«» Can you write a little story that includes these Paul Newman titles?
1. Sweet Bird of Youth
2. Rally ‘Round the Flag, Boys!
3. The Outrage
4. Our Town
5. Nobody’s Fool
6. Message in a Bottle
7. The Sting
8. Torn Curtain
9. At This Very Moment
10. Sometimes a Great Notion
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For a rather long time I tried to hold on to my younger years, but like a cloud the memories always faded into obscurity. That sweet bird of youth(1) always seems to spread it wings and fly away even as I try to recollect it.
Now, at this very moment(9), I lie on my death bed. No one is around me, but how can I truly blame them? I was a fool for so long.
Now I have no one. No one except for you, that is. The one person who I met later in my life. The one person who will listen to the words of a dying man. Do you pity him for being so alone? Do you judge me and my life based upon this simple occurance?
That’s enough of my pitiful ramblings. I did not sit here to write down thoughts that no one will in all honestly give a damn about. I am here to tell you the truth of why I alone.
It began many years ago. I was a soldier in a war that many have now forgotten. One particular battle in that war was extremely important in my life story.
The many soldiers screams and cries while being shot at. I can still hear the general, attempting to gather us when even he knew that the fight was unwinnable. “Final stand boys,” “give ‘em hell”, and, in a last ditch effort to save as many as possible, “Rally ‘Round the Flag, boys.(2)”
To give the CO some credit, some did make it to the flag, but many other died in route. It was a sickening sight to see so many good men die around me.
A traumatic experience for any, but it did not truly effect me until i got to go home many months later. I remember see the beautiful face of my wife as she drove the car into our town(4). Home, a place that I had never thought that I would see again. All the dreams and thought that had come to my mind over the past several months were nothing to the real thing. In its glory and beauty, i suddenly felt as if I were finally safe.
The very next day, the trouble began. I was always startled. A loud noise would cause a fit of paranoia so strong that I would tear the curtains from the walls in an attempt to escape captivity. My wife never complained as she repaired the torn curtain (8) the next day, but she did not ask if something was wrong.
Yet again, I can not blame her for this. It was a good thought that she had in attempting to let me get over my problems on my own. Yet, sometimes a great notion (10) can lead to disasterous results.
I became a burden on my wife for the next year, until finally she could not take it anymore. I came home from a day walking in the park to find her packing her meager belongings into a suitcase.
“Where are you going,” I asked, though I admit that I already knew the answer.
“To live with my sister for a few months, Dave,” She told me, her voice weak. She had wanted to be gone before I returned from my walk. It was made even more obvious by the letter on the desk.
I said nothing, but just watched her pack in silence. Her silence hurt more than any words that she could have ever said. I can still feel the sting(7) of those voiceless words today, despite the time that had elapsed since then.
After she left me, I was more miserable than I had been before. Sure, i accepted her leaving when she did, but the outrage(3) came soon afterward. How could she leave me? How could my life have taken such a horrid turn in such a short time?
Due to this and the shakes, which had lessened over the years but had not gone away entirely, i developed a surly attitude to the rest of humanity. They all saw me as a fool and nothing more, but, back then, I consider myself to be nobody’s fool(5).
I have since learned the truth, as I have told you. I was a fool. And now, i have no one left. No one who will miss me when i am gone. That is why i tell you this.
I needed to tell someone and, since I have no one else, you are the only person available. I am like a man dying on a deserted island. Only the water is the people I have secluded myself from and the island is the barrier that keeps them away from me. You? You are a bottle that has floated upon the shores of my little lonely island, doctor. I do not have the time to make you into the companion that I truly need, but I do have the time to use you as a messenger. So I will put my message in a bottle(6) that is you, hoping that someday someone will read it. That someone will care.
Paul Newman as Stage Manager in “Our Town”
