The Snake Pit

Do you know where you are, Mrs Cunningham?

Where is he? As if he were crouching behind me.

- Why am I afraid to look at him? - You know, don't you, Mrs Cunningham?

In New York, of course. I used to live in Evanston, Illinois.

That's where I was born. It's right near Chicago.

Did you sleep well last night, Mrs Cunningham?

- How are you today? - Very well, thank you.

Who is he, and why all those questions?

As if he were testing me.

- Do you hear voices? - You think I'm deaf? Of course. I hear yours.

It's hard to keep on being civil

when they ask you such naïve questions.

But who's that? And what's happened to him?

You suspect him of anything.

He's clever, but he can't fool me with his magic.

It's an old trick, changing into a girl.

Oh, no. She can't be he. She doesn't ask questions.

Pardon me, but you look pale. Have you been job hunting?

- Virginia, don't be silly. - You know my name?

You must have seen it on my bag. I don't know where it is.

I was going to get some groceries and go back to the apartment.

- Oh, could you tell me how to get to... - What are you talking about?

How to get to where? Where? What's the name of the street?

It's the sun. It's too warm.

I'm worried about you, Virginia.

I wasn't gonna tell you this, but I'm going to One.

Maybe I'll be leaving from there. Before long, I'll be on my own,

wondering where the next meal's coming from.

- Look, how would you like to... - All right, ladies!

- Let's go. - What's the matter?

- Please. You don't wanna make trouble. - What is it? A fire? A riot?

- Shh. - All right, ladies. Fall in. Fall in.

- You heard me. I said fall in. - Fall in? Fall in what?

- No talking, ladies. - You see?

Why do we have to stand with all of them?

Come on, ladies.

Let's go.

Oh, I see. It's a zoo, a tour. I don't like a zoo, do you?

I don't like the smell, and I'm sorry for the animals, locked up in cages.

Don't talk now. You know it's against the rules.

- Enjoy the sun, Virginia? - Yes, thank you.

People are friendly in New York, or maybe just fresh.

I've never seen her before, and she calls me Virginia.

What am I supposed to say, "Hi, kiddo"?

Come on. Step along.

- Ruth, Minna, where are you going? - Okay, Jean. They're all in.

Ward 3A, step out. No talking, ladies.

Mary, get up. You know better than that. Come on.

Ward 3A, we haven't got all day.

- Where are we going? - Keep in line, ladies.

Why do we have to keep in line?

- I don't like regimentation. - Please, Virginia.

- Doing all right, Lucille? - Yes, thank you.

I may have to make a speech against it.

- Against what? - Regimentation, of course.

But I... I can't make a speech without writing it first.

Now, now. Don't run, ladies.

And no pushing.

Quit pushing! Somebody's pushing!

- Come on! Open the door! - Quiet here. No talking, I said.

The way they treat you, you'd think we were criminals.

- That's right. - Criminals?

Come on. Take over here, will you? Come on, ladies. Let's go.

- Criminals? - Come on, Virginia.

A prison?

That's it. A prison. I should've known it.

- How did I get here? - What's wrong, honey?

- Let me go. Let me go! - Virginia, Miss Hart will hear you.

I won't stay here. I won't stay in this place another minute. I wanna get out!

What's the trouble?

Nothing, Miss Hart. It's just that Virginia feels a little faint.

She got a little too much sun, I think. She'll be all right.

Hello, Mrs Cunningham.

Miss Hart, we'd like to speak to Mrs Cunningham for a minute.

Yes, Doctor. Go ahead, Grace.

I'm sorry.

Would you like to sit down?

Don't be afraid, Mrs Cunningham. We're your friends.

We just want to talk to you.

- How do you feel today? - Very well, thank you.

Is there any reason why I shouldn't feel well?

No, of course not.

Maybe you'll think it's strange to ask you this,

but somehow people never remember my face.

Do you know who I am, Mrs Cunningham?

Of course.

You do? Tell me.

Don't you know?

If you don't mind, would you tell me just the same?

- The warden. - The warden of what?

Of this prison.

Is there any reason why you should be in prison?

Why, yes, of course. I'm writing a novel about prisons,

and I've come here to study conditions and take notes.

About one day's worth, thank you, and I'm going to leave now.

Where will you go when... when you leave here?

- To your husband? - I have no husband.

You haven't? I thought you were married.

I am married.

If you're married, doesn't that mean that you have a husband?

Oh, pardon me. It slipped my mind. What's your name again?

Stuart. Virginia Stuart.

- Miss Stuart? - No. Mrs Stuart.

- Mrs Stuart? - Virginia, darling, look at me.

Don't you know who I am? I'm Robert. Virginia.

All right, Mrs Cunningham. The nurse'll take you back now.

Come on, Virginia.

You know, I'll be really sorry to leave those poor girls.

I asked you to come here

because I've been going over the information you gave about your wife.

We've seldom had a case history that told so little.

I wish I could tell you more about it, Dr...

I'm sorry, but I can't quite pronounce your name.

Kik's all right. That's what everybody calls me here.

Well, you see, Dr Kik, my wife never talked very much about herself,

or her family.

I always thought it was strange, but...

when you love somebody, you're not looking for symptoms.

Looking back now, I see things I never thought were important before.

Would you like to tell me about them?

Well, the first time I met her, Doctor, was... was in Chicago.

I was a clerk in a publishing house

which was putting out some second-string magazines.

It was my first job after getting out of the army.

It wasn't much. I was taking my time getting settled,

but I kept my eyes open for something better.

That's where I saw her first.

- Miss Stuart. - Yes?

I'm sorry. Miss Gilmore's tied up right now.

She asked me to return your manuscript,

to tell you she liked the story very much, but...

The idea is too depressing.

The characters aren't quite the way she'd like to see them.

And the end doesn't quite come off. Or is it the beginning?

I'm awfully glad she liked it.

- No, she really did, but you see... - She isn't going to publish it.

Well, she said she hoped you'd understand.

I hoped she would.

- Here. You may keep them. - Thank you.

There was a place downstairs in the building.

Every day, I made up my mind to eat somewhere else,

but I usually ended up there.

Thank you. Keeps going up, huh?

I noticed her right away. Sitting there, she looked like a kid

who'd been told to eat something she didn't want.

- Hello. Mind if I sit here? - No.

Thank you.

Your first one?

First one I thought was good. Until today.

Look, may I tell you something about our Miss Gilmore?

No.

You mean, you'd rather I wouldn't talk?

No. I didn't mean that.

Well, Miss Gilmore or no Miss Gilmore,

if I wrote a story I thought was good,

I wouldn't care what anybody said about it,

or how many editors turned it down. I'd...

I'd stop smoking and start eating.

Why don't you fire Miss Gilmore and read my story?

You know, I might at that.

After that, she used to drop by the cafeteria every so often.

- Hello, Virginia. - Hello.

She always had some kind of excuse for coming. I didn't care.

I was just glad she did.

It didn't take us long to find out that we liked the same kind of things.

We liked music, the same kind of music.

We liked walking together.

I knew a place where you got the best soda in town.

She loved it.

She didn't tell me much about herself.

I knew she lived out of town, but I didn't know where.

Somehow I thought she was grateful that I didn't ask too many questions.

Sure, it was strange, but maybe that's why I liked her.

She seemed to like me. I don't know how many times we met,

but somehow I felt that she needed me, like a child looking for protection.

Then, it was early in May, I think...

- Hello. - Hello, darling.

This was going to be our big day.

The Boston Philharmonic was in Chicago playing Brahms' First.

We planned to spend the whole afternoon together

and go to the concert.

Oh, I forgot to tell you. You know the guy from overseas

who said he'd get me into the Alden Hotels in New York?

I got a letter from him the other day, and it's all set if I want it.

Pay isn't much to start with, but it's more than I'm getting here, so I...

- Robert, I can't go to the concert. - What?

Something's come up. Something important.

I'm sorry. I was trying to tell you all afternoon.

Virginia, what is it?

- What's it all about? - It's no use, Robert. I'm sorry.

I've got to leave right away. I can't explain it.

Virginia, wait a minute.

Let me go. Let me go. Please!

Let me go!

That was the last time I saw her in Chicago.

She didn't come back, and I couldn't find her.

I came to New York and took my new job.

For six months, I hadn't heard a word from her.

Then the Boston Philharmonic was in New York.

Somehow, it had become a habit with me, looking for her everywhere.