(A Russian-Jewish Comedy in Two Acts)
by
A. and L. SHARGORODSKY
(Translated by Benjamin Sher)
English Stage Version
by
Benjamin Sher & Justin Winston
Copyright 1991 by Benjamin Sher and Justin Winston
DRAMATIS
PERSONAE
Yankelevich -- A 70-year old Russian
Jewish emigree living in
Ghost of
Milton Cohen
("
Officer -- Russian official.
Appears in
Mr. Schatz -- President of the
Synogogue.
A Waiter
Chagal and Wife
Group of
Orthodox Jews
Salvadoran
Insurgent
(leader) --
A Group of
Salvadoran Insurgents -- Dressed in fatigues, they are a caricature of South American
revolutionaries.
Sardinian Mafioso (leader)
A Group of
Sardinian Mafiosi Posing as Jews.
Place:
Time: The 1980's.
[The Orthodox Jews,
Salvador Insurgents and Sardinian Mafiosi may be played by one and the same
group of actors]
ACT ONE
(The stage is bare
except for a kitchen table. A coffee cup and a newspaper are on the table.
Enter Yankelevich with a coffee pot in his hand. He pours himself a cup of
black coffee. Taking a sip with great relish, Yankelevich walks to the
footlights and addresses the audience.)
Yankelevich
A-h-h-h . . . (Rolling
his eyes from pleasure) A gute machel! (Looks at audience) In
English, you say, I believe, "delicious," right? In Russian we say
"potrysayoushche!"Now try that one on for size! But who'd dare translate
the pungent Yiddish aroma of "a gute machel!"
(Returning to
the table, he puts the cup down, and digging in his pockets, he finds his pipe.
He tests the tobacco with his finger, strikes a match and lights up, puffing
lovingly on his pipe. He then picks up his newspaper, puffs again on his pipe
and walks to center stage with the paper under his arm. He faces the audience
again)
I beg your
indulgence, ladies and gentlemen, but in all frankness, have any of you ever
had occasion to use the services of a bodyguard? So, you think it's funny? I
grant you, unless you happen to be the Queen of England, or the President of
the
(He opens the
paper. Reads the beginning of an article to himself. Surprised, he looks at the
audience.)
Oy vey! How dare
they!? And about the President of the
PERSONAL SECURITY
from "The Lion of
Personal
Security??? I was flabbergasted. I already had Social Security, so why not add
personal security? Ever since my
(Enter ghost of
Talk about a lion!
No lion could have fought so fiercely on my behalf while I rotted in the Gulag.
(He gets up and approaches the footlights.) Not the UN, not Amnesty
International, nowhere in the whole world had anyone organized a Committee for
the Defense of Yankelevich. No one shouted: "Freedom for
Yankelevich." Maybe they had their own Yankelevich's to worry about, but
no one so much as lifted a finger for me. No one except my
(
She was my Amnesty
International. She was the Committee for the Defense of Yankelevich! She didn't
go around collecting signatures or organizing demonstrations. She just wrote
and wrote and wrote. To the Supreme Soviet, to the Supreme Court, to the State
Prosecutor and even to Comrade Lazar Moses Kagonavich, Stalin's right-hand man
and the only Jew in the Kremlin. (Yankelevich, half-turning, observes
(Writing)
Mein toyre Leizer.
Yankelevich
(to audience)
Leizer wouldn't
answer. Must have had an attack of amnesia the day he took his seat on the
Politburo.
(Turns back to
(Discards one
letter, then starts another)
Dorogoy Tovarich
Leyzer. How can you forget so soon? All three of us were born in the same
village. We played along the same riverbanks. We stole apples from the same
tree. But then we each went our own way. You landed in the Kremlin and my
Yankelevich landed in prison. Sincerely yours,
Yankelevich
(to audience)
Well, at long last
a letter did arrive.
(Enter a
uniformed messenger. Approaches
Yankelevich
Not from Comrade
Kaganovich, of course, but from the police.
(Spot
illuminates a police desk and file cabinet at stage left. A police officer sits
at the desk filling out and stamping forms. Rosa reads her letter, angrily gets
up and storms over to the police desk. Yankelevich sits at the table and
watches the action at the desk.
Officer
Did you or did you
not write a letter to our beloved Comrade Lazar Moses Kaganovich?
You mean Leizer.
Officer
(Firmly)
I mean Comrade
Lazar Moses Kaganovich!
For you, maybe,
it's Comrade Lazar Moses Kaganovich. For me it's Leizer, or just sweet old
Leizerle. Ah, if you could have only seen him stealing apples from that
orchard, then you'd have . . .
Officer
(Interrupting
and raising his voice)
So! (Slams his
hand on the desk, stands, comes to
(Unmoved by the
officer's bravura)
And what business
is it of yours? This is between friends.
Officer
(Still haughty
and incredulous.)
Madam, are you
trying to insinuate that you are a personal friend of Comrade Kaganovich?
Friend? You could
say that. But listen, (beckoning the Officer closer. He bends down to hear
her. She whispers.) In those days, Leizerle was in love with me.
Officer
(Realizing he
may be in over his head, he straightens up)
Well, um. . . That,
um, puts a different complexion on things.
(Sees that she
is in control)
And if Leizer could
only see how you are treating his old sweetheart. Oy! I wonder who'd be going
to the Gulag then.
Officer
(Still shaken.
Tugs at his collar.)
The Gulag! (He
swallows.) Yes, the Gulag. (Clears his throat.)
So, when does my
husband get out of the Gulag?
Officer
(Shaken)
Well, uh, madam, I
actually, uh, I mean, these things have to go through channels, and, uh well .
. . you know, don't you?
Know? Oy vey, do I
know. I know I'm dealing with a nebish. So, get me your verkakte boss, or
whoever can get my husband out.
Officer
I can't actually do
that either. My verkakte boss, I mean, my superiors told me to deal with you.
They were very specific in what I was to do.
Oh, they were, were
they? Well, tell me, Comrade Nebish, what was it they told you?
Officer
(correcting her)
Comrade Lieutenant
Nebish.
Whatever. What did
they say?
Officer
You don't want to
know.
I guarantee you-- I
want to know.
Officer
I'd rather not say.
Look, Comrade
Nebish, I mean, Comrade Lieutenant Nebish, you can tell me or you can tell my
husband yourself . . . in the Gulag.
Officer
Well, if you must
know, they said to tell you that if you don't stop writing letters you'd end up
in the Gulag with your husband.
(indignant)
Gevalt! So that's
it! Well, you go tell your meshuggener boss he's a ganif! The real thing!
(Spot fades from
Rosa and the Officer. Brightens on Yankelevich. There is now a telephone on the
table.)
Yankelevich
And
Judah
(offstage voice
over phone)
(Almost
apologetic. In a gentle, obedient voice)
Hello, Momma, this
is Milton.
Yankelevich
Oh, I must have the
wrong number. I was looking for Judah the Lion. I'm sorry (About to hang
up).
Judah
(Excitedly) Wait! (Realizing his
mistake, he clears his throat and changes instantly to a gruff, macho voice)
uh... I mean, Judah the Lion speaking. (Roars like a lion, voice is gruff
and authoritatively threatening) Lion of Judah Security Services, Judah
speaking. Identify yourself! (roars)
Yankelevich
Uh, Hello?
Judah
Speak up! Roar, for
God's sake. What are you, some kind of a mouse? Judah the Lion is here to
protect you in your hour of need! So what did you say your name was?
Yankelevich
(In desperation
raises his rather squeaky voice) I'm Yankelevich! My name is Yankelevich!
Judah
(voice on phone)
Yankelevich? Hmmm.
A long East European name. Probably Yugoslavian. A peddler of some sort, I'll
bet.
Yankelevich
Well . . .
Judah
(voice on phone)
Well, speak up. You
sound so old, older than the Wandering Jew himself (laughs to himself).
Come on, I don't have all day. Who are you connected with?
Yankelevich
Uh, oh, I'm
Yankelevich, of uh, Yankelevich & Son, Incorporated, so to speak.
Judah
(voice on phone)
Ah, ha!
Incorporated! Delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Yankelevich, Allow me to
present Judah the Lion Personal Security Systems. Tested in "The
Valley of Death!"
Yankelevich
The Valley of Death?
Judah
(voice on phone)
Haven't you heard
of the valley of death? You know, the finals of the World Universal Wrestling
Championships? (laughs). So, anyway, what are calling about?
Yankelevich
Well, I'm calling
about personal protection . . . for Yankelevich. Are you a bodyguard?
Judah
(voice on phone)
Ha! A bodyguard?!
Of course. Only the best. No question about it! I'll outwrestle anyone! Here,
try these biceps! Come on, for God's sake, press on these Jewish biceps, Mr.
Yankevich!
Yankelevich
On the telephone???
What's the matter with you? Are you some kind of michugene or what?! -- And,
besides, my name is not Yankevich but Yankelevich! I'm from behind the Iron
Curtain, you know, that's what they used to call it.
Judah
(voice on phone)
Iron Curtain? You
mean you used to live under a curtain-- like a dead mouse?
Yankelevich
Dead!? Why
"dead"? ... But I was terrified. I was too afraid to even wear my old
prayer shawl. I sure could have used you then, Mr. Lion.
Judah
(voice on phone)
Now, is this
protection for Mr. Yankelich only or for the son as well?
Yankelevich
Yankelevich! For
Yankelevich only -- at least for the time being.
Judah
(voice on phone)
Very well. I'll be
at your offices within the hour.
Yankelevich
Offices?! ugh...
No, no, Mr. Yankelevich will see you in Central Park today at (looks at
watch) eleven a. m. Mr. Yankelevich will be holding Pravda.
Judah
So, why didn't you
say so before. Hey, wait a second! What's Pravda, anyway? ...
Yankelevich
(Hangs up phone,
turns to audience)
To tell you the
truth, even after three years in America, I was still living in Russia. And in
Russia, whenever you meet some stranger, you always carry the latest issue of Pravda
with you. Believe me, there is little chance you'd meet anyone or that anyone
would meet you, if you were caught with the New York Times in your hands. And
you better not be caught with the Times or even with Pravda in
the Gulag. Of course, with Rosa sending me care packages to our beloved Gulag,
who needs to know the time or the truth. And what incredible delicacies she
managed to cram into those packages: condensed milk, a head of Latvian cheese,
cans of pate, Caspian "roach" and even pork. I was not the only
person who waited for those packages. As a matter of fact, the whole prison
camp, waited for them eagerly. Including the warden himself. So what if he was
an anti-Semite. He adored Rosa's cooking just the same. Of course, he struggled
with this terrible weakness of his, but, alas -- his stomach was stronger than
his ideology. With pomp and ceremony the warden would proclaim this day a
holiday for all nationalities. For once I knew I could relax. There would be no
punishments on this day, no searches, no solitary confinements. After a day of
gluttony, peace and harmony settled on the camp and even the guards lay down
their rifles in their watchtowers and gazed lovingly at the moon. They treated
me like a prince. Soon all of Russia began treating me like a king. Yes,
literally overnight, all the Jews in anti-Semitic Russia became royalty. More
than two million kings and queens! For the first time in the long history of
Soviet rule, Jews were allowed to leave, and only Jews! And so
Marxism-Leninism has come down on the side of the Torah in recognizing the Jews
as a Chosen People, that is, as kings. The Russians, the Latvians, the Uzbeks,
everybody fell to envying us, our dogs and cats, our birds and even our rats,
because these creatures could leave and they could not! Overnight, Jew-haters,
Moslems, Georgians and even devotees of the Buddha discovered that they were
closet Jews. Some declared their love openly and married us. Old, sickly Jews
marched down the aisle with rosy-cheeked beauties and winked at them out of
their one remaining eye. And the looks on the faces of these sweet young
things. Rapture, pure rapture. So I ask you: were we kings then or what? Oy vey
iz mir! I almost forgot! I have an appointment in the park that morning with
the illustrious Judah the Lion. We better hurry.
(He gets up from
the table. Spot illuminates a park bench. Yankelevich walks to the bench with a
copy of a PRAVDA in his hands, sits on the bench and opens the paper. Enter
Judah, dressed in military camouflage fatigues. Seeing Yankelevich, he goes
over to him. As he scrutinizes him, he circles him like an animal coming in for
the kill)
Judah
Pardon me, sir,
what is that funny newspaper you are reading?
Yankelevich
Oh, that's Pravda,
you know. To tell you the truth, though . . .
Judah
In that case, you
must be Mr. Yankevich, I mean, Mr. Yankelevich! (Judah attacks imaginary
enemies of Yankelevich)
Yankelevich
(In
consternation) What are you doing? For goodness' sake, didn't your mother teach you not
to make a public nuisance of yourself?
Judah
My mother? Oh, of
course, sir. Yes, of course. She should see me now, protecting defenseless old
Jews. (pause) You are Mr. Yankelevich, aren't you?
Yankelevich
Yes, I am. So what
of it?
Judah
Ah, those were the
days, gouging my opponents eyes out. Crushing their brains in my bare hands!
The Valley of Death.
(Here he
pretends to be wrestling, throwing bodies down to the ground, laughing
hysterically and roaring and pacing like a lion. He ends this display of his
prowess by flexing his biceps several times to impress Yankelevich.) Come on, feel that! Hard as
a rock! Press hard.
Yankelevich
On what?
Judah
My biceps, of
course!
Yankelevich
(Feels Judah's
arm gingerly)
Ay-ya-yai! Like
steel!
Judah
I can lift a horse.
You know, my mother -- she was so afraid of what these biceps could do --
wouldn't let me go to Yom Kippur services after my bar-mitzvah. It's been so
long I don't even remember what Jews look like.
Yankelevich
You don't say.
Judah
Or a truck.
(He lifts
Yankelevich with one arm and holds him in the air.)
Yankelevich
Oy! Oy! I believe
you! I believe you! Put me down!
Judah
Why?
Yankelevich
I'm afraid of
heights. I forgot to tell you.
(Judah lowers
Yankelevich and extends his arm again.)
Judah
Go on, feel it
again!
Yankelevich
Enough is enough. I
believe you, and even if I didn't, who am I to argue with a lion? So tell me,
with all this body-building of yours, you must have won a whole slew of medals
or something?
Judah
Have I? Just last
year I was the International World Universal Wrestling Champion of the World!
They compared me to Michelangelo's David. I stood next to it--well a plaster
copy in New Jersey. Those goyim were really impressed. You know, David's biceps
were impressive, but next to mine . . . Ah, if only Michelangelo had had me as
a model. There's a statue the whole world would have admired. Even my mother!
Yankelevich
The whole world
admires it now.
Judah
What?! . . . Oh,
you know, I recognized you right on the spot.
Yankelevich
You did?
Judah
Yes, only a
fabulously rich person would dress as modestly as you do.
Yankelevich
Uh, oh, yes, how
true. How true indeed!
Judah
If only you knew
how simply Onassis dressed.
Yankelevich
Onassis? The
Onassis! Did you know him?
Judah
Know him? I was a
member of his inner circle . . . of bodyguards. I mean. To the left. I stood to
the left of President Carter and Elizabeth Taylor and to the right of Georges
Pompidou.
Yankelevich
And you protected
them all!
Judah
Did I! Are any of
them dead?
Yankelevich
Well, Pompidou's
dead, and so is Aristotle Onassis.
Judah
Well, that was
after I left their services. Before that I saved them both - - many times. Then
they croaked, from some disease or other.
Yankelevich
You mean you don't
protect your clients from illness or disease?
Judah
Hmm . . . Not yet,
but someday. . .
Yankelevich
Too bad!
Judah
But if any smart
alec lays a finger on them. . . (flexes his biceps) Watch out! My right
hand is deadly! Did I tell you about the time six men foolishly threw
themselves at my right hand?
Yankelevich
Vey iz mir! I don't
think so. What happened to them?
Judah
I really don't
know. I never ask questions. But all six, I assure you, ended up in the
hospital. Oh, I think they made it all right, Mr Yankelevich, even if two of
them are kind of lame to this day.
Yankelevich
And all with your
right hand! What about your left hand?
Judah
(He flexes his
left arm.)
Almost as lethal as
my right. If they had thrown themselves at my left, two of them may have been
able to walk by now. But I want you to know, for the record, that I work not
only with my hands, but also with my feet, teeth and chin. And let's not forget
my lethal yell.
(Judah gives a
blood-curdling scream. Yankelevich loses his balance and falls over. Judah
helps Yankelevich up.)
You should have
seen me when I knocked down the Russian Devils with a shriek like that! Boy,
would my mother be proud of me if she saw me today!
Yankelevich
You sure love your
mother, don't you? I bet you'd knock down the whole Bronx single-handedly if
they so much as laid a finger on your momma.
Judah
Love my mother? You
must be kidding. Boy, sometimes I wish I could wrestle her . . .
Yankelevich
Wrestle??? Are you
a wrestler?
Judah
Am I a wrestler?!
What do I look like, a cowboy? You see, we have an act. We hire some yutzes and
set them up as a tag team, . . . I forgot! You don't understand. The Russian
Devils would then throw them out of the ring and start boasting and raving all
over the place. Then I'd come in and give my patented Loin's Roar, like this --
(roars).
Yankelevich
(covers his
ears)
Do you have to yell
like that?
Judah
Yell? Thgat's the
"Lion's Roar". It never failed to scare off the Russian Devils. But
you think my mother cared? No! Not one kind word of encouragement. Always
bitching. Don't forget this and don't forget that! Finish your soup! Your
apartment is a mess! Your shirt is a mess! Your life is a mess! Here! Have some
more milk, Milton. It could make you throw up . . . or scream. [roars]
Yankelevich
All right! All
right! But for God's sake stop yelling in my ear. I'm not used to anything
louder than a whisper from Rosa. You know my Rosa? As delicate as a Japanese flower.
Judah
What do you mean,
"stop yelling"? That was just like the Japanese battle cry. It gets
results.
Yankelevich
I don't care. I
don't like the battle cries of foreigners, anyway.
Judah
That's fine with
me, . . . But tell me, how do you like your head smashed?
Yankelevich
What?!
Judah
Like this.
(Judah smashes
into Yankelevich's jaw.)
In case someone
surprises you from the rear.
(Yankelevich
wobbles and falls down, tries to get up and falls down again.)
Yankelevich
For God's sake,
stop it! You'll knock out the few teeth I still have left.
Judah
Don't get excited!
The teeth don't start flying till the assassins rush at you.
(Judah looks
Yankelevich over.)
Excuse me for
asking -- but are you very rich?
Yankelevich
(shrugs)
Unfortunately . . .
(suddenly remembering) Why do ask?
Judah
So I can anticipate
any possible attack.
Yankelevich
Attack!? Why would
anyone would attack me?
Judah
Why else would you
be hiring me?
Yankelevich
Oh, yes . . . Of
course (clears his throat). These damn attacks . . .You know I expect
them any minute now. I just wish I didn't have to think about them.
Judah
(sympathetically)
I know what you
mean. Just the same, if I may trouble you for a moment, could you please tell
me: Are you more likely to be: a) robbed, b) kidnapped or c) murdered?
Yankelevich
Kidnapped!
Murdered! I don't even want to think about it.
Judah
All right, I won't
mention it again.
Yankelevich
Good.
Judah
But Mr. Yankevich,
I mean, Mr. Yankelevich, just what is it that you do, your occupation, trade,
uh, how do you get your money? I hope I'm not wasting my time here talking to
you. (Flexes his right biceps right under Yankelevich's nose.)
Yankelevich
Arms.
Judah
(Brightening up)
Arms! Ah, ha! You
sell arms! Large or small?
Yankelevich
Huh? Oh, uh,
medium.
Judah
Medium? Medium?
Medium what?
Yankelevich
Medium, um-m-m-m.
Judah
Medium range?
Yankelevich
Exactly, medium
range.
Judah
(impressed)
You sell medium
range missiles?
Yankelevich
Yes, of course.
Judah
What is their
range?
Yankelevich
Uh, you should know
that.
Judah
Of course, about
five hundred miles, right?
Yankelevich
Right.
Judah
So, if my
calculations are correct, we could shoot one of your missiles from the top of
the Empire State Building and devastate Chicago.
Yankelevich
Why should we
devastate Chicago, even if your calculations are correct? Besides, I do not, as
a matter of policy, sell arms to New Yorkers. I sell only to freedom-loving,
peaceful peoples. But tell me, honestly, aren't you embarrassed by the fact
that you'll be protecting a poor old Jew like myself?
Judah
Why do you ask?
Yankelevich
Because most people
prefer attacking rather than defending us. I should know, I've been a Jew for
nearly seventy years.
Judah
You're a Jew? (sarcastically)
Mazel tov! So, who needs Jews these days?
Yankelevich
You're not a Jew?
Judah
(In disbelief.
Showing his profile) Am I a Jew??? Mr. Yankevich, is the Pope Catholic?
Yankelevich
Well, yes, now that
I think about it, you do look Jewish.
Judah
And my mother keeps
saying: "When are you going to be a mensch, Milton? When are you going to
stop showing off those biceps of yours, settle down, get married, take care of
your own? Stop being such a putz, Milton!" All Jews need to be protected,
don't you think. (Puts his arm affectionately around Yankelevich.) Every
one of us. Even a poor old Jew like yourself, especially if they have lots of
money. That's why I'm here.
Yankelevich
It's good to have a
purpose in life.
(Judah squeezes
harder.)
Stop it! I can't
breathe! I'll die before anyone gets a chance to attack me.
(Judah releases
his hold. Yankelevich breathes in relief.)
It does feel good
though, knowing someone is watching over you. I'm so lonely at times.
Judah
Lonely! You, of all
people!
Yankelevich
What do you mean?
Judah
I mean, you with
all your money. How could you be lonely?
Yankelevich
Have you ever tried
to carry on a conversation with a hundred dollar bill? Not too amusing, I
assure you. Sometimes, when I'm real lonely, I take out my suitcases, dump my
millions on the table and start counting them over and over again. Then I get
sick. I feel like I'm going to vomit.
Judah
You couldn't be
serious.
Yankelevich
You bet I am, And
that's not the half of it. Sometimes I feel like howling at the moon.
Judah
But what about your
son? Where is he?
Yankelevich
(trembling)
How did you find
out about my son!? How?
Judah
You are Yankelevich
of Yankelevich & Son, Incorporated, aren't you.
Yankelevich
(calming down
and forcing a smile)
Of course, of
course. I - I was only kidding. My apologies, but "Yankelevich &
Son" has been split up for good. Yankelevich here, his son there . . . I
mean, at home.
Judah
At least you have a
son. I don't even have a daughter. In fact, I don't have anyone. Except, of
course, for Mother.
Yankelevich
You?! A
fine-looking wrestling star! Why, you must be fighting the girls off with
sticks. And what about your family?
Judah
Oh, girls aren't
really interested in wrestlers, not decent girls anyway. They're only
interested in your body. Wrestling has dried up anyway. Now, all I ever do
night and day is worry about protecting people. I would give anything in the
world to be protecting my own flesh and blood.
Yankelevich
I know what you
mean. Believe me, I know what you mean.
Judah
With me watching
over them, they would live to a ripe old age.
Yankelevich
Yes. To defend
someone is to love someone.
Judah
You do understand.
You really understand, don't you? Please permit me, sir, may I treat you to a
cup of coffee?
Yankelevich
Me?! You want to
treat me, a millionaire? Absolutely not. But I'll tell you what, young man,
allow me to do the honors and not just a cup of coffee -- tonight, I know a
place, we will dine like kings.
(Yankelevich
walks away from Judah. Spotlight follows him leaving Judah in the dark.)
And we dined like
kings. It took half a month of my welfare checks, but we dined like kings.
(Yankelevich
goes to his table where Judah is seated wiping his lips. He has just finished a
very good meal. Yankelevich sits at the table and picks up the bill.)
Another meal like
this and there won't be anything left of me to protect.
(To Judah.)
So tell me, Judah,
what's the fee for your services.
Judah
Oh, very
reasonable, very reasonable. I'll just bill your company. Don't worry about it.
Yankelevich
I like to worry,
how much?
Judah
Almost nothing. I
don't even know how I can live on so little.
Yankelevich
How little?
Judah
Oh, about $2000.
Yankelevich
$2000?! For how
long? A year?
Judah
No, how about a
month?
Yankelevich
A month!? I was
thinking more like three hours a week! Yes, three hours a week will do just fine.
You can protect me while I'm strolling in the park.
Judah
But what about the
rest of the week?
Yankelevich
Well, uh, the rest
of the week I'm busy working. And I'm fully protected, -- Thank the Lord -- in
my helmet, bunker, bullet proof business suit, all that. So what's your fee for
just three hours a week?
Judah
Oh, how about two.
. .
Yankelevich
Not two thousand
again?
Judah
Oh, no. Hardly
anything, a mere pittance. How does two hundred strike you?
Yankelevich
Fine. (looks in
his wallet) Oh, wait a minute, I just thought of something. What with the
demands on my time -- you know I have clients all over the world. You
understand.
Judah
Of course. Of
course.
Yankelevich
I think three hours
a week is too long, I can only spare two hours - - no, an hour and a half is
about right. That's it, ninety minutes. That's half the time, I'll pay you a
hundred dollars.
Judah
(with little
enthusiasm)
A hundred dollars?
Yankelevich
One hundred dollars
it is. We have a deal, then. I'll give you fifty in advance. (Yankelevich digs
in his wallet, pulls out a fifty and hands it to Judah.)
Judah
(Looking at the
money.)
What a miser!
Yankelevich
So what else is
new? Didn't you all Jews are misers?! And in case you've forgotten, I'm a
millionaire Jew, which makes me a miser to the Nth power.
Judah
Humph.
Yankelevich
Now please don't
take offense, but in spite of all my millions, I never have more than $300
spending money at my disposal. Not a dime more.
Judah
Per day?
Yankelevich
No, per month! And
stop looking at me like some Russian Czar.
Judah
But how does a man
in your position get by on $300 a month?
Yankelevich
Being a miser
helps. So it's agreed, an hour and a half a month on Saturdays. I can't work on
that day, anyway. You know the law, don't you?
Judah
What law?
Yankelevich
What law!? The
Sabbath! Why, haven't you ever heard of the Torah, my good man? And to think
that the Sabbath is the busiest day of the week for us in the missile trade.
Well, I must be going.
(Yankelevich
gets up from the table. Judah still sits there looking at his fifty dollar
bill. He looks up at Yankelevich.)
No need to see me
out.
(Yankelevich
walks to center front of stage leaving Judah and table in dark.)
I waited for the
Sabbath with the passion of a pious Jew. For the first time in my life, someone
would be protecting me. To tell the truth, I had been under protection,
that is, under watch, most of my life! And how! I am sure that none of you has
ever been protected so thoroughly. Not even a Rothschild. They watched me from
their towers, machine guns at ready. They watched over me with searchlights,
with barbed wire, with their wolf-hounds. Three times they threw me into the
GULAG and three times they watched over me. You'd think they'd charge me a
fortune for their state-of-the-art security systems. Well, you'd be surprised
how little it cost to get in. . . And when your mouth is as big as mine, it
takes even less. You'll laugh, but all three times I was thrown into prison for
telling political jokes. Actually twice for telling them, once for listening to
them. The two jokes I told were much funnier and more clever than the one I
listened to but the one I listened to got me the longest sentence. Is that
fair? Well, maybe not, but we all know about fairness.
(Enter Judah,
flexing his muscles and posing.)
What? Is it
Saturday already?
Judah
Time flies.
Yankelevich
Well, I'm delighted
to see you. I have been looking forward so much to this meeting of ours that I
lost track of time.
Judah
Me too.
(Suddenly, Judah
lets out a wild scream and chops the air karate fashion with his right hand.
His whistle cuts through the air.)
Yankelevich
What's the matter?
Are you mad?
Judah
You mean you didn't
see that man coming at you?
Yankelevich
So what if I did?
Why did you charge at him like that? You could've flattened him.
Judah
Why did I
"charge at him"? He was right on top of you.
Yankelevich
On top of? You
frightened the devil out of him! Look at him running away as fast as his feet
will carry him! Have you forgotten your promise? No chops with the right hand!
(Judah nods and
they both stroll up and down the stage. Suddenly Judah leaps up, kicks with his
left leg and lets out a wild scream.)
Oy vey! What are
you doing? You nearly killed that poor old Jew with your antics.
Judah
He was charging
directly at us.
Yankelevich
Vey iz mir! All he
wanted to do was wish us a "Shabat Shalom". Have you forgotten? It's
the Sabbath. He was just walking home from the synagogue. And now look at him.
He's running as if possessed by a demon. What makes you think that someone is
out to kill me, anyway?
Judah
You sell guns,
don't you?
Yankelevich
Well, yes, so what?
Judah
So everybody is out
to "gun" you down. Ha-ha.
Yankelevich
(not amused)
Ha-ha. Take my
advice: stick to karate.
Judah
So tell me, Mr.
Yankelevich, with all the nice things you could be peddling, why sell these
horrible bombs? They might fall into the hands of the enemies of America!
Yankelevich
Perhaps you're
right. In fact, I was thinking of giving it up.
Judah
And not a day too
soon. Why don't you try selling chocolate? Or cheese, for instance? My mother
just loves cottage cheese. I read where they have over 300 different varieties
of cheese.
Yankelevich
Just between us, I
don't like cheese. I never eat it.
Judah
And bombs? You eat
bombs?
Yankelevich
I have my own
reasons for trafficking in arms. You may find it hard to believe, but I sell
bombs because I want to see them blow up. I mean, blow them up. You know
who?
Judah
Who?
Yankelevich
The Russian Devils.
Judah
The Russian Devils?
Just let me at them. I'll crush them with my fist. One roar (roars) and . . .
Yankelevich
No, not the
wrestlers. The real devils. Stalin and the whole gang waving to us from the
Lenin Mausoleum. The Russian Devils.
Judah
You are not joking,
Mr. Yankelevich? Are you? But what have you got against them? They are good
sports, aren't they? Why do you want to wipe them off the face of this earth?
Yankelevich
Because they wiped
away the smile from our faces.
(Suddenly Judah
leaps into the air again and chops and screams.)
Not again?!! Pipe
down! What's the matter, now?
Judah
The man was right
on top of us!
Yankelevich
"Right on top
of us! Right on top of us!" That's all you ever say! Some old Jew raises
his hat a little, says, "Shalom" and instantly you jump on him like a
wild animal. You're scaring away the few friends I still have in this world.
What's wrong with you? Don't you see these people are all Jewish?
Judah
As a matter of
fact, I didn't. But so what if they are Jews?
Yankelevich
Don't you see it
isn't the Jews who are out to get me?!
Judah
And why not? Don't
Jews ever attack other Jews?
Yankelevich
Yes, of course, but
not on their way home from Sabbath services. (Yankelevich looks at his
watch.) Vey iz mir!
(Yankelevich
sits on the bench.)
Judah
Why are you sitting
down? Are you feeling bad or something?
Yankelevich
Oh, no, not at all.
I feel fine. It's just that we're way over the ninety minutes we agreed on.
Looks like we've been strolling for about four hours . . . I think I just ran
out of cash.
Judah
No need to get
excited. I'm only counting time served net. (Looks at his watch.) That
amounts to exactly one hour.
Yankelevich
And just how do you
compute that?
Judah
I only count the
time I spent waving my hands and feet and shouting . . .
Yankelevich
Splendid! Then we
have another half hour left.
Judah
With pleasure! By
the way, wait till you hear what my mother said . . .
(Yankelevich
separates from Judah, leaving him in darkness, and advances to center stage.)
Yankelevich
Judah and I
strolled for another three hours. He couldn't resist breaking out in screams
every few minutes. He went on hollering and chopping the air with his Karate
hands and wherever we showed up Jews ran away from us in terror down side
streets, as if in slow motion . . . And so I began to look forward to the
Sabbath every week. A sense of meaning, of purpose, had once again entered my
life. But I paid a price all right. Breakfast. Yes, I had to give up breakfast.
And why did breakfast disappear from my diet? Well, first of all, because, as
many doctors like to say, it is healthier to do without it, and, secondly,
because I couldn't afford both breakfast and a bodyguard. Besides, during a
long life I've become accustomed to living without breakfast, in fact, quite
often, without lunch and, sometimes, even without dinner. You see, every
morning in that utopian apartment in Russia I'd stand for fifteen long minutes
waiting my turn to use the toilet. And that was on good days, when everyone's
digestion was normal. And if anyone, God forbid, should get an attack of
constipation, we'd all be late for work. And do you have any idea how many
years in the GULAG the courts handed out, if you were late for work? Only a day
less than for subversive jokes. It is no surprise, then, that our society is
the perfect remedy for constipation. Then again, I never had to stand in line
even for a minute for the bathtub. There wasn't any! My wife and son and I
lived in a dark room that had once been reserved for the dog. In a dark room in
a communal apartment where six families lived. That's twenty-one men, women and
children: members of the intelligencia and state prosecutors, Party members and
thieves -- sometimes in one and the same person -- criminals, scholars, Jews,
Christians, Tartars and anti-Semites. As you can imagine, there was little
chance for peaceful coexistence in this hell-hole. A simple spark -- like
sitting too long on the toilet or a short circuit or a long Jewish nose could
blow this powder keg sky high.
And so, instead of
breakfast I spent my mornings reading and thinking. Until one day I discovered
a law of Nature . . . At first I was terrified. Never before had I made such a
discovery. I felt like Newton. It turned out that my entire life was nothing
more than a case of unmitigated stupidity! Consider for yourself: Wasn't it
sheer stupidity for me to yell out "For Stalin!" instead of "For
Rosa!!" when going into battle against the Nazis. Rosa is dead, and I am
here alone, all alone. Or isn't it sheer stupidity that I should be left to die
in freedom, while my son Ilyusha and his wife and child are held captive over
there! Chances are that I'll never see them again. And so I've discovered what
I'd call Yankelevich's first law of nature; The more it changes, the more it
stays the same. I must admit, though, that after formulating this mighty law of
Nature, I felt profoundly shaken and depressed. If this law holds true, then
there is no use fighting it. To defy it would be the very height of stupidity!
The more it changes, the more it stays the same . . . Still, there is nothing
stupid about your spring. Spring here reminds me of our spring. They changed
nearly everything over there, but they couldn't do a thing about our gorgeous
spring. In May trees would start blooming everywhere. Do you like spring? Me
too. Even though it aggravates my ulcer. It was in the spring that I first met
Rosa, it was in the spring that my son was born, and it was on a sunny April
morning that we flew away.
ACT TWO
(Yankelevich and
Judah are pacing up and down the stage. Enter Mr Schatz, the President of the Synagogue,
dressed in Chassidic attire and sporting a fine Chassidic beard..)
Yankelevich
Good evening, Mr.
Schatz. Shabat Shalom!
(Judah suddenly
rushes to Yankelevich's "defense' letting out a terrifying scream. Schatz
cringes.)
Yankelevich
Gott in Himmel!
Stop shouting! Who are you yelling at, anyway?
Judah
That terrorist
attacker. (Indicating Mr. Schatz.)
Yankelevich
Terrorist!? Are you
some kind of mishigene? Can't you see it's the President of the Synagogue, Mr.
Schatz. (to Schatz) A thousand apologizes, Mr. President! He meant no
harm. He just didn't recognize you. (to Judah) What's the matter? Don't
you know a Jew when you see one.
Judah
This is a Jew? (pointing
at Mr. Schatz)
Yankelevich
What does he look
like -- a cowboy? Listen, Judah, if he isn't a Jew, then who is? (to Schatz)
Please forgive him, Mr. Schatz. He has never met any real Jews, uh, I mean,
with long beards, like yourself. He's (to Judah) For goodness' sake,
stop chopping up the air with your hands! Let the poor man through!
Judah
All right! All
right! (to Schatz) You may pass, Sir.
Yankelevich
Come on, Mr.
President. Don't be afraid. He won't hurt you. (Offers him his arm)
Shabat Shalom, Mr President! This is Judah, my bodyguard, a regular lion . . .
(Schatz recoils
in terror)
Why are you looking
at me like that? Am I mistaken, Mr. President, or do I see consternation in
your face.? Oh, so it's Judah again. Don't you worry! He's just an ordinary
bodyguard. And such a kind man, too! (to Judah) Looks like Mr. President
is surprised to see that I've my own personal bodyguard.
Judah
What's there to be
surprised at. Who else should I be protecting if not Mr. Yankelevich? After
all, he's no ordinary arms merchant. He even travels in secret to Moscow and
back and . . .
Yankelevich
(cutting Judah
off)
Please don't
exaggerate, Judah! (to Schatz) He loves to brag about his clients, Mr.
President. By the way, Mr. President, would you care to join us for a stroll? I
assure you you'll be absolutely safe. You don't believe me, is that it? (to
Judah) Judah, kindly show the President your celebrated right thrust. It's
all right. You have my permission. (Judah rolls up his sleeve) Go ahead,
Mr. President, feel his biceps! (Schatz reluctantly feels Judah's biceps.)
Harder! Like steel, don't you think? With that right hand of his he can kill
with a single blow! (Schatz runs off stage) Hey, where are you running
off to, Mr. President. He won't touch you! I assure you, he won't lay a finger
on you.
(Yankelevich
steps forward to address audience. Judah recedes into the shadows.)
Yankelevich
The old President
ran like a young stag. And not from terror, but because he had some
extraordinary news to report. Within the hour everyone in New York knew that
Yankelevich had a bodyguard and what's more that Yankelevich himself was an
arms dealer. Now I ask you, ladies and gentlemen, how could some of the wisest
Jews, Christians and even Moslems have gotten it into their heads that a poor
old book-keeper, who is eking out a miserable existence on a welfare check, was
in reality a tycoon, a big shot, a shark and God knows what else . . . It was
not till the following Wednesday, when I went to see my dentist that I first
realized that something had gone wrong. I didn't quite know what, but I could
feel it right away.
(Yankelevich
walks back. Spotlight opens on a dentist's chair. The dentist is cleaning his
instruments, his back to the chair. Yankelevich sits in the chair tilts his
chair back and opens his mouth.)
Dentist