ACT TWO ( if presented in two acts)
SCENE
(We see JACKIE slowly rise. He stands sobbing and searches for his book. JACKIE moves down center to the apron. He sits on the front stoop. Still sobbing, he is smoothing out the pages of his Whitman. )
CHORUS:
That shadow my likeness that goes to and fro seeking a livelihood,
chattering, chaffering,
How often I find myself standing and looking at it where it flits,
How often I question and doubt whether that is really me;
But among my lovers and caroling these songs,
O I never doubt whether that is really me.
(BRENDAN enters.)
BRENDAN:
Hey Jackie, I was just going to call up to you.
I was just on my way home from practice
And hoping I would catch you.
Was gonna call up to you.
Didn't think you'd be out here.
JACKIE: Hey, BRENDAN, how's it going?
BRENDAN: Yeh, I was wondering if I would catch you.
Just wondering on my way home.
(beat)
(BRENDAN looks slowly at JACKIE.)
You ok? You look like you’ve been…
JACKIE: Yeh, fine. Just got something in my eye.
BRENDAN: You reading your poems?
JACKIE: Yeh. Same old thing.
BRENDAN: I gotta tell you. I've been working on that poem.
You know...
JACKIE: "When lilacs..."
BRENDAN: Yeh, that one.
I think I'm gonna be ready for the test.
I really am.
JACKIE: Yeh, I'm sure you'll do fine.
BRENDAN: Well, I couldn't have done it myself.
You really helped me out.
(BRENDAN pats JACKIE on the back.)
JACKIE: That's ok. ( as BRENDAN pats) It's ok.
BRENDAN: You know, there's another part in that poem.
I wanted to ask you about.
I think I get it, but I'm not sure.
JACKIE: What part is that?
BRENDAN: Let me see your book.
(beat)
( as an aside thought.)
How come you're reading it out on the stoop?
JACKIE: Hot inside.
Just wanted to get outside
Get some fresh air.
BRENDAN: Yeh, . .is warm tonight.
(beat)
But, look, you can see some stars.
JACKIE: Stars?
BRENDAN: Yeh, the stars.
JACKIE: You look at the stars?
BRENDAN: Yeh, I do.
JACKIE: I wouldn't have figured you .....
BRENDAN:
Why, cause I'm .... a jock? ( he laughs as himself.)
JACKIE:
Sorry, I didn't mean.
BRENDAN: No, it's OK.
It's like you said before.
It's what people expect.
(Taps himself on the head.)
Bucket head ( he laughs.)
JACKIE: Sorry.
BRENDAN: No, really.
It's ok,
See,
I like looking up there
Like looking at the stars.
I like looking up there and just wondering.
Wonder if there's anybody up there?
You ever wonder that?
JACKIE: Yeh, I guess
Sometimes.
BRENDAN: You know,
They say that if you get away from here
Get away from the city
Get way outside
Outside in the country
The sky is white with stars
So many you can't even imagine/
JACKIE: You mean like the Milky Way.
BRENDAN: Yeh, the Milky Way.
(beat)
BRENDAN: You ever been out of the city?
JACKIE: My dad took us to the shore once.
BRENDAN: Never been there.
Never even saw the ocean.
JACKIE: You've never seen the ocean?
BRENDAN: Nope.
JACKIE: Really?
BRENDAN: Never.
(beat)
Except in movies.
(beat)
Maybe when they finish the bridge.
JACKIE: Yeh, maybe.
(long beat as BRENDAN catches himself looking too intently at JACKIE)
BRENDAN: (Suddenly) But you have all your books.
( he takes the book.)
So, anyway.
I want to show you this part.
Gotta find it.
(BRENDAN takes JACKIE'S book.)
Wait, this isn't the right one.
This isn't our book from school.
JACKIE:
No, but it has the poem.
BRENDAN:
It does
Where?
Where is it in this book?
JACKIE: Here.
Right here...
Let me find it for you ....
Let me find it.
(JACKIE opens his book to the right page.)
Here you go.
BRENDAN:
Yeh,
Yeh,
Hold on.
Where's that part?
Where's that part? (looking at the book.)
Down here somewhere. ( he searches.)
Yeh, here it is.
( He reads from the book .He reads slowly and with intent.)
O cruel hands that hold me powerless -- O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul.
(Beat)
BRENDAN: (Looking directly at Jackie.) Yeh. I mean.. I think I get this part.
(beat)
“Cruel hands….”
(beat)
Yeh,
Yeh,
I know....
I know what this means.
(There is a silent, uncomfortable moment where Brendan catches Jackie's eyes.)
I know what it means.
Do you.....?
(beat)
JACKIE: (interrupting the moment.) I told you it's not that hard.
BRENDAN: Yeh,
Not that hard.
(Continuing hesitantly.)
Can I ask you something?
JACKIE: Sure, what?
BRENDAN: When you….
When you and your dad…
(beat)
Has your dad ever….?
JACKIE: Has my dad ever what?
BRENDAN: I don't know.
(beat)
You ever talk to him about this stuff.
JACKIE: What stuff?
BRENDAN: You know, ....
poems and all?
JACKIE: Poems?. ....
my pop?....
poems?. ..
No.
BRENDAN: mine neither.
(beat)
Oh.
What the fuck...
(BRENDAN slaps JACKIE on the back.)
JACKIE: (laughing) Yeh. ...What the fuck...
( A long pause. An uncomfortable silence.)
BRENDAN: (suddenly serious) Do believe in God?
JACKIE: (taken aback by the abrupt question.)Do I what?
BRENDAN: God?
Do you believe in God?
JACKIE: Why do you ask that?
BRENDAN: Because, sometimes I wonder.
(beat)
JACKIE: Wonder what?
BRENDAN: I mean I wonder why?
I wonder why things are
the way they are?
(beat)
You know...
Why some people
some people
are the way they are.
JACKIE: They just are
that's all.
BRENDAN: Yeh,
But do you think...
Do you think there is a plan?
JACKIE: A plan?
BRENDAN: Yeh,
You know...
How they say everything has some purpose...
A reason....
JACKIE:( indifferent) I doubt it.
BRENDAN: (continuing without listening.)
I mean,
Does he make us
make us the way we are?
JACKIE: Who?
BRENDAN: You know, God....
JACKIE: (deliberately) I think we make ourselves.
BRENDAN: Just us?
JACKIE: Just us.
BRENDAN: So, then you don't..
Don't believe in God.
JACKIE: No,
No, I don't...
BRENDAN: Really?
You don't?
JACKIE: No,
I don't.
BRENDAN: So, who made all this?
JACKIE: Nobody.
BRENDAN: Nobody?
JACKIE: Nobody.
(beat)
No,
Nobody...
(somewhat angrily.)
Why do have to have somebody?
They're just there
That's all.
It's just that way!
BRENDAN: So, what about Jesus, and
saints....
(beat)
and the pope?
JACKIE:
Brendan,
What are you talking about?
It's all stories.
All stories
They're just all stories.
BRENDAN: But what about when you die?
JACKIE: Nothing.
BRENDAN: Nothing?
JACKIE: You die.
BRENDAN: Nothing happens?
JACKIE: No,
Nothing happens.
BRENDAN
Nothing,
(JACKIE pages through LEAVES OF GRASS.)
Look,
( he finds the page.)
Listen.
Let me read you this.
I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them,
And the white skeletons of young men, I saw them,
I saw the debris and debris of all the slain soldiers of the war,
But I saw they were not as was thought,
They themselves were fully at rest, they suffer'd not,
The living remain'd and suffer'd, the mother suffer'd,
And the wife and the child and the musing comrade suffer'd,
And the armies that remain'd suffer'd.
(beat)
You see what he says.
What he says about The dead...
the dead soldiers
they fought
These soldiers fought
But, they died
They were killed.
They were killed and now,
now,
once they been killed
they're fully at rest.
(beat)
It's the ones who are still alive
The ones still alive
who have to suffer.
They have to suffer,
Because they're still fighting.
Still fighting.
Everything they do.
They're still fighting.
(beat)
Do you get that?
Does your jock football head get that?
Does it?
BRENDAN: Oh.
I suppose.
JACKIE: (beat)
It's the dead ones
The dead ones who don't have to fight.
They don't have to care
Not anymore.
(beat)
(tapping the book.)
It's from the same poem.
The same poem you read in school
The same poem you studied with me
Only in school they don't read this part.
They don't read it.
BRENDAN: I'm not sure I get it,
Get what you're saying.
JACKIE: For you I guess not.
You have everything.
You're a star
Girls love you
The guys worship you.
Even teachers stand aside for you.
For you a god makes everything perfect.
I'm sorry BRENDAN
But it's not like that for me.
BRENDAN: JACKIE...
I didn't mean.....
JACKIE: And what for the rest of us?
God?
A plan?
The thing is...
I doubt it.
For the rest of us
For the rest of us
There is nothing else.
Just us.
Nothing else.
Just what we have.
What we have to live with.
BRENDAN: So,
what are you saying?
(beat)
What are you saying?
(beat)
You mean,
You mean there is no God?
JACKIE: No.
There isn't.
There is no god.
(beat)
It's just us.
Just us.
BRENDAN: Then,
Then, what is there?
(quickly)
JACKIE: This is what is there.
This Brendan.
This is all we have.
(beat)
BRENDAN; So ....
JACKIE: So what?
BRENDAN: So, you don't think that there's a plan?
That there's a reason?
That things happen for a reason?
JACKIE:
Look,
the way I see it
the way I see it.
If there were a god.
A good god with a plan
A plan with reasons
Then he sure made a mess of it.
A mess of those reasons.
If there's a god,
he must be playing joke
Some really sick joke.
BRENDAN: Yeh,
JACKIE: A sick joke.
BRENDAN: A joke?
Not really funny is it?
JACKIE: No,
It's not funny.
(beat)
BRENDAN: I guess it can be a mess,
Can't it? .
(PAUSE)
(BRENDAN looks at JACKIE. A moment of still silence. )
BRENDAN: (recomposing himself)
So,
What a dope.
(beat)
What am I saying
What am I saying, anyway?
Stupid isn't it?
(He nudges Jackie with his elbow.)
I'm just a dope.
You know,
Bucket head jock.
BRENDAN: (thinks quietly for a moment.)
You know.
I really like talking to you about this stuff.
(beat)
Funny, 'cause I never thought I would.
But you know.
You showed me something.
You really did.
JACKIE: That’s ok.
BRENDAN: No, really.
I get this poetry stuff now.
I get it.
(beat)
You know.
I like talking to you.
Just talking to you.
I do.
(beat)
And I like this poem.
JACKIE: Hey, listen, if you really like it I'll lend you this book. The poetry book they give us in school only has part of the poem. There's more, like I showed you and Whitman wrote tons of others.
See.
(he shows him the cover of Leaves of Grass.)
The whole thing's called "Leaves of Grass."
"Leaves of Grass" by Walt Whitman.
BRENDAN: Walt Whitman!!
JACKIE: Yeh.
BRENDAN: Whitman?
JACKIE: Yeh,
Walt Whitman.
BRENDAN: Whitman?
You mean the bridge guy?!
(beat)
JACKIE: Yeh.
BRENDAN: Wait a minute.
You mean, the poem that's in our book
The poem that's in school
The poem is the bridge guy?
JACKIE:
Yeh.
(beat)
You just read it.
Walt Whitman.
BRENDAN:
I didn't know that.
(beat)
JACKIE: But it's right in our book.
In our book at school.
BRENDAN: Yeh, maybe.
But I didn't know that!
JACKIE: You really don't get it.
Do you. BRENDAN?
Look, Walt Whitman.
(he shows him the book title.)
Here it is.
BRENDAN: Now that you say it....
(beat)
I guess I never paid attention.
Never put it together.
JACKIE: Yeh, it's the same person.
BRENDAN: I still don't get it.
If we read it in school
What's the problem?
What's the big deal?
JACKIE
Because that's not all he wrote
he wrote other things.
BRENDAN:
Other things?
JACKIE:
Yes.... not just this poem.
BRENDAN:
So, what else?
JACKIE: What else?
(beat)
Other things.
I just read you some.
Some of what else he wrote.
BRENDAN: But that was about soldiers.
About soldiers dying.
JACKIE: Yeh, Soldiers
Soldiers dying
But he also wrote about other things.
About soldiers loving.
BRENDAN: You mean that stuff they’re all talking about?
(beat)
That faggot stuff?
JACKIE:
Yeh, if you want to,
Yeh,
That faggot stuff.
(beat)
Look, BRENDAN,
I just like to read.
I don’t listen to them.
I listen to this ( he points to the book.)
This guy's talking.
He's talking to me.
BRENDAN: Yeh, but does he really write about that stuff?
You know…
What they say?
JACKIE:
What they say?
They’re poems.
Poems.
That’s all.
Here.
(He offers him the book.)
Borrow it and see for yourself.
BRENDAN: No, man, that's ok.
I’m not messin’ with any of that stuff.
One poem at a time's enough for me.
Thanks.
(Beat)
(BRENDAN turns to go, then turns back.)
BRENDAN: Maybe….
(BRENDAN takes the book. He looks at it for a moment, then hands it back.)
No.
Maybe not.
Thanks.
(beat)
(BRENDAN asks hopefully.)
Say,
You have time for a Cherry Coke down at Greenberg's?
JACKIE: (shakes his head, "No.")
BRENDAN: Sure?
JACKIE: Sure...
BRENDAN: Ok.
See ya later.
__________________________________________
SCENE
BRENDAN: Yes, I talked to Jackie
Yes, I saw him almost every day.
Always after school.
At his house.
On his front stoop.
I called.
I called to him
"Jackie, you there?"
Called to the front window
Called and he was there
We talked on the stoop
We talked in his room
We talked to each other
We talked as friends.
But always alone.
And never in class
Never at lunch
Never in the halls.
Never in the lockers.
(beat)
Still, somehow they must have seen me.
My friends must have seen me.
(beat)
My friends.
My friends in class.
My friends on the field.
My friends in the hall.
All the people I knew.
People who liked me.
Who said they liked me.
They knew
(stop)
So, then at school.
(Lights up on the chorus.)
CHORUS
1. you hang around with that guy?
2. Don't be fooling around with that stuff.
3. You know what those guys are like.
4. Yeh, "fairy nice fella."
1. Sick
2. Kick his ass.
3. Man, don't even say it.
4. Plays on the other side of the fence.
1. Fuckin' homos
2. You know what he wants.
3. Queers.
4. Don't even say it.
-----------------------------------------------------
SCENE ( lights down on CHORUS, up on BRENDAN.)
BRENDAN:
They spoke
They had something to say.
I heard them
I knew what they said.
I knew them
I knew me.
Where else could I go?
Where else could I be?
Only JACKIE
JACKIE
Who else was there?
Who else?
Who else talked to me?
Really talked to me?
To me?
(beat)
BRENDAN: ( continues addressing the audience from SL. Lights gradually come up on JIMMY. He's drinking a beer and watching the TV. BRENDAN continues.)
Could I go home?
Home?
What was at home?
Home?
How was that home?
(beat)
My dad.
My dad and me.
My dad and those Friday nights.
Those Friday nights together.
Friday nights on the couch.
Friday night in front of the TV.
The Friday night fights.
Just him and me.
Just him and me.
We watched every fight.
On a left hook...
JIMMY: (lights full up on JIMMY CS.)
“What the fuck” .
BRENDAN:
A slip.....
JIMMY:
“What’s wrong with that asshole?”
BRENDAN.
We’re together.
Father and son.
He talks.
He talks.
But not to me.
To the screen..
To the voice.
To the ring.
He talks to the TV.
But he never talks to me.
Fixed on the screen.
He never looks my way.
Never see his eyes.
JIMMY: ( he is smoking a cigarette.)
Now, that was a fight!
Hey, get me another beer, will ya, BRENDAN?
Need another beer after that fight.
(Brendan now moves into the scene. He goes for another beer for his father.)
Marciano, man.
Marciano.
I’m tellin’ you. Them guinnie wops and them cullerds.
They know how ta fight.
These guys really have it down!
(beat)
'At's 'ere way (that's their way)
Know what I means?!"
"Em greaseballs, an' 'em colerds."
( BRENDAN hands his father another beer. JIMMY opens the bottle. Sips. Spits out the beer.)
JIMMY :
What the f…….
(half beat)
This beer’s hot!
BRENDAN:
Shouldn’t be.
JIMMY:
I said, it’s hot.
BRENDAN:
But...
JIMMY:
You counterdictin' me?
BRENDAN:
No, pop…..
JIMMY: (JIMMY slowly rises from his chair and advances toward BRENDAN.)
What you say?
BRENDAN:
Nothin' Pop.
JIMMY:
(Jimmy, with the cigarette between his teeth, begins to slap Brendan, one side then the other with each exchange.)
You counterdictin' me?
(slap)
What’s your problem?
(slap)
What’s your problem, boy?
(slap)
BRENDAN:
I got it from the frige…..
JIMMY:
This beer’s fuckin hot.
(he grabs BRENDAN by the arm, twists it behind him)
BRENDAN: (imploring.)
It didn’t feel warm when I picked it up.
JIMMY:
Didn’t feel warm?
(beat)
Didn’t feel warm?
(twists BRENDAN’s arm tighter.)
You dumb shit!
Stupid cunt!
Stupid boy cunt!
What the fuck you know?
BRENDAN:
Please, Pop.
No!
JIMMY:
What the fuck you know?
(beat)
Like yer ol' lady.
You fuckin' looser/.
(semi beat)
(JIMMY takes on a violent self')
JIMMY:
You like warm beer?
Warm?
You like it warm?
Wanna know what the fuck warm is?
BRENDAN:
No Pa, No!
JIMMY:
Wanna know?
Heh?
Ya wannah know?
Wanna know?
BRENDAN:
No, Pa,
No.
JIMMY: (He raises the cigarette. )
You want warm.
Here’s warm.
(beat)
Here’s warm.
Here’s fuckin’ hot.
(JIMMY presses his lit cigarette into BRENDAN’s neck. )
(BRENDAN writhes and slips to the floor. )
JIMMY:
You stupid fuckin' girly cunt!
JIMMY: (becoming even more possessed and fitful goes back for the bottle of beer.)
You can't get nothin’ right?
Nothin'.
(beat)
You’re like your ol’ lady.
that stupid bitch.
A stupid bitch....
Gin whore....
Gin whore went runnin' off.
(BRENDAN is still on the floor.)
(beat)
JIMMY: (Putting his foot on BRENDAN’S chest and pouring the beer in his face.)
Here you little creep.
Piss on you.
Go on.
( He bends and pours the beer into BRENDAN’s face.)
Go on.
Drink it.
Drink my piss.
BRENDAN:
No, Pop,
No
I don’t like....
JIMMY:
Go ahead you little pussy.
Go ahead.
Drink it.
Go ahead.
You drink it.
You drink it warm.
Warm.
Drink it warm.
Like piss.
(There is a pause as JIMMY stagers and slowly straightens himself. He look down at Brendan. JIMMY kicks BRENDAN who is still writhing on the floor. )
JIMMY: (Wiping him mouth with the back of his sleeve.)
Cry Baby.
(beat)
You ain't never gonna be a man!
(quietly)
Fuck.
( as he puts on his jacket.)
Ahm gone down to Sharkies.
(beat)
Pussy kid
(JIMMY exits.)
_______________________________________
(Brendan remains lit DSC as the chorus speaks.)
SCENE
CHORUS
|
THERE was a child went forth every day;
|
|
|
And the first object he look’upon that object he became;
|
|
|
And that object became part of him for the day, or a certain part of the day, or for many years, or stretching cycles of years.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The early lilacs became part of this child,
|
|
|
And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and red clover, and the song of the phoebe-bird,
|
|
( BRENDAN slowly rises from the floor and comes downstage.)
BRENDAN:
(looking to where his father has just exited.)
Pa.
(beat)
Pa.
(beat)
(BRENDAN turns to the audience.)
Was I a good son?
(beat)
You tell me.
(beat)
Oh, I did everything a good son would do.
I was there for him.
He was all there was to me.
I tried.
(beat)
I tried.
His dinner...
(beat)
I was there.
His shirts....
(beat)
Ready in the morning.
(beat)
Even the collar...
Even the buttons...
(beat)
I pressed them.
I fixed them.
And on the field...
On that field he loved....
On that court he envied....
On the diamond he ran.....
I was out there every day.
In fall, out there arching that goal post pass.
In winter, sinking that final basket.
In spring, that grasping outing glove.
Just for him
Football
Basketball
Baseball
(beat)
The touchdown.
The basket
The run…
Out there ready
Always ready.
Always
I loved him.
How much I loved him.
How long I waited?
How silently I waited..
Waited for his arms.
Waited for his touch.
(beat)
Waited for his kiss.
(long pause)
Hold me!
(beat)
(BRENDAN cries out in torment)
Let me touch you!
(beat)
(Then quietly)
Your arms around me.
(beat)
your face against mine.
(beat)
Did you love me?
(beat)
Did you love me?
(beat)
In every way.....
There was no better son.
_________________________________________________________
SCENE (continues)
BRENDAN: But,
Seeing JACKIE
Seeing JACKIE was the only time
The only time I was free
The only time I was happy,
The only time I felt like something.
Seeing JACKIE was the only thing that felt good.
The only thing that.....
(beat)
That,
(beat)
I don't know.
(beat)
(it was) The only thing.
(BRENDAN facing the audience and calling from stage left.)
BRENDAN: JACKIE, hey, JACKIE, you home?
JACKIE: Yeh. What's up?
BRENDAN: Got a minute?
JACKIE: Sure. I'll be right out.
(JACKIE and BRENDAN move center stage.)
BRENDAN. Hey, how's it goin'?
JACKIE:
(beat)
Whoa! Hey, what happened to you?
BRENDAN: Oh, got tackled I guess.
JACKIE: Sure looks like it.
You like to get beat up like that?
BRENDAN: Hey,
That's part of the game.
JACKIE: I suppose so.
(beat)
So, what’s up?
BRENDAN: I just wanted to tell you..
The test.
The essay test.
I passed.
Passed with a "C",
But I passed.
I gotta say.
You really helped me make sense of that poem.
JACKIE: Sure. No problem.
BRENDAN: No really.
You helped me a lot.
JACKIE: It's ok.
(beat)
BRENDAN: Yeh.
JACKIE:
So,
Now you can play.
Play in the game..
BRENDAN:
Yeh.
I can play.
Makes my old man happy.
JACKIE: See,
I told you you could do it.
BRENDAN:
Yeh,
You did.
JACKIE:
So, you're on your own now.
BRENDAN:
On my own?
JACKIE:
Yeh, you passed the test.
You get the poem.
You see what it means.
BRENDAN:
Oh,
Yeh,
(beat)
Well.
Well, we can still talk, right?
JACKIE:
Sure.
BRENDAN:
Yeh.
JACKIE: And you won't have to worry about your friends.
BRENDAN:
Worry about my friends?
JACKIE:
Look,
I know.
BRENDAN:
I....
JACKIE:
You don't have to explain.
BRENDAN:
But.
(beat)
Oh,
What do they know?
(beat)
You know.
It's not just that poem.
Not just about Lilacs.
(beat)
You know....
The other things..
The other things too.
I mean about god and all.
JACKIE: Oh, forget it.
I was just talking.,
BRENDAN: No,
really.
I've been thinking about that.
(beat)
That it's maybe just a joke....
(pause)
So, what am I saying?
(BRENDAN gives a forced laugh.)
What am I saying, anyway?
Stupid isn't it?
(He nudges Jackie with his elbow.)
I'm just a dope.
You know,
Bucket head jock.
(beat)
(Addressing Jackie again with a different tone.)
Laugh!
(beat)
Go ahead...
(Brendan pokes Jackie playfully in the side.)
(beat)
Laugh!
(He pokes him again.)
(beat)
Come on man!
(Another poke.)
You know your problem?
(Brendan pokes at Jackie ad lib with each line.)
You don't get out.
Don't get it.
You need to get out...
Need to get out.
Play a little ball.
(He continues to poke and tickle Jackie.)
Rough it up a little bit.
(poke)
(Jackie squirms a bit. He laughs>)
See,
See what I mean,
You need to laugh a little.
Loosen it up.
JACKIE:
Ok. OK
BRENDAN:
(Brendan grabs Jackie in a hold.)
Now I got ya....
(beat)
I got ya...
(beat)
You gonna get out a them books?
(Brendan squeezes Jackie tighter.)
Gonna get outta 'em?
(beat)
Huh?
Huh?
(beat)
Gonna get out??
(Repeat ad lib.)
JACKIE: (laughing)
Yea, Yea,
I'll get out 'a 'em.
BRENDAN: (Squeezing lovingly)
No more poems?
JACKIE:
No more poems!
(The physical interplay becomes more intimate but still playful. Brendan eventually pins Jackie and sits on him. Ad lib.)
BRENDAN:
No more books?
JACKIE:
No more books.
BRENDAN:
Sure?
JACKIE:
Sure!
(PAUSE)
(BRENDAN now has JACKIE in a hold such that they are face to face. There is a moment of realization. A great hesitation. BRENDAN drops JACKIE and backs off. There is a moment of mutual discomfort.)
JACKIE:
You're nuts.
You know that?
BRENDAN: (speaking of himself as he lets JACKIE go and straightens himself.)
Bone head.
(beat)
What can you expect?
___________________-
(BRENDAN disengages himself from JACKIE. )
(Long Pause)
Look, I was thinking.
Maybe,
Maybe, I would like to borrow that book.
JACKIE: You mean the Whitman?
BRENDAN: Yeh, the one our poem in class came from.
JACKIE: Really?
You want to read it?
BRENDAN: Yeh, can I?
JACKIE: Sure.
Here. ( he hands him the book.)
(JACKIE hands BRENDAN the book and exits)
BRENDAN: ( As Jackie exits.) Hey,
I still owe you a Cherry Coke!.
Invitation still stands.
(Lights dim except on Brendan. BRENDAN : To the audience:)
BRENDAN:
I borrowed the book.
I read it.
I read the book.
The whole book.
It was different.
Different than just the poem they gave us in school.
I read.
Page by page I read.
At first it wasn't easy.
But I kept on going.
At first there was nothing.
At first there was no point.
But then I knew
I knew why I read,
I read for JACKIE.
I wanted to read.
To read for him.
To read to tell him
To read to show him
To ....
(beat)
Then, it happened
At a certain point
It happened
At a certain point.
It took me across
Took me across a bridge
Across a bridge
To someplace new.
First there were the words
Words not like words
Words people here don't say
Words
Then there was something in the sound.
The sound of the words
The sound of the words in my ears.
The sound of the words in my head.
And there was something in the feel.
Something like a beat
Something like a " tum,/ ta - tum / ta - tum."
I felt it.
I felt it inside me.
And, then, in a funny way.
In a funny way,
Things began to make sense.
There was a deeper sound.
A sound inside me.
The words seemed to fit.
The words seemed to by my words.
Words I didn't know I had.
(Brendan reads from Calamus)
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Not heat flames up and consumes,
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Not sea-waves hurry in and out,
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Not the air, delicious and dry, the air of the ripe summer, bears lightly along white down-balls of myriads of seeds,
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Wafted, sailing gracefully, to drop where they may;
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Not these—O none of these, more than the flames of me, consuming, burning for his love whom I love!
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5
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O none, more than I, hurrying in and out:
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—Does the tide hurry, seeking something, and never give up? O I the same;
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O nor down-balls, nor perfumes, nor the high, rain-emitting clouds, are borne through the open air,
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Any more than my Soul is borne through the open air,
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Wafted in all directions, O love, for friendship, for you.
(WW Not Heat Flames.)
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SCENE
CHORUS ( the chorus speaks in an echo Woman first, men second.)
1. (women) Brick homes.
1. (men) Brick homes.
2. Row homes.
2.Row homes.
3.Shoulder to shoulder
3.Shoulder t o shoulder.
4. Rib to rib.
4. Rib to rib.
1. One window out front
1.One window out front.
2.One window out back.
2. One window out back
3. A view of the alley
4. A view of the street
1. A white marble stoop.
PRIEST:
These are my people
This is their world.
An honest world
A hard working world
Good people.
Working people
People with homes.
Brick homes.
Row homes.
Philly homes.
Their homes,
This they call...
The city of homes.
Homes of bricks
And white marble stoops.
Trinity homes
One room to a floor
three floors to a house.
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