Happy Days (2 page)

[
Long pause.
]

 
WILLIE
It.

WINNIE
[
turning back front, joyful
] Oh you are going to talk to me today, this is going to be a happy day! [
Pause. Joy off.
] Another happy day. [
Pause.
] Ah well, where was I, my hair, yes, later on, I shall be thankful for it later on. [
Pause.
] I have my—[
raises hands to hat
]—yes, on, my hat on—[
lowers hands
]—I cannot take it off now. [
Pause.
] To think there are times one cannot take off one’s hat, not if one’s life were at stake. Times one cannot put it on, times one cannot take it off. [
Pause.
] How often I have said, Put on your hat now, Winnie, there is nothing else for it, take off your hat now,
Winnie, like a good girl, it will do you good, and did not. [
Pause.
] Could not. [
Pause. She raises hand, frees a strand of hair from under hat, draws it towards eye, squints at it, lets it go, hand down.
] Golden you called it, that day, when the last guest was gone—[
hand up in gesture of raising a glass
]—to your golden . . . may it never . . . [
voice breaks
] . . . may it never . . . [
Hand down. Head down. Pause. Low.
] That day. [
Pause. Do.
] What day? [
Pause. Head up. Normal voice.
] What now? [
Pause.
] Words fail, there are times when even they fail. [
Turning a little towards Willie.
] Is that not so, Willie? [
Pause. Turning a little further.
] Is not that so, Willie, that even words fail, at times? [
Pause. Back front.
] What is one to do then, until they come again? Brush and comb the hair, if it has not been done, or if there is some doubt, trim the nails if they are in need of trimming, these things tide one over. [
Pause.
] That is what I mean. [
Pause.
] That is all I mean. [
Pause.
] That is what I find so wonderful, that not a day goes by—[
smile
]—to speak in the old style—[
smile off
]—without some blessing—[
Willie collapses behind slope, his head disappears, Winnie turns towards event
]—in disguise. [
She cranes back and down.
] Go back into your
hole now, Willie, you’ve exposed yourself enough. [
Pause.
] Do as I say, Willie, don’t lie sprawling there in this hellish sun, go back into your hole. [
Pause.
] Go on now, Willie. [
Willie invisible starts crawling left towards hole.
] That’s the man. [
She follows his progress with her eyes.
] Not head first, stupid, how are you going to turn? [
Pause.
] That’s it . . . right round . . . now . . . back in. [
Pause.
] Oh I know it is not easy, dear, crawling backwards, but it is rewarding in the end. [
Pause.
] You have left your vaseline behind. [
She watches as he crawls back for vaseline.
] The lid! [
She watches as he crawls back towards hole. Irritated.
] Not head first, I tell you! [
Pause.
] More to the right. [
Pause.
] The
right,
I said. [
Pause. Irritated.
] Keep your tail down, can’t you! [
Pause.
] Now. [
Pause.
] There! [
All these directions loud. Now in her normal voice, still turned towards him.
] Can you hear me? [
Pause.
] I beseech you, Willie, just yes or no, can you hear me, just yes or nothing.

[
Pause.
]

 
WILLIE
Yes.

WINNIE
[
turning front, same voice
] And now?

 
WILLIE
[
irritated
] Yes.

WINNIE
[
less loud
] And now?

 
WILLIE
[
more irritated
] Yes.

WINNIE
[
still less loud
] And now? [
A little louder.
] And now?

 
WILLIE
[
violently
] Yes!

WINNIE
[
same voice
] Fear no more the heat o’ the sun. [
Pause.
] Did you hear that?

 
WILLIE
[
irritated
] Yes.

WINNIE
[
same voice
] What? [
Pause.
] What?

 
WILLIE
[
more irritated
] Fear no more. [
Pause.
]

WINNIE
[
same voice
] No more what? [
Pause.
] Fear no more what?

 
WILLIE
[
violently
] Fear no more!

WINNIE
[
normal voice, gabbled
] Bless you Willie I do appreciate your goodness I know what an effort it costs you, now you may relax I shall not trouble you again unless I am obliged to, by that I mean unless I come to the end of my own resources which is most unlikely, just to know that in theory you can hear me even though in fact you don’t is all I need, just to feel you there within earshot and conceivably on the qui vive is all I ask, not to say anything I would not wish you to hear or liable to cause you pain, not to be just babbling away on trust as it is were not knowing and something gnawing at me. [
Pause for breath.
] Doubt. [
Places index and second finger on heart area, moves them about, brings them to rest.
] Here. [
Moves them slightly.
] Abouts. [
Hand away.
] Oh no doubt the time will come when before I can utter a word I must make sure you heard the one that went before and then no doubt another come another time when I must learn to talk to myself a thing I could never bear to do such wilderness. [
Pause.
] Or gaze before me with compressed lips. [
She does so.
] All day long. [
Gaze and
lips again.
] No. [
Smile.
] No no. [
Smile off.
] There is of course the bag. [
Turns towards it.
] There will always be the bag. [
Back front.
] Yes, I suppose so. [
Pause.
] Even when you are gone, Willie. [
She turns a little towards him.
] You
are
going, Willie, aren’t you? [
Pause. Louder.
] You
will
be going soon, Willie, won’t you? [
Pause. Louder.
] Willie! [
Pause. She cranes back and down to look at him.
] So you have taken off your straw, that is wise. [
Pause.
] You do look snug, I must say, with your chin on your hands and the old blue eyes like saucers in the shadows. [
Pause.
] Can you see me from there I wonder, I still wonder. [
Pause.
] No? [
Back front.
] Oh I know it does not follow when two are gathered together—[
faltering
]—in this way—[
normal
]—that because one sees the other the other sees the one, life has taught me that . . . too. [
Pause.
] Yes, life I suppose, there is no other word. [
She turns a little towards him.
] Could you see me, Willie, do you think, from where you are, if you were to raise your eyes in my direction? [
Turns a little further.
] Lift up your eyes to me, Willie, and tell me can you see me, do that for me, I’ll lean back as far as I can. [
Does so. Pause.
] No? [
Pause.
] Well never mind. [
Turns back painfully front.
] The earth is
very tight today, can it be I have put on flesh, I trust not. [
Pause. Absently, eyes lowered.
] The great heat possibly. [
Starts to pat and stroke ground.
] All things expanding, some more than others. [
Pause. Patting and stroking.
] Some less. [
Pause. Do.
] Oh I can well imagine what is passing through your mind, it is not enough to have to listen to the woman, now I must look at her as well. [
Pause. Do.
] Well it is very understandable. [
Pause. Do.
] Most understandable. [
Pause. Do.
] One does not appear to be asking a great deal, indeed at times it would seem hardly possible—[
voice breaks, falls to a murmur
]—to ask less—of a fellow-creature—to put it mildly—whereas actually—when you think about it—look into your heart—see the other—what he needs—peace—to be left in peace—then perhaps the moon—all this time—asking for the moon. [
Pause. Stroking hand suddenly still. Lively.
] Oh I say, what have we here? [
Bending head to ground, incredulous.
] Looks like life of some kind! [
Looks for spectacles, puts them on, bends closer. Pause.
] An emmet! [
Recoils. Shrill.
] Willie, an emmet, a live emmet! [
Seizes magnifying-glass, bends to ground again, inspects through glass.
] Where’s it gone? [
Inspects.
] Ah! [
Follows its progress
through grass.
] Has like a little white ball in its arms. [
Follows progress. Hand still. Pause.
] It’s gone in. [
Continues a moment to gaze at spot through glass, then slowly straightens up, lays down glass, takes off spectacles and gazes before her, spectacles in hand. Finally.
] Like a little white ball.

[
Long pause. Gesture to lay down spectacles.
]

 
WILLIE
Eggs.

WINNIE
[
arresting gesture
] What?

[
Pause.
]

 
WILLIE
Eggs. [
Pause. Gesture to lay down glasses.
] Formication.

WINNIE
[
arresting gesture
] What?

[
Pause.
]

 
WILLIE
Formication.

[
Pause. She lays down spectacles, gazes before her. Finally.
]

WINNIE
[
murmur
] God. [
Pause. Willie laughs quietly. After a moment she joins in. They laugh quietly together. Willie stops. She laughs on a moment alone. Willie joins in. They laugh together. She stops. Willie laughs on a moment alone. He stops. Pause. Normal voice.
] Ah well what a joy in any case to hear you laugh again, Willie, I was convinced I never would, you never would. [
Pause.
] I suppose some people might think us a trifle irreverent, but I doubt it. [
Pause.
] How can one better magnify the Almighty than by sniggering with him at his little jokes, particularly the poorer ones? [
Pause.
] I think you would back me up there, Willie. [
Pause.
] Or were we perhaps diverted by two quite different things? [
Pause.
] Oh well, what does it matter, that is what I always say, so long as one . . . you know . . . what is that wonderful line . . . laughing wild . . . something something laughing wild amid severest woe. [
Pause.
] And now? [
Long pause.
] Was I lovable once, Willie? [
Pause.
] Was I ever lovable? [
Pause.
] Do not misunderstand my question, I am not asking you if you loved me, we know all about that, I am asking you
if you found me lovable—at one stage. [
Pause.
] No? [
Pause.
] You can’t? [
Pause.
] Well I admit it is a teaser. And you have done more than your bit already, for the time being, just lie back now and relax, I shall not trouble you again unless I am compelled to, just to know you are there within hearing and conceivably on the semi-alert is . . . er . . . paradise enow. [
Pause.
] The day is now well advanced. [
Smile.
] To speak in the old style. [
Smile off.
] And yet it is perhaps a little soon for my song. [
Pause.
] To sing too soon is a great mistake, I find. [
Turning towards bag.
] There is of course the bag. [
Looking at bag.
] The bag. [
Back front.
] Could I enumerate its contents? [
Pause.
] No. [
Pause.
] Could I, if some kind person were to come along and ask, What all have you got in that big black bag, Winnie? give an exhaustive answer? [
Pause.
] No. [
Pause.
] The depths in particular, who knows what treasures. [
Pause.
] What comforts. [
Turns to look at bag.
] Yes, there is the bag. [
Back front.
] But something tells me, Do not overdo the bag, Winnie, make use of it of course, let it help you . . . along, when stuck, by all means, but cast your mind forward, something tells me, cast your mind forward, Winnie, to the time when words must fail—
[
she closes eyes, pause, opens eyes
]—and do not overdo the bag. [
Pause. She turns to look at bag.
] Perhaps just one quick dip. [
She turns back front, closes eyes, throws out left arm, plunges hand in bag and brings out revolver. Disgusted.
] You again! [
She opens eyes, brings revolver front and contemplates it. She weighs it in her palm.
] You’d think the weight of this thing would bring it down among the . . . last rounds. But no. It doesn’t. Ever uppermost, like Browning. [
Pause.
] Brownie . . . [
Turning
a
little towards Willie.
] Remember Brownie, Willie? [
Pause.
] Remember how you used to keep on at me to take it away from you? Take it away, Winnie, take it away, before I put myself out of my misery. [
Back front. Derisive.
]
Your
misery! [
To revolver.
] Oh I suppose it’s a comfort to know you’re there, but I’m tired of you. [
Pause.
] I’ll leave you out, that’s what I’ll do. [
She lays revolver on ground to her right.
] There, that’s your home from this day out. [
Smile.
] The old style! [
Smile off.
] And now? [
Long pause.
] Is gravity what it was, Willie, I fancy not. [
Pause.
] Yes, the feeling more and more that if I were not held—[
gesture
]—in this way, I would simply float up into the blue. [
Pause.
] And that perhaps some day the earth will yield and let me
go, the pull is so great, yes, crack all round me and let me out. [
Pause.
] Don’t you ever have that feeling, Willie, of being sucked up? [
Pause.
] Don’t you have to cling on sometimes, Willie? [
Pause. She turns a little towards him.
] Willie. [
Pause.
]