But this is Red Hook, not Sicily. This is the slum that faces the bay on the seaward side of Brooklyn Bridge. This is the gullet of New York swallowing the tonnage of the world. And now we are quite civilized, quite American. Now we settle for half, and I like it better. I no longer keep a pistol in my filing cabinet.
And my practice is entirely unromantic.
My wife has warned me, so have my friends; they tell me the people in this neighborhood lack elegance, glamour. After all, who have I dealt with in my life? Longshoremen and their wives, and fathers and grand-fathers, compensation cases, evictions, family squabbles —the petty troubles of the poor—and yet ... every few years there is still a case, and as the parties tell me what the trouble is, the flat air in my office suddenly washes in with the green scent of the sea, the dust in this air is blown away and the thought comes that in some Caesar’s year, in Calabria perhaps or on the cliff at Syracuse, another lawyer, quite differently dressed, heard the same complaint and set there as powerless as I, and watched it run its bloody course.
Eddie has appeared and has been pitching coins with the men and is highlighted among them. He is forty—a husky, slightly overweight longshoreman.
This one’s name was Eddie Carbone, a longshoreman working the docks from Brooklyn Bridge to the breakwater where the open sea begins.
Alfieri walks into darkness.
EDDIE, moving up steps into doorway: Well, I’ll see ya, fellas.
Catherine enters from kitchen, crosses down to window, looks out.
LOUIS: You workin’ tomorrow?
EDDIE: Yeah, there’s another day yet on that ship. See ya, Louis.
Eddie goes into the house, as light rises in the apartment.
Catherine is waving to Louis from the window and turns to him.
CATHERINE: Hi, Eddie!
Eddie is pleased and therefore shy about it; he hangs up his cap and jacket.
EDDIE: Where you goin’ all dressed up?
CATHERINE, running her hands over her skirt: I just got it. You like it?
EDDIE: Yeah, it’s nice. And what happened to your hair?
CATHERINE: You like it? I fixed it different. Calling to kitchen: He’s here, B.!
EDDIE: Beautiful. Turn around, lemme see in the back. She turns for him. Oh, if your mother was alive to see you now! She wouldn’t believe it.
CATHERINE: You like it, huh?
EDDIE : You look like one of them girls that went to college. Where you goin’?
CATHERINE, taking his arm: Wait’ll B. comes in, I’ll tell you something. Here, sit down. She is walking him to the armchair. Calling offstage: Hurry up, will you,
B.?
EDDIE, sitting: What’s goin’ on?
CATHERINE: I’ll get you a beer, all right?
EDDIE: Well, tell me what happened. Come over here, talk to me.
CATHERINE: I want to wait till B. comes in. She sits on her heels beside him. Guess how much we paid for the skirt.
EDDIE: I think it’s too short, ain’t it?
CATHERINE, standing: No! not when I stand up.
EDDIE: Yeah, but you gotta sit down sometimes.
CATHERINE: Eddie, it’s the style now. She walks to show him. I mean, if you see me walkin’ down the street—
EDDIE: Listen, you been givin’ me the willies the way you walk down the street, I mean it.
CATHERINE: Why?
EDDIE: Catherine, I don’t want to be a pest, but I’m tellin’ you you’re walkin’ wavy.
CATHERINE: I’m walkin’ wavy?
EDDIE: Now don’t aggravate me, Katie, you are walkin’ wavy! I don’t like the looks they’re givin’ you in the candy store. And with them new high heels on the sidewalk—clack, clack, clack. The heads are turnin’ like windmills.
CATHERINE: But those guys look at all the girls, you know that.
EDDIE: You ain’t “all the girls.”
CATHERINE, almost in tears because he disapproves: What do you want me to do? You want me to—
EDDIE : Now don’t get mad, kid.
CATHERINE: Well, I don’t know what you want from me.
EDDIE: Katie, I promised your mother on her death-bed. I’m responsible for you. You’re a baby, you don’t understand these things. I mean like when you stand here by the window, wavin’ outside.
CATHERINE: I was wavin’ to Louis!
EDDIE: Listen, I could tell you things about Louis which you wouldn’t wave to him no more.
CATHERINE, trying to joke him out of his warning: Eddie, I wish there was one guy you couldn’t tell me things about!
EDDIE: Catherine, do me a favor, will you? You’re gettin’ to be a big girl now, you gotta keep yourself more, you can’t be so friendly, kid. Calls: Hey, B., what’re you doin’ in there? To Catherine: Get her in here, will you? I got news for her.
CATHERINE, starting out: What?
EDDIE: Her cousins landed.
CATHERINE, clapping her hands together: No! She turns instantly and starts for the kitchen. B.! Your cousins!
Beatrice enters, wiping her hands with a towel.
BEATRICE, in the face of Catherine’s shout: What?
CATHERINE: Your cousins got in!
BEATRICE, astounded, turns to Eddie: What are you talkin’ about? Where?
EDDIE: I was just knockin’ off work before and Tony Bereli come over to me; he says the ship is in the North River.
BEATRICE—her hands are clasped at her breast; she seems half in fear, half in unutterable joy: They’re all right?
EDDIE: He didn’t see them yet, they’re still on board. But as soon as they get off he’ll meet them. He figures about ten o’clock they’ll be here.
BEATRICE sits, almost weak from tension: And they’ll let them off the ship all right? That’s fixed, heh?
EDDIE: Sure, they give them regular seamen papers and they walk off with the crew. Don’t worry about it, B., there’s nothin’ to it. Couple of hours they’ll be here.
BEATRICE: What happened? They wasn’t supposed to be till next Thursday.
EDDIE: I don’t know; they put them on any ship they can get them out on. Maybe the other ship they was supposed to take there was some danger—What you cryin’ about?
BEATRICE, astounded and afraid: I’m—I just—I can’t believe it! I didn’t even buy a new tablecloth; I was gonna wash the walls—
EDDIE: Listen, they’ll think it’s a millionaire’s house compared to the way they live. Don’t worry about the walls. They’ll be thankful. To Catherine: Whyn’t you run down buy a tablecloth. Go ahead, here. He is reaching into his pocket.
CATHERINE: There’s no stores open now.
EDDIE, to Beatrice: You was gonna put a new cover on the chair.
BEATRICE: I know—well, I thought it was gonna be next week! I was gonna clean the walls, I was gonna wax the floors. She stands disturbed.
CATHERINE, pointing upward: Maybe Mrs. Dondero upstairs—
BEATRICE, of the tablecloth: No, hers is worse than this one. Suddenly: My God, I don’t even have nothin’ to eat for them! She starts for the kitchen.
EDDIE, reaching out and grabbing her arm: Hey, hey! Take it easy.
BEATRICE: No, I’m just nervous, that’s all. To Cath erine: I’ll make the fish.
EDDIE: You’re savin’ their lives, what’re you worryin’ about the tablecloth? They probably didn’t see a tablecloth in their whole life where they come from.
BEATRICE, looking into his eyes: I’m just worried about you, that’s all I’m worried.
EDDIE: Listen, as long as they know where they’re gonna sleep.
BEATRICE: I told them in the letters. They’re sleepin’ on the floor.
EDDIE: Beatrice, all I’m worried about is you got such a heart that I’ll end up on the floor with you, and they’ll be in our bed.
BEATRICE: All right, stop it.
EDDIE: Because as soon as you see a tired relative, I end up on the floor.
BEATRICE: When did you end up on the floor?
&nbs
p; EDDIE: When your father’s house burned down I didn’t end up on the floor?
BEATRICE: Well, their house burned down!
EDDIE: Yeah, but it didn’t keep burnin’ for two weeks!
BEATRICE: All right, look, I’ll tell them to go someplace else. She starts into the kitchen.
EDDIE: Now wait a minute. Beatrice! She halts. He goes to her. I just don’t want you bein’ pushed around, that’s all. You got too big a heart. He touches her hand. What’re you so touchy?
BEATRICE: I’m just afraid if it don’t turn out good you’ll be mad at me.
EDDIE: Listen, if everybody keeps his mouth shut, nothin’ can happen. They’ll pay for their board.
BEATRICE: Oh, I told them.
EDDIE: Then what the hell. Pause. He moves. It’s an honor, B. I mean it. I was just thinkin’ before, comin’ home, suppose my father didn’t come to this country, and I was starvin’ like them over there ... and I had people in America could keep me a couple of months? The man would be honored to lend me a place to sleep.
BEATRICE—there are tears in her eyes. She turns to Catherine: You see what he is? She turns and grabs Eddie’s face in her hands. Mmm! You’re an angel! God’ll bless you. He is gratefully smiling. You’ll see, you’ll get a blessing for this!
EDDIE, laughing: I’ll settle for my own bed.
BEATRICE: Go, Baby, set the table.
CATHERINE : We didn’t tell him about me yet.
BEATRICE: Let him eat first, then we’ll tell him. Bring everything in. She hurries Catherine out.
EDDIE, sitting at the table: What’s all that about? Where’s she goin’?
BEATRICE: Noplace. It’s very good news, Eddie. I want you to be happy.
EDDIE: What’s goin’ on?
Catherine enters with plates, forks.
BEATRICE: She’s got a job.
Pause. Eddie looks at Catherine, then back to Beatrice.
EDDIE: What job? She’s gonna finish school.
CATHERINE: Eddie, you won’t believe it—
EDDIE: No—no, you gonna finish school. What kinda job, what do you mean? All of a sudden you—
CATHERINE: Listen a minute, it’s wonderful.
EDDIE: It’s not wonderful. You’ll never get nowheres unless you finish school. You can’t take no job. Why didn’t you ask me before you take a job?
BEATRICE: She’s askin’ you now, she didn’t take nothin’ yet.
CATHERINE: Listen a minute! I came to school this morning and the principal called me out of the class, see? To go to his office.
EDDIE: Yeah?
CATHERINE: So I went in and he says to me he’s got my records, y’know? And there’s a company wants a girl right away. It ain’t exactly a secretary, it’s a stenographer first, but pretty soon you get to be secretary. And he says to me that I’m the best student in the whole class—
BEATRICE: You hear that?
EDDIE: Well why not? Sure she’s the best.
CATHERINE: I’m the best student, he says, and if I want, I should take the job and the end of the year he’ll let me take the examination and he’ll give me the certificate. So I’ll save practically a year!
EDDIE, strangely nervous: Where’s the job? What company?
CATHERINE: It’s a big plumbing company over Nostrand Avenue.
EDDIE: Nostrand Avenue and where?
CATHERINE: It’s someplace by the Navy Yard.
BEATRICE: Fifty dollars a week, Eddie.
EDDIE, to Catherine, surprised: Fifty?
CATHERINE: I swear.
Pause.
EDDIE: What about all the stuff you wouldn’t learn this year, though?
CATHERINE: There’s nothin’ more to learn, Eddie, I just gotta practice from now on. I know all the symbols and I know the keyboard. I’ll just get faster, that’s all. And when I’m workin’ I’ll keep gettin’ better and better, you see?
BEATRICE: Work is the best practice anyway.
EDDIE: That ain’t what I wanted, though.
CATHERINE: Why! It’s a great big company—
EDDIE: I don’t like that neighborhood over there.
CATHERINE: It’s a block and half from the subway, he says.
EDDIE: Near the Navy Yard plenty can happen in a block and a half. And a plumbin’ company! That’s one step over the water front. They’re practically longshoremen.
BEATRICE : Yeah, but she’ll be in the office, Eddie.
EDDIE: I know she’ll be in the office, but that ain’t what I had in mind.
BEATRICE: Listen, she’s gotta go to work sometime.
EDDIE: Listen, B., she’ll be with a lotta plumbers? And sailors up and down the street? So what did she go to school for?
CATHERINE: But it’s fifty a week, Eddie.
EDDIE: Look, did I ask you for money? I supported you this long I support you a little more. Please, do me a favor, will ya? I want you to be with different kind of people. I want you to be in a nice office. Maybe a lawyer’s office someplace in New York in one of them nice buildings. I mean if you’re gonna get outa here then get out; don’t go practically in the same kind of neighborhood.
Pause. Catherine lowers her eyes.
BEATRICE: Go, Baby, bring in the supper. Catherine goes out. Think about it a little bit, Eddie. Please. She’s crazy to start work. It’s not a little shop, it’s a big company. Some day she could be a secretary. They picked her out of the whole class. He is silent, staring down at the tablecloth, fingering the pattern. What are you worried about? She could take care of herself. She’ll get out of the subway and be in the office in two minutes.
EDDIE, somehow sickened: I know that neighborhood, B., I don’t like it.
BEATRICE: Listen, if nothin’ happened to her in this neighborhood it ain’t gonna happen noplace else. She turns his face to her. Look, you gotta get used to it, she’s no baby no more. Tell her to take it. He turns his head away. You hear me? She is angering. I don’t understand you; she’s seventeen years old, you gonna keep her in the house all her life?
EDDIE, insulted: What kinda remark is that?
BEATRICE, with sympathy but insistent force: Well, I don’t understand when it ends. First it was gonna be when she graduated high school, so she graduated high school. Then it was gonna be when she learned stenographer, so she learned stenographer. So what’re we gonna wait for now? I mean it, Eddie, sometimes I don’t understand you; they picked her out of the whole class, it’s an honor for her.
Catherine enters with food, which she silently sets on the table. After a moment of watching her face, Eddie breaks into a smile, but it almost seems that tears will form in his eyes.
EDDIE: With your hair that way you look like a madonna, you know that? You’re the madonna type. She doesn’t look at him, but continues ladling out food onto the plates. You wanna go to work, heh, Madonna?
CATHERINE, softly: Yeah.
EDDIE, with a sense of her childhood, her babyhood, and the years: All right, go to work. She looks at him, then rushes and hugs him. Hey, hey! Take it easy! He holds her face away from him to look at her. What’re you cryin’ about? He is affected by her, but smiles his emotion away.
CATHERINE, sitting at her place: I just—Bursting out: I’m gonna buy all new dishes with my first pay! They laugh warmly. I mean it. I’ll fix up the whole house! I’ll buy a rug!
EDDIE: And then you’ll move away.
CATHERINE: No, Eddie!
EDDIE, grinning: Why not? That’s life. And you’ll come visit on Sundays, then once a month, then Christmas and New Year’s, finally.
CATHERINE, grasping his arm to reassure him and to erase the accusation: No, please!
EDDIE, smiling but hurt: I only ask you one thing—don’t trust nobody. You got a good aunt but she’s got too big a heart, you learned bad from her. Believe me.
BEATRICE: Be the way you are, Katie, don’t listen to him.
EDDIE, to Beatrice—strangely and quickly resentful: You lived in a house all your life, what do you know about it
? You never worked in your life.
BEATRICE: She likes people. What’s wrong with that?
EDDIE: Because most people ain’t people. She’s goin’ to work; plumbers; they’ll chew her to pieces if she don’t watch out. To Catherine: Believe me, Katie, the less you trust, the less you be sorry.
Eddie crosses himself and the women do the same, and they eat.
CATHERINE: First thing I’ll buy is a rug, heh, B.?
BEATRICE: I don’t mind. To Eddie: I smelled coffee all day today. You unloadin’ coffee today?
EDDIE : Yeah, a Brazil ship.
CATHERINE: I smelled it too. It smelled all over the neighborhood.
EDDIE: That’s one time, boy, to be a longshoreman is a pleasure. I could work coffee ships twenty hours a day. You go down in the hold, y’know? It’s like flowers, that smell. We’ll bust a bag tomorrow, I’ll bring you some.
BEATRICE: Just be sure there’s no spiders in it, will ya? I mean it. She directs this to Catherine, rolling her eyes upward. I still remember that spider coming out of that bag he brung home. I nearly died.
EDDIE: You call that a spider? You oughta see what comes outa the bananas sometimes.
BEATRICE: Don’t talk about it!
EDDIE: I seen spiders could stop a Buick.
BEATRICE, clapping her hands over her ears: All right, shut up!
EDDIE, laughing and taking a watch out of his pocket: Well, who started with spiders?
BEATRICE: All right, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Just don’t bring none home again. What time is it?
EDDIE: Quarter nine. Puts watch back in his pocket.
They continue eating in silence.
CATHERINE: He’s bringin’ them ten o’clock, Tony?
EDDIE: Around, yeah. He eats.
CATHERINE: Eddie, suppose somebody asks if they’re livin’ here. He looks at her as though already she had divulged something publicly. Defensively: I mean if they ask.
EDDIE: Now look, Baby, I can see we’re gettin’ mixed up again here.
CATHERINE: No, I just mean ... people’ll see them goin’ in and out.
EDDIE: I don’t care who sees them goin’ in and out as long as you don’t see them goin’ in and out. And this goes for you too, B. You don’t see nothin’ and you don’t know nothin’.