PAUL (Erupting): If the man wasn’t scared then why the hell are we here?!! And he hated all right! But the only thing he really hated was himself!! (Beat) Isn’t that now obvious?
(Pause.)
ALICE (Holding up the album): You all might be interested in this. The photos go back years. You’re all in here.
ELIZABETH: Pass it around.
ALICE: In a minute, when I’m done. (Continues to look through the album as she lights a cigarette)
ALFRED: I’m all in favor of keeping your sense of humor about things. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing of any value that we have left. And if Americans wish to make fools of themselves in front of us—day after day after day after day after day—what are we supposed to do, cover our eyes? Well I don’t. (Shrugs) So shoot me, Paul.
GEMMA (To Paul): And I don’t know what you’re talking about. (To Elizabeth) Have you heard him do his American accent?
TOM: American accent—??
PAUL (At the same time): Once. I did it once!
GEMMA (Over this): Get off! Let’s hear it, Paul!
ELIZABETH: When did he—?
GEMMA: At his wedding!
PAUL: I only do it in England!
ALFRED: Come on, Paul.
GEMMA (Over this): Tom here can help you improve it!
(Elizabeth, Gemma, Alfred and Tom are now all shouting to Paul to do his American accent. He is resisting—all in good humor with a lot of sisterly pushing and nudging: “Please, Paul!” “We want to hear, Paul!” “I’ll bet you can’t do one!” etc.
As the noise reaches its peak, with people banging on the table and hitting glasses with knives, urging Paul to do his “American”—Sophie enters in a nightgown and robe.)
SOPHIE: What’s . . .?
(They see her and stop. Short pause.)
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . You were making so much noise, I didn’t know what . . . I see—you were just having fun. (Beat) Good for you. I’m sure it’s not easy to find much to laugh about on a day like today. I’m sorry if I interrupted. (Turns to go)
PAUL: Sophie, sit down if you—
SOPHIE (Interrupting): I don’t think I’m dressed for a party. (Beat) Come up when you feel like it, Paul. When you’re ready. I’ll wait up. (Goes)
(Pause. Paul stands, looks at his sisters, then picks up a knife, and says in his best “Brando” or “Pacino”:)
PAUL: Hey woman, how come you just don’t cut the whole thing off!
(He turns back to his sisters, smiles and they burst out laughing. Through the laughter they shout: “He’s good!” “That was very good.”
Alice continues to look through the album. As the sisters laugh, Sophie returns.)
SOPHIE: Perhaps I will join you. (Goes and sits next to Paul) I can’t sleep anyway. I told Claire I’d call at seven—her time.
GEMMA: How is Claire, you haven’t said a word—
ELIZABETH (Over this): I meant to ask . . .
SOPHIE: She’s very upset, of course. She adored Harry. Even though they’d only met the one time at the wedding. Still, we always put her on the phone when we called. She said, when we told her—of course we didn’t say how—she said, “So how many grandparents do I have now?” (Smiles) She’s going to write you each a note.
(Beat.)
ELIZABETH (To Tom): Claire is Sophie’s nine year old—
TOM: I guessed.
SOPHIE: She’s devoted to Paul. Worships him, doesn’t she? (Beat) I’m jealous. (Smiles)
GEMMA (To Elizabeth): What time is it?
ELIZABETH: Too early to go to bed.
(Short pause, then:)
SCENE 5
The kitchen. An hour or so later.
Alice, Alfred and Elizabeth are out for a walk.
Sophie sits at the table, talking on the phone to her daughter in California: what they are saying cannot be heard. Gemma is beginning to clean up the table, piling dishes, scraping plates, etc., and carrying them off to the sink and garbage. Tom and Paul sit across from each other, talking.
TOM (In the middle of a story): “What are you up for, dear?” I ask. (In American) “It’s a play by Oscar Wilder. Do you know him?” (Own voice) “Not for years. Have you done English accents before on stage?” (American) “I was in a show by George Bernard Shaw once.” “Funny, I hadn’t realized he’d written—shows. And what part did you play?” (American) “I was one of those dancers, you know, in the ballroom scene.”
PAUL: What ballroom—??
TOM: My Fair Lady.
PAUL: Of course!
TOM (Over this): Last year in her prep school. (American) “I wore the pink dress?” “I should have guessed just by looking at you. What else could you have played?” (Sips his drink)
PAUL: Once—
TOM: Just a second. (Continues) I reply, after listening to her act—I use the term loosely—for a few moments: “I can see there is nothing I can teach you.” (American) “Oh, but there must be!” She had your typical American sense of irony. Anyway, to make a long story short, I tried. Her mother paid me fifty bucks to go and see her Gwendolen or (American) “Gwendolen” is how her fellow actors—again the term is used with freedom bordering on abandonment—referred to her character on stage. In the end I would hazard to say she was the most authentic thing in the whole evening. (Beat) I met the director after the “show,” which by the way is the appropriate term for what I saw; they, the Americans, have that right—he was, I would say, the most tired human being I have ever been exposed to. He literally fell asleep while he was talking to me. But then I’d learned that this was something like the ninth prep school production of Importance of Being Earnest he’d directed in—I think he said—the last three weeks. But maybe I didn’t hear him right.
(Gemma returns from the sink and picks up more dishes.)
PAUL: Where in England was he from?
TOM: He was from England, you knew! Bristol, he said. But he may have only been mumbling that in his sleep—a memory? Of something else perhaps?
(Sophie suddenly laughs at something her daughter has told her on the phone. Paul looks at her then back at Tom, who pours himself more wine from the bottle.)
He perked up after a couple of drinks though. His “Gwendolen’s” mum was paying. Then after we were in this bar for a while, the mum says, (American) “So what did you really think?” To me. I look at the director, and he says, could I wait a minute, he’s really interested in what I have to say, but he has to go to the loo. He gets up, goes—and we never see him again.
(Sips his drinks) I suppose he had another show to direct. He did say, sometime during the evening, that the high point of a busy artistic year was being allowed—by someplace somewhere—to do a production of a Chekhov play. He couldn’t recall which one.
(Gemma laughs at this.)
PAUL: My favorite—
TOM: I haven’t quite—
PAUL (At the same time): I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—
TOM (At the same time): But go ahead, please . . .
(Beat.)
PAUL: My favorite’s . . .
(Gemma stops to listen.)
I’m in line at the grocery store. I obviously must have said something, because this fellow behind me, hearing the accent I suppose, says (American) “What the fuck is going on with that queen of yours? Why she letting ’em push her around! If I was queen I wouldn’t let nobody push me around. That lady needs some balls!” (Smiles) They say whatever comes into their heads, I swear. There’s no—editing.
(Beat.)
TOM: That’s funny. (Continues with his story) So—the mum, she says, “I thought every penny I’d laid out for those lessons was worth it.” (Looks at Paul and shrugs) I suppose I must have done some good. I don’t know. (Beat) I can’t work miracles. But sometimes I guess I do OK.
(Paul nods.)
PAUL: It can be a strange place.
GEMMA (As she picks up dishes): Sometimes—I pretend, when I’m sitting out on my porch, painting—I l
ook out across the landscape and I say: this is Africa. Like a hundred, hundred and fifty years ago. Africa. (Starts to leave with the dishes) Or India. It makes me feel better for some reason. (Goes)
(Sophie holds out the phone.)
SOPHIE: Paul, talk to Claire. I have to get a book to read to her.
PAUL: I’ll get it for you—
SOPHIE (Over this): It’s in my bag. You’ll never find it. And besides, Claire’s dying to talk to you. (Into the phone) Here’s Paul, dear. He’s grabbing the phone from me, he wants that much to talk to you.
(He obviously has not been grabbing the phone; she now hands it to him. As she does, to Tom:)
I always read to Claire at night. (Goes)
PAUL (Into the phone): Hi! What did you do today? I’m sure you already have, I’ll ask her to tell me. What’s the weather like?
(Gemma returns from the sink.)
TOM (To Gemma): I had one student. This was when I’d only been here a few years. My wife couldn’t believe this.
GEMMA (Interrupting): Your wife? I didn’t know you were—
TOM: We’re divorced. (Continues with the story) He comes in. His shirt’s unbuttoned down to— And it’s goddamn winter. (Laughs)
GEMMA: Was she English?
TOM: My wife? Yes. She’s back in London now. (Beat) When we were breaking up, I used to say to her (In American) “What’s the matter, can’t you take it?” (Smiles) She couldn’t.
(Beat.)
GEMMA: I didn’t mean to be—
TOM: That’s—
GEMMA: I just suddenly realized. I don’t know anything about you. Here you are at . . .
TOM: Alice wanted me to stay—
GEMMA: I wasn’t saying— Of course you’re . . . (Stops herself) Kids?
TOM: Six and nine. Boys. In London.
(Beat. Then, changing the subject before it becomes too personal:)
GEMMA: Anyway, you were saying about a student . . .
TOM: He comes into my class, this kid really, and he says to me, in front of everyone, (American) “I want to try some of that British bullshit acting, you know—with the funny voice.”
(He laughs, then she laughs, not quite understanding.)
PAUL (Covering the phone): I missed that.
(Tom pours himself more to drink.)
GEMMA (To Paul): A student of Tom’s—he wanted to learn the way the British act.
(Paul doesn’t understand.)
TOM: Another story! A young woman—she’s been a model, now she wants to act. So I’ve asked her to prepare something. Not that I’m going to reject anyone. God forbid that we have standards.
(Paul sets the phone on the table.)
So she recites, (American) “Thus do I ever make my fool my purse.” I ask her if she knows what she’s saying. She says that for her it means—how she shouldn’t spend so much money on clothes. She says, (American) “That may not be what it means to others, but that’s what it means to me.” (Beat) I ask her: does she know what character she is acting? She says, (American) “Iago.” Very good. I ask her: did she know that Iago was a—man? She says, (American) “So what? My last drama teacher—” “Drama. Drama.” My favorite American word. “My last drama teacher said there were no male or female parts anymore—only people parts.” I want to say, I think your teacher could have chosen a better word than “parts,” but I bite my tongue. (Opens his mouth) See? Seven years in this country and there’s permanent teeth marks there. (Continues) “Only people parts.” Interesting. Why not? I say to myself, she’s paid in advance. Then about a half hour later, for the hell of it or maybe I’m just wanting to get into the swing of this “people part” notion, I say, “Now that you’ve done your Iago, what about trying Othello?” (Beat) You’d have thought I’d hit her in the face. (American) “Othello,” she says in her lovely American, “I couldn’t do Othello.” “Why is that, my dear?” “Othello is a black man.” Or is it “African-American” now? I don’t know and I don’t give a fuck. Anyway, “A black man. And only a black man can play a black man.” (Beat) I asked if she felt that was in any way contradictory to what she’d said about “people parts?” And she said, she didn’t see why it was. (Pause) They don’t see themselves. They don’t question themselves.
PAUL: And the things you can’t say. Sometimes I think a decent English comic would be in prison in a wink in this country.
GEMMA (Entering from the sink): I thought you loved America?
PAUL: You can love something and still find fault with it.
(Sophie enters with a book.)
SOPHIE: I’d put it in your bag for some reason. (Notices the phone on the table)
PAUL: We had a nice talk.
(Sophie picks up the phone and begins to read from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to her daughter.)
TOM: If they weren’t so thin-skinned. Sometimes you just want to scream: “RELAX!”
(Noise outside.)
GEMMA: They’re back from their walk.
TOM: Anyway, why did you let me go on like that? It must have been very boring, you should have stopped me.
(Alfred, Alice and Elizabeth enter from their walk; Alice and Alfred wear Wellingtons.)
ALICE: What a beautiful night. You should have come with us, Gemma.
PAUL: You’ve been gone for ages. Where was there to walk? I thought Father only had a half acre.
ELIZABETH: We walked through other people’s. They don’t have fences.
(She looks to Gemma, who picks up more plates.)
GEMMA: I’ve been picking up.
ELIZABETH: You shouldn’t have to do it all.
GEMMA: I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.
SOPHIE (To everyone): Would you mind—? Please. Sh-sh. (Continues to read over the phone)
PAUL: Sophie, I don’t think you can ask everyone— It’s the kitchen—
SOPHIE: Fine! I’m sorry I’m in the way.
PAUL: No one said—
SOPHIE: I’ll go upstairs. If it isn’t a big bother could someone hang up the receiver when I get to the phone upstairs? (Goes, carrying her book)
ELIZABETH: Is that the same call she was making—?
ALFRED (Taking off his Wellingtons; reads the bottom of the boots. American): “Made with pride in the U.S. of A.” (To the others) Are we still doing our American?
ALICE (Over this, to Elizabeth): I’ll look for that stomach medicine—
ELIZABETH: You said it was in the medicine chest. I’m not stupid.
GEMMA: Is something . . .?
ALFRED: Her stomach.
ELIZABETH (As she leaves the kitchen): And you could help Gemma, Paul. You’re not home. (Goes)
TOM (Standing): Let me, I—
GEMMA: You’re a guest. (Turns to Alice) Her stomach?
ALICE: It’s the emotion. She holds everything in.
ALFRED: She said it was the Chinese food. I better open another bottle. (Starts to leave for the pantry. American) “What should it be? Red or white—or blush?” (Laughs to himself and goes)
(Gemma and Paul start to head for the sink, carrying the glasses, plates, etc.)
GEMMA (As they go): I can’t believe Sophie wanted us to be quiet—
PAUL: She didn’t mean— Sometimes she says things without thinking. Who doesn’t?
(They are gone. Alice and Tom are alone. Alice suddenly sighs.)
TOM: Are you all—?
ALICE: It’s late. (Beat) And no one wants to go to sleep.
TOM: Alice—
(She turns to him.)
Take care of yourself. This can’t be easy.
(She smiles, takes his hand and pats it.)
ALICE: When we were walking— Elizabeth spent most of the time on a bench— So Alfred . . . (Beat) He asked me to go to bed with him.
TOM: He’s drunk. He’s been drinking all—
ALICE: Thank you.
TOM: I mean— I meant, don’t be too angry with him. Harry’s death . . . Everyone in this house. You can see how emotional it all is.<
br />
ALICE: Thank you, again.
TOM: What do you want me to say?
ALICE: “Do you want to go to bed with him, Alice?” (Beat) And the answer to that is . . . (Shrugs. Beat) It was very beautiful out tonight. I love the fall. There was nearly a full moon. Maybe by tomorrow night. I’m going to have a cigarette. I don’t give a shit. (Takes out a cigarette and lights it)
GEMMA (Off; calling): My God, Paul’s washing a dish!
TOM: Don’t do anything that . . . You might regret tomorrow, Alice.
ALICE: What a bullshit thing to say to me!
TOM (Over this): Then don’t ask me for my—!
ALICE: Who asked you?! (Beat) Don’t worry, I’m not stupid. I’m not going to bed with him. It’s nice being asked, though.
(Alfred enters with the wine. Short pause. He looks at both of them.)
ALFRED: Did I interrupt something? What were you talking about?
(Beat.)
ALICE: Harry. Of course.
(Elizabeth enters with the medicine.)
ELIZABETH (Entering): None of this kind of stuff ever works for me. I don’t know why I’m bothering. Could you hand me a spoon?
(Tom takes a spoon out of the drawer and hands it to her.)
GEMMA (Off): Elizabeth, look what our brother’s doing. Have you ever seen him wash a dish in his life?
ELIZABETH: I’ll get a camera! (To the others) Who’s paying for that phone call by the way? She’s still on the phone. Is she going to read the whole book to her?
ALICE: I assumed it was a credit card call.
ELIZABETH: I think we better ask Paul. (Goes off to the sink)
ALFRED: So you were talking about Harry. There were times when we’d be together, Harry and me, and I’d look at him, sipping his Scotch, and it was like I didn’t know that man at all. I had no idea what he was thinking. What he was feeling. Which is a weird feeling, when the guy looks just like you.
PAUL (Entering and heading for the upstairs): I’ll talk to her. I didn’t realize it was bothering everyone!
ELIZABETH (Following him in): Alice shouldn’t be asked to pay—
PAUL (Over this) Get off my back!
(He goes. Gemma also enters from the sink, wiping her hands. Pause. Elizabeth pours the medicine and drinks it. Finally:)
Goodnight Children Everywhere and Other Plays Page 22