Soldan High School - Scrip Yearbook (St Louis, MO)

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re - ik- ei,-me -is ref: ef' - f a va The Birthday Party CH ARA C TERS The MOTHER MAUD 1- e JESSICA, her daughters BOBBIE-A son, aged nine Scene: Large kitchen of a cottage in a southern Illinois town. Evening of a cloudy March day. The sun's setting has been obscured by a drifting of black clouds in the west. Inside the cottage the table has been set as for a festive occasion and the mother, her small son, and two daughters are settled into expectant attitudes. Tabby dozes on the hearth. J ESSI CA: Won't father be surprised? He forgot all about today's being his birthday: but just wait till he gets home and sees all the e good things waiting for him. Did you End his slippers, Maud? MOTHER: I found them, Jessie. They were under the easy chair. J ESSI CA: I can hardly wait till father comes home. I hope he isnit late. Maud, what's the matter? MAUD: Oh, it's nothing, Jess. Last night I dreamed that a great black bird had shut out the sun-but I won't spoil the evening with my dismal dreams. I've been foolish to let myself think about it. MOTHER: Do you know, I've felt a little uneasiness myself, dear. I suppose it's just the weather. BOBBIE: Mother, I'm hungry. MOTHER: Be patient, dear. Father will be home very soon, now. CShe picks up the Bible and turns the pages slowly, reading bits ot' it to herself :J ' 'The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away- MAUD: CMoving nervously in her chair., O, don't, mother. fMeanwhile, Bobbie has gone to the windowj BOBBIE: What makes the sky so black over there, mother? MOTHER: fWithout looking up.D Where, dear? BOBBIE: Over that way. CHe points to the Westj MOTHER: Oh, I suppose-Why, Maud, how nervous you are tonight. Is something troubling you'? MAUD: No. Oh,-no, it's nothing. What do you suppose is keeping father? JESSICA: Maybe the books didn't balance and he stayed to find the error. MOTHER: I think that's the reason. fShe rises and walks over to the table. She straightens an imag- inary wrinkle out of the cloth: then goes back to her seat., BOBBIE: Mother, can't I have a piece of bread and butter till daddy gets home? MOTHER: Yes, dear. Jessie, won't you give him a piece? Just listen to that wind. There must be a storm coming. MAUD: Brrrl It makes one shiver just to hear it. I hope father gets home before the storm breaks. 15

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142' efi.5 'fri' fe 'VT G- e f-'x ., .: . -.1 MARGE: I certainly do mind! ' MR. JACKSON: There is a policeman outside. MARGE: QLeaving.l A Policeman? VVhat do you mean? fExit Marge and Mr. jackson., fEntet Grandma with black suitcasej GRANDMA: That girl! I've hunted all over the station for her. When I find her, I am going to keep an eye on her. fEnter Policemanj POLICE MAN: Excuse me, lady, but I'll have to inspect that suitcase. GRANDMA: Oh, no you don't. This is my granddaughter's. It's none of your business what's in itg and besides, we are not bootleggers. POLICE MAN: But madaml- GRAND MA: I can't help it. You'1l have to wait until Margery comes back. CEnter Margery and Mr. jackson., MARGE: Why, Grandma! Where did you get that suitcase? Here's mine. - GRANDMA: No, this is yours. CThe policeman opens the suitcase near grandma and pulls out a stocking. Grandma jerks it out of his hand and violently shuts the case., GRANDMA: See! See! I told you so! QTo policemanj And you are about the most impertinent man I ever saw and besides- MARGE: Oh, Grandma! Sign off and let somebody else broad- cast. CTO Mr. jackson., I'm sorry. It was all my fault. QExit policemanj MR. JACKSON: That's all right. Mistakes will happen. CA train dispatcher is heard calling All aboard. J MR. JACKSON: That's my train. Good-day. fHe picks up a suitcase and rushes off., GRANDMA: Margery, give me my handkerchief that I put in your suitcase. - QMarge opens the suitcase and pulls out a shi:-tj MARGE: Can you beat that! He's got the wrong one again. CEn ter Mt. Jackson excitedly with an open suitcase in one hand and a stocking in the otherj GRANDMA: CGrabbing suitcase., Give me that suitcase. I'l1 take care of it. CA shrill whistle is heardj , MR. JACKSON: Oh! My train -it's gone. MARGE: Is that the six-thirty to Chicago? Oh! that's mine too. It's all your fault. MR. J AC KSON: And the next one doesn't leave for six hours. MARGE: I see ourselves parked here for six hours. fExit Mr. jackson., fGrandma and Marge rush angrily to a bench and place the suitcase between themj GRANDMA: It's all your fault. You shouldn't have left in the first place, and besides- QShe looks over and sees Marge's fingers stuck in her eats., ccuttaing ' Harvey Yaeger, 7. 14

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4 JESSICA: QFrom the window, to which she had moved during the conversa tion., There's a man coming up the road, now. I can't make out who it is for the darkness. MAUD: CEagerly going to the window.J Is it father? Oh, nog it's only Mr. Burrows on his way home. My, that wind must be strong. He can hardly make headway against it. fThey turn away from the window., I'm so worried about father. JESSICA: Maud, look at Tabby. What do you suppose makes her run around like that? See, she's clawing at the door, now. MAUD: I've heard it said that cats can sense danger or calamity ap- proaching. Do you suppose-but it can't be. Oh, God, don't let anything happen to father! BOBBIE: Oh, mother, look at those things flying by. CThe mother and daughters rush to the windowj M O T HE R: It's a tornado! There's the funnel-It has struck the J ohnson's house. May heaven help them now! MAUD: Mother, lookg it's father coming through all that storm and flying trees and ironbits. Father! Oh! CShe screams at what she sees, and fain ts from horror., JESSICA: It struck him! The board. It struck him. Mother! Mother, don't go. fBut Jessica is too late to stop her. She flies to the door. The lights go out. There is utter darkness. A scream, a terrible crash, another scream. A voice moansj O, father, your birthday. fAnother cry.J ' Mother! Lost, all lost! CA sobj then only the sound of the pitiless stormj -Alexander Hieken, Drama Class. Rain gif..-1.335 RIZZLE fig Soft, black A sable mantle ' gf' 9 . The night descends il-is, Murky silhouettes. The noises of the streets Muffled by this mammoth blanket, I wonder why? The continuous weeping, The crowd never going to bed The same day they get up. The steady weeping, Blurred lights- Like ideals- - Rain. -Ted Young,' 7. 10