The Apple Family. Richard NelsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
between approximately seven P.M. and nine P.M. on the night of Tuesday, November 2, 2010—election night.
PLACE
Rhinebeck, New York: a small historic village one hundred miles north of New York City; once referred to in an article in the New York Times as “The Town That Time Forgot.” A room in Barbara Apple’s house on Center Street.
How’s that hopey changey thing workin’ for ya?
—Sarah Palin
In the dark. A wooden table and four wooden chairs. A few flowers, with most of their stems cut off, in a small glass vase on the table. Rugs.
Suddenly, a sick dog lets out an awful, painful scream, and then begins to whimper. Underneath the whimper, a distant church bell tolls seven.
Joanna Newsom’s “Good Intentions Paving Company” begins. After a moment, Barbara enters with a chair. She is soon followed by Richard, Jane and Tim with another chair and a folded-up wooden card table. They unfold the card table and set the chairs around the room in a kind of circle. The women put tablecloths on the tables, set out glasses, etc. All this as the music continues to play.
They make a few trips back and forth, bringing out serving dishes—a chicken dish, green beans, boiled potatoes, salad; as well as glasses, a couple of bottles of wine and a pitcher of water—all for a buffet dinner. By now, Benjamin has joined them as well. Barbara has gone back to the kitchen when the music stops.
Election Day
Seven P.M. A room in Barbara Apple’s home on Center Street, Rhinebeck. As the lights come up, Richard is in the middle of a story/joke:
RICHARD: “Fuck you Andrew Cuomo!”
(The others laugh or disagree or just react.)
“Fuck you Dark Prince!”
TIM: Who’s the Dark—?
RICHARD: That’s what they call him.
BENJAMIN: Who calls him that?
RICHARD: Everyone in the office, Uncle Benjamin. (Continues)
“Fuck you Albany.” “Fuck everyone in Albany!”
(Barbara enters with dishes of food.)
BARBARA: Do you have to keep using that word?
JANE: He’s telling a joke.
BARBARA: I know that, Jane. (Noticing) We don’t have any napkins.
RICHARD: “And fuck—”
JANE (Interrupting; laughing, to Tim): This is funny. He told me this on the phone. “And fuck—”
BARBARA: How often do you and Richard talk on the phone?
JANE (Continuing): “And fuck—” Fuck. What’s her real name? I always want to call her Christine.
RICHARD (Continuing with the joke): “And fuck Kirsten Gillibrand—”
JANE: Kirsten! Not Christine.
RICHARD: “And the horse—”
JANE (Excited, finishes Richard’s joke): “And the horse she rode in on whose name is—Charles!”
RICHARD (Correcting her): “Chuck.” The horse’s name is Chuck. Chuck—Schumer.
(A little laughter.)
It was very funny.
BARBARA (To Jane): Does Richard call you or do you call him?
JANE: I don’t know.
BARBARA (To Richard): You never call me, Richard.
(And she is off to get the napkins.)
RICHARD: I call her . . .
JANE (Not loud enough for Barbara to hear): Let me help . . . (To Richard) I guess she didn’t hear me.
(Short pause. They are uncomfortable. Tim smiles at Richard, then:)
TIM (To Richard and Jane): And then what happened?
RICHARD (Mind on something else): With what?
TIM: In your office. The guy who quit.
RICHARD: Oh. He then picked up a couple of things—from his desk, I think a photo of his wife—and walked out.
(Barbara is returning.)
(To Barbara) Can we help? (No response) Barbara. We could have just eaten out. I suggested this.
JANE (Explaining to Benjamin): Mr. Cuomo’s Richard’s boss—
RICHARD: He wasn’t there. Of course. Cuomo.
JANE: He wasn’t? You didn’t tell me that.
RICHARD: And this guy, he didn’t really quit. He was just—blowing off steam. Like lawyers do. It was funny. (To himself, as he looks over the food) “Fuck Andrew Cuomo.” It’s fun just to say . . .
BARBARA (To Benjamin): Do you know who Cuomo is, Uncle Benjamin?
(No response.)
He’s our next—
JANE (Interrupting): In about— (Looks at her watch) two hours, he’ll be our governor. I’m sure we all voted for him. But that’s very funny. (To herself) “Fuck you Albany.”
BARBARA: I wish you both wouldn’t keep—
JANE: “Fuck Albany.” Come on, you must want to say it. You’re a public schoolteacher.
(Barbara ignores her.)
We’re doing this as a buffet? (To Richard) It would have been better if Cuomo’d been there.
BARBARA: Is buffet all right with everyone? You want to sit around a table?
JANE: Whatever is easiest, Barbara. We don’t want to put you out.
BARBARA: A buffet is not necessarily easier than—
TIM (To Barbara): Thank you for doing all this.
BARBARA: You’re welcome— (Turns to Jane)
JANE: “Tim.”
BARBARA: Tim.
(They are at the tables, filling their plates.)
RICHARD: Actually, I don’t really like Andrew. I liked working for Eliot more; he had his bad days, but mostly . . . With Eliot it wasn’t all about politics. So—in my mind, Eliot was better. (Looks at the others) But then again—I didn’t have to have sex with him.
(He smiles. Jane smiles.)
(Joke to Jane) We’ve heard how that could be a little rough . . .
BENJAMIN: Why would you have to have sex with him?
JANE (After a glance at Richard): It’s a long long story, Uncle. Richard was making another joke.
BARBARA: Since when did everything become a joke to you?
RICHARD (Ignoring her): I’m glad we decided not to go to Gigi’s. Last time we went there—it’s like being in New York.
BARBARA: I don’t go there. Only New Yorkers go there.
(Short pause, as they fill their plates.)
JANE: Like us.