PAT, as though to call him back somehow: I believed if he concentrated . . . concentration . . . you see I myself always jumped from one thing to another and never got anywhere, and I thought . . .
AUGIE: Yeh . . . when it works concentration is a very sound principle. Takes a breath. Well, lots of luck.
Still unable to believe, Pat can’t speak.
’Bye, Amos.
Amos nods slightly, numbly staring. At the door, to Dave.
’Bye. He starts to open the door.
DAVID: Look . . . He hurries to him. He looks in his eyes, his hand raised as though to grab the man and hold him here.
AUGIE: Yeh?
David starts to speak, then looks at Amos who is still staring at nothing. David turns back to Augie.
DAVID: . . . You’ll see him in the Leagues.
AUGIE: I hope so. I just don’t . . .
DAVID, trying to restrain his fury: No, you’ll see him. You’re not the only team, you know. You’ll see him in the Leagues.
AUGIE, grasps David’s arm: . . . Take it easy, boy. To the others: I hope you’ll pardon me for being late.
DAVID, quietly, like an echo, his voice cracking: You’ll see him.
Augie nods. Glances at Pat and Amos, opens the door and goes. Pat and David stand looking at the door. Pat turns now, walks slowly to Amos who is sitting. As Pat nears him he stands slowly, his fists clenched at his sides.
PAT, softly, really questioning: He can be wrong too, can’t he? Amos is silent, his face filling with hate. Can’t he be wrong? No reply. He can, can’t he?
AMOS, a whip-like shout: No, he can’t be!
PAT: But everybody makes mistakes . . .
AMOS—with a cry he grabs Pat by the collar and shakes him violently back and forth: Mistakes! Mistakes! You and your goddam mistakes!
DAVID, leaps to them, trying to break his grip: Let him go! Amos, let him go!
AMOS, amid his own, and Pat’s weeping. To Pat: You liar! I’ll kill you, you little liar, you liar!
With a new burst of violence he starts forcing Pat backward and down to the floor. Gus comes in as David locks an arm around Amos’s neck and jerks him from Pat who falls to the floor.
Leave me alone! Leave me alone!
With a great thrust David throws Amos to the couch and stands over him, fists raised.
DAVID: Stay there! Don’t get up! You’ll fight me, Amos!
PAT, scurrying to his feet, and taking David away from the couch: Don’t, don’t fight! He turns quickly, pleadingly to Amos, who is beginning to sob on the couch. Amos, boy, boy . . . Amos lies across the couch and sobs violently. Pat leans over and pats his head. Boy, boy . . .
Amos swings his arm out blindly and hits Pat across the chest. David starts toward them but Pat remains over him, patting his back.
Come on, boy, please, boy, stop now, stop, Amos! Look, Ame, look, I’ll get Cleveland down here, I’ll go myself, I’ll bring a man. Ame, listen, I did what I could, a man makes mistakes, he can’t figure on everything. . . . He begins shaking Amos who continues sobbing. Ame, stop it! He stands and begins shouting over Amos’s sobbing: I admit it, I admit it, Ame, I lie, I talk too much, I’m a fool, I admit it, but look how you pitch, give me credit for that, give me credit for something! Rushes at Amos and turns him over. Stop that crying! God Almighty, what do you want me to do! I’m a fool, what can I do!
DAVID, wrenches Pat away from the couch. Stands over Amos: Listen, you! Leans over and pulls Amos by the collar to a sitting position. Amos sits limply, sobbing. He made a mistake. That’s over with. You’re going to drill on base play. You got a whole life. One mistake can’t ruin a life. He’ll go to Cleveland. I’ll send him to New York . . .
Hester enters quietly.
The man can be wrong. Look at me! The man can be wrong, you understand!
Amos shakes his head.
AMOS: He’s right.
David releases him and stands looking down at him. Amos gets up slowly, goes to a chair and sits.
He’s right. I always knew I couldn’t play the bases. Everything the man said was right. I’m dumb, that’s why. I can’t figure nothin’. Looks up at Pat. There wasn’t no time, he said, no time for nothin’ but throwin’ that ball. Let ’em laugh, he said, you don’t need to know how to figure. He knew it all. He knows everything! Well, this is one time I know something. I ain’t gonna touch a baseball again as long as I live!
PAT, frantically: Amos, you don’t know what you’re saying . . . !
AMOS: I couldn’t ever stand out on a diamond again! I can’t do it! I know! I can’t! Slight pause. I ain’t goin’ to let you kid me anymore. I’m through. He rises. Pat sobs into his hands.
DAVID—Amos keeps shaking his head in denial of everything: What do you mean, through? Amos, you can’t lay down. Listen to me. Stop shaking your head—who gets what he wants in this world!
AMOS, suddenly: You. Only you.
DAVID: Me! Don’t believe it, Amos. Grabs him. Don’t believe that anymore!
AMOS: Everything you ever wanted . . . in your whole life, every . . . !
DAVID: Including my children, Ame? Silence. Where are my children?
HESTER: Dave . . .
DAVID, to Hester: I want to tell him! To Amos: What good is everything when nothing is good without children? Do you know the laughingstock it makes of everything you do in the world? You’ll never meet a man who doesn’t carry one curse . . . at least one. Shory, J.B., Pop, you, and me too. Me as much as anybody!
HESTER: Don’t, Davey . . .
DAVID, with a dreadful triumph: No, Hess, I’m not afraid of it anymore. I want it out. I was always afraid I was something special in the world. But not after this. To Amos: Nobody escapes, Ame! But I don’t lay down, I don’t die because I’ll have no kids. A man is born with one curse at least to be cracked over his head. I see it now, and you got to see it. Don’t envy me, Ame . . . we’re the same now. The world is made that way, as if a law was written in the sky somewhere—nobody escapes! Takes Amos’s hand.
HESTER, almost weeping she cannot restrain: Why do you talk that way?
DAVID: Hess, the truth . . .
HESTER: It’s not the truth! . . . You have no curse! None at all!
DAVID, struck: What . . . ?
HESTER: I wanted to wait till the scout signed him up. And then . . . when the house was full of noise and cheering, I’d stand with you on the stairs high over them all, and tell them you were going to have a child. With anger and disappointment and grief: Oh, Davey, I saw you so proud . . . !
DAVID, twisted and wracked, he bursts out: Oh, Hess, I am, I am.
HESTER: No, you don’t want it. I don’t know what’s happened to you, you don’t want it now!
DAVID, with a chill of horror freezing him: Don’t say that! Hester, you mustn’t . . . David tries to draw her to him.
HESTER, holding him away: You’ve got to want it, Davey. You’ve just got to want it!
She bursts into tears and rushes out. He starts after her, calling her name . . . when he finds himself facing Amos.
AMOS: Nobody escapes . . . David stops, turns to Amos. . . . except you. He walks to the door, past David, and goes out.
CURTAIN
ACT THREE
SCENE I
Living room. Night in the following February.
J.B. is asleep on the couch. Shory and Gus are silently playing cards and smoking at a table near the fireplace. Snow can be seen on the window muntins. Several coats on the rack. Presently . . .
GUS: There’s no brainwork in this game. Let me teach you claviash.
SHORY: I can win all the money I need in rummy and pinochle. Play.
GUS: You have no intellectual curiosity.
SHORY: No, but you can slip me a quarter. Showing his hand. Rummy.
En
ter Belle from the stairs.
GUS, to Belle: Everything all right?
BELLE, half turns to him, holding blanket forth: She keeps sweating up all the blankets. That poor girl.
GUS: The doctor say anything?
BELLE: Yes . . . Thinks. . . . he said, go down and get a dry blanket.
GUS: I mean, about when it will be coming along?
BELLE: Oh, you can’t tell about a baby. That’s one thing about them, they come most any time. Sometimes when you don’t expect it, and sometimes when you do expect it. She goes up to door and turns again. Why don’t Davey buy a baby carriage?
GUS: Didn’t he? I suppose he will.
BELLE: But how can you have a baby without a baby carriage?
SHORY: You better blow your nose.
BELLE: I haven’t time! She blows her nose and goes out, up left.
SHORY: A quarter says it’s a boy. Tosses a quarter on the table.
GUS: It’s a bet. You know, statistics show more girls is born than boys. You should’ve asked me for odds.
SHORY: Dave Beeves doesn’t need statistics, he wants a boy. Matter of fact, let’s raise it—a dollar to your half that he’s got a boy tonight.
GUS: Statistically I would take the bet, but financially I stand pat.
Enter David from left door to outside. He is dressed for winter. It is immediately evident that a deep enthusiasm, a ruddy satisfaction is upon him. He wears a strong smile. He stamps his feet a little as he removes his gloves, and then his short coat, muffler, hat, leaving a sweater on. As he closes the door.
DAVID: How’m I doing upstairs?
GUS: So far she only sweats.
DAVID: Sweating! Is that normal?
GUS: Listen, she ain’t up there eating ice cream.
DAVID—goes to the fireplace, rubs his hands before it. Of J.B. as though amused: The least little thing happens and he stays home from work. He’s been here all day.
GUS: Certain men like to make holidays. A new kid to him is always a holiday.
DAVID—he looks around: What a fuss.
GUS: You’re very calm. Surprising to me. Don’t you feel nervous?
SHORY, to Gus: You seen too many movies. What’s the use of him pacing up and down?
DAVID, with an edge of guilt: I got the best doctor; everything she needs. I figure, whatever’s going to happen’ll happen. After all, I can’t . . .
Breaks off. In a moment Belle enters from the left door, carrying a different blanket. She goes toward the stair landing. David finally speaks, unable to restrain it.
Belle . . . She stops. He goes to her, restraining anxiety. Would you ask the doctor . . . if he thinks it’s going to be very hard for her, heh?
BELLE: He told me to shut up.
DAVID: Then ask J.B.’s wife.
BELLE: She told me to shut up too. But I’ll ask her.
Belle goes up the stairs. David watches her ascend a moment.
DAVID, looking upstairs: That girl is going to live like a queen after this. Turns to them, banging his fist in his palm. Going to make a lot of money this year.
SHORY: Never predict nothin’ but the weather, half an hour ahead.
DAVID: Not this time. I just finished mating my mink, and I think every one of them took.
GUS: All finished? That’s fine.
A knock is heard on the door. David goes to it, opens it. Pat enters. He is dressed in a pea jacket, a wool stocking cap on his head. He carries a duffel bag on his shoulder.
DAVID: Oh, hello, Dad.
PAT: The baby come yet?
DAVID: Not yet.
PAT: My train doesn’t leave for a couple of hours. I thought I’d wait over here.
DAVID: Here, give me that. He takes the duffel bag from Pat, puts it out of the way.
SHORY: So you’re really going, Pat?
PAT: I got my old job back—ship’s cook. I figure with a little studying, maybe in a year or so, I’ll have my Third license. So . . .
DAVID: It’s so foolish your leaving, Dad. Can’t I change your mind?
PAT: It’s better this way, David. Maybe if I’m not around Amos’ll take hold of himself.
There is a knock on the door.
DAVID: That’s probably Amos now.
He goes to the door, opens it. Amos enters. He is smoking a cigarette.
Hello, Ame. All locked up? Come in.
AMOS: I got my motor running. Hello, Gus, Shory. He ignores Pat. There is a pause.
GUS: Working hard?
AMOS, a tired, embittered chuckle: Yeh, pretty tough; pumpin’ gas, ringin’ the cash register . . . Giving David a small envelope and a key: There’s twenty-six bucks in there. I got the tally slip in with it.
DAVID, as though anxious for his participation; strained: Twenty-six! We did all right today.
AMOS: Always do, don’t ya? ’Night. Starts to go.
DAVID: Listen, Ame. Amos turns. The mink’ll be bearing in about a month. I was thinking you might like to take a shot at working with me, here . . . it’s a great exercise. . . . Spring is coming, you know. You want to be in condition . . .
AMOS: For what?
DAVID: Well . . . maybe play some ball this summer.
AMOS, glances at Pat: Who said I’m playing ball?
DAVID, as carelessly as possible: What are you going to do with yourself?
AMOS: Pump your gas. . . . Bring you the money every night. Wait for something good to happen. A bitter little laugh. I mean the day they announced they’re building the new main highway right past your gas station I knew something good had to happen to me. Laughing: I mean it just had to, Dave! Now with real feeling: Baby hasn’t come yet? David shakes his head, disturbed by his brother’s bitterness. Overdue, ain’t she? Takes a drag on his cigarette.
DAVID: A little.
AMOS: Well, if it’s a boy . . . Glancing at Pat and defiantly blowing out smoke. Don’t have him pitchin’ down the cellar. With a wink at David, he goes out. After a moment David goes to Pat.
DAVID: Why must you go, Dad? Work with me here, I’ve plenty for everybody, I don’t need it all.
PAT: Inhaling cigarettes in those glorious lungs. I couldn’t bear to watch him destroying my work that way.
SHORY, at the fireplace: Come on, Pat, pinochle.
DAVID, beckoning Gus over to the right: Hey, Gus, I want to talk to you.
PAT, going to Shory. Without the old conviction: Fireplace heat is ruination to the arteries.
Pat takes Gus’s place, Gus coming to the right.
SHORY, mixing the deck: So you’ll drop dead warm. Sit down. He deals.
David and Gus are at right. J.B. continues sleeping. The card game begins.
DAVID: I want you to do something for me, Gus. In a little more than thirty days I’ll have four or five mink for every bitch in those cages. Four to one.
GUS: Well, don’t count the chickens . . .
DAVID: No, about this I’m sure. I want to mortgage the shop. Before you answer . . . I’m not being an Indian giver. I signed sixty percent of the shop over to you because you’re worth it—I didn’t want what don’t belong to me and I still don’t. I just want you to sign so I can borrow some money on the shop. I need about twenty-five hundred dollars.
GUS: I can ask why?
DAVID: Sure. I want to buy some more breeders.
GUS: Oh. Well, why not use the money you have?
DAVID: Frankly, Gus . . . Laughs confidently. . . . I don’t have any other money.
GUS: Ah, go on now, don’t start kidding me . . .
DAVID: No, it’s the truth. I’ve damn near as many mink out there as Dan Dibble. That costs big money. What do you say?
Pat and Shory look up now and listen while playing their hands.
GUS, thinks a moment: Why do you pic
k on the shop to mortgage? You could get twenty-five hundred on the gas station, or the quarry, or the farm . . . Slight pause.
DAVID: I did. I’ve got everything mortgaged. Everything but the shop.
GUS, shocked: Dave, I can’t believe this!
DAVID, indicates out of the right window: Well, look at them out there. I’ve got a ranch. You didn’t think I had enough cash to buy that many, did you?
GUS, gets up trying to shake off his alarm: But, Dave, this is mink. Who knows what can happen to them? I don’t understand how you can take everything you own and sink it in . . .
DAVID: Four for one, Gus. If prices stay up I can make sixty thousand dollars this year.
GUS: But how can you be sure; you can’t . . .
DAVID: I’m sure.
GUS: But how can you be . . . ?
DAVID, more nervously now, wanting to end this tack: I’m sure. Isn’t it possible? To be sure?
GUS: Yes, but why? Pause. Why are you sure?
J.B., suddenly erupting on the couch: Good Good and . . . ! He sits up rubbing himself. What happened to those radiators you were going to put into this house? He gets up, goes to the fire, frozen. You could hang meat in this room.
DAVID, to J.B.: You’re always hanging meat.
GUS: I don’t know how to answer you. I have worked very hard in the shop . . . I . . . His reasonableness breaks: You stand there and don’t seem to realize you’ll be wiped out if those mink go, and now you want more yet!
DAVID: I said they’re not going to die!
J.B., to Pat and Shory: Who’s going to die? What’re they talking about?
DAVID: Nothin’. He looks out of the window. J.B. watches him, mystified.
PAT: I think Amos would smoke a pipe instead of those cigarettes, if you told him, Shory.
J.B.: Dave, you want a baby carriage y’know.
DAVID, half turns: Heh? . . . Yeh, sure.
J.B.: I figured you forgot to ask me so I ordered a baby carriage for you.
David turns back to the window as. . . .
Matter of fact, it’s in the store. With great enthusiasm: Pearl gray! Nice soft rubber tires too . . . boy, one thing I love to see . . .
DAVID, turns to him, restraining: All right, will you stop talking?
The Penguin Arthur Miller Page 8
