Читать книгу Prodigal Son (TCG Edition) - John Patrick Shanley - Страница 11

SCENE 1

Music establishes quiet tension. A spotlight. There’s a paperback on the floor. Jim Quinn enters from the surrounding dark, picks up the book. He’s in a white shirt, navy sports jacket, black pants, oxfords, skinny black tie. He’s from the Bronx, and sounds it. He quietly says to the audience:

JIM: I always had a book. I was fifteen. Do you remember fifteen? For me, it was a special, beautiful room in Hell.

(More light. Sound of a train.)

I came by train. Mr. Schmitt and I met at a diner in Keene, New Hampshire. 1965.

(Carl Schmitt enters, crew cut, New England reserve, early forties, also in a jacket and tie. He and Jim sit in a diner booth. Carl figures out Jim’s credits on a napkin. They have a stainless steel pot of tea. Jim forgets the audience.)

MR. SCHMITT: Jim.

JIM: Mr. Schmitt!

MR. SCHMITT: I read your transcript, Jim. You’ve had a pretty bumpy two years.

JIM: Yes, I guess I have.

MR. SCHMITT: Can I ask you something?

JIM: Sure.

MR. SCHMITT: It says you were suspended for saying you didn’t believe in God. Is that true?

JIM: It’s true that I said it, but I didn’t mean it.

MR. SCHMITT: Then why did you say it?

JIM: I just was trying to wake the teacher up. Brother Henry. He taught Religion, but the way he taught it, he just read from the book. He didn’t like questions. So I raised my hand and said I didn’t believe in God to see what he’d do.

MR. SCHMITT: And what did he do?

JIM: Well, it definitely woke him up, but he wasn’t happy. He sent me to the principal.

MR. SCHMITT: It’s a serious thing to say you don’t believe in God, Jim.

JIM: That’s what the principal said. He suspended me.

MR. SCHMITT: What got into you?

JIM: Just crazy stuff.

MR. SCHMITT: What?

JIM: Well, the thought came into my head to say I didn’t believe in God, and I thought, “Who put that thought there?” And I thought it was probably God, you know?

MR. SCHMITT: What if it was the Other Guy?

JIM: I don’t think so. I feel like the Devil would want me to be lazy, and God would want me to speak.

MR. SCHMITT: You’re fifteen?

JIM: Yeah. Yes. I’ll be sixteen in October.

MR. SCHMITT: I teach Religion. Comparative Religion. But unlike your friend Brother Henry, I don’t read to the class from a book. I understand you attended a retreat this summer at my school, sponsored by Opus Dei.

JIM: Yes.

MR. SCHMITT: To see if you wanted to be a priest.

JIM: I didn’t. I don’t.

MR. SCHMITT: How’d you get involved with Opus Dei?

JIM: Mr. Benishek, my Political Science teacher brought me to their house. They kind of adopted me.

MR. SCHMITT: Lot of smart people at Opus Dei.

JIM: And The John Birch Society.

MR. SCHMITT: What’s that?

JIM: Mr. Benishek. He took me to hear The John Birch Society, too. You know, a speaker.

MR. SCHMITT: What did you think?

(Jim laughs.)

JIM: Oh, he messed up.

MR. SCHMITT: In what way?

JIM: He said bad stuff about President Kennedy to a bunch of Irish Catholics in the Bronx. They almost lynched him.

MR. SCHMITT: But what did you think of the speaker?

JIM: I thought he was crazy. But I liked hearing what he said because I’d just never heard anybody talk like that. I like things I haven’t thought of.

MR. SCHMITT: Is that why you went on the retreat?

JIM: Pretty much. I never really thought I’d be a priest. My mother’d like it.

MR. SCHMITT: You met a member of our faculty at the retreat. Alan Hoffman.

JIM: He told you about that?

MR. SCHMITT: He said you were very good at Charades.

JIM: He did?

MR. SCHMITT: He was amazed. Apparently you guessed The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám after one clue.

JIM: I really like that poem.

MR. SCHMITT: Why?

JIM: I don’t know. I’d like to live like that guy.

MR. SCHMITT: You mean, drink a lot of wine?

(Jim laughs.)

JIM: No. He’s just not . . . There’s no misery, you know? You know that poem?

MR. SCHMITT: Sure.

JIM: He saw day and night like a chessboard, and God was a big finger writing in the sky. He just seemed to see things so . . . he saw the size of things. And he was free. Happy. He saw Time goes really fast. I think that, too. Life is so short.

MR. SCHMITT: If you only live in the physical, it is short, but some people think beyond their own lives. “The future’s more beautiful than now.”

JIM: It is?

MR. SCHMITT: A French theologian named Teilhard de Chardin said that. He believes that we’re headed somewhere as a race, to a moment of epiphany. He calls it the Omega Point.

JIM: The Omega Point. Sounds like a science fiction movie.

MR. SCHMITT: Yes. So why do you think you did so badly in your last school?

JIM: I don’t know. I felt like I was trying but I just couldn’t do it. The building was ugly. All the classrooms, everything looked like a kitchen. It made me feel bleak.

MR. SCHMITT: Lot of students?

JIM: Yes.

MR. SCHMITT: Thomas More is different than that. The main building’s an old mansion, and the student body is very small. Do you know who Thomas More was?

JIM: He was a martyr. He wouldn’t lie about what he believed. So the king had him killed.

MR. SCHMITT: I’m surprised you didn’t do better on the IQ test.

JIM: I used to do good on them.

MR. SCHMITT: Well.

JIM: Excuse me?

MR. SCHMITT: You used to do well on them.

JIM: Right. I used to do well on IQ tests. I think IQ tests make me nervous now.

MR. SCHMITT: Why?

JIM: I see how the questions could have a lot of different answers, and the answer choices never seem to include something I can completely agree with so it makes me feel like something is wrong. My brother Tom loved taking IQ tests. He’s older than me.

MR. SCHMITT: What’s he doing now?

JIM: Vietnam.

MR. SCHMITT: You proud of him?

JIM: Sure.

MR. SCHMITT: Well, the way I figure your credits, you can go into junior year.

JIM: I can?

MR. SCHMITT: Barely but yes. I’ll give you a scholarship for the tuition, but your parents will have to pay for your room and board.

JIM: Is that a lot of money?

MR. SCHMITT: It’s not too bad, no.

JIM: How much?

MR. SCHMITT: Nine hundred dollars.

JIM: Sounds like a lot.

MR. SCHMITT: Your mother said it was all right.

JIM: Well, she’s the bookkeeper. Why would you give me a scholarship? I flunked everything.

MR. SCHMITT: I think you can do the work. And your mother cried on the phone.

JIM: She did?

MR. SCHMITT: A little.

JIM: She called from work, you know, ’cause it’s free. She’s a telephone operator.

MR. SCHMITT: Yes, I could hear the other operators in the background.

JIM: She’ll be happy I have somewhere to go. She was pretty worried.

MR. SCHMITT: What about you?

JIM: I was pretty worried, too. Like I said. I had nowhere to go.

MR. SCHMITT: Well, make use of the opportunity. All right. I’ve got to get back. When does the train come?

JIM: In about two hours.

MR. SCHMITT: Not too bad. You’ll be all right?

(Jim holds up a thick paperback.)

JIM: Sure. I have a book.

MR. SCHMITT: What is it?

JIM: Interpretation of Dreams. I got it across the street.

MR. SCHMITT: Sigmund Freud.

JIM: I started it. I like reading the dreams, not what they mean.

MR. SCHMITT: Why’s that?

JIM: I think the dreams are really interesting, but when he says what they mean . . . I don’t know. It doesn’t ring a bell.

(Mr. Schmitt gets up and offers his hand.)

MR. SCHMITT: Well. See you soon.

JIM: Thank you, sir.

MR. SCHMITT: Very good. I’ll call your mother.

JIM: Thank you.

(Mr. Schmitt goes. Jim drinks his tea, mellow, and comments quietly to the audience:)

And I thought, “Wow. I’m saved.”

(He gets up.)

I stole this book.

(We hear ticking. Music. The main building appears. It’s an old mansion repurposed as a school. Jim looks at it.)

That’s the main building at Thomas More School. Harrisville, New Hampshire. Fall semester.

(Jim starts toward the building, then disappears.)