“The
Days Are Drawing In”
(In
three scenes)
By
Johnny
Culver
917
691 6884
Characters
Edwina Huffington, a
plump girl of twenty.
Mother Huffington, her
stocky, stern mother.
Second Cousin Harriet
Scene
One
An
empty, stuffy dining establishment off Ladies Mile, New York City, a stifling,
hot summer afternoon in 1895.
EDWINA and her MOTHER
enter, carrying parcels. They survey the empty room.
MOTHER
(Points
to table with her parasol, then barrels towards it)
Over
here, Edwina, we can look out the window while we dine. Come along. No dawdling
now. This humidity is terrible. It took all strength I had to open that sticky
restaurant door.
(Edwina
shuffles clumsily thru the empty room, her long skirt banging into empty
chairs)
Edwina,
please! Be more careful! My, we can’t take you anywhere, can we? If you
could only be a little more delicate in your movement, why, you nearly crushed
that poor sales clerk back in the sheet music department at Best and Company!
(Looks
about)
Oh,
my, no server to pull out our chairs? I hope the food here is not nearly as lax
as the service! They are open all hours of the day and all night, seven
days a week. That’s what the sign
outside said. Perhaps it is busier at other times of the day or night.
(Pulls
out her own chair, then plops gracelessly in seat, putting her water jug on the
table)
This
empty jug of water is just as heavy as it is full…oh dear, the dishes have not
been cleared! I’ll think twice before visiting this establishment, but it is
close to the streetcar. We’ll back home in Brooklyn before long -
(She
starts to get up, then stops)
No,
I did want to sit near the window and gaze out upon the street. All the finery,
the lovely ladies…
(Takes out piano music)
And look at my new
piano sheet music.
(Sits
back down and snaps her fingers at Edwina)
Edwina
Huffington, come here and sit! Looking out the window will do you good. Just
sit and we can watch all the lovely refined young ladies stroll past. Maybe
you’ll get somewhat of an education, as you watch them and take note of their
posture and grace – Sit!
(Edwina
pulls out chair and sits ungracefully)
What an ox you are,
Edwina. My word. We’ll never find a young man to court
you, if you plan on exhibiting those kinds of manners. Terrible
manners. No wonder you hide in your bedroom all day and night, with
those terrible manners…
(Looks
around)
No
one to clear the table? I’ll just have to do it myself.
There may be a very small gratuity left under the butter dish today…
(Takes
plates and stacks them on Edwina’s side of the table.)
There!
Now I have a clean place to enjoy my light meal. A nice kidney pie, I think,
and a nice iced tea…
(She
looks around room, thinking)
You
know, Edwina, I think I have been here before. Dined
here before, with my second cousin, a few years ago. Around Christmas
time. My second cousin Harriet, from East Astoria, that
dreadful village in the middle of nowhere. Queens, what a miserable
place, swamps, mud--
(Edwina begins to look through the
stacked plates)
You
remember her…short, plump, not too bright, no one courting her back then, no
“suitor”…a little like you are now, I believe.
(remembering)
We
had just come up from Fourteenth Street, a lovely piano recital at the Lyric,
called “The Days are Drawing
In”, and walked all the way up here. The wind was howling and the snow was
piling up everywhere and the railcars were clattering overhead on Sixth Avenue.
I snuggled right up to Harriet, as we walked, both of us wrapped tight in her
fur coat, singing Christmas Carols.. I told her that
my new housekeeper, Gertrude McGinty, would be waiting, back home in Brooklyn,
with a nice fire, hot chocolate and warm blankets.
(Angry)
But
Harriet, as usual, wanted to stop and get a bite to eat and eat and eat……we
didn’t get home and back to Gertrude for hours.
The
fire was out, the hot chocolate was cold and Gertrude was asleep on the floor, tangled
in our blankets, clutching her empty flask, like a drunken sailor!
(Wipes her brow)
Of
course, I’d rather be where Harriet is right now, out in the middle of a nice
breezy nowhere, in East Astoria, instead of in this suffering heat. She has trees and farmland all around her,
and she and her husband can walk right to Bowery Bay Beach –
(Snaps at her daughter)
Edwina
Huffington, leave those plates alone! The server will be her any minute. Just
sit back and enjoy that overhead fan. This city gets hotter every summer,
Edwina. Even Brooklyn is hot, not at all like what it used to be.
(Edwina chooses a plate and lifts
it, looking intently at the remains)
You’re
too young to remember, Edwina, but when I was a little girl – before you were
born, so how could you remember? Before that terrible war in the South, we would
go to the beach too. Pack up our big cooking pot early in the morning and get
to the shore by noontime. It was so cool and breezy, that clean salt air.
Father would dig for clams and oysters, Mother made a big fire and we would
cook them in a big pot. I would lie in the sand and look at my piano sheet
music, in the sun. Then nap and dream about becoming a famous piano player.
(Remembers fondly)
I
had such ambition back then; I practiced my piano every chance I could get. Early in the morning until late at night. Up the scales and
down the scales and up the scales and…
(Snaps back to the present)
Well,
then we’d pack up and be back at home before midnight. I was too sunburned to
sleep; I was in pain for days and days after. Couldn’t work on my piano lessons,
nothing! There was not a note of piano music in that house for a week.
(Pause)
Then,
the next week, we would do it again. All summer long. Father would pack…
(Thinks)
Funny,
now that I think about it, we could have saved so much time back then, if Father
just went to the sea market around the corner from our house, purchased a
bushel of clams and oysters, brought them back home. Mother could have put the
clams and oysters in to the cooking pot right there and I could have stayed
inside and worked on my piano lessons. Cool and happy.
(Edwina begins to lick the plate in
her hand)
My
skin would be nice and cool, and Mother and Father would enjoy the sound of my
piano playing as they enjoyed their clams and – Edwina! Stop that this instant!
(Bangs on table)
Stop
it! What an embarrassment you are! You’d be better off locked away! Maybe we
should put you on the next ferry over to that Blackwell’s Island, along with
the other people who are wrong in the head. I’ll have Gertrude contact them as
soon as…stop it this instant!
(Bangs on table again. Edwina slowly puts down plate)
Why
on earth to you continue to do that, especially here in public!
EDWINA
(Blunt but polite)
To
shut you up, Mother. For one minute,
that’s all I ask. Stop talking about the heat, your piano lessons, your second
cousin, , Gertrude McGinty, ME, the lovely ladies on
the street. You wonder why I stay in my bedroom all day and night, Mother. Why
I take my meals in my bedroom and not with you?
MOTHER
Maybe
we should not call you Edwina, but Nellie Bly! I’ll send you off to Blackwell’s
Island with all those sick and crazy women.
EDWINA
(Continuing her thought)
And
to get away from you and your piano playing.
Day and night, night and day. You pay more attention
to your sheet music than me!
(directly)
Even
Gertrude, gets more attention!
MOTHER
(a bit
shocked)
Well,
I never thought I’d hear this.
(Takes date book out of her bag)
I
must have forgotten to mark this day in my day planner. I must be too involved with
my piano playing. I must be spending too much time reprimanding Gertrude
McGinty.
(Angrily rites in book)
“Tuesday August 18th
1896, my lovely daughter Edwina Huffington will forget to mind her tongue in
public AND in front of her own mother.”
EDWINA
(Stands)
Let
us return home, mother. The heat is getting to both of us. The ferry ride will do us good. It is just
too hot-
(Notices piece of paper attached to
Mothers back)
Mother,
something has stuck itself to the back of your dress.
MOTHER
(Haughtily)
Perhaps
it is what remains of the knife you tried to stab me with, with your evil
words.
EDWINA
No,
Mother. It’s a-
(Pulls paper from Mothers back)
-note,
Mother.
(Reads)
“Due to the extreme heat, we are
closing abruptly for the day. We regret any inconvenience this suddenness may
have caused you.” Mother, you must have pushed open the
door, broken the lock. We are …intruders!
MOTHER
There
was no lock on the door! They are open all hours of the day and all night, seven
days a week. What would they need…with…a…lock…
(Looks around)
Oh
my, we are intruders! We have to leave, at once! If we are discovered, we’ll be
considered thieves and be sent off to Blackwell’s Island for sure! The
intruders ward!
(She stands)
Let’s
leave right away, Edwina.
(Picks up jug of water)
But
first, Edwina, be a dear and fill your mothers water just from those water
pitchers on each table. No senses letting good water go to waste. NO sense
parching ourselves on the streetcar and on the ferry back to Brooklyn.
EDWINA
(Takes jug and heads to each table
pouring water into the jug)
Mother,
can I tell you a secret? Something I have never told anyone else, ever before.
MOTHER
Are
you going to raise your voice to me when you tell me? Be rude?
EDWINA
No,
mother and I am sorry about how I spoke before.
Forgive me.
MOTHER
I
forgive you dear. Now, tell me your secret. I adore
secrets! Once, my cousin, Harriet, she told me the most delicious secret about
her brother, Clem. It seems that Clem was in the woodshed one afternoon, and
the woodman came by to deliver a cord of wood. Well, Harriet needed some
kindling for the kitchen stove, so she went to the woodshed, only to find-
EDWINA
Mother!
Not that kind of secret!
(Continues to fill up jug)
Well,
you know that I stay in my bedroom most of the time I am at home.
MOTHER
This
isn’t about my piano playing, again, is it? How much more do you want to hurt
your mother?
EDWINA
No,
well not really. Mother, when you are in the parlor playing your piano, well,
the music puts me to sleep.
MOTHER
The
soothing sounds of the melodies created by my fingers on the keyboard…
EDWINA
(Ignoring her)
And
when I fall asleep, I have this dream, the same dream over and over again, most
of the time.
MOTHER
The
playing of the notes on my sheet music make you dreams…aaah…
EDWINA
(Ignoring her)
In
this dream, I am near a cliff and there is a wooden walkway going up to the
cliff. And there are people lined up on the wooden walkway, waiting their turn.
The walkway is whitewashed, very clean.
MOTHER
Do
you hear my music in your - waiting in line? In a dream?
How silly you are, Edwina. Hurry up with my water jug, let’s be going.
EDWINA
(Ignoring her)
They
are waiting their turn to jump! Jump off the cliff. In the dream, I go up to
someone, a well dressed woman and ask her why she is in line to jump, and she
tells me that she and the rest of the people are so rich; they have so much
wealth…I can’t explain it. I may have to visit this dream again…they are so
rich that if they have nothing to do that day. They can jump off the cliff into
the next day! They pay to jump into the next day. But they are never seen
again.
MOTHER
(Gathering her things)
No
one can do that in a dream. No matter how wealthy they are. You need to open a
window in your bedroom. Get some fresh air.
EDWINA
(Returning to mothers table)
And
in the dream, I walk a little further, away from the cliff and there is another
wooden walkway. This walkway is different is broken, faded-
MOTHER
Mustn’t
forget my piano sheet music-
EDWINA
(Hands jug to Mother)
And
in the dream, I walk a little further, away from the cliff and there is another
wooden walkway. This walkway is different is broken, faded, doesn’t lead to the
cliff, but leads to a pile of dirt and rocks. And there are people waiting in
line, just like the other wooden walkway. But these people are poor, dirty,
unwashed-
MOTHER
Edwina,
how vulgar to have such terrible people in your dream.
(Glances out window)
The
heat must have sent everyone indoors. There isn’t a soul on the streets. We’ll
be at the ferry and back in Brooklyn in no time.
EDWINA
Just
like before, I stop a woman waiting on the rickety walkway and ask her why she
is waiting in line. She tells me that the poor people cannot jump into the next
day like the wealthy people can.
MOTHER
That’s
understandable, given their low status.
EDWINA
So
they line up on the walkway and when they get to the end, they jump into the pile
of dirt and rocks, so they can be like the rich people too! After they jump,
they dust themselves off and just go on with their lives.
(Looks directly at Mother)
What
does it mean, Mother, this dream? Every time I sleep. I go back to this same place
and see the same people waiting in line. It is all I want to do, is sleep and
visit these two walkways and watch the rich people and the poor people jump off
the end of each one. I watch them and I feel so frightened. So
unsafe.
MOTHER
I
think it means you are eating too much before going to sleep, Edwina. All that
food is giving you these strange dreams. No wonder you have that bulbous
figure.
(Heads to door)
EDWINA
Then,
when the dream in finished, I slowly become awake, and I hear your piano music
playing in the parlor! And I feel safe.
(Follows Mother)
Perhaps,
the next time I want to dream, I will rest in the parlor, so I can hear your
piano music.
MOTHER
Thank
you, dear, that means so much to me...a poor widow whose days are drawing in…
EDWINA
Tell
me Mother, which walkway would you choose? In my dream, if you were in it.
MOTHER
I’d
choose the walkway with the wealthy people, of course. What do you think money
is for, anyway? I’d jump right into the next day…fly through the air, with my
piano sheet music…
EDWINA
Yes,
and never be seen again!
(Thinks)
I’d
be in line with the poor people, I wouldn’t mind getting a little dirty, a
little scraped, then dust myself off and go on with my life.
MOTHER
What
a pig you are, Edwina, rolling in dirt like that…what an eyesore you’d be. No
gentleman would ever look twice at you…Gertrude was right,
I’ll never be the mother of the bride…
(They Exit)
End of Scene One
Scene
Two
Setting
The Huffington parlor,
Brooklyn, fall 1896
Mother is at the piano, poorly
banging away at the melody of "Sweet Rosie O'Grady". Harriet sits on
the sofa, listening uncomfortably. Mother finishes with a flourish spins around
as Harriet applauds very quietly.
MOTHER
I know it could have
been better, but I just purchased the piano sheet music only a few weeks ago
and I have had NO time to practice with al that’s–
(Stops)
Did you like it? My piano playing?
HARRIET
(Uncomfortable)
I know so little about
music...you must know, we are a little behind the times in East Astoria,
in the middle of nowhere…I’m sure it was lovely…is my coat and hat nearby?
MOTHER
I
don’t know why you live out there, why it takes you an hour just to get to the
Manhattan ferry boat! You should just tell that husband of your to shut down
that...farm… of his and move into New York City proper!
HARRIET
(A
bit terse)
That
husband of mine has heard that East Astoria and Long Island City and all of
Queens County are going to be incorporated into New York City very soon. When
that bridge across the East River is finally built, his farm will be worth
a fortune!
MOTHER
(Stands
and goes to window)
I’ll
believe that when I see it…my, the days are drawing in, aren’t they? It seems
like only yesterday that the days were so long and so warm,
and I had more daylight to practice my piano sheet music, now the afternoon air
comes with a chill, with only hot tea to warm me, a lonely widow.
(Stops)
Where
is Gertrude with that tea? Gertrude! Gertrude McGinty!!
(Heads
toward kitchen door)
If
I catch her outside again, behind the stable, with her flask of whiskey, she’ll
be on the first boat back to Ireland!
(As
she reaches the kitchen door, Edwina comes in from the other side, with a tray
of tea and cookies. They narrowly miss each other)
Edwina, you clod! That
door almost hit your poor mother in the – put the tea down, Edwina. Just put it
down!
(Points
off)
You did hang Cousin
Harriet’s coat in the cloakroom, didn’t you? Do something right?
(Edwina
puts the tea tray down and backs into a lounge chair, sitting gracelessly,
slowly falling asleep)
You
see, Harriet, what I have to put up with…you wouldn’t happen to have a spare
room, back on that farm of yours, would you? If only Mr. Huffington were still
here…still with us…
(Pause)
He died at childbirth
you know. My dear husband Edwin.
HARRIET
I recall.
MOTHER
He took one look at
newborn Edwina and was –
(Sighs)
- at Saint Peters
gates by lunchtime.
(Sighs)
Oh, Edwin Huffington.
(Goes
to tray and begins to pour tea, her bottom awkwardly in the air)
I hope you like these
new tea crackers, Harriet. They come all the way from China.
(Realizes
her ungraceful position)
Oh!
(Sits
next to Harriet)
They’re a bit too rich
for my taste-
(Picks
up two sugar cubes and pops them into her mouth)
These sugar cubes keep
your teeth nice and white. Edwina doesn’t eat sugar cubes, and just look at her
teeth! And Gertrude has so few teeth to worry about keeping them white-
(There
is a door slam from upstairs. The two ladies sit up, startled.)
HARRIET
(Checking
watch)
My, look at the hour!
If I want to get back to East Astoria before sundown, I’d better-
MOTHER
What the - is that
Gertrude? What is she doing now?
(Calls)
Gertrude McGinty! If
you have broken my looking glass, by slamming that door, you’re on the first
boat – I’d better go and see what has happened.
(Stands
and heads to stairs, stopping to wave her hand over Edwina to make she is
breathing, and listens for snoring)
As usual, lazy, good
for nothing……I’ll be right back, Harriet, don’t you go rushing off to East
Astoria just yet! You have to finish your tea
(She
is gone up the stairs. Harriet quickly rises, and rushes thru the kitchen door.
After a short beat, Edwina wakes, and moves from her chair to the piano, where
she slowly begins playing a light simple Chinese melody)
HARRIET
(Returning
with her hat and coat)
I
really must be getting back to the farm, there’s work to be done-
(Spies
Edwina)
Edwina!
(Edwina
stops playing)
That’s just lovely! I
didn’t know you could play the piano!
EDWINA
Mother wouldn’t like me
sitting at her piano.
HARRIET
That
piece. It’s so mysterious…and no piano sheet music?
However do you play?
EDWINA
Second
Cousin Harriet,
may I ask you a question?
HARRIET
Why certainly dear, but
don’t make it a long question, I’d like to get back to the farm before dark.
EDWINA
Why am I called Edwina?
It’s not the most attractive name, but, then again, I am not the most
attractive -
HARRIET
(Changing
subject)
First, you tell me
about that music you were playing on the piano. Where did you learn it?
EDWINA
(Turns
to face Harriet)
I don’t know. Just now,
as I was napping, I had a dream, and this music was in my dream.
HARRIET
You dreamed? But you were
only asleep for a moment or two. How silly, Edwina.
(She
puts on her coat)
EDWINA
And in this dream I was
in a wagon of some kind. I was with a family, a Chinese family, mother, father,
a little girl and an old man –
HARRIET
(Stops
putting on coat)
Chinese
people in your dream? How mysterious! And how cramped!
MOTHER
(Off)
Gertrude McGinty, if I
find you, there will be big trouble in this house! I had better not find you
smoking tobacco in the linen closet!
EDWINA
We
were riding in the wagon, to the seashore, it was almost sundown. And when we
got to the seashore, the old man got out of the wagon and started walking to
the sea, very slowly. I wondered why he was walking to the sea, so I asked the
little girl and she told me.
HARRIET
What
did she say?
EDWINA
I
don’t know. She was speaking Chinese.
HARRIET
(Goes
back to putting coat on)
Well,
that’s a lovely story, Edwina. I don’t want to be around when your mother finds
Gertrude.
EDWINA
Then
a large white seagull perched itself on my shoulder. And the seagull told me
that these people, these Chinese people, well, when a person reaches a certain
age, an old age, the entire family travels to the sea
and they watch the old person walk into the sea and never return.
HARRIET
A
talking seagull!
EDWINA
Then
I looked out towards the old man and he had stopped walking into the sea. He
had turned to face the wagon and he was...he was…
HARRIET
(Listening
intently)
What
dear?
EDWINA
He
was crying. He didn’t want to walk into the sea. He was afraid.
HARRIET
That’s
understandable, this time of year.
EDWINA
And
the family had tears in their eyes and, for some reason; I had tears in my
eyes.
MOTHER
(Off)
You had better not run
off with any of my valuables, Gertrude!! I count the silverware!
HARRIET
(Calmly)
What
about the music, Edwina?
EDWINA
Oh
yes. The music. In this dream, I looked out to the sea
and the setting sun and there was a man, a beautiful young man in a small fishing
boat. He was far away but I could hear him very clearly.
(Waves her hand)
He
was waving his hand to the old Chinese man, calling to him. And, suddenly, the
old Chinese man stopped crying, the family stopped crying. I stopped crying.
HARRIET
(Putting
on hat)
The
music!
EDWINA
Oh
yes. The old man turned back to the sea and walked right in the foamy surf,
right towards the fishing boat and the beautiful young man. And the sun set
right behind them and they were gone.
(Pause)
That’s
when I heard the music. The music was so beautiful. I wanted to play it. To remember it.
MOTHER
(Off)
Gertrude McGinty! Get
out of my bedroom this instant! Who in the world gave you permission to lounge
on my daybed? Edwina? Edwina gave you permission? Why,
of all the-
HARRIET
(Heading
to the front door)
You
can visit me in East Astoria, any time, Edwina. Play whatever you want on MY
piano. Tell your mother I said good bye.
(Opens
door)
MOTHER
(Off)
Edwina
Huffington, I’d like a word with you, this instant!
HARRIET
(Heads
out)
My,
the days are drawing in, aren’t they, such a chill in the air. For once,
your mother was right.
(Goes
out but sticks head back in)
Your
name was chosen long before you were born. You mother had the birth
announcements engraved and addressed months in advance. She and your father were hoping for a boy. A little Edwin to run about the house. To
grow up strong and successful. To make them proud.
But they received a big healthy girl instead. Your mother was so very upset.
After the shock of losing your father that same day, she didn’t have the
strength to have new birth announcements printed, so…
(confesses)
…I
took the announcements and added an A to the end of Edwin on each one, gave them to the post man, and off they went.
So, I confess, I am responsible for your name!
MOTHER
(Off)
Gertrude,
get your filthy boots off my daybed! What kind of house is this? I’m a poor
widow and this is how I am treated?
Edwina, I need you up these stairs right now! If only I had a son! Not
an unattractive good for nothing daughter!
HARRIET
(Looks up at stairs, then at
Edwina)
Pay
your mother no mind, Edwina. You are a very attractive young lady and good for
something.
(She
exits.
EDWINA
Goodbye.
(Pause)
Yes, I am.
Edwina
stands and heads up the stairs as her Mother bellows
on)
End of Scene Two
Scene
Three
Setting
The Huffington kitchen,
Brooklyn, spring 1898, early morning.
Mother,
Edwina and Harriet sit at the kitchen table. Edwina and Mother fold cloth table
napkins. Harriet, bored, sips her tea. She has a small bouquet of wild flowers.
Two large worn suitcases sit near the table.
MOTHER
…so
I return home, last week, after a long day of piano lessons, and I hear voices
right here in the kitchen. Gertrude’s and …a man’s voice!
HARRIET
(Not interested)
How interesting.
(Edwina finishes folding a napkin
into a complicated origami type shape, sets is aside, then starts on another)
MOTHER
Well,
I wouldn’t put it past Gertrude to invite some drunken stranger into our – my
house. To consume alcohol, right in my kitchen! So I raised my parasol above my
head and marched right in here, and you won’t believe what I discovered.
HARRIET
(Not interested)
That your parasol would
not fit through the kitchen door?
(to Edwina)
You fold so nicely,
Edwina dear. Is that a bird?
MOTHER
Anything
would be an improvement over a Gertrude’s napkin folding. I don’t even think
she puts an iron to them. She must take them right from the clothesline, crumple
them into a tight wad and stuff them right into the sideboard drawer.
HARRIET
Tell me, what did you
find when you entered the kitchen?
MOTHER
Well, Gertrude, of
course, and a well dressed, handsome young man with…
(Points to telephone on the wall)
That!
HARRIET
(Trying to change subject)
Oh. Edwina, where did you learn to -
MOTHER
(Excitedly)
He
told me that everyone in Brooklyn was getting them…and they are most
convenient! I had to have it. I have assigned Gertrude the chore of discovering
who is telephoning, then notifying me.
(Excitedly goes to telephone)
You
see, it works like this, you pick up this and press it to your ear and a lovely
young lady – Dorette - makes it possible for you to speak with whomever you
want! Anywhere in Brooklyn! It is quite amazing! It is an invention only for
the most refined, you know.
HARRIET
I understand how it
works…
(Changing subject)
Where is Gertrude this
afternoon? I brought a small bouquet of wildflowers from the farm. They grow
wild all over East Astoria. For the window in her new
bedroom. Upstairs.
MOTHER
I
sent her off on an errand. Into Manhattan. To Best and Company to pick up my new piano sheet music. I
hope she purchases the correct music and not something fit for a saloon…Then
she is heading home – that vulgar Lower East Side where she lives with her
family - to pick up the rest of her things – then return here. It will be nice
to have a live in housekeeper. She’ll be busy all hours.
(The telephone rings loudly; startling
everyone. Mother jumps back)
Oh my! It is loud,
isn’t it!
(Nervously)
And
Gertrude isn’t here! Edwina, discover who is telephoning! It could be a very
important person!
(Fixes her dress)
I’m a mess!
EDWINA
(Stands and goes to telephone and
speaks into mouthpiece without picking up earpiece)
This is the Huffington
residence –
(Mother goes to telephone, lifts
earpiece and holds it to Edwina’s ear, Edwina takes it.)
Oh,
sorry…Huffington residence, Hello Dorette, who is telephoning? Oh yes. I will. Mother it, is Dr. Pew. Do we
– you - wish to speak with him?
MOTHER
(Covering mouthpiece with hand)
Oh
my! He must not know that I am not practicing! Dr Pew is one of the most
respected piano instructors in Brooklyn! He would never take me as a student again!
(She rushes out of the kitchen. A
moment later, terrible piano music is heard from the living room. Mother calls
over the music)
All
right, Edwina, speak with Dr. Pew!
EDWINA
Dr.
Pew, Mother is unable to speak with you. She is busy…practicing her piano sheet
music. Yes, I will remind her. Goodbye Dr. Pew.
(Replaces earpiece and returns to table, and folding napkins).
HARRIET
Edwina,
I‘d like to thank you for coming to live with us in East Astoria for the
summer. Our farm is so busy these days; we can use all the
help we can get.
EDWINA
The
fresh clean air will do me good, Second Cousin Harriet,
Summers in Brooklyn are so very hot.
HARRIET
And
you can look after Little Dudley – I guess he would be your third cousin, if I am
your second cousin and he is the son of Dudley and myself.
(Irritated by the piano music, she
stands and goes to the kitchen door, and shouts)
Goodbye Dr. Pew!
(The piano music stops)
Finally.
(Mother enters)
MOTHER
(enters
holding flask)
Well, that was
close. Gertrude left her filthy flask in
the parlor. Lord knows what goes on when I am not here.
(Points to telephone)
Edwina, be more careful
when you use that. So many refined
people may be trying to contact us. You never know who may be telephoning.
Anyone from the top shelf of society, inviting me to a grand ball or garden
party!
(Points to suitcases)
Harriet,
Edwina has her things packed. Ready to spend the summer with
you out in East Astoria. I’m sure she’ll be busy, taking care of that
boy of yours …what’s his name…Little Dud?
(Admires telephone)
Like
stepping back in time, I imagine. None of the modern conveniences out there,
like we have here.
(Edwina holds up a second
intricately folded napkin)
HARRIET
I think you mean Little
Dudley.
(The
telephone rings again; startling everyone. Edwina drops the napkin she is
folding)
MOTHER
(Mother jumps back, composes
herself, then answers, unsure)
Hello Dorette, who is
telephoning?
(Hands earpiece to Harriet)
The person wishes to
speak to you.
HARRIET
Me? Hello? Yes, I
will….Hello? I see, We’ll be ready. Goodbye.
(Hangs up)
That was Dudley. He
will be here with the carriage by noontime.
(Mother looks at her)
You see, we have a
telephone as well. With all the business we do at the farm. We just can’t live
without it.
MOTHER
Harriet,
let me take you upstairs and show you what I’ve done with the spare bedroom. Made it ready for Gertrude. She’ll be living in luxury,
compared to that trap her family squats in now. I’ll have plenty of chores to
keep her busy, all hours. The cleaning,
the cooking,…
(Holds out flask)
No
time to drink from this flask of hers.
(Urges her on)
Come
along, you have plenty of time until…Dudley arrives.
(Hands flask to Edwina)
Here,
Edwina. Put this away somewhere…hidden away…
(They exit. Edwina puts flask down, picks up a second bird napkin and pretends to make
them fly through the air. Then she carefully puts the birds on the table, and
closes her eyes for a 5 second nap. The
telephone rings again and awakes her)
EDWINA
(Somehow knowing who is calling and
why, she mumbles)
Oh no.
(Picks up Edwina’s flask)
No.
Puts down flask and goes to
telephone, lifts earpiece)
Yes, Dorette, I’ll
speak to them. This is the Huffington residence…yes…yes…yes…thank you. 12 Mulberry Street. Yes..
Goodbye.
(Hangs up. After a short beat, Mothers
enters, followed by Harriet))
MOTHER
Why was calling us on
the telephone, Edwina?
(To Harriet)
Someone
of high stature, no doubt. Or
an invitation to play piano at a fancy party.
EDWINA
It was the police,
Mother. From Manhattan.
HARRIET
The
Police? The Brooklyn police?
MOTHER
My piano playing isn’t
that loud.
EDWINA
The New York City
police, Mother. From Manhattan. There was n
accident…at Best and Company.
MOTHER
Best and Company? Why,
that’s where Gertrude went. To purchase my new piano sheet
music. What has she done now!
HARRIET
What happened? What did
the New York City police tell you?
MOTHER
(Irritated)
It was the Brooklyn
police, Harriet. Listen!
EDWINA
The piano sheet music department
is one the fifth floor –
MOTHER
I know, Edwina, I’ve
been there many times…
EDWINA
It seems that Gertrude
purchased your piano sheet music, Mother, as you instructed, and went to the
elevator door to wait to go down to the street.
MOTHER
(Anxious)
Yes…
HARRIET
(Getting it)
Oh my.
MOTHER
Go on, Edwina. What
happened?
EDWINA
The doors to the
elevator open and Gertrude stepped through…only there was no elevator car to
meet her there…
MOTHER
What?
EDWINA
She fell five stories to
the street level. Your piano sheet music
was scattered around her.
MOTHER
What?
HARRIET
Such
a terrible thing to happen. Just
as she was ready to move in with you. That beautiful new room, all freshly painted…
EDWINA
All the police officers
could find in her handbag was our name and address. That is why they
telephoned. They are going to send an officer to Gertrude’s family and tell
them in person.
MOTHER
(a little
off)
She flew five stories. With my piano sheet music flying behind her. Never to be
seen again.
(Starts to cry)
Oh Gertrude. Gertrude
McGinty.
(Angry through her crying)
Just like you to ruin a
good thing. With your muddy shoes and flask of whiskey.
I knew I couldn’t count on you! You ruin everything!
(Shoves flask to floor)
Oh Gertrude…You will
ruin no more lives as you ruined mine.
(cries
quietly)
EDWINA
I am so sorry, Mother.
I was fond of Gertrude.
MOTHER
Not as fond as I was, Edwina, not nearly as fond as I was.
(Alone in her thoughts)
The days ARE drawing in, aren't they? My days.
First Edwin, so long ago. And now
Gertrude. My poor Gertrude
HARRIET
(Realizes)
Oh, my.
EDWINA
I can stay here for the summer,
Mother, I don’t have to go. You may need help…with the housekeeping, and such.
MOTHER
You go onto East Astoria, Edwina. We
promised second cousin Harriet that you’d help her this summer. I’ll be fine
here. No one around to bother with my piano sheet music.
Just me and my music.
HARRIET
(picking up flowers)
You can come and visit us in East Astoria any time. Me,
Edwina, Dudley and Little Dud, er, Dudley You are
always welcome. For a bite to eat.
EDWINA
Do visit, Mother. Second cousin
Harriet has a piano in her parlor. Bring your piano sheet music. You could play
for us. And have a bite to eat. We could tell stories about Gertrude. Remember
her.
MOTHER
(Sadly)
Gertrude...oh, I couldn't.
HARRIET
Yes, for a bite to eat.
EDWINA
Please, Mother.
MOTHER
Edwina, may I tell YOU a secret? Something I have never told anyone else?
EDWINA
Oh Mother, of course!
(Mother
leans in and whispers to Edwina)
Well?
EDWINA
Mother, that’s no secret! Second Cousin Harriet told me. I
always thought you knew I knew.
(Mother
glares at Harriet)
HARRIET
(Picks
up flask and hands it to Mother)
Well, the way you talked about her every chance you got,
ever since we walked up Sixth Avenue during the snowstorm….you were so eager to
get home.
MOTHER
Oh yes, the recital at the Lyric. “The days are drawing in…”
(Holds
flask)
(The most alone she has ever been in
her life)
Oh Gertrude, my dear Gertrude.
EDWINA
Let’s go into the
parlor, Mother. You can play your piano sheet music for us. And I can take a
short nap and dream. Perhaps I’ll dream about Gertrude, and you.
(They sit quietly. End of Play)