The Price Page 5

  WALTER, standing the oar before Solomon, whom he leaves holding on to it: Don’t get excited, I don’t want it.

  SOLOMON: No. I was going to say—a personal thing like this I have no objection.

  WALTER, half-laughing: That’s very generous of you.

  VICTOR, apologizing for Solomon: I threw in everything— I never thought you’d get here.

  WALTER, with a strained over-agreeableness: Sure, that’s all right. What are you taking?

  VICTOR: Nothing, really. Esther might want a lamp or something like that.

  SOLOMON: He’s not interested, you see; he’s a modern person, what are you going to do?

  WALTER: You’re not taking the harp?

  VICTOR, with a certain guilt: Well, nobody plays … You take it, if you like.

  SOLOMON: You’ll excuse me, Doctor—the harp, please, that’s another story …

  WALTER—laughs—archly amused and put out: You don’t mind if I make a suggestion, do you?

  SOLOMON: Doctor, please, don’t be offended, I only—

  WALTER: Well, why do you interrupt? Relax, we’re only talking. We haven’t seen each other for a long time.

  SOLOMON: Couldn’t be better; I’m very sorry. He sits, nervously pulling his cheek.

  WALTER, touching the harp: Kind of a pity—this was Grandpa’s wedding present, you know.

  VICTOR, looking with surprise at the harp: Say—that’s right!

  WALTER, to Solomon: What are you giving him for this?

  SOLOMON: I didn’t itemize—one price for everything. Maybe three hundred dollars. That sounding board is cracked, you know.

  VICTOR, to Walter: You want it?

  SOLOMON: Please, Victor, I hope you’re not going to take that away from me. To Walter: Look, Doctor, I’m not trying to fool you. The harp is the heart and soul of the deal. I realize it was your mother’s harp, but like I tried to tell—to Victor—you before—to Walter—with used furniture you cannot be emotional.

  WALTER: I guess it doesn’t matter. To Victor: Actually, I was wondering if he kept any of Mother’s evening gowns, did he?

  VICTOR: I haven’t really gone through it all—

  SOLOMON, raising a finger, eagerly: Wait, wait, I think I can help you. He goes to an armoire he had earlier looked into, and opens it.

  WALTER, moving toward the armoire: She had some spectacular—

  SOLOMON, drawing out the bottom of a gown elaborately embroidered in gold: Is this what you mean?

  WALTER: Yes, that’s the stuff!

  Solomon blows dust off and hands him the bottom of the gown.

  Isn’t that beautiful! Say, I think she wore this at my wedding! He takes it out of the closet, holds it up. Sure! You remember this?

  VICTOR: What do you want with it?

  WALTER, drawing out another gown off the rack: Look at this one! Isn’t that something? I thought Jeannie might make something new out of the material, I’d like her to wear something of Mother’s.

  VICTOR—a new, surprising idea: Oh! Fine, that’s a nice idea.

  SOLOMON: Take, take—they’re beautiful.

  WALTER, suddenly glancing about as he lays the gowns across a chair. What happened to the piano?

  VICTOR: Oh, we sold that while I was still in school. We lived on it for a long time.

  WALTER, very interestedly: I never knew that

  VICTOR: Sure. And the silver.

  WALTER: Of course! Stupid of me not to remember that. He half-sits against the back of a couch. His interest is avid, and his energy immense. I suppose you know—you’ve gotten to look a great deal like Dad.

  VICTOR: I do?

  WALTER: It’s very striking. And your voice is very much like his.

  VICTOR: I know. It has that sound to me, sometimes.

  SOLOMON: So, gentlemen … He moves the money in his hand.

  VICTOR, indicating Solomon: Maybe we’d better settle this now.

  WALTER: Yes, go ahead! He walks off, looking at the furniture.

  SOLOMON, indicating the money Victor holds: You got there seven—

  WALTER, oblivious of Solomon; unable, so to speak, to settle for the status quo: Wonderful to see you looking so well.

  VICTOR—the new interruption seems odd; observing more than speaking: You do too, you look great.

  WALTER: I ski a lot; and I ride nearly every morning. .. You know, I started to call you a dozen times this year—He breaks off. Indicating Solomon: Finish up, I’ll talk to you later.

  SOLOMON: So now I’m going to give you—A bill is poised over Victor’s hand.

  VICTOR, to Walter: That price all right with you?

  WALTER: Oh, I don’t want to interfere. It’s just that I dealt with these fellows when I split up Dorothy’s and my stuff last year, and I found—

  VICTOR, from an earlier impression: You’re not divorced, are you?

  WALTER, with a nervous shot of laughter: Yes!

  Esther enters on his line; she is carrying a suit in a plastic wrapper.

  ESTHER, surprised: Walter! For heaven’s sake!

  WALTER, eagerly jumping up, coming to her, shaking her hand: How are you, Esther!

  ESTHER, between her disapproval and fascinated surprise: What are you doing here?

  WALTER: You’ve hardly changed!

  ESTHER, with a charged laugh, conflicted with herself: Oh, go on now! She hangs the suit on a chest handle.

  WALTER, to Victor: You son of a gun, she looks twenty-five!

  VICTOR, watching for Esther’s reaction: I know!

  ESTHER, flattered, and offended, too: Oh stop it, Walter! She sits.

  WALTER: But you do, honestly; you look marvelous.

  SOLOMON: It’s that suit, you see? What did I tell you, it’s a very beautiful suit.

  Victor laughs a little as Esther looks conflicted by Solomon’s compliment.

  ESTHER, with mock-affront—to Victor: What are you laughing at? It is. She is about to laugh.

  VICTOR: You looked so surprised, that’s all.

  ESTHER: Well, I’m not used to walking into all these compliments! She bursts out laughing.

  WALTER, suddenly recalling—eagerly: Say! I’m sorry I didn’t know I’d be seeing you when I left the house this morning—I’d have brought you some lovely Indian bracelets. I got a whole boxful from Bombay.

  ESTHER, still not focused on Walter, sizing him up: How do you come to—?

  WALTER: I operated on this big textile guy and he keeps sending me things. He sent me this coat, in fact.

  ESTHER: I was noticing it. That’s gorgeous material.

  WALTER: Isn’t it? Two gallstones.

  ESTHER, her impression lingering for the instant: How’s Dorothy?—Did I hear you saying you were—?

  WALTER, very seriously: We’re divorced, ya. Last winter.

  ESTHER: I’m sorry to hear that.

  WALTER: It was coming a long time. We’re both much better off—we’re almost friendly now. He laughs.

  ESTHER: Oh, stop that, you dog.

  WALTER, with naïve excitement: It’s true!

  ESTHER: Look, I’m for the woman, so don’t hand me that. To Victor—seeing the money in his hand: Have you settled everything?

  VICTOR: Just about, I guess.

  WALTER: I was just telling Victor—to Victor: when we split things up I—to Solomon: you ever hear of Spitzer and Fox?

  SOLOMON: Thirty years I know Spitzer and Fox. Bert Fox worked for me maybe ten, twelve years.

  WALTER: They did my appraisal.

  SOLOMON: They’re good boys. Spitzer is not as good as Fox, but between the two you’re in good hands.

  WALTER: Yes. That’s why I—

  SOLOMON: Spitzer is vice president of the Appraisers’ Association.

  WALTER: I see. The point I’m making—

  SOLOMON: I used to be president.

  WALTER: Really.

  SOLOMON: Oh yes. I made it all ethical.

  WALTER, trying to keep a straight face—and Victor as well: Did y
ou?

  Victor suddenly bursts out laughing, which sets off Walter and Esther, and a warmth springs up among them.

  SOLOMON, smiling, but insistent: What’s so funny? Listen, before me was a jungle—you wouldn’t laugh so much. I put in all the rates, what we charge, you know—I made it a profession, like doctors, lawyers—used to be it was a regular snakepit. But today, you got nothing to worry—all the members are hundred per cent ethical.

  WALTER: Well, that was a good deed, Mr. Solomon—but I think you can do a little better on this furniture.

  ESTHER, to Victor, who has money in his hand: How much has he offered?

  VICTOR, embarrassed, but braving it quite well: Eleven hundred.

  ESTHER, distressed; with a transcendent protest: Oh, I think that’s … isn’t that very low? She looks to Walter’s confirmation.

  WALTER, familiarly: Come on, Solomon. He’s been risking his life for you every day; be generous—

  SOLOMON, to Esther: That’s a real brother! Wonderful. To Walter: But you can call anybody you like—Spitzer and Fox, Joe Brody, Paul Cavallo, Morris White—I know them all and I know what they’ll tell you.

  VICTOR, striving to retain some assurance; to Esther: See, the point he was making about it—

  SOLOMON, to Esther, raising his finger: Listen to him because he—

  VICTOR, to Solomon: Hold it one second, will you? To Esther and Walter: Not that I’m saying it’s true, but he claims a lot of it is too big to get into the new apartments.

  ESTHER, half-laughing: You believe that?

  WALTER: I don’t know, Esther, Spitzer and Fox said the same thing.

  ESTHER: Walter, the city is full of big, old apartments! SOLOMON: Darling, why don’t you leave it to the boys?

  ESTHER, suppressing an outburst: I wish you wouldn’t order me around, Mr. Solomon! To Walter, protesting: Those two bureaus alone are worth a couple of hundred dollars!

  WALTER, delicately: Maybe I oughtn’t interfere—

  ESTHER: Why? Of Solomon: Don’t let him bulldoze you—

  SOLOMON: My dear girl, you’re talking without a basis—

  ESTHER, slashing: I don’t.like this kind of dealing, Mr. Solomon! I just don’t like it! She is near tears. A pause. She turns back to Walter: This money is very important to us, Walter.

  WALTER, chastised: Yes. I … I’m sorry, Esther. He looks about. Well … if it was mine—

  ESTHER: Why? It’s yours as much as Victor’s.

  WALTER: Oh no, dear—I wouldn’t take anything from this.

  Pause.

  VICTOR: No, Walter, you get half.

  WALTER: I wouldn’t think of it, kid. I came by to say hello, that’s all.

  Pause.

  ESTHER—she is very moved: That’s terrific, Walter. It’s … Really, I …

  VICTOR: Well, we’ll talk about it.

  WALTER: No-no, Vic, you’ve earned it It’s yours.

  VICTOR, rejecting the implication: Why have I earned it? You take your share.

  WALTER: Why don’t we discuss it later? To Solomon: In my opinion—

  SOLOMON, to Victor: So now you don’t even have to split. To Victor and Walter: You’re lucky they’re tearing the building down—you got together, finally.

  WALTER: I would have said a minimum of three thousand dollars.

  ESTHER: That’s exactly what I had in mind! To Solomon: I was going to say thirty-five hundred dollars.

  WALTER, to Victor; tactfully: In that neighborhood.

  Silence. Solomon sits there holding back comment, not looking at Victor, blinking with protest. Victor thinks for a moment; then turns to Solomon, and there is a wide discouragement in his voice.

  VICTOR: Well? What do you say?

  SOLOMON, spreading out his hands helplessly, outraged: What can I say? It’s ridiculous. Why does he give you three thousand? What’s the matter with five thousand, ten thousand?

  WALTER, to Victor, without criticism: You should’ve gotten a couple of other estimates, you see, that’s always the—

  VICTOR: I’ve been calling you all week for just that reason, Walter, and you never came to the phone.

  WALTER, blushing: Why would that stop you from—?

  VICTOR: I didn’t think I had the right to do it alone—the nurse gave you my messages, didn’t she?

  WALTER: I’ve been terribly tied up—and I had no intention of taking anything for myself, so I assumed—

  VICTOR: But how was I supposed to know that?

  WALTER, with open self-reproach: Yes. Well, I … I beg your pardon. He decides to stop there.

  SOLOMON: Excuse me, Doctor, but I can’t understand you; first it’s a lot of junk—

  ESTHER: Nobody called it a lot of junk!

  SOLOMON: He called it a lot of junk, Esther, when he walked in here.

  Esther turns to Walter, puzzled and angry.

  WALTER, reacting to her look; to Solomon: Now just a minute—

  SOLOMON: No, please. Indicating Victor: This is a factual man, so let’s be factual.

  ESTHER: Well, that’s an awfully strange thing to say, Walter.

  WALTER, intimately: I didn’t mean it in that sense, Esther—

  SOLOMON: Doctor, please. You said junk.

  WALTER, sharply—and there is an over-meaning of much greater anger in his tone: I didn’t mean it in that sense, Mr. Solomon! He controls himself—and, half to Esther: When you’ve been brought up with things, you tend to be sick of them…. To Esther: That’s all I meant.

  SOLOMON: My dear man, if it was Louis Seize, Biedermeier, something like that, you wouldn’t get sick.

  WALTER, pointing to a piece, and weakened by knowing he is exaggerating: Well, there happens to be a piece right over there in Biedermeier style!

  SOLOMON: Biedermeier “style!” He picks up his hat. I got a hat it’s in Borsolino style but it’s not a Borsolino. To Victor: I mean he don’t have to charge me to make an impression.

  WALTER, striving for an air of amusement: Now what’s that supposed to mean?

  VICTOR, with a refusal to dump Solomon: Well, what basis do you go on, Walter?

  WALTER, reddening but smiling: I don’t know … it’s a feeling, that’s all.

  ESTHER—there is ridicule: Well, on what basis do you take eleven hundred, dear?

  VICTOR, angered; his manly leadership is suddenly in front: I simply felt it was probably more or less right!

  ESTHER, as a refrain: Oh God, here we go again. All right, throw it away—

  SOLOMON, indicating Victor: Please, Esther, he’s not throwing nothing away. This man is no fool! To Walter as well: Excuse me, but this is not right to do to him!

  WALTER, bridling, but retaining his smile: You going to teach me what’s right now?

  ESTHER, to Victor, expanding Walter’s protest: Really! I mean.

  VICTOR—obeying her protest for want of a certainty of his own, he touches Solomon’s shoulder: Mr. Solomon … why don’t you sit down in die bedroom for a few minutes and let us talk?

  SOLOMON: Certainly, whatever you say. He gets up. Only please, you made a very nice deal, you got no right to be ashamed.… To ESTHER: Excuse me, I don’t want to be personal.

  ESTHER—laughs angrily: He’s fantastic!

  VICTOR, trying to get him moving again: Whyn’t you go inside?

  SOLOMON: I’m going; I only want you to understand, Victor, that if it was a different kind of man—turning to Esther: I would say to you that he’s got the money in his hand, so the deal is concluded.

  WALTER: He can’t conclude any deal without me, Solomon, I’m half owner here.

  SOLOMON, to Victor: You see? What did I ask you the first thing I walked in here? “Who is the owner?”

  WALTER: Why do you confuse everything? I’m not making any claim, I merely—

  SOLOMON: Then how do you come to interfere? He’s got the money; I know the law!

  WALTER, angering: Now you stop being foolish! Just stop it! I’ve got the best lawyers in New York, so go inside an
d sit down.

  VICTOR, as he turns back to escort Solomon: Take it easy, Walter, come on, cut it out.

  ESTHER, striving to keep a light, amused tone: Why? He’s perfectly right.

  VICTOR, with a hard glance at her, moving upstage with Solomon: Here, you better hold onto this money.

  SOLOMON: No, that’s yours; you hold …

  He sways. Victor grasps his arm. Walter gets up.

  WALTER: You all right?

  SOLOMON—dizzy, he grasps his head: Yes, yes, I’m …

  WALTER, coming to him: Let me look at you. He takes Solomon’s wrists, looks into his face.

  SOLOMON: I’m only a little tired, I didn’t take my nap today.

  WALTER: Come in here, lie down for a moment. He starts Solomon toward the bedroom.

  SOLOMON: Don’t worry about me, I’m … He halts and points back at his portfolio, leaning on a chest. Please, Doctor, if you wouldn’t mind—I got a Hershey’s in there.

  Walter hesitates to do his errand.

  Helps me.

  Walter unwillingly goes to the portfolio and reaches into it.

  I’m a very healthy person, but a nap, you see, I have to have a …

  Walter takes out an orange.

  Not the orange—on the bottom is a Hershey’s.

  Walter takes out a Hershey bar.

  That’s a boy.

  WALTER—returns to him and helps him to the bedroom: All right, come on … easy does it …

  SOLOMON, as he goes into the bedroom: I’m all right, don’t worry. You’re very nice people.

  Solomon and Walter exit into the bedroom. Victor glances at the money in his hand, then puts it on a table, setting the foil on it.

  ESTHER: Why are you being so apologetic?

  VICTOR: About what?

  ESTHER: That old man. Was that his first offer?

  VICTOR: Why do you believe Walter? He was obviously pulling a number out of a hat.

  ESTHER: Well, I agree with him. Did you try to get him to go higher?

  VICTOR: I don’t know how to bargain and I’m not going to start now.

  ESTHER: I wish you wouldn’t be above everything, Victor, we’re not twenty years old. We need this money.

  He is silent.