Authors: Tennessee Williams
Vieux Carre (7 page)
A dim light comes up on the writer, stage front, as narrator
.
WRITER
: The basement of the building had been leased by Mrs. Wire to a fashionable youngish photographer, one T. Hamilton Biggs, a very effete man he was, who had somehow acquired a perfect Oxford accent in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He made a good living in New Orleans out of artfully lighted photos of debutantes and society matrons in the Garden District, but for his personal
amusementâ
he also photographed, more realistically, some of the many young drifters to be found along the streets of the Vieux Carré.
[
The lights go up on the kitchen. Mrs. Wire is seen at the stove, which bears steaming pots of water
.]
MRS. WIRE
[
to the writer
]: Aw, it's you sneakin' in at two A.M. like a thief.
WRITER
: Yes, uh, good night.
MRS. WIRE
: Hold on, don't go up yet. He's at it again down there, he's throwin' one of his orgies, and this'll be the last one he throws down there. By God an' by Jesus, the society folk in this city may tolerate vice but not me. Take one of them pots off the stove.
WRITER
: You're, uh . . . cooking at this hour?
MRS. WIRE
: Not cooking . . . I'm boiling water! I take this pot and you take the other one, we'll pour this water through the hole in this kitchen floor, which is directly over that studio of his!
WRITER
: Mrs. Wire, I can't be involved in . . .
MRS. WIRE
: Boy, you're employed by me, you're fed and housed here, and you do like I tell you or you'll go on the street. [
She lifts a great kettle off the stove
.] Take that pot off the stove! [
She empties the steaming water on the floor. Almost instant screams are heard below
.] Hahh, down there, what's the disturbance over?!
WRITER
: Mrs. Wire, that man has taken out a peace warrant against you, you know that.
MRS. WIRE
: Git out of my way, you shifty-eyed
littleâ
[
With demonical energy she seizes the other pot and empties it onto the floor, and the screams continue. She looks and runs to the proscenium as if peering out a window
.] Two of 'em run out naked. Got two of you, I'm not done with you yet! . . . you perverts!
WRITER
: Mrs. Wire, he'll call the police.
MRS. WIRE
: Let him, just let him, my nephew is a lieutenant on the police force! But these Quarter police, why anybody can buy 'em, and that Biggs, he's got big money. Best we be quiet, sit tight. Act real casual-like. If they git in that door, you seen a, you seen
aâ
WRITER
: What?
MRS. WIRE
: A drunk spillin' water in here.
WRITER
: . . . that much water?
MRS. WIRE
:
Hush up!
One contradictory word out of you and I'll brain you with this saucepan here.
[
Nightingale enters in his robe
.]
NIGHTINGALE
: May I inquire what this bedlam is about? [
He pants for breath
.] I had just finally managed to . . . [
He gasps
.] This hellish disturbance . . .
MRS. WIRE
: May you inquire, yeah, you may inquire. Look. Here's the story! You're in a doped-up condition. Drunk and doped-up you staggered against the stove and accidentally knocked a kettle of boiling water off it. Now that's the story you'll tell in payment of back rent and your habits! . . . disgracing my house!
NIGHTINGALE
[
to writer
]: What is she talking about?
MRS. WIRE
: And
you
. . .
one eye!
[
She turns to the writer
.] You say you witnessed it, you back up the story, you heah?
WRITER
[
grinning
]: Mrs. Wire, the story wouldn't . . . hold water.
MRS. WIRE
: I said accidental. In his condition who'd doubt it?
NIGHTINGALE
: Hoo, hoo, hoo!
MRS. WIRE
: That night court buzzard on the bench, he'd throw the book at me for no reason but the fight that I've put up against the corruption and evil that this Quarter is built on! All I'm asking is . . .
[
Abruptly Miss Carrie and Mary Maude in outrageous negligees burst into the kitchen. At the sight of them, Mrs. Wire starts to scream wordlessly as a peacock at a pitch that stuns the writer but not Nightingale and the crones. Just as abruptly she falls silent and flops into a chair
.]
MISS CARRIE
: Oh, Mrs. Wire!
MARY MAUDE
: We thought the house had caught fire!
NIGHTINGALE
[
loftily
]: . . . What a remarkable . . .
tableau vivant
. . . The paddy wagon's approaching. Means night court, you know.
WRITER
: . . . I think I'll . . . go to bed now . . .
MRS. WIRE
: Like shoot you will!
[
Jane appears, stage right, in a robe. She speaks to the writer, who is nearest to her
.]
JANE
: Can you tell me what is going on down here?
WRITER
: Miss Sparks, why don't you stay in your room right now?
JANE
: Why?
WRITER
: There's been a terrible incident down here, I think the police are coming.
[
Mary Maude screams, wringing her hands
.]
MARY MAUDE
: Police!
MISS CARRIE
: Oh, Mary Maude, this is not time for hysterics. You're not involved, nor am I! We simply came in to see what the disturbance was about.
JANE
[
to the writer
]: Was Tye here? Was Tye involved in this . . .
WRITER
[
in a low voice to Jane
]: Nobody was involved but Mrs. Wire. She poured boiling water through a hole in the floor.
MRS. WIRE
[
like a field marshal
]: Everybody in here stay here and sit tight till the facts are reported.
[
Nursie enters with black majesty. She is humming a church hymn softly, “He walks with me and he talks with me.” She remains at the edge of the action, calm as if unaware
.]
I meant ev'ry goddam one of you except Nursie. Nursie! Don't stand there singin' gospel, barefoot, in that old dirty nightgown!
WRITER
[
to Jane
]: She wants us to support a totally false story.
MRS. WIRE
: I tell
youâ
the Vieux Carré is the new Babylon destroyed by evil in Scriptures!!
JANE
: It's like a dream . . .
NIGHTINGALE
: The photographer downstairs belongs to the Chateau family, one of the finest and most important families in the Garden District.
MRS. WIRE
: Oh, do you write the social register now?
NIGHTINGALE
: I know he is New Orleans's most prominent society photographer!
MRS. WIRE
: I know he's the city's most notorious pervert and is occupying space in my building!
MISS CARRIE
: Mary Maude and I can't afford the notoriety of a thing like this.
[
Mary Maude cries out and leans against the table
.]
MARY MAUDE
: Mrs. Wire, Miss Carrie and I
haveâ
positions to maintain!
JANE
: Mrs. Wire, surely there's no need for these ladies to be involved in this.
MRS. WIRE
: Deadbeats, all, all! Will stay right here
andâ
JANE
: Do what?
MRS. WIRE
: âtestify to what happened!
NIGHTINGALE
: She wishes you all to corroborate her lie! That I, that I! Oh, yes, I'm appointed to assume responsibility
forâ
PHOTOGRAPHER
[
off stage
]: Right up there! Burns like this could disfigure me for life!
[
Mrs. Wire rushes to slam and bolt the door
.]
MISS CARRIE
[
to Mary Maude
]: Honey? Can you move now?
MRS. WIRE
: No, she cain't, she
staysâ
which applies to you all!
PHOTOGRAPHER
: The fact that she is insane and allowed to remain at large . . . doesn't excuse it.
[
A patrolman bangs at the door
.]
MRS. WIRE
: Shh! Nobody make a sound!
PHOTOGRAPHER
: Not only she but her tenants; why, the place is a psycho ward.
[
More banging is heard
.]
MRS. WIRE
: What's this banging about?
PATROLMAN
: Open this door.
PHOTOGRAPHER
: One of my guests was the nephew of the District Attorney!
PATROLMAN
: Open or I'll force it.
PHOTOGRAPHER
: Break it in! Kick it open!
MRS. WIRE
: [
galvanized
]: You ain't comin' in here, you got no warrant to enter, you
filthyâ
morphodite, you!
WRITER
: Mrs. Wire, you said not to make a sound.
MRS. WIRE
: Make no sound when they're breakin' in my house, you one-eyed Jack? [
The banging continues
.] What's the meaning of this, wakin' me up at two
A.M.
in the mawnin'?
PHOTOGRAPHER
: Scalded! Five guests, including two art models!
MRS. WIRE
[
overlapping
]: You broken the terms of your lease, and it's now broke. I rented you that downstair space for legitimate business, you turned it into
aâ
continual awgy!
PATROLMAN
: Open that door, ma'am, people have been seriously injured.
MRS. WIRE
: That's no concern of mine! I open no door till I phone my nephew, a lieutenant on the police force, Jim Flynn, who knows the situation I've put up with here, and then we'll see who calls the law on who!
WRITER
: I hear more police sirens comin'.
[
The pounding and shouting continue. A patrolman forces entry, followed by another. All during the bit just preceding, Miss Carie and Mary Maude have clung together, their terrified
whispers maintaining a low-pitched threnody to the shouting and banging. Now as the two patrolmen enter, their hysteria erupts in shrill screams. The screams are so intense that the patrolmen's attention is directed upon them
.]
PATROLMAN 1
: Christ! Is this a fuckin' madhouse?
[
Still clinging together, the emaciated crones sink to their knees as if at the feet of an implacable deity
.]
MRS. WIRE
[
inspired
]: Officers, remove these demented, old horrors. Why, you know what they done? Poured water on the floor of my kitchen, boiling water!
NIGHTINGALE
: She's lying. These unfortunate old ladies just came in, they thought the house was on fire.
PHOTOGRAPHER
: This woman is the notorious Mrs. Wire, and it was she who screamed out the window. Why, these old women should be hospitalized, naturally, but it's her, her! [
He points at Mrs. Wire from the door
.] that poured the scalding water into my studio, and screamed with delight when my art models and guests ran naked into the street!
MRS. WIRE
: There, now, AWGY CONFESSED!!
PATROLMAN 2
: All out to the wagon!
[
The scene is dimmed out fast. A spot comes up on the writer in the witness box at night court
.]
OLD JUDGE'S VOICE
: Let's not have no more beatin' aroun' the bush in this court, young fellow. The question is plain. You're under oath to give an honest answer. Now for the last time, at risk of being held in contempt of court, “Did you or did you not see the proprietor of the rooming house. . .”
MRS. WIRE'S VOICE
[
shrilly
]: Restaurant and roomin' house respectfully run!
[
The judge pounds his gavel
.]
OLD JUDGE'S VOICE
: Defendant will keep silent during the witness' testimony. To repeat the question: “Did you or did you not see this lady here pour boiling water through the floor of her kitchen down into the studio of Mr. T. Hamilton Biggs?”
WRITER
[
swallows, then in a low voice
]: I, uh . . . think it's unlikely . . . a lady would do such a thing.
OLD JUDGE'S VOICE
: Speak up so I can heah you! What's that you said?
WRITER
: . . . I said I thought it very unlikely a lady would do such a thing.
[
Laughter is heard in the night court. The judge gavels, then pronounces the verdict
.]
OLD JUDGE'S VOICE
: This court finds the defendant, Mrs. Hortense Wire, guilty as charged and imposes a fine of fifty dollars plus damages and releases her on probation in the custody of her nephew, Police Lieutenant James Flynn of New Orleans Parish, for a period of . . .
[
His voice fades out as does the scene. A spotlight comes up on Mrs. Wire in a flannel robe, drinking at the kitchen table. The writer appears hesitantly at the edge of the kitchen light
.]