August: Osage County (3 page)

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Authors: Tracy Letts

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JOHNNA: I have a year toward my nursing certificate at Tulsa Community College, but I had to drop out when Daddy died. And I saw my mom and grandma through bad times.
 
BEVERLY: Dr. Burke says you’ve been struggling for work.
 
JOHNNA: I’ve been cleaning houses and babysitting.
 
BEVERLY: He did tell you we wanted a live-in.
 
JOHNNA: Yes, sir.
 
BEVERLY: We keep unusual hours here. Try not to differentiate between night and day. I doubt you’ll be able to maintain any sort of a healthy routine.
 
JOHNNA: I need the work.
 
BEVERLY: The work itself . . . pretty mundane. I myself require very little personal attention. Thrive without it, in fact, sort of a human cactus. My
wife
has been diagnosed with a touch of cancer, so she’ll need to be driven to Tulsa for her final chemotherapy treatments. You’re welcome to use that American-made behemoth parked in the carport. You’re welcome to make use of anything, everything, all this garbage we’ve acquired, our life’s work. If you’re going to live here, I want you to live here. You understand?
 
JOHNNA: Yes, sir.
 
BEVERLY: Please call me Beverly. Do you have any questions?
 
JOHNNA: What kind of cancer?
 
BEVERLY: I didn’t say? My God, I nearly neglected the punch line:
mouth
cancer.
 
JOHNNA: What pills does she take?
 
BEVERLY: Valium. Vicodin. Darvon, Darvocet. Percodan, Percocet. Xanax for fun. OxyContin in a pinch. Some Black Mollies once, just to make sure I was still paying attention. And of course Dilaudid. I shouldn’t forget Dilaudid.
 
(Beverly studies her. Finishes his drink.)
 
 
 
My wife. Violet. Violet, my wife, doesn’t believe she needs treatment for her habit. She has been down that road once before, and came out of it clean as a whistle . . . then chose for herself this reality instead.
 
You were about to ask why she isn’t currently seeking treatment. Weren’t you?
 
JOHNNA: No, sir.
 
BEVERLY: Oh, good, that relieves me. Now hold on a second . . .
 
(Beverly wobbles to his feet unsteadily, as much from weariness as drink, explores his bookshelf.)
 
 
 
My last refuge, my books: simple pleasures, like finding wild onions by the side of a road, or requited love.
 
 
(He takes a book from his bookshelf and gives it to Johnna.)
 
JOHNNA: T. S. Eliot.
 
BEVERLY: Read it or not. It isn’t a job requirement. That’s just for your enjoyment. Feel free to read any of my books.
 
Here we go round the prickly pear
 
Prickly pear prickly pear
 
Here we go round the prickly pear . . .
 
 
ACT ONE
 
SCENE 1
 
Ivy, Mattie Fae and Charlie are in the living room. Mattie Fae drinks a glass of scotch. Charlie has the TV tuned to a baseball game, the sound low, and he keeps an eye on the score as he nurses a bottle of beer.
 
Elsewhere in the house: Violet talks on the telephone in the sitting room; Johnna cooks and cleans in the kitchen.
 
 
MATTIE FAE: Beverly’s done this before.
 
IVY: I know.
 
MATTIE FAE: You remember he used to just take off, no call, nothing. You remember, Charlie?
 
CHARLIE: They’ve always had trouble—
 
MATTIE FAE: One time, this one time, he just up and left without a word, I told Vi, I said, “You pack that son-of-a-bitch’s bags and have them waiting for him on the
front porch
.” And you know I always liked your father.
 
IVY: I know.
 
MATTIE FAE: No, I always liked your father, you know that. I introduced Vi and Bev, for God’s sake.
 
CHARLIE: You did not introduce them.
 
MATTIE FAE: The hell I didn’t.
 
CHARLIE: You had a date with him and stood him up and sent your sister instead.
 
MATTIE FAE:
That’s an introduction.
That’s what an introduction is.
 
CHARLIE: I just don’t think it’s accurate to say—
 
MATTIE FAE: He was too old for me and anyway, Violet? “Shrinking Violet?” She couldn’t meet a man on her own.
 
CHARLIE: No one ever called her “Shrinking Violet”—
 
MATTIE FAE: And Charlie and your father always got on real well. They used to go on fishing trips together.
 
IVY: I know.
 
MATTIE FAE: But when Beverly just took off like that, without saying anything, without a note even, my first obligation was to look after my sister, don’tcha know.
 
CHARLIE: You don’t have an obligation to do anything.
 
MATTIE FAE: I have an obligation to look after my sister.
 
CHARLIE: You’re not obliged to get involved in somebody else’s marriage.
 
MATTIE FAE: Not any marriage, but when they’re married to my big sister, I sure as hell do. Ivy has sisters, she knows what I mean. I told her, I said, “Vi, you pack that son-of-a-bitch’s bags and put them on the front porch. You take all those goddamn books he’s so fond of and you make a big pile in the front yard and you have yourself a bonfire. Take all his papers too, just everything and throw it in—”
 
CHARLIE: You don’t burn a man’s books.
 
MATTIE FAE: Will you stop? You keep contradicting—
 
CHARLIE: The man’s books didn’t do anything. His possessions aren’t responsible.
 
MATTIE FAE: Well, she didn’t do it, so it doesn’t make any—
 
CHARLIE: Of course she didn’t do it.
 
MATTIE FAE: Let me tell you something, Charlie Aiken: you ever get any ideas about just up and taking off, you better believe—
 
CHARLIE: I’m not going anywhere—
 
MATTIE FAE: I’m saying if you did, you better believe I’m gonna give you about three days to get your head straight and then it’s all going up in a blaze of glory.
 
CHARLIE: I’m not going anywhere!
 
MATTIE FAE: If you did!
 
CHARLIE: I’m not!
 
MATTIE FAE: Not that Charlie has any books lying around. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Charlie read a book in my life.
 
CHARLIE: Is that a criticism? Does that bother you?
 
MATTIE FAE: Well, I haven’t. What’s the last book you read?
 
CHARLIE: Goddamn it—
 
MATTIE FAE: Just tell me the last book you read.
 
CHARLIE: Beverly was a teacher; teachers read books. I’m in the upholstery business; people in the upholstery business—
 
MATTIE FAE: You can’t tell me the last book you read.
 
CHARLIE: This girl is concerned about her daddy’s whereabouts. She doesn’t need to sit here and listen to us—
 
MATTIE FAE: I think we’re all concerned about Beverly.
 
CHARLIE: Then what the hell are you needling me for?
 
MATTIE FAE: He came back though, you know, and they worked things out, and he’ll come back again, I know he will.
 
IVY: I think this time is different.
 
MATTIE FAE: I think so too.
 
CHARLIE: Why?
 
MATTIE FAE: Because back then—
 
CHARLIE: I’m not asking you.
(To Ivy)
Why do you think this time is different?
 
IVY: Because I think back then they were trying.
 
MATTIE FAE
(To Charlie)
: Which is what I was gonna say.
(To Ivy)
Beverly was a very complicated man.
 
IVY: I know.
 
CHARLIE: Stop saying “was.”
 
MATTIE FAE: Well, he was. He is, very complicated.
 
CHARLIE: But in a kind-y quiet way.
 
IVY: Kind of like Charles.
 
CHARLIE: Yes, like Little Charles. Exactly—
 
MATTIE FAE: Oh. He’s nothing like Little Charles.
 
CHARLIE: She just means in their sort of quiet complicated ways—
 
MATTIE FAE: Little Charles isn’t complicated.
 
CHARLIE: I think—
 
MATTIE FAE: No, Little Charles isn’t complicated, he’s just unemployed.
 
CHARLIE: He’s an observer.
 
MATTIE FAE: All he observes is the television.
 
CHARLIE: So you can’t even see Ivy’s point?
 
MATTIE FAE: No.
 
CHARLIE: That Little Charles and Beverly share some kind of . . . complication.
 
MATTIE FAE: Honey, you have to be smart to be complicated.
 
CHARLIE: That’s our boy. Are you saying our boy isn’t smart?
 
MATTIE FAE: Yes, that’s what I’m saying.
 
CHARLIE: What’s the matter with you?
(To Ivy)
Your cousin is very smart.
 
MATTIE FAE: I’m sweating. Are you sweating?
 
CHARLIE: Hell, yes, I’m sweating, it’s ninety degrees in here.
 
MATTIE FAE: Feel my back.
 
CHARLIE: I don’t want to feel your back.
 
MATTIE FAE: Feel it. Sweat is just dripping down my back.
 
CHARLIE: I believe you.
 
MATTIE FAE: Feel it.
 
CHARLIE: No.
 
MATTIE FAE: Come on, put your hand here—
 
CHARLIE: Goddamn it—
 
MATTIE FAE: Sweat’s just dripping—
 
CHARLIE: Ivy. Let me ask you something. When did this start? This business with the shades, taping the shades?
 
IVY: That’s been a couple of years now.
 
MATTIE FAE: My gosh, has it been that long since we’ve been here?
 
CHARLIE: Do you know its purpose?
 
MATTIE FAE: You can’t tell if it’s night or day.
 
IVY: I think that’s the purpose.
 
CHARLIE: Well, I don’t know, but I don’t think that’s healthy.

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