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lBad,frws
October-November ry85
Scene r
Tbe last doyt of October. Rabbi Isidor Cbetneluitz alone
onstage witlt a small cofin. It is a rougb pine box zuith tzoo
anooden pegs, one at thefoot and one at the head, holding the
lid in place. A prayr shawl embroidered utith a Star ofDaoid
is draped oser tbe lid, and fu tbe head a larzheit candle is
burning.
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ANcrrs rn Aurntca
MtlLnNNIul,r Aprnoecrres
Luke and Eric. (Loofrs more closely at paper) Eric?This is a
that place and this one you cross. Every day. You under-
Jewish namel (Shrugs)Eric. A targ. rnà twing family. We
assemble that we may mourn collectively stand meì In you that journey is.
tt i, gooà ,rd
righteous woman. So...
(I{e looks at the cofin) She was the last of the Mohicans, this one was. Pretty
This woman. I did not know this woman. soon . . . all the old will be dead.
I cannot
accurately describe her attributes, nor
do justice to her
dimensions. She was. . . . Well, in the
Bronx Home of
Aged Hebrews are many like this, the olcl,
and to many I
speak but not to be frank with this Scene z
one. She preferred
silence. So I do not know her and yet
I know her. She Same day. Roy andJoe in
was,.. Roy's ffice. Roy at an impressiae
(He touches the cofin) desk, bare exceptfor a aery elaborate phone system, rotas and
. . . not a person but a whole kind ofperson, rotos offasbing buttons uthich bhep and beep and q:bistle
the ones
who crossed the ocean, who brought *iÀ incessantly, mahing cltaotic musie underneath Roy's conver.ra-
u, to America tions.Joe is sitting, uaiting. Roy conducts business uith great
the villages of Russia and Lithuania*and
how we strug_
gled, and how we fought, for the family energy, impatience and sensual abandon: gesticulating,
for the yewiJtr sltouting, cajoling crooning, playing the pbone, receiwer and
home, so that you would not grow u
p t rrr,;nthis strange
place, in the melting pot where nothing hold button uith oirtuosity and love.
meltecl. Descen-
dants of this immigrant woman, you
do not grow up in
America, you and your children an<t their a.ov (Hitting a button):Hold,. (ToJoe) I wish I was an octopus, a
children with
the goyische names. you do not live fucking octopus. Eight loving arms and all those suckers.
in America. No such
place exists. Your clay is the clay Know what I mean?
of some Liwak shtetl,
your air the air ofthe sEppes-because ;oe:No, I...
she carried the olcl
world on her back across the ocean, in a *ov (Gesturing to a deli platter of litth sandutiches on his desk):
boat, and she put
it down on Grand Concourse Avenue, You want lunch?
or in Flatbush, and
she worked that earth into your bones,
yor: No, that's OK really I just . . .
and you pass it to
your children, this ancient, ancient .ultur. r.ov (Hitting a button): Ailene? Roy Cohn. Nowwhat kind of a
and home. greeting is. . . . I thought we were friends, Ai. . . . Look
(Little pause)
You can never make that crossing that Mrs. Soffer you dont have to get. . . . You're upset.
she made, for
such Great Voyages in this wodd You're yelling. You'll aggravate your condition, you
do not any more exist.
But every day ofyour lives the miles shouldnt yell, you'll pop little blood vessels in your face if
that vofage between
you yell. . . . No that was a joke, Mrs. Soffer, I was
t6
t7
Anrcrrs rrq Anrnnrca
Mr LLaNNrur{ Appnoacn es
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2l
ANcrrs rn AlrnRrca MTLLSNNTuM APPnoecnBs
;on: Roy, itt incredibly exciting . . . safety for life itself But everywhere, things are collapsing,
nov: And it would mean something to me. you understand?
lies surfacing' systems of defense giving rÀray' ' ' ' This is
why, Joe, this is why I shouldnt be left alone'
(Little pause.) (Little pause)
I d like to go traveling. Leave you behind to worry' I'11
;or: I . . . cant say how much I appreciate this Roy, I'm sort send postcards with strange stamps and tantalizing mes-
of. . .well,stunned,Imean.. . . Thanks, Roy Butlhave sages on the back. "Latet maybe." "Nevermore ' ' '"
to give it some thought. I have to ask my wife.
Roy: Your wife. Of course.
;oe: But I really appreciate . . .
(Mr. Lies, a trauel agent, aPPears.)
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ANcrls nr.AurRrce
Mrlrnunruu Appnoecnrs
get to me, Joe stays away and norM,
. . . Well look. My
dreams are talking back to me. 1or: Nothing to get anxious about.
MR. Lrr.,s: It's the price of rootlessness. So. So how'd you like to move to Washington?
Motion sickness. The
only cure: to keep moving.
HARpER: I'm undecided. I feel . . . that somethingb
going
to give. It's 1985. Fifteen years till the
third ÀiU"rrni]
um. Maybe Christ will come again. Scene 4
Maybe seeds will be
planted, maybe there,ll be harvests then,
maybe eady figs
to eat, maybe new life, maybe fresh blood, Same day. Louis and Prior outside thefuneral horne, sitting
,n"yU. ."r"'_
panionship and love and protection, on a bencb, both dressed in funereal fnery, talking. Tlte
safety from what,s
outside, m"ybe the door will hold,
o, _*yL. . . . maybe funeral servicefor Sarah lronson hasjust concluded and Louis
the troubles will come, and the end is about to leaoe for tbe cemetery.
will come, and the sky
will collapseand there will be terrible rains and
showers of
poison light, or m*ybe my life is really LouIS: My grandmother actually saw Emma Goldman speak.
fine, maybe Joe
loves me and I'm only crazy thinking In Yiddish. But all Grandma could remember was that
oth.r*ir., or maÉe
not, maÉe it's even worse than I know, she spoke well and wore a hat.
maybe . . . I want
I
knouf maybe dont. The suspense, What a weird service. That rabbi . . .
1o Mr. Lies, it,s pRroR: A definite find. Get his number when you go to the
killing me.
MR. LrES:I suggest a vacation. graveyard. I want him to bury me.
HARrER (Hearing somettting):Thatwas Louls: Better head out there. Everyone gets to put dirt on the
the elevator. Oh God, I
should 6x myself up, I. . . . )bu have coffin once it's lowered in.
to go, you shouldnt pRroR: Oooh. Cemetery fun. Dont want to miss that.
be here . . .you arent even real.
MR. LrEs: Call me when you decide LouIS: It's an oldJewish custom to express love. Here, Grand-
. . .
nanpBn: Go! ma, have a shovelful. Latecomers run the risk of finding
the grave completely filled.
(Tbe Traoel Agent vanisbes She was pretty cr^zy. She was up there in that home
as Joe enters.)
for ten years, talking to herself. I never visited. She looked
1or: Buddyt
too much like my mother.
. Buddyl Sorry Im late. I
Are you madl
was just . . . out. Walking. rwoa. (Hugs bim):PoorLouis. I'm sorryyour grandma is dead.
r,ours: Tìny little coffin, huh?
HARIER: I got a little anxious.
Sorry I didnt introduce you to. . . . I always get so
1on: Buddy kiss.
closety at these family things.
(Tltey Aiss.)
lntoR: IJutch. You get bttch. (Imitating) "Hi Cousin Doris,
y<xr don't remember me I'm Lou, Rachel's boy." Lou,
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Alrcrrs ru AnanRrca
Mrlr,nNNruu Appnoecnes
not Louis, because if you say Louis they,ll hear the
sibilant Louls: Knew what?
S,
Lours:Idonthayea...
pRIoRj I dont blame you, hiding. Bloodlines. (Pause.)
Jewish curses are
the worst. I personally woutd dissotr""
if ,r,yon. .r.,
,:"\.d me_in the eye and said,.Feh."
ForrunatelyWASps
dont say',Feh.', Oh and by the way
pRroR: I did my best Shirley Booth this morning, floppy slip-
dadi.rg, cousin Doris
is a dyke. pers, housecoat, curlers, can of Little Friskiesl "Come
rours: No. baclq Little Sheba, come back. . . ." To no avail. Le chat,
Scene
n^ru'r,:n: I
dohave things...
5 1nr, Wlrirt things?
r^rrr,lr: I have to finish painting the bedroom.
Y*: *y: later on. SVlit scenc: Joe and Harper at bome;
Louis at the cemetery with Raòbi Isidor CÌtrrnri*itz.
tnr \ì,rr'vt: heen painting in there for over ayeat.
and tbe r^nr,r,r.: I krxrw; I. . . .It just isnt done because I never get
little cofin.
tlr(' tr) lìnish it.
zB
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I
Ancrr,s rN Aunxrce
Mrlr,BNltruu Appnoacnrs
yon: Oh that's . . . that doesnt
make sense. you have all the RABBr rsrDoR oHEMELwITz: "Sharfer vi di tson fun a shlang iz
time in the world. you could finish it when
I,m at work. an umdankbar kind!'
rrARpER: Im afraid to go in there alone,
LouIs: I dont speak Yiddish.
1or: Afraid of whatì
RABBr rsrDoR cnuurlwirz: Sharper than the serpent's tooth
HARrER: I heard someone in there. Metal scraping on
the is the ingratitude of children. Shakespeare. Kenig Lear.
wall. A man with a knife, maybe.
LouIs: Rabbi, what does the HolyWrit sayabout someone who
1or: There's no one in the bedroom, Harper.
abandons someone he loves at a time of great need?
HARpER: Not now.
RABBr rsrDoR cHEMELwITz: Why would a person do such a
yon: Not this morning either.
thingì
HARrER: How do you knowl you were
at work this morning. Louls: Because he has to.
There's something creepy about this place.
Rosemary's Baby?
Remember MrÉ. because this person's sense of the world, that it
will change for the better with struggle, maÉe a person
1on: Rosemary's Baby?
HARpER: Our apartment looks like
who has this neo-Hegelian positivist sense of constant
that one. Wasnt that apart_ historical progress towards happiness or perfection or
ment in Brooklyn?
something, who feels very powerful because he feels con-
;on: No, it was . . .
nected to these forces, moving uphill all the time . . .
HARrER: Vlèll, it looked like this. It did.
yor: Then let's move. maÈe that person cant, um, incorporate sickness into his
sense of how things are supposed to go. Maybe vomit . . .
HARrER: Georgetown,s worse. The Exorcist
was in George_ and sores and disease . . . really frighten him, maybe . . .
town.
he isnt so good with death.
lon: The dcvil, everywhere you ttrn, huh, buddy. n^BBr rsrDoR cHEMELwITz:The Holy Scriptures have noth-
HARrER: Yeah. Everywhere.
ing to say about such a person.
1on: How many pills today, buddy?
r,ours: Rabbi, I'm afraid of the crimes I may commit.
HARIER: None. One. Three. Only three.
lrAtrBI rsrDoR cHEMELwtrz: Please, mister. I'm a sick old
rabbi facing a long drive home to the Bronx. You want to
routs '(Pointing at tbe cofin): Why are there just
two little confess, better you should find a priest.
wooden pegs holding the lid downl
r.()l,rs: But I'm not a Catholic, I'm aJew.
RABBr rsrDoR cHEMDLwrrz; So she
can get out easier if she rArulr rsrDoR cHEMELwITZ: \Morse luck for you, bubbulah.
u/ants to.
Clatholics believe in forgiveness.Jews believe in Guilt. (lle
Loursr I hope she stays put.
I pretended for years that she was already /rdts tbe cofin tenderly)
dead. When rxns: Vru just make sure those pegs are in good and tight.
they called to say she had died it was
a surprise. I aban_ lr^rru rslDoR cHEMELwrrz: Dontworry mister. The life she
doned her.
lr;rtl, she'll stay put. She's better off.
3o
3r
Arvcels rn Auenrca
MrunNNruu Appnoecnns
;or: Look, I know this is scary for you. But
try to understand uenpnn: No.
what it means to me. Will you tryl
yor: Well. . . . Yes you do.
Henptn: Yes.
yon: Good. Really try HARPER: That's what you think
I think things are starting to change ;or: Where do you go?
in the world. HARrER: Where do you go? When you walk.
HARpER: But I dont want . . .
(Pause, then angrily) And I DO NOT have emotional
yor: Wait. For the good. Change
for the good. America has re_
problems.
discovered itself Its sacred positiori"*orrg
nations. And yoc: I'm sorry.
people arent ashamed of that like they
used to be. This is
a great
HARrER: And if I do have emotional problems it's from living
thing. The truth restored. Law restored.
That,s with you. Or . . .
what President Reagan,s done, Harper.
He says ,,Tiuth
exists and can 1on: I'm sorry buddy, I didnt mean to . . .
proudly." And the .orn*y ."_
!1_sqoken HARrER: Or if you do think I do then you should never have
sponds to him. We become better.
More good. L,."d to married me. You have all these secrets and lies.
be a part of that, I need something big
to lift me up. I Ion: I want to be married to you, Harper.
mean, sixyears ago the world seemed
inlecfine, horrill., IIARpER: You shouldnt. You never should.
hopeless, full ofunsolvable problems
and crime and con_ (Pause)
fusion and hunger .. .
^nd
HARrER: But it still seems Hey buddy. Hey buddy.
that way. More now than before.
1on: Buddy kiss . . .
They say the ozone layer is . . .
1oe:Harper...
(They kiss.)
HARrER: And today out the window
on Atlantic Avenue there
was a schizophrenic traffic cop who
was making these ..
1oe: Stop I m rying to make a point.
. uAnrDR: I heard on the radio how to give a blowjob.
HARpER: So-it! 1,ri: What?
am I.
r rA RI,ER: You want to try?
;or: You arent even making sense, you . . .
HARrER: My point is the wodd
You really shouldn't listen to stuff like that.
1or,::
seems just as . . .
yon: It only seems that n^RrER: Mormons can give blowjobs.
way to you becauu* yoo ,r.r, go out in
1r»r",-. llarper.
the wodd, Harper, and you have emotional
-
Henpnn; I do so get out in the world.
probl._r. rrAnrriR (Irnitating bis tone): Joe.
yor: You dont. You stay in all Tt was a little Jewish lady with a German acc€nt.
day, fretting about imaginary. . . 'l'his is a good time. For me to make a baby.
HARrER: I get out. I do. you dont
know what I do.
;or: You dont stay in all day.
ll.itth pause. Joe turns awa!.)
-re
33
Arvcnls rN Aunrrca
Mt llrnNIuwI Appno,c,cHBs
HARrER: Then they rÀ/ent on to
a program about holes in the
Lours: Yeah, yeah, well, that's sweet.
ozonelayer. Over Antarctica.
Skin burns, birds go blind, Three ofyour colleagues have preceded you to this
icebergs melt. The world,s coming
to an end. baleful sight and you're the first one to ask. The others
just opened the door, saw me, and fled. I hope they had
to pee real bad.
Scene 6 pr. (Handing bim a uad of toilet paper): They just didnt want
to intrude.
First uteeL. ofNoaemàer. In tàe mens
room of tbe offices of tbe Lours: Hah. Reaganite heartless macho asshole lawyers.
Brooklyn Federal Court alf&ppeats; yor: Oh, that's unfair.
Louis is cryting ooer the
sinL; Joe enters.
Lours: What is? Heartless? Machoì Reaganiteì Lawyer?
yor: Oh, um. . . . Morning. ;or: I voted for Reagan.
Lours: Good morning, counselor. Louls: You didì
yor: Twice.
1oe (He zt:atcbes Louis cryt):Sorry,
L . . I dont knowyour name.
Lours: Dont bother. Wbrd processor. Louls: Twice? Well, oh boy. A Gay Republican.
The
pn (Holding oat band):Jo. pitt. I,m with lowest of the low. ;or: Excuse me?
Justice Wilson . . . LouIs: Nothing.
Lours: Oh, I know that. Counselor pitt.
òhi.f Ct.rk. JoE: I'm not . . .
1or: Were you . . . are you OK?
Lours: Oh, yeah. Thanks. What a nice Forget it.
man. Louls: Republicanl Not Republican? Or . . .
1oe: Not so nice.
Lours: Whatl 1on: Whatl
Lours: What?
1on: Not so nice. Nothing. you sure you,re
...
Lours: Life sucks shit. Life . . . just ;oe: Not gay. I'm not gay.
sucks shit. r,oulS: Oh. Sorry.
1on: What's wrong?
Lours: Run in my nylons. (Blows bis nose loud@ It's just . . .
yon: Yes?
1oe:Sorry...ì
'Lours: Forget ir. Look, thanks r.ouls: Well, sometimes you can tell from the way a Person
for asking.
sounds that . . . I mean you sound like a . . .
yoe;Well ...
Lours: f mean it really is nice of you. Ion: No I dont. Like what?
(He starts crying again) r.ours: Like a Republican.
Sorry, sorryr, sick friend . . .
(Little pause. Joe Anous ltei being teased; Louis knows he
1oe: Oh, I'm sorry.
kno,tos. Joe decides to be a little braoe.)
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