AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY

BY TRACY LETTS

 

The Weston
Family:

·       Beverly Weston, sixty-nine
years old

·       Violet Weston, Bev’s wife, sixty~five years ,old

·       Barbara Fordham, Bev and
Violet’s daughter, forty-six years old Bill Fordham, her husband, forty-nine
years old

·       Jean Fordham, their daughter,
fourteen years old

·       Ivy Weston, Bev and Violet’s
daughter, forty-four years old Karen Weston, Bev and Violet’s daughter, forty
years old Mattie Fae Aiken, Violet’s sister, fifty-seven years old Charlie
Aiken, Mattie Fay’s husband, sixty years old

·       Little Charles Aiken .. their son, thirty-seven years old

Others:

·       Johnna Monevata, housekeeper,
twenty-six years old

·       Steve Heidebrecht, Karen’s fiance, fifty years old

·       Sheriff Deon Gilbeau,
forty-seven years old

Place

A large country home outside Pawhuska, Oklahoma, sixty miles
northwest of Tulsa

Time

August 2007

Prologue

A rambling country house outside
Pawhuska, Oklahoma, sixty miles northwest of Tulsa. More than a century old,
the house was probably built by a clan of successful Irish homesteaders.
Additions, renovations and repairs have essentially modernized the house until
I972 or so, when all structural care ceased

The First Floor:

The three main playing areas are
separated by entryways. Stage-right, the dining room. The Mission-style table
seats eight; the matching sideboard holds the fine china.
A tatty crystal-tiered chandelier hangs over the table and casts a gloomy
yellow light. An archway upstage leads to a sitting room. A rotary-dial
telephone rests on a small side table, beside an upholstered chair. Further
upstage, a doorway leads to a hallway, off

Downstage-center, the living room. Hide-a-bed,
TV, hi-fi turntable, Wurlitzer electric piano

Left, the study. A medium-sized desk is
piled with books, legal pads, manila folders, notepaper. An archway upstage
leads to the house’s front door, landing, and a stairway to the second floor.
Further upstage, a doorway opens onto a partial view of the kitchen

Far left, the front porch, strewn with
dead grass and a few rolled-up small-town newspapers

The Second Floor:

The stairway arrives at a landing (above
the sitting room on the first floor). A cushioned window seat, a hallway
leading to the bedrooms, off, and another stairway leading to
..

The Attic:

A single chamber, center, with peaked
roof and slanted walls, inexpensively modeled into a bedroom

The house is filled with books. All the
windows in the house have been covered with cheap plastic shades. Black duct
tape seals the edge of the shades, effecting a complete absence of outside
light

At rise: Lit dimly by his desk lamp,
BEVERLY Weston, drunk, nurses a glass of whiskey as he “interviews” JOHNNA
Monevata

BEVERLY: "Life
is very long …"

T. S. Eliot. I mean … he’s given credit for it because he bothered to write
it down. He’s not the first person to say it … certainly not the first person
to think it. Feel it. But he wrote the words on a sheet of paper and signed it and the four-eyed prick was a genius … so if you say
it, you have to say his name after it

"Life is very long":
T. S. Eliot

Absolutely goddarnn right. Especially in his case,
since he lived to be seventy-six or something, a very long life, especially in
those days. And he was only in his thirties when he wrote it
so he must’ve had some inside dope

Give the devil his due. Very few poets could’ve made it through his … his
trial and come out on the other side, brilliantined and double-breasted and
Anglican. Not hard to imagine, faced with Eliot’s first wife, lovely Viv, how
Hart Crane or John Berryman might’ve reacted, just foot-raced to the nearest
bridge, Olympian Suicidalists. Not Eliot: following
sufficient years of ecclesiastical guilt, plop her in the nearest asylum and
get on with the day. God a-mighty. You have to admire the purity of the survivor’s instinct

Berryman, the old goat: "The world is gradually becoming a place where I
do not care to be anymore." I don’t know what it says about me that I have
a greater affinity with the damaged. Probably nothing good. I admire the hell
out of Eliot the poet, but the person? I can’t
identify

VIOLET: (Offstage.):… son-of-a-bitch . . .

BEVERLY: BEVERLY.
Violet. My wife. She takes pills, sometimes a great many. And they affect …
among other things, her equilibrium. Fortunately the
pills she takes eliminate her need for equilibrium. So
she falls when she rambles … but she doesn’t ramble much.

My wife takes pills and I drink. That’s the bargain
we’ve struck … one of the bargains, just one paragraph of our marriage
contract … cruel covenant. She takes pills and I drink. I don’t drink because
she takes pills. As to whether she takes pills because I drink . . . I learned
long ago not to speak for my wife. The reasons why we partake are anymore
inconsequential. The facts are: my wife takes pills and I drink. And these facts have over time made
burdensome the maintenance of traditional American routine: paying of BILLs, purchase of goods,
cleaning of clothes or carpets or crappers. Rather than once more assume the
mantle of guilt … vow abstinence with my fingers crossed in the queasy hope
of righting our ship, I’ve chosen to turn my life over to a Higher Power …
(Hoists his glass) … and join the ranks of the Hiring Class.

It’s not a decision with which I’m entirely comfortable. I know how to launder
my dirty undies . . . done it all my life, me or my wife, but I’m finding it’s
getting in the way of my drinking. "Something has been said for sobriety
but very little." (Berryman again.) And now you are here.

The place isn’t in such bad shape, not yet. I’ve done all right. I’ve managed.
And just last night, I burned an awful lot of … debris …

Y’know … a simple utility BILL can mean so much to
a living person. Once they’ve passed, though … after they’ve passed, the
words and numbers just seem like … otherworldly symbols. It’s only paper.
Worse. Worse than blank paper. (JOHNNA wipes sweat from her brow. Beverly takes
a folded handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to her.) This is clean

JOHNNA: (Wiping
her forehead) Thank you

BEVERLY: I
apologize for the temperature in here. My wife is cold-blooded and not just in
the metaphorical sense. She does not believe in air-conditioning … as if it
is a thing to be disbelieved

JOHNNA: My
daddy was the same way. I’m used to it. BEVERLY. I knew Mr. Youngbird, you know

JOHNNA: You
knew Daddy?

BEVERLY: Small
town. Bought many a watermelon from his fruit stand. Some summers he sold
fireworks too, right?

JOHNNA: Yes,
sir

BEVERLY: I
bought roman candles for my children. He did pass
didn’t he? JOHNNA. Yes, sir

BEVERLY: May
I ask how?

JOHNNA: He
had a heart attack. Fell into a flatbed truck full of wine grapes. BEVERLY.
Wine grapes. In Oklahoma. I’m sorry

JOHNNA: Thank
you. (He finishes his drink, pours another.)

BEVERLY: May
I ask about the name? JOHNNA. Hm?

BEVERLY: He
was Youngbird and you are… JOHNNA. Monevata

BEVERLY: "Monevata."

JOHNNA: I
went back to the original language. BEVERLY. And does it mean "young
bird"?

JOHNNA: Yes

BEVERLY: And
taking the name, that was your choice? JOHNNA. Mm-hm

BEVERLY: (Raising
his glass). Cheers. (Violet calls from offstage.)

VIOLET: (Offstage).
Bev …? BEVERLY. (To himself)
By night within that ancient house
Immense, black, damned, anonymous

(Lights up, dimly, on the second-floor
landing. Just out of bed, wearing wrinkled clothes, smoking a Winston, Violet
squints down the darkened stairway.)

VIOLET: Bev!

BEVERLY: Yes?

VIOLET: Did
you pullish … ?

BEVERLY: What?

VIOLET: Did
you … (Long pause. VIOLET stares, waiting for an answer. BEVERLY stares,
waiting for her to complete her question.)

BEVERLY: What,
dear?

VIOLET: Oh,
goddarnn it … did. You. Are the police here?

BEVERLY: No

VIOLET: Is
this a window? Am I looking through window? A window?

BEVERLY: Can
you come here? (VIOLET considers, then clomps down the stairs, into the study,
nonplussed by JOHNNA.)

VIOLET: Oh.
(Vaguely) Hello.

JOHNNA: Hello

VIOLET: (To
BEVERLY) I didn’t know you were entertaaaaaaining.

BEVERLY: This
is Johnna, the young woman I told you about

VIOLET: You’re
tell me’s a woman.

BEVERLY: Pardon?

VIOLET: A
woman. Wo-man. Whoa~man

BEVERLY: Yes,
dear, the young woman I’m hiring. To watch the place.

VIOLET: Oh!
You’re hiring women’s now the thing. I thought you meant the other woman.

BEVERLY: What
other woman?

VIOLET: (Pause;
then, ugly) Huh?!

BEVERLY: I
hope to hire her to cook and clean and take you to the clinic and to the-

VIOLET: (Attempting
to over-articulate) In the int’rest of … civil
action … your par-tic- u-lars ways of speak-king, I
thought you meant you had thought a whoa-man to be HIRED!

BEVERLY: I
don’t understand you

VIOLET: (Suddenly
winsome, to JOHNNA) Hello.

JOHNNA: Hello

VIOLET: I’m
sorry. (Curtsies) Like this.

JOHNNA: Yes,
ma’am

VIOLET: I’m
Violet, What’s your name?

JOHNNA: Johnna

VIOLET: You’re
very pretty.

JOHNNA: Thank
you

VIOLET: Are
you an Indian?

JOHNNA: Yes,
ma’am

VIOLET: What
kind?

JOHNNA: Cheyenne

VIOLET: Do
you think I’m pretty?

JOHNNA: Yes,
ma’am

VIOLET: (Curtsies
again.) Like … this? (Curtsies again.) Like this … (Curtsies lower,
stumbles, catches herself)

BEVERLY: Careful

VIOLET: (Still
to Johnna.)You’re the house now. I’m sorry, I … I
took some medicine for my musssss … muscular

BEVERLY: Why
don’t you go back to bed, sweetheart?

VIOLET: Why
don’t you go fuck a fucking sow’s ass?

BEVERLY: All
right

VIOLET: (To
Johnna.) I’m sorry. I’ll be sickly sweet. I’m sooooooooooo
sweet. In-el– abrially
sweet.
(She stubs Out her cigarette on
BEVERLY’s desk ashtray … stares at JOHNNA as if she might say something else
… then suddenly exits.)

BEVERLY: I
think I mentioned on the phone that Dr. Burke recommended you. He feels you’re
qualified to handle the needs of our household

JOHNNA: I
have a year toward my nursing certificate at Tulsa Community College, but I had
to drop out when Daddy died. And I saw my mom and grandma through bad times

BEVERLY: Dr.
Burke says you’ve been struggling for work.

JOHNNA: I’ve
been cleaning houses and babysitting

BEVERLY: He
did tell you we wanted a live-in.

JOHNNA: Yes,
sir

BEVERLY: We
keep unusual hours here. Try not to differentiate between night and day. I
doubt you’ll be able to maintain any sort of a healthy routine.

JOHNNA: I
need the work

BEVERLY: The
work itself … pretty mundane. I
myself require very little personal attention. Thrive without it, in
fact, sort of a human cactus. My wife has been diagnosed with a touch of
cancer, so she’ll need to be driven to Tulsa for her final chemotherapy
treatments. You’re welcome to use that American-made behemoth parked in the
carport. You’re welcome to make use of anything, everything, all this garbage
we’ve acquired, our life’s work. If you’re going to live here, I want you to
live here. You understand?

JOHNNA: Yes,
sir

BEVERLY: Please
call me Beverly. Do you have any questions?

JOHNNA: What
kind of cancer?

BEVERLY: I
didn’t say? My God, I nearly neglected the punch line:
mouth cancer.

JOHNNA: What
pills does she take?

MATTIE FAE: I’m
saying if you did, you better believe I’m gonna give
you about three days to get your head straight and then it’s all going up in a
blaze of glory

CHARLIE: I’m
not going anywhere!

MATTIE FAE: If
you did!

CHARLIE: I’m
not!

MATTIE FAE: Not
that Charlie has any books lying around. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Charlie
read a book in my life

CHARLIE: Is
that a criticism? Does that bother you?

MATTIE FAE: Well,
I haven’t. What’s the last book you read?

CHARLIE: Goddamn
it-

MATTIE FAE: Just
tell me the last book you read

CHARLIE: Beverly
was a teacher; teachers read books. I’m in the upholstery business; people in
the upholstery business-

MATTIE FAE: You
can’t tell me the last book you read

CHARLIE: This
girl is concerned about her daddy’s whereabouts. She doesn’t need to sit here
and listen to us-

MATTIE FAE: I
think we’re all concerned about Beverly.

CHARLIE: Then
what the hell are you needling me for?

MATTIE FAE: He
came back though, you know, and they worked things out, and he’ll come back
again, I know he will

IVY: I
think this time is different.

MATTIE FAE: I
think so too

CHARLIE: Why?

MATTIE FAE: Because
back then-

CHARLIE: I’m
not asking you. (To IVY) Why do you think this time is different?

IVY: Because
I think back then they were trying

MATTIE FAE: (To
CHARLIE) Which is what I was gonna say. (To IVY)
Beverly was a very complicated man

IVY: I
know

CHARLIE: Stop
saying "was."

MATTIE FAE: Well,
he was. He is, very complicated.

CHARLIE: But
in a kind-y quiet way

IVY: Kind
of like Charles

CHARLIE: Yes,
like Little Charles. Exactly-

MATTIE FAE: Oh.
He’s nothing like Little Charles

CHARLIE: She
just means in their sort of quiet complicated ways-

MATTIE FAE: Little
Charles isn’t complicated

CHARLIE: I
think-

MATTIE FAE: No,
Little Charles isn’t complicated, he’s just unemployed.

CHARLIE: He’s
an observer

MATTIE FAE: All
he observes is the television.

CHARLIE: So you can’t even see Ivy’s point?

MATTIE FAE: No

CHARLIE: That
Little Charles and Beverly share some kind of … complication.

MATTIE FAE: Honey,
you have to be smart to be complicated

CHARLIE: That’s
our boy. Are you saying our boy isn’t smart?

MATTIE FAE: Yes that’s what I’m saying

CHARLIE: What’s
the matter with you? (To IVY) Your cousin is very smart.

MATTIE FAE: I’m
sweating. Are you sweating?

CHARLIE: Hell,
yes, I’m sweating, it’s ninety degrees in here.

MATTIE FAE: Feel
my back

CHARLIE: I
don’t want to feel your back

MATTIE FAE: Feel
it. Sweat is just dripping down my back.

CHARLIE: I
believe you

MATTIE FAE: Feel
it.

CHARLIE: No

MATTIE FAE: Come
on, put your hand here-

CHARLIE: Goddamn
it-

MATTIE FAE: Sweat’s
just dripping-

CHARLIE: Ivy.
Let me ask you something. When did this start? This business with the shades,
taping the shades?

IVY: That’s
been a couple of years now

MATTIE FAE: My
gosh, has it been that long since we’ve been here?

CHARLIE: Do
you know its purpose?

MATTIE FAE: You
can’t tell if it’s night or day.

IVY: I
think that’s the purpose

CHARLIE: Well,
I don’t know, but I don’t think that’s healthy.

MATTIE FAE: It’s
not. You need sunlight

CHARLIE: Do
you know which one of them decided on this?

IVY: I
can’t really see Dad taking the initiative

CHARLIE: No,
I suppose not. I don’t know about you, but I find this whole setup depressing. Y’know, a person’s environment … (Points to the stereo)
And what the hell, is that an Eric Clapton album? Vi’s a Clapton fan? (MATTIE
FAE starts to peel the tape from one of the shades.) Don’t do that

MATTIE FAE: The
body needs sunlight

CHARLIE: It’s
nighttime. And this isn’t your place, you can’t come into somebody else’s home
and start changing-

MATTIE FAE: Do
you believe we haven’t been here in two years? (VIOLET enters.)

VIOLET: He
said they checked the hospitals but no Beverly.

MATTIE FAE: This
is the highway patrol?

VIOLET: No,
not the highway patrol, the sheriff, the Gilbeau boy.

MATTIE FAE: Gilbeau.
Don’t tell me C. J. Gilbeau is the sheriff here now.

VIOLET: Not
C. J., his boy Deon

MATTIE FAE: I
was gonna say-

VIOLET: He
went to school with the girls, Deon did. Was he in your class, Ivy?

IVY: Barbara’s
class, I think

MATTIE FAE: Is
that right?

CHARLIE: Who’s
this now?

MATTIE FAE: C.
J. Gilbeau was a boy we grew up with. Mean little son-of-a-bitch, juvenile
delinquent-

VIOLET: His
boy Deon’s the sheriff now

MATTIE FAE: C.
J. was the preacher’s son and you know-

CHARLIE: Say
no more

MATTIE FAE: -and
you know how they are.

VIOLET: You
remember he went to the penitentiary

MATTIE FAE: Yes,
I remember that, for killing what was it?

VIOLET: A
boxer

MATTIE FAE: Right,
for killing this man’s boxer dog

VIOLET: His
boy Deon’s the sheriff. I sent you that subscription to the Pawhuska
Journal-Capital. Don’t you read it?

MATTIE FAE: No,
I don’t read-it

VIOLET: So you Tulsa big shots could keep up with us small-town
folks.

MATTIE FAE: No,
I don’t read it

VIOLET: Well,
if you read it you’d know that his boy Deon is the
sheriff here now.

IVY: What
hospitals did they check?

VIOLET: He
rattled off a bunch of them.

IVY: What
else did he say?

VIOLET: The
boat’s missing. (Pause.)

IVY: Mom?

VIOLET: He
sent a patrolman out to the dock to check if anybody had seen him and Beverly’s
pontoon boat is gone

MATTIE FAE: Oh,
no

VIOLET: He
said they’ve had a couple of boats stolen in the last little while
so he didn’t think it proved anything, but he was worried about it. (VIOLET
starts to ascend the stairs.)

CHARLIE: Vi,
you think there’s a chance Bev loaded that boat onto his trailer and took it
out of there? I mean if he was going somewhere’s else

MATTIE FAE: Trailer’s
out by the shed, I saw it when we pulled up.
(VIOLET exits. IVY follows her. JOHNNA enters, occupied with housework. CHARLIE
holds up his empty beer bottle.)

CHARLIE: ‘Scuse me, dear … could I trouble you for another beer?

MATTIE FAE: Goddamn
it, she’s not a waitress

CHARLIE: I
know that

MATTIE FAE: Then
get your own beer. (Johnna crosses, takes the empty …)

JOHNNA: I’ll
get it. (… and goes.)

MATTIE FAE: I
don’t believe you. Watchin‘ the baseball game and drinkin‘ beers. Don’t you have any sense of what’s going on
around you? This situation is fraught.

CHARLIE: Am
I supposed to sit here like a statue? You’re drinking whiskey

MATTIE FAE: I’m
having a cocktail.

CHARLIE: You’re
drinking straight whiskey.

MATTIE FAE: Just
… show a little class

CHARLIE: I
don’t think we need to sit here crying in the dark

MATTIE FAE: Oh
well, since you got everything all figured out, let’s
party down.

CHARLIE: Mattie
Fae-

MATTIE FAE: Get
that Indian gal to whip us up some cheese Coneys and let’s call a few friends

CHARLIE: Ooo, a cheese Coney sounds good

MATTIE FAE: It
does, doesn’t it? You smell something cooking?

CHARLIE: Yeah

MATTIE FAE: Come
with me to the kitchen, let’s see what it is.

CHARLIE: What
do you need me for? I’ve got the Royals on

MATTIE FAE: Just
come with me. (She takes his hand, pulls him from the couch.)

CHARLIE: That’s
not good news about that boat.
(As CHARLIE follows MATTIE FAE to the kitchen, and intercepts his beer from
JOHNNA, the lights crossfade to VIOLET and IVY on the second-floor landing.
During the following, they descend the stairs and enter the dining room.)

VIOLET: Did
you call Barb?

IVY: Yes

VIOLET: When’d
you call her?

IVY: This
morning

VIOLET: What’d
she say?

IVY: She’s
on her way

VIOLET: How’s
she getting here?

IVY: She
and Bill are coming

VIOLET: Is
she driving?

IVY: I
doubt it

VIOLET: Why?

IVY: Boulder’s
a long way.

VIOLET: Is
she bringing Jean?

IVY: I
don’t know

VIOLET: When
did she say she’d be here?

IVY: She
didn’t say. She just said she was on her way.

VIOLET: What’d
you tell her?

IVY: I
told her Dad was missing.

VIOLET: That’s
all

IVY: Is
there anything else?

VIOLET: Did
you tell her how long he’d been missing?

IVY: Five
days

VIOLET: Did
you tell her that?

IVY: I
think so

VIOLET: What
did she say?

IVY: She
said she was on her way

VIOLET: Goddamn
it, Ivy, what did she say? Was she irritated? Was she amused? Tell me what she
said

IVY: She
said she was on her way

VIOLET: You’re
hopeless. (Takes a pill) Goddamn your father for putting me through this. For
leaving me to handle this. You seen that office of
his, all that paperwork, that mess? I can’t make heads or tails of it. He hired
this Indian a week ago to look after the place for some goddamn reason and now
I have a stranger in my house. I don’t know what to say to that girl. What’s her
name?

IVY: Johnna

VIOLET: He’s
always paid the bills and made the phone calls and now suddenly I’m supposed to
handle it? You know this house is falling apart, something about the basement
or the sump pump or the foundation. I don’t know anything about it. I can’t do
all this by myself

IVY: I
called Karen.

VIOLET: What
did she say?

IVY: She
said she’d try to get here

VIOLET: She’ll
be a big fat help, just like you. (Takes another pill.) I need Barb.

IVY: I
don’t know what Barb’s going to be able to do

VIOLET: What
did you do to your hair?

IVY: I
had it straightened

VIOLET: You
had it straightened. Why would anybody do that?

IVY: I
don’t know

VIOLET: Why
did you do it?

IVY: I
Just wanted a change

VIOLET: You’re
a pretty girl. You’re the prettiest of my three girls, but you always look like
such a schlub. Why don’t you wear any makeup?

IVY: Do
I need makeup?

VIOLET: All
women need makeup. Don’t let anybody tell you different. The only woman who was
pretty enough to go without makeup was Elizabeth Taylor and she wore a ton. Sit
up straight

IVY: Mom

VIOLET: Your
shoulders are slumped and your hair’s all straight and you don’t wear makeup.
You look like a lesbian. You’re a pretty enough girl you could get a decent man
if you spruced up. A bit, that’s all I’m saying

IVY: I’m
not looking for a man

VIOLET: You
should be. Everybody needs somebody.

IVY: I’m
not looking for a man

VIOLET: Listen,
there are a lot of losers out there, don’t think I don’t know it. But just
because you got a bad one doesn’t mean-

IVY: Barry
wasn’t a loser

VIOLET: Barry
was an asshole. And I warned you from the start, didn’t I? First time you
brought him over here in his ridiculous little electric car, with that stupid
orange beard and that turban

IVY: It
wasn’t a turban-

VIOLET: I
just don’t understand some of the choices you make. You’re forty-three years
old

IVY: Forty-four

VIOLET: Forty-four
years old. Maybe you’re past the point of having children, and that’s all right
if you don’t want them, but aren’t you interested in finding a husband?

IVY: A
husband. In Pawhuska

VIOLET: You
don’t meet people where you live, you meet them where you work. You work at a
college. Don’t tell me there aren’t people coming through the door of that
library every day

IVY: You
want me to marry a student, some eighteen-year-old boy from one of these hick
towns?

VIOLET: They
still have teachers on the Tulsa campus, don’t they? They did when your father
taught there-

IVY: Barry
was a teacher at TU

VIOLET: Yeah,
"Environmental Studies." Barry was a loser.

IVY: He
wasn’t a loser-

VIOLET: He
dumped you, didn’t he? To my mind, that makes him-

IVY: He
did not dump me. It just didn’t work out between us

VIOLET: All
right, yes, dear, I’m sorry. I’ll get it straight. I’m sorry. But maybe it
would’ve worked out between you if you’d worn some makeup. (Takes another pill)
How many was that?

IVY: I
wasn’t counting. (VIOLET takes another pill.) Is your mouth burning?

VIOLET: Like
a son-of-a-bitch. My tongue is on fire

IVY: Are
you supposed to be smoking?

VIOLET: Is
anybody supposed to smoke?

IVY: You
have cancer of the mouth

VIOLET: Ivy.
I have enough to worry about right this minute without you getting on me about
my smoking

IVY: I’m
not getting on you.

VIOLET: Just
leave it alone.

IVY: Are
you scared?

VIOLET: ‘Course
I’m scared. And you are a comfort, sweetheart. Thank God one of my girls stayed
close to home. My generation, families stayed together

IVY: That
was a different time

VIOLET: No
kidding. Did you call Mattie Fae?

IVY: Aunt
Mattie Fae’s here

VIOLET: I
know that, dummy, did you call her?

IVY: I
thought you called her

VIOLET: I
guess I did. I don’t remember.

IVY: You’ve
got a lot on your mind

VIOLET: She
means to come in here and tell me what’s what.

IVY: I
don’t know how Uncle Charlie puts up with it

VIOLET: He
smokes a lot of grass.

IVY: He
does?

VIOLET: He
smokes a lot of grass. (They laugh.)

IVY: "Grass"?
You say "grass"?

VIOLET: What
do you call it?

IVY: Hey,
are you into Clapton now?

VIOLET: What?

IVY: Eric
Clapton, you have an Eric Clapton album.

VIOLET: I’ve
had it forever

IVY: I’ve
never seen it

VIOLET: I
like it. It’s got a good beat. I’m not old, you know

(Lights down on the dining room and up on
the front porch as BARBARA and BILL arrive, carrying suitcases. VIOLET and IVY
exit and, during the following, MATTIE FAE and CHARLIE enter from the kitchen
and cross to the dining room with plates of hot apple pie.)

BARBARA: What’s
Jean doing?

BILL: Smoking

BARBARA: I
wish you wouldn’t encourage that.

BILL: I
haven’t encouraged anything

BARBARA: I
don’t know, there’s just something a little funny about the way you say,
"smoking," like you admire her for getting hooked at fourteen

BILL: Are
you ready for this?

BARBARA: No.
No way

BILL: Well.
Take a second. (They stand, taking in the night, breathing the air.)

BARBARA: Goddamn,
it’s hot.

BILL: Wimp

BARBARA: I
know it. Colorado spoiled me.

BILL: That’s
one of the reasons we got out of here.

BARBARA: No,
it’s not

BILL: You
suppose your mom’s turned on the air conditioner?

BARBARA: Are
you kidding? Remember the patakeets?

BILL: The
patakeets

BARBARA: I
didn’t tell you about the patakeets? She got a patakeet, for some insane reason, and the little fucker
croaked after about two days. So she went to the pet
store and raised hell and they gave her another patakeet. That one died after just one day. So she went back and they gave her
a third patakeet and that one died, too. So the chick from the pet store carne out here to see just
what in hell this serial patakeet killer was doing to
bump off these birds

BILL: And?

BARBARA: The
heat. It was too hot. They were dying from the heat.

BILL: Jesus

BARBARA: These
are tropical birds, all right? They live in the fucking tropics. (Beat. She
looks out.) What were these people thinking?

BILL: What
people?

BARBARA: The
jokers who settled this place. The Germans and the Dutch and the Irish. Who was
the asshole who saw this flat hot nothing and planted his flag? I mean, we
fucked the Indians for this?

BILL: Well,
genocide always seems like such a good idea at the time.

BARBARA: Right,
you need a little hindsight

BILL: Anyway,
if you want me to explain the creepy character of the Midwest, you’re asking
the wrong-

BARBARA: Hey.
Please. This is not the Midwest. All right? Michigan is the Midwest, God knows
why. This is the Plains: a state of mind, right, some spiritual affliction,
like the Blues

BILL: "Are
you okay?" "I’m fine. Just got the Plains." (They laugh. He
reaches up and touches her neck tenderly.)

BARBARA: Don’t.
(She pulls away. They look away from one another, an uncomfortable moment.
Regarding JEAN) What, is she smoking a fucking cigar?

BILL: She’s
coming. (Jean arrives on the front porch carrying a suitcase.) You ready,
kiddo?

JEAN: Yeah,
sure

BARBARA: All
right. (Gives Jean a quick kiss.) You’re precious. I’m having a hot flash. All
right…here goes. (Lights up on the entryway as Barbara, Bill and Jean enter.)
Mom?! (Lights up on the dining room. Mattie Fae and Charlie travel from the
dining room to the entryway. The following salutations are quick and
overlapping, and they range from forte [Mattie Fae] to piano [Ivy].)

MATTIE FAE: Oh
my God, Barbara!-

BARBARA: Hi,
Aunt Mattie Fae-

MATTIE FAE: You
give me some sugar! (BARBARA and MATTIE FAE hug. Over BARBARA’s shoulder) Hi,
BILL! Look how skinny you are!

BILL: Hi,
Mattie Fae

MATTIE FAE: Oh
my gosh, will you look at this one? Come here and give your Aunt Mattie Fae
some sugar! (MATTIE FAE and JEAN hug. BILL and CHARLIE shake hands.)

BILL: Hi,
Charlie

CHARLIE: ‘Lo,
BILL. Man, you have dropped some weight, haven’t you?

MATTIE FAE: (Still
to JEAN) My gosh, you’re so big! And look at your big boobs! They’re so big!
Last time I saw you, you looked just like a little boy! (BARBARA and CHARLIE
hug.)

CHARLIE: Hello,
sweetheart

BARBARA: Good
to see you, Uncle Charlie.

CHARLIE: You
too

MATTIE FAE: Oh,
I can’t get over that one, she’s just too much. Come here, Bill, and give me
some sugar! (CHARLIE mushes JEAN’s shoulder, kisses her on the temple.)

CHARLIE: Lovely
to see you, dear

JEAN: Yeah,
same here

CHARLIE: (Gently
mocking) Same here, same here. (VIOLET appears on the stairway, followed by
IVY. VIOLET bursts into tears, rushes to BARBARA, clenches her. IVY watches
from the stairs.)

BARBARA: It’s
okay, Mom. I’m here, I’m here. (VIOLET weeps. The others are awkwardly
respectful of the moment.) Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here

BILL: (To
CHARLIE) No word then?

CHARLIE: No.

MATTIE FAE: No,
huh-uh

BARBARA: It’s
okay, Mom

VIOLET: What
am I going to do? What am I going to do?

BARBARA: Well,
we can talk about that. Did you see Bill and Jean? (VIOLET takes them in,
disoriented.)

VIOLET: Yes.
Hi, Bill

BILL: Hello,
Violet. (VIOLET and BILL kiss.) I’m sorry you’re going through this

(Violet holds BILL, cries.)

VIOLET: I’m
just so scared. (MATTIE FAE reaches out, strokes VIOLET’s back)

MATTIE FAE: Of
course you are, poor thing.

VIOLET: You’re
too thin. ‘

BILL: Hardly

VIOLET: Yes,
you are. (VIOLET sees JEAN.) Well, look at you.

MATTIE FAE: I
know, isn’t she something else? Look at her boobs!

JEAN: O-kay,
we’ve all stared at my tits now

MATTIE FAE: They’re
just so darn big.

CHARLIE: Mattie
Fae … (VIOLET hugs JEAN.)

VIOLET: You’re
just the prettiest thing. Thank you for coming to see me.

JEAN: No
problem

BARBARA: Ivy,
I didn’t see you up there

IVY: (Descending
the stairs) It looked crowded

BARBARA: God,
you look good. Doesn’t she look good, Bill?

BILL: Yes,
she does

BARBARA: I
love your hair, that looks great.

VIOLET: She
had it straightened

BARBARA: I
know, it looks great. (IVY and JEAN wave.)

IVY: Hi,
Jean

JEAN: Hi.
(VIOLET pulls BARBARA into the living room. The others follow.)

VIOLET: Barbara,
or Bill, it doesn’t matter, I need you to go through Beverly’s things and help
me with some of this paperwork

BARBARA: Well
… we can do that,

IVY: I
was going to help with that. Mom, we’re here for a while

VIOLET: No,
now that desk of his is such a mess and I get confused-

BILL: I’ll
take care of it, Violet-

BARBARA: (To
CHARLIE) Which room are you in?

MATTIE FAE: We’re
headed back tonight

VIOLET: You’re
going back?

MATTIE FAE: We
have to, Vi, we left in such a rush we didn’t get
anyone to take care of those damn dogs

VIOLET: You
want to drive that hour and a half tonight?

MATTIE FAE: Not
the way Charlie drives. Anyway, I know you want to spend some time with these
girls

VIOLET: Can’t
you call someone about the dogs? Or how about Little Charles, can’t he take
care of them?

CHARLIE: Well,
yeah, I guess he could-

MATTIE FAE: No,
he can’t, either. We have to get back.

CHARLIE: Maybe
we should call him, Mattie Fae-

MATTIE FAE: We
talked about this

CHARLIE: I
know, but-

MATTIE FAE: (To
VIOLET) You’ve got all these people here and not enough beds-

VIOLET: You
can stay at Ivy’s place

IVY (Beat): Yeah,
sure. I’ve got room

MATTIE FAE: (To
CHARLIE) We talked about this

BARBARA: You
all can figure that out on your own. So, Mom? Jean can stay in the attic?

VIOLET: No,
that’s where what’s-her-name lives.

IVY: Johnna

BARBARA: Who’s
Johnna

VIOLET: She’s
the Indian who lives in my attic.

BARBARA: She’s
the what? (Johnna enters.)

JOHNNA: Hi,
I’m Johnna. Welcome home

 

Scene 2

 

BARBARA, BILL and VIOLET are in the
dining room with coffee and pie. VIOLET’s pills are starting to kick in.

Elsewhere in the house: JOHNNA reads a
book in her attic bedroom; JEAN listens to an iPod on the second-floor landing

VIOLET: Saturday.
Saturday morning. That girl, the Indian girl made us biscuits and gravy. We ate
some, we …he walked out the door, that door right there. And that was it

BARBARA: That
was the last time you saw him

VIOLET: I
went to bed Saturday night and got up Sunday morning … still no Beverly. I
didn’t make much of it, thought he’d gone out on a bender

BARBARA: Why
would he do that? Not like he couldn’t drink at home. Unless you were riding
his ass

VIOLET: I
never said anything to him about his drinking, never got on him about it.

BARBARA: Really

VIOLET: Barbara,
I swear. He could drink himself into obliv-uh, obliv-en-en …

BARBARA: Oblivion

BILL: So Sunday, still no sign of him ..

VIOLET: Yes,
Sunday, no sign. I started getting worried, don’tcha
know, and that’s when I got so worked up about that safety deposit box. We kept
an awful lot of cash in that box, some jewelry, expensive jewelry. I had a
diamond ring in that box appraised at over seven thousand dollars-

BARBARA: Wait,
wait, wait, I’m missing something, why do you care about the safety deposit
box?

VIOLET: Well,
I know what you’ll say about this, but. Your father and I had a urge- ment-arrangement. If
something were to ever happen to one of us, the other one would go empty that
safety deposit box

BARBARA: Because ..

BILL: It
gets rolled into the estate, then goes to probate.

VIOLET: Right,
that’s right

BARBARA: You’re
such a fucking cynic.

VIOLET: I
knew you would disapprove-

BARBARA: (Impatient)
Okay, fine, so what about the safety deposit box?-

VIOLET: I
had to wait for the bank to open on Monday. And after I emptied that box, I
called the police and reported him missing. Monday morning

BARBARA: And
you’re just now calling me, today, on Thursday.

VIOLET: I
didn’t call you

BARBARA: You
had Ivy call me. Five days later.

VIOLET: I
didn’t want to worry you, honey-

BARBARA: Jesus
Christ

BILL: Vi,
you sure there wasn’t some event that triggered his leaving, some incident?

VIOLET: You
mean like a fight

BILL: Yes.

VIOLET: No.
And we fought enough … you know … but no, he just left.

BARBARA: Maybe
he just needed some time away from you

VIOLET: That’s
nice of you to say

BARBARA: Hey,
that’s no crime. Being married is hard.

BILL: Under
the best of circumstances

BARBARA: But
nothing. Not. "See you later," or "I’m taking a walk."
(VIOLET shakes her head.) Good old unfathomable Dad

VIOLET: Oh.
That man. What I first fell in with-fell in love with, you know, was his
mystery. I thought it was sexy as hell. You knew he was the smartest one in the
room, knew if he’d just say something … knock you out. But he’d just stand
there, little smile on his face … not say a word. Sexy

BARBARA: Yeah,
that "mystery" can cut both ways

BILL: And
you can’t think of anything different or unusual, or-

VIOLET: He
hired this woman. He didn’t ask me, just hired this woman to come here and live
in our house. Few days before he left

BARBARA: You
don’t want her here

VIOLET: I
don’t know what she’s doing here. She’s stranger in my house. There’s an Indian
in my house

BILL: (Laughing)
You have some problem with Indians, Violet?

VIOLET: I
don’t know what to say to an Indian

BARBARA: They’re
called Native Americans now, Mom

VIOLET: Who
calls them that? Who makes that decision?

BARBARA: It’s
what they like to be called

VIOLET: They
aren’t any more native than me.

BARBARA: In
fact, they are

VIOLET: What’s
wrong with "Indian"?

BARBARA: Why
is it so hard to just call people what they want?-

VIOLET: Let’s
just call the dinosaurs "Native Americans" while we’re at it

BARBARA: She
may be an Indian, but she makes the best goddamn apple pie I ever ate in my
life

BILL: It
is good, isn’t it?

BARBARA: Oh,
man-

VIOLET: A
cook? So he hired a cook? It doesn’t make any sense.
We don’t eat.

BARBARA: That
sounds healthy

VIOLET: We
eat, cheese and saltines, or a ham sandwich. But I can’t tell you the last time
that stove, oh … turned on. Years

BARBARA: And
now you get biscuits and gravy. Kind of nice, huh?

VIOLET: Nice
for you, now. But you’ll be gone soon enough, never to return.

BARBARA: (A
warning) Mom

VIOLET: When
was the last time you were here?

BARBARA: Don’t
get started on that

VIOLET: Really,
I don’t even remember

BARBARA: I’m
very dutiful, Mom, I call, I write, I send presents-

VIOLET: You
do not write-

BARBARA: I
send presents on birthdays and Mother’s Day-

VIOLET: Because
you’re "dutiful."

BARBARA: Don’t
you quote me.

BILL: All
right, now-

VIOLET: You’re
grown-up people, growed-ups. You go where you want-

BARBARA: I
have a lot of obligations, I have a daughter starting
high school in a couple of

VIOLET: That
right? Last time I saw her she’s grade school-

BARBARA: I
won’t talk about this-

VIOLET: I
don’t care about you two, really. I’d just like to see my granddaughter every
now and again

BARBARA: Well,
you’re seeing her now

VIOLET: But
your father. You broke his heart when you moved away.

BARBARA: That
is wildly unfair

BILL: Am
I going to have to separate you two?

VIOLET: You
know you were Beverly’s favorite; don’t pretend you don’t know that.

BARBARA: I
don’t want to know that. I’d prefer to think my parents loved all their
children equally

VIOLET: I’m
sure you’d prefer to think that Santy Claus brought you presents at Christmas,
too, but it just isn’t so. If you’d had more than one child, you’d realize a
parent always has favorites. Mattie Fae was my mother’s favorite. Big deal. I
got used to it. You were your daddy’s favorite

BARBARA: Great.
Thanks. (Pause.)

VIOLET: Broke
his heart

BARBARA: What
was I supposed to do?! Colorado offered Bill twice the money he was making at
TU-

BILL: Why
are you even getting into this?

BARBARA: -and
they were willing to hire me, too. Daddy knew we had to take those jobs. You
think he wouldn’t have jumped at the chance Bill got?

VIOLET: Now
you’re wrong there. You never would’ve gotten Beverly Weston out of Oklahoma.
And don’t think he didn’t have his opportunities, either, after Meadowlark came
out

BILL: I’m
sure

VIOLET: After
Meadowlark was published, he got offers from everywhere in the country, lots
better places than Colorado

BARBARA: Now
you want to knock Colorado.

VIOLET: It’s
not hard to do

BILL: Barbara,
Jesus-

BARBARA: Daddy’s
book came out forty years ago. Academia’s very different now, it’s extremely
competitive

VIOLET: Please,
tell me all about academia

BARBARA: Daddy
gave me his blessing, and I didn’t even ask for it.

VIOLET: ‘Swhat he told you

BARBARA: Now
you’re going to tell me the true Story, some terrible shit Daddy said behind my
back?

BILL: Hey,
enough. Everybody’s a little on edge-

VIOLET: Beverly
didn’t say terrible things behind your back-

BILL: Vi,
come on-

VIOLET: He
just told me he’s disappointed in you because you settled

BARBARA: Is
that supposed to be a comment on Bill? Daddy never said anything like that to
you-

VIOLET: Your
father thought you had talent, as a writer

BARBARA: If
he thought that, and I doubt he did, he was wrong. Anyway, what difference does
it make? It’s my life. I can do what I want. So he was
disappointed in me because I settled for a beautiful family and a teaching
career, is that what you’re saying? What a load of absolute horseshit

VIOLET: Oh,
horseshit, horseshit, let’s all say horseshit. Say horseshit, Bill.

BILL: Horseshit.
(BILL exits to the kitchen.)

BARBARA: Are
you high?

VIOLET: No

BARBARA: No,
are you high? I mean literally. Are you taking something?

VIOLET: A
muscle relaxer

BARBARA: Listen
to me: I will not go through this
with you again.

VIOLET: Go
through what?

BARBARA: These
fucking pills.

VIOLET: They’re
muscle relaxers—

BARBARA: I
will not do this again

VIOLET: I
don’t know what you’re talking about

BARBARA: The
psych ward? Calls at three A.M. about people in your backyard?

VIOLET: You’re
so much drama-

BARBARA: The
police, all the rest of it? You do know what I’m talking about. You spent a goddamn
fortune on these fucking pills

VIOLET: Stop
yelling at me!

BARBARA: -and
then you spent another fortune getting off them.

VIOLET: It’s
not the same thing, I didn’t have a reason

BARBARA: So
now it’s okay to get hooked because you have a reason

VIOLET: I’m
not hooked on anything

BARBARA: I
don’t know if you are or not, I’m just saying I won’t go–

VIOLET: I’m
not. I’m in pain

BARBARA: Because
of your mouth

VIOLET: Yes,
because my mouth burns from the chemotheeeahh.

BARBARA: Are
you in a lot of pain?

VIOLET: (Starting
to cry) Yes, I’m in pain. I have got … gotten cancer. In my mouth. And it
burns like a … bullshit. And Beverly’s disappeared and you’re yelling at me

BARBARA: I’m
not yelling at you. (BILL returns.)

VIOLET: You
couldn’t come home when I got cancer but as soon as Beverly disappeared you
rushed back-

BARBARA: I’m
sorry, I … you’re right. I’m sorry. (VIOLET cries. BARBARA kneels in front of
her , takes her hand.) You know where I think he is? I
think he got some whiskey … a carton of cigarettes, couple of good spy novels
… aannnd I think he got out on the boat, steered it
to a nice spot, somewhere in the shade, close to shore … and he’s fishing,
and reading, and drinking, and if the mood strikes him, maybe even writing a
little. I think he’s safe. And I think he’ll walk through that door … any
time. (Lights down on the dining room, and up on the attic, where JOHNNA is
reading JEAN has put away her iPod and now ascends the stairs.)

JEAN: Hi

JOHNNA: Hello

JEAN: Am
I bugging you?

JOHNNA: No,
do you need something?

JEAN: No,
I thought maybe you’d like to smoke a bowl with me?

JOHNNA: No,
thank you

JEAN: Okay.
I didn’t know. (Jean stands, looking at her.) Am I bugging you?

JOHNNA: No,
huh-uh

JEAN: Okay.
Do you mind if I smoke a bowl?

JOHNNA: I.
No, I-

JEAN: ‘Cause there’s no place I can go. Y’know,
I’m staying right by Grandma’s room, and if I go outside, they’re gonna wonder-

JOHNNA: Right-

JEAN: Mom
and Dad don’t mind. You won’t get into trouble or anything.

JOHNNA: Okay

JEAN: Okay.
You sure? (Johnna nods. From her pocket, JEAN takes a small glass pipe and a
clear cigarette wrapper holding a bud of marijuana. She fixes the pipe.) I say
they don’t mind. If they knew I stuck this bud under the cap of Dad’s deodorant
before our flight and then sat there sweating like in that movie Maria Full of
Grace. Did you see that?

JOHNNA: I
don’t think so

JEAN: I
just mean they don’t mind that I smoke pot. Dad doesn’t. Mom kind of does. She
thinks it’s bad for me. I think the real reason if bugs her is ’cause Dad smokes pot, too, and she wishes he didn’t. Dad’s
much cooler than Mom, really. Well, that’s not true. He’s just cooler in that
way, I guess. (Jean smokes. She offers the smoldering pipe to JOHNNA. Holding
her breath) You sure?

JOHNNA: Yes.
No. I’m fine

JEAN: No,
he’s really not cooler. (Exhales smoke) He and Mom are
separated right now

JOHNNA: I’m
sorry

JEAN: He’s
fucking one of his students which is pretty uncool, if
you ask me. Some people would think that’s cool, like those dicks who teach
with him in the Humanities Department because they’re all fucking their
students or wish they were fucking their students. "L.o-liii-ta." I mean, I don’t care and all, he
can fuck whoever he wants and he’s a teacher and that’s who teachers meet,
students. He was just a turd the way he went about it and didn’t give Mom a.
chance to respond or anything. What sucks now is that Mom’s watching me like a
hawk, like, she’s afraid I’ll have some post-divorce freak-out and become some
heroin addict or shoot everybody at school. Or God forbid, lose my virginity. I
don’t know what it is about Dad splitting that put Mom on hymen patrol. Do you
have a boyfriend?

JOHNNA: No,
not these days

JEAN: Me
neither. I did go with this boy Josh for like almost a year
but he was retarded. Are your parents still together?

JOHNNA: They
passed away.

JEAN: Oh.
I’m sorry

JOHNNA: That’s
okay. Thank you

JEAN: Oh,
fuck, no, I’m really sorry, I feel fucking terrible now .

JOHNNA: It’s
okay

JEAN: Oh
God. Okay. Were you close with them?

JOHNNA: Yeah

JEAN: Okay,
another stupid question there, Jean, real good. Wow.
Like: "Are you close to your parents?”

JOHNNA: Not
everybody is

JEAN: Yeah,
right? So that’s what I meant. Thanks. (Johnna takes a framed photograph from
her nightstand and hands it to JEAN.) Oh, wow. This is them.

JOHNNA: Mm-hm,
their wedding picture

JEAN: That’s
sweet. Their costumes are fantastic. (Johnna smiles. JEAN hands the photograph
back, walks around the room.) This is a great room. Very Night of the Hunter.
This used to be my room when we’d come and stay

JOHNNA: I’m
sorry

JEAN: Oh.
No, I … it doesn’t matter to me. It’s just a room. (Beat) What are you
reading?

JOHNNA: T.
S. Eliot

JEAN: That’s
cool

JOHNNA: Your
grandfather loaned it to me

JEAN: Grandpa’s weird. Mom freaked when she got the call from Aunt
Ivy this morning, just like … freaked. I’ve never seen her like that. I
couldn’t get her to calm down. It was weird. I guess it’s not weird that she
freaked out, but like, to see your mom freak like that, like you’ve never seen
before, y’know? And we’re real close. Did you ever
see your parents freak out?

JOHNNA: They
weren’t really the type

JEAN: Yeah,
right? So like imagine if you did just one day see
them like totally lose their shit, just like, "Whoa." (Jean reaches,
touches a beaded pouch in the shape of a turtle hanging from Jobnna’s neck.) I like your necklace

JOHNNA: Thank
you.

JEAN: Did
you make that?

JOHNNA: My
grandma

JEAN: It’s
a turtle, right?

JOHNNA: Mm-hm

JEAN: It
feels like there’s something in it

JOHNNA: My
umbilical cord. (Jean recoils, wipes her hand on her pant leg. JOHNNA laughs.)

JEAN: Ewww, are you serious?

JOHNNA: Yes

JEAN: Oh
my God. That’s kind of gross.

JOHNNA: It’s
not unsanitary

JEAN: Why
would you do that, is it some kind of… ?

JOHNNA: It’s
a Cheyenne tradition

JEAN: You’re
Cheyenne.

JOHNNA: Mm-hm

JEAN: Like
that movie Powwow Highway. Did you see that?

JOHNNA: When
a Cheyenne baby is born, their umbilical cord is dried and sewn into this
pouch. Turtles for girls, lizards for boys. And we wear it for the rest of our
lives.

JEAN: Wow

JOHNNA: Because
if we lose it, our souls belong nowhere and after we die our souls will walk
the Earth looking for where we belong

JEAN: Don’t
say anything about Mom and Dad splitting up, okay? They’re trying to play this
kind of low-key

 

Scene 3

 

BARBARA unfolds the hide-a-bed in the
living room. BILL enters from the study, carrying a thin hardback book

BILL: Look
what I found. Isn’t that great?

BARBARA: We
have copies

BILL: I
don’t think I remember a hardback edition. I forgot there was ever a time they
published poetry in hardback. Hell, I forgot there was ever a time they
published poetry at all

BARBARA: I’m
not going to be able to sleep in this heat.

BILL: I
wonder if this is worth something

BARBARA: I’m
sure it’s not

BILL: You
never know. First edition, hardback, mint condition? Academy Fellowship, uh …
Wallace Stevens Award? That’s right, isn’t it?

BARBARA: Mm-hm

BILL: This
book was a big deal

BARBARA: It
wasn’t that big a deal.

BILL: In
those circles, it was

BARBARA: Those
are small circles

BILL: (Reads
from the book) "Dedicated to my Violet." That’s nice. Christ … I
can’t imagine the kind of pressure he must’ve felt after this came out. Probably
every word he wrote after this, he had to be thinking, "What are they
going to say about this? Are they going to compare it to Meadowlark?"

BARBARA: Did
Jean go to bed?

BILL: She
just turned out the light. You would think, though, at some point, you just
say, "To hell with this," and you write something anyway and who
cares what they say about it. I mean I don’t know, myself-

BARBARA: Will
you please shut up about that fucking book?!

BILL: What’s
the matter?

BARBARA: You
are just dripping with envy over these … thirty poems my father wrote back in
the fucking sixties, for God’s sake. Don’t you hear yourself?

BILL: You’re
mistaken. I have great admiration for these poems, not envy-

BARBARA: Reciting
his list of awards-

BILL: I
was merely talking about the value-

BARBARA: My
father didn’t write anymore for a lot of reasons, but critical opinion was not
one of them, hard as that may be for you to believe. I know how important that
stuff is to you

BILL: What
are you attacking me for? I haven’t done anything

BARBARA: I’m
sure that’s what you tell Sissy, too, so she can comfort you, reassure you: "No, Billy, you haven’t
done anything."

BILL: What
does that have to do–why are you bringing that up?

BARBARA: They’re
all symptoms of your male menopause, whether it’s you struggling with the
"creative question," or screwing a girl who still wears a retainer.

BILL: All
right, look. I’m here for you. Because I want to be with you, in a difficult
time. But I’m not going to be held hostage in this room so you can attack me-

BARBARA: I’m
sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you hostage. You really should go then.

BILL: I’m
not going anywhere. I flew to Oklahoma to be here with you and now you’re stuck
with me. And her name is Cindy

BARBARA: I
know her stupid name. At least do me the courtesy of recognizing when I’m
demeaning you

BILL: Violet
really has a way of putting you in attack mode, you know it?

BARBARA: She
doesn’t have anything to do with it

BILL: Don’t
you believe it. You feel such rage for her that you can’t help dishing it my
direction-

BARBARA: I
swear to God, you psychoanalyze me right now, I skin you.

BILL: You
may not agree with my methods, but you know I’m right

BARBARA: Your
"methods." Thank you, Doctor, but I actually don’t
need any help from my mother to feel rage

BILL: You
want to argue? Is that what you need to do? Well, pick a subject, all right,
and let me know what it is, so I can have a fighting chance-

BARBARA: The
subject is me! I am the subject, you narcissistic motherfucker! I am in pain! I
need help!

(JEAN enters from the second-floor hallway, sits on the
stairway, listens.)

BILL: I’ve
copped to being a narcissist. We’re the products of a narcissistic generation.

BARBARA: You
can’t do it, can you? You can’t talk about me for two seconds-

BILL: You
called me a narcissist! And when I try to talk about you, you accuse me of
psychoanalyzing you-!

BARBARA: You
do understand that it hurts, to go from sharing a bed with you for twenty-three
years to sleeping by myself

BILL: I’m
here, now

BARBARA: Men
always say shit like that, as if the past and the future don’t exist.

BILL: Can
we not make this a gender discussion?

BARBARA: Do
men really believe that here and now is enough? It’s just horseshit, to avoid
talking about the things they’re afraid to say

BILL: I’m
not necessarily keen on the notion of saying things that would hurt you.

BARBARA: Like
what?

BILL: Don’t

BARBARA: What?
Say it. You must realize there’s nothing you can say that would hurt me any
more than I’m already hurting. The damage is done

BILL: I
think you’re wrong. I think you get in this masochistic frame of mind that actually desires to be hurt more than

BARBARA: What?!

BILL: Barbara,
please, we have enough on our hands with your parents right now. Let’s not
revisit all this

BARBARA: Revisit,
when did we visit this to begin with? You pulled the rug out from under me. I
still don’t know what happened. Do I bore you, intimidate you, disgust you? Is
this just about the pleasures of young flesh, teenage pussy? I really need to
know

BILL: You
need to know now? You want to have this discussion with Beverly missing, and
your mother as crazy as a loon, and our daughter twenty feet away? Do you
really want to do this now?

BARBARA: No.
You’re right. I’ll just hunker down for a cozy night’s sleep. Next to my
husband. (She calmly gets under the covers.)

BILL: This
discussion deserves our care. And patience. We’ll both be in a better frame of
mind to talk about this once your father’s come home

BARBARA: My
father’s dead, Bill

(She rolls onto her side, her back to BILL.)

 

Scene 4

 

Red and blue police flashers bounce
across the exterior of the house.

SHERIFF

GILBEAU stands on the front porch. The
rest of the house is dark

JOHNNA, wearing a robe, quietly knocks on the stereo cabinet in
the living room

BARBARA: Mm
… what!

JOHNNA: Excuse
me … it’s Johnna.

BARBARA: What?

JOHNNA: Excuse
me-

BARBARA: What
is it?

JOHNNA: The
sheriff’s here

BILL: Turn
on the light. (Johnna turns on a lamp, temporarily blinding BILL and BARBARA.)

JOHNNA: The
sheriff is here. (Pause. This sinks in. Then BILL and BARBARA scramble out of
bed.) Should I wake Mrs. Weston?

BARBARA: I
don’t know. Bill?

BILL: Yeah,
you better get her up. (Johnna leaves the room. Jean enters the second- floor
landing, bleary-eyed, as BILL and BARBARA scurry into clothes. BARBARA climbs
the stairs.)

JEAN: What’s
going on?

BARBARA: The
sheriff is here.

JEAN: What?

BARBARA: Go
back to bed, honey.

JEAN: Why
are the police here?

BARBARA: I
don’t know, sweetheart, please go back to bed. (Offstage, an attempt to alert
VIOLET. JOHNNA knocks on VIOLET’s bedroom door.)

JOHNNA: Mrs.
Weston? (Knocks again) Mrs. Weston. (BARBARA knocks loudly.)

BARBARA: Mom?
… Mom, wake up

VIOLET: Huh?

BARBARA: Wake
up, the sheriff’s here.

VIOLET: Did
you call them?

BARBARA: No

VIOLET: I
dig in call them

BARBARA: Mom.
The sheriff is here. You need to wake up and come downstairs.

VIOLET: Inna
esther?

BARBARA: What?

VIOLET: Inna
esther broke. ‘N’ pays me ‘em
… sturck … struck. BILL (From the bottom of the
stairs): Come on

BARBARA: (To
BILL) What … ?

BILL: Come
on. Leave her there. (BARBARA halfway descends the stairs, trailed by JOHNNA,
as BILL admits SHERIFF GILBEAU, shakes hands.) Bill Fordham, Barbara’s husband

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Hello.
Hi, Barbara

BARBARA: Oh
my God, I know you. Oh my God, Deon ..

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Yes,
ma’am. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you folks.

BARBARA: Okay –

SHERIFF GILBEAU: We found
your father. He’s dead.

BILL: Oh dear God

(BARBARA keens immediately, sinks to her
knees on the stairway. JOHNNA wraps one hand around BARBARA’s middle, places
the other hand firmly on BARBARA’s forehead. JEAN sits down all a step.)

SHERIFF GILBEAU: I am
sorry

BILL: What
happened?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: We got a
call from the lake patrol a few hours ago that Mr. Weston’s boat was found
washed up on a sandbar. We were planning to drag the lake this morning around
that area, southeast, when we got another call. Couple old boys running jug
lines in the cove, uh … hooked … Mr. Weston. And pulled him up

BILL: Now?
This time of night?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: These
guys run those lines early.

BILL: He
drowned. That’s how he died, from drowning.

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Yes, sir

BILL: Is
there any possibility … any possibility that it’s not him?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Given
the proximity of the boat to where the body was found, we’re pretty sure it’s
Mr. Weston. (BARBARA suddenly dries her eyes, shrugs JOHNNA’s grasp, stands.)

BARBARA: All
right. Okay. So what happens? What do we do now?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: I need a
relative to come with me to positively identify the body.

BILL: To
your station house

SHERIFF GILBEAU: No, sir,
he’s still at the lake.

BARBARA: Oh
God, I don’t think I can do this

SHERIFF GILBEAU: I’m
sorry

BILL: I’ll
go. Can I go? Can I do it?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: I need a
blood relative. But if Barbara is the one to identify him, I suggest you come
along

BARBARA: Bill,
I can’t do it

BILL: Honey,
what choice do we have?

JEAN: I
can do it. I’m a blood relative

BARBARA: No,
no. No, I’ll do it. I will. (Johnna exits to the kitchen, turns on the lights,
starts a pot of coffee.}

BILL: Can
we have a couple of minutes to get ready?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Yes,
sir. Barbara? (She turns to him.) I’m very sorry. This is the hardest part of
my job. And I’m … to do it for someone you know …I’m just
.. very sorry. (She nods.)

BILL: What
do you want to do about your mother?

BARBARA: I
… I … fuck it. (Laughs) Fuck it. I’ll go … put some clothes on

BILL: I’ll
be right up. Jean, help your mother, okay? (BARBARA and JEAN exit down the
second-floor hallway. Bill pulls SHERIFF GILBEAU into the study.) Is there any
way to determine if he-I mean, is this an accident, or suicide?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: There’s
really no way to tell

BILL: What
do you think happened? I mean … what’s your guess?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Suicide.
I would guess suicide. But the official cause of death is "drowning."
And that’s the extent of it.

BILL: I
understand

SHERIFF GILBEAU: I should
warn you. That body has been in the water for all of three days

BILL: Right

SHERIFF GILBEAU: I think
you should try to prepare your wife, if you can.

BILL: "Prepare
her …"

SHERIFF GILBEAU: What
happens to a body. It’s very bloated. It’s an ugly color. And fish have eaten
the eyes

BILL: Oh
Christ. How does a person jump in the water … and choose not to swim? SHERIFF
GILBEAU: I don’t think you do
unless you really mean business

BILL: Choose
not to swim. (Lights shift to the second-floor landing as BARBARA and JEAN
enter. JEAN sits on the window seat as BARBARA takes a brush through her hair.)

JEAN: What
about Aunt Ivy?

BARBARA: I
guess we’ll stop there on the way back and tell her. Christ, I need to call
Karen, too. What the fuck am I brushing my hair for? (She throws the brush. She
slumps on the window seat next to JEAN.) I used to go out with that boy. With
that man

JEAN: What
man?

BARBARA: The
sheriff

JEAN: You
did?

BARBARA: Yeah,
in high school. He was my prom date.

JEAN: You’re
kidding

BARBARA: The
day of the prom, his father got drunk and stole his car. Stole his own son’s
car and went somewhere. Mexico. Deon showed up at the door, wearing this awful
tuxedo. He’d been crying, I could tell. And he confessed he didn’t have a way
to take me to the prom. I just felt awful for him, so I told him we’d walk.
About three miles. I busted a heel and we both got so sweaty and dirty. We gave
up… got a six-pack and broke into the chapel, stayed up all night talking and
kissing. And now he’s here telling me . . . oh, it’s just surreal. Thank God we
can’t tell the future. We’d never get out of bed.

(She fixes JEAN with a look)

Listen to me: die after me, all right? I don’t care what else you do, where you
go, how you screw up your life, just … survive Outlive me, please.

JEAN: I’ll
do my best. (BILL enters.)

BILL: You
ready?

BARBARA: Give
me a second. (Lights shift to the study, where SHERIFF GILBEAU waits. VIOLET,
wearing silk pajamas, shakily descends the stairs, crosses into the study.)

VIOLET: Izza
story

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Hello,
Violet.

VIOLET: Barely’s back

SHERIFF GILBEAU: I beg
your pardon?

VIOLET: Did
sum Beer-ley come home?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Ma’am.
(VIOLET shuffles up to SHERIFF GILBEAU.)

VIOLET: Gizza cig … some cigezze? Cig-zezz, cig-zizz. cig-uhzzz.

(She laughs at her own inability to
speak. SHERIFF GILBEAU takes a Pall Mall from his shirt pocket, hands it to
her. She stands, sways, holding the cigarette in her mouth. He lights it.)

In the archa, archa-tex?
I’m in the bottom. Izza bottom of them. Inna … ell.

(She shuffles to the stereo in the living room … )

His master’s voice.

(… and plays a song "Lay Down, Sally,” by Clapton. SHERIFF GILBEAU
trails her into the living room.) Mm, good beat. Right?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Yes,
ma’am. (She does a jerky little dance, puffing on her cigarette.)

VIOLET: Barbara?!
Is Barbara here?!

SHERIFF GILBEAU: She’s
upstairs

VIOLET: Barbara?!
Izza time in duhh … izza
time? What’s time?! SHERIFF GILBEAU: It’s
about 5:45

VIOLET: BARB’RA!
BARB’RA! (BARBARA, Bill, JEAN and JOHNNA enter from various points in the
house. VIOLET sees them, continues her tight little dance.) Idn’t
it’s good beat? Inna good beats. Mmm, I been on the
music … pell-man onna
sheriff. C. J.’s boy. Right? Donna two inna school?
Armen in tandel s’lossle, s’lost? Lost?! From the day, the days. Am Beerly … and
Beverly lost? (VIOLET abandons her dance, separates invisible threads in the
air. The others stand frozen, staring at her.) And then you’re here. And Barbara,
and then you’re here, and Beverly, and then you’re here, and then you’re here,
and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then
you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here,
and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then
you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here
… (Blackout.)

End of Act One

 

ACT TWO

 

The house has been manifestly refreshed,
presumably by Johnna’ s hand. The dull, dusty finish has been replaced by the
transparent gleam of function

Of note: The study has been reorganized.
Stacks of paper arc neater, books are shelved. The dining room table is set
with the fine china, candles, a floral centerpiece.
In a corner of the dining room, a "kid’s table," with seating for
two, is also set. The warm, clean kitchen now bubbles and steams, redolent of
collard and kale

At rise:

Three o’clock of an eternal Oklahoma
afternoon. The body of BEVERLY Weston has just been buried

VIOLET, relatively sober now, in a
handsome modern black dress, stands in Beverly’s study, a bottle of pills in
her hand

Elsewhere in the house: KAREN and BARBARA
are in the dining room. Johnna is in the kitchen

VIOLET: August
… your month. Locusts are raging. "Summer psalm become summer
wrath." ‘Course it’s only August out there. In here … who knows? All
right … okay. “The Carriage held but just Ourselves," dum-de-dum . . . mm, best I got .
. . Emily Dickinson’s all I got . . . something something,
"Horse’s Heads Were Toward Eternity …"

(She takes a pill.)

That’s for me … one for me … (She picks up the hardback copy of Meadowlark,
flips to the dedication.) "Dedicated to my VIOLET." Put that one in
marble.

(She drops the book on the desk. She takes a pill.)

For the girls, God love ‘em. That’s all I can
dedicate to you, sorry to say. Other than them … not one thing. Nothing. You
think I’ll weep for you? Think I’ll play that part, like we played the others?

(She takes a pill.)

You made your choice. You made this happen. You answer for this … not me. Not
me. This is not mine. (Lights crossfade to the dining room BARBARA and KAREN,
wearing black dresses, fold napkins, munch food from a relish tray, etc.)

KAREN: The
present. Today, here and now. I think I spent so much of my early life thinking
about what’s to come, y’know, who would I marry,
would he be a lawyer or a football player, would he be dark-haired and
good-looking and broad-shouldered. I spent a lot of time in that bedroom
upstairs pretending my pillow was my husband and I’d ask him about his day at
work and what was happening at the office, and did he like the dinner I made
for him and where were we going to vacation that winter and he’d surprise me
with tickets to Belize and we’d kiss-I mean I’d kiss my pillow, make out with
my pillow, and then I’d tell him I’d been to the doctor that day and I’d found
out I was pregnant. I know how pathetic all that sounds now, but it was
innocent enough … Then real life takes over because it always does-

BARBARA: -uh-huh

KAREN: -and
things work out differently than you’d planned. That pillow was a better
husband than any real man I’d ever met; this parade of men fails to live up to
your expectations, all of them so much less than Daddy or Bill (you know I
always envied you finding Bill). And you punish yourself, tell yourself it’s
your fault you can’t find a good one, you’ve only deluded yourself into
thinking they’re better than they are. I don’t know how well you remember
Andrew…

BARBARA: No,
I remember

KAREN: That’s
the best example: here’s a guy I loved so intensely, and all the things he did
wrong were just opportunities for me to make things right. So
if he cheated on me or he called me a cunt, I’d think
to myself, "No, you love him, you love him forever, and here’s an
opportunity to make an adjustment in the way you view the world." And I
can’t say when the precise moment was that I looked in the mirror and said,
"Okay, moron," and walked out, but it kicked off this whole period of
reflection, just swamped in this sticky recollection. How had I screwed it up,
where’d I go wrong, and before you know it you can’t move forward, you’re just
suspended there, you can’t move forward because you can’t stop thinking
backward, I mean, you know … years! Years of punishment, self-loathing. And
that’s when I got into all those books and discussion groups-

BARBARA: And
Scientology, too, right, or something like that?-

KAREN: Yes,
exactly, and finally one day, I threw it all out, I just said, "No, it’s
me. It’s just me, here and now, with my music on the stereo and my glass of
wine and Bloomers my cat; and I don’t need anything else, I can live my life
with myself." And I got my license, threw myself into my work, sold a lot
of houses, and that’s when I met Steve. That’s how it happens, of course, you
only really find it when you’re not looking for it, suddenly you turn around
and there it is. And then the things you thought were so important aren’t really important. I mean, when I made out with my pillow, I
never imagined Steve! Here he is, you know, this kinda
country club Chamber of Commerce guy, ten years older than me, but a thinker,
you know, someone who’s been around, and he’s just so good. He’s a good man and
he’s good to me and he’s good for me

BARBARA: That’s
great, Karen-

KAREN: He’s
got this great business and it’s because he has these great ideas and he’s
unafraid to make his ideas realities, you know, he’s not afraid of doing. I
think men on the whole are better at that than women,
don’t you? Doing, just jumping in and doing, right or wrong, we’ll figure out
what it all means later. And the best thing about him, the best thing about him
for me, is that now what I think about is now. I live now. My focus, my life,
my world is now. I don’t give a care about the past anymore, the mistakes I
made, the way I thought, I won’t go back there. And I’ve realized you can’t
plan the future, because as soon as you do, you know, something happens, some
terrible thing happens-

BARBARA: Like
your father drowning himself

KAREN: Exactly!
Exactly, that’s exactly what I mean! That’s not something you plan for! There’s
no contingency; you take it as it comes, here and now! Steve had a very
important presentation today, for some bigwig government guys who could be very
important for his business, something he’s been putting together for months,
and as soon as we heard about Daddy, he called and canceled his meeting. He has
his priorities straight. And you know what the kicker is? (BARBARA waits.) Do
you know what the kicker is?

BARBARA: What’s
the kicker?

KAREN: We’re
going to Belize on our honeymoon. (Johnna enters from the kitchen, bringing in
a pitcher of iced tea.)

BARBARA: Sorry.
Hot flash

KAREN: I
never told him my little Belize fantasy, he just up and surprised me with
tickets for after the wedding

BARBARA: (To
JOHNNA) God, that smells good, what are we having?

JOHNNA: Urn
… baked chicken, fried potatoes, green bean casserole … some greens …

BARBARA: Did
Mattie Fae bring her green bean casserole?

JOHNNA: Oh.
I don’t know. Should I not have made it?

BARBARA: No,
it’s good you did, hers is inedible. (Johnna exits.)

KAREN: I
rnean, can you believe that about Belize?

BARBARA: That’s
terrific

KAREN: I
know you only just met him, but did you get a read off him? Did you like him?

BARBARA: We
said two words to each other

KAREN: But
you still get a feel, don’t you? Did you get a feel?

BARBARA: He
seemed very nice, sweetheart

KAREN: He
is, and-

BARBARA: -but
what I think about him doesn’t matter. I’m not marrying him-

KAREN: You’ll
come to the wedding, won’t you?

BARBARA: Yeah,
when is it again?

KAREN: New
Year’s Day. One reason we chose New Year’s is because I know you and Bill have
a break from school and it’s important to me that you’re there

BARBARA: It’s
in Sarasota?

KAREN: Miami.
Didn’t you know I moved to Miami?

BARBARA: Wait,
yes, I did know that-

KAREN: That’s
where Steve’s business-

BARBARA: -right,
right

KAREN: I
guess what I’m telling you is that I’m finally happy. I’ve been really unhappy for most of my life, my adult life. I doubt
you’ve been aware of that. I know our lives have led us apart, you, me and Ivy,
and maybe we’re not as close as we … as close as some families-

BARBARA: Yeah,
we really need to talk about Mom, what to do about Mom-

KAREN: -but
I think at least one reason for that is that I haven’t wanted to live my
unhappiness in full view of my family. But now I’m … well, I’m just really happy. And I’d really like us to maybe get to know
each other a little better

BARBARA: Yes.
Yes. (KAREN wraps her arms around BARBARA.) Okay. Yes. (They separate.) Christ,
where are they with the wine already?

KAREN: And
see, there’s another example, Steve doesn’t know a soul here, but he jumped
right in the car with Bill and Jean to go get the wine. He’s family! (Lights
crossfade to the second-floor landing. IVY enters, pursued by VIOLET, who
carries a dress and a pair of high heels. MATTIE FAE follows, rooting through a
box of photographs. Like VIOLET, MATTIE FAE wears a black dress; IVY wears a
black suit. During the following, BARBARA and KAREN exit to the kitchen.)

IVY: I
really don’t want to

VIOLET: It
won’t kill you to try it on-

MATTIE FAE: (Regarding
photographs) Oh, this is a sweet one, Vi-

IVY: I
find all this a tidge morbid, quite frankly-

MATTIE FAE: Look
at this, Ivy-

VIOLET: What’s
morbid about it?

IVY: -and
I’m really not prepared to look at these photographs
right now-

VIOLET: This
is a beautiful dress and it’s very modern

IVY: It’s
not my style, Mom-

MATTIE FAE: Where
was this taken?-

VIOLET: You
don’t have a style, that’s the whole point-

MATTIE FAE: Vi?

VIOLET: (Glancing
at the photo) New York City. That’s from the first book tour, New York

IVY: You
mean I don’t have your style. I have a style of my own-

MATTIE FAE: "New
York City, I964"-

VIOLET: Honey,
you wore a suit to your father’s funeral. A woman doesn’t wear a suit to a
funeral-

IVY: God,
you’re weird; it’s a black suit.

VIOLET: You
look like a magician’s assistant.

IVY: You
know-

MATTIE FAE: Little
Charles has been talking about moving to New York

IVY: -why
do you feel it necessary to-?

MATTIE FAE: Can
you picture that?

VIOLET: Don’t
discourage him now-

MATTIE FAE: He
wouldn’t last a day in that city. They’d tear him apart.

IVY: Why
do you feel it-?

MATTIE FAE: I
could kill that kid-

IVY: Why
do you feel it necessary to insult me?

VIOLET: Stop
being so sensitive

MATTIE FAE: He
overslept? For my brother-in-law’s funeral? A noon service?

IVY: I’m
sure there’s more to the story than-

MATTIE FAE: You
shouldn’t make excuses for him. That’s what Charlie does, has always done. Just,
"Oh, he overslept, la-di-da, I’ll go pick him up at the bus station."

IVY: You’re
so hard on him

MATTIE FAE: Boy’s
thirty-seven years old and can’t drive?

VIOLET: He’s
a little different, I’ll give you that

IVY: I
think you’re being-

MATTIE FAE: Who
can’t drive?

IVY: I
don’t think you’re very-

MATTIE FAE: I’ve
seen a chimp drive

VIOLET: Will
you take off that cheap suit and try this on for me, please?

IVY: Cheap?!
Did you call this-?!

MATTIE FAE: Is
this the kind of thing you had in mind, Vi?

VIOLET: No,
it’s to go on the sideboard for the meal, so it should be something we easily
recognize

MATTIE FAE: You
mean something big.

VIOLET: Yes.
I have a frame we can-

IVY: This
is the most expensive item of clothing I own

VIOLET: I
don’t see what difference that matters, how much you paid for it. A suit of
armor is expensive, too, but that doesn’t make it appropriate-

MATTIE FAE: Well,
this one’s big, but it’s of the two of you-

IVY: Why
are you trying to give away your clothes?

MATTIE FAE: Do
you mind if it’s of the two of you?

VIOLET: All
this shit’s going. I’m downgrading

IVY: "Downgrading.”

VIOLET: Downsizing,
I’m downsizing.

IVY: You’re
"downsizing"-

MATTIE FAE: Vi,
do you think this is-?

VIOLET: I’m
serious, it’s all going. I don’t plan to spend the rest of my days walking
around and looking at what used to be. I want that shit in the office gone, I
want all these clothes I’m never going to wear gone, I want it all gone! I mean
look at these fucking shoes.

(Holds up the high heels)

Can you picture me in these? Even if I didn’t fall on my face, can you imagine
anything less attractive, my swollen ankles and varicose veins? And my
toenails, good God, anymore they could dig through cement.

(MATTIE FAE holds a photograph in front of VIOLET.)

MATTIE FAE: Is
this the idea?

VIOLET: (Takes
the photograph) Look at me. (Shows the photograph to IVY) Look at me

IVY: You’re
beautiful, Mom

VIOLET: I
was beautiful. Not anymore.

MATTIE FAE: Oh,
now-

IVY: You’re
still beautiful

VIOLET: No.
One of those lies we tell to give us comfort, but don’t you believe it. Women
are beautiful when they’re young, and not after. Men can still preserve their
sex appeal well into old age. I don’t mean those men like you see with shorts
and those little purses around their waists. Some men can maintain, if they
embrace it … cragginess, weary masculinity. Women just get old and fat and
wrinkly

MATTIE FAE: I
beg your pardon

VIOLET: Think
about what makes a young woman sexy. Think about the last time you went to the
mall and saw some sweet little gal and thought, "She’s a cute trick."
What makes her that way? Taut skin, firm boobs, an ass above her knees-

MATTIE FAE: I’m
still very sexy, thank you very much

VIOLET: You’re
about as sexy as a wet cardboard box, Mattie Fae, you and me both. Don’t kid
yourself. Look…can we all just stop kidding ourselves? Wouldn’t we be better
off, all of us, if we stopped lying about these things and told the truth?
”Women aren’t sexy when they’re old." I can live with that. Can you live
with that?

MATTIE FAE: I
can live with it, but I disagree. What about Sophia Loren? What about Lena
Horne? She stayed sexy until she was eighty

VIOLET: The
world is round. Get over it. Now try this dress on.

IVY: I’m
sorry, I won’t

VIOLET: Ivy

IVY: All
right, the heat in here is getting just stupid now-

VIOLET: Now
listen to me: you don’t know how to attract a man. I do. That’s something I’ve
always-

IVY: It’s
a funeral! We just buried my father, I’m not trying to
attract-!

VIOLET: I’m
not talking about today, dummy, this is something you can wear some-

IVY: I
have a man. All right? I have a man. (MATTIE FAE turns her attention to IVY.)

VIOLET: You
said … you told me you weren’t looking for a man-

IVY: And
I’m not. Because I have one. Okay? Now will you leave it alone? (Pause.)

VIOLET: No.
I won’t leave it alone.

MATTIE FAE: No,
let’s not leave it alone.

IVY: I
wish you both could see the brainsick looks on your faces

VIOLET: Who
is it?

IVY: Nobody.
Forget it-

VIOLET: No,
no you don’t, I want to know who you’re-

IVY: I’m
not talking about this-

MATTIE FAE: Ivy,
please tell us-

IVY: No

MATTIE FAE: Is
he someone from school?

VIOLET: Tell
me you’re not back with Loser Barry.

IVY: No,
it isn’t Barry

VIOLET: Thank
you, Jesus

MATTIE FAE: Tell
us something, how old is he, what does he do?-

IVY: I’m
not telling you anything, either of you, so you might as well-

MATTIE FAE: You
have to tell us something!

IVY: No,
I really don’t.

VIOLET: Are
you in love, Ivy?

IVY (Stunned): I
… I don’t … I’m … (She bursts into awkward laughter and exits down the
second-floor hallway. VIOLET and MATTIE FAE squeal and follow IVY off. Lights
crossfade to the front porch as JEAN zips inside. She races to the TV, turns it
on, finds a channel, and sits improbably close. BILL and STEVE Heidebrecht
follow, dressed in dark suits and laden with paper grocery bags.)

STEVE: No,
we maintain the accounts offshore, just until we get approvals.

BILL: To
get around approvals?

STEVE: To
get around approvals until we get approvals. There’s a lot of red tape, a lot
of bureaucracy. I don’t know how much you know about Florida, Florida politics-

BILL: Only
what I read and that’s-

STEVE: Right,
right, and this kind of business in particular-

BILL: I’m
sorry, what is the business again? I don’t-

STEVE: You
know, it’s essentially security work. The situation in the Middle East is perpetually
dangerous, so there’s a tremendous amount of money involved-

BILL: Security
work. You mean … mercenary? (BARBARA enters from the kitchen.)

BARBARA: Give.
Me. The wine. (She pulls a bottle of wine from BILL’s grocery bag.)

STEVE: I
think of it more like "missionary’,’ than "mercenary."

BARBARA: (To
JEAN, regarding the TV) Is that what you were in such a hurry to get home for?

JEAN: Yeah

BARBARA: What
the hell is on TV that’s so important you can’t-?

JEAN: Phantom
of the Opera, I925. Lon Chaney

BILL: Cool

BARBARA: For
God’s sake, Jean, you can get it at any video store.

JEAN: No,
but they’re showing it with the scene in color restored

BILL: Oh,
no kidding, from the … what’s that scene called again, sweetie? "The
Masked Ball"?

JEAN: Yeah

BARBARA: Let
me make sure I’ve got this: when you threw a fit about going to the store with
your father-hey. Look at me. (She does.) And you were so very distraught over
the start time of your grandpa’s funeral. Was this your concern? Getting back
here in time to watch the Phantom of the Fucking Opera?

JEAN: I
guess. (BARBARA gives JEAN a withering look, exits.)

BILL: (To
STEVE) I’ll take these into the kitchen.

STEVE: No,
I can

BILL: I’ve
got it. (BILL takes STEVE’s grocery bag and follows BARBARA into the kitchen.)

STEVE: Movie
buff?

JEAN: Yeah

STEVE: Right,
right, me too. You ever seen this?

JEAN: Huh-uh

STEVE: It’s
a great one. You know Chaney designed his own makeup.

JEAN: I
know

STEVE: Apparently
very painful. He ran these fishing lines from under his nostrils and pulled
them up under his-

JEAN: Yeah,
I know. ,

STEVE: You
see any of the remakes? They’re pretty bad.

JEAN: I’ve
seen the one with Claude Rains

STEVE: Right,
right, pretty bad, right? Phantom’s queer. That’s a
problem.

JEAN: I
don’t remember it so hot, I was just a kid

STEVE: Yeah
… (STEVE sits on the couch behind her. They watch the movie for a moment.)
You’re not a kid anymore, I guess

JEAN: What?

STEVE: I
say you’re not a kid anymore.

JEAN: No.
I mean, yeah

STEVE: How
old are you, about, seventeen?

JEAN: Fifteen

STEVE: Right,
right. Fifteen. That’s no kid. (They watch TV.) You’re no kid. (Beat) You know
what I was doing when I was fifteen?

JEAN: What?

STEVE: Cattle
processing. You know what that is?

JEAN: It
doesn’t sound good

STEVE: Slaughterhouse.
Sanitation. Slaughterhouse sanitation.

JEAN: That’s
disgusting

STEVE: I
don’t recommend it. But hey. Put food on the table. Get it? (He sniffs; the
air.) Whoa, whoa. Wait now. What’s that smell?

JEAN: Food,
from the kitchen

STEVE: Nah,
that’s not what I’m smelling. (He continues to sniff the air, follows his nose,
until he is on the floor, above her. He smells her.)

JEAN: What
are you doing?

STEVE: Do
I smell what I think I smell?

JEAN: What
do you smell?

STEVE: What
do you think I smell?

JEAN: I
think you smell food from the kitchen

STEVE: Guess
again. (He whiffs, hard, breathing her in.)

JEAN: What
are you-?

STEVE: Is
that-is that pot?

JEAN: Oh.
I don’t know. (She smells her sleeve.)

STEVE: You
smoking pot?

JEAN: No

STEVE: You
can tell me.

JEAN: No

STEVE: Is
it just me, or is it getting hot in here?

JEAN: It’s
hot

STEVE: You’re
hot?

JEAN: Yeah ..

STEVE: How
hot are you?

JEAN: Really
hot

STEVE: Really
hot.

JEAN: Yeah

STEVE: Yeah
… you a little dope smoker? (No response.) Well then you are in luck. Because
I just happen to have some really tasty shit. Because
I just happen to have some really good connects. And I
am going to hook you up

JEAN: That
would be great ’cause I just smoked my last bowl, and
I really need to get fucked up

STEVE: You
what?

JEAN: I
really need to get fucked up-

STEVE: You
need to get what?

JEAN: Fucked
up-

STEVE: What?
You need to get fucked what? (She snort-laughs, pushes him away.)

JEAN: You’re
bad

STEVE: I’m
just goofin‘ with you. (KAREN enters from the
kitchen, finds STEVE on the floor, looming over JEAN.) Hi, sweetheart

KAREN: What
are you doing?

STEVE: Goofin‘ with your niece

KAREN: I
think we’re getting ready to eat.

STEVE: Right,
right, I’m starving

KAREN: Did
you remember to get cigarettes?

STEVE: Damn
it. (To JEAN) Didn’t, I ask you what I was forgetting? I knew I was forgetting
something

KAREN: I’ll
have to borrow from Momma.

JEAN: I’ve
got cigarettes

KAREN: You’ve
got cigarettes.

JEAN: Camel
Lights?

STEVE: She’s
got our brand

KAREN: Jean,
honey, you’re too young to smoke.

STEVE: (Faux
stern) Yeah

KAREN: (Whacks
him playfully) Stop it now, don’t encourage her-

STEVE: Hey,
she’s no kid-

KAREN: Can
we borrow a couple of cigarettes?

JEAN: Yep-per.
(Jean gets cigarettes from her purse.)

STEVE: Now
let’s not encourage her-

KAREN: Oh,
hush. (Takes cigarettes) Thanks, doll. Now stop smoking. (Jean watches TV.
KAREN snuggles with STEVE, speaks in a baby voice.) Hi, doodle

STEVE: Hey,
baby

KAREN: (In
a super baby voice) Hi, doodle! (STEVE embraces her. They kiss. His hands
wander, squeeze her ass. She giggles, then breaks it.) Come into the backyard,
I want to show you our old fort. Man, the air in here just doesn’t move …
(She goes ahead of him. He follows, but stops …)

STEVE: (Privately,
to Jean) Hook you up, later. (… rubs his hand over the entirety of Jean’s
face. He exits. Lights crossfade to the front porch as CHARLIE and LITTLE
CHARLES arrive.)

LITTLE CHARLES: I’m
sorry, Dad

CHARLIE: Stop
apologizing to me. Hold on a second, comb your hair. (CHARLIE gives LITTLE
CHARLES a comb.)

LITTLE CHARLES: I know
Mom’s mad at me.

CHARLIE: Don’t
worry about her

LITTLE CHARLES: What
did she say?

CHARLIE: You
know your mother, she says what she says.

LITTLE CHARLES: I set
the alarm. I did.

CHARLIE: I
know you did

LITTLE CHARLES: I
wanted to be there.

CHARLIE: You’re
here now

LITTLE CHARLES: I loved
Uncle Bev, you know that

CHARLIE: Stop
apologizing

LITTLE CHARLES: The
power must’ve gone out. I woke up and the clock was blinking noon. That means
the power went out, right?

CHARLIE: It’s
okay

LITTLE CHARLES: I
missed his funeral!

CHARLIE: It’s
a ceremony. It’s ceremonial. It doesn’t mean anything compared to what you have
in your heart

LITTLE CHARLES: Uncle
Bev must be disappointed in me

CHARLIE: Your
Uncle Bev has got bigger and better things ahead of him. He doesn’t have time
for spite. He wasn’t that kind of man anyway. (LITTLE CHARLES weeps.) Hey.
Little Charles. Hey. It’s okay. It’s okay, now ..

LITTLE CHARLES: Just
… it’s just … you know, I know how things are. I know how they feel about
me, and when, something like this … you want to be there for people, and-

CHARLIE: –shhhh–

LITTLE CHARLES: -I
missed Uncle Bev’s funeral, and I know how they feel about me

CHARLIE: Who,
how who feels about you? Feels what about you?

LITTLE CHARLES: All of
them. I know what they say.

CHARLIE: They
don’t say things about you-,

LITTLE CHARLES: I see
how they ate. I don’t blame them. I’m sorry I let you down", Dad.

CHARLIE: You
haven’t let me down. You never let me down. Now listen here … you’re wrong
about these people, they love you. Some of them haven’t gotten a chance to see
what I see: a fine man, very loving, with a lot to offer. Now take this …
(Gives LITTLE CHARLES a handkerchief) Give me my comb. Stand up straight. Look
folks in the eye. And stop being so hard on yourself

LITTLE CHARLES: I love
you, Dad

CHARLIE: Love
you too, son. (CHARLIE claps LITTLE CHARLES on the back as they enter the
living room. Lights crossfade to the dining room as BARBARA and BILL enter from
the kitchen. Johnna occasionally interrupts as she moves between the kitchen
and the dining room, setting the table with food.)

BILL: Jean
doesn’t understand all this. You think she has any concept-?

BARBARA: Phantom
of the Opera-

BILL: Do
you remember what it was like to be fourteen?

BARBARA: She’s
old enough to exhibit a little character. But then I guess that’s something you
normally learn from your parents

BILL: That’s
a shot across my bow, right? I missed something.

BARBARA: Really?
Instilling character: our burden, as parents.

BILL: I
got that part

BARBARA: And
you really haven’t been much of a parent lately, so it’s tough to expect-

BILL: Just
because you and I are struggling with this Gordian knot doesn’t make me any
less of a-

BARBARA: Nice,
"Gordian knot," but her little fourteen-year-old self might view it
differently, might consider it "abandonment"-

BILL: Oh,
come on-

BARBARA: Maybe
she views her father as "absent," or maybe "not present,"
or perhaps even "a son-of-a-bitch."

BILL: Jean’s
a little more sophisticated than that, don’t you think?

BARBARA: Pretty
fucking sophisticated, the restored whatever from Phantom of the Opera, I know
that makes your dick hard-

BILL: Barbara-

BARBARA: Precocious
little shit-

BILL: I’m
not defending her

BARBARA: (Voice
rising) I’m not blaming her, because I don’t expect her to act any differently
when her father is a selfish son-of-a-bitch.

BILL: (Voice rising) I’m
on your side. How can we fight when I’m on your side? Barbara. . .Barbara,
settle down!

BARBARA: Be
a father! Help me!

BILL: I
am her father, goddamn it!

BARBARA: Her
father in absentia, her father in name only!-

BILL: I
have not forsook my responsibilities!-

BARBARA: It’s
"forsaken," big shot!

BILL: Actually,
"forsook" is also an acceptable usage!-

BARBARA: Oh,
"forsook" you and the horse you rode in on!

BILL: So we need to fight on your terms then: on topic one moment,
and whimsical insults the next, all of it when it suits you-

BARBARA: We
covered this around Year Three,

BILL: that
you’re the Master of Space and Time and I’m a spastic Pomeranian

BILL: That’s
not fair.

BARBARA: I’m
sick of being fair! I’ve seen where being fair gets me! I’m sick of the whole
notion of the enduring female. GROW UP! ‘Cause while
you’re going through your fifth puberty, the world is falling apart, and I
can’t handle it! More importantly, your kid can’t handle it!

BILL: Our
kid is just trying to deal with this goddamn madhouse you’ve dragged her into

BARBARA: This
madhouse is my home

BILL: Think
about that statement for a second, why don’t you?

BARBARA: Jean
is here with me because this is a family event

BILL: Jean’s
here with you because she’s a buffer between you and the shrill insanity of
your mother

BARBARA: Y’know, you’d have a lot more credibility if you had any
credibility

BILL: You
can’t resist, can you?

BARBARA: You’re
a pretty easy mark

BILL: You’
re so goddamn self-righteous, you know? You’re so-

BARBARA: Surely
you must’ve known when you started porking Pippi
Longstocking you were due for a little self-righteousness, just a smidgen of
indignation on my part-

BILL: Maybe
I split because of it

BARBARA: Is
this your confession, then, when you finally unload all-?

BILL: You’re
thoughtful, Barbara, but you’re not open. You’re passionate, but you’re hard.
You’re a good, decent, funny, wonderful woman, and I love you, but you’re a
pain in the ass.

(Lights up on the entire house: BILL
exits to the porch, gathers himself KAREN and STEVE reenter, run into BARBARA
in the sitting room. MATTIE FAE descends the stairs to the living room where
JEAN, CHARLIE and LITTLE CHARLES watch TV. VIOLET and IVY reenter the
second-floor landing.)

JOHNNA: Dinner’s
ready

STEVE: I told you, smoke a cigarette and the food comes — KAREN: (To Barbara) When’s the last time someone mowed the yard around here? BARBARA: Hm? KAREN: I just showed Steve our old fort, have you been out there? BARBARA: No, I haven’t — STEVE: Barb, would you consider me uncouth if I removed my suit jacket? KAREN: Are you okay? BARBARA: Yeah, I’m fine. STEVE: Barbara, can I . . . ? BARBARA: Yeah, sure. KAREN: Poor thing, you’ve had a long few days, haven’t you? STEVE: Sure she has. KAREN: I know how I get during these times, I think, “I couldn’t eat a bite,” but then you put a plate of hot food in front of me and suddenly I’m starving. (A pause, as Barbara seems to take them in for the first time.) BARBARA: You’re right. Let’s eat. STEVE: Let’s eat! (They cross from the kitchen into the dining room.)

MATTIE FAE: Well, look who decided to show up. I’m sorry we woke you, sweetheart. LITTLE CHARLES: Mom, I’m so sorry MATTIE FAE: I’m sure you are CHARLIE: He’s here now and that’s all that matters. MATTIE FAE: It’S really not all that matters — LITTLE CHARLES: The electricity must have gone out, I woke up and the clock — MATTIE : Don’t go through it all, Little Charles. There’s no need to go through all — CHARLIE: Honey, the boy’s trying to tell you he’s sorry — MATTIE FAE: Stop making excuses for him, he’s thirty- seven years old — CHARLIE: Please let’s not have this argument now. MATTIE FAE: I’m not arguing. LITTLE CHARLES: I know I let you down, Mom MATTIE FAE: What else is new? CHARLIE: You behave yourself, there’s more important things — MATTIE FAE: I’m not talking about this anymore, I’m ready to eat. Did you bring my casserole in from— ? CHARLIE: No, I’ll get it n’ow. MATTIE FAE: You let my casserole sit for an hour inside a hot car? — CHARLIE: I’ll get it, I’ll get it — LITTLE CHARLES: Til get it. (Little Charles exits the house.)

IVY: I’m serious, if you say anything — VIOLET: You didn’t say I couldn’t tell people — IVY: I’m telling you now. VIOLET: Why are you so worked up? You’re seeing someone, I think that’s great IVY: Don’t you dare — VIOLET: You’d think you might be happy to tell your family some good news, on a day like today? — IVY: It’s nobody’s business. VIOLET: Folks only want what’s best for you. IVY: It’s nobody’s business! VIOLET: Why should I do you any favors? IVY: not? Why wouldn’t you? VIOLET: You wouldn’t even try on my dress — IVY: I’m not bargaining with you! VIOLET: You’re so melodramatic IVY: I’m going downstairs to eat now because you are impossible. VIOLET: (Sarcastic) I’m sorry to be so impossible, it’s been kind of a tough day — IVY: Tough on everybody, Mom.

(Ivy heads downstairs, enters the living
room as Matte Fae and Charlie join Barara, Karen, Steve and Johnna in the
dining room. They gradually take their seats. Bill reenters from the porch,
crosses into the living room.)

KAREN: This just looks lovely. (To Johnna) Did you do all this?	MATTIE FAE: What a pretty table!	BILL: Jean. Time to eat. JEAN: I don’t suppose it would be okay if I ate out here. BILL: You suppose right. IVY: Did I hear Little Charles? BILL: Yeah, I think so— JEAN: You’re just gonna stick me at the kid’s table anyway. BILL: I’m not in the mood for this right now, okay? IVY: Is he—do you know where he is? BILL: I think he went outside for something— (Ivy exits to the front porch. Jean stomps toward the dining room. Bill stops her.) Why are you giving me all this attitude? JEAN: I’m not. BILL: You do realize your mother needs you at your best right now. JEAN: Mom’s not the one crawling up my ass. BILL: Never mind. Wash up for dinner. JEAN: “Wash up”? I’m not performing surgery. (Jean and Bill enter the dining room.)
JOHNNA: Mm-hm.	BARBARA: She does it all, this one.
STEVE: The chicken looks tasty, doesn’t it?— MATTIE FAE: Do we have enough seats?
BARBARA: I think so . . .	CHARLIE: Where do you want to sit?
MATTIE FAE: This’ll be fine, right here— KAREN: Sit by me, honey. STEVE: Okie-doke. BARBARA: Who gets stuck with Jean at the kid’s table? MATTIE FAE: We’ll put Mr. Little Charles there.
CHARLIE: Are you serious?	KAREN: Nooo, now—
MATTIE FAE: Who else is going to sit there? Do you want to sit there? CHARLIE: He’s going to know you’re trying to punish him— JOHNNA: I can sit there, it’s okay. MATTIE FAE: After you went to all the trouble of cooking this fabulous meal—? JOHNNA: I don’t mind.

 

(As the family continues to settle in for
the meal, lights shift again: up on the front porch. IVY greets LITTLE CHARLES
as he returns with MATTIE FAE’s casserole.)

IVY: Hey

LITTLE CHARLES: Hi

IVY: Are
you okay?

LITTLE CHARLES: Not
really.

IVY: They
said you overslept

LITTLE CHARLES: I don’t
know, maybe I purposely accidentally overslept. I don’t know. I’m so sorry-

IVY: Please

LITTLE CHARLES: I know
you’ve had one of the worst days of your life and I’m just sorry if I made it
any-

IVY: Stop.
We don’t have to do that with each other. (She embraces him, kisses him …)

LITTLE CHARLES: You’re
breaking our rule

IVY: They’re
on to me.

LITTLE CHARLES: What?

IVY: Not
us, just me. I told them I was seeing someone. I didn’t tell them who. I just
wanted you to know, in case there were questions..

LITTLE CHARLES: All
right … I mentioned New York to Mom. Only, you know, that I was considering a
move

IVY: She
told me

LITTLE CHARLES: She was
typically approving, I bet..

IVY: But
you know what? I think it helps, just letting them know, piece by piece. (He
stares at her.) What? (He stares, smiles.) Charles ..

LITTLE CHARLES: I adore
you.

(Lights crossfade to the dining room. Seated around the table: BARBARA, BILL,
MATTIE FAE, CHARLIE, KAREN and STEVE. JEAN and JOHNNA sit at the kid’s cable.
The men have all removed their suit coats.)

MATTIE FAE: This
food’s going to get cold. BARBARA (Calling out): Mom?! Let’s eat.

CHARLIE: Will
you pass the casserole, please?

MATTIE FAE: My
casserole’s coming

CHARLIE: I’ll
eat some of yours, too-

BILL: Can
I pour anyone some wine?

KAREN: Yes, please.

STEVE: Sure. I’ll have some

(LITTLE CHARLES enters with MATTIE FAE’s
casserole.)

MATTIE FAE: There
he is. I wanted to put you at the kid’s table, but they wouldn’t let me.

LITTLE CHARLES: That
would’ve been okay. Where do you want this?

MATTIE FAE: Anywhere’s fine

(Ad-lib greetings, hugs, handshakes,
KAREN’s introduction of STEVE, etc. IVY slips in and takes her seat. LITTLE
CHARLES drops MATTIE FAE’s casserole. It lands with a sickening
"splat" on the dining room floor.)

LITTLE CHARLES: Oh Jesus!- MATTIE FAE: Goddamn it!- LITTLE CHARLES: Oh Jesus no!- MATTIE FAE: You goofball!

BILL: Whoops BARBARA: That’s too bad- STEVE: O-pah! KAREN: Can it be saved?

(Johnna goes to the
kitchen for paper towels, a wet rag, etc.)

MATTIE FAE: You goddamn clumsy goofball!

LITTLE CHARLES: Mom, I’m so sorry-

CHARLIE: All right, all right, nobody’s hurt

(LITTLE CHARLES helps JOHNNA clean up the mess.)

MATTIE FAE: What
about me? I’m hurt

CHARLIE: You’re
not hurt

LITTLE CHARLES: Mom,
Jesus, I’m sorry-

IVY: It’s
just an accident

MATTIE FAE: That’s
my casserole!

CHARLIE: Let
it go, Mattie Fae

STEVE: It’s
not a party until someone spills something.

CHARLIE: Jean,
you didn’t get any chicken

BARBARA: No, she won’t-

JEAN: I don’t eat meat.

CHARLIE: You
don’t eat meat

STEVE: Good
for you

CHARLIE: "Don’t
eat meat.” Okay. Who wants chicken? Here, Little Charles, get some chicken.

MATTIE FAE: Just
put it on his plate for him or he’s liable to burn the house down

CHARLIE: All
right, Mattie Fae. (VIOLET enters with the framed photograph of her and
BEVERLY.)

VIOLET: Barb
… will you put this-?

BARBARA: Yeah,
sure … (BARBARA takes the photograph, places it on the sideboard.)

MATTIE FAE: That’s
nice.

KAREN: That’s
sweet

STEVE: Very
nice, yes.

IVY: The
table’s lovely

BARBARA: Johnna
did it all.

JEAN: Yayyy, Johnna-

VIOLET: I
see you gentlemen have all stripped down to your shirt fronts. I thought we
were having a funeral dinner, not a cockfight. (An awkward moment. The men
glumly put their suit coats back on. Taking her seat) Someone should probably
say grace. (All look to one another.) Barbara? Will you … ?

BARBARA: No,
I don’t think so. VIOLET Oh now, it’s no big-

BARBARA: Uncle
Charlie should say grace. He’s the patriarch around here now.

CHARLIE: I
am? Oh, I guess I am

VIOLET: By
default

CHARLIE: Okay.
(Clears his throat) Dear Lord …(All bow their heads,
clasp hands.) We ask that you watch over this family in this sad time, O Lord
… that you bless this good woman and keep her in your, in your … grace. (A
cell phone rings, playing the theme from Sanford and Son. STEVE quickly digs
through his pockets, finds the phone, checks the caller ID.)

STEVE: I’m
sorry, I have to take this. (STEVE hustles out to talk
on the phone.)

CHARLIE: We
ask that you watch over Beverly, too, as he, as he … as he, as he, as he
makes his journey. We thank thee, O Lord, that we are able to
join together to pay tribute to this fine man, in his
house, with his beautiful family, his three beautiful daughters. We are truly
blessed in our, our fellowship, our togetherness, our … our fellowship. Thank
thee for the food, O Lord, that we can share this food and replenish our bodies
with … with nourishment. We ask that you help us … get better. Be better.
Be better people. (STEVE reenters, snapping his phone shut.) We recognize, now
more than ever, the power, the, the … joy of family. And we ask that you
bless and watch over this family. Amen

MATTIE FAE: Amen .

STEVE: Amen.
Sorry, folks

BILL: Let’s
eat. (They begin to eat.)

VIOLET: Barbara,
you have any use for that sideboard.

BARBARA: Hm?

VIOLET: That
sideboard there, you have any interest in that?

BARBARA: This?
Well … no. I mean, why?

VIOLET: I’m
getting rid of a lot of this stuff and I thought you
might want that sideboard

BARBARA: No, Mom, I … I wouldn’t have any way to get that to Boulder

KAREN: Really pretty.

VIOLET: Mm.
Maybe Ivy’ll take it

IVY: No,
I have something like that, remember, from the-

BARBARA: What
are you getting rid of?

VIOLET: All
of it, I’m clearing all this stuff out of here. I want to have a brand-new
everything.

BARBARA: I.
I guess I’m just sort of. .. not prepared to talk
about your stuff.

VIOLET: Suit
yourself

STEVE: This
food is just spectacular

KAREN: It’s so good-

LITTLE CHARLES: Yes, it is-

IVY: You
like your food, Mom?

VIOLET: I
haven’t tried much of it, yet

BARBARA: Johnna
cooked this whole meal by herself.

VIOLET: Hm?
What?

BARBARA: I
say Johnna cooked this whole meal by-

VIOLET: ‘Swhat she’s paid for. (A silent moment.) You all did know
she’s getting paid, right?

CHARLIE: Jean,
so I’m curious, when you say you don’t eat meat …

JEAN: Yeah?

CHARLIE: You
mean you don’t eat meat of any kind?

JEAN: Right.

BARBARA: No, she, hm-mm …

CHARLIE: And is that for health
reasons, or … ?

JEAN: When
you eat meat, you ingest an animal’s fear.

VIOLET: Ingest
what? Its fur?

JEAN: Fear

VIOLET: (Snickers)
I thought she said

CHARLIE: Its
fear. How do you do that? You can’t eat fear

JEAN: Sure you can. I mean even if you don’t sort of think of it
spiritually, what happens to you, when you feel afraid? Doesn’t your body
produce all sorts of chemical reactions?

CHARLIE: Does
it?

LITTLE CHARLES: It
does.

IVY: Yes

LITTLE CHARLES: Adrenaline,
and, and-

JEAN: Your
body goes through this whole chemical process when it experiences fear-

LITTLE CHARLES: -yep,
and cortisol-

JEAN: -particularly
like strong mortal fear, you know when you sweat and your heart races-

LITTLE CHARLES: -oh
yeah

CHARLIE: Okay,
sure

JEAN: Do
you think an animal experiences fear?

STEVE: You
bet it does

JEAN: So when you eat an animal, you’re eating all that fear it
felt when it was slaughtered to make food

CHARLIE: Wow

STEVE: Right,
right, I used to work in a processing factory and there’s a lot of fear flying
around that place-

CHARLIE: God,
you mean I’ve been eating fear, what, three times a day for sixty years?

MATTIE FAE: This
one won’t have a meal unless there’s meat in it

CHARLIE: I
guess it was the way I was raised, but it just doesn’t seem like a legitimate
meal unless it has some meat somewhere-

MATTIE FAE: If
I make a pasta dish of some kind, he’ll just be like, "Okay, that was good
for an appetizer, now where’s the meat?"

VIOLET:
"Where’s the meat?" Isn’t that some TV commercial, the old lady says,
"Where’s the meat?"

KAREN: "Beef"
"Where’s the beef?"

VIOLET: (Screeching)"Where’s
the meat?!" "Where’s the meat?!" "Where’s the meat?!"
(Everyone freezes, a little stunned.)

CHARLIE: I
sure thought the services were lovely. K

AREN: Yes,
weren’t they?-

STEVE: Preacher
did a fine job

VIOLET: (Sticking
her hand out, flat, waggling it back and forth)Ehhhhh! I give it a … (Repeats gesture) Ehhhhh!

KAREN: Really?
I thought it was-

BARBARA: Great,
now we get some dramatic criticism-

VIOLET: I
would’ve preferred an open casket

BARBARA: That
just wasn’t possible, Mom

VIOLET: That
today’s the send-off Bev should’ve got if he died around 1974. Lots of talk
about poetry, teaching. Well, he hadn’t written any poetry to speak of since
’65 and he never liked teaching worth a damn. Nobody talked about the good
stuff. Man was a world-class alcoholic, more’n fifty
years. Nobody told the story about that night he got wrangled into giving a
talk at a TV alumni dinner … (Laughs) Drank a whole bottle of rum, Ron Bocoy White Rum-I don’t know why I remember that-and got up
to give this talk … and he fouled himself Comes back to our table with this
huge-

BARBARA: Yeah,
I can’t imagine why no one told that story

VIOLET: He
didn’t get invited back to any more alumni dinners, I’ll tell you that! (She
cracks up.)

STEVE: You
know, I don’t know much about poetry, but I thought his poems were
extraordinary. (To BILL) And your reading was very
fine

BILL: Thank
you

VIOLET: (To
STEVE) Who are you?

KAREN: Mom,
this is my fiance, Steve, I introduced you at the
church.

STEVE: Steve
Heidebrecht

VIOLET: Hide-the-what?

STEVE: Heidebrecht

VIOLET: Hide-a-burrr … German, you’re a German.

STEVE: Well,
German-Irish, really, I-

VIOLET: That’s
peculiar, Karen, to bring a date to your father’s funeral. I know the poetry
was good, but I wouldn’t have really considered it date material-

BARBARA: Jesus

KAREN: He’s
not a date, he’s my fiance. We’re getting married on
New Year’s.

CHARLIE: Man,
these potatoes are-

KAREN: In
Miami, I hope you can make it.

VIOLET: I
don’t really see that happening, do you?

KAREN: I-

VIOLET: Steve.
That right? Steve?

STEVE: Yes,
ma’am

VIOLET: You
ever been married before?

KAREN: That’s
personal

STEVE: I
don’t mind. Yes, ma’am, I have.

VIOLET: More’n once?

STEVE: Three
times, actually, three times before this-

VIOLET: You
should pretty much have it down by now, then.

STEVE: (Laughs)Right,
right-

VIOLET: (To
MATTIE FAE)I had that one pegged, didn’t I? I mean,
look at him, you can tell he’s been married-

KAREN: I
took Steve out to show him the old fort and it’s gone!

IVY: That’s
been gone for years

KAREN: That
made me so sad!

BILL: What
is this now?

KAREN: Our
old fort, where we used to play Cowboys and Indians.

IVY: Daddy
said rats were getting in there-

VIOLET: Karen!
Shame on you!

KAREN: Hm?

VIOLET: Don’t
you know not to say "Cowboys and Indians"?
You played Cowboys and Native Americans. Right, Barb?

BARBARA: What’d
you take?

VIOLET: Hm?

BARBARA: What
did you take? What pills did you take?

VIOLET: Lemme
alone-(CHARLIE drops his head, appears distressed.)

CHARLIE: Uh-oh ..–

MATTI FAE: What
is it?

CHARLIE: UH-0H!

MATTIE FAE: What’s
the matter? (Rising panic …)

LITTLE CHARLES: Dad-?

IVY: You okay, Uncle—?

CHARLIE: I
just got a big bite of fear! (Everyone laughs.) I’m shakin‘
in my boots!

(Laughter, ad-libs, etc. CHARLIE digs into his plate ravenously.)

Fear never tasted so good. (He winks at JEAN.)

STEVE: (Laughing)Right,
right, it’s pretty good once you get used to the taste.

BARBARA: (Teasing)
I catch her eating a cheeseburger every now and again.

JEAN: I
do not!

BARBARA: Double
cheeseburger with bacon, extra fear.

JEAN: Mom,
you are such a liar! (More laughter.)

VIOLET: (Staring
intensely at JEAN) Y’know … if I ever called my mom
a liar? She would’ve knocked my goddamn head off my shoulders. (Silence.) Bill,
I see you’ve gone through much of Beverly’s office

BILL: Not
all of it, but-

VIOLET: Find
any hidden treasure?

BILL: Not
exactly, but it appears he was working on some new poetry.

KAREN: Really?

BILL: I
found a couple of notebooks that had-

VIOLET: You
girls know there’s a will

BARBARA: Mom ..

VIOLET: We
took care of that some time back, but

BARBARA: Mom,
really, we don’t want to talk about this now-

VIOLET: I
want to talk about it. What about what I want to talk about, that count for
anything?

BARBARA: It’s
just-

VIOLET: Bev
made some good investments if you can believe it, and we had things covered for
you girls, but he and I talked it over after some years passed and decided to
change things, leave everything to me. We never got around to taking care of it
legally, but you should know he meant to leave everything to me. Leave the
money to me

BARBARA: Okay

VIOLET: Okay?
(Checks in with IVY, KAREN) Okay?

IVY: Okay

VIOLET: Karen?
Okay?

(Uncertain, KAREN looks to STEVE, then BARBARA.)

BARBARA: Okay

KAREN: Okay

VIOLET: Okay.
But now some of this furniture, some of this old shit you can just have. I
don’t want it, got no use for it. Maybe I should have an auction

MATTIE FAE: Sure,
an auction’s a fine idea-

VIOLET: Some
things, though, like the silver, that’s worth a pretty penny. But if you like
I’ll sell it to you, cheaper’n I might get in an
auction

BARBARA: Or
you might never get around to the auction and then we can just have it for free
after you die

IVY: Barbara…
(Pause. VIOLET coolly studies BARBARA.)

VIOLET: You
might at that

LITTLE CHARLES: Excuse
me, Bill? I’m wondering, this writing you found, these poems-?

VIOLET: Where
are you living now, Bill? You want this old sideboard?

BILL: I
beg your pardon

VIOLET: You
and Barbara are separated, right? Or you divorced already? (Another silence.)

BILL: We’re
separated

VIOLET: (To
BARBARA) Thought you could slip that one by me, didn’t you?

BARBARA: What
is the matter with you?

VIOLET: Nobody
slips anything by me. I know what’s what. Your father thought he’s slipping one
by me, right? No way. I’m sorry you two’re having
trouble … maybe you can work it out. Bev’n
I separated a couple times, ‘course, though we didn’t call it that-

BARBARA: Please,
help us to benefit from an illustration of your storybook marriage-

VIOLET: Truth
is, sweetheart, you can’t compete with a younger woman, there’s no way to
compete. One of those unfair things in life. Is there a younger woman involved?

BARBARA: You’ve
already said enough on this subject, I think-

BILL: Yes.
There’s a younger woman

VIOLET: Ah
… y’see? Odds’re against
you there, babe

IVY: Mom
believes women don’t grow more attractive with age.

KAREN: Oh,
I disagree, I-

VIOLET: I
didn’t say they "don’t grow more attractive," I said they get ugly.
And it’s not really a matter of opinion, Karen dear. You’ve only just started
to prove it yourself.

CHARLIE: You’re
in rare form today, Vi

VIOLET: The
day calls for it, doesn’t it? What form would you have me in?

CHARLIE: I
just don’t understand why you’re so adversarial

VIOLET: I’m
just truth-telling. (Cutting her eyes to BARBARA) Some people get antagonized
by the truth .

CHARLIE: Everyone
here loves you, dear

VIOLET: You
think you can shame me, Charlie? Blow it out your ass

BARBARA: Three
days ago … I had to identify my father’s corpse. And now I sit here and
listen to you viciously attack each and every member
of this family (VIOLET rises, her voice booming.)

VIOLET: "Attack
my family"?! You ever been attacked in your sweet
spoiled life?! Tell her ’bout attacks, Mattie
Fae, tell her what an attack looks like!

MATTIE FAE: Vi,
please—

IVY: Settle
down, Mom-

VIOLET: Stop
telling me to settle down, goddamn it! I’m not a goddamn invalid! I don’t need
to be abided, do I?! Am I already passed over?!

MATTIE FAE: Honey-

VIOLET: (Points
to MATTIE FAE) This woman came to my rescue when one of my dear mother’s many
gentlemen friends was attacking me, with a claw hammer! This woman has dents in
her skull from hammer blows! You think you been attacked?! What do you know
about life on these Plains? What do you know about hard times?

BARBARA: I
know you had a rotten childhood, Mom. Who didn’t?

VIOLET: You
DON’T know! You do NOT know! None of you know, ‘cept
this woman right here and that man we buried today! Sweet girl, sweet Barbara,
my heart breaks for every time you ever felt pain. I wish I coulda
shielded you from it. But if you think for a solitary second you can fathom the
pain that man endured in his natural life, you got another thing coming. Do you
know where your father lived from age four till about ten? Do you? (No one
responds.) Do you?!

BARBARA: No

IVY: No

VIOLET: In
a Pontiac sedan. With his mother, his father, in a fucking car! Now what else
do you want to say about your rotten childhood? That’s the crux of the biscuit:
we lived too hard, then rose too high. We sacrificed everything and we did it
all for you. Your father and I were the first in our families to finish high
school and he wound up an award-winning poet. You girls, given a college
education, taken for granted no doubt, and where’d you wind up? (Jabs a finger
at KAREN) Whadda you do? (Jabs a finger at IVY) Whadda you do? (Jabs a finger at BARBARA) Who’re you?
Jesus, you worked as hard as us, you’d all be president. You never had real problems so you got to make all your problems yourselves

BARBARA: Why
are you screaming at us?

VIOLET: Just
time we had some truth’s told ’round here’s all. Damn
fine day, tell the truth

CHARLIE: Well,
the truth is … I’m getting full.

STEVE: Amen

JOHNNA: There’s
dessert, too

KAREN: I
saw her making those pies. They looked so good. (Little Charles suddenly
stands.)

LITTLE CHARLES: I have
a truth to tell.

VIOLET: It
speaks. (Lime Charles looks to IVY.)

IVY: (Softly
pleading) Nooo, nooo–

CHARLIE: What
is it, son?

LITTLE CHARLES: I have
a truth. (Silence.)

LATTIE FAE: Little
Charles … ?

LITTLE CHARLES: I ..

IVY: (Almost
to herself) Charles, not like this, please ..

LITTLE CHARLES: The
truth is, I … I forgot to set the clock. This morning. The power didn’t go out, I just forgot to
set the clock. Sorry, Mom. I’m sorry, everyone. Excuse me … I I

(He leaves the dining room, exits the house…pauses on the porch,
exits.)

VIOLET: Scintillating.
(CHARLIE turns to MATTIE FAE, confused.)

MATTIE FAE: I
gave up a long time ago…Little Charles is your project

IVY (Near tears): Charles.
His name is Charles. (The family eats in silence. VIOLET pats IVY’s wrists.)

VIOLET: Poor
Ivy. Poor thing

IVY: Please,
Mom…

VIOLET: Poor
baby.

IVY: Please ..

VIOLET: She’s
always had a feeling for the underdog.

IVY: Don’t
be mean to me right now, okay?

VIOLET: Everyone’s
got this idea I’m mean, all of a sudden.

IVY: Please,
Momma

VIOLET: I
told you, I’m just telling the-

BARBARA: You’re
a drug addict

VIOLET: That
is the truth! That’s what I’m getting at! I, everybody listen
… I am a drug addict. I am addicted to drugs, pills, ‘specially downers.
(Pulls a bottle of pills from her pocket, holds them up) Y’see
these little blue babies? These are my best fucking friends
and they never let me down. Try to get ‘em away from
me and I’ll eat you alive

BARBARA: Gimme
those goddamn pills-

VIOLET: I’ll
eat you alive, girl! (BARBARA lunges at the bottle of pills. She and VIOLET
wrestle with it. Bill and IVY try to restrain BARBARA. MATTIE FAE tries to
restrain VIOLET. Others rise, ad-lib.)

STEVE: Holy
shit-

IVY: Barbara,
stop it!-

CHARLIE: Hey
now, c’mon!-

KAREN: Oh
God- (VIOLET wins, wrests the pills away from BARBARA. BILL pulls BARBARA back
into her seat. VIOLET shakes the pill bottle, taunting BARBARA. BARBARA snaps,
screams, lunges again, grabs VIOLET by the hair, pulls her up, toppling chairs.
They crash through the house, pursued by the family. Pandemonium. Screaming.
BARBARA strangles VIOLET. With great effort, BILL and CHARLIE pry the two women
apart. MATTIE FAE and JOHNNA rush to VIOLET, tend to her.)

VIOLET (Crying): Goddamn
you … goddamn you, Barb…

BARBARA: SHUT
UP! (To the others) Okay. Pill raid. Johnna, help me in the kitchen. Bill, take
Ivy and Jean upstairs. (To IVY) You remember how to do this, right?

IVY: Yeah ..

BARBARA: (To
JEAN) Everything. Go through everything, every counter, every drawer, every
shoe box. Nothing’s too personal. Anything even looks suspicious, throw it in a
box and we can sort it out later. You understand?

CHARLIE: What
should we do?

BARBARA: Get
Mom some black coffee and a wet towel and listen to her bullshit. Karen, call
Dr. Burke

KAREN: What
do you want me to say?

BARBARA: Tell
him we got a sick woman here

VIOLET: You
can’t do this! This is my house! This is my house!

BARBARA: You
don’t get it, do you?

(With a burst of adrenaline, she strides to VIOLET, towers over her)

I’M RUNNING THINGS NOW!

(Blackout.)

End of Act Two

 

ACT THREE

Scene I

 

The window shades have all been removed. Nighttime is now free
to encroach

At rise: the
three sisters, in the study. They share a bottle of whiskey. An inflatable
mattress, covered with a thin sheet, now lies on the study floor. Elsewhere in
the house: a game of spades in the
dining room-CHARLIE and MATTIE FAE versus JEAN and STEVE. LITTLE CHARLES sits
by himself in the living room, watching TV. BILL sorts through paperwork on the
porch. VIOLET, pensive, wearing a robe, her hair wrapped in a towel, sits at
the window on the second-floor landing

KAREN: The
doctor really thinks she needs to go to an institution?
Does she need to go? Did he examine her?

BARBARA: Dr.
Burke says she may be brain-damaged. "Slightly brain-damaged." I told him he was "slightly
incompetent" and I hoped some
day soon he’d be "slightly dead." He claims not to know she
was taking so much. That’s why he’s eager to put her away, he’s afraid of a
malpractice suit. I told him I was considering it. Irresponsible shithead-

KAREN: Why
did he write so many prescriptions? Doesn’t he know-?

BARBARA: It’s
not just him; she’s got a doctor in every port-

IVY: Here’s
how she does it: she sees a doctor for back spasms and gets a prescription. Day
or two later she goes back, says she lost her pills
and he writes her another one. Then next week she pulls a muscle, more pills,
then the dosage is wrong, more pills, over and over, until she makes one too
many trips and he says I’m not prescribing anymore. And she pulls a sheaf of
prescription receipts out of her purse and says, "I’ll go to the AMA and
have your ass in court for over-prescribing me." She genuinely threatens
these men and they give in to her

BARBARA: (To
IVY) You knew this was going on again? (IVY shrugs.) Different tactic today,
just at her wounded best, this wilting hothouse flower. Which made me look like
Bette Davis. I tried to goad her into it, you know, "C’mon, Mom, give him
your speech about the Greatest Generation. Tell him about the claw
hammer." I was like that guy in the cartoon with the frog that only sings
for him

IVY: It
wouldn’t have done any good, Dr. Burke’s part of the same generation.

BARBARA: "Greatest
Generation," my ass. Are they really considering all the generations?
Maybe there are some generations from the Iron Age that could compete. And what
makes them so great anyway? Because they were poor and hated Nazis? Who doesn’t
fucking hate Nazis?! You remember when we checked her in the psych ward, that
stunt she pulled?

IVY: Which
time?

KAREN: I
wasn’t there

BARBARA: Big
speech, she’s getting clean, this sacrifice she’s
making for her family, and-

IVY: Right,
she’s let her family down but now she wants to prove she’s a good family member

BARBARA: She
smuggled Darvocet into the psych ward … in her vagina. There’s your Greatest
Generation for you. She made this speech to us while she was clenching a bottle
of pills in her cooch, for God’s sake

KAREN: God,
I’ve never heard that story.

IVY: Did
you just say "cooch"?

BARBARA: The
phrase "Mom’s pussy" seems a bit gauche.

IVY: You’re
a little more comfortable with "cooch," are you?

BARBARA: What
word should I use to describe our mother’s vagina?

IVY: I
don’t know, but-

BARBARA: "Mom’s
beaver"? "Mother’s box"?

IVY: Oh
God-

KAREN: Barbara!
(Laughter, finally dying out.) I’m sorry about you and Bill.

IVY: Me,
too, Barb

BARBARA: If
I had my way, you never would’ve known.

KAREN: Do
you think it’s a temporary thing, or… ?

BARBARA: Who
knows? We’ve been married long time

KAREN: That’s
one thing about Mom and Dad. You have to tip your cap
to anyone who can stay married that long

IVY: Karen.
He killed himself

KAREN: Yeah,
but still

BARBARA: Is
there something going on between you and Little Charles?

IVY: I
don’t know that I’m comfortable talking about that

BARBARA: Because
you know he is our first cousin.

IVY: Give
me a break

KAREN: You
know you shouldn’t consider children

IVY: I’m
almost forty-five, Karen, I put those thoughts behind me a long time ago.
Anyway, I had a hysterectomy year before last

KAREN: Why?

IVY: Cervical
cancer.

KAREN: I
didn’t know that.

BARBARA: Neither
did I

IVY: I
didn’t tell anyone except Charles. That’s where it started between him and me.

BARBARA: Why
not? Why wouldn’t you tell anyone?

IVY: And
hear those comments from Mom for the rest of my life? She doesn’t need any more
excuses to treat me like some damaged thing

BARBARA: You
might have told us

IVY: You
weren’t going to tell us about you and Bill.

BARBARA: That’s
different

IVY: Why?
Because it’s you, and not me?

BARBARA: No,
because divorce is an embarrassing public admission of defeat. Cancer’s fucking
cancer, you can’t help that. We’re your sisters. We might’ve given you some
comfort

IVY: I
just don’t feel that connection very keenly.

KAREN: I
feel very connected, to both of you

IVY (Amused): We
never see you, you’re never around, you haven’t been around for-

KAREN: But
I still feel that connection!

IVY: You
think if you tether yourself to this place in mind only, you don’t need to actually appear

KAREN: You
know me that well

IVY: No,
and that’s my point. I can’t perpetuate these myths of family or sisterhood
anymore. We’re all just people, some of us accidentally connected by genetics,
a random selection of cells. Nothing more

BARBARA: When
did you get so cynical?

IVY: That’s
funny coming from you

BARBARA: Bitter,
sure, but “random selection of cells-“?

IVY: Maybe
my cynicism flowered with the realization that the obligation of caring for our
parents was mine alone

BARBARA: Don’t
give me that. I participated in every goddamn-

IVY: Until
you had enough and got out, you and Karen

BARBARA: I
had my own family to think about

IVY: That’s
a cheap excuse. As if by having a child you were alleviated of all
responsibility.

BARBARA: So
now I’m being criticized for procreating

IVY: I’m
not criticizing. Do what you want. You did, Karen did.

BARBARA: And
if you didn’t, that’s not my fault

IVY: That’s
right, so don’t lay this sister thing on me now, all right? I don’t buy it. I
haven’t bought it for a long time. When I leave here and leave for good I won’t feel any more guilty than you two did

KAREN: Who
says we don’t?

BARBARA: Are
you leaving here?

IVY: Charles
and I are going to New York. (BARBARA bursts out laughing.)

BARBARA: What
the hell are you going to do in New York?

IVY: We
have plans.

BARBARA: Like
what?

IVY: None
of your business

BARBARA: You
can’t just go to New York

IVY: This
isn’t whimsy. This isn’t fleeting. This is unlike anything I’ve ever felt, for
anybody. Charles and I have something rare, and extraordinary, something very
few people ever have

KAREN: Which
is what?

IVY: Understanding

BARBARA: What
about Mom?

IVY: What
about her?

BARBARA: You
feel comfortable leaving Mom here?

IVY: Do
you? (No response.) You think she was difficult while Dad was alive? Think
about what it’s going to be like now. You can’t imagine the cumulative effect,
after a month, after a year, after many years. You can’t imagine. And even if
you could, you can only imagine for yourself, for yourself, the favorite

BARBARA: Christ,
Mom pulled that on me the other day about Dad, that I was his favorite

IVY: Well
… that’s not true. You weren’t his favorite. I was. You’re Mom’s favorite.

BARBARA: What?

KAREN: Thanks,
Ivy

IVY: You
don’t think so? Good God, Barb, I’ve lived my life by that standard.

BARBARA: She
said Dad was heartbroken when we moved to Boulder-

IVY: Mom
was heartbroken, not Dad. She was convinced you left to get away from her

KAREN: If
you were Daddy’s favorite, you must take his suicide kind of personally.

IVY: Daddy
killed himself for his own reasons

BARBARA: And
what were those reasons?

IVY: I
won’t presume

BARBARA: Aren’t
you angry with him?

IVY: No.
He’s accountable to no one but himself. If he’s better
off now, and I don’t doubt he is, who are we to begrudge him that?

BARBARA: His
daughters.

KAREN: Yeah-

BARBARA: And
I’m fucking furious. The selfish son-of-a-bitch, his silence, his melancholy
… he could have, for me, for us, for all of us, he could have helped us,
included us, talked to us

IVY: You
might not have liked what you heard. What if the truth of the matter is that
Beverly Weston never liked you? That he never liked any of us, never had any
special feeling of any kind for his children?

BARBARA: You
know that’s not true.

IVY: Do
I? How? Do you?

KAREN: You
said you were his favorite

IVY: Only
because he recognized a kindred spirit

BARBARA: Mm,
sorry, but your little theory, your "accidental genetics," that
doesn’t fly, not with me. I believe he had a responsibility to something
greater than himself; we all do

IVY: Good
luck with that

KAREN: I
just can’t believe your worldview is that dark.

IVY: You
live in Florida

BARBARA: When
are you and Little Charles leaving?

IVY: Weeks,
if not days. And his name is Charles

BARBARA: Are
you telling Mom?

IVY: I’m
trying to figure that out

BARBARA: What
about your job, your house?

IVY: I’ve
been taking care of myself a lot longer than you’ve been in charge. Karen,
you’re going back to Miami, right?

KAREN: Yes.
(VIOLET descends the stairs.)

IVY: There
you go, Barb. You want to know what we’re going to do about Mom? Karen and I
are leaving. You want to stay and deal with her, that’s your decision; if you
don’t like it, that’s your prerogative. But nobody gets to point a finger at
me. Nobody. (Shaky but mainly lucid, VIOLET enters, knocking softly)

VIOLET: Hello?
Am I interrupting anything? (Ad-libs: "Not at all," "Come
in," etc.)

BARBARA: You
had a bath?

VIOLET: Mm-hm

BARBARA: You
need something to eat, or drink?

VIOLET: No

BARBARA: You
want some more coffee?

VIOLET: No,
honey, I’m fine. (VIOLET sits, exhales. KAREN picks up a hand cream from the
bedside table, rubs it on her hands.) You girls all together in this house.
Just hearing your voices outside the door gives me a warm feeling: These walls
must’ve heard a lot of secrets

KAREN: I
get embarrassed just thinking about it

VIOLET: Oh
… nothing to be embarrassed about. Secret crushes, secret schemes …
province of teenage girls. I can’t imagine anything more delicate, or
bittersweet. Some part of you girls I just always identified with . . . no
matter how old you get, a woman’s hard-pressed to
throw off that part of herself. (To KAREN, regarding the hand cream) That
smells good

KAREN: Doesn’t
it? It’s apple. You want some?

VIOLET: Yes,
please. (KAREN passes the hand cream to VIOLET.) I ever tell you the story of Raymond Qualls? Not much story to it. Boy I had a crush on
when I was thirteen or so. Real rough-looking boy, beat-up Levis, messy hair.
Terrible underbite. But he had these beautiful cowboy boots, shiny chocolate
leather. He was so proud of those boots, you could tell, the way he’d strut
around, all arms and elbows, puffed-up and cocksure. I decided I needed to get
a girly pair of those same boots and I knew he’d ask
me to go steady, convinced myself of it. He’d see me in those boots and say,
"Now there’s the gal for me." Found the boots in a window downtown
and just went crazy: I’d stay up late in bed, praying for those boots,
rehearsing the conversation I was going to have with Raymond when he saw me in
my boots. Must’ve asked my momma a hundred times if I could get those boots.
"What do you want for Christmas, Vi?" "Momma, I’ll give all of
it up just for those boots." Bargaining, you know? She started dropping
hints about a package under the tree she had wrapped up, about the size of a
boot box, real nice wrapping paper. "Now, Vi, don’t you cheat and look in
there before Christmas morning." Little smile on her face. Christmas
morning, I was up like a shot, boy, under the tree, tearing open that box.
There was a pair of boots, all right … men’s work boots, holes in the toes,
chewed-up laces, caked in mud and dog shit. Lord, my momma laughed for days.
(Silence.)

BARBARA: Please
don’t tell me that’s the end of that story.

VIOLET: Oh,
no. That’s the end

KAREN: You
never got the boots?

VIOLET: No,
huh-uh

BARBARA: Okay,
well, that’s the worst story I ever heard. That makes me wish for a
heartwarming claw hammer story. (Elsewhere in the house: Jean and STEVE win the card game with an exclamation of
triumph. The players disperse.)

VIOLET: No,
no. My momma was a nasty, mean old lady. I suppose that’s where I get it from

(An awkward moment.)

KAREN: You’re
not nasty-mean. You’re our mother and we love you.

VIOLET: Thank
you, sweetheart. (KAREN kisses VIOLET’s cheek.)

BARBARA: Hey
you all, I need to talk to Mom for a minute

KAREN: Sure.
(IVY and KAREN exit.)

BARBARA: How’s
your head?

VIOLET: I’m
fine, Barb. Don’t worry about that.

BARBARA: I’m
sorry

VIOLET: Please,
honey-

BARBARA: No,
it’s important that I say this. I lost my temper and went too far.

VIOLET: Barbara.
The day, the funeral … the pills. I was spoiling for a fight
and you gave it to me

BARBARA: So
… truce? VIOLET (Laughs): Truce

BARBARA: What
do you want to do?

VIOLET: How
do you mean?

BARBARA: Don’t
you think you should consider a rehab center, or-?

VIOLET: Oh,
no. I can’t go through that. No, I can do this. I’m pretty sure I can.

BARBARA: Really?

VIOLET: Yes.
Well, look, you got rid of my pills, right?

BARBARA: All
we could find

VIOLET: I
don’t have that many hiding places.

BARBARA: Mom,
now, come on

VIOLET: You
wanna search me?

BARBARA: Uh
… no

VIOLET: If
the pills are gone, I’ll be fine. Just take me a few days to get my feet under
me.

BARBARA: I
can’t imagine what all this must be like for you right now. I just want you to
know, you’re not alone in this. (No response.) How can I help?

VIOLET: I
don’t need help.

BARBARA: I
want to help.

VIOLET: I
don’t need your help.

BARBARA: Mom

VIOLET: I
don’t need your help. I’ve gotten myself through some … (Stops, collects
herself) I know how this goes: once all
the talking’s through, people go back to their own nonsense. I know that. So
don’t you worry about me. I’ll manage. I get by (Lights crossfade to the living
room where LITTLE CHARLES watches TV. IVY enters the room guardedly.)

IVY: Is
the coast clear?

LITTLE CHARLES: Never
very.

IVY: What
are you watching?

LITTLE CHARLES: Television.

IVY: Can
I watch it with you?

LITTLE CHARLES: I wish
you would. (She sits beside him on the couch. They watch TV.) I almost blew it,
didn’t I?

IVY: Yeah

LITTLE CHARLES: Are you
mad at me?

IVY: Nope.
(They hold hands.)

LITTLE CHARLES: I was
trying to be brave.

IVY: I
know

LITTLE CHARLES: I just
… I want everyone to know that I got what I always wanted. And that means …
I’m not a loser

IVY: Hey.
Hey. (He turns to look at her.) You’re my hero. (He considers this … then
beams a huge smile. He goes to the electric piano, turns it on.)

LITTLE CHARLES: Come
here. You can help me push the pedals. (She sits beside him on the piano
bench.) I wrote this for you. (He plays, and quietly
sings a gentle but quirky love song. Midway through, MATTIE FAE enters from the
kitchen, breaking the spell, CHARLIE in tow.)

MATTIE FAE: Liberace.
Get yourself together, we’re heading back

IVY: Are you all staying at my place?

LITTLE CHARLES: Okay …

MATTIE FAE: No,
we have to get home and take care of those damn dogs.

IVY: You
know you’re welcome

MATTIE FAE (To CHARLIE): Oh, look, honey, Little Charles has got the TV on

CHARLIE: Thanks, Ivy

LITTLE CHARLES: No, I
was just

MATTIE FAE: This
one watches so much television, it’s rotted his brain.

IVY: (To
IVY)I’m sure that’s not true

MATTIE FAE: (To
LITTLE CHARLES)What was it I caught you watching the
other day?

LITTLE CHARLES: I don’t remember.

CHARLIE: Mattie Fae-

MATTIE FAE: You
do so remember, some dumb game show about people swapping wives

LITTLE CHARLES: I don’t
remember.

MATTIE FAE: You
don’t remember

CHARLIE: C’mon,
Mattie Fae-

MATTIE FAE: Too
bad there isn’t a job where they pay you to sit around watching television.

CHARLIE: Mattie
Fae, it’s been a long day

MATTIE FAE: I
suppose you wouldn’t like TV then, not if watching it constituted getting a
job.

CHARLIE: Mattie
Fae –

MATTIE FAE: (To
IVY)Did I tell you he got fired from a shoe store?

CHARLIE: Mattie
Fae, we’re gonna go get in the car right now and go
home and if you say one more mean thing to that boy
I’m going to kick your fat Irish ass onto the highway. You hear me?

(She wheels on CHARLIE, stung.)

MATTIE FAE: What
the hell did you say?

CHARLIE: You
kids go outside. (IVY and LITTLE CHARLES exit the house. BARBARA, who had
started to enter during the previous exchange, stops short, unseen by CHARLIE
or MATTIE FAE.) I don’t understand this meanness. I look at you and your sister
and the way you talk to people and I don’t understand
it. I just can’t understand why folks can’t be respectful of one another. I
don’t think there’s any excuse for it. My family didn’t treat each other that
way

MATTIE FAE: Well
maybe that’s because your family is a-

CHARLIE: You
had better not say anything about my family right now. I mean it. We buried a
man today I loved very much. And whatever faults he may have had, he was a
good, kind, decent person. And to hear you tear into your own son on a day like
today dishonors Beverly’s memory. We’ve been married for thirty-eight years. I
wouldn’t trade them for anything. But if you can’t find a generous place in
your heart for your own son, we’re not going to make it to thirty-nine. (He
leaves. MATTIE FAE becomes aware of BARBARA.)

BARBARA: I’m
sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I froze.

MATTIE FAE: That’s.
Do you have a cigarette, hon?

BARBARA: No,
I quit years ago

MATTIE FAE: So did I. It just sounded good to me. Barbara. I thought
today at dinner … at that horrible dinner, it seemed like
..

BARBARA: What?

MATTIE FAE: It
seemed as if something might be going all between Ivy and Little Charles. Do
you know if that’s true?

BARBARA: Oh,
this is … I’m not sure what to say here, it’s-

MATTIE FAE: Look,
just. Can you tell me if that’s true

BARBARA: Yes.
It’s true

MATTIE FAE: Okay.
That can’t happen

BARBARA: This
is going to be difficult to explain. Um. You know, Ivy and Little Charles have
always marched to their own-and obviously, I would expect this to be toughest
on you-

MATTIE FAE: Barb—?

BARBARA: I
think they’re very much in love. Or at least they think they are. What’s the
difference, right? And I’m sure they must be terrified of you and Mom-

MATTIE FAE: Honey-_

BARBARA: I
realize it’s pretty unorthodox for cousins to get
together, at least these days

MATTIE FAE: They’re
not cousins

BARBARA: -but
believe it or not, it’s not as uncommon as you might-

MATTIE FAE: Barbara.
Listen to me. They’re not cousins

BARBARA: Beg
pardon?

MATTIE FAE: Little
Charles is not your cousin. He’s your brother. He’s your blood brother. He is
not your cousin. He is your blood brother. Half-brother. He’s your father’s
child. Which means that he is Ivy’s brother. Do you see? Little Charles and Ivy
are brother and sister

BARBARA: No,
that’s not-no

MATTIE FAE: Listen-(KAREN and STEVE enter.)

BARBARA: No.
Go back

KAREN: We’re
just going to—

BARBARA: Go
back into the kitchen. Now! Just … everyone stay in
the kitchen! (KAREN and STEVE retreat to the kitchen.) No, that’s wrong. You.
Okay, well this may be-are you sure?

MATTIE FAE: Yes

BARBARA: You
and Dad.

MATTIE FAE: Yes

BARBARA: Who
knows this?

MATTIE FAE: I
do. And you do

BARBARA: Uncle
Charlie doesn’t suspect.

MATTIE FAE: We’ve
never discussed it

BARBARA: What?!

MATTIE FAE: We’ve
never discussed it. Okay?

BARBARA: Did
Dad know? (MATTIE FAE nods.)

MATTIE FAE: Y’know, I’m not proud of this

BARBARA: Really.
You people amaze me. What, were you drunk? Was this just some-?

MATTIE FAE: I
wasn’t drunk, no. Maybe it’s hard for you to believe, looking at me, knowing me
the way you do, all these years. I know to you, I’m
just your old fat Aunt Mattie Fae. But I’m· more than that, sweetheart . . .
there’s more to me than that.

Charlie’s right, of course. As usual. I don’t know why Little Charles is such a
disappointment to me. Maybe he … well, I don’t know why. I guess I’m
disappointed for him, more than anything.

I made a mistake, a long time ago. Well, okay. Fair enough. I’ve paid for it.
But the mistake ends here

BARBARA: If
Ivy found out about this, it would destroy her

MATTIE FAE: I’m
sure as hell not gonna tell her. You have to find a way to stop it. You have.to put a stop to it

BARBARA: Why
me?

MATTIE FAE: You
said you were running things

 

Scene 2

Giggling from the kitchen. JEAN and STEVE
quietly scamper from the kitchen into the dining room, sharing a joint. She
wears a knee-length T-shirt and white socks; he wears sweatpants and a
sleeveless T-shirt

The rest of the house is sleeping. KAREN
sleeps in the living room on the unfolded hide-a-bed. BILL sleeps on the
mattress in the study

STEVE: Shhh … (JEAN snort-laughs.) You’re gonna
get me busted, you.

JEAN: I
thought you weren’t doing anything wrong

STEVE: We’re
not, but some folks may not be crazy about me smoking pot with a girl born
during the Clinton administration

JEAN: First
Bush

STEVE: Great.
Stop talking about your bush, all right? You’re gonna
get me hot and bothered

JEAN: (Laughing)You
are sick

STEVE: -and
I won’t be able to control myself.

JEAN: God,
you weren’t kidding, this stuff is Strong.

STEVE: Florida,
baby. Number one industry

JEAN: Who
cares?

STEVE: Number
one, by far. You want a shotgun?

JEAN: Huh?

STEVE: You
don’t know what a shotgun is?

JEAN: I
know what a shotgun is

STEVE: Not
that kind of shotgun-here. Just put your lips right next to mine and you inhale
while I exhale

JEAN: Okay.
(He puts the joint in his mouth, lit end first. Their lips nearly touch as he blows
marijuana smoke into her mouth in a steady stream. She nearly chokes.)

STEVE: Hold
it. Don’t let it out. (She finally gasps, exhales, coughs.)

JEAN: Whoa

STEVE: That’s
a kick, huh?

JEAN: Whoa,
shit, man

STEVE: (Laughs)
That’s what I’m talkin‘ about

JEAN: Whoa,
Jesus-(She takes an off-balance step, sways. He
catches her, holds her.) STEVE; Careful, now

JEAN: Oh,
man, what a head rush

STEVE: You okay? You’re not passing out on me, are you?

JEAN: No,
I’m cool. Oh God … (Coughs deeply) I really feel that in my chest. (He
reaches for her breasts.)

STEVE: Here,
let me feel. (Unperturbed, she pushes him away.)

JEAN: You’re
just an old perv

STEVE: No
shit. Christ, you got a great set. How old are you?

JEAN: I’m
fifteen, perv

STEVE: Show’em to me.

JEAN: No,
perv

STEVE: Shhh. Yeah, show ‘em to me. I
won’t look

JEAN: If
you won’t look, there’s no point in showing them to you.

STEVE: Okay,
okay, I’ll look then

JEAN: (Dumb
guy voice)"Lemme look at your tits, little girl-"

STEVE: C‘,mon, we’re partners!

JEAN: No!

STEVE: Aren’t
we amazing card partners?

JEAN: Forget
it!

STEVE: I’ll
show you mine if you show me yours.

JEAN: I
don’t want to see yours

STEVE: You
ever seen one?

JEAN: Yes

STEVE: No,
you haven’t

JEAN: Yes,
I have. I’m not a virgin.

STEVE: You’re
not?

JEAN: Not
technically. Well, no technically, I am. I mean not
theoretically.

STEVE: That
changes everything. (He moves in close to her.)

JEAN: What
are you doing?

STEVE: Nothing

JEAN: You’re
gonna get us both in trouble

STEVE: I’m
white and over thirty. I don’t get in trouble. (He turns off the light. Total
darkness.)

JEAN: Hey ..

STEVE: Shhh .. .(Moaning,
heavy breathing from STEVE, in the dark. The overhead light clicks on. JOHNNA
stands in the dining-room entryway, brandishing a cast-iron skillet. JEAN and
STEVE, clothes in disarray, separate.)

JEAN: Oh
my God ..

STEVE: Ho,
fuck! (Johnna approaches STEVE.) Hold up there, lady, you don’t know what
you’re (JOHNNA swings the skillet, barley missing STEVEs nose.) Hey, goddamn
it, careful-(He reaches for the skillet. She swings
again and smacks his knuckles.) Ow, goddamn-! (He grimaces, holds his hand in
pain. She wades in with a strong swing and connects squarely with his forehead.
STEVE goes down. JOHNNA stands above him, arm cocked, watching for a recovery,
but he does not attempt it. Elsewhere in the house: BILL, BARBARA and KAREN
wake in their different locations, head to the dining room. KAREN sees STEVE on
the floor and screams:)

KAREN: What
happened?! (Johnna and JEAN share a look KAREN goes to STEVE, props him up.)
Steve, what happened?! (He groans.) Tell me what happened

JOHNNA: He
was messing with Jean-

KAREN: Honey,
you’re bleeding, are you okay? (He groans again, tries to stand. Now BILL and
BARBARA enter the dining room, both in their night clothes.)

BARBARA: Jean,
what are you doing up? What’s going on-?

JEAN: We
were, I don’t know-

BARBARA: Who was? Talk to me, are you all I need to right? JEAN: Yeah, I’m fine.

BILL: What happened to him? Do I call a doctor? KAREN: I don’t know.

 

BARBARA: Johnna,
what’s going on?

JOHNNA: He
was messing with Jean. So I tuned him up

BARBARA: "Messing with," what do you mean "messing with"?

BILL: What…what’s that mean?

JOHNNA: He
was kissing her and grabbing her. (This information settles in … Then BARBARA
attacks STEVE, who has by now gotten to his feet. Ad-libs. KAREN gets between
them. BILL grabs BARBARA from behind, tries to pull her away. Ad-libs.)

BARBARA: I’ll
murder you, you prick!

BILL: (To
KAREN) Get him out of here!

STEVE: I
didn’t do anything!-–

JEAN: Mom,
stop it!

KAREN: Settle
down!

BILL: Get
back in the living room!

BARBARA: You
know how old that girl is?!

STEVE: (To
JEAN) Tell them I didn’t do anything!—

BARBARA: She’s
fourteen years old!

JEAN: Mom!

STEVE: She
said she was fifteen!

BARBARA: Are
you out of your goddamn mind?

KAREN: Barbara,
just back off! (KAREN manages to push STEVE out of the dining room, into the
living room. During the following, they get dressed and pack their bags.
BARBARA, BILL, JEAN and JOHNNA remain in the dining room.)

BARBARA: Oh
my God! Do you fucking believe that crazy prick?!

BILL: I
know, I know, settle down

BARBARA: "Settle
down," the son-of-a-bitch is a goddamn sociopath! What the fuck is going
on?

BILL: (To
JEAN) Are you okay?

JEAN: Yes,
I’m okay, what is the matter with you?

BARBARA: With
us?

JEAN: Will
you please stop freaking out?

BILL: Why
don’t you start at the beginning?

BARBARA: What
are you doing out of bed?

BILL: Please,
sweetheart, we need to know what went on here

JEAN: Nothing
"went on." Can we just not make a federal case out of everything? I
couldn’t sleep, I carne to the kitchen for a drink, he came in … end of story

BARBARA: That’s not the end of the story.

BILL: That’s not the end of the story.

JEAN: We
smoked pot, all right? We smoked a little pot, and we were goofing around, and
then everything just went haywire.

BARBARA: What have I told about smoking that attack him. Shit?! What did I say?

BILL: Then Johnna just chose to with a frying pan? I don’t think so.

JEAN: Look
at you two, you’re both so ridiculous. It’s no big deal, nothing happened.

BILL: We’re
concerned about you

JEAN: No,
you’re not. You just want to know who to punish.

BARBARA: Stop
it-

JEAN: You
can’t tell the difference between the good guys and the bad guys, so you want
me to sort it all out for you-

BARBARA: You
know what, skip the lecture. Just tell me what he did!

JEAN: He
didn’t do anything! Even if he did, what’s the big deal?

BILL: The
big deal, Jean, is that you’re fourteen years old

JEAN: Which
is only a few years younger than you like ‘em.
(BARBARA slaps JEAN; JEAN bursts into tears.) I hate you!

BARBARA: Yeah,
I hate you too, you little freak! (Jean tries to exit. BILL grabs her.)

BILL: Jean-

JEAN: Let
me go! (Jean pulls free, runs off.)

BILL: (To
BARBARA) What’s the matter with you? (BILL exits, pursuing JEAN.)

JOHNNA: Excuse
me. (Johnna exits, returns to her attic room. BARBARA regains some composure,
moves into the living room. STEVE has by now dressed and exited, carrying
suitcases. KAREN is pulling on a sweatshirt, grabbing a few leftover items,
restoring the hide-a-bed.)

KAREN: I
can do without a speech.

BARBARA: I
beg your pardon?

KAREN: I’m
leaving. We’re leaving. Back to Florida, tonight, now. Me and Steve, together.
You want to give me some grief about that?

BARBARA: Now
wait just a goddamn-

KAREN: You
better find out from Jean just exactly what went on in there before you start
pointing fingers, that’s all I’m saying. ‘Cause I
doubt Jean’s exactly blameless in all this. And I’m not blaming her. Just
because I said she’s not blameless, that doesn’t mean I’ve blamed her. I’m
saying she might share in the responsibility. You understand me? I know Steve
should know better than Jean, that she’s only fourteen. My point is, it’s not
cut and dried, black and white, good and bad. It lives where everything lives: somewhere in the middle. Where everything lives,
where all the rest of us live, everyone but you

BARBARA: Karen-

KAREN: I’m
not defending him. He’s not perfect. Just like all the rest of us, down here in
the muck. I’m no angel myself. I’ve done some things I’m not proud of. Things
you’ll never know about. Know what? I may even have to do same things I’m not
proud of again. ‘Cause sometimes life puts you in a
corner that way. And I am a human being, after all. Anyway
you have your own hash to settle. Before you start making speeches to the rest
of us

BARBARA: Right ..

KAREN: Come
January … I’ll be in Belize. Doesn’t that sound nice? (KAREN exits, rolling
her suitcase behind her. BILL enters.)

BILL: I’m
taking Jean with me. We’re heading back.

BARBARA: Fine

BILL: She’s
too much for you right now.

BARBARA: Okay

BILL: I’m
sure you’ll blame me for all this

BARBARA: Yeah,
well … (Beat) I fail. As a sister, as a mother, as a wife. I fail.

BILL: No,
you don’t

BARBARA: No?
I’ve physically attacked Mom and Jean in the space of about nine hours. Stick
around here much longer and I’ll cut off your penis

BILL: That’s
not funny

BARBARA: I
can’t make it up to Jean right now. She’s just going to have to wait until I
come back to Boulder

BILL: You
and Jean have about forty years left to fight and make up.

BARBARA: (Confused)
Why, what happens in forty years?

BILL: You
die.

BARBARA: Oh,
right.

BILL: I
mean

BARBARA: No.
Right

BILL: If
you’re lucky.

BARBARA: Says
you

BILL: If
we’re lucky. (Pause.)

BARBARA: You’re
never coming back to me, are you, Bill?

BILL: Never
say never, but ..

BARBARA: But
no

BILL: But
no

BARBARA: Even
if things don’t work out with you and Marsha.

BILL: Cindy

BARBARA: Cindy

BILL: Right.
Even if things don’t work out

BARBARA: And
I’m never really going to understand why, am I? (BILL struggles … it seems as
if he might say something more, but then:)

BILL: Probably
not. (Silence. BILL heads for the door. BARBARA watches him go and sobs.)

BARBARA: I
love you … I love you … (He stands for a moment, his back to her. He exits.
BARBARA stands, alone.)

 

Scene 3

 

The study: BARBARA and JOHNNA, in the
same positions as BEVERLY and JOHNNA in the Prologue. BARBARA’s had a few. She
nurses a glass of whiskey

BARBARA: One
of the last times I spoke with my father, we were talking about … I don’t
know, the state of the world, something … and he said, "You know, this
country was always pretty much a whorehouse, but at least it used to have some
promise. Now it’s just a shithole." And I think now maybe he was talking
about something else, something more specific, something more personal to him
… this house? This family? His marriage? Himself? I don’t know. But there was
something sad in his voice–or no, not sad, he always sounded sad-something
more hopeless than that. As if it had already happened. As if whatever was
disappearing had already disappeared. As if it was too late. As if it was
already over. And no one saw it go. This country, this experiment, America, this
hubris: what a lament, if no one saw it go. Here today, gone tomorrow. (Beat)
Dissipation is actually much worse than cataclysm

JOHNNA: Mrs.
Fordham, are you firing me?

BARBARA: Barbara.
No, no. Oh, no. Far from it. I’m owning up to my own shitty behavior. And I’m
giving you the opportunity to quit. I mean … there’s work. And then there’s
work. And after all … I’m here. Look around. No one
else is here. I mean, am I here, or am I here? I’m not saying your services
aren’t necessary. I just mean: I’m still here, goddamn
it

JOHNNA: I’m
prepared to stay. I’m familiar with this job. I can do this job. I don’t do it
for you or Mrs. Weston. Or even for Mr. Weston. Right? I do it for me

BARBARA: Why?

JOHNNA: I
need the work. (BARBARA finishes her glass of whiskey.)

BARBARA: Johnna
… what did my father say to you? (Pause.)

JOHNNA: He
talked a lot about his daughters … his three daughters, and his
granddaughter. That was his joy

BARBARA: Thank
you. That makes me feel better. Knowing that you can lie. (Beat) I want you to
stay on. Don’t worry about your salary. I’ll take care of it. (Johnna nods,
exits. BARBARA refills her whiskey glass. To herself) I’m still here, goddamn
it

 

Scene 4

 

For the first time since the shades were
removed from the windows, the house is seen in morning light. BARBARA and
SHERIFF GILBEAU stand in the living room

BARBARA: Everyone
just … vanished

SHERIFF GILBEAU: You were
the one I wanted to talk to.

BARBARA: ‘Kay.
Sit down. Do you want some coffee?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: No,
thanks

BARBARA: God,
Deon, you look really good. You really…filled out.
Nicely, I mean. You just look great

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Thanks

BARBARA: How
’bout me, don’t I look good?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Yes,
sorry, yes. You look great, too, just great.

BARBARA: Did
you want some coffee?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Uh. No.
No, thank you

BARBARA: And
you’re the sheriff. Of all things. That’s ironic.

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Why is
that ironic?

BARBARA: It’s
not. It’s incongruous. I think I misused "ironic." Oh, if my husband
could hear that. Well, fuck him. No, but it is, "incongruous."

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Why’s it
incongruous?

BARBARA: Because
of your, because of your … your dad.

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Oh, I
see, yeah

BARBARA: Is
he still alive?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Yeah,
after a fashion. He has Alzheimer’s.

BARBARA: Oh.
That’s awful

SHERIFF GILBEAU: He’s in
a home over in Nowata

BARBARA: I’m
sorry to hear that. That’s just. Married? You’re married? Wow. Hot flash. I’m
sorry, did you want some coffee? I asked you that already. You’re married.

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Divorced

BARBARA: Join
the club.

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Really?

BARBARA: I
mean, I’m joining your club. I mean looks like I’ll be joining your, your club.

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Sorry to
hear that

BARBARA: Have
kids?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Three
daughters.

BARBARA: Uh-huh.
Look at that

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Right,
no, I can’t tell you-

BARBARA: Three
daughters, that’s-

SHERIFF GILBEAU: -how
many times I’ve thought about the Weston sisters over the years.

BARBARA: The
Weston sisters. Been a while since I heard that. Sounds like a singing group.

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Yeah, I
guess

BARBARA: "Ladies
and gentlemen … The Agitated Weston Sisters." S

HERIFF GILBEAU: Is your
husband still here?

BARBARA: No,
he left a few days ago. A week ago? Two weeks ago. Two weeks ago? Back to Colorado,
with my daughter. With Jean

SHERIFF GILBEAU: She
seemed real sweet.

BARBARA: Ah,
she’s a nymphomaniac

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Really

BARBARA: "Jean."
That’s a stupid name.

SHERIFF GILBEAU: I like
it

BARBARA: You
know why we named her that? Bill’s a big Jean Seberg fan. Now that’s ironic.

SHERIFF GILBEAU: I don’t
get it

BARBARA: Jean
Seberg killed herself. With a massive over-blah of… blah-biturates.

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Oh

BARBARA: So.
(Silence.)

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Barbara?
Are you okay?

BARBARA (Softly): I’m
fine. Just got the Plains

SHERIFF GILBEAU: I
thought … I thought if you were going to be staying here a while we might get
some lunch someday. Catch up? Been a long time

BARBARA: Mm

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Would
you like to get some lunch someday?

BARBARA: Mm-hm

SHERIFF GILBEAU: The
other reason I came. I got a call from a woman named Chitra Naidu, who runs the
Country Squire Motel. She was throwing out some old newspapers and she saw a
photo of Mr. Weston that ran with his obituary. And she recognized him as the
man who stayed in Room 17 for two nights, the first two-nights of his absence.
(Beat) She said he checked in and she didn’t see him again until he checked
out. He made no phone calls. She has no way of telling if he received any phone
calls. But I can have a check run on the line to find out if he did

BARBARA: Do
you have a … cigarette?

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Yeah,
sure. (Fishes for a cigarette) I can check with the phone company, is what I
mean. (He lights her smoke.)

BARBARA: That’s
hot. No one knew where he was. I suppose he was, what … just trying to build
up the courage to jump in the water, I guess

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Or
overcoming the courage not to.

BARBARA: Right?
I don’t follow that, but it doesn’t matter

SHERIFF GILBEAU: In any
case. I thought you should know. (A sad, still moment.)

So … I can call you sometime? About having lunch?

BARBARA: Come
here

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Barbara?

BARBARA: Sh.
Come here … (He does not.) Come here … (He does. She touches his face.)
Sweet …

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Barbara ..

BARBARA: Mm
… just … touches … (She kisses him. He begins to take her arms but she moves away.)

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Barbara.

BARBARA: I’m ..

SHERIFF GILBEAU: I’m
sorry?

BARBARA: I ..

SHERIFF GILBEAU: Barbara?
Barbara, did you say something?

BARBARA: I’ve
forgotten what I look like

 

Scene 5

BARBARA, still wearing her nightgown, and
IVY, in the dining room. The house has taken on a ghostly cast. Elsewhere in
the house: JOHNNA prepares dinner in the kitchen

IVY: Is
she clean?

BARBARA: Clean-ish

IVY: So she’s not clean

BARBARA: The
woman’s got brain damage, dummy. If you think I’m going to strip-search her
every time she slurs a word-.

IVY: You
know the difference

BARBARA: She’s
moderately clean.

IVY: "Moderately"?

BARBARA: You
don’t like "moderately"? Then let’s say tolerably.

IVY: Is
she clean, or not?

BARBARA: Back
off. We’re trying to get by here, okay?

IVY: I’m
nervous

BARBARA: Why?
Oh, Christ, Ivy, not tonight.

IVY: Why
not?

BARBARA: We’re
only just now settling into some kind of rhythm around here. Now you come in
here with your little issues-

IVY: I
have to tell her, don’t I? We’re leaving for New York
tomorrow.

BARBARA: That’s
not a good idea

IVY: "A
good idea."

BARBARA: For
you and Little Charles to take this thing any further.

IVY: Where
is this coming from?

BARBARA: I
just got to thinking about it, and I think it’s a little weird, that’s all.

IVY: It’s
not up to you

BARBARA: Lot
of fish in the sea. Surely you can rule out the one single man in the world
you’re related to

IVY: I
happen to love the man I’m related-

BARBARA: Fuck
love, what a crock of shit. People can convince themselves they love a painted
rock. (Johnna brings food from the kitchen.) Looks great. What is it?

JOHNNA: Catfish

BARBARA: Bottom
feeders, my favorite. (Johnna retires to the kitchen. VIOLET enters from the
second-floor hallway, heads slowly for the dining room.)

IVY: You
think I shouldn’t tell her

BARBARA: You
should rethink the whole proposition. New York City is a ridiculous idea.
You’re almost fifty years old, Ivy, you can’t go to New York, you’ll break a
hip. Eat your catfish

IVY: You’re
infuriating

BARBARA: I
ain’t the one fuckin’ my cousin

IVY: I
have lived in this town, year in and year out, hoping against hope someone
would come into my life-

BARBARA: Don’t
get all Carson McCullers on me. Now wipe that tragic look off your face and eat
some catfish

IVY: Who
are you to speak to me like this? (VIOLET enters the dining room.)

BARBARA: Howdy,
Mom.

VIOLET: What’s
howdy about it?

BARBARA: Look,
catfish

VIOLET: Catfish

BARBAR: (Calling
off) Johnna! (To VIOLET) You hungry?

VIOLET: Ivy,
you should smile. Like me. (Johnna enters.)

BARBARA: Mom
needs her dinner, please. (Johnna exits.)

VIOLET: I’m
not hungry

BARBARA: You
haven’t eaten anything today. You didn’t eat anything yesterday.

VIOLET: I’m
not hungry

BARBARA: You’re
eating. You do what I say. Everyone do what I say

IVY: May
I ask why neither of you is dressed?

BARBARA: What
is it with you?

VIOLET: Yeah

BARBARA: We’re
dressed. We’re not sitting here naked, are we? Or did you want us to dress up?

VIOLET: Right,
’cause you’re coming over for fish

BARBARA: Right,
’cause you’re coming over for fish we’re supposed to
dress up. (Johnna reenters with two plates of food.)

JOHNNA: I’ll
eat in my room

BARBARA: That’s
fine, thank you. (Johnna exits with her plate of food.) (To VIOLET) Eat

VIOLET: No

BARBARA: Eat
it. Mom? Eat it.

VIOLET: No

BARBARA: Eat
it, you fucker. Eat that catfish.

VIOLET: Go
to hell!

BARBARA: That
doesn’t cut any fucking ice with me. Now eat that fucking fish.

IVY: Mom.
I have something to talk to you about

BARBARA: No,
you don’t.

IVY: Barbara-

BARBARA: No,
you don’t. Shut up. Shut the fuck up.

IVY: Please-

VIOLET: What’s
to talk about?

IVY: Mom-

BARBARA: Forget
it. Mom? Eat that fucking fish.

VIOLET: I’m
not hungry

BARBARA: Eat
it.

VIOLET: NO!

IVY: Mom,
I need to—!

VIOLET: NO!

IVY: Mom!

BARBARA: EAT
THE FISH, BITCH!

IVY: Mom,
please!

VIOLET: Barbara
… !

BARBARA: Okay,
fuck it, do what you want.

IVY: I
have to tell you something

BARBARA: Ivy’s
a lesbian.

VIOLET: What?

IVY: Barbara-

VIOLET: No,
you’re not.

IVY: No,
I’m not-

BARBARA: Yes,
you are. Did you eat your fish?

IVY: Barbara,
stop it!

BARBARA: Eat
your fish.

IVY: Barbara!

BARBARA: Eat
your fish.

VIOLET: Barbara,
quiet now-

IVY: Mom,
please, this is important-

BARBARA: Eatyourfisheatyourfisheatyourfish-(IVY
hurls her plate of food, smashes it.) What the fuck-

IVY: I
have something to say!

BARBARA: Are
we breaking shit? (BARBARA takes a vase from the sideboard, smashes it.) ‘Cause I can break shit-(VIOLET
throws her plate, smashes it.) See, we can all break shit

IVY: Charles
and I-

BARBARA; You
don’t want to break shit with me, muthah fuckah!

IVY: Charles
and I-

BARBARA: Johnna?!
Little spill in here!

IVY: Barbara,
stop it! Mom, Charles and I-

BARBARA: Little
Charles—

IVY: Charles
and I-

BARBARA: Little
Charles –

IVY: Charles
and I-

BARBARA: Little
Charles –

IVY: Charles
and I-

BARBARA: Little
Charles –

IVY: Barbara-

BARBARA: You
have to say "Little Charles " or she won’t know who you’re talking
about

IVY: Little
Charles and I …(BARBARA relents. IVY will finally
get to say the words.) Little Charles and I are-

VIOLET: Little
Charles and you are brother and sister. I know that.

BARBARA: Oh
… Mom

IVY: What?
No, listen to me, Little Charles —

VIOLET: I’ve
always known that. I told you, no one slips anything
by me.

IVY: Mom-

BARBARA: Don’t
listen to her

VIOLET: I
knew the whole time Bev and Mattie Fae were carrying on. Charlie shoulda known too, if he wasn’t smoking all that grass

BARBARA: It’s
the pills talking.

VIOLET: Pills
can’t talk

IVY: Wait ..

VIOLET: Your
father tore himself up over it, for thirty some-odd
years, but Beverly wouldn’t have been Beverly if he didn’t have plenty to brood
about

IVY: Mom,
what are you … ?

BARBARA: Oh,
honey ..

VIOLET: It’s better you girls know now, though, now you’re older.
Never know when someone might need a kidney. Better if everyone knows the truth

IVY: Oh
my God ..

VIOLET: Though
I can’t see the benefit in Little Charles ever knowing, break his little heart.
(Tell IVY) Tell me though, honey: how’d you find out? (IVY looks from VIOLET to
BARBARA … suddenly lurches away from the table, knocking over her chair.)

BARBARA: Ivy?

IVY: Why
did you tell me? Why in God’s name did you tell me this?

VIOLET: Hey,
what do you care?

IVY: You’re
monsters.

VIOLET: Come
on now-

IVY: Picking
the bones of the rest of us-

VIOLET: You crazy nut

IVY: Monsters

VIOLET: Who’s
the injured parry here? (IVY staggers out of the dining room, into the living
room. BARBARA pursues her.)

BARBARA: Ivy,
listen-

IVY: Leave
me alone!

BARBARA: Honey-

IVY: I
won’t let you do this to me!

BARBARA: When
Mattie Fae told me, I didn’t know what to do—

IVY: I
won’t let you change my story! (IVY exits. BARBARA chases after her and catches
her on the front porch.)

BARBARA: Goddamn
it, listen to me: I tried to protect you-

IVY: We’ll
go anyway. We’ll still go away, and you will never see me again.

BARBARA: Don’t
leave me like this

IVY: You
will never see me again

BARBARA: This
is not my fault. I didn’t tell you, Mom told you. It wasn’t me, it was Mom

IVY: There’s
no difference. (IVY exits. BARBARA reenters the house. She finds VIOLET
lighting a cigarette in the living room.)

VIOLET: You
know well’s I do, we couldn’t let Ivy run off with
Little Charles. Just wouldn’t be right. Ivy’s place is right here

BARBARA: She
says she’s leaving anyway

VIOLET: Nah.
She won’t go. She’s a sweet girl, Ivy, and I love her to death. But she isn’t
strong. Not like you. Or me

BARBARA: Right.
(Beat) You’ve known about Daddy and Mattie Fae all these years.

VIOLET: Oh,
sure. I never told them I knew. But your father knew. He knew I knew. He always
knew I knew. But we never talked about it. I chose the higher ground

BARBARA: Right

VIOLET: Now
if I’d had the chance, there at the end, I would’ve told him, "I hope this
isn’t about Little Charles, ’cause you know I know
all about that." If I’d reached him at the motel, I would’ve said,
"You’d’ be better off if you quit sulking about this ancient history. And
anyway, just ’cause you feel cast down doesn’t let
you off the hook."

BARBARA: If
you had reached him at the motel

VIOLET: I
called the motel, the Country Squire Motel-

BARBARA: -the
Country Squire Motel, right-

VIOLET: -but
it was too late, he must’ve already checked out. I called over there on Monday,
after I got into that safety deposit box. I told you I had to wait until Monday
morning for the bank to open so I could get into that safety deposit box. I
should’ve called him sooner, I guess, should’ve called the police, or Ivy,
someone. But Beverly and I had an arrangement. You have to
understand, for people like your father and me, who never had any money, ever,
as kids, people from our generation. that money is important

BARBARA: How’d
you know where he was?

VIOLET: He
left a note. Said I could call him at the Country Squire Motel. And I did, I
did call him, called him on Monday

BARBARA: After
you got into your safety deposit box.

VIOLET: We
had an arrangement

BARBARA: If
you could’ve stopped Daddy from killing himself, you wouldn’t have needed to
get into your safety deposit box.

VIOLET: Well,
hindsight’s twenty-twenty, isn’t it

BARBARA: Did
the note say Daddy was going to kill himself? (No response.) Mom?

VIOLET: If
I’d had my wits about me, I might’ve done it different. But I was, your father
and me both, we were…

BARBARA: You
were both fucked-up. (Beat) You were fucked-up. (Beat) You’re fucked-up.

VIOLET: You
had better understand this, you smug little ingrate,
there is at least one reason Beverly killed himself and that’s you. Think
there’s any way he would’ve done what he did if you were still here? No, just
him and rne, here in this house, in the dark, left to
just ourselves, abandoned, wasted lifetimes devoted to
your care and comfort. So stick that knife of judgment
in me, go ahead, but make no mistake, his blood is just as much on your hands
as it is on mine

(No response. VIOLET enters the study. BARBARA follows.) He did this, though;
this was his doing, not ours. Can you imagine anything more
cruel, to make me responsible? And why, just to weaken me, just to make
me prove my character? So no, I waited, I waited so I could get my hands on
that safety deposit box, but I would have waited anyway. You want to show who’s
stronger, Bev? Nobody is stronger than me, goddamn it. When nothing is left,
when everything is gone and disappeared, I’ll be here. Who’s stronger now, you
son-of-a-bitch?!

BARBARA: No,
you’re right, Mom. You’re the strong one. (BARBARA kisses her mother … exits
the study, returns to the living room. VIOLET calls after her.)

VIOLET: Barbara?
(BARBARA grabs her purse, digs out rental car keys.) Barbara?
(BARBARA stands, listens to her mother.) Barbara, please. (BARBARA exits the
house.) Please, Barbara. Please. (VIOLET shuffles into the living room.)
Barbara? You in here? (She crosses to the dining room.) Ivy? Ivy, you here?
Barb? (She crosses to the kitchen.) Barb? Ivy? (She turns in a circle,
disoriented, panicked. She crosses to the study.) Bev? (She reenters the living
room, stumbles to the stereo, puts on Clapton … stares at the turntable as
the album spins … attacks the record player, rakes the needle across the
album. She looks around, terrified, disoriented.) Johnna?! (She reels to the
stairway, crawls up the stairs on all fours.) Johnna, Johnna, Johnna … (She
arrives on the second floor. JOHNNA puts her plate of food aside and turns
toward the stairs

VIOLET, on all fours, continues up the stairs to the attic. She
arrives in JOHNNA’s room. She scrabbles into JOHNNA’s lap. JOHNNA holds
VIOLET’s head, smoothes her hair, rocks her.) And
then you’re gone, and Beverly, and then you’re gone, and Barbara, and then
you’re gone, and then you’re gone, and then you’re gone- (Johnna quietly sings
to VIOLET.)

JOHNNA: “This is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends . . .”

VIOLET: —and then you’re gone, and then you’re gone, and then you’re gone, and then you’re gone—

 

End Of Play