(GK: Garrison Keillor, SS: Sue Scott, TK: Tom Keith, TR: Tim Russell, RD: Rich Dworsky, FP: Faith Prince, WB: Walter Bobbie)
(THEME)
TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but high above the busy streets, on the twelfth floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions --- Guy Noir, Private Eye --- (THEME UP AND OUT)
GK: It was one of those December days in St. Paul when you realize that there's nothing standing between you and the Arctic Circle but some barns and silos. It was cold and winter hadn't even gotten warmed up yet, it was still in rehearsal. I'd been hoping to go to New York City and escape from Christmas at my sister Georgina's but I couldn't seem to come up with a client to pay for it and just then----(KNOCKS ON DOOR)--- Yeah? Who's there?
FP (OTHER SIDE OF DOOR): I'm looking for a Guy Noir.
GK: You're not fundraising for public radio, are you?
FP (OTHER SIDE OF DOOR): No, I'm not.
GK: Are you sure? FP (OTHER SIDE OF DOOR): Positive.
GK: Let me hear you say---"If you value the programming we bring you day in and day out...."
FP (OTHER SIDE OF DOOR): If you value the ---- what? The pudding?
GK: Okay. Come on in. (OPENS DOOR) Oh my. You're not in public radio at all, are you. (BREATHY SAX, AS FOOTSTEPS APPROACH SLOWLY) She was a tall woman and it took a long time to look at her and it was worth the effort. I looked at her twice, just to make sure I didn't miss anything. (FOOTSTEPS) What can I do for you, ma'am?
FP: I need a private detective, Mr. Noir?
GK: New York. Right?
FP: How could you tell?
GK: I can tell from the very slight scratches on the insteps of your shoes which you get from climbing in and out of taxicabs. That and the Zabar's shopping bag.
FP: My name is Constance Duke, Mr. Noir.
GK: The Constance Duke? The editor of Beau Monde magazine? The fashion arbiter for New York cafe society?
FP: Yes. That's me. (SHE WALKS ACROSS THE ROOM AND SITS DOWN) Do you mind if I smoke a cigarette?
GK: Not at all, Miss Duke. Here. (LIGHTER)
FP: (SHE TAKES A DRAG AND EXHALES) Thanks.
GK: So what brings you out to the Midwest, Miss Duke. Don't tell me bib overalls are the next new thing----
FP: I left New York, because I've been sickened by the obsessive struggle for money and fame and parking space. You struggle and connive and maneuver and you get the big corner office and every designer in New York is at your feet and three times a week you go to your therapist and cry your eyes out.
GK: So you came here searching for the meaning of life, huh, sister?
FP: I went to my first Lutheran church supper last week, Mr. Noir. I ate my first Jell-O salad with mandarin oranges and sliced bananas and green grapes. I drank my first non-Starbucks coffee. Percolated coffee, Mr. Noir. And I listened to wonderful people talking and people actually listening to each other.
GK: That's nice. You need somebody to look after your apartment in New York while you're out here on your listening tour, Miss Duke?
FP: No, thanks----
GK: I could water your plants, walk your wolfhound----
FP: No, thanks.
GK: My rates are low. Airfare and a hundred a day----
FP: That's not why I came.
GK: Okay, make it busfare and fifty a day.
FP: Thanks, but no----
GK: Okay. What can I do for you, Miss Duke?
FP: I met a man.
GK: Oh boy.
FP: A wonderful man. And I fell in love with him.
GK: At the church supper.
FP: Yes. His name was Wendell. Wendell Lofgren.
GK: Okay---
FP: He wasn't wearing a wedding ring.
GK: And you liked him---
FP: I did. I found him very very attractive in a way I can't quite explain.
GK: And did he ask you out on a date?
FP: We went to breakfast. At a pancake house.
GK: Did you tell him that you thought he was attractive?
FP: I did.
GK: What did he say?
FP: He asked me if I liked to fish.
GK: In Minnesota, ma'am, that's practically a proposal of marriage....
FP: Then why hasn't he called me, Mr. Noir? It's been five days. No word. Nothing.
GK: What does he do for a living, Miss Duke?
FP: He's a producer.
GK: A Hollywood guy at a Lutheran church supper?
FP: A milk producer.
GK: Oh. Right.
FP: Milk comes from cows, right?
GK: Most of it, yes.
FP: He's a cow owner.
GK: Out here, the term is dairy farmer.
FP: Anyway, there was something so friendly...and honest about him. I want you to find him, Mr. Noir. And find out if he's attracted to me. And find out if he's willing to move to New York.
GK: Miss Duke, a warning, if I may: when it comes to finding single men in Minnesota, the odds are good, but the goods are odd. If you know what I mean. I don't know if you've ever met Norwegian bachelor farmers, but whatever you get from them, I'm not sure I'd call it companionship. (MUSIC BRIDGE) I headed over to the Five Spot to tell Jimmy about her and....(DOOR OPEN, JINGLE, DOOR CLOSE, FOOTSTEPS) there was another guy behind the bar. A big guy wearing dark glasses and smoking a cigar.
WB: Yeah? Whatcha looking at?
GK: Looking at you.
WB: What's the problem, fella?
GK: Just wondering where Jimmy went to.
WB: What business is it of yours?
GK: I'm a friend of his.
WB: If you're a friend, how come he didn't tell you he was quitting?
GK: Quitting!!! Jimmy???
WB: That's who we're talking about, isn't it? We're not talking about Trent Lott, are we?
GK: Why'd he quit?
WB: What am I? his psychotherapist? huh? Is there a sign on my head that says, "Answer Man"? Huh? Is there? How should I know why he quit?? I don't know him. Didn't want the job anymore, I suppose. Who can blame him? This place is strictly for creepos and turkeys, if you ask me. That's all who ever comes in here.
GK: You know, for somebody who deals with the general public, sir--- you have a----
WB: You coming in here to drink or just to bug me?
GK: I came in here to see Jimmy.
WB: Well, do you see him here? Huh? Do ya? Look around. Use your brain. What do you think? he's hiding under the ice machine?? I toldja. He's gone.
GK: You know, a lot of people who come into a bar are in sort of a vulnerable place in their lives---- it doesn't help to have a bartender who---
WB: (SARCASTICALLY) Oh, gee. Wait here while I go and get my violin. "A vulnerable place in their lives". Oh my. What is this? Oprah? Give me a break!!
GK: Aw, just give me a Martini. Straight up with a twist.
WB: No Martinis until after 6 p.m.
GK: What do you mean, no Martinis----
WB: Look. Right there on the sign. "No Martinis before 6 p.m. No refills on the peanuts. And if you drink to forget, Pay In Advance. You understand English?
GK: You're not from around here, are you..
WB: I'm from New York.
GK: Where in New York? Buffalo? (A MOMENT OF QUIET SEETHING) Syracuse? Schenectady? Poughkeepsie?
WB: Poughkeepsie!! Why, you-----. (HE SWINGS, AND WB AND GK SLUG IT OUT, SCUFFLING, SOME GLASS BREAKAGE, A CHAIR FALLS, AND THEN GK STARTS TO SWING, AND DOOR OPENS, JINGLES, AND HE STOPS IN MID-SWING) (DOOR CLOSES, FOOTSTEPS)
TR (MINNESOTA): Hi there. You mind if we come in? We were just passing by and we saw the sign, "Open," it said, so we figured you must be in business.
SS (MINNESOTA): Yeah, but if you're busy, you just say, and we can come back later.
TR: Don't matter to us. Either way.
WB: What are you talking about???
TR: Just saying, It's up to you, cause it's your place, so you're the boss.
SS: Real nice place you got, too. Nice wooden bar. Look at that. Boy, that's something. All wood.
TR: Yeah. Cept for the brass rail. Good job of woodworking too. Boy, whoever did that sure knew how to handle a wood lathe. Yessir. Darned nice. You make this yourself or you buy it somewhere?
WB: You're asking me?
TR: Sure is a nice one. I suppose a lot of people comment on it, don't they.
WB: What do you want? Huh? You need to use a phone or what? you need a bathroom----??? a glass of water??? what?
SS: You know, that's interesting you should mention that. I was just on the phone with my brother Wayne. He smokes cigars, too, by the way. Isn't that a coincidence? Anyway, he's always wanted to make a bar for his rec room, don't ya know. And anyways, I was just on the phone with him and he says to me, Sis, he says, when you're down there in the Cities, if you see a place that sells bar supplies, y'know, if they happen to have some of those napkins with the bubbles on em? Pick me up some. And here we are, in a bar, and there you got those very napkins he was talking about. Small world, huh?
WB: You want some napkins, take em. Take all you want. I don't care.
TR: Boy, that Wayne. Everytime I think about him, I just have to laugh.
SS: Yeah, I know what you mean.
TR (CHUCKLING): Yeah. That time in Brainerd. You remember that?
SS: You bet. Boy, that was different. (SS AND TR CHUCKLE TOGETHER AT LENGTH)
WB: What's so funny??? huh??? what's the big joke???
TR: Just recalling that time in Brainerd. Boy. What a card. (THEY CHUCKLE)
WB: What do you want? Who are you?
SS: Oh, for crying out loud, we walk in here and do we even introduce ourselves? no, we do not.
TR: Nope.
SS: You have to forgive us, we come in from a small town and we never introduce ourselves because--- you know----
TR (CHUCKLING): Because everybody there has known us since before we were born.
SS (CHUCKLING): Yessir. Before we were born. (TR AND SS CHUCKLE FOR A LONG TIME, TOGETHER AND THEN ALTERNATELY)
WB: SHUT UP! TR: I'm sorry. What'd you say then?
WB: STOP THAT CHUCKLING!!! I can't stand chuckling!!! What do you want? I don't have all day to stand here and listen to you!!!
TR (CHUCKLING): Well, we're not going to be here all day.
SS: Nope. We gotta be back for milking at five o'clock.
TR: Course, it only takes us an hour to get home, you know, since they opened up that new stretch of highway out of Maple Plain.
SS: Yeah, we used to have to go all the way up through Anoka and come across by Elk River.
TR: Now you just go out 394 and take the county road over to Maple Plain and get on that new highway and that takes you into Parkers Corner and you turn at the Pure Oil and then it's a straight shot right out through Jasper and Winnamaca and Boudreau and Morning Glory and Argus and right out to Marcels.
WB: Okay! Okay! I don't need directions!! Okay? What do you people want anyway? You want a beer? Huh? You want a beer, just say so. You don't have to tell me the story of your life. Okay?
TR: Well, you know, a beer would sure hit the spot about now.
WB: All right. One beer coming up. (FOOTSTEPS, AS WB DEPARTS, GRUMBLING)
GK: Excuse me, sir. Your name is Lofgren, isn't it. Wendell Lofgren.
TR: Why, doggone it, it is---- how'd you know that? you from up around Marcels too?
GK: No, sir. Just a lucky guess.
TR: Wanda, this fella here guessed my name. Isn't that something?
SS: Well, that's different, isn't it.
GK: This is your wife?
TR: Oh no. No, my sister. Isn't that something? He thought we were married, Wanda. (THEY CHUCKLE TOGETHER)
GK: You're looking for a woman named Duke, aren't you? Constance Duke. A lady from New York.
WB: Here's your beer. (CLUNK) (FOOTSTEPS APPROACH) What about you, lady?
GK: Mr. Lofgren, why didn't you call Miss Duke last week, after you took her out to breakfast----
TR: Why didn't I---- Well, that's a darned good question. Let me see. That was Tuesday, I think. Wasn't it? When I took that lady to the pancake house?
SS: It was the morning after the church supper.
TR: And the church supper was on Monday night, wasn't it?
SS: Well, you know, it used to be but then they changed it for Advent.
TR: Well, that's right, they did, didn't they.
SS: Yeah, they changed it to Sunday night during Advent.
TR: I think you might be right about that.
SS: Yeah, that was Pastor Olson's idea. I forget why.
TR: So it's been Sunday night for ten years or more then----
SS: Eighteen years is more like it.
TR: Was it that long ago then?
SS: Yeah, because the Olsons left in 1982, don't ya know.
TR: Was it that long ago? Huh. Interesting.---- (DOOR OPEN, JINGLE, DOOR CLOSE. SLOW FOOTSTEPS OF HIGH HEELS APPROACH)---
SS: Yeah, because the Sivertsens celebrated their twentieth anniversary here two years ago and Pastor Olson married them when her mother was still alive and she passed away in 1978. Seventy nine or seventy eight. I think it was 78.
TR: So it was 1982 the Olsons left, then.
SS: Yeah, I'm pretty sure about that.
TR: And went off to Fort Worth, Texas, I believe.
SS: No, it was Abilene.
TR: Are you sure? I always thought it was Fort Worth.
SS: No, it was Abilene because, remember? we used to kid him about that song, Abilene.
TR: Oh, you're right. It was Abilene.
SS: Went to Abilene. 1982. Or 1981.
FP: Wendell, excuse me---- it's Constance---- you remember me?
TR: Well, doggone it. Boy, it's good to see you. I was just telling my sister the other day ----- sorry, I forgot to introduce you---- this is my sister Wanda ---- Wanda Bergstrom.....and Wanda, this is Constance Duke, the lady I told you about, from New York City.....
FP: It's a pleasure to meet you, Wanda.
SS: Well, just look at that dress. That is what I call a real nice dress. You make that dress yourself? Is that a polyester blend?
FP: No, it's wool. And it's Italian.
SS: Is that right? Well, isn't that something. Italian. I heard of people buying clothes from there and I just never saw one before. Well, you learn something new every day.
FP: Wendell---- I have to know something.
TR: Right----
FP: Are you seeing another woman?
TR: Well, you know, I was, and then she put up curtains.
FP: Wendell, look at me.
TR: Hey. No problem.
FP: Wendell, I want you to come to New York and I'll buy us a farm, Wendell. In New Jersey. We'll raise purebred cattle, and I'll make you happy, Wendell. You'll take care of the cows and I'll edit Beau Monde and I'll come home at night and I'll rip your clothes off and we'll make wild passionate love and we'll do it over and over and over and over----and then we'll come downstairs and have Jell-O with mandarin oranges.
TR: Boy, that Jell-O sure hits the spot, don't it. My mother used to put walnuts in hers, and you know, walnuts I can do without, but everything else---- boy--- cherries, chunks of pineapple, shredded carrots, kiwi, you name it, I'm all for it. Of course I do prefer raspberry. Nothing against other flavors. But raspberry, boy --- when you're talkin raspberry, then you're talking Jell-O.
SS: And I can hardly bear to look at raspberry Jell-O. Isn't that something. (SS AND TR CHUCKLE TOGETHER)
GK: I think it was your use of the word "passionate" that threw him off, there, ma'am.
FP: "Passionate"? They don't say that here.
GK: No. And we don't say "make love". We say "mess around" and a lot of the time we don't say anything, we just look at the floor and wait.
FP: Do you think he's attracted to me, Mr. Noir?
GK: Wendell? He likes you just fine. And if you lived next door to him in Marcels and you hung your clothes out on the line every week, maybe in eight or ten years he might ask you to the movies. But you're not going to get Wendell out to New Jersey, ma'am.
FP: It's hopeless, isn't it.
GK: I'm afraid so.
FP: I don't know why I'm always attracted to unavailable men.
GK: I'm available.
FP: As I say. I'm attracted to unavailable men.
GK: What is it? the slow talk? I can talk slow. I can talk as slow as you like.
FP: I guess I'll go back to New York and ---- dream of what might have been. What's his address ---- so I can write to him?
GK: Just Wendell Lofgren in Marcels. M-a-r-s-e-i-l-l-e-s. Marcels, Minnesota.
FP: Thank you so much for your help. Ciao. (A FEW FOOTSTEPS) Goodbye, Wendell, my love.
TR: Yeah, you take care now, you hear? Sure was nice to meet ya.
SS: Yeah, and anytime you come through Marcels, you look us up. Ask anybody. They'll tell you right where to find us.
FP: I'll always remember you, Wendell.
TR: Yeah. You take care then. Bye now.
SS: Bye now.
FP (WEEPILY): Bye now. (FOOTSTEPS TO THE DOOR, DOOR OPEN, JINGLE, CLOSE)
(THEME)
TR: A dark night in a city that keeps its secrets, and there on the twelfth floor of the Acme Building is a guy still trying to find the answers to life's questions.....Guy Noir, Private Eye.
(MUSIC OUT)
(c) 1999 by Garrison Keillor