The Oldest Trick in the Book by David Christner

This Play is the copyright of the Author and may not be performed, copied or sold without the Author's prior consent

ACT II, SCENE I

SCENE: Hillary's apartment the following day. LIGHTS COME UP on
Elizabeth and her grandparents: BETTY and ADAM JOHNSON. They are in
their early seventies, intelligent and have all the trappings of
sophistication and wealth about them. Betty is serving tea from a
sterling tea set.

BETTY: Now mind you, Elizabeth, I have nothing against pottery, but
one doesn't serve tea formally from pottery—regardless of who the
potter is.

ELIZABETH: And I don't serve tea formally at all.

BETTY: That's due to your age; it will change.

ELIZABETH: My age?

BETTY: Your attitude.

BETTY: They'll both change—one for the better, one for the worse.

ELIZABETH: Just like Mother, except she got older but not wiser.

BETTY: Your mother was-

BETTY: Is!

BETTY: Is an exception to that and a number of other general rules.

BETTY: She never took to serving tea, formally or otherwise. I don't
think this silver has been used three times in 20 years.

ELIZABETH: I remember once. (They look at her curiously.) That time
we were being burglarized. Mom let that guy have it on the side of the
head with the teapot. That's where the dent came from.

BETTY: I remember that! Knocked him cold, didn't she?

BETTY: Adam! She was extremely fortunate that something-terrible
didn't happen.

BETTY: Cold-cocked the son-of-a-bitch!

BETTY: She could have been killed!

ELIZABETH: Mother has always been able to take care of herself—up
to now anyway.

BETTY: What does that mean?

ELIZABETH: Oh . . . nothing.

BETTY: Tell us about this new young man of yours.

ELIZABETH: He isn't mine.

BETTY: Where did you say he's from?

ELIZABETH: I didn't.

BETTY: Didn't you say BC?

ELIZABETH: I met him at BC; he's not from there.

BETTY: Is he—Catholic?

ELIZABETH: Not that I know of.

BETTY: Where the hell is he from?

ELIZABETH: Oklahoma.

BETTY: My god! Oklahoma.

BETTY: Then he's a Protestant?

ELIZABETH: We haven't discussed his religion.

ADAM: What brought him East?

ELIZABETH: Amtrak.

ADAM: Jesus

BETTY: Adam!

ADAM: Just like your mother. Can't get a straight answer. When I was
growing up we learned to respect our elders.

BETTY: Adam, Elizabeth has heard all this before.

ELIZABETH: Many, many, many times.

ADAM: No, I've said it many, many times, but she's never really
heard it.

ELIZABETH: I can quote that speech verbatim.

ADAM: Doesn't mean you've heard it.

ELIZABETH: Just because I've not heeded doesn't mean I haven't
heard. And I've done every bit as well as your daughter.

ADAM:
Betty, tell her not to drag HILLARY: into this.

BETTY: Elizabeth, daughters ought not to be too critical of their
mothers.

ELIZABETH: Works both ways.

ADAM (to BETTY): We didn't fail with Hillary; in many ways, perhaps
too many, she's an extraordinary woman.

ELIZABETH: But she isn't the child you envisioned?

BETTY: What child is?

ELIZABETH: That's my point. You never stop trying to make your
children and your children's children into what you want them to be.

ADAM: Human nature.

ELIZABETH: What is?

ADAM: To want the best for your children and their children.

ELIZABETH: And father knows best, right? Or mother, if you don't have
a father.

BETTY: You mother has done everything for you, Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH: Which is exactly why I've had so much trouble doing
anything for myself! Can't you see that?

(Betty and Adam show some signs of discomfort and concern over such
an emotional outburst.)

BETTY: What is it, Elizabeth? (She goes to her.) Something has you
upset.

ELIZABETH: Oh, god . . .

BETTY: Something about this young man?

(Elizabeth sighs heavily and gets control of her emotions.)

BETTY: What is it, Elizabeth?

(Elizabeth goes to the liquor cabinet then returns to the coffee
table with a bottle of Brandy. She pours a shot into each teacup.)

BETTY: Elizabeth!

ADAM: Leave her be. A little Brandy won't hurt anything.

ELIZABETH: I know it's not formal, but you're both going to need a
drink. So am I.

ADAM: I have a bad feeling about this.

BETTY: You're not . . .

ELIZABETH: Pregnant?

BETTY: Yes.

ELIZABETH: No.

BETTY: Thank god.

ELIZABETH: I'm careful.

ADAM: We don't want to hear this.

BETTY: Yes, we do.

ADAM: Go on, then.

BETTY: What is it, child?

ADAM: If you're not pregnant, it can't be all that bad.

ELIZABETH: Sit down, Papa.

ADAM: I'll do no such thing. By god I was erect when this country
elected a peanut farmer to the Presidency; if I can stand through that
I guess I can stand through anything!

BETTY: You were sloshed, Adam, erect, but horizontal. Now sit down
and drink—your Brandy.

(He sits and drinks.)

ELIZABETH: It's . . . Mother.

BETTY: Hillary?

ELIZABETH: Yes, your daughter, my mother. (A beat.) She's gotten
herself . . . into quite a predicament.

ADAM: Christ! How much?

ELIZABETH: It's not money.

ADAM: Well, if it's not money, it can't be all that bad.

BETTY: Is she in some kind of—trouble?

ELIZABETH: She certainly is!

ADAM: What kind of trouble?

ELIZABETH: The worst—trouble, trouble.

ADAM: Double trouble?

ELIZABETH: Exactly. She is what you suspected I might have been. (A
beat.) She's-

BETTY: Don't say it!

ELIZABETH: Pregnant.

ADAM: She said not to say it!

ELIZABETH: Too late. You can't avoid the issue.

ADAM: Pregnant!

BETTY: My word! How?

ADAM: Who?

ELIZABETH: Nick.

ADAM: Nick!

BETTY: Nick? How could he do this to us?

ELIZABETH: He didn't do it to you.

BETTY: She's 44-years old.

ELIZABETH: Forty three!

ADAM: Hand me the Brandy.

(Elizabeth hands him the bottle.)

BETTY: What are you going to do?

ADAM: Have another drink.

BETTY: About your daughter?

ADAM: My daughter?

BETTY: Hillary! What are you going to do about her?

ADAM: Ground her?

BETTY: You're no help.

ADAM: What can I do? She 44-years old.

BETTY:
She's only 43; don't make it any worse than it already is.

ELIZABETH: Marry her off, Papa—shotgun wedding.

BETTY: This is quite serious, Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH: I know. Mother isn't the first one in the family to have
an unwanted pregnancy.

BETTY: This is different. You hardly expect your-

ELIZABETH: Granddaughter's mother?

BETTY: Yes, your granddaughter's mother. You hardly expect her to get
pregnant, at her age.

ELIZABETH: Particularly if she's single.

ADAM: It's those goddamn liberals!

BETTY: Oh, Adam, for god's sake! Don't start.

ELIZABETH: Which liberals, Papa?

ADAM: All of them!

BETTY: This is a personal problem, ADAM: , not a political one.

ADAM: Liberals are everybody's problem.

BETTY: The only problem here is deciding what to do about Hillary's
predicament.

ELIZABETH: Why do you have to decide anything?

BETTY: Because we're her parents.

ELIZABETH: Not anymore.

BETTY: Elizabeth , you never stop being a parent.

ELIZABETH: If you ever are one.

BETTY (ignoring her comment): I assume she won't want to have this
child.

ELIZABETH: Why not?

BETTY: Well, I just don't think—it would fit—her lifestyle.

ELIZABETH: Or image.

BETTY: Besides, she—she just—can't.

ELIZABETH: Wouldn't fit your image either. Not the one you have of
Hillary or the one you have of yourselves.

BETTY: Don't be impudent.

ADAM: Or so damned perceptive.

ELIZABETH: God! It is so easy to know what to do about somebody
else's pregnancy.

BETTY: What do you think she should do? She's your mother.

ELIZABETH: I won't even pretend to know what she should do, but I
know what she shouldn't do.

ADAM: I suppose I should have a talk with the young man.

BETTY: Nick is not exactly a "young man," Papa.

ADAM: Whatever he is, I probably ought to have a word with him.

ELIZABETH: What on earth for?

ADAM: To ascertain what his plans are.

BETTY: Hillary isn't an adolescent, Adam.

ADAM: Well, she's behaving like one, evidently. The obligations
remain the same nonetheless. And I'm her father. And is a father not
his daughter's keeper?

ELIZABETH: What?

ADAM: Didn't somebody say that?

ELIZABETH: Jesus!

ADAM: That's right, Jesus! He's the one. "Is a father not his
daughter's keeper?"

ELIZABETH: He said nothing of the kind. Jesus didn't even have a
daughter.

ADAM: Well, if he'd had one, he would have said it.

BETTY: Let's not get Hillary mixed up with Jesus.

ELIZABETH: Mother couldn't be any more mixed up than she already
is.

BETTY: And it's our-obligation to-to help.

ELIZABETH: In what way?

ADAM: In any way we can.

(The door opens, and Hillary breezes in carrying a couple of bags of
groceries.)

ELIZABETH: Ah, the prodigal daughter returns.

ADAM: Shall I slay the fatted calf?

(Hillary puts the bags on the counter then crosses to give her mother
a peck on the cheek.)

HILLARY (to ADAM): No fatted calf, but there is a codfish in one of
those bags that needs cleaning. You can do that. (A beat. Then to
Elizabeth.) Where were you last night?

ELIZABETH: Sex orgy in the jock dorm at BC.

HILLARY: Fun?

ELIZABETH: Had a ball.

HILLARY: I don't believe that for a moment.

ELIZABETH: You probably wouldn't believe the truth, so I told you a
lie. Now we know where we stand. (A beat.) You weren't home either,
so how'd you know I wasn't.

HILLARY: I called.

ADAM: Filleted or steaked?

HILLARY: Filleted, please.

ELIZABETH: That's how I knew you were out. I called to tell you I
wouldn't be home. I didn't want you to worry.

HILLARY: Were you out with the outlaw?

ELIZABETH: Outlaw!

ADAM: Do you say, "outlaw?"

ELIZABETH: He's not an outlaw.

HILLARY: He said he was.

ELIZABETH: He said he was related to an outlaw.

ADAM: I won't have my granddaughter cavorting with outlaws.

ELIZABETH: I wasn't cavorting.

BETTY: She wasn't cavorting.

ADAM: What were you doing?

ELIZABETH: That's a personal matter.

ADAM: Not if it was with an outlaw!

ELIZABETH:
For god's sake, he's not an outlaw! He's a-a football
player.

BETTY: Oh my god! That's worse than an outlaw. Elizabeth
—a—a—football player, my word!

ELZABETH: Actually, he's a brilliant and sensitive young man who
just happens to play football. Now stops this nonsense. This
subterfuge isn't fooling anyone, Mother.

HILLARY: Subterfuge is it?

ELIZABETH: Isn't it? Something to keep us all from facing
the-real issue?

HILLARY: The issue, yes; you clever girl. (A beat.) You must have
already told them the wonderful news.

[end of extract]

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