But many another reached the harbor! (_slowly raises her arm, bends it
to make the form of the Cape. Touches the outside of her bent arm_) The
Outside. But an arm that bends to make a harbor--where men are safe.
MRS PATRICK: I'm outside the harbor--on the dunes, land not life.
ALLIE MAYO: Dunes meet woods and woods hold dunes from a town that's
shore to a harbor.
MRS PATRICK: This is the Outside. Sand (_picking some of it up in her
hand and letting it fall on the beach grass_) Sand that _covers_--hills
of sand that move and cover.
ALLIE MAYO: Woods. Woods to hold the moving hills from Provincetown.
Provincetown--where they turn when boats can't live at sea. Did you ever
see the sails come round here when the sky is dark? A line of
them--swift to the harbor--where their children live. Go back!
(_pointing_) Back to your edge of the woods that's the _edge of the
dunes_.
MRS PATRICK: The edge of life. Where life trails off to dwarfed things
not worth a name.
(_Suddenly sits down in the doorway_.)
ALLIE MAYO: Not worth a name. And--meeting the Outside!
(_Big with the sense of the wonder of life_.)
MRS PATRICK: (_lifting sand and letting it drift through her hand_.)
They're what the sand will let them be.
Pages:
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49