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    A Delicate Balance

    Page 8
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      TOBIAS (Slightly edgy challenge)

      Yes?

      AGNES

      Yes.

      (Harder)

      We don’t decide the route.

      TOBIAS

      You’re copping out … as they say.

      AGNES

      No, indeed.

      TOBIAS (Quiet anger)

      Yes, you are!

      AGNES (Quiet warning)

      Don’t you yell at me.

      TOBIAS

      You’re copping out!

      AGNES

      (Quiet, calm, and almost smug)

      We follow. We let our … men decide the moral issues.

      TOBIAS (Quite angry)

      Never! You’ve never done that in your life!

      AGNES

      Always, my darling. Whatever you decide … I’ll make it work; I’ll run it for you so you’ll never know there’s been a change in anything.

      TOBIAS

      (Almost laughing; shaking his head)

      No. No.

      AGNES (To end the discussion)

      So, let me know.

      TOBIAS (Still almost laughing)

      I know I’m tired. I know I’ve hardly slept at all: I know I’ve sat down here, and thought …

      AGNES

      And made your decisions.

      TOBIAS

      But I have not judged. I told you that.

      AGNES (Almost a stranger)

      Well, when you have … you let me know.

      TOBIAS (Frustration and anger)

      NO!

      AGNES (Cool)

      You’ll wake the house.

      TOBIAS (Angry)

      I’ll wake the house!

      AGNES

      This is not the time for you to lose control.

      TOBIAS

      I’LL LOSE CONTROL! I have sat here … in the cold, in the empty cold, I have sat here alone, and …

      (Anger has shifted to puzzlement, complaint)

      I’ve looked at everything, all of it. I thought of you, and Julia, and Claire. …

      AGNES (Still cool)

      And Edna? And Harry?

      TOBIAS (Tiny pause; then anger)

      Well, of course! What do you think!

      AGNES (Tiny smile)

      I don’t know. I’m listening.

      (JULIA appears in the archway; wears a dressing gown; subdued, sleepy)

      JULIA

      Good morning. I don’t suppose there’s … shall I make some coffee?

      AGNES (Chin high)

      Why don’t you do that, darling.

      TOBIAS (A little embarrassed)

      Good morning, Julie.

      JULIA (Hating it)

      I’m sorry about last night, Daddy.

      TOBIAS

      Oh, well, now …

      JULIA (Bite to it)

      I mean I’m sorry for having embarrassed you.

      (Starts toward the hallway)

      AGNES

      Coffee.

      JULIA

      (Pausing at the archway; to TOBIAS)

      Aren’t you sorry for embarrassing me, too?

      (Waits a moment, smiles, exits. Pause)

      AGNES

      Well, isn’t that nice that Julia’s making coffee? No? If the help aren’t up, isn’t it nice to have a daughter who can put a pot to boil?

      TOBIAS

      (Under his breath, disgusted)

      “Aren’t you sorry for embarrassing me, too.”

      AGNES

      You have a problem there with Julia.

      TOBIAS

      I? I have a problem!

      AGNES

      Yes.

      (Gentle irony)

      But at least you have your women with you—crowded ’round, firm arm, support. That must be a comfort to you. Most explorers go alone, don’t have their families with them—pitching tents, tending the fire, shooing off the … the antelopes or the bears or whatever.

      TOBIAS (Wanting to talk about it)

      “Aren’t you sorry for embarrassing me, too.”

      AGNES

      Are you quoting?

      TOBIAS

      Yes.

      AGNES

      Next we’ll have my sister with us—another porter for the dreadful trip.

      (Irony)

      Claire has never missed a chance to participate in watching. She’ll be here. We’ll have us all.

      TOBIAS

      And you’ll all sit down and watch me carefully; smoke your pipes and stir the cauldron; watch.

      AGNES (Dreamy; pleased)

      Yes.

      TOBIAS

      You, who make all the decisions, really rule the game …

      AGNES (So patient)

      That is an illusion you have.

      TOBIAS

      You’ll all sit here—too early for … anything on this … stupid Sunday—all of you and … and dare me?—when it’s just as much your choice as mine?

      AGNES

      Each time that Julia comes, each clockwork time … do you send her back? Do you tell her, “Julia, go home to your husband, try it again”? Do you? No, you let it … slip. It’s your decision, sir.

      TOBIAS

      It is not! I …

      AGNES

      … and I must live with it, resign myself one marriage more, and wait, and hope that Julia’s motherhood will come … one day, one marriage.

      (Tiny laugh)

      I am almost too old to be a grandmother as I’d hoped … too young to be one. Oh, I had wanted that: the youngest older woman in the block. Julia is almost too old to have a child properly, will be if she ever does … if she marries again. You could have pushed her back … if you’d wanted to.

      TOBIAS (Bewildered incredulity)

      It’s very early yet: that must be it. I’ve never heard such …

      AGNES

      Or Teddy! No? No stammering here? You’ll let this pass?

      TOBIAS (Quiet embarrassment)

      Please.

      AGNES (Remorseless)

      When Teddy died?

      (Pause)

      We could have had another son; we could have tried. But no … those months—or was it a year—?

      TOBIAS

      No more of this!

      AGNES

      … I think it was a year, when you spilled yourself on my belly, sir? “Please? Please, Tobias?” No, you wouldn’t even say it out: I don’t want another child, another loss. “Please? Please, Tobias?” And guiding you, trying to hold you in?

      TOBIAS (Tortured)

      Oh, Agnes! Please!

      AGNES

      “Don’t leave me then, like that. Not again, Tobias. Please? I can take care of it: we won’t have another child, but please don’t … leave me like that.” Such … silent … sad, disgusted … love.

      TOBIAS (Mumbled, inaudible)

      I didn’t want you to have to.

      AGNES

      Sir?

      TOBIAS (Numb)

      I didn’t want you to have to … you know.

      AGNES (Laughs in spite of herself)

      Oh, that was thoughtful of you! Like a pair of adolescents in a rented room, or in the family car. Doubtless you hated it as much as I.

      TOBIAS (Softly)

      Yes.

      AGNES

      But wouldn’t let me help you.

      TOBIAS (Ibid.)

      No.

      AGNES (Irony)

      Which is why you took to your own sweet room instead.

      TOBIAS (Ibid.)

      Yes.

      AGNES

      The theory being pat: that a half a loaf is worse than none. That you are racked with guilt—stupidly!—and I must suffer for it.

      TOBIAS (Ibid.)

      Yes?

      AGNES (Quietly; sadly)

      Well, it was your decision, was it not?

      TOBIAS (Ibid.)

      Yes.

      AGNES

      And I have made the best of it. Have lived with it. Have I not?

      TOBIAS (Pause; a plea)

      What are we going to do? About everything?

      AGNES (Quietly; sadly; cruelly)

      Whatever
    you like. Naturally.

      (Silence. CLAIRE enters, she, too, in a dressing gown)

      CLAIRE

      (Judges the situation for a moment)

      Morning, kids.

      AGNES

      (To TOBIAS, in reference to CLAIRE)

      All I can do, my dear, is run it for you … and forecast.

      TOBIAS (Glum)

      Good morning, Claire.

      AGNES

      Julia is in the kitchen making coffee, Claire.

      CLAIRE

      Which means, I guess, I go watch Julia grind the beans and drip the water, hunh?

      (Exiting)

      I tell ya, she’s a real pioneer, that girl: coffee pot in one hand, pistol in t’other.

      (Exits)

      AGNES (Small smile)

      Claire is a comfort in the early hours … I have been told.

      TOBIAS (A dare)

      Yes?

      AGNES

      (Pretending not to notice his tone)

      That is what I have been told.

      TOBIAS (Blurts it out)

      Shall I ask them to leave?

      AGNES (Tiny pause)

      Who?

      TOBIAS (Defiant)

      Harry and Edna?

      AGNES (Tiny laugh)

      Oh. For a moment I thought you meant Julia and Claire.

      TOBIAS (Glum)

      No. Harry and Edna. Shall I throw them out?

      AGNES (Restatement of a fact)

      Harry is your very best friend in the whole …

      TOBIAS (Impatient)

      Yes, and Edna is yours. Well?

      AGNES

      You’ll have to live with it either way: do or don’t.

      TOBIAS (Anger rising)

      Yes? Well, then, why don’t I throw Julia and Claire out instead? Or better yet, why don’t I throw the whole bunch out!?

      AGNES

      Or get rid of me! That would be easier: rid yourself of the harridan. Then you can run your mission and take out sainthood papers.

      TOBIAS (Clenched teeth)

      I think you’re stating an opinion, a preference.

      AGNES

      But if you do get rid of me … you’ll no longer have your life the way you want it.

      TOBIAS (Puzzled)

      But that’s not my … that’s not all the choice I’ve got, is it?

      AGNES

      I don’t care very much what choice you’ve got, my darling, but I am concerned with what choice you make.

      (JULIA and CLAIRE enter; JULIA carries a tray with coffee pot, cups, sugar, cream; CLAIRE carries a tray with four glasses of orange juice)

      Ah, here are the helpmeets, what would we do without them.

      JULIA (Brisk, efficient)

      The coffee is instant, I’m afraid; I couldn’t find a bean: Those folk must lock them up before they go to bed.

      (Finds no place to put her tray down)

      Come on, Pop; let’s clear away a little of the debris, hunh?

      TOBIAS

      P-Pop?

      AGNES (Begins clearing)

      It’s true: we cannot drink our coffee amidst a sea of last night’s glasses. Tobias, do be a help.

      (TOBIAS rises, takes glasses to the sideboard, as AGNES moves some to another table)

      CLAIRE (Cheerful)

      And I didn’t have to do a thing; thank God for pre-squeezed orange juice.

      JULIA (Setting the tray down)

      There; now that’s much better, isn’t it?

      TOBIAS (In a fog)

      Whatever you say, Julie.

      (JULIA pours, knows what people put in)

      CLAIRE

      Now, I’ll play waiter. Sis?

      AGNES

      Thank you, Claire.

      CLAIRE

      Little Julie?

      JULIA

      Just put it down beside me, Claire. I’m pouring, you can see.

      CLAIRE

      (Looks at her a moment, does not, offers a glass to TOBIAS)

      Pop?

      TOBIAS (Bewildered, apprehensive)

      Thank you, Claire.

      CLAIRE

      (Puts JULIA’s glass on the mantel)

      Yours is here, daughter, when you’ve done with playing early-morning hostess.

      JULIA

      (Intently pouring; does not rise to the bait)

      Thank you, Claire.

      CLAIRE

      Now; one for little Claire.

      JULIA (Still pouring; no expression)

      Why don’t you have some vodka in it, Claire? To start the Sunday off?

      AGNES (Pleased chuckle)

      Julia!

      TOBIAS (Reproving)

      Please, Julie!

      JULIA (Looks up at him; cold)

      Did I say something wrong, Father?

      CLAIRE

      Vodka? Sunday? Ten to eight? Why not!

      TOBIAS

      (Quietly, as she moves to the sideboard)

      You don’t have to, Claire.

      JULIA (Dropping sugar in a cup)

      Let her do what she wants.

      CLAIRE (Pouring vodka into her glass)

      Yes I do, Tobias; the rules of the guestbook—be polite. We have our friends and guests for patterns, don’t we?—known quantities. The drunks stay drunk; the Catholics go to Mass, the bounders bound. We can’t have changes—throws the balance off.

      JULIA (Ibid.)

      Besides; you like to drink.

      CLAIRE

      Besides, I like to drink. Just think, Tobias, what would happen if the patterns changed: you wouldn’t know where you stood, and the world would be full of strangers; that would never do.

      JULIA (Not very friendly)

      Bring me my orange juice, will you please.

      CLAIRE (Getting it for her)

      Oooh, Julia’s back for a spell, I think—settling in.

      JULIA (Handing TOBIAS his coffee)

      Father?

      TOBIAS (Embarrassed)

      Thank you, Julia.

      JULIA

      Mother?

      AGNES (Comfortable)

      Thank you, darling.

      JULIA

      Yours is here, Claire; on the tray.

      CLAIRE

      (Considers a moment, looks at JULIA’s orange juice, still in one of her hands, calmly pours it on the rug)

      Your juice is here, Julia, when you want it.

      AGNES (Furious)

      CLAIRE!

      TOBIAS (Mild reproach)

      For God’s sake, Claire.

      JULIA

      (Looks at the mess on the rug; shrugs)

      Well, why not. Nothing changes.

      CLAIRE

      Besides, our friends upstairs don’t like the room; they’ll want some alterations.

      (CLAIRE sits down)

      TOBIAS

      (Lurches to his feet; stands, legs apart)

      Now! All of you! Sit down! Shut up. I want to talk to you.

      JULIA

      Did I give you sugar, Mother?

      TOBIAS

      BE QUIET, JULIA!

      AGNES

      Shhh, my darling, yes, you did.

      TOBIAS

      I want to talk to you.

      (Silence)

      CLAIRE

      (Slightly mocking encouragement)

      Well, go on, Tobias.

      TOBIAS (A plea)

      You, too, Claire? Please.

      (Silence. The women stir their coffee or look at him, or at the floor. They seem like children about to be lectured, unwilling, and dangerous, but, for the moment, behaved)

      Now.

      (Pause)

      Now, something happened here last night, and I don’t mean Julia’s hysterics with the gun—be quiet, Julia!— though I do mean that, in part. I mean …

      (Deep sigh)

      … Harry and Edna … coming here …

      (JULIA snorts)

      Yes? Did you want to say something, Julia? No? I came down here and I sat, all night—hours—and I did something rather rare for this family: I thought about something. …

      AGNES (Mild)

      I’m sor
    ry, Tobias, but that’s not fair.

      TOBIAS (Riding over)

      I thought. I sat down here and I thought about all of us … and everything. Now, Harry and Edna have come to us and … asked for help.

      JULIA

      That is not true.

      TOBIAS

      Be quiet!

      JULIA

      That is not true! They have not asked for anything!

      AGNES

      … please, Julia …

      JULIA

      They have told! They have come in here and ordered!

      CLAIRE (Toasts)

      Just like the family.

      TOBIAS

      Asked! If you’re begging and you’ve got your pride …

      JULIA

      If you’re begging, then you may not have your pride!

      AGNES (Quiet contradiction)

      I don’t think that’s true, Julia.

      CLAIRE

      Julia wouldn’t know. Ask me.

      JULIA (Adamant)

      Those people have no right!

      TOBIAS

      No right? All these years? We’ve known them since … for God’s sake, Julia, those people are our friends!

      JULIA (Hard)

      THEN TAKE THEM IN!

      (Silence)

      Take these … intruders in.

      CLAIRE (To JULIA: hard)

      Look, baby; didn’t you get the message on rights last night? Didn’t you learn about intrusion, what the score is, who belongs?

      JULIA (To TOBIAS)

      You bring these people in here, Father, and I’m leaving!

      TOBIAS (Almost daring her)

      Yes?

      JULIA

      I don’t mean coming and going, Father; I mean as family!

      TOBIAS (Frustration and rage)

      HARRY AND EDNA ARE OUR FRIENDS!!

      JULIA (Equal)

      THEY ARE INTRUDERS!!

      (Silence)

      CLAIRE (To TOBIAS, laughing)

      Crisis sure brings out the best in us, don’t it, Tobe? The family circle? Julia standing there … asserting; perpetual brat, and maybe ready to pull a Claire. And poor Claire! Not much help there either, is there? And lookit Agnes, talky Agnes, ruler of the roost, and maître d’, and licensed wife—silent. All cozy, coffee, thinking of the menu for the week, planning. Poor Tobe.

      AGNES (Calm, assured)

      Thank you, Claire; I was merely waiting—until I’d heard, and thought a little, listened to the rest of you. I thought someone should sit back. Especially me: ruler of the roost, licensed wife, midnight … nurse. And I’ve been thinking about Harry and Edna; about disease.

      TOBIAS (After a pause)

      About what?

      CLAIRE (After a swig)

      About disease.

      JULIA

      Oh, for God’s sake …

      AGNES

      About disease—or, if you like, the terror.

      CLAIRE (Chuckles softly)

      Unh, hunh.

      JULIA (Furious)

      TERROR!?

      AGNES (Unperturbed)

      Yes: the terror. Or the plague—they’re both the same. Edna and Harry have come to us—dear friends, our very best, though there’s a judgment to be made about that, I think—have come to us and brought the plague. Now, poor Tobias has sat up all night and wrestled with the moral problem.

     


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