The Jubjub Birds

a play in one act

by

B. H. Triber

This script is the sole property of the playwright. As such, it may not be produced, performed, reproduced, recorded, transmitted, retransmitted, in any form, format, or media in part or in whole without the express written permission of the playwright. Additional copies of this script must be obtained through the playwright. All United States Copyright Laws and International Copyright Laws apply.

Cast of Characters

Doris Adams - late 70’s
Marsha Flint - the knitter, late 70’s
Irene Bailey - early 80’s
Helen Bryce - the hostess, late 70’s
Nathaniel Cummings - the author, late 30’s

Time: the present
Place: a garden in the well-to-do section of town

[Curtain opens on a cool lit garden furnished with a cocktail table at center and chairs surrounding it. Draped upon the chairs are striped knitted throws, of various colors and white stripes separating each.]

[When the curtain rises, Doris sits, reading Alice in Wonderland. Marsha sits with knitting needles. She is just beginning a new color in a new throw. Irene fixes the centerpiece on the table. Doris looks up impatiently.]

Doris
What time is it?

Marsha
Two minutes after you last asked.

Irene
It’s twelve fifty-five, dear.

Doris
Thank you Irene. (Pause.) What time is he supposed to be here?

Marsha
The same time as the last time you asked.

Irene
Marsha…

Marsha
You haven’t been listening to this for three hours nonstop.

Doris
I’m just impatient. That’s all. I always have been.

Marsha
Doris, you act the same way every time we have tea, like some school girl who’s seen a boy’s forbidden fruits for the first time…

Doris
Marsha!

Marsha
…and now you want to climb the tree. At your age you should be ashamed. You should at least try to act more maturely.

Irene
I don’t see anything wrong with it. Let her act as she pleases.

Marsha
It’s shameful. You never acted like this when Henry was alive.

Doris
That’s because he was alive. I’m much happier now.

Irene
(Examining the ground.) I can feel him rolling in his grave.

Doris
Let him. He’s doing more rolling now that he ever did in the sack.

Marsha
Doris, that’s horrible!

Doris
Horrible would have been an improvement.

Marsha
You shouldn’t talk about him like that, after he left you all that money.

Doris
I earned every penny of it. And it started right after the wedding. The moment I said, “I do,” he decided not to.

Irene
That’s horrible.

Doris
I didn’t think so at the time. Then again, I had never seen a man naked before. They look so funny, it was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud.

Marsha
Must we talk about this?

Doris
There we were laying in bed, Henry in his boxer shorts and reading the newspaper, and me staring at the ceiling. All I can remember thinking to myself is, “Is this it? Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?” Then I fell asleep. It doesn’t take much to put me out.

Marsha
That’s good to know.

Doris
Next thing I know, I’m woken out of a sound sleep by the feel of Henry’s hot hands tugging on my nightshirt. I didn’t know what to expect.

Irene
Did you get what you expected?

Doris
Well, I didn’t expect what I got. There he was, all naked, with a grin on his face like a little boy in the candy shop. I screamed and slapped him hard. The last thing I remembered was that I kicked out at him. (Looks at others.) Well, he frightened me. Imagine waking a person up like that. The next morning I found him sleeping on the floor. That’s when we decided to get twin beds.

Marsha
Doris, you really should learn to keep your ghosts in their closets.

Irene
It’s good to shake their sheets out once in a while. It gets rid of the moth flakes.

Marsha
The last thing I wanted imprinted on my mind was the image of one of my sisters having sex.

Irene
Don’t blame Doris for your overactive imagination, Marsha.

Marsha
I don’t have an overactive imagination. She’s obsessed with sex.

Doris
I am not. I just enjoy it when it’s good. Unlike some…

Marsha
I don’t go around acting as though I’m courting every visitor we have.

Doris
Neither do I. Well, not every one of them.

Marsha
Just about. You shouldn’t act so friendly to them all the time. Especially after some of the things they say.

Doris
Well I didn’t like them after they said those things.

Marsha
The last one wanted to raise the property tax, and you warmed up to him as though he were a stray cat in a blizzard.

Doris
It was July.

Marsha
He was young enough to be your son.

Doris
Marsha, can I let you in on a little secret? You’re only as old as you act. I want to stay young for as long as I can. The moment I start acting my age, I’ll start knitting.

Irene
I thought you liked knitting.

Doris
I used to. But I haven’t knitted a stitch since the day Henry died, and I don’t want to start into it again. If I do, someday I’ll discover that I can’t lift my needles anymore. I just can’t bear the thought of it. That’s why I don’t act my age. If I acted my age, I’d be as grumpy as you are.

Marsha
I’m not grumpy!

Irene
You’re grumpy. We’re all grumpy. Except for Doris.

Doris
You know what you need? You need a pet. A nice dog, or a cat.

Marsha
I’m allergic to cats. And dogs.

Doris
Then a bird. You need a bird.

Marsha
No. Never again. I had one once. Once was enough.

Irene
I didn’t know you had a bird.

Marsha
It was a yellow cockatiel. Alex got it for me for Christmas one year. It was the loudest damn bird you’d ever heard. It used to wake up the neighbors at two o’clock in the morning, so you can imagine what it was like having it in the bedroom.

Doris
Well, there must be some sort of pet you would like.

Marsha
I don’t want a pet.

Doris
But it would keep you young.

Marsha
I don’t want to be kept young. I want to grow old in the most hideous way possible. I want to become monstrously deformed to scare the hell out of my children, and then die on Christmas just to spite them.

Irene
I think that that’s just the most horrible thing I think I’ve ever heard you say.

Doris
What about taking up a hobby? Like collecting things.

Irene
Like what?

Doris
Coins? Stamps?

Marsha
Dust. That’s the last thing I need is a hobby.

Doris
What about reading a good book once in a while?

Marsha
I read.

Irene
Yes, newspapers. Those headlines are enough to make Donna Reed turn to drink. It’s all so depressing. You need to read something a little more… cheerful. Like what Doris reads.

Doris
Yes. Like Alice in Wonderland.

Marsha
Rot.

Doris
It isn’t. It’s very thought provoking.

Marsha
You might as well watch cartoons for all the thoughts it provokes.

Doris
You’re wrong, Marsha. Here, I’ll read a little.

Marsha
Oh, please...

Irene
You ought to at least give it a chance.

Doris
It’s just a poem. It can’t hurt.

Marsha
Fine. One poem.

Doris
(Flips through the book.) Ah. Here it is. Jabberwocky.

“‘Twas brillig, and the slivey toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
and the mome raths outgrabe

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
the frumious Bandersnatch!

He took his vorpal sword in hand...

Marsha
Yes, very thought provoking. Thank you.

Doris
You didn’t even give it a chance.

Marsha
It’s all nonsense, gibberish.

Irene
It’s fantastical. It doesn’t need to make sense.

Marsha
There isn’t even enough there to follow it. Slimey toads dancing in the sea.

Doris
That’s slivey toves in the wabe.

Marsha
What in the world are Jubjub birds?

Doris
I don’t know, but they’re dangerous.

Marsha
I’ll say. They turn your brain to mush. No thank you. If that’s the type of reading you want me to do, I’d rather stare at the wall.

Irene
You’re grumpy. And if you keep up with that attitude, you’ll be dead before the rest of us.

Marsha
Good.

Doris
You’re morbid.

Marsha
There’s no sense in fighting it. And going gracefully is not my idea of fun. You should just give in to it while you have the energy to.

Doris
They’ll have to shackle me into my coffin and weld it shut.

Marsha
Well, it’s going to happen eventually.

Doris
The difference is, you’ll see it coming. I want it to sneak up on me.

Marsha
You’re deluding yourself. Whether you ignore it or not, it sneaks up on you. That’s the nature of the beast.

Helen
(Enters with a glass of sherry and a bowl of pecans.) What beast?

Irene
Doris’ husband.

Marsha
Old age.

Irene
That’s already snuck up.

Doris
Speak for yourself.

Helen
Come now, there’s no need to be gruesome.

Marsha
Not gruesome. Realistic.

Doris
We were just discussing acting one’s age, Helen. I was saying that I’d rather not.

Helen
I’ll agree with you there, Doris. Here have some pecans.

Doris
Oh. I love pecans. (She eats a few.)

Helen
I had some extra from Marsha’s pie.

Irene
Marsha, you made a pecan pie?

Marsha
A special recipe I found. I guarantee it’ll raise a stir.

Helen
I can’t wait.

Doris
Does anyone have the time?

Irene
It’s twelve fifty-nine.

Doris
When is he supposed to be here?

Helen
One o’clock.

Doris
If he doesn’t hurry he’ll be late.

Marsha
It’s a Sunday. Who’s in a rush? Could you please pass me a pecan?

[Helen walks the bowl of pecans over to Marsha.]

Marsha
Thanks.

Doris
What’s his name?

Irene
Whose?

Doris
Our visitor’s. I don’t remember what Helen said his name was.

Helen
Our esteemed guest today is Nathaniel Cummings. The novelist. Do you remember now?

Marsha
The library? Yesterday? You remember...

Doris
Was he the gentleman who made those wonderful watercolors?

Irene
No. Nathaniel Cummings is the one who gave that speech for censorship.

Helen
That would be against censorship, dear. Mr. Cummings is currently on a book signing tour for his latest novel. I happen to know his editor, Jake Franklin, very well. He owed me a favor, so I had our town put on his itinerary.

Doris
Oh. I see now. So we’re throwing him a thank you party.

Helen
Actually, it may be more of a going away party. Rumor has it that if this new novel of his doesn’t sell well, Mr. Cummings’ contract may not be renewed.

Irene
Where did you hear that?

Helen
Jake, of course. I never give any weight to rumors unless they’re from the horse’s mouth.

Doris
Well, Mr. Cummings speaks eloquently. If he writes half as good, he’s bound to have good sales. Could you please pass the pecans back?

[Marsha grabs a handful of pecans from the bowl and places them in her lap. She then hands the bowl back.]

Helen
Actually, Doris, we invited him for a different reason.

Irene
We didn’t like what he had to say yesterday at the library.

Doris
Oh, yes. He just doesn’t understand that this town has standards. (She receives the empty bowl.) There aren’t any left.

Irene
Well, I’d like to think there are still a few.

Doris
Nuts. There aren’t any nuts left.

Marsha
Take a look around. This town has plenty.

Helen
I think I have a few more in the kitchen.

Doris
No, that’s alright. I don’t want to spoil my appetite for Marsha’s pie. (She sets the bowl aside.)

Irene
Oh. Do you know what I read in the newspaper today?

Marsha
No… (Mutters.) …but I’m sure you’ll tell us.

Irene
Well, guess what our wonderful President is raising taxes on.

Helen
Social Security.

Irene
Yes. How did you know?

Helen
I lent you my paper.

Irene
Oh. Well, it’s just typical of a Democrat to go raising taxes.

Helen
The President is a Republican.

Irene
Well, it’s just typical of a politician to go raising taxes.

Marsha
He wouldn’t have raised them if he wasn’t a young conservative.

Irene
It reminds me of something Mark Twain once said. “Never trust a young conservative or an old liberal. A young conservative’s got no heart, and an old liberal’s got no mind.”

Helen
Are you sure it was Mark Twain that said that? I thought it was Winston Churchill.

Irene
It might have been. I don’t remember. They were both in the same crossword puzzle. I’m just glad I didn’t vote for him.

Doris
Winston Churchill, or Mark Twain?

Irene
The President.

Doris
Yes you did. I went with you to the poles and you said that you voted for him.

Irene
I changed my mind at the last minute. Not that it made much of a difference.

Helen
Well, here’s to the President of the United States of America. May he never grow old enough to collect. (She toasts and swallows some sherry.)

Marsha
What are you drinking?

Helen
Sherry.

Marsha
I could do with one of those.

Doris
Ditto.

Helen
(Going toward liquor cart.) I’ll pour us all one.

Irene
Do you think that’s such a good idea, Helen? Our guest of honor is a reformed alcoholic.

Marsha
So what?

Irene
Well, don’t you think it would be just a little… gauche to drink in front of an alcoholic?

Marsha
Irene, I’m an alcoholic. And Daddy used to drink in front of me all the time. No. I don’t think it’s in the least bit gauche. To Daddy. (She takes a drink.) I’m sure that if Mister Cummings is truly reformed, the sight of alcohol won’t even faze him. After all, he’s an author. He’s been to cocktail luncheons with publishers, and everyone knows they’re about as sober as Truman Capote.

Helen
Actually, I don’t think that was Capote’s problem.

Doris
Still, do we really want to risk offending him? He might decide to leave before we’ve gotten started.

[Pause.]

Helen
Good point. Alright then, girls. We’ll forego the drinks until later.

Doris
How long will that be?

Helen
Maybe an hour, an hour and a half tops. He shouldn’t be that difficult.

Marsha
An hour and a half! I don’t think I can wait that long.

Irene
I would say a little longer. He is a writer.

Helen
Then perhaps you could sneak off to the kitchen for a quick one before he gets here.

Doris
(Looking off stage right.) Too late. (Turns.) He’s here!

[Doris runs over to the nearest chair and picks up a magazine from the table between herself and Irene and quickly flips it open. This causes the others to stare at her momentarily. Irene finds this funny and giggles a bit. Marsha starts a new color in the "scarf" she is knitting. This time it is blue.]

Helen
(Goes to garden entrance.) Yes. There he is. Yoo-hoo! Mister Cummings! Over here!

Nathan
(From offstage.) Hello Mrs. Bryce!

Doris
What time is it?

Irene
It’s four past one.

Doris
Oh. He’s four minutes late.

Helen
He’s fashionably late, Doris. Stop your fretting.

Irene
Marsha, are you ready for our guest?

Marsha
(She holds up her knitting.) Yes. All set.

Doris
What color are you using this time?

Marsha
Blue. Baby blue. For creativity.

[Nathan enters Stage Right.]

Nathan
I wasn’t sure how to get into your garden. I was about to go around the block when I saw you.

Helen
Well, you found us. Come in. Ladies, may I present Mister Nathaniel Cummings.

Marsha
Good afternoon.

Doris
I’m charmed to meet you.

Irene
Mister Cummings.

Nathan
Please. You can just call me Nathan.

Helen
Very well, Nathan. You may call me Helen. And these are my sisters, Mrs. Irene Bailey. This is Ms. Marsha Flint. And finally, your biggest admirer, Ms. Doris Adams…

Doris
Miss, dear.

Marsha
Not for a long time.

Irene
(To Marsha.) Hush.

Helen
Sorry. Miss Doris Adams.

Nathan
I’m pleased to meet you all.

[They mill about and smile at each other for a moment.]

Helen
Come and sit. I’ll make you a nice cup of tea. What kind do you prefer?

Nathan
Lipton will be fine.

Helen
(Taken aback.) I’m afraid we don’t have any Lipton tea. We have Earl Grey and Darjeeling.

Nathan
Earl Grey.

Helen
Irene?

Irene
Need you ask?

Helen
Darjeeling. Marsha?

Marsha
Earl Grey. Never drink anything you can’t pronounce.

Helen
Doris?

Doris
I’ll have the same as Mister Cummings.

Marsha
(Under her breath.) I’m sure you will.

[Irene glares at Marsha. Doris and Nathan have obviously not heard this.]

Helen
His name is Nathan, dear. (Hands Nathan his tea.)

Nathan
Thank you. And I must thank you again, Helen. It was very kind of you to arrange the signing and speech at the library, yesterday.

Helen
Think nothing of it, Nathan. It was quite an event, a day to remember for all of us.

Irene
Nathan, You look so familiar to me. I believe I’ve seen you somewhere before. Besides at the library, that is.

Nathan
Perhaps you saw me on television.

Doris
You were on television? Oh, that’s marvelous.

Helen
Doris doesn’t watch television. None of us do.

Doris
But I do.

Helen
You don’t watch it that often.

Doris
No. I don’t.

Irene
No. I haven’t seen you on the television, Nathan. I believe I probably bumped into you at some gathering somewhere.

Nathan
I don’t believe so. The only thing I’ve done recently was speak at the library.

Irene
Yes. Your speech about the minister in North Carolina who burned that bible.

Nathan
Actually the speech was about censorship in general.

Helen
Yes. Don’t you remember, Irene? We arranged it because George Thompson ordered all the copies of that book removed from the shelves.

Nathan
George Thompson?

Irene
He’s the city Treasurer. I never liked him. There’s something crooked about any politician who wants to be Treasurer.

Helen
I don’t like the man either, but I wouldn’t say he’s exactly crooked. Perhaps a little bent.

Marsha
I would say twisted. Anyone who wants to ban an important book like that should have his head checked.

Irene
What book is it that we are we referring to?

Helen
It was something about killing. I don’t remember the title right off hand.

Nathan
It was Slaughterhouse-Five.

Doris
(To Marsha.) Didn’t you tell George about that book?

Marsha
We… ah… discussed it. (She stares harshly at Doris, who shrinks from her.)

Irene
(Covering.) Oh. That book. Well, who would want to read a book about the beef industry anyway? No right-minded vegetarian, I can tell you that.

Marsha
It was about World War II, dear, not the beef industry.

Irene
I must have been thinking of another book I read. Now that you mention it, I do remember that book. Frankly, I agree with George Thompson. (To Nathan.) How about you?

Helen
He feels that the book shouldn’t be banned. Isn’t that right, Nathan.

Nathan
Actually, yes.

Irene
Really? And why is that?

Nathan
Because no piece of important literature should be banned.

Helen
Yes, but how important that particular piece of work is can be considered an opinion. And as far as it being literature, that can be argued as well.

Nathan
Well, that’s the whole point of not banning books…

Helen
Excuse me a moment.

Nathan
…It allows for open debate.

[Helen exits into the house. There is an uneasy pause.]

Irene
I understand that you are an author, Nathan.

Nathan
Yes. I am.

Doris
How wonderful!

Irene
What do you write?

Nathan
Science fiction and horror mostly, although I have written some straight fiction.

Doris
That’s delightful, don’t you think?

Irene
How interesting. I don’t believe I’ve ever read any of your books. What have you written?

Nathan
Seven novels, one of them horror, and over a hundred short stories.

Doris
A hundred!

Nathan
My most popular work is To Prideon and Back. It was on the New York Times best-seller list for four months.

Irene
Was that the horror novel?

Nathan
No. That one was science fiction.

Irene
Science fiction. I’ve heard of it, but I’m not exactly sure what it is. So I’ve never read any.

Nathan
That can’t be true.

Irene
I assure you, I haven’t.

Nathan
Everyone has in some form or another. Maybe you just don’t recognize it as science fiction.

Marsha
What about Nineteen-Eighty-Four? You’ve read that.

Irene
Well, yes. But that’s just political fiction.

Nathan
A good deal of science fiction is political fiction.

Doris
I liked that book. I think it was very imaginative.

Irene
Well then, perhaps I have read some.

[Helen enters carrying a tray.]

Helen
Cucumber sandwiches anyone?

Irene
What a splendid idea. I’ll have one.

Marsha
I’ll pass. (She displays her knitting to Helen.)

Doris
(To Nathan.) Oh! You must have one. Helen makes the most delicious cucumber sandwiches.

Nathan
I think I will.

Doris
In fact, Helen used to be a gourmet cook in the Appalachians.

Helen
That would be the Catskills, dear. (To Nathan.) I was the head restauranteur of the most chic little café at North Carambegas Resort.

Doris
Yes. That’s what it was. She’s a fabulous cook.

[They take their sandwiches. Helen puts the tray down and goes over to Marsha.]

Helen
What did I miss while I was getting the sandwiches? (She examines the knitting carefully.)

Doris
We were just discussing Nathan’s wonderful novels.

Helen
Oh. You must be talking about To Pretty One and Back.

Nathan
That’s Prideon.

Helen
Oh? (She stares at the knitting. To Marsha.) You’ve mis-stitched dear.

Marsha
No I haven’t. It’s right there.

Helen
Nathan, how do you spell “Prideon”

Nathan
(Helen counts stitches as he spells.) P-R-I-D-E-O-N.

Helen
You’ve mis-stitched.

Marsha
Well, no one’s perfect. (She pulls out a few stitches and continues knitting.)

Nathan
Might I ask what it is you’re knitting?
(Silence. They all look to Helen.)

Helen
Yes, Marsha. Do tell us.

Marsha
It’s really nothing.

Nathan
It’s a strange piece of nothing.

Helen
Trust me. When Marsha says it’s nothing, it’s nothing. What were we just talking about?

Doris
Science fiction?

Helen
Ah, yes.

Irene
To continue our discussion, what exactly is science fiction?

Nathan
Well, in science fiction the writer creates an alternate reality, a world which would normally never exist. The story has to be based on something that has changed because of science. It can be anything from cellular mutation to an alien war that brings a cataclysmic end to the universe.

Doris
That sounds very dramatic.

Nathan
It can be.

Helen
It sounds rather dry to me. No human drama, very mechanical.

Nathan
Human drama is an inseparable part of the story. You can’t have good science fiction without human drama.

Helen
I still don’t find it very appealing.

Nathan
A lot of people don’t.

Irene
Then why write something that interests a small fraction of readers?

Nathan
Because people who read science fiction are people who think for themselves.

Irene
And does that appeal to you, that your readers are an intelligent lot?

Nathan
Well, I consider it a bonus.

Irene
And why is that?

Nathan
Well, I write both to entertain the reader and to invoke a discussion on a topic.

Irene
Isn’t there a name for that?

Helen
Propaganda. Like Andy Warhol’s work.

Nathan
I’m hardly Andy Warhol.

Helen
Well, of course not. You’re nowhere near as anemic.

Nathan
I don’t consider my work to be propaganda. I try to present both sides of an issue and allow my readers to ponder it for themselves. I write mainly to entertain, not to run for office.

Doris
Have you ever run for office?

Helen
Doris, please. So you like to write science fiction because you feel your audience is intelligent, because they are free thinkers. You believe they are the select few who can think for themselves.

Nathan
Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, but my readers are usually more rational than other readers.

Irene
Other readers of what?

Nathan
Other types of fiction. Romance fiction for instance.

Doris
I read romance novels. I just finished one about a woman from Barbados who falls in love with a married American entrepreneur…

Irene
Doris, please. (Pause.) What’s wrong with romance fiction?

Nathan
There’s nothing wrong with it. But there’s nothing especially extraordinary about it either. There’s nothing of deep societal importance there.

Helen
I’m interested, Nathan, in why you feel this urge to write about topics of societal importance.

Nathan
Well, it’s an urge. I really don’t have any control over it. Sometimes an idea just haunts me until I can get it out of my head. I do that by putting it onto paper.

Helen
You’re evading my question, dear.

Doris
I thought that was pretty straight forward.

Helen
No, it wasn’t. What is it that you expect to achieve?

Nathan
What does anyone expect to achieve from doing anything? Everyone wants to leave some sort of mark on the world, to achieve immortality in one form or another. Some people try to achieve that immortality through their children. Others, through handcrafts that are passed down through their family. I do it through fiction.

Helen
Ah! There we are. That’s the reason I was looking for. You are just as human as everyone else on Earth.

Nathan
What is that supposed to mean? I never said I wasn’t.

Marsha
Don’t get offended, dear. Helen was just trying to see where you stood as far as your writing goes. You see, we had another author over for tea in the past, and she seemed to feel that she was above everyone else.

Doris
I told you I didn’t like her.

Marsha
You didn’t like her because she wore the same ear rings as you did.

Doris
That’s not true. That was her one redeeming quality. Good fashion sense. I didn’t like her because she was so aloof.

Irene
She was a published author. She acted aloof because she thought authors had to be that way. She felt that she was an observer of life, and not a partaker.

Doris
I don’t see how anyone can profess to write about life, or anything else for that matter, without experiencing it. Even with the right ear rings.

Irene
Nathan, are you an observer or a partaker?

Nathan
I’d say I’m a partaker.

Helen
Well, I wouldn’t think it’s possible to partake of what you write about. I’m sure some of it could happen, but with science fiction and horror? What kind of firsthand experience could you possibly draw upon, especially when you write about deaths and disfigurement? I certainly hope you’re not going around torturing people just to write a story.

Nathan
No, of course not. I draw from my nightmares, from my childhood and adult fears, and face them head on. I read newspapers. There’s enough horror going on in the real world to fuel countless stories. Sometimes I have a hard time sleeping.

Doris
Don’t we all. What artists don’t suffer for their art.

Helen
What about your science fiction? I’m fairly certain that you’ve never been to the moon, let alone other universes.

Nathan
Obviously, it’s impossible for anyone to experience some of the things I write about. They just don’t happen. You need to draw on your own life experiences and give those to your characters. You need a fertile imagination.

Helen
And you have just such a fertile imagination.

Nathan
I think so.

Doris
How nice.

Helen
Well, that’s hard for me to really judge, considering that I haven’t actually read any of your works. How imaginative would you consider yourself to be as compared to, say, Lewis Carroll?

Nathan
Lewis Carroll? I’m not really sure my works can be compared to his. They’re very different beasts.

Doris
Yes, like apples and oranges.

Helen
But apples and oranges are both still fruits. They still have seeds and skin and stem. Just as both Lewis Carroll’s works and Nathan’s are flights of fancy, extrapolations on uncommon events. Would you say he was more imaginative than you are, or vice versa?

Nathan
Well, I’d have to say that Carroll was, but only because he had a more limited world to work with.

Helen
So you feel that Lewis Carroll was more imaginative than you are. You must have very little faith in your own work.

Nathan
No, I never said that.

Marsha
I’m afraid you did. Or at least you implied it through your admission that Lewis CarolCarroll is more imaginative than you.

Nathan
No, I said that it’s difficult to compare my works against his. We came from two very different backgrounds. It’s like comparing… the Eiffel Tower to the Statue of Liberty.

Marsha
One is French and the other American.

Irene
They’re both French.

Nathan
One is larger and the other is more awe-inspiring.

Helen
Once again, that is a matter of opinion. Some people find the Eiffel Tower more awe-inspiring, others the Statue of Liberty.

Irene
So, Nathan, which is more awe-inspiring, your Eiffel Tower, or Carroll’s Statue of Liberty?

Doris
I like the Eiffel Tower better myself.

Marsha
They were asking Nathan for his opinion, Doris.

Nathan
I’d have to say Carroll.

Helen
You see, you rank Carroll’s works above your own. You have no confidence in your own work.

Nathan
That’s not true!

Irene
Then why do you place Lewis Carroll above yourself?

Nathan
I know when an author deserves respect for his work, especially when he’s pioneered a field. And I respect Carroll’s work. It has nothing to do with low self esteem.

Helen
But the question was not whether he pioneered the field or how much you respect his work. I want to know who is more imaginative.

Nathan
It takes a lot of imagination to pioneer a field.

Helen
Oh, come now. There’s no need to practice humility here. You’re among friends. Don’t you think you even compare to Carroll? Surely your work has more polish, fuller characters...

Nathan
Well, yes. And my work certainly has more emotional entanglement, and plot, but Carroll never really focused on any of that.

Helen
So, on those grounds, would you consider Carroll more imaginative than yourself?

Nathan
Carroll was a matehmatician. On those grounds… no.

Irene
So, you admit you feel you are more imaginative than Lewis.Carroll.

Doris
How wonderful! I told you he would make a wonderful guest.

Irene
That’s a very strong statement, Nathan. Are you willing to prove it?

Nathan
Prove it? Prove what?

Helen
Prove what a magnificent imagination you have. You obviously seem to think that you are better than Lewis Carroll.

Nathan
I didn’t say that. You’re twisting my words.

Helen
You said that you were more imaginative than Lewis Carroll, and a statement like that cannot go unchecked. I believe that you should prove your superior cleverness and imagination.

Nathan
This is ridiculous.

Marsha
It sounds like an excellent idea to me.

Irene
And to me too. Otherwise it seems as though you are just boasting.

Helen
What should we then think about your reputation?

Nathan
I see. (He gets up and is ready to leave.)

Doris
Are you leaving us already, Mister Cummings?

Nathan
Yes. I am. I’m not accustomed to having my words twisted, to being coerced into fantastical arguments, to being cornered into defending positions I have not taken...

Doris
Oh, no, you mustn’t leave. That’s not what we meant at all. Tell him, Helen.

Helen
I must apologize to you Mister Cummings. We have you at a tremendous disadvantage. I must have forgotten to instruct you on our quirky little traditions. We don’t invite many people for lunch to begin with, and Sunday lunch is a special occasion. Of course, we expect our guests to join us in some of our debates, games, challenges if you will. And you being a celebrated author, I thought you would enjoy a challenge. Apparently I was mistaken.

Nathan
A challenge?

Helen
It has been my experience that literary people usually enjoy challenges.

Marsha
We had the former editor of the town paper over once. That was while he was still editor, and he was very engaging. We had challenged him about a law that was passed.

Irene
Something about increasing the water bill.

Marsha
Yes. We challenged him to prove the increase was necessary. We discussed it for well over four hours before he finally had to leave.

Helen
I hope you decide to stay and take us up on the challenge.

Irene
Please do.

Doris
It would be so much fun.

[A pause here while Nathan considers.]

Nathan
Well, that depends on what the challenge is.

Helen
We have so many of them, but most are so…pedestrian. Perhaps we could come up with something out of the ordinary, for our celebrated guest. What do you think Irene?

Irene
Well, I’m rather partial to Speeches myself.

Nathan
Speeches?

Irene
Each of us chooses an issue and you have to make a short speech about it. Then you do the same to us.

Helen
How about you, Marsha?

Marsha
I think we should play Topics, myself.

Doris
Oh! Topics! Yes, that’s a great idea. We haven’t played Topics in ages!

Helen
I think that’s a very good idea. What do you say to that, Irene.

Irene
That’s fine.

Helen
Alright, Nathan. We are going to play a game. The name of the game is Topics. In it, we four have to provide you with four completely unrelated topics, and you have to come up with an imaginative plot that combines them all.

Nathan
That sounds like an interesting game. But I think it needs to be more challenging. I think we should each have something at stake.

Marsha
Mister Cummings, that’s an intriguing idea. What do you say, Helen?

Helen
I like that very much. That will make the game much more interesting. Alright, Mister Cummings, since you suggested the bet, why don’t you pick a stake for us.

Nathan
Alright. That’s fine with me. If I win, the four of you can’t read any romances for a year.

Doris
A year!

Nathan
Alright, a month. And you must each read a science fiction novel.

Doris
But what would I do if I couldn’t read my stories for a month?

Marsha
You could take up knitting again.

Helen
Alright. And if we win, you must present us with your newest manuscript for our perusal.

Nathan
I don’t know.

Doris
Why not?

Nathan
I only have one copy of it.

Helen
Really… Come now, Nathan. Live a little on the edge.

Nathan
I really can’t. My contract has a nondisclosure clause…

Helen
I’m sure Jake won’t mind. He owes me one.

Nathan
You know my publisher?

Helen
He’s an old friend. Don’t you worry about it.

Nathan
(Hesitantly.) Alright. You’ve got a bet.

Helen
Good. Let’s begin. The game is Topics. And the topics are… We’ll start with you, Doris.

Doris
Can you come back to me? I can’t think of anything right off.

Helen
Alright. Irene.

Irene
The President of the United States.

Helen
Oh, that’s a good one. Marsha?

Marsha
Air Force One.

Helen
(Mocking friendly competitiveness.) Come now, Marsha. You must be more imaginative than that, or Nathan might win the game.

Marsha
Alright. A yellow cockatiel.

Helen
Much better. Doris?

Doris
Alright. Pecans.

Marsha
I always knew you were a little nuts.

Doris
Shh.

Helen
Pecans. Alright, now I’ll put in my topic. (Pause. She smiles.) Censorship.

Doris
That’s a difficult one, Helen.

Marsha
Yes. You should at least give him a fighting chance.

Helen
Come now, ladies. I’m sure Nathan knows more about censorship than any of the rest of us.

Nathan
Well, I haven’t had any personal experience with it.

Helen
Well, if you don’t like that topic, Nathan, I can always chose another.

Nathan
No. Censorship is fine. It’s a good challenge. So, we’ve got censorship, the President of the United States, a yellow cockatiel, and…

Helen
And pecans.

Nathan
Pecans. Yes. (Pause.)

Helen
Let’s give Nathan a few moments to think of something clever. Would anyone like some more tea?

Doris
Oh, yes. I’ll have some. Darjeeling this time. I didn’t like the Earl Grey very much. Too fruity.

Helen
Well, there’s fruit in it.

Doris
There is? I forgot.

Marsha
You say that every time we have tea.

Doris
I forget I don’t like it.

Helen
Irene?

Irene
Yes, please.

Helen
Marsha?

Marsha
None for me. But I would love something cold. Do you have anything cold, Helen?

Helen
In the kitchen. I’ll get it for you.

Marsha
No. Don’t bother dear. I’ll get it myself.

Irene
What?

Marsha
I’ll get it. Could someone take over my knitting for a moment?

Doris
I would be happy to.

Helen
That’s alright, Doris. I think Irene had better. She’s a much quicker knitter than you.

Irene
I haven’t knitted in ages.

Nathan
What is it that you ladies are knitting?

Helen
(She hesitates.) Well, ah, it’s a scarf. (Pause.) An afghan.

Marsha
(Simultaneously.) An afghan. (Pause.) A scarf.

[There is an uneasy pause. They look at each other. Nathan appears to be amused by this.]

Helen
Actually, it’s a knitted sculpture that we’re putting together for display in the library. It’s to be a study in various knitting techniques.

Nathan
That’s interesting. (He approaches Marsha to examine her knitting.) I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it before. It doesn’t seem to have any pattern to it.

Marsha
Well, it’s a study in chaos. So, would someone like to take over my knitting for me?

Irene
I suppose I will. (She crosses to Marsha.)

Marsha
Thank you, Irene. (She gets up. The knitting is smoothly switched to Irene.) I’ll be back in a flash. (She exits into the house.)

[There is a pause.]

Irene
Have you though of anything yet, Nathan?

Doris
Give the man a chance, for heaven’s sake. He’s only just started thinking about it.

Nathan
I’m not quite ready yet.

Helen
Take your time. One can’t rush creativity.

Doris
That’s very true, you know. I was just reading an article about that the other day. Did you know that it took Leo Tolstoy over twenty years to write War and Peace from his first notes on the idea up until his final rewrite?

Irene
Really?

Helen
Have you ever read it?’

Doris
No. I’ve tried twice, but it puts me to sleep. It’s very dry. Marsha would probably like it.

[Marsha re-enters with her pie and a glass of wine for herself.]

Marsha
What would I probably like?

Irene
War and Peace.

Marsha
Oh, that. It was alright. Would anyone like a piece of pie?

Doris
Oh, I would love a piece. I’m just in a pecanny mood.

Helen
Allow me to do the honors, Marsha. Irene?

Irene
A small one, thanks.

Marsha
Only a small one? This is a special pie. It’s one of Helen’s recipe’s that I’ve modified slightly.

Irene
Oh, alright, then. I’ll have a medium size piece.

Marsha
Would you cut a piece for me, Helen?

Helen
Of course. How large.

Marsha
A sliver.

Helen
How about you, Nathan?

Nathan
Hmm? Yes. Thank you.

Irene
Have you thought of anything yet?

Nathan
I think I’ve got something.

Helen
Alright. Let’s hear your first try.

Nathan
Okay. The President of the United States is holding a top secret meeting in the oval office with a special agent from the CIA. Now, this agent is so special, that even the agent’s existence is kept under wraps. Everything the agent says is censored by the President before it ever gets out of the oval office. This agent is being paid by the President in pecans, because it refuses to take currency. In addition, the President intends to present this agent as a gift to the leader of the country he wishes to spy on. And what’s more, this foreign leader will accept the agent as a gift, firstly because he has a fondness for gifts, secondly because it would be a major political faux pas to refuse the gift, and thirdly because he loves birds, and the agent is a talking yellow cockatiel.

[Pause.]

Doris
Why, that’s splendid! What a marvelous plot!

Marsha
Very good. What do you think, Irene?

Irene
It’s alright.

Helen
Yes, it is good. But I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that, Nathan.

Nathan
What’s wrong with it?

Helen
It’s too… ordinary.

Nathan
Ordinary?

Helen
Clichéd perhaps. It’s very Clancey, or Flemming.

Nathan
Well, it’s pretty out of the ordinary for me. My usual fare is more fantastic.

Helen
Well then, let’s hear one of your more fantastic tales. Do you need a little more time?

Nathan
Maybe a minute or so.

Helen
Alright. You’ve got your minute or so.

Marsha
Could I get another thin slice of pie, Helen? It came out well.

Helen
Of course you can. Anyone else?

Doris
I’ll have another. This is wonderful. What do you think, Nathan? Isn’t the pie wonderful?

Nathan
It is very good.

Doris
I love pecans.

Helen
How did you modify my recipe, Marsha?

Marsha
Well, I added a secret ingredient after it cooled.

Irene
Now what would that ingredient be? Ginger?

Marsha
No.

Doris
I know! It must be molasses. It’s a pecan molasses pie, isn’t it?

Marsha
No it isn’t.

Helen
I know what you did. You used dark brown sugar.

Marsha
No. If you must know, I added some Grand Marnier liqueur.

[Nathan abruptly stops eating the pie and places his plate on the table. He then folds the remainder of his chewed pie into his napkin. Helen notices this during the following.]

Irene
What is it called?

Marsha
Grand Marnier Pecan Pie.

Doris
Grand Marnier? What kind of liquor is that?

Marsha
It’s orange, dear.

Irene
It’s like curaçao, but not as dry.

Doris
I’ve never had that either.

Irene
Perhaps we could have a small sip as an apéritif this evening. What do you think, Helen?

[Helen waves Irene off as she starts towards Nathan, who seems preoccupied and is staring off into space.]

Helen
Is there something wrong, Nathan? You’re not eating your pie.

Nathan
No. I’m fine. I’m just not as hungry as I thought I was.

Helen
But you said that you liked the pie. Something must be wrong.

Nathan
No. I… I’ve got a bit of a stomach ache. That’s all. Nothing major.

Helen
Would you like a cold drink to wash it down?

Nathan
Yes. That would be nice.

Marsha
I know. Something that will settle your stomach. I’ve just the thing.

[Marsha goes to the bar to pour him a drink. He doesn’t notice what she is up to.]

Doris
Perhaps we’ve been out in the sun too long.

Helen
Yes. That’s probably it. It is warm today.

Irene
Would you feel better if you had a quick lie down on the couch, Nathan?

Nathan
No. I’m just a little queasy. That’s all. I’ll be fine.

Marsha
Here you are. A nice gin and tonic.

Nathan
No! I mean… I’m sorry I should have told you. I don’t like gin.

Marsha
That’s alright. I should have asked you first. I know. My husband always used to drink some peach brandy. How about a nice peach brandy?

Nathan
No!

Doris
Are you alright, Nathan? You’re acting very strangely all of a sudden.

Nathan
No! I mean yes! I’m alright. (Pause.) I just don’t drink alcohol. (Muttered.) Not anymore. Could I just get a glass of soda water?

[A pause while Marsha considers how to use this to her advantage and pick up the pieces. She places the gin and tonic on the table within Nathan’s reach, but not obviously, for he is not looking. She turns back to the liquor cart and fixes him a club soda.]

Marsha
I’m sorry, Nathan. I had no idea you were an alcoholic.

Nathan
Are… am. I still am.

Marsha
Well, we’ll be very careful from now on.

Nathan
Don’t go to any trouble on my account. If you want to drink, don’t let me stop you.

Irene
I just thought…

Nathan
That I couldn’t look at it. I know. No. I can look at alcohol. I just can’t drink it.

Helen
Or eat it.

Nathan
Yes. I shouldn’t have taken a piece of pie.

Doris
It’s not your fault. You had no idea…

Nathan
I know. But I thought it tasted familiar. I should have stopped myself sooner.

Helen
Well, there’s no sense in fretting over it now. What’s done is done.

Marsha
Here’s your soda.

Nathan
Thank you. (He sips.) Listen, I’m really sorry for that outburst. Perhaps I should be going…

Doris
We won’t hear of it. Tell him, Helen.

Marsha
Your apology is accepted, if you accept mine. It was my fault. I should have thought to ask.

Helen
It was just a minor misunderstanding. (The ladies silently agree.) And besides, we have a bet going.

Marsha
That’s right. You have to tell us your second story.

Doris
Oh, yes!

Nathan
Alright. I think I’ve got it.

Helen
Alright ladies. Let’s listen to Nathan. Go ahead.

Nathan
(Pause.) Alright. Agnes Green, the First Lady through an unhappy marriage, happened upon some censored information about a transformation drug that the Pentagon had developed. One evening, she applied a few drops of it to President Green’s favorite food, pecans, and served them to him. At first, she thought the drug wasn’t working, so she added a few more drops of the drug.
This continued for a few weeks, but still nothing was happening. She decided the entire thing was a failure until one evening at dinner she felt a tingling at the back of her throat. The tingling turned into a terrible itching. Her throat began constricting and her breathing was labored. Her face started turning red, and her eyes were bulging from their sockets. She began to cough wildly as she clutched at her throat. She suddenly coughed up a single yellow feather. It floated down and landed on her plate.
Then came a coughing spasm. Before she could stop herself, the first feather was followed by a second, then a third. More feathers spouted from her mouth. Before anyone could do anything about her coughing fit, she had disappeared in an explosion of yellow feathers. The feathers finally settled, revealing a yellow cockatiel sitting where the first lady had once been.
Unfortunately, Agnes was not privy to another little piece of confidential information regarding the drug. Prolonged exposure to the drug apparently had the same effect as ingestion of it. Additionally, it only worked on humans, and the President, being a politician, and a Democrat, was already an ass.

Doris
Oh, that’s very clever! I like that ending.

Marsha
It’s certainly better than the previous one.

Irene
I don’t know, actually. I’m sort of undecided on it. What about you, Helen?

Helen
I don’t like it.

Marsha
It’s a little graphic for my taste.

Nathan
Well, of course it’s graphic. That’s the type of writer I am. I work in strong imagery.

Marsha
I found it upsetting. The imagery was too strong.

Nathan
It was only words. Most of the imagery that you found upsetting was filled in by your mind. The real horror was created by your subconscious filling in the holes.

Marsha
Well, I thought it was too much.

Helen
Yes. And the ending isn’t uplifting.

Nathan
Now hold on. Subtle imagery has never been a criteria for judging originality. And you never said it had to have a happy ending. The only factor you should be judging is imaginativeness.

Helen
Yes, but that includes the ending. There’s nothing original about calling a Democrat an ass.

Nathan
Well, that was just an ending I tacked on as an afterthought. The actual story has never been written before. There is a certain amount of creativity there.

Helen
Well, that may be true, but who would be interested in a story about the first lady turning into a cockatiel?

Nathan
Well, I didn’t exactly have a say in the basic elements topics of the story.

Helen
Exactly. And you weren’t supposed to.

Nathan
Obviously. How exactly were you judging the stories?

Helen
Well, I think that’s obvious, Nathan.

Nathan
If it were, I wouldn’t be asking.

Helen
I was comparing them to Lewis Carroll’s works. Specifically, The Jabberwocky. I don’t feel that any of your three tales were up to the quality of that one poem.

Nathan
Perhaps because they weren’t completed tales? I was only asked to create a plot from the four topics, not to write a complete novel. And I don’t see how you can compare them with The Jabberwocky. I wasn’t asked to write a poem. I’m not a poet.

Helen
That’s to your disadvantage then.

Nathan
Because I don’t write poetry doesn’t make me any less of a writer. What was it that you actually didn’t like about my plots?

Helen
They were all too unlikely.

Nathan
That wasn’t part of the challenge. You didn’t say that the plots had to be realistic. Carroll’s certainly aren’t.

Helen
Well, I had preferred that they were. It’s hard to judge originality. If you had written normal fiction, perhaps I could say for sure.

Nathan
I don’t write normal fiction. Science Fiction, and Horror are what I write.

Doris
To be honest, Nathan, we don’t read science fiction.

Helen
That’s not completely true. I have read some science fiction on occasion.

Nathan
You have? What have you read?

Helen
That’s not important.

Nathan
Perhaps not. I’m just interested.

Helen
I’ve read 1984, and Brave New World, just to name two.

Nathan
And what did you think of them?

Helen
What does that have to do with the game?

Nathan
I’m just trying to find out if your reaction to my plots may have been flavored by what you’ve already read. Apparently they have.

Irene
How can you say that?

Nathan
Well, then, Helen, why don’t you tell me what you thought of them?

Helen
Oh, it’s all just absurdist escapism.

Marsha
I don’t know if you can really say that about 1984. It has a pretty depressing outlook on the future.

Helen
Well, everything that Orwell wrote was depressing anyway.

Nathan
So it struck you as absurd and depressing. Helen, have you ever read any science fiction that you actually enjoyed?

Helen
No. I haven’t.

Nathan
Then this entire challenge was pointless. There was never a chance of you admitting that my story was imaginative.

Helen
That doesn’t matter.

Nathan
I damn well think it matters!

Irene
Nathan, you agreed to the terms of the challenge. Please don’t tell me that you are both unimaginative and dishonest.

Nathan
I have never been accused of being dishonest. Ever.

Helen
Well, then, you won’t have any problems with meeting your end of the bargain.

Doris
Oh, yes. You have to tell us all about your newest story idea.

Nathan
I don’t feel I have to hold to my end of a one-sided bargain.

Helen
Nonsense. Of course you do. You are a famous writer, a celebrated author. You have your reputation to uphold. I’m sure you wouldn’t want it circulated that you lost a literary challenge and then walked off as a sore loser. Especially to your publisher. As a matter of fact, I’ve heard a nasty little rumor going around.

Nathan
And that would be?

Helen
Well, let’s just say I’ve heard that certain book sales are not quite up to expectations. Oh, but it can’t be true. You seem like such a successful author. But of course, if it were, negative publicity couldn’t possibly be good.

Nathan
Do you really think that my readers are going to believe an unverifiable rumor?

Helen
Nathan, I’m sure your reputation with your readers is wonderful, but Jake Franklin has no problem taking me at my word.

Nathan
Are you blackmailing me?

Helen
That’s such a harsh word. Let’s just call it a promise.

Nathan
(Pause. Nathan is perturbed.) I’ll be right back.

[Nathan exits to his car. Doris follows him to the entrance of the garden. She peers around the corner often during the following.]

Helen
(To Marsha.) That was well timed. “1984 isn’t absurdist escapism!” Whose side are you on anyway?

Marsha
Well, I’m not the one muttering censorship under every breath! What are you trying to do? Tell him why we invited him?

Doris
Well, I think he’s a very nice man.

Marsha
You think they’re all very nice men. You, with your “Miss Adams.” Hah! You haven’t been a “Miss” since you were seventeen.

Doris
I can be a Miss again if I chose.

Marsha
Adams isn’t even your maiden name. And what was that with your “Didn’t you talk to him about that book?”

Doris
Well, if you don’t trust the city treasurer, why do you always have lunch with him?

Marsha
Because he has a rather large expense account.

Helen
Oh, can it, the two of you. Now listen to me. Things are getting a little out of hand. We have to deal with Mr. Cummings. I say we get rid of him, the sooner, the better.

Irene
I agree.

Helen
Alright. Any suggestions?

Marsha
I think I know exactly how to take care of him. Mister Cummings’ goose is almost cooked. He just needs a little more lambasting.

[Marsha takes the half filled glass of soda water from the table, removes the lime from the gin and tonic, and places it exactly where the soda water was.]

Irene
Oh, you can’t do that Marsha!

Marsha
I just have.

Irene
But he’s an alcoholic! He might drink it.

Marsha
Bright girl.

Helen
Good. Never do anything half-assed.

Irene
But it’s not right.

Doris
Here he comes.

[Doris goes back to her chair. Helen goes to the bar and makes herself a mixed drink with a twist of lime. Nathan enters, carrying his manuscript.]

Nathan
I’ve got it all in here.

[He places the manuscript on the table and opens it. Nathan then removes a few pages from it.]

Helen
Well, go ahead Nathan. We’re all giddy with anticipation.

Nathan
The title of this is Homecoming. It’s a short story I’m working on.

Jessica Parks brushed her auburn hair back as she looked at her husband’s picture next to her mirror. Her heart ached with anticipation at her return to Earth. She had already decided what would happen when she deshipped at InterSat 5.

Frank would be standing at the spaceport dressed in his scarlet silk shirt, the one she with the embroidered collar she had spent three months of quiet evenings in her cabin stitching by hand. She smiled to herself, remembering the expression on his face when she gave it to him. His face lit up, his boyish charm sparkling in his eyes, his dimples deepening as he embraced his wife.

Jessica’s reverie was broken by the squealing sounds of the ship’s claxons. She slapped on her bolt-gun and slipped into the hallway.

I’ll stop here. That was just to give you a flavor of my writing style.

[Nathan reaches for his "water". He swallows a gulp and spits it back in the glass.]

Doris
I like it so far.

Nathan
Ahh! God! That’s not water!

Marsha
(Fake concern.) It isn’t? Oh, my! I must have accidentally taken it away thinking it was the gin and tonic. I’m so sorry! Here. Let me get you a fresh glass of water.

Nathan
(Suspecting.) No. Don’t bother yourself. I’ll be fine. Strange how the two got switched.

Helen
I assure you, Nathan, it was completely an accident.

Nathan
I’m sure it was.

Doris
Who is Jessica?

Helen
He was just getting to that, weren’t you Nathan?

Nathan
Yes. I was. Jessica is the captain of an interstellar explorer ship called the Hermes. The story revolves around the attempts of the crew to try to get back to Earth. They make it to just within the solar system when the ship collides with an uncharted asteroid. That’s what all the alarms are in the beginning of the story. By the time the crew contacts the Earth, they find that they are grounded on the asteroid, and heading away from earth. It becomes obvious to them that there is no hope of rescue. It becomes a survival story. In the end they make it back, but not all of them. Only three of the original eight survive.

Helen
So, it’s just as depressing as the Orwell book.

Nathan
Not really. Jessica is eventually reunited with her husband. That’s much better than what happened to Winston Smith in 1984.

Helen
(Indicating Nathan’s notes.) May I?

Nathan
Sure.

[Helen takes Nathan’s notes and begins reading through them.]

Irene
But still, five crew members die. Don’t you find that depressing?

Nathan
Actually, no. I enjoyed killing them off.

Doris
Oh, my.

Helen
How do you mean?

Nathan
Well, this is a combination of science fiction and horror. For this story I let my imagination fly. I wanted to create five completely new ways to die.

Marsha
How do they die?

Helen
Marsha, that’s morbid.

Irene
Very.

Nathan
Well, of course it’s morbid. I get paid to be morbid at times. Other times, I get paid to be romantic. It just so happens that this time the story was requested for a collection. The editor specifically asked for a horror story.

Helen
I think its absolutely revolting. I can’t believe people publish this drivel, let alone read it.

Nathan
They do. I’ve been earning my living on this drivel, as you put it.

Helen
It seems to me that the world would be much better off without it. It’s offensive. The violence alone is abhorrent. But I just glanced at your last page and found this, and I quote, "she wrapped herself around his..." well, I won’t say it. It offends my sensibilities. There’s nothing redeeming about that ending as far as I’m concerned.

Nathan
But that, as you so succinctly put it earlier, is a matter of opinion.

Helen
What is the name of this short story anthology you are submitting this to, Nathan?

Nathan
It’s called Ultimate Horror. It will be out by Christmas, so I’m told.

Helen
Did you get that, Marsha?

Marsha
Yes.

Helen
I don’t think it’s worth the paper it’s typed on. And I can’t imagine what the rest of the stories in that collection are like. I refuse to sit idly and allow this to be published.

[Helen rips up his manuscript.]

Nathan
What are you doing?!

Helen
I’m saving some people a lot of time and trouble. It’ll only be banned later anyway.

[She tosses the pile at his feet. He stands in shock.]

Nathan
I don’t believe you just did that. I don’t believe it.

Helen
I’m saving you a lot of trouble in the long run. The sooner you realize that you’re not a literary genius, the better.

Nathan
I know I’m no genius, but that’s not for you to judge. You have no business judging a book without reading it. Who the hell do you think you are?

Helen
I know who I am. Who do you think you are?

[Pause.]

Nathan
A fool. An idiot! I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner! I know your game ladies, and it’s not Topics, or whatever you call it.

Irene
What are you talking about?

Nathan
What was it I said that offended you, Helen? Was it because I opposed the censorship of Slaughterhouse-Five? Well, I hate to mention it ladies, but this is not communist Russia. Last I remember, everyone has the right to say what they want. It’s free speech, and it’s protected in the constitution.

Helen
That may be true Nathan, but pornography isn’t.

Nathan
(Holding up his torn manuscript.) This is not pornography. What you were reading was taken completely out of context. You didn’t bother reading the paragraph before that, did you? And besides which, the sexual act between husband and wife is a beautiful thing. It’s no more pornographic than the Constitution of the United States, which also promises freedom to pursue happiness.

Helen
It doesn’t guarantee the right to depict violence.

Nathan
Well, you can take that up with the Supreme Court if you want to.

Helen
I don’t have to. I’ve said my mind. Good afternoon, Mister Cummings.

[He heads for the exit with his torn manuscript. Just before he exits, he turns to face them again.]

Nathan
How many times have you four done this?

Irene
Done what?

Nathan
How many people have you invited over for tea, to roast them and rip them apart? How many victims?

Helen
We’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Good day, Mister Cummings.

Nathan
No. I’m not leaving yet.

Helen
Mister Cummings, if you care about your career, I suggest you leave right now. I won’t hesitate a moment to call Jake Franklin.

Nathan
Call him. Give him the full report. It doesn’t matter what you say to him. My career is not over. I can always find another publisher. It may be a temporary set back, but I’ve been through much worse. No, I’m talking about something bigger than my career. You four think that just because you’re the self-appointed aristocracy of this town, you can control what others think within the city borders.

[Pause, during which Nathan notices that whenever he pauses, Marsha’s knitting pauses as well.]

Nathan
It’s wrong, and just as you, Helen, refuse to sit idly, so do I. (Pause.) Tomorrow morning, I’m going down to the paper and submitting an editorial about the four of you. (Pause.) And when it gets published, the whole city will know what you’ve been up to. (Pause. To Marsha.) What are you doing?

Marsha
I don’t understand. What are you talking about?

Nathan
(He grabs the knitting out of her hands.) This.

Marsha
Mister Cummings!

Nathan
This isn’t a museum piece.

Marsha
Give me my knitting back.

Nathan
At first I really thought you were knitting a piece based on chaos. But I noticed that most of these other blankets have the same odd chaotic look to them.

Helen
Mister Cummings, I demand that you give Marsha back her knitting and leave.

Nathan
(Grabs the loose end of the knitting.) You are in no position to demand anything from me. Either you tell me what this is, or I’ll pull it apart.

Irene
It’s the transcript of our meeting!

Helen
Irene!

Irene
What do you want me to do? Let him rip it apart?

Nathan
Transcript?

Irene
Yes. It’s in coded stitch.

Nathan
Hah!

Irene
They all are.

Nathan
Very clever. I assume that all the rest of the afghans are from tea with other people.

Irene
Yes. They are.

Nathan
I see. I didn’t mind the games. They were a nice distraction. The word twisting I could have done without, but you get used to being misquoted when you’re in the public eye. Verbal attacks, especially from critics, come with the territory. But switching my drink was simply evil. I detest being played as a pawn in a game with biased rules on a shifting game board. And I will not kick back while a group of elitist snobs blackmail me into silence. You may all believe in your warped way that you won this game, but I will not let you keep the trophy.

[Nathan removes the needles and rakes the fabric apart.]

Nathan
Never insult a writer. What you say lasts an instant. What he says can last forever.

[Nathan brandishes the torn manuscript, salutes them with it, and exits.]

Helen
That was handled well.

Irene
I’m sorry. I thought he would give it back to me if I told him.

Marsha
You could have just lied.

Irene
It didn’t work the first time.

Marsha
Look at this mess. All that work gone.

Doris
I think we’ve just stirred up a hornet’s nest.

Helen
Please. He’ll go home, look at his writing and ask himself if it’s really worth it. If nothing else, we’ve certainly brought his self doubt to the surface.

Irene
He was a pompous ass anyway.

Doris
I didn’t like him the moment he set foot in here.

Marsha
You were all over him.

Doris
I was putting on airs. A lady is allowed to put on airs.

[The sound of a click emanates from a desk lamp Down right. Warm light illuminates Nathan in this area. He sits at a desk in front of a typewriter with a sheet of paper inserted. He types through the following.]

Helen
That’s true, but you were more than putting on airs.

Irene
I can’t help thinking how a writer like that can become popular. His opinion can’t be held very highly.

Doris
I think we were very lucky that he didn’t attack any of us. After all, if he writes fantasies of violence, how close is he to doing them?

Helen
Don’t worry about that. There are four of us. The other three would have been able to stop him.

Doris
What if he decides to hunt us down and kill us one by one for what happened?

Marsha
He won’t hunt us down. At least he won’t hunt you down. He probably thinks you’re in love with him.

Doris
You’re probably right. He’d probably hunt you down first.

Marsha
Thank you for your vote of confidence, Doris. In the future keep your opinions to yourself.

Helen
I wonder what he meant by that last remark.

Irene
Which one?

Helen
You know. What a writer says can last forever.

[The lights go out on the garden as Nathan pulls the last sheet from the typewriter. He looks at it and places it on top of a pile of other papers. It is the last page of a manuscript. He turns off the desk lamp and the stage goes to black.]