The Skin of Our Teeth (4 page)

When your father comes home I want you to be extra quiet.

He's had a hard day at the office and I don't know but what he may have one of his moods.

I just got a telegram from him very happy and excited, and you know what that means. Your father's temper's uneven; I guess you know that.

Shriek.

Henry! Henry!

Why—why can't you remember to keep your hair down over your forehead? You must keep that scar covered up. Don't you know that when your father sees it he loses all control over himself? He goes crazy. He wants to die.

After a moment's despair she collects herself decisively, wets the hem of her apron in her mouth and starts polishing his forehead vigorously.

Lift your head up. Stop squirming. Blessed me, sometimes I think that it's going away—and then there it is: just as red as ever.

HENRY:

Mama, today at school two teachers forgot and called me by my old name. They forgot, Mama. You'd better write another letter to the principal, so that he'll tell them I've changed my name. Right out in class they called me: Cain.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Putting her hand on his mouth, too late; hoarsely.

Don't say it.

Polishing feverishly.

If you're good they'll forget it. Henry, you didn't hit anyone . . . today, did you?

HENRY:

Oh . . . no-o-o!

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Still working, not looking at Gladys.

And, Gladys, I want you to be especially nice to your father tonight. You know what he calls you when you're good—his little angel, his little star. Keep your dress down like a little lady. And keep your voice nice and low. Gladys Antrobus!! What's that red stuff you have on your face?

Slaps her.

You're a filthy detestable child!

Rises in real, though temporary, repudiation and despair.

Get away from me, both of you! I wish I'd never seen sight or sound of you. Let the cold come! I can't stand it. I don't want to go on.

She walks away.

GLADYS:

Weeping.

All the girls at school do, Mama.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Shrieking.

I'm through with you, that's all!—Sabina! Sabina!—Don't you know your father'd go crazy if he saw that paint on your face? Don't you know your father thinks you're perfect? Don't you know he couldn't live if he didn't think you were perfect?—Sabina!

Enter
SABINA
.

SABINA:

Yes, Mrs. Antrobus!

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Take this girl out into the kitchen and wash her face with the scrubbing brush.

MR. ANTROBUS:

Outside, roaring.

“I've been working on the railroad, all the livelong day . . . etc.”

The
ANIMALS
start running around in circles, bellowing.
SABINA
rushes to the window.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Sabina, what's that noise outside?

SABINA:

Oh, it's a drunken tramp. It's a giant, Mrs. Antrobus. We'll all be killed in our beds, I know it!

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Help me quick. Quick. Everybody.

Again they stack all the furniture against the door.
MR. ANTROBUS
pounds and bellows.

Who is it? What do you want?—Sabina, have you any boiling water ready?—Who is it?

MR. ANTROBUS:

Broken-down camel of a pig's snout, open this door.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

God be praised! It's your father.—Just a minute, George!—Sabina, clear the door, quick. Gladys, come here while I clean your nasty face!

MR. ANTROBUS:

She-bitch of a goat's gizzard, I'll break every bone in your body. Let me in or I'll tear the whole house down.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Just a minute, George, something's the matter with the lock.

MR. ANTROBUS:

Open the door or I'll tear your livers out. I'll smash your brains on the ceiling, and Devil take the hindmost.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Now, you can open the door, Sabina. I'm ready.

The door is flung open. Silence.
MR. ANTROBUS
—face of a Keystone Comedy Cop—stands there in fur cap and blanket. His arms are full of parcels, including a large stone wheel with a center in it. One hand carries a railroad man's lantern. Suddenly he bursts into joyous roar.

MR. ANTROBUS:

Well, how's the whole crooked family?

Relief. Laughter. Tears. Jumping up and down.
ANIMALS
cavorting.
ANTROBUS
throws the parcels on the ground. Hurls his cap and blanket after them. Heroic embraces. Melee of
HUMANS
and
ANIMALS. SABINA
included.

I'll be scalded and tarred if a man can't get a little welcome when he comes home. Well, Maggie, you old gunny-sack, how's the broken down old weather hen?—Sabina, old fishbait, old skunkpot.—And the children,—how've the little smellers been?

GLADYS:

Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa.

MR. ANTROBUS:

How've they been, Maggie?

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Well, I must say, they've been as good as gold. I haven't had to raise my voice once. I don't know what's the matter with them.

ANTROBUS:

Kneeling before
GLADYS
.

Papa's little weasel, eh?—Sabina, there's some food for you.—Papa's little gopher?

GLADYS:

Her arm around his neck.

Papa, you're always teasing me.

ANTROBUS:

And Henry? Nothing rash today, I hope. Nothing rash?

HENRY:

No, Papa.

ANTROBUS:

Roaring.

Well that's good, that's good—I'll bet Sabina let the fire go out.

SABINA:

Mr. Antrobus, I've given my notice. I'm leaving two weeks from today. I'm sorry, but I'm leaving.

ANTROBUS:

Roar.

Well, if you leave now you'll freeze to death, so go and cook the dinner.

SABINA:

Two weeks, that's the law.

Exit.

ANTROBUS:

Did you get my telegram?

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Yes.—What's a wheel?

He indicates the wheel with a glance.
HENRY
is rolling it around the floor. Rapid, hoarse interchange:
MRS. ANTROBUS
: What does this cold weather mean? It's below freezing.
ANTROBUS
: Not before the children!
MRS. ANTROBUS
: Shouldn't we do something about it?—start off, move?
ANTROBUS
: Not before the children!!! He gives
HENRY
a sharp slap.

HENRY:

Papa, you hit me!

ANTROBUS:

Well, remember it. That's to make you remember today. Today. The day the alphabet's finished; and the day that we
saw
the hundred—the hundred, the hundred, the hundred, the hundred, the hundred—there's no end to 'em.

I've had a day at the office!

Take a look at that wheel, Maggie—when I've got that to rights: you'll see a sight.

There's a reward there for all the walking you've done.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

How do you mean?

ANTROBUS:

On the hassock looking into the fire; with awe.

Maggie, we've reached the top of the wave. There's not much more to be done. We're there!

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Cutting across his mood sharply.

And the ice?

ANTROBUS:

The ice!

HENRY:

Playing with the wheel.

Papa, you could put a chair on this.

ANTROBUS:

Broodingly.

Ye-e-s, any booby can fool with it now,—but I thought of it first.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Children, go out in the kitchen. I want to talk to your father alone.

The
CHILDREN
go out.

ANTROBUS
has moved to his chair up left. He takes the goldfish bowl on his lap; pulls the canary cage down to the level of his face. Both the
ANIMALS
put their paws up on the arm of his chair.
MRS. ANTROBUS
faces him across the room, like a judge.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Well?

ANTROBUS:

Shortly.

It's cold.—How things been, eh? Keck, keck, keck.—And you, Millicent?

MRS. ANTROBUS:

I know it's cold.

ANTROBUS:

To the canary.

No spilling of sunflower seed, eh? No singing after lights-out, y'know what I mean?

MRS. ANTROBUS:

You can try and prevent us freezing to death, can't you? You can do something? We can start moving. Or we can go on the animals' backs?

ANTROBUS:

The best thing about animals is that they don't talk much.

MAMMOTH:

It's cold.

ANTROBUS:

Eh, eh, eh! Watch that!—

—By midnight we'd turn to ice. The roads are full of people now who can scarcely lift a foot from the ground. The grass out in front is like iron,—which reminds me, I have another needle for you.—The people up north—where are they?

Frozen . . . crushed . . . .

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Is that what's going to happen to us?—Will you answer me?

ANTROBUS:

I don't know. I don't know anything. Some say that the ice is going slower. Some say that it's stopped. The sun's growing cold. What can I do about that? Nothing we can do but burn everything in the house, and the fenceposts and the barn. Keep the fire going. When we have no more fire, we die.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?

MRS. ANTROBUS
is about to march off when she catches sight of two
REFUGEES
, men, who have appeared against the back wall of the theatre and who are soon joined by others.

REFUGEES:

Mr. Antrobus! Mr. Antrobus! Mr. An-nn-tro-bus!

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Who's that? Who's that calling you?

ANTROBUS:

Clearing his throat guiltily.

Hm—let me see.

Two
REFUGEES
come up to the window.

REFUGEE:

Could we warm our hands for a moment, Mr. Antrobus. It's very cold, Mr. Antrobus.

ANOTHER REFUGEE:

Mr. Antrobus, I wonder if you have a piece of bread or something that you could spare.

Silence. They wait humbly.
MRS. ANTROBUS
stands rooted to the spot. Suddenly a knock at the door, then another hand knocking in short rapid blows.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

Who are these people? Why, they're all over the front yard.

What have they come
here
for?

Enter
SABINA
.

SABINA:

Mrs. Antrobus! There are some tramps knocking at the back door.

MRS. ANTROBUS:

George, tell these people to go away. Tell them to move right along. I'll go and send them away from the back door. Sabina, come with me.

She goes out energetically.

ANTROBUS:

Sabina! Stay here! I have something to say to you.

He goes to the door and opens it a crack and talks through it.

Ladies and gentlemen! I'll have to ask you to wait a few minutes longer. It'll be all right . . . while you're waiting you might each one pull up a stake of the fence. We'll need them all for the fireplace. There'll be coffee and sandwiches in a moment.

SABINA
looks out door over his shoulder and suddenly extends her arm pointing, with a scream.

SABINA:

Mr. Antrobus, what's that??—that big white thing? Mr. Antrobus, it's ICE. It's ICE!!