(Greenroom: Betty comes to)
Betty: Victor? Victor. . . Victor Comstock is resting in peace, and you, Betty Roberts, have not been resting enough. Memo to Miss Roberts: please note that in all future radio scripts ghosts will be described as wearing shrouds or sheets, and they will be heard dragging long chains behind them and carrying. . . (Victor enters) . . .dixie cups.
Victor: Betty. Thank God. I was afraid you were never going to come around. (he hands her the cup) Drink this.
Betty: What is it?
Victor: Oh, it’s water.
Betty: Water. Yes. . .yes. (she splashes herself)
Victor: Oh, Betty, I’ve already explained it to you. You’re not dreaming; I’m real. (Betty tosses the rest of the contents of the cup in his face) And that was intended to, um, melt me? In the tradition of, say, the Wicked Witch of the West? Betty, I need you to suspend disbelief for just a moment and believe in me.
Betty: You. . . Victor Comstock was killed in a terrible explosion in London.
Victor: Yes, but I’m feeling a lot better now. Betty, I know this is hard for you to accept, but it’s really me. Why don’t you try taking some of this water internally.
Betty: You. . .Victor Comstock and I once took a walk down to where the Monongahela and the Allegheny rivers meet. It was a clear night; it seemed as if the entire universe was reflected in the water. The Milky Way was a plume of white smoke on a black velvet river filed with shining sapphires. We. . .Victor and I looked out into the water, and you. . .he said something to me that I will never forget. Can you tell me what you said?
Victor: I think I said something to the effect that the confluence of the rivers was in fact a misnomer since in actuality the Monongahela circumvents the Allegheny by some 300-odd feet.
Betty: Victor! It is you! Oh my God! Oh, oh wait till I tell the others; they’re not going to believe this!
Victor: No no no no! You can’t tell the others; you can’t tell anyone. Betty, I may be alive, but right now I am closer to death than I was in London with a German bomb heading straight for me.
Betty: Victor, I don’t understand. . .anything.
Victor: I know, Betty. There’s so much to tell you. So much. And thank God we’ve got some time alone.
Eugenia: (in hallway, singing) La la la laaa la la laa La la la laaa la la laa
Victor: That sounds like Eugenia.
Betty: It is Eugenia, and she’s right on time.
Victor: On time for what? The station went off the air an hour ago.
Betty: Yes, but we go back on the air in ten minutes with the "Agitato Alert."
Victor: What is the "Agitato Alert"?
Betty: Oh, it’s a show for insomniacs and folks who work the night shift. Eugenia does it all by herself.
Victor: Betty, I realize that the entire world thinks I’m a dead man, but if anyone sees me here, I’m a dead man.
(front hallway: C.J. enters)
Eugenia: C.J., what are you doing here? This is Lester’s shift; you should be home by now.
C.J.: I was having a Welsh rarebit at the Buttery, when the coin phone rings, and, surprise, it’s Lester, who says he’s indisposed due to injuries received while fighting for a lady’s honor. Apparently she wanted to keep it.
Eugenia: Good for her. And for us, too, C.J. We haven’t worked together in months. I really do miss the daytime, you know. Playing for the afternoon dramas and being with the gang. Sometimes I feel like one of those strange creatures who rises at sunset and sleeps at dawn. What do they call them?
C.J.: They call them your listeners.
(greenroom)
Betty: No, Victor, you are not vanishing anywhere until you tell me how you can be alive. How you could let me—all of us believe that you were—
Victor: Betty, I’ve risked life and limb to tell you exactly that, but if anyone spots me here, I mean anyone, my resurrection will be rescinded. I’ll go from being un-dead to un-un-dead.
Betty: That’s a double negative.
Victor: You’re telling me. Betty, I promise to tell you everything, but right now I have to hide.
Eugenia: (outside) Hello? Is somebody here?
Victor: Where the heck am I gonna hide?
Betty: You’re six foot five. That’s going to be a tall order.
Eugenia: (outside) Mr. Eldridge? Are you still here? (enters greenroom) Betty! Gee, this is turning out to be a regular open house! I thought I heard a man talking.
Betty: No! No, I was just, uh, adapting "Julius Caesar" for the radio, and I was trying out some of the lines. Come here, come here and listen. Mark Antony is coming; where do I hide?
Eugenia: But the voice said "Betty." I don’t remember anyone in "Julius Caesar" named Betty.
(front hallway: enter Mr. Medwick and Cutter Dunlap)
Dunlap: I wouldn’t have thought there’d be anyone up this late.
Medwick: Well, I’ve got them burning the midnight oil to keep our beverages boiling.
Dunlap: Truth is, Medwick, for the last two years as I was drinking salted tea with yak butter, alone on the frozen steps of northern Tibet, I sure didn’t picture spending my first night back in the States here at WENN. I’m disappointing several ladies and a dozen bartenders even as we speak.
Medwick: Cutter, your deal with Pittsburgh Pantry calls for an exclusive radio report on your adventures immediately upon your return. We’ve been waiting two long years for this. I want you on the air for "Agitato" before the newspapers can over-exploit your exploits.
Dunlap: Funny, the last time I saw Victor Comstock, he was trying to get me on a radio station in New York, doing an audio travelogue of my journeys. Sounds dangerous, huh? But then he quit, or got fired for having too much talent. What an innovative man; a true visionary, eh Medwick?
Medwick: Oh, yes.
Dunlap: Shame he’s not here.
Medwick: We like to think he’s always here.
Dunlap: Really, you, uh, you think about him a lot, do you?
Medwick: Oh, I do, Cutter, I do. In my life there will always be only one Victor Comstock.
Eugenia: (entering with Betty) If "Julius Caesar" needs Roman music—
Medwick: Miss Bremer!
Eugenia: Mr. Medwick! What a wonderful surprise. Isn’t this a nice surprise Betty?
Betty: Uh, I’m trying to quit.
Medwick: Miss Bremer, Miss Roberts, I bring with me a very special guest for tonight’s "Agitato" broadcast, the world renowned author and explorer, Cutter Dunlap.
Dunlap: Ladies.
Eugenia: Oh, I’ve read all your books! Do you have a favorite?
Dunlap: Well, of course "Lost on the Congo Line" was my first.
Eugenia: But what about "The Sand and I" or "A Nomad in Nairobi." Not to mention "Cutter of Calcutta."
Dunlap: Well, each volume is like my very own child, you see, and I don’t think it’s possible to—
Eugenia: Gosh, we really ought to save all this fabulous chitchat for when we’re on the airwaves, which is where I have to be right now. Excuse me.
Dunlap: Folks, I’ve been on one flying boxcar after another since I left Canton, and I could sure use a cup of coffee. Or maybe just a tad something stronger?
Medwick: Ah. There’s a bottle of uh, tad, down in Scott Sherwood’s office. Miss Roberts?
Betty: (tries to open the office door, which keeps closing) Uh, no, you can’t go in there.
Medwick: Why not?
Betty: Um, because right now I have to tell you about this new innovative idea—
Medwick: Oh, no no no, leave me out of your innovations.
Dunlap: Why don’t we just push on into Mr. Sherwood’s office.
Betty: No, no because it’s closed off.
Medwick: By whom?
Betty: By the police. Because of what happened here earlier this evening. The authorities made a very big arrest; didn’t you hear about it?
Medwick: No, I’ve been at Pan-American Airlines trying to pick up Mr. Dunlap.
Dunlap: And why were the police here?
Betty: Because of what we were broadcasting.
Medwick: Which was. . .
Betty: Um, code messages to Nazi saboteurs.
Medwick: That’s pushing the boundaries of entertainment even for you folks, isn’t it?
Dunlap: And who did the police arrest?
Betty: Oh, well, they arrested. . .
Medwick: Yes?
Betty: . . .um, the sponsor.
Medwick: Why am I not surprised?
Dunlap: I’m sure it’s not really as bad as it sounds.
Betty: No, and neither is the "Agitato" coffee program. This way, gentlemen. (Betty pushes them into the control booth) Victor. (she knocks three times, and Victor does the same) Victor, unlock the door, it’s me, Betty. Quickly.
Scott: (entering) Man oh man, what a holy rigmarole I just came from with the police. They turned up the heat to the third degree and grilled us like we were the criminals. Mr. Foley was confessing to everything from Jack the Ripper on. You were smart to stay here, Betty. Come on, I have half the makings of a bourbon and water in my desk.
Betty: Oh, you can’t go in there.
Scott: It’s my office, Betty. I tend to go in there every now and then.
Betty: Well, that was then, and this is now. Now you can’t.
Scott: Why not?
Betty: Because you have the hottest story in Pittsburgh, Scott. You broke the code; you caught the head saboteur.
Scott: Hey, you know that’s true. I mean, forget about my part in this, this is big big news, isn’t it. And at the moment it’s a WENN exclusive. Knock on wood. (he knocks three times, and Victor does the same)
Betty: And I will second that knock again. (she knocks three times) But now you really have to get into the studio.
Scott: Can I just get into my office for a second?
Betty: Please. . .uh, police. The police said that, uh, no one must open that door until the investigation is complete. Now you go on in there and give those sleepy listeners of ours the inside scoop that’ll really open their eyes.
Scott: It’s got to be the biggest news story that’s ever happened right inside this station, huh?
Betty: Oh, you’d be surprised. (Scott exits to Studio A) Victor you can open the door. Quickly. It’s Betty.
Medwick: Miss Roberts, Cutter Dunlap is in the control room cooling his heels while your Scott Sherwood has jumped the line and gone on the air with his story.
Betty: I am so glad that you’re standing right here next to me, Mr. Medwick, so that I can tell you that Scott’s story is only going to attract more listeners. People are waking up their friends, telling them to tune in, which sets up Cutter Dunlap’s exploits for an even wider audience.
Medwick: Even more listeners?
Betty: Oh, sure. I mean, hardly anyone listens to the radio after midnight on a Sunday.
Medwick: Really.
Betty: Oh, sure.
Medwick: Then why am I sponsoring this show? (exits)
Betty: Victor, the coast is clear now. It’s me, Betty, and hurry!
Victor: Don’t tease me, Betty.
Betty: Hurry! (enters office)
(Studio A)
Scott: Well, Eugenia, I suspect that even though this nation isn’t at war, we’re already part of a war of nerves. With Herr Hitler trying to raise our fears and lower our resolve. And radio will be a big part of that battle. That’s why the Nazis are using Americans like, say, Jonathan Arnold to broadcast defeat and despair to his own people.
Eugenia: Jonathan "Benedict" Arnold is what I call him.
(Scott’s (formerly Victor’s) office)
Victor: I don’t remember the explosion. I came to at the edge of the debris, and there was smoke everywhere and people were screaming. All I knew to do was to get up and keep moving, walking. Apparently I boarded a double-decker bus on Regent Street and told the conductor I was going to Madison and Fifty-second. And then I collapsed. They took me to Charing Cross Hospital, and--it was the strangest thing, Betty—ten days later, when I came to, I was visited more by the military than by medics.
Betty: Why? You were a civilian, a broadcaster.
Victor: The perfect civilian broadcaster, as far as the military was concerned: presumed dead, no family, no attachments. . .well, none to speak of.
Betty: What did they want from you?
Victor: Oh, they asked me to be the worst American since Benedict Arnold.
(front hallway: Hilary and Jeff enter)
Hilary: Well, at this point I don’t see any point in going home.
Jeff: We wait an hour while the police type up our official statement and you have to go and sign it "best wishes, to one of my greatest fans."
Hilary: Pure reflex. I didn’t know it was their only copy. And would you believe that photo session.
Jeff: All they wanted was a head and profile mug shot, Hilary, and you kept saying, "No, no, that’s my bad side."
Scott: (entering) Hey, what took you guys so long?
Jeff: Oh, well, it took us awhile to convince the police that we weren’t suspects.
Hilary: They wanted to frisk both of us; we had to wait until they could find a policewoman.
Scott: Oh, well, that’s understandable.
Hilary: It was Jeff who requested it.
(Scott/Victor’s office)
Betty: You’re Jonathan Arnold? You’re the American in Germany saying terrible things about the English and the French and. . .us?
Victor: Yup, that’s me. (he starts searching the desk) Speaking from the heart of Berlin where I have access to files our War Department could only dream of.
Betty: What are you looking for?
Victor: There’s a small strongbox built into the bottom door of this desk, and I thought I left a key to it. Nope.
Betty: But why are you Jonathan Arnold?
Victor: Betty, I’m supposed to be an embittered American correspondent who’s let his sympathies be known to the right officials in Berlin. A man without friends or family whose own lives could be endangered by the Nazis. This way my professional reputation and my real name would remain untarnished, if I live to reclaim either one of them.
Betty: But how much longer do they expect you to keep this up?
Victor: Until the war in Europe ends. If the Allies win, Jonathan Arnold will simply cease to be. If, on the other hand, Hitler wins, I suppose I’ll be very nicely positioned to help in rule the world.
Betty: That’s not funny. The British are bombing Germany. You could be—
Victor: Blown up twice in the same war? In both London and Berlin?
Betty: Victor, you can’t go on pretending to be a traitor.
Victor: Oh but I am a traitor, Betty.
Betty: What do you mean?
Victor: Military intelligence brought me back to the states for my final briefing. Of course, the Nazis think I’m here to wrap up my personal affairs. Well, maybe I am. But Betty, just by coming here tonight and sharing with you this highly confidential top-secret information is an act of high treason. It’s a capital crime, which is why being found here would be the very worst thing that could happen to me.
(Cutter Dunlap enters)
Dunlap: Victor. Victor Comstock. Well, I sure didn’t expect to find you in here.
Victor: Well, I don’t think many people would at this point, Cutter.
Dunlap: I heard I could find some, uh, spirits in this room.
Victor: Uh. . .
Betty: He means whiskey.
Dunlap: I just have a touch of radio fright. Well, Victor, you look very fit considering what you’ve been through.
Victor: Especially considering.
Dunlap: I knew they couldn’t keep you buried away. I told them back in New York, don’t write any epitaphs for Victor Comstock; he’ll spring up from the ground and kick off the dust. They all said you were finished, but I knew you’d rise again, like a. . .
Betty: Like a phoenix?
Dunlap: Oh, you’ve been in Arizona as well. Boy, you really did resurrect your career.
Victor: Uh, Cutter, you’re either a philosopher of truly cosmic dimensions, or have you by any chance been out of touch with the news for the last year?
Dunlap: Two years, actually. I’ve been researching another book. Living the life of a nomad in the Himalayas. No contact with western civilization. Just got back this evening and learned they made "The Wizard of Oz" without Shirley Temple. Big shock there.
Betty: Well, there’s a lot more on the way. Um, meaning that there have been so many inventions and innovations. Like, uh, like these silk stockings. These are actually a new man-made fiber called ny-lon.
Dunlap: Well, if they’re man-made, I can see why the man was inspired.
Victor: I wear nylon stockings, too.
Dunlap: You do?
Betty: You do? Oh, uh, yes, of course.
Victor: All men wear nylons now. For insulation purposes; they’re warmer than long johns and, um, it’s a lot less expensive.
Dunlap: They are?
Victor: Cutter, would you like us to bring you up to date on a few other things?
Dunlap: Yes, yes, this is fascinating.
Victor: Betty.
(Studio A: Scott and Jeff are playing cards)
Hilary: And as I stood there, this gun pointed at my heart, my entire life passed before me—and oh what a wonderful story it made. Beginning with my birth at Crockett’s Corner, Maine, on the same day as the big crash--
Scott: That would make you. . .twelve?
Hilary: I meant, of course, the big crash of the Titanic.
Jeff: That would make you. . .twenty-nine.
Hilary: Oh, Jeffrey, you mustn’t give away these things on the radio!
(office exterior/hallway: Dunlap enters laughing)
Dunlap: Well, I’ll see you for breakfast, Victor. Well, that was very informative to say the least, Miss Roberts. I’m very much in your debt.
Betty: Oh, well, in that case, Mr. Dunlap, may I be bold with you?
Dunlap: I could take to that.
Betty: Um, did you ever meet someone and know in an instant that this was the one?
Dunlap: The one?
Betty: The one person that you’ve been waiting for all of your life, Mr. Dunlap. Cutter, I want to follow you wherever the tradewinds take you, to be with you on the empty sand and the lonely peaks—
Medwick: (entering) Come on, Cutter, it’s Agitato time.
Dunlap: Yes, yes, we should definitely pursue this line of conversation later, Miss Roberts.
(they exit to Studio A and Betty rushes back to the office)
(Studio A: Scott and Jeff are now playing chess)
Hilary: And so, Miss Bremer, as my life imitates my art I find it infuses my roles with a kind of verity, which is, as Hamlet says, the purpose of playing, meaning acting, whose end, both at first and now was and is (Hilary is dragged away from the mic) to hold, as it were, the mirror of . . .
Eugenia: Thank you so much, Miss Booth. And now, here’s another big treat for all our Agitato listeners: world renowned explorer and author, Mr. Cutter Dunlap, just returned only hours ago after two years alone in Tibet, where he lived the life of a nomadic monk. Mr. Dunlap, it must be very strange to suddenly be back amongst people after such a long period of isolation.
Dunlap: Well, I catch up pretty quickly, Miss Bremer. Adaptability is the key word for any explorer, and of course it helps that many of the faces I’m seeing are familiar. Your sponsor himself greeted me at the airport, and I’ve just had a wonderful chat with an old friend, Victor Comstock.
Eugenia: Uh, who. . .whom did you say you were chatting with?
Dunlap: Victor Comstock. Well, don’t tell me you don’t remember the man who—
Eugenia: No! We--we all remember him! Uh, so you say you were thinking about him.
Dunlap: No, Victor and I were talking. . .in his office just now. Maybe it was someone who looked like Victor.
Dunlap: No, no, my eyes are trained for recognition. Although I did doubt it was him for a second when he told me he was wearing nylon stockings.
Eugenia: Beg your pardon?
Dunlap: Men in stockings! The very idea makes me want to drop in on President Pershing and say, "Look, just because we discovered insect life on the dark side of the moon doesn’t mean we all have to start acting like lunar ticks." Of course, with the White House being relocated to Kansas for defense purposes, I’m not likely to drive out to see the President, or even Vice President Garbo, even if they make Studebakers that run on tap water now.
Eugenia: Um, C.J., I’m all alone in here with Mr. Dunlap.
Dunlap: Staying in Tibet all alone all those months, I never imagined there’d be so many strange things going on. I mean Canada joining with Mexico to form the Divided States of North America? The prohibition of Jazz, except in Vermont of all places. Edible eating utensils? And then to learn that the Andrews sisters and the Marx brothers were the same people?
(control room)
C.J.: Betty, do you think you should go in there and do something?
Betty: Oh, I think Mr. Dunlap’s doing just fine, C.J. Just fine.
(Studio A)
Dunlap: I mean, things are going crazy.
Eugenia: And Victor Comstock told you all this in Tibet? Like a little voice inside your head?
Dunlap: No, no, he was in the next room just a few minutes ago, and I’m a changed man already. Look. Your Miss Roberts loaned me her stockings. Oh, I can’t say that they feel any warmer, but you know, when in Rome. . . Why are you looking at me that way? (Scott and Jeff drag him away) He can’t be dead. I tell you, I talked with Victor Comstock. I spoke with him in there. (he tugs on the office door)
Scott: This room has been sealed by the police, Cutter.
Jeff: Let’s go into the greenroom, so you can lie down for awhile.
Dunlap: Stop acting like I’m crazy.
(they drag him into the greenroom)
Jeff: Here we go.
Dunlap: Miss Roberts, Miss Roberts, tell them. Weren’t you and I and Victor Comstock talking just a few minutes ago.
Betty: That’s not funny, Mr. Dunlap. Victor Comstock is dead.
Dunlap: You were there. Victor was talking about how he wears nylons and about the bugs they found on the dark side of the moon.
Betty: Oh, oh yes, oh yes yes, oh you mean Victor.
Scott: Oh, that Victor. Ah.
Betty: Oh yes, Victor is waiting for you back at your hotel. And after you see him maybe you can have a rest after your long ordeal in Tibet. Right Jeff, Scott?
Scott: Yeah, of course. Come on, Cutter, let’s get you back to the hotel.
Dunlap: ‘Cause if I thought I had imagined that, I’d doubt all that stuff you said to me Betty—
Betty: About what?
Dunlap: About. . .that I’m the one for you, and how you want to follow me to the ends of the earth—
Scott: Hey, hey, hey, let’s get you back to the hotel.
Jeff: Yeah, Victor’s there. . .with President Grant.
Dunlap: That’s Pershing.
Scott: We mustn’t keep Victor waiting.
(they exit)
Betty: No. . .we mustn’t keep Victor waiting.
(writer's room)
Victor: You have the only key to this room.
Betty: No one else can get in, but how are you getting out of here?
Victor: The same way I came in, through the air ducts above the storage room. How are we going to square things with Cutter?
Betty: Offer him his own travel series?
Victor: Now that’s a start.
Betty: I’ll make up some story about your crazy cousin Hector who pretends to be you.
Victor: It’s so good it’s scary. Now what are we going to do about ruining Cutter’s reputation on the air?
Betty: Oh, I killed the relays to the transmitter before he went on. His reputation is as spotless as. . .Victor Comstock’s.
Victor: Is this the same impeccably principled, high-minded Betty Roberts from Moosehead?
Betty: Elkhart.
Victor: What have I done to you?
Eugenia: (on radio) And with this brand-new recording called "Revel*," WENN begins another broadcasting day.
Victor: I have to get out of here.
(Gertie’s desk)
Medwick: I just can’t believe it. You mean there hasn’t been a single phone call about us being off the air?
Gertie: None so far this morning, Mr. Medwick.
Medwick: But C.J. says that we were off the air for fifteen minutes! Do you realize what that means?
Maple: I guess it means nobody’s listening. Ooops.
Medwick: Ooops? My words exactly. I’m taking the Agitato program off the air for good. There’s no point doing—
(Mr. Foley enters, followed by Mr. Eldridge and Mackie)
Gertie: Hi Mr. Foley! How’d it go with the police?
Mr. Eldridge: He says he doesn’t want to talk about it.
Mackie: Now he doesn’t want to talk about it. Oh yes, sure, now! You try spending the night cooped up with Mr. Foley as a cellmate. Yakkada, yakkada, yakkada. I’m telling you, if he doesn’t talk to me for the next fifty years it’ll be too soon.
Eugenia: Well, have a nice day everybody.
Medwick: Miss Bremer, your nights are your own from here on in. (exits)
Eugenia: Beg your pardon?
Maple: He means you can go back to your daily programs, Eugenia. You are the organ bench warmer once again.
Eugenia: Oh, that’s wonderful! But what about you, Maple?
Maple: Oh, well, lately I’ve been doing more acting than playing on the air. It’s kinda fun to work standing up for a change. I mean--
Hilary: (entering) We know exactly what you mean, Mable. Jeff is at the hotel with Cutter Dunlap, so you’ll have to be the new. . .maid on "Bedside Manor."
Maple: Better than being the old maid.
Hilary: What’s that?
Maple: Nothing. Come on, Eugenia. Your Wurlitzer awaits.
Eugenia: It’s the good old days all over again, isn’t it.
(hallway: Betty and Victor head towards the storeroom)
Victor: I have to meet my contact in eight minutes. Betty, what I didn’t tell you in all the time that we were working together—
Betty: Could fill volumes. Victor, risking your life to let me know you’re alive. . .I don’t know what more you could say.
Victor: This is the key to the strongbox in my desk. In it is the codename and the phone number of the one man who knows everything about Jonathan Arnold. Keep it, in case I—well, just in case.
Betty: Victor, what about the others? What about Gertie, or Mr. Eldridge. . .
Victor: No no no no no. You can’t tell them anything. And I had no right to tell you. As far as the world is concerned, I am the late Victor Comstock.
Betty: What about Scott Sherwood. He’s taken your death so hard.
Victor: Who. . .is Scott Sherwood?
Betty: Scott Sherwood, the man you sent here to replace you.
Victor: I’ve never heard of Scott Sherwood.
Scott: (down hallway) Betty? Bettybettybettybettybetty
Victor: Betty. (he kisses her and leaves)
Scott: Betty! (she turns, startled) You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Come into my office. I’ve got a great new concept that’ll completely change the way you look at everything.
* I couldn’t understand Eugenia’s line clearly—it’s just a guess
transcribed by Janene Casella
the collected works of Betty Roberts