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When Lilacs Last
WHEN LILACS LAST
by
Tony Devaney Morinelli
and
the original student cast of 2010
at
The Shipley School
Bryn Mawr, PA
36 Linwood Avenue
Ardmore, PA
19003
610.348.4669
tmorinelli@verizon.net
WHEN LILACS LAST
By Tony Devaney Morinelli
And the original student cast at The Shipley School
Bryn Mawr, PA
A Play in a Montage
Cast:
JACK O'Donnell
MARIE O'Donnell
JACKIE O'Donnell, their son
JIMMY Conlin
BRENDAN Conlin, his son
CHORUS of Men and Women. The Chorus parts in this script are set up for four men and four women but the lines may also be distributed according to need.
In the optimum casting, in addition to the adult chorus, there would be a chorus of teenagers.
The text is written in dialect. What may look like misspellings are attempts to capture the working class Philadelphia speech. Thus, "himself" is rendered "hisself", "you" (plural) is "yous," "contradict" is said "counterdict."
Production Notes.
The set for this piece should be kept at an absolute minimum.
Furnishings should be no more than simple wood chairs and stools painted black.
There may also be a simple black wood table.
The curtain warmer might be a black and white projection of the Walt Whitman Bridge.
The only other projection is "Philadelphia, 1955."
Costuming as well should be simple. 1950 type clothing may be suggested by t-shirts, jeans, and "house coats" available anywhere.
Proper lighting is essential. All backgrounds should be kept at pale silver blues. Characters speaking lit accordingly.
The Chorus would be best placed below the action on the stage. They should face forward towards the audience, even though the character to whom they may be speaking is behind them.
Characters speaking lit accordingly. All monologues are delivered directly to the audience.
When Brendan calls for Jackie, Brendan stands facing out DSL. Jackie stands facing out DC.
The Chorus would be best placed below the action on the stage.
The Chorus is the Audience.
The chorus must face forward and always speaks directly to the audience even when assailing Jackie.
THE PLAY
The stage.
There is no curtain.
Before the play begins, we see :
The back wall shows a projection, black and white, of the Walt Whitman bridge.
On stage we see:
Stage right - a simple wooden table with a chair on each side, facing DS. Behind the table is a small stool or table that holds the only props needed: a six case of bottled beer and a stage revolver.
Just before the play begins the image of the bridge fades to
a projection that reads:
PHILADELPHIA 1955
We see BRENDAN in silhouette.
In the dark we hear the voices from the CHORUS.
1. Come, said my soul,
Such verses for my Body let us write,
2. (for we are one,)
3. That should I after return,
3. Or, long, long hence, in other spheres,
4. There to some group of mates the chants resuming,
(Lights up
full on BRENDAN DSL.Light gradually come up to halfto reveal the central table - CS, the kitchen
of the CONLIN'S.)
BRENDAN: (Down
stage left.
Come with me now
And let me show you
Let me show you.
Show you....
(beat)
Show you where it began
Show you how it began....
(beat)
This is his house.
Jackie's house.
(Lights up full
center stage. MARIE is at the table preparing dinner
(pantomime)JACK, JACKIE's father
enters the kitchen after his day on construction at the new bridge. JACK enters with his lunch box and newspaper.
)
JACK: Yo, Marie.
(beat)
Marie,
'Ahm home.
(beat)
(He hesitates as he enters because of the door lock.)
God damn, lock.
Gotta fix 'at lock.
(beat)
Be sure you keep 'at door
locked, Marie.
Keep it locked.
Make sure you keep it
locked.
Hear what Ahm tellin ya?
All that crud out there.
All that crap....
All 'em scum....
Never know who's tryin' ta
get in.
Ya never know.
MARIE: Yeh, Jack.
Yeh.
JACK: Ya know what Ahm sayin'?
MARIE: I do JACK,
I do,
I keep the door locked.
Don' worry none.
I keep the door locked.
JACK: Yeh, well...
Be sure ya do.
(beat)
MARIE:
How was yer lunch?
OK?
Was it
OK?
Ya like
your lunch?
JACK: Lunch?
(half beat)
Ya mean my sammich?
(half beat)
Hey, what was that you give me?
MARIE: Oh, somthin' new.
I give ya somthin' new.
JACK: Somethin' new?
MARIE: Yeh,
(half beat)
I made ya salami.
JACK: Salami?
JACK: Yeh. Well, don't get it
no more.
(beat)
That greaseball stuff...
All that greaseball stuff.
That greaseball stuff gets me here ( he thumps his chest with his fist).
Right here.(again)
Ya know.
(beat)
MARIE: Sorry, Jack.
JACK: Jus' stick with the ham.
Jus' the ham,MARIE,
The ham an' the baloney.
(beat)
An you can leave out the
cheese too
MARIE: No cheese?
JACK: No cheese,
Gives me gas.
MARIE: Sure, Jack.
OK,
Whatever you wan'
Jus' ham an' b'loney.
JACK: Yeh, jus' ham an'
baloney.
(beat)
JACK:(
continuing with his newspaper.)
They was back again taday.
MARIE: Who was
back again?
JACK: You know..
MARIE: Who?
JACK: All a
'em(
all of them)
(semi beat)
all 'em people
all 'em people.
people shoutin' and screamin'
thempeople carryin'
them signs.
MARIE:
What people?
JACK: Youknow - 'bout the bridge.
'bout what they's callin' na bridge. ( the bridge)
MARIE: Oh, Ya mean
about what they's callin'na bridge? (the bridge)
JACK: Yeh, I
mean about what they's callin' it
(beat).
(paging
through his newspaper uncomfortably.)
Even had a priest with 'em
MARIE: A priest?:
JACK: Yeh,
Some priest.
Some priest from na church.
MARIE: A priest?
JACK: Yeh, you
know. From na church.
MARIE:
But, JACK, Youdon’t never go ta church.
JACK:
Yeh, Well....
So what?
That don' mean nothin'
(beat)
MARIE:
But, you always tell me how you don' like 'em
priests...
You're always sayin'
It ain't natural.
JACK:
Whadda you talkin', MARIE?
'At don' matter,
At’s not the point!
MARIE:
I donno know JACK,
It's what you always sayin'
JACK :
What you talkin'. MARIE?
What you talkin'?
(pause)
So's anyways.
'ere was 'is here priest.... (there was this here priest.)
'is here priest.
(this here priest)
He led 'em all
Led the whole group.
Talkin' about the bridge
Talkin' about the bridge an'
what they's callin it.
The Walt
Whitman Bridge!
They was blockin’ the whole road,
Backed up all the trucks.
Stopped up tha loadin’
(Jack speaks
awkwardly in the following. He doesn't know how to express his thoughts.)
You know
(beat)
Whitman, 'at 'ere Walt Whitman.
(beat)
they says he's not right.
(beat)
You know...
(beat)
Not right
(beat)
You know
one a them that's ...
well.
....
you know.
one a them that's
(beat)
MARIE:
Whaddaya
talkin, JACK?
JACK:
that's one a
them queers!
MARIE: (stands stupefied.)
(semi beat.)
JACK:Yeh,
(semi)
You heard me.
(semi)
One a them queer.
MAIRE:
JACK !?
JACK:
(Jack, now with a certain vigor)
But ya know.
Ya know what?
They're right.
They're right, Marie.
They're right.!
(beat)
Ya know,
I don't go for that protestin' stuff
But they's right.
(beat)
Ya know,
They's right Marie.
Ya know
Ya know
look at it
I see ‘em fellas up ‘ere.
Fellas I know from na Vets.
Fellas I know from na Hall
Yeh,
I see em e'ry day'( e'ry=every)
I sees 'em up 'ere
I sees 'em
Shimmyin’ on some girder
E'ry day climb'in on some beam
E'ry day 'em fellas take 'ere lives in ner hands.
e'ry day up 'em beams.
E'ry day.
E'ry day for what?
Fahwhat? ( For what?)
Fah some faggot poem writer?
Fah some fuckin' pervert?
Fahwhat?
Tell me!
For what?
You read the papers?
(beat)
No.
(beat)
You don't.
MARIE: I dun'
know, Jack.
I dun know.
JACK: Up them
beams, MARIE.
up them beams.
Yous can see ‘em from na docks
Like bugs crawlin up ‘ere.
Up on 'em beams
Straddlin' 'em girders
(beat)
(he rattles
his evening paper.)
Damn it, MARIE
Damn it!
I seen 'em
(semi-beat)
I seen 'em
(beat)
Fall right inta da river..
(beat)]
Fall, I'm tellin' ya.
(semi beat)
Shit, MARIE
Fellas get killed.
Fellas get killed, God damn it!
Fellas get kiilled on 'at god-damn bridge.,
Fellas get killed.
They get killed.
They get killed for what?
(subdued)
For some freakin' poet pansey?
Some poet pansey!
What the hell?
(Jack opens his
newspaper.)
(pause)
(Reading the paper)
Look at this crap!
What the hell's wrong with this country?
What the hell they doin'?
Look at this!
Jus' look at this!
(beat)
Look at this here picture....
What's this colored woman on a bus?
Coloreds on buses!
Who wants to read about coloreds on busses?
Oughtta know their place.
Always makin'trouble.
Oughtta know their place.
Damn cullerds.!
Ya know,
Ev'ry body's got a place.
A place.
Know what I mean?
(beat)
(He turns to
the sports page.)
Cripes!
Look at this!
Look at this will ya?
Baseball!
Even baseball ain't sacred
It ain't sacred I tell ya.
Look what they're doin'.
What they doin' to our team.
Philly team
(beat)
Athalectics( note: the Philadelphia pronunciation of
Athletics is "ath-a-letics.")
Athaletics off to God knows Kansas
Philadelphia Athaletics.
(beat)
-Philadelphia!- not Kansas.
(beat)
Ya hear me, Marie?
MARIE:yeh, Jack.
Yeh, what?
JACK:
What?
I'll tell ya what...
Where the hell's fuckin' Kansas?
(semi-beat)
Kansas,
Philly A's in Kansas....
In Kansas.....
How can they be Philly "A's" in Kansas?
Ain't nothin' makes sense.
The whole country’s goin’ ta hell inna han’basket.
MARIE:
Kansas,
Yeh, JACK,
Kansas!
You know!
You know!
Dorothy!
You know!
Judy Garland!
Judy Garland and that little dog.
That little dog.
What was his name??
The little dog
and the midgets
and the witch!
(MARIE starts to sing off key.)
"Somewhere,
over the rainbow...."
JACK:
(JACK joins
in the final notes and continues:)
"Over the rainbow...."
(beat)
Rainbows.
Yeh.
Rainbows.
Right.
Rainbows an' midgets. (yawns)
No wonder the kid's the way he is.
(beat)
MARIE:
Toto!
JACK:
(JACK pays
no attention.)
That kid should be out workin'
MARIE:
That's his name!
JACK:
Should be out after school
makin’ a penny
a penny for hisself.
MARIE:
Toto!
(JACK
ignores MARIE.)
JACK:
Ta hell inna han’basket.
(beat)
Why ain’t he home yet?
Why ain't he home yet MARIE?
MARIE : I don’t
know.
What time is it?
JACK: After
five.
MARIE: After five
already?
(she looks
at the kitchen clock.)
Yeh.
You're home.
So's, I guess it is.
JACK:( He looks up at the kitchen clock.)
Yeh,
After five.
Where the hell is that kid?
MARIE: He’ll be
home soon..
JACK:
Wastin'his time.
MARIE: Said
somethin’ this mornin’ ‘bout stayin’ to work after school.
JACK: (suspicious)He done somethin’ wrong?
MARIE: No, Maybe
he just was stayin’.
JACK: That kid
better not got hisself in trouble.
MARIE: I’m sure
JACKIE ain’t in no trouble.
Not like him.
JACK: It’s never like ‘em.
That’s what they all say.
Can’t trust these kids.
MARIE: You know
as I think on it JACKIE said somethin’ about workin on the school paper
Or somethin’.
JACK: School
paper.
He oughtta be out sellin
papers.
Sellin papers on the
corner like I did.
MARIE: Kids don’t
sell newspapers no more, JACK.
(MARIE continues with the table)
He should be home.
He
should be home soon.
JACK: Can’t see
why he has the time to be hangin; ‘round after school.
He got time, he
oughtta be out gettin a'after school
job somewhere.
MARIE He can’t be
doing no job.
JACK: What’s
wrong with a job.
Won’t kill him.
If he’s got that kinda
time,
let him get a job.
A job.
MARIE: He'll get
' round to it.
He'll get roun'.
JACK: you spoil
that kid MARIE.
You keep treatin' him
like 'at an' you gonna turn him a sissy.
You hear what Ahm tellin'
ya.
A sissy.
He should be out
workin'
Out sellin’
newpapers.
Makin’ hisself a buck.
Doin' a job like a
man.
MARIE: These kids
ain’t like us JACK.
They got it too good
to worry about makin’ somethin’.
(JACKIE enters.)
JACK: (As JACKIE
passes, He swatshim on the back of his
head with the newspaper.) Where the hell you been?
JACKIE: I told
mom.
JACK: What!
JACKIE: I told
mom.
JACK: what?!
JACKIE: Told Mom,
I'd be after school.
(The following exchange is simultaneous.)
MARIE: Oh, that's
right he ......
JACKIE:(preempting her thought)"be
after school"
JACK: What the
hell you after school for?
JACK:You get yourself into trouble?
JACKIE: No,Pop.
I toldmom I was going to work on the school
magazine.
MARIE: I’m
sorry.
I tol' your dad it was somethin’ but I couldn’t quite
remember.
JACK: Don’t pick
up for him MARIE.(To JACKIE)
You got time to fool
with that stuff you got time to get a job,
do some work around
here.
JACKIE: They
wanted me to give them my stuff.
JACK: What
stuff?
JACKIE: You know,
the stuff I write.
JACK: You should
be helpin’ out at home.
JACKIE: Mr. Jacobs
says he wants to print it in the school magazine.
JACK: You wanna
print?
Go to work and
print.
Help your mother out
in the house.
MARIE: Gonna put
you in print, huh?
JACKIE: Yeh, he
wants to put it in the school magazine.
MARIE: All them
words.
It’s the Irish in
ya.
The gift a’ gab.
(she gives him a little kiss on the cheek)
and a bit a' the
Blarney.
JACK: Well, I
don’t want you stayin’ after school no more.
You get yourself home
where you belong.
(with disdain)
Blarney!? Just bullshit!
(JACKIE
begins to walk away.JACK grabs him by
the collar.)
Don't walk away when
I'm talkin' ta you!
(semi beat)
Tomorrow, ya get home
early and go lookin' for a part time job- ya got so much time ta kill.
Get yourself upstairs
and wash yer han’s before dinner.
To you many things to absorb, I teach, to help you become
pupil* of mine.
Yet, if blood like mine circle not in your veins;
If you be not silently selected by lovers, and do not
silently select lovers,
Of what use is it that you seek to become pupil of mine?
(*Note: Whitman writes:"Eleveof mine."But the French would be meaningless to the
audience and so the plays translates "eleve"to "pupil". )
SCENE
( Brendan
enters the moment. He calls to Jackie from the street.)
STAGING
NOTE: BRENDAN comes down stage left to the apron.He calls out to JACKIE while facing the
audience.JACKIE, in return, comes down
stage right to the apron and speaks outward.When JACKIE invites BRENDAN inside, the two meet center stage as lights
come up on them.)
BRENDAN:
JACKIE!
Hey, JACKIE!
You home?
Hey, JACKIE!
JACKIE: ( Stage right)
Hey, Yo.
BRENDAN?
(beat)
You callin' me?
BRENDAN:
Yeh,
Yo, JACKIE.
You got a minute?
JACKIE:Me?
(beat)
Yeh
BRENDAN: Can you
come out?
JACKIE: What?
BRENDAN: Yeh,
I need to talk to you.
JACKIE: Yeh, sure.
Just a minute.
(Jackie goes
toward Brendan)
(The two
meet CS.)
JACKIE: Hey!
BRENDAN: Hey.
JACKIE: Come on
in.
( The two
move the table. In effect, the table becomes Jackie's bed .BRENDAN and JACKIE sit on the edge.)
BRENDAN:Listen,
Jackie.
I was just wondering.
(beat)
We have this test coming up.
(beat)
This essay test.
JACKIE:
Yeh.
BRENDAN:Well.
(beat)
Well,
I can use some help.
JACKIE: Help?
Help ,with what?
BRENDAN: Help with
the poem.
You know,
that poem
that poem we got in school.
JACKIE: The poem?
BRENDAN:
You know.
For English. you know.
The poem
The poem about the flowers.
JACKIE: You
mean..."When Lilacs Last ..."?"
BRENDAN: Yeh,is that it?
JACKIE: "When
lilacs last in the dooryard bloomed..."
BRENDAN: Yeh,
That's it....
" When Lilacs... "
That's it
"Lilacs"
That's the one.
JACKIE:Yeh.
And you want me to help you?
BRENDAN: Well, I
know you're good at this stuff.
JACKIE: What
stuff?
BRENDAN: You
know.....
JACKIE:No,I
don't know.
BRENDAN: You
know,.....
(beat)]
Poems an' stuff
JACKIE: I try.
BRENDAN: No man,
you're good.
JACKIE: ( a silent nod)
BRENDAN: I mean,
you know,
like this poem
this poem we have to do.
You know about flowers
Flowers
and poems
and things.
(beat)
You know about things,
You know that kinda stuff.
JACKIE: (questioning)
I know what kinda stuff?
BRENDAN: You know.
(beat)
Like....
I don't hold it against you.
It's ok.
I don't mind
JACKIE: You don't
mind what?
BRENDAN: ( continuing
without hearing.)
I don't mind what the guys say.
JACKIE: What they
say?
BRENDAN: You
know....
JACKIE: What they
say?
(pause)
BRENDAN: (awkwardly) I mean....
Well....
(beat)....
Look...
i gotta pass this thing,
Pass if I'm gonna play.
Simple as that.
An' I
Well,
Well, I just don't.......
I just don’t get that stuff.
JACKIE:(resigned)
What's not to get?
BRENDAN:
Come on...
You know,,,,,
All that "meaning" and
stuff.
You get it...
You know...
JACKIE:
I get it???
I get it and you don't??
BRENDAN: I
mean,sometimes I think Ido ....
but, not really.
JACKIE: So, you
want me to help you?
BRENDAN: Yeh,
JACKIE: Me, help
you??
BRENDAN: Will you?
JACKIE:Me?
BRENDAN: Yea,
Really.
JACKIE: Really?
BRENDAN: Yeh,
(beat)
Really.
JACKIE:
So. What's the point?
What do you want me to do?
BRENDAN:
Shit man....
Give me the answers..
Give me the answers soes I can
play.... (beat)
JACKIE:
The answers?
(beat)
It's a poem BRENDAN,
there are no answers....
BRENDAN:
Come on man...
Don' gimme that shit...
What's it talkin'about?
( the
setting changes,)
JACKIE: Did you even read it yet?
BRENDAN: What?
JACKIE: The poem.
Didyou read it?
BRENDAN: Yeh, I
read some but....
JACKIE: Well,
Thats where we need to start.
(beat)
BRENDAN: Read it?
JACKIE: Yeh,
Just read it
BRENDAN: Me?
JACKIE: Yeh,
...just read it.
BRENDAN: I’m not
such a good reader.
JACKIE: I’m sure
you are.
(beat)
Here, just read.
(JACKIE
passes BRENDAN a book.It is not the
text book from school.)
BRENDAN: This isn't the right book.
JACKIE:Yes it is.
BRENDAN: No, I'm
talkin' about our poem book.
Our poem book from English class.
JACKIE: It's the
same thing.
My book has the same thing.
Here.
Look.
It's right here.
BRENDAN: Where?
JACKIE: Here.
The same thing.
(half beat)
The same thing.
(beat)
Just read it.
BRENDAN: (he takes the book.)
Oh, yeh.
Same thing.
(reading)
When lilacs last in the door-yard
bloom’d,
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d—and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
O ever-returning spring! trinity sure to me you bring;
Lilac blooming per - en - ni - al, (Brendan
stumbles over the word "perennial" )
Well, it's nothing like that
Nothing like that at all.
He's talking about Lincoln.
He's talking about something more
Something more than...
(beat)
(with
determination)
Something more!
BRENDAN: (intimidated)
Oh,
See, I didn’t get that, I….
JACKIE: Lincoln,
BRENDAN,
(beat)
Lincoln.
(beat)
He loves Abraham Lincoln.
Yeh,
he loves him.
(beat)
Loves him for what he did.
BRENDAN: Yeh, for
what he did.
(beat)
JACKIE: Yeh, you
know,
it's like...
It's like you love your folks..
(beat)
Like a father..
Like you love your father.
BRENDAN: Oh, Yeh,
Like a father.
(beat)
So, It's not...
(beat)
It's notthat other stuff.
(beat)
You know.
Like he was ....
you know.
JACKIE: Like he
was a queer?
BRENDAN: Yeh, you
know...
JACKIE: No, it's
not that.
BRENDAN:Yeh, yeh.
Ok.
(hesitantly.) Not like
he was queer.
(beat)
Now, I see.
JACKIE: Brendan?
Why did you think..?
Think it would be so easy for me?
BRENDAN: Well.
You know.
(beat)
For someone like you...
JACKIE:
Like me?
BRENDAN:
(beat)
You know....
(beat)
like you .
JACKIE:
Yeh,
BRENDAN:
(quickly)
Now, don't get me wrong...
You know...
I really....
JACKIE: No.
Never mind.
(beat)
Never mind.
(beat)
You need to pass.
Right?
(beat)
BRENDAN:
Yeh, I need to pass.
JACKIE:
You need to pass.
BRENDAN:
Yeh,
You know.
(beat)
I gotta.
(beat)
JACKIE:
That's OK.
BRENDAN: Yeh.
(beat)
Thanks.
JACKIE: Yeh,
Sure.
(beat)
(Jackie
resolves inwardly andresets
himselfto the topic at hand.)
The poem.
It's not so tough.
Not so tough
Once you get the hang of it.
It's not so tough.
See...
Poems make a lot of sense.
BRENDAN:I suppose ....
But not for me.
Not for me.
(beat)
For a smart guy like you it’s easy.
JACKIE: Not
really, you just have to take your time.
And, anyway, I’m not so smart.
BRENDAN: You got
the best grades in class.
JACKIE: But that’s
because it’s all I do.I don’t do much
else.
After all,
look at you.
You’re the
star player on every team.
You’ve got
every girl in the school chasing after you.
BRENDAN: Nah, not really.
I mean, I don't mind foolin' around with them
But,.... you know.....
JACKIE:
No, I don't.
(beat)
But I sure wouldn't mind knowing.
BRENDAN: (hesitantly)
Yeh, well.
May be I can introduce you to a few of them.
JACKIE:
OK, you're on.
BRENDAN: (quietly) Ya know..
I wish.
(quickly)
I wish I could be like you.
(quickly
resetting himself.)
Anyway.
This poem.
(beat)
This poem see.
When I read this stuff I just read what it says.
I mean, ,
You know ---
I read what it says.
But you
You see things.
More things.
You see something else.
(beat)
Damn it!
I just don't get that.
I just don't get it when a
teacher tells you
Tells you it has a meaning.
But you.
You, do.
(beat)
How do you do that?
How do you see that something else?
JACKIE: I do?
(beat)
I don't know.
I don't think I try.
It just happens.
BRENDAN: I wish I
could do that.
I wish I could.
It just seems so hard.
JACKIE:I think you just have to give yourself a
chance.
BRENDAN:Yeh, maybe.
But I’m not the book type.
You know.
JACKIE: Maybe you
just think that.
Maybe you just think that because of what they say
because that’s what people expect.
BRENDAN: What they
expect?
JACKIE: Yeh, what
they expect.
BRENDAN: What do you
mean?
What do they expect?
JACKIE: What do
they expect?:
Come on Brendan.
Think about it.
You’re supposed to be the jock,
the football star.
BRENDAN:Yeh,....
maybe.
(beat)
JACKIE: Jocks don't
like poems.
Jocks like football.
Jock's like baseball.
You're a jock.
You're not supposed to like poems.
BRENDAN: But I
don't.
JACKIE: But Brendan,
how do you know if you never tried?
BRENDAN: tried
what?
JACKIE:
BRENDAN,...
tried reading a poem!
BRENDAN: I guess I
don't.
(beat)
But you think I could?
JACKIE: Why not?
(beat)
BRENDAN: (replies with silence.)
_MARIE:
Yah know,
JACK’s a good man.
But, he gets mad if I don't keep the lock on the door.
The lock on the door.
He wants that door locked.
He's afraid for us.
Afraid of all them out there on the street.
I gotta tell ya too.
Jack's not one a them that drinks.
He don’t never drink.
Never!
Never see him down at Sharkey's
Never had to send down for him
Send for him to come home.
(beat)
Never at the tap room.
Not even a beer inna house.
Never a drinker
Never at all. (Marie moves down
to sit on the stoop.)
An' when we los' the baby...(actually
pronounced:"when we 'ossababy" -"L" is either silent or pronounced as a "w" in Philadelphia dialect. In
Philadelphia, the city is called Fih-a-def-ya.)
When we los' the baby....
He was good ta me...
(semi beat)
Good ta me..
(beat)
An' I'll tell ya more.
In all these years
In all these years
Jack never raised a han'
Never raised a han' ta me.
Never a han'.
(beat)
Yeh,
We have our squabbles.
Who don’t?
Who?
( she
addresses an audience member directly.)
You never have a fight with your husban'?
(beat)
Sure.
Who don't?
(beat)
Ahm home all day.
JACK don'liketh’idea of me workin'.
(beat)
Sometimes though,
JACK's got a temper.
Who ain't after all.
We all got our ways about us.
He jus' don' like nobody tellin''im what ta do
or,
ya know....
(beat)
Jackie?
Yeh, he’s stric(t)with Jackie. ( the "t" of strict in dialect is
not normally pronounced.)
(JACK moves to center stage as light comes up
over the table. He picks up JACKIE'S book.)
JACK:
MARIE.
Yo,
MARIE!
MARIE:
What is it JACK.
JACK:
Get up here.
(MARIE
movescenter stage.)
MARIE:
What is it JACK?
JACK:
You heard me.
Get up here!
MARIE:
What you so excited 'bout?
JACK:
(he extends
the book - "Leaves of Grass.")
You see this?
Look at this!
MARIE:
What?
JACK:
This book.
( half beat)
Found it.
Found it right here.
Right here in his room.
MARIE:
School.
JACK:
This ain't no school book.
You see what it says?
MARIE. (taking the book.)
Leaves of
Grass.
(beat)
Funny name.
Grass don't have leaves.
JACK:
What the hell's wrong with you
- look at the name.
MARIE:
What name?
JACK:
This name.
The name onna book...
MARIE:
Walt Whit....
Oh - that's the bridge guy....
JACK:
Yeh, that's right, - the bridge guy!
You heard the priest what he said.
They had all them people down there.
You know what they was talkin' about?
MARIE:
JACK, you're not sayin...
JACK:
What the hell you think I'm sayin'?
(beat)
Here, look!!
Look at this!
Look at this!!
First page I open.
You see this?!
JACK:
(Jack reads from Hymn to
MyselfHe stumbles somewhat over the words.)
I
mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning, How you settled your head
athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me,
You listenin' to this MARIE..
You listenin'...?
MARIE:
Oh JACK......
JACK:
Filthy crap!
(He
continues)
And
parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart, And reach'd till you felt my
beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.
What the fuck, MARIE?!
What the fuck??!!
(beat)
MARIE: He don' know JACK,
He don' know.
JACK: What
kinna stuff is that?
What kinna stuff!!
MARIE: He's a kid, JACK.
He's a kid.
JACK:
Who writes that kinna stuff?
Some kinna pervert.
Some kinna ....
Shit....!
No won'er! (wonder)
(beat)
Know what?!
The fellas was right.
They was right, MARIE.
It's no won'er.,
No won'er the priest had 'em all down 'ere.
Like what he said...
There's somethin' wrong with sombody who writes thiskinna stuff.
This faggot stuff.
Makes me sick
Sick to my stomach, I tell ya.
(beat)
MARIE: But JACK.....
JACK:Well,let me tell ya this.
It ain't gonna happen in my house.
Not in my house....
Why's he readin' this crap?
Some thin' not right with a kid who wants ta read this crap
(JACK
strikes JACKIE loud and hard across the side of the face with the book.JACKIE covers his face as he breaks into
tears.)
JACK:
Tell me what this is!
(JACK proffers
the book,)
Tell me!
JACKIE:
It's a book Pa.
JACK:
I know it's a damn book, you think
I'm stupid?
What the hell kin'na book is what I wanna know.
JACKIE: (sobbing)
A book of poems, Pa
A book of poems.
(MARIE is
lit stage left.Her cries break between
Jackie and Jack.)
MARIE:
O holy virgin Mary !
What am I supposed to do?
JACK:
Yeh, I know, That's what I'm talkin' about.
You think I don' know who this guy was? (he grabs him by the collar)
You think I don'know.
I heard the fellas talkin'
I know all about this guy.
Ya know what he was?
Ya know?
A goddamn pansy.
That's what.
You read this stuff
An ahl knock yer block off...
Ya hear me!
Ahl knock yer teeth down yer throat!
You read this stuff.
MARIE:
Don' let him hit the boy.
He's jus' a kid.
He don' know nothin' bout them things.
(JACK grabs JACKIE by the collar.)
JACK:
You some kinna faggot?
You some kinna faggot?
(beat)
Tell me!
Tell me!
You some kinna faggot?
You hear me?
Tell me!
Tell me ...
An' I'll kill you now.!( as he
shakes Jackie.)
MARIE:(Lit stage left)
Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
Is there somethin' wrong the kid?
Is he one 'a them not right?
Onethem not right?
JACKIE:
No, Pa,
No.
They're just poems.
MARIE:
Oh, Saint Jude,
don' let it be.
Not my boy.
Not my JACKIE.
JACK:
I don' want you readin' none a this stuff. (Rattles him)
You hear me!?
( strikes him with the book)
Not in my house!
(He becomes
far more intense.
YA hear me?!
God dammit!
(He strikes
him again with the book.)
NOT IN MY
HOUSE!
(JACK pulls
away.
JACK Takes the
book and heaves it across the room.)
(looking at the book. ...)
(Jack cries out:)
God damn
faggots!
(JACK exits.)
(JACKIE rises fromthe
floor.He is in tears.He stumbles around to find his book.His picks it up, holds it close to himself.He moves to the front steps. His head falls
into his book.)