Sam Shepard: The god of hell: a play

: Yes. This house—our house.

FRANK

: Well, what’d you tell him?

EMMA

: Five, I said. Then he corrected me.

FRANK

: He corrected you?

EMMA

: Yeah. He said there was six—including the basement.

FRANK

: Well, that’s true enough, I guess. If you call the basement a room.

EMMA

: Now you’re taking his side.

FRANK

: I don’t even know this guy.

(FRANK gets up and crosses to stove in his stocking feet, moves the bacon around with fork .)

EMMA

: Why would he care about the house? How many rooms there are.

FRANK

: You got me.

EMMA

: Maybe he wants to buy it.

FRANK

: This bacon looks burnt.

EMMA

: You didn’t see him go by on your way back up?

FRANK

: Nope.

EMMA

: I don’t see how you could have missed him. You didn’t see any car?

FRANK

: Yeah, I saw a car.

EMMA

: You did?

FRANK

: (

forking bacon

) Yeah—I saw a couple cars.

EMMA

: Two?

FRANK

: Is Graig up yet?

EMMA

: No—no, I don’t think so. I yelled down to him but—

(FRANK crosses to top of basement stairs and yells down .)

FRANK

: Graig! Graig, get your sorry ass up here if you want some breakfast! This isn’t a boardinghouse! Rise and shine!

(FRANK returns to stove and bacon .)

How’d you manage to burn this bacon, anyway?

EMMA

: Frank—there were two cars?

FRANK

: What?

EMMA

: Two cars out there?

FRANK

: I don’t know, Emma. Two or three. What difference does it make?

EMMA

: Three?

FRANK

: I wasn’t counting!

EMMA

: Where were they?

FRANK

: On the road.

EMMA

: Out front?

FRANK

: Yes! On the road, out front. What’s the matter with you? That’s what cars do. They go up and down on the road, out front. Where else would they go?

EMMA

: Well, so they could’ve just been plain old ordinary everyday cars then, couldn’t they? Just passersby

FRANK

: As opposed to what?

EMMA

: Government cars.

FRANK

: Government cars?

EMMA

: Dark cars. Suspicious. Tinted windows. Unmarked Chevys. Black antennas bowed over. That kind of thing.

FRANK

: Where do you get this stuff?

EMMA

: I know, Frank. I’m not uninformed. I know about this stuff.

FRANK

: I was feeding my heifers. I didn’t notice what cars they were or if their antennas were bowed over.

EMMA

: Did you catch their license plates?

FRANK

: When I’m feeding the heifers, time stands still for me. Nothing else exists.

(HAYNES, their guest, is suddenly standing at the top of the basement stair landing in a plaid bathrobe, rubbing the morning crust out of his eyes .)

HAYNES

: Morning—

(EMMA jumps slightly, turns toward him .)

FRANK

: Get enough sleep?

HAYNES

: Was somebody ringing a bell up here?

(EMMA crosses to HAYNES, enthusiastically .)

EMMA

: Oh, yes, that was me. We have a bell—Frank’s told me so much about you. I was asleep when you came in last night. I’m so sorry I didn’t stay up to meet you.

HAYNES

: Oh, that’s all right.

EMMA

: I’m Emma—

( As EMMA gets closer to HAYNES, he backs up slightly, holding his hand out timidly, and as soon as EMMA touches his hand to shake it, a bright blue flash of light emanates from HAYNES ’s fingers . EMMA screams and jumps back . HAYNES shakes his hand violently as though it were severely burned .)

What was that! ( to FRANK) Did you see that? What the heck was that?

HAYNES

: Static shock. I’m sorry. I apologize. I never know quite how to explain this.

EMMA

: Static shock?

HAYNES

: Yes. That’s what it is. It gets worse and worse each year. Especially in the winter. Maybe it’s the ozone or something.

EMMA

: Ozone?

HAYNES

: I don’t know. I’m very sorry.

EMMA

: Oh, you don’t have to apologize. You can’t help it, I guess. I’m assuming—

HAYNES

: No, it’s true—I can’t.

EMMA

: I’ve just never seen anything quite like that. I mean, I’ve had static shock before, but—rugs and doorknobs and stuff, but—

FRANK

: Yeah, that’s pretty impressive, Graig. You pick that up out there in Colorado or something?

(FRANK crosses to couch, chewing bacon and carrying coffee .)

EMMA

: Would you like some bacon, Mr. Haynes? And coffee—there’s coffee too. Help yourself.

HAYNES

: Thanks.

(EMMA crosses to stove . FRANK sits on couch with bacon and coffee . FRANK sings a short snatch from an old song .)

FRANK

: (

singing

) “My baby loves bacon

And that’s what I’m makin’

When I’m cookin’ breakfast for the one I love.

I don’t like oatmeal …”

EMMA

: Oh, don’t sing that, Frank. We’ve got company. (

to

HAYNES

) He always sings that when we have company.

FRANK

: We never have company.

EMMA

: That’s not entirely true.

(HAYNES shivers, rubs his arms .)

HAYNES

: How cold is it out there, anyway?

EMMA

: Oh, it’s plenty cold.

FRANK

: Cold enough to stick your tongue to a mailbox.

EMMA

: How cold was it back there in Colorado, Mr. Haynes?

HAYNES

: Graig.

EMMA

: What?

HAYNES

: Call me Graig.

EMMA

: Craig? Oh—all right—Craig.

HAYNES

: No, Graig—with a G.

EMMA

: What?

HAYNES

: Never mind.

EMMA

: Would you like a cup of coffee, Craig?

HAYNES

: Please—yes.

( She pours him a cup )

EMMA

: So, how cold was it back there in Colorado, Craig?

(FRANK stands suddenly from the couch, throwing down his coffee cup. Violent .)

FRANK

: GRAIG! His name is Graig! Didn’t you hear him? Graig with a G, not Craig with a C! GRAIG!!

EMMA

: (

flatly

) Oh, my God.

(EMMA slams down coffeepot and exits out through kitchen archway, stage left. Pause . FRANK picks up his cup off the floor and takes it to the sink. Pause .)

HAYNES

: I didn’t mean to upset her.

FRANK

: You didn’t.

HAYNES

: She seemed upset.

FRANK

: She was, but you weren’t the cause of it.

HAYNES

: Oh—

FRANK

: Some man came by, evidently—some stranger. I guess that’s it. Got her shook up.

HAYNES

: A stranger?

FRANK

: That’s what she said. She gets nervous. We hardly ever see anyone out here.

HAYNES

: Well—what did he want?

FRANK

: Who?

HAYNES

: The stranger.

FRANK

: You got me. I didn’t see him. I was down feeding my heifers.

HAYNES

: She didn’t say?

FRANK

: Not really. Just asked her a bunch of strange questions about the house.

HAYNES

: What kind of questions?

FRANK

: Nothing, really. I mean—how many rooms there were. Stuff like that.

HAYNES

: That’s strange, isn’t it?

FRANK

: What?

HAYNES

: A stranger coming by.

FRANK

: Not really. We’re out here in the boondocks. Sitting ducks for solicitors.

HAYNES

: Oh, really?

FRANK

: Yeah, sure. All kinds. They see the house from the road, all exposed like this. They come up. We’re vulnerable.