Traveler in the Dark

Traveler in the Dark was originally produced by the American Repertory Theatre, Cambridge, Massachusetts, Robert Brustein, Artistic Director, in February 1984 in a production directed by Tom Moore. The cast was as follows:

Stephen	Damion Scheller
Sam	Sam Waterston
Glory	Phyllis Somerville
Everett	Hume Cronyn

The following year, Traveler in the Dark premiered on the West Coast at Center Theatre Group of Los Angeles at the Mark Taper Forum, Gordon Davidson, Artistic Director, in a production directed by Mr. Davidson. The cast was as follows:

Stephen	Scott Grimes
Sam	Len Cariou
Glory	Deborah May
Everett	Claude Akins

INTRODUCTION

I wrote this play because I was very confused about the relationship between me and my mind. I had always thought being smart was some kind of protection. But it isn’t, really, and I had just learned, or rather, just accepted that. What I felt as I sat down to write was that all my mind did on most days, was make things worse.

And indeed, according to the critics, what my mind did here was make up my worst play yet.

I mean, critics usually hate the play you write after you win the Pulitzer, but they really hated this one. Jack Kroll called me the “crisis laureate.” And an LA critic’s review was so vicious as to make me decide to stop writing for four years. Why did they hate it? I don’t know. Maybe because it’s the kind of philosophical writing that’s only supposed to be done by Brits, or maybe because it talks about faith, and faith is something we don’t talk about in the theatre, or maybe because the main character is a smart rich doctor who isn’t happy, and critics don’t care about that, or maybe they hated it because it doesn’t work, or hasn’t yet. (I heard there was a great production in Canada.) Maybe it’s actually very good and is just waiting for the right production, or the right actor.

It’s all very mysterious, that is, not given to us to know.

All I in fact know, is that my great friend Susan Kingsley died three days before the play opened. And all the writing and thinking I had done about death in this play did not help at all.

CHARACTERS

STEPHEN: a pale twelve-year-old boy, the son of Glory and Sam. He is a smart boy who speaks quietly and hasn’t watched much television or played with many other children. He has an alert, questioning manner, a fierce respect for his father, and a more childlike love for his mother.

SAM: a world-famous surgeon. He is a brilliant loner, a man who has found his problems not quite worthy of his skills in solving them. He can seem preoccupied, impatient, and condescending. But he can also be counted on to handle any situation. His sense of humor is what makes you put up with his infuriating personal security.

GLORY: a lovely woman, who takes her responsibilities as a wife and mother quite seriously. She speaks quickly and laughs easily. She is blessed with a rare grace, an elegance of spirit, and nobody understands how on earth she has stayed married to Sam for all these years.

EVERETT: a country preacher, Sam’s father. He is a one-time fire-breathing evangelist who now spends his time burying the same people he worked so hard to save. Everett has gotten old, but Sam, in particular, has not noticed this. He is a great favorite with the ladies, has a wizard’s command of the language, and a direct, personal relationship to God and the heavenly hosts.

 

Traveler in the Dark

ACT I

The play takes place in the overgrown garden of a country preacher’s house. There are stone animals, including one large goose, stone benches, a crumbling stone wall and a small pond. Various objects are imbedded in the wall—toys, mainly, but also such household objects as cups and saucers. It is not important that these objects be seen by the audience. In fact, the less impressive this garden appears, the better. It is Sam’s connection to the garden that is important, not ours.

Sam comes out the back door onto the porch, then walks down the steps and into the garden. He smiles and nods, happy to see it again. As he walks through the leaves, he kicks a hidden toy, bends over, picks it up, and recognizes it as an old toy car of his. He brushes the leaves out of it, then races it up his arm. Then he puts the car back in the wall and walks to the other side of the garden, where he discovers a geode. He picks it up, looks at the upstairs window of the house, then puts the geode back where it was. Now, Sam sees that a section of the wall is completely gone, and with it, apparently, the stone goose. He begins to lift the rock back into place. Glory opens the back door and calls out.

GLORY: Sam?

SAM: I’m out here. Come. Look.

GLORY: Don’t tell me now. Let me guess. (She looks around.) It’s the backyard.

SAM: It’s Mother’s garden.

GLORY: I’m sorry. (She walks into the garden.)

SAM: There are all kinds of stone animals, rabbits and things down there, somewhere, and watch where you step. One of those piles of leaves is a pond. (Now he sees the stone goose buried under a pile of rock.) Wait a minute. (He lifts the goose up and puts her in her rightful place on the wall.) There she is. Mother.

GLORY: (Shakes her head.) Sam…

SAM: This place is a mess. Dad never did like this garden. He said Mother should save her knees for church.

GLORY: Sam, I’m worried about Stephen. He doesn’t understand.

SAM: (Going to the old tool chest near the porch.) What’s there to understand? Mavis is dead.

GLORY: Sam, she was more than your head nurse. Mavis carried a puzzle for Stephen in every purse she owned. She was his friend. He doesn’t believe it.

SAM: (As he sweeps the top of the wall with a whisk broom.) He will. He’ll be fine. Nobody ever died on him before, that’s all. He’ll get the hang of it, you’ll see.

GLORY: He’s upstairs right now going through all your old books.

SAM: That’s all right, too. They can’t hurt him now. Here, hold this a minute. (He hands her a stone rabbit, while he cleans out the space in the wall where it belongs.)

GLORY: Stephen needs you to explain this to him, Sam. I try to get him to talk about it, but he won’t. You’ve got to tell him something that will make him feel better.

SAM: Like what?

GLORY: If I knew like what, I’d tell him myself.

SAM: What did you say to make you feel better?

GLORY: I don’t feel better.

SAM: See what I mean?

GLORY: (Irritated with him.) But I want to feel better, and so does Stephen.

SAM: There isn’t anything to say. Mavis waited too long to have herself checked. I did the operation. She died. Stephen knows all of that already.

GLORY: But he doesn’t know what it means.

SAM: It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just…bad luck. (He takes the stone rabbit from her and replaces it in the wall.)

SAM: There. Doesn’t that look better?

GLORY: (Giving up for now.) I called your dad. He had another funeral to preach this morning. He’ll be here as soon as he can.

SAM: There’s no reason for him to come home. We can just meet him at the church.

GLORY: He wants to see you, Sam, and the funeral’s not ’til two o’clock.

(Sam resumes his work on the wall.)

SAM: Is everybody coming back here or what after the funeral? I know Mavis didn’t have any family left here.

GLORY: We’re all going to Josie Barnett’s.

SAM: Josie Barnett is a joke.

GLORY: Mavis loved her.

SAM: Mavis loved Dad.

GLORY: You don’t want them all coming here, do you?

SAM: God, no.

GLORY: Well, then…

SAM: Is Josie Barnett…going to…try to…sing…at the funeral?

(She doesn’t answer, so he knows the answer must be yes.)

SAM: Christ.

GLORY: Sam.

SAM: It’s just an awful lot to pay for a free meal.

(Still she doesn’t answer.)

SAM: Couldn’t we just go to a restaurant?

GLORY: I don’t believe you. Can’t you let up on these people for one day? One day? Mavis was one of these people, you know, and your dad is one of these people, and I am one of these people. (She pauses.) And so are you.

SAM: Okay, okay.

STEPHEN: (Calling from inside the house.) Dad?

SAM: Out here, Stephen.

GLORY: (To Sam.) Will you try? Will you try to get him to talk about it?

SAM: If he wants to talk, I’ll listen. (Pause.) If that’s what you mean.

GLORY: You know what I mean.

(By now, Stephen is walking up to them, carrying a stack of old nursery rhymes and fairy tales.)

STEPHEN: What a great house! Why didn’t we ever come here before?

SAM: It’s just easier for Grandpa to visit us, Stephen.

STEPHEN: This garden is terrific! Did you put all these things in the wall?

SAM: No, Stephen, Mother did. (Smiling at Glory.) It was her way of teaching me not to leave my toys outside.

STEPHEN: I found a whole room of books, Dad, way at the top of the house. Like a forest of books growing up out of the floor. Just books and a rocking chair. I’ve never seen a room like that.

SAM: Those were Mother’s books, Stephen.

STEPHEN: The ones I saw were all kids’ books. (Pause.) But where did you sit? Is it your rocking chair or hers?

SAM: Hers.

STEPHEN: They’re strange books, Dad. I didn’t see a single one I’d ever seen before.

SAM: I know. Your books…make sense.

GLORY: I’m sure Grandpa would let you take some of them home if you wanted to.

SAM: Stephen’s way too old for those books, aren’t you?

GLORY: This is a beautiful Mother Goose. I can just see her holding you on her lap and reading this to you. (And she reads.)

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the King’s horses and all the King’s men,

Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

STEPHEN: I don’t get it.

SAM: (Laughs.) Good boy.

GLORY: (Carefully.) Stephen, it just means, there are some things that once they happen they can’t be fixed.

STEPHEN: But how did he get on the wall in the first place? Eggs can’t climb.

SAM: (Breaking the bad news.) His…mother…laid him there.

GLORY: Sam.

STEPHEN: Then how did he fall? Eggs can’t walk either.

SAM: She told him he was a man. See? She dressed him up in a little man’s suit. He didn’t know he could fall. He didn’t know he could break. He didn’t know he was an egg.

STEPHEN: So what happened to him? Did he run all over the sidewalk and people slipped on him or did he dry up in the sun or what?

(Sam tests a big stone and finds it loose.)

SAM: Something like that.

GLORY: (Not pleased with Sam’s answer.) I’m sure somebody cleaned it up, Stephen.

STEPHEN: But who?

GLORY: Who do you think? (Pause.) Mom.

SAM: No. I think Mom fell off the wall the day before.

(Glory is irritated with Sam, but she does her best not to show it. Sam puts the big stone where it belongs, as Glory turns her attention to Stephen.)

GLORY: Now Stephen, the funeral is at two o’clock. But Grandpa’s coming home first, and then we’ll all go to the church together. He was sorry he couldn’t be here to meet us when we got here, but he had another funeral to preach this morning.

STEPHEN: Okay.

GLORY: We’ll have to be very careful what we say to Grandpa. Mavis called him every Friday night, you know, told him everything that had gone on at the hospital all week. He loved Mavis more than any of us did, I think. (Pause.) I know…he was disappointed when your dad fell in love with me instead of Mavis. There’s nothing he likes better in this world than Mavis and your dad.

STEPHEN: Liked.

GLORY: What?

STEPHEN: Liked better. Nothing he liked better than Mavis and Dad.

GLORY: You don’t stop liking people just because they die, Stephen.

SAM: Sometimes you like them better. Harry Truman, for example.

(Glory picks up another book and starts to look through it.)

STEPHEN: Can we go fishing while we’re here? Mavis told me that’s what you do in the country. You fish till you’re hungry, eat till you’re sleepy, then sleep till it’s time to wake up and go fishing.

GLORY: I don’t know why not.

SAM: We’re not going to be here that long, Stephen.

GLORY: Do you want us to tell you what’s going to happen at the funeral?

STEPHEN: Am I going to sit by myself?

GLORY: No, you’ll sit with us.

STEPHEN: Then no. If I need to stand up or anything, you can just grab me.

(Sam gives Glory a “let-him-alone” look, and Glory returns his look, as if to say “this is what I was talking about.”)

SAM: Stephen, is there anything you want to ask me about any of this?

STEPHEN: Do I have to say anything at the funeral?

SAM: No. And you don’t have to listen, either.

(Glory doesn’t think this is helping Stephen a bit. She tries to interest him in the book she has.)

GLORY: Now here’s one I like, “The Princess and The Frog.” See, Stephen? The princess kisses the frog and he turns into a prince.

(Sam makes some move that indicates he has understood her irritation.)

STEPHEN: You’ve got the frog colored in, Dad, but you made him all brown.

SAM: That’s what color frogs are, Stephen.

STEPHEN: Now how could a frog turn into a prince?

GLORY: It was magic, Stephen. Magic always works.

SAM: (A direct communication to Glory.) Magic had nothing to do with it. The frog believed that the beauty could turn him into a prince. One kiss from her and he would be handsome, and play tennis, and mix martinis, and tell jokes at parties, just like all her other boyfriends. (Pause.) But years later, the prince started to turn, slowly at first, but finally and irreversibly, back into the frog he always was.

STEPHEN: It doesn’t say that in this book.

SAM: (Scraping the dirt off some of the toys that have fallen out of the wall.) It doesn’t have to. You are born a frog and that is it. It’s not so bad, but it is it. Frogs should know better, but they don’t.

STEPHEN: Then they’re not as smart as they think they are.

SAM: Smart isn’t magic, Stephen. It’s just smart.

GLORY: That is not how the story ends.

SAM: (Quite intense.) It is how the story ends. The princess got old and the frog croaked.

(As Glory stares at him.)

SAM: Get another book, Stephen.

STEPHEN: (Getting what he thinks Sam means.) Go away, Stephen.

SAM: No. Come back. But no more fairy tales. There are some good books up there. Call of the Wild. Lord of the Flies. Read about Donner Pass. (Stephen jumps down off the wall and goes into the house. There is a moment of silence.)

GLORY: (After Stephen has gone.) Is that your idea of help?

SAM: What?

GLORY: You, the frog, married me, the princess, and Humpty Dumpty was a hit-and-run.

SAM: He’s old enough to know what happens.

GLORY: Nobody’s old enough to know what you think happens.

SAM: I refuse to lie to him. He could live a long time hoping it will all work out.

GLORY: He could live a long time having it all work out, unless you convince him it’s impossible and he doesn’t even try.

SAM: What do you want me to say?

GLORY: Life is good.

SAM: When?

GLORY: All the time!

SAM: Like today, for example.

GLORY: No, not like today. People don’t die every day.

SAM: Oh Glory, I’m afraid they do.

GLORY: Not people you know.

SAM: Oh, I see. It doesn’t count if we don’t know them.

GLORY: It doesn’t hurt if we don’t know them.

SAM: It doesn’t matter, you mean.

GLORY: No, I don’t mean that.

SAM: What do you mean?

GLORY: You tell him the wrong things.

SAM: I tell him the truth.

GLORY: And he believes you!

SAM: Well, I can’t help that.

GLORY: He’s a child!

SAM: I want a divorce.

GLORY: I want this day to be over.

SAM: (After a moment.) I do want a divorce. I want to leave here in the morning and take Stephen with me.

GLORY: You can go for the weekend, Sam, but Stephen has school on Monday.

SAM: Since we’re having one funeral anyway, we might as well have the other one and be done with it. When we all wake up, this will all be over.

GLORY: What is the matter with you?

(Stephen opens the porch door, but they don’t hear him. He starts to come down the steps, but then realizes what this conversation is about. He goes back up the steps, climbs quietly over the railing and sits, out of sight, behind a tree.)

SAM: I just never stopped to think about it, I guess. It doesn’t make sense, this marriage. It never has. Ask your mother.

GLORY: It works well enough, Sam. It calms you down, and it keeps me from getting too comfortable. And no, we don’t always agree on things…

SAM: We don’t ever agree on things.

GLORY: But it’s good for Stephen to hear both sides.

SAM: No. It confuses him. I’ll tell Dad tonight, and in the morning I’ll go over and tell your mother and then I’ll get Stephen and go. I’ll send you as much money as you need and you can have everything we own. All the houses, all the cars, everything.

GLORY: That’s ridiculous.

SAM: Okay. I’ll keep the cars. (There is a long silence.)

GLORY: (Finally.) You’re serious!

SAM: Always have been. (Then overly cheerful.) I thought you knew that.

GLORY: You’re upset.

SAM: True.

GLORY: I mean you’re upset about Mavis. You don’t think you can work without Mavis. Well, leaving me isn’t going to bring Mavis back to you.

SAM: Mavis has nothing to do with this.

GLORY: Nice work, doctor. Quick and clean. You find the tumor and you cut it out. You don’t even need your fancy table or your hotshot team for this surgery, do you? You’re so good, you can do it in the backyard.

SAM: Wherever.

GLORY: Look. Let’s just get through the funeral, okay? And then if you still feel this way we’ll talk about it when we get home.

SAM: I don’t want to talk about it. I want to quit. I want to go somewhere else. I want to start over.

GLORY: Life doesn’t start over. It starts, it goes on for a while, then it stops.

SAM: God that’s gloomy.

GLORY: I sound like you!

SAM: No you don’t. I would never say that. Mavis didn’t have to die. There was a time she could have done something about it. This is that time for Stephen and me.

GLORY: You can’t leave me.

SAM: You’ll be okay. Move back here if you want. I know your mother has room out there.

GLORY: Of course I’ll be okay. I’m talking about you. Do you have any idea what it takes to live your life?

SAM: I can probably figure it out.

GLORY: I know you can’t take care of Stephen.

SAM: Stephen is old enough to take care of himself.

GLORY: Stephen would end up taking care of you. And you’re important, so somebody should do all the things that allow you to work, but it shouldn’t be Stephen.

SAM: We’ll share it. I’ll help him. He’ll help me.

GLORY: I think we better wait till we get home to talk about this.

SAM: I think we’re talking about it already.

GLORY: The answer is no.

SAM: Yes, well, it wasn’t really a question, Glory.

GLORY: I’m going inside.

SAM: I’m not.

GLORY: Fine.

SAM: (Staring at the goose.) There once was a woman called Nothing-At-All Who rejoiced in a dwelling exceedingly small.

A man stretched his mouth to its utmost extent

And down in a gulp both house and woman went.

(Stephen appears from behind the tree. He is holding a framed photo and another fairy-tale book.)

STEPHEN: (Pointing to the photo.) Is this you, Dad?

SAM: (Startled by his presence.) Stephen!

STEPHEN: Is this you in this picture?

SAM: (Staring at the photo.) Yes.

STEPHEN: Who is this with you?

SAM: That’s Mother…and that’s…Mavis.

STEPHEN: And it’s Halloween I hope.

SAM: Yes.

STEPHEN: What were you? I can’t tell.

SAM: Elves.

STEPHEN: Did Mavis tell you I lost her cat?

SAM: I gave her that cat.

STEPHEN: I know. I’m sorry, Dad.

SAM: When was this?

STEPHEN: Last Saturday. After the movies we went back to her apartment, and I asked Mavis if I could let Peaches out, only Mavis didn’t hear me because she went in the bedroom to rest a little bit. But Peaches kept crying and scratching at the back door. So I opened it and she got away. When Mavis woke up, we looked and looked, but we couldn’t find her anywhere. (Pause.) I guess Mavis didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you to be mad at me.

SAM: It’s all right, Stephen. Cats just…go like that.

STEPHEN: Maybe Peaches knew something was wrong.

SAM: Maybe she did. (Pause.) Stephen, your mother and I were just talking—

STEPHEN: (Quietly.) I guess your birthday’s going to be pretty lonely this year.

SAM: (Pause.) Yes. I guess it will be.

STEPHEN: I wouldn’t like it if I had the same birthday as somebody. I mean, I know there are plenty of people born on the same day as me, but—

SAM: People used to ask Mavis where she met me, you know, and she’d say, “Oh, at the hospital. In the nursery.” And then she’d say, “I hadn’t been alive two hours when in came Sam Carter screaming at me already.” (Pause.) That’s a picture I’d like to see, all right. Dad and Mavis’s dad staring through the glass window looking at the two of us side by side in our little beds. One howling boy for the preacher, and one rosy-faced dumpling for the custodian at the church.

STEPHEN: Mavis wasn’t fat, Dad.

SAM: No. But I did have the idea that she put on her uniform in the morning, and then stepped on an air pump to puff herself up for the day.

STEPHEN: I’m not going to like Saturday much either.

SAM: She loved you so much, Stephen. You were the only little boy she had. You were so good to her, you gave her so much.

STEPHEN: All we ever talked about was you, Dad.

SAM: Yeah, well, she just loved to talk, Stephen. And I didn’t leave her time to learn anything else. (Pause.) It never occurred to me that she would die, Stephen. It just didn’t seem like something she’d do. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you, I should have known it, my mother died, didn’t she? I guess I just forgot.

STEPHEN: Yeah.

SAM: Well…

STEPHEN: Why do people read these books?

SAM: What?

STEPHEN: I know you told me not to read any more, but I was taking it back upstairs and I didn’t get this one either.

SAM: Which one?

STEPHEN: I think Sleeping Beauty’s father was a fool.

SAM: All right. But don’t just say he was a fool. Prove it to me. Build your case.

STEPHEN: He gives a party for his daughter and he invites twelve of the thirteen fairies in the land. Twelve good fairies he invites. He does not invite the thirteenth fairy.

SAM: Because she’s a bad fairy, that’s right.

STEPHEN: But the bad fairy comes anyway, and now she acts even worse because she wasn’t invited. “I have a gift for the little princess,” she says. “When she is eighteen, she will prick her finger on a spinning wheel and die.”

SAM: That’s how it goes, all right.

STEPHEN: It’s ridiculous. If you know you have a thirteenth fairy living in your country, and you know what she can do, then how, exactly, can you forget to invite her to a party?

SAM: Well…

STEPHEN: How did anybody that dumb get to be king?

SAM: He wasn’t dumb. He just forgot.

STEPHEN: He forgets there’s a bad fairy living there and look what happens. Everybody sleeps for a hundred years, till he wakes up with his kingdom turned into a jungle and some prince upstairs kissing his daughter.

SAM: (Strangely affected by this story.) He forgot because he didn’t want to remember! He didn’t want her to come to the party! The last person you want at that party is that thirteenth fairy. So you just hope she doesn’t show up because you know if she does show up, there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.

STEPHEN: (Reacting to his fathers anger.) It’s just a story, Dad.

SAM: Yeah, I know. That’s why I never let you read them.

STEPHEN: But you read them.

SAM: (Disclaiming all responsibility.) Mother read them to me. (Almost a confession.) And then, when I learned how, yes, I would read them to her. (Pause.) Every day when I came home from school, here she’d be, with a glass of milk for me and a pile of things she’d found in the ground that day, like dragons’ teeth, witches’ fingers, and fallen stars. (Then remembering so clearly.) I would sit, there, where you are, and she would work. And we would sing. Her favorite Mother Goose was page twenty.

(He sings as Stephen is looking for it.)

SAM: We’re all in the dumps

For diamonds are trumps,

The kittens have gone to St. Paul’s.

The babies are bit,

The moon’s in a fit

And the houses are built without walls.

STEPHEN: The houses are built without walls?

SAM: Yes.

STEPHEN: How could they stand up?

SAM: (Suddenly very distant.) She died before I could ask her that, Stephen.

STEPHEN: What was she like?

SAM: She was the gingerbread lady. Curly red hair and shiny round eyes and a big checked apron. Fat, pink fingers, a sweet vanilla smell, and all the time in the world. Sing to you, dance with you, write your name on the top of a cake.

STEPHEN: Did she die all of a sudden like Mavis?

SAM: Mother was sick for a long time, Stephen, but sick or not, everybody dies all of a sudden.

STEPHEN: I guess that was pretty hard, too, huh?

SAM: It was awful. I took it, well, like it happened to me instead of to her. I wouldn’t eat. I broke things. But now, well, if she hadn’t died, I’d be the biggest momma’s boy you ever saw.

(Everett enters from the side of the house. He walks with some difficulty, but he’s keeping his spirits up with an extraordinary act of will.)

EVERETT: Samuel!

SAM: Hello, Dad.

(They embrace, but it is difficult for them.)

SAM: (A bit awkward.) I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.

EVERETT: (Pulling away.) You did your best, didn’t you?

SAM: Yes.

EVERETT: Well, that’s all anybody expects, Sam. (Shifting his attention to Stephen.) Hello, Stephen. Remember me?

STEPHEN: It’s only been a year, Grandpa. (Stephen gives him a small hug.)

EVERETT: Where’s your mother?

STEPHEN: Inside. Want me to go get her?

EVERETT: I’m glad she’s here.

SAM: You knew she would come, Dad. (He helps Everett.) Here. Sit down.

EVERETT: I’m fine. I’m fine. Are you all right?

SAM: I’m fine.

EVERETT: You look tired, Sam.

SAM: I’m not tired, Dad. I’m just grown up.

EVERETT: I miss seeing you, son.

SAM: I’m sorry, Dad. They keep me pretty busy these days.

EVERETT: Oh I know. Mavis told me. (His fatherly pride showing.) She said you could do things nobody else even thought of. She said there were dead people standing in line at the water fountain because of you. She sent me all the clippings. I liked that one about the governor. That was a good picture of you.

(No response from Sam.)

EVERETT: Oh how she loved you, son. “Well,” she’d say, “we had another miracle today.”

(Another long silence.)

SAM: How was your other funeral? Who was it?

EVERETT: (Glad to have something else to talk about.) Connie Richards. I told her to come see you when she first got sick, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She said you were too famous. You were too far away.

(Sam does not answer.)

EVERETT: She felt the same way about God. But I guess she figured she didn’t have to get on the bus to go see Him.

(Everett reaches down to pat Sam, but he moves away, and Everett goes over to pat Stephen. He just needs to pat somebody, and Stephen is too polite to resist.)

STEPHEN: Where did you tell them she went, at the funeral?

SAM: Stephen, Grandpa’s sermons are his business. He says what he has to say.

EVERETT: I told them she went to heaven.

STEPHEN: Why did you have to say that?

EVERETT: (Ignoring Sam’s silencing look.) Because that’s where she went.

STEPHEN: (Doesn’t believe this for a minute.) And that’s where she is right now, singing and flying around? It sounds like fairy tales to me.

EVERETT: Oh no, God’s heard enough of her singing already. He’ll have her light the candles or something.

STEPHEN: (A conspiratorial look at Sam.) They have candles in heaven? Isn’t it too windy for candles?

EVERETT: If God wants a candle to stay lit, it stays lit. What they don’t have in heaven is matches. But then, angels don’t need matches. They just put their pointer finger up to it, like so, and poof, it’s lit.

STEPHEN: (Much simpler, actually childlike.) How do they do that?

EVERETT: (Sounding more like the wizard he is.) It’s because they’re pure spirit now, Stephen. The life in them is like sparks, like fireworks. Oh, they could really light up the sky if they felt like it, but they don’t want to show off, you know. They don’t want people dying down here just to get in on the fun. But now, shooting stars…

STEPHEN: Meteors, you mean.

EVERETT: Right. That’s somebody new up there. Somebody hasn’t quite figured out how to control themselves. (Suddenly flinging his arms out wide.) Pow!

STEPHEN: Great!

SAM: (Quietly, but firmly.) Stephen, go find your mother. Tell her Grandpa’s here.

(Stephen leaves.)

SAM: (After a moment.) That’s enough, Dad.

EVERETT: Don’t be mad at me, boy. I can’t help talking about angels. I just know so many of them, now.

SAM: (Being careful not to get angry.) I don’t want you telling Stephen there’s a heaven and a hell, because if you do, I’ll have to tell him who it is who assigns the rooms.

EVERETT: You do want him on the right waiting list, don’t you?

SAM: I don’t want him thinking about it at all. (Then more calm.) Let’s just say, if there is a hell, if Stephen does go to hell, I’d like for it to be a surprise.

EVERETT: No grandson of mine is going to hell.

SAM: No grandson of anybody’s is going to hell. There is no hell. There is no heaven. Life is summer camp and death is lights out. It’s all just over, Dad. Time’s up. The end. You lose.

EVERETT: Is that what you tell their families at the hospital?

SAM: What is there to say?

EVERETT: There’s comfort.

SAM: There’s all your friends waiting for you? There’s your Heavenly Father with His arms open wide? No, no. I’ve been straight with them all along, so I’m not about to get to the end and lie. I do what I can and then we both just quit.

EVERETT: Mavis would never quit.

SAM: Mavis quit before I did. I briefed the team, I opened her up, but what did I find? Her bags were packed. She was checking out. She was going, as you say, home. No, I keep them out of God’s hands as long as possible, so you just keep your sermons to yourself.

EVERETT: (Carefully.) Was Mavis in any pain?

SAM: No.

EVERETT: Did she…know it was happening?

SAM: No.

EVERETT: So she couldn’t give you any…message for me.

SAM: No. (Then trying to concentrate on something else.) But she just bought a new car. I know she’d want you to have it. It has power steering and everything. We drove it down here for you. That’s it… (Motioning in that direction.) out in the driveway.

EVERETT: I appreciate the thought, son, but I don’t think I could… (Pause.) No. You were right to bring it.

SAM: Glory packed up all her clothes and put them in the trunk. We thought there might be people around here who could use them. Everything else, furniture and everything, was rented. Except her TV, and I took that in for the nurses’ lounge. So, it’s all done, I think.

EVERETT: That part’s done, anyway. (He notices the picture Stephen brought out before.) Anything I have—of hers, you know—you can have it if you want it. I’d like to keep her letters, but after I die, they’ll be yours too, of course, like everything else I have. Do you want this picture?

SAM: Stephen found it.

EVERETT: I always liked this one. (Hoping Sam will say no.) You don’t want it, do you?

SAM: No.

EVERETT: Yes, I guess you have plenty of pictures of the two of you. They’re probably all up and down the halls at the hospital.

SAM: Can we talk about something else?

EVERETT: I’m sorry, son. Just all those years of her hanging around you, I think of her as part of the family. Probably thought she’d be part of the family someday.

SAM: She loved you, Dad, not me.

EVERETT: Oh, she loved you, all right. If it hadn’t been for you, she’d be right here, working at County General.

SAM: She was too good for your little hospital.

EVERETT: But not good enough for you.

SAM: We don’t have to have this argument anymore, Dad. Mavis is not yours and she’s not mine. She’s dead.

(Stephen enters with a book of illustrated Bible stories.)

STEPHEN: Hey, I like this one about the whale. What does it mean? This guy, Jonah, gets swallowed by a whale and then the whale throws him up.

EVERETT: It means you can’t run away from God, Stephen.

SAM: (Annoyed that Everett is talking religion again.) No, Stephen, it means you shouldn’t go to sea in too small a boat.

(Glory comes out, wearing an apron and drying her hands on a dish towel.)

GLORY: Hello, Everett.

(They embrace.)

EVERETT: Glory Butler, you are still the prettiest girl in ten counties.

GLORY: Are you doing all right, Everett?

EVERETT: Yes I am, thank you.

GLORY: (Remembering how distant this man can be.) I hope you don’t have this too often, two funerals in one day.

EVERETT: (Making an effort to talk to her.) Your mother was at the one this morning.

GLORY: How’d she look?

EVERETT: Rich.

GLORY: She does like to show it off, doesn’t she?

EVERETT: All she could talk about were her two new fillies—both jumpers, she said. And she’s got a new exercise boy. He was…there with her today.

GLORY: (A knowing smile.) Was he all dressed up, or was he just driving the car?

EVERETT: (Confirming her worst fears.) All dressed up.

GLORY: She’s so funny. When Daddy died, she walked me up to the casket, held my hand and said, “Glory, I’m never going to be lonely again.”

(Glory laughs and Everett smiles.)

EVERETT: I told her you were coming down for Mavis’s funeral, but she said she wouldn’t bother you here. (A pause.) Our house always was a little plain for her.

GLORY: I made us some sandwiches. They’re on the counter if you want one.

EVERETT: I should eat something I guess. Don’t you want one, Sam?

(No response from Sam.)

GLORY: We’ll be there in a minute. (Pause.) I straightened up your kitchen a little. I hope you don’t mind.

EVERETT: No. Just so you put it back the way it was before you leave.

GLORY: Everett, I was just trying to help. I’m sorry.

EVERETT: (Walking toward Stephen.) I know Stephen’s hungry, aren’t you?

STEPHEN: Grandpa?

EVERETT: What, son?

STEPHEN: If the people in heaven are all spirit, if they don’t have any flesh anymore, how does God know who’s who?

EVERETT: (Putting his arm around Stephen, and walking him out of the garden.) Spirit’s how God tells us apart anyway, Stephen. When we get to heaven, why as far as He’s concerned, we haven’t changed a bit.

(Glory is left alone with Sam. Sam has a pair of snippers from the tool chest and is cutting the weeds that have grown up around the wall.)

GLORY: I’m beginning to see the garden now, Sam.

SAM: I don’t know why I’m doing this. He’ll just let it go again.

GLORY: Did you and Mavis play out here when you were kids?

SAM: (Putting the snippers down.) Maybe I’ve done enough.

GLORY: Where did your mother find these animals?

SAM: I don’t know.

GLORY: (As she picks one up.) Was she strong enough to carry them? They’re very heavy.

SAM: Please. (Taking it away from her.) Just leave them alone, okay?

GLORY: He won’t let me touch anything in the house, and you won’t let me touch anything out here. It’s just me, I guess, I mean, your mother was… allowed to work here, wasn’t she? Or maybe it’s a museum, or a shrine.

SAM: What’s the matter with you?

GLORY: (Has to laugh.) What’s the matter with me.

SAM: Did you call your mother?

GLORY: I did, in fact. I told her you were leaving in the morning and taking Stephen with you.

SAM: And what did she say?

GLORY: She said she would see you at the funeral and tell you good-bye.

SAM: So we’ll have something to talk about anyway.

GLORY: She said it was another woman. She said you and Mavis were…

SAM: …having an affair? No.

GLORY: Someone else, then. Do you want to leave me for another woman?

SAM: I don’t want another woman. I want you to be the woman I want.

GLORY: Can I have a straight answer please.

SAM: We’ve both had affairs. Haven’t we.

GLORY: Well, that’s it, I guess.

SAM: It what?

GLORY: The truth.

SAM: That is not the truth. That is just a fact. The truth is what the facts mean.

GLORY: I am so tired of your mind. You would’ve been so much better off without it.

SAM: I would have been nothing without it! With the exception of a mother who died and left me with the preacher, my mind is all I ever had. (He stops.) Except Stephen.

GLORY: (She shakes her head.) And your mother and Mavis and me.

SAM: Yes.

GLORY: Did you forget us for a moment?

SAM: No, I didn’t forget you. But it is getting easier. There’s only one of you left.

GLORY: What a lovely thing to say. What a great time we’re having here. Such a good reason to come home and such a spirit of love and understanding. Just relax, Glory. This will all blow over in just a little while. He’s always like this, but he’s not always so much like this.

SAM: I’m not always like this.

GLORY: No. When you’re sick, it’s worse. When you’re tired, it’s worse. But the rest of the time you are exactly like this. You just don’t notice it, because this is how you always are. Like I said.

SAM: Then why have you stayed with me.

GLORY: I don’t know, it’s not over yet. Something like that.

SAM: It is over.

GLORY: (Picking up the Sleeping Beauty book.) No, this is just the part where I sleep for a hundred years. Then the prince comes and I wake up.

SAM: Jesus Christ.

GLORY: I’m still here for two reasons. One is that you need me. And I have no idea why you need me but you do. I can feel it. I see it all the time. I don’t understand at all, but I have no doubt whatsoever.

SAM: And what is the other reason?

GLORY: The other reason is my business. And I’m not about to tell you when you’re threatening to leave me.

SAM: Well, I know it can’t be that you’re having a good time. You should’ve married that baseball player.

GLORY: If I had married Jerry Pine, I would’ve spent half my life at Yankee Stadium, wishing he wouldn’t chew tobacco, and hoping he won’t spit on national TV. (A pause.) Maybe I would have a better time without you. I could laugh and travel and give away Mother’s money, but you…well… This is not a job that just anybody could do, you know, putting up with you.

SAM: So this is your chance. I’m offering you a way out.

GLORY: I want a way in, Sam.

SAM: There isn’t any way in. There never was. You never had a chance. I married you to spite my father. (Pause.) There. Can you hate me now? Can I leave now?

GLORY: I know you loved me.

SAM: Do you?

GLORY: I know you love me now.

(He turns to go.)

GLORY: Where are you going?

SAM: (After a moment.) I have to find Stephen before Dad turns him into a Christian.

GLORY: Let them alone. You can’t change your father and you can’t protect Stephen from the entire world. It’s one thing to take away the television and give him Scientific American instead of Mother Goose, but Everett is his grandfather. Let them talk. Stephen can see what there is and decide for himself.

(Before Sam can answer, Everett comes back outside alone.)

EVERETT: Maybe you two been gone so long you forgot this, but we have a thing out here called respect for the dead.

GLORY: What?

EVERETT: And Glory, if you’re going to your mother’s, I wish you’d go on and go so we could have our funeral in peace.

GLORY: Everett, I don’t know what you’re—

EVERETT: Don’t you realize what you’re doing to that little boy?

GLORY: What did he tell you, Everett?

EVERETT: That he’s leaving tomorrow with Sam and you’re moving in with your mother. Is that right?

GLORY: He hears everything we say, Sam, I’ve told you that over and over again. Jesus Christ.

SAM: Why shouldn’t he know? I’m just sorry I didn’t tell him before he heard it through the wall, like that. He wasn’t surprised, I’m sure. Divorce is not exactly unknown in the world. Now that he knows the truth, he’ll feel better.

GLORY: (To Everett.) What did you say?

EVERETT: I didn’t know what to say. I said, “Maybe Mom is just lonesome for the country. She’ll get tired of it soon enough and be right back home, quick as quick.”

(Very strong, as Sam shakes his head.)

EVERETT: I said that to make him feel better. I wanted him to feel better.

SAM: And he believed you?

EVERETT: I saw him feel a little better, yes.

GLORY: Thank you, Everett. You did the right thing.

SAM: Cover it up, that’s right. Put a little Band-Aid on it. It worked with me, didn’t it? I have spent my life straightening out the lies people have told him. No, Stephen, there is no Santa Claus. No, Stephen, when you die, you do not go to heaven. No, Stephen, people won’t like you better because you’re smart, they’ll be afraid of you because you’re smart. No, Stephen, love is not forever, and God is not good. And tomorrow is not another day. Tomorrow is this day all over again.

EVERETT: Well, wasn’t he lucky to have you around.

GLORY: I’d better go find him.

EVERETT: I think that’s a good idea.

(Glory goes into the house and Everett and Sam are left alone.)

SAM: I don’t want to hear what you have to say about this, Dad. You don’t know what you’re talking about, and you’re not going to change my mind.

EVERETT: That’s as good a confession as I ever heard.

SAM: You never liked Glory in the first place. You should be happy I’m leaving her.

EVERETT: She’s a good girl, and she’s been a good mother to Stephen. Whatever is the matter between Glory and you…is probably you.

SAM: I see.

EVERETT: But it’s your boy who’ll end up paying for this, Sam.

SAM: Doesn’t seem fair, does it? Well, I’m sorry, Stephen, that’s just how God is. Suffer the little children to come unto me, for theirs is the wages of sin.

EVERETT: When somebody dies it makes everything hard, Sam, but what we all do is try not to make anything worse.

SAM: When somebody dies, you try to make it make a difference, make it mean something.

EVERETT: Sam, I never thought this marriage would work, you know that. But we’re having a funeral today. Can’t you take one day of your life to think about Mavis? God knows, you took everything else she had for your own use, but now you’re even taking her funeral. (Pause.) I’m sure she’s happy for you to have it, that’s just how she was, but it makes me mad, Sam. You make too much noise, son. You always did. Relax. Grieve.

SAM: No. This marriage was never right, and I want it straight now.

EVERETT: After the funeral, just leave Stephen with me for a few days, and you and Glory go down to Green River, work this thing out.

SAM: I don’t want to work it out. What could we work it out to? Back to where it was at the beginning? In the beginning was the word, and the word was pretend.

EVERETT: I saw that beginning, same as you, and there wasn’t any pretend about it. You were hopeless. You drooled around here for years until Glory called you with that math problem. Here was poor Mavis practically polishing your shoes to get your attention. But no, all you wanted was the pretty little rich girl, swimming in her own private lake out there. But how was she ever going to notice the preacher’s kid? So you took up cross-country, didn’t you? And pretty soon, you could run the ten miles out to her farm, and still have the breath to stand there and smile.

SAM: Why don’t you say what you mean. Divorce is a sin.

EVERETT: Sam, your mother used to say your marriage was like your favorite shirt. You could wear it day after day, and you could try to keep it clean, but sooner or later it was going to have to go in the wash. But as soon as it was clean, you could press it fresh, and put it back on, looking good as new.

SAM: I don’t have a favorite shirt. And I don’t need advice from you.

EVERETT: What does she say? Does she say “Whatever you want, Sam”?

SAM: She will. Glory will do what Stephen wants. Stephen wants to be with me.

EVERETT: Stephen will be ready to go home tomorrow morning. Glory may not have all the answers to his questions, like you do, but she’s home when he gets there.

SAM: That’s not enough.

EVERETT: If you leave her, you’ll lose him.

SAM: Stephen is mine. He always has been.

EVERETT: And you’re supposed to be so smart. (No response.) Maybe you ought to make a list of the things you don’t know, just for your own protection, see. (A pause.) Put this at the top.

SAM: This…what?

EVERETT: Boys and their mothers.

SAM: Whatever you say, Dad.

EVERETT: This is…a subject I took a few lessons in myself, Sam.

(Glory comes out onto the porch carrying a cup of coffee for Everett.)

GLORY: Sam? Don’t you want a sandwich? We should leave in twenty minutes.

SAM: No thanks. I don’t want to spoil my dinner.

(Stephen runs past her and down the steps.)

GLORY: Don’t get dirty now, Stephen. Watch where you sit.

(Stephen is carrying a Bible he has found inside. Glory follows him into the garden.)

STEPHEN: Dad, I found your Bible!

SAM: (Alarmed.) Glory, where—

STEPHEN: (Still very excited.) I thought it was Grandpa’s, but it’s yours!

GLORY: (To Sam.) In your old bedroom, I think.

STEPHEN: (Showing it to him.) See? It says Samuel Carter.

SAM: The church gives them away, Stephen.

STEPHEN: No, look, Dad! On the next page, it says—

SAM: (To Everett.) Did you give this to him?

(Everett shakes his head no.)

STEPHEN: See, it’s right here. It says August 27, 1949, Jesus came into my heart.

SAM: Well—

STEPHEN: Only you’ve got it spelled H-E-R-A-T. Jesus came into your heart before you could even spell it!

(Glory hands the coffee to Everett.)

SAM: I didn’t have any choice, Stephen. Night after night you sit there in the revival and every head is bowed and every eye is closed, and Dad is down there at the altar calling “Oh sinner, come home.” And people all around you are saying “Bless me Jesus, save me Lord.”

And the first night eight people go down and the second night twenty people go down, and the third night everybody in the whole third grade goes down, and those are the big kids, so I’m impressed. And you look up at Dad and he’s looking straight at you, saying “God see my boy, see my own dear child, speak to him, Lord,” and I heard it, all right. I couldn’t go home if I didn’t.

So before I could stop myself, I walked down the aisle, shaking and crying, saying “Here I am, Daddy.” I knelt down at the altar, and he put his hand on my head and said “Praise the Lord,” and I was saved. And he…was relieved. What kind of a preacher are you if you can’t save your own child?

EVERETT: I didn’t save you. He did.

SAM: Then after the service, we all waited for him in the front pew where he gave us all brand-new Bibles and had us turn to the front page and write down August 27, 1949—

SAM AND STEPHEN: —Jesus came into my heart.

STEPHEN: Did you read this?

EVERETT: He read it straight through before school even started that year.

SAM: I was too young to read, Dad. I just looked at the pictures, Stephen.

EVERETT: He knew hundreds of verses by heart. I’d be reading a verse in a sermon, and I’d look down at him in the front row, and he’d be mouthing the words right along with me.

SAM: Take it easy, Dad.

EVERETT: But I was so proud of you, son!

SAM: I know, but—

EVERETT: Stephen, we had Junior Church one Sunday a month, you know, where only the kids would come, and your dad started preaching there when he was only nine years old. By the time he was twelve, people all over the state had heard about him.

STEPHEN: You never told me you were a preacher, Dad.

EVERETT: That summer, at the revival, I announced in the newspaper that your dad was going to preach the sermon one night, and so many people came that there wasn’t enough room for them all in the tent, so we had to open up the sides so people could sit on the grass and see him. He talked about Abraham that night. Abraham and Isaac.

STEPHEN: (Finding the picture in the Bible.) Here’s Abraham right here. (Walking toward Sam.) But he’s killing his little boy.

SAM: That’s him all right. God says to Abraham, “If you really love me, you will sacrifice your son. You will build a fire, tie him to the top of it, slit his throat, say a prayer, and burn him up.”

STEPHEN: Why?

EVERETT: The Lord was testing Abraham, Stephen.

SAM: The Lord was bored, Stephen. He was just looking for something to do.

EVERETT: Oh no. God had big plans for Abraham. And He had to make sure Abraham was the right man for the job.

STEPHEN: Is this God, here, in the clouds?

SAM: There’s a much better picture of Him on page fifty-eight. That’s Him in the burning bush.

STEPHEN: And He isn’t burned up?

EVERETT: He is the fire.

STEPHEN: He is?

EVERETT: God really knows how to get your attention, all right.

SAM: He’s lonely, Stephen. He sits and waits for somebody to notice Him, and then, when they don’t, or when they don’t notice Him enough, well, He plays His little tricks, He gives His little tests.

EVERETT: He has His reasons for His tests.

SAM: That’s what you said when Mother died. God is testing us, son. God has His reasons, only we can’t know what they are.

EVERETT: God didn’t kill her.

SAM: He just let her die. He took her back. He was only kidding. She wasn’t mine. She was His.

GLORY: Stephen, why don’t you take the Bible inside. We don’t want it to get—

SAM: She died when I was about your age, Stephen. About a month after my preaching triumph. But we didn’t call it dying, did we, Dad? We just said God was missing her something awful and she went on back where she belonged, didn’t we?

EVERETT: Yes, we did. And I don’t know how He got along without her for as long as He did.

STEPHEN: I don’t understand. Could God have saved Granny if He wanted to?

EVERETT: Yes, Stephen.

STEPHEN: Then why didn’t He?

EVERETT: We do not understand everything that happens, but if we believe He loves us, we don’t need to understand. Understanding is His work, not ours.

SAM: That’s right. He sets it up, we live through it, and He writes it down. What we think of as life, Stephen, is just God gathering material for another book.

STEPHEN: Was God missing Mavis too?

SAM: Stephen—

EVERETT: (Quickly.) I don’t know, Stephen. But I do know He has His mysterious ways of working things out. Your daddy is a doctor today because his mother died when he was so young.

SAM: Jesus Christ.

EVERETT: They worked puzzles on her bed right up to the day she died. I’d come in to check on her, and she’d be asleep, but your dad would be reading Mother Goose to her like she could hear every word. He worked real hard but he couldn’t save her. He was just a boy.

SAM: Jesus God.

EVERETT: But now, every time he goes into that operating room, God gives him another chance. How many people are alive today because of him! Hundreds! Thousands maybe. Praise be to the power and the wisdom of the Almighty God.

SAM: You are a hopeless old fool!

GLORY: Sam, you apologize to your father!

SAM: God is not in control.

GLORY: Please, Sam, remember what we’re doing here.

SAM: I will not have Stephen walk into that funeral believing God has some reason for this! (He turns to Stephen.) He’s lying to you, Stephen. He lied to me and now he’s lying to you and I won’t have it! God had nothing to do with Mavis dying. It just happened. It was a goddamn rotten thing to happen, but God didn’t do it. No. God is not in control and hasn’t been in control for some time. (He pauses and shifts into the master storyteller he can be.) He lost it…over Job. God made a bet with the Devil and lost it all.

(Glory shakes her head and wanders off a bit. Sam relaxes a little, now that he has won.)

SAM: The Devil said, “Sure Job loves you. Why shouldn’t he? He’s the richest man on earth. But you take all that away, and he won’t pray to you then, no sir.”

Well, God just had to find out. So in one afternoon, He killed all his sheep, all his camels, all his oxes and his asses and his daughters and his sons. And Job still prayed. So the next afternoon, God set a fire that burned up his house and everything in it, turned all his friends against him, sat Job down in the ashes and gave him leprosy.

And even then, Job prayed. Job suffered more than any man had ever suffered. As much, in fact, as God had ever suffered. And when God realized that Job could suffer just as well as He could, everything changed. For God saw that He had sinned, but Job loved Him still. And in that moment, God found God, and it was man.

And ever since that time, God has been up there believing in us with all His heart, believing we can do whatever we want, and wondering why, exactly, we do what we do. We must have our reasons, but He can’t, for the life of Him, figure out what they are.

So He watches, but He can’t help us. So He weeps. All God can do now is cry. The oceans, Stephen, are the tears God has cried since Job.

GLORY: (Coming back.) We need to go, Sam.

SAM: (Continuing.) God is not in control. We are. There is no heaven, there is no hell. There is this life, created, in your case, by your mother and me. Life on earth, which we can make better through careful thought and hard work. But we make the progress, and we make the mistakes. Not God. God has nothing to do with this, so there is no point in believing in Him. He’s just another fairy-tale king, as far as I’m concerned. If you want to believe, believe in yourself. In your power, in your mind, in your life. This life. Because that’s all there is.

(Everett looks at his watch, then straightens his tie.)

GLORY: (Coming quickly to be near Stephen.) That’s all your father thinks there is, Stephen. But he really doesn’t know. Other people… (Her anger is making it hard for her to talk.) find other things. Other people believe other things. And it makes them feel…different. Better.

SAM: Well, what can I say after that.

EVERETT: (Standing up.) Maybe you can tell me what to say at this funeral.

SAM: No thanks.

EVERETT: I’ll say it was an accident, how’s that? I’ll say it was a stupid mistake that somebody made. And we won’t pray, of course, but we will sing. Something like “Moon River,” you know, whatever we feel like. It doesn’t matter what we do, does it, Sam? It doesn’t mean a thing.

SAM: I don’t know, Dad. It’s your show.

EVERETT: This is no show!

SAM: It is a show and you know it.

EVERETT: Well I’ll tell you one thing, boy. My show works.

SAM: Oh, you think so, do you?

EVERETT: Yes I do. My show works. It works so well that you—yes, even you— have come home to see it. Haven’t you?

SAM: (Brushing off his pants.) We need to take two cars.

GLORY: No we don’t.

SAM: I’m not going to the supper. I don’t want anybody coming up to me with coleslaw on their plate. I don’t have anything to say about it.

GLORY: Stephen, go with your father, then, and I’ll take Grandpa.

STEPHEN: Am I going with Dad forever, or just to the funeral?

SAM: I want you to do both those things, Stephen. I want you with me. Some new town, some other place. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself, but I wanted to—

GLORY: Stephen, do you remember what I told you inside?

STEPHEN: Yes.

GLORY: All right, then.

EVERETT: Let’s go, Glory.

GLORY: I’m ready. (To Sam.) You are coming.

SAM: Yes. We’re coming.

(After Everett and Glory have left, Sam puts on his suit jacket.)

SAM: What did she tell you inside?

STEPHEN: She said I shouldn’t worry about it. She said you were just upset. She said everything would be all right.

SAM: Did she say how it would get that way?

STEPHEN: No.

SAM: She just believes it will.

STEPHEN: That’s what she said.

SAM: Funny, huh?

STEPHEN: I don’t know.

SAM: (Straightening Stephen’s hair.) Well, we can talk about it some more tonight. You’re a real smart boy, and you’ll just think your way through it. Just like any other problem. And you’ll make your decision.

STEPHEN: Do I look all right?

SAM: You look good.

STEPHEN: So do you.

SAM: Thanks. Okay. (Looking at Stephen.) Do we have a handkerchief?

STEPHEN: (Pats his pocket.) Mom gave me some Kleenex.

SAM: Okay, then. Here we go. (Then quietly.) God help us.

(They walk offstage.)

END OF ACT I

 

ACT II

The lights come up, but they are not bright. It is sometime after midnight. Sam wanders into the garden and looks up at the house. There is only one light on, in that little room at the top of the house. Sam whistles the little tune he sang for Stephen in the first act and the light goes out. He sits down on the wall. Stephen opens the back door and walks out. Stephen is wearing his pajamas and a big sweater.

SAM: (As Stephen sits beside him.) Hello, Stephen.

STEPHEN: I waited up for you.

SAM: Yeah. I saw. What time did you get home?

STEPHEN: I don’t know. Eight-thirty, something like that.

SAM: Is everybody asleep?

STEPHEN: I don’t know. They probably think I’m asleep and I’m not, so I probably think they’re asleep and they’re not. Grandpa was pretty tired. He might be asleep.

SAM: Did you see Granny Butler at the supper?

STEPHEN: She told me I needed a haircut.

SAM: What do you think?

STEPHEN: I told her she smelled like bug candles.

SAM: And what did she say to that?

STEPHEN: She said she liked it. She said it kept the bugs away.

SAM: So. What time did you get home? (Then remembering.) Oh, I’m sorry. You already told me that. Let’s see. Did you talk to anybody else?

STEPHEN: Not really. This one lady asked me if I ever met Mavis. I said yes and she asked me if I wanted a coke. (Pause.) But everybody was talking to Grandpa, like Mavis was almost his daughter or something.

SAM: She was, in a way. (Pause.) You know what he did for her? (Then realizing what he is about to tell.) If I tell you this, you’ve got to promise me not to let him know you know. I mean, you can’t ask him for it.

STEPHEN: What is it?

SAM: Well, Mavis’s father was the custodian at the church, and her mother worked late, so when she was little, Mavis was always hanging around the church after school. And Dad didn’t want her to feel she was any less than me, you know, so… (An odd pause.) Dad sent off for the books, and learned some magic tricks for Mavis. Not big tricks, but…making a salt shaker disappear, things like that. And it was their secret, but I found out, of course. Mavis told me. So I went right in and asked him to do it for me, but he said, “What are you talking about? I can’t do any magic tricks.” But I badgered him for a solid week until one night at supper, he gave in, picked up the salt shaker and said, “Watch close now.”

STEPHEN: Terrific!

SAM: No. Not so terrific. I watched too close, I guess. I saw how it worked and ran around the table to his jacket pocket, reached in and pulled out the salt shaker. I said, “Don’t put it in your pocket, Dad. Make it disappear.”

STEPHEN: You spoiled it.

SAM: Yes. (Pause.) Well. What were you reading upstairs?

STEPHEN: Donner Pass.

SAM: (Laughs a little.) Oh yes. The Family Picnic.

STEPHEN: Come on, Dad. Did they really eat each other? Got caught in a blizzard and ate each other?

SAM: That’s all they had, Stephen. They had to eat.

STEPHEN: But they died anyway, the Donner Pass people. They ate each other up and it didn’t save them.

SAM: They did what they thought they had to do. They didn’t know it wouldn’t save them. (Pause.) But the whole trip was like that. Day after day, they’d left things behind, thrown out beds and chests and tools and toys…to make the wagons lighter, so they could travel faster…so they could get to Donner Pass.

STEPHEN: If they threw everything out, what did they think they would live on once they got there?

SAM: They thought it was enough just to get there. They thought they were smart enough to figure it out, whatever it was, up the road. It’s a pretty standard American idea. All you need is your brain. Then if all you have is your brain, well…you can eat it.

STEPHEN: Can we go there sometime? I bet there’s a marker, isn’t there? Donner Pass Memorial Park or something.

SAM: Sure, Stephen. (As if reading it.) In memory of the families who died by the side of the road, because the things that would have saved them were too heavy to carry such a long way.

STEPHEN: Didn’t anybody tell them what could happen?

SAM: Yeah, probably. But they didn’t listen. Other people get caught in blizzards and have to eat their families, not me. I’m smart.

STEPHEN: Not smart enough, huh.

SAM: Nobody is smart enough.

STEPHEN: Somebody out there might be. Some spaceman.

SAM: I don’t think so, Stephen.

STEPHEN: (A bit disappointed.) Why not?

SAM: See that cloud? Straight across the sky, there?

STEPHEN: Yeah.

SAM: It’s not a cloud. It’s us. It’s the Milky Way. You can’t see it in the city, but out here, you can. (Pause.) The earth spins around the sun, while the sun spins around the center of the Milky Way, while the Milky Way chases Andromeda going like a billion miles an hour. We’re the spacemen, Stephen.

STEPHEN: (After a moment.) Is there a center of everything?

SAM: The Big Bang Theory says there was one, but it blew up.

STEPHEN: Grandpa would say God did it, God lit the fuse.

SAM: Yes. He would.

STEPHEN: Did He?

(Sam doesn’t answer.)

STEPHEN: Is there a God, Dad?

SAM: (Taking Stephen in his arms.) When I am out here, on this wall, in this garden, looking up at the sky, I think, yes, there is something out there. I actually want there to be something out there. I want there to be a God, and I don’t want it to be me.

STEPHEN: Are you feeling better, Dad?

SAM: I’m sorry about all this, Stephen. But once we get going…First thing in the morning, we’ll put all our things in Mavis’s car and take off. Dad doesn’t want it he said. So we might as well take it, don’t you think, like she left us a getaway car. When we stop for the night, you can call your mother if you want, and just see if she can guess where we are.

STEPHEN: I don’t want to move, Dad.

SAM: You want to stay with your mother, you mean.

STEPHEN: I don’t want you to leave us.

SAM: We’ll go someplace wonderful. Northern California, maybe, with the ocean out the front door, and the redwoods out the back. And we could get a horse if you want. I always wanted a horse.

STEPHEN: I can’t leave, Dad. Mom needs me. She doesn’t have anybody.

SAM: Stephen, your mother has more friends than the Red Cross.

STEPHEN: (Getting up off the wall now.) It’s not the same thing. She needs me.

SAM: No, you’re right. That’s true. She does. I need you too, but…she said it first, huh?

STEPHEN: Don’t you love Mom anymore?

SAM: I guess not.

STEPHEN: What did she do?

SAM: Nothing.

STEPHEN: Did you love her when you married her?

SAM: Yes.

STEPHEN: Did she change?

SAM: No.

STEPHEN: Did you change?

SAM: No, not really.

STEPHEN: So what happened to it?

SAM: Stephen, there will be days when it doesn’t matter that you’re smart. When it won’t help. When your extraordinary mind is of no use whatsoever. When all it will do is tell you how bad things are.

STEPHEN: But you told me to think about it.

SAM: Yes, but… (Struggling here.) You can’t think about this the way you would any other problem. You can’t just add up the numbers and read the result, because it doesn’t work that way. It’s like you wanted to open a bottle of beer, but all you had to use was your calculator. It wouldn’t work. You need to use something else.

STEPHEN: I would sell the calculator and buy a bottle opener.

(No response from Sam.)

STEPHEN: I would go next door and borrow a bottle opener.

SAM: I would call upstairs and ask your mother where she hid the bottle opener.

STEPHEN: She didn’t hide it. You just didn’t look. You never look. You’re out of the house for eight hours and you act like we’ve taken all the stuff out of the cabinets and hidden it away like a treasure hunt. (Imitating Sam’s call.) Glory, where’s the peanut butter?

SAM: (Defending himself.) I just got home. I’m tired. I don’t want to go looking. I want the peanut butter.

STEPHEN: (Very angry.) It’s in the basement. It’s in a box marked Dad’s Old Shoes.

SAM: What does she do? Hold little indoctrination sessions with you?

STEPHEN: I don’t want to move, Dad.

SAM: We don’t even have to stay in this country, you know. We could go to South America and become river rats. Or how about Africa. Spend the whole day outside.

STEPHEN: So what would I do? Wait outside the hut all day for you to come home?

SAM: You’d go to school.

STEPHEN: I already go to school. And I already sit and wait for you to come home and I already don’t like it. I wouldn’t like it any better in Africa.

SAM: I’ll come home.

STEPHEN: No you won’t.

SAM: We’ll go fishing.

STEPHEN: No we won’t, Dad.

SAM: I love you, Stephen.

STEPHEN: If you could stop loving Mom, you could stop loving me.

SAM: No, Stephen. Your children are not the same as your wife or your husband.

STEPHEN: Your children are an accident.

SAM: Stephen!

STEPHEN: You didn’t want any children at all. I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Mom.

SAM: Did she tell you that?

STEPHEN: No, but it’s true, isn’t it. Isn’t it!

SAM: Yes. But I didn’t know I would get you. If I had known it was you, I’d have wanted you.

(No response from Stephen.)

SAM: I know I’ve been gone too much and never taken any time off, but I want to change all that. I want to be with you now.

STEPHEN: You don’t want to do anything but work and you can’t even do that right. What kind of doctor are you if you can’t save your own nurse? (Suddenly the back-porch light comes on and Everett steps out.)

EVERETT: Stephen? Are you out there?

SAM: (More quiet, but more intense.) Stephen, I didn’t kill Mavis. You don’t understand.

EVERETT: (Calling again.) Stephen!

STEPHEN: (To Sam.) What’s there to understand? She’s dead.

EVERETT: (To Glory, who is in the kitchen.) They’re outside, Glory.

SAM: Stephen, medicine doesn’t always work.

STEPHEN: Then it might as well be magic, Dad.

SAM: Stephen, people die all the time. People have to die sometime.

(Everett walks out into the garden.)

STEPHEN: (Louder than necessary.) And it’s no big deal, huh.

EVERETT: (Hearing him.) There you are. We thought we lost you.

SAM: (Sees his father, but keeps talking.) It’s sad, Stephen, but no, it’s not any big deal.

STEPHEN: (Standing up.) Well, if it’s not any big deal when people die, then it’s not any big deal when they live, or where they live, so I’m living with Mom.

(Everett sits down, making Sam even more uncomfortable.)

SAM: Stephen, I tried to save her—

STEPHEN: (Jumping up now.) I’m living with Mom.

SAM: Ask him! He’ll tell you. I did everything—

STEPHEN: (Screaming.) I’m living with Mom.

SAM: Are you listening to me?

STEPHEN: Don’t call us! Don’t come see us!

SAM: Stephen!

STEPHEN: (Moving toward the house.) Don’t come get your things!

SAM: What do you want me to say?

STEPHEN: Buy new things! (Stephen runs out of the garden and up the steps into the house.)

(Sam just stands there a minute, then turns to Everett, who is still sitting by the wall.)

SAM: If you’re looking for Stephen, he went inside.

EVERETT: (After a moment.) That’s good. It’s cold out here.

SAM: (Very controlled.) Then why don’t you go inside.

EVERETT: And do what?

SAM: And talk to somebody else!

(No response from Everett.)

SAM: God, for example.

EVERETT: I did talk to God.

SAM: I’m sure you did.

EVERETT: He told me to come out here and sit with you, and He’d get back to me in the morning.

SAM: Did He tell you what to say to me?

EVERETT: No. God’s not much good on detail.

SAM: But you have some ideas, I guess.

EVERETT: Are you mad at God or me?

SAM: I’m not sure. I get you confused.

EVERETT: What did I do?

SAM: You let Mother’s garden go to hell.

EVERETT: Sam, I’m an old man.

SAM: You didn’t deserve her.

EVERETT: Of course I didn’t. She was a gift. Like Glory is a gift. Like Stephen is a gift.

SAM: She was nothing to you. Nothing at all. You never paid any attention to her. You spent all your time tending the flock.

EVERETT: I did love your mother, Sam.

SAM: You loved God more.

EVERETT: Of course I did. And she knew I loved God more. She knew I loved you more.

SAM: You didn’t love me, you loved Mavis. Yes! You even loved Mavis more than Mother. First God, then Mavis, then the ladies in the choir, then the congregation, then the shut-ins, then the sick, then the starving Chinese and the heathen, wherever they are, then me, then Mother.

EVERETT: I’m sorry if it seemed that way.

SAM: It was that way!

EVERETT: All right. It was that way. She was last on my list. All right. But there was a power in me, like there’s a power in you, and I couldn’t let anything get in its way.

SAM: Why couldn’t you let anything get in its way? What good did it do? I mean, it didn’t work, Dad.

EVERETT: I was called to it, Sam. Same as you. And you know your Glory understands what your work means to you. Your mother was exactly that way for me. Of course, I never saved lives the way you do, but I was—

SAM: We can’t save lives. God couldn’t save Mother. Medicine couldn’t save Mavis. Lives are lost from the start. All you do is promise them another one, and all I do is make this one last longer. But it’s our victory, not theirs. My work saves my life. Or used to. Oh boy. Day after day I’ve been real proud of myself ’cause I won one more round. Right? Wrong. Death wins. Death always wins.

EVERETT: Not in my book.

SAM: No, not in your book. But I don’t believe in your book. I don’t, in fact, believe in anything. It has taken me my whole life, Dad, but I have finally arrived. I am free of faith. Glory be. Praise the Lord.

EVERETT: (Almost laughing.) Oh, He’s really after you this time, isn’t He?

SAM: And He has to shake me to make me listen, doesn’t He?

EVERETT: Well, I probably believed that in the old days, but God’s not as physical as He used to be.

SAM: That is not what you “probably believed” in the old days. That is exactly what you said from the pulpit the Sunday after Mother died. You pointed to me, sitting there on the front row of the choir, where everybody in the whole congregation could see me, and you told them the story. “There was my little boy, Samuel, sitting on his dear mother’s bed, and he didn’t know she was dead, he was just sitting there, reading as loud as he could, as fast as he could, but he was shaking like a young tree in a driving rain. And I walked in and saw that she was dead and put my hands on his shoulders and made him stop shaking and made him stop reading and listen. And I said, ‘Son, your mother has gone to her reward.’ And he heard me.”

Now by this time, they’re all crying, the whole church is crying, but you weren’t through, were you? You walked over to me and pulled me up out of my seat in the choir and grabbed my hand and held it to your heart and you said to your congregation, “That’s what God has to do, sometimes. He has to shake us to make us listen.”

EVERETT: (Quite shaken himself.) I didn’t mean to talk about it, Sam. Not that Sunday, anyway. I just lost my place in my sermon, somehow. And everything got all blurry, all of a sudden, and all I knew was, I had to keep talking and…that was the best I could do, son.

SAM: Yeah, well, do you want to know what God said to me? What I heard when I quit shaking?

EVERETT: Sam, Sam…

SAM: I heard God say, and He was almost laughing when He said it—God said, “Sam, Sam, how could you have been so dumb.”

EVERETT: I don’t know what to say to you, son.

SAM: I don’t want you to say anything to me. I want you to leave me alone.

EVERETT: Where am I supposed to go, Sam? This is my house.

SAM: This is Mother’s house. Yours is the one with the steeple on the top.

EVERETT: No. That’s God’s house.

SAM: Then where do you live, Daddy? I mean, when you go home, who opens the door?

EVERETT: Oh, son. (Pause.) You do.

SAM: (Very cold.) Well I’m awful sorry about that, Dad, but you don’t get the boy you want, you get the boy you get.

EVERETT: This hurts me too much now, Sam. You’re the only one who…Look, maybe you shouldn’t come down here anymore. I’m happy here. My whole life is peaceful here. And I can still pray for you and keep up with you, but well, I’ll just see you in the newspapers from now on, okay? Maybe you’ll send Stephen to visit me now and then, but I won’t come there, and you don’t come here, all right?

(Sam is suddenly still, and there is a long silence.)

SAM: Will Stephen forgive me?

(Everett takes a long time here.)

EVERETT: (Quietly.) I don’t know. Do you forgive me?

SAM: (Much more quiet.) I don’t know.

EVERETT: Well then, it’s hard to say. Some of these things are inherited, I think.

(Glory comes out of the house.)

GLORY: Everett? Sam? What are you two doing out here?

EVERETT: Oh, you know. Reminiscing.

GLORY: Look Sam. Look what I found. I thought you gave me all your letter sweaters, but you didn’t. You kept one for yourself, didn’t you.

EVERETT: He couldn’t get in the sports banquet without it.

GLORY: I remember that banquet. You were the only member of the cross-country team.

EVERETT: I remember they served cauliflower. Bless your mother’s heart, you were the only athlete who ate it.

GLORY: Everett, you need to put on something warmer if you’re going to stay out here.

EVERETT: (Standing.) Did Stephen go to bed?

GLORY: I made him some warm milk.

EVERETT: I didn’t think I had any milk.

GLORY: I made a glass for you, too.

EVERETT: I’ll go sit with him, then.

GLORY: Don’t you like milk?

EVERETT: I don’t know. I’ll see. (He goes into the house.)

GLORY: (Turning to Sam.) Come on, Sam. Put this sweater on.

(Sam takes the sweater finally, and puts it on as he talks.)

SAM: I liked that run before school every morning. Out of the house…down the street…Everybody asleep but me and the milkman. I got to feeling real useful, you know, like I was supposed to check out the town before everybody got up. Mile after mile, so far, so good, I’d think. No fires, no stray dogs, and no lights on, so nobody’s sick. We did okay. We made it through another night.

GLORY: You were right not to come to the supper, Sam.

SAM: Did they wonder where I was?

GLORY: They’re used to your being gone, I think.

SAM: Like you.

GLORY: No. I’m not used to it. But I don’t take it personally anymore.

SAM: Like they do.

GLORY: Maybe they do. I don’t know.

SAM: They think…that I think…that I’m better than they are.

GLORY: You do!

SAM: I know. They’re right.

GLORY: And that’s why you don’t go. You can’t stand for them to be right.

SAM: That’s right.

GLORY: (After a moment.) Well…you missed some great stories about Mavis.

SAM: I’m sure I did.

GLORY: Your dad told one about you and Mavis, and Timmy somebody—he didn’t remember the name—coming back from church camp down at Green River. And you were speeding down the road in that old Volkswagen of hers. And suddenly you saw a policeman coming up behind you and you realized not only were you all three drunk, but you didn’t have your driver’s license, and you knew you’d never get into medical school with that on your record, so Mavis said, “I’ll drive.” And you said, “What?” And she said, “Change places with me. I’ll drive.” And you said, “Mavis, we’re going seventy miles an hour.” And she said, “Move over.”

SAM: (Realizing she doesn’t know the end of the story.) Is that all he told of it?

GLORY: Is there more?

SAM: We climbed over each other and she got behind the wheel. I told her to slow down, but she told me to shut up. When the police car pulled up beside us, she rolled down the window and yelled to the officer that the accelerator was stuck, and he took one look at the car, and believed her. He made some motions with his hands like she should downshift or kick the accelerator, which she did, then she hit the brake, smiled at him, pulled off the road, got out of the car, and threw up.

GLORY: So she wasn’t drunk anymore.

SAM: Right.

GLORY: Smart.

SAM: (With great, unprotected joy.) Yeah. Mavis was as smart as they come.

(Pause.)

GLORY: Sam, I’ve been thinking about all of this.

SAM: Yes. It’s that kind of night, isn’t it.

GLORY: I think you’re right. I think I’ll go to Mother’s for a while. A month maybe. You take Stephen and go, Sam. Back to the city or on a trip, whatever you think is best. I don’t want to fight with you now. I’d just like a month to think.

SAM: I see.

GLORY: I didn’t bring the right clothes to suit Mother, but she’ll take me shopping, I guess. And she’s giving a big party next week. People I haven’t seen in years. Maybe some of them will have learned something in the meantime.

SAM: Don’t count on it.

GLORY: My riding clothes are still out there, so that’s good. I’ll be able to check out this exercise boy of hers.

SAM: Uh-huh.

GLORY: And I thought maybe Everett might need me. We can go through Mavis’s clothes, and I’ll help him sort her letters and look at the pictures with him and hear the rest of the stories again. (Pause.) I’m all packed.

SAM: Glory…

GLORY: I just came out here to—

SAM: Will you not leave…just yet? Will you sit with me awhile?

GLORY: I will.

SAM: (This is hard for him at first.) When you went to the supper, I drove over to Mavis’s house. Where they lived when we were kids, I mean. I don’t even know who lives there now. I just parked out front for a while. I always liked that house. Those lilac bushes are still there, remember?

GLORY: Sure I do. All over the place.

SAM: And for one moment, I was sixteen and I had it all to do over again. And I could forget your hair, and forget your mouth and your smell, and love Mavis. Marry her. Somebody exactly like me. Somebody who believed in hard work, who couldn’t wait to be an adult. Somebody who never read “Sleeping Beauty” and never said a prayer except, “God let me stay awake long enough to get everything finished.”

GLORY: You were two of a kind all right.

SAM: And in the next moment, the moment after I was sixteen and could forget your hair, I was sixteen and I wanted your hair in my mouth, in my eyes, all over me. I wanted to catch you swimming naked in your pond. I knew you did it. You told me you did it.

GLORY: (Confessing.) Of course I did. I wanted you to catch me.

SAM: I never had a chance. I hopped over to that pond like every frog in every fairy tale my mother ever read me, and you kissed me, and I believed. I remember that kiss, I can still taste the butterscotch sucker I took out of your mouth to have that kiss, and I’m still dizzy and hot all of a sudden, and I remember loving you. (Pause.) And I guess that kiss…was the last I ever saw of Mavis.

GLORY: Bless her heart, she worshipped you. I knew it, everybody knew it.

SAM: So, once I was in love with you, she had to go to nursing school, didn’t she? But she never married, just in case you got hit by a truck or something.

(Glory laughs but knows it’s true.)

SAM: Right. Nursing school was her last chance to get my attention, but it didn’t work. I didn’t look at her in high school and I haven’t looked at her since. Why should I look? I knew she’d be there.

GLORY: Sam…

SAM: Mavis was two feet away from me, across the table from me, her whole life, and what did she get from this life with me? Nothing. Invitations to dinner from you. Tennis on Saturday with you. The four of us at the movies, me sound asleep and Mavis holding the popcorn between you and Stephen. Nothing.

GLORY: Mavis got as much from you as you would let her have. That’s all she wanted. You’re a genius. People make exceptions. They settle.

SAM: You have done more than settle. You have bet your lives on me. It was worse for Mavis, but it’s the same for all of you. None of you had any right to count on me, but you did, and I let you, and now, instead of saving any of you—

GLORY: Is that what you think you’re doing in our lives, saving us?

SAM: I want to help you.

GLORY: We’re all right down here. We think our little thoughts and we have our silly troubles and we fight our losing battles as bravely as we can. The last thing we need is for you to come in and solve our problems for us. Our problems, Sam, are how we fill up our days.

SAM: It’s easier for you in the winter, I guess. Your days are shorter.

GLORY: (A flash of anger.) I don’t need you to save me! (Then recovering.) I just need you to…be on my side whenever you can. (When he doesn’t respond, she continues.) See me…hear me…give me some room, and save me some time. That’s all.

(Still no response from Sam.)

GLORY: I’ve already got a God, Sam. And I see Him all the time, everywhere I go. And He may seem limited and primitive to you, but the dances are fun and the songs are sweet, and every day is a holy day.

SAM: So what is your God doing tonight?

GLORY: I don’t know. Maybe He’s just…watering the grass.

SAM: Okay. I can’t save you. But neither do I have the right to destroy you all.

GLORY: I am not destroyed! I’m mad at you because you’re acting like this, but I am not destroyed. And if you think you destroyed Mavis…if you’re out here feeling sorry for Mavis…Mavis had you all day, Sam. Mavis had the best of you! I never had the conversations she had with you. I never sweated with you for twelve hours to work one of your miracles. We—you and I—never held our breath till the dead man sat up, Sam.

(And he doesn’t respond.)

GLORY: No, Sam. Don’t feel sorry for Mavis. And don’t be mad at me. I have been—Stephen and I have been—happy, all these years, to have what was left over when Mavis finished with you.

SAM: So you’re happy she’s gone.

GLORY: (Horrified.) How can you say that?

SAM: You sounded jealous, that’s all.

GLORY: I was jealous. You loved her. But that doesn’t—

SAM: No, Glory. I didn’t love her. I had every opportunity to, but I didn’t.

GLORY: Well…I loved her. And I think she loved me. And right now, I’m feeling real lost without her.

SAM: She was jealous of you.

GLORY: What on earth for?

SAM: You’ve got it all.

GLORY: I’ve got you, you mean.

SAM: You’re a great-looking woman and Stephen adores you, and you float through everything like you’re on a…like you were born wearing a life jacket. (Pause.) Mavis had to work hard for everything she ever had, while you…well, you…just enjoy yourself.

GLORY: Listen, Sam. It’s not as easy as it looks.

SAM: Yeah, well, you’ve had a lot of practice.

GLORY: (In a rage.) I did not agree to sit here and take the blame for this. It’s not my fault! (She starts for the house.)

SAM: I didn’t love her, I used her. And then…when she really needed me…She was counting on me to see it, Glory, only I wasn’t looking. And I wasn’t looking because I didn’t want to see it. Other people die, Glory—not me, not my family, not my friend!

GLORY: None of us were looking, Sam. Three weeks ago, I knew she looked awful. I told her to get a haircut.

SAM: It’s the thirteenth fairy, see. You don’t invite her to the party because you don’t want her to come, but she comes anyway, because she lives there, just like you do. But you forgot, didn’t you?

GLORY: Sam…

SAM: I forgot Mavis was alive and she died.

GLORY: You were trying to save her!

SAM: I was showing off! I could fix it. I could pull her through. I could make it disappear. She could have lived for months. A year maybe, but no, I have to go in and save her.

GLORY: Even if it was a mistake…

SAM: I believed I could save her.

GLORY: Well you couldn’t.

SAM: So now I just turn around and believe I couldn’t?

GLORY: Yes!

SAM: No! It was the belief that was the problem in the first place! I believed in everything. I even believed in you—or love, I guess. Didn’t I? Yes. And in God, and fairy tales, and medicine and the power of my own mind and none of it works!

GLORY: Sam…please…

SAM: But I want to believe! Stephen wants to believe! He does! I see it! After everything I’ve told him, he still wants to believe. But how can I let him believe when I know what happens, when there is no good reason for what happens, when there is no reason to believe.

GLORY: (Trying another tack.) Sam, you’ve got this all mixed up. You married me because I’m good for you, and you operated on Mavis because you were the best one to do it, because she wanted you to do it, because you wanted to do it.

SAM: No! (In his own private hell now.) I believed, once again, I believed I might be able to do something and… (Very distant, suddenly.) Mavis believed I could save her and all the faith in the world wouldn’t save her. Won’t save any of us. Won’t do a thing except make fools of us. Give us tests we cannot pass. Bring us to our knees, but not in prayer—in absolute submission to accident, to the arbitrary assignment of unbearable pain, and the everyday occurrence of meaningless death. Only then can we believe…that dreams, like deadly whirlpools, drown us in their frenzy…that love blazes across a black sky like a comet but never returns…and that time, like a desert wind, blows while I sleep, and erases the path I walked to here, and erases the path that leads on.

(Sam’s anger has been so raw and so violent that he now simply stands, but we are certain he will not speak for quite a while.)

GLORY: (Without looking up.) Oh, Sam…Oh, sweet baby…(Now standing up, but not looking at Sam.) I went in to see her, you know Tuesday morning, and she’d already had her shot, so she was pretty dopey, but she said, well, she said a lot of things. “Well,” she said, “it looks like Sam’s gonna get his hands on me after all.”

(She looks to Sam for a response but there is none. As Glory continues, Sam walks slowly downstage and sits on a rock and buries his head in his hands.)

GLORY: Anyway, then she said, “Glory…Sam might not be able to fix this, you know. I might not be there for him, this time, when he needs me…I might not be as helpful as I have been. I’ll be asleep, see, that’s my excuse. Anyway, if I don’t make it…I want him to know what I loved…why I loved him. It was only one thing he did, really. We were ten years old, and Everett had this magic trick and Sam knew how it worked, and he showed me how it worked. He knew it wasn’t magic, and he knew it didn’t always work, and he wasn’t afraid to know. Tell him that’s why I loved him. He wasn’t afraid to know.” Then she said, “I’ve caught it from him, I guess. I’m not afraid either.”

(As Glory and Sam remain seated, spent, on the ground, the back door opens and Stephen comes out.)

STEPHEN: Mom?

GLORY: You need to be in bed, honey.

STEPHEN: Are you going to sleep out here?

GLORY: I don’t know.

STEPHEN: Want me to get you a blanket?

GLORY: No thanks, sweetie. I’m going to stand up, just…any minute now.

STEPHEN: What’s the matter with Dad?

GLORY: It’s just late, honey. He’s real tired.

STEPHEN: Why doesn’t he say anything?

GLORY: He just needs to be quiet now, Stephen.

STEPHEN: (Walking toward Sam.) Dad?

GLORY: Come over here if you want to. Keep me warm. (Stephen comes to sit down with Glory and they hug.)

STEPHEN: Maybe we should eat again.

GLORY: Anything sound good to you?

STEPHEN: No.

GLORY: Did you and Grandpa have a nice talk?

STEPHEN: He was going to teach me how to play Chinese checkers, but, well… he lost his marbles.

GLORY: (Laughing.) Did you say that or did he?

STEPHEN: I did. He said…he couldn’t find them. But I thought…you could use a joke.

GLORY: Boy, is that the truth. I’d give you a dollar for it…

STEPHEN: …if you had a dollar.

GLORY: You got it.

STEPHEN: I’ll put it on your bill.

GLORY: Done.

STEPHEN: Maybe he’s asleep.

GLORY: Who?

STEPHEN: Dad.

GLORY: He might be asleep. But I wouldn’t say anything you don’t want him to hear.

STEPHEN: (Picking up the geode.) What’s this?

GLORY: I don’t know. A rock.

STEPHEN: It’s round. Rocks aren’t round.

GLORY: I don’t know, Stephen. Ask your father.

STEPHEN: You ask him.

GLORY: You’re the one who wants to know.

STEPHEN: Maybe it goes in the wall.

(Stephen gets up and walks around the garden looking for a place the geode might go. At one point he gets close to Sam, but Glory motions for Stephen to go around him.)

STEPHEN: A rock this big ought to be heavier.

(Glory doesn’t know how to answer him, so she just smiles and watches.)

STEPHEN: How did it get so round?

GLORY: I don’t know, Stephen.

(Everett comes out of the house and takes a couple of steps. He is very reluctant to interrupt this, whatever it is.)

EVERETT: I’ll say good night, I guess.

GLORY: Good night, Everett.

EVERETT: You can come inside now, if you want. I’m going to bed…and there’s chairs in here.

GLORY: We’re all right, Everett.

EVERETT: Well, then…

(He looks at Sam, then at Glory, who shakes her head and motions for Everett not to say anything.)

STEPHEN: Grandpa, do you know what this rock is?

EVERETT: No, Stephen.

STEPHEN: I found it out here in the garden.

EVERETT: I found a whole drawer full of them upstairs. I brought that one out here to look at one day.

STEPHEN: But whose are they? Where did they come from?

EVERETT: They’re Mary’s.

STEPHEN: Who’s Mary?

EVERETT: Your grandmother. Sam’s mother.

GLORY: I saw those dancing pictures upstairs, Everett. If she danced as great as she looked, she was a real catch.

EVERETT: (Pleased to be invited to come talk.) She sure was. And nobody could understand why she married the preacher except she was having a better time than anybody else and she had to find some way to pay for it.

GLORY: She sounds like me.

EVERETT: If she were alive today, she’d bake you a batch of chocolate chips and eat them every one while they were still hot. Then she’d send you the wax paper she baked them on and write you a note, telling you to let her know the minute you went off your diet.

STEPHEN: And she liked these rocks?

EVERETT: Well, I don’t know. I guess so. I didn’t even know she had them till she died. I was looking for a list she made, who she wanted to have her piano, things like that, and I found them. I found a lot of things. I found the world she lived in, a world I knew very little about. I know she loved me, but I don’t know why. She must have loved those rocks, but I don’t know what they are. (Now he looks at Sam.) I guess you can be a real big part of somebody else’s world without ever understanding the first thing about it. Somebody can give you their life and you’ll never know why. Never know what they wanted from you, or if they ever got it. Then when they die, well, knowing so little about these people makes it real hard to lose them. (Pause.) I kept meaning to ask Sam about those rocks. I know she’d want him to have them.

SAM: (Finally.) It’s not a rock. It’s a geode.

STEPHEN: (Running down to him.) You mean with the crystals inside?

SAM: Yes.

STEPHEN: Well, let’s open it up and see it! Where’s the hammer?

SAM: (Sudden alarm.) No! (Then more quietly.) Once you crack them…She didn’t like to crack them.

STEPHEN: Then how do you know what’s in there?

SAM: You don’t. She said…it was better for it to be safe than for you to know what it was, exactly.

STEPHEN: Dad?

SAM: I’m here, Stephen. (He sits, but still holds the geode.) I thought I could save Mavis. (To Stephen.) I thought I could protect you. I can’t do any of those things. I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know what to say. I have nothing for you.

STEPHEN: (Pointing to the geode.) I’ll take that.

SAM: The geode?

STEPHEN: Yeah.

SAM: It’s not mine.

EVERETT: Yes it is.

SAM: It’s nothing.

STEPHEN: It’s okay. I like it.

SAM: I like it too. When Mother died I gathered them up and put them in that drawer. Yes, you can have it. It’s…your mystery now.

STEPHEN: (Taking the geode.) Thanks.

(There is silence all around.)

STEPHEN: Dad?

SAM: Yes.

STEPHEN: Where did she go, Dad?

SAM: Where did Mavis go?

STEPHEN: Yes.

(And there is more silence.)

SAM: I don’t know, Stephen.

STEPHEN: I saw her in the coffin, but it wasn’t her.

GLORY: (Gently.) It was her, Stephen.

STEPHEN: I mean, she wasn’t there anymore.

SAM: No.

STEPHEN: (Carefully.) Did you see it go, Dad?

SAM: What?

STEPHEN: (Still very careful.) In the operating room? Did you cut her open and it got out?

(And Sam doesn’t answer for a moment. His heart is broken, his anger turned to grief and longing. Glory, Everett and Stephen are silent and perfectly still.)

SAM: Yes. (Pause.) I cut her open and it got out. I was standing there over her and…

STEPHEN: (Quietly.) What was it like? (Now very slowly.) Could you feel it or see it or hear it? Was it cold or white or like air maybe or what?

(And Sam stands there a moment, searching for the answer, searching for the memory, trying to see it again. Finally, he shakes his head. The words are coming, but he has no idea what they are.)

SAM: It was… (And suddenly, the words come from him the way “it” came from Mavis in that moment.) It was forgiveness.

(Sam stands there quietly a moment, as a kind of peace seems to come over him, and then over Everett, and then Glory. Stephen, however, doesn’t quite understand.)

STEPHEN: (Finally.) For what, Dad?

SAM: I don’t know, Stephen. For whatever I did. For all those years.

STEPHEN: Did she forgive me for losing her cat?

SAM: (Not directly to Stephen, and not quickly.) Yes, Stephen.

EVERETT: (Quietly.) I wondered what happened to that cat. Every week, on the phone, I had to say hello to that damn cat.

STEPHEN: (To Everett.) I didn’t mean to lose Peaches, she just—

GLORY: (Interrupting him, to soothe him.) It’s all right, Stephen. I owed Mavis money.

SAM: You? What for?

GLORY: (A bit embarrassed as the story begins.) I had my eyes done. Last March when I told you I came to see Mother, I flew to Chicago and had my eyes done. I didn’t want you to know it, so I borrowed the money from Mavis.

SAM: And I never noticed it.

GLORY: No.

SAM: (Inspecting her eyes now.) Nice work. (Then inspecting more carefully.) Great work.

GLORY: She said we had to preserve your illusions.

SAM: I like it.

GLORY: That’s good. It was a lot of money.

EVERETT: It was four thousand dollars.

SAM: I didn’t know Mavis had any money.

EVERETT: It was my money.

GLORY: I didn’t know that.

EVERETT: I didn’t know it was for you.

SAM: (To Everett.) I’ll pay you back.

EVERETT: Good.

GLORY: Thank you anyway, Everett.

EVERETT: (After a moment.) I owe you an apology, Glory.

GLORY: What on earth?

EVERETT: I told Mavis your marriage wouldn’t last. That your mother was stingy with her money and your looks wouldn’t last forever. I told her if she’d just wait, she could have Sam all to herself.

STEPHEN: Why did you do that?

EVERETT: It was…an old dream of mine.

SAM: You were wrong.

EVERETT: I know.

GLORY: Well, not completely. Mother is cheap.

EVERETT: I’m sorry, Glory.

GLORY: It’s all right, Everett. You didn’t know.

SAM: (After a moment.) I’m the one who needs to apologize to you, Glory.

GLORY: It’s all right, Sam.

SAM: I only wanted to leave because—

GLORY: You don’t have to tell me that, Sam.

SAM: I don’t know why I wanted to leave you. I can’t leave you. But maybe I didn’t want to hurt you like I…maybe I was afraid I would lose you, too.

GLORY: Sam, it’s been a sad, sad day. We’re all so lonely for her, we’ve all…said things.

SAM: Yeah, I know, but I said mine on purpose.

GLORY: You were mad.

SAM: That doesn’t make it right. I need you. I love you.

GLORY: I know, Sam. I tried to tell you that this afternoon.

SAM: I guess I wasn’t listening.

GLORY: (Carefully.) No, I didn’t think you were.

SAM: (Takes his time before he begins.) Glory, if you could…hold on a little longer, I want to be a better man.

GLORY: I can do that, Sam.

(He shakes his head, first out of relief; and then in confusion.)

GLORY: You don’t understand, do you.

(He shakes his head no.)

GLORY: I’d explain it to you if I could, or maybe you’ll explain it to me in a week or so, or maybe we’ll just love each other anyway and never know.

SAM: Please…forgive me.

(And Glory extends her arms to Sam, and they embrace. And when they break the embrace he sees his father.)

SAM: And Dad…I’m sorry, Dad.

EVERETT: I’m all right, son.

SAM: No, Dad. I want you to know that I—

EVERETT: I said it’s all right, son.

SAM: I love you, Dad.

EVERETT: Yes. I know.

STEPHEN: (After a moment.) I’m cold. Is anybody else cold? It’s cold out here. (And Sam knows they are all waiting for him to speak, to say whether he is finished here.)

SAM: Well, maybe…we could…go in the house. I didn’t think I wanted to go in the house, but now—

EVERETT: I haven’t changed a thing, Sam.

SAM: Yes, well, (Smiling at Everett and himself.) that’s what I was afraid of.

(Glory squeezes his hand or laughs a little at him, and Everett shakes his head, but they are all still waiting for Sam to make the next move.)

SAM: Dad, if it’s all right with Stephen and Glory, we’d like to stay here a few days, if it isn’t too much trouble.

STEPHEN: Hey! Great!

EVERETT: What do you mean? You have to stay here. You haven’t finished cleaning up this garden. And Stephen hasn’t read all my books and I know I can’t eat all that food we brought home from the supper.

GLORY: (Gathering up something she has brought outside.) You can’t eat all that food because Josie Barnett can’t cook. I thought people in the country could cook.

EVERETT: (Now moving toward the house.) What Josie Barnett can’t do is sing. None of these girls can sing a lick. I keep praying I’ll go deaf, but then…

(Looking to heaven, but aware that he’s making a joke.) I ask Him for so much.

(Stephen follows Everett’s eyes to the heavens and finds the stars.)

STEPHEN: (As though they were in the middle of a conversation about stars.) But Dad, what holds the stars up there? Why don’t they fall? (And there is a pause, while Sam doesn’t explain it.)

EVERETT: Sam, what was that other verse, do you remember, that other verse of “Twinkle, Twinkle.”

GLORY: I didn’t know there was another verse.

EVERETT: Well, maybe it wasn’t a real verse, but Sam’s mother sure said it all the time.

SAM: No, it was a real verse. I remember reading it. I just don’t remember…

EVERETT: (Getting it now.) As your bright and tiny spark

SAM: (Remembering.) Yes, yes. (Then repeating.)

Guides the traveler in the dark

Though I know not what you are

Twinkle, twinkle little star.

(He continues to look at the stars.)

EVERETT: Right. That’s it, exactly.

THE END