Authors: Tony Kushner
HARPER
: Where's that?
    Â
(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.
    Â
Here's why I wanted to stay in Brooklyn. The Promenade view.
    Â
Water won't ever accomplish the end. No matter how much you cry. Flood's not the answer, people just float.
    Â
Let's go home.
    Â
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 youâ
PRIOR
: I saw an angel.
(She doesn't respond.)
PRIOR
: That's insane.
HANNAH
: Well, it'sâ
PRIOR
: Insane. But I'm not insane. Do I
seem
insane?
HANNAH
: You . . . I'm not sure Iâ
PRIOR
: Oh for pityfuckingsake just answer the fuckingâ
HANNAH
: No.
Driven
, and, and rude, butâ
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.
    Â
What's happened to me?
    Â
She seemed so real.
HANNAH
: Who?
    Â
Oh, the . . .
(Angel gesture)
(Prior nods yes
.
    Â
Hannah hesitates, then:)
HANNAH
: Could be you had a vision.
PRIOR
: A vision. Thank you, Maria Ouspenskaya.
HANNAH
: People have visions.
PRIOR
: No theyâNot 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'sâ
HANNAH
: It's not polite to call other people's beliefs ridiculous.
PRIOR
: I didn't mean toâ
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 youâ
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 . . .
    Â
(She laughs to herself)
    Â
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.
    Â
I really . . . fucked up.
    Â
(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.
    Â
(He lifts his shirt; his torso is spotted with several lesions)
    Â
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 theâ
HANNAH
(Tight, trying not to take offense)
: The Book of Mormon is a part of theâ
PRIOR
: Don't get technical, you know what I mean, the other parts, the Old Testament part.
HANNAH
: I've read theâ
PRIOR
: The prophets in the Bible, do they . . . ever refuse their visions?
HANNAH
(Considering, then)
: One did. There might be others, Iâ
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, Iâ
PRIOR
: Just till I sleep? You comfort me.
HANNAH
: Oh, Iâ
PRIOR
: You do, you
. . . (A little Katharine Hepburn)
stiffen my spine.
(Little pause.)
HANNAH
: I'm not needed elsewhere, I suppose I . . .
    Â
(She thinks for a moment, then sits in a chair)
    Â
When I got up this morning this is not how I envisioned the day would end.
PRIOR
: Me neither.
(He lies back, and she settles into her chair.)
HANNAH
: An angel is a belief. With wings and arms that can carry you. If it lets you down, reject it.
(Prior looks at her.)
PRIOR
: Huh.
HANNAH
: There's scriptural precedent.
PRIOR
: And then what?
HANNAH
(A little shrug, then)
: Seek something new.
Scene 9
That night, the rain's still falling. The Pitt apartment in Brooklyn. Joe and Harper's clothing is strewn about the floor
.
Joe enters from the bedroom in a pair of boxers. He picks up his shirt, puts it on and starts to button it. He stops when Harper enters, wrapped in a bedsheet, naked underneath. He hesitates a beat, then resumes buttoning
.
HARPER
: When we have sex. Why do you keep your eyes closed?
JOE
: I don't.
HARPER
: You always do. You can say why, I already know the answer.
JOE
: Then why do I have toâ
HARPER
: You imagine things.
    Â
Imagine men.
JOE
: Yes.
HARPER
: Imagining, just like me, except the only time I wasn't imagining was when I was with you. You, the one part of the real world I wasn't allergic to.
JOE
: Please. Don't.
HARPER
: But I only
thought
I wasn't dreaming.
(Joe picks up his pants. Harper watches him as he puts them on, then:)
HARPER
: Oh. Oh. Back in Brooklyn, back with Joe.
JOE
(Still dressing, not looking at Harper)
: I'm going out. I have to get some stuff I left behind.
HARPER
: Look at me.
(He doesn't. He puts on his socks and shoes.)
HARPER
: Look at me.
    Â
Look at me.
    Â
Here! Look here at
â
JOE
(Looking at her): What?
HARPER
: What do you see?
JOE
: What do I . . .?
HARPER
: What do you see?
JOE
:
Nothing
, Iâ
    Â
(Little pause)
    Â
I see nothing.
HARPER
(A nod, then)
: Finally. The truth.
JOE
(A beat, then)
: I'm going. Out. Just . . . Out.
(He exits.)
HARPER
: It sets you free.
    Â
Good-bye.
Scene 10
Later that night. Louis is in his apartment, sitting on the floor; all around him are Xeroxed pages stapled together in thick packets. Louis is reading one of these
.
There's a knock at the door
.
JOE
(Outside the apartment)
: Louis.
    Â
Please let me in.
(Louis looks at the Xeroxed packets, fixes a grim little smile on his face, stands, unlocks the door, then immediately returns to his place on the floor.)
LOUIS
: You're in.
(A little pause, then Joe turns the knob, opens the door and enters. He looks at Louis, who's ignoring him, continuing to read.)
JOE
: You weren't at work. For three days now. You . . . I wish you'd get a phone.
    Â
I'm staying in a hotel, near Fulton Street. It's kind ofâ
    Â
You said you'd call me, orâ
LOUIS
(Still reading)
: No I never.