WALTER: Well, you’re getting warmer.
SOLOMON: I’m a fair person! So you don’t have to bother with the appraisal and deductions, all right? Before Walter can answer: But don’t rush, I’ll wait. I’m at your service. He goes quickly and worriedly into the bedroom.
ESTHER, starting to laugh; to Victor: Where did you find him?
WALTER: —that wonderful? He “made it all ethical”!
Esther bursts out laughing, and Walter with her, and Victor manages to join. As it begins to subside, Walter turns to him.
What do you say, Vic? Will you come by?
The laughter is gone. The smile is just fading on Victor’s face. He looks at nothing, as though deciding. The pause lengthens, and lengthens still. Now it begins to seem he may not speak at all. No one knows how to break into his puzzling silence. At last he turns to Walter with a rather quick movement of his head as though he had made up his mind to take the step.
VICTOR: I’m not sure I know what you want, Walter.
Walter looks shocked, astonished, almost unbelieving. But Victor’s gaze is steady on him.
ESTHER, with a tone of the conciliator shrouding her shock and protest: I don’t think that’s being very fair, is it?
VICTOR: Why is it unfair? We’re talking about some pretty big steps here. To Walter: Not that I don’t appreciate it, Walter, but certain things have happened, haven’t they? With a half laugh: It just seems odd to suddenly be talking about—
WALTER, downing his resentment: I’d hoped we could take one step at a time, that’s all. It’s very complicated between us, I think, and it seemed to me we might just try to—
VICTOR: I know, but you can understand it would be a little confusing.
WALTER—unwillingly, anger peaks his voice: What do you find confusing?
VICTOR—considers for a moment, but he cannot go back: You must have some idea, don’t you?
WALTER: This is a little astonishing, Victor. After all these years you can’t expect to settle everything in one conversation, can you? I simply felt that with a little good will we . . . we . . . He sees Victor’s adamant poise. Oh, the hell with it. He goes abruptly and snatches up his coat and one of the evening gowns. Get what you can from the old man, I don’t want any of it. He goes and extends his hand to Esther, forcing a smile. I’m sorry, Esther. It was nice seeing you anyway.
Sickened, she accepts his hand.
Maybe I’ll see you again, Vic. Good luck. He starts for the door. There are tears in his eyes.
ESTHER, before she can think: Walter?
Walter halts and turns to her questioningly. She looks to Victor helplessly. But he cannot think either.
WALTER: I don’t accept this resentment, Victor. It simply baffles me. I don’t understand it. I just want you to know how I feel.
ESTHER, assuaging: It’s not resentment, Walter.
VICTOR: The whole thing is a little fantastic to me, that’s all. I haven’t cracked a book in twenty-five years, how do I walk into a research laboratory?
ESTHER: But Walter feels that you have enough background—
VICTOR, almost laughing over his quite concealed anger at her: I know less chemistry than most high-school kids, Esther. To Walter: And physics, yet! Good God, Walter. He laughs. Where you been?
WALTER: I’m sure you could make a place for yourself—
VICTOR: What place? Running papers from one office to another?
WALTER: You’re not serious.
VICTOR: Why? Sooner or later my being your brother is not going to mean very much, is it? I’ve been walking a beat for twenty-eight years, I’m not qualified for anything technical. What’s this all about?
WALTER: Why do you keep asking what it’s about? I’ve been perfectly open with you, Victor!
VICTOR: I don’t think you have.
WALTER: Why! What do you think I’m—?
VICTOR: Well, when you say what you said a few minutes ago, I—
WALTER: What did I say?!
VICTOR, with a resolutely cool smile: What a pity it was that I didn’t go on with science.
WALTER, puzzled: What’s wrong with that?
VICTOR, laughing: Oh, Walter, come on, now!
WALTER: But I feel that. I’ve always felt that.
VICTOR, smiling still, and pointing at the center chair; a new reverberation sounds in his voice: There used to be a man in that chair, staring into space. Don’t you remember that?
WALTER: Very well, yes. I sent him money every month.
VICTOR: You sent him five dollars every month.
WALTER: I could afford five dollars. But what’s that got to do with you?
VICTOR: What’s it got to do with me!
WALTER: Yes, I don’t see that.
VICTOR: Where did you imagine the rest of his living was coming from?
WALTER: Victor, that was your decision, not mine.
VICTOR: My decision!
WALTER: We had a long talk in this room once, Victor.
VICTOR, not recalling: What talk?
WALTER, astonished: Victor! We came to a complete understanding—just after you moved up here with Dad. I told you then that I was going to finish my schooling come hell or high water, and I advised you to do the same. In fact, I warned you not to allow him to strangle your life. To Esther: And if I’m not mistaken I told you the same at your wedding, Esther.
VICTOR, with an incredulous laugh: Who the hell was supposed to keep him alive, Walter?
WALTER, with a strange fear, more than anger: Why did anybody have to? He wasn’t sick. He was perfectly fit to go to work.
VICTOR: Work? In 1936? With no skill, no money?
WALTER—outburst: Then he could have gone on welfare! Who was he, some exiled royalty? What did a hundred and fifty million other people do in 1936? He’d have survived, Victor. Good God, you must know that by now, don’t you?!
Slight pause.
VICTOR—suddenly at the edge of fury, and caught by Walter’s voicing his own opinion, he turns to Esther: I’ve had enough of this, Esther; it’s the same old thing all over again, let’s get out of here. He starts rapidly upstage toward the bedroom.
WALTER, quickly: Vic! Please! He catches Victor, who frees his arm. I’m not running him down. I loved him in many ways—
ESTHER, as though conceding her earlier position: Vic, listen—maybe you ought to talk about it.
VICTOR: It’s all pointless! The whole thing doesn’t matter to me! He turns to go to the bedroom.
WALTER: He exploited you!
Victor halts, turns to him, his anger full in his face.
Doesn’t that matter to you?
VICTOR: Let’s get one thing straight, Walter—I am nobody’s victim.
WALTER: But that’s exactly what I’ve tried to tell you. I’m not trying to condescend.
VICTOR: Of course you are. Would you be saying any of this if I’d made a pile of money somewhere? Dead stop. I’m sorry, Walter, I can’t take that. I made no choice; the icebox was empty and the man was sitting there with his mouth open. Slight pause. I didn’t start this, Walter, and the whole thing doesn’t interest me, but when you talk about making choices, and I should have gone on with science, I have to say something.—Just because you want things a certain way doesn’t make them that way. He has ended at a point distant from Walter.
A slight pause.
WALTER, with affront mixed into his trepidation: All right then . . . How do you see it?
VICTOR: Look, you’ve been sick, Walter, why upset yourself with all this?
WALTER: It’s important to me!
VICTOR, trying to smile—and in a friendly way: But why? It’s all over the dam. He starts toward the bedroom again.
ESTHER: I think he’s come to you in good faith, Victor.
He turns
to her angrily, but she braves his look.
I don’t see why you can’t consider his offer.
VICTOR: I said I’d consider it.
ESTHER, restraining a cry: You know you’re turning it down! In a certain fear of him, but persisting: I mean what’s so dreadful about telling the truth, can it be any worse than this?
VICTOR: What “truth”? What are you—?
Solomon suddenly appears from the bedroom.
ESTHER: For God’s sake, now what?
SOLOMON: I just didn’t want you to think I wouldn’t make the appraisal; I will, I’ll do it—
ESTHER, pointing to the bedroom: Will you please leave us alone!
SOLOMON, suddenly, his underlying emotion coming through; indicating Victor: What do you want from him! He’s a policeman! I’m a dealer, he’s a doctor, and he’s a policeman, so what’s the good you’ll tear him to pieces?!
ESTHER: Well, one of us has got to leave this room, Victor.
SOLOMON: Please, Esther, let me . . . Going quickly to Walter: Doctor, listen to me, take my advice—stop it. What can come of this? In the first place, if you take the deduction how do you know in two, three years they wouldn’t come back to you, whereby they disallow it? I don’t have to tell you, the Federal Government is not reliable. I understand very well you want to be sweet to him—to Esther—but can be two, three years before you’ll know how sweet they’re going to allow him. To Victor and Walter: In other words, what I’m trying to bring out, my boys, is that—
ESTHER: —you want the furniture.
SOLOMON, shouting at her: Esther, if I didn’t want it I wouldn’t buy it! But what can they settle here? It’s still up to the Federal Government, don’t you see? If they can’t settle nothing they should stop it right now! With a look of warning and alarm in his eyes: Now please—do what I tell you! I’m not a fool! He walks out into the bedroom, shaking.
WALTER, after a moment: I guess he’s got a point, Vic. Why don’t you just sell it to him; maybe then we can sit down and talk sometime. Glancing at the furniture: It isn’t really a very conducive atmosphere.—Can I call you?
VICTOR: Sure.
ESTHER: You’re both fantastic. She tries to laugh. We’re giving this furniture away because nobody’s able to say the simplest things. You’re incredible, the both of you.
WALTER, a little shamed: It isn’t that easy, Esther.
ESTHER: Oh, what the hell—I’ll say it. When he went to you, Walter, for the five hundred he needed to get his degree—
VICTOR: Esther! There’s no—
ESTHER: It’s one of the things standing between you, isn’t it? Maybe Walter can clear it up. I mean . . . Good God, is there never to be an end? To Walter, without pause: Because it stunned him, Walter. He’ll never say it, but—she takes the plunge—he hadn’t the slightest doubt you’d lend it to him. So when you turned him down—
VICTOR, as though it wearies him: Esther, he was just starting out—
ESTHER, in effect, taking her separate road: Not the way you told me! Please let me finish! To Walter: You already had the house in Rye, you were perfectly well established, weren’t you?
VICTOR: So what? He didn’t feel he could—
WALTER, with a certain dread, quietly: No, no, I . . . I could have spared the money . . . He sits slowly. Please, Vic—sit down, it’ll only take a moment.
VICTOR: I just don’t see any point in—
WALTER: No—no; maybe it’s just as well to talk now. We’ve never talked about this. I think perhaps we have to. Slight pause. Toward Esther: It was despicable; but I don’t think I can leave it quite that way. Slight pause. Two or three days afterward—to Victor—after you came to see me, I phoned to offer you the money. Did you know that?
Slight pause.
VICTOR: Where’d you phone?
WALTER: Here. I spoke to Dad.
Slight pause. Victor sits.
I saw that I’d acted badly, and I—
VICTOR: You didn’t act badly—
WALTER, with a sudden flight of his voice: It was frightful! He gathers himself against his past. We’ll have another talk, won’t we? I wasn’t prepared to go into all this. . . .
Victor is expressionless.
In any case . . . when I called here he told me you’d joined the Force. And I said—he mustn’t permit you to do a thing like that. I said—you had a fine mind and with a little luck you could amount to something in science. That it was a terrible waste. Etcetera. And his answer was—“Victor wants to help me. I can’t stop him.”
Pause.
VICTOR: You told him you were ready to give me the money?
WALTER: Victor, you remember the . . . the helplessness in his voice. At that time? With Mother recently gone and everything shot out from under him?
VICTOR, persisting: Let me understand that, Walter; did you tell—?
WALTER, in anguish, but hewing to himself: There are conversations, aren’t there, and looking back it’s impossible to explain why you said or didn’t say certain things? I’m not defending it, but I would like to be understood, if that’s possible. You all seemed to need each other more, Vic—more than I needed them. I was never able to feel your kind of . . . faith in him; that . . . confidence. His selfishness—which was perfectly normal—was always obvious to me, but you never seemed to notice it. To the point where I used to blame myself for a lack of feeling. You understand? So when he said that you wanted to help him, I felt somehow that it’d be wrong for me to try to break it up between you. It seemed like interfering.
VICTOR: I see.—Because he never mentioned you’d offered the money.
WALTER: All I’m trying to convey is that . . . I was never indifferent; that’s the whole point. I did call here to offer the loan, but he made it impossible, don’t you see?
VICTOR: I understand.
WALTER, eagerly: Do you?
VICTOR: Yes.
WALTER, sensing the unsaid: Please say what you think. It’s absurd to go on this way. What do you want to say?
VICTOR—slight pause: I think it was all . . . very convenient for you.
WALTER, appalled: That’s all?
VICTOR: I think so. If you thought Dad meant so much to me—and I guess he did in a certain way—why would five hundred bucks break us apart? I’d have gone on supporting him; it would have let me finish school, that’s all.—It doesn’t make any sense, Walter.
WALTER, with a hint of hysteria in his tone: What makes sense?
VICTOR: You didn’t give me the money because you didn’t want to.
WALTER, hurt and quietly enraged—slight pause: It’s that simple.
VICTOR: That’s what it comes to, doesn’t it? Not that you had any obligation, but if you want to help somebody you do it, if you don’t you don’t. He sees Walter’s growing frustration and Esther’s impatience. Well, why is that so astonishing? We do what we want to do, don’t we? Walter doesn’t reply. Victor’s anxiety rises. I don’t understand what you’re bringing this all up for.
WALTER: You don’t feel the need to heal anything.
VICTOR: I wouldn’t mind that, but how does this heal anything?
ESTHER: I think he’s been perfectly clear, Victor. He’s asking your friendship.
VICTOR: By offering me a job and twelve thousand dollars?
WALTER: Why not? What else can I offer you?
VICTOR: But why do you have to offer me anything?
Walter is silent, morally checked.
It sounds like I have to be saved, or something.
WALTER: I simply felt that there was work you could do that you’d enjoy and I—
VICTOR: Walter, I haven’t got the education, what are you talking about? You can’t walk in with one splash and wash out twenty-eight years. There’s a price people pay. I’ve paid it, it’s all gone, I haven’
t got it any more. Just like you paid, didn’t you? You’ve got no wife, you’ve lost your family, you’re rattling around all over the place? Can you go home and start all over again from scratch? This is where we are; now, right here, now. And as long as we’re talking, I have to tell you that this is not what you say in front of a man’s wife.
WALTER, glancing at Esther, certainty shattered: What have I said . . . ?
VICTOR, trying to laugh: We don’t need to be saved, Walter! I’ve done a job that has to be done and I think I’ve done it straight. You talk about being out of the rat race, in my opinion, you’re in it as deep as you ever were. Maybe more.
ESTHER—stands: I want to go, Victor.
VICTOR: Please, Esther, he’s said certain things and I don’t think I can leave it this way.
ESTHER, angrily: Well, what’s the difference?
VICTOR, suppressing an outburst: Because for some reason you don’t understand anything any more! He is trembling as he turns to Walter. What are you trying to tell me—that it was all unnecessary? Is that it?
Walter is silent.
Well, correct me, is that the message? Because that’s all I get out of this.
WALTER, toward Esther: I guess it’s impossible—
VICTOR, the more strongly because Walter seems about to be allied with Esther: What’s impossible? . . . What do you want, Walter!
WALTER—in the pause is the admission that he indeed has not leveled yet. And there is fear in his voice: I wanted to be of some use. I’ve learned some painful things, but it isn’t enough to know; I wanted to act on what I know.
VICTOR: Act—in what way?
WALTER, knowing it may be a red flag, but his honor is up: I feel . . . I could be of help. Why live, only to repeat the same mistakes again and again? I didn’t want to let the chance go by, as I let it go before.
Victor is unconvinced.
And I must say, if this is as far as you can go with me, then you’re only defeating yourself.
VICTOR: Like I did before.
Walter is silent.
Is that what you mean?
WALTER—hesitates, then with frightened but desperate acceptance of combat: All right, yes; that’s what I meant.
The Penguin Arthur Miller Page 78
