Angels in America by Tony Kushner Read Free Book Online Page B

light, then sits next to her on the floor. As soon as he sits, Harper stands, goes to the lamp, turns off the light, and then returns to sit beside him. They sit quietly, close together, in the dark. Then:)
    HARPER : When you pray, what do you pray for?
    JOE : I pray for God to crush me, break me up into little pieces and start all over again.
    HARPER : Oh. Please. Don’t pray for that.
    JOE : I had a book of Bible stories when I was a kid. There was a picture I’d look at twenty times every day: Jacob wrestles with the angel. I don’t really remember the story, or why the wrestling—just the picture. Jacob is young and very strong. The angel is . . . a beautiful man, with golden hairand wings, of course. I still dream about it. Many nights. I’m . . . It’s me. In that struggle. Fierce, and unfair. The angel is not human, and it holds nothing back, so how could anyone human win, what kind of a fight is that? It’s not just. Losing means your soul thrown down in the dust, your heart torn out from God’s. But you can’t not lose.
    HARPER : In the whole entire world, you are the only person, the only person I love or have ever loved. And I love you terribly. Terribly. That’s what’s so awfully, irreducibly real. I can make up anything but I can’t dream that away.
    JOE : Are you . . . Are you really going to have a baby?
    HARPER : It’s my time, and there’s no blood. I don’t really know. I suppose it wouldn’t be a great thing. Maybe I’m just not bleeding because I take too many pills. Maybe I’ll give birth to a pill.
    (He laughs a little.)
    HARPER : That would give a new meaning to pill-popping, huh?
    (They both laugh.)
    HARPER : I think you should go to Washington. Alone. Change, like you said.
    JOE : I’m not going to leave you, Harper.
    HARPER (A beat, then) : Well maybe not. But I’m going to leave you.
    Scene 3
    One A.M. , the next morning. A hospital room. Prior is in a bed, oxygen mask on his face, IV tubes draining bags of fluids into his veins. Emily, a nurse, finishes checking the tubes, the machines. Louis watches Emily; he avoids looking at Prior .
    EMILY : He’ll be all right now.
    LOUIS : No he won’t.
    EMILY : No. I guess not. I gave him something that makes him sleep.
    LOUIS : Deep asleep?
    EMILY : Orbiting the moons of Jupiter.
    LOUIS : A good place to be.
    EMILY : Anyplace better than here. You his . . . uh . . .?
    LOUIS : Yes. I’m his uh.
    EMILY : This must be hell for you.
    LOUIS : It is. Hell. The After Life. Which is not at all like a rainy afternoon in March, by the way, Prior. A lot more vivid than I’d expected. Dead leaves, but the crunchy kind. Sharp, dry air. The kind of long, luxurious dying feeling that breaks your heart.
    EMILY (Not following, exactly) : Yeah, well. We all get to break our hearts on this one.
    Â Â Â Â Â  He seems like a nice guy. Cute.
    LOUIS : Not like this.
    Â Â Â Â Â  Yes, he is. Was. Whatever.
    EMILY : Weird name. Prior Walter. Like, “The Walter before this one.”
    LOUIS : Lots of Walters before this one. Prior is an old old family name in an old old family. The Walters go back to the Mayflower and beyond. Back to the Norman Conquests.He says there’s a Prior Walter stitched into the Bayeux tapestry.
    EMILY : Is that impressive?
    LOUIS : Well, it’s old. Very old. Which in some circles equals impressive.
    EMILY : Not in my circle. What’s the name of the tapestry?
    LOUIS : The Bayeux tapestry. Embroidered by La Reine Mathilde.
    EMILY : I’ll tell my mother. She embroiders. Drives me nuts.
    LOUIS : Manual therapy for anxious hands.
    EMILY : Maybe you should try it.
    (Louis looks at her, then finally looks directly at Prior. Then he looks away.)
    LOUIS : Mathilde stitched while William the Conqueror was off to war. She was capable of . . . more than loyalty. Devotion.
    Â Â Â Â Â  She waited for him, she stitched for years.