THE CRACKER BOX

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Late evening of the same day. The living room of the Cracker Box. The song ends and we hear the sound of the record player's needle clicking repeatedly, stuck in the record's final groove.

The phone rings and the light bulb on the television set begins to blink. Although this continues for several seconds, BEA does not hear anything. Finally, the ringing phone and blinking light stop.

A flashlight shines outside the picture window. WE HEAR the sound of someone trying to force a door and the flashlight from outside begins to shine into and around the living room. BEA wakes up, sees the light and hears the sound of tapping on the window. She is frightened. She grabs hold of her cane, leans on it, and gets up off the couch with difficulty. She stands still, clutching her cane.

Who is it? What do you want?

Open the door, Mrs. McCarthy.

Who is it?

Police officer. Are you all right, Mrs. McCarthy?

The hospital called us, ma'am. They said you hadn't reset-

Wait. Please, wait. I've got to get my hearing aid. In the living room. Come in.

OK, shoot!

Ma'am, the hospital called us. They said you never reset the button this evening.

Button?

On your lifeline box. It wasn't reset. So the hospital-

You scared me half to death.

I am sorry, ma'am, but I'm just doing my job. I had to make sure nothing happened to you.

Why didn't they call me?

They said they did, ma'am. There was no answer.

Why, I was here all evening!

They also said they called your daughter; a Mrs. Lawson. But no-

Oh, she's at the clubhouse tonight. To hear all about their next cruise. They're cruise-happy.

Oh, I see. Well, then, I guess-

To the Bahamas. Or Barbados. Or somewhere that starts with a "B." (laughs) Maybe it was Boston. (remembering) My husband took me to Boston once. That was just after our fiftieth wedding anniversary.

Yes, ma'am. Well, I guess I'll be going then. I'm glad you're all right. (pointing) You'd better be pushing the reset button or a paramedic might show up, too.

I think your record player is still on, ma'am.

Thank you. (laughing) You see? (pointing to the needle) Stuck in the last groove; just like this old lady. (She turns) Would you like some cupcakes and milk before you go? I made some cupcakes.

I'd love to, ma'am but I've got to get back to-

Well, take one with you. One for the Yellow Brick Road! And anytime you want another one, you come back. Sometimes I like to be alone and sometimes I'd like a bit of company. You know?

Yes, ma'am.

I'll tell you one thing and that's not two: It's a lonesome life when one is unable to go out and do as they would like. Even in my own yard every time I try to do something, I have another sudden sit-down on the lawn. Only the last time the pain was so bad. My arm and elbow.

Yes, ma'am, I know what you mean.

But just this week the bill came: Two hundred and sixty-two dollars and seventy-five cents! The part Medicare doesn't pay. That was the big hurt!

Umm-umm! Does that smell good! I believe I will try this now.

Well, then you'll need a bit of milk.

My little Tanya used to love my cupcakes.

Your granddaughter, ma'am?

No, no. My dog. She's been gone over a year now. (near tears) I miss her so much. (sudden laughter) Pauline, my daughter, said, 'Ma, how can you name your dog after Patty Hearst? That was her nickname when she was a terrorist! And I said, 'Why not? She probably stole less than most doctors I've had!'

You ain't lyin' there.

What's your name, young man?

Barry, ma'am. Arnold Barry.

Bailey? Why, I used to live in the Old Mother Bailey house on Thames Street in Groton, Connecticut. You ever hear of it?

No, ma'am. Actually, my name is Bar-

Three presidents visited that house! (laughs) But I'm sure not a one ever visited this cracker box. Poor Mother Bailey caught a spark from the fireplace and died; burned up, poor thing. No Florida retirement for her!

I don't think I-

But when the British were attacking for the second time, the men defending Fort Griswold needed wadding for their cannons; so Mother Bailey straightaway took off her petticoat and gave it to an officer for the fight. Such a thing was unheard of in those days but she became famous for it.  Maybe you're related to her!

Uh, which war was that, ma'am?

Which war? Why, the War of 1812!

Oh, I see. No, I don't believe we're related. In fact, my name-

Don't know your family history, I bet. Just like my grandchildren. All three of them are scattered up north or out west as if the generations before them don't matter. If nobody takes an interest in where they came from, how can they see where it is they're going?

Amen to that, ma'am. Now, I do thank you for the cupcake and you have a very Merry Christmas. (as he is leaving) Be sure to lock the door again.

I will. Don't worry.

Mrs. McCarthy! Where'd you get Ernie Ford?!

What?

That record! That's the original Tennessee Ernie Ford version! My mama used to sing that to us kids. And we'd sing it right back!

Your mama?

Sure. She was in the Baptist church choir in Sweet Water. Alabama. Except we used to sing it a bit faster than Ernie. I mean, Ernie Ford was great, you know, but you got to remember that song is supposed to be full of hope, not sorrow. He just sang it a tad too slow for our taste.

How do you mean?

You gonna have to clap. Can you lean on your cane and still clap?

I don't see why not.

All right, you join in when I pause and you stay one phrase behind. And you clap to your beat, you got that?

Sure, I got it!

BRIGHTLY BURNS...OUR FATHER'S MERCY...FROM HIS LIGHTHOUSE EVERMORE; BUT TO US...HE GIVES THE KEEPING...OF THE LIGHTS...ALONG...THE SHORE...

LET THE LOW...ER LIGHTS BE BURNING...SEND A GLEAM...ACROSS THE WAVE...SOME POOR FAINT...ING, STRUGGLING SEAMAN...YOU MAY RESCUE...YOU MAY SAVE...LET THE LOW...ER LIGHTS BE BURNING...SEND A GLEAM...ACROSS THE WAVE...SOME POOR FAINT...ING, STRUGGLING SEAMAN...YOU MAY RESCUE...YOU...MAY SAVE!!!

Mrs. McCarthy, that was great! Say, you're all right, aren't you?

I was never better! I just never...Oh, never mind. When an old biddy gets to the end of the road, she gets silly.

Now, don't be thinking you at the end of any road. Maybe somebody's sending you a gleam across the wave, but you just not seeing it. Or maybe even now somebody out there is needing your petticoat for packing up cannon balls! My mama died illiterate and poor but anybody needed help, he got it. And she never up and quit. So don't you!

All right! I'll stay around a bit longer just in case somebody out there needs an old lady's petticoat!

That's the spirit, Mrs. McCarthy! Now, I got to run. You take care of yourself. I'll be dropping by from time to time for your cupcakes; so keep some handy.

I will, Mr. Bailey. You are always welcome here.

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Morning of the following day. Living room of the Cracker Box. PAULINE and BEA are sitting at the kitchen table. BEA is eating a grapefruit while PAULINE is drinking coffee and looking over the Christmas cards BEA has displayed on the table.

You certainly got a lot of Christmas cards this year, ma.

You think so?

Sure. Don't you?

I used to get more when I was living in the Old Mother Bailey House. But a lot of the people who sent them have gone...(humorously) for a final cruise.

Well, you still get more than I do.

They just want to be included.

Included in what?

My will.

Don't be silly, ma. They remember you at Christmas because they're your friends.

I didn't get one from Gertie this year.

Ma, your sister Gertie's been dead for years. And you wouldn't speak to her for decades. You're getting confused again.

Gertie died...Yes, that's right. We quarreled over something.

You said you quarreled over your mother's jewelry. She took what you thought should have been yours.

That's right!

That's right...

Aren't we going to be late?

Late for what?

The Care Center bus. It should be stopping for me any minute.

Ma, we agreed you wouldn't go this week, remember? You've just got out of the hospital.

I agreed not to go this week?

Yes. Not until you feel stronger. That's why Amy is spending more time with you this week, remember? If you feel up to it you can go to the Care Center next week.

Well, if you say so, dear. Maybe I really am losing my brains. I don't even remember discussing it. Are you sure we did?

Yes, I'm sure. The bus will pick you up next week.

The lying bus.

The what?

The lying bus. All those old biddies lie about their age. They lie about what they did in life. What they had. Who they knew. They lie about everything. So, for me, it's the lying bus.

How about you?

How about me? What about me?

Do you lie? On the bus?

No!...Well...(softer) no. Sometimes, I do refashion the facts a bit. But that's all.

Refashion the facts?

That's all!

Where's your record?

I put it away.

I thought you liked that song.

I do. But the Tennessee Ernie Ford Version is just a tad too slow for me.

Doesn't the traffic noise bother you? If you would let us clean out the back room for you, it would make a nice sitting room. The sunlight-

My plants are in that room! (softer) Anyway, I can hardly hear the traffic, dear. If it bothers me I can just take my hearing aid out.

The traffic's heavier now because all the snow birds came down To escape the winter.

Paul and I were snow birds once, remember? Anyway, I like to watch the traffic.

Wouldn't you be more comfortable if you moved in with us?

Moved in with you? And Robert? No, Pauline, dear. Look at all the traffic I can watch here. When I was in your house, I counted five cars the whole day! Anyway, I don't want to live in a mobile home. Surrounded by still more mobile homes. Mobile homes are for mobile people - that's not me!

Ma...You know you're beginning to forget things a lot. And you've been mixing up dates lately. A lot.

Is that a crime now?

No. It's just that I'm afraid to leave you alone anymore and-

I'm not alone. Amy's with me.

Amy's with you some of the time. At odd hours. When she can be here. Which isn't the same as when you might need her. We...I want to talk to you again about the Indian River Memorial Estates.

A nursing home?

It's a very good nursing home. I brought a brochure. It's almost like living in your own apartment. You could-

I'd rather be dead.

Ma...

It's Robert who wants me in a nursing home, isn't it?

Ma, Bob and I both want what's best for you. If you fall again and there's nobody around...

If I fall again you won't have to take me to early bird specials on Sundays, anymore. It's all right; I never wanted to eat so early, anyway - it's not natural. Early bird specials and senior citizen discounts and cataract implants and hearing aids and aches and pains. The Golden Years. Hah!

All right, ma. I've got to get to the bank and then do some shopping.

I'll leave the brochure here. Please look at it at least, OK? Is Amy coming tonight?

Yes, dear. But I'll be fine with or without her. (BEA also gets up) You know my motto: "Fight on, brave heart!"

We'll stop by tomorrow before we leave for Miami.

Goodbye, dear.

Bye, ma.

Granny-dumping made easy. Over my dead body.

One less nursing home brochure the world has to worry about.

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Early evening. Living room of the Cracker Box. BEA is on the couch watching television. The sound is loud. The curtains are open. Suddenly, the phone rings and the light bulb on top of the set begins blinking. BEA uses the remote control to turn off the television. SHE picks up the phone. The bulb stops blinking.

Hello...Hello! Wait just a minute.

Hello?...Alice. Oh, hello, Alice...I'm doing OK for an old biddy, I guess. I shouldn't complain. We have to make each day count. God gave us-...Helen? Helen died? When?...I know her heart wasn't good but...(Bea's eyes well with tears) but she was only 82!...Her daughter? Let me think for a minute. I know she had a daughter in...in Arizona, I think it was. Tucson...I don't have the number. The church will have it. Or the Council on Aging...All right, dear...Lord bless and keep you, too. Alice! What about Fluffy?...Oh. Well, did you ask Mary yet?...Well, don't ask her just yet, will you? You know my little Tanya died last year and maybe I could take care of Fluffy...Let me call my daughter. Then I'll call you back...All right, goodbye, dear.

Hello, Robert. Is Pauline there...Hi, dear, it's me...I'm fine. But I have some bad news. Helen died...Alice called to tell me the news. It was her heart. Only eighty-two...I just saw her last Thursday. Now she's gone...I know, dear. I know. But, Pauline, you know, Helen has Fluffy...You know, dear, the half Pekinese and half Poodle...That's right, dear, the Peekapoo. And I was thinking, since Tanya died, I haven't...I know we talked about it before, dear...I didn't forget...You think a playful dog like that might knock me over. Well...I guess you're right, dear. It could be dangerous if it trips me...Robert doesn't want me to have a dog, does he? All right, dear, I know I'm not being fair. Both of you wish me the best, I know that. I know you're thinking only of me...

That's right, Pauline, how would I take it out when it needs to go? I guess I just can't stand being old and useless. Why the dickens am I still here?...All right, dear. I'll talk to you tomorrow...I love you too, darling. Get a good rest.

Hello, Alice. It's Beatrice...You know, dear, I don't think I could take Fluffy, after all. At my age even a small dog might be too much...I know, dear, I know. Mary will love him very much. Goodbye, Alice. And keep well and happy.

Robert. I just wanted to let you know that the ancient Egyptians are alive and well in Vero Beach.

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Afternoon of the following day. BEA is sitting on the couch while AMY is searching for something on the kitchen table. AMY has some discoloration around one eye. ROBERT is checking behind the curtains while BEA attempts to turn to watch him. After several seconds of this, PAULINE enters from the bedroom.

Well, there's nothing in the bureau drawers and I can't find them in the hat boxes. Anything behind the curtains?

Nothing behind the curtains this time.

Ma, would you please tell me why you have to hide everything?

I just wanted to keep the keys safe. What if someone came here when I was alone?

Ma, your bank box key wouldn't be of any use to a thief, anyway. He can't sign your name to get into your bank box. So why hide the keys?

Why can't he sign my name?

'Beatrice Ider McCarthy?' Don't you think the people at the bank know-

I found the water bill.

Ma, you've got to stop hiding things. Once you do it you can't remember where you hid anything. It costs money to replace your bank books and now we'll have to replace the keys as well. And you can't tell me it makes any sense for you to hide bills; thieves won't pay them for you, if that's what you're worried about.

I know, dear. I'm just a silly old biddy whose body has outlived my brain.

Don't talk like that, ma. That's not true. But from now on I'm going to have all bills sent to my house.

I pay my own bills!

Don't worry. I'll bring them here and you can make out a check and I'll mail it for you. I can't spend anymore afternoons looking for money and bills and keys that you've hidden.

Is that so?

Yes, ma, that is so.

I may have to change my will.

Ma, I don't care if you want to leave me out of your will, but each time you change it, it costs you money.

That's right; money you and Robert won't get. Isn't that what-

Don't you dare accuse me of being after your money! Do you think I'd spend half my life looking after you if I didn't love you?

Well, if you love me, stop hurting me.

All right. You think about it and if you still want to change it when we get back from our trip then I'll take you to the lawyer's.

Bea, I cleaned the rear window of the Rambler.

What'd you do that for? I don't drive!

I know that but if anyone sees the car from the road at least they'll see a clean window. Maybe they'll think someone's home.

There is someone home!

Ma, why don't you let him put the new license plate on the car for you? People see that old license plate and they'll know the car hasn't been on the road for years.

That was the license plate on the car when your father died!

Well...(resigned) All right, ma, have it your way.

Why don't you let us sell the car for you? It's just a pile of rusted junk, sitting there like that.

Pile of rusted junk?! That's all original. Those are all original parts!

Now, Bea, don't get so excited. They only want to help.

They only want to take over.

Hush. Nobody wants to take over.

Ma, have you been wearing this when you walk in the yard?

It doesn't work outside the house.

Bea Bea, you know that isn't true. If you fall in the yard and you got this on, all you got to do is press the button and an ambulance will get here in no time.

The range is good up to 25 feet outside the house. Ma, please wear this when you go out. All right?

I'm not a dog. I don't want to wear a dog collar.

Amy, you talk to her about this after we go, would you?

Mrs. Lawson, I have talked to her about wearing that thing around her neck until I got hoarse. But, don't worry, I'll talk to her again.

What about your listenaider?

What?

Your listenaider! Do you wear it to watch TV?

Dear, you don't have to shout. I'm right here.

The earphones give me a headache. And the sound is metallic. I can hear the TV all right without it. Don't worry about me.

Does she still cry about her dog much?

All the time.

All right. The best thing is to change the subject as soon as she starts to talk about it.

Oh, I know, ma'am. I do. And she changes it back.

I'm glad you're here, Amy. I don't know what we'd do without you. My mother's not an easy woman to get along with. She fired the last three assistants we got her.

She's a very difficult woman, Mrs. Lawson, you're not wrong about that. But there's something about her that makes me want to take real good care of her.

Hey! What are you two whispering about? Whatever it is the answer is no!

I put a jack in the TV set but the diaphragm in the earphones burned out because she kept the volume at full blast. Twenty-five dollars down the drain. She's just not responsible, anymore.

I have a surprise for you, Pauline, dear.

Surprise?

Amy, would you bring it out?

Cupcakes!

Bea made them all by herself, Mrs. Lawson. She wanted to do something for you and your husband before you left.

Ma, that's very nice. We'll take them with us and-

No! Let's have them now.

Thanks, ma. Amy, you have one, then I'll give one to Robert.

I'll give one to Mr. Lawson.

I'm not a cripple. I can do it. Help me up.

I wouldn't want you to miss out.

Thank you.

They're very good, ma.

Not bad for an old, old gal. My special recipe.

Your Christmas cactus will be blooming soon.

Yes, dear. It's never missed a year. Just like me. But I might not be with it this Christmas.

Don't you worry, Bea Bea, you'll be with us for many Christmases to come.

Don't be too sure. I might be going on my own special cruise soon. (SHE points upward) One way...But maybe it's true: things with thorns last a long time; like me.

Your flowers outside by the window are doing well. Florida's bleeding heart is all along the back of the house now.

My dear, I am Florida's Bleeding Heart. Transplanted from New Hampshire to Connecticut to Vero Beach!

That may be but I still say you'll be with us for many Christmases to come.

Pauline, dear, are you and Robert flying part of the way?

Yes, we're flying from Miami to the islands and back to Miami. But we'll be on a cruise to several islands.

Would you mind if I give you some money to buy travel insurance?

You mean in case we have to cancel? But we're going now.

No, dear, I mean, in case something happens to you. You know, you can buy insurance at the airport.

You want to take out accident insurance? On us?!

I'll give you the money.

But, ma, suppose something did happen to us. What would you do with the money?

...Take a cruise, I guess.

Now, Beatrice McCarthy, what kind of talk is that? A 96-year-old woman wants to take out accident insurance on her daughter and son-in-law? Sometimes I wonder about you. How would you feel if something really happened to them?

If something really happened to them?

Yes.

I would be very, very sad.

So there you are.

And if I've got to be very, very sad, why can't I also be very, very rich?

You are some piece of work, Bea Bea.

Then I could buy a beautiful, fluffy dog!

Ma, we would love for you to have a dog. But we're afraid it would be too much for you.

Bea Bea, if you take a dog for a walk and it jumps up on you, you'll totter over like an old oak tree. Then where will you be?

In an old oak coffin, I guess.

Ma, have you been taking your Lenoxin?

Yes, dear.

And your calcium pills?

Yes, dear, my old bones are bulging with calcium. Amy doesn't let me forget.

But Amy won't be with you all the time we're gone and if you forget to punch the reset button again you'll get the police and ambulance here again.

I'll remember, dear. I just forgot that night because that was the night Helen died.

That wasn't the-

Shhh!

She gets confused sometimes.

Poor Helen. My best friend is dead and my poor dog is dead. (giving in to tears) I still cry each and every day for my Tanya. How I dearly loved her; and my love was returned!

Did you get the hospital report yet?

Not a word! They sent the bill right away! If they don't hurry up with the report I might not be here when it comes. Then their report won't matter and their bill won't be paid! Won't they be sorry! They'll say the little old lady put one over on them!

Don't worry. They won't forget you. Where are your Christmas cards?

They're on the table. One from Paul's sister. She always reminded me so much of my dear old Aunt Betta. Do you remember, dear?

She died before I was born, didn't she?

I used to visit them in New London when I was a child. Aunt Betta and Uncle Max. I really loved her. Uncle Max had a bakery. I guess the nice old place they had with the baking ovens is no more. That's for sure. My mind goes back to the nice warm bakery shop though. I can still see it. I can still smell the bread. It was always warm there. I think no matter how very old one gets somehow they think of their childhood days. Some day before...before I leave, I must visit there.

We've got to get going. Once we hit the Miami area, the traffic-

I really loved Aunt Betta. Uncle Max was nice too. But he was a little crabby. They had a son, William, who went to war and never returned.

Which war?

What, dear?

Which war?! Which war did their son William go off to and never return from?

The First World War!

It's getting late!

All right. Ma, we have to go now.

What, dear?

We're going now.

All right, dear. (near tears) I might not be here when you get back.

Bea McCarthy, you stop worrying your daughter like that. Don't you worry, Mrs. Lawson, I'll make sure she's right here and in good health when you get back.

Hey! Are you my doctor?

If I have to be.

OK, now, you know what to do if you need help, right?

Yes, dear, I know. Send up a smoke signal.

Very funny. Just remember if you're away you slide this to this side, and when you're home, you slide it to this side. This is your emergency button and this is the one you press twice a day. Now, don't forget to reset it!

I know, dear. Now, hurry up, or you'll miss your ship.

The point is we'll be away and Amy won't always be here. If you do as you should I won't have to worry.

Don't worry, dear. I will.

Amy, I left the number of the travel agent by the phone. And my cellphone number.  But I don't know if you can get me where I'll be.  Please try to get us if it's an emergency.

I will, Mrs. Lawson. You enjoy your cruise. You too, Mr. Lawson.

Thanks, Amy. Goodbye, Bea.

Goodbye, Robert. Goodbye, Pauline.

And remember: No raking and no climbing on anything to reach anything!

I know, dear. Now, go! Go!

They should have found sixty dollars.

What sixty dollars, Bea?

I had sixty dollars pinned to the back of the curtain. Three twenty dollar bills.

Are you sure, Bea? I think maybe you're getting confused.

(As AMY moves about, BEA turns to stare at her)

No, Amy, I think maybe you're getting confused.

Bea, I do wish you'd let Mr. Lawson take out these scatter rugs. He said he'd gladly put in a wall-to-wall carpet for you.

No, thank you.

But they're dangerous. They could slip out from under you again.

You're the one who keeps tripping on them; not me...Besides, my little Tanya loved to sleep on them; when the sun came in. She was a joy to me...And now she's buried under the bleeding heart plant in the back yard...That rug was her cracker box.

Well, the rugs are dirty as well as dangerous. I still can't get them very clean.

My poor Tanya was never completely housebroken. That's why. Sometimes I wasn't well enough to take her out. That's not her fault!

I'm not saying it's anybody's fault. Just that I still can't get them clean. And that you might slip on one of them and sit down hard. It wouldn't be so bad if you'd wear your necklace with the button.

It's not a necklace, it's a neck chain. Do you see any "lace" on that?

Whatever it's made of is a lot less important than what it could do for you if you ever need it!

Dogs wear chains around their necks; not people. My dog is gone; am I supposed to take her place?

At least you should wear it when you're out in the yard. If you fall and I'm not here, how will you get up?

The last time a man helped me up.

That's right. A truck driver saw you fall and rushed over to help you up. And just as soon as you were back on your feet, what did you do? Do you remember?

...I guess I must have thanked him.

Huh! You glared at him and said, "What are you doing on my property?!"

Oh, yes. I remember now...Well, he was on my property.

Only to help you!

What's that Pauline was saying about hanging something?

Just some signs she wrote reminding you to punch the reset button. She asked me to put them up in the bathroom to help you remember.

In the back room?

In the bathroom. To help you remember! Is your hearing aid in?

I just took it out. I think that's what gave me my ear infection.

Oh, that's right. It's time for your drops. I'll get the mail first.

Do you want me to put up a sign for you to remember when it's time for my ear drops?

Quit your kiddin', Bea Bea.

You got your social security check. And more Christmas cards. And this looks like the breakdown you've been waiting for of your hospital bill. (She hands them to BEA) I didn't see your church paper though. Is it today or tomorrow it comes? What's it called?

"The Circuit Rider." The paper of the First United Methodist church.

"The Circuit Rider." That's it. When do you get it?

Are they driving all the way to Miami?

Yes, Bea.

That's a long way.

Well, they should make their ship in plenty of time.

They may have to stop on the way.

What on earth for? Oh, you mean for gas?

Who can say?

Now, what in heavens is the bread doing out of the bread box? And what is this gunky mess in this bowl? You been making something else? (SHE tastes a bit on the tip of a finger) It tastes like chocolate. (SHE picks up a small box beside the bowl) Exlax! (holding the Exlax box) Bea, aren't you goin' regular?

I go with the flow.

So why is this box of Exlax next to this bowl with Exlax in it?

That isn't Exlax in the bowl. It's what you said it was: chocolate.

So, why- Oh, my God!

What happened?

Bea McCarthy, you're not sayin' that you did what I think you're sayin'.

I didn't say I did anything.

You scraped off the chocolate frosting on that cupcake and you replaced it with Exlax! And you gave it to your son-in-law! Didn't you?

If I did, it's only because I'm not responsible anymore!

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The following morning. Living room of the Cracker Box. BEA and AMY sit on the couch, going over a detailed report of BEA's stay in the hospital which arrived in the previous day's mail.

They charged for every little thing!

That should teach you not to try and rake the yard, anymore.

Room and board was two hundred and sixty dollars a day. That I understand. What's next?

"Emergency room fee: seventy-seven fifty." "Urinalysis: twenty-eight fifty." "Chem profile." Whatever that is they list five of them. All at different prices.

"Oxygen saturation test." I don't remember that.

I don't see how anybody lying sick in a hospital bed can remember everything the doctors and nurses did to them.

So how do I know they're not cheating me?

You don't. But your daughter said she'll send it to Medicare and what Medicare doesn't pay, Blue Cross might.

"Furosemide 20 milligram tablet: One dollar!" I'll bet it cost them ten cents!

Bea, why don't you wait until your daughter-

"Occult blood stool! Thirty-two seventy-five." "Occult?!" Am I a ghost already?

That's probably only a medical term. They turn a lot of words around so folks like us can't understand them.

What's this at the top of the page?

Where?

Underneath where it says, "Vero Beach Memorial Hospital."

"Patient bill detail transactions."

No. Under that.

It says, "Cycle, Final." What about it?

You told me I had completed eight cycles. They're telling me it's the final one.

Oh, Bea, don't be silly. Whatever they mean by "cycle" isn't the same as your cycles. Those are just computer billing terms.

I hope you never have to go to the hospital. They charge for every little thing. If I sneezed and a nurse said, "God bless you, Mrs. McCarthy," it's on the bill.

Now, Bea, you're exaggerating.

It says here there's an enclosed doctor's report. (She looks through the envelope) There's nothing else in here.

They must have forgotten to send it.

Do you want me to call the hospital and ask them about it?

No, dear. Don't worry about it now. There isn't any rush. Besides, I don't want to burden you with every little thing. (takes her hand) (tearfully) You see, now that Helen died, you are my best friend.

Are you crying?

Bea Bea, I can't work here, anymore.

What are you talking about?

That's your money, Bea Bea. I found it hidden behind the curtains. I didn't mention it because it wasn't my business where you put things. But I mentioned it to my husband; about how you always hide money and everything, and how, when I was dustin', I found sixty dollars. And he ordered me to take that money. I never should have opened my big mouth. Anyway, we fought about it and that's how I got this black eye.

I thought you said you fell on your porch.

I lied...Now you can call the police if you like.

What does an old biddy like me need with sixty dollars? You better give this to your husband.

Bea, I can't take this. It belongs to you. I was about to take advantage of a ninety-six-year old woman; what kind of person am I?

What kind of person am I if I let you get another black eye? All for sixty dollars?

Bea, I don't want, I can't-

You take this money to your husband and give it to him. Then...one day...we will invite him round to the Cracker Box and I will bake him some cupcakes with my special recipe.

............................................................................................

Living room of the Cracker Box. Several hours later. Early morning about 4:30 a.m. As in the first scene, AMY, fully dressed, is asleep on the couch. Her magazine and shoes are on the floor.

BEA, in nightgown and slippers, enters from the bedroom. She walks slowly toward the couch. She lifts her cane up in the air, preparing to drop it. She stares at AMY for several seconds, then brings the cane down without dropping it. She drapes the couch cover over AMY, then slowly walks back toward the bedroom.

............................................................................................

It is evening of the same day. BEA is sitting at the kitchen table having her evening tea and crackers. AMY enters from the bedroom. SHE walks to the kitchen and holds up girdles to show BEA.

Bea, can I throw some of these out?

Throw them out? What are you talking about? Those are my girdles.

Bea Bea, you never wear these things. Besides, they're for a much larger woman than you.

Well, once upon a time, I was a much larger woman! Why do you want to throw them out?

We need the room! Your closets are so full I can't get another thing inside them.

Well, leave them on the couch. I'll look them over later.

What about the box full of old cards and letters beside the hat boxes?

What about it?

Can I throw it out?

First my girdles, now my correspondence. Am I next?

All right, Bea Bea. Forget I asked.

Why do you want to take away an old lady's past?

I'm just trying to make some room for an old lady's present. Some of these letters are thirty years old!

Then they're antiques. Like me.

You are one person who shouldn't be buying more stuff at yard sales. I'm thinking your daughter should have stopped you long ago.

She tried. But I like to buy some little thing when I go to a sale. Anyway, every dollar spent is a dollar Robert won't get.

That's not very nice, Bea. Your son-in-law is not after your money and you know it.

I think sometimes God makes two people who just weren't meant to get along.

Now just why do you suppose he would go and do a thing like that?

How should I know? Maybe it keeps him from being bored!

I saw you last night, Bea Bea.

Last night? When?

When you came out to see if I was awake or not.

I slept like a log last night. You must have been dreaming.

Bea McCarthy, I never seen a person so afraid of being called soft.

Softies don't make it into their nineties.

Well, like it or not, you were soft last night.

Didn't you know cats sometimes purr just before they die?

Now, you hush up that kind of talk. You got a long way to go before anybody could accuse you of purrin'!

I've got to go now, Bea.

Are you all packed?

I'm only taking what's in this bag. That's enough. The bus to Savannah leaves in half an hour. But it's never been on time yet.

All right, dear. Don't disappoint your mother by missing your bus. I do hope she's feeling much better.

The doctor says he's still taking tests on her. You know, Bea, I could be away for two full days, so the Council-on-Aging will call you tomorrow night. And if I'm not back by then, they'll send another woman. Still, I wish I didn't have to leave you alone.

It's an emergency. You can't help it. Besides, if I can't fend for myself for 48 hours, I shouldn't be taking up space on God's earth. And, don't forget, I've got my lifeline.

All right. Well, if there's anything you want me to get for you at the store before I go, say so now.

I don't need a thing...Well, maybe there is one thing you can do for me.

Sure. What?

Take my rake down from that nail.

Bea Bea, I told you. You stay away from that rake.

What is this?

The doctor's report. From the hospital.

I thought you said the hospital forgot to include it with the bill.

I lied.

"Metastases. Car...carcinoma." What's that mean?

It means I don't have to wait with my clothes off in some fool doctor's office anymore if I don't want to. It means if I fall taking care of my property, it's a lot better way to go than going by what other way is waiting in the wings for me.

Bea...I didn't know.

Well, now you do. So before you go, I'd like you to take my rake down from the nail and leave it where I can get at it.

Bea, you know I...I can't do that. You might-

Might what? Might avoid a painful, lingering death like my husband had? Might avoid a nursing home? Might avoid having to do any more original oil paintings? That's right, I might. But all I intend to do is to clear pine cones and pine needles off my lawn. Period!

Promise me you won't go near the sidewalk.

I promise I won't go near the sidewalk - unless there are pine cones and pine needles on it.

Bea, you listen here.

No, Amy, you listen here. Raking out there is part of living my life. Just because I'm old doesn't mean I care about my dignity any less than anyone else. Don't you think dignity is worth fighting for?

I'll tell you what I think, Bea Bea. What I think is that you would make a perfect alligator wrestler: "brave and a risk-taker." And I think that for you, at your age and in your condition, raking pine needles on a lawn is like a soldier on a battlefield under fire; and it takes the same kind of courage.

Goodbye, Bea Bea. You...you take care of yourself.

I will, dear. Now, go. Don't miss your bus.

Who commands this fort?...I did, sir, but...No! Not a surrender! Not this time! I've still got some petticoats left. Let's fight!

Tennessee Ernie Ford sings Let the Lower Lights be Burning on Youtube:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jq9sYx2mVI

The main stage area consists of the interior of two rooms (living room and kitchen) and a glimpse into the interior of a car port - all part of Beatrice McCarthy's house, a small Florida ranch-style house spoken of by her as "The Cracker Box."

The living room at stage right should take up about half the width of the stage, then the kitchen and, finally, at stage left, enough of the car port to display at least the rear of a rusting Rambler and some tools.

A kind of scrim might be stretched across upstage. Headstones of a cemetery will be projected upon it in scene 4, and the suggestion of a bedroom will appear behind it in scene 2.

The living room is cluttered with a lifetime accumulation of bric-a-brac and knickknacks on tables and shelves. Bea McCarthy is not the type of woman to throw anything away.

At extreme right is the doorway to the (off stage) bedroom. In the middle of the living room, against the rear wall and facing the audience, is a couch. It is covered with a tasseled old bedspread. This is where BEA sits watching television or turning around to look out the picture window above the couch, where she can see the backyard and the road beyond. However, as the play opens, it is 4:30 a.m. and the curtains (printed with a colorful fish-and-seashell pattern) are closed.

There is a table at each end of the couch. On one is a small Christmas tree, its tiny multi-colored lights blinking on and off. Beside it is a large pair of porcelain hands, palms together with fingertips touching in the position of prayer. On the other table is an African Violet, a table lamp and a phone. Beneath the phone and connected to it is a black box. This box is BEA's "lifeline," a direct line to a local hospital which can send a signal in case of emergency.

Tables and shelves are crowded with more plants, family photographs of several generations and everything from shell vases to imitation Hummel figures.

Above the shelves, (on sections of rear walls at each side of the picture window), are three items: A large blue-and-pink sea horse in profile; a drawing entitled, "The Sea," consisting of outlines of shells and fish, filled in by BEA with various oil colors; and, finally, an enormous color photograph of a Chihuahua's face frozen in an uncomprehending, somewhat anxious, expression. Below it is a hand-printed message:

Scatter rugs have indelible stains from the recently deceased and never completely housebroken Chihuahua.

A television set is at extreme downstage right facing the couch. On top of the set is a light bulb, connected by wire to the phone across the room, and which blinks on and off when the phone rings.

The wall separating the living room and kitchen runs about two-thirds of the way downstage then turns toward stage left and stops about half way to the car port. The bottom of this L-shaped divider runs parallel with the front of the stage and between its shelves with potted plants and still more knickknacks is a see-thru passage into the kitchen. In front of this divider (downstage center) is a kitchen table crammed with a display of Christmas cards as well as a bread basket, jars of preserves and a bowl of Florida oranges. In the small kitchen (which we can see to the right of the shelves as well as through them) are the usual appliances including a stove, counter, sink, shelves and refrigerator.

The front door of the house is a small door with louvered windows and a lace curtain at downstage left.

Beside the kitchen at stage left is the car port. Taking up most of the space of this car port is a rusted, corroded, mildewed and pitted 1966 Rambler. Its faded color is now somewhere between blue and green. The car's rear is facing the audience and all four of its tires are flat. The car's license plate reads:

To the right of the Rambler, upstage, is a wheel barrow, and at stage left of the Rambler is a clutter of tools including a hand mower, hoe, shovel, broom and stepladder. Several small tools, all old and unused for decades, such as hammers and saws, are hanging on nails along a ceiling beam running from left to right across the downstage garage. Most important, hanging in the center of these tools, there is a rake. It is heavy and old-fashioned. It has a long cylindrical metal handle and long flexible metal tines, each tine curved inward at the end.

THE CRACKER BOX is a comedy/drama about an elderly and eccentric widow which offers some new perspectives and insights into the real and imagined fears of growing old. For starters, the widow's antagonists are not spring chickens themselves; and her solutions to a host of common problems are uncommonly humorous and original. Although the story evokes laughter along the way, its finest moments come in the widow's unusual and touching definition of courage and personal dignity.

Although in her 90's, BEA McCARTHY insists on living alone in her own tiny house in Vero Beach, Florida, disparagingly referred to by her as her "Cracker Box." She is assisted part-time by AMY, an employee of the Council-on-aging and by her daughter and son-in-law. Her animosity toward her son-in-law is unreasonable and excessive but not without its humorous moments.

BEA's son-in-law would very much like to have BEA move to a retirement community for elderly people. BEA refuses to even consider the idea of losing her precious independence. But BEA is not always able to take care of herself and taking care of her places an enormous strain on her daughter. Therefore, her son-in-law's wish is not unreasonable. This is not a play of good vs. evil but, rather, a play exploring the difficulty of good people not finding an easy solution to the problem of old age.

Above all, THE CRACKER BOX is not a play about death; BEA McCARTHY very much wants to live - but she also insists that she be allowed to take risks to live with dignity. For her, at her age and in her condition, her determination to rake pine needles on her lawn takes the same kind of courage and valor as soldiers under fire on a battlefield. By the end of the play, AMY understands that BEA must be allowed to take some risks and BEA begins to understand the pain of others as well as how better to deal with her own.

The only "prop" necessary for the play is the Tennessee Ernie Ford recording of "Let the Lower Lights be Burning."

Copyright 2015 Dean Barrett