Etiquette and Vitriol by Nicky Silver (classic fiction .txt) 📗

EMMA: I don’t have a brother!!

TODD: I’m home Mother.

EMMA: Who is this person?

GRACE: She forgets things.

EMMA: I’d remember a brother.

GRACE: Well, you’d think so—Todd, let me look at you.

EMMA: What’s going on here?

GRACE: Oh think, Emma. You remember Todd. Think! He went away five years ago to study sculpting?

EMMA: I don’t think so.

GRACE: Think back. When you were twelve we went to Washington? We had a picnic. We sat on the lawn and ate sandwiches and grapes. You got amebic dysentery.

EMMA: Who did?

TODD: When you were ten we all went to London, for Christmas.

GRACE: We ate lard and salty beans.

TODD: We walked the bridge in the cold dank mist.

EMMA: I don’t know what anyone’s talking about!

GRACE: She represses.

TODD: She’s lucky.

GRACE: What an ironic remark. Isn’t your brother ironic?

EMMA: Who?

GRACE: Skip it—You look thin. Are you eating?

TODD: You mean right now?

GRACE: I meant in general.

TODD: Oh.

GRACE: It’s wonderful to see you.—How long can you stay?—Your father’ll be thrilled!

TODD: He will?

GRACE: He’ll be home soon. He’s at the bank.

TODD: On a Sunday?

GRACE: Is it Sunday?

EMMA (Out): Who are these people!?

GRACE: I was just saying to Nina Triten how I wish you’d come home for a visit. I was beginning to think you didn’t like us. And now, here you are! You’re a man! A grown up! Do I look different? I’ve just lost five pounds. I eat lemon zest and bib lettuce! Prisoners on death row eat better than I!— I’ve stopped smoking. That was three years ago. When Bunny Witton died of emphysema, I took it for a sign—You look well. Your clothes don’t fit and I must admit they’re dirty.

TODD: They’re comfortable.

GRACE: We’ll get you some new clothes. We’ll go shopping first thing in the morning. Remember how we used to go shopping? You’ll need a blazer. I saw a beautiful Byblos at Plage Tahiti.—Where are my manners!? You must be starved! How did you get here? Would you like a drink?

TODD: No thank you.

EMMA: I would.

(Grace rings bell.)

GRACE: Be honest. I look older, don’t I? I shouldn’t. I had my eyes done last August, but one’s tighter than the other and now everyone thinks I’m winking at them all the time—I know! We’ll have a party! How long can you stay!

TODD: I don’t think that’s—

GRACE: It’s decided! I have decided. You’ll be the guest of honor!

TODD: I have AIDS.

GRACE (After a moment): We’ll have a buffet, that’ll be nice. You give me a list of what you’d like. Or we could barbecue. That’d be sweet. I don’t have any idea what you like anymore.

TODD: I have AIDS. I need a bed and a place to live. I have AIDS.

GRACE (Falling apart, plowing ahead): Your father can string up those paper lanterns. The ones we used at your sister’s sweet sixteen. We still have them, I think. I think they’re in the attic. We packed them away, I think, with the Christmas ornaments.

TODD: I need a pillow and some peace and quiet.

EMMA: Who are you?

GRACE: We’ll serve champagne or punch, or something to drink.

TODD: I have—

GRACE (Her despair now shows): And the Beekmans’ll come! Essie was always fond of you. She’s married now. Gotten fat. Don’t be shocked when you see her.

TODD: I said—

GRACE: I don’t think she’s happy really. She married a nice enough man. Very attractive. In real estate.

TODD: I have AIDS.

GRACE: I think he beats her.

TODD: I have AIDS.

GRACE: And the Plimptons.

TODD: Listen to me.

GRACE (Rather frenzied now): And the Weathertons—maybe we should cater! I don’t know—I love planning a party! I feel I’m really in my element when I’m planning a party! We’ll have music on the terrace! I’m most alive planning a party! You’ll see, Todd, it’ll be wonderful! It’ll be beautiful! You’re going to love it! You’re just going to love it!

TODD: I have AIDS.

(Blackout. Grace steps into a pool of light and addresses the audience.)

GRACE: We were always very close and I thought Todd extremely gifted. He sculpted the gargoyles on the terrace, of course that was later. We didn’t need to speak. Sometimes, we would just sit in the garden, reading, not needing to speak. We would watch the leaves change color.

(Arthur joins her in the pool of light.)

It’s Todd, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Who?

GRACE: Buzz. Talk to him.

ARTHUR: What’s wrong?

GRACE: He’s dying.

(Grace turns and exits. After a moment, Arthur addresses the audience.)

ARTHUR: When he was a boy, Buzz wanted to be a sports announcer on the radio. He loved the Philadelphia Phillies. He talked about them all the time. He said their names over and over again: Nick Etten and Danny Litwhiler, Eddie Waitkus and his favorite, Granville Hamner. Buzz worshipped him. He saw the poetry in his name. Oh, that was me. Not Buzz. I liked the Phillies. Buzz drew a lot. I think. Buzz was born a month after my father died and I was a little distracted. He never liked the Phillies, I did. But later, we had catches, on the yard. And like all little boys, Buzz looked up to me and idealized me. He admired me. He loves me and I love him. He’s my son and my world and the most important thing in my life—did I say thing? I mean person. And I would do anything for him. Take any suffering. I would cut off my arm. I wouldn’t cut off my arm. I know it’s a figure of speech, but I wouldn’t. I need my arms. He’s not the most important person in my life. I do love him, but I said that, didn’t I?

(The lights come up. Todd is dragging a large sack in from the terrace.)

Buzz?

TODD: Yes?

ARTHUR: What are you doing?

TODD: I’ve been in the yard.

ARTHUR: What?

TODD: I fell asleep on the sofa, I thought I’d never wake up. But I had strange dreams, so I went out for some air. (He spills the contents of the sack onto the floor. It is dozens of bones)

ARTHUR: What is that?

TODD: There was something sticking up, out of the ground. I dug