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The Day Tennessee Williams Died

"You insisted on translating my poem into Italian," the medical student in the long coat laughed.

"You remind me of that other playwright, minus the moustache."

I put the Southern Comfort away for the occasion. I knew what this was leading up to. "You want to know my impression just because you treated him."

"He treated me right."

"I'm sure he did, Carlo."

His handsome profile in the sunny portico made me realize I had to tell my story.

"It was when I was sixteen, when I read in the Boston Globe that Tennessee Williams was starring in his own production of "Small Craft Warnings" on Broadway. I took my meager savings from the bank, hitched a ride -- but that's another story. Made my way to midtown Manhattan, was put up by an oil, or was it a gas man, and went up to the counter to purchase a ticket.

'We're sold out, sonny.'

'But I came all this way to see "Warnings."'

'Perhaps you can come back in a week.'

'I have nowhere to stay.'

'Well, cutie, how about at my place?'

'No, I have the money.'

'I'd recommend the Chelsea for you. You can always make a few bucks for a few...'

'I just want to see the show.'

'You must really have your reason, Sonny.'

'Yes, it's personal.'

'Everything is personal, kid, when you are young; but it's political when you become my age.'

The phone rings.

'A cancellation... Aren't you just the lucky boy.'

I took my money carefully from my wallet.

'Where did you get all of that? No, on the other hand, I don't want to know. Just don't tell me it's from your paper route.'

'A man...'

'Picked you up and discovered you and told you what it was all about. I think he had a nerve.'

'Thanks.'

'You think I'm a character actor, don't you? I can tell you're a budding playwright. It's in the eyes. Well, maybe I can give you my Actor's Studio card. I study with Shelly Winters myself.'

I wander off with the oil exec, spending the day in Central Park.

I keep looking at my new watch.

'Kid, calm down...'

'You were real nice to me.'

'Nicer than I was gonna be. But you've got something there.' He looks me over. I was afraid to look where he meant, but it was at my head.

'Brains -- you got 'em. They're not scrambled like mine.'

'Well, Mr., if you weren't drinking all the time...'

'I was raised Baptist. Hardshell Baptist...'

'Are they the ones who send us all to hell?'

'No, only the good Lord does. Now all I drink is hard liquor.'

'I never liked Sunday School, except for the wafer.'

'But you look like the boy next door.'

Reggie picks me up and gives me a piggyback ride. I feel bad for him, always drinking and driving.

'I had a couple of wives, but they couldn't give me sons. I divorced them.'

'You could be my godfather, if you'd like. I never had one.'

'You don't think I'm kind of strange? Back home in Beaumont they think I am. Once I went to a head shrink. He told me I was arrested at your age.'

'Were you bad, Reggie?'

'Here's my coat. It's getting cold. I was always stealing or getting into trouble. But I always knew how to make money. It was my gift. When I saw you on the highway, you reminded me of me. I couldn't help myself picking you up.'

'You didn't hurt me.'

'You could have been me. Now let's take a cab for your play. I'll pick you up after, and will give you the money to send you back home to mother. Maybe it's best if I give it to you now.'

Reggie seemed kind of sad. He reached into his pocket and gave me two hundred dollars. This tall Texan wanted me to ask him to do me favors. He bought me a Yankee uniform, a wallet, a new suit and tie, some shaving cream and lotion for the future, and underwear.

My own father will be very angry when he reads my note. Maybe he'll even call the cops on me, or the FBI up here.

It was exciting seeing all the people in their gowns and tuxedos. The play was special."

I now had all my Italian friend's attention. He could hardly contain his emotions but I knew he wanted me to continue uninterrupted.

"I walked in the smoke-filled corridors during intermission and knew after "Warnings" I would go to see Tennessee Williams.

After drinking three milk shakes I decided to sneak my way into the dressing room. This was my night on the town too. I opened the door. Tennessee was alone. His speech was slurred, but he was otherwise composed.

'Are you here to seduce me?' I was another star in his orbit.

'No, I can see you didn't bring me flowers.'

'Oh, I'm sorry; it wasn't easy for me to be here.'

He went on: 'It was not easy for me to be an actor, even in a cameo part. Every play I directed myself flopped. Don't direct.'

'I want to write.'

'I can tell by your eyes.'

'You're the second person today who told me that.'

'Your eyes are soulful. I can tell. I've been around. Did you like my appearance?'

'Yes.'

'I like yours.

I'm glad you didn't want my autograph. It shows you will write your own someday. Just don't direct. You like my "Warnings?"'

Tennessee's tongue looked like it was continually moving. I hoped Tennessee wasn't an epileptic. Later I learned he had hyperkinesthesia.

'Then, believe me, never direct, write, until your soul is on fire. And you'll make it.'

I shook his hand, Carlo, and walked away. You only knew him, Carlo, when he was writing his memoirs."

"He was a sick man. Drugs, alcohol and genius."

"Did he talk to you?"

"He grumbled all the time. I was an intern then, and I had read his plays. He wanted me to tuck him in all the time."

"So did you?"

"When he wasn't watching."

"Do you think he's watching us now?"

Carlo takes out a photograph from his wallet.

"No, we're his voyeurs."

He had a picture of Tennessee holding him.

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