The Penguin Arthur Miller Page 5

  DAVID—for a long moment he stares into the Austrian’s face: How could you tell by listening?

  GUS: Same way you do for pistons. You know. You going to work now?

  DAVID, looks at the car: Ya.

  He hurries around the front of the car, picks up a wrench, comes around and sets the wrench on a heat nut and starts forcing it.

  GUS—hesitates for a moment, then lays his hand on David: Don’t take the head off. David stops. I mean . . . you don’t need to, necessarily. David stops moving. The wrench clatters out of his hand. He stands nearly trembling before the Austrian, who suddenly turns. I’ll go.

  DAVID, stops him: No, I always knew a time would come when . . . this would happen. I mean somebody like you would come, and then I’d just . . . pack up. I knew it all the time . . .

  GUS: That’s nonsense. You fixed plenty cars no doubt; you’re a mechanic . . .

  DAVID: No, I’m not really. I don’t know anything about metals and ratios and . . . I was almost going to tow it to the shop in Newton. Would you tell me what to do?

  GUS: Gladly. And maybe sometimes I need a hand you’ll drop by. All right?

  DAVID: Oh I’d be glad to.

  GUS, grips his shoulder and points under the car: First you take the pan down.

  DAVID—slight pause: Ya?

  GUS: Then you drop the bearings. Label them so you know where to put them back.

  DAVID: Ya?

  GUS: Then you drop the main bearings for the crankshaft.

  DAVID: Ya?

  GUS: Then you drop the shaft itself. Take it up to Newton, is a good shop there. Tell them to exchange for a new shaft.

  DAVID: Can’t I straighten this one?

  GUS: Is not possible for you.

  DAVID: Could you straighten it?

  GUS: That would depend—but I sold my instruments for this. You go to work now. Go ahead.

  DAVID, starts to move: You in a hurry to go away?

  GUS: I’ll stay, I’ll watch you.

  DAVID, thankfully: Okay. He gets down on his knees and is about to get under the car. You feel like workin’? Just for a couple of minutes?

  GUS: You would like me to?

  DAVID: I always wanted to see how somebody else works. Y’know?

  GUS: All right, come on. We rip her open. He pulls off his coat. You got a socket, a quarter inch?

  DAVID, a new excitement in him: I ain’t got sockets yet, but . . .

  GUS: That’s all right, give me an open end. David goes for the wrench quickly. How much oil you got in here?

  DAVID, finding the wrench: Just a couple of quarts. I just ran her a minute. I’ll drain her.

  He gets under the car quickly, opening the drain nuts, setting a can under it, as . . .

  GUS: Are you married?

  DAVID: Not yet . . . Under the car. . . . but pretty soon . . . are you?

  GUS, ready to work, he kneels on one knee beside the car: No, but I am always hopeful. There is a nice red-headed girl in this town? Preparing to slide under.

  DAVID, laughs: She got to be red-headed?

  GUS: Yes, I would prefer such a color. It always seemed to me in a small American town would be many red-headed girls. Probably this is because in general I like a small town. When this car has to be ready? Slides under.

  David moves to make room; sits on his heels beside the car.

  DAVID: Eleven in the morning, if possible. You think it can?

  GUS: Oh, plenty of time. You got a car to take this shaft to Newton?

  DAVID: Yeh, that Ford outside. Oh—my back.

  GUS: Spread out, take it easy.

  DAVID, relaxes on the floor: Gosh, you sure swing that wrench. Lots of time I do something and I wonder how they’d do it in the factory—you know, officially.

  GUS: In the factory also they wonder sometimes how it’s done officially.

  DAVID, laughs: Yeh, I bet. Pause. Gus works. Gosh, I suddenly feel awful tired. I been at it all night, y’know?

  GUS: Sleep, go ahead. I’ll wake you when it gets interesting.

  DAVID: . . . Don’t think you’re doing this for nothing; I’ll split the bill with you.

  GUS: Nonsense. Laughs. We’ll even it up sometime. One hand washes the other.

  David’s head comes down on his arm, his face toward the Austrian. For several moments Gus works in silence. David’s breathing comes in longer draughts. Gus, noticing his eyes closed . . .

  Mr. Beeves?

  David sleeps.

  Gus comes out from under the car, gets his own coat and lays it over David and looks down at him. A smile comes to his face, he shakes his head wondrously, and looks from David all around the shop. Then, happily, and with a certain anticipation, he whispers . . .

  America!

  He bends, slides under the car as the lights go down.

  The lights come up on the same scene. From the large barn doors a wide shaft of sunlight is pouring in. David is asleep where he was before, the coat still on him. But now the car is off the jack, and the hood is in place over the engine. The tools are in a neat pile nearby.

  Enter J.B., Dan Dibble, Hester, Pat and Amos.

  J.B., as they enter. To Dan: We’re a little early, so if he needs more time you’ll wait, Dan. . . . Looks at David. Quietly: What’d he do, sleep here all night?

  AMOS: Must’ve. He never come home.

  J.B., to Dan: That’s the type of character you’re dealing with. I hope you don’t forget to thank him.

  DIBBLE, fearfully touching the fender: It looks just the same as when I brought it. You think it’s fixed?

  Hester goes to David.

  J.B., looks at David: Don’t worry, it’s fixed.

  HESTER: Should I wake him?

  J.B.: Go ahead. I want to tell him right away.

  HESTER, bends over and shakes him lightly: Davey? Davey?

  DAVID: Huh?

  HESTER: Wake up. J.B.’s here. It’s morning. Laughs. Look at him!

  DAVID: Oh. Sits up and sees J.B. and Dibble. Oh ya, ya.

  He gets up quickly, catching the coat as it falls from him. He looks at the coat for an instant.

  HESTER, fixing his shirt straight: Is it all done?

  DAVID: What? I’m asleep yet, wait a minute. He rubs his head and walks a few steps.

  J.B., to Dibble with a strongly possessive pride: That’s when you’re young. Sleep anywhere. Nothin’ bothers you.

  DAVID: What time is it?

  J.B.: About half past ten.

  DAVID, astonished and frightened: Half past ten! Gosh, I didn’t mean to sleep that long . . . ! Looks around, suddenly anxious.

  HESTER, laughs: You look so funny!

  J.B.: Well, how’d you do, Dave, all finished?

  DAVID: Finished? Well, uh . . . He looks at the car.

  J.B.: If you’re not, Dan can wait.

  DAVID: Ya . . . just a second, I . . . He looks around the shop.

  HESTER: Looking for your tools? They’re right on the floor here.

  DAVID—he keeps looking all around for an instant. Looks at the tools: Oh, okay. He looks at the car as though it were explosive. He lifts the hood and looks at the engine as . . .

  J.B.: How was it, tough job?

  DAVID: Heh? Ya, pretty tough.

  J.B.: Anything wrong . . . ?

  DAVID: No, I . . . He gets on his knees and looks under the engine.

  DIBBLE: Can I start her up now?

  DAVID—gets to his feet, looks at everyone as though in a dream: Okay, try her. Wait a minute, let me.

  DIBBLE, following him to the car door: Now don’t dirty the upholstery . . .

  J.B.: Don’t worry about the upholstery, Dan, come over here.

  DIBBLE, coming to the front of car where J.B. and Hester are: They al
ways get in with their dirty clothes . . .

  The engine starts. It hums smoothly, quietly. J.B. turns proudly smiling to Dan, who creeps closer to it and listens. Hester watches J.B., teetering on the edge of expectation, then watches Dan. After a moment the engine is shut off. David comes out of the car, comes slowly into view, his eyes wide.

  PAT, to Dan, of Dave: Highly skilled, highly skilled.

  J.B., beaming, to Dibble: Well, you damn fool?

  DIBBLE, excitedly: Why she does, she does sound fine. He snoops around the car.

  DAVID: Look, J.B., I . . .

  J.B., raises his fist and bangs on the fender: Goddamn, Dave, I always said it! You know what you did?

  HESTER: Davey, J.B.’s going to . . .

  J.B., to Hester: I’m paying for it, at least let me tell it. Dan, come over here first and tell Dave what they did to you in Burley. Listen to this one, Dave. Pat, I want you to hear this.

  Pat and Amos come into the group.

  DIBBLE, feeling the edge of the fender: I think he bumped it here.

  J.B.: Oh, the hell with that, come over here and tell him. Dibble comes. What about that guy in Burley?

  DIBBLE: Well, there’s a garage in Burley does tractor work. But he’s not reasonable . . .

  J.B.: Tell him what he does.

  DIBBLE: I brought this one to him and he says I’ll have to take her plumb apart, every screw and bolt of her. He had his mind set on charging me a hundred and thirty-one dollars for the job. So, I figured it was just about time I stopped subsidizin’ the Burley Garage Incorporated.

  PAT: That’s intelligent, Mr. Dibble.

  DAVID: Did he tell you what was wrong with the car? The Burley man?

  DIBBLE: Well, yes, he did, he always tells you something, but I can’t. . . . Now wait a minute. . . . These things have a dingus they call a . . . a crankshaft? He said it was crooked, or busted, or dented . . .

  J.B., laughs—to David, then back to Dan: On a brand new Marmon! What the hell did he want with the crankshaft?

  PAT: Scandalous.

  DAVID: Look, J.B., lemme tell you . . .

  J.B., drawing David and Dan together: Go ahead, David. And listen to this, Dan. This is the first honest word you ever heard out of a mechanic. To David: Go on, tell this poor sucker what the matter was.

  David stands dumbly, looking into J.B.’s ecstatic face. He turns to Hester.

  HESTER, hardly able to stand still. Pridefully: Tell him, Davey!

  DAVID, turns back to J.B. He sighs: Just a lot of small things, that’s all.

  David walks a few steps away to a fender and absently touches it. It could be taken for modesty. Amos is now to the side, resting a foot on the car bumper—watching in wonder.

  J.B.: Well? What do you say, Danny? Now you’re looking at a mechanic!

  PAT, to Dan, of Dave: At the age of six he fixed the plug on an iron.

  DIBBLE, goes to David: Look, David. I have a proposition for you. Whenever there’s a job to do on my tractors charge me for parts and that’s all. If you’d do that for me, I could guarantee you more . . .

  DAVID: I’m much obliged to you, Mr. Dibble, but I’m not tooled up for tractor work . . .

  J.B.: Now wait a minute . . .

  DAVID, almost shouting with tension: Let me say something will you? To work on heavy engines like that, and tractors in general a man has got to be a . . . well, I’m not tooled up for it, that’s all, I haven’t got the machinery.

  J.B., businesslike: But you’ve got the machinery.

  HESTER: Listen to this, Davey!

  David looks at him.

  J.B.: You go out and buy everything you want. Fix up this building. Lay out a concrete driveway in the front. I’ll pay the bills. Give me one percent on my money. Roundly: Let me be some good in my life!

  DAVID, as though a fever were rising in him, his voice begins to soar: I don’t know if I’m ready for that, J.B. . . . I’d have to study about tractors . . . I . . .

  J.B.: Then study! Now’s the time, Dave. You’re young, strong . . . !

  PAT, to Dan: He’s very strong.

  DIBBLE, taking out a roll: How much do I owe you, boy?

  David looks at Dan.

  DAVID: Owe me?

  J.B.: Make it sixty dollars flat, Dave. Since it wasn’t as hard as we thought. David looks at J.B. who won’t wait for him to object. Sixty flat, Dan.

  DIBBLE, counts laboriously, peeling off each bill into David’s unwilling hand: One, two, three . . . Continues.

  HESTER, joyously amused at Dan: What’re those, all ones?!

  DIBBLE: All I carry is ones. Never can tell when you’ll leave a five by mistake. Continues counting. Government ought to print different sizes.

  J.B.: How’s it feel to have two stars, heh, Pat? With a sweep of his hand: I can see a big red sign out there way up in the air. Dave Beeves, Incorporated, Tractor Station . . .

  Hester has noticed the coat beside the car.

  HESTER, holding the coat up: Did you get a new coat?

  Dibble continues counting into David’s hand.

  DAVID: Huh?

  Quickly turns to Hester and the coat. Dan Dibble continues counting. David stares at the coat, suddenly in the full blast of all the facts. Now all but Dibble are looking at the coat.

  AMOS, feels the coat: Where’d you get this?

  DIBBLE: Hold still! Fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty . . .

  David looks at Amos, then down at his hand into which the money is still dropping. He then looks again at Amos . . . Amos to him.

  AMOS: What’s the matter?

  HESTER: What’s come over you?

  David suddenly hands the money to Hester.

  DIBBLE: Say!

  DAVID—his hand recedes from the bills as though they were burning. To Hester: Take it, will ya? I . . .

  He starts to point somewhere off right as though he were being called. Then his hand drops . . . and with gathering speed he strides out.

  HESTER, astonished: Davey . . . She hurries to watch him leaving, to the right, halts. Why . . . he’s running! Calling in alarm: Davey! She runs out.

  J.B., Pat and Dan stand, watching them open-mouthed as they disappear down the driveway. Amos is center, down-stage.

  DIBBLE: What in the world come over the boy? I didn’t finish payin’ him.

  They stand looking right. Amos looks at the coat. He starts turning it inside out, examining it carefully, perplexed . . .

  SLOW CURTAIN

  ACT TWO

  SCENE I

  June. Three years later. The living room of the Falks’—now David’s—house. A farmhouse room, but brightly done over. Solid door to outside at the right. In the back wall, right, a swinging door to the dining room. A stairway at the back, its landing at the left. A door, leading to an office in the bedroom, down left. One window at left. Two windows flanking the door to outside at right. Good blue rug, odd pieces, some new, some old. Oak. A pair of well-used rubber boots beside the door.

  The stage is empty. A perfect summer day, not too hot. Noon. After a moment the doorbell rings.

  HESTER, from above, shouts excitedly: They’re here! Davey!

  DAVID, hurrying down the stairs, buttoning on a white shirt. He wears pressed pants, shined shoes, his hair has just been combed; shouting up: I’ll get it, I’m going!

  HESTER, her head sticking out at the junction of banister and ceiling. She quickly surveys the room as David comes off the stairs: Get your boots out of there! I just fixed up the house!

  The bell rings.

  DAVID, calling toward the door: Just a minute! Getting the boots together. To Hester: Go on, get dressed, it’s almost noon! He opens door to dining room.

  HESTER: Don’t put them in there! They’re filthy! Down the cellar!

  DAVID: But I alwa
ys put them in here!

  HESTER: But you promised once the house is painted!

  Door opens. Enter Gus.

  GUS: Don’t bother. It’s only me.

  He wears a white Palm Beach suit, hatless. Hester and David stare at him in astonishment. She comes down the stairs. She is dressed in a robe, but has her best shoes on. Her hair is set.

  HESTER: Why, Gus! You look so handsome!

  GUS: It is such a special day, I decided to make an impression on myself.

  HESTER: No, you go perfectly with the room.

  DAVID, laughing with Gus: Watch yourself or she’ll hang you in a frame over the couch. He stamps at her to get her moving.

  HESTER, squealing, she runs to the stairs and up a few steps, and leans over the banister: Is your girl outside? Bring her in.

  DAVID: Hey, that’s right! Where’s your girl?

  GUS, looking up: Well, we both decided suddenly that until she can become as beautiful as Hester . . .

  HESTER: Oh, you.

  GUS, opening his arms like a pleading lover: Until she shows ability to make over a house like this was, and until etcetera and etcetera, she is not the girl for me, so I haven’t seen her all week. Anyway, I have decided definitely I need only a red-headed girl.

  HESTER, to Gus: Stand in the middle of the room when they come in. You make it look just like the picture in the Ladies’ Home Journal.

  DAVID, starting after her: Get dressed, will ya? Dad’ll cut my head off if we’re not ready!

  Hester laughs with delight and runs upstairs.

  GUS, looking around: It came out so nice. You know, this house shines in the sun a quarter of a mile away.

  DAVID: Well, look at that sun! Goes right to windows. God must’ve pulled up the sun this morning, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and said—make it a baseball day.

  GUS, touching the wall: Now it is truly a place to call home. Amazing.

  DAVID, laughs musingly, indicating the windows at the right: You know, when I came down this morning that window caught my eye. I used to sneak under that window when we were kids and peek in here to watch Hester doing her homework. And then I used to sneak away. And now I can walk in and outa this house fifty times a day and sleep up in his room night after night! Looks through the window. Wherever he is I bet he still can’t figure it out. Read the encyclopedia if you like. I’ll put on a tie. Goes to the landing.