Case lets him hang there. He begins getting flustered.
Frankly, I don’t even remember what this whole thing was about. I feel I’ve lost some of your confidence, and it’s... well, it’s unfair, I feel.
CASE: I understand.
GELLBURG, he waits, but that’s it: But... but don’t you believe me?
CASE: I think I do.
GELLBURG: But... you seem to be ... you don’t seem...
CASE: The fact remains that I’ve lost the building.
GELLBURG: But are you ... I mean you’re not still thinking that I had something going on with Allan Kershowitz, are you?
CASE: Put it this way—I hope as time goes on that my old confidence will return. That’s about as far as I can go, and I don’t think you can blame me, can you. He stands.
GELLBURG, despite himself his voice rises: But how can I work if you’re this way? You have to trust a man, don’t you?
CASE, begins to indicate he must leave: I’ll have to ask you to...
GELLBURG, shouting: I don’t deserve this! You can’t do this to me! It’s not fair, Mr. Case, I had nothing to do with Allan Kershowitz! I hardly know the man! And the little I do know I don’t even like him, I’d certainly never get into a deal with him, for God’s sake! This is ... this whole thing is ... Exploding: I don’t understand it, what is happening, what the hell is happening, what have I got to do with Allan Kershowitz, just because he’s also a Jew?
CASE, incredulously and angering: What? What on earth are you talking about!
GELLBURG: Excuse me. I didn’t mean that.
CASE: I don’t understand... how could you say a thing like that!
GELLBURG: Please. I don’t feel well, excuse me ...
CASE, his resentment mounting: But how could you say such a thing! It’s an outrage, Gellburg!
Gellburg takes a step to leave and goes to his knees, clutching his chest, trying to breathe, his face reddening.
CASE: What is it? Gellburg? He springs up and goes to the periphery. Call an ambulance! Hurry, for God’s sake! He rushes out, shouting: Quick, get a doctor! It’s Gellburg! Gellburg has collapsed!
Gellburg remains on his hands and knees trying to keep from falling over, gasping.
Blackout.
SCENE FOUR
Sylvia in wheelchair, Margaret and Harriet seated on either side of her. Sylvia is sipping a cup of cocoa.
HARRIET: He’s really amazing, after such an attack.
MARGARET: The heart is a muscle; muscles can recover sometimes.
HARRIET: I still can’t understand how they let him out of the hospital so soon.
MARGARET: He has a will of iron. But it may be just as well for him here.
SYLVIA: He wants to die here.
MARGARET: No one can know, he can live a long time.
SYLVIA, handing her the cup: Thanks. I haven’t drunk cocoa in years.
MARGARET: I find it soothes the nerves.
SYLVIA, with a slight ironical edge: He wants to be here so we can have a talk, that’s what it is. Shakes her head. How stupid it all is; you keep putting everything off like you’re going to live a thousand years. But we’re like those little flies-born in the morning, fly around for a day till it gets dark-and bye-bye.
HARRIET: Well, it takes time to learn things.
SYLVIA: There’s nothing I know now that I didn’t know twenty years ago. I just didn’t say it. Grasping the chair wheels. Help me! I want to go to him.
MARGARET: Wait till Harry says it’s all right.
HARRIET: Sylvia, please-let the doctor decide.
MARGARET: I hope you’re not blaming yourself.
HARRIET: It could happen to anybody—To Margaret. Our father, for instance-laid down for his nap one afternoon and never woke up. To Sylvia. Remember?
SYLVIA, a wan smile, nods: He was the same way all his life —never wanted to trouble anybody.
HARRIET: And just the day before he went and bought a new bathing suit. And an amber holder for his cigar. To Sylvia—She’s right, you mustn’t start blaming yourself.
SYLVIA, a shrug: What’s the difference? Sighs tiredly-stares. Basically to Margaret. The trouble, you see-was that Phillip always thought he was supposed to be the Rock of Gibraltar. Like nothing could ever bother him. Supposedly. But I knew a couple of months after we got married that he ... he was making it all up. In fact, I thought I was stronger than him. But what can you do? You swallow it and make believe you’re weaker. And after a while you can’t find a true word to put in your mouth. And now I end up useless to him... starting to weep, just when he needs me!
HARRIET, distressed, stands: I’m making a gorgeous pot roast, can I bring some over?
SYLVIA: Thanks, Flora’s going to cook something.
HARRIET: I’ll call you later, try to rest. Moves to leave, halts, unable to hold back. I refuse to believe that you’re blaming yourself for this. How can people start saying what they know?—there wouldn’t be two marriages left in Brooklyn! Nearly overcome. It’s ridiculous!—you’re the best wife he could have had!—better! She hurries out. Pause.
MARGARET: I worked in the pediatric ward for a couple of years. And sometimes we’d have thirty or forty babies in there at the same time. A day or two old and they’ve already got a personality; this one lays there, stiff as a mummy ... mimes a mummy, hands closed in fists, a regular banker. The next one is throwing himself all over the place ... wildly flinging her arms, happy as a young horse. The next one is Miss Dreary, already worried about her hemline drooping. And how could it be otherwise-each one has twenty thousand years of the human race backed up behind him ... and you expect to change him?
SYLVIA: So what does that mean? How do you live?
MARGARET: You draw your cards face down; you turn them over and do your best with the hand you got. What else is there, my dear? What else can there be?
SYLVIA, staring ahead: ... Wishing, I guess... that it had been otherwise. Help me! Starts the chair rolling. I want to go to him.
MARGARET: Wait. I’ll ask Harry if it’s all right. Backing away. Wait, okay? I’ll be right back.
She turns and exits. Alone, Sylvia brings both hands pressed together up to her lips in a sort of prayer, and closes her eyes.
Blackout.
SCENE FIVE
The cellist plays, the music falls away.
Gellburg’s bedroom. He is in bed. Hyman is putting his stethoscope back into his bag, and sits on a chair beside the bed.
HYMAN: I can only tell you again, Phillip,—you belong in the hospital.
GELLBURG: Please don’t argue about it anymore! I couldn’t stand it there, it smells like a zoo; and to lay in a bed where some stranger died... I hate it. If I’m going out I’ll go from here. And I don’t want to leave Sylvia.
HYMAN: I’m trying to help you. Chuckles. And I’m going to go on trying even if it kills both of us.
GELLBURG: I appreciate that. I mean it. You’re a good man.
HYMAN: You’re lucky I know that. The nurse should be here around six.
GELLBURG: I’m wondering if I need her—I think the pain is practically gone.
HYMAN: I want her here overnight.
GELLBURG: I ... I want to tell you something; when I collapsed... it was like an explosion went off in my head, like a tremendous white light. It sounds funny but I felt a ... happiness... that funny? Like I suddenly had something to tell her that would change everything, and we would go back to how it was when we started out together. I couldn’t wait to tell it to her... and now I can’t remember what it was. Anguished, a rushed quality; suddenly near tears. God, I always thought there’d be time to get to the bottom of myself!
HYMAN: You might have years, nobody can predict.
GELLBURG: It’s unbelievable-the first time since I was twenty I don’t have a job. I just can’t believe it.
HYMAN: You sure? Maybe you can clear it up with your boss when you go back.
GELLBURG: How can I go back? He made a fool of me.
It’s infuriating. I tell you—I never wanted to see it this way but he goes sailing around on the ocean and meanwhile I’m foreclosing Brooklyn for them. That’s what it boils down to. You got some lousy rotten job to do, get Gellburg, send in the Yid. Close down a business, throw somebody out of his home.... And now to accuse me...
HYMAN: But is all this news to you? That’s the system, isn’t it?
GELLBURG: But to accuse me of double-crossing the company ! That is absolutely unfair... it was like a hammer between the eyes. I mean to me Brooklyn Guarantee—for God’s sake, Brooklyn Guarantee was like... like...
HYMAN: You’re getting too excited, Phillip... come on now. Changing the subject:—I understand your son is coming back from the Philippines.
GELLBURG, he catches his breath for a moment: ... She show you his telegram? He’s trying to make it here by Monday. Scared eyes and a grin. Or will I last till Monday?
HYMAN: You’ve got to start thinking about more positive things—seriously, your system needs a rest.
GELLBURG: Who’s that talking?
HYMAN, indicating upstage: I asked Margaret to sit with your wife for a while, they’re in your son’s bedroom.
GELLBURG: Do you always take so much trouble?
HYMAN: I like Sylvia.
GELLBURG, his little grin: I know... I didn’t think it was for my sake.
HYMAN: You’re not so bad. I have to get back to my office now.
GELLBURG: Please if you have a few minutes, I’d appreciate it. Almost holding his breath. Tell me—the thing she’s so afraid of... is me isn’t it?
HYMAN: Well... among other things.
GELLBURG, shock: It’s me?
HYMAN: I think so ... partly.
Gellburg presses his fingers against his eyes to regain control.
GELLBURG: How could she be frightened of me! I worship her! Quickly controlling: How could everything turn out to be the opposite—I made my son in this bed and now I’m dying in it ... Breaks off, downing a cry. My thoughts keep flying around-everything from years ago keeps coming back like it was last week. Like the day we bought this bed. Abraham & Straus. It was so sunny and beautiful. I took the whole day off. (God, it’s almost twenty-five years ago!) ... Then we had a soda at Schrafft’s—of course they don’t hire Jews but the chocolate ice cream is the best. Then we went over to Orchard Street for bargains. Bought our first pots and sheets, blankets, pillowcases. The street was full of pushcarts and men with long beards like a hundred years ago. It’s funny, I felt so at home and happy there that day, a street full of Jews, one Moses after another. But they all turned to watch her go by, those fakers. She was a knockout; sometimes walking down a street I couldn’t believe I was married to her. Listen... Breaks off, with some diffidence: You’re an educated man, I only went to high school—I wish we could talk about the Jews.
HYMAN: I never studied the history, if that’s what you...
GELLBURG: ... I don’t know where I am ...
HYMAN: You mean as a Jew?
GELLBURG: Do you think about it much? I never... for instance, a Jew in love with horses is something I never heard of
HYMAN: My grandfather in Odessa was a horse dealer.
GELLBURG: You don’t say! I wouldn’t know you were Jewish except for your name.
HYMAN: I have cousins up near Syracuse who’re still in the business-they break horses. You know there are Chinese Jews.
GELLBURG: I heard of that! And they look Chinese?
HYMAN: They are Chinese. They’d probably say you don’t look Jewish.
GELLBURG: Ha! That’s funny. His laugh disappears; he stares. Why is it so hard to be a Jew?
HYMAN: It’s hard to be anything.
GELLBURG: No, it’s different for them. Being a Jew is a full-time job. Except you don’t think about it much, do you. -Like when you’re on your horse, or ...
HYMAN: It’s not an obsession for me ...
GELLBURG: But how’d you come to marry a shiksa?
HYMAN: We were thrown together when I was interning, and we got very close, and... well she was a good partner, she helped me, and still does. And I loved her.
GELLSURG:—a Jewish woman couldn’t help you?
HYMAN: Sure. But it just didn’t happen.
GELLBURG: It wasn’t so you wouldn’t seem Jewish.
HYMAN, coldly: I never pretended I wasn’t Jewish.
GELLBURG, almost shaking with some fear: Look, don’t be mad, I’m only trying to figure out ...
HYMAN, sensing the underlying hostility: What are you driving at, I don’t understand this whole conversation.
GELLBURG: Hyman... Help me! I’ve never been so afraid in my life.
HYMAN: If you’re alive you’re afraid; we’re born afraid—a newborn baby is not a picture of confidence; but how you deal with fear, that’s what counts. I don’t think you dealt with it very well.
GELLBURG: Why? How did I deal with it?
HYMAN: I think you tried to disappear into the goyim.
GELLBURG: ... You believe in God?
HYMAN: I’m a socialist. I think we’re at the end of religion.
GELLBURG: You mean everybody working for the government.
HYMAN: It’s the only future that makes any rational sense.
GELLBURG: God forbid. But how can there be Jews if there’s no God?
HYMAN: Oh, they’ll find something to worship. The Christians will too-maybe different brands of ketchup.
GELLBURG, laughs: Boy, the things you come out with sometimes... !
HYMAN: -Some day we’re all going to look like a lot of monkeys running around trying to figure out a coconut.
GELLBUKG: She believes in you, Hyman... I want you to tell her—tell her I’m going to change. She has no right to be so frightened. Of me or anything else. They will never destroy us. When the last Jew dies, the light of the world will go out. She has to understand that-those Germans are shooting at the sun!
HYMAN: Be quiet.
GELLBURG: I want my wife back. I want her back before something happens. I feel like there’s nothing inside me, I feel empty. I want her back.
HYMAN: Phillip, what can I do about that?
GELLBURG: Never mind... since you started coming around... in those boots... like some kind of horseback rider... ?
HYMAN: What the hell are you talking about!
GELLBURG: Since you came around she looks down at me like a miserable piece of shit!
HYMAN: Phillip...
GELLBURG: Don’t “Phillip” me, just stop it!
HYMAN: Don’t scream at me Phillip, you know how to get your wife back! ... don’t tell me there’s a mystery to that!
GELLBURG: She actually told you that I ...
HYMAN: It came out while we were talking. It was bound to sooner or later, wasn’t it?
GELLBURG, gritting his teeth: I never told this to anyone... but years ago when I used to make love to her, I would almost feel like a small baby on top of her, like she was giving me birth. That’s some idea? In bed next to me she was like a ... a marble god. I worshipped her, Hyman, from the day I laid eyes on her.
HYMAN: I’m sorry for you Phillip.
GELLBURG: How can she be so afraid of me? Tell me the truth.
HYMAN: I don’t know; maybe, for one thing... these remarks you’re always making about Jews.
GELLBURG: What remarks?
HYMAN: Like not wanting to be mistaken for Goldberg.
GELLBURG: So I’m a Nazi? Is Gellburg Goldberg? It’s not, is it?
HYMAN: No, but continually making the point is kind of...
GELLBURG: Kind of what? What is kind of? Why don’t you say the truth?
HYMAN: All right, you want the truth? Do you? Look in the mirror sometime!
GELLBURG: ... In the mirror!
HYMAN: You hate yourself, that’s what’s scaring her to death. That’s my opinion. How it’s possible I don’t know, but I think you helped paralyze her with this “Jew, Jew, Jew” coming out of your mouth and the same
time she reads it in the paper and it’s coming out of the radio day and night? You wanted to know what I think... that’s what I think.
Broken Glass Page 8