At the crossroads of the Empire State, this is WROW Music, row 59 on your Albany dial.
A tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
In a moment, Act 1 of At the Point of an Ego, starring Betty Gard and Walter Kinsella, and written especially for suspense by Joseph Cochran.
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Parliament.
George, you've simply got to do something about this terrible heat. I can't stand it.
Oh, good grief, Myra. I'm not to blame for the weather.
I didn't say that. But we can escape it by taking a cottage at the beach.
Like last year, when we got there, all you did was complain about the same heat.
The flies, the hot sand, the freezing water, and the people.
You just couldn't stand these awful people who clutter up the beach.
Oh, you're just making up excuses.
I certainly prefer a cool beach to this stifling house.
I've never known such heat. This is the hottest summer I've ever known.
Don't you think so, George?
Well, isn't it?
George, you're not answering me. Isn't this the hottest summer you've...
No. Last summer was just as hot. Hotter even.
Oh, don't be silly. Couldn't have been. We've never known heat like this.
Well, it's right here in the paper.
The average temperature as of today is just two degrees less than last summer.
This day last year was 1.8 hotter.
The newspapers. A lot they know.
The man sits on top of a nice cool building where there's a breeze and charts the temperature.
He's not sweltering in that kitchen, George.
I just can't do a thing.
Just the thought of preparing a meal thickens me.
Don't you feel the heat?
Of course I feel it, Myra. But what's the use of griping about it?
Well, then why don't you want to get out of it?
Heavens! Who said I didn't?
Don't you think I have the same heat at the office?
Don't I come home every night wringing wet?
Well, then why don't you want to take a cottage at the beach?
Money, Myra. Ever hear of it?
Just a little matter of money.
Oh, I wish to goodness you'd stop griping about the heat long enough to sit down and discuss my income, my expenses,
how much money I've left at the end of the month.
Oh, that's just another excuse.
Whenever I want to do something, you change the subject to money.
Certainly if the Bennets can afford the beach, we can.
Oh, I know. I know that one by heart.
I make just as much money as Dave Bennet.
But I've told you a hundred times the Bennets cut down another thing so they can go to the beach.
Oh, so now you're accusing me of being extravagant.
Oh.
But look at me. Just look at me.
I dress in rags. I slave all year in this house.
And what does it get me?
Other people go to the beach for months at a time.
But if I want to get away from the heat for a few days, you start finding excuses for not going.
Oh, George, I don't want to complain, but I think I do deserve a little consideration.
Don't start that again, Myra. We'll go to the beach.
Oh, so money was just an excuse all along, huh?
You didn't want to get me out of the hot kitchen, huh?
We're going to the beach, Myra. Isn't that what you want?
I'll arrange for the money somehow.
But why didn't you agree to the beach in the first place and save all this fuss?
It's just upset me terribly, George.
Look, it's for your good too. You know that.
You look awful tired. And the beach will be just the place for you to relax.
No, no, no, George. A little more to the left.
I want that sign right in the middle.
Myra, I don't see any point in it, putting up the signs.
They say plainly no trespassing, don't they?
So what?
I'll nail them to the retaining wall. No one's going to climb over the wall or get on your property.
People come here to sit on the sand.
George, the idea of the signs is to keep people off the sand in front of our cottage.
What? Oh, now look, Myra, you're going to stop last summer all over again.
We rented this cottage, and I think we should be able to enjoy the sand in front of it
without having it messed up by those awful people who come for the day.
This is our home, and we have some right to privacy.
More for the love of Mike. Everyone's house has people in front on the sand.
No one else has signs up.
Well, we're going to have them.
You may not object to a swarm of noisy people in front of our cottage, but I do.
Myra, please be reasonable.
George, if you don't want to put up the signs, give me the hammer and I'll do it.
Never mind, never mind.
I can see right now if I don't put them up, I'll hear about it all summer.
Where do you want the other one?
On the other side of the steps.
Oh, and be sure it's exactly the same height and evenly spaced with this one.
And don't try to get sand all over my blanket as you walk by, will you?
Yes, Myra.
And when you get the sign up, I want you to bring down the umbrella.
I can't hear you.
Well, if you'd stop that hammering for a minute and pay some attention, you would.
I said when you get through, I want you to bring down the beach chairs and the umbrella and some blankets.
We'll spread them out in front of the cottage so those awful people will know this space is taken.
Beach cottage, what a place to get a rest by trying to relax in a swarm of bees.
George, did you say something?
No, Myra, not a thing.
Well, it certainly sounded like it.
Nothing, nothing at all.
Will you please stop hammering when you talk to me?
Hey, Bill, here's a good spot. Let's spread our blankets.
This is fine as they are. Hold the thermos and books while I spread the blankets.
Okay. Oh, gee, it's good to get here.
Oh, look at that ocean. Isn't it wonderful?
Oh, it sure is.
But I am going to lie on the sand and lap up all the sunshine I can.
I'm going to get some tan on my height.
Hey, isn't that little cottage creepy? I wish we'd get one of the white ones.
There's plenty of stuff out there on the porch, chairs, and blankets.
And a perfect circus under that umbrella.
Well, of all the nerve. Come here, George. Look out there. Do you see what I see?
What did you expect?
Well, if you'd put those chairs and blankets out like I told you, this wouldn't have happened.
But no, leave them on the porch.
I was nailing up those no trespassing signs, which are supposed to make people run away from this spot.
I guess some people can't read.
Myra, stop it. They'll hear you down there.
Let them hear me.
What's the matter with her?
Who?
That woman in that cottage, she's shouting something about us.
Oh, no, Esther.
Why should she?
She doesn't mean a thing to some people.
She's talking about us, didn't you hear?
When did I talk?
I don't think she wants us here.
Well, it's just too bad.
George, George, we're going to have to take...
This is a public beach. Now you ignore.
How about going with some corks?
Look at them.
Yeah, they think they are.
But?
Nothing.
Well, aren't you going to do anything?
Myra, there isn't anything I can do. They're not hurting us. They have a right to sit on the beach.
Why, they're practically in our yard.
I want to look at the ocean without a lot of riff-raff making a garbage dump in my lap.
No one's making a garbage dump.
Oh, they will.
They'll eat their lunch and throw papers and scraps of food all over.
Myra, look. This is a public beach.
We can't run people away just because you don't happen to like seeing them around.
Oh, so you're sticking up for them against your own wife, huh?
You know, it would be nice if for once, just once, you'd be on my side.
I can be on your side, Myra, when you're in the right.
But most of the time, you're not. You're only half right.
That's ignorance.
Bill, you hear that? We're ignorant.
Oh, let her rage.
Who the heck is sitting with you today?
It's a free country. Let it go.
Oh, it's not going to be very pleasant if you keep it up.
Boring.
Some people act as if they own the whole beach.
Oh, will you pipe down?
Let her scream her head off if you want.
George, did you hear that? She's talking about us. About me.
You started it, and I'm asking you to stop it.
Upstarts. That's all they are.
What's the use of paying the money?
She's getting kind of nasty. She's some old sour person.
Come on, let's move.
Why should we? We have a right to be here.
I know that, but she's going to see to it that we don't enjoy ourselves.
Now, life is too short to quibble. It's simply to move.
Oh, all right, all right.
But this house is all along. Suppose everybody tries to drive us away.
No, everybody won't be as nasty as she is. Now, they couldn't be.
Now, hold this stuff for me, huh?
Boy, I sure feel sorry for her husband.
Yeah, he looks like a pretty good scout, too.
Probably embarrassed about the whole thing.
But he is married to her and has to listen, and we don't.
They're going.
Oh, that does it.
Bill, I am not going to let anybody drive us off a public beach.
We're staying right here.
They're still out there. Three hours.
For the love of heaven, Marissa, sit down, eat your lunch.
How can you expect me to enjoy my lunch or anything else,
as long as that disgusting girl and that awful man are lying right in front of our doorstep?
Will you please stop then and let me eat?
Look at them staring at our windows.
Look at her. She's laughing like a silly fool.
Can't we do something? Call the police and have them come in.
No, Myra, I told you no 40 times. There's no grounds for arrest.
They haven't done anything.
Well, I wanted to have lunch on the beach myself, but we couldn't because of them.
You definitely did not.
You said we were to eat in the cottage today and have a picnic lunch tomorrow.
Well, I changed my mind.
It's the perfect day for being outside.
There's tomorrow. It may rain.
I give up.
I've got it. I'll show them.
George, you go up to the attic and get that old phonograph and some of those records the owner left up there.
Now what are you going to do?
You'll see. We'll see whether they can camp in front of our cottage and expect to enjoy themselves.
I wish to goodness you'd forget those two people out there and try to get some pleasure out of this vacation.
Are you going to do as I ask, or do you want me to lug that heavy phonograph down all by myself?
All right, Myra, you win. As always, I'll get the phonograph.
No, finish your lunch. I didn't mean this minute. After lunch.
George, come back and eat your lunch.
I'm not hungry anymore.
Well, you don't have to make so much noise.
I'm going to say just one more thing, Myra, and a lot depends on what you do after I've said it.
Yes, George.
Every time you play that record, you're making a fool out of me.
Oh, don't be silly. Why can't I play it?
The free country. That man said so.
Come on, honey, let's go.
All right, Bill, but she's not getting away with it. We're coming back tomorrow.
Maybe I can dig up an old phonograph somewhere.
They couldn't take it. See, see, George, I told you so. We've won, George.
We have won? Oh, no, Myra, you have won. You just scratched the heart out of me with that old worn out needle.
George, when you get the dishes done, get those chairs and blankets in front of the cottage.
Oh, the chairs.
What's the matter?
I forgot to bring them in last night.
Oh, how could you? I told you to bring them in. I distinctly remember telling you.
Oh, you told me all right. I forgot. After yesterday, I didn't care much.
Well, it's a wonder you wouldn't remember when I asked you to do things.
They'll be all damp, soaking wet from the fog. If they're still out there, they haven't been stolen.
Oh, don't get excited. I can see them from the window.
Well, it's a miracle they haven't been stolen. Anybody could have...
George!
Now what?
Come here this instant. Look out there. They've come back, that cello and girl.
They're putting their stuff right where they were yesterday.
Myra, will you please cut it out?
They'll get the same thing they got yesterday, all right. Get that phonograph.
Be reasonable for the love of heaven, be reasonable.
Why don't you ask them to be reasonable? Why don't you go down and shout at them to be reasonable?
Oh, no, you won't do that. You put the blame on me. I'm the unreasonable one.
You won't lift a finger to keep them away, and when I want to do something, I'm unreasonable.
Look, George, they've got a phonograph. They're playing it on our beach.
Myra.
George! George, make them stop! George, stop them!
George, Myra, you're making a fool of yourself.
They're playing it on our beach.
They're playing it on our beach.
George, stop, I say. Stop them, George.
Court's in session.
Now I have this to say to both parties in this dispute.
We are glad to see all the summer people come to our beach.
We welcome all, so long as they behave themselves.
I want it understood that the beach is a public one, not a private one.
Mr. and Mrs. Pettit, the line of the property you rented for the summer is the retaining wall that ends where the beach sand begins.
It is my understanding this disturbance took place on the beach,
and the two parties were creating a nuisance to other people by paying loud and continuous certain antiquated records.
That's right, Your Honor. This lady got huffy because we were lying in the sand in front of her cottage.
That's right, Your Honor.
She got an old record and she played it over and over.
The next day we came back with a machine of our own.
Your Honor, I happen to like that song. I was trying to study the singer's voice.
Myra.
Now that's the truth.
Quiet! Quiet!
You are directed to study voice in the privacy of your home, not on a public beach.
All of them are to observe the rules of conduct which any person of common sense knows.
Now, it's too nice a day to be arguing in a stuffy courtroom.
You are fined $10, but I suspend sentence.
However, let me warn all of you that should you be brought into this court again, I shall hand out the severest sentence in the book.
Now, all of you get out of my court and take a dip in the ocean to cool off.
Justice. Is that what they call justice?
Isn't there such a thing as a right to privacy in this country anymore?
We might as well be living in Russia.
And that judge. Did you see that judge, George? Wasn't he awful looking?
Like a gangster. I bet he never saw the inside of a law school. I bet he never went through the third grade in school.
How can they put people like that on the bench, George? How can they?
Oh, I don't know.
There ought to be something we could do about him.
Myra, we got off easy. Now let's forget it.
Forget it?
Yes.
What are you talking about?
You expect me to forget a humiliation like that? Why, why he acted as if we were criminals, like we were the trespassers.
We did lose, you know. We were fined and the sentence was suspended.
I can't believe it. A sock pen with a hayseed like that on the bench. I can believe anything.
Where did he learn the law? I'd certainly like to see his diploma.
If I knew where he went to college, I'd write them a letter and tell them what kind of lawyers they graduate.
His degree was framed and hanging on the wall. He went to Harvard.
Don't be silly. He couldn't have.
Will you stop telling me not to be silly? Silly means weak-minded. An idiot.
Of course it doesn't. Now look, I don't think you're weak-minded, but I do think you could be more forceful and aggressive.
The trouble with you, George, is that you let people run all over you.
If you had done what I asked and told those people to move on, this never would have happened.
Sir, you're driving too fast. How many times have I told you not to drive so fast?
At least a thousand times.
Well, don't drive so fast. You know it upsets me.
Now, as I was saying, your trouble is that you take whatever people hand out to you.
You never raise a fuss or tell people to get out of your way. Oh, no. It's one reason why you don't get anywhere.
Please, I'm tired. And I don't want criticism.
But I'm not criticizing, George. I'm just telling you for your own good.
That judge ought to be disbarred. He's a disgrace to the legal profession.
Maybe we ought to write to the Bar Association. I'll bet they'd do something.
We came to the beach to enjoy ourselves, not spend our time reforming the judicial system.
Well, at least we can appeal the case.
Look, couldn't you write that friend of yours in Boston, you know, that big lawyer friend of yours, tell him what happened to us?
Why don't you invite him down here for dinner some night and discuss it with him?
Myra, we're not going to act like children. We lost, we got off easy, and I want you to forget about any further action.
Why? Why should we?
Do we have to be humiliated, hold into court like common criminals because of those cheap, slovenly people who are ruining our beach?
Why shouldn't we be able to enjoy our nice cottage? I'm not going to sit by and let people push me around.
You can do whatever you want, but in the name of heaven, stop talking about it and let me have some peace.
Don't drive so fast, George.
George, why are you driving so fast?
I want to see how fast I can go. I want to see how many telephone poles I can break down with.
I want to drive till the engine falls apart like I'm falling apart. You're driving my brains up and down like the pistons.
Your words are exploding in my weary mind like the gas in the cylinder.
George!
And I can't stand much more of it. I can't stand much more of it, Myra.
George, you're drunk. Now slow down, please, slow down.
George, you're ruining my hair and I just went to the beauty parlor this morning.
George.
George, wake up.
George!
What's the matter?
George, wake up. Will you get up and see?
What?
On the beach out front. They're back.
So what?
Awful couple. No photograph, but back bold as brass and big as life.
Now I asked you last night to get up early this morning and put the chairs and blankets out.
Now it's too late.
I fell asleep.
You did it purposely. You didn't want to put those things out.
You wanted those people to come and annoy me.
What's the use, Myra?
You've got to do something. Any.
Myra.
Get those two spiteful people away from our front steps.
Now you know as well as I do that they only return to rub in that horrible business in court.
All right, Myra. I'll do something.
Wait a minute. Not later. Not this afternoon, but now. Right now.
Sure, sure. Right now. I'm getting up, Myra. I'll do something.
I'll warn them to get out. I'll warn them first.
Another day. Another day.
Now listen, you two. I know why you're back. And I want out.
So go on. Get away from here.
Look, I don't want your kind here. Judge or no judge.
Nobody can make a fool out of me, you understand?
Listen to me. If you don't go away, I'll...
George.
George, that gun.
George. George. George, listen.
Don't shoot. Don't shoot.
George, in God's name, what have you done?
They won't bother you now, Myra. Anymore. Ever.
George. Look what you've done. Oh, you fool.
Why did you do that?
Why?
What difference does it make? You couldn't understand.
Operator, get me the police. I want to report a murder.
I'll never understand what came over George that morning.
He must have gone mad. Stark, raving mad.
The lawyer, his friend from Boston, well, he said insanity was the only kind of defense to offer.
But George? No, no, not George. He wouldn't listen.
He turned stubborn, and I couldn't prod him to do a thing.
Not even to save his life. He acted as if he wanted to die.
He left me without a penny. Even his life insurance was gone.
Little by little, behind my back, he borrowed on it until there was nothing left.
What a thing to do to me, after I'd been such a kind and loving wife.
Why, I didn't even have enough money to buy a decent morning outfit.
Suspense.
You have been listening to At the Point of the Needle, starring Betty Gard and Walter Kinsella,
and written especially for suspense by Joseph Cochran.
In a moment, a word about next week's story of suspense.
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Suspense is produced and directed by Fred Hendrickson, edited by Norman Ober.
Music supervision by Ethel Huber.
Also heard in tonight's story were Bob Reddick, Terry Keene, and Bill Adams.
Sound Patterns by Walter Otto.
Technical Direction by James Berry.
Listen again next week when we return with Devil's Stone, written by Jonathan Bundy.
Another tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
This is Warren Moran speaking.