Toronto, Mississippi
Page 4
KING:
What? Every dream I’ve dreamed has come true a hundred times. That’s the bad ones too, boy. Nightmares the size of China. Going to Jesus. That’s what the Southerners call self-destruction and they’re fucking ecstatic about it.
BILL:
I don’t know how –
KING:
They’re driving drunk, right out of the womb. They’re going to Jesus.
BILL:
Leaving a kid.
MADDIE:
That’s between me and King. It’s nothing to do with Jhana. Or with you.
KING:
I’m going upstairs.
MADDIE:
I’ll be up in a minute.
KING exits. BILL is trying to focus on MADDIE. He’s very drunk.
MADDIE:
I’ll see you in the morning. Okay?
BILL:
Where is it you’re going now? Tell me where it is you’re going.
MADDIE:
I’m going upstairs.
BILL:
Where?
MADDIE:
Upstairs.
BILL:
Tell me where it is you’re going.
MADDIE:
You’re drunk. Goodnight, Willy.
BILL:
What will he do? Why is it his mouth and hands …
MADDIE:
You can sleep down here. That might be easier.
MADDIE covers BILL with a blanket.
BILL:
You’re my family?
MADDIE:
I know.
BILL:
You’ll kiss your family on the mouth?
MADDIE kisses BILL quickly on the forehead.
BILL:
Say where it is you’re going. Say it after me.
Lights fade.
MADDIE:
‘Night.
MADDIE heads for stairs.
BILL:
(singing slightly, gospel style)
I’m going to Jesus
I just can’t wait
running straight to
the arms of Jesus
ACT TWO
Scene One
The next morning, lights up on KING who is drinking milk from the carton, preparing to leave; JHANA, in her nightgown, surprises him.
JHANA:
Dad!
KING:
Good morning, sweetheart.
JHANA:
(referring to carton) You’re not allowed. I said you’re not.
KING:
Yeah? Who are you?
JHANA:
Jhana!
KING:
Are you the fridge patrol? Are you hell bent on justice at any cost?
JHANA:
(imitating MADDIE) We all have to live here young lady.
KING:
(in the Memphis accent) Momma. She’d be sleeping pretty as sunrise – right at this particular moment.
JHANA:
Sing.
KING:
You don’t want to hear me sing this early. Trust me. Let me get up now. Okay?
JHANA:
Why?
KING:
C’mon –
JHANA:
You’re making her breakfast.
KING:
I don’t know, Jhana. I don’t know if there’s time.
JHANA:
I’m helping. Dad.
KING:
You gonna help me out under the bright lights? Sing for your keep?
JHANA:
Okay! And dancing. Everyone’s clapping for me. At working I sing, at drop-in.
KING:
Drop out, Jhana. It’s our only chance, you and me.
JHANA:
You and me. Making breakfast. Now.
KING:
In Windsor I met one of your pals.
JHANA:
Who?
KING:
A girl called Bonita.
JHANA:
My pal! (pause) I don’t know her Dad.
KING:
She had a job cleaning up.
JHANA:
Steffie cleans up.
KING:
Does she now. This Bonita …
JHANA:
My pal! Can she come here?
KING:
Actually you haven’t met her before Jhani.
JHANA:
Why?
KING:
What I meant is she’s like you.
JHANA:
I like her too.
KING:
So. At any rate, this Bonita, she’d be around forty and lived at the motel. Took care of everything real good. Even combed out the fringe on the carpet. Imagine that.
JHANA:
All right.
KING:
She’d just about kill herself that I wouldn’t do the ‘Hawaiian Wedding Song’. She came to the show every night. She requested that song every five minutes or so. Bonita. Not as pretty as you. Nearly as smart though.
JHANA:
I’m not smart.
KING:
You make out okay though? You don’t get teased or that anymore? Some rough patches there when you were little. Bonita. Maybe you’ll get a real job one day, like her.
JHANA:
I have a real job.
KING:
Yeah? How much you taking home?
JHANA:
Home.
KING:
You making any money?
JHANA:
I make a pay cheque Dad.
KING:
How much?
JHANA:
On Fridays. In her purse.
KING:
“Hawaiian Wedding Song.” That’s a load of shit to be singing night after night, isn’t it?
JHANA:
Okay.
KING:
I mean I swore I’d never put on one of those jumpsuits and do that trip. I’ve always just done him clean, Jhani. Sun Record days, good days. But people come out for the white suits and scarves. The “Hawaiian Wedding Song.” And these are lean times. So your old dad, Jhana, he gave in.
JHANA:
Gave in Dad?
KING:
That cape I brought you? It was custom made … for me. But not anymore. No more white suits.
JHANA:
No more white suits?
KING:
You got her.
JHANA:
No more white suits!
KING puts his coat on.
JHANA:
Can I come?
KING:
No.
JHANA:
Where are you going?
KING:
After Christmas, Jhana, maybe you and me can take off for a few days, have a little holiday. What do you think?
JHANA:
Are you going shopping?
KING:
Yeah … right.
JHANA:
I can shop. Okay?
KING:
Why don’t you stay here and get the ball rolling. I’m going to make you blueberry pancakes but I have to walk a long ways to find those berries. Maybe they’re down a ravine, covered in ice. Okay? Bye, bye Jhani. You’re my girl.
JHANA:
I’m setting the table? Eggs? I can’t do them.
KING:
Sure you can.
JHANA:
I make a mess.
KING:
Sky’s the limit for you. Don’t forget that.
KING exits. JHANA wakes BILL who is sleeping on the couch.
JHANA:
(quietly) Helping me please Bill?
BILL:
Fuck.
JHANA:
Fuck, Bill. You’re in there now? In sleeping? C’mon.
BILL:
Quiet, Jhana.
JHANA:
(tries to lie on top of BILL) Mum’s in this. See? All tired on Daddy. He’s gone. Shopping for me. We need help. You and me.
BILL:
Lay off, Jhana.
JHANA:
Lay off, Bill. We’re like this. We’re here!
BILL:
What time is it?
JHANA:
Cracking the eggs for Daddy. For Dad.
BILL:
(tries to sit up) Oh God! Do I look the way I always look? Is the right side of my head caved in?
JHANA:
I’ll be kissing you (kisses BILL) better.
BILL:
None of that.
JHANA:
Andrew’s funny, right?
BILL:
He’s a scream.
JHANA:
I’ll be kissing you now. (tries to kiss BILL again)
BILL:
(sitting up quickly) Careful. There’s one way to kiss certain men in the world and another way to kiss all the Bills. Most women know that instinctively.
JHANA:
Dad’s making pancakes and we’re helping. Setting the table. Cracking the eggs. Eggs. Can you do that? The eggs. They’re broken. Right?
BILL:
I can crack eggs. If you stop talking I’ll crack a hundred eggs.
JHANA:
It’s hard.
BILL:
Sure is.
JHANA:
Dad’s asking for the eggs.
BILL:
He’s not asking right now. We’ll deal with that when it happens.
JHANA:
No. He’s asking! Bill?
BILL:
WHAT!
JHANA:
I can’t do it. I can’t do the eggs.
BILL:
Let’s go through this. Your dear mother is sleeping happily. The King of Rock n’ Roll has gone shopping. Good old Bill, who has the worst hangover ever, is supposed to give a lesson on cracking the goddamned eggs.
JHANA:
Good old Bill!
BILL:
God in heaven.
MADDIE enters.
MADDIE:
(to JHANA) Hi honey. (to BILL) You look awful.
JHANA:
Good old Bill!
BILL:
Aren’t you two supposed to be at work?
MADDIE:
We have a meeting with Jhana’s social worker.
BILL:
I thought that was Thursday.
MADDIE:
That’s the assessment at work, not to be confused with next week’s meeting with her new one-to-one worker. But today is with Ben at eleven. Remember?
JHANA:
Remember?
MADDIE:
You say bye to your Dad?
JHANA:
He’s shopping. Pancakes, Mum.
MADDIE:
I don’t think so.
JHANA:
With blueberries. Eggs by Bill with me in helping.
MADDIE:
He didn’t say goodbye?
JHANA:
He’s making her breakfast.
MADDIE:
I don’t know, Jhana. I think he’s gone.
JHANA:
He’s shopping!
MADDIE:
I think his bus went about ten minutes ago.
JHANA:
Liar. He said.
BILL:
(to MADDIE) Why don’t you look horrible?
JHANA:
He’s shopping, Bill. For me.
BILL:
I know, Jhana. I know all about it.
MADDIE:
King always has a beer when he’s hung over. First thing in the morning even.
BILL:
And he takes the cap off with his teeth.
MADDIE:
Belt buckle. Jhana? I’m pretty sure he’s gone. We can wait another couple of minutes. But don’t get hopeful. He’s just lousy at goodbyes.
BILL:
Apparently.
MADDIE:
(to BILL) I don’t need that kind of stuff right now.
BILL:
Excuse me. Think I’ll go crack open a cold one with my eye socket.
BILL exits.
MADDIE:
Just before your Dad would head out on tour, I’d lie there all tangled up with him, needing the sound of his breath to fall asleep. Needing to feel everything beat inside him.
JHANA:
Gone with Princie Mum.
MADDIE:
But he was a regular Houdini. And I’d wake up to the sound of the van, revving up in the yard, this cold feeling in my gut, pissed off too that he wouldn’t let me say goodbye. And he’d argue that these big deal farewells just made me sadder. Maybe that’s true but it was also cheating.
JHANA:
It’s cheating Mum.
MADDIE:
So I’d go in your room, give Chatty Cathy the boot, and I’d crawl into your bed.
BILL enters.
MADDIE:
Hold on to my perfect little girl. (holding JHANA) You were so warm. To hell with that bed of mine that had suddenly become so big and icy. I’ve got Jhana.
JHANA:
Me.
MADDIE:
It just makes him upset to say goodbye.
JHANA:
I can’t without spilling. Dad’s mad at me?
MADDIE:
He loves you.
JHANA:
It’s making him sad? At me?
MADDIE:
Not you.
JHANA:
Dad’s happy.
MADDIE:
I don’t know, Jhana. He’s on the bus to Detroit.
JHANA:
He’s on the bus to Detroit, Bill.
MADDIE:
That’s the city where his next show is. Why don’t you go get dressed and then we can make pancakes together.
JHANA:
Okay, Bill?
BILL:
I’m not hungry.
JHANA exits.
BILL:
When my dad died we were all up at the cottage with him because we knew it was coming. After they came to take away, you know, his body, I lay down beside where he’d been and it was still warm there. This warmth was under the palm of my hand but seeping away. Then all the warmth was gone and I understood he was dead then.
Boom.
MADDIE:
Sorry, Willy.
BILL:
That isn’t the point. It was all right. There was something perfect about the whole thing, his living and dying. So I’m just wondering why you do it?
MADDIE:
What?
BILL:
Why you’re screwing a ghost?
MADDIE:
Shut up Bill.
BILL:
No, really. I’ve been thinking about it and I think it all stems from your fear of death. Why else continue to haul your ex up out of the cobwebs?
MADDIE:
This is bullshit.
BILL:
No, this death thing makes sense on another level as well. Because you’re also obsessed with a corpse: Elvis Presley. I consider the whole thing fascinating, Maddie. I really do. I mean I know that King has made him immortal now so that must be like lying down with Jesus or –
MADDIE:
Tell me some more about lying down with someone, Bill. When was the last time for you?
BILL:
The summer.
MADDIE:
What year?
BILL:
You met Carolyn. She’s been doing a sessional out in the Maritimes. We’re in touch.
MADDIE:
Perfect. Touching through the mail or over the telephone. Very risky stuff.
BILL:
It’s tougher for poets. I mean the King of Rock and Roll: tight jeans, possibly a drunkard, depressed. Women are ecstatic about that sort of thing.
MADDIE:
Come off it. Your crowd’s got its groupies too. This is ridiculous.
BILL:
Whoever fantasizes about poets? We’re all supposed to be half-starved with tuberculosis, grey skin – not a sexual image.
MADDIE:
If so
mething hurt you last night then we should talk about that directly.
BILL:
It hurt last night to see you as a groupie.
MADDIE:
Jesus. I really can’t believe this.
BILL:
It hurt to see him with Jhana.
MADDIE:
Okay. What else?
BILL:
Nothing else.
MADDIE:
C’mon, Bill. What happened to your need to confess everything that’s ever happened to you.
BILL:
I don’t do that.
MADDIE:
You adore baring your soul. “Maddie this and this happened when I was in kindergarten. Maddie I peed myself once at cubs.”
BILL:
Okay. It’s crossed my mind.
MADDIE:
What has?
BILL:
I don’t mean to imply that I think about it constantly.
MADDIE:
It.
BILL:
You and me. Something more than, you know, boarder and … boardee. What are you anyway?
MADDIE:
I’m your landlady. And you’re my best friend.
BILL:
Thank you. It’s natural. Living here and all the stuff with Jhana that you’d think about it sometimes, about really getting together.
MADDIE:
I don’t think about it, Bill. I don’t think of you that way.
BILL:
Great. As I say it’s barely crossed my mind. I mean it’s like when I think of making it with the woman next door or with Queen Elizabeth. So much of sex is challenge, it really is –
MADDIE:
And I’m grateful for the way you are with Jhani. No. I feel blessed in that department. I really do. And with our friendship –
BILL:
So you think of me as what? A talking cocker spaniel? That sort of thing?
MADDIE:
Please stop it, Bill.
BILL:
I should feel encouraged. If you could fall in love with King you could fall in love with a gas station. But it makes me bored. This lack of challenge. The whole thing’s remarkable. It really is.
KING:
(offstage, singing) Since my baby left me –
BILL:
Give me a break –
KING: (singing)
I found a new place to dwell,
It’s down at the end of lonely street
In Heartbreak Hotel
KING enters carrying a large bag of groceries. JHANA enters.
JHANA:
My Daddy say Dad!
KING:
Who’s hungry?
JHANA:
Me!
KING:
(sorting through the bag) Genuine one hundred percent artificial maple syrup. And just for you … (handing JHANA a box of berries)
JHANA:
Blueberries!
KING:
Through wind and rain, battles, blight, the frozen-food section of the 7-Eleven. For you my love – blueberries.
JHANA:
See Mum? Daddy’s here! Dad.
MADDIE:
He sure is. Your Dad’s full of surprises.
KING:
(to JHANA) How about going and opening this box. Then sticking those berries in a bowl.