by David French
BEN Go, Mom! (He whistles.)
BILL and BEN clap their hands to the music.
BILL Give her hell, Dad!
MARY Not so fast, Jacob, you’ll make me dizzy!
JACOB stops after a few turns. He is slightly dizzy. He sits.
JACOB (to BILL) Dance with your mother. I galled my heel at work. (BILL does.) You ought to have seen your mother in her day, Ben. She’d turn the head of a statue. There wasn’t a man from Bareneed to Bay Roberts didn’t blink when she passed by.
MARY Come on, Ben. Before it’s over. (She takes BEN, and they dance around the room.)
JACOB That’s one t’ing about Ben, Mary. He won’t ever leave you. The day he gets married himself he’ll move in next door.
Finally MARY collapses laughing on the chesterfield. The music plays on.
JACOB (expansively) I t’ink a drink’s in order. What do you say, boys? To whet the appetite. (He searches in the bottom of the cabinet. To MARY) Where’s all the whiskey to? You didn’t t’row it out, did you?
MARY You t’rowed it down your t’roat, that’s where it was t’rowed.
JACOB Well, boys, looks like there’s no whiskey. (He holds up a bottle.) How does a little “screech” sound?
BEN Not for me, Dad.
JACOB Why not?
BEN I just don’t like it.
JACOB (sarcastically) No, you wouldn’t. I suppose it’s too strong for you. Well, Billy’ll have some, won’t you, my son? (He turns down the music.)
BILL (surprised) I will?
JACOB Get two glasses out, then, and let’s have a quick drink. (BILL does and hands a glass to his father.) Don’t suppose you’d have a little drop, Mary, my love? (He winks at BILL.)
MARY Go on with you. You ought to have better sense, teaching the boys all your bad habits. And after you promised your poor mother on her deathbed you’d warn them off alcohol . . .
JACOB Don’t talk foolishness. A drop of this won’t harm a soul. Might even do some good, all you know.
MARY Yes, some good it’s done you.
JACOB At least I’d take a drink with my own father, if he was alive. I’d do that much, my lady.
MARY (quickly) Pay no attention, Ben. (to JACOB) And listen, I don’t want you getting tight and making a disgrace of yourself at the rehearsal tonight. You hear?
JACOB Oh, I’ll be just as sober as the priest, rest assured of that. And you just study his fingers, if they’m not as brown as a new potato from nicotine. I dare say if he didn’t swallow Sen-Sen, you’d know where all that communion wine goes to. (to BILL) How many drunks you suppose is wearing Roman collars? More than the Pope would dare admit. And all those t’ousands of babies they keep digging up in the basements of convents. It’s shocking.
BEN That’s a lot of bull, Dad.
JACOB It is, is it? Who told you that? Is that more of the stuff you learns at university? Your trouble is you’ve been brainwashed.
BEN You just want to believe all that.
MARY And you’d better not come out with that tonight, if you knows what’s good for you.
JACOB (to BILL) Mind — I’m giving you fair warning. I won’t sprinkle my face with holy water or make the sign of the cross. And nothing in this world or the next can persuade me.
BILL You don’t have to, Dad. Relax.
JACOB Just so you knows.
BEN All you got to do, Dad, is sit there in the front row and look sweet.
JACOB All right, there’s no need to get saucy. I wasn’t talking to you! (He pours a little “screech” in the two glasses. To BILL) Here’s to you, boy. You got the makings of a man. That’s more than I can say for your older brother.
JACOB downs his drink. BILL glances helplessly at BEN. He doesn’t drink.
Go on.
BILL hesitates, then downs it, grimacing and coughing.
You see that, Mary? (his anger rising) It’s your fault the other one’s the way he is. It’s high time, my lady, you let go and weaned him away from the tit!
MARY (angrily) You shut your mouth. There’s no call for that kind of talk!
JACOB He needs more in his veins than mother’s milk, goddamn it!
BEN (shouting at JACOB) What’re you screaming at her for? She didn’t do anything!
JACOB (a semblance of sudden calm) Well, listen to him, now. Look at the murder in his face. One harsh word to his mother and up comes his fists. I’ll bet you wouldn’t be half so quick to defend your father.
MARY Be still, Jacob. You don’t know what you’re saying.
JACOB He t’inks he’s too good to drink with me!
BEN All right, I will, if it’s that important. Only let’s not fight.
MARY He’s just taunting you into it, Ben. Don’t let him.
JACOB (sarcastically) No, my son, your mother’s right. I wouldn’t wish for your downfall on my account. To hear her tell it I’m the devil tempting Saul on the road to Damascus.
MARY Well, the devil better learn his scripture, if he wants to quote it. The devil tempted our Lord in the wilderness, and Saul had a revelation on the road to Damascus.
JACOB A revelation! (He turns off the record.) I’ll give you a revelation! I’m just a piece of shit around here! Who is it wears himself out year after year to give him a roof over his head and food in his mouth? Who buys his clothes and keeps him in university?
MARY He buys his own clothes, and he’s got a scholarship.
JACOB (furious) Oh, butt out! You’d stick up for him if it meant your life, and never once put in a good word for me.
MARY I’m only giving credit where credit’s due.
JACOB Liar.
MARY Ah, go on. You’re a fine one to talk. You’d call the ace of spades white and not bat an eye.
JACOB (enraged) It never fails. I can’t get my own son to do the simplest goddamn t’ing without a row. No odds what.
BEN It’s never simple, Dad. You never let it be simple or I might. It’s always a test.
JACOB Test!
MARY Ben, don’t get drawn into it.
JACOB (to BEN) The sooner you learns to get along with others, the sooner you’ll grow up. Test!
BEN Do you ever hear yourself? “Ben, get up that ladder. You want people to think you’re a sissy?” “Have a drink, Ben. It’ll make a man out of you!”
JACOB I said no such t’ing, now. Liar.
BEN It’s what you meant. “Cut your hair, Ben. You look like a girl.” The same shit over and over, and it never stops!
JACOB Now it all comes out. You listening to this, Mary?
BEN No, you listen, Dad. You don’t really expect me to climb that ladder or take that drink. You want me to refuse, don’t you?
JACOB Well, listen to him. The faster you gets out into the real world the better for you. (He turns away.)
BEN Dad, you don’t want me to be a man, you just want to impress me with how much less of a man I am than you. (He snatches the bottle from his father and takes a swig.) All right. Look. (He rips open his shirt.) I still haven’t got hair on my chest, and I’m still not a threat to you.
JACOB No, and you’m not likely ever to be, either, until you grows up and gets out from under your mother’s skirts.
BEN No, Dad — until I get out from under yours.
The doorbell rings.
MARY That’s Kathy. All right, that’s more than enough for one night. Let’s have no more bickering. Jake, get dressed. And not another word out of anyone. The poor girl will t’ink she’s fallen in with a pack of wild savages.
JACOB (getting in the last word) And there’s no bloody mistakin’ who the wild savage is. (With that he exits into his bedroom.)
MARY Billy, answer the door. (to BEN) And you — change your shirt. You look a fright.
BEN exits. BILL opens the front door, and KATHY enters. She is sixteen, very pretty, but at the moment her face is pale and emotionless.
KATHY Hello, Mrs. Mercer.
MARY You’re just in time, Kathy. (MARY gives her a ki
ss.) Take her coat, Billy. I’ll be right out, dear. (She exits.)
KATHY Where is everyone?
BILL (taking her coat) Getting dressed. (As he tries to kiss her, she pulls away her cheek.)
BILL What’s wrong? (He hangs up her coat.)
KATHY Nothing. I don’t feel well.
BILL Why not? Did you drink too much at the party?
KATHY What party?
BILL Didn’t the girls at work throw a party for you this afternoon?
KATHY I didn’t go to the office this afternoon.
BILL You didn’t go? What do you mean?
KATHY Just what I said.
BILL What did you say?
KATHY Will you get off my back!
BILL What did I say? (slight pause) Are you mad at me?
KATHY (looks at him) Billy, do you love me? Do you? I need to know.
BILL What’s happened, Kathy?
KATHY I’m asking you a simple question.
BILL And I want to know what’s happened.
KATHY If I hadn’t been pregnant, you’d never have wanted to get married, would you?
BILL So?
KATHY I hate you.
BILL For Chrissake, Kathy, what’s happened?
KATHY (sits on the chesterfield) I lost the baby . . .
BILL What?
KATHY Isn’t that good news?
BILL What the hell happened?
KATHY I started bleeding in the ladies’ room this morning.
BILL Bleeding? What do you mean?
KATHY Hemorrhaging. I screamed, and one of the girls rushed me to the hospital. I think the people at work thought I’d done something to myself.
BILL Had you?
KATHY Of course not. You know I wouldn’t.
BILL What did the doctor say?
KATHY I had a miscarriage. (She looks up at him.) You’re not even sorry, are you?
BILL I am, really. What else did the doctor say?
KATHY I lost a lot of blood. I’m supposed to eat lots of liver and milk, to build it up. You should have seen me, Billy. I was white and shaky. I’m a little better now. I’ve been sleeping all afternoon.
BILL (slight pause) What was it?
KATHY What was what?
BILL The baby.
KATHY Do you really want to know?
BILL doesn’t answer.
BILL What’ll we do?
KATHY Tell our folks, I guess. My mother doesn’t know yet. She’s been at the track all day with her boyfriend. (slight pause) I haven’t told anyone else, Billy. Just you.
Enter JACOB and MARY. He is dressed in a pair of slacks and a white shirt. He carries a necktie in his hand. MARY wears a blouse and skirt.
JACOB Billy, my son, tie me a Windsor knot. That’s a good boy. (He hands BILL the necktie and BILL proceeds to make the knot. Shyly, to KATHY) Hello, my dear. (KATHY nods.) Lovely old day.
MARY Come on. We may as well sit right down before it colds off. I’ll serve up the fish and potatoes. (She transfers the fish and potatoes into serving dishes.)
JACOB (calling) Ben! (to KATHY, referring to the tie) I’m all t’umbs or I’d do it myself.
BEN (Enters, his shirt changed.) Hi, Kathy.
KATHY Hi, Ben. Congratulations.
BEN For what?
KATHY Didn’t you graduate last night?
BEN Oh. Yeah.
JACOB I suppose if Ben ever becomes Prime Minister, I’ll be the last to know unless I reads it in the newspapers.
MARY Kathy, you sit right down there, dear. Billy, you sit next to her. And Ben’s right here.
BILL hands his father the tie. JACOB slips it on as he approaches the table.
Father, why don’t you say grace?
JACOB Maybe Kathy would like to.
KATHY We never say grace at our house.
JACOB Is that a fact? Imagine.
BILL (jumping in) “Bless this food that now we take, and feed our souls for Jesus’ sake. Amen.”
ALL Amen. (They dig in.)
JACOB Have an eye to the bones, Kathy. (slight pause) You was born in Toronto, wasn’t you? Someday you’ll have to take a trip home, you and Billy, and see how they dries the cod on the beaches. He don’t remember any more than you. He was just little when he come up here.
MARY That was a long time ago, Kathy. 1945.
KATHY (slight pause) Have you been home since, Mr. Mercer?
JACOB No, my dear, and I don’t know if I wants to. A different generation growing up now. (glancing at BEN) A different brand of Newfie altogether. And once the oldtimers die off, that’ll be the end of it. Newfoundland’ll never be the same after that, I can tell you. (slight pause) Do you know what flakes is?
KATHY No.
JACOB Well, they’m spread over the shore — these wooden stages they dries the codfish on. Sometimes — and this is no word of a lie, is it, Mary? — the fishflies’ll buzz around that codfish as t’ick as the hairs on your arm. (slight pause) T’icker. T’ick as tarpaper.
MARY Jacob, we’re eating. (to KATHY) He’s just like his poor mother, Jacob is. She’d start on about the tapeworm as you was lifting the pork to your mouth. (to JACOB) Let the poor girl eat in peace, Father. (to KATHY) You’ve hardly touched your food, dear. Has he spoiled your appetite? It wouldn’t be the first time.
KATHY I’m just not too hungry, Mrs. Mercer.
MARY I understands. Big day tomorrow. I was the same way, my wedding day. It’s a wonder I didn’t faint.
JACOB (slight pause — to KATHY) You notice Ben don’t look my way? He’s sore.
KATHY glances at BEN, who goes on eating, oblivious.
JACOB (to KATHY) Oh, he knows how to dish it out with the best, but he can’t take it. You can joke with Billy, he likes a bit of fun, but with the other one you don’t dare open your mouth.
BEN Will you shut up, Dad?
JACOB (to KATHY) I’ll bet you didn’t get sore with your poor father and talk back all the time when he was alive, did you, my dear? No, that’s what you didn’t. You had more respect. And I bet now you don’t regret it.
MARY Don’t ask the child to choose sides, Jacob. You’ve got no right to do that. Anyhow, Kathy’s got more sense than to get mixed up in it. Don’t you, Kathy?
JACOB The Bible says to honour thy father and thy mother. . . .
MARY (exasperated) Oh, hold your tongue, for goodness sake. Don’t your jaw ever get tired?
JACOB (to KATHY) Well, you can see for yourself what happens, my dear. Anyone in this room is free to say what they likes about the old man, but just let him criticize back and you’d t’ink a fox had burst into the chicken coop, the way Mother Mercer here gathers her first-born under her wing. (slight pause — to KATHY, but meant for his wife) I suppose by now you’ve heard your mother and me once went together? I suppose Minnie’s mentioned it often enough? Fine figure of a woman, Minnie. Still looks as good as ever.
BILL I hear you used to be a real ladies’ man, Dad.
JACOB Who told you that?
BILL Mom.
MARY (quickly) Liar. I told you no such t’ing.
BILL You did so. Didn’t she, Ben?
BEN smiles at his mother.
JACOB Well, contrary to what your mother tells, that particular year I had only one sweetheart, and that was Minnie Jackson. Wasn’t it, Mary?
MARY (nodding) She was still a Fraser then. That was the same year I was going with Jerome McKenzie. Wasn’t it, Jacob?
JACOB Oh, don’t forget the most important part, Mary, the Q.C., the Queen’s Counsel. Jerome McKenzie, Q.C. (to KATHY) Jerome’s a well-known barrister in St. John’s, and Mrs. Mercer’s all the time t’rowing him up in my face. Ain’t you, Mary? Never lets me forget it, will you? (to KATHY) You see, my dear, she might have married Jerome McKenzie, Q.C., and never had a single worry in the world, if it wasn’t for me. Ain’t that so, Mary?
MARY If you insists, Jacob.
BILL and KATHY stare silently at their plates, embarrassed. BEN looks from his father to
his mother and then to BILL.
BEN Did you get the boutonnieres and cufflinks for the ushers?
MARY It’s all taken care of, my son. (pause) What kind of flowers did your mother order, Kathy?
KATHY Red roses.
MARY How nice.
KATHY I like yellow roses better, but — (She stops abruptly.)
BILL But what?
KATHY Nothing.
MARY Yellow roses mean tears, my son.
KATHY Did you carry roses, Mrs. Mercer?
MARY I did. Red butterfly roses. And I wore a gown of white satin, with a lace veil. I even had a crown of orange blossoms.
KATHY I’ll bet you were beautiful.
JACOB My dear, she lit up that little Anglican church like the Second Coming. I suppose I told you all about the wedding ring?
MARY No, you didn’t, and she don’t want to hear tell of it, and neither do the rest of us. Don’t listen to his big fibs, Kathy.
JACOB I still remembers that day. I had on my gaberdine suit, with a white carnation in the lapel. In those days Mary t’ought I was handsome.
