Echoes - Fall of '38 by Jane Prendergast
This Play is the copyright of the Author, and may not be performed, copied or sold without the Author's prior consent
Act I
Scene 1
September 26, 1938.A modest but comfortable apartment in Brooklyn,
NY. At rise, JUDITH,a housewife in her late 40s,is setting the table
for dinner, humming the chorus of the "Battle Hymn of the
Republic" as she works. She stands in front of the fan, enjoying the
cold air. MICHAEL, her handsome 20 year old son, enters on his
wheelchair. He is wearing a bathrobe. He mimes looking through an
imaginary window between him and the audience. There is an afghan over
his legs.
We hear elevator noise, children playing in the street.
Noise fades.
JUDITH: You're not dressed yet?
MICHAEL: I'm dressed. Don't you like "understated casual
elegance"?
JUDITH: You know your father doesn't want to see you like this at the
dinner table.
MICHAEL: What should I get dressed for? I'm not going anywhere.
JUDITH: For self-respect. Why don't you put clothes on and let me
take you out to see the leaves. The maple tree on the corner's
completely red. What a sight!
MICHAEL: Good for it. Red now, but in a month it will be bare as
Russia. And, by the way, I do respect myself.
JUDITH: It doesn't show.
MICHAEL: We should go up to the lake. I'd get dressed for that.
JUDITH: Now? They closed three weeks ago on Labor Day.
MICHAEL: It doesn't matter. There'll be someplace else to stay.
There's lots more leaves up there.
JUDITH: Most of those year-round places are restricted. Besides, your
father has to work and I can't manage you and wheelchair by myself.
MICHAEL: Dad could help you get me in. Somebody could help us on the
other end.
JUDITH: What somebody? And suppose you had to go. Suppose we had a
flat.
MICHAEL: You're always imagining the worst.
JUDITH: The worst? The worst is what your father would be like if we
left him in this crisis.
MICHAEL: (mocking) Oh, no! Another crisis! Worse than yesterday's or
maybe the day before.
JUDITH: Very funny, Michael. Even the Times has banner headlines.
This one may be real.
MICHAEL: Then he'll be at Party meetings night and day; he wouldn't
even notice that we'd gone.
JUDITH: Doesn't it bother you a war, maybe a hundred thousand
people dead in Europe?
MICHAEL: It's over there, Mom, not here. I cared about "over
there" once, remember, see what it got me?
JUDITH rubs MICHAEL's back
JUDITH: You must be hungry; you've had nothing since your breakfast.
MICHAEL: Not really. I ate breakfast late.
JUDITH: Late, late, that's the theme song for this house. You ate
late, your father'll be late for dinner. There's an emergency meeting,
so what else is new? I could give you something now, it would hold you
until he gets here.
MICHAEL: I don't need holding. I'm not hungry.
JUDITH: You could have an apple. I've got cheese, olives…
MICHAEL: Oh, for God's sake. Stop with the menu, already.
JUDITH: I'm only trying to take care of you.
MICHAEL: I know, but stuffing food down my throat's not taking care
of me.
JUDITH: I'm not stuffing…
MICHAEL: You always did. From as early as I can remember. At least
then, when I was a kid, I could get some exercise. Now…
JUDITH: All you have to say is "no". "No, thank you" would be
more than I could hope for.
JUDITH continues working and humming chorus of "Battle Hymn of the
Republic"
MICHAEL: Day-dreaming?
JUDITH: What?
MICHAEL: That song (sings, parodies) "Solidarity Forever"
JUDITH: Don't make fun of that.
MICHAEL: It irks me. I've heard it once too often.
JUDITH: People are getting killed for the right to sing that song.
MICHAEL: But not us. We're comfortable.
JUDITH: Should I go man the barricades, Michael? If I got killed,
Michael, who'd take care of you?
MICHAEL: I can just see you on the barricades, Mom, in the Bonwit
Teller blouse you wear to Party socials..
JUDITH: I can support the workers without getting myself killed..
MICHAEL: And look nice while doing it.
JUDITH: Oh, I am so tired of you sneering at everything.
MICHAEL: I've earned the right to sneer a little.
JUDITH: It isn't a little. It's always and forever. And I'm tired of
it.
MICHAEL: So leave me alone.
JUDITH: You were the one who wheeled yourself in here.
MICHAEL: I came in here for some company. Not to get nudged about
food.
JUDITH: I offered you to eat. That's all. Oh, God, I'm trapped here
all day, listening to you. I wish one of us would die!
Key turns in lock.
MICHAEL: Daddy's home
ROBERT enters. He is dressed in a suit, and is carrying a stack of
mimeographed papers. There is a newspaper, The Daily Worker, under his
arm. He puts the papers down on the desk, and the newspaper, beside
his plate on the table.
ROBERT: What a meeting!
JUDITH: Dinner's waiting on the stove.
ROBERT: Wait 'till I tell you about it.
JUDITH: Not now.
ROBERT: We won, Judith…Seven to Four! Just before the vote,
Andre….
JUDITH: NOT NOW!
MICHAEL: Careful, Dad. she's irritable tonight. The heat, maybe the
long wait for dinner…
JUDITH: Shut up, Michael. Dinner's all dried out, I've been warming
it so long..
ROBERT: Michael, go wash your hands so we can eat. I seem to have
walked in on something.
ROBERT exits to kitchen
We hear water running.
JUDITH: And hurry up!
MICHAEL: Compose yourself, Mom. You're letting your temper show.
JUDITH: I…
ROBERT enters from kitchen, sits at table.
ROBERT: Well, it certainly smells good, whatever it is!
JUDITH: Lamb chops.
JUDITH exits to kitchen, returns immediately with food.
MICHAEL: Oh, fortunate we!
JUDITH: There was a sale.
JUDITH puts plates down. MICHAEL looks at his and pushes it away.
MICHAEL: Are these those goddamn shoulder blades again?
JUDITH: Yes, they are. Do you know how much loin lamb chops cost?
ROBERT: We should be happy we have any kind of chop. People on the
picket lines are starving..
MICHAEL: So let's pack the leftovers and send it to them. (softly)
Cost isn't why she buys them.
JUDITH: What do you know about it? You don't shop.
MICHAEL: I know what's kosher and what isn't.
JUDITH: (angrily) Listen, as long as I do the shopping, and the
cooking….
ROBERT: Okay, that's enough, both of you! Aren't I entitled to a
little peace when I come home?
JUDITH: Of course you are. Michael, you don't like it, don't eat.
MICHAEL: Okay, okay. I wasn't hungry anyway.
MICHAEL throws down his fork and wheels himself to the hall.
JUDITH: You see what I have to put up with?
ROBERT: What I saw, you were giving as good as you got. Maybe better.
JUDITH: You're not here all day. It's like being eaten by a shark. He
never stops.
ROBERT: Look what he has to live with.
JUDITH: You mean me?
ROBERT: You know I didn't mean that.
JUDITH: This anger isn't doing him any good. It won't grow his legs
back.
ROBERT: What anger?
JUDITH: What….? Didn't you see?
ROBERT: I heard you raise your voice to him. He reacted.
JUDITH: He reacted to me reacting. He needles me all day. When you're
not here, it's worse.
ROBERT: I can't judge what happens when I'm not here.
JUDITH: What is it to him why I buy shoulder chops?
ROBERT: I don't like them either.
JUDITH: Okay, so bring home more money. Then we can eat caviar.
ROBERT: Did you buy them because they're kosher?
JUDITH: That's ridiculous. My mother always made this kind. I'm
comfortable with them.
ROBERT: Your mother kept kosher.
JUDITH: So that's a crime?
ROBERT: It's reactionary. It keeps the Jews apart from everyone.
"Have a cookie?" "Oh, no thank you, it might not be kosher!"
Meaning "your food's not clean." What a friendly message! I
thought we'd gotten over all of that.
JUDITH: For the last time, I didn't get the lamb chops because
they're kosher. They're not even from the kosher butcher. You want to
see the receipt? Why am I defending myself? All I did was clean your
house and cook your dinner. I plead guilty! Guilty, your honor!
ROBERT: I'm not complaining about your housekeeping. It's the
atmosphere here. I come home all excited from the meeting, but, no,
you don't want to hear. Then there's yelling over dinner.
JUDITH: (yelling) I didn't "yell"!
ROBERT: You're yelling now.
JUDITH: Because you're blind and can't see what's in front of your
face.
ROBERT: You made it unpleasant enough so Michael had to leave the
table.
JUDITH: So he'll eat later. He said he wasn't hungry anyway.
ROBERT: I wanted to talk to him.
JUDITH: He isn't going anywhere. (loudly, exaggeratedly sweet)
Michael! Your father wants to talk to you!
MICHAEL: (off) Coming!
JUDITH: See that wasn't hard at all.
JUDITH piles dishes on the tray and exits to the kitchen. MICHAEL
enters, wheels to table. He is holding a book.
MICHAEL: I was reading, Dad. What's the problem?
ROBERT: No problem, Michael. I just wanted to talk to you.
MICHAEL: What about?
ROBERT: Not about anything. Just talk.
MICHAEL makes an expansive gesture
ROBERT: What are you reading?
MICHAEL: A detective novel. Agatha Christie.
ROBERT: (obviously disappointed) Oh. Any good?
MICHAEL: It fills up my mind so I don't think. Cheaper than opium.
ROBERT: Hey, maybe paperbacks are the real "opium of the people",
hey?
MICHAEL: I guess.
ROBERT: You should have been at the meeting tonight.
MICHAEL: Good one, huh?
ROBERT: (ignoring the mockery) We won! We're supporting the Peace
Resolution, seven to four, with Carl abstaining, of course, like he
always does.
MICHAEL: Peace Resolution, oh me, oh my. You guys on Neville
Chamberlain's side? The tool of Hitler? (MICHAEL picks up copy of
Daily Worker, flourishes it at ROBERT and reads, pointedly slowly)
Pro-Nazi Chamberlain….
ROBERT: Read the headline.
MICHAEL: I saw it.
ROBERT: One hundred and fifty thousand German soldiers on the French
border with their guns pointed right at Paris. Don't you see what
we're on the verge of?
MICHAEL: Sooner or later, what difference does it make? The whole
world will look like Spain. What's to worry? we're winning handily
against the fascists. It says so right here.
ROBERT: How can you, of all people, not want to work for peace?
MICHAEL: What's the point? After all the rallies, war will come.
ROBERT: Not if we do what Stalin says. A sixty-five nation consortium
to decide on the Sudeten Area. Sixty-five so Chamberlain can't push
his agenda.
MICHAEL: So sixty-five's the magic number. Amazing what people can
believe.
ROBERT: What? Isn't it obvious war's wrong!
MICHAEL: (pulls afghan away, exposing his amputated legs to ROBERT)
Except when it was right.
ROBERT: That was different. (ROBERT re-adjusts afghan to cover
MICHAEL's legs)
You should never have gone to Spain.
MICHAEL: What's the difference, me or someone else? If it wasn't me,
some other schmuck'd be sitting in some other Brooklyn bedroom,
wondering what life'd be like if he still had his legs.
ROBERT: Your mind. You could have helped the struggle with your mind.
A strategist. A macher. Like Earl Browder, maybe even.
MICHAEL: Don't these machers, these big shots, don't they
ever…think about the boys they're sending out there?
ROBERT: Of course they do! We all do! That's why aligning with the
League for Peace was so important. (ROBERT picks up a mimeo'd sheet
and hands it to MICHAEL. Read here…
MICHAEL puts it down without reading.
MICHAEL: I've read enough propaganda, Dad. After awhile, it just
sounds silly.
ROBERT retrieves the paper, smooths it, and replaces it on the
stack.
ROBERT: Silly? This paper, that you don't want to read, could change
the course of history. If we can get enough people in all the nations
to sign this paper and we will Hitler will back down.
MICHAEL: If you say so, Dad.
JUDITH enters from kitchen, carrying a plate of food.
JUDITH: (briskly) Hitler can't back down, not after all that
screaming. Stalin knows what he's doing, he wants to keep the Germans
looking west. After the Nazis and the capitalists beat each other to
death, the Red Army'll roll in, nice and fresh, and pick up all the
pieces. I kept your dinner warm for you.
She puts the plate down in front of MICHAEL, who begins to eat.
[end of extract]
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