the voice of the prairie

The Voice

of the Prairie

A PLAY

by

John Olive

I SAMUEL

WFRENCH

FOUNDED

r830

New York Hollvwood London Toronto

SAMUELFRENCH.COM

CopyIight © 1986, 1989 byJohn Olive AIL RiGI ITS !Uj~)f~RVEJ) CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that TI IE V()f(]~ OF 771E PRAIRIE is subject to a royalty. It is fully protectcd under the copy­ right laws of the United States of America, the British Commonwealth, in­ clllding Canada, and all othcr countlies of the Copyright Union. All rights, including professional, amateUI; motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, tele\~sion and the rights of translation into for­ cign languages are strictly reserved. In its present form the play is dedicated to the reading public only. The amateur live stage performance rights to 71IE VOl( 1~ OF TI IE PRil1­ R!E' are controlled exclusively by Samuel French, Inc., and royalty arrange­ ments and licenses must be securcd well in advance of presentation. PLEASE NOTE that amateur royalty fees are set upon application in accordance with your producing circumstances. When applying for a royalty quotation and license please give us the number of performances intended, dates of pro­ duction, your seating capacity and admission fee. Royalties are payable one week before the opening peIformance of the play to Samuel French, Inc., at 45 W. 25th Street, New York, NY 10010. Royalty of the required amount must be paid whether the play is pre­ sented for Charity or gain and whether or not admission is charged. Stock royalty quoted upon application to Samuel French, Inc. For all otl1er rights than those stipulated above, apply to Susan Schulman, 454 West 44th Street, New York, r-..'Y 10036. Particular emphasis is laid on the question of amateur or professional readings, permission and terms for which must be secured in writing from Samuel French, Inc. Copying from this book in whole or in part is strictly forbidden by law, and the right of performance is not transferable. vVhenever the play is produced the follOwing notice must appear on all programs, printing and advertising for the play: "Produced by special ar~ rangement with Samuel French, Inc." Due authorship credit must be given on all programs, printing and advel~ tising for the play.

Publication of this play does not imply availability for performance. Both amateurs and professionals considering a production are strongly ad­ vised in their own interests to apply to Samuel French, Inc., for written permission before starting rehearsals, advertising, or booking a theatre. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retTieval system, 011 u'ansmitted in any form, by any means, now known or yet to be invented,] including mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, videotaPl ing, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher~

IMPORTANT BILUNG AND CREDIT REQUIREMENTS

All producers of THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE must give credit to the Author of the Play in all programs distributed in con­ nection with performances of the Play, and in all instances in which the title of the Play appears for the purposes of ad­ vertising, publicizing or otherwise exploiting the Play and / or a production. The name of the Author must appear on a separate line on which no other name appears, immediately following the title and must appear in size of type not less than fifty percent of the size of the title type.

No one shall commit or authorize any act or omission by which copyright of, or the right to copyright, this play may be impaircd. No one shall make any changes in this play for the purpose of production. I Pu blication of this play does not imply availability for performance. Both amateurs and professionals considering a production are strongly ad­ vised in their own interests to apply to Samuel French, Inc., for written! permission before starting rehearsals, advertising, or booking a theatl-e.j No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmittcd in any form, by any means, now known or yet to be invented, including mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, ~deotaping, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher. ISBN 978-()..573-69076-1 Printed in U.S.A. #24047

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No one shall commit or authorize any act or omission by which the copyright of, or the right to copyright, this play may be impaired. No one shall make any changes in this play for thc purpose of production.

In ADDITION: the following billing credits must be included in all programs for bus and truck, LORT and LAAT produc­ tions: Orignially commissioned and produced apolis, Minnesota.

Artreach Minne­

Expanded version produced by Hartford Stage, Hartford,

CT

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The People of the Play POppy DAVEY LEON SCHWAB DAVID QUINN FRANKIE FRANCES REED This play is for Julie

SUSIE FRANKIE'S FATHER WATERMELON MAN JAMES JAILER

And various and assorted PASSERSBY , NEWSPAPER VENDORS, GOSSIPMONGERS, SCHOOLCHIL­ DREN and other offstage VOICES. NOTE: although originally written to be played by three actors (two men, one woman) the play has been done successfully by six performers (four men, two women). THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE was commissioned by Artreach, a Minneapolis-based professional touring company. The play was produced and toured around the midwest in the fall of 1986. The production was pro­ duced by Julia C. Buzard and directed by Steven Dietz. Costumes were by Lori Sullivan, lights and sets were by Michael Murnane and the production was stage man­ aged by Kris Nelson. In the Artreach production: James J. Lawless played: Actor 1, Poppy, David Quinn, Frankie's Father, Newsstand Vendor, the Wa­ termelon Man and other offstage characters and VOIces. Kevin Kling played: Actor 2, Davey, Leon Schwab, James, the Jailer, and various and miscellaneous characters.

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Leslie Rapp played: Actor 3, Frankie, Susie, Frances Reed and other assorted offstage characters and voices. THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE was written to be played on a mostly bare stage with a highly portable set. The Artreach production utilized a wall unit made of wooden slats which was placed directly upstage. En­ trances and exits were made around the sides of the unit and also through a door in the middle. The performers were onstage and visible at all times; at the ends of scenes, the actor simply left the main playing area and stepped behind the wall unit where he/she prepared for the next entrance. All sound effects were live, created by the actors behind the wall unit. This created a rough­ hewn theatricality which worked very nicely.

play was presented with a cast of six performers. In the Hartford Stage Co. production: Michael Countryman played: Poppy, David Quinn. Knowl Johnson played: Davey, and various school­ children and other offstage voices. David Schramm Played: Leon Schwab. Alice Haining played: Frankie, and offstage voices. Barry Cullison played: Newspaper Vendor, Frankie's Father, James Watermelon Man, Jailer, others. Brenda Currin played: Susie, Frances.

Subsequent productions ofthe play, while they have for the most part used three actors, have tended to be more "produced," relying on taped music and sound effects, heightened lighting, and more detailed settings. (A sam­ ple fioorplan ofsuch a production, at the Wisdom Bridge Theatre in Chicago, designed by Michael Philippi, is included in this edition of the play) Costume changes in these productions-as well as character transformations- for the most part take place offstage. These productions have also worked very well. There is a wonderful "performance theatricality" created when three actors play twenty plus characters in the course of an evenmg.

Hartford Stage is a large "mainstage" kind of space (es­ pecially in comparison to the other theaters in which the play's been done) and the larger cast gave the play the size it needed to fill the theater. The larger company made it possible to match actors more closely to the age of the characters they played. This gave the production stronger emotional resonance. I've found that a three actor version has a stronger performance theatricality and a lot of exciting narrative energy, as the audience is always having to figure who the actors are playing at any given moment. The six actor version has more size, more resonance, more emotional truth and vitality. Potential producers should decide for themselves, based on the size oftheir playing space, their audiences, and their own personal preferences. The play could even be done with more than six actors.

However, the play has been very successfully produced with more than three actors. At the Hartford Stage Com­ pany, in a production directed by Norman Rene, the

The text for both the three and six actor versions is es­ sentially the same. I've added some stage directions indi­ cating staging possibilities when more than the three

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actors are used. The final scene, however, is written dif­ ferently. I've added an appendix which contains a slightly different version of the scene, to be used when more than three actors are performing the play.

The Place ofthe Play Various locales in the United States of America: the backroom ofa hardware store, a farm, a cliff, a backyard, a street, an expensive suite at Kansas City's Muellbach Hotel, a parlor, a train platform, a jail cell, a shed, etc.

The Time ofthe Play The play takes place in 1895 and in 1923, jumping back and forth.

The Voice of the Prairie ACT I

(MUSIC: bright and uptempo. ACTORS 1,2, and 3 enter) ACTOR 1. 1895. ACTOR 2. The sharp rocks, the sea blue like steel. ACTOR 3. I tell you, you can feel the Lord's breath in his blood. ACTOR 1. You gotta remember how I'm deaf. ACTOR 2. Poppy was a strange man. ACTOR 3. God bless all here.

(ACTOR 3 exits. LIGHTS roll. A tavern. POPPY, an old Irishman, and DAVEY, his young grandson, look around the place, smiling expectantly. DA VEY's ex­ cited, barely able to contain himself) POPPY. (In a booming Irish brogue) God bless all here! (DAVEY giggles-it's a weird, high-pitched laugh. HE sits, watching POPPY, rocking back andforth, swinging his legs, laughing softly. POppytakes out a pipe, scrapes a Lucifer match across the stage, lights the pipe andpuffs on it, getting it going. Clouds of blue pipe­ smoke. A storyteller) Well now. I knew of a man one time, and he was every bit of seventy years old when he decided to part from single bliss. He didn't have the sense when he was young, and he was too old when he got the courage. Like a lot more of us. Now. You'll be askin', and well you might, what would a man, seventy years old, be wantin' with a young wife? (Pauses, puffing his 9

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pipe.) Well, I suppose they could say the rosary together. Heheheheh .. , (Laughs, then coughs. HE looks around the tavern, smiling.) A thirsty afternoon, is it not? (Beat. Then DA VEY laughs, again in his distinctively odd giggle. POppy reacts, almost as ifon cue.) Oh. The poor lad. Little Davey Quinn. My youngest sister's youn­ gest daughter's only boy. The bastard offspring of a vile and dishonorable British cavalry officer. Those "proper" Englishmen, they change their tune when they get to Ireland. He's deaf, the lad. (DA VEY reacts for a brief moment, then smiles, swinging his legs, as before.) It breaks my heart. But, you know, the Lord speaks to him, sure, there's Godlight in his eyes. (Beat) r d accept a glass of whisky and be happy for it, I can tell you that truly. (Looks about expectantly, then continues, disappointed.) Anyway, this man I'm telling you about, Pat Kelly. He had a little house, and he had a little land, and I suppose in a fit of drunkenness you might be tempted to call the place a farm. So. Pat decided to marry. Now you'd be hard put to find anyone to persuade you that Gloria P. Linsky was any sort ofbathing beauty. For it wasn't true. She'd a laugh like an ass's bray and a face as ugly as a plateful of mortal sins. (To someone in the audience:) Oh, madam! you've a laugh as clear and lovely as snow water dancing through gold nuggets. Surely you'll buy an old storyteller a glass ofwhisky. Ah, God love ya. Davey! Davey! (DAVEY doesn't move.) Oh. (POppy whacks on the back ofhis head. DA VEY leaps up. POppy points, speaking deliberately.) Whis-ky! (DA VEY runs off) The poor lad. Madam, you're a rose-cheeked vision of beauty. No! It's not true! You're telling me a filthy lie. It can't be rouge! (DA VEY brings POppy a glass of whisky.) Together, madam, you and I could create leg­ ends. (Knocks back the whisky. then sits. going on with

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the story) Like a lot more of us, Pat suffered from the damp and the rheum and the creakin' in the bones. It's a cursed affliction, I can tell you. And Pat, fancyin' himself a spry aul fella, his weddin' night fast approachin', well, he began castin' about for a cure. Says Laherty, "Have you never been bathing in the sea water, Pat? All them salts and minerals, it's a grand tonic. There's English people as travels miles and pays a ransom, just for a dip in it. Oh, sure, it's a grand tonic for everything. So. Pat fixed up his cart. And he found his ass. And offhe went. Now, the place where we were living was about forty miles from the sea. And you could count on the toes of one foot all the people from our town who'd ever seen the damn thing. Pat arrived in the evening. The red sky, the sharp rocks, the white foam dancing and hissing like snakes, the sea blue like steeL Oh, God! How I miss Ireland. (Beat) There, sitting on the seawall was a fisher­ man. From Kerry. They eat salt for breakfast, those Ker­ rymen. "Is that the sea?", says Pay, "'Tis," says the fish­ erman. "Tell me," says Pat, "And tell me no more: what would you charge me for a barrel of it?" "Ten shillings," says the fisherman, thinking to himself, my God, they're biting on dry land today. "I'll take two," says Pat, and off home he went. WelL Came the big night. We were all there, and all the poteen for miles around. Pat set the barrels up in front of a big roaring fire, with a blanket hung up, too. He was a very modest man, was Pat. And ugly. He started in to leaping like a lunatic from one barrel to another, splashing about like a seal. He very nearly ruined all his marriage plans with one leap he made. Well, he was cured. So he went back to the sea, for a further supply. And there, sitting by the seawall, was the same fisherman. Waiting for him. Pat looks out to sea. The tide was out that day. Says Pat, "It must be in

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great demand! 'Tis nearly all gone!" (POppy stands, immediately. DA VEY works the audience, hat in hand, smiling winningly) A nickel for the storyteller! Eh? A coin for poor Davey? Let him touch you. I tell you, you can feel the Lord's breath in his blood. He's blind, the poor ladDAVEY. Poppy, no. POPPY. -blind as a bat. A drunken British sailor­ DAVEY. Poppy! (Whacks POppy with his hat, then points to his ears) Deaf.

(Beat. POppy draws himse/fup with as much dignity as he can muster. DA VEY stands by him, protectively.) POPPY. Come along, Davey. Let us not debase our­ selves with these pagans any further. Give me your arm.

(LIGHTS roll. Night. A clearing in the woods. DA VEY helps POppy sit, by a campfire. The FIRE glows. Weird orange shadows dance on their faces. DA VEY puts a blanket around Poppy's shoulders. POppy shivers) DAVEY. You gotta remember how I'm deaf, Poppy.

POPPY. Whisky.

DAVEY. Hm?

POPPY. Whisky.

DAVEY. There's no whisky.

POPPY. There's a quarter bottle.

DAVEY. No. (POppy shivers again.) Cold, eh? For

August. We'll make the river tomorrow. Hey, Poppy. Rivers are ... ? Cmon. Rivers are ... ? POPPY. God's blood flowing through the earth. (DA VEY laughs again, in his weird high-pitched giggle,

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rocking back and forth.) Some day, lad, some citizen'll hear you laughing like that and they'll hear Satan in it, hear him- (Voice rising, with a crazy edge in it)­ cackling like a dying rooster, and then they'll send you off to some house of bedlam! DAVEY. Poppy. Lie down. Sleep. Listen to the fire. (DA VEY takes POppy gently by the shoulders and lays him down, tucking the blanket in. LIGHTS roll. Fading) Fried chicken. White gravy all over potatoes with little black things in it. Onions baked in the fire. Go to sleep, Poppy. Catfish boiled in beer. (DARKNESS) Berries and cream, and butter allover my face. Green apple pie oozing with caramel and cinnamon. Ham and redeye gravy. (LIGHTS up. ACTORS 2 and 3 enter.) ACTOR 3. 1923! The magic of ether.

ACTOR 2. The future. I don't know what to say.

ACTOR 3. Miss Emily loves you. (Exuent. LIGHTS

roll. The backroom of a hardware store. LEON SCHWAB enters. HE's a 1920's era dandy-loud suit, gaudy tie, etc. He's a hustler, hyperkinetic, corrupt. HE puts a stack ofrecords down on a table. The table also holds a large, old-fashioned radio microphone. It's round, crude-looking and huge, big enough to cover the face ofanyone speaking into it. There's also an old-fash­ ioned Victrola record player. Also a pint bottle ofwhisky. LEON tries a switch on the microphone. HEfrowns.) LEON. (Brooklyn accent) Hello! This is Leon Schwa-Damn it. (Goes downstage to a Window) Hey, Dwight! Sorry. Duane. I have trouble telling you two apart. Tell you what. I think I'll sew a big D on each a

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE your shirts. Never mind. Look, crank it up. Pull the white cord. Not that! God almighty. The cord. Yeah. Harder! Harder! Harder! Yeah! Good. Now. Yank the switch on the transformer. Careful, don't touch anything else, or you'll get a-(SFX: a loud electronic POP, from offstage) Y'okay? Ouch, eh? Is it making a noise? Good. (Goes back to the microphone table. HE's getting ner­ vous, expect'ant. HE takes a swig ofwhisky, then hits the microphone switch, speaking into it again, loudly) Hello! This is Leon Schwa . . . (Still not working. LEON's annoyed. Crosses back to the window) Duane! Sorry. Dwight. Where'd Duane go? Never mind. Look, is the transformer making a nice humming sound? You know, a . . . humming sound? Never mind, just try the white switch on the amplifier. Yeah, right there, you got it. (SFX: the static electronic POP, from offstage, as before) Y'okay? Good, Here we go. (Takes a pull from the bottle, takes out a watch, looks at it) Late. Probably he's not even coming. Who cares, let'sjust get going. (Sits infront ofthe microphone. Takes a deep breath. Quite nervous) Okay. Speaking English. Let's go. (Hits the switch. LEON speaks in a loud, tense voice, trying to affect a downhome sort ofsyntax, but it doesn't really take: HE's too nervous, too much of a New Yorker.) Hello! This is Leon Schwab! The voice a the prairie, the wave a the future, right in your very own parlor, coming to you thanks to the magic of the ether and the genius of man­ kind! Isn't this fun!? Phillips and Zenith radio sets now available at Morris Hardware! (An obvious rhyme) Get 'em while they last, they're goin' real fast. (Laughs. It's forced, but HE is starting to get warmed up.) We'll be here tonight, making music and talking talk until the stars come out and the cows come home. So turn your

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radio on!!! (Cranks up the Victrola, gets it spinning, then starts a record. MUSIC: scratchy 1920's era hillbilly, uptempo and twangy. LEON takes a deep calming breath. And a swig of whisky. HE stands, goes to the window.) Hey, Dwight and Duane! (Laughs) You guys slay me. How old're you two? Really? You married? I mean, to women? Yeah, well, I guess there aren't that many single twin sisters in the SandhiUs, eh? Right. Lis­ ten. I'm on· the air, so-It means I'm broadcasting, Yeah. So don't let anybody touch the equipment. Bad things could happen, somebody touches that stuff. They could die. Seriously, Yeah. And if that Quinn character shows up, send him right in. (SFX: the needle jumps across the the record, SCREECHING. LEON dashes to the table.) Damn! I mean- (Into the microphone, smoothly) Dang. If this ain't the finest country in the world. Ain't nobody can't get rich. All's you need's a little luck, and, hey, I'm your luck! That's right, folks, 'cause I'm here to give you the news about Miss Emily. Miss Emily has the Power. Should I invest in stocks? Which ones will make me rich? Ask Miss Emily. The August rains gonna come? Ask Miss Emily. Should I say yes to Clem Perkins even though he smells funny? Ask Miss Emily. She's got the gift. I mean, I could tell you stories. (SFX' KNOCKING on the door) No two ways about it. (Dashes to the door, opens it) Cmon in, you're late. (Dashes back to the microphone) Satisfaction is guaranteed. Just send your question, along with one dol­ lar, to Miss Emily, Box 1717, Kansas City, Missouri. That's Miss Emily, Box 171, K.CM.O.

(DAVID QUINN enters. HE's afarmer; a shy, soft-spo­

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ken man, looking quite nervous, hat in hand, wearing coveralls. He looks at LEON, not sure what to do. LEON gestures: come-on-in-and-close-the-door) DAVID. (Steps into the room) Mister Schwab, 1­ LEON. (Covers the microphone with his hand) Shut up. DAVID.Oh. LEON. Remember, folks. Miss Emily loves you. God loves you. And I love you. (Gestures to DAVID: Take­ off-you-coat-and-sit down. DAVIDfrowns, confused and nervous, not sure what he means.) That's Miss Emily, Box 1717, K.C.M.O. (Another rhyme) She'd love to know what you think of the show. (Cranks up the Vic­ trola. More MUSIC: twangy hillbilly. LEON relaxes.) I hate this music. DAVID. (Apologetic) Mister Schwab, 1­ LEON. What was your name again? DAVID. David Quinn. LEON. It's easy. All you need to know DAVID. Mister Schwab, 1­ LEON. Will you shut- (Stops himself Beat. Realizes that something is wrong) Alright, what? DAVID. Well, I can't do it. LEON. (Pats him on the shoulder, trying to flatter him) Of course you can do it, you were great. You had those people at the - What was that place? DAVID. The feed store. LEON. The feed store, right. You had 'em in the palm of your hand. I never knew these people could actually laugh. Just do itrhere. DAVID.: I dDn't know how I did it there. I never do that. LEON.')fou;reIl:ervous. No problem. Look at me, I'm sonerv{)llS,.Jbave>~to chain myself in bed every night. Here. (Holds out the whisky) Get drunk.

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DAVID. (Takes a step backward) Oh. No. LEON. It's real stuff. Canadian. DAVID. No. LEON. This is your chance to make history! You'll be the first farmer in Nebraska to tell a story on the radio. DAVID. Well, I don't know what to say. LEON. (Patiently) Like yesterday, you know, that story about the old codger you used to travel around with. DAVID. Poppy. LEON. Yeah! It was a great story. (SFX: KNOCKING on the door) Damn it. Just . . . hold on. DAVID. I can't do it. LEON. The story from yesterday, I told you. Look, just sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. (DA VID sits. LEON rushes to the door.) Oh. Hey, Sheriff. Pleasure. How are you. Come on it. (LEON exits. From offstage:) I've heard a lot about you. (NOTE: in a production using more than three actors, the SHERIFF might actually appear onstage. HE should be a serious looking man, wearing a three piece suit. HE and LEON should step upstage, talking inaudi­ bly. Focus should clearly be on DAVID: DAVID sits at the table, very uncomfortable. A moment. Then the MUSIC stops. Silence. DA VID frowns. He looks at the Victrola. He nudges it with his hand. Nothing. HE clears his throat, not sure what to do.) LEON. (From offstage) Excuse me, Sheriff.!(Bursts in, runs to the microphone) Hello! We gotta special treat for you tonight, folks, we got a guy here, a lot of you know him, he's a local storyteller. Oh, he tells great stories. And he's sitting right here. (Whispers to David) What's your name again? DAVID. (Frightened) David Quinn, but I LEON. (Into the microphone) David Quinn! What's tonight's story, David? (Steps back, 'gestures at the mi­

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crophone. Beat. DA VID looks at him, panicked.) Come on. DAVID. My . . . Poppy. (LEON points at the microphone.)Oh. My- (DAVID's lips touch the microphone. SFX: an electronic CRACKLE, then a nasty sounding POP) Aaaaggghhh! (Snaps backward, holding his mouth, a wild look on hisface. LEONlaughs, genuinely amused, but in a smooth announcerly way.) LEON. (into the microphone) Ha, ha, ha. David's a funny fellow, isn't he. Ready, David? (LEON covers the microphone with his hand.) Look. I didn't have time to get the thing grounded, so you have to talk directly into the microphone. but don't touch it. (Into the micro­ phone) So here he is, everyone. David. . . . ? DAVID. Quinn. LEON. David Quinn! (Exits. NOTE: The sheriff should also exit at this point, if he is onstage. From off­ stage:) So, Sheriff. What can I do for you? (A long moment. DAVID'sfrightened,jurious at LEON, embarrassed. He looks at the microphone as though afraid ii might bite him. Finally, he leans forward and begins speaking, very tentative, in a tight, high voice, swallowing.) DAVID. My . . . Poppy was a . . . strange man. Oh, he . . . sure was. HeLEON. (Arguing; we catch only a few fragments) Li­ cense? I don't need no license, whaddaya talking about? DAVID. (Distr.acted) Sometimes, he used to dream about butterflies, then he-I mean, he thought he was a . . . butterfly. He'd say, "Who's having this dream, me or the butterfly? Am I a drunken Irishman dreaming I'm a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming I'm a . . ." Oh, boy.

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LEON. (Of!) It's a free country, the airwaves're free! DAVID. Then, the next night, it'd be snakes. He hated them. The snake dreams. But after a while, that's all he - Well, I think I might be getting ahead of myself. These days, I'm always ahead of . . . myself. Coupla times, now, I've lapped myself at the stretch. (A moment. DA VI D's out ofsteam. He stares, quite fro­ zen, at the microphone. Pause) LEON. (Offstage) Yeah, yeah, I know. Excuse me, Sheriff. (Enters. Looks at DAVID. Beat. DAVID's fro­ zen. LEON rushes to the microphone.) Hello! (DAVID reacts. started.) Back to . . . David right away, but I did wanna mention that I ran into Jack Morris, over to Morris Hardware, and it tUnIS out he just got in a line of the prettiest little Philco radio sets you ever did see, a welcome addition to any parlor arrangement. Prices'll neverbe lower. Invest in a radio now. Remember, The magic ofthe ether is the wave ofthe future! Here's David! DAVID. There's nobody out there. LEON. They're there, believe me, they're there. Now tell 'em a story; A funny story, like in the feed store. Come on. DAVID. (Into the microphone) Well, now. (LEON exits. From offstage:) LEON. Glass a the good stuff, Sheriff? Fell off a truck in Saskatchewan. DAVID. Poppy used to say, "Only dead people stay in one place." Poppy was the worst confidence man in the U.S.A. He was a legend. One time, he tried to fleece an old lady out of her-Well, he wound up-Well, we both wound up-(Beal. DAVID relaxes, visibly. He smiles.) But that's another story. (LIGHTS roll. Deeper,

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shadowy. DAVID is isolated in a spot.) What I'm think­ ing of, right now, isDAVEY (Offstage) AND DAVID. (Simultaneously) Ber.:. ries and cream, and butter allover my face. (DA VEY enters. HE sits, in the same position as in the earlier scene with POPPY. Thefire glows, shadows dancing onDAVEY's face.) DAVEY. Green apple pie oozing caramel and cinna­ mon. Ham and redeye gravy dripping on hot fresh fry­ bread. Grits and onion soup. I'd like to live inside a loaf of bread and then eat my out.

(Laughs, giggling and rocking back andforth) DAVID. I was a weird kid. Still am. Well, anyway, the fire died. Fires do. It was a no-moon night, black and it was wild with stars. And it was in the deepest part Gfthe night I heard Poppy dreaming. Moaning, rolling around, crying out in a sort oflittle girl voice, "No. No. No! Get away from me, you bitch-devil, away! Nooooo!" He was thrashing and flopping about like a dying fish. (DAVEY's weird high laughter bubbles over POPPY/ DAVID's voice. He sits up) Poppy always made me laugh, no matter what he did. Suddenly, he sat up. His eyes were hard and blue and wide open and his skin was marble white. An Irishman. DAVEY. (to "Poppy') Which one, Poppy, which one was it? Was it bad? Was it real bad? Which one? DAVID. "Snakes." Then he snarled at me. "Whisky! Get me that whisky or I'll beat you within a yard ofheU, you freak of nature!" (DA VEY laughs) Poppy always had a soft spot in his heart for me. DAVEY. (Gives Poppy whisky) Here, Poppy, here. You

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want me to tell you the dream? Okay? Maybe make it go away. Okay? DAVID. The fire was sucking air out ofthe black dirt. DAVEY. How's it start? Hey, Poppy, how's it-? DAVID. "I'm driving my wagon-" DAVEY AND DAVID. -through a forest- . DA VEY. (Takes over) Yeah, yeah!(Tells the story, with none ofPoppy's skill and assurance, but with a genuine storyteller's instinct nonetheless, rocking back andforth, excitedly) And the road's narrow, and the trees are close to the road, it's like a canyon, and the trees are so green they look wet. There's a house off to the left. The team stops. How come they're stopping? Yousee a house. Why, it looks familiar! It's the stone house you were born in, in Ulster. What's an Irish shanty doing in all these trees? "Hyup! Hyup!" The team won't move! DA VID. Hyup! Hyup! DAVEY. Then you see her. In the doorway. Who is it, Poppy, who is it? It's. . . . (In a surprisingly deep mas­ culine voice) Mother. DAVID. Mother. Poppy's eyes were as wide as wells. DAVEY. The sainted woman who raised you and beat you when you were bad. You lash at the team, but the whip's turned into a snake! Mother beckons. You go to her. You enter the house. That sound, what's that sound, like green wood on a hot fire, that hisssssssssing sound? It's . . . Mother. She reaches for you. Her arms are snakes. Her fingers are tiny snakes. Her eyes are snake tongues. She's . . . glad to see you! She loves you so. She embraces you! And then she sings! (Sings, in a sweet Irish tenor) When Irish eyes are smiling Sure, 'tis like a morn in spring DAVEY AND DAVID. (Together) In the lilt of Irish laughter

22

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

You can hear the Angels sing

(DA VID laughs, long and hearty, his head thrown back. A release - as though he '5 finally exorcising a ghost) DAVEY. That's right, Poppy, you laugh. Laugh, Sleep. (DA VEY goes to "Poppy," wraps the blanket around him) DAVID. When I touched him, POppy's skin was hot,

dry, rough. Like a snake's. Well. The next morning, I got

up to pee. . . . (LIGHTS roll. Morning. DAVEYstands,

goes to the edge ofthe clearing.)

DAVEY. Hey, Poppy. Poppy, guess what. (Turns.

Frowns) Hey, Poppy.

DAVID. Then I touched him again. (DAVEY goes to "Poppy," kneels. hesitates, then reaches out to touch him. HE pulls his hand back with a sharp intake of breath) Poppy. (DAVEY snatches the blanket. HE stares, horrified, at "Poppy." DAVID watches him. Beat. Suddenly, DA VEY runs to the edge of the stage. HE turns. A moment: DA VID stands, looking at DA VEY. Quick beat. Then DA VEY runs ojI DAVID sits.) I ran. I don't know how far. I guess I ran until I came to the river. God's blood moving through a gash in the earth. (LIGHTS roll. We're back in the hardware store backroom) And then. . . . Well, that's another story. I loved my Poppy. He was a strange man. (Beat) The end. God bless. (Stands, moves away from the table not sure to do, smiling, rather oddly- the story has leji him in a strange mood. LEON enters) LEON. (Goes straight to the microphone) Hello! That was ... DAVID. (Into the microphone. shouts) David Quinn! LEON. (Gentlv pushes David out of the way) David

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

23

Quinn. A special storytelling treat. The show's not over! Keep those sets on! This is more fun than sleeping! This is the future! (Cranks up the Victrola. MUSIC: the usual hillbilly) You okay? DAVID. I guess so. LEON. That was . . . real good. Different. But I'm sure the folks got a lot out ofit. What can I say? (DA VID laughs. It's light, high-an echo of DAVEY's laugh.) Well, you enjoyed it. That's one anyway. DAVID. Jeez, I did it. LEON. Yes, you did do it, that's true. Thanks again. Well. . . . DAVID. The money. LEON. Money? Oh, damn, didn't I ... ? DAVID. You didn't. LEON. Well, never mind, who cares, I'll take your word for it. Urn . . . ? DAVID. One dollar. LEON. A buck!? I said a buck? You only talked an hour, less than an hour. Last night I paid the banjo picker with the glass eye a buck and he played for three hours. Alright, tell you what, we'll split the difference. Here's fifty cents. DAVID. It's a buck. LEON. (After a beat, leans into the microphone) We're coming to you through the magic of the ether, skipping through the stars and bouncing offa the clouds. Tum your radios on! DAVID. There's no one listening. LEON. You'd be surprised. DAVID. Fifty cents worth of people. LEON. That's right. The prairie's big, farms are few. Fifty cents is the best I can do. DAVID. What's your name again?

24

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

LEON. Leon Schwab. Take the fifty cents. David Quinn. (Holds out the coins. DAVID takes them.) Thanks again.

FRANKIE. Scared? Scared ofa girl? Maybe you should be wearing these skirts. Hal (Lunges at him. DA VEY jerks backward, slips, falls, then scrambles to his feet.) You fell! Hal Cowshit! You fell in fresh cowshit! It's what you deserve, you thief. Now c'mon, try and get by me so I can whip the devil out of you.

(LIGHTS roll. ACTORS 1 and 3 enter.) ACTOR 3. 1895.

ACTOR 1. I can feel your freckles.

ACTOR 3. He giggles like a girl when he does it. Thisisa

good world. ACTOR 1. Take my hand. ACTOR 3. Come on.

(LIGHTS roll. A farmyard. A bright hot afternoon. SFX' BARNYARD SOUNDS, birds, a distantly barking dog, etc. DA VEY enters, HE moves carefully across the stage, not sneaking per se, but moving warily. HE stumbles-HE's exhausted, emotionally drained. HE stops by a barn, listening. A GIRL enters, quietly following DA VEY, smiling. DA VEY doesn't hear her. DA VEY pushes the barn door open and steps into the barn. The GIRL stands in the doorway, then takes a step inside. DAVEY hears her, turns. SHE charges.) FRANKIE. AAAGGGHHH! (Tackles him, wrestles with him, laughing) DAVEY.OOf! FRANKIE. Gotcha! Gotcha, you thief, you chicken thief, you horse thief! Hal Gotcha! (Leaps to her feet, stands in the barn door, effectively blocking it, poised for another tackle, breathing shallowly, excitedly) This is the only door. You're caught. Penned in like a squeaky runt pig. Try and get by me. DAVEY. You're a girl.

25

(DAVEY takes offhis hat and throws it down inJrustra­ tion. FRANKIE moves toward the sound. DA VEY taps thefloor with hisfoot, experimentally,frowning. FRANKIE moves toward the sound.) DAVEY. You're blind. FRANKIE. You scared? Scared of a blind girl? Come on! DAVEY. I can't.

(FRANKIE shoves the barn door closed. LIGHTS roll. The stage becomes dark, shadowy.) FRANKIE. We're even. Come on.

(Feints toward DA VEY. HE leaps aside. SHE chases him. Etcetera.) FRANKIE. Ha! Ha! DAVEY. Ha! FRANKIE. Hal Hal (DA VEY makes a break across the barn and FRANKIE tackles him, bringing him down with a resounding thud. ) You're a dangerous chicken thief! We'll string you up at sunrise! We'll stretch your neck and whack at your feet with bullwhips! Ha! (FRANKIE puts both her hands on him and explores his body with sudden intensity. DA VEY reacts instinctively,

26

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

27

pulling away.) Sh. Don't move. (Explores him. It's in­ FRANKIE. He's drunk. He'll kill you, Irish. tense, sensuous, but not at all erotic. DA VEY's tense.) FATHER. (OJ}) Frankie!!! Punk. Underfed punk. Underfed Irish punk. DAVEY. (Frightened) What'm I gonna do? DAVEY. How do you-? FATHER. (Still off) Where the hell are you!? FRANKIE. I can feel your freckles. Mama hates the FRANKIE. (Whispers to DAVEY) Up here. In the hayloft. Irish. "Horse thieves." You walk a lot and you need new Be quick! (DAVEY scampers into the hayloft.) shoes. Are these your only clothes? What happened to FATHER. (Enters) Frankie! (FATHER shoves the barn you? You're a waifl They threw you out. Runt. Charity door open. He's silhouetted in the door, swaying drunk­ case. enly, breathing hard and shallowly. FRANKIE cowers.) DAVEY. Hey.

There you are. Oh God, look at you, you're covered with FRANKIE. (Struggles to hold him) Wait a­

filth, and your mother is dying, dying! You oUghta be DAVEY. (Pulling away) Don't.

chained up FRANKIE. (Authoritatively) Hold still. (DA VEY obeys.

FRANKIE. Don't hit me. FRANKIE touches his eyes, gently.) You been cryin'. FATHER. What'll I do with you? I can't be expected to What happened to you? Did your mama die? My care for a freak, can I? My wife is dying! (Staggers into the mama's dyin'. She's in the house right now. Dyin'! barn, suddenly stops) There's somebody else here. (DA VEY starts to cry. FRANKIE turns her head away. FRANKIE. (Ina little girl voice) Mama's calling to you, Moment) Well, go ahead and cry ifyou gotta but don't do Papa. it too loud or Father'll come out and kill you dead. He FATHER. Eh? What? does dirty things. FRANKIE. Don't hit me. It's Mama. I can hear her. She DAVEY. My Poppy died. wants you. FRANKIE. You loved him. Everything dies, Irish. FATHER. Oh, God! DAVEY. Not me. FRANKIE. (Laughs) Me either. (Continues her explo­ (Starts toward the house. FRANKIE runs after him.) ration) You're very handsome. DAVEY. (Reaches/or her) My tum. FRANKIE. Papa. Better lock the bam door. I heard FRANKIE. (Slaps his hands away) Irishman! voices. Maybe it's more a them bums comin' off the DAVEY. Hey, you live in that big house? You must be freights. I betcha it is. I heard 'em, over there. rich. FRANKIE. Not me. Papa. Here he comes. (FATHER pulls the barn door closed, and locks it. SFX: DAVEY. Huh? the RA TTLE 0/ the chain, the sound 0/ a padlock FRANKIE. Sh. snapped shut. FRANKIE is smiling. SHE stands by FATHER. (Offstage, approaching) Frankie! Hey, the barn door, listening. DA VEY jumps down from Frankie! the hayloft and pulls at the door. Locked)

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

DAVEY. Hey. Hey!

FATHER. (Offstage by now) Frankie! Back to the

house! FRANKJE. Coming, Papa! DAVEY. HEY!

ment. THEY comfort each other. Then FRANKIE lets him go.) You need a bath, Irish. (Takes another deep breath) Being blind is wonderful. Every breath, and you're in a new world. (Stands) We better go.

28

(FRANKIE exits. DA VEY pulls at the door. LIGHTS roll. Night. Very dark. No moon. DAVEY sleeps, curled up on thefloor. FRANKIE enters. SHE stands in the doorway, a silhouette, holding a plate offood. DAVEY's dreaming, muttering softly. FRANKIE goes to him. Sits) FRANKJE. (After a moment, softly) Hey, Irish. DAVEY. (Starts, awake and frightened) Aaaggghhh! Hey. You scared me. FRANKIE. I scare everybody. It's one of my best tal­ ents. Papa beats me for it. DAVEY. Where the hell've you been!? FRANKIE. (Holds out the plate) Here. (DAVEY grabs

it, takes a piece offood, eats it ravenously.) DAVEY. Where've you been? You think I like bein' locked up in a barn? At least in jail they got light. FRANKIE. Mama died. (Moment. FRANKIE is very still, eerily calm. DA VEY looks at her.) I can hear Papa crying. I can hear the whisky sloshing in his bottle. Pretty soon, he'll start in to whackin' at me with his hand. Ooh, he likes that slappin' sound. He giggles like a girl when he does it. Then, sometimes, he. . . . DAVEY. What? FRANKIE. You know. (Beat) I know she's dead, 'cause he made me touch her. I won't cry. Touch me. Any­ where. This is a good world. (DA VEY touches her, tenta­

tively. SHE suddenly embraces him, desperately. A mo-

29

DAVEY. Go? FRANKIE. I'm ready. Bring the food. Too bad we don't have any of Mama's bread, then we wouldn't need any­ thing else. DAVEY. Where we going? FRANKIE. Up to you. Once I get past that gate, I'm lost. (Beat. Shouts) I'm gonna live in a million different worlds! Papa wants to put me in a home. No! No! (Beat) Well, come on. DAVEY. It's dark. FRANKIE. Take my hand.

(They go to the door. FRANKIE stops, turns. A beat. Exuent. LIGHTS roll. Enter ACTORS 1 & 3.) ACTOR ACTOR ACTOR ACTOR ACTOR

1. 3. 1. 3. 1.

1923. It's like a rabbit that shits money. That's the kinda guy I am. What do you people eat out here? I miss her something fierce. Let's go.

(LIGHTS roll. Bright daylight. DAVID QUINN'sfarm. LEON enters. HE's carrying a very heavy old-fash­ ioned radio. 1920's straw hat. Sweating freely.) LEON. Hey, Quinn! Quinn! Yeah, you! It's me, re­ member me, Leon Schwab? Cmon over here, I wanna talk to ya! Take a break! (Puts the radio down. Wipes his sweatyface. Sits) I hate to see a grown man die. Come on!

30

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

(DA VID enters, wearing afarmer's coveralls, wiping his face with a rag.) Look at you. You look like an honest-to­ God fanner. DAVID. Afternoon, Mister Schwab. LEON. (Awkwardly, uncomfortable with the local nice­ ties) Afternoon, Quinn. Real dang hot, eh? DAVID. Sure is. Say, is that a radio? LEON. You never seen one before? Yeah. DAVID.Oh. LEON. It's a present. Me to you. Free for nothing. DAVID. Yeah? How's it work? LEON. You gotta plug it into a car battery. Won't run onAe. DAVID. But how does it work? LEON. How the hell'm I supposed to know that? It's . . . magic. Some Italian invented it. DAVID. Well, thank you. People sure liked my story, eh? Folks been coming all the way out here,just to tell me so. I never had so many people stopping by. Gus Bunsen told me had thirty-two people in his parlor and at least ten of'em went into Morris Hardware and bought radio sets, the next day. Jack Morris told me. (LEON smiles politely, pretending to be fascinated by all this.) Well . . . It was . . . very enjoyable. I appreciate the chance to do it. I think about my Poppy all the time, but I never talk about him. From now on, I wilL So . . . thanks. And thanks for the radio. LEON. It's the kinda guy I am. (QUINN starts to leave) Listen, Quinn. lowe you four bits. DAVID. No. LEON. No, really, I ­ DAVID. Forget about it. LEON. (Digging in his pockets) I'm serious. DAVID. So'm I. You don't-

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

31

LEON. Here, takeDAVID. -owe me anything. LEON. -the money, please, take the­ DAVID. No, I don'tLEON. (Shouts) Take the money! (Grabs DAVID's hand, slaps the money into it, then moves away, wiping sweat offhisface, trying to stay calm) You oughta stay off them tractors. Bad for the digestion. I got this old truck, and these prairie roads, sometimes I got to stop and blow breakfast. You should see me. Those your sons? Howdy, boys! Howdy! (Waves, smiling broadly. Beat. The smile fades.) I have trouble talking to people around here. DAVID. Threshing crew. LEON. Oh. What do they . . . thresh? Never mind. Listen. Quinn. All that stuff about your . . . Poppy, is that all true? (Beat. DA VID turns, moves away, very uncomfortable.) Snake dreams. I'm from New York. We don't dream like that. Well, who cares ifit's true. None a them bible stories is true and look at the way they get people all wound up. I mean, I been places it rained forty days and nothing floated away. DAVID. You been around. LEON. Yeah. You too, eh? DAVID. Yeah. LEON. You must have a lot a . . . stories. (Another beat. DA VID seems nervous. HE sits, not looking at LEON.) Quinn? DAVID. I guess I do, sure. I do. LEON. You alright? Pardon me for asking, but people around here, I don't know. I had a lady bust out crying on me the other day and all I did was tell her a joke. (Beat) Look, I got a proposition for you. DAVID. You want me to tell stories on the radio. LEON. Well, yeah.

32

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

DAVID. I was afraid a this. Oh, Lord. (Beat) I . . . tell stories all the time, damn good stories. too, but I only tell 'em when I'm alone. LEON. (Slight pause) Oh. DAVID. I travelled around with a girl named Frankie. I gotta lotta stories about that. LEON. We gotta keep it clean. DAVID. Frankie was blind. LEON. Great. DAVID. Telling that story about Poppy, it made me feel like I stole something and got away with it. LEON. (Slight pause) Gee. DAVID. I miss Frankie something fierce. LEON. Maybe she's got a radio. (DA VID laughs, heart­ ily) These boxes, they do things to people. Out here on the prairie, people need these things. You don't have to ride all day just to hear another voice besides your wife's. They buy 'em like crazy. After you told that story about Poppy we sold forty-two sets in one day. That's a record. These things are like rabbits that shit money. DAVID. How often would I tell the stories? LEON. Every night. Except when we're setting up, and travelling. DAVID. Travelling? LEON. Yeah. The way it works, we get connected with the local hardware store, somebody to sell the sets. Then we broadcast from the roof. We get the local fat lady to sing Stephen Foster. Tonight, I got a crooning cowboyDAVID. Wayne Louks. LEON. Yeah. You know him? DAVID. He's real excited. LEON. He's beside himself. I was gonna ask him for

five dollars, but I decided to let him sing for free. Kinda guy I am. Anyway, we sell the sets like crazy, then we move on. DAVID. What do folks listen to when we leave? LEON. (Slight pause) I don't know, I never asked. (Beat) Radio's the future! We're the first! Hackin' our way through the wilderness a the great plains, we're making history here! The Voice of the Prairie. Whad­ daya say, you interested? (Beat) You own this farm? DAVID. I think so, yeah. LEON. You . . . think so? DAVID. Crazy old lady died and she gave it to me. I was just passing through. Threshing wheat, like these guys. Nobody ever told me to leave. Till now. Damn. LEON. Y'okay? DAVID. How much you gonna pay me, Mister Schwab? LEON. (Smoothly, in his element now) Call me Leon. Well, David, I'll tell ya, jeez, I don't know. Expenses're high. You know. The way everything's going up these days. I'm carrying a big note on the broadcasting equipment. DAVID. Ten dollars a week. LEON. Ten dollars a week! DAVID. Yes. And a, what do you call it, every time you sell a radio set, I get aLEON. A commission!? Good God, what do you peo­ ple eat out here!? Ten dollars a week! DAVID (Laughing, waving to the threshers). Hey! You guys want this farm!? (To LEON) Poppy used to say, "Never turn down an unexpected invitation to travel." (LEON stares at him. DAVID smiles.) And you'll have to get that . . . microphone thing grounded.

34

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

LEON. Four dollars a week. Five. Six. DA VID. Ten. Jack Morris told me you're marking those radios up two hundred percent. LEON. No commission. DAVID. Commission on every set after . . . ten a day. People'Ulove my stories. LEON. (Slight hesitation) Deal. DAVID. That your truck? LEON. Yeah. DAVID. Let's go. LEON. (Incredulous) You gonna pack? DAVID. There's nothing in there I need. I'm ready. I got four bits in my pocket already. (Exits. LEONstarts to follow.) LEON. Wait!

(Grabs the radio gift, then hurries off, after DAVID. LIGHTS roll. ACTORS 1,2 and 3 enter.) ACTOR 1. 1895. I need you. ACTOR 3. Pretty young, I think. ACTOR 2. I got no stories now! ACTOR 3. You're the hungriest guy I ever travelled with. Jump.

(LIGHTS roll. Night. SFX: a TRAINpounding along the rails. Loud. LightsJlashing. DA VEY and FRANKIE are poised at the door ofa boxcar.) DAVEY. Jump!

FRANKIE. Jump? Now?

DAVEY. Jump!

FRANKIE. Now!?

DAVEY. Now, yes, now, Jump! JUMP! (POUNDING

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

35

ojihe train crescendos. FRANKIE and DA VEYjump, hit the ground, rolling head over heels, sprawling by the tracks. FRANKIE's laughing wildly.) Ow. FRANKIE. Did you hurt yourself? DAVEY. (Holding his knee, grimacing) No! I'm fine! Are you okay? FRANKIE. Let's do it again! DA VEY. Let's eat. FRANKIE. You're the hungriest guy I ever travelled with. DAVEY. (Looking warily around) Let's get outa here before somebody sees us. FRANKIE. They can't see us. We're invisible. DAVEY. Come on. FRANKIE. Where are we? DAVEY. I don't know. (LIGHTS roll. Daylight. A bundle of newspapers hits the stage) Newsstand over there. (Takes FRANKIE to the stand, picks up a paper, reads) We're in Natchez, Mississippi. FRANKIE. Natchez, Mississippi. DAVEY. (Eyes wide, shocked) Frankie. Oh, Frankie. Look! FRANKIE. Yeah? DAVEY. It's you. It's a picture of you, in the paper, on the front page, Frankie, it's you! (Reads, with some diffi­ culty) "Runaway Blind Girl. Father Cries Come Home Sweet Girl, I Am Reformed." It's in every paper. (FRANKIE's laughing. DA VEY snatches a paper, starts to read.) NEWS VENDOR. (Offstage) Hey! You. Kid. You gonna pay for that paper? Three cents. Hey! (NEWS VENDOR enters. DA VEYpulls FRANKIE away.) Come back here, both a you-Hey. It's her, it's the girl in the paper, it's Frankie the Blind Girl! Hey!

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

(Starts to chase them. SFX: a crash of THUNDER. LIGHTS roll. Dark night. A thunderstorm booms. The basement of an abandoned building. DA VEY pulls Frankie inside. SHE giggles. DA VEY has his hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter.)

"Filthy Papists!" And Kilty says, "Quick! Hide in the confessionals!"

36

37

(Giggles. Beat. Then FRANKIE laughs.) FRANKIE. The moon's out. Hey, Davey, how old are you? DAVEY. I don't know. Poppy never told me. Pretty young, I think. FRANKIE. You're so bony. DAVEY. I'm hungry. FRANKIE. You wanna do some kissin '? Our maid had a son, Walter, and we kissed a lot, but I'd rather try it with you. You wanna try? DAVEY. Not really.

FRANKIE. There's nothing else to do.

DAVEY. Well, okay.

DAVEY. (Sotto voce, scared) Frankie. Stop it. Sh. Sh! (Beat) You done? You finally done? FRANKIE. (Voice muffled, nodding) Mm-hm. DAVEY. I'm gonna take my hand away now. Okay? FRANKIE. Kay. DAVEY. Okay. (Removes his hand. FRANKIE giggles.

HE reclamps his hand over her mouth. SHE goes on laughing. DA VEY laughs too, in spite of himself. THEY're both out of breath. Suddenly, DA VEY jumps up.) What was that? FRANKIE. I like it when everything's like this. The way you breathe. Fugitives! Hold on to me. That way I'll stay with you. Don't slip away. As long as we're together, they'll be blind. Hold me. (HE holds her. A moment) Hey, Davey. DAVEY. What?

FRANKIE. There's someone in the alley.

DAVEY. (Frightened) Really?

FRANKIE. Yeah. Sh.

(DA VEY kisses her lightly. A moment. THEY kiss again. DAVEY's enthusiasm increases. LIGHTS roll. DA VID is speaking into the radio microphone.) DAVID. We were famous. We were a national sensa­ tion. This was the era ofyellow journalism. The tabloids were abuzz with the saga of Frankie the Blind Girl, run­ ning away from the drunken father who beat her, mourning her sainted mother, disappearing with some kid hobo-me-into the vastness ofthe young nation. Well, it made for a pretty good story.

(Pause. Then SFX: a BOTTLE SMASHING offstage, distantly. ) DAVEY. Drunk.

FRANKIE. Tell me another story.

DAVEY. I got no stories now. (Quick beat. DAVEY

laughs, lightly, weirdly.) One time Poppy and the lads broke into a Protestant church. They hear voices, yelling.

(LIGHTS roll. FRANKIE and DAVEY are curled up, sleeping. DAVEY stands, starts to move away. FRANKIE wakes up, abruptly.)

j

38

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

FRANKIE. Where you goin'? Hey.

DAVEY. Get some food. It's getting light out.

FRANKIE. Lemme come.

DAVEY. No.

FRANKIE. Yes.

DAVEY. They'll catch us.

FRANKIE. They won't. I been telling you, they can't

see us. DAVEY. They're looking for a blind girl. FRANKIE. How'll they know I'm blind? Watch. (To imaginary passersby)Hello. Hello. Good morning. Af­ ternoon, ma'am, cute baby. Sir, may we help you? 'Cause I can see better with my ears than most people can with their stupid eyes! DAVFY. (After a pause) I'll be right back. FRANKIE. (Grabs him, suddenly intense) Davey, we gotta stick together, they won't catch us if we stick to­ gether. That's a true fact. I can make'em not see us. But I need you. DAVEY. You're just scared.

FRANKIE. Scared! You-!

(Swings at him. DA VEY ducks and she misses- barely. SHE swings again and again. HE dodges, but SHE has an uncanny sense of where he is.) DAVEY. Hey. Frankie. Hey. Ouch!

FRANKIE. You're making me mad. I'm not scared.

DAVEY. Okay. Okay! Stop! Frankie!

(He grabs her. An embrace. FRANKIE takes his arm. Both smiling. LIGHTS roll. Night. Railroad tracks. FRANKIE and DAVEY crouch down, waiting. SFX: an approaching TRAIN, soft at first but building quickly.)

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

39

FRANKIE. I'm so hungry I think I could just float onto that train. (SFX: the sound of the TRAIN grows very loud. A train WHISTLE screeches.) DAVEY. Here it is. (THEY tense.) Now! Jump! JUMP!!! (THEY leap forward, into the night. BLACKOUT) DAVID. (In the darkness, on the radio) I can still feel the pounding of that steel, even today. It stays with you. On hot nights I can fall asleep remembering that sooth­ ing, boneshaking rhythm. (LIGHTS up. Night, in a hardware store backroom. DA VID's on the air, speaking into the microphone. Though more assured and relaxed than in the first story, there's still an intensity to his demeanor, a sense ofselfdiscovery- and he's not neces­ sarily comfortable with it.) Frankie could tell which box­ cars were empty, full, half full, what was in 'em, just by whackin' 'em with her fist. She could hear the yard bulls coming a mile off. She could hear their keys rattle, she could sense their dim, nasty thoughts. Riding freights with Frankie was like having my own private railroad. She made me feel like Cornelius Vanderbilt. (Pause. DAVID is very still. Then HE smiles.) Frankie stole a chicken once. Now, if you've ever chased a chicken around a farmyard, you know what a feat that was, for a blind girl. And Frankie picked the meanest, nastiest, prissiest ole rooster there. She took off after that ole boy, down a gully, on into the woods, the rooster screaming, Frankie squawking. And she ran him down. I caught up with her, and I can still see her, see her sitting in a shaft of dusty sunlight, holding the rooster, petting him, talking to him. (Beat) What're we gonna do now? Eat him. How? Cook him. How? We were completely empty handed. We had nothing. We were free.

(NOISES off: a door opening, a WOMAN laughing, gig­

40

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

gling shyly, and LEON's voice. LEON looks into the room.) LEON. Susie, sh. He's still on the air. SUSIE. (Offstage) Oh. Jeez. (LEON and SUSIE, a shy young woman, enter.) DAVID. (Continues) So . . . Frankie let that bird go. I 'spect he led a chaste life after that. (Another beat. DAVID's very still. LEON leers as Susie. SUSIE stares raptly at David.) Well, all for now. Tune in tomorrow night, and Sunday too, we'll be here. God bless. LEON. (Leans into the microphone, taking over, and showing off) God bless every darn one a ya. That's Davey Quinn, folks, the voice ofthe prairie. Isn't he wonderful? Don't touch that dial!

(DA VID moves away from the table. HE smiles shyly at SUSIE, not sure of what to say. SUSIE blushes.) SUSIE. Jeez.

(DAVID exits, abruptly.) LEON. (On the radio, continuing) We got hog prices, and we got fashion tips, and household hints! And we got real music, none a that hillbilly garbage that slime quack plays in Kansas City! (Beat. LEON continues, smoothly and persuasively, trying hard to be sincere.) And folks, I wanna remind you again to write to your Congressman and help fight the threat to our God-given right to free­ dom of speech. No Federal Communications Commis­ sion. No licensing. Keep Davey Quinn on the air and defend our Constitution! Remember, Miss Emily says: keep the airwaves free and keep America free, too. Miss

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41

Emily loves you. Davey Quinn loves you. Susie loves you. SUSIE. Jeez. LEON. And I love you. That's Miss Emily, Box 1717, Kansas City, Missouri. And now, here she is, folks, the singer all you Oklahomians'd be requesting ifonly you'd ever heard of her. She's the greatest. Bessie Smith! No hillbilly! I hear one more banjo I'll go berserk! (Cranks up the Victrola. *MUSIC: Bessie Smith blues. LEON looks around-no David- then smiles at Susie.) He gets real sensitive when he does the stories. (Exits. From off:) Quinn, there's somebody here wants to meetcha. I promised her. C'mon. DAVID. (Offstage) Leon, I can't. LEON. She's real pretty. SUSIE. Jeez. LEON. (Still oJj) You can be weird later. Come on. t'mon! (DAVID and LEON enter.) Susie. Meet Davey Quinn. The voice of the prairie. Susie's been proposed to, but I've recommending a career in radio. It's the future. A hundred years from now, people'll be wearing radios in their hats. SUSIE. I really love your stories. Last night, Mama cried. Me, too.

(DA VID and SUSIE look at each other, both smiling shyly and blushing. LEON notices this, and pulls SUSIE away.) LEON. He's shy, Susie. Hey, Quinn. Payday. *CAUTIONARY NOTE: Permission to produce this play does not include permission to use any Bessie Smith music in production.

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(Takes out a wad ofcash and starts peeling bills off it. SUSIE reacts.) SUSIE. Jeez.

LEON. Brings tears to your eyes, eh? Time for a raise.

DAVID. No, Leon.

LEON. Oh. sure. That was a real good story tonight.

DAVID. Oh, sure. That was a real good story tonight.

DAVID. We haven't sold a radio all week, you don't

have to give me a­ LEON. Quinn. SUSIE. Everybody's got a radio now, ever since that KFKB started. Kansas First, Kansas Best. (Laughs, starts talking (). mile-a-minute. LEON becomes agi­ tated.) Doctor Brinkley and his goat gland operations. Grandpa wants one. Grandma said no. Huh-uh. The receptions real good, even this far away. Everybody lis­ tens to KFKB. LEON. Quinn!

DAVID. (Notices Leon's agitation) Oh. I'm ... going

outside. SUSIE. Oh. LEON. (Winks lewdly) Good idea. DAVID. Very nice to meet you, Susie. SUSIE. Jeez. (LIGHTS roll. Night. Behind the hard­ ware store. DAVID sits on the ground.) LEON. (As he goes oJlwith SUSIE) Susie, come to New York with me. I'll take you up to Harlem. You like jazz? SUSIE. Mister SchwabLEON. I think you have something in your eye. SUSIE. Mister-Hey. Hey! (SFX: SLAP, skin on skin) LEON. Ow.

(The blues MUSIC fades. A moment. DAVID alone. SUSIE enters, approaching DAVID, shy and nervous.)

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SUSIE. (Finally) Are you bein' crazy now? DAVID. (Reacts, startled) Eh? Oh. SUSIE. Mister Schwab says the stories make you crazy. Maybe you wanna be alone. Y'know, to . . . calm down. DAVID. (Stands politely) No, no. Have a . . . piece of ground. SUSIE. (Giggles) Well, okay. (SUSIE and DAVID sit. Beat. Neither knows what to say. Finally, SHE blurts:) Is Frankie the Blind Girl a true person? I know, that's a dumb question. Teddy-That's my fiance. He says I should write everything down and show it to him before I talk. He makes me mad. DAVID. It's not a dumb question. Yes, she is a true person. SUSIE. I bet she was wonderful. DAVID. She was. She's so wonderful, I'm not even sure she was reaL All these stories . . . Well, I don't know where it comes from. Scares me. SUSIE. Mister Schwab told me you don't make the stories up, you just sit in front ofthe-the-the­ DAVlD. Microphone. SUSIE. Yeah, and out they come. Must be scary. Like dreaming. DAVID. I always pretend I'm talking to Frankie. Even when I'm talking to myself, I'm talking to Frankie. SUSIE. "I hope it rains, Frankie. "Boy, I sure need a bath, eh, Frankie?" Oh, that's so romantic. I'm a very romantic person myself. Teddy's not. Is she dead? DAVID. I don't know. She just disappeared. One mo­ ment she was there and then. . . . SUSIE. Oh, Davey. Oh. DAVID. We were eating watermelon, and Frankie was stuffing red watermelon meat into her mouth, by the H

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fistful, I can see it, the juice is running down her chin. We were always so hungry. SUSIE. That's right. DAVID. And I . . . licked the juice off her chin. SUSIE. Oooooooohhhh. . . . Jeez. DAVID. Yeah! Like that! SUSIE. Do I remind you of her? Urn, what happened after you licked the juice offa Frankie's face? DAVID. A man locked me in a shed for a week. I never saw her again. She just disappeared. SUSIE. Oh, Davey Quinn, that's so tragic. Don't be sad. Frankie loved you. (DA VID moves away. SUSIE goes to him.) My very own Davey Quinn story. Oh, I'll never forget it. DAVID. (Embarrassed, trying to calm her) Susie. Hey, Susie. I've got to stop this. SUSIE. No! Don't stop! Oh, Davey, you have to tell the

whole world about Frankie! Oh, Davey. (Starts to kiss him. Then, from offstage, SFX: a static electronic POP.)

LEON. (Ojj) Ow! SUSIE. (Reacts, startled, jumps away from DA VID)

Oh! DAVID. Leon just turned the generator off. Broad­ cast's over. SUSIE. Davey. You should tell your stories on KFKB.

Think how many people could hear you then. Oh, what a good idea! LEON. (Off, upset) Quinn! (Enters, agitated) Quinn, wegottaSUSIE. (Excited) Mister Schwab, I was just telling Davey Quinn, he should tell his stories-

DAVID. (Trying to stop her) Susie-

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SUSIE. (Plowing on ahead)-on KFKB! Wouldn't that be great? Think how many people could hear him. Thousands and thousands. In the paper, I read this story about KFKB, and there was this big circle- (Using LEON's chest to demonstrate)-with Kansas City in the middle, and these was Kansas, and Nebraska, and Iowa, and Missouri(LEON turns away.)

DAVID. Susie. SUSIE. 'Cause Teddy says you guys go less than a hundred miles and KFKB goes everywhere. Besides, the government's gonna make you guys stop. DAVID. Susie.

SUSIE. Well, that's what Teddy says. He's pretty smart. (Beat. SUSIE looks at LEON. LEON's visibly upset.) What'd I say now? Jeez. LEON. (Struggling to stay calm, bitterly) You're sharp, Susie. Teddy deserves you. Hey, Quinn. Let's get out of here. This lousy hick town, I hate it. SUSIE. Hey.

LEON. I hate alla these towns. (Suddenly explodes, shouting angrily) I hate Herbert Hoover! Lousy Secre­ tary of Commerce, he's not gonna come all the way out here just to shut me down!!

SUSIE. (After a slight pause) President McKinley came here. LEON. (After a beat) Aaaggghhhl!! (Beat. LEON sobs.) Oh! (HE's struggling to control himself DA VID and SUSIE watch him. LEON wipes his eyes.) Hey. Hey, I'm crying. Lookit me. Tears. Get a jar.

SUSIE. (Afier a beat) WelL I better go.

LEON. Susie! Kiss me.

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SUSIE.

LEON. Kiss me, I'm crying.

SUSIE. No.

LEON. Yes!

SUSIE. (To DAVID) Bye, Davey Quinn. Bye. I hope

you find Frankie.

DAVID. (Quickly) No.

LEON. And hide?

DAVID. We'll go to Kansas City.

LEON. And help that quack sell goat gland operations?

That what we're gonna do? DAVID. Maybe, if they want me. Poppy used to say, the trouble with magic journeys is, you never know when they're over. LEON. (Stares at himfor a beat) You people out here, I had no idea you were all so weird. DAVID. Leon. LEON. What. No. Don't. No. No. Don't- (DAVID embraces him) -hug me. Oh. (Breaks away) I'm going back to the hotel and get drunk. These stars are giving me the willies. (Exits. A moment. DA VID alone) FRANKIE (Offstage). Davey! Davey, it's here! Over here! (LIGHTS roll. Dusk. The edge ofa cliff. FRANKIE enters. SHE's excited, but walks slowly, edging out each foot, breathing hard.) It's right here. Right . . . here. Davey! DAVEY. (Enters) Frankie, where'd you-?

FRANKIE. Here.

DAVEY. (Sees her, reacts, horrified) FRANKIE! Stop!

It's a cliff, you're about to fall off a cliff! FRANKIE. I know.

46

(Kisses DAVID lightly, then exits. Moment. DAVID looks at LEON, who is still crying, no longer enjoy­ ing it.) LEON. (Bitterly) "I hope you find Frankie." Who do you think you're kidding? There's no Frankie, there never was, you're making it all up. Chasing chickens through the woods, you're a fruitcake, Quinn! DAVID. You really are crying.

LEON. I don't know what's happening to me. This

stuff keeps coming out of my eyes. I think it's my brains. DAVID. Did the FBI telephone again? LEON. (Nods: yes) Uh-huh. DAVID. We have to stop broadcasting? LEON. (Nods:yes) Uh-huh. DAVID. (Sits next to LEOlv,) Well, Leon. Dam. LEON. There's something else. (Hesitates) They wanna meet Miss Emily. DAVID. (After a pause) Oh. (Starts to laugh) Oh. LEON. Oh, yeah, this is so humorous. This guy, this . . . Agent Sneed, he said he's just dying to meet her. He's sure she exists, 'cause no one'd be stupid enough to use the public airwaves to pull a swindle like that. I said she was presently indisposed. I don't think he believed me. You stupid farmer, we're going to jail! Jail! DAVID. No, we're not, Leon.

LEON. Oh, I feel better already. What are we gonna do? You gonna go back to the farm?

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(Takes a small step forwardJeelingfor the precipice with her toe. DA VEY moves toward her, glancing down, frightened. ) DAVEY. Frankie.

FRANKIE. (Finds the edge with her toe) There. (Leans forward. Starts tofall. DAVEY catches her. HE holds her tight, face tense with fear. FRANKIE leans out. They're

48

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balanced. FRANKIE looks like thefigurehead ofship, an exultant expression on her face.) DAVEY. (Fighting to stay calm) Okay. Frankie. Don't move. When I count three, we'll both take one step backward. One. Two. FRANKIE. There's a river down there. DAVEY. (Glances down) Yep, sure is. I'm impressed. Okay. When 1­ FRANKIE. And there's willow trees and a stream run­ ning through. DAVEY. Cut it out. FRANKIE. Hold on to me. DAVEY. Frankie. FRANKIE. lean feel the world open up. I can see the future. You andTIl be bouncing through the clouds, the whole'WOdd'1l10okup to see us fly. Tell me a story. DAVEY. Not-naw! ER'Al'NKIE. Ten mea story! Take us into the clouds! Comeonl (DA VEY laughs - he can't help it. Then his grip slips. FRANKIE starts to fall.) FRANKIE (Laughs). Whoa! DAVEY. Ohhh!!!

(Grabs her. His foothold starts to give way. HE scram­ bles. HE holds FRANKIE. THEYfreeze, caught in a shaft of LIGHT. DA VID stands. MUSIC­ uptempo and bright-fades in.) DAVID. I don't know how long it lasted, not much more than a few months, I suppose. Travels with Fran­ kie. They were all looking for us, everywhere, the whole

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country was looking for us, but they were blind. They couldn't see us. Every day was an adventure. Every min­ ute. I remember, once, when Frankie-Well, that's an­ other story. (Beat. Smiles) All for now. God bless. END OF ACT I

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

ACT II

Scene: A suite at the Muellbach Hotel, in Kansas City. At Rise: LEON's onstage, reading letters which he gets from one ojseveral large canvas mail bags. As he reads, he becomes more agitated-laughing weirdly, taking deep breaths, etc. ACTORS 1 and 3 enter.) ACTOR 3. 1923.

ACTOR 1. If! weren't as gutless as a hog on ice, I'd do

something drastic. ACTOR 3. lferbertHoover is a bolshevik. AC1(OR 1. They'll smell your feet in Jersey. ACTOR 3. The radio pulls it out of me. ACTOR I. Frankie.

(ExuentACTORS 1 and3. The PHONE RINGS. LEON snatches it) LEON. Yeah. (Quick beat. LEON's eyes widen. His manner becomes very obsequious.) Oh, Agent Sneed, hello. Oh, I'm fine, thanks. And yourself? Oh, she's much better, thank you so much for asking. Monday? Let's see, Monday, Monday. Why not. Monday would be fine. Two o'clock? Wonderful. We11 both be here. Oh. We're at the Muellbach Hotel, suite 2428. I am looking forward to see­ ing you then. (Hangs up. Beat. Screams) Aaaggghhh! Oh, God help me! (Beat. LEON's struggling to stay in control.) Stop it. Calm down. Read some letters. (Shakilyreaches into a mail bag and gets a letter. Opens it. A bill falls out. LEON picks it up, surprised.) Twenty dollars.

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(Reads the letter, frowning-the writing's cramped, barely legible.) WOMAN. (An offstage voice) "Dear Miss Emily. We are sending you . . . extra money, since our question is . . . s'hard. Wegotnooneelsetoturnto.Ourdaugh_ ter Polly is . . . fat. She almost never talks. And no matter what we do, she eats. She steals food from the neighbors, and then she goes to town and . . . steals it there. We are despairing ofwhat to do. All she does is, she sits and makes funny noises, except-(LEON turns the letter over.)-it's not funny. Our question is: what can we do?" LEON. Dear Mister and Missus Hoffmocken. Thank you for the twenty dollars. Buy handcuffs. Sincerely, Miss Emily. P.S. I am in jail. Please send a hacksaw. IfI weren't as gutless as a hog on ice, I'd do something dras­ tic. (Puts the letter in a pile, puts the $20 bill in his pocket) What a guy I am.

(Opens another letter, reads) MAN. (Another offstage voice) "Dear Miss Emily. How long will the present trend in utility stocks continue?" LEON. People are so greedy and acquisitive these days, it's sickening. Dear sir. The present trend will continue until the cows come home. Sincerely, Miss- (SFX: a KNOCK on the door. LEON reacts, jumps up.) Yeah, who's there! Who is it? DA VID. (OJ)) Davey Quinn. LEON. (Yanks the door open) Davey! It's you! DA VID. It's me.

LEON. Get in here. (To someone in the hall) Hello,

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ma'am. Oh, what an ugly dog. Whaddaya, tie it to a stick and use it to wash windows?

LEON. Thanks. Gabardine. Did you notice the watch? Gold. And the cufflinks? Rubies. The spats're alligator. Life is a cruel joke. Sneed called. He's coming Monday. He's bringing some associates. (Hugs DA VID impul­ sively) I am so glad to see you. DAVID. In Springfield, I got a call from a fella named David Sarnoff. And he­ LEON. Sarnoff! DAVID. Yeah, fromLEON. RCA! David Sarnoff called you? DAVID. That's right, heLEON. Well, what'd he want!? DAVID. Well, he wants me to come to New York. LEON. New York. DAVID. And tell my stories on WJZ, on a . . • vari­ ety show. He says he's organizing a National Broadcast­ ing Company, so they're gonna make a record of the show, and then they'll play it on every station in the country. Europe, too, maybe. He's gonna pay me five hundred dollars. The first show'll be a . . . tryout, but if they like it, well, then, you know. LEON. (Opens the door, steps into the hall) Whoo! (Closes the door) They'll love it. The Voice ofthe Prairie. Frankie and Davey roaming the heartland of the young nation. (Beat. DAVID's looking at thefloor.) What's the matter? DAVID. (Voice thick with emotion) I . . . Well, Leon, I'm not. . . . Leon. LEON. What. What is it? Please don't be weird, not now. DAVID. I don't know ifl can do it. LEON. (Another forced laugh) Ho, ho, ho, you're just nervous. New York is very nice. DAVID. He wants nine and a half minutes, exactly,

52

(DA VID enters [he suite. LEON comes in, closes the door.) DAVID. (Sits heavily) I'm tired. LEON. So. You went to St. Paul and Springfield? DAVID. KTC. Nice folks. LEON. Did everybody think you were the best thing since beer? DAVID. Oh, yeah. LEON. (Forced laugh) Ho, ho. You're so humble, I may have to throw you through the window. What about me? DAVID. Well, Leon, you don't have a license. LEON. Herbert Hoover is a bolshevik! DAVID. People loved the stories,· Leon. Everywhere. And these are big cities. Saint Paul. I'd go to restaurants and people'd be talking about Frankie, and Poppy. And me. They'd recognize my voice. I bet I didn't have to pay for one meal, the whole time. (DAVID laughs lightly­ DA VEY's laugh - then a beat.) Leon, the stories keep on . . . coming. It's like the radio microphone just pulls it all out of me, it just keeps coming out. Gettin' to be as crazy as Poppy. All the automobiles these days. Everywhere. LEON. You are such a hick. Yes. Cars, and trains and airplanes. Electricity. It's magic. DAVID. I stayed on the farm too long. This woman found me, she said she was Frankie. She was about ninety. She wanted to marry me. LEON. What a fun time you had. DAVID. (Looks at LEONfor a beat) Nice suit.

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and he wants it to be funny. He said he wants the folks at home to hear the audience laughing, because that way they'll laugh, too. LEON. He's a genius! DAVID. What if I'm not done after nine and a half minutes, it'll ruin the story. I can't plan like that. I never told the stories to a real live audience before. I don't know if I can. What if the stories don't . . . come? LEON. Write the story down. DAVID. I can't do that. LEON. I'll write it down! What's the matter with you? This is New York, you can't just talk, you gotta time things out. So what. What's wrong with you? (Beat) You're not gonna go, are you. You wanna go back to the farm, and return to the earth, or whatever it is they do in Nebraska, I still haven't figured it out. You're not gonna go. You don't want me to go, that's it. Oh, God, I knew it, I knew it. I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! DAVID. Leon, this is millions of people. LEON. Yes! Yes! DAVID. I'm afraid I'll find Frankie. (The PHONE RINGS.) LEON. (Reacts, startled) Aaaggghhh! (Beat. LEON an­ swers the phone.) Y eah. Yeah? Oh, yeah! Oh, this a god­ send, it's perfect. I'm so glad you're here. Yeah, he's here, he just got back in town, he's knockin' 'em dead every­ where. (Turns away from DAVID, secretively) Oh, sure, he knows all about it, he's thrilled. Really. Come on up. Suite 2428, end onhe halL Oh. To . . . your left. Great. (Hangs up. Beat. DAVID sits, tired and drained. LEON's pacing, wired and excited.) You need me, you hick. Millions of people. Whoo! I discovered you, I scraped the hayseeds offa your feet, the cowshit outa your hair. Me! (Beat) Oh God, we're going to jail.

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55

DAVID. We can't go to jail. We haven't got time. I'm going to be famous. I'm gonna be famous! LEON. Whool DAVID. I mentioned you, to Mister Sarnoff. LEON. You did? Did he know about me? I sold a lotta radios for him. DAVID. He knew all about you. LEON. (Blushes with pleasure) Really? He heard a me? DAVID. He said you're small potatoes. LEON. That sonofabitch. I took radio west! I con­ quered the prairie! DAVID. He said if! want you to come, I'll have to pay you myself.

(FRANCES enters, in the hallway. SHE's a calm, con­ tained, composed woman in;her 40~s; She wears a conservative dress, carries a white cane and wears dark glasses. She stops outside the suite antifeels the door number with her hand.) LEON. You need me! Look at you. They'll smell your feet in Jersey. You need a suit, some spats, a haircut, you need somebody to write the stories down. You need me! You don't even have to pay me, look. (Goes to one ofthe mail bags, reaches in and pulls out a large handful of currency) Look! (FRANCES knocks at the door.) Whoo! C'mere! DAVID. Leon. LEON. Come here! (Grabs DAVID and bodily pulls him to the suite door) You won't believe this, Davey Quinn, you won't believe what I've done for you. DAVID. Leon, please, I'm tired. LEON. C'mere! I've solved all your problems! (Another KNOCK on the door) Come here! (Positions DA VID in

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front of the door. A moment, pausing for effect, then LEON dramatically opens the door. DA VID stares at FRANCES) FRANCES. (After a slight pause) Mister Schwab? Is that you? Are you . . . ? DA VID. Oh, my God! FRANCES. (Turns toward DA VID) Davey? (DAVID exits, quickly, rushing into the suite bedroom. LEON gives chase.) LEON. Hey! Davey! Hey!!!

again. I can't help it. I'm terrible. (Beat) I'm a very highly regarded member of my community. Everyone thinks the world of me. I've been written up in a number of publications. I'm the only blind schoolteacher in the entire state of Arkansas. I'm an inspiration to them alL The street I live on is dreamy and quiet, filled with hon­ eysuckle, bougainvillaea, freesia, a layer cake of fra­ grances. That's what life should be. (An emotional beat. FRANCES bows her head, then looks up, composed.) WelL You should understand, of course, that to me the world looks like this.

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(BLACKOUT. A SPOTfades up downstage. FRANCES steps into it. Although her demeanor is composed and self-assured, there's a strong current of emo­ tional tension, audible in her voice.) FRANCES. I don't know what life is. And that's what life is. (Beat) I said that to James and he was so upset, he couldn't even pray. James prays hard. I love him when he prays, he's like a tea kettle, just before it boils. (Beat) Have you ever had a wonderful dream, or a horrible dream for that matter, and it leaves you with a feeling that you absolutely must tell someone about it, but when you try, you can't remember? That's what life is. (Beat) So Itry notto think about it. It's alljust dreams, and what are dreams worth? James says we live only for the life to come and everything else is worthless. The devil lives in the past. Don't think about it, he says. But these voices from the past, these . . . phantoms and demons of my imagination, whatever they are, they shriek at me. Some­ times, I can't hear anything else. (Beat) I try to tell James. But he just weeps, and prays, then goes for long walks and comes back all sweaty, then his asthma acts up, and his voice squeaks, and I laugh, and then it starts all over

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(BLACKOUT. In the darkness, a cacophony of VOICES) SCHOOLBOY. Miss Reed! Me! Oh, Miss Reed, call on me, call on me, call on-! PASSERBY. Evening, Miss Reed. JAMES. Frances, I want to ask you once more­ FRANCES. No, James. GOSSIPMONGER. That's her, that's the blind woman I was telling you about, the suffragette. JAMES. Will you marry me? SCHOOLGIRL. Johnny! Miss Reed, Johnny's making faces at you again! JAMES. Will you marry me? FRANCES. Quiet! Everyone! Quiet! SCHOOLBOY. That's a lie! I never! It was Patsy! FRANCES. Quiet! GOSSIPMONGER. Oh, look, her blouse doesn't match her skirt. JAMES. Marry me? Marry me? Marry me? Marry me? FRANCES. (Overlapping JAMES, above) No. No. No. No. No. No.

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SCHOOLCHILDREN. Miss Reed! Miss Reed! Miss Reed! FRANCES. Quiet! Everyone, please be quiet!

and I was back in the world. I could hear Frankie laugh­ ing on the Saint Paul side. FRANCES. You Irishman! DA VID. "You Irishman!" (JAMES stands, shocked.) Then we headed south. Poppy had told me it was warmer in the winter down­

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(A moment ofsilence) DA VEY. (Voice suddenly rings out, clear, recogniz­ able) Frankie! Hey, Frankie! Frankie! DAVID. (In the darkness, on the radio) I remember one time Frankie made me walk blindfolded over a railroad trestle. Minneapolis, it was. Over the Mississippi. The river was glistening blue. So beautiful. And so far away. (LIGHTS fade up. FRANCES and JAMES, wearing a clergyman's collar, are sitting in Frances' parlor, listen­ ing to DAVID's story on a new radio. DAVID is visible, upstage. FRANCES reacts to the story in a very intense way. SHE's quite shocked. SHE's laughing, crying, rock­ ing back andforth, hands covering her face, etc, JAMES watches her, confused, becoming rather upset himself.) Frankie wanted to show me how "wonderful it is to be blind." Well, I did just fine till I got about halfway across. I was wrapped in this soft thick silence. I couldn't hear anything. I totally lost any sense of direction, got com­ pletely turned around. And when you're walking blind­ folded across a railroad trestle, which I don't recom­ mend, well, you need a sense ofdirection. I was sure I was going to step off that bridge, straight into the future. Each step was the end of my life. I remember thinking, "Fran­ kie's right, it's wonderful to be blind." FRANCES. (laughs) Oh! DAVID. Then I tripped. FRANCES. Oh, no! DAVID. I fell for . . . five minutes, it seemed like. Then a wooden crosstie whacked me on the forehead

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(JAMES turns the radio off. DAVID exits. A moment. FRANCES is still reacting to the shock ofthe story, laughing, hugging herself. Slowly, SHE regains her composure. JAMES watches her.) JAMES. (Finally, in a southern accent) Well. Frances. I really feel I must ask youFRANCES. Please, James, don't. Not now. JAMES. Frances, really. Surely there's no connection between you and . . . this man on the . . . radio. Surely not. Is there? It certainly wouldn't make any dif­ ference in terms of my feelings for you, but . . . Frankie? FRANCES. Don't call me that. JAMES. Why not? FRANCES. It's not my name! JAMES. (Ajierapause) Frances, you know, it occurs to me that you've never Lold me anything about your past. Your family, your childhood, your educaFRANCES. The past is past, James, or so you've alwaysJAMES. Of course, that's true, and as I say, it would make no difference to me. I love you deeply. Still, isn't it a form of dishonesty not toFRANCES. You're going to make me angry. JAMES. Is that why you refuse to marry me, because of some sort of . . . tainted past? (FRANCES laughs.)

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THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

This is a serious question, Frances. Why won't you marry me? It makes no sense to me. I want you. Now, Frances. I want you now. I want to kiss you, I want to feel your lips upon my lips, I want to feel your flesh pressing against mine, it is not wrong to want these things! Hoo! (This is a sudden asthmatic wheeze, JAMES sucking in his breath. It squeaks. JAMES stops, regains control. FRANCES is surprised at this outburst, and not unpleas­ antly. SHE smiles Jaintly, head cocked at an odd angle. JAMES rises.) I'm sorry. I'll go. I have to be careful ofmy asthma. I must say that I did not enjoy that . . . fiction, nor do I approve of this . . . gadget. My housekeeper just bought one. I'll have to speak with her about it. I'll call on you later this evening, to make sure you're alright. Are you alright? FRANCES. Yes.

DAVEY. (Offstage) Frankie! Hey, Frankie! (Enters. HE moves unsteadily-exhausted and starving-and he carries a large, heavy- and imaginary­ watermelon. DA VEY catches his breath.) Frankie. FRANCES. (As ifscolding one oJher students) You went offby yourself! I told you never, never to do that. It was your fault. We could've gone on forever, but no, you had to go off on your own. You . . . storyteller. DAVEY. What's the matter? Don't be scared. FRANCES. I'm not scared! I was never scared, not with you. It never occurred to me to be scared. They had to teach me fear later. In the home.

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(FRANCES stands. Slowly, she removes her dark glasses, and changes her clothes. SHE's becoming FRANKIE. An emotionally charged process. NOTE: if the play is done with six performers, FRANKIE would enter at this point and FRANCES would re­ main on stage during the entire scene, which would take place in FRANCES' memory.)

(JAMES exits. A tense moment. Then FRANCES reaches out and turns the radio on again. Enter DA VID, upstage.)

DAVEY. You were asleep. I thought it would be okay. I'm sorry. FRANCES/FRANKIE. The sky's closing. DAVEY. Huh?

DA VID. (On the radio, continuing)-hungry. Hungry all the time, completely empty-handed, completely free. Floating. Maybe the hunger is why it all seems so unreal, like it never happened. Hey, Frankie, you out there? Well, that's all, I guess. The end. God bless. Back to . . . more music, I suppose.

(FRANCES moves to DAVEY. Sits. She's FRANKIE now.)

(MUSIC: the usual 1920's hillbilly. FRANCES reaches out to turn offthe radio, but abruptly starts crying. The tears come and go; one moment she's wracked by sobs, then quiet. She sits very still, hugging herself.)

FRANKIE. When I was in Mama's stomach I could feel her feel Papa come into the room. It's the same now, except it's in the sky. DAVEY. I got some food. FRANKIE. You do!? I didn't know! What you got?

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THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

DAVEY. Watennelon. FRANKIE. (Moans) Aaaggghhh . . . I'm so hungry for meat, and eggs, and Mama's sour milk corn pone, and Mama's milk-fried chicken, and Boston baked beans, andDAVEY. I'm sorry. FRANKIE. And watennelon's my favorite. Break it open. No, let me. (Smashes the "melon" with her fist) Aaaggghhh! (THEY eat it, cramming handfuls the red meat into their mouths, spitting out seeds, letting the juice run down their faces. FRANKIE spits a seed at DA VEY. HE spits one at her. A game. DAVEY suddenly leans forward and licks the juice off FRANKIE's face, impulsively. Short beat. Then FRANKIE kisses him with passion. THEY look at each other surprised, giddy, breathing hard. Another deep kiss. A MAN appears in the shadows upstage, watching them. He wears ragged clothes, his hair wild and his eyes crazed.) Oh. DAVEY. Kinda like being hungry.

FRANKIE. This is the best watennelon there ever was.

WATERMELON MAN. (Deep voice, southern accent) I

hadda boy used to steal melons all the timeDAVEY. (Reacts, scared, jumps up) Hey! WATERMELON MAN. (Continuing, approaching them) - boy looked just like you, 'cept his hair was black and he was fat. Used to whup that boy, whup him so good. Yankees got him at Chickamauga. Bullets fly ev­ erywhere. He was a hero.

DAVEY. She's . . . blind. WATERMELON MAN. The Yankees get her? DAVEY. No, she's just blind. She's my kid sister. WATERMELON MAN. (Laughs lewdly) Ooh, you do in' your sister dirty, boy, you kissin' her like that. (Beat. HE comes closer.) Y'all got a hungry look. Come on home with me. I got spring lamb, that red blood taste make your mouth melt. Spice apples. Mustard greens. Sweet puddin'. I make it with cornstarch, sugar, and the Widow Bennington's vanilla beans. She's always wantin' me to do her dirty, but I never do. It's a sin. FRANKIE. You make sour milk corn pone? WATERMELON MAN. Ooh, now don't that sound good. (Reaches out to touch her. DA VEY slaps his hand away.) What's your sister's name, boy? DAVEY. Priscilla. WATERMELON MAN. (Reaches out to touch FRAN­ KIE again) She's pretty. DAVEY. (Stops him) Hey. WATERMELON MAN. (Pushing toward FRANKIE) She's blind. She's Frankie the Blind Girl. (Reaches for her. DAVEY grabs him. THEY struggle.) 'DAVEY. No! FRANKIE. (Rises, unsteady, still giddy with hunger) Davey. Davey. . DAVEY. Frankie, run! Run! Run! Run!

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(THE WATERMELON MANgrabs DAVEY. HE holds . him. FRANKIE runs into the shadows upstage, pan­ icked. SHEfalls, scrambles to herfeet, wild with fear, crying out. NOTE: if six actors are used, FRANKIE should run through FRANCES' living room, spraWl­ ing infront ofFRANCES.)

(FRANKIE's laughing lightly. The AlAN looks at her, frowning.) DAVEY. Frankie, sh. WATERMELON MAN. What the hell's the matter with her?

I

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THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

WATERMELON MAN. Aha! I know who you are! You're Frankie the Blind Girl! I knew it right off! I want that reward! Your Papa's rich! And I got your boyfriend here! (Dragging DA VEY into the shadows. LIGHTS roll.) You'll never find your way out of these woods alone! I got your boyfriend! Frankie! Come on home! I got him good! Gonna whup this boy good! Frankie!!!

comment, a very offensive remark, about you and that radio storyteller, that Davey Quinn. FRANCES. Oh. VOICE. (Offstage) Hey! Frankie the Blind Girl! JAMES. (Steps/orward,face wild, shaking hisfist) You shut up your filthy mouth!!! FRANCES. James, sh. What happened with Benny? JAMES. I struck him repeatedly on the fist with my head. I was very angry. FRANCES. (Covers her mouth with her hand, laughing) Oh, James. JAMES. Yes, it is very amusing. I've been laUghing all day. My congregation will disown me. FRANCES. No, they won't. JAMES. I'll never go in that church again. Never. FRANCES. James. I think the congregation will be very proud of you. J AMES. (After a pause) You are Frankie the Blind Girl. You never told me. Everybody's talking about it. They're saying things about you. Frankie. Frankie. FRANCES. That's not my name, James, please. JAMES. (Yells childishly, pointing at FRANCES) FRANKIE THE BLIND GIRL!!!

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(VOICESjlying at us:) Boy. Miss Reed, Miss Reed! Hey! Are you Frankie the Blind Girl? You know, like on the radio? GOSSIPMONGER. Well. She hasn't denied it, as far as I've heard. I think it's scandalous, to think someone like that is teaching the children. Teaching them what? I shudder to think. I'm going to ask her myself. Miss Reed. Oh, Miss Reed! PASSERBY. Hey, Frankie! Where's Davey, eh? Boy. Frankie the Blind Girl! GOSSIPMONGER. The poor Reverend James, can you imagine how he feels? JAMES. Frances! (LIGHTS roll. A street. FRANCES is walking alone. SHE stops.) Frances! (JAMES enters, running, sweaty, in a state, hooting asthmatically.) Hoo. Hoo. Hoo. Hoo. Frances. Hoo. Hoo. FRANCES. James, be careful ofyour asthma. You're all sweaty, I can smell you across the street. Whafs-? (Touches his/ace. Hejlinches.) James! You have a black eye! JAMES. I'm finished in this town! FRANCES. What happened? JAMES. That swine, that Benny Adler! FRANCES. It's so odd to hear you talk like that. JAMES. He is an oinking pigl He made a suggestive

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(A cacophony o/VOICES, as the LIGHTS VOICES. Frankie the Blind Girl! Hey, Frankie! Look at her, it's Frankie the Blind Girl! Hey, Frankie, where's Davey, huh!? Et cetera. WATERMELON MAN. (Overlapping with the above) Frankie the Blind Girl!! I got your boyfriend locked up! Any boy kisses his sister like that deserves to be locked in a shed!! Come on outa these woods! VOICES. FRANKIE THE BLIND GIRL!!!

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THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

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(KNOCKING from offstage)

FRANCES. Yes, some of them. LEON. I don't believe my luck. Frankie the Blind Girl. FRANCES. Ohhhhhhh!!! Look-Listen, Miss Reed. I got a proposition for you. VOICES. (A crescendo) FRANKIE THE BLIND your lucky day. This is GIRL!!! FRANCES. Mister Schwab.

LEON. Huh?

(More KNOCKING. LIGHTS resolve. FRANCES'liv­ FRANCES. Do you know Davey well?

ing room. The room is dark. PRANCES stands LEON. Yeah, sure. We're partners.

alone, trying to calm herself. A beat) FRANCES. Davey doesn't know you're here, does he?

LEON. (Opens his mouth, about to lie, thenfesses up)

FRANCES. (Finally) Yes? No. LEON. (Offstage) Miss Reed? Miss Frances Reed? FRANCES. You're his partner. (Enters, looking around. HE sees Frances and tries LEON. I discovered him. (FRANCES touches Leon on again, in a louder voice.) Hello! Are you Miss the face. HE flinches, surprised, drawing back. Frances-? FRANCES explores his face, gently, with her hand. FRANCES. I'm only blind. LEON tenses up, struggling to hold back tears, eyes LEON. (Laughs nervously) Oh. Ha, ha. closed tight. FRANCES takes her hands away. Tense FRANCES. You're from New York. beat. Then LEONfinally relaxes, with an audible sigh.) LEON. Yes, I am. That's very good. Hoo. FRANCES. Please come in. FRANCES. Are you alright, Mister Schwab? LEON. You're Miss Frances Reed? LEON. Oh, sure, I'm fine. I have a little trouble sleep­ FRANCES. Yes. Please sit down, Mister.... ing. I haven't slept since I was twenty one. Mister . . . ? FRANCES. Did you bring me a ticket? LEON. (Staring) Huh? Oh. Leon Schwab. Pleased to LEON. (Surprised) Well, yeah. meet you, at your service and delighted. FRANCES. How did you find me? FRANCES. I've been expecting you. LEON. Someone called me at the hotel. LEON. Am I . . . disturbing you, Miss Reed? FRANCES. Missus Lockley? FRANCES. No. LEON. I promised I wouldn't­ LEON. Miss Reed, could you turn on a light? FRANCES. It doesn't matter. FRANCES. Oh, of course.

(Turns on a LAMP. The room is lit.) LEON. (Smiles) You're really Frankie? You? Listen, is all that stuff true, alIa them stories? You heard the stories?

(Holds our her hand. LEON takes an envelope out ofhis pocket, puts it in her hand. SHE clutches it. Tense beat. It's a charged moment for both ofthem.) FRANCES. Mister Schwab, is this a pUblicity ruse, or is

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

it something you're doing for Davey? (Beat. No response from LEON) It wouldn't make any differenceo A day hasn't gone by in all these years that I haven't thought about Davey. LEON. (Suddenly) They put us outa business! License to broadcast, it's communism! And now he's every­ where. He needs me. He's been looking for you every­ where, but I found you. Me. Ha. (Getting his bravado back. Laughs) Frankie and Davey reunited after all these lonely years apart. Brought together by the magic of the ether. I'm a genius. FRANCES. (After a moment) The world is a strange place, isn't it, when wooden boxes can pull ghosts out of the sky. Mister Schwab, where will this ticket take me? LEON. Oh. Kansas City. Muellbach Hotel. There's twenty dollars expense money in there. Kinda guy I am. FRANCES. You'd better go. LEON. You're really gonna come? FRANCES. Good-bye, Mister Schwab. LEON. (Stands) Oh. Thank you, Miss Reed. I'll expect you soon. (Goes to the door, stops, turns) Miss Reed, there's a . . . priest outside, he's pacing up and down. Talking to himself. FRANCES. He's praying. And he's Methodist. LEON. He okay? FRANCES. Oh, he's fine. Just don't let him pick a fight with you. And don't tell him about . . . (Holds up the ticket) LEON. Bye, Miss Reed.

about Frankie. And the answer is . . . This is a big country. Filled with all kinds a things we can't imagine. I spent a good part of my life baking in the Sandhills sunshine. So that's the answer. The sun, and the fact that I'm forty some strange years old. Frankie doesn't exist. FRANCES. (Laughs, hard, a release) Oh! DAVID. But, God, I miss her. What? Oops. Ain't sup­ posed to say God. This new Federal Communications Commission. Lord, I miss her. Thanks to everybody here at KTC. I've enjoyed my stay and I'm offto Kansas City and I'm talking real fast on accounta this fella here's waving his arms like maybe the place is on fire. Thank you. God bless.

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(ExiiS. LIGHTS roll. Night. DAVID enters. HE stands close to FRANCES but doesn't look at her as HE speaks.) DAVID. (On the radio) Lotsa folks been askin' me

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(Exits. SFX,from off: a CRASH,followed by a CRY of pain.) FRANCES. (Stands, frightened) Who is it!? Who's there?! JAMES. (Offstage, an asthmatic wheeze) Hoo! Hoo! FRANCES. James? JAMES. (Enters, brightly) Hi! FRANCES. What are you doing here? JAMES. Hey. You're not wearing your glasses. FRANCES. (Turns, feels for them, self-conscious) Oh.

(JAMES grabs her, turns her, trying to look into her eyes. FRANCES struggles.) JAMES. I've never seen you without your glasses on. You're so beautifuL You don't know how beautiful you are. FRANCES. Yes, I do. JAMES. No! You're blind! How could you know!? (FRANCES struggles. JAMES holds her.) Benny Adler

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THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

came by to tell me you've made reservations on the ten twelve to Kansas City. You're going to see that Davey Quinn. FRANCES. Please let me go. JAMES. Frances, I cannot allow you to do this. FRANCES. James. JAMES. If you go to Kansas City, if you allow yourself to become entangled in that web of . . . fiction, then I will recommend to the other members of the school board that you be dismissed. I have a responsibility to the children of this community and I cannot allow them to be sullied byFRANCES. You're hurting me. JAMES. (Lets her go) Oh.l'm sorry. Frances, I have no choice in this­

don't remember a thing until I stepped out onto the platform in Kansas City. The city whirling around me, like a nightmare.

(FRANCES puts on her glasses, picks up her white cane and swings it at James, truly trying to hit him. The cane whistles through the air. missing him by inches. HE stumbles backward. Beat. FRANCES breathes shallowly. ) JAMES. Ah, God! Frances, I love you so. (Moves toward her. SHE raises the cane. HE stops. Then kneels.) Oh, Lord. Please protect and guide Miss Frances Reed on this journey into the past. Give her strength. Please don't let her destroy me. Her name is Frances, not Frankie.

(LIGHTS roll.· JAMES exits. FRANCES moves into position.) FRANCES. The train moved as quickly and as silently as the trains in my dreams, the trains I ride with Davey. I

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(LIGHTS roll. We're back in the suite at the Muellbach Hotel. As before: FRANCES stands at the suite's door; and LEON is peering through the peephole. DA VID sits. LEON goes to DAVID and excitedly drags him to the door.) LEON. Whoo! C'mere!

DA VID. Leon.

LEON. Come here! You won't believe this, Davey

Quinn, you won't believe what I've done for you. DA VID. Leon, please, I'm tired. LEON. C'mere! I've solved your problems! C'mere!

(Positions DAVID, then dramatically opens the door. DA VID stares at FRANCES. LEON smiles triumphantly. ) FRANCES. Mister Schwab? Is that you? Are you . . . ? DA VID. Oh my God! FRANCES. (turns toward David) Davey?

(DAVID exits, quickly, into the suite bedroom, LEON following. ) LEON. Hey! Davey! Hey! Hey!!! (Covers his face with his hands) I'm going to die now. FRANCES. Leon? Mister Sc~ab? LEON. Yeah. C'mon in. FRANCES. (Enters, holding out her hand) Hello.

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THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

LEON. Oh. (Shakes her hand, closes the door) How was your trip? FRANCES. Very pleasant, thank you. Davey's upset. LEON. You could say that. FRANCES. So am I. I'm shaking. The room is charged with him. He's in the bedroom? Oh, dear. LEON. You want some whisky? FRANCES. No, thank you, but I would like to sit down. LEON. Oh, sure, make yourself comfortable. Oh. Sorry. (Takes her arm and steers her, rather clumsily, to a chair) You look real nice, Miss Reed. FRANCES. Thank you. LEON. (Crosses to the bedroom door) Davey, don't be stupid, it's alright! The way things are going today, he's on his way down the fire escape. (Looks out the window) No. Didn't jump either. Things is looking up. FRANCES. I've come at an awkward time. LEON. With Quinn you got no choice. But, yeah, we are having a few problems and I might have to shoot him. You're the best thing that could have happened. You're beautiful. Davey! FRANCES. This room is full of money. LEON. You smell it? FRANCES. Your hands are thick with it. Money is magic. American magic. You have to be very careful with magic. Radio is magic. Mister Schwab, I'm very frightened. LEON. Don't worry, he's just making up his face. It'll be alright. (Enters the bedroom. From off:) You're em­ barrassing me. Came on. She's not gonna go away. Come on. Come on! (DA VID enters. A tense, charged

for you to meet Davey Quinn, the voice of the prairie. Davey, this is Miss Frances Reed, of Mountain Home, Arkansas. Isn't this wonderful? Davey, Tell her God bless. (Beat. DA VID doesn't move) I found her. You been out being famous and I been solving all your prob­ lems. Lookit her, you're not even looking at her. It's Frankie the Blind Girl. (Another beat. LEONgrows agi­ tated) All you do is, you pull her out of the air, but I found her. Go on, tell her God bless. Tell herDAVID. (Whirls abruptly, with sudden passion) What happened to you?! FRANCES. What? DAVID. You just disappeared! All this time, I didn't know if you were a dream, or if I was crazy! All these. years, I didn't know! All these years! FRANCES. Oh, God! Oh!!! DAVID. What happened!?! You just left! I thought you died! I waited for days! Frankie! FRANCES. You were the one who went offby yourself and got caught stealing a green watermelon! You and your stupid stomach! DAVID. We had to eat! FRANCES. We did not! When we were together we were invisible! I told you that, you silly little kid, but you were too stupid to believe me! DAVID. What happened to you!? FRANCES. Ohhhhhh!!! (Beat. Silence) LEON. (Finally) I'm going to order some champagne. (Grabs the phone, dials) Miss Reed, you like crab looey? FRANCES. What? LEON. It's excellent. It's all I been eating. (Into the phone) Hello, this is Leon Schwab, suite 2428, we need some crab looey, right away, and listen. Yo:ugot any of that champagne left? Gimme a bottie, I don't care . . .

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moment. DA VID doesn't look at Frances. FRANCES grips her cane.) Well, okay. He's here. He looks a little pale, but what the hell, this is exciting. Miss Reed, I'd like

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(DA VID is approaching LEON, angry, threatening; LEON backs away.) ... what it costs. (DAVID grabs the phone. LEON moves away. Fake hearty bravado:) Well, what a banner day. Miss Reed, we got some very good news today. We been invited to New York, to ap­ pear on the new National Broadcasting Company. And now you. (Still dodging DAVID, who's/urious) Hey. Do you realize what a publicity goldmine this is? This is the stuff of legends. Movies. What's wrong? DAVID. (Grabs LEON by the collar) Why didn't you tell me!? LEON. (Surprised by his vehemence) Huh? DAVID. How could you do this without­ LEON. You were gone! DAVID. -telling me? LEON. And you were looking for her everywhere, I thought you'd beDAVID. I've been telling stories, I haven't been­ LEON. Admit it! DAVID. Leon! LEON. You're gonna ruin my suit! DAVID. (Shoves him away) I'm not going to New York, not with you! LEON. What? (LEON's devastated. Moment. DA VID turns away, breathing hard.) What . . . what're you talking about? You need me. I . . . I discovered you. How can you ? FRANCES. Mister Schwab. Leon. LEON. Huh? FRANCES. Could you leave us alone? LEON. What? FRANCES. Please. LEON. Leave? FRANCES. Please.

LEON. He goes to New York, and I go to jail. Tell her about Sneed, tell her about Miss Emily. Go on, I dare ya! (At the door) I'll be in the lobby. Dying. (Exits. A long moment.) FRANCES. Eight steps away. (Beat) So you're furious with Frankie. You've been seething, all those years, and now you're getting even, shouting at the sky, "Frankie! Frankie!" You can throw your voice hundreds of miles and you don't even have to yell. You're a weird little kid! (Beat) Well, I'm sorry. Normally, I'm very polite. (An­ other beat. FRANCES breathes shallowly. DA VID looks at her, then moves toward her.) Seven. Six. Five. Four. Stop. (DA VID stops. Moment. Then he goes to her, kneeling in/ront 0/ her.) Oh my God. (FRANCES hesi­ tates, then touches him gently.) Your hair. (Beat) Your stomach. (Cries softly now. Beat. Then the PHONE rings. FRANCES reacts, startled.) Oh! DAVID. Damn it. (Grabs the phone) Leon, is that you? JAMES. (Offstage, hysterical) Swine! Donkey! If you touch her, or if you attempt to poison her with your perverted visions of the past, a past that means nothing! Nothing! Do you understand me!? You storyteller!!! DAVID. (To FRANCES) It's for you. JAMES. (OJl) Liar! Liar! Liar! I'll . . . I'll . . . I tell you, I won't be responsible for what happens! (A full blown asthma attack) Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! FRANCES. (Takes the phone, listens/or a beat) James. JAMES. Frances? Oh, Frances, I have the most won­ derful news. The bishop has offered me a new congrega­ tion, in Arizona. He understands the pressure I've been under. All I need is a change of pace. Some fresh desert air. There are Indians in Arizona! Won't that be interesting? FRANCES. Where are you?

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JAMES. In the lobby of the Muellbach Hotel. I fol­ lowed you. I was sitting five rows behind you. So I know how frightened you are. I'm coming up now to get you. Suite 2428. Oh, Frances. How I love you. More and more each day. You have to marry me now. There's nothing else you can- (FRANCES hangs up.) FRANCES. Davey-Do you mind if I call you that?

DAVID. No.

FRANCES. There's a madman coming up to the suite.

DAVID.Oh.

FRANCES. Yes.

DAVID. We better go.

FRANCES. Yes, I think you're right. (Quick beat) Oh,

Lord, Let me have your arm. Let's hurry.

(FRANCES takes his arm. LIGHTS roll.) JAMES. Frances! Frankie! Frances!

(A scurry ofactivity. LAUGHTER. SFX: a SQUAWK­ ING CHICKEN.) DAVID AND FRANCES. (singing, loud, off-key) When Irish eyes are smiling Sure, 'tis like a morn in spring JAILER. (An old man) Shaddup! DAVID AND FRANCES.

In the lilt of Irish laughter

You can hear the angels sing

(THEY laugh. LIGHTS roll. A darkjail. The JAILER is trying to put FRANCES and DAVID, still giddy, into a cell.) JAILER. (To Frances) Come on.

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FRANCES. No! No, oh Lord, please, no! Oh, the shame of it! JAILER. (Reacts, frightened) Hey, c'mon. lady, it's­ DAVID. I won't let 'em touch you, darlin', 1'11­ JAILER. (Overlapping) Nobody's touchin' nobody! DAVID. -die before I let 'em at you! JAILER. Shaddup! Shaddupl (Finally herds FRANCES and DAVID into the cell, closes and locks the door, keyring jangling) Dang! (DA VID and FRANCES are laughing.) I don't know what you two thought you were doin', stealin' the sheriffs chickens and the sheriff settin' right there on the porch. FRANCES. I didn't see him. JAILER. (After a pause) Right. What's your excuse? DAVID. Blinded by love. JAILER. You from New York? DAVID. Nebraska. JAILER. Nebraska. Dang. Now, look. I'm gonna set over there and read my Herald Tribune. I don't care to be disturbed and I don't care to hear any foul language. This is what I tell everyone. Stealing the sheriffs chickens. FRANCES. I wanted to see if I still could. I can't. (JAILER exits, shaking his head. FRANCES suddenly laughs. Light, high and bubbly-a release. SHE stops laughing abruptly. SHE covers her mouth with her hand.) Oh my God, (I'm in jail! I really don't think the school board is going to understand. (Laughs again, gig­ gles; she can't stop herself.) NOTE: if the play is being performed with three actors, the following version ofthe final scene should be used. A slightly different version of the final scene follows, in an appendix, and that version should be used when the play is done with more than three performers.

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DAVID. I looked for you, for years. I travelled every­ where, doing farm work, doing petty thievery, going to homes for the blind, asking everyone. I even talked to your father, a couple times. FRANCES. Papa's still alive. Too crazy too die. DAVID. For years, Frankie. I Just . . . kept you with me. I didn't talk to anyone but you. I thought I was crazy. But then Leon came along and it turns out everyone is crazy. And now they want me to go to New York and do this in front ofmillions ofpeople. (Beat) What happened to you? Suddenly you were gone. It was like going blind. Do you remember that night? FRANCES. (Laughs again, suddenly) Oh!

DAVID. (Surprised) What?

FRANCES. I could see that night! I could see~ It was

wonderful. It was the best gift Davey gave me. (DA VEY enters. HE curls up on the floor, between DA VID and FRANCES, asleep. FRANCES slowly moves toward DAVEY) I was so hungry, I tloated out ofthose woods. A stream. Downstream to a road. Still warm from the sun. To the left. I know it's to the left. Then a hole in the wind, as it blows around a house. Here. Davey's here. Cooked cabbage. Raw whisky. A reeking outhouse. Something dead in the barn! Davey! Davey! No. (Sits, by DA VEY) He's here. Oh, I can see you dreaming! It's . . . pin­ pricks of light, like when you press on your eyes, but it doesn't hurt. The lights don't move. Stars. (Growing more excited and animated, more youth/ul- becoming FRANKIE. Takes oflher glasses) And a fire. It must be a fire. It's hot. An old man laughing. Those must be his eyes! I can see his eyes! DAVEY. (Wakes with a start) Poppy!

(LIGHTS roll. Night. A shed. DAVEY's inside. FRAN­

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KIE's crouched by the door, outside. Throughoutthe following, FRANKIE's giddy and lightheaded. NOTE: depending on the set, it might be effective for DA VEY to be invisible, inside the shed, throughout the following scene.) FRANKIE. It's me, stupid.

DAVEY. Frankie!

FRANKIE. Yeah.

DAVEY. How'd you find me!?

FRANKIE. You think I'm really dumb, don't you? I

could smell you, you're so scared. DAVEY. I am not. FRANKIE. You are. DAVEY. Open the door. FRANKIE. I can't. DAVEY. Sure. Maybe he left the key in the lock. He's really stupid. Smash the hinges with something. FRANKIE. I can't. DAVEY. Whassamatter? FRANKIE. I feel wonderful. Gimme your fingers, under the door. Your fingers, come on.

(They touch. Beat) DAVEY. Frankie, we gotta get goin'. FRANKIE. Davey, think about me. Think about what I look like. I wanna see myself. DAVEY. (Snatches his hand away, disturbed by this) Cut it out. FRANKIE. (Searching for his fingers) Oh! Touch me! Touch me and think about what I look like. DAVEY. You're not gonna die, are you? Don't die. FRANKIE. I won't. Just touch me.

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DAVEY. (Touches her fingers) Okay. FRANKIE. Tell me what I look like. DAVEY. You're . . . blind. FRANKIE. (Patiently) I know that. DAVEY. You have . . . brown hair, and it's soft, like -like-like-You remember how soft the grass was on that cliff in Missouri? You'reFRANKIE. (Screams) Oh! Oh! Yes! I can see her! I can see her! DAVEY. (Scared) Frankie, sh. Sh! FRANKIE. She's gone. Think about her again. DAVEY. You gotta be quiet. That guy'll­ FRANKIE. That guy's been beatin' on you. DAVEY. (Hesitates) Yeah. He's been trying to make me go find you in the woods. He really wants your papa's reward. FRANKIE. Does it hurt? DAVEY. (Lies) No. He giggles like a girl when he does it. FRANKIE. Davey. What's the moon look like? DAVEY. The moon? (Beat. Laughs lightly) The moon looks like the way you laugh when you jump off the boxcar into the wind, only the moon is hot, and crazy, andFRANKIE. (Screams) Oh! I can see it! Davey! I can see it! DAVEY. Frankie, sh! Sh. You gotta stop feeling so wonderful. You're just hungry. We gotta get me outa here, no more messing around. Listen, I was remember­ ing how Poppy told me he had a friend in the circus. A clown. You could be Frankie the Death Defying Blind Girl. How's that sound? Maybe you could find a pickaxe out there. FRANKIE. (Very light-headed now) Davey.

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

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DAVEY. Huh? FRANKIE. What do you look like? DAVEY. What? FRANKIE. Tell me what you look like. (Beat. DA VID moves toward FRANKIE. FRANKIE glances toward David, urgently.) Quick. Tell me. DAVEY. Is he coming? FRANKIE. Tell me. DA VEY. I . . . don't know. FRANKIE. You never looked in a mirror? DAVEY. Poppy was ascared a mirrors. FRANKIE. (Incredulous) You mean you don't know!? You gotta tell me, so I can remember you! DAVEY. Whaddaya mean!? FRANKIE. He's coming! DAVEY. (Frightened) Hey! FRANKIE. Tell me! (DAVID approaches her.) DAVEY. I'm . . . skinny. FRANKIE. I know, that, dummy! Think about how you look, think about yourself. I want to see you! DAVEY. My hair is . . . brown, and I'm ugly, and dumb, and Poppy says I laugh like a demon from hell.

(DA VID grabs FRANKIE/FRANCES roughly, pulling her to herfeel, turning her, pulling her away from the shed.) FRANKIE/FRANCES.Ohhhhhhhhh! DAVEY. Frankie!!! FRANKIE!!! DAVID. (Holding FRANCES) We could've gotten away! We could've gone on! DAVEY. FRANKIE!!! (DA VEY exits, running, panicked) FRANCES. We did go on! Have you been dead the last thirty years? Have you spent all that time agonizing over

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something like that? Have you really? You poor kid! (Beat) Davey. You're hurting me.

(HE lets her go. Bem. SHE moves away, qUickly puts on her dark [{lasses.)

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

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DAVID. That's not the only thing he stopped.

(Touches her. SHE reacts, startled)

FRANCES. Oh! Oh. (THEY kiss. A long moment. JAILER enters. He sees FRANCES andDA VID kissing, DAVID. Why do you wear those glasses? reacts.) FRANCES. I have to. JAILER. Aw, dang it. (DAVID and FRANCES move DAVID. Frankie never did. I keep tellin' 'em we need two cells in this place. apart.) FRANCES. Some people are afraid of blind people's (Opens the cell door, keys jangling) You got a visitor. eyes. Children especially. (HE reaches out to take offthe Bailin' you out. Fella name a . . . Schwab. I don't glasses. FRANCES flinches, pulls away) No. No. think he's got all his dogs barkin'. For one thing, he's got DAVID. I have to see you! a rol1 a money like a softbalL Another thing is, he keeps makin' all these . . . kitten noises. (FRANCES moves away. sits, hesitates, then removes DAVID. He's from New York. the glasse5;, It's a charged-sexually charged­ JAILER. Ah. Ugly fella. Mind ifI send him in? moment. SHE/aces DAVID.) FRANCES. Tel1 him how nice he looks in his suit. JAILER. Eh?

FRANCES. I kept waiting for Davey to rescue me. But DAVID. Send him in. (JAILER leaves. DA VID stands,

he never came. And then they taught me to read. That's Too old to be a kid hobo.

slowly.) how you jump from world to world. Everything else is FRANCES. I'm very hungry.

crazy. Dangerous. (Beat) The sensation of those words DAVID. Maybe Leon brought the crab looey.

exploding off my fingers, it was wonderful. I almost for· Frances-

got about Davey. (Beat. Upset) Do you see me? Do you FRANCES. Davey. Sh.

see me now? DAVID. Corne to New York with me. (LEON enters.) FRANCES. What? DA VID. Come to New Y­ LEON. Oh. Cozy. (DA VID and FRANCES move FRANCES. Davey. (Moves away, nervously) I must say, Very sweet. If this ain't the greatest country on apart.) it's very unpleasant in here. I can't wait to take a bath. earth. Even the jails are veritable lovenests. I can't wait. DAVID. FrancesOf course, Leavenworth might not be so quaint. How's FRANCES. Please, 1- (Quick beat) Frankie and the food? Fried chicken, I hear. (FRANCES approaches Davey were crazy! That man, he stopped me from seeing Ifit ain't Susan B. Anthony in dark glasses. him.) you. I forgave Papa, but I'll never forgive him. FRANCES. My name is Miss Emily. (Takes his hand) I

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see a long journey to a holy city filled with blind people. I hear music, and laughter, and the crisp sound of paper money. You will be lucky in life, but not, alas, in love .. (Lets his hand go) Miss Emily loves you. LEON. You'll . . . ? I mean, you'll be . . . ? Really? FRANCES. Yes. LEON. Oh! Oh! Miss Reed! How can I-? Oh, I don't believe it! This is wonderful! Davey! We're not going to jail! (Quick beat) Okay. Sneed's coming Monday. We gotta rehearse. We'll get you a black dress, and some whaddaya call it, some rouge. You're an angel! (Suavely) Please. Tell me how I can repay you. FRANCES. Give me all the money. LEON. (After a slight pause, a cry of heart-rending agony) Aaaggghhh!!! FRANCES. They could build a new school. The one they have now is falling apart. With the Miss Emily money, I bet they could do it. LEON. Let's seeLet's see . . . if we can . . . come to an agreement. DAVID. All the money, Leon. LEON. Fifty percent. Fifty percent! Did I just say fifty percent!? Rip the tongue out of my head! (Whirls tdface DAVID, bitterly.) You lousy- (Stops. Beat) A long journey. New York, We're going to New York. You and me. To New York. Say yes, or I'll kill you. DAVID. Long journeys are where I live. LEON. Did he just say yes? Miss Reed? Why can't I talk to these people!? DAVID. I need you, Leon. Hillbilly like me, I'd be lost inside of five minutes. LEON. You're a hick! A stupid farmer! You said yes, right? DAVID. Yes.

THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

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LEON. Whoo! And write the stories down? Come on.

DAVID. Yes. I'll write the stories down.

LEON. We're going to New York! Whoo!

(Exits. DAVID and FRANCES are alone. A moment, then DA VID takes her arm and leads her slowly out of the jail. As THEY exit, a RADIO VOICE fades in:) RADIO ANNOUNCER. The American Tobacco Com­ pany, makers of Dutch Masters Cigars and Lucky Strike cigarettes, would like to take this opportunity to thank the millions of people out there who've made the Davey Quinn Show such a success. (Exuent FRANCES and DAVID. LIGHTS roll) Remember, for a smooth taste that doesn't turn harsh, smoke Dutch Master Cigars! And now- (Enter DA VEY. HE lies on the stage) - for stories and laughter and all kinds offun, ladies and gents, Davey Quinn's the one! Here he is! Davey Quinn!

(SFX: an audience APPLAUDING enthusiastically. The sound builds, then fades. Silence.) WATERMELON MAN. (Whispers insidiously, in the shadows) Hey. Hey. You nightmare. Look at you. You little June bug shelL You snakeskin. DAVEY. Poppy? WATERMELON MAN. Eh? DAVEY. You're dead, Poppy. (WATERMELON MAN enters.) WATERMELON MAN. We're all dead. But in the meantime we jump when the blade comes through. (Laughs) C'mon. boy, get on outa this shed and on down the road where you belong.

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THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

DAVEY. I can't go without Frankie. WATERMELON MAN. Boy, you don't need nobody, 'cause if you do, the Yankees'll get 'em sure. Now get outa this shed!!!

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me feel welcome. Tune in next week, for more music, and more stories. (Beat) God bless. CURTAIN

(Comes downstage. Takes ofJhis hat. He's POppy now. SFX: a TRAIN whistle. The train approaches, pounding along the tracks, becoming loud, building quickly.)

APPENDIX: In a production using more than three actors, the follow­ ing ending should be used (see page 77) DAVID. I looked for you, for years. I travelled every­ where, doing farm work, doing petty thievery, going to homes for the blind, asking everyone. I even talked to your father, a couple times. FRANCES. Papa's still alive. Too crazy too die. DAVID. For years, Frankie. I just . . . kept you with me. I didn't talk to anyone but you. I thought I was crazy. But then Leon came along and it turns out everyone is crazy. And now they want me to go to New York and do this in front ofmillions ofpeople. (Beat) What happened to you? Suddenly you were gone. It was like going blind. Do you remember that night? FRANCES. (Laughs again, suddenly) Oh!

DAVID. (Surprised) What?

FRANCES. I could see that night! I could see! It was

wonderful. It was the best gift Davey gave me. (DA VEY enters. HE curls up on the floor, between DAVID and FRANCES, asleep. FRANCES slowly moves toward DA VEY. FRANKIE enters, moving slowly, dreamily, over FRANCES' speech.) I was so hungry, I floated out of those woods. A stream. Downstream to a road. Still warm from the sun. To the left. I know it's to the left. Then a hole in the wind, as it blows around a house. Here. FRANKIE. Davey's here.

POPPY. (In his brogue) There's Godlight in this boy's eyes. Sure, the fire of the Lord's love burns in his blood. DAVEY. Poppy. Poppy. POPPY. Catch this one, lad. DAVEY. I can't, Poppy. Goin' too fast. POPPY. Then fly. FRANKIE. (Enters, stands by DA VEY) Take us into the clouds. DAVEY. I can't. POPPY. Yes, you can, lad, you can fly! FRANKIE. The whole world'lliook up to see us fly! POPPY. Fly! Fly! POppy AND FRANKIE. Fly!!!

(SFX: the sound of the TRAIN crescendos. LIGHTS flashing. FRANKIE and DA VEY leap forward. And freeze, caught in shafts ofrich light. LIGHTS roll. A sound stage. DA VID steps in front ofa radio mike, now labelled NBC.) DAVID. And so I flew. Next thing I knew, I was telling stories to a radio microphone. So ... Well, the end, I guess. I'd like to thank the folks at the American To­ bacco Company, and all you folds at home, for making

'f~::

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THE VOICE OF THE PRAIRIE

FRANCES. Cooked cabbage. Raw whisky. A reeking outhouse. Something dead in the barn! Davey! FRANKIE. Davey! FRANCES. No. (FRANKIE sits by Davey. She's ex­ hausted, light-headed, yet smiling. FRANCES removes her dark glasses.) He's here. Oh, I can see you dreaming! It's . . . pinpricks oflight, like when you press on your eyes, but it doesn't hurt. The lights don't move. FRANKIE. Stars. FRANCES. And a fire. It must be a fire. FRANKIE. It's hot. FRANCES. An old man laughing. Those must be his eyes! FRANKIE. I can see his eyes! DAVEY. (Wakes with a start) Poppy!

FRANKIE. lean'to DAVEY. Whassamatter? FRANKIE. I feel wonderful. Gimme your fingers, under the door. Your fingers, come on.

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(LIGHTS roll. Night. A shed. DAVEY's inside. FRAN­ KlE 's crouched by the door, outside. Throughout the f.ollowing, FRANKIE's giddy and light-headed. NOTE: depending on the set, it might be effective for DA VEY to be invisible, inside the shed, throughout the following scene.) FRANKIE. It's me, stupid. DAVEY. Frankie! FRANKIE. Yeah. DAVEY. How'd you find me!? FRANKIE. You think I'm really dumb, don't you? I could smell you, you're so scared. DAVEY. I am not. FRANKIE. You are. DAVEY. Open the door. FRANKIE. I can't. DAVEY. Sure. Maybe he left the key in the lock. He's really stupid. Smash the hinges with something.

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