by Tracy Letts
STEVE: I’m sorry, I have to take this.
(Steve hustles out to talk on the phone.)
CHARLIE: We ask that you watch over Beverly, too, as he, as he . . . as he, as he, as he makes his journey.
We thank thee, O Lord, that we are able to join together to pay tribute to this fine man, in his house, with his beautiful family, his three beautiful daughters. We are truly blessed in our, our fellowship, our togetherness, our . . . our fellowship.
Thank thee for the food, O Lord, that we can share this food and replenish our bodies with . . . with nourishment. We ask that you help us . . . get better. Be better. Be better people.
(Steve reenters, snapping his phone shut.)
We recognize, now more than ever, the power, the, the . . . joy of family. And we ask that you bless and watch over this family. Amen.
MATTIE FAE: Amen.
STEVE: Amen. Sorry, folks.
BILL: Let’s eat.
(They begin to eat.)
VIOLET: Barbara, you have any use for that sideboard.
BARBARA: Hm?
VIOLET: That sideboard there, you have any interest in that?
BARBARA: This? Well . . . no. I mean, why?
VIOLET: I’m getting rid of a lot of this stuff and I thought you might want that sideboard.
BARBARA: No, Mom, I . . . I wouldn’t have any way to get that to Boulder. KAREN: Really pretty.
VIOLET: Mm. Maybe Ivy’ll take it.
IVY: No, I have something like that, remember, from the—
BARBARA: What are you getting rid of?
VIOLET: All of it, I’m clearing all this stuff out of here. I want to have a brand-new everything.
BARBARA: I. I guess I’m just sort of . . . not prepared to talk about your stuff.
VIOLET: Suit yourself.
STEVE: This food is just spectacular.
KAREN: It’s so good— LITTLE CHARLES: Yes, it is—
IVY: You like your food, Mom?
VIOLET: I haven’t tried much of it, yet—
BARBARA: Johnna cooked this whole meal by herself.
VIOLET: Hm? What?
BARBARA: I say Johnna cooked this whole meal by—
VIOLET: ’Swhat she’s paid for.
(A silent moment.)
You all did know she’s getting paid, right?
CHARLIE: Jean, so I’m curious, when you say you don’t eat meat . . .
JEAN: Yeah?
CHARLIE: You mean you don’t eat meat of any kind?
JEAN: Right. BARBARA: No, she, hm-mm . . .
CHARLIE: And is that for health reasons, or . . . ?
JEAN: When you eat meat, you ingest an animal’s fear.
VIOLET: Ingest what? Its fur?
JEAN: Fear.
VIOLET (Snickers): I thought she said—
CHARLIE: Its fear. How do you do that? You can’t eat fear.
JEAN: Sure you can. I mean even if you don’t sort of think of it spiritually, what happens to you, when you feel afraid? Doesn’t your body produce all sorts of chemical reactions?
CHARLIE: Does it?
LITTLE CHARLES: It does.
IVY: Yes.
LITTLE CHARLES: Adrenaline, and, and—
JEAN: Your body goes through this whole chemical process when it experiences fear—
LITTLE CHARLES:—yep, and cortisol—
JEAN:—particularly like strong mortal fear, you know when you sweat and your heart races—
LITTLE CHARLES:—oh yeah—
CHARLIE: Okay, sure.
JEAN: Do you think an animal experiences fear?
STEVE: You bet it does.
JEAN: So when you eat an animal, you’re eating all that fear it felt when it was slaughtered to make food.
CHARLIE: Wow.
STEVE: Right, right, I used to work in a processing factory and there’s a lot of fear flying around that place—
CHARLIE: God, you mean I’ve been eating fear, what, three times a day for sixty years?
MATTIE FAE: This one won’t have a meal unless there’s meat in it.
CHARLIE: I guess it was the way I was raised, but it just doesn’t seem like a legitimate meal unless it has some meat somewhere—
MATTIE FAE: If I make a pasta dish of some kind, he’ll just be like, “Okay, that was good for an appetizer, now where’s the meat?”
VIOLET: “Where’s the meat?” Isn’t that some TV commercial, the old lady say, “Where’s the meat?”
KAREN: “Beef.” “Where’s the beef?”
VIOLET (Screeching): “Where’s the meat?!” “Where’s the meat?!” “Where’s the meat?!”
(Everyone freezes, a little stunned.)
CHARLIE: I sure thought the services were lovely.
KAREN: Yes, weren’t they?—
STEVE: Preacher did a fine job.
VIOLET (Sticking her hand out, flat, waggling it back and forth): Ehhhhh! I give it a . . . (Repeats gesture) Ehhhhh!
KAREN: Really? I thought it was—
BARBARA: Great, now we get some dramatic criticism—
VIOLET: I would’ve preferred an open casket.
BARBARA: That just wasn’t possible, Mom.
VIOLET: That today’s the send-off Bev should’ve got if he died around 1974. Lots of talk about poetry, teaching. Well, he hadn’t written any poetry to speak of since ’65 and he never liked teaching worth a damn. Nobody talked about the good stuff. Man was a world-class alcoholic, more’n fifty years. Nobody told the story about that night he got wrangled into giving a talk at a TU alumni dinner . . . (Laughs) Drank a whole bottle of rum, Ron Bocoy White Rum—I don’t know why I remember that—and got up to give this talk . . . and he fouled himself! Comes back to our table with this huge—
BARBARA: Yeah, I can’t imagine why no one told that story.
VIOLET: He didn’t get invited back to any more alumni dinners, I’ll tell you that!
(She cracks up.)
STEVE: You know, I don’t know much about poetry, but I thought his poems were extraordinary. (To Bill) And your reading was very fine.
BILL: Thank you.
VIOLET (To Steve): Who are you?
KAREN: Mom, this is my fiancé, Steve, I introduced you at the church.
STEVE: Steve Heidebrecht.
VIOLET: Hide-the-what?
STEVE: Heidebrecht.
VIOLET: Hide-a-burrr . . . German, you’re a German.
STEVE: Well, German-Irish, really, I—
VIOLET: That’s peculiar, Karen, to bring a date to your father’s funeral. I know the poetry was good, but I wouldn’t have really considered it date material—
BARBARA: Jesus.
KAREN: He’s not a date, he’s my fiancé. We’re getting married on New Year’s.
CHARLIE: Man, these potatoes are—
KAREN: In Miami, I hope you can make it.
VIOLET: I don’t really see that happening, do you?
KAREN: I—
VIOLET: Steve. That right? Steve?
STEVE: Yes, ma’am.
VIOLET: You ever been married before?
KAREN: That’s personal.
STEVE: I don’t mind. Yes, ma’am, I have.
VIOLET: More’n once?
STEVE: Three times, actually, three times before this—
VIOLET: You should pretty much have it down by now, then.
STEVE (Laughs): Right, right—
VIOLET (To Mattie Fae): I had that one pegged, didn’t I? I mean, look at him, you can tell he’s been married—
KAREN: I took Steve out to show him the old fort and it’s gone! IVY: That’s been gone for years.
KAREN: That made me so sad!
BILL: What is this now?
KAREN: Our old fort, where we used to play Cowboys and Indians.
IVY: Daddy said rats were getting in there—
VIOLET: Karen! Shame on you!
KAREN: Hm?
VIOLET: Don’t you know not to say “Cowboys and Indians”? You played Cowboys and Native Americans. Right, Barb?
/> BARBARA: What’d you take?
VIOLET: Hm?
BARBARA: What did you take? What pills did you take?
VIOLET: Lemme alone—
(Charlie drops his head, appears distressed.)
CHARLIE: Uh-oh . . .
MATTIE FAE: What is it?
CHARLIE: UH-OH!
MATTIE FAE: What’s the matter?
(Rising panic . . . )
LITTLE CHARLES: Dad—?
IVY: You okay, Uncle—?
CHARLIE: I just got a big bite of fear!
(Everyone laughs.)
I’m shakin’ in my boots!
(Laughter, ad-libs, etc. Charlie digs into his plate ravenously.)
Fear never tasted so good.
(He winks at Jean.)
STEVE (Laughing): Right, right, it’s pretty good once you get used to the taste.
BARBARA (Teasing): I catch her eating a cheeseburger every now and again.
JEAN: I do not!
BARBARA: Double cheeseburger with bacon, extra fear.
JEAN: Mom, you are such a liar!
(More laughter.)
VIOLET (Staring intensely at Jean): Y’know . . . if I ever called my mom a liar? She would’ve knocked my goddamn head off my shoulders.
(Silence.)
Bill, I see you’ve gone through much of Beverly’s office.
BILL: Not all of it, but—
VIOLET: Find any hidden treasure?
BILL: Not exactly, but it appears he was working on some new poetry.
KAREN: Really?
BILL: I found a couple of notebooks that had—
VIOLET: You girls know there’s a will.
BARBARA: Mom . . .
VIOLET: We took care of that some time back, but—
BARBARA: Mom, really, we don’t want to talk about this now—
VIOLET: I want to talk about it. What about what I want to talk about, that count for anything?
BARBARA: It’s just—
VIOLET: Bev made some good investments if you can believe it, and we had things covered for you girls, but he and I talked it over after some years passed and decided to change things, leave everything to me. We never got around to taking care of it legally, but you should know he meant to leave everything to me. Leave the money to me.
BARBARA: Okay.
VIOLET: Okay? (Checks in with Ivy, Karen) Okay?
IVY: Okay.
VIOLET: Karen? Okay?
(Uncertain, Karen looks to Steve, then Barbara.)
BARBARA: Okay.
KAREN: Okay.
VIOLET: Okay. But now some of this furniture, some of this old shit you can just have. I don’t want it, got no use for it. Maybe I should have an auction.
MATTIE FAE: Sure, an auction’s a fine idea—
VIOLET: Some things, though, like the silver, that’s worth a pretty penny. But if you like I’ll sell it to you, cheaper’n I might get in an auction.
BARBARA: Or you might never get around to the auction and then we can just have it for free after you die.
IVY: Barbara . . .
(Pause. Violet coolly studies Barbara.)
VIOLET: You might at that.
LITTLE CHARLES: Excuse me, Bill? I’m wondering, this writing you found, these poems—?
VIOLET: Where are you living now, Bill? You want this old sideboard?
BILL: I beg your pardon.
VIOLET: You and Barbara are separated, right? Or you divorced already?
(Another silence.)
BILL: We’re separated.
VIOLET (To Barbara): Thought you could slip that one by me, didn’t you?
BARBARA: What is the matter with you?
VIOLET: Nobody slips anything by me. I know what’s what. Your father thought he’s slipping one by me, right? No way. I’m sorry you two’re having trouble . . . maybe you can work it out. Bev’n I separated a couple of times, ’course, though we didn’t call it that—
BARBARA: Please, help us to benefit from an illustration of your storybook marriage—
VIOLET: Truth is, sweetheart, you can’t compete with a younger woman, there’s no way to compete. One of those unfair things in life. Is there a younger woman involved?
BARBARA: You’ve already said enough on this subject, I think—
BILL: Yes. There’s a younger woman.
VIOLET: Ah . . . y’see? Odds’re against you there, babe.
IVY: Mom believes women don’t grow more attractive with age.
KAREN: Oh, I disagree, I—
VIOLET: I didn’t say they “don’t grow more attractive,” I said they get ugly. And it’s not really a matter of opinion, Karen dear. You’ve only just started to prove it yourself.
CHARLIE: You’re in rare form today, Vi.
VIOLET: The day calls for it, doesn’t it? What form would you have me in?
CHARLIE: I just don’t understand why you’re so adversarial.
VIOLET: I’m just truth-telling. (Cutting her eyes to Barbara) Some people get antagonized by the truth.
CHARLIE: Everyone here loves you, dear.
VIOLET: You think you can shame me, Charlie? Blow it out your ass.
BARBARA: Three days ago . . . I had to identify my father’s corpse. And now I sit here and listen to you viciously attack each and every member of this family—
(Violet rises, her voice booming.)
VIOLET: “Attack my family”?! You ever been attacked in your sweet spoiled life?! Tell her ’bout attacks, Mattie Fae, tell her what an attack looks like!
MATTIE FAE: Vi, please—
IVY: Settle down, Mom—
VIOLET: Stop telling me to settle down, goddamn it! I’m not a goddamn invalid! I don’t need to be abided, do I?! Am I already passed over?!
MATTIE FAE: Honey—
VIOLET (Points to Mattie Fae): This woman came to my rescue when one of my dear mother’s many gentlemen friends was attacking me, with a claw hammer! This woman has dents in her skull from hammer blows! You think you been attacked?! What do you know about life on these Plains? What do you know about hard times?
BARBARA: I know you had a rotten childhood, Mom. Who didn’t?
VIOLET: You DON’T know! You do NOT know! None of you know, ’cept this woman right here and that man we buried today! Sweet girl, sweet Barbara, my heart breaks for every time you ever felt pain. I wish I coulda shielded you from it. But if you think for a solitary second you can fathom the pain that man endured in his natural life, you got another thing coming. Do you know where your father lived from age four till about ten? Do you?
(No one responds.)
Do you?!
BARBARA: No.
IVY: No.
VIOLET: In a Pontiac sedan. With his mother, his father, in a fucking car! Now what else do you want to say about your rotten childhood? That’s the crux of the biscuit: we lived too hard, then rose too high. We sacrificed everything and we did it all for you. Your father and I were the first in our families to finish high school and he wound up an award-winning poet. You girls, given a college education, taken for granted no doubt, and where’d you wind up? (Jabs a finger at Karen) Whadda you do? (Jabs a finger at Ivy) Whadda you do? (Jabs a finger at Barbara) Who’re you? Jesus, you worked as hard as us, you’d all be president. You never had real problems so you got to make all your problems yourselves. BARBARA: Why are you screaming at us?