FRANNY
Elisabeth Moss
DOLLY
Domenica Cameron-Scorsese
SALLY
Susan May Pratt
PHIL
Jesse Pennington
OLDER FRANNY/GRANDMA
Penny Fuller
CHARACTERS
FRANNY, seventeen
DOLLY, her sister, fifteen
SALLY, their cousin, twenties
PHIL, Sally’s husband, twenties
GRANDMA (Marjorie), Franny, Dolly and Sally’s grandmother
OLDER FRANNY (she also plays Grandma)
SETTING
An apartment, Sullivan Street, Greenwich Village, 1957
I believe I essentially remain what I’ve almost always been—a narrator, but one with extremely pressing personal needs.
—J. D. SALINGER
from Seymour: An Introduction
PROLOGUE
Lights up on a tenement apartment, Sullivan Street, Greenwich Village. June 1957. Living room and kitchen are combined: chairs, kitchen table, refrigerator, counter, sofa, etc. Doors to two small bedrooms, one closed, one open. A door to the hallway. The bathroom is in the hallway and shared.
An open window through which we hear the sounds of Sullivan Street—traffic, voices, and those of Bleecker around the corner—distant jazz from a club (mostly horns, something like Miles Davis’s Sketches of Spain). Except for what comes from the window, the only light comes from the open bedroom and it is very dim.
Late night. Late June. It is hot.
Slowly we begin to hear noises from the closed bedroom, a groan, a cry. A couple are making love. They reach a climax and the woman shouts out.
Pause.
Bedroom door opens. A young man, Phil, comes out. He is naked. In the bedroom, a young woman, Sally, sits on the edge of the bed, also naked. They are in their twenties and married.
Phil, wiping the sweat off his face, then onto some furniture as he passes, heads for the refrigerator. He opens the door—light—and takes out a bottle of beer. He opens it and drinks as he looks out the window; jazz in the distance.
He breathes heavily, catching his breath; he goes and turns on an electric fan. Sally comes into the room as Phil is turning on the fan.
PHIL (Holding up his beer): You want a—? (Sip)
SALLY: Sh-sh. Sh-sh.
(She gestures toward the other bedroom. They listen for an instant, then relax, smile, even giggle as if they have gotten away with something. She nods, and goes to light a cigarette. He hands her the bottle, she takes a big sip, and they both end up looking out the window. He sits with her on the sofa and holds her, kisses her neck, she responds. Sips again, smokes. They listen to the music. She moves to it a bit.)
(After a deep sigh) God is it hot. There’s no air out there. (Looks at the fan) Does that reach—? I can’t feel anything.
PHIL: Let me try.
(As he stands, a metal object—a baby’s rattle—falls on the floor. The noise makes the couple suddenly stop and turn to the open bedroom, expecting to hear something now. There is silence. This at first makes them smile, and Sally takes another sip or drag, but then she stops, looks concerned at Phil and heads for this bedroom.)
Sh-sh. Don’t—
SALLY: I won’t.
(She goes into the bedroom. Phil plays with the rattle.)
(In the bedroom) Phil? Phil? (Louder) Phil!! Come here!
PHIL (Hurrying to the bedroom): Sally? What’s—? (Turns on the bedroom light—bright light)
SALLY (At the same time): Anna? Anna!!!! (Nearly screaming. In the bedroom, holds up a baby. Screams) Phil!!!!!!
(Sally begins to cry and scream. Phil tries to take Anna from her, but she pushes him away.)
What’s wrong with Anna? Something’s wrong. Phil!
PHIL: Don’t shake her! Anna?
SALLY: Phil, she’s blue!
PHIL: Wake up, wake up.
SALLY: Make her wake up! Please, help her, Phil. Help her!
(He runs out of the bedroom into their bedroom. He comes out trying to put on his pants. The jazz continues from Bleecker Street.)
PHIL: Oh God, Jesus, Anna, please, please.
SALLY: Sweetie. Wake up, dear. Open your eyes. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s here. Wake up. Phil!
PHIL (Screams): Sally!!!!
(Lights fade out.)
SCENE 1
The Older Franny speaks to the audience.
OLDER FRANNY: Cousin Sally’s and her husband’s baby was already dead when they found her in her bed. “Crib death” was what was written on the death certificate. Father said, “Who the hell knows why?” would have been just as appropriate.
I was seventeen. This death which swept as a tidal wave over the lives of Sally and Phil, was by the time it reached my distant shore—in Millbrook, New York—but a small almost unnoticed ripple. Perhaps I sent a condolence card. Or maybe I spoke to her briefly during one of her calls with Grandma. Or perhaps it was merely a “poor Sally” thought I had, which never even got expressed.
I had, after all, other things on my mind that summer. There was a boyfriend, with whom I had had my first sex, and he was now at NYU. And I loved him. Though his letters were beginning to get, if not less frequent, then less—interesting. Was this my fault? Or his? I was in the midst of my novel about the rivalries between five sisters in Victorian Yorkshire England, which consumed my summer afternoons. There was my new stepmother. I thought about her a lot. My mother I think I was adamantly choosing not to think about. So that took some time too. And then there was my name, my new, chosen, changed name. Changed from the matronly and phoney “Frances” to—Franny. My homage, I liked to call it, to the beautiful, frail, lost, fair-skinned, funny, faint-prone heroine of my life and J. D. Salinger’s story. I saw myself navigating my way through life’s sea of phonies. I was missing only her raccoon coat, but it was still summer—and my birthday was coming up. Anyway, as I said, I had a lot to think about.
So when Grandma offered to take my sister and me on a trip to New York City, it simply didn’t occur to me that our purpose was to console my grieving cousin, but rather seemed the very understandable fulfullment of a seventeen-year-old’s desire, if not need, to get the hell out of Millbrook and be hurtled headlong into that swirl of life called New York.
My little sister, too, had her own plans for this trip.
We took the two-hour train trip from Dover Plains to Grand Central, and climbed down into the subway and back up again downtown, up into the noise and music of the Village. We then walked down Bleecker with its clubs, doors left open because of the summer’s heat, their sounds like breaths, puffs, exhaled into the street, into clouds of music we walked through, until we got here, on Sullivan, in the heart of Greenwich Village, which for my money and in my dreams was the very soul and center of the whole goddamn universe.
So it was on a Tuesday night, in August, 1957, barely six weeks after the baby—Anna’s—tragic and inexplicable and, by me, nearly forgotten death, that my sister, age fifteen—
(Dolly enters from the hallway, small suitcase in hand.)
And me, age seventeen—
(Seventeen-year-old Franny enters, looking around excitedly. She too carries a small bag. Phil has come in with them, holding a larger suitcase.)
And our Grandma—she was about the same age then as I am now, so I’ll be her—arrived, ready to spend two exciting and unforgettable days—of real life.
(Older Franny now plays Grandma throughout. August 1957. Eleven P.M. Jazz, though much more percussive than before, is now heard through the window, as well as the sound and noises of the street. Sally has come out of her bedroom and is greeting everyone. Everyone is speaking at once.)
SALLY (To Dolly): Look at you. Who let you grow up?! (Laughs)
FRANNY: Where should we put—? (“my bag”)
PHIL: Anywhere.
SALLY (Over this, continuing to Dolly): Does your father know how much you’ve grown up?
GRANDMA: He sees her every day.
SALLY: I’m kidding her, Grandma. (To Dolly, not letting go of the subject) I remember when you used to be—
PHIL: That’s enough, Sally.
SALLY: Enough of what, I don’t understand? What am I doing?
(Awkward moment, then)
GRANDMA (To Sally): Oh dear, it’s good to see you.
SALLY (Pointing to Franny): And you, I knew you’d grow up.
FRANNY (To Phil): What does that mean?
(He shrugs.)
DOLLY: Where’s the bathroom?
SALLY: It’s in the hall. We share—
GRANDMA (Looking around now): What a nice apartment. (It isn’t.) What’s that music—?
SALLY (Overexcited): There’s a jazz club.
(To Dolly as if to a child) You know what a jazz club is?
FRANNY (To Grandma): We passed it, Grandma.
DOLLY (To Phil): The bathroom’s in the hall?
SALLY (Hearing this): It’s perfectly safe.
FRANNY: I’ll go with you.
SALLY: Does she need someone to—?
PHIL: They just got here, Sally. I’ll get you a towel— (Moves toward his and Sally’s bedroom)
SALLY: I put towels on their bed.
(Phil heads for the spare bedroom.)
GRANDMA: Are we staying in—? (“there”) How lovely. (Barely concealing her disgust for the place)
SALLY: You and Dolly will share— Is that all right with—
DOLLY: I heard. I’ve prepared myself.
(Laughter.)
SALLY (To Franny): And you, it’s either the couch, or we could put down a few cushions in the bedroom, if that would—
FRANNY: I’ll think about it.
SALLY: Who’s hungry? There’s plenty of—
DOLLY: I have to use the—
SALLY (To Phil who has a towel now): Phil, show her—
FRANNY: I’m going with her.
(Franny takes the towel and goes out into the hall with Dolly. Awkward moment. Franny appears again.)
Which door?
PHIL: The only one on the right.
FRANNY: Do we knock or—?
SALLY: No one’s in there. I was just in there.
(Franny goes.)
I can’t believe how the little one’s grown. (To Grandma) Thank you for coming.
(They hug.)
PHIL: Yes, thank you, Marjorie. It’s good to see you.
SALLY (To say something): And Fran’s a woman now—
GRANDMA: Franny. We must now call her—Franny. She’ll tell you why. (To Phil) And how is work?
(He nods.)
You two are such a lovely couple.
(No one knows what to say.)
SALLY: Let me get you something to—
GRANDMA: We had sandwiches on the train. I brought sandwiches. We hardly ate them. Are they excited. (Beat) You won’t believe what Dolly’s done. You want to know what she and I are doing tomorrow?
(Franny returns with Dolly behind her.)
FRANNY (In the doorway): I think it’s locked.
SALLY: No one was in there a minute ago. Philip, help them.
FRANNY: I didn’t want to push too hard.
PHIL (To Dolly, as they go out): God are you big!
FRANNY (Teasing): What about me?
PHIL: You—you’re still a kid and you always will be.
(Tickling her, laughter, the door closes behind them. Short pause.)
SALLY (To Grandma): They’re young women. (Starts to light a cigarette) I hope you’ll be comfortable. It’s not Millbrook.
(A siren goes by outside.)
You get used to the . . .
(She looks around. Clearly Grandma does not know what to say. Then pointing to the spare bedroom.)
That was the baby’s room. (Suddenly changing the subject) What has Dolly—?
GRANDMA (Confused): What?
SALLY: You were saying—Dolly’s done some—
GRANDMA: You won’t believe it. You know she’s never been to New York before—
SALLY: Really? I didn’t know.
GRANDMA: You couldn’t believe how excited— “Peel her off the roof!” That’s what her father was saying this morning. We’re seeing My Fair Lady.
(Sally is confused.)
That’s what Dolly did. She organized—all by herself—tickets to . . . Her father paid for them of course—but she wrote off and— That’s what we’re doing tomorrow in the afternoon.
SALLY: That’s exciting.
GRANDMA: Aren’t you proud of her? I couldn’t have done that at her age. She wrote away and everything.
(Phil returns.)
SALLY: What was—?
PHIL: It was stuck. The toilet door. Franny is staying with her.
GRANDMA: You remembered to call her Franny now—
PHIL: She told me.
GRANDMA: Do you know that short story—?
PHIL: I do. (Beat) And it’s good. Marjorie, don’t you want anything to—? (Heads toward the kitchen area)
SALLY: I offered. They’ve eaten sandwiches. No one is hungry.
PHIL: What about something to drink? You must be—
SALLY: She doesn’t want anything. I asked.
GRANDMA: Actually, I am a little— (“thirsty”)
PHIL (To Sally): Why didn’t you offer—
SALLY: I did!
PHIL: You want a beer? There’s Cokes, I’ll bet the girls would like—
SALLY: I’ll get them—
PHIL (Over this): I’ll get them!
(Pause as Phil goes to refrigerator and starts taking out Cokes.)
(The same safe subject) Dolly’s gotten big, hasn’t she?
SALLY: Like she all of a sudden sprang up. (To Grandma) You probably don’t notice it as—
PHIL: She notices it. (Takes out glasses for the drinks)
SALLY: Maybe they don’t want glasses. Kids like to drink from the bottle.
PHIL: We’ll give them the choice then.
(Short pause.)
GRANDMA: Dolly didn’t take a sheep to the Dutchess County Fair this summer. So I suppose that’s over.
PHIL: She’s growing up.
SALLY: I used to take my sheep. I used to sleep with my sheep overnight. A lot of kids did. (Beat) It was great.
PHIL: I’ll bet.
SALLY: Bull. You hate the country. You hate animals. You hate—
PHIL: I don’t hate animals.
SALLY: You think all farmers are—
PHIL: I do not.
SALLY (To Grandma): He thinks our whole family are—
PHIL: I do not! (Beat. To Grandma) I don’t.
SALLY (Changing the subject): Dolly’s never been to New York before. She and Grandma are seeing My Fair Lady.
PHIL (To Sally): You wanted to see that.
SALLY: I’m jealous.
PHIL (Moving toward the spare bedroom): Franny says she wants to sleep in there. I’ll set up the cushions—
SALLY: I’ll do that.
PHIL: I don’t mind.
SALLY: Which sheets are you going to—?
PHIL: Which sheets do you want me to use?
SALLY (Exasperated): I’ll do it.
PHIL: I can make up a bed on a floor. I’m not that incompetent.
(They look at each other.)
SALLY: Go ahead then.
GRANDMA: I can help if . . .
(They ignore her. Phil goes into the bedroom. We see him through the open door as he makes up the bed. Sally goes to the refrigerator and starts taking a few things out.)
SALLY: I made a few things . . .
GRANDMA: Sally, it’s after eleven. The kids should be going to bed.
(Pause) What did you make? (Goes and looks over the dishes, turns to listen to music) Does that go on all night? The music.
SALLY: What music? (Laughs a little too hard) That’s a joke Phil and I . . . Yeah. It does.
(Franny and Dolly return.)
DOLLY: What a neat bathroom. I can’t
wait to take a bath in that tub.
GRANDMA: Phil’s making up your bed—
SALLY: So—My Fair Lady. Aren’t you lucky. I’m jealous. (Continues to set out food as she talks. To Dolly) I have a friend who auditioned for a replacement in that show. She was in my acting class with me.
DOLLY: Really?
FRANNY (Looking around): This is so neat. Look at this.
(She goes to the window. Dolly follows.)
SALLY: Don’t get too close to that—
FRANNY: I’m not going to—
SALLY: I’ve told Phil a thousand times we need a bar, an iron bar, so no one . . . No child . . .
FRANNY: I’m not a child.
SALLY: I didn’t mean— Doesn’t anyone want something to eat?!
(Comes out almost as a cry, nearly in tears, trying not to cry) I made things to eat.
(Phil comes to the doorway.)
PHIL (Impatient): Sally.
SALLY (Crying): I’m trying not to!
(Franny and Dolly are confused, they look at Grandma who begins to push them toward their bedroom.)
GRANDMA: You girls have a big day tomorrow—
DOLLY: Why is Sally—?
PHIL (As they near him while heading for their bedroom; to Franny): So college! (To the others) Franny says she’s looking at colleges!
GRANDMA (To Sally): I didn’t tell you, she’s going to take a tour—
PHIL (Teasing): NYU!
SALLY (To Franny): I didn’t know. No one tells me—
FRANNY: I have a friend who goes there. And—she wants me to look—
PHIL: And your father? Doesn’t he know? He’d have a fit if you left Upstate— (All three are in the bedroom now) I can just hear him: “We have excellent colleges up here, young lady.”
DOLLY: Sounds like Father.
FRANNY: Except for the “young lady” stuff. I’ve gotten him to stop that. I told him, “Another young lady, Dad, and this young lady is going to burn down one of your best barns.” I meant it too.
(Phil, who obviously enjoys playing with these girls, goes: “Ohhh that scared him.”
Goodnight Children Everywhere and Other Plays Page 32