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    Happy Birthday, Wanda June

    Page 9
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      liking to fail in any way) That's a failing, I know.

      PENELOPE

      (accepting this ruefully) I see. file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/K...gut%20-%20Happy%20Birthday%20Wanda-June.htm (119 of 143) [10/16/2004 4:36:53 PM]

      HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      PAUL

      I don't care. I don't care if there was love or not. That's all right. I'm going to go to my room and close the door. I don't want to hear any more. PAUL exits wretchedly to his room.

      HAROLD

      See how you've upset him. He was so merry and hale before you came home. PENELOPE

      How unhappy he's going to be--alone in his room.

      HAROLD

      He'll play with his rifle, I expect. That will cheer him up. PENELOPE

      Rifle? HAROLD

      I bought him a twenty-two yesterday--on the way home from Hamburger Heaven. And where is the good doctor? Have you two feathered a love nest somewhere?

      PENELOPE

      He's in East St. Louis with his mother--visiting an aunt. HAROLD

      Last I heard, his mother was going alone. PENELOPE

      He's afraid of you, Harold. He knew you'd want to fight him. He doesn't know anything about file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/K...gut%20-%20Happy%20Birthday%20Wanda-June.htm (120 of 143) [10/16/2004 4:36:53 PM]

      HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      fighting. He hates pain.

      HAROLD

      And you, a supposedly healthy woman, do not detest him for his cowardice? PENELOPE

      It seems highly intelligent to me. HAROLD

      What kind of a country has this become? The men wear beads and refuse to fight--and the woman adore them. America's days of greatness are over. It has drunk the blue soup. PENELOPE

      Blue soup? HAROLD

      An Indian narcotic we were forced to drink. It put us in a haze--a honey-colored haze which was lavender around the edge. We laughed, we sang, we snoozed. When a bird called, we answered back. Every living thing was our brother or our sister, we thought. Looseleaf stepped on a cockroach six inches long, and we cried. We had a funeral that went on for five days--for the cockroach! I sang "Oh Promise Me." Can you imagine? Where the hell did I ever learn the words to "Oh Promise Me"? Looseleaf delivered a lecture on maintenance procedures for the hydraulic system of a B-36. All the time we were drinking more blue soup, more blue soup! Never stopped drinking blue soup. Blue soup all the time. We'd go out after food in that file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/K...gut%20-%20Happy%20Birthday%20Wanda-June.htm (121 of 143) [10/16/2004 4:36:53 PM]

      HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      honey-colored haze, and everything that was edible had a penumbra of lavender.

      PENELOPE

      Sounds quite beautiful. HAROLD

      (angered) Beautiful, you say? It wasn't life, it wasn't death--it wasn't anything!

      (anger still mounting) Beautiful? Seven years gone-(snapping his fingers) like that, like that! Seven years of silliness and random dreams!

      Seven years of nothingness, when there could have been so much!

      PENELOPE

      Like what? HAROLD

      (becoming dangerously physical, seizing a battle-ax) Action! Interaction! Give and take! Challenge and response!

      He splits a coffee table with the ax.

      PAUL

      (rushing in with his .22 rifle at a high port arms)

      Mom?

      HAROLD

      What's this?

      PAUL wilts instantly, attempts to make his rifle inconspicuous, harmless, meaningless.

      HAROLD

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      What's this?

      PAUL

      Nothing. HAROLD

      That's a rifle you have?

      PAUL

      No. HAROLD

      Of course it is. Is it loaded?

      PAUL

      No. HAROLD

      Open the bolt!

      PAUL obeys. A cartridge pops out.

      HAROLD

      That's a cartridge, if I'm not mistaken. Gunpowder, bullet, cartridge case, and fulminate of mercury percussion cap--all set to go. PAUL

      I was cleaning it. HAROLD

      Pick up that cartridge and slip it back into the chamber--where it belongs. PAUL

      Gee whiz, Dad-HAROLD

      Welcome to manhood, you little sparrowfart! Load that gun!

      PAUL

      (bleatingly) Dad-file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/K...gut%20-%20Happy%20Birthday%20Wanda-June.htm (123 of 143) [10/16/2004 4:36:53 PM]

      HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      HAROLD

      Too late! It's man to man now. Protecting your mother from me, are you? Protect her!`PENELOPE

      He's a child! HAROLD

      With an iron penis three feet long. Load it, boy. PENELOPE

      You're begging him to kill you? HAROLD

      If he thinks he's man enough. PENELOPE

      (amazed by sudden insight) That's really what you want. You become furious when people won't make you dead. HAROLD

      I'm teaching my son to be a man. PENELOPE

      So he can kill you. You hate your own life that much. You beg for a hero to kill you. HAROLD

      I plan to live one hundred years! PENELOPE

      No you don't. HAROLD

      If that's the case--what's to prevent my killing myself? PENELOPE

      Honor, I suppose. file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/K...gut%20-%20Happy%20Birthday%20Wanda-June.htm (124 of 143) [10/16/2004 4:36:53 PM]

      HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      HAROLD

      What a handsome word. PENELOPE

      (wonderingly) But it's all balled up in your head with death. The highest honor is death. When you talk of these animals, one by one, you don't just talk of killing them. You honored them with death. Harold--it is not honor to be killed.

      HAROLD

      If you've lived a good life, fought well-PENELOPE It's still just death, the absence of life--no honor at all. It's worse than the blue soup by far-that nothingness. To you, though, it's the honor that crowns them all.

      HAROLD

      May I continue with the rearing of my son? (to PAUL)

      Load that gun!

      PAUL shakes his head.

      HAROLD

      Load it! PAUL refuses.

      HAROLD

      Then speak, by God! Can you fight with words?

      PAUL

      I don't want to fight you. file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/K...gut%20-%20Happy%20Birthday%20Wanda-June.htm (125 of 143) [10/16/2004 4:36:53 PM] HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      HAROLD

      Get mad! Tell me you don't like the way I treat your mother! Tell me you wish I'd never come home! PAUL

      (weakly) It's your house, Dad.

      HAROLD

      (throwing up his hands) Everybody simply evaporates! (including the

      audience, inviting it to share his indignation) There are guest issues to be fought out here--or to be argued, at least. The enemy, the champion of all who oppose me, is in East St. Louis with his mother and his aunt! I have so far done battle with a woman and a child and a violin.

      PENELOPE

      The old heroes are going to have to get used to this, Harold--the new heroes who refuse to fight. They're trying to save the planet. There's no time for battle, no point to battle anymore. HAROLD

      I feel mocked, insulted, with no sort of satisfaction in prospect. We don't have to fight with steel. I can fight with words. I'm not an inarticulate ape, you know, who grabs a rock for want of a vocabulary. Call him up in East St. Louis, Penelope. Tell him to come here. PENELOPE

      No.

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      HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      HAROLD

      (emptily, turning away) No. Pause. He contemplates PAUL.

      HAROLD

      And my son, t
    he only son of Harold Ryan--he's going to grow up to be a vanisher, too? PENELOPE

      I don't know. I hope he never hunts. I hope he never kills another human being. HAROLD

      (to PAUL, quietly) You hope this, too? PAUL

      I don't know what I hope. But I don't think you care what I hope, anyway. You don't know me. (indicating PENELOPE) You don't know her, either. I don't think you know anybody. You talk to everybody just the same. HAROLD

      I'm talking to you gently now. PAUL

      Yeah. But it's going to get loud again. PENELOPE

      He's right, Harold. To you, we're simply pieces in a game--this one labeled "woman," that one labeled

      "son." There is no piece labeled

      "enemy" and you are confused. Lion doorbell roars. PAUL goes to answer it. file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/K...gut%20-%20Happy%20Birthday%20Wanda-June.htm (127 of 143) [10/16/2004 4:36:53 PM]

      HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      HAROLD

      There won't be anybody out there. That's the new style: nobody anywhere. PAUL, aghast, admits NORBERT WOODLY. WOODLY is high as a kite on his own adrenaline. PENELOPE

      (aghast, chokingly) Get out of here. WOODLY

      It's really that bad? He comes farther into the room, bravely.

      PENELOPE

      You fool, you fool. WOODLY

      Oh--look at the poor, crucified violin, would you? HAROLD

      It died for your sins. WOODLY

      This little corpse is intended as a lesson? HAROLD

      There's a certain amount of information there.

      WOODLY

      Lest we forget how cruel you are. PENELOPE

      (moving to the telephone) I'm going to call the police. HAROLD

      (frighteningly) Don't!

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      HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      WOODLY

      I agree. WOODLY closes the door. PENELOPE backs away from the phone, drifts toward PAUL, who still holds his rifle.

      HAROLD

      This is man to man. WOODLY

      It's healer to killer. Is that the same thing? HAROLD

      What brought you back? WOODLY

      The same hairy, humorless old gods who move you from hither to yon. "Honor, " if you like.

      HAROLD

      (to PENELOPE) He's a champion after all.

      WOODLY

      Of the corpses and cripples you create for our instruction--when all we can learn from them is this: how cruel you are. PENELOPE

      This is suicide. (to PAUL)

      Go get the police.

      HAROLD

      Stop! PAUL stops.

      HAROLD

      There's going to be no bloodshed here. I know how he'll fight--the only way he can fight: with words. file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/K...gut%20-%20Happy%20Birthday%20Wanda-June.htm (129 of 143) [10/16/2004 4:36:53 PM]

      HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      The truth.

      (to WOODLY)

      Am I correct?

      WOODLY

      Yes. HAROLD

      I can defeat him with anything from flavored toothpicks to siege howitzers. But he got it into his little head that he could come here and demolish Harold Ryan with words. The truth! Correct?

      WOODLY

      Correct. HAROLD

      What an hallucination!

      (laughs)

      Oh, dear, dear, dear, dear. Oh dearie me.

      WOODLY

      You haven't heard me yet. HAROLD

      You intend to crack my eardrums with your voice? Will I bleed from my every orifice? Who will clean up this awful mess? WOODLY

      We'll find out now, won't we? PENELOPE

      No, we won't. No matter how it begins, it will end in death. Because it always does. Isn't that always how it ends, Harold--in death? HAROLD

      There has to be a threat of some sort, nobility of some sort, file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/K...gut%20-%20Happy%20Birthday%20Wanda-June.htm (130 of 143) [10/16/2004 4:36:53 PM] HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      glamour of some sort, sport of some sort. These elements are lacking.

      WOODLY

      You're a filthy, rotten bastard. HAROLD

      (pretending to be wounded) Oooooo. That hurt. WOODLY

      You're old--so old. HAROLD

      Now who's being cruel? WOODLY

      A living fossil! Like the cockroaches and the horseshoe crabs. HAROLD

      We do survive, don't we? You're going to have to apologize, of course, for calling me a bastard. That's a matter of form--not allowing you or anybody to call me a bastard. No rush about that. Just remember to apologize sometime soon. PENELOPE takes the rifle from PAUL.

      WOODLY

      You're a son of a bitch. HAROLD

      Yes--well--uh--that's another one of those statements which more or less automatically requires an apology. Whenever you feel like it. It's sort of like turning off an alarm clock that's ringing loudly. Your apology turns off the alarm. PENELOPE

      file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/K...gut%20-%20Happy%20Birthday%20Wanda-June.htm (131 of 143) [10/16/2004 4:36:53 PM] HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      (leveling the gun) I'm turning off the alarm. I'm turning off everything.

      HAROLD

      Ah! The lady is armed. PENELOPE

      I want you to get out of here, Norbert. Harold--I want you to sit down in the chair, and not lift a finger until Norbert is gone. HAROLD

      (to WOODLY) Whoever has the gun, you see, gets to tell everybody else exactly what to do. It's the American way.

      PENELOPE

      I mean it! HAROLD

      Then you'd better fix your bayonet, because there aren't any bullets in the gun. PENELOPE

      (to PAUL) Where's the bullet?

      PAUL makes no move to help.

      HAROLD

      Help your mother find the bullet. PENELOPE

      (to PAUL, pointing to the floor) There it is. Give it to me. PAUL obeys.

      PENELOPE

      How do I load?

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      HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      HAROLD

      (to PAUL) Load it for her.

      PAUL shakily obeys.

      HAROLD

      Cock it, too.

      PAUL obeys.

      HAROLD

      Give it to her.

      PAUL obeys.

      PENELOPE

      All right! Am I exceedingly dangerous now?

      HAROLD

      The National Safety Council would be appalled. PENELOPE

      Then listen to me. (angrily)

      You're both disgusting--with your pride, your pride.

      (to WOODLY)

      I hate you for coming here--like a federal marshal in a western film. I loved you when you stayed away. But here you are now--high noon in the Superbowl! You fool, you fool.

      WOODLY

      Everything's going to be beautiful. PENELOPE

      You fake! You're no better than the dumbest general in the Pentagon. (pause) You're not going to beat Harold. file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/K...gut%20-%20Happy%20Birthday%20Wanda-June.htm (133 of 143) [10/16/2004 4:36:53 PM]

      HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

      You're not going to beat anybody. You're not going to stay here, either--yammering and taunting until you're most gloriously killed. Go home!

      HAROLD

      She's right, Norbert--go home.

      WOODLY

      I haven't said all I have to say. PENELOPE

      Out! WOODLY

      I haven't told you, Harold, how comical I think you are.

      HAROLD

      (hit squarely, absolutely unable to forgive) Comical?

      PENELOPE

      (to HAROLD) Sit down or I'll shoot!

      HAROLD goes over to her, easily takes the gun away)

      HAROLD

      Give me that Goddamn thing! Now get out of here, or I might kill you. Who knows? P
    ENELOPE

      (terrified) You've killed women?

     


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