The Object of Today's Lesson

THE OBJECT OF TODAY'S LESSON / Joy Williams A couple sit in a living room, drinking. The room is nicelyfurnished. There is art on the walls, books, etc. To the right rear of the stage there are Trench doors leading to a caged swimming pool. Only a small portion ofthe pool is visible. But one can see steps and the glitter ofwater. There is a bar set up in the corner. The woman sits on one end of a long couch, the man sits in a chair. Beneath the couch, on the other end, extending from beneath it and very visible is a dog's tail. It is a large tail and completely motionless. In one corner of the room a small boy stands at an ironing table, ironing. Betty: I never thought it would be this way. Barry: You always wanted a dog. A dog, you'd say, every day for eight years. We need a dog. Our son was not yet a minute old. We didn't even know if all his little parts were functioning yet, and you gasped, 'We've got to get him a dog. Promise we can get a dog.' You grabbed my hand and squeezed it. You practically broke my thumb. (Betty says nothing, sips her drink, looks at the tail.) The doctors stared at us. I remember it vividly, their eyes above the masks, staring. Betty: I think he's sick. He's so listless. Barry: $1,142 in veterinary bills. Not sick, never sick. Fine appetite, bright eye, firm stool, shining coat. Betty: He lacks . . . devotion. Barry: A little short on devotion. To say nothing of ... a certain interest. Betty: I don't understand it. Barry: How you longed for a dog. The times I've heard about those blessed dogs of your sacred childhood, Napoleon and Howdy and Whiskey and Don! My God! Betty: I had a happy childhood. It's in the past. You can't touch it. 242 · The Missouri Review Barry: The past! (He laughs, looking delighted, even friendly) Why the past has brought us here tonight. I don't suppose you ever reflect that this present, this life, if you prefer, is the ongoing conclusion to your precious past. Betty: Life is one thing, Death is another. Boy: Look, Mommy at this shirt. Perfect! Ten minutes. Barry: It never occurred to me! Is that dog alive? He may not be alive. Betty: He just ate. Barry: (Sighing) Many an evening was ruined by talk about getting a dog. You dreamed about dogs. You smiled at dogs. Sitting in the car at a red light, if another car pulled alongside and that car had a dog in it you would smile at that dog. Betty: I was a nice person. (Drinks) Barry: Napoleon and Howdy and Whiskey and Don. It sounds like the Four Gospels. Jesus Christ never had a dog. Tm sure you're aware of that. Betty: Jesus Christ! (Pauses. Drinks.) Tm sure he had' no earthly need of a dog. Barry: I have no need of a dog either. The damn thing is depressing. He doesn't do anything. He doesn't even look at you. He has yet to achieve eye contact with a single member of this family. Betty: Howdy put out a fire once. Barry: So legend has it. What did he do? Step on an ash tray? Betty: Whiskey saved me from drowning. He could also count. Barry: Wasn't he the dog who had the extra-terrestial experience? Didn't he have peculiar white wafer-like marks on his tummy one evening after an episode of funny sounds and bright, moving lights? You were a teensy-tiny child, but you were not afraid because you had brave, good Whiskey in your room. (Betty nods) But . . . (Barry sighs) . . . apparently it was not an extraterrestial experience, it was . . . Joy Williams The Missouri Review · 243 Betty: An alien invasion. Barry: It was cancer. Betty: Yes, cancer. Barry: And your father had to shoot him. Betty: It was love. Barry: It was love because your father didn't want anyone else to shoot him. He took the dog out and into a field...