WALLY: God! What did he say?
ANDRE: Nothing! I talked! He didn't say a word! And. And then, I guess really the last big experience of this kind took place that fall. It was out on Montauk, on Long Island, and there were only about nine of us involved, mostly men. And, we'd borrowed Dick Avedon's property out at Montauk. And the country out there is like Heathcliff country, it's absolutely wild! What we wanted to do, was we wanted to take All Souls' Eve, Halloween, and use it as a point of departure for something. So, each one of us prepared some sort of event for the others, somehow in the spirit of All Souls' Eve. But the biggest event was that three of the people kept disappearing in the middle of the night, each night, and we knew they were preparing something big, but we didn't know what? And midnight, on Halloween, under a dark moon above these cliffs, we were all told to gather at the topmost cliff, and that we'd be taken somewhere. And we did. And we waited. And it was very, very cold. And then the three of them, Helen, Bill and Fred, showed up wearing white, you know, something they'd made out of sheets--looked a little spooky, not funny. And they took us into the basement of this house that had burned down on the property, and in this ruined basement they had set up a table, with benches they'd made. And on this table they had laid out paper, pencils, wine and glasses. And we were all asked to sit at the table and to make out our last will and testament, you know, to think about and write down whatever our last words were to the world, or to somebody we were very close to. And that's quite a task. I must have been there for about an hour and a half or so, maybe two. And then one at a time, they would ask one of us to come with them, and I was one of the last, and they came for me, and they put a blindfold on me and they ran me through these fields, two people. And they'd found a kind of potting shed, you know, a kind of shed on the grounds, a little tiny room that had once had tools in it. And they took me down the steps into this basement, and the room was just filled with harsh, white light. And then they told me to get undressed, and give them all my valuables. Then they put me on a table and they sponged me down. Well, you know, I just started flashing on death camps and secret police. I don't know what happened to the other people, but I just started to cry uncontrollably. Then they got me to my feet and they took photographs of me, naked. And then naked, again blindfolded, I was run through these forests, and we came to a kind of tent made of sheets, with sheets on the ground, and there were all these naked bodies huddling together for warmth against the cold. 'Must have been left there for about an hour. And then again, one by one, one at a time, we were led out, the blindfold was put on, and I felt myself being lowered onto something like a stretcher. And the stretcher was carried a long way, very slowly, through these forests. And then I felt myself being lowered into the ground! They had, in fact, dug six graves eight feet deep! And then I felt these pieces of wood being put on me. I mean, I cannot tell you, Wally, what I was going through. And then, the stretcher was lowered into the grave, and then this wood was put on me, and then my valuables were put on me in my hands, and they had taken, you know, a kind of sheet or canvas, and they stretched about this much above my head. And then they shoveled dirt into the grave, so that I really had the feeling of being buried alive. And after being in the grave for about half an hour, I mean, I didn't know how long I'd be in there, I was resurrected, lifted out of the grave, blindfold taken off, and run through these fields, and we came to a great circle of fire with music and hot wine. And everyone danced until dawn! And then, at dawn, to the best of our ability, we filled up the graves and went back to New York. [Serving sounds.]
That was really the last big event. I mean, that was the end. I mean, you know, I began to realize I just didn't want to do these things any more, you know. I felt sort of "becalmed," you know, like that chapter in Moby Dick where the wind goes out of the sails. And then last winter, without thinking about it very much, I went to see this agent I know, to tell him I was interested in directing plays again. Actually he seemed a little surprised to see that Rip Van Winkle was still alive! [The main course is served.]
WALLY: [Surprised at the quaiclass="underline" ] Hum! God! I didn't know they were so small!
ANDRE: [With his mouth fulclass="underline" ] Well, you know, frankly, I'm sort of repelled by the whole story, if you really want to know.
WALLY: What!?
ANDRE: I mean, who did I think I was, you know? I mean, that's the story of some kind of spoiled princess. I mean, you know, who did I think I was, the Shah of Iran? You know, I really wonder if people such as myself are really not Albert Speer, Wally. You know? Hitler's architect, Albert Speer?
WALLY: Hunh!?
ANDRE: No, I've been thinking a lot about him recently, because I think I am Speer, and I think it's time that I was caught and tried the way he was.
WALLY: [Not amused:] What are you talking about?
ANDRE: Well, I mean, you know, he was a very cultivated man, an architect, an artist, you know, so he thought the ordinary rules of life didn't apply to him either. [He eats.] I mean, I really feel that everything I've done is horrific, just horrific!
WALLY: My God! But, why!?
ANDRE: You see, I've seen a lot of death in the last few years, Wally, and there's one thing that's for sure about death: you do it alone, you see, that seems quite certain, you see, that I've seen. That the people around your bed mean nothing, your reviews mean nothing. Whatever it is, you do it alone. And so the question is: when I get on my deathbed what kind of a person am I going to be, and I'm just very dubious about the kind of person who would have lived his life those last few years the way I did.