Resurrection Blues Page 8

  FELIX: We must talk, Jeanine . . .

  HENRI: She’s really not up to it, Felix.

  FELIX: There’s a couple of things I’d like this man to understand. It’s important.

  HENRI: But she has no contact with him.

  FELIX: Well, if you happen to see him—

  HENRI, glancing from one to the other:—Something’s happened, hasn’t it . . . with you.

  EMILY: Oh yes! We hardly slept all night.

  HENRI: How nice!

  EMILY: Yes . . . it was.

  HENRI: Well! May one congratulate the old dog?

  FELIX: Definitely!—he’s back hunting over hill and dale. This is the strangest twenty-four hours I’ve ever been through.—Drapes an arm around Emily. . . . She wanted to drive up and look around in the villages . . .

  EMILY: It’s like walking on the sky up there—the purity of the sunbeams . . . that strangely warm, icy air . . .

  FELIX: It’s been years since I was up there in our last campaigns. I was absolutely amazed—his picture really is everywhere in the villages. They paint halos around his head. I had no idea of the devotion of the people—it’s a real phenomenon, he’s like a saint. To Henri: You remember, Henri—that whole back country was always so . . . what’s the word . . . ?

  HENRI: Depressing.

  EMILY: They’ve taken out the ancient instruments that nobody has played for years, and they dance the old dances again. . . . It was so absolutely delightful, we didn’t want to leave.

  JEANINE: Then you’ve decided what?—not to kill him?

  FELIX: I must have a meeting with him. I was hoping you could arrange it.

  HENRI, instantly: She really has no idea where he . . .

  FELIX, charmingly to Jeanine: One thing I’m never wrong about is the face of a satisfied woman.—When he comes to you again I would like him to understand the following: I have talked to a number of his people now and they say he has always told them to live in peace. Some of my own people say otherwise but I’m willing to leave it at that. What I want him to consider—I mean eventually, of course—is a place in the government.

  JEANINE: In your government? Him?

  FELIX: I’m serious. The military is not as stupid as maybe we’ve sometimes looked, Jeanine. We must get ready for some kind of democracy, now that the revolution is finished. He could help us in that direction.

  JEANINE: I’d doubt that.

  EMILY: He’s released Stanley.

  JEANINE: Really.

  FELIX: Stanley’s agreed to deliver my message to your friend, but I don’t know how much weight he carries with him. I would feel better if you spoke to him yourself.

  JEANINE: But I know his answer. He will tell you to resign.

  FELIX: Resign.

  JEANINE:—Let’s be honest, Felix; this man is full of love—I think you realize that now, don’t you; all he is is love. But we aren’t. I’m not and neither are you. You’ve killed too many of us to forget so quickly.

  FELIX: I have changed, Jeanine. This woman has opened my eyes.

  JEANINE, to Emily: Imagine!—in one night!

  FELIX: No, not one night; I’ve been thinking about it for some time now . . . that we’ve been fighting each other almost since I was born. It has wasted us all. I want a normal country. Where people can walk safely in the streets at night; sleep in peace, build a house . . . I can’t tell you how exactly it happened, but this woman has made me wonder—maybe if your friend could help us begin to come together I am ready to give it a try. He sees she is not convinced.

  What can I do to prove I have changed, Jeanine?

  EMILY, to Jeanine: I have an idea . . . suppose he announced on television that your friend was no longer a wanted man?

  FELIX: Excuse me, dear—I can’t do that unless he agrees in advance to disarm his people . . .

  JEANINE: He personally has not armed anybody . . .

  FELIX, composure rattling: Now look, dear . . .

  JEANINE: Don’t call me dear!—Why can’t you make that announcement?

  FELIX: They have tons of hidden arms, goddamit!

  EMILY, to Felix: Don’t, darling, please . . .

  FELIX, to Emily, indignantly: No! I can’t pretend I am dealing with Jesus Christ here! I’m trying my best but the man is not just a hippie, he’s also a guerilla . . . !

  EMILY, patting his head: And he has also managed to walk through your prison wall.

  FELIX: So what?—am I supposed to have an explanation for everything?

  HENRI: Felix, listen; if you announce that he is no longer a wanted man you take the moral high ground, and if . . .

  FELIX: Do we have laws or not? There’s a homicide sentence on the man! In return for what am I lifting his sentence? His anger returning. I am not turning this government into a farce! I’m asking you, will he promise to keep the peace?—

  JEANINE: But shouldn’t you promise first? You have the tanks.

  FELIX: Yes, I have the tanks and he doesn’t, so he’s the one who has to make the promises!

  JEANINE: Well now!—So much for all this high spiritual change you’ve gone through . . .

  HENRI: I have an idea; for just this moment, right now, try to think of this problem as though you did not have a gun.

  FELIX: Right. Okay, I’m ready! You want me to talk?—here I am. To Jeanine: So where is he? Slaps his hips. No guns! I’m all ears! Where’s god?

  Stanley enters.

  JEANINE: Stanley!

  Stanley comes and embraces her.

  STANLEY: How you doin’, Jeanie, you’re lookin’ good.

  JEANINE: Is . . . everything all right?

  FELIX: Have you spoken with him?

  STANLEY: . . . Here’s the thing.

  Pause.

  What it all comes down to is—he’s having big trouble making up his mind.

  HENRI: About . . . ?

  STANLEY: Getting crucified.

  FELIX: What’s his problem?

  STANLEY: Well . . . if he doesn’t, will people feel he’s let them down?

  JEANINE: I’m surprised at you, Stanley; his deciding to be crucified is not going to depend on whether he’s disappointing people’s expectations!

  STANLEY: He is serious about changing the world, Jeanie, everything he does he’s got to think of the effect on people. What’s wrong with that?

  JEANINE: What’s wrong is that it changes him into one more shitty politician! Whatever he does he’ll do because it’s right, not to get people’s approval!

  FELIX: So where does that leave matters? Violently. . . . And try not to use so many words, will you?

  STANLEY: My candid, rock bottom opinion?

  FELIX: What.

  STANLEY: Ignore him.

  HENRI: Brilliant.

  FELIX: I can’t ignore him, he’s broken the law, he’s . . .

  STANLEY: General, I don’t have to tell you, even now up in the villages the crime rate’s been dropping since he showed up, people are getting ready for heaven, right? A lot of them like starting to boil the water, right? And much less garbage in the street and whitewashing their houses and brushing their teeth—and the number screwing their daughters is like way down, you know.—In other words, this is a very good thing he got going for you, so how about just turning your attention . . . elsewhere?

  HENRI: Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

  FELIX: And will he “turn his attention elsewhere”? His people will go right on agitating against me, won’t they. As though I had nothing to do but go around murdering people; as though I’d done nothing to improve the country, as though the British are not building two hotels, and the Dutch and Japanese weren’t starting to talk to us. . . . What the hell more does he want of me!

  STANLEY: Well for one thing . . . I don’t know like maybe let’s say, if you like stopped—you know, like knocking off union organizers . . .

  FELIX: I have no outstanding orders against organizers!

  JEANINE: Of course not, they’re all dead.

&nb
sp; FELIX: I’m sorry, decent people don’t join unions!

  EMILY: I’m in a union.

  FELIX: You!

  EMILY, smoothing his cheek: Don’t take it to heart, dear, it’s only the Directors Guild of America.

  FELIX: I can’t believe this, Emily . . . you are in a union?

  EMILY: Felix dear, you really do have to start thinking differently . . .

  FELIX, furious: How can I think differently if nobody else is thinking differently?—So where are we, Stanley—the war goes on? Yes or no?

  STANLEY: . . . Could I please ask a favor, General? Would you leave us alone for a couple minutes?

  FELIX: No! We’ve got to settle this!

  STANLEY: I can’t talk to her otherwise, okay?

  EMILY: There’s nothing to lose, dear. Holding out her hand to him. Come. Let’s both have a glass of water.

  FELIX, hesitates: . . . But I hope we understand each other.

  STANLEY: We do, sir, just give me five.

  EMILY: Come, Felix dear.

  FELIX, sotto, as she leads him off: I don’t know why everybody’s being so fucking stupid!

  Felix and Emily leave.

  Henri starts to move.

  STANLEY: You can stay if you want—it’s just I didn’t want to say it in front of him but in my personal opinion this thing is getting pretty nasty out there—

  JEANINE: Nasty how?

  STANLEY: A lot of the folks—they don’t say it out loud, but they’re hoping their village will be picked.

  JEANINE: Picked?

  STANLEY: For the crucifixion.

  HENRI, grips his head: Oh my god!—why!

  STANLEY: Well—like you know the honor of it and . . . well, the ah . . . property values.

  JEANINE: Property values!

  STANLEY: Well, face it, once it’s televised they’ll be jamming in from the whole entire world to see where it happened. Tour buses bumper to bumper across the Andes to get to see his bloody drawers? Buy a souvenir fingernail, T-shirts, or one of his balls? It’s a whole tax base thing, Jeanie, y’know? Like maybe a new school, roads, swimming pool, maybe even a casino and theme park—all that shit. I don’t have to tell you, baby, these people have nothing.

  HENRI: We are living in hell.

  STANLEY: Well yes and no; I think he figures it could also like give people some kind of hope for themselves.

  JEANINE, incredulously: Hope? From seeing a man crucified?!

  STANLEY: From seeing somebody who means it when he says he loves them, honey. So that’s why—at least when I left him—he’s like thinking death.

  JEANINE, bursts into tears: Oh god . . .

  STANLEY:—So what I’m hoping . . . can I tell you?—Cause you’re the only one he’d possibly listen to . . . I guess because you tried to die yourself.

  Jeanine lifts her eyes to him.

  STANLEY: . . . I really wish you’d tell him he’s got to live . . . and just maybe forget about . . . you know, being god. I mean even if he is.

  Jeanine moans in pain.

  We’ve got to face it, Jeanie, in a couple weeks people forget, you know? Nothing much lasts anymore, and if they nail him up it’s eventually blow away like everything else. I mean he’s just got to . . .

  JEANINE: . . . Give up his glory.

  STANLEY: Maybe not quite—he’s already waked up a lot of people that things don’t have to be this way. He could settle for that.—You’re the only one who could save him, Jeanie. Please, for all of us. Make him live.

  HENRI: And of course, to return to basics, we still don’t know for sure . . . who and what he really is, do we.

  Pause.

  JEANINE: Do we know, Stanley? Tell me the truth.

  STANLEY: Oh, Jeanie, I wish I knew! Some days it’s like he walked straight out of the ocean or a cloud or a bush full of roses. Other days . . . Shrugs. . . . he smells a lot like anybody else.

  JEANINE: Then what do you want me to say to him, exactly?

  STANLEY: . . . I think he has to . . . well . . . agree to a deal that if Felix will stop persecuting people he’ll . . . you know . . . disappear.

  JEANINE: Forever?

  STANLEY: Well . . . I guess so . . . yeah.

  JEANINE: I’m to ask him not to be god.

  STANLEY: No—no, he could be god like . . . in a more general inspirational way. I mean the actual improvements would just have to be up to us, that’s all.

  HENRI: Wonderful! He’s still god but he goes away and there’s no bloodbath! Peace!

  JEANINE: And each for himself.

  HENRI: Peace! Or the country is done, finished, a heap of bones!

  Long pause.

  JEANINE, to Stanley: All right, I want him alive. We haven’t the greatness to deserve his death.—I just hope I never hear that he’s mowing the lawn.

  STANLEY: Nobody’s pure, baby—if that’s what’s bothering you . . .

  JEANINE: So if he comes again. . . . Tell me what to say.

  STANLEY: . . . Just say . . . like—“Charley darling . . .”

  JEANINE: Charley?

  STANLEY: He changed it last night. Said it was really Charley from now on, not Jack. Although he’s changed it on me a dozen times. Vladimir once, Francisco . . . Herby for a week or two . . . Just say, like . . .

  The light comes on, but dimly. He looks about. A music

  very distant, subliminal.

  STANLEY: Charley? Is that you?

  The light brightens sharply. All straighten, look

  slightly upward.

  Felix enters with Emily.

  FELIX, feeling the air: Something is happening . . . !

  STANLEY: Ssh—please!

  FELIX: Who are you telling to sshh!

  EMILY, end of her patience: For god’s sake, will you control yourself! To Stanley, pointing up to the light: Is that . . . ?

  STANLEY: I think so.

  JEANINE, facing upward: How I love you, darling. Now please, please listen to me!

  FELIX, looking about combatively: Well where is he, goddamit!

  EMILY, pointing up: The light, dear, the light!

  FELIX, realizing now, looking up with dawning fear: Holy shi . . .

  STANLEY, upward: I’ve got an idea, baby, if you’d like to consider it.

  JEANINE: Whatever you decide you are my life and my hope, darling.

  STANLEY: You’ve like turned the country inside out, you know? There’s lots of changes since you showed up . . . compared, you know? So maybe, just as—you know, a suggestion—we’re thinking maybe the best thing right now, would be for you to . . . just let it hang the way it is. Stand pat. Don’t make your move, you know? Bleiben sie ruhig, baby; vaya con calme; ne t’en fais pas; spokoine-e gospodin; nin bu yao jaoji—dig?