The Kentucky Cycle
Page 13
I’d like to dedicate this story to you, Jed and Lallie, for the warmth of your welcome and the graciousness of your hospitality. (He drinks, laughs.) Lord, that’s good!
Well, seems a long time ago, Jesus Christ came down to Kentucky disguised as a poor traveler and walking from door to door askin’ for hospitality. Well, sadly, things hadn’t improved much since he’d shared Roman hospitality up on that lonely hill in Jerusalem, ’cause everywhere he went, people would curse him and shut their doors in his face.
LALLIE: Oh, Lord.
JT: Finally, at the end of the day he came to this little old shotgun shack belongin’ to an old couple name of Baucis and Philomen. Well, they were tickled pink to have company, and they hustled the holy stranger inside and gave him the best seat by the fire. Then Philomen killed their only chicken and roasted him up real fine, while Baucis brought down the last of their ’shine and poured it out for the Lord. It was a simple meal, folks, spiced only with a little salt and that more complex and rarer seasoning, human kindness. Much like another simple meal on top of another hill, in Galilee.
LALLIE: Uh-huh.
JT: After the meal, our Lord revealed Himself in all His glory, and those two folks fell to their knees, their faces bathed in tears. He bade them get up and follow him outside. And then they saw the miracle. All the towns around them, full of inhospitable people, had been swallowed up by the earth.
LALLIE: Praise the Lord.
JT: The Lord said, “You alone, Baucis and Philomen, have shown kindness to the stranger, and as a reward, you may have one wish which I shall grant.” Well, those two old people looked at each other, and right away they knew what they wanted. Baucis said, “Lord, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, Philomen and I have been sweethearts as long as we can remember, and we ain’t never spent a night apart as long as we been married. If one of us were to die, it’d sure be hard on the other one. If you wouldn’t mind, when the time comes, we’d both like to be called together.”
And the Lord smiled and said He reckoned that’d be possible. Years went by, and then one day Baucis was workin’ in the garden, he started to feel dizzy. He turned to Philomen and she saw him and smiled, ’cause she knew their time had come. They reached out to each other for one last hug, and as they did, their hands turned into twigs and they were changed into two big old oak trees standin’ side by side for all eternity. And as the wind blows through their leaves, it says one thing over and over, throughout all eternity—and that is, “I love you.”
LALLIE (quiet): I like that story.
JED: Amen.
They smile at each other.
JT: You know, you folks been so kind to me ’n’ all, I’d sure like to be able to do somethin’ for you in return. I mean, when you see a family like this one, so close, so full of love for each other ’n’ all, it just makes you think: What if . . . ?
Beat.
JED: What if?
JT: What if, God forbid, somethin’ should happen to one of you? I mean, we can’t all be as lucky as Baucis and Philomen and count on the Lord callin’ us at the same time, can we? And in the unpleasant event of your absence, you’d sure want your wife and child looked after proper now, wouldn’t you?
JED: Well, sure.
JT: ’Course you would. But how’s a man to do that? You sure wouldn’t want to rely on the Jacksons or the rest of your neighbors now, would you?
JED: No, sir.
JT: It’s a problem for sure. But one for which, I’m happy to say, there is a solution.
JED: What’s that?
JT: I have been empowered by certain parties to purchase the mineral rights from far-sighted Christian gentlemen like yourself.
Beat.
JED: My mineral rights?
JT: Yes sir.
JED: Oh. Well . . . uh . . . what exactly are we talkin’ about here, JT?
JT: Well, “mineral rights” is just a twenty-five-cent word for rocks, actually.
JED: Rocks? You mean somebody wants to buy the rocks offa my land?
JT: That’s it exactly. The people I represent will pay you fifty cents an acre for the right to haul off all mineral and metallic substances and combinations of the same. In your case, countin’ your three-hundred-odd acres—
JED: Three hunnert and fifty-seven acres.
JT (smiling): That’d be about a hundred and seventy-nine dollars in cold, hard American cash.
Stunned silence.
JED: Let me get this straight, JT—I been breakin’ my back diggin’ rocks outta my damn fields so I could plow for nigh onto forty years, and now there are people willin’ to pay me money for the same privilege?
JT: What can I tell you, Jed, ’cept there’s a fool born every day. Here, you read it for yourself, it’s all down there in black and white.
He pulls out a contract from his jacket and hands it to Jed, who inspects it awkwardly, too embarrassed to admit he can’t read.
JT (gently): Light’s kinda bad in here—maybe you’d like me to go over it for you.
JED: Can’t do nothin’ with these old eyes of mine.
JT: Essentially, this says that for the sum in question, you, the owner, pass over the title to the minerals underlying your land with all the usual and ordinary mining rights. It says all that a lot longer, but that’s what it boils down to.
JED: And that’s all there is to it?
JT: That’s all.
JED: Well, that sounds easy, don’t it! Where am I supposed to sign?
JT: Right here.
Jed picks up the pen.
LALLIE: Jed, I don’t feel right about this.
JED: What don’t you feel right about, Lallie?
LALLIE: This land been in your family back before anybody can remember, and I don’t think you oughta be sellin’ it.
JED: You heard him, Lallie—I ain’t sellin’ the land, I’m just sellin’ the mineral rights.
LALLIE: I don’t think you oughta be sellin’ any part of it, even them rocks.
JED: Lallie, I know what I’m doin’ here.
JT (smiling): I understand your feelings, ma’am, ’bout the land, and as a mountain boy I share’em, but I don’t think any of your family’d begrudge you makin’ a livin’ off your land. What’s important is the land, that it stays in your family.
LALLIE: That’s right, but . . .
JT: Now think about it. Everybody knows with corn, couple of bad seasons back to back and you might have to sell a piece of your land—all of it maybe—just to get by. But with all that money, folks, that one hundred and seventy-nine dollars, you’re covered. You got somethin’ to fall back on.
JED: Man’s gotta point, Lallie.
JT: And why not make your life a little easier right now, Lallie? You know—get a new stove, maybe. A new dress for your daughter. A new—
LALLIE: We don’t need things. We got everything we need.
JED: Lallie . . .
JT: I tell you what. I don’t usually do this, but you folks been so nice to me ’n’ all, maybe I could see my way to, say . . . sixty cents an acre.
Beat.
JED (smiling): Seventy-five cents.
LALLIE: Jed!
MARY ANNE: Daddy!
JED: Hush up, now! JT and I are talkin’ business now, and he knows as well as I do, you can’t let your personal feelin’s get in the way of business—can you, JT?
JT (smiling evenly): No sir, that’s a fact. (Beat.) Seventy-five, huh? Well . . . I reckon I might could see my way to seventy-five.
JED: Good enough for me.
LALLIE: It ain’t right, Jed—ain’t enough money in the world gonna—
JT: Jed, if your wife doesn’t want you to do this, maybe we oughta just forget the whole thing . . .
JED: I make the decisions for this family, JT, and I say that’s fine! (Beat.) Now
, where do I sign?
JT: Right here.
Jed picks up the pen and looks the document over again.
JED: Just outta curiosity, JT, what exactly are those “usual and ordinary mining rights” you were talking about?
JT (picking his way carefully): That means they can excavate for the minerals . . . uh, build a road here and there, if necessary—long as they don’t disturb you, of course. Use some of the local water . . .
JED: Hold it right there! You never said anything before about cuttin’ across my land or taking my water!
LALLIE: Uh-huh.
JT: That was understood, Jed. I figured a man of your experience knew how these things worked.
JED: Nope! No way! Ain’t no way anybody’s gonna build a road over my land!
JT: Look, Jed, I promise you, I swear to God, you’ll hardly know they’re there! They gonna be real careful with your land.
JED: You want my mineral rights, that’s one thing. But I just can’t see my way to all that other stuff. Roads and water—no sir! (Beat.) ’Less you’re willin’ to go a whole ’nother quarter an acre.
JT: What?!
JED: A dollar an acre and she’s yours!
JT: Hell, Jed, you can practically buy land in these parts for that!
JED: Then you do it! Course I thought you wanted the mineral rights to a particular piece of land. Mine.
JT: You tryin’ to cut my throat, Jed?!
JED (innocently): Why no, JT—but you did start out by sayin’ how you wanted to do me and mine a favor.
Beat. Both men are breathing a little hard. JT finally manages a smile.
JT: Jed Rowen, I hope you won’t take this the wrong way if I tell you I ain’t never met anybody like you. You, sir, are one tough son of a bitch.
JED (smiling): I’d consider that a compliment. We doin’ business?
JT: Yeah, we’re doin’ business.
JED: Dollar an acre?
JT: Dollar an acre.
JED: Where do I sign? (He picks up the pen and then puts it down again.)
JT: I ain’t goin’ any higher, Jed!
JED (embarrassed): Ain’t the money, JT. I don’t know how to sign my name.
JT (relieved): All you do is touch the pen and make your mark An X or whatever.
Jed signs.
And here’s a bank draft for—
JED: Three hundred and fifty-seven dollars!
JT: Now, you just take this draft to the bank—any bank, anywhere. That little paper’s as good as gold.
Jed examines the paper with great respect. JT leans over the table.
I’m gonna ask you a favor, Jed, man to man. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention this price to your neighbors—least not till after I been around and had a crack at ’em. Make my job a little easier, you know?
JED: I understand, JT. When it come to business, everybody got his own lookout.
JT: Ain’t that the truth. (Beat.) Well, I sure want to thank you folks for your hospitality, but I better be goin’.
MARY ANNE: Can’t you stay the night, JT?
JED: Sure wouldn’t be any trouble.
JT: No, I better be movin’.
JED: Suit yourself.
JT: Could use some direction gettin’ back to the road, though.
MARY ANNE: I’ll take him, Pa.
JED: All right, she’ll see you down there. I’d do it myself, but I’d probably get us both lost!
They laugh.
JT: Thanks again for everything, Lallie. I’ll dream of your redeye gravy.
LALLIE: You’re welcome.
JT: Jed? Take care of yourself, sir.
JED: Don’t you worry ’bout me.
JT: No sir, I guess I won’t.
JT and Jed laugh.
JED: Mary Anne. It ain’t all that far down there. Don’t you be too long gettin’ back.
MARY ANNE: I won’t, Daddy.
Mary Anne and JT walk out of the house and into the woods. Night sounds and shadows surround them.
SCENE THREE
MARY ANNE: Where you goin’ next?
JT: Oh, just down the road a piece.
MARY ANNE: You think you ever come back through here?
JT: Not likely.
MARY ANNE: Lucky you.
JT: Seems like a real pretty place to me, Mary Anne.
MARY ANNE: It’s borin’. It’s always the same. I’d love to do what you do—travel around, meet folks, see new places.
JT: Maybe my life isn’t quite as glamorous as you might think.
MARY ANNE: No?
JT: No.
MARY ANNE: I don’t know. (She stops.) Wanta trade?
JT (laughs): No. (Beat.) Come on, Mary Anne, let’s get goin’.
MARY ANNE: Couldn’t we just stop for a minute? Keep walkin’ like this we get to that old road in no time.
JT: Well . . . maybe just a minute.
They sit.
MARY ANNE: Sure is a mighty fine moon tonight
JT: Pretty.
MARY ANNE: Sometimes I get so restless on a night like this, I get up, sneak outta the house, and walk through the woods all by myself. Feels like I’m swimmin’ through the moonlight, like a big old lake.
JT: Long time ago, all this was under water, you know.
MARY ANNE: When was that?
JT: Thousands and thousands of years ago.
MARY ANNE: What happened?
JT: Somebody pulled the plug.
MARY ANNE (laughs): No, really!
JT: Nobody knows. Things change, that’s all. One time there was an ocean, now there isn’t. One time there weren’t any mountains here, now there are. (Beat.) ’Course, these aren’t really mountains, you know?
MARY ANNE: No?
JT: This is the Cumberland Plateau. Big, flat-topped rise of land. It’s the water, year after year, thousands of years, cutting canyons and gulleys, just makes it seem like mountains.
MARY ANNE: Gosh.
JT: Ain’t nothin’ what it really seems . . . not even mountains. (Beat.) Let’s get goin’.
Mary Anne doesn’t move.
I can’t take you with me, Mary Anne.
MARY ANNE: Why not?
JT: ’Cause . . . Because this is where you belong, swimming in this damn Kentucky moonlight, on these mountains that ain’t mountains. Now let’s go.
MARY ANNE: I ain’t showin’ you where the road is ’less you kiss me first.
JT: What?! You really are your father’s daughter!
MARY ANNE: One kiss—what’d it hurt?
JT: Nothing. Except I couldn’t promise you there’d be only the one.
MARY ANNE: That’d be all right too.
He kneels in front of her.
JT: You sure this is what you want?
MARY ANNE: Just kiss me, JT.
He does.
JT: It won’t change my mind.
MARY ANNE: I know.
She kisses him again and then slides down to the ground, pulling him with her. Tommy enters with a drawn knife. JT sees him and half gets up.
TOMMY: I said I wouldn’t forget you.
Tommy throws himself at JT, who flips him over. Tommy slashes at JT, cutting him on the shoulder. JT grabs him and they both go down. Tommy comes up on top. He kneels over JT and tries to push the knife into his face. JT holds him off but is clearly weakening.
JT: Help me! Help me!
Mary Anne, who has watched the whole thing in mute horror, now comes to life. She kicks Tommy hard in the side. He rolls over and loses the knife. JT begins to kick and pummel the boy savagely. He winds up over Tommy and smashes the boy’s head into the ground.
MARY ANNE: Stop it! Stop it! You’re gonna kill him! Stop it!
She pu
shes JT off Tommy, who is now bloody and unconscious. JT holds his cut arm.
JT: The son of a bitch cut me!
MARY ANNE: You coulda kilt him!
JT: He came at me with a goddamn knife! Oh, the little son of a bitch cut me!
MARY ANNE: Lemme see.
JT: Son of a bitch!
MARY ANNE: It ain’t bad.
JT pulls away from her angrily.
JT: Son of a bitch! (Beat.) You saved my life.
MARY ANNE: I guess.
JT: How come?!
MARY ANNE: I need a reason?
JT: How come?!
MARY ANNE (simply): I love you.
Beat.
JT: This doesn’t change anything. I can’t take you with me.
MARY ANNE: I know.
JT: Will you stop being so goddamn understanding about everything! Goddamn hillbillies! I could cut your hearts out with a rusty razor, but as long as I smiled and told another story, you’d just sit there happy as pigs in shit! Oh Lord, I can’t do this no more. I can’t do this.
He is sobbing now, his head in her lap.
MARY ANNE: Can’t do what?
JT: Everything I ever told you, it’s all lies! All of it! (Laughs.) Your poor old pa, thinking he’s slick as goose shit—a dollar an acre! What a joke! Oh, he really got me, he did, burned my ass, your old man! There he is, sitting on top of maybe fifteen, twenty thousands tons of coal an acre!
MARY ANNE: What’s coal?
JT: Oh, nothin’, little hillbilly, just “rocks,” that’s all. Millions of dollars worth of “rocks,” which your daddy just sold me for a lousy buck! Millions! Oh, he’s slick, he is, the poor dumb son of a bitch!
MARY ANNE: You’re lyin’!
JT: That ain’t even the worst of it! You ain’t seen what they do. “I swear, Jed, I promise they be real careful with your land.” Oh, yes sir, they’re careful—careful not to miss a trick. First they come in here and cut down all your trees—
MARY ANNE: No!
JT: Listen to me, god damn it! First, they cut down all your trees. Then they cut into the land, deep—start huntin’ those deep veins, diggin’em out in their deep mines, dumpin’ the crap they can’t use in your streams, your wells, your fields, whatever! And when they’re finished, after they’ve squeezed out every nickel, they just move on. Leaving your land colder and deader’n that moon up there.
MARY ANNE: It ain’t so!