THE UNDERCURRENT

Scene: In the basement kitchen which also does duty as living and dining room in an old-fashioned New York apartment building. An air of orderliness pervades the room, which is furnished with the meager belongings of the Fishyer family. Shabby, faded curtains hang limply on each side of the small iron-barred window to the left of the room. The galvanized sink is in the back, flanked on the right by the kitchen range and on the left by an old cupboard. A coat rack has been nailed to the side of this cupboard. Over the sink is a shelf, holding the alarm clock, comb and brush and shaving mug. The kitchen table covered with a red table cloth occupies almost the exact center of the room. Upon the table are four plates, knives, forks, cups and saucers, half a loaf of rye bread, a glass jar filled with teaspoons, and a partly filled bottle of milk. There are four chairs around the table.

To the left of this table and near the front of the room stands a dilapidated horse-hair sofa. Directly vis-a-vis from this sofa at the Lower Right is a Morris chair which through long usage has sagged and remolded itself to Pa Fishyer’s two-hundred odd pounds. The door at the Right leads into a short corridor through which the Fishyer’s must pass in order to reach the bedrooms, boiler room, store-room, back stairs, etc. A small table, ladened with pipes, tobacco jar and the Bible is to Right of this door, and the wall phone to the Left. A clothesline with its motley array of rags has been fastened to the hook above the phone and then stretched diagonally across the stove to the shelf above the sink. As this room is below the street level, it is necessary to mount the short flight of stairs Upper Left in order to reach the areaway door Upper Left.

It is evening, about 5 minutes of six, and a light snow is falling. The feet of the passers-by can be seen through the dimly frosted window panes.

Ma Fishyer is peering through the window. Her whole attitude is one of terrible anxiety and she turns with a half sob of relief as she hears the areaway door open stealthily.

Ma Fishyer

[Under her breath.] A-annie?

Mrs. Floyd

[Stalking down the stairs.] Hello, there!

Ma Fishyer

[Swallowing her disappointment.] Ach, it’s yuh, Mis’ Floyd! I—I thought yuh vas ... [She turns back to the window again] ... s-somebody else!

Mrs. Floyd

[Maliciously.] Didya now! [Eyes Annie’s place at table.] Who fer instance?

Ma Fishyer

Ach, eferybody alvays comes to de jeniter for something ... maybe Mis’ Richards about de g-garbage pails....

Mrs. Floyd

... or mebbe even Annie, huh?

Ma Fishyer

[Unaware of the other’s curt smile.] Shure, it’s Thursday to-day ... and she alvays comes....

Mrs. Floyd

Is that so? Well, ya never kin tell! [Shakes fist at door Right.] Huh, I got some news to spill in yer ear! [Seats herself in Pa Fishyer’s chair, Right of table.]

Ma Fishyer

Ach, not—not now! [Still peering out of window.] Pa’ll be here right avay and by six he vants to eat. Not a minute efter six vill he vait.... [She looks at the clock.]

Mrs. Floyd

[Leaning over.] It’s about someone ya know!

Ma Fishyer

... and ef Annie ain’t here on time.... [She turns startled as Mrs. Floyd’s last words reach her.] ... A-about somevun vat I know ... vat I k-know?

Mrs. Floyd

[Venting her spite.] I’ll tell de world ya do!

Ma Fishyer

It ain’t nothin’ bad?

Mrs. Floyd

Bad? Well! [She glares at the door Right.] I imagine some people what thinks my son ain’t good company fer their daughter—certainly are going to have a fit to-night! [With compressed lips.] I’ll say he is! Yes, siree!

Ma Fishyer

[Coming slowly towards her.] It ain’t ’bout Annie?

Mrs. Floyd

Nuthin’ else but!

Ma Fishyer

[Moans.] Ach! [Goes fearfully towards door Right and, half opening it, listens intently.]

Mrs. Floyd

My son may be a little wild, but he ain’t never been arrested yet.

Ma Fishyer

Arrest.... [She darts forward and puts her hand over Mrs. Floyd’s mouth.] Shhhh!

Mrs. Floyd

[Sputtering.] Say....

Ma Fishyer

[She glances terror-stricken to door.] Pleese to go now—he-he’s comin’, h-he’s c-comin’!

Mrs. Floyd

What of it? I ain’t skeered of him.

Ma Fishyer

P-pleese, not now! [Desperately.] Not now—come efter vile ... pleese ... [Tugs at her dress.]

Mrs. Floyd

[Rising.] All right! I’ll go! [Shakes her off.] But stop pushing! I’m going! [Hobbles up the stairs and slams door. Before Ma Fishyer can breathe her relief, she opens the door again.] But I’ll be back later!

Ma Fishyer

Yess, yess, l-later....

[Scarcely has the door closed after Mrs. Floyd when Pa Fishyer enters wearily from door Right.]

Fishyer

[Throwing his denim jacket over Morris chair.] Huh! [He strides over to the sink and begins washing himself.] Huh! Supper ready?

Ma Fishyer

[At the table.] A-almost....

Fishyer

[He growls.] Almost? Don’tcha know yess or no? [He pushes up his spectacles and glares at the clock.] Vere’s Annie? It’s nearly six already!

Ma Fishyer

De c-clock iss a l-little f-fest.... [Walks nervously to window.]

Fishyer

Fest? Dat clock iss alvays right, yuh hear me? Alvays right!

Ma Fishyer

Yess, P-pa!

Fishyer

[His wrath increasing.] Vell, vere iss she?

Ma Fishyer

[Busies herself at stove.] Na, Pa, she’ll be h-here eny minute soon! Yuh know, h-how de l-lady k-keeps her! [She glances at the door through which Mrs. Floyd has left.] And m-maybe—in dis b-bed veather, she kent come at all!

Fishyer

Vat! [Drying his hands.]

Ma Fishyer

I—I mean—efen in good veather, only vunce a veek does she haff a day off.

Fishyer

Dat’ll do! [Throws towel on sink.] Ve vait ’til six ... [Takes Bible from table and seats himself in Morris chair.] ... and den ve eat! [Groans as he rubs his rheumatic left arm. Emil enters from door Right.] Na, Dummy, vat did she vant? [Points upward.]

Emil

[Timidly.] She fergot her key and....

Fishyer

... and yuh hed to open de door for her! [He growls.] Vy don’t yuh say dat right avay? [He begins reading the Bible, following each word with his finger.]

Ma Fishyer

Come, Emil ... [She nods warningly in Fishyer’s direction.] ... and vash yerself.

Fishyer

[He reads laboriously.] “Train op a child in de vay he should go ... [Glares at Emil and then repeats.] ... de vay he should go! [Reads.] ... and ven he iss old ... [Repeats to himself.] ... old ... he vill not depart from it....”

[There is a knock at the outer door Left and Ma Fishyer stands transfixed, her face ashen. Emil, his hands half-washed, looks inquiringly at his father.]

Fishyer

Na, open de door!

Emil

[Hurriedly wiping his hands on his trousers, he mounts the steps and opens the door.] Whatcha want?

Miss Page

Good evening! Does Annie Fishyer live here?

Emil

Yeh ... [He shuffles back to the sink.] ... come on in!

Miss Page

[Descending the stairs.] Thank you. I wasn’t quite sure. [Kindly to Ma Fishyer.] You must be Annie’s mother and....

Fishyer

I em Karl Fishyer!

Miss Page

Ah, yes, Annie’s father. [She smiles her quick warm smile.] I don’t think you know me. I am Miss Page, a special investigator from the Morals Court!

Ma Fishyer

[Tremulously to Fishyer.] De lady, Pa, de l-lady vat Annie v-vorks f-for....

Fishyer

So?

Miss Page

[Surprised.] Works for me?

Ma Fishyer

[Hurriedly.] Pleese to come and sit down, Mis’, here on de sofa! [She deftly dusts the sofa with a swish of her apron and then steps back and looks at Miss Page apprehensively.]

Miss Page

I think you are mistaking me.... [She stops as she sees Ma Fishyer’s drawn face.]

Ma Fishyer

[Indicating the sofa.] P-pleese, Mis’....

[Pa Fishyer meanwhile replaces the Bible on the table. Miss Page sits down without another word.]

Ma Fishyer

[Quickly.] Annie a-ain’t home yet, b-but....

Miss Page

[Puzzled.] Isn’t home yet? Are you expecting her?

Fishyer

Huh? [He turns towards them.] Shure—I expect her to come!

Ma Fishyer

Y-yess, she always c-c-comes here on her day off—Pa means!

Miss Page

[Probing gently.] Her day off?

Ma Fishyer

Maybe she n-nefer tells yuh, b-but she alvays c-c-comes here Thursdays. [She wets her lips.] D-don’t she, Pa?

Fishyer

[Grudgingly] Huh! [To Miss Page.] Since she’s vid yuh, Mis’, yess!

Ma Fishyer

[She talks to Miss Page, but her eyes are anxiously on Fishyer.] And efery cent vat she earns by yuh, she brings to her Pa!

Miss Page

She—does what? [Drawing off her gloves.]

Ma Fishyer

E-efery cent she brings to her Pa! She iss a fine girl....

Fishyer

[Cutting her short.] Vat’s dot to brag ofer?

Miss Page

[Soothingly.] Well, I’m sure Annie is....

Ma Fishyer

[Eagerly.] Yuh hear, Pa? Efen Mis’ Page sez vat a fine Annie ve got.

Fishyer

Huh, she’s purty goot now! But before she vent mit yuh, Mis’ ... [He clenches his fist in wrath.] ... I—her fadder—didn’t know vhere she vas for three months efen.... [Miss Page suppresses a start.]

Ma Fishyer

[Imploringly.] But Pa, yuh know now vere she vas! [To Miss Page.] H-he m-means de time ven she v-vas by yuh in ... [She swallows hard.] ... de country.

[Miss Page conceals her astonishment.]

Fishyer

Efen ef she vas....

Ma Fishyer

... and how vell she looked ven....

Fishyer

... she come home agen! [He paces angrily back and forth.] I hear dot a million times already, too!

Ma Fishyer

But P-pa....

Fishyer

All I say iss—dot’s no vay to treat yur fadder! And efter de strict bringing op I giff de children, dey must remember—alvays—dat I em dere fadder! I em de boss here! [To Emil crouching against the wall.] Yuh hear me?

Ma Fishyer

[Imploringly.] Pa, pleese, Pa.

Fishyer

[Glaring at the clock.] It’s six; ve eat now! [He seats himself at table Right and begins slicing bread, motions Emil to his seat, Emil sits facing the audience.]

Miss Page

[She has been watching them attentively.] Yes, don’t let me interrupt you!

Fishyer

I alvays eat at six! [Turns towards stove.] Vere iss dot girl? [Ma comes to table with platter of stew which she places quickly before him.] Vat time yuh let her come to-day, Mis’...?

[Before she can answer, steps are heard and Annie enters hurriedly from the areaway door.]

Fishyer

Dere she iss! [Points at her with knife.]

Annie

[Breathlessly.] Oh, Pa, I couldn’t ... I couldn’t help it, I wuz.... [She sees Emil’s finger surreptitiously signaling Miss Page’s presence. She gives Miss Page a terror-stricken look, then shrinks back against the wall for support.]

Annie

[Gasps] Oh!

Ma Fishyer

[She goes towards her quickly and holding her tight against her breast, speaks so as to give her time to recover.] Ach, no vunder she iss surprised to see her lady here!

Annie

[Clinging to her.] Ma!

Miss Page

[Slowly, with great significance.] I had an errand to do in this neighborhood, Annie, and as I passed this house, I stopped in ... [Sees Ma Fishyer’s pleading look.] ... to ... to get acquainted with your parents!

Fishyer

And ve are gled to know yuh also. [He motions to the table.] Yuh eat mit us?

[Emil pushes out Annie’s chair for her.]

Miss Page

No, thank you. If you don’t mind, I’ll just sit here.

Fishyer

Shure! Make yurself to home.

[He bangs on the table with his knife.] Ma, ve eat now!

[Annie hangs her coat and hat on coat rack.]

Fishyer

[Motioning to Annie.] Sit down! [Annie slips into her chair, facing her father. Ma Fishyer brings coffee pot to table.]

Miss Page

[Observing Emil with interest.] I didn’t know Annie had a brother.

Ma Fishyer

[Hurriedly, before Fishyer can answer.] Ach, yess, and sotch a good boy! He helps his Pa take care off de house.

Fishyer

[Grudgingly.] Huh!

Ma Fishyer

[Dishing out the food to Emil and Annie.] And some day, he’ll be a jeniter, too! And like our coffee man sez: “Jeniter vork iss nuthin’ to sneeze at!” So vat vid Pa’s rheumatism, ve are gled to haff Emil help so nice!

Fishyer

Emil—bahhh! [Emil crouches behind his mother’s arm.]

Ma Fishyer

And yuh haff no idea, Mis’, how mutch vork dere iss here to do! [Pours coffee.] So vid our Emil....

[Fishyer laughs derisively.]

Miss Page

[Soothingly.] Yes, you must be kept very busy, Mr. Fishyer!

Fishyer

Bizzy? Yuh don’t know it, Mis’, how crazy ... [He points upward with his knife.] ... dose vomens get me! First, vun comes and sez de vater iss too hot—dat efery time she turns it on—she a Turkish bath gets! Den.... [The phone rings.] Yuh see, not efen peace on a meal I got.... [Pushes back his chair.]

Ma Fishyer

Vait, Pa, I go! [She hurries to phone.] Hollo! Yess, Mis’ Richards, yess, he iss by de boiler ... [Pa Fishyer motions for Emil to go out.] ... puttin’ more coal on! Yess, mam! [She turns from phone just in time to see Emil’s scowling gesture at his father’s back.] Emil! [Grabs his cap in frantic haste.] Yur cap ... [Pushes him towards door Right.] ... quick!

[Pa Fishyer, unaware of what is passing in back of his chair, pounds the table emphatically, with his fist.

With a terrified look, Emil rushes out, letting Ma Fishyer close the door behind him.]

Fishyer

[He raises his head stubbornly.] I tell yuh, dat voman could by de devil sit and yet be cold!

Ma Fishyer

Yess, yess, Pa! But ve are gled to haff dis job! And vat ... mit our Emil and Annie helpin’ so nice....

Fishyer

Helpin’! Bahhhh!

Ma Fishyer

Ach, Mis’ Page, efery night I thank de good Gott for my Annie....

Annie

[She turns quickly and gives her Mother a beseeching glance.] Ma ... oh, M-ma.... [Her coffee cup falls from her nerveless hand, spilling its contents on her dress.]

Fishyer

Huh!

Annie

Pa ... P-pa ... it slipped! I—I’ll change my dress! [She rushes out door Right.]

Fishyer

[Looks after her.] Huh!

[Accuses Ma Fishyer while he dips his bread in his coffee.] Fine manners, she got!

[Phone rings again.]

Ma Fishyer

[Running to phone.] Yess, yess, Mis’ Richards! [Into receiver.] Hollo.... Yess, Mis’ Richards, he iss....

Fishyer

[Exasperated.] Oh, vat a dummy of a son, I got! [To Ma Fishyer.] Maybe he fell in de coal bin again! [Exits door Right rubbing his rheumatic left arm.]

[Ma Fishyer turns from the phone, listens a moment at the door through which Pa Fishyer has gone, then quickly crosses the room to Miss Page. Her whole manner has changed; she seems to have shrunk suddenly.]

Ma Fishyer

I em gled to know yuh, Mis’! [She clasps and unclasps her hands.] And my Annie—my Annie....

Miss Page

[Gently.] Sit down, Mrs. Fishyer!

Ma Fishyer

[She sinks down in Annie’s chair at the left of the table.] She—she iss mit y-yuh?

Miss Page

[Compassionately.] In a way—yes.

Ma Fishyer

In a vay?

Miss Page

Yes, I am interested in her welfare and am looking after her.

Ma Fishyer

[Scarcely audible.] S-she don’t live m-mit yuh?

Miss Page

Not exactly....

Ma Fishyer

Ach, don’t tell dis to Pa! [In despair.] Pleese, pleese, don’t tell him enyding vat iss agenst her!

Miss Page

[Leaning forward.] I don’t understand.

Ma Fishyer

If—if he knows eferyding [Swallowing with difficulty.] ... h-he kills her!

Miss Page

[Gently.] Do you know everything about her?

Ma Fishyer

[Terrified.] No, no, don’t tell me! Pleese not to tell me! I don’t vant to know!

Miss Page

Not even when you may be able to help her?

Ma Fishyer

[Shaking her head.] All I kin do ... [Motioning to the boiler room.] ... iss to keep him from findin’ out d-dings about her! [She looks her full in the face.] I don’t vant to know enyding agenst my Annie!

Miss Page

[Puzzled.] But if you remain in ignorance—how can you be of assistance?

Ma Fishyer

[Tremulously.] I kin help her only by—knowin’ nodding.

Miss Page

What do you mean? You as her mother should be anxious to know.

Ma Fishyer

Yess, yuh haff right! But yuh don’t know Pa! [She whispers.] He alvays suspicions eferybody! Me—Emil—Annie! He dinks I hide from him someding about de children! [She pauses.] And den—it best iss I don’t know dings. [Slowly.] Ven yuh don’t know dings, he kent be scoldin’ yuh all de time!

Miss Page

[Aghast.] But—why should he?

Ma Fishyer

[Bitterly.] Ach, vy! Vy should he? [She passes her hand across her eyes.] Vat kin yuh do mit a man vat hass in his head only vun idea!

Miss Page

One idea?

Ma Fishyer

Vun idea! [Brokenly.] Dot all children should be brought op strict—mit mutch scoldin’ and vhippin’.

Miss Page

[Indignantly.] But can’t you convince him that such harsh methods....

Ma Fishyer

[Sobs.] I k-kin do nodding mit him—no vun kin! [She beats her clenched fist against her forehead.] He hass dot vun idea in his head and ... [She stares frantically at the door through which Mrs. Floyd has gone.] ... h-he must n-nefer find out!

Miss Page

Find out what? [As Ma Fishyer rocks back and forth weeping.] Don’t be afraid. Tell me.

Ma Fishyer

[Tearfully.] Pleese, Mis’ Page, don’t let him find out dings a-agenst A-Annie! [Weeps.] P-p-pleese, pleese see I go on m-my knees t-to yuh! [Sinks down at Miss Page’s knees.] Pleese ... p-p-pleese!

Miss Page

[Her eyes filled with tears.] Don’t cry, don’t! [She places her arm around her shaking shoulders.] Why didn’t you come to see me?

Ma Fishyer

[Weeping as she grasps Miss Page’s hands in agony.] Ach, I vanted to c-come so m-meny t-times and esk yuh ... take c-care off Annie! L-look efter her ... b-but I vas afraid!

Miss Page

Afraid?

Ma Fishyer

Yess, because ... m-maybe....

Miss Page

[She looks with sudden understanding towards Annie’s chair.] ... there was no Miss Page?

Ma Fishyer

Yess! But n-now I seen yuh! [She grasps her arms convulsively.] Yuh vill l-look out for her, von’t yuh? [She wails.] It iss all I haff in de vorld—my two c-children—all I haff. [Sinks weeping bitterly against Miss Page.]

[Emil’s whimpering cry is heard from the boiler room.]

Emil

M-ma! Oh, Ma!

Ma Fishyer

[She starts up.] It’s Emil! Yuh vill oxcuse me? [Wearily.] I gotta go—he forgot agen to open de valve maybe! [She grabs her shawl from the coat rack.] And Pa mit hiss rheumatism kent reach op....

[Miss Page rises.]

Fishyer

[Angrily from the boiler room.] Ma! Yuh hear me?

Ma Fishyer

Yess, Pa! [To Miss Page.] Yuh vill take care off her?

Fishyer

Ma! Come here!

Ma Fishyer

[She chokes back the tears as she opens the door to the boiler room.] Yess, Pa, I em c-comin’! [She whispers back to Miss Page.] And pleese, alvays to remember—Pa should know nodding agenst her. [She backs out murmuring.] No-nodding ... n-nodding.

[Miss Page dries her own tears and looks about the room with distaste. Then she goes resolutely to the door Right and opens it.]

Miss Page

[Calling softly.] Annie! Annie! [Motions.] Come out here! [Miss Page walks to table.]

[Annie enters and closes door softly. She listens attentively, her face pressed against the door.]

Miss Page

[Back of Emil’s chair.] What have you been telling them?

Annie

[On the defensive.] Nuthin’ much ... only that I worked for ya as a hired girl!

Miss Page

Why did you do that?

Annie

[Back of arm chair.] So’s to get away from here! If he thought I wuz a dish washer in a restaurant I’d hafta live here! [She shudders.] Nuthin’ doin’! I had seventeen years of it!

Miss Page

Yes, but still this is your home.

Annie

Yeh! [Tremulously.] And I know what it’s like!

Miss Page

Didn’t you tell anyone? [Annie shakes her head.] Not even your mother?

Annie

[Goes quickly towards Miss Page. Aghast.] And have him beat it outta her? Whadda ya think I am?

Miss Page

[Puzzled.] Why did you tell them you worked for me?

Annie

Well, I—I hadda give somebody’s name and yuh wuz de only one I could think of! [Glances quickly towards closed door Right, then pleads.] B-before that happened last year, Miss Page, I n-nearly w-went crazy, and when I fell over that time and ya sent m-me to de home until e-everything wuz over.... I—j-jest sorta never forgotcha!

Miss Page

[Severely.] Yes, but what has that to do with all this?

Annie

W-well, I n-needed some sorta alibi fer stayin’ away from here ... [Moves slowly down stage Right.] ... s-so I—I told ’em I worked for ya and that ya wuz goin’ out to de c-country and I hadda go ’long!

Miss Page

[Insistent.] And what else?

Annie

W-well, when I got outta de hospital, I stuck to my story and only came here Thursdays.

Miss Page

[With a helpless gesture.] Oh, Annie, why can’t you behave yourself?

Annie

[Vehemently.] I do, Miss Page, honest I do! [Crosses to Lower Left to escape Miss Page’s searching eyes.] B-but I can’t help it if there’s a-always somebody s-snitchin’ on ya!

Miss Page

[Reproachfully.] Snitching! But Annie....

Annie

[Nervously, twisting and untwisting her belt.] I d-don’t care what they say! I—I didn’t pick up with that feller on de s-street! He—h-he wuz in de room when I g-got in last night!

Miss Page

[Coming towards her, slowly.] And how did he get there?

Annie

[Feebly.] Oh—er—one of de girls musta let’m have de key!

Miss Page

[Sadly.] Those girls! [Annie shrinks further away.] Why do you live with them? You promised me the last time, you wouldn’t have anything more to do with Mame and Lottie!

Annie

[Haltingly.] But they’se so good to me, Mis’ Page! I gotta live some place ... it might as well be with dem....

Miss Page

... and get yourself constantly into trouble?

Annie

[Protesting.] Oh, Mis’ Page! Ya don’t want me to live here, do ya? [Tremulously.] Gee, if it wuzn’t fer Ma I’d n-never come h-here! B-but Ma ... [Her whole heart is in her voice.] ... she’s m-my M-ma ... [Sobs.] ... s-she’s m-my M-m-ma!

Miss Page

[Walks up and puts her arm around Annie’s shaking shoulders, holds her tight.] What’s going to become of you, Annie?

Annie

[With hopeless shrug.] I dunno—and I don’t care! [Moves away.] Just so long ... [Nods to door Right.] ... as he don’t ketch on!

Miss Page

[Walks thoughtfully back a few steps towards door Right before turning.] Do you know why I came here to-night?

Annie

N-no.

Miss Page

I came here to find out the kind of home you have, so when I see the Judge ... [Annie looks up startled.] ... to-morrow morning, I can tell him a little more about you!

Annie

[Whispers.] A-about me?

Miss Page

Yes! [Earnestly.] I’ve always been on the square with you, haven’t I, Annie? [Annie nods.] And I want to help you all I can. But you’ve been picked up four times during the last five months for loitering on the streets late at night! [As Annie starts to appeal.] And last night the police raided the flat you were in!

Annie

[Protesting.] But honest, Mis’ Page, I couldn’t help it! [She looks about her like an hunted animal.] Ya see, I wuz ... wuz ... shhh!

[The areaway door has opened and Mrs. Floyd appears on top stair.]

Mrs. Floyd

[Her beady eyes glisten in anticipation as she surveys Annie.] Hello, there! [She stumps down the stairs.]

Annie

[Instinctively on the defensive.] H-hello! [Moves forward to head her off.] Ma’s helping’ Pa!

[Miss Page crosses to sofa.]

Mrs. Floyd

[Shaking off Annie’s restraining hand.] Oh, is she now! [Pulls out Emil’s chair.] Then I’ll wait fer her!

Annie

[In desperate fear, jerks her around.] I toldja, she’s helpin’ Pa!

Mrs. Floyd

[Flinging her against the cupboard.] Lissen, girlie, I gotcha de first time!

[Ma Fishyer enters hastily from door Right.]

Annie

[Almost hysterical in her fright.] Then beat it!

Ma Fishyer

Ach, Mis’ Floyd, I heard yuh close yur door! Ve—ve heff company now ... maybe it be better ve go on to yer flet....

Mrs. Floyd

Oh, this suits me, I ain’t pertic’ler! [Seats herself in Emil’s chair. Watching Annie signalling to Miss Page.] Who’s her friend?

Ma Fishyer

[Nervously.] Oxcuse me, but dis iss Annie’s Mis’ Page....

Mrs. Floyd

[In response to Miss Page’s nod.] Pleased to meetcha! [Annie crosses over to her Mother and whispers distractedly in her ear.]

Ma Fishyer

Ve ain’t finished our supper yet! Maybe it’s better I come ofer and see yuh efter vile.

Mrs. Floyd

[Not to be budged.] After while nuthin’! What did she say?

[Pa Fishyer enters unnoticed, wiping his hands.]

Ma Fishyer

[Piteously.] Pleese, Mis’ Floyd, eny minute now ... Pa ... Pa comes....

Mrs. Floyd

[She thumbs towards Annie.] Did she say she wuz arrested?

Fishyer

Arrested! [All look up in surprise. Annie cowers against the sink.] Who vas arrested?

Ma Fishyer

[At bay.] Ach, Mis’ Floyd hass just been talkin’—er—no vitch vay to me, h’aintcha, Mis’ Floyd?

Fishyer

Na—all right! [He thunders at his wife.] But who vas arrested?

Mrs. Floyd

Who? [Spitefully.] Well, Mr. Fishyer, a’course, it ain’t none of my business, but seeing what good neighbors we been and how pertic’ler ya wuz to let me know that my son is a good-fer-nuthin’ loafer—I take great pleasure ta letcha know that one of yer swell family is, wuz or will be arrested!

Fishyer

Vat? My family vat I bring up so strict?

Mrs. Floyd

[She cackles derisively.] Uhuh! Ain’t it the limit?

Fishyer

[Purpling with rage.] Who iss it?

Ma Fishyer

[Clinging to his arm.] Pa, pleese, ... P-Pa....

Fishyer

[He shakes her off.] Na, are yuh deef? Na—who I say?

Mrs. Floyd

[Vindictively.] Who else but yer Annie!

[Annie becomes deathly pale and shrinks against the wall Lower Right.]

Fishyer

[Turns furiously.] Vat?

Ma Fishyer

[She thrusts herself between Fishyer and Annie. Frantically.] Mis’ Page, Mis’ Page....

Annie

[Clasping her mother convulsively, whimpers.] M-ma!

Miss Page

[Quickly.] There—there must be some mistake! Where did you hear this, Mrs. Floyd?

Mrs. Floyd

Well ... a friend of mine went ta the Domestic Relation Court ta-day ta see about that husband of her’n—a perfect brute....

Fishyer

[Impatiently.] Yeh, nefer mind about de brute!

Mrs. Floyd

And so I went along, because I been readin’ a dandy story about the Morals Court—yeh know ... [She winks to Miss Page as she thumbs in Annie’s direction.] ... where them girls are taken ... anda so I sez ta myself ... sez I ...

Fishyer

[Exasperated.] Vat?

Mrs. Floyd

That’s what I’m comin’ ta. So I sez ta myself, I’ll visit the Morals Court and see if them fellas from the papers tells the truth! [Fishyer almost beside himself with frenzy.] But I stayed so long with my friend that the Judge wuz jest closin’ fer the day. But who should I see there—but Annie!

Fishyer

[Choking with wrath, turns wildly with up-lifted fist towards Annie.] Annie, come here!

Ma Fishyer

[Holding him back.] Don’t, Pa, pleese, don’t....

Fishyer

[Trying to loosen her hold.] Keep quiet!

Miss Page

[Resolutely.] That isn’t anything at all, Mr. Fishyer!

Fishyer

[Bellows.] Vat more yuh vant, efter bringin’ up a girl so strict?

Ma Fishyer

[Screams in terror as she feels herself overpowered.] Pa, pleese, P-pa....

Fishyer

Vill yuh keep qviet! [Furiously to Annie, whimpering in terror.] First, I giff yuh someding to remember me by ... and den out off de house yuh go!

Ma Fishyer

[Fighting to hold him back.] N-no, Pa, don’t....

Fishyer

[Throwing her on the floor in front of table.] Get out off my vay, Ma! [He shouts enraged.] Annie, come here! Yuh hear me! [He grasps her left arm and jerks her towards him.]

Annie

[Writhing in pain as he tightens his hold.] No—no! It’s—it’s a lie—a lie....

Mrs. Floyd

[Rising in surprise.] Huh!

Annie

Yes, it is! [She glares about her with the desperation of a trapped animal.] Yes, it is! I—I wuz ... there ... [She points sobbingly to Miss Page.] ... with her!

Fishyer

Mit her? Mis’ Page?

Annie

[Trying to loosen his grip.] Yes, I wuz helpin’ her carry her books ... [She nods to Mrs. Floyd.] ... when she musta seen me!

[Miss Page is startled at Annie’s lie.]

Fishyer

[Tightening his cruel hold until she falls sobbing on her knees.] Vat yuh mean?

Annie

[The words fairly tumble from her twitching lips.] Mis’ Page works fer de Judge—h-helps him.... And I often go to de court with h-her ... don’t I, Mis’ Page?

[An agonizing second. Miss Page gives one glance at Ma Fishyer’s prostrated form on the floor and then rises to the occasion.]

Miss Page

Yes! She’s always there with me!

Annie

[Sobs.] And—I been there lots of times, ain’t I, Mis’ Page?

[Quickly before Miss Page can reply, Ma Fishyer thrusts herself between Pa Fishyer and Annie.]

Ma Fishyer

[Tries to separate his iron grip from Annie’s arm.] Yuh see, Pa? yuh see?

Fishyer

[To Miss Page, slightly mollified.] Ef she’s vid yuh, Mis’ ... dot’s all right, den! [Flings Annie and Ma Fishyer from him. While Ma Fishyer tenderly kisses Annie’s arm he turns wrathfully towards Mrs. Floyd.] BUT! [Mrs. Floyd, who seeing his intentions, scurries up the stairs.] ... Good-bye, Mis’ Floyd! [Runs up the stairs and shouts after her.] And next time yuh look first before yuh jump! [Crashes door after her.]

[Ma Fishyer is holding Annie tightly in her arms. Both are weeping.]

Fishyer

So! [Comes down stairs.] Dis should be a lesson for yuh, Annie! Yuh see now vat maybe heppens ef I don’t bring yuh up so strict! [Shakes fist after Mrs. Floyd.] Dat cat vat just left might be in de right!

[Emil re-enters and moves wonderingly towards sink.]

Ma Fishyer

[Her breath sobbing in her throat.] Y-yess, Pa, y-yess....

Fishyer

[Sternly flinging her away from Annie so that she falls into Emil’s arms.] Let her alone, Ma! Vat kind off bringin’ up is dot? [To Miss Page.] I tell yuh, Mis’, my fadder alvays said: “Order rules de vorld, but man iss ruled vid de vhip!” And he vas right! [Glares at Annie.] He ruled us vid a hand off iron! [To Miss Page.] And look on me! I haf de greatest respect for my fadder! [Gives them all a menacing look.] And I do de same! Alvays am I strict and ven dey grow old, dey’ll tank me for it!

[He sits down at the table and motions Emil to his seat again. Emil sidles into his chair guardedly. Pa Fishyer begins his meal, dipping his chunk of rye bread in the gravy. Miss Page notices the looks of hatred darted at Pa Fishyer by both Annie and Emil.]

Miss Page

[Curiously.] And—did you love your father, Mr. Fishyer?

Fishyer

[Taken aback.] Lofe? [He stops with his coffee cup half-way.] Shure, I lofe him ven I respect him! [Grimly.] Huh! [Cracking an imaginary whip.] He’d made us dance to de muzik off de stick ef ve didn’t lofe him! Shure.... [He pauses.] ... Shure, de children alvays lofe ... [Fixes his eye on Emil who immediately stops drinking his coffee.] ... de fadder!

[Emil draws back in consternation.]

Miss Page

[Seeing the futility of the situation, turns thoughtfully to the sofa for her gloves and purse.] Well, it’s late and I must be going! [She pauses a second in thought, then comes to a decision.] By the way, Mr. Fishyer, would you mind if I take Annie with me?

Fishyer

Right avay? I vanted to giff her a good talkin’ to, yet!

Miss Page

[Pulling on her gloves.] I’m so sorry, but I’m leaving for the country early in the morning....

Ma Fishyer

[Staring fixedly at Miss Page.] De c-country?

Miss Page

[Smiling at her, very gently.] The real country, Mrs. Fishyer!

Fishyer

[He grunts, between mouthfuls.] Shure, mit yuh it’s all right! [Over his shoulder to Annie.] Put on yur tings, Annie!

[For a moment, while his back is turned, Ma Fishyer crushes Annie sobbingly to her breast, kissing her again and again.]

Annie

[Covering her Mother’s tear-stained cheeks with kisses, she whispers brokenly.] Don’t Ma, don’t, I’ll be good! I’ll be good!

Ma Fishyer

[Sobs, clinging to her.] Annie ... [Miss Page, separating the two, holds Ma Fishyer tight in her arms.] Little Annie!

Miss Page

[While Annie gets her coat and hat from the coat rack.] Good-bye, Mrs. Fishyer, you needn’t worry! [Looks sternly at Pa Fishyer, unconcernedly, eating his meal.] I’ll take good care of your Annie!

[Ma Fishyer, unable to utter a word, leans over and kisses Miss Page’s hand. Miss Page turns and mounts the stairs leading to the areaway. As she opens the door, Fishyer looks up.]

Fishyer

Good-bye, Mis’, and ef she don’t behave herself ... [Annie clings to her. He balls his fist.] ... yuh just let me know!

Miss Page

[Her arm protectingly around Annie, she eyes him, half sadly, half ironically.] Yes, indeed! You’d be a great help!

Fishyer

[Nods his self-satisfaction and takes his second cupful of coffee.] Shure!

[The curtain descends as Ma Fishyer leans heavily against Emil’s chair, her eyes following the two disappearing through the doorway.]

CURTAIN

The cast of “The Undercurrent” at the Palace Theatre, New York City, January 20-26, 1929

SCENE DESIGN

‘THE UNDERCURRENT’

Los Angeles, California, October 7-13, 1928

LOS ANGELES EXAMINER OCTOBER 19, 1928

THE TURNING POINT

GLADYS PFEFFER and CURT BENISCH in “The Undercurrent,” at the Hillstreet.—(Drawing by Ellen Danar.)