PARTISAN REVIEW
221
ABE: You
are
holding up five. (COHN
quickly puts down his hand)
COHN: What's the use!
ABE: Cohn, I'll tell you something - you're rigid. I'm flexible.
COHN: Mindless.
ABE: You only believe in what's in front of your nose. That's not
mindless?
COHN: I don't make things up.
ABE:
(points to curtained doorway)
What's that?
COHN: Don't bother me. (ABE
continues to point)
It's my bedroom!
(goes back to his cooking)
Pest!
ABE: I don't see any bedroom.
COHN: You know it's my bedroom!
ABE: I beg your pardon. All I see
is
a curtain. (COHN
goes and pulls
back the curtain)
Ah
hah! A bedroom! (ABE
rises, crosses to the
doorway and pulls the curtain back into place)
A curtain.
(pulls
the curtain back and forth)
A bedroom. A curtain. A bedroom. A
curtain. A bedroom. Is it still a bedroom when you don't see it?
COHN: It's always a bedroom!
ABE: So for you it's always a bedroom and for me it's always five
fingers. (COHN
slams the plate down on the table, pours stew into
it and begins to eat.
ABE
joins him at the table, studies the blank
sheet in his typewriter, punches one key and nods seriously at the
results.)
I'm right so I don't get any stew?
COHN: You want stew? Here!
(hands him pot)
ABE:
(looks into pot)
It's empty.
COHN:
(points to empty pot)
What's that?
ABE: A pot.
COHN: You saw me cook stew in it? (ABE
nods)
You saw me pour
stew out of it? (ABE
nods)
So eat your stew. (ABE,
unhappily,
watches
COHN
eat.
COHN
wipes his mouth and points to the empty
space in front of
ABE.) Eat! That's steak. That's potatoes. That's
salad. That's beer. Hearty appetite!
ABE: That's vicious.
COHN:
(smiles, self-satisfied)
Abe, you can pull the wool over your
eyes but you can't pull it over mine. I know you every step of the
way. I know you inside and out.
ABE: I'm hungry.
COHN: So make something.
