Angels in America: A Gay Fantasia on National Themes: Revised and Complete Edition (4 page)

LOUIS
: No.

     
Really?

PRIOR
: You don’t notice anything. If I hadn’t spent the last four years fellating you I’d swear you were straight.

LOUIS
: You’re in a pissy mood. Cat still missing?

(Little pause.)

PRIOR
: Not a furball in sight. It’s your fault.

LOUIS
: It is?

PRIOR
: I warned you, Louis. Names are important. Call an animal Little Sheba and you can’t expect it to stick around. Besides, it’s a dog’s name.

LOUIS
: I wanted a dog in the first place, not a cat. He sprayed my books.

PRIOR
: He was a female cat.

LOUIS
: Cats are stupid, high-strung predators. Babylonians sealed them up in bricks. Dogs have brains.

PRIOR
: Cats have intuition.

LOUIS
: A sharp dog is as smart as a really dull two-year-old child.

PRIOR
: Cats know when something’s wrong.

LOUIS
: Only if you stop feeding them.

PRIOR
: They know. That’s why Sheba left, because she knew.

LOUIS
: Knew what?

(Pause.)

PRIOR
: I did my best Shirley Booth this morning, floppy slippers, housecoat, curlers, can of Little Friskies: “Come back, Little Sheba, come back . . .” To no avail. Le chat, elle ne reviendra jamais, jamais . . .

(He removes his jacket, rolls up his sleeve, shows Louis a dark purple spot on the underside of his arm near the shoulder.)

PRIOR
: See.

LOUIS
: That’s just a burst blood vessel.

PRIOR
: Not according to the best medical authorities.

LOUIS
: What?

     
(Pause)

     
Tell me.

PRIOR
: K.S., baby. Lesion number one. Lookit. The wine-dark kiss of the angel of death.

LOUIS
(Very softly, holding Prior’s arm)
: Oh please . . .

PRIOR
: I’m a lesionnaire. The Foreign Lesion. The American Lesion. Lesionnaire’s disease.

LOUIS
: Stop.

PRIOR
: My troubles are lesion.

LOUIS
: Will you
stop
.

PRIOR
: Don’t you think I’m handling this well?

     
I’m going to die.

LOUIS
: Bullshit.

PRIOR
: Let go of my arm.

LOUIS
: No.

PRIOR
: Let go.

LOUIS
(Grabbing Prior, embracing him ferociously)
: No.

PRIOR
: I can’t find a way to spare you, baby. No wall like the wall of hard scientific fact. K.S. Wham. Bang your head on that.

LOUIS
: Fuck you.
(Letting go)
Fuck you fuck you fuck you.

PRIOR
: Now that’s what I like to hear. A mature reaction.

     
Let’s go see if the cat’s come home.

     
Louis?

LOUIS
: When did you find this?

PRIOR
: I couldn’t tell you.

LOUIS
: Why?

PRIOR
: I was scared, Lou.

LOUIS
: Of what?

PRIOR
: That you’ll leave me.

LOUIS
: Oh.

(Little pause.)

PRIOR
: Bad timing, funeral and all, but I figured as long as we’re on the subject of death.

LOUIS
: I have to go bury my grandma.

PRIOR
: Lou?

     
(Pause)

     
Then you’ll come home?

LOUIS
: Then I’ll come home.

Scene 5

Same day. Split scene: Joe and Harper at home, as before; Louis at the cemetery after his family has gone, lingering behind, staring down at Sarah Ironson’s coffin in her open grave
.

HARPER
: Washington?

JOE
: It’s an incredible honor, buddy, and—

HARPER
: I have to think.

JOE
: Of course.

HARPER
: Say no.

JOE
: You said you were going to think about it.

HARPER
: I don’t want to move to Washington.

JOE
: Well I do.

HARPER
: It’s a giant cemetery, huge white graves and mausoleums everywhere.

JOE
: We could live in Maryland. Or Georgetown.

HARPER
: We’re happy here.

JOE
: That’s not really true, buddy, we—

HARPER
: Well happy enough! Pretend-happy. That’s better than nothing.

JOE
: It’s time to make some changes, Harper.

HARPER
: No changes. Why?

JOE
: I’ve been chief clerk for four years. I make twenty-nine-thousand dollars a year. That’s ridiculous. I graduated fourth in my class and I make less than anyone I know. And I’m . . . I’m tired of being a clerk, I want to go where something good is happening.

HARPER
: Nothing good happens in Washington. We’ll forget church teachings and buy furniture at, at,
Conran’s
and become yuppies. I have too much to do here.

JOE
: Like what?

HARPER
: I
do
have things.

JOE
: What things?

HARPER
: I have to finish painting the bedroom.

JOE
: You’ve been painting in there for over a year.

HARPER
: I know, I— It just isn’t done because I never get time to finish it.

JOE
: Oh that’s . . . That doesn’t make sense. You have all the time in the world. You could finish it when I’m at work.

HARPER
: I’m afraid to go in there alone.

JOE
: Afraid of what?

HARPER
: I heard someone in there. Metal scraping on the wall. A man with a knife, maybe.

JOE
: There’s no one in the bedroom, Harper.

HARPER
: Not now.

JOE
: Not this morning either.

HARPER
: How do you know? You were at work this morning.

     
There’s something creepy about this place. Remember
Rosemary’s Baby
?

JOE
:
Rosemary’s Baby?

HARPER
: Our apartment looks like that one. Wasn’t that apartment in Brooklyn?

JOE
: No, it was—

HARPER
: Well, it looked like this. It did.

JOE
: Then let’s move.

HARPER
: Georgetown’s worse.
The Exorcist
was in Georgetown.

JOE
: The devil, everywhere you turn, huh, buddy.

HARPER
: Yeah. Everywhere.

JOE
: How many pills today, buddy?

HARPER
: None. One. Three. Only three.

(At the cemetery: Rabbi Isidor Chemelwitz, heading home, walks past Louis, who is still staring into the grave. Louis stops the Rabbi with a question.)

LOUIS
: Why are there just two little wooden pegs holding the lid down?

RABBI ISIDOR CHEMELWITZ
: So she can get out easier if she wants to.

LOUIS
: I hope she stays put.

     
I pretended for years that she was already dead. When they called to say she had died it was a surprise. I abandoned her.

RABBI ISIDOR CHEMELWITZ
: “Sharfer vi di tson fun a shlang iz an umdankbar kind!”

LOUIS
: I don’t speak Yiddish.

RABBI ISIDOR CHEMELWITZ
: “Sharper than the serpent’s tooth is the ingratitude of children.” Shakespeare.
Kenig Lear
.

LOUIS
: Rabbi, what does the Holy Writ say about someone who abandons someone he loves at a time of great need?

RABBI ISIDOR CHEMELWITZ
: Why would a person do such a thing?

LOUIS
: Because he has to.

     
Maybe because this person’s sense of the world, that it will change for the better with struggle, maybe a person who has this neo-Hegelian positivist sense of constant historical progress towards happiness or perfection or something, who feels very powerful because he feels connected to these forces, moving uphill all the time . . . Maybe that person can’t, um, incorporate sickness into his sense of how things are supposed to go. Maybe vomit . . . and sores and disease . . . really frighten him, maybe . . . he isn’t so good with death.

RABBI ISIDOR CHEMELWITZ
: The Holy Scriptures have nothing to say about such a person.

LOUIS
: Rabbi, I’m afraid of the crimes I may commit.

RABBI ISIDOR CHEMELWITZ
: Please, mister. I’m a sick old rabbi facing a long drive home to the Bronx. You want to confess, better you should find a priest.

LOUIS
: But I’m not a Catholic, I’m a Jew.

RABBI ISIDOR CHEMELWITZ
: Worse luck for you, bubbulah. Catholics believe in Forgiveness. Jews believe in Guilt.

(The Rabbi turns to leave.)

LOUIS
: You just make sure those pegs are in good and tight.

(The Rabbi stops, looks down into the grave, then at Louis:)

RABBI ISIDOR CHEMELWITZ
: Don’t worry, mister. The life she had, she’ll stay put. She’s better off.

(The Rabbi exits. Louis looks into the grave, one last, quick glance, then follows.)

JOE
: Look, I know this is scary for you. But try to understand what it means to me. Will you try?

HARPER
: Yes.

JOE
: Good. Really try.

     
I think things are starting to change in the world.

HARPER
: But I don’t want—

JOE
: Wait. For the good. Change for the good. America has rediscovered itself. Its sacred position among nations. And people aren’t ashamed of that like they used to be. This is a great thing. The truth restored. Law restored. That’s what President Reagan’s done, Harper. He says: “Truth exists and can be spoken proudly.” And the country responds to him. We become better. More good. I need to be a part of that, I need something big to lift me up. I mean, six years ago the world seemed in decline, horrible, hopeless, full of unsolvable problems and crime and confusion and hunger and—

HARPER
: But it still seems that way. More now than before. They say the ozone layer is—

JOE
: Harper . . .

HARPER
: And today out the window on Atlantic Avenue there was a schizophrenic traffic cop who was making these—

JOE
: Stop it! I’m trying to make a point.

HARPER
: So am I.

JOE
: You aren’t even making sense, you—

HARPER
: My point is the world seems just as—

JOE
: It only seems that way to you because you never go out in the world, Harper, and you have emotional problems.

HARPER
: I do so get out in the world.

JOE
: You don’t. You stay in all day, fretting about imaginary—

HARPER
: I get out. I do. You don’t know what I do.

JOE
: You don’t stay in all day.

HARPER
: No.

JOE
: Well . . . Yes you do.

HARPER
: That’s what you think.

JOE
: Where do you go?