Mr. Burns and Other Plays. Anne Washburn

to stay. Just for the night.

       Ruthie looks at Hananiah, then looks at Emily.

      RUTHIE: I think he’s going to have to be cleaner. To stay here. (To Hananiah) Right? (To them) There are things in there.

       Emily hugs Ruthie.

      HANANIAH: “Things” are my clothes. They’re in the drawers to your left.

      EMILY: We’ll come back for him in the morning.

       As they haul him into the bedroom:

       We’re going to need towels or something to lay on the bed if you don’t want this on the coverlet.

       Ruthie darts after them. After a bit, Hananiah sits.

      RUTHIE (Offstage. She’s sliding towels under his feet): A bit higher, okay? Just for a moment.

      SOMEONE (Offstage): Watch the boots, watch / the boots.

       Sound of minor breakage.

       Oh / shit.

      RUTHIE (Offstage): That’s fine. No really. Okay . . .

      PT : Okay.

       Jeremiah is in place.

       Some moments of silence.

       During which Emily crosses back into the room with one of the group, speaking to him in a low voice.

       (Offstage) This one all right?

      RUTHIE (Offstage): That’s fine. Anything in there

       There is a longish whispered consultation at the door, during which:

      PT (Offstage): This would be easier with a skirt. Can you just? Okay.

       Then he exits. Emily crosses back into the offstage bedroom.

       There is a pause.

       Ruthie reenters the room.

      RUTHIE: They’re getting him changed.

       There’s a bit of a pause. Hananiah looks up.

      HANANIAH (Gently): Will you take my hand?

       He holds out his hand.

       Bit of a pause.

      RUTHIE: I think probably I’d better not.

       He looks at her. She looks at him. Then looks away. He stands up. She looks at him.

       And don’t—no.

       PT enters.

      PT: What he really needs is a bath but he’s too hard to handle passed out. Monica’s going after him with a wash cloth but hopefully he’ll be up for a shower tomorrow. (To Hananiah) I like your stuff. It’s actually it’s been a long time since I went through someone else’s closet. It reminds me of, like, my older brother when we were in high school. I was always going after his football jersey. Man, that used to piss him off!

       There’s a little pause.

       You don’t mind if I rummage in your fridge do you?

       Ruthie points out the kitchen. PT goes off.

       Emily appears in the doorway.

      EMILY: He has been intermittently conscious. I think it’s just exhaustion. PT?

       PT appears with a small hunk of cheddar.

      PT: Cheese okay?

      EMILY: PT can you give me a hand? And actually, Ruthie? (Ruthie gets up. As Emily goes off with PT) You’re not going to want him on your bed tonight I imagine. He looks like a thrasher.

       (From off) Okay if you can just, by the leg—PT, easy.

      PT: Yeah okay and you—

      EMILY: —okay, okay—

       They’re maneuvering Jeremiah into the room and onto the couch. He is wearing jeans and a T-shirt. His feet are bare.

      RUTHIE (To Hananiah): Will you get a blanket from the pelican chest?

      EMILY: Easy, and over, and over. Okay

       They get him set down.

       good.

       (To Ruthie) You don’t have a washing machine do you?

      RUTHIE: No.

      EMILY: PT get a garbage bag or something for his robes. Oh and the—

       PT has started into the kitchen.

      RUTHIE: They’re under the sink.

      EMILY: boots. Get one for the boots. Don’t forget the boots, they’re in the—

       Hananiah brings the blanket over; sees Jeremiah’s face for the first time. Freezes.

      HANANIAH: I thought he was in custody.

       Jeremiah, disturbed by all the jostling, rouses and kind of half rears up, looks up and on seeing Hananiah, launches into prophecy.

      JEREMIAH:

       Hananiah.

       Hananiah Behold, I am against them that prophesy

       false dreams. I will feed them with wormwood

       and make them drink the water of gall

       Is not my word like as a fire? Saith the Lord!

       There is an internal struggle. The Lord wins.

       And like a hammer

       that breaketh the rock in pieces: Behold, I am

       Briefly, Jeremiah wins:

       No.

       A struggle.

       No.

       Jeremiah loses.

       Hear now Hananiah, the Lord hath not . . .

       hath not sent thee; but thou makest

       He’s sweating.

       Thou makest this people to trust

       I won’t

       in a lie. Therefore thus saith the Lord—no.

       No.

       No I won’t.

       Exhausted.

       No.

       I won’t.

       He falls back unconscious. The lights swiftly dwindle.

       The sound of his dreaming begins, low.

      EMILY (After a ghastly pause): We’ll be back for him, in the morning.

      HANANIAH: You’re leaving him here (.)

      CHAPTER 14

      THE DREAM OF JEREMIAH

       There is a garble of back-sound: the mutter of overheard conversations, street noise, the sound of a subway car entering a station—all of it barely possible to make out.

       Underlying it all, and increasing in volume, is an unearthly bit of pre-singing.

       As the dream progresses, something martial and stirring and uneasy may make its way in.

      EMILY (Fading): We’ll be back for him, in the morning.

      HANANIAH (Fading): You’re leaving him here.

      EMILY (Fading): We’ll be back in the morning.

      HANANIAH (Fading. To Ruthie): This is—no.

      PERSON A: