Sometime Every Summertime
ANNOUNCER. Tonight, Mr. Burgess Meredith stars in "Sometime Every Summertime"
from Studio One at CBS.
MUSIC. Theme.
MEREDITH AS WALDRON. She was one of the most beautiful women I've ever known.
She wasn't a woman, really -- a girl. And I only knew her a little more than
two weeks, but sometime every summer since then I've thought of her.
MUSIC. Theme.
ANNOUNCER. We invite you to Studio One, radio's celebrated playhouse of
dramatic entertainment. For this week only, Studio One will be a half hour
program. The second part of our usual hour being relinquished for a special
broadcast. Tonight, we submit an original radio play by our producer-director,
Fletcher Markle. And now, to introduce tonight's story and star, here is Mr.
Markle.
MUSIC. Out.
MARKLE. "Sometime Every Summertime" is the story of a vacation romance and the
separate ways in which three people remembered it. It's a quiet story, a
summertime memory, and we hope you can relax and enjoy it. Starring tonight as
Clem Waldron in "Sometime Every Summertime" we have with us in Studio One a
most renowned favorite of Hollywood and Broadway, Mr. Burgess Meredith. And
with Mr. Meredith you'll be hearing a young actress whose performances at the
microphone are all too infrequent, but who makes up for this by being one of
radio's busiest and most skillful writers, Miss Patricia Joudry. Miss Joudry
plays Mary tonight, with Robert Dryden as McFedries, who tells the first part
of the story. Please to begin.
MUSIC. [A fanfare, followed by a summer theme: slow, faraway, out at (X).]
McFEDRIES. [Thirty, pleasant, unperceptive.] It was one of those unimportant
affairs that you associate with a certain time of your life, a certain season
and a certain place. Unimportant, but the kind of thing that sticks in your
memory, and whenever something turns up to remind you of that time, and that
season, and that place, you remember it. There were three of us that summer:
Charlie Hayes, myself, and Clem Waldron. It was a warm August before the war,
and all we wanted was two weeks of a good time.
SOUND. [Bow wave in and behind.]
McFEDRIES. Going up to the island on the boat, standing at the rail, Charlie
said: (X)
HAYES. [A little older, cheerful, irrepressible.] I want to die. I want to
sit in the sun, and sweat, and die. For two weeks, brothers, all I want to
do is die.
McFEDRIES. [Laughs.] That'll last about one day -- Hey, look at the sloop.
HAYES. Trim.
McFEDRIES. Very.
WALDRON. [Not yet thirty, quiet, solemn.] Why don't we hurry up and get
there? I hate boats.
McFEDRIES. Not long now, Clem. That's the island over there. The other side
of us. To port.
HAYES. Starboard.
McFEDRIES. All right, starboard -- the bay is just around the corner.
WALDRON. Is it? Good.
HAYES. [Chuckling.] Corner!
McFEDRIES. [Laughs.] All right, all right. [Pause.] In a minute, she'll blow--
SOUND. [Boat whistle. The others laugh.]
McFEDRIES. She did. All right, let's collect our stuff. Your turn to carry the
beer, Waldron.
WALDRON. If we're here, I'll carry anything.
HAYES. [Fading.] In half an hour, I'll be sitting in the sun on the porch
of our little cottage, prepared to die.
SOUND. [Fades out with voice.]
MUSIC. [In and behind. Out at (X).]
McFEDRIES. It was that kind of summer, and we were feeling that kind of crazy.
The island was one of those little islands about two hours run from Vancouver;
a resort, a vacation community, alive less than six months of the year. There
were a lot of ordinary summer houses sloping up from a pocket harbor at the
southern end of the island, and a lot of unbelievably wonderful summer girls
-- wearing very little more than their suntans.
The three of us worked in an advertising agency. We got three weeks vacation
every year -- two in July or August, one at Christmas. Charlie and I had
always gone off someplace for those weeks and pretended we hated the
advertising racket, and acted like the foolish bachelors that we surely were.
That summer was Waldron's first vacation since joining the agency, and we
asked him along because we'd lunched and partied together a few times in town
and he was a nice guy and didn't know many people in Vancouver. After we'd
cleaned out the cottage, and had some supper, we sat on the porch and smoked.
SOUND. [Night crickets in and behind. At intervals, distant boat whistles.]
McFEDRIES. It was about ten o'clock, and fully dark, and Charlie said: (X)
HAYES. I liked the cottage we had last year better.
WALDRON. Why? This place's all right.
HAYES. Last year's had screens on the screen-doors.
McFEDRIES. Oh, we can fix that. One at the back's the only bad one.
WALDRON. Where are we from the place you had last year?
HAYES. Not far. Around the other side of the bluffs. Cottages here are all
the same. Operated by a syndicate. Rent's the same. Dirt's the same...
SOUND. [Women's laughter, off.]
McFEDRIES. Ahhh! Female merriment. That sounds interesting.
HAYES. Next door, is it?
WALDRON. No, it's in the cabin ahead to the left of us on the edge of the
bluffs. There's three of 'em and they're alone.
HAYES. Well, how neat. And when did you get this encyclopaedic information,
Waldron?
WALDRON. Before supper. When I went out for cigarettes.
McFEDRIES. And you didn't think it'd make worthwhile conversation at table?
WALDRON. I forgot about it.
HAYES. Oh. Are they that bad?
WALDRON. [Chuckles.] I've only seen one of 'em. She was hanging out washing.
We talked for a minute.
HAYES. Oh ho, a domestic tableau. What'd she look like?
McFEDRIES. How old was she?
WALDRON. Wolves. She was quite plain, as a matter of fact, not unattractive.
Twenty-five, twenty-six.
HAYES. What'd you talk about?
WALDRON. The island, weather, vacations, neighbors.
HAYES. Ah, that's more like it. How long've they been here?
WALDRON. Came yesterday.
McFEDRIES. Shall we take our chances?
HAYES. We will. Where's the flashlight?
McFEDRIES. On the ledge.
HAYES. I got it.
WALDRON. [Scornful.] Go ahead.
HAYES. Well, what's the matter with you? Sitting there mumping on that pipe.
One of the others might be more attractive--
WALDRON. [Yawningly.] I came up here to relax, Charlie.
HAYES. Oh, for Pete's sake, Waldron.
WALDRON. Go ahead. Don't let me stop you.
McFEDRIES. You, uh - you'll co-operate though, won't you, Clem?
WALDRON. Sure, Mac. I'll - talk to one of 'em.
HAYES. That's better. It may not even turn out, you know.
WALDRON. Go ahead.
McFEDRIES. Do your stuff, Charlie. If they don't look-- uh -- intelligent,
don't feel badly about coming back alone.
HAYES. [Fading.] You know me, Mac. I'm a trustworthy guy. Get out your prayer
rugs.
SOUND. [B.G. fades out with voice.]
MUSIC. [In and behind. Out at (X).]
McFEDRIES. Charlie disappeared in the darkness, and we watched his flashlight
swing along the path to the cottage on the bluffs. We heard him knock on
their door, and the door opened with a splash of light. Charlie talked and
laughed with them for a few minutes, and then we saw them all coming out the
front door, and the door closed.
SOUND. [Night crickets, distant boat whistles, in and behind.]
McFEDRIES. It was dark again. There was only Charlie's flashlight coming along
the path, leading the way. (X)
HAYES. [Off.] Hey! Let's have some light on the porch!
WALDRON. Better light the lamp, Mac.
McFEDRIES. [Excited.] Lamp? Oh, sure. Got a match?
WALDRON. [Cool.] They're on the table there.
SOUND. [Laughter and voices approaching.]
McFEDRIES. Okay. I got 'em.
SOUND. [Rattle of lamp and match struck with:]
McFEDRIES. I hope Charlie wasn't too hasty.
HAYES. [Coming on.] Three lonely men and three lonely women not knowing each
other. Now, that sort of thing must be attended to, you know.
SOUND. [Several pairs of feet mounting steps.]
HAYES. Ahhhh! Glow of welcome. [The women giggle.] Now, let me see if I can
get all the names straight. Uh -- Fran?
FRAN. Uh huh.
HAYES. This is Clem Waldron ...
WALDRON. Hello.
HAYES. ... and Mac McFedries. Fran Howard.
FRAN. How d'you do?
McFEDRIES. Hi!
HAYES. And Helen -- what's your last name again?
HELEN. Rowley.
HAYES. Rowley, that's it. Uh -- Clem Waldron. Helen--
HELEN. We met at suppertime. Hello.
WALDRON. Hello. Your washing all finished?
WOMEN. [Laugh.]
HAYES. All right, Waldron. Let me get the formalities over with. Uh -- and
Mac McFedries. Helen Rowley.
HELEN. Hello.
McFEDRIES. Call me Mac.
HAYES. And-- uh --where's, uh--?
FRAN. Mary! [With a laugh.] Well, don't hide.
HELEN. Oh, come on, Mary.
HAYES. [Pleasantly.] Oh! There you are! Uh -- Mary Thomas -- it is Thomas,
isn't it?
FRAN. [With a chuckle.] Mary's kind of shy. She - she likes to just nod her
head.
HAYES. Mary-- uh -- Mac McFedries.
McFEDRIES. Hello, Mary!
HAYES. --and Clem Waldron.
BIZ. [Pause.]
WALDRON. [Stunned.] Hello -- Mary.
HAYES. [Aware of the spark.] Uh -- yes, well, let's sit down, shall we? Mac,
any refreshment?
BIZ. [Ad lib small talk and laughter.]
SOUND. [Chairs scraping on porch, fading out with voices and crickets.]
MUSIC. [In and behind, out at (X).]
McFEDRIES. Mary was an Italian girl, two generations removed from the Old
Land, and the Thomas was for Tomasino, a grandfather's gesture to citizenship
in his adopted home. She was slim and dark and quiet. Very beautiful, very real.
Waldron reacted to her like a hit on the head the moment she stepped out of
the shadows into the lamplight on the porch that night. I won't say it was
love at first sight, though Waldron always insisted it was exactly that. I
think it was just a sharp awareness of a bachelor's loneliness and the sudden
shock of finding unexpected beauty as a neighbor in a summer place like the
island. Not much more. Mary and Helen were elevator operators in a Vancouver
department store, and Fran, the third girl, was a waitress. Helen was only
plain according to Clem, but we got along fine. Fran and Charlie hit it off,
too. Both Charlie and I leaned pretty heavily on that easy intimacy that goes
with romps on the beach, the shared preparation of meals, and warm summer
nights with nothing on your mind but the weight of the stars. At first it
looked like a good holiday.
SOUND. [Birds singing, a distant whistle or two, faraway voices, in and
behind.]
McFEDRIES. Beginning the next morning, after a long night sitting out on the
porch getting to know each other, we talked back and forth as if we were all
living in the same cottage, ignoring the hundred yards that separated us. (X)
FRAN. [Far off, at the next cottage: Shouting.] Charlie! You going down to
the beach?
McFEDRIES. It's Fran.
HAYES. [Shouting back.] I'm ready whenever you are. Now?
FRAN. About two minutes.
HAYES. Right.
HELEN. [Same perspective as Fran.] You going down, Mac?
McFEDRIES. [Shouting back.] Sure, Helen.
HAYES. Better get into your trunks.
McFEDRIES. [Shouting.] I'll be just a shake getting changed. We'll pick you
up.
HELEN. Okay.
McFEDRIES. Where's Waldron?
HAYES. Where do you think? He and Mary went down an hour ago.
McFEDRIES. I wondered where-- [Realizes.] Oh! It's going to be like that, huh?
HAYES. Looks like it. [Ironic.] Will you keep me company, Mac, old friend?
McFEDRIES. [Matching him.] I'll keep you company.
BIZ. [They chuckle together, fading out.]
SOUND. [Fades out with laughter.]
MUSIC. [In and behind.]
McFEDRIES. Waldron and Mary kept their own hours, had their own meals -- at
the hotel, or a box-lunch at the beach or out in a rented boat, and the four
of us were left to ourselves. We kidded Waldron about it every night, and
Waldron said:
WALDRON. [Flatly.] I'm in love.
McFEDRIES. He said it often, but he said it as if he were trying to convince
himself.
WALDRON. [Insistent.] I'm in love. I love that girl ...
McFEDRIES. It was embarrassing, even for Charlie and me, who knew him pretty
well. And Helen and Fran told us that Mary didn't say anything much about it
at night when the girls went to bed; just told them that Waldron had told her
he was in love with her and gave them no indication whatsoever of her own
feelings. All six of us seldom got together. Whenever we saw Waldron and
Mary -- at the beach or sitting out on the bluffs at night -- it was like
seeing a couple of strangers. Charlie and I always thought of Waldron's
painful words:
WALDRON. I'm in love. I love that girl ...
McFEDRIES. Mary stayed over an extra day and the four of us went back
together. I think Waldron took her out a few times in town, but we didn't hear
much about it from him. He was transferred to another office of the agency
about a month later, and we weren't really close enough friends to correspond.
The whole business was pretty trivial, I guess, but I often remember it
whenever I see a girl that looks like Mary -- you know, that olive skin, that
exotic thing about pretty girls of the Latin type -- or when I go to a place
like the island for a holiday, or just happen to think about people you meet
in the summertime. It was one of those things.
MUSIC. [Continues for a few moments, then fades out.]
BIZ. [Pause.]
WALDRON. [Slightly filtered.] Hello -- Mary.
BIZ. [Pause.]
MARY. "Hello -- Mary," he said when we were first introduced -- only in a
funny way, like he knew me before, or was scared of me or something. It was at
a summer camp I went to one year with Helen Rowley and Frannie Howard. We took
a cottage at the camp, the three of us, putting all our vacation money
together to pay the rent and have enough for food for the two weeks, and
everything.
It was a lovely cottage overlooking the lovely bay at the camp, and the three
boys were in another cottage just back of us. Clem, I mean, and his friends.
Clem talked to Helen one night while she was hanging washing, and then one of
Clem's friends -- I forget his name -- come over later and talked to all of
us, and asked us to come and be sociable with our neighbors, and we all went.
That was when I met Clem, when we all went over to their place, and he spoke
to me in that funny way.
Clem was very nice to me and talked to me a lot more'n he talked to Helen or
Frannie, and we had a lovely time. The next day Clem took me to the beach, and
out to lunch at the hotel, and then out in a boat he rented for the afternoon,
and then to the hotel again for supper. That night, we got cushions and a rug
and went and sat on the bluffs a little ways down below the front of our
cottage and looked down at the bay and the boats that were always there. It
was a lovely evening, and Clem was very nice.
SOUND. [Crickets, distant lap of water, small boat whistles and intermittent
night calls and voices far away.]
MARY. Clem was always very nice to me. I can remember almost everything he
said.
WALDRON. How old are you, Mary?
MARY. Guess.
WALDRON. I could, but I think I'd be wrong.
MARY. Try.
WALDRON. No, I'm sure I'd be wrong.
MARY. Oh, go on. Guess.
WALDRON. [After a moment.] Twenty-two? [Pause.] Twenty-two? Am I right?
MARY. [Disappointed.] Yes.
WALDRON. Oh, I - I spoiled it. I had to go and guess it correctly. Did you
want me to think you were older?
MARY. No.
WALDRON. Younger?
MARY. No.
WALDRON. Well, what then?
MARY. I guess I just didn't want you to guess right, that's all. It's no fun
when somebody guesses right.
WALDRON. Yeah, I know. Well, I was going to say twenty-three. I almost said
twenty-three.
MARY. Did you?
BIZ. [Pause. A youthful voice can be heard shouting in the distance: "Sally!
Oh, Sally!"]
WALDRON. You're very, very beautiful, Mary.
MARY. Oh, you.
WALDRON. So brown, and-- Where did you get all that sun?
MARY. Well, that isn't just sun.
WALDRON. [Remembering.] Oh, course not. I forgot. What's the Thomas for?
MARY. Tomasino.
WALDRON. That's your real name?
MARY. Thomas is my real name now. Tomasino was my grandfather's name, at home.
WALDRON. Were you born here?
MARY. Oh, yes.
WALDRON. In Vancouver?
MARY. Yes.
BIZ. [Voice in the distance: "Sally!"]
WALDRON. Why didn't I ever meet you before?
MARY. [With a self-conscious laugh.] There's a lot of people in Vancouver. A
lot of girls. I bet you know a lot of girls in Vancouver, Clem.
WALDRON. No, not many. None at all like you.
MARY. Oh, you.
HELEN. [Far off.] Is that you down there, Mary?
WALDRON. [Groans quietly.]
MARY. [Calling back.] Yes.
FRAN. [Far off.] Are you all right?
MARY. Yes.
FRAN. Okay.
WALDRON. [Chuckles.]
MARY. [Laughs embarrassedly.] Helen and Frannie -- always worrying.
WALDRON. How many are in your family?
MARY. A lot.
WALDRON. Well, how many?
MARY. Seven.
WALDRON. Well, that's not really many.
MARY. You should hear them.
WALDRON. Brothers and sisters?
MARY. Five brothers. One sister. So noisy.
WALDRON. Your sister?
MARY. All of them.
WALDRON. Do they tease you much?
MARY. George. George does. And Tina.
WALDRON. Is your sister older or younger than you are?
MARY. Oh, younger. I'm the oldest of them all.
WALDRON. You are? I'd have thought you were the youngest.
MARY. Me? Are you kidding?
WALDRON. [Wonderingly.] No, I - I would have thought that.
MARY. [A happy sigh.] It's lovely out here. [Pause.] Moon. [Pause.] When I
come out on the porch this morning, early, the moon was still out.
WALDRON. Was it?
MARY. How old are you, Clem? How--? Oh, please, please, don't. [Her last word
is muted as he kisses her.]
WALDRON. ... Mary.
MARY. You shouldn't do that.
WALDRON. Why not?
MARY. I don't know you. I don't know you hardly at all. You shouldn't do that
if--
WALDRON. Know me? [Quickly, impatiently.] I'm twenty-nine years old, I was
born in Grand Forks, British Columbia, went to school in Vancouver Univ-- I
got a brother and two sisters, I work in advertising-- I'm unmarried,
unattached, unhappy, and I think you're-- [Close.] Kiss me again.
MARY. Clem, no.
WALDRON. Mary.
MARY. ... Yes. You're bad.
SOUND. [Boat whistle. Then, out.]
MARY. Clem wasn't really bad, even though after a few days he started to look
at me more and more in that funny way he looked at me when we were first
introduced. I seen other boys look at me that way, and I never liked it, but
when Clem looked at me like that, it seemed all right 'cause Clem was such a
fine person. He took me everywheres on the island and at the end of a week
there wasn't a place left we didn't go to. We just lay on the beach after
that, and went to the hotel for lunch, and sat out on the bluffs at night
after dancing. Clem told me he loved me one night and asked me if I loved him
and I couldn't tell him if I did or not because I didn't know, and when I
told Helen and Frannie that Clem said he loved me, they asked me how I felt
and I couldn't tell them either, one way or the other. I just didn't know.
Summertime fools a girl about love, you know.
SOUND. [Lap and wash -- close, and a distant radio.]
MARY. The second to last night at the camp we went down to the wharf and sat
at the end and dropped matches in the water below us until very late.
WALDRON. That must be a radio on one of the boats out there.
MARY. It's lovely.
WALDRON. Why don't we dance?
MARY. Dance? Here on the wharf?
WALDRON. Why not? [Scrambling to his feet.] Come on -- up you get.
MARY. Oh, Clem -- the matches! And your cigarettes!
WALDRON. [Chuckles.]
MARY. The whole package went over! Have you got any more?
WALDRON. Naw. It doesn't matter. Come on. [He hums as they dance.]
MARY. It's rough on the planks.
WALDRON. Pick up your feet.
MARY. [Having difficulty.] Oh, Clem, I can't--
WALDRON. Course you can.
BIZ. [They dance for a moment. Clem hums. Mary breathes.]
WALDRON. [Down.] Aw. Sorry, darling. Don't you know that step?
MARY. [Embarrassed.] No, I-- I--
WALDRON. Look. Look down. Now, watch my feet. [Hums again.]
MARY. I--I don't know that one. It's hard to hear the music now, isn't it?
WALDRON. It's the wind.
MARY. Please, Clem. Let's stop. Let's just sit.
WALDRON. All right.
MARY. Give me your hand while I get down--
WALDRON. Watch yourself--
MARY. [Sitting.] There. What are you doing?
WALDRON. Your wonderful hair. Feels like--like ... so soft.
MARY. Oh, you. It's just old hair.
WALDRON. Oh, no. [With effort: sitting down.] No. It isn't.
MARY. Careful.
WALDRON. [Relaxing.] Ah, it's all right. Here. Give me your hand. It's a
beautiful hand.
MARY. Dirty. These planks.
WALDRON. A ring would look wonderful on that finger.
MARY. [Wide-eyed shock.] Clem! You shouldn't say that!
WALDRON. Say what?
MARY. You shouldn't say that about rings. You shouldn't ever say things like
that unless you mean it.
WALDRON. I - I mean it.
MARY. [After a moment.] No.
WALDRON. Yes. [Unconvincingly.] I - I - I do.
MARY. Clem, please ...
WALDRON. Would you-- [clears his throat] --marry me if I asked you to?
MARY. Oh no, Clem, you mustn't say that.
WALDRON. Why? I'm-- I'm --
MARY. No. It--it don't seem right--when--
WALDRON. --When?
MARY. When that's not what you want. That's not what you want, Clem.
WALDRON. I want you.
MARY. Yes. That's not the same.
WALDRON. Mary ...
MARY. [After a pause.] No, Clem.
WALDRON. All right. [Pause: ruefully.] Wish I had a cigarette.
SOUND. [Dissolves.]
MARY. I stayed over at the camp an extra day -- I had an extra day owing from
a day I worked at Christmas -- and went back to the city with Clem and his
friends. It was a lovely trip, and Clem made me promise to let him take me
out the next night. He had a car, but it was being fixed while he was on his
holiday. He wanted to take me home in a taxi from the boat, but I didn't
want him to. I didn't want him to come out before I could tell about him to
Mama and Papa. Mama was happy when I told them but Papa was angry because he
always said he had to look at a boy before I went out with him, and I was glad
that I didn't say nothing -- like that Clem said he loved me or that he wanted
to marry me.
Next night, Clem come around for me about eight. I wasn't ready so he talked
to Papa and George -- I don't think they got along 'cause when we went out he
acted as if he was mad about something. I had on my white suit, just cleaned,
and we went dancing. But Clem said it was too crowded and he was tired, so we
left and went to a show. When he took me home he said something about calling
me and we'd go dancing or something like that where it wasn't too crowded. But
I didn't hear from him again. I guess he was too busy.
That was four or five years ago, but every year since when I've gone to a camp
and met other boys, I think of Clem. Even last year, after I was married, when
Rico and me had the same cottage as Helen and Frannie and me had that summer,
I thought of him. I really think of him quite a lot -- that funny way he
looked at me when we were first introduced. Rico - never looks at me that way.
BIZ. [Pause.]
WALDRON. [Slightly filtered.] Hello -- Mary.
MUSIC. [In. Out at (X).]
WALDRON. She was one of the most beautiful women I've ever known. She wasn't
a woman, really -- a girl, a beautiful animal, a wonderful gesture of Nature.
She was Italian, Canadian-born, and we met at a summer place, a West Coast
island resort I went to one year with McFedries and Hayes when I was in the
Vancouver office. I only knew her a little more than two weeks, but sometime
every summer since then I've thought of her. In all honesty, I don't know how
I felt about her. I think, at first, I was in love with her. At one point, I
even considered marrying her. Whatever it was, I wanted her, and it was like a
fever. It wasn't normal, it was very foolish and untidy, and I went about it
like a schoolboy. And I remember overhearing McFedries and Hayes talking about
it one night.
SOUND. [Night crickets, in and behind:]
WALDRON. They were out on the porch, and hadn't heard me come in the back
door. (X)
[Both voices slightly off.]
McFEDRIES. He says he's in love with her.
HAYES. That could mean any one of a dozen things.
McFEDRIES. Sure. But not the way he says it.
HAYES. I don't know why he says it at all. He keeps saying it, that's the
thing that confuses me. He keeps insisting on it.
McFEDRIES. That's not like Waldron.
HAYES. Ah, she is beautiful, Mac.
McFEDRIES. I'll give you that, sure. But hardly Waldron's type.
HAYES. What do you mean by that?
McFEDRIES. An elevator operator, maybe only a year of high school -- maybe
not even that.
HAYES. If you say "poor but honest," I'll leave this conversation.
McFEDRIES. [Chuckling.] Okay, okay. But you know what I mean. At least, you
know Waldron.
HAYES. Well, superficially. But I suppose you're right.
McFEDRIES. I don't know. What is it they say about summer romances?
HAYES. I couldn't tell you.
McFEDRIES. [Fading.] Oh, you could make it up I guess, for all it matters.
Pretty obvious example with Waldron, I think.
SOUND. [Fades out with voice.]
MUSIC. [In and behind, out at (X).]
WALDRON. I was too annoyed to walk in on that conversation. I suppose I didn't
particularly want them to know I'd been listening. Nobody likes that kind of
thing. That was the night that I asked her to marry me. She refused, of
course, and was very embarrassed with my asking. I must have sounded pretty
hollow, now that I think back on it. I felt something big and important inside
me and I made a mistake about it. I think it was simply a case of not being
aware of that nice difference between love and desire. But she knew, she knew.
Nevertheless, we had an exciting two weeks. Exciting for me, anyway. She was a
thrilling kind of a girl. When she wasn't in her bathing suit, she wore bright
blouses and slacks. And she was one of the few women I've ever known who
looked well in slacks. A lot of women must have hated her for her loveliness.
I think I hated her a little myself -- she wasn't mine.
When we went back to town, we took the late evening boat and the moonlight at
sea helped to stretch out the last few hours of the holiday. It was another
world to me -- and I was afraid to leave it. She wanted to go home alone,
refusing to let me take her out in a taxi, so I - I got her address and made
arrangements to call for her the following night. (X)
It was an address in the far east side of the city, and when I drove out in my
car the next night I had trouble finding it. It was a narrow two-story house
between a confectionery and a metal-work shop. It was still daylight, no
lights on, and you wouldn't have thought anybody could live there.
SOUND. [Feet on stairs and porch.]
WALDRON. I went loudly up the steps of the low porch to the door, trying to
trample down with my feet the thoughts that were running in my head.
SOUND. [Door opens.]
GEORGE. [Sixteen.] How ya?
WALDRON. [A little surprised.] Oh, good evening. Is, er--?
GEORGE. You Mr. Waldurn?
WALDRON. Yes. Is this--?
GEORGE. I'm George. We saw your car pull up. She just shouted down that she'd
only be a minute. Come on in.
WALDRON. Uh --thank you.
SOUND. [Enters. Door closes. Footsteps through house.]
GEORGE. In here'll be okay.
THOMAS. [Off.] Ah! Good evening-- George! Beat it!
GEORGE. [Slightly off.] Awww.
WALDRON. Are you--? Are you Mister--?
THOMAS. Sit down, Mr. Waldron. Excuse us the supper dishes. Mama took the
children to the movie theatre early.
GEORGE. [Off.] I seen the picture. It's lousy.
THOMAS. Shut up -- Nice to see you, Mr. Waldron. I don't think she'll be so
long. Girls. You know.
WALDRON. Ah, it's perfectly all right. [Pause.] Lots of time.
THOMAS. Er-- What business you in, Mr. Waldron?
WALDRON. [Nervously.] Business? I'm, uh-- advertising agency here. Everett,
Fuller and--
THOMAS. I'm in the grocery business myself. You happen to notice my store
down in the next block?
WALDRON. Next door here?
THOMAS. No, that's old Woczinski -- I'm down the next block.
WALDRON. No, I didn't notice it. [Pause.] No.
GEORGE. What do you do in the advertising agency business, Mr. Waldurn?
Billboards and all like that?
WALDRON. [Taken aback.] Yeah. Yep. All like that.
GEORGE. Uh-huh. Business good?
WALDRON. Yeah. Yeah. Pretty good.
THOMAS. We're doing good, too. Oh, yes.
SOUND. [Footsteps on stairs.]
GEORGE. Here she is. All got up. [Fading.] All got up to go places. Gee,
don't she smell good ...
SOUND. [Fades out with voice.]
MUSIC. [In and behind, growing in intensity.]
WALDRON. This time she was wearing a white cotton suit that had been laundered
too often and was too small for her, and her hair was done up in a sort of
braid wound around her head, and -- she wasn't the same girl at all. We went
dancing. It wasn't any good -- we didn't dance the same way. Then we went to a
late movie, and then coffee at a drive-in, then out to her house. None of it
was the same, none of it was any good. I told her I'd phone her, and drove
back to my apartment the long way. And I got word that I was to be transferred
a couple of days later, and I didn't call her. I couldn't. [Pause.] It's very
difficult for a man to get over realizing that he's a snob.
MUSIC. [Tightens, and subsides.]
WALDRON. Funny, it was so important, and yet I can't even remember her name.
MUSIC. [Lingers for a few moments, and dies away.]
APPLAUSE.
ANNOUNCER. From radio's celebrated playhouse, Studio One, you have just heard
Mr. Burgess Meredith starring in Fletcher Markle's production of his own
original radio play, "Sometime Every Summertime." For this week only, Studio
One has been heard as a half hour program. The second part of our usual hour
being relinquished for a special broadcast. Tonight's script was selected from
the current volume of _Radio's Best Plays_, edited by Joseph Liss. And the
original musical score was composed by Lana Domian and conducted by Alexander
Semmler. Now again, Mr. Markle.
MARKLE. May a producer identify the principals in tonight's cast? In the
foreground ...
MEREDITH. ... Clem Waldron ...
MARKLE. ... was played, of course, by Mr. Meredith.
JOUDRY. Mary Thomas ...
MARKLE. ... was played by Patricia Joudry.
DRYDEN. McFedries ...
MARKLE. ... was Robert Dryden.
RENNIE. Charlie Hayes ...
MARKLE. ... was Hedley Rennie.
ROBINSON. George ...
MARKLE. ... was Larry Robinson.
WOLFSON. Papa Thomas ...
MARKLE. ... was played by Martin Wolfson. Actively assisting in the supporting
cast were Miriam Wolfe, Toni Darnay, and Louis Quinn.
Burgess Meredith will soon be seen starring in the London Film production
"Mine Own Executioner."
Next week from Studio One, a special play to welcome the first day of Spring.
It's the story of a boy and girl who discover that the world still holds
enchantment for the pure in heart. Our play is "One More Spring" by Robert
Nathan and our visting star is one of Hollwood's most entrancing young
actresses, Miss Susan Peters. We hope you'll be with us. Meantime, we'd like
very much to hear from you about the kind of stories you'd like us to present
in future programs on Studio One. We've chosen our stories in the past months
with every intention of pleasing and we'd like to know from you if we've
succeeded, what particular plays and performers you'd like to hear in weeks to
come. If you have a moment, and a post card, please let us know. And now,
until next week, until "One More Spring" with Susan Peters, this is Fletcher
Markle with a good night and thank you from all of us in Studio One.
APPLAUSE.
ANNOUNCER. This is Lee Vines and this is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting
System.
MUSIC.
__________________________________
Originally broadcast: 9 March 1948