Happy Birthday, Wanda June Kurt Vonnegut (the best books to read TXT) 📖

You've got to get out right now!

HAROLD moves a little more, stops again.

HAROLD

Just her neighbor and doctor? That's all?

WOODLY

(at the end of his patience, blurting) And her fiancé!

HAROLD

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

(delighted)

And her fiancé! How nice. I hope you'll be very happy--or is that what one says to the woman?

WOODLY

I've got to run!

He turns out the overhead light.

HAROLD

You wish the woman good luck, and you tell the man how fortunate he is. That's how it goes.

WOODLY

(holding open the

front door)

I've literally got to run!

HAROLD

I won't try to keep up with you. I'm not as fast on my feet as I once was.

All three exit. A moment later, HAROLD lets himself and LOOSELEAF in again with a key. He turns on the light again, roams the room, reacquainting himself with his beloved trophies. LOOSELEAF is jangled by the adventure. HAROLD chucks a lioness under her chin.

HAROLD

Miss me, baby?

LOOSELEAF

I dunno, boy.

HAROLD

Hm?

LOOSELEAF

It's a bitch.

HAROLD

(quietly)

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

A bitch.

LOOSELEAF

Didn't recognize you.

HAROLD

We've never met.

LOOSELEAF

I wonder who'll recognize us first? They'll wet their pants.

HAROLD

I hope the men do. I would rather the women didn't.

LOOSELEAF

I'm gonna wet my pants.

He laughs idiotically.

HAROLD

(looking around himself) Home, sweet home.

LOOSELEAF

One thing, anyway--at least Penelope didn't throw out all your crap. I bet Alice threw out all my crap after I'd been gone a week.

HAROLD

We'll see.

HAROLD, who wants to savor the early moments of his homecoming alone, now tries to get the very jumpy LOOSELEAF out of the apartment.

HAROLD

It appears that we're going to have to wait awhile for any more action here, Colonel. Why don't you run on home while the evening's young.

LOOSELEAF

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

Home. Jesus.

(makes his hands tremble) I'm like this. Home!

HAROLD

Home is important to a man.

LOOSELEAF

You know what gets me?

HAROLD

(absently)

No.

LOOSELEAF

How all the magazines show tits today.

HAROLD

Um.

LOOSELEAF

Used to be against the law, didn't it?

HAROLD

(fed up with LOOSELEAF) I suppose.

LOOSELEAF

(making no move to leave) Must have changed that law. Silence, while HAROLD attempts to be alone, even though LOOSELEAF is still present.

HAROLD

(thoughtfully hefting a broadsword,

admiring its balance and strength)

Home.

LOOSELEAF

You know what gets me?

HAROLD does not respond.

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

LOOSELEAF

You know what gets me?

HAROLD

(to himself)

Oh, shit.

LOOSELEAF

(finding enough

encouragement in this) How everybody says "fuck" and

"shit" all the time. I used to be scared shitless I'd say "fuck" or

"shit" in public, by accident. Now everybody says "fuck" and "shit,"

"fuck" and "shit" all the time. Something very big must have happened while we were out of the country.

HAROLD

(flatly)

Looseleaf--will you get the hell home?

LOOSELEAF

At least we found the diamonds.

HAROLD

At least!

LOOSELEAF

I'd really feel stupid if we didn't bring anything back home.

HAROLD

It's enough that you've brought yourself home!

LOOSELEAF

I wish you'd tell Alice that. And that Goddamn Mrs. Wheeler.

HAROLD

(hotly)

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

Tell them yourself!

LOOSELEAF

You don't know my mother-in-law, boy.

HAROLD

After eight years in the jungle with you, I know Mrs. Wheeler better than I know anybody in the universe!

LOOSELEAF

I didn't tell you everything.

HAROLD

The time we were in a tree for fourteen days, you certainly tried to tell me everything about Mrs. Wheeler.

LOOSELEAF

I didn't even scratch the surface. You're lucky, boy. You come home, and nobody's here. When I go home, everybody's going to be there.

HAROLD

This room is full of ghosts.

LOOSELEAF

You're lucky, boy. My house is gonna be filled with people. HAROLD ignores this, attempts to savor the ghosts in the room.

LOOSELEAF

You know what gets me?

HAROLD

Go home!

LOOSELEAF

Thank God we found the fucking diamonds!

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

HAROLD

The hell with the diamonds!

LOOSELEAF

You were rich before. This is the first time I was ever rich.

HAROLD

Go home! Show them how rich you are for a change!

LOOSELEAF

Can I have the Cadillac?

HAROLD

Take the Cadillac and drive it off a cliff, for all I care.

LOOSELEAF

What'll you do for transportation?

HAROLD

I'll buy a hundred more Cadillacs. Go home!

LOOSELEAF

You know what gets me about that Cadillac?

HAROLD

Go home!

LOOSELEAF

When I drive it, I feel like I'm in the middle of a great big wad of bubblegum. I don't hear anything, I don't feel anything. I figure somebody else is driving. It's a bitch.

HAROLD

Go home.

LOOSELEAF

I'm liable to find anything!

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

HAROLD

That's the point! Walk in there and find whatever there is to find--before Alice can cover it up.

LOOSELEAF

I know, I know. I dunno. At least she's in the same house. Sure was spooky, looking in the window there, and there she was.

HAROLD

So long, Colonel.

LOOSELEAF

You know what gets me?

HAROLD

(taking hold of

LOOSELEAF and

steering him to the front door)

Let's talk about it some other time.

LOOSELEAF

How short the skirts are.

HAROLD

(opening the door) Good night, Colonel. It's been beautiful.

LOOSELEAF

Something very important about sex must have happened while we were gone. HAROLD shoves him out of the apartment and shuts the door. HAROLD starts to roam the room again, but the lion doorbell roars.

HAROLD

(going to the door) Hell!

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WANDA JUNE

HAROLD opens the door. LOOSELEAF comes in.

LOOSELEAF

You know what gets me? Those guys who went to the moon! To the moon, boy!

HAROLD

Leave me alone! After eight years of horrendously close association, the time has come to part! I crave solitude and time for reflection-and then a reunion in privacy with my own flesh and blood. You and I may not meet again for months!

LOOSELEAF

Months?

HAROLD

I'm certainly not going to come horning back into your life tomorrow, and I will not welcome your horning