Etiquette and Vitriol (18 page)

TOMMY:
I'd like to wear something simple with a—

ARTHUR
(To Tommy, hostile)
: Isn't it dinnertime?

TOMMY:
Excuse me.
(He exits)

ARTHUR
(Going to Emma)
: Let's plan the wedding!

EMMA
(Politely)
: Please don't touch me.

ARTHUR:
I think that's a good idea! It's okay with you, isn't it, Buzzboy?

TODD:
Todd.

GRACE:
I'll wear my black Donna Karan.

EMMA:
At my wedding?

GRACE:
It's very simple. A black column. Very Greek. Very tragic. Very Medea.

ARTHUR:
I don't think that's appropriate.

EMMA:
It's my wedding.

ARTHUR:
People will talk.

EMMA:
I wish I were dead.

GRACE:
I love planning a party!

ARTHUR:
Grace.

GRACE:
Or an affair.

EMMA
(To Todd)
: Can you breathe?

TODD:
Yes.

GRACE:
Emma, you wear that new black Romeo Gigli.

EMMA:
I thought I'd wear white.

ARTHUR:
And you'll look beautiful.

EMMA:
What do you mean by that?

GRACE:
How's “Oh, Promise Me”?

ARTHUR:
At Buzz's funeral?

TODD:
I'm not dying.

GRACE:
At Emma's wedding.

TODD:
Did you know all dinosaurs lived on land?

GRACE:
I thought that's what you wanted to plan.

TODD:
Pterodactyls, for instance, weren't dinosaurs. They lived in the sky. But they died just the same.

GRACE
(To Todd)
: Open casket?

ARTHUR:
Stay on one subject Grace.

GRACE
(Out)
: I love planning a party! The occasion is piffle.

EMMA:
The air is like halvah.

GRACE:
Remember the party I threw for the new lawn jockey?

EMMA:
Of course not.

ARTHUR:
Remember that, Buzz?

TODD:
Call me Todd.

ARTHUR:
Remember that?

GRACE:
I thought we might do something along those lines.

TODD:
At her wedding?

EMMA:
At his funeral?

ARTHUR:
Grace! No one knows what you're talking about!

GRACE:
Don't shout at me!

TODD:
Don't bully her!

ARTHUR:
Don't be fresh, Buzz.

TODD:
My name is Todd!

EMMA
(Extending her hand)
: My name is Emma. Have we met?

TODD
(To Emma, hostile)
: Christ!

ARTHUR:
It's all right, Emma.

EMMA
(Politely)
: Please don't touch me.

GRACE:
What about entertainment?

TODD:
I'll read poems by Brecht!

EMMA:
At my wedding?

GRACE:
Too downbeat.

TODD:
His comic poems.

GRACE:
I thought a sit-down dinner, on the lawn, under a tent.

TODD:
I like this one:

“I am dirt. From Myself

I can demand nothing but

Weakness, treachery and degradation.”

ARTHUR:
That's not comic. Not remotely.

GRACE:
I thought squab or salmon, or both with pearl onions!

TODD:
How about:

“With arsenic: I had

Tubes in my side with

Pus flowing night and day—”

EMMA:
Ick!

GRACE:
Emma, if you have a hundred can Tommy make due with a hundred?

TODD:
Should I continue?

GRACE, ARTHUR
and
EMMA:
No!

EMMA:
A hundred what?

GRACE:
Guests. People. Friends. Family.

EMMA:
Tommy has no family.

TODD:
Lucky.

EMMA:
And I have no friends.

TODD:
What about Alice Paulker?

EMMA:
Dead.

ARTHUR:
I cannot afford dinner for two hundred people!

GRACE:
How many weddings will you give?

EMMA:
I don't need a wedding.

GRACE:
Yes, you do.

EMMA:
I don't I don't I don't.

GRACE:
How many daughters do you have?

EMMA
(Panicked)
: Are there sisters I've repressed?

ARTHUR:
Who are these two hundred people?

GRACE:
There are the Beatons and the Litwhilers and the Hamners and the Seatons—

ARTHUR:
I loathe Nora Beaton!

GRACE:
You do not!

ARTHUR:
She's a Buddhist!

GRACE:
That's Cora Seaton!

EMMA:
Coricidin is a cold medication.

GRACE:
You like Nora Beaton.

EMMA:
My sinuses hurt.

GRACE:
You ought to. You slept with her.

ARTHUR:
Grace!

GRACE:
Think back. Eight years ago, Pearl Harbor day?

ARTHUR:
What are you talking about?

GRACE:
In the gardener's shed!

ARTHUR:
I have no idea—

GRACE:
I knew it! Everyone knew it!

TODD:
I never knew.

EMMA:
I might have known it.

GRACE:
No one cared!

EMMA
(Out)
: I would have repressed it.

GRACE:
I never cared.

ARTHUR:
Because you were drunk!

TODD:
Leave her alone.

ARTHUR:
Be quiet Buzz.

GRACE:
I don't get drunk!

ARTHUR:
You don't even know it!

TODD:
I said—

Arthur:
Buzz!

GRACE:
I've never been drunk!

ARTHUR:
You get drunk and you forget!!

TODD:
I said—

ARTHUR:
Be quiet Buzz!!

(Todd explodes in a rage which shocks the others.)

TODD:
MY NAME IS TODD!!!!!

GRACE:
My God—

TODD:
WHY CAN'T YOU CALL ME TODD!!!? WHY CAN'T YOU CALL ME BY MY NAME!!!?

ARTHUR:
It's a nickname—

TODD:
IT IS NOT!!!

GRACE:
Your father doesn't mean—

TODD:
IT IS SOMEONE ELSE'S NAME!! MY NAME IS TODD!!

EMMA:
Means “death” in German.

TODD:
BUZZ IS THE NAME OF AN ASTRONAUT! I DON'T KNOW ANYONE NAMED BUZZ OR BUZZY OR BUZZBOY!! MY NAME IS TODD!

ARTHUR:
You're overwrought—

GRACE:
MY SON IS DYING!!

TODD:
I AM NOT DYING!!

ARTHUR:
This can't be healthy—

GRACE:
I'M BEING PUNISHED! GOD IS PUNISHING ME!!

TODD:
I WILL NOT DIE! I WILL NOT! I WILL BE HERE FOREVER! WHEN YOU ARE DUST I WILL BE HERE! I WILL OUTLIVE THE TREES AND THE STARS AND THE SEAS AND THE PLANET! I AM DIRT AND FROM MYSELF I CAN DEMAND NOTHING! I AM THE AIR AND I WILL BE HERE WHEN THE AIR IS GONE! WHEN THE EARTH FALLS OUT OF ITS ORBIT I WILL GO ON! WHEN THE SEAS MERGE AND SWALLOW THE LAND I WILL GO ON! WHEN THERE IS NOTHING I WILL GO ON! I WILL GO ON I WILL GO ON I WILL GO ON I WILL GO ON I WILL GO ON!!!

(Tommy enters.)

TOMMY:
Dinner is served!

(Blackout. We hear a bright, too-cheery song such as “Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive.”)

A pool of light comes up on Grace, who addresses the audience
.

GRACE:
When Todd came home and told me what had happened to him, told me of his illness, I studied him. I watched him with the devotion of a Carmelite nun. I listened for any irregularity in my child's breathing. I scrutinized his diet. I made a job of noticing his weight, his mood and the way his clothes hung on him from one day to the next. Was he walking slower? Was his speech lethargic? Did he sleep enough? But . . . his gait was quick, his speech unchanged and he slept through the night.

(As she continues, a light rises on the dinosaur skeleton, upstage center. Now obviously a tyrannosaurus, more than half finished, it towers over the room.)

He devoted himself to his work. He was driven and I was glad, because it gave him a purpose. And I realized that my
concern might be interpreted, by him, as panic. I was afraid he would hate me for having no faith, when he had so much. And there, as a tribute to his will, stood my child's grotesque monument to the transience of everything. So with the frenzy of a dervish, I threw myself into other things.

(The lights come up, revealing Emma on the sofa, writing thank you notes and wearing a cocktail-length wedding dress. Gifts are scattered about. Through the French doors we see that it is autumn. Grace fiddles with the place cards.)

EMMA:
How do you spell “escargot”?

GRACE:
All the place cards are out of order.

EMMA:
You don't know how to spell escargot?

GRACE:
Thirty-two is man heavy.

EMMA:
What does that mean?

GRACE:
It's all men. How did that happen?

EMMA:
What difference does it make?

GRACE:
Good God, Emma. It makes all the difference—who on earth sent you snails?

EMMA:
Not snails, Mother. Forks. Escargot forks. Two dozen.

GRACE:
From whom?

EMMA:
Cousin Paul.

GRACE:
Typical. Never marries. Sends forks.

EMMA:
I like Cousin Paul. I think he's funny.

GRACE:
Oh he's funny all right.

EMMA
(Writing)
: “. . . Love, Emma.” Can I stop now?

GRACE:
How many have you done?

EMMA:
Forty-two. And I have writer's block.

GRACE
(Shuffling cards)
: You mean writer's cramp—If I put Louise at thirty-two, I can put David Comstock at eleven.

EMMA:
Can I change please?

GRACE:
Let me see the hem.

(As Emma rises, Tommy enters from outdoors.)

TOMMY:
Has anyone called for me?

EMMA:
Shut your eyes! Shut your eyes!

TOMMY:
Have they?

EMMA:
You're not supposed to see me before the wedding!

TOMMY:
I see you when I shut my eyes.

GRACE:
Isn't that sweet?