Read The Magic Tower and Other One-Act Plays Online
Authors: Tennessee Williams
The Magic Tower and Other One-Act Plays (19 page)
GRACE
: And is it true
you—had
to leave
the—high
school?
BLANCHE
: Did I tell you that? I didn’t mean to tell you.
GRACE
: Then it is true, is it, Blanche?
BLANCHE
:
—Oh
, yes.
GRACE
: On account of?
BLANCHE
: The Fitzgerald boy.
[
Grace draws a sharp breath and presses a fist to her mouth
.] I know. Friends of the family for generations!
GRACE
: Was
it—
BLANCHE
:
—An
open
scandal?—I’m
not sure. But his father wrote the Principal about it and suggested that I be persuaded to leave town a while . . . So I came here for my summer vacation, Grace. And here I am. And here you are. I met George. I suddenly looked on him as a possible refuge, a cleft in the rock of the world that I could hide in . . . He’d give me peace, sweet peace! Clear days again, and nights not haunted with fever! Then somehow or
other—whispers
began to reach
him—
“Marry her? What for! She gives it to strangers!” First I only saw it in his eyes, then he came out and told
me—
“You’re a liar, Blanche! This lily-white act is a lie! Your lovers, laid feet to forehead, would stretch all the way from here to Frenchman’s Bayou! So come across, Baby or
else—I
won’t call again . . .” Oh, not exactly in just those words but I am conveying what dear George had in mind! And can you blame him? [
She falls silent. She rises and goes to the window and raises the light green blind on the golden blur of the fading afternoon
.
Children’s distant cries at games are heard
.] Now that I’ve told you all this I feel a lot better. The snakes have stopped hissing those awful things in my brain! And if you want me to, I’ll go away now. I’ll let you put me in
some—quiet—asylum
. . . Then you and Jack can have your baby in peace, and tell him his Aunt sends her love from her home at Belle Reve! Have him grow up
believing—Belle
Reve—wasn’t
lost!
[
A loud, heavy knock at the door
.
Grace gets up and crosses slowly to upstage room. Blanche remains at the window
.
The door is opened on a nice-looking young man with a bouquet of flowers and a very large and handsomely wrapped box of candy
.]
GRACE
[
with enormous joy
]: Why, George!
[
Blanche turns about as if thunder had struck just behind her
.]
GEORGE
[
sheepishly
]: Hello.
GRACE
: Blanche, Blanche, here’s someone that we
were—just
now talking about!
GEORGE
:
She—uh—here
?
GRACE
: Sit down! I think
she’s—bathing
! [
She crosses into downstage room and closes the portieres carefully behind her
.]
[
Blanche touches her lips as a signal for silence. She removes her slippers and tiptoes to the bathroom
.
Grace follows and speaks as if calling through a closed door
.]
Blanche, get out of that bathtub and see who’s come bearing roses!
[
Blanche softly closes the door
.]
BLANCHE
[
through the door
]: Why, who is it, Grace?
GRACE
: George!
[
Blanche opens bathroom door
.]
BLANCHE
: Oh, what a nice surprise!
GEORGE
[
from behind the portieres
]: How are you, Blanche?
BLANCHE
: Dying to see you! But otherwise I’m fine. Open the ice-box and get yourself
some—beer
. . . [
She laughs gaily but there is a look of fear
.] Grace! [
She lowers her voice to a whisper
.] Little sister, come here!
[
Grace crosses to her. Blanche seizes her shoulders and looks into her face with desperate pleading
.]
BLANCHE
[
in a choked whisper
]: Can I come back? Can I come back,
or—have
I—gone
too far!
[
Grace utters a soft cry and buries her face against Blanche
’
s blue satin kimono. Blanche gathers her slowly in a compassionate embrace but her eyes are still wide and doubtful
.
Then, on the other side of the portieres, George begins to whistle. Blanche closes her eyes as if something desperately longed for now had come
.]
BLANCHE
[
in a strong whisper
]: I will! I will! I will!
THE CURTAIN FALLS
.
THE END
.
A ONE ACT PLAY
. . . to destroy all flesh, wherein is the breath of life, from under heaven.
—Genesis
6:17
CHARACTERS
CHICKEN
MYRTLE
LOT
TWO OFFSTAGE VOICES
The open wall of the set discloses a kitchen, hall and a flight of stairs: it is a Mississippi Delta farmhouse, of dull gray against a sky the same color. There is a low, continual murmur of the river near flood. A few moments after the curtain rises a male voice shouts out
.
MALE VOICE
: Hey, Chicken! Chicken!
[
The one being called appears: Chicken, a young man in rubber hip-boots covered with river slick
.]
CHICKEN
[
tonelessly
]: Hey. [
He sits down to remove the boots
.]
MALE VOICE
: We’re clearin’ out.
CHICKEN
: I see.
FEMALE VOICE
: Goin’ up to Sunset.
CHICKEN
: Yeh, I see.
FEMALE VOICE
: Sorry we don’t have room for you in our car.
CHICKEN
: I ain’t goin’ to Sunset. I wouldn’t go up to Sunset if I had my own car to go in, so don’t worry none about that.
FEMALE VOICE
: I ain’t worried about it, it’s your worry, not mine, but we got word that ole man Sikes might dynamite his south bank levee tonight to save his nawth bank levee an’ if he does, you’ place’ll be under at least ten foot of water, you know that.
CHICKEN
[
shouting at them
]: I’d sooner be caught in my house by ten foot of water than caught in the mud on a road between here an’ Sunset an’ drown like kittens tied in a sack with rocks. Cause anyhow in this house there’s something I can climb onto, I can climb on the roof, I can climb up on the roof and set on the roof with the chickens till the water goes down. I done that before and I can do it again, that’s how I got my name, they named me Chicken because I set on the roof with the chickens one time when this place was flooded eighteen year ago, spring of 1932.
FEMALE VOICE
[
shrill, spiteful above bawling children
]: A person could git awful hungry on that roof befo’ th’ water wint down.
CHICKEN
: Shit, if I got hungry I’d bite the haid off one of them other chickens and drink its blood.
MALE VOICE
: I seen a man do that in a freak show once.
FEMALE VOICE
[
cackles shrilly
]: Let’s go, daddy, we’re cold. [
Motor roars and splutters
.] Sorry we don’t have room fo’ you in th’ car! [
Her voice has a mocking inflection: fades under roar of motor and bawling children. Weak lightning flickers in the dull grey afternoon light. Chicken enters the kitchen, lights kerosene lamp, repeating to himself several times the woman’s mocking shout, “Sorry we don’t have room for you in the car.” He is about to pour himself some coffee in a tin cup when another car is heard. Lot and Myrtle appear in back of the house. Chicken leans over the kitchen table as if peering out a window in the open wall of the set
.]
CHICKEN
[
to himself
]: Him! Him and a woman!
[
Lot is a frail, delicately pretty youth of twenty. Myrtle is at least ten years older, a short, stocky woman, ample of hips and bosom, recklessly wearing a pair of tight, checkered slacks and a red leather belt
.]
MYRTLE
[
imitating the wind that whines about the house
]: Wooo, woooo, wooo.
LOT
[
calling out
]: Chicken? Hey, Chicken!
[
Chicken crosses to the door frame and makes the motion of opening the door
]
Surprised to see me?
CHICKEN
: How come they let you out of the Memphis hospital?
LOT
: A hospital ain’t a jail, when you want to get out, you get out.
CHICKEN
: You look worse than before you went in.
MYRTLE
: We had an awful trip down here.
CHICKEN
: Is this woman your nurse?
LOT
: No. Myrtle’s my wife. Myrtle, this is my half-brother
Chicken, Chicken this is Myrtle. We met in Memphis two days ago and got married yesterday.
CHICKEN
: You met on the street?
MYRTLE
: Woooo! Let us in, please, you’re standing there blocking the door.
LOT
: Bring these bags in, Chicken, I can’t lift ‘em again.
[
Lot and Myrtle enter. Chicken follows with their luggage and set it just inside the door. They look at each other and the dry sunflowers rattle beside the house. Nothing is said for a moment
.]
CHICKEN
: So they let you out of the hospital and you met this woman and got married to her and drove her down here through the flood, is that the story, have I got it straight?
MYRTLE
: I smell hot coffee somewhere in this house.
LOT
: I wanted to get home and so did Myrtle.
MYRTLE
: Hell or high water wouldn’t have stopped us. Lot was determined to get here.
CHICKEN
: I’ll tell you something that might be int’resting to you, now that you got here. This time tomorrow both floors of this house will be full of floodwater.
MYRTLE
: My God. What’ll we do?
CHICKEN
: You’ll have two choices. One is drown and the other is climb on the roof.
MYRTLE
: Lot, baby, let’s try and drive back.
CHICKEN
: Why don’t you do that, Lot?
LOT
: I don’t have the strength to drive back. I just have the strength to get upstairs to bed.
MYRTLE
: If I could drive a
car—
LOT
: You can’t, so don’t think about it, since even if you could, the
car would run out of gas and we already hocked the spare tire to buy us gas on the road.
MYRTLE
: What are we going to do?
CHICKEN
: I told you. You can climb on the roof and wait for a helly-copter to pick you up or the flood to go down.
LOT
: I’m going upstairs to rest. [
He starts up the stairs, slowly, with difficulty: disappears above the proscenium
.]
MYRTLE
: Is there any hot coffee?
CHICKEN
: There’s coffee in the kitchen.
MYRTLE
: Good. I sure could use some.
CHICKEN
: Well, come on in.
MYRTLE
: I’ll take some up to Lot soon as I’ve had some myself. [
They enter the kitchen
.] I had no idea he’d just been let out of the hospital when I met him.
CHICKEN
: You want just coffee or coffee with liquor in it?
MYRTLE
: I reckon I could use both, under these circumstances. [
He pours liquor into her coffee cup
] That sort of humming, that sort of low roaring sound, does that come from the river?
CHICKEN
: It sure don’t come from the land.
MYRTLE
: Well, Jesus has always took care of me. Knock wood.
CHICKEN
: If you get on the roof tomorrow, it’ll be Chicken, not Jesus, that gets you up there.
MYRTLE
: It’ll be both. Knock wood. Is this a pan of French fries?
CHICKEN
: Help yourself, I’ve eaten.
MYRTLE
: Thanks. I’ll take a plate up to Lot soon’s I’ve had some myself. I made a resolution to cut out fried foods and sweets but I guess I’m weak natured. I can’t sit in a room with French fries and not have some. Memphis is famous for its French fries.
CHICKEN
: Is that what it’s famous for?
MYRTLE
: I used to work at a place called The French Fried Heaven, in downtown Memphis.
CHICKEN
: I guess that’s why Memphis is famous for its French fries.
MYRTLE
: Well, I’ll go up and see how my little boy is, and try and coax him to have some of these French fries.
CHICKEN
: Hurry back down. I want to talk over the situation with you.
MYRTLE
: I’ll be right back.
[
Myrtle climbs the stairs above the proscenium. While she is up there, Chicken turns up the lamp and crosses with it to the back wall where he has tacked up a colored nude photograph of a girl. He freezes before it and the photo seems to blaze out of the wall. Myrtle comes back down after no more than a minute
]
[
Returning to the kitchen
.] He wouldn’t touch those potatoes so I ate ‘em myself. I can worry about my diet after the flood.
CHICKEN
: You got bigger worries right now.
MYRTLE
: That’s the truth, I have. He was sitting up there panting like he’d just run a foot-race and all he’d say was, “Chicken thinks I’m dying.”
CHICKEN
: I don’t think it, I know it. In that Memphis hospital they let the air out of one his lungs to spare the other, but now the other is going, one lung gone and one going. I guess they let him out because they knew they couldn’t do no more for him.
MYRTLE
: He sure deceived me about it. I hate people to deceive me. He deceived me about his condition and the seriousness of this flood.
CHICKEN
: I got to make up my mind what to do when the flood water gets here.
MYRTLE
: You mean how to keep it from coming in the house?
CHICKEN
: There’s no way to stop that. But I got a decision to make. I never figured that Lot would get married and leave a widow. But that’s what he’s done, and maybe now this witnessed and notarized paper, this agreement leaving me the place when Lot is dead, would be no good. Now what I got to decide is whether or not to get you up on the roof when the house is flooded or leave you down here with Lot.
MYRTLE
: Oh, no. Oh, no. I wouldn’t take the place, not under no conditions. You don’t have to think about that.
CHICKEN
: You can sing one tune tonight and another one later.
MYRTLE
: I swear I’d never take it, my right hand to God. No. Never.
CHICKEN
: Lot couldn’t get on the roof and I don’t think you could either. In fact, I’m sure you couldn’t. I’d have to haul you up there. So you see the situation I got to decide. Whether or not to haul you up on the roof when the river comes in the house, tonight or tomorrow.
MYRTLE
: I like sitting down here with you. A kitchen has always been my favorite room in a house.
—If
we have to go on the roof, we have to lie close together to keep each other warm.
CHICKEN
: Yeah. We’ll see about that. Has Lot told you the set-up, the arrangement between us.
MYRTLE
: No, no, Lot told me nothing.
CHICKEN
: Well, here’s the set-up . . . Lot and me are half brothers. Dad got him in marriage, but I was just a wood’s colt he got off a woman he lived with in Alabama but never married, so the place went to Lot when the old man and Lot’s mother died a few years back. When they did and the place went by law to Lot, I cleared off it and went to live in Meridian, and Lot tried to work it himself but he couldn’t do it, so he sent for me to come back here, which I finally did with the understanding between us that it would be my place whenever Lot dies which I think’ll be soon now, specially with the flood about to come in the house.
—What
have you got to say about all that? Something or nothing?
MYRTLE
: Nothing but what I told you. I don’t want, I wouldn’t accept no place in the country if it was offered to me. I’m a city girl, born and raised, I’d feel lost in the country.
CHICKEN
: You need to feel a sidewalk under your feet?
MYRTLE
: I need companionship, lots of people around me. I tell you, if it wasn’t for you being here, I would die of fright. I would. That river sounds louder to me. Don’t it seem louder to you?
CHICKEN
: That river in flood has got a mighty voice.
[
He crosses to the door-frame: the river sound swells to a muted lion-like roar
.]
MYRTLE
: Oh, don’t go and leave me alone.
CHICKEN
: If God had a voice that’s the way it would sound.
MYRTLE
[
beside him at the door
]: How will you know
if—
CHICKEN
: It’s gonna flood the house? I’ll know for sure when I hear Mr. Sikes dynamiting the south end of his levee to save the rest from breaking.
MYRTLE
: Don’t he care what happens to people below him?
CHICKEN
: No. Mr. Sikes is like God, he’s got more to think about than people below him.
MYRTLE
: Let’s go back in the kitchen and shut the door, and sit close together. You know, I feel like Lot was already gone.
CHICKEN
: You got a marriage license?
MYRTLE
: We got some kind of a paper.
CHICKEN
: Well, go up and bring it down here. If I get rid of that paper I’ll be more likely to help you up on the roof. All right. All right.
[
She goes quietly but rapidly upstairs. Chicken takes the lamp again to the wall with the colored nude picture tacked on it. Myrtle hurries back down
.]
MYRTLE
: Got it. Here it is.
CHICKEN
: Tear it up.
[
Myrtle tears it in two
.]
Give it here, I’ll tear it up. [
He tears it into fragments, goes to the door-frame with them and scatters the fragments outside
.
Returning—
]
The frogs and crickets out there don’t seem to know the place is gonna be flooded. Ignorance is good for them. How was Lot?