August: Osage County (9 page)

(Barbara suddenly dries her eyes, shrugs Johnna’s grasp, stands.)

 

(Johnna exits to the kitchen, turns on the lights, starts a pot of coffee.)

 

(She turns to him.)

 

 

 

I’m very sorry. This is the hardest part of my job. And I’m . . . to do it for someone you know . . . I’m just . . . very sorry.

 

 

(She nods.)

 

(Barbara and Jean exit down the second-floor hallway. Bill pulls Sheriff Gilbeau into the study.)

 

 

 

Is there any way to determine if he—I mean, is this an accident, or suicide?—

 

(Lights shift to the second-floor landing as Barbara and Jean enter. Jean sits on the window seat as Barbara rakes a brush through her hair.)

 

(She throws the brush. She slumps on the window seat next to Jean.)

 

 

 

I used to go out with that boy. With that man.

 

(She fixes Jean with a look.)

 

(Bill enters.)

 

(Lights shift to the study, where Sheriff Gilbeau waits. Violet, wearing silk pajamas, shakily descends the stairs, crosses into the study.)

 

(Violet shuffles up to Sheriff Gilbeau.)

 

(She laughs at her own inability to speak. Sheriff Gilbeau takes a Pall Mall from his shirt pocket, hands it to her. She stands, sways, holding the cigarette in her mouth. He lights it.)

 

In the archa, archa-tex? I’m in the bottom. Izza bottom of them. Inna . . . ell.

 

 

 

(She shuffles to the stereo in the living room . . . )

 

 

His master’s voice.

 

 

( . . . and plays a song: “Lay Down, Sally,” by Clapton. Sheriff Gilbeau trails her into the living room.)

 

 

Mm, good beat. Right?

 

(She does a jerky little dance, puffing on her cigarette.)

 

(Barbara, Bill, Jean and Johnna enter from various points in the house. Violet sees them, continues her tight little dance.)

 

 

 

Idn’t it’s good beat? Inna good beats. Mmm, I been on the music . . . pell-man onna sheriff. C. J.’s boy. Right? Donna two inna school? Armen in tandel s’lossle, s’lost? Lost?! From the day, the days. Am Beerly . . . and Beverly lost?

 

 

(Violet abandons her dance, separates invisible threads in the air. The others stand frozen, staring at her.)

 

 

And then you’re here. And Barbara, and then you’re here, and Beverly, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here, and then you’re here . . .

 

 

(Blackout.)

 

All right . . . okay. “The Carriage held but just Ourselves,” dum-de-dum . . . mm, best I got . . . Emily Dickinson’s all I got . . . something something, “Horse’s Heads Were Toward Eternity . . .”

 

 

 

(She takes a pill.)

 

 

That’s for me . . . one for me . . .

 

 

(She picks up the hardback copy of
Meadowlark
, flips to the dedication.)

 

 

“Dedicated to my Violet.” Put that one in marble.

 

 

(She drops the book on the desk. She takes a pill.)

 

 

For the girls, God love ’em. That’s all I can dedicate to you, sorry to say. Other than them . . . not one thing. No thing. You think I’ll weep for you? Think I’ll play that part, like we played the others?

 

 

(She takes a pill.)

 

 

You made your choice. You made this happen.
You
answer for this . . . not me. Not me. This is not mine.

 

 

(Lights crossfade to the dining room. Barbara and Karen, wearing black dresses, fold napkins, munch food from a relish tray, etc.)