Bradbury, Ray - SSC 10 (13 page)

finn
hustles
to nail it on the wall.

Finn
(squinting)
You
got a teeny fine hand, Father. You can't see it
six inches off!

The Old Man
Sick
transits,
what, what?

Father
Gloria
mundi
!

The Old Man
And
what does it mean again, Nolan?

Father

Everything
passes away!
(To
the salesman)
Including
you, sir! Get out,
begone
! I banish you from
Heeber
Finn's. I banish you
from the streets of our town and the town itself!

The Salesman
(backing
off)

You
do indeed. It's a bunch of holy nitwits from an asylum, the
town is,
I'll
not be
back!

Father
That you won't.

father leary
advances
upon the man, who backs to the door.

Get
on! Go sell your pagan bits in
Kennywell
, St.
Bridget's and
Meynooth
!

The Salesman
And
thanks, I will!

the salesman
backs
out.
The double gates slam-wriggle.

Father
Watch
out! Don't trip over your tail!

The Old Man
(spying
out the window)
There he goes! He
does
walk funny!

nolan
is at the wall, squinting at the paper.

Nolan
(muttering)
Sic transit
—

All the men look proudly at
father leary,
who
turns to look at
them.

finn
puts a glass
on the bar and fills it. He nods,
father
leary
walks to the bar and looks at the drink.

Finn
Thank you, Father.

father leary
picks
up the drink, eyes it against the light.

Father
It's the
least I could do, for an annex of the church!

He circles his drink to take in the whole of the pub. He downs
the drink.

Well,
now!

He walks back to the door.

The Old Man

Father!
Was it wise to tell him to go sell his heathen signs to
other towns?

Father

Ah,
that's not my problem. That's the problem of the good
fathers in
Kennywell
, St.
Bridget's, and
Meynooth
. It's good in
a way that the Devil passes by and gives us a whack
and a shake
and wakes us up. If I had
my mind, the Fiend would make a
grand
tour of
Ireland
twice a year!

The Old Man
And
maybe he does, Father!

Father
(muses)
Yes
. Maybe he does.

Finn
Is he gone,
now,
Father
?

FATHER LEARY
peers
OUt
.

Father

The
road is empty. Our trial is over. All right, then! Tonight,
from seven till nine, the church is open, the
booth waiting, and
me inside the
booth!

Nolan
We'll be
there, Father!

They hold out their drinks and drink to him.

Father
(surprised
and pleased)
By God, I think you
will!

He exits

There is a moment of silence.

Timulty
(sighs)
Well, this is a day will go down
in
Kilcock's
history.

Casey
It was a
near thing. I almost went home to the wife . . .

TlMULTY

I
almost put in for a job at the
pusstoffice
.

The Old Man
When
the Father saved us all.

Timulty
(musing)

It
will be known as the day the Fiend was thrown out from
Heeber
Finn's.

The Old Man
(nose
to the wall, squinting)
Sic transit
gloria
mundi
.

Nolan
And
what's it
mean?

The Old Man
(flaring)
It's Latin, dimwit! That's what it
means!

finn
has
walked
slow
to the door to look out at the church.

Finn
A strange
man.

Nolan
The salesman?

Finn
(shakes
head)

Father
Leary. Why, I ask myself, why did he tell the salesman
to sell the pagan signs in
Kennywell
,
Meynooth
, and St. Bridg
et's? Why?
Why?

He turns to look at the others, and at the bar. Slowly, his eyes
widen, his eyebrows go up,
his
mouth makes a smile. Suddenly
he
gives a great laugh.

Ah-hah!
Wife!

his wife
appears,
arms over her bosom, glaring.

Bring
more chairs! A dozen!

The Wife
A
dozen?

Finn
Make it two dozen, three, five! And tables!

His
Wife
Tables?

Finn
By sundown
tonight refugees will be
pouring
in here from—

The Old Man
(catching on)
Kennywell
?

Nolan
(enlightened)
Meynooth
?

Casey
And
St. Bridget's!

Finn

There's
no telling where from, how many, how long! It'll be a
grand week end! Woman—Kathleen, sweetheart, have a
drink.

She hesitates, softens,
takes
the drink. He
gives her a buss and a
pinch,
finn
raises his glass.

Here's
to not
stopping,
but going on as always and ever, with no
consideration
for one dainty moment about
thinking
and no
doing
save
as how we always done. Casey, Nolan,
Timulty
, lend
a hand!

Nolan
It's
lent!

The men rush in and out bringing tables and chairs,
finn,
in the flurry, pours a line of little glasses
full. On their way in and out
the men
grab and swallow, hurry on.

Finn
(sings)
"In life,
in strife,
With
maid, with wife!
It's the
drinkin
' . . . !"

The Old Man
(speaks,
running)
"Not the
thinkin'f
"

All
(sing)
"Makes it go!"

The Curtain falls on the beehive.
And . . .

THE
  
END

CHARACTERS

THE YOUNG MAN (
DOUGLAS
)

HEEBER FINN

THE OLD MAN

TIMULTY

DOONE

o'gavin

FOGARTY

NOLAN

KELLY

casey, peevey,
and other assorted
spectators,
door-watchers, time-keepers and
jormer
cham
pions
of the Sprint.

At the rise of curtain we find ourselves not so much in a real
pub as in a sort of a sketch of a pub. A plank laid
across two
high saw-horses will do
for a bar. Men are lined up, or rather
clustered,
at it, having a fine pantomime argument about some
thing, shaking each other's shoulders, waving
their hands, pulling their hats off and on their heads, yanking at one
another's
lapels, pounding their
fists on the bar, and shouting silently,
almost nose-to-nose. As the lights come up, so does the sound
of the men, as if theatrically we were tuning in
on the wildlife
here. Four or five of
the men are having the greatest to-do there
at the rail. Two other men, down front, are Indian-wrestling each other.
Two more are playing darts, hurling the feathered things
through space at a target suspended far to one
side. To the left
a man in a bowler
hat sits on a piano stool playing a tune on
empty space. Though the piano is not there, we can hear it fine.
It is a jolly tune. So jolly that one of the men
in the argument
breaks off, unable to
resist, and jogs about a bit. Still another
fellow somewhere in
all the
melee is munching
on a harmonica,
his eyes soulfully
shut and the banshee mourn of the little machine in his mouth rising and
falling in the smoke and din. An
ardent
fan of his stands near, aching with the melody, mouth
open, watching the great musician tongue and wheeze
along the
contraption. In all, there
are a dozen or so people littered about
the scene. More can be added. Or if need be, some might be
taken away and never missed.

Anyway, here we are in
Heeber
Finn's and
FINN
himself be
hind the bar, singing any tune that strikes his
fancy as he wipes glasses and foams up drinks, adding his own musical bit to
the general commotion.

It is a scene rather like the tumult on a pinball device when
the jackpot is struck, all the lights flash,
miniature guns explode,
fantastic
totals jump about on the Scoreboard, and all the balls
at once seem to rush wild down the ways.

Into this grand scene now walks our writer-hero, or for a time
anyway, villain,
the young man.
He is not a nasty snob, he is just unfamiliar with
things and, like it or not, he looks just a bit
like a Tourist.

With his entrance, some of the activity, or at least the sound
of it, fades down.

the young man
stands
dead-center of the action and looks
about,
tolerantly amused. We hear a few of the cries more
clearly now from some of the men arguing at the
bar.

The Men
{general hubbub)
Doone
!
O'Gavin
!

Devil take
O'Gavin
!

Then
Devil Take
Doone
! He's no Sport at all! Now—
O'Gavin

At which point
the young man
gathers
his observations and
makes his fatal
comment.

The Young Man
Well! It sure looks like a wild
night, here!

It is as if the great blade of the Guillotine had fallen. Silence
chops across all.
the young man
is instantly sorry. Almost in
midflight
, the feathered dart is shot down. The piano
stops. The
harmonica dies in
midwheeze
. The dancer seems suddenly crip
pled. Nobody has turned yet to look at
the young man.
Perhaps
they
are only waiting for this outlander to pack his chagrin and
go away. They will give him enough time. Count to
ten.
the
young man
looks around, looks at
the door, debates heading for it, but stops.

For one man,
timulty,
has broken from the
mob at the bar
and now slowly stalks
out, not looking at
douglas,
only
turning to survey him steadily after he has come full in front of him, his
glass
of stout in his hand.

He drinks from the glass, eyeing
douglas
.
douglas
fidgets. At last,
timulty
speaks.

TlMULTY

Was
that said in scorn or admiration?

The Young Man
I really can't say

TlMULTY

There's
a confusion
in your mind then?

The Young Man
(eagerly
grasping this)
Yes, that's it!

TlMULTY
turns to glance all about.

TlMULTY

He's
confused, boys!

There is a general murmur neither for nor against, in answer to
this,
timulty
turns
back.

Are
you new to
Ireland
, to
Dublin
, and to
Heeber
Finn's
pub?

The Young Man
Er
—all
three
of those, yes!

Timulty
(to his friends)
He's new to all three, boys!

There is a little more affirmative rumble now, exclamations of
"Oh" and "Ah well, then" and
"So that's how it is" mix with
the rest,
timulty
views
douglas
again.

So
it's an orientation program you're in search of?

The Young Man
That's
it!

timulty
eyes
him a moment longer, then waves once, idly, to
his friends.

Timulty
All right, boys!

The tumult and the shouting that had died, without the captains
and the kings departing, now instantaneously
renews itself.
Darts fly. The piano
sounds. The harmonica wails. The men
jump
hip deep into their argumentation.

douglas
views this, impressed, as if suddenly given to see
the vast workings of Big Ben's machinery going full blast.

Timulty's
my name.

The Young Man
Douglas
.

Timulty
Is it a wild night you're looking for?

The Young Man
Well,
I—

Timulty
You think, don't you, there
are no
Wild
Nights in
Ireland
?

The Young Man
I didn't say that
 

Timulty

You
think it. It shows in your eyes. Well, what would you say
if I told you
you
was
at the eye of the hurricane! You're in the
damn earthquake, half-buried to your chin and
don't know it!

The Young Man
Ami?

Timulty

You
are! Here at Finn's pub is the Central Betting Agency for
the greatest Sporting Event of Local Consequence!

The Young Man
Is
it?

Timulty
'
Tis
! Listen! Do you
hear?

The
Men
(yelling again)
Two bob
says you're wrong! Three bob nails you to the wall!

Timulty
(calling over)
Men, what do you think of
Doone
?

Fogarty
His reflex is uncanny!

The Old Man
Doone
hell! My money is on
O'Gavin
! What a Great
Heart!

The Young Man
A
Sporting Event, you say?

Timulty
Come along! Boys, this is Mr. Douglas, from the
States.

General
greetings.

Timulty
Mr. Douglas is in—

The Young Man
Pictures.
I write screenplays for the cinema.

All
Fillums
!

The Young Man
(modestly)
Films.

Timulty
No! It's too much!

The Old Man
Are
you staggered,
Timulty
?

Timulty
I am!

Fogarty
Coincidence!

Nolan
Beyond
belief!

The Young Man
(blinks)
What
is?

The Old Man

Your
occupation and our Sporting Event! They're in the same
bed!

FOGARTY

They're twins!

Timulty

By
God now, you'll not only bet, we'll let you judge! Are you
much for sports? Do you know, for instance, such
things as the cross-country, four-forty, and like man-on-foot excursions?

The Young Man
I've
attended two Olympic Games.

The Old Man
(awed)
Not
just
fillums
,
but the World Competition!

Timulty

Well, now, isn't it time you knew
of the special all-Irish decathlon
event
which has to do with picture theatres?

The Young Man

The Old Man
Shall
we show him, boys?

All

Sure! Fine! On the way! Stand
aside!

Finn
Out it is!
This way!
Doone
, come on!

And before
Douglas
can
protest,
bang!
they are out the
door,
the pub has vanished,
and they run circling through a sort of
mist,
doone,
who, it turns out,
is the man who has been playing the invisible piano, turns last of all and,
dancing around on his
toes, pumping
his legs like a trackman to prime himself, exits
last of all, and soon catches, paces, and fronts the mob.

Finn
Doone
!
Doone
! There you are!

Doone
Does an Event loom?

The Old Man
It
does!

Doone
(dancing ahead)
I'm fit!

The Old Man
You
are!

Timulty
There! We've arrived!

They pull up.
the young man
gazes
around, still not certain
what to look
for.

The Old Man
Will
you read
that?

A marquee with blinking lights has come on above them.

The Young Man
The
. . . Great . . . Fine . . . Arts . . . Cinema.

Timulty
Don't forget "Elite." It's there. But
it's burnt out.

timulty
throws
his cap up to hit the marquee. The missing
word lights feebly and flickeringly.

The Young Man
The
GreatE
/J Fine Arts Elite Cinema Theatre.

FOGARTY

We
have a name for everything, do we not?

Timulty
If the Arts
need
being Greater or
Finer
, this is where you come.

Nolan
Ah,
look at the lights move, will
ya
?

Timulty
Like the fireflies on the meadows with the sun
just set.

The Old Man
{nudges
the writer)
Did
you
hear
him?