Happy Birthday, Wanda June Page #12

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PAUL:

I wanted to go out for football,

but Mom was afraid I'd get hurt.

HAROLD:

You're supposed to get hurt!

PAUL:

Dr. Woodly says he's seen hundreds

of children permanently injured by

football. He says that when

there's a war, everybody goes but

football players.

HAROLD:

Does it bother you to have your

mother engaged to a man like that?

PAUL:

They're not engaged.

HAROLD:

He seems to think they are. He

told me that were.

PAUL:

Oh no, no, no, no, no. It can't be.

How embarrassing.

HAROLD:

(unexpectedly moved)

You're a very good boy to respond

that way.

PAUL:

No, no, no, no, no.

HAROLD:

I'd like to use the sanitary

facilities, if I may.

PAUL:

Go ahead.

(as HAROLD exits)

No, no, no, no.

PENELOPE and SHUTTLE enter through front door. They are

tremendously relieved to see PAUL.

PAUL:

Thank God!

SHUTTLE:

What a relief!

PENELOPE:

(going to PAUL)

My baby's safe!

PAUL angrily avoids her touch.

PENELOPE:

What's the matter now?

SHUTTLE:

We got a birthday cake, kid. Did

you see the cake?

PAUL:

Are you and Dr. Woodly engaged?

PENELOPE:

(stunned)

Who have you been talking to?

PAUL:

What difference does that make? Is

Dr. Woodly going to be my father now?

Pause.

PENELOPE:

Yes, he is.

PAUL:

(a stifled, gargling cry)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

SHUTTLE:

(sick)

That goes double for me.

PAUL:

I don't want to live any more.

SHUTTLE:

I feel like I want to yell my head

off--just yell anything.

(yelling)

Bulllllllllllllll-dickey!

PAUL:

I'll kill myself.

SHUTTLE:

The wife of Harold Ryan is going to

marry a pansy next? This is the

end of Western Civilization as far

as I'm concerned. You must be

crazy as a fruitcake.

PENELOPE:

Possibly.

SHUTTLE:

How long has this been going on?

PENELOPE:

A week. We were waiting for the

right time to--

SHUTTLE:

I feel as though I had been made a

perfect chump of.

PENELOPE:

I'm sorry.

SHUTTLE:

Marry me instead.

PENELOPE:

Thank you, Herb. You're a

wonderful man. You really are.

Everybody respects you for what

you've done for scouting and the

Little League.

SHUTTLE:

You're saying no.

PENELOPE:

I'm saying no--and thank you.

SHUTTLE:

I didn't make my move fast enough.

That's it, isn't it? I was too

respectful.

PENELOPE:

You were wonderful.

SHUTTLE:

What's so wonderful if I lost the

sale?

(turning to PAUL)

You poor kid.

PAUL:

Don't touch me.

SHUTTLE:

Wouldn't you rather have your

mother marry me than him?

PAUL:

No.

SHUTTLE:

(moving dazedly

toward the front door)

All my dreams have suddenly

collapsed.

(pause)

We did have a lot of laughs

together, Penelope.

PENELOPE:

It's true.

SHUTTLE:

Well--it was nice while it lasted.

Thanks for the memories.

He exits.

Silence. A toilet flushes loudly and complicatedly.

PENELOPE:

Is Norbert still here?

PAUL:

No.

PENELOPE:

Then who flushed the toilet?

PAUL:

Father's friend.

PENELOPE:

What's his name?

PAUL:

Don't know.

PENELOPE:

For Heaven's sakes!

HAROLD enters, still adjusting his trousers.

PENELOPE:

How do you do?

HAROLD:

How do you do, Mrs. Ryan? I'd

heard you were beautiful, and so

you are. Am I intruding here?

PENELOPE:

Not at all.

HAROLD:

I couldn't help overhearing that

you were about to get married again.

PENELOPE has now recognized him, but attempts to protect

herself from shock by pretending that she has not.

PENELOPE:

Our family physician has asked me

to marry him. Paul needs the

guidance and companionship that

only a man can give. He isn't at

all like Harold. But then again,

I'm not the woman I was eight years

ago.

She slumps into a chair, buries her face in her hands.

PAUL:

Mom?

PENELOPE:

(pointing weakly)

That man is your father.

PAUL:

What?

PENELOPE:

There stands the loins from which

you've sprung.

PAUL:

I don't get it.

PENELOPE:

It is you, isn't it, Harold?

HAROLD:

(enjoying the drama hugely)

Yes, wife, it is.

(to PAUL)

Come here, boy. Your father is home.

PAUL:

Sir?

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