17. LIFE IS SHORT
TYPE:
Philosophical and attractive. Really sincere in his ideas; somewhat the missionary type but better looking.
SUBJECT:
Almost any girl without too much mentality. Pretty and rather spoiled because of it.
APPARATUS:
1 Canoe
REMARKS:
This lesson was an old one when Herrick counseled his young friends to gather rosebuds while it was still possible.
LIFE IS SHORT
(They are in a canoe, and the sun has just set, leaving behind it streaks of fading pink in the sky and on the water. It is spring, and the woods in the distance are losing their starkness. There is no breeze; the air is full of a premature languor that is not quite warmth. She lies half-prone, with her hand trailing in the lake; and he paddles slowly, watching her most of the time.)
She: Ooh, the water’s terribly cold. Have you gone swimming this spring?
You: Went in last week. But I was sorry. It’s colder than it looks from the diving-board. I was awfully surprised—it’s such a shock.
She: I wanted to try it today, it looked so warm. But I guess I’ll wait a while. Last year, all summer, we just lived in our suits. My suit was never dry. Don’t you love to swim? It’s my favorite exercise.
You: I think I like sailing better. It’s so fast.
She: Then you ought to like ice-boating. It’s much faster.
You: No. It’s too noisy. Fast things ought to be quiet. That’s the trouble with flying in a machine. It isn’t really flying unless you have wings. That must be the best feeling in the world. Flying in a storm....
She: I wouldn’t want the storm. I haven’t that much pep. Swimming’s nice because you can lie around so much.
You: You’re a lazy little thing, aren’t you?
She: That’s what they say at home.
You: I like it. I hate these girls who are always trying to be better than you are in everything. They’re usually funny-looking, too. If they were pretty they wouldn’t worry so much about beating people.
She: You have such old-fashioned ideas. Well, I guess you’re right. I like to be waited on. People do things for me. I like it.... Oh, look at that cloud. It’s getting rougher than it was—We must be drifting out.
You: Yes, it goes faster than you’d think. There’s a little wind blowing up. (Starts paddling fast.)
She: Going anywhere?
You: Well, I know a place that is pretty sheltered. Say, I’m getting cold up here. Do you mind if I get down there with you?
She: No, that’s all right.
(You start to step over the intervening bar, and the canoe sways dangerously. She screams loudly.)
She: Look OUT! You’re tipping us!
You: (Laughing and settling down next to her) Gosh, what a funny squeal! I never tip canoes: don’t you know that? Have a cigarette.
She: Thanks. The lake looks pretty, doesn’t it? Just in this light.
You: Did you ever notice, it’s never the same. Look at that boat way over there.
She: It looks so little.
You: It’s funny. This is a little lake, but that boat looks tiny on it just the same.
She: (Uncomprehending) Yes.
You: I mean we’re really awfully small when you think about things. Stars and things. Look at that star there——
She: First one! I’ll wish on it. (She closes her eyes.)
You: It’s a little bit of a star, but I wonder what it thinks about us. Probably it doesn’t even know you’re wishing on it. Just think, it can’t even see us. Just a little spot of light.
She: I don’t like to feel that way. I want to be seen.
You: I think it’s a good feeling to know that I don’t matter so much. I always remember it when I’m worried about an exam. It’s a bad habit, though, because if you start remembering it too soon you don’t even bother to study.
She: I shouldn’t think anybody would. I never feel that way unless I need sleep. I hate it; feeling that way.
You: You’re too practical. I think I have more fun my way. (Smile at her and flick your cigarette into the water.)
She: I don’t see that. I don’t worry, anyway.
You: No, but look. You take exams seriously and spend all your time studying or fixing clothes or something. Something really important. Don’t you?
She: Yes. Only the thing I worry about most is dancing. That’s important too.
You: Well, look at it my way. Look how long the world has been going on without me and my exams. Look how long it will go on, probably, after I’m dead. Look how short life is anyway.
She: Yes....
You: Well, I just do what I like. Studying isn’t one of those things, see? Nobody really likes to study.
She: I do.
You: No you don’t. You don’t really like to keep your stockings mended, or your hair curled. You just like the feeling afterwards that you did what you should have done. Isn’t it true? Well, then, if someone hadn’t taught you to like that feeling you wouldn’t be doing those things. Now, the things I like, I wasn’t taught. I like to eat. Nobody ever had to tell me to do that. I like to sleep, and swim, and sail, and kiss girls, just because it’s fun. Itself. No reason for it, except that if I keep on this way I can go on doing these things and having fun until I die. I won’t want to die, then.
She: Well, I think you’re the lazy one. Where would we all be?...
You: I don’t know, but wherever it was we’d probably like it just as well.
(Lean over suddenly and kiss her.)
She: Don’t do that!
You: Why not? (Kiss her again.)
She: Stop. Why should I?
You: There you go again, asking questions. Why? Because it’s fun.
She: I don’t think it’s so much fun.
You: You haven’t really tried. Give me a chance. (Kiss her again.) Now what do you think of it?
She: Not very much. Let’s go on talking instead.
You: That’s queer. You always tell me I talk too much. I think you don’t mind this so much as you say.
She: You want to think so. I just don’t see why it’s so wonderful. I couldn’t possibly rave the way you do, that’s all.
You: I don’t rave. It’s because I know what I’m talking about and you don’t.
She: You have a lot of nerve.
You: Well, you can see for yourself that you’re no judge. You don’t know anything about it. You said so yourself. And besides, if you’re going to do so much talking about it you’re wasting time until you know something.
She: It’s no use trying to argue with you, is it? I’m going home.
You: Now you’re just running away because you lost the argument. It isn’t my fault. You said you wanted me to talk. All right; I’ll stop talking.
(Kiss her.)
She: No, I didn’t mean that. Stop. Please stop.
You: No, I won’t. You need convincing.
She: But....
You: You mustn’t talk for five minutes. That’s reasonable, isn’t it? Five minutes!
She: All right. (Seven minutes elapse.) The five minutes must be up.
You: What did you say?
She: The five minutes are over.
You: What of it? What’s five minutes when the whole evening will be over in a short time? All of the evenings will be over some day. And you’re quarreling about five minutes. Oh, stop talking!
She: But.... Oh, all right.