Etiquette and Vitriol by Nicky Silver (classic fiction .txt) 📗
- Author: Nicky Silver
Book online «Etiquette and Vitriol by Nicky Silver (classic fiction .txt) 📗». Author Nicky Silver
(Lights come up on Phyllis, young and silly, holding a baby, and Howard, reading. Bishop watches.)
PHYLLIS: He’s a beautiful baby. Marie says he’s beautiful. My mother says we’re out of mashed potatoes and did you want dessert?
HOWARD: Uh-huh.
BISHOP (Out): I can’t remember this.
PHYLLIS: I think he looks like you.
BISHOP: But I do.
PHYLLIS: Except he doesn’t have any hair. If we shaved your head he’d look more like you. Or we could get him a little wig. Do you think we could get him a little wig, Howard? Would you like a little Zsa Zsa Gabor synthetic wig, Baby?
HOWARD: I’m reading.
BISHOP: Look at me.
PHYLLIS: Look at him Howard.
HOWARD: I’m reading.
BISHOP: Look at me.
PHYLLIS: We should name him Howard—I don’t mean we should name him Howard—although we could—I mean, Howard, we should name him.
BISHOP (To Phyllis): Don’t name me Howard.
HOWARD: Not now, I’m reading.
PHYLLIS: But it’s been two months!
BISHOP (To Howard): I need a name.
HOWARD: Darling—
PHYLLIS: Who?
HOWARD: Phyllis—
PHYLLIS: What?
HOWARD: You’re in my light.
PHYLLIS: We can’t keep calling him Baby. It’s embarrassing—
HOWARD: Can’t you see that I’m reading?
BISHOP (To Howard): So what?
PHYLLIS: I’m sorry.
HOWARD: I have to read now.
PHYLLIS: What are you reading?
HOWARD: A book.
PHYLLIS: But Howard—
HOWARD: You’re in my light.
PHYLLIS: I’m sorry.
HOWARD: Thank you.
PHYLLIS: I suppose we could call him Baby.
HOWARD: Uh-huh.
PHYLLIS: Baby Hogan. It has a ring. No, no. I don’t like it. The other children will make fun of him.
HOWARD: He doesn’t know any other children.
PHYLLIS: But he will.
BISHOP (Out): Not really.
PHYLLIS: And I don’t think Baby is an appropriate name. What if he’s tall? People will say, “Here comes that big Baby.”
HOWARD (Out): This went on for months.
PHYLLIS: I’ll name you baby. I don’t mean I’ll name you Baby, I mean, baby, I’ll name you.
HOWARD (Out): What was sweet became cloying.
PHYLLIS: That’s kind of jazzy.
HOWARD (Out): What was charming became grating.
PHYLLIS: You’re pink. We’ll call you Pink Hogan—no, no, that’s faggy.
HOWARD (Out): What was endearing became insufferable.
PHYLLIS: Blue. Blue is for boys—no, no. People will think you were a blue baby.
HOWARD (Out): I worked more and more.
PHYLLIS: What do you think Howard, do you like pink or blue?
HOWARD: I like brown.
PHYLLIS: For a name?
HOWARD: As a color.
PHYLLIS: We can’t call him brown, Howard. People will think we’re Negroes.
HOWARD: Please stop talking.
BISHOP: Name me!
PHYLLIS: We have to name the baby, Howard.
BISHOP: Name me!
PHYLLIS: We have to! It’s humiliating! The other mothers come up to me in the supermarket and they say, “Oooo what an adorable baby, what’s his name?”
HOWARD (Out): It’s like living with a metronome!
PHYLLIS: And I just say the first thing that comes into my head!
The other day he was Cap’n Crunch—I was in cereal.
HOWARD (Snapping): WHAT AM I DOING!?
PHYLLIS: What?
HOWARD: WHAT AM I DOING?
PHYLLIS: Reading?
HOWARD: THAT’S RIGHT! THAT’S RIGHT!
PHYLLIS: Don’t yell at me! (To Bishop) Hold this. (She hands Bishop the baby) Don’t yell at me!
HOWARD: YOU CAN SEE THAT I’M READING!
PHYLLIS: You don’t love me anymore!
HOWARD: What are you talking about?
PHYLLIS: You never used to yell at me!
HOWARD: You never used to get on my nerves—
PHYLLIS: I get on your nerves?!!!
HOWARD: Just a little—(Out) All the time. (To Phyllis) Now and then.
PHYLLIS: You used to think I was funny! Now you think I’m stupid!
HOWARD: No I don’t. (Out) Like a post. (To Phyllis) Not at all.
PHYLLIS: I know you do! I see you roll your eyes when I ask you questions—you used to be flattered, now you’re annoyed!
HOWARD: Calm down.
PHYLLIS: But how will I learn if I don’t ask questions?! A person has to ask questions! I can change! You’ll see! I can get smarter! I can get more sophisticated! GIMMEE THAT BOOK! What’s it about?
(Phyllis grabs the book and exits. Pam enters and addresses the audience.)
PAM: Howard loves me. I am a hundred percent secure in that. We make love every day and it’s beautiful and he holds me next to himself and he whispers my name over and over again and I hear music and I make him do things he doesn’t know he wants to. Well maybe not every day. But Howard is a wonderful lover, and I’m in a position to know. I started when I was twelve, with a cousin-by-marriage. And I have had hundreds of lovers since—both in front of the camera and behind, if you know what I mean. But the fact of the matter is, I never felt anything before Howard. Oh sure, I felt things, other things, but not the thing I thought I was supposed to feel. And yes! I know he’s married, and he can’t let go. But listen. This is my life and my future and my old age around the bend and I can’t worry about who I’m hurting, because everybody has to take responsibility for their own actions.
(Pam exits. Lights comes up on Bishop eating the baby which had been him in the last scene.)
BISHOP (Out): There was a baby on the plane.
(Phyllis enters, weak, weary and disheveled. She drags a bloody, trousered leg.)
PHYLLIS: Bishop?
BISHOP: What?
PHYLLIS: You’re eating the baby.
BISHOP: So?
PHYLLIS: I thought we were saving the baby.
BISHOP: For what?
PHYLLIS: Dessert.
BISHOP: Well, I’m eating it.
PHYLLIS: I wish we had more lipsticks.
BISHOP: For snacks?
PHYLLIS: For my lips. I feel frumpish.
BISHOP: You look fine. You look the same.
PHYLLIS: I can’t
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