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