Sam Shepard - The god of hell - a play

WELCH

: Yes. Well, let’s just say six then.

EMMA

: With the basement?

WELCH

: That’s right. Anyone down there?

EMMA

: What?

WELCH

: In the basement. Anyone down there now in the basement?

EMMA

: No—why would there be?

WELCH

: Well, it’s not my house, Emma. How am I supposed to know who’s down there in your basement or why they would be?

EMMA

: There’s nobody down in my basement and how do you know my name?

(WELCH moves toward basement stairs .)

WELCH

: You’re sure there’s no one down there? Right now, as we speak?

EMMA

: I would like you to leave, please! I would like you to get the heck out of my house! You’re making me very nervous.

(WELCH stops abruptly, turns to her, and smiles .)

WELCH

: Of course.

EMMA

: Now!

(WELCH goes quickly to counter, grabs his case, and heads for door . EMMA stops him .)

Wait a second. Do you have a card or something? Some kind of identification? A name?

(WELCH stops with his back to her .)

WELCH

: I couldn’t help noticing your flagpole out front.

EMMA

: What?

WELCH

: Your flagpole.

EMMA

: What about it?

WELCH

: (

turning to her with a smile

) It’s empty. Barren. Just the raw wind slapping the naked ropes around. Sickening sound.

EMMA

: So what?

WELCH

: Well, Emma, this is Wisconsin, isn’t it? I’m not in Bulgaria or Turkistan or somewhere lost in the Balkans. I’m in Wisconsin. Taxidermy and cheese! Part of the U.S. of A. You told me that yourself.

EMMA

: What are you driving at?

WELCH

: You’d think there would be a flag up or something to that effect. Some sign. Some indication of loyalty and pride.

EMMA

: Loyalty? To Wisconsin?

WELCH

: (

pacing through room

) Nothing in here either. Not even one small token in the home. No miniature Mount Rushmore, Statue of Liberty, no weeping bald eagles clutching arrows. Nothing like that. We could be anywhere.

EMMA

: We’re not anywhere.

WELCH

: Well, you and I know that, Emma, but what about the rest of the world? What about the people driving by—the Everyday Joes? Wouldn’t they like to look up here and be reminded of their proud heritage?

EMMA

: I don’t know about the rest of the world.

WELCH

: What’s that dripping sound?

EMMA

: What?

WELCH

: That dripping.

EMMA

: Oh, I just watered the plants. They’re dripping.

WELCH

: I see. You have some sort of empathy with plants, I suppose?

EMMA

: I like them, yes. Especially through the winter.

WELCH

: I imagine it can get pretty grim out here in January.

EMMA

: You have no idea.

(WELCH goes to couch, sets his case down on it, and pops it open .)

WELCH

: Well, there are many ways to brighten a place up, Emma—we have a wide variety of patriotic paraphernalia available.

EMMA

: I wish you wouldn’t call me by my name. It’s very confusing.

WELCH

: Why is that?

EMMA

: Well, it feels as though I should know you, but I don’t know you.

WELCH

: You could know me.

EMMA

: I don’t.

WELCH

: You could get to know me.

EMMA

: I don’t want to get to know you!

WELCH

: Just take a look at what we have here, Emma.

( He pulls out an accordion string of small American flags from his case and holds it up for EMMA.)

A starter kit of your basic grassroots flag and decal ensemble. Five ninety-five for the full set of six. Then, from there, you can move right on up to the Proud Patriot package for twelve fifty, which includes banners, whistles, parade equipment, fireworks—complete with a brand-new remixed CD of Pat Boone singing the “Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

EMMA

: No! No, thank you!

WELCH

: This also qualifies you for a forty percent discount on a brand-new red, white, and blue bullhorn in three unique sizes.

EMMA

: No!! I am not in the market!

( Pause . WELCH folds up the string of flags and puts it back in case .)

WELCH

: Not in the market. Not in the market. Well—you don’t know how disappointed certain influential parties are going to be about this, Emma. You have no idea.

EMMA

: Who are you, anyway? What is your name? What are you doing in my house?

WELCH

: Your house—yes—did you say six rooms?

EMMA

: What?

WELCH

: Here in the house. Six rooms?

EMMA

: Well—including the basement.

WELCH

: Including the basement. That’s right. And you’re sure there’s no one down there?

EMMA

: Yes, I am—sure.

WELCH

: Swear on a stack of bibles?

EMMA

: I don’t have to—

WELCH

: Good-bye, Emma.

( He snaps the case shut and abruptly exits front door .)

EMMA

: What? Wait a minute! Hey!

( She watches WELCH cross past the window outside and disappear off left. She runs out on the porch and rings the old school bell for FRANK. She yells out to FRANK across the frozen fields .)

Frank!! Frank! Come on up here, would ya, Frank!

( She comes back into the house, pauses, and looks around, slightly stunned, trying to figure out the whole encounter with WELCH. She goes back out on porch and rings bell again. Calls out to FRANK.)

Frank!! Come on up here!

( She stops ringing bell and waves vigorously for FRANK to come up to the house. She comes back into the house and crosses to the basement staircase. She yells down to their guest .)

Mr. Haynes! Mr. Haynes, are you up yet? I’m making breakfast, if you’re interested! Bacon. Crispy bacon.

( No answer. She goes to stove and resumes frying up bacon. She calls out again from stove in a singsong voice .)

Oh, Mr. Haynes!

(FRANK appears outside on porch, stomping his feet to get the snow and mud off . EMMA jumps at the sound . FRANK enters .)

FRANK

: (

slightly winded from the hike

) Why’d you ring the bell?

(EMMA turns and crosses to him. She looks out the windows .)

EMMA

: There was a man here. Did you see him?

FRANK

: A man?

EMMA

: Yeah. Did you see him?

FRANK

: I was graining the heifers.

EMMA

: A man came up here to the house. He was wearing a suit—briefcase. You didn’t see him?

FRANK

: I didn’t see any man. Nope. You called me all the way up here to the house—

EMMA

: He was just here. He must’ve gone right past you.

FRANK

: What’d he want?

EMMA

: He just showed up outa the blue. Just walked right in. I thought maybe you had an appointment with him or something.

FRANK

: An appointment?

EMMA

: Yeah.

FRANK

: An appointment.

EMMA

: That’s what I said!

FRANK

: When was the last time you can remember me having an appointment?

(FRANK moves to couch, sits, and removes his boots, then tosses them out on mud porch. He wriggles his toes inside his socks to warm them up .)

I could be down there graining my heifers.

EMMA

: Well, what do you suppose he wanted?

FRANK

: I didn’t see any man.

EMMA

: He knew my name.

FRANK

: Well, what’d he say?

EMMA

: Wanted to know how many rooms there were in the house.

FRANK

: This house?

EMMA