The Madness of Lady Bright

66

A beautiful party!

50

About a month. Everything's new. I painted the walls myself.

67

And I shall be queen! I dance with the most grace. I dance like a flower on the water. I dance like a flower. I shall dance with Adam, and you may dance with whom you please. No, I have no more room on my program, I am dreadfully sorry, young man ... I am dancing with only one man, you know what that means.

1

Do you know what is comforting the world on Dial-A-Prayer this abysmally hot Saturday afternoon?

38

Don't tell me where. Move away now. Now. There. Oh, so large, you egoist; it surely wasn't difficult to find it. Michael Delaney. You're Irish?

15

Down or up?

43

Bum around.

11

Exactly, I know. But they'll intellectualize and say that this is like a sunset and that -- I mean it's so phony.

59

Giselle. Giselle, you save him. You danced all night and you danced till dawn and you saved him. You did, you saved him; you danced for him. They let you save him.

49

Good. Then I'll wait.

4

How did it go?

5

How did it go?

17

I am a very nervous person and I have to have something to do with my hands and I prefer to smoke, if you don't mind! If you don't Mind!

16

I don't have to smoke, I prefer to smoke ...

9

I don't know. Somewhere. It's nice at a distance like that. Sometimes in summer it seems the only way to remain sane is by listening to -- of course, it's a mixed neighborhood. Oh, well. I get Spanish guitars and a good deal of Flamenco music as well. Of course I enjoy that too. At a distance like that.

12

I get really passionately upset by that sort of thing. Music is not like a sunrise, it's like music, isn't it? I mean, isn't it?

13

I go to these concerts only to listen to the music, not to see the white cliffs of whatever-it-is. I only... It's stopped. Why do you always hear that stupid concerto, the same one? There is no one out there who would have been playing it, is there? Is there, Autographs? What was that? What was that once more? We'll stay all night and sing 'em all! ********! Burn the place down.

20

I have studied graphology, and believe me, it is very, very bad, Quentin. You will undoubtedly give me some dreadful social disease. And you, another meek little signature. In pencil. But you were only an edge bashful, only shy. For a meek little signature, Arnold Chrysler, you weren't really bad. You were not Adam, but there was only one. You were none of you like -- anything like -- Adam. Well, Michael Delaney was wonderful indeed; but he was not Adam. You were everything. You are what I remember. Always the dreams are you. Dreams? Oh, my dear. Fantasies. Oh, you are definitely cracking. Mirror, you are -- I am sorry to report -- cracking up. I am losing my mind. I am. I am losing my ****** mind. It's this stupid apartment and the *******ed heat and no one ever being at home! Why don't you answer? You are growing old and fat and insane and senile and old. "The Lord is my" -- yes, we know all that. All of you are never, ever, ever at home. You at least had homes. You never lived in one place more than a week. Bums and vagabonds, all of you; even Adam, admit it. Tramp around the world, hustling your box from Bermuda to Bangkok! From Burma to Birmingham. How was Birmingham, Adam? What? Oh, don't lie to me, everyone has hustled his box in Birmingham. Never home. As least you can count on Dial-A-Prayer being home. You, you *****s, you tramp the street bitches. Dial-A Prayer, and weather, and the correct time and Pan American Airways travel information and TWA and American and Delta and Ozark--and the public library. You can count on--but an acquaintance? Don't count on it. There is no one outside. Well! A little action, huh? I hate beer, just a Coke, please. Yes, I know they're both fattening, you *****, I don't have to worry about that yet! Beauty isn't everything!... But then what is? Come on.

7

I know. I just said it. None whatever. You're spinning around in your stupid room like Loretta Young for Christsake. You should have a long circular skirt and... "Hello. John?" Why, how lovely.

30

I should.

46

I wish to God it would hit you about now.

18

I wouldn't touch yours....

63

I'd like to do something. No. We won't have this music. We'll have a party. We'll have a show. I'll give you a show!

23

I'll try. Oh, God.

3

I'm home, of course. Home. Oh, god! Well, face it, girl; you'll drive yourself stir if you can't find someone else to drive... Oh, to hell with you. You bore me. You bore me! You are a pile of paper addresses and memories, paper phone numbers and memories, and you mean nothing to me. You -- I am surrounded -- I am left with a -- with paper memories and addresses... I am -- how?

29

I'm losing my mind. I'm losing my mind. Oh, God, I'm losing my mind. I...

42

I've never--I'm almost embarrassed--I've never met anyone as--well, I'm never at a loss for words, believe me, I don't know what you have--anyone so good looking as you are. What do you do? Are you a weight lifter?

31

I--I should go out. That way, insanity, Leslie. That way the funny farm, Lady Bright. The men in white, Mary. And watch it, because you know you look like a ghost in white. You have never, ever, worn white well. You should never be seen in any color other than pink. Candy pink. Candy pink and white candy strips. Silk.

39

Irish. Well, it isn't romantic, is it? It's not Russian or Sicilian or one of those, but I've got nothing against the Irish. Any more. You have raised my opinion of them, I'll admit, considerably. I thought you only drank a good deal, but I find you have a capacity for other things as well. And it's just as well to add a favorite nationality, I was guessing you as Jewish; you don't mind me saying that--the dark hair, you know--but with a name like Michael Delaney you couldn't be anything else. They've turned the radio down so I can't hear it now. I tell you, Michael, it's no fun. It's not fun living here in this stupid apartment by myself listening to my few records and the neighbor's radio; I should like someone, I think sometimes, living here sometimes. Or maybe somehow not living here but coming here to see me often. Then I'd wash the walls--wash off everyone else. Wash them off and kiss them good-by--good riddance. I've even though I would mind, you know, just letting someone live here, Scot free; I could prepare the meals--and do things. I--want to do things for someone who could live here. And he could sleep here, every night. It's really lovely--or would be--with the music. I'd like something like that, it gets so lonely here by... This dumb room! Dumb! Mute! All you *******ed cobwebby corners, you stare down at me while I die of boredom; while I go insane because everyone I call is gone of somewhere. Once more. Once. Twice. Thrice. Quadrice. Screw.

24

Is it?

25

Is that all? Hell, it's over. Put another quarter in. Ha! *******. Every time, all over sweet. You crazy loon. Stupid bitch. You should get dressed up and go down to the beach, it's so damn muggy and hot they must need a little something to live up the beach about now. "There she is, Miss America..." Good morning, judge! Your Honor. Oh, dear.

8

It must be coming from someone's apartment. Some ******'s apartment. He's turned on the Bach -- no, it's Mozart. And he's preparing dinner nervously, with some simple salad and some complex beef stew. And they'll dine by candlelight and ruin their eyes. Sometimes in summer it seems the only way to remain sane is listening to the radios playing in the neighborhood. I haven't a radio myself; I discovered I was talking back to it so I kicked it out. I have only the phonograph you saw and some worn-out records.

44

Just bumming around?

21

Let's dance. What is it? What on earth? Oh, god, I couldn't do that. Zat new? Huh? Well tell me the steps anyway.

27

Loneliness.

10

Mozart has always been one of my favorites; I know, you'll say how ordinary, but Mozart and Bach, I believe they have -- oh, I don't know. It's so immature to try to analyze music.

68

My name is Giselle! I am Giselle! I'm the fairest at the ball. I am the loveliest. I am young. I am young and lovely. Yes, I am young! I am young tonight. I will never be old, I have all my faculties tonight. I am beautiful. I am happy! Excuse me, I must have...My arms are so tired. My legs. I have bad legs, I don't walk too well. The veins in my legs are getting old, I guess... I grow tired easily, I grow brittle and I break. I'm losing my mind, you know. Everyone know when they lose their mind. But I'm so lonely! I'm sorry, I just slipped and... Oh, thank you. I'm sorry--I hate to trouble you, but I--I believe I've torn my gown. I seemed to have ripped...Oh, no, it can be repaired. Yes, I'm sure it can. But would you take me home now, please? Take me home now. Take me home. Please, take me home. TAKE ME HOME, SOMEONE! TAKE ME HOME! Take me home. Take me home. Take me home. Take me home. Take me home. Take me home. Take me home...

26

No.

35

Of course not! They're autographs. No one has refused me. And I'll want yours, too, of course.

55

Oh, God, that way, honey, is madness for sure. Think about Adam and you've had it, honey. Into the white coat with the wrap-around sleeves.

65

Oh, me! God, I--would--like...We won't have a show, we'll have a royal dance, a cotillion; a nice beautiful dance.

6

Oh, to hell with it. I should go out. If nothing else in the world, I am certain that that is the wrong color for me. I -- I -- I should never wear anything other than blue. Aqua. The color of the sea. I am Venus, rising from ... and matching eye shadow. And nothing else. You. Are a ******. There is no question about it anymore -- you are definitely a ******. You're funny but you're a ******. You have been a ****** since you were four years old. Three years old. You're not built like a ****** -- necessarily. You're built like a disaster. But, whatever your dreams, there is just no possibility whatever of your ever becoming, say, a lumberjack. You know?

47

Oh.

32

Someone is playing their radio; I wonder what station plays Mozart all day long. I know you don't understand it, but I do. Your pants are on the chair.

33

Sometimes I just like to stand and listen to the music from someone's radio. I've done that a lot this summer. I live alone.

41

Twenty. And you're what? The same age about, aren't you?

14

Up or down?

22

Walk through it once.

34

Well, of course. You see the names. Did you notice the names on the wall?

56

What I should have is some music. I'm so sick of music for companionship. But it's better than you queens! Never at home sick queens! Now that's better. That's a little better. I can dance to that one. There. I like the way you...Oh, you think I follow well. I'm glad you think I follow--I have a good sense of rhythm, I've always been told that I move well. I get lonely, but I've been told I move well. I sometimes just stare the corners of my room, would you believe that, and pray And pray for...I want--I want...

52

What am I supposed to say? No. I don't mind if you do something. Anything.

64

What would you like?

51

What? A grease pencil? Sure, I used to work in the china department of this stupid store; we marked dishes with them.

53

What? What? Are you writing your name--your name? Heh, on my fresh wall? What the hell, it looks good there.

54

Where are you going? Where are you going? Not you. Don't leave now. Don't, Adam. You're not leaving. Come back here, don't do away; you were the only one I wanted. The only one I wanted. Adam! Don't go away!

57

Why do you let me live if you know it?

60

Why do you let me live if you know it? Can't you see I'm going insane alone in my room, in my hot lonely room? Can't you see I'm losing my mind? I don't want to be the way I am.

19

Why would I be ... Hmm. Oh, not good. Not good at all. All those spidery little wrinkles showing your a-g-e. Exposing yourself, aren't you? And a gray hair or two -- and your whole face just collapsing. Built like a disaster. Oh, do go away! You should be preserved somewhere. You are a very rare specimen that should be saved for posterity. Lowered into the La Brea tar pits in a time capsule as a little piece of the twentieth century that didn't quite come off. Along with an Olivetti typewriter and a can of -- cream of celery soup. Whatever you're telling me I don't want to hear it. I've heard it before from every bitchy queen alive. The old fey mare ain't what she used to be. But she's well preserved. You've got to giver her that. A line or two, but holding together. By a thread. But she can sing like a nightingale. Well, nearly. And dance like Giselle. Giselle was a little willie -- a willie is a fairy who dances in the woods. And, well, they tried to make Giselle's husband dance all night and she danced all night in his place. Didn't you, Giselle? You did. You saved his life. Now, what have I done for you? All my visitors -- all the men who have visited this stupid apartment for the last ten or so years -- what have I ever done for you? Well, let's face it, what did you ever do for me? Look at it that way. Precious little. Oh, you! Quentin! I scratched your name off over a year ago; you gave me -- what particular social disease was it you gave me? You with your neat little signature. Tight, like-a-spring-little-signature. You can always tell a man by the way he signs his name, and a tight signature is very, very bad, Quentin.

58

Why?

40

Yes. Fly me away from here. Oh, well, fly yourself, fairy; you've got the wings. All God's chil'un got wings, Leslie. That's your disastrous body: wings and ass.

37

Yes. Whenever you want to write it. There's an ink pen on the table if you haven't one.

61

You could have killed me as a child, you could have.

62

You could have.

45

You hustle, I guess, I mean--do you only hustle? I...

28

You know nothing about loneliness. I should go out. I should go out and look for you... Mich-ael De-lan-ey -- Gotcha! Good Lord -- eight years ago -- you would be how old by now? Oh well, old hustlers never die, the just start buying it back! You were very good, I remember that. And who else? So-so; fair; clumsy, but anyway; too intelligent; Larry; good; I remember; A minus, and that's very good; undersized; very nice; oversized, but I'm not complaining. Samuel Fitch! Samuel Fitch! No, I thought you were gone! You bitch! You liar! You vicious ******! You Queer! You were not a man, you were some worm. Some smelly worm. Of course, you couldn't help it, you were born a worm. Once a worm always a worm I always say. Oh. Poor Samuel. You really couldn't help it, could you? You were queer but you couldn't help it. Domineering mother, probably. What was it--that was sweet--you said. You said my body was smooth. Hairless, that's what you liked about it. You said I moved well, too, didn't you? Well, I do move well. I move exceptionally well. And I haven't a hair on my body. I'm as hairless and smooth as a newborn babe. I shave, of course, under my arms; no woman would go around with hair under her arms. It's just not done. Lately. In America anyway. And my legs--they're smooth. They are. I have--I...I have varicose veins in my legs. I can't wear hose. I have hideous, dreadful legs. I have blue, purple, black veins in my legs They give me pain--they make me limp, they ache, they're ugly. They used to be beautiful and they are bony and ugly. Old veins. Old legs, dancing legs, but the veins! They get tired. And when the get old they get tired and when they get tired they get slow and when they get slow they get stiff and when they get stiff they get brittle and when they get brittle they break and the veins break and your bones snap and your skin sags... The veins in my arms and legs--my veins are old and brittle and the arteries break--your temples explode your veins break like glass tubes--you can't walk you can't dance you can't speak; you stiffen with age. Age takes you over and buries you; it buries you under--under--my veins, my arms, my body, my heart, my old hands, my old callused hands; my ugly hands; my face is collapsing. i'm losing my mind. I'm going insane. I'm going insane!

2

You think lately perhaps you've been overly preoccupied with sex; you should turn to deeper, more solemn matters, and Dial-A-Prayer gives you: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures." God, what an image. Out in a green pasture, yet. Well, Adam, if that isn't heaven... Why didn't you maketh me to lie down in green pastures, Adam? Why didn't you just maketh me to lie down? Why didn't you maketh me? Well, who would be home? Stalwart queen, I can't believe even you would walk the street in this heat. One day you're going to melt into the sidewalk into this little puddle of greasy rouge and nylons. Ring. Ring. Ten rings, dear, that's enough for any girl. One for every finger. Cheap damn Chinese red. Junk. No one. No one is home. That's ten, sweetheart -- okay, one extra for the index finger -- eleven, that's all, sorry. So, no one is home.

48

You will?

36

Your name, your autograph.