Driving Miss Daisy

by Alfred Uhry

  DAISY: This is wrong. You have to go back to Highland Avenue!

  HOKE: Mmmm-hmmmm.

  DAISY: I’ve been driving to the Piggly Wiggly since the day they put it up and opened it for business. This isn’t the way! Go back! Go back this minute!

  HOKE: Yonder the Piggly Wiggly.

  DAISY: Get ready to turn now.

  HOKE: Yassum.

  DAISY: Look out! There’s a little boy behind that shopping cart!

  HOKE: I see dat.

  DAISY: Pull in next to the blue car.

  HOKE: We closer to the do’ right here.

  DAISY: Next to the blue car! I don’t park in the sun! It fades the upholstery.

  HOKE: Yassum.

  He pulls in, and gets out as Daisy springs out of the back seat.

  DAISY: Wait a minute. Give me the car keys.

  HOKE: Yassum.

  DAISY: Stay right here by the car. And you don’t have to tell everybody my business.

  HOKE: Nome. Doan’ forget the Dutch Cleanser now.

  Daisy fixes him with a look meant to kill and exits. Hoke waits by the car for a minute, then hurries to the phone booth at the corner.

  Hello? Miz McClatchey? Hoke Coleburn here. Can I speak to him? (Pause) Mornin’ sir, Mist’ Werthan. Guess where I’m at? I’m at dishere phone booth on Euclid Avenue right next to the Piggly Wiggly. I jes’ drove yo’ mama to the market. (Pause) She flap around some on the way. But she all right. She in the store. Uh-oh. Miz Daisy look out the store window and doan’ see me, she liable to throw a fit right there by the checkout. (Pause) Yassuh, only took six days. Same time it take the Lawd to make the worl’.

  Lights out on Hoke. We hear a choir singing.

  CHOIR: May the words of my mouth And the meditations of my heart Be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord My strength and my redeemer. Amen.

  Light up on Hoke waiting by the car, looking at a newspaper. Daisy enters in a different hat and a fur piece.

  HOKE: How yo’ temple this mornin’, Miz Daisy?

  DAISY: Why are you here?

  HOKE (Helping her into the car): I bring you to de temple like you tell me.

  DAISY: I can get myself in. Just go. (She makes a tight little social smile and a wave out the window) Hurry up out of here!

  Hoke starts up the car.

  HOKE: Yassum.

  DAISY: I didn’t say speed. I said get me away from here.

  HOKE: Somethin’ wrong back yonder?

  DAISY: No.

  HOKE: Somethin’ I done?

  DAISY: No. (A beat) Yes.

  HOKE: I ain’ done nothin’!

  DAISY: You had the car right in front of the front door of the temple! Like I was Queen of Romania! Everybody saw you! Didn’t I tell you to wait for me in the back?

  HOKE: I jes’ tryin’ to be nice. They two other chauffeurs right behind me.

  DAISY: You made me look like a fool. A g.d. fool!

  HOKE: Lawd knows you ain’ no fool, Miz Daisy.

  DAISY: Slow down. Miriam and Beulah and them, I could see what they were thinking when we came out of services.

  HOKE: What that?

  DAISY: That I’m trying to pretend I’m rich.

  HOKE: You is rich, Miz Daisy!

  DAISY: No I’m not! And nobody can ever say I put on airs. On Forsyth Street we only had meat once a week. We made a meal off of grits and gravy. I taught the fifth grade at the Crew Street School! I did without plenty of times, I can tell you.

  HOKE: And now you doin’ with. What so terrible in that?

  DAISY: You! Why do I talk to you? You don’t understand me.

  HOKE: Nome, I don’t. I truly don’t. ‘Cause if I ever was to get ahold of what you got I be shakin’ it around for everybody in the world to see.

  DAISY: That’s vulgar. Don’t talk to me!

  Hoke mutters something under his breath.

  What? What did you say? I heard that!

  HOKE: Miz Daisy, you needs a chauffeur and Lawd know, I needs a job. Let’s jes’ leave it at dat.

  Light out on them and up on Boolie, in his shirtsleeves. He has a phone to his ear.

  BOOLIE: Good morning, Mama. What’s the matter? (Pause) What? Mama, you’re talking so fast I . . . .

  What? All right. All right. I’ll come by on my way to work. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

  Light out on him and up on Dairy, pacing around her house in a winter bathrobe. Boolie enters in a topcoat and scarf

  I didn’t expect to find you in one piece.

  DAISY: I wanted you to be here when he comes. I wanted you to hear it for yourself.

  BOOLIE: Hear what? What is going on?

  DAISY: He’s stealing from me!

  BOOLIE: Hoke? Are you sure?

  DAISY: I don’t make empty accusations. I have proof!

  BOOLIE: What proof?

  DAISY: This! (She triumphantly pulls an empty can of salmon. out of her robe pocket) I caught him red-handed! I found this hidden in the garbage pail under some coffee grounds.

  BOOLIE: You mean he stole a can of salmon?

  DAISY: Here it is! Oh I knew. I knew something was funny. They all take things, you know. So I counted.

  BOOLIE: You counted?

  DAISY: The silverware first and the linen dinner napkins and then I went into the pantry. I turned on the light and the first thing that caught my eye was a hole behind the corned beef. And I knew right away. There were only eight cans of salmon. I had nine. Three for a dollar on sale.

  BOOLIE: Very clever, Mama. You made me miss my breakfast and be late for a meeting at the bank for a thirty-three-cent can of salmon. (He jams his hand in his pocket and pulls out some bills) Here! You want thirty-three cents? Here’s a dollar! Here’s ten dollars! Buy a pantry full of salmon!

  DAISY: Why, Boolie! The idea! Waving money at me like I don’t know what! I don’t want the money. I want my things!

  BOOLIE: One can of salmon?

  DAISY: It was mine. I bought it and I put it there and he went into my pantry and took it and he never said a word. I leave him plenty of food every day and I always tell him exactly what it is. They are like having little children in the house. They want something so they just take it. Not a smidgin of manners. No conscience. He’ll never admit this. “Nome,” he’ll say. “I doan’ know nothin’ ’bout that.” And I don’t like it! I don’t like living this way! I have no privacy.

  BOOLIE: Mama!

  DAISY: Go ahead. Defend him. You always do.

  BOOLIE: All right. I give up. You want to drive yourself again, you just go ahead and arrange it with the insurance company. Take your blessed trolley. Buy yourself a taxicab. Anything you want. Just leave me out of it.

  DAISY: Boolie ...

  Hoke enters in an overcoat.

  HOKE: Mornin’, Miz Daisy. I b’lieve it fixin’ to clear up. S’cuse me, I didn’t know you was here Mist’ Werthan.

  BOOLIE: Hoke, I think we have to have a talk.

  HOKE: Jes’ a minute. Lemme put my coat away. I be right back. (He pulls a brown paper bag out of his overcoat) Oh, Miz Daisy. Yestiddy when you out with yo’ sister I ate a can o’ your salmon. I know you say eat the leff-over pork chops, but they stiff. Here, I done buy you another can. You want me to put it in the pantry fo’ you?

  DAISY: Yes. Thank you, Hoke.

  HOKE: I’ll be right wit’ you Mist’ Werthan.

  Hoke exits. Daisy looks at the empty can in her hand.

  DAISY (Trying for dignity): I’ve got to get dressed now. Goodbye, son.

  She pecks his cheek and exits. Lights out on Boolie. We hear sounds of birds twittering. Lights come up brightly, indicating hot sun. Daisy, in a light dress, is kneeling, a trowel in her hand, working by a gravestone. Hoke, jacket in hand, sleeves rolled up, stands nearby.

  HOKE: I jes’ thinkin’, Miz Daisy. We bin out heah to the cemetery three times dis mont’ already and ain’ even the twentieth yet.

  DAISY: It’s good to come in nice weather.

  HOKE: Yassum. Mis
t’ Sig’s grave mighty well tended. I b’lieve you the best widow in the state of Georgia.

  DAISY: Boolie’s always pestering me to let the staff out here tend to this plot. Perpetual care they call it.

  HOKE: Doan’ you do it. It right to have somebody from the family lookin’ after you.

  DAISY: I’ll certainly never have that. Boolie will have me in perpetual care before I’m cold.

  HOKE: Come on now, Miz Daisy.

  DAISY: Hoke, run back to the car and get that pot of azaleas for me and set it on Leo Bauer’s grave.

  HOKE: Miz Rose Bauer’s husband?

  DAISY: That’s right. She asked me to bring it out here for her. She’s not very good about coming. And I believe today would’ve been Leo’s birthday.

  HOKE: Yassum. Where the grave at?

  DAISY: I’m not exactly sure. But I know it’s over that way on the other side of the weeping cherry. You’ll see the headstone. Bauer.

  HOKE: Yassum.

  DAISY: What’s the matter?

  HOKE: Nothin’ the matter.

  He exits. She works with her trowel. In a moment Hoke returns with flowers.

  Miz Daisy ...

  DAISY: I told you it’s over on the other side of the weeping cherry. It says Bauer on the headstone.

  HOKE: How’d that look?

  DAISY: What are you talking about?

  HOKE (Deeply embarrassed): I’m talkin’ ’bout I cain’ read.

  DAISY: What?

  HOKE: I cain’ read.

  DAISY: That’s ridiculous. Anybody can read.

  HOKE: Nome. Not me.

  DAISY: Then how come I see you looking at the paper all the time?

  HOKE: That’s it. Jes’ lookin’. I dope out what’s happening from the pictures.

  DAISY: You know your letters, don’t you?

  HOKE: My ABCs. Yassum, pretty good. I jes’ cain’ read.

  DAISY: Stop saying that. It’s making me mad. If you know your letters then you can read. You just don’t know you can read. I taught some of the stupidest children God ever put on the face of this earth and all of them could read enough to find a name on a tombstone. The name is Bauer. Buh buh buh buh Bauer. What does that buh letter sound like?

  HOKE: Sound like a B.

  DAISY: Of course. Buh Bauer. Er er er er er. Bau-er. That’s the last part. What letter sounds like er?

  HOKE: R?

  DAISY: So the first letter is a—

  HOKE : B.

  DAISY: And the last letter is an—

  HOKE : R.

  DAISY: B-R. B-R. B-R. Brr. Brr. Brr. It even sounds like Bauer, doesn’t it?

  HOKE: Sho’ do Miz Daisy. Thass it?

  DAISY: That’s it. Now go over there like I told you in the first place and look for a headstone with a B at the beginning and an R at the end and that will be Bauer.

  HOKE: We ain’ gon worry ’bout what come in the middle?

  DAISY: Not right now. This will be enough for you to find it. Go on now.

  HOKE: Yassum.

  DAISY: And don’t come back here telling me you can’t do it. You can.

  HOKE: Miz Daisy ...

  DAISY: What now?

  HOKE: I ’preciate this, Miz Daisy.

  DAISY: Don’t be ridiculous! I didn’t do anything. Now, would you please hurry up? I’m burning up out here.

  Light goes out on them and in the dark we hear Eartha Kitt singing “Santa Baby. ” Light up on Boolie. He wears a tweed jacket, red vest, holly in his lapel. He is on the phone.

  BOOLIE: Mama? Merry Christmas. Listen, do Florine a favor, all right? She’s having a fit and the grocery store is closed today. You got a package of coconut in your pantry? Would you bring it when you come? (He calls offstage) Hey, honey! Your ambrosia’s saved! Mama’s got the coconut! (Back into the phone) Many thanks. See you anon, Mama. Ho ho ho.

  Lights out on Boolie and up on Daisy and Hoke in the car. Daisy is not in a festive mood.

  HOKE: Ooooooh at them lit-up decorations!

  DAISY: Everybody’s giving the Georgia Power Company a Merry Christmas.

  HOKE: Miz Florine’s got ’em all beat with the lights.

  DAISY: She makes an ass out of herself every year.

  HOKE (Loving it): Yassum.

  DAISY: She always has to go and stick a wreath in every window she’s got.

  HOKE: Mmm-hmmm.

  DAISY: And that silly Santa Claus winking on the front door!

  HOKE: I bet she have the biggest tree in Atlanta. Where she get ’em so large?

  DAISY: Absurd. If I had a nose like Florine I wouldn’t go around saying Merry Christmas to anybody.

  HOKE: I enjoy Christmas at they house.

  DAISY: I don’t wonder. You’re the only Christian in the place!

  HOKE: ’Cept they got that new cook.

  DAISY: Florine never could keep help. Of course it’s none of my affair.

  HOKE: Nome.

  DAISY: Too much running around. The Garden Club this and the Junior League that! As if any one of them would ever give her the time of day! But she’d die before she’d fix a glass of ice tea for the Temple Sisterhood!

  HOKE: Yassum. You right.

  DAISY: I just hope she doesn’t take it in her head to sing this year. (She imitates) Glo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oriaaaa! She sounds like she has a bone stuck in her throat.

  HOKE: You done say a mouthful, Miz Daisy.

  DAISY: You didn’t have to come. Boolie would’ve run me out.

  HOKE: I know that.

  DAISY: Then why did you?

  HOKE: That my business, Miz Daisy. (He turns into a driveway and stops the car) Well, looka there! Miz Florine done put a Rudolph Reindeer in the dogwood tree.

  DAISY: Oh my Lord! If her grandfather, old man Freitag, could see this! What is it you say? I bet he’d jump up out of his grave and snatch her baldheaded!

  Hoke opens the door for Daisy.

  Wait a minute. (She takes a small package wrapped in brown paper from her purse) This isn’t a Christmas present.

  HOKE: Nome.

  DAISY: You know I don’t give Christmas presents.

  HOKE: I sho’ do.

  DAISY: I just happened to run across it this morning. Open it up.

  HOKE (Unwrapping package): Ain’ nobody ever give me a book. (Laboriously reads the cover) Handwriting Copy Book—Grade Five.

  DAISY: I always taught out of these. I saved a few.

  HOKE: Yassum.

  DAISY: It’s faded but it works. If you practice, you’ll write nicely.

  HOKE (Trying not to show emotion): Yassum.

  DAISY: But you have to practice. I taught Mayor Hartsfield out of this same book.

  HOKE: Thank you, Miz Daisy.

  DAISY: It’s not a Christmas present.

  HOKE: Nome.

  DAISY: Jews don’t have any business giving Christmas presents. And you don’t need to go yapping about this to Boolie and Florine.

  HOKE: This strictly between you and me.

  We hear a record of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”

  They seen us. Mist’ Werthan done turn up the hi-fi.

  DAISY: I hope I don’t spit up.

  Hoke takes her arm and they walk off together as the light fades on them. Light up on Boolie, wearing madras bermuda shorts and Lacoste shirt. He is in his late forties, waiting by the car.

  BOOLIE (Calling): Come on, Hoke! Get a wiggle on! I’m supposed to tee off at the club at 11:30.

  Hoke enters.

  HOKE: Jes’ emptyin’ the trash. Sad’dy garbage day, you know.

  BOOLIE: Where’s Mama?

  HOKE: She back in her room and she say go on widdout her. I think she takin’ on ’bout dis.

  They have gotten in the car, both in the front seat. Hoke is driving.

  BOOLIE: That’s crazy. A car is a car.

  HOKE: Yassuh, but she done watch over dis machine like a chicken hawk. One day we park in front of de dry cleaner up yonder at the Plaza and dis white man—look
like some kind of lawyer, banker, dress up real fine—he done lay his satchel up on our hood while he open up his trunk, you know, and Lawd what he do that for, fore I could stop her, yo’ mama jump out de back do’ and run that man every which way. She wicked ’bout her paint job.

  BOOLIE: Did she tell you this new car has air conditioning?

  HOKE: She say she doan’ like no air-cool. Say it give her the neckache.

  BOOLIE: Well, you know how Mama fought me, but it’s time for a trade. She’s losing equity on this car. I bet both of you will miss this old thing.

  HOKE: Not me. Unh-unh.

  BOOLIE: Oh come on. You’re the only one that’s driven it all this time. Aren’t you just a little sorry to see it go?

  HOKE: It ain’ goin’ nowhere. I done bought it.

  BOOLIE: You didn’t!

  HOKE: I already made the deal with Mist’ Red Mitchell at the car place.

  BOOLIE: For how much?

  HOKE: Dat for him and me to know.

  BOOLIE: For God’s sake! Why didn’t you just buy it right from Mama? You’d have saved money.

  HOKE: Yo’ mama in my business enough as it is. I ain’ studyin’ makin’ no monthly car payments to her. Dis mine the regular way.

  BOOLIE: It’s a good car, all right. I guess nobody knows that better than you.

  HOKE: Best ever come off the line. And dis new one, Miz Daisy doan’ take to it, I let her ride in disheah now an’ again.