The Normal Heart and The Destiny of Me: Two Plays

by Kramer, Larry

  RICHARD: Where’s my Gelusil? My ulcer’s acting up.

  NED: Take Alka-Seltzer. It’s the only thing that works for me. (Gives RICHARD one.)

  ALEXANDER: Here it comes, Alexander’s ulcer.

  NED: Did they have Alka-Seltzer then?

  RICHARD: (Preparing it in one of NED’s hospital cups.) I get these pains in my gut and the doctor says there’s no cure and I said, of course not, how can you be cured of your own son.

  NED: Of course they had Alka-Seltzer then. Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses—all the Jews took Alka-Seltzer.

  RICHARD: You haven’t shut up since the day you were born.

  NED: The Jews invented Alka-Seltzer.

  ALEXANDER: And I won’t shut up until the day I die!

  NED: Jesus took Alka-Seltzer.

  RENA: Both of you stop it! Where did this fight come from?

  ALEXANDER: (To RICHARD.) Why don’t fights with Benjamin cause your ulcer? Why is it always Alexander’s ulcer?

  RENA: You fought with Benjamin?

  ALEXANDER: When he won his appointment it didn’t look like the war would ever be over.

  RICHARD: I won’t let him throw away a West Point education!

  ALEXANDER: But now there’s no point to West Point.

  RICHARD: A war isn’t over just because you say it’s over.

  NED: World War II ended in ‘45 and McCarthy was the early fifties. I’m not remembering this properly.

  ALEXANDER: Yes, you are, you are! You’re remembering it just fine.

  NED: (Starting to take some of the pills HANNIMAN left.) I don’t remember what I’m remembering.

  ALEXANDER: Isn’t that the point? I’ll tell you when you’re wrong.

  NED: I’m sure you will. (Noticing the container.) He knows I won’t take this poison! (Pumps the nurse’s bell.)

  RENA: Richard, you’re going to have to work the Bloodmobile on Saturday.

  RICHARD: I’ll be goddamned if I’ll work the Bloodmobile on Saturday or any other day.

  RENA: Then you can drive the paraplegics to the ball game. Take your pick. And watch your language.

  RICHARD: The Bloodmobile on Saturday, Sunday you teach at Temple, and I never get a hot meal.

  RENA: Now I’m not supposed to teach at Temple? How else could we pay for Alexander to learn about the history of our people?

  ALEXANDER: Don’t blame that one on me.

  RENA: It’s bad enough living in a place where we’re the only Jews. It was bad enough his not being bar mitzvahed. My mother would die if she knew.

  ALEXANDER: How will she know? You made me write her how sad we all were she couldn’t come all the way from L.A. to see me become a man and thank you for your generous check.

  NED: (To RENA.) Do you know I think that was my first conscious lie?

  RENA: (To NED.) I was only trying not to break my mother’s heart.

  (Goes into her bedroom.)

  ALEXANDER: Mordecai Rushmore was my first lie.

  NED: He was kind of humpy.

  ALEXANDER: I don’t have to tell you there are a lot of comic books hidden behind Dr. Krafft-Ebing.

  NED: So you like it?

  ALEXANDER: It feels good. Except when it’s over. When it feels bad.

  RICHARD: (Taking the money RENA has left by the phone.) I got a raise.

  ALEXANDER: How could I be bar mitzvahed when I don’t believe in God?

  RICHARD: Why do you say things like that?

  ALEXANDER: What’s wrong with saying what you believe?

  RICHARD: You’re just an obnoxious show-off!

  ALEXANDER: And you’re my father!

  (RICHARD raises his hand to hit him. ALEXANDER moves adeptly out of the way.)

  Do you believe in God?

  RICHARD: Of course I believe in God!

  ALEXANDER: I don’t know why. He hasn’t been very good to you.

  NED: (Impressed.) Did we learn how to fight from them?

  RICHARD: Then go live in Hyattsville with those goddamned six dozen burned-out families on their goddamned training flights.

  ALEXANDER: I didn’t learn one thing from them! Not one goddamned thing!

  NED: Then where did we come from?

  ALEXANDER: We made it on our own! With lots of help from me!

  HANNIMAN:(Rushing in.) What’s wrong?

  NED: (To ALEXANDER.) So we sprang full-grown from the head of Zeus?

  HANNIMAN: Are you having some sort of drug reaction?

  ALEXANDER: Yes!

  NED: Yes! (To HANNIMAN.) I started an organization of activists. Slowly we have lessened from ten to two the years required for a drug to meander through your maze from that first spark in a scientist’s eye to your much-sought-after Good Housekeeping Seal. So what do you give us as our first reward? You have studied this rat shit in one hundred and fifty cities, on four continents, in a quarter-million suffering, desperate, docile bodies. You have tested it alone, in numerous combinations, in high dose and low dose, in early intervention and late. You have spent over $300 million attempting to disguise the truth we told you seven years ago, based on our own experience using bootleg supplies we smuggled out of the factories of its manufacturer in the dead of night, that rat shit is rat shit. But do you listen to us? Of course not. We are not scientists. Our results are not based on “good science,” “controlled” studies that cost $300 million. How dare you still dispense this. . . this . . . this rat shit?!

  HANNIMAN: When will you tell us how you really feel? (Angry.) Why do you and yours always and automatically believe the worst about everything we do? This “rat shit” has become the standard of care against which we must test anything new. That’s the only way we can find out if anything is better. And you know as well as I do that so far there’s nothing else to use as a control! To measure new “rat shit” against! (Looking out the window:) Oh, why are you here! We’re all doing the best we can. Do you want vengeance or do you want a cure!

  NED: I’m here to try the top-secret experimental miracle your husband has up his high-tech ass to redeem his wretched reputation (Brandishing the bottle again.) before all of the billion presently predicted cases die. It’s called a last-ditch stand.

  HANNIMAN: You’ve already been given the first part of the top-secret experimental miracle. What do you think it was I rammed up your low-tech ass? And you have to take this with it. (Getting a glass of water and practically ramming some pills down his throat.) Because the protocol we’ve submitted to the seventeen committees Congress mandates must repeat must vote approval every time Tony pisses requires that you cannot take one without the other. You want to be saved? Shut your fucking mouth and let us save you our way. Swallow! (Leaves when she sees be does.)

  (RENA returns wearing a different uniform.)

  RICHARD: Now he doesn’t believe in God.

  RENA: Come with me tonight for a change.

  ALEXANDER: All God is is just a little black book in the sky where it’s written down exactly when we’re going to die.

  RENA: That’s very original. Alexander, the dishes.

  RICHARD: You’re going out again?

  ALEXANDER: That’s all God is. A little black book.

  RENA: You know tonight is my night for being a hostess to the servicemen at the Stage Door Canteen. Come with me. We could dance.

  ALEXANDER: Saying when we’re going to die.

  RICHARD: I don’t want to dance.

  ALEXANDER: It sure would save a lot of time if I could read it right now.

  RENA: We used to go everywhere. Mrs. Roosevelt might he there. And those Andrews Sisters.

  ALEXANDER: Ma, I know all their songs!

  RICHARD: I’m tired. Sometimes I feel real old, Rene.

  ALEXANDER: Take me!

  RENA: Don’t say that. You’ll talk yourself into it.

  RICHARD: And like I’m not going to make it.

  NED: (Directed toward RICHARD.) You’re the same age I am now.

  ALEXANDER: Don’t you dare feel sorry for him!


  RENA: You’re fine and our health is fine and you finally have a full-time job. We’re all fine.

  NED: You have . . . thirty years before you die . . .

  RENA: I feel I’m really doing something useful. I love my job.

  RICHARD: Which one? You have so many.

  RENA: I like helping people. Why does that bother you so? What’s wrong with my feeling good? (Starts clearing the table.)

  RICHARD: I don’t feel good. I’ve never felt at home here. I can’t wait to go back home.

  NED: You can’t retire for twenty years.

  RICHARD: Nineteen.

  NED: Amost twenty.

  RICHARD: Nineteen and a half.

  ALEXANDER: Nineteen and three-quarters.

  RENA: (To ALEXANDER.) Didn’t you forget something?

  ALEXANDER: (Giving her a ritual kiss.) A kiss for the cook.

  RICHARD: A kiss for the cook? What did she cook?

  RENA: Washington is such a transient city. Everyone’s always talking about going back to someplace else. Funny how nobody ever thinks this place is home.

  ALEXANDER: We don’t live in Washington. We live on the wrong side of the District Line. We are of the Capital of the United States but we are not in it.

  RICHARD: We never should have left Connecticut. We’re going back.

  ALEXANDER: We are outsiders.

  RENA: I like it here. People do all sorts of interesting, important things. I got a new assignment. I’m going to help avert the many accidents suffered by returning servicemen just out of military hospitals and with prosthetic limbs.

  ALEXANDER: What’s prosthetic limbs?

  NED: (Starts singing softly, then a little dance.) “Blue skies, smiling at me. . . “

  RENA: Artificial arms and legs and hands. Made of wood and metal. When these wounded men go into stores, the sales personnel recoil in fear and horror. I’m going to be trained at the Pentagon! And then I’ll be sent to department stores like Garfinkel’s and specialty stores, like Rich’s Shoes. And I’ll bring these arms and hands and legs with me so the staff can see and feel them and then they won’t be so frightened of them and they can come right up to these men and say, “May I help you, sir?”

  ALEXANDER: Mom, that’s very depressing. I know all the Andrews Sisters’ songs!

  RICHARD: That’s very depressing.

  ALEXANDER: Please!

  (RENA goes back into her bedroom. ALEXANDER begins to sing a medley of Andrews Sisters songs.)

  “Oh give me land lots of land under starry skies above . . .” “Drinking rum and Coca-Cola . . .” “Don’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me . . .” “There’s going to be a hallelujah day, When the boys have all come home to stay . . .”

  RICHARD: Stop that.

  ALEXANDER: (Dancing, kicking high.) “And a million bands begin to play. . .”

  RICHARD: I said stop it!

  ALEXANDER: “We’ll be dancing the Victory Polka!”

  NED: “Never saw the sun shining so bright. . .”

  ALEXANDER: You like the way Fred Astaire dances.

  RICHARD: You don’t dance like Fred Astaire.

  NED: “Noticing the days hurrying by. . .”

  ALEXANDER: How do you know I won’t develop? Even Fred started somewhere. “When you’re in love, my how time flies. . .”

  (RICHARD pounces on him suddenly, trying to restrain the dance movements. But the kid refuses to stop and RICHARD finds himself becoming more violent than he intended.)

  Poppa!

  (RICHARD lets go, shaking his head at what has come over him; he sits down and stares into space, before taking up his paper again.)

  Why can’t I do what I want to?

  NED: (Helping him up from the floor.) That is probably the least satisfactorily answered question in the history of man.

  ALEXANDER: (Defiantly.) Oh, I am going to do with my life every single thing I want to do I don’t care what and you better, too!

  (RENA comes out wearing an outfit for hostessing at the Stage Door Canteen. She carries a wooden leg and an arm with a metal hook. She takes NED’s hand and makes him touch the limbs.)

  RENA: I want my son to become a leader in the fight against discrimination and prejudice. Don’t stay up too late. (Unloads the limbs on NED and kisses him good night. Starting out, passing RICHARD.) Last chance. It will cheer you up. (Leaves.)

  RICHARD: Yes, I have a good job. Yes, the government is a good employer that’ll never fire me if I keep my mouth shut.

  (NED gives the limbs to ALEXANDER.)

  (Laying out utensils, bowl, and cereal for his breakfast.) I supervise the documentation of all the ocean-going vessels that come anywhere near or leave our shores. I verify their seaworthiness. I study their manifests and any supporting documents. Then I make a decision. Yes or No. There’s not much evidence of crime on the high seas anymore, so usually there isn’t any reason to say No. Each day is like the one before. Each week and month and year are the same. For this I went to Yale and Yale Law School. For this I get up every day at dawn while everyone’s asleep. So I can go through life stamping papers Yes. I got a raise.

  ALEXANDER: So did I. Thank you, Poppa. (Tries to hug him, still holding the limbs.) Poppa, would you like me to get up early and have breakfast with you?

  RICHARD: (Taking the limbs from him and moving away.) That’s okay. You finish your homework, boy?

  ALEXANDER: Yes, Poppa.

  RICHARD: That’s good. You’ve got to get into Yale. Good night, boy.

  ALEXANDER: Good night, Poppa. Poppa. . .

  (ALEXANDER wants to kiss him and be kissed. Rut RICHARD goes into his bedroom, taking the limbs.)

  Does the fighting stop someday?

  NED: No.

  ALEXANDER: Does any dream come true? (No answer.) Should I stop wishing?

  NED: (Pause.) A few dreams do.

  ALEXANDER: You had me worried.

  NED: Not many.

  ALEXANDER: Are you afraid if you tell me the truth I’ll slit my wrists?

  NED: I wish you could know now everything that happened so you could avoid the things that hurt.

  ALEXANDER: Would I do anything differently?

  NED: I don’t know if we can.

  ALEXANDER: Then don’t tell me. I guess it wouldn’t be much fun anyway if I knew everything in advance. It will become fun. . . ? Oh, Ned, I want a friend so bad . . . ly!

  NED: I know.

  ALEXANDER: (Taking out Dr. Krafft-Ebing and reading from it.) “X, a young student in North Germany, began his sexual life in his thirteenth year when he became acquainted with another boy. From that point, he frequently indulged in immissio penis in os, although his ambition was always penem viri in anum. My advice was to strenuously combat these impulses, perform marital duties, eschew masturbation, and undergo treatment.” You sort of get the feeling that, whatever it is, Dr. Krafft-Ebing doesn’t want you to do it. Ned, who am I? Who can tell me?

  NED: There isn’t anyone.

  ALEXANDER: I’ll talk to Benjamin! Why haven’t I done it before?

  NED: (Trying to hold him back.) Alexander . . .

  ALEXANDER: Let go!

  NED: Don’t tell Ben!

  ALEXANDER: Benjamin is the most important person in my life.

  NED: Not yet. You’re not good friends yet.

  ALEXANDER: We are too! Don’t you say that too!

  (The lights change to nighttime. There is moonlight. BENJAMIN, in a West Point uniform and carrying a small duffel bag comes home. BENJAMIN rarely raises his voice; his anger is inside of him and his quiet and serious determination is pervasive.)

  NED: Ben, you were so handsome.

  (HANNIMAN enters and turns on the light, breaking the mood. She carries a tray on which are four plastic cups, each with a different-colored liquid.)

  HANNIMAN: Before we extract your blood and process it to insert the necessary genetic material, we must determine if you are capable of being transfected—that is, hospitable to receiving our
retroviruses containing new genetic instructions without becoming infected or infectious. Each colored liquid contains a different radioactive antibody tracer which will be able to locate that part of your declining immune system that will he the best host for our new virus. L’chaim. (Handing him each glass and seeing that he empties each one completely.) I thought you should know, since of course you don’t, that those picketers outside, who, of course, aren’t in any way connected with your being here, are growing in number. They have sleeping bags and seem to be camping out. Is something going to happen in the morning that’s awful? Last year a bunch sneaked in and chained themselves to Tony’s lab tables. The police had to saw off the metal legs before they could take them to jail. OMB charged our budget $300,000 for new tables so we have $300,000 less to save your life. (As NED finishes by taking his pills.) What a good boy. Now we’ll be able to see if a straight path can be cleared. (Turns out the light and leaves.)

  (BENJAMIN crosses in the dark and turns on a light in the bedroom. ALEXANDER wakes up and throws himself into his arms.)

  ALEXANDER: Benjamin! I must talk to you! When you’re not here, I talk to you from my bed to yours. Do you talk to me? (No answer.) I pretend Mom and Pop are both dead in a car crash and you and I live together happily ever after.

  BENJAMIN: Hey, cheer me up, Lemon.

  ALEXANDER: Guess what I got voted in class? (No answer.) Most talkative. (No answer.) Oh, Benjamin, I have so much to say. It’s imperative I talk to you.

  (RICHARD, in pajamas and slippers, enters, pulling on a robe. RENA, in nightgown and slippers only, follows, bearing a plate of brownies.)

  BENJAMIN: I’d hoped you, not Uncle Leon, would be there for my pretrial deposition. Not as my lawyer. As my father.

  RICHARD: I almost died!

  BENJAMIN: My trial was scheduled long before your operation. Your operation wasn’t an emergency. I was court-martialed.

  RICHARD: I had to go when the doctor was free.

  RENA: He’s very famous.

  BENJAMIN: Uncle Leon showed up three days late. They put me in detention until he came. The first thing he said to me was: “Your daddy has more money to pay for a lawyer than you think.” You went to Uncle Leon, after not talking to him all these years, so you wouldn’t have to pay for a lawyer?

  RICHARD: I don’t know anything about the kind of law that governs the trouble you’re in!