Pip’s War
a play in 3 acts
by
dustin hansen
copyright 2005
by Dustin Hansen
dustin@silentmouth.com
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Cast of characters
| Arnold | Father. Vietnam vet. Silent, edgy. |
| Alice | Mother. A bit disillusioned with her marriage, with her life, she nevertheless manages to hold the family together. Normally disagrees with anything Arnold says, simply out of spite. |
| Brad | Son. About to turn 18. Not terribly bright, but he knows it. Sullen, insecure. |
| Marie | Daughter. Early to mid teens. Smart. |
| Pip | Daughter. The oldest sibling, but with the mind of a small child. A mentally-retarded invalid, she never speaks or moves — only screams now and again. Not a cry, but a scream, at the top of her lungs, for no apparent reason. There is nothing anyone can do about this — no way to comfort her — you must simply wait for the fit to subside. |
Scene
Family home.
Time
Now.
ACT I
Scene 1
(Darkness. Low spot light comes up on a man in a chair: ARNOLD, as a young man [30’s]. He sits, vacant but intense, icy stare — a mixture of confusion and anger. Motionless. Very long silence. Then a BOY’S VOICE is heard — it’s BRAD’S VOICE, as a young boy.)
BOY’S VOICE
Dad?
(pause)
Dad!
ARNOLD
(looks off to one side slightly, toward the voice)
What?
BOY’S VOICE
What should I do?
ARNOLD
About what?
BOY’S VOICE
I mean what should I be, dad?
ARNOLD
(he stares front again, as before)
I don’t care.
BOY’S VOICE
But what do you think I should do?
ARNOLD
I said I don’t care, Brad. Do whatever the hell you want.
(pause)
BOY’S VOICE
Dad?
ARNOLD
(a touch of anger)
What?
BOY’S VOICE
What’d you usedta wanna be?
ARNOLD
(pause)
I can’t remember.
BOY’S VOICE
Really?
ARNOLD (soft)
Leave me alone.
(long silence. Light fades to black.)
ACT I – Scene 2
(Same. Light up on same chair, ARNOLD, a few years later, much as before — but slightly more aware, slightly less distant. We hear BRAD’s voice, a few years older.)
BRAD’S VOICE
I think I might do it. You think I should?
ARNOLD
What.
BRAD’S VOICE
Go out for football. Weren’t you listening to me?
ARNOLD
Oh, yeah.
BRAD’S VOICE
Well whatta ya think.
ARNOLD
Uh, what for?
BRAD’S VOICE
I dunno. Why not, right?
ARNOLD
Sure, I guess. If you want to. I really don’t care.
BRAD’S VOICE
But you played football, right?
ARNOLD
Yup.
BRAD’S VOICE
So, like, it’s pretty cool, right?
ARNOLD
I dunno. It’s pretty fuckin pointless, I guess.
BRAD’S VOICE
Oh. Yeah, I s’pose. But you get lotsa chicks, too, right?
ARNOLD
What difference does it make. You end up stuck with your mother in the end anyway.
BRAD’S VOICE
Well, but, like, who knows, ya know? I could get a scholarship or somethin, go ta college and everything, ya know?
ARNOLD
Yeah, right.
BRAD’S VOICE
I mean, ya never know. It’s worth a shot, right?
ARNOLD
I didn’t know you wanted to go to college.
BRAD’S VOICE
Sure, why not?
ARNOLD
If you wanna go ta college, you should read books.
BRAD’S VOICE
Come on, dad. That’s not gonna happen. I’m stupid and I always will be, and everyone knows it.
(pause. ARNOLD just sighs heavily.)
Well I think I’ll do it, then.
ARNOLD
O.K.
BRAD’S VOICE
All right then.
(pause)
I’ll see ya later.
(silence. Light fades to black.)
ACT I – Scene 3
| SETTING: | Small sparse working-class American home. The present. A door SL leads to the kitchen; one SR to the garage and outside; on UR leading to the bedrooms. |
| AT RISE: | Pip sits in her chair (a tall, adult-sized high-chair of sorts), as usual, upstage side of the table, staring vacantly. ALICE is giving her a haircut, humming a melody. MARIE and BRAD at the table playing Scrabble. He is tall and well-built, average-looking, always with a kind of sadness in his eyes. MARIE is self-assured, sharp, aware; kind of a “tom boy,” but with pig tails in her hair.) |
MARIE
Brad, come on.
BRAD
I’m thinkin.
(MARIE lets out an exasperated sigh.)
MARIE
If you don’t have a word, just pass.
BRAD
I think I almost got one.
(long pause)
MARIE (bored)
Mom, you wanna play?
ALICE
Maybe in a minute.
BRAD
Ha ha!
(he plays some tiles, triumphantly.)
Add em up.
(he picks new tiles from the box. MARIE stares at his word, unimpressed.)
MARIE
Is that supposed to say “torpedo”?
BRAD
It does say “torpedo.”
MARIE
Um, you’ve got too many “e’s.”
BRAD
What?
MARIE
“Torpedo” only has one “e” in it.
BRAD
Fine, I’ll take one off.
(he removes one of the “e” tiles from the board)
MARIE
But it doesn’t fit, then.
BRAD
Sure it does. . . . Oh yeah, I guess not. Screw it, I pass.
(he folds his arms, mopes)
MARIE
So take your tiles off.
(he does.)
And put your other ones back.
(he puts the new tiles back in the box, counts to make sure he has the right number on his tray)
That only took half an hour.
BRAD
Like five minutes.
MARIE
Whatever.
(she is already putting down a word)
There. “Zygote.” That’s a double-word score . . .
(she adds up the tiles)
BRAD
“Zygote”? That ain’t no word.
MARIE
Um, yeah.
BRAD (to ALICE)
She’s makin crap up again.
MARIE
You wanna challenge?
BRAD
Yeah. I do.
MARIE
I don’t think you wanna challenge that, Brad.
BRAD
(he looks to ALICE for guidance. ALICE shakes her head)
All right, fine. I’ll let it go.
MARIE
Of course you’ll “let it go.” It’s a well-known word, dummy.
BRAD
Fine, if you’re so smart then what’s it mean? Huh?
MARIE
It’s like a fetus. You’ve really never heard of that?
BRAD
It’s “like” a fetus? So why not just call it a fetus, then?
MARIE
It’s like a fetus before it becomes a fetus.
BRAD
Yeah but, like, . . .
MARIE (impatient)
It’s your turn.
BRAD
Fine.
(he lays down some tiles right away this time)
MARIE
Nice.
BRAD
What? It’s a word, isn’t it?
MARIE
Probly.
BRAD
What, you never heard of a “zit” before?
MARIE
I’ve heard of it.
BRAD
Then it’s a word. How many points did I get?
MARIE
Can’t you add it up yourself for once? I mean, jeez, it’s only three letters.
BRAD
Just add the score, brainiac.
MARIE
Eighteen.
BRAD
That’s it?
MARIE
My turn.
(she plays tiles right away again. Adds her score.)
BRAD
“Query”?
(he looks at ALICE again. ALICE nods. He sighs in frustration.)
MARIE
Your turn.
BRAD
I’ll pass.
(MARIE puts down another word, adds the score)
MARIE
Your turn.
BRAD
Pass.
(PIP suddenly screams, at the top of her lungs — one of her fits. ALICE stops cutting her hair, MARIE and BRAD just keep playing, practically as though nothing happened, as though they don’t even hear her — this is simply commonplace. Eventually the screaming stops. MARIE puts down another word, adds her score)
Um, I think you spelled that wrong.
MARIE
Challenge?
BRAD
I don’t wanna challenge, I’m just helping you.
MARIE
Well it’s the right spelling.
BRAD
No, look at it: “V-A-C-U-U-M”? Are you tryin ta spell “vacuum”?
MARIE
I did spell “vacuum.”
(BRAD looks to ALICE to help him out)
ALICE
I think she’s right, Bradley.
BRAD
Whatever. What’s the score, anyway.
MARIE
You really wanna know?
BRAD
Yes, I “really” wanna know.
MARIE
Two hundred seventy to sixty three.
BRAD
Christ!
ALICE
Bradley, that’s enough.
BRAD
Let’s just quit.
MARIE
You forfeit?
BRAD
Yes, I give up, I’m stupid, O.K.?
ALICE
You’re not stupid, Brad. Don’t say things like that.
BRAD
Knock it off. I’m stupid and always will be and everyone knows it, so just give it a rest.
MARIE
Maybe you should read books?
BRAD
Yeah, like that’ll help.
ALICE
He’s doin O.K. You’re gonna graduate, aren’t you, Brad.
BRAD
What’s the difference?
MARIE
Don’t you wanna go ta college?
BRAD
Yeah, right.
ALICE
Not everyone has to go to college, Marie.
MARIE
But, like, what do you wanna do?
BRAD
I dunno, I can’t do anything. I’m not smart and I’m not good at anything. It doesn’t really matter what I “wanna” do, it’s not really up to me.
MARIE
So who’s it up to, then?
BRAD
Probly just . . . work with dad or somethin, I guess.
MARIE
Fixin cars? You don’t know how to fix cars.
BRAD
Well maybe he’ll teach me, you ever thinka that?
(MARIE shrugs)
MARIE
Maybe if you’d try.
BRAD
What’s the point, I never do anything right.
ALICE
Marie, leave your brother alone.
MARIE
Mom, you wanna play Scrabble with me?
ALICE
No, I’m gonna start supper pretty quick here.
MARIE
Ah, jeez.
ALICE
Why don’t you guys get outta the house, go play outside for a while.
BRAD
Hey, yeah, I know one game I can whoop your butt in.
MARIE
(she knows what game he’s talking about already, she smiles excitedly)
Oh yeah? I bet you can’t. I figured out a new strategy.
BRAD
Oh really.
MARIE
Yup. You’re goin down, mister.
BRAD
All right, we’ll see about that.
ALICE
Change your clothes first. And be back inside in an hour.
(BRAD goes off SR, comes back with two paint guns and boxes of paint balls and cartridges.)
BRAD
Choose your weapon.
(MARIE takes a gun and a box of “ammo.”)
ALICE
Just change your clothes, O.K.?
(she exits to kitchen. MARIE and BRAD look at each other for a moment.)
MARIE
I don’t like these clothes anyway.
BRAD
Screw it. Let’s go. I’ll give you a head start. Go!
MARIE
O.K., good luck finding me.
(MARIE giggles, runs out.)
BRAD
You better run.
(he loads the paint gun. Holds it up and aims it, focusing through the site. He pans the gun, aiming it at the audience, then at SL. ALICE suddenly comes back from the kitchen, carrying a broom to sweep up PIP’s hair — the gun pointing right at her. She jumps, drops the broom and dust pan.)
ALICE
Jesus Christ, Bradley. You almost gave me a heart attack. Take that thing outside.
BRAD
Sorry, mom.
(he quickly exits SR. She picks up the broom, sweeps up the hair.)
FADE
ACT I – Scene
4
(The room is empty but for PIP, who sits in her usual chair, her usual spot. Sound of a motorcyle pulling up, shutting off. ARNOLD enters, SR. He is tall, late middle-age, but not as old as he looks. He’s tired, covered in grease. He sits down at his usual spot at the table, SL. Lights up a cigarette. Suddenly, PIP screams. He jumps at first, then just calmly ignores her, waits for it to stop. He takes out his knife, wipes it with a rag, polishes it. BRAD comes in, carrying his paint gun. He has a baseball cap on; a dab or two of brightly-colored paint here and there on his shirt. ARNOLD puts his knife away.)
BRAD
Hey, dad.
ARNOLD
How’s it goin. Looks like ya got hit.
BRAD
Ah, just a scratch or two. But wait’ll you see Marie.
ARNOLD
Ah, jesus, Brad, she’s too little for that shit. You’re gonna hurt her one of these times.
BRAD
Ah, she’s fine.
(MARIE walks in, dejected, and covered pretty much from head to toe with various colors of splattered paint. ARNOLD is laughing, but trying not to let her see.)
MARIE
It’s not funny.
BRAD
Sure it is.
ARNOLD
You better not sit down, just go change your clothes before mom sees you.
BRAD
I offered to hose her off outside.
MARIE
Shut up.
ARNOLD
In fact you better just throw those away — mom sees that she’s gonna wrong your neck.
(she goes. BRAD sits at the table.)
ARNOLD
So. How’s school goin, all right?
BRAD (shrugs)
Ah, it’s O.K. I guess.
(the phone rings. Neither of them move to pick it up. It rings again.)
ALICE
(yelling, from off)
Somebody gonna get that?
ARNOLD
They can leave a message.
BRAD
You wanna play some darts?
ARNOLD
All right.
(phone keeps ringing. BRAD gets the darts, hands half of them to ARNOLD, gestures for his dad to go first; ARNOLD throws the darts, but his hand shakes, and he can barely hit the target. ALICE comes in quickly, picks up the phone.)
ALICE
Hello? . . . Yes, just a second.
(she is about to give the phone to BRAD, then stops, listens again)
What? Oh, all right. . . . Yes, he’s standing right here.
(pause)
Yes. . . . As far as I know. . . . He hasn’t? . . . You’re sure. . . . Really. . . . The whole week? . . . O.K. . . . Yes, I will. . . . Yeah, I’ll talk to him, believe me. . . . O.K., thank you. . . . Bye.
(hangs up. Stands thinking for a bit, angry. She watches BRAD, who makes an effort not to look at her.)
Well guess who that was.
(pause)
Brad.
BRAD
What?
ALICE
Stop it.
(she grabs the darts from his hand and throws them down)
You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Bradley.
BRAD
What.
ALICE
You know goddam well “what.” That was the principal, for your information.
BRAD
Oh.
ALICE
Yeah, “Oh.” Anything you’d care to tell us?
ARNOLD
What’s goin on?
ALICE
Brad?
BRAD
No, not really.
ALICE
“Not really.” It seems Brad has decided to start skipping school.
(ARNOLD says nothing, but stares hard at BRAD)
Yeah. He hasn’t shown up, it seems, this whole damn week.
ARNOLD
What’s goin on, Brad? You tryin ta flunk outta school? You’re shootin yourself in the foot, man, you’re almost done.
BRAD
Doesn’t matter.
(he picks up the darts, starts throwing them at the board again.)
ALICE
Doesn’t matter? Brad, you know how hard it’s gonna be to find a job — even flippin burgers — without a high school diploma? Do you?
ARNOLD
What were you thinkin?
BRAD
I had some stuff ta do.
ALICE
Like what? Like shoot your sister with a paint gun? What “stuff,” Bradley? What’ve you been doin this whole week?
BRAD
I had to meet some people.
ARNOLD
You doin drugs, Brad?
BRAD
No.
ALICE
What “people”?
BRAD
I met with some guys, just some . . . recruiter guys. That’s all.
(pause)
ALICE
What’s that?
ARNOLD
What the hell are you talkin about?
BRAD
I just . . . I was gonna tell you. I was gonna tell you tonight, at dinner, but now I guess . . . Whatever. I signed up, O.K.?
ALICE
You what?
BRAD
I’m in the service. As of today.
ALICE
You’re serious, aren’t you.
BRAD
Serious as a heart attack.
ALICE
Why?
BRAD
Whatta ya mean, “why”? I mean, they attacked us, mom. What don’t you understand?
ALICE
Where is this coming from?
BRAD
This isn’t like some — like I just all of a sudden decided, “Hey, I’m bored, I think I’ll join the army today.” Believe it or not, I’ve actually, like, thought about this. I been thinkin about it for a while.
ALICE
When?
BRAD
For a long time. I mean, somebody’s gotta do it. Why not me, right? What’s the big deal? I mean, Dad joined up.
(ARNOLD suddenly storms out the door, SR.)
What’s with him?
(sound of a motorcycle starting up, speeding off.)
It’s time that I did something with my life, ya know? What’s wrong with that?
ALICE
You didn’t think to maybe ask us? Maybe at least discuss it with us first?
BRAD
I’m not a child anymore, mom. I know what I wanna do.
(pause. PIP suddenly screams. ALICE holds her hand, waits for the fit to stop. She gets up, starts for the kitchen)
ALICE
Go tell your sister supper’s ready.
BRAD (yelling)
Marie! Supper!
(he goes back to throwing darts. ALICE watches him for a moment.)
ALICE
I’m sorry.
BRAD
For what?
ALICE
Just . . . You’re doin the right thing.
BRAD
Thanks.
ALICE
I just wish you would have told us. That’s all.
BRAD
I just told you.
ALICE
O.K.
(she goes. BRAD throws darts. Suddenly he has a fit of rage, and throws all the remaining darts in his hand at once, extremely hard, at the board. Yelling, as he goes off to find MARIE)
BRAD
Marie! Supper!
FADE
ACT I – Scene
5
| AT RISE: | Arnold sits at the dining room table, stabbing a large knife into the wood, pulling it out, and stabbing it in again — intensely, focused only on the knife, but almost calmly. Pip sits in her chair, as always, off to one side, staring vacantly. Alice comes in from kitchen (off), carrying a pot of food, which she sets on the table. Arnold does not look up; continues stabbing the table. |
ALICE
(yelling)
Marie!
MARIE (yelling from off)
What?!
ALICE (yelling)
Supper!
(ALICE sets the food on the table and goes back into the kitchen. MARIE enters from her room, UR, sits at the table, watches her dad, says nothing. She gets up, turn on the radio. ALICE returns, with more food.)
ALICE (to MARIE)
Set the table, will ya?
(MARIE gets up to go. Stops and stares at her dad for a moment, exits to kitchen. ALICE goes to PIP’s chair, slides her over to the table. MARIE returns with plates and silverware, starts setting the table.)
MARIE
Where’s Brad?
ALICE
Hell if I know.
(yelling)
Brad! Supper!
(to ARNOLD)
We’re eatin now, put that goddam thing away.
(ARNOLD keeps stabbing, doesn’t even acknowledge her. MARIE has set all the places except his, stands nervously by his side, unsure what to do. Finally he looks up at her, looks down, puts the knife away. MARIE sets his plate and silverware in front of him)
ARNOLD
Thanks.
(he stares at his plate)
ALICE (yelling)
Brad!
MARIE
Should I go find him?
ALICE
Go see what he’s doin.
(ALICE sits. Silence but for the radio. ARNOLD opens and closes his fist. He gets up, shuts the radio off, sits back down. Opens and closes his fist. MARIE comes back in)
MARIE
I can’t find him.
ALICE
See if he’s out in back.
(MARIE goes. Silence. All of a sudden ARNOLD smashes his plate with his fist. PIP screams.)
Nice. Jesus Christ.
(she holds PIP by the hand, waits for the screaming to stop. To ARNOLD)
Clean that up.
(ARNOLD gets up, paces, turns the radio back on. Sits back down. ALICE gets a bib, puts it on PIP. MARIE returns.)
MARIE
He’s comin.
ALICE
The hell was he doin?
MARIE
Just choppin logs.
ALICE
What an idiot.
MARIE
He said he’ll be in in a sec.
(ALICE feeds PIP, like a baby. She continues doing this throughout most of the meal.)
ALICE
There ya go. Swallow it down, now.
(ARNOLD picks up the broken plate, takes it to the kitchen. BRAD enters — sweating and out of breath. He is about to sit down.)
Wash your hands.
BRAD
(about to exit to kitchen)
Where’s dad?
ALICE
Kitchen, I think.
BRAD
Oh, O.K. I’ll just wait.
MARIE
What’re you choppin all them logs for?
BRAD
I dunno. Firewood.
MARIE
It’s not even winter, dummy.
BRAD
Well, it will be some time, won’t it?
ALICE
Go ahead and start. No sense in waitin for him.
MARIE
Good, I’m starved.
(she dishes herself up a plate of food)
BRAD
That’s O.K., I’ll wait.
ALICE (yelling)
Arnold! It’s getting cold!
(pause. ARNOLD comes back in, sits)
ARNOLD
Sorry. I forgot.
ALICE (to BRAD)
Hands, Bradley.
(BRAD exits to kitchen. He glances at his father, who does not make eye contact)
MARIE
Should we do the “Grace” thing or something?
ALICE
The “Grace thing,” is that what you call it?
MARIE
Whatever. Say “Grace” or whatever?
ALICE
You can if you want. I guess I don’t really . . . [see the point]
MARIE
I just mean, cause, like, for today, just with Brad leavin and everything.
ARNOLD
Sure, let’s say a fuckin prayer.
ALICE
Arny.
ARNOLD
Soon as the hero gets back in here. We gotta wait for the hero.
(pause. MARIE stares down at the table, sort of ashamed but not sure why. BRAD comes back from the kitchen, sits.)
BRAD
What, nobody’s hungry?
(he picks up the big pot)
Dad? You want some ribs?
ARNOLD
Sure.
(BRAD dishes food up for his father, then for himself.)
BRAD
Corn?
ARNOLD
All right.
(BRAD dishes corn)
ALICE
He’s a grown man, he can feed himself.
BRAD
I know that.
ALICE
Well don’t wait on him then.
(ARNOLD goes to the kitchen, comes back with two beers. He cracks one open and hands it to BRAD, who hesitates for a second, then takes it)
BRAD
That’s what I’m talkin about.
ALICE
(to ARNOLD — gently scolding)
What are you doin?
ARNOLD
He’s old enough, ain’t he?
ALICE (stating the obvious)
No.
ARNOLD
He’s old enough to fight in a fuckin war he’s old enough to drink a fuckin beer, ain’t he?
ALICE
All right, take it easy.
(silence. ARNOLD cracks the other beer and take a huge swig. He goes over to the radio and stands looking at it; lights a cigarette.)
BRAD
So this is sorta like a last supper, huh. We should have wine, instead.
ARNOLD
What, you think you’re Jesus or somethin now?
BRAD
No, I just meant —
ARNOLD
Just drink your fuckin beer.
(silence)
ALICE
How’re the ribs?
BRAD
Fuckin good. Really good.
ALICE
Don’t swear like that, you tryin to imitate your father?
ARNOLD
Leave him alone.
BRAD
Anyway it’s good. Thanks, mom.
ALICE
Well, I know it’s your favorite.
BRAD
Aren’t you hungry, dad?
ARNOLD
Nah, you can have mine.
(pause)
ALICE (to PIP)
Come on, sweety. Swallow it, now. Swallow it down. . . .
(pause)
MARIE (to BRAD)
So, like, are you scared?
ALICE
Marie, that’s not — [polite]
BRAD (laughs)
Nah.
MARIE
Really?
BRAD
Well sure, a little bit. But I’ll be fine, nothin’s gonna happen. Hell, I might not even get deployed.
(ARNOLD sighs heavily, shakes his head)
ALICE
Arny, turn on the news.
ARNOLD
What the hell for?
ALICE
Just turn that off and turn on the news.
ARNOLD
It’s all a buncha bullshit.
MARIE
I’ll do it.
(she turns the radio off, walkls over to the TV and turns it on; flips through the channels until she finds the news — it’s a news report about Iraq, WMDs, links to Al Qaeda, etc. etc. She sits back down at the table. Long silence — only the sound of the news.)
ARNOLD
I can’t listen to this shit.
(he gets up, starts to leave)
ALICE
Where the hell you goin?
ARNOLD
I’m just gonna take the bike out.
ALICE
Now?
MARIE
But it’s . . . like, Brad’s last night . . .
BRAD
That’s all right.
ARNOLD
I just gotta clear my head.
ALICE
You’re crazy. You’re gonna kill yourself one of these times.
ARNOLD
The hell do you care.
BRAD
Jesus, what’s your problem?
(tense pause. He never speaks to his father this way)
ARNOLD
What’s that?
ALICE
Brad, leave it be.
BRAD
I mean, you’re just, like, freaking out about, like, everything — about nothin, it’s —
ARNOLD
Just sit down and shut up and listen to your goddam fearless leader, you little cowardly shit.
ALICE
Arny, lay off ‘im, it’s his — [last night]
BRAD
Oh, I’m a coward? I’m a coward? What the hell does that make you?
ARNOLD
Just remember, shooting somebody doesn’t make you a man.
BRAD (overlapping)
How many medals did you get? Huh? Let’s see em. Bring em out. Let’s see all your fucking medals for “bravery.”
ARNOLD (overlapping somewhat)
Is that all you want? A fucking medal? You want a blue ribbon? “First Prize Killer.” “Best At Getting Shot Without Quite Dying.”
BRAD (overlapping)
Come on, bring em out, big guy. You’re so brave? Where are all your fuckin medals?
ARNOLD (yelling)
I threw em away!
(pause)
I threw them in the fucking garbage. That’s where they are. Right where they belong.
(pause)
BRAD
Just because you lost the war doesn’t mean you have to take your failure out on everybody else —
ARNOLD (overlapping)
You don’t know shit about it. You don’t even know what war is.
ALICE
Stop it. For chrissake just stop it! If you don’t want him to go why don’t you just tell him that!
ARNOLD
Of course I don’t want him to fucking go!
(PIP screams. Everyone falls silent, waits for the screaming to stop. Then silence.)
ALICE (to ARNOLD)
Go on. Clear you head a bit.
(a pause, ARNOLD stares at the floor, as though ashamed. He starts to leave.)
But hon, wear your helmet. Please?
(ARNOLD nods, goes. Pause. Sound of a motorcyle starting up,. Revving, speeding off wildly. Pause. ALICE gets up suddenly.)
You want some desert? I made a pie.
BRAD
Sure.
ALICE
Marie?
MARIE
No thanks.
ALICE (tempting her)
It’s apple.
MARIE
No, I’m full. Can I go to my room?
ALICE
Sure, go ahead. You got homework?
MARIE
I already did it.
ALICE
O.K.
(MARIE exits.)
BRAD (still a little angry)
He’s such an idiot. He’s pissed off so he’s gonna drive around like a madman on his stupid Harley until he calms down? If he doesn’t’ run someone over first?
ALICE
He’s always done it.
BRAD
Well that makes it O.K.
ALICE
(she gives hima harsh look, but says nothing.)
I’ll get the pie. You want ice cream?
BRAD
Sure, whatever.
(she exits to kitchen. BRAD sits watching the news: “March To War,” or “Countdown To War,” etc. ALICE returns with pie and ice cream, starts dishing it up.)
ALICE
Here we go. Hope it turned out.
BRAD
Thanks.
ALICE
(feeding a little bit to PIP)
Pip, you want a little pie? Little bit of ice cream? Huh? There we go. Isn’t that good? Hmm?
BRAD
I’m actually gonna miss Pip.
ALICE
Of course you’ll miss her, whatta ya mean?
BRAD
Nothin, I said I’ll miss her, that’s all.
ALICE
Well good. I should hope so.
(pause. BRAD gets up and turns the TV off.)
Heard enough?
BRAD
Yeah, well, it’s pretty much a done deal at this point, isn’t it?
ALICE
Sure seems that way.
(silence. ALICE feeds PIP, ocassionally taking a bite herself. BRAD barely picks at his.)
BRAD
(gets up)
I think I’m gonna go see Sarah.
ALICE
Right now?
BRAD
Yeah, I told her I’d come over.
ALICE
Well, don’t get her pregnant, that’s all I’m gonna say.
BRAD
Mom . . .
ALICE
You’re really going?
BRAD
Yeah, it’s getting late, mom. There’s only so much time, ya know?
ALICE
Yeah, I know, that’s fine. Just . . . thought maybe you’d wanna wait, until . . . I mean, I’m sure he’ll be back pretty soon, he just has to do this sometimes.
BRAD
Yeah, well, I don’t know what else there is to say, anyway.
ALICE
All right then.
(pause)
Well say goodbye to your sister before you go.
BRAD
I will.
ALICE (yelling)
Marie!
BRAD
Jesus, mom.
ALICE
What?
BRAD
Why’s everybody gotta shout all the time around here?
ALICE
I don’t know.
(she smiles, he smiles back. She puts her hand on top of his.)
Just come back safe, all right?
BRAD
Don’t worry about it.
(MARIE comes in)
MARIE
What’s goin on? You leavin?
BRAD
Yup. Gotta get goin.
MARIE
O.K. So when you comin back?
BRAD
Not too long.
MARIE
O.K.
(pause)
Well, bye.
BRAD
Bye.
(MARIE goes back into her room)
Well, that was easy.
(pause. He starts to leave.)
Well, I’m gonna go.
ALICE
You sure you don’t wanna wait?
BRAD
No, that’s O.K. Tell him bye for me.
ALICE
O.K.
BRAD
I’ll see ya.
ALICE
See ya, Brad.
(he starts to go)
Brad?
BRAD
Yeah?
ALICE
We’re proud ‘a ya.
BRAD
Thanks, mom.
(he goes. She sits down and goes back to eating her pie, and feeding some to PIP. Sound of a motorcyle pulling up. PIP suddenly screams. ALICE breaks down sobbing.)
FADE
END OF ACT 1
ACT II
(SLIDESHOW: images from the Vietnam War . . . blends to images from the Iraq War. Song: “Masters Of War” by Bob Dylan.)
END ACT II
ACT III
Scene 1
(Over two years later. Winter. MARIE at the table, PIP in her usual chair, her usual spot. There’s a large banner hung on the wall reading “WELCOME HOME BRAD.” Everyone’s mood is very morose, but they’re trying not to show it. ALICE enters with a big cake, almost drops it.)
MARIE
Mom, be careful.
ALICE
I got it. Marie, you wanna set the table, please?
MARIE
Sure.
(MARIE exits to kitchen. ALICE takes out a bottle of gin — either from her apron, or from some hiding spot in the room — and takes a big drink — it is not the first of the evening.)
ALICE (yelling)
Marie?! Bring the hats and stuff.
MARIE (yelling, off)
O.K.
(ALICE checks her watch, looks around the room, tidies up, makes sure everything looks just right for BRAD’s return. MARIE comes back, carrying a stack of plates with silverware on top, plus a bunch of party hats, noise makers, etc.)
MARIE
I’m not sure about the hats, mom . . .
ALICE
Oh, it’ll be fine. It’ll be fun. You got the confetti?
MARIE
Yeah, it’s right there, but . . .
ALICE
And the silly string?
MARIE
Mom . . . It’s not a birthday party. Jeez.
ALICE
Come on, Marie, it’ll be fun. We have to make it fun. This has to be a happy day. This is a happy day.
MARIE
Whatever.
(she goes. ALICE drinks some more gin. Turns on the radio, finds a station she likes — some jazz, maybe. She dances with PIP — PIP still in her chair, just twirling around. She lights a cigarette, while trying to continue dancing; nearly lights PIP’s hair on fire.)
ALICE
Jesus, I’m sorry, Pip. I almost lit you up like a candle.
(she tries to laugh, but starts crying instead. She shakes it off, wipes her face, refuses to cry. Drinks some more gin. MARIE comes back, with a few cans of “silly string.”)
There we go, that’s the stuff!
(she take a can from MARIE, shakes it up and immediately sprays MARIE with it, chasing her around the room.)
MARIE
Mom! Don’t! You’re getting it all in my hair. Save it for when Brad comes, at least, you’re wasting it.
ALICE
All right. Should we spray him with it as soon as he walks in?
MARIE
Umm . . . I don’t think he’d like that.
ALICE
Sure he will. He’ll laugh.
MARIE
O.K., whatever. I’m not doin it.
ALICE
Come on, let’s dance.
MARIE
Mom, stop.
ALICE
Dance, girlie!
(ALICE grabs MARIE and forces her to dance. The go around the table a couple times, then almost knock PIP over out of her chair; ALICE catches her, sets her upright.)
MARIE
Let’s stop dancing now.
ALICE
All right. You’re right. You O.K., Pip? Huh? Yeah, she’s O.K. I’m sorry, Pip.
(BRAD suddenly walks in. He’s in full military uniform, with a heavy army trenchcoat over the top. His disposition is noticeably altered — he’s more sullen, stiff, on edge, his eyes intense. No one notices him at first.)
BRAD
Hey.
(ALICE and MARIE look up, shocked for a second.)
ALICE
Brad.
MARIE
He just appeared.
ALICE
Where’d you come from?
BRAD
Front door.
ALICE
We were waiting for the doorbell.
MARIE
Hi, Brad!
(she hugs him, doesn’t let go)
ALICE
We were expecting the doorbell, I guess.
BRAD
Didn’t realize I had to ring the doorbell at my own house, I guess.
ALICE
Oh, no — that’s O.K., I mean, you didn’t. You don’t. Welcome home, Brad.
(she hugs him too; he half-heartedly hugs them back, but seems uncomfortable, like he just wishes they’d get away from him.)
We’re so proud of you! Let me take your coat.
MARIE
We were gonna ambush you, you ruined it.
BRAD
What?
MARIE
Yeah, with this —
(she goes to the table for the silly string, puts on a party hat, hides the can of silly string in her pocket or behind her back. ALICE, too, puts on a party hat, puts a hat on PIP, and grabs a noise maker.)
ALICE
Oh god, we’re not ready.
MARIE
— hold on, go out and come back in again.
BRAD
Right.
MARIE
No, do it.
BRAD
You’re actually asking me to leave and come back in?
MARIE
Just do it, Brad.
BRAD
No, I don’t think I will.
MARIE
(sort of sad, disappointed)
Oh. O.K. then.
(ALICE has been sort of quietly sneaking up on BRAD, suddenly starts shooting him with silly string, blowing on a noise maker and laughing like crazy. MARIE joins in, squirting the silly string and making as much noise as possible. ALICE gets carried away, squirting the string right in his face, at close range.)
BRAD
Jesus Christ, get the fuck away from me with that shit!
(he knocks the can out of her hand; it flies across the room. A tense silence.)
ALICE
Sorry, we . . . We thought it would be . . . I don’t really know how to do this . . .
(she fights off tears)
BRAD
That’s all right.
MARIE
You want some cake?
BRAD
Cake? What is this, a fuckin birthday party?
MARIE
It’s just a cake.
ALICE
It’s a “welcome home” party.
BRAD
Yeah.
ALICE
Are you hungry? I bet you haven’t had cake in a while.
BRAD
No, I guess not.
ALICE
Sit down. Marie, go get the whachamacallit. To cut the cake up.
(MARIE exits to kitchen. To BRAD)
You want some gin?
BRAD
Gin, huh?
ALICE
(takes her bottle out and slips it to him)
Here.
BRAD
Not much left.
ALICE
Oh, stop.
(slaps him playfully, but too hard, on the shoulder. He does not like this at all, looks for a second like he is about to hit her. A pause, as he stares at her as though he’d like to kill her. She steps back.)
Well you want it or not.
BRAD
No.
ALICE
(takes her bottle back)
Fine. Fuck you.
(she drinks.)
BRAD
Fuck me.
(silence)
ALICE (rather drunk)
So. Tell us all about it.
BRAD
What?
ALICE
About the, you know. The, fuckin, “war” and everything. Tell us about it.
BRAD
What the hell happened to you?
ALICE
Pardon?
BRAD
Let’s just have some fuckin cake. No talking now. How bout that.
(ALICE blows a noise maker — close to BRAD’s face)
ALICE
Cake time!
(yelling)
Marie! Bring the thing!
(can’t think of the word)
I’m so glad to see you home, and all in one piece.
(she hugs him)
BRAD
Get away from me.
ALICE
Well, that’s one way to talk to your mother.
BRAD
Just, don’t suffocate me like that. O.K.?
ALICE
(probably meant sincerely, but comes out sarcastic)
Sorry.
BRAD
What’s goin on here, anyway?
(MARIE returns, stops in the doorway)
Are you doin this cause you don’t wanna talk about dad? Cause I’d kinda like to know what the deal is there, you mind?
ALICE
Well, I thought we’d . . . Talk about that later.
BRAD
What’s wrong with now?
(MARIE runs off toward her room)
ALICE
Where’re you goin?
MARIE (angry)
I’m going to my room!
(she slams the door)
BRAD
So?
ALICE
Fine. Let’s talk about it.
(she takes a big drink of gin. Offers the bottle to BRAD, now he takes it, drinks, hands it back to her)
I already wrote you about it.
BRAD
Yeah. “Dad lit himself on fire.” What in the motherfucking hell is that supposed to mean, mom? Huh? Tell me. What does that mean?
ALICE
Just what I said. I didn’t — I didn’t want to . . trouble you.
BRAD
Trouble me?
ALICE
I didn’t want to make you worry. I didn’t want you to worry, you’ve got enough on your mind.
BRAD
Yeah, well you failed. Now what the hell happened?
ALICE
He just, well, he . . . snapped, ya know?
BRAD
No. I don’t know. Explain it to me.
ALICE
Just — you know, snapped.
BRAD
Snapped and somehow lit himself on fire.
ALICE
There’s no “somehow,” I mean he just did it. He made up his mind to do it and he went and did it, what don’t you understand, Bradley?
BRAD
Uhh, the part about setting himself on fire. That part.
ALICE
Like the Buddhists. Just like — like in Vietnam, the protestors, he —
BRAD
He did it on purpose.
ALICE
Yes.
BRAD
Where.
ALICE
On the lawn. On the White House lawn.
(silence)
BRAD
Fuck me.
ALICE (trying not to cry)
I didn’t want to talk about it.
(she drinks some more gin. PIP screams. Long pause.)
BRAD
How the hell did he get there? He drove?
ALICE
He drove, he took the bike.
BRAD
Jesus.
ALICE
That’s all he’s been doin. Just . . . seems like all he does is — all he did was drive around on that stupid motorcycle all day long. Quit workin. Quit doin anything. Just drove around.
BRAD
That’s productive.
ALICE
Like he was just tryin to clear his head, like he usually does, but it never worked. So he just kept on drivin. Then one day he says “I’m goin someplace. I won’t be back for a while.” Won’t tell me where.
(pause)
Stupid bastard. I thought he’d run off and left me.
BRAD
He did.
ALICE
I mean like run off with another woman or something. Then I got a call . . . I can’t remember how I heard about it first, if I got the call first or saw it on the news. . . . No, I saw it on the news first. And somehow it was like I knew. They didn’t say who it was — I don’t think they knew, for quite a while. He was just . . . everything was just all burned up. But somehow I knew it was Arny. I remember seeing it — they didn’t show it, they just talked about it. And that almost made me more mad. They didn’t even have the decency to show it. Like it was all for nothin.
BRAD
What the hell was he hoping to achieve?
ALICE
Oh, you know.
BRAD
Not really, no.
ALICE
Just . . . to wake people up, I guess.
BRAD
This from a man who sat in a chair half catatonic most of his life.
ALICE
Just . . . to make a statement.
BRAD
Yeah: “Hey, look at me! I’m on fire!”
ALICE
Well, anyway.
(pause)
He’s in intensive care. If you wanna go see ‘im.
BRAD
Why should I?
ALICE (yelling)
Because he’s your father and he’s dying!
(PIP screams. Silence.)
You don’t have to go, I mean it’s up to you. But I’m goin in the morning, if you wanna come with.
BRAD
What a selfish stupid asshole.
ALICE
Well, you can come, or not, it’s up to you.
BRAD
I’ll think about it.
ALICE
O.K. You think about it.
(pause)
I’m so tired, Brad. I’m just so tired.
BRAD
Why don’t you go to bed, then?
ALICE
Oh, I can’t do that, you just got here, and . . .
BRAD
I don’t mind. I’m kinda tired myself.
ALICE
But it’s your first day back. We had — we were gonna have like a party and everything, and, and play Scrabble, and everything.
BRAD
Just go to bed, mom.
ALICE
You sure? You don’t mind?
BRAD
I don’t mind.
ALICE
You’re such a good boy.
(kisses him on the cheek)
Oh, hold on, I have to give you something before I go.
(she goes to a drawer and takes out something)
He left this. Stuck through a note. He said if you came back to give it to you.
(she holds out ARNOLD’s knife. He stares at it, hesitates, then takes it.)
He didn’t expect to make it, I guess. It said “he’ll understand.”
BRAD
Yeah, well I don’t.
ALICE
He’s a good man, Brad. He really is.
BRAD
I know that. Did I say he wasn’t?
(pause)
ALICE
Well. I’m gonna go to bed. I can’t keep my eyes open.
BRAD
All right.
ALICE
You stayin up for a while?
BRAD
Yeah, maybe for a little while.
ALICE
All right. Good night.
BRAD
Good night.
ACT III – Scene 2
(Middle of the night. BRAD sits alone at the table. Silence. He starts softly whistling “Yankee Doodle.” Without realizing it, he whistles more loudly, gets into it, maybe raps the beat on the table as well. After a bit, ALICE comes down in a robe, squinty-eyed)
ALICE
Hey, you still up?
(Startled, he almost falls out of his chair.)
BRAD
Oh — hi. Yeah. I, uh — sorry, did I — I woke you up, huh.
ALICE
‘Sall right. Whatcha doin?
BRAD
Nothin. Just . . . sittin here.
ALICE
What’re you doin up?
BRAD
Can’t sleep, that’s all.
ALICE
Huh. I s’pose, with the time change and everything.
BRAD
That what?
ALICE
Like, it’s s’posed to be day time — over there, I mean. So —
BRAD
Oh, yeah, that’s true. That’s probly it.
ALICE
Can I make you a snack or somethin?
BRAD
Nah, I’m not hungry.
ALICE
That warm milk stuff’s a lotta hog wash, but you could try it, if ya want.
BRAD
No, that’s fine. I’m fine.
ALICE (yawns)
O.K. Well I’m goin back ta bed.
BRAD
Good night.
ALICE
‘Night.
(she goes up. He sighs, lets his head fall back. He blinks his eyes repeatedly and deliberately, over and over again. Then he lies down on his back on the table. Folds his arms over his chest, and stares up, waiting for sleep to come.)
FADE
ACT III – Scene 3
(Lights change: morning. MARIE comes down, stops when she sees him. Giggles softly. Thinking he’s asleep, she sneaks up on him, then tickles his ribs, laughing. His arm shoots out like a whip and grabs one of her wrists)
BRAD
Whatta you think you’re doing?
MARIE
Ow, Brad, let go, you’re hurting me. Let go.
(he pushes her away)
I was just trying to —
BRAD
Well don’t.
(she runs off, just as ALICE comes down)
ALICE
What’s goin on?
(sees MARIE as she’s leaving)
Where’s she goin? Brad.
BRAD
Huh?
ALICE
Did you sleep here?
BRAD
No.
ALICE
On the table?
BRAD
No. I did not. Sleep.
ALICE
But you’ve been here all night?
BRAD
Is it morning?
ALICE
Can’t you tell the difference?
BRAD
Good morning, then.
ALICE
Good morning. Now get off the damn table.
(he does not move)
You want breakfast? Eggs or somethin?
BRAD
Not hungry.
ALICE
Well, either way, get off the table so those of us who are can set a plate on it, can ya?
(he does not move or respond. She shakes her head.)
You’ve got a bed, ya know.
(she exits to the kitchen)
BRAD (to no one)
I think I’ll go for a walk.
(he gets up, walks off SR.)
ALICE
(calling from off, as she returns)
I guess we’re outta eggs. You want pancakes?
(she stops, sees that he’s gone; accepts it. Yelling)
Marie! Breakfast soon!
(exits to kitchen again)
ACT III – Scene 4
(PIP in her chair; the front of her shirt is covered with food stains, he hair is an unwahsed mess. BRAD is on the phone. He says little, mostly listens, his face filled with suppressed rage.)
BRAD
Yeah.
(pause)
I understand that.
(pause. Yelling)
I didn’t say that.
(pause)
I’m sorry.
(pause)
I said I was sorry. Now how ‘bout you sayin you’re sorry for a change, huh?
(pause)
What the hell do you mean? You don’t think —
(pause)
You don’t think you have anything to apologize for?
(pause)
Yeah, “what you thought was best.” What about what I thought? Huh, Sarah? Did you ever think about what I thought? Or didn’t that make any difference to you?
(pause)
No. No, it’s not. It’s not “your decision.” You’re not the only one who — jesus, I can’t fuckin believe this. I cannot fucking believe that you would do this, Sarah. How can you be that — that selfish, Sarah? Without even asking me? I mean without even fucking telling me? What the fuck is the matter with you?
(pause)
Me? Me? What is that supposed to —
(pause)
Yeah, well I’m back. Aren’t I.
(pause)
Fine. Fuck it.
(pause)
But you’re sure it was mine.
(pause)
I’m not saying that.
(pause)
I didn’t say that.
(pause)
Yeah, well, fuck you too.
(he slams the phone down. Lets out a stifled yell through his teeth.)
Bitch.
(PIP screams.)
Shut up!
(he lights a cigarette. Eventually the scream subsides. MARIE comes in.)
MARIE
Hey.
BRAD
Hey.
MARIE
What’s goin on?
BRAD
Nothin. Does it look like anything’s goin on?
MARIE
Oh, I just, I heard . . . Who were you talkin to?
BRAD
None of your damn business.
MARIE
Oh. O.K. then.
(pause)
So are you, like, back now?
BRAD
No, I’m sittin in the fucking desert. What does it look like?
MARIE
But I mean, like, for good? Or what.
BRAD
No. Just on leave.
MARIE
Oh.
(pause)
So when you goin back?
BRAD
Not too long.
MARIE
O.K.
BRAD
Why. You want me to go back?
MARIE (shrugs)
No.
BRAD
Oh, what, you don’t know? You don’t care if I stay? You don’t care if I live or die, do you.
MARIE
Sure I do.
BRAD
Yeah, right.
(pause)
MARIE
You wanna play Scrabble?
BRAD
Why, so you can whoop my ass every game and make me feel like a worthless piece of shit loser? Huh? Is that why you wanna play?
MARIE
No.
BRAD
Why don’t you play with mom.
MARIE
She’s not here, she’s at the hospital with dad, remember?
BRAD
Well play with Pip, then. Then you can really whoop somebody and tell yourself how great you are, how bout that.
MARIE
You wanna play paint guns?
BRAD
No thanks.
MARIE
Why not?
BRAD
I just don’t, O.K.?
MARIE
I been playin with Marvin, from across the street? He’s pretty good. But I can usually beat ‘im. I’m getting pretty good.
BRAD
Great. So go play with Marvin, then.
MARIE
He’s not home.
BRAD
Well go shoot yourself, then. Just leave me alone.
MARIE
You’re kind of a jerk.
(she runs off)
BRAD
Fuck you.
(silence. He sits, motionless. Face full of rage. He goes to the phone, picks it up, starts to dial, then changes his mind and hangs it up. Paces. Referring to Sarah)
Fuckin cunt.
(ALICE enters, SR. She is dressed in full winter gear — hat, scarf, boots. She is returning from the hospital.)
ALICE
There she is. How’s my Pip?
BRAD
Same as always.
ALICE
Have you been feeding her?
BRAD
Yeah, I gave her some — somethin, some leftover lasagna or whatever.
ALICE (alarmed)
You did?
BRAD
Yeah, why?
ALICE
Bradley, that could choke her!
BRAD
She swallowed it all right.
ALICE
I told you, you’ve gotta give her soft foods. I gave you instructions, Bradley.
BRAD
Stop calling me “Bradley.” And stop giving me instructions, what are you, my drill sargeant?
ALICE
Did you give her a bath?
BRAD
She doesn’t need a bath, mom. Nobody cares what she smells like.
ALICE
You didn’t. You can’t even give your poor sister a bath? What’s wrong with you?
BRAD
I don’t know, mom.
ALICE
If I can’t trust you to leave you with Pip, then I’m gonna have to get her all bundled up and somehow lug her in the car and, I don’t know, borrow a wheel chair from the hospital, I guess, I could do that, but — godammit, Brad, just . . . why can’t you just help me out a little?
(beat)
Where’s Marie?
BRAD
In her room, I think.
ALICE
You’re sure?
BRAD
Yes, she’s in her room. Christ.
(ALICE collapses in a chair, exhausted. Takes off her scarf. Sighs heavily.)
ALICE
You want some cocoa?
BRAD
No thanks.
ALICE
I’ll put some schnaps in it?
BRAD
All right.
(ALICE exits to kitchen. BRAD sits for a moment, then gets up and walks over to PIP. He studies her for a bit. Then lifts her eyelids up, looks into her eyes. Slaps her face gently. He opens her mouth, peers inside.)
BRAD
Anyone home?
(he raps his fist on the top of her head)
Hello? Anyone in there? Anyone home in there?
(PIP screams. Startled, BRAD leaps back. ALICE returns, and BRAD quickly sits back in his chair.)
ALICE
What happened?
BRAD
Nothin, whatta ya mean?
ALICE
Oh dear.
(she holds PIP in her arms, sort of cradles her until the screaming stops)
BRAD
So did Sarah call you at all? While I was over there?
ALICE
No, I don’t think so.
BRAD
Hmm.
ALICE
Why. Didn’t you talk to her on the phone at all? Didn’t she write you?
BRAD
Yeah, she did. But everything she told me was bullshit.
ALICE
Are you . . still together, then, or . . .
BRAD
Hell no.
ALICE
Ah.
(pause)
Ya know, I never cared for her much.
BRAD
Really.
ALICE
No, she seemed like kind of a slut.
BRAD
You never told me that.
ALICE
Well, cause you liked her. What was I gonna say? “Have a nice time, don’t get gonorea”?
BRAD
I talked to her tonight.
ALICE
Yeah?
BRAD
Yeah.
ALICE
How’s she doin?
BRAD
You wanna know what that bitch did?
ALICE
Bradley, there’s no need to call her that.
BRAD
No, there is, mom. That bitch — while I was over there, and without telling me — she goes and gets an abortion. You believe that shit?
ALICE
An abortion?
BRAD
Sick, isn’t it?
ALICE
I didn’t even know she was pregnant.
BRAD
Yeah, well . . .
ALICE
You didn’t tell me that.
BRAD
Well I wasn’t sure . . . I dunno, I just . . . I was gonna tell ya.
ALICE
Good God.
(pause)
So, from . . .
(slightly embarassed)
I guess from before you left, then.
BRAD
Yeah.
ALICE
That’s sad.
BRAD
Only thing kept me goin over there, ya know? I gotta make it. I gotta live and get home to see my new baby.
ALICE
(sighs)
Oh dear.
BRAD
“Oh dear,” that’s all you have to say?
ALICE
Whatta you want me to say? I’m sorry, Brad. It’s terrible.
BRAD
Yeah, well.
ALICE
But, you know, she probly thought . . .
BRAD
What.
ALICE
She probly thought maybe you weren’t . . . coming back, ya know? Then what?
BRAD
Why are you defending her?
ALICE
I’m not defending her, just . . . Well, what’s done is done, right?
BRAD
Yeah. What’s done is done.
(pause)
ALICE
But you’re sure it was yours?
BRAD
Of course it was mine.
(a screech of steam from the tea kettle in the kitchen. PIP screams.)
ALICE
Oh, jeez. Get the kettle, will ya?
BRAD
Sure.
(he exits to the kitchen. ALICE holds PIP in her arms again, until the screaming stops. She stays there, holding her.)
ALICE
What’re we gonna do, Pip? Huh? What the hell are we gonna do?
FADE
ACT III – Scene 5
(BRAD sitting at the table in the middle of the night, as usual. PIP is also up — sometimes softly snoring, then waking up for a bit — in her usual chair. ALICE is at the hospital. BRAD is doing crossword puzzles. He stares at the book, thinking hard, taps his pencil, rubs his eyes, his forehead. He is really just trying to make himself tired.)
BRAD (aloud, to no one)
There’s no such fucking thing. A two-letter word for “existence”?
(pause)
What a crock of shit.
(he throws the book across the room. Rubs his eyes, etc. Silence. Out of nowhere comes a voice — at first extremely quiet.)
VOICE (MARIE’S)
Be.
(he is startled, but is not sure he heard it. Pause.)
Be.
(he looks around, on edge)
Be.
(pause. He looks clesely at PIP — thinking somehow it might have been her speaking.)
Being. To be. To have being. Be. Will be. Been. Has or have been. To cease to be.
(pause)
Be.
(pause)
Be. To be or not to be.
(pause)
Be.
(pause)
That’s the answer.
(BRAD covers his ears, his elbows on the table. Long silence. It appears he may be finally asleep. Sound of a distant scream — a child’s. Pause. The scream again, then a gunshot — loud, and close. Instantly he jumps up, alert. He pounds his head with his fists. Paces. Throws darts at the dart board. Bored with it, he takes the whole bunch of darts and throws them all at once. He retrieves them, steps back a
bit, does the same thing again.)
PIP (very softly)
Be.
(BRAD stares at her, then goes back to his darts. He continues throwing the whole batch of darts at once, retreiving them, and doing this again. After a while of this, ARNOLD enters — though at first he is not recognizable. He’s covered head to toe in bandages, like a mummy, except for a hooded sweatshirt. He walks slowly, stiffly, with a slight limp. BRAD just stares at him, somewhat stunned.)
BRAD
Dad?
ARNOLD
What, didn’t recognize me?
(laughs)
BRAD
Jesus, dad — what’d ya do, escape?
ARNOLD
Somethin like that. I been through worse.
BRAD
Yeah, right. So where’s mom?
ARNOLD
Dunno.
BRAD
Well how’d ya get here, walk?
ARNOLD
Took a bus. Kinda fun. People lookin atcha. I couldn’t really see em, but I could feel em starin.
BRAD
It’s good to see ya.
(he goes up to hug his dad)
ARNOLD
A hug would be excruciating and could very well kill me, Brad — please don’t do that.
BRAD
Oh yeah, sorry. Here . . .
(tries to help ARNOLD to sit down in a chair)
ARNOLD
I can’t really sit. I don’t think that’s . . . [gonna work]
BRAD
Oh. Well what can I do?
ARNOLD
Maybe I’ll stand.
BRAD
You wanna . . . maybe lie down on the table or something? Should we try that?
ARNOLD
Yeah, O.K. Let’s try that.
(after much struggle, they manage to get ARNOLD up on the table. He lies there on his back.)
That’s not bad. This is all right.
(long silence.)
BRAD
So, you, uh . . . You just flipped, huh. You snapped or something.
ARNOLD
Let’s not talk about it.
BRAD
All right.
(pause)
ARNOLD
How’s it feel to be back?
BRAD
Cold?
ARNOLD
Yeah?
BRAD
Yeah, it’s . . . it’s fine. It’s good.
ARNOLD
Hard to adjust.
BRAD
A little, I guess.
ARNOLD
You’re a different person.
BRAD
Not really.
ARNOLD
There’s no goin back. Not really.
BRAD
Nah, it’s just me. Same old Brad. Just a little insomnia. Otherwise I’m right as rain.
ARNOLD
Yup.
(silence)
So. You slit any throats over there?
BRAD
What?
ARNOLD
Maybe they don’t do that anymore.
BRAD
No. They — we don’t.
ARNOLD
We used to do it all the time. Take ears, too. Souveniers, ya know.
BRAD
Right.
ARNOLD
Did you get my present?
BRAD
What’s that?
ARNOLD
The knife.
BRAD
Oh, yeah, I got it. Thanks.
(pause)
ARNOLD
Those ears, used to make necklaces out of em.
(PIP suddenly laughs hysterically. BRAD is startled, confused — just stares at her)
They still drop people from choppers?
BRAD
Did Pip just — was that Pip?
ARNOLD
What.
BRAD
She just — Pip just laughed.
ARNOLD
I don’t think so.
BRAD
When did this happen? Is she . . .
ARNOLD
I guess I can’t hear so good through all this. But I think you’re imagining things, Brad. That happens.
BRAD
Huh. Yeah. Yeah. I could have sworn . . .
ARNOLD
See what we used to do is take em up in the chopper — the VC — and interrogate em, gun to the head, that whole bit, “Tell us what you know or we’ll blow your fucking brains out the window,” that sort of thing. And they’d tell us, or not, and either way then we’d shove em out the window of the chopper into the water below, let the sharks eat em alive. Good old days.
BRAD
Yeah, well, . . .
ARNOLD
You kill any kids? Old women?
BRAD
No.
ARNOLD
That’s tough the first couple times. You gotta keep tellin yourself it was an accident. Then pretty soon you accept that the whole thing’s an accident — none of it matters. It’s all the same. Just one big accident. Nobody’ fault. Nobody’s to blame. So anything goes.
BRAD
I saved a kid’s life. How ‘bout that? You save a lotta kids’ lives?
ARNOLD
Oh sure, of course. You mean with napalm. Destroy em in order to save em. Sure. We saved whole villages. Hell, we saved most of the country. And Laos. And Cambodia. We saved the fuck outta those gook bastards!
(he laughs, chokes. PIP giggles softly; BRAD looks over at her, but can’t tell if he heard it or imagined it.)
BRAD
You’re insane.
ARNOLD
It gets to be fun, though, don’t it? You gotta admit it. Greasin em? Just linin’ em up and mowin em down? Man, I just loved greasin em. The fire bombin, too, is a fuckin thrill — from the plane, anyway. I imagine it’s not as fun from the ground, though.
(laughs. PIP laughs, too. Now BRAD knows he heard it. He stares at her, unsure and a little afraid.)
So whatta they got, now? MK-77? That shit’s better than napalm, ain’t it. Burns hotter, resists water better, sticks to skin better. Damn good shit. It’s amazing, the shit they got now, ain’t it? Those depleted-uranium rounds? Slice through a tank like a pat of butter. Don’t let the kids play on the ruins, though. Or drink the water for a couple billion years, if you can help it. And them cluster bombs, goddam, that’s some brilliant shit. Like sci-fi and shit. Bomb drops out hundrerds of little tiny bombs — “bomblets,” they call em, don’t they? Ain’t that cute. “Bomblets.” And they all explode and send shrapnel, shards of steel flying in every direction. “Anti-personnel.” Slice you into eight or ten pieces, easy. That’s good technology. That’s your tax dollars at work, boy. You don’t have so much need for that Agent Orange, I guess, in the desert — or do ya? But you got that White Phosphorous, too, that’s heavy shit. Burn the skin right down to the bone, gool ol’ Whiskey Pete.
BRAD
Dad, you need to stop this bullshit. I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s —
ARNOLD
The best tool in the box, though, is just the good ol’ AK-47 automatic assault rifle. Am I right? That little beauty has killed more people than all the so-called “Weapons Of Mass Desctruction” combined — did you know that? — well, of course you know that. . Most deadly weapon of the century — hell, in the history of the world. Musta seen some sick shit out there in the desert, huh?
BRAD
Dad, just stop.
ARNOLD
Shootin people with no gear? No tanks, no helicopter gunships, no kevlar, no helmets, no armored vehicles — just a turban and some sandals and a rusty twenty-year-old kalashnikov. Like shootin fish in a barrel, right? Bet you made a few heads explode, eh, son?
BRAD
No.
ARNOLD
Well good for you. That’s the quickest way to end a war, is victory. Kill as many as you can. They surrender, and the war’s over. Victory. With honor.
(PIP bursts out laughing hysterically)
BRAD
Yeah.
(Uncomfortable — now tries not to look at PIP at all. pause)
ARNOLD
Still, even without the victory, it was fun, ya know? Fire in the hole! Hope no women and children are down that hole!
(laughs. PIP laughs with him.)
“Search And Destroy.” The free-fire zones, that’s where it gets real intense — just shoot anything that moves, right? Really get your heart racin. And it’s liberating. Because you don’t have to second-guess. You don’t have to ask questions. You’re not supposed to — you can’t ask questions. You just kill. That’s it. That’s all there is to it. What could be simpler?
(beat)
That’s life. Does the tiger say, “Ah, gee whiz, should I eat the elk alive, or not?” Hell no. He just does it. He just does it. That’s all life is.
BRAD
You’re a sick maniac.
ARNOLD
It’s gotta be a whole other ball game in the city, now. We would just burn the jungle down, just poison all the life there. But you can’t just — well, I guess you could just bomb the cities into rubble. But then you got more and more of em, comin up outta the ruins. Hajii’s sproutin up like weeds outta the ruins. Right? And the more ya kill, the more there seem to be. And they get resistant — it’s like insecticide, you kill all the weak ones, and the strongest just keep multiplyin . . . pretty soon, you gotta use a stronger insecticide . . .
Hoods, chains, water-boarding, stress positions, sleep deprivation, solitary, extreme temperatures . . . And pretty soon of course it’s electrodes on the testicles and finger tips, hungry dogs trained to attack the genitals, naked human pyramids and leashes and sodomy and rape with broom sticks, and pretty soon it’s electric drills and stomping on testicles —
BRAD
You know what? You’re a senile, derranged old man. And I don’t give a shit how much pain you’re in, I’m not gonna feel sorry for you, all you’ve done is made me not give a shit. You want to put your guilt on me or whatever, but that won’t work. It’s yours, dad. You want me to “understand” why you did what you did? Why you thought it was some noble action to fucking set yourself on fire? Well save your breath, it doesn’t matter to me. You’re protesting a war that ended thirty years ago, dad, you don’t know what the fuck is going on. You need help, dad. Serious help.
(PIP laughs)
I think you snapped somehow.
ARNOLD
Oh, come on, son. You don’t have to pretend. See, I can talk about it now. That’s all. About everything — with you, cause I know you understand, you been there. It’s all right. You’re just like me. Just like your old man! Isn’t that what you always wanted? Don’t play dumb, Brad. Tell me all about it.
BRAD
I don’t really feel like it, thanks.
ARNOLD
Come on. How many gooks — hadjii’s, sorry — how many hadjii’s you kill the first month? I mean I know it’s hard to count, cause you’re so far away, and when you get up close it’s just a blood-soaked sandbox full of limbs and tissue, but take a guess.
BRAD
Does it matter?
ARNOLD
Well, sure. More ya kill, more medals ya get. Speakin of which, here, I got a medal for ya.
(he tries to lift himself off the table)
Help me up, would ya?
(BRAD helps him up off the table.)
Hold on, I got it right here in my pocket.
BRAD
Another gift, huh?
(ARNOLD takes out the gift from the pocket of his sweatshirt: it is an ear necklace. He tries to put it around BRAD’s neck)
Jesus Christ, dad.
(BRAD pushes him away violently, and ARNOLD falls to the floor.)
Get away from me, you sick fuck.
ARNOLD
Whatsa matter — you don’t want my medal?
BRAD
Just stay the fuck away from me.
ARNOLD
All right, fine. I’ll just keep it.
(he puts it around his own neck.)
Anyway, I earned it.
(pause. ARNOLD begins whistling “Yankee Doodle,” still lying on the floor.)
BRAD
Knock it off.
(ARNOLD stops whistling)
ARNOLD
Well, I better get some sleep.
(pause)
BRAD
You’re gonna sleep here, on the floor like that?
ARNOLD
Actually I was hopin you could help me up.
BRAD
Oh. O.K.
(BRAD helps his father get up off the floor.)
ARNOLD
Thanks. Thanks. Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.
(ARNOLD starts to go upstairs. Stops)
By the way, I was just kiddin about all that stuff — you know that, right?
BRAD
Yeah, funny.
ARNOLD
I ain’t never killed anybody in all my life. And don’t you let nobody tell you no different, you got that?
BRAD
Yeah, whatever you say.
ARNOLD
Just a prank. It was all just a prank.
BRAD
Sure, dad.
ARNOLD
Good night. Ah-Salaam-Alaikum.
BRAD
What?
ARNOLD
You’re supposed to say “Wa’Alaikum’Salaam.”
BRAD
Right. Go to bed.
ARNOLD
Right. At ease. See you in hell.
(BRAD turns, is about to say something, but his father is gone. PIP laughs hysterically.)
BRAD
Shut up.
(PIP continues to laugh.)
Shut up, Pip. Just stop.
(PIP continues to laugh.)
PIP
Ah-Salaam-Alaikum
(laughs)
BRAD
Shut the fuck up.
PIP
Ah-Salaam-Alaikum.
(she laughs some more)
BRAD
Shut the fuck up!
(BRAD loses it, jumps up and grabs her by the throat, strangling her. She falls out of her chair, to the floor. He crouches over her, choking her, yelling through his teeth, repeating “Shut the fuck up” over and over again. With his hands wrapped around her throat, she continues repeating “Ah-Salaam-Alaikum” over and over again, while laughing. Finally she stops laughing, stops speaking, then breathing; lies motionless. BRAD stops, collapses on top of her. Lies there, sobbing.)
FADE
ACT III – Scene 5
(BRAD sits in a chair by the table — ARNOLD’s chair. PIP has been moved back to her chair; she is dead. BRAD sits simply staring vacantly. ALICE enters SR, in winter gear — cold, exhausted and sad.)
ALICE
Hey.
(pause)
Everything O.K.? Marie’s gonna stay at Gramma’s for a while, she decided.
(pause)
How’s Pip?
(pause. She sits down at the table.)
Well, it’s over. He’s . . .
(she tries hard not to cry)
He’s gone, Brad.
(pause)
It’s for the best, I think. He was in so much pain.
(pause)
How’s my Pip doin?
(she strokes Pip’s hair)
BRAD
Dad’s upstairs.
ALICE
What?
BRAD
He went upstairs to sleep.
ALICE
Shut up. You think that’s funny, somehow?
(of PIP)
Is she . . . [O.K.]? Pip. Pip. Pip, are you hungry? Huh? Has Brad been feeding you? I’ll get you some ice cream, how’s that.
BRAD
She’s dead, mom.
ALICE
Brad, go to bed. You’re wearin me out.
(he turns and looks at ALICE, she realizes it’s true)
What? What happened? What happened, Pip? Pip?
(she hugs Pip, cradles her head in her arms, rocks her back and forth. To BRAD, angry)
What happened?
BRAD
I dunno. . . . She fell. Out of her chair. And . . .
ALICE
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God, Pip . . .
BRAD
Who can tell the difference.
ALICE
Everyone is . . . everyone is dying. Pip. Everyone I know is going away and dying, Pip, what’s . . . what’s going on? What’s going on with this world?
(a pause. Screaming)
What’s going on with this fucking world?
(silence. She sobs, cradling PIP in her arms. BRAD stares at the floor, says nothing.)
BRAD
(not sure what to believe)
So dad’s dead, huh.
ALICE
Everyone’s dead.
BRAD
I’m not. I’m sitting right here. Or didn’t you fucking notice.
ALICE
Brad, shut up! Stop talking to me that way! Go call someone. Call the hospital, call 9-11, did you?
BRAD
No.
ALICE
Why?!
BRAD
She was already dead.
ALICE
I’ll do it then, Jesus Christ, Bradley. I’m gonna go call. You stay here. You stay with her.
(pause)
Brad! Stay with her!
BRAD
I’m right here! I’m not goin any place.
ALICE
Hold her! Make sure she doesn’t fall out of her chair!
BRAD
I’m not gonna hold a fucking corpse, what’s wrong with you?
ALICE
You’re sick.
BRAD
Yeah, well you’re a fuckin drunk.
(ALICE rushes over to him, slaps him hard across the face; then goes out. He lights a cigarette, stares at the floor. Stares at PIP. Gets up, paces for a bit. Turns on the radio. Sits at the table again. Takes out ARNOLD’s knife, holds the knife in his hands, turns it over, studies it. Gently he taps the end of the blade into the table, softly, then again, just slightly harder, again . . . until it sticks into the wood. He stares at it for a long time. ALICE returns, notices the knife, watches him. She sits at the table opposite him. He pulls the knife out of the table, stabs it into the wood again. ALICE sobs, covers her face with her hands.)
FADE
END OF PLAY