Question: You asked Rosemary to marry you!? When was this? What happened?
Well, yeah, I guess I did. It was 4th of July. Great night. Thought Rosemary going to take to drinking more'n me! We were having a great time, and, you know, I was trying to get close to her . . . but you know Rosemary. She would have none of that, and she's so tough, that one. I was joking around, and I said something like you need a good man to make a woman out of you.
She laughed, and started looking around: Really? Where? Where's a good man?
And I said: if you would put on your glasses, o' vanity, then maybe you could see what's right in front of you.
She said: A woman needs a man like she needs a mangy old stray dog.
I said:
Oh, you're a woman who don't need marriage?
She said: That's right. I've gone this long without it, and it ain 't done me no harm Howard Bevens.
And then I kissed her. I'm not sure why -- hell, I felt like it. It was our first kiss. I think Rosemary was a little shocked.
And then I said: maybe I should be waiting w/the preacher when you come back from Kansas city in August. How would like that, Mrs. Rosemary Bevens.
And she said: Howard, you'll never go through with it, you're too set in your ways . . .
And I said: when you get back, I'll be waitin' with the preacher . . .
She said. We'll just see what you'll do at the end of summer . . . and no matter what you do, you ain 't getting nothin tonight!
Question: So what's happened since?
Well . . . nothing really. I was drunk. Rosemary was pretty tipsy herself. We never really talked about it. Oh, a few days after she kidded me: I'd better see that preacher when I come back Howard Bevens. And I would say Preacher? And she would say, yes, Howard, after I get back, is he going to be there? And I said well honey, preachers and the end of summer, they're in short supply, but I do my best . . . and then I got quiet . . . and then after a few moments Rosemary started talking about whatever, school, Ms. Owens. I felt bad, but come on -- I was drunk that day, and Rosemary was too.
Question: So where do things stand now?
Oh, well . . . nothing's standing, really. We never really talked about it since. I feel guilty, sometimes, but . . . I'll make it up to her . . . sometime . . . I don't know what she thinks really . . . or wants . . . I just feel that when the time is right, it'll come up on it's own, (getting angry) when the time's right, and a man just knows when the time is right You can't push a man into doing something before it's time!
<NOTE1: fascinating. There's so much subtext in this imaginative-improved dialog. Howard just doesn't think about it, and he starts to get angry if you push him to even discuss it . . . this is best I can do with this whole proposal/marrage issue . . . fascinating.>
<NOTE2: Howard promised . . . and then he spent the rest of the summer trying to get out of it. Howard lacks a lot of courage, but that's not what this scene is about. Interestingly, in the play, we never see what happens to Howard after this scene ends -- it's not in the play. However, if it were, then Howard may wrestle with this issue, somehow. For now, in this scene, he's squirming to get out of it, out of things . . . out of life and living -- how he resolves that? That's another play.>
At the end of beat 2, I just need and want some time to think --or I just want to give this whole situation time, I don't know, I just know I don't want to deal with this, at least not now -- if I have to deal with it, I want it to be later, after I've had some time to think . . .
Beat 3. When I try to leave (again), R gets even more upset. Here's what I'm doing (physically, I'm still focusing on her, trying to pay extremely close attention to her, watching her, listening to her, trying to understand her -- she's acting unpredictably; it's way out of the ordinary. This grabs attention):
- I see she's so upset
-- reassure her, snap her out of whatever state she's in. I know she's reacting to what happened tonight, but she's starting to . . . I'm not sure. Where is this coming from? What's going on? If I can get her to feel better, then I can leave, and ... hopefully she'll be back to her normal self by next week . . . - At some point, she seems spent, or doesn't have anything else to say...
-- OK, let's try to leave it there . . . things will look better in the morning, next week, it'll be ok...
Howard.
Now look, honey, you better go upstairs and get some sleep. You gotta start school in the morning. We'll talk all this over Saturday.
Rosemary.
Maybe you won't be back on Saturday. Maybe you won't be back ever again.
Howard.
Rosmary, you know better than that.
Rosemary.
Then what's the next thing in store for me? To be nice to the next man, then the next -- till there's no one left to care whether I'm nice to him or not. Till I'm ready for the grave and don't have anyone to take me there?
Howard.
Now, Rosemary!
Rosemary.
You can't let that happen to me, Howard. I won't let you.
Howard.
I don't understand. When we first started going together, you were the best sport I ever saw, always good for a laugh.
[12 . 12 . 2005 NOTE: This line was always strange to me. I never knew what the hell he was trying to say, but it must be some 50's idiom or . . . I don't know, but I finally decided to use these words to communicate to R "it's not that bad, cheer up," i.e., I was trying to comfort her with these words]
Rosmary.
I can't laugh anymore.
[OK, let's try to leave it there . . . things will look better in the morning, next week, it'll be ok...]
Howard.
We'll talk it over Saturday.
Rosemary.
We'll talk it over now.
[Damn! Now what? Shit! I'm so tired, I've got to get out of here...]
Howard.
Well -- honey -- I
