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From Romania to France
via America Novels ¥ La Traversee du Styx
(Recrossing the Styx) Plays:
a Tragedy, a Comedy, a Farce & a Highly Controversial Sequel ¥ Flush Game,
or the Gospel According to Henry Miller ¥ Beyond The Styx
Nightingales DonÕt Sing |
PLAYBOYS OF
OUR LADY ACT
I Scene
1 (Summer evening) MomÕs living room. Stage
left: front door, fireplace, coffee table, sofa, couch, TV. Center stage:
bedroom door, stairway, desk, birdcage, clock, stereo. Stage right: window,
dining table, chairs, kitchen, upstage door. Oriental paintings and artifacts
hang on the walls. Enter Mom carrying a bag
of groceries. She tosses her purse and the mail on the coffee table, deposits
the bag in the kitchen, returns with a glass of orange juice, sits on the
sofa, gazes at the clock, reads mail and falls asleep. Angela creeps in
through the kitchen door. She looks circumspectly around. Because of the
sofa's position, she doesnÕt see Mom. She goes to the cage, pets the parakeet
and babytalks to it, the noise waking up Mom. ANGELA: Sorry, Mom, I didn't
realize you were sleeping. I just came to see my parakeet and look up some
pictures. I guess the pictures can wait. Goodbye. (She heads for the front
door.) MOM: Don't go yet. I didn't
plan on napping anyway. I'm glad you came. How are you? ANGELA: (Stiffly.) Fine. MOM: You look like a cover
girl. You must be worshipping your job in Bon's ladies' department store. ANGELA: I hate it! I feel
like a dummy with that plastic smile on my face. MOM: No, no, dear. Your smile
is more charming than a dummy's, believe me. I heard you made an excellent
impression in the store's fashion show last month. I would have died to see
you. Why didn't you tell me? ANGELA: I thought you were
busy looking after your refugees. MOM: True, but you must
remember that I can always make time for my daughter. (Awkward pause.) Oh, I met Jack at the mall
the other day. He invited me to lunch. He talked about his dream of making it
big in Amway. Selling insurance isn't getting him anywhere, he said. Are you
planning to get serious? ANGELA: Why not? MOM: Yes, why notÉThank you
very much for the lovely Vietnamese bowl and chopsticks you sent me for my
birthday. ANGELA: They don't go on sale
very often. MOM: I missed you at my
birthday dinner. ANGELA: I was in Seattle
making a beer commercial. I was the cool bottle with a bunch of drunks in hot
pursuit. It was nice seeing you. MOM: (Going to the
kitchen.) How would you like some orange
juice? I surely can use another glass after four hours of driving. WeÕve been
having a great time up in Canada. The church that hosts us has fallen for my
kidsÕ choir. Never before have we gorged ourselves on so many rhubarb pies
and lemonade. Did you know I'd taken the kids to Canada? (She brings two glasses.
Angela does not touch hers.) ANGELA: Dad told me that you
werenÕt due for another week or so. MOM: Yes, but I came home
because... (Looking at the clock.) You'll
see why very soon. ANGELA: I have to go. MOM: What's the rush, dear? I
haven't seen you since you moved out. Was it two months ago? ANGELA: Three, mother, three!
Why do you need to see me anyway? Your family's those Cambodian and
Vietnamese kids in the choir. It wasn't enough that you made this city look
like a Chinatown, you brought them in our home to make my life and DadÕs a
living hell! MOM: Good heavens! I thought
you understood me a little better than that, but now you sound exactly like
your father. ANGELA: After turning our
house into a refugee camp? You're dreaming! MOM: Oh, dear, I wish you
hadn't moved out. It cost me a terrible headache. Please come back. Thang can
share Phang's room, so you can have your lovely room all to yourself. ANGELA: Never! As long they
are around—never! MOM: But Angela, these kids
need me! Take for instance Phang. They killed her father andÉ ANGELA: Éraped her mother.
IÕve had enough of this shit. What happened to the gooks gives you no right
to crucify us for their sake. MOM: Crucify? Even sweet
Jesus would shiver at the sound of the word! No, I didnÕt do such a thing to
you and your dad. I just couldn't leave these kids on the streets at the
mercy of rapists and child molesters. ANGELA: Bullshit! MOM: O, dear, when are you
going to have a little bit of understanding for your mother? ANGELA: On the day the
refugees are out and Dad's in. MOM: Just as simple as that? ANGELA: Yes. As a psychology
major at University of Puget Sound I find divorce and family violence the
greatest evils in our society. It's my duty to stop them. MOM: (Shaking her head.) Just remember that I always love
you—regardless of your views on divorce, the commercials you do, or the
workmanship of the chopsticks you send me for my birthdays. (The sound of a car
pulling in the driveway catches Mom's attention. She curiously peeks through
the window.) Your grandma has arrived from
the airport. She made good time. ANGELA: Why is she coming
from the airport? No more refugees, I hope? MOM: Just two, dear. They're
young men from Romania, the same country that terrific girl—what's her
name—Nadia Comanici comes from. ANGELA: I don't believe you! (Enter Grandma followed by
Doru and George, carrying suitcases. They wear casual leather jackets, blue
jeans and T-shirts with Roma and Venezia printed on them.) GRANDMA: Here they are! The
playboys of the Eastern World! Aren't they cute? MOM: Yes, indeed. You made
good time. Did you race against those teenagers again? GRANDMA: Couldn't find any.
Your time was wrong. The plane arrived an hour earlier. I found them flirting
with a flight attendant in the airport bar. She bought them drinks. MOM: (To Doru and George.) Sorry I made you wait. It's my fault. By the way,
I'm Carol—your sponsor. GRANDMA: She's Mrs. Tuff, my
daughter, and I can tell you she lives up to her name. If you don't get along
with her, you're always welcome to my dacha across the road. When the rain
comes, we'll take off to San Diego. I have a penthouse down there. MOM: Who's George and who's
Doru? Am I pronouncing Doru correctly? DORU: Exactly like my mother,
maÕam. Thank you for sponsoring us. (When Doru and George
speak English, they should use heavy accents, especially George. When they
speak ÒRomanian,Ó they should use no accent. Mom shakes hands with them.) GEORGE: Me George. Mad to see
you, signora. DORU: He flunked English in
school. MOM: I would have flunked it, too, if I had to
take Romanian. Oh, let me introduce you to my daughter. Angela? ANGELA: I have nothing to say
to them! (She furiously heads for
the door, halts before Doru who happens to block her way and stomps on his
foot.) DORU: OUCH! (Angela exits, slamming
the door on her way out.) GRANDMA: Well, that's what
you get when daughters are too fond of their daddies. They hurt innocent
young men. MOM: (To Doru.) I'm terribly sorry. Are you all right? DORU: Nothing to worry about,
ma'am. I won't sue her. GEORGE: (To Doru in
Romanian.) I can't understand
what's so interesting about a woman's eyes. Concentrate on her legs, mister.
That's where all the fun and hurt come from. DORU: I got carried away.
Can hardly wait for her next visit. GEORGE: What do you have
in mind? A dangerous liaison? GRANDMA: Isn't their language
as cute as they are? MOM: Makes you wish you could
speak it. So, Doru and George, welcome to America. I wish you good luck and
hope you'll pay back your airplane ticket. Helps reduce the national deficit. DORU: Thank you, ma'am. I'll
make a note in my diary. GEORGE: Sorry, ma'am. No
diary. MOM: Don't worry. I'll remind
you. Please sit down. (They sit on the sofa.) GRANDMA: May I? (She sits between them.) MOM: Perhaps Mother mentioned
that I've been sponsoring refugees for years, but you're the first Europeans
so far. Please be aware that I share my house with two Cambodian girls and
three Vietnamese boys. I'm sure you'll get along just fine if you eat your
rice and wash your own dishes. DORU: We'll do our best,
ma'am. Where are they? MOM: Enjoying summer in
Canada. Would you like some orange juice? GEORGE: (Taking out a
bottle.) Forget juice. Here Italian
champagne speciale for the lady
of our Lady! MOM: What lady did you say? DORU: Metaphorically
speaking, youÕre an extension of the Lady with the torch. When we arrived in
New York, we drank our first bottle to her health. MOM: I see. GRANDMA: Shall I get the
glasses? MOM: No. George, I'm
flattered by your enthusiasm to drink to the health of your ladies, but this
is an alcohol-free house. Sorry. (She goes to the kitchen.) GRANDMA: See what you get
coming to a country fathered by pilgrims! Don't panic, we'll celebrate later.
In my dacha vice is a virtue. (Mom returns, bearing a
tray with glasses of orange juice.) MOM: (To Grandma.) I heard that! Here is the juice. (Doru and George help
themselves to the juice.) By the way, are you hungry? GRANDMA: We made a quick stop
at McDonaldÕs. MOM: Now you know what
America tastes like. How's the juice? GEORGE: This bottle cost
me as much as a night with Ciociolina, and now I'm drinking this yellow piss! MOM: What did he say? DORU: He said he's never
tasted a better juice. Is it hand-squeezed? MOM: It's handpicked from the
store. (George nervously takes
out a pack of cigarettes and is about to light one. Mom takes the cigarette
from his lips and puts it back into the pack.) MOM: Oh, dear, you didn't
come to this country to become a poster boy for The American Lung
Association, did you? GEORGE: I can't even
smoke! Man, I don't think my shoes will get too much wear in this monastery. MOM: Is he mad at me? DORU: Not at all. He said
that this is a great opportunity for him to quit because he's been trying for
a very long time. (George nods miserably.
Pause.) MOM: Tell me about your
country. How do the communists treat the people? DORU: Better than Stalin used
to. They don't let them die, but they don't let them live either. MOM: It sounds like our
healthcare system. GRANDMA: Tell my daughter how
you escaped. It's out of a James Bond movie! MOM: LetÕs hear. DORU: (To George.) They want to know about your escape. GEORGE: You tell them. I'm
not used to talking dry. DORU: George used to work
near the Yugoslavian border where the Danube is narrow and the patrol boats
are watching. Swimming across is either suicide or jail. One needs something
faster than the patrol boats. So, George has this great idea. He attaches an
oxygen tube to a canoe. He opens the valve and gets to the other side before
you can say holy shit! (Mom coughs. George jerks
his hand, whistling like a jet engine.) MOM: That was really
ingenious. GRANDMA: Instant fame if National
Enquirer finds out. MOM: A minor suggestion if I
may. Holy smoke sounds better. What about your escape? DORU: Imagine breaking a
swimming record as to avoid being run over by a barge, without getting a
medal for it! MOM: What did you do in
Romania? DORU: I was a flyboy in a
military school. MOM: Do you plan to go back
to aviation? DORU: If it's possible. GRANDMA: Of course it is.
Lots of things are possible in this country if you sleep in the right places.
(Mom gives Grandma a
reprimanding glare.) MOM: We have a university in
town. My daughter studies psychology there. But in her spare time she does
beer commercials. DORU: Too bad she had to
leave. I would have liked to discuss the differences between communist and
capitalist psychology. GRANDMA: You can discuss them
with me. You see I'm very good in psychology—better than Freud,
actually. He said that we seek pleasure and avoid pain, but the truth is,
despite two hundred years of democracy, we still prefer bondage. (She pushes George's head
in her bosom. George manifests respiratory problems.) Bondage bliss! Feel the
pleasure of pain! MOM: Mother! (George leaves the couch.)
Her psychology is based on an
excessive amount of hormones. GRANDMA: Thank God for the
excess! (Pause.) MOM: George, what are you
going to do in America? GEORGE: (Looking through
the window.) Like to mix cars and be my
own thief. Is that garbage? MOM: No, it's a garage. What did you mean before
that? DORU: He wants to fix cars
and be his own chief. GRANDMA: That would be great,
George. Why don't you start first with the back seat in my Mustang? The
springs squeak badly. MOM: Mother, sit down! GRANDMA: I can't sit down too
long. My doctor said to do a lot of exercise if I want to look this good. MOM: Then behave! (Grandma makes faces
behind Mom's back.) MOM: What did you guys do in
the refugee camp? DORU: Mainly worked and
studied English. GRANDMA: What did you do with
the money, George? GEORGE: Spent all.
Italy—uno paradiso! GRANDMA: I know what you
mean. DORU: We almost lost hope
coming to America, after nearly two years of waiting for a sponsor. MOM: Immigration contacted me
only a month ago. DORU: They must have taken
their time. In the meantime we wandered through Europe looking for a home. No
luck. MOM: Did you get passports? DORU: No. But this didnÕt stop us from traveling. Except
for the Romanian border, all others were piece of cake. We have a present for
you. (He opens his suitcase and
takes out a framed picture with a small gondola on a Venice background.) MOM: It's marvelous! GEORGE: Not made in Taiwan.
Couldn't fool me. GRANDMA: My next honeymoon is
going to be in Venice for sure! DORU: Sorry, we have no
present for you. We didn't expect to run into a grandma. GRANDMA: That's all right,
but you should have known by now that grannies are the best honeymooners. GEORGE: (Displaying
pictures on the table.) Want to see some? MOM: I'd love to, but itÕs
been a long day. Some other time. GRANDMA: (Looking at
pictures.) Who's that bimbo in high
heels? Your girlfriend? GEORGE: Yes. She very
expensive. GRANDMA: What a pity! Oh,
dear, you'll be amazed how many things are free in this country. (To Mom.) I'm taking them over my place. I still have lots
of questions to ask them. (Discreetly to George.) Don't forget the champagne. MOM: Don't keep them too
late. They must be tired after such a long trip. GEORGE: Me never tired! GRANDMA (Squealing.) Ah! MOM: (To Doru and George.) Let me show you to your room first. GRANDMA: Don't bother. They
can spend the night over my place. (To Doru and George.) Do
you like waterbeds? I have a king size! MOM: Mother, I want them back
by ten o'clock! GRANDMA: I wouldn't bet on
it. You know what accents do to me. DORU: What? MOM: She left my father for
an Italian pantyhose executive she met in Hawaii. GRANDMA: Italians sure know
how to treat women. Your father was as exciting as those washed out at
Plymouth Rock. I'm glad he divorced me, otherwise I would have done it
myself! (Exit Mom outraged,
followed by Doru and George. Grandma arranges her hair in the mirror.) GRANDMA:
In spite of my daughter's misguided morality, I must acquaint at least one of
these playboys with my own theory about pleasure and pain. If Freud had known
me, the id would have been much complex... (Blackout.) |