THE PARK BENCH

A Stranger, a Man, a Woman

The pallid night wind touched their burning cheeks

With fetid breath, whispered a dim distress

And flickered out; while whirling insects danced

Their crazy steps with death around the light.

The Stranger

The night is hot and the crowds intolerable,

May I sit here between you on this bench?

The Man

I s’pose the bench is free to anybody.

The Stranger

I’ve been walking up and down and wondering

If I should speak. You sat here silently,

You two. I could not tell what troubled you.

The Woman

I guess I was thinkin’, Mister. I didn’t know

There was any other person anywhere near.

The Man

I don’t know who she is. She’s nothin’ to me.

She’s got a kid there in her shawl, maybe

Her trouble’s there.

The Stranger

It’s hard to keep up courage;

The heat is sickening, it weighs you down.

I’d like to see the child; may I see its face?

The Woman

He’s two weeks old today.

The Stranger

A sturdy youngster!

What do you call him? What’s his name, I mean?

Don’t turn away. I meant no harm, you know.

The Man

Didn’t I tell you? Something’s wrong, I guess. Maybe

He’s deserted, with another comin’ on.

Ask her again; likely she’s needin’ help.

The Stranger

You seem unhappy. Can’t you tell me why?

I’d like to help you if I can, because—

Well, once I had a little son like that.

Come! what have you got to tell? Out with the story.

See there, the boy is stretching out a hand,

He knows a friend is somewhere ’round, eh, Sonny?

The Woman

You’d like to know what I have got to tell?

I guess you don’t know what you’re askin’, Mister.

You see that big house over there? You see

This baby blinkin’ here? Well, that’s the house

His father lives in. I just found it out,

Found where it was, I mean, then I come here—

Oh, what’s the sense o’ tellin’ any more?

That’s all there is, I guess.

The Stranger

I’d like the story;

Sometimes the pain is eased by speaking out.

The Woman

I don’t know why you want to know about me,

It’s no concern of yours, but if you’ll promise

You’ll let him be, I’ll tell you all there is.

The Stranger

You have my promise.

The Woman

More’n a year ago

It was, I seen him first, an’ ’twasn’t long

Before I thought a lot and so did he.

He said he’d take a flat and furnish it

And we’d keep house together all alone.

He said he had to travel, but he’d come

As often as he could, and stay as long.

I’d worked, you know; I never had a place

I liked to live in, an’ he let me buy

A lot of things I wanted; then he’d laugh

And say I liked the flat so much, perhaps

He’d better stay away and not muss up

The tidies on the chairs. He always had

A lot of money. When he gave me some

He’d never say how much it was, but just,

“Here’s more to buy the tidies with,” and laugh.

It wasn’t long—that little time. I like

To think about it, but it seems so far!

Just like another city or a place

That wasn’t any more; I don’t know why,

I guess the flat’s there still, if I should go—

Hush, honey, hush—don’t you be cryin’ now.

I s’pose I’d ought to tell you that he said

I mustn’t have the kid. I didn’t care;

I didn’t want it, neither. When I knew,

I had to tell, because I got so sick.

He didn’t say a word to make me cry,

Not much of anything. He put a lot

Of money in the drawer and went away—

I never seen him since, until—today.

Until—today—over there, this afternoon

I seen him laughin’ with another kid,

And mine right here, right here, do you understand?

The Stranger

I think I understand, but please go on.

The Woman

I told you he’d put money in the drawer;

I hated takin’ it; but o’ course it lasted

For quite a while,—until I had to go

And be took care of at a hospital.

At first I tried to find him, but I knew

He didn’t want me to. I thought perhaps

When I could take the kid, he’d like it then.

When I was packin’ up I found a paper,

A bill, I guess, all rumpled, in a coat

He left. It had a name I didn’t know.

At first I didn’t think, but lyin’ there

All quiet in the hospital I saw

It was his name, his truly name, and where

He lived and all. This afternoon my time

Was up—by rights I’d oughta left the ward

Four days ago. They gave me this, for the food,

Directions how to fix it right, you know,

And told me I could go, and so I came.

I thought he’d surely want to see me now,

When I was well again, just like I was.

I waited in the park and watched the house,

It looked so big I couldn’t ring the bell.

Maybe ’twas six o’clock I saw him come;

Just by the steps a baby carriage turned

And waited for him comin’ up the street.

The woman wheelin’ it called out “Look there!

There’s Daddy! Can’t you throw a kiss to him?”

I saw him lift the baby ’way up high,

And carry it in the house. Then I come here.

The Stranger

I see. And that is all you plan to do?

I mean, you won’t go back?

The Woman

What can I do?

You see, he doesn’t want me any more.

I’d like to die, but here’s the kid! I guess

I can’t leave him. An’ anyway I’m ’fraid

To die alone. I don’ know what I’ll do.

The Man

I wish that I could think of anything

To say that maybe’d help a little bit.

May I just—shake your hand?—Excuse me, Mister.

The Woman

I didn’t know as you was listenin’ too.

The Man

Perhaps you’d like to hear what’s happened to me.

You’ll see that somebody has known the like

Of what you’re feelin’, maybe it will help.

The Stranger

Ah! I was right then? Both of you are troubled?

The night has brought us three together here;

We must be friends. It’s queer how loneliness

Makes one reach one, as I have reached, to you.

I think each one of us needs both the others.

The Man

Well, Mister, you don’t look as if you’d need

Our help, but maybe you do, maybe, who knows?

I’ll tell you what’s been happening to me.

I’m sick of thoughts goin’ round and round and round,

I wonder if anybody’ll ever know,

I mean to understand, what I’ve been thinkin’.

The Stranger

Why don’t you start? We’ll try to understand.

The Man

I’ll tell you first that I’m a drinking man,

And that’s a thing that causes lots of trouble.

She’s not to blame, she stood it for a while.

She had the children, there are two, you know,

But I was pretty bad. I hated it,

But there it was, and every day a fight,

And oftener and oftener I’d lose.

One day she went away and took the children.

They served some papers on me; I was drunk

And didn’t care; but pretty soon I knew

That she had gone for good. A lawyer came

And talked to me, after she’d talked to him.

And afterwards I saw her in the Court.

The Judge said I must leave our house, and if,

For two years, I could cut the liquor out

She’d let me back.

And so I got a room

About two blocks away where I could see

The children as they passed along to school.

Sometimes I’d walk a little way with them,

But when I couldn’t answer all their questions

I’d think I’d better let ’em be, and so

I’d only watch ’em from behind the blind.

Well, Ma’am, I tried my best; I made a calendar

To mark the days. I got a good promotion.

The time went by, and all the while I thought

Two years are only seven hundred days

And thirty over! I can stick it out!

And then one day I’ll dress myself up clean

And meet the children and we’ll go back home.

I’d marked the calendar six hundred off

And eighty-six, and forty-four were left.

The heat came on and took the starch all out

Of everything. I didn’t care what happened.

I thought she didn’t mean to keep her promise—

A week ago—oh, well, you know the rest.

I don’t know where I’ve been. I’d like to die,

Only I’ve been so lonesome in that room.

I seem to be afraid to die alone!

The Woman

I’m awful sorry, Mister, awful sorry.

Seems like tonight most everybody’s luck

Has all gone back on ’em. Thank you for tellin’!

The Stranger

There’s no use sitting here in silence, is there?

We’ve got to find some way to help you both.

I’d like to if I can, but anyhow,

We’ve helped each other just by speaking out.

If you’ll wait here I’ll get a cab and take

You and the baby to the Sisters’ Home.

Perhaps you’ll come to my office in the morning;

I’d like to talk to you; I’m sure we’ll find

There’s something we can plan. Here is the address.

I sha’n’t be long, keep talking so’s to cheer her,

It was a kindly thought of yours to tell

Your story after hers. We’ll find some way.

The Woman

What ’ud he mean? About the Sisters’ Home?

The Man

Some place where you an’ the kid can go, I s’pose.

The Woman

It’s queer how everybody’s good to you

’Ceptin’ the only one you want to be.

The Man

He said it wasn’t any use to sit

Here silent; that you’d better speak it out;

It always helped. He said he’d find a way.

Do you believe there’s anything ahead

For you or me? I wonder if there is.

The Woman

I’m done with wonderin’ long ago, I know!

I want to die! God, how I want to die!

But here’s the kid, he didn’t ask to come,

And he’s so little, what ’ud become of him?

The Man

Do you believe there’s anything—over there?

The Woman

There’s rest.

The Man

I know there’s rest, but when I’ve sat

All by myself there in that little room

Thinking things out, sometimes it seemed there must

Be something more. I’d mighty well like to know.

The Woman

If I could find someone to take the kid

I’d like to rest, just rest, I wouldn’t want

Much of anything more. There isn’t anything.

I wish I wasn’t scared to die alone.

The Man

You said that once before. Do you mean it, really?

The Woman

What are you thinkin’ about? Say it out, say it out!

The Man

What if we went together, you and I?

There ain’t any use of livin’ any more.

We’d find out something, anyhow.

The Woman

You mean—

The Man

I mean I’m sick o’ livin’, so are you.

Put the kid down there by the evergreens.

He’ll come and find it—he said he’d get a cab;

He’ll take it to the Sisters. Oh, I’m crazy!

Don’t put it there! Take it up again, I say!

A little kid like that! Don’t listen to me.

The Woman

He’s sleeping now; he’ll never know what’s happened.

The Man

You’re goin’ to? Well, come along then fast

Or he’ll come back. We’re both of us crazy now,

But what’s the sense of livin’ any more?

Maybe there’s something better—over there.

The Woman

Wait till I fix him comfortable. Say, Mister,

I was lookin’ at the river, by the pier,

Only I was afraid. Will you stay beside me?

The Man

Yes, that’s the place, come quickly, ’twon’t take long.

The Woman

Maybe we could find a piece of iron

Or something heavy, so’s they wouldn’t find us;

There’s lots around the pier.

The Man

I’ll tell you what:

I’ll tie our hands together to the iron

So the waves won’t—