JANE: Two a them twenty-six ounces! —Quit that trampin’ around, for Christ’s sake! Can’t you set still a minute?
MOONY: Naw, I feel like I got to be moving.
JANE: Maybe you got high blood pressure.
MOONY: Naw, I got a wild hair. This place’s give me the jitters. You know it’s too damn close in here. Can’t take more’n six steps in any direction without coming smack up against another wall. [Half grinning.] I’d like to pick up my axe and swing into this wall— Bet I could smash clean through it in a couple of licks!
JANE: Moony! Why didn’t I marry an ape an’ go live in the zoo?
MOONY: I don’t know. [Jane pours the steaming milk into a blue cup.]
JANE: Set down an’ drink that. Know what time it is? Four o’clock in the morning!
MOONY: Four o’clock, huh? [He continues to move restlessly about.] Yeah. Soon ole fact’ry whistle be blowin’. Come on, you sonovaguns! Git to work!—Old Dutchman be standin’ there with his hands on his little pot-belly, watchin’ ’em punch in their cards. “Hi, dere, Moony,” he says. “Late agin, huh? Vot you tink dis iss maybe, an afdernoon tea?” That’s his joke. You know a Dutchman always has one joke that he keeps pluggin’ at. An’ that’s his. Ev’ry morning the same damn thing—
JANE: Yeah? Well—
MOONY: “Ha, ha, Moony,” he says, “you been out star-gazin’ las’ night! How many vas dere, Moony? How many stars vas dere out las’ night? Ha, ha, ha!” —[Strides over to the window—flings it up.]
JANE: Put that back down! I ain’t got a stitch a clothes on under this.
MOONY: I’ll say to him, “Sure, I seen ’em las’ night. But not like they was in Ontario, not by a long shot, Mister.” Grease-bubbles! That’s what they look most like from here. Why, up in the North Woods at night—
JANE [impatiently]: The North Woods! Put that thing down!
MOONY: Okay. [Obeys.]
JANE: Here. Drink yer milk. You act like a crazy man, honest to Jesus you do!
MOONY: Okay. Would that give the Dutchman a laugh!
JANE: What would? You better be careful.
MOONY: He’ll go all over the plant—tell the boys what Moony said this morning—said he’d seen the stars las’ night but not like they was in Ontario when he was choppin’ down the big timber.
JANE: Yes, you’ll give him a swell impression with talk of that kind. I’m dog-tired. [Pours herself some of the steaming milk.]
MOONY: Ever seen the St. Lawrence River?
JANE: Naw, I’ve seen wet diapers, that’s all, for so long that—!
MOONY: That’s what I’ll ask the Dutchman. I’ll ask him if he’s ever seen the St. Lawrence River.
JANE [glancing at him suspiciously]: What would you ask him that for?
MOONY: She’s big. See? She’s nearly as big and blue as the sky is, an’ the way she flows is straight north. You ever heard of that, Jane? A river that flowed straight north?
JANE [indifferently, as she sips her hot milk]: No.
MOONY: Only river I ever known of that flowed north!
JANE: Emma says a drop of paregoric would keep his bowels from runnin’ off like that. I think I’ll try it next time.
MOONY: We was talkin’ about it one day an’ Spook says it’s because the earth is curved down that way toward the Arctic Circle! [Grins.]
JANE: What?
MOONY: He said that’s why she flows north—
JANE: Who cares?
MOONY: Naw, the Dutchman don’t, neither. That’s why I tell him. Makes it funny, see? I’ll tell him she’s big, damn big, an’ they call her the Lake of a Thousand Islands!
JANE: He’ll say you’re crazy. He’ll tell you to go an’ jump in it!
MOONY: Sure he will. That’s what makes it funny. I’ll tell him she’s big an’ blue as the sky is, with firs an’ pines an’ tamaracks on both sides of her fillin’ the whole God-beautiful air with—the smell of— hot milk, huh? Wouldn’t that give the Dutchman a laugh!—Hot milk at four o’clock in the morning!—He’d go all over the plant an’ tell the boys that Moony must have his liddle hot milk at night when he goes bye-bye with the Sandman.
JANE: Louise Krause’s husband commenced sayin’ such things an’ they called out the ambulance squad. Right now he’s in a straitjacket in the psychopathic ward an’ when Louise went up to see him he didn’t remember who she was even! Demen-shuh pre-cox they called it! [Moony seizes cup and dashes milk to floor.] Moony!—What d’yuh think yuh’re doin’, yuh big lug? Sloppin’ good milk on the floor!
MOONY: Hot milk, huh?
JANE: Oh, dear Christ! You an’ your kid, what a mess you both are! No wonder they all make fun of you down at the plant. The way that you act there’s only one word for it—crazy! [Moony snorts indignantly.] Yes, crazy! Crazy is the only word for your actions!
MOONY: Crazy, huh? Sure them apes think I’m nuts. I’ll tell you why, it’s because I got some original ideas about some things.
JANE: Original, yeah, you’re so stinkin’ original it ain’t even funny! Believe me if I’d a-known—
MOONY: I look at things diff’runt— [Struggling for self-justification.] —that’s all. Other guys—you know how it is—they don’t care. They eat, they drink, they sleep with their women. What the hell do they care? The sun keeps rising and Saturday night they get paid!—Okay, okay, okay! Some day they kick off. What of it? They got kids to grow up an’ take their places. Work in the plant. Eat, drink, sleep with their women—an’ get paid Saturday night!—But me— [He laughs bitterly.] My God, Jane, I want something more than just that!
JANE: What more do you want, you poor fool? There ain’t nothing more than just that— Of course if you was rich and could afford a big house and a couple of limoozines—
MOONY [disgustedly]: Aw, you—you don’t even get what I’m aimin’ at, Jane! [He sinks wearily down on checkered linoleum and winds arms about his knees.] You never could get it. It’s something that ain’t contagious.
JANE: Well, I’m glad for that. I’d rather have smallpox.
MOONY: I found a guy once that did. An old duck up on the river. He got his back hurt, couldn’t work, was waiting to be shipped home— We got drunk one night an’ I spilled how I felt about things. He said, “Sure. You ain’t satisfied. Me neither. We want something more than what life ever gives to us, kid.”
JANE: It gives you what you can get.
MOONY: Oh, I dunno. I look at my hands sometimes, I look an’ I look at ’em. God, but they look so damn funny!
JANE: You look at your hands! Such crap!
MOONY: They’re so kind of empty an’ useless! You get what I mean? I feel like I oughta be doin’ something with these two han’s of mine besides what I’m doin’ now–runnin’ bolts through an everlastin’ chain!
JANE: Here’s something. [Flings him a dish rag.] Try holdin’ this for a change in them wonderful hands——Mop that milk up off the floor!
MOONY [idly twisting the cloth]: An’ then sometimes I think it ain’t my han’s that’re empty. It’s something else inside me that is.
JANE: Yeh, it’s probably yer brain. Will you get that milk swabbed up?
MOONY: It’s already swabbed! [Rises and stretches.] Moony’s a free agent. He don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. Live an’ die, says Moony, that’s all there is to it! [He tosses the wet rag back to the sink.]
JANE [straightening things in a lifeless, ineffectual way]: Believe me, if I’d a-known you was gonna turn out this way, I’d a-kept my old job. I’d a-said to Mr. O’Connor, “Sure thing! Go ahead an’ get me that chinchilla coat.”
MOONY: Sure you would. I know it, sweetheart.
JANE [beginning to sniffle]: What’s the good of a girl trying to keep herself straight? The way things turns out, a good proposition like Mr. O’Connor could offer would be the best thing. But no! I had such delusions about cha! You talked so swell! You made such a lovely impression that time we first met!
MOONY: Lots of water’s run un
der the bridge since then.
JANE: Yeah.
MOONY: When was that, Jane? How long ago was it?
JANE: Ten months; an’ it seems ten years!
MOONY: Ten months. And how old’s the kid? One month? Exactly one month?
JANE [furiously]: You’ve got a nerve to say that! As if it was me that insisted, that couldn’t wait even until we’d——
MOONY: Naw, it wasn’t your fault. It was nature got hold of us both that night, Jane. Yuh remember? The Paradise dance-hall down on the waterfront, huh? My first night in town after six months up in the woods. You had on a red silk dress. Yuh remember? Cut down sorta low in front. Hah, you was real pretty then—your hair frizzed up in the back in a thousan’ or so little curls that I could just barely poke my littlest finger through!
JANE [falling under a nostalgic spell]: Yeah. [Her face softens.] I useter have it done ev’ry Satiddy night. Mamie said she never seen hair that could take such a curl!
MOONY [with sly cruelty]: Yeh, that’s how it was—them curls—an’ the red silk dress—it was nature got hold us both that night, huh, Jane?
JANE [suspecting an innuendo]: What d’yuh mean by that?
MOONY: The way you pressed up against me when we was dancing—that was nature, wasn’t it, Jane? And when they played “Roses of Picardy” an’ the lights was turned out—we was dancin’ real slow—we was almost standin’ still—your breath was so warm on my neck, so warm—you had on a kind of perfume——
JANE: Perfume? Oh, yes. Narcissus perfume!—Mr. O’Connor give it to me for my birthday.
MOONY: Yeah, narcissus, that’s it—narcissus! An’ what was it, Jane, you whispered in my ear?
JANE [indignantly]: Me whispered? It was you that whispered, not me!
MOONY: Was it? Maybe it was. You didn’t have to say nothin’, the way you danced was enough!—Anyhow, I got hooked.
JANE [furiously]: Hooked! Hooked?! You dare to say such a thing?!
MOONY: Yes, I was hooked all right. Narcissus perfume, little curls, an’ a low-cut dress. Makin’ me think that holdin’ you in my arms an’ waltzin’ aroun’ a two-bit arch-acher was better’n holdin’ an axe in my two han’s up in the North Woods an’ choppin’ down big trees!
JANE [choking]: You—you—! [Covers her face.]
MOONY [a little less harshly]: Aw, well, I don’t mean that I’m—sorry about it—exactly. . .
JANE [brokenly]: How didja mean it, I’d liketa know then?
MOONY [pacing about the kitchen]: Oh, I dunno, I dunno! [Suddenly stops and catches Jane in his arms.] People say things, things happen! What does it mean? I dunno. Seems to me like a crazy man, deaf, dumb, and blind, could have put together a better kind of a world than this is! [He kisses Jane’s bare shoulder where the kimono has slipped down a little.] Let’s get out of it, honey!
JANE [sniffling]: Out of it? What d’yuh mean?
MOONY [violently]: Chuck it all; the whole damn thing—that’s what!
JANE: You mean— [She backs away from him, frightened.] Kill ourselves?
MOONY [laughing impatiently]: Well, no—no! I don’t wanta die! I wanta live!—What I mean is, get out of this place, this lousy town—Smoke, whistles, plants, factories, buildings, buildings, buildings!—You get caught in ’em, you never can find your way out!—So break away quick while you can!—Get out where it’s clean an’ there’s space to swing an axe in! An’ some time to swing it! Oh, God, Jane, don’t you see—see—see?
JANE: Yes. You mean hop a freight train! [Laughs mockingly.]
MOONY: Sure that’s it if you want to! Tell the Dutchman goodbye—tell him to kiss my Aunt Fanny!
JANE [hysterically]: Me with the baby an’ my infection of the breast—you with your axe! We’ll spend Christmas in a boxcar, won’t we, Moony?
MOONY: You bet!—Me with my axe, we’ll chop a way through this world!
JANE [LAUGHING]: What a joke—what a lovely scream that is!
MOONY: A joke, huh? Who said a joke?
JANE: Moony, Moony, my great big wonderful man! He’ll cut a way— [Chokes with laughter.] —through this world!
MOONY [getting sore]: Make fun of me, huh?
JANE: Moony they call him! Down at the plant it’s Moony this, Moony that! All of them making fun of my man, laughing at him right to his face, and he’s so damn dumb he don’t know it! They got your number, they have! The Dutchman’s got your number. You’re just a star-gazer! You oughta put up your tent an’ tell fortunes! Oh, you damn fool! If it wasn’t so funny I could cry, I could cry! You with your axe! We’ll spend Christmas in a boxcar! You’ll chop a way through the world! Ha, ha! You with your axe? What a scream!—Couldn’t even chop down a kid’s Christmas tree—I hadda buy one at the dime store! And that horse— [She gets breathless and hoarse from laughter.] That’s the best one! Brings home a five-dollar hobby-horse when we ain’t even got money enough to pay the hospital bill!
MOONY: I lied to you, Jane. I paid ten-fifty for that little horse.
JANE [aghast]: Ten-fifty? You—you— No, it’s not possible—even you couldn’t—
MOONY: It was worth more than that!
JANE: Worth more? More?! Worth—! [She is breathless.]
MOONY: Sure it was!
JANE: Buys a ten-fifty hobby-horse for a month-old baby— They lock people up for doing less than that!
MOONY: Aw, he’ll grow up to it, Jane. [He is a little abashed.] I had one o’ these things when I was a kid.
JANE: You musta got thrown off it an’ landed on your head!
MOONY: Naw, Dad got drunk one Saturday night, an’ bought me one at a junk-shop. Mother, she felt like you did, when he come home with it. But me, I was nuts about it. Him an’ me, both, we got on the horse—him in back, me in front—an’ sang “Ride a Cock-horse to Danbury Cross.”
JANE: Oh, my God! Now I know where you got it. He was a lunatic, too!
MOONY: Naw, he was smart. He run out on us.
JANE: Run out on your mother, he did? Well, it’s not surprising!
MOONY: I never heard of him since.
JANE: Well—he probably got what was coming to him.
MOONY [with quick rage]: Better than what I got!
JANE: What you got?
MOONY: A skinny yellow cat—that’s what I got!
JANE [gasping]: Oh——! God oughta strike you down dead for saying a thing like that!
MOONY: Yeah? I say it again—a yellow cat—a skinny yellow cat!
[Jane strikes him across face. Moony becomes like a mad animal. Roars and lunges forward—clutches Jane by throat. They grapple fiercely for several moments. Then Jane collapses in his arms.]
JANE [weakly]: Lemme go—please—for God’s sake!
MOONY [disgustedly]: Ahhh—yer too soft! [He flings her away from him. She falls against interior door, and hangs onto knob and edge of sink for support. Moony hitches his belt undecidedly. He can’t look at Jane’s dazed face. He is ashamed, but still defiant.] I’m leaving you now—get that? I’m checking out. You can tell the Dutchman to give you my pay—owes me three days— Time an’ a ha’f for Saturday— [Gives his belt final hitch, and moves over to peg where his lumberman’s jacket is hanging. He gives Jane a swift furtive glance as he puts on the jacket.] H’mmm! [He stoops down to pick up his axe. Feels the blade with a gingerly pride. Takes awkward practice swing. Eyes glow triumphantly to life. He looks again at Jane like an escaped animal at a cage. She does not move. She stares at him with hurt animal eyes. Moony spits on his fingers, runs them along the axe blade again. Hoarsely.] Pretty sharp, still. Good ole axe—h’mmm! [He starts toward the outer door.] Maybe I’ll—see you sometime—Jane. [Fumbles with latch.] So long. [He jerks door open. Stands on threshold.] H’mmm. Feel that wind. Good an’ clear tonight. A touch a frost in the air. An’ them stars. Millions of ’ em, huh? Quantity production, everything on a big scale—that’s God! Millions of stars—millions of people. Only He knew what to do with the stars. Stuck ’ em up there in the sky to look p
retty. But people—down here in the mud. Ugh, too many of ’em, God! They must have run away with you, I guess. Crawling over each other, snatching and tearing, living an’ dying till the earth’s just a big soup of dead bodies!—How did that happen? Gosh, it’s sure funny!—Oh, well, what’s the use? A man’s gotta live his own life. Cut his own ways through the woods somehow—
[The cold air sweeping into the room brings Jane out of her stupefaction. She slides to the floor and crawls toward Moony like a half-crushed animal.]
JANE: Moony!— [Hoarsely.] —You wouldn’t walk out on me, honey? Me with the baby and my infection of the breast, and no money or nothing? [Moony turns toward her a tortured face. Snatches at his pockets and flings a few coins on the floor.]
MOONY: Four bits! Tobacco money! Now you got the whole works—so good-bye!
JANE: Wait! [She clutches his arm and her fury makes her inescapable.] There’s something you got to take with you! Your property, Moony—you might as well take it along!
MOONY: I got all I want.
JANE: No, you ain’t. There’s something else that goes with you. You just wait here for a second, I’ll wrap it up for you— [Crosses quickly to door upstage.]
MOONY: What the hell are you—! [He hesitates at the door. Jane quickly reappears with the baby in her arms.]
JANE: Here! Here’s your kid, Moony! Take him with you. Sure. —Go along, now; the two of you! [Shoves baby into Moony’s unwilling arms.] Me, I can’t be bothered with no brats. I got to go back to work. O’Connor will give me my old job back. Sure he will. You two can go an’ hop a freight an’ spend Christmas in a boxcar. Maybe you’ll find your old man— You’ll have a swell time singing “Ride a Cock-horse” together!
[She laughs wildly and runs out of the room. Moony gingerly holds the baby. Looks helplessly down at its face. Frowns. Swears under his breath. Finally slams the door shut.]
MOONY: Another one of her lousy tricks! [Baby starts crying.] SHUT UP! [Then more softly.] Moony’s kid don’t cry! [He smiles slightly and rocks the baby in his arms.] Naw, Moony’s kid don’t cry. Grows up an’ swings a big axe like his Daddy. Cuts his own way through the woods.