Incomparable Fanny Barnwarmer 10

by Jay Squires

Bird’s-Eye View of the Previous Scene: The prosecuting attorney has his witness, Mr. Barnwarmer, point to each of the defendants as members of the Army.
M. Barnwarmer's testimony explains how his motive for luring Mr. Albright to the door, and the latter's ultimate death, was his fear of the Army’s reprisal against his family.

Act III
Scene 2 (Post-intermission Continued)

CHARACTERS:
Fanny Barnwarmer: Eighty-five-year-old woman with plenty of spark and sizzle still in her. Has been performing at the Tavern for forty-four years.
Reporter: Mid-thirties. Works for the New York Times, on assignment in Brady, Texas to write a human-interest story on the famous Fanny Barnwarmer.

SETTING: Front porch of Fanny Barnwarmer’s home. Rocking chair, DOWNSTAGE RIGHT, facing kitchen chair, CENTER, and front steps behind, which descend to street level with a flowerbed to the side. OFFSTAGE LEFT are street sounds of traffic: of vintage 1928 cars, some horse whinnying, etc., that continue as a kind stew of white-noise background throughout the scene.

PLACE/TIME: Brady Texas, Noon, Sunday, August 11, 1929

AT RISE: FANNY’S pre-intermission question about whether the REPORTER was married and had children, and his answer, left the two in the silence they are in now. The REPORTER breaks it.

REPORTER:
Your father's motives couldn't be more understandable, Miss Fanny. His testimony should have been enough to convict Thurston Flourney and his mob. I can't imagine what their defense attorney could have done in way of cross-examination.

FANNY:
Din’t have t’ do nothin’. Din’t have t’ say nothin’. Fact is, theys ’torney gives a smirkin’ look t’ th’ jedge, like it be a signal ... an’ th’ jedge, lookin' as like he jes catched thet signal, asts t’ see both ’torneys in his chamber—what be a back room. When they come out, ’Lizabeth’s ’torney be pasty white, like he be sick. Then—then th’ jedge
(her movements describe him in dramatic pantomime)
he sits up tall, all dramatic and important-like in his shiny blue robe. An’ he ’nounces to th’ jury, lookin’ straight at ’em, lik'n he's Moses or ... or Solomon ... thet none o’ Daddy’s testimony be allowed ... an’ th' jedge, he tells th’ court scribe ta take out ever'thin' 'bout it from th’ court records—

REPORTER:
What?!

FANNY:
Yep, the jury’s 'structed to disagard everthin’ thet Daddy say.

REPORTER:
I know that, but why?

FANNY:
He says thet Daddy don’t be no witness at all. Thet theys no one witnessin’ Flourney an’ his mob near killin’ Daddy th’ first time. Thet no one, ’ceptin’ Daddy hissef, heared ’bout—an’ here thet jedge gets all flowery an’ sissy-like with th’ movement of his hands outen his blue robe, an’ rollin’ of his eyes when he says it— “heared ’bout the ’ledged inter-duc-shun. An’ he be no more credib’l witness to th’ akshull lynchin’ then ’Lizbeth Albright be … on account o’ both bein’ unconscious o’ th’ act itsef.” Th’ jedge he points to little Juni an’ he says, “An’ th’ onliest one who could be a cred-i-bul witness be this beautiful little girl, playin’ so unconcerned with her doll.”

REPORTER:
Jesus!
(Looking away from Fanny)
And, yet …

FANNY:
An’ yet what?

REPORTER:
Nothing …. Still … all that should have come out in the cross-examination. It’s the defense attorney’s job to object to the, um, validity of the testimony. Not the judge’s.

FANNY:
’Peers y’alls sniffer be workin’ ’bout like t’other reporters’ what was there. I heared theys feet scratchin’ ’round on th’ floor an’ turns clean ’round in my seat and I sees—theys four of ’em now—an’ I sees theys throwin’ theys hands up and theys eyes is wide open an’ they’s whisprin’ so loud as th’ jedge—he tells ’em ta simmer down or they be removed.
(Beat)
Then seein’ as them reporter’s heads be turned down to theys own tablets an’ theys pencils be skittrin’ ’crost the page, thet jedge, he turns to ’Lizabeth’s ’torney an’ ast him if’n he had any other cred-uh-bul witnesses, an’ th’ ’torney’s voice be shakin’ a mite, an’ he say, “I respeck’fly object yer honor thet t’court not be ’ceptin’ th’ testimony of Mister Barnwarmer.”

REPORTER:
Good for him!

FANNY:
But the jedge, he jes say—callin’ him coun-sul—an’ like he be talkin’ to a chil’— “Does th’ coun-sul have … any other … cred-uh-bul witnesses?” Well, ’Lizabeth’s ’torney’s shoulders, they jes dropped. He looks at ’Lizabeth, where she be sittin’ an’ shakes his head. Then he says, so quiet as almost not t’ be heered, “No, yer honor.” The jedge, he say to repeat it so’s th’ court c’n hear, an’ the ’torney, he say real loud, “No, Jedge … Jonathan … Weitherton …”—leavin’ out d’honer-uh-bul afore Jedge— “I’ve no more witnesses.”

REPORTER:
Oh, Miss Fanny—

FANNY:
So th’ jedge, he say, “Afore I announce my rulin’ I ask thet th’ defendants approach th’ bench.”

REPORTER:
What?!

FANNY:
Jes like y'all, ol’ Flourney an’ his mob look con-founded, too, but they gets up an’ stan’ afore th’ jedge, who gets all secret-like with ’em so’s no one c’n hear. Flourney did most o’ the talkin’ an’ head-shakin’.

REPORTER:
I can’t believe what I’m hearing! I mean ... I know you’re telling me what you remembered, but … a judge calling the defendants up to his stand … that’s unheard of! The attorneys did accompany the defendants, didn’t they?

FANNY:
No, they be lookin’ confounded as well … An alls the reporters, theys mouths be hangin’ to theys chests, too on accounta what they’s seein’. An’ the whole room be chatterin’. So Jedge Weitherton call for order, an’ he sends th’ defend-ents back to theys chairs.

REPORTER:
Miss Fanny … I’ve dreaded the moment I’d have to say this—

FANNY:
But thet ain't gonna stop ya ....

REPORTER:
Being with you these past few days has been the most memorable of my life. but as lovely as my time with you has been—having talked with you, having seen your act, having been in every way totally charmed by the incomparable Fanny Barnwarmer—

FANNY:
Get on with it.

REPORTER:
This—my story for the Times quickly went from the story of your amazing performing career my editor sent me to Brady to cover ... to a story of you and Miss Juniper—her stalking and murder of Thurston Flourney, and of two momentous trials. And today … Miss Fanny … I find I won’t be able to write this second story at all. No amount of good reporting will get us over this final hurdle. No one—by that, I mean no reader is going to believe, by itself, the memory of a fourteen-year-old girl.

INTERMISSION

Write A Review