Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 171

SETH. I don't want it! I want Pa's old place.

LON. An' I want it. I'm older 'an yuh.

SETH. I got the best claim t' it.

LON. Yuh ain't. We with three mouths t' feed. Yer a swindler, yuh are.

Yuh always tried t' cheat me.

SETH. No one kin say that t' me. I'm an honest man. But I'm a goin' 't heve the two acres if I heve t' go t' law.

LON. Wall, yuh ain't a goin' t' wreck me.

SETH [_calmly; philosophically again_]. Maybe yer right, Lon, when yuh say I ought t' have a roof. I'll tell yuh what I'll do, seein' as how yer my brother. Yuh give me the ground an' the house on it, an' I'll make yuh a present o' twenty-five dollars.

LON. That's a lie! Yuh ain't got twenty-five dollars t' yer name.

SETH. Yuh think so.

LON. Every one in these parts knows yuh owes Hawkins forty-three dollars an twenty-nine cents he kin't collect. Give me the house an' ground, an'

I'll give yuh my own house an' my note fur twenty-five dollars.

SETH. Yer note! I'm a goin' t' heve Pa's old place.

LON. An' I say that yuh or no swindler like yuh is a goin' t' cheat me out o' it.

SETH. I ain't a swindler, yuh wall-eyed son--

LON [_advancing_]. Take it back. Don't yuh call me dissipated names.

SETH. I'll never take it back!

[_Lon doubles his fists and strikes; but the blow lands in the air as Seth grabs Lon. They fight furiously and in dead earnest, though there is no ethics to the struggle. The rickety furniture trembles as they advance and retreat. Seth is quicker and lighter and less easily winded; but Lon's bulk is not readily moved, and, despite his "weak back," he can still wield his arms. It looks like a fight to the finish. Isn't their future at stake? And they are giving vent to a hatred bred by their father. But suddenly Pa's voice is heard, calling wildly to Seth. The men do not move: the voice seems to have paralyzed their muscles. For a moment they stand dazed. Then consciousness comes to them: they realize that the waiting is over. They tear to the bedroom. A silence follows.

They must be fascinated by the ghost of the old man._]

SETH [_in the bedroom; quietly_]. He's gone, Lon.

LON [_in the bedroom_]. Yer right, Seth.

[_Then their voices rise in dispute._]

Don't yuh take it!

SETH. I've got it!

LON. It's mine!

SETH. It ain't!

LON. Yuh kin't--

SETH. Shut up!

[_They rush into the kitchen, Seth in advance, Lon close on his heels. The younger throws the cooking-dish to the floor, grabs the box, and hurries to the table. As though they were about to discover a world's secret, they unlock the box, each as near to it as possible, his arms tense, fingers itching, ready to ward off a blow or seize the treasure. From the box, Seth takes an old tobacco-pouch, a jack-knife, a bit of heavy cord, a couple of letters. These are contemptuously thrown on the table. The will lies at the bottom of the box. Lon s.n.a.t.c.hes it. Seth would take it from him._]

LON. Hold off! I'm jest a goin' t' read it.

[_Seth curbs his impatience. Lon opens the doc.u.ment and reads, slowly and haltingly._]

"I, Nathaniel Polland, o' Sandy Point in the County o' Rhodes an' State o' Michigan, bein' o' sound mind an' memory, do make, publish, an'

declare this t' be my last Will an' Testament in manner followin', viz--." What does "viz" mean?

[_Unable to bear the suspense longer, Seth seizes the paper. He scans it until his eyes catch the all-important paragraph._]

SETH. "--Bequeath all my earthly possessions to my wife, Jennie Polland."

[_Their thunderbolt has descended. They stand like two men suddenly deprived of thought and motion. Medusa's victims could not have been more pitiable. They have been hurled from their El Dorado, which, at the worst, was to have been their common property._

_Then Seth's voice comes to him, and sufficient strength to drop into a chair._]

SETH. The d.a.m.ned old critter.

LON. I'll be swaned.

SETH [_blazing out_]. That's grat.i.tude.

LON. After all we done fur him.

SETH [_pathetically_]. An' me a plannin' these last five years on gettin' that house an' ground.

LON. My kids are packin' our furniture this afternoon, gettin' ready t'

move in.

SETH [_with supreme disgust_]. Leavin' it t' Ma.

LON. Her who he ain't hardly spoke t' in twenty years.

SETH. Jest as though yuh an' me wasn't alive.

LON. We'd a given him our last pipeful.

SETH. His own flesh an' blood.

LON. Why, he told me more 'an a thousand times he hated Ma.

SETH. She don't need it.

LON. She's ready fur the grave-yard.