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—