GEORGE GARRETT  |  Garden Spot, U.S.A.

Act I, Scene 1

(The public park in Garden Spot, U.S.A. A stylized park scene. To one side stands the heroic statue of the GENERAL. There are several park benches. There is a large trash barrel labelled TRASH. There is a KEEP OFF THE GRASS sign and a DO NOT PICK FLOWERS sign. The curtain rises on a perfectly frozen scene, lifeless as a photograph. Two old men, PAT and MIKE, are bent over a checkerboard. The others are perfectly still, as if caught in an action photograph: A MAID pushing a baby carriage; a POLICEMAN passing her, his hand on the visor of his cap, as if he were just about to raise it. A young couple arm in arm. An athlete in a sweat suit, the sweatshirt bearing the stenciled label—P.E. GYM. . . . Suddenly the STRANGER appears, from behind the statue of the GENERAL. He wears black full dress, a cape, white gloves, and he carries a gold-headed cane. Briskly salutes the statue as he enters.)

STRANGER
General . . .

(He strides across the stage, invisible, of course, to the others. He looks around quickly, well pleased. Using his cane like a baton, he waves it and exits. The others instantly come to life. The sweat-suited athlete jogs by, puffing and blowing. The maid crosses. The policeman tips his hat and smiles. They take a couple of steps, turn simultaneously to look at each other. The policeman tips his hat again. The maid sticks out her tongue at him. And they are gone . . . The young couple crosses, arm in arm, talking intently in low voices . . . Under a park bench JACK is fast asleep, his bare feet protruding. He is the town bum and drunk, who holds down the vague job of keeping the park more or less clean and picked up. A young man, a TRAVELING SALESMAN, enters. He carries an attaché case. Glances at his wristwatch, checking it against the unseen Courthouse Clock . . . Then he sits down on a bench. Carefully he opens the attaché case in his lap; from it he removes his lunch—a sandwich, an apple, a thermos bottle . . . JILL WORTHY enters. She is a young pretty girl, rather primly dressed. She is the town librarian. She carries her lunch in a paper sack. The only empty bench is the one under which JACK is sleeping. Just as she starts to sit down, he stirs and snorts in his sleep and she notices him. Seeing his dirty bare feet, she gives a little wince of disgust and moves over to the bench where the YOUNG MAN is sitting. He smiles politely and makes room for her. They exchange a nod and a smile. She takes an apple out of her paper bag and is about to bite into it. He is also just about to bite into his apple. At that moment, they steal a second look at each other. They smile and move a little farther apart. Once again, they raise their apples in unison, turn to look, smile, lower their apples and open their mouths to speak . . . At precisely that instant a loud siren begins to wail, drowning out any possibility of conversation, and the Courthouse Clock begins to strike twelve times. At that, JILL and the YOUNG MAN smile and shrug. As soon as the siren begins to wail: (1) PAT and MIKE stop their checker game long enough to check the time on large gold pocket watches, nod with satisfaction to each other and bend over their checker game again. (2) JACK wakes up with a start and comes crawling out from under the park bench, looking around wildly as if it were Judgment Day. Then he stretches painfully and, scratching himself, goes straight to the trash barrel. He fumbles and rummages inside of it, coming up with: (a) a short stick with a nail in the end of it for picking up trash, (b) a burlap bag with a strap, and (c) a battered visor cap. He squares the cap in a military manner, gives a neat sober salute to nobody in particular with the stick, then assumes the classic en garde position of a fencer. Then he looks around quickly and, seeing that no one is paying any attention to him, he rummages in the trash barrel again and produces a bottle of whiskey he has hidden there. Takes a long drink and puts the bottle in his burlap sack. Suddenly JACK notices something on the unseen Courthouse. He rubs his eyes and looks again in pure amazement, then he advances on the YOUNG MAN and JILL.

JACK
Hey! You know what? The bastard didn’t move. He didn’t even budge.

YOUNG MAN
Are you speaking to me?

JACK
Who do you think I’m talking to—the General? (indicates the statue)

YOUNG MAN
I’m afraid I didn’t hear what you said.

JACK
I said: The courthouse clock struck noon with its usual dull and plonking, leaden tones. The damn old siren in the Firehouse went off like the trump of doom itself and stirred me out of a daydream of fame and riches and pure respectability. And in spite of all that godawful cacophany, that chaos of noise unleashed upon a startled universe, that old bastard up there didn’t even budge!

YOUNG MAN
Watch your language, Mr. (in a more confidential tone) There’s a lady present.

JACK
Oh—her. She knows what a bastard is.

JILL
Oh!

YOUNG MAN
Now wait a minute . . . !

JACK
If she doesn’t know what a bastard is, she ought to. She works in the library, and if she doesn’t know, she can look it up. Anyway, I was only speaking metaphorically.

YOUNG MAN
Is he annoying you, ma’am?

JACK
I am not. She’s just very sensitive.

YOUNG MAN
Lady, if he’s annoying you, you just say the word.

JILL
Thank you very much for your concern. But I am perfectly able to cope with any . . .

JACK
Cope? Cope? You can say that again. That’s one thing nobody can ever take away from you, Jill Worthy, worthy Miss Worthy, you can really cope. Look at her! Just look at her! She is a pretty near perfect example of the modern American female. You know what the trouble with the modern American woman is?

JILL
I believe you said you noticed something—unusual.

JACK
Indeed I did. Something very unusual. And if you will allow me to dispose of the problem of modern American women . . .

JILL
Nobody is the least bit interested in your theories. They’re completely juvenile and predictable. And, anyway, we have all heard them over and over and over.

YOUNG MAN
I haven’t. I’m a stranger here myself.

JACK
You’re just trying to make me look ridiculous.

JILL
That seems to be your vocation. It’s the only thing you do really well.

YOUNG MAN
What line of work are you in anyway?

JACK
Work?

YOUNG MAN
Do. What do you do?

JACK
Sir, you are speaking to the unabridged and unexpurgated conscience of this town. In spite of my, shall we say, casual appearance, I am a philosopher. I am a park bench philosopher in the grand old American tradition.

YOUNG MAN
Yeah, like Bernard Baruch.

JACK
I have heard of the gentleman’s reputation. I won’t ask you your line of work—I won’t even ask you what in the world has caused you to stop here in Garden Spot—dear old Garden Spot—the most dreary—the most godforsaken little old . . .

JILL
Jack?

JACK
Huh?

JILL
You were about to tell us something you had noticed, before you digressed.

JACK
Digression is the essence of my style.

YOUNG MAN
Oh, yeah?

JILL
May I ask what it was—or is it some kind of a big secret?

JACK
You are at liberty to ask. Although I have already explained in faultless rhetoric.

JILL
There is one little flaw—I wasn’t listening.

JACK (to the YOUNG MAN)
See? See what I mean? (to JILL, with a note of self-pity) You never pay any attention to me.

JILL
That, Jack Peterkin, is because you never speak in an organized way.

JACK
You want an outline? I will repeat, Miss Worthy, in spite of that siren, in spite of that and everything else, that bastard didn’t budge! It didn’t even ruffle his feathers. He just sat there, and he is sitting there now. Just sitting and looking . . .

JILL
Who is just sitting and looking?

(JACK glances again at the Courthouse. He shudders and produces his bottle and takes a drink.)

JACK
He is!

JILL
Where is he sitting?

JACK
Smack on top of the Courthouse Clock.

JILL
Is it anyone we know?

JACK
You never believe me—just because I am not living up to my potential. I am not pulling my oar. I am not carrying my own weight. I am not putting my nose to the wheel and my shoulder to the grindstone. In short, I am a bum. I admit it fully and openly and categorically and most emphatically without pride, dismay or hesitation. . . .

YOUNG MAN
Man! You said a mouthful.

JACK
Sir, I am not addressing these remarks to you.

YOUNG MAN (belligerent)
Oh, yeah? Well, I’m talking to you, old buddy.

JACK
In a strictly chronological sense I am not old. Nor am I, to the best of my somewhat cloudy recollection, a buddy of yours.

JILL
Jack?

JACK
Huh?

JILL
Whom did you see sitting on top of the Courthouse Clock?

JACK
I didn’t say that. I didn’t say I saw somebody.

JILL
What was it that you saw, then?

JACK
See! Let’s be accurate, please. Do see! The son of a bitch is still up there.

YOUNG MAN (laughing)
I know! A very large pink elephant!

JACK
Wrong! You have missed the mark, sir. As a matter of fact, it happens to be a bird.

JILL
What kind of a bird?

YOUNG MAN
A dodo bird! A red, white, and blue dodo bird!

JACK (to JILL)
Come up here and see for yourself.

JILL
I’m trying to finish my lunch before I have to go back to the library. But suppose you describe the bird and I’ll see if I can guess what it is.

JACK
You won’t have any trouble.

YOUNG MAN
I won’t have any trouble either. Back home I’m the acting secretary of the Early Bird Watcher’s Society.

JACK
How nice for the birds!

YOUNG MAN
Go ahead and describe the bird. Let’s see which one of us can guess it first.

JACK
Why are you so competitive?

YOUNG MAN
What’s wrong with competition?

JACK
You don’t know?

YOUNG MAN
Say, what are you—some kind of subversive or something? What are you against?

JACK (taking another drink)
At the moment? Sobriety.

YOUNG MAN
I’m trying to be serious.

JACK
Well, I’m not. I spend most of my waking hours trying my damnedest not to be serious.

JILL
Jack, will you please stop talking and simply describe the bird.

JACK
Okay . . . . . . . . . It’s a big one . . . . . . a very large bird . . .

YOUNG MAN
Is it an eagle?

JACK
No, sir! It’s a very large bird. It is a very large, very black . . .

JILL
A swan? A black swan?

JACK
A very large, very black, very ugly bird. With a big, long, skinny, naked-looking neck . . .

YOUNG MAN
No!

JACK
Yes!

JILL
That couldn’t be a swan.

YOUNG MAN
But they never roost in towns.

JACK
Look for yourself, damn it!

(Very slowly the YOUNG MAN turns around to take a good look. He reacts by quickly slumping down on the bench, loosening his tie and mopping his brow with a handkerchief.)

JACK
You want a drink?

YOUNG MAN (grabbing the bottle)
Don’t mind if I do.

JILL
Well, I give up. What is it?

YOUNG MAN
I’m afraid he was telling the truth, ma’am.

JILL
And the truth is?

YOUNG MAN
The truth is that there is a very large, very black, very ugly-looking old buzzard sitting right up there on top of the clock.

JILL
A buzzard? Are you drunk, too?

YOUNG MAN
No, ma’am, not yet. But I’m getting there.

JACK
Hey! Take it easy on that bottle.

YOUNG MAN
How long has he been up there?

JACK
Since early morning. I didn’t pay much attention at first. Frankly, there are times, especially first thing in the morning, when I don’t feel I should give full credence to the reports of my sensory apparatus.

YOUNG MAN
And when the clock struck twelve, he didn’t even move?

JACK
Nope.

YOUNG MAN
The bastard didn’t even budge?

JACK
Didn’t even budge.

JILL (to JACK)
You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

YOUNG MAN
I don’t think she believes us.

(The YOUNG MAN crosses quickly to the bench where PAT and MIKE are still playing checkers . . .)

Hey?

PAT
Yep?

YOUNG MAN
Look!

(They turn slowly to look where he is pointing)

YOUNG MAN
Do you see what I see? Do you see a bird sitting on top of the Courthouse?

PAT
Yep.

YOUNG MAN
What kind of a bird does it look like?

MIKE
Looks kinda like a buzzard to me. What do you say, Pat?

(PAT produces some glasses and puts them on for a better look.)

PAT
Yep. It’s a buzzard all right.

YOUNG MAN
Don’t you think that’s a little bit strange?

MIKE
Strange?

YOUNG MAN
Yeah, strange. Odd, unusual, curious, crazy, weird. Have either one of you ever seen a buzzard up there before?

PAT
Now that you mention it, can’t say as I have. How ’bout you, Mike?

MIKE
You know, I can’t recall ever seeing a buzzard up there either.

PAT
Well, like the fella says, there’s gotta be a first time for everything.

MIKE
Sonny, you see all kinds of unusual things nowadays.

(They return to the checker game.)

JACK
Look! There’s another one! There’s two of them now!

(The YOUNG MAN takes one more look. Takes the bottle from JACK for one last drink, grabs his attaché case and closes it.)

YOUNG MAN (giving JACK his apple)
Here, you take it. I don’t feel hungry any more. (to JILL) Pleasure to have known you, ma’am.

JACK
Where are you going?

YOUNG MAN
Home! I’m a stranger here, remember? I’m just a traveling salesman and I don’t have to stay here, thank God!

(With one last look at the birds, and a shudder, he is gone.)

(JACK sits down on the bench beside JILL. He smiles and wiggles his toes.)

JILL
Well, I hope you’re satisfied!

JACK
I didn’t do anything. Will you just go up there and see for yourself and admit for once that I’m right?

JILL (rising, carefully depositing her trash in the trash can)
I simply do not care if you are right or wrong.

JACK
Never mind about me. You do care, don’t you, if there are two—no! there’s three of them now!—three buzzards sitting up there.

JILL
If there are any up there, I don’t want to know about it. As far as I am concerned, they simply do not exist. Just like you! Goodbye!

(She exits quickly, very angry.)

JACK (hesitating, then following after her)
Wait just a big minute! (shouting) You think you can close your eyes and pretend things don’t exist?

(But she has gone. He shrugs and then exits, performing his duty as trash man.)

PAT (looking up from the checker game to the Courthouse)
How many do you count now, Mike? How many do you count up there?

MIKE
’Bout a half a dozen. Course I wouldn’t swear to it. My eyes ain’t what they used to be.

PAT
What do you make of it?

MIKE
Nothing . . . How about you?

PAT
Well, I’ll tell you the way I figure it.

MIKE
How’s that?

PAT
There’s gotta be a reason.

MIKE
Got to be a reason for everything.

PAT
The question I ask myself is what are they after? What do they want?

MIKE
You got a point there.

PAT
Those buzzards are sitting up there looking right down at . . . us . . .

MIKE
You don’t think . . . ?

PAT
Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I do think. They’re just sitting there waiting to see which one of the two of us dies first.

MIKE
What do you mean—us? If they are waiting on me, they might as well give up and go home.

PAT
That’s what you think.

MIKE
How’s that?

PAT
Remember old Happy Ferguson?

MIKE
Sure I do.

PAT
Now, he was what you’d call a healthy old man. Hale and hearty; lively, wouldn’t you say?

MIKE (cautious)
I’d say so.

PAT
He ate what he pleased and ran around doing what he felt like and everybody said he was going to live to be a hundred. Right up to the day he just fell over dead in front of the Luxuria Beauty Parlor. He stopped one minute to wink at the manicurist. Looked in the window and winked at her.

MIKE
Happy Ferguson had a way with the ladies.

PAT
And, the next thing you know, he was dead as a mackerel.

MIKE
Well, it don’t worry me. I’ll be here long after you’ve gone.

PAT
The hell you will!

MIKE
I plan to attend your funeral.

PAT
You won’t be here to attend my funeral.

MIKE
Oh, I’ll be there all right. You want to know why? Because I take care of myself. I never get excited.

PAT
Who’s excited?

MIKE
I never lose my temper!

PAT
I don’t lose my temper either!

MIKE
And I promise you, you’ll have a real first class funeral.

PAT
Your move, Mike . . .

(They bend over the checker board again.)

CURTAIN

Scene 2

The Park—Night

(A crowd gathered. They stand silently facing a small podium. All the people from Scene 1—except the TRAVELING SALESMAN—are there. Plus the BANKER, the PREACHER, and a young stranger with a pocket notebook—a NEWSPAPER MAN. Also the CHIEF OF POLICE. The PREACHER, the BANKER, and the CHIEF OF POLICE are like figures out of an animated cartoon. The PREACHER wears a black, full-length cassock and carries a large Bible. The BANKER is in striped pants, frock coat, homburg hat, and carries a brief case. The CHIEF OF POLICE is as resplendent as a Field Marshall in full dress.)

(After a moment the MAYOR enters, nodding and smiling, and mounts the small podium. He is folksy, with a broad brimmed Stetson hat, a string tie, etc.)

MAYOR
Good evening, everybody. I guess all of you know why we had to call this meeting tonight. I’m sure everybody will agree it’s just a whole lot easier to conduct this particular bit of business in the dark, so to speak . . . I think we can safely assume that they’re all sound asleep now . . . Or, even if they aren’t asleep, they probably can’t see us . . . Or, if you have to take the most pessimistic view of the situation, let’s say they aren’t asleep and they can see us—well, at least the main thing is we can’t see them. Right?

VOICES FROM THE CROWD
That’s a blessing!
Amen!
What are we going to do about it? Yeah, what are we going to do?

MAYOR
Now then, now then, everybody. Let’s try and keep our heads . . .

VOICE
With those ugly things just sitting up there?

MAYOR
Let us try to conduct ourselves in a decent, civilized manner. I hereby call this meeting to order. First things first. The first thing we have to do is agree on the facts . . . Now, the fact is that a few days ago those birds, for reasons of their own, settled down here in Garden Spot. Since then, more and more of them have shown up. I think it is safe to state that there has been a steady and continuous growth in our—buzzard population. Chief of Police, what is the latest official count?

CHIEF
Your Honor, distinguished dignitaries, ladies, and gentlemen. As of sunset, which occurred officially at 6:43 P.M. tonight, we had counted approximately 323 buzzards in the area of Garden Spot proper.

MAYOR
Where are they presently located?

CHIEF
Well, your Honor, so far they have been sticking pretty close to the center of town. What you might call the main body is at present situated up there on top of the Courthouse. There are smaller groups on top of the Bank and City Hall and the County Jail. Just before sundown, a couple of new ones flew into town and lit on the Church steeple.

PREACHER
I deny that allegation! . . . They wouldn’t dare . . . I haven’t seen any yet.

CHIEF
I’m sorry, Reverend, real sorry. But me and my men actually seen them light there.

MAYOR
Chief, have you and your men been carefully observing their activities?

CHIEF
That’s what you told us to do and we done it, your Honor.

MAYOR
Would you venture a generalization upon the nature of the activities you have observed?

CHIEF
Sir?

MAYOR
What the hell are they up to, man?

CHIEF
Oh, nothing much. Mostly, they just sit there and look at us.

MAYOR
Thank you, Chief. And now that we are all agreed on the basic facts . . .

CLUBWOMAN
Your Honor!

MAYOR
. . . we can proceed to . . .

CLUBWOMAN
Your Honor!

MAYOR
Huh?

CLUBWOMAN
I’m not.

MAYOR
What’s that?

CLUBWOMAN
I’m not agreed.

MAYOR
The chair recognizes Miss Mabel. What seems to be the problem?

CLUBWOMAN
We still have to determine what they are.

MAYOR
Why, honey, they’re just buzzards, aren’t they?

CLUBWOMAN
Not exactly . . .

VOICES
What’s that?
Not buzzards?
What are they?

MAYOR
Well now, what are they—exactly, Miss Mabel?

CLUBWOMAN
If someone will be kind enough to hold a light for me . . .

(The POLICEMAN comes forward and holds a light for her. CLUBWOMAN opens a dictionary.)

Let me quote to you directly from the dictionary. The Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, to be accurate: “Buzzard, spelled B-U-Z-Z-A-R-D, pronounced Buzz-ard. Old French Busard, French Buison (whence come the French Buse). Latin Buteo. One: Any of numerous heavy, slow-flying hawks (Buteo and other allied genera). Two: Any of various other birds of prey, especially the Turkey Buzzard. See Turkey Buzzard. Now, you will have to admit that is a very broad and general definition . . .

VOICES
Sit down!
Shut up!
Who cares?

CLUBWOMAN
If you will just allow me to . . .

MAYOR
Thank you very much, but I don’t believe that will be necessary. Time is pressing, so if you will just tell us briefly what you are driving at . . .

CLUBWOMAN
I just want it clearly established right at the outset that strictly speaking the creatures in question are not buzzards.

MAYOR
Well, if they aren’t buzzards, what the hell are they?

CLUBWOMAN
Permit me . . . Would you please hold that light for me again?

(Again the POLICEMAN holds the flashlight for her. Again she reads from the dictionary.)

The bird in question is more properly defined as follows: “Any of certain large raptorial birds of the temperate and tropical regions, allied to hawks, eagles and falcons, but having weaker claws, and the head is usually . . . uh . . . naked. They subsist chiefly on carrion.” (She slams her dictionary shut for emphasis.) Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen, the birds we are dealing with, the birds we are discussing tonight are, strictly speaking, vultures!

MIKE
I say they’re buzzards and the hell with them!

VOICES
Right!
Yeah!
That’s the ticket!
Down in front!

MAYOR
Quiet! Quiet please! Miss Mabel here has been trying to make a point. An interesting point, a valid point, a viable point. After all, we’ve gotta agree on what they are before we can get down to any concrete thinking.

MABEL
They are vultures.

MAYOR
Yes, ma’am, I’m sure. Well, whatever they are, we have to agree on what to call them.

CLUBWOMAN
Throughout the entire English-speaking world they are called vultures.

MAYOR
Miss Mabel, you are a real nice lady. And I don’t want you to think for one minute we don’t appreciate your point of view.

VOICES
Put it to a vote!
Yeah!
Let’s vote on it.

MAYOR
Do I hear a motion?

PAT
I move we vote.

MAYOR
Second?

MIKE
Second.

MAYOR
All right! All those in favor of calling the said birds in question buzzards, signify by saying aye!

VOICES
Aye!

MAYOR
Opposed?

CLUBWOMAN
No! Jill Worthy, how can you stand by and allow another woman to be voted down anonymously.

JILL
You mean unanimously.

CLUBWOMAN
That’s right—anonymously.

MAYOR
Very well, the ayes have it. Be it therefore known that hereinafter and evermore, in the precincts of Garden Spot, that said birds will be officially known as buzzards.

CLUBWOMAN
But they aren’t buzzards.

MAYOR
Now look here, Miss Mabel. This is a democratic country. Be a good loser. Now then, I take it that we are all . . .

PREACHER
Brothers and Sisters, I take this strange and sudden visitation for a Sign. A Sign of all the hidden sinfulness here in Garden Spot. Now, we all know that the wages of sin is death!

BANKER
Amen! You can say that again, Reverend. Spiritually speaking. But let me tell you, as the President of the Bank, that the only kind of wages I am worried about at the moment, is cash wages. Cold, hard cash. If the word about this ever gets around . . .

VOICE
What are we going to do about it?

JACK
Let’s all get drunk and forget about it!

PREACHER
Kneel! Kneel and pray!

MAYOR
Thank you for the suggestion, Reverend. And, believe me, we may just try a little praying if nothing else works. Meanwhile, the floor is open to suggestions.

JILL
I have a suggestion. I suggest that we ignore them. After a while, if they see that we don’t care about them one way or the other, maybe they will just fly away.

BANKER
True, Miss Worthy. Very true. But once again I would like to point out a few hard, cold pertinent facts from the world of commerce. This town stands or falls on business and trade. If we wait around and meanwhile the news gets out that we have a . . . that we have a kind of a . . .

PREACHER
Plague! A Plague upon us like the Plagues of Egypt!

BANKER
Damn it, Reverend, it ain’t reached plague proportions yet. It’s a problem.

PREACHER
It’s a plague!

BANKER
Ladies and gentlemen, let me assure you on the basis of my not inconsiderable experience in the business world, that business is inevitably going to suffer. And, if business suffers, then the whole town will suffer. Before you can say Karl Marx, Garden Spot will be a ghost town.

JACK
It would be different if it was just pigeons or something. I mean, pigeons, all they do is fly around and shit all over everything.

WOMEN
Please!

VOICES
Shut up!

JACK
What’s the matter with all you people? What have you got against pigeons?

BANKER
Act now! Strike while the iron is hot!

CLUBWOMAN
Whatever we do, let’s do it anonymously!

PREACHER
Let us all gather at the church and pray together!

MAYOR
I understand that, Reverend, but me, I always try to look at the sunny side of things if I can. We don’t have any evidence yet that these birds are against us. This might even turn out to be a friendly visit.

VOICES
Who needs them?
Who wants them?
Get those birds out of here!

MAYOR
Another thing. Please sit down. While they are here—and I want you to know I don’t feel any better about this thing than the rest of you—but, as I say, as long as they are here, maybe something good will come out of it. Who knows? They might simplify the whole problem of garbage disposal. And if it works out that way, why the next thing we might even have a tax reduction or refund or something . . .

VOICES
Hurray!

(LADY FROM SCHOOLBOARD waving papers aggressively)

LADY
Your honor! I want to register a serious complaint on behalf of the schoolboard.

MAYOR
Now wait just a minute! Before you say a word, I just want to remind you that education-wise we run a clean town. If you’re talking about the textbooks
again . . .

BANKER
We don’t allow a book of any shape, kind or color in the Bank!

PREACHER
We have completely revised the Bible. All the offensive passages have been expurgated!

CLUBWOMAN (reacting to “expurgated”)
You mean “extirpated.” Reverend, please. I am proud to report that the last meeting of The Golden Penwomen of Garden Spot we publicly burned a copy of that awful book that all the young people are reading.

MAYOR
What book is that, Mabel?

CLUBWOMAN
You know the one I mean—THE RAPTURE IN THE RYE.

LADY
I’m not complaining about books this time. I simply want to report the undeniable fact that there are already buzzards roosting on the Schoolhouse. We must not let the youth of our town suffer from P.B.E.

(Crowd reacts)

MAYOR
P.B.E?

LADY
Premature Buzzard Exposure.

CLUBWOMAN
The very least we can do for our young people is to make sure that they suffer posthumously.

BANKER
She means vicariously.

LADY
We expect action! I don’t have to remind you, do I, that there’s an election coming up one of these days?

MAYOR
No, ma’am. You don’t have to remind me. And that’s a fact.

CHIEF OF POLICE
Your honor! I think I’ve got an idea. That is, if we still want to get rid of them.

MAYOR
Of course we do. That’s the first order of business.

CHIEF
Well sir, I think maybe we could scare them out of town. I was thinking if we could get all the bells ringing at one time and all the cars horns tooting, and the radios and record players going . . . if we could shoot guns in the air and the ladies would beat on pots and pans . . . if we could fire off the old cannon in front of the Armory . . . if everybody in town will get together and make as much noise as humanly possible . . .

MAYOR
Chief, that’s a wonderful idea.

BANKER
We’ll try it.

PREACHER
Praise the Lord!

MAYOR
Yes, sir, we’ll give her a try right after this meeting. I’m glad I thought of that.

NEWSPAPER MAN
Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! One moment please!

(All turn to him, suddenly aware of a stranger in their midst.)

MAYOR
Yes, what is it?

NEWSPAPER MAN
If you don’t mind taking a word of advice from a stranger.

MAYOR
Speak up, young fella.

NEWSPAPER MAN
Well, it’s this way. From my point of view, it kind of looks like you are going at the thing ass backwards.

CLUBWOMAN
Please!

MAYOR
From your point of view? Just what is your point of view, young fella?

NEWSPAPER MAN
Well, I’m a newspaper reporter, your honor. I . . .

BANKER
A newspaper reporter? Oh my God!

VOICES
Get him!
Catch him!
Hang him!
Quick, don’t let him get away!

(Exit the REPORTER at a dead run, pursued by all except JACK and JILL. JACK has settled down at the base of the statue for a snooze. JILL, thinking herself all alone, sits down on a park bench and begins to sob)

JACK
What’s the matter with you?

JILL
Nothing.

JACK
Well, why don’t you just shut up then?

(JILL begins to cry louder than ever.)

Something has got to be the matter. (he turns to buzzards) Friends, allow me to extend my sincere apologies for the way my fellow creatures just behaved. I’m afraid they don’t understand you.

JILL
Jack, who in the world are you talking to?

JACK (confidential)
The birds.

JILL
Isn’t that typical? Here the whole town is nervous—the whole town is scared to death—everything is a complete mess—everybody is going crazy. And you decide it’s a fine time to talk to the birds.

JACK
Have you condescended to look at them yet?

JILL
They are rather hard to avoid seeing.

JACK
Have you seen them yet?

JILL
This afternoon, I just happened to glance out of the Library window. All I wanted to do was to check my watch against the Courthouse Clock . . .

JACK
And there they were. There they were!

JILL
You don’t have to act so happy about it.

JACK
I am happy. Charmed and delighted! Those birds is the best thing that’s happened around here since Miss Mary Beth Birdsong ran off with a traveling circus.

JILL
That whole episode was tragic. She ended up being shot out of a cannon every night. It made her a very nervous woman, poor thing.

JACK
They really are kind of special. They have character. Look, there’s a fine old fellow. Enormous natural dignity. There’s a pompous fool. Thinks he’s too good for the rest of them. Part eagle or something. There’s a shy one. Doesn’t know what he’s doing here. Just followed the crowd. And, look! There’s a little baby one. Kitchy, kitchy, koo . . . (to JILL) Oh, Jill, you’re really missing something.

JILL
There are a great many unpleasant things in life.

JACK
But if the Preacher says they’re a plague, and the Banker says they’re a problem, you can’t ignore them completely.

JILL
I just think people should tend to their own business.

JACK (a parody of a hardworking cleanup man)
By all means. Business before pleasure.

JILL
Just look at you!

JACK
Aside from the fact that there may be some room for minor improvement, what’s wrong with me?

JILL
You’re a disgrace, that’s all. A public disgrace! Oh, Jack, you used to have such promise.

JACK
Once upon a time, when we were all in school together, they elected me the most likely to succeed. I’m simply trying to prove how wrong they were.

JILL
You certainly have proved your point admirably.

JACK
What do you care?

JILL
I did care once, very much, and you know it. Before you threw up a good job and everything else and settled for—this!

JACK
What about you? Is it so wonderful, is it so satisfying to be a nice, respectable small town Librarian?

JILL
It’s . . . it’s enough.

JACK
Very well, now that we have disposed of our little problem, tell me, Miss Worthy, what do you make of all this other excitement?

JILL
Why should I want to make anything out of it?

JACK
Everybody else is. The Preacher says it’s a Plague. And the Banker says it’s a Problem.

JILL
They are upset. When people get upset they are not reasonable. They do and say silly things.

JACK
And you never get upset, do you?

JILL
I try not to. A disciplined life is a happy life.

JACK
Are you happy?

JILL
I am trying to be emotionally mature about . . .

(They kiss. When they break, JACK can’t resist the temptation to joke.)

JACK
Thank you, Miss Worthy, for that little demonstration of emotional maturity.

JILL (furious)
You are always making fun of me. I never want to see you again!

(NEWSPAPER MAN enters)

NEWSPAPER MAN
Nice little town you’ve got here. Yes, sir, a real nice friendly little old town.

JILL
Oh! What did they do to you?

NEWSPAPER MAN
They were going to hang me. But I managed to convince them that it’s bad publicity to lynch a newspaper man. So they just tarred and feathered me instead.

JILL
I’m so sorry. Please try to understand. Everybody is terribly upset by all this.

NEWSPAPER MAN
So am I. But I want you to know I’m going to be big about it. I am not going to be bitter.

JACK (sarcastic)
That’s the spirit!

(a bugle call offstage)

NEWSPAPER MAN
What’s that?

(a loud explosion)

JACK
The cannon!

(a gradual accumulation of noises)

NEWSPAPER MAN
Here we go!

JACK
From now on it’s going to be real simple. It’s us or the birds.

(The siren comes on. Now they have to shout to be heard.)

NEWSPAPER MAN
You know what?

JACK
What?

NEWSPAPER MAN
I’m betting on the birds.

(The noise reaches a peak)

CURTAIN

Scene 3

(The Park as before. Spaced around the stage are four principal figures—the MAYOR, the BANKER, the PREACHER, and the CLUBWOMAN. The CLUBWOMAN should be so placed that she can make a costume change. Perhaps near the statue of the GENERAL. As one speaks, the light is on him alone. Transitions from speakers are accomplished by means of lights. The rather swift moral disintegration of the community should be indicated visually by a gradual dishevelment of all four characters.)

MAYOR
Ladies and Gentlemen, I am sorry to have to report to you that the plan suggested by the Chief of Police didn’t work out too well. The Chief, in an excess of public zeal, in a desire to make a real big noise, a memorable bang so to speak, over-charged the cannon. When it went off, it went up. And unfortunately he went up with it. (solemnly, removing his hat): Now he has gone to the place where the good Chiefs of Police go. A place where, let us hope, there will be no more birds to trouble him. Rest in peace. And silence. . . . So much for the Chief of Police. Meanwhile those birds are still up there. And we are now entering into a difficult period in our lives, a time of “agonizing reappraisal” where we . . .

PREACHER
Brothers and Sisters, I stand before you this morning with a heavy heart. Our town, our pretty little town with its wide streets and shady lawns, its smiling people and contented pets, Brothers and Sisters, our town is suffering under the dark shadow of a curse. I take these birds . . . . . so naturally associated in our minds with death, decay, corruption and so forth and so on—I take them to be the outward visible sign of the curse. Brothers and Sisters, these birds have been sent here to remind us, to warn us, to awaken us. So that we may repent and be ready. And in that sense our curse may be a blessing in disguise.

BANKER
Listen, I’ll tell you what I think. Those birds have already had a serious effect on the local economy. Business is practically at a standstill. The plain, unadorned truth of the matter is people just don’t like having to come downtown and conduct their daily affairs with buzzards watching them all the time. And a man can’t do a whole lot of business in the pitch dark, at least not banking business. Some people are already packing up their stuff and taking their families and moving away. Now, you want to call them rats—rats leaving the sinking ship. But let me tell you I don’t blame them a bit, not even a little bit. If we don’t take firm, practical steps to deal with the situation, this town is going to dry up and die on the vine. I propose that a survey be run . . .

CLUBWOMAN
Before we begin the session today, I have an important announcement to make. The committee on gardens and the committee on the Better Homes Tour met in special session yesterday at Katie Eversoe’s house—and, by the way, weight-watchers, Katie served a delightful, up to date refreshment, Metrical and vanilla ice cream; she calls it “The Plump Girl’s Surprise”—anyway the two committees met and decided that under the present circumstances it would be unseemly to go ahead with our regular plans. So we are going to have to postpone the annual Magnolia Meander. I’m sure you’ll all agree that with conditions the way they are the Clubwomen of Garden Spot have more important things to do. Think of our pioneer ancestors. Now then, it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you our guest speaker for today, Professor Elwood P. Funk, PhD, the distinguished bird watcher, who will address us on the subject “Know Your Enemy—For What It’s Worth.” Professor Funk . . .

MAYOR
. . . Personally I don’t have anything against buzzards. I feel the same way about animals as I do about people. Even though animals don’t have the vote yet. (ha ha) My philosophy is I try and get along with all kinds. I always try and consider the other fellow’s point of view. Now, I’m sure there is some reason why all these birds have come here. Maybe they like it in Garden Spot. So do I. So do I! I only wish we knew what that reason was. And I wish we had some way to get our point of view over to them. If there just weren’t so damn many of them! What I mean is, we could probably assimilate a few of them into the community without any noticeable effect on the general. . . .

PREACHER
The text this morning refers to the angel of death. Notice that the angel of death is dark; he isn’t white, he isn’t tan or pink or anything else. He’s dark. Now, as we all know, dark is what night is. Dark is what hell is. But I say unto you, fear not. Look them straight in the eye. Hold up your heads and lift up your hearts. And I say take heed, lest some of you be tempted to fall down on your knees and worship them. That is idolatry. I have heard rumors that some members of this congregation . . .

BANKER
I have the information from a very reliable source. And I am convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that this strange visitation is not an accident. It is part of the vast monolithic Communist Conspiracy. They are just testing it out on us here in Garden Spot. If it works here, who knows what will happen? We may live to see the day when swarms of buzzards will be roosting on top of all the great public buildings of New York City, Chicago, Detroit, San Fransisco, Seattle, Los Angeles, Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Miami Beach and Washington, D.C.! The whole economy of the nation will come to a screeching halt. The Capitalistic System of Free Enterprise will be the laughing stock of the whole world. We must hold our ground. We must fight and win the battle here and now in Garden Spot or . . .

CLUBWOMAN (now in black, like a widow)
Girls, it has been proposed that the best thing we can do to help the situation is to make some kind of public demonstration. To show that we, the amalgamated Clubwomen of Greater Garden Spot, are solidly, one hundred percent behind the Mayor’s policy—whatever it may be. Lucy Fry has come up with what I think is a simply marvelous idea. Beginning tomorrow we will all wear black until further notice. May I suggest Ye Olde Spinning Wheel has some very nice creations in all sizes . . .

MAYOR
I don’t say we haven’t had our problems. We have called on the F.B.I.

(Enter F.B.I. AGENT wearing trenchcoat, snapbrim hat, with magnifying glass.)

F.B.I. AGENT
You got a problem here all right. The whole thing is, it’s kind of out of our jurisdiction. I mean, if you could prove that the birds came across a state line or something . . . I’d like to help you. If it would be any use, we could run a picture of a buzzard in the Post Office.

(He exits. These characters enter and exit quickly, crossing the stage.)

MAYOR
We called on the Army.

(A GENERAL enters. Comes to stage and center and salutes the audience. Comes to “Parade Rest.”)

GENERAL
Re: your request for aid and comfort, filled out on a Form 1094631-C in triplicate and passed through proper channels, has come to my attention this date at 0945 hours. Whereas, it would appear that some exercise or show of force may be necessary to alleviate your position, I am instructed that under circumstances which may possibly have socio-political complications, all action falls under the provenance of the Department of State, or Interior, or Health and Welfare, or one of those other Goddamn civilian offices. Bearing all this in mind, I have forwarded your request through channels, to the Library of Congress. P.S. Next time, try the Air Force. Birds are more like their responsibility the way I look at it.

(He comes to attention, salutes and marches off stage.)

MAYOR
We even went to the top of the intellectual heap—we called for psychiatric help.

(Enter the PSYCHIATRIST. Speaks with German accent and is a caricature of the comic psychiatrist and the absent-minded professor. He wanders in vaguely, smiling at the audience. A painful pause.)

MAYOR
Professor. Professor!

PSYCHIATRIST
Oh, yeah, that’s me! Yes, what is it?

MAYOR
Have you reached any conclusion?

PSYCHIATRIST
Conclusion?

MAYOR
About our problem.

PSYCHIATRIST
Problem? What problem?

MAYOR
The buzzards!

PSYCHIATRIST
Oh yes, the buzzards. (fumbles through papers) Buzzards, buzzards, B, B, B . . . here we are . . . (reads) “This syndrome, being based primarily on pseudo-socio—economic and anal-erotic mass and halfmass delusions, is not unknown historically though it is relatively rare in recent times. Group or mass syndromes of this nature, no doubt primarily paranoiac in origin, appear to have been commonplace during the so-called Dark Ages. According to Rabunus Marus . . .”

MAYOR
Professor!

PSYCHIATRIST (smiling)
I’ll skip the next part. It’s in Latin. “Furthermore in the remote fringes of the Fiji Islands, it is reliably reported by an early traveler that . . .”

MAYOR
PROFESSOR!

PSYCHIATRIST
You’re interrupting.

MAYOR
I’m sorry, but time is of the essence.

PSYCHIATRIST
It’s very rude to interrupt someone like that.

MAYOR
We are paying you fifty dollars an hour and all you can talk about is Fiji Islanders!

PSYCHIATRIST
You’re a sick man. You need help.

MAYOR
Then help us, Goddamn it! Tell us what we can do. Tell us what’s wrong.

PSYCHIATRIST
You want to know what’s wrong?

MAYOR
Yes.

PSYCHIATRIST
You want it straight?

MAYOR
Straight and simple, please.

PSYCHIATRIST
Well, ordinarily, my individual best judgment would be you people got a condition like bats in the belfry. But that won’t apply in this case. I mean bats is one thing and buzzards is another. The way I see it, and this is my personal prognostication right off the top of my head: you got buzzards on the courthouse! (laughs)

MAYOR
GET OUT!

(The PSYCHIATRIST runs off stage.)

I keep thinking maybe it’s all some kind of a great big practical joke. I can take a joke. Everybody knows I can take a joke as well as the next guy. But what I can’t figure out is who would want to pull one like this on me . . . ?

PREACHER (in prayer)
. . . O Dark Strangers, we beseech you to open our eyes to the meaning of your truth. Fill out hearts with your continual and brooding presence. Teach us to fly high and soar into . . .

BANKER
You know what I call it? CREEPING VULTURISM! That’s what I call it . . .

CLUBWOMAN
And I say if Lady Godiva could do it, so can we!

(She rapidly begins to undress.)

BRIEF BLACKOUT

(The Three Confidence Men and the girl in the harem costume enter quickly and look around. One is dressed as a classic BUM, with a bundle tied in a bandana on a stick. The second is dressed in a long robe and wears a turban and is accompanied by the girl in the belly-dance harem costume. The third is a TRAVELING SALESMAN with a sample case.)

BUM
Hey, this must be the place.

MAYOR
Who are you?

(The MAYOR, BANKER and PREACHER come to meet them)

BUM
We heard you got—like a problem.

ENTERTAINER
I read about it.

BANKER
In the papers?

ENTERTAINER (supercilious)
In the stars.

SALESMAN
We’re here to help you.

BUM
You’ve been going at it like all wrong.

ENTERTAINER
You can never get rid of a bunch of buzzards that way.

SALESMAN
What you need is experts, specialists.

MAYOR
Are you people buzzard-removal experts?

BUM
Man, I wouldn’t know about these guys. I mean, like we just happened to meet up the way here.

ENTERTAINER
I come to you with a wealth of experience.

SALESMAN
I run into tougher deals than this all the time . . .

PREACHER
What is it you propose to do?

BUM
If you really want to get rid of them birds.

ENTERTAINER
He means if you care enough.

SALESMAN
What they both are trying to say is that for an adequate renumeration . . .

BANKER
Fifty Thousand in cash if you can just get them to go away.

BUM
Like—uh—permanently?

ENTERTAINER
He means to say that it may be possible to get them to leave town, but we can hardly guarantee they won’t come back.

SALESMAN
Unless, maybe, you were willing to make a guarantee . . .

BANKER
Fifty Thousand in cold cash plus a regular retainer on a permanent annual buzzard removal contract.

BUM
I understand the man.

ENTERTAINER
He rather interests me.

SALESMAN
Buddy, you’ve got yourself a deal.

ENTERTAINER
We will draw for high card to see who goes first. (to PREACHER): Here, you hold the cards.

PREACHER
Ordinarily, I don’t approve of gambling. But, under the circumstances . . .

(The three men draw and the ENTERTAINER wins.)

ENTERTAINER
Ah-ha! Gentlemen, consider yourselves lucky. Your problem is practically a thing of the past.

MAYOR
What are you going to do?

ENTERTAINER
Get rid of the birds—what else?

BANKER
How?

ENTERTAINER
Easy . . . I’m a magician.

PREACHER
But magic is superstitious!

ENTERTAINER
You see how you feel after I’ve made those buzzards vanish forever.

BANKER
It’s worth a try. We’ve got nothing to lose.

ENTERTAINER
That’s right. Nothing to lose (aside)—except your shirt. Darlene, the watch, please.

(Darlene reaches in her bra and produces a large pocket watch on a chain. He takes it and holds it up by the chain.)

PREACHER
What’s she going to do?

ENTERTAINER
Nothing. She’s just decoration.

(JACK enters with his stick and trach bag. He concentrates on the girl during all of this.)

Now, gentlemen, I want you to look closely at this watch and concentrate with me. Think of the great, empty, windblown spaces of the North Pole. Now think of a lovely lake, picture it, a lovely lake as smooth as a mirror, without even the ghost of a breeze. All smooth and shining and clear like a mirror . . . Now you are looking into the mirror and nothing is reflected there. Nothing, nothing, nothing at all . . . You look up-up-up into the sky and the sky is like the lake. It is an empty, blue, cloudless sky, a sky as wide as a prairie, a sky as pure and cold as spring water, a sky all blue and filled with sunlight like the eyes of a beautiful girl in love. You see that beautiful sky. Can you see it? Do you see it now?

ALL (hypnotized)
Yes, yes, yes!

ENTERTAINER
And now if you will just walk over there and turn around and look, you will notice that all the buzzards have flown away.

MAYOR
They’re gone!

PREACHER
Praise the Lord! The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

BANKER
I’d call that pretty quick work for Fifty Thousand Bucks.

MAYOR
Wonder where they went to?

BUM
You dumb squares! (He claps his hands.) I don’t know what you’re looking at, but I see like multitudes of buzzards roosting all over the place.

ENTERTAINER
I thought you guys were my buddies.

BUM
Don’t take my word for it. Get a witness. (to JACK): Hey you! Come here! Are those buzzards still up there?

JACK (looking)
Damn right they are!

MAYOR AND BANKER
Police! Police!

ENTERTAINER (quickly)
All right, so all right! I hypnotized. So what? I can’t make those buzzards fly away. Nobody can. But at least I fixed it up so you wouldn’t have to see them any more. It’s an illusion, I’ll grant you that. So, what isn’t an illusion?

(A POLICEMAN enters and quickly collars the ENTERTAINER and the HAREM GIRL. Throughout all this, the HAREM GIRL has been exchanging shy and sly glances with JACK. When she is led away, she blows him a kiss and for the first time smiles brightly.)

ENTERTAINER (continuing under duress)
Life is an illusion, gentlemen! I ask you, wasn’t that a wonderful moment when you looked up there and there wasn’t one single buzzard on the whole horizon? Wasn’t that worth something?

POLICEMAN (shoving him)
It’s worth about ninety days in the County Jailhouse, buddy.

ENTERTAINER (waving the watch as he is pushed off stage)
Officer, officer, officer, I want you to start concentrating on wide open spaces, the prairie, the Sahara desert . . .

(They exit.)

BANKER
Well, if that’s the best kind of service you montebanks have to offer . . .

BUM
Montebanks? Sir, I’ll have you know I do not now nor have I ever depended on magic tricks and illusions. My methods are like strictly scientific.

(He opens his bandana and removes a pair of canvas wings and begins to strap them on his arms.)

Now then, what I plan to do is to fly up there and frighten them away. I mean, what would you do if you were a buzard and saw a man circling and soaring all around you? They are bound to realize that, as far as the birds are concerned, the jig is like up. No doubt they will depart at once. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to go over there where I can get like a good running start . . .

(He dogtrots off the stage.)

SALESMAN
So long, sucker!

(All are looking in the direction he has gone.)

MAYOR
Look! He’s running!

PREACHER
He’s taking off!

BANKER
He’s airborne!

MAYOR
He’s flying!

PREACHER
Praise the Lord!

BANKER (flapping his arms in sympathy)
Whoopee!

SALESMAN
Wh—oh . . . . .

ALL (in unison)
Oh . . . . . .

SALESMAN (setting down sample case, dusting off his palms)
Well, like they say, that’s show business.

MAYOR
He got off the ground, anyway.

PREACHER
Man should not aspire to rise beyond his natural place in creation.

BANKER
The son-of-a-bitch was really flying! You’ve gotta give him credit for that!

(The BUM is carried back across the stage by two white-coated Stretcher Bearers.)

BUM
Pretty good, huh? Maybe I didn’t get rid of any buzzards. But I flew. I really flew!

BANKER
Young man, I like your ambition and your energy. I think—after you—uh—recuperate—we just might be able to work out something or other. I can visualize huge rolls of tickets—two bits a head.

BUM
Thanks just the same.

BANKER
Aren’t you even interested? I mean, you’ve got a real unusual talent there.

BUM
Honest to God, that’s the first time I ever tried it. And it scared the living bejesus out of me . . .

(He is carried off by the Stretcher Bearers.)

SALESMAN
Now we get down to brass tacks.

MAYOR
Well now, I’m not so sure . . .

PREACHER
I wash my hands of the whole affair.

BANKER
What can you do?

SALESMAN (in the rapid manner and style of a pitchman or carnival barker)
All right, now, gentlemen. Tell you what I’m going to do. I’m not agoing to try and sell you no illusions or hallucinations. No, sir! I’m not in the show business. I’m a business man, a thinking business man. And the thing I’ve got to offer is an idea. A brand new idea! And, naturally, along with this brand, spanking new idea comes a little proposition. What good is an idea without a practical way of using it? An idea with a means of implementing it, a way of putting it into practice, why that idea is worth the weight of this whole town in gold and jewels and precious stones! Yes, sir! Observe . . .

(He opens the sample case and takes out and proceeds to assemble a submachine gun.)

MAYOR
Just what is your idea?

SALESMAN
Kill the bastards!

PREACHER
All of them?

SALESMAN
Suit yourself on that.

BANKER
What’s so special about that idea? We could have thought of that.

SALESMAN
Exactly. You could have but you didn’t. I did. And that, gentlemen, is precisely what distinguishes The Great Thinker from The Common Herd. Plato! Socrates! Aristotle! P.T. Barnum! Horatio Alger! Henry Ford!

MAYOR
But what would we ever do with all those dead buzzards?

SALESMAN (fast-talking pitchman again)
I’m glad you asked that question. Now, I could say to you, if I was a cynical no-account kind of fellow, I could say that’s your problem, couldn’t I? But I’m not agoing to say anything like that. No, sir! You may wonder why. Well, you won’t have to wonder long because I’m going to tell you why. You’ve got a problem here. To me it’s a challenge. What’s life without challenge? I could probably go around the countryside solving problems right and left and raking in the dough. Raking it in! I could accumulate an enormous fortune. I could mingle with Rockefellers and Vanderbilts. I could rub elbows and noses with movie stars! I could be on the cover of Time magazine. But, gentlemen, fame and glory are fleeting. A man has got to grow—tall! It’s the challenge that counts! Tell you what I’m going to do. I’m not going to kill those buzzards. I am simply going to show you how it’s done. Then you can do it all by yourselves. At your own leisure and convenience. Yes, sir! You can get it over with. You can have yourselves a real old-fashioned buzzard massacre. Or, you can knock them off one at a time. Whenever you feel like it. And, if you don’t like killing, well, look at it this way: maybe you won’t have to kill but a few. Maybe the rest of them with catch on and fly away of their own free will.

MAYOR
But what if they come back?

SALESMAN
Well, in that case, your honor, all you’ve got to do is to keep right on shooting them. Take a look at this little product I got here. This here is a really first-class buzzard exterminator. The best of modern science and modern engineering have joined together to come to grips with your problem. It’s simple. It’s effective. It does the job! And it’s easy to use. Any man, woman, or child in the community can learn to operate one of these buzzard exterminators safely and efficiently with just a little basic instruction. But, I ain’t going to talk to you about it. I’m going to prove it to you. Like it says in the Bible, a good picture is worth a hundred and fifty words. You just watch and see what happens here.

(He fires a burst)

MAYOR
Stop!

PREACHER
For Heaven’s Sake!

BANKER
You missed!

MAYOR
You hit the clock!

PREACHER
The clock!

BANKER
You destroyed the Courthouse Clock!

SALESMAN (faster than ever)
Wait! Wait, wait just a minute, gentlemen. Don’t let’s get excited! Don’t let’s lose out heads! “If you can keep your head while all about you . . .” What’s a minute or two? What is Time? Why should all men be slaves to the clock? Now then, all I did here was to fail to compensate for the windage.

(He raises the gun again and aims.)

MAYOR
Don’t let him shoot again!

PREACHER
He might hit the steeple!

BANKER
Or the bank!

MAYOR
Police! Police!

SALESMAN
Okay, okay. I’m going. I just left . . .

(He exits on a dead run. The POLICEMAN enters and pursues.)

(The three leaders of the town are thoroughly dejected.)

MAYOR
Well, what do we do now?

PREACHER
Pray.

BANKER
We might as well. We’ve tried everything else.

MAYOR
I’m thinking of forming a committee.

PREACHER
I pray for the arrival of some wise stranger . . .

(The PREACHER and the BANKER exit.)

MAYOR
The life of a public servant these days is strictly for the—pardon the expression—birds. Used to be kind of fun, just hanging around, slapping people on the back, shaking hands, kissing babies, cracking jokes and exchanging clichés with my colleagues. Freeloading, figuring out ways to spend tax money. Figuring out new ways to raise taxes. It beat working for a living. But now! Sometimes I think I’m losing my mind. I have bad dreams . . . Sometimes I even see things . . .

(at the four corners in a dreamlike illumination, four young ladies: a BEATNIK, an EXOTIC DANCER, a GIRL IN A BIKINI WITH A GLOWING SUNTAN, and a WITCH):

BEATNIK
Daddy-O?

MAYOR
Do I know you from somewhere?

BEATNIK
Why don’t you just let everything go and grow a beard, baby?

EXOTIC
Hello, doll. Remember me?

MAYOR
Oh no! Dreama the Denver Bombshell.

EXOTIC
I knew you wouldn’t forget. The State Fair of 1948.

MAYOR
Listen, Dreama, you gotta be reasonable. I’ve got a wife and three kids. I have to uphold the standards of public morality. More or less. . . .

BIKINI (French accent)
Come weeth me to ze Riviera, where ze sun she is always shining and ze wine if magnifique.

WITCH
Did somebody mention bad dreams?

MAYOR
Are you what I think you are?

WITCH
That depends on what you are thinking, darling.

MAYOR
What do you all want?

WITCH
Nothing much . . . a thing of no importance . . . only your immortal soul.

BEATNIK
Come with me and be my dad
And we shall share a grubby pad . . .

BIKINI
Let us develop a suntan together. Brigit Bardot, Francoise Sagan . . .

WITCH
Nothing much . . . just your immortal soul.

BEATNIK
Come live with me and be my dad
And we shall share a grubby pad . . .

EXOTIC
Remember . . . Remember . . .

WITCH
I think I shall turn you into a toad . . .

BEATNIK
Come with me . . .

EXOTIC
I saw him first . . .

WITCH
He’s all mine . . .

MAYOR
No! No! No!

(Lights out on girls. MAYOR left dazed. POLICEMAN enters.)

POLICEMAN
Your honor! Your honor!

MAYOR
What is it?

POLICEMAN
It’s the ladies, your honor, the Clubwomen . . .

MAYOR
Don’t just stand there. What are they up to?

POLICEMAN
Marching. They’re marching on the Courthouse.

(drums are heard)

MAYOR
Well I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it. It’s a free country, isn’t it? (becoming Senatorian): The right of free assembly is a Constitutional guarantee, set down in ineffaceable language.

POLICEMAN (softly)
In the nude?

MAYOR
. . . and procured for us and future generations for our Founding . . . What did you say?

POLICEMAN
The ladies are marching on the Courthouse without no clothes on.

MAYOR
Nekkid?

POLICEMAN
Buck naked, your Honor.

(The sound of women singing “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” grows louder.)

MAYOR
Oh my God! Call out the Fire Department! Call out the National Guard! Call out . . . ! (a slow grin) On second thought, the hell with it. Let’s just wait and see what happens next!

(“Battle Hymn of the Republic,” sung by the ladies, gets louder and louder . . . )

CURTAIN  

   Contributor’s notes
   Act Two