Delimax
A play in two acts
by
Harvey E. Ostroff
A small Jewish Delicatessen in Montreal. The entrance and shop window are at right. The window reads Delimax and has a small refrigerated counter beneath it that contains jars of pickles and other delicacies. Salamis and other sausages are hung so that they can be viewed from the street.
The interior of the restaurant is beige. It contains a long counter with eight stools. On the wall behind the counter and running the length of it, is a mirror. The equipment is old-fashioned but serviceable. It includes a milkshake machine, a meat slicer, soda fountain and so on.
A single arborite table with four chairs sits at left center. Down right is the door to the storeroom where Epstien lives. The only anomaly is a shelf of leather-bound classics on the storeroom wall.
It is a snowy evening in January, during the present.
At rise: Max Farber, a thickset man of fifty-eight enters stumping snow from his boots. He is laden with packages. Nathan Epstien, a sad looking man in his mid-seventies, sits at the table reading a Yiddish newspaper. A cigarette with a long ash is dangling from his lips. He wears a hearing aid, a frayed white shirt, an old maroon sweater, shiny black pants and
hasn't shaved for several days. Max deposits his packages on the counter and removes his hat, coat, scarf, and boots. He dons an apron over his white shirt and dark pants, hangs up his outer garments and turns to Epstien.
Max: Ach Nathan! I thought I told you to sweep the place up while I was away...Hello Nathan....Mr. Epstien...[Sarcastically.] Oh your Majesty.
Nathan: [Finally aware of Max's presence, he smiles in greeting. ] Hello Maxie. When did you get in?
Max: I thought that I had asked you to---
Nathan: [ stopping him ] A moment Max [ He turns up his hearing aid ] ....Vuss?
Max: I asked ....what's the use. [ He grabs a broom and begins to sweep as Nathan goes back to the paper. ] So, what's so absorbing in the paper ?
Nathan: The Expos just signed a Jewish third baseman for next season. Manny Caplan from Tampa Bay.
Max: Caplan...Caplan...Wait A minute. Didn't Julius and Betty Caplan move to Tampa, when was it? About seven or eight years ago.
Nathan: [Shrugs ]
Max: I'm almost sure their son's name is Manny. I catered his Bar Mitzvah. I remember because they wanted to have his Bar here in Montreal with all the mishpacha before they left for Florida.
Nathan: Of course. It's all right here. Caplan, originally a native of Montreal, had his Bar- Mitzvah catered by Mr. Max Farber of...[giggles ]
Max: You're in a good humor today Mr. Epstien. What did you do, cure your constipation? ... Was it that Caplan?
Nathan: The same.
Max: Imagine that. Playing for the Expos. I'll bet he won't recognize his hometown.
Nathan: It hasn't changed so much.
Max: Only the names have changed to protect the innocent.
Nathan: Vuss?
Max: Les Vieux Fabriques des Bagles., Delimax.
Nathan: Don't get started on that again, Max. You got yourself into
cont'd.. enough trouble.
Max: I didn't get myself into enough trouble. That's the...
Nathan: Max!!
Max: Meshugener! I spent thirty years learning English and now nobody speaks it anymore. Look at this menu. Soup aux Matzo ball. Viande Fume´. This isn't a kosher delicatessen. It's a Jewish creperie without the crepes. All right. All right. [sighs] Did any customers come in while I was gone?
Nathan: No. No customers. [He returns to his newspaper ].
Max: [Looking out the window] Maybe I should put up some pictures like at Ben Ash. I'll get all the famous Jews from Montreal; Mordecai Richler; William Shatner in his Captain Kirk uniform. It shouldn't take much. Just a few letters. Dear Captain Kirk: Next time you circle terra, drop me a photograph so that I can hang you on my wall between the karnatzlach and Manny Kaplan, the soon-to-be third base player from the Montreal Expos.
Nathan: Why not?
Max: I should start with Nathan Epstien, Olympic runner.
Nathan: Never mind Max, He died in 1933.
Max: I'll tell you what Nathan, I'll get a deck of cards we'll play a game of Casino.
Nathan: No Max. Every time we play---
Max: Come on Nathan, it will help pass the time. It's been at least three months since we last played.
Nathan: No! We always---
Max: [Abruptly] I'll get the cards.
Nathan: But... All right, all right. One game. Twenty-one points.
Max [Goes to get the cards from the cash register] Good. Your cold sounds better Mr. Epstien. You took the Contac pills I got you?
Nathan: I took them. Tiny little time pills. I like that. Tiny little time pills.
Max: You should take better care of yourself Nathan, going in winter with that light jacket and no scarf. I told you that you'd catch a cold.
Nathan: Don't nag at me Max. I don't need that.
Max: You put on a winter coat and a scarf and I won't nag at you. Cut for deal [They do so]. My king. My deal. Two for you and cont'd two for me, and two for the kitty. And two and two and two. Play a card.
Nathan: Take it easy Max. I haven't picked them up yet [He does so].
Pause
Max: You've had enough time already. Play a card.
Nathan: [Plays one] There.
Max: Oh! Very good. Very good. Takes great intelligence. For this I had to wait an hour. A queen with a queen. Hmpf! [Plays a card] Sevens...with the good deuce... Nu? Play a card.
Nathan: Max. I didn't want to play in the first place. If you're going to--
Max: Just play a card. Don't talk so much.
Nathan: [Plays a card]
Max: [Laughs ] Oi oi oi! You didn't know I would have a three? [puts down a card] More sevens. Where did you learn to play this game anyhow?
Nathan: In the hospital. [grins] I'll take your sevens now. Thank you very much. [Shows Max a card and picks up the pile]
Max: You mean in the loony bin. Only in a crazy house could you make a play like that and get away with it . Here [Plays a card].
Nathan: Kish mir in toches arien! Nah. The good ten. [Shows him a card and picks up from the table ]
Max: [Dealing] Three points in the first four cards. I don't believe it. Play a card [Nathan does so. Max is getting agitated] an ace. He plays an ace and I can't touch it. [Plays and picks one up ]
Nathan: Queens with queens, very good Max, very good [ Puts down a card ]. Hah! Aces.
Max: Nathan, I don't know how, I don't know why, but you're cheating.
Nathan: I didn't touch the cards even. You're dealing Max.
Max: [Snaps at him ] Do you think I'm blind? I take him out of the crazy house, I give him a place and...Augh!! [He throws down the cards violently]
Nathan: [Starts picking up the cards] I never said I wasn't grateful to you Max. I can't help it if the cards are good. Mien Gott! Why
cont'd.. do I let you do this to me!
Max: [After a moment] I'm sorry Nathan. I lost my temper again. I apologize. [He bends down to help Nathan pick up the cards ]
Nathan: I can do it, Max. Never mind.
Max: You shouldn't bend like that. It's not good for your back. You're forgetting your age.
Nathan: At my age, it's a blessing to forget my age.
Pause
Max: I'm sorry I mentioned the hospital.
Nathan: It doesn't bother me...I am grateful, Max.
Max: Shh! It doesn't matter. [Lifts him up and hugs him .] Since the war we've known each other. Ten years we're living together and I can't even.... Oi! Come on, we'll play again. You can schnieder me if you want to.
Nathan: And who's crazy now?
Enter Monique DuBois, a waitress in her early twenties. She is pretty but with close set eyes and a sharp nose. Her hair is a
mousy brown. She takes off her red cloth winter coat and hangs it up beside Max's. Under the coat is a black waitress uniform with white frill and an apron.
Max: Look who is here Mr. Epstien. The beautiful Monique has come to grace our establishment and she is only...two hours late. Don't tell me you were stopped on the street by a famous movie director and---
Monique: [With a heavy Quebequoise accent ] Are you crazy Mr. Farber? Have you looked outside?
Max: I just came in. it didn't seem too bad.
Monique: The power is out over half the city.
Max: So why didn't you call. You didn't have to come in.
Monique: I had to go to the drugstore for Maman. Once I was going out...Besides, I told Réjean to meet me here. It didn't seem too bad when I left.
Nathan: [Coughs]
Max: I thought you said your cold was better, Nathan.
Nathan: [Sulking] Don't worry so much. I was only clearing my throat.
Monique: Did you take your medicine?
Nathan: Gottenu!! Another one. What am I here, the baby? I took my pills. I had a nap. I brushed my teeth... And five minutes ago, Max changed my diaper for me.
Monique: Okay. Okay. Je comprend.
Max: As long as you're here, Monique, you might as well put away the packages.
Monique: Sure [She goes to the counter, lifts a bag and starts toward the back room]
Nathan: [Stops her ] I'll take them, thank you. It's time for my nap.
Monique: Bonsoir.
Max: Sleep well, Nathan.
Nathan exits to the storeroom.
Monique: It's nice you let him stay here. It gives him something to do.
Max: I am irrevocably tied to Nathan. He shares my innermost secrets.
Monique: I bet you got a lot of secrets.
Max: A few.
Monique: Still, it's good you let him stay here. It makes him feel useful.
Max: A man should always be able to feel useful. Arthur Miller said in Death of a Salesman: "A man is not a piece of fruit. You can't eat the orange and throw the peel away." Epstien is my orange peel.
Monique: More like a lemon, small, sour and yellow, but I still think it's a nice thing. You read a lot, eh Monsieur Farber?
Max: We are the people of the book. Tell me Monique, the power failure, does it affect your mother's oxygen machine?
Monique: No. It's okay. We have a battery or something.
Max: How is she feeling?
Monique: Enferme...She can't leave the house and she's tired all of the time.
Max: I'm sorry. There is nothing worse than confinement.
Monique: She doesn't complain much. Mostly she watches T.V. Le Pere
cont'd.. Noel brought her a video machine this year. She likes sexy movies. I'm embarrassed the stuff she sends me to pick up for her.
Max: I'm going to make myself a sandwich. You want something?
Monique: Sure, I'll get it. What do you want?
Max: Smoked meat. Lots of ---
Monique: I know. Lots of fat. You're going to kill yourself one day. Too much fat, it's no good for you. It clogs up the ----
Max: I appreciate your concern, but smoked meat just isn't smoked meat without the fat.
Monique: What is it then?
Max: Viande fumee [ Monique goes behind the counter to make the sandwiches ]. Is your father working yet?
Monique: Yah. Last week they gave him a new job. He came home with presents for Maman. For me too.
Max: Oh, what did he get you?
Monique: A new typewriter for my work at school. It's like a computer
cont'd.. or something. It works good.
Max: That was thoughtful. It's a nice gift.
Monique: I bet you used to bring home lots of nice presents for your wife.
Max: My wife? [He goes to the window and stands there for a long cont'd moment staring out at the snow] My wife...
Monique: What kind of gifts? You can tell about a man, you know, by the gifts he brings to you. Last week Réjean brought me a fuzzy pink rabbit. What do you think that means, eh? It means he thinks I'm going to be his little girl. I'm going to have to teach him better than that.
Max: [Moans at the window]
Monique: Monsieur Farber...Monsieur Farber [ Goes over to him ]. Monsieur...It's happening again. Monsieur Farber. C'mon [Takes his arm and whispers] It's O.K. Monsieur Farber. It's O.K.
Max: [He shakes her off violently, throwing her to the floor] Molly!! [The action swivels him around and he recognizes that it is Monique] Mien Gott! I'm sorry Monique. I don't know why I do that. Let me help you up. Are you all right? I didn't hurt you?
Monique: [Rises, brushing herself off ] You know, Monsieur Farber, sometimes you just disappear. It frightens me.
Max: I'm sorry. I don't know what to say.
Monique: You should see a doctor or something.
Max: I'm a reflective person. I'm sorry if I frightened you.
Monique: You were calling for your wife.
Max: My wife---[He stops for a moment ]
Monique: Monsieur. [She takes his arm gingerly ] Come away from the window.
Max: I'm all right. I was only looking at the snow. [He turns towards her]
Monique: It's getting pretty bad. I hope Réjean doesn't try to drive...Monsieur?
A woman in a fur coat can be seen peering through the window.
Max: [Laughs to himself] About ten...Mien Gott! No. Almost twenty years ago, when my Molly, a lev shalom*, used to work with me, we had a storm like this, worse than this. Ice and snow, cont'd.. white and silver under a slate gray sky. The telephone wires and tree branches were coated with ice about half an inch thick. Like silver ribbons, they looked in the twilight.
*( Phrase used when referring to the dead. " May her heart be at rest.")
Monique: You make it sound so beautiful [Sits down with him at the table.]
Max: It was. Very beautiful. The cars weren't moving and the streets had never been so quiet. The electricity went out. We lit some candles, opened up a bottle "Maneshevitz." [sighs] It was very romantic.
Monique: [Takes Max's hand.] I know the rest. Was she pretty?
Max: Shakespeare couldn't do her beauty justice. [He lifts his glass.] "Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing."
Yetta Mandlebaum enters. She is a handsome woman in her mid- fifties. She wears a slightly worn mink coat and matching hat.
Max: Yetta! Hello Yetta [They hug ]. Quite a tan! It's good to see you.
Yetta: Oi, Maxie, do I ever miss you. As soon as I arrived, I left my bags at my David's and took a taxi straight here. I didn't even take off my coat. Come. Give me another hug.[ They embrace ] Now, tell me what did I interrupt tonight? I was looking
cont'd.. through the glass and I thought that you and Monique...Well, it seemed like...
Max: Monique and I? Don't be ridiculous. Monique is a very nice young, and I emphasize the word young, woman. If I were going to get involved, which I most certainly am not, I would prefer someone like you; aged but not decrepit.
Yetta: Don't expect from me a thank you for that one Maxie! You're no prize from Crackerjacks yourself. Aged but not decrepit! What a compliment. I'm telling you, Max, if... Ach, never mind!
Monique: You want your strudel now, Madame?
Yetta: Please sweetheart, and a glass tea, my bones are aching from this weather. For this, I left Florida. I must be crazy. I told the taxi driver Farber's Delicatessen on Park and Bernard and he tried to tell me that it didn't exist. A schvartze from the West Indies, probably snuck into Canada illegally. He had chains on his tires and we could hardly move. You'll have to give me a lift home later Max. [ She looks at the window .] What's Delimax? What happened to the old sign?
Max: This is Quebec, Yetta. All of the old signs are gone.
Yetta: But Delimax?
Max: They called me on the phone, to ask me why I hadn't changed the sign. So I told them that I had already changed it from "Farber's Delicatessen" to "Farber's Deli. " They said that Deli was all right but Farber, they didn't like. I said that's my name! They said it wasn't French enough. How about Max, I said. "Max's Deli?" There was a pause on the phone. O.K. Monsieur, "Delimax." One word. So now I'm the proprietor of a legal but empty delicatessen. They keep changing the law but if I wanted to put the old sign back, they would probably change it again. And if I did put it back, it wouldn't bring back the old days, when Sunday afternoons, everybody came to Farbers.
Monique: I like the new sign. I think it's chic, "Delimax."
Yetta: It's crazy, they should change the signs. I came into town and all the signs are in French. Excuse me, Monique, but how can anybody be expected to understand this meshugas*
(*craziness)
Monique: In Paris, Madame, all of the signs are in French.
Yetta: Never mind Paris. If I wanted to go to Paris, I would bring a dictionary.
Max: [notices his watch] Didn't you say that you had to go to the
cont'd.. pharmacy tonight, Monique? It's almost ten o'clock.
Monique: Merde! I better go right now. [She grabs her coat.] If Réjean comes by, tell him to wait.
Yetta: A new boyfriend, Monique? Last time I was here you were going with a separatist named Sylvain or something. Tell me about the new one.
Monique: He'll be here soon, Madame. You'll find out yourself.
Yetta: Not like the other one, I hope.
Monique: Worse. [She laughs] I attract those types. [Exits]
Yetta: I'm surprised she's still working for you.
Max: She's in College now. She just works part-time. Never mind about Monique, Yetta, what brings you to town?
Yetta: My grandson, Jordan's Bar Mitzvah. It's hard to believe that my little David has a son old enough to be Bar Mitzvahed. We're getting old, Max.
Max: Aged but not decrepit.
Yetta: Speak for yourself, Maxie. Florida is a fountain of youth.
Everyone else there is over seventy. I'm a spring chicken.
Max: Tell me about Florida.
Yetta: What's to tell? It's warm, there's no snow and all of the goyim speak English. Even the Spanish ones.
Max: What kind of a place are you living in?
Yetta: I live in a condominium like all of the other transplanted Montrealers. My David must have spent a small fortune to cont'd: keep me in exile there...but, it's so lonely, Max. There's no old friends there. [Smiles] that's why it feels so damn good to be here, having my strudel and tea, even on such a night.
Max: [ He reaches over and pats her hand ] It's good to see you too.
Yetta: I look at you and I see past the wrinkles and gray hair, Maxie. Remember the summers when Molly and me would spend a couple weeks in the country and you and Sam would come up to join us on weekends? Rabiners, in Ste. Agathe. Is it still there? [ Max nods ] We used to spend a lot of time together in those days, you and me. Sam worked so hard, that when we got there, he would do nothing but sit; a handkerchief with four little knots at the corners on his head, his pants rolled up and his feet in the water. And you and I would go on long walks along the lake. I'm telling you, if I wasn't a married
woman in those days.... I used to envy Molly. You took such good care of her. I never laughed so much. Molly never laughed though. I could tell she was happy but she never laughed. You know, Maxie, after Sam and Molly both died, I kept waiting for you to ask me to...
Max: How are the children?
Yetta: My David, God bless him, is a millionaire today. Thirty-eight years old and he's turned his father-in-law's factory into a gold mine. They have a beautiful house in Westmount, another in Ste. Adele, both with swimming pools. They go to Europe twice cont'd: a year. My daughter-in-law, Rachel, is a queen with a live-in maid, a gardener, a Mercedes. A regular philanthropist. She has time for everybody but me. I..
Max: And Sally?
Yetta: What can I say? A modern woman.
Max: You told me.
Yetta: Children! They never write. They never visit. Once in a blue moon they'll pick up a phone. I don't know what I ever did to them that they should treat me like such a stranger. My grandchildren don't even know who I am...Listen to me! Never mind. It's my *tsuris ...I used to wonder why you and Molly
never had any children. Now I know. You are a wise man, Max Farber. So, enough about me. Tell me about you.
(* troubles )
Max: I'm all right. My health, knock wood, is fine. The restaurant keeps me busy and Nathan, as usual, keeps me company. The universe, as they say, is unfolding as it should.
Yetta: How is Nathan?
Max: As graceful and crotchety in age as he was in youth.
Yetta: He's still living with you?
Max: If we're quiet, we can hear him snoring in the back room. Of course he's still with me. Where else would he go? You're looking forward to the Bar Mitzvah?
Yetta: It should be very nice. Why don't you come with me, Max? Better yet, sell this mausoleum and move with me to Florida. With you there, maybe I wouldn't be so lonely.
Max: Are they having a big orchestra?
Yetta: Are you kidding? A thirteen-piece orchestra, ice sculptures, strawberries in January. Over four hundred people. More than a hundred out -of-town guests. Hardly anyone seems to live in Montreal any more. Not the young ones anyways, Vancouver, Toronto, Dallas, Miami. Tell me, Max, why do you stay?
Max: At the beginning, a lot left. They were saying we would have another holocaust. I...I saw no reason to leave. I changed my sign, twice, I made new menus, and while I was at it, I even raised the prices a little bit. It's not so bad. Life goes on. [He thinks for a moment ] My memories are here. Molly is here.
Yetta: Molly is dead, Max. God rest her soul.
Max: Who else would leave a stone on her grave? No Yetta, I have no desire to leave here. I am a pragmatist, an existentialist, like cont'd: Camus. "What will be will be."
Yetta: That's Doris Day, not Camus. So what are you going to do, curl up and die?
Max: I don't want to argue. You want some more tea?
[Rises without waiting for a response]
Yetta: But you have nothing left here. You don't even speak the language. Why not, at least, go where it's warm....Max! Don't turn me off. I'm talking to you. Since I got the invitation, I've been working up the nerve to tell you these things. I have no more pride. I need you, Max. I don't make friends easily. I need to be with .... At least say that you'll consider it!
Max: Sorry. I'm deeply honored but...no.
Yetta: If you could just see yourself. What keeps you alive, a dead woman and a relic from---
Max: This is my home. If you chose to run away, that's not my concern.
Yetta: A home is people. Living, breathing people. What do you want to do for the rest of your life, make knishes for the Françoysen.*
(* French)
Max: There is nothing that I want. No. That is not true, Yetta. I want you should stop this.
Yetta: No, Max, I can't stop. Ever since Molly died, you have--
Max: Yetta! I'm warning you!
Yetta: What can you do to me. You're an empty shell. Ever since Molly died you have--
Max: [Shouts] All right!! I have no home. My people are dead. This is my place of refuge. My sanctuary!
Yetta: All right, Max, take it easy.
Max: Take it easy. Take it easy. First she sticks in a knife and then she tells me to relax and enjoy it.
Enter Réjean Poulin, a good-looking young man in his early twenties. He wears a jeans and a leather jacket over a white turtleneck sweater. He is shivering.
Réjean : Ou ce qu'a l'est Monique?*
[Where is Monique*]
Max: [ Still annoyed from his encounter with Yetta ] What?
Réjean : J'ai dis: Ou est Monique? J'ai un rendez-vous avec-
Max: Speak English Réjean.
Réjean : Don't tell me. This is my country. You speak French.
Max: Mange d'la merde!* Is that French enough for you?
(** Eat shit)
Réjean : J'ai dis, Ou est Monique. Comprenez vous?
Max: What's wrong with you tonight?
Réjean: Rien.
Max: Please Réjean . Mrs. Mandlebaum speaks no French. She is a tourist here and I, as you well know, speak very little myself. We're not talking about politics here. We're talking about communication. Now, what is it you want from me? Please.
Yetta: He doesn't deserve it you should be so polite.
Max: Something must have happened. What's wrong?
Réjean : Look, where's Monique, O.K.?
Max: At the pharmacy, on the corner, where her cousin works... I didn't hear your car. Did you walk?
Réjean : Sure. After I smash my car, I walk. Colis! I just left it in the middle of the street. Then the snowplough came and pushed it to the side. I had studs, too. La Batard qui me frappe´.* He didn't even have winter tires. Maudit fou!
(*The bastard that hit me )
Max: Did you report it?
Réjean : Sure, I called up. They gave me a number. Tomorrow, I'll call back.
Max: You got his license number and insurance?
Réjean : Sure. He's not going anywheres anyway. His car is smash worse than mine.... Anyways, it's my own fault. I shouldn't drove. It's crazy out there. The cars, they look like a bunch of three year olds playing hockey. If it wasn't my car it would be funny. O.K. Monsieur bring me a coke, eh? Monique can be an hour with her cousine. They never stop talking.
Max: How is it to walk?
Réjean : Twenty-five below zero and the wind, she blows hard. It hurts to walk.
Max: Excuse my lack of manners. Réjean Poulin, Mrs. Yetta Mandlebaum, an old and dear friend who has come to take me away from here to find the elusive fountain of youth in Miami.
Yetta: Who said Miami? West Palm Beach, at the Century Village.
Max: That's right. Everyone there was born before the turn of the century. Mrs. Mandlebaum, herself, is one hundred and twelve years old.
Réjean: Sounds good to me. Floride is beautiful. I was there a while ago. Why don't you go? You'd be better off.
Yetta: Good for you Réjean. You see Max, I found a friend.
Max: Never mind about Florida. Monique told me that you had a job interview today. How did it go?
Réjean : [Grins] I start Monday.
Max: Wonderful what kind of a job?
Réjean: Writing for a new journal. " Revolution Aujourdui."
Max: Revolution today? I thought you already won.
Réjean: Oh no Monsieur. Le Parti Quebecois merely lit the fuse. It's not over yet.
Max: If what's happened so far is just a spark, I'd hate to see the real thing.
Réjean : That's right Monsieur, you would hate to see the real thing.
Max: Tell me, what is the real thing?
Réjean: We must end the economic oppression of our people. We must guard vigilantly against any erosion of our culture.
Max: And just how is this to be accomplished?
Réjean : Violent revolution. It's the only way.
Max: Despite the efforts to bring about change?
Réjean : Because of them. Political solutions are solutions of compromise. We don't want compromise.
Max: So it will come to violence then. I see. Violence against whom?
Réjean: The bourgeoisie, the bankers, the politicians, the....never mind.
Max: Go ahead. Finish.
Réjean : I told you never mind. It's not your business.
Max: I am very curious. Please. Go ahead.
Yetta: I know what he was going to say. The Jews, isn't that right, Réjean ?
Réjean: Well, I....
Yetta: It's all right. I don't mind. You can have this *farshtinkeneh place with its too-cold winters and its too-hot summers and its Nazi politics. That's why I left. It used to be not such a bad place to live. Now, like he said when he came in, it's his country. Isn't that right?
(* stinking )
Max: Stop *noodging him, Yetta.
(*Pushing )
Yetta: I want to know. I'll make you a bargain, Max, if the finish to his sentence wasn't " the Jews," I'll stop bothering you about Florida. Come on Réjean . Are you afraid? Wouldn't Quebec be better off without the likes of us?
Max: He didn't say that.
Yetta: I don't give two hoots whether he said it or not. Look at his face. Can't you tell?
Réjean : Never mind. She's right. Les Anglais, les Juifs, les--
Max: So what does that mean? I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Radical, that your revolution has died. It has been buried alive by the political process. The fire is out. You're twenty years too late. It's over.
Yetta: That's what they said in Germany, in '39, when they started freezing the bank accounts and putting their Nazi managers in the factories. There's nothing to worry about.
Max: You weren't there. You have no basis for comparison. And you've been away from Quebec. You haven't witnessed the failure of the Nationalist experiment. If you had stayed, you would know that the people don't really want separation. [laughs ] it would be too expensive. The new laws, are either circumvented or ignored. Réjean is standing alone. It's over. The movement has fallen apart.
Réjean : Sure, all the old guys have sold out to les Anglaises. That's O.K. Their job is finish. Now it's time to start again. Now, it's our turn.
Max: A lunatic fringe. They spring up from time to time. He's young. It's romantic at his age to attach oneself to a cause. He'll grow up. It is over Réjean. The people are satisfied.
Réjean: That's not true. We will be **Maitres chez nous. You will obey our laws.
(**Masters of our own house )
Yetta: When I was growing up on De Bullion Street, on one side were the French, on the other side was the Jews. We pretended to be enemies but...we weren't. Not really. If we needed more people to play we would go across the street. It was only when we grew up that we became such enemies.
Réjean: I don't care about that.
Max: Listen Réjean , certain justifiable gains were made in the seventies and eighties. Now we have returned to reality. Look around you.
Réjean: We were oppressed. We still are.
Max: I read Valliere's book White Niggers. It made some sense but--
Réjean: Don't you dare quote Valliere to me. We were oppressed by our own politicians, by the church and by you **maudit Juifs.
( **Damn Jews)
Max: You don't really believe all that tripe.
Réjean : Don't tell me what I believe and what I don't believe. Mes parents both worked for the Jews. You people called them Goy and Shiksa. You paid them nothing, and they were supposed to act grateful and kiss your ass.
Max: I assure you, Monique has never been close to that part of my anatomy. [Réjean rises] I'm sorry, I shouldn't joke. Just remember Réjean , your parents live in a free country. They chose to work for Jews.
Réjean : They had no choice. I do. If it were up to me, and soon it will
cont'd.. be, we'd get rid of all of you. I'm sorry. It's the truth.
Max: An unbridled tongue --- Listen to me.
Réjean : I don't want to listen to you anymore.
Yetta: Isn't that what I told you Max? You're not wanted.
Max: [Rises and faces Réjean ] You will listen to me boy!
Réjean : I'm going to get Monique. [He starts to exit ]
Max: You will stay until I am finished with you.
Réjean: What for? You think you are special, eh? You're not. You're just another number, that's all you are. Just another Anglais to get rid of. You'll see. It won't be long.
Max: I am a number. 63272. Here I'll show you.
Réjean : Never mind. I don't care. 'Stie'!!
Max: You will listen to me boy!!
Réjean : **Va donc chiez!!
(**Piss off)
Max: [Whirls him around with great strength] Now. Don't move. [He starts to roll up his sleeve]
Réjean : I'm going to get Monique.
Max: [With a hint of danger] You will stay here until I am finished with you.
Réjean : What for?
Max: Your parents weren't bright enough to do anything but manual labour, so you whine about persecution and oppression. [He shows him the numbers tattooed on his arm. Réjean tries to turn his head but Max is too strong for him] You see that?
Réjean : Big deal. That doesn't mean nothing. Just some numbers.
Yetta: That's right, just some numbers. The Nazi's put them on during the war.
Réjean : So? What am I supposed to do?
Yetta: Those who were there don't like to talk about it but I wasn't there, so I can. Max was in a concentration camp.
Réjean : Okay. So he was in a concentration camp. What difference does that make?
Max: [Begins to laugh hysterically] What difference? What difference? Réjean , tell me. This new movement of yours, will they kill? Torture? What will they do?
Réjean : We will do whatever has to be done.
Max: Do you mean this or is this merely more rhetoric. Big talk from little men.
Réjean : You'll see monsieur. We're not afraid.
Max: [Ruminating] I see. Good Réjean . You can go get Monique now. I'm finished.
Yetta: But Max
Max: Leave it alone.
Yetta: Why should I? Six million Jews were killed. I can't just leave it alone when a man comes into my presence and says that he wants to get rid of us.
Max: Go ahead then. Talk to the boy.
Yetta: Haven't you ever heard of the holocaust Réjean ?
Réjean : Oui Madame. I heard of it. I saw some photo, too. So what?
Yetta: you saw some picture once. He saw pictures Maxie. Did you get a good look at them? At their faces. Their eyes? Look at him. Look at his eyes. I've known Max Farber for more than twenty-five years. He is a man who has had to bury his past. He was born in Germany. He spent his childhood at Auschwitz. He watched his parents die. You saw your parent's bitterness. He saw .
Max: Enough Yetta. Maybe later we'll talk some more. Réjean go find Monique.
Yetta: But Max-
Max: Go I said.
[ Réjean exits quickly ]
Yetta: Gayen D'rerd. * I don't understand it max. How could you let him go. How can you stomach such an attitude?
*( Go to Hell)
Max: I can't Yetta. I can't.
Yetta: Then why did you---
Max: I didn't want him here anymore.
Yetta: There are plenty like him here. Come away with me.
Max: No. he is unique. A rare jewel. An anachronism. He may prove to be useful.
Yetta: But----
Max: No buts. Now, it's better if I don't think about it anymore. Such memories need to be buried deep inside. Such memories [ emotions are welling up inside him] Such memories [ He withdraws.]
Pause
Yetta: Are you all right Max?
Max: Tell me what that means? All right. Under control. [ With a sigh] Yes, I'm all right. I'm fine.
Yetta: Maybe it would be better to let it out. It can't be good for you to keep pushing it down inside.
Max: [ Shakes his head.]
Yetta: I'm your friend Max. Let me help you.
Max: [ Slowly regains self-control. We can see the barriers dropping
cont'd.. into place] It's nothing. Paranoid. All Jews are paranoid. We see nazis waiting for us in every darkened hallway. The world is an anti-semite. persecution our birthright, paranoia our natural state of mind.
Yetta; You were in Auschwitz. Such memories don't easily disappear.
Max: No. They inhabit our dreams. They leak out unbidden in the strangest moments.
Yetta: Tell me about it.
Max: For years, whenever Molly would leave the room, I would tell her to be careful.
Yetta: Tell me Max.
Max: Tell you what? There is nothing to tell.
Yetta: You can't keep it inside forever. You'll burst.
Max I[Long pause] I have nothing more to say.
Yetta: Max, in all the years I've known you, I've kept my silence. I've seen your depressions. I've watched you disappear into your memories for days, sometimes for weeks on end. I've kept my silence. Please, don't shut me out now.
Max: [Still under immense control ] Thank you, but you couldn't possibly understand. I appreciate your concern.
Yetta: So cold Max. So controlled. " I appreciate your concern."
Max: I'll say this much so you'll understand. When the pain is too great, I exorcize it. I visit Molly's grave and we talkor I talk. There is an aura of peace in the cemetery.
Yetta: You can't leave your hurt in Molly's grave. Molly is gone. Let me help you.
Max: Thank-you no Yetta. You have your own burdens to bear.
Yetta: My god, Max. How blind can you be? Don't you understand? My biggest burden is that nobody needs me anymore. We can cont'd: help each other. Talk to me.
Max: [Can't bring himself to speak ]
Yetta: Molly once told me that sometimes, you grind your teeth so much that they ache for days. Maybe if you talk to me .
Max: Soon, you're leaving Yetta. Don't worry so much. I'll be fine.
Yetta: [Didn't listen] So you'll come with me. We'll comfort each other.
Max: I can't leave.
Yetta: Are you afraid? You have nothing with nothing
here. You can't talk. You can't leave. What can you
do?
Max: There is nothing to do. Why are you pushing so
much?
Yetta: What would Molly do Max? Let you grind your teeth
in silence?
Max: You are not Molly!
Yetta: She was a fool. God rest her soul, but she was a fool.
Max: Don't ---
Yetta: A whimpering fool. Afraid of her shadow ; afraid to let you out of her sight.
Max: She was ---
Yetta: An idiot. She didn't--
Max: Stop it!
Yetta: __ see the damage she was doing to you.
Max: STOP IT!!!
Yetta: She let you turn yourself into a Zombie.
Max: She was a Queen!
Yetta: What did she do for you, Max . Tell me. Tell me!
Max: She helped me to forget. She----
Yetta: Liar!!
Max: NO!
Yetta: She was a constant reminder of your pain.
Max: NO!
Yetta: She drained you dry.
Max: [Lifts his hand as if to strike her. Slowly he regains control and starts to put it down. He whimpers] no.
Yetta: No. Don't stop. Go ahead. Hit me . Show me you aren't dead.
Max: All right. Damn you to Hell!!! You want to know? I'll tell you. I'll make your blood boil with it. I'll turn your stomach. I saw a child killed by the S.S. A nursing child grabbed from its mother's breast. Taken by both legs and physically torn in two. I saw a ten-year old boy ripped to shreds by dogs while his parents were forced to watch. I saw a man greet his young wife after months of separation. As they clung together, a Nazi's axe clove his back. It penetrated halfway through her chest. Unfortunately, she lived for several months. Sorrow took her life. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you thirsty for more?
Yetta: [Quietly] What happened to you Max. Where were you?
Max: I don't
Yetta: From the beginning.
Max: [In a faraway voice] It was Shabbes. We had just lit the candles. The silverware was gleaming against the white linen cloth. Poppa looked so handsome at the head of the table. He was, he was an elegant man. Mama stood with the taper in her hand; a rose colored handkerchief covered her head. I was soon to be be Bar-mitzvah almost a man. I watched the ceremonies carefully, knowing that I would soon perform the rites. My younger brother and baby sister smelled of soap and talcum powder. Their eyes were shining in the candlelight. Little Chava had picked a bouquet of purple wild-flowers . [He can't
continue. The tears, repressed for so long, begin to flow.]
Yetta: [Softly.] Go on Max.
Max: They came to the street. The peace of Shabbat was broken by the cries of "Juden raus!!!" There was nowhere to hide. We had to obey. Molly lived in the house next door. She and her family stood beside us. We had always been close. As children, we did everything together. My papa started reciting the 'Shemah' We all joined in. Shemah Yisroel. Adonai elohainu. Adonai echod. Hear O Israel. The lord is our God. The lord is one. It was our final moment of tranquility. Molly edged closer to me. She took my hand as we waited for the others to come out of their houses She wore a blue cotton dress. It had the same purple wild flowers that little Chava had picked for the Shabbes. I could smell the tears on her face.The Germans laughed at our fear. One of them, an older man looked at us and there was a great sadness in his eyes. But the others Dr. Stiener, from down the street tried to run away and they shot him in the back. They took the women first. Molly too. They wouldn't even let my mamma kiss her children goodbye. I followed Molly and the little ones until the blue of her dress disappeared into the dark of the night.
My tateh was weeping silently. And his hand gripping mine was a vise. His lips moved in prayer. He I don't know. They killed them all The ovens I don't know. Every single one. Somehow, I survived. That is my greatest guilt. That I survived.
Yetta: Molly too.
Max: No Yetta, not Molly.
Yetta: But how can you say that?
Max: Molly was a victim too. I just took her a little longer to lie down and die, that's all.
Yetta: What? I don't under
Max: [In great pain] Her heart didn't stop. She took pills; sleeping pills.
Yetta: Mien Gott in himmel*. And you never told anyone? [Max shakes his head] How could you keep it inside?
*My god in heaven
Max: There is One day, she would be fine. The next, I would find her shivering in some dark corner. The nazis killed her as surely as if they had pulled the trigger. Who could I have told? What good would it have done?
Yetta: After the war, how did you find her?
Max: On the ship. On the way to America almost two years after the war. I had given up looking for her, for anyone. Then
cont'd.. suddenly, there was Molly. She was sitting by herself. Her eyes were dead. Her hair was I don't know. It was chopped and ragged. I stood watching her and for the first time since the war had ended, I wept.When I finally gathered up the courage to approach her, she didn't recognize me.
Yetta: How did ---
Max: I remembered our lullaby. My mama used to sing it to us when we were young children. [ Sings a few bars of Tumbala Laika.] Slowly, she remembered.
Yetta: Where did she get the pills?
Max: Molly always took pills. That's why she seemed so placid. cont'd.. Valium, Adivan, sleeping pills, ich vaiss vuss* She kept a closet full.
Yetta: Where did she get the pills?
Max: I got them for her. Are you satisfied? She needed them so I got them for her.
Yetta: No one's blaming you Max. you did what you had to do.
Max: [sighs] Do you want to know why I read so much? I want to understand how such things can happen.
Yetta: Have you found any answers?
Max: No. Only more questions.
Réjean and Monique burst shivering into the restaurant.
Monique: Mon Dieu it's cold. Give me something hot to drink Monsieur Farber. I never saw a storm like that. It hurts to walk one block.
Max: Coffee or schnaaps?
Monique: Coffee first.
Max: [ Brings coffee, then peers outside.] I can't see a thing out there.
Monique: Even the snow ploughs aren't moving.
Max: I have some blankets in the back.
Monique: Never mind. We'll be okay. Look at Réjean. He has to wear that little jacket. Twenty six years old and he still can't dress himself.
Réjean: Fatigue moi pas Monique
Monique: Fatigue moi pas. Fatigue moi pas. Ah! You make me so mad.
Réjean: Okay. Correct! Correct!!
Yetta: The taxis aren't running?
Monique: I didn't see one.
Yetta: I'd better call my David and tell him I'm all right. As if he should give two hoots. Max, it looks like we'll have plenty of time to finish our talk.
Max: It's finished Yetta. It's finished.
Yetta: Not yet Max . Oi vey iz mir. * The telephone is dead.
* Woe is me.
Max: Let me try.
Yetta: I can tell when a phone is dead. Max, I----
Max: I'd better check up on Nathan. It gets cold back there in the store room. I wasn't certain that you would come back Réjean. Nathan has some interesting souvenirs. War memorabilia. Perhaps I can convince him to show them to you later on. [ He exits with a secret smile. ]
Réjean: Anemez le donc en Floride Madame. Y'a pas de place pour Monsieur farber ici.
Yetta: What? Look mr. Revolutionary. If you have something to say to me and you want I should understand it, you'll have to speak to me in English.
Réjean: I said take him to Florida with you Madame.
Yetta: What do you think I'm here for, to chop gefilteh fish? Who knows? Maybe we're too old to change.
Réjean: You're never too old.
Yetta: Only a young firebrand like yourself would say that to a woman my age. Already, I'm too old for a lot of things sonny boy. If I could only.You fill in the blank, like I used to. I may be too old for passion boychic, but I am not too old for cont'd.. comfort and companionship. I am almost desperate for it.
Réjean: Well, we're not too old for passion, are we ma petite choux. Hey. You're not too old to watch are you Madame?
Monique: Niese moi pas* Réjean.
* Don't pester me.
Réjean: You see how much she loves me? Come on Cherie. Just one kiss. We're going to die tomorrow. Let's live for today.
Monique: What's that supposed to mean?
Réjean: Nothing.
Monique: You and your new friends. I don't like them.
Réjean: Forget about it.
Monique: My brave Réjean he thinks he's going to be another Che´.
Réjean: Watch out Monique. Tasse toi.*
*Be careful.
Monique: He went to Cuba last year. He came back a fool.
Réjean: Enough!
Monique: It's not enough. What did you mean we're going to die tomorrow.
Réjean: I was just talking, that's all.
Monique: You make me sick with that shit. It's only you and Leó and
cont'd.. Maurice. Everybody else thinks you're a fool.
Yetta: He didn't make me and Max feel so good either.
Monique: He told me you had a fight. He's not so bad Just sometimes. I apologize for him Madame. [Max re -enters] You too Monsieur Farber. Réjean told me what happened. I am sorry.
Réjean: Monique!
Monique: Reste tranquille toi.*
*Be quiet.
Réjean: J'ai seulment dis*
*I was only saying.
Monique: Tais toi.* [To Max] It's just his friends Monsieur. He's not like that. [ She give Réjean a look.]
*watch out.
Max: I see. He was only following orders. [ Gives a wry laugh.] I see.
Yetta: How is Nathan?
Max: All right Not bad He was crying in his sleep. Almost every cont'd.. night it's like that. Sometimes he wakes up screaming from his dreams. Never mind. He has something he wants to show you Réjean. He'll be out soon.
Yetta: What does he dream?
Max: Nothing. He won't talk about it. "Visions from the heat oppressed brain."
Yetta: What ?
Max: Shakespeare. I read too much Shakespeare.
Yetta: Never mind too much. You should hear him recite.
Yetta: One night, he got shikkered* from too much
schnaaps. He did the one from what's his name Shylock. It was frightening, he was so good. Do it now Max. Show them.
Max: Not now Yetta. This is not a time for ----
Yetta: Come on Maxie. What else do we have to do tonight?
Max: Don't be ridiculous.
Yetta: All right. I know when it's no. Maybe later. You should hear him. A regular Richard Burton.
Max: If I'm Richard Burton then you're Elizabeth Taylor.
Yetta: [primps her hair] I won't deny it.
Max: It's eleven o'clock. Let's see if CJAD has any news about the storm. [ he goes behind the counter and turns on the radio. He flips the stations until he finds his station]
Announcer:The Arctic air mass hovering over the area has sent the temperature plummeting down to minus twenty degrees. That's a record low for this date. Almost two feet of snow has fallen in the past six hours and the storm shows little sign of letting up. Police are warning people to stay indoors. Rescue missions are being carried out by snowmobile to remove people from stalled or snowed in cars. We remind you not to run your motors with all the windows closed. At least three people thus far have succumbed to carbon monoxide poisoning. If you are on the road. Stay in your car and wait for the police. Leave your heaters on but, again, please leave your windows [ Max turns it off. ]
Yetta: For this I left Florida. Why couldn't my Jordan have his Bar Mitzvah in a sensible month like May or June. My David usually plans things better than this.
Max: They'll probably have to postpone.
Yetta: Are you crazy? They had to book the synagogue three years in advance. They can't change the Haftora*. If I know my David, he'll rent a fleet of bulldozers.
*Reading
Monique: [To Max. ] What was your's like. Your bar Mit. .. Missva.
Max: I didn't have one.
Monique: How come?
Max: The atmosphere of the concentration camp was not exactly conducive to the celebration of ancient ritual.
Réjean: More bullshit.
Yetta: I've had just about enough of you Mr. Revolutionary.
Réjean: All you Jews want is to make lots of money and for the rest of the world to feel sorry for you.
Monique: Réjean! Tu mavais promis!*
*You promised me.
Yetta: And what do the Frenchies want. Poor Réjean, his people lost one lousy war and they've been whining for three
cont'd.. hundred years.
Monique: That's not fair either, what you're doing.
Yetta: Why should I be fair. He's the one that said he wanted to get rid of us. Where do you want us to go, big shot.
Réjean: How should I care? Go to Israel and make war with the Arabs.
Yetta: [ speaks to Réjean indicating Max] Look at him grinding his teeth so he won't have to say anything. Goyische Kopf*.
*Insult, literally meaning Christian head.
Monique: Monsieur Farber's a good boss Réjean leave him alone with your stupid stuff.
Réjean: You sound like my mother. " He's a good boss." He pays you minimum wage. He makes you speak his language. The first thing he told me when I came in here today was to speak English. I don't like it you work for Jews.
Monique: I don't care what you like. You don't own me. He's good to me. If you have to be so mad be mad at Les Anglaises. I like the Jews. Where I grew up, we were friends. My best friend on the block was Ethel Cohen. She always spoke French to me. It's not his fault that your parents worked for Jews that weren't nice.
Yetta: I know Ethel Cohen. Well Dubrofky now. Her mother's Condo is close to mine. We play mah jong in Florida. You grew up on Villeneuve?
Monique: That's right. I went to her wedding last year.
Yetta: I don't believe it. I was there too.
Réjean: They got too much money, the Jews. Bronfman, Stienberg. They own half the city. We should take it away.
Max: I don't want to have to listen to any more of this.
Yetta: So shut him up. Explain to him what it means to be persecuted.
Max: All the stories in the world won't convince him to change his outlook. He's not worth the effort.
Yetta: Then show him Max.
Max: Show him? [ interested] What do you mean show him?
Yetta: We have this night. None of us is going anywhere. Show him what it was like. Show us all.
Max: What are you trying to do Yetta?
Monique: I don't think that .
Max: The idea is insane.
Réjean: No. I like it. First I show you and then you show me. We make it a game.
Max: A game Réjean. I love to play games. Thank you Yetta. It's a wonderful suggestion.
Réjean: Sure. We got nothing else to do.
Max: [intrigued now] Such games can be very dangerous.
Yetta: And since when is Max Farber a coward?
Max: I have always been a coward, but I am curious . Are you willing to involve Monique in this little game of ours? I shall need Nathan as my partner.
Réjean: Certain.
Monique: Hey. I have a mouth. I can talk for myself.
Max: [Ignoring her] Well Réjean?
Réjean: Reste tranquille Monique. Je veux faire ça. Aide-moi donc.*
*Take it easy Monique. I want to do this. Help me with it.
Monique: Non! L'idee est stupide.
Max: Well?
Réjean: Okay.
Monique: Réjean!
Réjean: Monsieur. I have to talk to Monique.
Max: That won't be necessary. It's interesting Yetta. Perhaps we would do well together. Our thoughts are so in tune.
Yetta: And I thought I was speaking to a wall.
Max: [to Réjean ] Just for clarification. The idea is to demonstrate, from each of our differing points of view the meaning of persecution. Correct?
Réjean: Oui.
Max: [smiles] No holds barred. Be careful how you answer.
Réjean: Sure.
Monique: Both of you stop this right now. Tout de suite.
Max: I am not speaking to you Monique. Are you afraid, Réjean?
Réjean: [laughs] Don't worry so much Monique.
Monique: Why do you have to do this?
Réjean: Because I want him to know what it was like to be a Quebecois in an English world. What it was like for mes parents to beg for favors from the Jews ---
Max: Save it for the game. That is if you've truly decided to play.
Monique: He's acting crazy Réjean. It's not the first time.
Yetta: I think she's right. What's gotten into you Max?
Max: This is all your idea Yetta. [ he starts to laugh]
Réjean: We're playing . Don't worry so much Monique. What can happen. It's just a game of words.
Max: [ In a powerful voice] Number 85645. We are ready.
[ The door to the back room opens and Nathan emerges. He wears a Nazi uniform. A length of rope is draped across his shoulder and he carries a German Luger, which he points at Réjean's head.]You see, we have been ready for quite some time. I'm sorry to tell you this Réjean, but it is more than just a game of words.
The action freezes as the curtain falls on act one.
Curtain