The Play

Strange Snow

ACT ONE

Scene 1

       The lights come up on MEGS on the porch, stage left, HE looks in the window for signs of life. Nothing. HE begins banging on the front door.

MEGS: Rise and shine, you sweet bear! It’s time! The fishy-wishies are waitin’ for us like whores in heat! We’re the drunkest sailors on the block! Hah!? Hah!? (Nothing. HE comes off the porch, looks upstairs) Wake up, you great fool! We’re gonna dance on Charlie the Tuna’s grave! (HE does a quick dance. Waits. Nothing. HE comes onto the porch again. HE bangs on the door) Davey!? You up or what, guy? Hello? Rise and shine! Bed is for lovers or invalids, huh? Davey? Yo, Davey! You awake!?

       A light comes on in the stairwell. MARTHA comes roaring down the stairs. SHE is carrying a golf club. SHE is in a robe and slippers. SHE wears glasses.

MARTHA: Stop it! Stop that noise! Stop it! (SHE glares at MEGS through the panes of glass in the door. SHE brandishes the golf club threateningly) If I have to come out there, you’ll be sorry. I know how to use this!

MEGS stops banging. HE grins.

MEGS: Well, hi there, little lady. Nice mornin’, huh? Kinda cold for golf though. Dark too. You always go golfin’ in your PJs? You got mud cleats in your slippers? (MARTHA glares at him, turns, puts down the club, goes to the phone) Who you callin’? You’re gonna wake’m up.

MARTHA: I’m calling the police.

MEGS: Why you callin’ the police, woman?

MARTHA: I suggest you run. The police will come and they’ll arrest you.

MEGS: Why would they want to do that?

MARTHA: Hello? Yes, I’d like the police. (For MEGS’s benefit) I’d like to report a disturbance.

MEGS: Hey, come on, I’m no disturbance. I’m a friend of Davey’s!

MARTHA: David?

MEGS: Dave Flanagan. This is his place, ain’t it?

MARTHA: David is in bed. At this hour most people are! You’d better have a very good reason for making such a racket.

MEGS (Grinning): I wake you?

MARTHA: Of course you woke me! You scared me to death!

MEGS: I’m a buddy a Davey’s.

MARTHA: I’ve never seen you here before.

MEGS: I’ve never been invited. But I’m a friend. Honest.

Pause.

MARTHA: Yes, hello? Could you please send a squad car to . . .

MEGS: No, wait, listen! You must be Davey’s sister, Martha!

Pause.

MARTHA: I don’t know you.!

MEGS: I feel like I know you! Davey talked about you all the time. Said you’re swell.

Pause.

MARTHA: Never mind.

       MARTHA hangs up the phone. Moves to the door, unlocks it, opens it a crack. MEGS sticks his head in, grins.

MEGS: Joseph Megessey. Everybody calls me Megs.

MARTHA frowns at MEGS as if there is a bad taste in her mouth.

MARTHA: Megs.

MEGS: That’s my name, don’t wear it out.

MARTHA: It’s a ridiculous name.

MEGS: Ain’t it? (Pause) Your brother and me, see, we’re goin’ fishin’.

MARTHA: Fishing.

MEGS: Yeah. It’s opening day!

MARTHA: Ridiculous, The sun’s not even up.

MEGS: Exactly, See, those trout’ll be so bleary-eyed, they’ll think our nightcrawlers are filet mignon. They’ll go for ’em. Pow! And you know what we’ll do, Martha? We’ll bring’m home here and cook’m up for your dinner. What a you think a that?

MARTHA retreats from the door, letting MEGS in.

MARTHA: I think you’re a fool. (SHE turns on lights in the living room)

MEGS (Following): No-o! It’s opening day! The luck is rolling off me in waves! Smell? Perfume, huh?

MARTHA: Don’t come near me. You smell like dirt,

MEGS: No! Nightcrawlers! (HE displays a plastic baggy filled with nightcrawlers) Hey, Martha! You want to come?

MARTHA: What? Where?

MEGS: Fishin’! I bet there’s a rainbow that long just waitin’ with your name on it, M-A-R-T-H-A!

MARTHA: Ridiculous.

MEGS: No! Listen, what say you go on upstairs and give your brother a poke in the breadbasket. Get him on down here.

MARTHA (Brushing past him to close the door that HE has left wide open): I will not! I’ll have you know I was up till two in the morning correcting papers!

MEGS: Hey, no you weren’t! On a Friday night?

MARTHA: Every night!

MEGS: I bet you was out hullaballooin’ under the moon. I bet you got home five minutes ago and you threw on that robe to fool me!

MARTHA: You’re preposterous.

MEGS: Ya can’t fool me, woman! You got moonburns on your cheeks like roses!

MARTHA: I do not!

MEGS: Do!

MARTHA: Be quiet!

       MARTHA tries to move past MEGS and HE sweeps her into his arms.

MEGS: Opening day, Martha! (And HE dances MARTHA around the furniture) Grab your partner, dance your partner, swing your partner!

MARTHA (Simultaneously): How dare you! Stop! You can’t just . . . I’m not dressed for . . . stop!

MEGS: Skip to the loo, my darlin’! (And HE deposits MARTHA in a chair) Thank you, ma’am! Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire better look out, huh? Yeah . . . uh, you think Davey’s up?

MARTHA: Joseph, I don’t think David remembered he made a date to go fishing with you.

MEGS: Opening day?

MARTHA: He wasn’t home when I went to bed at two.

MEGS: Naw, he musta remembered. (Yelling up the stairs) C’mon guy! I got my waders in the car! God, it’s good to meet you, Martha. Davey, he talked about you all the time, said you’re swell. Hey, has he ever mentioned me to you?

MARTHA: I’d of remembered it if he had.

MEGS (Grinning): Yeah. (MARTHA yawns) Would you look at me keeping you up? You oughta be in dreamland restin’ up for good ole Saturday night. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I’ll sit right here and wait. Go. Go to bed. (HE sits. HE “waits”)

Pause.

MARTHA: I’ll tell him you’re here. He won’t like it. (Pause) He hates being woken up. (Pause. SHE starts to leave; SHE stops) He throws alarm clocks through windows. (No response. SHE goes upstairs. Pause. SHE comes back down and proceeds briskly to the door with the intention of asking MEGS to leave) I’m not going to do it. He’ll take it out on me the rest of the day.

There is the sound of a toilet flushing from upstairs.

MEGS: Somebody’s up! I hear something flushing down the drain. Let’s hope it’s not last night’s dinner. (Calling up the stairs) ’Bout time, dude! Let’s get a move on! I’m borin’ your poor sister to death!

MARTHA: Why don’t I get coffee on? You’ll probably both need it.

MEGS: Hey, I’m fine.

MARTHA: Let me put it this way: David is going to need it.

MEGS: Don’t go to any trouble.

MARTHA: I assure you, I won’t. I’m up. (With a touch of sarcasm) I’m an early riser.

And THEY move into the kitchen.

MEGS: Know something? Me too. Up with the milkman every day. Listen, you do coffee and then Davey and I’ll go. I got food and drink in the car. I planned ahead. We are gonna eat better’n turkeys on the first a November. Osmosis, see. The trout are gonna feel it in the air that we’re fat and happy and they’re gonna be so jealous they’ll be chompin’ on air bubbles. Hey! Look at this! (HE takes what appears to be a large, brightly colored dustball from his pocket. HE places it ceremoniously on the table)

MARTHA: What is it?

MEGS: It’s a fly. I tied it myself. Ya like it?

MARTHA: It’s colorful.

MEGS: Oh, goddam, it is that, ain’t it? I figure it’ll either drive a fish mad with passion or scare’m half to death. Lotta hair and all of it cowlicks, Sorta like you, woman.

MARTHA (Her hands go to her hair): What? Oh . . . it’s a mess, isn’t it?

MEGS: Oh, no, Martha. It’s fine. It’s just fine . . . uh, I wonder what’s keepin’ that big guy. Think I oughta go bounce on his belly?

MARTHA: I don’t think that would be a wise idea. Joseph . . . there are beer cans in the wastebasket. They’re David’s discards. From last night. Before he went out.

MEGS (HE nudges the wastebasket. Cans rattle): From last night? Oh. He forgot, didn’t he!

MARTHA: I’m afraid so.

MEGS: Yeah. Well . . . it’s OK. My fault. My dumb mistake.

MARTHA: Joseph . . .

MEGS: No! Davey’s a busy guy, drivin’ those trucks here and there and back again. Who has time for fishin’? Hey, it’s been real good to meet you, Martha. I’m sorry I woke you. I’ll let myself out. (HE begins to exit)

Pause.

MARTHA: Joseph? This is ridiculous but . . . he’s had hangovers before . . . DAVID!? DAVID! GET UP THIS MINUTE! YOU’RE GOING FISHING!

MEGS: You think he heard?

MARTHA: I’m sure the whole neighborhood did. DAVID!

MEGS: GET YOUR BUTT IN GEAR, GUY! PULL ON YOUR DRAWERS AND PUT SOME DOUBLE KNOTS IN YOUR SNEAKERS! WE GOTTA CATCH A TROUT FOR MARTHA’S DINNER!

MARTHA: YOU’VE GOT TO CATCH A TROUT FOR MY DINNER!

MEGS: You like trout, do ya?

MARTHA: I’ve never had them.

MEGS: Well, I’ve never caught’m but there’s a first time for everything.

MARTHA: I bet there’s a recipe in one of the cookbooks.

MEGS: You fry’m! You dump’m in corn flour and then whip’m into bacon grease and they come out brown and tasty.

MARTHA: If you catch them and clean them, I’ll cook them.

MEGS: You will? You’re on, Martha. There’s one sittin’ under a log waitin’ for us and know what? It has your name right across the rainbow, M-A-R-T-H-A!! (And HE sweeps MARTHA into his arms again) Swing your partner. Dance your partner. Glide your partner round and round. Skip to the loo, my darlin’!

MARTHA (Simultaneously): Joseph, put me down . . . you can’t just . . . oh!

And MARTHA breaks into helpless giggles. DAVE enters down to the bottom of the stairs. HE is in boxer shorts and is horribly hung over. MARTHA and MEGS stop at the sight of him.

DAVE: What in hell is goin’ on?

MEGS (Grins; pause): You’re up! (Pause) Look at you! Wouldn’t go off a high dive in those johns, guy!

DAVE: What do you two think you’re doing?

MARTHA: You and Joseph are going fishing, David.

DAVE: You’re out of your mind.

MEGS: It’s opening day, guy.

DAVE: Rain check.

MARTHA: David, you made a date to go fishing. Joseph has the car loaded and ready to go.

DAVE: Joseph?

MEGS: I got beer, sandwiches. It’s a great adventure, guy.

DAVE: We plan this?

MEGS: Hey, last week. McDonald’s, remember? How you been, I said. Good, you said. We oughta get together, said me. Fine, said you. Fishing, said me, opening day. Opening day, said you. Hah?! Hah?! Guess what today is, guy!!

DAVE: I thought fishing season was in the fall.

MEGS: No, that’s huntin’. Don’t worry, we’ll do that too when the time comes. Opening day, Davey!

DAVE: I can’t.

MEGS: Opening day?

DAVE: Sorry.

MEGS: Rainbows this long.

DAVE: Not Up to it.

MEGS: Sure you are, Davey. A big ole nightcrawler on a hook? That’ll perk your ass up. I got one here so big those rainbows’ll have to be careful he don’t eat them.

And MEGS proudly displays one to DAVE, who almost gets sick.

DAVE: Yech.

MARTHA: Go take a shower. You’ll feel better.

DAVE: I’m passing.

MARTHA: You’re doing no such thing. Shower and get dressed. I’ll make breakfast for you both.

DAVE: I don’t want to go fishing, Martha.

MARTHA: You’re going.

DAVE: I don’t want to go fishing.

MARTHA: David, I want a trout. Fried in corn flour. There’s one waiting with my name on it.

MEGS: Davey? Hey, Davey? C’mon, guy. It’ll be a great time. There’s frost in the air and wondrous strange snow on the ground. The trout streams are gurglin’ and singing. Know what they’re sayin’? Wake up, Davey. It’s time. It’s time. Openin’ day with your ole buddy, Megs. Damn! Makes me want to paint my face and pretend I’m Hiawatha. Whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo! Fish-ing! Fish-ing! (HE keeps up his noise till DAVE says OK)

DAVE: Megs, I . . . I don’t . . . ahhh! OK!! (Exiting) I must have a screw loose.

MEGS: Never doubted it for a minute.

DAVE: I’m sleeping in the car.

MEGS: You’ll sleep, I’ll drive. Hey! You’re beautiful! Don’t you ever forget that.

DAVE (Offstage): God.

MARTHA: He didn’t look very beautiful to me. Not in those baggy drawers of his.

MEGS: Martha, you’re too much, you know that? You are. Something. He was not gonna go and you talked him into it.

MARTHA: I didn’t talk him into anything.

MEGS (Putting his hands affectionately on MARTHA’s arms): Ain’t you modest. I saw.

MARTHA (Coldly): I was making coffee.

And MARTHA enters the kitchen. MEGS follows.

MEGS: Hey, y’know, Martha, instant’s fine with me. I drink so much instant my stomach’s freeze-dried.

MARTHA: I find instant coffee foul. You’ll have to make do with ground for drip.

MEGS: Drip? We’ll go for it! I’ll pretend I fell asleep and woke up in Dunkin Donuts. Hey, you got any milk? (And HE sticks his nose in MARTHA’s refrigerator)

MARTHA (Annoyed): Yes, of course I’ve got milk.

MEGS (Bringing it out): Thank God for that. Powdered creamer? I hate that shit. It tastes like powdered mouseballs to me. (Pause) Oh goddam, listen to me talk. Give me a bar a soap and I’ll wash my mouth out as far down as my tonsils. Maybe it’ll learn me to talk like a human being in front of a lady.

MARTHA: A lady? Really . . . besides, I’m used to it. I teach high school students, mouths like spittoons.

MEGS: Rap’m smartly upside the head. That’ll learn’m.

MARTHA: My major was in biology, not the martial arts.

MEGS: Well, you ever have any problems, you let me know. I’m not good for much but one thing I could do is put the fear a God into a bunch a young punks. They oughta be bringin’ you apples and candy and havin’ crushes on you and stuff.

MARTHA: That’ll be the day. (Pause) You must of been a delightful student.

MEGS: Me? Oh no, I was never any good at school. I specialized in Phys Ed, auto shop and smokin’ in the lavatories. I’da driven you crazy.

MARTHA: I doubt it. I’ve developed a high tolerance level.

MEGS: I woulda. I could never keep my mouth shut. Everybody’d be laughin’. Not with me, at me. I didn’t care. I liked the attention. (Pause) Hey, you, Martha! I bet you was a hell of a student. (Pause. MARTHA looks at him suspiciously) Well, were ya?

MARTHA: Yes, I was. I was mad for it.

MEGS: No!

MARTHA (Proudly): I loved to study. Straight A’s in every subject.

MEGS: You’re something, Martha. It must be great to be so smart.

MARTHA (Gloating): Yes, it is.

MEGS: I was dumber’n paint. But I sure as hell woulda brought you apples and candy, Martha. You can bet your sweet ass on that! (And without thinking, HE swats MARTHA on the rump) Sorry.

MARTHA: What would you like for breakfast?

MEGS: Hey, anything. Everything. My eyes could be bigger’n basketballs, they still wouldn’t be bigger than my stomach.

MARTHA: I like pancakes on Saturday mornings.

MEGS: I do too. I love’m. Give me pancakes and the roadrunner on TV and Saturday morning is complete.

MARTHA: I like sausage too.

MEGS: Squealers? Sausage goes good with pancakes.

MARTHA: You’ll have that then?

MEGS: Sausage and pancakes?

MARTHA: Would you rather eggs?

MEGS: Hey, how ’bout all three?

MARTHA: Why didn’t I think of that.

MEGS: Goddam, Martha! Eggs and pancakes and sausage, it feels like Easter or something. And do you know what we’ll have to go with it? Beer! I got a couple a cases in the car.

MARTHA: For breakfast? That’s horrible.

MEGS: Breakfast beer. It’s the best kind. Martha, ain’t you ever had a beer for breakfast?

MARTHA: Joseph, there are those of us who have never had a beer.

MEGS: No! Woman, you are in for a treat. You sip on a breakfast beer and first thing you know, the cobwebs go, your voice rises two octaves, and God almighty, the sun comes up inside you! I’ll go get some! (And HE runs out of the kitchen, through the living room and out the front door)

MARTHA: Joseph, I hardly . . . all right.

       MARTHA begins to take things from the refrigerator. DAVE, dressed, comes down the stairs and into the kitchen. HE looks around.

DAVE: He leave?

MARTHA: He went to the car to get beer.

DAVE: Good. I could use one.

MARTHA: David, it happens to be five in the morning.

DAVE: You better believe it.

MARTHA: The idea is nauseating. You can’t drink beer.

DAVE: I can. What an asshole.

MARTHA: Sshh, He’ll hear you.

DAVE: I was talking about me. I wish you hadn’t sided with him, Martha. He was gonna leave.

MARTHA: He looked so hurt when he thought you might of forgotten.

DAVE: I had forgotten, Martha, why is it you’re a hardass with everything but stray animals? Bring’m in, give’m a warm bowl of milk, who ends up cleaning the turds off the floor? Me.

MARTHA: Hardly, Besides, your friend doesn’t qualify as an animal.

DAVE (Preoccupied): He’s not my friend. He’s just somebody I know. We were in Vietnam together.

MARTHA (Interested): Oh. (Pause) I like him.

DAVE: You don’t know him, sis.

MARTHA: I’m entided to my first impressions. He’s endearing is what he is.

DAVE: Endearing? (HE laughs) God, Martha, what do you know about endearing? (HE sips from the coffee MARTHA has brought him. HE makes a free) I wish he’d hurry up with that beer.

MARTHA: I wouldn’t think you could stomach it after all you had last night. I assume the empties were just the start.

DAVE: Come on. I work hard all week. I’m entitled to cut loose on the weekend. You ought to try it sometime. It’d do you good.

Pause.

MARTHA: I’d love to. You can take me with you tonight.

DAVE (Again preoccupied): Forget it.

MARTHA: Why not? All you ever do is go out with the boys. I’d think you might like a woman around for a change.

DAVE: Women we can use, a sister we don’t need. Besides, I date.

MARTHA: I’ve seen the kind of woman you date. Their idea of contributing to a conversation is to snap their chewing gum. Don’t you think you might like a point of view for a change?

DAVE: I want a point of view, I’ll listen to the news.

MARTHA: I’ll be silent then. Unresponsive, unobtrusive, the kind of women men like.

DAVE: How do you know what men like? (Laughing) God, Martha, you’re too much, you know that? You’ve hardly been out with anybody in your whole life but you’re the authority on the subject.

MARTHA: David? Piss up a rope.

DAVE (Surprised): What’d I say already?

MARTHA: Just . . . drink your juice.

MEGS rushes through the front door, through the living room and into the kitchen. HE is carrying two sixes of beer. HE puts them on the counter.

MEGS: Beer! We got it! I had to chop it out of the ice chest with a screwdriver! Be careful, it’s colder than Alaska. One for you, one for me, and the by-God coldest a the bunch for you, Martha. Blow on it first, otherwise your tongue’ll stick to the can. (HE holds out a beer to MARTHA)

DAVE: Forget it, Megs. Martha doesn’t drink beer.

MEGS: Oh. Well, hey, it is early. (And HE flips it in the air, catches it and sets it down)

DAVE: Any time of the day is too early for her.

MARTHA: David? (And SHE picks up the can of beer)

DAVE: Yeah?

MARTHA: To opening day. (SHE opens it. Shaken, it sprays her. Undaunted, SHE takes a mammoth gulp)

MEGS: To opening day, by damn!

MARTHA takes the can down from her lips. Her eyes are watering and SHE is breathless.

DAVE (Sarcastic): How’s it taste, sis?

MARTHA (Raising the can in toast): To trout! (SHE takes an even bigger gulp)

MEGS (Impressed): Are we gonna catch us the limit or what? Breakfast beer, Martha!

Pause as MARTHA struggles to hold it down.

MARTHA (Breathless but with a challenging look at DAVE): I have a confession, Joseph. I think I like beer.

DAVE: Terrific.

MEGS: I should say so! Finish that one off, I’ll crack you another one.

MARTHA: I’ll take it upstairs. I’ll have to get dressed if I’m coming with you.

DAVE: What?

MEGS: You’re coming along, Martha?

MARTHA: You invited me.

MEGS. Oh, this is so great. The rainbows’ll never know what hit’m.

MARTHA (Slapping DAVE on the shoulder): Yes, I’m sure they’ll be jumping in my lap dying to hear my women’s point of view. (SHE starts to exit)

DAVE: Forget it, Martha.

MARTHA: Joseph doesn’t mind, do you, Joseph?

MEGS: Mind? I should say not. I’m happy you’re coming, Martha. If I’da known you wanted to, I’da asked you twice.

MARTHA (Exiting): I’ll get ready.

MEGS: And don’t you worry about breakfast. We’ll stop along the way is what we’ll do. We’ll eat enough pancakes to build a house. On me! A woman doesn’t buy when I’m around.

DAVE (Sarcastic): Dress warm sis.

MARTHA (Offstage): David?

DAVE: Yeah?

MARTHA (Offstage): Up a rope!

MEGS (Laughing): She’s great, your sister. I like her. (HE puts on a Boston Bed Sox hat that HE pulls from his pocket. It is old and well worn) Hah!? Hah!? Opening day and we’re goin’ for it.

DAVE: Let’s not.

MEGS: Huh?

DAVE: Let’s say we have Martha make us some breakfast, we’ll shoot the shit awhile, and you hit the road and let me get some sleep ’cause let me tell you, Megs, I don’t feel good.

MEGS: You didn’t recognize the hat, did ya? I wear it for luck.

DAVE: Bad luck, huh?

MEGS: It’s changed its ways. It didn’t like it over there in Nam any better than we did. It’s not mine, it’s Bobby’s.

DAVE: Didn’t help ole Bobby much, did it?

MEGS: It’s helpin’ me.

DAVE: Listen, don’t get started.

MEGS: Sorry.

Pause.

DAVE: So . . . don’t see you around much, Megs.

MEGS: I been puttin’ a lot of hours at the garage. Hey, sweet bear, I opened up my own garage.

DAVE: You quit drivin’?

MEGS: It was time. Time to give those whores a rest, huh?

DAVE: Tell me about it.

MEGS: Yeah, but you’re still barrelassin’ ’cross them amber waves a grain, ain’tcha?

DAVE: Got a cake run. Produce distribution. Suits me fine.

MEGS: You ride’m, I’ll repair’m! Did you know they hide under rocks?

DAVE: Who?

MEGS: Trout, guy! The speckled little bastards, they hide under rocks! Now what kind of a life is that, huh?

DAVE: You ever caught a trout?

MEGS (Sheepish): No . . . but I been practicin’! I been casting in the backyard! I had that line singing through the air like a bullwhip! Till I got snagged. Neighbor’s sheet. Ripped the hell out it. Boy, was she pissed. Good fishermen file the barbs off their hooks.

DAVE: Come on. Who told you that?

MEGS: TV! The American Sportsman! Watch Don Meredith hunt anacondas with a bowie knife! Trout fishin’! You file off the barbs so they have a chance.

DAVE: Right. We gonna do that?

MEGS: No fuckin’ way, Jose!! Don’t tell Martha, stud, but I got a feelin’ the only way I’m gonna catch a fish is to drain the pond. We’ll see! We’ll see! Damn! This trout fishin’ is a good time!

DAVE: Great. Terrific.

MEGS: Y’know, I only wear Bobby’s hat on special occasions.

DAVE: Megs . . .

MEGS: No, really! Like when one of my kids needs a home run.

DAVE: Kids? What kids?

MEGS: Hey, I coached little league this last summer. Peewees. We screamed and hollered and lost every game. They want me for this year too. They like me,

DAVE: You’re just a likable guy. God . . . I gotta lie down.

       DAVE enters the living room, HE lies on the couch, MEGS follows.

MEGS: A home run in the ninth!?

DAVE: What?

MEGS: You liked the Yankees, Bobby liked the Red Sox. You guys bet. Bobby won on Carl Yastrzemski’s home run in the ninth,

DAVE: That’s right. Five bucks we bet.

MEGS: He loved those Red Sox, huh? Ole Bobby? Crazy for’m. He wanted us all to go to Fenway Park, remember? Beer and hot dogs, huh? Scream till we’re hoarse. We oughta do that sometime, sweet Davey. Baseball season’s just around the corner.

DAVE: Forget it.

MEGS: It’d be fun.

DAVE: Forget it.

MEGS: How come?

Pause.

DAVE: Hold out your hands.

MEGS (Hiding them): Aw, Davey . . . I ain’t put my fists through glass in a long time.

DAVE: I’ve heard that before.

MEGS: Look at me now, Davey, huh? Look at me. Fat and happy. I bet you never seen me looking so good, guy.

DAVE: You look the same as before. (Sarcastic) Guy.

MEGS (With an edge): And you. You look real good too. And you just stagger into me in the parking lot of ole McDonaldland. Damn. Fate’s a funny thing. (Pause) So talk to me some, huh?

DAVE: Talk? About what? (And HE rises, goes to the liquor cabinet, gets a bottle of whiskey from underneath. HE takes a sip, offers it to MEGS)

MEGS: Never touch it, stud. Be wasted on me. Be like puttin’ ethyl alcohol in a lawnmower. (HE is at the trophy case, HE picks up a photo) These your folks, huh?

DAVE: Huh? Yeah.

MEGS: Nice-lookin’ mom. Sorta like Martha.

DAVE: She moved to Florida about a year ago. She didn’t like the cold. She calls once a week and she and Martha gang up on me.

MEGS: Maybe too many memories of your dad around here too, huh?

DAVE: Maybe.

MEGS: Musta been tough, Davey. Musta been real tough. You come hobblin’ off the plane on those crutches a yours and they lay that on you.

DAVE: Yeah. I was pissed. It was my dad’s gung-ho vet shit that got me to enlist in the first place and I’d been fantasizing for months on how the first thing I was gonna do was deck the son of a bitch. I felt cheated.

MEGS (Picking up a photograph): Hey, is this Martha? (DAVE looks, laughs) Whoo, she’s changed, stud. Blossomed. (Picking up a plaque) And would you look at this? All League!

DAVE: Team captain.

MEGS (Picking up another photo): Goddam! Look at you! Nice tie, studhoss. When’s this?

DAVE: Senior year.

MEGS: Would ya look at them apple cheeks?

DAVE: Future fuckin’ lawyers club.

MEGS: You was gonna be a lawyer, Davey?

DAVE: What?

MEGS: You know, was that what you was, like, plannin’? To be a lawyer? After?

DAVE: I was gonna be everything, man. You name it, I was gonna be it.

MEGS: Hey. Know what all this is, Davey? Memories. Stuff to show your kids.

DAVE: Come off it, man. It’s a bad joke. Something out of Archie Comics. (Calls up the stairs) Hey, Martha! Let’s go if we’re going to go!

MEGS (Calls up to MARTHA): Dress warm, woman! We want you to catch rainbows, not your death of cold! Hey, sweet Davey, you think maybe she likes me?

DAVE: Come off it, man. You two are from different planets. Only reason she’s comin’ along is to bust my ass.

MEGS: Oh. Yeah. I guess you’re right. (Pause) Sun’s coming up. Real pretty. Remember the sunrises? Over there? They were beauties, huh? Yeah. Remember what ole Bobby’d say? If it wasn’t for the C-rations we could pretend we was in Hawaii. Remember him sayin’ that? I do. (Pause) Know what I hated? The waiting.

DAVE: Yeah. They always had to let us know in advance when we’d be goin’ out.

MEGS: Me, I never got used to it. Made me want to piss my pants every time. Only way I could bear it was to get up for it, y’know? Something set in. It was like I was numb and speedin’ at the same time.

DAVE: Christ, you listening to yourself?

MEGS: Just talkin’.

DAVE: What you’re talking about! We’re not there, we’re here!

MEGS: Damn right! We’re here and now and that’s what counts. Talking doesn’t hurt, Davey. (Pause) Maybe you don’t do it often enough.

DAVE: I was never there, Megs.

MEGS: I ain’t followin’ that.

DAVE: Look, as far as I’m concerned it never happened. It’s done with, understand?

MEGS: How come I’m standin’ here then?

DAVE: You got me.

MEGS: How come I’m wearin’ Bobby’s lucky hat?

DAVE: Burn the fuckin’ thing.

MEGS: It was Bobby’s.

DAVE: Bury it with him. (And HE suddenly knocks the hat from MEGS’s head. An ugly silence) Yeah . . . this trout fishing is a great time. (MEGS picks up the hat. Pause. MEGS begins picking up empty beer cans) Hey listen . . . Megs . . . leave that stuff. Martha’ll do it.

MEGS: My pleasure, stud. (And MARTHA comes down the stairs) By God, woman, look at you! Straight out of an L.L. Bean catalogue!! The fish are gonna take one look at you and walk out of the water with their hands up!

MARTHA: Thank you.

DAVE: Better get your glasses on or you’ll trip over them when they do.

MARTHA: I don’t need them. I have on contact lenses.

DAVE: Contacts!?

MARTHA: I’ve had them. I’ll take those, Joseph. They get under foot like marbles, don’t they?

And a hard look passes between DAVE and MARTHA.

DAVE: Have another beer, sis. Where’d you get the clothes?

MARTHA: I took some of my classes on a field trip to a freshwater pond. I couldn’t very well collect samples in a skirt.

MEGS: Hell, no. Would I change a muffler in a three-piece suit? You look terrific, Martha, just terrific. God, are we going to catch the limit or what? Listen, I’ll start the car. Opening day, ladies and gentlemen, opening day! Look out, trout, we’re on our way! (HE grabs the beer and exits)

Pause.

MARTHA: You’re drinking.

DAVE: You want to try this too?

MARTHA: I’ll pass, thank you. You ready?

DAVE: Who you trying to impress, Martha, huh? Contact lenses? You drinking beer? Give me a break.

MARTHA: What is wrong, David, with me having a good time for once?

DAVE (Gesturing in MEGS’s direction): You’re that desperate?

MARTHA: He’s nice.

DAVE: Or maybe he’s just as desperate as you.

MARTHA (Softly): Fuck you, David.

DAVE: Ooh, Miss Peach! Nice mouth for a schoolteacher. You talk that way to your students?

MARTHA: No. (Pause) Go back to bed if you want to. I’m going fishing. (SHE exits)

DAVE: Go on. The two of you have a great time! Hell with you both! (Pause. There is the sound of a car starting up, rewing. HE runs to the door) Martha!? I’m coming! (HE grabs his jacket, a fatigue jacket, HE picks up the bottle, HE exits) I wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Lights to black.

Scene 2

       MARTHA enters through the kitchen door, stage right, SHE has a blanket around her. Her pants and shoes are wet. Her hair is damp. SHE is shivering with cold.

MARTHA: Ohhh . . . (SHE runs through the kitchen, into the living room and up the stairs)

Pause.

MEGS: Martha! Hey, Martha!? (HE enters through the kitchen door. DAVE is out cold over his shoulder. DAVE groans) It’s A-OK, sweet bear, I gotcha. My wits are weak but my back is strong, (HE almost slips) Whoops! Good Christ, guy, there’s water on the floor. I almost took us both out. (DAVE groans) You gonna be sick again? You alive back there, hah? Hey, nobody ever said trout fishing was gonna be easy. Martha!!? (HE enters the living room) Whew, you are heavy, stud. We’ll have to make room for you in the trophy case. Have you stuffed and we’ll hang a little sign on you. This is what we brought back alive. Barely. Martha, where’d you go, woman!? Don’t worry, stud, we’ll follow the puddles, we’ll find her. Let’s get you settled, stud, (HE puts DAVE on the couch) It’s OK, sweet bear, it’s A-OK. Some of us, we didn’t drink, we’d cut our wrists, huh? You don’t have to explain. I know. You know I know. Looking good, studhoss, looking real good. You and me, we paddled twenty miles a shit creek, huh? Yeah. With our bare hands, we did. Me, I don’t forget that. I’m like an elephant, short on smarts, long on memory. You sleep, stud. Ole Megs is on watch. You sleep.

       MEGS takes off his jacket, drapes it over the sleeping DAVE, and sits. MARTHA enters in warm, dry clothes.

MARTHA: I was so cold. Is he all right?

MEGS: He’s in dreamland is all. His head’s gonna feel like a bowling alley when he wakes up but he’s fine.

MARTHA: He finished off the whole bottle, the poor fool.

MEGS: Guzzled it is what he did. Wasn’t the first time, won’t be the last, (HE begins to laugh)

MARTHA: What?

MEGS: You. You was a bedraggled cat, woman. You looked like you been on the spin cycle of a washing machine for fourteen hours.

MARTHA: If you hadn’t had that blanket in the car I’d of frozen to death.

MEGS: You were terrific, Martha.

MARTHA: Every trout for a hundred miles is probably hiding under a rock in a state of shock.

MEGS: Martha, your fish was gettin’ away!

MARTHA: Yes, I know! But I never thought you’d push me right in after it!

MEGS: I got excited! I mean, I knew you wanted the brainless thing so badly. God . . . he was beautiful, huh, Martha? A real rainbow. Hey, if I’da known you was gonna throw down the pole and try haulin’ him in hand over hand, I’da got you a drop line.

MARTHA: I was startled! I felt as though I’d stepped on a frog. I could feel him through the string.

MEGS: He felt you.

MARTHA: He was heavy.

MEGS: Woman, he was cousin to the Loch Ness monster! Enormous! You got him onto that bank and I thought, look out, Martha! That baby’s gonna take your leg off!

MARTHA: No!

MEGS: Yes!!

MARTHA: Really?

MEGS: Hey, would I lie? It’s a good thing he threw the hook. He was gettin’ pissed!

MARTHA: No. He was desperate. My heart went out to him.

MEGS: You’re something, Martha. You are. Didn’t I tell you there’d be one waitin’ with your name on it? M-A-R-T-H-A! It was a good time?

Pause.

MARTHA: It was a wonderful time, Joseph.

MEGS (Softly): Yeah? That’s just great.

MARTHA: You are having some soup.

MEGS: Soup would be great.

MARTHA: Come on. To the kitchen. Sit. Split pea with ham. Homemade.

MEGS: You’re kiddin’. By God, if food doesn’t come out of a can, I usually have a hard time recognizing it.

MARTHA: I’ll have you know I’m a very good cook.

MEGS: Well, goddam, we’re a team ’cause I like to eat.

MARTHA: Do your girlfriends cook for you?

MEGS: Tell you the truth, Martha, most a the girls I know don’t know a waffle iron from a frisbee. I been keepin’ a kinda low profile in the girlfriend department. Got kinda tired of mud wrestlers and hog callers. What about you, Martha? You must have to fight’m off with tomahawks.

MARTHA: I’m sorry to inform you I’ve given up the fight.

MEGS: Come on, woman, you’re built like a brick shithouse!

MARTHA: What?

MEGS: Oh, goddam. Me and my mouth again. Sorry, Martha, but you are. I noticed it straight off.

MARTHA: That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.

MEGS: No.

MARTHA: I’m shapeless.

MEGS: Solid. You’re sturdy. You’re a battleship!

MARTHA: Agreed. With the face of an icebreaker.

MEGS: No-oh.

MARTHA: Yes.

MEGS: No— . . .

MARTHA: Stop contradicting me! I know what I am. Plain and unattractive.

MEGS: Martha, I saw the picture in there. You used to be.

MARTHA: You’re very nice to try and convince me otherwise but I look in the mirror every morning. I live with what I see. The soup will be ready in a moment.

MEGS: Y’know, Martha, some people, they get awful ugly the minute they open their mouths. And other people, like you, Martha, they grow on you. The more you get to know’m, the better lookin’ they get.

MARTHA: Very few share your opinion.

MEGS: Oh. You give’m a chance to?

MARTHA: Look, I’m not one of those pieces of fluff you see in men’s magazines. Does that make me less a woman? It does not. (Pause) And I’m a fool because for some stupid reason I think it does. And so I buy contact lenses and clothes I can’t really afford. You think I’d of learned by now. You think I’d of learned at the start. (Pause) The soup is almost hot. (Pause) David had to even get me a date for my high school formal. I was on the decorations committee, the tickets committee. I put together the whole thing. Nobody asked me to go. David rounded up his friends and told them one of them had to invite me or he’d beat them all up. I think perhaps they drew straws. I didn’t know. Suddenly I was invited, that’s all that mattered. I was so happy. Well, it was something that couldn’t be kept quiet, David’s blackmail. I heard rumors. I confronted David. He wouldn’t admit what he’d done but I knew.

Pause.

MEGS: You go?

Pause.

MARTHA: I got very sick the night of the prom. A twenty-four hour thing. David meant well.

MEGS: I crashed mine. Yeah, I did. Just walked in wearin’ a motorcycle jacket, steel-toed jack boots, and shades, stood there like a madman, grinnin’ at all those tuxedos, hopin’ somebody’d try to throw me out. I think perhaps I also was very sick on the night of the prom.

MARTHA: Wouldn’t we have made a lovely couple.

MEGS: You’da gone with me?

MARTHA: What?

MEGS: If, y’know, I’da like, asked you, you’da gone with me?

MARTHA: Well . . . yes.

MEGS: Nah.

MARTHA: Yes.

MEGS: Nah.

MARTHA (Angrily): Why do you always contradict me? Yes, I would have gone with you.

MEGS: Well, goddam, woman! We’da had a great time!! I can see it! (HE jumps up, moves to the kitchen door) I come to pick you up. I knock on the door. (HE exits out the door. HE knocks three times)

MARTHA: What are you doing? What are you doing?

MEGS (Opening the door, stepping in): This ain’t detention, Martha. It’s the prom. Answer the door.

MARTHA: You’re in.

       MEGS realizes that HE is. HE grins, HE shuts the door. HE does a slow spin as if showing off something.

MEGS: Hah!? Hah!?

MARTHA: What?

MEGS: Your mom. She thinks I look very dashing in my tuxedo.

MARTHA: Oh, you do.

MEGS (Whipping off his hat): The corsage is as big as a goddam dogwood tree. (HE tosses his hat into the refrigerator) Your father comes over to shake hands. He smells my breath to see if I’ve been drinking. (HE exhales) I have!

MARTHA: He approves. And offers you an aperitif for the road.

MEGS: Too late! You make your entrance down the stairway! You look . . . terrific!

MARTHA: My gown is silk and gossamer.

MEGS: Yeah. And you look terrific. Your hair is just so. Hey! Know what it is?

MARTHA (Breaking the spell): Preposterous.

MEGS: No! It’s beautiful.

MARTHA: My shoes?

MEGS: Listen, you could click your heels three times and they’d take you to Kansas.

MARTHA: Ridiculous.

MEGS: No! (HE retrieves his hat from the refrigerator) There is a moment of embarrassment as I try to pin on your corsage. I am timid.

MARTHA: Of the occasion?

MEGS: Of your gunboats!

MARTHA (Giggling, slapping at MEGS): Stop! (SHE takes the hat and puts it on her head, the bill facing backwards) I smile reassuringly. (SHE does)

MEGS: And the air is heavy with the portent of things to come! (Offering his arm) Shall we go?

MARTHA: The chariot awaits?

MEGS (HE mimes opening a car door for MARTHA): ’57 Chevy, roars like a PT boat but smooth as glass. In accord with the occasion I have thrown all the empty beer cans in the back seat.

MARTHA: How thoughtful. We arrive?

MEGS: We knock’m dead. You’re beautiful.

MARTHA (Softly): You’re handsome.

MEGS: We dance! (HE does a ferocious dance: a combination of the jerk and the swim. HE sings the instrumental lead to “En-A-Gada-Da-Vida” by the Iron Butterfly as HE dances. HE stops, grinning) They play a slow one. (HE begins to sing “Michelle” by the Beatles. HE opens his arms to MARTHA. SHE comes to him. THEY sway) What a terrific dancer you are.

MARTHA (Shyly): And you.

MEGS: If I step on your feet you give me a shot to the kidneys, OK?

       MEGS pulls MARTHA very close, his hands going down around her waist. SHE stiffens.

MARTHA: This is stupid.

MEGS: Just dancing. (And HE holds MARTHA tighter still)

MARTHA (With a growing terror at MEGS’s embrace): Please Stop it. Get your hands off me!

       MARTHA struggles free from MEGS, rips the hat from her head, tosses it away from her, staggers to the stove. Pause.

MEGS: That’s the thing about shy people, Martha. They think everybody’s looking. Nobody is. ’Cept me, (Unable to hide his anger, his frustration, his hurt) And I like what I see!

MARTHA: For God’s sake, sit down. The soup is ready.

MEGS: That bad a dancer, huh? Yeah . . . (HE moves to exit out the kitchen door and suddenly, almost without thinking, HE punches out one of the panes of glass in the door) Oh God, I’m sorry . . .

MARTHA (Simultaneously with MEGS’s last line): Joseph! Your hand . . .

MEGS: I’ll pay for it, I promise, oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll pay for it.

       And MEGS is hiding his hands from MARTHA. SHE is trying to see if they’re cut.

MARTHA: I don’t care about the glass! Is your hand cut!?

MEGS: No, they’re fine! (And MARTHA sees the scars on his hands. Embarrassed, HE tries to hide them. SHE won’t let him) My hands . . . they ain’t so pretty. . . .

MARTHA: You’ve done it before. . . .

MEGS: Yeah. . . .

MARTHA: Why . . .

MEGS: I dunno why, Martha. I’m real sorry. Listen, you tell Davey so long for me. (HE starts to leave, going into the living room, heading for the front door)

MARTHA: Joseph? (MEGS stops) I’d have wanted you to take me to the prom.

Pause.

MEGS: Yeah?

MARTHA (Softly): Yes.

MEGS: Really?

MARTHA (Softly): Yes. (Pause) Will you sit and have soup with me?

Pause.

MEGS: Only ’cause you asked ’stead of ordered. (HE enters the kitchen, HE sits. MARTHA puts a bowl filled with soup in front of him) Look at this. China. (Looking at the plate the bowl is on) They match too. I almost got a set a tableware once. Every time you bought groceries at the store, they gave you a plate. I just didn’t shop often enough.

MARTHA: Go on. Start.

MEGS: No, I’m waitin’ for you. It’ll stay hot. I hate eating alone. You eat alone much, Martha?

MARTHA is getting crackers.

MARTHA: Sometimes I eat with David. David, however, eats alone. (Pause) I usually correct papers while I eat.

MEGS: Sounds to me like you give out way too much homework, Martha. (Pause) Sure smells good.

MARTHA (Sitting): Thank you.

MEGS: Good as Campbell’s, I bet. I haven’t even tasted it yet and I like it.

MARTHA: Now you can.

       MARTHA puts her napkin in her lap. MEGS is on the verge of digging in but notices this. HE puts down his spoon and carefully unfolds his napkin, placing it in his lap. HE tastes his soup. HE tastes it again. Perplexed, yet again. HE grins.

MEGS: Good.

MARTHA smiles, pleased. THEY eat. Pause.

MARTHA: David said you two were in Vietnam together.

MEGS: Basic right through we were.

MARTHA: He never talks about it.

MEGS: No? Me, I talk about it all the time. To myself when there’s no one around to listen. You ever had an ugly melody in your head? You can’t get rid of it no matter how hard you try to hum something else.

MARTHA: David gets furious if you even mention it. (Pause) Did you know David’s friend, Bobby?

MEGS: He told you about ole Bobby? Ole Bobby, Martha, he was. . . . You take a guy who does something well, he practices, right? Well, ole Bobby, he could just look at it once and do it better right off. Yup. And was he smart? He knew things. But see, he knew’m from here (Tapping his chest) as well as from here (Tapping his head). Ole Bobby was our heart. A regular waterwalker. We loved him. Oh, but we was some trio, Bobby, your brother and me. They thought I was lucky. Davey did anyway. Used to. He was always goin’ on about how I was a lucky dollar, a rabbit’s foot . . . yeah, I ain’t foolin’. Really! Lucky Megs! (Pause) That all kinda ended when we lost ole Bobby. It was when, y’know, Davey got hurt and me, I uh . . . I got in the way like I got a habit a doin’. Oh, I’ll tell you, Martha. Your brother is one sweet bear but ole Bobby was worth him and me rolled together. (Pause) You wouldn’t a liked me much when I got home. Crazy. I got in fights a lot, dumb ones, five against one where I got the piss kicked out a me. It was not a nice time. And what it got down to was . . . well . . . one night I was lyin’ around, contemplatin’ the rafters, wonderin’ if they could take my weight, and like . . . don’t laugh or nothin’, please . . . I prayed. I felt better. What was done, was done, y’know? For some reason we’d lost ole Bobby. And it was up to me to make that reason a good one. ’Cause ole Bobby, he deserved that. I think I’ve liked myself a little bit more ever since then. (Pause. MARTHA starts to take the bowls) Hey, no way, Jose! Cook doesn’t clean. My turn. (HE takes the bowls to the sink)

MARTHA: I think I’m going to cry.

MEGS: Huh?

MARTHA: You make me want to laugh and cry at the same time. I rarely do either one.

MEGS: Oh. Guess I oughta get goin’, huh? Sure wish we’d caught some trout. (HE starts to exit)

MARTHA: You’re coming for dinner anyway!

MEGS (In disbelief): I am?

MARTHA: Yes! I’m going to buy steaks and I’m going to make a nice salad and I’m going to put potatoes in the oven and . . . and . . . we’ll have wine! I’ll get a nice bottle of wine! And pie! I baked a pie this week and we’ll put ice cream on it and . . . unless of course you have other plans.

MEGS: Are you kiddin’ me?

MARTHA: Yes?

MEGS: Are you kiddin’ me?

MARTHA: You’ll come?

MEGS: Fuckin’ A, I’ll come! With fuckin’ bells on! You’ll pardon the expression. And listen, I’m buyin’ the wine!

MARTHA: I don’t know wine.

MEGS: Me neither, so what? We’ll shoot in the best. Know why? ’Cause you and me, Martha, we deserve it! Goddam, I better get cracking! It’s gonna take me a year in the shower to get cleaned up and even then I’d hedge my bets!

MARTHA: Eight o’clock?

MEGS: Eight o’clock is good.

MARTHA: I can be ready earlier.

MEGS: Seven-thirty is earlier.

MARTHA: How about seven?

MEGS: Goddam, woman! Why don’t I just stay and watch you change!? Just kiddin’, just kiddin’. Opening Day. It feels like Christmas. (HE puts his lucky hat on MARTHA) I’ll be back.

MARTHA: Bye, Joseph.

MEGS: Joseph. You’re too much, Martha. Something. M-A-R-T-H-A!

       MEGS exits out the front door, slamming it behind him. MARTHA rushes to the door and peers out watching him go.

MARTHA: Oh my . . .

       DAVE has stirred at the sound of the slamming door. HE sits up on the couch, groggy. A moment. MARTHA turns. SHE and DAVE look at each other. MARTHA is suddenly aware SHE is wearing the hat. SHE quickly takes it off. Lights to black.

End of Act One

ACT TWO

Scene 1

       MARTHA enters down the stairs into the living room. SHE is wearing a beautiful dress in a light pastel color, her hair is carefully brushed back. SHE wears a bit of makeup, DAVE enters right behind her. HE is unchanged, unshaven, and is smoking a cigarette.

DAVE: What a ya mean you invited him over for dinner?

MARTHA: I thought I spoke English. Invite, a verb, to request the participation of. Dinner. That’s a meal if memory serves me.

DAVE: I don’t want to eat dinner with him.

MARTHA: Your participation has not been requested. If you’d like to, you may. Go out if you don’t.

DAVE: I don’t even want the guy in my house.

MARTHA: It’s my house too. What shall we do? Call Mother in Florida and ask for a tie-breaking vote?

DAVE: What is this, Martha? Be kind to stranger week? You don’t even know Megs.

MARTHA: That’s why I invited him over. To get to know him.

DAVE: What you’re going to find out, you don’t need.

MARTHA: David, I am trying to tidy up. It is difficult with you pretending you’re Mount St. Helen’s, spewing ashes everywhere.

DAVE: Sis, want to know what he was in Vietnam? Jacknife. That’s what he called himself. It’s a truckdriving term, sis. It’s when you take a big, beautiful eighteen-wheeler and you crash it, turn it to shit. Jacknife. ’Cause he crashed trucks. He was crazy. And Vietnam made him crazier. He’s spent more time in the can on assault charges than you can believe.

MARTHA: He’s been very nice.

DAVE: Nothing’s happened to get him started. Push the right button and he’s off. Berserk, Martha.

MARTHA: I’m sorry you don’t like him, I do.

DAVE: You want to go out with someone? OK, I’ll set you up. Plenty a guys owe me favors; it’ll be no problem.

MARTHA: No, thank you.

DAVE: Martha . . .

MARTHA (Exiting to the kitchen): I have to put potatoes in the oven.

DAVE (Following): He’s nothing but a mechanic, Martha. He owns a garage for Christsake.

MARTHA: And you drive a truck, David. I try not to hold it against you.

Pause.

DAVE: Steak. We were gonna have trout for dinner. What a laugh. I froze my ass off.

MARTHA: I should have thought you were too drunk to feel anything.

DAVE: Martha, listen, I have his number someplace. Call him and tell him something came up, the P.T.A.

MARTHA: Are you joining us?

DAVE: The fucking board of education wants to see you!

MARTHA: Do you want a potato!?

DAVE: Yes! (Pause) If Dad was alive, he wouldn’t let a guy like this on the front porch.

MARTHA: Go out, David. Call up your friends, go to a bar and get drunk and hoarse screaming at the television.

DAVE: No way.

MARTHA: Then not another word if you’re staying! Be what you usually are, a presence in the house that eats whatever’s put in front of it and grunts when spoken to. I’d be better off living with a Saint Bernard!

DAVE: What is with you today?

MARTHA: What do you care, David? Really, why this sudden concern about who I see?

DAVE: Hey, you’re my sister.

MARTHA: I thought I was your housekeeper, your cook. I don’t know how long it’s been since I heard you say, Martha, how are you? I’ve been invited to a party, come along. Let’s get together and do something. How’s the old love life, kid?

DAVE: What love life? You never go out.

MARTHA: Exactly.

DAVE: OK, I’m sorry. I’ll take more interest from now on, I really will. Hey, we’ll go to a movie. How’s that sound? But Martha, forget Megs. The guy is not up to your standards.

MARTHA: Has anyone ever been? My so-called standards, David, are merely something I’ve hidden behind so I could salvage a little pride. (Pause) Do you remember that cruise I went on last Easter break?

DAVE: Yeah. You got a nice tan.

MARTHA: It was a swinging singles cruise, a man for every maid. It was a ship filled with depressed, lonely people and I went hoping I might meet . . . what . . . a kindred soul, someone I liked, who liked me, anyone. And I might have. If I could have left my standards at dockside. But I was frightened and so when I went on board my standards walked right up the gangolank behind me. I got a nice tan.

DAVE: Martha, what, you’re pissed off you didn’t get laid?

MARTHA: Wouldn’t you have been?

DAVE: Yeah, but you?

MARTHA: Oh, I’m sorry. Shy, plain women don’t desire. When they’re in bed at night they keep their hands off themselves and don’t fantasize. (Pause) David, how many times have you made love?

DAVE: Hey, come on, huh?

MARTHA: Really. Fifteen times? Fifty times? One hundred?

DAVE: Gimme a break.

MARTHA: Good God, David, look at me! I’m almost the perfect image of the virgin schoolmarm. Tending other people’s children is supposed to make me feel chaste and noble and fulfilled. Bullshit. I feel helpless and very stupid. I’m not a nun. I wrote boys’ names in my notebooks when I was young. I prayed that they’d pull my hair so I’d pay attention to them.

DAVE: Kids don’t know shit.

MARTHA: Oh, David, they know. I watch them. Girls are always glancing about. Is anyone looking? Is a boy looking? They are. You call them to the blackboard and they struggle up, bent at the waist, pulling their sweaters down.

DAVE: God, Martha, you checkin’ out their boners?

MARTHA: You’re horrible. I’m just telling you that they know! When you see a boy walking a girl to class, his arm around her, his mouth close to her ear, you know they know. Why should it be too late for me? (Pause. DAVE suddenly giggles. SHE looks at him. HE laughs. SHE is annoyed) What?

DAVE: Uh . . . before. About being a virgin schoolmarm? You said almost. I mean, I never thought that you . . . uh, it never occurred to me that . . . (HE laughs) Who’d you get it on with? Anybody I know?

MARTHA: You just . . . that’s none of your business.

DAVE: Yeah, it is. Come on. Please?

MARTHA: Go away.

DAVE: Martha, I’m curious. Martha? Mar-tha? (HE is laughing openly now)

MARTHA: Leave me alone.

DAVE: Loosen the strings, sis. Come on, gossip a little.

Pause.

MARTHA: William Green.

DAVE: Ichabod Crane? I don’t believe it. (HE laughs harder than ever)

MARTHA: That’s why it’s so hard for people like me. People like you make fun of someone’s rear end or waistline. You turn love into a beauty pageant. Stop laughing!

DAVE (Trying to stop but not succeeding): No! No! It’s not ’cause a the way you look.

MARTHA: Oh!

DAVE: It’s just that . . . I mean, you’re not what you’d call experienced. Are you? (HE laughs) No! And him . . . he was a shy guy and well . . . (HE laughs) Laurel and Hardy! This is another fine mess you’ve got me into! (HE laughs)

MARTHA: Oh, David, I could have died. Neither of us knew what we were doing. We were like two cars that had hooked bumpers . . . both of us pushing and pulling at the wrong times. And he kept apologizing the whole time. I’m terribly sorry. I think he’d hoped I’d changed my mind. (THEY laugh) I don’t know why I’m laughing . . . it was horrible. No passion. Guilt for him. Frustrated tears for me.

DAVE (Tenderly): I’m sorry, kiddo.

MARTHA: He asked me to marry him. He’d been in bed with me so he thought he should.

DAVE (Considering this a moment): Y’know, he wasn’t such a bad guy.

MARTHA (Bristling): Meaning I won’t get many chances? Meaning I’m not in any position to pick and choose?

DAVE: Here you go again.

MARTHA: I didn’t sleep with him so he’d marry me. We’d have made each other miserable. (Pause) Are you having dinner with us?

DAVE: Sis, you make dinner for Megs, he’ll latch onto you. He’ll be calling, coming by, telling me all sorts of crazy stuff. We won’t be able to get rid of him. You’re making a mistake, Martha.

MARTHA: It’s my mistake then.

DAVE: Jesus, Martha, why won’t you listen to me?! Do you know anything about men? No! You’d have a hard time handling the most perfect son of a bitch in the world, let alone this guy! (Pause) All right. All right. You’ll see. You’ll be beggin’ him to leave.

MARTHA: Go get cleaned up. You’ll feel better.

Pause.

DAVE (Softly): Is it really so bad here, Martha?

MARTHA: It’s not so bad.

DAVE: I love this place. Every good memory I have is here. (Pause) I like having you around here, Martha. (Pause) Listen, I’m gonna be more appreciative, you’ll see.

MARTHA: The things I want, you can’t give me, David.

DAVE: You’re gonna leave?

MARTHA: Someday. (Long pause) Go get cleaned up.

DAVE: Yeah. I got any clean clothes anywhere?

MARTHA: In the dryer.

DAVE (Preoccupied): Get’m for me, huh?

       DAVE exits upstairs. MARTHA puts the finishing touches on her table. MEGS comes to the front door, HE has flowers which HE hides behind his back. HE is carrying a large bag.

MEGS (Knocking): Hello, it’s me! Front door!

       MARTHA scurries around, checking everything to make sure it’s perfect. SHE checks her reflection in one of the windows. SHE hurries to the door, pauses, takes a deep breath, lets MEGS in.

MARTHA: Well now.

MEGS: Just a packhorse, that’s me. (HE displays the flowers, surprising MARTHA)

MARTHA: Oh, my.

MEGS: Like’m? I told the guy I was a white knight going to meet a fair damsel. Give me your best!

MARTHA: They’re beautiful.

MEGS: Wait. Here.

MARTHA: No!

MEGS: Yes! Candy.

MARTHA: Ohh . . .

MEGS: Just a mad seducer, that’s me. I got wine too. No idea what goes with what so I got one of every color: white, pink and blood red. And . . . this!

MARTHA: Brandy?

MEGS: If beer for breakfast is sunrise, brandy is sundown. (And doing a quick “bump and grind,” HE takes off his overcoat. HE is wearing a very wellmade, dark three-piece suit, a white shirt, a tie)

MARTHA: Look at you.

MEGS: It looked real good in the store window. I hardly ever get to wear it. I figured what the hell, prom night, y’know? (Pause) I’m real glad to be here, Martha.

       MARTHA hesitates, then leans up and kisses MEGS on the cheek. Lights go to black.

Scene 2

       MEGS and MARTHA are in the kitchen. Dinner has been finished. MEGS has taken off his jacket, loosened his tie, rolled up his sleeves. HE sits at the table and sips wine. MARTHA is putting the finishing touches on cleanup.

MEGS: Martha, I feel like I fell asleep and woke up in the Waldorf Astoria.

MARTHA: Go on.

MEGS: I do. Steaks I usually eat are so bad, you put’m down knowin’ the restaurant’s gotta make up for it by givin’ you all the beer you can drink. (Pause) Come on, Martha, you sit down.

MARTHA: Joseph . . .

MEGS: Hush, hush, hush. Sit. Have another glass of this Parisian nectar. I’m finishing up here. I’m not taking no for an answer. These hands may finger-paint in axle grease by day but come nightfall they whisper messages to me. Clean us, Megs. Drown us in boraxo. Wash the bathtub or something. So I do. My hands like it.

MARTHA: You’re a funny man.

MEGS: I am, ain’t I? Aren’t. Aren’t I. Good wine?

MARTHA: Oh yes. I heartily approve. (Giggling) Listen to me. Such an expert. The tip of my nose has gone numb. I’ll be swinging from the chandeliers next. Oh, I want to wrap the steak in tinfoil for you so you can take it home.

MEGS: Hey, no way, Jose! That’s teacher’s lunch for two days.

MARTHA: You’re taking it.

MEGS: Oh, God, I’m being ordered again. How can I refuse?

MARTHA: You can’t.

MEGS: Are you sure?

MARTHA: I try not to eat lunch. You saw my picture in there. The Hindenburg. My idea of an exceptional Saturday night used to be two pounds of fudge and thirty term papers. I’ve finally eliminated the two pounds of fudge.

MEGS: And from all the right places too.

Pause.

MARTHA: This will be in the refrigerator. Don’t you forget it either. More wine?

MEGS: You?

MARTHA: Yes.

MEGS: Me too.

MARTHA: Why don’t you take the wine in the living room and get comfortable. I’ll be there in a moment.

       MEGS enters the living room. MARTHA prepares a tray for the brandy: a cloth, snifters. MEGS is at the trophy case looking at MARTHA’s picture when DAVE comes downstairs.

MEGS: Hey, some dinner. Can your sister cook!

DAVE: Not bad.

MEGS: Come on, stud, your idea a cooking is to throw the meat in a pan, turn the flame on high and go and take a shower.

DAVE: Yeah . . . (HE moves to the kitchen)

MEGS: Hey! Listen, if she asks for my references, lie! Hah!? Hah!?

       And MEGS punches DAVE affectionately in the belly. DAVE enters the kitchen. HE gets a beer from the icebox.

MARTHA: It’s going very well, don’t you think?

DAVE: Your steak was pretty good. A little rare for my taste.

MARTHA: You seemed to be enjoying yourself.

DAVE: I didn’t think either of you knew I was here. This is great, Martha. Terrific, Martha. Look at you, Martha. And you eating it up. I didn’t know who to laugh at.

MEGS: Hey, team captain, big number fifty, like Butkus!

DAVE: Enthusiastic, isn’t he?

MARTHA: Positive. Optimistic. It’s refreshing.

Pause.

DAVE: He’s a loser.

Pause. And MARTHA suddenly slams an open drawer shut with a loud bang.

MARTHA: You’re the loser, David. Ever since you came home. What is it like to aspire to nothing more than getting drunk on Saturday night?

DAVE: I aspire to be left the fuck alone!

MARTHA: By what? Life in general? Why even be a human being, David?

DAVE: Good question.

MARTHA: The idea of anyone finding anything, even for a moment, offends you, you selfish . . .

DAVE (Overlapping): I want you to see what he’s like!

MARTHA: I know what he’s like. He’s gentle and he’s kind and we’re having a wonderful time. He likes me. You didn’t have to threaten to beat him up if he didn’t.

DAVE: What?

MARTHA: The time you got me the prom date!

DAVE: Oh, God . . .

MARTHA: That was done out of generosity and love, feelings you’ve forgotten about. You’re willing to keep me in this house just so it won’t be empty on the rare occasions you decide to come home! Well, I’m moving, David. I’m leaving! Like Mother! All the tears she shed? Did you really think all of them were for Poppa? Most of them were for you! YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE BEEN DEAD TOO!

DAVE: How’d you like a slap in the mouth?

MARTHA: I—dare—you! (And picking up her tray SHE exits to the living room)

DAVE: You’re a shrew, Martha! You got the face of a football cleat and could use a series of shots for distemper! Him tellin’ you different doesn’t make it so! It doesn’t make it so!

MEGS: You shouldn’t, Davey.

DAVE: I shouldn’t what!?

MEGS: Talk to someone who loves you like that, you shouldn’t.

DAVE: I want you to tell me something, man . . .

MARTHA: You don’t have to tell him anything, Joseph . . .

DAVE: He does! Just what are you doin’, huh? You plannin’ on being lucky for my sister!? Like you were for me? Like you were for Bobby?

MARTHA: Just leave, David.

DAVE: He knows what I’m talking about.

MEGS: What bugs you, man? That you thought I was lucky? Or that you was so piss-assed scared, you grabbed hold a that luck like it was rosary beads?

DAVE: I’d give anything to know why it’s your face I’m staring at and not Bobby’s.

MEGS: Get fucked.

DAVE: He loved it, Martha! He ate it up! Get some! Get some a them gooks! Bap-bap-bap-bap-bap-bap! Blow’m away! Nothin’ confusin’ about that, huh, Jacknife?

MEGS: It was heartbreaking the things I did. I’ll live my whole life being sorry for’m.

DAVE: But you loved it! You never had it so good. It was logical to you. And you just had to carry Bobby and me right along with you.

MEGS: Not Bobby, man. Bobby understood.

DAVE: Bobby is dead! Man! When you gonna remember that!?

MEGS: You fuckin’ jocks . . . (And suddenly HE blows. HE is at the trophy case and with a sweep of his hand HE sends trophies careening into the wall) You and your fucking jock dreams! I was a truckdriving numbnuts and they drafted me! But you!

DAVE: Yeah!?

MEGS: He enlisted. Mr. High School Hero enlisted! Went marchin’ off thinkin’ those piranha-eyed, cheesefaced motherfuckers was gonna tackle you ’stead a blow you away!!

DAVE: Jacknife set me straight!

MEGS: I stayed alive the only way I could! I rooted in what was happening around me like a pig in shit! And you ain’t gonna blame me or make me feel guilty no more!

DAVE: Thirty feet off the ground in a chopper, Martha, and he’s screaming like a rabid dog to get loose!

MEGS: Yeah! And you so close to lucky Megs, I thought you was tryin’ to cornhole me, man! No way, Megs. I can’t, Megs! Not in a million, Megs! NEVER HAPPEN!

DAVE (Overlapping): We shoulda stayed put, motherfucker. We should have stayed! But we went! ’Cause a you!

MEGS: I had to throw him out of the helicopter, Martha! Commanding officer was threatening to shoot him!

DAVE: Bullshit!

MEGS: You chickenshit. I heard you, Davey.

DAVE: You heard what?

MEGS: I heard. You was scared and tight and you landed wrong and your ankles broke. Bobby and I came back for you. I got hit ’cause a that. And I lay there in the mud with the blood pumpin’ from my chest, blurp-blurp, and I heard you. No, Bobby! Don’t go back for him! Fuck Megs! Jacknife is dead! Don’t go back for him, Bobby! But Bobby did go back, huh, Davey? (DAVE exits) You can’t walk away from that! Bobby did go back! Davey!? Bobby did! BOBBY DID! ‘(Pause. Then softly, through tears) Bobby did . . . (Pause) Maybe we never shoulda jumped outta that helicopter. Shoot away, sir. All of us, we don’t give a fuck! Dead or alive, we’re stayin’ right here! No way we’re goin’ down into that shit! Hindsight.

Pause.

MARTHA (Softly): Joseph?

MEGS: Mmm?

MARTHA: Let’s go out and do something wonderful.

Pause.

MEGS: Whatcha got in mind, you mad miss?

Pause.

MARTHA: I’d like to see your gas station. (Pause) And we’ll go by my school after. I’ll show you where I work. I have keys. I could show you my classroom. Charts on the wall . . . tick-tack-toe on the blackboard. (Pause) Shall I get my coat?

Pause.

MEGS: OK. (MARTHA gets their coats. SHE puts her own on, helps him into his) Sneakin’ back into high school, Martha. If I don’t feel notorious or something.

Pause.

MARTHA: I’ll protect you, Joseph.

Lights to black as MARTHA and MEGS exit out the front door.

Scene 3

       It is several hours later. MEGS and MARTHA enter through the kitchen door. There is a somberness, a preoccupation to MEGS that MARTHA is trying desperately to fight. MEGS is carrying a case of soda in his arms. HE holds the door for MARTHA.

MARTHA: Thank you. And thank you for the gasoline.

MEGS: Better you than the A-rabs, Martha.

MARTHA: I like my case of soda too. Thank you very much for that.

MEGS: You’re welcome.

MARTHA: A whole case of white birch beer. What am I going to do with that? (Pause) I suppose I could bathe in it.

MEGS: You don’t want it, Martha, I’ll take it back.

MARTHA: Joseph, no, I’m teasing.

MEGS: Oh.

MARTHA: You tease me unmercifully and then you can’t tell when you’re being teased.

MEGS: Sorry.

MARTHA: Teasing, it shows you’re cared for, doesn’t it? (Pause. MEGS doesn’t respond. SHE continues softly) I think it does. (Pause) Do you know what white birch beer is, Joseph?

MEGS: No.

MARTHA: I’ll tell you if you’d like.

MEGS: Please.

MARTHA: Snow-covered trees in a bottle. (Pause) Joseph, what’s the matter? You’re with me and then you’re not with me.

MEGS: Sorry.

MARTHA: You were hoping he’d be home, weren’t you? He’s not your friend, Joseph.

MEGS: I’m his friend.

Pause.

MARTHA: You’re a lovely man. I mean that.

MEGS: No, you don’t.

MARTHA: I do and you are.

MEGS: I got big bulgy eyes.

MARTHA: Well . . .

MEGS: And I am sorta losin’ my hair.

MARTHA: That’s a sign of virility, Joseph.

MEGS: Whoa,

MARTHA: You have a wonderful, open smile.

MEGS: I do not.

MARTHA: You do.

MEGS: You’re just leadin’ me on, woman, so’s you can get into my panties.

MARTHA: Now you’re teasing me.

MEGS: Hey, it shows you’re cared for. (Pause. It seems THEY are almost going to kiss) Martha, let’s go look for him.

MARTHA (Desperately): He’s not worth your concern. (Pause) Please. Let’s have our brandy.

       MARTHA moves to pour. SHE is stopped by the sound of DAVE entering. There is blood on his face and hands. His shirt is open and there is blood on his T-shirt. His eye is discolored and swollen. HE moves as if HE is in a daze. Long silence.

DAVE (Softly): I . . . uh . . . I fell down.

MEGS: How’s the ground look, stud?

Pause.

DAVE: Martha . . .

MARTHA: What? You want someone to tend your wounds? I’m sorry, David not tonight.

Pause. DAVE wants to say something, cannot.

MEGS: Want some ice for that eye, Davey?

DAVE (Softly): Martha, I’m sorry. . . .

Pause.

MEGS: Come on, guy, sit. Let’s see what you look like under all that blood. Don’t worry, it’s clean. You know me, I have to wipe my nose, I use my sleeve. (HE wipes at DAVE’s mouth) Hold on. (Pause) How can she understand, stud? She doesn’t know. She wasn’t there. (Pause) Hey, we hardly beat you home, guy. Yeah, we been out. I showed Martha my garage. It’s just a garage and all but I put a case a pop in her arms so it turned out OK. You want a birch beer, Davey? Good pop. (Silence) Maybe Martha’d make us some coffee. (MARTHA doesn’t move) Then we went and saw Martha’s classroom. Whoo, stud, beakers and specimens and microscopes. All we needed was a lightning bolt and we coulda created a monster. And we woulda nicknamed him Davey.

DAVE (Softly): Jacknife.

MEGS: That’s my name, don’t wear it out. That’s what Bobby called me.

DAVE: ’Cause you drove the trucks.

MEGS: I did. Crashed a lot of the mothers too. (Pause) Why don’t you tell Martha what your nickname was. I bet she’d like to know. (Pause) No? I will then. High School! ’Cause he loved high school. You was All League and you loved high school. Maybe too much, huh? Ole Bobby had a nickname for everything, didn’t he? (Pause) Huh? Tell Martha how Bobby could make it seem like Boy Scouts sitting around the campfire. Couldn’t he do that? (Pause) He could, Martha. (Pause. It is as if HE is suddenly making a decision) When I first got back, Davey, and was drivin’, I’d see ole Bobby standin’ at the side of the road with his thumb out. Isn’t that something? It’d be late at night maybe and I’d be tired and I’d blink my eyes and there he’d be, standing there in his combat fatigues, Lotta people think they understand what that’s like, don’t they, studhoss. Well, God love’m for bad liars. They can only try. You and me, we know it like it was yesterday morning. Know what else, Davey? Sometimes I’d even pick ole Bobby up. (DAVE groans softly) You believe that? I swear, one time Bobby sat next to me from Pittsburgh, P-A, all the way to Hartford, Connecticut. Wasn’t a bad conversation either. You ever do that? Pick’m up? Davey? Did ya? Davey, did you ever do that?

MARTHA: David, did you ever do that?

DAVE (Softly): Oh, God, Martha . . .

MEGS: You did, didn’t you. What’ja think? Scare ya? Nah. Nothin’ scary about ole Red Sock. That was Bobby’s nickname, Martha, ’Cause he loved the Red Sox. Didn’t he, Davey? Huh? Ole Bobby?

DAVE: He was gonna take us to Fenway Park . . . we were gonna cheer . . . oh, Bobby . . . you shoulda stayed put. You shouldn’t have gone back. Bobby didn’t help you, Megs,

MEGS: Died reaching down for me. Opened up like a rose in front a my eyes. Never knew what hit him.

DAVE: Christ almighty, if he’d stayed, he would of lived!

MEGS: Guy, how many nights have I stared at the ceiling thinkin’ that very thought. But he didn’t stay put. Wasn’t in him to leave me any more’n it was to leave you!

DAVE: If I hadn’t been scared, if I hadn’t landed wrong . . .

MEGS: Guy, things happen for a reason!

DAVE: What fucking reason!?

MEGS: I ain’t sure. I’m only workin’ on it.

DAVE: Then how come you’re doin’ so much better than me!?

MEGS: Davey . . . I been blamin’ myself for things I have no control over since first light. The way I look . . . way I talk . . . way I act . . . I was never no high school hero. I didn’t have so far to fall.

DAVE (So tired): I just want to be left alone. I want Bobby to leave me alone.

MEGS: Embrace him, stud. Take him in your arms. You and me, we got enough shithole memories to last a lifetime. He ain’t one of’m. He was our friend. Our heart. A waterwalker. Did we love him? (Pause) What were we gonna do, when we got back, no matter what? (Pause) Come on. Help me . . . no matter what.

DAVE: I dunno.

MEGS: Yeah, ya do. Come on. We were gonna . . . Davey!

DAVE: I dunno, go to Fenway Park!

MEGS: Best seats in the house, huh? Huh?

DAVE: Hot dogs and beer.

MEGS: And that green grass, fresh mowed.

DAVE: The sun beating down.

MEGS: Take off our shirts, huh? Soak up some rays!

DAVE: And we were gonna cheer. Cheer for Bobby’s favorite team.

MEGS: Cheer so loud, they was gonna start cheerin’ us back, yeah. And then?

DAVE: And then we were gonna . . . (HE stops)

MEGS: What, Davey? (Pause) What?

DAVE: Go fishing . . . opening day. (A silence. HE settles back in his chair, exhausted. MEGS moves away, lost in his own thoughts now) Martha?

MARTHA: Yes?

DAVE: I got in a fight tonight.

MARTHA: I know you did.

DAVE: With kids. The bar was filled with kids in high school letter sweaters, barely eighteen, if they were at all, and I dunno . . . I’d look at them, sis, and it was bringing tears to my eyes looking at them and finally I couldn’t anymore and I started pushing one of them. He looked scared. But he pushed back and when he did I just sorta waded into all of them. And Christ, Martha . . . they didn’t know how to fight . . . they didn’t know how to fight at all. I don’t know what to do. I think I might have hurt one of them. Maybe they’re still there. Maybe I should go back and see if he’s all right.

MARTHA: Maybe you should.

DAVE: I will. (HE moves to the front door. HE stops and turns) I blame people. I blame people so goddam much. (Pause) I’m so sorry, Martha.

MARTHA: I know you are.

       DAVE turns to leave. HE sees Bobby’s lucky hat hanging by the door. Pause. HE puts on the hat. HE turns and looks at MEGS. Pause. HE exits. Silence. MEGS moves to the window, watches DAVE go off into the night.

MEGS: It’s snowing. Awful late in the year. Real pretty. Last gasp. (Pause) It’s hard. Martha, sweet Martha, it’s so God-fuckin’ hard to put the fatigues to sleep . . . (Pause. HE moves to leave)

MARTHA: You’re leaving?

MEGS: Thought I would. Let things get back to normal.

MARTHA: Has normal been succeeding so well?

MEGS: Your brother loves you, Martha. Well . . .

MARTHA: We never had brandy, Joseph.

MEGS: You’re right. We didn’t.

MARTHA: One glass. We deserve it.

MEGS: Shoot it in. (MARTHA pours. THEY drink) Sundown. (HE moves to leave)

MARTHA (In despair): Stay? (Pause) We’ll go upstairs.

MEGS: What’s there?

MARTHA (Inaudibly): Bedrooms. (Clearing her throat) Bedrooms.

MEGS (Not unkindly): Who the fuck we kiddin’, Martha?

MARTHA: Mission accomplished, is that it?

MEGS: A woman like you, a madman like me, who we kiddin’ but ourselves?

MARTHA: You brought me flowers and candy and wine. We were having a wonderful time.

MEGS: One a the best I ever had, Martha, but . . .

MARTHA: It doesn’t have to end. If I’ve been fooling myself, I can fool myself a little longer.

MEGS: I can’t, Martha. (HE exits. Silence. Very slowly, as if SHE’s afraid SHE might break, MARTHA sits. Silence. HE returns in a rush, closing the door quickly behind him) Y’know, I bet we woulda left that prom dance early!

MARTHA: Do you think?

MEGS: Yeah! We woulda gone off for dinner at a fancy restaurant! Partridge maybe!

MARTHA: Partridge?

MEGS: Can’t have cheeseburgers, woman! And then maybe we woulda driven someplace. Someplace quiet. And parked. And then . . . who knows?! (Pause. And the false bravado falls away. Softly) Who knows . . . (Pause) I’m real nervous, Martha.

MARTHA: It’s prom night. We’ve been kissing and hugging in the back of your ’57 Chevy for hours. And we’ve had brandy. (Pause) Let’s go upstairs, (SHE takes his hand) It’s time.

As MEGS and MARTHA go up. the stairs, the lights go to black.

END OF PLAY