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Production Info . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 1 Scene 1 - The old men meet - Early fall this year . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 1 Scene 2 – Paul and Teresa meet - Jan 1974 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 2 Scene 1 - Angelo and Paul discuss art . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 2 Scene 2 - Date at the Frick - Jan 1974 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 3 Scene 1 - Angelo explains his philosophy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 3 Scene 2 - Date at the beach - July 1974 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 3 Scene 3 - After the art show - May 1975 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 4 Scene 1 - Angelo reveals the truth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 4 Scene 2 - Alice - Feb 1976 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 5 Scene 1 - Goodbyes -Aug 1976 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 5 Scene 2 - Paul confronts Angelo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page Act 5 Scene 3 - Teresa arrives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . page
Cast of Characters, in order of appearance: Angelo, an old man An anonymous young couple Andrea, a young woman Paul, as an older man Teresa, as a young woman Nancy, the bookstore manager Paul, as a young man Three extras in the Frick Art Museum Extras at the beach Teresa, as an older woman Stage Construction: The stage is constructed on two levels. The higher level, upstage, also called “Stage A”, is a few feet above the lower level, downstage, which is also called “Stage B”. Stage A appears as a scene in Central Park, Manhattan, New York. There is a path that goes in front of a long bench which is off to stage right of center. The bench is constructed of wrought iron tracery, so it appears open and airy. Next to the bench, stage right, is an antique, decorative lamp post, with four glass orbs. These lights must be functional. Behind the bench is a backdrop of the trees of the park and the New York City skyline behind that. There should be some lights behind this background screen to show the lights coming on in the windows as night approaches. This level of the stage should appear to be atop a slight rise, overlooking a meadow or flat level below, which will be used as the lawn, beach or interior scenes. Stage A is to remain in view when the lower level shows the park, in the first and last acts. In these cases, the lower stage, Stage B, is simply a meadow; green turf floor cloth could suffice. In the second act the lower stage is arranged as the interior of a bookstore. In the third act it is laid out as a single room in the interior of the Frick art museum. In the fourth act it is made out to be a beach, while in the fifth act it is a dormitory room. The final act returns the setting to the park. In the second to fifth acts a painted folding screen or curtain can be used to separate the two spaces. In the bookstore scene, an open doorway should be provided in this backdrop, in close proximity to the counter. Description of Characters: Angelo is an old man, about sixty-five. He is a tall fellow, about six foot two, and is elegantly dressed in a long, dark overcoat. Although visibly aged, he is trim and fit, with full dark hair. His clothes identify him as a man of some stature. He speaks in a refined, cosmopolitan manner. He is a thoughtful man, wise and widely experienced. His gestures are smooth and graceful. He is naturally charming, and comes across as friendly and genuinely concerned for others. Paul as an old man is sixty. He is considerably shorter than Angelo, about five foot eight. Paul is more casually dressed in casual blue pants, the color a close match to Teresa’s skirt in the last scene. He also wears a lighter toned sports jacket over a white shirt. His hair is fairly well grayed. His look is almost rumpled, more careless than sloppy. He shows his age more. He speaks with a mild but distinct New York or New Jersey accent. His movements are slower, slightly stiff and awkward. His disposition seems reserved, and slightly sad. Paul always enters and exits stage left. As much as possible, all other characters exit and enter stage right, When Paul and Teresa enter together, it is always from the left. The anonymous young couple in the park are just twenty, and act in a lively and animated fashion. They are clearly in love, very attentive to each other, and are enjoying the day and each others company. The man is dressed casually in colored jeans and shirt, while the woman is wearing a long dress, which is light and airy, flowing to echo the swaying movement of the kite. Andrea is a young woman who is tall and well endowed, with long flowing auburn red hair. She is wearing a bright orange bikini top and short cut off denim shorts with frayed threads hanging from the cut. There is a tattoo of a green parrot low on her right breast. She is from San Francisco, California. She’s about twenty-six years old. Teresa as a young woman is nineteen, with wavy auburn hair. It’s not a strong red color, more blond than red. She is Paul’s height or slightly shorter, about five foot six or so. She is attractive, but not stunningly beautiful. She has a natural complexion, with Mediterranean skin tones. Her outfit changes as indicated in each scene, but she is always neat and well tended, even when dressed casually. Her accent is stronger, and identifies her as being from New York City. Her tone of speech is plain and earthy. Her disposition is always active and energetic, and happy. She has a very friendly, assertive personality, warm and even flirtatious. She has a quick smile, and expresses her emotions readily. Her movements show the style and flourish of her outgoing, spontaneous personality. She comes across as carefree, and enjoys life and its activities. Nancy is a woman of forty. She is somewhat taller than Teresa or Paul, about five nine. She is dressed casually but neatly, in darker colored slacks and matching blouse. She wears some makeup and jewelry. Her tone is friendly and warm. She is polite, and not at all authoritative. She has a Midwestern or west coast accent, so is not a native New Yorker. She thinks of Teresa as the daughter she always wanted, and is a bit of a matchmaker. Paul as a young man is also nineteen, with short, straight dark brown hair, neither disheveled nor neatly combed. His clothing is as described in each scene, but it is clear he does not put much effort into his appearance. His speech is generally careful and deliberate. His personality is reserved, though not aloof. He tries to be friendly, but it is a visibly conscious action. His gestures are restrained, not sweeping. His smile is sometimes genuine but at other times his expressions are bland or contrived. His accent is more neutral. The extras at the Frick Art Museum and the beach are dressed appropriately. Teresa as an older woman also shows her age, but she has maintained her innate beauty. Her hair color has not changed very much. She carries herself with a practiced, stately bearing. She is wearing a neat and stylish blue business skirt and a white blouse with a fuzzy sweater. The color of the sweater is close to the color of Paul’s pants. Her tone of speech has become more formal. She is now at bit more thoughtful and ponderous, no longer carefree. Act One Scene 1 ANGELO sits on the park bench on the upper stage, stage A, overlooking the meadow below. He holds a book in his hand, and reads a bit at a time, then looks around him, especially to stage left, before returning to the book. A young couple centered in the middle of the lower stage, stage B, is enjoying the day in the park, flying a kite. They are casually dressed, with the woman wearing a light breezy dress, to echo the motion of the kite. On the stage, off to the edge of stage left, upstage, an attractive red-headed woman plays frisbee with a partner who is off stage. PAUL enters upstage from stage left, walks along the path to just stage left of center stage, and sees the couple flying the kite. He looks at them for awhile, then begins walking over to the bench, still watching the couple. From offstage, the frisbee comes flying over, just past the girl’s reach, and hits the elder PAUL. He turns in surprise, takes a step backwards, and trips over his own feet, falling down. Immediately the girl comes running over to him, and ANGELO gets up from the bench to assist. ANDREA (She kneels down beside PAUL, upstage, so she is facing the audience. There is concern in her voice.) Dude! Are you hurt? Is everything all right? PAUL (PAUL turns to face her, still off balance, and bumps into her breasts, then turns halfway away, embarrassed. Overlapping, and stammering.) Oh, excuse me. I’m sorry, miss. I’m fine. ANGELO By this time ANGELO has walked over, and bends down to assist. Are you sure? Let us help you up. ANGELO takes PAUL’s right arm, and the girl takes PAUL’s left arm, and puts her other arm around PAUL’s back for a good grip, pressing herself against him. PAUL is turned towards her by this motion, confronts her breasts again, and turns away. They help lift him to his feet. ANDREA Looking quickly around. Should I get help? Where’s all the cops around here? PAUL Still very embarrassed, and facing Angelo, unable to look in the girl’s direction, and a bit unsteady in his speech, as well as on his feet. I tripped over my own clumsy feet. I’m all right. Please, don‘t bother about me. ANGELO (Speaking to ANDREA.) I think our friend is more affected by your charms than by his fall. Let’s take him over to the bench. They begin their slow walk to the bench. PAUL I’m fine, really. Nothing’s hurt but my pride. ANDREA Here, lean on me. You might of hurt your back and not know it. ANGELO (To PAUL.) You rest a bit here, and we’ll see. (To ANDREA.) I think he’ll be all right. I’ll see to it that he’s taken care of. ANDREA That’s kind of you. Are you sure? ANGELO Yes, it’s no trouble, don’t worry. By this time, they are over at the bench, and they ease Paul down onto the center of the seat. Angelo and the girl stand up straight, facing each other. Forgive me, we haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Angelo. He extends his hand gracefully. She reaches out to shake his hand, but instead he holds her hand in his fingers, as if he might bow and kiss it instead of a handshake clasp. After a moment, he releases her hand. ANDREA Smiling broadly at Angelo, placing her hand on her chest just below the neck. I’m Andrea. ANDREA turns and looks at PAUL, who offers an embarrassed smile, but does not speak. She swings her hand down to her side, and turns to face ANGELO again. ANGELO To Andrea. Bowing slightly. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. You are from California, aren’t you? ANDREA Looking back at Angelo, surprised. Yeah, how did you know? ANGELO Your accent is distinctive. Plus, the little parrot tattoo you have is definitely a west coast style. She looks down at the tattoo on her right breast, then back at Angelo, and smiles. Angelo holds her gaze, keeping his eyes on hers. I have some business interests in So-Cal, so I’m familiar with such things. ANDREA Oh, I’m from the bay myself. ANGELO Remarkable. As it happens, I must go out to San Francisco next month. I’ve been to L.A. and San Diego a few times, but I still don’t feel that I’m really in touch with the people who live up north. For this new venture, I must understand the views and needs of the natives, not cater to the tourists. Perhaps we can share a dinner, you and I, and you can enlighten me on their perspective. Paul looks back and forth between Andrea and Angelo. ANDREA Excitedly. Paying no attention to Paul whatsoever. Yeah, sure. I’d love to talk about California with you. Bitchin’, dinner sounds great. What the hell. ANGELO Angelo places his hand on her right shoulder. Splendid. Come by here again tomorrow. We’ll meet at about this same time, and I’ll tell you how our friend is doing. We’ll pick a place to eat then. ANDREA OK dude. I’ll see you tomorrow then. ANDREA flashes a big smile, and laughs. She turns and dashes over to pick the frisbee up from the ground, then runs off with a bouncing step to stage left, upstage. She throws the frisbee offstage, then turns, and exits downstage right. ANGELO In a happy and very familiar voice. And now for you, my friend. Are you feeling better? PAUL Astonished, Paul looks at Angelo with disbelief. How did you do that? ANGELO Chuckles. You mean the girl? Her body language was an open book, an illustrated book you might say. So, I took a little gamble; she could have been from Florida, not that it would have mattered if she were. PAUL But the coincidence, your trip next month, and meeting her like this. ANGELO Nothing surprising about it at all. I have business matters to attend to all over the country. If she was from Texas, I’d have been going to Dallas instead. I could look into one or the other, it’s all the same. So you see, it’s easily understood. PAUL And that parrot. How did you notice that? ANGELO Laughing. I should ask how you missed it. You were closer to it than I was. PAUL Stands and stretches. Well, no need to concern yourself with me. I feel fine, only a bruised ego. Still, sir, you have my admiration. I do not understand how you did that so quickly. (PAUL looks out at the couple flying the kite, quietly, for a few moments. Then he gestures towards them.) PAUL Here, what do you think of her. Could you seduce that girl as well? ANGELO Ah, I noticed you watching them before. No, that would be quite impossible. A completely different situation. PAUL How so? What do you see? ANGELO Andrea was alone, but playing with a group. I doubt if she even knows them; none of them came over to assist her when you fell, and she might have needed their help. Notice that she did not rejoin them; didn’t even stop to say goodbye. She has other things on her mind, and they’re not part of it. Now, that couple is attentive to each other. Notice how close they are, focused on each other, hardly even looking at their kite. Ah, how young love soars, even on the slightest breeze. PAUL Pardon me? ANGELO The kite, it is a symbol of their spirit. It dances in the sky to celebrate their love. See how the girl allows her dress to billow against her friend. Pay attention to how they linger when they touch, each small contact a caress. They are in love with each other, with the joys of life. To her, I would be nothing but an old man. PAUL Paul turns and leans against the back of the bench. I suppose so. Umm, Iam still a bit unsteady. Do you mind if I rest here? ANGELO (Extending his hand to Paul.) Please, I insist upon it. I’d enjoy the company. My name is Angelo. PAUL (Shakes Angelo’s hand.) Yes, I heard. My name is Paul. Thank you. (PAUL looks around.) PAUL This is my special spot in the park, and I would enjoy staying for just a little while. ANGELO nods his head, and swings his left arm as a suggestion that PAUL sit down, supporting him as he sits, then sits himself. ANGELO take out a cigarette, and offers one to PAUL, who declines. ANGELO lights his own. ANGELO picks up the book that is on his right side. PAUL sits on ANGELO’s left. PAUL is quiet for a moment, watching the couple. There is a brief pause in the conversation. The boy flying the kite hands the string to the girl, and faint laughter can be heard. ANGELO This is the best time of the year, when everything bursts open with the colorful approach of autumn, yet the air is still warm and lingers of summer pleasures. Don’t you agree? PAUL Hmm? Oh well, I used to enjoy all the seasons, but now the winters chill me to the bone. So I visit my son and his family down south when it gets too cold; I’ll be going back down to see them again quite soon. Then, when I’ve outlasted my welcome, I visit my daughter and her kids in Phoenix. ANGELO Ah, the west. Marvelous part of the country. Mountains rising up as monuments to eternity. Canyons that allow us to touch the past. Deserts that put you right up against the sun. PAUL You are a very poetic person. ANGELO Not me. The poetry is in the land. You walk around and it clings to you, you breath it in. The land is music, and the echos stay with you forever. PAUL You travel a great deal I gather. ANGELO Yes, I’m always in motion from one place to another. I’ve seen every state in the country at least twice. I’ve also spent time overseas, in Europe, South America, and Australia. Someday soon I’ll spend a few months in Asia. Have you explored the world? PAUL No, I’m not an adventurer myself. The times I’ve traveled were discomforting, as if a part of me didn’t belong, like I wasn’t really there. A most unpleasant sensation. I’m not sure the feelingever completely leaves me, even at home. ANGELO I have never felt like that, couldn’t tolerate to feel like that. Every place I’ve ever been has seemed like home to me, although I happen to live in this city. PAUL Why here? ANGELO My family settled here from the old country, over a century ago. I keep coming back to this city, as the majority of the family still lives here, or nearby on Long Island. PAUL You have a big family? ANGELO Yes, it’s very extended, very traditional. Many generations; cousins, aunts and uncles. I heard you have two children. How many grandchildren? PAUL I havethree children. One is still here in the city. He and his wife have a place midtown. They’ve no kids yet. Between the twins I’ve got five grandchildren. Otherwise it is a small family. No cousins; just us. And you, any kids? ANGELO I never had any children myself, never had the time nor inclination to marry. Too many other experiences in life to enjoy. My sister has a daughter, but I don’t get to see her often these days. There is a brief pause in the discussion. The couple flying the kite move to stage left. ANGELO You said this was a special place. Do you come here often? PAUL No, only on occasion. Well, long ago, someone I cared about loved this place. We came here a lot back then. My memories here are bittersweet, yet I am drawn to it, like visiting a cemetery. The pain still lingers. PAUL Paul tries to change the topic, as if to avoid speaking the thoughts that occur to him. He points to stage left, downstage. You can see the lake from here. And, it is so active, so busy with everything; people playing, street musicians, restaurants, museums, bookstores. Sometimes, there used to be a cart selling pretzels just up the walk, and the smells from the charcoal and the dough would drift over to us. Paul pauses. He inhales deeply, seeing if the memory of the scent is still present in the air. The idea of the smell brings forward all his other thoughts that cannot be suppressed. Paul speaks slowly, reflectively. PAUL When I was younger, I met her in a bookstore just a few blocks from here. I haven’t seen her in such a very long time. ANGELO (Interested, becoming very attentive to PAUL’s words. ANGELO begins to encourage PAUL to speak, indirectly.) Interesting. A good book is a good friend. I am rarely without one. PAUL May I see it? You can tell a lot about a man by the kinds of books he reads. (ANGELO passes the book to PAUL.) PAUL Hmm,Essays on Aesthetics. Well, Sartre on Tintorretto. Very impressive. I knew Sartre was a philosopher, but didn’t know he wrote about art. Are you a philosopher? ANGELO No. But I appreciate art. I have a few pieces in my collection. PAUL A Tintorretto? ANGELO No, I don’t have one of his. They’re mostly unknown artists, with a few exceptions. All are quite good, even if some are not famous. PAUL I used to paint myself, before I got old. ANGELO Well, many people who don’t deserve the title say they are artists. Were you any good? What was your work like? PAUL I did some wildlife, especially big cats and hawks. Swift, powerful creatures they are, always alert, always intense. I also painted landscapes, if I could get the painting to tell a worthwhile story. That was very rare. I never cared for pictures that were just decoration, so if those painting didn’t measure up, I’d just scrap them, didn’t even want to give them away. You want a pretty picture, go buy a postcard. Art has to have something more; has to be alive—and have a soul. Tintorretto knew that. ANGELO And you say I’m poetic. What do you really mean by paintings being alive? PAUL My hawk drawings weren’t just documentation of a specimen. The drawings had to show life in the eyes of the bird. This was so important, I would draw the eyes first, almost completely finish them before starting anything else, and if that eye didn’t look like it couldsee you, seethrough you, I’d throw the paper away and start again. Only then would I bother working to complete the rest of the drawing. When looking at my hawk drawings, you had to be able to feel the hunger in the bird’s talons, the force of the wind in it’s wings. If it didn’t have that, it was just wallpaper, nothing more. ANGELO Well now, that sounds intriguing. Have you painted portraits? That is therealtest of an artist. PAUL Yes, I’ve done some. Why, you want to commission one? (ANGELO shakes his head no.) PAUL Ah, that’s the way it always is. Everybody talks about art, but nobody wants to buy. Doesn’t matter, I wasn’t serious anyway. Pause. PAUL Well, I should be going. Haven’t had my supper yet, and the Park Pub gets too noisy later on. ANGELO Please, stay a bit longer. I have to wait here anyway, and I so rarely get to talk about art any more. Tell me what you think is important in a successful portrait. PAUL For a successful portrait, a flattering likeness is the key. People aren’t always happy with something too realistic. It’s hard to make the sitter look attractive and still capture a personality sometimes, but character was more expendable. However, a good portrait, that’s different. A good portrait is all about character. It shows the sitter just as they are, and how they feel, and how the artist feels about them. It was always curious, but in those portraits, I almost fell in love with every face I painted. (PAUL gazes at the couple with the kite, who now sit on the lawn.) PAUL Art is like that. You focus on the subject intently. It absorbs you, demands your full attention, all of your effort and imagination and honesty. You try with all your might to do whatever you can to make everything turn out just right. Like they say, art imitates life. Isn’t that what love between two people is about? Of course, love doesn’t always end up the way you want. At least when you’re painting, and it turns out all wrong, you can simply throw it away and start another picture. ANGELO Do you know our lovebirds? PAUL No, they remind me of someone I once knew. ANGELO The girl from the bookstore, of course. And yourself, yes? PAUL ( PAUL says TERRY’s name quietly, as if to himself.) Yes, forty years ago. Terry. I’d meet her at work, and we’d often come here to the park for lunch. ANGELO Leans back, speaking in a casual tone again. Tell me about her. I’d very much like to hear the story . . . The couple on the lawn get up, and the girl lets go of the string of the kite, which goes flying off stage left. “Oh, I lost it!” can be faintly heard in the woman’s voice, as if from a distance. They go running after it, laughing. The lights dim, then go out. Scene 2 The lights on the upper stage, stage A, stay very dim. The lower stage, stage B, is now a plain bookstore, with open wooden shelves lining both sides, and a table made from 2x4's and plywood covered with books in the center, forward. On stage left is a wood panel counter with an old style cash register, and on the wall stage right is an upright piano. There is a door in the back wall, leading to a room under the upper stage, which opens to the area directly behind the counter. The scene opens with TERESA as a young girl behind the counter looking through some books, and PAUL as a young man enters to the sounds of bells jingling from the door. All of the characters in this scene are dressed very plainly and comfortably; NANCY is in a casual pants suit, PAUL and TERESA are in jeans. TERESA’s blouse is strongly patterned, PAUL’s shirt is a solid light color. TERESA Her voice is animated and friendly. Hello. PAUL Hi. Nice bookstore you have here. Mind if I look around? TERESA (Gestures to the table.) Yeah, actually, I do mind. So just close your eyes and pick a book without looking. PAUL What? TERESA Go ahead, try it. PAUL Uh, OK. TERESA What’d ya get? PAUL The Economy of Feudal England. TERESA It’s half off. PAUL Nah, that’s not my kind of book. What’s with all this goofy stuff, picking books without looking? TERESA Just my way of saying hi to a new customer. OK, you can keep your eyes open. Take any book off the table, and I’ll give ya half off. PAUL Gee, thanks. Do you have art books? TERESA Not on the table. Over there. The two shelves over the piano. PAUL Thanks. PAUL walks over to the books, pulls one off the upper shelf and flips through it. NANCY comes on stage from the back door and goes behind the counter. She has a quiet conversation with TERESA. NANCY Did Mr. Estes bring in those books this morning? TERESA Yeah. Some of them aren’t in such good shape. NANCY How many were there? TERESA About twenty I guess. NANCY Did you get them shelved yet? TERESA No, I thought you’d want to take a look at the beat up ones first. NANCY Good, dear. I’ll give them a careful look. Could you stack the others? TERESA Sure. I’ll do that right now. TERESA picks up an armload of books and goes over down stage of the piano, placing books on the shelves. PAUL puts back the first book, but is looking at TERESA as he takes another off the shelf. It falls onto the piano keys, making a discordant sound, and TERESA turns to him quickly. TERESA (Sharply and angrily.) Hey! Watch my piano! (She reaches across the keyboard, which pushes PAUL back somewhat, and closes the cover over the piano keys with a thud.) PAUL (Pulls his arms in towards himself, defensively.) Geez . . . sorry . . . it slipped. I couldn’t reach. TERESA That’s OK. I usually keep the cover closed; must’ve forgot. Besides, this old thing’s used to gettin’ pounded. PAUL What’s a piano doing in a bookstore anyway? TERESA Nancy likes me to play when it gets quiet in here. And I get the practice. NANCY Oh, she plays beautifully. Would you like to hear something? Terry, dear, play something for the nice boy. TERESA sits down, slides back the cover, and plays a short, fast-paced Chopin etude, #11 in A minor, with the slow introductory notes. She fools around; the first slow introductory notes are played hesitatingly and uncertainly, but then her playing becomes crisp and precise. PAUL With sincere enthusiasm. Wow, that’s awesome. Do something else. TERESA looks over to NANCY, who nods and smiles, then quietly returns to the back room. TERESA launches into a vigorous rendition of Joni Mitchell’s song “Conversation” from the Ladies of the Canyon album, a bit faster and jazzier than the original. The music is played very expressively, the guitar chords embellished for piano. But the singing lacks dynamic range, and TERESA doesn’t hit the high notes correctly. The last line is sung way off key. However, the strength of emotion is there. After singing the first stanza, TERESA giggles, then stops sheepishly. TERESA "He comes for conversation TERESA Tossing her head and shrugging her shoulders. I’m afraid I don’t sing very well. PAUL Paul is very impressed, and forgets his shyness for the moment. He speaks energetically. You’re great. Did you write that? TERESA Teresa is amused at Paul’s ignorance of the song, and also flattered. No, silly. That was Joni Mitchell. And I didn’t write the first one either. PAUL In normal tones, not aware his ignorance, nor sounding prideful in his knowledge. Yeah, I recognized that was Chopin. TERESA Teresa looks at him curiously, surprised at the identification, and happy at the idea of finding someone to share music with. Oh, do you play then? PAUL No, I’m hopeless at music. But I listen to classical music on the radio when I’m working. I just never heard anybody play like you before. TERESA Teresa stands up and taking a step away from the piano towards Paul, who backs up half a step, then bumps into the bookshelves. Aw, sure you have. PAUL (Shyly, his awkwardness returning.) Well, not standing right next to them anyway. How’d you learn to play so well? TERESA Shrugs her shoulders. I dunno. I’ve just always played. There is a brief, awkward pause. PAUL PAUL speaks nervously and with hesitation. So, your name’s Terry? Mine’s Paul. TERESA In a casual, friendly tone. Nice ta meet ya, Paul. PAUL Yeah, you too. There’s another brief moment of awkward silence. PAUL and TERESA look directly at each other during this time. PAUL is the one who breaks eye contact first, by looking to the side. TERESA Well, I gotta get these books set up. PAUL Uh, OK. TERESA returns to shelving her books. PAUL takes three books off the shelf and goes off to look at books on the other side of the stage. TERESA finishes and goes behind the counter. PAUL takes another book off the shelf and goes over to the counter with four books. He puts the books on the counter for TERESA to ring up. TERESA What’s this one,Dynamics of Cepheid Variables? What’s that mean? PAUL Speaking in an animated way with hand gestures. Cepheids are supergiant stars that have used up their fuel, and they get brighter and dimmer, like clockwork timed by how much mass they have. They can swell up and get really big and really bright, then shrink back down and get fainter, over and over. They’re used to measure the distances between galaxies. TERESA Disbelieving, incredulous. No, they can’t do that. Stars are always the same. PAUL Sure they can, some of them. There’s all kinds of neat stuff up there. TERESA Flips through the book with a confused look, wrinkling her nose. Funny stuff in here. What’s with all these squiggly lines? PAUL leans over the counter to see, lifting almost all of his weight off the floor, so he is propped up on his forearms. He comes very close to TERESA, who does not back up. They look at each other for just a moment longer than expected. PAUL very briefly glances down at the book, then back at TERESA. PAUL Oh, that’s calculus. It tells how the star’s surface temperature changes, and how long it takes to cool down. (PAUL lowers himself back onto the floor.) TERESA Eyes wide, surprised herself now. You could tell all that from those squiggles? Weird. Early Flemish Painting.The World of DaVinci.The Techniques of Oil Painting. You an artist? TERESA pushes the books to PAUL, who picks them up. PAUL Nah, art is just a hobby. I’m gonna be a physicist. TERESA Why? PAUL I don’t know. I just want to understand how things work, you know, learn the secrets of the universe. There’s tons of things to find out about, and stuff nobody’s figured out yet. That’s what I like the best, wondering about stuff, trying new ideas. I’ve already had some good ones. TERESA Oh, and ya gotta know lots of math for that kind of stuff, huh? Yuck. But you like art too? ‘cause there’s museums all over the place here. PAUL Yeah, I know. You interested in art much? TERESA Love it. PAUL (Timidly.) Well, ah, do you want to go to the Frick sometime, I mean, together? TERESA Sure. Tomorrow? PAUL Damn, I’ve got an all day chemistry lab tomorrow. TERESA (Clapping her hands together.) I knew you were a mad scientist. PAUL How ‘bout Saturday? TERESA OK. Come by here at noon. I’m done early that day. TERESA leans over the counter, smiles and bats her eyes at PAUL. He lets go of the books and they fall to the floor. She giggles as he picks them up. PAUL Ah, how much are these? TERESA Looking at the cash register. Oh, I almost forgot. Uh, thirty seven sixty five. Gee, that’s a lot. PAUL PAUL counts out the bills and change in his own hands, then gives it to TERESA. She stands there, looking at him and not minding the money. There is a pause between his two lines. That’s OK. Books are worth it. Aren’t you going to count it? TERESA Well, I’m not real good at math. But I trust you. No, wait. I said I’d give ya half off one. Let’s just make it thirty even. TERESA slides two bills out of her hand with the other, gives the remaining money back to PAUL, and puts the other money into the cash register. PAUL Hey, that’s great. Thanks. Listen, I’ll see you Saturday then. TERESA I’ll be here. PAUL exits stage right, door chimes jingling. TERESA takes a single ten dollar bill out of her own pocket, and puts it into the cash register. She moves to the front of the counter, and NANCY comes out from the back room. NANCY puts her arm around TERESA’s shoulders in a gesture of warm affection. NANCY Terry, did I see you padding the register again? You don’t have to do that, dear. TERESA Well, I promised him a book at half price. Itwas my idea. Besides, he’s just a student. They’re always broke. NANCY Maybe. He did seem like a nice boy. TERESA Distractedly, not as a real question. Do you think so? NANCY (Knowingly, nodding her head as if you say yes.) Could be. Dear, play me that song you started before, would you please? TERESA goes over to the piano, looking out the door. She sits, sliding towards the center of the bench, in a single fluid motion. She starts playing “Conversation” again, softer and slower, just as an instrumental. She continues looking out of the door of the store, never at the piano keys. NANCY walks over to TERESA, strokes her hair twice, leaving her hand gently on TERESA’s shoulder, and also looks out the door. The music fades, as do the lights, and go out. Act Two Scene 1 The lower stage, stage B, remains dark as the scene opens, when the upper stage’s lights come on. ANGELO is standing behind the bench, just stage left of PAUL, his hands leaning on the back of the bench. He casually moves his hand over the contours of the iron lacework of the bench. In doing this, especially during PAUL’s longer speeches, ANGELO slowly walks back and forth behind the bench, pausing at the more significant statements. ANGELO This woman was your first romantic entanglement? Had younever gone out on a date with a girl before that? PAUL No, I never did. My parents, though meaning well, were very restrictive. Both the elementary and high schools I attended were Catholic schools just for boys. Not a good environment to learn normal social skills. Besides, even at that I never fit in with everybody else. My classmates would go to the lot behind the school and drink whiskey, but I would go to the Marshall Chess Club. They’d listen to Santana, and I had my Shostakovich. They were smoking pot, and I was reading physics texts. They’d visit the girls at the school a few blocks over, but I was too shy to even speak to a girl. I was, what is the word for it? A geek? A nerd? I just didn’t belong. ANGELO So you wereawkward as a child, that’s not unusual. Especially for someone who is gifted. PAUL I wasunusually awkward socially, though I was smart and good enough in most everything else. That didn’t seem to matter though. I missed having a childhood, never learned how to have fun. My mother’s phobias wouldn’t allow me to run around like the other kids, so I never made any good friends. My mother could sense this void, since she created it. I couldn’t hide my loneliness, and she’d try to fill it with herself. This only made things much worse for me. I was constantly smothered—couldn’t breathe. Burying my nose in a book or working on a painting were my escapes. ANGELO That is unfortunate. Still, there are worse ways to grow up. And you did develop your talents. PAUL No, I did not develop the skill that was most important; how to be human. I do not mean to complain about it. I only wanted to explain what it was like, why I was clumsy around people. I couldn’t relax around people. It always felt like I wasn’t one of them, that I didn’t belong. So I avoided those situations. My first years at college were completely filled with work and study, and when I did try to meet people at the school socials, I never got anywhere. But Terry didn’t seem to care about my awkward ways. Maybe she just didn’t see it.. . .No . . . she knew . . . I’m sure of it. Still, she put me at ease. She was special. ANGELO Everyone is special in their own way. What was so different about her? PAUL Oh, she was always lively, always self-assured. She was very empathic; she felt for you,with you. She was always perceptive about feelings. She knew of my feelings even before I did. That was one of her most remarkable traits. Free and easy, comfortable with herself, that’s how she was. Mostly she was always happy. Even when she was blue, she still had a little sparkle because she was happy with life, no matter what else was going on. Can you understand that? ANGELO (ANGELO’s facial expression shows a hint of familiarity. He speaks with confident knowledge in his voice.) Yes. I understand perfectly. PAUL (PAUL is oblivious to any clue of recognition in ANGELO.) Anyway, somehow we hit it off, and very well at first. We shared a lot of interests, though we were very different in many ways too. She accepted the differences. She mademe feel accepted. I wasn’t used to that. ANGELO No? Weren’t your parents proud of you? You sound as if you had a successful childhood. PAUL That’s precisely the point. Successful. Terry accepted me for what I was, without any expectations. She didn’t care if I was precocious or not. For everyone else, I always had to perform, like some cute well-trained animal. My father loved to take me to the galleries uptown when I was fifteen. He would watch me talk to the salesmen about the history of art or the value of a minor master. I was a small child and looked even younger than I was. He enjoyed the reactions I got; this small young lad debating the attribution of a Turner watercolor with dealers. We became well known in the galleries off Madison Avenue. But it washis pride, not my own. Such things had little meaning for me, and I didn’t see myself as being anything exceptional. I disliked the attention, the focus on everything I said. And if I was wrong about something, then I was just a child pretending to be grown up, a kid in some pointless game. So before saying anything, I had to think hard about it, and say it like it had been written in one of my books. That made them the words of someone else, not mine. By comparison, my normal, natural words seemed somehow shallow, even to me. So, I gradually denied myself, and replaced my personality with that of some performer, a ventriloquist. ANGELO I see. That must have been difficult for you. Youth is the time to discover yourself, and what the world has to offer you, not for pretending to be someone else. PAUL The world was simply not accessible to me. The isolation was the worst. I spent my time indoors: reading, painting, studying. My best friends were books written by men long dead or were science texts without any personal involvement. I never got to know people, never got to make mistakes. I never got to be myself, didn’t even know who myself was. When it was time for college, I could stand it no longer. I had to break free of parental control. I desperately wanted to go to MIT, but my parents wouldn’t allow me to attend school out of state. We finally compromised on a local college, but I stayed on campus. It was an improvement for me, but I was still awkward, and found it very hard to make friends—even among the other social misfits. ANGELO I see. So, you drew away from a world that seemed beyond your reach. That would certainly explain your interest in math and physics, which are so rigorous and formal. But I am curious about your other interests. Art is the fullest expression of a person’s humanity; how do you explain your involvement with that? PAUL That was quite a struggle for me. When I first started painting at twelve, I was interested in Roman history, and I painted mostly melancholy architectural ruins. Symbols of decay, of incompleteness, without human presence and hinting of an existence only partly available to us. I would paint statues of people, often mere fragments, but not people themselves. I became adept at the techniques of painting very easily, I could paint form and surface with skill, but without feeling, or so I thought. The people around me praised my work, but in a large part I was still performing for others, since I was never pleased with them. Now I know those early paintings were truer works of art than I realized at the time. But then I learned of Magritte, with his people of stone who were obviously pretending to be human, and that struck a chord within me. From there I went on to study the rest of the surrealists, and found the disconnected, personal symbolism to be a revelation. I could express the deepest feelings I had, and no one could understand them. Often I invented symbols I didn’t understand myself. I found comfort in this. Still, my work was very architectural and sterile. Oh, my skills continued to improve, and I could paint what I wanted and make it look as real as a scene out a window, but I chose to paint the distortions of reality instead. ANGELO But you have described your art so differently. You changed your style yet again? Why? PAUL I knew those painting wasn’t really genuine. I was creating false images for the sake of others. Somehow I knew these symbols were not even true to myself. I struggled a long time in this confused style, not knowing what I wanted to do. After I found Terry, and discovering myself with her, my understanding of life began to change, and my art with that. She was different from other girls I’d met; she was somehow more real, absolutely unpretentious. We spent a lot of time together, here in the park, and often at the Frick Museum on 70th Street. Not just because it was a great museum, but because it was a place where we liked to be together. From that first day it was our place. I can still remember that day like it was yesterday . . . The upper stage lights fade as the lower lights brighten. Scene 2 The lower stage, B, is set up as a room inside the Frick Museum, NYC. The actual arrangement of the paintings have been changed to prevent the need to pass from room to room, but all of the paintings visible must be from the actual museum collection. One of the easily visible paintings on the rear wall should be a Tintorretto, his Portrait of a Venetian Procurer. Also on the rear wall is El Greco’s St. Jerome as a Cardinal, and another two landscapes, Gainsborough’s The Mall in St. James Park, and Constable’s, The White Horse. On the wall stage left is Vermeer’s Girl Interrupted at Her Music and Officer and Laughing Girl, and on the wall stage right is The Comtesse d’Haussonville by Ingres. There are three extras in the room: a single woman upstage looking at the Tintorretto and a couple stage left moving slowly from painting to painting. The young versions of PAUL and TERESA are seated on a central bench, TERESA at the end of the bench on the stage right side and PAUL a respectable foot or two away. TERESA is dressed up a bit, wearing a mid-length pleated skirt and a pretty blouse. PAUL is wearing dark slacks and a light, solid color shirt with long sleeves. PAUL is gesturing towards the audience, pointing to a painting on the imaginary near wall. PAUL (Gesturing to stage right, over the audience.) Now that one is by Giovanni Bellini,St. Francis in the Desert. See how the figure looks stiff and frozen? Artists in the early Renaissance were just starting to think of painting nature the way it really looks. They were just learning how nature works. The artists learned perspective and anatomy. They kept getting better and better, but it took them a while before people started to look more natural. But they were trying, showing people doing things as if it were real life. Before that, in the middle ages, paintings were always symbolic, the figures icons, just stand-in’s. Like in that one over there. That was supposed to show their spirituality. I could never understand that. The renaissance painters were still stuck in that idea, and it shows. TERESA Those areso different, in all sorts of ways. That picture is like a niche in a wall, not a window to a world. The spaces there are so shallow, I wonder if they thought their place in the world was that small. Maybe they thought their world was so small it didn’t matter. Even the sizes of the figures represent their status in heaven, not their location in space, or their relationship to other people. And their eyes are always turned up, not looking out at you, and not at each other. PAUL I always thought they looked like cartoons. By now St. Francis is solid, a rounded form. His skin tone looks like cool flesh, not the pale whitish colors that were supposed to show purity and grace in the Gothic style. Look at all the details. There’s animals all around. You have to look hard for some of them, but this painting is filled with animals. There are so many, it’s tough to count them all. Bellini must have been really liked animals to have known so much about them and painted so many different kinds. TERESA I love that about this picture. See the rabbit peeking out of its burrow? That’s so cool, just like a real rabbit would be. PAUL Yeah, the animals do look real and natural. But St. Francis still doesn’t look as good. He’s too stiff. It’s not easy painting people, or maybe Bellini was getting tired by then, but I doubt it. With one foot still in the dark ages, it was harder for him to paint humans that looked alive, but easier for him to do animals. Animals weren’t supposed to have spirits and souls like people, so it was easier to see them for what they really were, and to paint them that way. All this puts St. Francis down in a very real world. The worldaround him looks real, buthe’s still got a ways to go. TERESA Then, most of these paintings are interested in form, not feelings. Sure, the artists are learning to see and understand shapes, but they don’t show real emotion. Well, not people’s emotions, anyway. It’s spiritual feelings they care about, only what the soul feels. They’re just starting to paint something it looks like you can touch, but they still don’t know how that touch would feel. And they didn’t think the soul was inside you, it was everywhere. So they’re only getting one side of the story, the outside. PAUL But that’s all you can paint, isn’t it? Just the way things look on the outside? TERESA No, you can do more than that. Look over there, that one of the man in a red hat—it’s later than St. Francis, right? Now, he’s not stiff at all, but relaxed. And there’s no background, it’s just the guy now. People are recognized as important for themselves, and not for their spirits. Doesn’t this guy seem so much more real? You can see life in his eyes. He’s handsome! A woman could desire a man like that. Titian is painting that desire, that feeling, in the portrait, and making the person looking at it feel the same way. Right? PAUL Yeah, okay, but Titian was a guy. A woman might see the painting that way, but a guy wouldn’t feel desire looking at it. Maybe you’re reading into it more than there is. TERESA (Laughing.) You caught me, I was thinking about that anyway. But desire doesn’t always have to be about sex. I mean, you can see life in his eyes, can’t you? You’d like to talk with him, get to know him and what his life is about, wouldn’t you? Anyone could desire that, even a girl. And that’s what makes the picture a better one. It makes you feel. That’s why it looks real to you. PAUL How do you get all that into a painting? Not every painting makes you feel that way. Everybody’s painting how things look, but the ones that look real are rare. Why? TERESA Because you don’t just paint what you see, you paint what you feel. Not everyone feels the same way about things. And lots of people don’t feel like paying attention to what they see anyway. Or they only see what they want to see. But if you just accept things as they are, and you feel out what they’re about, they’re real to you. Understanding what’s real is the hardest part for anybody. PAUL Yeah, that’s not easy. So, everybody paints what they see, but everybody sees things differently. And we like the Titian because we see things the same way. Is that it? TERESA Pretty much. That, and Titian was damn talented! PAUL Yeah, he sure was. I wish I could handle paint the way he did. TERESA Maybe you will someday. Why not? PAUL (Laughing with good natured sarcastic humor.) I don’t know. Why not? TERESA (Also laughing.) I don’t know either. There, it’s settled, now you have to. PAUL Yeah, right. I’ll paint my first masterpiece tomorrow. At this point, the woman who was looking at the Tintoretto sits down on the bench, causing PAUL to slide over closer to TERESA to make room. Their hands touch, and PAUL withdraws his hand, then tentatively reaches for her’s again, but doesn’t take it. TERESA notices PAUL’s gestures. She puts her hand in his and using her other hand closes his hand around hers. She leaves her hands in that position for a few moments. They look at each other, TERESA smiling naturally and PAUL a bit nervously.
TERESA Hey, it’s OK. Don’t ya know I like you? PAUL I like you too. I’m just . . . TERESA Don’t be shy. I don’t bite. PAUL I know.. . . I’m . . . TERESA Silly. That’s all. PAUL (PAUL looks at their hands together, and tries to make friendly small talk.) Terry, that’s a pretty name. Is it Italian? TERESA Yup. That’s where I’m from. Born if Florence, like most of the family. My grandfather hired this genealogist and they traced our line back to the 1300's. I think they made up the first 300 years, but no one wants to correct grandpa. The family has a tradition of making us visit the city when babies are due, so everybody’s born there. When my aunt was the first one of us born outside of Italy, it was like she committed treason, and it wasn’t even her fault! But the family has never forgiven her for it. PAUL Wow. Sounds like a tough family. Did you live there? TERESA No, but we’ve been back over a few times. I guess all tolled I’ve spent a year or so there. You should see the museums they have, you’d have a ball. They’re nothing like this. They’re, well, you’ll just have to go see for yourself. PAUL No wonder you know so much about art. They must be incredible. I’d love to see them someday. TERESA Good. And ‘till then, New York’s museums are the best in the country. Here, let’s find some other artists you’ll be as great as someday. TERESA stands, and pulls PAUL up by the hand. She lets go when PAUL is standing. They take a few steps to stage left, turn forwards, and look up over the audience. TERESA (Giggling.) Hmm, Rembrandt? Sure, you could paint as good as him. PAUL Sure, pick one of the three greatest painters of all time! Why not, right? I mean, look at the way these are painted. I think I paint OK, but seriously, these guys were superhuman. That’s why they’re in a museum and I’m not. TERESA (Quickly looks PAUL up and down, then around, and grins.) But you are in a museum. PAUL That’s not wh... TERESA (Interrupting, but speaking in a lighthearted way.) I know what you meant. But they weren’t. Superhuman, I mean. They were only normal people. And they did it. They take another few steps to the wall stage left, TERESA leading, again turn and look up. TERESA How about Vermeer? PAUL Ya know, this is a small museum, but they have an awesome collection. Vermeers are about the rarest paintings there are, and the Frick has three of them. PAUL takes TERESA’s hand, and they walk another two steps to stage left. By now all of the extras have exited. They stand in front of Vermeer’s Girl Interrupted at Her Music. TERESA I love pictures that show music, and Vermeer did a couple of those. They move down a few steps to Vermeer’s Officer and Laughing Girl. TERESA Look at the expression on that girl; you can almost hear her laughing. PAUL I always liked Vermeer, even if he wasn’t the best. And this is gonna sound stupid after what you said before, but I kinda do think I could paint like this someday. Maybe. I even made a copy of hisGirl in a Turban from a picture in a book, and it came out pretty good. TERESA Ooh, I’d love to see it. Will you show me your stuff sometime? PAUL Sure, I’ve got a couple of pieces in my . . . ah . . . dorm room at Tech.. . .I’ll show you around the campus, it’s right on the Hudson River. It’s got some great views. TERESA Yeah, I’ll bet. OK. Now, let me guess who those other two painters are. Da Vinci, definitely. You’d like him even if he didn’t paint so well. And, somebody modern. Van Gogh? No. Maybe, um, Magritte or Salvador Dali? PAUL Da Vinci, yes. And Van Eyck. Are any of those your favorites too? TERESA No, but I had a feeling they’d be yours. You just don’t know the moderns. Van Gogh ishot. PAUL I like Van Gogh, but I just can’t understand modern art. TERESA Oh, that’s easy. A modern artist is just like the gothic painters. Braque, Picasso, Duchamp, were very gothic. They think the normal world is so small it hardly matters, it’s the least important part of anything. So there’s no point in just painting what they see, it’s not very real to them. They want to paint something more spiritual. But they’ve seen the atom bomb and what people do, and they never heard of a god that ever did anything that powerful. So the old spirituality doesn’t work, and they’re trying to figure out a new one with art. PAUL Wow. I never thought of that before, but it makes a lot of sense. Like how the first painters, you know, the ones in the caves, were priests or magicians or whatever you call them. TERESA Sure. Isn’t the artist’s job seeing something nobody’s ever seen before, and showing it to them? PAUL Funny, that’s the same thing I try to do in physics. Can science be artistic? It feels that way sometimes. TERESA (Laughs.) Well, maybe for you it is. They walk along the back wall, holding hands. They stop and stand in front of Ingres’ The Comtesse d’Haussonville. TERESA This is a nice picture. She almost looks like me, don’t ya think? PAUL Yeah, only you’re prettier. TERESA Prettier than a countess? TERESA makes a curtsey with a flourish, letting go of PAUL’s hand to take the hem of her skirt. TERESA Thank you, M’Lord. PAUL attempts to make a bow in return, a bit off balance, so he has to catch himself with a sudden shift of his foot. TERESA continues playfully. TERESA Hey, that’s good. PAUL looks embarrassed. Then TERESA takes his hand again. TERESA So, who’s the better artist, Ingres or Titian? Who’s women look more real to you? PAUL Oh, Titian, definitely. Ingres was a really fine artist, but when you look at some of his pictures, you get the idea he was only into it for the money. Either that, or I don’t understand how he saw the world, so his paintings don’t look so real to me. Right, isn’t that how it goes? To me, most of his women are too cold, like they’re always just posing, not living. They’re too perfect, kind of. Whatever, if I could learn how to paint half as good as this, I’d be happy. TERESA Well, don’t let me stop you. PAUL Ya know, I read about the lady in this picture. She was pretty remarkable. A really classy, educated lady. She wrote essays and historical novels, and helped out a lot of artists and writers. TERESA Yeah, she looks like somebody who would do that. It looks like she’s thinking of what to write about you now, doesn’t it? PAUL It does! Well, I hope it has a happy ending. It would have been interesting to live back then. Well, at least if you were rich and powerful like her family was. And were they ever. Her sister-in-law was a big deal in society then too, a princess even. Ingres did a portrait of her that’s at the Met, in this incredible blue satin dress. And she had a grandson who was a physicist. He wrote a really important paper on duality in quantum mechanics for his Ph.D. thesis. I’ve read it, it’s only a few pages, and it’s really clear and simple. At first the university rejected it because it was so short, but later he won a Nobel prize for it. TERESA Teresa is puzzled because she is not familiar with the strange word, and thinks she didn’t hear it properly. She is not asking for an explanation. For what? PAUL (He lets go of TERESA’s hand to gesture, like he’s turning a softball in front of him, and wiggles all his fingers at the same time.) It’s about how atoms work, how the electrons don’t really orbit the nucleus but are sort of everywhere at once, like waves or ripples on a pond. Everything is waves. What de Broglie figured out was how the quantum waves overlap to look like particles and . . . TERESA (TERESA puts her fingers to PAUL’s lips to stop him from talking. She laughs as she speaks.) I know about regular waves, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. PAUL OK, I can explain it another way. It’s . . . TERESA (Continuing to interrupt, still in a happy tone.) Not to me you can’t. I’m just no good at this science stuff. PAUL But you’re a smart girl. You know about art and music. It’s a lot like music, the flow of patterns between . . . TERESA No it isn’t. Music you can feel without thinking about it. Music comes from your heart and your hands, not your head. PAUL Animated, as if he’s hit upon the perfect explanation. I don’t know if Chopin would agree with that. Besides, science can come from the heart too. Even on an emotional level, you can appreciate the unity of nature, or the power in the stars. We just write it down with equations, kind of like the musical notation you can read. Then everybody can see it, just like . . . TERESA Strongly. No! I said I can’t, OK? I’m stupid, that’s all. Look, I can’t even make change right. So you can’t teach me, OK? Don’t even try. PAUL OK, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything. TERESA Still on edge, but her mood brightens after her first line. It’s all right. I’ve just always had problems with math and science. Forget about it. Tell ya what. Let’s grab a sandwich and eat in the park. I know just the perfect spot. Then we’ll go to the Metropolitan, and I’ll show you some new stuff. Are ya hungry? PAUL Yeah. Are you? TERESA Ravenous! Well, what are ya waitin’ for? C’mon, let’s go. TERESA grabs PAUL’s hand, and they briskly exit stage left, TERESA leading. Lights fade and go out. Act Three The lower stage, B, is set up as a beach with a few extras around. During the beach scene, there are background sounds of the ocean and of the people at the beach. In scene 1, only the upper stage is lit. In scene 2, the upper stage is dim. Scene 1 ANGELO is now standing next to the bench, on the stage left side. He walks around behind the bench, stopping on the stage right end, and places one foot on the seat, leaning towards PAUL and resting his forearm on his knee. His stance should imply a position of authority and superiority for the discussion to follow. PAUL sits more towards the middle of the bench, turns to follow ANGELO as he moves. PAUL places one arm along the top of the back of the bench for stability. ANGELO You fell for her right away, didn’t you? PAUL Of course I did. She was so warm and animated. No one else could have made me feel like she did. ANGELO Well, you were ready to fall in love, it was overdue. If not her, then another girl would have caught your fancy. PAUL (Angrily, personally offended. These sentences must be emphasized so they will be remembered when ANGELO uses them later.) I don’t see how you can say that. You didn’t know her. ANGELO (Smiling knowingly. He speaks the first line almost as an aside. After that he speaks directly to PAUL.) Oh, I know more than you realize. Look, it was inevitable. If not her that day, then someone else the next, or the one after that. Was that the only bookstore you ever went in? Life is full of events. You can’t stop them all from happening just because one of them seems different. And it only seems different because, after it happens, you think of it that way. PAUL No, shewas special. She completely changed the direction of my life. ANGELO You can go in any direction, but if you travel long enough you can end up in the same place that you started. Often that turns out to be just where you are. PAUL Paul tilts his head to the side in an expression of curiosity. I’m sorry, I’m not following your meaning. ANGELO I’m being poetic here; it is the personality I’m referring to, not the place. Perhaps an analogy would help. Let’s say you go to a movie and you are ten minutes late, it’s sold out. So, you go out for Chinese food now, instead of Italian later. There you share a table with someone, and before you know it, she’s flying to France with you. But after two weeks, you fly back alone. It seemed special, but afterwards, you’re in the same place. Back at home, with another wonderful and warm memory. PAUL This isyour story? Just because you can pick up women so easily doesn’t make them unimportant. Who was she? ANGELO It is just one story of many, but who she was doesn’t matter now any more than which movie it was. PAUL That is an absurd idea. Do you really believe that? Of course it matters, at least to her. ANGELO Smiling. He repeats Paul’s phrases from above with a similar but gentler intonation, not mockingly. I don’t see how you can say that. You didn’t know her. [Speaking in normal conversational tones again, but very personally.] Listen, I believe things happen in life, but you make yourself who you are no matter what. For example, what if she had come back with me? We might have carried on our affair a little longer before she left me, or I would have left her. And in the end, it’s all the same. Or what if I’d have gone to that movie early, and meet a woman in line who would be the one to accompany me to France. You see, when it’s all done, nothing has changed. PAUL I cannot accept that. People and things do matter. You become who you are because of the events in life; they shape you one by one, like a sculpture. There is no plan that says you must turn out one way whatever your choices are. Didn’t it matter when Michelangelo chose a hammer instead of a brush for his work? Some choices change you, and you go down a path that you will never return from. ANGELO No, you are thesculptor, not the stone. Michelangelo wasn’t creating something alive; life is its own force, and each person possesses his own. Could anyother sculptor have made hisMoses, however he was trained? No, Michelangelo was unique, as was his work. He grew, from the academic reliefs he did as a youth, to the almost abstractPietás of his old age. But they were all distinctly Michelangelo, even his earliest. Nothing could change his decision to make them as he chose to. They were inevitable. Try as he might, not even Pope Julius could affect what he was, and what he made of it. PAUL With contempt for what he reads into Angelo’s words. So you think God has predestined us to our role in life? ANGELO Indignant, assertive. No, I am no puppet to superstition. Are you? PAUL Paul shakes his head no. So we’re not predestined. But if we’re not made for a specific future, aren’t we naturally made by the past? ANGELO No, the past is always removed from you. It’s the present where we live. I mean to say we each have a true self, a core, that allows us to know who we are. We make this for ourselves, by our choices, not anyone else’s. When we look inside we can see ourselves as always familiar, always what we expect, a sure thing in our lives. Know that it is there and you can never be lost, for it is always the same. It is you. PAUL That is just more poetry. I can imagine myself to be anything I want, even if I am only deluding myself. And I can change, and be changed. I can’t imagine avoiding that. ANGELO Ah, but why would you want to imagine one thing instead of another? And if youare deluding yourself, perhaps a preference for delusion is part of who you really are. Is the artist who believes in the reality of what he creates truly mistaken, or is he simply living in a different place? Don’t artists especially get to choose their own reality? Or if he does not believe it, is he really an artist? PAUL Hmmm. No. Art isn’t just technique. Expressions of the artist’s reality are essential in his work. And I suppose to be an artist, you have to know what reality is, whatever it is. Otherwise, you have nothing worthwhile to paint, nothing to say. Better to be silent. I’d never thought of it before, but that could explain why I stopped painting. You see, my marriage to Margaret was a failure from the beginning. You’ve never been married, but take it from me, married life can be unreal. Somewhere in there, I lost track of that belief, but I didn’t know it. I was still painting, pictures that were polished and precise, always getting apparently better. But I didn’t enjoy looking at them, they were somehow . . . hollow. All surface, there was nothing inside them. I just didn’t have the emotional strength to put anything inside them, and I couldn’t paint my anguish. None of the soul we’d mentioned before. No emotion, no life, no meaning. Perhaps my anguish was a memory that reality had lost me. So just when I was becoming successful, I couldn’t paint any more. No one understood why I stopped, and neither did I. Now I understand. ANGELO Perhaps you simply needed to get in touch with yourself, cast off your dependence on other people and circumstances, and focus on who you were. What else can you know, what else is as important? PAUL Frustrated, struggling to understand this idea. That sounds so simple, but life is not like that. Can you disregard your past and say it’s not important? ANGELO Lifeis that simple, if you know yourself. Things just don’t get inside you, you put them there. Nothing gets inside you unless you chose to let it. And that is your choice. Your self. PAUL It’s hard to argue with that, but I can’t help thinking it’s wrong. It can’t be that easy. People aren’t that simple. Admittedly, I never understood people. They were always more complicated than I expected. I was always amazed by things people said or did,. . .some things I’d never imagined.. . .But people are full of surprises, and contradictions. If you love someone . . . no, I’ll say it the way you’d say it, if you chose to love someone, don’t you have to let them into . . . no, put them inside you . . . ANGELO Go on, you’re doing fine on your own. PAUL No, it doesn’t seem right. If you have to choose what you put inside, sometimes you have to choose no. That means you’re missing what that other person is all about. ANGELO No one ever completely knows another person. And no two people will think of one person the same way. So people are just what you understand them to be. You take the parts you like, the parts you naturally understand. PAUL (Stands up, agitated, and slowly paces about the bench.) Well, you are certainly better at that then me. But this still seems all wrong. It can’t be right. Maybe, if you don’t have to choose everything bit by bit, if other people can come into your life even without your permission, maybe it could be all of them, and not just the parts you understand. So perhaps I wouldn’t understand them. That seems a fair price to pay. ANGELO Sometimes people can’t afford even a fair price, and this is one of them. Knowing all about another person is impossible. It’s enough to know yourself. PAUL No. I mean, yes, I can’t deny that. I don’t know. Everything you’ve said sounds true, but something seems missing. I don’t know what it is, so I can’t argue with you. As far as I know, you may be right. (PAUL stops pacing and sits down again.) ANGELO Of course I’m right. And this outlook is empowering. It makes life utterly enjoyable. Think of the times you’ve most enjoyed life, and see if you didn’t feel the same way then. The upper stage’s lights fade to black. ANGELO and PAUL exit the upper stage when the lights are off.
Scene 2 Everything stays dark for a few moments, up to the limits of the audience’s patience. The sounds of the ocean begin to come up, but the stage, A and B, stays dark for the maximum reasonable delay. Then the lower stage’s, B, lights come on quickly, and as bright as they can possibly be. The change should be strong enough to shock the audience’s eyes, to simulate the effect of a very bright summer day at the beach. Only after the scene is underway do the lights gradually dim back down to a comfortable level. The sounds of people mingle with the sounds of the surf. There are three lounging extras in this scene, one with a transistor radio playing tinny rock music from the 70’s. It is in the middle of playing “Suzy Q” by Credence Clearwater Revival. The volume is low, so the music is only a background presence. When the volume is raised to give the music a bigger presence, the sound quality is also improved. Except for providing the background music, the extras don’t interact with the characters. The younger TERESA and PAUL are dressed in swimsuits. PAUL’s trunks are a solid, dark color. TERESA is in a modest, patterned bikini. Only TERESA is wearing sunglasses; PAUL squints uncomfortably through the entire scene. They are on a large beach towel spread out under them. TERESA lies on her back closest to the audience. PAUL sits on the towel next to her side. There is a beach bag containing TERESA’s stuff at PAUL’s feet. There is a surfboard on the sand at the bottom of the towel. TERESA Don’t ya love to lie in the sun and feel the heat soak into ya? PAUL Yeah, it’s OK. TERESA I could just live out here in the sand forever. This is a nice beach. Virginia Beach is OK, but Nag’s Head is way better. And Montauk is great. The Hamptons are so close, and some of them never get crowded. PAUL Gee, you’ve really been all over. TERESA (Spoken in soft, reflective tones as a happy memory, not bragging.) Well, anyplace with a beach is a good place to be. But the two best are Mar del Plata in Argentina, where the sailboats are so colorful it’s like an expressionist painting. That’s where I learned to surf, the very first time. And Hawaii. On Maui, not on the big island; Kaimu Beach.[Provide pronunciation if I can get it.] It’s a mile or two walk from the town. The sand is pure black, real hot and sensuous. It gets to you, ya know? (TERESA takes off her sunglasses, and twirls them in her hand, as if imagining it was dark.) TERESA She speaks in dreamy tones. And the stars. Lying on the beach at night, they’re so bright and clear. They reach down and tickle you. You’d like that. I just love Hawaii. I’ve never felt more at peace with the world than there. PAUL Uhmm. TERESA (TERESA speaks in a lively and amused tone now. TERESA puts the sunglasses on the top of her head, sits up, and takes a sun tan lotion bottle out of the bag. She squirts some in her hand, and tosses the bottle to PAUL, all while talking. She begins to massage it into the tops of her legs. Her tone to PAUL is plain and matter of fact, not demanding, as if it is just assumed that he would help her with this even if she didn’t ask.) In Argentina everybody on the beach goes topless all the time. It’s embarrassing at first, but after a day or two, what with all the old ladies and everything, it’s kinda funny. TERESA (TERESA turns slightly and pushes herself back so she is almost up against PAUL, side to side.) You do my back. PAUL takes the bottle and shuffles behind TERESA. He puts some lotion into his right hand, but keeps holding the bottle in his left. He starts to rub the lotion onto TERESA’s neck and shoulder with only his right hand. Meanwhile, the music increases in volume slightly, to impress itself on the audiences attention. Afterwards, it gradually fades back down to background level. TERESA Oh, I love this song. Creedence really knows where it’s at. Can’t you just feel that guitar wail? PAUL Yeah. TERESA (Turns to PAUL, and takes the bottle from his hand.) Gee, you’re quiet. Am I talking too much? PAUL No, I like talking to you, listening to you. It’s OK. . . . TERESA takes the bottle from PAUL, squeezes a lot of the lotion into her hand, drops the bottle onto the towel and puts her hands together. Then she puts both hands on PAUL’s chest, and slides them down, leaving two streaks of lotion. She laughs, and turns back, humming along with the song. PAUL scrapes the lotion off his chest and looks around, like he doesn’t know what to do with it. TERESA moves backwards to be up against him, and PAUL starts to rub the lotion onto her shoulders again. TERESA starts to sway rhythmically, under PAUL’s touch and in tune with the music. Next the radio starts to play Jefferson Airplane’s “Somebody to Love.” TERESA Enthusiastically, to no one in particular. Sing it, Gracie. Who do you like? (TERESA takes the glasses off her head and puts them back on. Then she leans backward and rolls onto her stomach.) TERESA Do my whole back, please. PAUL (PAUL takes the bottle of lotion and squirts a trail onto the upper half of TERESA’s back. He starts rubbing it in with one hand, then uses both.) Gee, all of them I guess. They’re all pretty good. TERESA The British really know how to rock. I still can’t believe the Beatles broke up. We’ve got some good bands, but nobody like the Stones or Pink Floyd. Or Zep. PAUL (Spoken with little inflection.) Who? TERESA (Excitedly, making drumming motions on the blanket.) Yeah! They’re great too. Don’t you justlove Tommy? PAUL Who’s Tommy? TERESA (Confused.) Uh-huh. Wait . . . no . . . I meanTommy, the opera. PAUL Oh, I don’t listen to opera much. I can never understand what they’re singing. TERESA (Laughing slightly.) No, not that kind of opera. You know,Tommy, the album by the Who. Therock opera. Don’t you listen to anything modern? PAUL (Sheepishly.) I like Stravinsky. TERESA (Laughs heartily.) Well, that’s a start. I’ll loan ya some of my rock albums when we get back. But you take real good care of my Frampton. . . . Mmm, go lower. PAUL starts to rub her lower back, but is awkward and uncomfortable. There isn’t enough lotion on her, but he doesn’t use any more. After a moment, TERESA pushes herself up on her elbows and looks at PAUL. TERESA Are you OK? TERESA (She glances down at his trunks, and puts a hand on his thigh. Her tone is whimsical and light, with a mischievous glint, the sexual meaning clear in her tone and position.) Yeah, you’re OK. PAUL (Very embarrassed and timid.) I . . . uh . . . TERESA (She looks at him, smiling, but PAUL is obviously uncomfortable with the situation. TERESA tries to ease PAUL’s tension by changing the subject.) Hey, it’s OK. Ilike you, a lot. Don’t sweat it. Are you hot? You wanna go in? We’ll go surfing. PAUL (Quietly, like an unwilling admission of guilt.) No . . . uh . . . that’s not . . . uh . . . I don’t surf. TERESA It’s easy. C’mon, it’ll be fun. I’ll show you how. We’ll get you a board at Al’s stand. She starts to get up, but PAUL puts his hand on her arm and she stops. PAUL No, it’s not just that. You go, it’s all right. TERESA More concerned than impatience in her voice. What’s the matter? PAUL Looking aside and down, not at Teresa. I can’t swim. TERESA Oh. . . . Are you afraid of the water? (PAUL looks down, embarrassed, draws up his knees and doesn’t answer.) TERESA Softly and comforting. Hey, don’t worry about it, I understand. But, why’d ya want to come to the beach then? PAUL (Looking at TERESA now.) To be with you. And you wanted to come. TERESA She speaks with affection. But we could’ve done something else. PAUL No, we can’t only do what I want to do. Besides, it is nice here. I’m fine. You go. I’ll wait here. TERESA Are you sure? PAUL Yeah. Go on. TERESA Well, OK. But don’t you go after some other girl while I’m gone. (TERESA jumps up sprightly, throws her sunglasses onto the blanket, and grabs her board. Then she turns back to look at PAUL.) PAUL Gestures for her to go with his arm. I won’t even look at anybody else. TERESA starts to giggle and runs off stage left. Her departure must overlap the following line. PAUL Nobody’s worth looking at besides you anyway. PAUL (PAUL is left alone. He sits there a moment, pushes some sand off the blanket, picks up and drops the bottle of lotion.) Geez, what the hell is wrong with me? Now she’s gotta think I’m a total jerk. Maybe she’s right. I can’t do anything, can’t even swim. She loves the water, and I’m afraid; and I don’t even know why. . . . If I had half a brain I’d know what to say to her. Why is it so hard? I should tell her that she’s nice. But what does that mean? I should say that she’s pretty. But that sounds so shallow; it’s not just her looks. She’s smart in her way, real smart, but she won’t want me to say something like that. I’ve never seen anybody as talented at music as she is. But it’s not just what she can do, there’s more to it than that. She’s so natural about everything. Nothing’s natural for me. I don’t know, I can’t figure out what it is. I really don’t understand all this. How the hell can I talk to her about stuff I really don’t understand?. . . I hate this, it’s all too weird. What am I doing here? This isn’t me. I’m making things worse by pretending. I want her to like me, and I’m blowing it. There is a brief, still silence. TERESA comes trotting back, dripping from the surf. She puts her board down, grabs a towel from the bag, and dries herself while standing. TERESA That was great. The water’s cool and real lively. I was absolutely flying on that curl. PAUL How long have you been surfing? TERESA (She laughs and lets herself fall onto the blanket, sitting on her calves.) Since I was thirteen. That time we went to South America. I was barely big enough to carry the board, but I loved it. Surfing is like heaven! Even before that, I was always in the water. Mom says I’m an evolutionary throwback and should’ve never crawled out of the sea. Poor Mom. I always gave her a lot of trouble.. . .You really ought to learn how to swim, it’s so much fun. Can I teach you? PAUL Yeah. Sure. I’ll try. TERESA You won’t be scared? PAUL No. Yes! I’ll get over it. TERESA That’s good. You’ll see, you’ll like it. But later—I need a break after that run. Hey, they’re playing my song! (TERESA begins to sway in time with the music.) PAUL What song? TERESA (She closes her eyes and moves sensuously to the music.) The Doors.Light My Fire. This is such a steamy song. Ummm. This song is perfect for me. It’s my song. TERESA looks critically at PAUL, trying to appraise his reaction. PAUL is looking at her, but doesn’t say anything. She pouts briefly. After a moment she picks up the lotion and hands it to PAUL. TERESA (She leans forward and lies on her stomach.) Would you please? Could you do my legs now? PAUL squirts the lotion on her legs behind the knees. Using both hands, he works over her legs but avoids going too high up her legs. TERESA sighs softly. PAUL is so distracted he doesn’t know what to say. PAUL Gee . . . Terry . . . I . . . TERESA Yeah? PAUL You’re special, ya know? TERESA You really think that? Thanks. You are too. PAUL From the first day I knew there was something about you, something . . . wonderful. Like I’ve never seen before. TERESA lifts herself halfway up on one elbow, turning to face PAUL. She takes the sunglasses off her eyes, and looks directly at PAUL, smiling. He continues to apply the lotion to her legs and is leaning towards her, looking at her face, and doesn’t notice his hands moving higher. TERESA Yeah? How? PAUL Oh, I don’t know. Like, you had a glow or something. You’re so alive, you sort of bounce along without touching the ground. The way you understand music, I mean, the way you move to the music, is like, like, wow. And you’re so talented. I think it’s just incredible the way you can play anything, like the piano, or your guitar and flute. TERESA Aw, that’s easy. It’s no big deal. PAUL Sure it is. You know all about art, way more than me. And you’re beautiful, you really are. You understand me, everything about me. TERESA No, just a little. PAUL Well, that’s a lot more than anybody else. You care about me. I can see that you do. I look into your eyes, and I can see the whole world reflected in them. I . . . TERESA Yeah? There is a slight pause. She is inviting him to continue, her body language is very open, but PAUL doesn’t pick up on this, and he doesn’t say anything. TERESA Well, so how come you’re not kissing me? PAUL Kissing? I . . . yeah . . . PAUL glances around quickly. He leans forward to kiss her, but his position is awkward, he doesn’t know where to put his hands, and he’s unsure of himself. He kisses her, badly. Then he pulls back. TERESA What’s the matter? PAUL I don’t know . . . TERESA (She sits up.) Is it me? Is there something you don’t like about me? PAUL No. You’re perfect. It’s just, well . . . I’ve never kissed a girl before. TERESA Really? Never? Oh wow. Listen, it’s OK. I know, the first time can be weird. Don’t sweat it. Relax. I’ll show you. TERESA puts one hand on the back of PAUL’s neck, and draws him to her. She kisses PAUL once lightly on his lips, pulls away just enough to see his expression, then kisses him again like the first time, but more lingering. She pauses for a second, so they can catch a breath, and kisses PAUL again, seeking to touch his tongue with hers. PAUL tries to return her kiss, but cannot let himself go. TERESA releases him. Her tone is frustrated and upset, bordering on angry. TERESA Now what? PAUL I don’t want you to think I . . . just . . . TERESA (TERESA jumps up and stands over PAUL.) Shit! Stop treating me like one of those God damn statues at the Frick, OK? Look. I’m no perfect fuckin’ saint. I’m just me, that’s all. If that’s not good enough for you, forget it. Just forget it! (PAUL looks down, cannot think of anything to say.) TERESA Aghh. I’m going in again. I’m not afraid to get wet. TERESA turns and takes three steps away, not looking back, before PAUL calls her. PAUL (PAUL jumps up, but does not take any steps to go after TERESA. His voice is anxious, full of self-recriminations.) Terry, no, it’s me. Not you. I’m the one who’s acting like a damn idiot. TERESA stops, but keeps her back to PAUL. She stands stiffly, still very angry. She crosses her arms in front of her. After PAUL’s first line, she begins to relax, but doesn’t turn yet, keeping her back to him. Her arms go down to her side. PAUL I know you’re right. I’m so stupid; I never know what to do, what to say. It’s my fault. I don’t want to hurt you. I do care about you. You make me feel good. (She turns to face PAUL. Her anger is fading.) PAUL I just don’t know how to relax. I can learn how to have fun, honest. I just never had the chance to try, never had anything to do. This is all new to me. I get confused. TERESA (She walks back and stands in front of PAUL, taking both his hands in both of hers.) I know. Gee, you’re just like a little boy, aren’t you? OK, I’ll go slow. We’ve both got a lot to learn, don’t we? PAUL (Swallowing hard.) Terry, I love you. TERESA And I love you too. Just take it easy. It’s no big deal. PAUL All right. Tell ya what. Show me how to swim. I’m ready. TERESA You sure? PAUL Yeah, I’m sure. Heck, it can’t be as scary as kissing. . . . Can it? TERESA (Laughing.) No, I guess not. TERESA takes PAUL’s hand and they go off stage together, TERESA leading. Sounds of play in the water can be heard from the wings as the lights go out.
Scene 3 The scene takes place in the younger PAUL’s dorm room. The wall, stage right, has a student desk in the middle, flanked by crude bookshelves packed with books. Above the desk are cork board tiles. Pinned into it are a periodic table of elements, some note paper with math equations, and other scientific looking stuff. Darts are used as some of the pins, but there’s no dart board. There are also a few small sketches. On stage left is a bed, and towards the back is a bureau, on which is a small stereo with turntable. Hanging in frames above the bed is the copy of Vermeer’s Girl in a Turban from the Mauritshuis in The Hague, and a print of Dali’s Metamorphosis of Narcissus.. There is also hanging, unframed, a medium sized unfinished painting of a kid building a tree house. TERESA and PAUL are returning from an art fair. TERESA enters first, stage left in front of the bed. They are each carrying three framed pictures, TERESA has one large and two small ones and PAUL has three larger ones. They are in good spirits, their voices could be heard off stage as they enter and the lights come up. They simply pile the pictures on the floor by the door as they enter. TERESA Offstage. That was fun! PAUL Offstage. It was. I didn’t think I’d enjoy it so much. TERESA Offstage. Did you see that drunk old guy? He was a hoot! PAUL Offstage, as TERESA enters. He must have made a dozen trips to the bar. TERESA walks over to the bureau and turns on the radio, keeping the volume low. Time In A Bottle by Jim Croce plays from the middle, the music gradually fading after a bit so as not to interfere with the dialog. After the Ends, CSN’s Love the One You’re With plays. The volume can by adjusted up or down to make the music audible during longer lulls in conversation, timed at particular parts of the song. PAUL enters, and takes a bit more time to unload his pictures. PAUL I was sure he was gonna buy something by then. TERESA Oh, and he did too. Some painting of flowers. He probably has to give it to his wife to keep out of trouble. I hope it works like real ones. PAUL Honestly, I think he would have preferred some dogs playing poker. TERESA Yeah, me too. PAUL walks over. TERESA slips off her shoes and sits on the bed, cross legged with her back against the wall. PAUL sits on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor.] That was a great idea, having a wine and cheese party with it. PAUL The lady who runs the show says business always picks up after the bar opens. TERESA Smart Lady. I liked her. PAUL I think we should have had more cheese and less wine. TERESA Why? How much did you have? PAUL Just three glasses, but standing around in the heat they really got to me. How many did you have? TERESA I dunno, I don’t count. Enough to enjoy myself. What were you drinking? PAUL (PAUL pronounces Chablis as cha-bleeze.) First, I had a Merlot, but that was too heavy. Then I had a Reisling, and then a Chablis . After I spilled some I figured that was enough, so I switched to 7-Up. TERESA Ah, the poor man’s champagne. Those wines are made right there on the Island? PAUL That’s what they said. Some local vineyards out there donated a few cases, and the restaurant let us use their place for free too. They used the same place last year. I think the owner is dating one of the artists. TERESA Was she the one with all of the nudes? Did you notice that all looked a little like her? They were good. PAUL I think that’s her. And she sure sold a lot of them. TERESA That’s what some people are looking for when they go to these shows. If you know what people want to buy, you can sell more. Why don’t you paint some? PAUL I’m not good enough. It takes a lot of practice to do it right. TERESA So, practice. You’ll get good at it pretty soon. PAUL It’s not that simple. I’d need to pay a model, and have someplace to paint in. This room is too small for a model, and if the other guys in the dorm found out, I’d never get any peace. TERESA Now, don’t make excuses. I remember what you said about those nudes by Titian. You’re just too shy. But anybody who sees your stuff knows you’re a serious artist. So don’t worry about it. Talk to that woman and see how she does it. Maybe she’s in a workshop or something. Ask if you can go along with her next time. PAUL Yeah, I can do that. I’d be worth checking out. TERESA I’m sure there’s a way. You’ll find one. PAUL But that’s not really what I paint. Not that I’d mind, but there’s other pictures I need to do. TERESA But you do want to make money doing it, right? PAUL Well, yeah, kind of. I mean, sometimes if a friend likes a picture, it makes me feel better to just give it to them than sell it to some stranger. Somebody’ll say something important, and I know a painting about it would mean something to them. So I make it to give to them. You saw the way Ray and Martha looked when I gave him that picture of them camping out. That kind of thing makes it worthwhile for me. TERESA Yeah, and that’s great, Paul. But you can do the same thing for people who aren’t already your friends. Don’t you think there are things that everybody cares about? Things like love, or friendship, or music. You know, the kind of ideas you already paint. PAUL I see what you’re getting at. I still make the kind of art I want, just not personal. TERESA No, it can still be personal. You just don’t know the person yet. But if you show those pictures, they’ll come to you. PAUL Yeah, you’re right. I always thought I wouldn’t care about the cash. But when somebody wants a picture enough to pay real money for it, that’s worth something. Frankly, I’m still a little surprised somebody would think that way about my stuff. I felt funny taking it, but it felt good in my pocket. (PAUL turns closer to TERESA, facing her fully, and lifts one leg onto the bed.) TERESA I’ll bet it feels good. You did great, selling a painting in your first show. PAUL Yeah, but I didn’t get half of what I was asking for. TERESA (Laughs.) Well, I just have to teach you how to negotiate, that’s all. That guy would’ve paid the two hundred for it. I said you should have asked for more. PAUL You think so? TERESA For sure. Did you see how he kept looking at it as he walked past? He decided he was gonna buy it before he even looked at the price. PAUL No, I didn’t see that. I should pay attention to stuff like that. TERESA There’s a lot of things you need to pay more attention to. It’ll get easier the more you do it. PAUL I’m glad I was in this show. Listen, Terry, I want to thank you again for telling me about this group in the first place, and for paying the twenty bucks to get me into the thing. I’ll give it back to you from the money I got for the hawk painting. TERESA No, you don’t have to do that. Tell ya what, take me out for dinner tomorrow, how’s that? Luigi’s? PAUL OK, I’d like that, a lot. I really do appreciate you being there with me today. (PAUL leans over and kisses TERESA on the lips, more than a quick kiss but not too much.) TERESA It was my pleasure. I liked it too. They kiss again, longer this time. TERESA Now you should start thinking about your next fair. You need more paintings, too. Most people’s booth’s were crowded with pictures, and you only had a couple. You should show your drawings, and have at least six more painting next time. PAUL (Laughing.) Is that all? Terry, it took me forever to get these done, and the next show’s in the winter. I don’t think I could get three picture done by then. Not if they’re gonna be any good, anyway. TERESA Sure you can, Paul. Everything you so is good enough to show. PAUL No, they’re not. I just don’t show you the lousy ones. TERESA I’ll bet you’ve never painted anything lousy. Show me one. PAUL takes a small unframed painting out from under the bed and gives it to her. TERESA looks at it and laughs. Okay, you win. That one does suck. What happened? PAUL I dunno. I thought it was a good idea at first, but my heart just wasn’t into it. TERESA Well, stick with the ones you feel good about. ‘cause, this is really bad! (TERESA hands the picture back to PAUL, and he drops it into the trash) You’re only gonna work in the lab part time this summer, right? PAUL Yeah, and I’m not gonna take any extra courses either. TERESA Good. You’re already halfway done with this picture of the kid building a tree house, right?. And you said at the Stones concert you could make a painting of that. I’ll bet that one would sell. And you’ve been talking about doing a St. George forever! I like your twist on it, with the kid in his back yard and the dog with the fake dragon wings. But I don’t want to hear about it any more, I want to see it. So just do it. And even if you don’t want to sell that one, it’d be good to have at a show, to pull people in. Can’t you do those three by then? PAUL Yeah, I could get those done, I think. TERESA Okay. And you’ve got other plans, right? Don’t you keep sketches of ideas someplace? (TERESA looks around, especially at the cork board.) TERESA Which one of those is your favorite? PAUL (PAUL gets up and walks over to the wall.) Um, I dunno, I haven’t even thought about these yet. (PAUL reaches out and takes one off the wall, looking intently at the paper in his hand.) PAUL This one I guess, of the girl waiting at the bus stop. . . . Or maybe this one, of the guy Playing chess. PAUL hands the drawing to TERESA, but she just glances at it, like she’s already familiar with it. Would you pose for me in this one? TERESA Sure, anything you have in mind, . . . but only if you promise to do them both. PAUL I don’t know, that’s a lot. TERESA Listen, you can do it. Just don’t make them too big. Make those two small ones. That’s easier, isn’t it? At least you can try, okay? PAUL You really think I should, huh? Okay, I can try. TERESA Now just one more. And I know just what I’d want. I saw this couple kissing on a bridge in Paris, with a cathedral across the river. That’d be perfect. Everybody likes to see people in love. PAUL Terry, no, that’s way too much. C’mon, you know how I work. And with a cathedral? It’d take me three weeks just to draw that, with all the statues and ornaments. Maybe I could do that instead of the St. George, but not both. That’s impossible. TERESA Well, all right, I guess that is too much. But I’d still like you to do that scene sometime. PAUL I’d love to make a painting with the two of us in it. I like your idea, but if it was us as the couple, I’d never sell it. Besides, it sounds like I’ve got plenty to do before starting any new projects. TERESA So keep one. But just one. Keep making art, real art, then share it with lots of people, not just your friends around here. . . . Ok, here’s the deal. You make one painting to keep, one to give away, and the rest to sell. But you have to tell me which ones you’re not selling before you start them, or else you’ll cheat. And your drawings are as good as a painting if you ask me, so you can do some that way. Um, I’ll trade you two new drawings for one painting, that sound fair? Agree? PAUL Ya know, you’ve almost convinced me. Okay, it’s a deal TERESA You’ll do it. I believe in you. You just have to decide what you want to do, then make it happen. That’s what it’s all about, and that’s all it’s about. PAUL (Smiling, moves closer to be next to TERESA.) Oh, is that the secret to the good life? Does it work for you? TERESA (More thoughtfully.) Yes, and no. I mean, there’s a lot that I wish were different. The thing is, other people also get to do what they want, and sometimes what they want gets in the way of what I want. PAUL Like who? TERESA Well, my family for one. You never met my dad, or you’d know. He’s a good guy, and I know he means well, but he just thinks so differently from me. And my grandfather is worse, he’s really in the old world. I feel like I’m being suffocated sometimes. So I dream of being on my own, traveling where I want to, making friends with who I want to, no family obligations at all. But it’s only a dream, it’ll never work out that way. PAUL (He puts his hand on her leg, just above the knee.) Can I help? TERESA Oh, you already do, more than you know. I can relax here, let my hair down. This is the only place I can really get away from all that. I’m a different person here, my own person. You accept me like that, you never make any demands on me like everybody else in the real world. And that means so much to me. (TERESA leans over and gives PAUL a quick kiss, sits back smiling.) TERESA So I’ve got a lot of good going for me too. . . . Do you have any papers? PAUL PAUL gets up and brings the supplies back to TERESA. TERESA picks up an album cover that’s on the bed and puts it in her lap. What else do you want out of life? Not what you don’t want, something positive. What do you want to do more than anything else? TERESA First thing is music. I could play the piano forever. That bench is my sanctuary when I’m home. All sorts of music, from . . . PAUL returns and tries to sit on the bed. The movement makes TERESA and the album cover tilt. TERESA laughingly pushes him away with one arm, grabbing the bag with the other. TERESA Hey, you’re making the bed shake! I can’t roll like this. Go sit over there. PAUL (PAUL gets a chair from the other side of the room and sits in it next to the bed.) Is that better? TERESA Much, thank you. Oh yeah, music. You know I’ve got that recital at school next month. That’ll take a lot of practice. I’ve got two solos, a Liszt and a Wagner. Believe me, I didn’t pick the Wagner, but somebody else got the Prokofiev. I’d just as soon skip the concert, my dad’s making me do it. I’d rather put my own band together. PAUL That’d be cool. What would you call it? TERESA (Chuckles.) “De bAnd,” for Deb and the rest of us. Get it? She and Judy play guitar. I’ve got keyboards covered. Debbie’s the best singer, and that’s good, because fans always go for the singer. Remember her? We went to the beach together once. PAUL (Thinks for a moment.) No, I don’t think so. TERESA Cute, long dark hair, tiny bikini. Oh, maybe it was somebody else. Anyway, we’d need a good drummer too. We’d find one, if we only had more time. PAUL What do you mean, “more time?” TERESA (Excitedly.) Well, you know that student exchange program I talked about? I got accepted, and I got my first choice too. Next semester I start my senior year in Denmark! PAUL Terry, that’s awesome. I know how much you’ve been counting on that. When did you find out? TERESA Last week. There was a package in the mail from the University of Copenhagen. They tell you everything, from how to get a student visa and what kind of shots you need, to how to dress for the weather there. Even how to get money wired to you. That one sounds handy. PAUL So why didn’t you tell me sooner? You didn’t mention anything all day. TERESA Well, this was an important day for you, and I didn’t want you to be thinking about anything else but your business. And it is a business now, so take care of it like one. PAUL I don’t see how come you didn’t say anything about it before. You must have been busting to tell me. TERESA Oh, I was! Sometimes I just want to jump up and down and tell everybody. You should have heard me scream when I first opened the letter. PAUL I wish I could have been there. I’m glad you got it, Terry, but I’m going to miss you too. TERESA Oh, I’m gonna miss you too, but it’s almost three months before I have to go, and it’s only for one year. TERESA lights the joint she rolled, takes a hit and then passes it to PAUL, who stands next to the bed. PAUL inhales. I’ll be back before you know it. And we’ll write and send pictures. You have to send me a photo of what you’re painting every week, okay? And I’ll send you shots of the country. (PAUL passes the joint back to TERESA.) TERESA And I’ll write you long bohemian letters that you have to read in some smoky café, like this. TERESA takes a hit and blows the smoke towards PAUL, laughing, and gestures to offer him the joint again. But she pulls it slowly back as PAUL reaches for it, so he has to climb onto the bed to get it. PAUL Promise me you will, and I will too. PAUL leans towards her as if to kiss her, but TERESA goes to put the joint in his mouth, effectively pushing him back. He takes a hit. PAUL Will you be able to speak Dutch over there? TERESA No, silly, but I’ll have a little Danish down by then. I’ve already started. “Hallo og adjø.”[Include pronunciation if I can get it, which is “Hello and Goodbye” in Danish.] PAUL What’s that mean? (PAUL passes her the joint.) TERESA Hello and ... (TERESA pauses, as if she’s forgotten what it means, or doesn’t want to say. She looks down at the joint, then takes a hit. She has a distracted, stoned look.) TERESA I’ll pick it up soon enough, and Mark’s helping me study. Besides, everybody there already speaks English. PAUL Who’s Mark? TERESA He’s . . . a friend from the neighborhood. (TERESA takes another hit.) TERESA He’s a builder on Long Island. (TERESA looks at the joint again. Then she passes it to PAUL.) TERESA Whoa, this stuff is too good. Where’d ya get it from? PAUL Um, from you, I think, or Gary. Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl starts to play on the radio in the background. TERESA Laughs. Oh yeah. . . . Um, Paul? PAUL Yeah? TERESA I am really gonna miss you. PAUL I’ll miss you too. I’m glad you’re getting the chance to go, but I wish you were staying too. TERESA (TERESA puts her hand on the back of PAUL’s neck.) I’m here now. I’m not leaving for Denmark tonight. I don’t have to leave for anywhere tonight. (TERESA pulls them together for a long kiss.) TERESA Mmm... We still have time . . . They embrace and TERESA lies down on the bed, keeping them close. She takes PAUL’s hand in hers, kisses it, then holds it against her breast. PAUL Oh, Terry. I’ve wanted you for so long. And this feels so right. TERESA Shhh... It is right. No more talking. I love you. PAUL kisses her, and they caress. The lights begin a slow and steady dimming. PAUL I’ve always loved you, Terry. (PAUL starts to unbutton her blouse, opens it, and nuzzles her breasts.) TERESA Yes, like that. Mmmm . . . PAUL sits up and begins to take off his own shirt. TERESA sits up and removes her blouse and bra, then she and PAUL kiss again. She lies back, and in the almost dark, wriggles out of her jeans. TERESA Now we can make the bed shake... The lights go completely out, but the music continues to play, gradually fading. In the dark, occasional sighs from TERESA and PAUL can be heard in the background.
Act Four ANGELO and the elder PAUL are sitting on the park bench. The lower stage’s, B, lights remain dark as the upper’s lights stay on. Scene 1 PAUL Paul places his hands on his knees, and pushes himself up to stand. He begins to pace in front of the bench, making no more than two or three steps in any direction. Being friends . . . falling in love . . . it should have been a simple thing, but for me it was difficult. I had no sense of proportion, people were a complete mystery to me. What came so naturally to others was completely foreign in my mind. The closer someone was, the more confused I was about them. I didn’t understand anyone, not even myself. It’s ironic, I could comprehend complicated equations in physics, but a simple understanding of people eluded me. ANGELO You were young. It takes time to gain experiences. You can only learn to understand people by being with them; there are no books about this. Trial and error is the only way to do it. You just started a little later than some others, that’s all. Your time to flower was yet to come. PAUL I was twenty. It was already too late to start such experiments. Psychologists tell us some things have to be learned at a certain age, or they can never be learned at all. I never learned to understand people. It still amazes me, sometimes, how other people think. ANGELO Well, that is true for all of us. Things happen, and you deal with them in your own way, as best as you can. It seems you were working them out just fine.. PAUL It seemed so, but it was really the beginning of the end. We were too different in too many ways. Even the things we had in common we approached from completely different angles. She lived in the real world, passionately, while I lived in a theoretical and artificial construction of my own making, detached, removed from life and love. Terry was emotional and instinctive, and I was too cold and analytical for her. ANGELO (ANGELO moves from the side to the front of the bench, creating a barrier to PAUL’s movements. ANGELO’s very position is challenging, and his tone expresses disbelief of PAUL’s assumption.) Do you know this for sure? Did she say that to you? PAUL No, she didn’t have to, it was obvious. She saw the world as a grand adventure, something out there to be embraced and conquered. And that is what she did, she embraced life, actively and hungrily. I couldn’t deal with things that way. I had to internalize everything, think about things and reflect on them for a long time before I knew how I felt about them. Even then I always made the wrong decisions. How else could she have seen me? ANGELO How certain are you that she felt that way? PAUL How certain? I’ve thought about this for years. It couldn’t have been any other way. I knew her. I loved her. I thought she loved me. But within a year she married someone else.. . .I had a calculated plan, an inspired scheme, to change things, but it was pointless. I was not what she wanted or needed, that’s all. It would have frozen her spirit, drowned the fire of life she had, if I were with her. ANGELO What do you mean, what kind of “inspired scheme”? PAUL Well, I’m not proud of this. At the time all I knew was how desperately I wanted her. After she told me of her engagement, and I realized that I could not stop her, I made a painting for her, to be given to her as a wedding gift. I thought she would look on this idyllic painting and remember me, and whenever she had a problem in her marriage, this painting would make her imagine how things might have been. Eventually, it would have made her realize her mistake, and she would have come back to me. I really, truly intended for this painting to ruin her marriage. To this day, that thought pains me, not only for the wickedness of it but because it did not work. That painting was my greatest work of art ever . . . and my greatest failure. ANGELO Do you think a mere painting could have done that? PAUL Yes!That painting could have. I put my entire heart and soul into it; I gave it all of my attention and focus. I worked on it constantly for almost six months. I missed half of my senior year at Tech because of it. When it was done, even before that, while it was still in progress, you could see it was magical. ANGELO (Smiling wryly.) And what does a magical painting look like? PAUL (Almost with contempt.) I would have thought a real collector of art would know the answer to that already. (PAUL turns away, speaks more softly while looking down at the ground, his contempt turned toward himself. He takes two steps away from ANGELO.) PAUL I painted my life and my future on that canvas, not knowing at the time it would show my failure. It was a scene out of Lewis Carroll’sAlice in Wonderland, where Alice has a conversation with the caterpillar. That was Terry’s favorite part of her most beloved book; I still have the copy that she gave me. The painting was a landscape of a clearing at the edge of a forest. The first hints of autumn were showing in the trees. A trail ran along the edge of the rise, around the meadow, then turned and went into the forest. In the distance you could see cool, snow-capped mountains. Terry had spent some months in Denmark, and wrote about the landscape in her letters. She told me the mountains reminded her of a view she had while walking to school, except that she passed a signpost that was missing. So I asked her what it said, and painted it in, “Ballerup, 5 km.” ANGELO Almost like the view from here, eh? And I thought you said you didn’t like pretty pictures. PAUL This was notjusta pretty picture. The background was beautiful, yes, but the painting meant much more than that. Much more. I filled it with little details and surprises. I painted seventeen different animals throughout it, from a deer standing between the trees in the woods to a rabbit nibbling clover beside a log. There was a chipmunk gathering acorns, and a dragonfly clinging onto a blade of grass in the foreground. Everywhere you looked in the picture, there was some sign of vibrant life to be found. Peaceful harmony and happiness showed in every detail. ANGELO It does sound attractive, but hardly anything to ruin a marriage. PAUL There is more. It was highly personalized for Terry and myself. The meadow was scattered with different flowers; tulips, foxglove, all of Terry’s favorites, and especially mushrooms. I painted many mushrooms, six different species, each identifiable. The three closest ones were so near, you didn’t see where they touched the ground, and they seemed to just float in space at the bottom of the frame. It was an enchanting effect. But the most important mushroom was just left of center, in the middle of the clearing, a giant psilocybin mushroom made to look three feet tall. The surface of the mushroom glistened with the morning dew. (PAUL takes a moment to sit on the bench, somewhat sideways facing stage left, unconsciously replicating the position of the figure he describes in the painting.) PAUL There was a figure sitting atop this mushroom—me, a self portrait, dressed in a silken blue parade uniform I modeled after the Sgt. Pepper’s album. I had one pair of arms crossed against my chest and another pair of arms with my hands resting on my knees. You see, I was the caterpillar from the story. The four arms looked so natural, constructed within the lines and ornaments of the outfit, that you really had to look twice to understand the fantasy. Everyone who ever saw the painting would see this figure, then do a double take. When the realization of what the image was took hold, it just captured the imagination. . . . Across the center of the picture was Alice, sitting on the ground with her legs crossed. But Alice was not a little seven year old girl. Alice was full grown, a portrait of Terry wearing jeans and her favorite blouse with little yellow flowers embroidered on it. She even wore the earrings shaped like a comet I gave her for her birthday. The two figures in the picture were looking at each other with an expression of love and devotion; you could see that in their eyes, inour eyes. Between us was a golden jewel encrusted hookah, and the smoke that rose from the glowing embers drifted between us, formed a bridge that connected us throughout eternity. The picture was full of symbols and references that had deep meaning in our lives. I like to think it was a painting Bellini would have appreciated. It was . . . how can I say this . . . it was terribly real. I painted it with my brushes, but Terry gave it reality. We created it together. You cannot possibly understand what that painting was like, what it meant to us. ANGELO Yes, actually, I can. For you see . . . I own that painting. PAUL (Disbelieving, rising and leaning on the back of the bench, as if unbalanced by the statement.) What!? That’s impossible. How could you? ANGELO It’s all rather simple, really. I am Teresa’s brother. I knew who you were as soon as you mentioned meeting her in the bookstore. It is no coincidence that we met; Teresa has brought me here many times. She still comes to this spot. It reminds her of you, though when she is here, she does not speak of you. She does that when she looks at your painting. I feel because of that I have known you for forty years. It is almost as if, in a way, I have been waiting for you. PAUL (Visibly shaken, he falls back down onto the bench.) You let me speak like this, and you said nothing? ANGELO Yes, you needed to talk this all out yourself. You still do. Now tell me what went wrong ... The lights fade quickly. Scene 2 Shift back to the college dorm room as described before. Only the pictures above the bed have changed, so that now there are half a dozen of PAUL’s paintings there, only half in frames and one that’s barely begun. An easel somewhat in front of this desk holds a duplicate of the Alice in Wonderland painting described above, only in an unfinished state. To convey this to the audience, the entire forest region in the upper left hand corner should be left essentially white, as well as some of the foreground in the lower right, even though that is not how paintings actually progress (at the discretion of the stage manager). Young PAUL is standing, holding a palette, and working on the painting, turned halfway between the picture and facing the wall stage left. He is wearing old, faded and paint stained jeans, but without tears. His dark blue T-shirt is also slightly paint spattered and has Maxwell’s equations printed on it in white letters, in integral form on the front and differential form on the back. TERESA is sitting on the bed. She is dressed in the jeans and light blouse described previously, and she sits cross legged on the bed in the same position as in the painting. PAUL looks back to her and the picture as he works, making it clear she is posing TERESA (Gently, with concern.) You really should stop cutting so many of your classes to work on this picture. PAUL (Trying to sound more confident than he feels.) That doesn’t matter. I only cut the classes where I already know all the material. Besides, you can hardly understand the professor’s accent half the time anyway. If there’s any tough spot in some course, Gary’ll ask me to help, and I’ll look at his notes so I can explain it to him. It’s a perfect system, and everybody’s covered. TERESA I’m worried about you. It’s like you’re under so much pressure all the time. PAUL (Tensely, with obvious stress.) Look, I can handle school just fine. I don’t care if I get a couple ofC’s. Ihave to finish this painting in time for your wedding. If you don’t want me to hurry, why don’t you just call the wedding off for a while? TERESA That’s not fair. I can’t do that. PAUL (With sarcasm. Especially the term ‘realtor’ is used derisively, like an audible sneer.) I’m not fair? You’re gonna marry thatrealtor, andI’m the one who's not fair? TERESA (Angry herself, reacting to PAUL’s tone.) I told you, Mark’s adeveloper, not a realtor. I don’t wanna talk about this again. PAUL (Pointing to the album cover and the marijuana.) Fine. Roll up another one and talk about something else. TERESA (Distractedly. TERESA goes through the motions of rolling a joint, but doesn’t light it.) Can I put on some music? (TERESA looks over to the bureau, then around the room.) TERESA Hey, where’s your stereo? PAUL (PAUL goes over to TERESA and lifts her chin to adjust her pose. He speaks as he walks back to the painting, makes a few more strokes, then puts the palette down,) In E-lab. I gotta fix the power supply. TERESA Again? Can’t I just give you one that works? Look at all you’ve done for me. PAUL Sure. And bring your records too. You can stay here with them. Terry, c’mon, lots of guys have their girl live with them in the dorm. TERESA Dammit Paul! I’m getting married. I’m not your girl now, just a friend. I never really was your girl anyway. PAUL Why are you getting married? I thought you loved me. TERESA I did.I do. It’s not that simple. PAUL So explain it to me. I could figure it out if you’d tell me what’s happening. TERESA You just don’t know, you couldn’t possibly. I could never fit my life inside this room. Where would my piano go? Where would we keep my surfboard and skis? What about my dog? What about myfather? (TERESA laughs bitterly.) You can’t imagine what my father would do to you. . . . We live in two separate worlds, Paul. Look at your books. They’re almost all math. They don’t even look like English. Look at what you’re wearing! I can’t understand that, and I can’t understand you. PAUL That’s not really it, is it? What is it? Is Mark a better lover than I am. Is that it? TERESA (She speaks softly, with a tender expression.) No, of course not. You’re fine, it’s just . . . different. Paul, there’s too many things going on in my life to just change directions all of a sudden. You have no idea what my life is like when I’m not with you. You just don’t understand me at all. PAUL Look, I’m not asking you to give up anything for me. I’m sorry I’m not rich like Mark. Is that it? Is that so important? TERESA (She looks down and speaks softly and sorrowfully.) No, that’s not important tome. PAUL Besides, I’ll have money someday. I could make it as an artist, you said so yourself. You know my paintings are good enough. And if my theory works out, it could mean a couple of patents. Tony thinks we could make a million dollars eventually. Wouldn’t that be enough? TERESA (Almost in a desperate tone, straining to be understood.) No, it wouldn’t. Isaid the money’s not important. PAUL Then what is it? I love you, Terry. Isn’t that important? I thought what we had last summer meant something. TERESA It did. I can’t tell you how much. I needed you, and you wanted me. That’s all that mattered. It was right then. Everything was all right then. We had one perfect, lovely summer. Can’t you just accept that for what it was? PAUL No, I can’t just accept that. It wasn’t just lovely, it was love. Nothing’s changed the way I feel. TERESA With rising tension.) But everything else has changed. I can’t give you any more, it’s not mine to give now. PAUL (Very angrily.) Then what the hell does it take? TERESA Look, Paul, I have to live in the real world here. I can’t just turn away from everybody and go to some fairy-tale ivory tower. PAUL looks stunned by this remark, deeply hurt. TERESA’s expression shows immediate recognition of the effect of her words. TERESA Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. PAUL No, I never was part of your “real world,” was I? You wouldn’t let me in. That’s why I never met any of your friends, right? I’ll bet Mark’s the one who takes you and Debbie to the beach. I’ll bet most of your friends don’t even know about me. TERESA I know you. I know how special you are. None of my friends do. They think I’m nuts to keep coming here. My family doesn’t understand; dad never sees anything that isn’t business. Mark is the only one who really understands; that’s why he hates you so much. I wish we could all be friends, that it could all be different, but that’snot gonna happen. I can’t fix it. I wish I could, but Ican’t. (TERESA’s voice becomes very strained, quavers. She starts to cry, barely audibly, and becomes more upset by the moment.) TERESA Don’t you know how much this hurts me? PAUL No, I don’t know. I just can’t see how this is right for you; I know it’s not right for me. Things can change for me real soon. I’ll get a job instead of going to grad school; there’s lots of good prospects in computers. I could get a place then, and we could... TERESA (TERESA sniffles. She speaks snidely.) Listen to you. Just because we slept together for a few weeks you want to play house forever? This is nogame, dammit, this is real.I’m real. Did you ever loveme, or was it just some fantasy of love you made up? PAUL (Starts to walk over towards TERESA.) Maybe I didn’t know what love was before I met you, but I’ve grown a lot since then. You’ve taught me what life is about, what real love is. It wasn’t just some summer fling. You’ve gotta believe I really loved you. Don’t you? (TERESA calms down, nods her head yes.) PAUL And you said you loved me too. Right? You didn’t lie to me, did you? TERESA I never lied to you. At least, I didn’t mean to. I mean, I don’t know what the truth is anymore. I don’t know who says what the truth is, but it ain’t me. PAUL We can figure it out, Terry. We can make it work out. It’ll just take time. But then we could have all the time . . . PAUL reaches out to take hold of her, but is rebuffed. TERESA pulls briskly away before PAUL can make contact. TERESA No! Don’t! It’s too late now.. . .Why couldn’t you have been different before? Then maybe there could have been a chance for us, but not now. Things can’t be the way you want. They won’t be the wayI want either. We’re just not right for each other. You’ll find somebody else, way better for you than me, and I’ll . . . I’ll be . . . (TERESA starts crying more bitterly, unreservedly.) PAUL Why do I get the feeling I’m missing something here? Terry, this doesn’t make any sense. There won’t ever be anyone better for me than you. You’re the one who could do better; I know that. But Icould be what you want; I could be anything for you. I can change if you just tell me what you want.. . . It tears me up to see you like this. You’ve always been so strong. Don’t cry. We’ll find some way to make it all work out. . . . Can I get you a drink or something? Would that help? (TERESA nods her head yes.) PAUL Ok, the soda machine’s downstairs. Try to take it easy. I’ll be right back. (PAUL walks off stage left.) TERESA (Slowly regains her composure. Sighs. She lights the joint, takes two deep drags. She walks over to the painting, looks at it for a moment, and turns partially towards the audience. She talks into empty space.) Oh Paul, I don’t think you’ll ever know what it’s like. I would go with you if I could. If you’d ever be man enough to just make it happen. To hell with dad and what everyone else needs. You’re the only one who cares about whatI need, but you just don’t know. Nobody understands that, nobody seesme. . . . You’ll always be just a boy with little boy dreams; it’s what I love most about you, my dreamy boy. But you see me in a dream. If you could only see me in the light—see me for real. Would that spoil your vision of me? Would that spoil you? (TERESA turns to face the picture, reaches out a hand and touches the painting where the figure of PAUL is, stroking it. She starts to cry again, softly, still standing, for just a few moments. She kisses the tips of her fingers, then holds them against the image of PAUL on the picture. She addresses her words directly at the figure in the painting.) TERESA Paul, look at you, you seem so real. Is this really you? Take me away from this. Take me with you inside this painting, away from this greedy world, where we can be free. Justtake me, I won’t say no. We’ll run and hide away together for a few weeks, someplace quiet and still, where it’ll be just us, ‘till the wedding’s past. You cansave me. We’ll start out new, like it ought to be, you and me. Please . . . oh please. (TERESA stands silently in front of the picture, stroking the painted figure, sobbing without sounds for a few moments. PAUL returns a bit later holding a can of soda. He walks over to TERESA standing in the center of the stage before the painting. He opens the can in his left hand, holding it out to her.) PAUL What do you think? Does it seem right to you, with the . . . TERESA turns quickly and embraces PAUL. He hugs her back with his right arm, still holding the can of soda, but there is no place to put it down. They just stand together for a few moments. PAUL Hey, it’s gonna be OK, Terry. Listen, I’ve been thinking. You’re right, you’re always right about these things. I knew it, I just didn’t want to admit it, couldn’t face up to it myself. You have a real life waiting for you. I’m happy for you. More than anything I want what’s best for you. I was just being selfish before. PAUL tries to pull back and release TERESA, but they only separate a few inches, then TERESA pulls him back to her in a tight embrace, her head down, buried against his shoulder. She is still, not sobbing. There is a long, awkward pause. PAUL Here, have your drink, you’ll feel better. TERESA (She makes no move to move away. She speaks breathlessly.) Oh Paul, if I could only put the two of you together. PAUL steps back so he can look at her face, but he is still holding her. TERESA turns her head away from him. PAUL What? What did you say? What does that mean? TERESA It doesn’t mean anything, really. Not now. PAUL No, it does. I can see it on your face. It’s not all decided. There’s something you’re not telling me. TERESA There isn’t. I can’t. I just can’t. PAUL (PAUL speaks more forcefully.) Why not? You’ve got something to say, so say it. C’mon, give me a chance. TERESA (Suddenly very angry.) No. You’vehad your chance, plenty of them. (TERESA breaks away, quickly grabs her stuff off the bed, and pushes it all roughly into her handbag.) TERESA I can’t stay here any more, I gotta go. PAUL (Confused.) Hey, what’d I do? Terry, wait a minute. TERESA I’ve waited too long already. Weren’t youever listening? I gotta go. (TERESA rushes off stage left.) PAUL (Calls out to the door.) Terry! Wait a second! . . . Damn it! Wait! PAUL throws the full can of soda down on the floor. The soda explodes out of the can, like an outpouring of despair. PAUL Shit! PAUL runs over to the edge of the stage where TERESA exited, and just as he gets there the sound of another door slamming can be heard. He kicks a book that’s on the floor across the room, and it hits the easel with the painting on it and knocks it over. PAUL leans against the door frame and slides to a sitting position on the floor, his head in his hands. PAUL Damn! The lights fade quickly and go out. Act Five All scenes take place in the park. The lights on both stages, A and B, stay on full brightness throughout. ANGELO and PAUL remain visible on the upper stage throughout this act, but keep their motion to a minimum for scene 1; they are to be silent witnesses to this scene, not participants. Scene 1 The younger TERESA and PAUL are in the lower stage, B. They come on stage together, from stage left, walking slowly, holding hands but not walking close together. They stop when they are just under the bench where the elder PAUL and ANGELO are above. The younger PAUL is dressed in black dress pants and a solid, dark shirt. TERESA is wearing dark red jeans and a sleeveless blouse. There are the quiet sounds of birds occasional chirping in the background. PAUL As they are walking along. I can’t believe you’re really getting married Sunday. TERESA Me neither. This whole week has been unbelievable. I hardly know what’s happening moment to moment. It’s been so hectic, I hate it. Everybody telling me what to do all the time. I had to sneak out even for this time for myself. And I have so little time. Everybody’s probably going crazy looking for me already. PAUL Well, I’m glad you’re here. PAUL and TERESA turn so they face each other. TERESA Then, you’re not still mad at me? PAUL No, of course not. How could I stay angry at you? I’m just very confused, that’s all. TERESA I know, and I’m sorry. There isn’t time to explain it now, but I will someday. PAUL Sure, someday. You want to sit down for a while, get a bite of pizza to eat? TERESA Ugh, pizza, that’s all I’ve been eating lately. No, thanks, but I can’t. I have to head back in a minute. PAUL Terry, I don’t know how to say goodbye to you. TERESA Then don’t. This isn’t goodbye. It’s a wedding, not an execution. I’ll only be away until December. I’m sorry I’m gonna miss your show. You’re still gonna do it, right? (PAUL nods his head yes.) TERESA So tell me how it was when I get back. There’s really a lot of things I want to talk to you about then. PAUL I don’t know. That’s months from now. Look what happened the last time you went away. I get the feeling I might not see you again. TERESA Don’t worry, you will. You can be sure of that. After all the things we’ve shared, you think we could let that go? Don’t be silly. PAUL Like everything is going to be the same way it always was? TERESA Yeah, like that. Why not? PAUL You really think Mark is gonna let you go to the Frick with me anymore? TERESA You really think I’d let him try and stop me? PAUL This doesn’t sound good. I don’t want to cause you any trouble. Things will be different. TERESA I don’t know. Maybe. And for you too. You gotta start thinking about that new job of yours right now. Aren’t you excited about that? PAUL I guess so. Who’d have thought I’d start off consulting right away? TERESA I did. I always believed in you, even when you didn’t. As long as you’re sure its what you really want. I’m just surprised; I expected you to go right on for your Ph.D. PAUL (PAUL looks at her directly, holds her gaze to convey his meaning, without saying it in particular.) Nah, I’ve had it with school for awhile. It’s time I got into the real world and make something of my life. It might come in handy someday . . . Terry . . . I’ll go back for my degree later. TERESA No, I’m afraid that won’t happen. You’ll get a promotion and make more and more money, and you’ll forget how you used to talk with the stars. (TERESA takes PAUL’s hands in hers, so that her left hand holds his right and her right hand holds his left, and takes half a step closer to him. Her tone becomes colored with emotion.) TERESA And I’m afraidI did this to you. I don’t want you to change to try to please me. Please don’t let it turn out like that. I won’t let you allow that to happen. I couldn’t bear it. PAUL What are you talking about? This doesn’t sound like you. TERESA (Raises a hand to wipe one tear from her eye.) Oh, I don’t know anything anymore, except I can see you’re leaving me. PAUL Paul moves in closer to Teresa, but they remain separated by several inches. Terry, you’re talkingcrazy here. I’m not going anywhere;you’re the one getting married. TERESA Teresa ignores Paul’s statement. She looks at him, and leans towards him, halfway closing the gap between then. She is close enough to kiss him, wanting to kiss him, but restraining herself. She puts her hand on his shoulder. Promise me you’ll stay the same. Promise me you won’t change into somebody like Mark. PAUL (Lightly, almost joking.) Hey, that wouldn’t be so bad now, would it? Mark has you, doesn’t he? TERESA (TERESA pulls back abruptly, offended that PAUL doesn’t understand.) Don’t talk like that. I don’t wanna start crying again. PAUL What did I say? Terry, I don’t understand what’s going on here. Are youOK? TERESA I’ll be fine. It’syou I’m worried about. PAUL Huh? TERESA Never mind. Look, I gotta get back before they send the dogs out after me. Promise me, OK? PAUL Promise what? TERESA That you won’t let go, that you’ll never forget. Just promise me. PAUL (Spoken in a puzzled tone, to make it clear he really does not understand what TERESA is asking for.) Yeah, sure. For you, anything. I promise. TERESA (She leans over and kisses him, just grazing his cheek.) OK. I really gotta go. Good . . . I’ll see ya. OK? PAUL Yeah, OK. See ya. TERESA turns, and walks off to stage right. PAUL watches her silently. After a few steps, she turns to look back at PAUL, but continues walking to the right. Then she turns and walks offstage. Just when she turns away the last time, PAUL takes a step towards her, then stops. There is a quiet pause. Just before TERESA is offstage, he speaks in a soft tone, not to TERESA, but to himself. PAUL Goodbye, Terry. Goodbye. He stands there a moment longer, still looking towards her exit. As soon as TERESA is offstage, PAUL turns and starts walking briskly off towards stage left, picking up his pace until he is practically running at the exit. Scene 2 Still in the park, no changes to the scenery or lighting or anything. Only the length of the pause between action separates the scenes. The lights stay on at the same level at first, but very gradually dim during the scene as if twilight is approaching. A few of the city lights in the background come on sporadically; this should be hardly noticeable at the present level of lighting. There should be some motion of the actors on the upper stage to transition the audience’s attention before the dialogue begins. PAUL You see, there was no way a relationship between Terry and me could have worked. I was wrong for her from the beginning. I was only deluding myself, and she didn’t feel about me as I felt towards her. ANGELO No. She loved you. . . . More than you know, perhaps more than anyone else. But there were practical difficulties. For one thing, she was afraid that she was not bright enough for you. She feared that her ignorance of science would hold you back from what you were capable of, or that she would embarrass you in front of your peers. PAUL But that’s nonsense. Inever thought of her as inferior; never putany requirements on her. ANGELO It was her own insecurity, a disability if you will. She was hopeless at math. Arithmetic was almost beyond her, and you simply awed her. Meeting you, with your knowledge and easy ability for science, heightened this anxiety in her. Try as she did, she could not even begin to comprehend what you understood so casually. And she did try; did you know she signed up for a physics class, and asked me to tutor her? It was a dismal failure. It simply wasn’t in her nature. PAUL As if that mattered. ANGELO Well, it distressed her; for a while she was afraid you would think her dull if she couldn’t share this interest with you. PAUL Terry was never dull, not in any sense. Anyone could see she was intelligent. She could talk about art or music or literature with knowledge and insight. We enjoyed sharing these common interests, and so many other things. Why should any little differences matter? ANGELO The little ones didn’t. She recognized the differences between you both and generally found them a positive thing. But, she was a passionate, active woman, and she found your shyness and inhibitions to be frustrating. She thought that you would grow beyond this, that she could teach you about this part of life. She often dreamt about that; she’d walk about for days in a distracted haze. I found this so funny, my little sister who was otherwise so grown up and worldly wise acting like a lovesick puppy. I don’t think you ever understood how deeply she loved you and how much you meant to her. She wouldn’t push you though; she thought it necessary for you to come to terms with it yourself. PAUL Iwas learning. Knowing Terry was the experience that helped me to grow. Surely there was more to it than that. ANGELO Yes, considerably more. It was a complicated thing. Family was always important to us; it still is. Our line goes far back, and we hold to many of the old ways. We were also wealthy as a group and accustomed to power. The elders of the family were conceited enough to model themselves after the de’ Medici’s. But the politics of the times during the fifties and sixties strained our reserves, and the family’s position began to erode. Marco’s family was not politically active themselves, instead they relied on our influences. By then they had far greater financial resources. It became necessary to unite the two dynasties, and the traditional way to do this was through marriage. It is a very ancient custom. I know it sounds medieval today, but that was the way it was. Teresa, as strong as she was, could do nothing about that. Indeed, her marriage was more or less arranged from the time she was a small child. She grew to understand that, though she fought it until the inevitable finally happened. PAUL I never knew that. So they used her like a pawn in their game of power. Their own child? That’s contemptible. And I can’t imagine Terry taking a willing part in it! ANGELO She was not so much willing as resigned. And do not judge the family or Teresa too harshly in this; you did not share our cultural history or upbringing. PAUL But had I known, I could have done something. I never thought of money as important, but I could have. I was confident that I could have been very successful, if there was a reason to be. And I would gladly have done whatever was necessary to provide Terry anything she needed. ANGELO That would have been the worst thing you could have done. She didn’t want to change you; didn’t want you to change for her. This was hard for her, because she sensed you might change to meet her family’s standards of wealth and power. That would have hurt her more than anything else; for you to destroy your true self for her. Especially as she herself never cared about money or public influence either. She saw you as unsullied by these concerns, and this pleased her immensely. And you could never have purchased her freedom; we are talking about the kind of wealth that builds in a family over generations. PAUL But why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she give me time to prove myself? If she didn’t care about their politics, why did she go through with the wedding? ANGELO She simply had no other choices; the concept of choice in such matters had been bred out of us a long time beforehand. And she did care for Marco, even if it lacked passion. So, she accepted her situation and performed her part as a member of the family. The ceremony accomplished, she went on to make the best of her life. Overall she was genuinely happy. She would always be happy, one way or another, no matter what her circumstances. However, there was one thing that gave her doubts and misgivings about her life. Your painting. PAUL I am sorry for that—now more than ever. I never knew what the situation really was. ANGELO (Making a grand gesture by moving his hand in a wide arc in front of his chest, as if physically brushing something away.) Well, don’t let it bother you any longer; there’s more to the story. After the honeymoon, when she moved into their brownstone, she hung the picture over the mantle. Marco recognized the portraits and immediately became furious. He insisted that she could not have it, and they fought bitterly. Teresa, to her credit, was unyielding. Before that, Marco had not fully known what a strong-willed hellcat he had been given. The realization frightened him. Oh, they came to terms and found a truce, but that was the tone of their marriage. Rather than Marco being the absolute head of the household as he always assumed, Teresa never granted him that power over her. Not that she would have anyway. I never cared much for Marco myself, so I found it all rather amusing. PAUL Yet, she does not have the painting, you do. I had the feeling she didn’t keep it, or I would have heard from her somehow. ANGELO Perhaps that is true. The family all knew how she felt. After the wedding, she was forbidden to see you. That too she fought—even defying our father. Teresa, always headstrong, became insufferably stubborn. I don’t think she let dad tell her anything after that. It reached such a crises that our grandfather, the “frail Old Man,” stepped in. (ANGELO straightens up, showing old habits. The self-satisfied smile drops.) ANGELO Don’t let the description fool you, no one would call him that in his presence. He was the patriarch of all, the irresistible force. At this point it was rare for him to intervene, but Teresa simply gave the family no choice. He told her that she had to get rid of the painting immediately, or it would be destroyed. And had you tried to continue your affair, well, the old codes are fairly rigid and very harsh. PAUL My plan . . . all the pain it caused . . . I’m sorry. ANGELO The pain was placed there by other events long before you ever met Teresa. Your painting merely brought it into focus. But there is more. I am the only one who knows what else they said; such private meetings are not normally talked about, and you were in some jeopardy. She could not tolerate the thought of your picture being lost, or worse, you. Still, instead of accepting his ultimatum, Teresa bargained with him. He guaranteed his protection of you in exchange for her vow to never see you again and to perform a proper role as Marco’s wife. The next day she took your painting down. She said she went to some gallery in Greenwich Village and sold it for one hundred dollars. Marco liked that, thinking he had won the battle and profited by it as well, but not too much. The poor fool wanted to believe that painting wasn’t valuable, when it was worth a hundred times that price. PAUL Then, I still don’t understand how you have it. ANGELO The fact is Teresa had given it to me; she’d never have simply discarded it like that. And she insisted I give her the hundred dollars for it too. I wasn’t happy about that, but she was stubborn! All in all, it wasn’t a bad investment. Now, I have it hung in my private library, a room where only I and Teresa ever go. She still comes to look at it, and she is always sparkling and smiling when she does, with that same puppy-like expression she showed so long ago. PAUL She did that for me? No, it was not a fair bargain, to give herself up like that. ANGELO The decision was inevitable—of that there was no question. Only the exact terms of her behavior were negotiated. Had she not agreed, she would have been forever miserable, and you, my friend, would not have been happy either. So as it was, she accepted her reality, and made the best of her situation. PAUL Yes, that does sound like her. She hasn’t changed then? ANGELO No, of course not. How could she? The girl you knew still lives on, inside her heart and mind. She has grown, and added to it, but her central self, the one you knew, will always be there. She doesn’t let anyone see her like that, except her daughter and me, and a very few friends. We know her. PAUL Yes, you said she has a daughter. Tell me about her. ANGELO Michelle was born two years after the wedding. Teresa’s marriage to Marco wasn’t based on love, though they did enjoy each other’s company in their own way. When Michelle was born, Teresa achieved a state of pure joy and love. Michelle gave her mother life, as much as Teresa gave her life, perhaps even more so. Immediately mother and daughter grew very close, although Teresa and Marco grew apart. Michelle is a fine young woman, strong and independent. She and her mother are kindred spirits. Michelle teaches music at the Conservatory now. That girl always was a natural. If you met Michelle today, I venture to say you would find her very familiar. PAUL I am glad to hear that. I’ve often wondered if Terry had found the happiness I lacked, the happiness I always felt she deserved. ANGELO Well, she has made a good life for herself. But what of you? Did you ever go back for your degree? PAUL No, Terry was right about that too. The computer work I did was mildly challenging, and I did enjoy it somewhat. It paid well, especially when I had to go out to customer sites and fix their problems. After a few years, I got married and had children myself, moved to the suburbs, and became a respectable and conventional person, indistinguishable from every other person in the town. I had never expected things to turn out like that. Had I been asked earlier what my future would hold, this is the last thing I would have imagined. ANGELO It sounds as if you achieved the American dream. But you do not seem happy about that. PAUL No, I was not. My marriage was not a good one; in fact it was rather terrible, but I stayed with it through all those years for the sake of the children. Not traumatic, just. . . empty, cold and lifeless. Year after year rolled by, and I forgot my dreams and ambitions. I no longer had the passion to understand the universe that made my life worthwhile. I did let go of who I was. Then each year came to resemble the one before it, each the same, and life became. . .insipid. Even my artwork was unsatisfying; I could never recapture that presence or meaning in art I had put into my earlier paintings. Eventually the marriage ended in divorce, and I never looked for another relationship. Soon, before I realized how much time had passed, my children had grown and I was alone. Now, I think about the people I have known in the past, especially Terry, but they are all shadows. I have become just a shadow myself. ANGELO (With a hint of defiance, as if refusing to allow PAUL to remain as a shadow, not merely a statement that he is not.) That cannot be. You are, now, the same person you were then, I can see it in everything you’ve said today. You have changed remarkably little in all this time. You haven’t allowed yourself to be happy, that is all. PAUL (His tone is unsteady. He simply does not understand ANGELO’s statement.) Allowed myself? ANGELO Yes. Happiness can be a choice, independent of all your other circumstances. Look inside yourself, and you’ll see what I’m talking about. You have allowed your situations to define your life; you’ve abandoned yourself to the arbitrary wiles of chance. You’ve let everything take control over you, when instead you could have controlled everything yourself. You are separate from the things that surround you. But there is still that core of self that goes on, even when you don’t give it the attention it is due. It is never too late to look for it; you’ll be amazed at what you’ll find.‘You’ still live there, as does your vision of Teresa, and your children, and everything else. Circumstances cannot change what you are, but they can be used. The events in your life are the tools to let you sculpt what you will make of yourself; all you need do is hold out your hands to grasp those tools. Recognize and accept who that essential ‘you’ is, and then make of it whatever you wish. PAUL Perhaps we are the sculptorand the stone, the hammerand the hand that wields it. Maybe you are right. I feel that I am also right. Whoever’s right, the truth is more than either of us have said.. . .Maybe some things never did change. (PAUL looks around, and sees that it is getting dark.) PAUL (Standing.) It is getting late, and I must go. The next time you see Terry, tell her . . . Tell her . . . No, I don’t know what I could say to her. . . . Tell her I may have forgotten the names of the stars, but I will always remember hers. ANGELO I will tell her. You have my word on that. PAUL Thank you for this talk. I do appreciate everything you’ve said. It’s been interesting, and in a way comforting. You’ve answered questions I’ve always wondered about, quieted some of my doubts. PAUL raises his hand to ANGELO in a goodbye gesture. ANGELO nods in return. They do not say goodbye to each other. PAUL walks four or five steps to stage left, then stops, and, with sudden determination, turns towards ANGELO. He stands straight and tall now, showing strength and assurance. He raises his right hand, pointing out towards ANGELO. PAUL’s tone is forceful and challenging. PAUL No, you are wrong. You think all the defining moments of your life are interchangeable. You said it could be one woman or another, it wouldn’t matter, but it does. It has to. If you can trade one experience for any other, you can trade it for nothing as well. Then all you have is nothing. But love is something, it is everything, and that means pain and uncertainty as well. And while I’ve known pain, I’ve known love too. Maybe I haven’t been very happy, but I’ve had at least a moment when I’d been very alive. Whether it was enjoyable or not, whether I understood it or not, I lived it. And I’ve lived in others lives, and they in mine. I wouldn’t trade that for anything. You can’t say any of that. . . . Terry, and other friends, enriched my life beyond what I might have chosen for myself . So I never made that kind of choice. The people I’ve known, the ones I cared about, I didn’t decide to only let a part of them in. Real people can’t fit through such a narrow door. You have to throw it wide open, or be trapped behind it yourself. There’s no guarantee of happiness out there, but there is life. That’s how I feel, and I know it’s right. . . . When you see Terry,that is what you can tell her for me. PAUL stands still for a brief moment, then turns again, and walks confidently off stage left, where he first came in. The lights dim slightly. ANGELO watches him depart, picks up the book, and fingers through it without looking. He becomes perfectly still for a few moments, to designate the end of the scene, as there are no other indications of this change.
Scene 3 The upper stage’s, A, lights again dim slightly, but the lamppost lights come on, providing similar illumination but more focused on the upper stage area. Most of the lights in the city backdrop are on now, and they glow more brightly. ANGELO sits idly, picking up his book, flipping through a few pages, but isn’t reading. He takes out another cigarette and lights it, smoking for a while. TERESA as an older woman walks in from stage right, stopping on the near side of the bench. ANGELO rises to greet her. TERESA places her left hand on ANGELO’s arm, and looks around the park, lingering in the direction where PAUL exited. TERESA These dinner meetings can be such a drag. I swear, some of these men can’t make any decisions before their third drink. ANGELO Everything went well? All the issues resolved? TERESA No, but enough of the important ones to be good progress. You’ll finish the rest of them by next month. Schedule two hours with the lawyers, and we’ll go over what you need to know. ANGELO (Nods his acceptance.) I’ll have it arranged. Now, before we talk business, I have something else to tell you. TERESA (Waits for ANGELO, impatient when he does not volunteer the information.) Well, what is it? ANGELO I met an old friend today, someone you knew. TERESA One of your old girlfriends, Angelo? You’ve had so many of them, I couldn’t get to know one before there was another. ANGELO No, a man. One of yours. Paul. You remember him. TERESA Who? C’mon, no more guessing games. Are you going to tell me or not? ANGELO Paul, the boy who paintedAlice. Surely you haven’t forgotten? TERESA (She looks around.) Of course I haven’t forgotten. He was here? When? ANGELO Yes, my dear, he was. He has been coming here, on occasion, all these years. Before he left, he asked me to tell you some things. Would you like me to do that now? TERESA You spoke with him about us? Tell me everything. ANGELO We had a long talk. First, he asked me to say that he loves you. It was clear he has never stopped loving you. You understand that. TERESA I hoped for that, or he would have hated me for abandoning him. That’s what anyone else would have done. ANGELO He’s had a good life, successful and fulfilling. You would be proud of him. And he never knew, Teresa, of your pain or the part he played in it. TERESA No, I’d expect not. Paul was always naive about such things. ANGELO He’s raised some fine children, still spends most of his time with them. TERESA Yes, I knew of his children. Nancy would tell me how Paul was doing, for as long as he kept visiting the bookstore. She said his twins were a beautiful surprise to him. ANGELO He had another boy, years after the twins. Did you know that? TERESA Shaking her head no. His life sounds so full and happy. He must have had a wonderful family. That’s good. I’m glad to know after all this time at least one of us has been happy. ANGELO (At TERESA’s words, ANGELO looks down, then back at TERESA. He seems hesitant. He raises his right arm, stops, then puts his arm around TERESA’s shoulders, in a gesture reminiscent of how NANCY did earlier.) Sister, I’ve learned something today. I’ve seen that reality might be larger than I’ve suspected. I’ve wanted you to think that Paul has been happy, to comfort you, but that is not quite true. He has never felt right without you. And now, I no longer think I understand how you or anyone might feel. TERESA (A look of concern crosses her face. She touches ANGELO’s cheek, looks closely into his eyes.) Angelo, this doesn’t sound like you. What are you trying to say? ANGELO That maybe I’ve been wrong about some things. That perhaps it is time to right the wrongs in our lives. Teresa, Marco is dead, and the Old Man is long forgotten; there is no threat to Paul. Perhaps you should go to him now. No one would begrudge you this any longer. TERESA When Mark died, I would have gone to Paul, except I knew he was married and had children. Michelle would have loved a larger family then, she kept asking for brothers and sisters, but I could never remarry. One marriage was enough sadness for me, and I knew what I wanted was just not possible. ANGELO This is no longer about what was then, but about now. There are other opportunities now, new chances. TERESA Chances for what? To reminisce about old times? To catch up on all those years? No, it wouldn’t be wise. We couldn’t recapture what we had; we could never have what might have been. It’s best to leave it like this. Let Paul keep his illusions of me. ANGELO And do you think the illusion of you would please him more than the reality? I think Paul is more man than that. And you are more woman than that. TERESA It’s been so long. I’ve changed; I’m no longer the young girl he thinks of. ANGELO Teresa, you don’t know what he thinks of you now. You have both been denying what is best in yourselves, to preserve this illusion of each other. Don’t you remember how you fought the entire family for his sake? Perhaps you should fight yourself now for the same cause. TERESA And will you finally join in the fight this time? ANGELO Yes, as I did before. The Old Man knew you did not sell Alice, he was never ignorant of anything that happened. Surely you knew he couldn’t be easily deceived, even by his favorite granddaughter. He called me in for a command audience with him, the only time he had ever done that. I was afraid, but I assured him that you had made all the concessions you could have and would compromise no further, yet would keep to your commitment. I pledged my own honor upon your word; you know what that means. TERESA He knew? And you convinced him to allow it? I didn’t know that. But how could you help me now? Can you restore my youth so that we can start a new love affair? Loosen my fingers so I can play the piano again? Can you turn me back into the girl in the painting, the girl of his dreams? ANGELO Sister, that is of no importance, dreams are nothing compared to the real life you and he can share. Let him decide if you’ve changed, or if you are still the same person. Not the woman he dreamt of, but the woman he knew. . . . It’s true, you will never have what might have been, but you can have what yet might be. You will never know unless you allow yourselves to try. TERESA I want to, yes, but I have lived a lifetime without such love. It would have been so much easier to take it then, but I’m afraid of it now. ANGELO When has fear ever stopped you before? You know who you are, and what you can confront and conquer. You have always challenged the impossible alone, surely the two of you could do it together. Paul and you created a painting that is alive, from that which was but a fairytale, and made of that something very real. You did this together;he said so. You know that is true, I can see it in your face whenever you look at it. You can do that again, this time with your lives, not only with a canvas. TERESA Do you believe this would be what he wants? So, after all these years, he’s kept the promises he never understood. I’ve been so unfair to him, and now we’ve lost the best times we might have had. Oh, he must think it terrible of me, never to have tried to reach him . . . and now I wouldn’t even know where to find him. ANGELO Well, he did mention about having supper somewhere. Let me think... Yes, the Park Pub. You know the place. I’d wager we could find him there. TERESA (TERESA adjusts her sweater, in a barely noticeable primping movement. She looks from side to side, feeling uncertain. She looks out over the lower stage.) No. I don’t know. Angelo, I’d like to think, and I need to be alone for now. I’ll stop by your house later, and we’ll talk then. (TERESA makes a small waving gesture with her hand, as if dismissing ANGELO.) You go ahead, and fix yourself a drink. I’ll be fine. ANGELO (ANGELO turns to face TERESA. He again assumes an attitude of formal elegance. He leans towards her, takes her hands in his, holding them as he speaks.) Of course, as you wish. Take your time. ANGELO bows slightly and walks to stage right. TERESA does not change her stance, nor look at ANGELO’s departure. She is looking in the direction where PAUL exited. ANGELO goes almost completely across the stage, turns, and briefly looks back at TERESA. Then he exits. TERESA (Musing to herself. She walks down to the lower stage as she speaks.) What should I do? And what would it mean if we did get together again? Even if he would have me. We’d have a few years to watch each other decay. Why would he want to kiss this old face? (TERESA stops walking. Her voice becomes hesitant and tremulous. She puts her hand on her cheek.) TERESA (She touches her lips with her fingers.) To kiss . . . To hold hands . . . to touch . . . (TERESA crosses her arms against herself, hugging the sweater to her.) TERESA Is it even possible, after so many years have passed by, that he still feels like he did before, that he truly does love me? What might he say if I met him again? What would I say . . . TERESA’s thoughts are interrupted by the action of the kite from the first scene, which blows in from stage left, spotlighted for emphasis, and tumbles along the ground, moving halfway across the stage, then stops. TERESA walks over to it, picks it off the ground and turns it in her hands, studying it. TERESA (Speaking to the kite.) You too. I understand you. They held you, and they let you go. They broke your heart. . . . What would you do? Would you want the sky, or the string? TERESA tosses the kite up over her head, but the air is still, and it just flutters back to the ground. TERESA No, you’re not broken. You just can’t fly by yourself. It’s not the string you need, but the hand that holds it. TERESA looks up and smiles. TERESA walks determinably off stage left, towards where PAUL had exited earlier. The stage remains quiet and empty for a few brief moments. A breeze comes in again from stage left, and the kite slides off to stage right, momentarily becoming airborne as it exits. The curtain begins to fall and the lights dim, as Joni Mitchell’s “Circle Game” begins to play in the background and goes on to completion. Yesterday a child came out to wonder THE END Encounter In the Park © Robert Cairone, 2002 - 2010 |