The Unseen Hand, page 19
(OOLAN grabs the Krispies from EMMET and hides under the table. 1ST EXTERMINATOR follows her. Another loud knock.)
FORENSIC: Not him! Just her! Just Oolan!
1ST EXTERMINATOR: Leave her alone!
EMMET: Yes! Who is it, please!
(2ND EXTERMINATOR’S VOICE over a microphone.)
2ND EXTERMINATOR: IT’S THE EXTERMINATOR, LADY!
EMMET: I’m no lady, mister! I’m a man!
FORENSIC: Don’t talk like a dumb kid, Forensic. Open the door.
EMMET: Fuck you. This is my home. Give me that gun.
FORENSIC: Stand back, Emmet, or I’ll blow you wide open.
(EMMET lunges at FORENSIC and grabs the gun. They struggle with the gun. Another loud knock.)
2ND EXTERMINATOR: OPEN THIS DOOR OR I’LL BREAK IT DOWN!
(EMMET and FORENSIC struggle all over the stage with the gun. Long loud ripping sound of door being crashed in. At the end of the sound, 2ND EXTERMINATOR falls onto the stage. He is still dressed in the uniform but without gas mask and tank. A pause as EMMET and FORENSIC look at the 2ND EXTERMINATOR. They both have hold of the gun and neither of them lets go until the end of the play. The 2ND EXTERMINATOR gets up slowly and brushes himself off. He looks around the stage.)
2ND EXTERMINATOR: Boy, is it ever weird out there. Have you guys ever been out there?
FORENSIC: Out where?
2ND EXTERMINATOR: Out there. You haven’t got much time, though. I should tell you that right away. Fair warning and all that sort of stuff. Now what’s happened to Forensic?
(He starts looking around as EMMET and FORENSIC tug at the gun.)
EMMET: What’s weird out there, mister? I’ve been out there before and there hasn’t been anything weird. What’s so weird?
2ND EXTERMINATOR: The whole thing. The road and everything. The phone booth. The road. Do you suppose he left or something? I suppose so. It’s better, I guess.
FORENSIC: What’s better? What’s weird about the road? Make yourself clear!
2ND EXTERMINATOR: Especially the road. Just walking along in a gas mask and looking the way I look and everything. I mean there’s not many people, but if you run across anybody while you’re out there it’s really weird. But you’d better get out before it’s too late. They’ll be here before you can say Jack Robinson.
EMMET: Who?
2ND EXTERMINATOR: I suppose what he did was he just decided to quit the whole business. I suppose that’s it. He just got tired of waiting around. Left his gear and everything. In fact we must have decided the very same thing at the very same time but we just happened to be in different places is all. That’s it, I’ll bet. I’ll bet that’s what happened. Just as I put down the receiver and folded the glass door open and stepped outside and looked down at the tank and the mask leaning up against the tree trunk and a semi roaring by, just as he, standing around his table, hears the same semi roaring by and takes off the mask and sets down the tank, just as I leave the tank and the mask leaning up against the tree trunk and start following the semi down the road, just as he leaves the room with the tank and the mask sitting here on the floor and starts walking toward—We must have passed each other somewhere. That’s it. I’ll bet that’s what happened. He starts walking toward the phone booth and I start back toward the house and we missed each other on the road. I’ll bet you that’s the way it happened. But you guys had better get out. They’re going to gas this place once and for all.
(Very slowly blue smoke starts drifting onto the stage. It keeps up until the stage is completely covered and all you can hear are the voices of the actors. It gradually pours over into the audience and fills up the entire theater by the end of the play. It could change colors in the course of filling the place up, from blue to pink to yellow to green.)
FORENSIC: Who is? You’re out of your mind! Gimme the gun, Emmet.
EMMET: He’s lying, Forensic. Can’t you see that? He’s not in any hurry to get out, so why should we be?
2ND EXTERMINATOR: I suppose if I just wait around he’s bound to turn up. Fat chance of finding him this time of night, walking along in the dark. Barely see your own nose in front of your own face. Nice place you boys have.
(He sits in the stage-left chair, puts his feet on the table and leans back with his hands folded behind his head. EMMET and FORENSIC tug at the gun.)
FORENSIC: He’s not either lying. He’s called the home office and found out where the table’s supposed to be and they’re sending men out to help him. He’s waiting around for his men. Now gimme the gun, Emmet.
EMMET: He just told you that he left all his gear back at the phone booth and he came back to meet his buddy. They’re deserters, Forensic!
2ND EXTERMINATOR: Yep. A place like this could get a man dreaming about settling down. Finding some roots. A kind of headquarters. A place to come back to.
FORENSIC: This is our home!
2ND EXTERMINATOR: Where’s that woman, Emmet?
EMMET: What?
2ND EXTERMINATOR: That woman you had here before.
(OOLAN giggles under the table; nobody hears.)
EMMET: Oh she …
FORENSIC: Don’t tell! Don’t you tell him anything!
2ND EXTERMINATOR: The trouble is, what if he arrived at the phone booth, found my tank and mask leaning up against the tree trunk and thought the same thing as me at the very same time but in two different places? What if he’s set himself down inside the phone booth or up against the tree and he’s waiting for me thinking the same thing as me; that it’s too damn dark to go walking back on that road at this time of night. What if that’s the way it is?
EMMET: Then you’d better walk back and get him.
2ND EXTERMINATOR: No, no. You don’t understand. If either one of us makes another move like the moves we’ve already made then the whole thing could go on forever. Now is a very crucial time. We have to each think individually what the other one is going to do or we’ll just miss each other again and again and we’ll finally give up and go our separate ways. Do you get what I mean?
FORENSIC: Maybe he doesn’t even want to meet you, though. Did you ever think of that?
EMMET: Shut up!
2ND EXTERMINATOR: Maybe you’re right, Forensic. Maybe you’re absolutely right. Maybe he doesn’t. That means he could be somewhere altogether different from the phone booth. That means he could be anywhere.
FORENSIC: That means he could be right under the table even.
EMMET: Will you shut up!
2ND EXTERMINATOR: He most certainly could be, Forensic. He most certainly could. Right under my very nose. Right under the table. But that means I’m right then. That both of us are thinking the very same thing at the very same time. But if he’s under the table then we’re also in the very same place. I hardly think that could be true, Forensic, because if it were then it could mean only one thing. That he not only doesn’t want to meet me but he also doesn’t want me to meet him.
(1ST EXTERMINATOR’S VOICE is heard from under the table.)
1ST EXTERMINATOR’S VOICE: Now you got the picture.
(OOLAN giggles. EMMET and FORENSIC tug at the gun. 2ND EXTERMINATOR stands and paces around the table. He addresses the table.)
2ND EXTERMINATOR: Then I take it the whole thing’s off. Do I take it right? Do I take it right or wrong?
1ST EXTERMINATOR’S VOICE: Right! You take it absolutely right.
2ND EXTERMINATOR: Then we just split up and go our different ways.
1ST EXTERMINATOR’S VOICE: That’s up to you. I’m staying here.
EMMET: Will you give me the gun!
2ND EXTERMINATOR: I called the home office, you know.
1ST EXTERMINATOR’S VOICE: I know, I know.
2ND EXTERMINATOR: Then I take it you know what’s going to happen.
1ST EXTERMINATOR’S VOICE: You take it right.
FORENSIC: What’s going to happen?
2ND EXTERMINATOR: And even so you’re willing to stay. Even knowing what’s going to happen. You’re going to stay here.
1ST EXTERMINATOR’S VOICE: Yes, I am. I’ve fallen in love.
EMMET: What’s going to happen?
2ND EXTERMINATOR: You don’t care if we win or lose, then. You don’t care if I stay or go. You just don’t care. YOU JUST DON’T CARE, FORENSIC!
FORENSIC: Yes, I do! What’s going to happen?
1ST EXTERMINATOR’S VOICE: Why don’t you leave? You don’t have to stay.
2ND EXTERMINATOR: Me? Alone? You want me to go running out there alone and go skipping up to them in my fancy new uniform and wave and throw kisses maybe and say hey fellas you’ve got the wrong house, you’ve got the wrong farm, you’ve got the wrong lawn. There’s nothing here to exterminate. It’s just us. It’s just us and a few of our gang. Really. Try the next ranch. Try next door or down the road a piece. Down where they’ve got all the dogs. Down where you hear all the screaming till late in the night. We don’t even play the phonograph after eleven o’clock. You can ask them if you like. Just down the road there. They’ll tell you. Not a complaint in over thirty-five years. You can come in and look but it’s just like I say. It’s just a bunch of friends not knowing what else to do. Having breakfast now and then. It’s pretty dirty but come right on in. Sure, search wherever you like. You won’t find a thing. What do you think we are? Patsies or something? What do you think? Sure, tear up the bed, tear off the sheets, rip out the drawers, tear off our clothes. You won’t find a thing. Guns? Guns? You think we have guns? Not on your life. Where would we hide guns? Under the floor? Under the floor! You hit the nail right on the old head. Guns under the floor. Under the table. Guns all over the place. See for yourselves. Every turn you make there’s another gun. Automatics, elephant guns, Marlin four hundreds. Knock yourselves out. Well, I’m not going to do that, Forensic. I’m not going out there ever again. I’m staying right here!
(Loud banging is heard as before. The smoke by this time has filled up the stage and poured over into the audience. The banging keeps up at short intervals and develops a kind of mounting rhythm. This lasts for quite a while as the smoke gradually begins to thin out. Finally, as the smoke disappears, the actors, table and chairs are all gone so that the audience is looking at empty space at the end.)
The Holy Ghostly
The Holy Ghostly was first performed by the New Troupe at the McCarter Theatre, Princeton, New Jersey, in January 1970, with the following cast:
POP: Peter Craig
ICE: Ben Vereen
CHINDI’S OLE LADY: Jeanette Ertelt
CHINDI: Richard Wexler
COMPANY: Edward Barton, Jerry Cunliffe, Theodore De Colo, Victor Lipari, Cleve Roller, Leah Scott, Joyce Stanton, Harris Weiner, Michael Meadows, Michael Warren Powell, Alan Braunstein, Deatra Lambert, Hedy Sontag
It was directed by Tom O’Horgan with music by Mr. O’Horgan.
SCENE
The desert at night. A large campfire glows in the center, the audience sits around it in a circle. POP, in his late fifties, is sleeping face up with a hat over his face in a sleeping bag. ICE, his son, in his twenties, is squatting by the fire roasting marshmallows. He wears a hat, blue jeans, boots, vest and a blanket thrown over his shoulders. Around the fire are various cooking utensils, packs and empty cans. It looks as though they’ve been living there for a while. Blue light fades up slowly.
ICE: (Singing softly)
Oh didn’t he ramble. Rambled all around.
Rambled ’round the town. Oh didn’t he ramble.
Rambled all around.
Rambled ’round the town. Oh didn’t he ramble.
Rambled all around.
Rambled ’round the town. Oh boy didn’t he ever
ramble. Rambled
’round the town. Rambled all around. That boy
sure did ramble.
Rambled all around. Lookin’ at the ground. Oh
didn’t he ramble.
Rambled all around. Rambled ’round the town. Oh
didn’t he ramble.
Rambled all around. All around the town.
(He takes the marshmallow out of the fire and tests it with his tongue, then sticks it back in the fire.)
Oh didn’t he ramble. Rambled all around. All around the town.
Oh didn’t he ramble. Rambled all around. All around the town.
(POP sits up fast, pulling a gun out from under his pillow and aiming it at ICE, who sits there coolly.)
I’ve been trying to get that particular toasty golden brown that you like, Pop, but it sure takes a long time. So much easier just to stick it directly in the flames and let her burn.
POP: What do ya’ think I am, a cannibal or somethin’. I like ’em cooked proper or not at all.
ICE: Well, you just lay back there and take a load off and I’ll let you know.
POP: You seen the Chindi?
ICE: Now if I had, do you think I’d be sitting here toasting marshmallows and worrying whether or not they’re getting too brown or too black?
POP: Just don’t go gettin’ confident on me. He’s a sneaky devil.
ICE: Go to sleep.
POP: I have an idea you probably think yer old man’s teched in the head. You probably do.
ICE: Go to sleep.
POP: You do, don’t ya’? Don’t ya’?
ICE: If I did, do you really think I’d have dropped everything I had going for myself in New York City, grabbed the nearest Greyhound bus and wound up out here in the Badlands with you?
POP: All what you had going in New York City? All what? My ass. You were just another bug in the rug, boy. Gimme that marshmallow and stop playin’ with it.
(POP reaches over and grabs the marshmallow off the end of the stick. He pops it in his mouth. ICE takes another one out of a bag and puts it on the stick.)
Now listen to me. I could care less whether or not you believe in ghosts and phantoms. The reason I asked ya’ out here weren’t for sympathy and it sure as hell weren’t for yer instincts. Lord knows those a’ been shot to shit in that damn city. I plain and simple need an extra gun.
ICE: Then why didn’t you hire one?
POP: Not to be trusted! None of ’em. Get an old man like me out here in the desert alone and right away they’d take me for everything I got.
ICE: Which is exactly what? Let me see. A fishing knife, a John B. Stetson circa 1890, a Colt forty-five, a Browning over and under …
POP: Yer so smart! Yer so goddamn smart! Look at ya’! Just look at ya’!
ICE: Spittin’ image of his old man. Yessir. Why if it weren’t for the age separatin’ ’em you’d think they was the same person.
POP: Yer no son a’ mine. No son a’ mine woulda’ gone and changed his name and dressed his self up like a hillbilly.
ICE: Well, I didn’t know we were in a fashion show.
POP: Yer so goddamn smart, aren’t ya’.
ICE: Well, I had me some good teachers. Sheep ranchers and horse thieves and what all. Taught me everything I know.
POP: I’m tellin’ you, boy, you don’t know what fear’s all about. You ain’t even begun to taste it.
ICE: How’s the marshmallow?
POP: Fair to middlin’.
ICE: They say men make better cooks than women.
POP: Do they now.
ICE: Why don’t you stop coming on like a hard-on? I’m the only company you’ve got.
POP: That’s what you think. That’s really what you think, ain’t it? What if I was to tell you there was a Chindi out there with more faces and more arms and legs than the two of us put together? You really think we’re alone, don’t ya’, boy? You think we’re just a sittin’ out here in the starry night passin’ the time a’ day and roastin’ marshmallows like a couple a’ Boy Scouts away from their mothers.
ICE: You told me he looked just like you.
POP: Who?
ICE: The Chindi.
POP: Sometimes he does. Sometimes he does that just to trick me. Trick me into believin’ it’s all a figment a’ my imagination. But I know better. I know he’s out there waitin’. Waitin’ for me to make a wrong move. Bidin’ his time. Smellin’ my campfires. Pushin’ his toe into the holes my body made when it was asleep.
ICE: Listen, I got an idea. You say he’s out there waiting for us and we’re here waiting for him. Right?
POP: That’s about the size of it.
ICE: Then why don’t we push him? Lean on him a little. Ghosts don’t count on that. They count on fear. We might scare the shit out of him if we went after his ass.
POP: And how do you figure on trackin’ him, smart boy? Ever seen a ghost make tracks?
ICE: We could pretend we were leaving. He’d come after us and then we’d get him. If we split up, one of us behind, me behind and you in front. We’d get him in the middle.
POP: Go to sleep.
ICE: Look, Pop, I gotta’ get back to the city. All my friends are there. I can’t be diddling around here in the desert forever.
POP: Important business. Big man. Big important man. Go ahead then! Go on! Go off and leave yer old dad. Go ahead!
(He rolls back into the sleeping bag and puts the hat back over his face.)
ICE: Will the radio bother you? Pop?
(No answer from POP. ICE takes a transistor out of his bedroll and turns it on softly to a rock station.)
POP: I’m not in show business, ya’ know. There’s some people likes to sleep at night. I need my rest. Ice? I said this ain’t goddamn New York City where ya’ can be playin’ the radio at all hours of the goddamn day. Ice!
(A shrieking, screeching howl is heard. They both jump to their feet with their guns out. Silence. Except for the radio.)
