(The show opens with each of the Twelve Players saying his or her own name.) Jack Moyles Lurene Tuttle Edmund Macdonald Cathy Lewis Jay Novello Bea Benaderet Mary Jane Croft Hal March John Lake John Brown Herbert Rawlinson ANNCR: Ladies and Gentlemen, Columbia presents "Twelve Players". A dozen of Hollywood’s outstanding radio artists, who formed this organization to bring you, under the direction of Ray Buffam, the unusual in radio entertainment. Tonight, “Twelve Players” present... MUSIC: FANFARE ... ESTABLISH, THEN HOLD FOR: ANNCR: "Checkerboard"! MUSIC: CONTINUES, THEN TURNS INTO QUIET INTRO TO THE PLAY, CONTINUING UNDER: ANNCR: 'Tis all a checkerboard of nights and days, Where Destiny, with men for pieces, plays. Hither and thither, moves and mates and slaves, And, one by one, back in the closet lays. MUSIC: SWELLS, THEN QUICKLY "TIPTOES" OUT TONY: I think it'd be good if we had three children. MARGIE: Why three? TONY: Ehh, it's a good number. Oh, mind you, I don't think we should have three all at the same time. MARGIE: (CHUCKLING) Oh, I should hope not! TONY: Although, three at the same time would be very nice. The Nestor Triplets. You know, you never have to buy anything for them when you-- when you have three at the same time. Makes you famous. MARGIE: Oh, you're thinking of four. Or five or six, not three. TONY: Gimme a kiss, this minute. MARGIE: (GENTLE LAUGH) Here. (THEY KISS) TONY: Mmmm. (THEY SIGH CONTENTENDLY) TONY: What were you saying? MARGIE: Um. You were saying. TONY: Oh, yeah. Uh, play the record, huh? MARGIE: Oh, you've got your shoes on. You play the record. TONY: Oh, they're not laced. They'll fall right off. MARGIE: (CHUCKLING) Oh, Tony. (STRETCHING) All right, I'll play the record. TONY: You are indeed a wonderful and rare person. MARGIE: Why am I always so wonderful and rare when I'm doing something for you? TONY: My very medium-priced wristwatch says I haven't been kissed in about...eight seconds. MARGIE: You know, lipstick is gonna sell like crazy in the postwar market, if all returned servicemen act the way you do. TONY: (CHUCKLES) MARGIE: Hey, what happened to the record? TONY: Oh, yeah. The record. Well, where do you hide it? MARGIE: I haven't moved a thing since you left. TONY: (GETS UP) Okay. I'll play the record. SFX: WALKS TO RECORD PLAYER, UNDER TONY: (SLIGHTLY OFF) I haven't heard the record since my furlough. MARGIE: I've played it a few times. (PAUSE. SOFTLY) I stopped playing it. TONY: 'Fraid it'd wear out? MARGIE: Uh-huh. TONY: Ah, you look so beautiful there. But do you, um... MARGIE: Do I what, darling? TONY: D'you feel more comfortable with your hair piled up that way? MARGIE: Why, darling? TONY: Oh, I liked it when it was...sorta soft and...around your face. MARGIE: I'll take it down, then. (STARTS DOING SO) SFX: HE TURNS ON RECORD PLAYER ... STARTS PLAYING RECORD MUSIC: "YESTERDAYS", UNDER SFX: HE WALKS BACK TO HER TONY: You don't-- you don't mind letting it down? MARGIE: Of course not. TONY: Such beautiful hair... You're tawny. MARGIE: Well, I don't know whether I like that or not. TONY: You should like it. You're brown, and your hair glows, and... your lips are soft. (KISSES HER) MARGIE: Tony...how can I take my hair down? TONY: Ah. I'm sorry. Mmm, you smell wonderful. MARGIE: That's the perfume you sent me from Paris. TONY: Hey. I played the record. (THEY CHUCKLE) MARGIE: You're really awfully good to me. TONY: Not nearly good enough. MARGIE: (PLAYFUL) Oh, well, naturally not. A girl as wonderful as I am should have the best treatment. The most expensive clothes... TONY: You'll get 'em, Margie. Soon as I get my old job back, I'll get you all those things. MARGIE: Oh, I'm teasing, darling. You're so good, though. You'd go right out and do it, wouldn't you? TONY: (PAUSE) Sometimes, I wish I knew how to talk. So I could tell you how much I love you, and... how lonesome I was, away from you. MARGIE: I was lonesome too. I didn't play the record because it... made me cry. Three years, Tony, it... Three years is such a long time! TONY: Were you...ever sorry we got married before I went in? MARGIE: Oh, no, darling. I would have died if we hadn't. I had the house and our things, and... I used to chase the moths out of your clothes every week, so... I could be near you. TONY: Would you believe it? I had your picture in my wallet, and another picture in a little case... but I never seemed to see you the way you were in the pictures. I mean, I... I'd look at the picture, but I see you differently each time. I... I remember once, in Africa, we were marching in the sun... I was awfully hot... all o' that equipment gets awful heavy. Suddenly, I got weak as the devil. I was afraid I was gonna fall, right there in the dust. Cause I... Suddenly, I thought I could feel your cheek against my face. And your arms pressing against my side. MARGIE: Let's not talk about the way it was, darling. Let's just listen. MUSIC: CONTINUES PLAYING FOR 6 SECONDS, THEN CONTINUES UNDER MARGIE: Oh, Tony! TONY: Yes, sweetheart? MARGIE: Give me a kiss? TONY: (WARMLY) Oh, sure, honey. (THEY KISS) MARGIE: Thank you. (PAUSE) Hey. Let's eat dinner, and go to an early movie, huh? MUSIC: SONG FADES OUT, AS RECORD ENDS, AT (X) TONY: Good! (X) You fix it up in the kitchen, and I'll turn off the sprinklers out front. MARGIE: All right, darling. SFX: SHE STARTS WALKING TO KITCHEN, UNDER TONY: (SLIGHTLY OFF) And I'm VERY hungry. MARGIE: Oh, I'll fatten you up! You'll be a regular butterball before you know it. SFX: TONY TAKES RECORD OFF RECORD PLAYER ... PUTS IT AWAY, UNDER TONY: (SLIGHTLY OFF, APPROACHING) Oh, I just wanna be able to get in my civilian clothes and not have 'em too big for me. I'm so tired of being "fit"! MARGIE: (SLIGHTLY OFF) I give you my solemn word, you can eat all you want, for the rest of your life! TONY: (CHUCKLING) Think I'll make you write that down. SFX: WALKS TO DOOR ... OPENS IT ... WALKS OUTSIDE ... CLOSES DOOR SFX: LAWN SPRINKLER, SLIGHTLY OFF, UNDER MAXIE: (APPROACHES, SINGING SLIGHTLY TIPSILY TO HIMSELF) If a man offers, blink your eye... (HE STOPS WHEN HE GETS TO TONY.) SFX: SPRINKLER OUT MAXIE: Good evening, Soldier. TONY: Hello there, Maxie! Nice evening. MAXIE: Yeah. Yeah, I suppose so. A man gets so tired, workin' for the War Effort, he-- he doesn't have the opportunity to notice the evening. You follow me? TONY: (KNOWS MAXIE IS LYING) Yeah... I hadn't thought o' that. (BEAT) Uh, you'll excuse me. SFX: HURRIES TO HOUSE, UNDER TONY: (FADING) Dinner's on the table. MAXIE: Yeah. (LAUGHS DIRTILY, TO HIMSELF) Yeah, I'd hurry in the house too, if I had a wife who was as cute a little wife as your little wife. I'nt that so? (LAUGHS TO HIMSELF, THEN SINGING TO HIMSELF) I suppose so... SFX: HE WALKS UNSTEADILY HOMEWARD, UNDER MAXIE: (SINGING TO HIMSELF, TIPSILY) I suppose so... I always, always, pick a little... (SINGING LOUDLY) Suppo-o-o-o-ose... SFX: HE OPENS FRONT DOOR ... WALKS IN WIFE: (SLIGHTLY OFF) Maxie? MAXIE: (INSTANTLY SILENT) WIFE: Maxie? MAXIE: (GRIM) There's nobody else who'd walk into this fleatrap. SFX: WIFE HURRIES TO HIM WIFE: (RELIEVED) Maxie, where have you been? I've been worried about you. MAXIE: (MIMICKING) I've been worried about you, Maxie. Where have you been, Maxie? Why don't you call me, Maxie? WIFE: Maxie, please, not so loud. MAXIE: (LOUDLY) What? Not so loud! WIFE: Please, Maxie, the neighbours. SFX: HE SLAMS DOOR VICIOUSLY ON THE WORD "SPEECH" MAXIE: (LOUDLY) What'sa matter with the neighbours? We have some very fine neighbours in the neighbourhood. You-- you just don't particularly care for my manner of SPEECH! WIFE: No, Maxie, really, it's not that. MAXIE: You don't particularly care for my manner o' speech. WIFE: (DEEP BREATH) Please, wouldn't you like something to eat? MAXIE: You don't particularly care. (NO REPLY) Huh? WIFE: Eat, Maxie. Wouldn't you like something to eat? MAXIE: (GRUNTS) Mmm. WIFE: I'll make you some eggs and coffee. MAXIE: I haven't had any food since five days ago tomorrow. I probably won't have any more food until five days ago next Friday! Do I make myself clear? WIFE: Maxie, why did you go away? MAXIE: (MUTTERS TO HIMSELF) WIFE: The man called again about the house payment. He's called several times. MAXIE: It's the responsibility of every good citizen to see that she or he is kept up on the world, which is a holocaust. WIFE: Then why did you go away? (NO RESPONSE) Why do you do this to me? MAXIE: (VENOMOUS) Because you're stupid and dull. SHUT UP! WIFE: (WHISPERING SOOTHINGLY) Oh, Maxie... I just meant I didn't know what to say on the phone when they asked me. It makes me so ashamed. They call-- MAXIE: I can't hear you! Why don't ya speak up? In the entire five years of our marriage, you've never spoke up once! WIFE: Six years, Maxie, six years. MAXIE: Weeeell... That's very nice of you, Mrs. Calendar-Watcher, to correct me when perchance my tongue slips a little bit. I'm indeed a fortunate man to be married to a woman as clever as you! WIFE: Maxie, stop it! Please. Won't you have something to eat? MAXIE: I told you before, I would NOT like something to eat. I would like something to DRINK. (GETTING ENRAGED) And if I can't get it here, I'll go where I-- WIFE: Please! You're not going out again? MAXIE: I shall go out whenever I choose, and I certainly don't expect you to tell me when to, or when not to. Besides which, I told you to be quiet and stop interrupting when the Lord and Master is speaking! WIFE: I'm sorry, Maxie. (STARTS TO CRY) MAXIE: (SARCASTIC) Well, well. The little woman who is the Wife of Maxie is crying. Did I frighten you? Did I frighten you, little woman, Wife of Maxie? WIFE: (TEARFUL) Maxie, please. Go upstairs. MAXIE: I told ya I was gonna go out this evening, have a few drinks with a few friends. WIFE: (PLEADING) Stay home! You've had enough to drink! Stay home, and go to bed! (SOBBING) Please! For heaven's sake, stay home, and let me rest in peace! MAXIE: Who do ya think you're talking to, Wife of Maxie? (SLAPS HER) SFX: VICIOUS FACE-SLAP WIFE: (REACTS) (AN AWFUL SILENCE) MAXIE: (CLENCHED TEETH) Who do you think you're talking to? WIFE: Don't hit me. I'm sorry I said anything. I didn't mean to say anything. (TEARFUL) I won't say anything. I won't. SFX: VICIOUS FACE-SLAP ON THE WORD "MAXIE" MAXIE: (CLENCHED TEETH) Answer me! Who do you think you're talking to, Wife of World-Famous (HITS HER AGAIN) Maxie! WIFE: (SCREAM OF PAIN) MAXIE: Be quiet! WIFE: (SOBS QUIETLY) MAXIE: (SEETHING) The Lord and Master has ordered it. Be quiet! (HITS HER AGAIN) SFX: FACE-SLAP WIFE: (REACTS, FALLS TO FLOOR, SOBBING) MAXIE: You should learn your place, Wife of Authority Maxie! WIFE: (STILL SOBBING) MAXIE: (TO HIMSELF) I need a drink. SFX: UNSTEADY FOOTSTEPS, UNDER MAXIE: (TO HIMSELF) Think I'll go get me a drink. SFX: HEADS FOR THE DOOR ... OPENS IT ... GOES OUT ... SLAMS DOOR ... TAKES A FEW UNSTEADY STEPS, THEN STOPS HARVEY: (SLIGHTLY OFF) Er, pardon me. Is this five-oh-seven? MAXIE: (BEAT) It's not, sir. It's uh, five-oh-five. You're looking, I take it, for the, uh, "Gibsons" family? HARVEY: Yes, that's right. MAXIE: Yes. Were you planning to spend some time with the "Gibsons" family? HARVEY: Their daughter's getting married this evening. I'm late for the wedding now, I think. MAXIE: I make it a point never to detain anyone, my good chap. The "Gibsons" family are my neighbours. Uh, directly to your left. HARVEY: Thank you. SFX: MR. HARVEY STARTS WALKING, UNDER MAXIE: (CALLING, FADING) Uh, do give the best regard of their good neighbour, Maxie, to the "Gibsons" family! HARVEY: (TO HIMSELF) Yes, I will. MAXIE: (CALLING, OFF) I've always, had a soft spot in my heart for the "Gibsons" family. SFX: MAN STOPS AT GIBBONS' DOOR ... RINGS BELL ... PAUSE ... FRONT DOOR OPENS MARY: Oh, Mr. Harvey, come in. They're just ready to start. HARVEY: Thank you, Mary. SFX: HE STEPS IN ... DOOR CLOSES ... THEY WALK A FEW STEPS GRACE: Mary? Mary? MARY: Coming, Mrs. Gibbons. GRACE: (ASIDE, TO HARVEY) It's in there. HARVEY: Oh. Thank you. SFX: HE WALKS INTO LIVING ROOM GRACE: Mary? Oh, there you are, Mary. Is the punch all made? MARY: Oh, yes, Mrs. Gibbons. GRACE: Did you put enough sugar in it? MARY: Yes, Mrs. Gibbons. GRACE: All right. GEORGE: (SLIGHTLY OFF, CALLING) Er, Grace, I-- I can't tie my tie. GRACE: Coming, dear. SFX: HURRIES UP THE STAIRS, AND TO THE BEDROOM GEORGE: (FADING IN, AS GRACE APPROACHES) How in thunderation do you ever expect a man to tie a bow-tie? It's impossible, that's what it is, dear, impossible! GRACE: Oh, now, George, don't get yourself all worked up. (REACHING FOR HIS BOW-TIE) Put your head up, dear. (HE DOES, AND SHE STARTS TYING THE TIE) The people are downstairs already. GEORGE: What? Well-- well, can't they read the announcement? It says very distinctly on the announcement that the wedding will take place at five-thirty PM, at the home of Mr. and Mrs. George Gibbons. GRACE: Yes, yes. Now, don't get nervous, dear, you'll wrinkle your shirt. GEORGE: You DO like him, Grace? GRACE: (PAUSE) He's a fine boy. GEORGE: (CHUCKLING) He'd better be good to her. GRACE: He'll be good. Now, stop fretting. GEORGE: Mm. GRACE: All right, all right. (FINISHES TYING TIE) Now, step back, and let me look at you. SFX: A COUPLE OF STEPS BACK GRACE: (LOOKS AT HIM, THEN SMILES) You look fine, George! Just fine. GEORGE: Mm. Er, what time is it? GRACE: Almost five-thirty. (STARTS CHANGING INTO HER FORMAL DRESS) GEORGE: What?! Well, for heaven's sake, why doesn't someone tell me what time it is? It'd be a fine thing, I must say, for me to miss my own daughter's wedding! GRACE: It'll only take a few seconds to go downstairs, dear. Sally's all ready. She's waiting in the front hall. GEORGE: Is, uh, is HE here? GRACE: Yes, he's here. (BEAT) We'll have a son, George. GEORGE: Mm. Well, uh...yes. Yes. GRACE: We always wanted to have a son. GEORGE: That's right. Yes, we'll-- we'll have a son! GRACE: Yes. Fasten the back of my dress? GEORGE: Yes. (HE STARTS DOING SO) GRACE: (HER FACADE OF CALM EFFICIENCY DROPS) George? GEORGE: Yes, Grace? GRACE: Will... Will they call us tomorrow? She's never been away from home before. (PULLS HERSELF TOGETHER) I'll... I'll be a little worried, I'm afraid. GEORGE: Oh, now... Grace, there's-- there's nothing to worry about. He's a fine boy, and he'll... He'll take good care of her. (A BIT CHOKED UP) Nothing at all to worry about. GRACE: (TEARFUL WHISPER) I suppose. GEORGE: All right. (FINISHES DOING UP HER DRESS) There! Finished. GRACE: Thank you, George. GEORGE: Ah, you... You've a very pretty back, Grace. GRACE: (CHUCKLES, BLUSHINGLY) Oh... George Gibbons, what a thing to say! GEORGE: You looked mighty sweet the afternoon we got married. GRACE: Did I, George? GEORGE: You did indeed. Your hair was...always so blonde, and you had it in a kind of a knot on the back of your neck. GRACE: You remember? GEORGE: Why, of course I remember! GRACE: (BLUSHING) That's nice. We've been very happy and very fortunate, George. GEORGE: Ah, yes we have! GRACE: I hope she'll be happy, the way WE are. GEORGE: Oh... (HUGS HER) They'll be happy, Mother! GRACE: Of course they will. GEORGE: Yes. GRACE: I'm foolish. I'm sounding like mothers in books. GEORGE: Yeah. GRACE: Well, it... It's five-thirty, George. Shall we go down? GEORGE: (NERVOUS WHISPER) Where will you be? GRACE: Oh, I'll be sitting down front, with Grandma, and HIS mother, dear. GEORGE: Yeah. Wh-- where'd you say Sally would be? GRACE: She's downstairs. Downstairs in the hall. GEORGE: Ah. All right. GRACE: Well... Come along, dear. GEORGE: (DEEP BREATH) All right, Mother. SFX: THEY WALK INTO THE HALLWAY ... CLOSE THE BEDROOM DOOR ... START WALKING DOWNSTAIRS, UNDER GEORGE: (NOTICES SOMETHING THROUGH THE WINDOW) Oh! What's that across the street? Looks like a moving van. GRACE: Oh, uh, it is. I think they're moving, over there. It'd be nice if we could get the house for Frank and Sally. GEORGE: Mm. Well... Come along. GRACE: All right. SFX: THEY WALK DOWNSTAIRS, UNDER MARY: Everyone's ready, Ma'am. GRACE: They can start now, Mary. (WHISPERING TO GEORGE) Hold your stomach in when you walk in to the preacher, George. SFX: SHE HURRIES AWAY, INTO THE LIVING ROOM GEORGE: Huh? Y-- yes, Grace. (CLEARS THROAT, NERVOUSLY) SFX: WALKS SLOWLY TO LIVING ROOM DOORWAY MUSIC: "WEDDING MARCH", PLAYED ON PIANO, SLIGHTLY OFF, UNDER GEORGE: (MISTY-EYED) Come along, Sally. (GIVES HER HIS ARM) You're going to be an old married woman, in just a little bit. SFX: THEY SLOWLY WALK INTO THE LIVING ROOM, UNDER GEORGE: Oh, you look lovely. SFX: LOUD DOORBELL ... SLIGHT PAUSE ... FRONT DOOR OPENS MARY: (LOUD WHISPER) Yes? HAL: Uh, five-oh-six Laurel? MARY: (DITTO) What? HAL: (DITTO) Is this five-oh-six Laurel? MARY: (DITTO) Oh, no, that's across the street. HAL: (DITTO) Oh. Sorry to bother ya. SFX: DOOR SLAM ... MAN WALKS ON SIDEWALK HERB: (SLIGHTLY OFF) What'sa matter? HAL: 'Cross the street. HERB: You sure it's across the street? You said it was this one here. HAL: It's across the street. The dame told me. Wait here. SFX: STARTS WALKING ALONG SIDEWALK HERB: (FADING, AS MOVER 1 WALKS AWAY) Aw, I'm tired. I'd just like to go home, that's all. I wish you never got in this racket anyway. HAL: You're always gripin'! SFX: STOPS WALKING ... KNOCKS LOUDLY ON DOOR ... PAUSE ... DOOR OPENS HAL: This five-oh-six Laurel? MAN: Yeah. Come in. HAL: Yeah. I'll get my assistant. (CALLS) Herbie! HERB: (OFF) Okay, I'm comin'. SFX: HAL AND MAN WALK INTO HOUSE MAN: Take the stuff from that other room first. BEA: (SLIGHTLY OFF) Tell them to be careful. MAN: She says to-- HAL: Yeah, I heard her. Come on, Herbie. HERB: Yeah, yeah, yeah. SFX: MAN WALKS TO HIS WIFE BEA: Did you tell 'em to be careful? MAN: M-hm. Hey. You forgot these. SFX: GIVES HER SOME PICTURES IN FRAMES BEA: (DISINTERESTED) You can have 'em. I never liked them, anyway. MAN: It's a fine time to tell me. BEA: You wouldn't have cared if I'd told you four years, two months, and fifteen days ago. Don't try to kid me. MAN: Oh, fine... BEA: I can't tell you what a pleasure it'll be NOT to hear anyone say, "Oh, fine..." again! MAN: (SARCASTIC) I'm always glad when you're glad, darling. BEA: You can stop calling me "darling", now. The van is here for my half of all the junk we've collected. And then, if I'm REAL lucky, I may never have to see you again. MAN: Well, let's not get huffy, shall we? BEA: What makes you suddenly so worried about whether or not I'm huffy? MAN: Oh, fine... BEA: Oh, shut up. MAN: Look, maybe we'd better just be quiet until you move outta here. BEA: I am now what you might call a guest in this house. And so, I will either talk or not talk, depending entirely how I feel at the moment! You've nothing to say about it. MAN: It's MY house! BEA: Then, you're sitting on MY chair! I'd appreciate it if you didn't get your oily head all over the back of it! SFX: SHE WALKS AROUND THE ROOM, PACKING UP OBJECTS OF HER CHOICE, UNDER MAN: (CAUSTICALLY) Oh, you're such a sweet child! BEA: (DITTO) And you're such a sweet boy! A nice kind of boy, who never comes home! I feel very sorry for whoever the next one is that you talk into marrying you. She's got such a headache coming, that kid. MAN: May I say the same for YOU? BEA: That was a clever answer. You're one of the most annoying people I've ever known. How did I get into a marriage with you in the first place? MAN: I dunno. You said something about LOVING ME, at the time. BEA: I must'a been out of my mind. MAN: Look, I'd appreciate it if you'd hurry and get outta here! I'm expecting some...uh... guests. BEA: Hm! In addition to being dumb, you're somewhat of a louse, aren't you? MAN: Now, look, darling, let's not show our lack of breeding, shall we? BEA: I wonder if I should slap your face just once before I leave. MAN: Temper, temper, temper. BEA: Keep your head offa that chair! MAN: Terribly sorry! BEA: Should'a known when I saw you use all that glue on your hair, that you weren't the sort of man I should marry. MAN: Rather have married a bald chap, lovely one, hm? BEA: May-be. It's an idea, anyway. MAN: Then you could rub his bald head at night when he comes home from a hard day at the office! BEA: (BITTER LAUGH) Huh! You better not make fun of a hard day at the office. You wouldn't know what it was like to put in a day's work! MAN: I've been working very hard, the last few months. BEA: The HORSES do all the work, kid. You think walking to the Mutual windows is work? MAN: (YELLING) Aw, be quiet! HAL: (OFF) Does this here go too? BEA: What? (LOOKS AT IT) Oh. Yeah. That there goes too. HAL: (OFF) Okay. We can handle it, Herb. HERB: Hey, maybe if we'd'a read some o' these here books, we wouldn't have to carry em, huh? MAN: Is he taking the books? BEA: Only MY books, dear bright one. You never read anyway. MAN: Oh, FINE! SFX: MOVERS' FOOTSTEPS, AS THEY WALK TO BOOKCASE HAL: (IRONIC) Nice little couple. HERB: Yeah, yeah. HAL: Hey, watch that doorjamb, willya? HERB: (STRUGGLING WITH HEAVY OBJECT) I got it. Gee, my old woman and me never fight. HAL: Huh! HERB: What, is that bad? HAL: You're so dumb, you'll prob'ly ALWAYS be married! You and your old woman... HERB: Hey, what's in this here bookcase? HAL: (STRUGGLING WITH IT) Those things they give away in that radio show. SFX: SLOW FOOTSTEPS, AS THEY CARRY BOOKCASE OUT TO THE TRUCK, UNDER HERB: (STRUGGLING) They're awful heavy. HAL: Well, lotsa people write this here... HERB: Hey, set 'em down, willya? I'm fagged. HAL: Me too. All right. (BOTH GROAN, AS:) SFX: THEY PUT IT DOWN HAL: There. HERB: It's hot. HAL: Uh-huh. DOCTOR: (APPROACHING) Uh, is that where the Reagans live? HERB: Where'd you come from? DOCTOR: Oh, I'm sorry. I-- I said, "Is that where the Reagans live?" HERB: What number ya want, bud? DOCTOR: Oh, uh... (THINKING) five... Oh, five-oh-eight. HAL: Ehh, that must be next door. HERB: Must be next door. DOCTOR: Oh, thank you. SFX: HE WALKS AWAY, UNDER HAL: (FADING) Ehh, ya wanna go to that musical play, downtown, Herbie? It's got dancin' in it. You wanna see a show, and, uh, make your old lady happy? HERB: (FADING) Oh, yeah, she sure likes them dancers. One o' the big ones, huh? SFX: DOCTOR STOPS AT REAGANS' HOUSE ... DOOR BUZZER ... PAUSE ... DOOR OPENS. ALLAN: Oh. Oh, Dr. Gaines. DOCTOR: Uh, good evening, Mr. Reagan. ALLAN: Please hurry, Doctor! SFX: DOCTOR STEPS IN ... DOOR CLOSES ALLAN: She's-- she's right in there. DOCTOR: Ah. Is the nurse here? ALLAN: Yeah. SFX: APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS ROGER: (APPROACHING) I left some boiling water in there, Allan. Nurse said she'd get it, and whatever else you needed. ALLAN: Oh, thanks. Er, this is Mr. Lathan, Doctor. DOCTOR: Oh, how do you do? ROGER: I'll take your hat, Doctor. DOCTOR: Thank you very much. SFX: ALLAN AND DOCTOR WALK TO BEDROOM ... OPEN DOOR ... WALK IN ALLAN: (NERVOUSLY) Here's...Dr. Gaines, darling. HELEN: (SOFTLY) Hello, Doctor. DOCTOR: Oh... Now, you're a little ahead of schedule, aren't you, Mrs. Reagan? HELEN: (SOFT CHUCKLE) I guess so. ALLAN: You'll...call if you need anything? DOCTOR: (REASSURING) Yes, yes, of course. SFX: ALLAN LEAVES, CLOSING DOOR SOFTLY ... WALKS SLOWLY TO LIVING ROOM, WHERE ROGER IS WAITING SFX: ALLAN PACES NERVOUSLY AND INTERMITTENTLY, THROUGHOUT ROGER: Feel better now? ALLAN: I'll feel better when it's all over. ROGER: I'm sure you will. ALLAN: S'pose that doctor knows what he's doin'? Helen was so fond o' the doctor we had back home. ROGER: Oh, he's a very reputable man, a good doctor. ALLAN: Yeah, I suppose. (BEAT) Gee, I never should'a done it, Roger. Brought Helen all the way to California, when she was expecting. ROGER: Well, she wanted to come. She wouldn't have had it any other way. ALLAN: But to bring her all the way across the country, away the family, away from her own doctor! ROGER: You couldn't very well help yourself. It was too good a job to turn down. ALLAN: I should'a left Helen at home until the baby was born. She could'a been in a hospital there. ROGER: Oh, relax. It's gonna be all right. Cigarette? ALLAN: (TAKES ONE) Yeah, thanks. SFX: ROGER STRIKES A MATCH ... LIGHTS ALLAN'S CIGARETTE SFX: ALLAN PACES A FEW STEPS ALLAN: Wonder what I'll tell her... ROGER: Who? ALLAN: The little girl. When she grows up. Wonder what I'll say about the War. ROGER: Why should you have to say anything? ALLAN: Well, she'll be in school, and the other kids'll talk about their fathers, and what they did. ROGER: Well, you tried hard enough. You've certainly done well with what you had to do. ALLAN: Oh, not enough! Not-- not nearly enough! ROGER: You don't have to bleed to be doing something. ALLAN: What can I say? That I made lotsa money? ROGER: Aw, now cut it out. I had two years in uniform. I can't honestly say that I did any more toward winning the War than you have. Matter of fact, if you could measure such things, you've done more. ALLAN: But how do you explain all that to a child? You either were a soldier or you weren't. ROGER: I'm not gonna make any heroic speeches to you about relative contributions. I wouldn't know how. But I can promise you, that when it's all over, people will forget. ALLAN: (IRONIC) That's a great way of putting it. "People will forget." You mean, they'll forget that I was a civilian, and stayed home in a good job, and had a child, and that you and a lot of other guys didn't stay home? And even that a lot of you will never get home? ROGER: Look, Allan, your child, when she comes home from school, is gonna ask you a lot of questions. Which you'll have trouble answering. Why you weren't a soldier will be a very simple one by then. You'd better start figuring out a good simple answer to... why rain is wet. That's where you'll have trouble. And stop throwing ashes on the carpet! Helen's gonna be up and around and able to see the floor, and she's gonna be very angry at you. HELEN: (OFF - A CRY OF PAIN) ALLAN: Hey! It's Helen! SFX: ROGER HURRIES TO ALLAN ROGER: (TAKING CHARGE) Oh, put your cigarette out before you burn your fingers... ALLAN: That was Helen! ROGER: And that happens. (REASSURING) Put your cigarette out. ALLAN: S'pose anything's wrong? ROGER: I don't know that much about it. Offhand, I'd say no. ALLAN: Why didn't I make her stay home, with her own doctor, and her mother, and a good hospital? ROGER: Why do you, uh, keep referring to your child as a "she"? ALLAN: Heh? What'd you say? ROGER: Well, you keep calling the child "she". How come? ALLAN: Oh, I'm sure it'll be a girl. ROGER: (CHUCKLING) How can you be sure? ALLAN: Well, I just want a little girl. And I'll call her Helen. There'll be a Big Helen and a Little Helen in my house. ROGER: (CHUCKLING) Does Big Helen want to have a Little Helen? ALLAN: Oh, she wants a boy. ROGER: She wanna call him Allan? ALLAN: (SHEEPISH) She wants to call him Donald. Donny, for short. ROGER: Well, that's a very nice name. ALLAN: What's taking so long? ROGER: Oh, the doctor's only been in there a few-- SFX: BABY'S CRIES (OFF), UNDER ALLAN: Did you hear something?! ROGER: I heard your son or daughter yell. Sounds angry. ALLAN: Well, I heard-- How's Helen?! SFX: ALLAN PACES FRANTICALLY ROGER: I hope I never have to go through this again-- ALLAN: Why doesn't she come out here?! ROGER: Look, willya take it easy? HELEN had the baby! SFX: BABY'S CRIES TURN INTO COUGHS, THEN INTO COOING, UNDER ALLAN: Helen had MY baby! I'm a father! ROGER: It's a slow take. ALLAN: Big Helen and... Little Helen Reagan... Hey, they could dress alike! SFX: BEDROOM DOOR OPENS ... DOCTOR STEPS OUT ALLAN: (ANXIOUS) Dr. Gaines! How's Helen? SFX: DOCTOR CLOSES DOOR SOFTLY ... WALKS TOWARDS ALLAN, UNDER DOCTOR: (APPROACHING) Oh, she's fine, Mr. Reagan. Just fine. I just got here in time. ALLAN: (ANXIOUS) She'll be all right? DOCTOR: No trouble at all. You've a fine big boy. ALLAN: (BEAT) A boy? (BEAT) Donald Reagan. DOCTOR: Uh... May I have a glass of water? ALLAN: (ANXIOUS) Can I see her now? DOCTOR: Er, well, not just yet. May I have a glass of water? ALLAN: Oh. Sure. Sure, Doctor. Roger, run next door and see if you can use the phone? Send my mother and Helen's mother a wire, willya, and tell 'em, huh? SFX: ROGER WALKS TO DOOR, UNDER, STARTING AT (X) ROGER: Ah, yes, yes, I know what (X) to tell them. (FADING) Be right back. SFX: KEEPS WALKING, UNDER ALLAN: Would you like a drink, Doctor? DOCTOR: (FADING) Er, I would like a drink of water... ALLAN: Oh, yes, right in here. Ice-water? SFX: ROGER OPENS FRONT DOOR ... STEPS OUT ... CLOSES DOOR ... WALKS ALONG SIDEWALK ... A DOG BARKS A FEW TIMES (SLIGHTLY OFF) SFX: ROGER STOPS AT HOUSE NEXT DOOR ... DOOR BUZZER ... PAUSE ... DOOR OPENS ... PAUSE HYMIE: (SOFTLY) Yeah? ROGER: I'm sorry to trouble you. May I use your telephone? I'm a friend of Mr. and Mrs. Reagan. HYMIE: (POLITELY) Oh, sure. But please be quiet, though. My ma's not well. ROGER: Oh, maybe I'd better go to the corner. HYMIE: (WARMLY) No, no, no. It's all right. Come in. SFX: ROGER STEPS IN ... DOOR CLOSES ... THEY WALK TOGETHER HYMIE: Phone's right there. ROGER: Thank you. I'll only be a minute. HYMIE: I'll be in the back room, if you need me for anything. ROGER: Oh, thanks. I'm sure I won't need anything, though. SFX: HYMIE WALKS TO BACK ROOM ... OPENS DOOR ... STEPS IN ... CLOSES IT ... WALKS INTO ROOM, UNDER MOTHER: (SLIGHTLY OFF) Who was it, Hymie? HYMIE: A friend o' the Reagans wanted to use the phone, Ma. MOTHER: (FADING IN, AS HE APPROACHES) Something wrong next door? HYMIE: No, no, it's all right. He just wanted to send a telegram. MOTHER: (BREATHES WITH SOME DIFFICULTY) Oh. Maybe it's the baby, heh? HYMIE: (GENTLE CHUCKLE) Yeah, sure. You comfortable, Ma? MOTHER: Oh, sure, sure. SFX: HYMIE WALKS ACROSS ROOM ... OPENS WINDOW MOTHER: (BREATHES THE FRESH AIR) Mmmm... SFX: HYMIE WALKS BACK TO HER HYMIE: There, dear. Is that better? MOTHER: (SIGHS) Ah... Much better. I like to listen to the twilight. HYMIE: (LITTLE CHUCKLE) MOTHER: (SIGHS. BEAT) Hymie? HYMIE: Yes, Mother? MOTHER: Promise me something, huh? HYMIE: (WARMLY) Sure. MOTHER: You're a good boy, Hymie. You do so good in school. But you shouldn't fight so much. HYMIE: I don't fight, Ma. MOTHER: Now, you fight yourself, Hymie. Inside you, all the time, you... You try to hurry things. HYMIE: Well, everything takes so long. MOTHER: That's good, that's good. You've got to learn what is best by everybody, is what you're doing. HYMIE: (SOFTLY) Yeah. MOTHER: And you cannot learn it in an hour. Or even a day. We only get one day at a time. HYMIE: But there's so much wrong, Ma! So many wrong people! MOTHER: Because a man does not always agree with what you think, he's not a bad man. HYMIE: Yeah, yeah, I know, Ma. Maybe I should just shut up. MOTHER: No. No, you should never shut up, if what you say is honest and is what you believe. But everybody in the world has...different experiences while they're in it. Things...uh, happen... to make them what they are. HYMIE: How do you mean, Ma? MOTHER: Well... Look at us, heh? HYMIE: Yeah? MOTHER: Well, we own this house...and the people on this block are friends to us... HYMIE: M-hm. MOTHER: And you? You have a good education. And your life will not be poor. HYMIE: Mm. MOTHER: Papa saw to that. And what Pop and I have, THAT was better than what OUR mama and papa had, see? HYMIE: Yeah. The natural progression o' things, huh, Ma? MOTHER: (CHUCKLES WARMLY) HYMIE: Huh? MOTHER: (DITTO) You use those big words... (THEY CHUCKLE WARMLY TOGETHER) MOTHER: Yah, Hymie, yah. Everything gets better. People like each other better. HYMIE: Because they're finding out that they HAVE TO. MOTHER: Or... Because they WANT TO, heh? HYMIE: (ADMIRINGLY) You've got a wonderful faith, Ma. MOTHER: (BEAT) I won't be here to see it, when it's all done. But I know it'll be like I said. HYMIE: Don't talk like that, Ma! You're gonna be all right! MOTHER: Oh, sure. Sure, I'm going to be all right. HYMIE: Sure. MOTHER: You know, Hymie? HYMIE: What, Ma? MOTHER: (SLIGHT CATCH IN HER VOICE) So will YOU be. MUSIC: WISTFUL, SLIGHTLY MINOR-KEY, UNDER ANNCR: 'Tis all a checkerboard of nights and days, Where Destiny, with men for pieces, plays. Hither and thither, moves and mates and slays, And one by one, back in the closet lays. MUSIC: SWELLS TO A CURTAIN, THEN OUT ANNCR: Thank you for your time, Ladies and Gentlemen. You're invited to listen at the same time, next Saturday, when "Twelve Players"... MUSIC: FANFARE THEME, ESTABLISH, THEN UNDER, TURNING INTO QUIET THEME AT (X), CONTINUING UNDER ANNCR: ...when "Twelve Players" (X) will bring you another half-hour of radio entertainment. Their producer-director is Ray Buffam. Tonight's script was written by Catherine and Elliott Lewis. Music is by Wilbur Hatch. Sound by Berne Surrey. And Herman Michaels was the Engineer. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. MUSIC: THEME CONTINUES, THEN OUT