The Milk Train Doesn't Stop Here Anymore Read online

lacerations]: Come va ? Meglior ?

  chris: Si, meglior, grazie. Do you understand English? giulio: Yes, English.

  chris: Good. Would you please tell Mrs Goforth that Mr Christopher Flanders is here to see her, and - Oh, give her this book, there's a letter in it, and - ask her if I may see her, don't - don't mention the dogs, just say I - I want very much to see her, if she's willing to see me....

  [During this exchange on the forestage, mrs goforth has picked up the pair of binoculars. giulio knocks at the screen that represents the door between

  the terrace and the library.] mrs goforth: Come in, come in, avante!

  [The boy enters, excitedly.] giulio: Man bring this up road.

  MRS goforth [Gingerly accepting the book in her hand]: Young man that dogs bite bring this - [Squints at book.] - poems! -to me? giulio: This, this, brings! Up mountains!

  [She turns the book and squints at a photograph of the author,.] MRS goforth: - Man resemble this photo?

  [blac kie is still quietly weeping at the desk.] giulio: Non capito. mrs goforth: Man! - Uomo! - resemble, look like - this

  photo! giulio: Yes, this man. This man that dogs bite on mountain.

  [Points out excitedly toward the young man on the bench.] mrs goforth: Well, go back out - va fuori e dica - Blackie! Tell him to go back out there and say that I am very upset

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  over the accident with the dogs but that I would like to know why he came here without invitation and that I am not responsible for anybody that comes here without invitation! blackie [strongly, rising]: No, I will not. I will not give a man

  nearly killed by dogs such an inhuman message. mrs goforth: He hasn't been seriously hurt, he's standing up now. Listen, he's shouting my name.

  [The young man has called 'mrs goforth?' in a hoarse, panting voice. His shirt and one leg of his lederhosen have been nearly stripped off him.

  He has the opposite appearance to that which is ordinarily encountered in poets as they are popularly imagined. His appearance is rough and weathered: his eyes wild, haggard: He has the look of a powerful, battered but still undefeated, fighter.] chris: MRS GOFORTH.' [The call is almost imperious.] [A wave crashes under the mountain: chris closes his eyes: opens them: crosses to the lounge chair on the terrace and throws himself down in it, dropping a large canvas sack on the terrace tiles. The excited, distant barking of the dogs has now died out. Female voices are still heard exclaiming at a distance, in Italian^] mrs goforth [looking again through her binoculars]: Pull yourself together. The continent has been over-run by beatniks lately. I've been besieged by them, Blackie. Writers that don't write, painters that don't paint. A bunch of freeloaders, Blackie. They come over here on a Yugoslavian freighter with about a hundred dollars in travellers' cheques and the summer addresses of everybody they think they can free-load on. That's why I'm not so sympathetic about them. Look, I made it, I got it because I made it, but they'll never work for a living as long as there is a name on their sucker-list, Blackie. Now cut the hysterics out, now, and go out there and -blackie:- What?

  mrs goforth: Interrogate him for me! blackie: Interrogate? A badly injured young man? Mrs goforth: Trespasser! Get that straight in case he tries to sue me. [She continues inspecting him through the binoculars.] Hmm, he's not bad looking in a wild sort of way, but I'm

  I48 THE MILK TRAIN DOESN'T STOP HERE ANYMORE

  afraid he's a beatnik, he has a beard and looks like he hadn't -seen water for bathing purposes in a couple of weeks. blac kie: You would, too, if a pack of wild dogs had attacked you.

  mrs goforth: Watch-dogs, lupos, defending private property: get that straight. He has on lederhosen. Hmm. - The first time I saw Alex, in the Bavarian Alps, he had on lederbosen and the right legs for 'em, too. And it's odd, it's a coincidence that I was dictating some recollections of Alex, who was a poet, when this young - trespasser - got here. Now if the sweat and - the filthy appearance just come from the dogs' attack on him, I mean from meeting the dogs, you can tell by the smell of him while you're talking to him. blackie: You want me to go out and smell him? I'm not a

  dog, Mrs Goforth.

  mrs goforth: You don't have to be a dog to smell a beatnik. Sometimes they smell to high heaven because not washing is almost a religion with 'em, why, last summer one of those ones you see in Life and Look, came up here. I had to talk to him with a handkerchief held to my nose: it was a short conversation and the last one between us. [chris staggers up from the lounge-chair and shouts 'MRS GOFORTH'.]

  mrs goforth: - What impudence, going on shouting at me like that !

  blackie: I think the least you could do is go out there yourself and show some decent concern over the dogs' attack on him.

  mrs goforth: I'm not going to see him till I've checked with my lawyers about my liability, if any. So be a good scout, a nice Brownie den-mother, and go out there and -

  blackie: Interrogate him?

  mrs goforth: Ask him politely what he wants here, why he came to see me without invitation, and if you get the right answers, put him in the pink villino. And I'll see him later, after my siesta. He might be OK for a while, and I could use some male companionship up here since all I've got is you and Generalissimo Rudy for company this summer. I do need male company, Blackie, that's what I need to be me,

  SCENE ONE

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  the old Sissy Goforth, high, low, jack and the game! blac kie: I'll go see if he's seriously hurt. [She crosses out, to the terrace, and approaches Chris limping about the forestage. To chris.] How are you, are you all right, now? chris: Not all right: but better. Could I see Mrs Goforth? blackie: Not yet, not right now, but she told me to put you in the little pink guest house, if you can - walk a little. It's a little way down the mountain. chris: - Well, thank God, and - [Tries to lift his sack and

  stumbles under its weight.] - Mrs Goforth, of course... blackie [calling]: GIULIO! VIENE QUII

  [giulio comes on to the terrace.] blackie:- Porta questo sacco al villino rosa. giulio [lifting sack]: Pesante! - Dio ... blackie: Tu sei pesante, nella testa! [Then to chris.]- You can bathe and rest till Mrs Goforth feels better and is ready to see you. Chris: Oh. - Thanks. ...

  [He follows her off the terrace. The stage assistants fold and remove the screen masking a bed upstage. The bed is small but rococo, and all pink.

  The stage assistants return downstage with the screen and wait near mrs goforth, who is still watching the terrace scene through her binoculars.]

  mrs goforth [to herself]: Ah, God ... [Raises a hand unconsciously to a pain in her chest.]

  [The stage assistants unfold the screen before her, as the library area is dimmed out.]

  SCENE TWO

  The area representing the pink villino is lighted: the light is warm gold afternoon light and striated as if coming through half-open shutters.

  A. cupid is lowered over the bed by a wire: there are smaller cupids on the four posts of the bed.

  blackie, chris, and giulio enter the narrow lighted area, the young poet limping, giulio bears the canvas sack with difficulty, muttering 'Pesante!'

  blackie: Here you are, this is it. Now! chris: What?

  blackie: How are your legs? Mrs Goforth keeps a doctor on the place, a resident physician, and I think he ought to come here and do a proper job on those dog-bites. chris: They're not that bad, really. blackie: Have you had shots? chris: Shots? blackie: For tetanus? chris: - Yes, yes, sometime or other. I'm actually just -

  tired out.

  blackie: Giulio, see if the water's running in the bathroom. I'm sure you want to bathe before you rest, Mr Flanders. Oh, oh, no covers on the bed. chris: Don't bother about covers on it. blackie:I think, I have an idea, you're going to sleep a good while and you might as well sleep comfortably. Giulio. Covers for bed. giulio: Dove? blackie: Cerca nell' armadio del bagno.

  [ gIULIO exists, chris sits down on the foot of the narrow bed: his head falls forward.] Mr Flanders!

  [He pulls himself up.
]

  Please try to stay awake till the bed's made up and you've bathed.

  SCENE TWO I5I

  chris: Your name is - ? [He rises, unsteadily.] blackie: Frances Black, called Blackie. chris: How do you do. Mine's Flanders, Christopher Flanders.

  [giulio enters.] giulio: Non c'e acqua. blackie: Well, tell your papa to turn the water on.

  [giulio tosses some pink silk sheets on the bed and runs back out.] I hope you don't mind camphor, the smell of camphor.

  [He shakes his head slightly, holding on to a bedpost.] The water ought to be running in a minute.

  chris: I hope there's a shower, a tub wouldn't be safe for me.

  I don't think even drowning would wake me up. blackie: I'll wait here till you've bathed. chris: It's wonderful here after - yesterday in - Naples.... blackie: Would you please get on the other side of the bed and help me spread these sheets ?

  [He staggers around the bed: They make it up.] chris: You -blackie: What? chris: I wondered if you're related to Mrs Goforth or if

  you're -

  blackie: Not related. I'm working for Mrs Goforth: secretarial work: She's writing a sort of- all right, you can sit down, now - she's writing her memoirs and I'm helping her with it, the little, as best I - can....

  [He sinks back on to the bed and drops his head in his hands.] Mr Flanders, the water's turned on, now. Chris [staggering up]: Oh. Good. Thank you. This way?

  [Starts off.] blackie: I'll fill the tub for you. Do you want warm or cold

  water, or -

  chris: Cold, please. Let me do it.

  blackie: No, just stay on your feet till it's ready for you. [She crosses off: sound of running water.]

  [He sits exhaustedly on the bed: sways: his forehead strikes newel-post which is topped by a cupid: the room is full of painted and carved cupids.

  152 THE MILE TRAIN DOESN'T STOP HERE ANYMORE

  He looks up at the cupid on the post, shakes his head with a sad, wry grimace and drops his head in his hands and slumps over again, blackie returns from the bathroom with a towel-robe. She claps her hands.] blackie: I told you to stay on your feet. chris [struggling up]: Sorry. What is - I almost said 'Where

  am I?'

  blackie: Here's a towel-robe for you, you'd better just duck in and out.

  [He crosses to door.] chris [looking back at her from threshold]: Is this called the

  Cupid Room? blackie: I don't know if it's called that but it should be.

  [He starts to enter but remains on threshold.] chris: What a remarkable bath-tub, it's almost the size of

  deck-pool on a steamship. blackie [dryly]: Yes, Mrs Goforth thinks a bath-tub should

  be built for at least two people. chris [entering]: She must have been to Japan. blackie: Yes. She probably owns it.

  [chris enters the bathroom: a splash, a loud gasp.] blackie: Oh, I should have warned you, it's mountain

  spring water. chris: Does it come from a glacier?

  [blackie picks up the cords of his rucksack to drag it away from the bedside. She finds it startlingly heavy.

  She kneels beside it to loosen the draw-strings, draws out a silvery section of some metal-work.

  Rises guiltily as chris reappears in the towel-robe.] blackie: You're - shivering. chris: For exercise; shivering's good exercise. blackie: I don't think you need any more exercise for a while. - How did you get this sack of yours up the mountain?

  chris: Carried it - from Genoa. blackie: I could hardly drag it away from the bed. chris: Yes, it's heavy with metal, I work in metal, now, I construct mobiles, but it's not the mobiles that are heavy, it's the metalsmith tools.

  SCENE TWO

  153

  blackie: You, uh - sell - mobiles, do you?

  chris: No, mostly give 'em away. Of course I -

  blackie: - What?

  chris: Some things aren't made to be sold, oh, you sell them,

  but they're not made for that, not for selling, they're made

  for-

  blackie: Making them? chris: Is there something bu2zing in the room or is the buzz

  in my head? Oh, a wasp, it'll fly back out the shutters, is this

  a cigarette box ? [Opens box on small bedside table.] Empty. blackie: - Have a Nazionale. [Offers him the pack.] chris: Thank you. blackie: I'll leave the pack here, I have more in my room. -

  Your hair's not dry, it's still wet. [He shakes his head like a spaniel.]

  Dry it with the towel and get right into bed, I have to get

  back to work now. I work here, I do secretarial work and I -chris: Don't go right away. blackie: You need to rest, right away. chris: The ice water woke me up. blackie: Just temporarily, maybe. chris: I'll rest much better if I know a bit more, such as -

  Did Mrs Goforth remember who I was ? blackie: I don't know about that but she liked your looks,

  if that's any comfort to you. chris: I didn't see her. She saw me?

  blackie: She inspected you through a pair of military field-glasses before she had me take you to the pink villa with the

  - king-size bath-tub, the pink silk sheets and the cupids. chris: Do they, uh - signify something? blackie: Everything signifies something. I'll - I'll shut the

  shutters and you get into bed. [Turns away from him.] chris [sitting on the bed]: What is the programme for me when

  I wakeup? blackie [her back still toward him]: Don't you make out your

  own programmes ? chris: Not when I'm visiting people. I try to adapt myself as

  well as I can to their programmes, when I'm - visiting

  people.

  THE MILK TRAIN DOESN'T STOP HERE ANYMORE

  blackie: Is that much of the time? chris: Yes, that's - most of the time. ... blac kie: Well, I think you're in for a while, if you play your cards right. You do want to be in, don't you? After hauling that sack all the way from Genoa and up this mountain to Mrs Goforth? Or have the pink silk sheets and the cupids scared you, worse than the dogs you ran into? chris; You have a sharp tongue, Blackie. blac kie: I'm sorry but I was mistaken when I thought I had strong nerves. They're finished for today if not for the season, for - years.... [She starts away.] chris: Have a cigarette with me. [He extends the pack to her.] blac kie: You want to get some more information from me? chris: I'd sleep better if I knew a bit more. blackie: I wouldn't be too sure of that. chris: I've heard, I've been told, that Mrs Goforth hasn't been well lately.

  [blackie laughs as if startled.] chris: She's lucky to have you with her. blackie: - Why?

  chris: I can see you're - sympathetic and understanding about Mrs Goforth's - condition, but - not sentimental about it. - Aren't I right about that?

  blackie: I'm not understanding about it and I'm afraid I've

  stopped being sympathetic. Mrs Goforth is a dying monster.

  [Rises.] Sorry: I'm talking too much!

  chris: No, not enough. Go on.

  blackie: Why do you want to hear it?

  chris: I've climbed a mountain and fought off a wolf-pack

  to see her.

  blackie: - Why?

  chris: Nowhere else to go, now.

  blackie: Well, that's an honest admission.

  chris: Let's stick to honest admissions.

  blackie [sitting back down by the bed]: All right. I'll give you

  something to sleep on. You'll probably wish I hadn't but

  here it is. She eats nothing but pills: around the clock. And

  at night she has nightmares in spite of morphine injections.

  I rarely sleep a night through without an electric buzzer by

  SCENE TWO I55

  my bed waking me up. I tried ignoring the buzzer, but found out that if I did she'd come stumbling out of her bedroom, on to the terrace, raving into a microphone that's connected to a tape-recorder, stumbling about and raving her-

  chris: Raving?

  blackie: Yes, her demented memoirs, her memories of her career a
s a great international beauty which she thinks she still is. I'm here, employed here, to - take down and type up these -

  chris: Memories?

  blackie: - That's enough for you now. Don't you think so?

  chris: She doesn't know she's - ?

  blackie: Dying? Oh no! Won't face it! Apparently never thought that her - legendary - existence � could go on less than forever! Insists she's only suffering from neuralgia, neuritis, allergies and bursitis! Well? Can you still sleep? After this - bed-time story?

  chris: - Blackie, I've had a good bit of experience with old dying ladies, scared to death of dying, ladies with lives like Mrs Goforth's behind them, which they won't think are over, and I've discovered it's possible to give them, at least to offer them, something closer to what they need than what they think they still want. Yes. ... Would you please throw me the strings of my sack, Blackie?

  [She tosses the strings to the bedside: He hauls the rucksack over, leans out of the bed to open it: removes a mobile.]

  - Give her this for me, Blackie. It took me six months to make it. It has a name, a title, it's called 'The Earth Is a Wheel in a Great Big Gambling Casino'.

  [The harmonium player, in his dim upstage light, starts playing softly.]

  blackie: - 'The Earth Is - '?

  chris: 'A Wheel in a Great Big Gambling Casino'. I made it on hinges, it has to be unfolded before it's hung up. I think you'd better hang it up before you show it to her, if you don't mind, and in a place where it will turn in the wind, so it will make a - more impressive - impression....

  - And this is for you, this book ? [He hands a book to her.]

  156 THE MILK TRAIN DOESN'T STOP HERE ANYMORE

  blackie: Poems?

  chris: It's a verse-adaptation I made of the writings of a Swami, a great Hindu teacher, my - teacher. Oh. One thing more. I'd like to make a phone-call to a friend, an invalid lady, in Sicily - Taormina a mountain above Taormina. - Would Mrs Goforth object if I - ? blackie: Not if she doesn't know. What's the number? [He gives her the number. She makes the call in Italian and is told that it will not go through for some time.] - There'll be a delay: is it very important? chris: Yes, it is: she's dying. - Blackie? You're the kindest

  person I've met in a long, long time.... blackie [drawing a sheet over him]: This sort of thing is just

  automatic in women.

  chris: Only in some of them, Blackie. [His eyes fall shut] blackie: You're falling asleep. chris: - Yes, automatic - like kindness in some women ...

  [He drops his cigarette and she picks it up and crosses to the phone.] blackie [into phone]: Mariella? Bring a tray of food up to the pink villa: Better make it cold things: the guest's asleep and won't wake up for hours. [She hangs up, looks at chris and exits with book.]

  [Light dims on this area and a spot of light immediately hits mrs goforth on terrace.

  The stage assistants have set a screen before this area and light is brought up on theforestage which represents the terrace of the white villa. The stage assistants remove a wide screen and we see mrs goforth with two servants, giulio and simonetta. mrs goforth is preparing to take a sun-bath on the terrace. Her appearance is bizarre. She has on a silk robe covered with the signs of the zodiac, and harlequin sunglasses with purple lenses.]