DESMOND'S WOODS
(a radio play) by Ken Dowen
©1998 by Ken Dowen
(As performed on Theater Now on The
Air, WCUW fm radion, 1989)
Characters: Desmond
Bea Richard
Waiter Narrator
(THEME UP. APRIL IN PARIS.)
NARRATOR
It's late spring. The ice has been off Flint's pond for several weeks. The world is wet tonight with rain and tears and images of light and dark are not very sharp. Windshield wipers mark time as Beatrice Pope reaches the edge of town. Beatrice Pope is a poet. Tonight she rushes to here friend and lover hoping she's not too late and poetry be damned. Desmond Dickens is a sculptor, a creator who, moments ago, wept words of self-destruction into the phone. The receiver clicked like a cocked trigger hammer. Beatrice Pope pushes against the door but it won't give, the damp weather makes it stick. It's raining as it was raining two weeks ago, only then, it was raining chips of marble--raining chips of marble on the floor of Desmond's studio. Let's return .....
(Fade out on return.) (Hammer and chisel noises.)
BEA
Don't be foolish, Desmond.
DESMOND
I just think you ought to forget about me.
BEA
Do you really want me to leave you, Desmond?
DESMOND
Hell, you're my inspiration. You, strong coffee, and this old shop. One man shouldn't have it so good and I could never give up the coffee.
BEA
You shouldn't joke about our relationship.
DESMOND
These woods and this nook is my own little world, Desmond's world and I can joke if I want to and I can make love to you all day. This is Utopia, Baby.
BEA
Utopia?
DESMOND
Well, I make sculptures, you make poems and no one buys either one but we have the woods and the mattress. What else is there?
BEA
Your utopia isn't air tight, Desmond. Someday, what's out there is going to get into your utopia as easily as the mice.
DESMOND
No....no bowling alleys, shopping malls or condominiums allowed in this world. Mice, huh. Well, mice are ok if I don't see them. Oh, and poets too. They're ok if they're soft and sensual. .
BEA
I don't know if I'm a poet.
DESMOND
Don't worry about it, just write poems.
BEA
Maybe I should see others. It would be good for my writing.
DESMOND
Now, Bea, I don't know about that.
BEA
Desmond, is there just a tinge of jealousy in your concern? What if I were to discover another lover because I though you wanted me to?
DESMOND
That, my dear, is irony.
BEA
You've often said one must be absolutely certain before striking the chisel.
DESMOND
You have to know when and when not to take the court jester seriously, Beatrice.
BEA
You're going to be an artist forever, Desmond and I'll never know when to take you seriously. There's irony in that, no?
DESMOND
Not forever, Bea, only so long as I can paint with my dick. Renoir said that the artist paints with his dick. So, as long as I paint with my dick I'll keep from being a fool, huh?
BEA
And what did Renoir believe women painted with ... their clitorises?
DESMOND
Hmmm. The strokes wouldn't be as broad of course....
BEA
Desmond, sometimes you are vulgar.
DESMOND
Now's not when I prefer to be vulgar. I'd rather save that for stuffy gallery openings or in academic environments.
BEA
Sometimes it irks me to hear an intelligent man like you speaking....
DESMOND
(Singing.) "Hey, you get off of my cloud."
BEA
I've got it, Lionel Richie?
DESMOND
No...the Stones, of course.
BEA
You're dating yourself, darling.
DESMOND
Listen, Maid Marion...I'm Robin Hood and this is Sherwood Forest and out there, the Sheriff of Nottingham just picked up a spare. Where would you rather be?
BEA
I have to be out there sometimes but, don't worry, I know how to avoid the sheriff.
DESMOND
I want to monopolize you. .cp255 BEA
I have a world too, Desmond. It's a world made of chips of inspiration. These chips jump out of people's pockets and neon lights. Sometimes they leap out of my lover's sculptures and land at my feet. Little chips, little chips, little chips.
DESMOND
Little chips, huh?
BEA
You see, Desmond. We are different.
DESMOND
I suppose we are.
BEA
You have your woods, squirrels, birds and rabbits....
DESMOND
Go on, honey. You're on a roll.
BEA
...and I have my city, cabbies, clerks and policemen.
DESMOND
Bravo!
BEA
Your boulders are my granite buildings but we share the sky and the winds. Whoosh!
DESMOND
Encore! Sap's running early this year.
DESMOND
Yes. I need to hear the wind in the woods every morning like my father.
BEA
The woods are part of your sculptures. .
DESMOND
My old man named me after the woods. He had his ashes scattered here. Whoosh! My father's ashes and brown pine needles make a forest floor.
BEA
I didn't know....
(End hammer and chisel noises.)
DESMOND
I was in Nam. He never got over my mother's leaving us. He needed her more than he needed the damn woods but he didn't realize it until it was too late....(opens drawer.)
BEA
What are you doing?
DESMOND
Did I ever show you his pistol? He just put the pistol up to his temple and....
BEA
Desmond, don't fool around with that.
DESMOND
BANG!
BEA
Desmond!
DESMOND
(Puts gun in drawer.) You get the picture...It happened just before I was discharged and I had the duty of watching the last blacksmith in the county's gray ash swirl with the fall leaves.
BEA
Oh, Desmond! (Pause.) I have been seeing someone, else.
DESMOND
Oh?
BEA
His name is Richard...Richard Hilway.
DESMOND
And what is this Hilway's specialty?
BEA
You are angry, Desmond. I guess I shouldn't have told you.
DESMOND
Don't be ridiculous. Tell me all about him.
BEA
He seems nice. He's a developer.
DESMOND
Photography, huh?
BEA
No, he's a land developer.
DESMOND
Now, I'm angry. You've taken up with a land raper?
BEA
People can change, Desmond.
DESMOND
Once a land raper, always a land raper.
BEA
He collects art. He says he knows your work and he'd like to purchase something.
DESMOND
(Sound of hammer and chisel.) Oh, really. Screw him. .
BEA
Really, Desmond I'd like to introduce you to him but if you're going to....
DESMOND
Did you....Are you in love with him?
BEA
The answer is no I didn't and no I'm not and we've only been out a few times.
DESMOND
And what do you talk about? His art collection?
BEA
Desmond you're jealous.
DESMOND
This guy sounds like the Sheriff of Nottingham. I want to kiss you. (Sounds of exchanged affection.) You know, it might be exciting having a married woman for a mistress but I want you for myself.
BEA
Honestly, Desmond, I'm not possessed by you and you don't possess me. We're not pieces of sculpture.
DESMOND
Yes, we're not pieces of sculpture.
BEA
We've got to be independent.
DESMOND
Yes, we've got to be independent.
BEA
Don't patronize me!
DESMOND
You may possess me. It's your decision. It's as easy as picking petals from a daisy. Will, won't, will, won't (Faster.) willwon'twillwon'twillwon't.
BEA
Desmond!
DESMOND
What about that cat of yours. Do you possess it or does it possess you? Meow!
BEA
Meow! (Pause.) Honestly, Desmond. I think I'll leave your Utopia so you can get some work done.
DESMOND
(Passionately.) Let's make love. Hold my brush. Hmmm.
BEA
Is that all you ever think about?
DESMOND
Renoir, remember Renoir.
BEA
Can you be serious for a moment?
DESMOND
We're opposites, we attract. You're clay; wet and pliable. I'm stone and very hard. We'll come together.
BEA
(Pulling away.) No, Desmond, not now.
DESMOND
Is this Richard bastard on your mind?
BEA
No, he wasn't, but I am meeting him this week. .
DESMOND
Oh.
BEA
Three dates and he proposes.
DESMOND
He asked you to marry him, the arrogant bastard? You're not going to are you? (Pause.) Bea?
BEA
Oh, Desmond.
DESMOND
Get out of here. Leave me alone. God damn it, leave it alone.
BEA
Don't be angry.
(Door opens/closes.)
(Music up and fade.) NARRATOR
It was warm the following week, unusually warm for this early in the spring. It was warm enough for baby strollers dragging mothers and uniformed men leaning against the red noses of their fire engines. It was even warm enough for lunch in the park where Beatrice Pope waited for Richard.
RICHARD
Bea! Bea, am I late? I'm sorry.
BEA
What's a half hour among friends?
RICHARD
Just friends, huh? I was hoping we'd mean more to each other by now.
BEA
These things take time, Richard. I really hardly know you.
RICHARD
This is the age of fast food and fast romance. (Laughs.) You're not laughing. I just made a joke.
BEA
A sad joke.
RICHARD
Where's you sense of humor?
BEA
It's a least a half hour late.
RICHARD
(Laughs.) There it is. You could have come up to the office. We even have coffee.
BEA
But no tea. .cp255 RICHARD
No. No tea, I'm afraid. Well, it's getting late. Where would you like to eat, Steak Junction, The Fatted Calf or maybe you'd like to do Japanese today?
BEA
I thought it'd be nice to eat here under the trees.
RICHARD
You want to eat here in the park? (Pause.) Bea?
BEA
Huh? Yes, yes here in the park.
RICHARD
Sure. I guess that'd be all right, if you'll join me.
BEA
What do you mean?
RICHARD
Earth to Bea, Earth to Bea. Your mind is someplace else.
BEA
Forgive me. I was just thinking about a friend of mine and his woods and his trees. I brought some sandwiches.
RICHARD
All the trees you'll ever need are here in the park. We're sitting under a Mountain Ash. There's more of them up north. (Pigeons fly.) Pigeons are annoying though. Well, what kind of sandwiches did you bring?
BEA
Tuna.
RICHARD
(His mouth full.) Have you thought about me? About my...proposal?
God does that sound corny?
BEA
Somewhat.
RICHARD
Well, I believe that anyone who hooks up with Richard Hilway is bound to be a somebody rather than an everybody.
BEA
Oh and why is that so important?
RICHARD
Well, I really care about what people think of me. You know people are unavoidable, they're everywhere in the big suburb. And I want people to say, "that guys got bucks. He's successful and he's got a nice looking wife, too."
BEA
(Sarcastically.) What are you talking about?
RICHARD
Do I sound archaic, like some kind of chauvinist?
BEA
Yes.
RICHARD
I wouldn't have my wife sit around the TV all afternoon.
BEA
Oh, you wouldn't have your wife do that?
RICHARD
You're funny, Bea. (Chuckles.) Just think though. If you were to take a job at Hilway and Son's Developers, we'd be close to each other all day. You'd have some real work. A perfect arrangement.
BEA
I see. You'd want me to work for your father's company. .
RICHARD
You could be a bookkeeper or something. We'd take our vacations together...
BEA
I don't understand how...
RICHARD
You're a little confused. That's understandable. You're cute when you're confused.
BEA
I'm not sure I'd want a job with your father's company.
RICHARD
Funny, Bea. You are funny. (Chuckles.) You don't have to work for the company if you don't want to. It's just an idea. I wouldn't care where you worked so long as you felt useful and it got you out of the house.
BEA
Can we talk about something else? Did you see Radio Days? I hear it's one of Woody's....
RICHARD
You hook up with me and I'll buy you a Volvo or a Mercedes, whatever. You'll be the best dressed woman at the PTA unless we send the kids to a private school. Now, Worcester Acad....
BEA
RICHARD?
RICHARD
Yeah, what?
BEA
Richard, I just don't think.... .
RICHARD
I wouldn't fool around if that's what you're worried about. I have my faith, like my father and his father and I wouldn't even think of ....
BEA
Aren't you the least bit curious to know what I want?
RICHARD
Sure. Tell me everything you want. I'll get it for you.
BEA
Really? Well, I want to write poems, and I want to have a man I can grow with, and I want to be able to laugh now and then when I've done something foolish or something wise. I want friends who'll try to understand me...
RICHARD
You want friends? We'll join the Country Club. Dad's been a member for years. No problem there.
BEA
No. (Pause.) No, Richard, listen to me...
RICHARD
You keep the friends you have now. They'll like me too. I have a way of being charming.
BEA
I don't think you understand....
RICHARD
No, you don't understand...anyway, I've got this big deal about to close. I'm talking big. Condo project, big bucks and there's an apartment for you and me in this deal, the classiest.
BEA
Oh, God, Richard. .
RICHARD
Last chance, baby. I don't know what else I can tell you. The point is, I'm on the way up and I like you, no, and I could love you. You're intelligent and beautiful.....
BEA
And I'd look lovely in the passenger seat of your Mercedes, right?
RICHARD
Sure you would.
BEA
When we met, at the University...
RICHARD
I remember.
BEA
You were rather shy, it seemed.
RICHARD
I'm sometimes shy around people I don't know.
BEA
There was a bit of mystery in your soft spoken manner. I was compelled to find out more about you.
RICHARD
I'm glad you were compelled.
BEA
NO! No, don't touch me, please.
RICHARD
I just wanted to....
BEA
(Almost to herself.) This always happens to me. I meet someone who seems quiet, so I assume we're somewhat alike and then, as I gradually get to know them, they get louder and louder until I can't stand it anymore.
RICHARD
What are you, neurotic?
BEA
Look, baby, you can take your cars, your private schools and your country clubs and this tuna sandwich and ...and... (Sounds of her walking away.)
RICHARD
(Shouting after her.) You better think about it, I'm not going to wait long.
(MUSIC BRIDGE.) NARRATOR
Beatrice was never really very far from Desmond. His mind, and his senses held her captive. She was as much a hostage as any muse could be. Along the path leading to Desmond's studio, Beatrice picked a spearmint leaf and placed it on her tongue. Bitter is sweet again, winter is spring again and the cycle continues.
(A knock on the door.)
DESMOND
Who's there? (From behind door.)
BEA
It's Bea.
DESMOND
Go away.
BEA
Desmond open this door.
DESMOND
Bea.
BEA
Are you all right? You don't look well. I'm sorry about the other day. I do love you, Desmond.
DESMOND
I'm all right...just working too hard.
BEA
You look awful.
DESMOND
I told you I was tired, that's all Beatrice. Now don't be difficult.
BEA
What's wrong, Desmond? For God's sake will you put that gun away!
DESMOND
Don't wife me!
BEA
What a mess! What's happened here? Did someone break in? Why would someone want to destroy your work?
DESMOND
Why would someone want to take the woods?
BEA
What are you talking about?
DESMOND
Here's the paper. See for yourself.
BEA
(Reading.) "Desmond Woods Condominium Project to begin soon." This is a mistake. These are your woods Desmond. No on can just come along and build....
DESMOND
There wasn't much work for a blacksmith in 1966. My father needed money, but he couldn't part with the shop his grandfather had built. So he sold the woods around the building to a logging company. They haven't logged these woods for years. I guess he was too proud to tell me about it.
BEA
(Reading.) ...plans for the 115 unit complex include a swimming
pool, tennis courts and a small park", spokesman for the
concern, Richard Hilway, said today. Richard Hilway? Oh, God.
DESMOND
He wants to build a small park, huh? Jesus.
BEA
Don't worry. I'll talk to Richard. Lie down and rest. I'll make tea. DESMOND
These are my troubles, Bea. My world's coming apart, not yours, damn it!
BEA
I'm part of Desmond's world. You said so yourself.
DESMOND
My goddamn woods are none of your concern. Do you know how long it takes a bulldozer to clear an acre of world? About as long as it's going to take me to destroy a lifetime of meaningless work. (Desmond ransacks his studio.) If the woods are to be destroyed, let's begin with destroying all that came from the woods.
BEA
DESMOND STOP IT! Stop this nonsense.
DESMOND
Leave me be. (Pause.) What power madness is. (Pause.)
BEA
You can't destroy your work, Desmond.
DESMOND
Leave me be. (Pause.) What power madness is. (Pause.)
BEA
You can't destroy your work, Desmond.
DESMOND
No, no I can't. (Breaking down.) Oh, Beatrice.
BEA
(Comforting.) It's going to be all right, Desmond. It's going to be all right. I can keep Richard from destroying theses woods. He wants to marry me.
DESMOND
I won't let you do it.
BEA
I know what these woods mean to you.
DESMOND
You won't marry him, Bea. I won't let you.
(Tea kettle whistles. Door closes.) (MUSIC BRIDGE.) NARRATOR
Later that week, forsythia bloomed into yellow bells the color of winter sun and sap dripped into buckets in the Berkshires. Later that week, the last patch of white on the park lawn disappeared. At Desmond Wood spring creatures shed skins and tufts of fur. Later that week, Cream of Broccoli was soup de jour at the Fatted Calf....
WAITER
Table for one, Sir?
DESMOND
I'm meeting someone, a Mr. Hillcroft. I'm Mr. Dickens.
WAITER
Pardon me, but are you referring to Mr. Hilway, Sir?
DESMOND
Hilway. Yes, Mr. Hilway.
WAITER
Right this way, sir.
(Footsteps through restaurant.)
WAITER
Mr. Dickens, Sir.
RICHARD
Do I know you?
DESMOND
I'm Desmond Dickens. (To waiter.) Gin and tonic, please.
WAITER
Very good, Sir. (To Richard.) Will there be anything else, Sir?
RICHARD
No..no, Ray. Thank you.
WAITER
Very good. (Exits.)
RICHARD
Oh, yeah. You're that artist friend of Bea's. Did Bea tell you? We're going to get married.
RICHARD
Well, here we are, what can I do for you, Dickens?
DESMOND
I just wanted to....
RICHARD
....thank me for staying the hell out of Desmond Wood, is that it? Well, you can thank Bea for that. She told me in no uncertain terms to stay out of your damn woods. I had several sights in mind for the project anyway, of course.
DESMOND
Of course.
RICHARD
I promised her the classiest apartment at Desmond Wood...I was even going to use the original name, huh, Desmond Wood. Sounds British that way, Desmond Wood. You're name has class, pal. Oh, well, C'est la vie.
WAITER
Your drink, Sir. Would either of you gentlemen like anything else?
RICHARD
I'll have the usual, Ray. (To Desmond.) Something to eat?
DESMOND
(Drinks his gin & tonic.) Lentil soup, thank you. Look,
you can't....
RICHARD
She thinks the world of you. Her father died last year you know. So, you own that shed on the corner of the lot, huh?
DESMOND
It was my Grandfather's blacksmith's shop, now it's a studio.
RICHARD
Well, it's picturesque, very picturesque. I would have made you an offer.
DESMOND
It's been in my family for generations.
RICHARD
I would have made it into a gatehouse and built Desmond Wood around it. Quite tasteful. You would have liked it.
DESMOND
I'd like to talk to you about Bea.
RICHARD
I'll give you a nice piece of change for that little shack. Twenty grand. I'll put it someplace else.
DESMOND
Studio.
RICHARD
Right.
DESMOND
Beatrice doesn't want to marry you.
RICHARD
No offense, but, that's between me and her.
DESMOND
She's only marrying you to save the woods.
RICHARD
(Laughs.) And you think I believe that?
DESMOND
Yes.
RICHARD
Well, Desmond old man, Bea's a smart chick. She knows she needs a sugar daddy to support her poetry and she knows I need her. You see, I need Bea. It's time I got married, had some kids, settled down. It's better for business.
DESMOND
Business? Bea could never live with you and write poetry.
RICHARD
Don't you ever get out of that studio of yours and into the world? Business is business.
DESMOND
O.K. Let's talk business.
RICHARD
I don't need any sculpture right now. I imagine we'll be getting a nice sample of your work as a wedding present.
DESMOND
I'll sell you my studio and the half acre it sits on. I've got the deed right here. I'll need a week to get out.
RICHARD
Now you're talking, Dickens. I'll show the deed to Beatrice, she'll realize there's no longer any need to keep me from building at Desmond's Wood. Twenty thousand. I'll write you a check. She's so damn sensitive. She thought the woods and you were inseparable. She said that you and the woods held each other's soul hostage or something like that. Well she was wrong, huh? Let's drink to contemporary women.
DESMOND
Yes, lets. (They drink.)
RICHARD
Your check.
DESMOND
Your deed. (Pause.) Now she won't marry you.
RICHARD
Not this again, Dickens. I've all ready explained to you...
DESMOND
You're a son of a bitch.
RICHARD
(Laughs.) Yes...yes I guess I am. I guess you can say your soul is owned by a son of a bitch.
(Desmond jumps at Richard over table.)
What! Are you crazy? Get off me you flake.
DESMOND
Stay away from Bea.
RICHARD
Who the hell do you think you are, her father? Brother...
DESMOND
No...no, I'm her lover. (To Waiter.) Lentil soup on him.
WAITER
What a violent man.
(FOOTSTEPS.) NARRATOR
That evening, a warm rain from the south moved over New England. Behind the soft neon glow of a tavern sign, in a brick bistro across from a city park, warm, wet jazz seared the atmosphere. Beatrice Pope looked at her watch between sips of brandy and cursed herself for worrying about the time. Richard was late again as was his habit.
RICHARD
Hey, Babe. It's pouring out. Why the long face?
BEA
I suppose you'll be late for our wedding.
WAITRESS
Hi, what can I get you.
BEA
Another brandy, please.
RICHARD
Cappuccino. (To Bea.) And then I'm leaving.
BEA
Oh, but I thought we were going to plan....
RICHARD
Look, I'm going to lay this right out for you.
BEA
Sounds ominous. Cold feet?
RICHARD
Something like that.
BEA
Oh? RICHARD
I had an interesting talk with your "friend" today.
BEA
Oh. What friend is that?
RICHARD
Desmond Dickens.
BEA
Oh.
WAITRESS
Cappuccino for the gentleman and brandy for the miss.
RICHARD
Thank you.
BEA
Thank you.
RICHARD
I hadn't realized just how friendly you two really were.
BEA
Quite good friends, why?
RICHARD
I'd say you were more than just friends.
BEA
Look, Richard. This conversation is going no....
RICHARD
God, I'm so naive sometimes. I thought you were concerned about this guy's inspirational woods when it's your cunt he's inspired by. (Laughs.)
BEA
Please don't be vulgar.
RICHARD
Who the hell do you think you are telling me what or what not to be? I'm going ahead with the Desmond Wood project. Your lover, well, your lover can move up in the world, up "shit creek". (Laughs.)
BEA
It's not going to be easy for you, Richard. Not while Desmond still owns the studio and the land is sits on. We'll do everything to keep you out of Desmond Wood.
RICHARD
Well, I've got you there, Bea. You see, your lover didn't think you should have to spend your life with me for his sake.....
BEA
What are you getting at?
RICHARD
This piece of legal paper.
BEA
I'm leaving....
RICHARD
It's the deed to your lover's studio and the half acre it sits
on.
BEA
No...no he couldn't have...
RICHARD
What a good knight, Sir Desmond was...
BEA
You're an S.O.B. Richard.
RICHARD
He gave up his woods so you wouldn't have to marry me. How
gallant of him to consider your talent so vital.
BEA
But you owned most of Desmond's woods anyway, over a hundred acres. Why was it so important to take his studio?
RICHARD
Yes, my dear, but I had no access onto the property until today, that is.
BEA
I don't understand.
RICHARD
I bought the woods from a logging company who bought Desmond's woods from Desmond's father. He was a smart old bird. He sold the land and leased the company the right of way. That way he made a profit and still controlled the land. The right of way is across Desmond's half acre, my half acre. (Laughs.)
BEA
You never wanted to marry me. You knew Desmond would never let me marry you.
RICHARD
I met him at an opening once. He didn't remember. He talked on and on about this wonderful young woman he knew who was a poet. Sounded like love. That was you, Bea, and business is business.
(MUSIC. BRIDGE.) (Car stops. Door opens/closes. Knock on door.)
NARRATOR
(Windshield wipers and a car motor on a rainy highway.)
The world is wet tonight with rain and tears....There's a light in Desmond's window. The drenched ferns touch Bea's leg as she runs along the familiar path in the dull yellow light.
BEA
(Frantically.) Desmond! Desmond! Open the door. It's me, Bea. I love you, Desmond. Look, we'll find another place, another world. You'll be able to work and no one....
(SHOT!)
DESMOND! (Pause) Oh, Desmond.
(Door opens.)
DESMOND
Surprise, Bea. I couldn't do it, not while I'm still painting with my....
BEA
I'm beginning to like Renoir.
NARRATOR
Beatrice Pope is a poet and nothing will keep her from writing her poems, not Desmond nor Richard, not the Redwing's song not the whoosh! of wind in the maples, not even the bulldozers ripping through Desmond's Woods and the workers breaking for lunch.
END
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