by James Reston
MEGS: It’s opening day, guy.
DAVE: Rain check.
MARTHA: David, you made a date to go fishing. Joseph has the car loaded and ready to go.
DAVE: Joseph?
MEGS: I got beer, sandwiches. It’s a great adventure, guy.
DAVE: We plan this?
MEGS: Hey, last week. McDonald’s, remember? How you been, I said. Good, you said. We oughta get together, said me. Fine, said you. Fishing, said me, opening day. Opening day, said you. Hah?! Hah?! Guess what today is, guy!!
DAVE: I thought fishing season was in the fall.
MEGS: No, that’s huntin’. Don’t worry, we’ll do that too when the time comes. Opening day, Davey!
DAVE: I can’t.
MEGS: Opening day?
DAVE: Sorry.
MEGS: Rainbows this long.
DAVE: Not Up to it.
MEGS: Sure you are, Davey. A big ole nightcrawler on a hook? That’ll perk your ass up. I got one here so big those rainbows’ll have to be careful he don’t eat them.
And MEGS proudly displays one to DAVE, who almost gets sick.
DAVE: Yech.
MARTHA: Go take a shower. You’ll feel better.
DAVE: I’m passing.
MARTHA: You’re doing no such thing. Shower and get dressed. I’ll make breakfast for you both.
DAVE: I don’t want to go fishing, Martha.
MARTHA: You’re going.
DAVE: I don’t want to go fishing.
MARTHA: David, I want a trout. Fried in corn flour. There’s one waiting with my name on it.
MEGS: Davey? Hey, Davey? C’mon, guy. It’ll be a great time. There’s frost in the air and wondrous strange snow on the ground. The trout streams are gurglin’ and singing. Know what they’re sayin’? Wake up, Davey. It’s time. It’s time. Openin’ day with your ole buddy, Megs. Damn! Makes me want to paint my face and pretend I’m Hiawatha. Whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo! Fish-ing! Fish-ing! (HE keeps up his noise till DAVE says OK)
DAVE: Megs, I . . . I don’t . . . ahhh! OK!! (Exiting) I must have a screw loose.
MEGS: Never doubted it for a minute.
DAVE: I’m sleeping in the car.
MEGS: You’ll sleep, I’ll drive. Hey! You’re beautiful! Don’t you ever forget that.
DAVE (Offstage): God.
MARTHA: He didn’t look very beautiful to me. Not in those baggy drawers of his.
MEGS: Martha, you’re too much, you know that? You are. Something. He was not gonna go and you talked him into it.
MARTHA: I didn’t talk him into anything.
MEGS (Putting his hands affectionately on MARTHA’s arms): Ain’t you modest. I saw.
MARTHA (Coldly): I was making coffee.
And MARTHA enters the kitchen. MEGS follows.
MEGS: Hey, y’know, Martha, instant’s fine with me. I drink so much instant my stomach’s freeze-dried.
MARTHA: I find instant coffee foul. You’ll have to make do with ground for drip.
MEGS: Drip? We’ll go for it! I’ll pretend I fell asleep and woke up in Dunkin Donuts. Hey, you got any milk? (And HE sticks his nose in MARTHA’s refrigerator)
MARTHA (Annoyed): Yes, of course I’ve got milk.
MEGS (Bringing it out): Thank God for that. Powdered creamer? I hate that shit. It tastes like powdered mouseballs to me. (Pause) Oh goddam, listen to me talk. Give me a bar a soap and I’ll wash my mouth out as far down as my tonsils. Maybe it’ll learn me to talk like a human being in front of a lady.
MARTHA: A lady? Really . . . besides, I’m used to it. I teach high school students, mouths like spittoons.
MEGS: Rap’m smartly upside the head. That’ll learn’m.
MARTHA: My major was in biology, not the martial arts.
MEGS: Well, you ever have any problems, you let me know. I’m not good for much but one thing I could do is put the fear a God into a bunch a young punks. They oughta be bringin’ you apples and candy and havin’ crushes on you and stuff.
MARTHA: That’ll be the day. (Pause) You must of been a delightful student.
MEGS: Me? Oh no, I was never any good at school. I specialized in Phys Ed, auto shop and smokin’ in the lavatories. I’da driven you crazy.
MARTHA: I doubt it. I’ve developed a high tolerance level.
MEGS: I woulda. I could never keep my mouth shut. Everybody’d be laughin’. Not with me, at me. I didn’t care. I liked the attention. (Pause) Hey, you, Martha! I bet you was a hell of a student. (Pause. MARTHA looks at him suspiciously) Well, were ya?
MARTHA: Yes, I was. I was mad for it.
MEGS: No!
MARTHA (Proudly): I loved to study. Straight A’s in every subject.
MEGS: You’re something, Martha. It must be great to be so smart.
MARTHA (Gloating): Yes, it is.
MEGS: I was dumber’n paint. But I sure as hell woulda brought you apples and candy, Martha. You can bet your sweet ass on that! (And without thinking, HE swats MARTHA on the rump) Sorry.
MARTHA: What would you like for breakfast?
MEGS: Hey, anything. Everything. My eyes could be bigger’n basketballs, they still wouldn’t be bigger than my stomach.
MARTHA: I like pancakes on Saturday mornings.
MEGS: I do too. I love’m. Give me pancakes and the roadrunner on TV and Saturday morning is complete.
MARTHA: I like sausage too.
MEGS: Squealers? Sausage goes good with pancakes.
MARTHA: You’ll have that then?
MEGS: Sausage and pancakes?
MARTHA: Would you rather eggs?
MEGS: Hey, how ’bout all three?
MARTHA: Why didn’t I think of that.
MEGS: Goddam, Martha! Eggs and pancakes and sausage, it feels like Easter or something. And do you know what we’ll have to go with it? Beer! I got a couple a cases in the car.
MARTHA: For breakfast? That’s horrible.
MEGS: Breakfast beer. It’s the best kind. Martha, ain’t you ever had a beer for breakfast?
MARTHA: Joseph, there are those of us who have never had a beer.
MEGS: No! Woman, you are in for a treat. You sip on a breakfast beer and first thing you know, the cobwebs go, your voice rises two octaves, and God almighty, the sun comes up inside you! I’ll go get some! (And HE runs out of the kitchen, through the living room and out the front door)
MARTHA: Joseph, I hardly . . . all right.
MARTHA begins to take things from the refrigerator. DAVE, dressed, comes down the stairs and into the kitchen. HE looks around.
DAVE: He leave?
MARTHA: He went to the car to get beer.
DAVE: Good. I could use one.
MARTHA: David, it happens to be five in the morning.
DAVE: You better believe it.
MARTHA: The idea is nauseating. You can’t drink beer.
DAVE: I can. What an asshole.
MARTHA: Sshh, He’ll hear you.
DAVE: I was talking about me. I wish you hadn’t sided with him, Martha. He was gonna leave.
MARTHA: He looked so hurt when he thought you might of forgotten.
DAVE: I had forgotten, Martha, why is it you’re a hardass with everything but stray animals? Bring’m in, give’m a warm bowl of milk, who ends up cleaning the turds off the floor? Me.
MARTHA: Hardly, Besides, your friend doesn’t qualify as an animal.
DAVE (Preoccupied): He’s not my friend. He’s just somebody I know. We were in Vietnam together.
MARTHA (Interested): Oh. (Pause) I like him.
DAVE: You don’t know him, sis.
MARTHA: I’m entided to my first impressions. He’s endearing is what he is.
DAVE: Endearing? (HE laughs) God, Martha, what do you know about endearing? (HE sips from the coffee MARTHA has brought him. HE makes a free) I wish he’d hurry up with that beer.
MARTHA: I wouldn’t think you could stomach it after all you had last night. I assume the empties were just the start.
DAVE: Come on. I work hard all week. I
’m entitled to cut loose on the weekend. You ought to try it sometime. It’d do you good.
Pause.
MARTHA: I’d love to. You can take me with you tonight.
DAVE (Again preoccupied): Forget it.
MARTHA: Why not? All you ever do is go out with the boys. I’d think you might like a woman around for a change.
DAVE: Women we can use, a sister we don’t need. Besides, I date.
MARTHA: I’ve seen the kind of woman you date. Their idea of contributing to a conversation is to snap their chewing gum. Don’t you think you might like a point of view for a change?
DAVE: I want a point of view, I’ll listen to the news.
MARTHA: I’ll be silent then. Unresponsive, unobtrusive, the kind of women men like.
DAVE: How do you know what men like? (Laughing) God, Martha, you’re too much, you know that? You’ve hardly been out with anybody in your whole life but you’re the authority on the subject.
MARTHA: David? Piss up a rope.
DAVE (Surprised): What’d I say already?
MARTHA: Just . . . drink your juice.
MEGS rushes through the front door, through the living room and into the kitchen. HE is carrying two sixes of beer. HE puts them on the counter.
MEGS: Beer! We got it! I had to chop it out of the ice chest with a screwdriver! Be careful, it’s colder than Alaska. One for you, one for me, and the by-God coldest a the bunch for you, Martha. Blow on it first, otherwise your tongue’ll stick to the can. (HE holds out a beer to MARTHA)
DAVE: Forget it, Megs. Martha doesn’t drink beer.
MEGS: Oh. Well, hey, it is early. (And HE flips it in the air, catches it and sets it down)
DAVE: Any time of the day is too early for her.
MARTHA: David? (And SHE picks up the can of beer)
DAVE: Yeah?
MARTHA: To opening day. (SHE opens it. Shaken, it sprays her. Undaunted, SHE takes a mammoth gulp)
MEGS: To opening day, by damn!
MARTHA takes the can down from her lips. Her eyes are watering and SHE is breathless.
DAVE (Sarcastic): How’s it taste, sis?
MARTHA (Raising the can in toast): To trout! (SHE takes an even bigger gulp)
MEGS (Impressed): Are we gonna catch us the limit or what? Breakfast beer, Martha!
Pause as MARTHA struggles to hold it down.
MARTHA (Breathless but with a challenging look at DAVE): I have a confession, Joseph. I think I like beer.
DAVE: Terrific.
MEGS: I should say so! Finish that one off, I’ll crack you another one.
MARTHA: I’ll take it upstairs. I’ll have to get dressed if I’m coming with you.
DAVE: What?
MEGS: You’re coming along, Martha?
MARTHA: You invited me.
MEGS. Oh, this is so great. The rainbows’ll never know what hit’m.
MARTHA (Slapping DAVE on the shoulder): Yes, I’m sure they’ll be jumping in my lap dying to hear my women’s point of view. (SHE starts to exit)
DAVE: Forget it, Martha.
MARTHA: Joseph doesn’t mind, do you, Joseph?
MEGS: Mind? I should say not. I’m happy you’re coming, Martha. If I’da known you wanted to, I’da asked you twice.
MARTHA (Exiting): I’ll get ready.
MEGS: And don’t you worry about breakfast. We’ll stop along the way is what we’ll do. We’ll eat enough pancakes to build a house. On me! A woman doesn’t buy when I’m around.
DAVE (Sarcastic): Dress warm sis.
MARTHA (Offstage): David?
DAVE: Yeah?
MARTHA (Offstage): Up a rope!
MEGS (Laughing): She’s great, your sister. I like her. (HE puts on a Boston Bed Sox hat that HE pulls from his pocket. It is old and well worn) Hah!? Hah!? Opening day and we’re goin’ for it.
DAVE: Let’s not.
MEGS: Huh?
DAVE: Let’s say we have Martha make us some breakfast, we’ll shoot the shit awhile, and you hit the road and let me get some sleep ’cause let me tell you, Megs, I don’t feel good.
MEGS: You didn’t recognize the hat, did ya? I wear it for luck.
DAVE: Bad luck, huh?
MEGS: It’s changed its ways. It didn’t like it over there in Nam any better than we did. It’s not mine, it’s Bobby’s.
DAVE: Didn’t help ole Bobby much, did it?
MEGS: It’s helpin’ me.
DAVE: Listen, don’t get started.
MEGS: Sorry.
Pause.
DAVE: So . . . don’t see you around much, Megs.
MEGS: I been puttin’ a lot of hours at the garage. Hey, sweet bear, I opened up my own garage.
DAVE: You quit drivin’?
MEGS: It was time. Time to give those whores a rest, huh?
DAVE: Tell me about it.
MEGS: Yeah, but you’re still barrelassin’ ’cross them amber waves a grain, ain’tcha?
DAVE: Got a cake run. Produce distribution. Suits me fine.
MEGS: You ride’m, I’ll repair’m! Did you know they hide under rocks?
DAVE: Who?
MEGS: Trout, guy! The speckled little bastards, they hide under rocks! Now what kind of a life is that, huh?
DAVE: You ever caught a trout?
MEGS (Sheepish): No . . . but I been practicin’! I been casting in the backyard! I had that line singing through the air like a bullwhip! Till I got snagged. Neighbor’s sheet. Ripped the hell out it. Boy, was she pissed. Good fishermen file the barbs off their hooks.
DAVE: Come on. Who told you that?
MEGS: TV! The American Sportsman! Watch Don Meredith hunt anacondas with a bowie knife! Trout fishin’! You file off the barbs so they have a chance.
DAVE: Right. We gonna do that?
MEGS: No fuckin’ way, Jose!! Don’t tell Martha, stud, but I got a feelin’ the only way I’m gonna catch a fish is to drain the pond. We’ll see! We’ll see! Damn! This trout fishin’ is a good time!
DAVE: Great. Terrific.
MEGS: Y’know, I only wear Bobby’s hat on special occasions.
DAVE: Megs . . .
MEGS: No, really! Like when one of my kids needs a home run.
DAVE: Kids? What kids?
MEGS: Hey, I coached little league this last summer. Peewees. We screamed and hollered and lost every game. They want me for this year too. They like me,
DAVE: You’re just a likable guy. God . . . I gotta lie down.
DAVE enters the living room, HE lies on the couch, MEGS follows.
MEGS: A home run in the ninth!?
DAVE: What?
MEGS: You liked the Yankees, Bobby liked the Red Sox. You guys bet. Bobby won on Carl Yastrzemski’s home run in the ninth,
DAVE: That’s right. Five bucks we bet.
MEGS: He loved those Red Sox, huh? Ole Bobby? Crazy for’m. He wanted us all to go to Fenway Park, remember? Beer and hot dogs, huh? Scream till we’re hoarse. We oughta do that sometime, sweet Davey. Baseball season’s just around the corner.
DAVE: Forget it.
MEGS: It’d be fun.
DAVE: Forget it.
MEGS: How come?
Pause.
DAVE: Hold out your hands.
MEGS (Hiding them): Aw, Davey . . . I ain’t put my fists through glass in a long time.
DAVE: I’ve heard that before.
MEGS: Look at me now, Davey, huh? Look at me. Fat and happy. I bet you never seen me looking so good, guy.
DAVE: You look the same as before. (Sarcastic) Guy.
MEGS (With an edge): And you. You look real good too. And you just stagger into me in the parking lot of ole McDonaldland. Damn. Fate’s a funny thing. (Pause) So talk to me some, huh?
DAVE: Talk? About what? (And HE rises, goes to the liquor cabinet, gets a bottle of whiskey from underneath. HE takes a sip, offers it to MEGS)
MEGS: Never touch it, stud. Be wasted on me. Be like puttin’ ethyl alcohol in a lawnmower. (HE is at the trophy case, HE picks up a photo) These your fo
lks, huh?
DAVE: Huh? Yeah.
MEGS: Nice-lookin’ mom. Sorta like Martha.
DAVE: She moved to Florida about a year ago. She didn’t like the cold. She calls once a week and she and Martha gang up on me.
MEGS: Maybe too many memories of your dad around here too, huh?
DAVE: Maybe.
MEGS: Musta been tough, Davey. Musta been real tough. You come hobblin’ off the plane on those crutches a yours and they lay that on you.
DAVE: Yeah. I was pissed. It was my dad’s gung-ho vet shit that got me to enlist in the first place and I’d been fantasizing for months on how the first thing I was gonna do was deck the son of a bitch. I felt cheated.
MEGS (Picking up a photograph): Hey, is this Martha? (DAVE looks, laughs) Whoo, she’s changed, stud. Blossomed. (Picking up a plaque) And would you look at this? All League!
DAVE: Team captain.
MEGS (Picking up another photo): Goddam! Look at you! Nice tie, studhoss. When’s this?
DAVE: Senior year.
MEGS: Would ya look at them apple cheeks?
DAVE: Future fuckin’ lawyers club.
MEGS: You was gonna be a lawyer, Davey?
DAVE: What?
MEGS: You know, was that what you was, like, plannin’? To be a lawyer? After?
DAVE: I was gonna be everything, man. You name it, I was gonna be it.
MEGS: Hey. Know what all this is, Davey? Memories. Stuff to show your kids.
DAVE: Come off it, man. It’s a bad joke. Something out of Archie Comics. (Calls up the stairs) Hey, Martha! Let’s go if we’re going to go!
MEGS (Calls up to MARTHA): Dress warm, woman! We want you to catch rainbows, not your death of cold! Hey, sweet Davey, you think maybe she likes me?
DAVE: Come off it, man. You two are from different planets. Only reason she’s comin’ along is to bust my ass.
MEGS: Oh. Yeah. I guess you’re right. (Pause) Sun’s coming up. Real pretty. Remember the sunrises? Over there? They were beauties, huh? Yeah. Remember what ole Bobby’d say? If it wasn’t for the C-rations we could pretend we was in Hawaii. Remember him sayin’ that? I do. (Pause) Know what I hated? The waiting.
DAVE: Yeah. They always had to let us know in advance when we’d be goin’ out.
MEGS: Me, I never got used to it. Made me want to piss my pants every time. Only way I could bear it was to get up for it, y’know? Something set in. It was like I was numb and speedin’ at the same time.
DAVE: Christ, you listening to yourself?
