FILLMORE EAST SCHEDULE

TEN WHEEL DRIVE FEATURING ANNIE SUTTON: WHO AM I?

MORNING MUCH BETTER - TEN WHEEL DRIVE

TWEET ON ITUNES

Three songs by Tweet Petite's Onions - "There It Is," "Twice In My Life" and "Where's the Heart?" - are now available on iTunes, Amazon and other internet download sites. The collection is called "Hype Vaccine." Come on. Show Tweet you care. He's gotta find some way to make some money off this blog.

THERE IT IS

TWEET PETITE SINGS!

The 112 year old guitarist gets together with Ten Wheel Drive.

RADIO FOR CATHEDRALS

WCBS FM DJ Joe Causi has started playing "Cathedrals" on his radio show and has been introducing it as "The greatest dance classic of all time!"

AIRFARE

They're playing "Eye of the Needle" on Airtran, Expressjet, Frontier and JetBlue.

TUESDAYS WITH DIOGENES (9/22/09)

1.

I don’t live in New York anymore. Which, for the purposes of this story, is just as well. When I did live in New York, about thirty years ago, the streets were full of homeless people – sleeping over the blasts of hot air that came up from the subway grates, or on broken benches in the parks, or at the Port Authority Bus Station. Sometimes you found them sleeping in the lobby of your building – particularly if you lived on the Upper West Side, as I was at the time I left town, where doormen were (then) rare.

But Rudy Giuliani kicked them out, because they uglified his city – and they were annoying too, even if they weren’t cadging for cash. Annoying by just being there and reminding you of something, like there but for the grace of God … and last week’s paycheck …

He kicked them into New Jersey, which was already ugly. If they were smart, they somehow hiked down 95 and ended up in Florida. You know, weather matters a lot when you don’t have a roof.

They don’t uglify Palm Beach, where I live. You would think Palm Beachers would let them into their town so they’d know there were people around who were uglier than they. But that’s not how they see it. They actually think they are beautiful (they should be, for what they spend on it). So they look down on people who are simply ordinary. They don’t need to feel superior to a real human mess.

Where the Florida homeless actually sleep I have no idea. But if I want to find one, I simply get on 95, drive to an exit, and come to a stop at the light.

Of course, I never wanted to find one. What the hell for? If they say they’re willing to work for food, what work do I have for them? I’m not going to replace my chef or my gardener with a homeless man; even if it turned out they were better at the work, I have a reputation to uphold, and I can just imagine what my fired chef would gleefully tell my neighbors on Jungle Road. And my butler is required to know what Palm Beach expects of me.

The good thing is that, as I’ve noticed, they’ll only walk down one or two cars when the light is red, holding out something like a KFC bucket for cash. They don’t go any further, even while the light’s still red. Either they’re lazy, as Ronnie Reagan said, or they’re pre-discouraged. They figure the thing is useless. Why court rejection?

I can understand that. I don’t like rejection myself, even though it’s been thirty years since I’ve experienced it. Well - one little one ...

So I had never spoken to one of them. Before Diogenes.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, about 2:30, on a very hot, clear September day. Temps in the low 90’s. Relentless sun. Who says Bentley knows how to air condition a car?

I don’t work – not in the sense that I have to be anywhere. My fourth novel sold ten million copies, as did my fifth, sixth and seventh. After that, I ran out of ideas. I tortured myself over that a while, until I realized that, financially speaking, I never had to write another word. And that I didn’t need to punish myself for having nothing to say. If everyone who had nothing to say did that, we’d be swimming a sea of agony. I hadn’t met anyone for two years who had had something to say. After I realized how apparently happy they all were at being idealess, I figured I could be comfortable in that state.

Of course, I was kidding myself. As I soon found out.

I usually spent some part of each day at my financial advisor’s. I forgot – they call themselves wealth managers now. In their world, if you have ten dollars, that is your wealth. Of course, if that’s what you’ve got, you don’t get through their door.

I had spent many years under the financial guidance of one or another zhlub at outfits like Smith Barney and E.F. Hutton-that-was. Until I realized that they had gotten rich having as little knowledge of finance as I had had of writing. I made a few lucky guesses; so did they. I finally figured out that if every college kid was going to work on virtual Wall Street, there had to be plenty of “wealth managers” who were dummies and had no clue.

So now that I had street cred – bundles of dough – I went looking for someone who advised only the very rich. I assumed any one who survived in that business had to be good, or they would have been found floating one night face down in the Intracoastal. Thank God I avoided Madoff – although I have to say a lot of the local Jews told me I had to go with him, and that if I did I would get invited to dinner at the best homes. I figured that anyone who did not wish to have dinner with the author of four blockbuster novels, unless he banked with Madoff, was someone it wasn’t necessary that I meet.

The guy I had now – it was a woman, actually – had given me some excellent advice. And, so far, no bad advice, which is far more important. There was something about her that made me want to sleep with her. I wasn’t sure whether it was her somewhat attractive looks – actually, her tiny turned-up nose was her only alluring feature – or whether it was her competence that was seducing me. In the end, it didn’t matter, because she said no. That was the little one.

This particular Tuesday I was headed for her office, to make another futile attempt, when I was distracted by one of my peculiarities: I needed to eat a cheeseburger at a dirty restaurant. I suppose they reminded me of happy days of yore, eating cheeseburgers in my innocence on Thompson and Bleecker Streets. Like, I happened to be in Nobody’s, on Bleecker Street, the night David Clayton Thomas got his ear bit off in there.

This was not a healthy practice – but then I had no healthy practices.

I protected my unhealthy practices furiously, since I assumed they had been one of the reasons for the success of my books. Which is why I never went to a shrink, even when I needed one. I didn’t want them to mess with the sources of my creativity, even by accident. Neither I nor they (the generic “they”, i.e., the shrinks I didn’t go to) had any real concept of what those sources were. As far as I knew, if they’d adjusted the way I flossed my teeth, my creative urges could have been wiped out by the change. As it turned out, it wasn’t my dental habits that killed them. I have no idea why I can’t write.

So I turned off 95 at Atlantic Avenue, intending to go east into Delray Beach and eat a burger in a place I knew to be disgusting enough to satisfy my urge.

As I sat at the light, I noticed to my left, off the roadway under the 95 overpass, one of those big concrete tubes they use for highway drainage projects. Work on Atlantic Avenue had been going on for a while. As it happened, the tube was laid horizontal to the avenue, so I could see through it from my driver’s seat. Or almost through it.

Because curled up in the tube, like a snail, at the end closest to me, was the dirtiest man I had ever seen.

He might have been dead, for all I knew. He didn’t move. And then I saw him open his eyes and fix them on me. And even from fifty feet away I was caught by those eyes. I saw that they were brilliant, which suggested brilliance behind them. And I knew, though I didn’t understand why, that I had to talk to him.

There was no place to park on Atlantic around 95, so I pulled off onto the grass to my left, turned my blinkers on, got out and took a long look at the front left tire, which was not in the view of the traffic coming off 95. Then I ambled over to the concrete tube.

His long hair was ratty and matted. It wasn’t so much he was coated as that he was thoroughly smudged. He wore a stained Hawaiian shirt, stained khaki pants and a pair of holed tennis shoes. No socks, but nobody around Palm Beach wore socks. I figured this was his concession to local style.

His eyes continued to engage mine as I approached him. When I got nearly to him, he grinned – his teeth were surprisingly good – and said: “Okay, ten bucks, I help you change your tire. Far as I can see, it ain’t flat – but for ten bucks I will play along with your delusion.”

“It isn’t flat,” I answered. Assuring him that I knew.

“So then why you come over here?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you.”

“Talk to me,” he drawled, still grinning. “You mean to tell or ask?”

“I’ve got nothing to tell you.”

“I bet you do. But go ahead, ask away.”

I crouched, so as to get my face level with his. He didn’t look any better from closer up. But he didn’t look any worse.

“You live here?” I asked him.

“Not particularly. Plenty of these tubes all over the place.”

“You’re like a hermit crab.”

“Accurate simile.”

That set me aback. And had me leaning forward, too. “Are you disabled?” I asked.

“In a way.”

“What way?”

“That’s a awful personal question,” he scowled. “From some Bentley-driving stranger.”

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“It ain’t physical. I can walk, I can talk, I can lift my own weight, and my dick comes up when I want it to.”

I couldn’t imagine what chance he would get to use it. He knew that’s what I was thinking, and he laughed.

“You be surprised who wants to fuck me.”

“Would I?”

“Sure. Might be one of your neighbors. What they say – no accounting for tastes?” He saw that had intrigued me. “Jaguar pulls up to this corner near every other day. Parks right where you did. Fuck in the back seat. Sweet thing, always wearing pearls. Don’t take her dress off, just hike it up, sits on my lap and rolls on my Johnson. Don’t wear undies. None of them do. Secrets of the clean pristine. Come like a locomotive.”

“And after that?”

“After that? She reach out and hug me, hold me close. Sometimes she start to cry. Say she wishes she could take me home, but … “you know how it is.” I say “How is it?” But she don’t answer me. I say, “Look, if I’m good enough to fuck, I’m good enough to love.” And she says, “I do love you. Now get out of the car.”

I said: “Doesn’t that bother you?”

He laughed again. “Why should it? I don’t want to live her life. She take me home, I be gone inside a week. She have to come back here to find me, and it start all over again.”

“So you like your life …”

“Not what I like that matters. More what I want to avoid.”

“Which is?”

“You want to know that, better next time bring a chair. You ain’t got the knees for that conversation.”

“You’ll talk to me again?” I said, a bit surprised.

“Yeah. Any time she ain’t here. She gets priority, out of respect.”

I asked: “Do you talk to her like this?”

“No. She climbs right on. But I would, if she wanted to. Don’t know a thing about her, and she don’t know a thing about me. Kinda sad, you know. But the fucking is glorious.”

"That’s rare,” I chuckled.

He picked up a hand and stuck a finger out at me. “That what you think? Nobody’s fault but yours, Bentley. Every fuck is glorious, far as I’m concerned. She could stink of puke, it still be glorious. She letting you up in her innards. She giving her secret to you. You understand that, and you give her back what she giving you, ain’t no such thing as an inglorious fuck.”

Wish I’d known that thirty years ago.

“What’s your disability, then?” I went on.

“I don’t think like normal people do.”

“You mean you’re learning disabled?”

“Me?” Now he guffawed. “It’s you all who can’t learn what I know.”

And I heard myself saying: “Teach me.” And meaning it. Shocking myself down to the soles of my shoes.

“Ask the right questions,” he said. “And listen to what I respond. You manage that, you way ahead of the rest of them. You think you can do that, Bentley?”

I promised: “I will try.”

He leaned back and closed his eyes. “I be in this tube next Tuesday.”

Copyright 2009 Aram Schefrin

TO READ CONTINUING CHAPTERS, GO TO TWEETPETITE.COM AND CLICK ON THE DIOGENES LOGO.

MARWAN AT MIAMI BOOK FAIR

My novel Marwan will be at the Miami Book Fair November 8-15. Check it out at the AuthorHouse pavilion.

WHERE'D HE GET IT?

I just finished reading Michael Chabon's "The Yiddish Policemen's Union." At first I found it a delightful conceit - that Israel had lost the 1948 war and that the Jews had been given a temporary refuge in Alaska. But then I read on. Chabon needed a denouement, and it's quite possible I have figured out where he got it.

The denouement begins on page 290, on which Chabon describes an armed camp surrounded by electrified fence, inside of which is a herd of cows. (See page 14, etc., of "The Tenth Cow," and page 130 etc.) On page 295 one of Chabon's cows is identified as the red heifer (TC page 20). On the same page the significance of the red heifer is explained (TC page 95). Contained within this explanation is the note that temple artifacts would have to be reconstructed for the Messiah to come (TC page 105). On page 312 a scheme begins to be outlined. On page 315 it is explained that for the scheme to be successful, the Dome of the Rock must be destroyed (TC page 118). A character, talking about the Dome, says "It isn't a mosque, Meyerle. It's a shrine." The line in TC at page 26 is "People will tell you it's a mosque, but it isn't; it's a shrine."

On page 322 Chabon begins to imply that there is a US government plot, using the red heifer, to destroy the Dome, rebuild the Temple and usher in the time of Messiah. That is central to TC, and it does not appear in any other source before TC. It suggests that the FAA has destroyed a file relating to this cow - as opposed to the Israeli agencies discussed by Teddy in TC. On 323, Chabon states that a group of messianic Jews have banded together to attack the Dome - another central element of TC. On page 324 Chabon invents the Moriah Institute as deeply involved in the plot. In TC it was the Bar Kochba Institute. Chabon states that American Jews are financing this plot - another central tenet of TC.

On page 330 Chabon describes recreated Temple implements displayed on pedestals (TC at page 103). On 331 he describes a scale model of the Temple (TC at 102 and 93). On page 336 Chabon states that the red heifer was born in Oregon and then flown into the Alaskan Jewish community (TC at 59, where the heifer is flown from Florida to Israel - and remember Alaska for Chabon is a stand-in for Israel). On page 339 Chabon states that the plot fulfills the divinely inspired mission of the president of America - again, a major point in TC. On page 342, Chabon posits that Christian fundamentalists are behind the plot (TC at page 190). On page 344 he explains that some Orthodox Jews are opposed to the plot on theological grounds (TC at page 101). On page 345 he explains that the red heifer was produced by in vitro fertilization - going not quite as far as TC did in implying that the heifer was not the result of a normal reproduction process. And, finally, Chabon implicates a former Jewish terrorist in the plot to blow up the Dome (see Shaya's father in TC) - although in Chabon's book the Dome is blown up, while in TC the plot is frustrated.

I should note that throughout Chabon's book there are offhand references to a talking chicken announcing the coming of the Messiah. In TC it was a talking carp - referencing a true story I drew from the New York Times.

And so on.

Now, it is possible that Chabon came up with this stuff through reading the same source material I did, and through the same reasoning process - although the similarities to TC are striking, particularly in how the material is fit together.

But at the end of his book Chabon lists a number of sources. Not one of them would be a source for information on the red heifer or any of the points I noted above that he made. He does say that he initially wrote a six-hundred page draft with the same characters, but a completely different story. Where did the new story come from?

Chabon's book was first published in 2007. The print version of TC came out in 2008. But the podcast version of TC - which was a reading of the book - was published in 2005 and 2006. And, if I remember right, the Tenth Cow website was put up in 2006.

So - just sayin'

TENTH COW IS IPHONE APP

My novel "The Tenth Cow" is now an iPhone app. Get it in the iTunes app store. This is an updated version to take into account political changes since the first publication.

HELP!

I have written a libretto based on Mary Todd Lincoln's incarceration in a mental hospital. I had a composer to set to score it, but he has gotten too busy. As it is some of my best work, I have posted it online here. If anyone knows a composer who would like to work with it, please let me know by commenting on this post.

LIBRETTO ACT ONE

©2009 Aram Schefrin

ACT ONE

An elegant hotel room in Chicago in 1875. There are a double or queen bed (stage center rear), a round dining table (stage left center) and several large chairs with ottomans( stage right forward). On the chairs are piled shopping bags and boxes which spill over onto the floor. There are curtained windows on both sides of the bed, behind bed tables with lamps. The curtains are closed. Stage left rear there is a door to a bathroom. Stage left front there is a door to a hallway.

In the room is A HOUSEKEEPER, a black woman, tidying up the room. .She wears a dress of lavender, gray and purple with a touch of white at the wrist.

MARY LINCOLN enters from the hallway, carrying more boxes. She is dressed entirely in black, appropriate for the period, including a veiled hat and gloves. She has dark hair. The clothes look quite expensive. She stops in the doorway, and calls back out in the hall, frantically:

MARY

Help! There is a woman in my room!

A woman I do not know!

HOUSEKEEPER

(Startled)

I’m the housekeeper, Ma’am.

MARY

You say so!

She is trying to steal my money, my bonds!

(To HOUSEKEEPER)

Well, them you shall never get

Everyone wants my papers

But they haven’t got them yet

I keep them always on my person

Sewn into my hem.

(She shows where they are)

Here.

You work for the hotel, you say?

Is that your contention, dear?

HOUSEKEEPER

Yes, Ma’am. I clean the rooms.

MARY

(Advancing into the room)

They should not allow you into one’s room

When one is out of it

Heaven knows what you are doing

When no one’s watching you

HOUSEKEEPER

(Frightened)

Ma’am, I swear …

MARY

You’ve taken something …

HOUSEKEEPER

No, Ma’am!

MARY

I have no doubt of it!

HOUSEKEEPER

Ma’am …

MARY

Have I not suffered sufficiently

Without this penance too?

HOUSEKEEPER

I didn’t!

MARY

Didn’t what?

HOUSEKEEPER

I haven’t ..

MARY

(Puts boxes on the table)

Of course you have.

I’m afraid I shall have to have you discharged.

HOUSEKEEPER

Ma’am, please!

MARY

No – if I have you discharged

You’ll be free to take advantage of

What I shouldn’t have told you …

And if you continue working here

You will at least, I hope, have some scruples …

HOUSEKEEPER

Ma’am, I’ve taken nothing!

MARY

(Removes her gloves and hat and lays them on the table)

You may continue your efforts –

HOUSEKEEPER

Thank you, Ma’am! That’s a relief.

MARY

(More or less to herself)

But I’m perfectly certain that she is a thief.

HOUSEKEEPER

(Heading for the hallway door)

Everything’s done, Ma’am. I was just about to go …

MARY

With something of mine in your pocket, no doubt.

HOUSEKEEPER

No no no!

MARY

She’s appropriated something

But she’ll not confess

And I shall never know what she’s got

Since I haven’t a clue what I possess …

Well, then.

Have you cleaned the bathroom?

HOUSEKEEPER

(Stopping)

Yes, Ma’am.

MARY

(Approaching HOUSEKEEPER)

There is a window in the bathroom.

Was someone looking in?

HOUSEKEEPER

Ma’am?

MARY

(Bustling about to no particular purpose)

Looking in …

He has red hair, and a red goatee

And a very peculiar chin

The blind must be down

Did you pull it down?

HOUSEKEEPER

Yes, Ma’am, I did.

MARY

Good.

Although sometimes I think I might let him

Keep me company - if he would …

HOUSEKEEPER

(Heading for the door again)

Ma’am, I’ll be going …

MARY

(Grabbing her)

No. Don’t go.

Don’t go. Don’t go.

I do not sleep, you see

Can’t close my eyes

For every time I do

Somebody dies

And then they come to me

Stand by my bed

And with awful sighs they tell me

It is my fault they are dead

When I give in to sleep

The spirits come

I can’t call out to them

I’m stricken dumb

They point their fingers

They name my name

And then they moan at me and say that

I have killed them, I’m to blame

And I have pled

And I still pray

That they watch over me

But not this way

Not this way

There is a wall across my words

I can’t push through

I cannot ask them: For God’s sake,

What could I do? What could I do?

I entreat you, miss,

To spend the night

I’ll gladly pay you for your time

Until daylight

If you will talk to me

As the hours creep

Keep me awake, make certain that

I do not sleep

HOUSEKEEPER

Ma’am …

MARY

And if by chance, no fault of yours,

I drift away

And the spirits come again

I wish you’d say

I loved them very much

And meant the best

And beg them to be kind

And let me rest

HOUSEKEEPER

(About to refuse to stay)

Ma’am, I can’t …

MARY

No, wait wait wait!

There is something you must see.

(She goes to the bags on the chairs, pulls a gorgeous necklace out of a shopping bag, holds it to her neck)

Look, it’s magnificent, isn’t it?

Irresistibly beautiful.

I’ll give it to you if you’ll stay the night …

HOUSEKEEPER

Ma’am, they’ll think I’ve pinched it …

MARY

I shall tell them it’s all right ..

Look how it glitters in the light

As if it is going to ignite …

Well, it might!

HOUSEKEEPER

Ma’am, it’s too much ..

MARY

Yes, quite …

But I will never put it on

I’ve worn no jewels since my husband’s gone

I can’t imagine why I bought it

(Pulls a red dress out of a box or bag)

And this! You can have this, too.

I’m in mourning

I cannot wear it

HOUSEKEEPER

My condolences, Ma’am. You are in mourning for whom?

MARY

For whom? There are so many.

For Robert, Robert my son!

HOUSEKEEPER

Has he just died, Ma’am?

MARY

I pray he is not dead yet

But ill, he is very ill

And soon he will

It has been ten years

It is the end of Robert’s time

I always thought I would die first

I got that wrong

HOUSEKEEPER

Where might your son be, Ma’am?

MARY

Here, of course - in Chicago

That’s why I have come here

To take care of him

It will not!

It will not be my fault!

HOUSEKEEPER

Have you seen him yet, Ma’am?

MARY

(Angrily, pacing)

They tell me that he is out! Out!

Doing his lawyering!

They say he isn’t sick at all,

But he is, I can feel it

Just as I did with Willie, and Tad

Mr. Lincoln has told me Robert is bad

And they try to conceal it!

But I can feel it!

Robert, dearly beloved son

Live for your mother’s sake! Live!

You were always such a peculiar boy

But now you are what is left of my joy

And you must live!

Robert, my last, my only one

Quiet my heartache! Live!

Always so reticent, so cool

Thinking your mother a tasteless fool

But I forgive

Always that look of scorn on your face

Always the disdain

Humiliation, contempt, dismay

As if I always behaved that way

To cause you pain

Robert, I am what I must be

And even though you don’t love me

If you die, I shall be driven wild

I cannot bury another child

You must live!

I cannot bear it!

How do you dare it?

To die, you wretch, you ingrate!

And leave me no one to love?

Robert!

Robert.

Robert …

I’ve always helped you

You never asked, you always expected it

And have I ever neglected it?

You wish to believe you’ve never needed me

No word of thanks ever greeted me

Yet all that I have I shall give

All that I have I shall give, I swear it,

All that I have shall I give

To you, from this hour, if you will live!

(Suddenly quiet, endearing)

What is your name, dear?

HOUSEKEEPER

Mary, Ma’am.

MARY

Ah. So is mine.

Will you stay, then, Mary?

Please. Stay and talk to me.

I do not sleep, you see …

HOUSEKEEPER

All right, I will stay, Ma’am.

MARY

Ah. You see? I can breathe.

HOUSEKEEPER

Is there anything else I can do for you?

MARY

Let me think. Well.

We can talk about might-have-beens

You can listen to me confess my sins

You can hold my hand when it begins …

You can show me what’s in my shopping bags

I have been in the stores all day

But I don’t know what I came home with …

HOUSEKEEPER

Yes, Ma’am.

(Sits with the packages, rummages, pulls a black hat out of a bag)

A hat, Ma’am ..

MARY

(Brightly)

Oh! A hat!

I used to wear the most gorgeous hats!

I met Prince Napoleon in a hat.

We both had hats, as a matter of fact

So did Abraham

You can’t have that, Elizabeth

I shall need it for the funeral

What else did I buy?

I don’t recall …

HOUSEKEEPER

Curtains, Ma’am? (Pulling them out)

MARY

Whatever for?

I haven’t had a house for years

I live in boardinghouses and

Occasional hotels …

Perhaps for the bathroom window?

HOUSEKEEPER

The window has curtains, Ma’am …

MARY

Close them

And all the rest of them

Dark is best for the night …

HOUSEKEEPER

(Going to do as she’s bid)

Yes, Ma’am

MARY

The gas lights

I’ve not requested them

Too bright! Too bright!

Give me candlelight

(HOUSEKEEPER lights candles, douses the gas. The room dims)

Elizabeth, have you any idea who I am?

HOUSEKEEPER

It is Mary, Ma’am. Like you. And no, I don’t.

MARY

How old are you?

HOUSEKEEPER

Nineteen.

MARY

So you were only nine …

Do you remember the war?

Do you remember the President?

HOUSEKEEPER

My mamma took me to see the train

That brought him back to Springfield

She made me walk by his casket

I’m afraid of death

MARY

Death is nothing to fear, dear.

It’s only moving on

I’m afraid of living too long

After they’re all gone …

He never quivered, you know

His head drooped upon his chest

And his eyes closed –

That was all.

He breathed until the morning

But I think his spirit fled

In the moment the bullet struck him

for he was never once moved by my anguish.

And that was not like him

(Now again bright, angry)

Do you know what this hotel charges?

My dear, it is outrageous!

Unbearable, for a woman who has to

Scrimp and squeeze each cent

Robert said I could stay at his house

But I cannot stand his spouse

And to me, from her, no reverence comes

So I’ve had to spend ridiculous sums

For this alleged luxury lodging

(Sudden anguish)

My God! I gave you my husband

And you leave me penniless!

(Then distracted)

A wandering Jew stole my wallet

On the train that brought me here

He tried to poison my coffee, too

But I caught him at it

They followed me to Chicago

From Jacksonville, two of them -

But they disappeared when Robert

Met me at the train.

HOUSEKEEPER

But you said you hadn’t seen him …

MARY

I said no such thing.

Robert was here, staying here

In this hotel

In the very next room,

Which that door takes you to.

But he left – he said it was because

I would not let him sleep

HOUSEKEEPER

What I heard, Ma’am, was that

You had run out into the hallway

Heading for the lobby

With your clothes half off

MARY

Lies.

HOUSEKEEPER

That your son tried to stop you

And you screamed he was murdering you

MARY

(Amused)

Well – so you do know who I am.

HOUSEKEEPER

Only now I realize …

Putting together what I have heard with

What I see

MARY

And what is it you see, dear?

Describe it to me.

(There is a rapping on the back wall)

Excuse me, Elizabeth.

A bit of business to do.

(She goes to the wall, leans in to it)

Give me back my wallet,

You thieving Jew!

(Goes back to HOUSEKEEPER)

We were saying …?

Ah, yes. What do you see?

HOUSEKEEPER

Ma’am, I wouldn’t like to say …

MARY

(Nastyish)

After all the awful things that

Have been said about me,

Do you really think you will come up with

Something I have not yet heard?

HOUSEKEEPER

You do look a bit disheveled, Ma’am …

MARY

Well, I am disheveled.

Why shouldn’t I be?

I should like to hear more

Of what you think of me

Would you say that I look “dumpy?”

Or only “somewhat stout”?

Would you say I look ambitious?

Would you say I look “tricked out”?

Is my head too big for my body –

Or my body too big for my head?

Do I look to you like a woman

Who disrespects the dead?

Would you say that I look like a spendthrift?

Would you say that I am sly?

Would you say that I look like a midwife or

A rebel spy?

Do I look gaudy? Impudent?

Greedy, vulgar, a termagant?

Do I look like a malcontent?

Do I? Tell me.

Have I neglected my children?

Do I not know my place?

Am I America’s

National disgrace?

Did I deny my husband

Sexual release?

Or did I deny him any chance

Of a moment of inner peace?

All that is what has been said of me

So tell me, entre nous,

Do I look like any of those

Horrible things to you?

(She goes to a bag, brings out a handful of daguerrotypes, shows one to HOUSEKEEPER)

No, dear,

I don’t expect you to answer me

What could you possibly say?

But, here,

This is how I have managed to look

In my day.

HOUSEKEEPER

(They sit on the chairs)

My Lord, Ma’am, you were beautiful!

MARY

(Straightforward, smiling)

The dress and the headdress were beautiful

Not the person in them

But we did our darndest

With what we had

(She rises and heads toward stage center)

My husband thought I was beautiful

I never corrected him

What I was was charming,

Coquettish, coy …

ABRAHAM LINCOLN appears at center, looking gawky and shy

He said: Miss I would like to dance with you

In the worst way

(Laughing)

And, do you know, that is exactly what he did!

(They dance awkwardly, LINCOLN stepping on her feet; then LINCOLN fades away, leaving her center)

As long as he lived

I tried to make him presentable

Make his pants longer,

make his socks match.

(Returning to the chairs, she brings out another picture)

And how do I look in this one, dear?

HOUSEKEEPER

Very happy. So does he.

MARY

(Sits again)

You recognize Mr. Lincoln’s face?

HOUSEKEEPER

Yes. I do.

MARY

Of course when that picture was taken of me

He was some years dead.

HOUSEKEEPER

(Shaken)

What?!

MARY

(Giggling)

No, dear Elizabeth

He was not a ghost

This is a photographer’s artifice

But you see how he stands behind me

With his hands light on my shoulders?

The picture is a lie

But it depicts the truth

HOUSEKEEPER

I beg your pardon, Ma’am. What truth?

MARY

He was difficult

Difficult

He would not – could not – tell me

What he felt

And yet he’d touch my shoulder

And my heart would melt

Because I knew

He had dreams

Bad dreams

He would wake up speaking gibberish

With his fingers curled

(She demonstrates)

In the day he’d fade away into

Another world

But I knew

He was despondent

He was morose

He would not allow me

To hold him close

But he loved me

I know he loved me

He didn’t have to say it

I knew it anyway – in

The way a woman always knows

Elizabeth, I know you

Disapproved of him

You thought he was awkward

And his prospects slim

And my romantic feelings

Were a foolish whim

What you didn’t understand was that

I knew his mind

I knew that he was brilliant

And always kind

And I did not give a fig

That he was unrefined

I knew what he could be

If he listened to me

So I was difficult

Difficult

I would not permit him

To drift away

I kept him focused

Every day

I turned him into

My protégé

And yet he loved me

I know he loved me

They said he married me for money

For the family connection

They said he never felt

Any real affection

That it was that Rutledge girl he loved

But I knew!

I knew!

It is true that he told me no

After he told me yes

He was terrified to marry me

I know he was in agony

Could not sleep, could not eat

Could not speak, refused to meet

But the failure he feared

Was his, not mine

That he was unable to combine

And it had nothing whatever to do

With the fact that I was a nagging shrew

And yet he placed a ring on my hand

And what was inscribed inside the band

Was “Love Is Eternal” – and so you see

How I know that he still loves me

(Thunder and lightning)

MARY

(Panicky)

Is it raining? Go and look!

Go go go go!

Look look look!

HOUSEKEEPER

(Looking out window)

Yes, Ma’am. It is raining.

MARY

It rained the day of my wedding

It rained on Willie’s funeral

It rained on the morning my husband died

(She grabs her head)

Not again! Oh, God! My head!

(She points at a chair)

There is a bottle in the bag

(HOUSEKEEPER begins to look for it)

Quickly, girl, for Jesus’ sake!

(HOUSEKEEPER finds bottle, hands it to MARY, who chugs from it)

I’ll be better in a moment.

Please don’t talk.

Come, let’s lie down on the bed

The chloral hydrate will make me sleep

But you must remain awake

For they will come

(They lie down. HOUSEKEEPER staying as far from MARY as possible)

No, no, you must come closer, dear

Don’t take up the president’s space …

(HOUSEKEEPER moves over warily to the center of the bed)

And if by chance ….

HOUSEKEEPER

And if by chance

DUET

I (You) drift away

And the spirits come again

I wish you’d say (Then I will say)

I (You) loved them very much

And meant the best

And beg them to be kind

And let me (you) rest

MARY

Do you know how long it’s been

Since the heat of two bodies warmed my bed?

But I must not fall asleep until

We see the night-blooming cereus

I know you remember that flower, dear

It blooms only once a year

And only in the dark of the night

By the morning the blooms are dead

But for one night they smell so sweet

My dear mother would wake me up

And let me watch them open and die

And I would sit by the window nights

And drink up the scent of heliotrope

And read French poets – Alphonse Marie

Louise de Prat de Lamartine:

"Un seul être vous manque

et tout est dépeuplé."

Ah oui, c’est vrai.

(Thunder and lightning)

MARY

(Springs off the bed)

Oh, God. Oh, my God.

(Runs to the medicine bottle and takes another swig. Lights go up and we are in a ballroom in the White House during the War. Dance music of the period strikes up. A large crowd is gathered in small groups, and MARY and THE PRESIDENT greet a receiving line, MARY now in a rose moiré silk hoopskirt dress with ample décolletage, arms and neck bare; pearl earrings, a pearl necklace, a pearl bracelet; her hair is put up, parted in the middle, drawn smoothly over her ears under a cache-peigne of jasmine. She carries, and constantly waves, a fan. LINCOLN wears tophat and cutaway. The crowd is generally elegantly dressed. The crowd’s lines should be dispersed as much as possible; the larger the cast, the wider the dispersal. This being a hallucination, there should be something physically odd about the guests.)

CHORUS

Look at this! This is quite a sight!

It’s all slightly off, there’s nothing quite right

In what passes for an elegant night

In the view of the hillbilly socialite

The not quite perfected, the never-has-been

Country bumpkin Republican Queen

Everything’s just a tad overdone

She has the panache of Attila the Hun

(MARY laughs exuberantly)

Does she think she will impress anyone

In the crème de la crème of Washington?

This pennyweight Empress Josephine

Who wants to be the Republican Queen

I

It could not have been elegant anyhow

Since all the best folks are in Richmond now

II

I beg your pardon?

I

Well, it’s true!

Except for me – and, of course, for you

MARY

(Shaking a hand on the line)

Why, general, now that you’re minding the store

I do hope you will win this war

Mr. Lincoln is counting upon you so

He tells me all your secrets, you know

I

Look how she talks to that officer!

II

As if they’d sat down over coffee, sir,

To discuss the coming battle plan

III

Equal to equal – man to man

CHORUS

How brazen she is! How terribly bold

She’s got the general button-holed

No doubt he’s been well and truly told

Who wears the pants in the Lincoln fold

I

Un-ladylike!

II

Arrogant!

III

Obscene!

CHORUS

The domineering Republican Queen

MARY

(To a guest in line)

So pleased you are here, Monsieur Delafond

I hope you will join my Tuesday beau monde

We talk about books, and scandal, and life

(Sotto voce, coy)

And you’re not permitted to bring your wife

(General gasp as the guest speaks to her, silently)

Ah! You want a position for your son?

I imagine that can be done

His resumé needs burnishing

(Sotto voce)

And this house requires more furnishing

Comprenez-vous?

DELAFOND

Oh, yes, I do.

I

All she has to do is say a word

And Lincoln obeys it

II

Yes, I heard that

When Lincoln refused to do what she bid

He slept alone until he did

III

Well, I’m not surprised that’s how it went

Since she calls herself “Mrs. President.”

I & III

He can’t fend her off, he hasn’t the will

IV

The miserable imbecile

II

He’s knock-kneed, warty and asinine

IV

He can’t choose a decent bottle of wine

II and III

He doesn’t speak, it’s all shriek and squeak

I

He spilled tea on my Paris gown last week

CHORUS

But at least he’s not a hypocrite

He seems to know that he doesn’t fit

That he hasn’t the charm, and lacks the wit

As opposed to that fat little arrogant twit

Who vaunts her position and vents her spleen

Bow down before the Republican Queen

MARY

(To a black couple on the receiving line)

Thank you for coming. I want it made clear

That you are very welcome here

(The music stops dead. Everyone stands and stares, mouths open. After a moment of silence, the music starts up again.)

HOUSEKEEPER (AS GUEST)

Your home is lovely.

MARY

Thank you dear.

It’s not mine, of course. It belongs to the nation

But you approve of my decoration?

I

Curtains from Paris, rugs from Rouen

II

Men are dying while this goes on!

III

Haviland china, Dorflinger glass

IV

For the reckless delight of this horse’s ass

I and III

Extravagance for the parvenus

II and IV

While our boys have no blankets and no shoes

I

She’s spending the government budget flat

II

And I saw her bargaining for a hat!

CHORUS

(Gasp)

You didn’t!

IV

Shocking!

CHORUS

Who she thinks she is we have not guessed yet

Is it Sojourner Truth or Marie Antoinette?

She’s probably tripled the national debt

While soldiers suffer she throws a fete

Perhaps we should bring back the guillotine

For this horror, this blight, the Republican Queen

(As the set fades, MARY, exuberant, tosses off her hat, her gloves and her shoes. As she sings the following, the set as it was returns, with the bed central. LINCOLN stands beside it, looking down.)

MARY

A triumph! If I do say so!

We have swept them off their feet

Washington is realigned

Those I invited are now the elite

Those I did not have been consigned

To the sallow ranks of the out-of-mind

Soon to be out of sight as well

Country bumpkin? Moi? Do tell!

(But she realizes that LINCOLN has not moved and is staring at the bed. Suddenly filled with dread)

Who is in the bed, Father?

Who is in the bed?

Is it our son? Is it Willie?

Is he … ?

(LINCOLN doesn’t respond. She bends to look closer at the bed; then with a long shriek of immense pain, she goes to her knees. In a low, almost catatonic voice:)

He was so sick

And I knew it

I had watched his body spasm

And everything inside him come out of him

And I had to have my party

I had to have my victory …

Quel crime avons-nous fait

pour mériter de naître ?

(Slowly and balletically, she climbs into the bed. LINCOLN disappears.)

Willie, Willie, little man

Tell me, tell me if you can

How beautiful is Heaven

How sweet is Jesus’ smile to see

And have you met the Lord?

Willie, is it lovely there?

Are fruits and flowers everywhere?

Are they kind to children

Who leave their mothers suddenly

With no consoling word?

I know you’re in a better place

Where there’s no pain

But don’t forget me lying here

Spinning on this worldly sphere

Come and whisper in my ear

And explain

Willie, Willie, tell me when

You and I will meet again

Will it be in Heaven

Or will you come to comfort me

Tell me please where will it be

And when

And whether you’ll watch over me

Til then

(Willie, dressed in white, slowly materializes in dim light at the foot of the bed.)

Willie! Willie! Is that you?

Come! Come! Come to me!

(Willie moves around the side of the bed to MARY’s head, reaches out and takes her hand.)

Oh, Willie!

Are you all right, baby?

(Willie nods.)

Do you forgive me, son?

(Willie nods again.)

Will you come to me often?

That will make me so happy.

WILLIE

You will never be happy, mama. (And Willie disappears.)

MARY

Oh, no! God! Oh Jesus! No!

Willie, Willie, tell me when

You and I will meet again

If we meet in Heaven

I promise I’ll be happy then …

(There is a fairly long musical interlude during which nothing happens. Towards the end of the interlude, the ringing of a small hand bell is woven into the music. Then a WOMAN, in white as WILLIE was, appears at the side of the bed.)

MARY

Mama? Is that you, Mama?

MOTHER

Yes, my love.

MARY

Mama, I’ve longed to see you …

MOTHER

You were so young when I died …

MARY

Is Willie with you in Heaven?

MOTHER

By my side.

MARY

Is Heaven beautiful?

MOTHER

More than you can know.

MARY

Everyone’s dying, Mama

MOTHER

It’s always been so.

MARY

It’s so hard …

MOTHER

But you must learn

Before it is another’s turn

You’ve always met each turning leaf

With too much joy, or too much grief

You’ve greeted every twist of fate

With too much love, or too much hate

It’s been a month that Willie’s dead.

You are not. Get out of bed.

(MOTHER extends her hand; MARY takes it and gets out of bed, still in her red party gown. MARY moves away from the bed and into the room, as MOTHER disappears.)

MARY

Send me my dressmaker!

I need mourning dress

(The lights come up bright as the HOUSEKEEPER, playing MRS. KECKLEY, comes in, dressed in lavender, gray and purple with a touch of white at the wrist. She meets MARY at center stage)

MARY

Ah, Mrs. Keckley.

Thank you for coming on such short notice.

MRS. KECKLEY

You always call me on short notice, Ma’am.

And I always come.

MARY

Yes, you do.

That’s why I retain you.

MRS. KECKLEY

And sometimes you pay me, too.

MARY

Think about all the business you get

Because people know I use you

MRS. KECKLEY

Yes, Ma’am, I think about that all the time.

(MRS. KECKLEY removes MARY’s red dress. MARY stands in corset and crinolines.)

This mourning dress

What shall I make it of? Bombazine?

MARY

What? Have you forgotten who I am?

MRS. KECKLEY

That would be pretty much impossible, Ma’am.

MARY

(Laughs)

It would, wouldn’t it.

But bombazine? Certainly not.

What is Queen Victoria wearing now?

MRS. KECKLEY

Henrietta, or drap du nord.

That’s what the newspapers say.

MARY

Very well then, Elizabeth. Drap du nord.

I will not be outdone by Victoria.

MRS. KECKLEY

(From here, as they decide on elements of dress, MRS. KECKLEY puts them on MARY)

Trimmed with crepe from Courtauld’s?

MARY

Of course. Make five of those.

MRS. KECKLEY

You planning on spending a whole lot of time

In mourning, Ma’am?

MARY

I expect the rest of my life

MRS. KECKLEY

Like Victoria.

You supposed to mourn a child

Only nine months

MARY

Mrs. Keckley, I mourn two children

Have you forgotten Eddie?

MRS. KECKLEY

Eddie died twelve years ago.

You not supposed to be mourning him now

And since I never made his acquaintance

I have nothing to forget

Now, how about the weepers, Ma’am?

Muslin?

MARY

No! Lawn.

Nine inches long and five inches deep

And two buttons and loops.

Twenty of those.

MRS. KECKLEY

And the collars, Ma’am?

MARY

Straight all round.

MRS. KECKLEY

The petticoats?

MARY

Silk quilted.

MRS. KECKLEY

The stockings?

MARY

Balbriggan.

MRS. KECKLEY

You do love clothes, don’t you, Ma’am.

MARY

I always have.

And twenty cambric handkerchiefs

Trimmed in black.

MRS. KECKLEY

And the bonnet, Ma’am?

MARY

Crepe, of course.

With a weeping veil.

I shall miss color, though.

Do you think …?

MRS. KECKLEY

No.

MARY

And send someone round to get

A necklace and bracelet of Whitby jet.

MRS. KECKLEY

Yes, Ma’am.

I lost a son in the war, you know

Had to make my own dresses six months ago

MARY

(Realizing)

You’re in half mourning, aren’t you.

You never told me!

MRS. KECKLEY

I don’t talk about it much.

Except to him.

MARY

To whom?

MRS. KECKLEY

My boy.

MARY

He comes to you?

MRS. KECKLEY

I guess you could say

It’s more like that I come to him

MARY

I don’t understand.

Explain yourself.

MRS. KECKLEY

I have some friends who are spiritualists

We get together and call on him

MARY

And does he come?

MRS. KECKLEY

Mostly he does.

MARY

Do you see him?

MRS. KECKLEY

Once I did.

Mostly we just talk.

MARY

If I were to meet with your friends

Do you think Willie would come?

MRS. KECKLEY

I don’t see why not, Ma’am.

We can certainly try

MARY

Please, would you arrange it?

MRS. KECKLEY

Consider it done.

(The room reverts to the dark hotel room as it was at the beginning. MRS. KECKLEY fades and disappears. There are three loud raps or knocks. Then underscore begins. MARY goes to the door and opens it. Four strangers enter. They don’t speak. They go straight to the table and signal MARY to come along. MARY reluctantly comes to the table and takes the seat they indicate for her. They join hands. Underscoring stops. There is complete silence. Then the offkey blat of a trumpet. The rattle of a snare drum. Tiny bells ring. Flowers fall onto the table. )

MARY

(Jumps, sings wonderingly)

Somebody touched my shoulder.

(The group, in slow motion, put their fingers to their lips to silence her, then rejoin hands. Underscoring resumes. Lights of various forms and colors, and of different degrees of intensity, appear and spread a phosphorescent glow. Very faintly we hear:)

WILLIE

You will never be happy, mama.

MARY

Willie!

(No response)

Willie! Say more!

MOTHER

(Again very faintly)

You were so young …

MARY

Mama?

(No response)

Mama!

(Again no response. There are three more loud raps. Then, in a hushed voice)

Husband? Is that you?

(LINCOLN speaks, but we don’t understand it)

He has told me when Robert will die

(LINCOLN slowly materializes. MARY rises, and they walk away from the table.)

LINCOLN

Not tonight, mother. I’m so tired.

MARY

Don’t say no!

The people want to see you

And I want to go!

LINCOLN

I had a dream, Mother

I was awakened by weeping

I thought perhaps it might be you

But you were peacefully sleeping

And I couldn’t imagine who it was

I followed the sound to the East Room

There was a coffin on a catafalque

I said: Who is dead in the White House?

No one answered me

MARY

(She takes his arm; gaily)

What shall we do when it’s over, my love

When the children are off on their own

When we have laid these burdens down

And the world leaves us alone

Where shall we live when it’s finished, my love

When these awful times are through

And nobody bothers to bother us

And there’s nothing important to do

It’s strange, now that I think of it

And terribly unfair that

You and I have ruled a nation, and yet

We haven’t been anywhere

Where shall we go, my darling

When we are finished with this war

And we only have each other

And nothing can hurt us anymore

I’d love to see Paris, and London

I want to see Venice, and Rome

And the Parthenon, and the Taj Mahal

But I suspect that after all

You’d rather just go home

LINCOLN

I saw a ship, Mother

It moved toward a dark shore.

MARY

I wonder sometimes if I pushed you too hard

And you just gave in

I wonder sometimes if you wanted to be

What we have been

But we don’t have to go anywhere

My lover, my husband, my all

We can quietly rock on our own front porch

And wait for people to call

I don’t need to see the world

That waits out there, beyond, parce que

Pour le monde tu es vraiment quelqu'un... Mais pour quelqu'un tu es le monde

(Again three loud raps. There is a shot.)

MARY

My God! My husband is shot!

(As LINCOLN falls, she catches him around the neck. He throws up his right arm, and then falls and disappears. MARY is covered in blood. She screams. She stands there, not knowing what to do, looking around, heading this way and that.)

MARY

Where is my husband?

Where is my husband?

(Lights come up on the bed. LINCOLN lies catty-corner across it. The bed is surrounded by formally dressed statesmen. MARY approaches it cautiously. We hear LINCOLN breathing harshly.)

MARY

His eye! It bulges!

His face is so ugly … so purple

(She sinks beside the bed, and covers his face with kisses. The rest of this monologue is interspersed with her shrieks, moans, howls)

Father, do speak to me!

Oh my God, and have I given my husband to die?

Why didn’t he kill me?

Why was I not the one?

Take me with you!

I can’t live without you.

You are my only reason to live.

I know you loved me

I know you did. You did!

You never loved anyone but me

(Touching his face tenderly)

Forgive, my love

Forgive

To the world you are someone

To someone you are the world

(LINCOLN gives out a death rattle, twitches, dies. One of the statesmen closes LINCOLN’s eyes with his fingers.)

STATESMAN

Now he belongs to the ages.

MARY

(Suddenly calm, rising)

As do I.

(Again, three loud raps. The bed and the statesmen disappear. She is alone on the stage. More raps resolve to knocking on the door to the hall. She goes to it slowly and opens it. ROBERT is there, with two constables behind him.)

MARY

Robert?

ROBERT

Hello, Mother.

(ROBERT enters; the constables remain outside the door)

MARY

What a nice surprise.

I’m sorry I’m not presentable,

But proper gentlemen deliver

Their cards before they call

(ROBERT says nothing)

Well, then, what can I do for you?

ROBERT

You must come with me, Mother.

MARY

To where?

ROBERT

To the courthouse, where a

Jury waits to judge your sanity

MARY

To what?

ROBERT

Your friends with great unanimity

Have come to the conclusion

That the troubles you have passed through

Have been too much for you

And have produced a … sort of …

Mental disease.

MARY

You mean to say I am crazy.

ROBERT

We believe you are incapable

Of handling your affairs.

MARY

Who is this “we”, Robert?

ROBERT

Myself .. and your friends.

MARY

I’m afraid you are mistaken.

I have no friends

ROBERT

And six doctors have opined you are insane.

MARY

I’ve seen no doctors.

They know nothing about me.

ROBERT

That is their opinion

MARY

And here is mine

I am very much obliged to you

My stiff little son

But I am abundantly able

To take care of myself.

ROBERT

Mother, I’m afraid you have no choice.

We have a court order for your arrest

If you don’t come with me peaceably

These constables will seize you

Why not put on your bonnet

And come along with me?

MARY

(Suddenly crying)

Lord, is it not enough?

When will you finally let me be?

Father, won’t you come and drive

Your horrid child away?

(ROBERT signals to the constables to enter. They begin to, and MARY suddenly calms.)

Oh, Robert, to think my only surviving son

Would do this to me.

ROBERT

It is only for your own good!

MARY

At least allow me to change my dress.

ROBERT

I cannot let you out of my sight.

MARY

Why don’t you go home

And take care of your lunatic wife?

I have heard some rather bizarre

Stories about her

ROBERT

And, Mother, I must have your bonds.

MARY

You want my money.

That’s all it is.

And you’ve found a way to get it.

You little thief!

ROBERT

You spend like a sailor, Mother!

And most on credit, too –

Though God knows why anyone

Extends it to you

MARY

(MARY rips open her hem and hands her bonds to ROBERT)

Here!

And I would have poured my life’s blood

Out for you!

ROBERT

And I for you, Mother

MARY

I think not

Your blood will not pour

Since you have no heart

ROBERT

God!

MARY

When you get to heaven

If you do

Your father will refuse

To talk to you

ROBERT

Come along then, Mother. (He reaches out to take her.)

MARY

I ride with you from compulsion,

But I beg you not to touch me.

WILLIE

(Voice over)

You will never be happy, mama.

MARY

But someday I shall be at peace.

(MARY and ROBERT walk out the door, and it closes. There are again three loud raps – this time, of a gavel.)

.END OF ACT ONE