by David French
At that moment JACOB walks quietly back onto the road, still carrying his suitcase, his fedora cocked at a jaunty angle. There is no grin on his face, however, as he stands staring at MARY for a long moment, waiting for her to notice him . . . Finally, she does. She rises, but remains standing on the porch, looking at him.
JACOB You had me worried there. I t’ought for a minute you wasn’t going to call. (Now he grins.)
MARY Oh, you . . . !
She raises her elbow and clenches her fist in a parody of a threatening gesture. A gesture that is not coy but more the gesture of exasperation a woman might feel who is taken for granted.
JACOB Now she makes a fist. Took you long enough, maid . . .
MARY turns away.
. . . And such a little fist, too. Wouldn’t bruise a hummingbird, let alone the King of the Cowboys . . .
MARY (still turned away) So sure of yourself, aren’t you, Tom? A real lady-killer, that’s you.
JACOB Tom has a modest nature, Mary. He don’t like to boast. Not like some I could name. (He walks a few feet closer. Sets the suitcase down in the yard and stands beside it.) On a night like this he’d sooner howl at the moon. One last shout of joy for old Bob Foote. (He lifts his face to the sky and cups his hands around his mouth.)
MARY Don’t you dare! You’ve already woke up half of Conception Bay as it is . . .
JACOB drops his hands to his sides, but remains gazing at the sky. Pause.
JACOB God, you can’t beat the mystery of it, can you? It’s some wonderful sight. With or without a spyglass.
MARY Yes. (She sits and looks up at the heavens.) There are stars up there that Father was watching the night before Beaumont Hamel. The light those stars gave off that night is just reaching us now.
JACOB Imagine.
MARY There are other stars whose light won’t reach here till long after we’re gone. Hundreds of years or more. T’ousands.
JACOB Jesus, don’t get morbid on me. Old Bob wouldn’t want that, would he? (He glances at MARY. She returns his glance.)
Slight pause.
MARY Was there really a Rose?
JACOB Yes.
MARY There was not.
JACOB All right, there wasn’t.
Slight pause.
MARY There was, wasn’t there?
JACOB No. (beat) Besides, the past is best forgotten, someone once said. Leave it buried . . .
MARY looks away in mild exasperation.
. . . It’s the future that counts, Mary. And the future is here. It’s here in this yard right now. It’s you and me and that battered old suitcase.
MARY Yes, held together with a piece of rope. Some future.
JACOB kneels down in the yard and unties the rope on the suitcase. He looks over at MARY.
JACOB Don’t be fooled by appearances, Mary. I’ve got more than songs up my sleeve. I’ve got your future and mine, all neatly folded on top of my plaid shirts and diamond socks. (He lifts the top of the suitcase and removes the silk stockings, draping them over his arm.) All you have to do, Mary, is reach out, and old Bob can rest tonight with a grin on his face. (then) Well?
MARY (beat) What about my sister? Are you forgetting her?
JACOB I’m not forgetting.
MARY rises from the step. She crosses slowly into the road, but remains well away from JACOB. She stands looking out front as though her eyes are on a distant star. Finally, she speaks.
MARY (evenly, with great seriousness) In the years to come, Jacob Mercer — and this is no idle t’reat, mind — in the years to come, if you ever mentions Rose of Sharon, even in your sleep, I’ll make you regret the night you knelt in this yard with those stockings in your hand and the moon for a witness. Do you understand me? (She turns and stares at JACOB.) Do you?
JACOB smiles up at the serious face of this lovely young girl. His smile becomes a grin, until it is splitting his face from ear to ear.
Blackout.
END
DAVID FRENCH is one of Canada’s best-known and critically acclaimed playwrights. Among his most beloved and award-winning works are the semi-autobiographical Mercer plays: Leaving Home, Of the Fields, Lately, Salt-Water Moon, 1949, and Soldier’s Heart. Leaving Home was named one of Canada’s 100 Most Influential Books by the Literary Review of Canada and one of the 1,000 Most Essential Plays in the English Language by the Oxford Dictionary of Theatre. The Mercer plays have touched audiences across North America, and in Europe, South America, and Australia. French was one of the first inductees into the Newfoundland Arts Hall of Honour, and he is an Officer of the Order of Canada. Born in Coley’s Point, Newfoundland, he lives in Toronto and Cable Head, PEI.