ACT II SCENE 10

 

SONG: DEAR MR JOYBOY

 

 

 

 

 

[The Happier Hunting Ground. DENNIS is alone when JOYBOY enters. For a moment JOYBOY stands motionless in the doorway]

 

DENNIS: Another parrot?
JOYBOY: It’s Aimée.
DENNIS: You’re not coming through, Joyboy. 

JOYBOY: She’s dead. Killed herself.

DENNIS: Oh. That is sad. Very sad indeed. This must be a very hard time for you, Joyboy. Your fiancée. Still, I never thought her quite sane, did you?
JOYBOY: [exploding] You killed my honey!
DENNIS: These are wild words, Joyboy.
JOYBOY: I loved her.
DENNIS: I’ve no time for sentiment. Take a page from your Whispering Glades rule book and gloss over the loss. [Pause] Why have you come to me? [JOYBOY is weeping] I can’t hear you.
JOYBOY: I need your help.
DENNIS: She’s your fiancée.
JOYBOY: It’s your fault.
DENNIS: Your problem, Joyboy.
JOYBOY: It’s the scandal. A girl under my supervision. I’ll be ruined.

DENNIS: You selfish bastard. And you said you loved her.
JOYBOY: Please – I need you to help me get rid of her.
DENNIS: How much?
JOYBOY: Four thousand dollars.
DENNIS: Make it five, plus a first-class ticket home. I want to return in the same style as I arrived. I have my image to consider as well.
JOYBOY: Agreed.
DENNIS: You really are desperate, aren’t you? Okay – as I see it, you have two problems, and let me emphasise they are yours. You are in possession of the corpse of your fiancée and your career is under threat. You therefore need to dispose of the body and to explain the disappearance. You come to me for help and it so happens that in both these things I, and only I can help you. We are happy-go-lucky people at The Happier Hunting Ground. There are no formalities. If I say “Mr Schultz, I’ve a sheep here to incinerate”, he says “Go ahead”. Once you seemed inclined to look down on us – now perhaps you feel differently. All we have to do is collect our loved one, if you will forgive the expression, and bring her here. Where have you put her, by the way?

JOYBOY: She’s outside. In the trunk.
DENNIS: Good. Now, secondly, to explain the disappearance. She had few friends and no relations. She disappears on the eve of her wedding – what could be more plausible than her eloping with her former lover? Natural good taste triumphing at the eleventh hour. All that is necessary is for me to disappear at the same time. No one in Southern California ever inquires what goes on beyond the mountains. There the matter will end.

JOYBOY: [handing over the money] I can’t bear to think of her going out like this.
DENNIS: Bit late now. Go fetch, Joyboy.

 

[JOYBOY exits. DENNIS turns out the lights and ignites the oven. Through its frosted glass door the flames jump and dance, illuminating the room with their glow. JOYBOY enters struggling with a body-bag. DENNIS puts on leather gloves and opens the oven. He pulls out a tray, and together they slide AIMÉE into the flames and close the door. A moment passes]

 

DENNIS: “God set her brave eyes wide apart And painted them with fire . . .”

JOYBOY: That’s the phoney poem!

DENNIS: “They stir the ashes of my heart to embers of desire.”

JOYBOY: How can you say that?

DENNIS: It’s really remarkably apposite, is it not?

 

[As the music swells, AIMÉE’s body combusts. The room is filled with dancing shadows. JOYBOY exits in horror. DENNIS waits for the inferno to subside. He turns off the oven. In the silence, only the sound of the hissing gas can be heard dying away. He goes to the desk and takes out a remembrance card and writes:]

 

VOICE 1:

DEAR MR JOYBOY

VOICE 2:
OUR CONDOLENCES TO YOU

VOICE 3:
THE ASHES OF YOUR LATE DECEASED

VOICE 1:
BY WAY OF COMMISERATION

VOICE 2:
I ENCLOSE THIS LITTLE THOUGHT 

 

DENNIS:

YOUR LITTLE AIMÉE

IN HEAVEN TODAY
IS THINKING OF YOU

AND WAGGING HER TAIL

 

[Smiling to himself, DENNIS places the card in an envelope. He goes to the cupboard, chooses a large urn, places it on the desk and leans the card against its side. Hands in pockets, he walks over to the oven and peers through the glass. He looks at his watch then lights a cigarette. He puts on his coat, picks up his suitcase and takes a final look around the room. Seeing the urn, he moves to the desk and, with deliberation, flicks his ash into it. He turns out the lights and exits. The glow of the oven slowly dies as – the curtain falls]

 

THE END