Prayer for My Enemy
Page 5
DOLORES: Are you back for good?
(Billy shakes his head.)
Oh. It must be difficult hating people you don’t even know.
BILLY: Not really.
DOLORES: You mustn’t be shocked. If you’re relieved . . . some part of you wants him . . . For instance—well, I’m talking about myself—my “fiancé” Charles couldn’t inconvenience himself to come to my mother’s memorial. “Important conference.” And that made me realize: Hooray! Good riddance. But. What do we do when our mortal enemy just ups and disappears. What would you do if the Iraqis just walked away?
BILLY: That’s a funny way to think of it.
DOLORES: I’ve just come from the lawyer. And who would have thought my mother had so much money!
BILLY: Yeah?
DOLORES: And leave it to me! In the will she wrote my sister won’t need an income given her vows of poverty and silence. She’s a Buddhist nun, but I think it’s hilarious she put that in, as if Mom was saying, “Well, if you’d spoken up, honey, I’d have stuck you in!” I should be shipped off in a cage for cannibals to eat.
BILLY: You’re just in mourning.
DOLORES: You must see a lot. I mean, be able to. Don’t you? . . . I think if we look at people, simply look directly at them, we see who they are. You see who I am. I see you seeing me . . . We see.
(Billy and Dolores stare at one another. And stare.)
BILLY: We’re not here to judge each other.
DOLORES: . . . You have a girlfriend?
BILLY: I’m on a generic antidepressant they’re giving me over there, I can’t really have sex. To anyone’s satisfaction.
(The monitor stops beeping, flatlines.)
DOLORES: What’s that?
(Billy moves from his chair.)
Is that bad?
(Billy sticks his head out into the hall.)
BILLY: Nurse? Somebody?
Scene 13
Dolores alone.
DOLORES: Why did I do that? I almost confessed to that child! What the hell would that have accomplished? Even if he suspects, he can’t prove it. And what was his father doing in the woods at that hour of the night anyway? I have no motive! What, I was angry! And afraid! I didn’t mean to hurt him! Oh, of course I did. I meant to shut him up for good, I meant to punish him for being there at all! So that’s who I am. That’s who I am. Now what? What would you do? Come clean? Pay the price, whatever it is? Because, you see, I can’t assume I’ll be forgiven. No no no. I could spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on lawyers to prove it was self-defense and still spend years of my life behind bars! Not to mention putting those poor people through the hell of names plastered everywhere, trials, and on top of everything they’ve already been through, would any of it bring him back? No! It would feel better for me to confess, so I could do the right thing! Hooray! And throw my life away. First thing . . . first thing: Forgive myself. Do they even teach you how to do that? Where is all this forgiveness everyone is always talking about? Have you seen it? Because I haven’t. Honestly, no wonder everybody’s taking something, I am. It lifts all the—everything . . . “Leave a room cleaner than you found it,” that’s what my dad always said. I keep . . . Leave a room cleaner than you found it, if all else fails . . . Leave a room cleaner than you found it.
Scene 14
Before the memorial. Karen and Marianne are in the dining area, pouring drinks. Tad and Billy stand apart; Tad has a sleeping newborn in a sling. Austin’s casket stands at the back of the room.
MARIANNE: How’s your sinus?
KAREN: I took two more pills.
MARIANNE: Watch, with the alcohol. You look beautiful.
KAREN: Thank you. So do you.
(Dolores enters with food.)
DOLORES: Hey.
KAREN: Dolores!
(They hug.)
You’ve been a godsend.
DOLORES: Ohhhhh. Well, put me to work.
KAREN (Heading toward the kitchen): I don’t know, I think we’re almost set . . .
(Marianne and Karen exit; Dolores sees Billy staring at her.)
DOLORES: Hi, handsome.
(Billy turns his back to her and walks away. Dolores uneasily slips off into the kitchen, leaving Tad and Billy alone. Billy pours himself a glass of ginger ale.)
BILLY: Is it time . . . ?
TAD: You nervous?
(Billy shakes his head.)
I think about . . . When you come back? For good? I want to kiss you. Don’t say anything. Just . . . sit somewhere, you know, out of, away, just . . . your head in my lap and . . . Just sit. Okay? And . . . Hold your face in my hands. I’ve gotta . . . I think about it. I’ve gotta kiss you. (Pause) I’ve gotta kiss you.
BILLY: We’ll / s[ee]—
TAD: No, say yes. You want it. You have.
BILLY: It’s just you haven’t had sex.
TAD: No, it’s you. I’m gonna freeze to death in here if I don’t kiss you. Say yes. Come on. Say yes.
(Billy covers his face, sits.)
It’s okay.
BILLY: No!
TAD: I know you’re straight.
BILLY: No. No, I’m not. But it’s just . . . to be even seen by anybody.
TAD: Yes!
BILLY: You’re married to my sister.
TAD: She’s not gonna know. I love you both. She’s not. You want it. You want to kiss me.
(Billy glances to see that they are alone, then he kisses Tad. They move apart as Marianne returns, followed by Karen and Dolores. Marianne senses something between Tad and Billy.)
(Sotto voce to Billy) After the service we’ll take a walk.
(Marianne pours the rest of her drink into Karen’s.)
KAREN: I thought you said watch.
MARIANNE: Changed my mind.
(Marianne approaches Tad and Billy.)
TAD (Continues softly): Just go somewhere. Just us. Say yes.
MARIANNE: Ready?
TAD: Yes. Say yes.
BILLY: No.
TAD: Yes!
MARIANNE: Are you okay?
BILLY: No. (Directly to Tad) No.
MARIANNE: What’s . . . ?
(Short pause.)
BILLY (“Let’s start the service.”): Come on.
(Dolores picks up a spoon; she taps a glass, speaking to the unseen mourners:)
DOLORES: Could we . . . ? Could we have everyone’s—?
(Billy takes the glass and spoon from Dolores. He indicates that she should step back.)
BILLY: Welcome, everybody. My family and I thank you all for being here. Anyone who wants to say anything will get a chance. This is a celebration. (Short pause) Marianne?
(Marianne steps forward; Billy steps back.)
MARIANNE: As most of you prob’ly know, Dad’s favorite band was the Grateful Dead. So— And in thinking about today, the thing that kept coming to us, what to say, or would be worthy . . . Dad would say to us when something crummy would happen: “Where’s the gift, what’s the gift? Look for the gift.” We thought he was nuts, well—he was nuts— But . . . to look for the gift. You’re all here, we’re together. Yeah, because he’s gone, and still we’re grateful.
(Marianne steps back. She looks at Billy: “Your turn.” Billy moves center, but is intercepted by Karen who has also moved forward; Billy gives her the spotlight, retreating slightly.)
KAREN: I think I’m in some kind of trance state still, but . . . Oh. Since we’re . . . holding up evidence, I don’t know, for the Defense. Or Prosecution, I have no clue what I’m saying.
(She produces a public service brochure.)
This came in the mail today. Did, I don’t know how many of you have seen this: It’s a brochure for public safety, paid for by . . . us, I suppose, and printed for us. For those who wish to acquire iodine to prevent their bodies from absorbing too much radiation in the event of an accident at Indian Point. The nuclear power plant that’s three and a half miles from here. A fully functioning and perfectly visible, if . . . they say if it explodes
, something like fourteen million people could die. You could not make this up. I thought, This is a movie, something people would go to see where millions of people are washed away in a . . . wave. Oh, and you can’t take the iodine if you’re allergic to shellfish, so . . . (Pause) We’re in a relay race. People. You take the baton. You take the baton.
(Billy and Marianne have moved in toward Karen, concerned that she is going to embarrass herself.)
I thought my daughter was going to say, about the Grateful Dead. (Touches herself) Grateful. (Indicates the casket) Dead. Not really. But I’m glad she didn’t. That’s enough! No, I’m done! I’m done!
(The baby starts to fuss.)
BILLY: You sure?
MARIANNE: That was beautiful.
KAREN: Done.
(Tad quiets the baby. Billy produces a folded piece of yellow, lined paper.)
BILLY: This was in Dad’s—we found this in his things. He would write these out; I walked in on him once by mistake and saw him on his knees, head bowed, reading. (Reads) “God. Love, guide and protect those who would seem to harm me . . . To the Iraqi—citizen, soldier and insurgent—grant peace of mind, long life, prosperity; anything and everything I would wish for myself, give to him. Or her. A sense of purpose, of fit. May he wake up to life’s bounty and know he does your bidding. Give him passion, delight, worthy challenges, wisdom and surprise. May he never come to make or inhabit a land so indecent as the one that lives in me. May he bask . . .” You know he had his thesaurus for that. “May he bask in your perfection and be complete in all ways, to your design. Amen.”
DOLORES: Amen.
BILLY (Staring at Dolores): Not bad. Kind of amazing, actually.
KAREN: That’s the man I remember. Sorry.
BILLY: No.
KAREN: That’s who he used to be. That’s who’s died.
(She points to the casket.)
Now I’m done.
(Dolores bursts into tears, sinks into a chair.)
DOLORES: I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I’m sorry . . .
(At last, Billy moves to Dolores and comforts her; she buries her face against his chest. Finally, Billy looks toward Karen and Marianne: It’s okay. Then, to Tad:)
BILLY: Go ahead.
(Tad steps forward.)
TAD: This is uhhhh “Slane, Be Thou My Vision.” It’s an Irish, I think it’s originally in Gaelic—
(Tad hands the baby over to Marianne.)
Anyway, cross your fingers.
(The baby is crying.)
Don’t you love . . . I mean . . . that the baby has no idea what we’re going through . . . I mean, he’s oblivious. That’s the idea: We get another chance, it doesn’t matter, they don’t just, I mean, they don’t just see us as heroes, we get a chance to see ourselves, to step up, you know . . . to . . . I mean, who wouldn’t love them, if just for that. We step up . . . Love that.
(Beat. He sings:)
Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart.
Naught be all else to me save that thou art.
Thou my best thought by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping thy presence my light.
(The others join in:)
ALL:
Be thou my wisdom, thou my true word,
I ever with thee, thou with me, Lord,
Thou my great Father, I thy true Son,
Thou in me dwelling, and I with thee one.
END OF PLAY
Craig Lucas’s plays include Missing Persons, Blue Window, Reckless, Prelude to a Kiss, God’s Heart, The Dying Gaul, Stranger, Small Tragedy and The Singing Forest. He wrote the book for The Light in the Piazza, music and lyrics by Adam Guettel; the musical play Three Postcards, music and lyrics by Craig Carnelia; the libretto for the opera Orpheus in Love, music by Gerald Busby; and he has recently completed the libretto for Two Boys, an opera with composer Nico Muhly, commissioned by the Metropolitan Opera and scheduled to premiere there in a co-production with the English National Opera. His new English adaptations include Brecht’s Galileo, Chekhov’s Three Sisters and Uncle Vanya, and Strindberg’s Miss Julie. His screenplays include Longtime Companion (Sundance Audience Award), The Secret Lives of Dentists (New York Film Critics Circle Best Screenplay Award), Prelude to a Kiss, Reckless and The Dying Gaul, which he also directed. He directed Harry Kondoleon’s plays Saved or Destroyed at the Rattlestick Playwrights Theater (Obie Award for Best Director) and Play Yourself at the New York Theatre Workshop, as well as his own play This Thing of Darkness (co-authored with David Schulner) at the Atlantic Theater Company. He also directed the film Birds of America. Twice nominated for a Tony (Prelude to a Kiss and The Light in the Piazza), three times for the Drama Desk (Prelude to a Kiss, Missing Persons and Reckless), he has won the Los Angeles Drama Critics Award (Blue Window), the Steinberg/American Theater Critics Award for Best American Play (The Singing Forest), the Hull-Warriner Award (The Light in the Piazza), the LAMBDA Literary Award (for his anthology What I Meant Was), the Flora Roberts Award, the Academy Award in Literature from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, the Laura Pels/PEN Mid-Career Achievement Award and the Joan Cullman Award; he has twice won the Obie Award for Best Play (Prelude to a Kiss and Small Tragedy).