by Paula Vogel
CARL: When we were at Hopkins together, I thought you were God. You could hypnotize us into doing anything, and it would seem…charming. “Carl, old man,” you’d say, “just do it.” Cutting classes, cribbing exams, shoplifting, stupid undergraduate things—and I would do it. Without knowing the consequences. I would do it.
THE THIRD MAN: Oh, you knew the consequences, old man. You knew. You chose not to think about them.
CARL: I’ve grown old before my time from the consequences, I’m turning you in.
HARRY LIME: I wouldn’t do that, old man.
(Pats a bulge on the inside of his trench coat) By the time you hit the ground, you’ll be just a tiny little dot. (Carl and Harry Lime look at each other, waiting)
And I think you have something I want. The rabbit, bitte.
CARL: NO. You’re not getting it. I’m taking it with me.
(Harry Lime puts his arms in position for a waltz and begins to sway, seductively.)
HARRY LIME: Come on, give it up. Come to my arms, my only one. Dance with me, my beloved, my sweet—
(Carl takes the stuffed rabbit and threatens to throw it out the window of the Ferris wheel. A Strauss waltz plays very loudly, and Harry Lime and Carl waltz-struggle for the rabbit. Carl is pushed and Harry Lime waltzes off with the rabbit.)
XXIX. Meanwhile, Back at Dr. Todesrocheln.
ANNA: You begin to hope that the wait is proportionate to the medical expertise.
My God. My feet are turning blue. Where am I? An HMO?
(Waits)
The problem with being an adult is that you never forget why you’re waiting. When I was a child, I could wait blissfully unaware for hours. I used to read signs and transpose letters, or count tiles in the floor. And in the days before I could read, I would make up stories about my hands—Mr. Left and Mr. Right.
(Beat)
(Demonstrates) Mr. Left would provoke Mr. Right. Mr. Right would ignore it. The trouble would escalate, until my hands were battling each other to the death.
(Beat)
Then one of them would weep. Finally, they became friends again, and they’d dance.
(Anna’s two hands dance together. She is unaware that Dr. Todesrocheln has entered and is watching her. He clears his throat. He wears a very dirty lab coat with pockets filled with paper and a stale doughnut. He wears a white fright wig and glasses. He also wears one sinister black glove. With relish, he carries a flask of a golden liquid.)
ANNA: Oh, thank goodness.
DR. TODESROCHELN: Ja. So happy to meet you. Such an interesting specimen. I congratulate you. Very, very interesting.
ANNA: Thank you.
DR. TODESROCHELN: We must have many more such specimens from you—for the urinocryoscopy, the urinometer, the urinoglucosometer, the uroacidimeter, uroazotometer, und mein new acquirement in der laboratorium—ein urophosphometer.
ANNA: My goodness.
(Dr. Todesrocheln has put the flask down on a table. Quietly, his left hand reaches for it; the right hand stops the left.)
DR. TODESROCHELN: Ja. Nowadays, we have learned to discover the uncharted mysteries of the fluids discharged through the urethra. We have been so primitive in the past. Doctors once could only analyze by taste and smell—but thanks to the advancement of medical science, there are no limits to our thirst for knowledge.
ANNA: Uh-huh.
(Dr. Todesrocheln’s left hand seizes the flask. Trembling, with authority, his right hand replaces the flask on the table, and soothes the left hand into quietude.)
DR. TODESROCHELN: So much data has been needlessly, carelessly destroyed in the past—the medical collections of Ravensbruck senselessly annihilated—and that is why as a scientist, I must be exacting in our measurements and recordings.
ANNA: What can I hope to find out from these…specimens?
DR. TODESROCHELN: Ah, yes—the layman must have his due! Too much pure research und no application makes Jack…macht Jack…(Loses his train of thought)
Fraülein Anna—I may call you Fraülein Anna? Let us look at the body as an alchemist, taking in straw and mud und Schweinefleisch and processing it into liquid gold which purifies the body. You might say that the sickness of the body can only be cured by the health of the body. To your health!
(His left hand seizes the flask in a salute, and raises the flask to his lips. In time, the right hand brings the flask down. A brief struggle. It appears the flask might spill, but at last the right hand triumphs.)
ANNA: You know, even though I really grew up in the suburbs of Baltimore, I like to think of myself as an open-minded person—
DR. TODESROCHELN: The ancient Greeks knew that the aromatic properties of the fluid could reveal the imbalances of the soul itself…
(The left hand sneaks toward the flask.)
ANNA: I’m always very eager to try new foods, or see the latest John Waters film—
DR. TODESROCHELN: Its use in the purification rites of the Aztecs is, of course, so well known that it need not be mentioned…
(The hand has grasped the flask and begins to inch it off the table.)
ANNA: And whenever I meet someone who cross-dresses, I always compliment him on his shoes or her earrings—
DR. TODESROCHELN: It is the first golden drop that marks the infant’s identity separate from the womb.
(The hand has slipped the flask beneath the table; his right hand is puzzled.)
ANNA: But still, it’s important to know where your threshold is…and I think we’re coming dangerously close to mine…
DR. TODESROCHELN: Until the last precious amber releases the soul from the body—ashes to ashes, drop to drop—excuse me—
(His left hand, with the flask, swings in an arc behind his body. He swivels his body to the flask, his back turned to us. We can hear him drink in secrecy.)
DR. TODESROCHELN (With his back turned): Ahhh…
(He orders himself. Composed, he turns around to face Anna again, and demurely sets down the flask. Its level is noticeably lower.
Anna is aghast.)
DR. TODESROCHELN: I can sense your concern. I have been prattling on without regard to questions you must surely have—
ANNA: Is that your real hair?
DR. TODESROCHELN: Of course. I can not promise results, but first we must proceed by securing samples—
ANNA: I don’t believe that’s your real hair.
DR. TODESROCHELN: I will need first of all twenty-four hours of your time for a urononcometry—
ANNA (Increasingly scared): You look familiar to me—
DR. TODESROCHELN: Although I can tell you from a first taste—er, test—that your uroammonica level is high, not unpleasantly so, but full-bodied—
ANNA: Oh, my god…I think I know who you are…you’re…you’re…
(Anna rises to snatch his toupee. Dr. Todesrocheln suddenly stands, menacing.
The light changes.)
DR. TODESROCHELN: WO IST DEIN BRUDER?
(He takes off his wig and glasses and appears as the Doctor in the first scene, peeling off the black gloves to reveal latex gloves underneath.)
DR. TODESROCHELN: You fool! You left your brother in the room alone! WO IST DEIN BRUDER?
(Music: The Emperor Waltz plays at a very loud volume.
Anna, frightened, races from Dr. Todesrocheln’s office to the hotel room. We see Carl, lying stiff beneath a white sheet. To the tempo of the Strauss, Anna tries to wake him. He does not respond. Anna takes off the sheet and forces him into a sitting position, the stuffed rabbit clenched beneath his arm. Carl remains sitting, stiff, eyes open, wooden. He is still in his pajamas. Then he slumps. Anna raises him again. He remains upright for a beat, and begins to fall. Anna stops him, presses his body against hers, pulls his legs over the bed, tries to stand him up. Frozen, his body tilts against hers. She tries to make him cross the floor, his arms around her neck. She positions him in a chair, but his legs are locked in a perpendicular angle and will not touch the floor. She presses his legs to the
floor. He mechanically springs forward. Then suddenly, like the doll in E. T. A. Hoffmann, the body of Carl becomes animated, but with a strange, automatic life of its own. Carl begins to waltz with Anna. Gradually, he winds down, and faltering, falls back to the bed. There is the sound of a loud alarm clock; the Doctor enters, and covers Carl with a sheet. Then he pulls a white curtain in front of the scene, as the stage lights become, for the first time, harsh, stark and white.)
XXX. In the Hospital Lounge.
The Doctor holds the stuffed rabbit and travel brochures in his hands. He awkwardly peels off his latex gloves.
DOCTOR: I’m sorry. There was nothing we could do.
ANNA: Yes. I know.
DOCTOR: I thought you might want to take this along with you.
(The Doctor hands Anna the stuffed rabbit.)
ANNA (To the stuffed rabbit): There you are!
(Hugs the stuffed rabbit and sees the Doctor watching her) It’s Jo-Jo. My brother’s childhood rabbit. I brought it to the hospital as a little surprise. I thought it might make him feel better.
DOCTOR: Sometimes little things become important, when nothing else will help…
ANNA: Yes.
(They pause and stand together awkwardly)
At least Carl went in his sleep. I guess that’s a blessing.
DOCTOR: If one has to die from this particular disease, there are worse ways to go than pneumonia.
ANNA: I never would have believed what sickness can do to the body.
(Pause)
Well, Doctor, I want to thank you for all you’ve done for my brother.
DOCTOR: I wish I could do more. By the way, housekeeping found these brochures in your brother’s bedside table. I didn’t know if they were important.
ANNA (Takes the brochures): Ah, yes. The brochures for Europe. I’ve never been abroad. We’re going to go when he gets—(Stops herself)
(With control) I must learn to use the past tense. We would have gone had he gotten better.
DOCTOR: Anna—I may call you Anna? I, uh, if there’s anything I can do…
ANNA: Thank you, but there’s nothing you can do—
DOCTOR: I mean, I really would like it if you’d call me for coffee, or if you just want to talk about all this…
(The Doctor trails off. Anna looks at him. She smiles. He squirms.)
ANNA: You’re very sweet. But no, I don’t think so. Not now. I feel it’s simply not safe for me right now to see anyone. Thanks again and goodbye.
(Anna starts to exit. The Doctor, wistful, watches her go. The lighting begins to change back to the dreamy atmosphere of the first scene. Softly, a Strauss waltz begins. Carl, perfectly well, waits for Anna. He is dressed in Austrian military regalia. They waltz off as the lights dim.)
END OF PLAY
And Baby Makes Seven
PRODUCTION HISTORY
And Baby Makes Seven was produced January 1984 by Theatre with Teeth at the 18th Street Playhouse in New York City. The director was Paula Vogel and the cast was as follows:
PETER
Ted Montague
RUTH
Sondra Allen
ANNA
Cary Bickley
The play was produced February 1986 at Theatre Rhinoceros in San Francisco. The director was Kris Gannon, with sets by Vola Ruben, lights by Cayenne Wood and costumes by Ann Marie Leimer. The cast was as follows:
PETER
Michael DeMartini
RUTH
Sandra Langsner
ANNA
Karen Lynn Seaton
And Baby Makes Seven opened at the Lucille Lortel Theatre in New York City, May 1993. It was produced by Circle Repertory Company under Tanya Berezin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Calvin Skaggs, with sets by Derek McLane, lights by Peter Kaczorowski and costumes by Walker Hicklin. The cast was as follows:
PETER
Peter Frechette
RUTH
Mary Mara
ANNA
Cherry Jones
FOR DAVID
CHARACTERS
PETER LEVEN: Has the appearance of a precocious child.
RUTH ABRAMS: Short, dark and intense.
ANNA EPSTEIN: A little overweight right now.
THE CHILDREN
CECIL BARTHOLOMEW: Age 9, genius IQ. Played by Anna.
HENRI DUMONT: Age 8, French accent. Played by Ruth.
ORPHAN MCDERMOTT: Age 7, with a stutter. Played by Ruth.
THE SETTING
A loft apartment in New York City. A window, which leads onto a fire escape.
THE TIME
The play takes place in the present.
Prologue to Act One
In the darkness, we hear three children talking in their beds. There is a glow from a clown night-light.
HENRI: And so that is how babies come to be made.
CECIL: Oh, God.
HENRI: Well, it is!
CECIL: You’ve got it all wrong, Henri.
HENRI: No, I do not. Do I Orphanne?
ORPHAN: I-I-I d-d-don’t kn-know.
HENRI: Well, Cecil, if you’re so smart, how do you think babies are made?
CECIL: Well, it’s actually a complicated, sophisticated process. A marvel of human technology.
ORPHAN: Umm-hmm.
CECIL: The process starts with intercourse between two humans—a male and a female.
HENRI: Get to the good part. (Laughs raucously)
CECIL: The male inserts his erect member into the female’s vagina and then begins to…uh, oscillate the member with increasing rapidity until the…uh, friction causes orgasm.
HENRI: Oh, barf.
CECIL: At orgasm, thousands of millions of sperm are released and swim their way upstream to the egg. Only one survives. It’s kind of a microcosm of Wall Street.
HENRI: This is boring.
CECIL: This is science. The sperm fertilizes the egg, which becomes a fetus, which becomes a baby, until finally, the female goes into contractions—
HENRI: Wait a minute, Cecil. Are you telling us that the baby comes out of the lady’s wee-wee hole?
CECIL: It’s not a wee-wee hole. It’s a vagina.
HENRI: Do you expect us to believe this?
CECIL: It’s the truth!
HENRI: Orphanne? What do you vote for?
ORPHAN: I vote for th-the eggplant.
HENRI: Okay. That makes two votes for the eggplant. You’re wrong, Cecil.
CECIL: You can’t vote down the truth!
HENRI: Yes, we can…This is a democracy. Maybe you came from a wee-wee hole. We came from the eggplant.
ORPHAN: W-w-wee-wee!
(Henri and Orphan begin to laugh.)
HENRI: Cecil’s a wee-wee head!
(Henri and Orphan erupt in laughter again.)
CECIL: Stop it!! Stop it!! Or I’ll make you stop!!
HENRI: Wee-wee head!!
(The kids continue to laugh. Suddenly, a door stage right cracks open in a stream of light. We see the figure of Peter, who closes the door behind him.)
PETER: All right, boys. What’s going on?
HENRI: Cecil’s a wee-wee head!
PETER: Henri. Orphan. Settle down. It’s time to go to sleep.
CECIL: Uncle Peter! Tell them! Make them stop! Tell them!
PETER: Tell them what, Cecil?
CECIL: How babies are made.
PETER: Oh. Well, uh, I think that’s something you should discuss with Anna.
HENRI: Uncle Peter, Cecil used the V-word.
PETER: The V-word?
HENRI: For a lady’s—you know.
CECIL: Vagina. Vagina. It’s not a dirty word. It’s clinical.
HENRI: That makes you a vagina head.
(Henri and Orphan erupt again.)
CECIL: Uncle Peter! Tell them! Please! Man to man!
ORPHAN: M-m-man t-t-to m-man! Mmm-hmm.
PETER: If I tell you how, will you boys settle down and go to sleep?
HENRI: All right. Just make it good…
>
PETER: All right. It’s your bedtime story. Okay? Well, when a man—
HENRI: Sit on my bed, please, Uncle Peter!!
PETER: All right.
(Pause)
Now, then, babies are made when a man—Hey! Henri!! What are you doing! Stop that!!
HENRI: I’m just hugging you.
PETER: Well, don’t hug me there! Now then, when a man and a woman really, really love one another, they decide to make a baby to share that love—
CECIL: Oh, brother. Just tell it straight, will you, Uncle Peter?
PETER: Okay. A man rams his hot throbbing member into a woman and humps so hard that he explodes just as she’s screaming: “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”—Is that straight enough for you?
(Pause.)
CECIL: Uncle Peter…you’re not a well man.
(Pause.)
HENRI: Uncle Peter?
PETER: Yes, Henri? What is it?
HENRI: I want to have your baby!!
(Nursery music tinkles as lights fade up to Scene One.)
ACT ONE
Scene One
Day One. A.M. The kitchen. Peter, Anna and Ruth sit around the table. They are in the middle of a discussion.
PETER: I think they have to go. That’s all I’m saying!
RUTH: Look, Peter, you just waltz in here—
PETER: What’s with the “waltz!” I’ve been here for a solid six months now—
RUTH: The boys have been here for a long, long time! And they’ll be here for a long, long time to come—
ANNA: Honey, we should just hear Peter out—
RUTH: Peter—if they go, I go!
PETER: Look, this is nothing to get emotional about.
RUTH: This is something between Anna and me.
PETER: Not anymore it’s not. We entered into a contract; now the three of us have equal say in the bringing up of our child.
ANNA: Honey—Peter doesn’t think we’re…well, that the way we talk to our children is healthy.
PETER: Imaginary children.
RUTH: What do you mean, not “healthy”?
