theatre. Praylatte, the evil genius of the medieval underworld. I am he who did guide the dark soul of the Maraschal into the nether parts. (cackles maniacally) Do not be frightened, little children. I will not hurt you. Much. JEAN (narrates): I stood, staring at him, horror-struck. But he didn't notice me. The man had gone mad. He kept turning, telling his stories to all the rats, leaving no one out. (to Auguste) Auguste! Auguste! AUGUSTE (to Jean): Ah! Another one. A latecomer. Take a seat on the aisle, dear patron. JEAN: Auguste! Stop it! Stop it! AUGUSTE (to an imaginary patron): Move over there. Let the gentleman be seated. JEAN (narrates): But he didn't stop. He went on, bowing and scraping to the rats. His big blue eyes rolling and winking, his wild red hair waving about him. I grabbed him by the arms, slapped his face. Multiple SLAPS to the face. JEAN (narrates): He looked at me like a child. And then his face screwed up. He looked as though he were about to cry. (harshly, to Auguste) Go below. Go on. AUGUSTE: Very well, then. (to the rats) Later, my dear audience, later. Matinee today.
Toudouze has his light-keepers teasing the rats before Le Gleo goes mad (before the incident related above). The next day we were calmer, and amused ourselves by teasing the rats, placing our faces against the glass which separated us. They could not fathom the invisible barrier which separated them from us, and we laughed as we watched them leaping against the heavy glass.	The keepers tease the rats, and Poe gives Auguste and Louis their best lines. JEAN (narrates): Sure, he was crazy. I guess we all were. A few hours later, he came back up and caught Louis and me teasing the rats. Yes. Sounds horrible? (laughing) It was fun. We would get right up against the glass and make faces at them. It drove them crazy. They would scratch away, trying to get at our eyes. Louis was even cuter about it. He'd pull a piece of bread out of his pocket and press it against the glass. The rats would scramble into a solid ball, biting each other, clustering like grapes. From time to time, a whole knot of them would slip and fall the hundred ten feet to the surf below. LOUIS: Ha ha! Look at the sharks. JEAN: They're eating them! LOUIS: Yeah, the sharks are our friends! Here, here. I'll get another bunch together. Ha ha ha! (to the rats) Here, my beauties. That's it. The rats SHRIEK and SCRATCH loudly. LOUIS (to the rats): Pile up! Kill each other! Ha ha ha! The rats' SHRIEKS suddenly fall away. LOUIS: There they go! JEAN (narrates): Auguste joined in, too. Oh, very ingenious, Auguste. He learned that if he spread-eagled himself against the glass, they'd bunch and bundle against his figure. Then he'd leap back... AUGUSTE: Look! My portrait... in rats!