by James Reston
COOTIE (Registering it alt): Holy shit!
MIKE and COOTIE leave the room.
SHELLY (Yells): Creeps. (To RUTH) You got any first-aid stuff?
RUTH: Yeah. (SHE gets a box from the pantry. It’s a huge white box with a red cross on it, obviously stolen)
BOB: Hey, what happened?
NORMAN (Sits): I’m all right.
SHELLY: Don’t talk, Norman. Would you make him some coffee?
RUTH: Yeah. Those guys said you burned yourself.
NORMAN: No, I’m O.K.
RUTH makes coffee while SHELLY ties a bandage around NORMAN’s wrist.
SHELLY: Sorry if this hurts. Hey, Ruth, those guys are really bastards. They gotta learn you don’t joke around sometimes.
BOB: Hey, were you really gonna burn yourself?
NORMAN: Well, you know . . .
SHELLY: We were all supposed to do it. All four of us. We waited all this time for them to graduate with good grades and everything. Six months almost. I mean, like, the war could’ve ended. Fucking creeps. They went and put water in the gasoline can.
NORMAN: I think I might be getting a cold.
SHELLY: We’re making coffee, Norman. Keep cool.
BOB: Hey, were you really serious?
NORMAN: Well, I thought, you know, with the war and everything.
SHELLY: Water, shit.
NORMAN: Well, there was some gas in that can.
SHELLY: Fucking creeps.
NORMAN: I definitely smelled some gas when I poured it over me.
SHELLY: Hold still, Norman.
NORMAN: I mean, I knew there was something wrong when I kept holding the match to my wrist and nothing happened.
SHELLY: What do you mean, nothing happened? What’s wrong with you, Norman? You call that burn on your wrist nothing? It’s the worst burn I ever saw. We’re lucky we didn’t get arrested.
NORMAN: I’ve seen movies of the Buddhist monks setting themselves on fire. They usually go up pretty quick in the movies. I bet it hurts a lot. My wrist really hurts.
RUTH (Brings NORMAN some coffee): Listen, we have to be out of here by tomorrow.
NORMAN: All right.
RUTH: Well, what are you gonna do?
NORMAN: I haven’t thought about it too much. I thought I was going to be dead by now. I hadn’t planned beyond that.
RUTH: You got a place to stay?
SHELLY: He’ll stay with me.
NORMAN: Yeah, O.K.
RUTH: We’ll have to have a big cleanup in case Willis comes around.
NORMAN: I was thinking maybe I’ll try to get back into graduate school. I’m getting sick of washing dishes.
BOB has been taking down his map of Europe from the wall.
BOB: I think I’ll go to Europe.
NORMAN: I’m not really angry at Mel and Mike. In a way I’m kind of glad I’m not dead.
SHELLY: I think those two guys are really evil.
RUTH goes down the hall.
BOB: You ever been to France?
SHELLY: I went last summer.
BOB: What’s it like?
SHELLY: Shitty. They’re really uptight in France. I got busted in Calais. Two weeks in prison with the runs. That’s no joke.
BOB: Maybe England.
NORMAN: I was in England once.
BOB: What’s it like?
NORMAN: I went on a bicycle trip with the Youth Hostel Organization. My father sent me.
BOB: How was it?
NORMAN: It was O.K.
SHELLY: England’s a lousy place.
NORMAN: I don’t know. I met some nice people. I saw Buckingham Palace. The food’s not very good, but it didn’t rain much. I guess it was a pretty valuable experience. I remember thinking at the time my horizons were a lot wider after that trip. I don’t remember why I thought that. Maybe I’ll go back there one day.
BOB: Oh, well, there’s always Italy or Greece.
SHELLY: If you go over there, check out Algeria. Algeria’s really something else,
MR. WILLIS opens the door.
WILLIS: O.K. if I step in? Hey, what have you done to your hand?
NORMAN: It’s just a burn.
WILLIS: Too bad, huh? Look, how’s about if I see everyone for a minute? Everybody here?
BOB (Yelling): DICK, RUTH, MIKE, COOTIE, C’MERE A MINUTE. MR WILLIS WANTS US.
WILLIS: Hey, hey, hey, you don’t have to do that. You don’t have to yell on account of me. (ALL come in) Hi, how’s everybody? Gettin’ ready for the big day? You gonna wear them long robes and everything, hey? All that fancy ceremony. Pretty good, huh? Listen, I just wanna give the place a quick once-over because I’ll tell you why. I got this tenant moving in pretty soon, so I gotta be sure everything’s O.K. Get rid of them milk bottles, that’s the first thing, and I’ll pick up the rent for this month, O.K.? How ’bout this floor, huh? You gonna finish it? Hey, I asked a question, who’s supposed to be doing this floor?
BOB: I am, Mr. Willis.
WILLIS: So how come you leave it half-finished?
BOB: Sorry, I never got the time.
WILLIS: Well, you get it. I give you good money for them tiles, put me back a hunnered bucks. How many landlords you find’ll do that?
BOB: Yeah, O.K.
WILLIS: By tomorrow night, understand? Now, let’s have a little look round the place, (HE goes down the hall followed by BOB, RUTH, COOTIE and MIKE)
NORMAN: Mike, (MIKE turns) Listen, I just want to tell you, I’m not angry about what happened.
MIKE: What do you mean?
SHELLY: You’re a real creep pulling a trick like that.
MIKE: That’s what I get for saving his life?
SHELLY: It’s none of your business. It’s the existential right of every living person to take his own life.
MIKE: No one’s stopping you now.
NORMAN: What I wanted to say is, if you and Mel are coming back next year to go to graduate school, maybe we can share a place. I mean, you know, I could come down here early and look around.
MIKE: You going home for the summer?
SHELLY: He’s staying with me.
NORMAN: Yeah, well I might go home for a few weeks. Visit my folks. The best way is you write to my father, care of the Police Department, Erie County, and if I’m not at home he’ll know where to forward it.
MIKE: Right. Me and Cootie’ll be up in the great Northwest Territory helping Dad with the furs. If you don’t hear from us, just go ahead and find a place for all of us, ’cause sometimes the mail gets delayed.
NORMAN: Don’t worry, I’ll get a place.
MIKE: Commissioner of Police, Erie County.
NORMAN: That’s right.
MIKE smiles at him, not without warmth. In come COOTIE, RUTH, BOB, DICK and MR. WILLIS.
WILLIS: Not bad. I’ll tellya what I’ll do. I’ll keep the fifty-dollar deposit for holes in the plaster and the broken window.
COOTIE: Hey, we didn’t break that window. That was broken when we moved in.
WILLIS: That’s not my problem, Cootie. I keep the fifty and if any of you guys got an objection, you want to take it up with me, let’s have it. Look, I got a living to make like everybody else in town. Maybe you think I’m being a rotten guy, but you wait. You go out there in the world and you’re gonna see things, you’ll think old Willis was Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs all rolled into one. You’re gonna see dishonesty, you’re gonna see mean people, you see swindlers, killers, queers, you see guys trying to double-park on Saturday morning, you take my word. The thing I love about you kids is you’re honest, you’re direct. There’s no shitting around with you. Yeah, I know it sounds corny, but I’m gonna miss having you guys around. You gotta save this poor fuckin’ country, and excuse my language. There was a time, I can remember, when you paid your taxes and you knew your money was goin’ into the right things. Good, wholesome things. Look at it nowadays. Two blocks away there’s a house full of guys known all over the neighborhood to practice open homosexuality. O
pen homosexuality two blocks away, and there’s kids playing right outside that house every day. I don’t know. I’d go jump in the lake if it wasn’t for you kids. I never knew anyone like you, and I been around, let me tellya. You know where you are, you know where you’re going, and you know how to get there. That’s never happened before in the history of this whole fucking country. God bless you kids, and good luck. I’ll take a check for the rent.
COOTIE starts “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”; the OTHERS join in.
GROUP (Singing):
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
That nobody can deny.
That nobody can deny.
That nobody can deny.
(Etc., all the way through. WILLIS beams, entirely unaware of the spoof)
Scene 7
The next afternoon. The kitchen is bare of furniture. The icebox is gone, only a few milk bottles left. Only one chair left. BOB is laying the vinyl tiles. COOTIE comes into the room with his FATHER, HE grabs the last valise by the front door.
COOTIE: Hey, Bob, I’m going.
BOB: Yeah, we’ll see you.
COOTIE: Yeah.
MIKE (Comes into the kitchen from the hall door): You going?
COOTIE: Yeah. Oh, this is my father. That’s Mike, that’s Bob.
BOB: Hi.
MIKE: Hi.
FATHER: A pleasure.
MIKE: What?
FATHER: It’s a pleasure meeting you.
MIKE: Oh, yeah, right.
COOTIE: Well, see you guys. Hey, what you doing next year?
BOB: Oh, I got a job in a department store.
COOTIE: Playing piano?
BOB: Harp.
COOTIE: Great. Well, see ya.
BOB: See ya.
MIKE: Yeah, see ya, Cootie.
FATHER: Nice meeting you boys.
COOTIE leaves with his FATHER.
MIKE: They don’t look like each other. Good old Cootie. Where’s Norman?
BOB: He left about an hour ago.
MIKE: Never said good-bye or anything.
BOB: You should’ve seen it, putting all his stuff in the back of a police car.
MIKE: What?
BOB: Yeah, his old man’s Commissioner of Police, or something.
MIKE: I’ll be fucked.
RUTH comes in from the hall with two suitcases and sets them down by some other suitcases near the door.
RUTH: I guess that’s it. Where’s Cootie?
MIKE: He just left with his dad.
RUTH: Some friend. No good-bye or anything.
MIKE: We’ll see him next year.
RUTH: No we won’t.
MIKE and RUTH go down the hall for their last luggage, DICK and the MILKMAN enter through the front door with empty cartons. THEY load the remaining bottles.
DICK: Hey, I wouldn’t mind a little help here. I gotta catch a train.
MILKMAN: I don’t understand you guys. You’re supposed to be college graduates. Eight hundred and fifty-seven two-quart milk bottles. That’s not the kind of thing a grown-up person does. You’re supposed to be grownups, I don’t get it.
The phone is ringing.
DICK: That’s the last one.
MILKMAN: O.K. I just hope you guys don’t think you can go through life hoarding milk bottles like this. I got enough to do without this, I got a regular route. (To DICK) Look, if you want to pick up a lot of bottles, put your fingers right down inside, you get more that way.
DICK. O.K. Hey, you guys, you’re a lot of help.
MILKMAN and DICK go out with their cartons.
BOB (Answering phone): Hello, oh, yes, how are you? No, this is Bob. Bob Rettie. No, music. Yes, of course I remember you. No, he’s not in right now.
MIKE and RUTH have reentered, motioning BOB that THEY have to go. HE motions back that it’s O.K. HE waves good-bye as THEY pick up their suitcases and begin to leave.
RUTH: Hey, good luck.
BOB: Yeah, yeah, you too. See ya, Mike.
MIKE: See ya.
RUTH and MIKE exit through front door.
BOB (Back to phone): Sorry, Mrs. Roper, I was just saying good-bye to some people I . . . some friends of mine. I don’t know if he’ll be back or not. Can I leave a message? (Pause) Look, Mrs. Roper, I’m very sorry about that but there’s nothing I can do if he’s gone. I can tell him to call you if he comes back, Mrs. Roper, look, calm down. Listen, I’m hanging up now, all right? I gotta hang up now. Good-bye, Mrs. Roper.
BOB hangs up and returns to the floor tiles. DICK comes in alone through front door.
DICK: Boy, that guy was sure pissed off about the bottles. You should’ve seen the look on his face.
BOB: Hey, you know that guy you studied with, Professor Roper?
DICK (Pause): Yes.
BOB: His wife just called.
DICK: What’d she want?
BOB: She just . . . I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. Pretty weird.
DICK: Yeah, pretty weird. (HE puts on his coat and takes up his begs)
BOB: Hey, Dick.
DICK: What?
THEY look at each other.
BOB: I don’t know. See ya.
DICK: Yeah. (As HE is leaving, HE sees KATHY, who is standing in the doorway)
KATHY: Hi. Can I come in? (DICK moves aside. HE and BOB stare at her. This makes her a little nervous) Everyone gone?
DICK and BOB(Together): Yeah . . . (THEY exchange a nervous glance)
BOB: Except for me and Dick. We’re still here. We’re right in front of you, as a matter of fact. . . .
DICK: That’s a nice coat she’s wearing. That’s a very nice coat, Kathy.
KATHY (Knows something is going on but doesn’t know what): Thanks.
BOB: Hey, Dick. (DICK leaves) See ya. (To himself)
KATHY: Finishing the floor?
BOB: Evidently.
KATHY: Kind of late, isn’t it? (Pause) Did they send my grades here?
BOB: Right there. You did really shitty.
KATHY (Gets the letter): Bob, listen . . . I’m sorry about . . . sounds pretty silly.
BOB: No, I accept your apology for whatever you think you did.
KATHY: I saw Ruth the other day. She said you’ve been . . . well, pretty bad this semester.
BOB: Did she say that?
KATHY: I wish I’d known . . . couldn’t you have . . . you should have told me to stay.
BOB: Well, it slipped my mind. Sorry.
KATHY: You shouldn’t be so ashamed of your feelings.
BOB: O.K.
KATHY: I’m serious. You’ve gotta learn to let go. Like your music. It’s all squenched and tidy.
BOB: O.K. I’ll work on that.
KATHY: Oh, Bob.
BOB: What?
KATHY: I really wish you’d’ve told me. I’d’ve come back. I never really related to Richard.
BOB: I’ll tell him when I see him.
KATHY: Yeah, you’re right. Why the hell should you be nice? Oh, well, good luck . . . and, you know, when you see your mother say hello for me.
BOB: O.K.
KATHY: How is she?
BOB: She’s O.K. Sort of dead.
KATHY: I like her, Bob. You’re lucky. She’s, you know, she’s a real person.
BOB: No, she’s you know, a real corpse.
KATHY: All right, have it your way.
BOB: No, it’s not what I wanted particularly. No, taken all in all, from various different angles, I’d’ve preferred it if she lived. I’m pretty sure of that.
KATHY (Pause): She’s not really . . .?
BOB: School’s over.
KATHY: Bob, do you know what you’re saying?
BOB: Kathy, please get the fuck out of here.
KATHY: But, I mean, Ruth never told me. . . . Didn’t you tell anyone?
BOB: Yeah, I just told you.
KATHY: But, I mean . . . when . . . when did . . .
BOB: Ch
ristmas, No, no, it was the day after.
KATHY (Sits): Jesus, Bob, why didn’t you tell anyone? I mean, how could you live for six months without telling someone?
BOB (No emotion): Oh, I don’t know. A little cunning. A little fortitude. A little perseverance. (Pause) I couldn’t believe it. Not the last time anyway. They put her in this room. I don’t know what you call it. They bring everybody there just before they kick the bucket. They just sort of lie there looking at each other, wondering what the hell they got in common to talk about. I couldn’t believe that anyone could look like she looked and still be alive. (Pause) She knew. I’m sure of that. (Pause) Once, I remember, she tried to tell me something. I mean this noise came out of somewhere around her mouth, like somebody running a stick over a fence or something, and I thought maybe she’s trying to tell me something. So I leaned over to hear better and I caught a whiff of that breath. Like fried puke. And I was sick all over her. (Pause. Brighter) But you want to know something funny, and I mean this really is funny, so you can laugh if you like. There was this lady dying next to my mother and she kept talking about her daughter Susan. Well, Susan came to visit the day I puked on Mom. And you know what? It was only Susan Weinfeld, which doesn’t mean anything to you, but she happens to have been the girl I spent a good many of my best months as a sophomore in high school trying to lay. In fact, her virginity almost cost me a B plus in history and here we were, six years later, staring at each other across two dying mothers. I want to tell you something, Kathy. She looked fantastic. And I could tell she was thinking the same thing about me. I mean that kind of scene doesn’t happen every day. It was like . . . (thinks) . . . it was like how we were the first time. Maybe, just possibly, a little better. So we went out and had a coffee in Mister Donut and started groping each other like crazy under the counter, and I mean we just couldn’t keep our hands off each other, so I suggested we get a cab down to my mother’s place since, you know, there happened to be no one there at the moment. But the funniest thing was when we get down to Mom’s place and you know all those stairs you have to go up and there’s Susan all over me practically screaming for it and I start fumbling around with the keys in the lock and none of them would fit. I must’ve tried every key about fifty fucking times and none of them would fit. Boy, what a drag. (Pause) Oh, we got in all right. Finally. I had to go downstairs, through the Salvatores’ apartment, out the window, up the fire escape, and through Mom’s place, but when I opened the front door, guess what? There’s poor old Susan asleep on the landing. She really looked cute. I hated to wake her up. Anyway, by the time we’d made coffee and talked and smoked about a million cigarettes each we didn’t feel like it anymore. Not really. We did it anyway but, you know, just to be polite, just to make some sense out of the evening. It was, taken all in all, a pretty ordinary fuck. The next morning we made plans to meet again that night. We even joked about it, you know, about what a super-fucking good time we’d have, and if you ask me, we could’ve probably really gotten into something incredible if we’d tried again, but when I went to the hospital I found out good old Mom had croaked sometime during the night, and somehow, I still don’t know why to this day . . . I never got in touch with Susan again. And vice versa. It’s a funny thing, you know. At the funeral there were all these people. Friends of Mom’s—I didn’t know any of them. They were all crying like crazy and I . . . well . . . (Pause) I never even got to the burial. The car I was in broke down on the Merritt Parkway. Just as well. I didn’t feel like seeing all those people. I’d sure love to have fucked Susan again, though.
