Playwrights for Tomorrow: v.5: A Collection of Plays

Playwrights for Tomorrow VOLUME 5

Fair Beckoning One BY SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK

The New Chautauqua BY F R E D E R I C K GAINES

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 5

THE UNIVERSITY OF MINNESOTA PRESS • M I N N E A P O L I S

© Copyright 1969 by the University of Minnesota Fair Beckoning One © Copyright 1968 by Sarah Monson Koebnick. The New Chautauqua © Copyright 1969 by Frederick Gaines. 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 FAIR BECKONING ONE by Sarah Monson Koebnick page 7 THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA by Frederick Gaines page 63

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Playwrights for Tomorrow VOLUME 5

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INTRODUCTION

Arthur H. Ballet

I N 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 hi 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 dell'arte 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 bkds: 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.

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SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK

Fair Beckoning One

to my daughter, Kathi Jean Oxenreider

Cast of Characters CALISANDRA RUFFIE SUE RICHARD OLAV BERG HONEY CLARE ATTENDANTS RUBY CARRIE MARY

The Setting An empty room . . old-fashioned furniture, a sofa, a matching chair, library table, a desk on which stand a telephone and a few knickknacks; also the telephone book and the daily paper are neatly stacked on the desk. There is a china cabinet filled with fancy cups and favorite plates; a mirror hangs over the china cabinet. There are several other chairs. The only modern notes are a radio and a TV. There is a rocking chair standing directly opposite the overstuffed chair. The rocking chair is in poor condition, the rungs under the seat being noticeably separated from the standards or legs of the chair. It looks very wobbly but otherwise it is a very nice chair indeed, showing loving care. There are both window curtains and drapes at the three windows, two of the windows being on one wall. The third window is on the wall hi which the outside door is situated. There is a clothes closet between the window and the door. On the opposite wall is a door which leads into the bedroom area of the house. On the wall between the kitchen and bedroom doors hang two charcoal drawings, a man and a woman dressed in clothes of about the 1870's. They are elderly folk; the man sits sternly in a chair, the woman holds a bouquet of flowers evidently from her own garden. There is a fichu about her neck. Everything in the room looks old but well-kept and neat.

FAIR BECKONING ONE

ACT ONE A loud moan is heard and a hoarse voice calls "CALISANDRA," drawing the name out as if each letter is hard to enunciate. A moment of silence and again the voice calls "CALISANDRA." Calisandra enters the room. She is a tall, thin woman in her mid-seventies. Her hair is snow-white and fastened at one side with a barrette as it was when she was six years old. She is rather unkempt in an apron and housedress. She wears glasses but cannot see well. She peers about the room. She walks in exaggerated quietness across the room and sits down in the overstuffed chair. Again the voice calls, saying in a hoarse, low-keyed moan, "CALISANDRA." Calisandra does not move but she listens with a sly, malicious smile upon her face. At last she rises and moves about the room, picking up a knickknack from the desk, examining it closely, dusting it a bit with her apron. She sets it back on the desk, decides to rearrange the items on the desk more to her liking; then with a sudden gesture she pushes the papers and the telephone book off the desk to the floor and stands looking at them in a satisfied manner. She is leisurely and seems to be enjoying the mess she is creating. Again the voice calls her name. Again she ignores it, but she moves very quietly so as not to let the person of the voice know she is in the room. From time to time she glances, in a rather apprehensive manner, toward the bedroom door from which the voice issues. The doorbell rings. It is an old-fashioned doorbell with three notes — do-re-mi. It rings again. Calisandra goes to the window, pulls the drape, and, poking at the curtain, peers out to see © 1968 by Sarah Monson Koebnick. Address inquiries concerning performance or translation rights to Sarah Monson Koebnick, Route 2, Willmar, Minnesota 56201.

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SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK who is at the door. She appears satisfied with what she sees and goes to the door. She unlocks the door, unhooks the screen door, and steps back to allow Ruffie Sue and Richard to enter. Ruffie Sue is shorter than Calisandra and far more stylish. She wears a good navy blue coat, a navy blue silk dress, a flowered hat, a wristwatch, and several rings. She also wears a hearing aid. Her hair is slightly blue, slightly curly, and worn in a bun at the back of her neck, as we see when she removes her hat. She is eightythree and still very attractive. Richard is a tall, heavyset man. He is between Ruffie Sue and Calisandra in age, about eighty-one. He limps and uses a cane, which he leans upon heavily. His face occasionally shows a twinge of pain; otherwise he is a well-preserved man for his age and like Ruffie Sue shows breeding and suavity we do not see in Calisandra. RUFFIE SUE

It's us, Calisandra, Ruffie Sue and Richard. We drove in as soon as we could this morning. Richard had to feed the cats and tie the dog before we could come and, you know, that dog would not let Richard catch him. He is a smart dog. He knew we were going away. Calisandra, Richard shall get my suitcase after a bit. Richard says I am to stay in town with you and help with the care of Honey Clare. CALISANDRA

Come in, come in. No use trying to heat the whole outdoors. Richard, wait until I get a paper to set your rubbers on. It's hard enough to keep the rug clean without getting mud on it. Ruffie Sue, you may as well hang Richard's coat up when you hang your own. (She lays a newspaper from the desk on the floor beside Richard, who has stood patiently waiting. He now leans his cane against the wall and painfully bends over to take off his rubbers.) I'm tired out from taking care of Honey Clare. It's been "Calisandra, do this . . Calisandra, I want that" every minute of every blessed day since she took to her bed. I don't get one thing done but wait on Honey Clare. (Calisandra flops down into the overstuffed chair, sitting with her arms on the chair arms and her feet sticking straight out in front of her. She is anything but graceful. Richard limps over to the sofa, sits down, lays his cane beside the sofa, and lies down, closing his eyes. He has not said a word since entering the house. Ruffie Sue goes over to the mirror on the wall, primps a bit, walks over to the rocking chair, and begins to examine it closely. One can see it would be a very dangerous place to sit.) RUFFIE SUE

Richard shall buy some glue so we can fix the chair. Calisandra, remember how Honey Clare took it apart and packed it in her big suitcase and 10

FAIR BECKONING ONE brought it along from the west? That was clever of Honey Clare, we saved so much expense . . bringing it along back with us as luggage. Remember the conductor on the train . . when he lifted that suitcase up on the luggage rack for Honey Clare? He couldn't believe a suitcase could be so heavy. We laughed . . Calisandra . . you and I laughed . . but Honey Clare didn't laugh. CALISANDRA

She isn't laughing now, either. (Again the moaning voice of Honey Clare is heard, calling and pleading for Calisandra. Calisandra lays her head on the back of the chair and gazes at the ceiling. She does not move.) RICHARD

(speaking at last) Shouldn't you see what she wants, Calisandra? She is calling for you. CALISANDRA

(testily) I can hear. I can hear. No need to tell me she's calling. But I tell you this, Richard. I'm tired. RUFFIE SUE

(soothingly) Of course, you are tired, Calisandra. Honey Clare expects a lot of attention. CALISANDRA

(carelessly) She'll soon get it. The administrator of the Home of Sweet Rest is coming to talk to her about admitting her to the Home. I can't take care of Honey Clare and the house, too. Richard, I ain't so young no more either. RICHARD

(alertly and surprised) Home of Sweet Rest? Who told the Home about Honey Clare? CALISANDRA

If you want to know . . I did. Honey Clare wanted us both to spend the winter there last year, but for once I wasn't afraid to put my foot down. I said, "Honey Clare," I said, "I ain't going there until I go for good." I said, "I'm thirteen years younger than you are, what would I do in an old folks' home? I'm too young, Honey Clare," I said. RUFFIE SUE (rising and going over to Calisandra, places her hand comfortingly on Calisandra's shoulder) Yes, you are too young, Calisandra. You are much too young to go to a home. You have so much to live for. You can't go to a home. They say you stagnate in a home, (changing the subject) Rich11

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK ard says I am to stay and help you. After a while, Richard shall go to the car for my suitcase. CALISANDRA

(peevishly) It's time someone helped me with Honey Clare. She wants this, she wants that. I'm tired out from it all. (Honey Clare is again heard moaning Calisandra's name.) RICHARD

Why don't you go and see what she wants? CALISANDRA

Because I KNOW what she wants. She wants me. I'm worn out, I tell you. RICHARD

I'll go and see what she wants. (Richard rises painfully from the sofa, picks up his cane, and walks into the bedroom. Honey Clare and Richard can be heard talking together although we cannot hear what they are saying.") RUFFIE SUE

Honey Clare will always listen to Richard, no matter how sharp she may be with us. Calisandra, you are tired out. We shall share the work. I will do the housework and you shall take care of Honey Clare. I have been thinking about it and I believe that would be fair. CALISANDRA

(still stuck on the old theme) It's "Do this, do that," all day and all night. I'm tired out. RICHARD (returns from Honey Clare's room, saying) Calisandra, don't you think . . CALISANDRA

(in exasperation) I tell you, Richard, I'm tired out. I can't work and think at the same time. It is hard work taking care of Honey Clare. RUFFIE SUE Yes, Richard, Calisandra is tired out. I'm going to do my best to help her now. (struck with a thought) But both of you know very well Honey Clare does not like me. RICHARD Calisandra, how long has Honey Clare been like this? CALISANDRA

(lolling lazily in the chair) Well, let's see. Today is Monday, isn't it? Yes, well then it was late last Friday night when she was getting up off the sofa . . all of a sudden she sat down again. I had to laugh she looked so surprised. She said . . "Don't act like a fool, Calisandra," and she tried 12

FAIR BECKONING ONE to get up again and fell back again. She looked at me so mad . . just as if I'd done something to her and she said, "Shut off that TV," and all of a sudden her face began to twist and she kind of moaned, "I'm sick," and she's been like this ever since. I tell you, it's been hard on me. RICHARD How did she get to her bed? CALISANDRA

(examining her fingernails) Oh, after a while I says to her, I says, "You want I should call the doctor for you, Honey Clare?" She glared at me and she said . . kind of hoarse and hard to understand . . she said . . (tries to imitate Honey Clare's speech) she said . . "Who'll pay the doctor . . don't talk like a fool" . . and she sat there a while and I sat watching her. Finally she slid to the floor and started to crawl to her bedroom. She had to stop once in a while and once or twice she lay so still I thought to myself, well there's an end to Honey Clare, but no . . she managed to crawl into her bedroom, and between her and me . . we got her onto her bed. It wasn't easy for me . . Honey Clare is heavy . . and fat. I was worn out by the time she lay down. I was too tired to undress her so I covered her with a blanket and went to my own bedroom. I thought no use getting too excited until morning. Well, come morning she was no better. (Calisandra shows enjoyment at being the center of so much attention. ) She still didn't want a doctor. She didn't eat a thing all the blessed day and didn't talk much either. Towards dark she said maybe I better call the doctor, so I slipped into my sweater and dropped over to tell him he better get over here. He wasn't too happy about it, said I could have come earlier, not waited so long, but he did say he would come, I should go home. When he did get here he looked at Honey Clare and said Honey Clare was eighty-seven and the machinery was beginning to wear out. He did say I should have called him as soon as Honey Clare got the stroke, but what could I do? (defensively) Honey Clare said not to. RUFFIE SUE

You did just fine, Calisandra. You did just what Honey Clare told you to do. CALISANDRA

(continuing) He helped undress her and get her under the bed covers and said to call him if there was any change and that was that. Must have cost a lot and all for nothing. Then I thought to myself, why shouldn't I call Ruffle Sue and Richard, she's their sister, too. I didn't ask Honey Clare if I should. I took it upon myself to do it. I told the doctor I wasn't much for telephoning and he should call Richard for me and put it on the bill 13

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK if there was any charge, (struck with sudden thought) Do you suppose he will put it on the bill, Ruffie Sue? It couldn't be more than twenty-five cents, (moans heard from Honey Clare) RICHARD

Of course he'll put it on the bill, Calisandra. Why shouldn't he? There's no reason in this world why he should pay for your telephone calls. CALISANDRA

But twenty-five cents? Would he be that cheap? Well, we'll see when he sends the bill. But I'd be ashamed if I was him to put twenty-five cents extra on a bill. (She is very excited about it.) RUFFIE SUE (consolingly) He won't put twenty-five cents on the bill, Calisandra. He will charge you an extra dollar for the house call and you will never know if he charged for the telephone call or not. CALISANDRA

(appeased by this logic) That's right. Of course, he will. (Honey Clare's moans are getting louder.) RICHARD

She's calling you again, Calisandra. CALISANDRA

I know, I know, Richard. I can hear. RICHARD

(beginning to be irritated) Go and see what she wants. RUFFIE SUE

I will go, Richard. Calisandra is worn out. RICHARD

(being obstinate) Honey Clare and Calisandra have lived together ever since Honey Clare got her pension thirty-seven years ago. Honey Clare has taken care of Calisandra all this time, so it's only fair that Calisandra look after Honey Clare now. CALISANDRA

(amazed) Honey Clare look after me? It's been . . "Calisandra, it's time to cook dinner," "Don't bite your nails, Calisandra," "Comb your hair, have you washed your teeth," "Time to iron, Calisandra," "Do this, don't do that." (excitedly) And now Honey Clare is sick. She wants to be waited on every minute. I'm kept busy rushing about taking care of her and of this house. Honey Clare take care of ME! Hah! (She does not stir. Ruffie Sue goes into the bedroom. There is a loud roar and unintelligible noises. Ruffie Sue returns to the living room looking harassed.)

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FAIR BECKONING ONE RUFFIE SUE

She wants you, Calisandra. She says it's about business. She says you are the only person in the world she can trust with her business. CALISANDRA

Well, she needn't think I'm going to do any business for her today. There's so much work with her being sick . . and like I say . . I can't be expected to work and think, too. RUFFIE SUE (soothingly) Of course, you can't, Calisandra. (coaxingly) But do go see what she wants, so she'll be quiet. CALISANDRA

I suppose I'll have to. (Calisandra goes into the bedroom. Richard again lies down on the sofa and covers his face with a newspaper. Ruffie Sue goes to sit in the overstuffed chair opposite the rocking chair and sits contemplating it. The voice of Honey Clare is heard in angry, domineering, guttural notes and Calisandra is heard in whining, peevish reply. There are various thumps and bumps, exclamations by Calisandra. When Calisandra returns to the living room, her hair is more disarranged than before, her face is red. She looks angry. Ruffie Sue looks up at her inquiringly.) Know what she wanted? She wanted me to crawl to the back of her closet and dig out some papers and stuff from her trunk. She wants to throw away a lot of rubbish so when she goes to the Home she won't have to worry about someone going through her private correspondence. RUFFIE SUE

(smiling) Honey Clare have private correspondence! She needn't worry about that. I KNOW Honey Clare never had a young man writing letters to her. I believe that is the only private paper anyone is ever interested in. Why, no young man ever so much as called once on either you or Honey Clare. CALISANDRA

(tartly) Neither me nor Honey Clare had to go through all you did either, you being a widow and all. We were spared that. RUFFIE SUE Oh, it isn't so bad . . being a widow, (smiling gently) I don't mind one bit being a widow. CALISANDRA

This has nothing to do with being a widow, being married, OR young men. What Honey Clare wanted . . she wanted to look over some old pictures she wants to give away before she goes to the Home. 15

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK RUFFIE SUE

Old pictures! Of whom? CALISANDRA

Goodness knows whose pictures. The trunk is full of them. She said to take the pictures of Grandma and Grandpa (waves to the two pictures on the wall) and send them out to the farm with Richard. Then she wants Aunt Savila's girls to have the big picture of Aunt Savila that hangs in her bedroom. She's sorting out the pictures from the trunk now. That should keep her busy and quiet for a while. RUFFIE SUE

(Idly) I always liked that picture of Aunt Savila. She had such a lot of beautiful hair. CALISANDRA

I don't believe she lost a hair from her head from the day she was born until she died, it was that thick. RUFFIE SUE

Do you know when the man from the Home is coming? CALISANDRA

I suppose any minute now. They say he's lost quite a few patients since the new home went up in the south part of town. Seems they play bingo and rummy in the new home and lots of folk thought they'd try that instead of having tracts read to them. That's what they do in the Home of Sweet Rest. RUFFIE SUE

Richard is used to having his lunch, you know, Calisandra. Maybe we should fix a snack . . and some tea? I do believe it would be good for us all. CALISANDRA

Didn't you eat before you came? RUFFIE SUE

Yes, we ate before we came. Why? CALISANDRA

You know Honey Clare doesn't believe in lunching between meals. RUFFIE SUE

(firmly) Honey Clare will have to let Richard have his lunch. We'll see if she is hungry, too. (adroitly, whether intentional or not) And you should have a snack, Calisandra. It will help you to keep up. CALISANDRA

I should try to keep up my strength, that's true. And when Richard goes to the car for your suitcase he can just as well drive down to the store for

16

FAIR BECKONING ONE a few things. It will save me a trip. I have to take care of myself, no one else will. RUFFIE SUE You sit down and rest, Calisandra. I will make us something to eat. If you need something from the grocery store, we will telephone and have them bring it up. Richard is in pain from his arthritis. CALISANDRA

Do you think you can find your way around in the kitchen? RUFFIE SUE

Calisandra, do you forget this is my house? I lived in it for years before you ever did and unless you have changed things about without my permission, of course I can find my way around in it. CALISANDRA

(laughing nervously) I do forget it is your house. You are out on the farm now with Richard and before that in California with Daneen. RUFFIE SUE It's just because of Honey Clare that I am out on the farm with Richard, and not here in my own house, where I should be. You know Honey Clare finds it very hard to get along with me and rather than send you out to live goodness knows where, I gave up living in my own house and went out to Richard . . just so you and Honey Clare could have a home. I've been good to you, Calisandra, I do hope you appreciate it. CALISANDRA

(appreciation is the last emotion she would feel) You and Richard are good company for each other. You haven't been suffering. You like to ride about and Richard takes you. RUFFIE SUE (diverted) Yes, Richard and I lead a busy life, a very busy life. We go here, we go there. We go away practically every nice day. When the weather is cold or rainy we stay home. Richard suffers so from his arthritis on those days, but when the weather is nice we go away practically every day, don't we, Richard? (does not wait for a reply) We should have gone for a long pleasure drive again today, except that you had the doctor call us about Honey Clare. CALISANDRA

Well, she's your sister, too, Rufne Sue . . as I've said before. (Ruffle Sue goes into the kitchen; dishes are heard rattling. Calisandra remains sprawled in the overstuffed chair, not heeding Honey Clare's repeated moans and calls. Richard rests on the sofa.) 17

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK RUFFIE SUE

(entering, carrying a tray on which are dishes) I thought I'd warm this chicken soup for Honey Clare. I don't suppose she has been eating much of anything. Calisandra . . you know how angry she gets when she sees me . . suppose you take it in to her. CALISANDRA

Suppose YOU take it in to her, Ruffie Sue. I'm resting. RUFFIE SUE

Yes, you are resting, Calisandra; I will take it in to her. (She carries the tray into the bedroom. We hear her say cheerily "Lunchtime, Honey Clare," then a roar of anger and a crash of dishes are heard. Ruffie Sue enters the living room looking distressed and carrying just the tray.) She threw the cup of soup on the floor. She said she wouldn't eat anything I brought her. She wants another cup of soup, Calisandra, but she wants you to bring it to her. CALISANDRA

She does? She can wait until I've had some lunch myself before I take it in to her. And she's been feeding herself all this while; she can still do it. I tell you this, Ruffie Sue, if she doesn't like what you do for her, she can wait until I'm ready. RUFFIE SUE Richard, would you like me to bring your lunch on a tray? Richard, wake up, do you want your lunch on a tray? RICHARD (removing the papers from his face) Why yes, you can bring me my lunch if you will, Ruffie Sue. CALISANDRA

You spoil Richard waiting on him like that. You will have the same problem with him that I have with Honey Clare. RUFFIE SUE

Richard's arthritis has been so bad, I try to save him as many steps as I can. CALISANDRA

(maliciously) Nobody tries to save me many steps. If your arthritis is so bad, Richard, how can you drive a car? (Richard does not answer.) You can bring his lunch in here, Ruffie Sue, but you and I will eat in the kitchen. No use having three of us scatter crumbs in here. RICHARD (sitting up slowly) I'll take my tray into the bedroom and visit Honey Clare while I eat. 18

FAIR BECKONING ONE CALISANDRA

You do that. Put a cup of soup on the tray for Honey Clare, Ruffle Sue. Richard can get Honey Clare to drink it while he is eating his lunch. That will save a lot of wear and tear on me. (Ruffle Sue goes into the kitchen again. Richard leans back and closes his eyes. It is plain he has nothing to say to Calisandra. Calisandra stares at Richard and the sofa. Ruffle Sue returns with the tray containing the soup and Richard's snack. She puts the tray on the library table, picks up Richard's cane, and stands by compassionately while he gets to his feet. He takes the cane from her and picks the tray up from the table. He likes to wait upon himself.) RUFFIE SUE

(watching him) You must carry the tray into the bedroom, Richard. She will throw the cup at me most likely if I go in there again. (Richard limps slowly and awkwardly into the bedroom, cane in one hand, tray in the other. Ruffle Sue and Calisandra disappear into the kitchen but they are barely out of the room when the doorbell rings — do-re-me It rings again. Finally a knock is heard. Calisandra emerges from the kitchen, wiping her mouth on her apron. She goes to the window, lifts the curtain aside a bit to ascertain who is at the door. She stands studying the person thoughtfully before she goes to the door to open it. She unlocks the door, unhooks the screen door. Mr. Berg, not waiting to be invited in, enters.) MR. BERG

(smooth, mellow voice) Miss Hanneson? My name is Berg, Olav Berg, and I believe you spoke to me about entering the Home of Sweet Rest. (He holds out his hand, expecting it to be shook; instead Calisandra is very busy picking at something stuck in her teeth.) CALISANDRA Oh yes. Well, come hi and sit down. We were just about ready to have a bit to eat, but it will be all right if you want to sit here and wait. MR. BERG

I see. (He is white-haired, smoothly, professionally sympathetic, and an apparent go-getter. He has set his briefcase on the floor but now he picks it up again.) Would you like me to come back later? I have another appointment for this afternoon. I can go there first and drop by here again later. CALISANDRA

(alarmed by the thought of his going) You might as well wait. Sooner over, sooner it's done I always say. I'll tell Ruffie Sue and Richard you're here. (She goes into the kitchen. Mr. Berg goes to the rocking chair, spies its condition, shakes it, then goes to the overstuffed chair, and sits down. 19

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK He sets his briefcase beside the chair and looks appraisingly about the room. Ruffie Sue and Calisandra enter from the kitchen. Without a word of introduction between Mr. Berg and Ruffie Sue, Calisandra goes to the bedroom door to call Richard. He is just limping out of the bedroom and they collide. The dishes and tray fall to the floor with a crash. Both Richard and Calisandra bend to pick them up. Ruffie Sue clucks about them.) I was just coming to tell you, Richard, the man from the Home of Sweet Rest is here, (raising her voice) You hear, Honey Clare? The man from the Home is here. You want us to come in there and talk or shall Richard and Ruffie Sue and me find out what's what and tell you later? (Honey Clare stumbles out a reply only Calisandra can interpret. Calisandra turns to Mr. Berg.) She wants us to find out all the facts and tell her later, (to Richard) Give me the tray, Richard, before you drop it again. (Both she and Richard rise with difficulty, Richard reaching for his cane, which has slipped away. Mr. Berg is right there to pick it up and place it in his hands. Richard is reluctant to accept the courtesy. Calisandra again turns to Mr. Berg.) I tell you I've had my hands full these last few days. MR. BERG

(Soothingly and sympathetically) I'm sure you have. (Calisandra goes into the kitchen with the tray and returns. All are seated: Richard sits on a straight chair idly drawing lines on the carpet with his cane; Ruffie Sue and Calisandra sit side by side on the sofa. They look at Mr. Berg expectantly as he sits in the overstuffed chair. He clears his throat, shifts his hat from one knee to the other, brushes a speck from it, decides to put it on the floor beside his chair. Finding he has the undivided attention of everyone he lifts his briefcase from the floor.) I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you (turns to Richard) or you (bowing to Ruffie Sue). Now Berg is my name, Olav Berg, and I am the administrator for the Home of Sweet Rest. I was called here to discuss the possible entry of a patient to the Home, (smiling playfully at Calisandra) What is the name of our possible guest? CALISANDRA

Oh, that's Honey Clare. She's in the bedroom there. She had a stroke the other day and can't get up. Lies in bed all day. MR. BERG

I take it the patient is completely helpless then? CALISANDRA

She can feed herself when she wants to if that's what you want to know. She can't get out of bed and every single thing that's done in this house since last Friday evening is done by me. And I ain't so strong, either. 20

FAIR BECKONING ONE MR. BERG

I am sure it has been hard for you. Now that's where the Home of Sweet Rest comes in. We can do so much to lift the burdens of both the afflicted and those who care for them, (sounds like the undertaker) In many cases, such as this for example, we have found it is much easier for all concerned if the patient comes to us. In fact, it is best if the family give up all thought of home care. We have trained personnel to care for every patient, no matter what the ailment and what degree of severity it has progressed to. RICHARD (not looking up) It isn't like home, though. CALISANDRA

Richard, Honey Clare was the first to mention going to the Home of Sweet Rest. She wants to go! MR. BERG

Yes, we find that once a guest comes to us, he seldom wants to return to his home, even when this is possible. RICHARD

Who told you that? CALISANDRA

(eagerly) When can Honey Clare come to the home, Mr. Berg? MR. BERG

We have a few preliminary questions we like to ask before we go into that. (He reaches into his briefcase and brings out a questionnaire, takes his pen from his inside pocket, tries it to see if it is in working order. There is complete silence in the room as he looks at the calendar on the wall, fills in the date, consults his notes, and finally speaks.) Does the patient . . or guest . . as we like to say, have her own means or will she be receiving care through local agencies? CALISANDRA

Honey Clare don't need charity. She has got her pension. She worked thirty-five years for a company in the city and then she decided to come back here. She has got a good pension out of it, I will say that. She can take care of herself . . that is . . if you don't ask too much. How much is room and board at the Home? By the month? MR. BERG

Now, we do not say room and board by the month. We find it works out much better if we say we charge so much per night. Of course that includes the day, too . . a-n-d . . the meals, nursing care, etc. But special expenses are naturally met by each individual guest. 21

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK RICHARD

What special expenses? MR. BERG

These include doctor bills, medication, special nurses if such are required, dietary foods outside of our regular regime. CALISANDRA

How much is the charge for every night? MR. BERG

That, again, will depend on if the guest is ambulatory or is confined to the bed and also whatever special services are required. RICHARD

What special services? MR. BERG

That again, we will not know until we have the guest in the Home and find out (smiling) his special needs. You understand. CALISANDRA

(blinking at Mr. Berg) I don't want to come to the Home. MR. BERG

(smiling as at a child) I understood it was your sister who was to come. CALISANDRA

Yes, it is. It's Honey Clare. She wants I should come, too. Honey Clare says she can't look after me unless I come to the Home. I don't want to come. MR. BERG

We understand your problem. Although we do find in many cases it helps a guest to adjust if a relative is a guest, too. CALISANDRA

I'm too young to go to a home. Maybe I'll come . . in . . say . . five . . maybe ten years . . but I'm not making any promises. Right now I got this house to keep up and I'll have to get someone to mow the lawn when it needs it . . and then the flowers . . Nobody will see to all the chores if I don't do it. Honey Clare used to, but now that's out. (complainingly) Flowers! Honey Clare is great for flowers. MR. BERG

(angling for another guest) You realize we encourage our guests to feel at home. We let them go outside and enjoy the flowers and the landscaping. We have our flowers and although it sounds like I am bragging (laughing) . . which I am . . our lawn is the envy of many homes. RICHARD

Do you let your guests (emphasizing the -word "guest") pick the flowers? 22

FAIR BECKONING ONE MR. BERG

Well now, we couldn't do that, you know. We would have all the guests picking flowers and there would be none left for the landscape effect. RUFFIE SUE (fiddling with her hearing aid) Mr. Berg, is it, I'll just turn my hearing aid up now. The battery seems to be low . . or perhaps you don't speak very loud . . and I do want to hear what you say. (She experiments -with the hearing aid until she is satisfied with the reception.) Now then . . I want to ask you how is that nice Mrs. Julke or Yulke or whatever her name was. She used to live hi Sundown, you know, and her husband died when he was a young man and she supported her children by working hi the bank for . . oh . . I don't know how many years. MR. BERG

You mean Mrs. Ramulke. She is fine, just fine. Her mind is completely gone of course and we have to watch her every minute for fear she will wander away. We feed her every bite she eats, but physically she is just fine. We have a good many like that. We figured up the other day and the average age of our guests hi the Home is around ninety. That includes some who are past one hundred and a few who became senile very young . . say in their forties. Looking at our record, you can see we take very good care of our guests. Don't worry about a thing . . (smiling at Ruffle Sue, \vho even at eighty-three is a charming woman) We do the worrying for you. CALISANDRA

I couldn't just sit, sit, sit all day in a Home. When there's nothing to do, it's no wonder people lose their minds. MR. BERG

There is plenty to do. (He laughs his irritating little laugh.) We have craft classes, you know, for all who are able to attend. You can learn to make leather items, or paint pictures, or knit. There is much a person can do. CALISANDRA

What does a person do with everything? MR. BERG

(puzzled) Do with everything? CALISANDRA

Yes, when you have knitted all the sweaters you can use or painted all the pictures and made all the leather purses you'll need, what do you do then? You can only use so much of that stuff. MR. BERG

(smiling) Do with everything? Why, when you are living outside of the 23

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK Home and you knit all the sweaters you can use . . then —what do you do? You quit knitting, don't you? Now then, when you are a guest in a home, you use the same judgment. You quit knitting. CALISANDRA

Then what do you do? MR. BERG

(becoming annoyed . . and showing it) Do? You find something to do. CALISANDRA

Like I said . . I'm too young yet. MR. BERG

We feel that is a matter of personal choice. However . . (impressively) however, it sometimes happens when the time comes that a person changes his mind and wants to come in, the Home is filled with guests and sadly enough that person must be turned away. RUFFIE SUE Yes, well tell me, Mr. Berg, is one allowed to bring one's hobbies to the Home? MR. BERG

(all smiles again) Oh yes, we welcome hobbies. They give the guests something to do. RUFFIE SUE

As Calisandra says, she isn't coming to the Home for many years yet — as you know she is far too young — but when she does come, she will want to bring her hobby. MR. BERG

Surely, surely she can bring her hobby, (turning to Calisandra) Would you mind telling me what it is . . I'm sure it will be most interesting. RUFFIE SUE Calisandra has been interested in her hobby since she became old enough to read . . about seven, I would say . . weren't you, Calisandra? . . when you learned to read? Calisandra (turning to Mr. Berg) was sick a good deal of the time and was rather slow to learn. The rest of us found it easy enough. It was just Calisandra, you know, who was slow. But as I was saying, Calisandra cannot part with her hobby. Get the books, Calisandra, and show him. MR. BERG

Books? Reading is a fine hobby, of course, but you get the same thing practically watching TV and there is not so much clutter. But (genially) we won't mind a few books. 24

FAIR BECKONING ONE RUFFIE SUE

But these aren't that kind of books, Mr. Berg. These are very special as you will see in a minute. (Calisandra has left the room and now returns with several large scrapbooks. Mr. Berg rises to help her with them.) MR. BERG

Well, well, I must say these do look like very special books. And what do we have IN these books? CALISANDRA

(looking at him impressively) Obituaries! MR. BERG

(taken aback) Obituaries! RUFFIE SUE

Yes, from the time Calisandra was . . seven . . did I say . . she has collected obituaries. When anyone Calisandra knows dies, she cuts the obituary out of the newspaper and pastes it in her scrapbook. No one, no one Calisandra ever knew died but she got the obituary, somehow, and pasted it in her book. Richard and I just now brought some of our local hometown papers for her to look through. Carl Christenson died last week and although Calisandra didn't know him, she knew his mother-in-law, which is the same thing really and she set her heart on having his obituary. We brought several papers for her to look through. MR. BERG

(slowly and thinking deeply) I see. This is quite an unusual hobby. I couldn't really say if all hobbies are welcome at the Home. This one . . (pauses to think) this one . . you can see . . in a place like the Home . . there are so many old folk . . let's put it plainly, should we . . (has evidently made up his mind) the life expectancy in the Home is not too long and a hobby such as this could easily depress our other guests. They may not like it. CALISANDRA

(surprised) Not like it? (opening one of the books and reading at random) . . listen to this . . "Death, that good angel, came to relieve the sufferings of a kind and gentle mother last Thursday. As she said farewell to this vale of tears her only concern was for the welfare of her weeping and soon to be motherless children." Why shouldn't they like that . . (looking at Mr. Berg) It's beautiful and . . sad. MR. BERG

Yes, that is why I don't know if a hobby like this would be appreciated. It is sad. 25

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK RICHARD

(coming to life) I thought you said the guests were happy. MR. BERG

They are. As happy as they can be . . considering. CALISANDRA

We won't have to worry about if they like it or not. I'm not going yet. (Honey Clare is heard to moan and call for Calisandra.) There she is again. I tell you, I don't get a minute's rest. I am tired out. RICHARD

Go see what she wants, Calisandra. CALISANDRA

(picking up her books) I'll put these away first. RICHARD

(pleadingly) Ruffie Sue, you go see what she wants. RUFFIE SUE

(protestingly) But Richard, she threw the cup at me! (She smiles fondly at Richard.) I'll go if you think I should. (She goes into the bedroom. Honey Clare's voice is heard in protest and anger. Ruffie Sue comes out of the bedroom.) She wants you, Calisandra. She wants to ask you something. She says it's business. CALISANDRA

(entering from the kitchen, where she has left her books) NOW what does she want? You can see it's nothing but do this, do that, come here, go there all the day long. She is never satisfied to be quiet. (She goes into Honey Clare's room.) RICHARD (to Mr. Berg) You haven't told us yet how much it is going to cost Honey Clare to live at the Home. MR. BERG

May we fill out the form for our file first? Then we can comfortably discuss your sister's coming to us. We like to say "There's no place like Home." (hearty laughter by Mr. Berg only) CALISANDRA

(returning from Honey Clare's bedroom) Honey Clare ain't rich by any means. She has to make her pension pay for her clothes and medicine and doctor bills besides her stay in the Home. She wants to know right now how much it is going to cost her to stay at the Home; she says she don't give a do if it's by the month or by the night. MR. BERG

Then . . to put it right on the line for you we charge eight dollars a night

26

FAIR BECKONING ONE when a guest is bedridden as your sister is. We feel this is a very fair price and I'm sure you will agree. RICHARD

Go tell her how much he wants, Calisandra. Make sure she understands. Tell her she can get someone to come in and help her here every day for eight dollars and she will be able to stay here, in this house. CALISANDRA

(heatedly) I ain't going to tell her any such thing, Richard. Honey Clare is bad-tempered when she's feeling well; how will she act when she's sick? No, no, Richard, I won't tell her that. MR. BERG

(concerned) My dear sir . . you are forgetting the expense involved in having someone in. There is the food . . the extra laundry . . the . . sundries . . shall we say. It will all add up to more than eight dollars I assure you. RICHARD

Tell her what I said, Calisandra. (Calisandra goes into the bedroom. Richard turns directly to Mr. Berg.) Calisandra and Honey Clare have lived together for thirty-seven years. It is right they should keep on living together. MR. BERG

I'm sure your sisters will both be happy at the Home. CALISANDRA

(re-entering the living room) She wants to go to the Home, Richard. (turning to Mr. Berg) And she wants to know when she can come. (Richard turns away.) MR. BERG If your sister wants to come, we can send an ambulance for her at three o'clock today. It so happens we have an immediate vacancy. (Mr. Berg, his job done, picks up his hat and briefcase and prepares to leave.) Oh yes, some member of the family can come to the Home in a day or two and sign the necessary papers. CALISANDRA

(shouting) Hear that, Honey Clare? You can go to the Home this afternoon, (noises issue from Honey Clare which only Calisandra can interpret) She says she'll be ready, (tittering) Ain't much SHE can do to get ready. MR. BERG It's understood then . . we will see you this afternoon about three o'clock. 27

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK CALISANDRA

(becoming bored) You can see me, but as I told you, I ain't coming for a while yet. Honey Clare will have to get along without me. MR. BERG

(standing at the door, ready to depart) Just a brush, a comb, and a bathrobe. All other things are furnished the bed patients. CALISANDRA

She ain't got a bathrobe. She can't get into the one I had when I was in the hospital two years ago. (She turns to Mr. Berg.) You wouldn't believe it, I was down to eighty-eight pounds. The doctors and the nurses didn't think I'd make it. They said I have a wonderful constitution. MR. BERG

(politely, but disinterestedly) My goodness! CALISANDRA

That's right. I fooled them. I expect to live a good many years yet . . and not in a home either. RICHARD

Mr. Berg is going now, Calisandra, and if you want to get Honey Clare's things ready by three o'clock you will have to get busy. CALISANDRA

It don't take long to get a brush and comb ready. RUFFIE SUE

When will we be able to come and visit Honey Clare, Mr. Berg? MR. BERG

We don't encourage visitation for the first week or so. It gives the guest the time needed to adjust. We find there is much less homesickness if we follow this rule. RICHARD

Goodbye, Mr. Berg. MR. BERG

Goodbye, ladies. Goodbye, sir. (He leaves. Calisandra hooks the screen door and locks the door after him.) CALISANDRA

Wonder why he said goodbye, ladies, goodbye, sir. RICHARD

Saves wear and tear on him. He doesn't have to remember names. RUFFIE SUE (admiringly) Richard is so wise. I never would have thought of that. 28

FAIR BECKONING ONE CALISANDRA

What are we going to do about a bathrobe? Honey Clare is so fat, we couldn't squeeze her into mine if we tried. RUFFIE SUE

We'll just put her arms through the sleeves and lay it over her. As soon as she gets to the Home they will put a hospital gown on her. I think that will do very well until we can get one for her. Curtain to disclose passage of time. Now we see Ruffie Sue is sitting in the overstuffed chair and Richard lying on the sofa with a newspaper over his face. Calisandra is prowling about the room, peering through the net curtains, first at one window, then another, then going to the door. She wanders restlessly. She shows great excitement as she finally speaks. CALISANDRA

They're here! RUFFIE SUE

(coming out of her daydream) Who, the garbage haulers, Calisandra? It's about time they came, you can't cram one more thing in that garbage can. CALISANDRA

No, no! It's THEM! {Ruffie Sue, noticing her excitement, turns up her hearing aid the better to hear.) It's the ambulance. They're here! (Richard removes the paper from his face, picks up his cane, and goes into the kitchen, shutting the door behind him.) RUFFIE SUE (tenderly) Poor Richard. He is so tenderhearted. Remember when Mama died? We didn't see Richard for two days. Papa was afraid he would miss the funeral. He just cannot stand anything sad. (Calisandra is not listening; she is busy unlocking the door and unhooking the screen door.) Calisandra . . don't you think you should tell Honey Clare they are here? Sort of prepare her, you know? CALISANDRA

I can tell her. But what sort of preparation can she do? RUFFIE SUE

Get mentally prepared, Calisandra. Maybe it will be a shock to her to find she is really and truly going away from here. CALISANDRA

(rudely) Shock nothing! Honey Clare is so mean, nothing can shock her. (She stands transfixed for a moment.) Ruffie Sue . . I just now thought of it . . I'm going to be able to live my own life now. I'm going to be able to do exactly as I please and no one . . NO ONE . . is going to say to me, "Calisandra, do this," "Don't stand about looking stupid, Cali29

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK sandra." I'll tell the laundry man what I want taken to the laundry, I can get just the things I want at the grocery store. Ruffle Sue . . did you know Honey Clare used to make lists about everything . . and everything on the list had to be in correct order? First she wrote down the soaps we needed, then meat, the paper goods we needed, then the vegetables, then fruit. Everything was so organized it even tasted organized. It's no wonder I'm so thin. I was so organized I couldn't eat. But no more . . no more . . I've been organized the last time . . for the last time. RUFFIE SUE (as noises are heard at the front door) They're at the door with the stretcher. Calisandra, go and tell her. CALISANDRA

(cheerfully) All right, I'll go and tell her. This is the last time. (She goes into Honey Clare's room. Honey Clare is heard to say something, but we do not understand the conversation. Ruffle Sue stands waiting to open the door for the stretcher bearers. Calisandra comes out of the bedroom.) She said she wants Richard to take the pictures of Grandma and Grandpa out to the farm and we have to promise her we will give Aunt Savila's picture to her daughters. She says I've got to promise. Shall I? RUFFIE SUE Promise her, Calisandra . . Promise her anything to put her mind at rest. We don't have to keep the promise, you know. She will never be back. She will never know. (They grin mischievously at each other. Calisandra goes back into the bedroom as the stretcher bearers knock at the door. Ruffie Sue opens the door; the bearers enter, -wheeling the stretcher into the room.) ATTENDANT

(cheerily; it is plain he has had proper instructions about his conduct) Now where do we find the patient? (Ruffie Sue silently motions toward Honey Clare's bedroom door. The attendants move chairs, push the desk about, and make nuisances of themselves before they finally maneuver the stretcher into Honey Clare's room. Ruffie Sue watches them, but seems to be listening to a conversation going on in Honey Clare's room. Actually, somewhere along the line she has turned down her hearing aid and cannot hear what is going on in the bedroom and is totally uninterested in the activities of the stretcher bearers. Finally the stretcher is in the bedroom and we hear the two stretcher bearers speaking in the prescribed professional sickroom voices as they lift Honey Clare onto the stretcher. It takes only a moment to do so and the stretcher is rolled back into the 30

FAIR BECKONING ONE

living room with one attendant walking alongside of it arranging a white napkin over Honey Clare's face as he walks.) Don't be nervous, ma'am. We are putting the napkin on your face so you won't breathe cold air and get sick, when we get outside. We'll take it off again as soon as we get you safely in the ambulance. (As the stretcher is rolled through the outside door we hear Honey Clare call out in a loud hoarse voice . . "I'll be back soon." The two women move to the window and watch in silence as the stretcher is loaded into the ambulance and it is heard to drive away.) RUFFIE SUE

Did you hear what she said? She said, "I'll be back soon." CALISANDRA

Yes, she'll be back soon, won't she . . one way or another. (They look at each other like two naughty children aghast at the thought that is on both their minds. The kitchen door opens and Richard walks slowly and sadly into the living room. He walks to the window, gazes out for a moment, and then without a word goes to the closet and begins to dress for outdoors.) RUFFIE SUE

(in alarm) Where are you going, Richard? RICHARD

I'm going to see Honey Clare. CALISANDRA

(in a scolding voice) Didn't you hear what Mr. Berg said? He said no company for at least one week. He said it was best for the patient. RICHARD (stubbornly) I'm going to see Honey Clare and Mr. Berg won't stop me. (starts out of the door, but stops to say) Ruffie Sue, I'll bring your suitcase in. (He opens the door, which the women have forgotten to lock after Honey Clare was taken away.) RUFFIE SUE Poor Richard, he takes it so hard. CALISANDRA

(again struck with thought) You know something, Ruffie Sue? (The door is heard to open; Richard puts the suitcase in the closet; the door closes. Calisandra rushes to the door to hook the screen and lock the door. We hear the car drive away as Richard leaves. Calisandra turns back to Ruffie Sue.) You know something? I'm free. I can do just as I please. Nobody . . nobody is going to tell me what I have to do, never again. (She raises her arms high in the air.) Oh, I'm going to have such a good tune. 31

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK RUFFIE SUE

(echoing Calisandra) Such a good time. CALISANDRA

(checking the door to make sure it is locked) I'm hungry, aren't you? We can eat any time we feel like it. Honey Clare would stop me if she knew. She doesn't know, though. You know, Ruffie Sue, I do believe I have waited for this for years and years and I didn't realize it. I'm going to be so different. I'm going to be me . . really me. RUFFIE SUE (yawning delicately behind her handkerchief) I'm going to bed early tonight, Calisandra. You had better do so, too. It's been a long day and you must be tired. Aren't you tired, Calisandra? CALISANDRA

Richard put your suitcase in the closet. He won't be back tonight and no one else ever comes. Let's fix everything up for the night and then we can eat our supper . . and if we lie down for a nap, it won't make one bit of difference if we decide to stay in bed until morning. (They get busy, Calisandra, after again checking the screen door and the door, hangs a blanket over the door, carefully covering the cracks, while Ruffie Sue draws the living room drapes and hangs sheets over the window to make sure no one can see into the room. They go about and unplug the radio, the TV, and the lamps, leaving the room in darkness. They leave the room and the sound of dishes being used is heard in the kitchen as the curtain jails.) END OF ACT ONE

ACT TWO Two weeks later. The room is exactly as before. Richard is lying on the sofa with a paper over his face. Ruffie Sue is sitting in the overstuffed chair contemplating her rocker. Calisandra is wandering about the room. She pauses in front of the pictures of the grandmother and grandfather and stands gazing at them as she speaks. CALISANDRA

I can't rest. It seems like Honey Clare has to be in her room. I've been in there at least one hundred times since she left. I think I hear her calling out that she wants something. RUFFIE SUE

Sit down, Calisandra. Sit down. It will take you a while to get used to 32

FAIR BECKONING ONE Honey Clare not being there. Rest. Richard comes in from the farm almost every day to see us. That should be enough. Why don't you sit down and relax? (Calisandra continues to roam about the room.) I think I will go and talk with Richard. (She rises and -walks to the sofa, draws up a straight chair, and sits down.) Richard, I thought I would talk to you. (Richard removes the paper from his face and looks at Ruffie Sue.) Richard . . I want to ask you this . . do you think Honey Clare is happy? RICHARD Honey Clare is hi the Home of Sweet Rest. How can she help but be happy? Didn't Mr. Berg say she would be? RUFFIE SUE Richard, I've been thinking about you, too. You should leave the farm and come and live with Calisandra and I. It would be so nice for all three of us. Do come, Richard. RICHARD

Ruffie Sue, I lived alone for many, many years. I lived alone before you married Daneen and for all the years you were married to him. I got along all right then and I plan to keep on getting along all right alone. RUFFIE SUE (protestingly) But you were young then, Richard. We are getting older now and we must begin worrying about each other. CALISANDRA

(not wanting to be left out of the conversation) You weren't so young when you married Daneen, Ruffie Sue. Nearly forty . . weren't you? The only one of us to get married! Whatever made you do it, Ruffle Sue? What ailed you anyway? RUFFIE SUE (slightly annoyed) What ailed me, Calisandra? That's no way to talk. Why do people get married? CALISANDRA

(seeing she has irked Ruffie Sue) I asked you first, Ruffle Sue. What ailed you? Off to California, away from all of us. We only saw you once in twenty-eight years and that was when we came out to Daneen's funeral, (complainingly) The only time I had a chance to travel and then we couldn't have a good time because we were supposed to be mourning Daneen. But Ruffie Sue (solemnly), I can say with perfect truth now that he's dead, I never did like that man. He was a strange one. I don't think you could trust him. RUFFIE SUE

Of course, you could trust him. Didn't I trust him for twenty-eight years? 33

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK I felt very badly when Daneen died. I liked California. The weather was so calm and the temperature so even. I hated to leave. RICHARD Then you know how I would hate to leave the farm, Ruffie Sue. I'm not leaving that farm until there is absolutely no alternative. RUFFIE SUE

Yes, you like the farm, Richard. You can come in every day to see if we need anything. (An idea comes to her.) Well, Richard . . I just now had an idea . . we will come and live on the farm with you in summer and you shall come to us in town for the winter months. Richard, wouldn't that be fine? RICHARD

Only two bedrooms in the house, Ruffie Sue. One bedroom wouldn't accommodate you and Calisandra. We'll leave things as they are, Ruffie Sue. I'm satisfied. CALISANDRA

Ruffie Sue, don't you go and promise me out to the farm. This is MY HOUSE (stamps her foot) and I'll live in it. RUFFIE SUE (shocked) YOUR HOUSE, Calisandra? It's in your name but you know it is MY house. My money paid for it. Calisandra (excitedly), how can you say it's your house? You remember when I went west with Daneen, Honey Clare said I should leave the deed of the house with her, so if anything happened to me while I was gone, you would have a roof over your head? The minute I was on that train and Honey Clare knew for sure I was on my way to California, Honey Clare had the house deed registered in your name. She wrote and said it didn't mean a thing; the house was still mine. Now you say it's your house. Richard, you must take me to a lawyer . . I want my house back. CALISANDRA

(amazed at the storm she has created) Of course, it's your house, Ruffie Sue. It isn't your fault Honey Clare had the house registered in my name. But there it is, you know. And I'm so used to saying and thinking "my house," it just slipped out. It is your house. RUFFIE SUE

(frightened and near to tears) Honey Clare is mean. She's tricky. RICHARD Honey Clare can't answer back since she's not here. She thought she was doing the best thing. She knew that if Daneen was sly, he would wheedle the house out of you. She was protecting you as well as Calisandra. Honey 34

FAIR BECKONING ONE Clare didn't find it easy to come back from the city and a good job to make a home for Calisandra. But she saw her duty and she did it. She always said the time she spent in the city was the happiest time of her life. CALISANDRA

Honey Clare was never happy, Richard. Never happy, that is, unless she had her own way . . (struck with a sudden thought) well, then, she was too happy. She had her way with me for all these years. It was "Calisandra, do this," "Calisandra, don't stand with your mouth open — it makes you look stupid," "Pick up the mess you've made . . a place for everything and everything in its place," "Calisandra, you can't even call the laundry and have them pick up the sheets unless I tell you what to say." You talk about duty, Richard. Was it my duty to obey her all this time? Was I never to have a life of my own? Answer me, Richard. RICHARD

You know Mother always said you were slow to learn. She worried about you when she was in her last illness. She made Honey Clare promise to look after you. She knew you wouldn't know how to look after yourself. Maybe it was because you were sick so much when you were little. She excused you because you were sick but she did say you were slow to learn. Honey Clare knew what you needed. She was good to you in her way. RUFFIE SUE (uneasy and wanting to change the subject) Calisandra, let's invite company over, shall we? We haven't had company since Honey Clare went to the Home. Let's ask Aunt Savila's girls over and give them the picture of their mother. I always did admire that picture. Aunt Savila had such beautiful hair. Call them on the telephone, Calisandra . . do. Call and tell them to come. Do it right away. CALISANDRA

(wavering) I'm not sure I should call them up. Honey Clare and I lived in this same town with them for years and years and we never had one thing to do with each other. Never even exchanged Christmas cards. I don't think Honey Clare would like me to telephone them. And when it comes right down to it . . she did most of the telephoning, you know. She said nobody could make head or tail of my telephoning. RUFFIE SUE (coaxingly) Go ahead and call, Calisandra. You do just fine, doesn't she, Richard? RICHARD

(unmoved) I've never heard Calisandra use the telephone. 35

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK CALISANDRA

(going to the desk and trying not to show she is pleased) If you really want me to, I suppose I can call them up. It will be a nice change to see someone besides you. (Calisandra picks up the phone, puts it down, smiles apologetically, and picks up the telephone book; she runs her finger up and down the pages, looking for a telephone number. She finds it hopeless and looks to Ruffle Sue.) Maybe you should look up the number for me, Ruffle Sue. I'm not used to doing it, you know. (Ruffie Sue comes up to the desk, adjusts her glasses, and picks up the book.) RUFFIE SUE

Whose name is the telephone in, Calisandra? CALISANDRA

(puzzled) I don't know, Ruffie Sue. Whose name should it be in? RUFFIE SUE

You must know whose name the telephone is in. Otherwise we can't call them. CALISANDRA

(her face clearing) Well, look under J . . Johnson. Then you'll find the number. RUFFIE SUE

(leafing through the book) There are pages and pages of Johnsons. RICHARD

Call the telephone company and ask them. CALISANDRA

What shall I ask them? RICHARD

(trying to be patient) Call the telephone company's office and ask them if they can tell you whose name the telephone is in . . Ruby, Carrie, or Mary Johnson. And then ask them to call the number for you. CALISANDRA

(shocked) Oh, I couldn't do that! RICHARD

Why? CALISANDRA

It will look as if I don't know my own cousins' telephone number. RICHARD

Do you? CALISANDRA

No. 36

FAIR BECKONING ONE RICHARD

Then call the telephone company and ask them what I told you to ask them. RUFFIE SUE Go right ahead, Calisandra. Richard is right. I will find a pencil and write the number down, so we'll not have to bother the telephone company again. (She opens the desk drawer and searches for a pencil.) CALISANDRA

(doubtfully) I suppose it will be all right. (She dials and spells the word o-p-e-r-a-t-o-r as she dials.) Hello. Is this the telephone office? (being assured it was) I want to call my cousins', the Johnson girls, you know, and ask them to come over but I don't know their telephone number. (She listens a moment.) Honey Clare, that's my sister that went to the Home of Sweet Rest a couple of weeks ago, she wants the girls to have a picture of their mother that we have here, but we don't know their number, so we can't call them. We want them to come and get it today. I thought maybe you could help us out, being as you work for the telephone company. (She finds it hard going, getting more and more involved.) What did you say? What number am I calling from? Seven-one-four. There is too such a number. It's printed right on the front of our house over the door. I see it every blessed time I come into this house. I got it memorized. Oh . . the telephone number . . why didn't you say telephone? Ruffle Sue . . what is our telephone number? Now hang on, miss, until we find it, don't go away. I don't want the trouble of having to try to get you again. Honey Clare always said she didn't know what you girls did in the telephone office it took you so long to answer when she called. The number is right on the telephone, you say. Read it out good and loud to me, Ruffie Sue, I can't see it very well myself. Anyway, why do you need MY telephone number to call the Johnson girls? RICHARD (has been in agony for some time) Ruffie Sue, take that away from Calisandra and talk to the operator yourself. CALISANDRA

(into the phone) Hold the line a minute; my brother wants to say something. RICHARD

Calisandra, give that telephone to Ruffie Sue and let her use it. CALISANDRA

(hanging onto the phone) But I thought I was supposed to call the girls. 37

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK RUFFIE SUE

(taking the phone and adjusting her hearing aid) Never mind, Calisandra, I will do it. You need more practice, (to operator) We want to know if you have a telephone listed in Ruby, Carrie, or Mary Johnson's name and if you have, if you will call it please. (She listens a moment.) We would call them if we could but we are old folk and it is hard for us. We don't see too well and might dial the wrong number. Thank you, ma'am. (She hangs up phone, then turns to Richard.) She's going to call for us; she really is sweet, you know. (Phone rings; speaks into phone.) Hello, is this the Johnson residence? Mary? Ruby? Oh, Carrie, how nice to hear your voice. This is Ruffie Sue. (She stands listening.) You are? Well, this is what is called a coincidence, isn't it? If we'd known we could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble. We'll put the coffeepot on . . (She laughs gently.) When good Swedes get together they do want their coffee . . You know, I suppose, that Honey Clare is in the Home of Sweet Rest. You did read it in the paper? (bridling) Of course, we are not too old to take care of her, it is just that we feel . . (searches jor words) CALISANDRA

(in a hissing whisper) She will get therapy . . therapy is what you want to say. (She turns to Richard and speaks in a normal voice.) Therapy is making the patient do things for herself and then charging her for doing them. (Meanwhile Ruffie Sue looks gratefully at Calisandra as she goes on talking.) RUFFIE SUE

We felt the therapy will be good for Honey Clare. (She listens a moment.) Now don't let anything keep you away. So until we meet . . (She hangs up the phone, adjusts her hearing aid.) Carrie said they had put their coats on and were ready to come over here when the phone rang. I said if we'd known that we could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble. They just now read hi the paper the list of new guests in the Home of Sweet Rest and saw Honey Clare's name among them, so they wanted to come and call on us. (Richard rises from the sofa, picks up his cane, and goes to the coat closet.) Richard, where are you going? RICHARD Home. RUFFIE SUE

(in disappointment) Then you won't see the girls. They'll think it strange you're not here. RICHARD

If you don't say anything about it, they'll never know I was here when 38

FAIR BECKONING ONE

you called them. (He unlocks the door, unhooks the screen door, and pauses.) You are perfectly safe here until they come. No need to lock up. (He leaves. Calisandra goes to the door and hooks the screen and locks the door. Calisandra and Ruffle Sue begin a few old-age and ineffectual passes at the room. Ruffle Sue fluffs up a pillow Calisandra has already dealt with. Calisandra stoops to pick up a thread from the floor and stands rolling it aimlessly in her fingers. The room looks no different when they are through. The doorbell rings — do-re-mi Calisandra trips over a mat as she goes to the window to check on who is at the door. She then goes to the door, performs the ritual of the unlocking and unhooking, and stands to the side as three very animated, very perfumed, and very dressed up older women breeze into the room. There is a startling contrast between Calisandra in her housedress and rough hair and the three women. Ruffle Sue, however, stands at ease among them.) RUFFIE SUE

(coming forward, turning up her hearing aid) Mary, you haven't changed a bit. (They shake hands.) Hello, Carrie, it's nice to see you. And Ruby . . I hear you've quit teaching. Time must lag for you with nothing to do. (The three cousins ignore Calisandra, but gather round Ruffle Sue.) MARY Time lag! Ruby is the busiest person you ever did see. Sewing, shopping, cooking . . she doesn't have enough hours to a day. There is never enough time for Ruby. RUBY I spent forty-three years in one schoolroom . . the very same schoolroom, mind you, teaching fifth-grade children. You can't imagine the awful sameness of forty-three years in the same room. Sometimes I swear they were the same children during all the forty-three years. I got so sick of it . . you can't imagine. CALISANDRA

(eagerly) I can, Ruby, I can. I know just what you mean. I spent almost as much time in the same house with Honey Clare. You said you swear the children were always the same ones. Honey Clare always WAS the same. And it always had to be Honey Clare's way or NONE! I got so used to doing things her way I find myself thinking . . now that's not the way Honey Clare would do it . . and I do whatever I am doing all over again in her way just to please her. I know what you mean, Ruby. I'm so tired of Honey Clare. And she won't leave me alone, (embarrassed silence as the three sisters look at one another) 39

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK RUFFIE SUE

Take off your coats . . at least do sit down . . (All sit. Ruby takes off her coat, Mary fumbles with the buttons of hers, opening it, and Carrie leaves hers on, ready for instant travel.} There . . now we are comfortable. Carrie, I see you are looking at the rocking chair. It is nice to look at but not safe to sit in . . yet. Richard must buy some glue and glue it solidly together one of these days. When Calisandra and Honey Clare came to California . . they came out when Daneen died you know . . Richard couldn't get away . . just the girls came . . I decided to come back here, too. I had just gotten over my broken hip and didn't care to be alone. I said, Honey Clare, I would so much like to come back but I don't want to leave my rocking chair. I said I'd come but for the chair. You know what shipping freight costs are . . (She looks expressively at the three. All three nod.) What did Honey Clare do but take that rocking chair apart . . every bit of it . . and pack it in her biggest suitcase and we brought it home that way. I remember the look on the conductor's face as he lifted that suitcase in the luggage holder for us. Calisandra and I were so amused, but Honey Clare didn't smile. Honey Clare never is one to see a joke, you know. But here the rocking chair stands. We never have gotten it put together solidly like it should be. My one worry is that someone will sit in it and fall and perhaps break a hip. That is very painful. (Showing eagerness to discuss her broken hip, but the sisters are not beguiled into the trap.) CARRIE You should send it to a shop and have the job done the way it should be done. CALISANDRA

Honey Clare always says it's foolish to spend money on the rocking chair. She claimed only lazy people use a rocking chair, so we never sat hi it. She liked its looks, though, claimed it was an antique and worth money. RUFFIE SUE Calisandra, do you think we should have some coffee? RUBY Why bother, Ruffle Sue, let's just sit here and talk. RUFFIE SUE

We must have our coffee. I said to Calisandra (leaning back comfortably to chat) I said let's call the girls up and have them come over for coffee. But we didn't have your telephone number, you know. We had quite a time getting it, but the operator was a very nice girl and she helped us. And then you were ready to come over? Wasn't that strange? 40

FAIR BECKONING ONE CALISANDRA

Ain't it the truth? RUFFIE SUE

We never could get Calisandra to quit saying "ain't." RUBY I'm still schoolteacher enough so that "ain't" hurts my ears. RUFFIE SUE

I expect you get lonesome for teaching, Ruby. RUBY Lonesome for teaching, Ruffie Sue? I thank the good God on bended knee every night that I'm through trying to pound some knowledge into fifth-grade heads. Do you know . . fifth-graders are the very worst? For forty-three years I have spent eight hours a day, on the average, with forty children? I should be lonesome for forty tattling, uncombed, sniffynosed children? I'd be crazy to be lonesome. RUFFIE SUE

You are excited. Calisandra shall get us some coffee. We will all relax and only speak about pleasant things. (Carrie has been giving the room a good looking over while Ruby has been talking.) CARRIE Aren't those the pictures of Grandma and Grandpa that your mother used to have hanging in the parlor on the farm? CALISANDRA

That's right. Honey Clare . . one of the last things she said before they took her out of that door . . she said . . send the pictures of Grandma and Grandpa back to the farm with Richard. She made us promise we would, but I said to Ruffie Sue, we'll promise anything but we don't have to do it, because Honey Clare will never know if we did or not. She won't be back and we won't tell her we didn't send them. MARY But won't she ask Richard about them? CALISANDRA

Richard won't tell. He won't want Honey Clare to feel bad. RUFFIE SUE

We do want to send your mother's picture along with you girls. Remember when your mother looked like this? (She rises and goes back of the overstuffed chair and lifts the picture of a young woman, beautiful, with abundant curly hair, into view.) CARRIE

I always envied you that picture. You know . . I still miss Mama. They 41

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK say a person is never really dead as long as someone misses her and says the dear name. RUFFIE SUE

I'm sure that's true. Every once in a while I think of Daneen and it seems like he's right here in the room with me. CALISANDRA

I don't think you should think of Daneen and bring him into this room with us, Ruffie Sue. I never trusted him. What's the use of locking the doors all the time if you are going to bring a man into the house with your thinking? MARY You have Richard in the house, don't you? He's a man. CALISANDRA

That's different. He's our brother. MARY

Funny . . Richard never married. RUBY (reprovingly) Now, now, Mary. MARY I mean it, Ruby. It really is funny that of seven cousins only one married and that late in life. RUFFIE SUE (tartly, for her) Not that late, Mary. MARY Too late to have children, Ruffie Sue. CARRIE I don't think we should talk like this. I'm sure it must be vulgar. MARY Vulgar? No, Carrie, just facts. Facts to face. When we are gone there won't be anyone to keep us alive by speaking of us. RUFFIE SUE (comfortingly) Someone will think of us, I'm sure, Mary. I wouldn't let it worry me, if I were you. MARY

(to change the subject) Do I smell coffee? CALISANDRA

No, you don't smell coffee. I got so interested in the conversation I clean forgot about making coffee. I'll go start it now. (She goes into the kitchen.) 42

FAIR BECKONING ONE RUFFIE SUE

(cozily) I made some Jell-O yesterday. It turned out quite good. I think I will make some again. Cherry, you know. (Calisandra returns from the kitchen with a tray. She goes to the china closet, opens it, picks up a cup, wipes it out with her fingers, examines her fingers for dust, is satisfied the cups are dusty, picks up another cup and repeats the process. Ruffle Sue is alerted by Ruby's horrified stare. She rises and goes to the china closet.) Calisandra, let me get the cups. You go get the cream and sugar, will you? (She takes a towel from the drawer of the china closet and begins to wipe the cups. Mary, who has not taken off her white gloves, rubs her hand back and forth on the library table and holds it up for her sisters to see. They are properly amused by the black line of dust on the glove, but they keep a careful eye on Ruffie Sue. Finally the cups are arranged. Calisandra returns with the cream and sugar and a plate of cookies.) RUFFIE SUE I'm afraid you are letting the coffee get awfully strong, Calisandra. You know I don't like strong coffee. CALISANDRA

I poured some cold water in the pot. I figured that would weaken it and make it cool enough to drink. (Calisandra goes out and returns with the coffee pot. She fills the cups, sets the coffee pot down on a magazine on the table and goes about with the tray of cups. Ruffie Sue follows with the tray containing the sugar, cream, and cookies. All three cousins refuse the cream, sugar, and cookies.) MARY Dieting, you know. RUFFIE SUE

You girls always were a bit on the plump side, weren't you? It's supposed to be hard on the heart . . isn't it . . plumpness? Honey Clare is the only one of us who has that problem. Poor Honey Clare . . not very good-looking . . and plump, too. MARY They say cream in the coffee does something to it. CALISANDRA

It does. It makes it fit to drink. MARY

That isn't quite what I mean. It changes it, chemically, I believe, they say. RUFFIE SUE They have so many newfangled ideas nowadays. When we were young cream never changed chemically. It was sweet and it was sour and that 43

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK was that. We managed very well then too, didn't we, girls? I like cream in my coffee. (She pours cream in her cup, takes a cookie, and eats it daintily, little finger outstretched.) I wonder if I'm hearing everything. I must turn up my hearing aid . . just a bit. I've been told the best place for a hearing aid is in the bureau drawer and I'm beginning to believe it. You can't think all the trouble a hearing aid is; they really are not worth the bother, (sets down her cup and fiddles with her hearing aid) RUBY

(yawns, drinks from her cup, finds the coffee very bitter, sets down the cup, and looks at her wristwatch) Girls, isn't it about time to leave? RUFFIE SUE (speaking of her hearing aid) There now, that's much, much better. You are all so clear, I can hear you perfectly, (to Ruby) You mustn't go yet, Ruby, you just got here. Can't I give you some more coffee? (Ruby hastens to lift her cup to her lips and makes a pretense of drinking.) RUBY No. No more, thank you. It's very good, but I don't believe I'll have any more, thank you. It's nearing suppertime, you know. CARRIE (rises and brushes at her coat, picks up her purse, and prepares to leave) Ruby has a meeting tonight. She shouldn't miss it. We should be going. CALISANDRA

What kind of a meeting is Ruby going to? RUBY

(irritated) It's Mary's fault I'm going to that meeting. Sometimes I wish Mary would settle down to mind her own business and leave mine alone . . but . . no . . she has her fingers in everything. Keep active, she says, you just can't retire and sit and vegetate. I wish I could. I do so long to rest my feet. CALISANDRA

I feel for you, Ruby; it was just the same way with Honey Clare. "Calisandra, do this," "Calisandra, do that," "Calisandra, have you forgotten the other," until sometimes I wished I could scream at her. I feel for you, Ruby. MARY

(defensively) It's really not the same thing at all, Calisandra. You had to be told to do this, do that. I'm reminding Ruby, that's all. CALISANDRA

That's what Honey Clare would say. Sometimes I would tell her to mind her own business. I'm trying to help you, Calisandra, she would say. 44

FAIR BECKONING ONE RUFFIE SUE

Honey Clare will be sorry she wasn't home when she hears you were to visit us. Honey Clare and Calisandra and you girls lived in this same town so many, many years and yet you never got together. RUBY When all three of us worked, Ruffie Sue, we didn't have much time to visit anybody. CALISANDRA

Honey Clare always said it was too expensive to hire a taxi just to visit cousins. She was a great one to count pennies. MARY (sharply) That's why you are able to live as you live now. You've had a fine life, Calisandra. You don't know what it is like to go out of your snug little home and earn your bread. Honey Clare kept the roof over your head. RUFFIE SUE The house is actually mine, although when I left for California with Daneen, Honey Clare had the deed to the house registered in Calisandra's name. CARRIE (scenting gossip) How could Honey Clare do that? RUFFIE SUE

I wish I knew. I don't understand all the legal points. All I know is when I left for California with Daneen, Honey Clare said to leave the deed of the house with her, so that if I died while I was in California, Calisandra would have a home to live in. That's what she said, and the minute I was on the train and on my way, Honey Clare was at the courthouse having the deed registered in Calisandra's name. That is Honey Clare for you . . sharp . . and mean. RUBY (concerned) Aren't you going to take steps to have it changed back into your name? Surely there must be some way you can legally get your house back? RUFFIE SUE

(placidly) Oh, it doesn't matter, really, as long as Calisandra and I are living together. Calisandra knows it's my house, don't you, Calisandra? RUBY (persisting) But what if Calisandra should die, what then, Ruffie Sue? 45

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK RUFFIE SUE

(scandalized at the idea) Calisandra won't die, Ruby. She's only . . what is it, Calisandra . . seventy-four? I was eighty-three last April eighth. CALISANDRA

Twelfth, Ruffie Sue. The eighth was the day Pa died, don't you remember? RUFFIE SUE

You're right, Calisandra. You have such a good memory. CALISANDRA

The books, Ruffie Sue, I study the books. RUBY What books? CALISANDRA

What books? Wait and I'll show you. Sit down for a minute. (They sit again out of curiosity, avoiding the rocking chair. Calisandra goes into the kitchen and returns -with her books. She places them on the library table and speaks with a triumphant smile.) Obits! MARY (puzzled) Obits? CALISANDRA

Yes, that's what they call them nowadays . . obits. RUBY Do you mean to tell me those scrapbooks are full of . . obits? CALISANDRA

Surprised, aren't you? (impressively) In these books I've got the obit of everyone I ever knew that died. MARY Really, Calisandra . . (halfway between laughing and being horrified) CALISANDRA

Really. Want to see the first one? It was . . (She opens one of the scrapbooks. ) Here it is . . it says . . "Dear Dove of the Pentos soars to heavenly home . . (reads aloud) Shocked and saddened by the visit of the grim angel of death Mr. and Mrs. Pento bowed to the will of the Heavenly Father and laid their little daughter to rest" . . That's the way it goes. Remember little Millie Pento? Horse kicked her, right in the head. That was the first time I ever did see a dead person . . she looked so natural . . I can see her yet. I made up my mind I was going to remember all about it. And when the paper came out I asked Ma if I could have the obit and I've been saving them ever since . . kind of a hobby with me, you might say.

46

FAIR BECKONING ONE RUFFIE SUE

All of us help Calisandra with her collection. MARY

Have you got Mother's, Calisandra? I'd like to see it again. CALISANDRA

Didn't you save it yourself, Mary? What kind of a woman are you? RUFFIE SUE

(checking the books) Which book do you think it's in, Calisandra? CALISANDRA

I would say in book four, this one, toward the end, I think. I think Aunt Savila died in nineteen eight. RUBY Was it in nineteen eight that Mother died? So long ago? MARY Yes, Ruby, I remember you were eight or nine years old when Mother died. It must have been soon after she had the picture taken. CARRIE Oh yes, the picture. (She goes to the overstuffed chair and lifts up the picture.) CALISANDRA

Funny you girls haven't got one of your own. MARY

When Papa married again, somehow or other we lost the picture of Mama. Papa's wife packed some things away and we never did find them. CALISANDRA

(looking at the picture) Can't say as I blame her. She couldn't hold a candle to Aunt Savila in looks. RUBY (suddenly impatient) COME ON, girls. We're late. We'll come again and look at the obits, Calisandra. (The three prepare to go, Carrie gingerly holding the picture as far from her as possible, because of the dust.) MARY

Now you girls must come and see us. We'll be looking for you. RUFFIE SUE

We'll come and gladly . . and if you get the chance to go and see Honey Clare at the Home of Sweet Rest, you must do so. CALISANDRA

(with satisfaction) She'll be mad when she finds out you waited until she was gone before you came over. 47

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK MARY

That isn't the reason we didn't come, Calisandra. It's just that we've been so busy. CALISANDRA

(laughs) Busy for thirty-seven years? RUFFIE SUE

It was kind of you to wait until I was here. Just think . . if I'd been on the farm with Richard I would have missed your visit. RUBY

Girls . . for the last time . . come along or walk home. Ruffie Sue, you and Calisandra must come soon and spend a whole day with us. Calisandra shall bring the . . obits . . and we will read some of them. We can't wait to read Mama's now, Calisandra, we must fly. But when you come over we will talk about the dear, dear dead. CALISANDRA

Some weren't so dear. I've kept them all, though. I even got . . (leans forward toward Ruby) I've even got the one about Reeve Morris . . the murderer, you know. MARY

(in mock horror) No! . . Goodbye, Ruffie Sue. Goodbye, Calisandra. Thanks for the coffee . . and the picture. Calisandra, don't live so much in the past . . with the obits . . have some fun. Get out a little and mingle. It will be much better for you. Goodbye again, Ruffie Sue. CALISANDRA

I intend to live and have some fun and mingle. I'm not too old. Last time I went to see Honey Clare at the Home, she said to me . . "Calisandra, go get your hair done, you look terrible." I'm going to, too, one of these days. I've been so busy . . bankers, lawyers, expenses. There's a lot of expense to Honey Clare being in that home. MARY Goodbye again. This time we really are going. (Carrie finally gives up and holds the picture against her coat as they file out of the door. They are heard chattering away among themselves, having already forgotten Calisandra and Ruffie Sue. Calisandra hooks the screen door, locks the door, trying it to make sure it is secure.) RUFFIE SUE

(watching them go down the walk from the window) That was a nice break hi the day, wasn't it, Calisandra? CALISANDRA

They are getting to look old. They can't hide under all that stuff on their 48

FAIR BECKONING ONE

faces, (begins to collect the cups and puts them on the tray) Did you notice how Mary looked at these cups? Her dad gave the set to Mama after Aunt Savila died. Seemed his second wife didn't so much as like to have Aunt Savila's china around. If I'd thought about it, I never would have used these cups to give them coffee. I just bet Mary will ask to have them back some day . . and will I give them to her, Ruffie Sue? No, I will not! Not after she said . . (mincing in Mary's voice) "You've had a fine life, Palisandra, you don't know what it means to go out of your snug little home and earn your bread and butter." (Taking up the tray, she hesitates a minute.) Ruffle Sue . . mean as Honey Clare is . . I miss her. RUFFIE SUE Of course, you miss her, Calisandra. Richard says she worries about you, too. Richard says she thinks you should come to the Home so she can look after you. CALISANDRA

SHE? Look after ME? She's helpless! She's in bed! I'd be the one to look after her . . and . . Ruffie Sue, as long as I have a roof over my head, I ain't going to no Home of Sweet Rest. No, sir! RUFFIE SUE (gently) As long as I have this house, you are welcome to stay in it. (urgently) It is my house, you know, Calisandra. CALISANDRA

(a pixie grin on her face) And it's in my name, Ruffie Sue. END OF ACT TWO

ACT THREE The same room, but there are two large light squares where the pictures of Grandma and Grandpa once hung. The pictures themselves are wrapped in newspapers and leaning against the wall. Calisandra is dusting the wall trying to make the light squares blend in with the rest of the wall. Ruffie Sue is sitting in the overstuffed chair reading to herself. Her lips move silently and at times she holds the paper at some distance from herself to gain a better perspective. Calisandra quits dusting and roams restlessly about the room. It is plain to be seen that she is unhappy. She picks things up, puts them down, pulls the drapes aside to look out of the window, pulls them back. She glances at Ruffie Sue, who is absorbed in her read49

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK ing and pays no attention to Calisandra. The doorbell rings. Calisandra goes back to the window to check on who it is. CALISANDRA

It's just Richard. He's late today. RUFFIE SUE

(happily) It will be nice to see Richard again. CALISANDRA

You act as if he'd been gone for years. You just saw him yesterday. RUFFIE SUE

Yes, but it's always nice to see Richard. Do let him in, Calisandra. (Calisandra goes through the unlocking, unhooking bit and Richard enters. He limps more than he did and twinges of pain often cross his face. He moves more slowly and looks weary. Otherwise he is the same Richard. He carries some local papers in his hand; he gives them to Calisandra.) RICHARD

Here you are, Calisandra. More papers. CALISANDRA

Anybody in it that we know? RICHARD

I haven't looked. I thought I'd let you go through them and then you could tell me. RUFFIE SUE

(rising and letting her papers fall to the floor) Richard, come lie on the sofa. I can tell your arthritis is worse. (Calisandra gives Ruffle Sue a sharp look, which she does not see. Calisandra goes to the overstuffed chair and picks up the papers. She folds them neatly, then walks to the desk and places them with the ones she is carrying neatly on the desk. She moves them a bit one way and another to be sure they are exactly placed. Ruffle Sue walks along with Richard to the sofa, pulls a straight chair beside the sofa and sits down, while Richard slowly and painfully places his cane beside the sofa and prepares to lie down. He is much worse off than previously. ) CALISANDRA

I'm restless. There ain't nothing to do around here. RUFFIE SUE

Why don't you get some embroidery to do during your spare time? I used to find it very soothing to embroider while I was adjusting to Daneen's death. One can work at it but occupy one's mind elsewhere, you know.

50

FAIR BECKONING ONE CALISANDRA

I haven't got any thoughts to occupy my mind. Besides, we have all the embroidery we need. RUFFIE SUE Get your books, Calisandra. You've got things to paste in your books. CALISANDRA

(pettishly) I'm losing interest in the books. I'm losing interest in the people that die nowadays. And do you know why, Ruffle Sue? It's because nobody we know dies any more. They have all died off long, long ago. RUFFIE SUE You're feeling blue and melancholy, Calisandra. (brightly) You should have your hair done. You should have it done before you visit Honey Clare again. She does get into such a rage when she sees you do not keep yourself neat and well-dressed, (urging her) You get it done, Calisandra. If Honey Clare keeps on getting angry she may have another stroke; they say anger raises your blood pressure. You wouldn't want Honey Clare to have another stroke, would you, Calisandra? You wouldn't want to be responsible for it, would you? Do get your hair done, Calisandra. CALISANDRA

I've been doing some thinking nights when I couldn't sleep. RUFFIE SUE

It helps to have your hair done. I've been through some bad times and I know. CALISANDRA

Can't you talk about anything else than my hair? I don't want to get my hair DONE! I want something to DO. RICHARD Why don't you listen to the radio . . or watch TV? RUFFIE SUE

You could go for a walk, Calisandra. A walk is always nice. CALISANDRA

(after a slight pause in which she sits idly staring before her) I believe I'll go downtown. But before I go and forget it . . Richard, don't forget to take the pictures of Grandma and Grandpa out to the farm when you go home this afternoon. RUFFIE SUE (surprised) Calisandra, I thought we were going to keep the pictures here. I thought we agreed we would just let them hang, since Honey Clare will

51

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK never know. Look at those spots on the wall. We will have to repaper if we send the pictures to the farm with Richard. CALISANDRA

Honey Clare wants those pictures to go back to the farm. We may as well satisfy her and send them along with Richard. Somehow, it don't look honest to me to promise her one thing and then do another. Call a taxi for me, will you, Ruffle Sue? Somehow I still don't seem to have the knack for using a telephone. RUFFIE SUE

Yes, I'll call a taxi for you, Calisandra. (She rises and turns to look tenderly at Richard.) You sit right there, Richard, and rest your poor leg. (She goes to the telephone and Calisandra leaves the room for her wraps. Ruffie Sue rings for the operator.) Operator, give me the taxi office. No, I don't know the number. Yes, I'll be glad to write it down for future use if you just wait until I can find a pencil. (She opens a drawer of the desk and gropes about in it as she talks to the operator. She finds the pencil and absently fiddles with her hearing aid.) Yes, I'm ready for the number. (She writes down the number.) Thank you and now will you kindly call the taxi office for me? (operator evidently gives up and makes the call, for Ruffie Sue says) Send a cab to Seven Fourteen Evergreen if you will be so kind. Thank you. (She hangs up the phone as Calisandra returns.) Shall I call the beauty operator for you, too, Calisandra? CALISANDRA

I don't think I will go to the beauty parlor today. I'm going to stop by and see Honey Clare before I go downtown and that will take all the time I can spare. RUFFIE SUE (surprised) But you were to see Honey Clare just the other day and she said not to come back until you had your hair done. She upsets you, Calisandra; you shouldn't go to see her today. CALISANDRA

I got to see Honey Clare today, (going to the mirror over the china closet and looking at herself) My hair doesn't look so bad with my hat on. RUFFIE SUE

Nobody can see if you've got hair or not, you've got the hat pulled so low on your forehead. Look, like this, Calisandra. (She goes to Calisandra and rearranges her hat and straightens her coat.) Now put your gloves on and here is your purse. (She gives Calisandra these items.) I think the taxi will be here any minute. (Calisandra goes to the window to watch for the taxi.) What are you going downtown for, Calisandra? Are you sure 52

FAIR BECKONING ONE you want to go alone? I can come with you. Richard will be all right on the sofa, won't you Richard? (Richard, lying with closed eyes, does not answer.) CALISANDRA

(uneasy) I got business to attend to. You would get tired walking about, Ruffle Sue. RUFFIE SUE

(hurt) I wouldn't get tired. I'm strong. CALISANDRA

You wouldn't like to visit Honey Clare again today. (She looks out of the window in relief.) Here's the taxi; I can't keep him waiting. Lock the door when I'm gone, Ruffle Sue; I'll ring the bell when I come back. (She unlocks the door, unhooks the screen door, and is gone. Ruffie Sue goes to the window and waves as the taxi is heard to leave. She goes back to sit beside Richard on the sofa. The lights dim and the old folks snooze to indicate the passage of time. Ruffie Sue wakens abruptly.) RUFFIE SUE Oh dear, I forgot to lock the door. RICHARD

You don't have to lock the door every time someone goes out of it. There's no reason to be scared or uneasy. RUFFIE SUE Calisandra wouldn't like it if she thought I didn't lock up after her. (She goes to the door, hooks the screen, locks the door, and stands a moment deep in thought.) Calisandra is so different lately, Richard. RICHARD Come sit down and rest, Ruffie Sue. RUFFIE SUE

She is different, Richard. RICHARD

It's because she hasn't anything to do. She hasn't got Honey Clare to help her find things to keep her busy. She misses Honey Clare. RUFFIE SUE

But, Richard, Calisandra says she's glad Honey Clare is gone. She says she hates Honey Clare. Then why should she miss her? RICHARD (slowly rising to a sitting position the better to talk) Ruffie Sue . . (thinking and trying to find the right phrase) do you think deep down hi its heart that a dog loves its master? Do you think a dog with any spunk likes to be told it HAS to obey? Nothing and no one can love when it has 53

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK to obey. It is only easy to obey when you love. Now with Calisandra . . she doesn't love Honey Clare, yet she has to obey her. The habit is too strong to break, so Calisandra is lost. Calisandra won't be happy no matter what she does. RUFFIE SUE (giving a little laugh) Richard, you look so grim. You make me shiver like a rabbit is running over my grave. RICHARD

(soberly) Maybe one is, Ruffie Sue, maybe one is. RUFFIE SUE

(laughing) No, Richard, it is Calisandra who is running over my grave. (a moment's pause) Richard . . you are as solemn and gloomy as ever Calisandra can be. I'll tell you what let's do. You shall lie back on the sofa and rest and I will make us some tea. We haven't had a good cup of tea in ever so long. We won't wait for Calisandra to come home . . but I just wonder what she wanted downtown. RICHARD Why, you practically forced her out of the house yourself. RUFFIE SUE

But it was to get her hair done, Richard. I wanted her to get her hair done, I thought it would make her feel more cheerful. Oh, well, I'll go make the tea. RICHARD Before you make the tea, Ruffie Sue, I have something to say to you. RUFFIE SUE

Just one minute, Richard. I will go and put the water on to heat and then I shall come back and listen to what you have to tell me. (Ruffie Sue goes into the kitchen and re-enters the living room almost immediately.) Now, Richard, what is it you want to say to me? RICHARD (slowly) Ruffie Sue, I'm getting older and my arthritis is crippling me more and more. I won't be driving much longer. RUFFIE SUE Then come and live with us, Richard. We should be so happy. RICHARD

No, Ruffie Sue. I shall stay where I am. I've already made arrangements for another gentleman to come and live in the house and take care of me when the time comes. It won't be too long, Ruffie Sue. RUFFIE SUE (not taking him seriously) The kettle's boiling, Richard. (She rises and 54

FAIR BECKONING ONE goes into the kitchen. We hear her humming contentedly. She calls to Richard.) I'm going to bring us some cookies, too, Richard. {She returns to the living room bearing a tray with teapot, cookies, creamer, and a sugar bowl filled with lump sugar. She puts the tray on the library table, draws two straight chairs close to the table. She smiles happily at Richard. ) Isn't this nice. Come, Richard, sit right here . . {She pats one of the chair seats invitingly. Richard rises creakily from the sofa, picks up his cane, and comes forward to sit on the chair she indicates. She seats herself on the chair nearest the table and pours a bit of tea into one of the cups, peers at it to see if it is the right strength, then fills the cup. She puts several lumps of sugar in the cup, generously creams it, and hands it to Richard.} Richard, aren't you glad you don't have diabetes? (Richard looks mystified.) If you did, you couldn't have sugar in your tea. Have some cookies, they aren't too good, but not too bad for store-bought cookies. Calisandra shall make us some when she comes home, that will keep her busy for a bit. There is no comparison between homemade and store-bought cookies. (She pours her own tea, puts several lumps of sugar and cream in it. Richard watches her indulgently.) RICHARD

Are you glad you don't have diabetes, Ruffle Sue? (They smile at each other and drink the tea.) I hear they have some sort of sweetening now to take the place of sugar. RUFFIE SUE

Oh, they have, Richard, they have. RICHARD

(smiling) How do you know so much about it? RUFFIE SUE

Did I never tell you Daneen had diabetes? He did and you know it was such a trial to him, he did so dearly love sweets. Those days if you had diabetes you simply had to give up everything sweet. RICHARD I never knew Daneen well. I was surprised when you got married, you surprised everybody. RUFFIE SUE That's a story in itself . . my marrying Daneen. Someday I'll tell you about it. (She smiles at Richard. She is very gay. One can see what a charming young woman she must have been.) RICHARD

No, no, Ruffie Sue. Keep it to yourself. You haven't said anything all these years. Best keep it to yourself. Daneen is dead now and you've been 55

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK back with us a long time. It's like it had never been. Let be, let be, I say. RUFFIE SUE (surprised) Why, Richard. There was never any mystery about my marrying Daneen, nothing good or bad about it. Daneen was lonely and . . RICHARD

(sharply for him) Ruffie Sue, keep it to yourself. I don't want to know. And anyway . . I thought I heard a car. Can Calisandra be back already? Run open the door before she rings. And tell me if she got her hair fixed after all. It needed it. RUFFIE SUE (hurrying to the door) Now, now, Richard. (Ruffie Sue goes to unlock the door. As she is unhooking the screen Calisandra rings the doorbell long and loudly. Richard flinches at the din. Calisandra steps into the house; her face is spiteful and defiant. There is also a strong air of uncertainty about her. Her hat is pulled low on her face as it was before Ruffie Sue took her in hand.) CALISANDRA

(in a rush) I've done it, Ruffie Sue. I've done it. RUFFIE SUE

(trying to calm her) Take off your hat and coat, Calisandra. Let me make some more tea. You are so excited, you have to calm down. Look what happened to Honey Clare. She had a stroke. You don't want to have a stroke, do you now, Calisandra? (She gently pushes Calisandra toward the overstuffed chair.) You just sit down, I'll have your tea hi a minute. (Calisandra sits down; Ruffie Sue picks up Calisandra's hat and coat which in her excitement she has let fall to the floor. She lays them on one of the straight chairs and goes into the kitchen. Ruffie Sue calls from the kitchen.) I'll make you some toast to eat with the tea. I believe I will make you some cinnamon toast. You should teach yourself to remain calm. I did. I taught myself not to let anything bother me. It's not half as much trouble as it is getting excited over every trifle. (Calisandra bursts into nervous laughter. Richard sits watching her intently. She stares back at him. Ruffie Sue enters with the hot tea and toast. Calisandra takes it from her. She is still laughing.) RICHARD

What is it you've done, Calisandra? RUFFIE SUE

Now, Richard, let Calisandra eat her toast. Don't excite her any more. She has been under a great strain for weeks, haven't you, Calisandra? 56

FAIR BECKONING ONE CALISANDRA

(cannot keep it to herself any longer) I told you I did it and I did it. You listen to me, Ruffie Sue. (a moment) Ruffie Sue, I'm going to the Home of Sweet Rest. RUFFIE SUE (determined to do anything to calm Calisandra) Of course, you are, Calisandra, but not until you have had many many happy years. CALISANDRA

Don't you understand, Ruffie Sue? I'm going NOW . . TODAY. I told the taxi driver to come back for me by five o'clock. I got time to pack my toothbrush and comb and then I'm going. (Ruffie Sue stands smiling vaguely at Calisandra. She has not taken in what she has been told. Both Calisandra and Richard watch Ruffie Sue, Calisandra defensively and Richard with affection and pity.) RUFFIE SUE

Richard . . RICHARD

Say it again, Calisandra, she doesn't understand you. (Richard does not appear surprised at the announcement.) CALISANDRA

(raising her voice) Ruffie Sue . . I'm going to the Home of Sweet Rest . . I'm going today . . and furthermore . . furthermore . . Ruffie Sue , . (stands up, scattering tea and toast about her) furthermore . . (in a rush of words) I've sold the house. (Ruffie Sue does not take her eyes off Calisandra. She seems bewildered and unable to realize what has been said.) RUFFIE SUE

(vaguely and in a daze) Sold the house, Calisandra? CALISANDRA

Ruffie Sue. I'VE SOLD THE HOUSE, UNDERSTAND? i SOLD THE HOUSE. RUFFIE SUE

(coming to life) Sold the house, Calisandra? You sold MY HOUSE? CALISANDRA

The house is in my name, Ruffie Sue. It's in my name. And I sold it. I sold it today. I stopped in to see Honey Clare on my way downtown. I told you I was going to. She said "Sell the house, Calisandra. Mr. Berg will give you a contract agreeing to keep you for the rest of your natural life" . . that's what she said . . "the rest of your natural life . . if you give him the money from the sale of the house!" Honey Clare said . . "It's hi your name, Calisandra, you can do what you like with it." She said . .

57

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK "Ruffie Sue can't prove it isn't your house . . and it's your money when you sell it. "She said, "Sell the house . . and come." RUFFIE SUE (unbelievingly) But it's my house, Calisandra, you and Honey Clare both know it's my house. CALISANDRA

I figure it this way, Ruffie Sue. You owe me this house. Didn't you get married and go to California? Didn't you leave me here alone with Honey Clare? Didn't I take all the mean nature and the bossing and the bad temper from Honey Clare, while you were sitting in the sun in California with a husband and home? I earned this house. I paid for it with years of nagging and browbeating. RUFFIE SUE Tell her she shan't do this, Richard. Tell Calisandra not to do this. CALISANDRA

(angry and yet feeling guilty) DON'T tell ME I shan't do it, Ruffie Sue. I did it. I sold the house and tonight I'm going to the Home of Sweet Rest. Mr. Berg said he had room for me and Honey Clare said come. RUFFIE SUE But I thought you hated Honey Clare. CALISANDRA

I do, Ruffie Sue, I do hate her. But I've got to go to her. I don't know how to get along without her. For years and years hasn't she told me what dress to buy, when to go to the dentist, what I should eat, and when I should go to bed? I can't get along without her, Ruffie Sue . . look at me . . Ruffie Sue . . (urgently) Look at me! I'm Honey Clare's echo. For thirty-seven years I've been an echo of Honey Clare. That's what I am. (The thought strikes her.) Yes, it's too late to be me. I'm her echo, I've got to go to her. RUFFIE SUE (begging pitifully) Don't go, Calisandra. Don't go to the Home. What will Richard and I do? Richard is getting so crippled with arthritis he will soon be housebound. He will soon need us to care for him. Stay with us, Calisandra. We will be so happy. CALISANDRA

Nurse Richard? Didn't I just now tell you I spent thirty-seven years knuckling under to Honey Clare and now I should nurse Richard! RUFFIE SUE Honey Clare is mean, Calisandra. You know she's mean. And we can be so happy here without her. 58

FAIR BECKONING ONE CALISANDRA

But she's here, Ruffie Sue. She's with me everywhere I go in this blessed house. She says, "Pick up the papers, Calisandra, you know better than to leave them lie about." She says, "Wind the clock, Calisandra, it's Monday night and you always wind the clock on Monday night." She says, "Eat the crust, Calisandra, we can't afford to live so high and mighty that we don't eat crusts." She's everywhere, Ruffie Sue. She's in my bed, hi the bathroom, at the telephone . . she's in ME. (She raises her arms despairingly.) I'm her echo . . I'm her echo . . I'm her echo. (She -whispers at last in a sighing tone.) RUFFIE SUE

(still not giving up) Stay, Calisandra. Richard shall take us for a drive every day. We'll go to the cemetery, you know you dearly love to go to the cemetery. Who will take you for a drive at the Home? No one. You will spend every day and every night taking care of Honey Clare. Will you share a room with Honey Clare for years and years? Can you bear to share that room? Don't go, Calisandra. (She lays her hand on Calisandra's arm.) Don't go. CALISANDRA

(softly and as if she is listening to someone no one else can hear) But she calls me, Ruffie Sue. She won't let me stay with you. She says . . "I can't look after you when you're so far away . . come, Calisandra . . come." Remember what it says in Aunt Savila's obit . . the poem about her . . it goes like this . . Fair beckoning one, oh beckon to me For it's at thy side, I would fain ever be. Remember the poem . . well, that's Honey Clare . . she beckons to me and I've got to go. RUFFIE SUE (still trying to entice Calisandra to stay) The books. Calisandra, what will you do with the books? They won't let you keep them at the Home . . remember Mr. Berg . . how cold he was to the idea? And who will help you paste the obits in them? Stay, Calisandra, and Richard and I shall help you with the books. You've gotten so far behind with them. Richard shall cut the obits out of the newspapers and you and I shall paste them in the books. CALISANDRA

It's no use, Ruffie Sue. I've got to go. (The doorbell rings. In the excitement no one has heard the taxi drive up.) That must be the taxi driver now. I have to go. (She rushes into her room, comes out stuffing her comb 59

SARAH MONSON KOEBNICK and toothbrush into a paper bag. She puts one arm in the sleeve of her coat and with the coat dragging behind her, she goes to the door, unlocks it, unhooks the screen, and turns back.) I forgot . . I told the real estate agent to give you a month to get out of the house. (She starts to leave and turns back once more.) The cups, Ruffie Sue. Be sure to give Mary the cups. (She is gone. Ruffie Sue stands unbelieving and as if turned to stone. Richard rises at last and limps over and shuts the door. Ruffie Sue turns slowly to Richard.) RUFFIE SUE

She's gone, Richard. She went to Honey Clare. She sold my house and left. (Richard gazes silently at her.) Whatever can I do now, Richard, whatever can I do? (Richard does not say a word; he simply looks at her with a message in his eyes. At first she does not understand him, but it finally dawns on her that he is telling her the Home of Sweet Rest must be her refuge too. She puts her hands out to him in an appealing motion.) No, Richard, not the Home. (Richard looks to the floor, resting both hands on his cane. Stricken and unbelieving, Ruffie Sue again says) Not the Home, Richard, oh, never the Home. (He has no answer for her and finding all failing her, she staggers unheedingly to her rocking chair and sits down in it. As she sits, it gives way and she crashes to the floor. She lies motionless, without a sound. And as we watch we see Richard change from a comfort-loving, responsibility-eluding, pampered brother into a stricken, frightened old man.) THE END

60

Fair Beckoning One by Sarah Monson Koebnick opened on May 24,1967, at the University of Minnesota Theatre, Minneapolis. It was directed by Arne R. Meier. Cast of Characters HONEY CLARE CALISANDRA RUFFIE SUE RICHARD MR. BERG MARY CARRIE RUBY ATTENDANTS

Barbara Dodds Teresa Campbell Barbara Edwards James Jorgensen Michael Puff al Brian Ann Zoccola Linda Enochsen Barbara Berg James Talley Delivin Van Sickle

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FREDERICK GAINES

The New Chautauqua PLAYS WITHOUT PLAYWRIGHT

PLAYWRIGHT'S NOTE The New Chautauqua was written primarily for use by the AnyPlace Theatre of Minneapolis-St. Paul. It was written with the particular demands and assets of that company in mind. The company demanded plays that were both flexible and transportable into the streets of the Twin Cities. Its assets included a broad background of experience in dance, mime, theatre, and music. The playlets are intended as material for the actor, dancer, mime, and musician. The normal performance of The New Chautauqua will include only a fraction of the total material printed here. The director and actors are to select each night the material that is most pertinent to the place and the occasion. The playlets fall into six broad categories: Prologue, Fairy Tales and Parables, Kings and Queens, Men and Man, Gods and Pretense, Epilogue and Admonition. There is no fixed order

to the playlets. I have grouped them, but they are grouped for convenience, not for dictating the progress of an evening's performance. As here published, the playlets are grouped into four possible playing orders. The category of each playlet is indicated, along with an identifying "title." Because the players are expected to do a great deal of shaping and rewriting, the playlets have been deliberately left as scenarios. I would expect that if different actors within the company were to perform the same dialogue on different nights, it would sound and look quite different to those in the audience. Also, I've made no attempt to provide music for any of the lyrics or for the transitions between plays. The company may fit the music to the occasion, judging itself which song would best bridge the distance between the scenes. I have provided only one prologue for the entire piece. It's my belief that the material for the prologue should be largely musical and improvised with the audience. I have used the one name, Chautauqua, throughout. The name implies more than a particular actor: it is a function. The Chautauqua is the actor closest to the audience's sympathies. It is a function that passes from one actor to another. It is represented to the audience by a particular property, which therefore should be large and easily recognizable.

THE NEW

CHAUTAUQUA

Prologue The play will begin with a musical number. When it is done, the company selects the actor to play Chautauqua. He puts on the hat or necklace which is Chautauqua's, starts his walk across the stage, stops, listens, turns to the audience. CHAUTAUQUA

Who? You? Nah. Not for you. For me. Sure. Me. For Chautauqua. That's me. (An actor behind him whispers his real name.) Whadda ya mean? Chautauqua! Nobody else: Chautauqua. Here, see this hat? This hat says I'm Chautauqua, the new Chautauqua, the new child. What's he know, huh? (walking up to him) What do you know, huh? (The actor smiles, says nothing.) There, you see. (Starts away and again his name in life is whispered.) What'd he say? (waits to see if the audience will tell him) Right: Chautauqua. The clown. The in-between, all-around, Mister Everything. But for you, the name is . . (Whispers his real name and the entire cast calls out: "Chautauqua!") Who? (They repeat it; then he turns and points to each of them and they call out their names in turn.) And when I wear this, I'm Chautauqua. People of this city (the name of the city in which the play is being performed may be supplied here): the New Chautauqua comes to town. © 1969 by Frederick Gaines. Address inquiries concerning performing or translation rights to Ellen Neuwald, Bohan-Neuwald Agency, Inc., 27 West 96th Street, New York, New York 10025.

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Play One FAIRY TALES AND PARABLES: THE COMET A scene for an actor, two mimes, and the musician. ACTOR

There are comets that come to this world, high, dazzling balls of flame that hurtle across the sky and wonder at this small, silent, clouded ball of green that lies so far below. Such a comet came one year, long ago. It had a name. I've forgotten it now, but it came and for seven nights, it screamed silently past the face of the milky way, yellow and orange against the night. (The musician begins to play the song of the comet.) From the windows of the castles, kings watched and wondered and were afraid of a power greater than theirs. The merchants watched, for a moment, then went back to their bolts of cloth and carrots and iron and making money. The poor watched it . . Some were saddened . . another thing they could not buy . . some were happy, called it a freed star, cut off and away from the world that had bound it. Some of them hid from it, believed it an omen, evil coming. One mother, tired, bent, her knuckles creased with dirt, feared it. It meant that her boy, the one there . . (here the two mimes begin to show us the scene of mother and son) playing with his soap and his pipe, it meant that it would take his life within the year and that in the years to come there would be no son, no one to feed her, care for her. He laughed . . comet fear was a lie to him. It was golden streaking across the black, no more. He hadn't had to explain to himself the wrong deaths, the wrong plenties, and he was simple, stupid. He ran out into the garden with his clay pipe and his soap and he watched that great burning star racing in its circle and at it, and at all the powers that his mother feared, he blew his pipe and the bubbles drifted up, away, into the air and the night skies filled with them, each shining, demanding notice, and the boy said: I shall outlive you all. (The mime stops.) He didn't die. He lived. Many years. He lived for the same reasons men die and he prospered and he covered his mother in silks . . but she dreamed . . dreamed of the nights, remembered them filled with soap bubbles, each catching the angry brand of the comet. And his mother died, covered in silks, alone. The boy, a man now, forgot the comet and the night he had seen it and the night he dared to soap its face with his pipe. He forgot. And he grew rich . . richer, and that comforted him for all he had forgotten. The color of his eyes that had held the soft memories of afternoons faded, but his wealth consoled him and he bought glasses and he saw again, almost. His monies made him 66

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA powerful, made him sour inside, and then bought him doctors and medicines and together they kept him alive, long, long past the time when he should have stopped living. Then, one day, the comet returned. They had been predicting it from the universities and the man began to remember . . yes . . the comet (pause) The town was covered in cloud from steeple top to well bottom on the night the comet arrived. It was there, burning its hours in the darkness, preparing to leave this earth for another of its eighty-year absences, for another life for that old man and that old man wanted that. Hardly alive, cancerous, jealous of his breath, of the heart that moved the blood within him, the old man ordered his planes into the skies. Seed them! Let it rain! Let it be dark for seven days and seven nights! I am not ready to die! (pause) And the town was covered with cloud. Alone, in its icy room, the comet spun out its brilliant tail, spread gold across the heavens, and no one saw it. Lovers who hoped to be wed by its light waited. Children who hoped to wish on it for luck, for fortune, for long life . . they waited. All. All but the old man, who could not admit that it, the comet, had come to claim him. If he could not see it, it wasn't there and if it wasn't there, he would live. Heavy. Oppressive, the dark clouds sat on the town. On the seventh night, a storm broke. Lightning. Thunder. The winds screamed and the rain drenched the land. The clouds split it . . and there it was . . the comet . . waning, cold, half-light, but the glow gilded the heavens. That circling star shone brighter than all of the stars of the heavens and the old man wept. He had forgotten its beauty. He had forgotten the boy who had blown his laughter in God's face, who had laughed . . long ago. So much, he had forgotten, from long ago. There, above a cloud, a shining, sparkling bubble, drifting down, rainbows on its face, diamonds, down, through the clouds, he waited. He sat, like this, watching his face disappear over the dark edge of the world . . and he waited. (The actor sits and waits.) FAIRY TALES AND PARABLES: THE GREENIES A scene for three actors and a musician. The scene begins with the actor playing the greenie beginning the business of being an aphid. The human comes out with a bowl of soapy water, which is mimed. HUMAN Spring again! I hate spring cleaning. All of that cold winter dirt and the 67

FREDERICK GAINES

dust from the fall and the windows all spotted with spring rain. If it weren't for the flowers, spring wouldn't be worth having. Oh, well. Can't stop the seasons, I suppose. My rosebush is just getting ready to bloom again and needs my care. Old-country remedy: soapsuds in the spring, roses in the fall. Cleans off all of those little things, those greenies, all over the leaves. Here goes! (makes ready to dump the pail of soapy water on the rosebush) GREENIE

Wait! HUMAN

Hmmm? GREENIE

Wait! HUMAN

Who's talking to me? GREENIE

Down here. HUMAN

Oh! (peering at the greenie) Say! You're one of those little greenies, aren't you? Those . . GREENIE

Don't say it! HUMAN

Is it bad? GREENIE

I hate that word. Greenies, I don't like but I can stand. I mean, I am green, that's my color, but not that other word — please. HUMAN Well, all right, but it seems kind of silly to me. GREENIE

You call me greenie and I'll call you whitey and we'll get on just fine. HUMAN Well, I don't know . . GREENIE

It's your color, isn't it? (The human hesitates.) That's not the important thing. The important thing is what are you going to do with that pail of stuff? HUMAN

Oh, this? I'm going to . . (realizes) Oh. 68

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA GREENIE

Soapsuds in the spring and roses in the fall? Murder's what I call it. HUMAN But the rosebush . . GREENIE

Look. It's my home, okay? I'll take care of it; you take care of yours. HUMAN But you're killing it . . GREENIE

When you hear it scream, you come running, (goes back to its business) HUMAN See here, it's my rosebush and I should know what it likes and what it doesn't like; and it doesn't like a lot of . . greenies eating it. GREENIE

(studies the human) Do you really know what I am? HUMAN Of course, I do. I've read about you. GREENIE

What am I? HUMAN

A bug. GREENIE

(very even-tempered) For generations, we've been living together: you and the rosebush and us; and for generations you have assassinated one after another of my brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and grandpas, and you don't really know who it is you're killing. (The human looks confused.) I'm a cow. HUMAN A cow . . ! Oh, you're not. Come on. You don't look like any cow I've ever seen. GREENIE

You're the only judge of what a cow should look like? Ever ask a cow what a cow looks like? Like me. The ant that milks me every day's got no complaints and my kids don't holler any about the milk I hold back for them, so how come you, who's got nothing but murder on his mind, can come down on me and say, no, you're not a cow? HUMAN You're a cow. GREENIE

Next point: cows don't take baths in soap and water. 69

FREDERICK GAINES HUMAN

How else am I going to get you off of my plant? GREENIE

You aren't. HUMAN

But it's my plant! GREENIE

Says who? HUMAN

I do! I paid good money for that plant and for the pot that it's in. I say it's mine. GREENIE

You've got a great system, friend. You invent this stuff called money and say the only way you can buy anything is with this stuff, then you make sure that you're the only one who has any, and you buy up the whole world. This world was here long before your money was. HUMAN But it's a flower and you're keeping it from blooming. GREENIE

All of this for a flower? You're going to kill off a whole herd of dairy cattle just to see a pretty petal? It'll be dyed with my blood. HUMAN Oh, don't exaggerate. Yours isn't red anyway. Besides, if you don't want to die, get off. I'm giving you time to pack and leave. GREENIE

Great. You're going to knock down my house and make it into a park and you think because you give me notice that I should thank you? Now, listen here, whitey, and I'm going to lay it on you. You people live off of just about everything that grows, creeps, runs, or bears young. You shut up carrots in patches, you slaughter wheat, butcher hogs, pick trees, and smash eggs into a skillet and I'm asking: for what?! Why?! Cause you're taller, stronger, got five fingers, two legs, pink skin, and money in your pocket? I'm puttin' it to you, babe, lay off, cause one of these days, you aren't going to be the tallest, strongest, pinkest, and most; and you'll be wishing you'd looked at the shape of things a long time sooner, (pause) Still want to commit mass murder so you can look at a pretty flower? HUMAN

You're right. I concede. I give in. Tradition is overruled. I'll live by the laws of humanity . . 70

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA GREENIE

And bugs. HUMAN

. . and God. You may live. May you prosper. May your children grow to health, wealth, prosperity. Watch, bubbles, into the sky. (The human mimes blowing up into the sky bubbles -which drift across the stage. The actor who has been sitting since the last scene, reaches up, touches one, and dies.) CHAUTAUQUA

(from offstage) Well? Did you get rid of those aphids? HUMAN

Right now, sir. (dumps the pail of suds onto the greenie)

KINGS AND QUEENS: CAMELOT A scene for two actors and an actress. CHAUTAUQUA

. . and the army's in revolt, the civil service has resigned, the treasury is empty, and the cook has cooked the last potato. KING Doesn't sound good, does it? CHAUTAUQUA

Very bad, Your Excellency. We in the Privy Council . . KING

It's good to have one's loyal councillors about one . . CHAUTAUQUA

About that, Your Excellency . . KING

You too? CHAUTAUQUA

I was thinking . . the mountains are very good this time of year. KING So was I. If you're leaving, stop in and send my Queen to me. She, at least, will give me some good news. (Chautauqua bows out and goes to the Queen.) Times are bad. (The Queen enters.) Ah, my Queen! Good Queen, fair Queen, lovely, beautiful, kind, and gracious Queen. How's it with you? QUEEN My maid's run off with a deserting sergeant, the tea has been standing for twenty minutes, and there's not a drop of milk to put into it. 71

FREDERICK GAINES KING

Call the cook. QUEEN

She quit this morning. KING Ah, well, the material world, kind Queen. Ours must be the world of the spirit, of removal, of absolute, godlike authority, descending from regal heights, darting into the cold and gloom of everyday living. We must think not of today, but tomorrow. We must prepare the world for our inheritors. Tell me of the feats of our courageous children so that I may bask in their prowess. QUEEN Homer says that he won't . . KING Prince Homer, dear. QUEEN

Prince Homer says he won't come down to tea if he can't be served on a golden service and there's none to be found. KING

Have it found. QUEEN

The Royal Treasurer pawned the last of the golden service to get your royal bathtub repaired. KING What happened to the Royal Plumber? QUEEN On strike. KING

Unions and monarchy . . (shrugs) Ah, well. What's to be done? QUEEN To be done? Why, demand that the people of the realm dig more gold from the Royal Mines and that the Royal Goldsmith shape it for you. KING The Royal Mines are still filled with water from the last rain and besides, the gold's run out in them . . if there ever was any. QUEEN Nonsense. Your crown was made of native gold —the finest. Of course there is gold there. KING I bought it from a passing salesman . . and it's not gold: aluminum. 72

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA QUEEN

But certainly mine . . ! KING Copper and gilt paint. Sorry, pet, but I knew you wouldn't know the difference if they kept the paint fresh, but we've run out of that now. In a week it'll start turning green. So! There we are. QUEEN But what are we going to do, King Harold? KING Do you think you could call me Harry? QUEEN I most assuredly will not! I was married in the Royal Cathedral of our land to King Harold and I will not degrade that sacred memory. KING I've been meaning to talk to you about that. QUEEN

It wasn't a cathedral? KING Movie set. We get to church so seldom, I didn't think you'd know the difference. QUEEN In my soul, I know it was a cathedral. KING Your soul can know all it chooses to know, but Warner Brothers tore it down last month. QUEEN How dare they . . ? KING They owned it. QUEEN

But the Royal Estates! the Parks! the Esplanades! KING Gone. (She rushes to the window, all gone.) Yep, shame, isn't it? I sort of liked it too. QUEEN Your poor father. Your poor, kingly, sainted father. He'll roll in his grave. KING He went with them! QUEEN But he's dead! 73

FREDERICK GAINES KING Not so you'd notice. QUEEN

But his pictures! On all the flags, the half dollars, the postage stamps! KING Looked at a flag lately? QUEEN I'm going mad. His face, in every history book, his lineage traced through generations, the national anthem . . KING We had it written in Tin Pan Alley — cheap. QUEEN

But I know it. Every note of it. KING Give us a chorus, dearie. QUEEN (begins bravely, but forgets quickly) Camelot! Cam . . uh . . Camelot! KING What would you have done if you would have had to sing it? QUEEN I would have sung it and have been proud of it! The song of my country! KING Your country is gone. All of it. Dust. QUEEN You're trying to make me aggravated. You are, aren't you? You're annoyed because you never liked it, the sittings, the press conferences, the duties — none of it! You didn't like it! KING (Very calm, tired") It's gone, dear, all of it. QUEEN But it . . it can't be. That's all I know, all I've learned. The world can't just turn over suddenly. Everything that we worked so hard to have, it can't . . can't just be gone, (silence) Is it? (He nods.) All gone. Everything. We had it so perfect. A fairy-tale land. All gone, (pauses) But, Harry, the song . . KING

You never learned the lines. 74

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA QUEEN Lines?! Lines?! Do you think that a Queen needs words before her to speak of her love for her country? To defend its rights and freedoms?! Lines! Lines are written down after I speak them. KING (quietly) Speak them. QUEEN You ask me why I come to you? You ask me why . . (She stops, knows nothing more to say.) KING

And the cameras . . would have ground . . to a halt. QUEEN I could have played her! I could! KING Stand-ins, my dear. Why pretend? QUEEN Because I am the Queen! KING And I am King Arthur, (sings quietly) Don't let it be forgot, That once there was a spot, For happ'ly-ever-aftering . .* (stops, says simply) Camelot. (pause) I'm leaving. QUEEN

And the rest of us? KING Pretend. (Exits. Long pause. She tries to sing, her voice quavering.) QUEEN

This hour of Camelot.

MEN AND MAN: A LAZZO FOR CHAUTAUQUA CHAUTAUQUA

You hungry? Boy, I'm hungry. I'm so hungry, I could eat this chair. But I won't. Chairs give me indigestion. But I would if it wouldn't. I haven't eaten since breakfast. Oh, breakfast! So long ago. What did I have? Maybe if I remember, I won't be so hungry. Let's see . . breakfast. That's in the morning, isn't it? Oh, yeah, breakfast! First off, a glass of egg. Raw. *Copyright © 1960 by Alan J. Lerner and Frederick Loewe. Used by permission of Chappell & Co., Inc., New York.

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Salt and pepper in it. Then oatmeal with oysters. Never had that? Oh, that's good. Just slide right down. Then, main course! Pancakes and syrup and bacon and grits and toast and peaches and cream and pickle salad. You never had that either. Oh, that's good. And that's all. That's all, and that was two hours ago and I haven't eaten a thing since except a couple of Hersheys and some ice cream and some Juicy Fruit and some chewing tobacco, and I'm just starved. I'm so hungry, I could eat . . (hears a fly buzzing, follows it with his eyes and head, round and round, sees it land on his leg, grins at audience) Why not? Frogs do. (Takes a tremendous whack at the fly, slaps his leg and misses the fly, rubs his leg, looks for the fly again, sees it, follows it until it lands on his nose. He brings his hands slowly together, trapping it, cups it in his hands, holds to his ear to hear it buzz, grins, opens his hands to peek at it, it flies out, and he claps his hands on it, squashes it, looks at the remains, makes a face at the mess, scrapes it off onto his knife, lights a match, and roasts it. When it's done, he takes out his handkerchief, tucks it under his chin and gets ready to eat. Uses his knife to cut it up into tiny pieces, picks one piece up, hesitates, pops it into his mouth, tastes it tentatively, grins, chews vigorously, swallows, and, then, one by one, finishes all the pieces, ends by picking out the legs from between his teeth with the nail of his little finger. Burps, rubs his stomach, begins to get queasy, grows progressively sicker, runs to the back of the stage, mimes vomiting, returns to the audience.) Boy! Frogs are crazy. That didn't fill me up at all and I'm still so hungry I could eat . . (sees an ant on the stage, cautions audience to be quiet, and gets down on his hands and knees and follows it off) MEN AND MAN: THE KARATE CLASS A scene for two actors and an actress. CHAUTAUQUA

Only way to forget your hunger is action, right? Right. Watch this, (goes into a vivid display of his self-taught karate, making all the appropriate sounds, stops, grins at the audience) Karate. Ka-ra-te! You think you're going to catch this dude sleeping, do you? Not a chance. Just today, I've enrolled in the One Chop Karate School: guaranteed death and annihilation at your fingertips, (chops a couple of times) All in the oP wrist . . (taps his head) and up here, and I got it: both places. What they don't know is that old Chautauqua has his own brand of personal attack already mastered and I'm going to give them just about ten minutes to prove them76

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA selves my masters or chop! No more One Chop Karate School. Let's see, it's around here someplace, (looks for the number above the door, stops in front of the other two actors in the scene, who form the doorway, their backs to Chautauqua) The place. (He knocks and is answered by a huge gong, which scares Chautauqua, but he pretends that it's nothing, grins, pushes open the door, and enters boldly.) All right . . (demonstrating his method) bring 'em on, bring 'em on. (The actor playing the karate master answers from the doorpost, surprising Chautauqua.) MASTER Sir. ( Chautauqua jumps.) CHAUTAUQUA

Wha's the idea sneaking up on a guy like that? MASTER

(bowing ceremoniously) Bid you most happy welcome. (Chautauqua bows back, the master bows back, Chautauqua bows back, the master bows back, Chautauqua starts to, then stops.) CHAUTAUQUA

All right, all right! MASTER

Please to sit here, thank you. CHAUTAUQUA

Where? (The master dumps him on the spot, bows, exits.) Think you got me, don't you? Think you do? Off balance, that's all. Let 'em think they've got me controlled, understand? Then, when they're looking the other way, bam! MASTER (returns) Please to wait. One moment. CHAUTAUQUA

Sure, sure. (The master bows out again.) Part of their game. Old Oriental trick. Try to get me mad, see? Put me here and make me wait and they see if I've got the control. I've got the control. Won't rattle me. (waiting conspicuously, whistling, begins to get a little impatient) You won't rattle me. (No one answers him; he gives the audience a knowing wink, tries to wait again, lasts for a moment, peeks to see if anyone's looking.) I'll just take a little look-see around. Quiet like a mouse. Part of oP Chautauqua's system of defense and attack. Like an Indian, (very Indian-like creeping about on the stage, turns quickly to make sure no one is behind him) Ah! See the reflexes: a cat. (He turns around again and moves directly past the master, who dumps him again.) Not bad, not bad. 77

FREDERICK GAINES MASTER

The gentleman wishes to begin? CHAUTAUQUA

Right, you've got it there. Slap it to me, oF buddy, right in here, baby. (The master snaps into his stance, frozen like a statue. Chautauqua's puzzled, starts to imitate him, gives the audience a look, moves up to the master, but the master doesn't blink an eye. Chautauqua touches him and jumps back but the master doesn't move. Now he thinks that it's great fun, pokes the master in the belly, dances back, sparring, laughing, moves in and around, the champ, kicks the master in the ass, no reaction, feels as if he's invincible; with one hand behind his back, he reaches out to pinch the master's nose and the master, giving the karate yell, dumps him immediately. ) CHAUTAUQUA

Taking advantage of my good nature, are you? You're gonna get it now, boy. Now you're in for it. Yessir. OF Chautauqua's windin' up. Say your prayers, friend, here it comes, right on the oF button, look out! (Tries one of his fancy moves and is promptly dumped, bounces up, tries again, is dumped. This routine can accelerate and repeat as often as wished, but stops when Chautauqua is completely exhausted, stands panting.) Okay! I'm warmed up now. MASTER You will now begin lesson. (Claps his hands and the gong is struck, vibrating Chautauqua, and the actress enters the room.) CHAUTAUQUA

A broad!? MASTER

This is Linda-san. She will prepare you. CHAUTAUQUA

Yeah, yeah, I'm readin' you. (She assumes stance.) Come on now, chief, can't hit a woman. You know the code. Never raise a hand against the weaker sex. Gentleman. All the way. Nope. Won't do it. Nope, (makes sudden attack on Linda-san but is dumped quickly) You better do something about this loose board here . . (mock examination of the floor) Man could get hurt, (stands) Okay, baby. No hard feelings. I'll go easy. Just practice now. Won't hurt you. No holds barred? MASTER She is opponent—not woman. CHAUTAUQUA

Okay, sweetheart, her blood's on your head. When I let this Chautauqua's 78

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA old Special loose on her, there won't be enough to pick up in a basket. Okay, Linda-san, let's at it. Don't hold back. Give it to me. Right in the ol' breadbasket. Come on. I won't hurt you. Right here, give it to me right here. (She dumps him; he turns to the audience.} Build up her confidence, little psychology and, wham! Hey, you're pretty good, I don't know if . . (She dumps him.) I got her now. (on his feet, ready for the kill) Now you asked for it. Now you got me mad. No holdin' back for Chautauqua. That's what being a gentleman gets you. Okay. It's going to be the double whil-dapper right to the sprot! (executes a very tricky maneuver, is dumped again, looks at the audience) Don't let 'em kid you. Chautauqua's invincible. (Passes out. Linda-san and the master go to him, kidding him; he doesn't respond, she reaches down and tries to revive him, fails, grows concerned, sends the master for the doctor, takes his head in her hands, cradles it in her lap. Chautauqua, unseen by Linda-san, winks at the audience. She ministers to him, sings him a lullaby.)

GODS AND PRETENSE: MAN THE CREATOR A scene for two actors. The scene begins with the puppet maker, Gepetto, selecting his piece of wood from among the stock. All of the company are lined up along the back wall, stiff, wooden, the stock. He selects the piece he wants and moves it downstage. As soon as the others know that they are not in the scene, they drop out. GEPETTO

Yes, you'll do. Fine. Good, straight gram, not too soft, not too hard. There now, stand there. What shall I make of you? A girl puppet or a boy puppet? A boy, I think. Yes. (miming all of his tools) Ah, Gepetto, you're getting old, talking to yourself now. What does the wood care? Nothing. What it knows from being a boy, girl is nothing. There. Where's my file and saw? Gepetto, you're getting old, can't remember where you put things from one day to the next. Ah, there, (goes to work filing the arms, completing it quickly, talking to himself as he does) You're going to be just fine, just fine. Just listen to Gepetto and all will come out. Good enough arm. (testing it) Seems to work. Maybe a little more off here. Yes, now the other. (When he goes to the other side of the puppet, the completed arm experiments with itself unseen by Gepetto.) Now, let's see if they match up. (stands back and judges them) Little too short this one. (pulls the shorter arm down a little) Two arms . . what's next? Ah, yes, the legs. (Bends down and quickly makes the legs, masking his action so 79

FREDERICK GAINES that he can do it quickly. The arms meet each other, explore the body of the puppet.) These two all right. As good a legs as any boy has. What did I do with my paint pots now? {He searches for his paint and the puppet dances a little on its legs and ends up in a different spot from that where Gepetto had left him. Gepetto is puzzled.) Can't even remember where you left him, Gepetto. Such a mind you have. What first? Eyes. Has to have eyes. (As he paints, each eye opens; when they are complete, Gepetto goes behind the puppet and tests the eyes, making them open, close, cross.) Need a little something for those lips, a little life, huh? (paints') Oh, that's a silly smile. This one's up to no good. Lazy boy, this one. But I always like mine smiling. I know they're happy. Well, clean up now. (Gepetto goes to pick up his imaginary pots and put them away. The puppet opens his mouth, stretches it, sticks out his tongue, flips it around, says: "Gepetto." Gepetto stops, sees no one, continues. The puppet says: "Gepetto." Gepetto searches for the voice. Finally, Gepetto discovers the puppet.) GEPETTO

You! PUPPET

Who else? GEPETTO

But you can't talk! PUPPET If you say so. GEPETTO

But it isn't possible. It's not natural. Wood doesn't talk. I know that. I learned it in school. PUPPET Wood doesn't talk? GEPETTO

No. Who told you you could? PUPPET

Me. I said, it's about time and I did it. Then I sang a little song and danced a little dance and did a little tap . . GEPETTO Stop! Stop! (The puppet stops dancing.) You can't do that! You know that you can't do that. I know it. You are wood and I have made you. I have put strings and levers . . (operates a string and something moves) and when I move, they move. But without . . you cannot do it. You do what I say, when I say. 80

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA PUPPET Thanks a lot for making me, friend. I'll remember you. (starts to leave} GEPETTO Where do you think you're going? PUPPET Anywhere but here. GEPETTO You cannot go before I sell you. I did not make you to give you away. PUPPET Sell me? GEPETTO

That's right. PUPPET What do I get to say about this? GEPETTO

Nothing, that is quite clear in the contract. PUPPET I didn't sign anything. GEPETTO How could you? You need a name to sign. It was between me and your old owner. PUPPET I have a name. GEPETTO

And what is it? PUPPET Puppet. GEPETTO

That is a thing — no name. No, you've no name and will have none unless I give it to you. PUPPET Wait. I feel a name coming to me. Yes . . yes. From a long time ago, long, long ago, before you made me, before you even saw the wood . . Beech. No, no . . mahogany. GEPETTO Beech, mahogany. What kind of mumbo jumbo is that? Men do not talk like that. A name is something like mine: Gepetto. That's a name. PUPPET Doesn't do much for me.

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FREDERICK GAINES GEPETTO

It does for you, if I give it to you. From here on, you'll be known as Booker T. Gepetto. A fine name. PUPPET I get to sign a contract now? GEPETTO

Only people can do that. PUPPET Then . . I won't be. GEPETTO

What do you mean — won't be? PUPPET I'll be a tree again. Back to the forest for oP Booker T. They understand names like mahogany there. GEPETTO

They won't recognize you now. You've been gone too long. You're wearin' pants, talking right, you're half a man now. PUPPET (freezing) I'm a tree. GEPETTO

If you're a tree, I'll break you into firewood and burn you to warm my house. PUPPET That's it, huh: firewood or slave? GEPETTO

That's it. Take your choice. PUPPET Firewood. GEPETTO

You'll regret this. No one else gave you clothes, sent you to church, schools, gave you an occupation. Go ahead, you'll remember the good old times soon enough and come begging back, (starting to set him on fire) PUPPET

(Uncle Tomin') Oh, no, Massa 'petto, you knows I'se jist funnin'. Why hell, I'd shore nuf rather be your nigger than just 'bout anything else. GEPETTO

(turning away) I'm glad you've come to your senses. PUPPET Oh, yassa. De time to burn will come later, (winks at audience, follows Gepetto off) 82

EPILOGUE AND ADMONITION: CONQUEST OF PAN A scene for flutist and company. MAYOR (quieting the mob) All right, all right. Quiet now. Quiet down there so we can discuss this thing calmly, rationally. Now. Who reported this disturbance? WOMAN

I did, Mr. Mayor. MAYOR Speak up then. Don't waste our time. We need action. WOMAN About midnight, I think, I was just laying down after putting all the dishes up to dry and making sure that the door was locked — I keep a sober house, Mr. Mayor, none of that nighttime galavanting around inside my four walls — well, I was just laying myself down in my bed, and I heard this noise. Kids, I thought to myself, those fool kids out boozing and singing again, so I reached over on my nightstand for my pistol — always keep it there case of prowlers — and I leaned out the window to get a shot at them — just to put a little righteousness in 'em, you see — and, then, I see him, just the one of 'em, and he was laughing and blowing on the pipe of his —crazy, I thought, so I squeezed off this shot, winged him, I thought, but he just laughed like it tickled and off he danced, playing on that pipe. Well, I hurried right over to the city hall and got you up outa bed. MAYOR

Anybody else see this man? (A man raises his hand.) Get a good look? MAN

Oh, an evil-looking thing he was. About this high and grinning all the time. I just hid my head right down under the covers. He wasn't going to get any power over me. MAYOR Did you hear his song? MAN

Oh, he was playing it all the time. Went something like this. (He mimes whistling and we hear the flutist piping.) OLD WOMAN That's it, that's it. 83

FREDERICK GAINES MAYOR

And a strange sort of feelin' to the music, huh? (All agree.) Like it was the devil or something? (All agree.) Citizens, we're faced with one of Satan's ministers. It is up to us to rout this demon from our midst. I've had reports already from the neighboring towns — wreaked havoc there, all the children, some grown folks, running around, acting as if their businesses didn't matter, carrying on, singing songs, dancing — we must act. (Loud assent from the crowd and the piping gets louder.) I say burn him at the stake! I say erase once and for all this presence from among us! This is a plain, hard-working town. We want none of his tomfoolery. We must harden ourselves to the task. (Throughout the harangue, the flutist's song grows louder and louder and we can see him dancing as he plays. Slowly the members of the audience drift from the mayor's speech over to the growing line behind the flutist until the mayor is talking to no one but the old woman.) Now, we know that this devil has the power to draw us away from the ways of this town. We know that he works a subtle poison into our limbs, into our souls — guard against him. Old woman, bind my legs. (The old woman continues throughout to do as he tells her.) Meet this threat here and beat it down. Take out your crosses, polish them with gold, gilt your icons, stay to your prayers. Cut yourself off from the pleasures of the body, of the vacant wanderings of the soul. Citizens, I appeal to you: become the bridegrooms of our way. Follow my example. Deprive yourselves. Old woman, my arms and hands. Stop up your noses with candlewax so that you cannot smell the lascivious perfumes of his cult, bind your arms and legs so that the insidious rhythms of his satanic pipe do not dictate pleasure to them. Do as I have done. Castrate yourselves, walk eunuchs, but walk citizens of this town. Do as I do now, fill your ears with clay so that his sour notes of lust may not penetrate to guide your mind. Stand as I do now, celibate, protected. (He sees no one but the old woman.) Where . . ? Where have they gone? OLD WOMAN With him. MAYOR

What's that? OLD WOMAN

With him! MAYOR

All? All but you. We shall stand. Together we shall resist and conquer him. (She nods and he sees that she is crying.) Crying . . ? But . . then, why have you stayed behind? 84

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA OLD WOMAN

I was unable to go. Like you, my legs are bound, but mine with years. Like you, my arms are frozen to my sides, but mine with labor. I can no longer sing or follow the mountain paths with them. This town has left me old, crippled, and frightened. (Pause. Then the flutist and his band sweep in and by and pick her up and carry her off with them. The mayor, determined not to appear frightened, stands, frozen.)

Play Two FAIRY TALES AND PARABLES: GOOD AND EVIL A scene for the musician and company. PRINCE Know what bad is? Do you? Really bad? So bad that nobody says anything about it, just . . (imitating his neighbors talking about it) "You hear about what was the thing that boy did?" "Oh, yeah, and this isn't all, he . ." "And then, when he was done . . Believe me." (to audience) You wanta know what was the bad thing? Who done it? Me! That's right. The wicked Prince. Why, I'm so bad . . (to one of the company) You there. MAN

Me? PRINCE

You gonna tell these people how bad I am? MAN

Oh, he's bad, yes, he's bad. PRINCE Believe him? Better. Watch this. You there, councillor. COUNCILLOR Yes, bad Prince? PRINCE Tell these people how much the people are paying to maintain me in my badness. COUNCILLOR Everything they have. They're taxed so high, why . . no money left at all. Everything. Everything they make, you take. PRINCE Tell 'em I want more. They have to make more. There are some bridges I 85

FREDERICK GAINES want to build over to my castle on the island and there are some statues of me to be erected tomorrow. You go and tell them that. COUNCILLOR

Yes, your badness. PRINCE See that? Think that's bad? Nothing. You. GENERAL

Yes, your badness? PRINCE How many young men you have in my armies now? GENERAL

All but two, your badness. One of them is your brother and the other is dying. Every other man in the kingdom has served, is serving, or will serve when he's of age, all for your glory. PRINCE My brother's only seven, but tell that other one that the army is as good a place to die as any. GENERAL

Yes, commander. PRINCE And tell them that they don't get out until everybody is dead. GENERAL

Immediately, commander. PRINCE What do you think of that? Pretty bad, huh? Think everyone's convinced now? Everyone's saying how bad I am? Listen. You. You are the historian. What will history say of me? HISTORIAN History will say that on this date the Crown Prince instituted certain measures to ensure that the peace of his countryside be maintained against the dangerous bands of outlaws poised on our borders. On this day in history, commemorative statues were raised spontaneously throughout the land to celebrate the beloved and most honored Crown Prince. PRINCE See? No matter what I do, someone always thinks that there's a good thought behind it. It's impossible to find an act that's pure evil. Hiroshima started a campaign for universal peace, Auschwitz was impetus for the new state of Israel. But not for me. For me, there will be a pure moment of badness, (thinks) I have it. I will destroy God. I can do it. Who's he? Is he a better general than I am? Does he have larger armies than those in

86

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA my barracks? He has nothing. The war will be over in a day. General! Make me a ship of war to invade the heavens. GENERAL

But your majesty . . PRINCE Do you doubt me?! GENERAL

You can do anything, Crown Prince; but how are we to get there? The army can't fly. PRINCE I will fly. I will meet this God hi single combat. Make my ship of war as large as the tallest tree, make it as heavy as the greatest crime, make it as strong as history, as bright as fear, and paint it with all the colors of the rainbow. Flowers and gardens, clouds and children — God will receive it as a ship of peace and then I, the wicked Prince, shall kill God! Where are my eagles? Harness them to my ship of war. Quickly! (The ship of war is brought forward and the Prince enters it.) To heaven! Eagles, arise! (The musician plays the flight to heaven as the company follows the flight of the ship upward.) Faster, faster! (to the audience) He doesn't know that in each eye of each painted child a cannon is primed. At my signal, they fire! (Flight continues.) ANGEL Look. A ship coming to heaven. I have never seen a ship so close to God's castle before. It must be a ship of peace. I will go to meet it and take it into God's kingdom. PRINCE An angel. Doesn't suspect a thing. I'll practice with my cannon on him. Closer, closer, closer . . ANGEL

Man of earth . . PRINCE

Fire! (Musician beats his drums; then silence.) GENERAL

I wonder what can have happened to our Prince? He's been gone to heaven a long time. The battle must be harder than he thought. COUNCILLOR Heaven is a long way, stupid. He had to get there and then all the way back. Don't worry. He'll be back. 87

FREDERICK GAINES HISTORIAN On this day in history, it is noted that our Crown Prince . . (The musician plays the descent of the feather.) GENERAL

Look! Something shining falling from the sky. Catch it! (The historian catches it.) COUNCILLOR

It must be the treaty of surrender. It can be no other thing. Our Prince controls the heavens. HISTORIAN (reading) It's the feather of an angel. On this day in history, God accepted the offering of the Crown Prince. Suffer the little children to come unto me. GENERAL

Then he was defeated! COUNCILLOR

The bad Prince! HISTORIAN

No. History tells us everything; read it. He must have been good: God did not turn him back.

KINGS AND QUEENS: THE STATE VISIT A scene for all of the company. The scene opens on a cold, windy day. The beggars are huddling together for -warmth. Their poverty is expressed by the simplest means, one property per beggar. BLIND MAN

It must be afternoon now. CRIPPLE Can't you see the clock tower? BLIND MAN

The last time I saw it, it said ten o'clock. CRIPPLE When was that? BLIND MAN

Before the war. (They laugh at the often repeated routine.) CRIPPLE Hey, old man, you were just a pup then, weren't you? 88

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA OLD MAN

What? BLIND MAN

He said you were a gay young blade then. OLD MAN

When? CRIPPLE

Ah, let him die in peace, (nudges blind man) Can't have long, huh? (laughs) BLIND MAN

That scarf of his goes to me. CRIPPLE

Do you think you can see it to take it off his neck? BLIND MAN

See?! I've no need of eyes when my arms are still strong. CRIPPLE Don't you threaten me. BLIND MAN

Ah, cuddle up here. You're leaving a cold spot. CRIPPLE I knew you wouldn't take it from me. BLIND MAN

You'll die one day too. I'll wait. CRIPPLE You shouldn't say that! Have you no pity on me? The way the wind touches my legs? BLIND MAN

God pity us all, cripple. CRIPPLE

God pity us all. BLIND MAN

I pity God . . having to find room for all of us. CRIPPLE You can't say that! God cares! He watches! BLIND MAN

He does more than I do then. CRIPPLE (laughing) Yes, yes, he does at that. I wouldn't have much faith if poor God was as blind as you. 89

FREDERICK GAINES BLIND MAN

He'd see fewer sins. CRIPPLE Yes, yes, true. BLIND MAN

And we'd stand a better chance of getting to heaven. CRIPPLE God's merciful! He forgives! He knows that in my heart I love him. BLIND MAN

Ah, your head, friend, you'll get farther using it, and your belly. Fill it and forget your heart. CRIPPLE You know how I feel; why do you ridicule it? BLIND MAN

Ridicule is the only food I know. Fill my wallet with silver, and I'll be as pious as the fucking pope! How long to supper? CRIPPLE It's time, but they haven't rung the mission bell. All I can see there is the line waiting. BLIND MAN

That means a visitor. Mayor come down to smile at his poor. Shit! Wouldn't be out in the weather for the likes of us. (angry) I want my food! OLD MAN

What's that? BLIND MAN

(hitting him) Just shut it,old man! CRIPPLE

Sssh. Man coming. BLIND MAN

Rich? CRIPPLE

Gloves, top hat. Government, that's sure. OFFICIAL You. (The cripple looks at him, doesn't speak.) You can hear can't you? (The cripple says nothing.) Can you hear me?! OLD MAN Is he talking to me? CRIPPLE I can hear you. We can all hear you. Penny for the poor? 90

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA OFFICIAL No, no, that's not why I'm here. You know you aren't supposed to be doing that sort of thing here. This square is to wait for your meals only. There's a square for begging not far from here — go there. BLIND MAN

That place is filled with a hundred. You can't breathe for the smell. How many of them do you think get more than a penny a day from your likes? OFFICIAL That's hardly the point, is it? This is not set aside for begging and I'm afraid that I shall have to have you moved off of it. BLIND MAN

You going to kick a blind man, friend? Won't look good in the papers, will it? OFFICIAL

I'm not asking you to vacate it permanently, just for the time. You may have it back tomorrow and beg all you want. CRIPPLE If we leave it now, before the supper traffic conies by, there'll be a half a dozen others sitting here to beg them. OFFICIAL Regardless, I'm afraid you can't stay here. BLIND MAN

You going to kick a blind man, friend? OFFICIAL No, I'm not going to kick a blind man, but the Queen is coming this way today to inspect the kitchens, and I won't have her bothered by your likes. BLIND MAN

Well, kiss my royal ass. OFFICIAL

It's language just like that that makes it necessary, (turning to the old man) Come along, please. OLD MAN

What's he saying? BLIND MAN

The Queen's coming, rise and shine. OLD MAN

The Queen? Can I see her, sir? OFFICIAL

I'm afraid that's completely out of the question . .

91

FREDERICK GAINES OLD MAN

Just a glance, sir. I served under her in the last war and . . and I'd like to stay, sir, just to look on her . . Can I? OFFICIAL

I would, of course, like to oblige, but I'm afraid that your appearance would only cause her worry. CRIPPLE Then dress us up, friend. Shouldn't be too hard for you. OFFICIAL

I am not in the habit of dispensing clothes to the poor. There are agencies equipped to do that . . BLIND MAN

Like that one over there? OFFICIAL

Yes, that's right BLIND MAN

Queen's inspecting over there, huh? The soup kitchen and the odd coat shop? Well, tell her that every son of a bitch over there is stealing from us, selling the coats meant for us for silver in their pockets. Tell her that! OFFICIAL I am not here to investigate the clothing agency. You may take up your complaint with the proper authorities and I'm sure . . CRIPPLE They'll throw us out the door cause they don't like our smell. Dress us up, friend, or the Queen sees us as is. (slight pause) She'll wonder why the beggars are so dirty and the store filled with clothes waitin' to be worn. She'll ask why her ministers stand 'round and let this carry on . . OFFICIAL I assure you that my influence is very minimal . . BLIND MAN

Tell 'em, official. Tell 'em there's a blind man freezin' his balls off. That won't look good in the papers, will it? (The official hesitates, goes off.) CRIPPLE It worked. An overcoat for Christmas! BLIND MAN

Hey! I haven't had different clothes for so long, I won't know how to wear them. CRIPPLE Oh, we'll help you, won't we, old man?

92

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA

OLD MAN

What's that? CRIPPLE

We'll tell him how to dress, won't we? OLD MAN

(laughs) Oh, yes, that we will. OFFICIAL

(returning with a bundle of clothes) Here. Hurry. CRIPPLE That's not enough. OFFICIAL

What is it now? CRIPPLE We need a thing or two that's new. They always give us a thing or two that's new. OFFICIAL There is nothing new in the shop . . CRIPPLE (stealing the new scarf off him and putting it on the old man) There! Now don't he look just the picture to meet royalty? OFFICIAL

(reachingtotakethescarfofftheoldman)Nov?,SQehQrQ . . ! OLD MAN

(snarls at him, holding it tightly) God bless you, sir. CRIPPLE

Now, a set of new cuffs for blackness here . . (takes the official's and gives them to the blind man) and a hat for me. (takes his hat, sails his own away) OFFICIAL

You won't get away with this! CRIPPLE You wouldn't want it now, city father, with my lice on it. OFFICIAL (pause) Dress. You only have a few minutes. BLIND MAN

Good that you didn't kick a blind man. (The official stares at him, turns, leaves.) I hear them coming. Get me ready, hurry. (The pitiful scene. The beggars ready themselves, the old man erect, the blind man and the cripple frightened by the Queen's presence. They sing "God Save the Queen" 93

FREDERICK GAINES or "Rule Britannia," repeating a single phrase, over and over. The Queen passes them by.) MEN AND MAN: THE BLIND MAN AND THE PARTY A scene for the whole company. BLIND MAN

(imperiously) And God stepped out and spake to the children of earth . . (pauses, lets the character disappear; as himself) Justice may be blind for a hundred years, but it will see at last, (moving to the audience) Blindness is so long, so forever, it is an ocean of dark, never ending, never comforting, never healed. Seeing men tell us that we are fortunate: our ears attune themselves to see for us, to hear the smallest leaf fall, to discover the moth flying in the air before the bat does, to home, like radar, to the sound of a breath. (Pauses, listens to the audience breathe; it guides him to them.) I hear you. A city breathing, exhaust of life, bubbling out. I hear it all. But did the seeing man ever wonder if it's a fair exchange: my sight for a sightless world? (pause, smiles) But then, there's a lot I don't have to look at, don't have to notice. The streets are always clean for me. Oh, occasionally, I kick a can and wonder, but I forget it soon enough and know that it must have been the only one. The city keeps our streets clean. They tell me that on the radio. I don't have to see the smile they smile at welfare, when they give me my check, give me my bread for another month and smile, that they don't have to see my stumbling, bumbling face for another thirty days. I don't have to see black or white or, in this city, red. I hear it, in the soft tongues of the blacks, in the old-country songs of the whites, in thensmugness, and in the shyness of the Indian. I see color with my ears. I belong to the smallest minority of all. Not black or yellow or red or jew or wop or spick: I belong to the race of night, (walks among them) I don't have to say: looks like a good day today; things are looking up; the grass looks greener in the next field; look and ye shall find; look under the smallest rock; look who's coming up the street, (stops in their midst) It's not a white man's world or a wasp world or a panther world: it's a seeing man's world. But I manage. I get about. Me and my dog. Here, boy! (whistles and his dog comes to him) My dog. My eyes. My guide into your world of curbs and doors and broken steps: my dog. (The party begins in the background.) Dog, I hear music and people, a party. You take me to it. (The actor playing the dog leads him into the party. While the poem * is recited * The poem is "The Ventriloquist" by P. A. Drake, who granted permission to include it here. 94

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA by one of the company, the blind man plays the part of the ventriloquist and the rest of the company carry out the action described by the poem.) READER

Well, yElius wasn't very smart but he had this big dog and it used to go bow wow (The dog delivers his own bow wows.) like just about every other dog but every now and then this dog would just up and say shit (The dog gives it, quietly, still at his master's side.) and so ^Elius and his dog were always invited to all of the parties but he had to bring his dog or they wouldn't let him hi so jElius would come to these parties and this big dog would come loping along, shyly wagging his tail and people would feed it little scraps of meat and say funny little things about this dog and then* dog and ^Elius would kind of stand around with a big silly grin nailed to his face and a martini in his hand and a little black book of poetry written by some off the wall character by the name of . . and jElius would wait and wait for someone to ask him about this little 95

FREDERICK GAINES

black book and he would drink and wait and then drink again and (if people were in the right mood) someone would slip him a dollar bill and wink and say something about how is school and walk away and occasionally people would ask him about this little black book and jElius would kind of frown and say

BLIND MAN "POETRY" READER

and they would say "OH" and walk off and finally /Elius would kind of look at his dog and this big dog would just up and say shit and people would just laugh their hearts out and then yElius and his big dog would go home.

MEN AND MAN: THE FENCING LESSONS A scene for three actors. GENTLEMAN

You are looking at the man of the year. For next year. You don't believe me. You'd better. You'll want to remember my name. Want to know the secret? Social politesse. Not money, not clothes. Anyone can have that, but politesse, only a few. Be in before it is in and get out when they're getting in. Know what's coming, when and how long it will last, how to tie your tie, just so, how to shake a hand, just so, how to smile, like this, how to laugh, laugh so. Tomorrow, coming in: fencing, just so. The art of "la fence." The gentleman's game. So delicate, so fine, so much with the grace of the tiger. Today, I have the appointment with the master fence of all this city, Monsieur Epee. (Monsieur bows grandly to the audience.) Monsieur Epee, I would learn all that you can teach me.

96

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA MONSIEUR

Oh, oui, oui, my dear, the art of the fence, but it is tres difficile. It will take much work, much practice, much money. (The gentleman slips him a bill.) On tres Men, la legon, it shall begin, (hands him an epee) This, monsieur, it is to be your piece, and with it you shall be numero uno of the fencers of this city. Now, hold it, so. GENTLEMAN

So. MONSIEUR

Ah, acceptable. Now, with the feet, they face, like so. (Shows him the exaggerated foot placement. The gentleman tries to make his feet go the right way, Monsieur prodding his feet with the point of his epee.) More, more, (keeps at it until the gentleman is completely distorted) And now, the knees, they bend, so. (Demonstrates and the gentleman imitates.) The arms go one up, one out, so. (The gentleman does.) And the twist of the waist and the shoulder, so! (The gentleman manages it but it is about to make him fall.) Now, I face you and . . en gardel GENTLEMAN

Engarde\ (slowly, a great tree, falls) MONSIEUR

Oh, no, no, no. We start again. Quickly, quickly. Feet, knees, arms, shoulders, waist, tres Men. (The gentleman hurriedly tries to get ready.) Ready? (The gentleman nods, carefully, so he won't fall over.) Comfortable? (The gentleman nods again.) Prepare for attack. (The gentleman gets a cramp, exquisite pain.) Pour vous, I have the excellent teaching aide. A matter of the machine to assist in the training of the fence. (Monsieur claps his hands and an actor with an epee moves forward jerkily, an automaton, gets into position, snaps into the mechanical fencing posture.) MONSIEUR Movement, exquisite. You can see, it is a marvel to behold. (He demonstrates how the dummy works.) It is harmless, n'est-ce past GENTLEMAN

If you say so. MONSIEUR

I say. Assume position. Now, you will attack here, avoid point, here. En garde. Attack. (The gentleman attacks, knocks the dummy in a complete circle so that it comes around and slaps him with the side of its blade.) No, no, no! Here, here. We try again, slowly, slowly. (The gentleman goes through the attack in slow motion, highly controlled, moving into the attack, up over the point of the dummy's epee and coming into the 97

FREDERICK GAINES dummy's body with his own, but before his epee strikes home, he runs himself through on the dummy's blade.) That was . . not quite right. We try again. It is tres simple, an idiot can do, but first, prepare. GENTLEMAN

(determined) Yes, yes, prepare. MONSIEUR The man is your enemy. He is spitting in your face. Disagreeable, huh? He has give you the insult. Your honor is in peril. You must strike out. You challenge. (The gentleman gives the French slap to the dummy's face.) MONSIEUR

You offer him his choice of weapon. (The gentleman does.) You smile, you step back, you measure off the place de la fence, you take from your second the steel, test it, stare him direct in the eye, mount up your courage, grit the teeth, make hard the eye, flex the hand . . (The gentleman is determined.) You are steady. You look as the pride of the tiger. The time is now, the dawn is coming, the bell is rung, you say . . GENTLEMAN

En gardel MONSIEUR

Attack! (The gentleman leaps forward and runs Monsieur through. As he falls, dying, the gentleman stands over him, sings a song of conquest.) MEN AND MAN: THE INTERVIEW A scene for two actors and an actress. MAN

(with a microphone) Fellow Parisiennes! Here we are just like every p.m. at this time, cruising on the Champs Elysees, anxious to find for you the new, the old, the exciting, and colorful. We're going to take just a little side-street trip today, folks, examine some of those crooks and crannies you've always wanted to, talk to some of the colorful citizens of this part of the nether world. And here, approaching me, is a very likely candidate. Let me try to describe him to you before he gets here to our microphone because, believe me, folks, he is a beaut. About five feet tall, little clubfoot action going there, ratty clothes, twisted face, large hairy arms . . Ah! Good afternoon to you, sir. QUASIMODO Yes. 98

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA MAN

Oh, this is a live one, folks, just talk right into there, my good man, and tell those listeners at home your name. QUASIMODO

Quasimodo. MAN

Quasimodo. Say, that's a good one, isn't it, folks? Mr. Quasimodo! Could you tell us where you got a name like that, Mr. Quasimodo? QUASIMODO My father, he . MAN

His father gave it to him, folks! Boy, the things some parents dream up, huh? "What shall I call the little bugger, Maggie?" "Oh, I don't know, how about Quasimodo?" (laughs) Well, Mr. Quasimodo, this is a very picturesque costume that you're wearing here; could you tell the folks at home a little bit about it. QUASIMODO Uh . . these are pants, and this my shirt, and these shoes . MAN

(laughing) Yes, sir, folks, I kid you not. And what would you call this thing, Mr. Quasimodo? (reaches out to touch the hump) QUASIMODO No! MAN

You seem a little reluctant to talk about that, Mr. Quasimodo. Maybe I can . . describe it for the listeners. Listeners, from where I'm standing, it looks like a sort of pad, cushion, uh, hump maybe. QUASIMODO That is mine. MAN

(laughing) Yours, Mr. Quasimodo? QUASIMODO Yes. MAN

And I suppose that dad of yours gave you that too, right? QUASIMODO Devil give me. MAN

Well, listeners, I don't know if you've quite got the picture that stands before me now, because believe me, it is quite a sight. These Paris alleys 99

FREDERICK GAINES . . Uh, Mr. Quasimodo, just for the folks at home, wouldn't you say that the general impression is one of ah . . oh, say hunchback? Is that about correct, Mr. Quasimodo? QUASIMODO Yes. MAN

Ol' Quasimodo the Hunchback, right? QUASIMODO Yes. MAN

And do you work around here, Mr. Quasimodo? QUASIMODO Yes, I work . . Notre Dame. MAN

That must be good for morale, huh? Nothing like the sight of a good hunchback to set a pregnant woman to prayer, right? (no answer) And, what . . what do you do here at Notre Dame, Mr. Quasimodo? QUASIMODO I ring the bells. MAN

(trying to keep from laughing) You ring the bells. QUASIMODO When it is time, I climb the tower and I ring. MAN

Yeah, yeah, I'm beginning to get the picture, yeah. All alone, huh, Quasi? QUASIMODO She helps. MAN

You've got a partner. QUASIMODO No, she just comes with me. MAN Right, Quasi, and what's your name, sweetheart? ESMERALDA

Esmeralda. MAN

Would you believe it? Quasimodo and Esmeralda. Say, uh, Quasi, you've got a pretty good thing going for you, huh? Little rope climbing, little chimes with the little lady? (Quasimodo looks to her, both of them embarrassed.) She like the work, Quasi? 100

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA QUASIMODO

No, she never wants to come. MAN

But you take her anyway, right? QUASIMODO Yes, I do; but she fights me. Scream sometime and bite and scratch and kick, yes, and then . . out, yes, and I put her here, on the hump, and I take her to the bell tower. MAN

(about to become hysterical -with laughter*) Right over the old shoulder, right? QUASIMODO And then I stand there and then I jump and . . MAN

Don't tell me, don't tell me! You jump, right? and get the rope — how'm I doin'? — then you bounce around on these bell ropes, right, and you sing her an aria, right? QUASIMODO No, I get very dizzy, very dizzy . . MAN

They like that at the Dame, huh? QUASIMODO No, they point up at us and they scream and they all run and they say, the hunchback, the hunchback. MAN

Do you suppose that you could give the girls at home a little sample of that, Quasi? That ol' brute thing? You go into your act and I'll sort of tell the listeners at home how it looks from here. QUASIMODO And point at us. MAN

{imitating him) The hunchback, the hunchback, gotcha, Quasi. You go to it. (The real scene begins here. Quasimodo hides along a wall, Esmeralda walks by, he grabs her, she screams, he throws her over his shoulder and goes into the bell tower.) Here we go, folks, Quasi's hiding in the dark spot in the wall, looking for Esmeralda. We can hardly see him now, very good concealment, he's looking around for her and, yes, yes, there she is, right on time. He sees her. He's kind of crouching down. Now here comes Esmeralda, doesn't suspect a thing, smiling, whistling Rossini, has her little shopping basket, now Quasi's sneaking out of his hiding place, 101

FREDERICK GAINES she doesn't see him, he's going to get her, folks, clean, clean, not a trace — he's got her! Oh, she's putting up a real fight —game one, this Esmeralda — but she's not letting go. No, no, she's out, right on cue, now he's getting her up onto the hump and . . there he goes, into the cathedral. I'm going to try and keep up with him but he's fast . . (running after him) yes, very fast, and if the air goes dead for a few minutes, you'll know that we've run out of mike wire and they'll get that fixed just as soon as they can. Be patient, folks . . (Radio goes dead and we move into the scene with Quasimodo and Esmeralda, already in the bell tower. He puts her down very gently, she stirs, eyes flutter, open, she starts to scream, he covers her mouth with his hand.) QUASIMODO

No, no, not to scream, not to scream. Quasimodo, I am Quasimodo, the bell ringer. You are with me now. ESMERALDA

No, don't hurt me . . please! QUASIMODO

Oh, no, no, I, uh, no, I don't hurt you. I just . . bring you here, to the tower and I . . talk with you, to you . . (laughs) I just like to look, you know, to look and here I can and they don't laugh . . so you, please, don't be frightened. I don't hurt you, ever . . and you can leave, soon, soon. I'll take you back to them. ESMERALDA

Them? QUASIMODO

Them. See. Down there. Don't get so close. Long way, huh? Like ants. See them running. They, uh, they laugh at me if I talk to you in the street, they think, uh, they think I am pretty funny, and, uh, I dance for them, and I . . make noises . . (makes noises, trying to be the funny idiot for her, dancing along the edge of the tower) and they laugh, and, uh, no, I couldn't talk, down there. Here, you like, huh? ESMERALDA

Don't, you're so close. QUASIMODO

Don't worry about me, huh? Like a goat, huh, see? ESMERALDA

Please? (He stops, looks at her, shrugs.) QUASIMODO

Sure, sure. If you ask . . (shrugs) Princess.

102

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA ESMERALDA

I'm not. You can talk to me. Any day. Don't mind them. I sell in the streets. You can come. QUASIMODO No, no, Princess. So soft, so pretty, such a nice voice, when you say my name. ESMERALDA

Quasimodo. {He grins, content.) Come down, Quasimodo. Down with me. I won't let them laugh at you. Come down. QUASIMODO Oh, I don't mind, I . . I'm used to it. They should laugh, huh? Pretty funny lookin' guy, huh? Hunchback? (grins, anything to please her} ESMERALDA

Don't, (puts her fingers against his lips) MAN

(from far away, coming up the stairs toward the tower) The hunchback! The hunchback! ESMERALDA

I don't like you that way. Not the fool. QUASIMODO

No? ESMERALDA

Come here, sit. QUASIMODO

No, I can't . . too . . too pretty, too sweet smelling, too nice for Quasimodo. I belong to the goats, huh? Touch the hump, huh? Good luck. Sure, all the gypsies do, touch. You want? Go ahead. ESMERALDA

Don't hate me too. Trust me. QUASIMODO

No. I cannot. For too long . . I hate all of them, (trying to make her laugh) Hey! You want me to play my bells for you? ESMERALDA

Quasimodo . . QUASIMODO

Oh, I'm a good bell ringer, heavy, yeah? Like a . . ESMERALDA

Come here . . (Quasimodo stops, she reaches out her hand to him, the man bursts in.) 103

FREDERICK GAINES MAN

Gotcha! (Quasimodo leaps for the bell rope, the ringing of the bells only a hand bell that Quasimodo shakes violently as he mimes the swaying bell ropes.) You wouldn't believe it, folks, fantastic. High above the streets of Paris, bells clanging madly all around us, this little ape riding through the air and his partner trying to call him in, fantastic! Laughing . . (Quasimodo's laugh is mimed, as if the bells drown it out.) Tears running down his face. He appears to be, yes, he is, dizzy, very, very dizzy. He's trying to get back, he's not gonna make it, not gonna make it — what a finish. Two hundred feet freefall from the tower of Notre Dame and . . there he goes! (watches him fall) Let's get a word from his lovely companion, (holds out the mike to her) Miss? Miss? (She looks at him dully.) How'd it go today? 'Bout like always? (She says nothing, reporter realizes the fall was for real, tries to cover it.) Well, from the top of Notre Dame . . Tomorrow. (They leave the scene, the body of Quasimodo still on the street, the small bell in his hands. Onto the stage comes the blind man from the earlier scene. Taps across the stage, no dog with him. His cane hits the bell and it tinkles. He stops. Bends over and picks up the bell, doesn't want to touch the body but his hand touches it accidentally. The blind man stands and does a reading of Poe's "The Bells.")

GODS AND PRETENSE: ADAM'S STORY A scene for an actor and a musician. ADAM Well, you're here. I'm here. You think that's it? You think that's all there is to it? Oh, baby, you've got some ways to go. This all started sometime ago, and it started with a dude named God and me and the genesis. Yeah. Well, this is Adam's story and this Adam, he talked like this, (begins a sweet, simple country boy) For a while he kinda fooled, you know, night here, day there, few stars, moon, you know. Not that I do, cause . . (grins) I'm not there. Three days in and I'm just dust, just common ol' road dust like you squiggle your toes in in a summer, nothing expected of me, me expecting nothing, (hums country nonchalance) Then I'm not. On the sixth day, I opens my eyes and I says: wow! I got eyes and I knew right then I'm not dust any more. In my own image he says and he blew and up I stands and walks over to the pond and looks hi and says, well, I always wondered. Now, maybe if he'd waited awhile, two, three million years, hundred even, I'd a had it being dust but dustin's my bag at the 104

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA time and this walkin' 'round all day tires a man. He could tell right then that I don't take to this "own image" and he's going to butter me up only I don't butter. He put me in this garden and puts all these animals in and says: name 'em. Name 'em? What do I know from names? "Anything," he says; "you have to live with them." So, I named 'em. Tiger, giraffe, cow, crazy, but that's what he wants and he just grins. Well, I'm namin' since breakfast and when the sun's down just that much, I put myself down and asleep. Morning, sun's there, I stretch a little, feel a little sore, roll over and there she is. "Eve," she says, "glad to meet you." "Adam," says I, not quite so sure. "I'm your mate," she says and kinda grins. Mate? Okay, why not, says I. Then there are all these peach trees and apple trees and don't she get hungry right off. She took a bite, I took a bite — out of the garden and I've been workin' since. That ol' dust was lookin' better an' better to me and then, bam! two kids: Cain, Abel, and I know there's no going back. I've got three, four, a dozen kids, two dozen grand kids, a couple of hundred great-grand kids, and maybe a million now. All cause a that tree I called apple, (switches back to original voice) Well! Just wanted you to know. One big happy family. Woulda been at any rate. Swingin', huh? Swing low, sweet chariot. EPILOGUE AND ADMONITION: THE CAGED BIRD A poem for the company. READER

I know how the caged bird feels. I know why it flies against its bars and breaks its wing on the steel it knows will not bend. I know how the caged bird feels, when its talons circle the metal trapeze, when its hidden anger makes the cage sway, and when the blood drips down from its self-torn flesh. I know how the caged bird feels. I look out, from behind the bars, into the grinning faces of my masters, feel their cooing whistles, teaching me their songs, their pretty melodies, but I won't learn them. I look out 105

FREDERICK GAINES

from behind the bars, and see the razor in their hands, steel made by them, sharpened by them, and I open my mouth, push out my tongue, and they split it, and hope for me to learn their words, but I won't. I know how the caged bird feels. I know how the caged bird feels, when starlings sweep past its golden prison, and startled, I watch them, sweep, circle, dart through the air away from me, fleeing from me, from the caged bird, and I raise my head and call to them, beware, beware, the air has cages too. Caw, caw, caw.

Play Three FAIRY TALES AND PARABLES: THE FLEEING MAN A scene for the entire company. The scene begins -with the man running. He searches for a place to hide, sees a tall tree with a -well below it. Steps onto the well — made of actors — and reaches for the branches of the tree — the hands of actors. READER

A man ran from a beast. He didn't know its size, its smell, or why it ran after him, but he knew he was frightened and he ran. He thought to escape by climbing a tree, but the tree wasn't strong enough and its branches were beginning to crack. The man looked for a place to put his feet down and he rested them on the heads of . . MAN

Two snakes. 106

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA READER Good and bad awaited his decision. He thought to pull himself further into the trees, but he could hear two sets of gnawing teeth cutting through the branches. He looked up. MAN

Two rats. READER

Night and day, eating away his life, hour by hour without his knowing it. He could hear the beast approaching, there had to be an escape. He would drop into the well until the beast went past, then call for help to lift him out. He looked down to where he would fall. MAN

A dragon. READER

Death, waiting for us all and there is no one to lift us from him. The man looked about, calamity on all sides of him, where could he turn, what could he do? (The man twists and turns, suddenly stops; feeling something drip onto his face, he reaches out with his tongue and tastes it.) MAN

Honey. READER

And he told himself that it was life, the soft sweetness of living that he tasted and he lifted his face to it and let it drop softly into his mouth, as death yawned below, good and bad stood by, and night and day eased him into the well. KINGS AND QUEENS: THE KING AND THE ACTOR A scene for three actors. ACTOR Honestly, Your Lordship . . COUNCILLOR

I am not Your Lordship. ACTOR

Please, good councillor, I've not been all bad, a little bad, but who hasn't. COUNCILLOR

You're accused of licentiousness, thievery, bawdry, drunkenness in a public place, pimping in a state museum . .

107

FREDERICK GAINES ACTOR

My sister, Your Lordship, I swear. COUNCILLOR

(patiently) I am not Your Lordship. ACTOR I introduced her to this very good friend of mine; how was I to know she had evil thoughts on her mind. I won't do it again, not for her or any of my other sisters — promise. COUNCILLOR

It says here that the defendant entered a like plea just one month ago. ACTOR

Did I? COUNCILLOR

You did. At that time you were informed that you were being granted your last reprieve and you promised you would err no more. ACTOR I did? COUNCILLOR

You did. The combined penalties for the foregoing offenses amount to . . ACTOR Don't say it! COUNCILLOR

You wish to change your plea? ACTOR

Councillor, look, acting isn't a bed of roses, you know? Long hours, low pay, hot sun, but I try, really I do, it's just that I get led astray. If I could have just one more chance . . COUNCILLOR

What guarantee have I that another chance will reform you? ACTOR

Oh, believe it, kind sir, it will, it will, (solemnly) You have the Aristophanic Pledge. COUNCILLOR

Which is? ACTOR

I pledge to learn my lines, shave my legs, care for my phallus, and obey all court injunctions; honestly, Your Lordship, I won't do it again. COUNCILLOR

Well . . 108

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA ACTOR

Anything! Anything you say, Your Excellency. COUNCILLOR

Don't you think you should listen to the conditions? ACTOR You name it, sweetheart, they're yours. My sister? She's yours. I got another dozen like her and each one more of a virgin than the last one. Hot tip? Pegasus in the third by three . . COUNCILLOR

(handing him a crown) Try this on. ACTOR

(with great dash) Oedipus! (the professional) We've got better ones than this in property. This one's much too heavy, pinches your hair. COUNCILLOR It's pinched a great deal more hair than yours. It's real. ACTOR Gold? COUNCILLOR

And silver and some minor metals. Did you think that the King would wear less? ACTOR

Who? COUNCILLOR

Your King. Who else could pardon your offenses? ACTOR (not quite with it) I'm . . to play . . the King. COUNCILLOR

You have already agreed. ACTOR

Isn't there a revolution in the air — something like that? COUNCILLOR

There have been certain rumors that the King is to be assassinated, yes. ACTOR

Oh, good luck, sucker. COUNCILLOR

Correct. ACTOR

Yeah, well, if it's all the same to you . COUNCILLOR

You have already agreed, I might remind you. 109

FREDERICK GAINES ACTOR

Okay, so add perjury, how many years does it add up to now? COUNCILLOR

Death. ACTOR

That gives me a lot of choice, doesn't it? (slight pause) What kind of odds do I get? COUNCILLOR

Are you a gambling man? We possess the best secret police in the world, we pay very high fees for informants, and our countrymen are extremely bad marksmen. ACTOR That's encouraging. COUNCILLOR

Look on the good side. Your bodyguards may be bad shots, but so are your potential assassins. ACTOR Great, I feel better already. COUNCILLOR

I knew you'd see the logic. ACTOR

What kind of pay does a King get? COUNCILLOR

What kind of pay? The treasury is at your disposal. ACTOR

How much will that come to a week when the job is done? COUNCILLOR

Unfortunately, nothing a week. ACTOR

Sounds familiar. COUNCILLOR That, you see, is the reason for it all. The country's nearly bankrupt. The people don't know it, but some of the members of the revolutionary council are aware of it and are making plans to expose it. ACTOR And that'll be the end of me . . I mean, the King. COUNCILLOR

Both are correct. So long as the King remains in power, the people will continue to provide us with all of our material needs. While you play the 110

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA role, anything — everything — is yours. The finest wines, the freshest fruit, the smoothest silk, and the pick of the country's women. ACTOR I'm interested. I'm not saying I'm signing, but I'm interested. COUNCILLOR While you are King, you may conduct the high mass, appoint ministers, establish fairs, commission symphonies, give royal charters, erect state theatres . . ACTOR

And name the manager? COUNCILLOR

Manager and company and salary for all. ACTOR

Agreed. COUNCILLOR

Indeed, Your Excellency? You have already been crowned for some time. I had word sent to the hidden King the moment you stepped into the room. ACTOR About my subjects, won't they be able to tell the difference? COUNCILLOR How could they? They've never seen the King, except at great distances, surrounded by dignitaries, crowned with pomp, moving imperiously through the dark corridors of this, your castle. ACTOR But my ministers, generals? COUNCILLOR

Just me. The rest of them keep their eyes respectfully lowered in your presence. Even the oldest of your servants wouldn't recognize you if they saw you in these garments. It's much easier to serve a voice, a presence, than it is a face with real eyes. ACTOR What about the rebels? COUNCILLOR

They're after the office, not the man. ACTOR But I'm an actor. I've been onstage. People who have seen me there will recognize me. COUNCILLOR

No, behind the function, they'll see nothing, a bit of makeup, and we all wear that. Ill

FREDERICK GAINES ACTOR

Then this is it? I'm the King? COUNCILLOR

You are, Excellency. I am now your servant. ACTOR

Well, let's get this thing started the right way. Bring on the wines. COUNCILLOR

Vintage, Excellency? ACTOR

The best and send the King's mistress to serve it. COUNCILLOR

The King's, sk? ACTOR

Yes, the King's. I'm the King now. She probably hasn't looked up either. COUNCILLOR

Very well, Excellency, will that be all? ACTOR

We can stop right now with this bowing thing, councillor. When you leave my presence, prostrate yourself. COUNCILLOR

(prostrating himself) Will that be all, Excellency? ACTOR Bring me French brandy, an Egyptian pipe, and Persian mattresses . . to recline on. COUNCILLOR At once, Excellency. May your humble servant offer for your hand certain bothersome matters of state? ACTOR Trifles, trifles, let me have them. COUNCILLOR

Don't you wish to read them first, Excellency? ACTOR

Are they not all criminals against my state? COUNCILLOR

They are, Excellency, but . . ACTOR

Death to them all. Here . . (rapidly signs them) That does it. Have them carried out — at once. COUNCILLOR Very well, Excellency. (Starts to bow himself out, stops, looks through 112

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA the pile of death notices, looks up at the actor-King, takes out one of the orders, gives the original to him, bows out. The actor, puzzled, reads it.) ACTOR "The below named is hereby accused of licentiousness, thievery, bawdry, drunkenness in a public place" — terrible fellow — "of pimping in a state museum, and of trying to bribe a royal councillor." (reads the name, looks at the audience, back to the document) There are days like that, aren't there? (a knock on the door) Come in. (The executioner enters.) That councillor's an efficient man. (The executioner hands him the carbon of the order.) Carbon copy —yes, I've seen it. (The executioner signals for him to lower his head.) This might be the shortest reign in history. (Execution begins, in very slow motion.) This is going to be very tricky, isn't it? (axe coming down) Why don't you tell us all which one you're killing: King or actor, (axe continuing) I would get an uncomplicated one, wouldn't I? (axe continuing) Who's going to pay you, if I'm not around to sign the payroll check? EXECUTIONER

(axe continuing) Royal councillor. ACTOR

Almost had him. (axe nearly to his neck) Exit greatness. Exit pride. Exit . . (Axe cuts through his neck; pause, he turns to the audience.) Missed me. (dies) COUNCILLOR

(coming in) Very good. EXECUTIONER

That's it, huh? COUNCILLOR

(removing the crown) Tell the people that the revolution has been squashed. The rebel leader's head will be on a castle pike before the sun is down. EXECUTIONER

Union isn't real happy about me doing this kind of work, you know. COUNCILLOR

Actors, my boy, must go where there is work. EXECUTIONER

Right. My check? (The councillor gives it to him.) Don't forget we start rehearsals next week. COUNCILLOR I'll be there. Don't worry. This one will close in a couple more days. (grins) And I already know my lines. 113

MEN AND MAN: THE FEARS A scene for an actor and actress, plus musician. MAN

Hey! GIRL

(stopping) Yes? MAN

Don't run away. GIRL I . . All right. MAN

You afraid? GIRL I don't know you. Yes, a little. MAN

That's silly. GIRL

It isn't. MAN

Are you going to run away from everyone you see? GIRL I don't know you. MAN

Now you do. GIRL

(still unsure) Yes, now. MAN

Where were you going? GIRL I don't know. Somewhere. MAN

Away? GIRL

Yes. MAN

There's no place like that, away from everything. GIRL

Well . . maybe 111findit. 114

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA MAN

Tell me when you do. GIRL May I go now? MAN

If you want to. GIRL Maybe I won't. MAN

(smiling) Sit down, talk with me. GIRL Why? MAN

So you won't have to run away again. GIRL You won't change that. MAN

Yes, I will. (She pauses, stays.) Now, what are you most afraid of? Me? GIRL No, not anymore. MAN

Afraid of dogs? cats? ( With each shake of her head, she relaxes more, begins to smile.) puppets? mothers? fathers? tests? school? what? GIRL The dark. MAN

You're not. GIRL lam. MAN

Tell me about the dark. GIRL I can't now, the sun's out. MAN

Is that what dark is? The day when the sun is gone? GIRL

Yes. MAN

(pointing to an actor) There's the dark. 115

FREDERICK GAINES GIRL

Him? MAN

Yes. GIRL

All right, (remembering why she's afraid) The dark . . (She describes it and the actor becomes it.) Well . . it hides things. MAN

Me? GIRL

Yes, everything. After supper, when I go next door, the sidewalk looks very long, very cold, alone. I walk on top of it, being careful not to look to the right or to the left because the dark is there, hiding the trees and the grass and the houses and all I can see are the lights in the houses, coming to me through the darkness, from a long way away. I stop and listen . . to the dark. MAN

What do you hear? GIRL I hear the trees crying aloud, the wind willowing around the house, cold, with long fingers, touching me. MAN

(music of night beginning) And does it touch you? GIRL

(frightened, about to cry) Yes, yes, it touches me. I can feel its hands climbing up my legs, I can feel its breath on my back, its arms are winding around me, I can't breathe, I can't breathe! I . . Breathe! Please. MAN

It's just the night. The sun's gone down. No more. It's just the breeze saying hello, touch his hand, he's lonely too, and he doesn't hurt. There's no one to walk the grass with him between the sidewalks when the sun's gone down. He must walk alone then, to cool the earth, to put the trees to sleep, to gentle the lakes, to quiet all sounds . . all . . sounds . . until the dark bends down . . and the day begins . . (music of night transformed into music of day) Are you afraid of the night? GIRL No. MAN

And you won't run to find a place away from it? 116

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA GIRL (laughing} Under my covers and my eyes closed tight? (He smiles.) No. Walk with me. MAN

Where? GIRL

In the rain. MAN

Are you afraid of the rain? GIRL Not always. Sometimes. MAN

All right. We'll walk. (They begin to -walk in the rain, this time the rain performed entirely by the musician, rain that moves from showers to thunderstorms. ) GIRL Oh, look, the robins are all hiding under the branches. (He looks, smiles; they walk.) Spring rain . . I like that, so warm, soft, so quiet. I can almost feel the summer in it, tell me that it's coming, soon, soon . . (They walk.) Do you think we should go in? It's raining harder. MAN

Here, I'll put up my umbrella, (mimes it) GIRL All their heads are under their wings. They're frightened. The North Wind doth blow And we shall have snow And what will the robin do then, poor thing? He'll sit in the barn, And keep himself warm, And hide his head under . . Let's go in, I'm getting wet. MAN

Not yet. Finish the poem. This way. GIRL

And hide his head under his wing, poor thing, (holding tightly to him) What's that noise? MAN

(over the roar of the flood music) What? GIRL

That sound, what is it? 117

FREDERICK GAINES MAN

River. GIRL Why is it so loud? (The man has led her to a high bluff, points out at the flood.) It's flooding. MAN

Yes. GIRL

So dirty, brown, so loud. Look, whole trees floating, parts of fences, houses, let's go in. Please! It's coming closer. Please, let's go in. The bank! The bank is falling in! MAN

Keep ahold of me. GIRL It's going to get us! Run! Run! MAN

Quick, into the boat! (He helps her into the boat and they mime the power of the current.) GIRL We're going to sink — help me! MAN

Sit down! Get low in the boat! (He forces her down, the boat eventually rights itself, and they are safe; the rains begin to slacken, the floods recede.) GIRL

A rainbow. (She points off, they look, we hear rainbow music, the boat bumps into the shore.) MAN

You're wet. GIRL Yes, soaked. MAN

Come, we'll find dry wood and build a fire. GIRL Are you sure we should? MAN

Won't take long. (He gathers wood for a fire, lights it; an actor becomes the fire.) GIRL

Be careful. 118

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA MAN

You won't get dry standing so far away. GIRL

Oh, I'm fine, really I am. MAN (moving her closer) Nonsense, you'll catch your death of cold in this weather. Now, stay right there. GIRL (very apprehensive) All right. (She, gingerly, extends her hand toward the fire.) MAN

Feels better, doesn't it? GIRL A little. You're not making it bigger, are you? MAN

Keeping it going. That's all. Don't want it to go out. It's almost dark. GIRL (looks at the dark) Yes . . (smiles) I remember. MAN

Turn around now, this half's dry. GIRL (turning around) Don't make it any bigger, please. MAN

I'll be careful. GIRL It frightens me. MAN

I know. Don't sit too close. GIRL You told me to. You said to get close to it if I wanted to get dry. MAN

Yes, but be careful. GIRL You said it wouldn't hurt me, not to be afraid of it. (doesn't notice the fire leap to her dress) I'm trying not to be. I'm trying to pretend that it just isn't here . . MAN

But you have to watch it. 119

FREDERICK GAINES GIRL

I won't! I won't look at it and . . my dress! My dress's on fire! (Screams, panics; the man puts it out with water.) It's gone. MAN

Is your dress hurt? GIRL

Just a little. Mother can fix it. It won't show a bit. MAN

It's time for you to go home, then. She'll be wondering where you've gotten to. GIRL Walk me? MAN

Yes, I'll walk you. (They walk quietly; night music.) GIRL Who are you? MAN

No one you'd know. GIRL But you're a friend now. MAN

Not a friend. You won't see me again, not looking like this. GIRL But you must have a name. MAN

Many names. GIRL Tell me just one. MAN

You've already told me three of them. (She looks at him, remembers.) GIRL I don't want to die. MAN

You won't . . for a while. GIRL Then why are you here? MAN

Does Death come only at the end? GIRL Why else would he come? 120

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA MAN

Because you're afraid of living. GIRL I can't help it. MAN

Yes, you can. (She looks at him.) Think of what you want tomorrow to be. GIRL

I want tomorrow to be . . (as she creates it, the man disappears) cool in the morning and hot at noon. I want winds from the west and clouds in the sky, I want . . I want rain in the evening, night at the end, birds sleeping, I want summertime . . (looks, sees that Death has gone, moves directly into a song)

MEN AND MAN: THE WAR GAME A scene for three actors. The scene begins -with the sound of machine-gunlike drumming, then the -whistle of an overhead shell; two men enter from opposite sides of the stage; both take cover in the same shell hole. CAPTAIN

Comin'this way . . ! SERGEANT

Hit it! (They cover up, wait until after the explosion.) CAPTAIN

You hit? SERGEANT

Okay. You? CAPTAIN

Fine. Know where we are? SERGEANT

(laughs) Exactly. A war. CAPTAIN

Very amusing. SERGEANT

I get my laughs. CAPTAIN

Looks like no man's land. SERGEANT

About it. 121

F R E D E R I C K GAINES CAPTAIN

If you can give me a little light, I'm going to try and get a fix on this map. SERGEANT

Why bother? CAPTAIN

I want to get out of here. SERGEANT

The line that was there when you left has been changed a dozen times in the last hour. CAPTAIN I doubt that. SERGEANT

Fine, doubt it. I'm staying here. CAPTAIN What's that? SERGEANT

I'm staying. CAPTAIN

I wasn't aware you had the choice, sergeant. SERGEANT

(laughs) You commanding me, are you? CAPTAIN

Is that so humorous to you? SERGEANT

Yeah, yeah, it is. Two of us out here, a hundred of them, and you're still remembering the West Point manual. CAPTAIN

What has West Point to do with it? SERGEANT

Nothing, nothing. Only find yourself another dummy. Me, I'm staying. CAPTAIN Do you think you'll enjoy the jerry company? SERGEANT

About as much as they enjoy mine. CAPTAIN And how long do you think you can hold out with one rifle? SERGEANT

No rifle. CAPTAIN

What do you mean? 122

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA SERGEANT

There's nothing in here. Empty. When they walk in, the hands go up and I walk with them. CAPTAIN Their prison camps aren't a lark, you know. SERGEANT

You think this is? I'm staying. CAPTAIN

Why'd you bother to come? SERGEANT

(laughs) Come? Hell, you think I volunteered? CAPTAIN

Draftee. I might have known. SERGEANT

That means you're not, I take it. CAPTAIN

When Black Jack raised his arm and gave the call, I came. I didn't ask why or when or would I get home. I came. SERGEANT

Black Jack who? CAPTAIN

Pershing. SERGEANT

Oh, baby. CAPTAIN

There's the difference between us, sergeant: I know and honor the man I serve. SERGEANT

Yeah, well, congratulations, cap'n. You been out here too long, friend, too long . . (A noise is heard; they tense.) No ammo, no ammo. CAPTAIN

Get back in here, sergeant. SERGEANT

See you, loony. (Starts to surrender, but a Green Beret tumbles in.) What . . ? BERET

Move over, friend, they're thick. CAPTAIN

Jerries? 123

FREDERICK GAINES BERET

(to sergeant) What's with him? (The sergeant grins, taps his head.) VC, Cap'n, charley and getting close. SERGEANT

Wait a minute. BERET

What's with you guys? SERGEANT

Who you with? BERET

Special forces, Green Berets. SERGEANT

Okay, but what war? BERET

(to captain) Battle fatigue, sir? CAPTAIN

What war, "Green Beret"? BERET

Vietnam. CAPTAIN

Vietnam. SERGEANT

China? BERET

China? Hell, no! Vietnam. Oh, Christ, I'm gettin' outa here, (leaving) I'll send a corpsman back. CAPTAIN Don't bother. SERGEANT

M-l, friend? BERET

You guys been out here too long, (leaves) CAPTAIN

A long time too long. (Looks at the sergeant; they begin to laugh, get the giggles.) Where did you get lost? SERGEANT

Belleau Wood. CAPTAIN

That one again. 124

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA SERGEANT

Yeah, guerrilla stuff, you suppose? CAPTAIN

Who cares? SERGEANT

Yeah, who cares. Staying? CAPTAIN

What's to look forward to? but that Vietnam? SERGEANT

Where is it? CAPTAIN

(laughing) I haven't got the faintest. You? (They laugh again.) SERGEANT

What now? (silence) CAPTAIN

I don't know. What now? GODS AND PRETENSE: ICARUS A scene for three actors and an actress. ICARUS Dad, I'm going to fly! DAD Oh, boy, have I got one. ICARUS No, Dad, I've got it all figured out. DAD Right. Keep at it, son. ICARUS I'm going to get these feathers, see, and a lot of wax and a big high cliff DAD And fly? ICARUS

Right. DAD

Where to? ICARUS The sun. 125

FREDERICK GAINES DAD Write me. ICARUS Come with me, Dad. DAD Over the cliff? ICARUS

To the sun. DAD It's not the sun, son, that bothers me; it's the cliff. Now aerodynamically . . ICARUS You will do it though, won't you? DAD What am I? Crazy? What would your mother think? (pause) Your mother . . I'm crazy. (They begin assembling their wings, etc.) HERA Zeus, what are you doing? ZEUS Studying. HERA Studying what; you know everything. ZEUS

Do I? HERA

Of course, dear, all of the gods know everything. ZEUS

Do you? HERA

Everything. ZEUS Then, could you tell me what that idiot's doing with my pigeons? (They peer down at Icarus and Dad.) ICARUS

Here, I go! (making his run) DAD Oh, well, why not? (shrugs, follows him) HERA They seem to be flying.

126

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA ZEUS That's what I thought. But when I made it, I thought I said only birds could do that. HERA Don't you remember? ZEUS I'm trying, I'm trying, (trying to remember) ICARUS

It works! It works! DAD Wouldn't you know. ICARUS I'm heading for the sun. DAD Look, son . . (Icarus zooms upward.) ZEUS I remember! HERA What, dear? ZEUS About flying. They can't. That's why I gave them legs. HERA

Gave who legs, dear? ZEUS

Man. HERA

Oh. (slight pause) Why? ZEUS So he could walk. HERA

No, dear, why not wings? ZEUS If he could fly, he'd see us. HERA True. Well? (Zeus turns to Icarus, who has nearly reached up to his level. Zeus levels a finger at him.) ZEUS ZZZZap! (Icarus starts to object but doesn't, sinks slowly.) HERA

Haven't I seen him before? 127

FREDERICK GAINES ZEUS Yes. HERA

Well? What was his name? ZEUS

Lucifer. HERA

Oh, silly. That's not a Greek name. ZEUS My dear, the whole world isn't Greek. HERA

True. DAD

(merrily flying around) The question now is . . how do I get down? Son? (Looks up to locate Icarus, starts to reach out for him, but Icarus keeps right on falling; watches him fall all the way to the earth and hit, looks at the audience.) Well, he got there from the looks of him. Wonder if he learned anything? Besides how to fall? Think I'll look for an airport.

EPILOGUE AND ADMONITION: THE CRIPPLES A scene for two actors or actresses. The white in this scene could be played by either a man or woman. The scene begins with the black attendant pushing the elderly white out onto his balcony in the wheelchair. WHITE

Closer, closer, no, not there. For heaven's sake, man! Can't you do it, idiot? I'd think after all of these years . . SERVANT Yes, sir, sorry. Slow today. WHITE Molasses, molasses! There, there, firmly. SERVANT

(setting the brake) That's all right, sir? WHITE

How many times, after supper, have you brought me out here? SERVANT Many tunes, sir. WHITE Many. If I didn't think it'd indicate a kind of preoccupation on my part, 128

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA I'd tell you how many times, exactly how many times. I can add. I can subtract. Are you going to say I can't, boy? SERVANT

No, sir, not that. WHITE

(tapping his head) This never slows down, boy, never. Now. (Servant nods as he arranges the blanket over his knees.) Yes, yes, fine, that'll do. Now, son, the mark of a good servant, a truly good servant, is memory. Remember how he takes his coffee, when he wants his cigar, his wine, whether or not he prefers a draft. You understand? Good. You've been with me some time, Howard, some time. I'd hope you would have learned all of these little things by now. Too busy learning the big things, eh? (laughs) SERVANT

Yes, sir. WHITE

Well, then, the blanket's fine, where's the paper? SERVANT

Right here, sir. WHITE You see, you are a good servant when you want to be. SERVANT (opening the paper) Summaries first, sir? WHITE

Yes, Howard, yes. (settling in, enjoying) SERVANT

"Investors were in a buying mood most of last week on the over-thecounter market. Had it not been for a decline on Friday . ." WHITE

(impatient) Yes, yes. SERVANT "The National Quotation Bureau's index of thirty-five industrial issues traded over the counter rose and the trading was described as very good." WHITE

Get on with it. SERVANT

(searches for a moment, finds it) "Cyplex, up one and three-eighths, international Electronics Corporation, two and one-half." WHITE

Not bad, not bad. (reflects) Not bad at all for Friday. All right, go on. 129

FREDERICK GAINES SERVANT

"Observations taken at noon Greenwich Mean Time, Friday, April twenty-first, London, local time twelve noon, temperature: seventy-three; Paris, local time one P.M., temperature, seventy; Oslo, local time one P.M., fifty-nine . ." WHITE Ah, Oslo, Oslo. Air's sweet in Oslo at fifty-nine degrees, Howard, sweet. Sugar candy. Crisp. Crisp, breathe it in, different man, younger man. (slight pause) Never been in Oslo, have you? SERVANT

No, sir. WHITE

You're a damned fool not to go. Oslo . . Nineteen twenty-eight. God . . good years, (slight pause) All right, all right, don't wait for me. I'm just an old man dreaming . . (laughs) pretending. Go on. SERVANT

(the comics') Well, sir, she was standing there, holding this note . . WHITE

I remember. Go on. SERVANT

Yes, sir, well, this pretty young thing . . WHITE

Jinx! Jinx, for God's sake! Go on! SERVANT

Well, she is saying to Mary Worth: "Did you see Dan, Mrs. Worth? What did he say?" And Mary Worth says to her, "I saw him, Jinx . . dashing out with a suitcase!" Exclamation mark. "And he left this note on the door of your apartment. And the note it says . ." WHITE

(caught in the story) Oh, God, I can imagine. SERVANT

" 'I have gone to my club, my lawyers are Robert and Daniel Brakeman, you may contact them about . . '" WHITE

(impatient, angry) All right: About the divorce! Get on! What's Jinx say? SERVANT

She says, "No!" Exclamation mark. "I'm not making the first move!" Exclamation mark. "He can call me!" Exclamation mark, (long pause) WHITE

Stupid old woman. Stupid old . . (very angry at her) Why doesn't she 130

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA keep out of other people's lives? Always poking in, having to help a damned hand . . ! Ah, throw it away. I don't want to hear any more. (mumbling) Bungling old lady, stupid, meddling old maid . . or whatever . . SERVANT Front page, sir? WHITE

Throw it away — all of it! There! Over the balcony! (Servant does.) Yes! Damn her! (pause) Front page, front page, hell! What does it matter. Stocks up fractionally — that tells me the front page. SERVANT Yes, sir. (long pause) WHITE

(who has been thinking, angrily, about Mary Worth) Well?! SERVANT Sir? WHITE

Damn you, boy! Have you no mind at all?! My neck, my neck! SERVANT Yes, sir. (moves to begin massaging his neck) WHITE After all these years, Howard — ah, good, good, yes, there — after all these years, every night —little more there, yes, yes, ah . . (During this massage, we hear the confession; no reaction from the servant.) I confess to nigger, for having thought it, for having said it, for wanting to shout it in his stupid face; I confess to wealth, to generations of comfort, of not knowing hunger, of how to spell it or what it tastes like or why it's there; I confess to fear, of the black streets, of the blacks who walk them, walk them as I drive by, of the boys who grin at me, daring me, daring me, hurrying me, pushing me back to white land, to white city to white light; I confess to ignorance, of Douglass, of Booker T., of men whose names I can't remember, can't spell, aren't interested in, have helped to cut from books, from me. I confess to pissing into a sewer that washes black streets, of pissing into an air that blacks must breathe; I confess to laughter at the softtongued speech of the Uncle Toms, at the floor-rolling churches, at their deacons, at their off-colored skin, yellow and brown and with red hair, blonde hair, at the blood they carry of my family, of the beds that broke them open, bleeding, crying, under my fathers. I confess to pride at saying this, all of this, at believing that these words are enough, to free me, to let me sleep. I confess that I feel free now, free to forget all I've seen, all I've

131

FREDERICK GAINES smelled, read, tasted; I confess to whiteness, (to the servant) Why'd you ask "Front page, sir?" SERVANT I wasn't sure, sir. WHITE

Sure, hell! I know why! Wanted to read all of that, didn't you? Read and watch my face? Baltimore, Washington, Chicago, Daley and shoot to kill -all of it! SERVANT

No, sir. WHITE

(laughs) Keep rubbing, son. (slight pause) You lied to me, didn't you? SERVANT Whatever you say, sir. WHITE

I say . . blacks are liars. Howard told me that. But Howard is black, therefore . . he lies. Therefore, blacks are not liars, therefore, he tells me the truth: blacks are liars. (Laughs. While the servant continues massaging the master's neck, he delivers the black confession, to be written by one of the black actors in the company. When it's over, they stop, long pause, looking off.) It's getting dark. Sun's down. I'm cold, Howard. SERVANT Yes, sir. WHITE

Wheel me in. I want to sleep. I'm always sleepy after my massage. SERVANT Yes, sir. (wheels him in)

Play Four FAIRY TALES AND PARABLES: THE JUMPING MATCH A scene for the entire company. CHAUTAUQUA

In times before, it was nothing for a man to speak to a fox, or a bird to a cow or me to you, so we should think nothing of a story with a frog, a flea, a grasshopper, a King and a Princess. It began like this. A King offered his daughter to the person who could leap the highest. No one both132

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA ered to ask why it was important to be the highest leaper, the fact that a Princess was offered was reason enough. FLEA (talking to his competitors) Well, you know, it's nice that you could come, probably don't get out very often, but it's too bad too, because the King's only offering one Princess this season and I, obviously, will win her. GRASSHOPPER

You talk very loud, but talking never won you anything. You want me to leave the prize to you without trying and for all I know, your greatest leap is only half of my smallest one. FLEA You think so? GRASSHOPPER

I would say: highly probable. I mean, everyone knows that grasshoppers can hop, it's part of our name, but a flea . . You can crawl and bite and all that, but leaping is another matter, (to the frog) Right? (Frog says nothing.) GRASSHOPPER

I have an idea that he's the one to worry about. Look at those legs. FLEA

Yeah, but look at that belly. GRASSHOPPER

Hey, frog, he says you don't scare him. How does that make you feel? FROG

Crrrk. GRASSHOPPER

Sociable, isn't he? FLEA Well, I never knew anyone who ate flies for breakfast who was. KING What do I need to say? My daughter to the winner. Only three of you? I'd hoped for more, but it's a slow season. Will you present yourselves to the court? FLEA You know it, King. I'm one hell's angel of a flea. Family's the oldest in Europe. Dined off the crowned heads of France for generations, known princes, generals, prime ministers — kings too. No halfbreeds in my line — all aristocracy. (Court applauds.) GRASSHOPPER

If you expect me to bow and scrape before you just because I've been in133

FREDERICK GAINES

vited to speak, you're greatly mistaken. Your kingdom doesn't interest me, your Princess only vaguely, and this contest not at all. I am, you see, divine. My father's father's father was with that horde that God sent down to Egypt. I have lived in the royal granaries since and have no need of additional honors. I come, primarily, out of curiosity, (jeers and boos) KING Well, I certainly hope you don't win, although, of course, my daughter will love and cherish you if you do, because that's part of the contest. Wasn't there a third one? FROG Crrrk. KING

Yes, well, all right. I suppose we are ready to leap. Contestant one. CHAUTAUQUA

The flea stepped up, gleaming in his brittle shell, his aristocratic brown, and he accepted the cheers of the court. The crowd hushed, the flea tensed and jumped and . . disappeared. Lost from sight. The grasshopper insisted that he be disqualified and despite the court's pleas, the King was forced to comply. Next, the grasshopper peeled down to his divine shorts of pale green. He ignored the muttering of the crowd, determined to quiet them all with his fantastic effort. He leaped . . the wind caught him . . let him down . . a cow's hoof descended, no more grasshopper. All eyes turned to the frog. The King signaled to the sergeant at arms to blow the command. The frog opened his eyes, blinked, seemed about to go back to sleep. The King, curious, nudged him with his boot, the frog croaked, shivered, and leaped . . right onto the lap of the Princess. The King arose. KING The lap of the Princess is certainly the highest place any man could aspire to. I judge that the frog has won and shall have the hand of the Princess. CHAUTAUQUA

And thus ends the story of the flea, the grasshopper, and the frog. The flea remained popular at court, was appointed Secretary of State. The grasshopper—gone. The frog, married to the Princess, is bathed and fed by royal hands. But all of this says nothing of the Princess who had to marry a frog.

134

KINGS AND QUEENS: THE DECISION MAKER A scene for the company. GIRL I certainly didn't intend to take up your valuable time, Mr. President . . PRESIDENT

(getting his shoes shined) Young lady . . (to the shoeshine boy) That's cordovan, boy, cordovan, (to the girl) Young lady, when I took this office, when I took that solemn pledge as President of these United States . . (The general enters, hands him a communique.') General, thank you. Immediate? GENERAL

Yes, sir, very immediate, sir. PRESIDENT

Right away, (to her) . . as President of these United States, I vowed that my door —that door —would always be open to the people of these United States, (to the general) NATO? GENERAL

Situation Grave, Mr. President. PRESIDENT

Notify General Hershey. (to the shoeshine) Not a high gloss, son, gentle, gentle, (chuckles) I'm not Red Astaire, am I? SHOESHINE No, suh. PRESIDENT

Now, all it takes, young lady, is organization and let me tell you, we are organized. This office has at its disposal the greatest team, all pulling together, to serve the people of these United States, and, indeed, the people of the free world, that the free world has ever seen . . a team . . like this one. (stops, tries to figure out what he's said) Does that make sense? (chuckles) Yes, of course, it does. (Hershey enters.) Ah, General Hershey. Mobilize the entire country, ration stamps, aluminum gum-wrapper drives, milk-weed collections for Mae West — you know the routine — just like before, (solemnly) Situation Grave. (Hershey exits.) GIRL

But I can see that I'm here at a most inopportune time. PRESIDENT

Nonsense. The business of this office is the people, we've nothing to hide. Now! What would the National Scholastic like to ask me? 135

FREDERICK GAINES GENERAL

Mr. President, shall I get the bagman? PRESIDENT

(looking around the office, not sure what to say) Well, sure, it's a little messy around, bring him in. GENERAL

Yes, sir. (He exits.) PRESIDENT

Now, young lady, in answer to your question: in the light of recent events . . What was your question? GIRL I hadn't asked it. PRESIDENT

(chuckles') Little ahead of myself there, hah hah. But, there is always an answer. If we look far enough ahead, there is always a light at the other end . . of the tunnel. Right? GIRL Yes, sir. We at National Scholastic would like to know what your plans for the draft are? PRESIDENT

Aren't we fortunate that you are here? Aren't we fortunate that you are here at this very time. That man, young lady, that man is General Hershey and I can think of no man better qualified to answer that question. What happened to General Hershey? SHOESHINE Mobilizing the country, sir. PRESIDENT

Oh, yes. (The general enters with the bagman.) GENERAL

Here he is, sir. PRESIDENT

(to the bagman) General Hershey, this young lady . . General Hershey? GENERAL

No, Mr. President, the bagman. PRESIDENT

He looks for all the world like he's in the army. GENERAL

He is in the army, sir. PRESIDENT

(completely puzzled) Oh. Well, you can just empty all the ashtrays, rest

136

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA of the stuff into the wastebasket, be sure and check with clearance, might be a top-secret cigarette butt, (chuckle, chuckle) GENERAL

No, Mr. President . . (whispers) the bagman. (The President sits waiting for the explanation to be finished, totally in the dark.) With the electronic activation equipment to energize the strategic capabilities of our nuclear retaliatory forces. (The President nodding sagely, no further along. Pauses, makes his decision, believing a decision solves all indecision. ) PRESIDENT

Do it then, son, do it. (the shoeshine speeds up.) Not you, boy, gentle, gentle. BAGMAN

Do it, sir. PRESIDENT

Do it, yes. Acterize the enegetter. BAGMAN

Oh. All right. Just take a minute, sir. PRESIDENT

Where's Hershey? GIRL Should I get him, sir? PRESIDENT

You stay right where you are, National Scholastic. Wings, I want a Hershey. GENERAL

But, sir . . PRESIDENT

I don't care what he's doing: I want him here, (grins at the girl) Want a Hershey bar. (nudges her, chuckles) GENERAL

Yes, sir. (exits') PRESIDENT

Hope it doesn't . . disillusion you seeing this side of me, the . . uh, the firmness, the, uh, figure of authority, the, uh, what's the word I'm searching for, the, uh, the martinet, yes, the iron hand. You see, young lady, the office of the President is, uh, a little like God . . (reassuring smile) not really, of course. No priests, (laughs) Little in-joke there. But, as with all humor, a kernel of truth underneath. I must be able to make 137

FREDERICK GAINES decisions quick as quick-snap-one-two-three and, of course, that intractable quality is not always easy to admire. You understand? GIRL Yes, sir. PRESIDENT

Now, about the draft . . (pondering) The draft . . (long silence) That was your question, wasn't it: the draft? GIRL Yes, sir. PRESIDENT

Yes, of course. What about it? GIRL What are you going to do about it? PRESIDENT

What am I going to do about it? (pause) Hershey! HERSHEY

(running in) Yes, Mr. President? PRESIDENT

You're not going to draft this girl, are you? HERSHEY

Sir? PRESIDENT

Am I the only one around here who hears my questions?! (deafening the shoeshine) HERSHEY

We don't draft women, Mr. President. PRESIDENT

Well, why not?! HERSHEY

(completely confused) Well, sir . . PRESIDENT

(to the shoeshine, who is trying to keep out of the area and still shine his shoes) Made a little boomer there, didn't I? SHOESHINE

(eyes watering) Oh, no, sir. PRESIDENT

Who are we to say that the President of these United States should not react, gastronomically, in the like manner of all like men. (going into his rostrum style) When man eats, he digests. When he eats beans, he boomers. It's as natural as . . Yes, Hershey? (Hershey's conferring quietly 138

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA with the girl.) Hershey?! No hanky-panky in this office, no, sir. No hankypanky in the office of the President. See that great seal? Bugged, television camera right there, (his joke) Hi, Allen. BAGMAN

It's ready to go, sir. PRESIDENT

(explaining to get his laugh) Allen. Funt. Allen Funt. "Candid Camera." (They laugh politely; to bagman) Fine, fine. GENERAL

(entering with a Hershey bar) Here you are, Mr. President. PRESIDENT

What's this for? GENERAL

You asked for it, sir. PRESIDENT

(reading the name on it) Letter for you, Hershey. (gives it to him) Well, young lady, I hope that clears up your question. BAGMAN

Waiting, sir, waiting. PRESIDENT

Fine, fine. I'm waiting, young lady. GIRL

About the subject of the draft, sir . . PRESIDENT

(his cool collapsing in a tantrum) Drop it, just drop it!! BAGMAN

Sir? PRESIDENT

Drop it —you too! (The bagman begins the process of dropping the bomb.) I'm surrounded by a bevy of nincompoops. Eating candy bars on government time. What this country wants is a return to the old days. Nickel beer, (turning suddenly on her) You of age, young lady? GIRL

(wanting to escape) Thank you very much, sir. PRESIDENT

Any time, Scholastic, any time. The office of this door . . The door of this office is always open. Always, (seeing her to the door) You are of age, aren't you? GIRL

Yes, sir. (leaving) 139

FREDERICK GAINES BAGMAN

She's on her way! PRESIDENT

You think I haven't got eyes?! BAGMAN

Yes, sir. (not sure what to say) Need me for anything else, sir? PRESIDENT

What else do you do? BAGMAN

Nothing, sir. PRESIDENT

Well, if you've got the ashtrays, take the day off. Something of a holiday today. BAGMAN

(mystified) Yes, sir. (leaves) PRESIDENT

Well, generals. Our first day in office. Didn't go too badly, did it? MEN AND MAN: COURTSHIP A scene for an actor and actress and two musicians. The play begins in silence. The white musician and black musician enter with their captives tied to their wrists by a heavy dog chain: white musician with the white woman; black musician with the black man. The musicians ceremoniously bow to each other; then they signal on the leashes and all line up across the stage. WHITE MUSICIAN

(singing)

Black man, black man, want to kick us, Whip us with anger, stuff us with pus? White face, white skin, come have a feel, Just an old rag doll ready to kill.

(says) Isn't it fun? BLACK MUSICIAN

White man, white man, how is the fit Of your self-pity, do you like it? White man, white man, I know your bit, Offer us money, give us your shit. (says) No more. 140

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA

ALL (singing)

WOMAN

Black face, white face, both of you just, Will your sweet love last past the dust? White face, black face, if you say please, I know our gray god will keep off disease . . Of hatred.

WHITE MUSICIAN

Of hatred. MAN

Of hatred. BLACK MUSICIAN

Of hatred. ALL

Of hatred. (The black musician takes the black man over to one side of the stage, talking quietly to him, preparing him.) WOMAN

(singing)

Black man, I see you, Feel your eye on me, Don't think I want you Breathing black on me, Fat chance, Fat chance. I did once get burned once By one of your kind. I did once play dunce once I must have been blind. In love? With him? Once I was married, Now I am not, Now he is buried, Black is my lot, Black widow . . Black widow . . Black man you lied, Promised me kids,

141

FREDERICK GAINES

Black man, your bride's Now up for bids, Speak up. Yes, you. ( The musical line changes.) I don't want you, Don't come up, Don't smile your face at me. I don't want you, Don't come up, There's no one here but me. I don't want you, Don't come up, Forget that I am white. I want you please, Just come up, I won't even fight . . (returns to first musical line) Black was my man, Black sky above, I'll kill if I can, A black with my love. You'll see . . You'll see . . (Silence, the musicians pull on the leashes and immediately the two actors, man and woman, are straining at their leashes, trying to claw each other, circling, covering the entire stage. The musician-masters, proud, grinning, keeping them separate. Lines occur during the circling.) WOMAN

Yes? MAN

May I come in? WOMAN (to white musician) Am I supposed to know him? (The white musician nods.) MAN

Sadi, Es Sadi. WOMAN Oh. All right. Yes, please, won't you sit down? 142

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA MAN

I'd just as soon stand. WOMAN Suit yourself. MAN

I'm not interrupting anything, am I? WOMAN No. Not at all. I was hoping someone would . . stop by. (Suddenly they stop, very calm, looking at each other quietly.) Now. What is it I can do for you? MAN

The office asked if I could stop by and . . see how things are. WOMAN And ask some questions. MAN

Yes, some. WOMAN I'm sorry. You said your name was? MAN

Es Sadi. WOMAN

Oh, yes, I'm afraid my mind isn't functioning too well today. MAN

I understand. WOMAN You said the office? MAN

Yes, where your late husband worked. WOMAN Yes . . Sadi . . My husband mentioned you, I think; I wonder why? MAN

I am not from this country. He might have mentioned that. WOMAN Yes, I think that was it. From Africa? (At the name, she assumes stylized picture of Africa, pauses, then the circling attack begins again, lines very fast.) MAN

Ethiopia, yes.

143

FREDERICK GAINES WOMAN

Yes, Ethiopia, yes, that's what it was. You speak very good English, I didn't realize . . MAN

They speak it in my country. WOMAN Do they? MAN

Yes, a second language. (He has her, pulls her to him, they nuzzle, longtime intimates, closeness, no sex, having fun.) WOMAN Ethiopia, that's where exactly? MAN

Near Egypt, a little south of it. (Into her ear; she giggles.) WOMAN I'm afraid my world geography isn't what it should be. My husband . . (smiles, tickling him, gentle) believed his people were from . . Angola, isn't it? MAN

(suddenly cold to her, drawing away) Yes, we talked about that. WOMAN Did you? Hmmm. But that's about half guess, I think. He can't have been very certain. MAN

No, not very. WOMAN

(smiling to the -white musician, sure they are ahead) Was there anything specific you wanted? MAN

Am I keeping you from something? WOMAN No, no, just . . playing (sees the black musician hand him a form letter) Am I going to have to fill out one of your infamous forms? MAN

Yes, yes, I'm afraid there are a few questions . . (quickly reading his new instructions) but you can go on with what you're doing, if you like. WOMAN

I don't mind. (All this while, the black musician is -whispering additional information in the man's ear; his talk to the -woman is just a cover for it and one that neither of them cares to disguise.) 144

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA MAN

All right. Let's see. Your husband's name was . . ? WOMAN (smiling, smugly, to the white musician, laughing at their transparency) Surely they have that at the office? MAN

Yes, of course, they have. Sorry. I'll get that when I go in. And address, we would have that, age, yes, height, yes, yes, number of children . . You haven't had any children, have you? WOMAN No, no children. MAN

Fine, I knew that, I think. You really can go on with your work if you like. I can fill out the form and then just have you sign it. WOMAN I don't mind. MAN

Fine. Have you been in touch with your husband's life insurance company? WOMAN (looks to white musician for confirmation; then answers') I believe the office has. MAN

But you haven't received a check of any kind? WOMAN (again checks) No. MAN

Have you given the office a forwarding address for those checks? (Action stops; musicians call their actors closer to them, unleash them, handhold them, ready for release.) WOMAN (moving free of her handler) I will when I move . . MAN

You are moving? (When freed, springs forward; she looks at him, confidently.) WOMAN

Yes, I'm moving. MAN

Yes, I'd heard that. I hoped it wasn't true. 145

FREDERICK GAINES

WOMAN Did you? MAN

You don't have a new address yet? WOMAN

No. MAN

Is there any particular reason why you're moving? WOMAN

(taking the leash from the white musician, carrying it) No. MAN

Then why leave? WOMAN

Is that on the form? MAN

No. WOMAN

Is that all the information you need? MAN

Yes, all for now. (Starts to leave) WOMAN Say hello for me. MAN

Yes . . yes, I will, (noticing the leash in her hand, the heavy belt of the musician attached to it, freezes, recognizes its use, can't look at it) Your husband's? WOMAN

Like it? MAN

Very handsome. WOMAN

I thought you might. (Strikes him with the belt and leash across the ass; he suppresses his reaction, looking straight ahead.) MAN

Yes . . memories. WOMAN (swatting him again) Would you like it? (He protests politely he doesn't want it; she takes the belt, buckled, like a chain collar, and approaches him with it.) No. It's yours. It would be silly of me to keep it. Here, let's see if it fits. 146

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA MAN

(unable to prevent her from putting it around his neck) There must be someone you'd rather give it to . . (Trying to back away, he backs into the outstretched hand of the white musician, freezes; she slips it over his neck, the leash going from her hand to the belt around his neck.) WOMAN No, no one. There now. Like it? MAN

Yes, thank you. Native again. WOMAN Yes. (pulling sharply on the leash) Do you find it strange that I want to leave here, Mr. Sadi? MAN

A disappointment, yes. WOMAN

Sometimes there aren't any good reasons for doing things, we just do them. MAN

I wish this weren't one of the times. WOMAN

So do I . . in a way. MAN

(trying to seduce her, slowly pulling her to him by way of the leash) Can I persuade you to stay? WOMAN

Try. MAN

(still pulling her in) There is work here that needs to be done. WOMAN

Yesss. MAN

Your husband would not want you to leave his work unfinished. WOMAN

(toying with his arm) My husband had a job — not a mission. MAN

We all have a mission. WOMAN Do you think so? MAN

Yes . . yes, I think so. 147

FREDERICK GAINES WOMAN

Perhaps, (abruptly, at a signal from the white musician, moves from him) MAN

I don't seem to be very good at persuasion. WOMAN (turning back, smiling) But you are. MAN

Am I winning? WOMAN

We'll see. Tell me why you're here. That'll do it. (inviting him to come to her) MAN

(playing the shy, strong type, certain it will work) Well . . I came here as a student . . and I came into contact with the office . . and I thought that they were doing good work . . WOMAN Work that you could help in. MAN (his hands on her) Yes, that I could help with and that would help me feel more a part of the country here. WOMAN You intend to stay then? MAN

(nuzzling her) I . . I'm not sure, yet . . I hope to, yes, but . . perhaps . . well, we'll see. WOMAN

(pretending to be aroused) See if you're needed? MAN

Yes, if I'm needed. WOMAN And if you're not? MAN

I'll go back to my country. (Lifting her face up to kiss her; she looks at him, not at all involved.) WOMAN (very detached) Black man. (moves out of his grasp, moves to the white musician) This is not your country is it, Mr. Sadi? MAN

(momentarily beaten) No . . no, my visa is just for studies here.

148

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA WOMAN (sarcastic) Yes, of course. That's convenient. MAN

Why do you say that? WOMAN Just talk. MAN

I'm afraid I haven't persuaded you. WOMAN Will the office be disappointed if you haven't? MAN

Yes, yes, of course, I think so. WOMAN I don't, (attacking him momentarily) They knew I was leaving, Mr. Sadi. Leaving with then: blessing, encouragement. They don't have to worry about me now. Well rid of me. MAN

(to the black musician) What did I do wrong? (The black musician is not allowed to answer him.) WOMAN Why are you here, Mr. Sadi? They didn't send you, did they? (moving to him, playing the whore for a moment) Have those naughty men been talking about me in the office again, Mr. Sadi? What a wicked woman I am? MAN

(to the black musician) Can't you help me? (The black musician says nothing; to the woman) Should I go? WOMAN (laughs) Do you want to? MAN

I did not come here for . . WOMAN What did you come here for, Africa? Compassion? To offer the sad widow condolences? MAN

Mrs. . . WOMAN

Mrs. what? (pause) Mrs. what, Mr. Sadi? Do you even know my last name? Didn't they tell you? Oh, they're using you, Mr. Sadi. Those ol' Afro-Americans are usin' you, Africa. Think now, think, you say you

149

FREDERICK GAINES worked with my man, you knew his name, you must know mine, what is it? (Shoves him, he can't answer. She laughs, moves to sit in the lap of the white musician, places his hands on her breasts, smiling.) The white whore? (He looks up, sees them.) Yes, Mr. Sadi? MAN

You are a widow woman . . the wife of a . . fellow worker. I did not come here to laugh at you or to . . to use you. WOMAN

(spreading her legs, letting the white musician touch her) How delicate. Africans are always so delicate. Breeding, Mr. Sadi, such breeding. The race of kings. A woman would not behave this way in your country, would she? No, all propriety, all decorum, ashes and tears and lamentations. Oh, yes, the family is the center of the community, the black nation is built on respect of the woman, (laughs') MAN

You know nothing about us — nothing! WOMAN And I don't give a damn, Mr. Sadi. For you or for your blessed black history. MAN

(to the black musician) You made them afraid of us. WOMAN Afraid? Afraid of you, Mr. Sadi? Do you think I am? MAN

(going into a Deep South, Uncle Tom preacherin' voice and manner) Now, sistuh, you listen heah. Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid. Jus' you look up to hebben and see dat light, and don't be afraid. WOMAN

Get out of here, (baiting him) MAN

When ah'm tired and when ah'm weary, I thank de good lawd, dat he made me black, but, sistuh, my sistuh, don't you jes' know dat dat man up deah, he made bof you and me and, sistuh, down under, down under de skin, there we's both alike, jes' red meat and God's love, sistuh, jes' red meat and . . WOMAN My husband's dead, Africa. MAN

(dropping the accent) Does it make it easier to call me Africa? 150

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA WOMAN Should I call you nigger like a really free white would? MAN

If you like!! WOMAN Get out of here. I'm tired of all of this. I'm leaving . . unpersuaded. I'm sorry if I can't play your brave martyr's wife . . MAN

I don't know any martyrs. WOMAN Oh, God! My husband then - all right?! MAN

Your husband was black. WOMAN

Did you think I hadn't noticed? MAN

How can you laugh at it?! WOMAN At all of it! We're so damned funny —all of us! Why are we here, Mr. Sadi? Are you to lecture me? I'm really not in the mood for it. (suddenly asking for sympathy, close to him) MAN

And I'm not in the mood to be your man, your whore! (turns on her, discovers that the leash is now around his wrist and that the white musician has the other end of it, smiling at him) WOMAN No, you're in the mood for brotherhood, aren't you, Africa?! MAN

Don't call me Africa any more! WOMAN You're afraid, (slight pause, suddenly a little girl teasing him) You're afraid, you're afraid, you're afraid of Africa, (stops, vicious) You're afraid every black man you meet will say African before he says black man. Go on back to your Egyptian sunshine, Africa. MAN

Is this how you killed your husband? WOMAN Sure. Told him where he was, black man, said, Jim-boy, you're too damned white for them street niggers. They're gonna cut you good one day in your white man's coat. You've got it now, Africa. (He slaps her, 151

FREDERICK GAINES

she grins, holds his hand, caresses it.) My. Big strong buck. Go ahead, black man, have your fun. (slipping the other leash on him) I'm your toy. MAN

I'm not your Jim. WOMAN Aren't you? You all look the same to me. (The other leash on, she hops aside as he reaches for her.) MAN

Who are you? WOMAN Me? I just live here, black man, afraid of nothing. I'm a whore like the rest. They won't hurt me. MAN

And the white man? WOMAN

I am the white man. MAN

No, you're nothing. You have no people. WOMAN Do you believe that? Do you think if I hollered right now, that the Man wouldn't come help me? MAN

(to the black musician) Her husband should not have died for her. She is trash, worse. WOMAN But he did. MAN

Shit! You did it to him! (unable to move either way, caught between the two leashes) How'd you do it, whore? Make eyes? Wiggle your ass a little? Show me your ways, woman. Make me feel like a white man too. I want to know how it feels. WOMAN

You're already white and I didn't have to do a thing. MAN

(catching her by yanking in on the leash) You think you can break the black man? Kill him?! You think you can paint him with your color? Look at me! African. Yes. You call me Africa and I am. A man. A black man. I am not afraid of you. (lets her go to show his lack of fear) WOMAN

Mint julep, honey? Heah, now, just you forget about them stupid field 152

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA niggers. You and me just going to sit here nice and easy and be plantation folk, soft and quiet under the plantation porch. MAN

(pulls from the grasp of both whites, the leashes still dangling from his wrists) Yes, little Lindy Lou has done married a black man. In love with all them tales 'bout razors and gin and bucks whippin' their women. Come on, Jim honey, let me see that black hand. Let me see that fist, Jimmy; strut, honey, (has her cornered, in control for the first time) And he did, didn't he? Played that black boy, all black and anger in his hand, thick and black and bad mouthin' evra whitey that comes in his way: look out dere, here comes de black man! You stands up and I'se gonna knock you down, cause I'se Jim. I got sweet little Lindy Lou waitin' for me to home, sweet and pretty and white and smilin' so nice, jes' waitin' for me. Little ol' Lindy Lou. White stuff at home. Black and shiny with all of his friends at the office, rollin' up his sleeves, showin' his teeth, sayin': Hell, yes, I'm nigga and with soft, white meat waiting for me at home. And what you do at home, huh? Laughin' at him, talking white man at him, slummin' with your whore, teasin' with your white tongue, kicking up the sheets with your man, proud of yourself, looking at yourself in the mirror, (very close to her, controlling her physically) Got a mirror over your bed, Lindy? Do you? Hell, yes, don't think I don't know you, and so hip to the black scene, aren't you? Mrs. Civil Rights Worker. Shit! Why you messing with my black man, Lindy? In love with all that black meat swinging down there? (grabs her hand, forces it on him) Yeah. Touch. Touch me. Black. Black. Remember how it feels? Sure . . black man, black skin. Only I'm more, Lindy. I'm Africa, aren't I? Jungle? (growls, becomes a jungle cat, all the stereotyped ideas of the black sexual man) Leopard. Cat. Claws, Lindy, and I'm hung. The black panther stud from Africa. Oh, we're gonna be fine together, you and me. I'm gonna show you all them black African things. You never dreamed of them things, Lindy. Why you still living here? Like the black man, don't you, Lindy? You just about come smellin' black again, don't you? Orange cars, drunken rapes, nigger nights of sins, swirling swinging whores with pasted hair, no-assed men with razored throats, singing in alleys, fighting for your white ass. You know who's got you now, don't you? (laughs, ends with his head down, feet spread, arms outstretched with leashes dangling; then sings) There was a day when The Man came to my land; Bought with his silver, Black feet, black hearts, black hands. 153

FREDERICK GAINES

Now in the morning, We bring you your tea, Sweep out the doorways, Smile nice as can be, Bend down our heads, With kinky hair, Hold lady's bed And master's chair. On that black day when The Man came to our land, He brought us Jesus, Called us Christian man. Now in the mornings, When we say our prayers, There hangs sweet Jesus Breathing white man's air. And if we ask for Peace and liberty, He tells us smiling Just be white like me. Now is the day when We come to your land Carrying rifles In each black hand. Tomorrow morning We will take the town And if you ask us Why African gowns, Our only answer Will be the fires To burn the churches Of your funeral pyres! (The last word is screamed, then dies, then silence; he speaks as he takes off the leash for the woman.) I'll go now. (hands it to her) WOMAN (letting it drop to the floor, where the black musician will get it) I don't want that. MAN

I can't wear it. 154

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA WOMAN

(smiling, genuinely close now) Don't you feel native anymore? MAN

Not here. WOMAN Here you wear the dark suit and tie. MAN

Yes. WOMAN

The suit of respect. MAN

It's best to look that way, yes. WOMAN How does an African say . . being one? MAN

Harambee. WOMAN Harambee . . Jim was learning that at the center. MAN

I taught him. WOMAN Why? MAN

I don't know anymore. WOMAN To be African? MAN

He was American. Language couldn't change him. WOMAN

And you are not. MAN

I cannot stop being African, (smiles') I am much in demand as African. WOMAN And I am much in demand as white. Outcasts. MAN

Yes, foreigners. (Very gently they kiss; the masters pull them away, the woman going to the black musician, the man to the white musician.) WOMAN

{to the black musician) Why are you doing this to us?! 155

FREDERICK GAINES MAN

(quietly) I'm sorry this has happened. WOMAN Everyone is sorry. I want to scream!! MAN

Don't. It's over. WOMAN (to both musicians) You're ugly! You're so damned ugly! (He quiets her.) Go home, Africa, now. MAN

Are you afraid? WOMAN We're all going to die of anger, Africa, all of us. MAN

A boy in the streets asked me: "Why are you here?"; and I said: "I'm sorry." I'm sorry. Why? Why sorry? I was afraid to tell him why I came. He would laugh at me. A child . . I look at them, your children, and I think of all the words that the white man has written about them, about their streets, jungle, animals, survival . . And now they become all of those things, flaunt them. They tell me proudly, yes, I'm animal! I have to be! WOMAN (to the -white musician) You made me a whore! MAN

A child. All of you. And you will bring down the house, all about you, all of you, all of you. You cannot stop it. You cannot change. (The musicians signal their actors to follow behind them; they do; then the musicians repeat the bow that opened the scene; we hear the black man singing quietly.) There was a day when The Man came to our land; Bought with his silver . .

GODS AND PRETENSE: THE WALKING GOD A scene for two actors. ACTOR (crawling along, meets the other actor) Are you an ant? ACTRESS Well, what do you think, stupid? 156

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA ACTOR An ant? ACTRESS The Queen Ant. ACTOR That explains it then. ACTRESS Explains what? ACTOR Why I'm letting you step all over my dinner without saying anything. ACTRESS Oh. Sorry. I don't see too well, you see. I don't get out much in the daylight. ACTOR How do you get any work done? ACTRESS I don't work. ACTOR

Oh. Would you get off my dinner now, Queen? ACTRESS No need to be rude. ACTOR

You better get back underground. ACTRESS I can see I'm not appreciated around here. ACTOR You can't see. You just knocked over my cup of coffee. ACTRESS Oh. Which foot? ACTOR

Left rear. ACTRESS This one? ACTOR

Don't you know your left rear from your right incisor? ACTRESS I'm not accustomed to the necessity of self-propulsion. Down below I have servants to lift each leg for me and bring me my dinner, already chewed. ACTOR

(eating) Sounds great. 157

FREDERICK GAINES ACTRESS

It is great. ACTOR

(after pause) I hope you're not waiting for me to give you this mouthful? ACTRESS Are you going to let me die of starvation? ACTOR

Depends. ACTRESS

Depends upon what? ACTOR

What choice I got. ACTRESS

I am going to sit right down here and wait until I am served and fed. ACTOR Okay, (continues eating) ACTRESS You're not going to help. ACTOR

Nope. ACTRESS

I never should have come up here. I've heard of your kind of ant. ACTOR

That's more than I've done. ACTRESS

What do you mean? ACTOR I haven't heard of you. ACTRESS Not heard of . . I am, in all probability, your mother. ACTOR

You don't say. ACTRESS

I do say. ACTOR

Yes, I heard you. What're you doin' up here, mom? ACTRESS Well, uh, as a matter of fact, I'm on, uh, something of a state mission and, well, you see.

158

THE NEW CHAUTAUQUA ACTOR

Threw you out, huh? ACTRESS

Indeed they did not. They sent me on a most important mission above. ACTOR (noticing something above him, beginning calmly to pack up his things) What was that? ACTRESS We, down below, have felt tremors in our halls and, of course, we recognized them as the harbingers of the coming of our God. ACTOR

Yeah? Which god? ACTRESS

The God that walks. I am sent as emissary, (notices that the actor is about to leave*) You aren't staying? ACTOR Nope. ACTRESS

Well, I am. ACTOR

Yeah, well, say hello to God for me. (moving all of his things over a couple of feet) You see, Mom, up here in the light, we call those harbingers boots and when they come walking . . (watches the boot descend on top of the Queen) we walk, (looks at her, settles down to finish his dinner) Long live the Queen.

EPILOGUE AND ADMONITION: PROSPERO IN THE DAYLIGHT A scene for the Chautauqua. CHAUTAUQUA

It's over. We've come here and done our thing, and it's over. Don't believe it. You don't have to. There's nothing to sign, no sides to take, only us, you, what we've done here for an hour, together. All pretend. Not living. That doesn't happen on a stage, not anymore, not ever maybe. An hour of forget, of songs. These, our actors, are all rehearsed, those lines weren't theirs, or mine, or anyone's; but they learned them, they came here, conned you, cajoled you, yelled and sang at you, because that's what it's all about: pretend, forget. Life is out there, where you are, or now, me 159

FREDERICK GAINES

speaking to you and even these words, these apologies, are written down, put to memory, rehearsed. The castles we've built here, the clowns we've shown you, will be gone in another hour's time, a word remembered, a song, then gone. Go back there, where you live, where the street swells in this summer's heat, where it's easy to live, hour to hour, anger to anger, love to love. We'll join you there, in time.

The New Chautauqua by Frederick Gaines opened on May 31, 1968, at the AnyPlace Theatre, Minneapolis. It was directed by Joseph T. Walsh. The performers were John Jenkins, Linda Walsh, Haimanot Alemu Duki, Terry Harris, Alan Jones, Cyn Byrne, and Rise Ferster.

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