Grandma goes and hugs Sally.)
SALLY: I promised myself I wouldn’t do that.
(Another hug, then:)
GRANDMA: Your father wants you home. Both of you. He’s got his eye on a nice house. I’ve seen it. (Beat) Get away from here. And come home.
SALLY (Wiping her tears): I’m an actress, Grandma. I’ve got a new teacher. I know he’ll take me. He’s going to help me with my singing. That’s what I need.
(Phil comes out of the bedroom.)
PHIL: Is it all right if Franny borrows a robe? She forgot hers.
(Sally nods. Phil goes back into the bedroom. Sally gets a robe from their bedroom, returns.)
SALLY (To Grandma): He won’t touch me, Grandma. He doesn’t want me, since . . .
(She tries not to cry. Grandma takes her hand, Sally pulls it away.)
He hates me. And I hate him.
(Grandma watches as Phil comes out of the bedroom to get the robe. Sally crosses and awkwardly hands him the robe. He goes back into the bedroom. Suddenly Franny and Dolly attack him— they were hiding behind the door. Screams, laughter, etc., from the overexcited young women. The night sounds/music and lights begin to fade. Grandma shouts: “Now get to bed. Phil, you’re winding them up.”)
SCENE 2
The middle of the night. The apartment is quiet, except for soft music coming from the radio in Phil and Sally’s bedroom. No lights are on. A little street noise. No music from the club on Bleecker Street, it is too late.
Franny comes out of the bedroom, now in Sally’s robe. She is trying to make her way to the sink, though is having trouble seeing; she kicks the leg of a chair as she passes along the table.
At the sink, she turns on the tap and drinks. She notices the music coming from the bedroom. She slowly heads to the window where she looks out, lost in thought. A fire truck passes in the distance, voices from the street. Franny watches.
SCENE 3
Late the next morning. Light streams in from the window. The noise from the street is alive and present—people, crowds walking by, sirens, horns, etc.
Grandma is cleaning up after breakfast, still in her nightgown, and Dolly, dressed but a bit disheveled—she hasn’t combed her hair yet, tucked in her blouse, etc.—stands at the window. Sally, in a robe, sits at the table.
DOLLY (Looking out): It’s so interesting.
GRANDMA (To Dolly): It’s not as much fun as it looks out there.
DOLLY: I didn’t say it was fun. I said it was really really really interesting.
SALLY: It’s that, Grandma. You can’t argue with that.
GRANDMA: Look at that. Look at what he’s wearing. Oh my God.
DOLLY: It’s summer—
GRANDMA (Going back to cleaning up, half to herself): On a public street.
(Pause. A church bell chimes in the distance.)
DOLLY: She’s still in there?
GRANDMA (Picks up the coffee pot): Should I throw it out—?
(Sally nods, then:)
SALLY: No, I’ll take it. I could go and knock . . .
(Door to the hallway opens. Franny enters, dressed, combed, lost in her thoughts.)
Here she is.
(The others just look at Franny.)
FRANNY: What??? What’s wrong? (Starts to fix her hair) Why are you looking at me?
SALLY: Nothing.
DOLLY: Phil had to shave in the kitchen sink.
FRANNY: What???? Why did he do that?
GRANDMA: He shaved in the—?
DOLLY: You were still in the bedroom, Grandma. (To Franny) He had to get to work. He works.
SALLY: Dolly—
FRANNY: What does that have to do with me?
DOLLY: You’ve been hogging the bathroom, Franny. How long was she in the—?
FRANNY: Why didn’t he knock—?
DOLLY: Everyone’s been waiting to use the bathroom—
FRANNY: Why didn’t anyone knock?
GRANDMA: There’s just the one bathroom—and it’s not just for us, but for the whole floor. Isn’t that right? It’s not like home, Franny.
FRANNY: But why—?
SALLY: It’s fine. Leave her alone. Philip didn’t mind. (To Grandma) It’ll give him something to talk about.
FRANNY: There’s nothing for him to talk about! Jesus. What did I do? I don’t understand.
DOLLY: She always hogs the bathroom. She doesn’t think about anyone else needing to use the—
FRANNY (To Dolly): Shut up.
GRANDMA: Girls—
DOLLY: I’ve been in there with her. She’ll stare at herself in the mirror for—
FRANNY: Leave me alone! (Looks at her sister) What are you talking about? Do you know what you’re talking about? Maybe if you took a bath a little more often, you wouldn’t have to slap so much deodorant on.
GRANDMA: Franny—
FRANNY: You think no one can smell it? It’s true. Smell her. Go ahead. (To Sally) You don’t have to sleep in the same room as—
GRANDMA (To Dolly): I didn’t smell—
FRANNY: You can’t smell anything, Grandma.
(Short pause. Dolly turns back and looks out the window.)
Bathroom’s free.
(She turns to go into the bedroom. Dolly laughs under her breath, Franny turns back.)
Why don’t you jump?
GRANDMA: Maybe I should get dressed.
FRANNY (To Dolly): Or maybe you need a push—
(She hurries to Dolly; Sally grabs Franny.)
SALLY: Stop it! Stop.
FRANNY (Same time): I wasn’t going to—
SALLY: How old are you two anyway?!
(Dolly suddenly musses up Franny’s hair and runs for cover.)
FRANNY: Damn you!
SALLY: Don’t swear—
FRANNY (Over this): What are you—? I just fixed . . . (Tries to fix her hair) I’ll kill you.
GRANDMA: Who wants to use the bathroom next?
DOLLY (Still all of her focus on Franny): Sorry to mess up your hair for your big—“appointment.”
FRANNY: You shut up, Dolly.
GRANDMA (Suddenly): What big appointment?
(Franny doesn’t know what to say.)
FRANNY (Under her breath to Dolly): You are in big trouble.
DOLLY: Me? Really?
GRANDMA: I thought you were just going to walk around the campus with your friend. Do you have an appointment at the college?
FRANNY: No, Grandma. I don’t know what my little sister is talking about. But that is usually the case, isn’t it? We must all be used to that by now. I should go. Betty’s probably waiting for me.
DOLLY: “Betty”???
FRANNY (To Sally): Betty’s a friend from home. She goes to NYU. She promised to show me around. (Trying hard) Of course Father says there’s a million good schools upstate or in New England, why in the world would a girl want to live in New York City when . . . When there’s all that there, I suppose. (Looks at Sally) Betty’s two years older. Very responsible. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Is my hair—?
DOLLY: Oh God don’t let her go back into the bathroom!!
FRANNY (Suddenly turns on Dolly): And—Dolly what are your “big” plans for today?
(This stops Dolly, she looks at her sister, then:)
DOLLY: We’re seeing the play. She (Sally) knows that.
SALLY: I’m so proud of you for sending off and getting tickets all by yourself.
FRANNY: She’s not five years old, Sally. Far from it. (Starts for the bedroom, then stops) Oh, you’re just “seeing the play.” I see. Careful, sister. Now you leave me alone. (Goes into their bedroom)
SALLY (Suddenly standing): We should all get dressed.
DOLLY (At the same time): Grandma, we should go—
GRANDMA: Mind if I use the . . . bathroom.
SALLY (To Dolly): You’ve got loads of time. A matinee’s not until two-thirty—
DOLLY: We’re going to Gimbel’s first.
GRANDMA: She wants to go to Gimbel’s.<
br />
DOLLY: Get ready, Grandma.
GRANDMA: There’s something there she’s been looking for. At Gimbel’s. She won’t tell me what it is. It’s a big secret.
(Smiles, even winks at Dolly, and picking up the pile of clothes she is going to wear, heads into the hallway to the bathroom. Pause. Dolly goes back to looking out the window. Sally looks at Dolly. Then, to say something:)
SALLY: So—you like shows, too.
(Dolly nods.)
I love them.
(Dolly smiles.)
How’s your father? Surviving okay?
DOLLY: Sure.
(Sally doesn’t know whether to say more, then:)
SALLY: I really like your father. A shame about what your mother did to him—
DOLLY (Interrupting, she doesn’t want to talk about it): He’s just fine. Really.
SALLY: My dad thinks the world of him. Of his “little brother.” Funny to think about it that way, isn’t it? His little . . . Dad says your father’s going through a lot, but who’d know? That’s what he says. (Beat) You should have seen the letter your father wrote me after our baby . . . After what happened—
(Dolly suddenly turns from the window.)
DOLLY: Oh my God, Sally, I’m so sorry, I haven’t said how sorry I am for what—
SALLY: I wasn’t asking for—
DOLLY (Same time): No, I know, but—
SALLY: I didn’t mean to— I know your feelings. You don’t have to . . . It’s probably better that you haven’t said anything. Let it all—heal.
(Dolly is still kicking herself for not saying anything.)
You don’t want to just keep—picking at it. Then it’ll never get better. So . . . don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting . . .
DOLLY: I am sorry—
SALLY: And you guys are just kids.
FRANNY (Entering, all dressed, carrying her purse): Who’s a kid? Don’t include me in—
DOLLY (As soon as she sees Franny): Sally was just talking about her baby.
(It hits Franny, too.)
FRANNY: Oh God. Sally, I’m so sorry—
DOLLY (Over this): She doesn’t want— She isn’t asking—
FRANNY: I wrote you, didn’t I? I was planning to write you and Phil a long letter— I didn’t know if I should say anything—
DOLLY (Overlapping): She wants us not to talk about it.
FRANNY: That’s what I would have thought—
DOLLY: So it’ll heal, she says.
FRANNY: That’s why I didn’t—
DOLLY: Right, Sal?
(Sally looks at them and nods.)
SALLY: Whatever you think is best. I don’t know.
(She smiles at her younger cousins, then:)
So—Grandma’s looking good, I think. Don’t you?
FRANNY: We see her all the time, so—I’m glad you think so.
DOLLY (Laughing): Father’s finally got her off her little tractor.
SALLY: She wasn’t still—?
FRANNY: Just for the lawn.
SALLY: Still.
DOLLY: Yeah.
SALLY: I’m sure that wasn’t easy.
FRANNY: What?
SALLY: Getting Grandma off the tractor.
FRANNY: No. It wasn’t.
(No one knows what to say.)
SALLY (Nods to the bedroom): I’m sorry if it’s a bit messy in there.
FRANNY: No, it’s—
DOLLY: No.
SALLY: The—cradle, we’ve been trying to—give away, but . . . (Looks at herself) I’m the only one not getting dressed. I better . . . (Moves toward her bedroom)
FRANNY: I should go. I’m meeting—Betty in—
SALLY (Suddenly): Not yet! Stay another minute. I want to show you both something! (Runs off into her bedroom. Off) It won’t take long.
DOLLY: What’s she . . .?
(Franny shrugs.)
FRANNY: I have to go.
DOLLY: Any message you want passed along?
(Franny ignores her.)
Just thought I had to ask. She’ll want to know.
FRANNY: If she shows up, Dolly. Have you thought about that? If Mother deigns to turn up.
(Sally returns with her guitar.)
SALLY (Tuning it): I’m supposed to play for this— There’s a class. He’s a fantastic singing teacher. I think he’ll take me. But I have to sing . . . (Tunes, then to Dolly) I told you one of my friends auditioned for—the show you’re seeing. My Fair Lady. And I’ve got a better voice than she does. (Strums; to a worried Franny) If you have to go.
FRANNY: No, I’m . . . I have time. How long do you—?
SALLY: You really want to hear it? Both of you? Really?
(“Sure,” “Yeah,” etc., from the girls.)
I didn’t know what to choose, then I thought a kind of jazzy— (Starts to strum chords and begins to play and sing a slightly jazzy version of Hernando’s Hideaway from The Pajama Game. Sings:)
I know a dark secluded place
A place where no one knows your face
A glass of wine a fast embrace
It’s called Hernando’s Hideaway
Olé!
(The girls listen politely, without criticism. Sally smiles, strums louder as she gets more and more into it, even making castanet sounds on the face of her guitar with her fingernails.)
All you see are silhouettes
And all you hear are castanets
And no one cares how late it gets
Not at Hernando’s Hideaway.
At the Golden Finger Bowl or any place you . . .
(She stops, feeling self-conscious. During the song, Grandma appears in the doorway, mostly dressed now. When Sally stops playing:)
GRANDMA: That’s so good, Sally.
FRANNY: Terrific, Sal. Really. I’m sure that teacher’s going to love it.
SALLY: You’re just saying—
FRANNY: No. I mean it. I do. Ask Dolly. I have to go.
DOLLY: It was great.
FRANNY: I’ll see you tonight. I’ll be back tonight. (Hurries out)
GRANDMA: Where is she meeting . . .?
DOLLY: Betty. I don’t know. But she knows.
(Sally continues to pluck the guitar.)
SALLY (To no one in particular): I love that song. It’s so much fun.
(Franny bursts back in.)
FRANNY: Sal, the phone’s ringing out there.
(We hear it in the hallway.)
What should I . . .?
SALLY (Handing Grandma the guitar): I’ll get it.
(She follows Franny out into the hallway, leaving the door open. Franny goes.)
DOLLY: We have to go soon, Grandma.
(Sally picks it up, the phone stops ringing.)
You should get dressed, come on.
GRANDMA: I’m almost ready. (Hands Dolly the guitar and heads for the bedroom. Stops) I only heard the end, but that sounded . . . good. Did it to you?
DOLLY: It did. Grandma.
GRANDMA: It’s nice to hear her sing.
(She goes into the bedroom. Outside a siren goes by. Sally hurries back in and runs to the window and shouts:)
SALLY: Franny!!! Franny!!!
GRANDMA (From the bedroom): Is anything—?
SALLY: It’s fine, Grandma. (To Dolly) She heard me. I know Franny heard me. She just didn’t want to hear me. It was your father.
DOLLY: Father? What’s wrong? Is something?
(Sally suddenly sees Dolly holding the guitar.)
SALLY: Don’t touch that! Put that down! I just tuned it!
(Dolly, stunned, puts the guitar down.)
(Suddenly guilty) I didn’t mean it that way. I didn’t mean you couldn’t touch it. I’ll teach you to play a few chords, if you want. It’s just that when someone doesn’t know how to . . .
DOLLY: Sure. I’m not going to touch it.
SALLY: I didn’t mean—!! (Stops herself. Trying to be calm. She turns back to Dolly) Do you know where she’s meeting this guy? You know about the guy? Of co
urse you do. Is he her boyfriend?
(No response.)
Grandma’s going to have a fit. She’s my responsibility. If you come and stay with me, I think it’s only fair . . .
DOLLY: How did Father find out about the guy?
(Sally looks at her.)
SALLY: Your stepmother found a letter in Franny’s bureau.
DOLLY: What was she doing in Franny’s bureau?!
SALLY (Overlapping): I don’t think that makes any difference now!
DOLLY: She shouldn’t be in our rooms!
SALLY: He read me part of this letter! How this guy has a friend with an off-campus apartment. How this friend is away this afternoon. How he’s got the key, everything but the size of the bed! Your father’s so upset. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s a kid.
DOLLY: I hate her. Not my sister.
SALLY: I don’t know what to tell . . . (Looks toward the bedroom) Your father’s ready to get on a train.
DOLLY: He won’t. He just says things like that. Maybe now they’ll stay out of our rooms.
SALLY: She’s only seventeen. When I was seventeen—
DOLLY: You going to tell Grandma?
SALLY: Won’t your father tell her when you get home?
DOLLY: I don’t think anyone tells Grandma too much anymore. (Short pause) My stepmother was looking for Franny’s diaphragm.
(Sally turns, confused, when she hears this.)
Last week she accused Franny of owning one. Franny denied it of course.
(Sally suddenly laughs.)
SALLY: Where would Franny get a dia—?
DOLLY: But she brought it with her. So that’s why she didn’t find it.
(Grandma comes out with a sweater.)
GRANDMA: Will I need a sweater? Is it going to be like yesterday?
SALLY: It’s going to be warm, Grandma.
(Grandma goes back into the bedroom to return the sweater.)
(To Dolly) So this—“guy.” It’s nothing special. Something she does all the time. Since she’s got the diaphragm . . .
(Dolly shrugs.)
I’m sick. Just don’t tell Phil. He’s a real prude when it comes to certain things. It’s the Midwest in him. And he still thinks of you girls—as kids.
(Grandma comes out, straightening herself.)
GRANDMA: You’ve got the tickets?
DOLLY: Yes, Grandma.
GRANDMA (Not listening, to Sally): Phil gave us four tokens before he left for work this morning.
SALLY: He told me he was going to do that. You sure don’t want to take a—? (“cab”)
Goodnight Children Everywhere and Other Plays Page 33