Playwrights for Tomorrow: v. 6: A Collection of Plays

Playwrights for Tomorrow VOLUME 6

The Thing Itself BY ARTHUR SAINER

The Marriage Test BY JONATHAN GILLMAN

The End of the World; or, Fragments from a Work in Progress BY KEITH NEILSON

EDITED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION, BY A R T H U R H. B A L L E T

PLAYWRIGHTS FOR TOMORROW A Collection of Plays, Volume 6

THE U N I V E R S I T Y OF M I N N E S O T A P R E S S

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MINNEAPOLIS

© Copyright 1969 by the University of Minnesota The Thing Itself © Copyright 1967 by Arthur Sainer. The Marriage Test © Copyright 1968 by Jonathan Gillman. The End of the World; or, Fragments from a Work in Progress © Copyright 1967, 1969 by Keith Neilson. Printed in the United States of America at the Lund Press, Minneapolis

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 66-19124

CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that all plays in this volume, being fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, the British Empire, the Dominion of Canada, and all other countries of the Berne and Universal Copyright Conventions, are subject to royalty arrangements. These plays are presented here for the reading public only, and all performance rights, including professional, amateur, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, and radio and television broadcasting, and the rights of translation into foreign languages are strictly reserved. Particular emphasis is laid on readings, permission for which must be secured in writing. All inquiries concerning these rights should be addressed to the author or his agent as named in the note appearing at the beginning of each play.

PUBLISHED IN GREAT BRITAIN, INDIA, AND PAKISTAN BY THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS, LONDON, BOMBAY, AND KARACHI, AND IN CANADA BY THE COPP CLARK PUBLISHING CO. LIMITED, TORONTO

INTRODUCTION by Arthur H. Ballet page 3 THE THING ITSELF by Arthur Sainer page 7 THE MARRIAGE TEST by Jonathan Gillman page 43 THE END OF THE WORLD; OR, FRAGMENTS FROM A WORK IN PROGRESS by Keith Neilson page 67

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Playwrights for Tomorrow VOLUME 6

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INTRODUCTION

Arthur H. Ballet

IN THE five years since the Rockefeller Foundation and the University of Minnesota, together with the National Endowment for the Arts and the McKnight Foundation, conceived and underwrote the Office for Advanced Drama Research (O.A.D.R.), thousands of new plays have been read and evaluated. Some of these plays circulated among the cooperating theatres and were eventually selected for developmental rehearsals and productions. An unexpectedly large number of playwrights have benefited from their residence under O.A.D.R.'s auspices and have since moved into the mainstream of American — and international — theatre. Volumes 5 and 6 include a selection of work we did in 1967-68; the range is wide and representative of some major currents in new writing for the theatre. These books, we hope, will be as representative and as vital as the preceding four volumes, which introduced James Schevill, Megan Terry, Elizabeth Johnson, Terrence McNally, Maria Irene Fornes, Nick Boretz, Lee H. Kalcheim, John Lewin, Jean-Claude van Itallie, Romeo Muller, John Stranack, Philip Barber, Mary Feldhaus-Weber, Barry Pritchard, Arnold Powell, and Kevin O'Morrison. When the first four volumes were issued, we could not include for a variety of reasons a number of writers with whom we had worked, such as Sam Shepard, James Lineberger, Rochelle Owens, Alfred Levinson, and Herbert Lieberman; with Volumes 5 and 6 some writers are again not included: Karl Tunberg, Bernard Sabath, Sherwin Howard, and others. Five plays are included in these latest anthologies: two in Volume 5 and three in Volume 6. The End of the World by Keith Neilson was the first play provided with 3

ARTHUR H. BALLET facilities under the O.A.D.R. outside the Minneapolis-St. Paul area in an attempt to see if the program could work at long distance as well as it has at home. The play, the playwright, and the O.A.D.R. were blessed with a wonderful company, theatre, and audience at the Playhouse in the Park, Cincinnati, Ohio, and above all with a dedicated and talented director in Brooks Jones. Neilson teaches at Elmhurst College, is active in Chicago's Hull House theatre groups, and is a continuous creator in theatre. A graduate-student enterprise, the AnyPlace Theatre, in the summer of 1968 turned Minnesota into commedia delFarte territory by carrying plays to the people in the streets. It was, by all measures, enormously successful, and it can be most proud that it presented works of two new writers, with the aid of the O.A.D.R. Fred Gaines is himself a graduate student and an exciting, prolific new writer in the theatre. The New Chautauqua is one of his best works (and perhaps one of the best pieces O.A.D.R. has worked with): part commedia, part protest, part entertainment, part commitment, and part sheer, marvelous theatre. Jonathan Gillman's The Marriage Test is a rare and sparkling work for the stage: a classic farce. Like Gaines, Gillman is a graduate student in theatre and has been a McKnight Fellow in playwriting at the Minnesota Theatre Company. Arthur Sainer, who teaches at Bennington College, represents a new wave in theatrical writing, the semi-improvisational piece which really takes on life only in production, but which also speaks with a voice as old and honorable as theatre itself. The Firehouse Theatre, with its unique and skillful dedication to innovative theatre, brought The Thing Itself to exciting production for enthusiastic audiences. Without intending or implying condescension, it is quite safe to say that Sarah Koebnick is the rarest of all theatre birds: a primitive who is both a skilled writer and a keen observer. Her tradition is not modern, unless Ibsen is still considered a modernist, but her awareness and her ability to create touching characters and situations are qualities seldom evident in what comes into our office. Her play, Fair Beckoning One, is about a century away from the work of a Gaines or a Sainer, but her compassion is very "with it." New writing for the theatre is not, then, limited to one kind of theatre or even to what is blithely but meaninglessly called experimental theatre. It ranges far, wide, and sometimes handsomely. It's what makes the theatre vital and always surprising. 4

INTRODUCTION

These volumes represent the latest stage of our function at O.A.D.R.; we believe we have found a viable, perhaps even significant, modus operandi. Our next step will be to extend the program into the national scene by working with a variety of theatres across the country: professional repertory and stock companies, educational theatres, and community groups. As we find more theatres willing and able to work with new writers, the program will expand, providing theatres with the stimulus of new scripts and writers with the experience and the showcase of the theatres. Further, we hope, albeit in a limited fashion, to give those writers who have worked in the program additional aid: we hope to make available small grants to help them obtain advice from experts in fields with which the writers may wish to become familiar; and, most important, we will offer to the writers continuing concern for and interest in their professional and artistic advancement. For the playwrights, now and future, I thank those who have made the research function of O.A.D.R. exciting and productive: the executive committee, which consists of Donald K. Smith, vice-president, Administration (chairman), Willard Thompson, dean, General Extension Division, Kenneth L. Graham, chairman, Department of Speech, Communication, and Theatre Arts, all of the University of Minnesota, and Peter Zeisler, managing director, and Donald Schoenbaum, associate manager, of the Minnesota Theatre Company; the Twin Cities theatres which have generously and enthusiastically provided laboratory facilities for our pilot program: the Firehouse Theatre, the Minnesota Theatre Company, the Theatre in the Round Players, Inc., the University of Minnesota Theatre and Showboat, the AnyPlace Theatre, the Theatre St. Paul, and in our initial excursion from homebase, the Playhouse in the Park, Cincinnati, Ohio; the wise, patient foundation men and women; Robert Crawford, Norman Lloyd, Roger Stevens, Ruth Mayleas, and Walter Trenerry; the staff and readers of the program itself; and a university and foundations eager to explore new artistic territory, brave enough to defend the program against "outrageous fortune," and concerned enough to offer counsel, money, and faith.

5

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ARTHUR SAINER

The Thing Itself

to Syd Walter, who directed the play with much love, and to Margo Sherman, who was the first to lay eyes on the script and kept quiet about it for six months

Cast of Characters LOUIS NERVAL HAROLD QUEER ALTHEA BETTINA GIRL NEIGHBOR WIDOW MAN IN DARK SUIT MAN IN LIGHT SUIT SMALL CLIENT TWO DETECTIVES HELLER ACTORS TWO MORE NEIGHBORS OLD LADY DERELICT

THE THING ITSELF

PART ONE Darkness for a time. Then a few lights, nothing more. Then Louis Nerval's voice explodes into an angry chant. It seems to boom at us from various directions. LOUIS I say that we have been caught pissing sideways, that the air is foul, that we have been farting like old ladies scared niggers will join the diners club. It's time to cut through the shit, time to commit our little incriminating and downright exquisite acts of poison, time to give God a good beating on the ass to see if he runs. Time to warm our genitals hi the sun's light, time to make our eyes, time to greet the small children. I say the sun's been seen retching into the east, the sun's been seen wallowing in the sunrise, the cock's crow finds us not mad enough. Again a long silence. The lights fade. The lights come up to reveal Louis seated in his loft, staring at his shoe. Louis' age cannot be accurately determined; debauchery has certainly aged him. He might be in his early forties, or fifty-five, a gaunt man, black, unkempt hair, uncanny eyes. His dress is always a bit unkempt, yet always there is an air of formality. For what seems time almost unto madness, Louis stares at the shoe. A t some point the musician appears. He will appear at moments throughout the play and his music will often seem to have no bearing on the action, in © 1967 by Arthur Sainer. Address inquiries concerning performance or translation rights to Arthur Sainer, Bennington College, Bennington, Vermont 05201, concerning music to Paul Boesing, 2924 East 22nd Street, Minneapolis, Minnesota 55406.

9

ARTHUR SAINER fact will at times seem to get in the way of the action, making it difficult to hear dialogue, sounding too interesting, etc. The action may also appear to get in the way of the music. The script will indicate these actions only at certain rare moments. The music should always be made by the musician making contact, either through some object or some part of his body, with an object already on the stage: prop, furniture, etc. In effect, the musician is to play the environment. Louis' attention finally shifts to putting on his shoes. He is all business now, buttons his shirt, dons a tie, leaves the loft, and goes into the street. A neighbor passes, a man in his fifties, portly, sluggish, gentle, with meaty, laborer's hands. The man carries a small package. NEIGHBOR

Good day. LOUIS Yes. Up early, eh? (The neighbor stops as if embarrassed.) NEIGHBOR

Why yes. You see, it's Sunday, but I needed to pick up medicine at the druggist's. LOUIS How? NEIGHBOR

Yes, you see —well, I've been — well — ailing a bit. (laughs) He did me a kindness to open the store. LOUIS Ailing. NEIGHBOR

Yes, that is . . Well — we shall see each other soon, I trust. LOUIS Good day. NEIGHBOR

Good day. LOUIS Good day. SLIDE : Louis asleep in his bed, everything rumpled. We see Althea, a young whore amply filling out a printed summer dress. She is rubbing one bare leg against the other as she studies a menu in the window of a luncheonette. A man in a business suit passes by and mutters something close to her ear. 10

THE THING ITSELF ALTHEA

Up yours. (The man in the business suit leaves. Althea consults the change in her purse.) FILM : Louis in his loft, staring at his shoe. The scene corresponds to the live one we've witnessed recently. Cut to Louis striding along an empty boulevard, moving away from the camera. Cut to Louis in his loft, examining a series of masks, masks of angels, of young men, of anguished men. Louis is now seen in his loft, musing. The film image slowly fades, leaving the live man before us. LOUIS Good day, sir, good day, sir. I'm ailing. You'll forgive me but I'm ailing. They are doing me a kindness. We shall see each other soon. (Harold Queer enters the room. Queer is a round man sporting a small goatee and a stocking cap on his head. Louis acknowledges his presence with a look but pays no further attention to him. Queer goes to Louis' refrigerator and rummages around. Louis is deep in thought.) HAROLD

No cheese. (Louis ignores him.) I'll eat your liverwurst. (nibbles at it) This liverwurst is tasty. What's on your mind? SLIDE : Louis asleep in bed. The loft. Louis lectures, perhaps to several young actors and actresses who are seated on the floor, or to the audience. LOUIS In the past one spoke of the creation of character — that is, one assumed the role of an actor was to uncover differences and samenesses, that the character was at once idiosyncratic and universal. But my dear friends, in the theatre to which we are offering our blood, there are no characters to be created. There are instead only life impulses. There are no consistencies, no patterns. Instead there are irrelevancies, inconsistencies, mistakes, broken thoughts. There is an impulse toward chaos, another toward assimilation. In our theatre there is no stage and no story, there is only human life pushed into a corner, threatened with extinction. And human life threatened with human life. And always mistakes. It is the theatre of mistaken life, it is moving toward no good but its movement is essential though it itself is without essence. It is essential because it speaks — not with a tongue — but with its life, and it takes unto itself the life of the spec11

ARTHUR SAINER

tator. But just as there is no character to be viewed, there is no spectator to do the viewing — there is only other human life trapped in its impossibilities, other human life speeding toward extinction and assimilation. In the theatre of mistakes, other human life enters and emerges in blindness. During its moment with us, other human life feels that something is moving towards it, something marvelous and yet monstrous is about to touch its hand, but it cannot see, for there is complete darkness. And what it cannot see is not only that thing about to touch its hand but itself, and itself has no hand and no heart and no eyes — and yet it has everything and will emerge into the daylight blindness with everything existing and not existing in the full passion and boredom of its mistakes. SLIDE : A sun-drenched sidewalk devoid of people. The neighbor is asleep in his bed. The musician plays against his bed. The neighbor continues to sleep. Fade out. In the darkness the musician continues to play. Althea and Harold Queer are giggling together against the side of a building. A Ithea gives Harold a friendly shove and begins strutting down the street comically. Harold blows his nose dramatically. Althea turns at the sound and curtsies. Harold begins to eat a banana, offers Althea a bite, but she refuses and leaves. Harold finishes his banana and takes an apple from his pocket. He polishes it against the handkerchief he has just used for blowing his nose, being careful to use a comparatively clean side. Althea's room. Althea is stretched comfortably, reading a book and sucking on a lemon. A man in a dark suit knocks. ALTHEA

Who's there? (He knocks again. Althea lets him in and returns to bed, lemon, and book. The man in the dark suit is in his late forties and stiffly suspicious but is big on outward amiability.) MAN IN DARK SUIT

Good evening. You were expecting . . ? (A flicker of Althea's hand points out a seat. Silence. A Ithea reads.) You are a beauty. ALTHEA

MAN IN DARK SUIT

What's the weather like? Perhaps we should dine out. (The man laughs at the mixup. No response from Althea. The man lights two cigarettes, romantically.) ALTHEA

I don't smoke. (A Ithea reads.) 12

THE THING ITSELF MAN IN DARK SUIT

What book are you reading? ALTHEA

The Education of Henry Adams, part three. What do you do? MAN IN DARK SUIT

I sell airplanes. (Althea squats before the man.) ALTHEA

Spread your legs. (He does so. A Ithea unzips his fly.) The loft. The actors are at work; Louis is not present. Two performers have risen to do an exercise. The girl is Bettina, a tall, dark-haired, aristocratic beauty. They do an improvisation in which they try, with great difficulty, to avoid any kind of contact with one another. It is suggested that the improvisation vary from performance to performance, that some nights the point be to make contact despite a handicap, tear a mask from the actor's face while retaining one's own, etc. The improvisations should not be determined until the actual scene begins, and then preferably by some chance method. Louis stands impassively over the neighbor, who is asleep in an armchair. Some sound or some seventh sense wakes the neighbor. The vision of someone standing over him makes him bolt up. The two men stare at one another but do not speak. The neighbor is terrified. NEIGHBOR

(finally) What do you want? LOUIS To do you a kindness. (Louis pulls out a revolver and fires several times. The neighbor gasps and collapses. Louis closes the neighbor's eyes. We hear the musician performing discursively.) SLIDE: Althea sucking on a lemon. Behind her, we see Harold Queer biting her bare shoulder. SLIDE : A gravestone in winter. Bettina's room. Bettina does her hair before a mirror. There is an astonishing single-mindedness to her movements. The girl peruses herself with a calm intensity, brushing, turning a lock, pinning. The scene is a long one, at times it seems interminable. We are watching utter devotion to beauty.

13

ARTHUR SAINER

At some point Harold Queer appears in another part of the theatre and sings a song. HAROLD

Stones, bones Mice, ice Trees, cheese, Kiss my keys. Legs, dregs, Rites, nights Whites, bites, Cough my kites.

Mom, mom, Come, come Apple sauce caused my divorce. Instant. River. Money. Shiver. Shore, shut, Shit, but. Eggs, ink, Fold my fink. Give, give, Come, come, Smoking butts with sauteed guts. Light, light, Out cold, Have you seen my coughing bean? Have you touched my Canton ball? Have you left my brain bereft?

Ink, ink, Ink, ink, Ink, ink, Ink, ink ink. More, more More, more. More, more, 14

THE THING ITSELF More more more. More more more. Girls, legs, Oysters, Munch a maid who's just been laid. Itch, rich, Itch, rich, Scratch a beggar, find a dog, Scratch a can and call me king. Casserole with flake of death. Hold my cheeks and hold your breath. Hot potatoes itching rich. Hot potatoes itching rich. (Harold's song ends abruptly.) Louis' loft. Louis is sunk in an armchair. He is in deep concentration, as if he -were trying to call forth something. Suddenly, breaking waves are heard, quite loud, as if the sound had broken into Louis' room. Almost immediately the sound is much softer. But it continues. Louis' eyes widen, his fingers reach out. All at once the sound is a roar, a deluge of water, but an instant later it is a lapping, tranquil sound. Shortly afterwards, it becomes a roar once more and continues as a roar. Louis sits back — it is as if he is willing the water and it is assaulting him and he is defying and greeting it. When it softens again he begins to move about the room, his fingers tentatively reaching out. His movements suggest some conflict between the impulses of fish and man. A restaurant. Bettina, well-groomed, is delicately eating a salad. She goes on eating delicately throughout the next few scenes. The neighbor's widow sits in the window of her apartment. She looks out impassively. She is a middle-aged lady and though she is neat, it is not possible for her to appear groomed. She is silent for a time. WIDOW (at last) My husband has been shot. Dead. They can't find who did it. They haven't a clue who did it. Shot. (She is silent. A very slow fade-out. Fade in the neighbor's widow again. She seems not to have moved.) No one heard the shot. (A dog barks. She turns toward the sound.) Althea is watching television and eating chocolates. She searches among 15

ARTHUR SAINER the chocolates for something special. She tests out a chocolate, shrugs, and devours it. The widow's voice is heard by us but not by Althea as it mixes withAlthea's television. WIDOW

Not a clue. (A Ithea stretches out and dozes. The phone rings.) ALTHEA

(to phone) Shut up. (It continues to ring.) Didn't you hear me? (The phone stops. Television goes on. Althea sleeps.) SLIDE : The legend "A Ithea will have a bad dream at the age of 37." A t this point Bettina's scene has ended. The neighbor's widow sits in the window. An automat. No one is present as the scene begins. All at once Harold Queer and Althea bound into view. They stop short with surprised delight, survey the automat and one another. HAROLD

The right place. ALTHEA

My boy. HAROLD

Plenty to eat. Tasty windows. ALTHEA

Free enterprise. HAROLD

No place to shit. ALTHEA

Courtesy of Fags and Bags. (Harold and Althea nibble at each other's fingers, like mice. They stop.) Let's act like Russians. HAROLD

Storms. ALTHEA

Beautiful Bolshies. HAROLD

Pickles. ALTHEA

Let's dress like Russians. (They nibble at each other's fingers.) 16

THE THING ITSELF LOUIS

(entering) The Pork and Beans Trot! (Harold and Althea break into the Pork and Beans Trot. They stop at a snap from Louis' fingers. Both run to Louis' fingers as if to nibble at them but Louis holds them over his head, both avoiding them and preparing a proclamation.) The creation of a new sandwich. HAROLD

Orange juice and dandruff. ALTHEA

Sunday Times with oil of lettuce. LOUIS

A living sandwich. HAROLD

Is this the right place? ALTHEA

Come here, boy. (Althea and Harold intertwine their bodies into several new "sandwiches," each time watching for Louis' approval. But Louis is hard to please. They become discouraged.) You're hard to please. LOUIS You displease me. ALTHEA

My thighs? LOUIS

Get out! (Althea and Harold start to run off, change their minds, and do the yo-yo dance. It's exotic. Then they run off.) Too many sensations. (The automat windows begin to quiver. Louis stares.) Bring me your hungry chops! Your quivering lettuce specials. (The windows quiver.) Watch out! I'm going off on a nickel drunk! (Louis begins flinging nickels wildly around. He is suddenly without nickels.) I can't feed you! (The windows stop quivering.) Tomorrow I'll feed you an old lady blowing on a cup of tea. Eh, my pretties? Louis' studio. The actors are prone on the floor, chanting. Bettina moves among them, almost like a sleepwalker. One by one the actors rise until they form a procession and march Bettina to an area -where a stone slab has been set. Gently Bettina is laid out on the slab and now one of the actors takes out a knife. He holds the knife over Bettina's neck while the others chant. Louis, who has been watching the exercise, contemptuously slaps the knife out of the actor's hand. 17

ARTHUR SAINER

Althea's room. A man in a light suit is offering Althea flowers, chocolates, and nylon stockings. Althea indicates that he is to put it all down and she lights a cigarette with her usual detachment while the client disencumbers himself of the gifts. ALTHEA

You do make handsome offerings. MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

I try to come up with the best. ALTHEA

Get out of your things so that we can get on with it. MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

The rush? ALTHEA

I'm expecting my mother. MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

(smiles) I'd like to have you all to myself. ALTHEA

I'm yours. Ever had The Clap? MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

Strange girl. ALTHEA

I'll help you off with your things. (With caressing strokes, Althea helps the client out of his jacket.) Muscles, eh? MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

I'd really like to buy you for good. ALTHEA

Imprisoned in a salami factory, no thanks. Expensive shirts. MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

And suits. ALTHEA

And you get it polished every week? MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

What? ALTHEA

What would you do for me in the salami factory? MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

Why, like this afternoon. ALTHEA

And plenty of chocolates, eh? 18

THE THING ITSELF MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

Sure. ALTHEA

What a sport. MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

Cars? ALTHEA

Maids? MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

You name it, baby. ALTHEA

Schmuck! If I can name it, I don't want it! Now I do like chocolates, I am pretty big on chocolates, but it's only when I poke the centers to find out and then know that I can't find out by poking that I'm really sent. Do something for me De Lawd can't do, baby. MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

You can be tiresome, right? (Althea, out of good spirits, cracks the client viciously in the face. He is startled but she is off in her own world.) ALTHEA

Oh what I can't be! Listen, I'm bored, you bore me, schmuck. I don't want your money. MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

You want me to leave? ALTHEA

Before I boot you in the ass — or is that one of your pleasures? MAN IN LIGHT SUIT

The jacket. (Althea fingers the jacket, suddenly leaps at him, and prances like the bullfighter maddening the bull. She sings Bizet at the same time. The man rips the jacket from her fingers, stares at her as if she were mad, puts on his jacket, and leaves. Althea watches with malicious pleasure. She goes to the new box of chocolates and yells.) ALTHEA

Sock it to me, Barricini's! Louis and Harold are playing cards and talking. LOUIS Did you ever do anyone a kindness? HAROLD

How you talk. Not exactly. Never consciously. And you? 19

ARTHUR SAINER LOUIS Consciously, yes. HAROLD

What possessed you? LOUIS It was the beginning of a project. HAROLD

I get it. LOUIS

No you don't. HAROLD

You're right. What project? LOUIS Why, to assassinate the city, of course. Your move. HAROLD

Assassinate the city? LOUIS Exactly. HAROLD

Of course. LOUIS Do you see? HAROLD

Not too well, skinny. Which city? LOUIS The city, the city. HAROLD

Tell me LOUIS I won't tell you anything. You're a fool. Now, anyone can murder the strong. But to attack the weak, to murder the weak while they're already dying before your eyes, that's true poetry. HAROLD

What a strange fellow. Harold's going to steal your chicken wings. If you had roast beef in the icebox, Harold would steal it. LOUIS A bright fool. The fool of the belly. To assassinate the city. HAROLD

You speak metaphorically. 20

THE THING ITSELF LOUIS

(upsetting the cards) Go fuck yourself! You speak like a schoolboy. HAROLD

Perhaps you're insane, eh keed? LOUIS Yes, not unlikely. But insanity's not my strong point. I'm moving towards something more valuable, toward coping with the thing itself. HAROLD

What thing itself are you talking about, skinny? LOUIS I talk too much to a fool. Play your hands. HAROLD

Play your hands —that's good. Play your hands. (They play in silence.) To assassinate the city, (laughs) LOUIS Play. The widow is sitting in the window. In a moment she leaves. The dog is heard to bark. Then the dead neighbor appears and sits in the window as if he were alive. He begins to bark as Part One ends. THE FIRST INTERMISSION

The audience, upon adjourning to the lobby, discovers that some members of the cast are sitting in chairs in the middle of the lobby, as if waiting for something. It should not be clear if the actors are in the lobby as themselves or as their characters. In fact, the actors should feel free to "be there" in whatever capacity they wish on any given night. However, they should try to keep from conversing with the audience, although they may smile pleasantly, or not pleasantly, if they so desire. The actors should not stay in the lobby more than a few minutes.

PART TWO Two detectives are busy. One is stuffing a series of ballpoints into various pockets. The other is busy polishing a series of badges. Each badge is then hidden underneath an article of clothing and the detective practices uncovering each, as if about to make an arrest. The scene seems to go on forever — more ballpoints and more badges appear and are clipped on or 21

ARTHUR SAINER

polished or hidden. The scene goes on, perhaps, through the next scenes to follow. The neighbor's wife is sitting in the window. WIDOW I'll tell a story. (But she doesn't.) The loft. Louis is slumped in an armchair. The musician enters. Though neither Louis nor any other character in the play ever seems aware of the presence of the musician, Louis now reacts in a curious way. For, as the musician plays the set, Louis begins to vibrate to each of the sounds. But it is not that Louis is hearing sounds, it is that his body is vibrating to the vibrations. It is both pleasurable and disturbing for Louis and, at some point, he grabs his jacket and races out. The musician stops playing and leaves. The neighbor's widow is sitting in the window. WIDOW My story. No one heard the shot. People say, "You take it well." They say, "You should marry, you're getting younger." But I'm married — to dents in the mattress, to stains on my cups. Not much of a story. (The widow sits quietly. The scene with the detectives has ended by now.} I sit quietly. I tend to my house and dog. I eat pot cheese. I don't drink. Cokes. The actors are in Louis' studio, again prone on the floor, preparing the same scene. This time no chanting. They form a procession and march Bettina to the stone slab. But Bettina, for some reason, is unable to lie down, and the actors, for some reason, are not up to forcing her down. They stand uncertainly. Bettina shakes her head at last and the rehearsal breaks up. The actors light cigarettes and talk idly. There is blackness for some time. Louis is asleep in bed. FILM: Louis asleep in bed. Louis and the vision of Louis continue to sleep. The image then fades. Louis continues to sleep. Harold Queer is being chased by two detectives. The chase is extraordinarily sprightly and goes on for some time. The detectives ultimately trap 22

THE THING ITSELF Harold but then all three are too out of breath to speak. Everyone sits down to catch his breath. Harold is able to speak first. HAROLD

You got— (catching his breath) the wrong guy. (But the detectives are still catching their breath. While he waits Harold eats a banana. The musician performs while the banana-eating and breath-catching go on. The first detective, still catching his breath, begins to take out some of his ballpoints. The second detective, still catching his breath, begins to flash some of his badges. Soon they are able to speak. At some point the musician ceases to play.) FIRST DETECTIVE

Yeah? SECOND DETECTIVE

Yeah? FIRST DETECTIVE

We're the law. SECOND DETECTIVE

The law. FIRST DETECTIVE

Get it? SECOND DETECTIVE

Resisting arrest. FIRST DETECTIVE

Tampering with inadmissible evidence. SECOND DETECTIVE

Speeding. FIRST DETECTIVE

Not speeding. HAROLD

Banana, boys? FIRST DETECTIVE

Get any idea how many unsolved murders there are? SECOND DETECTIVE

How many unwed mothers? HAROLD

I'm a voter. A citizen. An electorate. FIRST DETECTIVE

Name. HAROLD

I just can't remember. What's the charge? Any special charge? 23

A R T H U R SAINER SECOND DETECTIVE

Could it be Harold Queer? HAROLD

My name? (laughs and takes out another banana) FIRST DETECTIVE

(pouncing on it) What's this? (to the second detective) You see this? SECOND DETECTIVE

(with great interest) Yeah. FIRST DETECTIVE

You think you're pretty smart. HAROLD

I think you're doing unusual jobs. Alert. SECOND DETECTIVE

Put the banana away, Queer, you're in trouble, fun's over. (The scene sobers considerably. The first detective grabs Harold's arm and begins wrenching it savagely. Harold screams. The second detective pummels him viciously. Harold is reduced to screams and tears in a matter of seconds.) Louis is alone in his chair. The natural light begins to flicker severely, blacking out Louis and then the room, bringing Louis back an instant later, beginning to jade slowly but changing its mind and heightening itself. Louis has not moved. The light becomes intolerably bright, then fades quickly. The widow is sitting in the window. She is cracking and eating nuts, without relish. Althea is in her room with another client. The client is small and bald. He sits in a chair, silently worshiping Althea. Althea, who has been taking off her shoes, stops and stares at the man staring at her. She draws close to him and calmly begins to incant into his face. ALTHEA

Shit. Fuck. Screw. Nuts. Butts. Beans. Trees. Wets. (As if he has not heard, or heard correctly, the man goes on worshiping her.) Rape, ram, and mother fucker. (The man worships her.) Got a nickel? Stick it in your pickle, (more worship) Okay, shorty, time to screw. Daylight screwing time, come out of it, out with it. (The man grins.) Once upon a time, or so it goes, little goddies made little mannies with little hairies on their chest chest chest. Once upon a time, that is to say, no longer and goodbye, 24

THE THING ITSELF

the little mannies had little somethings, that is to say, big somethings which they used on flag day. And every day those days was flag day. Get it, little buster? (The man pounces on Althea and they -wrestle desperately.) Watch your language. Fornicating can't be done with tongue in cheek. Give it all you've got, little mannie, and we'll jump for joy as the feller says. (Althea gets away. The little man subsides. A moment of quiet follows. Althea pulls the little man up by his ears, peruses him, then removes her other shoe, and calmly places the heel in the man's mouth.) Suck on that for a while. The detectives are grabbing Harold Queer's arm and pummeling him as before. He screams and writhes as before. But it is all done soundlessly. Blackness for a time. Louis and Bettina are in Louis' room. Louis is -writing and Bettina is brushing her hair. Bettina glances several times at Louis but he is engrossed in his work. After she has brushed her hair sufficiently, Bettina removes her dress and shoes and stretches out in Louis' bed. Louis works for a time, then goes to the window and smokes a cigarette. He turns to Bettina. LOUIS Your calves are like a poem. BETTINA

I want to be made love to. LOUIS Of course. (Louis sits beside her and caresses her legs.) What if I hung you by these ankles like a side of beef and then devoured you? BETTINA

What if I let you? LOUIS (laughing) Very good, very good. Tell me what it is you do with yourself, what it is you believe that you want. BETTINA

I go to class, I brush my hair, I have my friends, I cook chops when I have money. LOUIS You want to learn, eh, and to be petted and to be fed. BETTINA

I want to have a life. (Louis snorts, moves away.) 25

ARTHUR SAINER LOUIS Delusions of mediocrity. I am going to write a play which I shall call by that title. The assault of the mediocre, the attack on life by health. BETTINA

Nothing pleases you. LOUIS (yells) Bullshit, bullshit! (quieter) I had a neighbor who was ailing, but that's another story. My mother laundered people's clothes but I've become an aristocrat — in short, I'm a ridiculous creature. But I'll save the world by the simple expedient of assassinating it, a stupid paradox to say the least. But perhaps, like the others, you believe in the fiction of my insanity. BETTINA

I never said so. (Louis laughs in appreciation.) LOUIS In the silent films, before your time, a pie in the face was a big thing. Soft pies, think of them, squishy pies. BETTINA

What for? LOUIS

Benevolent pies, beautiful pies, rare pies, ripe and rich pies, pies waiting to be wiped. I shall plan a scene in which you, my love, are bombarded consecutively by peach, apple, and pear pie. BETTINA

I don't want that. LOUIS (with contempt) No, you don't want that. But you shall have it. And hung like a side of beef. BETTINA

Love me. LOUIS Wake up. BETTINA

I have boys who love me. LOUIS Bravo, my dear, excellent, excellent. (Louis leaves the room. Bettina turns over on her side and tries to sleep. But she cannot. She sits up and stares ahead. She looks down at her own calves, caresses one tentatively. Louis re-enters, watches her.) And now I want to see your belly.

26

THE THING ITSELF BETTINA

I can't stand you! (blackness for a time) The walls of the entire area, encompassing all performers and the audience, have been metamorphosed into the inner walls of a skeleton. A cocktail party is in progress inside the skeleton. The participants move about drinking, gossiping, but no sounds are to be heard. Among the participants are Bettina,Althea, Harold, some of the actors, and some of Althea's clients. Dance music is heard. The guests begin dancing, each by himself. The music becomes frantic, the dancing becomes frantic. The dancing guests are trying to find a way out of the skeleton; it becomes the purpose of their dancing. Althea and Harold have not joined the dancers but are watching amused. As the dancers begin to claw at the walls and collapse on the ground, Althea and Harold begin to kiss one another and then to dance quietly although the music is still frantic. An empty street corner. Louis appears, pauses near a lamppost, doffs his hat, smiles ironically, and proceeds to make a kind of sales pitch. LOUIS Anyone living? If anyone is living, you and I, sir, will start a movie company. We'll make pint-sized spectacles to mix in with breakfast cereals, we'll make upsetting coming attractions to be shown just as one is getting ready for bed. A special machine yet to be invented will flash these special attractions across the eyes of nodding souls who are preparing to dream. These coming attractions will of course have to do with the state of the world soul, and will reveal forthcoming blood baths and intimate betrayals. Our pint-sized spectacles, expanding with gastronomical ease while wetted down with milk and intestinal juices, will unfold visions to the eye via the swimming cereal bowl and little tactical stories to the stomach muscles later on its journey. These visions and stories will relate how Mom and the cops have lied to us and how we are cowardly preparing to mail our teeth to the tax collector and hide in the compost bed to avoid the draft. Our company also plans to produce some dandy little suppositories which will be programmed artistically to coincide with the action of the sphincter muscle. As one discharges outward, one will simultaneously be taking in and experiencing a series of entertainment spasms. These will be our special abstracts, containing no narrative but programmed for pure anxiety and melting horror. The country's leading poets will be set to work to produce these visceral visions. No expense will be spared. Ladies and gentlemen, these coining attractions, pint-sized spectacles, and abstract 27

ARTHUR SAINER

spasm shows will surely be edifying and may well scare one or two shitless if I am only able to find one living gentleman to finance this movie company. FILM : Louis' head appearing among many milk bottles. LOUIS (watching the film of himself) A grand fellow. He is sure to come to a bad end. (sings the folio-wing song) Dreams and gears make tears. Scented flowers die in hours. Love debates. Passion grates, Coal-black bible satiates. Orange end of nerves. Lusty nothing serves. Wild careening, Softly spleening, Confidences Anesthetics Trees make men, Now and then. Harold Queer is sitting on the ground, pawing over some fruit. HAROLD

God, I, Harold Queer, am wild about eating fruit. The devourer of fruit. Gnash gnash went nasty Hesh, stealing cherries from the eyes of young virgins. To swing both ways is next to godliness. Pound cake corrupts but absolute pound cake corrupts absolutely. What I keep wondering is how much has Louis stashed away and is it in a bank or shoe, since I've already checked pillow, sugar bowl, and jock strap. If I could just get my little mitts on his lettuce, Althea and I could leave for sunny Rome and start a little magazine three blocks north of the Vatican. There's good whoring in Rome so that —yum, peaches, (eats) I have already thought of letting Louis have it with a small revolver if I ever had enough saved for a getaway car, but why would I want to do him in since he's a pal? (eats for a while) Still, who am I to allow friendship to stand hi the way of money? There's the community to think of, wouldn't care to start a nasty precedent; let self-interest go down the drain and the next thing you know Christianity's at your door like a wolf. Now it's my belief — yum, bananas, (eats 28

THE THING ITSELF for a while) Now it's my belief that with a whore like Althea one could retire and get a small farm or open up a TV station and show John Wayne shoot-'em-ups all night. Harold Queer, as everyone is bound to learn, is a small-business man at heart, and Althea, as everyone is bound to learn, is a small business. Concerning my recent triumphs, let us take, for example, my mail-order special entitled Queer's Telephone Directory. This nowout-of-print directory listed what would have been the phone numbers of certain outstanding queers if the telephone had only been invented when they lived. Using this thumb-indexed opus one might have dialed and tetea-teted or kissed into their receiver Martin Luther, Geronimo, and Edward the Second. This handy volume went through four editions before the chief editor had to leave town hurriedly. And now once again, Harold Queer is getting jittery as if some occurrence were about to stain the natural uneventfulness of this town. Every morning I expect to see something, every night I dream that stinking urchins are plotting a way to siphon off my blood, every so often I begin to think that somebody has just been malicious enough to give the sun sun poisoning. But a good stock of cigars sets me right again, but I have no cigars. Yum, cucumbers. (Harold eats.) An old derelict stands, as if frozen, in the middle of an empty street. The scene exists for some time; the derelict does not move. Louis is sitting up in bed, being examined by a physician. The physician, a youngish-looking man, seems close to Louis. LOUIS Van Gogh's sunflowers. HELLER

Be quiet for a moment. LOUIS (after a moment) When David prepared to sling the stone at the head of Goliath, he was counting on the existence of a particular behavior pattern to act in his favor. He was a romantic fool. HELLER

Natural laws? LOUIS Myths. You know it. Hokum. Let the universe alone and it will gravitate into the most comfortable and essential state conceivable, the state of chaos. HELLER

But we fight it. 29

ARTHUR SAINER LOUIS Yes, we fight it. That fucking little David was an admirable little ass, a dreamer, a smug prick, a believer in destiny, a Yiddish Newton, an anachronism in the universe like the rest of us. HELLER

Turn this way. LOUIS And the psychoanalysts. Shoring up the personality, shoring it with mud, because it threatens otherwise to dissolve into the universal morass. They stink. The hunt is on for the personality but the personality is then, having been packed like Wheaties into its own box, to enter into what they euphemistically refer to as a "relationship" with other boxes of Wheaties. This side by side existence of millions of boxes of Wheaties is what we then call civilization. HELLER

You said once that you could feel your own nerve endings. LOUIS Yes, I didn't lie. Like wire brushes, like tiny little Brillo sonatas. But why think of it as me? A momentary pocket of sensibility. What is it you're tapping at? What are fifty years compared to that sloppy endless ennui? Think of mankind as a fart believing it has consciousness. And yet, and yet, Jesus God, what the hell are we to do? HELLER

Eat vegetables, have children, brush your teeth, get a little sun, have a suit pressed now and then. LOUIS Sanity versus insanity or non-sanity, or better yet a-sanity. The insane are at fault because they're mistaken, they fight reality, believing it's real. But at least they're on to the fact that something's up, that something needs worrying about, only they go the wrong way. Eat vegetables. Don't tell me to eat vegetables! Go eat them yourself! Who the hell do you think you are! Get out of my bed! HELLER

From here I go to visit a little girl named Pearl. LOUIS Get out of my bed or I'll break your arm. HELLER

This little girl named Pearl has a doll and Pearl pretends the doll has an illness. (Louis flings the physician off his bed. The man goes tumbling to the ground.) Watch my stethoscope. You're wild today. 30

THE THING ITSELF

LOUIS

Get off my floor. What the hell do you think you're doing on my floor? HELLER

You'll get a bill in the morning. LOUIS I won't pay it. I'll give you one of my girls instead. HELLER

I don't need one of your girls. I've got a wife. LOUIS Give the girl to your wife. Is that a way to talk to a sick man? (Heller packs his bag.) One area has metamorphosed into the interior of a skull. Louis appears in the area. Louis' voice, magnified and distorted, is heard calling out, in the manner of a news bulletin. LOUIS' VOICE Louis Nerval takes a walk inside his skull. (Louis moves about carefully, tentatively touching the sides of the wall. Atone point, for one instant, the interior of the skull appears to quiver. Louis freezes. It is some time before he is able to move again, but he does.) He finds it most stimulating. (All at once Louis collapses. He lifts himself to a sitting posture, breathing heavily.) But he finds breathing somewhat difficult. (Louis rises.) And thinking has become difficult. (Louis moves very slowly.) Louis soon discovers he has no use for thinking. (Louis begins caressing the -walls.) Textures have become everything. (Louis' feet slip from under him and he goes down to the ground again. He begins to crawl about.) It is difficult to make one's way about. But not impossible. (The walls quiver slightly and Louis shivers.) The detectives are torturing Harold Queer on a table. Harold is screaming silently, in agony. His screams all at once burst into sound. HAROLD

No no no no no no no! (The torture goes on.) Listen! —Listen!!! —Him! LOUIS! — HIMl!! ( The detectives release Harold instantly. They pack their things and abandon the room.) ON SCREEN: Still image of an empty boulevard. Louis appears, is about to light a cigarette, but the musician appears and his felt presence makes Louis uncomfortable. For a time the musician does 31

A R T H U R SAINER

nothing and Louis waits. The musician at last begins to play. As in the earlier scene, Louis begins to vibrate to the vibrations, and again the sensations are pleasurable and disturbing. But unlike the earlier scene, the concert begins to get out of hand. The vibrations of Louis' body become huge spasms, although we are unable to notice an appreciable difference in the intensity of the music. The concert has Louis staggering after a time, in great pain, pleading silently to be relieved of the music. Louis clutches objects, bites himself, but the concert goes on relentlessly and is still going until Part Two ends. THE SECOND INTERMISSION

A normal intermission. PART THREE Louis is asleep. A girl of ten enters his room. She is very pretty and very prettily dressed. She moves with the assurance of a mature person. She stands over Louis' bed, watching him. Louis continues to sleep. Louis wakes, eyes the girl, bolts up in bed. The girl smiles. They study one another for some time. Fade out. Fade in Louis sitting in his room. The girl appears and sits across from him. Louis observes her out of the corner of his eye. She observes him in the same manner. A t last Louis speaks. LOUIS A glass of milk? GIRL Yes. LOUIS

Ah hah. (In triumph, Louis pours milk for the girl. But the girl will not take the milk.) GIRL

Later. LOUIS Have you been on the merry-go-round? GIRL

Often. LOUIS Come sit near me, eh? 32

THE THING ITSELF GIRL Later. (Louis returns to his seat. Again they watch one another.) Do you cry? LOUIS Me? GIRL

Yes, certainly, who else? LOUIS Rarely. And you? GIRL I? Almost never. I'll have my milk now. (Louis brings the milk.) Feed it to me. Thank you. LOUIS You drink well. Would you like a nap? GIRL Not I. Why is it you rarely cry? LOUIS

I can't say. Perhaps cowardice. GIRL

Would you cry for me? LOUIS

No, I wouldn't. GIRL

I'll make you cry. LOUIS I suggest you take your nap. GIRL

In a while. (Louis prepares to do some writing. The girl watches him.) LOUIS Don't watch me. (The girl continues to watch. Louis sits down to work.) GIRL

I'm watching you. (In a rage Louis flings a book at her. The girl is impassive.) That was a mistake. (Louis returns to his work.) Which you'll pay for. (Louis works. The girl comes up behind him.) I'm going to play with my stuff now. (starts out of room) And then I'm going to sit near you. (The girl leaves, Louis works.) The widow is sitting on her bed, slowly changing from the rather drab clothing we have always seen her in to rather glamorous garb. From the 33

ARTHUR SAINER other part of the house the dog begins to bark. The -widow continues to deck herself out. Louis is at work. ON SCREEN: Multiple images of Louis, mostly head shots, Louis concentrating on labor. The shots fade, leaving Louis alone in the room. After a time Louis leaves the room. ON SCREEN: Multiple shots of Louis once more. The shots hold for a time, then fade out. The little girl is in Louis' room. She is playing with stuff. When she finishes she roams about the room. From a closet she begins to pull out costumes. She chooses carefully, donning various feminine articles. It becomes clear in a while that she is dressing up as a grown woman. Surprisingly enough, the illusion appears real. When Louis enters the room, the girl has not quite finished dressing. Louis watches uncomfortably, then sprawls on his bed with a book. The girl finishes dressing, takes a cigarette from a table and begins to smoke. She sits on the side of Louis' bed. Louis sits up and knocks the cigarette from her mouth. She bends down and puts her mouth on his as a lover would. In fact, she appears to be Louis' mistress at this moment. Louis seems incapable of making a movement. At last the girl pulls away and begins to remove the clothing, putting one piece after another back in the closet. Louis, in an agitated state, draws up behind her and grasps her. He strokes her hair. The girl does not turn around but talks to him in the voice of a small girl. GIRL Well isn't that nice? But isn't it time for my milk? (Louis pulls his hands away as if he had been burned, then pushes the girl roughly to the floor and runs back to his bed.) You've made me hurt my knee. Now you'll have to kiss it. LOUIS Little Stupid, Louis will kiss dead rats first. GIRL

(pouting) Oh you're not nice. (Louis goes furiously back to his book. On the floor, the girl strokes her knee.) 34

THE THING ITSELF

The actors are in Louis' studio, preparing to work on the procession-sacrifice scene. Bettina is dressing for her role, others are preparing themselves, readying the slab, etc. The procession begins. Bettina is brought to the slab and the actors lay her on it. One actor uncovers a knife. No one moves. The actor bends over Bettina, brandishing the knife. Bettina waits, the others wait. The actor, in disgust, flings the knife far away and starts off. BETTINA

What's the matter? ACTOR

(mimicking her) What's the matter? OTHERS

(mimicking) What's the matter? What's the matter? (As the actors break up, the musician enters and plays the knife.) FILM: The stone slab in a meadow. A knife clatters against it. A park. Bettina is in the arms of one of the young actors, but all at once she breaks away from him. She sits stiffly while he watches her. BETTINA

(after a moment) Give me a cigarette. (No response. She smiles to placate him.) Don't be a boy. (The actor leaves. Bettina grows despondent, seems not to know what to do with herself.) I've a whole lifetime ahead of me. (She falls to her knees and begins miming the scrubbing of the floor. The scrubbing grows quite intense until Bettina is exhausted. She straightens her garments, wipes her face, and straightens her hair.) I'll shower and dress slowly for dinner. Low-calory tuna, melon, and wine. Then I'll read. SLIDE: The legend "In the beginning . ." Louis, Althea, and Harold appear and sing "The Revelation Trio." CHORUS(ALL) Revelation, revelation, Causes leaks and constipation. Oedipus could not contain patricide upon the brain. What we see we will not see, What we will we will not will. It's my station, it's my station. LOUIS I believed in cabbages, I believed hi sciences, 35

ARTHUR SAINER

CHORUS

I believed in computations made at the United Nations, I believed in therapeutic organ boxes made by eunuchs, I believed that God was near, pissing 'cross the hemisphere. I believed, I believed, I've been lately undeceived. I believed until, I believed until, Until, until, until I got the bill, Until I got the bill. Revelation, revelation, Causes shakes and palpitation. Dante felt a little churny in the middle of the journey. What we see we will not see, What we will we will not will. It's my station, it's my station.

ALTHEA

I believed in Waring Blenders, I believed in morning sickness, I believed in Cindy's slipper, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, I believed Niagara Falls was the place to study balls, I believed in little bangers blocked by trusty Margaret Sangers. I believed, I believed, I've been lately undeceived. I believed until, I believed until, Until, until, until I got the bill, Until I got the bill. CHORUS Revelation, revelation, Causes itching 'cross the nation. Hiroshima Mon Amour, the atom is a filthy whore. What we see we will not see, What we will we will not will. It's my station, it's my station. HAROLD

I believed in prophylaxis, I believed in highway taxes, 36

THE THING ITSELF I believed in Gandhi's choice, sit-ins at the Village Voice. I believed in Yin and Yang, seaweed, matzohs, one good bang, I believed in procreation at my favorite subway station. I believed, I believed, I've been lately undeceived. I believed until, I believed until, Until, until, until I got the bill, Until I got the bill. CHORUS

Revelation, revelation, Causes much miscegenation. Margaret Fuller sure was terse nodding at the universe. Moses might have shut the doors on the Table of the Laws. Albert Einstein sent a cable, "Shocked to find the world's unstable." Shocked to find it, do we mind it? No one made it, no one signed it. Where's it going, where it's been? Time out for Original Sin. Is God missing, is he dead? Has he moved his plant instead? What's he up to, what's his game? Jesus got it, Jacob's lame, No one knows just who to blame. No one wrote it, no one signed it, No one made it, no one played it, No one wants it, no one leaves it. What we see we have not seen, What we will we have not willed. It's my station, it's my station, Revelation, revelation, It's my station, it's my cross, No one knows just who is boss, It's my station, it's my cross, It's my station, it's my cross, It's my station, it's my station, 37

A R T H U R SAINER

It's my station, it's my station. It's my station, it's my station. A cathedral. It is awesome and ornate, enormous and complicated. Several dummy priests are scattered about, in attitudes of prayer. There is absolute silence for a time. Then a wind is heard to sweep through, ruffling the skirts of the dummy priests. The wind continues for a while, then dies down. An old lady scurries in, looks about to make sure she is unobserved, then begins to steal small articles from the dummies and then from the cathedral in general: rings, collars, candles, etc. A booming voice startles the old lady. The voice chants in some unintelligible tongue. The old lady, frightened, listens, but as the voice goes on, the old lady relaxes and eventually mimics the voice. While the voice continues the old lady takes out a sandwich and a bottle of wine and feasts. The voice ceases. The old lady is unnerved by the silence and stops eating. She gathers up her things and leaves. The wind sweeps in once more. All at once the dummy priests topple over. In the dead neighbor's living room, a small party is in progress. The guests include Louis, Bettina, Althea, Harold Queer, and several neighbors. The dead neighbor's widow is dressed in her new, glamorous clothing, and the dead neighbor himself is urging his guests to drink. NEIGHBOR Wine, everyone must have wine. Come, my friends, you must drink. (They all take glasses.) I've been ill, and not yet fully recovered, but it's nice to have friends in on occasion. WIDOW Last night I had bad dreams. ALTHEA

I dreamt a mouse was nibbling away at my money. BETTINA

And someone's life depended upon my catching that train. Now I never, never can catch trains, and I didn't manage to catch this one. WIDOW (to Bettina) What lovely hah*, my dear. BETTINA

Thank you. What a lovely dress. LOUIS (to neighbor) And how is your dog? 38

THE THING ITSELF NEIGHBOR

He has disappeared, thank you. He seems to have disappeared. I can't imagine. HAROLD

Wine, ah vine vine. ALTHEA

A wine bath. BETTINA

You're daring, my dear. ALTHEA

(bored) Yes. LOUIS (to the widow) And you are looking much younger. NEIGHBOR

Isn't she a picture? Come, we must have more wine, and a song. Who shall do it? (toAlthea) Young lady? ALTHEA

Sure, (sings) Once I had beans, Now I have pearls. Once I had a hole, Now I have coal. Once I had gray, Now I have hay. Once I had crack, Now I don't lack. Once I had wet, Now I have warm. Once I had yet, Now I have stern. Once I had bust, Now I have thrust. Once I had wow, Now I have now. Now I have now, Now I have now. Booties and furs, Hers, hers, and hers. Booties and furs, Minerals and mud. 39

ARTHUR SAINER Cocktails and cream, The dirtiest dream. Cocktails and booze, Whatever I choose, Whenever I snooze, I never can lose, I never can lose. Booties and furs, I never can lose. NEIGHBOR

Very good. Ah, very good, eh? LOUIS Excellent, (to widow) And what will you do now that your husband is back? WIDOW Do? NEIGHBOR

She will drink, eh? To my health. For I am recovered, eh? LOUIS Of course. A toast. To everyone's health. Everyone will be recovered. ( They all drink.) And now you must excuse me. NEIGHBOR

You are leaving? LOUIS Yes, I am called home. HAROLD

Wine wine. Vine and schnapps. WIDOW We shall all drink to my recovered husband. HAROLD

But isn't there any food? LOUIS Goodbye. (Louis leaves in time to a chorus of goodbyes and many waves.) NEIGHBOR

Yes, excellent fellow, eh? And he seems so devoted to me. And yet I hardly know him. HAROLD

Of arms and the man I sing. ALTHEA

Ring-a-ding-ding. Lovely booze. 40

THE THING ITSELF SECOND NEIGHBOR

Strange party. Queer day. THIRD NEIGHBOR

Who just left? HAROLD

Harold's pal. DETECTIVE

Someone must have picked my pocket. WIDOW Sorry there isn't lots more cheese. HAROLD

Lots more cheese? There's been no cheese. BETTINA

What's the matter? What's the matter? Louis is in his loft. Something unexpected has happened and he is peering about the room. LOUIS Girl? (no answer) Girl? (He strides to the closet, peers in, runs to look under the bed, grasps his head, crying out in bewilderment.) Where? (no anwer) It's time for milk! It's time for sex! Time for death! Where, where? Good riddance, hear, good riddance! (Louis drops into a chair, out of breath.) I'm an old man. I've an illness. Shit, what old man? What illness? Nothing but lies. And there was no one here. And there will be no one here, (cries out) And yet . . ! (Fade out. In the darkness we hear the musician playing.) FILM: Legend "The Assassination of the City." Extreme closeup. Man's eyes. They are bulging. Camera pulls back swiftly to reveal dead man hanging from post in boulevard. Exterior. Empty street. Pan shot. Camera pans about empty telegraph pole. Exterior. Car-wrecking lot. Camera dollies about the lot, picking out one wrecked car after another. Interior. Bookstore. Medium shot. The proprietor, dead, lies slumped in a chair. Camera dollies about room, picking out books lying on shelves and floor and the dead proprietor. Exterior. Empty street. High-angle shot. The street is empty and deathly still. 41

ARTHUR SAINER

Exterior. Street. Extreme closeup. Man's face. The terrified man is attempting to scream but cannot. Exterior. Field. Extreme long shot. Several priests are seen moving through the field. Extreme closeup. Man's eyes. Again the bulging eyes. Exterior. Empty street. Pan shot. Again the camera pans about the empty telegraph pole. Exterior. Empty street. Medium shot. Telegraph pole. Camera focuses on the telegraph pole from another angle. Hold for a time, then fade out. Fade in Harold in Louis' loft, rummaging stealthily through the refrigerator. He begins eating at random, shoving into his mouth whatever he manages to get his hands on first. Louis appears suddenly, Harold panics, pulls out a revolver from his pants, and fires. Louis cries out and drops to the ground. Harold is startled to see that it is Louis; he runs to him but it soon becomes obvious that he can be of no help. Louis lies still. Harold watches him, then closes his eyes. For a long time Harold sits, watching the dead Louis. Then Harold rises and closes the refrigerator. Again he looks at Louis. HAROLD

I've lost my appetite. (Harold leaves. The play is over.)

The Thing Itself by Arthur Sainer opened on July 20, 1967, at the Fkehouse Theatre, Minneapolis. It was directed by Sydney S. Walter, with lighting by Penny Winzen. The performers were James Berry, Paul Boesing, Marlow Hotchkiss, Muniera Jakobi, David Lueck, Antoinette T. Maher, Michael Monson, Martha Pierce, Daniel Priest, Carol Swardson, Penny Winzen, and Don Young.

42

JONATHAN GILLMAN

The Marriage Test

for Elizabeth

Cast of Characters ARNOLPH FELICITY HER MOTHER CONNUBIAL BLISS

THE MARRIAGE TEST

Enter A rnolph and Felicity. ARNOLPH

I will declare it until the sun itself hears and smiles in accord: I love you. FELICITY

I love you. Nothing stands between us and our happiness; my mother will gladly give her consent, I have mentioned the matter to her, we can be married as soon as you wish. ARNOLPH

Why do you love me, Felicity? FELICITY

You ask a question that has no answer. I love you because I love you; if I knew why it would not be love. ARNOLPH

Why did you love me at first? Wasn't there one of my features that especially attracted you? the shape of my mouth or the speed of my eyes or . . FELICITY I don't recall such a special attraction. At one moment there was a new presence in my life that filled all my corners with light; absent or present you were always with me, and I was in love with you before I could think how many days had passed since I knew you, what color your hair was, or whether it was night or day. You might have had six hands, my love would not have noticed. © 1968 by Jonathan Gillman. Address inquiries concerning performance or translation rights to Jonathan Gillman, 1514 Fremont Avenue North, Minneapolis, Minnesota 55411. 45

JONATHAN GILLMAN ARNOLPH

My dear, all men are not blessed with parts of equal quality. Some have smiling mouths and angry eyes, others graceful lips and bashed-in noses. I too am somewhat uneven, don't you agree? FELICITY

I do not. It isn't a composite of parts I love in you, my sweet, but you entirely. Look at your hand: here are four fingers and a thumb; how does that differ from another man's hand? Or your face: I see a nose, two eyes, a mouth; other men are much the same; some at a glance might be mistaken for you, but no matter what the similarities, you are you and they are they, and I do not love them. Why do you ask such questions? ARNOLPH

We are young and in love, and thus apt to see foolishly with the young eyes of lovers. But I will not always be young and handsome, you will not always be young and beautiful, we will grow older with the years. One day will find me such as you will not recognize me: my teeth will fall out, and my hair; my legs will grow weak, I will walk with a cane; my hands will shake and be idle; I will lose my hearing, lose my eyesight, and sit in a corner and mumble, nodding to no one. Will that still be the man you love? FELICITY

Oh, my dear Arnolph, you are foolish; of course you will still be the same man, and I will still love you. Wait but a moment, I wish to show you a proof of this. (Exit Felicity.) ARNOLPH

Many generations ago one of my father's ancestors performed a good deed in the Swedish forest for a female spirit; she rewarded him by winning for him the woman he loved, and becoming the guardian spirit of marriages in our family. To this day she presides over the testing of the bride-to-be with a test that is without fault; in our family, with the approval of her test, we have never known an unhappy couple. (Enter Felicity's mother.) MOTHER

My foolish daughter Felicity, she will never succeed in getting herself a husband unless she lets me watch out for her interests. She has a young man here she is so much in love with she doesn't know where they will live or what they will live on when they are married. I must take practical affairs into my own hands if they are to be managed properly. Arnolph, I am glad to find you. Don't you wish to ask me something? 46

THE MARRIAGE TEST ARNOLPH

Mother of the woman I love, the time is not yet come. MOTHER

I was expecting you to ask me for my daughter's hand. ARNOLPH

The time, I say, is not yet come for that happy day. MOTHER

What a strange man, and the words he speaks are stranger. Look how his eyes are; only lovers have those eyes that do not see what they are looking at. Arnolph, you will find my daughter makes an excellent housekeeper. Many young wives are nice to look at, but can do nothing in the kitchen. I raised my daughter at my side, she can cook any number of fine dishes, and will make the best kind of wife you can imagine. Now don't you want her to be your wife? ARNOLPH

It is for that I have asked dear Connubial here to test our love. MOTHER

Do you hear him? he is talking of another woman. What is this beautiful creature? ARNOLPH She is not beautiful herself, but what she does for others is too wonderful for words. MOTHER

My maternal fears are growing. Who is this charming object? ARNOLPH

In our house she is called Connubial Bliss. MOTHER

My worst fears are confirmed: he has another woman. ARNOLPH

She can make me happy forever. MOTHER

How cruel, to say this to the woman whose daughter loves you. ARNOLPH

Connubial will make your daughter very happy. MOTHER

My daughter can never be happy if a flighty thing is always in your thoughts. ARNOLPH

Connubial Bliss can bring us joy! 47

JONATHAN GILLMAN MOTHER

You hear how his talk becomes stranger and stranger. I knew my suspicions were justified. Didn't I say, "You are too much in love, daughter; if he shows you so much attention, perhaps it is to hide an evil intention." And now he admits it himself: he has taken a mistress to prove how much my daughter loves him. She is much deceived hi him, I fear; I will warn her to be wary. (Exit the mother. Enter Felicity, with the trunk of a puppet.) ARNOLPH

You were away so long, my love; surely a week has passed since you left. FELICITY

The minutes crept by like days, but I have returned, and have brought what I wished to show you. Do you see what I have in my hand? ARNOLPH

Yes, I see it, but it wouldn't matter if I didn't see it, for I don't know what it is. FELICITY

What do you think it looks like, my sweet? ARNOLPH

It looks like nothing; once perhaps it was something, but now it is nothing. FELICITY

Once it was something, and to me it is something still. When I was a child my mother gave me a puppet that was my favorite possession. I loved my puppet; everything I did, the puppet did too: we played together, talked together, sang together. However, the poor puppet was not a sturdy fellow, and I was too rough for him. One sad day a foot broke off, and an arm; another time it was a leg, and the other arm; slowly his hair fell out, an eye stuck shut, his mouth grew stuffed and would not move. In time he came to look like this. ARNOLPH

This is the puppet? No one but you would know it. FELICITY

Now he sits all day in a corner, he can do none of the things I loved him for, no one else even knows what he is, but he's my puppet and I still love him. ARNOLPH

Why have you told me all this, my love? 48

THE MARRIAGE TEST FELICITY When you have decayed as you threaten to do, I will still love you and this puppet too. ARNOLPH

A man is different from a puppet, my sweet; what did he eat —not meat like a man. A puppet you can put in a trunk and forget, but a man needs your constant care. FELICITY

And he will receive it. ARNOLPH

Dear, as my father's son I am blessed with a special spirit who can examine by a marriage test whether or not you will love me as you say on a distant day; if you will, I can marry you. For the sake of our love, do you consent to undergo this test? FELICITY

I love you, will always love you, and consent to this test as you wish. (Arnolph claps his hands.) ARNOLPH

Come forward, Connubial, your master calls. (Enter Connubial Bliss, a female spirit.) Connubial, you have forgotten the black cloth I told you to bring. (Exit Connubial.) Connubial is a good spirit, dear, and has served our family well for a long, long time, but she is inclined to be careless, and often misplaces things. (Enter Connubial, arms piled full of pieces of black cloth.) You may put the cloth down now. It is necessary to recite every detail to her, for she is only good at obeying. Connubial, I have called you here to perform the marriage test for us, according to the traditions and rites of our family, for whom you are the guarding spirit of marriage, as this young woman and I are in love and wish to marry. CONNUBIAL

The marriage test is a harmless way of determining, with the aid of the helpful spirit, whether or not the love of the couple will endure the changes of the years and the ravages that time can cause. ARNOLPH

Connubial, take your place. In this test, my dear, you see the possible effects that time may have on me. Connubial is endowed with the ability to remove my various parts . . FELICITY

Oh, my sweet . . ARNOLPH

And to restore them without harm at a later time.

49

JONATHAN GILLMAN FELICITY Is it safe, my dear? ARNOLPH

It is very safe, my love; Connubial is quite experienced in this task. For each part of me that she removes, you must examine in yourself whether or not you still love me, until the test has reached its conclusion. If at the end you love me, when I am old and decrepit and without parts, we are ensured our marriage will endure. But if you no longer love me, even in my present youth I will wither away, and with parts lost to faithless love die a faithless death. FELICITY I gladly consent to the test. I know I will always love you, but it is good to make certain beforehand. ARNOLPH

Connubial, you may begin. (Formal covering process: she wraps a foot in black cloth.) Do you still love me, my dear, although I am missing a foot? FELICITY

I love you the more, I pity your affliction. ARNOLPH

That is wonderful. Continue, Connubial. (His opposite hand is bound.) And now that I lack the use of a hand, how do you feel? FELICITY My love is growing in time. ARNOLPH

I know you will love me forever. Continue, good spirit. (One of his ears is covered.) And what do you say now? FELICITY

Is my poor dear comfortable? ARNOLPH

What? You must speak louder if you expect me to hear. FELICITY

I say I love you. ARNOLPH

Connubial, you must be more careful; I feel my foot growing back. FELICITY

The cloth is coming unwound, Connubial; bind it more tightly. (That leg is bound to knee.) ARNOLPH

Where did I leave my cane? 50

THE MARRIAGE TEST FELICITY

I will get it for you, my love. (His other arm is bound.) ARNOLPH

Will you lift the spoon to my mouth, sweet; in wet weather my arm will not bend. FELICITY

It is a joy for me to see you happy. (His stomach is covered.) ARNOLPH

Feed me my soup, my sweet; there are many foods I cannot eat. FELICITY My poor love, it is a wonder you stay alive with your meager diet. ARNOLPH

My other appetites have also diminished. FELICITY

Mine too will decline, and a change occur in my choice of pleasures. ARNOLPH

My head feels chilly when cold drafts blow; please cover it. (A cap is put on his head.} FELICITY

Many men are more handsome when they lose their hair. How much longer, Connubial; he is growing old so fast. ARNOLPH

Be patient, dear; it will take many years for me to decay so much. Will your love hold constant? FELICITY My love for you is strong, although you are not the man I loved a few minutes ago. But it is not easy to see a young lover grow old before one's eyes; I am young and want to think of today, you make me think of tomorrow and the years to come; it makes me sad. ARNOLPH We will be happy forever if your love is constant now. FELICITY

I am fortified against misfortune, my sweet. ARNOLPH

You may continue, Connubial. (One of his eyes is covered.} I can see the young men playing ball in the park; I wish I were young again. FELICITY Not I, my dear, I prefer you as you are. (His second leg is covered to the knee.) 51

JONATHAN GILLMAN ARNOLPH

I must travel on crutches, I am not as strong as I once was. FELICITY

I would not want you other than you are. (His second arm is covered.) ARNOLPH

I am not much use to anyone. FELICITY

We are thankful for the little time allotted us to live. ARNOLPH

Speak to me on the other side; that is my bad ear. FELICITY

I say I want no other husband. ARNOLPH

You are my sweet wife. Continue, Connubial. CONNUBIAL

I need no commands, sir, I know my task. (His nose is covered, and his second ear.) ARNOLPH

I still like to see the sun shine; it makes me feel like a man of fifty again. FELICITY Your wife is happy when you are happy. ARNOLPH

I cannot understand what you say, although I see your lips move. By that kiss I know you still care. (His other eye is covered.) Are you still there, my love? you have not deserted me? FELICITY No, I have not. (She kisses his cheek.) ARNOLPH

It is good to know you are here; you are my one source of happiness in the last days of living. (His mouth is covered.) FELICITY

How altered he is, how like my puppet. Heaven preserve my love. He will not be living much longer; what a sad sight to see. But I can look at him and say: this is my husband; as long as there is life in him, I am his wife. Continue, Connubial. CONNUBIAL

That is the conclusion of the test, mistress. If your love will last so long it will endure forever, and you may marry him. 52

THE MARRIAGE TEST FELICITY

Isn't it amazing how different he is now from the man I married, and yet to see how much my love has grown with the changing years. CONNUBIAL

You will alter as he does, mistress. FELICITY

Will he be constant in his love, as I am in mine? CONNUBIAL

Do not doubt it, mistress, the men in his family are famous for their constancy. FELICITY

If he were given the same test, with me grown old before his eyes, would he respond the same? CONNUBIAL

I assure you he would. FELICITY

My husband. (Enter the mother.) MOTHER

Daughter, I see your young suitor has left you. To speak frankly, I was beginning to doubt he had all his senses about him; does he seem sensible to you? FELICITY

Mother, how can you ask such a thing? MOTHER

Worse, it appears he is unfaithful. FELICITY

What are you saying? MOTHER

Only what he told me himself. He mentioned a charming creature who was his mistress, Connubial Bliss I think she was called. He's probably off visiting her at this very moment. Oh, daughter, what is this that looks like a dismembered corpse? Come away before you are harmed. Look how it stands there, without any support. This is not natural; daughter, do come away. FELICITY

Mother, that is a living man. MOTHER

Living? Oh, the poor thing. Don't approach it too closely, surely it carries diseases. It must be misery to live in such a condition; how old is he, a hundred and ten? 53

JONATHAN

GILLMAN

FELICITY

He is my age, Mother. MOTHER

My daughter is losing her senses. FELICITY

That man is my lover. MOTHER

My worst fears are confirmed: he has touched her with his madness. FELICITY

He isn't running around, Mother; this is a test he undergoes to prove my love. The Bliss you speak of is a good spirit; she has made him so, and can restore him to youth. MOTHER "Spirit," you say; oh daughter, surely you are crazy. The man with his fancy talk has made you believe these lies to hide from you his actual evilness. FELICITY The spirit stands in front of you, Mother; can't you see her? CONNUBIAL

To her I am invisible; since your father died, your mother has been without a man's love. Only those in love can see me. Look around you: I believe there are many here who perceive me. It shows that they have love. FELICITY Mother, that I can see her is yet another proof of my love. MOTHER

It is another proof of your madness. My poor daughter, you see things that are not, and hear strange words in the wind, which says nothing; you ignore the obvious and see the invisible. Daughter, I am sorry for this craziness. The heavens help us; the women in our family have always been made fools of by love. (Exit the mother.) CONNUBIAL

Do not fear, people always laugh at lovers, for there are things that only lovers can see. FELICITY

My mother will be reasonable when she sees him restored again. Now, if the test is concluded, you should restore my love to his youth. Why do you look so sad, good spirit; work to restore him. CONNUBIAL

Oh, mistress, until he commands it himself I cannot. 54

THE MARRIAGE TEST FELICITY You cannot? CONNUBIAL

No, mistress, until his mouth gives the command. Poor Connubial, I am sure my master will be angry with me. Like all young lovers he was too hasty; before I took away his power of speech he should have ordered me to restore him. Mistress, Connubial is a poor bungling spirit who does not learn from her mistakes; for his father, and for his father before him, poor stupid Connubial also covered his mouth too quickly. Poor Connubial. FELICITY

Isn't it rather poor us? Yet there must be a way to restore him; can you obey the order if I give it? CONNUBIAL

No, mistress, he must tell me himself: I am the spirit of his family. FELICITY

What can we do? CONNUBIAL

I don't know, sweet lady. FELICITY

I will be sad if we can do nothing. CONNUBIAL

I am sad now, in thinking of my master and his love, but mostly in thinking of the beating Connubial will get from her master. FELICITY How can he beat you if he has nothing to beat you with? CONNUBIAL

They always manage somehow, mistress. Look, he is angry, he is thinking of beatings. FELICITY

Suppose I beat you for him. CONNUBIAL

Please do not, kind mistress, for then we will never restore him. Poor Connubial; I can do much good, mistress, but my brain is not large. FELICITY

Connubial, I have a thought: if his father before him was bound up too quickly, somehow the command must have been given to restore him, for as I know he lived to marry and have children, and is still living. CONNUBIAL

You speak the truth, lady, I had forgotten. 55

JONATHAN GILLMAN FELICITY

What method did he use? Think, Connubial. CONNUBIAL

I cannot remember; I do not have much brain. FELICITY

Was he angry with you? CONNUBIAL

Horribly so, ma'am. Look, he's thinking of more beatings. Think for us, mistress; you are his love, you can think of a way. FELICITY

You can't simply restore the parts? CONNUBIAL

Oh, mistress, you do not know the powers. FELICITY

Let us think then. Since Arnolph is to be my husband in a lasting bond, perhaps I can help. Connubial, can you restore him so he can speak if you remove my parts? CONNUBIAL

Please explain to Connubial what the lady means. FELICITY

Can my husband's arm, for instance, be replaced, if first his wife's is removed, or his mouth restored, so he can give the order, if mine is covered? Like an exchange: I give up mine, and his are restored? CONNUBIAL

Yes, mistress, that is how the others did it. Oh, I wish I had a brain like yours. FELICITY

And it's only temporary, until he releases the spell? CONNUBIAL

Yes, that's how to do it. FELICITY

For our sake I will gladly let you remove my parts. CONNUBIAL

Then come stand beside him, mistress, with me between you, and let me start to work. (She starts to bind Felicity's foot.) FELICITY

Why not start with the mouth and make the task easier? CONNUBIAL

Mistress does not know the laws; there is an order that must be followed. 56

THE MARRIAGE TEST FELICITY Proceed then. (Connubial binds her foot, unbinds his leg, binds her leg; stops, crawls around.) What's wrong, Connubial, why have you stopped? CONNUBIAL

I see another beating coming; oh, poor Connubial, always getting herself in trouble. FELICITY

What have you done? CONNUBIAL

I cannot find the master's foot. Stupid spirit, will you never learn, not even after fifty beatings. Look how angry he is; if he had the foot he would kick me. There is always this danger with feet, ma'am, they like to walk away unless you tie them down. I don't see it anywhere. FELICITY

It can't have traveled far. CONNUBIAL

Oh, mistress, you don't know feet as I know feet; they love their freedom, they will walk for miles if master is not around. What a fearful beating I see for me. FELICITY

Well, we will find the foot; but first you should continue with the task of restoring your master. CONNUBIAL

So he can discover what I have done, that his dear beloved foot is missing? No, ma'am, it's better to leave him as he is and find the foot first. FELICITY I will plead with him in your favor if you restore us both; otherwise, any way you look a beating awaits you. CONNUBIAL

I will do what you say, mistress, to have you on my side. A master is frightful when he is angry. {She works at restoring; removes woman's arm and hand, restores his. Connubial gets tangled in black cloth, tries to fight her way out, gets more tangled.) FELICITY

Would you like help, Connubial? CONNUBIAL

Thank you, ma'am, but you have nothing to help me with; he has the hands and the arms, but he can't see the problems. (She raises his hand, sets it in a position, turns her back, his hand falls. Again she holds it up, puts a corner of cloth in his hand, clamps it shut, and unwinds. Connubial 57

JONATHAN GILLMAN continues restoring: all done but the face. Tentatively exchanges noses, then stops.) Think, Connubial, there is an order now that is important, what is it? There is a right way and a wrong way. I will try the mouth first. (She covers woman's mouth, uncovers man's.) ARNOLPH

Connubial, I'm eager to know: did she pass the test? CONNUBIAL

That was wrong, the mouth should not come first. ARNOLPH

Tell me, Connubial, relieve my suspense. CONNUBIAL

We have other problems now; yes, she passed it. ARNOLPH

Answer me, Connubial. CONNUBIAL

(loudly) You have no ears, sir, how can you expect to hear me? ARNOLPH

I will remember this insolence. CONNUBIAL

I should remove his mouth and run away. ARNOLPH

Darling, you can tell me yourself, I believe in your love. This is strange that my beloved does not answer me. I hope the marriage test was not the cause of problems. (Connubial exchanges mouths.) FELICITY Yes, my love, I passed the test; but it is still going on. (Mouths are exchanged.) ARNOLPH

I fear I am losing my voice; I just felt a strange sensation in my mouth. CONNUBIAL

He cannot hear, ma'am, I forgot. ARNOLPH

Connubial, have you done everything properly? CONNUBIAL

Not exactly, sir, but I am trying to do my best, and if you would not speak for a few moments, master, perhaps everything would soon be restored. Why did I work hard saying that? I wasted my breath. ARNOLPH

She does not answer me, I'm afraid she's doing mischief. Connubial, stay out of mischief! 58

THE MARRIAGE TEST CONNUBIAL

Yes, sir. What a sharp mind my master has; he can neither hear me nor see me, but he knows I must be in trouble. Very good, master. ARNOLPH

Connubial, it seems to me I had two feet earlier; now I only feel one. CONNUBIAL

Oh, mistress, he noticed. ARNOLPH

You know what happens to erring spirits. CONNUBIAL

Yes, sir. Why did I give him his mouth back? You stand still, sir, and you too, lady, and Connubial will work. How should it go? What about the ears? Very good, the ears. But not both at once: one at a time. Then they can both hear. (She covers one of Felicity's ears, uncovers one of his. Shouts) Master, can you hear . . (quiet) can you hear me, master? ARNOLPH

Why were you silent earlier? CONNUBIAL

No, master. ARNOLPH

Where is my beloved? (Connubial exchanges mouths.) FELICITY I am here, my sweet. I still love you. Do you love me? (mouths exchanged) ARNOLPH

Of course, my love; I am eager to see you again, your charming face, your graceful features, (mouths exchanged) FELICITY

I have somewhat altered with the passing years; you may not know me. (mouths exchanged) ARNOLPH

I will know you, everything will be as it was. Hurry, Connubial, I long to see her. (Connubial, by mistake, covers his ear, uncovers hers. He has mouth, she eyes and ears.) CONNUBIAL

That was wrong, you are giving parts back to him, not taking them away. It is so hard to keep track in this task. (Enter the mother.) MOTHER Daughter, I have further advice. Daughter? where have you gone? My daughter has disappeared, this man has bewitched her; look how he mocks 59

JONATHAN

GILLMAN

me with an evil smile. Answer me, you monster, where have you hidden my daughter? He doesn't answer, that confirms his guilt. ARNOLPH

It is strange to be bound without legs, without arms, without ears, without eyes; that is how the dead are, cold. MOTHER Oh me, do you hear what he says: my daughter is bound up like a dead person, without feet, without head. Only a mother would know her in such a condition. Here is another one, almost a corpse, all old and decayed. Young man, you are a brute too bad for words to do what you did to my daughter. And to think she thought of marrying him. The heavens help us. (Exit the mother.) CONNUBIAL

How she does talk. (Connubial completes exchange, so he is whole except for foot.) ARNOLPH

Where has my loved one gone, Connubial? Has she deserted me on account of my test? But what is this I see, what withered creature, old and decaying. I am looking for my loved one and this is all I find. My love will help me find her. Connubial, this is my bride-to-be; but what strange alteration has she undergone? Is it due to the folly of my marriage test? CONNUBIAL

That is the one you loved, master; have your affections changed? ARNOLPH

I am hi love with a young and beautiful angel, Connubial, I wouldn't dream of marrying one who has no teeth, cannot see or hear or walk. CONNUBIAL

Take care, master, the spirit of marriage hears what you say. Tell me your true feelings toward this old, decrepit creature. ARNOLPH If I saw her come to this condition slowly, and me in the like predicament, I could not help but feel affection for her. There is a sparkle in her cheeks that shows remnants of a youthful fire. I still see traces of what attracted me when we were younger, shadows of her beauty. Isn't she beautiful, Connubial, shouldn't the whole world be in love with her? CONNUBIAL Do you still love her, master? ARNOLPH

Yes, Connubial, as strongly and powerfully as ever. But I wouldn't have

60

THE MARRIAGE TEST her be old too quickly. I am young and full of love, I want her to be young again too. CONNUBIAL

Then you must command me to restore her, master. ARNOLPH

Connubial Bliss, as spirit of our ensuing marriage, I command you to restore Felicity to her youthful self. CONNUBIAL

As you desire, sir. ARNOLPH

Look at the graceful leg and dainty foot; and there another. And here a slender arm and nicely formed hand; and there another. Go slowly, Connubial, or I will fall in love with her again and double the amount of my previous love, which was already limitless. I cannot look; I will die of happiness. Look at her slender lips; I will seal them shut to prevent their saying any ill of me. CONNUBIAL

You hinder my work, sir. ARNOLPH

Delay a moment then. Do you refashion her from what she was, or is this the statue of a goddess? CONNUBIAL

It is the same one you loved, sir, and she loves you. ARNOLPH

My joy is doubly doubled. Look, there's her nose. People laugh at noses, but a face cannot be beautiful without one. And after that her ears, that hear my tender protestations of love. And to conclude, her eyes. Perceive the harmony of the whole, greater than the sum of her parts, that radiates with her enduring love. Is she real and alive, Connubial, or should I fear to break her if I touch her? FELICITY I am living, my love, but weak; please support me. ARNOLPH

It is so long since I last saw you. FELICITY

And I you, my love. CONNUBIAL

This is the conclusion of the test; it has been proven that your loves will endure. 61

JONATHAN GILLMAN ARNOLPH And now I can ask for you in marriage, my sweet. But one of my feet seems to be missing. Connubial. CONNUBIAL

He remembered, he is too quick with the brain. Yes, master? Here comes trouble now. ARNOLPH

What have you done with my foot? CONNUBIAL

Nothing, sir, it disappeared without my help. ARNOLPH

Do you realize what happens if you don't return it? CONNUBIAL Yes, sir, you are angry. ARNOLPH

And what happens to you? CONNUBIAL

I don't like to think about that. FELICITY

Don't be too angry, dear. I promised Connubial I would intercede on her behalf. We should pardon faults in others as we begin our marriage. CONNUBIAL

Thank you, mistress. ARNOLPH

I will bend before your desires, dear, if she restores my foot. However, if she does not, be careful, Connubial. MOTHER

(off) Daughter, daughter, come quickly, some strange animal is walking around. (Enter the mother.) It is following me; help, daughter; do you see it? FELICITY

Don't be afraid, Mother. CONNUBIAL

I will use my power on it. (Connubial goes off, returns with "foot.") How tired and lonely he looks; poor wayward foot. He was searching for his master. A foot likes his liberty, but only a little at a time. He prefers to have company. Here you are, master, restored to yourself. FELICITY

My beloved, how changed you are with the addition of a foot, only now do I love you as I did before.

62

THE MARRIAGE TEST ARNOLPH

Do not mock my marriage test, dear; it has provided for our future happiness. CONNUBIAL

Master, you must forgive me, and promise not to beat me. ARNOLPH

I do, Connubial, since I have been restored. But I hope you have learned your lesson, and will not misplace my children's feet when their tune comes. MOTHER

Daughter, here you are again, when earlier you had completely disappeared. Is this man the cause of these strange happenings? FELICITY

This is the man, Mother, who did it to test our love, with the help of Connubial here. MOTHER

How the poor thing talks. When I was young, did we ever consider testing love and how it would last? No, we went straight forward into marriage, seeing only each other and the present moment, and let the consequences follow as they would. And she still speaks of a spirit; she is certainly crazy. ARNOLPH

Madam, your daughter and I are hi love. MOTHER

Here is the other crazy one. Everything he says is contrary to common sense, all about spirits and a magic foot, and the Lord knows what else. ARNOLPH

With your permission, madam, we wish to marry, as it has been convincingly shown by a marriage test that we will be a happy couple. MOTHER

I have never before seen a man who was more of a fool, to subject his bride-to-be to a marriage test; on the other hand, I have never seen a woman who was more of a fool either, to love a man despite his spirits and his foolishness. And together they make a perfect pair of fools. But, if fools must marry, it is best if they marry each other, and have only one set of children who are fools, and keep their foolishness in their own family. FELICITY

Do you consent to our marriage, Mother? 63

JONATHAN GILLMAN MOTHER

If you wait for my word, wait no longer, may you be happily married, I give my consent. Give me your hands and I will join them. ARNOLPH

Good madam, that is the task of Connubial, our family spirit of marriage. MOTHER He is still raving. You speak of something that is invisible. ARNOLPH

But powerful nonetheless. FELICITY

Believe him in this, Mother, he speaks the truth. MOTHER

I see that the mother-in-law when she speaks sense will not be marked in this house. They only listen to each other and believe senseless things. It is better for me if I leave her with her folly and say nothing. ARNOLPH

It is Connubial who has proven our matrimonial solidarity, and Connubial who will in the coming years continue to bind us together; therefore it is Connubial Bliss who should join our hands. Where are you, Connubial? CONNUBIAL

Here, master; behind you. ARNOLPH

What are you doing down there. Why are you sad? CONNUBIAL

Not sad, master, happy; crying always overcomes me when I see two people about to be joined in everlasting happiness. Oh, my master. ARNOLPH Here is my hand. FELICITY

And mine. CONNUBIAL

Oh, my mistress. With the meeting of the flesh you are joined as one and pronounced to be man and wife, in which condition the good spirit Connubial Bliss will maintain you until death shall part you. We will celebrate more fully inside, and then some of us will discreetly retire, and leave the young couple alone to celebrate the first harmonies of a joyful union and a happy marriage. THE END

64

The Marriage Test by Jonathan Gillman opened on May 31, 1968, at the AnyPlace Theatre, Minneapolis. It was directed by Joseph T.Walsh. Cast of Characters ARNOLPH FELICITY CONNUBIAL BLISS MOTHER

Haimanot Alemu Duki Cyn Byrne Rise Ferster Terry Harris

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KEITH NEILSON

The End of the World or, Fragments from a Work in Progress

Cast of Characters CLUBWOMAN ALEXANDER JAMES AMOS STEIN BETTY LOU JOHNSON INTERVIEWER JANE JAMES THE DEAN MRS. JOHNSON ANN

GIRL STUDENT KATE BURKE JOHN BURKE LOUISE BERKOWITZ FIRST DETECTIVE SECOND DETECTIVE REV. GEORGE HOMEWOOD MRS. JAMES

Style and Setting The style of the play is fluid — almost cinematic. Scenes begin before others have ended and the action may seem to jump irrationally from time to time and place to place. The only organizational principle lies in the consciousness and sensibility of the protagonist, Alexander James. The scene is a collection of images that have persisted in Alex James's lifetune—a kind of mental attic. Physically the following must be represented: Centered at the very front of the stage is a simple lectern. To the right side of it is a small bar with bottles, glasses, etc. To the left, a small table containing a radio and a tape recorder. Behind these objects, on the right side of the stage, there should be a low-backed, overstuffed sofa and one decent chair. The left side of the stage, a generally emptier area, contains a long, low table with a straight-backed chair. At the rear of the stage is a staircase leading up to a platform and an open doorway. Near it is a large, covered manikin. At the rear of the stage, beneath the staircase, is either an old-fashioned, potbellied stove or a fireplace. A number of books, in bookcases and/ or scattered on the stairs and floor, can also be found in this general area and perhaps elsewhere as well. A large easel or wall space for a large painting and a blackboard and chalk are also needed in this area. On a slightly raised platform near the bottom of the staircase is one old-fashioned school desk. At least two masked exits are necessary at the rear of the stage so that characters can go quickly and silently on and off stage like figures flitting in and out of memory. The rest of the stage area may contain old boxes of books, mementos of youth and childhood, etc. — any bits and pieces of mental junk that seem appropriate to Alex's psychic warehouse.

THE END OF THE WORLD OR, FRAGMENTS FROM A WORK IN PROGRESS

ACT ONE At rise: Houselights up. The clubwoman enters and lights go to half. After she has begun her introduction, Alex James may enter with his agent, Amos Stein. Alex is a good-looking, well-dressed man of about thirty-five and he carries the typescript of a new novel. Stein is short, middle-aged, and bald. Perhaps he wears dark glasses and smokes a cigar. Alex banters from the sidelines as the clubwoman speaks. When Alex begins to speak the houselights go all the way down. CLUBWOMAN

(clearing throat) Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We, the Rochester County Ladies Auxiliary and Cultural Stimulation League, are extremely glad to welcome you all tonight to our little gathering . . to discuss what we hope to be the latest in cultural and aesthetic (stumbles on the word, "aee-ess-thetic") developments in our cultural and art scene, (glances quickly at card) Yes, art scene . . tonight we are indeed fortunate in having as our guest speaker a noted artist — novelist — whose novels you are all, I am sure, familiar with. His first novel, The Grapes of Tantalus, was a highly acclaimed work of art that won for him, I might add, the most famous award, the (glances at card) the "American Book Award." A very © 1967, 1969, by Keith Neilson. Address inquiries concerning performing or translation rights to Keith Neilson, care of University of Minnesota Press, 2037 University Avenue Southeast, Minneapolis, Minnesota 55455.

69

KEITH NEILSON rare thing, indeed, for a first novel . . or, for that matter, for any novel by a first novelist. I am sure you will all be happy to know that Mr. James is about to break his publishing silence of four years. He told me — (confidential) in the strictest of confidence of course — that he is "polishing up" . . that is, putting those "finishing touches" on his new manuscript and he said to me . . his best work. Yes, perhaps if we are especially lucky, he will let us in on just a bit of this new o-pus mag-nus. What it is all about. Well then, girls, here he is — Mr. Alexander Jamesl (Light applause. Alex goes to the lectern, greets the clubwoman, sets his manuscript on the stand, and begins.) ALEX My new novel is called Interiors. That's all there is. Of myself, I guess. A collection of passing references to whatever there is out there. Things I've seen, things I've felt. (A female laugh is heard. Betty Lou Johnson, a whorish-looking female of indeterminate age, appears at the rear of the stage and continues to laugh as Alex speaks. He tries at first to ignore her, but she gets louder and more persistent as he continues.) I try to put them down and they add up to . . something. That's all there is for the writer to do. The glimmers, glimpses of your life as you happen to touch them. (At this point Alex begins to talk drunkenly and staggers away from the podium and toward Betty Lou. He finishes the speech to her and she comes forward to meet his embrace. En route to her he turns on the radio and gets some soft, seductive music.) Write them down as you know they are getting faster and falser . . nothing more to be done . . (Betty Lou saunters over to the radio and changes the station to a loud dance number, Latin or folk-rock. She dances to it vigorously. He copies her in a vague drunken imitation. As he does so, he attempts to unzip her dress and gets the zipper partway down. They reel about the room a bit. Finally he comes to sit drunkenly on the edge of the sofa. Then they go into a clinch and he pulls her down on top of him. A few seconds of activity and then a moment or two of silence. While they are in the final stages of their embrace, a young man, the interviewer, enters and sets a portable microphone up on the table. He pays no attention to their activity.) BETTY LOU

(getting up from sofa) The son of a bitch has passed out. What a loser. (She stands up, straightens herself. She tries to zip up her dress, but it is opened too far. She gives up, mumbling an obscenity under her breath.) The "arteest" . . fah! Just another sloppy drunk, (pauses, shrugs) Well, might as well get something for my time. (She goes to her drink and takes it. Then she goes to the bar and fills the glass to the brim, sips it as she 70

THE END OF THE WORLD walks around the apartment. She goes to the radio and turns it off. By this time the interviewer has himself all set up and settled ready for an interview. Betty Lou looks at the tape recorder.) What the hell is this thing? (Not knowing what it is, she pushes the "on" button. When it begins she jumps back with a start. The tape is of a recent interview with Alex.) INTERVIEWER'S VOICE ON RECORDER . . And tell me . . are you related to the James family1} ALEX'S VOICE Of course. INTERVIEWER'S VOICE That is interesting. A present descendant of America's greatest novelist, Henry James. ALEX'S VOICE Henry James never married. He had no personal descendants, so I am not one of them. INTERVIEWER'S VOICE But you said . . ALEX'S VOICE Jesse. I thought you meant Jesse James. I am a collateral descendant of Jesse James. (On this last speech Alex talks over his voice on tape and gets up from the sofa. He goes to the "interview" table and sits. Betty Lou exits.) INTERVIEWER

Tell me, Mr. James, why did you call your first novel The Grapes of Tantalus^. I've read the book twice and there is no character in the book by that name. No grapes, either. ALEX Oh, you've noticed that? (pause) Tantalus was an unfortunate fellow who got himself put into whatever the Greeks used for hell. I don't remember what for. He was very thirsty and hungry and he was stuck in the middle of a pool of water with bunches of grapes hung over his head. Except when he stooped for the water it flowed out; when he went for the grapes, they jumped. That's where the English word "tantalize" comes from. INTERVIEWER

You mean he could never get anything to eat or drink? ALEX (getting up and walking away from the interviewer) Never, never never, never . . INTERVIEWER

(catching up to him) No matter what he did? How hard he tried?

71

KEITH NEILSON ALEX

(gruffly into microphone) Never! INTERVIEWER

(startled, jumps back) Of . . course . . (turns away and goes back to his table where he continues his interview) Isn't it true, Mr. James, that you were once a college professor before you became a writer . . a successful writer, that is? ALEX (moves toward the blackboard at the rear of the stage, picks up a piece of chalk from the tray, and turns toward the audience, as though to a college class) Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I want to talk with you about a subject that is very important to me. (writes on the blackboard as he talks) The topic of my lecture will be "The Necessity of the Creative Imagination in the Contemporary World." INTERVIEWER

Tell me, Mr. James, what is your feeling about the current "God is dead" controversy? ALEX (turning to him) It's like chastity; if you have to ask, you already know the answer. INTERVIEWER

I don't follow you, sir. ALEX

i DIDN'T KILL HIM! INTERVIEWER

Oh. (pause) You mentioned "chastity," Mr. James. Can I take it, then, that you are in favor of the so-called sexual revolution? ALEX

It was invented by Luce publications. INTERVIEWER

But your own works, which deal with sex so impressionistically, suggest an ambiguity toward the subject. Just why did you equate virginity with belief in God? ALEX (confidentially') I have no reason to believe that sex is dead. (Having finished writing his subject on the blackboard, he comes forward to the lectern. He scans the audience and then begins his lecture in a very oratorical style.) "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom . ." (Jane James, an extremely attractive female in her late twenties, rushes onto the stage and sits quickly at the school desk. Alex glances 72

THE END OF THE WORLD down at his wristwatch. She produces a notebook and begins to take notes.) "It was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the season of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of Darkness." (suddenly stops and glares at someone in the audience) Betty Lou Johnson, pull your skirt down! (calm, righteous) Trying to get your male classmates excited, aren't you? (Jane begins to laugh.) I know your type. I've known too many of your type. Of all ages. JANE (interviewer packs up his equipment and leaves) And are you still having those sex fantasies? Still undressing those little girls in your mind? ALEX

(turning to Jane) You keep quiet, Mrs. James. You may speak only if and when you raise your hand and are recognized. You will be called on in your proper turn! (He turns back to the audience.) Betty Lou, pull your skirt down. (A small, middle-aged, plain-suited man, with perhaps a pipe, enters . . the dean. He is played by the same actor who played Amos Stein.) DEAN

Mr. James, a parent would like to speak to you. JANE (to Alex) Do you still assume impossible postures and commit unspeakable acts on those pure, Bermuda-shorted young bodies? ALEX

They're not all that pure! DEAN Please, Mrs. Johnson must have a word with you. ALEX

(turns and continues his speech) "It was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going directly to heaven, we were all going directly to . ." DEAN (cutting him off, very heated) Please, Mr. James. I must insist that Mrs. Johnson be allowed to speak to you. (A sexy but worked-on woman of forty plus enters. The costume is different and the character has "aged" but the actress is the same one who played Betty Lou earlier in the scene.) MRS. JOHNSON

I know you're a busy man, Mr. James. I hate to take up your time like this. ALEX

That's perfectly all right, Mrs. Johnson. (He goes to her and begins to embrace, kiss, and generally paw her. Perhaps he even undresses her with the 73

KEITH NEILSON dean holding the clothes. Although he grows heated, she pays absolutely no attention to him. She talks while he plays.) MRS.

JOHNSON

(chatty) You simply must tell me about my daughter, Mr. James. Did you really have to flunk her in the course? I mean, why couldn't you have given her a "D" or an "Incomplete" or something? I know she copied her term paper out of a magazine and I agree that that is a frightful thing to do, a positive insult to your intelligence. But she's a young girl; she has a lot of social obligations. Dating, cheerleading. Besides, her father is in the hospital. Almost died from polio. Very serious in an adult, you know. He's in an iron lung. And I'm liable to go at any minute. I have a very bad spleen. (pause) Spleen, Mr. James. Did you hear that? ALEX

(abruptly ceases his pawing, stiffens to attention, and speaks in a highly formal manner) I regret to inform you, madam, that your daughter, the aforementioned Miss Betty Lou Johnson, flunked out of my class because she was a whore. (Mrs. Johnson slaps him and goes off in a huff.) Wait. Wait. Come back. I wasn't criticizing the girl. I only meant to describe what she was. I was making a point of information. (Jane laughs.) I love your daughter. But she will never be able to write a coherent sentence. She is beautiful and you should be proud of that. And she is good sex. I mean, she is inclined that way and she is good at it. She enjoys herself; she provides enjoyment . . what more is there? She is doing what she can do best. Who are you to say? WHAT'S WRONG WITH . . (Trails off, collapses next to Jane. This sequence should be tender . . almost a love scene; it can even be concluded with a kiss.) JANE You can't mean that sex is more important than syntax! ALEX Syntax is what gives logical precision to what we say, what we think, what we feel . . JANE And if it makes no sense? ALEX

Exactly. (The interviewer's voice comes back on tape. Alex gets up and slowly returns to the sofa, resumes the position Betty Lou had left him in. Jane exits slowly.) INTERVIEWER'S VOICE You are working on a new novel, aren't you, Mr. James? Could you tell us what it is all about? 74

THE END OF THE WORLD ALEX'S VOICE My new novel is called Interiors. That's all it is. Of myself, I guess. A collection of passing references to whatever there is out there. Things I've seen, things I've felt. I try to put them down and they add up to . . something. That's all there is for the writer to do. The glimmers, glimpses of your life as you happen to catch them. Write them down as you know they are getting faster and falser . . nothing more to be done. INTERVIEWER'S VOICE But is that enough to justify a novel? (Pause. A door buzzer breaks the silence. Alex gets up from the couch slowly, rubs himself, stretches. Amos Stein enters followed by Ann, a co-ed. She is moderately attractive, but definitely not beautiful. She wears a long raincoat fully buttoned up and seems surprisingly confident in this first meeting with an "important literary figure.") STEIN God, you're a mess. You've got a reading to do. You're going to be late. If I'd known I wouldn't have let the student chairman come along to fetch you. I should have known better. (Alex, more or less recovered, gestures a welcome. Stein walks agitatedly around, tries cleaning things up a bit, turns off the tape recorder. Ann stands motionless looking at Alex.) ALEX

Come on in, Mr. Stein. Come in, Mrs. Student Chairman. I won't be long. I'll put on my tie and drink a drink . . not in that order . . and I'll be along. STEIN (to student) I'm sorry about this. ALEX

(to student) He's always apologizing for me, this agent. He watches over me. He'll make somebody a wonderful mother. Fantastic agent. Just look at the name — "Amos Stein." Perfect. A black first name and a Jew last one. You can't do better than that. We've got the minority groups cold. And that's what you need if you're a serious writer, (pause; to Amos) Well, Amos, aren't you going to introduce me to your student committee? I must have a personal rapport with my audience before I can make any contact. STEIN Well . . I . . ANN

(cuts him off) We've already met. Two days ago. The reading begins at eight o'clock. 75

KEITH NEILSON STEIN

Eight o'clock. (Exits. Ann starts to leave, but pauses and, as she goes into the next speech, unbuttons her raincoat. She is wearing only a slip underneath it.) ANN

It's a beautiful thing you have going, really beautiful. The great novelist comes to the campus. He picks a sweet, young, eager, sensitive thing. She meets the great white artist . . beer pot and receding hairline. He meets eternal spring in a cheerleader's sweater. A few sips at the cocktail party and they tumble off to his apartment to play the beast with two backs. ALEX You've been reading too much Rabelais. ANN

No, love. I've been reading too much Alexander James. You've been reading too much Rabelais. ALEX Touche. ANN

You've given her her big memory. She's had her night with the famous writer. You've done your Boy Scout deed for the day; a real favor. An "experience" that should keep her for the rest of her life. You let the darling cast up her chastity before the altar. Q.E.D. (laughs) You were so annoyed when you found out I wasn't . . as they used to say . . "pure." ALEX And what do you call this little undergraduate melodrama, this dry run for the Homecoming Show: "Foiled in the Sack; or, The Co-ed's Revenge"? Who elected you avenging angel for despoiled campus virgins? (He turns away from her.) ANN

(a little sorry) I'm sorry. I didn't really mean all that. I guess I thought it was my big chance to show off before the "great man." (A girl student enters and hesitates, standing behind the desk. She is slim, dark, with long straight hair, and wears a black jersey, simple skirt, no makeup. She carries a spiral notebook and a few texts. At the beginning of the scene she speaks calmly with a kind of undergraduate earnestness. The others take no notice of her even though her speeches are interlaced with theirs. At times, however, Alex seems to sense her presence and may almost respond to her statements.) GIRL STUDENT

I don't know how to tell you this, Mr. James . . You don't know how 76

THE END OF THE WORLD much taking your course has meant to me. I mean really. You have a skill, Mr. James, a real talent for teaching. (She sits at desk.) ALEX "Great man" . . you're being sarcastic again. GIRL STUDENT

It's your enthusiasm. You're involved, really involved in those books. They are a part of you and it spills over. You make those books so exciting. ANN

I'm sorry I said that. My friends — the sincere ones — tell me I'm too clever for my own good. ALEX They're right. For God's sake, don't be too clever. It's the worst thing that can happen to you. Kill it. I know from experience. GIRL STUDENT

Dostoevsky. The Brothers Karamazov, what a book! I mean, really, I identify with him. "To love like more than the meaning of it." What about that? "If there is no God, then all is permitted." . . And that . . (pause) But if he's right. Ivan, I mean, Dostoevsky had God, at least he said so. But Ivan . . what has he got? ALEX You know you sound one hell of a lot like my wife? ANN

Is that a compliment? Isn't she an ex? ALEX Not exactly, (pause) Yes, it is a compliment of a kind. A hardness in both of you. A very female kind of hardness. Some sort of honesty, maybe, I don't know. GIRL STUDENT

And Kafka. That end of The Trial: "The casements of a window suddenly flew open; a human figure, faint and insubstantial at that distance and height, leaned abruptly far forward and stretched both arms still farther. Who was it? A friend? Someone who sympathized, who wanted to help? Was it one person? Or mankind?" (expansive) Do you think there is somebody like that, Mr. James? Someone to help? With the arms raised up? Too far away, maybe, too late, but there anyway? ANN

Why did you go for me anyway? I wasn't the prettiest one there. And I'm not the most likely target, either, believe it or not. 77

KEITH NEILSON ALEX I believe it. I don't explain or justify my attractions. Give yourself credit — you're an interesting "girl." GIRL STUDENT

(contracted) "But the hands of one of the partners were already at K's throat, while the other thrust the knife deep into his heart and turned it there twice . . 'Like a dog!'he said; it was as if the shame of it must outlive him." ANN

It's a shame I'm not more "exciting" though. ALEX You're just a teen-age romantic after all. I'll bet you keep pinups and collect forty-five r.p.m. records. GIRL STUDENT

(perhaps she should leave the desk at this time and "pursue" Alex a bit — still, of course, being completely ignored; more intense) And those authors. I understand them. How they felt. Dylan Thomas, Scott Fitzgerald . . why they drank. Why they had to race that thing in themselves. Fight it. Escape it. Fitzgerald walking around that big empty house in Cap d'Antibes with a water glass full of gin. (pause) Did Hart Crane really jump off the back of a steamboat straight into the paddle wheel? Agggg. What an ugly way. If I ever wanted to do anything like that I certainly wouldn't pick anything so painful, so disfiguring. (She returns to her desk.) ALEX Well, in a way you do remind me of someone. ANN

See . . I said it. ALEX And I'll be damned if I know why, either. You don't look like her and you sure as hell don't act like her. ANN

Wouldn't cooperate, eh? ALEX No, nothing like that. I never tried, (pause) She was just a student of mine. I haven't thought about her for a long time. GIRL STUDENT

I've written this poem. I wonder if you would be willing to look at it? ALEX She wrote poetry or something like that. 78

THE END OF THE WORLD GIRL STUDENT

(opening a spiral notebook) "In Death We Trust." That's the title. Oh, I know, it's a bit romantic, a bit much. Don't smile at it, please. But isn't it the work, the poem, that justifies the title? Don't you think? I'll change the title if . . if after I read it to you, it still seems pretentious. I'll change it. I respect your opinion. I take it very seriously. ALEX I can't even remember her name. (As the girl student speaks, Alex goes to the books and searches through them for the notebook containing her poetry.) ANN

What about her? Just a student? ALEX (matter-of-factly, as he searches) She committed suicide. One Christmas vacation, she borrowed a girl friend's apartment and put her head in the oven. ANN

That's horrible. ALEX A very common method for women. Especially female poets. It's become damn near a fad. They tend to rebel against the cosmetic disadvantages of cutting, shooting, and hanging. But I wonder if they realize what carbon monoxide does to the complexion. Turns it bright blotchy red. Very unflattering. Better than blood and gaping wounds, perhaps, but still not very attractive. (He finds the notebook.) ANN

What did you do? ALEX (tosses the notebook aside) Nothing. She came to my office a few times to talk. A very intense girl. ANN

I guess so. GIRL STUDENT

"In Death We Trust." Here it is. First verse. Tell me, God or man, the shape and span of hell. Dante's bureaucracy? Brueghel's orgy? Bosch's festival? Or modern: 79

KEITH NEILSON Joyce's fuming bodies, Sartre's room; Shaw's joke? Marlowe's red friend knew the only answer: "Hell hath no limits; nor is circumscribed In one self place; for where we are is hell, And where hell is there must we ever be." God has made his room for us and left it. ALEX

How could I know how sick she was? ANN

Sick? ALEX

Of course. Why else would she kill herself? She was young and healthy. ANN

Maybe she took the books too seriously. ALEX That's not funny. GIRL STUDENT

Mothers and fathers hunch like withered grapes on dying vines above us. They have no juice and their seeds are sterile hanging above us, waiting on thread-thin stems to drop beneath our heels, providing no nourishment from inside their puckered skins. ALEX (speaking simultaneously with the last five lines of the poem) She came up to my office a few times, like I said. At first it was just to talk books. She had good taste, too. You know, Dostoevsky, Kafka, Beckett, Dylan Thomas, Rilke. The usual list, of course, but a good one. ANN

The sick ones. ALEX

Then she showed me some of the stuff she'd written.

80

THE END OF THE WORLD ANN

And you told her it stunk. ALEX Of course not. I told her to . . work on it. GIRL STUDENT

Give me time and warmth to find in sounds and smells and sweats some place of love and sense . . (Ann goes to the radio and turns it on. Alex returns to the notebook and looks up the poem. He mouths the last words of the poem along with the girl student.) if not with those of blood then others, people or things ideas or impulses, emotions like weak weeds smothered in clusters of thick and fetid flowers ALEX It's easy enough to see in retrospect, but we never see the thing at the time, do we? (goes to radio and shuts it off) ANN

(very sarcastic) No, we don't, do we? ALEX Well, it was lousy poetry. What should I tell every frenzied, eager female, every twitchy, effete freshman boy with their blood on paper . . that it's good? That they're young geniuses? Crap! You tell them to work on it some more. They get tired and quit! ANN

Or stick their head in the oven. ALEX Cut that out. ANN

Thanks to Jesus that all I had to offer you was one night. GIRL STUDENT

(more softly)

I stretch my toes to feel

81

KEITH NEILSON the velvet padded bottom, clumped and buttoned, like grandmother's pink quilt. I lie like an old book to mildew hi this my final bed and box. (very softly, almost sensuously) The dirt is warm and my quiet sister rocks me. (pause) Would you deny me this peace? ANN

(gets up, goes to her clothes, as the girl student exits') It's about time I got dressed; I have a ten o'clock class. I'm still a student, you know. (Alex goes to Ann and helps her finish dressing. Then, -with great tenderness, he kisses her. A few moments after they part Ann begins to giggle.) ALEX What's that for? ANN

(still laughing) Nothing. Nothing, really, (pause) Have you ever heard of the James-Lange Theory of Human Behavior? ALEX What? ANN

I just thought of it. I had to write a paper on it once. It's actually two theories; James had one and Lange had another. But that doesn't make any difference. I thought of it just now. ALEX

What are you talking about? (At this point Kate Burke, a plain but not unattractive woman who is quite pregnant, enters with a tray of cheese, a wine bottle, and some glasses. She begins to prepare the snack at the table while this other sequence ends.) ANN

You do a thing, then you feel the emotion. It has something to do with the circulation of the blood. Emotion follows action . . You kiss me; you hope something will happen. (Alex doesn't respond; having finished the details of her dressing, Ann moves to leave.) Goodbye, Alex. I'm glad I met you and spent some time with you. (Ann exits. A lex turns around and straightens up the stage area a bit. John Burke enters with a large painting 82

THE END OF THE WORLD in hand. John is a huge, bearded, more or less Bohemian-type artist . . preferably a Falstaffian sort. He hangs the picture and stands back to admire it. After a moment or two he announces his presence.) JOHN (with a flourish) Ta-tum! ALEX (turns and also looks at the picture admiringly; perhaps they puff cigars) It's great. It's really great. It looks like, you know, something. What the hell is it? Looks like some sort of orgy. KATE (softly) I think it's a picture of the Garden of Eden. Before the snake. (She points.) There he is in the corner. Watching. Waiting. He hasn't decided yet what he's going to do. JOHN Nonsense! You're both putting me on. You mean you can't recognize the scene? Really? ALEX AND KATE

No, really we can't. JOHN (looking at the picture) "Abraham and Isaac and the Ram." You know the story, of course? ALEX Yes . . I . . JOHN

(paying no attention to Alex) "And they came to the place which God had told him of; and Abraham built an altar there . . and bound Isaac his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood. And Abraham stretched forth his hand, and took the knife to slay his son. And the angel of the Lord called unto him and said, Abraham, Abraham . . lay not thine hand upon the lad . . for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thine . . only son from me. And Abraham lifted up his eyes . . and behold behind him a ram caught in a thicket by his horns; and Abraham went and took the ram, and offered him up for a burnt offering hi the stead of his son." (pause) Beautiful, isn't it? What faith. King James Version. ALEX

KATE

Amen, brother, amen. Hallelujah. ALEX Why didn't you sell it? Your first one-man show; you sold everything else. You're a big man in the art world today. So why not this one? 83

KEITH NEILSON JOHN This one? This is my masterpiece. I don't sell my masterpiece. ALEX I thought all John Burke paintings were masterpieces? JOHN They are, but some are more masterpiecy than others. ALEX So that's why you won't sell it? JOHN Sell it? No. Not in a million years, (pause) But . . I just might give it away, (pause . . sincere) To you, Alex friend, for safekeeping, friendship, and old times. ALEX You're a sentimental old bastard. Right out of La Boheme. A sentimental old bastard. JOHN Why not? (leads the group to sit down and begins tossing cheese and giving out wine) Besides, I'll not call it a gift, after all. Call it a loan. A permanent loan. So that if I should ever change my view of things, if I should ever come to hate your guts, at any time, for any combination of reasons, I can take it back . . or break it over your ass, as suits my fancy. ALEX As suits your fancy, (pause) You don't even care about the money. JOHN (laughs) Money? Money? Who cares about money? The creation is all that matters. Everything else is refuse. Money is the incidental afterbirth of creativity, that's all. ALEX Oh, God. It's philosophy now. JOHN Me? Philosophical? God no! I just paint. ALEX And don't bother with what it's all about, eh, John? JOHN 1 never think about that sort of thing. That's for your kind. I only fill canvasses and walls with lines and colors. If that white space . . inside the edges of that frame . . makes sense . . that's enough. My limits are small. ALEX And you never spread beyond them? 84

THE END OF THE WORLD JOHN Never! ALEX

Not a very enlightened attitude. JOHN I had a friend once. A heavy drinker, (pause) He had bad coloring. Because of this his friends urged him to have a physical examination. Since he was a conscientious fellow he did so. The doctor, a wheezing, myopic old man, told my good friend that he had terminal cancer of the liver. Thereupon, my friend collapsed dead on the spot. From a heart attack. After the fact, the quack admitted he wasn't sure he had even read the right X-rays. Moral: don't jump to conclusions, don't go outside of your orbit. ALEX That's two morals, neither of them right. Don't act on your insights, that's what you're trying to say. JOHN

Ridiculous. Remember how things were before. We got along, because we didn't give a shit. If you don't give a shit, they can't get you; there's nothing they can do to you. Once you don't care about bad breath, whether your armpits stink, whether or not your car has sex appeal, then you're a free man. You can't starve in this country; there's too much lying around. You can steal it, or wait for 'em to give it to you. Just don't get sucked up in their idea. Keep a sense of proportion. ALEX Poverty's nostalgic as hell when you're rich. But you wouldn't trade it even up. You know goddamn well you wouldn't. JOHN

Not nostalgia, Alex my friend, only a good memory, (pauses . . smiles') And we did have some good times. Those days when we didn't have a damn thing except ideas, guts, and a strong stomach, (gets up and goes over toward Kate) Good old carefree days when sweet Kate was a cute little sexy-box, not all this blown up. (places his hand over her stomach like a basketball player palming a ball, holds it there as he speaks) My God, it's big and bouncy. My God, I'm creative. Everything I touch turns to life! (releases his hand from her stomach and begins to walk around the stage) Images leap off canvasses. Colors erupt over the edge like lava. (points to Kate) Babies explode from wombs like popcorn! (looks closely at the picture again) You'd think I mixed sperm with the oils the way they 85

KEITH NEILSON breathe life! (walks to Kate, kisses her on the forehead) A sweet girl. Worth it. ALEX You've embarrassed the poor thing. JOHN Nonsense. Katy doesn't embarrass. She wouldn't dare, (laughs) She's seen the worst . . and survived! ALEX Beauty and the beast. JOHN

Right. But you're only looking at surfaces. Katy, she sees beneath surfaces. She sees beauty in the beast, (laughs') ALEX Oh, come on. JOHN Listen to this. (He leads Alex to the couch and sits him down for the "show." Speaks in a very Shakespearean manner.) "If thou canst love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sunburning . . If thou canst love me for this, take me; if not, to say to thee I shall die is true but for thy love, by the Lord, no; yet I love thee too . . If thou would have such a one, take me; and take me, take a soldier; take a soldier, take a king. And what say'st thou to my love? Speak, my fair . . and fairly, I pray thee." KATE You'll do. JOHN

(embraces her) I'll do. You're right, I'll do, sweet Kate . . anything I can for you. ALEX

This is getting pretty sticky. JOHN

(hoarse whisper) He's jealous of us, Kate. How could such a fat and sloppy fellow get such a woman, he's saying. But don't listen to him, Kate love. (He kisses her quickly, but intensely.) "O Kate, nice customs curtsy to great kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion. We are the makers of manners, Kate . . Therefore, patiently and yielding." (kisses her again, this time more intensely) "You have witchcraft hi your lips, Kate." Kiss me again, Katy. (He leans to kiss her again; she stops him.) 86

THE END OF THE WORLD KATE

"What, in the midst of the street?" JOHN "What, art thou ashamed of me?" KATE "No, sir, God forbid, but ashamed." JOHN

(lascivious) "Why then, let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away." (Spins her around, places both hands on her breasts, and begins to "ride" her; she fights this off.) KATE "Nay, I will give thee a kiss; now, pray thee, love, stay." (They kiss.) JOHN "Come, Kate, we'll to bed." ALEX (suddenly jumping up from sofa) ". . hark you, Kate. I must not have you henceforth question me Whither I go, nor reason whereabout; Whither I must, I must; and to conclude, This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate." KATE (laughs) "Good night, sweet prince." (She moves toward him; John grabs her back.) JOHN Not staying for the main event? No heart for combat? ALEX

No stomach. (John laughs.) Besides, I want to take this thing before you change your mind, (points to the "Abraham" picture) JOHN

I'll wrap it for you. Meanwhile, you may give Katy one goodnight kiss. (takes pictures and exits) ALEX

(arm around Kate's shoulder) I'm happy for both of you. Now you can relax a bit. (looks at her stomach) A good time for it, too. KATE

We'll eat better, anyhow. ALEX Somehow the idea of John reading Spock instead of Kafka . . 87

KEITH NEILSON KATE

He reads Spock and Kafka. ALEX (serious) You say that strangely. KATE Do I? I don't know. The changes maybe. A lot of things happening to us. ALEX The baby? KATE

I don't know. I don't think so. Only . . ALEX

Only? KATE

(shrugs) Success, I guess. What happens next? What do you do after you've made it? Where can you go? ALEX To more success, of course. KATE

But it's not the same thing. If you don't know what's coming next, where your next meal is coming from . . you just plug along, (pause) But when you've made it; when you don't have any more small, day-after-day problems . . (She trails off.) ALEX

You find big ones? KATE

Do you? I don't know, (pause, brightens) Oh, why am I going on? (yawns) I'm sorry, Alex, I'm not used to this. ALEX

Mama's bedtime. KATE That is it. Enjoy your picture. ALEX

Yes. It'll look good in my apartment. A lot of empty space to cover. KATE With Jane gone? ALEX (nods) With Jane gone. KATE I'm sorry . . 88

THE END OF THE WORLD ALEX (forced smile) Forget it. I'll be seeing you. (Alex goes out with Kate. Jane comes through the other entrance. Alex re-enters with the picture under a cover. He removes the cover, hangs it up, and stands back to admire it. Jane -walks around the stage area. Finally she sits on the sofa and glances at him for a couple of moments.) JANE

All right, Lexy, it's your turn. You want me back. Why? (pause) If you need me so much, you ought to be able to say why. You're articulate; that's your business. Ar-tic-u-late your position, professor. ALEX (turns to her) That's not an easy thing to do. JANE Of course it isn't. Did you think it would be? ALEX

(soberly, a bit stiff) I have thought things over carefully. Our quarrel was senseless. I admit it was my fault, that's all there is to it. I can't see anything keeping us from getting together again. JANE You can't? ALEX No, I can't. It was all completely wrong. (Jane suddenly bolts from the sofa and heads for the bar.) Here, let me fix you one.

JANE

(sharply) I'll mix my own, thanks. (She mixes a drink, takes a sip and turns.) ALEX Please, Jane, we can be sensible. (She glances at John's picture.) JANE Something's been added in my absence. ALEX John gave it to me. It's a picture of . . JANE (cuts him off) Don't tell me. I'll guess. It's a picture of King Kong dropping the white girl from the Empire State Building while he takes a swing at one of the airplanes. ALEX That sounds good. But what does it mean? JANE That's easy. King Kong represents the artist in society. The white girl, of 89

KEITH NEILSON

course, represents the normal personal life. She's the wife, the family life, and all that sort of thing. Kong drops her in order to take a swipe at the airplanes. They are society, or God, or his own hang-ups, or whatever it is he thinks are chasing him. (pause) How's that for analysis? ALEX (claps) Very ingenious . . but obvious. JANE

(standing rigidly) "Truth," she said, standing rigidly at attention, "is always obvious." ALEX And of course you must remind me that the airplanes got him in the end. JANE Oh, did they? I hadn't remembered how it all came out. (pause) You have thought things over "carefully." (pause) Bullshit! (pause) To use the vernacular. I didn't leave you because of any argument; I left you because of you! I was sick of riding your goddamned emotional seesaw! ALEX I need you. JANE You sound like a bad novel. ALEX I suppose I do. JANE

Not one of yours, of course. You'd never be so obvious. And never write about anybody who needed anything. You'd stretch your hero's simpleminded frustrations into thousands of convoluted, unintelligible words designed to express his "inner state of being." (pause) As I said not too long ago, I'm just weary . . just plain tired . . of your long-winded, unpunctuated prose, as I am of your long-winded, unpunctuated, emotional nothing. ALEX I meant what I said. JANE Pushed to your limit, with all your so-called talent, you come up with the same dumb cliches as any other simple jerk. ALEX You are going to be rough, aren't you? Make Alex sweat a bit; make him crawl; let him know the score. JANE Not at all. I really don't care, (pause) So you need me. You need an auto90

THE END OF THE WORLD matic transmission because you're too lazy to shift gears. Who cares what you need! If you need me, that is just too bad. That is your own private problem and you will have to deal with it in the confines of your own private soul. ALEX I don't know what you are driving at. JANE Sure you do. You'll get your fill and you think that's that! ALEX You're wrong this time. JANE

You'll get your fill. ALEX I won't. JANE

(continuing) . . And then you'll want to spit out the rest. You'll get bored. ALEX (heated, cutting her off) What do you want? Me to admit that I'm a failure! That for everything good . . right . . that I've got down on paper, I have a screw-up in real life? That I botched it with you? That I'm the villain: You're the victim? All right! I admit it! JANE (softly) You know, guilt is a beautiful emotion. So practical, too. It allows a person to punish himself, expiate his crimes, and indulge in his favorite pastime — self-pity. All at the same time. Do all of that and still be "sincere." ALEX

(pause) Why the hell did you come back? (goes to the couch, lies on it, and turns away from Jane) JANE

I really don't know. Maybe I'm soft. Curiosity? Masochism? A good time? You always have been good for a laugh. ALEX I'm glad I'm not all bad. JANE I'm not complaining. I made my choice. You may not have been worth it, but that's neither here nor there. ALEX You made my bed and you enjoyed being laid in it. 91

KEITH NEILSON JANE It wasn't always bad, no, but . . ALEX (cutting her off) But . . time goes on. Little Janey's all wore out. Pities for poor Janey. JANE Once upon a time . . not as long ago as it seems . . little Janey met big Alex . . striving, impoverished instructor of freshman rhetoric and junior college remedial reading . . and finishing his first novel by the flickering lights of the old wood-burning stove . . (At this point they both go into a kind of reverie. They do not speak directly to each other, but are obviously aware of what the other is saying. The speeches may overlap. As they go on, the mood becomes progressively serene and nostalgic.) ALEX . . At least one sixty-watt uncovered bulb, really, and a chair, a typewriter. If not a bed, at least blankets. A bed, too, probably . . JANE . . And she was attracted to him not by his looks . . which were routine . . nor his animal magnetism . . which was minimal . . nor even by his "artistic temperament" . . his "brooding sensitivity" which he had cultivated before his mirror while shaving and reciting loud, bad poetry. She know that "artistic types" made lousy lovers and more lousy husbands. The fakes are too busy posing and the real ones . . if there are such animals . . are too preoccupied with themselves, making love to their own creations . . ALEX Six hundred and forty-three genius-provoked pages. Typewritten, doublespaced. The girl wore a dirty sweater, several sizes too large, and sneakers, without socks. The boy . . man, that is . . wore two sweaters because the heat was shut off and ice had formed on the windows. He had to type with gloves on. She, on the sofa, under a blanket, wouldn't go to bed, had to stay up to the end. Stuck her head out every once in a while to comment, to joke, to tell her dreams . . JANE . . No, she was attracted to an energy, an enthusiasm for what he was doing. She thought this would spill over. And he was any, unpredictable . . almost wild. She had met him at a party. He was wearing a sheet, carrying a huge wooden cross . . and sipping martinis. ALEX . . Before she met him she'd thought about becoming an actress: summer 92

THE END OF THE WORLD stock, community theatre, a part in a dinner theatre opposite the TV star making a guest appearance in Picnic, (pause) But she never really was any good. Pretty, but not pretty enough: a bit too self-conscious. A bit too sharp in her movements. And, like him, she didn't want to be anything if she couldn't be the best, the very best . . JANE

. . And in those younger years that sort of thing impressed her. But more than that an attitude toward life . . capital L . . that she sensed in him . . but she found that the enthusiasm was only nervous energy and the sensitive eyes were really just blanks, emotionally bland. She was reading into them her own ideas, feelings . . ALEX She stayed under that blanket until he finished. He promised to eat real meals with her, to come to bed not completely drained. Not that he was apologizing . . she didn't ask it, expect . . (pause) They celebrated the birth with a gift bottle of Chateau . . TOGETHER

Mouton-Rothschild. ALEX

Nineteen twenty-nine. JANE In paper cups, (pause) ALEX (hesitating) Saving this . . (He produces a bottle of wine from the debris at the rear of the stage.) It seems as good a time as any. Shall we? JANE It seems . . appropriate. (He quickly opens the wine, Jane digs out some paper cups, he pours two cups of wine, they toast.) ALEX

To . . things . . (Suddenly a short, chubby woman —the clubwoman of the play's beginning — appears.) LADY

Do you realize, sir, that the unavailability of fresh fish in Argentina . . due to the fact that it is a landlocked country . . has resulted in severe vitamin deficiencies among the less privileged native classes? This is a problem that can be eliminated only if a concerned humanity comes to the aid of such unfortunates. ALEX (goes immediately to her) Come in . . please! 93

KEITH NEILSON LADY

(taken aback) Oh . . thank you. I am Louise Berkowitz. Mrs. Berkowitz, that is. ALEX Of course. MRS. BERKOWITZ

I'm here selling magazines on behalf of . . ALEX Congratulations, Mrs. Berkowitz, you are the one-hundredth visitor to our apartment. Let me officially proclaim you the "Grand Mistress of Festivities." (He shakes her hand vigorously; perhaps he puts a Hawaiian lei around her neck.) MRS. BERKOWITZ

Oh, my, I don't know. JANE

Don't mind my husband, Mrs. Berkowitz, he's just kidding you. He's a great kidder, he is. ALEX (charming) I hope you didn't mind my having a little fun with you, Mrs. Berkowitz. MRS. BERKOWITZ

Oh, no. ALEX

(leads her to the best chair) Please sit down here, Mrs. Berkowitz; it's our most comfortable chair. Please excuse my levity, but we're celebrating. Join us, won't you? (He forces a glass of -wine into her hands.) MRS. BERKOWITZ

Well, no. I shouldn't. I'm working. It's not proper. ALEX Please. MRS. BERKOWITZ

If you insist. I suppose, a little. ALEX

Thata girl. MRS. BERKOWITZ

(taking a good sip, makes a slight face, swallows it; forcing) That was very good. A little more sour than what I'm used to. What kind is it? ALEX (very Frenchy) Chateau Mouton-Rothschild, mille neuf cent vingt-neuf. (gestures with the bottle like a wine steward) 94

THE END OF THE WORLD MRS. BERKOWITZ

Oh, my. Isn't that nice, (sips) To be really honest, I actually prefer my wine a little sweeter than this. And I don't drink very much of it. Once in a while, before dinner, as a kind of appetizer, I'll have a small glass of Mogen David. I enjoy that very much. It has a real wine flavor. Sweet, of course, but very nice. ALEX Yes. Mogen David is very nice. We enjoy that too. MRS. BERKOWITZ

Oh, yes, it's quite good, (pause) And what are you celebrating? ALEX A birth. MRS. BERKOWITZ

How nice. How long ago? ALEX

(glances at wristwatch) About ten minutes. (Mrs. Berkowitz looks at Jane who laughs.) JANE

What would you like to talk to us about, Mrs. Berkowitz? MRS. BERKOWITZ

Oh, yes, magazines. I'm selling magazines. The most popular ones, at substantial reductions, to qualified persons. On behalf of "Woman's Appeal," a nonsectarian charitable organization. A group of concerned homemakers like yourself, (looks at Jane who laughs) We want to make things better for those less fortunate. We ask nothing for ourselves, personally. ALEX (sincere) That is very good of you. MRS. BERKOWITZ

(embarrassed) Yes. I . . we . . feel that everyone must do their part. I . . we . . expect to . . (trails off) ALEX

That's very true. Tell us, now, what do you have to offer us, Mrs. Berkowitz, hi the way of bargains? Because, even though I am sympathetic to your cause, I must look at this matter from a solid business standpoint. MRS. BERKOWITZ

Oh, are you in business Mr. . . ALEX

James. MRS. BERKOWITZ

Mr. James? 95

KEITH NEILSON ALEX

No. MRS.

BERKOWITZ

(pause) If I may ask, what do you do for a living? ALEX I write novels. Lascivious novels. MRS. BERKOWITZ

Isn't that interesting. ALEX

Full of sexual aberrations, four-letter words . . (Mrs. Berkowitz jumps up and begins to go through her sales kit.) MRS. BERKOWITZ

I'm selling magazines. You're a writer. You might be interested in . . (pulls out a copy of the Saturday Review) The Saturday Review of Literature. ALEX (recoiling in fright) Never. Never touch it. None of that intellectual stuff for me. MRS. BERKOWITZ

(baffled) Oh my. I don't know . . ALEX What I want, Mrs. Berkowitz, is something about life. As it is lived, in everyday life, by ordinary people. Something simple and true. MRS. BERKOWITZ

(hesitating) How about . . the Reader's Digestl ALEX

Excellent! Give me a year's subscription. What else? MRS. BERKOWITZ

Saturday Evening Post? It has some interesting . . ALEX (cuts her off) Sold! MRS. BERKOWITZ

Life Magazine? It has such fine pictures. And it covers just about everything. ALEX

Wonderful! Sounds like just the sort of thing I've been looking for. MRS. BERKOWITZ

(enthusiastic) How about this one? A wonderful magazine for an active man like yourself.

96

THE END OF THE WORLD ALEX Sounds good. MRS. BERKOWITZ

Sports Illustrated^. ALEX

Sign me up! JANE

Sports Illustrated . . you? MRS. BERKOWITZ

What kind of subscription would you like? ALEX (conspiratorial) What's the best deal? MRS. BERKOWITZ

We have a wonderful offer on a five-year subscription. ALEX

Great. That's it. JANE Are you out of your mind? ALEX A five-year subscription to Sports Illustrated Magazine is exactly what I would like to have, (to Jane) I'll have you know my dear, that I am a jock-strap from way back. I even . . and you won't believe this . . played three games of American Legion Junior Baseball. JANE

Must have been hell sliding into second. ALEX (fake cowboy accent) Men were tough in them days, (to Mrs. Berkowitz) But my real sport was basketball. I had the greatest playground hook shot on the block. Watch this. (He takes Mrs. Berkowitz by the hand and leads her toward the center of the stage.) MRS. BERKOWITZ

I don't know . . ALEX

I want to show you something. Raise up your arms like this. (He raises her arms in the air, then grabs a pillow, and throws it to a startled Jane who grabs it automatically; he then turns his back to Mrs. Berkowitz and speaks to Jane.) Okay, toss it back to me. (Jane tosses him the pillow.) Guard me, Mrs. Berkowitz! Watch this one. MRS. BERKOWITZ

(speaks simultaneously with Alex's last sentence) My goodness! (Alex 97

KEITH NEILSON jakes with the pillow a few times and finally lets go with a sort of righthand hook shot. The pillow hits a lamp and sends it smashing. Everythin stops.) MRS. BERKOWITZ

Oh, my, you broke your lamp to bits. ALEX Doesn't matter. We had fun, didn't we? And thanks so much for helping me out with my little demonstration. You would have made a great basketball player, (arm around her shoulder) You know, Mrs. Berkowitz, you remind me very much of my mother. I am so happy you stopped in to see us. MRS. BERKOWITZ

I'm very glad I did, too. ALEX And how about some more magazines? MRS. BERKOWITZ

That's all I've got. JANE

Thank God. ALEX What a shame. MRS. BERKOWITZ

I'd better be getting off. It's been very nice talking with you. ALEX I've enjoyed every minute of it, Mrs. Berkowitz. Thank you again, so much. JANE Ya, I'm glad you stopped by, Mrs. Berkowitz. ALEX Please do speed those magazines to me, Mrs. Berkowitz. I wait anxiously for them. MRS. BERKOWITZ

Don't worry, Mr. James, I will. Rest assured. (She goes out.) ALEX (waving) God bless . . JANE So you'll call up Monday morning and cancel all those subscriptions. ALEX No! I couldn't disappoint that lovely woman; really I couldn't, (pause)

98

THE END OF THE WORLD It's such a beautiful thing to see a chubby, middle-aged matron having such a passionate involvement with Sports Illustrated. She wouldn't know a Spaulding baseball from a Pillsbury biscuit, but she loves that magazine. (pause) You know, she really does remind me of my mother. JANE You're crazy, you know, funny man; you really do like people after all. ALEX Whoever said I didn't? JANE

You sure make hash of 'em in your book. ALEX Irrelevant. JANE What, no connection between art and life? ALEX (W. C. Fields imitation) Oh my goodness, art and life. That ain't a fit subject for man nor beast, (walks slowly over to the broken lamp, kicks at the pieces on the floor) JANE No, I wouldn't bother to fix it, if I were you. If a tiling's broken more than once, there's no sense in trying to patch it up again. ALEX

(simple) Please don't, Jane. I'm tired of sparring. You wouldn't have come here if there wasn't something. You know things were good once. (picks up the shade from the broken lamp, puts it on like a hat, then walks to Jane as he talks) I haven't changed all that much. Things aren't that different. What do you want? JANE I'm not sure I know why you want me back. ALEX All I can say is that right now . . this minute . . I want you very much. (pause) I know "I need you" is a corny line, but it's the only one I've really got. JANE Honesty at all costs. ALEX Yes. JANE

Even if? 99

KEITH NEILSON ALEX

Yes, "even if." (pause) Besides, I couldn't fool you if I wanted to. You know that better than I do. JANE

Yes. You're no unmixed blessing, you know . . ALEX You couldn't live with an "unmixed blessing"; you know damn well you couldn't. (Pause. Suddenly they embrace; as they part Alex moves to kiss her; she hesitates and moves away.) JANE The hero and the heroine kiss tenderly as the sun sinks slowly in the west. Slow fade to final credits. (She goes back to him, turns back.) And they live happily ever after? ALEX We all hope so. That's about all we can do. (Jane smiles at this. Pauses. Then she moves to the rear of the stage and carefully hangs up her coat before exiting. Alex replaces the lampshade, straightens up a bit. Then he comes to the "Abraham" picture and, as he looks at it, John enters and stands behind Alex. John is dressed in a conservatively styled three-button suit with all the buttons buttoned. Alex takes a couple of steps toward the bar and John announces himself.) JOHN (with a flourish) Ta-tum! ALEX (turns around and looks at John, grins broadly) My God, you're pretty. JOHN

Like it? ALEX When did you get that outfit? JOHN (spins around a couple of times like a fashion model showing a gown) Today. First thing this morning. Thought I'd dress up for the occasion. ALEX "Occasion"? JOHN

How's about a drink, pal? Sure am thirsty. ALEX Certainly, what would you like? JOHN Whatever you're having. I respect your taste. 100

THE END OF THE WORLD ALEX

Scotch neat? JOHN Scotch neat it is. ALEX (goes to the bar and pours the drink, talks -with his back to John) You said "occasion" . . what is it? (John doesn't reply, but walks up and stands immediately behind Alex in a slightly threatening manner. After a few moments, Alex, having finished making the drinks, turns around with them. He is startled to find John so close behind him. John takes the drink, tilts his head back, and drains it in one gulp. He hands the empty glass back to Alex.) JOHN

(sharply) Again! ALEX

(takes the glass, shrugs, and refills it, returns it to John, walks a few paces and turns) You must be thirsty. JOHN Have always had a good appetite. Besides, I wanted to be sure and get one drink in before they come, (lifts glass) I'll take this one at a more leisurely pace. ALEX Who are "they"? You're being mysterious as hell tonight. JOHN Oh Lexy, I'm sorry. I didn't realize. It isn't fair of me to be so secretive. "They" are friends . . no, acquaintances, colleagues really . . I've invited them over. That's all. ALEX Do "they" have something to do with the "occasion"? JOHN Oh yes, definitely. They are integral. Very integral. ALEX You still haven't told me what the "occasion" is. JOHN You know, I never noticed before, how much difference it makes if you have a Brooks Brothers box under your arm. The salespeople even let you look. They don't hang over you like kids drooling over cotton candy. They respect it. Only a box. They don't know what . . if anything . . is in it, but they respect it. How about that? A name on a box slung under an armpit is more important than the person holding it. 101

KEITH NEILSON ALEX Goddammit, John, what are you talking about? JOHN And immediately after I left Brooks Brothers, I met Grandmother. You know Grandmother, of course? ALEX No, I . . JOHN

Oh, come now, Alex my friend. Grandmother is that beautiful woman who keeps her heart, soul, and pocketbook together by surveying and appropriating the careless leftovers of our "refuse." ALEX Oh, you mean . . JOHN (cutting him off) Yes! A wonderful woman, all six feet of her. Today, alas, her endeavors at picking the neighborhood garbage had been, I fear, not very successful, since her huge mesh shopping bag was almost empty. But she smiled through it all, toothlessly perhaps, but smiling all the same. And I, of course, to her likewise. I having come from my shopping tour, and she from her refuse collecting spree, were ready for this encounter. I gazed upon her six feet. Her sagging green sweater. Her gray lump of a dress slung like an army surplus poncho over her. Her layers of assortedsized stockings surrounding her strong, warty, misshapen legs. Her smell, too, from her skin soaked by garbage and urine and . . time. And she looked at me. At my beard. At my Brooks Brothers box. And we smiled at each other. She neither asked for nor expected a handout: she completely understood. Nothing could pass between us because we were two of a kind, on similar missions. I tipped my hat to her as befitting a gentleman to a lady, and passed on to the next station . . ALEX Of your cross? JOHN

(extends glass) Does it rate another drink? ALEX

(makes John another drink, hands it to him) What's the point? (pause, serious) Has it got anything to do with Kate? JOHN

I guess you could say so. ALEX

Has it got something to do with the baby? 102

THE END OF THE WORLD JOHN

What baby? ALEX Your baby. JOHN I don't have a baby. ALEX All right. Your wife's baby. Kate's baby. Your wife is pregnant, isn't she? JOHN

Oh that baby. Oh yes. I remember now. No, it's not that baby . . not directly, at least. ALEX Quit being clever. Tell me. JOHN Besides, my wife is not pregnant. ALEX What? JOHN

She had a miscarriage. ALEX (pause) Oh my God. Is she all right? JOHN She's fine. No pain at all. She's just perfect. ALEX When will she be up and around? JOHN (jumps up suddenly, starts to walk around the room as he talks) Let me tell you about my day. Not a very unusual day, really . . except that every day is unusual if you look at it closely. How's that for affirmation? Life is exciting if you look at it; breathe it in; smother it hi your embrace; suck it into your guts. ALEX That's great, but . . JOHN

(cutting him off) Great! That's right . . I'm only trying to say, Lexy, that I've had a very stimulating day. After I left Grandmother, I decided to go to a movie . . an early morning movie. For two reasons. First, I tired very quickly of carrying that box around under my arm and I wanted to wear my new uniform. So I went to this movie theatre, went immediately to the men's room, put on my new suit, put the suitbox into the garbage 103

KEITH NEILSON

can, along with my old clothes, my paint-caked blue jeans, my smelly, rotting shirt . . socks, too . . even, yes, even my pee-colored, gissomstained underwear. All of it into the waste can. There to fester quietly. I re-entered the theatre lobby and went directly to my seat. I had not chosen this theatre for any particular reason other than its men's room and the fact that I wanted to see a film, but it turned out that I had made an excellent choice. The picture, it developed, was exactly what I wanted to see. A film with relevance, real, total relevance. It suited my mood perfectly. A sweet and delicate movie. ALEX "Sweet and delicate" . . that's for you, is it? JOHN Please, let us be serious. (He moves a few steps and turns around, "acts out" all the parts with appropriate vocal imitations and gestures.) It was about this poor working girl in London. She sold shoes or heroin or something like that. Had a very difficult time. She also had a rather shrewish mother, to put it mildly. Wanted to be independent, the girl, that is. Well she . . as you might guess . . alone, cast on her own resources in that big, sinful city, had gotten herself in a jam. She got herself, as we used to say in more refined times, in a family way. ALEX I've seen the picture, all of them. JOHN (sharply) No, not this one! You have never seen this one. (pause) The girl . . I don't remember her name . . had such courage, such stamina. They all told her "get rid of it," "have it taken care of," "have a simple operation," "dig it out with a bent coathanger." But no. She stood up to them, to all of them. She looked straight at them and said, without flinching, "Did it ever occur to you . . to any of you . . that I might want my baby? That I might want to have my baby!" (pause) And that stopped them cold. ALEX (claps) I've seen the scene before, but never done so well. JOHN Thank you. (pause) But that final scene. There she really proved her mettle. Nine months gone in the cold-water walkup. With Mummy the only thing between her and utter desolation. Rum-soaked, soggy, semiconscious Mummy. And she looks at Mummy, grits her teeth: "Mother, I've got to tell you about the baby." "You don't mean that he might be black?" "Not the way you think. He's not a Negro or anything like that." "Thank God." 104

THE END OF THE WORLD (pause) "Mother, the father, George . . he's not around any more . . I don't really know how it happened. We'd had such a good time together that night." (pause) "Mother, I've got to tell you, my baby may not be a childl George was . . George was a Labrador retriever." (pause) "But he's earned his champion points. They're shipping him to Scotland for stud." (Alex laughs, John is stiff and strange as he goes on.} The movie went on. She talked on. "I want to have my baby, my funny little baby," she said. "I can feel him now." (puts his hand on his stomach) "His black furry body wriggling hi my womb. His nose nuzzling the sides of my pelvis. His tail wrapping itself around the walls of my uterus . . " Why not a dog! Why shouldn't she drop her pup in its appropriate shape! (pause) ALEX All that energy for a shaggy dog story. You sure can screw up a good flick. (pause) So what else is new? JOHN (goes to the bookcases) We must do something to while away the tune between appointments. After the movie I went home to my apartment and did a few things. Then I came here. They'll be here any minute. ALEX There you go again. JOHN (takes a book and turns the spine of it toward Alex) Ahhhh . . here we are. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. Virginia Woolf, pf awwww. Here is a woman to be really afraid of. (thumbs the book) You don't mind, do you, Alex? (He begins to read aloud from the text.) "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." (stops, shakes his head) That won't do. I can't take it from the beginning. I'll try the middle. (He flips some pages, begins again.) "While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding whether she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr. Darcy, by the feelings which prevailed on his entering the room . . No sooner did he appear than Elizabeth wisely resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed." (suddenly rips the book in half and throws it to the floor) Unembarrassed! For God's sake, Alex, she was UNEMBARRASSED! (calms) I'm sorry, Alex, (looks up) My friends have arrived. (Two police detectives enter. The first detective, who is in charge, is older, more experienced, and does his job in an efficient, matter-of-fact, thoroughly bored manner. The second detective is younger and relatively inexperienced. He is a bit more responsive, but is also interested in finishing the job as quickly and easily as possible.) 105

KEITH NEILSON FIRST DETECTIVE

All right, who's John Burke? JOHN

(raises his hand like a child in a classroom) Here, teacher. FIRST DETECTIVE

You left the note? JOHN

Of course. ALEX What is this? Who are . . FIRST DETECTIVE

(flashing identification) Police officers. Homicide Division. ALEX Homicide? JOHN

(raises his hand) I cannot tell a lie. I did it with my little . . FIRST DETECTIVE

(cuts him off) Shut up, you! I have to remind you that you don't have to say anything without advice of counsel. JOHN Did it with my little . . (As he reaches inside his coat, the first detective grabs him.) FIRST DETECTIVE

All right, you! Put those hands to the wall. (John leans against the rear stage wall in the "search" position.) Open his jacket. (The second detective unbuttons John's jacket, throws it open. The first detective reaches inside and takes out a bloody switchblade knife.) Here it is! (John carefully turns around. His white shirt is smeared with blood.) JOHN

(looks down at self) Jee-sus, what a mess, (like a child explaining something) Fortunately, I didn't mess up my new pants. I used one of her aprons. But she only had the kind that protects the bottom half of you. You know, they tie around the waist. No way to cover the upper part of me, though. FIRST DETECTIVE

All right, you. (forces John to the exit) JOHN My drink. Let me . . FIRST DETECTIVE

Get along. (He roughly pushes John out.) 106

THE END OF THE WORLD SECOND DETECTIVE

(to A lex) You live here? ALEX

Yes. SECOND DETECTIVE

Name? ALEX

James. Alexander James. SECOND DETECTIVE

You know him? ALEX

We're friends . . SECOND DETECTIVE

All right then, Mr. James. You stay here. We'll want you. ALEX What is this all about? SECOND DETECTIVE

I won't say he did it, cause he ain't been tried yet, but he . . or somebody . . killed his wife, (pause) God, was it a mess up there. All over everything. Floors, walls, ceiling, furniture. Jee-sus, does his landlord have a redecorating job. I don't envy him one bit, not one bit. Oh well, that's life. Don't ya leave the neighborhood. (Offstage shouts are heard.) I'm comin'. (to Alex) You never know. People sure do crazy things, (exits) ALEX Ya, people sure do . . crazy things. (Picks up the book and replaces •with the other books, then goes to John's drink and begins to sip it. After a few moments, Jane enters -with a bag of groceries.) JANE Hi. What's the commotion? What's all the noise about? ALEX

Noise? I don't know. JANE (sets down the bag and straightens the room as she talks) I thought I saw . . I can't believe it . . John Burke being shoved into a police car. I couldn't get close enough to see for sure. There were too many people. ALEX I'm sure you're mistaken. What would John be doing around here? JANE I don't know. (She exits; Alex finishes drinking John's drink, sets it down.) 107

KEITH NEILSON ALEX We'll all find out about it tomorrow. (Lights dim as a police siren is heard in the distance.) And tomorrow is another day. (lights out) END OF ACT ONE

ACT TWO The sound of cathedral bells. They fade out. Lights up on Alex in the same position he occupied at the end of Act One. The lights come up further to reveal the Reverend George Homewood shaking hands with Mrs. James. Homewood is dressed in clerical garb and is a fairly good-looking man of about Alex's age with a small black mustache which he strokes every once in a while. He is "likable" and "sincere" in the best sense of those words. Mrs. James, Alex's mother, is played by the same person who played the clubwoman and Mrs. Berkowitz in earlier scenes. It is important that this character not be portrayed satirically — she is to be neither pitied nor mocked, only accepted for what she is. Alex has never "rebelled" against her. There is simply an enormous gap between them which they both realize—she dimly, he clearly —and regret. They still try, however, to make contact. MRS. JAMES I'm so glad I was able to get Alexander to come to your service today, Reverend Homewood. HOMEWOOD Well, we've certainly enjoyed having him, Mrs. James, (concludes a handshake which is comically too long) MRS. JAMES

(to Homewood) And how is Marian? The children? HOMEWOOD

Marian's much better. She'll be out of the hospital next week, (to Alex) Marian is my wife. ALEX So I gathered. HOMEWOOD

(to Mrs. James) The kids are staying with Grandmother. They're fine. Jimmy got straight "A's" on his first report card. MRS. JAMES That's wonderful, (to Alex) Reverend Homewood has a wonderful wife and three of the most attractive children. 108

THE END OF THE WORLD ALEX

That's very nice. (Homewood turns to the next person in line. Alex and Mrs. James walk to the center of the stage.) MRS. JAMES

I do hope you didn't mind going to church with me, Alexander. ALEX Oh, no, Mother, I didn't mind at all. MRS. JAMES You surprised me coming home so suddenly. ALEX I'm sorry. Just an impulse. MRS. JAMES

I do hope you weren't bored. ALEX I was doing this reading at the college and thought . . MRS. JAMES

I thought Reverend Homewood preached a very intelligent sermon. ALEX . . since I was going to be in town, (shrugs) And I felt like coming home. MRS. JAMES Don't you think so? ALEX What? MRS. JAMES Wasn't Reverend Homewood's sermon an interesting one? ALEX Oh yes. Certainly. MRS. JAMES

I do hope you don't mind my inviting him over. ALEX

Oh no, it might be fun. MRS. JAMES

Fun? ALEX

I'm looking forward to it. MRS. JAMES

(pause) This trip home wasn't . . I mean you're not trying to . . ALEX No, really, Mother, Jane and I are fine now. 109

KEITH NEILSON MRS. JAMES

A mother is concerned about such things. A mother feels for her children. ALEX Please don't give me this "a mother" business. Who's ever heard of an Anglo-Saxon Jewish mother? MRS. JAMES I'm sorry, Alexander. I didn't mean to sound unpleasant, to touch any sensitive topics. ALEX I'm sorry, Mother. But Jane and I are getting along very well. Very, very well. MRS. JAMES

I'm glad to hear that. Jane is a wonderful girl. I like her very much. Probably better than you deserve. ALEX

You're right. MRS. JAMES (pause) Is anything else wrong? ALEX No. No, really. Everything's fine. I've even got a new novel almost done. MRS. JAMES

That's interesting. What is it about? ALEX About six hundred and fifty pages. MRS. JAMES

Oh, Alexander. ALEX

I'm sorry, Mother. (Pause. Matter-of-fact, bored, and lecturish.) My new novel is called Interiors. That's all there is. Of myself, I guess. A collection of passing references to whatever there is out there. Things I've seen, things I've felt. I try to put them down and they add up to something. That's all there is for a writer to do. The glimmers, glimpses of your life as you happen to touch them. Write them down as you know they are getting faster and falser. Nothing more to be done. MRS. JAMES That sounds interesting. I look forward to reading it when you finish. ALEX Yes. Of course, (pause) What's new with you? MRS. JAMES

Not very much, (pause) Oh, yes. Do you remember Marvin Kaufman? 110

THE END OF THE WORLD ALEX

You know, the first thing I did when I got to town was to take a walk . . (Note: This sequence can be presented in one of two ways. Either the speakers can alternate as presented in the text, or the speeches can be delivered simultaneously as monologues with Alex's voice over Mrs. James's. Her comments, however, should be generally audible to the audience.) MRS. JAMES

Marvin Kaufman. They were right below us when we lived in Cleveland. You were only a baby then, but they were our best friends. She . . his wife Mary . . used to sit with you when your father and I went out. I got a letter from her: he died. ALEX . . around the town. Walked down to the high school. Even that clean brick addition pasted on one side, it hasn't changed much. And walked by "Irma's Place." You remember, the old hangout. Kids sitting and smoking, listening to the jukebox, nursing one coke for hours. Never could understand how that woman made enough money to keep the place going. MRS. JAMES I'll never forget how we got to know them. It was because of you. You were an energetic baby. Always active, curious. You had this way of standing up in your crib and jumping so that the crib moved in any direction you pointed. You were so funny chugging around the room like a little Model T Ford. You'd go from one side of the room to the other and back again. (chuckles} ALEX All of a sudden I got very hungry, wanted to eat something. A cup of coffee and a sweet roll. Know where I went for it? MRS. JAMES

Of course we didn't realize how much racket that was making for the people downstairs. The Kaufmans. So one day they came up hopping mad. To complain. But before they left that evening we were the best of friends. And we stayed that way the rest of our lives. Of course we had to nail the crib to the floor. ALEX Yes. To that bright, new, orange and plastic Howard Johnson's. Across the street where a vacant lot used to be. And I hate Howard Johnson's. But I couldn't go into any place that was here before. I just couldn't. I was almost frightened to . . it all seemed so "funny." MRS. JAMES As a matter of fact, it was really your father who got Marvin Kaufman his

111

KEITH NEILSON

first good job. Marvin just couldn't sell himself so Dad helped him out. Showed him how to make an impression. Your father certainly could do that. ALEX Familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time. (At this point Homewood enters and is greeted by Mrs. James. He hands her his hat and coat; he wears the conventional clerical suit, collar, etc.) Like a movie slightly out of focus. You feel it's wrong, but aren't sure until the projectionist brings it in sharp. Only there's no projectionist to snap it into focus. HOMEWOOD

(as he sits) "Reading"? You mean you just read your book out loud and people sit and listen? Why don't they read the book themselves? ALEX I guess they want to see the animal in the flesh. HOMEWOOD

And they pay you for that? ALEX

Rather well in fact. HOMEWOOD

How interesting. I suppose that is the final sign of success in your profession. MRS. JAMES

You should realize, Alexander, that the Reverend Homewood has also gone a very long way for such a young man. HOMEWOOD

Please, Mrs. James, (to Alex) Compared to your success, Alexander . . you don't mind if I call you Alexander, do you? ALEX Alex. It would be better if you called me Alex. Only mothers use the full names of four-syllable children. HOMEWOOD

(a bit off balance) Oh . . Yes . . Alex. To a famous writer like yourself, my "success" isn't very much. I wish your mother hadn't said what she did. But I am proud. In my own way I am a successful man. I am the youngest pastor our congregation has ever had and the first ever from its own neighborhood. I think that is something. ALEX Yes, it is. It really is. HOMEWOOD

And I've done a lot of new things in the church. Initiated new programs. 112

THE END OF THE WORLD Especially those for young people. The young are our greatest responsibility and we've neglected them. I'm trying to rectify . . (trails off, apologetic) I'm boring you. ALEX No, really, you're not. I meet a lot of "young people." HOMEWOOD

Is that so? Someday I'd like to have a serious talk with you about dealing with young people. ALEX (quickly) Right now. HOMEWOOD

What? ALEX

Why not have our serious talk right now? I mean, if you're not busy. I have nothing else to do. Let's be serious. HOMEWOOD

Yes . . all right. ALEX (to Mrs. James) Go make us some coffee and cookies. Will you, love? (Mrs. James smiles and goes out. He speaks to Homewood.) Now, then, what's on your mind? HOMEWOOD

You surprised me, Mr. James . . or Alexander . . er, Alex. You've caught me by surprise. ALEX

We artists are impulsive you know. HOMEWOOD

I only thought you might have some ideas I might be able to use on the youth programs that I was telling you about. We have a discussion group for young adults, for instance; we try to read contemporary works. (At times Homewood may "sermonize" to the audience.) For instance, we read The Catcher in the Rye. There was a good deal of agitation in the congregation about that too, I might add. But I held my ground. ALEX Good for you. HOMEWOOD

. . And I think the group appreciated it. (pause) You might suggest others. ALEX How about the collected writings of the Marquis de Sade?

113

KEITH NEILSON HOMEWOOD

No, I don't think that would work out. ALEX You've read him? HOMEWOOD

I try to keep up. De Sade's view of man is no doubt extreme, but there is probably a bit of de Sade in all of us. ALEX You surprise me. HOMEWOOD

Thank you, Alex. I think that is a compliment. But I don't think de Sade's view of man is that relevant to our young people. ALEX You hope not. HOMEWOOD

I think not . . and I hope not. (pause) Your mention of de Sade makes me want to ask you another question. ALEX

Ask on, MacDuff. HOMEWOOD

Please don't take this personally; it is a general question, (pause) One thing I can't understand about you modern writers. You don't mind my being frank. ALEX By all means, be frank. HOMEWOOD I have never been able to understand why you contemporary authors must always be so . . well, negative. Why must you always emphasize the dark side of things? I mean, certainly the dark is there. ALEX

Yes. Indeed it is. HOMEWOOD But that isn't all of it. There are so many bright spots. Why can't you people write about them? Can't you people understand that life has it joys as well as it sorrows? That the joys are worth talking about? ALEX Like a wonderful wife and three most attractive kiddies? HOMEWOOD

What? 114

THE END OF THE WORLD ALEX

Joys. Those are some of the joys? HOMEWOOD

Well . . yes, of course. Why do you put it like that? ALEX Oh, look. I don't know what you mean by "positive" and "negative." HOMEWOOD

Please don't be offended, Alex. It's just that I've always been so interested in the artist. I guess I'm just a frustrated artist. I used to write verse. ALEX Oh? HOMEWOOD

It wasn't any good. ALEX I'm sure it wasn't. HOMEWOOD

But I enjoyed doing it. And I am terribly interested hi the arts. ALEX That's funny. I used to be interested in theology. HOMEWOOD I'm not surprised at that. I have always thought of the creative impulse as essentially a religious one. ALEX But I gave it up after a while. HOMEWOOD

Why did you do that? ALEX

I finally thought up a definition of theology. Would you like to hear it? HOMEWOOD By all means. ALEX (Boris Karloff or Peter Lone voice) I think that theology is . . philosophical necrophilia. (Homewood chuckles, Alex points.) You, sir, are an intellectual ghoul. HOMEWOOD

Well, whatever your beliefs may be, I think we are closer in our functions than it would appear on the surface. Don't you think that's so, Alex? ALEX (a bit agitated) I haven't given it much thought. 115

KEITH NEILSON HOMEWOOD

You haven't. That surprises me; it really does. Are our ultimate goals not similar? After all, particular ideas aside, don't we do much the same sort of thing? Both encounter . . take . . the "raw experience" of life, as it were, and bring out, communicate, the moral order. "Moral order out of chaos" — there's art and religion in a nutshell. The same nutshell, I might add. Isn't that why you write? ALEX I don't know why I write, (pause, looks closely at Homewood) You have an attractive mustache. HOMEWOOD

What? ALEX

Your mustache. It's very attractive. It's very unusual to see a mustache on a suburban Presbyterian minister. Bearded slum priests, yes; mustached Presbyterian parsons, no. HOMEWOOD Well, perhaps it is my little personal indulgence. An eccentricity. ALEX Don't apologize. Really, it's very attractive. It suits you. HOMEWOOD

You think so? (pats it with pride) I suppose even a minister of the gospel is allowed a modest vanity or two. TOGETHER

"Vanity, vanity, saith the Lord. All is vanity." (They laugh.) HOMEWOOD

(jocular) Listen. (He pats Alex on the knee; Alex looks quickly, but suspiciously, at the pat.) I hope you haven't been offended by the personal nature of my inquiry. I mean, I am interested in the creative person. I wonder at the sources of his power. ALEX I thought all things came from the Lord. HOMEWOOD (persisting) I would think that some kind of belief, some kind of feeling that there was an order, a purpose, would be needed to sustain that creative urge. Have you never thought of this, Mr. James? What about "love"? What about "faith"? ALEX

The opposite of love is not hate; the opposite of faith is not disbelief. 116

THE END OF THE WORLD HOMEWOOD

Well, then, what is? ALEX

Dull regrets and nostalgia. HOMEWOOD You modern writers try so hard to be cynical. ALEX (sharp) NO! (pause) I am not cynical. I don't know what to call it, but cynicism it is not. HOMEWOOD

(a bit smug) I'm afraid I must still call it cynicism. Because if you fellows really believed what you say, you wouldn't write anything. No reason at all, if what you say is really true. You'd just sit home and quietly twiddle your thumbs. And if there is one thing I can say about you, Alex, it is this: you are not a twiddler. You are definitely NO TWIDDLER! (He laughs loudly; A lex does not laugh at all.) ALEX (sharp, very serious, and a bit mysterious) Have you ever noticed how many times "great men" . . public figures . . have turned out to be quite different, quite other than they appeared to the general populace? HOMEWOOD

What? (From this point on there is a general intensification of the atmosphere provoked by Alex. He is quite tense as he talks, but covers this -with a sardonic attitude. Although uneasy himself, he also gives the impression of a hunter who has sighted his prey and enjoys taking his time in setting up the kill. Homewood tries to maintain his "role," but he becomes increasingly nervous and apprehensive. He doesn't know what Alex is doing, but feels progressively trapped by it.) ALEX

Take John Stewart Parnell, for example, and John Christie, Oscar Wilde. HOMEWOOD

What has that got to do with . . ALEX (cuts him off) Take Parnell. A respectable gentleman and statesman in Catholic Ireland. Taken in adultery, (pause) A-dul-ter-y. How flowing. A-dul-ter-y. How often the generic term for a thing is much more poetic than its slang equivalent. As a writer I am very interested in this phenomenon. As a "preacher" you should be also. HOMEWOOD

Well . . I . . 117

KEITH NEILSON ALEX

The trouble with four-letter words is not that they are obscene or gross, but that they lack all style, all rhythm. What can you do with "screw," or "lay," but "a-dul-ter-y," "for-ni-ca-tion," "cop-u-la-tion" . . what marvelous, rolling sounds. HOMEWOOD

I don't see the point. ALEX

You're not embarrassed? Offended? Are you? I'm only trying to discuss some serious intellectual matters with you . . the nature of language and the fact that prominent people are not always what they seem. Surely that can't offend you? HOMEWOOD It's not that. ALEX (quickly) Good! To continue: Parnell was found out to be a fornicator. Oscar Wilde, on the other hand, practiced not dissimilar things on young boys. He was homosexual. HOMEWOOD I think its about time I . . (He moves to get up, but he is held down by Alex's intensity.) ALEX Ho-mo-sex-u-al. Now that is a word. Ho-mo-sex-u-al. The most rhythmical, most lyrical of them all. (backs up a bit, very matter-of-factly) Oscar Wilde, in spite of his literary prominence, was declared homosexual and sent to prison. That was an injustice; to make a crime out of a matter of personal taste is an unjust thing. Don't you agree, Reverend? HOMEWOOD

Well . . yes. ALEX

I thought you would. A person should be allowed his own private life. Don't you think? It should be his personal affair, (pause) Of course there will always be some observers who can see into the personal. Some things cannot be concealed from some people. Observation makes it possible for one such as myself to be an artist. The ability to see. HOMEWOOD This is pointless. ALEX No! You're missing the point and this is important to you. You specifically 118

THE END OF THE WORLD asked me about artistic creativity. Well, the artist's job is "to make you hear, to make you feel . . it is, before all, to make you SEE." (pause) He can do this because he can see. See things, little details, affectations, innocuous gestures, subconscious slips . . that tell everything! (pause) Make no mistake, George, close observation, that's what it's all about. (pause) A wife and three children, is that right? (moves to the arm of the chair) HOMEWOOD Yes . . why? ALEX That's about correct for a suburban minister, isn't it? HOMEWOOD

Correct? ALEX

(putting his arm around Homewood's shoulder) Come on, Georgie, I'm not confusing you? I'm not putting you on? I like you. You're my kinda fella. HOMEWOOD

(starts to panic, bolts upright; Alex moves in front of him and backs him down) Please, I've got to . . to go . . ALEX Come now, George, you like me too, don't you? I mean we could be "friends." I'd like you for a friend. (Alex is behind Homewood with one arm around Homewood's neck. He speaks into Homewood's ear.) I wouldn't interfere with your wonderful child and your three lovely wives. Those who can enjoy a variety of pleasures have always won my admiration. What do you say, Georgie? It would be our little secret! (Pause. Homewood is mortified.) I'll bet, George, that in your spare time you're a volunteer Boy Scout leader. That would fit into your over-all pattern of community service. I'll bet you just love those camping trips. That solid, pioneer spirit, tent life, mixing it up with the fellas. (Pause. Alex hears his mother coming and releases Homewood, meets Mrs. James as she enters with a tray full of cups, cookies, etc.) Here, Mother, let me take that. (Alex takes a small dish from the tray. Then he goes to Homewood and offers him a cookie. Homewood shakes his head, sneaks out of his chair, and goes for his coat and hat. Mrs. James, with her back to the men as she prepares the snack at the long table, doesn't notice what is going on.) HOMEWOOD

I think . . I'd better . . go . . 119

KEITH NEILSON ALEX So soon, George? (Homewood, coat in hand, goes toward an exit, pauses for a retort to A lex but cannot manage one.) MRS. JAMES How about a cup of coffee, Reverend Homewood? And some cookies? Freshly baked. (Alex mouths the words "freshly baked" as Homewood exits. Mrs. James turns around and is surprised to find Homewood gone.) That was rather sudden, wasn't it? ALEX We finished our talk. MRS. JAMES

Was it a good one? ALEX He's an intelligent fellow. I respect his opinions. MRS. JAMES

We like him too. Very much. He's done wonderful things for our church. ALEX Probably a perfect choice. MRS. JAMES

I'm very glad you two got on so well together. (Mrs. James goes out. Alex slowly moves toward the staircase. He takes his "father's hat" off the coatrack and tries it on. Then he begins slowly to climb the staircase. As he climbs, the lights go down on the stage and up on the platform. When he reaches the top he hauls out the trunk and opens it. An assorted group of strange forms come onto the dimly lighted stage.) ALEX

(as he climbs) Where is it? I know it's here somewhere. Father's trunk. It must be here. In this trunk, (opens the trunk and begins to fish around in it; pulls out a Halloween mask of Edgar A llan Poe and puts it on) VOICES FROM BELOW

(trading lines) That won't do . . No that's wrong . . That won't do at all . . No, certainly not . . Pretty bad . . Etc. (Alex pulls off the Poe mask and throws it back into the trunk. He fishes around and gets a mask of "Superman" or some other comic strip hero.) No. No not for you . . That's make-believe . . It wouldn't work for you . . Who's he trying to kid . . Etc. (Alex tosses the second outfit back into the trunk, puts on a pirate mask and hat.) A little better . . But it would never work out . . In the long run . . Be original . . That guy'll try anything . . (Alex throws the mask into the trunk and searches some more. He finds and puts 120

THE END OF THE WORLD on a mask of the ordinary man.) Awful! . . Horrible! . . A mess! . That's the worst of the lot! . . ALL Get it off! (Alex rips it off and tosses it into the trunk. Suddenly Mrs. James appears behind him holding a mask in her hands.) ALEX (turns) Mother! MRS. JAMES

Here, Alexander. (She hands him the mask.) This is for you. This is what you are looking for. (Alex puts the mask on. Mrs. James leaves. He stands and faces the audience. The mask is totally featureless, a complete blank.) VOICES

That's it . . That's beautiful . . It's just perfect . . Congratulations, old man . . Lovely, just lovely . . Well, it's about tune . . (Alex grabs at the edge of the mask and tries to rip it off, but he seems unable to do so.) What is he trying to do? . . Pull the skin off his face? . . Doesn't he know a good thing? . . How perverse . . (Finally Alex succeeds in ripping the mask off and hurls it into the trunk. He slams the trunk shut and collapses on top of it. Gradually he pushes the trunk off the platform. The figures on stage catch it and set it in the center of the stage.) ALEX The trunk. I've lost it. It must be down here. I'll find it again. (Alex gropes down the staircase and heads for the trunk. The figures all exit and the lights come up on stage. Alex opens the trunk again.) In here. There has got to be something . . in here. (He opens the trunk again and bends over to look in it. While he is in this bent-over posture, a circus clown appears suddenly on the stage — full costume, Halloween mask on face, etc. — carrying a clown's slapstick. He smacks Alex on the rear and Alex goes into the trunk. The trunk is quickly closed and "locked" . . with a huge cardboard padlock. Then the clown turns to the audience and pulls off the mask. It is John Burke. Carnival music begins to play in the background. Lights up on stage area. Carnival decorations such as large posters, projections. ) JOHN

(pitchman's spiel) Step up folks. You've never seen anything like it. Captain John's seagoing showboat, combination musicale, variety review, and freak show! On Captain John's old seaworthy, floating, paddle-wheel battlewagon, the good ship Armageddon. So step up. Don't crowd but step up! (pause; points to trunk) And our most famous attractions (hits trunk with the paddle), our most sensational freak. (Hits trunk again; 121

KEITH NEILSON suddenly a trapdoor opens in the top of the trunk and Alex's head emerges.) ALEX A freak show? You mean this is a freak show? I wanted to see something cultural, artistic . . not a freak show! JOHN (stops, hands on hips, glares at Alex) What are you? Some kind of goddamned intellectual? Some kind of stuck-up son of a bitch? This is Armageddon . . Armageddon, God damn you. (Pause. John looks toward the wings and calls offstage.) Hey, gang! This guy doesn't want to see a freak show. Hey FREAKS! FREAKS! (pause) Introduce yourselves. BETTY LOU JOHNSON

(emerges through some kind of curtain dressed in a harem-bride seduction outfit) I am the siren. My name is Mata Hari. I am erotic and sensual. I give off strange odors that attract men to me. And I smother them in my sensual voluptuousness; I envelop them in the folds of my palpitating flesh. (She begins a dull sort of bump and grind.) GIRL STUDENT

(emerges dressed in a skin-colored, skin-tight suit; it is, however, lumpy and covered with "sores," which she scratches as she talks) My name is Iphigenia. I am a most interesting specimen. I am ravaged by a strange disease. I have ugly lumps all over my body. Some of them are under the skin. People are fascinated by my lumps and sores. ANN

(enters dressed like a female lion tamer with a whip in one hand) My name is Clarissa Harlowe. I tame animals. I make them do tricks. And if they don't I tear their fur and skin into bits and chunks with my whip. (cracks it) Bloody chunks! MRS. JAMES

(emerges wearing a kind of "mummy" costume) I am Mrs. Lazarus. I am a living corpse. A zombie. No blood flows in my veins. My skin is cold. My limbs are stiff. I move about without a heartbeat. HOMEWOOD

(lights up on the platform where Homewood, dressed as a carnival conartist and snake-oil salesman, holds a bottle in his hands, a long plastic tube extending from the neck of the bottle) Here it is! All purpose snakeoil. All-purpose, all-weather, guaranteed cure-all for what ails you. Gallstones, cancer, bad luck, festering anthrax, despair . . (The freaks close in on A lex. They either alternate rapidly or speak simultaneously.) 122

THE END OF THE WORLD BETTY LOU

We roll around on scented couches of desire. Why don't you (sing-songy) "Meet me round the corner/ In a half an hour." MRS. JAMES It is not easy to be a living dead person. It's a very cold life. You may feel my wrists and notice that there is no pulse. GIRL STUDENT

Would you like to see my lumps? Feel my scabs? Run your tongue over my salty sores? Taste my openings? ANN

It takes a certain talent to be a lion tamer. Not everybody can do it. It takes a certain natural skill . . and a certain kind of mentality. HOMEWOOD Constipation, vice, frigidity, athlete's feet, God, bed wetting. You name it, it cures it! (// they are speaking simultaneously, this stops -with the next speech by Betty Lou.) BETTY LOU

(points to Alex) But you! I recognize your type. You're the masturbating type! You think you're getting laid. You may even think you enjoy it. But you screw for the same reason you take a pee . . it's something you feel you have to do every once in a while. Just another farty old Puritan going to church. GIRL STUDENT

And it's all your fault. You exposed me to these things. You didn't tell me what would happen. ANN

You have to see animals and people, not as animals and people, but as a series of tricks. A number of clever gestures that you can get on cue. I wasn't always a trainer. I was on the other side once. I worked my way up. (Whips the trunk. A lex grimaces as though it were his body.) HOMEWOOD Have a sip. (Tosses the plastic tube in Alex's direction and other freaks guide it into his mouth. He takes a swig, holds it a jew moments in his mouth, make a sour face, and spits it out violently.) ALEX Aggggggg . . that's awful! What is it? HOMEWOOD You don't like my snake-oil? ALEX It's terrible. It's vile. It's poison. 123

KEITH NEILSON OTHERS

It tasted all right to me . . It tasted good to me . . It's fine . . I feel better already. HOMEWOOD

My elixer. You've spit out my elixer. GIRL STUDENT

It might cure my lumps. Dry up my sores. ALEX No. No. It can't. GIRL STUDENT

How the hell do you know? OTHERS

Yes . . How does he know? . . He'd pour it all out . . Nobody. No matter what anybody thinks . . Anybody needs . . It's a terrible thing . . Something ought to be done about it. ALEX But it isn't any good. OTHERS TOGETHER

Do you have anything better? ALEX No. No. But that doesn't matter. OTHERS Who is he? . . Just because it doesn't work for him . . He probably wants us to be unhappy . . He doesn't like us . . Because we're freaks . . He doesn't approve of freaks . . He hates freaks! . . DO YOU HATE FREAKS? ALEX

No, I . . JOHN

He doesn't believe in freaks. He's a heretic. OTHERS

A HERETIC! (They begin to chant "Heretic" as they march around. Then they go into their separate speeches which should all be delivered simultaneously. Freaks may repeat phrases to keep even with the others.) BETTY LOU

User of bodies. ANN

Player of games. GIRL STUDENT

Spreader of diseases. 124

THE END OF THE WORLD HOMEWOOD Spitter. MRS. JAMES

Rejecter. BETTY LOU

Desecrater of flesh. ANN

Trainer. Whipper. Beast. GIRL STUDENT

Of lumps and running sores. HOMEWOOD

Vomiter of elixer. ALL He hates freaks. But he's a freak himself. And doesn't know it. Won't admit it. Can't accept it. There's something wrong with him. Wrong . . wrong . . WRONG! ALEX No! I'm not a freak! ALL Find out what's wrong with him. Examine him. JOHN Call for the examiner! OTHERS The examiner! CALL FOR THE EXAMINER! (Lights down on the stage area. The examiner appears on the platform and the group breaks into muted cheers. She gestures and the cheers stop; the freaks exit. It is Jane dressed in a white coat, her hair fixed behind her head, perhaps a pair of hornrimmed glasses. She carries a clipboard and a pencil. Jane uncovers the manikin and begins her interview by talking to it. Meanwhile during the first lines of the dialogue, Alex slowly and painfully climbs out of the trunk. He shoves it offstage. Then he pushes the long table to stage center and gets to his knees behind it, back to audience, as he addresses Jane from a position of supplication.) JANE (officially) Now, Mr. James, when did these abnormalities first manifest themselves? ALEX

Abnormalities? I have no abnormalities. (She pulls out a rubber mallet and hits the manikin's kneecap with it.) 125

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JANE (jots a note) No reflexes. Subject exhibits an absence of reflexes. ALEX

What do you mean? JANE (hits the kneecap again) No response. ALEX Do it again. (She does.) Nothing's happened. Why? JANE What is your major occupation, Mr. James? ALEX

I write. JANE And what do you write? Instructional manuals? Scholarly investigations? Recipe books? ALEX Novels. Fictional works. JANE And do you find that useful? ALEX I don't know what you mean. JANE (jots, to self) Doesn't know if his books are useful, (looks up) And do you find them satisfying? ALEX

Satisfying? JANE (doesn't know if he is satisfied) And do they give you pleasure? ALEX

Pleasure? JANE

Doesn't know what the word pleasure means. Happiness? ALEX

Happiness? JANE

Doesn't know what the word happiness means either. Love? ALEX

Love? 126

THE END OF THE WORLD JANE

Or love. And what other symptoms would you like to tell us about, Mr. James? ALEX Symptoms? Now listen here; there is nothing wrong with me. I say what I think and what I feel. What I feel to be true. Yes, that's it. Truth. TRUTH! (pause) That's what's important to me. You do not seem the least bit interested in truth. JANE Mr. James, "truth" is an abstraction. We do not deal in such abstractions. And, to be perfectly frank, your difficulties are, I fear, in part at least due to your obsession with such abstractions. I suggest you think about other things, Mr. James. A child's first baby tooth. The junior prom. Systematic revision of the social security law. ALEX (anguished) If I have only my own experience, in my own time, to search through . . I must . . do you understand that? JANE (sharp) Mr. James, you must realize that this is no way, no way at all, to impress those of us in official capacities with the validity of your approach to the "larger" questions suggested by your rather "intense" . . although I am sure sincere . . presentation of your special difficulties. ALEX (stands up, raises his hand) Very well. I should not want to deviate from official procedure. May I make my presentation in the form of a story? JANE If you wish. ALEX

(slowly climbs the staircase toward Jane) This is the story. A parable. A fairy tale. (On the phrase "fairy tale" Jane transforms into a little girl. Alex sits next to her on the platform and their legs dangle off the edge. Alex puts his arm around her.) Perhaps it will make it all more clear. The name of the story is "The Tale of the Nearsighted Magician and the LongNosed Prince." JANE

(as a little girl) OOOOOOOOOO . . that sounds nice. ALEX

Once upon a time . . and a long, long time ago it was . . there was a King and a Queen and they wanted a Prince. But because they were old they found it difficult to have one, so they went to the great magician. 127

KEITH NEILSON JANE What'd he look like? ALEX

Who? JANE

The magician. Was he funny looking? (laughs) ALEX Oh no, he was very dignified. Very tall with a dark purple robe and a long white beard that hung to his kneecaps. And a very stern expression on his face. Like he was always sad or his feet ached. But that wasn't why he always looked so annoyed. Do you know why he always had such a sour face? JANE Nope. Why? ALEX Because he was nearsighted. He was always squinting because he couldn't see things and had to strain and strain. But he couldn't let anybody know about this because who ever heard of a nearsighted magician. JANE

Couldn't he wear glasses? ALEX

Against the rules, (pause, begins again) Well, the King and the Queen ordered a tall and handsome Prince from the magician. With a soft voice and blue eyes and blond hair . . and lots of muscles. The magician got out all his potions and instruments and started to make up his Prince. He picked out the right eyes and best hair and strong legs and mixed them together. But remember, the magician was nearsighted and didn't always see what he was doing. Do you know what? He dumped a whole bottle of nose into the pot. A whole bottle. JANE The Prince got a big nose. ALEX Not exactly. Remember, it was a bottle of magic nose and so it wasn't like the kind we have. (He touches her nose with his finger.) Well, the Prince grew up. His nose looked just like everyone else's. In fact, it was a very pretty nose. But every once in a while his nose ached. JANE How come it did this? ALEX One day the Prince found out. His nose ached because it wanted to grow 128

THE END OF THE WORLD and smell. One day he found he could make it grow as long as he wanted it. It could climb walls and go around corners and sneak under doors. In short, it could go anywhere and smell anything. Oh, how the Prince loved his nose: he made it grow and grow and he smelled and smelled . . (ominous) until one day . . JANE (eager) Yes? ALEX Until one day people saw him smelling with his long nose and laughed at it and pointed. The Prince felt so bad that he drew it back into its old size and shape. But oh how it ached. And oh how unhappy the young Prince was. JANE Didn't he ever smell again? ALEX He smelled whenever he could, until people saw him. He hated how his nose separated him from people. Sometimes he felt so lonely that he'd love anybody who'd even look at his nose. One day . . a beautiful Princess came to his castle. He fell in love with her and she fell in love with him. But she hated his nose. When he tried to kiss her it stuck in her eye or poked her ear. Once it knocked a golden earring into the grass that was lost forever. JANE So what did she do? ALEX She said she'd have a new nose made for him out of ivory and gold. It would let him smell as well as anybody else. JANE

(excited) What did he do? ALEX

(stands up) Oh, he was miserable. And he knew how easy it would be with a new, beautiful, properly sized nose. People would admire it, not laugh at it. JANE So he cut it off and lived happily ever after. ALEX No! Because he knew that he had to smell. He had to let his nose go where it wanted to . . that nothing else mattered, (descends the staircase as he talks) HIS NOSE WAS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING . . so he sent his Princess away to find a Prince with a normal nose. The old King and 129

KEITH NEILSON

Queen dropped dead. For the rest of his life the Prince went around smelling things and being laughed at all the time . . except for an hour and a half every day between three fifteen and four forty-five when he cried . . because he was lonely. (Alex returns to the table, sits on the edge oj it -with his back to the audience.) JANE Is that the end of the story? ALEX That's it. End of story. JANE (reverting to examiner) And what happened if your Prince smelled foul things? ALEX He smelled whatever there was to smell. He had to. That's the point of the story. JANE And what if all he ever smelled was sour and putrid? ALEX

I don't know. That's not part of the story. JANE It should be. (pause) Let me give you a word of advice, Mr. James. (Takes the rubber hammer and, while she talks, she strikes the manikin very hard in the appropriate places. As she does so, Alex winces and curls up, ending finally on the table in a fetal position.) If you ever feel the urge to have a similar outburst, hit yourself on the kneecap with this hammer. Remember if that won't respond (hits kneecap) then that won't respond (hits heart area), and neither will that (hits crotch). I'm afraid you use this (hits head) a bit too much. ALEX

You haven't understood a goddamn thing I've said. JANE I'm very sorry, Mr. James, that that is your attitude. What are you going to do, Mr. James, if your obsessions . . your very personal obsessions . . lead you to a dead end? To a blind end? To zero? What do you do then, Mr. James? Will you ever be able to believe in what you are doing? What you have done? (pause, looks around) There is no doubt about it. I can see the signs, but I do not know the causes. VOICES FROM DARKNESS

Operate? 130

THE END OF THE WORLD JANE

You must find the source of the malfunction. VOICES Operate? ALEX

NO! (The freaks come back onstage. They are now dressed in medical uniforms and line up on the staircase facing Alex, one to every other step. Alex is still balled up on the long table. John stands in front of the table with his back to the audience.) JANE To find the source of the aberration, you will have to go inside! (Jane exits.) JOHN (as chief surgeon) We'll cut it open and spread it out on the table. We'll sort through it carefully. We'll find out what's wrong. (He then spreads Alex out on the table with his arms extended —of course —in a "cross" position.) ALEX No. No. You can't do this . . to me . . (He leans up as far as he can and looks at the others.) Not you. I know you. Know every one of you. ALL (together or alternating') Of course you know us, Alex. We are the ones most concerned about you. We are the ones who must come to understand your strange deviations. JOHN We are the ones most interested in your welfare and fulfillment, Alex. You have meant a great deal to each of us. ALEX No. (Pause. He looks over at Betty Lou.) Betty Lou. We've had good times. You don't want this to happen to me. BETTY LOU

Awwww, cut it out, Jamesy boy. You got what you wanted from me. You got no kicks comin'. I was just yer piece, nothin' more . . Besides, tell ya th' truth, ya bore the shit outa me. ALEX

(to girl student) You . . you don't mean for this to happen. GIRL STUDENT

Don't think I don't appreciate, Mr. James, all those things you did for me. All your stimulation. Your guidance. I owe it all to you. I never expected you to like my poetry. It wasn't very good and . . as you said, . . art is

131

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the most ruthless business in the world. There was no reason for you to find anything in it but bad rhymes and trite ideas. Even though they were my trite ideas. But, more important than that, you gave me a taste of real literature . . real ideas . . real conclusions about . . things! ALEX Ann? ANN

Come now, Mr. James. Things are pretty even between us, don't you think? You got your little bit of power and rejuvenation. I got your autograph and a free copy of your last book. We didn't mean all that much to each other. You can't expect anything from me. HOMEWOOD (breaks in) I hope you didn't expect any help from me. Not that I hold what you did to me against you. I am not a vindictive man. I believe in Christian charity. Forgiveness, even. But I am not sympathetic to your cause. To be frank, Mr. James, it serves you right. It will be good for you. ALEX Thank you, Reverend Homewood, I hadn't counted on you. Thank you anyway . . Mother? MRS. JAMES I'm sorry, Alexander, I can't help you. I'd like to, only I'm dead. You said so yourself. We were sitting together in the living room. You said to me: "Mother, you're dead. I can see your skull beneath your skin." That is a very hard thing for a mother to hear from her son. ALEX John! Surely you, you aren't like them. You know the way . . it is. You can't do this to me. JOHN You misunderstand, Alex. We seek you no harm. It's only an exploratory operation. We only want to find out what's wrong . . if anything is wrong . . and we can't do that without cutting into the subject. ALEX No, John. Please, no. JOHN Of all people, you Alex. You know that it must be found! And cutting is the only way. You know that . . deep within yourself . . you want this thing! YOU NEED IT! (He reaches over and takes the switchblade knife from the instrument tray, the same knife, of course, that he used on Kate.) The knife . . is not a luxury . . it is a NECESSITY. (On "necessity" John snaps the blade open. Then, with both hands, he raises it high above his 132

THE END OF THE WORLD head. For an instant he holds the pose that "reproduces" "Abraham and Isaac and the Ram" Then he plunges the blade into Alex's chest. Alex screams and curls up once again into the fetal position. After cutting, John removes the knife and peers into the cavity. He smiles.) Well, I'll be damned. (He begins to chuckle.) OTHERS Let me see . . I want to see, too . . What is it? . . What's so funny? . . Etc. (One by one the others -walk up and peer into the -wound. As they do, they begin to laugh. The laughter grows in volume. They exit. The laughter gradually turns to the sounds of a party in progress, then fades. Jane enters, talking to Amos Stein. Alex is still curled up on the long table.) JANE

So glad you could come, Amos. We enjoyed seeing you. STEIN It was a good party. I never miss a good party. JANE Yes, it was. STEIN

Take care of sleeping beauty over there, will you? JANE Yes, sure, Amos. STEIN

(pause) I'm sure glad you two are together again . . and he's over that business about John . . God, that was an awful thing! JANE Yes. Thanks, Amos. That's all over, I guess. Goodnight. STEIN I'm very anxious to read that new novel. He's about got the first draft done, hasn't he? JANE I don't know, Amos. I don't ask about such things, (pause) STEIN Goodnight, kid. Tell him thanks for the party. (Stein exits. Jane sighs, looks around the room, then begins to straighten it up. As she passes Alex she touches him. He awakens with a start. Then he rubs his eyes, gets up, walks over to the "Abraham" picture and laughs.) ALEX

I've been thinking about that. 133

KEITH NEILSON JANE The picture? ALEX

No. The subject of the picture. Abraham and Isaac. JANE What about it? ALEX

Don't you see? Can you really take that ending? (laughs again) It's laughable. JANE Why? ALEX

That's no test. That's eleventh-hour rescue. The hero snatches the bound girl off the tracks before the twelve fourteen steams by. It's pure corn. Get right down to it and God is a fifth-rate melodramatist. A ham, pure and simple. JANE I don't know what you're talking about. ALEX God stopped it before it got to the test. What if there wasn't any voice, any lamb hi the bushes? What if Abraham had gone through with it? How much faith then, with little Isaac's blood coating his hand, Isaac's innards splashed all over his vest, the knife still warm and smelling of Isaac . . would he have kept his faith then? That's the only time it would really matter. Now that would have been a test. JANE So why are you so excited about it? I thought He was a dead issue. ALEX I love dead issues. I am an incorrigible antiquarian at heart, (walks around the stage looking carefully at everything). You've redecorated. JANE

What? ALEX

You've even repainted. JANE I haven't painted anything. ALEX (looks closely at a wall) Cadaver blue? (looks again) Yes, I think that's it, cadaver blue. Cool and appropriate. You never cease to amaze me, dear. Every day in every way you're getting better and better.

134

THE END OF THE WORLD JANE

What's this for? ALEX

(continuing') And the furniture, (pause) I'm not sure I approve of your furniture arrangement. JANE You don't like it? What's wrong? ALEX Too damned cluttered. Everything in the middle of the room. We should have free space at the center of things. An altar, perhaps, but nothing more. The room should be like a mosque. JANE

A mosque? What do you know about mosques? ALEX (hard) I know what a mosque should look like. (Pause. Resigned, Jane moves toward the long table.) JANE Shall we get started? Where do you want this? ALEX (points) Over against the wall. (Alex goes to the books at the rear of the stage.) JANE

I hope the decoration suits you better now. ALEX Except for the books. They are a clutter. But what's a writer without books, eh? (pause) Eh? {intense) I said, what is a writer without books? JANE

(puzzled and apprehensive) What, indeed? ALEX The wonderful world of books. The experiences of the great and the good and the wise all here for the asking. As a teacher it has always been my privilege to share these wonders with my charges, to guide them through the labyrinthian joys of good books, (pause) As a writer, it has always been my fondest hope to contribute . . in some modest way . . to this great stream of thought and feeling that has been, is, and will always be . . our cultural heritage. JANE (claps her hands) Hurrah. Hurrah. (Pause. She yawns.) I don't know who ordered this command performance, but I'll take a rain check. I'm going to bed. 135

KEITH NEILSON ALEX No! You must hear this out. Let me read you something, (takes a book and thumbs through it until he comes to a particular passage which he begins to read aloud} From Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice'. "While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding whether she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr. Darcy, by the feelings which prevailed on his entering the room . . No sooner did he appear than Elizabeth wisely resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed." (looks at Jane) How about that? JANE (yawns again) Doesn't do a thing to me. ALEX Did a lot for John. John what's-his-name. You remember, the painter fellow. You know: "Barefoot Boy with Switchblade Knife." He really liked that passage. JANE ( uneasy at mention of John ) Oh . . ALEX (tosses the book into the center of the stage, then shakes a finger at Jane) Just one more thing before you go. One final thought to take to bed with you. JANE Yes? ALEX

Adolf Hitler was not all bad! JANE (short burst of laughter) What? ALEX I simply said that Adolf Hitler was not all bad. I mean, he had some good points. Some qualities. Some excellent qualities. JANE I'm through trying to make any sense out of you tonight. ALEX After all, he made the trams run on time, didn't he? JANE

That was Mussolini. ALEX Well then, he didn't eat meat, (grabs another book from the bookcase) Ah, here it is; a beautiful book . . Dracula, by Bram Stoker.

136

THE END OF THE WORLD JANE I never read it. BOTH But I saw the movie. (Both laugh, she very nervously.) ALEX Wonderful man, Dracula. Good breeding. Excellent blood lines. Transylvanian aristocracy. JANE Several hundred years I understand. ALEX Yes, it takes a long time to cultivate a real aristocrat. JANE Especially when you only work nights. ALEX

It's too bad about that. That's why I always rooted for them. JANE You rooted for the vampires. ALEX Of course. I always root for the underdog. JANE The underdog? ALEX Have you ever considered what those poor fellows were up against? JANE No . . I . . ALEX

(continuing) Like you said, they could only work nights. The rest of the time they had to lay there, helpless, where any fool of a Boy Scout could jam a tent-peg through their hearts. You could scare them away with (enumerates on fingers) mirrors, crosses, wolf-bane . . why if their watch was even a bit slow and they got caught with the sun up . . zap. A bag of bones! JANE That does seem a bit unf ah*. ALEX But they kept it up. In spite of the odds against them they fought for their few pounds of flesh . . pints of blood that is. Ah, for the days when evil still had some spunk and character. When terror was out there. Evil should be reserved for the pure in heart, (tosses the book on top of Pride and Prejudice) It's not our kind of world, dear count. Evil has lost the good 137

KEITH NEILSON

name that fine black souls like yours tried so hard to give it. You wouldn't recognize it today, (takes more books and tosses them onto the pile) Romeo and Juliet. Too beautiful for this world (tosses it and a couple more) Grimm's Fairy Tales, (to Jane) Pretty grim, eh Jane? Don't you get it? JANE (sour) Very funny. But I am tired. I do want to go to bed! (She walks toward an exit; Alex stops her.) ALEX No! JANE

(turning to him) You have a little scene you want to do, eh, Alex? ALEX I think it is rather impolite of you to want to leave hi the middle of our conversation. Why don't you sit down over there, (points to the long table) JANE All right, professor, but this had better be good. I am sleepy. ALEX No where were we? Oh yes. I said: "Pretty grim" and you responded . . sarcastically . . "very funny," indicating that you missed that point. So now I'll make my point: how can you appreciate good books if you can't appreciate bad jokes? It's all the same, you know. Read one book and you've read 'em all. (tosses a couple more books) Now here we are. Here is a book that really matters: Grandmother's Favorite Olde American Folk Songs. Let's see. (thumbs a bit, finds a song, and begins to sing in a kind of mock hillbilly voice) Go tell Aunt Rhody, Go tell Aunt Rhody, Go tell Aunt Rhody, The old Gray Goose is dead . . (pauses, tosses the book on the pile) JANE What are you doing? ALEX As I said before, that Hitler fellow wasn't all bad. (walks over to the bar and lights two standing candles) He had some good ideas, especially about books. He knew what to do with them. JANE You're not serious. 138

THE END OF THE WORLD ALEX

Of course I am. (takes the candles and places one on each side of Jane, then walks back to the books and takes another one) The Collected Works of Gertrude Stein. Dear Saint Gertie: "Pigeons on the grass" —yer ass. (tosses it onto the pile) JANE Have you gone crazy? ALEX What did you say, dear? (begins to pick up the books from the floor and shove them into the stove or fireplace at the end of the stage while he delivers his next couple of speeches ) JANE Are you insane? ALEX Crazy? Insane? No, no, I haven't gone crazy or insane. Whatever made you think that? JANE You have lost your mindl ALEX Unfortunately . . I have never been able to lose my mind. Irrationality is reserved for souls more hearty and practical than mine. I am cursed to see things as they are and add two and two into infinite fours. That's my problem, love. That's it . . as the dear Reverend Homewood used to say . . in a nutshell, (takes another book, looks at it) Pascal's Pensees (oratorical') "man is but a thinking reed" . . Upon whom the dogs all peed. (laughs, tosses it back into the stove} How's that for improvisational verse? JANE (muted anger) I've always known you're a talented man. ALEX What are you looking for, love? Some new kind of phoenix? No such luck. (waves at stove) R.I.P. . . The Old Gray Goose Is Cooked, (pause) Something missing, though. Something perhaps not worthy of such company, but necessary all the same. (Jane remains seated on the table; she is frightened and baffled, doesn't know what to expect next and so does nothing. Alex goes to the lectern and takes his manuscript. Then he walks over to Jane and stands in front of her for a moment. Then, slowly, he rips one page from the manuscript and burns it in one of the candles at her side. Jane does not fully realize what he has done until he steps back with the burning page in his hand.) 139

KEITH NEILSON JANE

NO! (Alex drops the burning page on the floor and Jane starts stamping out the flame. Alex goes to the stove, opens it wider, and begins stuffing the pages of his manuscript into it one by one.) ALEX What's wrong? Can't I burn my own effort? Seems unfair if I don't. JANE That is good. You can't throw it away like that. (Jane tries to stop him; perhaps she even succeeds in slamming the stove door shut once.) ALEX

You are disregarding the rights of private property. (Alex blocks her and starts ripping pages out faster and throwing them around the stage. Jane, confused, starts going after the separate sheets in a frantic effort to catch as many of them as she can. This activity takes place during the following short speeches.) Yes. It is good. It is very good. And that doesn't make one goddamn bit of difference! JANE Yes, it does! ALEX The old gray goose is dead! JANE No. ALEX THE OLD GRAY GOOSE IS DEAD! D-E-A-D! DEAD! JANE

Too much has gone into that book. Too much of me as well as you. (At this point Jane collapses, clutching a bundle of torn pages from the manuscript.) ALEX

You're right, my dear, it's a very good book. Let me do a reading from it. Here. The dedication. No, sorry, not to you. (to lectern, oratorical) Now hear this: Dedicated to all the poor bastards in the world. May they never take the pennies from their eyelids and look up! Do you know what this book is? JANE No, you tell ME! ALEX

(turns to her, clutching the manuscript in his hand. He may even shake it at her for emphasis) REVENGE! (pause, very anguished) A tightrope walker . . over a black chasm . . a black abyss. And they say "don't 140

THE END OF THE WORLD look down, you'll get dizzy." But he looks anyways. He gets dizzy. He reels. He's about to fall, (pause) So he grabs! Gropes out for those dumb fellows . . for those poor, simple, silly asses whose animal instincts give them the good sense not to look down. He's jealous, our fellow, he's jealous as hell and wants revengel (pause, calms) But I've lost my energy. My sense of humor. And the only alternative to laughter is not tears . . it is to sit still, (collapses into the chair near the stove) JANE (slowly) God created the world hi seven days and committed suicide on the eighth as an insult to you, personally, (pause) I think I am tired of you. Really tired of you this tune, (gets up and throws the torn pages to the floor) ALEX Why art thou forsaking me? JANE (goes to an exit, pauses, and turns back toward him) Because thou art a crybabyl He didn't whimper those words: He bit them off in anger. (pause) You may be one hundred per cent correct, but you simper about it too much. Only tears, not even enough saliva for a good spit. I'm not coming back this time, (pause) And you don't care. You really don't care. ALEX

"He drew a short breath and said lightly, but softly: 'My dear, I do not give a fuck.'" JANE (catching on) Neither do I. Not today. Not tomorrow, (takes another step toward the exit) ALEX Don't slam the door, please, Nora. JANE "And is this the way the world ends?" ALEX

You've decided to play? Or are you just leaving the scene? JANE (more intensely) "So this is the way the world ends?" ALEX

The door, Nora. JANE

"So this is the way the world ends?" (These next speeches must be coordinated so that they both say the word "bang" at the same instant with his angry shout covering her voice.) Not with a . . bang . . 141

KEITH NEILSON ALEX . . Please don't (shouts) BANG! . . the door on your way out, Nora. JANE No. Of course not, I wouldn't think of it. (Pause. Shakes her head.) If there is anything I can't stand it is a secondhand mind. (Jane exits. Alex slowly pushes his chair around until it is right in front of the stove opening. Then he walks over to the long table and pinches out the candles. He returns to his chair and spits. Then he begins to rip the pages out of the manuscript again and stuffs them one by one into the stove. After about three pages are in the stove, he takes the matches and lights one of the pages, sticks it into the stove. Stage lights dim slowly. Alex blows out the match on the last phrase of the taped voice.) ALEX'S VOICE ON TAPE My new novel is called Interiors. I try to put them down and they add up to something. That's all for the writer to do. The glimmers, glimpses of your life as you happen to touch them. Write them down as you know they are getting faster and falser, (pause) Nothing to be done, (complete darkness) THE END

The End of the World by Keith Neilson opened on August 14, 1968, at the Playhouse in the Park, Cincinnati, Ohio. It was directed by Brooks Jones, with settings and lighting by Joseph Pacitti and costumes by Barbara Kay. Cast of Characters CLUBWOMAN, MRS. BERKOWITZ,

MRS. JAMES ALEX JAMES BETTY LOU, MRS. JOHNSON INTERVIEWER, DETECTIVE ANN GIRL STUDENT JANE JAMES

Dorothy Kornmann Michael Lipton Diane Danzi Sidney Kennedy Margaret Rachlin Jeanne Rostaing Laurie Brooks-Jefferson

THE DEAN, AMOS STEIN, DETECTIVE

JOHN BURKE KATE BURKE REV. GEORGE HOMEWOOD

John Scanlan

Ronald Bishop Marjorie Thurston Larry Pine 142