A Lovely Sunday for Creve Coeur (2 page)

BODEY:
Isn’t what, Dotty?

DOROTHEA:
A type that I can respond to. You know what I mean. In a romantic fashion, honey. And to
me—romance
is—essential
.

BODEY:
Oh—but—well
, there’s other things to consider
besides—romance
 . . .

DOROTHEA
[
swiveling her hips as she talks
]: Bodey, can you honestly feel that Buddy and I are exactly right for each other? Somehow I suspect that Buddy would do better looking about for a steady,
German-type
girl in South St.
Louis—a
girl to drink beer with and eat Wiener schnitzel and get fat along with him, not a
girl—well
, a girl already
romantically—pour
me a little more coffee?
—Thanks
.
—Why
do you keep forgetting
the understanding between me and Mr. Ellis? Is that fair to Buddy? To build up his hopes for an inevitable letdown?

BODEY:
This Mr. T. Ralph Ellis, well . . .

DOROTHEA:
Well,
what?

BODEY:
Nothing except . . .

DOROTHEA:
What?

BODEY:
He might not be as reliable as
Buddy—in
the long run.

DOROTHEA:
What is “the long run,” honey?

BODEY:
The long run
is—
life
.

DOROTHEA:
Oh, so that is the long run, the long run is life! With Buddy? Well, then give me the short run, I’m sorry, but I’ll take the short run, much less exhausting in the heat of the day and the night!

BODEY:
Dotty, I tell you, Dotty, in the long run or the short run I’d place my bet on Buddy, not on
a—fly-by-night
sort of proposition like this,
this—romantic
idea you got about a man that mostly you see wrote up
in—society
pages . . .

DOROTHEA:
That is your misconception!
— Of
something about which you are in total ignorance, because I rarely step out of the civics classroom at Blewett without seeing Ralph Ellis a few steps down the corridor, pretending to take a drink at the water cooler on my floor which is two floors up from his office!

BODEY:
Not really taking a drink but just pretending? Not a good sign,
Dotty—pretending
 . . .

DOROTHEA:
What I mean
is—we
have to arrange secret little encounters of this sort to avoid gossip at Blewett.

BODEY:
—Well—

DOROTHEA:
WHAT?

BODEY:
I never trusted pretending.

DOROTHEA:
Then why the paper flowers over the hearing aid, dear?

BODEY:
That’s—just—a little—sensitivity
, there . . .

DOROTHEA:
Look, you’ve got to live with it so take off the concealment, the paper tiger lily, and turn the hearing aid up or I will be obliged to finish my hip swivels out here to catch Ralph’s telephone call.

BODEY
[
as she is turning up the hearing aid, it makes a shrill sound
]: See? See?

DOROTHEA:
I think you mean hear,
hear! —Turn
it down just a bit, find the right level for it!

BODEY:
Yes, yes,
I—
[
She fumbles with the hearing aid, dislodging the paper flower
.]

DOROTHEA:
For heaven’s sake, let me adjust it for you! [
She rushes over to Bodey and fiddles with the hearing aid
.]
Now!—Not
shrieking.
—But
can you hear me? I said can you hear me! At this level!?

BODEY:
Yes. Where’s my tiger lily?

DOROTHEA:
Dropped on the fierce purple carpet. Here. [
She picks it up and hands it to Bodey
.] What’s wrong with you?

BODEY:
I’m—upset
. Over this
maybe—dangerous—trust
you’ve got in Ralph
Ellis’s—intentions
 . . .

DOROTHEA
[
dreamily, eyes going soft
]: I don’t like discussing an intimate thing like this
but—the
last time I went out in Ralph Ellis’s Reo, that new sedan he’s got called the Flying Cloud . . .

BODEY:
Cloud? Flying?

DOROTHEA
[
raising her voice to a shout
]: The Reo is advertised as “The Flying Cloud.”

BODEY:
Oh. Yes. He’d be attracted to that.

DOROTHEA:
It was pouring down rain and Art Hill was deserted, no other cars on it but Ralph and I in his Reo. The windows curtained with rain that glistened in the lamplight.

BODEY:
Dotty, I hope you’re not leading up to something that shouldn’t of happened in this Flying Cloud on Art Hill. It really scares me, Dotty . . .

DOROTHEA:
Frankly, I was a little frightened myself
because—we’ve
never had this kind of discussion before, it’s
rather—difficult
for me but you must understand. I’ve always drawn a strict line with a man till this occasion.

BODEY:
Dotty, do you
mean—?

DOROTHEA:
It was so magical to me, the windows curtained
with rain, the soft look in his eyes, the warmth of his breath that’s always scented with clove, his fingers touching so gently as
he—

BODEY:
Dotty, I don’t think I want to know any more about
this—experience
on Art Hill because,
because—I
got a suspicion, Dotty, that you didn’t hold the line with him.

DOROTHEA:
The line
just—didn’t
exist when he parked the car and turned and looked at me and I turned and looked at him. Our eyes, our
eyes—

BODEY:
Your eyes?

DOROTHEA:
Burned the line out of existence, like it had never existed!

BODEY:
—I’m
not gonna tell this to Buddy!

DOROTHEA:
You know, I wasn’t aware until then that the Reo was equipped with adjustable seats.

BODEY:
Seats
that—?

DOROTHEA:
Adjusted to pressure, yes, reclined beneath me when he pushed a lever.

BODEY
[
distracted from the phonebook which she had begun to leaf through
]:
—How
far did this seat recline beneath you, Dotty?

DOROTHEA:
Horizontally, nearly. So gradually though that I didn’t know till later, later. Later, not
then—the
earth was whirling beneath me and the sky was spinning above.

BODEY:
Oh-ho
, he got you drunk, did he, with a flask of liquor in that Flying Cloud
on—

DOROTHEA:
Drunk on a single Pink Lady?

BODEY:
Pink?

DOROTHEA:
Lady.
—The
mildest sort of cocktail! Made with sloe gin and grenadine.

BODEY:
The gin was slow, maybe, but that man is a fast one, seducing a girl with adjustable seats and a flask of liquor in that Flying Cloud
on—

DOROTHEA:
Not a flask, a cocktail, and not in the Reo but in a small private club called The Onyx, a club so exclusive he had to present an engraved card at the entrance.

BODEY:
Oh yes, I know such places!

DOROTHEA:
How would you know such places?

BODEY:
I seen one at the movies and so did you, at the West End Lyric, the last time you was all broke up from expectin’ a call from this Ellis which never came in, so we seen Roy D’Arcy take poor Janet Gaynor to one of
them—private
clubs
to—!

Blewett, Blewett, get me the high school named Blewett.

DOROTHEA:
Bodey, what are you doing at the phone which I begged you not to use till Ralph has called?

BODEY:
Reporting him to Blewett!

DOROTHEA:
Bodey, that takes the cake, reporting on the principal of Blewett to Blewett that’s closed on Sundays. What a
remarkable—

BODEY
[
darting about
]: Paper, pen!

DOROTHEA:
Now what?

BODEY:
A written report to the Board of Education of St. Louis. I tell you, that Board will be interested in all details of how that principal of the school system got you lying down drunk and defenseless in his Flying Cloud in a storm on Art Hill, every advantage taken with Valentino sheik tricks on a innocent teacher of civics just up from Memphis.

DOROTHEA:
YOU WILL
NOT—

BODEY:
DON’T TELL ME NOT!

DOROTHEA:
LIBEL THE REPUTATION OF A MAN THAT I LOVE, GAVE MYSELF TO NOT JUST FREELY BUT WITH ABANDON, WITH JOY!

BODEY
[
aloud as she writes
]: Board of Education of St. Louis, Missouri. I think you should know that your principal at Blewett used his position to take disgusting advantage of a young teacher employed there by him for that purpose. I know, I got the facts, including the date
and—

My letter, you tore up
my—!

DOROTHEA:
Bodey, if you had written and mailed that letter, do you know what you’d have obliged me to do? I would be morally obliged to go personally down to the Board of Education and tell them an
opposite
story which happens to be the
true
one: that I
desired
Ralph Ellis, possibly even more than he did me!

BODEY:
—Well
, God help you, Dotty.
—But
I give you my word I won’t repeat this to Buddy.

DOROTHEA:
How does it concern Buddy?

BODEY:
It concerns Buddy and me because Buddy’s got deep feelings and respect for you, Dotty. He would respect you too much to cross the proper line before you had stood up together in the First Lutheran Church on South Grand.

DOROTHEA:
Now
you
admit
it!

BODEY:
It’s you that’s makin’ admissions of a terrible kind that might shock Buddy out of his serious intentions.

DOROTHEA:
You are admitting
that—

—you’ve
been deliberately planning and plotting to marry me off to your twin brother so that my life would be just one long Creve Coeur picnic, interspersed with knockwurst,
sauerkraut—hot
potato salad dinners.
—Would
I be asked to prepare them? Even in summer? I know what you Germans regard as the limits, the boundaries of a woman’s
life—
Kirche, Küche, und Kinder
—while
being asphyxiated gradually by cheap cigars. I’m sorry but the life I design for myself is not along those lines or in those limits. My life must include romance. Without romance in my life, I could no more live than I could without breath. I’ve got to find a partner in life, or my life will have no meaning. But what I must have and finally do have is an affair of the heart, two hearts, a true consummated
romance—yes
consummated, I’m not ashamed! [
She gasps and sways
.]

BODEY:
Dotty, Dotty, set down and catch your breath!

DOROTHEA:
In this breathless efficiency
apartment?— I’ve
got to have space in my life.

BODEY:
—Did
I tell you that Buddy has made a down payment on a Buick?

DOROTHEA:
No, you didn’t and why should you, as it does not
concern—Oh
, my God, Blessed Savior!

BODEY:
Dotty, what Dotty? D’you want your, your whatamacallit tablets?

DOROTHEA:
Mebaral? No, I have not collapsed yet, but you’ve just about driven me to it.

BODEY:
Take a breather, take a seventh inning stretch while
I—

DOROTHEA:
Bodey, this room is GLARING; it’s not cheerful but GLARING!

BODEY:
Stretch out on the sofa and look up, the ceiling is white!

DOROTHEA:
I don’t know why I’m so out of breath today.

BODEY:
Don’t do no more exercises. You drink too much coffee an’ Cokes. That’s stimulants for a girl
high-strung
like you. With a nervous heart condition.

DOROTHEA:
It’s
functional—not
nervous.

BODEY:
Lie down a minute.

DOROTHEA:
I will rest a
little—but
not because you say so. [
Between gasps she sinks into a chair
.] You’re very
bossy—and
very inquisitive, too.

BODEY:
I’m older’n you, and I got your interests at heart.