Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays
Chapter 164 : BOLLING. I was seventeen--once. Now Im ninety-two. HAMMER. I am seventy-three. KNUT. L

BOLLING. I was seventeen--once. Now I'm ninety-two.

HAMMER. I am seventy-three.

KNUT. Let's add up the number of years in this room.

HELMS. There's too many. It can't be done.

KNUT [_with a laugh_]. Let's try. [_Rapidly._] Mr. Bolling is 92 and grandfather is 80; that's 172.

HELMS. There's quick counting for you!

KNUT. How old are you, Mr. Buffe?

BUFFE. Seventy-eight.

KNUT. That's 250.

HAMMER [_in wonderment_]. Two hundred and fifty!

KNUT. And you, grandpop?

KRAKAU. Seventy.

KNUT. 320. And you, Mr. Hammer?

HAMMER. Seventy-three.

KNUT. 393.

JOHNSTON. Think of that!

KNUT. And Mr. Hansen?

[_All the old people except Bolling and Hansen, sn.i.g.g.e.r. Hansen turns away, offended._]

KNUT. Don't you know how old you are, sir?

HANSEN. Of course, I know.

HELMS. He's ashamed to tell you. Ha, ha!

BUFFE. He's afraid. Ha, ha!

HANSEN. Who's afraid? [_Reluctantly._] I'm only sixty.

THE OLD PEOPLE. "Only a boy." "Not dry behind the ears." "He'll grow."

"Poor child."

KNUT. That makes 453.

JOHNSTON [_beats his chest_]. I am seventy-five.

KNUT. That gives us 528 altogether.

HAMMER. Five hundred and twenty-eight! What a head the boy has on him.

BUFFE [_to Bolling_]. All together we are 528 years old.

BOLLING. What does it matter?

HELMS. We'd be older still if there weren't a boy among us.

JOHNSTON. Yes, Hansen spoils it by being so young.

KRAKAU. You'll have to hurry, Hansen.

HAMMER. Yes, so you will.

BUFFE. Why don't you take something to make you grow?

HANSEN. Oh, let me alone!

KNUT. Well, I must be going.

THE OLD PEOPLE. "What a pity." "Can't you be late for once?" "The teacher won't mind."

KNUT. I really must. Good-by, grandfather.... Hope you live eighty years more.... Good-by, grandpop.... Good-by, everybody. Good luck! [_He exits._]

HAMMER. You can see him go from here. [_Goes to the window._]

HANSEN. Can you? [_Joins him._]

[_All go to the window except Bolling, who sits stiff and abstracted in his chair._]

HELMS. Open it. [_He helps Johnston do so._]

JOHNSTON. There he goes.

KRAKAU. He is waving to us. [_All wave back._]

BUFFE. What a fine lad!

KRAKAU. Good-by. [_All shout good-by. Bolling does not stir._]

BUFFE [_turning away from the window, with a sigh_]. He's gone.

HANSEN [_low_]. Yes, he's gone.