PEE WEE: C’mon, Dawg. . . .
[They go up. Val remains panting on counter.]
TALBOTT [sits in shoe chair at right window. In his manner there is a curious, half-abashed gentleness, when alone with the boy, as if he recognized the purity in him and was, truly, for the moment, ashamed of the sadism implicit in the occurrence]: Awright, boy. Git on down off th’ counter, I ain’t gonna touch y’r guitar.
[Val jumps off counter.]
But I’m gonna tell you something. They’s a certain county I know of which has a big sign at the county line that says, “Nigger, don’t let the sun go down on you in this county.” That’s all it says, it don’t threaten nothing, it just says, “Nigger, don’t let the sun go down on you in this county!” [Chuckles hoarsely. Rises and takes a step toward Val.] Well, son! You ain’t a nigger and this is not that county, but, son, I want you to just imagine that you seen a sign that said to you: “Boy, don’t let the sun rise on you in this county.” I said “rise,” not “go down” because it’s too close to sunset for you to git packed an’ move on before that. But I think if you value that instrument in your hands as much as you seem to, you’ll simplify my job by not allowing the sun tomorrow to rise on you in this county. ’S that understood, now, boy?
[Val stares at him, expressionless, panting.]
[Crossing to door.] I hope so. I don’t like violence. [He looks back and nods at Val from the door. Then goes outside in the fiery afterglow of the sunset. Dogs bark in the distance. Music fades in: “Dog Howl Blues”—minor—guitar. Pause in which Val remains motionless, cradling guitar in his arms. Then Val’s faraway, troubled look is resolved in a slight, abrupt nod of his head. He sweeps back the alcove curtain and enters the alcove and closes the curtain behind him. Lights dim down to indicate a division of scenes.]
SCENE THREE
Half an hour later. The lighting is less realistic than in the previous scenes of the play. The interior of the store is so dim that only the vertical lines of the pillars and such selected items as the palm tree on the stair landing and the ghostly paper vineyard of the confectionery are plainly visible. The view through the great front window has virtually become the background of the action: A singing wind sweeps clouds before the moon so that the witchlike country brightens and dims and brightens again. The marshal’s hounds are restless: their baying is heard now and then. A lamp outside the door sometimes catches a figure that moves past with mysterious urgency, calling out softly and raising an arm to beckon, like a shade in the under kingdom.
At rise, or when the stage is lighted again, it is empty but footsteps are descending the stairs as Dolly and Beulah rush into the store and call out, in soft shouts:
DOLLY: Dawg?
BEULAH: Pee Wee?
EVA TEMPLE [appearing on landing and calling down softly in the superior tone of a privileged attendant in a sick-chamber]: Please don’t shout! —Mr. Binnings and Mr. Hamma [Names of the two husbands.] are upstairs sitting with Jabe. . . . [She continues her descent. Then Sister Temple appears, sobbing, on landing.] —Come down carefully, Sister.
SISTER: Help me, I’m all to pieces. . . .
[Eva ignores this request and faces the two women.]
BEULAH: Has the bleedin’ quit yit?
EVA: The hemorrhage seems to have stopped. Sister, Sister, pull yourself together, we all have to face these things sometime in life.
DOLLY: Has he sunk into a coma?
EVA: No. Cousin Jabe is conscious. Nurse Porter says his pulse is remarkably strong for a man that lost so much blood. Of course he’s had a transfusion.
SISTER: Two of ’em.
EVA [crossing to Dolly] : Yais, an’ they put him on glucose. His strength came back like magic.
BEULAH: She up there?
EVA: Who?
BEULAH: Lady!
EVA: No! When last reported she had just stepped into the Glorious Hill Beauty Parlor.
BEULAH: You don’t mean it.
EVA: Ask Sister!
SISTER: She’s planning to go ahead with—!
EVA: —The gala opening of the confectionery. Switch on the lights in there, Sister.
[Sister crosses and switches on lights and moves off right. The decorated confectionery is lighted, Dolly and Beulah exclaim in awed voices.]
—Of course it’s not normal behavior; it’s downright lunacy, but still that’s no excuse for it! And when she called up at five, about one hour ago, it wasn’t to ask about Jabe, oh, no, she didn’t mention his name. She asked if Ruby Lightfoot had delivered a case of Seagram’s. Yais, she just shouted that question and hung up the phone, before I could— [She crosses and goes off.]
BEULAH [going into confectionery]: Oh, I understand, now! Now I see what she’s up to! Electric moon, cutout silver-paper stars and artificial vines? Why, it’s her father’s wine garden on Moon Lake she’s turned this room into!
DOLLY [suddenly as she sits in shoe chair]: Here she comes, here she comes!
[The Temple Sisters retreat from view in confectionery as Lady enters the store. She wears a hooded rain-cape and carries a large paper shopping bag and paper carton box.]
LADY: Go on, ladies, don’t stop, my ears are burning!
BEULAH [coming to upstage right-center]: —Lady, oh, Lady, Lady. . . .
LADY: Why d’you speak my name in that pitiful voice? Hanh? [Throws back hood of cape, her eyes blazing, and places bag and box on counter.] Val? Val! Where is that boy that works here?
[Dolly shakes her head.]
I guess he’s havin’ a T-bone steak with French fries and coleslaw fo’ ninety-five cents at the Blue Bird. . . .
[Sounds in confectionery.]
Who’s in the confectionery, is that you, Val?
[Temple Sisters emerge and stalk past her.]
Going, girls?
[They go out of store.]
Yes, gone! [She laughs and throws off rain-cape, onto counter, revealing a low-cut gown, triple strand of pearls and a purple satin-ribboned corsage.]
BEULAH [sadly]: How long have I known you, Lady?
LADY [going behind counter, unpacks paper hats and whistles]: A long time, Beulah. I think you remember when my people come here on a banana boat from Palermo, Sicily, by way of Caracas, Venezuela, yes, with a grind-organ and a monkey my papa had bought in Venezuela. I was not much bigger than the monkey, ha ha! You remember the monkey? The man that sold Papa the monkey said it was a very young monkey, but he was a liar, it was a very old monkey, it was on its last legs, ha ha ha! But it was a well-dressed monkey. [Coming to right of counter.] It had a green velvet suit and a little red cap that it tipped and a tambourine that it passed around for money, ha ha ha. . . . The grind-organ played and the monkey danced in the sun, ha ha! —“O Sole Mio, Da Da Da daaa. . .!” [She sits in chair at counter.] —One day, the monkey danced too much in the sun and it was a very old monkey and it dropped dead. . . . My Papa, he turned to the people, he made them a bow and he said, “The show is over, the monkey is dead.” Ha ha!
[Slight pause. Then Dolly pipes up venomously:]
DOLLY: Ain’t it wonderful Lady can be so brave?
BEULAH: Yaiss, wonderful! Hanh. . . .
LADY: For me the show is not over, the monkey is not dead yet! [Then suddenly:] Val, is that you, Val?
[Someone has entered the confectionery door, out of sight, and the draught of air has set the wind-chimes tinkling wildly. Lady rushes forward but stops short as Carol appears. She wears a trench coat and a white sailor’s cap with a turned-down brim, inscribed with the name of a vessel and a date, past or future, memory or anticipation.]
DOLLY: Well, here’s your first customer, Lady.
LADY [going behind counter]: —Carol, that room ain’t open.
CAROL: There’s a big sign outside that says “Open Tonite!”
LADY: It ain’t open to
you.
CAROL: I have to stay here a while. They stopped my car, you see, I don’t have a license; my license has been revoked and I have to find someone to drive me across the river.
LADY: You can call a taxi.
CAROL: I heard that the boy that works for you is leaving tonight and I—
LADY: Who said he’s leaving?
CAROL [crossing to counter]: Sheriff Talbott. The county marshal suggested I get him to drive me over the river since he’d be crossing it too.
LADY: You got some mighty wrong information!
CAROL: Where is he? I don’t see him?
LADY: Why d’you keep coming back here bothering that boy? He’s not interested in you! Why would he be leaving here tonight? [Door opens off as she comes from behind counter.] Val, is that you, Val?
[Conjure Man enters through confectionery, mumbling rapidly, holding out something. Beulah and Dolly take flight out the door with cries of revulsion.]
No conjure stuff, go away!
[He starts to withdraw.]
CAROL [crossing to upstage right-center]: Uncle! The Choctaw cry! I’ll give you a dollar for it.
[Lady turns away with a gasp, with a gesture of refusal. The Negro nods, then throws back his turkey neck and utters a series of sharp barking sounds that rise to a sustained cry of great intensity and wildness. The cry produces a violent reaction in the building. Beulah and Dolly run out of the store. Lady does not move but she catches her breath. Dog and Pee Wee run down the stairs with ad libs and hustle the Negro out of the store, ignoring Lady, as their wives call: “Pee Wee!” and “Dawg!” outside on the walk. Val sweeps back the alcove curtain and appears as if the cry were his cue. Above, in the sick room, hoarse, outraged shouts that subside with exhaustion. Carol crosses downstage and speaks to the audience and to herself.]
CAROL: Something is still wild in the country! This country used to be wild, the men and women were wild and there was a wild sort of sweetness in their hearts, for each other, but now it’s sick with neon, it’s broken out sick, with neon, like most other places. . . . I’ll wait outside in my car. It’s the fastest thing on wheels in Two River County! [She goes out of the store right. Lady stares at Val with great asking eyes, a hand to her throat.]
LADY [with false boldness]: Well, ain’t you going with her?
VAL: I’m going with no one I didn’t come here with. And I come here with no one.
LADY: Then get into your white jacket. I need your services in that room there tonight.
[Val regards her steadily for several beats.]
[Clapping her hands together twice.] Move, move, stop goofing! The Delta Brilliant lets out in half’n hour and they’ll be driving up here. You got to shave ice for the setups!
VAL [as if he thought she’d gone crazy]: “Shave ice for the setups”? [He moves up to counter.]
LADY: Yes, an’ call Ruby Lightfoot, tell her I need me a dozen more half-pints of Seagram’s. They all call for Seven-and-Sevens. You know how t’ sell bottle goods under a counter? It’s OK. We’re gonna git paid for protection. [Gasps, touching her diaphragm.] But one thing you gotta watch out for is sellin’ to minors. Don’t serve liquor to minors. Ask for his driver’s license if they’s any doubt. Anybody born earlier than—let’s see, twenty-one from—oh, I’ll figure it later. Hey! Move! Move! Stop goofing!
VAL [placing guitar on counter]: —You’re the one that’s goofing, not me, Lady.
LADY: Move, I said, move!
VAL: What kick are you on, are you on a benny kick, Lady? ’Ve you washed down a couple of bennies with a pot of black coffee t’ make you come on strong for th’ three o’clock show? [His mockery is gentle, almost tender, but he has already made a departure; he is back in the all-night bars with the B-girls and raffish entertainers. He stands at counter as she rushes about. As she crosses between the two rooms, he reaches out to catch hold of her bare arm and he pulls her to him and grips her arms.]
LADY: Hey!
VAL: Will you quit thrashin’ around like a hooked catfish?
LADY: Go git in y’r white jacket an’—
VAL: Sit down. I want to talk to you.
LADY: I don’t have time.
VAL: I got to reason with you.
LADY: It’s not possible to.
VAL: You can’t open a night-place here this night.
LADY: You bet your sweet life I’m going to!
VAL: Not me, not my sweet life!
LADY: I’m betting my life on it! Sweet or not sweet, I’m—
VAL: Yours is yours, mine is mine. . . . [He releases her with a sad shrug.]
LADY: You don’t get the point, huh? There’s a man up there that set fire to my father’s wine garden and I lost my life in it, yeah, I lost my life in it, three lives was lost in it, two born lives and one—not. . . . I was made to commit a murder by him up there! [Has frozen momentarily.] —I want that man to see the wine garden come open again when he’s dying! I want him to hear it coming open again here tonight! While he’s dying. It’s necessary, no power on earth can stop it. Hell, I don’t even want it, it’s just necessary, it’s just something’s got to be done to square things away, to, to, to—be not defeated! You get me? Just to be not defeated! Ah, oh, I won’t be defeated, not again, in my life! [Embraces him.] Thank you for staying here with me! —God bless you for it. . . . Now please go and get in your white jacket . . .
[Val looks at her as if he were trying to decide between a natural sensibility of heart and what his life’s taught him since he left Witches Bayou. Then he sighs again, with the same slight, sad shrug, and crosses into alcove to put on a jacket and remove from under his cot a canvas-wrapped package of his belongings. Lady takes paper hats and carnival stuff from counter, crosses into confectionery and puts them on the tables, then starts back but stops short as she sees Val come out of alcove with his snakeskin jacket and luggage.]
LADY: That’s not your white jacket, that’s that snakeskin jacket you had on when you come here.
VAL: I come and I go in this jacket.
LADY: Go, did you say?
VAL: Yes, ma’am, I did, I said go. All that stays to be settled is a little matter of wages.
[The dreaded thing’s happened to her. This is what they call “the moment of truth” in the bull ring, when the matador goes in over the horns of the bull to plant the mortal sword-thrust.]
LADY: —So you’re—cutting out, are you?
VAL: My gear’s all packed. I’m catchin’ the southbound bus.
LADY: Uh-huh, in a pig’s eye. You’re not conning me, mister. She’s waiting for you outside in her high-powered car and you’re—
[Sudden footsteps on stairs. They break apart, Val puts suitcase down, drawing back into shadow, as Nurse Porter appears on the stair landing.]
NURSE: Mrs. Torrance, are you down there?
LADY [crossing to foot of stairs]: Yeah. I’m here. I’m back.
NURSE: Can I talk to you up here about Mr. Torrance?
LADY [shouting to Nurse]: I’ll be up in a minute.
[Door closes above. Lady turns to Val.] Okay, now, mister. You’re scared about something, ain’t you?
VAL: I been threatened with violence if I stay here.
LADY: I got paid for protection in this county, plenty paid for it, and it covers you too.
VAL: No, ma’am. My time is up here.
LADY: Y’ say that like you’d served a sentence in jail.
VAL: I got in deeper than I meant to, Lady.
LADY: Yeah, and how about me?
VAL [going to her]: I would of cut out before you got back to the store, but I wanted to tell you something I never told no one before. [Places hand on her shoulder.] I feel a true love for you, Lady! [He kisses her.] I’ll wait for you out of this county, just name the time and the . . .
LADY [moving back]
: Oh, don’t talk about love, not to me. It’s easy to say “Love, Love!” with fast and free transportation waiting right out the door for you!
VAL: D’you remember some things I told you about me the night we met here?
LADY [crossing to right-center]: Yeah, many things. Yeah, temperature of a dog. And some bird, oh, yeah, without legs so it had to sleep on the wind!
VAL [through her speech]: Naw, not that; not that.
LADY: And how you could burn down a woman? I said “Bull!” I take that back. You can! You can burn down a woman and stamp on her ashes to make sure the fire is put out!
VAL: I mean what I said about gettin’ away from . . .
LADY: How long’ve you held this first steady job in your life?
VAL: Too long, too long!
LADY: Four months and five days, mister. All right! How much pay have you took?
VAL: I told you to keep out all but—
LADY: Y’r living expenses. I can give you the figures to a dime. Eighty-five bucks, no, ninety? Chicken feed, mister! Y’know how much you got coming? IF you get it? I don’t need paper to figure, I got it all in my head. You got five hundred and eighty-six bucks coming to you, not, not chicken feed, that. But, mister. [Gasps for breath.] —If you try to walk out on me, now, tonight, without notice! —You’re going to get just nothing! A great big zero. . . .
[Somebody hollers at door off right: “Hey! You open?” She rushes toward it shouting, “CLOSED! CLOSED! GO AWAY!” —Val crosses to the cashbox. She turns back toward him, gasps.]
Now you watch your next move and I’ll watch mine. You open that cashbox and I swear I’ll throw open that door and holler, clerk’s robbing the store!
VAL: —Lady?
LADY [fiercely]: Hanh?
VAL: —Nothing, you’ve—
LADY: —Hanh?
VAL: Blown your stack. I will go without pay.
LADY [coming to center]: Then you ain’t understood me! With or without pay, you’re staying!
VAL: I’ve got my gear. [Picks up suitcase. She rushes to seize his guitar.]
Orpheus Descending and Suddenly Last Summer Page 9