Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 160

KRAKAU. Never! We should be equal partners. And oh, the long talks we could have about him!... Before it was different ... you were so stuck up about your grandson, I couldn't bear it any longer.... But now we can both be stuck up.

HELMS [_hotly_]. No.... Go over on your own side. I don't want you here.... I want to be alone.

KRAKAU. Helms....

HELMS. Get out of here, I say.... And take your flowers with you. I accept no presents from the like of you.

KRAKAU. The flowers--?

HELMS. Yes, take them away. And take [_chokes over the word_] take Knut's picture, too, and the stockings his father sent.... I guess they're yours by right.

KRAKAU [_indignantly_]. I'll do nothing of the kind. My name's not Carl Helms.

HELMS. Well, take the flowers then.

KRAKAU [_takes the flowers_]. I can do that, all right.

HELMS. And see that you don't come on my side again without asking permission.

KRAKAU [_walks a few paces; turns around_]. Hadn't I better straighten up a bit before your guests come?

HELMS. You leave my things alone ... and mind your business.

[_Krakau goes with the flowers to his own side._]

HELMS. You've got the best of everything anyhow. The stove is on your side and the morning sun. Wouldn't you like to take my arm chair too, and my pictures? Don't mind me, you know.

[_Krakau does not answer. There is a pause. A clock outside strikes five._]

KRAKAU. The clock's striking five.

HELMS. Let it strike.

[_There is another pause. A knock on the door is heard. Neither answers it. There is a louder knock._]

KRAKAU. [_Impatiently._] Why don't you answer the door?

HELMS. I'm not in the humor for company.

KRAKAU. But some one is knocking.

HELMS. What's that to me? [_There is a third knock._]

KRAKAU. Obstinate old fool. [_Loudly._] Come in.

[_Hansen and Johnston enter. Behind them in the hallway Buffe can be seen with Bolling on his arm. Farther back Hammer is seen._

[_Krakau rises, goes to the window and stands there, looking gloomily out into the courtyard._]

HANSEN [_leaving the door open_]. The others are coming. Well, congratulations, Helms.

HELMS. Thank you.

JOHNSTON. Many happy returns. [_They shake hands._]

BUFFE [_entering with Bolling_]. I'll have to put him in your arm chair.

HELMS. Right over there.

BUFFE. [_Helping Bolling to the chair._] Our heartiest congratulations, eh, Bolling?

BOLLING. Hey?

BUFFE [_speaking close to his ear_]. I say we congratulate Helms on his birthday.

BOLLING. No. It's nothing to boast about.

HAMMER [_entering_]. Congratulations!

HANSEN. Now we're all here.

HELMS. Make yourselves comfortable. [_They all take seats._]

[_Bolling sits rigid in the arm chair absently twirling his fingers._

_Krakau, who has once or twice shown the impulse to go over to Helms, stirs uneasily but turns his back to his window._

_A silence falls._

_Suddenly Hansen begins to whistle, a tuneless mournful strain._]

JOHNSTON [_whispering confidentially_]. My dear Peter, one doesn't whistle at a birthday party.

HANSEN [_mocking him_]. My dear Henry, mind your own affairs.

JOHNSTON. You have the soul of a greengrocer.

HANSEN. You have the manners of a barber.

BUFFE [_laughing_]. Those boys are always fighting.

HAMMER. But they can't live without each other.

BUFFE [_to Hammer_]. Aren't you lonely since Kruger died?

HAMMER. It is lonesome sometimes, but I have more room now.

BUFFE. My wrists are so full of rheumatism I can hardly bend them any more.