JOHN: I have. They made me go in the room when my mother was dying and she caught hold of my hand and let me go—and so I wouldn’t screamed and hit her. ALMA: Oh, you do that. didn’t JOHN: (Somberly) Uh-huh. She look like my mother. Her face was didn’t all ugly and yellow and terrible—bad smelling! And so I hit her to make her let go of my hand. They told me that I was a devil. ALMA: You know what you were doing. didn’t JOHN: My dad is a doctor. ALMA: I know. JOHN: He wants to send me to college to study to be a doctor but I be a doctor for the world. And have to go in a room and watch wouldn’t people dying!...Jesus! ALMA: your mind about that. You’ll change JOHN: Oh, no, I rather be a devil, like they called me and go to won’t. I’d South America on a boat!..Give me one of them handkerchiefs. (She brings them eagerly and humbly to the fountain. He takes one out and wets it at the fountain and scrubs his face with it.) Is my face clean enough to suit you? ALMA: Yes!—Beautiful! JOHN: Well—let’s—kiss each other. (ALMA turns away.) JOHN: (He seizes her shoulders and gives her a Come on, let’s just try it! quick rough kiss. She stands amazed with one hand cupping the other. The voice of a child in the He distance calls “Johnny! Johnny!” suddenly snatches at her hair-ribbon, jerks it loose and then runs off with a mocking laugh. Hurt and bewildered, ALMA turns back to the stone angel, for comfort. She crouches at the pediment and touches the inscription with her fingers. The scene dims out with music.)
JOHN: I have. They made me go in the room when my mother was dying and she caught hold of my hand and wouldn’t let me go—and so I screamed and hit her. ALMA: Oh, you didn’t do that. JOHN: (Somberly) Uh-huh. She didn’t look like my mother. Her face was all ugly and yellow and terrible—bad smelling! And so I hit her to make her let go of my hand. They told me that I was a devil. ALMA: You didn’t know what you were doing. JOHN: My dad is a doctor. ALMA: I know. JOHN: He wants to send me to college to study to be a doctor but I wouldn’t be a doctor for the world. And have to go in a room and watch people dying!...Jesus! ALMA: You’ll change your mind about that. JOHN: Oh, no, I won’t. I’d rather be a devil, like they called me and go to South America on a boat!..Give me one of them handkerchiefs. (She brings them eagerly and humbly to the fountain. He takes one out and wets it at the fountain and scrubs his face with it.) Is my face clean enough to suit you? ALMA: Yes!—Beautiful! JOHN: Well—let’s—kiss each other. (ALMA turns away.) JOHN: Come on, let’s just try it! (He seizes her shoulders and gives her a quick rough kiss. She stands amazed with one hand cupping the other. The voice of a child in the distance calls “Johnny! Johnny!” He suddenly snatches at her hair-ribbon, jerks it loose and then runs off with a mocking laugh. Hurt and bewildered, ALMA turns back to the stone angel, for comfort. She crouches at the pediment and touches the inscription with her fingers. The scene dims out with music.)
Summer-and-Smoke.docx