DAISY
Say something. If he doesn’t shut up, Mrs. Crump will be over here.
MARGARET
I know. I have to get rid of him … Go on to bed, Daisy. I can handle Paul.
DAISY
You sure?
MARGARET
I’m positive. Go.
DAISY exits … MARGARET approaches the screen door.
PAUL
(recites “Ay Waukin O”)
Simmer’s a pleasant time,
Flow’rs of ev’ry colour;
The water rins o’er the haugh,
And I long for my true lover!
(dances playfully)
Ay waukin, O
Waukin still and wary:
Sleep I can get nane,
For thinking on my dearie.
MARGARET
(through the screen door) No wonder you like Robbie Burns, Paul. He slept with half the women in Scotland.
PAUL
Lucky him.
MARGARET
How many hearts have you broken? Or have you lost count?
PAUL
You shouldn’t listen to Mrs. Crump, you know. According to her, I make Burns look like a late bloomer.
MARGARET
So?
PAUL
Dammit, Maggie, take what she says with a grain of salt. Just ’cause I dated her niece doesn’t make me the Devil, does it?
MARGARET
Did you sleep with Connie?
PAUL
I didn’t deflower her, if that’s what you mean. You like words like that, don’t you? “Deflower”?
MARGARET
(steps out on the porch) What about Brenda Fisher? Shouldn’t you be dallying with her right now? Instead of wasting your time with me?
PAUL
“Dallying”?
MARGARET
Don’t make fun of me.
PAUL
Am I wasting my time?
MARGARET
You don’t listen, do you? Anyone else would have gotten the message.
PAUL
You don’t mean that, Maggie. I knew you were glad to see me tonight. Know how I knew that?
MARGARET
How?
PAUL
The way your eyes lit up. The way you kissed me.
MARGARET
I didn’t kiss you, Paul Wyatt. You kissed me, remember?
PAUL
Let’s not split hairs.
MARGARET
It won’t happen again, either. Just in case you think otherwise.
She runs inside and snaps off the porch light.
PAUL
The summer’s still young, Maggie. Young and green like us.
MARGARET
Good night, Paul.
Inside the cottage, MARGARET stands motionless.
NARRATOR
That night, I stood in the dark, listening to my breathing. I could even hear the pounding of my heart …
PAUL
(sings “A Red, Red Rose”)
O, my luve’s like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June:
O, my luve’s like a melodie,
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I,
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
DAISY appears in the moonlight. MRS. CRUMP appears at a distance … MARGARET steps out onto the porch. She watches PAUL.
PAUL
Moonlight becomes you, Maggie Ryan. Has anyone ever told you that before?
MARGARET
No. As a matter of fact, no one ever has till now.
PAUL
(sings)
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
He turns and sings the remaining lines to the NARRATOR.
And fare thee weel, my only luve!
And fare thee weel a-while!
And I will come again, my luve,
Though it were ten thousand mile.
Blackout.
ACT TWO
Darkness.
Lights rise on the NARRATOR. She stands looking out at the lake.
NARRATOR
(to the audience) Islands are so intriguing, aren’t they? There’s one out there in the lake. On it are the ruins of a house. I was told a murder took place there many years ago. And every summer, a scarlet flower called the Maltese cross rises from the cracks in those stained and broken stones – on the exact spot the murder occurred.
Oh, I know the cynics will probably laugh. Or roll their eyes. The mystical dimension of life, they say, is for people like Mrs. Crump. Or poets.
I wonder. The dream that Paul had that summer – the dream of something impending – eventually came to pass on August second. No one’s ever explained that to me, not even in a world of quantum physics.
Just this spring, Caitlin showed me a poem by Yeats, “A Dream of Death.” The lines reminded me of that long ago summer:
(recites)
She was more beautiful than thy first love,
This lady by the trees.
Music: “Only You” by the Platters.
Lights rise on the woods … In the dappled shade, MARGARET sits on a blanket, PAUL’s head in her lap. Now and then, PAUL takes a sip of Scotch from a silver flask … Nearby is a straw picnic basket and the remains of a lunch.
MARGARET
Henry James thought “summer afternoon” were the two most beautiful words in English. What do you think the most beautiful are?
PAUL
“Brigitte Bardot.” Or is that French?
MARGARET
Be serious … You must have favourite words, don’t you? And don’t say “sex.”
PAUL
I wasn’t going to.
MARGARET
What, then?
NARRATOR
Apple.
PAUL
(thinks) “Apple.”
MARGARET
“Apple”? That’s it? Of all the words in the English language, you have to pick “apple”?
PAUL
I don’t know all the words in English, Maggie. And listen, if you don’t want to know my favourite words, don’t ask me.
He reaches up, draws MARGARET’s face down, and kisses her.
MARGARET
(breaks free) What else?
PAUL
“Awl.”
MARGARET
Spell it.
PAUL
A-W-L. It’s a tool for punching holes in wood or leather. Carpenters use it, and shoemakers. I like words like that. Words you can rap your knuckles on … (playfully) Another word I like is “syphilis.” I like the sound of it. And “gonorrhea.” That also drips.
MARGARET
I’m sorry I asked.
PAUL pulls her down on the blanket.
PAUL
(kisses her eyes) “Eyes.” (nose) “Nose.” (lips) “Lips.” (throat) “Throat.” All perfectly good words … But not as good as “belly button.”
He tries to kiss her there, but she grips his hair from the back.
Ouch!
MARGARET
(sits up) Well, behave yourself.
PAUL
Bet I know your favourite words, Maggie. Those two old spinsters who guard the Sacred Grove: “Maidenhead” and “Chastity.”
MARGARET
Well, you know I don’t like you doing that. I must’ve told you a hundred times.
PAUL
I didn’t know you were keeping count.
MARGARET
Besides, it’s not that I don’t like it, Paul, it’s just that …
PAUL
What?
MARGARET begins to clean up the picnic lunch, folding the cloth napkins and putting away the cutlery and paper plates.
MARGARET
&nb
sp; Well, if it’s too frustrating for you, maybe we oughtn’t to see each other. Maybe it’s not such a good idea.
PAUL
I can’t believe you said that.
MARGARET
I mean it.
PAUL
No, you don’t. You know damn well I don’t want to be with Brenda. That’s why I broke up with her … You don’t have to keep testing me.
MARGARET
She’s not what I expected, you know. She’s even prettier than I thought … I have a confession to make, Paul. I went to the lodge the other day. Just to see what she looked like.
PAUL
Oh?
MARGARET
You and Mr. Morris were mending the tennis net … Are you mad?
PAUL
No, I’m flattered.
MARGARET
I only just peeked in. Brenda was waiting on someone. I don’t think she saw me.
PAUL
If she had, I’d know. She’s always making snide little comments.
MARGARET
Like what?
PAUL
Oh, you know. How I’ll never see you again after Labour Day. How I’m just using you to kill time. Things like that.
MARGARET
What do you say to her?
PAUL
I tell her she’s full of it. I say I’m driving down to Vermont in the fall. How I have it all mapped out.
MARGARET
Interstate 89.
PAUL
Not far from Burlington. She doesn’t believe me. She thinks it’s just a summer romance … Is “summer romance” better than “summer afternoon”?
MARGARET
PAUL
The Snowflake King?
MARGARET
The world’s foremost authority on snowflakes. He photographed fifty-three hundred of them. The largest collection of its kind in the world.
PAUL
I’m impressed.
MARGARET
I can tell.
PAUL
No, I am. Canadians look forward to snow. It’s in our blood, like hockey.
MARGARET
You’re awful.
PAUL
Wonder why a man spends his life photographing snowflakes? Is it the elegance of the structure that appeals to him? Or its transitory nature? Or maybe old W.A. was really a poet at heart. Like Robbie Burns.
(recites “Tam O’Shanter”)
But pleasures are like poppies spread –
You seize the flow’r, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river –
A moment white – then melts for ever.
He kisses her.
MARGARET
Paul?
PAUL
What?
MARGARET
Do you love me?
PAUL
You know I do.
MARGARET
Say it. I like to hear you say it.
PAUL
I love you.
MARGARET
I love you, too … Maybe those are the three most beautiful words in any language.
NARRATOR
“I love you.”
PAUL
Maybe so.
MARGARET
I can’t believe it’s happened so fast. Sometimes I want to pinch myself. It’s like I’m dreaming … Funny how Mrs. Crump knew, isn’t it?
PAUL
Knew what?
MARGARET
She said I’d fallen for you the first day we met. I guess I didn’t want to admit it, not even to myself … She said something else, too.
PAUL
What?
NARRATOR
Summer is a time of magic.
MARGARET
She said summer was a time of magic. A time of enchantment. I suppose that’s true, isn’t it? It’s always the summers we remember in our lives … Paul?
PAUL
Mmm?
MARGARET
Would you do something for me if I asked you to? Would you, Paul? It would mean a lot to me.
PAUL
What?
MARGARET
Make up with her.
PAUL
She tried to break us up, remember?
MARGARET
I want us all to be friends, Paul. I want us to have dinner together.
PAUL
She might not feel the same. Especially after what happened last year … I didn’t tell you this, Maggie, but she walked in one day and caught Connie and me fooling around.
MARGARET
Mrs. Crump caught you and her niece?
PAUL
Stark naked.
MARGARET
Paul!
PAUL
I know.
MARGARET
What did she do?
PAUL
Took the fly swatter to us … The next day she put Connie on the bus back to the city. Wasn’t much she could do to me. My folks were in summer stock.
MARGARET
Wait a minute … Your parents are actors? Mrs. Crump didn’t tell me that.
PAUL
They’re good actors, too. For years, they pretended to be in love … My mother lives now with someone half her age, and my dad has this. (indicates the flask) He did a one-man show on Burns last winter. Took it on tour. I used to run lines with him. That’s how come I know old Robbie, in case you were wondering.
(recites “Duncan Davison”)
A man may drink and no be drunk,
A man may fight and no be slain;
NARRATOR
(recites)
A man may kiss a bonnie lass,
And aye be welcome back again.
MARGARET
Promise me you’ll come to dinner? Promise?
And with that, she runs off.
Lights fade slowly on the woods.
NARRATOR
Looking back now, I can see that I wanted something else as well: her blessing.
Meanwhile, Daisy had her own problems – problems which threatened to upset the apple cart …
Music: “Come Softly to Me” by the Fleetwoods.
Lights rise on the cottage. It is early evening … DAISY is alone onstage.
MARGARET
(off) Daisy, don’t forget to set out the candles … Daisy, did you hear what I said? …
MARGARET appears, putting on earrings.
MARGARET
Are you sure you’re okay?
DAISY
I wish you’d quit asking me that. I told you before, I’m all right. Don’t bug me.
MARGARET
Paul and Mrs. Crump will be here any minute. You want them to see you like this? … Now, whatever happened between you and Tim, I’m sure it’s not that serious. So why don’t you just call him? You know you’re going to anyway.
DAISY
How can I call him, Maggie? We don’t have a phone, remember?
MARGARET
I know that … I must be losing my mind.
DAISY
Besides, I wouldn’t call Tim Scott after last night, not if he was James Dean! I hate him!
She drops onto a chair, heartbroken.
MARGARET
Daisy, I don’t have time for this. Not now … (switches off the radio) Look, maybe you’re just homesick. Or maybe you miss Dad. Don’t forget, he’s supposed to be back soon.
DAISY
It’s not Dad I miss; it’s Tim. And I’m not homesick, either. I’m si
xteen years old. I’m not a baby.
MARGARET
All right, tell me what happened. It can’t be that bad.
DAISY
We broke up, Tim and me.
MARGARET
He doesn’t want to see you anymore?
DAISY
No.
MARGARET
But I thought you two were getting along?
DAISY
We were. Sort of.
MARGARET
Everybody has a spat now and then. Even the best of friends.
DAISY
It’s not a “spat,” Maggie. And it’s not a “snit,” either. God, the words you use!
MARGARET
What happened, then? Tell me.
DAISY
If I do, will you promise not to tell Dad? He mustn’t find out. It would kill him.
MARGARET
Daisy, what have you done?
DAISY
Nothing. Don’t look at me like that.
MARGARET
It’s not what I think, is it? Tell me it isn’t, Daisy.
DAISY
Why? What do you think it is?
MARGARET
You tell me.
DAISY
I can’t. I can’t say it.
MARGARET
Did you, Daisy?
DAISY
What?
MARGARET
Did you? I want to know.
DAISY
Not exactly.
MARGARET
Not exactly? What does that mean? Either you did it with Tim or you didn’t do it with Tim. Now which is it?
DAISY
I didn’t do it with Tim.
MARGARET
I don’t believe you … Now what happened last night? And don’t lie to me.
DAISY
All right … Tim suggested we go out on the lake. You know, in his dad’s rowboat … It was so beautiful, Maggie. So quiet out there. We just lay in the boat and looked at the stars. The moon was over MacGregor’s Island.
MARGARET
You lost your virginity in a rowboat?
DAISY
It has a flat bottom.
MARGARET
Daisy, how could you? Don’t you know what might have happened out there? Don’t you?
DAISY
I can swim.
MARGARET
I’m not talking about tipping over. I meant … Oh God, Daisy, don’t you remember what happened to Norma Potter last winter? She was sent to Missouri to look after her aunt. Everyone knew she had no aunt Trixie in Kansas City.
DAISY
We were just lying there, and things got out of hand, I guess. All of a sudden he was inside me, and I said, “No, Tim! No!” and I pushed him off … He wasn’t in very far, Maggie. Just a little. And only for a second or two. Does that mean I’m technically still a virgin?
MARGARET
I don’t know, Daisy. I’m not much of an expert … Did you bleed?
DAISY
Bleed? No.
MARGARET