Toronto, Mississippi
Page 5
JHANA:
Put them in a bowl Bill.
MADDIE:
Your Dad asked you to do it Jhana.
BILL:
I’ll help.
BILL and JHANA exit.
KING:
This blues act in Detroit, she’s gonna run another week. I’ve been put on hold.
MADDIE:
And?
KING:
I thought it might be nice for Jhana, not to mention the best break you’ve had this decade.
MADDIE:
What?
If I stayed on here. just for one week.
MADDIE:
Then you’d leave.
KING:
Run out on the wife and kid all over again. Look, Madelaine, if you don’t want me here, just say the word.
MADDIE:
When you played Oshawa and had dinner here twice in a row, she thought that meant we were, you know, together again. She’ll get too attached to you, Jhana will. Just like before. It’s dangerous.
KING:
Last night was dangerous. And very sweet.
MADDIE:
She’s very needy right now.
KING:
How’s her mother?
MADDIE:
Solid as a rock. Always.
KING:
I’ll get my stuff.
MADDIE:
(pause) Don’t. Don’t leave.
KING:
Are you sure? Don’t you want to check it out with Robert Young in there?
MADDIE:
Bill!
BILL:
(off ) What?
MADDIE:
King’s gonna’ stay with us a few days. Okay?
BILL:
It’s your house.
KING:
“A house boiled in water and blessed by no one.”
BILL enters.
BILL:
Pardon me?
KING:
“A house boiled in water and blessed by no one.”
BILL:
You read my book.
KING:
First thing this morning. Marched up and down The Path of Despair – cover to cover.
BILL:
Why do you remember that line? Why that one in particular?
KING:
You repeated it two hundred times.
MADDIE:
You want to go tell your daughter the good news?
BILL:
It’s like a chorus or refrain. The repeating wasn’t an arbitrary decision.
KING:
I liked your stuff, Bill. I’m not saying I understand it, but it sure has its moments.
BILL:
Don’t worry about not understanding. I feel quite strongly about that –
KING:
Man, you would’ve loved the King –
BILL:
Poetry is functioning at its best when nobody has a clue what’s going on.
Scene Two
A few days later. BILL is practising out loud for his poetry reading and lecture.
BILL:
Fellow poets and friends. “Black Morning” has been described by critics, or critic as the case may be, as a breakthrough sequence. But breaking through into what, you may well ask. (pause) Fuck it. (in a Memphis accent) I chased every woman I ever met. Know why? “Black Morning” plunges into a territory (beat) better left unexplored. Right. (Memphis accent) “Every woman adores a fascist, the boot in the face, the brute brute heart of a brute like you … ” I never stopped cruising. “Black Morning” plunges into and exposes the dark underbelly of that demon called –
JHANA:
(off ) Bill!
JHANA enters, from work, very wired.
BILL:
Hi angel.
JHANA:
I’m with the table in the workshop, right? Fat Steffie too. She’s mad. She’s mad like this. (shakes hand violently) Screws go flying! They just fly!
BILL:
Steffie has a hard time controlling her muscles –
JHANA:
She can’t do it –
BILL:
Maybe they’ve changed her medication
JHANA:
She’s not on the job!
BILL:
Some days she’s a whirlwind. Right?
JHANA:
A whirlwind Bill! You can’t sing at work. I said DON’T.
BILL:
Remember how you had a hard time counting how many screws to put in one bag? For Steffie –
JHANA:
Steffie can’t –
BILL:
Picking something up-
JHANA:
Steffie …
BILL:
Picking something up is way harder than counting. And putting it in a little bag? It’s murder.
JHANA:
She can’t help it, Bill.
BILL:
That’s right.
JHANA:
She’s mad! Hitting at Peter. Mean too. Peter can’t get out of his chair. You’re scared. Right? I push Peter for lunch. Don’t walk, Bill. Peter can’t. Listen to him. (JHANA groans) He talks hard. Like hurting. It doesn’t. I’m not Peter, Bill. You’re sad? At Peter?
BILL:
A little bit.
JHANA:
Betty died.
BILL:
I remember.
JHANA:
She’s not at the workshop. People die, Bill. Dogs, television. Steffie’s funny too. I’m not scared. (pause) Where’s my Daddy say Dad.
BILL:
I don’t know.
JHANA:
DAD!
BILL:
He’s not home, Jhana. Why don’t you slow down, kick your shoes off in front of the TV. Relax.
JHANA:
RELAX! They’re new. New and just coming in – all the little tiny screws. I’m behind Bill. That lady’s yelling on me, PAY ATTENTION!
BILL:
I could follow you a lot better if you’d slow down –
JHANA:
(stomping her feet in time) PAY ATTENTION! PAY ATTENTION! PAY ATTENTION! PAY ATTENTION … (long pause as JHANA notices BILL isn’t going to pay attention, then softly) Hi, Billy. Be Andrew yelling too. Bill please? Be Andrew.
BILL:
Not now, Jhani. They’ve asked me to do a reading, then a little talk on my process and that. Want to hear some?
JHANA:
No. I will keep talking. See? I can sing at lunch. Not at the worktable. That worktable’s for working. Everyone watches me. They love this.
BILL:
What do you sing?
JHANA:
(imitating Elvis) Good evening ladies and … ladies. It’s pleasure. Elvis Presley is here! (singing)
Love her tender, love her tender Never let her …
Lover her tender, lover her tender Lover her, love her tender …
Are you watching me?
BILL:
The world is watching you.
JHANA:
Good. Be Andrew. For dinner, Bill. Please?
BILL:
For ten minutes. When both hands are at six then you’re going to be the audience and I’m going to be the brilliant young poet behind the podium. Got that?
JHANA:
Yes! Get out! Out the door, Bill.
BILL exits, then JHANA greets him at the door, role playing a dinner date.
JHANA:
Hello Andrew.
BILL:
Good evening Miss Kelly –
JHANA:
She’s Jhana!
BILL:
You look lovely.
JHANA:
Please eat.
BILL:
Don’t you want to take my coat first, offer me a place to sit down?
JHANA:
Please sit and take your coat.
BILL:
How was your day?
JHANA:
Funny.
BILL:
Why?
JHANA:
<
br /> Steffie hit Peter in the wheelchair! Screws went flying!
BILL:
That doesn’t sound funny.
JHANA:
It’s funny. Eat.
BILL:
What’s for dinner?
JHANA:
Cheerios.
BILL:
Since when do you eat Cheerios for supper.
JHANA:
Since I’m funny.
BILL:
Aren’t you though. Are you going to make a move? Casually slip an arm around (BILL puts his arm around JHANA) Andrew’s mammoth but trembling shoulders?
JHANA:
(JHANA is beginning to act very sexually, but toward herself, not toward BILL) I’m funny.
BILL:
Are you going to get in there and give Andrew the business.
JHANA:
The business.
BILL:
You can, Jhana. If you want to, you’re allowed. You do understand that, don’t you?
JHANA:
Kissing him on the mouth?
BILL:
Absolutely. And here too. (touching JHANA’s neck) I’m not saying you should rush in there and jump on him. Take it slow and easy. But you can reach out.
JHANA:
Reach!
BILL:
If you hold back everything it’ll turn sour inside – or worse yet it’ll turn into poetry. Then you’re really sunk.
JHANA:
Kiss his mouth, Bill.
BILL:
Not me. That’s your job.
JHANA:
My job. And here. (touching BILL’s neck) It’s funny. Right? Steffie won’t kiss Andrew. Only me.
MADDIE enters.
MADDIE:
(to JHANA) Hi honey!
JHANA:
NO!
MADDIE:
Nice to see you too. How was your day?
JHANA:
She’s not allowed Bill!
BILL:
We were just –
MADDIE:
What am I not allowed to do?
JHANA:
Get out!
MADDIE:
My house kid.
JHANA:
We’re in private, me and Bill.
BILL:
Jhana likes this guy at work and –
JHANA:
NO! Make her get out!
MADDIE:
Look. You’re allowed to talk to Bill on your own but there are polite ways to explain that you’re in the middle of something.
JHANA:
Get out.
BILL:
In fact it’s more like pretend dates than just talk or –
JHANA:
NO!
MADDIE:
Have I interrupted you?
JHANA:
NO! (pause) Yes.
MADDIE:
You were talking about someone and my coming in made you embarrassed?
JHANA:
We’re private, me and Bill.
MADDIE:
That isn’t what I object to. When I come in, you and Bill can move upstairs after you say hi. No one likes being yelled at the second they come in the door.
JHANA:
(pause) Sorry, Mum.
MADDIE:
It’s okay. How was your day?
JHANA:
Hi, Mum.
MADDIE:
Hi, Jhani.
JHANA:
Hi, Bill.
BILL:
Hi.
JHANA:
How are you, Mum?
MADDIE:
Fine.
JHANA:
Bill is fine.
BILL:
Top notch.
MADDIE:
Your reading! Was that today? Jesus, Bill I meant to –
BILL:
It’s tomorrow. No big deal.
MADDIE:
You’re not nervous?
BILL:
I’ve done dozens of these things. Or at least a certain number.
MADDIE:
You need an audience?
BILL:
God yes. This is a poetry reading – no one will come. And it’s in a library, in Pickering.
MADDIE:
I meant do you want an audience right now. To practice.
BILL:
That’s stupid.
MADDIE:
I don’t mind. Me and Jhana will be the public at large.
JHANA:
I’m cooking salad.
MADDIE:
Right you are! Jhana makes salad tonight! Jhana makes dessert! How many?
JHANA:
Five cup!
MADDIE:
One cup of … come on Jhani … oranges …
JHANA:
Oranges!
MADDIE:
And?
JHANA:
Marshmallows. Tiny, tiny.
MADDIE:
One cup …
JHANA:
Coconuts … pineapple …
MADDIE:
And last but not least!
JHANA:
Yes!
MADDIE:
What’s the white stuff that holds it all together?
JHANA:
Milk!
MADDIE:
Sour cream!
JHANA:
Sour cream!
BILL:
Hallelujah!
MADDIE:
Five cup salad! No recipe needed. No fuss, no muss –
JHANA:
Five cup salad!
MADDIE:
You know where everything is?
JHANA:
The fridge. And cans.
MADDIE:
And the coconut is in the cupboard above the sink in a red bag.
JHANA:
Red.
MADDIE:
The measuring cup is in the dishwasher. You can do all of it by yourself.
JHANA:
Don’t help her, Bill.
BILL:
Best of luck, Jhana. And remember kid. No matter what happens in there, I loved you.
JHANA:
I love you, Bill. And coconut, in a red bag, in the sink.
MADDIE:
Above the sink.
JHANA:
I love you, Mum.
MADDIE:
Me too. Get to work.
JHANA:
You’re loving Bill?
MADDIE:
Yup.
JHANA:
She’s going to work. I am working for salad and dessert.
MADDIE:
And Bill and I are going to have a gigantic glass of scotch and talk poetry.
JHANA:
Poetry!
JHANA exits.
MADDIE:
So Jhana wants to sleep with someone at work?
BILL:
What happened to her right to privacy?
MADDIE:
I changed my mind.
BILL:
Just a crush. Lots of talk about kissing.
MADDIE:
“Black Morning.”
BILL:
Right. I’m going to use that quote about my being a voice for women and the responsibility that entails.
MADDIE:
Your own voice, Bill. That’s all we need.
BILL:
It is my voice. Maybe I don’t know how to make it sing or shimmy but it is mine.
MADDIE:
However sleazy it may seem to you, I need him like breath right now.
BILL:
It’s your life.
MADDIE:
And you’re a big part of it. You’re my best friend. It’s true. Quit taking it like a slap in the face. You’re just … I’m … I know he’s fucked up. But at least he’s out there. Trying to do something he feels about. He’s always been, you know, very alive.
BILL:
I find it remarkable that someone who makes his living pretending to be a dead person is living life to the fullest. Wher
e is he anyway?
MADDIE:
He’s at the Elvis Museum in Niagara Falls. He might do some stuff for them for the anniversary in August.
BILL:
What anniversary?
MADDIE:
Elvis’s death. Jesus, Bill. I can’t believe you wouldn’t know that.
BILL:
It wasn’t like Kennedy. I can’t tell you what I was doing at that exact moment.
MADDIE:
We were in Whitehorse. This guy called Wade, he came in with the news after the first set. The King is dead.
BILL:
When Elvis Presley died I was at Carleton. We thought it was funny.
MADDIE:
King hauled Jhana up on stage. Those days I put all my energy into convincing everyone she was normal. A little slow. Jesus. She had a ten-word vocabulary at five. Her first word was “Mum” and her second word was “pig.” Because of this story King had made up about this pig that was a terrific swimmer. But I used to worry about it anyway, mother then pig.
BILL:
I’ll bet you worried.
MADDIE:
While she’s up on stage I’m praying she won’t open her mouth, won’t stim out because of the lights, have a rocking fit because of the drums.
BILL:
What’d she do?
MADDIE:
Nothing. She loved it. Everyone loved her and were too pissed to notice she wasn’t, you know, normal. (pause) Bill, promise me this guy at work or some old lech on the bus isn’t going to hurt her. Isn’t going to take advantage of all that trust.
BILL:
She’s okay.
MADDIE:
Mother then pig.
BILL:
I think you are very wonderful with her.
MADDIE:
You too, Willy.
BILL:
And I have been a bit of an asshole about him staying here. A little bit.
JHANA enters, much slowed down, nearly dreamy.
JHANA:
It’s perfect Mum. Cooking in the bowl. It’s so pretty. Five cup salad. In the fridge.
MADDIE:
You all done?
JHANA:
Done.
MADDIE:
No problems?
JHANA:
Maybe.
MADDIE:
Let’s not worry about it now. Come give your old Mum a hug.
JHANA:
Old Mum. Old, old Mum.
MADDIE:
Thanks a lot kid.
JHANA:
Mine.
Scene Three
The spot is up on KING at the microphone, costumed like Elvis, using the Memphis accent.
KING:
I don’t do any requests. Used to be I’d play whatever you asked for but I am now sick to death of everyone wanting what is bad for them, myself included. This also ties into the way I feel about women. I chased every dream going, man. They’ve run me ragged. All of you have.
Listen to me. It’s Louisiana Hayride, 1954. Something good is happening (touching chest) inside here. When I sing, play guitar, you’re with me. Swaying in time, singing along, you know every single word. But what’s this now? Something is coming undone inside you. This is not what I mean to do. This also ties into the way I feel about women. All of them wanting to come undone. This is a very sad business and should not be part of the entertainment industry. I am just an entertainer and hold no opinions, political or otherwise. I am also, and get this clear, nobody’s path of despair. All right?