A Full Length Play
AGAINST THE DYING OF THE LIGHT
continued
By G. L. Horton
copyright © 2007
Geralyn Horton
SCENE FOUR: Joy's Dining Room
(BOB and the exhilarated Grannies celebrating post-performance at Joy's, some collapsing, some bouncing around, reprising the skit and song. Lights down as they move into place, continuing the "Nasty Song.")
Yes, we are singing/ This nasty song
Hope's what we're bringing/ So sing along!
Your Granny's angry / At the mess they've made. (lights up)
Let's right these wrongs!/ Join our parade!
BOB: Here's to you, ladies! Another triumph!
JOY: We were great!
AMY: What a blessed response! The best ever, I'd say.
DOLORES: You always say that.
JOY: Bob was out front, watching, and he agrees. Don't you, dear?
BOB: Absolutely. Best crowd ever.
DOLORES: Bob always agrees.
AMY: The audience all joined in the choruses!
VERONICA: The ones close up.
BOB: They all joined "If I Had a Hammer".
EMMA: That's the most familiar one.
DOLORES: Is it? Folk songs and flower children were so long ago.
EMMA: Seems like yesterday to me.
DOLORES: Marijuana messes up a person's memory.
BOB: I have great memories. I drew #363 in the draft lottery, so from then on I could relax and enjoy the Summers of Love.
JOY: Bob! You enjoyed what?
BOB: We've talked about that, dear. Most of your friends did, too!
JOY: I admitted that?
EMMA: Not me! I was always on duty— like my Marxist parents before me. Union organizers in the thirties. People born after 1950 can hardly imagine how brain-dead this country was back then— all that Cold War purging and blacklisting.
DOLORES: What about you, Veronica? Bread and roses? Or wine and weed?
VERONICA: Neither, really. I married young.
DOLORES: I thought I detected a hint of hippie. Your hairdo?
VERONICA: Really? I just take the scissors and trim.
EMMA: I thought you said you marched against Vietnam?
VERONICA: My husband was older, and old-fashioned. But we had student friends who became draft resisters. And friends who were drafted came back to tell us the war was wrong.
AMY: Without the draft, people stay detached. It doesn't touch them.
BOB: That Marine today made a big impression.
EMMA: Timothy.
DOLORES: "Timothy"!? Daring them to throw him in the brig? Either he's some kind of undercover agent, or he's deranged.
JOY: Of course he's deranged! He has Post Traumatic Stress!
BOB: I don't know. The brig may beat going back to Iraq.
AMY: People know killing is wrong, and if they doubt that the war is just, they're traumatized! But all that cursing made him sound like a brute.
BOB: I didn't hear all that much cussing.
AMY: He used the f-word, he took the name of God in vain—
JOY: He said Iraq is Hell on earth. That's not a curse, it's a job description.
EMMA: He used milder language than I do!
AMY: Sometimes your language is offensive, Emma. But I know you, and I know your heart, so I forgive you. But if we want to appeal to people who have doubts about this war but are conservative otherwise—
BOB: War is obscene! Do you want to censor an eye-witness?
AMY: On the News it'll be one long bleep! Just his angry face, and his uniform.
BOB: Reminds me— I'd better get our mic out of the van. (exits)
EMMA: At least they let us use the sound system! Last time we were stuck out of range at the back of the stage, and the reporter wrote about our "frail Granny voices."
JOY: Frail! I ask you, Veronica. Are we frail?
VERONICA: Isn't frailty part of the Grannies' charm?
AMY: Blessed are the meek. The peacemakers.
JOY: It's one thing to look frail— frailish— but pitiful? Do you think we sound— ?
DOLORES: Compared to the rapper we do.
EMMA: Because he had the big fat phallic mic!
DOLORES: Face it. Without mics of our own, we're barely a back-up group.
AMY: More like a backdrop.
EMMA: His posse of bootie-shakers!
JOY: Pumping it up. "Resist!"
ALL: Resist! Shake your fist! Shake your fist! Shake it! Shake it! Shake it!
(ALL collapse in a heap of laughter)
JOY: Maybe we should have skits like Billionaires for Bush. Street theatre.
DOLORES: Street theatre's what we're doing! It's certainly not music.
AMY: Don't be such a snob, Dolores.
DOLORES: I'm not a snob. I sing with you, don't I? I join in the noise.
AMY: The Bible doesn't say sing like angels. "Make a joyful noise", it says. "Shout, O daughters of Jerusalem."
JOY: I dance with two left feet. But I can shout!
DOLORES: Loud's good. But in tune's even better.
EMMA: After three years, Dolores, you still don't get it. We're not Peter Paul and Mary. We're not even a Gay/Lesbian chorus, asserting our worth through Beauty. We're gadflies. The point of us is that we're not daunted. We do what we can— what anyone can!— and we make a difference. I think today proved we have a basis to build on, and I have a proposal to make—
(BOB walks in carrying a big cardboard box, pauses to listen.)
JOY: After something to eat, please! I'm famished.
AMY: Singing makes me happy. Best of all is singing well, with people you love.
VERONICA: (to Amy) Now I remember you! You're in the Community Chorus! I haven't heard you sing, really, you sit way on the other side—
AMY: Second soprano.
VERONICA: You must be good. To pass the audition.
AMY: I think I got in because the accompanist is my church choir director.
DOLORES: That would explain it!
JOY: You're never happy unless you're putting someone down, Dolores! Just S—T—F—U!
(STFU abbreviates Shut The F—k Up)
AMY: What'd she say? S—T what?
EMMA: Don't ask.
DOLORES: You might faint dead away.
ANY: Will somebody please tell me?
EMMA: Do you promise not to faint? (AMY nods, EMMA whispers, AMY is shocked.)
AMY: This is common knowledge? Said in public?
BOB: Don't you watch Jon Stewart?
VERONICA: What do you shout at the TV when the President's on?
AMY: I can't stand to hear him, so I turn down the sound—
ALL BUT AMY: (ad lib) Right! (or) That's it! Chimperator!
ALL TOGETHER: STFU!
AMY: The polls say Bush's below Nixon.
BOB: Even Republicans are whispering the I-word.
AMY: Hallelujah!
EMMA: From their lips to God's ears! There are rumors— I can't talk about it yet, this is a plan that needs to stay under the radar— but we may get a chance to tell the tyrant what we think of him. Face to face.
BOB: Not going to happen. Bush avoids blue states like the plague. (turns to exit)
AMY: (to BOB) Come back and join us. We're not rehearsing, just having fun.
BOB: I'll be back with fresh-baked brownies.
AMY: You baked them? Yum!
JOY: I know it's the custom to flatter my husband. But it's not compulsory, you know.
AMY: I'm sorry. Am I out of line?
BOB: Only members of the "I've-known-Bob & Joy-for-ages-club" get to flatter me.
JOY: You're getting close, though, Amy. We met back— when? 2002?
AMY: 2001, I think. At the Shelter. But I didn't meet Bob till the demonstration before the War.
BOB: Three or four years to go yet, Amy. Sorry. (exits)
EMMA: We forgive you, though. The temptation to flirt with Bob is really strong.
AMY: My husband's a wonderful man. He really is. He's on the board of charities, mentors the youth group, and personally he'll do anything for someone in trouble. He's always helping some widow who doesn't have a man around to mow her yard or clean out her storm drain. But expect him to put away a dish? Fold his own underwear? If I'm called away to the phone, he won't even put dinner on the table or dish it out for our grandchildren. He'll sit there, letting it all get cold, until I come back to serve them.
DOLORES: Ideally, I wouldn't cook. My husband's retired, I'm retired. But Sam hasn't a clue how to put together a meal for his diabetes, and I'm not ready to be a widow.
EMMA: My husband and I take turns. Of course, his nights are not exactly gourmet. Ensure shakes and bag of salad. Not good, but good for a laugh.
AMY: Laughter's important. I wouldn't mind the rest if Jim had Bob's sense of fun.
JOY: Laughter gives you energy.
EMMA: It also drains off the anger that drives change.
VERONICA: If anger turns inward, it eats away at you.
DOLORES: The Gaggle in Minnesota just pulled off a Rage Raid. Like a huge temper tantrum. Screams and sirens and firecrackers and drums and stomping feet and battering walkers. They tore up a recruitment center, threw blood all over, ripped up documents—!
JOY: Wow. I didn't see anything on the news about that.
VERONICA: I don't think the networks picked it up.
EMMA: Why not? It sounds perfect for Fox News: "Grannies on Rampage".
JOY: Did they get away with it?
DOLORES: They were arrested, but released on their own recognizance. Maybe it'll be on TV when there's a trial.
AMY: Especially with harsh sentences. Like the 3-1/2 years for Betty Krawcyzk.
VERONICA: What did she do, Betty —?
AMY: Krawcyck. The article should be in Rona's bag. Blue portfolio, outside pocket. I clipped it from the Times. (VERONICA fishes it out and reads it.)
EMMA: I'm okay with getting arrested in a publicity stunt, but at this point I can't do anything really criminal. It would reflect on the Union.
JOY: What about doing the Peninsula Grans thing? Going to our Representatives with calcium tablets? — saying, "grow a backbone!"
EMMA: Our reps HAVE backbones! Best liberals in the country!
JOY: Of course they are. What was I thinking?
EMMA: You're thinking: How can we make points? Not, how can we make friends? Don't scorn, organize.
BOB: (enters) I'm ready to serve. How many coffees? (hands up) Cocoa? (hands) Tea?
VERONICA: Is it herbal?
BOB: If you want. What kind?
VERONICA: Anything without caffeine. I have trouble sleeping.
(BOB turns to go, but DOLORES stops him)
DOLORES: How'd we do for bucks in the buckets, Bob?
BOB: Donations? Not so well. About $65.
DOLORES: $65?!
BOB: I'm afraid so.
VERONICA: Out of hundreds of people?!
EMMA: Maybe they don't have money to give! Students and retirees and workers who get fired for "attitude." Even professionals, or small business: go along, or you don't get.
JOY: It's not like this was a fundraiser. At Mechanic's Hall—
DOLORES: Maybe I should go home. My husband will be grumpy by now.
AMY: Has he taken a turn for the worse?
DOLORES: He's fine. But if I'm not watching him he snacks on junk. Not only bad for his blood sugar, but the indigestion keeps him awake all night.
BOB: Besides brownies, I've got no-sugar bran muffins. You can take your husband a health-food doggy bag. I'll be right back with the herbal tea.
AMY: That's a lot to carry. I'll come and give you a hand. (exits)
DOLORES: (to JOY) Aren't you going to go and keep and eye on her?
JOY: I've not moving. Dancing against the war has given me a new bunion.
DOLORES: $65 won't cover our new aprons. Better we each pay for our own.
JOY: I think we should just chip in and not say anything. Amy can't really afford—
DOLORES: She could if they didn't tithe.
VERONICA: Didn't what?
DOLORES: Her family tithes. Ten percent to that church of hers. It's some kind of a cult, always after money. Buy health, buy heaven, buy votes...
JOY: The members of Amy's church that I met were buying meals for the homeless. Serving them, too. At the shelter.
EMMA: And Mennonites are pacifist: no such thing as a "Good War" for them!
JOY: Which is why her daughter's marriage was such a shock.
VERONICA: Her daughter married— ?
JOY: Outside the church. To a soldier.
DOLORES: Do-gooders are all very well— as long as they don't assume their "goodness" buys them the right to make the rules. Amy has some nerve, forgiving you your language!
EMMA: (laughing) It's okay. I forgive her for forgiving me. But Amy was way out of line, putting our newbie on the spot. I could see how uncomfortable you were, Veronica.
VERONICA: People who quote scripture frighten me. There's a lot of them in the Community Chorus— choir singers. I know it's a prejudice, most of them are good people, but as I've told Rona a hundred times I haven't the kind of temperament to—
EMMA: Who does? The ideal is to be like family— but every family has somebody who tests the limits. A bigot, a funny uncle—
DOLORES: Are you talking about Amy, or me?
VERONICA: I think I'm the square peg—
EMMA: We all are! I know I'm the reason Barbara and her friends keep their distance. Rehearse separately, skip some gigs. We can still cooperate... where we agree.
DOLORES: So, Barbara's phobic about Socialism. If we have to convert the 90% who think Socialists are minions of Satan before we can stop a war—
JOY: It's not socialism. It's gays.
EMMA: What?
JOY: Barbara doesn't approve of your attitude towards gays.
EMMA: Doesn't approve of my—? What?
JOY: I haven't a clue. She said something about the Gaggle and Lesbians, and I couldn't tell if she meant we were too pro or too anti. I didn't have the nerve to question her.
EMMA: You've no idea which she meant?
JOY: Don't ask; don't tell.
DELORES: Well— we're all married. That might be a clue. And we meet at the house of the one who's most married of all.
JOY: So it's my fault? Thanks a lot.
EMMA: I guess I ought to do some fence-mending.
JOY: After all, some of our best friends are.... (they laugh helplessly)
DOLORES: On a similar note: Did we get any recruits?
JOY: Helen! We've got that wonderful Helen!
EMMA: We'll see. Helen says she can't start till next month, she's taking a class.
DOLORES: A class.
VERONICA: You think that's just an excuse?
JOY: Bob said dozens signed on to the mailing list.
DOLORES: If the wonderful Helen joins, that'll make up for Joan.
JOY: What's happened to Joan?
EMMA: She'll be back. She's just in Florida with her niece.
DOLORES: Joan's out. She broke her hip.
EMMA: But I heard—
DOLORES: Joan's fooling herself.
EMMA: You're such a pessimist. Sharon thought she'd never perform again. She's doing just fine.
DOLORES: Sharon had a hip replacement, not multiple fractures. Joan will be staying in Florida until she leaves in a box.
JOY: Laura won't be with us any more, either. She's moving to South Carolina to be near her daughter.
DOLORES: At least none of us has dropped dead on stage. Yet.
JOY: Rona will be back, won't she?
VERONICA: She says my subbing's a one-time thing.
DOLORES: Don't believe her! She'll try to suck you in.
JOY: What's wrong with her? You must have some idea.
VERONICA: All I know is that she sometimes seems disoriented. And she's seeing a doctor. But a prognosis...?
JOY: She said you're her best friend!
VERONICA: Did she? That's a little frightening. I mean, Rona is MY best friend. She's my librarian, my lifeline. The books she's put into my hands have kept me going, and talking with her gives me hope. But I'm a hermit. Rona ought to have friends by the dozens—
JOY: I think she does. We all love Rona... don't we?
DOLORES: Love's a strong word, and I don't know her that well, but no one is better company—
JOY: I enjoy her so, and the thought that she might—
EMMA: Old age is not for sissies. My mother is a holy terror, and that's probably why at 92 she's still bullying politicians and managing the family law firm.
DOLORES: That's exhausting just to think about! A law firm? At 92? My idea of hell.
JOY: Being active is good for us. I look 15 years younger than my mother at my age.
VERONICA: Are you all really grandmothers? You look way too young.
EMMA: Two grandkids. But I get carded on Public Transportation.
JOY: When I tried out with the Senior Chorus, they looked as if I had no right to be there.
DOLORES: Was this before or after they heard you sing?
(AMY & BOB re-enter with refreshments. JOY grabs a brownie.)
AMY: You'll have to come to the table— the kettle's really hot.
DOLORES: Where's the Sweet & Low?
BOB: We don't use it. Sorry.
AMY: Rona has some. Try her bag. (VERONICA rummages)
EMMA: In the zip-lock baggie?
VERONICA: Got it! (passes it)
DOLORES: Thank you, Rona!
JOY: These brownies are scrumptious! Husband, you've outdone yourself! (applause)
DOLORES: Your muffins look great, but I'm not sure I can get out of this chair to get one.
VERONICA: You're not the only one. I'm too old for choreography.
EMMA: Some things we don't do as well as we used to. But we do it. We're effective—
VERONICA: I would so like to believe that! I can't even listen to the radio. Bush says he'll do what he thinks is right, even if his approval drops to just Laura and the dog.
EMMA: Vietnam went on and on. We used up our youth: but we stopped it.
VERONICA: They cracked down so hard. I've often wondered? If we hadn't resisted and bruised their egos?— would they have been reasonable, and pulled out? Declared victory?
AMY: It's not like you have a choice, once you know something is wrong. You do what you can, or you lose your own soul.
DOLORES: I don't believe in souls. I believe in making the bastards pay.
EMMA: Old people vote. We need to turn old voters into activists. Young people are opposed, but they don't bother to register. Turn them on too, and nothing can stop us.
AMY: My nephew would love to be active, but he's says a truck driver can't make a living if once he's been arrested.
JOY: That can't be true, can it? Who would even know?
BOB: Not everybody is as secure as we are, Hon. Remember? Back when I started the business, I kept warning you we had to watch what we say and who we associate with. Easy to get on somebody's blacklist and watch the work dry up.
VERONICA: After my husband was turned down for a security clearance, he never got another decent job.
EMMA: If we hadn't worked for the Union, us, too. I've got an FBI file yea long.
AMY: I feel blessed, that I can step up and take the place of people who can't take a risk. Being a Deacon's wife, and the grandmother of 17—
DOLORES: Don't fool yourself. If the orders come down, and you go to jail? For every member of your congregation who'll stand by you, there'll be a dozen who draw back and say they "never really knew you that well"; "the police are just doing their job, protecting us".
VERONICA: So you all think this is the time for the Grannies?
BOB: They can't take away our Medicare.
DOLORES: They're trying. They want us living under bridges.
AMY: Friends from the church took truckloads of food down for Katrina. The stories they came back with you wouldn't believe!
DOLORES: There's nothing I'd put past this gang.
EMMA: Spying is right wing welfare. Vietnam, one out of every five activists was an informer.
AMY: You mean like FBI?
EMMA: Snitches. Paid by FBI. Local police, too. And they're still at it! The NYPD's undercover squad was all over the 2004 Republican Convention.
AMY: But not in harmless groups that help the poor. Not churches.
VERONICA: Of course churches! Back when I was a believer, my church had them! There are thousands of files on the Quakers alone.
AMY: Mennonite martyrs died for pacifism. But America has protected us! You think they've turned against us, now? And are spying? On us?
DOLORES: One out of five. Count heads.
JOY: Well, so what if there are infiltrators! The more the merrier!
DOLORES: As long as they can sing.
AMY: I'm glad you're here, Veronica. When Rona comes back, I pray you'll stay.
VERONICA: Rona may need me to be her driver.
EMMA: The more the merrier: That's our motto! A Gaggle in Iowa passes out hats and word sheets, gets women to come up onstage with them. Instant Granny! They recruit dozens!
AMY: We should have thousands! If someone like me can join—
VERONICA: Like you how?
AMY: A lifelong Republican? Who voted for Bush in 2000? Believing that he was a good Christian, a compassionate conservative who'd unite us—
BOB: He united us, all right.
EMMA: In fear and loathing.
DOLORES: Which is fine, as long as the loathing is strong enough to conquer the fear.
AMY: I don't want to loathe him! I want to love my enemy, even as I try with all my might to keep him from committing war and oppression and torture. I pray for George Bush. Just as I pray for the poor soldiers and the policemen.
DOLORES: How will you know if your prayers work?
AMY: I watch their faces. Like, on the news. Sometimes the police look angry, but sometimes it's more sorrow, like cuffing a protester makes him sick to his stomach.
DOLORES: That's the tear gas.
JOY: I don't think so! When a cop drags a Granny off to jail, people resent the cop and pity the granny.
EMMA: Fortunately, most people love their grandmothers.
VERONICA: Do they?
BOB: Grandkids are so much easier than children.
VERONICA: I've never had— My son— died young. His wife remarried and her new husband adopted Miles' baby.
AMY: I'm so sorry.
VERONICA: It was probably for the best. A relationship full of grief and anger—?
AMY: It's not too late! There is a balm in Gilead, that makes the wounded—
VERONICA: I'd rather not talk about it. (pause)
EMMA: All right, ladies! New assignment: recruit! Talk to prospects, at least one or two a week. Start with your friends, or the sign up sheet, or go door to door. The roaming mic thing got us Helen. Why not more? I mean, Helen does things on her own, with her we just join forces. But more passive types: Given a chance to speak out, to voice an opinion? They may commit.
JOY: You mean we should ask them to come to a rally and be interviewed?
EMMA: No. Interview them on the spot— their home, in church, wherever. Ask them if they think the country's on the right track, and record what they say.
AMY: You mean take notes?
EMMA: That's okay. But a voice recorder or camera would be better.
BOB: (excited) I've got Garage Band on our laptop. And some mp3 players will work as recorders, too. We'd probably need a couple of mini-mics, but they're dirt cheap—
EMMA: Now you're talking! This is just brainstorming— but it might turn into something big. We put our results on the Granny website—
BOB: Maybe up on YouTube. At least do podcasts.
EMMA: That's the spirit! If we come up empty, and that tells us something, too. Are you willing to try?
AMY: Sure.
VERONICA: I can't do anything like that.
DELORES: People can be brutal. Beyond the safe circle, the rejection—
VERONICA: I can deal with rejection. It's if they open up I can't handle.
DOLORES: Spare Veronica, Emma. If she'll just agree to sing a few times...
JOY: Can Bob and I do this together? We're a good team.
EMMA: Of course. Promise their opinions will be anonymous, if that's what they want. The Voice of the People. If they seem afraid, make a note of why. Otherwise, tell them we'll use what they say at a rally, or put it on the web site. Invite her to join us! Tell her we can put her anger to work. Offer her hope, and solidarity.
AMY: I know if I were to say it's like being a missionary you'd all cringe. But really, the personal heart-to-heart is powerful. It can pull a person up out of despair.
VERONICA: Rona's always saying something like that.
JOY: Veronica, would you pass me Rona's bag? (gets bag, looks in) There's a song I'd like us to try. A patriotic song: I just changed a few words. Good! Rona's made copies. It's not clever or timely or anything. Something to join people together. (passes it out)
AMY: (recognizing song) O, this is such a good idea!
DOLORES: Before that: When and where's the next rehearsal?
JOY: Here, a week from Friday. Can we try this once? Please?
VERONICA: I don't know if I'll be with you when—?
DOLORES: Veronica? STFU and sing. Amy, you want to start us?
AMY: You start us, Dolores. Bob, you should sing too. In place of all the men who'd join in from the audience.
O beautiful for spacious skies
With no more fighter planes
For purple mountains' majesty
Fields of organic grains
America, America, God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with sisterhood
From sea to shining sea.
JOY: Thank you! Even if we don't ever perform it, it felt really good to hear it.
DOLORES: You weren't half bad, Joy. You were actually singing alto.
JOY: I remember it from middle school chorus. I love that song.
EMMA: We can sing it. Especially if we add more voices. Recruit!
GO TO NEXT: SCENE FIVE
|
by 
