The Magic Tower and Other One-Act Plays (4 page)

MRS. O
’
FALLON
: You show people! Always putting on an act! I had one before. A Shakespearean actor, he was! Started recitin’ Hamlet’s solitary ev’ry time I ast him for the rent! Couldn’t get a word in edgewise! Humph! I finally had to throw his stuff out the window! Well, I just wanted to warn you, Mrs. Flynn. I have to be more strict about payments from married couples than from single young
men—good
night! [
She starts to leave. Just then Jim enters. He playfully slaps at Mrs. O’Fallon. She instantly thaws
.]

JIM
: Hello, old sour puss! What’s up?

MRS. O
’
FALLON
: Git along with you, Jimmy! Always fooling around, you are! You oughta be trounced! [
Mrs. O’Fallon exits rather mincingly. Jim thumbs his nose at her back as she closes the door
.]

LINDA
[
after a moment
]: Oh, that horrible woman! She gives me the creeps!

JIM
: What was it about? The rent? Poor old Linda! She’s always picking on you! Lookit here! [
From under his coat he produces a drumstick and an evening paper
.] Success! Here! That’s for you!

LINDA
: You eat it, Jim. I’m not hungry.

JIM
: Aren’t you really? Well, I am, all right. [
He lies on couch reading the paper and gnawing the drumstick. Linda picks up some sewing. Her face resumes its former quiet smile
.]

LINDA
[
softly
]: I’m glad that you’re back. It’s so much nicer now.

JIM
[
absorbed in paper
]: Hmmm.

LINDA
: In a minute I’ll forget everything that she said!

JIM
[
jumping up suddenly, his face ecstatic
]: He’s here, Linda, he’s here!

LINDA
[
startled and amused
]: What on earth are you howling about? The new chimpanzee at the zoo?

JIM
: A fine way to speak of our future patron!

LINDA
[
aroused
]: Our future patron?

JIM
[
springs toward her, brandishing paper
]: T. Anthony Wescott, the most famous art dealer in Europe. The man who discovered half the modern masters. Arrived this morning aboard the
Île de France
. Stopping at the Waldorf-Astoria. [
Reads from the paper
.] “I am here on business,” says Mr. Westcott, “My business is to review the best of contemporary American art. I am especially interested in the work of struggling young men of talent who have not yet acquired a reputation. I shall be the Christopher Columbus of modern art!”

LINDA
: Good Heavens!

JIM
[
grandiloquently
]: And I . . . I, Mr. Wescott, shall be your Virgin Islands!

LINDA
: What on earth do you mean?

JIM
: I’m going to see him at once!

LINDA
: Going to see
him—in
all this
rain—at
the
Waldorf—How
do you know they’ll let you in, darling?

JIM
: Let me in? I’ll break the door down! Where’s my hat! My cane?

LINDA
: Here. [
Linda hands him his wide-brimmed hat
.]

JIM
: Yes, and my cane! All artists have canes! I’ll break it over his head if he says he’s not in! Oh, he’ll see me! Won’t he, Linda?

LINDA
: Of course he’ll see you, darling! [
She hands him his cane
.] But don’t get so excited over it. Act very nonchalant. As though you didn’t give a tinker’s damn! As though every art dealer in America were simply clamoring for your work! Hadn’t you better call him first?

JIM
: Call him? Yes, of course! I’ll make an appointment. I’ll tell him I’m President of the National Academy. . . .

LINDA
: Oh, no. Tell him you’re a millionaire. . . .

JIM
: A multi-millionaire who wants an old master to match his new mistress! That’s it! That will make him foam at the
mouth—at
least till he sees me and the truth comes out! Say, have you got a nickel?

LINDA
: Not a penny, darling.

JIM
: Neither have I. How ghastly poor we are! It should be very easy for us to get into the Kingdom of Heaven!

LINDA
: I think we’re already there.

JIM
: We will be, Linda. If Wescott gives me a break we’ll be made! Never mind the appointment. I’ll take him by surprise!

LINDA
: But what will you do for carfare?

JIM
[
ruefully
]: Suppose I’ll have to walk.

LINDA
: Through all this rain!

JIM
: Would you rather I borrowed a dime from Mrs. O’Fallon? Maybe I’d better do that. I’ll call her Macushla. . . .

LINDA
: Please don’t! Perhaps you’d better wait till tomorrow morning. He’ll still be in town.

JIM
: No. Not on your life. Rain brimstone for all I
care—I’m
going right
NOW—I’ll
think of you all the
way—Linda
. . . . [
Pulling up his collar and turning down his hat-brim
.] That will keep me warm and dry!

LINDA
: I’ll think of you, too.

LINDA
: Aren’t you forgetting something?

JIM
[
turning back
]: Oh, I haven’t kissed you!

LINDA
[
laughing
]: I meant your pictures!

JIM
[
snapping fingers
]: Of course. My pictures. [
Dashes around room selecting canvases
.] Which ones shall I take? I know! The ones of you! I’ll take them to bring me good luck!

LINDA
: I’ve brought you nothing but bad luck, Jim.

JIM
[
gaily
]: Don’t be silly. You’re my lucky star.

LINDA
: Your evil star!

JIM
[
selecting pictures
]: This one and this one . . . ah! This one of you in your dancing costume!

JIM
: What are you doing, Linda? This is no time for music.

LINDA
: It’s always time for music. See! He doesn’t deny it. I am his evil star. . . . Dance with me, darling, before you go.

JIM
[
taking her in his arms
]: Linda! You’re so indifferent!

LINDA
: Indifferent? Oh, if you only knew! How excited I am!

JIM
: Worried?

LINDA
: Not a bit! Why should I be? There’s not a doubt in my mind, I’m so sure of you, Jim!

JIM
[
beaming with pride
]: Are you really?

LINDA
: Remember to ask him for an advance payment, Jim. We’re five weeks behind on the rent!

JIM
: Five weeks? Ho, ho! That’s nothing!

LINDA
: And guess what we’re having for supper tonight?

JIM
: Nightingale tongues! We’ll have nightingale tongues!

LINDA
[
shouting
]: Half a loaf of stale bread!

JIM
[
breaking away and clasping his ears
]: Well, half a loaf is better than none!

LINDA
[
burying her head on his shoulder and hugging him
]: But it’s such stale bread, darling. So dreadfully stale. It would ruin your dental work!

JIM
: Remember the Bishop of Bingen? While everyone else was stricken with famine he locked himself up in a tower filled with good grain. Alas, poor fellow! The rats ate him up.

LINDA
[
laughing
]: What’s the moral, please?

JIM
: We’ll never be eaten by rats! [
Picking up canvases
.] The filthy little rats of greed will never get into this magic tower of ours, will they, Linda?

LINDA
[
smiling
]: Of course they won’t!

JIM
: There
is
something magical about it,
isn’t
there?

LINDA
: This little room of ours?

JIM
: Yes. Our magic tower. With stairs so long and steep that nobody but you and I can ever reach it! [
Goes to door smiling raptly
.] It’s like living in a state of enchantment, isn’t it, Linda? [
Opening the door
.] Don’t you feel that way about it sometimes, Linda?

LINDA
[
softly
]: Of course I do. I feel it so strongly sometimes that I’m frightened!

JIM
: Why frightened?

LINDA
: I wonder where it will end.

JIM
[
laughing
]: Then you aren’t really enchanted. In a state of enchantment people are never concerned about endings. They just go on and on and on. Nothing ever happens. Nothing, I mean, that really matters.

LINDA
: How thrilling that sounds! I wonder if it’s true?

JIM
: I’ll prove it to you, Linda!

LINDA
[
gently
]: I’m sure that you will. [
She kisses him and he goes out the door
.]

JIM
[
going down stairs
]: And nightingale tongues for supper! Remember that. Walking in wet weather gives me such an appetite! So long. . . .

LINDA
[
standing in doorway
]: I wish you weren’t going.

JIM
[
from the stairs
]: Why?

LINDA
: When you’re gone the magic tower isn’t safe. I have such awful thoughts!

JIM
: About me?

LINDA
: No. About me. I think what a bother I am. How happy you’d be without me. Just think, if it wasn’t for me you’d still be a gay young student without a care in the world!

JIM
: You lovely fool! I’d be the world’s most miserable man! So long. . . .

LINDA
: Goodbye, Jim. Good luck! [
She stands in the opened doorway
until he is out of sight. Then she closes the door. She leans against it a moment with a faint, brooding smile. Then, advancing to the center of the room and looking slowly around
.] Our magic tower! Our lovely, leaking tower!

LINDA
[
slightly cringing
]: You, Mrs. O’Fallon?

MOLLY
: Naw, it’s me! Ha, ha.

LINDA
[
slightly relieved
]: Oh, Molly. Come in.

MOLLY
: There’s company to see yuh, Mizz Flynn.

LINDA
[
with sudden apprehension
]: SHHH!

MOLLY
[
loudly
]: Whatsamatter?

LINDA
: Is it a big fat man with a briefcase?

MOLLY
: A brief case o’ what?

LINDA
[
desperately
]: Oh, a satchel, a leather
case—you
know—is
he a bill collector or something like that?

MOLLY
[
giggling
]: Oh! I thought you meant a case o’ measles or something! Ha, ha. Oh, my! Guess what he called you, Mizz Flynn? He called you the Duchess. He says tell the Duchess . . .

LINDA
[
delighted
]: It’s Mitch! [
Throws open the door and runs out on the landing
.] MITCH! Is it you?

MRS. O
’
FALLON
[
calling from downstairs
]: Molly! Molly!

MITCH
[
from below
]: Me and the Babe!

MOLLY
: Well, I will be seeing you, Duchess. [
Molly leaves
.]

LINDA
: Oh, BABE!

BABE
[
from below
]: Yeah. It’s me. We’re waitin’ for the elevator.

LINDA
[
terribly agitated
]:
How—are
you! [
She comes back into the room with both hands pressed to her face. She starts to laugh, which laugh rapidly becomes tears. Babe and Mitch are heard climbing the stairs
.]

BABE
[
puffing, offstage
]: Seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty! Whew! My stars and fallen arches! I wouldn’t climb another five flights to Heaven!

BABE
: Duchess! Fer cryin’ out loud! [
She drops a large, paper-wrapped bundle and flings arms around Linda’s sobbing figure
.]