MAZEL TOV, TOVARISHCH!
A Russian-Jewish Farce in One Act
by Justin Winston and Benjamin Sher
(from a story by the Shargorodsky Brothers
as translated from Russian by Benjamin Sher)
Copyright 1990 by Justin Winston and Benjamin Sher
DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
Abram Shapiro — Easily excitable ambitious Under Secretary in the local Politburo. About 35 years old.
Abram’s Wife — non-speaking
Moshe — Abram’s very Jewish father, speaks with as thick a Yiddish accent as can be understood. 60 – 70 years old.
Rachel — Abram’s mother, Moshe’s wife about the same age as Moshe and also speaks with a heavy accent.
Ivan Stephanovich — An ambitious gentile from across the Urals. About the same age as Abram.
First Secretary — The leader of the local Politburo. More poised and self assured than Abram therefore seems more in control than Abram but he is basically from the same ethnic background. Should be very ernest at all times.
Chaim — A neighbor and friend of Moshe. Also very Jewish, speaking with a Yiddish accent.
Members of the Politburo — 4 or 5 or as many as can fit on stage without obstructing the action.
PROP LIST
Dining Room Table– Should be fairly plain and large enough to accomodate the politburo meeting in the last scene.
Chairs– to go around table at least four. They don’t have to match.
Mantle Piece
Big Thick Book– Any big thick book will do.
Tallis (Prayer Shawl)
Two identical blankets to be made up as babies
Poster of Sverdlov (Founder of the Soviet Bureaucracy)
A wind-up phonograph
Matzos
Moshe’s Prayer Book
Hassidic Coat
Towel– identical in size and shape to the Tallis.
[Curtain up.]
[Moshe and Rachel are standing stage left. Abram Shapiro enters stage left, crossing upstage of Moshe and Rachel. He stops, turns squints suspiciously at Moshe and Rachel.]
Abram Shapiro
[accusingly]
What are you two after?
Moshe
Mazel tov, Abram!
Abram Shapiro
Mazel tov, Moshe Solomonovich. Mazel tov!!? Not in my house! No! No Yiddish! Speak Russian in my house. Haven’t you got it into your thick head we must give up all these relics of the decadent past.
Moshe
[Raises his hands as in prayer. An aside to God.]
Oy vey! I can’t even compliment my own son in my own house in my own language. So now he wants that I should talk Russian, too? [to Abram] All right, Mr. Politburo Member, Mr. new Under Secretary, I speak Russian — Mazel Tov, Tovarich!
Abram Shapiro
Ach, you’re hopeless! You don’t even realize that in the Worker’s Paradise this house and all other material goods belong to the state.
Moshe
[under his breath]
Gonifs!
Abram Shapiro
It’s a good thing that at least one person in this family is looking toward the future, helping to build a perfect . . .
Moshe
[interrupting]
And you’re a k’nocker.
[They both glare at each other for a take.]
Rachel
Stop fighting, meine Kinderle. Why fight? Look it’s dinner time. Abram, some tsimesa? Eat!
Abram Shapiro
[Shifts his glare to Rachel]
No.
Rachel
Some khamentashen, then. It’s good for you.
Abram Shapiro
[more firmly]
No! You know we don’t eat that anymore!
Rachel
What’s the matter? You used to like it so much. Are you feeling sick? How about some gefilte fish. You’ll feel better.
Abram Shapiro
There’s nothing wrong with me, Mama. Don’t you know that we, who are building a new world here in the Workers’ Paradise must adopt “International Cuisine.” We must break with all such relics of the past.
Moshe
Oy, with the “relics” again!
Abram Shapiro
How do you expect to move into the New World of the International Worker’s Supremacy incumbered these relics of the past. And, my esteemed Moshe Solomonovich, I haven’t forgotten that I have to put up with your personal relic?
Moshe
Personal relic? What personal relic? What you talking about? Such a mishegoss!
Abram Shapiro
You know damn well what I’m talking about. I mean the reason that you don’t go to the public baths any more, and why you haven’t gone in years. [Folds his arms, looks at Moshe's crotch]
Moshe
[looks down at his own crotch]
Oh, that relic. [looks up at Abram] Listen, we can give up a lot for your socialist paradise. Didn’t we invite you to join us here in this communal apartment to show our socialist solidarity. And didn’t I hand my galoshes shop over to the state? And didn’t I quit the choir? But, Abram Shapiro, there are some things even the state cannot ask a man to give up.
Abram Shapiro
[in righteous indignation]
Whom are you kidding? If we hadn’t closed down the synagogue you’d have gone on singing till doomsday. And I’m your son, I’d be living here anyway. All you ever think of doing is hampering us in our glorious work of building the New World of Socialist Perfection.
Rachel
So who’s stopping you, mein Kind?
Abram Shapiro
Who’s stopping me?! Just what is this?
[He picks up the wrapped package on the table.]
How can I build a socialist worker’s paradise with this?!
[Rachel and Moshe look off in opposite directions like children who have been caught with their fingers in the cookie jar. Moshe shrugs.]
Moshe
[Facetiously and under his breath.]
Use lots of plaster, maybe? The state needs wallboard.
Abram Shapiro
[Angry]
Stop pretending, Papa! You know what matzo looks like.
Moshe
Oh, matzo. So that’s matzo. I never would have guessed!
Abram Shapiro
[Angry]
How did it ever get into this house?
Moshe
[Fidgeting]
Well, uh . . .
Abram Shapiro
[Insistent]
What do you have to say for yourself, Papa? Where did this come from?
Moshe
Uh, um, you see, uh, it was, uh . . .
Rachel
It’s old matzo!
Moshe
Right! It’s old matzo!
Rachel
It was baked before the Revolution!
Moshe
It was baked before the Revolution. In fact, it was baked in 1917–September. On the very eve of the Revolution.
Abram Shapiro
[Unwrapping the package and looking at the contents]
[Suspiciously]
It looks pretty fresh.
Moshe
It was a good batch.
Abram Shapiro
[Sniffs the package, glares at Moshe]
And it smells pretty fresh, too. Why is this so fresh?
Moshe
[challenging]
So, Mister Shtunker, eat some. You tell me how fresh it is. You, the big expert on matzo! Go on eat it!
Abram Shapiro
[shouting indignantly]
Me! You want me to eat matzo! Me, a member in good standing of the Communist Party! Me, the new Under Secretary of the Politburo! Eat matzo?! Matzo?! May you all rot in Egypt! Az di zoz weren verbrennt!
[He starts pacing wildly around the room shouting, "Matzo! He wants me to eat matzo!" repeatedly. Moshe and Rachel watch him pace as if they were watching a tennis match. Moshe starts singing, "Boldly Comrades, into the Breach." He stops in mid chorus as Abram begins to speak.]
Abram Shapiro
[Shouting wildly]
If you don’t get rid of that matzo by tomorrow, I’m leaving. And that’s that! Period! Just try to get along without me!
[Moshe and Rachel look at each other. Then they both take up the song where Moshe left off. Abram storms out of the room.]
[Curtain]
[Shapiro living room]
Moshe enters stage left, followed by Rachel. He looks around.]
Moshe
[calling]
Abram! Abram Shapiro! Are you there? [looks at Rachel] Well, Rachel, looks like the great Party leader is not at home.
Rachel
No, Moshele, looks like he is not.
Moshe
And what a pity, on such an important day in his son’s life.
Rachel
Yes, Moshele, such a pity!
[They smile at one another.]
Moshe
Rachel, I will stay here and watch for him, while you go to the nursery and get the baby.
[Rachel nods her acceptance and leaves the room. She returns with a baby wrapped up in a blanket. They all leave. The stage darkens.]
[Stage lights come up. Moshe and Rachel enter. They are very happy. Rachel is carrying the baby.]
Moshe
Rachel, take our grandson to his crib. What a bris! Did you see? That fellow, what’s his name – - the mohel, he really knows his business. Wait, I’ll get the rest of the stuff.
[Rachel rocks the baby a bit while Moshe goes out. Moshe returns with a portable windup record player. He winds it up and puts on a record of revolutionary marches. Rachel looks somewhat disapprovingly at the phonograph and leaves the room with the baby. Moshe leaves again and returns this time with a large book Rachel reenters.]
Moshe
[proudly]
“The History of the Communist Party of the USSR.”
[Rachel shrugs.]
[He puts the book on the table so it makes a thud. Rachel goes to the table and leafs through the book. She closes the book and shrugs. He leaves again and returns with a portrait just a little too big to look good in the room and so heroic that it is a parody. He places it above the mantle.]
Moshe
[Proudly gesturing to the picture]
Sverdlov, Hero of the Revolution!
[Rachel shrugs.]
[Moshe sets up the phonograph. Puts on a record and starts it playing. It's a very scratchy recording of "Boldly Comrades".]
Moshe
[Proudly gesturing to the phonograph]
Heroes of the Revolution!
[Rachel shrugs.]
[There is a commotion off stage. Abram Shapiro enters with his wife. He is talking to her.]
Abram Shapiro
And so I feel that the Central Committee has outdone itself with this latest five year plan. Efficiency and production will be so improved [He sees Moshe smiling broadly. He nods greeting to him.] the problem [He takes the needle off the record] You can hardly hear yourself think, the problem will be finding a warehouse large enough [He glances up at the portrait.] to store every . . . [Double take. He looks around the room.] What is all this? What’s going on? What kind of mishegoss did you do this time?
Moshe
[very proudly]
Mazel tov!
Abram Shapiro
Thank you. What!?
Moshe
I mean, Mazel tov, Tovarich!
Abram Shapiro
Now, I know you’re up to something. What is it? What did you do?
Moshe
Do? Me? Why, nothing, Abram Isaacovich. What do you mean?
Abram Shapiro
[Indicating the new decorations.]
I mean all this. You know very well what I mean.
Moshe
Oh! All this. I was just celebrating, what else?
Abram Shapiro
[very suspiciously]
Celebrating? What’s there to celebrate? What the hell are you celebrating?
Moshe
What a schlemiel! Don’t you know nothing. I was celebrating the anniversary of our glorious Revolution. I’m surprised at the big shot Party Member!
Abram Shapiro
Oh, of course. The anniversary of our glorious Revolution. I should have known. Wait a minute, what do you mean by “our” revolution? Wasn’t it only yesterday that you, yourself were exploiting your fellow man.
Moshe
Exploiting my fellow man? You talking about the galoshes shop?
Abram Shapiro
Of course! The galoshes shop where you shamefully exploited the downtrodden workers.
Moshe
Workers?! You mean my brother, Yosef? Nobody else worked there and we both worked from dawn to dusk. I remember sometimes, during the summer, when the business was slow, we actually saw the sun. But when business was slow, we’d worry that we’d starve so we didn’t really enjoy the sun too much.
Abram Shapiro
Aha! You admit it! You exploited your fellow man until our glorious state forced you to turn the exploitive business over to the people.
Moshe
Who did I exploit? My brother, Yosef. You’re saying I exploited my brother, Yosef!
Abram Shapiro
Your own brother. You Capitalist Pig! You should be ashamed.
Moshe
If Yosef was so exploited, then why did he leave the “Worker’s Paradise” after the Revolution.
Abram Shapiro
He was incapable of living without exploitation! He’s probably starved to death by now.
Moshe
Not at all, Mien kind. In fact, I just got a letter from him the other day.
Abram Shapiro
A letter!? From, Yosef!?
Moshe
Yes! A letter from, Yosef. What’s so surprising about that? He can read and write. [Takes a letter out of his pocket.] He says, “Dear Moshele Solomonovich.” See, he has adopted the American form of address.
Abram Shapiro
And probably the American form of exploitation.
Moshe
Not at all, listen: “I am living in the Bronx of New York City. There are over ten thousand Russians here as well as thousands of Poles, Serbs and all kinds of other Jews.”
Abram Shapiro
All in one Bronx! It must be hell. And who is exploiting him now?
Moshe
No one, Abram, he goes on: “I have a hot dog stand of my own. The factory workers eat hundreds of hot dogs at lunch, and even more on weekends.”
Abram Shapiro
Papa, your brother is worse than dead! He learned a lot from you. He is living in a Bronx where they have to eat dogs. And he is selling them. If you had gone with him you would probably have been on Wall Street forcing Europeans to live in Bronxes all over the country, what with your skill at exploiting people. They need them over there! We, in the wonderful workers paradise have . . .
Moshe
Sure, sure, I know–our revolution did away with exploitation.
Abram Shapiro
Keep your filthy Jewish hands off “our” revolution! You had nothing to do with it. If you had had your way you would have left.
Moshe
Maybe I should have gone. I would have gone, too. If I hadn’t almost died right before the boat left.
Abram Shapiro
You got sea-sick as soon as you got on board the ship, and it hadn’t even left the harbor.
Moshe
It was a very rough day.
Abram Shapiro
You can’t die from sea-sickness.
Moshe
A lot you know, Mr. Verkakter Kind! You’ve never been sea-sick.
Abram Shapiro
Nobody ever died from sea-sickness!
Moshe
It happens every day!
Abram Shapiro
Not in Russia!
Moshe
“Our” Revolution has done away with sea-sickness, is that it?
Abram Shapiro
Keep your hands off “our” revolution!
Moshe
[walking over to the sideboard]
And keep your meshuggeneh hands off my sea-sickness!
Abram Shapiro
Listen, as long as you are under this roof . . .
[Moshe roughly takes the record off the phonograph and opens a drawer and takes out his tallis (prayer shawl).]
Abram Shapiro
. . .What are you doing!
Moshe
None of your meshuggeneh business.
[Moshe puts on the tallis and begins to pray in the Orthodox Jewish manner, bowing deeply and swaying from side to side]. Ve-havienu leshalom mearbah knafot ha-Arets, ki el po-el yeshout ata, ubanu bakharta mi-kol am velashon . . . Baruch ata Adonai, habokher be-amo Israel be-ahava. Ve-havienu leshalom mearbah knafot ha-Arets, ki el po-el yeshout ata, ubanu bakharta mi-kol am velashon . . . Baruch ata Adonai, habokher be-amo Israel be-ahava. [Takes a breath. Looks at Abram.] Ve-havienu leshalom mearbah knafot ha-Arets, ki el po-el yeshout ata, ubanu bakharta mi-kol am velashon . . . Baruch ata Adonai, habokher be-amo Israel be-ahava. [with mock concern] Something wrong, mein Kind? [very solemnly] Shema Israel, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Ekhod. [Removes his tallis. Seeing his son approach, Moshe says quietly] Good night, Abram. [Moshe carefully folds his tallis puts them away and leaves the room. Stage lights darken and Abram gradually loses his voice altogether.]
Abram Shapiro
Just what do you think you’re doing! [Addressing the picture on the wall.] Comrade Sverdlov, look what he’s doing! We must be strong. We must take courage from the History of the Soviet Peoples of the Russian Republics (Short Course): the inspirational Fifth Chapter.
[He takes a tattered book out of his pocket and begins to read from it. His reading begins to imitate the same tone of voice and movements as Moshe in his prayers. They each read louder and louder trying to out do one another.]
“All stages of Socialist construction repersent a universal-historical victory of the working class under the wise leadership of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union.” [Takes a breath. Looks at Moshe.] “Even the enemies of the Soviet Union have had to acknowledge the success of the Five Year Plan. [Begins to become hoarse.] The prophecies of doom pronounced by world capitalism and its agents have proved premature. The working class has proven that it can get along without landowners, capitalists and rich kulaks, [He can now hardly talk.] that they can . . .can [cough] can build a new, superior, socialist order that knows nothing of crises and unemployment, strife and want. In every sphere of human endeavor the Five Year Plan as envisioned and implemented by the wise leadership of Soviet State of Russian workers has proved itself economic and creative superior of the bankrupt, repressive capitalist systems of the enemies of the working peoples of the world.”
[Curtain]
[The following morning. As the curtain opens Abram is at the table eating breakfast.]
[Enter Moshe.]
Moshe
A guten morgan, Abram.
[Abram grunts.]
Moshe
I hope you are feeling better this morning.
[Abram grunts again.]
Moshe
Where would Our Revolution be if you were sick, ha?!
Abram Shapiro
I told you never to say ou. . .
[He chokes on some of the breakfast.]
Moshe
[Goes over to Abram and starts slapping him on his back.]
Let me help you. Cough it up, mein kind. It could cause sea-sickness and you could die.
Abram Shapiro
[Recovering a little]
You can’t die from sea-sick . . .[coughs again] . . . ness. [He is seized with a coughing bout.]
[sf/x: knock on door.]
Moshe
You’ll be alright. You’re not sea-sick yet. I’ll get the door.
[Goes to front door. Opens door.]
Moshe
Ah! Ivan Stephanovich. Mazel tov!
[Enter Ivan]
Ivan Stephanovich
Mazel what?
Moshe
I mean; Mazel tov, tovarich.
Ivan Stephanovich
What?
Moshe
Oh, I forgot, you come from the other side of the Urals.
Ivan Stephanovich
I don’t understand.
Moshe
You wouldn’t. Never mind.
Ivan Stephanovich
Anyway, Moshe Solomonovich, I’ve got to talk to Comrade Abram right away.
Moshe
He’s right this way. Tell me, Ivan Stephanovich, when you came here from over the Urals were you ever sea-sick?
Ivan Stephanovich
Sea-sick?! No, There’s no sea between here and . . .
Moshe
Ah, ha! You see, he didn’t get sea-sick and he is still alive!
Ivan Stephanovich
What?! What are you talking about?
Moshe
I’m talking about death, Ivan Stephanovich, death and sea-sickness.
Ivan Stephanovich
I don’t think I understand that either.
Moshe
You wouldn’t, you’re from beyond the Urals. Don’t strain your mind.
Ivan Stephanovich
Uh, I’ve got to talk to Comrade Abram.
Moshe
So talk.
Ivan Stephanovich
It’s important.
Moshe
So death and sea-sickness, that’s not important?
Ivan Stephanovich
Party business.
Moshe
Oh! Party business! Party business comes before death and sea-sickness, is that it? You’ll excuse me. I am an old man and it is morning and I must do what an old man must do in the morning.
[Begins walking off stage.]
Moshe
[As he exits.]
I shouldn’t want to disturb Party business with death. After all, I might get sea-sick and drop dead. Then where would you be? You and the rest of “Our” Revolution.
[Exit Moshe.]
Ivan Stephanovich
What was all that about?
Abram Shapiro
Oh, nothing. Don’t mind him. What can I do for you this morning, Comrade?
Ivan Stephanovich
Do for me? No, Comrade Shapiro, I came here to help you!
[Ivan begins to pick food off Abram's plate.]
Abram Shapiro
Help me? How?
Ivan Stephanovich
The First Secretary wants to see you right away.
Abram Shapiro
The First Secretary? See me? I’d better get down to the office immediately.
Ivan Stephanovich
No, Comrade, he’s coming here to see you.
Abram Shapiro
Here to see me!
Ivan Stephanovich
And he’s got your dossier under his arm.
Abram Shapiro
My dossier! Why?
Ivan Stephanovich
I don’t know. But if you are in some trouble, you can count on me, Comrade Abram.
Abram Shapiro
[visibly worried]
Thank you, Comrade Ivan, I . . . I may need your support.
Ivan Stephanovich
If you are accused of some crime against the state and you are threatened with demotion or worse, don’t worry.
Abram Shapiro
Thank you again. I’m glad I can count on you.
Ivan Stephanovich
Of course you can count on me, my friend. Yes, when you are gone, I will be glad to take your position on the Politburo. The revolution will continue.
Abram Shapiro
[dejectedly sarcastic]
Oh. Thank you, Ivan Stephanovich, you’re a true friend.
Ivan Stephanovich
Of course, where is the back door. The First Secretary mustn’t see me here, talking to you especially. You understand.
Abram Shapiro
The back door? Oh, it’s that way. [pointing]
Ivan Stephanovich
Thank you, Comrade. A man in my position can’t take too many chances.
[Ivan takes Abram's hand and shakes it. Abram is thinking about his own troubles and doesn't notice.]
Ivan Stephanovich
And remember, if by some chance you are exonerated, I helped you. Otherwise, I was never here.
[Exit Ivan]
Abram Shapiro
[Distracted]
Oh, of course. The khazer! What could the First Secretary want here? What? I haven’t done anything wrong. I’ve given up all my Jewish roots. I hardly even remember what gefilte fish tastes like. And Yiddish, why, sometimes I try not even to think in Yiddish. I know! It’s the matzo! The First Secretary found out about yesterday’s matzo!
[sf/x: knock on door.]
[Abram goes to the door muttering, "It was the matzo." He opens the door.]
Abram Shapiro
Mr. Comrade Secretary, don’t believe it! It isn’t fresh! It was baked long ago, probably in 1917! Before the Revolution.
[Enter First Secretary. He is carrying a folder.]
First Secretary
Isn’t fresh? What isn’t fresh? What was baked long ago?
Abram Shapiro
Uh, the autumn crop. It isn’t fresh.
First Secretary
The autumn crop isn’t fresh? And it was baked long ago?
Abram Shapiro
Baked? Oh! No! Did I say baked, I meant faked. A long time ago. Under the Czar–they faked the autumn crop. Not like we do today. They just filled out the proper forms and there wasn’t any crop at all. No, we do that now! I meant they raked the autumn crop . . .
First Secretary
[interrupting]
Comrade Shapiro, are you sure you’re all right?
Abram Shapiro
All right? Yes, I’m fine. Never better. I – I – I’m not even sea-sick!
First Secretary
Sea-sick?
Abram Shapiro
[emphatically]
You can’t die from sea-sickness!
First Secretary
[opening the folder]
Yes, I know. Now, there’s something very serious I have to talk to you about.
Abram Shapiro
[indignant]
Sea-sickness and death aren’t serious?!
First Secretary
Comrade Shapiro, please come to your senses. This is very serious.
Abram Shapiro
Of course, Mr. Secretary what is it? I don’t know what could have come over me.
First Secretary
Good, it seems, Comrade Shapiro, that some rather damaging allegations have been made against you.
Abram Shapiro
[hysterically]
It isn’t true. Don’t believe it. Ivan Stephanovich is lying!
First Secretary
Maybe you do need a rest, Comrade.
[The First Secretary looks down for a moment to write something on the folder.]
Abram Shapiro
[while the Secretary is writing.]
I’m fine! Ivan Stephanovich is a liar! There is no matzo in this house!
[Abram picks something up off the table and is emphasizing his words with it until he realizes that it is a piece of matzo. He does a double take and throws it away just as the First Secretary looks up from writing.]
First Secretary
You realize, do you not, that for centuries the Czarist government, the Russian bourgeoisie and especially Jewish tradition have inculcated into the minds of the people certain vestiges of the decadent past.
Abram Shapiro
Yes, Comrade Secretary, of course.
First Secretary
And you realize that we must work to eradicate these vestiges of the past since we are no longer oppressed by the Czar, the bourgeoisie or Judaism.
Abram Shapiro
Of course, but I told you, we don’t have any matzo. And it’s old–from before . . .
First Secretary
Matzo isn’t important, Comrade Shapiro.
Abram Shapiro
It isn’t?
First Secretary
Not now. We’re talking about one of the most indelible vestiges of the oppressors.
[Enter Moshe. He listens for a while at the edge of the stage. He turns to leave.]
First Secretary
We are talking about–circumcision!
[Moshe stops. He reacts to the word "circumcision".]
Abram Shapiro
Ah, ha! Circumcision! Uh, why are we talking about circumcision.
First Secretary
Because, Abram Isaacovich Shapiro, you have had your son circumcised!
Abram Shapiro
I didn’t have any choice, I was too young. It was done before the Rev . . . My son? Wait, my son isn’t circumcised.
First Secretary
Comrade Shapiro, it would be better for you to confess. These things are easy enough to prove.
Abram Shapiro
You’re right, they are easy to prove. Moshe, get the baby.
Moshe
Uh, Abram, uh.
First Secretary
No! Don’t get him!
Abram Shapiro
No! Don’t get him!
Moshe
No! Don’t get him! – - Um, why not?
Abram Shapiro
Why not?
First Secretary
Why not! Because, a matter of such importance must be verified by the whole Politburo.
Abram Shapiro
Well, let’s get them here.
First Secretary
Indeed, at once.
[Abram gets his hat and coat.]
[Exit First Secretary and Abram Shapiro.]
Moshe
Oy! Am I in trouble now! Where can I find an uncircumcised baby boy?
sf/x: knock on door.
Moshe
Come in if you’re an uncircumcised baby boy.
[Enter Chaim Kudrayavi]
Chaim
Mazel tov!
Moshe
Oh, A gute tag, Chaim.
Chaim
Moshe, is everything all right? You don’t look so good.
Moshe
Oh, everything’s fine, but I think I’m getting sea-sick.
Chaim
[looks at Moshe quizzically]
Does it have anything to do with why our sons were leaving your house in such a hurry. I thought maybe there was some trouble?
Moshe
Trouble? No, not yet. Just the same old tsuris.
Chaim
Oh, that’s good. I’m baby sitting my little grandson for a few hours but if there were some Party emergency I could keep him longer.
Moshe
No, there’s no Party emergency you won’t have to baby sit . . . [Moshe gets an idea.] Baby? [looks squarely at Chaim] Your grandson?
Chaim
Yes, my grandson.
Moshe
Your uncircumcised grandson?
Chaim
Circumcised? No, his bris isn’t until Wednesday.
Moshe
Chaim Kudrayavi, my old friend. How long have we known each other?
Chaim
[suspiciously]
About three years.
Moshe
A long three years.
Chaim
[more suspiciously]
Moshe, what do you want from me?
Moshe
Me! Want something from you. I would never presume to ask a man like yourself.
Chaim
Oh, well, good. What do you mean, “a man like myself?” Are you insinuating that I’m not generous.
Moshe
Why no! Nothing of the sort! You are one of the most generous men I know.
Chaim
I’m glad you have a good opinion of me. I was beginning to wonder.
Moshe
Why, if I ever did need something I’m sure you would give it to me without the slightest hesitation.
Chaim
Absolutely. Without question.
Moshe
Good, I need to borrow your grandson for a couple of hours.
Chaim
No problem, I can bring him over . . . WHAT! You want to borrow my grandson!
Moshe
Only for a couple of hours.
Chaim
You want to borrow my grandson?!
Moshe
I’ll take good care of him.
Chaim
You want to borrow the son of the First Secretary.
Moshe
I said I’d take good care of him.
Chaim
Absolutely not!
Moshe
But you just said you’d give me anything I needed. I don’t want you should give me your grandson, just lend.
Chaim
I don’t care what I said. I won’t do it.
Moshe
You won’t.
Chaim
No! Not under any circumstances.
Moshe
That’s your final word.
Chaim
I have spoken! The father of the First Secretary of the Politburo has spoken.
Moshe
Has the father of the First Secretary of the Politburo sent the proud father an invitation to Wednesday’s ceremonies?
Chaim
Of course not. He’d kill me if he knew it was even thought of.
Moshe
A boy’s father should be at the bris.
Chaim
You know that’s impossible. Anyway, your son wasn’t there yesterday.
Moshe
That’s over with. But Wednesday is not. Now someone, we needn’t mention names, might send the First Secretary a formal invitation to a most joyous event.
Chaim
You wouldn’t. [Moshe is silent.] You couldn’t. Gott in Himmel! No.
Moshe
[folds his arms]
It would be a shame if your own grandson had no covenant with God.
Chaim
You would. All right, he can stay here, but my son must never know.
Moshe
No problem! How would he find out?
Chaim
It’ll take a few minutes to get the baby.
Moshe
Hurry.
[Chaim starts for the front door.]
Moshe
No, use the back door. It’s safer. And come back the same way.
[Exit Chaim.]
[sf/x; front door opening.]
[Enter First Secretary, Abram, Ivan and several other members of the Politburo.]
Moshe
[aside]
Oy vey! The whole meshuggeneh Politburo. I better say something to slow them down. I know, they just got a commendation from the Central Committee. I’ll get them talking about that.
Abram Shapiro
Now, we’ll settle this once and for all!
Moshe
Mazel tov, Mr. First Secretary.
First Secretary
Thank Y . . . [He glares at Moshe.]
Moshe
[sheepishly]
Tovarich?
First Secretary
Indeed we shall settle this. . . [His glare shifts to Abram]. . . once and for all.
[He nods to the other members of the Politburo, who all nod their approval.]
[Enter Rachel carrying a baby wrapped in a blanket.]
Abram Shapiro
Mother, bring my son here!
[She moves toward the group. Moshe with his back to the group points at the baby and then off stage. Rachel shakes her head. Moshe wrings his hands and looks up. As she nears the group Abram speaks.]
Abram Shapiro
Unwrap the baby.
Rachel
[whispering]
Sh-h-h-! He’s asleep.
First Secretary
Comrade Rachel, [Rachel shushes him. He whispers.] Comrade Rachel, we are all here to see . . .
Rachel
[Still whispering]
I don’t care what you’re here to see. You can’t wake the baby. He hasn’t been fed since this morning. He’s probably weak and now you want to deprive him of his rest? You should be ashamed.
[They all look sheepish.]
First Secretary
Children are the future of the motherland. We shall wait.
Ivan Stephanovich
But, Comrade First Secretary, we have to have the regular meeting this morning.
First Secretary
You’re right, Comrade Ivan Stephanovich. Comrade Rachel, would you mind if we held a session of the Politburo in your house?
Moshe
Mind?! We would be honored. Rachel, bring the gentlemen some refreshments. Set the table. I’m not sure we have enough vodka.
First Secretary
[disapprovingly]
Vodka? At a Politburo session!?
Moshe
Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve never been to a Politburo session. Some cake maybe. There’s some strudel left. Maybe some nice mat. . .
Abram Shapiro
[interrupting]
Ahem, I demand that all non-Party personnel leave the room at once.
First Secretary
Yes, we must do this by the rules.
[Moshe and Rachel immediately turn to go.]
First Secretary
Wait, where are you taking the baby?
Moshe
He’s not a Party Member, is he?
[Exit Moshe and Rachel with the baby. The First Secretary shrugs his shoulders. Every one sits at the table.]
First Secretary
Oh, well. I will now call this session of the Politburo to order. First on the agenda is the demand of the Central Committee to increase production. All in favor of increasing production raise their hand.
[Everyone raises their hand.]
First Secretary
The proposition passes. Production is hereby increased.
[Moshe re-enters with a tray of food. He sets it on the table and exits. The members begin munching on strudel and cake. They are all looking intently at papers they take out of briefcases.]
First Secretary
The next order of business concerns the farmers. Ahem! [He looks disapprovingly at Moshe.]
Moshe
Well, what about the farmers?
First Secretary
The next order of Party business concerns the farmers.
Moshe
Oy, with the Party business, again!
[Exit Moshe.]
First Secretary
As I was saying, the farmers in the north say that unless there is more rain the crops will fail.
Ivan Stephanovich
I propose that more rain fall in the north.
Abram Shapiro
I second the motion.
First Secretary
[disapprovingly]
Comrade Shapiro, you seconded a motion to have more rain fall in the north?
[Abram looks embarrassed. He lowers his head.]
First Secretary
You know motions don’t need to be seconded here. We’ll just vote on them. All in favor raise your hands.
[Everyone raises his hand.]
First Secretary
The motion carries. More rain will fall in the north.
[Ivan picks up a piece of matzo. He begins to eat it.]
First Secretary
Now we will take up the problem of the farmers in the south who say that unless the rain stops the crops will fail.
Ivan Stephanovich
Say this isn’t bad. What’s it called?
First Secretary
[Looks up briefly] It’s matzo. [Matter-of-factly. Looks back at the paper.] All in favor of the rain stopping . . . [He does a double take at the matzo.] It’s matzo!
[Everybody looks at Ivan disapprovingly.]
Ivan Stephanovich
[Looking at the matzo] Not too bad . . . [He notices everybody is looking at him realizes that they are disapproving of the matzo and gingerly puts it down.] . . . for a decadent bourgeois food, that is.
[Enter Moshe. He stays at far end of the stage just watching the goings on. Nobody notices him.]
First Secretary
Comrade, just because you come from beyond the Urals is no reason to act like it. Now, as I was saying, all in favor of the farmers in the south getting less rain signify by saying, “Aye.”
[They all say "Aye" and the baby starts crying.]
Moshe
Now, see what you’ve done! How are we going to get him to sleep again?
First Secretary
Oh, we’re sorry. We’ll be more quiet. Wait a minute, now that he’s awake we can see what we came here to see.
Moshe
What’s that?
First Secretary
Bring out the baby.
Abram Shapiro
Bring out the baby.
Moshe
[Turns off stage]
Bring out the baby.
[Enter Rachel carrying First Secretary's wrapped up baby. Moshe gestures to Rachel pointing at the baby then off stage. She nods. Moshe smiles. She carefully lays the baby on the table.]
First Secretary
Unwrap the baby.
Abram Shapiro
Unwrap the baby.
Moshe
Unwrap the baby? Where to begin? Let me see.
First Secretary
Just take the blanket off.
Moshe
Oh, like this.
[Moshe carefully, ceremoniously unwraps the baby.]
Abram Shapiro
[Pointing at the baby's middle]
Ah, ha! There, you see!
[Members of the Politburo parade beside the baby. Each one stops at the child and looks very closely at the baby's middle. As they do, Abram is speaking.]
Abram Shapiro
You see, I’ve been slandered! Do you need any more convincing? Are you convinced yet? Just look at that.
[The First Secretary is last in line. He looks at the baby's middle and then at the rest of him. He looks puzzled. He scratches his head. He snaps his fingers.]
First Secretary
I’ve got it.
Abram Shapiro
Well get rid of it.
First Secretary
This baby. This baby is . . .
Abram Shapiro
. . . not circumcised!
First Secretary
. . . is my son, Peter! Gott in Himmel! This is my son, Peter!
[Abram's expression melts.]
First Secretary
Yes, I’m sure of it. This is my son, Peter.
Abram Shapiro
No, it’s Grigory, my son.
First Secretary
No, this one’s mine. That’s it.
Abram Shapiro
You mamzer, It’s mine!
Moshe
Forgive me, Comrade Secretary, I am flattered that you think my grandson looks like your son but take a very good look.
[Abram and the First Secretary study the infant together.]
Abram and First Secretary
Yes, I’m sure of it. This is my son.
[The First Secretary looks frustrated.]
First Secretary
We’ll settle this. This is Peter, my son. All those in favor of the proposition raise your hands!
[Everyone raises his hand. Abram first.]
First Secretary
Then it’s unanimous. Motion carried. This is my son.
Abram Shapiro
Not so fast. I want the record to show that a proposition that the baby is Grigory, my son was also entertained.
Ivan Stephanovich
But, the secretary’s motion already carried unanimously. You voted for it yourself.
Abram Shapiro
What does that have to do with it? I always vote for any proposition. I know the duty of a good Party member. Nevertheless, the baby is mine.
[While they're arguing Moshe realizes that nobody is noticing him. Exit Moshe with the baby]
First Secretary
All right, we’ll have another vote. All those not in favor of my proposition raise your hands.
[Nobody moves, including Abram.]
First Secretary
Again it’s unanimous.
[Moshe reenters with Abram's baby in his arms.]
First Secretary
The next order of business is . . .
sf/x; front door opens and closes
[Enter Chaim very agitated.]
Chaim
Kidnapper, Ganif, thief! Give me back the baby! Time’s up. Look at the clock! I want my grandson!
[He notices his son, the First Secretary.]
Chaim
Oy gevalt! Nahum! You’re here! Uh, why?
First Secretary
Ah ha! It is my baby after all! Come give me my son. [Looks at daggers Chaim He thinks he sees through Moshe's ruse.] So this is the way you discharge your duty!
[First Secretary takes the baby (Abram's).]
First Secretary
Now, Comrade Shapiro, where is your son.
Abram Shapiro
Yes, where is my son? [Looks at Moshe.]
Moshe
All right, you win. I’ll get the other baby.
[Exit Moshe]
First Secretary
So, he’s not mine, eh. [He looks at the baby.] You don’t think a father knows his own son?
[Enter Moshe with another baby (First Secretary's).]
First Secretary
Unwrap him.
[Moshe places this baby on the table and unwraps him. First Secretary looks at the other people in the room, but not at the baby.]
First Secretary
As you see, this baby is . . . [He looks down at the baby.] . . . Uncircumcised!
Abram Shapiro
I told you! I’ve been slandered. Is that enough proof?
First Secretary
Oh, damn!
Abram Shapiro
You don’t have to be so upset about my vindication.
[Baby starts to cry.]
First Secretary
No, this baby wet all over me.
[He holds the baby away from himself.]
First Secretary
Come take him, would you please.
[Moshe takes the baby from the First Secretary. He places baby on table.]
First Secretary
This is all wet. I need another coat.
Moshe
Take one from the hall closet.
[Ivan runs offstage and brings back a black Chassidic coat and a towel. Not noticing what it is the First Secretary puts on the coat. He begins to wipe his hands with the towel. Moshe is at the table changing the baby. The Politburo looks at the First Secretary. The First Secretary ambles over to where Moshe is changing the baby.]
First Secretary
Let’s see what my baby looks like.
Moshe
[Trying to shield the baby from the First Secretary with his body.]
Oh, he looks perfectly normal to me.
[The First Secretary puts the towel over his shoulders like a tallis. He gets a look at the baby. He is horrified.]
First Secretary
Oy, vey! Mein Kind!
[Chaim comes over.]
Chaim
You Khazer! What’s going on here? Vas tut zech? I loaned you an uncircumcised baby and what do I get back?
Moshe
Nu? This is my grandson Grigory. He’s circumcised.
First Secretary
Then the other one is mine and he’s not circumcised?
Moshe
[aside]
Not yet.
[The First Secretary sighs in relief.]
First Secretary
Well, Abram Isaacovich Shapiro, what do you have to say for yourself?
Abram Shapiro
[Snapping to attention]
I am a loyal Party member.
Moshe
Go to hell, the whole bunch of you, unanimous decisions and all.
First Secretary
(Addressing everyone like a Rabbi]
Comrades, a Party member must know everything. Nothing must escape his notice, even that which is presently beyond his ken. Comrades, please vote.
[They all raise their hands.]
First Secretary
Unanimous. The motion carries.
Abram Shapiro
Uh, excuse me, but I think I missed something. What did we just vote for?
First Secretary
We do not discuss such matters with former Party members, especially former Party members who are fathers of circumcised babies.
Abram Shapiro
Oh, of course, former Party members. But what did we . . .Former Party members? Former Party members! Me! No! Please! I’ll do anything! Don’t make me an exile!
[First Secretary folds his arms and looks very stern.}
Abram Shapiro
(beats his breast, rents his shirt)
I'll sacrifice a chicken! (If I can find one.)
First Secretary
Comrade Shapiro . . .
[Abram falls to his knees]
Abram Shapiro
All right – I’ll tell you what – I’ll have my son uncircumcised!
[First Secretary shakes his head.]
Abram Shapiro
I’ll have myself uncircumcised! Show a little rachmones. Please, Rabbi, I have a son, a family to support!
First Secretary
(Condescendingly)
Comrade Shapiro! There is nothing you can possibly do to atone for . . . Rabbi?!
[First Secretary looks down at the coat and realizes what it is.]
Abram Shapiro
[Getting up]
You’re right! There isn’t anything I can do. In fact, there isn’t anything I have to do. My son is my son circumcised or not. You, you khazairim! And you want me to uncircum . . .NO! I even think I like him better circumcised. What kind of a Rabbi are you! You momzarim, you schmucks! You uncircumcised schmucks! Matzo! Matzo! Give me Matzo!
[Abram goes to the table, picks up the matzo and rubs it all over his face.]
Abram Shapiro
A-a-h! Matzo! I need matzo! And my coat!
First Secretary
You can have it!
[First Secretary takes off the coat and the towel and throws them at Abram, who puts on the coat.]
Abram Shapiro
I’ll show you! I’ll become a mohel and perform circumcisions everywhere. I’ll go beyond the Urals and circumcise your people, Ivan Stephanovich. I’ll go to America and circumcise the people in the Bronx of New York, or Chicago or Philadelphia or wherever they have Bronxes. [He puts on a prayer shawl.] I’ll go to the Bronxes, in China, South Africa – - anywhere – - that is if, God forbid, I don’t die in the process from sea-sickness.
Moshe
Mazel tov, Mein Zin.
Abram Shapiro
Mein Tateh.
C U R T A I N
