GK TALK UP, ABOUT DAY OF RECKONING, END OF FALL, ETC......
(MUSIC)
(FOOTSTEPS DOWN HALLWAY. STOP. GK GETS HIMSELF SET, CLEARS THROAT. THEN TAKES DEEP BREATH. OPENS DOOR. WALKS IN.)
GK: Hi, Angel. How are you---- Great to see you. (DOOR CLOSE)
SS: Hi. Have a seat, Carson. (FOOTSTEPS, AND SIT DOWN)
GK: Looks like you got a whole meeting here, huh? Hi, Clive. (TR & TK MURMURS, GREETING) Trent. Brad. Melissa. Hey, everybody here from the agency too. (MORE MURMURED GREETINGS) Hi, Trevor. Molly. Evan. Jessica. Noah. Sarah. Zoe. Good to see you guys. And all of the designers too. (MURMURS) Hi. Thad. Andre. Pamela. Elizabeth. Cal.
SS: You remember Brent?
GK: Yes. Hi. (TK GRUNT)
SS: And Aleisha----
GK: Hi. There. Good to see you. (SS HI) So---- looks like you sort of brought everybody together into one place for a meeting, huh? Guess we're going to talk about the spring campaign, huh? Can't wait to get started, huh? Angel? You and me. Boy, we go bac k a long ways don't we, huh? Kid-----
SS: Don't call me Angel anymore. Okay? I'm Donna.
GK: But I've called you Angel since we were kids, Donna----
SS: My name is Donna. And, Carson ---- we're not renewing your contract----
GK: You're not?
SS: You've appeared on your last underwear billboard, Carson.
GK: And the catalogue----
SS: You're out of the catalogue-----
GK: But---- I'm your top model, Angel. I'm a supermodel.
TR: Were a supermodel.
GK: But---- what happened? Is it my legs?
TR: No, it's not your legs.
SS: We looked at the prints from the summer shoot in Barbados, Carson, and your abdomen has definitely become looser.
GK: What? My abdomen is so hard I wear out my waistbands from the abrasion.
SS: There are signs of love handles. And under your chin, there are little wobbly areas.
GK: My abdomen? flabby? Hit me. Come on.
SS: It's too late, Carson.
GK: Hit me. Come on. Right there.
SS: You've let yourself go.
GK: What?
SS: You've let yourself go, Carson, and you've become sloppy and pitiful and your chin wobbles, and when we showed these picture to Minnesota Public Radio, they said, "Okay, that's it!" --- you're off the air, Carson ---- you're out of public radio --- yo u who were once a model of careless boyish glamour, you've turned the corner and you've become a lumbering galoot, and it's all over, your radio career and your career as an underwear model...
GK: No!
SS: Yes. We've replaced you----
GK: How can you ---- replaced me with who?
(PAUSE)
SS: Dave Barry.
GK: Dave Barry??? The syndicated columnist?
SS: Dave Barry has a 28-inch waist and a 48-inch chest and he can bench press 400 pounds.
GK: Dave Barry the guy who collects his every column into a book and every book has his name in the title?
SS: Dave Barry has abdominals you could scrub your overalls on.
GK: So he's going to ----- but I could model the long underwear-- --
TR: We've hired Ian Frazier for that.
GK: Ian Frazier the author of "Dating Your Mom"?
SS: Ian Frazier is a he-man. You're history, Carson.
GK: Once I was America's golden boy in white briefs. And now----
SS: And now you're nothing but a dead leaf blowing down an empty street.
GK: I guess so. You and I used to ride our bikes down to the library, Donna ---- we used to help each other with book reports- --
SS: Don't make this any harder than it is already, Carson. Goodbye. (DOOR SLAM) (MUSIC)
GK: I knew that this day was coming, and I dreaded it, and yet, when it came, I felt curiously happy. I stood in the circular drive of my mansion, Foxcroft, and after all these years of wealth and glamour, it was somehow a relief to say goodbye to it.
TK (BRIT): Goodbye, sir.
GK: Goodbye, Neville.
TK (BRIT): You have your knapsack then, sir?
GK: Yes, I do. Thanks.
TK (BRIT): Your toothbrush and everything----
GK: Yes, it's all here.
TK ( BRIT): Your clean underwear.
GK: Underwear. (HE SOBS QUIETLY) I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that.
TK (BRIT): Quite all right. Bad shock, that.
GK: Yes. But I'll be all right.
TK (BRIT): Stiff upper lip then, sir.
GK: Yes, we'll just soldier on, Neville.
TK (BRIT): Quite so.
GK: You'll feed the swans then?
TK (BRIT): Yes, of course.
GK: You'll drain the pool and make sure the orchids are bedded down--
TK (BRIT): Yes.
GK: Goodbye.
TK (BRIT): Goodbye, sir.
GK: Goodbye, mansion. Goodbye, little trees and hedges cut in the shapes of animals. Goodbye, croquet lawn. Farewell, little pond with goldfish. Goodbye, stables and footmen! (TR DISTANT HALLOES, WHINNIES) Anyone I've forgotten, Neville?
TK (BRIT): The librarian, sir.
GK: I didn't know we had a librarian.
TK (BRIT): Right over there, sir.
GK: Goodbye, librarian.
TR (LADY BRIT): Goodbye! Good reading, sir!
TK (BRIT): And the cook, sir.
GK: Goodbye, cook!
SS (BRIT): Goodbye! how did you like the fondeux?
GK: The fondeux? it was lovely?
SS (BRIT): Did you prefer the chocolate fondeux? or the cheese fondeux?
GK: The chocolate fondeux was very good, but I rather liked the cheese fondeux.
SS (BRIT): That's lovely. Lovely. Here---
GK: What is it?
SS (BRIT): It's a fondeux fork.
GK: Lovely. Thank you. (FOOTSTEPS DOWN GRAVEL. MUSIC UP)
GK: And that was it. Goodbye to Foxcroft. It was hard to say goodbye, and yet, I was strangely happy....and a few days later, I found myself standing before that little sod house on the river bank that I know so well----- (KNOCKING ON DOOR) Hello? (DOOR C REAKS OPEN) Hi, Dad. It's me. Carson.
TR: SWEDISH GIBBERISH
GK: I was a supermodel, Dad, and now I'm a nobody again. And yet I'm happy.
TR: SWEDISH GIBBERISH
GK: Fifty-five years old and I'm flat broke and yet I feel strangely exuberant inside. (SHEEP) Still using sheep for furniture, huh? Well---- got anything to eat?
TR: SWEDISH GIBBERISH
GK: Macaroni and cheese, huh? Okay. (MUSIC) And I fixed supper, and then ---- I thought it'd be nice to have a candlelit supper there in the sod house with my old Dad, and I found a candle and I found a dusty old bottle on the shelf, and I wiped off the d ust ---- (GLISSANDO OF MAGIC)----- what? Who are you?
SS (REVERB): I'm your fairy godmother, of course.
GK: You don't seem like one. You're not wearing sparkly clothes. You're dressed in jogging clothes.
SS (REVERB): Well, I'm not your regular fairy godmother. She's off tonight. I'm filling in for her.
GK: So I guess I'm supposed to get three wishes, huh?
SS (REVERB): It used to be three wishes, but now it's just one wish.
GK: One wish, huh?
SS (REVERB): We downsized.
GK: I can't think of even one thing I'd wish for.
SS (REVERB): How about a nice carpet?
GK: Too hard to keep clean. A dirt floor is easy. You don't vacuum or mop, you just tamp it down.
SS (REVERB): How about a coupon for a large-sized shake along with a hamburger and fries?
GK: How about you make Minnesota into a tropical paradise with palm trees and 70 degree temperatures year-round and me with a golden tan and beautiful beaches all the way up the Mississippi from Winona to Bemidji.
SS (REVERB): I don't know as I can do that. I mean, I'm a genie and everything, but ----- you're asking for an awful lot....
GK: Okay, how about this. You explain Minnesotans to me? Why, when winter comes, we feel strangely happy.
SS (REVERB): You want me to explain Minnesotans to you?
GK: Yes.
SS (REVERB): These beaches from Winona to Bemidji ---- you want these to be white sand or golden sand? (STING, INTO SONG).
© 1997 by Garrison Keillor