Class of 29 | Page 5

their jobs.
TIPPY. So what are you talking about?
KEN. I've been living off dad for five years.
TIPPY. Starving off him.
KEN. Don't blame dad. I set the amount under Hoover. Bishops aren't economists.
TIPPY. You sent the check back and asked for a new deal?
KEN. No.
TIPPY. [Patiently.] Why did you send the check back?
KEN. I'm through letting dad pay me for piddling around here.
TIPPY. But Ken, be reasonable. The landlord must eat.
KEN. Then give him back this place. He can eat the cockroaches.
TIPPY. No tickee, no shirtee; no money, no housee. [Pause.] And there's the little matter of our own nutrition.
KEN. I don't expect you and Martin to feed me.
TIPPY. I doubt if we could.
KEN. Martin's right, Tippy. You ought to clear out of here and take that place you wanted.
TIPPY. Hell, that place has been taken. Bargains like that don't wait.
KEN. There are other places. But you won't get one as long as you stay here and we graft off of you. You've been buying half the grub for the four of us. You fudge the bills against yourself. You're a goddam fool.
TIPPY. Must you bring that up?
KEN. Listen, Tippy. Martin can take care of himself, anywhere. He loves flop houses and flop people.
TIPPY. And what about Ted?
KEN. Ted is Kate's problem.
KATE. Why do you feel so bitter toward him?
KEN. [Savagely.] If you'll recall, we only took him in temporarily because your mother was coming.
[Angrily, to TIPPY.] Why the hell do you have to plan for Ted? Or Martin? Or me? I'm not planning for anyone.--I'm clearing out.
TIPPY. Where are you going?
KEN. That's my affair. I'm packing tonight and leaving tomorrow. [He goes into bedroom.]
KATE. Lord, what a mess!
TIPPY. Katie, I'm afraid our children are showing too much spirit.
KATE. What's Ken planning? Going on Laura?
TIPPY. Lord, no.
KATE. I'd hardly think so with all that bluff at independence! [Pause.]
TIPPY. How much did you girls, as seniors, put down as your expectation of earning power in five years?
KATE. We didn't do such sordid things at Vassar. And besides, it's been six years, not five.
TIPPY. Class of '29. Six years, and six of us. Well, we've stuck together. In solidarity there is strength.
KATE. This looks like a bust up.
TIPPY. Look here, Kate, you'll take care of Ted, won't you?
KATE. Why should I?
TIPPY. [Snappily.] As an investment. Business is picking up. Stocks are going up. Culture is coming back. More dogs are being washed. Rare books will come next.
KATE. So what?
TIPPY. Ted was born a gentleman. The rest of us merely went to Harvard.
KATE. Believe it or not.
TIPPY. Katie, the coming revolution is poppycock. What's coming is the same damn thing we used to have. And when it gets back it'll take its old darlings back into its lap. Ted is one of them. So hold his hand a little longer.
[There is a hanging against the door with a foot. TIPPY opens door, and LAURA enters with a tall sack of groceries, which she shoves into TIPPY'S arms.]
LAURA. Hello. Where's the gang?
TIPPY. Some are in and some are out.
KATE. We speak of Fortune and Dame Fortune walks in.
LAURA. Bringing her own tea.
TIPPY. Fortune. Tea. Ceres. Cornucopia. [Drops bag on arm, posing as Goddess with the horn of plenty, and spewing groceries over the table, fruit rolling to floor.]
KEN. [Entering from bedroom.] What in ...?
TIPPY. Tea.
KATE. Thank God it wasn't eggs.
LAURA. [To KEN.] Hello, darling.
[TIPPY retrieves groceries.]
KEN. [Severely.] What's the idea, Laura?
LAURA. What idea, honey?
KEN. You promised to quit it. There's plenty of grub here.
LAURA. But darling, I can't eat canned baked beans. My ulcer, you know.
KEN. You haven't any ulcer.
LAURA. Nor any baby. But doctors say nervous girls must be careful, or they'll have both.
KEN. Don't be a fool.
[TIPPY starts with bag to kitchen, KATE following. At door he warns her back.]
TIPPY. The preparing of this tea must be a strictly masculine affair, [KATE gestures toward KEN and LAURA.] I'm sorry, but I want tea. If a woman enters that kitchen, there won't be tea. There'll be house-cleaning. [He goes in and bolts door behind him. She tries it and finds it locked. She pretends to be interested in drawings, KEN has turned away from LAURA and there is a pause.]
LAURA. [Casually.] Anything new, dear?
KEN. [Savagely.] No. You always ask me that.
LAURA. It doesn't mean anything. Just a little light conversation to kill that first awkward moment.
KEN. It means, have I got a job.
LAURA. Have you?
KEN. No.
LAURA. Well, you will have one. And more than a job. Some day somebody will accept your plans for fabricated houses. And you'll be rich and famous.
KEN. If I kid myself, you needn't.
LAURA. But all this work, Ken ...
KEN. Won't come to anything. I do it from habit. I do it to keep from going crazy.
LAURA. You do it because you know that fabricated houses are the coming thing.
KEN. Hell