Drawn Up From Deep Places

A LAST BREATH comes up, MODIFYING into the ELECTRIC CRACKLE of PURL’S MACHINE. It PEAKS. SILENCE.

OVER:

JACK

(At last)

Oh yes, that happened too—

(Quieter)

—more than once.

TABLEAU EIGHT: WHEN THE GREEN FIELD COMES OFF LIKE A LID

BRING UP the SOUND OF BIRDS in PURL’S garden. JACK is planting rosebushes, humming slightly, atonally (the MUSIC BOX tune). FOOTSTEPS ON GRASS, as MRS. BENTHAM approaches.

MRS. BENTHAM

Good morning, Stephen. A lovely day, isn’t it?

JACK

Very. Won’t you sit down?

MRS. BENTHAM

Just for a moment. Did Dr. Purl tell you to plant those bushes?

JACK

Bowker said I might, if I kept out of his way.

MRS. BENTHAM

Such a heavenly smell. I’m told you do very good work here,

in the garden.

JACK

As my position requires.

(Off her reaction)

The truth is, I enjoy it. That makes me try harder.

MRS. BENTHAM

Fair enough.

(A beat)

Oh, I had meant to ask you: Did you tamper with Asa’s

bandages last night, by any chance?

JACK