Laura! Laura! [ LAURAanswers from kitchenette.]
LAURA. Yes, Mother.
AMANDA. Let those dishes go and come in front!
[ LAURAappears with dish towel. Gaily]
Laura, come here and make a wish on the moon!
[SCREEN IMAGE: MOON]
LAURA [entering]. Moon--moon?
AMANDA. A little silver slipper of a moon. Look over your left shoulder, Laura, and make a wish!
[ LAURAlooks faintly puzzled as if called out of sleep. AMANDA seizes her shoulders and turns her at an angle by the door.]
Now! Now, darling, wish!
LAURA. What shall I wish for, Mother?
AMANDA [her voice trembling and her eyes suddenly filling with tears]. Happiness! Good fortune!
[The violin rises and the stage dims out.]
IMAGE: HIGH SCHOOL HERO.
[ Tom, narrating.] And so the following evening I brought Jim home to dinner. I had known Jim slightly in high school. In high school Jim was a hero. He had tremendous Irish good nature and vitality with the scrubbed and polished look of white chinaware. He seemed to move in a continual spotlight. He was a star in basketball, captain of the debating club, president of the senior class and the glee club and he sang the male lead in the annual light operas. He was always running or bounding, never just walking. He seemed always at the point of defeating the law of gravity. He was shooting with such velocity through his adolescence that you would logically expect him to arrive at nothing short of the White House by the time he was thirty. But Jim apparently ran into more interference after his graduation from Soldan. His speed had definitely slowed. Six years after he left high school he was holding a job that wasn't much better than mine.
He was the only one at the warehouse with whom I was on friendly terms. I was valuable to him as someone who could remember his