Epilogue to "The Trial of Westward Ho": "Overheard Voices IV"

            (My teacher says that overheard voices can be more interesting than what we

            make up ourselves. I doubt it.)

MAN

Class, this woman would like to speak to you.

OLDER WOMAN

I have a blog.  It used to be my son’s.  Yes, the one you know.  I need someone to take charge of it.  I have no head for writing---though I might have written a play or two.  I need a writer.  I will not pay.

            (All the PUPILS, in eager foolishness, raise their hands.  The OLDER WOMAN
            selects a YOUNG WOMAN.)

                   OLDER WOMAN (Continued)

You, with hair like a man.  Your lines are biting.  I like you best.

YOUNG WOMAN

My girlfriends said it was my lucky day.

            (The other PUPILS seethe in their envy.)

            END OF EPILOGUE.

            END OF “THE TRIAL OF WESTWARD HO.”

 

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part XVIII"

THE FOOL

---ruling.

THE POPE

Hold tight to your articles!  Here is my opinion.  Westward, thou didst wrong.  It matters not the intent.  Thou hast offended thy mother---and, possibly, thy sister---over a thing that signifieth naught.  To repeat, art signifieth naught.

            (MR. BALDHAWK, attorney for MRS. HO, stands up.)

MR. BALDHAWK

What is his punishment?

THE POPE

Forsooth, he mustn’t burn.  Let us take the thing that he loveth---

MR. BALDHAWK

His blog?

THE POPE

Aye.  Take it and give it to his mother.  Enough!  I near to die.  Requiem in pace!  Benedicte!

            (He leaves in a flurry of cardinals, bastards, and fools.  The crowd starts to
            leave.  MR. BALDHAWK stops to address MRS. HO.)

MR. BALDHAWK

May I buy you dinner?

            (MRS. HO looks for a count of three, then deliberately---viciously---turns her
            back.)

                  MR. BALDHAWK (Continued)

Song?

            (MR. BALDHAWK, beside himself, makes to leave.  His busy hands mutilate
            what is left of his hair.  WESTWARD addresses MRS. HO.)

WESTWARD

Mother.  Will you close “Plays:  Short and Strange”?  Will you close the blog?

MRS. HO

It costs me nothing to leave it open.  I am a businesswoman.

WESTWARD

May I still write for it?

MRS. HO

Of course not, my boy.

WESTWARD

            (After a pause)
Shall I gather my belongings and move out?

MRS. HO

No, my son.  I am almost at an end of being angry.
            (Pause)
I very nearly made a mistake.  But I did not make it.

            (MRS. HO goes out a different way than MR. BALDHAWK.  WESTWARD
            stands in the fading light of the empty courtroom, then follows her.)

            END OF PART XVIII.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part XVII"

            (THE FOOL, yet again, prods the sleeping POPE.)

THE POPE

Stop that, thou idiot!  I am the Pope!  Now, to my ruling.

            (He shuffles through sheets of foolscap.)

                   THE POPE (Continued)

The case is simple---simple?---am I right?  A young man wrote some manuscripts---plays---about members of his family, about his sister and mother.  He also, if I be not mistaken, wrote in the names of his sister and mother, as if claiming their authorship.  But what is authorship?  Who wrote the Letter to the Hebrews?  ’Tis a comely letter---

THE FOOL

            (Admonishing)
Popey-poo.

THE POPE

In conclusion, I like not this era.  I wish we were in the wilderness, and I---your Moses---could stone ye for gathering sticks.  But, alas, here I am; and I must rule.  Thus saith your Renaissance Pope . . .

            (A mild tremor.  The crowd reacts.)

                 THE POPE (Continued)

What shaketh the ground?

THE FOOL

As if nature herself were trying to stall your---

            END OF PART XVII.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part XVI"

THE POPE

In closing, I wonder at my having been summoned---summoned?---from the dead---from the dead?  It striketh me mysterious that I should be called to rule on such hobgoblins as internets, or whatso ye call them.  This ordeal speaketh, methinks, to a longing for truth---as though the past held more of that commodity.  Ask my nephews or sons.  I am old---so old that, in the meanderings of my Renaissance mind, I do sometimes reach transport to another epoch.  I used to think these instances of divine revelation.  But, I doubt now but that they are wadings through the forests of time.  At my age . . . Renaissance, Rome, hunting and . . .

            (He falls asleep.  His FOOL pokes him.)

                 THE POPE (Continued)

What then?

THE FOOL

The peasants await your ruling.

THE POPE

So they do.  Romulus and Remus.  So they do.

            (His eyelids droop.)

            END OF PART XVI.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part XV"

            (The courtroom.  Its clean white 21^st Century walls are made baroque by a
            malfunctioning fluorescent.  The gallery is filled with red cardinals.  Cut-outs
            of Mrs. Ho were ordered but did not arrive.  All are waiting, waiting.  MR.
            BALDHAWK stands on the side of the plaintiff.  WESTWARD HO stands on
            the side of the defense.  Perhaps THE POSTMAN is his lawyer.  He stands
            near WESTWARD.)

            (The other members of the Ho family are conspicuously absent.  SUNNY is at the
            hotel.  She sits poolside and reads her book so loudly that, perhaps, she can be
            heard even here.  SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND enters.  He scans the room for his
            wife.  WESTWARD looks at him.  SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND avoids either side.)

              (MRS. HO appears.  She has been through a war.  Her eyes are tireder than
            before.  But her lipstick and headscarf are red like the cardinals.  She has not
            shone so bright since her husband’s death.  MR. BALDHAWK turns to her, then
            turns away.  He makes no motion for her to join him, but she knows what he
            means.  She decides to sit in the back.  She tries to get SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND
            to acknowledge her, but he leaves to find his wife.  Without seeing, WESTWARD
            knows that his mother is in the courtroom.)

            (Oyez oyez.  The BAILIFF comes out of a closet with his giant stick and bangs it
            thrice on the ground.  MRS. HO shudders involuntarily.  WESTWARD closes his
            eyes.  SUNNY loses her place.  MR. BALDHAWK chokes lightly.)

            END OF PART XV.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part XIV"

WESTWARD

Yicheng . . . we don’t have much to say to each other . . .

SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND

We sometimes speak---

WESTWARD

Where is my mother?  Where is Sunny?

SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND

I don’t know where your mother is---

WESTWARD

But Sunny?

            (SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND looks out the window.)

SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND

I wish the postman was here.

            (He looks out for a bit longer and then sits on a kitchen stool.)

                  SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND (Continued)

She’s at a hotel . . .

WESTWARD

At a---?

SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND

She hates the tensions in the house.  I don’t---

WESTWARD

Will she be at the trial?

SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND

I don’t know; also, I don’t care.  There have been too many tensions.  It has been how much time---?

WESTWARD

Fourteen episodes---

SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND

Yes.  It’s too many.  We need the Pope to decide his decision so that we can get back to as we were.

            (The bell chimes.)

            END OF PART XIV.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part XIII"

            (A pottery play.  Found on a future pot by Mrs. Ho, Sunny’s granddaughter-in-
            law.)

[S. HO?:]  Baldhawk . . . no more . . .

[(B]ALDHAWK stands in the sun. 
[ . . .] wings.)

[BALD]HAWK:  I would never have helped [ . . .]

HO:  Don’t be cruel . . .

(MR. BALDHAWK moves his hands [ . . .]
[. . .] window?  Is he trying to escape?

S. HO:  (Continuing)  I haven’t [. . .]

BALDHAWK:  I tho[? . . .]

(He stops speak[ing . . . )]

[. . .]: Will you [. . .]

            END OF PART XIII.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part XII"

            (An airport.  SUNNY is with MR. BALDHAWK.)

SUNNY

I have a magazine that I’m not reading.

MR. BALDHAWK

No, thank you.  I could have handled this on my own.

SUNNY

I’m sure---

MR. BALDHAWK

It’s my car---

SUNNY

Do you think---?

MR. BALDHAWK

I don’t see---

SUNNY

She doesn’t trust you yet.  Not fully.

            (MR. BALDHAWK scuffles his foot on the carpet.  He pats his lines of
            recession.)

MR. BALDHAWK

I see.

SUNNY

Ah, the board just changed.

MR. BALDHAWK

It did?

SUNNY

Yes.  Rome.  The Renaissance.  Arriving now.  Let’s go.
 

MR. BALDHAWK

Let’s go.

            (They stare at the board.)

            END OF PART XII.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part XI"

             (Rome, the Renaissance.  The POPE unfolds a strange letter, airmailed from a 
            later date.  After reading, he raises his eyes from the paper.)

THE POPE

What is the meaning of this?  Cardinals?

            (Men in red flutter in.)

                  THE POPE (Continued)

Cardinals, what is this missive?  Who gave it me?

THE CARDINALS

            (Twittering)
’Twas not we!  ’Twas not we!

THE POPE

Sons whom I call my nephews?

            (The SONS mosey along.)

THE SONS

Shhh, Pops.

THE POPE

I am too old to care.  Did one of ye---one of ye ingrates---write this?

THE SONS

Never!  Where’s a mirror?

THE POPE

My fool?

            (A FOOL pops out of a butter churn.)

THE FOOL

Pop goes the jester!

THE POPE

Wrotest thou this?

THE FOOL

Now, Popey-pie . . . you know I don’t write.  But if you’ll grumble a bit less and read a bit more, you’ll see ’tis from a lady from the future; and she wants you to try her sons.

THE POPE

I’ve sons enough---

THE SONS

Nephews, you mean.

THE FOOL

Try as in court of law, sir Popey-Wopey, good sir.

THE POPE

I see.

            (He bites at an odd root.)

                  THE POPE (Continued)

Sith I am old, I’ll to it.

            (THE FOOL juggles, the SONS hide, the CARDINALS sing.)

            END OF PART XI.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part X"

            (Nighttime.  The hall of the Ho home.  SUNNY and WESTWARD meet in the
            hall, she coming from the bathroom, he going to it.  She is dressed in pajamas and
            carries a toothbrush.  He is wearing a bathrobe and holds a towel.)

WESTWARD

Sunny, was our father killed by a gorilla?

SUNNY

I don’t think so.

WESTWARD

How did he die?

SUNNY

I think lung cancer.  Maybe a gorilla.

            (They go their separate ways.)

            END OF PART X.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part IX"

                (The HOS are at the zoo. YOUNG SUNNY is admiring the physics of a yoyo.
             MRS. HO, looking dashing with a scarf, tries to get her son to see the GORILLA.
             BABY WESTWARD digs in his heels and clings to his mother’s skirts.)

MRS. HO

Westward, not be silly! The big gorilla is friendly. See; he’s friendly.

             (The GORILLA smashes against the bars.)

GORILLA

Woog! Woog!

MRS. HO

That’s how they show love, gorillas.

GORILLA

Blood blood!

YOUNG SUNNY

Mummy, I want to go home.

MRS. HO

You be quiet. This is time for Westward. He got to grow up.

GORILLA

Blood!

             (MR. HO enters, too many cotton candies.)

MR. HO

Stop pushing the boy, Song. If he hates the naughty gorilla, let him hate.

             (BABY WESTWARD runs to his father.)

                    MR. HO (Continued)

Have a cotton candy, son.

             (WESTWARD eats in immense mouthfuls.)

MRS. HO

You baby him, Tug.

MR. HO

You harden him.

SUNNY

Don’t fight anymore!

MRS. HO

Shush with your yoyo.

MR. HO

              (As much to his wife as to his son)
You want to see the gorilla, son?

            (WESTWARD cowers.)

                 MR. HO (Continued)

Come with Daddy.

             (They approach the steel cage.)

GORILLA

Blood, bloody, blood!

              (As they get closer, the GORILLA stops and abruptly makes puppy eyes.)

MR. HO

You see, son; there is nothing to fear in the world.

              (WESTWARD smiles.)

            MR. HO (Continued)

You think he likes cotton candy?

             (WESTWARD holds out his cotton candy. Fearful then, he withdraws his arm.
             His father takes the candy from him and holds it out himself. The GORILLA
             gently takes some.)

             MR. HO (Continued)

There, there, Mr. Gorill---!

GORILLA

BLOOD!

              (The GORILLA rips off MR. HO’s arm. Blood spurts everywhere. MR. HO
              dies. SUNNY screams. BABY WESTWARD cries and rolls on the ground,
              drenched in his father’s life.)

SUNNY

I want to go home!

              (MRS. HO scoops up her son as the GORILLA reaches for him. She presses him
              to her breast, both now covered in blood.)

MRS. HO

Westward, you are the only man in my life now!

             (Tears. Screaming primates. Uproar all around the park. Tableau.)

             END OF PART IX.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part VIII"

WESTWARD

I suppose the time comes in every man’s life . . .

MR. BALDHAWK

Earlier for most men.  You must get out so that your mother can go about the business she intends.

WESTWARD

I see.

MR. BALDHAWK

I can tell by your expression that you know I’m in love with her.

WESTWARD

Thank you for your time, Mr. Baldhawk.

MR. BALDHAWK

She’s a lively, intelligent woman.  Why shouldn’t I---?

WESTWARD

Yes, why shouldn’t you?  I suppose I am trapped in my youth.
            (He turns back)
Does she love you back?

MR. BALDHAWK

Who can say?  But I’m a thinking man; and I think so.

WESTWARD

Will you marry?

            (MR. BALDHAWK shrugs his shoulders)

                     WESTWARD (Continued)

Time passes and feelings change, I suppose.  I will see you in court, Mr. Baldhawk.

            (WESTWARD leaves.  MR. BALDHAWK rubs his bald spot.)

            END OF PART VIII.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part VII"

            (MR. BALDHAWK’s law office.)

MR. BALDHAWK

Westward---I may call you “Westward”?

            (WESTWARD nods weakly.)

                    MR. BALDHAWK (Continued)

Westward, it’s time to grow up.  You can’t sit in the upstairs room at your mother’s, fiddling with a silly blog and expecting the world to be hunky-dory.  You’ve got to man up and get out.

WESTWARD

But Sunny and Yicheng---

MR. BALDHAWK

They’re newlyweds.  Soon, they’ll fill the house with babies.  But what do you bring?  Pottery plays?

            (WESTWARD walks slowly to the window.)

WESTWARD

If I move out, will she stop her lawsuit?

MR. BALDHAWK

Heavens, no.  She’s in for blood now.

            (MR. BALDHAWK shuffles papers.)

            END OF PART VII.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part VI"

            (MR. BALDHAWK’s office.)

WESTWARD

You are my mother’s lawyer.

MR. BALDHAWK

You will lose the case.

WESTWARD

I must tell you . . . I think Mother has gone nuts.

MR. BALDHAWK

Haven’t we all, a little?

WESTWARD

She is suing me over a trifle.  And, this morning, she spoke harshly to my sister.  She told her to lie on the stand.

MR. BALDHAWK

That’s what you thought you heard.  But hearing is a funny---

WESTWARD

She used to be kind, tender.  But, now, she’s . . .  I’m not sure she loves me anymore.

MR. BALDHAWK

            (Pause, chews a pen)
 How old are you, my boy?

WESTWARD

            (Clears throat)
Nearing or past thirty.

MR. BALDHAWK

And you live with your mother?  There’s your trouble.

            (MR. BALDHAWK shuffles papers.)

            END OF PART VI.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part V"

            (The squalid office of MR. BALDHAWK, attorney.  Two dandies, HALLWARD
            and MAUVE, are finishing up their business.)

MAUVE

Tally-ho, will you give me cash for my annuity?

HALLWARD

I, too, have an annuity that I would like to cash in.

            (MR. BALDHAWK pulls greasy bills from out of an old box.)

MR. BALDHAWK

Take your money and get out, you bums!

            (They pocket the cash in striped vests.)

HALLWARD

I say, Mauve, what will we live on now?

MAUVE

Bons mots.

HALLWARD

Or, les mots justes.

            (They skip out.  WESTWARD HO comes in the open door.)

WESTWARD

Mr. Baldhawk?

MR. BALDHAWK

The time to cash in annuities is gone.  Come back tomorrow.

WESTWARD

I am here on other matters.

MR. BALDHAWK

I see.

            (He looks up, glinty.)

            END OF PART V.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part IV"

SUNNY

Mother, I don’t know that I didn’t write a play called “The Provinces.”

            (MRS. HO chokes on her tea.)

MRS. HO

Surely, you wrote no such thing.  Your skills lie in physics, not writing.  I have read your writing.  It is a dog’s writing.

SUNNY

Mother.  I thought “The Provinces” captured my feelings well.  My weeks away were a challenge to me.  It was difficult going, finding a husband and coming home.  The plays are my thinking.  They are my writing.

MRS. HO

You keep such statements to yourself.  When Mr. Baldhawk calls you to the stand, you will say that you never wrote such a thing, that you do not write, that you cannot write worth a dog.

SUNNY

Mother, you are approaching disrespect.

MRS. HO

I am approaching truth, and you know it.

            (SUNNY gulps.)

            END OF PART IV.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part III"

            (WESTWARD is reading the letter.  As he does so, the LAWYER stands behind
            him.  It is the LAWYER’s voice, bald and hawk-like, that we hear.  THE
            POSTMAN listens beneficently.)

LAWYER

Mr. Ho, it will no doubt come as a surprise that you mother is suing you.  When I ran into her on the street, I knew instantly that she was not to be trifled with.  In brief, she is suing you as a result of some documents posted on your blog, “Plays:  Short and Strange.”  Particularly, she objects to a series of plays entitled, “The Provinces,” and harbors similar objections regarding “Sunny Comes Back from the Provinces” and “Overheard Voices III.”  It is Mrs. Ho’s contention that these play scripts either include her as a character, include her daughter---your sister---as a character, and/or are titled as though written by Mrs. Ho or her daughter.  While the complainant takes no exception regarding the ultimate veracity of the depictions, she asserts that truth is a stretchy thing and that you have stretched it.

            (The LAWYER exits.)

THE POSTMAN

A bad blow, Westward.

            (WESTWARD wants to break a wooden spoon, but is powerless to do so.)

WESTWARD

            (Angrily)
Was ever son so abused?  Tell me, Postman; have you ever been sued by your mother?

THE POSTMAN

Once.  It was a bitter business.

WESTWARD

Oh.

THE POSTMAN

She blamed me for some family deaths; but I was as heartbroken as she.

WESTWARD

Oh.

THE POSTMAN

I wish you well.  We all have troubles.

            (THE POSTMAN exits.  Clank of the door.  WESTWARD falls to his knees.  He
            lifts a wooden spoon aloft, but still cannot break it.)

            END OF PART III.

"The Trial of Westward Ho, Part II"

            (WESTWARD, SUNNY, and SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND are eating breakfast. 
            Orange peels are strewn wildly about.  THE POSTMAN walks in.)

THE POSTMAN

Letter for Mr. Westward Ho.

            (WESTWARD looks at the envelope.)

WESTWARD

It’s from Mother.

            (SUNNY gets up.)

SUNNY

Excuse me.

            (She leaves.)

WESTWARD

It’s not from Mother.  It’s from her lawyer.

            (SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND gets up.)

SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND

I must go.

WESTWARD

Won’t you watch me open it?

            (The FRIEND takes an English muffin.)

SUNNY’S MAN FRIEND

Forgive me.

            (He hurries away.)

WESTWARD

Postman, will stay with me?

THE POSTMAN

I am ahead in my route, Westward.  Open it.

            (Rip.)

            END OF PART II.