Saving Rolfe, or: Reclaiming a Stolen Heart

 Clarence the Angel’s Final “Wonderful Life” Adventure?

FADE IN.

EXT. Heavenly Way Station (or is it a “weigh” station?) It’s a dark and stormy night. Or day? Who can tell?

CLARENCE, attired in his favorite pale-pink chiffon angel gown, confers with long-time Way Station clerk JACOB “BIFF” MARLEY. They are watching scenes from The Sound of Music on a tiny past-viewing tablet at Marley’s workstation.

CLARENCE

Hills alive with music and dancing, a convent filled with worshipful worshipers worshiping and taking vows. What a beautiful scenario. (He twirls around to enjoy the floating chiffon gown.)

MARLEY (scrolling and fast-forwarding)

And Nazis. 

CLARENCE

What do Nazis have to do with the price of schnitzel? 

MARLEY

Nazis are the classic foils for all of us putting-right-what-once-went-wrong guys.

Entering the scene quietly in a serene shimmer is our distinguished Way Station manager, the nattily attired and twinkly-eyed MR. JORDAN.

JORDAN

That’s right, darling Biff, you have anticipated me. Our mission is once again to save a soul left behind. Have you finished the scenario?

MARLEY

Just polishing up the second draft now, Mr. Jordan!

JORDAN

Now, Biff, don’t try and con me!

MARLEY

No, no, of course not, sir. I mean, Clarence and I are just going over the major plot points. We’re looking for the fork in this young fellow’s fate.

CLARENCE

Rolfe! Rolfe!

JORDAN

Down, boy. Good Clarence. Yes, quite. Now, why would this young Austrian tenor with a dancer’s remarkable agility suddenly take up with these … I even hate the word itself. Name-callers call people names with it nowadays.

MARLEY

I know what you mean. Even Nazis call other people Nazis. It’s so, so …

CLARENCE

It’s so “I’m rubber and you’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks on you.”

JORDAN

Yes, in a preemptive sort of way. Exactly so. Now, sweet Biff, what are the coordinates for this past scenario we are amending?

MARLEY

We’re in Salzburg, Austria, in the last golden years of the Thirties.

CLARENCE

That’s the nineteen-thirties, sir.

JORDAN

Ah, I see. Between those two so-called World Wars. Well, if I recall my history, young men began rallying together to protest economic inequity, or something like that. Can we really blame them?

CLARENCE and MARLEY gaze at each other uncertainly and fail to answer JORDAN’s clearly rhetorical question.

JORDAN

Of course we do! Who answers being bullied by bullying everyone else? Bullies! And Cowards!

CLARENCE and MARLEY

And Nazis!

CLARENCE

Oh, my!

Drawing his lovely enormous wings around his two direct-reports, JORDAN soothes their fears and directs their attention to the images on MARLEY’s small viewer. He then sweeps his wings magically to cast the images onto a much larger cloud-view-screen-thing.

VIEW: Message-boy ROLFE arrives at the von Trapp mansion to deliver a telegram, speaking with fellow Nazi-sympathizer FRANZ the butler.

                           

BACK TO the angels conferring

MARLEY

A bit of a little-man-in-the-shadows-of-the-big-man syndrome, if you ask me. The butler and the messenger boy want to cut the Austrian Naval hero down to size, you betcha.

JORDAN

Yes, we’ve seen this situation often enough in this Way Station, haven’t we, sweet Clarence?

CLARENCE

Oh, yes. But sometimes the big men are the problems. Remember Mr. Potter? It was the little guy, our dear George Bailey, at the root of Potter’s wicked envy.

JORDAN

Yes. And in the scenario before us, the big man, again, is the problem.

CLARENCE

The Captain? But he’s the hero who saves his family and leads them to escape! How was he the problem?

JORDAN

It was he who was at the root of young Rolfe’s wicked envy. My dear Marley, if you please, let us first look at a few of young Rolfe’s exquisite production numbers, featuring von Trapp’s eldest daughter, Liesl.

ROLFE (on screen)

Some people think we ought to be German, 

ROLFE (on screen)

I’ll take care of you!

MARLEY (voice-over)

A promise is a promise, Herr Rolfe.

LIESL (on screen)

I’ll depend on you!

MARLEY (voice-over)

After all, he is all grown up at seventeen going on eighteen, right, Liesl?

CLARENCE (voice-over)

Oh, what a beautiful couple they are! They just make me want to sing and dance and head for Fezziwig’s House of Brides warehouse … 

BACK TO the three angels conferring.

CLARENCE (continuing)

See, see? Didn’t I tell you? This is where they start the happily-ever-aftering, isn’t it?

MARLEY

This is still only Act One, you stoo--

JORDAN

Now Biff. Language!

MARLEY presses a few buttons futilely trying to fast-forward the cloud-screen image.

JORDAN (with a sweep of his magnificent wings)

Oh, never mind.

On the big SCREEN: ROLFE confronts CAPTAIN VON TRAPP at the convent.

VON TRAPP (voice on screen)

Come away with us!

ROLFE (voice on screen)

“I’ll kill you!”

                                       

VON TRAPP (voice on screen)

You’ll never be one of them.

FREEZE briefly on ROLFE’s reaction, then BACK TO the angels

JORDAN, MARLEY, and CLARENCE, as one:

Stop! 

JORDAN

I believe we’re there. The crucial moment. Young Rolfe is disarmed and humiliated by the “big man” his friends call the enemy.

CLARENCE

Why was the Captain so nasty?

MARLEY

Derisive? Disdainful? 

JORDAN

We don’t know. But we must undo the damage, or young Rolfe is lost to us forever.

MARLEY

He should have stopped at “Come away with us.”

JORDAN

I know, right? 

CLARENCE

Is this where I quantum-leap in to somebody? Oh, oh, can I be the Mother Abbess?

CLARENCE sweeps his smaller-than-JORDAN’s wings across the cloud-viewer to show who he means, with a CUT there-to

:

CLARENCE (voice-over)

Shouldn’t she be the one singing to Rolfe, so he can climb that mountain at the end with the von Trapps?

BACK TO the angels

MARLEY

I could go. I know who needs to put right what once went wrong.

JORDAN

I’m sure you do, darling Biff, but I need you here for now. Our sweet Clarence can handle this. He is more, oh what’s the word. Romantic.

JORDAN sweeps his magical angelic wings and, with thunder and lightning and other grand effects, CLARENCE leaps into the convent rooftop where LIESL recognizes ROLFE

EXT. Convent roof top. Night.

CLARENCE (as LIESL)

It’s Rolfe! Father, please, will you let me handle this? He is my would-be boyfriend, after all!

CLARENCE (as LIESL, continuing)

Rolfe, please! Come away with us! We need you! You promised, remember? You’ll take care of me! I’ll depend on you!

ROLFE

I’ll … I’ll kill you!

CLARENCE (as LIESL)

But don’t you want to join our new act? We need your clear, bright tenor voice! Especially with Kurt just about to hit that voice-destroying teenager thing.

While ROLFE struggles with his conscience, the von TRAPPS escape. The LIEUTENANT enters to find out what’s keeping ROLFE from the rest of the storm-troopers. Er, the Nazis.

ROLFE

Run, Liesl, run!

CLARENCE looks heavenward for guidance

JORDAN (voice-over)

Run, Clarence, run!

CLARENCE dissolves away and real LIESL exits, running

CUT TO: Ext. The mountains to Switzerland. Day

A single RIFLE SHOT is heard in the far distance, stopping LIESL cold.

BACK TO: 

EXT. WAY STATION. Day or night or whatever. It's cloudy up there..

CLARENCE and MARLEY stare at the large cloud-screen as the image fades out on the von Trapps

CLARENCE

Was that shot what I thought it was? Oh golly. Those Nazis. I am so sorry, Mr. Jordan. I really thought I could save him. Poor Rolfe. What a sweet, young boy.

JORDAN

Oh, but you did save him. Because he saved the von Trapps. Don’t you see, darling? We are really only interested in souls up here. And as for you, Biff. Oh, sorry. Jacob. Mr. Jacob Marley. I have one task for you now. Please go to the waiting room and bring our friend here.

MARLEY

Right away, sir! My pleasure!

MARLEY exits and just as quickly returns with ROLFE.

JORDAN

Now my dear ones, I have one last surprise. Jacob Marley, Clarence Odbody: Your time at this Way Station has ended. You may now escort young Rolfe here up where he belongs, to join his beloved Liesl.

CLARENCE and MARLEY happily embrace each other, then JORDAN, and sweep ROLFE into their arms and, all dissolving upward into the clouds, whereto we also dissolve to the awaiting LIESL

LIESL

Wheeeee!!

FADE OUT.

Love, hosaa

And thereby we conclude our adventures of Clarence, the Wonderful Life Angel who just wanted to make everyone’s stories come out right. Me too.

Saving Three Wishes

 It’s a “It’s a Wonderful Life” Clarence fable

FADE IN.

EXT. AMONG BLUSTERY CLOUDS. NEITHER DAY NOR NIGHT.

CLARENCE the “Wonderful Life” Angel, wearing a pink-and-white-stripped apron with lacy trim, sweeps amongst the clouds, which swirl tormentingly but never really shift. He hums a cheeringly earnest rendition of “My Grown-up Christmas List.”

MR. JORDAN, the suave, nattily attired head of the ethereal betwixt-and-between station, streams in noiselessly while studying the contents of some directives on a clipboard. CLARENCE dances to one side to avoid collision.

CLARENCE

I apologize profusely, Mr. Jordan, but I don’t seem to be getting anywhere with this tidying up you requested.

JORDAN

Oh, that’s all right. I suppose She’s seen worse. She’s done worse.

CLARENCE

I’ve never actually met Her before. Um, how do we address Her? I wouldn’t want to cause offense.

JORDAN (hesitant)

I’m not sure I understand you. We’ll actually have two prominent guests to accommodate presently. The first, I’m sure you’re very familiar with. (GUST of wind blows CLARENCE and JORDAN about like milkweed in a spring storm.) I see She is incoming now.

CLARENCE

Mother! Sweet forbidding forgiving Mother Nature!

CLARENCE and JORDAN bow reverently as the indomitable Supreme Earthly MAMA sweeps in majestically. Our view is completely dominated by this mighty wind. Er, entity.

MAMA

You called.

JORDAN (mystified; checks the clipboard)

I beg your pardon, Madam, I don’t seem to have the correct ….

MAMA

Not you! Her!

HOSAA (off-stage)

aaaah-  aaaah-

JORDAN

Oh yes, I see. Her directives. It seems she has been under the weather.

JACOB "BIFF" MARLEY (appearing through the clouds at his usual clerk’s desk, aims a giggle at Mother Earth.)

“Under” the weather. Get it? They’re all under the weather with You around.

MAMA, JORDAN, and even CLARENCE roll their eyes in perfect unison.

MAMA

I suppose she’s blaming me again.

JORDAN

Well, you did thwart her birthday trip to Florida with that hurricane. And then this Christmas cold, again, thwarting the revised plans.

MAMA

I object!

HOSAA (off-stage)

aaaah-   aaaah-

MAMA 

Is it my fault? Is it my fault? 

CLARENCE

Could have been the housework. You know how germs build up down there. They get dislodged when someone tries to clean without a mask and they breathe in the gunk.

MAMA (haughtily)

My microbes aren’t “gunk.” But of course you are right. We give them tools, those fools. But still they mess with Mother Nature!

Thunder and lightning strike around MAMA’s indictment.

MAMA

Now what do you want?

HOSAA (off-stage)

aaaah- aaaah-

MAMA

Never mind.

MR. JORDAN finishes flipping through the pages on the clipboard and tucks it under his arm.

JORDAN 

Ah. Oh, no, not that. What I mean is, I believe I may be able to illuminate the situation. We have a case I believe is known as unrealized potentiality. Our Great Author (eyes briefly but reverently turned upwards) has endowed Ms. Hosaa with a great gift, that of authorial omnipotence, which she has thus far failed to deploy. I suspect that she has come to a decision?

HOSAA

CLARENCE

Or, perhaps, is still needing the assistance of a handy guardian angel?

BIFF MARLEY (from his corner desk)

We already gave her one!

MAMA nods approvingly at BIFF MARLEY, who beams with the appreciation. 

MAMA (fading out)

I see you have things under control. That’s all I meant. I’m not the omniscient, omnipotent one in the Family. And they all have powers they never use. Or at least never use appropriately. See ya.

MAMA has left the station. MR. JORDAN and CLARENCE approach BIFF MARLEY’s desk for conference. BIFF removes a dusty volume from a rickety bookshelf. He flips through the book’s yellowed and crumbling pages.

BIFF MARLEY

Before digital. Sorry.

HOSAA (off-stage)

aaaah-  aaaah-

As though by magic (you know where we are, right?) scenes from the dusty book appear across the handy Cloud-o-scope monitor. We see a young, scruffy American female with easy and relaxed manners greeting, of all people, a severely stiff-necked and proper English butler. He is there to serve her every need, which she is convinced she doesn’t need. They face each other off indignantly.

Edward Duke, as prototype for "Perry"

CLARENCE

Oh, yes, I remember these two! Our sweet little Ms. Hosaa down there, with all her authorial omnipotence, writes a cute mismatched boy-meets-girl story. Joy and Perry, right?

BIFF MARLEY

They had a happy-ever-after, but the story went nowhere. 

MR. JORDAN (addressing some unseen entity)

Unpublished? There are tools for that, surely?

BIFF MARLEY (flipping through the book’s pages toward the end)

It wasn’t the ending. Look at all these blank pages!

CLARENCE

But surely young Joy and her guardian angel Perry had more adventures to seek, more tales to tell, more conversations we all could enjoy and benefit from!

HOSAA

CLARENCE

The heroine treated her perfect English butler like a roommate. It’s like being given Aladdin’s lamp and all three beautiful wishes, and then setting it aside on a broken-down bookshelf.

BIFF MARLEY

I’ll fix the bookshelf, I just need the tools!

JORDAN (checking the clipboard again)

I think I understand something now. This Ms. Hosaa also stopped wishing for things when she blew out her birthday candles!

HOSAA (off-stage)

Couldn’t think of anything.

JORDAN (smiling knowingly and lovingly)

If the genie grants all the wishes, the genie goes away. Our author fell in love with her own hero! If she finished the story, he’d disappear!

BIFF MARLEY smiles as he closes the unfinished story and replaces the book on the shelf.

CLARENCE

Well that certainly keeps one guardian angel in full employment! Bless you both, my dear!

HOSAA (off-stage)

-chooooooooooooooo!

FADE OUT.

Love,

hosaa, wish-saving

Catch up with "Clarence" (2021) in "Saving Anybodys, or: Forget Americans in Paris"

The "Clarence" oeuvre:

2013: Saving Mr. Potter
2014: Christmas Belle, or Saving Miss Fezziwig
2015: Saving Mr. Sawyer
2016: Saving Mr. Jordan
2017: Saving “Big” Susan
2018: Saving Miss Gulch
2019: How Now, Voyager? Or, Saving Dr. Jaquith
2020: My Fair Freddy, or Saving Pygmalion

Saving Anybodys, or: Forget Americans in Paris

 Another Clarence the “Wonderful Life” Angel Adventure

FADE IN.

EXT. Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high. Neither day nor night, yet both.

It’s a cloudy day at our heavenly way station, where we see an elegant, brilliantly lighted stairway emerging from below. Thankfully we’re in color—you know, 1950s movie musicals style, saturated primary colors and all.

Presently, a recently deceased yet vibrantly alive BILLIE HOLIDAY ascends the stairs and is greeted by MR. JORDAN (color version) and CLARENCE (carefully colorized, and not by Mr. Ted Turner’s ham-handed coloring team).

BILLIE (wearily) 
You people should put in an escalator.

CLARENCE (sniffing the gardenia in BILLIE’s hair, mesmerized)
Miss Holiday, it is an honor to greet you. I missed the performance, sadly, but I am here to escort you to the Winging Room.

BILLIE
It was only one song. I’m glad it worked. Thank you for letting me get to Paris first. … “Winging Room”?

JORDAN
If I may clarify, and offer my congratulations and gratitude: You have earned your wings, Miss Holiday!

CLARENCE
And on your very first mission! I can’t tell you how many tries it took me. (He twirls to show off his own wings, as BILLIE admires his glamorousness.)

GHOST OF JACOB “BIFF” MARLEY (off-stage)
He can’t count that high.

JORDAN
Miss Holiday, we were honored to let you fetch the special treasure from your friend in Paris, and we are satisfied you delivered it to the appropriate recipient.

BILLIE
She’ll do. Or he. “Them.” I think Lester would have been pleased.

CLARENCE
I’m so sorry I missed the show. Darling Mr. Jordan, can we please have a rewind?

MR. JORDAN sweeps his gigantic angel wings gently across the Cloud-o-scope, as he, BILLIE, and CLARENCE gather around.

BILLIE
Could somebody get a lady a chair?

BIFF MARLEY scoots a powder-puff settee up for BILLIE; she cozies herself onto it as the others watch the recap of her successful mission. On the Cloud-o-scope the scene dissolves to:

INT. Doc’s Candy Store on Manhattan’s West Side, 1959. A hot early summer night.

The SHARKS and the JETS have concluded their war council, which has been interrupted by the overbearing LT. SCHRANK, a mean-spirited bigot, a nasty snot of a cop.

JORDAN (voice-over)
No, we’re not here for him. Some other time, perhaps.

As the SHARKS leave the candy shop, whistling “My Country ’Tis of Thee,” leader BERNARDO gives one last look toward Jets leader RIFF, who returns his glance sympathetically. They both know it’s SCHRANK and his ilk that is their common enemy.

The scene fast-forwards on the Cloud-o-vision, and SCHRANK has left. The JETS are quiet, angry, reflective. The door opens presently and ANYBODYS pokes her head in to see if she is welcome. Treated by the world as a girl, ANYBODYS yearns to be accepted as one of the Jets; so far, the only Jet who accepts her as such is ICE, who is RIFF’s deputy and the Jets’ single-combat warrior.

ANYBODYS catches ICE’s eye, silently asking permission to enter. ICE turns to silently ask RIFF; RIFF nods. ICE turns back to ANYBODYS and nods his head, gesturing “Come on in.” She goes to the jukebox, and ICE tosses her a quarter.

ANYBODYS (thrilled)

Thanks, Daddy-o!

ANYBODYS puts the quarter in the machine, and the sweet sound of a Billie Holiday record is heard, “God Bless the Child.”

Drawn in by the sad, gentle music, the remainder of the Jets’ GIRLS return to the candy store and take their places by their boyfriends.

A sudden gust of wind blows the candy store door wide open; dazzling blue light surrounds the arriving angel BILLIE HOLIDAY. She’s swathed in the loveliest white feathers and furs that Heaven allows. All the very stunned JETS stare at her in shock.

BILLIE (laughing heartily)
What’s the matter, children? Ain’t you never seen a real Lady before? I thought I heard me singing.

BILLIE listens to her song and joins ANYBODYS at the jukebox.

BILLIE
What’s a matter, baby? Feelin’ left out again?

ANYBODYS
How would you know?

BILLIE
I know. I know. But you don’t know. You don’t know feelin’ left out till you can’t eat in the same club with your band, even if your name is on the ticket. Can’t even go to the bathroom. You don’t know. (She turns to the Jets, fiercely.) None of you know nothin’. (Jets continue staring. She laughs.) Ain’t none of you even been to Harlem?

ANYBODYS
I have.

BILLIE
I know, baby.

BILLIE whisks out of the folds of her grand furs the treasure she had just picked up in Paris. It is her late friend Lester Young’s saxophone.

CLARENCE (voice-over)
Is that what I think it is? Isn’t that what Joe Pendleton used to carry with him here?

JORDAN (voice-over)
No, not Joe’s. This belonged to the great tenor saxophonist, the late Lester Young. He’s now playing a command performance for … you know who.

The candy shop has now become crowded, not just with the JETS and their girls, but also the returning SHARKS and girls.

BILLIE (handing the instrument to ANYBODYS)
Here, baby. We know you’ve been practicin’ when nobody can hear Anybody. We know you can blow. There’s a hole in a band up the street. You go fill it.

BILLIE eyes ANYBODYS’ attire and looks around the room. ICE gets the hint and takes off his jacket, giving it to ANYBODYS. BILLIE shoos ANYBODYS out the door.

BILLIE
Go play. Go make us sad we couldn’t hear you.

JETS and SHARKS all applaud and cheer as ANYBODYS hurries out with the saxophone. BILLIE disappears in a bright blue cloud of heavenly mist and we return to:

EXT. Way station. Dusk or dawn, twilighty time.

JORDAN
I like that. It works. Well done, dear Miss Billie! Well done!

BILLIE
Thank you. I did have a little trouble in Paris, though—besides just wanting to stay and jam with my best men. You said I should look up Gerry Mulligan. Baritone sax, right?

JORDAN
Well, no. I can see the confusion.

CLARENCE
Yes, I thought I was assigned to Jerry Mulligan—the artist—or rather, cleaning up the mess he left behind in Paris.

BILLIE
Artist? Never heard of him.

JORDAN
American GI, went off to Paris after the War to become a painter. Not much of an artist, but a decent illustrator. He did rather miss the big picture, art-movement-wise. We needed to bring him back to New York. Imagine, imitating Toulouse-Lautrec and Matisse in an era of Pollock and de Kooning. And Helen Frankenthaler!

BILLIE, CLARENCE, JORDAN, and even BIFF MARLEY bow reverently.

MARLEY (waving a stack of papers)
Mr. Jordan, I was just coming to tell you, I finished the second draft. Our rewrite for “An American in Paris.”

Lise, Henri, Jerry, and Milo, about to switch partners

CLARENCE (twirling merrily)
Ah, Gershwin! I can hardly wait! Ta-da-da-deeee, da rum-pum-pum, rum-pum-pum!

BILLIE
Gershwin. The “Porgy and Bess” guy? Oh he’s not bad.

JORDAN
It wasn’t the music, of course. It wasn’t even the art, really, that needed repair. It was, as always, the souls who were left behind.

MARLEY (jumping up and down)
I know! I’ve got it! Please, oh please Mr. Jordan? I never get to do anything but snarky voice-overs.

BILLIE
Yes, let him read it. I’m tired. Let’s all just listen.

MARLEY (reading his manuscript)
And Hosaa has written: “Brokenhearted Henri has let his dear little fiancee, Lise, off at the entrance of the art students’ ball, where she runs up the stairs to meet Jerry—

BILLIE
“Stairway to Paradise”! Ha ha! I get it. I still think you people need escalators.

MARLEY
Ahem. “Jerry, the young American painter she has fallen in love with. And Jerry has left his brokenhearted so-called sponsor, American suntan-oil heiress Milo, in the arms of his friend, piano prodigy Adam Cook—

BILLIE (aside)
Played by well-known psychochondriac Oscar Levant. Now he was a good connection in Paris.

MARLEY (continues reading)
“Henri’s taxi bumps into Milo’s limo as the two brokenhearted castoffs leave the art students’ ball.

“Jerry Mulligan (not Gerry, the baritone sax player and band leader) and Lise (played by a bouquet of heavily scented cut flowers in the ballet dream sequence) realize the center of the art universe had actually moved to Greenwich Village by 1951.

“Unable to surrender his dreamy idealized realism, Jerry can only get work as an illustrator for an ad firm, whose major client is Milo's suntan oil company. Lise, schooled only in the poetry books Henri lent her while she was in hiding during the war, becomes a copywriter for the same ad firm. They live in New Jersey and raise three nice but not exceptionally bright children who never bother anyone.

“Meanwhile, Milo and Henri fuse their broken hearts into a glowing, passionate romance, warmed by the feeling of being wanted rather than mere recipients of Jerry’s and Lise’s loveless gratitude. They settle in New York, where Henri becomes a cabaret star and Milo continues to run her company.

“Adam composes a wedding serenade for Milo and Henri that is recorded by every vocalist from Broadway to L.A. Unable to cope with success, Adam returns to Paris to teach piano to the kids on the street where he had once been happily miserable.” The end.

BILLIE (wistfully)
I would love to have had that song.

CLARENCE
Oh, Mr. Marley, this is a dandy righting of what went wrong! When we go down, Mr. Jordan, can I be Adam? Or is it Oscar? I always wanted to play the piano.

JORDAN
I believe that can be arranged. But first you must escort our darling Lady Day to the Winging Room. Off you go!

The stairway seen earlier now magically begins extending upward, upward through another layer of clouds. As CLARENCE wraps his own wings around BILLIE HOLIDAY, they take the first step, which lights up and starts each additional step lighting up in turn. They pause as the stairway transforms into an escalator, which takes them up to the “Winging Room” somewhere in the hazy clouds above.

FADE OUT.

love, hosaa
rhapsodizing in blue

*hosaa's note: Our Mr. Jordan originally appeared in two versions: Here Comes Mr. Jordan, with Claude Rains manning the black-and-white chief angel and story fixer, famously fixing the untimely death of Joe Pendleton, and Heaven Can Wait, wherein Jordan was more colorfully portrayed by the equally dapper James Mason. 

In neither case did these Mr. Jordans have any dealings with Angel Clarence Odbody, the saver-of-suicidal George Bailey in It's a Wonderful Life, or with Jacob Marley, the Scrooge-saving ghost in A Christmas Carol. This time of year, I find, my mind wanders through many stories needing minor alterations. Or major ones. Previous rewrites are as follows:

2013: Saving Mr. Potter
2014: Christmas Belle, or Saving Miss Fezziwig
2015: Saving Mr. Sawyer
2016: Saving Mr. Jordan
2017: Saving “Big” Susan
2018: Saving Miss Gulch
2019: How Now, Voyager? Or, Saving Dr. Jaquith
2020: My Fair Freddy, or Saving Pygmalion

My Fair Freddy, or Saving Pygmalion

Another Mission for Clarence the Wonderful Life Angel

Happy endings being subjective and all, we might sometimes question the wisdom of, for example, sending a young woman of spit and spirit, such as ELIZA DOOLITTLE, back to the intolerant bully who bullied her, even though he offered to improve her future by improving her speech. We might suggest, instead, that such a woman’s future would be brighter with a blighter who adores her, such as, for example, FREDDY EYNSFORD HILL, rather than said bully, PROF. HENRY HIGGINS. 

In what universe should even a common flower girl be expected to find satisfaction fetching Higgins’s slippers? Not mine, nor Bernard Shaw’s, nor, as it happens, the corner of the universe commanded by our elegant MR. JORDAN and his chief fixer, Angel CLARENCE ODBODY, of It’s a Wonderful Life fame.

Here comes Mr. Jordan now.

FADE IN.

EXT. HEAVEN AS FLORAL ARRANGEMENT. DAY

JORDAN wanders through a cloud of blooms, a jungle of pastel mums, carnations, and assorted what-nots. At last he discovers CLARENCE, whose usual accustomed AngelWear gown is now completely covered with flowers. 

CLARENCE (brightly)

Oh what a beautiful morning, Mr. Jordan! I’m so happy to see you, and in full color once again! Living color, if you’ll pardon the expression.

JORDAN (pulling petals from his mouth)

Clarence, darling, are you sure you have the right musical?

CLARENCE blinks once or twice, conveying unfeigned ignorance.

JORDAN

Never mind. If you please, these bloomin’ blossoms are obstructing a vision I wish to share with you now.

CLARENCE (brushing blossoms from the giant cloud-screen display)

Oh yes, of course. Here we go. I was wondering what you might be calling on me for.

JORDAN

“For what you might be calling on me,” you mean.

CLARENCE blinks once or twice, conveying unfeigned ignorance.

JORDAN

Well, what I mean is, there’s a certain professor down on Earth who is meticulous about the use of the English language. He is, unfortunately, not so meticulous in his abuse of Englishmen, or Englishwomen, in this case. Please observe, dear Clarence. Meet Prof. Higgins and his recent protegee, Miss Eliza Doolittle.

CLARENCE (dreamily)

Oooh, I love that silhouette…

JORDAN

Yes, Miss Doolittle cuts a lovely figure. But you see the problem with this tableau, do you not?

CLARENCE

The hats are nice.

JORDAN

What I mean is, our Professor Pygmalion’s smug satisfaction in his student’s subservience is stultifying and egregious.

CLARENCE

I always look up the word “egregious.” 

JORDAN

I’ll try to make this simple, my dear Clarence. Young Eliza Doolittle needs a better fate and, hence, a better mate. We have had a candidate all along. Please meet Freddy—that is, Freddy Eynsford Hill, a young man of good breeding but little fortune and fewer ideas.

CLARENCE

Another nice hat. Is this a story about hats?

JORDAN 

Not at all. (Looking CLARENCE over) But I think we’re going to have to alter our travel arrangements this time. Are you at all familiar with quantum leaping? 

CLARENCE blinks once or twice, conveying unfeigned ignorance.

JORDAN

No, of course not. Well, rather than squeezing you into a suit of an early 20th century vintage, we will simply transfer your essence into an individual who is already on the premises, one who is trusted by all our principal characters. It will be you who is there, but he who they’ll see. 

CLARENCE (brightly)

Him whom they’ll see?

JORDAN

I’m not sure. Let’s move on.

JORDAN waves his enormous AngelWings, sparking a series of sparkly blue bolts of lightning. CLARENCE dissolves into the form of COL. PICKERING, and we are in:

INT. HIGGINS’S STUDY. DAY.

CLARENCE as PICKERING sits at a desk with telephone and some papers.

JORDAN (voice-over)

Remember your mission, darling Clarence, er—Col. Pickering. You must deliver a much happier future for Eliza.

CLARENCE/PICKERING

Righty-oh, boss! 

CLARENCE glances through the papers on the desk, looking for anything that might be useful, such as  an owner’s manual for operating the strange instrument that used to be known as a telephone. ELIZA wanders into the room, forlorn.

ELIZA

Hello, Col. Pickering. I’ve— I’ve come back, but I’m not certain why. He’ll never change, will he?

CLARENCE/PICKERING

Who, Higgins? Why, I suspect not. Confirmed old bachelor, as he has said so often. Good man, though, at heart. Brilliant, of course. And generous—

ELIZA

Generous with his rude ways, you mean. I’ve been a friend to him, though, as you have, haven’t I? Done his bidding, fetched his slippers, slipped a sly one on the dukes and duchesses and such. Not a kind or friendly word out of him. (Exasperated) Oh, why can’t a man be more like a woman? Return a favor, offer a hand?

CLARENCE/PICKERING

My dear, there there. May I ask a simple, or even simple-minded question?

ELIZA

Do you mean: What do I want?

CLARENCE/PICKERING (picking up the telephone receiver) 

I mean: What the Dickens is this thing, and how does one operate it?

ELIZA chuckles indulgently and helps CLARENCE sort through a telephone directory in search of a phone number.

HIGGINS enters, catching ELIZA in her moment of usefulness.

HIGGINS

There, you see, Eliza? You have become an essential part of this household. Or at least essential to Pickering here. You are needed. Isn’t that something? Stay and work for us! There now. 

ELIZA (to CLARENCE)

And is that what I want? To be needed?

CLARENCE/PICKERING

Oooh, oooh, I got this! What you need is to be wanted. Amma right?

HIGGINS

Well isn’t that just what I’ve been saying? Eliza, you’re a fool.

ELIZA (mildly mimicking)

Henry, you’re the fool.

HIGGINS, stunned at the girl’s addressing him by his first name, turns to PICKERING for reinforcement.

CLARENCE/PICKERING

I’m afraid I must agree, Higgins. Now where is that number. This place is absolutely desolate without flowers. We must have masses of bouquets and speedy deliveries.

ELIZA

I could go and pick them out myself at the markets in Covent Garden. And I know all the best nurserymen. Do we have space in the courtyard to plant bulbs, d’ya think?

HIGGINS eyes Eliza’s business-like activity with satisfaction. A KNOCK is heard at the door.

HIGGINS

Who the Devil is making that irritating racket?

CLARENCE/PICKERING (scolding)

Higgins! Language!

HIGGINS 

All right, who the Dickens is making that irritating racket? 

ELIZA

I’ll get it. 

ELIZA goes to the front door and opens it a crack.

ELIZA

There now, can’t you read the sign? “Knocker out of order. Please ring bell.”

SHE shuts the door sharply; the doorbell sounds, and she opens it to reveal FREDDY EYNSFORD HILL.

FREDDY steps into the foyer, dripping wet with rain. Upon seeing ELIZA, he tips his hat and spills a gush of water onto her.

ELIZA (reverting to flower-girl-speak)

Owwww, moynd yo’ weather, Dear! 

HIGGINS (sniggering)

Speaking of fools!

CLARENCE rushes to ELIZA’s aid with a large bath towel that has mysteriously appeared in his hand.

CLARENCE/PICKERING

Oh, thank you, Mr. Jordan. Here you are, my dear. Please go upstairs, back to your old room, eh? Come down again when you’ve dried yourself off.

ELIZA rushes upstairs. FREDDY’s eyes follow her in a dreamy daze.

FREDDY

She called me “Dear”! And, she sounded so familiar just then. I’m having that, oh, whatcha-call-it sensation.

HIGGINS

Deja vu?

CLARENCE/PICKERING

Bless you.

FREDDY

I came ’round in hope of finding Miss Doolittle’s address, and here she is in your kind hands. 

CLARENCE/PICKERING

And we were just thinking of calling you! Small world, small world.

FREDDY

Now that I find you two gentlemen together, I wonder if I might have a moment of your ... uh, each of your ... uh, times.

HIGGINS

We’re in hard times indeed with speakers of our noble language. I can only assume you’ve come for English lessons at Eliza’s recommendation. Well come in, then. Don’t leave a water stain on the rugs.

HIGGINS, CLARENCE, and FREDDY return to the study. HIGGINS begins pouring out port from a large lead-glass carafe; FREDDY takes his while CLARENCE looks up to Heaven for approval before eschewing his share of the port. HIGGINS takes a sincerely fortifying gulp and refills his glass while FREDDY fidgets.

FREDDY

Col. Pickering, Prof. Higgins. You both have been so lucky as to have earned the high regard of my divine angel, Miss Doolittle. Might you tell me the secret to winning her heart? I would so wish for her to return my adoration and consent to be my wife. I'm not nearly worthy of her, I am such a clumsy fool. And I have no income, resources, skills, ambitions, talent, or even ideas. I am connected, however. Surely good connections may be deemed of some worth?

HIGGINS

Eliza doesn't belong to me, you know. She is free to go her own way, just as I am free to kick her out on her floral bouquets. Exactly what do you want of me and Pickering? 

CLARENCE/PICKERING

Ooooh, oooh, I know. Pick me!

FREDDY

Colonel?

CLARENCE/PICKERING

Well, Eliza already knows how much you want her. You have written her many letters on the subject, I believe.

FREDDY

Every day! Sheets and sheets!

CLARENCE/PICKERING (glancing at stacks of paper on the desk)

Just so.

HIGGINS

I see where this is going. Yes, Pickering is quite right.

FREDDY blinks his eyes once or twice, conveying unfeigned ignorance.

HIGGINS

In order for Eliza to want you, you must show her that you need her.

CLARENCE/PICKERING

Yes, indeed, and you hit on all those points just a moment ago.

FREDDY blinks his eyes once or twice, conveying unfeigned ignorance.

HIGGINS

What do you really need to assure your own happy future? In other words, what don’t you already have that Eliza, as your wife, would provide? [Beat] I see we’re going to have to slow-walk this one, Pickering.

ELIZA enters the room to complete the slow-walk instruction.

ELIZA (gently)

They mean “income, resources, skills, ambitions, talent, and ideas,” Freddy. I have all those things, I believe, except for income, which neither of us has in hand. Your connections in good society could give us a wonderful start in life.

FREDDY (nearly swooning)

You said “us”!

CLARENCE/PICKERING

Twice! Miss Doolittle, are you thinking about that flower shop idea we discussed in Act II? About our bankrolling your becoming a lady in a shop instead of a common flower girl?

FREDDY

Common flower girl? Do you mean to say, that was you whose violets I spoiled that rainy night?

ELIZA

An ’ole day’s wages, Dear!

HIGGINS

Common my foot. Through my hard work and instruction, I have made Eliza fit for a king.

ELIZA

S’posin’ I ain’t got use for no king. But yes, Colonel. About the flower shop. I have ideas. With Freddy’s connections, we only lack—oh, what’s the word?

HIGGINS and CLARENCE/PICKERING

Capital. 

ELIZA

And a little bit of luck! And my old Dad's got that by the barrel!

FREDDY blinks once or twice, conveying unfeigned ignorance.

FREDDY 

I say, darling. Just to be clear. Are you asking me to be your—  business partner?

ELIZA

Ow, we are proud. (Laughing) I am asking you, my fair Freddy, to be my husband!

HIGGINS

By Jove, I think she’s got it!

CLARENCE/PICKERING

By Mr. Jordan, too!

FREDDY faints into ELIZA’s loving arms. HIGGINS and CLARENCE/PICKERING tango around the room.

The scene DISSOLVES TO:

EXT. STOREFRONT. DAY

Signage on the storefront indicates that the busy floral shop ELIZA and FREDDY now own and operate is named BLOOMIN’ LOVERLY. 

Further signage elaborates that the establishment serves the floral catering needs for London’s society weddings, inaugurations, concerts, receptions, balls, bar mitzvahs, quinceañeras, gender reveal parties, coronations, etc.

Through the storefront window, ELIZA can be seen advising a well-heeled (and hatted) client. Through a window upstairs, FREDDY can be seen rocking a baby in its crib.

FADE OUT.

---

Author’s note: Previous Clarence adventures may be perused by following the following links.

2013: Saving Mr. Potter

2014: Christmas Belle, or Saving Miss Fezziwig

2015: Saving Mr. Sawyer

2016: Saving Mr. Jordan

2017: Saving “Big” Susan

2018: Saving Miss Gulch

2019: How Now, Voyager? Or, Saving Dr. Jaquith

Happy end-saving! 

Love, hosaa