1. education
2. school

Mash Notes
A reader’s theatre drama in two acts
Three female friends read the letters they have written or received over the years
Cast of Characters
AMY GARDINGELL − an actress, somewhat self-absorbed
MADGE ASKWORTH − an inquisitive, empathetic woman, a tomboy in her youth
BETTINA CHATSWORTH − a socially aware woman of privilege
Setting
Since this is reader's theatre, the set should consist of three seats with associated tables.
The script should be divided into letters arranged for each of the actors at their respective
stations. MADGE's station should be between the other two. There should be a
wastebasket on stage.
Time
The play covers the time period from 1957 to 1988, when the women range in age from
five to 35 or 36.
Mash Notes
1
ACT I
Scene 1
(New Year's Day, 1957. The women are
five years old.)
AMY
(reading)
Dear Gramma, thanks for the doll. Love, Amy.
(AMY puts the letter aside.)
MADGE
(reading)
Nana, thank you for the sled. It will be fun. XOX, Madge.
(MADGE puts the letter aside.)
BETTINA
(reading)
Dear Grandie, thank you so much for the beautiful pink dress you gave me for Christmas.
It's the perfect size for me, and I simply love the satin sash. I'll be wearing it for a special
occasion sometime soon. Happy New Year! Love, Bettina. P.S. Mummy wrote this
note, but I drew the picture that's enclosed of me in the dress.
(BETTINA picks up the drawing and shows it to the
audience.)
Isn't the pink to die for?
(BETTINA puts the letter and drawing aside. Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 2
(May, 1958. The women are five or six
years old. Each is writing a note that she
holds up, completed, when she speaks.)
AMY
Dear Madge, thanks for enviting me to your party. My Mommy says I cannot ettend. We
cannot efford a gift. Yours tuly, Amy.
(setting the letter aside)
My mother didn't proofread.
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2
BETTINA
Dear Madge, thanks so much for inviting me to that wonderful birthday party your
Mommy put together. It was a perfect delight, and I know that every single child had the
time of his or her life. Pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey was such fun! Expect an invitation to
my birthday party next month! With sincere thanks, Bettina. P.S. I dictated this to my
Mummy, who might have added a little of her own verbiage. But I drew the picture of
the present I gave you!
(BETTINA shows a drawing of a doll to the audience, then
sets the letter and drawing aside.)
MADGE
Dear Bettina, thank you for the doll. I do not like dolls. Yours truly, Madge.
(Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 3
(Valentine's Day, 1963. The women are 10
or 11 years old. AMY holds up a folded
note.)
AMY
(passing the note to MADGE, whispering)
Pass this to Bettina. It's from Johnny Sturges.
MADGE
(holding the note out to BETTINA)
Psst, psst.
(simultaneously pulling the note back and standing, as if
called upon by the teacher)
Yes, Miss Louder. The Panama Canal was started under the administration of Theodore
Roosevelt.
(MADGE apparently gets a compliment from the teacher.)
Thank you, Miss Louder.
(MADGE sits. BETTINA encourages MADGE to pass the
note on to her, but MADGE gives her looks to indicate the
teacher is looking. AMY then waves her hand and shouts
from her seat, allowing BETTINA to grab the note from
MADGE.)
Mash Notes
3
AMY
Oh, Miss Louder, I know! Yellow Fever!
(AMY looks chastened and puts her hand down. She then
stands up and speaks to the invisible teacher.)
Excuse me, Miss Louder. Yellow fever was the primary problem in completing the canal.
Full sentences.
(AMY starts to sit again, but stands again as she apparently
is chastised again.)
Excuse me, Miss Louder. I should always speak in full sentences.
(AMY sits. BETTINA looks at the note and takes out a
pencil, marking something on the note. She then waves it
in front of MADGE, who takes it quickly and hides it.)
BETTINA
(to MADGE, whispering)
Pass it back to Johnny.
(MADGE makes an eye movement to BETTINA,
indicating that the teacher is watching. AMY raises her
hand and is apparently called on. She stands and sidles
close to MADGE, picking up the note surreptitiously as she
speaks.)
AMY
The canal was completed in 1904.
(AMY apparently gets a reprimand from the teacher.)
Sorry, Miss Louder.
(immediately correcting herself to use a full sentence.)
I'm sorry, Miss Louder.
(AMY sits and opens the note as MADGE raises her hand
and then stands.)
MADGE
The canal was completed in 1914.
(MADGE smiles and nods as AMY takes out a pencil,
erases something on it and writes a check mark on it in a
different place. BETTINA looks on in disbelief. MADGE
sits. AMY, with a smug expression aimed at BETTINA,
holds the note out to pass it to someone else in class.
Blackout.)
Mash Notes
4
ACT I
Scene 4
(The next day. Focus is on BETTINA, who
has just finished writing a letter, which she
reads aloud.)
BETTINA
Amy, my mother said I should call you, but I am not talking to you, so I'm writing. I
know you changed the box on Johnny Sturges' note to “no” when he asked “May I be
your valentine?” Everyone knows that Johnny likes me best, and he didn't speak to me
the rest of the day. You have caused me untold anguish. (I asked my Mummy how to say
that.) You are not my friend, and I will not play with you ever again. Signed, Bettina
Chatsworth.
(BETTINA folds the note and stands, handing the note to
MADGE.)
Give this to Amy at recess.
(MADGE, with a roll of her eyes, takes the note and places
it in front of AMY. AMY takes the note, opens it, glances
at it, and tears it in half, walking past BETTINA to toss it in
the wastebasket. Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 5
(August, 1963. The women are 11 years
old. They are writing letters that they
occasionally pause to review out loud.)
AMY
Dear Mommy and Daddy, I am enjoying camp, but I miss you. There are lots of
activities, like canoeing and knot tying and crafts. I built a little cabin out of popsicle
sticks that I was planning to bring home with me, but Madge Askworth sat on it by
mistake. I don't know any of the other girls at camp.
MADGE
Dear Nana, thank you for the package of fudge. It was gone within fifteen minutes! All
the girls here at camp loved it. One of the girls is Amy Gardingell, who goes to school
with me. We share a bunk bed. Camp is good. Love, Madge.
BETTINA
Mummy, thank you so much for sending me to riding camp. I love the horses and the
open air. I'm learning so much about dressage. The pony they've assigned to me is so
Mash Notes
5
sweet and nice. She obeys every command. Could we maybe buy her at the end of the
season? Then I could continue the dressage.
AMY
Will you be able to attend the talent competition on the final day of camp? Madge and I
are doing a vaudeville routine her uncle taught her. I can't do it yet without laughing.
MADGE
Dear Uncle Jack, Camp is fun. I'm teaching “And slowly I turned” to my friend Amy for
our talent competition. Maybe you can come see it with Mommy? Step by step, your
niece, Madge.
BETTINA
The girls at camp are so much more fun than the girls at school. They all ask me why I'm
going to public school. I tell them it's because Daddy is a politician. Is that true,
Mummy? Couldn't I go to Lanceford Academy next year with Bitsy and Madeleine and
Muffin? They're my new best friends.
AMY
I'm the best swimmer in camp. I won the butterfly race and came in second in all the
others. I have a nice tan now, and one counselor calls me a “nut-brown maiden.” I like
the crafts too.
MADGE
Dear Daddy, thank you for paying for me to go to camp. My friend Amy from school is
here too. We have lots of fun. We will be doing Uncle Jack's comedy routine for the
talent competition on the last day of camp. Can you come? Please, please? And bring
Nana! Love and lots of hugs, your bitsy little Madge. P.S. But I'm not bitsy anymore!
I've grown a full inch at camp.
BETTINA
I'm sorry I'm asking for so much, Mummy, but all the other girls have more nice things
than I have. They made fun of my bathing suit, because it was from last year. I used all
my spending money to have one of the counselors buy me a new one for sunbathing. Can
you send me some more money?
AMY
I think I heard Joey making animal sounds from the boy's camp last night. His voice is so
loud! Tell Tommy that I miss him, and I hope he's enjoying having a room all to himself
while Joey is at camp. Next year, they both will be at camp, if Daddy's kemmissions are
as good as this year's!
MADGE
(referring to the letter to her Daddy)
Dear Mommy, thank you for letting me go to camp. My friend Amy from school is here
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6
too. We have lots of fun. We will be doing Uncle Jack's comedy routine for the talent
competition on the last day of camp. Please don't get mad if Daddy and Nana come to it.
I've grown an inch. Madge.
AMY
Love, Amy.
BETTINA
Love, Bettina. P.S. Give Daddy my love in Washington.
(Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 6
(October 29, 1963. The women are 11 years
old. They are reading aloud letters they are
writing as part of a school assignment.)
AMY
46 Springfield Street, Wilbraham, Massachusetts, October 29, 1963. Dear Gramma, we
have a school assignment to write a letter asking a question. We have to share the replies
next month. Mrs. Jameson is even worse than Miss Louder was last year, and always
gives us stupid assignments like this. Our letters are supposed to be wrote nicely. This is
the letter I am sending you. I will copy it out nice for the teacher, starting with the next
sentence. You have lived through many changes. You told me that movies was black
and white when you were growing up, and that they had no sound. Can you tell me what
the first movie was that you seen with color and sound? Your granddaughter, Amy.
MADGE
116 Main Street, Wilbraham, Massachusetts, October 29, 1963. Dear President Kennedy,
My name is Madge Askworth. My teacher, Mrs. Jameson, has given us the assignment to
write a letter using proper grammar, the proper format, and our best handwriting. We are
to ask a question and receive an answer within one month. I think all our class will be
interested in your answer to the following question: What is your favorite Hallowe'en
candy? Sincerely, Madge Askworth. P.S. I think you are the best president ever.
BETTINA
73 Faculty Street, Wilbraham, Massachusetts, October 29, 1963. Dear Daddy, please get
somebody important in Washington to send me a letter answering the following question:
What makes Edgar Chatsworth (that's you, Daddy!) the best representative from the state
of Massachusetts? Mommy said that it would be impressive and might be something for
you to use in your next campaign. She's writing the official letter for me to copy to
submit to the teacher. Love, Bettina. P.S. I miss you, Daddy!
Mash Notes
7
(Blackout or a light change to indicate the passing of time.)
ACT I
Scene 7
(November 1, 1963. BETTINA folds and
passes a note to MADGE. The women are
in casual positions, during the end of recess.)
BETTINA
Give this to Johnny Sturges.
MADGE
(passing the note to AMY)
For Johnny Sturges.
AMY
(opening and reading the note so others can hear)
“Johnny, was it you I smooched in the Frankenstein mask on Hallowe'en? XOXO,
Bettina.”
(BETTINA rises and goes to snatch the note back from
AMY, but a school buzzer sounds and she returns to her
seat. AMY writes on the bottom of the note.)
No, it was Johnny Sturges' dog.
(AMY re-folds the note and passes it to MADGE, who
passes it back to BETTINA. BETTINA unfolds it, reads it,
and glares at AMY. Blackout or a light change to indicate
the passing of time.)
ACT I
Scene 8
(December 1, 1963. The women are 11
years old. They stand in turn and read the
letters received as part of their last school
assignment.)
AMY
I asked my grandmother about the first color movie she saw with sound. This is what she
answered: “Dear Amy, the first film I saw with both color and sound was The Broadway
Melody of 1929. The only color sequence was The Wedding of the Painted Doll, but it
Mash Notes
8
was what they called an all-talking, all-singing, all-dancing picture, so there was sound
throughout. But my cousin Vilia saw a silent version of the very same picture! Love,
Gramma.”
AMY (cont'd)
(speaking to the teacher)
No, Mrs. Jameson, I don't see.
(as if having received instructions from the teacher to reread the last sentence.)
“But my cousin Vilia saw a silent version of the very same picture.”
(as if answering a question from the teacher)
“But” is the first word.
(with sudden insight)
She started the sentence with a conjunction. That was wrong. I'm sorry, Mrs. Jameson.
(AMY sits, chastened.)
BETTINA
“Dear Miss Chatsworth, thank you for your question about the representation of
Massachusetts in the United States House of Representatives. The town of Wilbraham is
well-represented by Edgar Chatsworth, whose record of service is unparalleled in your
congressional district. Sincerely, Alvin P. Bates, press representative.” It's on the
letterhead of the office of Vice President Lyndon Baines Johnson. He's president now.
(BETTINA proudly shows the letter around, then sits.)
MADGE
“Dear Miss Askworth, I came across your letter as I was clearing out my office. As you
know, this is a sad time in Washington for all the former aides of President Kennedy. I
did not know the president well, and the only foods I know he liked were New England
clam chowder and hot fudge sundaes. I can tell you that Caroline Kennedy took a
gumdrop from the candy dish in my office once, so I know she likes them! I'm sorry I
cannot tell you what candy was President Kennedy's favorite on Hallowe'en. Please pray
for his family in this, their time of sorrow. Yours truly, Meriwether Blake.”
(MADGE slides back into her seat.)
BETTINA
(mouthing the words at MADGE)
Show-off!
(Blackout.)
Mash Notes
9
ACT I
Scene 9
(December 26, 1963. The women are 11
years old. They are reading letters they have
written.)
AMY
Dear Gramma, thanks for the picture book of Little Women. I've already started reading
it, and I like it so far, especially the pictures of June Allyson and Elizabeth Taylor. We
had a very nice Christmas. We missed you. Love, Amy.
MADGE
Dearest Nana, thank you for the science kit. Daddy says it will let me make smells and
potions. He says it's a play on words for “spells and potions.” It made me laugh.
Mommy says I can't have it in our house, since the sulfur will smell up the place like the
fires of hell, so I will only play with it at Daddy's. Happy New Year! Love, Madge.
BETTINA
(reading and then signing one letter)
Dear Grandie, thanks for the money. Rest assured that every penny will be spent wisely.
Yours, Bettina.
(reading and then signing another letter)
Dear Uncle Andrew and Aunt Colleen, thanks for the money. Rest assured that every
penny will be spent wisely. Yours, Bettina.
(reading and then signing a third letter, sourly)
Dear Congressman Switzer, thanks for the flag pin and the brochure describing the
federal government. It's so educational, and so unlike my other Christmas gifts.
Sincerely, Bettina Chatsworth.
(putting the letter down and calling over her shoulder)
Mummy, do I have to sign all these thank-you notes all by myself?
(Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 10
(Early September, 1966. The women are 14
years old.)
MADGE
(writing and periodically reviewing a letter)
Dear Bettina, how do you like Lanceford Academy? We miss you in public school. I
was surprised when we didn't have any classes together here in high school. I asked
Mash Notes
10
around, and Amy told me your parents had moved you to private school. She said her
parents said your father must not be seeking re-election next year, and that the only reason
you were ever in public school was so he'd seem a man of the people. Is that true? I
thought you liked being in class with us. I always liked going to parties at your house.
Your mother was so nice to me. Johnny Sturges is telling everyone he went practically all
the way with you over the summer. Is that true? I think he's just mad at you for spending
a month at the beach and then not saying good-bye to him when you went off to boarding
school. I'm a little mad too. You didn't say good-bye to anyone. Are you lonely there?
I'm a little lonely here in high school. There are so many kids from different schools, and
I don't know anyone in the advanced biology class I'm in. Amy is in French with me, but
she's hanging around with kids who make fun of me behind my back. I got a pixie cut
over the summer, and they call me “Butch.” Do you still have your long hair? Let's keep
in touch. Madge.
AMY
(writing dreamily on a piece of scrap paper)
Amy Sturges. Mrs. Amy Sturges. Mrs. John Sturges. Mrs. John Alexander Sturges.
Amy Elizabeth Gardingell Sturges.
BETTINA
Dear Mummy, they make us write home each week, even though you say you'll pick me
up at least one weekend a month. My room is very nice. The girl who was my roommate
got homesick and left after a week, so I have the room all to myself. I don't really need
anything, except help with my homework. The classes here are so hard! The other girls
say that a public school education may have disadvantaged me for life. Muffin, who was
so nice to me at riding camp a few years ago, is the worst of them all. Her parents are
Republicans, and she calls me “populist spawn.” I got a letter from a girl from public
school, and she says they miss me. Bye for now, Bettina.
(Blackout or a lighting effect suggesting the passage of
time.)
ACT I
Scene 11
(Late September, 1966. The women are still
14 years old, and all are writing letters.)
MADGE
(writing and periodically reviewing a letter)
Dear Bettina, are you all right? You haven't responded to my letter. I know I have the
address of Lanceford Academy right, but do you have a room number and a dormitory
name that's needed for mail to get to you more quickly? I called your mother once to find
out, but she said she was too busy to look it up. School here sucks. I got the only A on
Mash Notes
11
the first biology test, and all the other kids say I'm ruining the curve. I can't help it that I
like science! Biology is okay, but I can't wait until chemistry next year. Amy says she's
going steady with Johnny Sturges, but I don't think it will last. He hasn't given her a pin
or anything.
(AMY tears up the scrap paper she was writing on and
selects a new piece of paper to write on.)
AMY
(writing in big letters)
Johnny Sturges is a liar!!!
(looking at her handiwork)
Let's see how you like this posted on your locker tomorrow, Mr. Asking-BeckyBradshaw-to-the-Dance.
MADGE
(continuing her letter)
Do you hear from anybody else at school here? I guess you're making new friends there.
Does Lanceford Academy have a good science program? It has a reputation for getting
girls into the best colleges, but so does Wilbraham Academy. Why didn't your parents
send you there as a day student? As for me, I'll just have to study hard and get straight
A's here in public school to get my chance at a good college. I like having different
teachers for each class. Remember how Miss Louder and Mrs. Jameson always used to
be so strict? The English teacher, Miss Herley, is a little mean, but the others are all fine.
Let me know how you're doing at Lanceford. Your friend, Madge.
BETTINA
Dear Mummy, here's my weekly letter. It's been five weeks since I started school here,
and you haven't come up one weekend yet. You haven't called either. I left phone
messages with the cleaning lady. Did you get them? Is she a live-in maid now? Daddy
called once, and we had a nice, brief conversation. He says living in Washington for him
is just like my living in this dorm room. I think he's lonely for you too. I'm doing better
in classes. There's nothing much to do here except study. I've been riding once, but it's
not the same when I don't have my own horse like the other girls. I know you told me it
was a horse or Lanceford Academy, but not both, but they have stables here, It wouldn't
be as much trouble as boarding a horse near home. It took me three years to wear you
down about going to Lanceford, so now I have to start wearing you down about a horse!
Please think about it. I adore riding. Love, your daughter Bettina.
(Blackout or a lighting effect suggesting the passage of
time.)
Mash Notes
12
ACT I
Scene 12
(January, 1967. The women are 14 or 15
years old.)
AMY
Dear Miss Barbara Harris, My name is Amy Gardingell. I just saw you in Oh Dad, Poor
Dad, Mama's Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feeling So Sad. I thought you were so
funny in the movie. I also have the album of On a Clear Day You Can See Forever. You
are so good singing too. And you like long titles! I hope your new Broadway show, The
Apple Tree, is doing well. I asked for the album for Christmas, but I didn't get it. Money
was tight. Your fan, Amy Gardingell. P.S. I snuck into the movie. My parents said it
was too grown-up for me.
MADGE
Dear Bettina, thank you for the Christmas card. I wish you'd written more in it, but I
guess you're doing okay at Lanceford Academy. Best wishes for 1967! Madge
Askworth.
BETTINA
Mummy, I am not writing a thank-you note to Grandie. She was with us at Christmas,
and I thanked her in person. Grandpa barely knew any of us, and I know he is taking up
all her time. I know you bought the dress she gave me, and I will not wear it. It's in the
closet back home. The hall closet; not the bedroom closet, since I know you've given my
room to the live-in maid. Consider this my monthly letter. I am doing fine in classes,
with absolutely nothing to do here but study. Give my best to Daddy, if you ever see him.
Bettina.
(Blackout or a lighting effect suggesting the passage of
time.)
ACT I
Scene 13
(April, 1967. The women are 14 or 15 years
old.)
AMY
Dear Mr. Robert Morse, I just saw you in How to Succeed in Business Without Really
Trying. I thought you were so funny in the movie, and you sing so good too! Earlier this
year, I saw you in Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Mama's Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feeling
So Sad. You like long titles! You were good in that too. Your fan, Amy Gardingell.
P.S. I like singing and got a part in our spring school musical, even though I'm only a
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13
freshman!
MADGE
Dear Bettina, I'm writing to you to keep you up-to-date on doings here in Wilbraham.
The spring musical is Camelot, and Amy is in the chorus. I'm helping backstage and will
help with the glitter makeup for Nimue, the one who tempts Merlin. Merlin and all the
principal roles are played by seniors. Johnny Sturges is doing intramural wrestling. He's
going with a sophomore now, and everyone considers that a scandal. I was working on a
biology project for the science fair, but my tadpoles died when I increased the pollutants
in their water. I wish you'd write back sometime. Your friend, Madge Askworth.
BETTINA
Daddy, something is wrong with Mummy. She hasn't picked me up at school since
Christmas, and it's April now. She let me sit here alone during all of Easter break. I
called her on the phone yesterday, and she was crying and sounded drunk. She said the
maid had left. I'm worried. Will you see her soon, or at least call her? I won't call your
office, since I know we're not supposed to air dirty linen outside the family. Don't you
have a phone at your apartment in Washington? No one has ever given me the number.
If you come home, can you please, please cross the state line to visit me at Lanceford,
even if there aren't any of your constituents here?
(writing)
Your daughter, Bettina.
(putting down her pen and not writing)
P.S. Remember me?
(Blackout or a lighting effect suggesting the passage of
time.)
ACT I
Scene 14
(June, 1967. The women are 14 or 15 years
old.)
MADGE
Dear Bettina, school ends here tomorrow. Will you be coming back to Wilbraham for the
summer? I hope so. It would be nice to see you again. I'm sorry I haven't written the
past couple of months. Camelot kept me busy. It was a big success. Amy stepped in for
Nimue at the last minute when Judy Stinson, a senior, got laryngitis. It's gone to her
head, even if it was just one soprano song. I'm skipping camp this summer and will
spend this month and next with my father and his new wife. She seems nice. She has a
daughter a year younger than us, so I guess I'll be spending a lot of time with her. I'll be
back with my mother in Wilbraham in August. Will you be in town then? Your friend
(at least I hope so), Madge. P.S. Johnny Sturges has a scholarship for wrestling next year
Mash Notes
14
at Wilbraham Academy.
AMY
Dear William Morris Agency, I recently played the important supporting role of Nimue in
our school's production of Camelot. I received great reviews for my singing, acting, and
dancing. I have enclosed a head shot and some action photos from the production. I will
be spending time in New York City the first two weeks of July. I hope you will schedule
an appointment for me with your talent director during that time. Yours sincerely, Amy
Gardingell.
(AMY flips over the letter and the accompanying
photographs, showing them to the audience in the process.)
BETTINA
The Office of Congressman Edgar Chatsworth, 1447 Longworth House Office Building,
15 Independence Avenue, Washington, DC 20515. Dear Sir or Madam: Please ensure
that the enclosed letter reaches the congressman directly. It is personal and private. I
would appreciate confirmation in writing of its delivery, mailed to Bettina Chatsworth, 73
Faculty Street, Wilbraham, Massachusetts 01095. Thank you, Bettina Chatsworth.
(BETTINA puts this letter aside and holds up an addressed,
unopened envelope, then reads another letter.)
Dear Miss Chatsworth, the congressman is with a congressional delegation on an
extended trip to South America. Per his instructions, we are returning your letter to you,
unopened. Sincerely, Amanda Pinkerton, Office of Congressman Edgar Chatsworth.
(Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 15
(July 6, 1967. The women are 14 or 15
years old.)
AMY
July 6, 1967. Dear Madge, just a quick note to let you know I am in New York City and
yesterday I was at the William Morris Agency. I enclosed pictures from Camelot with my
request for an interview, and the secretary remarked on how good the make-up was.
Since you did it, I thought I'd let you know. You have to be nice to the little people on
the way up, right? Ha, ha. The agent was busy, so I didn't get an interview, but it's just a
matter of time. I love, love, love New York! I've seen The Apple Tree with Barbara
Harris (who I saw on the street and followed for a little bit!) and tomorrow my aunt and I
go to Cabaret at the Imperial Theatre. I love New York, and I love being away from my
parents and my little brothers! Yours, Amy Gardingell. P.S. The secretary told me that's
a good stage name – just catchy enough!
Mash Notes
15
MADGE
July 6, 1967. Cape Cod. Dear Bettina, I spoke to my mother on the phone and she said
there's a letter to me from you back in Wilbraham. I told her not to open it; that I'll read it
next month when I'm back there. She refused to send it on here unopened, saying that she
wasn't going to pay good postage to forward an envelope inside another envelope. She is
so cheap! I hope things are going well for you this summer. Your return address is
Wilbraham, so I guess you're at home. Mom said there was some scandal in town, but
she didn't go into detail. She's says it's un-Christian to gossip. I like my new step-mom.
Her daughter is a little chatty, but I just go for a swim when I can't take it anymore. I'll
see you in August! Your friend, Madge.
BETTINA
(reading a letter she did not write)
To Bettina, know that I have always loved you. This had nothing to do with you. Goodbye.
(Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 16
(October, 1967. The women are 14 or 15
years old.)
MADGE
(handing a note to AMY)
Johnny Sturges' next-door neighbor handed this to me for you.
AMY
From Johnny?
(reading the note)
Amy, will you go to the Harvest Dance with me on October 13th? Melissa won't go,
because she says Friday the 13th is bad luck, but I think she just doesn't want to be treated
as a townie and doesn't think a junior like her should go to a dance with a sophomore like
me. Meet me outside my house at 7 PM and we'll walk there. Johnny.
(taking a piece of paper and writing a note of her own)
Dear Johnny, go stag. You threw me over for Melissa, and what makes you think I want
to be treated like a townie at your precious Wilbraham Academy? Move on. Amy.
(folding the note and handing it to MARGE)
Return post.
(The lights may suggest a brief lapse of time.)
Mash Notes
16
BETTINA
(writing a note)
Dear Johnny, I'll be happy to go to the dance with you. The kids haven't treated me too
nicely since my mother's suicide attempt and my Dad's taking me out of private school
this term to be with her. You can say I'm from Lanceford Academy if you want, so you
won't be embarrassed at taking a townie. I know what it's like to go into a new
environment like you've done this year. Your friend, Bettina.
(The lights may suggest an even briefer lapse of time.)
AMY
(writing on a new piece of paper, livid)
Johnny Sturges, you are a horrid, horrid boy for taking that snotty Bettina Chatsworth to
your dance. She is mentally ill, just like her lesbo, suicidal mother! Signed, Guess Who.
(AMY folds the paper and hands it to MADGE.)
MADGE
Johnny Sturges, return post?
(AMY nods. Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 17
(June, 1970. The women are 17 or 18 years
old. They pass a yearbook from one to
another, opening to the page they refer to
and penning the greeting they state.)
AMY
(turning to a page)
Drama Club. Senior play, Pygmalion.
(writing)
High school is over. On to Broadway! Yours, Amy.
MADGE
(turning to a page)
Science Club, Westinghouse Talent Search finalist.
(writing)
Roses are red, H2O's water. Best wishes to Wilbraham's favorite daughter! Friends
forever, Madge Askworth, your home room pal.
Mash Notes
17
BETTINA
(turning to a page)
Class photo.
(writing)
Best wishes always! Bettina Chatsworth.
(Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 18
(Fall, 1970. The women are 18 years old.)
AMY
Dear Gramma, New York is so expensive! Aunt Eunice and Uncle Charlie have let me
stay in their study these first few weeks, but they say I have to move out soon. I'm
looking for an acting job, but auditions are so hard to get. I've been on two cattle call
auditions (one where anyone can try out), but it looks like I'll have to pay my dues before
I make it big as a Broadway star! Can you maybe send me some money for rent, or talk
to Uncle Charlie and see if you can work your mother magic on him to get him to let me
stay here a little longer? I know my parents have no spare money this year. Love, Amy.
MADGE
Dear Nana, thank you for the package of fudge. It was gone within fifteen minutes! All
the girls here in the dorm loved it. Keep it up and I'll be the most popular girl at Mount
Holyoke! Love, Madge.
BETTINA
Dear Grandie, I'm so sorry to hear about the passing of Elmer. I only saw him a couple of
times, the first time at Grandpa's funeral. I was happy to know that you had someone to
help fill your life. Someone who became the centerpiece of your life after Grandpa. I
know you loved him, and you must miss him terribly. Elmer was very talented, and
brought joy to all those who encountered him. I know I will miss him the next time I visit
you, but my sorrow cannot compare to yours. Please accept my heartfelt condolences.
Love, Bettina.
(putting that letter aside and reading another)
Mummy, I sent Grandie the condolence note for the death of her dog. If you or Dad had
picked me up from UMass, I would have gone with you to visit her last week. Amherst is
practically right on your way from Wilbraham to Brattleboro. I'm doing fine in my
classes, by the way, not that you'd ever ask. From the daughter whose phone calls you
never accept, Bettina.
(Blackout.)
Mash Notes
18
ACT I
Scene 19
(Spring, 1971. The women are 18 or 19
years old.)
AMY
Dear Madge, thanks for writing. High school seems so long ago! I got your letter from
my Aunt Eunice. I guess you didn't get my latest address from my folks. (It's the return
address on the envelope.) I'm a working actress in New York City now, which means I'm
waitressing full time and auditioning whenever I get a chance. I was an understudy for an
off-Broadway experimental show that lasted all of one performance. And don't tell
anyone, anyone, but I had an audition for Stag Movie, an off-Broadway musical about the
filming of guess what. Yes, a stag movie. It lasted a couple of months earlier this year
and had – gasp! – nudity in it. I may get another naked audition as a replacement for Oh!
Calcutta!, but it's a long shot, since I don't have an agent yet. Show business is tough!
I'm sharing an efficiency apartment with two other girls, one from Oklahoma and the
other from upstate New York. It's crowded, but there's so much to do in the city that
we're usually out and about. I'm making some friends here and trying out for everything
that might pay. I see my aunt and uncle about once a month for a Sunday dinner, and
that's enough family for me. My parents have their hands full with my brothers, who each
have their own room now, so it's probably just as well I'm out and on my own. I
understand Joey is hanging out with a bad crowd, and things are tense at home. I'm glad
you're enjoying Mount Holyoke. Do you see any of the gang from high school? Aren't
Bettina Chatsworth and Johnny Sturges both at UMass - Amherst? Are they still an item?
My parents and aunt and uncle keep telling me I'll regret not going to college, but there's
always time for that if by some slim chance (ha!) this Broadway star thing doesn't work
out. Yours, Amy Gardingell.
MADGE
Dear Bettina, I just got a letter from Amy Gardingell. She asked about you. How is
school for you? I'm loving Mount Holyoke. I have a couple of classes with Bitsy Collins.
She says you and she were at horse-riding camp and at Lanceford Academy? She sends
her regrets that your father wasn't re-elected to Congress. Do you see him more often
than you used to, when he was in Washington all the time? Well, I'll keep this short. Let
me know how you're doing! Madge Askworth.
BETTINA
Dear Johnny, word has gotten back to me about rumors you're spreading. It's just the
same as when we were fourteen and you said you had nearly gone all the way with me
over the summer. You knew that was a lie. And now you're telling the same lie, only
saying I went all the way. I have enough of a reputation already with my father a failed
congressman and my mother the biggest feminist in Wilbraham. So cut it out! You treat
me so nice when we're together and act the perfect gentleman (when I make you). Why
Mash Notes
19
do you have to build yourself up as this big stud at the expense of my reputation? I have
feelings, you know. I should just cut you off altogether and have nothing to do with you.
There are plenty of other guys here at UMass, you know, and there's one at Amherst
College who told my roommate he'd like to meet me. So bug off, Sturges. It's over.
Signed…
(BETTINA goes to sign the letter, but instead crumples it
up. Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 20
(August, 1971. The women are 18 or 19
years old.)
AMY
(opening and reading a letter)
Dear Amy, Bettina never returned my letter during our freshman year at college, but I saw
her over the weekend. I thought I'd catch you up on news from Wilbraham, Mass. The
big town news, of course, is that we're now home to Wilbraham and Monson Academy.
Monson Academy merged with Wilbraham and moved its operation here. I don't know
how much difference it will make, especially to public school kids like you and me, but
that's the biggest news. More new faces in town, anyhow! Bettina said she had started
going with a guy from Amherst College just before the school year ended, but he's back
home in Ohio now. Her father is back in Washington, working as a lobbyist, she says,
and her mother is big into N.O.W. She's the president or vice president of the local
chapter. I think your mother and Mrs. Chatsworth were involved on opposite sides of
some picket line, so you may have heard that already. Bettina says her mother is
“hosting” a New York City women's organizer for the summer, and the implication I read
into that is that there's more going on in the bedroom than in the boardroom. The second
biggest news is the draft lottery held last week. Johnny Sturges' birthday is January 25th,
and that's number two in the lottery. It's almost certain that he'll be drafted. And after
that, of course, it's Vietnam. He seemed really down about it. He and Bettina had gone
to a movie together, and it was after that I ran into them. He ducked away after a few
minutes and I kept on talking to Bettina. That's when she told me about the other guy
from Amherst College. Johnny kissed her on the cheek when he left, so I'm not sure
what, if anything, romantic is going on there. My love life is absolutely zip. What about
yours? Get any more auditions? Any paying acting jobs? Your friend, Madge.
(putting the letter aside and writing one of her own)
Dear Madge, you asked about my love life. Does losing my virginity count?
(AMY considers her letter for a moment, then crumples it
up. Blackout.)
Mash Notes
20
ACT I
Scene 21
(January, 1972. The women are 19 years
old.)
BETTINA
Dear Johnny, I imagine basic training must have been tough. I'm glad you got leave for
New Year's Eve and got to experience Times Square. I only wish you had been able to
make it back to Massachusetts. Everyone at school misses you. Madge Askworth from
high school asked about you too. Did you know Amy Gardingell is living in New York?
Yours, Bettina.
AMY
Dear Amy, thanks for New Year's Eve! Sorry if all the drinking and carousing got out of
hand. I'm not usually like that, I promise. I leave tomorrow for two months of advanced
training. After that, who knows? Vietnam? Wish me luck! Johnny Sturges.
MADGE
Dear Nana, thank you, thank you, thank you. I never expected to be able to write you
from France! It was a little bit of a struggle, but I managed to wheedle my way into a
foreign study program through Dartmouth College that will give me class credit when I
return. Their terms don't quite match up with Mount Holyoke's, so it might complicate
things on my return, but I am having a wonderful time. Winter isn't the best season for
visiting Europe, I suppose, but I don't care. I'm in heaven! Thanks for the plane ticket
and the spending money, Nana. You are the best! Love, Madge.
(Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 22
(Late March, 1972. The women are 19 or 20
years old.)
BETTINA & AMY
(in unison, reading typed letters, and possibly joined in by
MADGE for the proper pronunciation of French words)
Dear friends, sorry for the mimeographed letter. It's going to cost me an arm and a leg to
mail it to the states! Well, anyhow, I'm here in Strasbourg, France, on a study abroad
program through Dartmouth College with an alliance to Mount Holyoke. It's all language
and humanities, so it might set me behind on my quest for a science major and medical
school, but the cultural advantages were something I couldn't pass up. Alsace is a region
Mash Notes
21
of Europe west of the Rhine River that has passed between Germany and France through
the years. The Alsatian dialect is actually a dialect of German, but all the classes and
family life are in French. The only Alsatian I've heard is from the grandmother of the
family I'm living with. We had a holiday dinner with her for Passover. No, they're not
Jewish and neither am I, but the Dartmouth student I replaced was, so it happened
anyhow. It was really more of an Easter dinner a week early. We had choucroute garnie,
which is sauerkraut with sausage, and a tarte flambée from a nearby restaurant, which is
like a pizza topped with white cheese, bacon, and onions instead of tomato sauce and
pizza fixings. French cooking is good, except for the aspics (yuck – meats in gelatin) and
the steak tartare (raw meat with raw egg and capers!) that I tried to choke down, but
ended up mostly balling up in my napkin. I'm getting fluent in French. I realize now
what horrible accents our American-born French teachers had in school. I'm taking lots
of pictures (wonderful medieval architecture in Strasbourg), and I'll show them to you
when I get home. I'm heading to Paris for Easter break, and I'll bring pictures of that too.
Vive la France! Madge Askworth.
MADGE
Dear Amy, I got a sort of garbled phone message from you. (At least I think it was you;
the message was from “Aimée.”) It must have cost you a fortune to call France. I'm sorry
I wasn't in. My French “mother” did the best to write down the message, but I'm not quite
clear about things. Are you sure? Do you know who? Do you know what you're going
to do? And how in the world did you find out the phone number of my host family? I'm
enclosing this with a mimeographed letter I'm sending to the entire world. I'm enjoying
Strasbourg. I hope things work out for you, whatever you decide. I wish I could offer
you more support. Know that I'm thinking about you. Yours, Madge.
(Blackout.)
ACT I
Scene 23
(April, 1972. The women are 19 or 20 years
old. BETTINA is writing and folding a
series of notes, an action she continues
throughout the scene, referring to an address
book to address the envelopes.)
BETTINA
Dear Grandie, guess what? I'm engaged! Details to follow. Love, Bettina.
MADGE
Dear Amy, I'm writing this on the train back from Paris, so please excuse any shakiness.
The Louvre was wonderful! I saw all the sights and felt like such a tourist, with my
camera around my neck the whole time. I stayed in a youth hostel where there were
Mash Notes
22
people from all over Europe, the U.S., and even India. One girl was from NYU! My
mother sent me a letter that was waiting for me there. She said you were in town for
Easter. Did you tell your parents? If so, how did it go? She also ran into Johnny Sturges,
at Stowell's Jewelers. He was back for a few days after basic and advanced training. Did
you run into him too? It seems we're all flying apart in different directions. Let's promise
to keep in touch, though. Let me know how things go! Your friend and supporter,
Madge.
AMY
Dear Johnny, guess what? I'm pregnant. Question mark, question mark, question mark.
Amy.
(Blackout.)
END OF ACT I
Mash Notes
23
ACT II
Scene 1
(June, 1972. The women are 19 or 20 years
old.)
BETTINA
Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Chatsworth invite you to the wedding of their daughter, Bettina
Louise, to Pfc. John Alexander Sturges on Monday, Columbus Day, October 9, 1972 at 2
PM. Ceremony to be held at Wilbraham United Church, 500 Main Street, Wilbraham,
Massachusetts. Reception to follow in the fellowship hall.
MADGE
(overlapping, starting when BETTINA is about halfway
through)
Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Chatsworth invite you to the wedding of their daughter, Bettina
Louise, to Pfc. John Alexander Sturges on Monday, Columbus Day, October 9, 1972 at 2
PM. Ceremony to be held at Wilbraham United Church, 500 Main Street, Wilbraham,
Massachusetts. Reception to follow in the fellowship hall.
(taking out a piece of paper and writing)
Dear Amy, I thought I'd enclose this. My parents got it and are declining, since they don't
attend weddings at any church but their own. (My new stepfather worked on
Congressman Chatsworth's last campaign, but they don't socialize.) I know you carried a
torch for Johnny in high school, but now he's off the market and off to Vietnam the day
after the wedding. I'm sending my best wishes to Bettina. (It's “best wishes” to the bride
and “congratulations” to the groom. Go figure.) How are you doing? You haven't really
explained things to me. Did I get things mixed up in the message I got in France? I'm
back home now – actually my new stepfather's place, in the guest room – and it's back to
Mount Holyoke at the end of the summer. I've got a summer job at the pharmacy.
Something science-related after my months of cultural broadening in la belle France.
Write me! Your friend, Madge.
(MADGE places the wedding announcement on AMY's
desk. AMY starts to read it.)
AMY
Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Chatsworth invite you to the wedding of their daughter, Bettina
Louise, to Pfc…
(putting the announcement aside and taking out a piece of
paper to write on.)
Ms. Amy Elizabeth Gardingell is proud to announce the abortion of her child by Pfc. John
Alexander Sturges on Tuesday, May 9, 1972 at 10:45 AM. The ceremony was performed
at an on-demand clinic in Brooklyn, New York, address better forgotten. Reception to
follow in limbo for the soul of the unborn baby boy.
Mash Notes
24
(AMY crumples the piece of paper she has written on.)
MADGE
Dear Bettina, best wishes on your engagement and upcoming nuptials! Johnny had a
crush on you all the way back in elementary school. He dated other girls, but it seems he
always came back to you. And now it's going to be permanent! I'm so pleased for you.
Once again, best wishes! Yours, Madge Askworth.
(Blackout.)
ACT II
Scene 2
(December, 1972. The women are 20 years
old.)
AMY
(reading)
Dear Gramma, thanks for the money. One of my roommates moved out last month, so it
will help towards the rent. I haven't had any continuing work in the theatre, but I still
audition and I still waitress full time. I wish I could have seen you at Christmastime, but
there was no money for me to travel to Massachusetts. I did get to skate under the big
tree at Rockefeller Center (a guy's treat, of course). Best wishes for 1973! Love, Amy.
(AMY puts the letter aside.)
MADGE
(reading)
Nana, thank you for the fudge. I thank you, but my waistline doesn't! You probably
intended me to take some back to school, but that, I'm afraid, isn't going to happen.
Yummy! It was sweet of you to have handmade Christmas gifts this year. Dad says your
arthritis is getting worse, so I'm sure it wasn't easy for you to knit Dad's scarf or knead
that fudge. Dad says you may be moving to a smaller place that will be easier for you to
manage in. If you do, I hope it's someplace closer, where I can come visit you from time
to time. You were always my favorite grandparent! Love, your granddaughter Madge.
(MADGE puts the letter aside.)
BETTINA
(reading)
Dear Grandie, thanks for your invitation. My skiing trip to Vermont has been canceled,
though, so I won't be heading up to Brattleboro. Thanks for the ski outfit for Christmas,
anyhow. It will be very stylish during any cold snap we have this winter! I head back to
UMass soon after missing last semester. It seems prudent at this juncture, my parents say,
Mash Notes
25
to keep up with my education. Your granddaughter, Bettina. P.S. My best wishes for a
wonderful 1973!
(BETTINA puts the letter aside.)
MADGE
(writing)
Dear Amy, what is going on? You don't answer my letters. I saw your mother at the mall
over Christmas, and she said you weren't coming home this year. Is money that tight?
Joey and Tommy were with her – reluctantly, it seems – and they both seem like typical
sullen teenagers. They didn't seem to care whether or not you came home. Your mother
seemed a little frazzled. Maybe it was just the frenzy of last-minute holiday shopping.
She didn't mention any “happy arrival,” so I'm wondering what happened with you being
“enceinte.” Your mother gave me what she remembered as your number, but a message
said it was disconnected when I just tried to call. So write me, Amy. You might write
Bettina too. With Johnny M.I.A. in Vietnam, she could use some support from her old
friends. Best wishes for 1973, Madge. P.S. Write me!
(Blackout.)
ACT II
Scene 3
(May, 1974. The women are 21 or 22 years
old.)
AMY
Dear Madge, I write to you from Detroit on the national tour of A Little Night Music. I'm
an assistant stage manager, so I don't get to go onstage, but it's an actual theatre job! A
friend of a friend of a friend got it for me, although I wasn't really qualified for backstage
work, but I'm learning the ropes. I hope this letter gets to you at Mount Holyoke before
graduation. Congratulations on your biology degree. Have you decided where to go for
medical school? The last I heard, it was down to two schools that had accepted you. I've
been on the road since February, so any letters you've written have probably piled up at
my Manhattan apartment. It's sub-let, and the tenant just throws my mail in the closet,
from what I understand. It's challenging, living out of a suitcase, but at least I get to pal
around a little with Margaret Hamilton, the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz,
remember? She plays Madame Armfeldt in this. If you don't know, A Little Night Music
is a musical by this up-and-coming songwriter, Stephen Sondheim. It's all waltzes. I
sometimes sing along backstage during set-up and sound checks, and Jean Simmons, our
star – and yes, from the movie of Guys and Dolls – complimented me on my singing!
She doesn't have much of a voice herself. Margaret Hamilton is a lot more fun. Okay, no
more name-dropping.
Mash Notes
26
AMY (cont'd)
(changing tone)
I'm sorry I haven't written earlier. You probably have given up on me. What has it been
– two years? I started writing back to you a couple of times, but I just crumpled up my
letters. I was so depressed. And yes, I was pregnant. I got rid of it just before you sent
the news of Bettina and Johnny Sturges getting married. That depressed me even more.
I'll explain face-to-face, if we ever get to see one another again. Maybe the tour will be
going through the city you're going to medical school in! You have been such a good
friend to me, Madge, and I've been a big, fat zero to you. Please keep in touch after I
return to New York. (I know, that's pretty ballsy of me to ask you, after the way I haven't
kept in touch with you!) Anyhow, keep well! I'll be on the road for the next six months,
so this is like a note in a bottle, thrown out into the ocean. I hope it washes up on your
seashore. And congratulations on graduation (I assume with highest honors)! Your
schoolyard friend, Amy Gardingell, theatre professional.
(Blackout.)
ACT II
Scene 4
(September, 1974. The women are 22 years
old.)
BETTINA
(proof-reading a letter)
Dear Democratic Supporter, I'm the daughter of former Congressman Edgar Chatsworth,
and I'm asking for your support of the Democratic slate in the upcoming election. I'm a
senior at the University of Massachusetts - Amherst and a Vietnam war widow, and my
major in political science has given me a firm grounding in the history of this nation and
the path we need to blaze for the future. The Democratic party will provide the
leadership we need for 1974 and beyond. Vote Democratic!
(signing the letter)
Sincerely, Bette Sturges.
(BETTINA continues signing letters.)
MADGE
Dear Amy, I assume you won't read this until after your tour ends – in regards to which,
congratulations! – but I figured this might be the last chance I get to write to you before
I'm snowed over with schoolwork. I just arrived at the University of Vermont for medical
school, and I can guarantee that your tour of A Little Night Music will not be going
through this town! Bitsy Collins, my roommate from the last two years of college, is also
up here, going to graduate school. We're sharing a second-floor apartment in the house of
one of the faculty members, a “confirmed bachelorette,” as she puts it. She's involved
Mash Notes
27
with N.O.W. – the National Organization of Women – and with the Women's League, so
the elections are the topic of almost every conversation. (She invites Bitsy and me to
dinner most nights.) Bette Sturges was up last week, I understand, and I heard all sorts of
gossip about her. Gossip I'm not too proud to repeat! Oh, she calls herself “Bette” now,
like the Divine Miss M, and goes by her married name, even though she had only one
night of “wedded bliss,” to put it politely. Her parents ignored her horribly growing up,
starting just before she went to private school, remember? Before that, her mother was
hovering about her all the time, doing her school projects for her and everything. You
know what changed it all? A woman. No, not an affair in Washington for Mr.
Chatsworth, but a liaison with a high school dropout for Mrs. Chatsworth, right in the
middle of Wilbraham. She was that cleaning woman that worked around town until Mrs.
Chatsworth gave her a live-in position. I think she was into drugs and who knows what
else, and Mrs. Chatsworth fell apart when she left for greener pastures. That's when she
started drinking heavily, and I guess she went to Springfield, and even farther afield, to
find other lady companions. She's in N.O.W. too, you know, and apparently the gossip
filtered through the organization all the way up here to Vermont. Well, anyhow, Bette's
father is a lobbyist in Washington and her mother is in N.O.W. and Bette is getting into
politics too. She's campaigning for the Democrats as she finishes up her degree in poly
sci from UMass. Remember how your parents didn't want you to have anything to do
with the Chatsworths because they were – gasp! shock! horrors! – Democrats? And how
upset they were when we got that Irish Mick of a president, JFK? Your mother was
Nixon all the way, but she's kept a pretty low profile in politics recently. Watergate and
resignation will do that to you, I guess. Anyhow, Bette is using her status as a Vietnam
war widow to maximum effect. Can you believe it? Johnny proposed to her on the
rebound, the story goes – probably after he was dumped by one of his many conquests –
and she was a virgin on her wedding night. One time only – okay, one night only – and
she is suddenly a war hero by proxy. Can you imagine if she was impregnated by that
one-time – okay, one-night – encounter? How she'd be using that poor, fatherless baby as
political fodder? Like father, like daughter, I guess. It's sad about Johnny Sturges – his
body never having been found, and all – and I don't think his father is happy about Bette
campaigning. He was Nixon all the way too. Well, I've rambled on enough. Got to put
my nose to the grindstone and make my families proud of me. You're lucky, not having
any step-parents; I've got two! Yours, Madge.
(Blackout.)
ACT II
Scene 5
(January, 1975. The women are 22 or 23
years old. AMY finishes reading the letter
that MADGE just wrote, then goes to write
one of her own.)
Mash Notes
28
AMY
Dear Madge, tour's over and I'm back to waitressing. I've read all your letters. My closet
was stuffed. Thanks for the updates. You asked if I could imagine Bettina being
impregnated by Johnny Sturges on a one-time encounter. Well, yes, I can. That's exactly
what happened to me. New Year's Eve, 1972. Johnny and his army buddies showed up
in town and he had my address somehow. A night on the town, drinking and carousing
with my theatre friends, and Johnny flirting with all the flamboyant guys, and going off
into the bathroom far more often than normal bladder operation would suggest. And
when I mentioned that his behavior indicated he might have certain proclivities, he took
me back to my place and proved he was “all man.” So, yes, I can imagine. And I lost my
virginity to another fellow, an actor, who likewise wanted to prove to himself that
anything he'd done with another man was just a passing fancy. Do they know how to pick
me, or what? So, yes, I can imagine.
(AMY crumples up her letter. Blackout.)
ACT II
Scene 6
(May 9, 1978. The women are 25 or 26
years old.)
MADGE
Dear Amy, congratulations on your onstage role in 13 Rue de l'Amour at Circle in the
Square. Broadway! Do they pronounce the number in the title “thirteen” or “treize?”
Sorry it only ran a couple of months. I always expected your debut on Broadway to be in
a musical, not a Feydeau farce. And I realize standby is not exactly a starring role, but
you got to go on! Congratulations again! What's next? One of these days, we have got
to have that face-to-face meeting we keep promising ourselves! Three years of residency
to go, and then maybe I'll have a bit of breathing room. You never get back to
Wilbraham, do you? I'm only there at the holidays. Your friend and soon-to-be medical
school graduate, almost-Dr. Madge Askworth.
BETTINA
Dear Madge, I was so sorry to hear about the death of your grandmother. I remember you
calling her “Nana” and how much of a hit her fudge always was when you brought some
in to school. Bitsy Collins raved about it to our friends Madeleine and Muffin when she
first became your roommate at UMass. And I understand you two are still roommates? I
have connected with all sorts of people from our mutual past during the last couple of
election cycles. I'm hoping the Democratic National Committee can find a place for me
before Jimmy Carter wins re-election in 1980! Condolences on your grandmother. Keep
in touch! Bette Sturges. P.S. I heard you might have Amy Gardingell's address? That's
one of the few from our high school class I don't have in my files.
Mash Notes
29
AMY
Happy sixth death day, little baby Sturges boy. I think about you every day. Love, your
Mommy.
(Blackout.)
ACT II
SCENE 7
(September, 1980. The women are 28 years
old.)
MADGE & AMY
(in unison)
Save the date! We'll be holding our tenth high school reunion on Friday, November 28th
at Hampden Country Club, starting at 7 PM. Lots of you will be in town to celebrate
Thanksgiving the previous day. For those of you who aren't, please make the special trip
to town to see what we've all been up to in the past decade. How time flies! Your
reunion committee chairperson, Bette Sturges. P.S. Remember to vote on November 4th!
(AMY crumples up the paper she has been reading from,
while MADGE puts hers aside and opens a yearly planner.)
MADGE
(writing in the planner)
November 28th, H.S. Reunion.
(As BETTINA reads, MADGE picks up an identical piece
of paper and peruses it soundlessly at first.)
BETTINA
Save the date! You are soon going to be getting an official invitation to my upcoming
wedding, but I wanted to let you know right away that the wedding is planned for
Saturday, November 29th. That's the day after our ten-year high school reunion, and, like
it, the reception will be held at Hampden Country Club. I wanted you to know just in
case it affects your travel plans.
BETTINA & MADGE
(reading in unison)
My fiancé is Roderick James Henderson of Washington, D.C. Like me, he's the child of a
former congressman, but his father was a congressman for decades, even before Roddy
was born, and he's spent his whole life in D.C. His father lost in the 1978 election. We
met through the Democratic National Committee, where we're both delegates. Following
in our parents' footsteps! Remember to save the date! Yours, Bette Chatsworth Sturges.
Mash Notes
30
MADGE
(writing in the planner)
November 29th, Bette wedding.
(MADGE folds the letter from BETTINA and holds it
while reading another letter, one she has written.)
Dear Amy, did you get this “save the date” letter from Bette? I assume you got the high
school reunion one. I gave her your new address after she hounded me and hounded me
for it. Sorry. That woman will not take “no” for an answer! So, what do you think of
this new development? Not one word about Johnny, you'll notice. She gets two
marriages, and we get none apiece. Let me know how things are going in NYC! Yours,
Madge.
(MADGE folds the two letters together, then slips them
into an envelope she sets on AMY's desk. AMY opens the
envelope, takes out the main letter and glances soundlessly
at it. She then takes out the enclosed note and reads it, only
partially aloud.)
AMY
Save the date! … Saturday, November 29th. Hampden Country Club.
(AMY holds the letter thoughtfully, then sets it aside and
attempts to unwrinkle the high school reunion letter she had
crumpled. Blackout.)
(Blackout.)
ACT II
Scene 8
(Mid-November, 1980. The women are 28
years old.)
BETTINA
(reading and then signing one letter)
Dear Uncle Andrew and Aunt Colleen, thanks for the money. Rest assured that every
penny will be spent wisely. Yours, Bette and Roddy.
(reading and then signing a second letter, sourly)
Dear Congressman Switzer, thanks for the flag pin and the brochure describing the
federal government. It's so educational, and so unlike our other wedding gifts. Sincerely,
Bette and Roddy Henderson. P.S. Wasn't it a pity that Carter lost Massachusetts by just
0.15 percent?
Mash Notes
31
BETTINA (cont'd)
(reading and then signing a third letter)
Dear Madge, thanks for the Crock-Pot. It was so thoughtful of you. We didn't get any
others in Harvest Gold. Sincerely, Bette and Roddy Henderson. P.S. Thanks for your
support at the reunion. It was tough, but Roddy and I have worked through it.
MADGE
Amy (no “dear” about it). How could you? Thought you could skip town and avoid all
consequences, didn't you? Well, I've tracked down your new address on the West Coast.
Your agent is very chatty. I'm headed to Los Angeles early in 1981 for a medical
conference, and we will discuss things in detail and in person. I don't understand you.
Bette is holding her head up high, but you have caused her unnecessary pain. Madge.
(No “yours truly” about it.)
AMY
Dear Gramma, stay tuned to CBS! Your granddaughter is finally making her way in
show business. This move to L.A. is really opening up opportunities to me. (That, and a
little surgery that all the actresses are having out here.) Look for me on an upcoming
episode of M*A*S*H. I play – what else? – an army nurse. It's not a big role, but it pays
good, and there's the possibility of a return performance. Love, Amy.
BETTINA
Dear Daddy, thanks for help in controlling Mummy during the wedding. Her drinking is
really a problem now, isn't it? I know you don't like phone calls with your hearing
problem, and I'm also in thank-you-note-writing mode after the wedding, so I figured I
might as well knock one more out. Thanks for your financial support too. You paid for
my wedding to Johnny, and you didn't need to pitch in for this one. You are just too good
to me. Love, Bette.
(Blackout.)
ACT II
Scene 9
(Late December, 1980. The women are 28
years old.)
AMY
(reading a letter she has written)
Dear Joey, sorry that you couldn't make it out to L.A. with Mom and Tommy. We had a
fabulous Christmas! I hope Daddy visited you that week. I couldn't think of anything to
send you before Christmas, except that card. I figured paper was about the only safe thing
to send. So enclosed you will find the title page of the M*A*S*H script I appeared in. It's
signed by all the stars. Isn't Loretta Swit's autograph a hoot, with that oversized “S?”
They're all pretty legible, I think. Someone who's been with the show a long time said the
Mash Notes
32
only one with a hard-to-read signature was Larry Linville, and he left after his initial fiveyear contract was up. I wish I could get a five-year contract! Try to enjoy 1981! Your
sis, Amy.
AMY (cont'd)
(adding a P.S. to the letter)
P.S. Don't take that “five-year contract” comment as a crack. I didn't realize how it
might sound until I read it over.
MADGE
(reading over a note she has written)
Bitsy, I missed you over the holidays. I'll bet you didn't miss the sub-zero temperatures
we had on Christmas Day, though! I'm glad you're spending an extra week in the
Caribbean with your folks, but it means I won't see you before I leave for my conference
in sunny southern California. It will be nearly a month that we've been apart! You'll find
this on your pillow. I wish it could caress your face as sweetly as I long to. Love, Madge.
BETTINA
(reading over a letter she has written)
Daddy, Mummy brought us a bottle of Dewar's for Christmas from Grandie. Roddy went
to take a drink from it and noted the seal wasn't on quite right. And when he took a sip,
he said it had been watered down. I know Grandie doesn't drink, and it's perfectly
reasonable, since she can't get out anymore, that she would re-gift us with a bottle
someone had given her. But she wouldn't open the bottle, drink some, and refill it with
water to appear untouched. That's something Mummy would do. Her alcohol problem is
out of control! I know her goings-on harmed your political career in Massachusetts, and I
don't intend to have them affect mine. Please consider sending her to a clinic to dry out.
And be aware that Roddy and I have discussed it, and we're planning to move to D.C. as
soon as he can find an opening there. I know you want someone keeping an eye on Mom
in Wilbraham, and the rent-free stay has been great, but I can't put up with it anymore.
She's been kicked out of N.O.W. for her shenanigans – you know the kind I'm talking
about, and it must have been pretty brazen for that bunch of feminists to be offended –
and all she does is sit around and drink all day. It has to stop! I'm not her caretaker. Hire
her one, or come back and stay in Wilbraham yourself. I know you don't like
confrontation, so I'm not saying this to your face or over the phone. Just take care of it.
Please, Daddy. Love, Bette.
(BETTINA takes an envelope, ponders a moment, and then
puts the letter in the envelope and seals it. Blackout.)
Mash Notes
33
ACT II
Scene 10
(Mid-January, 1981. The women are 28 or
29 years old. Amy seems unnaturally
energetic and upbeat during this scene.)
AMY
Dear Gramma, keep that dial tuned to CBS! I'm on a second episode of M*A*S*H. It
filmed right after Mom and Tommy left town. I missed Daddy, but I'm glad you had him
for Christmas if we couldn't. This episode I expect will air in April. I play the same army
nurse, and I even have a line this time! One of your grandkids is making you proud! I'm
getting all sorts of visits from people from my past, now that I'm making a name in
Hollywood. Get over that cold, and come visit me too! Love, Amy. P.S. I hope we all
have a terrific 1981!
BETTINA
(reading over a mimeographed letter)
Dear Class of 1970, it is with deep regret that I tender my resignation as your class
secretary. It's been a good run, and I hope all of you who attended our tenth class reunion
had a good time. I leave you with as up-to-date a list of our classmates' addresses and
phone numbers as we've ever had. And that brings me to the reason for my decision to
resign. My new husband and I are planning a move to our nation's capital, and I believe
deeply that you should have a class secretary who resides in town. I trust I'm not leaving
you in the lurch, with several years to go before our next reunion! Yours truly, Bette
Sturges Henderson, nee Bettina Chatsworth.
MADGE
Dear Bette, I probably shouldn't be writing this letter. I know it will cause you pain. But
I don't think I'd have the courage to say these things to you face-to-face. And they need to
be said. You've had some rough times in the past year, and I think you are owed some
explanations. You really are owed the explanations by the people who caused you the
rough times, but that isn't going to happen. Stop reading now and destroy this letter if
you don't want to know what I've learned about Amy Gardingell and about your mother.
AMY
Dear Loretta, thanks so much for your suggestion on the reading of my line in M*A*S*H.
It really made a difference, and the director loved it! I guess it's true what they say, that
the bigger the star, the nicer they are. I hope to work with you on another episode very
soon! Sincerely, Amy Gardingell (“Nurse Pepperidge”).
MADGE
You probably know more about your mother in most ways than I do. She is, after all,
your mother. And I'm sure rumors and innuendoes have informed you of many of her
activities, if she hasn't told you herself. But after she was kicked out of N.O.W., she
Mash Notes
34
visited the professor I rented a room from in Burlington and made some boozy
confessions to her that you probably don't know about. Did you know that your Grandie
sexually abused her as a child? It wasn't really sexual in nature, I guess, but more
exploratory. She had been taught that a lady doesn't look down there at all, and your
mother's was the first she felt she had permission to look at. And she looked and bathed
and examined all through your mother's childhood, mostly under the guise of making sure
that she didn't have any infections and was properly cleaned. And when your mother did
develop a problem in puberty – from overly complete cleansing, I guess you'd say – the
nurse who examined her sensed what was going on. The nurse was a lesbian, and said
she'd have to give your mother regular examinations. And her examinations become less
clinical and more sexual with each visit. It took a while for your Grandie to catch on, and
when she did, she put a stop to it. But your mother's sexual future was set, with an
obsession for forbidden female relationships. And yet she never touched you. She made
it clear to the professor – what her mother had done to her she would never do to you.
Whatever she did – whatever her obsessions drove her to do – she kept you out of it. She
said she sublimated her so-called “unnatural” feelings for several years after your birth.
And I remember how much she doted on you in elementary school. And then it changed.
But she never wanted anything but the best for you, she said. That's what she told the
professor. And she drew away from you as you approached adolescence simply to deny
herself the opportunity of doing anything to you she knew she must never do. And it
seems that drove her in the direction of doing those things with others; even, I think, the
professor. So I thought you should know. Your mother has problems. That you know.
But you need to know she pulled away from you because she loved you, and wanted to
protect you from herself. She protected you, and destroyed herself. I thought you should
know. And now for Amy and her behavior.
AMY
Dear Mr. Alda (or can I call you “Alan?”), I wanted to personally express to you my sheer
joy in having filmed a scene with you. You and the rest of the cast of M*A*S*H are
absolutely incredible, both in talent and in professionalism. I hope our paths meet again
soon at Mobile Army Surgical Hospital 4077! Sincerely, Amy Gardingell (“Nurse
Pepperidge”).
MADGE
I've been at a medical conference in L.A. I've kept in contact with Amy over the years, as
you know, and I went to see her. She had dropped hints of having been pregnant, but I
didn't get the full story until now. Brace yourself. I know her behavior at your wedding
reception was unforgivable, but there is an explanation. Not a good one, perhaps, but at
least an explanation.
(The time sequence overlaps a little now as BETTINA
opens a letter, the one MADGE is currently reading from.)
BETTINA
Oh, a letter from Madge.
Mash Notes
35
(BETTINA scans the letter and reacts to its news, until she
eventually catches up with MADGE's narration of the
letter.)
AMY
Oscar, thank you, thank you, thank you for the repeat role on M*A*S*H. You are the best
agent ever! Someone told me you sometimes set up dates between your clients to get a
little buzz going on in the tabloids. Any chance of that for me? I know you had a client
on Charlie's Angels at Fox Studios when I did my last episode of M*A*S*H there, and we
remembered each other from your party last summer. I think he likes me. He's just
opened in a movie with a lot of buzz. You know who I mean. So can you set up a date?
Please? Amy Gardingell, your rising young star.
MADGE
Remember that New Year's Eve Johnny spent in New York on leave? He and Amy got
together and – well, there's no easy way to put this – he impregnated her. And then
Johnny married you. She was upset, as you can imagine, and got an abortion. But it
appears she never really got over it. She'd had a crush on Johnny ever since elementary
school, but he always seemed to choose you over her. And when she heard about your
marriage to Roddy coming on the heels of the reunion, she came up with a plan. A
stupid, stupid plan, and you know how it turned out. She crashed his bachelor party, did
some inappropriate things, and threw it in your face when she crashed your reception.
But she has a drug problem, Bette. I didn't realize it until I visited her here. Cocaine is as
common out here as snow in the winter in Massachusetts. She did three lines during my
visit with her, and it makes her manic and jittery and almost out of control. It's no
excuse, and certainly nothing I approve of, but it's all part of the explanation. She thought
it would be somehow fitting if both your husbands had experienced her before
experiencing you.
AMY
Madge, I am in the tabloids! Page one! That's me on the arm of the hottest upcoming
star in Hollywood. Fresh out of TV and onto the silver screen, and maybe he'll take me
with him. This could be the start of something big. It was great seeing you! I'll stay in
touch. Amy.
(BETTINA has caught up with MADGE and speaks some
of the following speech in unison with her.)
MADGE
She told me other things about Johnny, but I won't burden you with them. Keep him in
your memory just the way he has been all these years. Let Amy take full responsibility
for his infidelity to you. Her subsequent actions have shown that her longstanding
jealousy of you caused her to go a little off the deep end. I apologize for my part in it – I
told her about you getting married. Please forgive me for that. And please forgive me for
Mash Notes
36
writing you this letter, if it has shocked or disturbed you in any way. I only have your
best interests at heart. Your friend, now and always, Madge Askworth.
(MADGE puts the letter aside as BETTINA refers back to
the start of it.)
BETTINA
“Did you know that your Grandie sexually abused her as a child?”
(BETTINA reads another line from later in the letter.)
“She protected you, and destroyed herself.”
(BETTINA turns to the end of the letter and speaks
caustically.)
“I only have your best interests at heart.”
(BETTINA puts the letter aside, a hard expression on her
face. We may see AMY spilling out a line of white powder
from a vial. Blackout.)
ACT II
Scene 11
(December, 1982. The women are 30 years
old.)
MADGE
(reading from a form letter she has produced)
Merry Christmas 1982 from Santa Barbara. Yes, after medical school in Vermont and
residency in Boston, I've switched coasts. I'm happily ensconced in a hacienda here in
Santa Barbara, a couple of hours northwest of Los Angeles. The hospital is offering me
lots of opportunities, and my cultural life is full too, with a close friend deeply involved
in the arts scene here. It's a good life! Dr. Madge Askworth. P.S. Happy New Year!
BETTINA
(reading from a photo card)
Yes, that's me, five months and already showing. You can tell from Roddy's smile how
pleased he is at this new addition we're expecting just about Easter in 1983. Our
townhouse in Georgetown is just barely big enough for one more. Roddy is working with
the Democratic National Committee, and I do part-time work with the League of Women
Voters, winding down my work career to be a full-time Mom next year. We wish you all
the happiest of Christmases and the most prosperous of New Years. Bette and Roddy
Henderson.
Mash Notes
37
AMY
(reading eagerly from a fan magazine)
“Secret marriage! What hot star and his screen-worthy new wife have been seen all about
town, canoodling and kissing in public? It's true young love. He's been the heart throb of
so many of you since his blockbuster movie came out this summer, but now it seems his
heart throbs only for her. We hear they're looking in Malibu for a residence to return to
after a honeymoon in the south of France.”
(picking up a French phrase book)
“Bonjour. Comment ça va? Bien, merci. Et vous?”
(Blackout.)
ACT II
Scene 12
(December, 1983. The women are 31 years
old.)
MADGE
(reading from a form letter she has produced)
Merry Christmas 1983! Life is still busy here in Santa Barbara, with an arts festival
chairmanship taking up all my time when I'm not at the hospital. And there's a new
addition to my life – Edgar. He's the love of my life. See his picture?
(MADGE shows the picture of a dog)
He's a mutt, but he's all mine. It's a good life! Dr. Madge Askworth. P.S. Happy New
Year!
BETTINA
Dear Gran-Gran and Gram-Pop, thank you so much for the adorable onesie and the
stroller. It's just what I needed for my parents to slip me into for strolls around the block,
once the weather gets warmer. I'm sorry that Grandie's turn for the worse kept you away
from D.C. at Christmas. My Daddy says he'll attend the funeral while Mommy stays
home and takes care of me. Love, Eric Chatsworth Henderson. P.S. Mommy helped me
write this!
AMY
Dear Joey, congratulations on your early release. It's great about your good behavior, but
I can't recommend you come out to L.A. to look for work in the movies. There's a lot of
drugs associated with the industry, as I know from personal experience. Given your
history with using and selling, I don't think you'd be able to resist long. And you don't
want a criminal record in two states. Stay in Massachusetts. Dad said he'll help you get
work with the warehouse crew. Try that for a while and get your life on track again
instead of running off somewhere to look for an easy buck. Happy New Year, Amy.
Mash Notes
38
AMY (cont'd)
(AMY takes out a blank sheet of paper and starts to write
on it.)
Dear Bettina…
(AMY pauses for a moment, then crumples the piece of
paper. Blackout.)
ACT II
Scene 13
(February, 1987. The women are 34 or 35
years old.)
MADGE
Bitsy, I'm sorry. It was a one-time thing. She's a friend's mother and I met her at her
hotel outside LAX as she was on her way the next day to Rancho Mirage and the Betty
Ford Center. You may have heard Professor Skillens and me gossiping about her back in
Burlington. She's the state representative's wife from Wilbraham who was kicked out of
N.O.W. for fondling the adolescent daughters of members. I assure you she made the
first move. You had been out in Tucson on that art installation for weeks, and I felt
neglected. She complimented me. And things just happened. I guess I'd always had a
little crush on her from childhood. It didn't mean anything, Bitsy; just something
lingering from my past that is now out of my system. Come back. I would have told you
if Lorraine and Zelda hadn't been staying at the same hotel and gotten on the grapevine
immediately to spread the word. Come back. Edgar misses you! And so do I. Love,
Madge.
AMY
(reading sadly from a fan magazine)
“This from Amy Gardingell, the recent widow: 'Thanks to you all for your flowers and
messages of condolence. Stanning was a wonderful actor, and I'm sure the world misses
him almost as much as I do.'” Nice picture of me, all in black.
(turning a couple of pages and changing to a harder tone)
And two pages later: “What recently deceased hunky celebrity led a dark secret life that
finally caught up with him? No, it's not Rock Hudson and it's not Liberace, although the
similarities in lifestyle have had Hollywood buzzing. The results of the autopsy requested
by his widow have not been released, and we suspect that confirms what all the rumors
have been saying.”
(AMY holds up an unopened envelope and reads the
writing on it.)
“Lab results for Amy Gardingell.”
(AMY doesn't open the envelope. She may pour herself a
Mash Notes
39
hefty drink from a liquor bottle that will disappear for the
next scene. Blackout.)
ACT II
Scene 14
(May, 1987. The women are 34 or 35 years
old.)
BETTINA
Dear Madge, I'm sorry it's been so long with just impersonal Christmas notes passed
between us. What has it been – six years? – since you sent that letter with all the
gossip…
(BETTINA crosses out a word.)
…with all your insights about my mother and Amy. I have to say it threw me for a loop.
In my family, it's always been stiff upper lip and sweeping things under the rug, so I can't
say I welcomed your insights. I'm back in Wilbraham now, after my father's death, and
caring for my mother, who has been diagnosed with a degenerative neurological disease
and has recently become wheelchair-bound. With that and Roddy still in D.C. and my
four-year-old and another one on the way, I've got my hands full. But my mother has
confirmed a lot of what you wrote in your letter. The first thing we did after Daddy died
was to send her for a stint to dry out at the Betty Ford Center. She came back resolved to
make amends, just like they do in Alcoholics Anonymous, and I'm following her lead
here. There's no call for me to be angry with you, when you were just trying to be a good
friend to me. I appreciate it, Madge; I do. It's just taken me six years to see it. I hope you
and Bitsy and Edgar are doing well out there in Santa Barbara. My mother said she called
you at the start of her recent stint out there, since you're a medical professional, and she
says you were very nice to her. So thanks for that too. I'm enclosing a photo of Eric, who
just turned four. He can't wait for summer to start, since I've promised him I'll teach him
how to swim in his Gran-Gran's pool. With sincere good wishes, Bette Henderson.
ACT II
Scene 15
(December, 1987. The women are 34 or 35
years old.)
MADGE
(rather morosely reading from a photo form letter she has
produced)
Holiday greetings 1987 from Dr. Madge Askworth. The photo is of my office and
residence in Santa Barbara, where I now have a private practice.
Mash Notes
40
MADGE (cont'd)
(adding a handwritten note)
Dear Amy, it's lonely here. Edgar got into a neighbor's trash after Thanksgiving and
choked on a turkey bone, so it's just me here now. Come visit if you get a chance. It's
been too long, and we're both alone now. Yours, Madge.
BETTINA
(reading from a form letter she has produced)
Merry Christmas to all! This will be brief. Roddy and I are now living in Wilbraham,
providing care to my mother, who can no longer cope on her own. Baby number two is
about to pop any day now, and Eric is as excited as can be about the prospect of a little
brother or sister. Roddy is hoping for a girl, to even things out, but I'll be happy if it's
another boy. Roddy has started a small law practice here and is getting the lay of the land
before dipping his foot in politics in a new state. That's about it. I hope you're doing
well! Bette Henderson for the whole Henderson family.
AMY
(taking out a blank sheet of paper and starting to write on it)
Dear Bettina…
(AMY pauses for a moment, then crumples the piece of
paper. She takes out another piece of paper and writes on
it.)
Dear Madge, thanks for your card and your note. Let's get together after New Year's. We
have a lot to talk about. Can you come to my place in Malibu? It will probably be your
last chance to visit here before it gets foreclosed on. Amy.
(Blackout. During the blackout, MADGE leaves the stage.)
ACT II
Scene 16
(February, 1988. The women are 35 or 36
years old.)
BETTINA
(reading a form letter)
Dear Class of 1970, it is with a sad heart that I report the news of the first death in our
graduating class. We have had losses before – Eddie Levin, who perished in a car crash
in our junior year, and my first husband, Johnny Sturges, who left us after freshman year
and graduated from Wilbraham Academy before being killed in Vietnam – but I am now
reporting the death of a 1970 graduate. It's Dr. Madge Askworth, who was a physician
practicing in Santa Barbara, California. She perished in a house fire of suspicious origin
in late January. Madge never married. Our hearts go out to her parents and step-parents
and step-siblings. Your class secretary, Bette Henderson.
Mash Notes
41
AMY
(reviewing a letter she has written)
Dear Bettina, I know you go by “Bette” now, but you'll always be Bettina to me. I've
tried to write this letter many times, but up until now I could never find the courage to
complete it or send it. I spent several hours with Madge recently, before the fire, and I
understand she tried to give you the apologies I've owed you for years. I can't justify my
actions towards you. There's no logical explanation. It was part jealousy of your family
and its position in society and Johnny's favoring you, and part my parents' antagonism to
your father's politics, and part sheer emotional turmoil and substance abuse problems. I
apologize deeply and sincerely for seducing Roddy and ruining your reception. That was
insanity. I lost my virginity to a gay man. I became pregnant by a gay man. And later, I
married a gay man. I needed to exact some revenge, and in my twisted thought patterns, I
exacted that revenge on you. I went into a treatment program at the Betty Ford Center
soon after I got married, and that's when I first tried to write you, to make what amends I
could. I didn't have the courage. I was so ashamed. But at least I was off drugs. And
then Stanning died of AIDS, and I couldn't stand to think of the possibility that he might
have infected me, and I started to drink. Of course, he hadn't; he had barely touched me
since the honeymoon. But I kept on drinking. There were bills to pay, and I had no real
work. Stanning left me a Malibu mansion and a fleet of sports cars, purchased based on
his presumed income after two hit movies, but there was no income to speak of after that.
I sold things to pay for the booze; I took roles in movies I'm not proud to have been a part
of. But I finally came to my senses and checked into the Betty Ford Center again to dry
out. Your mother was there at the same time last year, and I vowed to make amends to
you once I got out. But I still didn't have the courage. It wasn't until Madge's death that I
am sitting down with pen and paper and writing this letter. Madge had been the
connection between us all these years, passing information to me about you and to you
about me. I considered her a busybody sometimes, but she was my one true connection to
the happy parts of my childhood. And I miss her now. I could tell she was depressed
when we talked last month. After her dog Edgar died, she was all alone, and her private
practice took her away from whatever informal support system she had at the hospital. I
guess Bitsy left Madge about that time, and Madge beat herself up about being totally at
fault, about betraying her. You know she and Bitsy were lovers, don't you? With the
doings at boarding schools I've heard about, I doubt it surprises you. She felt she had
betrayed you too, by telling me about your wedding and God knows what else. And then
the fire. I know it hasn't officially been ruled a suicide, but Madge talked to me about
seeing herself in the fires of hell as judgment for her driving people away. And she didn't
do that, she brought people together all her life, up until the end. And now, with Madge
gone, I can't fool myself that she'd somehow be both a buffer and a conduit between us.
It's up to us now to forge a relationship on our own; to communicate directly, if you want
to correspond. My place in Malibu is tied up in foreclosure, and I don't know what I'll do
or where I'll go next. Madge talked about perishing in the fires of hell; I see more solace
in being covered over by the waves of the gently rolling sea just steps from my front door.
But maybe I'll move somewhere and open a drama school. My Hollywood credits have
got to count for something somewhere. But don't worry; I won't return to Wilbraham. I
Mash Notes
42
imagine you and Roddy will be heavily involved in local or state or national politics
before long, and you don't need me around as a reminder of past scandals. But can we at
least be pen-pals now? I'll keep you up-to-date on any changes in my address. After all,
you're once again the class secretary! Your childhood friend (and current friend?), Amy
Gardingell.
(AMY seals the letter in an envelope and then rises and
brings the letter across the stage to BETTINA. AMY hands
the letter to BETTINA, who takes it with a gracious smile.
AMY smiles back at BETTINA, then exits the stage.
BETTINA rises, holding a single rose, and moves to
MADGE's desk, leaving the rose there before exiting
herself. Lights fade, leaving a spotlight on the rose before a
full blackout occurs.)
END OF PLAY