Torch Song Page #6

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Well, don't go on my account, Jen.

You know, I always stay up late.

I like to hear that

Mr. Nightclub's Platter Party.

The records he plays are square,

but, oh, he talks an awful hip commercial.

- I know.

- You listen to him to, huh?

He's company.

Trouble with the show?

No.

Your health?

You know, doctor-type health?

No.

Need money?

No, Mom.

That I got.

- Man trouble.

- No.

Yes.

I'm gonna break out that bottle of

champagne I've been keeping for my wake.

Come on, take off the shoes

and tell me all about it.

- Nothing much to say.

- Well, say it.

- Well, he's a man that...

- Well, that's a profit anyway.

At least he ain't no hothouse clotheshorse

like you always get in the papers with.

He's blind.

Well...

Your father was somewhat bald,

you know, when I married him.

I guess we all carry

some infirmity with us.

Every time we get together. Wow.

- Really?

- We're fighting.

Now, according

to Mrs. Osterhoff's butcher...

...that is known as basic sex antagonism.

I call it...

Gypsy Madonna.

I call it love.

- What's that you said?

- He called me a Gypsy Madonna.

My hair hasn't been

that color in seven years.

Gypsy Madonna, Gypsy Mado...

Mom, where are you going?

The doctor told you not to walk.

If you want something,

tell me and I'll get it.

All right.

I want my scrapbook. It's in the cabinet.

Midnight and she wants scrapbooks yet.

It's the red one on top.

It's the first one I kept on you.

I got 10 of them now.

Every story and picture I could find.

And what I missed, Mrs. Osterhoff found.

- Is this it?

- Yeah, that's the one.

Believe it or not, Jen,

I've always been proud of my daughter.

- Is that me?

- Sure. Who did you think it was?

I tell you, Jen, I must be getting old.

I used to be able to rattle them off

word for word.

- Ah. Here it is.

- "'Gotham Today. ' By Tye Graham. "

That's him, Mom.

You don't say.

"One production number in the second act

featured a girl with auburn red hair.

She danced and sang one song,

'Tenderly. '

She seemed to fill the stage

all by herself.

Among a crowd of born dance hall

hostesses, she was a... "

Gypsy Madonna.

You see?

"Her name is Jenny Stewart...

...and she made the rest of the show

difficult to remember.

I kept looking for her again,

but she never returned until the finale.

I doubt that any man in the audience

was watching the principals.

I know I wasn't.

Tomorrow, I leave for the service...

...and no more pleasant memories

could I carry with me...

...than that short

but vivid glimpse of one Jenny Stewart. "

That's where

the "Gypsy Madonna" came from.

When it comes to Jenny Stewart...

...the man who wrote this

could never be blind.

I wonder what he saw in me.

I wasn't that good then.

Maybe you forgot how good you was.

Put on that old record of yours,

"Tenderly. "

Go ahead.

The one you gave me on my...

Well, one of my earlier birthdays.

Now, don't mind the scratches.

It might sound a little tired,

but you'll see what I mean.

Incidentally, Jenny...

...your father wasn't just somewhat bald

when I married him.

He was bald as a billiard ball. Ha!

Well, it's senseless music, Martha.

But it's Jenny.

Blatant and brash.

That's the way she is.

That's the way I see her.

Where did I put my pipe, please?

Where's Martha?

She left a few minutes ago.

How did you manage that?

It was easy.

She loves you.

How did you manage to get Charlie Maylor

on a plane to Cuba?

That was easy. He hates you.

How did you know about Charlie and me?

I'm psychic.

Also, I phoned Havana.

Look, Jenny, I told you, I'm not coming

to Philadelphia with you. That's final.

You should come.

If only to hear

your Gypsy Madonna singing.

I read that old review you wrote.

It was a little corny...

...but find me a guy who can write

a love letter that isn't a little corny.

It was purely a professional opinion.

No more, no less.

Why don't you stop hiding?

You hide behind that keyboard.

- Cut it out.

- You hide behind the dog.

You hide behind

that smug look on your face.

- You also hide behind...

- Jenny, get out of here.

Why didn't you come right out

and tell me how you felt about me?

What were you afraid of?

That I'd say no?

Afraid I'd laugh at you

because you're blind?

Jenny, get out of here!

It's all right for you

to call yourself blind...

...but you don't like it

when somebody else does, do you?

I finally did it.

It took a long time,

but I finally cracked your shell.

You really wrecked the joint.

I did a thorough job?

Yup.

Need help getting up?

No, thank you.

Then how about helping me up?

That's the first time I ever heard

Jenny Stewart ask for anything.

It's the first time

Jenny ever needed anything.

And I do need you, Tye.

I know you do.

You need me too.

I know that too.

Mm.

Guess I better start taking lessons.

What kind?

How to be a seeing eye.

How about Duchess?

Can she cook?

No.

Can she sing?

Not very well.

Believe me, Duchess has her limitations.

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