Angels in America: A Gay Fantasia on National Themes: Revised and Complete Edition (30 page)

     
Prior enters, wet, in his prophet garb, dark glasses on, despite the dark day outside. He’s breathless, manic.)

PRIOR
: That man who was just here.

HANNAH
(Not looking at him)
: We’re closed. Go away.

PRIOR
: He’s your son.

(Hannah looks at Prior. Little pause. Prior turns to leave.)

HANNAH
: Do you know him. That man?

     
How . . . How do you know him, that he’s my—

PRIOR
: My ex-boyfriend, he knows him. I, I shadowed him, all the way up from—I wanted to, to . . . warn him about
later
, when his hair goes and there’s hips and jowls and all that . . . human stuff, that poor slob there’s just gonna wind up miserable, fat, frightened and
alone
because Louis, he can’t handle bodies.

(Little pause.)

HANNAH
: Are you a . . . a homosexual?

PRIOR
: Oh is it
that
obvious? Yes. I am. What’s it to you?

HANNAH
: Would you say you are a typical . . . homosexual?

PRIOR
: Me? Oh I’m
stereotypical
. What, you mean like am I a hairdresser or . . .

HANNAH
:
Are
you a hairdresser?

PRIOR
: Well it would be
your
lucky day if I was because frankly . . .

(Little pause.)

PRIOR
: I’m sick. I’m sick. It’s expensive.

     
(He starts to cry)

     
Oh shit now I won’t be able to stop, now it’s started. I feel really terrible, do I have a fever?

(Hannah doesn’t touch his forehead. He offers it again, impatiently.)

PRIOR
:
Do I have a fever?

(She hesitates, then puts her hand on his forehead.)

HANNAH
: Yes.

PRIOR
: How high?

HANNAH
: There might be a thermometer in the—

PRIOR
: Very high, very high. Could you get me to a cab, I think I want . . .

     
(He sits heavily on the floor)

     
Don’t be alarmed, it’s worse than it looks, I mean—

HANNAH
: You should . . . Try to stand up, or . . . Let me see if anyone can—

PRIOR
(Listening to his lungs)
: Sssshhh.

     
Echo-breath, it’s . . .
(He shakes his head “no good”)
I . . . overdid it. I’m in trouble again.

     
Take me to Saint Vincent’s Hospital, I mean, help me to a cab to the . . .

(Little pause, then Hannah exits and reenters with her coat on.)

HANNAH
: Can you stand up?

PRIOR
: You don’t . . . Call me a—

HANNAH
: I’m useless here.

(She helps him stand.)

PRIOR
: Please, if you’re trying to convert me this isn’t a good time.

(Distant thunder. Prior looks up, startled.)

HANNAH
: Lord, look at it out there. It’s pitch-black. We better move.

(They exit. Thunder.)

Scene 7

Same day, late afternoon. Rain is coming down in sheets, an icy wind has picked up. Harper is standing at the railing of the Promenade in Brooklyn Heights, watching the river and the Manhattan skyline. She is wearing the dress she wore in Act Three,
Scene 3
, inadequate for the weather, and she’s barefoot
.

Joe enters with an umbrella. Harper turns to face him
.

HARPER
: The end of the world is at hand. Hello, paleface.
(She turns back to the skyline)

     
Nothing like storm clouds over Manhattan to get you in the mood for Judgment Day.

(Thunder.)

JOE
: It’s freezing, it’s raining, where are your shoes?

HARPER
: I threw them in the river.

     
The Judgment Day. Everyone will think they’re crazy now, not just me, everyone will see things. Sick men will see angels, women who have houses will sell their houses, dime store dummies will rear up on their wood-putty legs and roam the land, looking for brides.

JOE
: Let’s go home.

HARPER
: Where’s that?

     
(Pointing toward Manhattan)
Want to buy an island? It’s going out of business. You can have it for the usual cheap trinkets. Fire sale. The prices are insane.

JOE
: Harper.

HARPER
: Joe. Did you miss me?

JOE
: I . . . I’ve come back.

HARPER
: Oh I know.

     
Here’s why I wanted to stay in Brooklyn. The Promenade view.

     
Water won’t ever accomplish the end. No matter how much you cry. Flood’s not the answer, people just float.

     
Let’s go home.

     
Fire’s the answer. The Great and Terrible Day. At last.

Scene 8

That night. Rain and thunder outside. Prior, Hannah and Emily (Prior’s nurse-practitioner) in an examination room in Saint Vincent’s emergency room. Emily is listening to Prior’s breathing, while Hannah sits in a nearby chair
.

EMILY
: You’ve lost eight pounds. Eight pounds! I know people who would kill to be in the shape you were in, you were
recovering
, and you threw it away.

PRIOR
: This isn’t about WEIGHT, it’s about LUNGS, UM . . . PNEUMONIA.

EMILY
: We don’t know yet.

PRIOR
: THE FUCK WE DON’T ASSHOLE YOU MAY NOT BUT I
CAN’T BREATHE
.

HANNAH
: You’d breathe better if you didn’t holler like that.

PRIOR
(Looks at Hannah, then)
: This is my ex-lover’s lover’s Mormon mother.

(Little pause. Emily nods, then:)

EMILY
: Keep breathing. Stop moving. STAY PUT.

(Prior startles at her last two words, and stares hard at Emily as she exits.)

HANNAH
(Standing to go)
: I should go.

PRIOR
: I’m not insane.

HANNAH
: I didn’t say you—

PRIOR
: I saw an angel.

(She doesn’t respond.)

PRIOR
: That’s insane.

HANNAH
: Well, it’s—

PRIOR
: Insane. But I’m not insane. Do I
seem
insane?

HANNAH
: You . . . I’m not sure I—

PRIOR
: Oh for pityfuckingsake just answer the fucking—

HANNAH
: No.
Driven
, and, and rude, but—

PRIOR
: But then why did I do this to myself? Because I have been driven insane by . . . your son and by that lying . . . Because I’m consumed by this ice-cold, razorblade terror that shouts and shouts, “Don’t stay still get out of bed keep moving! Run!” And I’ve run myself into the ground. Right where She said I’d eventually be.

     
What’s happened to me?

     
She seemed so real.

HANNAH
: Who?

     
Oh, the . . .
(Angel gesture)

(Prior nods yes
.

     
Hannah hesitates, then:)

HANNAH
: Could be you had a vision.

PRIOR
: A vision. Thank you, Maria Ouspenskaya.

HANNAH
: People have visions.

PRIOR
: No they—Not sane people.

HANNAH
(A beat before deciding to say this)
: One hundred and seventy years ago, which is recent, an angel of God appeared to Joseph Smith. In Upstate New York, not far from here.

PRIOR
: But that’s ridiculous, that’s—

HANNAH
: It’s not polite to call other people’s beliefs ridiculous.

PRIOR
: I didn’t mean to—

HANNAH
: I
believe
this. He had great need of understanding. Our Prophet. His desire made prayer. His prayer made an angel. The angel was real. I believe that.

PRIOR
: I don’t. And I’m sorry but it’s repellent to me. So much of what you believe.

HANNAH
: What do I believe?

PRIOR
: I’m a homosexual. With AIDS. I can just imagine what you—

HANNAH
: No you can’t. Imagine. The things in my head. You don’t make assumptions about me, mister; I won’t make them about you.

PRIOR
(A beat; he looks at her, then)
: Fair enough.

HANNAH
: My son is . . . well, like you.

PRIOR
: Homosexual.

HANNAH
(A nod, then)
: I flew into a rage when he told me, mad as August hornets. At first I assumed it was about his . . .
(She shrugs)

PRIOR
: Homosexuality.

HANNAH
: But that wasn’t it. Homosexuality. I don’t find it an appetizing notion, two men, together, but men in
any
configuration . . . That wasn’t it. Stupidity gets me cross, but that wasn’t it either. I flew into a rage, filled with rage, then the rage . . . lifted me up; I felt . . . Truly I felt lifted up, into the air, and . . .

     
(She laughs to herself)

     
And I flew.

PRIOR
: I wish you would be more true to your demographic profile.

(Little pause. Hannah smiles. They both laugh, a little. Prior’s laugh brings on breathing trouble. Trying to find a comfortable position, he begins to panic.)

HANNAH
: Just lie still. You’ll be all right.

PRIOR
: No. I won’t be. My lungs are getting tighter. The fever mounts and you get delirious. And then days of delirium and awful pain and drugs; you start slipping and then.

     
I really . . . fucked up.

     
(Losing it, crying)
I’m scared. I can’t do it again.

HANNAH
: You shouldn’t talk that way. You ought to make a better show of yourself.

PRIOR
: Look at this . . . horror.

     
(He lifts his shirt; his torso is spotted with several lesions)

     
See? See that? That’s not human. That’s why I run.

(Hannah’s shocked but doesn’t show it; it’s hard to look at, but she manages.)

HANNAH
: It’s a cancer. Nothing more. Nothing more human than that.

(She puts a hand on his shoulder. He calms down. They’re silent for a moment.)

PRIOR
: Do Mormons read the you know the Bible? Or just the—

HANNAH
(Tight, trying not to take offense)
: The Book of Mormon is a part of the—

PRIOR
: Don’t get technical, you know what I mean, the other parts, the Old Testament part.

HANNAH
: I’ve read the—

PRIOR
: The prophets in the Bible, do they . . . ever refuse their visions?

HANNAH
(Considering, then)
: One did. There might be others, I—

PRIOR
: And what does God do to them? When they do that?

HANNAH
: He . . . feeds them to whales.

(Prior laughs, Hannah joins him, they’re both a little hysterical. The laughter subsides.)

PRIOR
: Stay with me.

HANNAH
: Oh no, I—

PRIOR
: Just till I sleep? You comfort me.

HANNAH
: Oh, I—

PRIOR
: You do, you
. . . (A little Katharine Hepburn)
stiffen my spine.

(Little pause.)