The Fruitcake [A Romantic Comedy & Tragedy]

(Narrative ((story)) written for the Screen)

The Fruitcake
A Romantic Comedy & Tragedy

A Play by

Dennis L. Siluk





In English and Spanish

Poeta Laureado de San Jerónimo de Perú


Copyright © 2004 Dennis L. Siluk
The Fruitcake
(Narrative ((story)) written for the Screen)



Special thanks to:

Rosa Peñaloza and Nancy
Peñaloza for editing and translating from
The English to the Spanish




Characters and Index:

Main Characters

The Doctor: --Dr. Bash
The Nurse: --Rosario
The Roommate: --Oliver Reams
The Fiancé: --Eva Fremont
The Patient/Husband: --Lee Walters

Minor Characters

*The Mother [Eva’s parent]: --Holly
*The Father [Eva’s parent]: --Bruce

*Elsie [Lee Walters Mother]



Miscellaneous Characters


Glen and Harry [Friends of the family at the trailer park]
The Gate Keeper at the Trailer Park
The bartender
The gay man at the bar



Music: Composition and Lyric’s by D. L. Siluk [see annex at end of book]


Music: “It Was Always You” With Feeling
“The Dancer” Brite 4
“Death [departure] Easy Waltz
“The End of Day’s” Talk
“As Love Goes By”


Chapters/or Acts:

Act I In the Hospital
Act II In the Trailer Park
Act III Back at the Hospital
Act IV At the Apartment [three poetic-musical lyrics read]
Act V Before the Bar/Outside the Apartment
Act VI The Jam Bar/the Tragedy

The Annex: The Poetic-Music/Lyrics [composition in Annex]

Additional Poetry: “2nd Ave”


Annex:

Songs in lyrics:

Five songs of sheet music [available]

Notes: Fragments of Life
[About the story]


A Note on the construction: The first Act was written 3/2003, the second and third Act’s were written 4/2003; Act five written in 5/2003. The play has been written in a way to be read, similar to a screenplay one might say. The first week of July, 2003, the play was re-edited, and lightly modified, preparation for publication; reviewed for publication, and some new reconstruction for clarity sake, was made, 2/2006—3/1/06.




A Play by




The Fruit Cake


Act I


In the Hospital
[1993]



This is the “hospital” room of Lee Walters. The room [and, by observation the ward] is big, and let me add noisy –. I can’t say much for the hospital apparatus. Some of the equipment looks like tubes hanging everywhere, not sure where they go and could careless. A copy of the book, “Never-where,” is lying on the table-desk next to his bed. Lee is waiting to go home after surviving a stroke and heart attack; he had some complications with his surgery, but all seems well now; the doctor has explained to him he actually had a second heart attack, the first being two weeks prior to his second, and he didn’t know it, a minor one he assured him, compared to this most recent one, the major one that is, in which he got to the hospital in time.
He has been in the hospital for three weeks now, with bypass surgery, and had a stroke on the operating table, but again I emphasize, he made it through all these trials. You got it: --he’s getting bored, --now, for recovery, it has its own little miracles planted throughout the week. We shall get to that in a moment. He wants the doctors to release him this morning. But just a minute, against the doctor’s better judgment, that is.

Now you see when the curtain goes up, Lee Walters trying to get comfortable in his bed, stumbling with the pillows behind his back and head a bit. And Miss Fremont [let’s just refer to her as “Eva” make life easy] –standing in the doorway, shaking her head [thinking, what a dumb clucks, Lee is; we’ll get to Lee also in a moment] “Some kind of bug in your bed, Lee?” She says. He leans back hard against the back of the bed, boredom on his face, a sound coming out of his mouth, more akin to a hiss, I don’t’ think he appreciated the remark, but then he is getting acclimatized to them, or he should be by now. This situation doesn’t seem to amuse anyone that is, her comments, and his getting situated; he sinks back lower into his bed—


No response

Eva. Lee!

Still no response

Lee, relax please, it isn’t good for you to use so much effort [remarks Eva again]

Yet, there still remains silence from Lee

Ok –-(annoyed)—it’s your show, I could care less [says Eva].


Lee is a thirty-five years old male. He is a Mail Carrier that makes $35,000 dollars a year. He has no whiskers but he keeps rubbing his face as if he has a nervous impulsive reaction. He is a hyper person by nature. His mouth is open a bit, ready to say something, or can’t seem to breathe properly through his nose [one or the other]. In either case, it doesn’t help his already annoyed state of being in the hospital for so long—twenty-one days. He has finally gotten comfortable and lifts his head up to eye level with his fiancé [a light pause], focusing his attention on her face now. She seems a bit dumbfounded now that she has his attention: --lost for words one might say.


Lee. Eva! Do you have something worthwhile to say?

No response

Eva!

Still no response

Eva!

Eva [with a tired attitude]. Monkey see, monkey do, isn’t that how it is in our world?

Lee [shaking his head, indignant]. So you say [he sucks in a breath of air] did you come here to point out my faults, or what?

Eva. You can figure that out for yourself smart guy, for yourself.

Lee. I sure can [smugly]!

Eva. I was trying to find out how you were feeling and I got your old snotty remarks as usual; you’re snotty, snotty—shit.

Lee. Gee, I thought you were worried if I had a bug in my ass, I mean bed. Real concerned about my well being, how about you admitting you are part of my boredom, I’m so used to your smart remarks.

Eva. For once you’re half right, I forgot about the ‘bug’ remark. Ok, you win, now let us begin—begin, again, you know, from scratch, ok?

Lee. Oh boy, what does that mean? What am I in store for, another round of trying to fix my pillow so I don’t get annoyed with you again?

The patient in the other bed is getting an ear full


Eva [somberly]. I can’t help it if we annoy one another. We are so used to making fun of everything—we’ve forgot how to be serious. But I was crying when I heard you had a stroke on the operating table, along with your heart surgery, I really was, ask your brother. You know you were out for three days; --your left side was paralyzed—out [a slight pause]; out like having…I don’t want to talk about it. You also were having fits for twelve-hours; man o man, you are so lucky…!

Lee. Yes, I know you were crying, I remember something of that. Dr. Bash, Bush or Bean Head, I don’t know his name [a pause, he tries to get his breath], ok, Dr. Bash came last night and said I was doing great—inasmuch as I came out of this alive. But he added, and I hate to repeat it, but I will, for a while there, I was a “Fruit Cake,” for a while meaning, a few days that is. Can you imagine someone calling you a ‘…fruit cake?’ after you had a stroke?

Eva [looking straight ahead, thinking]. Well [pause], now that you say it, you were kind of one, I mean, you really were kind of a ‘fruit cake’ [Lee looking annoyed at Eva]. Can’t do much about that, can we now—but I suppose it would bother me somewhat, I think. On one hand you were a fruit cake, or out of it, you were having those fits you know, or what do you call those things, you know, makes the body jumppp…all over the place, whatever they were, it wasn’t good. We all thought you would not recover, they [the doctors] were going to put you into a coma state because you had 12-hours of these tantrums; your brother was here, and—and he had a hard time with it as did your mother, she was here everyday, I mean everyday, I think she would have died if you would have; --I’ve seen a few tears in your brothers eyes, but you fooled everyone, and recovered in three days. Everyone says you’re the miracle of the ward. And so maybe you were a fruitcake, for awhile, but on the other hand, you are not anymore.

Lee [his crabbiness showing]. See, you never take my side, even when I’m sick. Well [pause; a moment to think], …what if I get another stroke, and remain a forever, fruitcake, are you going to take care of this fruitcake, or throw it in the garbage can? Maybe even leave the fruitcake dry up to nothingness!

Eva. That really hurts me that you ask such a question, or is it a statement [?]

Lee. Well?

Eva. You heard me!


Lee is not certain what to say, and taking his time he lowers his eyes. He is beginning to realize he had asked the wrong question, and possibly the right one. And he figured the answered would be, ‘Yes, I’ll leave you.’ Both Eva and Lee are silent; she shakes her head ‘yes.’ Rosario the nurse comes in. She looks around, then shuts the curtain around him, and leaves Eva by herself standing in the doorway.


Eva. Can I be of assistance, Ms Nurse? [Lee shakes his head no to indicated to the nurse he does not want her there.]

Nurse Rosario. No thank you Miss Fremont, I just have to do a few things. [She is taking his pulse and listening to his heart. He eyes her shape up. She has a nice well-formed figure, and her skin looks a bright olive, she is all of twenty-nine years old. She is about five feet two inches tall, and she speaks slowly, but confidant.]

Your pan is empty; you have to allow yourself to have a bowel movement [she has a serious look on her face].

Lee. I know, but I can’t do it in this damn pan, or in front of someone. Not even Miss Fremont [his left eyebrow goes up in the air looking towards Eva’s way, but of course the curtains are in the way]. Let me get up and go and find a real, four-walled bathroom?

Nurse Rosario. I would have to get the doctors permission. I’ll ask him.

Nurse Rosario pulls the curtains open again; as she leaves the room she gives recognition to Miss Fremont, by way of a smile.

Nurse Rosario. Your fiancé seems to be doing just fine, if only he will have a bowel movement, I’d feel better [Eva looking all the time at her fiancé, Lee, not at Nurse Rosario].

Eva. That’s easier said than done. Yaw, he has his way of doing things doesn’t he, and they are all different than normal peoples, and they are always different than anyone else’s, that’s for sure.


The Nurse leaves the room, and Eva goes and sits on the bed, at the end of it, looks at the book, “Neverwhere.”


Eva. Where did you find this book?

Lee [with a deep sigh, and release of air]. You repeat yourself do you know that? [Eva pays no heed to the rhetorical question.] At any rate, it belongs to the old man next to me, the one sleeping, or pretending to sleep, Olivier somebody. He got it from his son I think, who got it from the author I think, it’s signed anyhow. He had read it, [he repeats himself], and he read it and gave it to me. I liked it. This guy is in some underground place in London. I mean this sewer system or something it’s really different. Not sure if he is in wonderland or the underworld or what, but I guess it’s Never-everywhere land. He’s got a girlfriend of sorts. I think I wouldn’t mind joining him.

You shook your head that you’d be leaving me should I ever get sick again. Or have a stroke.

Eva. Your stroke is still blurring your mind and vision, the book is called, ‘Neverwhere…’ and yes I did shake my head, but I’m trying to be as honest as I can.

Lee. Oh, I’d never leave you, never in a million years, especially if you were—were ill...!

Eva. So what does that all mean? …are you changing your mind now;--are you going to leave me instead, what?

Lee. No, I’m just being honest also. I wonder how the book ends. Maybe it will have the answer for me. I’ll bet the man comes back out of the sewer system, doesn’t care for his old life, and runs back to his make believe world—but you know, maybe, just maybe, there’s another side to this.

Eva. What’s your answer?

Lee. What to do about you leaving me if I get a stroke again [Eva tightened her face] that’s my question to myself—no answer yet.

Eva. I’ve been here everyday Lee; actually, every night and day. Now I need to be with my kids for a while, they do not care for me spending so much time away from them [the kids being 12 and 15 years old, and not Lee’s kids, Eva’s. He has been dating Eva for three years].

Lee. Yes, I figured they’d come up sooner or later, your kids that are. You know the younger one said she’d want to give me a heart attack if she could figure out how to do it, maybe you’d helped it along, -- and she doesn’t want me to marry you— you know?

Eva. Yes, I remember her saying that, I’m the one that told you that, now that I think of it.

Lee. How bizarre; someone else’s kids, that is, trying to raise them, and love them, is a thankless job, you can’t win. You get it from the kids, from the ex-husband, and from your girlfriend. Can you hand me my book please [she picks it up and hands it to him]? I liked the Marquis in the book. It is another world unto itself.

Eva. Will you please get your mind off the book? I am here to visit you.

Lee. Well, to be quite frank, and to add to that, the honest approach thing you brought to my attention, I’d just as soon be alone now, and you go home and visit your kids and I’ll read my book [Eva looks mortified].


Eva not knowing what to do or say stands up from the bed and walks over to the curtain by the window; --the old man in the other bed overhears the conversation they are having—and he catches her eyes as she turns to look out the window, putting her hands on the sill. She gives him a smirk.


Eva. Your friend is awake, Lee.

Lee. Hello Oliver, have a good sleep?

Oliver. Yew, real good [Oliver had heart surgery also, and is a 72-year old man, or is it 78? I think he told one-person one thing and another person another age].

Lee. Did we wake you up?

Oliver. Not sure, but I’m getting real hungry.

Eva. I see you put the book down for Oliver.

Lee. That’s my fiancée –E- Eva.

Eva. Hello Oliver, I can’t imagine what you two have in common.

Lee [talking to Eva]. I thought you were leaving, Eva?

Eva [answering Lee]. I never said that, you just decided to read, but I guess it is my company you are annoyed with. I’m sorry: --I’ll have to go and visit the kids; you’re supposed to be engaged to marry me, and look how you treat me…with distain.

Oliver. What does that word mean, --distain?

Lee. I think it means something distasteful, you know, something you ate and wanted to spit back out. You see Oliver, she really doesn’t want to stay here with me, or for that matter, see her little monster kids, but I’m a good distraction for her, a good reason to get away from those little brats, actually, they’re not so little now that I think about it. One’s tall and skinny, the other short and fat. I watch them for her when I visit her, or stay at her house, she’s at all these parties and teacher things to get away from all of us; I think the kids in particular. She hides from them you know. I don’t blame her for not wanting to go home. To be real candid, I should try to figure out why I’d want to be there.

Eva. Yes they do bother me, and you’re starting to get on my nerves also.

Lee. Hay… Oliver, she even told me one day she dated me because she needed someone to help pay the bills, take care of the kids, and god knows what else. But after three years she learned to love me. But I think it’s starting to have a reversing process, back to the trying to love stage, or thing…

Eva. You don’t have to tell him all our secrets.

Lee. What’s so secret about that?

Eva. I’m leaving, you two can do your fiancé bashing without me [Oliver simply looks at Lee, puts on a frown with a little disbelief, a smirk and follows it up with a smiling laugh, but nothing Eva can see or hear]

What are you two up to—something I’m sure? It seems so quiet in here.

Lee. Now what can we be up to, we’re both in bed, man oh man, are you insecure, and paranoid.


Eva waves with her hand goodbye to Lee and walks out the door. Her feelings are hurt, but not enough to cry. She feels that they both ganged up on her, even though Oliver did not say a word, or direct his dialogue to her I should say.


Oliver. It’s not going to work Lee I can assure you of that.

Lee. Why’s that, or is it so obvious?

Oliver. She doesn’t want it to plus, that is not love talking. It’s just not going to work. I was married once to this woman, and it was nothing but hell all the time. Smart this and that, and someone else’s kids. I met this woman I have now and she does everything for me. Matter-of-fact, she never cuts me down. I wish I had met her long ago. I’ve been married thirteen-years now. The previous marriage was twenty-five. The best advice I can give you is finding someone who adores you. These American women are so fickle now-a-days, they don’t know what they want, and when they get it, the desire is gone, and it’s not long before they start looking for another mate, instant gratification is what they want, and then boredom creeps in. Or I should say the majority of them. I shouldn’t generalize, I suppose. It’s so easy to get a divorce now-a-days, --matter of fact, it’s harder to get a motorcycle license than a marriage license; you know if you pick your nose wrong, it’s divorce time. Get a woman from Asia or South America as I did. She’ll love-yaw forever.


The Bathroom

Olivier [not understanding]. Is she always such a wittily sort of lady?

Lee [coolly]. She’s a piranha ready to bite twenty-four hours a day.

Nurse Rosario. Yes-SS [with her eyebrows up in the air], -----you can use the bathroom, --it’s just to the right outside the room here, it’s private; but I’ll have to be in there with you, would you—would you mind at all?

Incidentally your mother’s --Elsie, right? [Lee nods his head yes]—she was here when you were sleeping last night, you seemed a bit fogy last night. She looked as if her world was coming apart; you know she had every church in town praying for you. It was sweet when she held your hand, as if she got you back…which she did, I’m not sure what course in her life would have taken place had you not had the miracle you did have. She had white pearls on, a white blouse and a black tie. I remember everything. [Lee just gawking at the nurse as if in a daze, visualizing the moment, then smiled, saying: ‘Yes I remember that,’ he commented, ‘but so many other times I don’t remember,’ he added.]


A long pause as they both took a moment to adjust to the current situation.


Lee. Oh yaw! [Surprised.] I’ve always been a shy kind of fellow when it comes to something similar to that, sort of—sort of shy that is.

Rosario. Oh, I see…Oh, I see you have to have me by your side like it or not.


Lee [aghast]. Hm...Mm! Ok, it will be your way, or no way at all, so it looks like— it looks like!
[Lee adds to his dialogue concerning the doctor] The big man gave in, I’m shocked, and I’m allowed to use the bathroom, not this damn pan. [His heart is starting to bother him; he notices something wrong as he is getting out of bed; his balance is not steady, his head is light. Rosario quickly takes his pulse and attaches some wiring to him. His pulse has jumped to 150… Now to 180.]

Nurse Rosario. I got to see the doctor, just sit here [Lee remains on the bed hoping to use the toilet in the private bathroom. He hasn’t had a bowel movement in six days.]


As Nurse Rosario leaves the room, she is observed trying to call the doctor over
their paging him: --Oliver looks at Lee and nods his head as if to say, ‘what can you do,’ and lays back in his bed.


Oliver [to break the tension]. Boy oh boy, --Lee! Is it evergreen, I mean really green outside. May is a good month for grass—yaw…everything grows, and grows.

Lee. Yaw, I never thought I’d appreciate grass—green-grass that is, or even notice the different shades of greens within the grass; funny how we appreciate life when it is on the edge ready to disappear. But it is beautiful, from what I’ve seen of it—the grass that is. I did get to look at it a few days ago, when I was allowed to sit in a chair by my bed. Yes, you appreciate life in a different way; it is no more an item for consumption, that is, a commodity. As for mother, someday I may be standing over her, as she has done here for me praying, and she will not remember all the times I will go to see her, as I do not remember her visiting me most of the times, but I’ve been told she was here everyday, I think I’ve been here about three weeks. Things have a way of changing in time Oliver.

In comes the doctor. He notices Lee on the side of the bed, and is getting
briefed by Rosario. He seems to be unsure of the situation. In spite of this, he acts as if he’s got it under control, and tries to put on a smile, and then quickly takes his pulse, looking at Nurse Rosario.


Dr. Bash [throatily]. Well, Mr. Walters, your heart is flying, and we’ll have to do something quick about that.

Lee. Yaw, as long as you don’t make me a ‘Fruit Cake,’ and let me go use that bathroom.

Dr. Bash [staring in thought, looking toward Rosario.] Yes, I did say you could, didn’t I. Ok, [a pause—while in thought]…if you agree to have us do some electric-shock treatment on you, slow that heart beat to normal.

Lee. That sounds interesting I think, just translate that for me a little better, ‘electric-shocKK!’

Dr. Bash. It’s called electric shock, as I was saying, and it will—hopefully—trigger you heart back to a more normal rhythm, or put another way, pace, if you will. As you know, right now it is racing at close to 190-beats a minute. I want to get your heart back into regularity. For some reason it jumped out of timekeeping, I guess that’s the best way of saying it.

Lee. You always have the most choice words for serious issues Doc, do what you need to but I want to take a healthy [he looks at Rosario the nurse—a slight pause in the moment]…I need to go to the bathroom doc.

Dr. Bash [a little annoyed with Lee’s insistence, and thinking or wondering if he made the right decision to have electric shock, he moves his jaw a few times]. Rosario, take him in the bathroom and help him, I’ll get the equipment we need for the …you know [he didn’t want to scare Lee anymore than what he had already, he knew he was now nervous about the shock-treatment, and did not want him to refuse it].

Lee [darting a look at Rosario]. I’m ready; don’t need a wheel chair, just your arm please [looking at the nurse, Rosario from the corner of his eye]; adding, ‘I’m similar to my mother, she hates the cane, never utilized it, the one I brought back from the Black Hills; yes, and I hate the wheelchair’.


The doctor now is out of sight, eminently looking for the machine himself. And Rosario has brought Lee into the bathroom, and leaves the door open a bit, as Lee sits down, pulling his garment away from him, she stands by the door watching.


Lee. Rosario, Pa-Please—shut the door… please, and turns around. I can’t go if you look—looking my way, or at me.

Rosario [hesitantly]. Ok, but don’t try too hard—you know, don’t force yourself to go, it is really against policy for me to leave, I mean to turn around, it is like leaving, or taking my eyes off you, but if you’re going to insist ok, I don’t want your stitches in your chest to become undone [‘the zipper you mean,’ commented Lee].

Lee. Thanks, I’d tell you…that you’re—are, really lovely, but this is not the time or place [Rosario chuckles lightly, walks away from the door, and stands facing the wall to the side of Lee].


Lee is putting a lot of effort into having a bowel movement and Rosario hears…and is getting nervous…
she is starting to turn around, but stops. Then a second groan comes from Lee, finally the bowel movement follows [with a long sigh of relief], which is quite a lot, need I say more. Lee stops, catches his breath, and Rosario quickly, turns around.


Rosario. Are you all right? if I had my hands on you, I could tell your heart rate, by the sounds you are making, the effort that is, was way too much; I would be in trouble for allowing the stress on your heart to …to you know… it was too much, way too much. Incidentally, I said a prayer; I just hope everything is ok; I mean, first the heart than the stroke now the pulse, what’s next [?]

Lee. Listen, I feel really good, not stuffed or anything. My breathing is a little heavy, as if my lungs are too heavy for me, but the doc say’s they’re all right. Let’s go back.


Rosario takes Lee back to his bed and helps him in. Then an attache some wires to his heart to monitor his heart rate, and along side him is a graph showing his heart beats [pulse rate] per minute. Rosario walks out of the room, and Lee keeps staring at the equipment. He is thinking: is there something wrong [?] --and then stares even closer. He is almost mortified. Then Rosario comes in almost in a gallop.


Rosario [shocked, in disbelief]. Look, look, look…my prayer—it worked, it really worked, your heart rate is going down, it’s 94, no, no, it’s 86, no 71 [she hugs Lee, and Lee gives her a kiss on the side of her cheek [it’s down to 59]. Lee and the Nurse’s are thinking, it was the prayer, and the healthy dump [possibly] he had in the bathroom. God works in strange ways that’s all I can say [adds Rosario looking at Lee in astonishment].


Rosario now leaves the room, and the Doctor comes in with the machinery to give Lee his electric shock. He tests the two odd looking devices he is holding in each hand, and turns a few knobs.


Lee. What you up to doc?

Dr. Bash. Just got to test this before I use it on you; how was the bathroom scene?

Lee. Doctor!

Dr. Bash. Yes!

Lee. Look at me [the doctor stops for a moment and looks at Lee]. Now look at the device here showing my heart rate, it is normal L-L-L-L-! [He adds the L’s in there so the doctor is sure to look].

Dr. Bash. What happened, you are back to normal—: my gosh. No need for this [and he walks out of the room as if nothing happened and out of sight; as if he’s use to miracles on a daily bases; or embarrassed he was going to give electric shock to a man who didn’t need it any longer].


Lee now is thinking about Rosario and her Latin completion. She is build just right for him. Then he mumbles: ‘Mom will not be worried anymore,’ with a sigh of relief.


Oliver [smiling]. They almost got that contraption on you. Haw, how about that nurse, that Rosario is a fox isn’t she— she’d be a good catch.

Lee. She’s not a fish, but do you really think so?

Oliver [a foxy look on his face]. Yes, that’s the kind of gal you need.

[Both Oliver and Lee look out of the bay window onto the nurse’s area, and Rosario is monitoring something, most likely Lee, and catches both their eyes, and both guys turn their heads quickly.]

Oliver [carelessly, with a smirk on his face]. Damn women, can’t even spy on them without activating their cat-senses!

Lee [soothingly, with a smile]. Hm…mm…mmm! [He doesn’t say anything beyond that.]



The Curtain Falls

[The Curtain goes up]

Narrator



Anyone who was saying to themselves this was a bit one sided, in favor of the
male gender will be glad to get to the second act, and perhaps we can iron this out, when I write it that is, but for now I’m sorry, this is it. To be continued…

[A month later I wrote it—the new act.] In any case, we are now at the trailer court, it is a private park-court, and Eva’s parents have a plot of land that they keep for when they come into the city of St. Paul, to visit, therefore, they have a place all ready for them to park their little trailer home for the summer, as fall comes, and then winter they will be in Florida at another trailer court they own a plot of land also in Florida.
When they are not at either place, they are driving with their trailer all over the country. They are retired folk, and come back to the park twice a year for about two or three months, depending on/or should I say again, ‘if’ they can deal with fall or winter in Minnesota, and life’s ups and down’s, and of course if they don’t get bored. But they know a lot of people and have many “Hello’s”, and phone calls to make, along with visiting.
They are now, all standing outside by the trailer having a picnic of sorts, bratwursts are cooking, Lee is standing by his fiancé Eva looking at the food cooking, as the mother [Holly] is bringing out the food from the trailer [seemingly making more trips than what she needs to], along with plates to eat on, and silverware, putting those neatly on the table. The father is standing by the picnic table wanting to talk to Lee about his heart condition, but is lost for words…


٭

Act’s II and III completed on April 27, 2003 (reviewed 2/2006).




Act II


The Trailer Park


Lunch Time



If you look around you will see a beautiful private park with mobile homes on plots of land, sections, squares if you will, with names on mail box’s, and a gate keeper as you enter this highly and most noted park for the retired—although the plots of land are expensive, the continue monthly payments for the upkeep of the place is somewhat reasonable; for the most part, it is used for those who come to vacation in Minnesota during the Summer, and as mentioned a few times before, the owner-tenants, get the hell out of there in time to avoid the cold winters [smart people if you ask me]. These are the kind of mobile homes you hook on the back of a car and driver cross-country. Nothing stays in the park permanently except for a few shelters built for afternoon relaxation, such as outside screened in patios, which of course protects one from those infamous clusters of man eating mosquitoes, and Minnesota has its share.

There are plenty of wooded areas in the surroundings, and a medium size pool in the park, along with neighbors walking to and fro up and down the paved black-asphalt paths leading around the park, and which is also used for the cars so they can go park their trailers on their lot’s [although cars are not permitted to abuse this right of driving on the grass if need be to part their trailer; --again this privilege is just for parking and visiting [—no Sunday morning driving around].


The sun is out, and the park is sparkling clean, a few dogs running loose, chasing one another, along with squirrels, and birds singing. A picture perfect day, except Lee keeps rubbing his chest, as if it is causing him some discomfort. He has been out of the hospital for one week now, was in the hospital for about three weeks, and does not want to go back in. His heart was beating normally when he left, and all seems well and dandy.
As I said everything’s perfect, almost: Eva comments to Lee, “Isn’t it gorgeous sweetheart?” He replies, as sweet as he can, “Well, maybe, kind of, I mean, I seem to mean, yes, and no. I’m having a little pain in my chest.” Kind of a rapid heart thing again…actually it is beating reminiscent of a being under battle-combat in a war, as if I’ve been dodging rockets, around for an hour as I did in wartime, like…tick-kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk, something similar to that, a fast running clock!”

Says Eva: “Look! That’s a my parent’s old friend coming…” adding, uncouthly, “Hay Glen, Harry!” Eva is waving resembling a long lost person on a stranded island out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean; they own several apartment buildings, she tells Lee as she waves. [Harry has an umbrella in his hands.]

Harry politely waves at Eva.

Glen [sternly and abrupt]. Good afternoon Eva, where is your mother and father?

Lee [looks over slowly at them with calculating eyes, pulls Eva slightly, so he can whisper to her]. I’m not feeling well, do you got to invite them over, I mean really?

Eva [hopefully]. Sweetheart, you are just so rude sometimes, of course I have to, what would they think of me if I didn’t. [Lee doesn’t answer just gives Eva a disgusting look].

Harry [apologetically]. Sorry we had to scream it out, you know the hellos [Lee is putting on the best smile he can, but it looks more similar to a grin]

Eva [a chatter box]. This is my husband to be Lee [everyone shakes hands. Within a few seconds, everyone starts talking a mile a minute, everyone but Lee that is, and nothing is distinguishable within the conversations going on].

Lee [abstractedly rude]. Do you ever stop with that mouth Eva, put a lid on it; I’m getting a head-ach, and I’m just not feeling well.

Eva [offended]. He’s a little grouchy today, just got out of the hospital, heart attack and stroke, those kinds of things.

Glen [concerned]. Maybe we should talk to your parents later, when you folks are done visiting, you know, I had a friend with heart problems, and I guess, you just need a little quiet sometimes [Glen smiling at Lee; Lee smiling back as if to say, at least she understands].

Eva [appalled at the thought]. Oh, no, no, no, noooo…I won’t hear of such a thing. Come and see my parents. [They are now walking from the edge of the roadway, over to the trailer]


Everyone now is standing around the picnic table, Eva’s two parents, Holly and Bruce, along with their friends, Glen and Harry, and of course, Eva and Lee. Lee’s head is spinning and his chest seems to be bothering him a little more than before; --he’s feeling anxious for the most part. He rubs his chest. Then suddenly walks away from the group, and onto the asphalt-path leading toward the gate. Eva discovers Lee is on the road, about fifty-feet away; and she sees it as, he is aimlessly walking, and seemingly talking to himself.



Eva [hastily, trying to catch up with Lee]. Wait, wait, Lee, where you going? [She catches up] I can’t believe this: --you just up and walk away.

She tries to grab his hand but Lee moves it away, the gate guard now is looking at them, so Eva asks if she can feel his chest.

Eva [now moving her hand after getting permission to do her testing, by putting her hand on his chest]; --my god, Lee, your heart is beating faster than a mad-hatter, my god, faster than a train. [She can’t help it, and adds] “…but you know, that is no excuse to be so awful back there— Lee!

Lee [shaking his head]. I could be dying, I mean really dying, and you’d be concerned about etiquette. My god woman, where is your sense of reality [?]

Eva [warning emphasis]. If you continue to be like this, I will not be able to deal with you, I mean, I’ve always been a sort of—sort of domineering person I suppose, I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care how you are.

Lee [bewildered]. I didn’t say all that, that you didn’t care, and yes we have priorities, but I’m just not feeling well. As you can tell, and see, I’m very tired.

Eva [calmly]. Yes, I insist right after the picnic, I’ll take you to the hospital, and you can stay overnight and let them check you out again. Something is happening again. That heartbeat is just too damn fast.

Lee [uneasy]. Hospital, I just hate to go back, I love these sunny days; I really missed them while in the hospital. [Then in thought, he knew his mother would be devastated again to see him go back to the hospital, they had lived together 15-years, not to include the years before high school, which was another 17-years, making it 32-years out of his 55-years on earth. He tells Eva, “Let my mother know, but simply imply it is for a check up, no more.” She agrees.

Eva [looking at Lee jokingly says]. You’ll make a good medical tax right off when we get married. [Slowly Lee turns his head away from her, thinking, it’s a low sort of joke, but says nothing, only mumbles to his unconscious, ‘were not married yet’.]


A dumbfounding look befalls Lee, he really doesn’t want to return to the hospital or join the others at the picnic but he is hungry, and the hospital makes sense. As they turn back to go to the picnic, Eva’s places her hand the second time on his chest, as if to re-verify, this is for real. Then suddenly they stop just before the picnic tables, her parents watching, as if to put on a show, she confirms: ”Yes, you got to go back to the hospital, your heat beat is way to fast!” and grabs his hand and sits down to eat.


The Curtain Falls



Act III


Back at the Hospital

┼ [Note by the narrator.] Now we are back at the hospital and it is has been about 30-days after all of these prior events narrated in the first two Acts [that is from the hospital, to the park and back again] took place. Lee of course did not want me to put him back into the hospital, but he has to connect with Rosario somehow, so what a better place to brave it out. A library would have been too quiet to be quite honest, and a catastrophe for this Act. This was going to be a short act, but it has changed in the last three weeks as I have thought about it; or should I say, a stay in the hospital is really what he needs, for there is someone else waiting for him. Actually I had to go find him, and get him into the same room with Lee before he arrived.

≈

It is about 8:00 AM, and Rosario his the first nurse to have seen Lee in the morning since he arrived last night—yes, the very same one he had in the hospital before, you are not surprised of course, but she is surprisingly grateful, for being assigned to him again, to Lee that is, she marks this occurrence as not simply being coincidental of course—but, with a touch of providence, she is pondering, but we know different, I THINK. She is coming into his room doing whatever nurses do for the most part. She now goes over to the window and opens it up to let in some fresh brisk air; --Lee is already under his covers, eyeing her up, --better put, peeking—as if he was a kid—through a few covers and his pillow. He had come into the hospital in the middle of the night, as I had mentined a few sentences back.
In the background now, there is much activity going on, as people are being fed, nurses getting files, doctors checking in on patients, etc. Dr. Bash is in the background talking onto a chart, as he turns and talks to a nurse and occasionally looks at the patient.

Lee [not sure who is talking in the background, just hears voice, and more voices]. ‘I wonder when Dr. Bash is going to come in and see his Fruit Cake,’ he mumbles. [Rosario looks at him from the side of her eye, standing somewhat resembling a soldier by his bed; Dr. Bash taking notes by the doorway now; she laughs a little, Lee deciphers the laugh, and makes an embarking face.]

Rosario [taking his pulse now]. Lee, I don’t believe it—again, it is [pause—she is not checking him out, and he gets a little nervous] it is… your pulse is, that is 190 per minute. Last night the chart read, 160. My god, what is going on with that ticker in yours? [Pause—again she checks him out.] I got to see, I mean, talk to the doctor [Bash had just walked out and is talking to another nurse about another patient].

Lee [untidily]. That’s why I’m here again, because of the old ticker; it’s just not ticking according to the timetable Doc Bash has put together.

Now Lee looks about the room, trying to open his eyes wider.

Lee [surprised]. Oliver, is that you under the covers, you still here?

Oliver [slowly unraveling the covers, and annoyed]. Can’t let an old geezer like me just simply sleep—haw-aw! You had to wake me up. Well since you did, you still going with that— that chatter box of a girlfriend? [Oliver giggling.]

Lee. Yeah, what’s so funny? What’s so amusing? I thought we were friends, Oliver?

Oliver. I guess so…Hm. Sorry, glad to have you back.

The Voice. (It’s a nurse in the office area) Doctor! Where’s doctor Bash?

Lee [after a thoughtful pause]. I see you’re in good spirits Oliver, as rude as ever though.

Oliver. I said I’m sorry, what do you want blood. You look well, evidently you’re not though, otherwise you’d not be back here, and that’s for sure.

Rosario [wildly]. The doctor— he’s, he’s coming, and the doctor is coming, be here in a minute [she overheard Oliver talk about Eva] how’s Eva doing Lee?

Lee [moans]. It’s just not working [he shakes his head, repeats] not—just not working.

Rosario. Not working, well, I guess it’s too bad, but you’ll get over it.

Lee. What?

Rosario. Not working, that’s what you said [silently they both stare at one another], so what’s going to happen now? [In comes the doctor.]

Doctor Bash [taking Lee’s pulse]. How you feeling Mr. Walters?

Lee. Next to what? Next to terrible? Or next to almost terrible? I mean I’m depressed, sick, heart attack material, heart fluttering issues: heart beating akin to a race horse—p-p-p- problems; what more can I say. If I knew medical terms I could go on forever. I don’t feel well, I feel racy, if that is what you’re asking. [The doctor’s eyebrows skyrocket upward, as if to say ‘…slow it down’.]

Doctor [emphatically]. That you are, racy that is… you need a stronger tranquilizer until we can get that heart cadence back to normal again.

Lee [saying to the doctor again]. I feel as if buzzards are flying above my head waiting for me to crook, die, disincarnate, as if the ocean with all its sharks is gathering around me.

Doctor [saying to Lee in a witheringly way]. If you don’t calm down we’ll have to give you a shot to put you to sleep, your heart can’t take all that witticism, nor can I take it, matter-of-fact, I’ll have to give you some tranquilizing medication soon, if you don’t slow down and rest your mouth and heart, and to be frank, I’ll have to take some myself [the doctor walks out of the room again].

Doctor Bash [to Nurse Rosario]. I think my patient needs a stronger tranquilizer, --give it to him right away [he hands Rosario a small pill]. Adds to his dialogue, “…if he needs something stronger, let me know?”

Lee [taking the pill from Rosario who is smiling]. Can’t resist Rosario can I, [?] he is looking at Oliver when he says that, but Rosario is looking at him.

Rosario [speaking to Lee]. Are you flirting with me, and are you serious with all those little flirts…? [Then something occurs to her—a pause] Your mother called, better tell you before I forget. I told her you were doing fine, and the doctor was looking in on you. It is best you call her as soon as you can, she’s still nervous, I could tell over the phone. She was asking many questions. [Lee assures Rosario he will call in a moment.]

Doctor Bash. Maybe all I needed to do was leave Rosario in here, save the calm-down pill for another patient. [He was standing by the doorway, making notes, and laughing lightly, and then so did Lee, Rosario and Oliver joined in on the humor by laughing.] “Laughing is good for us all I think,” commented the doctor as he walks through the doorway.

Lee [after a pause of thoughtfulness and talking to Rosario whom is by his side by the bed now]. Rosario—Rosario, I’d like you to marry me?


A stone silence fills the room. Rosario’s eyes opened up as wide as an owls, her mouth sinks with her chin, as if she’s about to bite someone, but as it is she lets more air into accommodate the unbelievable statement she just heard (perhaps to suck it to her stomach, incase she panics),--she hesitates, woops, it was a question, woops, a statement-question possibly, the air that circled Lee’s bed now is num.


No answer, everyone still in shock, disbelief…

Rosario [with tearful eyes]. If you love me!

Lee [thinking, as Oliver is stunned in his bed looking as if a shark had just eaten a whale]; --if I love you. [Oliver is mumbling something: ‘…this is just too simple to be true’]

Rosario. Yes, if you love me.

Lee [thinking, I must love her if I asked her to marry me]. Yes— yes, I love you.

Rosario. Ok.

Lee [a bit puzzled]. Ok what?

Rosario. Ok, I’ll marry you, if you love me.

Lee. Oh…ohoooooooooooo…good when, I mean ok…but I mean we need to think about when, right?


Rosario takes Lee’s hand and they just hang onto one another for a moment, staring into each others eyes, lightly kissing one another a few times on the lips, not much, no big sloppy kissing going on here just a soft, moist, gentle kiss, what one might call, less than a normal kiss but more than a zero kiss, but more of a heavenly touch…as Rosario leans over the bed to get closer to Lee, and they touch noses [that’s it for the beginning].


Lee [his voice shaken a bit]. I wrote a poem last night Rosario: --how I felt about my recovery, although it’s kind of back and forth, that is the heart and the remembering things, the stroke has erased some of my hand skills, such as playing the guitar, but I’m getting it back. But it’s nonetheless a recover poem.


Lee pulls himself closer to the stand by the table next to his bed and reaches for a piece of paper with his poem written on it; it falls out of his hands and Rosario picks it up.


Rosario [looking at Lee]. I’ll read it, might be easier. (‘Didn’t you know I’m a poet,’ he said.) I’m sure you’re many things I’ve yet to discover [she smiles, and Lee rising from his bed with a murmur of surprise, takes in a great amount of air, and pushes it down to his stomach, and slowly releases it, it makes him calmer]; I call it:


The title that is, the Fruit-Cake Poem
By Lee Walters


I had a heart attack, and stroke—I was told
Whence, I never really knew it—
Yet I remember the loss of thought
And my body did not do, what it was told;
And I knew it.

Restless, restless the world seemed
As I lived in nightmares and fogy dreams—
People going to and fro throughout the hospital;
And through it all, my loving mother
Stood tall, brave with God’s ear.

Not much was said to me those days, unless
When spoken to; I just can’t remember how:
But I do remember now
Dark evenings, lights, my bed
and sleep, lots of sleep;
It is all that’s left of memory in me —

And so by and by a miracle came
I was spared this insidious dreadful game
Of loosing what little I had left
Within the confines of my chest
For some odd reason I cannot say—why
Except for my mother’s, brother’s
And my nurse’s sighs…
God spared me—

Then one day came the Doctor in—
To spy, to, to gather more information of why
For it was not known then, that
The one he had called the ‘Fruit-cake’
Was now whole again…
And ready for life’s new race…A-men.


The Curtain Falls




Act IV


The Apartment


Rosario and Lee got married, they are now in their own small apartment, it is mid-afternoon [and by implication], the apartment is more similar to a studio-apartment, having one large room with a roll-a-way bed [otherwise known as a Murphy Bed], and an archway to the kitchen that is a little pronounced because of its huge ceilings; -- the bathroom is beyond the kitchen, that one can only see a door to.
This is a good time to let you in on the news, Oliver, our faithful, man of dry-wit, was the best man at the wedding, which took place six-months ago. I can assure you, he was a blast, but on the other hand, I can’t really say much about the furniture in their new apartment, it is not a blast, at least to look at, it is rather simple at its finest, ordinary; I think Rosario is satisfied with this although, but Lee is a bit embarrassed. There is a radio and sofa chair by Lee, and a stand next to his right elbow; about several feet from his chair is a rocker for— [you got it] Rosario, with a tall floor lamp by her chair, woops, both Rosario and Lee have a floor lamp by their chairs. Lee is a firm believer in the old ways of life, man should have his own big chair, and lamp; --Lee is now looking at his first disability check he got from the Government, for he can no longer work because of his heart and possible future stroke along with something unknown that makes him weaker than one would expect; as time passes on, the doctors are checking him out, possible a neurological issue of sorts they say.
On the other hand, Rosario continues to work at the hospital and Oliver now their new best friend has retired, he worked in the fur trade, and then after that become obscure, and he worked at the Post Office. Rosario has walked over to Lee and he shows her the government check. As I am explaining this to you, she [Rosario] knows he cannot work anymore, and so she is thinking about going over to encourage him in his life long dream, which is to write music, and combine that with his poetry.

Rosario. Lee!

Lee. Yaw— [Rosario putting the check back into Lee’s hands] what’s up!

Rosario. Why don’t you write some music, like you’ve always wanted to, you got the time, I support it, and who knows, it could be quite enlightening? [She walks into the kitchen; she has planted the seed, now it’s ‘food for thought,’ time.]

There is no reply.

Lee! [Says Rosario.]

--Still no reply…

Lee! Are you out there?

Lee [with uncertainty]. Are you, you really serious?

Rosario [enthusiastically]. As serious as a heart attack— oops, I didn’t mean that, the wrong word. It will keep you busy, and you’re fond of music, and I adore your poetry.

Lee. Don’t scream it out it bothers me.

Rosario. Sorry—

Lee [walking into the kitchen]. I hear you baby, I like the idea—I’d be fond of it, I mean a whole, whole lot…do you think I’m good enough, I mean really, really, really good enough? I mean would you care to listen to my music if you were not married to me [pause]. Well, would you?

Rosario [absentmindedly]. Good enough for what?

Lee [increasingly annoyed]. Yaw, I’ll turn down the radio…d o w nnn…

[A pause]

Lee. I can do it, I can do it [a knock at the door]

Rosario. Well, I know that, who’s at the door? [She swiftly moves out of the kitchen to the door before Lee gets out of his sofa chair.]

She opens the door, it’s Oliver—


He is standing in the doorway [he is a colorful dresser to say the least] with yellow stocking on up to the knees. He towers over Rosario at 6-foot three inches. He has a blue satin vest on, a little wild looking; thin in the face, and long hair. His coat I’d say he looks like it is in need of a good press job, an old relic from the last war, hidden in some attic, Rosario conjures in her mind; --reminiscent of the Civil war, at least. He has a white shirt on, with a red tie, maybe not coordinating colors, but bright; --a wide belt stretching across his over lapping stomach [Rosario is thinking, think she is thinking, ‘could that belt stretch his belly button out of shape?]. He has that Oliver grin on his face, that says sarcasm may came at any moment, anytime, anywhere, anyplace, possible here, right now, the one that says here I am, for better or worse [he has a heartily kind of composure to himself].


Oliver [a big hearty smile on his face, a twinkle in his eye]. Just passing by thought I’d stop and see the two love-birds [he hands her a big sack of potatoes, twenty-pounds]; my mother always said to bring a gift when you go visiting, and my dad always said, ‘make it a surprise.’ [He starts laughing.] Got to please you both, —you know.

Rosario [bright eyed]. You haven’t been around for a month; Lee and I were wondering if you were ill. You were coming around once a week before. [Not sure if this is a question or a statement, everyone is silent for a moment.]

Oliver [answering Rosario, as Lee remained silent for a moment longer]. Don’t want to ware out my welcome, sweetie!

Lee. Haw, that’s my territory old man, only I say sweetie. [There was something in the tone of his voice for a moment, as he put his cigarette out in the ashtray next to him.]

Oliver. Well who told you to marry her, haw…haw?

Rosario. Oh-ooooooo Oliver, Lee didn’t tell me about that, so he needed some coaching, did he [Rosario looking at Lee and Oliver both humorously]

Lee [serious as usually, he is trying to change the subject]. Why—why the potatoes, I’ve never seen anyone bring potatoes over before; unbelievable.


Rosario turns around to shut the door, Lee is looking at Oliver, takes his hands and waves them—as if to say, ‘hush up’ about his coaching, and reminiscent of a zipper, he pretends to zip his lips shut. Oliver says in a whisper, “You asked for it.”


Oliver [he exclaimed laughing]. What was that? [He heard him—a pause.] Why not?

♪ The Music ♫


Lee [suspiciously, with a funny grin on his face]. I guess she’s right [a mutual glare from both of them appear].

Oliver [with quiet laughter]. Glad you didn’t end up with that humming bird, or maybe I should call her a chatter-box. Oh she was nice looking, healthy with the body parts, but talk, talk, talk, and never stop. Oh, yes, she was a talker; surely from a genetic trait way back yonder some place. Just think Lee, had you married her, you would never be able to talk; she’d be doing all the talking. What would you be doing? I’ll tell you right now what you’d be doing, standing at the courthouse getting a divorce. She would have driven you to a hotel, just to get away from her, probably divorce you quicker than making a pan-cake, and drive you to drink. Fickle, that’s what most of the women are today, unpredictable, fickle-d, and pickled; don’t know what they want these new modern women, and when they got it, are happy for a season, and then—find out it was just a joy ride they were after…

Well, you know.

Lee [scornfully]. I wish you wouldn’t bring her up, you always seem to, and it’s just not nice. She had her issues, and I married Rosario, thank God. And that is that.

Oliver. You can say that again!
Lee. What did I say…?

Oliver [with a hiss]. Issues! Yaw, that…’sssssss what they all say; issues my as...S-sssssss. [Pause.] She had an encyclopedia of issues then. Everything was an issue. I don’t know what she had, but I know what she needed, and that was a kick in the ass-sssssssss. Yes, brother, a good old kick in the ass. And that should have been done 50-years ago. Nowadays, the kids run the show, the social workers, and the parent is are on trial, and then the government says, ‘You got to watch those kids, listen to them, hug them, give them love.’ Horseshit, a good kick in the ass is love enough, and then gets on with business, that’s what I say, that’s what they need. We pay these social workers to be social, and that’s far from their mentality. A parent that is too lazy to kick his kid in the ass is too lazy to raise them.

Lee. Oliver, calm down.

Oliver. I do get carried away, don’t I? I’m glad you got Rosario, at any rate; if I don’t calm down I’ll end up back in that damn hospital, listening to everyone bellyache, and those damn kids screaming and yelling, a bunch of rug-rats; I raised mine, and they are as thankless, and useless except for one, as the day is long.

Lee. Yaw, I know you do, --get carried way that is… [Both smiling at one another, Oliver’s head is down a little, akin to a boy who has been scolded, yet knows he does what he does because he loves you, not to hurt you.]


Oliver [staring at papers on the side of Lee’s chair]. What’s all that stuff looks like music?

Rosario [proudly]. My husband is a composer of music, he writes poetry also.

Oliver [looking a bit impressed]. Say Rosario, can this guy really write that kind of stuff-♪♫ or is this ‘bull- sh…t’?


Rosario. Yes, yes, he can. His poems are his music; his lyric’s that is—music added to poems.

Oliver. People don’t talk like that, poems-music,--music-poems. Talk English to me.

Lee [critically]. Oliver, let me explain, if I can. Poetry, barring the Yale type taught crowd, who would present criticism at any turn at the good ripe age of two-days old [sarcasms, reeking from his face], music is poetry in motion. In contrast, it is a story Oliver, yes, that is what it is, and if one was to go beyond that, a novel if you will. After I’m dead and buried, listen to it a few times for about six months and then do a comparison, or analyze it [he hands Oliver a copy of his music with the lyrics] I have a few copies, as I was trying to say, don’t judge it as the Yale critic would, in one day, it has to ferment similar to wine…

Oliver [quite impressed]. Wine haw, you are definitely right there, Lee, I mean you got what it takes. You should have been doing these years ago [Rosario looks at Lee and Oliver, and nodes her head, pointing her finger at her forehead as if to say Lee has some unused smarts].


Oliver rocking in the chair, Rosario standing by the archway into the kitchen in the main room of the Studio Apartment: the sun is shining through the windows, as the shades on the windows are half up, and the curtains drawn back and wrapped with ropes. The floor is made of shinning polished and waxed wood, as are the doors, and the cabinetwork in the main room as well as the kitchen.

Oliver [critical]. If you write about me in those lyric’s I hope you do me justice. I am not… [He starts to read one of the music sheets, the lyrics] I was saying, I am not, or do not, I should say, reveal me as one of those ordinary people, you know as so many authors do. You read one novel, and then another and the characters are all the same, nothing new. No different shapes to them. If you didn’t know their names, you’d never know who they were. Our character tells a person who we are, not our names, not after the day you are born anyways.

Lee. I didn’t know you were a philosopher of sorts; yes, a profound thinker I’d say. You are well read my friend. Most people would say my mother was ordinary, as ordinary goes; but what is ordinary, maybe to some people like me it is a blessing to be ordinary, and to other people it is common to be ordinary, and still for others they hate being ordinary. What ever it is my mother’s ordinary character taught me to stand tall, be honest, work hard, and don’t let everything bother you: she believed in me. There was what I call an ordinary priority in her life: god, me and my brother and her, and beyond that, we go into second gear. Maybe she really wasn’t ordinary, maybe it is simple me that is, or wanted to be.

Oliver [with a smirk]. No, I’m not a philosopher; not really, I just know garbage from true fiction; or maybe better put garbage from historical fiction. God made everyone different, yet we put names on everyone, and that is how we are known. How about using a few good impressions to describe us with, me, in particular if you ever use me? Or let’s say just as you described your mother being ordinary. It really wasn’t a description of an ordinary person, but rather the impression I get is, she got around, new what she wanted, had direction, took from life, life and lived it. What more can we do; possibly she was a realist, and partly dreamer, like you.

Lee. How should I shape you, should I try?

Oliver. Hm…mm! You trying to [pause] — I want to read this stuff, but back to your question. I should be characterized different, that is from a different angle, like your mother, ‘simple, but multifaceted.’ Similar to your songs also; are they not all different, but complex in their own way…have their own personality [?] One is on “Death,” another on “Love,” something we all thing about; another on finding and searching for some one, something we all have experienced, all these things mold us, make and adjust our priorities, as it did for your mother and you, as it does for you and your wife, as it is doing with you and as…as I look at these music sheets, the words, notes and all, I can’t quite anticipate them, as you can not anticipate me, and whoever reads about me, that is somewhat how it should start. When I read a book, I first try to read half of the book and if I can it tell me it might be a good book; if I can’t, it is just old music being played over, I just stop playing it, or in my case reading it, if I already know the ending, why read it: a good book should not be able to let you know what the ending is going to be before you get there. The only difference being, it’s a new day. Some of these writers in Paris, Hollywood, New York, think they are writing something new. I call it ‘The Original Old Foolish Stuff…’ if I could think of a longer name for it I would. I want to be something new in your book, on each sentence, or stanza in your song, or poem, a spark that never was—that’s me. Does that make sense? Like your mother, she is someone to you that will never be again. No body will take her imprint off you. God gave you her as a gift, it was his gift…not a perfect gift, just like you, not perfect, but a gift that will open your whole being up every time you think of her.

Lee. You want me to make you into a ‘Best Seller,’ well Oliver, you are to me or us, my wife and I that is, and you already are a Best Seller. I’m not any big music writer or anything like that, but if I do write about you I will give it a good try and make you unique; you will be a hero, like my mother. I do not have many heroes, but she is one. I’m not sure what makes a hero, but I know what doesn’t make one, and that is all these foolish actors on TV that play parts and live contrary to what they’d have you believe. They no more believe in the parts they play than in the people they meet, it is all money, power and glory, they think they are something more special than other people, simply because they get an applause, how foolish can a brain be. Some play parts in wars and never were even a soldier, or for that matter Boy Scout, like a writer to be a real writer, you got to live it; like a bullfighter, or a bull watcher, you are one or the other, and of course the bullfighter can tell you the truth, and the watcher tells what he only sees, which is a half truth, but for the ‘buck,’ they’ll pretend anything, and get drunk later--and then expect the public to think of them as heroes, how about over paid whores—or puppies. When you perform in doing something you do not believe in, it is what you are, you sell yourself cheap. My wife is a hero of sorts, and so are you, a little hero to me.

Oliver [now puts a little more thought into his writing as he looks onto the music sheets]. Strange to say but I must, you’re a little inefficient, are you not old chap or should I say young man. I only see one fly in the soup…

Lee. And what is that?

Oliver [hesitantly]. You and your wife are settled, content, almost placid at times, and still quite attracted to one another, writing all this music takes time, effort, and stress—lots of stress for such a short time in writing them. You got to take it easy my friend. [Lee smiled at Oliver, his wife watching him]. Your writing is fine it is the process …


Oliver. Now let me read out loud these lyrics:


As Love goes by

C— — ♫ It was-n’t in Pa- ris, ♪ it was- n’t in Rome…. ♫ It wasn’t at the tash- ma-----hal ♪♫ I met her in Bei- jing, standing by the Em-pe-ror’s wall…♫ Her eyes were full of sky… here voice full of soul…. Her shape was like a god-dess, of mar-ble and of…. Gold…. Her in- sides like a blos-somed rose…. A blos- somed rose…. We shared our glor-ry, we shared our hearts…. ♫♪ AS LOVE GOES….. ♫ BY….. ♪  [long pause, musical] We shared our glo- ry, we shared our hearts… ♪ We nev-er missed a cue. …… ♫♪ Our love was touched by Beijing…mist… …. Our faith was crys-tal new….   Fare- well, fare- well!! We sang our song, as lovers of-ten do…. Then with a kiss… a touch and a sigh, We left the world…. We knew…. We left the world, we left the world…. Re-newed…. Then with a touch and a sigh, we left the world we knew….♫.. As love Goes by… As Love goes by, Love goes by… G E7 G F D7 G G7 Ami G  

♫

Rosario. You read well Oliver. I get a little jealous of that song; you knew we met in the hospital, not China, but for some reason he was dreaming of China [Lee looks at Rosario unprovoked]

Oliver. Why don’t you read this one on, “Death…?” Rosario we got time, I think, I know you want to go someplace though...

Rosario [proudly]. Yes, I’d like that:



Easy Waltz


Death (departure)

¾ time ♫ C— Look soft-ly back at me my friend when death dis – turbs your eyes.— ♪ I died with love and maj – es-ty I nev er thought to cry. I nev er thought to cry. — ♫♫ Man – y times I’ve looked at death sur- round-ed by life and storms.— A – wak – en from my sleep I’ve seen that death was not much more, death was not much more.— [play in flat] God calls us home— ♫ to whom He please. – He is not re – spec-tor of –men ♫ Death has its price and its re – wards the chase for God I’ve won!—
‘Tis de – parture I cry dear friend. Wife, dear lov-ers, child-ren and kin; --
the heart aches (far-well) the pain is gone. -- ♪ Speak kind-ly please. I’ve loved you all.—

♫

Rosario puts back the music-sheets onto the table by Lee, and tells him to read— “It’s your turn,” she says with a bright smile; he plays a little coy looking through his five songs he wrote, and selects “The Dancer,”:


[Note to the reader and audience, if it was a play the
Reader could be pretending to read the music,
While someone was playing and singing it.]


Brote 4

The Dancer


4/4 time  ♫ I watched her dance one eve-ning ♫ The night, the night was fare. All her spir- it danced, - danced as she twist-ed, as she twist-ed the air. — ♫ Heal to toe-- she tapped her feet—in a world her own. ----And as the mu-sic played—her style was born,--smooth and beau-tiful.-- And as she danced, tap-ping heal to toe,-- I could hear the floor,- hear the floor whisp-per dance on more.---- She danced the night a – way---- like a swan in—flight. As she danced t’ward me one could see my heart want-ing flight.--- ♫ Heal to toe she tapped her feet in a world her own.-- And as the mu-sic played- her style was born, smooth and beau-ti-ful.— Dance on, dan-cer dance on! Let the mu – sic play.-- Dance on, danc – er, dance on! Let the ar-tist sway.-- ♪Dance on! (may repeat the)

♫

Oliver. How long you have been writing?

Lee. Poetry all my life, as for the music end of it, maybe several years; some of these songs are from a while ago, before I met Rosario of course.

Oliver [with a curious tone]. Which one did you write about Rosario? [Rosario looks]

Lee [with smile and answer]. “It was always you,” a song from the heart.

Rosario [anxious]. We will have to read that one another day, we really got to go before it gets too late to window shop.






Act V




Before the Bar—
Outside the Apartment


Lee, Oliver and Rosario have walked down the two flights of wooden stairs, and out the building, and are standing outside—alongside the building, saying their goodbyes; Rosario and Lee are about to catch a taxi and head on downtown for a walk, a little shopping, and a bite to eat. Lee has his brown hat on, it is reminiscent of what the gangsters wear, or used to wear [as Rosario has told him many times before], but he likes it and kind of pushes the front down to look a bit more deviate. Rosario is quite conservative in her dress compared to both Oliver and Lee, and has a nice skirt on, and blouse tucked into her waist belt, some white socks on that go halfway up her legs, towards her knee. Her hair is combed backwards, and tied in a ponytail in the back. She is cute, and fresh looking. Lee is handsome and a little flashy, for the most part; and of course, Oliver is loud as loud can be, the colors could blind you if stared at them too long. But Lee, he finds it irresistible, the gleam, and Rosario is more, or better put merely pragmatic; --as a result, they both seem quite happy for some odd reason, I would guess, for the same reason two trees would get bored looking at one another, now put a lake or hill in front of the trees and you got company, and mystery, and a good warm difference. And on comes a long discussion, as Lee tries to get away, waiting for his cab.

Oliver [his cheeks puffed, with a little seriousness]. You folks going to have children soon, yes, no…?

Lee [leaning against the building railing in a loose posture by several cement steps leading down from the apartment-building, Rosario standing a little closer to Oliver after that statement]. Not sure where that came from old buddy, but you sure surprise me with your gobbledygook sometimes. I have no intentions of giving an absolute sacrifice to perfection. Do you not know, perfection cannot raise kids, plus I do not want anyone coming before me—with kids or little rug-rats…I’d be second in the house [jokingly].


Oliver. Rug-rats, gobbledygook, no Rosario what kind of husband do you have here. No one before him, he sounds as if he is God! [A smile and grin appear on his face.]

Rosario [with a sigh]. Will you two just stop it; every time you get together you go on for hours like this [with a high pitched voice]. Yes, yes, you Oliver and my husband, Lee eeeee…both alike, can’t you two talk about sports or something, --everyone else in this city does?

Oliver [acting dumb with a few waves of his head, bobbing back and forth, with the sway of his shoulders, his voice a little shaken]. It just happens to be, your husband doesn’t know a thing about baseball, football, hockey. Not sure what sport he knows.

Lee [rising through his defeat, and defense, sort of]. I’m keen on boxing and karate.

Oliver. Now boxing I can deal with, but this karate thing, what is that, it seems more similar to a chicken fight…I mean, cockfight [a pause, Rosario looking at Oliver].

Rosario. Don’t go there, --Oliver, you like baseball, he likes karate, I like reading, and life goes on.

Oliver. Reading is not a sport.

Rosario. Now you’re on me, I can’t believe this. Where is that taxi, I hope it comes and saves us all.


The taxi just arrives on time; everyone now is saying his or her goodbyes. Rosario kisses Oliver on the cheek, and Lee shakes his hand, telling him, ‘…see yaw later, take care…’etc., as they jump into the taxi and take off.

[ten minutes later]

They are silent in the Taxi …then it stops and they both get out, and you can see them window shopping and looking about, as they stroll down the sidewalk. Then they find themselves hot, and hungry. The Jam Bar is close by, and Lee is having some trouble with his chest from the heat. Breathing is getting a little complicated for him. He is trying to suck in a little more air, trying too hard that is—too much effort Rosario feels.



The Curtain goes Down


Act VI


The Jam Bar
[The Tragedy]


[Inside/at the Jam Bar]

As Rosario and Lee walk inside of the Jam Bar, the coolness of the cross ventilation of the bar is quickly calming for Lee [along with some air-conditioning coming from somewhere, Lee is kind of looking in the air for it, up towards the ceiling]. He is catching his breath and it seems for the most part his body is cooling down. He wipes his brow, and looks about the bar to find a few chairs or stools available. There is an opening at the front of the bar, at the counter, several stools open. The bar is lightly lit, and dampness fills the air (like most dingy bars). The bar smells a bit muggy—that is to say, not refreshing at all, but nonetheless it is cool. A few people are playing pool to the left side at the end of the bar, away from Lee and Rosario. And the bar is long, made of mahogany wood, about twenty feet long. Tables to the left of them are filled, and so are the few that are at the end of the bar. They grab the first of the seven seats they see. There are about five people at the bar; --two at the end of the bar, and three by Rosario and Lee, but sitting about three seats over on the opposite side are two unusual looking people at the end of the bar (unusual to Lee and his wife that is).
٭
They both order cokes…look about as they get situated in their bar seats; -- Lee notices two men at the end of the bar to his left (these are the same two unusual looking people), one looks similar to a boxer, and the other sitting a few seats from him, looks simply plain, that is, plain as in, --he has no sense of him at all for some reason. But the one who looks similar to a boxer looks a bit hungry for something [possibly trouble, so Lee tells himself]. He is a well built Blackman with broad shoulders akin to a cement layer might have; broad and thick neck. His arms rested on the bar. His face is huge, although he I doubt he is over six-foot tall. Big fists attached to an ugly smile: is Lee’s thoughts, more in the vein of a smirk; he looks over towards Lee, as if he is interested in him, or in his wife, or maybe the guys behind Lee, but it looks more as if it was his wife he is and was looking at. Most of the bar is filled with black men of a little different character of what he is used to. Jazz is playing. The whole place is filled with smoke. Some deals were being made, dope Lee told himself. Lee started to drink his coke down quicker, inferring to Rosario, they should leave, but Rosario seemed to be fascinated with the bar, the jazz playing [not interested in the player particular, but the music, the merriment, the different culture and style of life going on in the bar].
Then a young man appeared and started talking to the boxer. As the young man looked at the Blackman, he then looked at Rosario, then both of them [spartanly].
He is about twenty-two year old, a slender tall white man of about six foot, if he had been a male-model before going to prison [and Lee is guessing at that], it would suite him well, he had that confinement look; --marble-smooth skin, --a model type, that might have been the boxer’s lover at one time, if this was fiction, Lee told himself, this is how he’d write it.

He had a thin waist, extraordinary effeminate features for a male—

Surely had he put make up on, and a dress, combed out his hair, he could have been mistaken for a girl. He had mannerisms, composure of a feministic quality, and his looks and gestures were powerful in that area, for they provoked the boxer to not look towards the direction of Lee and his wife for the moment, a long moment [almost as if he was jealous]. His dreamy milky white eyes were cool and sexy, calm and seducing. He smoked his cigarettes with two fingers, at the end of the cigarette. He had a thin, smooth face. He was fascinating to watch, if not foolish: so thought Lee. And at times one could see he had too much makeup on.
Then the young man walked out the backdoor of the bar, and the boxer started to look at Rosario again. It was but a few minutes, and he was three seats closer, yet four seats away from Rosario and Lee. Lee whispered to Rosario, ‘I’ve seen this before, it’s trouble, and let’s go.’ But Rosario insisted she finish her coke. And now the man stood up and sat right next to Rosario. His hands were moving here and there, as if they were going to start going up her legs, yet Rosario didn’t notice them, only Lee, and if trouble started [thought Lee] no one in this bar would help. And so he quickly stood up, took his coke bottle, stepped in-between the two, and told the man to move on, that Rosario was his wife. At this point, Rosario was stunned, almost frozen in fear, if not disbelief.

The boxer [arrogantly, and assuredly]. I don’t hear the woman complaining. [Lee holding solidly onto the bottle and with his left shoulder blocking the right hand of the boxer so it would not exceed his waist.

Lee [becoming more aggressive with his tone]. I said she’s with me, and doesn’t want you Mister, so move on!

The boxer [more harshly]. I don’t move for you, if the lady wants, I’ll go.
[Rosario still in some kind of shock, or misunderstanding, that is, not knowing quite what was going on, and how she got involved with him in the first place, said nothing at first, then became awaken from her frozen state.]

Rosario. I’m with my husband, please don’t start any trouble and leave. [To Lee’s surprise, the man did step-down from the potential fight, more on a hero-kick than anything].

Rosario [to Lee]. What in the world just took place? I mean, I was just enjoying myself and…

Lee. And this dear is what happens when you don’t listen; I asked you to leave, I have been in many bars in my life, and I’ve seen it coming. You were looking at these men, and they took it that you were interested in them, or in particular, the one man. Men don’t need much to carry that feeling or perception. Men and women do not think the same. Women can be friends with men, and women to women can be friends, but very seldom can a man be a friend with a woman, and only a friend; that is to say, if he is attracted to her; matter-of-fact, it is hard for him to be a friend without sex—and that is really what we are talking about—even to a plain looking woman, and in your case, being as pretty as you are, they would go an extra mile at your smile. And black men often times pick up white women because they are easier, or so a black friend of mine once told me, and so he thought you might be on the menu. Men think because you smile at them, you want to go to bed with them, that is, the majority of men.

Rosario. I don’t believe this; you’re making this all up. You’re jealous.

Lee. No, it’s true, just start looking around again like you was doing, and we’ll end up in round two. Listen, the only difference between a male friend and a husband is usually sex, usually I say, but not always. A husband is a friend; a male friend is simply not a husband. There is one big difference though, we are sidekicks, and that makes the big difference.

Rosario [trying to smile]. Yaw sidekick, let’s get the heck out of here, and I mean NNNNNNNOww.

†

[An attack – Outside the bar]


It is over 100 F this day; Lee and Rosario have just stepped out of the bar onto the sidewalk. The sun is bright, and they both are squinting their eyes, adjusting, getting acclimated from the dark-dingy bar to the outside sunlight world.

A black gap-of time—


A sense of doom, as if he is swallowing, dryness in his mouth appears; he is trying to wet his lips with his tongue.

He braces himself—

He moves his feet apart as if to start wobbling, --thus, holding himself in a stance for a better balance, yet he tries walking farther, about thirty feet from the bar, slowly; --Rosario is looking at Lee, not quite sure what to do, but is about to grab him, the sidewalk is hot, the sun is sitting on top of their heads, although they both have hats on for protection: it is absorbing.
Lee’s heart is starting to twist, contract and squeeze [he is taking little breaths]: approximating to a snake, a python coiled around his heart; it squeezes the life out of it. A sickness is seeping into his veins, his head, his stomach, his bowels, and his ears his nose; —wooziness is overcoming him, as if he needs to go to the bathroom, but can’t go; as if he wants to eat but can’t digest the food. The round-shaped heart, Gods-life-organ, human pump, on the surface side of his chest seems not to be able to stop the grip of the snake, it just will not let go…[small breaths are being taken by Lee, you can see his chest going up and down, up and down, up and down]; the snake is squeezing a little tighter, and tighter, taking his breath away for a second, then a puff of relief, then it starts robbing his air again… no full breaths now, just slow seeping air, slowly, slowly, as his chest goes up and down, up and down, as if his lungs are being filled with water, and it is almost to the top, --the top of the shell, casing, skin. His head is looking, searching for a full breath, but it can’t find it, but he is adjusting to the little puffs of air (if he could cut his throat open and get some he would, but it is not in his throat, it is in his heart). He knows his wife cannot help, unless he takes her air, but that won’t even help, not with the snake coiled around his heart squeezing.

◊

The last sounds of civilization within Lee’s brain are sounds of car wheels on the payment, the wind carrying the voices of people, a few radios from the cars can be heard as they pass by, clusters of mixed voices, yet they all seem to be going away from him with each little breath of air, half breath of air, and even less than that; --actually his focus is becoming much clearer as he penetrates Rosario’s eyes, and starts to block most everything else out.
Lee can now taste the sweat dripping on his forehead as it rolls over skin and protruding bone on his face to reach his lips, and melt into his mouth onto his tongue. It is salty at best, and it has a life to itself, as the sounds go away, the taste now has taken over and that also is evaporating into oblivion.
With all of this, his level-headedness is fading, his sense of feel is leaving him, although Rosario is holding his hand, it is as if he is numb. He has to move his fingers to sense her touch.
He is thinking now, now that all the sensory things are duller, thinking of what he left behind, if anything for Rosario, he concludes he did leave her a few songs [he is feeling as if he’s being put into a box, and everything is in a far off distance now]. He knows he got to do something before the box is closed up on all six sides. He hasn’t got a list of things he wishes he would have done, had he more time, because he done everything he ever wanted to; if there was a list, it would simply be a new one made up of things he’s added to an already fulfilled one. The movements of life are almost non-existence, and the snake is squeezing his heart harder, without mercy now. ‘I am just a name now…’ he tells himself, his character will leave in whatever essence departs a body at death in a moment now, he know this. To the world around him, like when he was born, he is just another name—his time is now; he knows somewhere in the world some on is being born at this very moment, thus he must make room for that one person. Now, now he will be impression left behind for Rosario.

◊

Rosario starts to steady him she knows something is happening and it is progressively resembling a heart attack: number three. Lee tries to smile at Rosario, catches his breath, and falls to one knee, a simple fall, his blood is still pumping. His eyebrows jump a quarter of an inch; he all of a sudden turned pale, white hair appearing: waxy face. His thoughts are no longer on tomorrow, the taxes, the bar scene, the bills, they will get paid or not, it doesn’t really matter anymore. His mind is not on much, other than this very moment in time—and what is beyond this time; he knew it would come, this day, he just never choreographed it, it is as if it was birth—it is just taking place, yet he can’t remember that either, birth, why does he have to go through this he tells himself, and Rosario. He tells himself the snake took a good squeeze that time, this last time, but not enough to keep his eyes closed forever, no not yet, he has a will, and catches a half decent breath. He will fight the snake, at least for another round: to smile at his wife once more, let her know she was a good wife, and he love her; he’s made peace with God, but perhaps it will not hurt to let him know, he’s on his way and he is now in his hands, for better or worse.
A tear is coming from Rosario’s eye, her strength is melting like his, but she got to be strong, as she lays his head softly on the ground, putting her purse behind his head as a pillow, loosening up his belt so he can breath better, putting the hat in the proper position so the sun doesn’t hit his face directly. She’s a nurse she tells herself, ‘Then why am I panicking?’ but she doesn’t wait for the answer. She feels the sidewalk, a murmur, ‘…god, it’s so hot…’ she says, then—looks at Lee, the cars—

٭
[Outside of the Bar on the sidewalk]

As Lee lays there, the heart attack is under way getting stronger by the minute, and minutes are like hours, they are if anything, the last minutes that he will have to tell her whatever he needs to, they are important minutes, ones that will stay with her for endless days, hours, seconds, he knows he’s got to say, if anything, the right things; --there on the hot cemented sidewalk; Rosario is looking for help now, seemingly, helplessly [she is almost in a horror state, she is wailing and starting to pull her hair out of her head out of frustration, ‘…where is the ambulance she is mumbling…’], a stranger nearby is writing something down [--across the street by another bar is a stranger yelling something.


Lee is looking up at the sun—Rosario close to him, he tells her he feels ‘in safe hands,’ when she is by him; the sun looks similar to a big orange ball to him. He tells her, “I have no more dreams, I have fulfilled them all”—now everything is fading, he is thinking: ‘everything was—was—was,’ as if he had never been. At this point, he is not remembering clearly, nothing clearly—but he feels secure with Rosario, comforted, clearly as the minutes go by this is all he can remember…the safe feeling, and even that is becoming a sensitivity in the distance, an notion being left behind.


Stranger [yelling at Rosario by another bar from across the street]. An ambulance is come— it’s coming, --hold on!!

Rosario [Eyes wide open, tears rolling down her cheeks, like a storm from out of a tornado. He is gasping for air, his heart is liken to someone is squeezing, twisting out the remaining liquid in a rag; --Rosario knows it hurts, but doesn’t know how much, and what to do at the moment, she’s terrified]. Oh Lee, what can I do for you, if only I knew? If you looked at Lee’s eyes, looked, deep into them, you’d know, he knew, there is nothing at this moment anyone can do. But he can’t tell her that, it would only panic her more…he knows that—


Rosario is looking at him, she can scarcely recognize the natural color of his face, the redness to his cheeks, his lips; --everything is turning pale—ever so pale, a dreadful paleness: waxy white. Her mouth opens now, as if to say ‘my god…!” has murmured in a quite way, ‘…death has its colors…’— her eyes red and wet from weeping, she is becoming exhausted from the ordeal. A person can only take so much, and this is becoming too much, and Lee see this.


Lee [whispers]. Calm down Rosario, please…you’ve been a very good wife. You’re doing it, just hold my hand, if this is it, let it be a lasting magical moment, and let’s grab the moment, as we have always done. [Lee looks around him, there are three other people in back of Rosario know, he knows he is dying, he raises his head to say something]. He says, each person is born differently, each will pass on differently [Lee adds to his dialogue, the face of him, is like, --life is moving away] Rosario [he says], death is coming near, I’m a little scared, but it is revealing more to me, stay close to me please, heck, people die everyday, don’t they [he adds this into to his talk as a rhetorical question with jest].

Silence prevails, [He rests now, lowering his head.]. In life [he adds] sometimes it’s the journey that counts not the duration that counts, little wife, I got half and half. And we were just getting to know one another. I cannot remember how it was without you, funny, this curious topic –- death.

How fresh, how calm he looks all of a sudden to Rosario, a new day would never come [she knew] for them two, but he was calm. “What bad luck,” she said they had today, and he said, “What good luck we’ve had all those previous days.” What was his calmness? What was his joy? She thought to herself, --and what is it that fills him with harmless anticipation?


[Lee doesn’t speak anymore] Rosario is screaming over his face now [changing from calm to calamity within her neurological system], telling him not to die [but he is now dead]; he is not answering her questions, she’s panicking, someone—an onlooker, says: ‘…he’s dead miss, he can’t hear you’. People are looking at her, as her body and head is going up and down, looking—looking for the ambulance.

One of the strangers standing by is a poet of sorts, one might say like Lee, and he is writing down notes, it will be a poem. On the radio tomorrow morning many will hear the evening news of the following day, the man called Lee Walters, will have died 12-minutes before he was put into the ambulance. And the poem he will write will be published in a local newspaper.

٭
2nd Avenue [A Poem]:

I saw a man die yesterday
--A man I never knew--
With all the dignity of a dog,
He died at thirty-two.

He lay face down on a sidewalk
His heart dying within His flesh:
His white skin absorbing the sun
Observers, motionless;

O! I know it’s not uncommon
For such a happening
Within a crowed asphalt city
Where people are just things

But then it hard to submit
--even with our morels and mores
A life taken so simply;
When after--the unspoken door.

The paper read: “1 man dies…32
By heart attack--Second Ave…
From…who knows where…7 P.M…
Outside ‘a bar-called Jam…”’

The motive--
It was hot that day…

٭
[A note by the author of the poem in the newspaper read: “I had stopped in the bar call Jam that day. And was walking down the street when I heard someone yelling; --I turned around and saw a woman bent over a man that was having a heart attack. I really didn’t know what to do, but stood by. The man dropped his head after saying something, fifteen-feet from me. The ambulance came but I think it was too late, he died. I did a lot of drinking myself at the bar that day, it was hot, I mean really hot, tempers in the bar was going up, up and away; people angry at nothing, anything, just angry. It was a very hot day, I know I already said that, but it was the only motive for the heart attack.”]

As Lee would have said, ‘There is nothing for certain in life, but on the other side of the coin, everything is possible.’ Oliver of course was notified of his death, as were the usual people. But the Good Lord gave him ‘One more mile,’ and who can complain about that, he never did☺


The End of the Fruit Cake

≈◊≈


The Curtain goes Down


Annex

Note: although this is the end to the play, and the story per se, there is some additional data, the two song-poems not put directly into the story. These can be read directly from the poetic-lyric’s, and/or played by a background of musicians, and sung, if desired, for of course, the enjoyment of the reader or play. The two songs not put into the play will now be written out (or can be at anytime), and the sheet music of the five –poetic-songs, will also be produced for the person who can/or wishes to read and play music [upon request]. If this is to be done as a play, the music for the five songs can be played throughout the play at the discretion of the director or producer…

٭