○ ○? ○
“Hello?” No answer. Strange. She hangs up and, wrapped only in a towel, stares out the window at the cold face staring in — she screams!
○ ○? ○
She screams, scaring the hell out of him. He leaps out of the tub, glances up at the window she’s gaping at just in time to see two faces duck away, then slips on the bathroom tiles, and crashes to his ass, whacking his head on the sink on the way down. She stares down at him, trembling, a towel over her narrow shoulders. “Mr. Tucker! Mr. Tucker, are you all right…?” Who’s Sorry Now? Yessir, who’s back is breaking with each… He stares up at the little tufted locus of all his woes, and passes out, dreaming of Jeannie…
○ ○? ○
The phone rings. “Dolly! It’s for you!” “Hello?” “Hello, Mrs. Tucker?” “Yes, speaking.” “Mrs. Tucker, this is the police calling…”
○ ○? ○
It’s cramped and awkward and slippery, but he’s pretty sure he got it in her, once anyway. When he gets the suds out of his eyes, he sees her staring up at them. Through the water. “Hey, Mark! Let her up!”
○ ○? ○
Down in the suds. Feeling sleepy. The phone rings, startling her. Wrapped in a towel, she goes to answer. “No, he’s not here, Mrs. Tucker.” Strange. Married people act pretty funny sometimes. The baby is awake and screaming. Dirty, a real mess. Oh boy, there’s a lot of things she’d rather be doing than babysitting in this mad house. She decides to wash the baby off in her own bathwater. She removes her towel, unplugs the tub, lowers the water level so the baby can sit Glancing back over her shoulder, she sees Jimmy staring at her. “Go back to bed, Jimmy.” “I have to go to the bathroom.” “Good grief, Jimmy! It looks like you already have!” The phone rings. She doesn’t bother with the towel — what can Jimmy see he hasn’t already seen? — and goes to answer. “No, Jack, and that’s final” Sirens, on the TV, as the police move in. But wasn’t that the channel with the love story? Ambulance maybe. Get this over with so she can at least catch the news. “Get those wet pajamas off, Jimmy, and I’ll find clean ones. Maybe you better get in the tub, too.” “I think something’s wrong with the baby,” he says. “It’s down in the water and it’s not swimming or anything.”
○ ○? ○
She’s staring up at them from the rug. They slap her. Nothing happens. “You just tilted her, man!” Mark says softly. “We gotta get outa here!” Two little kids are standing wide-eyed in the doorway. Mark looks hard at Jack. “No, Mark, they’re just little kids…!” “We gotta, man, or we’re dead.”
○ ○? ○
“Dolly! My God! Dolly, I can explain!” She glowers down at them, her ripped girdle around her ankles. “What the four of you are doing in the bathtub with my babysitter?” she says sourly. “I can hardly wait!”
○ ○ ○
Police sirens wail, lights flash. “I heard the scream!” somebody shouts. There were two boys!” “I saw a man!” “She was running with the baby!” “My God!” somebody screams, “they’re all dead!” Crowds come running. Spotlights probe the bushes.
○ ○ ○
“Harry, where the hell you been?” his wife whines, glaring blearily up at him from the carpet. “I can explain,” he says. “Hey, whatsamatter, Harry?” his host asks, smeared with butter for some goddamn reason. “You look like you just seen a ghost!” Where did he leave his drink? Everybody’s laughing, everybody except Dolly, whose cheeks are streaked with tears. “Hey, Harry, you won’t let them take me to a rest home, will you, Harry?”
○ ○ ○
10:00. The dishes done, children to bed, her books read, she watches the news on television. Sleepy. The man’s voice is gentle, soothing. She dozes — awakes with a start: a babysitter? Did the announcer say something about a babysitter?
○ ○ ○
“Just want to catch the weather,” the host says, switching on the TV. Most of the guests are leaving, but the Tuckers stay to watch the news. As it comes on, the announcer is saying something about a babysitter. The host switches channels. “They got a better weather man on four,” he explains. “Wait!” says Mrs. Tucker. “There was something about a babysitter…!” The host switches back. “Details have not yet been released by the police,” the announcer says. “Harry, maybe we’d better go…”
○ ○ ○
They stroll casually out of the drugstore, run into a buddy of theirs. “Hey! Did you hear about the babysitter?” the guy asks. Mark grunts, glances at Jack. “Got a smoke?” he asks the guy.
○ ○ ○
“I think I hear the baby screaming!” Mrs. Tucker cries, running across the lawn from the drive.
○ ○ ○
She wakes, startled, to find Mr. Tucker hovering over her. “I must have dozed off!” she exclaims. “Did you hear the news about the babysitter?” Mrs. Tucker asks. “Part of it,” she says, rising. “Too bad, wasn’t it?” Mr. Tucker is watching the report of the ball scores and golf tournaments. I’ll drive you home in just a minute, dear,” he says. “Why, how nice!” Mrs. Tucker exclaims from the kitchen. “The dishes are all done!”
○ ○ ○
“What can I say, Dolly?” the host says with a sigh, twisting the buttered strands of her ripped girdle between his fingers. “Your children are murdered, your husband gone, a corpse in your bath tub, and your house is wrecked. I’m sorry. But what can I say?” On the TV, the news is over, and they’re selling aspirin. “Hell, I don’t know,” she says. “Let’s see what’s on the late late movie.”
THE HAT ACT
In the middle of the stage: a plain table,
A man enters, dressed as a magician with black cape and black silk hat Doffs hat in wide sweep to audience, bows elegantly.
Applause.
He displays inside of hat. It is empty. He thumps it It is clearly empty. Places hat on table, brim up. Extends both hands over hat, tugs back sleeves exposing wrists, snaps fingers. Reaches in, extracts a rabbit.
Applause.
Pitches rabbit into wings. Snaps fingers over hat again, reaches in, extracts a dove.
Applause.
Pitches dove into wings. Snaps fingers over hat, reaches in, extracts another rabbit No applause. Stuffs rabbit hurriedly back in hat, snaps fingers, reaches in, extracts another hat, precisely like the one from which it came.,
Applause.
Places second hat alongside first one. Snaps fingers over new hat, withdraws a third hat, exactly like the first two.
Light applause.
Snaps fingers over third hat, withdraws a fourth hat, again identical. No applause. Does not snap fingers. Peers into fourth hat, extracts a fifth one. In fifth, he finds a sixth. Rabbit appears in third hat Magician extracts seventh hat from sixth. Third hat rabbit with draws a second rabbit from first hat. Magician withdraws eighth hat from seventh, ninth from eighth, as rabbits extract other rabbits from other hats. Rabbits and hats are everywhere Stage is one mad turmoil of hats and rabbits.
Laughter and applause.
Frantically, magician gathers up hats and stufEs diem into each other, bowing, smiling at audience, pitching rabbits three and four at a time into wings, smiling, bowing. It is a desperate struggle. At first, it is difficult to be sure he is stuffing hats and pitching rabbits faster than they are reappearing. Bows, stuffs, pitches, smiles, perspires.
Laughter mounts.
Slowly die confusion diminishes. Now there is one small pile of hats and rabbits. Now there are no rabbits. At last there are only two hats. Magician, perspiring from overexertion, gasping for breath, staggers to table with two hats.