HELEN: It will be a lovely temporary home for our school. “Mayan”—we’ll have to study that civilization.
(Pause. No one knows what to say. Then:)
Such a lovely spot up here. You can see the ocean. The whole city. (To Catherine) With your father now working here, it must be nice to have this to come to.
CATHERINE: Actually, tonight’s the most time I’ve spent with my father in—what? Maybe fifteen years.
(Short pause.)
FRANK: A grotesque exaggeration from a spoiled child.
CATHERINE: Maybe—sixteen years.
FRANK: Don’t you listen? Miss Girvin, I want my children. My family. I’ve come for them.
CATHERINE: And Mother?
FRANK: She’s in Chicago. Happy.
CATHERINE: And giving you a divorce.
FRANK: She is. Finally! After how many years? That woman is tougher than she looks.
CATHERINE (To Helen): So now he can marry his girlfriend.
FRANK: And why would I do that? (Pause) I’ve come out here to begin again. (To Helen) She (Catherine) doesn’t listen. Or look around. I’ve set up an office. I’m looking for clients. Mrs. Barnsdall has been very generous letting me stay here.
CATHERINE: You’re building her school.
(He nods. What to say.)
FRANK (To Helen): So your first day is tomorrow?
(Helen nods. Short pause.)
(To Catherine) And you’re bringing my granddaughter.
CATHERINE: Yes.
(Nothing to say.)
FRANK: I look forward to that. (Hears something off) William?! Is that a car?
WILLIAM (Off): They’re back, Mister Wright!
FRANK (Standing): They’re back. (Looks at his pocket watch)
CATHERINE (Standing): I better leave.
FRANK: No, no, no! You’re my daughter. Please. Excuse me. (He goes off)
HELEN (Waiting until he’s gone): He’s—thrilling, Catherine. To have a father like that . . . I hope I didn’t talk too much. He was very polite to listen to me going on and on about the school. I hope I didn’t make an idiot of myself.
(Catherine doesn’t respond, she looks at her, then off toward where Frank left.)
But he seemed interested. I shouldn’t stay too long. Tomorrow’s the big day. The children will be terribly excited. To say nothing about me. I have to say I love this house your father has built. Hollyhock House. (She looks off to the house)
CATHERINE (Distracted): The roof leaks, that’s what my brother says.
HELEN: Well it hasn’t since I’ve been here. And the other house—where he is. He built that too? (Points toward it) So everything. And now the school. To just sit down and draw something and have it come to life.
CATHERINE: It’s not as easy as he’d like you to believe. Lloyd says—
(Frank returns, leading the group of a frail Louis Sullivan, sixty-seven; Miriam Noel, fifty-three; Lloyd, thirty-three; and William.)
FRANK (Entering, guiding the others): Look who’s dropped by. (He gestures toward Catherine) I told you she’d come when she heard you were here, Louie.
SULLIVAN: Catherine . . .
CATHERINE: Mister Sullivan.
SULLIVAN (Holding her): So here is the reason why my friend abandons us in windy Chicago.
CATHERINE: Me?? I don’t think I’m the reason.
FRANK: My daughter can’t say nice things about me yet.
CATHERINE: That’s not true.
FRANK: Say something nice about me.
(Put on the spot, Catherine is flustered, doesn’t know what to say. Short pause. Frank laughs.)
MIRIAM: William get some chairs.
LLOYD: He’s an assistant not a—
FRANK: Lloyd get some chairs.
(Lloyd hesitates.)
WILLIAM: I’ll help.
(Lloyd follows William off, as:)
FRANK: Louie, do you want something to drink?
(Sullivan takes the only chair.)
SULLIVAN: Coffee.
FRANK (Shouting to William): Coffee! Irish!
(Awkward pause.)
CATHERINE: So how was the beach? That’s where you’ve been, isn’t—?
FRANK (To Miriam): Catherine’s been here. Keeping me company. Isn’t that nice? She happened to be visiting— (Gestures toward Helen)
HELEN: Helen Girvin. How do you do.
FRANK (Introducing): Miriam. My friend . . . (To Miriam) She was visiting—
MIRIAM: So you said.
HELEN: I’m staying in the main residence. Hollyhock House.
FRANK: She’s starting a progressive school.
HELEN: Right here on the grounds. A progressive—
FRANK: My granddaughter’s going there. I asked them to dinner. We ate out here.
MIRIAM: How lovely.
(Sullivan, who has gotten up, stands looking off.)
SULLIVAN (Pointing): That’s my favorite thing so far. The beach was good, but . . .
HELEN (Looking off to where Sullivan is pointing): What is that? I’ve been wondering.
FRANK: The Roman Coliseum. Made of plywood for one of DeMille’s pictures a few years ago. Now they just let it rot.
SULLIVAN: Humility for all architects.
FRANK: Next to it, I think, is the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, or what’s left of it.
MIRIAM (To Helen): Good dinner?
HELEN: Yes.
FRANK: Here come the chairs!
(William and Lloyd carry in a few chairs.)
(To Lloyd as the chairs get set up) You spent all day at the beach?
LLOYD: We drove around.
FRANK: Let’s face this way, toward the ocean.
HELEN: Toward Japan you mean?
FRANK: No, I didn’t mean—
MIRIAM: We never liked Japan.
LLOYD (To Catherine): It’s good to see you here. You said you’d never come.
FRANK: Did she?
CATHERINE: I never said that. Why would I say that? He’s our father. (To Sullivan) How long have you been here, Mister Sullivan, I don’t think Father said?
FRANK: Four days, isn’t it now?
SULLIVAN: I’ve seen everything. Though they could use a skyscraper or two.
(Polite laughter.)
I’m trying to find out who to talk to about that.
(William returns with coffee for Sullivan. As Sullivan takes out a flask:)
WILLIAM: It’s already . . .
(Sullivan ignores this and pours. The others watch.)
SULLIVAN (Pouring): Anyone else?
(No response, then:)
LLOYD (Pointed): Miriam?
MIRIAM: No. Thank you.
(They are all seated now, either in chairs or on the ground.)
HELEN (Starting to get up): Maybe I should—
CATHERINE: Please, without you there’s no one to talk to.
(Helen hesitates, then sits back down.)
FRANK (To Miriam): She’s starting a school . . .
MIRIAM: You said. She’s attractive.
(Pause.)
SULLIVAN: I did some sketches at the beach. (To Lloyd) I left them in the car.
(Lloyd starts to get up.)
WILLIAM: I’ll get them.
(Lloyd sits back down.)
FRANK (To Lloyd): He wants you to get them.
(This stops William. Lloyd gets up and goes off to the car.)
(To Helen) My son. (Shakes his head) He now works for the pictures. He couldn’t get a real design job.
CATHERINE: It’s a good job.
FRANK: So he does things like—out of plywood. (Gestures off)
CATHERINE: It’s a good job at Paramount Pictures.
FRANK: So you had a nice time at the beach.
MIRIAM: Very nice. (Short pause) How long are we going to sit out here?
CATHERINE: What time is it now? (She looks at her watch) It is getting late. (She doesn’t move)
MIRIAM: I’m going to get a wrap, my shoulders are cold. Louis, are you comforta
ble out here?
SULLIVAN: I’ve got my coffee. I’ve got the plywood Roman Coliseum and the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.
MIRIAM: Is that really what that is?
SULLIVAN: I can squint and still see the ocean. I’ve got a Mayan-looking house behind me. Why would I want to be anywhere else.
MIRIAM: You’re not chilled?
SULLIVAN: No.
MIRIAM: Anyone else . . .? (No response. She goes off)
HELEN (To Sullivan): You’re from Chicago?
FRANK: Mister Sullivan is Chicago, Miss Girvin.
(Helen turns to Catherine.)
CATHERINE: I don’t know what that means either.
SULLIVAN: I am from Chicago. And where are you from?
HELEN: Me? I’m . . . here.
FRANK (To Catherine): When was the last time you and Miriam saw each other?
CATHERINE: We’ve never met.
FRANK: Ah. I didn’t realize that. (He did)
CATHERINE: She’s attractive. I love her sense of style. It’s all her own.
(Lloyd returns with the sketchbook.)
Lloyd says she has problems with drink.
(This stops Lloyd for a second, then:)
LLOYD (To Sullivan): I have your sketchbook. (Gives it to Sullivan)
CATHERINE (To Lloyd): Mother’s finally granting Father a divorce.
LLOYD: We knew this.
CATHERINE: Father was just talking about it.
FRANK: Is it the right time for this, Catherine?
(Miriam returns with her shawl.)
MIRIAM: Right time for what? (No response. Puts on her shawl) It’s gotten very chilly out here, hasn’t it?
CATHERINE (Getting up): I should go. My husband’s alone with Ann. It’s right about now that she begins conning him for candy.
FRANK (To Catherine): Children.
CATHERINE (Shaking his hand): Mister Sullivan, it is very nice to see you again, even though I don’t remember you at all. I think I was a baby. If there’s anything my husband or I can do to make your visit to Los Angeles more enjoyable . . .
SULLIVAN: Thank you, dear.
CATHERINE: It’s a beautiful place. And—for us—it’s home. Lloyd. (Kisses him on the cheek) Patience. (Goes up to Miriam) How do you do? I’m Catherine. The daughter. (Turns to Frank) Father. (No kiss) Don’t get up. I’ll see you again tomorrow.
(Frank looks confused.)
With Ann. She’s coming to Helen’s school. It’s the first day.
FRANK: Yes. That’s right.
CATHERINE: Two days in a row—seeing my father. When’s the last time that happened? Good night.
(She goes.)
HELEN (Starting to stand): I think I should be—
FRANK: No. It’s early. Please.
(Helen sits down on the grass.)
MIRIAM: I think I’d like a drink. Anyone else? (No response) Helen? It is Helen, isn’t it?
HELEN: I don’t drink.
(Miriam starts to go, stops.)
MIRIAM (To Helen): Where are you living?
HELEN (Points): Hollyhock House.
MIRIAM: Just there? (She looks at Frank, then back to Helen) That close. Do you know that seconds after Miss Barnsdall left for Europe, Frank was over there rearranging the furniture? He likes his houses lived in in a certain way.
HELEN: I know. (She smiles. After a look to Frank) That’s how we met. I was asleep and I heard this noise—it was Mister Wright moving a table.
MIRIAM: You were asleep?
HELEN (Smiling): Yes, and I—
MIRIAM: Did you come out in your robe? Your nightgown?
HELEN: I’m sorry?
MIRIAM: Did you put on a robe or not? (After a look at Frank) I’ll get myself a drink.
(She goes. And the men suddenly relax.)
SULLIVAN (As he sketches, to Frank): So Aline Barnsdall has gone to Europe? I hadn’t realized that. I hadn’t seen her—
(Frank nods.)
Is that a good thing? That she’s gone? You’re still building the school.
FRANK: She’s a client.
SULLIVAN: So it is a good thing. (We suddenly realize he is sketching Helen) Don’t move, dear. (To Frank) You know I knew her in Chicago. Aline.
FRANK: I didn’t know that.
SULLIVAN (To Helen): Do you mind, dear?
HELEN: No. No.
SULLIVAN: Before she moved here. (To Lloyd) You knew her, Lloyd. (To Frank) My hands don’t shake when I draw. Isn’t that extraordinary. Why is that?
LLOYD: I knew her.
FRANK (“To Helen”): Lloyd was married to one of Aline’s “set.” In Chicago.
LLOYD: She was an actress.
FRANK: She was that. How long did it last—a week? (Smiles to Helen) What was her name—Kelly?
LLOYD: Kirah. Her stage name.
FRANK (Big smile): Oh—her “stage name.”
(He smiles and winks at Helen, who smiles back.)
SULLIVAN: Don’t move, dear. (To Frank) Don’t make her laugh.
FRANK (“To Helen”): She had my poor son wrapped around her little finger. He knows nothing about women.
LLOYD: I didn’t know anything about her. But I soon learned. (Tries to laugh)
SULLIVAN (Drawing): At least we can laugh about it now.
FRANK (To the men): Aline Barnsdall always had very attractive friends. (To Helen) Still does. (He looks at Lloyd)
SULLIVAN (New subject): Miriam enjoyed the beach. She took off her shoes. I sat under an umbrella. But she seemed to like the sun. Lloyd was very good with her. (Sketches; then) Nice to see Catherine.
FRANK: Let me see. (Looks at Sullivan’s drawing) Lloyd’s a wonderful drawer. Better than both of us. (Calls) William! Bring us a couple of sketchbooks!
SULLIVAN (To Lloyd): And you said your father can’t compliment you.
FRANK (Continuing his thought): Which makes it even worse that he can’t get a job designing anything.
LLOYD: I work in the pictures.
FRANK: Anything real.
(Sullivan moves his chair to get a different angle of Helen. He starts another drawing.)
HELEN: May I see?
(They ignore her.)
SULLIVAN (To Lloyd): Do you have a girlfriend out here?
LLOYD: No.
(Sullivan nods toward Helen. Lloyd nearly blushes; Frank pretends to ignore this. William comes out with sketchbooks. Frank takes them and hands one to Lloyd.)
FRANK: Thank you. How’s Miriam? Don’t answer that.
LLOYD: I don’t want to (“draw”)—
FRANK: Draw. Show him how good you are. (To Sullivan) He apologizes for everything. Like his mother.
LLOYD: I wasn’t apologizing—
FRANK: Take it.
(Lloyd takes the sketchbook. William picks up a few remaining things and heads off. For a moment they all look at Helen, then:)
SULLIVAN (To Frank): I didn’t know you drew people.
FRANK: I don’t. I’m not good with people. I know that. I’m drawing a building. A home . . . (He draws)
LLOYD (To his father, as he draws): In the car, Mister Sullivan was telling Miriam and me about his . . . friend. She was—how old? Maybe forty?
SULLIVAN: About.
FRANK: I met her. (He draws) A great—beauty, wasn’t she, Louie? (No response) He never showed her off though. I met her just the once. I remember the hair—fire engine red. That reminds me, you know what Miss Barnsdall said to me before she left? She said: “I want my school to feel green, Mister Wright. Not look green—just feel that way.” (Shakes his head) Clients. (Back to the other subject) Red hair. A milliner? That’s what you said she was.
(Sullivan nods.)
What a shame she died.
SULLIVAN (Drawing): She was supposed to take care of me. (Starts a new sketch) A beautiful girl. (He begins to sketch the milliner from memory)
(Frank is sketching his imaginary house. Lloyd turns and begins to sketch his father. No one is looking at Helen now.)
HE
LEN (After a moment): Mind if I move?
(No one is even listening to her. She gets up, brushes off the grass from her skirt. This brushing gets Frank’s attention. He stops for a moment and watches Helen.)
FRANK (Watching Helen and drawing): In Tokyo, I set the doorknobs on the guest rooms of the hotel quite high. (Glances up at Helen) So those small Japanese maids had to stand on their tiptoes, Louie, to reach them. I like the look of that.
LLOYD (Sketching): That’s funny.
FRANK (To Lloyd, noticing): Why are you drawing me?
(Helen is standing.)
Let Miss Girvin have a seat.
HELEN: I don’t need—
FRANK: Lloyd.
HELEN: I was fine on the grass—
LLOYD (Standing): Take the seat. Please, take it.
(Helen reluctantly takes his seat. Lloyd stands, still sketching his father, and soon sits on the ground.)
FRANK (To Sullivan): Is that the milliner? Put more hair on her, people will think she’s a boy.
(Pause. They sketch. Then:)
HELEN (Blurts out): My brother—
(They look at her.)
Do you mind if I say something? Am I interrupting?
FRANK: No.
(Sullivan and Lloyd shake their heads.)
HELEN: My brother—is a writer. He writes for the pictures. (She smiles, thinking about what she is about to say) Sometimes, I can be talking to him, and it’s like I’m suddenly not even there. His mind— Who knows? But I know he’s thinking about some story he’s writing. Artists . . .
FRANK (Sketching): Are you sure that’s what he’s thinking about?
HELEN: That’s what he says.
FRANK: Oh. Then that must be it then.
(He shows her his sketch.)
HELEN: Is that a house you’re going to—?
FRANK: I don’t know. (He sets it down) Another home. I find I do it compulsively. Draw homes. Some I turn into houses. So tell me, Hollywood, it’s a nice place to live? (Before she can answer) It wasn’t just being in Japan for these years, it’s really the feeling that there is no place I call home. Or can. Which, given what I do, is a bit ironic, isn’t it? (Really speaking to Lloyd, but “through” Helen) My son here doesn’t understand. He hears only my criticism—which I mean as . . . My oldest children are here. My grandchild. The sons of bitches building their conservative marble monuments have yet to find their way out here.
SULLIVAN (Drawing; under his breath): Here, here.
FRANK: There comes a time when one needs or whatever to put one’s life’s pieces back together. I’m thinking this is the place. Which is why I asked, Helen.
Frank's Home Page 2
