The Normal Heart and The Destiny of Me: Two Plays (19 page)

ALEXANDER:
It feels good. Except when it’s over. When it feels bad.

RICHARD:
(
Taking the money
RENA
has left by the phone.
) I got a raise.

ALEXANDER:
How could I be bar mitzvahed when I don’t believe in God?

RICHARD:
Why do you say things like that?

ALEXANDER:
What’s wrong with saying what you believe?

RICHARD:
You’re just an obnoxious show-off!

ALEXANDER:
And you’re my father!

(
RICHARD
raises his hand to hit him.
ALEXANDER
moves adeptly out of the way.
)

Do you believe in God?

RICHARD:
Of course I believe in God!

ALEXANDER:
I don’t know why. He hasn’t been very good to you.

NED:
(
Impressed.
) Did we learn how to fight from them?

RICHARD:
Then go live in Hyattsville with those goddamned six dozen burned-out families on their goddamned training flights.

ALEXANDER:
I didn’t learn one thing from them! Not one goddamned thing!

NED:
Then where did we come from?

ALEXANDER:
We made it on our own! With lots of help from me!

HANNIMAN:
(
Rushing in.
) What’s wrong?

NED:
(
To
ALEXANDER.
) So we sprang full-grown from the head of Zeus?

HANNIMAN:
Are you having some sort of drug reaction?

ALEXANDER:
Yes!

NED:
Yes! (
To
HANNIMAN.
) I started an organization of activists. Slowly we have lessened from ten to two the years required for a drug to meander through your maze from that first spark in a scientist’s eye to your much-sought-after Good Housekeeping Seal. So what do you give us as our first reward? You have studied this rat shit in one hundred and fifty cities, on four continents, in a quarter-million suffering, desperate, docile bodies. You have tested it alone, in numerous combinations, in high dose and low dose, in early intervention and late. You have spent over $300 million attempting to disguise the truth
we told you seven years ago, based on our own experience using bootleg supplies we smuggled out of the factories of its manufacturer in the dead of night, that rat shit is rat shit. But do you listen to us? Of course not. We are not scientists. Our results are not based on “good science,” “controlled” studies that cost $300 million. How dare you still dispense this. . . this . . . this rat shit?!

HANNIMAN:
When will you tell us how you really feel? (
Angry.
) Why do you and yours always and automatically believe the worst about everything we do? This “rat shit” has become the standard of care against which we must test anything new. That’s the only way we can find out if
anything
is better. And you know as well as I do that so far there’s
nothing else to
use as a control! To measure new “rat shit” against! (
Looking out the window:
) Oh, why are you here! We’re all doing the best we can. Do you want vengeance or do you want a cure!

NED:
I’m here to try the top-secret experimental miracle your husband has up his high-tech ass to redeem his wretched reputation (
Brandishing the bottle again.
) before all of the billion presently predicted cases die. It’s called a last-ditch stand.

HANNIMAN:
You’ve already been given the first part of the top-secret experimental miracle. What do you think it was I rammed up your low-tech ass? And you have to take this with it. (
Getting a glass of water and practically ramming some pills down his throat.
) Because the protocol we’ve submitted to the seventeen committees Congress mandates must repeat must vote approval every time Tony pisses requires that you cannot take one without the other. You want to be saved? Shut your fucking mouth and let us save you our way. Swallow! (
Leaves when she sees be does.
)

(
RENA
returns wearing a different uniform.
)

RICHARD:
Now he doesn’t believe in God.

RENA:
Come with me tonight for a change.

ALEXANDER:
All God is is just a little black book in the sky where it’s written down exactly when we’re going to die.

RENA:
That’s very original. Alexander, the dishes.

RICHARD:
You’re going out again?

ALEXANDER:
That’s all God is. A little black book.

RENA:
You know tonight is my night for being a hostess to the servicemen at the Stage Door Canteen. Come with me. We could dance.

ALEXANDER:
Saying when we’re going to die.

RICHARD:
I don’t want to dance.

ALEXANDER:
It sure would save a lot of time if I could read it right now.

RENA:
We used to go everywhere. Mrs. Roosevelt might he there. And those Andrews Sisters.

ALEXANDER:
Ma, I know all their songs!

RICHARD:
I’m tired. Sometimes I feel real old, Rene.

ALEXANDER:
Take
me!

RENA:
Don’t say that. You’ll talk yourself into it.

RICHARD:
And like I’m not going to make it.

NED:
(
Directed toward
RICHARD.
) You’re the same age I am now.

ALEXANDER:
Don’t you dare feel sorry for him!

RENA:
You’re fine and our health is fine and you finally have a full-time job. We’re all fine.

NED:
You have . . . thirty years before you die . . .

RENA:
I feel I’m really doing something useful. I love my job.

RICHARD:
Which one? You have so many.

RENA:
I like helping people. Why does that bother you so? What’s wrong with my feeling good? (
Starts clearing the table.
)

RICHARD:
I don’t feel good. I’ve never felt at home here. I can’t wait to go back home.

NED:
You can’t retire for twenty years.

RICHARD:
Nineteen.

NED:
Amost twenty.

RICHARD:
Nineteen and a half.

ALEXANDER:
Nineteen and three-quarters.

RENA:
(
To
ALEXANDER.
) Didn’t you forget something?

ALEXANDER:
(
Giving her a ritual kiss.
) A kiss for the cook.

RICHARD:
A kiss for the cook? What did she cook?

RENA:
Washington is such a transient city. Everyone’s always talking about going back to someplace else. Funny how nobody ever thinks this place is home.

ALEXANDER:
We don’t live
in
Washington. We live on the wrong side of the District Line. We are
of
the Capital of the United States but we are not
in
it.

RICHARD:
We never should have left Connecticut. We’re going back.

ALEXANDER:
We are outsiders.

RENA:
I like it here. People do all sorts of interesting, important things. I got a new assignment. I’m going to help avert the many accidents suffered by returning servicemen just out of military hospitals and with prosthetic limbs.

ALEXANDER:
What’s prosthetic limbs?

NED:
(
Starts singing softly, then a little dance.
) “Blue skies, smiling at me. . . “

RENA:
Artificial arms and legs and hands. Made of wood and metal. When these wounded men go into stores, the sales personnel recoil in fear and horror. I’m going to be trained at the Pentagon! And then I’ll be sent to department stores like Garfinkel’s and specialty stores, like Rich’s Shoes. And I’ll bring these arms and hands and legs with me so the staff can see and feel them and then they won’t be so frightened of them and they can come right up to these men and say, “May I help you, sir?”

ALEXANDER:
Mom, that’s very depressing. I know all the Andrews Sisters’ songs!

RICHARD:
That’s very depressing.

ALEXANDER:
Please!

(
RENA
goes back into her bedroom.
ALEXANDER
begins to sing a medley of Andrews Sisters songs.
)

“Oh give me land lots of land under starry skies above . . .” “Drinking rum and Coca-Cola . . .” “Don’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me . . .” “There’s going to be a hallelujah day, When the boys have all come home to stay . . .”

RICHARD:
Stop that.

ALEXANDER:
(
Dancing, kicking high.
) “And a million bands begin to play. . .”

RICHARD:
I said stop it!

ALEXANDER:
“We’ll be dancing the Victory Polka!”

NED:
“Never saw the sun shining so bright. . .”

ALEXANDER:
You like the way Fred Astaire dances.

RICHARD:
You don’t dance like Fred Astaire.

NED:
“Noticing the days hurrying by. . .”

ALEXANDER:
How do you know I won’t develop? Even Fred started somewhere. “When you’re in love, my how time flies. . .”

(
RICHARD
pounces on him suddenly, trying to restrain the dance movements. But the kid refuses
to
stop and
RICHARD
finds himself becoming more violent than he intended.
)

Poppa!

(
RICHARD
lets go, shaking his head at what has come over him; he sits down and stares into space, before taking up his paper again.
)

Why can’t I do what I want to?

NED:
(
Helping him up from the floor.
) That is probably the least satisfactorily answered question in the history of man.

ALEXANDER:
(
Defiantly.
) Oh, I am going to do with my life every single thing I want to do I don’t care what and you better, too!

(
RENA
comes out wearing an outfit for hostessing at the Stage Door Canteen. She carries a wooden leg and an arm with a metal hook. She takes
NED’
s hand and makes him touch the limbs.
)

RENA:
I want my son to become a leader in the fight against discrimination and prejudice. Don’t stay up too late. (
Unloads the limbs on
NED
and kisses him good night. Starting out, passing
RICHARD.
) Last chance. It will cheer you up. (
Leaves.
)

RICHARD:
Yes, I have a good job. Yes, the government is a good employer that’ll never fire me if I keep my mouth shut.

(
NED
gives the limbs to
ALEXANDER.
)

(
Laying out utensils, bowl, and cereal for his breakfast.
) I supervise the documentation of all the ocean-going vessels that come anywhere near or leave our shores. I verify their seaworthiness. I study their manifests and any supporting documents. Then I make a decision. Yes or No. There’s not much evidence of crime on the high seas anymore, so usually there isn’t any reason to say No. Each day is like the one before. Each week and month and year are the same. For this I went to Yale and Yale Law School. For this I get up every day at dawn while everyone’s asleep. So I can go through life stamping papers Yes. I got a raise.

ALEXANDER:
So did I. Thank you, Poppa. (
Tries to hug him, still holding the limbs.
) Poppa, would you like me to get up early and have breakfast with you?

RICHARD:
(
Taking the limbs from him and moving away.
) That’s okay. You finish your homework, boy?

ALEXANDER:
Yes, Poppa.

RICHARD:
That’s good. You’ve got to get into Yale. Good night, boy.

ALEXANDER:
Good night, Poppa. Poppa. . .

(
ALEXANDER
wants to kiss him and be kissed. Rut
RICHARD
goes into his bedroom, taking the limbs.
)

Does the fighting stop someday?

NED:
No.

ALEXANDER:
Does any dream come true? (
No answer.
) Should I stop wishing?

NED:
(
Pause.
) A few dreams do.

ALEXANDER:
You had me worried.

NED:
Not many.

ALEXANDER:
Are you afraid if you tell me the truth I’ll slit my wrists?

NED:
I wish you could know now everything that happened so you could avoid the things that hurt.

ALEXANDER:
Would I do anything differently?

NED:
I don’t know if we can.

ALEXANDER:
Then don’t tell me. I guess it wouldn’t be much fun anyway if I knew everything in advance. It
will
become fun. . . ? Oh, Ned, I want a friend so bad . . . ly!

NED:
I know.

ALEXANDER:
(
Taking out Dr. Krafft-Ebing and reading from it.
) “X, a young student in North Germany, began his sexual life in his thirteenth year when he became acquainted with another boy. From that point, he frequently indulged in
immissio penis in os,
although his ambition was always
penem viri in anum.
My advice was to strenuously combat these impulses, perform marital duties, eschew masturbation, and undergo treatment.” You sort of get the feeling that, whatever it is, Dr. Krafft-Ebing doesn’t want you to do it. Ned, who am I? Who can tell me?