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Only Yesterday

Roles:

Dawn

sweet girl almost sixteen; sedulous, sweet, non-academic

Donna

bright, ravishing, cynical, just turned sixteen; James'girlfriend

Little Dawn

flaxen-haired, age seven

Little Donna

light brown hair, age eight

Albert

scholarly lad of seventeen; slight build

Jimmy

inherently brilliant, seventeen; brother to Dawn

Laura Kingsley

Albert's mother; meddlesome

Peter Kingsley

indifferent, satiric; Laura's husband, Albert's father

Penny

Dawn's close friend, seventeen, sensible

Mabel Franklin

down to earth; Dawn and James' mother

Bob Franklin

blue shirt, regular; Dawn and James'father

Bette

member of the leather jacket group; little rough, but far from stupid

Garfield

short, rugged leather jacket member; not very bright

Cooper

member of the leather jacket group, not very interesting

Hallguard

football type

Time & Place

1963 Ordinary Town

Prologue

[Stage in total darkness as curtain opens--traveler remains closed--

partially and red spotlight settles on edge proscenium. center. Donna

screams from behind curtain.]

Donna: No, Isaiah! [then moans, muffled by the curtain] No, no, go

way.[she steps softly into the light, head bowed, hands clasped

nervously; she is wearing a flannel but feminine nightgown; her

hair down, strands tossed forward over her shoulders; slowly lifts

face angled slightly to the side] No more of this, I beg of you.

[slowly sweeps face out over audience; she breathes heavily]

Why?...Oh, why do you go on? [lifts chin; presses heels of hands

to temples] How hard...how harsh and crushing are your relentless

words! I swear to you I do not deserve your thunder in my head.

How often I have assured you that I do not hate her. Oh, how much

I tried!--but the icy abhorrence cannot stick, for it defrosts

under her wretched warmth, and still you do not believe me. Have

I not avoided her? Do you see me harass her? [she begins to pace,

intermittently stopping, facing the audience, looking high above]

Ah, hold me accountable for my omissions, eh? Me, a mere babe

myself! Yet heap the heavy burden of guilt upon my fragile

shoulders....have you no mercy? And by the way why you? Why not

Mary or her son both of whom would be more understanding and pity

me, perhaps even understand? No, you they send with your fiery

tongue to lash out at me and scorch my soul. Oh, yes merciless...

you bang my head with your harangue and show me all of the

catastrophic trail of my wretched soul and then--oh, how clever!--

you present me with her soft smile and adoring face! [she raises

her arms and her hands seem to trace the image] Ah, yes, that

face --though surely no match for mine--has subtlety whose glow

pales the heavy beauty of my own. Yes, clever, you know too well

from experience how your fearful threats and brutal images, however

much they throw fear into the heart, still fall on deaf ears. Oh,

yes, far better to be plagued with the haunting spectre of a horrid

creature than to be cursed with the omnipresence of a saint! [she

looks all around, cowering, steps back and peers into the opening in

the curtain; she spins on her heels<barefeet>and strolls to the edge]

So cruel you are to accuse me of being smitten with pride.

Have I not done my penance?...Have I not humbled myself

sufficiently to satisfy your stern justice? Yet, proud I am of my

perceptions and clear thinking, yet you see me as muddling through

a maze. I tell you,[placing hand on hip and thrusting chin up] I

see no maze. [turns to exit, but is startled and faces pr.l. to

see two little girls enter; the darker haired is herself; Dawn

slightly younger with lighter hair, yet is holding Donna's hand

and urging her along]

Donna: But I don't want to, Dawn.

Dawn: We must, it was sinful.

Donna: It isn't, it cannot be.

Dawn: Why?

Donna: 'Cause I'm older.

Dawn: But wiser?

Donna: Oh, much more--the grades, you know.

Dawn: Yes, of course, the grades--how very nice. But this has nothing to

with grades.

Donna: Everything has to do with grades.

Dawn: Oh, Donna, you're wrong--maybe in your mind--not in your

soul.[tugs on her harder] Come, we must do this.

Donna: We?

Dawn: Alone, then?

Donna: Oh, no, no, not alone. I must have you with me.

Dawn: Here am I!

Donna: Oh, yes, I know. But wait. After all, was it so bad?

Dawn: Wicked, but I'm to blame.

Donna: Yes, so you are!

Dawn: I too must confess.

Donna: Really, you will? Oh, how good you are!...Then why do I have to?

Dawn: Oh, Donna, sometimes you are such a child when it comes to this.

But oh, how I worship you in the bright light of everything else!

How, then, dark in this?

Donna: [pouts] You make it dark. I swear I have done no wrong. I tell you

it's the science in me.

Dawn: Horrible, but in class they at least are dead.

Donna: Should I have killed them first?

Dawn: See?...How in the dark you are?

Donna: Well, yours was alive, too you know?.

Dawn: [buries face in hands, sobbing, then looks at her] Oh, how

beautifully alive! Yes, yes, I know I have sinned! How

painful...yes, the center eye did cry with every pull!

Donna: Good! Then you confess while I hide in the shadows of the last

pew.

Dawn: [reflects] Maybe, yes, you're right--I alone have sinned.

Donna: Don't tell the priest about me!

Dawn: [touching Donna's hair] You...

Donna: [recoils] You know how I hate you to touch my hair.

Dawn: Others, yes, never me!

Donna: Well, you're making me feel inferior.

Dawn: Once in awhile that's not so bad.

Donna: Oh, you...

Dawn: Besides, you know how Priests ask questions...

Donna: No! You mustn't! [little Dawn bravely exits through opening as both

Donnas look on; spotlight turns to blue and follows little Donna's exit whence

she entered as red remains on Donna while her eyes follow her childhood]

Donna: "Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes and shrewd in their

<older> own sight!" [exits through opening; lights out]

Scene 1

[Kitchen--before breakfast touches of appliances and cabinets of

pre- WWII vintage; heavy oak or maple table s.c.; Backdrop shows large

window through which can be seen some traditional homes under large barren

trees; Albert takes last minute peek at paper on top of books stacked on

table; then he paces d.s., clears throat]

Albert: My colleagues and proud members of the Currents club, I have been

asked by our sagacious advisor to address you on the increasing

importance of this significant activity in our school. As you

know, America is moving vigorously to new frontiers--a vast area of

ideas. As political pundits and counselors to student government,

we too must pioneer vigorously to keep our student council in step

with the the Kennedy administration and as activists we must show

them by example....

Mrs.K: [Enters from u.s., beaming a smile of satisfaction, stylish satin

robe, and reaches down under cabinet to retrieve a cooking pot]

My, you're up early! I suppose, you are impatient for your oatmeal. I

just know how irritable you are at school without it.

Albert: Oh, an absolute must, Mother; it is food for the brain cells, plugs

up the gaps.

Mrs.K: No fear of that, son--no holes in your brain.

Al: Mother, you must listen to the concluding remark of my speech to

the club. I fear it might be a bit too grandiose for my peers.

Mrs.K: By all means--but why only the conclusion? I should like to hear

all of it. [as she stirs the pot over stove]

Albert: No time, mother--the oatmeal, remember? [he clears voice

again]...Thus, O mighty men of frontier destiny,[father enters and

goes to refrigerator] join me in this quest for grander, higher

horizons of the new age of philosopher-kings! [he turns to mother,

anxiously awaiting her reaction]

Mrs.K: [stops stirring] Oh, simply smashing, child! The lasting ring of

pure oratory!....Of course, we cannot let it stand as addressed

only to 'men'. Surely there are girls in the club; there's Donna;

she certainly wouldn't tolerate it--speaking of whom, are the

Franklin boy and she still on friendly terms?

Al: That's like asking if oranges still have orange rinds. They've been

inseparable for more than I can remember. It's more than just

'friendly' now.

Mrs.K: [mutters]Oh, that's too bad....[putting finger to chin in returning

to the issue] Well, where was I?...Oh, furthermore, I rather think

'knowledgeable' would be more commensurate than 'mighty'.[Albert

gratefully acknowledges by immediately making the changes]

Mr.K.: [drinking orange juice] If you turn that speech into the teacher or

for publication in the school paper be sure to asterisk it, noting

that your mother is co-author. [he laughed] Big thing today those

little stars--just ask Roger Maris. [shakes head] No, on

reflection, I suppose you wouldn't want to know.

Mrs.K: Now, dear, you're not being fair. We're would you be without your

mother?

Mr.K.: [ponders aside] I don't think she meant it that way.[to her] Must

you remind me of where I am, what I am. Besides, it's

uncharacteristic of you to give credit to my mother--after all, you

are the one responsible for my prestigious standing in the

community.

Mrs.K: Sarcasm is unsuitable at anytime but particularly before

oatmeal.[she doles them out in bowls]

Mr.K.: [unfolding a newspaper he looks over at her] Good grief, shouldn't

they vary in size? [pointing to the three bowls] One for the papa

bear...

Mrs.K: Enough! I told you it's too early in the morning.

Albert: [checking over speech, committing it to memory, stopping by table

to dip spoon into bowl] 'O knowledgeable men,' [turns to mother]

Oh, yes, mother, that does sound much better. 'O knowledgeable

men...and women'<?>...Mother, how can I possibly address the girls

as women?"

Mrs.K: And why not? You were perfectly comfortable calling boys men.

Albert: Yes, I know, mother,..somehow it sounded proper alone.

Mr.K.: Why not simply 'boys and girls'?

Mrs.K: Oh, Peter, that sounds dreadful...so immature! No 'knowledgeable

men and women' has a strength to it.

Mr.K.: And dreadfully old. How about 'laddies and lassies', son?

[chuckling]

Mrs.K: Oh, so canine!

Mr.K: Sure you don't mean bitchy?

Mrs.K: Eat your oatmeal.

Mr.K.: 'Young ladies and gentleman,' then? [he went back to his newspaper

and juice]

Albert: By Jove, Dad, I think you got it!

Mr.K.: [looks up from paper] Why, thank you, Higgins.

Albert: Partly, that is,...yes, it shall be 'young men and women'! [he

continues to pace, his lips moving furiously; then he pauses as a

thought struck] Say, Dad! You forgot Plato's Laws again!

Mr.K.: [nose still in newspaper] No, son I went to the campus library

expressly for you yesterday. It seems your mother intercepted it.

You know how she has to preview everything you read so she can keep

ahead of you. Your mother is a born editor and mentor.

Mrs.K: And just what is wrong with that? [suspending her spoon of oatmeal]

More parents should take an interest in their children. Look at the

Kennedys. Where would they be?

Mr.K.: Oh, back to that again, eh? [he thumbed the newspaper] My, my

Friendly's is at again with another big sale on color TV's--and

here we are without even a black and white.

Mrs.K: [looking beseechingly above] Forgive him, Hermes, the blasphemy of

ordering the "Times" to read the ads! [looking over at him] Don't

worry, dear, our battlements are well-defended against that peasant

onslaught.

Mr.K.: And where would Kennedy be without television?

Mrs.K: Oh, tragic! A man of Nixon's character, losing because of his five

o'clock shadow.

Mr.K: I rather think it was because of his shadowy character that he lost

the election.

Albert: [jamming his books into an already stuffed schoolbag] Say, Dad!...

Mrs.K: Will you please take that awful interjection of yours out with the

garbage!

Mr.K.: Say, son, your mother is right take it out along with 'by Jove'.

Albert: [ignoring both of them] What was John Locke's contribution to

American politics?

Mr.K.: Oh, off hand I'd say the right to revolution and the separation of

powers.

Albert: Well, there was no mention of the revolution aspect in our social

studies class, but I knew I was right, and yet the teacher marked

me wrong and I only got a ninety on my test!

Mrs.K: Horrors! Why, you never told me.

Albert: I didn't want to upset you, mother.

Mr.K.: Yes, "nineties" are very upsetting in this house....Well, what is

the answer?

Albert: Oh, some fine point. I have it here. [retrieves paper from

schoolbag]

Mrs.K: Let me see that [as he hands it to his father, she snatches it away

and proceeds to read it] Oh, that man is ridiculous!

Mr.K.: The test paper was intended for me, do you mind? [he holds out

hand; she gives it back to him, shaking her head in disgust; he

reads it] Why, no wonder,...you have a smart teacher, son,...

Mrs.K: How absurd!

Albert: How do you mean that, Dad?

Mr.K.: The teacher's emphasis apparently was on separation of powers but

with legislative control--a very significant difference.

Mrs.K: Oh, for heaven's sake--why, with separation, it is understood.

Mr.K.: It is? Our truly great presidents didn't think so. They wouldn't

have gotten anything done if they subjected themselves to control.

Mrs.K: You sound like a czarist.

Mr.K.: Czars weren't subjected to the electorate.

Albert: I must not have been in class that day.

Mrs.K: More likely the teacher didn't emphasize it and came upon the idea

afterwards.

Mr.K.: That's enough, Laura. You know, I can't take your relentless

criticism of teachers--before my oatmeal.[he put down the paper and picked up a spoon]

Scene 2

[Franklin kitchen-same hour; through backdrop window can be seen bare plots

and small homes; modern--light knotty-pine or bright color cabinets of the

era; table at s.c is a bright formica; Mrs. Franklin in simple terry robe

setting the breakfast table in the center of which is a giant box of

Kellogg's cornflakes; a highchair is next to the table and upstage left is

a playpen partially visible; R&R tune of the era begins to blast; she holds

her ears momentarily; then moves downstage and presumably yells up to a

second floor]

Mrs.Fr: Turn off that clock-radio, Dawn, and get dressed--don't be late for

school again. Be sure Jimmy's awake--up late last night studying.

[moves toward stagecenter] Don't know where that boy gets that busy

brain from. [a baby wail is heard from 'above'; she comes downstage

again to yell up] Dawn, check the baby--must've lost her bottle!

[she goes center again to busy about her kitchen; Mr. Franklin

enters, work clothes and heavy shoes; kisses wife; sits down at

table]

Mr.Fr: That was some show last night, wasn't it hon? Old gramps gets

funnier every week.

Mrs.Fr: You say that every Thursday morning.

Mr.Fr: [reaching for box]I do really?

Mrs.Fr: [she nods and smiles] He is funny though--puts me in mind of my

Uncle Joe.

Mr.Fr: [laughs] You say that every Thursday!

Mrs.Fr: I do really?[cuts some oranges, gets out squeezer] Smart, he was,

though.

Mr.Fr: Who?[shaking contents into bowl] Pappy?

Mrs.Fr: No, silly, Uncle Joe.

Mr.Fr: Oh, say that all the time, too

Mrs.Fr: Almost a doctor, he was--till Wall Street crashed.

Mr.Fr: [pouring milk into bowl] Guess there was a lot of might've-beens

from the depression.

Mrs.Fr: Suppose Jimmy's got his brains. That baby of mine, though...

Mr.Fr: Carol teething?

Mrs.Fr: Huh? Oh, Carol...yes, she is...Of course, I meant Dawn....Nobody

like her from either side.

Mr.Fr: That's for sure.

Mrs.Fr: With kids so spoiled today, I wonder.

Mr.Fr: Wondering beats worrying.

Mrs.Fr: That's for sure...such a darlin, she is...still, I wonder myself.

Dawn: [Dawn enters, shiny chestnut pony tail bouncing; she is wearing a

green sweater and yellow skirt] Hi, Dad. [kisses him; goes to

mother, kisses her; helps her mother prepare breakfast--pours

father's coffee, gets out milk, butter, etc.; disappears for a

moment, returns with a tabloid which she hands to her father; sits

down and carefully shakes box and puts it back after handful of

flakes are deposited in her bowl; her mother watches her, then

takes box and dumps more into her bowl]

Dawn: Oh, Mom, not so much!

Mrs.Fr: There's nothing wrong with your figure. [Dawn shakes head and

purses lips]

Dawn: Oh, Mom, really--it has nothing to with my figure, just can't eat

much so early.

Mrs.Fr: Could help your grades, maybe.

Dawn: Doubt that, Mom.

Mr.Fr: [thumbs through paper] God, I hate it when they have no baseball

news. Never should have let the Sporting News run out....[thumbs

some more] Well,...how about that?...Shakespeare in the White

House!

Jim: [enters tucking in shirt-tails] What's the matter, Pop? No

television in the White House? Besides old news, Pop--that was last

year.

Mr.Fr: Beats me. some culture article, I guess--sure not goin to read it.

Jim: Right, Pop, leave the reading to us classy guys.

Dawn: Oh, Jimmy, I hate it when you're like this. Must you be a smart

aleck, especially with Dad? Daddy works so hard for us, especially

for you, making it possible for you to do the reading in the family

and to revel in your own image of giant at school.

Jim: Tall order.

Mrs.Fr: That's right....An awful lot of your father's labor goes into that

college account.

Jim: God, what a greeting! Dad didn't take it so glumly. Why do you

have to be so darn serious, sis? [to his father] How were the

McCoys last night, Pop?...Learn anything new?

Dawn: [to her mother] See, Mom? He's at it again--always showing off his

brains. Why can't he have some humility?

Mrs.Fr: Hold your tongue, boy. You were never like this--what's come over

you?[Jimmy lowers head in mock contrition]

Mr.Fr: Never intend to learn anything from TV, Jimmy. Just an outlet for a

tired old man who, as your sister says, works hard to see his wise

guy son gets to college.

Mrs.Fr: Remember that, son, and maybe there won't be a next time you talk

down to your father.

Jim: Sorry, Pop,...didn't mean anything by it. Too stuffed with

knowledge to have much sentiment, I guess.

Dawn: Then all the Shakespeare studied in your honors class didn't help

you any. Maybe you should visit the White House and find some

culture.

Jim: Yeah, like you get culture taking all those business courses. How

come our First Lady doesn't rub off on you? She's supposed to be

an inspiration to you gals.

Dawn: I don't have your brains. Still, an evening with Shakespeare

wouldn't be so deadening--I love the many sounds of his words.

Mr.Fr: Yeah, I imagine it takes a heap of brains to understand him. But

what I don't understand is why she brought--what do you call

him?[scratching his head]

Jim: Bard, Pop.

Mr.Fr: Yeah, well, why Shakespeare, a guy of his talent to Washington?--

sure aren't any brains there.

Dawn: Can't hurt, Dad....All the same, it's hard to believe such a lovely

woman could have such intelligence. She must have been like Donna

as a child.

Jim: What do you know about Donna?

Dawn: Why, because you never bring her around here anymore?

Mr.Fr: Well, Dawny, maybe the first lady really hasn't the brains you

think she has and with her position feels she must get it through

Shakespeare, rather than through Pappy McCoy. [he laughs, Dawn

smiles politely, the others ignore it]

Jim: Oh, she understands the old Bard all right. To marry the president

she would have to--culture attracts culture, especially in their

circle.

Mrs.Fr: Oh?...Is that what they call money nowadays--culture?

Dawn: Then, my all-wise brother, how do you explain Marilyn Monroe and

Arthur Miller?

Jim: I don't have to--they're not together anymore. But I suppose, it

was the next logical step from her making it to the top in

baseball. [he looks up at the clock on a backdrop and leaps out of

his chair] Look at the time! Gotta run. Donna will skin me alive if

I keep her waiting.

Dawn: [excitedly]Oh, will Donna be coming?

Jim: No....[takes jacket from hook u.s.] Meeting her on the corner.

Mr.Fr: Hold on, son, I'll walk with you to the bus.

Jim: No offense intended, Pop; but no thanks. She's picking me up at

the corner in her new car today. [he runs off]

Dawn: Gee, a new car! She's barely a year older than me.

Mrs.Fr: Aren't you going to give your sister a ride to school?

Dawn: No, Mom, Penny's coming by. He wouldn't anyway.

Mrs.Fr: Suppose they like being alone--have more in common than they don't.

Dawn: Yes. But not very bright in love matters, if he has to meet her

somewhere.

Mr.Fr: [looking over at Dawn] Maybe he's brighter than you think in

playing the game--a new car, wow.[head back in paper] Do I know

this girl?

Dawn: [pondering other thought] And what's wrong with here, anyway? No

excuse for it. [looks up at him] Huh?...Dad! Of course, you know--

just happens to be the smartest girl in school! Figures, doesn't

it?

Mr.Fr: Oh, little Donny![flips page] All grown up, eh?...driving a car!

Where does the time go? Hard to believe Eisenhower isn't our

president anymore....Little, Donny, yes always a smart one--little

too smart

Mrs.Fr: No Monroe and Miller there, I guess.

Dawn: No, Mom, they seem to be intelligently in love--if there is such a

thing.

Mrs.Fr: My little boy in love? Where does he find the time? He always has

his head in a book!

Dawn: Two heads in a book now--very quaint to see them always studying

together--I must say that for them. Donna has seen to that--such a

marvel that girl.

Mr.Fr: [puts paper down] This isn't going to interfere with his college

plans, is it? Why, they were just baby playmates; now you tell me

they're serious?

Dawn: Not exactly babies, Dad, after all, she didn't move into the

district until the third grade. Anyway there's nothing to worry

about--how could it possibly? They're both so profoundly bookish.

It's not what you think. Nothing like that could ever happen.

Jimmy claims he's steeped in platonic love.

Mr.Fr: What the devil is that?

Dawn: Two minds in love.

Mrs.Fr: Why, it does sound quaint. Nothing new, though, they've always

been that way--studying, going to school clubs, Sunday school,

always together.

Mr.Fr: And very safe.[they laugh, except Dawn]

Dawn: Not Sunday school, Mom. She was in my class at church. We went

together.

Mrs.Fr: My, that's right--you two used to be very close in the old days.

[baby cries; she rises from table instinctively] Must go to the

baby. You have the note, Dawn, for the office, but be sure to tell

your afternoon teachers you'll be let out early tomorrow for your

dental appointment in case they have weekend assignments for you.

[exits pr.r.]

Dawn: Will do, Mom.

Mr.F: Yep, it's that time.[takes a last drink from coffee cup; leans

over, kissing Dawn on the forehead and lightly jerking her

ponytail] Headin for the shop, darlin.

Dawn: Bye, Dad--have a good day.[touches his hand] Be careful on the

roofs.

Mr.Fr: [heads toward door] You too.[reaching for coat on hook u.s.; goes

to door, swings it open]

Penny: [Penny is standing in doorway, hair in a bouffant but because of

her knotty curls, it appears rather unorthodox; She is wearing a

plaid skirt, predominantly red under a short dark red coat] Uh,

...was just going to ring![steps in]

Mr.F: Penny! My, how you've grown into a pretty thing!

Penny: [passes him by, smiling] Oh, Mr.Franklin, you say that every time

you see me--in fact, just yesterday.

Mr.F: Only yesterday? My, time flies.[exits shaking head in wonderment]

[Penny remains near door as Dawn goes upstage to with the bowls to put on a

countertop; they both return to table and Penny sits down as Dawn clears

more from the table]

Penny: [looking around] Uh, where's Jimmy...school already?

Dawn: Meeting Donna.[takes cups, glasses to up.s.]

Penny: Stupid question[sadly]...two peas in a pod....Doesn't seem like

they'll ever break up.[sighs] And here it is our last year already.

Dawn: [returns] Two more for me. What am I going to do with out you,

Penny? You've been like a big sister.[pours coffee for her]

Penny: You'll manage. You've matured,...so how come you didn't get nasty

like the rest of us?.

Dawn: [giggles] Oh, and I suppose you are?...I'm so grateful that you

spoke up for me to get me in Office Practice. That surely helps me

to grow up. So many things expected of you to do on your own. I

like that. I feel so useless in regular classes.

Penny: Wish I had entered it sooner like you. I'd be in advance now.

Still, I'm glad you're in there with me.

Dawn: Oh, and you're so good at it too! You could get a top paying job in

any office right now. I wouldn't even get by if you weren't in

there with me. Oh, I must sound so selfish, huh?...like I'm holding

you back.

Penny: Dawn, stop that. Why do you always think so little of yourself? You

simply don't understand how helpful you are. You say I'm your big

sister. Gosh, sometimes I think that you are mine! Oh, I know you

need me, but I need you too in a different way. So your naive, so

innocent, and I don't let the wise guys and dolls take advantage of

you; but you help me in so many ways, especially by how you look at

things. And, you know, you're not so bad yourself in Office

Practice--Mrs. Gorman thinks the world of you.

Dawn: Yes, how nice she is. I guess it's because I'm the youngest.

Penny: [shakes head] You're impossible. She's sees potential in you.

Dawn: But the grade.

Penny: You're just a sophomore. Have some patience. It'll come. Don't be

so concerned. There's nothing you can do about...well, you know,

competing against Jimmy. God, he's so smart!

Dawn: Oh, you know it isn't that--I wouldn't dream of competing with him

even I were capable of it. I'm so proud of him. I wouldn't want it

any other way, Penny.

Penny: Hmm, that figures, coming from you.

Dawn: It's just that it must be so nice to come home with an 'A' in

something. What's it like?

Penny: I only get them in business courses. Yeah, the first one gives you

a nice feeling. Mom and Dad made a big thing of it. Then it wears

off. I think they expect it now, and they wonder why just in

business.

Dawn: Even so it must be nice.

Penny: Oh, Dawn, I'd give you all my A's if I could be an 'A' person like

you.

Dawn: [going up.s. for her jacket] Oh, you!...do you see now what I mean?

Whatever am I going to do without you?[she chuckles]

Penny: [raises cup] Yes, and I'll miss this. Probably go back to milk and

grow fat.

Dawn: Seems so strange that you drink coffee now--so grown up

Penny: [getting up from table] Beats smoking. Did you know the schedule's

been changed today? Mr. Finley is substituting club activity period

for fourth period to get more students to sign up. Those like us

can visit other clubs if we want to. I put us down--it had to be

done yesterday--for the social studies club.

Dawn: But what about our own club?

Penny: Won't be much doing there. Besides we should know what's going on

elsewhere.

Dawn: I heard the announcement but I didn't know what Mr.Finley was

talking about....So confusing changing schedules around like

that....Social studies, you say? Why Jimmy is in that? Oh, Penny,

you fox! Gosh, you're never going to give up on him, are you?

Penny: Can't help it. Got it bad. Just one of those things; like the song

says.

Dawn: He's so wrapped up in Donna, he'd be lost without her; like I'm

going to feel when you graduate.

Penny: All I can do is go on hoping. It hurt back in elementary school and

it hurts even more today. I knew it since before kindergarten that

he was for me.

Dawn: You've said it a hundred times; and I'll say this again: at such a

young age you can't be sure of anything.

Penny: Who knows the mystery of feelings? Even with Donna's dominating the

scene since third grade--oh, did she ever come on to steal the

show!--I knew that was my exit cue, but my torch still flames. Oh,

God if only she were not so perfect!--cold as ice though.

Dawn: Well, like you say, who knows the mystery? Things change--sometimes

when least expected. Who could ever predict three years age that we

would go from Mamie and Ike, a sweet old couple to Jackie and John,

young and vigorous....[looks out wistfully] Promise you won't get

mad when I say this?

Penny: When do I ever get mad at you?

Dawn: Well,...I really don't see Donna as cold.

Penny: [feints a growl]There's always a first time.[then laughs] Dawn, you

haven't been around her lately.

Dawn: I know...years...like we're strangers now.

Penny: Maybe I really couldn't say that about her when she was younger and

other than because it was just mean jealousy. But believe me she's

obnoxious today. Besides, when do you ever see anything but good in

people? Except maybe in yourself because you've never gotten that

elusive 'A'.[Dawn laughs] Don't worry, little one, you'll knock the

socks off of them before you graduate.

Dawn: Oh, do you really think so?

Penny: Absolutely--if something can be done about your spelling.[they

laugh and head for the door]

Scene 3

[School cafeteria-before classes; tables here and there; up.s. couple of

uniformed cafeteria helpers sponging tables, placing chairs, custodian

comes across stage to deposit some refuse containers; Donna and Jimmy enter

with milk containers and cellophaned wrapped roll and bagel; Donna is

wearing a dark blue dress; her hair, though long, is carefully swept up;

they sit down at small table s.c.]

Jim: I dig this new senior privilege. Good ole Finley, knows just when

to toss a lagniappe when he senses senior class restiveness.

Donna: Oh, yes, marvelous leadership; when to giveth and taketh. [unwraps

roll] Still prefer the deli roll to this cheap imitation.

Jim: Ah, yes, your favorite subject.

Donna: Rolls?

Jim: [bites off a chunk of his bagel, chews, swallows] No, cheap

imitations.

Donna: [Bette--sticky bouffant, short skirt<above knee>, black silk-

stockings--enters and slinks cross stage to upstage and

disappears;Donna's eyes following her contemptuously] Yes,

apparently you're right--cheap anyway....Or Albert imitating

Kennedy.

Jim: Is that so bad?

Donna: [chewing the roll daintily, lips barely moving, no grotesque signs

of jaw movement or swallowing] No, the roll isn't half bad.

Jim: The bagel isn't half good.

Donna: Oh, my that bad, eh? I just assumed bagels were bagels--you either

like them or you don't. Never knew bagel consumers were

discriminating.

Jim: Oh, roll eaters are, eh?

Donna: Of course, except there are those who are content with those awful

packaged ones at the supermarkets--the same supplier probably drops

off the day-old-stuff here. Then there is the deli that makes his

own or orders daily from the legitimate deli roll baker in the

city; then there is the superb local baker roll.

Jim: I should think the same levels apply to the bagel.

Donna: Perhaps, not familiar with the bagel--don't wish to be. Except I

doubt that the German bakers around here are conversant with the

bagel.

Jim: At any rate, I was talking about Albert?

Donna: When?

Jim: Oh, about an hour ago. Cheap imitations, remember?

Donna: [wobbles head, bats eyelashes,flutters fingers around face] Oh,

Bette, the black stocking queen.

Jim: Yes,...but after...what you said...the cheap shot at Albert

Donna: My, you have cheap on the brain.

Jim: I suppose I have to with a girlfriend that looks down on everyone

I'm afraid I'm paranoid.

Donna: Oh, don't be! You're at least eight inches taller.

Jim: If the time comes, I trust you'll be sure I'm sitting down. So

anyway, I think, Albert is a credit to the president

Donna: Oh, but is it necessarily the other way around? Speak to my father;

he still thinks Nixon is the better man.

Jim: Well, not everyone in your family is perfect. At any rate we have

to humor Albert today and be supportive at the meeting.

Donna: Oh, why must he pursue this, dragging us with him?

Jim: It's the spirit of the times.

Donna: [sighs] Yes, I know: "Ask not what..."

Jim: Essence of civilization, after all.

Donna: Really, I had hoped that it was on the premise that one should ask

what he can do for himself

Jim: Possibly, but it seems you generously invited me along on your

selfish quest.

Donna: True, it's seldom I let my hair down. I like to think of you as a

part of me.

Jim: You being sentimental--my ears are deceiving me.

Donna: Not so sentimental--rather I suspect, it's for me in the end.

Jim: I should've realized. What's in it for you in the end, then,

concerning our "Currents" club?

Donna: Perhaps I need domestication. Career-bound or not a woman must

still be a mother to her man, you know? Perhaps I could darn socks

for the poor.

Jim: Had no idea you could darn.

Donna: I can't; perhaps I need to mend my ways.

Jim: Difficult to imagine you would admit to that.

Donna: Haven't admitted it--but I have been noticing Dawn in the corridors

lately.

Jim: Oh? Does my dear sister have holes in her socks?

Donna: Oh, no, never Dawn...

Jim: Drink your milk. It'll give sustenance to your head. You seem to be

lacking this morning. Perhaps it is the brain that needs

mending....We really should do something for Albert.

Donna: I thought it was for the country?

Jim: Yes, certainly, but Albert too--he needs to do this.

Donna: Don't tell me it's for his mother?

Jim: No, for Adlai.

Donna: Oh, Zeus, will he never free himself from him? It's as overwhelming

as his mother.

Jim: It's a kind of conscience with him, gnawing away for almost a

decade--well, actually the second time Adlai ran.

Donna: Yes, I suppose, I knew it was an obsession, never linked it to

conscience, though....On the otherhand,...[gazes out to the

audience absently, picking the poppy seeds] perhaps you're right.

Also, though, it's a statement against his mother--what with her

conservative style and breathing down his neck all the time. Thank

the gods my parents leave me alone or I might turn out to be a

radical.

Jim: Easy for you to say, being so darn self-sufficient. Most students their

parents.

Donna: [seemingly engrossed in somewhere else again, gazing out] I

wonder...[Jimmy rises from table, reaches for containers and

wrappers; she grabs hers and takes a last sip, then hands container

to him as she continues to "wonder"; he heads for the up.s. refuse

can; she mutters]...Oh, that child--why doesn't she go away?

Jim: {returns, stands by the table, waiting, snaps finger] Are you

staying, dreamer? We have to announce in homeroom that the club

needs bodies.

Donna: That's the basic problem, isn't it? The club doesn't need minds.

Jim: You don't really have to darn socks.

Donna: [rises, slings handbag on shoulder, picks up stack of books;

circles table] Oh, teach math to Negro children, I suppose?

Jim: Why not? You'd be good at it. You did a heck of a job on me.

Donna: That's different. You had something to begin with.

Jim: I hope you're not suggesting...

Donna: [leans back on edge of table] Horrors, no. I simply meant

that...well, there's an affinity. I don't know why, but with you I

felt an obligation. I just can't motivate myself to be some kind of

public works.

Jim: If only the nation could motivate your kind to think publicly. They

say in his second term the peace corps will include work at home.

Donna: Seems to me it should've begun with this country....Oh, it's not

that I don't care....Well, yes, I suppose, I don't actually. I

mean I know the world should be better...

Jim: But you're not about to lift a finger to help it, right?

Donna: [sighs] Sadly, it appears to be the case.

Jim: You have company--neither do I. [he reaches to ruffle her hair]

Donna: [she dodges him instantly] Leave my hair alone; you know how I

hate that.

[end of act 1] http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/rrksr

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