ACT l
AT RISE: Upstairs bedroom: double bed, chaise, bureau,
a couple of chairs, a TV. There are three
doors: bathroom,walk-in closet,
hallway. The blinds are drawn. Alarm
clock rings before curtain comes up.
MARTIN
(groggily leans over to stop alarm)
Shut up, you!
(HE buries his head under the pillow; MARGIE sits up on the other side of the bed. SHE gets up, drags her bathrobe from a nearby chair, goes to the window, pulls blind and wriggles into her bathrobe while she stands looking out. The day is overcast. MARTIN sits bed, rubs face with hands, shakes head, blubbers lips, squints. Foot contacts slipper. Unsuccessful search for the other slipper.)
MARTIN
Where’s my slipper?
MARGIE
How should I know?
(SHE waves through window)
MARTIN
You tidy up in here. I don’t.
MARGIE
There it is, honey.
MARTIN
I saw you.
(No answer.)
I saw you wave at that jerk.
MARGIE
He’s not a jerk, Martin, He’s your neighbor Charlie di Motta, a perfectly nice man…
MARTIN
who happens to look like JFK. Who just happens
MARGIE
and I was waving at Kitty getting the paper …
MARTIN
to be the most glamorous man in the country…
MARGIE
What’s wrong with that?
MARTIN
What’s wrong with what? Waving at Kitty?
MARGIE
Don’t deliberately misunderstand me. What’s wrong with looking like JFK? He’s a handsome man.
MARTIN
Nothing’s wrong with it, except you practically swoon very time
you see his photograph.
MARGIE
Are you going to start in on that again? It’s too early.
MARTIN
Better too early than too late.
MARGIE
What is that supposed to mean?
MARTIN
Nothing.
MARGIE
Oh, no you don’t. You’re not getting away with –
(searches)
innuendoes.
MARTIN
Innuendoes? What’s that? Sounds like a disease.
MARGIE
Hinting at something without saying it plainly.
MARTIN
Oh. Why didn’t you say so. You’re starting to sound like your
high IQ children.
MARGIE
My high IQ children?
MARTIN
Our high IQ children. Your affair. Better to nip it in the bud before it gets out of hand. Is that saying it plainly?
MARGIE
My affair with JFK? I should be so lucky!
MARTIN
Not JFK: Charlie di Motta.
MARGIE
Now look here, Martin. Get it through your head once and for all: I am not having an affair with Charlie di Motta! Got it? No affair With Charlie di Motta.
MARTIN
You think about it. It’s the same thing. It’s in the Bible.
MARGIE
Oh, give me a break.
(SHE goes into the bathroom. HE goes to the TV, turns it on.)
TV VOICE:
… with scattered showers, but clearing in the afternoon for a fine sunny November day. The cold weather front is moving briskly in from the Northwest….
MARGIE
(from the bathroom)
Turn it down, will you? You know TV hurts my ears in the morning.
MARTIN
(turning down the volume, but leaving on the picture)
I just wanted to get the weather.
MARGIE
(coming out of the bathroom, conciliatory)
What’s eating you, Martin? Is it the kids? Joel? Kitty?
MARTIN
That girl has sex on the brain.
MARGIE
So do you! … Sorry. It just popped out. She’s a teenager. She’s got hormones. What do you expect?
MARTIN
It’s not as if you had the same excuse.
MARGIE
If you don’t stop it, I’m not going to talk to you any more.
MARTIN
For Chrissakes. You said his name in your sleep last night.
(imitating) Charlie, oh, Charlie!
MARGIE
What? That’s ridiculous. I never talk in my sleep.
MARTIN
You did last night.
MARGIE
You dreamed it.
MARTIN
I heard you.
MARGIE
You dreamed you heard me.
MARTIN
It wasn’t a dream. I didn’t sleep a wink all night.
MARGIE
Then why did I hear you snoring?
MARTIN
I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a month.
MARGIE
Anyhow, we ate Mexican last night. Remember? You know how wild your dreams are when we eat Mexican.
(Long silence while they both move around the room, continuing to prepare for the day. MARTIN is now in his shorts. MARGIE goes to the bureau, takes out underwear, stockings, goes into the closet, comes out with a dress, goes over to the chair by the TV, kneels down on all fours to look underneath, then moves it so it blocks the TV screen.)
MARGIE
That’s odd. Have you seen my blue sweater?
MARTIN
What?
MARGIE
You know: My blue cardigan with the big pockets. I put it here on this chair before I changed yesterday evening. I’m sure of it.
MARTIN
What the hell: her blue sweater! Never mind adultery.
MARGIE
I remember it distinctly. I remember what I was thinking. I was thinking that blue has no taste. Green is peppermint. Red is cinnamon. Yellow is lemon. But blue isn’t anything. Isn’t it odd?
MARTIN
Odd? Adultery? No. It’s as common as grass. It springs up in the backyard.
MARGIE
It grew legs and walked away.
MARTIN
You bet: Magic: Your blue sweater and my wild dreams.
(SHE goes into the closet, puts on a dress, checks it in the full length mirror on back of the door.)
MARTIN
What are you doing today?
MARGIE
The usual. Errands. Laundry. Cleaners. I have my ceramics class ….. What about you?
MARTIN
What do you think? I’m going to the office, natch, and when I get there I’m going to lean back in my swivel chair with my feet on the desk and read A Coffin for Demetrius; then I’m going out for a three-martini lunch to celebrate a contract for 45,000 light fixtures with the new hotel downtown; and to cap off the day, I’m going to join the country club and hire a golf professional to teach me America’s favorite recreation.
MARGIE
My God you’re in a foul mood. Sorry I asked.
(SHE exits.)
MARTIN
Where’d I put my … I’d better can it. I may say something I’ll regret. If only I hadn’t lost that contract.
(muffled barking. HE goes to window, looks out)
There he goes: JFK to the life! The randy sonofabitch. What’s he waving at? He IS waving at her!
KITTY’S VOICE
Mother!
MARTIN
(shouting)
Don’t shout!
(KITTY bursts in. SHE wears a tightly fitting sweater and a wide waist pinching belt. She has a knockout figure.)
KITTY
Where’s Mother?
MARTIN
You should knock before you come in.
KITTY
Sorry about that. Where’s Mother?
MARTIN
Can’t you find something else to wear?
KITTY
What do I want to do that for?
MARTIN
Because you look like a tramp.
KITTY
Pop, don’t start that again. Please.
MARTIN
Your mother’s in the kitchen.
KITTY
No she’s not. I just looked.
MARTIN
Look again.
(Exit KITTY, bumps into JOEL on his way in. HE does an elaborate put on, falling to his knees and clutching his crotch.)
JOEL
Oh, Baby! don’t do this to me! Don’t stoke these fires you won’t put out. Take pity. Show mercy. I’m burning up. Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
KITTY
You are such a creep. You think Sally Bangs is drooling over you and she’s playing you for a patsy.
JOEL
Ahhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! Sally! Don’t do this to me. You’re so mean. You’re as mean as my sister. She treats me like dirt. I’m not dirt. I’m flesh and blood. I’m a man. I have feelings. Pity weak flesh.
(at the top of his lungs, after KITTY who has walked off)
DEEP DOWN, I KNOW YOU LOVE ME!
MARTIN
(with his fingers in his ears)
Where do you think you are? This is not a theater.
JOEL
(getting up perfunctorily)
Sorry about that, Pop.
MARTIN
What do you want? Money?
JOEL
A fifty, Pop. Just a fifty. Not enough to spit on. A fifty would go a long way toward making me happy.
MARTIN
Fifty dollars!
JOEL
No scandal, Pop. It’s only money: Who steals my purse steals trash.
MARTIN
We do not sneeze at fifty dollars in this house. Where’s that from: the Bible? (suspiciously) What do you want it for?
JOEL
What for?
MARTIN
Are you deaf? Yes. What for.
JOEL
Well, I could tell you to buy some ski boots, but that would be a lie. Or I could tell you to pay off a debt, but that too would be a lie. Or I could tell you to impress a broad, but that would be the biggest lie of all. Do you want me to lie, Pop?
MARTIN
Cut the funny business and tell me what for.
JOEL
Gee, Pop, can’t we leave it a secret? Can’t we respect the dark side of life?
MARTIN
(doubletake)
What?
JOEL
Well just think, Pop, there’s a lot of trouble you can get into for fifty dollars. And if it’s for something deepdown bad, I’m better off not saying, aren’t I? You’d just read me the riot act and refuse to give me the money. And it can’t be for anything good can it, because then I’d tell you what it was. No secret is a good secret, is it? I mean only in wartime when you have to hide the troop movements from the enemy is a secret a good secret. And I’m not the enemy, am I, Pop.
MARTIN
No. You’re my son. I’d like to doubt it but I can’t. We don’t talk alike, we don’t think alike, we don’t look alike, but you are my son: You were conceived on my honeymoon
JOEL
So how about it? Do I get the fifty?
MARTIN
No. You get nothing. You know what you get? You get wise. You get wise and tell me what you want it for. Then we’ll see.
JOEL
(leaving)
Righty-O.
MARTIN
Righty-O. What a way to talk…. Forty-five thousand light fixtures…forty-five thousand light fixtures.
(sits on bed)
Martin! You’re coming unglued. You need help. Maybe you should go to a priest; no, no faith. to a shrink? With my bank balance? Hah! I’m better off going to the devil. Hey, now, there’s a thought: If I went to the devil first, I’d have enough money to go to the shrink, and when the shrink was through with me, I’d have enough faith to go to the priest, so then I could ask God to forgive me for going to the devil …
(gets up, gets his shirt out of the bureau)
How about it, sonny? Naw, it’s ridiculous. Anyhow, where do you begin? What do I know about calling up devils? Zero. Zilch. All I know is baseball and the electric light business. It’s not as simple as: hello how are you. You can’t dial the devil on the telephone.
(pause)
Say, that’s not a bad idea: you can dial the time the weather sex a prayer help why not dial a devil?
(The phone rings. MARTIN who has been talking to himself while he walks around buttoning his shirt stops, completely paralyzed. HE looks at the phone, which continues to ring until MARGIE answers in the hall. Pause.}
MARGIE’S VOICE
Martin, telephone.
MARTIN
(suspiciously)
Who is it?
MARGIE’S VOICE
I don’t know. I think he said Red or Fed, or something like that.
MARTIN
Oh, my God. Something to do with the Feds?
MARGIE’S VOICE
I don’t know, I told you. That’s all I heard.
MARTIN
OK. I’ll get it in here.
(picks up phone)
Hello?
FREDDIE’S VOICE
Is this Mr. Chance?
MARTIN
Yes.
FREDDIE’S VOICE
Mr. Martin Chance?
MARTIN
Yes, that’s right. Who is this?
FREDDIE’S VOICE
The devil.
MARTIN
I beg your pardon.
FREDDIE’S VOICE
Well, not actually The devil. A devil.
MARTIN
Is this a joke or something?
FREDDIE’S VOICE
(conciliatory)
If I’m mistaken please correct me. Didn’t you just say something about dial a devil?
MARTIN
(Lays the phone down. Looks at
it. Picks it up again.)
Yes.
FREDDIE’S VOICE
Well, here I am.
MARTIN
………………
FREDDIE’S VOICE
Hello, are you there?
MARTIN
(Lays the phone down again
and starts to pace: to himself)
I didn’t mean it.
FREDDIE’S VOICE
(from the receiver on the table)
Hello, hello!
MARTIN
(still pacing)
If you’re really the devil you don’t need a telephone.
(receiver goes dead; at the same moment the doorbell rings;
MARTIN goes to the phone)
Hello, hello!…It’s dead.
(HE breathes a sigh of relief and hangs up)
Close call.
MARGIE’S VOICE
(calling up)
Martin! Martin!
MARTIN
Yes?
MARGIE’S VOICE
(closer: at the foot of
the stairs)
There’s a man at the door asking for you.
MARTIN
(goes out the bedroom door; heard in the hall, from top and bottom of the stairs; semi-whispered)
What’s he look like?
MARGIE’S VOICE
I dunno. Short. Toupee. Mustache.
MARTIN
What’s his name?
MARGIE’S VOICE
He mumbled it. I couldn’t really hear. Something starting with F.
MARTIN
Not S?
MARGIE’S VOICE
No. F. Why?
MARTIN
Never mind. Tell him I’m not at home.
MARGIE’s VOICE
But I already said I’d get you.
MARTIN
Tell him you forgot. I’ve gone. I’m sick. I don’t receive callers before ten o’clock in the morning. I don’t care what you tell him. Tell him to go to hell. Oh, my God no. Don’t tell him that. Just get rid of him for me. OK?
MARGIE’S VOICE
OK.
(MARTIN returns to bedroom, sits for a minute to collect himself, then goes to the bureau to look in the mirror while he knots the necktie that is hanging around his collar. While his back is turned a pair of legs swings over the window sill. MARTIN starts to alternately whistle and hum in the mirror, to keep up his spirits. The legs are followed by a torso and face, then the arms as the figure lowers itself from above through the window unto the floor. Its face is level with the mirror, but is not reflected in it. MARTIN continues with his tuneless humming. The figure brushes itself off. MARTIN turns, and stops, petrified with surprise.)
FREDDIE
Hello.
MARTIN
…………….
FREDDIE
I said hello. Didn’t you hear me?
MARTIN
…………….
FREDDIE
What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?
MARTIN
Go away.
FREDDIE
Discourteous, that’s what you are. Usually when people say hello they get an answer. The other person says Hello back.
MARTIN
All right. Hello. Goodbye. Please? Goodbye?
FREDDIE
Nice room.
MARTIN
(automatically)
Thank you.
(waits; then, very fast, almost
on one breath)
You don’t want me I made a mistake I don’t really – sorry if it “sounds rude – want you I love my wife so she likes this guy di motta that’s our neighbor the goddam sunofa –
(gasps and controls self)
he’s a ringer for the president, she’s a sucker for glamor she’ll get over it my kids are good kids Kitty acts like a tramp and Joel is a smartass but it doesn’t matter they’re young that’s the way young people are they don’t know who they are so they want to be somebody else they think life is made for personal happiness how can I blame them wasn’t I the same –
FREDDIE
I really don’t know what you’re going on about. You’d think I didn’t have your best interests at heart.
MARTIN
Who are you anyhow? Who the hell are you?
(claps his hand over his mouth)
I didn’t mean to say that.
FREDDIE
Good question. I’m glad you got around to it.
FREDDIE: Patter with sketchy softshoe
I’m a dippy little devil
just a harmless balding bloke
I invent some small diversions
while the Big Boys go for broke
I don’t have leather skin
or a whiplike tail to lash
my teeth aren’t dripping fangs
my eyeballs do not flash
I’m just a dippy little devil
with a toupee and moustache.
My ears don’t end in points
No cleft divides my toes
My fingernails don’t curl
No fire lights my nose
I’m just a dippy little devil
in a checkered suit of clothes
In a very big wheel
I’m a very little spoke
For the movers and shakers
who live at the hub
there’s Mammon and Moloch and Beelze-bub
These are ruthless devils
As quick as a flash
they can turn decent folk
into catsup and hash –
But me – I hardly count:
Where there’s fire, I’m the smoke
I’m just a dippy little devil
named Freddie – it’s a joke.
(HE sits in the chair, looking very morose, and grabbing the nearest thing to hand, wipes the sweat off his forehead)
HARRY
Hey, you leave that alone. That’s my wife’s sweater. She’s been looking for it all morning.
FREDDIE
What? Sorry! It’s hot in here. Take it. It’s yours.
(MARTIN is about to take the sweater when MARGIE comes back into the room. He throws it over FREDDIE’s head instead, at the same time trying to block her view of the chair by standing in front of it.)
MARGIE
I forgot to tell you … Martin, what are you doing?
MARTIN
(trying to justify his peculiar movement)
Oh, nothing! A new type of exercise.
(HE leans to left and right, making up an absurd routine)
Something I saw on television.
MARGIE
Oh, that’s where it is!
(goes toward the chair)
MARTIN
(trying to keep her back)
No. Stop. Don’t.
(HE grabs her arm.)
MARGIE
(calm, steely voice)
Martin, what do you think you are doing? Let me go.
MARTIN
(Realizes she can’t see FREDDIE)
Sorry, hon, it’s just that….
MARGIE
(Taking the sweater off FREDDIE’S head)
It was here all the time.
MARTIN
(stupidly)
It was here all the time.
MARGIE
What’s that funny smell?
MARTIN
Funny smell?
MARGIE
Yes. Like hair oil…
(laughs )
Maybe that’s what blue smells like.
(takes a letter out of the pocket)
I meant to give you this yesterday. I put it in my pocket and then forgot about it when I changed to go out. It looks like something from the IRS.
(SHE throws the sweater across her shoulders and starts to hand him the letter. As he reaches for it, she reacts coyly. There is a little pantomime with him reaching, her withdrawing)
Say please!
MARTIN
Oh, for God’s sake…. Give me the letter.
MARGIE
Not unless you say please.
MARTIN
Please.
MARGIE
(little girl)
No, you’ve got to mean it. You have to say please and mean it. Otherwise, no letter.
(SHE turns airily and goes to the bureau, humming audibly)
MARTIN
This isn’t like you.
MARGIE
(SHE smiles in mirror and
fluffs her hair)
It’s the new me.
MARTIN
What’s wrong with the old one?
MARGIE
(sprays perfume, blows
herself a kiss)
Oh, that dull…. frump.
MARTIN
C’mon, Margie. Give me that letter.
MARGIE
(turning, holding it up high)
Kneel. I want you to kneel.
MARTIN
For God’s sake, Margie.
(HE lunges, she steps back, dancing.)
MARGIE
You have to kneel and ask my forgiveness.
MARTIN
Forgiveness! Forgiveness for what?
MARGIE
(surge of violent anger)
For acting like a jealous boob!
FREDDIE
Tch … tch… tch …
MARTIN
(to FREDDIE)
Shut up! You shut up!
MARGIE
I will not shut up! I’ll say whatever I damn please. Is there free speech in this country or is there not free speech in this country?
(SHE falls back in the chair, just as FREDDIE vacates it, giggling elplessly)
Poor Martin, poor jealous boob!
(SHE opens the letter)
Let’s see what the IRS is writing to our boob!
(MARTIN lunges again and succeeds in grabbing the letter. At the same time the sweater slips off her back and falls on the floor. HE walks away scanning the letter. SHE sits in silence. After a moment, bewildered.)
Why did I come in here? What did I want?
(MARTIN goes on reading.)
Oh, that’s right. I wanted to give you that letter. Is it anything bad?
MARTIN
What do you care? I’m just a poor jealous boob. If it’s bad, I must deserve it.
MARGIE
Martin, I’m your wife. Of course I care. And don’t talk about yourself that way. It gives me the creeps.
MARTIN
You can tell me that with a straight face? You said it yourself. You just finished saying it.
MARGIE
Said what?
MARTIN
You called me a boob. Those were your words: you poor jealous boob.
MARGIE
(getting up)
I said no such thing. I’d never say something like that… You know me better than that.
MARTIN
But you’d think it.
MARGIE
You’re the one who said it. So you must be the one who thought it. When you’ve returned to your senses, breakfast is on the table.
(SHE exits.)
MARTIN
(to FREDDIE)
I suppose I have you to thank for this charming interlude: Entertaining yourself at my expense!
FREDDIE
(inadvertently kicking sweater under chair)
Not at all. That would be an act of unkindness. I am not unkind. My feelings toward you are the friendliest.
MARTIN
(looking at the letter again)
Oh yes. I’m a jealous boob. What a friendly thing to make my wife say to me.
FREDDIE
You heard her. You’re the one who said it.
MARTIN
(absorbed in letter)
Uh huh.
FREDDIE
Come now, you have to admit, it’s what you’ve been thinking all morning….
MARTIN
(still reading)
Mind your own business.
FREDDIE
I always mind my own business … not very good news, is it?
MARTIN
If it makes you any happier, no, it’s not.
FREDDIE
Five thousand dollars…
MARTIN
Uh huh.
FREDDIE
That’s a lot of money.
MARTIN
Uh huh.
FREDDIE
And you’re not in very good financial shape.
MARTIN
Un uh.
FREDDIE
That contract you lost to Jimco Electric almost knocked you out.
MARTIN
Uh huh.
FREDDIE
You were counting on it.
MARTIN
Uh huh.
FREDDIE
And you’re late on the mortgage.
MARTIN
Uh huh.
FREDDIE
And the car insurance.
MARTIN
Uh huh.
FREDDIE
And life insurance.
MARTIN
Uh huh.
FREDDIE
And health insurance.
MARTIN
Uh huh.
FREDDIE
And homeowner’s.
MARTIN
Uh huh.
FREDDIE
And you don’t know what to do.
MARTIN
Un unh.
FREDDIE
And your wife has the hots for your neighbor and your son is in shit and your daughter –
MARTIN
You leave my daughter out of this!
FREDDIE
I could help you out.
MARTIN
No.
(pause; then quickly)
How much would it cost?
FREDDIE
Now you’re talking turkey.
MARTIN
Stop stalling. How much?
FREDDIE
Oh, hardly anything.
MARTIN
My soul. That’s what you want. You want me to sell my soul for five thousand dollars. Well, I’m not going to do it. It’s worth more than that.
FREDDIE
How utterly absurd. I never thought of such a thing. I don’t want your soul.
MARTIN
You don’t?
FREDDIE
Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of it. A dingy little soul like yours? They’d laugh at me.
MARTIN
Hey, what is this? My soul is as good as the next man’s.
FREDDIE
Oh, no. I think you overrate yourself.
MARTIN
Look here, buddy, I’m not president or a CEO, I’m just your average Joe. But this is America. In America we believe in equality. Everyone’s soul is equal. It’s even written into this country’s constitution. All men are created equal. What do you think that means?
FREDDIE
I’ve never thought about it. Men – and women – are more or less the same everywhere, with or without constitutions. But just for the sake of argument, what would you say your soul was worth?
MARTIN
Well, I don’t know. In monetary terms I don’t know. But it’s worth more than a measly five thousand dollars. We’re talking souls here; we’re not talking kilowatts. It’s worth at least as much as that guy’s who weighs himself in gold.
FREDDIE
And how much do you think Albert Schweitzer’s soul is worth?
MARTIN
What?
FREDDIE
Well, you know. Do you think your soul is worth as much as his?
MARTIN
Don’t be silly. Albert Schweitzer is close to God. I’m not. If I were, you wouldn’t even be here.
FREDDIE
Didn’t I just hear you say souls were equal?
MARTIN
Well, I mean when they start out. Along the way, I guess some become more valuable than others. I guess it depends on what you do with it as you go along.
FREDDIE
What makes you think you have a soul at all?
MARTIN
(scandalized)
Well, of course I do.
FREDDIE
Show it to me.
MARTIN
What?
FREDDIE
Let me see it.
MARTIN
It’s invisible. You know that.
FREDDIE
So what do you want me to do? Buy a pig in a poke?
MARTIN
But you’re a devil. You can see the inner man.
FREDDIE
Oh, come on. Who do you think I am? Clark Kent?
MARTIN
Then what are you here for? What do you want?
FREDDIE
Your body.
MARTIN
My body!
FREDDIE
Yes, that’s right. Your body.
MARTIN
You want bodies, you go to Charlie di Motta. There’s your body man. There’s your hunk. A dead ringer for JFK. He lives next door, right across the fence, he’ll be happy to see you any time. You have my word for it.
FREDDIE
I don’t want Charlie di Motta’s body. I want yours.
MARTIN
What’s so special about mine?
FREDDIE
Nothing. That’s why I want it. And I’ll give it back.
MARTIN
You’ll give it back?
FREDDIE
Yes. I only want to borrow it. For a very short while. A couple of hours at most.
MARTIN
Borrow it?…. What for?
FREDDIE
Nothing so dark and devious as you’re thinking. All it’s going to do is occupy space.
MARTIN
Occupy space?
FREDDIE
Yes. I’m afraid I can’t reveal the details. I don’t even know them myself. There’s always an element of improvisation in my line of work: spread a little confusion, add to the chaos. Nothing worse than that. These are the minor leagues you know.
MARTIN
(after some thought)
What happens to my soul while my body’s …. away?
FREDDIE
I wish you’d stop going on about your soul. It really is tiresome. Souls went out with Darwin, they went out in the nineteenth century, along with debtors’ prisons and puerperal fever.
MARTIN
Yes, but now we have the IRS and lung cancer. You call that an improvement? You go to jail for debt or tax evasion, what’s the difference? You die of puer- some kind of fever or lung cancer, what’s the difference?
FREDDIE
I didn’t say anything about progress, I just pointed out that times have changed, and if you want to keep up with the times, you picture man as a complex machine made up of atoms. And I want to borrow your machine.
MARTIN
And what if this machine comes back missing…some critical part?
FREDDIE
It won’t. It will be returned in exactly the same condition, critical parts and all. As far as you’re concerned, it will be as if nothing had happened. You have my word.
MARTIN
The word of the Father of Lies? You must be joking.
FREDDIE
(different tone, to self)
The honor is not mine.
(normal)
Look, if you don’t believe me, we can do it the old-fashioned way: I give you a promissory note that says your body is on loan for a few hours and will be returned without depreciation. We can even sign it in blood.
MARTIN
You mean as if it never happened?
FREDDIE
Almost.
MARTIN
With what difference?
FREDDIE
None. Negligible. You may have a brief period of readjustment. But you won’t even feel it. It will be as if it never happened.
MARTIN
I see … And what do I get in return? I’m not a philosopher or a womanizer. Beautiful women and life’s meanng aren’t in my line.
FREDDIE
What would you say to old-fashioned money?
MARTIN
Uh uh.
FREDDIE
I’m not talking peanuts, here. I’m talking big money.
MARTIN
Uh uh.
FREDDIE
OK. I’ll take it a step further. Power. Real, honest-to-Blazes power. When you sneeze, the world says Gesundheit.
MARTIN
No, I’d be embarrassed. A big shot? Me? I’d be ridiculous. I’ve got to think about my dignity here. No, I think not.
FREDDIE
All right. Write your ticket. What do you want?
MARTIN
I want to sleep soundly. And when I wake up, I want to welcome the new day. Without pills. Without drugs.
FREDDIE
(off balance)
Uh…. would you say that again, please.
MARTIN
That’s what I want. I want sound sleep and a cheerful disposition. Peace of mind. That’s what it adds up to. I want peace of mind.
FREDDIE
(worried)
That might be a little harder.
MARTIN
Sorry, Bub. That’s what I want: peace of mind.
FREDDIE
It’s rather unconventional.
MARTIN
If you want to play by the rules, take my soul.
FREDDIE
It might set a precedent.
MARTIN
Good. Make me a role model.
FREDDIE
(Gets up, walks around a bit; winds up staring out the window)
I’ll have to consult my superiors.
MARTIN
You go ahead and do that.
(knock on the door)
KITTY’s VOICE
May I come in, Pop?
MARTIN
NO!
(HE runs to the door ready to keep it from opening with his body.}
KITTY
Just for a second, Pop. I just want to get something.
MARTIN
(Turns back to look at FREDDIE, who has vanished out the window.)
All right.
KITTY
(She stops as she comes in)
It smells funny in here.
MARTIN
It does?
KITTY
Yeah. Sort of like hair oil.
MARTIN
All I smell is your mother’s perfume.
KITTY
Shit!
MARTIN
You watch your language, young lady. You keep that up and I’m going to wash your mouth out. I mean it. You may be sixteen but you’re not too old to be taught a lesson.
KITTY
She said it was on the chair, but it’s not.
MARTIN
What?
KITTY
Her blue sweater. I wanted to borrow it.
MARTIN
I think she wore it.
KITTY
She couldn’t have. She said I could take it.
MARTIN
I’m sure I saw her with it just before she left.
(KITTY goes to rummage in the walk in closet. As SHE opens the closet door, FREDDIE walks past her into the room. MARTIN gasps. KITTY turns to look at him.)
KITTY
What’s wrong with you, Pop?
MARTIN
Nothing.
KITTY
(approaches, missing FREDDIE
by a hair)
Are you sure? You look sort of sick.
MARTIN
No, no. I’m fine. Come on, honey, let me finish dressing.
KITTY
(looking at him skeptically)
You’re dressed.
MARTIN
What? Oh, yes, so I am. I just meant can you leave me alone, please. I have to think about something.
KITTY
(long look; she turns and leaves)
Anything you say, Pop.
FREDDIE
Pretty girl.
MARTIN
You leave my daughter alone.
FREDDIE
Too bad she dresses like a tart.
MARTIN
Goddammit. I said you leave my daughter alone!
FREDDIE
Please don’t swear. It’s bad for your blood pressure.
MARTIN
(Long silence: finally)
Well?
FREDDIE
It’s a deal.
MARTIN
Peace of mind?
FREDDIE
Absolutely.
MARTIN
No strings?
FREDDIE
None at all.
MARTIN
Signed and sealed in blood?
FREDDIE
Not necessary.
MARTIN
Isn’t there some formality?
FREDDIE
We shake hands.
MARTIN
That’s all?
FREDDIE
That’s all.
MARTIN
Ok, then. Here goes.
(looking up at the ceiling)
For the record, You Up There: I’m lending Freddie my balls for a limited use. In return I’m getting peace of mind. I’m not asking for power or money or women or the secrets of the universe or anything I don’t deserve. I’m not asking for anything I’m not supposed to have anyhow. So please don’t turn up later and say: “Martin, you went over to the Enemy.” …. Ok, Freddie, here goes: I’m yours for an hour or two….
(HE extends his hand, they shake. MARTIN checks himself out, wiggling his hands and toes, wrinkling his nose, etc.)
I don’t feel any different.
FREDDIE
Why should you?
MARTIN
Well, you know…. you perspire a lot, don’t you? No offense.
FREDDIE
(takes out handkerchief and
wipes sweat off)
Yes, it’s one of my failings.
MARTIN
Now what?
FREDDIE
Nothing.
MARTIN
But I thought you wanted me for something.
FREDDIE
I do.
MARTIN
So what do I do?
FREDDIE
Nothing.
(HE turns and leaves through the door, whistling. MARTIN stares after him, then goes to the mirror and looks at himself.)
MARTIN
I don’t look any different. I don’t feel any different. Maybe I dreamed it. Oh, well.
(HE starts humming a nondescript tune and turns to leave; as HE does, HE trips over the blue sweater)
Goodness gracious, someone should put this thing away. It’s a hazard.
(HE is about to pick it up
when KITTY comes back in.)
KITTY
Finished dressing, Pop?
MARTIN
What an odd question. Of course I’ve finished dressing. Talking of dressing, that’s a very becoming outfit you have on. Well, so long. See you this evening.
KITTY
(Shaking her head, watching him go)
Weird …
(Turning back)
I still don’t see it. …
(SHE goes back into closet. JOEL comes
in, starts looking systematically
through his mother’s pocketbooks
on the bureau, finds some money in one,
counts it, pockets it; collects some
money from under the bureauscarf, shakes
a piggy bank etc. Drags a chair over
in front of the television, takes out
a pack of cigarettes, lights up, and
picks up the remote control. KITTY walks
out of the closet.)
I saw that.
JOEL
(jumps)
What in hell are you doing in here?
KITTY
Looking for a sweater. I saw you steal mother’s money.
JOEL
What are you going to do? Snitch?
KITTY
Maybe I will maybe I won’t.
JOEL
Sadist.
KITTY
You must be pretty desperate. I wonder what could make you stoop so low. Lust? Envy? Greed?
JOEL
Oh, get off my case.
KITTY
I’ll get off yours if you get off mine.
JOEL
OK, it’s a deal. Not a word about Charlie di Motta.
KITTY
What do you know about Charlie di Motta?
JOEL
I know plenty. I know you’ve got the hots for him. And I know he’s got the hots for Mom. And I know Pop is clueless.
KITTY
He’s got the hots for Mom? I don’t believe you.
JOEL
Keep your eyes open, Babe.
KITTY
You’re making it up to spite me.
JOEL
Yeah, sure.
KITTY
(beat)
You skipping school today?
JOEL
What’s it to you?
KITTY
You know, Sally Bangs is a liar. I’d watch out for her if I were you.
JOEL
What do you mean?
KITTY
Nothing. Just that she lies a lot. I wouldn’t trust her.
JOEL
For instance.
KITTY
(as if debating something; then)
She told Mary Jane Cableshot you tried to make her on the kitchen table.
JOEL
(bursts out laughing)
That was wishful thinking, not a lie. I said I’d fuck her anytime, anywhere, stand up in the broomcloset or lie down on the kitchen table, she had me by the balls.
KITTY
Why are you so vulgar?
JOEL
Well, I didn’t really intend it for domestic consumption.
KITTY
Me Tarzan, you Jane.
JOEL
(beat)
Charlie di Motta’s too old for you. And he’s a sleaze ball. Believe me, he’s the center of sleaze.
KITTY
(beat)
What do you want the money for?
JOEL
Nothing special.
KITTY
C’mon. You’re not a juvenile delinquent.
JOEL
So it’s OK to steal in a good cause?
KITTY
Why don’t you trust me for a change? Maybe I could help you.
JOEL
I’m in hot water.
KITTY
How hot is hot?
JOEL
No details, kiddo. I’ve already said enough.
KITTY
You might do worse than trust your little sister.
JOEL
(beat)
You wanna watch TV with me?
KITTY
Why don’t you go downstairs?
JOEL
Set’s busted.
KITTY
Oh, there it is!
JOEL
What?
KITTY
Mom’s blue sweater.
JOEL
Shit. I thought you’d found an honest man.
KITTY
I’ve been looking for it all morning.
JOEL
(again)
You wanna look at television?
KITTY
Do I want to look at television? No. No way. Vicarious living is not my style. I’ve got my own fish to fry.
(Sudden burst of power, mood changes, sparks fly: SHE has just picked up the sweater.)
To hell with the damned TV!
(starts to kick it violently).
I wanna live and love. If heaven’s out of reach I’ll dance with the devils on the kitchen stove.
(SHE kicks the TV set viciously before turning to go, inadvertently snagging the sweater on it, which remains behind. JOEL groans and calls after her.)
JOEL
My God, you’re destructive. I bet you’ve broken the damn thing.
(HE rattles and shakes the set, fooling with the knobs. There is some static, then suddenly it explodes into sound. HE watches in astonishment as FREDDIE and MARTIN appear on the screen and he hears FREDDIE say: “Good question. I’m glad you got around to it,” and launch into his song. He is looking hypnotically at the black and white picture as the CURTAIN falls.)
Scene ii
(A few hours later. MARGIE is sitting on the bed watching TV. The TV voice is only sufficiently audible to pick up a tone of earnestness and underlying excitement. MARGIE has been crying. She has a handkerchief crumpled in her hand and a box of Kleenex is sitting beside her.)
MARTIN’s VOICE
Margie! Margie! Where are you, honey?
MARGIE
Up here, I’m upstairs watching TV.
MARTIN
(comes in humming, pleased with self. HE rubs his cheek now and then, as if it itched from an insect bite)
Have I got a surprise. Bet you can’t guess what it is. Guess.
MARGIE
Oh Martin! Thank God! You’re home! Put your arms around me. Hold me. Just hold me.
MARTIN
Hey, hey, what’s the matter, honey?
MARGIE
Isn’t it awful? I can’t get over it. I don’t believe it. I can’t take it in.
MARTIN
What is it, honey? Take it easy. It can’t be that bad.
MARGIE
You mean you haven’t heard?
MARTIN
Heard? Heard what?
MARGIE
Kennedy. President Kennedy.
MARTIN
President Kennedy? Handsome fellow. What’s he been up to? Cheating on Jackie?
MARGIE
Martin, for God’s sake, be serious. This is real. It’s important. He’s dead. President Kennedy is dead. He was shot in Texas. With a real gun. Real bullets. Somebody shot him.
MARTIN
Well, that’s too bad. I’m sorry to hear it.
MARGIE
That’s all?
MARTIN
That’s all what?
MARGIE
That’s all you’ve got to say?
MARTIN
Well, I don’t know what else I can say. He was pretty young to get killed. but it’s a risk that every president takes. Lincoln was shot and he did a lot more for civil rights than Kennedy.
MARGIE
My God! Don’t you even want to know who shot him?
MARTIN
Who shot him?
MARGIE
They don’t know.
MARTIN
You see? The question is premature. Anyhow, I want to show you something. Have I got a surprise for you.
(brandishes gift box)
Guess what’s in the box.
MARGIE
Martin, are you out of your Mother-F gourd?
MARTIN
Marjorie, what’s wrong with you? You never swear.
MARGIE
(overlap)
The president of the country is shot, the best president we’ve had in a lifetime, the man we’ve all pinned our hopes on, is murdered, and all you can do is say: Guess what’s in the box. I don’t give a damn what’s in the box.
MARTIN
Honey, come on. I’m sorry. I really don’t understand what you’re so upset about. It’s not as if it were someone we knew. It’s not a relative or a friend or the fellow next door. It’s a guy you never met or touched or saw. If there weren’t any pictures of him you wouldn’t even know what he looked like. Suppose it was Napoleon who had been killed. Would you feel so bad? Why not think of him as Napoleon.
MARGIE
Martin, this is not Napoleon. This is John F. Kennedy. This is the man who said “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” What in the name of God has that got to do with Napoleon? Are you stark raving mad?
MARTIN
I’m sorry, honey. I just thought it might help if you took the long-range view. Sometimes the long-range view is helpful.
MARGIE
Oh, for God’s sake. A lot of help you are. Why don’t you leave? Where were you anyhow? The office never answered and you skipped out before breakfast.
MARTIN
If it’ll make you happier, fine. I’ll run along. I want to look into golf lessons. I’ve always wanted to play golf. I bet you never knew that.
MARGIE
Oh, leave. Just get out of here.
MARTIN
You’re not yourself. I understand. You’re upset and nervous. You’ve had a hard day. It’s that time of the month. By dinnertime you’ll be fit as a fiddle.
(HE exits humming)
MARGIE
Golf! Who is this man? Where did he come from? He’s not Martin. He’s Martin’s clone!
(SHE goes back to the TV set. Kneels down and switches through different stations, returns to the one she was watching)
NARRATOR
Word has just been received that ……
CHARLIE’S VOICE
(calling up)
Hello! Hello! Margie! Is anyone home?
MARGIE
Charlie?… Is that you?
CHARLIE
Margie? Martin said you were up there.
MARGIE
(overlap)
Come on up. I’m upstairs. The TV is busted down there. Isn’t it terrible?
CHARLIE
(overlap)
Isn’t it terrible?
MARGIE
Am I glad to see you. Come in and sit down.
CHARLIE
I can hardly believe it.
MARGIE
(overlap)
I can hardly believe it. I can hardly take it in.
CHARLIE
I know. It’s incredible. Such a terrible thing.
MARGIE
(overlap)
Such a terrible thing. Sit down. Have a seat.
(SHE waves toward chair. CHARLIE
sits on the edge of the bed.)
CHARLIE
Is there anything new?
MARGIE
I don’t think so. They’re swearing in Johnson.
CHARLIE
It’s so awful. It makes me feel as if I’d lost my job or my best friend. Only it’s somehow worse. Texas! My God, the lunatic fringe. Texas and California take the cake.
MARGIE
He was so young. He was so promising. He was going to change things. It made you proud to be American. Oh, my God, why did it have to happen? Why him? Why not Connally? Why didn’t they miss?
(bursts out sobbing)
CHARLIE
There, there. I know just how you feel. I feel exactly the same way. He had everything: youth, looks, brains, energy, there was a real dynamic at work there, come on, here let me help you.
(Pulls a Kleenex out of the box as SHE pulls a Kleenex out. Their hands touch, HE holds her hand and starts to kiss it.)
Now now it will be all right. I’m sure it will. Johnson will make a good president and…
(HE shifts so that his arm goes around her and pulls her over on the bed)
in the end it may even turn out for the best who knows you never can tell life is incomprehensible in its twists and turns my God you smell good you smell wonderful your skin is like velvet where did you get such skin my God baby are you beautiful …
(HE kisses her deeply, SHE returns his kiss, they collapse on the bed
and start to take off their clothes. They are all but naked in a tight embrace as KITTY appears on the threshold and gasps. THEY don’t hear her. SHE goes over to the TV set and turns up the volume.)
TV VOICE:
We’ll be back after the break to report new developments as the nation waits in shock and dismay.
(No reaction. SHE turns off the TV. MARGIE stiffens.)
CHARLIE
What’s wrong?
KITTY
(aggressive chant, marching
back and forth; drum majorette)
Shock and dismay! All of the way! Shock and dismay! All of the way! Shock and dismay! All of the way!
MARGIE
(reaching for brassiere, dresses throughout the scene)
Kitty, stop it! Go downstairs. I’ll talk to you later.
KITTY
(erupting)
You vile, lewd, base two-timing –
MARGIE
This is not your business. Go! Now!
KITTY
(hurling herself at CHARLIE)
– scumbag!
CHARLIE
(fending her off)
Now now, honey. Don’t jump to conclusions.
KITTY
Don’t touch me!
(SHE grabs a pillow and starts to beat him.)
MARGIE
Kitty, stop it! You’re hysterical. What are you doing?
(SHE grabs the pillow at the other end and they have a tug of war; CHARLIE is in his briefs, drawing on his trousers. As he picks up his shirt and heads toward the door KITTY drops the pillow and MARJORIE tumbles backward on the bed. KITTY
runs to block the door.)
KITTY
You – you – Mother fucker!
MARGIE
Kitty! Don’t! It wasn’t his fault. It was mine. It would never have happened if –
KITTY
(sobbing)
I hate you! I hate you both!
CHARLIE
(looking for his shoes)
Now girls, take it easy. You’re overwrought. You’re both overwrought because of the president….
KITTY
Overwrought! How dare you! How dare …
(SHE picks up his missing shoe and throws it at him; HE ducks. It flies out the window. She picks up the other and throws it. HE ducks.)
MARGIE
Charlie, do me a favor: Go. Please –
(the shoe hits her, she falls back)
Owwwwwwwww!
CHARLIE
(going to window to see where his shoe lands)
Sure, honey. I just want to …
KITTY
(running to her mother)
Mom! Mom! Are you all right? I’m sorry – I didn’t mean – he’s an animal! Don’t you understand?
MARGIE
Kitty, honey, we’re all animals.
KITTY
He was after me all summer. In the end, I gave in. It was the first time. Ever. And then I couldn’t help myself. I used to sneak out of the house. And he turns around and – I shouldn’t be telling you this…. It’s shameful. I’m so ashamed. I wish I could hide in my skin.
MARGIE
(to Charlie)
Is this true?
CHARLIE
(spreads his hands, shrugs)
MY BODY NEVER LIES: Hillbilly
Casanova move ova
Don Giovanni step aside
make way for di Motta
whose lovemaking motta
is: Never leave a lady unsatisfied
(to KITTY)
Why should I apologize
when every word I said to you was true?
If I say I love your freckles and your elbows and your eyes
it’s my body does the talking
and my body never lies
I’m a lover I’m a leaver
I’m an orthodox believer
in the hunger of the flesh
in the heat of the blood
You can call me a seducer
You can say my name is mud
But consider in my favor
I have never been a dud!
(to MARGIE)
Why should I apologize
when every word I said to you was true
If I say I love your dimples and your shoulders and
your thighs
it’s my body does the talking
and my body never lies
‘Cause the difference ain’t a lotta
twixt the mother and the dotta
to the hunger in the flesh
and the heat in the blood
You can call me a deceiver
or a satyr, but hey, Bud!
just consider in my favor:
I’m a record-breaking stud!
(The women look at him nonplussed as a VOICE calls:)
JOEL
Pop! Hey, Pop! Are you up there?
(arriving breathless on the threshold)
Where’s Pop? He’s not at the office, he’s not at home. I’ve got to find him before –
(taking in the half-dressed CHARLIE)
What’s going on here?
MARGIE
(to CHARLIE)
Why don’t you get lost?
KITTY
You heard the lady, get lost.
JOEL
Shall I throw him out?
CHARLIE
Hold on, fellow. Don’t go off half-cocked. I didn’t force my way in here. I was invited. I was cordially invited by all parties. I understand emotions are running high because of the tragedy that’s just occurred, but even so, you should show a little more respect for…
JOEL
(overlap) Tragedy? What’s he talking about?
CHARLIE
… the choices of your mother and sister –
MARGIE
(bursting into tears)
Oh my God, I’d almost forgotten.
JOEL
Mother! Mother!
(shakes her)
He’s all right, isn’t he? Is he all right?
MARGIE
(muffled sobs, collapsing on his shoulder)
He’s dead.
JOEL
Oh, dear God.
(Turns to KITTY for confirmation)
Is this true?
KITTY
Yes. It’s true. I was let out of school early because of it.
JOEL
(howling and kicking the furniture)
It didn’t have to happen! It didn’t have to happen! Why didn’t we stop it? Why 0 why 0 why 0 – we failed him. Failed failed failed –
CHARLIE
Hey, c’mon, fellow. It’s bad but it’s not that bad. It’s not your fault. There’s nothing you could have done.
JOEL
Oh, yes there is. I could have been less selfish and egoistical. I could have let him know how much I apppreciated and loved him. Now it’s too late.
MARGIE
My goodness, Joel. I had no idea you cared that much.
KITTY
Neither did I. I mean, I’m awful sorry and all, but it’s not as if it were someone I really loved.
JOEL
You heartless bitch.
KITTY
You take that back. Not everyone has to make a big drama out of it. Not everyone has to overreact.
JOEL
My God, what kind of a sister do I have? Little Miss Butter Wouldn’t Melt in Her Mouth. Little Miss Pure as the Driven Slush. You screw around with this jerk and you can’t even shed a tear for someone who matters.
KITTY
That’s low. That’s really low.
MARGIE
Joel, stop it. Don’t talk to your sister that way. You apologize.
KITTY
You randy bastard. You’re a fine one to talk: People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.
JOEL
And what is the dark meaning of that?
KITTY
How dare you accuse me, you … you…. thief. I saw you stealing from Mom. You went into her pocketbook. And that’s not the worst of it: You know damned well why you did it. And I know too. I have a good mind to tell Pop on you.
JOEL
It’s a little late for a threat like that, isn’t it? What are you going to do: call up his ghost?
KITTY
Are you nuts?
JOEL
Get a dead man to throw the book at me, huh?
KITTY
What?… Oh! Oh, no.
(starts to giggle)
You dumb cluck. Kennedy. Kennedy is dead. JFK. Not Pop. Kennedy.
JOEL
Kennedy?
KITTY
Yes, you dodo. Our president. He was assassinated. Some guy took a potshot at him in his limo and connected. It’s a national catastrophe. Didn’t you hear about it on television?
JOEL
Is this true?
MARGIE
Yes.
JOEL
Yippeeeee!
MARGIE
(slaps him)
You show some respect, young man. You just show some respect. And what’s this about stealing money from my pocketbook?
JOEL
(Mind elsewhere)
No. Wait. Wait a minute. He was assassinated? When? How long ago?
KITTY
About two hours ago.
JOEL
Then Pop ….that was after…. Who did it? Did they catch him? WHO WAS IT?
CHARLIE
My, you’re an excitable young man. They don’t know. They caught some guy in a movie house, but they don’t know who he is. He’s got a name, I mean, but they don’t know who put him up to it.
JOEL
Good. I mean, too bad. But it’s all right. Everything’s all right. Thank God.
MARTIN
(in the doorway, holding CHARLIE’S shoe; HE coughs modestly to draw attention to his presence)
Is this someone’s property?
JOEL
Pop! My God, am I glad to see you. I’ve been looking all over town for you. That bastard Freddie. I’ll kill him.
MARTIN
What are you talking about, Joel? Freddie was my best friend in college. Don’t you think of killing him. He called not three hours ago. Hasn’t been in touch for years. He’s just bought a hotel chain and wants me to handle all the electric installations. And that calls for a celebration. Margie, honey, if you miss the president, I’ve got the answer: I just bought the portrait of a guy who could be his twin brother. Wait till you see it! C’mon down, everyone, today is a redletter day!
JOEL
Oh, my God. It’s too late. I’m too late.
CHARLIE
(taking shoe and putting it on)
Well, I guess I’ll be running along.
MARTIN
Charlie, Charlie di Motta. Nice to see you, man. What brings you over? C’mon down and have a drink. C’mon down and see yourself framed in gilt!
KITTY JOEL & MARGIE
No!
MARTIN
Goodness, what’s the matter with you three?
JOEL
You don’t want to have anything to do with him, Pop.
MARTIN
Don’t want to have anything to do with Charlie? Why on earth not? Charlie’s my neighbor.
JOEL
That’s right. And…
(testing)
he covets his neighbor’s wife and daughter.
KITTY
Oh, Joel, for God’s sake. Do you have to? Do you have to make things worse? My God, what a stinker you are.
JOEL
Leave me alone, Kitty. Keep out of this. You don’t understand what’s at stake here.
KITTY
Oh, I don’t, do I? You bungling meddling interfering jerk, you…
MARGIE
Children, stop it. Stop it. You know your father can’t stand your squabbling. And I still want to know what this is about stealing from my pocketbook. And Joel, where have you been? Why weren’t you sent home from school with Kitty?
KITTY
Because he didn’t go to school. He was playing hookey, that’s why.
JOEL
Yeah, I was playing hookey, Pop.
MARTIN
Good for you. Now, if you’ll all come downstairs you can open your presents and tell me where to hang the Harry –
KITTY
What? What did you say, Pop?
MARTIN
I said I need advice on where to hang the Harry –
KITTY
No. No. About Joel playing hookey. What did you say?
MARTIN
I said good for him. It shows an independent spirit, something any parent can be proud of in a child.
JOEL
(with the bit between his
teeth)
And Charlie di Motta wants to get in your wife’s pants.
MARGIE
Joel!
MARTIN
Who would blame him? When a woman’s as pretty as Margie is she’s bound to attract the opposite sex.
(shaking his hand)
Congratulations, Charlie. You are a man of discrimination.
JOEL
And he’s already been in your daughter’s.
KITTY
Oh, Joel!
MARTIN
Well, you are a connoisseur, aren’t you? My Kitty is as pretty as they come. You’re a lucky man.
MARGIE
My God, Martin!
CHARLIE
(not understanding, but wanting
to go along to get out.)
Thank you, Martin. And you’re the best. And Margie’s the best. And Kitty’s the best. But I really do think I’ll be running along now. Tragic times these are. Better to share them in the privacy of your family. So long, man.
(HE exits)
KITTY
Did you hear what he said?
MARTIN
Well, of course, I did. He said you were tops and so was Margie and he’s absolutely right.
KITTY
No, Pop. Joel. Did you hear what Joel said?
MARGIE
Martin, have you had a lobotomy?
JOEL
And I’ve knocked up a girl and I stole from Mother to pay for the abortion. And I don’t even know if the baby is mine.
MARGIE
Joel!
MARTIN
(pulls out his wallet)
You should have asked me for help, Joel boy. These things happen to everyone. And how are you going to learn if you don’t make mistakes? I’m sure this will be a valuable lesson to you. How much do you need?
KITTY
(mind on something else)
Nothing. He needs nothing. She’s not pregnant. She put the touch on you. Put your wallet away, Pop.
JOEL
You’re lying.
KITTY
No, she is.
JOEL
How do you know?
KITTY
She told Mary Jane Cableshot who told me.
JOEL
Why didn’t you say so before?
KITTY
Because you’ve been such a pill, I thought, why not let him stew. Anyhow, I tried to and you didn’t trust me.
JOEL
My God, what a bitch! Both of you. Women take the cake for perfidy.
KITTY
(where she’s been all along)
Pop, did you hear what Joel said about me? Did you hear what Joel said about me and Charlie?
MARTIN
Well, of course I heard. I’m not deaf.
KITTY
I’m not a virgin, Pop. He said I’m not a virgin. Don’t you mind?
MARTIN
Mind? Why should I mind? Nobody’s going to hang sheets out the window the day after your wedding. This is America, in America there’s equality. You’re entitled to mistakes like anyone else. And if it didn’t work out, if you don’t like him anymore, I’m sorry. But you’ll find someone you do like by and by and it will be fine. You’ll settle down and get married and be the better for a little bit of experience.
MARGIE
And it’s fine by you if I make love to Charlie di Motta? It’s fine by you if I commit adultery?
MARTIN
Oh, Margie, honey, adultery is a big word. You don’t get stoned for it. Not in twentieth century America. I love you. I want you to be happy. If you fancy Charlie di Motta, you fancy Charlie di Motta. What do you expect me to do? Call the police? Honey, be reasonable. I know I’m not the sexiest guy in the world. I know I’m not Cary Grant. It’s human to err. I know that.
MARGIE
But I don’t want Cary Grant. I want you. Martin, where are you? What’s happened? Not six hours ago you were tearing up a storm because you thought I had a yen for Charlie.
JOEL
It’s too late. It’s too late. It’s too late. Oh, Lord, what are we going to do?
MARTIN
Was I? I don’t remember. C’mon, honey. All of you. You have to show me where to hang the painting. And then let’s all get dressed and go out to dinner. We’re going to celebrate.
KITTY
What’s to celebrate, Pop?
MARTIN
(beat, then}
Why, Johnson, of course. We have a new president.
MARGIE
Is this happening?
KITTY
Where is my father?
MARGIE
Where is my husband?
MARGIE and KITTY
(overlap) Where did my husband\father go?
JOEL
To the devil. He’s gone to the devil, and there’s not a damned
thing we can do about it.
End ACT I