THE TABLE OF INCONTINENCE--A Dark Comedy in One Act and Two Scenes  (conclusion)

SCENE TWO
 
(event room of the library, later)
 
Some paper cups, scattered napkins and a few donuts in a box litter one side of the table.
 
The ladies, except for Sissie not yet  back from her foray through Mardi Gras, are seated; some patting back yawns as Ruth enters and takes her seat at the head of the table.
 
 
 
LAUREL: I want to hear Gladys read her poem.
 
RUTH:  We haven't heard yours yet.
 
LAUREL: I don't think it's as good as Doris' Ode to a Twinkie.
 
(she looks around sheepishly, hesitates, then whips a copy out of her pocketbook)
 
LAUREL: Oh pshaw!  Here goes Ode to a Nail Biter.
 
Get all the itty bitty out
I know how it feels
I too was a biter
Many years and many moons have
passed when thumb, forefinger, middle finger,  
and not to forget pinky
felt teeth and tongue go crack  
Snip! 0 nail biter!
Bite! Bite! Harder! Harder!
Another one! Another one!
Many more to go before I end.
I know how it feels to get the last
itty bitty OUT!
 
(wild applause, the ladies loved this)
 
RUTH: Quite nostalgic, Laurel, and grammar-wise impeccable! (she high fives Laurel)
 
LAUREL: You know who  has influenced me a lot? Robert Freeze.  
 
RUTH: You mean Robert Frost.
 
LAUREL: Yes, the poem about many miles to go before I sleep.
 
Vera: (yawning vociferously)  Oh mercy excuse me!
 
RUTH: Gladys your turn.
 
GLADYS: Mine is called Ode to Spring. (she unfolds a slip of paper from her dress pocket and reads)
 
Hello Spring! Without you birds wouldn't sing
Without you leaves wouldn't turn green
Without you lovers wouldn't have flings
Without you our gardener Jose would be out of a job
And besides it would be cold all year
 
RUTH: You had me grooving on the first 4 lines, then things petered out in dull everyday language.
 
GLADYS: Jose liked it.
 
VERA: Jose can't speak two words of English.
 
RUTH:  Keep those first four lines and work like the devil on the rest.(pause)
So far I see you girls have learned the Ode form from last month quite well.
 
(NOISE OFF upsurge of horns and yells from passing Mardi Gras paraders)
 
LAUREL:  The mayor must be riding by.
 
VERA: Either that or that movie outfit has arrived and is filming naked girls. It was in the papers. They call it Spring Break or something.  
 
DORIS: We should all go out there and flash our ten ton super absorbent panties.
 
(SISSIE suddenly barges in through the street door)
 
SISSIE: Hi ya! and a rah! rah! rah! I crossed their parade route, mooning them every step of the way. How they loved it, LOVED IT! Did you hear them?
 
(the ladies whisper and exclaim among themselves)
 
SISSIE: Ladies listen up,  you're about to hear a poem I  wrote about an experience I had out there. Let this be my contribution to the Ode assignment.(she brings a piece of paper out of her dress pocket) I call it The Sensual Salvation Ode. (she reads)
 
I met this fabulous conductor dressed as a satyr on
a streetcar named Desire  
and he rode me
rode me all the way  
rode me all the way
he rode me all the way
till we both came at the end of the line
 
RUTH: Sharp,Sissie.  
 
SISSIE:  Thank you.
 
LAUREL: That is indecent, I really think that is indecent.
 
(Sissie doesn't answer, busies herself sorting through the donuts on the table)
 
SISSIE: No orange ones left. My favorite.(after a beat) Decent or indecent, that was an experience I can dine on the rest of my life.
 
LAUREL: I'm offended. We'll leave it at that.
 
VERA: (looking towards Bella) Sissie, you should get together with our Jacqueline Susann here and help her finish her latest filth-- The Valley of the Balls. Why do I keep thinking I've heard a famous title nearly identical to yours?
 
BELLA: I'll have you know the book is finished and I'm already reading the galleys.
 
VERA: Big publisher?
 
BELLA: Yes.
 
VERA:  HarperCollins?
 
BELLA: Bigger.  What's it to you? You shouldn't be butting into my business anyway. (flinging her hand in a shooing gesture) Away! Out!
 
VERA: Is it another vanity publisher where anybody can get published for a price?
 
BELLA: I don't have to sit here and listen to your malicious sarcasm and vile comments. You're green with envy anybody can see that. (she rises in growing anger) You don't know this, but right now I'm whizzing gallons and only wish you were underneath drowning in the deluge!
 
RUTH: That's enough, Bella. Please be seated. (after a beat) We haven't heard your poem yet.
 
(Bella rises even taller, throws out her chest, pulls back her shoulders and declaims in her booming voice--Ode To Nothing!
 
(long silence)
 
RUTH: , We're waiting.
 
BELLA: That evidently went way over your heads. And to think I wasted a good breath that could have gone to my emphysema !
 
RUTH: That might have been appropriate for a course in existentialism, but our course is in the grand tradition of Faulkner and Hemingway,both modern realists. Turn to page 21 in your syllabus. There you will find examples of Faulkner's style of writing and of Hemingway's. Someone tell me how would you describe the comparisons?
 
( the ladies peruse intently, a few scratching their heads)
 
 
DORIS: One has the shits, the other is plugged up.
 
RUTH: Exactly. But there's a nicer way of putting that. Faulkner is verbose, Hemingway is compact.  
 
JOYCE:Hemingway could have used some Kahlil Gibran. Everyone should have   a bowl every day of Kahlil Gibran . It cleanses your total body and calms your nerves.It is the subject of my  Ode. I have it in my notebook here. Here we go. I just call it ODE.. (reads) Farewell forever All-Bran, Raisin Bran, Multi Bran, long live nutritious, delicious Kahlil Gibran, get your godless bowels angelically irrigated by having a bowlful every morning of Kahlil Gibran.
 
RUTH: Oh, Joyce!
 
JOYCE: Oh, Ruth, I knew you'd like it. Has a classic ring to it, doesn't it? Maybe Shakespeare, if I dare compare!
 
RUTH:   Joyce , Kahlil Gibran is not a cereal. Kahlil Gibran was a person, a famous Lebanese poet of the 19th century who wrote soothing love poems.
 
JOYCE: But...but Doris was always telling me to make a habit of Kahlil Gibran, it would calm my nerves and cleanse my troubled innards.
 
DORIS: I was speaking metaphorically. I thought you knew. Lord have mercy!
 
JOYCE: Oh my God I want to hide somewhere.
 
RUTH: Get your facts straight first, then let your imagination fly. That applies to all of you.
 
JOYCE: (turning her back on the women) I don't want any of you to look at me again.
 
(Vera goes over and puts her arm around Joyce who is sniffling now)
 
RUTH: Your ode showed you have a flair for jingle writing. Why not find some product you like--maybe your favorite soap or body lotion--and try again! (after a beat)
Vera, we haven't heard your poem yet.
 
VERA: I'm afraid I come up missing. I developed writer's cramp--all along my elbow down to my wrist and fingers. I was unable to even hold a brush in my hand to brush my hair. I had to have Doris brush down this long gray mane for over a week. I owe you 5, Doris. I haven't forgot..
 
(Doris waves a dismissal)
 
RUTH: None of you girls want to use a computer, and that's fine, even Ray Bradbury still writes by longhand I've heard, but you'd be surprised how much easier it would be if you could get computer-friendly.
 
(the ladies seem to mull this over as the street door opens and a slaphappy  bus driver says: Ten minutes, ladies, I'll be waitin' round the bend.
 
JOYCE: (to Gladys) Do you think he's handsome?
 
GLADYS: Carl's ok but he doesn't have Smitty's high cheek bones and his lips are thin as thread.
 
JOYCE: I never noticed.  
 
GLADYS: Oh, for a hot cup of Smitty's roasted  brew!  
 
DORIS: He got married.That's what happened. Eloped with a woman half his age.
 
SISSIE: Sounds plausible.  
 
LAUREL: We have to learn to adjust to unfortunate circumstances.
 
VERA: That's right, Laurel. There's a good article about that in this month's Readers Digest.
 
BELLA: He died in my arms.
 
(like a shot this sends the ladies into shock and verbal chaos)  
 
BELLA: At his place. A party he was giving last month for this year's Mardi Gras.All my life I've had this weight problem, never felt any man was sexually attracted to me big as a house.
When I looked in a mirror a big fat ugly OLD MAID stared back at me ALL MY LIFE! Oh, how terrible it was to never be touched, to never have the glorious creation called MAN embrace me, to never have given into my need to caress those haunches or fondle that manhood!  I suffered, ladies. I suffered like you'd never know.
 
(a suspended silence ensues in which the women mumble and nod  their commiseration)
 
BELLA: (cont.) Never liked Smitty, saw through his falsity from the first, but thought here is my chance.  So after a few Martinis and sloppy kisses between the both of us, the ancient act commenced, ancient in more ways than one for here was a conceited egotistical 79 year old ex-playboy attempting  to seduce a 78 year old virgin weighing 350 pounds and with a face of a donkey.
 
(the women can't help sucking in  their breaths with both horror and amusement)
 
(long silence)
 
BELLA: He couldn't get it up and THAT was destroying his self-image to a pitiful degree.He tried everything. He even tried some yoga positions. Nothing worked. He was sweating, he was panting, then at one  point he slumped lifelessly spastically into my arms, like a man does I guess after he climaxes but this was no climax unless you want to call death a climax. He was no longer breathing. I held a dead man in my arms.
 
(some of the ladies are dabbing tears away, others remain stone faced)
 
BELLA: The paramedics worked him over as if he were the President. No dice.  
 
VERA: Come on girls, we're late. Carl's gonna kill us.
 
(they rise, gathering up their belongings, Bella stuffs the remaining donuts into her mouth)  
 
(voice off ) Come on ladies, the bus is waiting. Get the lead out!
 
LADIES: (in unison) Coming, Carl! Coming!
 
JOYCE: He's insufferable!
 
(like a man bursting out of a band box Smitty opens the street door and stands on the threshold, exclaiming:)  Ha! Ha! That was me. Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated! Doc says I'm a miracle! Happy Mardi Gras!
 
GLADYS: (jumping up and down) Praise God! Praise God!
 
(the ladies rush towards him, take his hands,lead him to a seat, Gladys steals a quick cheek kiss, he bumps into Bella)  
 
SMITTY: (to Bella) Hey, you look familiar!
 
JOYCE: We thought you had died.  
 
(he turns to face the ladies and announce:)  If it hadn't been for modern medicine and its wonderful new techniques, oh yes, yes. (after a beat) Carl's  going to peddle the coffee while I recup. We just made a deal. You'll be in good hands.
 
JOYCE: Let's all give a yell of cheer for our returning hero!  
 
(they cheer, yell "Welcome Back!" "Happy Mardi Gras!"
 
(Smitty bows)
 
SISSIE: (going up to him and putting her arm around him) We missed our cup of joe, baby.
 
SMITTY: Oh now look at her. (he hugs Sissie).  
 
LAUREL: Give us a song , Smitty. Al Jolson. "My Mammy."
 
SMITTY: With pleasure!( (he hauls off singing in the broad ostentatious manner of Jolson) "Mammy! Mammy! The sun shines east, the sun shines west, but I know where the sun shines best...Mammy! Mammy! My heartstrings are tangled around Alabamy! I'm a comin! Sorry I made you wait, I'm a comin' I'm a comin', I hope and trust  I'm not late, Mammy! Mammy! I'd walk a million miles for one of your smiles My mammy!!!"
 
(wild applause and cheers cut short as he begins to slump to the floor with a painful expression,hand to heart, but soon the ladies are in denial,  laughing and exclaiming"What an actor!" "What talent!" "He belongs on Broadway!" "You still have it, Smitty!"
 
(Ruth rushes over to him, shaking him, saying, "Smitty! Smitty!" She takes his pulse, feels his chest, takes her cell phone out, calls 911)
 
SISSIE: Is he faking it? Let me see.( she goes over, takes his pulse)
 
RUTH: I called 911.
 
(Joyce goes over stands there, briefly assessing the situation)
 
JOYCE: He's not dead.
 
RUTH: (taking his pulse, looking up at Joyce) I wouldn't bet on it.
 
lights dim to black ----end of play
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copyright (c) 2010/2016 by Ronald Jones (aka candycrier) All rights reserved.