Free Angels in America: A Gay Fantasia on National Themes: Revised and Complete Edition by Tony Kushner

anything to, justice, or love, had really gone away. Free.
          It would be . . . heartless terror. Yes. Terrible, and . . .
          Very great. To shed your skin, every old skin, one by one and then walk away, unencumbered, into the morning.
          (Pause. He looks at the building, then down)
          I can’t go in there today.
    LOUIS : Then don’t.
    JOE : I can’t go in, I need . . .
          (He looks for what he needs. He takes a swig of Pepto-Bismol)
          I can’t be this anymore. I need . . . a change, I should just . . .
    LOUIS : Want some company? For whatever?
    (A possibility of sex still hangs in the air.)
    LOUIS : Sometimes, even if it scares you to death, you have to be willing to break the law. Know what I mean?
    (Little pause.)
    JOE : Yes.
    LOUIS (A beat, then) : I moved out. I moved out on my . . .
    (Little pause; Louis looks down. The sexual possibility disappears.)
    LOUIS : I haven’t been sleeping well.
    JOE : Me neither.
    (Louis licks his napkin and goes up to Joe. He dabs at Joe’s upper lip.)
    LOUIS : Antacid moustache.
    (Louis starts to walk away, then stops and stares at the courthouse. Not looking at Joe:)
    LOUIS : Maybe the court won’t convene. Ever again. Maybe we are free. To do whatever.
          Children of the new morning, criminal minds. Selfish and greedy and loveless and blind. Reagan’s children.
          (Looking at Joe) You’re scared. So am I. Everybody is in the land of the free.
    (Louis turns and leaves. As he’s exiting:)
    LOUIS : God help us all.
    Scene 8
    Late that night. Joe at a payphone calling Hannah at home in Salt Lake City. Joe’s a little drunk .
    JOE : Mom?
    HANNAH : Joe?
    JOE : Hi.
    HANNAH : You’re calling from the street. It’s . . . it must be four in the morning. What’s happened?
    JOE : Nothing, nothing, I—
    HANNAH : It’s Harper. Is Harper—
          Joe?
          Joe?
    JOE : Yeah, hi. No, Harper’s fine. Well, no, she’s . . . (He finds this slightly funny) not fine.
          (With a grin) How are you, Mom?
    HANNAH : What’s happened?
    JOE : I just wanted to talk to you. I, uh, wanted to try something out on you.
    HANNAH : Joe, you haven’t— Have you been drinking, Joe?
    JOE (A bigger grin) : Yes, ma’am. I’m drunk.
    HANNAH : That isn’t like you.
    JOE : No. I mean— (Again, finding this a little funny) Who’s to say?
    HANNAH : Why are you out on the street at four A.M. ? In that crazy city. It’s dangerous.
    JOE : Actually, Mom, I’m not on the street. I’m near the boathouse in the park.
    HANNAH : What park?
    JOE : Central Park.
    HANNAH : CENTRAL PARK! Oh my Lord. What on earth are you doing in Central Park at this time of night? Are you—
          (Very stern) Joe, I think you ought to go home right now. Call me from home.
    (Little pause.)
    HANNAH : Joe?
    JOE : I come here to watch, Mom. Sometimes. Just to watch.
    HANNAH : Watch what? What’s there to watch at four in the—
    JOE : Mom, did Dad love me?
    HANNAH : What?
    JOE : Did he?
    HANNAH : You ought to go home and call from there.
    JOE : Answer.
    HANNAH : Oh now really. This is maudlin. I don’t like this conversation.
    JOE : Yeah, well, it gets worse from here on.
    (Pause.)
    HANNAH : Joe?
    JOE : Mom. Momma. I’m a homosexual, Momma.
          (He lowers the receiver and laughs quietly to himself)
          Boy, did that come out awkward.
          (He lifts the receiver to his ear)
          Hello? Hello?
          I’m a homosexual.
          (Pause)
          Please, Momma. Say something.
    HANNAH : You’re old enough to understand that your father didn’t love you without being ridiculous about it.
    JOE : What?
    HANNAH : You’re ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous.
    JOE : I’m— What?
    HANNAH : You really ought to go home now to your wife. I need to go to bed. This phone call— We will just forget this phone call.
    JOE : Mom.
    HANNAH : No more talk. Tonight. This . . .
          (Suddenly very angry)