Eric I plan to as soon as he’s awake.
Henry Make sure he gets whatever he needs. And, ah, be sure to give him some money to help him get back on his feet.
Eric Henry, Leo needs our help, not just our assistance.
Henry What are you suggesting we do?
Eric I want him to stay with us / for a while.
Henry No.
Eric You’ll be gone for the next five weeks.
Henry Eric, that is just not possible.
Eric Why isn’t it possible?
Henry Because what you’re describing is a months-perhaps even years-long undertaking.
Eric Who better than a billionaire to undertake it?
Henry He’s not a stray dog you can just bring in off the street.
Eric You make it sound as though he’s worse than that. We can’t just fob him off with a few dollars and some kind words, Henry.
Henry You cannot sacrifice yourself to save him.
Eric Why can’t I?
Henry Because he isn’t our responsibility.
Eric You don’t feel like we owe some kind of debt here?
Henry I never gave him drugs. I didn’t make him sick.
Eric You and Toby treated him as if he were disposable.
Henry Do not compare me to Toby. Toby’s the one who brought him to our house in six different kinds of altered states. He’s the one you should be giving this lecture to / not me.
Eric You paid a nineteen-year-old boy to have sex with you! You don’t get to take advantage of a desperate young person when it suits you and then turn your back on him when it becomes inconvenient. Why can’t you be honest with yourself for once in your life and say: ‘What Toby has done, I have done too’?
Henry Am I responsible for every person I’ve ever fucked? Am I responsible for every person you’ve ever met? You cannot save the entire world, Eric.
Eric I’m only trying to save one person.
Henry Which person, Eric? Him or yourself? I want him out of my house.
Eric And if I refuse?
A beat, then:
Henry Then I want you out, too.
4. Streets of the West Village
Eric Eric stormed out of the town house and into the streets of the West Village, raging at Henry’s heartlessness. He was furious at Henry for confirming all of Jasper’s dire warnings about him.
But Eric was also furious with himself. Eric had spent his life refusing to make waves because he knew that it was in them that the weakest swimmers drowned. When Toby left him, Eric had grabbed the nearest lifeboat and pulled himself to safety, leaving everyone else behind. And on that day in Toby’s apartment, it was Eric who had fobbed Leo off with a few dollars and some kind words. Eric had chosen his own comfort over the needs of this frightened young man. And in realizing that, Eric understood that he was no mere witness to Leo’s suffering. He was one of its authors.
Eric crossed Seventh Avenue and entered the park in Sheridan Square. Sitting on a bench in his expensive clothes, holding the keys to his fourteen-million-dollar home, Eric Glass asked himself the simple questions:
‘What good am I? To what use has my life been put?’
Eric glanced over at the Stonewall Inn, just across the square from where he sat, where, years before, an unexpected group of people roared their defiance at their powerlessness. Those people did not fear drowning. They built their own lifeboats. They saved themselves. No. They saved each other.
It was the same salvation that Walter had found. A salvation based on the understanding that in order to save oneself, one first had to save the world.
Eric took a breath and looked around him.
What was the responsibility between gay men from one generation to another? What was Eric’s role in that continuum? Eric wished he had Walter there with him to ask his advice, to seek his guidance. Walter would have known what to do.
And in that moment, Eric had his answer, as if Walter was still illuminating the path for him even now.
There was a house three hours north of the city that sat unloved and unused. A house that had once been a place where young men went to die. Maybe it could now be a place where they went to thrive.
End of Scene Two.
SCENE THREE
1. A Hotel Room in Alabama
Spring, 2018.
Toby Toby’s new play pours out of him in torrents. He labors over it for months, writing and rewriting it furiously in his hotel room in Alabama. He calls it Lost Boy, which is intended as a follow-up to his hit play Loved Boy.
Young Man 5 A sequel! I love it!
Toby Not a sequel. An answer. It contains all the truths of Toby’s life. For the first time, Toby has written honestly. Toby sends it to his agent, gets into his car and drives through the night back to New York City.
2. Agent’s Office
Agent So I read your play.
Toby And?
Agent I had my assistant circle all your typos.
Toby My typos?
Young Man 4 Here’s a list of them by page.
Toby Is this a joke? A twenty-page list of my typos?
Young Man 4 You had a lot of typos.
Agent The script is over four hundred pages! You can’t ask an audience to sit through a play that long!
Toby I can do some cutting.
Agent I think it’s more than just cutting you need to do. The play makes no sense.
Toby That play is the best thing I’ve ever written.
Agent No, Toby. Loved Boy is the best thing you’ve ever written.
Toby No, Loved Boy was a lie. This is the truth. Please. You don’t understand what this play means to me. / I poured –
Agent I thought this was a joke when you sent it. But now looking at you, I see that it isn’t. And that really worries me.
Toby Sure, I’ve been a little checked out lately / but it’s because I’ve been writing this play.
Agent Look, you need to understand that your reputation in this business is in the toilet right now. You get fired off your own play. Your director and your star refuse to even be in a room with you. You vanish for seven months. And now here you are, back from the dead, looking like shit, reeking of alcohol and you dump this fifty-pound play on my desk and insist that I send it out.
Toby (simultaneously, overlapping) Look, I know I’ve been a little –
But I really believe –
I poured my –
Oh, fuck Adam, he doesn’t –
You don’t know what it –
My heart, my heart and my fucking –
I have to tell –
I need, I need, I I I I need to –
I’ll fucking die if I don’t.
I can’t really think straight right now.
Please, listen to me. Loved Boy isn’t my story, it isn’t who I am.
Agent Then who are you, Toby?
Toby (pointing to his new play) There. That play is who I am.
Agent Well there we are in agreement. Because both you and this script are an unintelligible mess / right now.
Toby Oh come on / there is good writing in there.
Agent This doesn’t feel like the work of the man who wrote Loved Boy, it feels like the work of someone who hates the man / who wrote Loved Boy.
Toby There is truth in there. My life / is in there.
Agent I cannot in good conscience send this to anyone, Toby.
Toby Please, I have nothing left if I – I have to tell the truth.
Agent Then you need to admit that you’ve got a drug and alcohol problem.
Toby No, I need you to send out this play.
Another Agent appears at the door.
Other Agent Hey Toby, good to see you.
Agent This is Alex. He works in our sports department.
Other Agent Listen, I know this place in Pennsylvania. I went there seven years ago. It saved my life. Why don’t we go get a cup of coffee and have a talk?
Toby Are you joking?
Agent We’re worried about
you, Toby.
Toby I’m not, I’m not going to a fucking rehab.
Agent We think maybe you should.
Toby I’m not – no – I don’t – How dare you?
Agent We only want what’s best for you, Toby.
Other Agent I have been where you are, man.
Toby No you haven’t. I’m on top of the fucking world. You’re a goddamned sports agent. Go fuck yourself. I’m not a – I don’t need a –
Gimme my fucking play.
Toby grabs his script.
Agent Toby, please don’t do this.
Other Agent The first step is always the hardest, Toby.
Agent If you don’t get help, we cannot continue to represent you.
3. Toby’s Apartment
Toby Toby storms into his apartment and quickly drafts an email. Subject line: My new play.
‘My former agent refuses to send this out so I fired him and am doing it myself. It’s the best thing I’ve ever written.’
Toby then opens his address book and copies every single person.
Young Man 2 Friends –
Young Man 4 Colleagues –
Young Man 7 Fellow writers –
Young Man 5 Agents –
Young Man 8 Literary managers –
Young Man 3 Artistic directors –
Young Man 4 Studio and network executives –
Young Man 7 Film producers –
Young Man 5 Broadway producers –
Young Man 6 Times reporters –
Young Man 2 Former lovers –
Young Man 8 Long-lost friends –
Young Man 4 His optometrist –
Young Man 3 Eric –
Young Man 6 Tristan –
Young Man 2 and Young Man 8 The Jasons –
Young Man 5 Tom Durrell –
Young Man 7 The cast of his play –
Young Man 6 Adam –
Toby and Lads Everyone.
Toby A voice inside him tells him to stop and think about this but before he has time to listen, Toby hits send.
Young Man 4 757 emails – going, going, going –
Toby And then that voice roars at him: ‘STOP! Stop, Toby, for God’s sake stop!’ And Toby is snapped back to coherence. He reaches for the mouse pad and tries to stop the emails but they keep going.
Young Man 8 Five emails –
Young Man 2 Twenty –
Young Man 7 Fifty emails –
Young Man 6 One hundred.
Toby Toby tries to disengage the wi-fi but his trembling fingers won’t obey his commands.
Young Man 5 Two hundred –
Young Man 3 Three hundred more emails.
Toby Toby starts to pound on the computer, trying desperately to stop the slow suicide he has just initiated upon his career.
Young Man 4 Five hundred emails sent.
Toby Toby screams. He picks up the computer and smashes it down on the ground.
Young Man 3 Texts and emails begin to pour in almost immediately.
Young Man 8 Toby, it this for real?
Young Man 7 Toby, are you okay?
Young Man 6 Toby, do you realize you sent this to a thousand people?
Young Man 4 Toby, I can’t wait to read this.
Young Man 3 Toby, delete me from your contacts.
Young Man 2 Toby, where have you been?
Young Man 5 Toby, you just destroyed your career.
Eric Toby, did you mean to include me in this email? Are you okay? I’ve been trying to reach you. Call me. I’m going to Walter’s house tomorrow. I think you should come and meet me there. I think there’s a lot we both need to face.
Slowly, gently, insistently, Walter’s house begins to appear behind Toby. Like it did once before with Eric, the house consumes the stage and envelops Toby in its patient embrace.
Toby And then a voice in his head. A voice long dormant, now insisting: ‘This is not the man you’re meant to be. There is another way. Heal or burn, Toby, heal or burn.’ And Toby knows that he must finally heal.
End of Scene Three.
SCENE FOUR
Spring, 2018.
Eric And so Eric traveled once again to Walter’s house. Eric looked over at Leo in the passenger seat, silently watching the farmland of upstate roll past him, and he was struck with fear that he had jumped into the water without first measuring its depth. Eric was terrified. And, strangely, he felt more like himself than he had in years.
1. Walter’s House
Eric and Leo approach the house. Its façade obscures the interior. Leo takes in the house, the property.
Leo You own this house?
Eric No. It belongs to my –
It used to belong to a friend of mine. His name was Walter. Walter loved this house. He wanted so much to share it with me but he never got a chance. You and I can explore it together, once you’re up for it.
They breathe deeply, enjoying the sun.
You will get better.
Leo That’s hard for me to believe right now.
Eric I know. It probably won’t be easy. But we’re going to try.
Leo looks out at the meadow.
Leo Those wildflowers are beautiful.
Eric They are, aren’t they? You know what? I’ll be right back.
He runs off toward the meadow.
The breeze picks up. Leo closes his eyes and feels it on his face. The sounds of birds and rustling trees and, distantly, a wind chime. While his eyes are still closed, a woman appears. Her name is Margaret. She’s in her seventies. She watches Leo a moment. Then:
Margaret Hello.
Leo jumps, startled.
I didn’t mean to startle you. You looked very peaceful just then. You can’t be Eric.
Leo No, I’m Leo.
Margaret I’m Margaret. Is Eric with you?
Leo He’s picking flowers in the meadow.
Margaret stares off in Eric’s direction, as if studying him.
Margaret What do we think of him?
Leo Eric? He’s nice.
Margaret Is he? That’s good to know. Any other adjectives you’d care to use?
Leo He’s kind. Gentle. Honest.
Margaret I like those kinds of people.
Leo I don’t know many.
Margaret That’s because there aren’t many.
You picked a beautiful day.
Leo It’s peaceful here.
Margaret I think so.
Leo I still have the city in my head. Car horns and chaos.
Margaret That’ll fade eventually. I understand you’re unwell.
Leo Eric thinks I’ll get better here.
Margaret Do you think you will?
Leo I don’t know anymore.
Margaret I know you will. If that is of any comfort.
Come here. There’s something I want to show you.
Leo hesitates, then takes her hand, slowly rising. She leads him to the cherry tree.
This tree is over four hundred years old, can you imagine that?
Local histories of this area include stories about this tree. Stories that stretch as far back as the colonial days.
Leo Are those … teeth?
Margaret Good eye. Those are pig’s teeth. They’ve been embedded there for centuries.
Leo Why?
Margaret Well, it was once believed that chewing the bark of this tree can cure toothaches and other maladies.
Leo No.
Margaret That’s the legend.
Leo Can it?
Margaret No, of course it doesn’t. If only it were that easy. That’s just superstition. The colonists who arrived here from England brought them with them. The superstitions, that is. Not the teeth. Although perhaps both, who knows? What I do find remarkable about that story is that it proves that people have been coming to this place for centuries in search of healing. Like you have. If there’s any consolation that I can give you, it is that you are not the first.
Leo looks up at the tree’s branches and touc
hes the trunk.
Eric enters, carrying a bundle of wildflowers in his hands.
Eric Hi. Are you / Margaret?
Margaret Margaret Avery, yes.
Eric Margaret, hello. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Eric, this is Leo.
Margaret Leo and I have already met. I thought we said eleven.
Eric We did, yes. I’m sorry we’re / late.
Margaret It’s half past noon.
Eric I know. I got distracted by the drive, it’s – I’m sorry for wasting your time.
Margaret No one wastes my time but me. I was telling Leo about this cherry tree.
Eric Yes, the teeth!
He goes to the tree, inspecting it.
Have you been taking care of the house for long?
Margaret I’ve been living in the area since 1989.
Eric So then you were you here when – ?
Margaret I was here when, yes.
Leo When what?
Margaret He doesn’t know?
Eric I haven’t told him yet.
Leo Told me what?
Margaret But he must know, he must understand.
Leo Understand what?
Margaret Leo, do you see that grove over there? In the distance, just beyond the meadow?
Leo Yes.
Margaret Once you’re strong enough, we’ll take a walk down there, the three of us. Through that grove, about fifty yards in, is a clearing where many men are buried.
Eric They’re buried here?
Margaret Walter never told you that?
Leo What men? Who’s buried there?
Margaret Years ago ago – before you were born – there was a plague. Do you know about it?
Leo Only a little.
Margaret And what little do you know about it?
Leo Many men died.
Margaret That could be said of any plague. What marked this as different?
Leo Many gay men died.
Margaret They died by the thousands. By the tens of thousands.
Americans have never been squeamish about death. We’ve buried soldiers on battlefields over the centuries; weathered floods and storms and earthquakes; fought cancer and polio and tuberculosis. And yet, thirty years ago we turned a blind eye to the deaths of tens of thousands of our fellow countrymen. Why were so many men allowed to die this way? I think it’s because these men’s illness required that Americans think about the means by which they contracted it. It required that we look at gay men and accept their nature, accept their affection and their desire for one another as equal to their own. Most Americans couldn’t do that. In our disgust, we looked away, we made ourselves deaf to the cries of so many of our fellow citizens, so many of our sons.
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