S A L
T
by
Mordecai Goldberg
THE CAST
PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS:
ADAM SALT...a middleaged petrochemist
MRS SALT...his wife
AVA SALT...their daughter
PAK...an Oriental hotelier
CHEK...his idiot son
KOP...an undercover policeman
VAK...a young honeymooner
MRS VAK...his bride
SECONDARY CHARACTERS:
ECSTASY STARR
LAWYER SLIK
DOCTOR SIK
PROFESSOR TRIK
GENERAL TRIK
SERGEANT
CASINO MANAGER
YOUNG WOMAN
ARCHBISHOP
PROSECUTRIX
OLD WOMAN
OLD MAN
CIVILIANS/JURISTS
SOLDIERS
WRITER
THE SCENE
The action develops in a series of generalized sets representing: an English
spa, a casino, the Salt’s apartment, various governmental offices, a
prison cell and a court room.
THE TIME
A future whose distance depends on the outcome of certain contemporary
developments.
ACT ONE
Scene 1
Patio of Hotel Philadelphia. MR & MRS SALT sitting at small table, finishing breakfast. MRS SALT writes postcard. SALT reads newspaper. PAK comes and goes, setting more tables. CHEK ENTERS and puts sign on tripod. Sign is upsidedown. It reads: "HOTEL PHILADELPHIA—REASONABLE RATES—DECENT MEALS—CLEAN ROOMS." PAK rights sign and comes downstage to address audience.
PAK: You must excuse the boy if he makes a mistake now and then. He tries very hard but —he is not quite—well, you can see for yourselves, he is not quite—normal. That is to say—he is mentally retarded. [Playfully tousles CHEK’s hair.] He is my son. His name is Chek. My name is Pak. Since my wife died, it has been just the two of us running this hotel. Chek takes the garbage from the kitchen to the alley. He washes the dishes—[CHEK nods and grins as PAK praises him.] He sweeps the dining room and cleans the toilets. He gathers the bird droppings from the patio here. Without his help I really couldn’t cope with being an hotelier. When he was born there were people who urged us to get rid of him; to drown him in the lake or abandon him in the forest. There were times when even my late wife wished Pak was dead. [CHEK nods and grins.] I don’t blame her for that. For the first ten years of his life Chek was not much more than a vegetable. But how can you kill your own child? "Maybe," I would tell her, "a miracle would occur and one day Chek’s subnormality would disappear." I prayed very hard for such a miracle. Every night I prayed and every morning I eagerly looked for some sign of change in him. But nothing changed—[CHEK puts up sign stating: ‘INTERNATIONAL MONETARY CRISIS DEEPENS’] No, not yet, Chek. This sign is Number 13. Now you must put up sign Number 2. Number 2 follows Number 1. And after Number 2 comes Number 3— [CHEK counts on his fingers, grins. PAK puts up sign number 2 which states: ‘THE SETTING—A WORLD FAMOUS SPA IN THE SOUTH OF ENGLAND’] It’s all right, my son. Is the kitchen floor clean? [CHEK nods yes.] And the hallway? Have you swept the hallway and polished all the brass? [CHEK hangs his head guiltily.] Ah. Then that is what you must do. Get the polish and the rag.
EXIT CHEK.
PAK: In my room there is a book explaining my son’s condition. It is a question of enzymes and chromosomes. The book says there is no miracle that will make him normal. At first the book depressed me. And then, later, I felt ashamed of myself. Why? Because I realized I wanted Chek to be normal for my sake, not his. I looked at him and saw there was something miraculous about him just the way he was! [RE-ENTER CHEK with can of polish and rag hidden behind his back.] Have you got the special brass polish? [CHEK proudly produces polish from behind his back.] And the special polishing rag? [CHEK proudly produces rag.] That is very, very good, my son. Go now and do your work.
EXIT CHEK.
PAK: You can see that to him I am everything. His whole world. His God. Without me he is utterly lost. With me the sun is shining and he is a contented child. He will be a contented child until the day he dies. But is that so terrible? To be 21 and to sleep with a teddy bear? He will never know what it is to be like us. To have a wife who dies; to have bills that must be paid. He doesn’t even know what death is! But this is not our story. My son and I are only very minor characters in this story. My function is to set the scene and introduce you to the principal characters. So you can all sit back and relax for a few more minutes—nothing important will happen while I occupy the center of the stage!
Now I will set the scene for you. This is a famous health spa. The spring waters here are said to contain rare salts and minerals which rejuvenate the vital juices of the body. In the old days, the Royalty of all Europe would visit here. The town itself is situated around the shore of a beautiful lake. Surrounding us there are green wooded hills and mountains. It’s as pretty as the picture postcards they sell at the tobacconist’s. And this is my hotel. It is called the Hotel Philadelphia. People think I chose that name as a clever trap to catch the American tourists. But "Philadelphia" is not an American word. It’s a Greek word. It means "brotherhood." My late wife wanted to call it the Aabac Hotel [Spells out ‘AABAC’] That way, she said, we would have been listed first in the telephone directory. She had a good head for things like that, my late wife. As it is, we are listed last; and for 20 years I have been struggling to make ends meet. Perhaps I should have named this hotel the Aabac!
We are a one star hotel. Our rates are reasonable and our rooms are bright and clean. The food is plain but wholesome. All things considered, The Hotel Philadelphia is a good value for money. Just now it’s the height of the season. The rich and famous and beautiful people are coming in droves to take the cure by day and amuse themselves in the casino by night. The men are all tall and handsome, and the women are all beautiful Yes, the women who frequent this spa are the kind you see in those glossy glamor magazines—[Emerging from reverie.] Of course we don’t see the glamorous people in this end of town. They stay in the 4-star hotels situated near the casino—
SALT rings small bell at his table.
PAK: When he rings that bell it is a signal—the signal it is 9 o’clock and I have forgotten to light his cigar. For 20 years he has been having a cigar at 9 o’clock and for 20 years I have been lighting it for him. You’d think I might know the routine by now—but for some strange reason I always wait until he rings the bell a second time.
SALT rings bell.PAK lights SALT’s cigar.
PAK: This man’s name is Salt. Mr Adam Salt. He is the main character in this story. With his wife he has been coming to my hotel every summer for 20 years. He is an official at the Krap Petrochemical plant. An expert in synthetics—[SALT rings bell.] Now he wants me to put an ashtray under his cigar. I should do it straightaway, but—something holds me back. Is he not entitled to have an ashtray slipped under his cigar? Even at a one star hotel? Then why do I make him ring twice? [SALT rings bell. PAK puts ashtray under SALT’s cigar.] Did you notice, a moment ago, how he slipped the band off that cigar and carefully tucked it in his pocket as though he were saving it for future use? That’s a little trick of his. The band is from a famous brand of 5 shilling cigars. But you can tell from the aroma of the one he’s smoking that it’s nothing like a 5-shilling cigar. It is more like the 5-for-a-shilling kind! But am I not guilty of the same pretensions; calling myself "an hotelier" when what am I really, but a chief cook and bottle washer? And what right have I to go on talking about myself when this story is about him! I am supposed to be merely the scenesetter and already I have told you about my dead wife and my idiot son and all the difficulties of running a secondrate hotel! All right! We shall begin! Now you will have to sit up and pay attention!
The weather this morning is perfect! The temperature is ideal. Not too warm and not too cool. The sky is bright, bright blue! There are a few clouds but they are small and white and fleecy. The earth is solid and firm beneath our feet. It’s like a Garden of Eden! You would never dream we are hurtling through space at a stupendous rate of speed. Since I began speaking to you we have all traveled over a million miles—and that doesn’t take into account the movement of the galaxy itself! [SALT rings bell urgently.] Yes. Now it all begins! [Goes to SALT.] Yes, sir.
SALT: Waiter, there’s something wrong with this coffee. I want you to taste it.
PAK: But it is the same coffee as always, sir. Purest, freshest Guatemalan.
SALT: I’m telling you there’s something wrong with it. I want you to taste it.
PAK: There really is no reason for me to taste it, sir. I measured the precise number of beans and roasted them to the peak of perfection. Then I ground them by hand, added the boiling spring water and watched the liquid pass through the special filter. I verified the color of the brew and savored its magnificent bouquet. Sir: I have been making your coffee for 20 years now and can assure you there is nothing wrong with it this morning.
SALT: Nevertheless I insist—I insist that you taste it!
PAK shrugs, sighs, takes cup, sips, swishes liquid in his mouth, puts cup down, pauses.
PAK: It’s—cold.
SALT: There! You see? There was something wrong with it! The little candle warmer has gone out!
PAK relights warmer.
SALT: Let that be a lesson to you, waiter.
PAK: Sir?
SALT: Sometimes the truth is as plain as the nose on your face.
PAK: Yes, sir—
SALT: By paying attention to the smallest details one can avoid the most monumental calamities. Yes—life is full of lethal traps, waiter.
PAK: Yes, sir. Is that all now, sir?
SALT: No. I’ve made a small wager with my wife. She says the temperature is over 80 and I say it isn’t. I want to find out the exact temperature.
PAK: I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have a thermometer.
SALT: There’s a thermometer at the tobacconist’s, isn’t there?
PAK: The tobacconist is 5 blocks from here!
SALT: And whose fault is that? Every hotel should have a thermometer, waiter. I’m sure if I were to check the civic regulations governing such things—
PAK: There is no need to do that, sir. I will go to the tobacconist. [EXIT.]
SALT: [To audience.] That fellow has a tendency to hide behind his one star rating. He doesn’t appreciate the importance of maintaining standards. If one star fails to mean anything, what will become of 2 stars and 3 stars? The other day I had to point out to him that the marquee over the entrance had a tear in it. He answered that most one star hotels didn’t even have a marquee. I said I wasn’t interested in most one star hotels; only this one! As for that business about the temperature—it might seem capricious to send a man on such an errand, but for me it points up how much for granted we take things like the temperature. For all we know the polar ice caps could be melting. Temperature is important. Did you know, for instance, there has never been a really advanced civilization in the tropics?
MRS SALT: What’s that dear?
SALT: I was speaking to the audience.
MRS SALT: [Glancing at audience.] Oh.
SALT: Who are you writing to?
MRS SALT: To Ava, of course.
SALT: We haven’t been here 24 hours and you’re writing to our daughter?
MRS SALT: If I didn’t, she might start worrying.
SALT: What’s there to worry about? What could possibly happen to us? The earth is solid under our feet; the air is fresh and pure; and already the spa waters are beginning to flush the poisons from our blood streams. Sitting here one actually feels that God Himself is looking down on us and smiling! Let me see what you’ve written. [Reads postcard.] "Dear Ava. We are staying at the Hotel Philadelphia. Having a wonderful time. The temperature is in the mid 80’s. Love, Mum and Dad." Why, that’s exactly what you wrote last year!
MRS SALT: Last year the temperature was in the upper 70’s—
SALT: And it took you a whole hour to write this? It’s fantastic, this way you have of thinking! You’re wonderful, my darling—so feminine—so sexy!
MRS SALT: Oh, Adam!
SALT: Yes, sexy! Watching you think is absolutely erotic! A strange expression comes over your face—it’s intoxicating; it’s maddening! You’re so full of mysteries, my darling! [Kisses her passionately.]
ENTER PAK breathing hard. He watches SALTS kiss. Clears his throat and:
SALT: Ah—it must be these spa waters of yours bringing out the animal in me!
PAK: The temperature is exactly 80 degrees.
SALT: You mean it was exactly 80 degrees when you were at the tobacconist. By now it could be 80.5 or 79.7. And how can you be sure the tobacconist’s thermometer was accurate? You shouldn’t be so dogmatic, Mister Waiter. In the petrochemical business we calibrate to within 0.0003. Can you appreciate that?
PAK: I’m afraid not, sir.
SALT: Of course you can’t! You’re a waiter, aren’t you? Can you imagine a waiter calibrating to within 0.003? You have nothing to calibrate, have you! [Laughs.] Sometimes I wish I were a waiter. Life in the petrochemical business is no bed of roses, I can tell you!
While clearing table PAK drops a dish.
SALT: A mistake like that in my business can cost a man his entire career. One false move, one slight miscalculation—and you are finished for life. In 20 years I haven’t dropped a single dish! It’s like walking a tightrope while carrying a vial of nitroglycerine. So. Maybe I deserve to sit in the sun and smoke my cigar and have the temperature told to me, eh? Is that too much to ask?
PAK: No, sir—[EXIT.]
SALT: He thinks I’m being arrogant—
MRS SALT: [Still writing.] Who does?
SALT: The waiter. He resents being a waiter so he takes it out on me.
MRS SALT: I should think he enjoys being a waiter, dear.
SALT: What gives you that idea?
MRS SALT: If he didn’t enjoy being a waiter, he wouldn’t be a waiter, would he?
SALT: Ah! Ah—ha, ha, ha! You’re thinking again, aren’t you my little sex kitten!
ENTER YOUNG WOMAN wearing ‘business’ suit that reveals extensive areas of cleavage and legs. She remains downstage clutching handbag, obviously nervous—now and then glancing at SALT. CHEK ENTERS, puts up sign stating: ‘GUATEMALAN COFFEE PICKERS DEMAND LIVING WAGES.’ SALT pretends not to notice YOUNG WOMAN. CHEK lingers on stage to observe.
SALT: Maybe he doesn’t understand my northern sense of humor. Did you notice how he failed to appreciate that joke I made about the cold coffee? [Eyeing YOUNG WOMAN.] What?
MRS SALT: I didn’t say anything, Adam. [Pause.] Is that young woman trying to get your attention?
SALT: What young woman? [Looks in wrong direction.]
MRS SALT: That attractive young woman over there—the one who is walking toward us.
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: Excuse me—do you speak English?
SALT: Of course we speak English—this is England, isn’t it?
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: That’s true but, one never knows—there are so many foreigners here this time of year—
SALT: But we look English, don’t we?
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: I’m sorry—Yes—Of course—I should have known—[Sobs.]
SALT: What’s the matter? [Rises.] Here; you’d better sit down.
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: [Sitting.] I’m all right, really—just a trifle nervous.
MRS SALT: Nervous? What is there to be nervous about?
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: [Crossing legs, giving SALT gander at thigh.] My husband is ill.
MRS SALT: Oh, tch, tch—
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: It’s nothing really serious; just a broken ankle.
MRS SALT: I’m glad.
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: He’s at home minding the baby so I can go out to work. Before we were married I was a secretary. We shouldn’t have gotten married but the baby was on the way and we were deeply in love and—anyway, my husband was only on the job 2 weeks when he fell off a ladder and broke his ankle and I tried getting back into secretarial work but nobody wants temporary help, do they? My husband says I should tell them I’m looking for steady employment but I just can’t bring myself to tell a lie—
SALT: Good for you! Lying is never the answer!
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: It’s not that my husband is a bad man; but we’re out of food and the rent is due and—anyway, yesterday I found a firm that would hire me on a temporary basis—
SALT: You see? Every cloud has a silver lining. God rewards the virtuous, doesn’t He? Things may get rough, but in the final analysis you can always count on Him coming through in the end.
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: I don’t know what to believe anymore! This morning I was so full of hope. I got up at 5 a.m. and spent 2 hours bathing and getting dressed—
MRS SALT: You look very nice!
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: You don’t think I should have put on some perfume?
SALT: There’s no finer perfume in the world than the smell of soap and water on a woman’s skin. A smell like that can drive a man cra—[Catching himself.] it’s a very—wholesome smell—soap and water.
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: You don’t think this dress is too short, or shows too much cleavage?
MRS SALT: I think it looks just right on you; don’t you agree, Adam?
SALT: It seems to be—very—it’s—
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: I left the house an hour early so I’d be sure not to miss the bus. When it came in sight I felt so excited! Everything seemed to be working out just perfectly! And then—disaster struck!
MRS SALT: Disaster?
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: I was supposed to transfer here from the number 9 to the number 12 bus; but I had forgotten to take a transfer when I left the number 9. And I had used my last thruppence for the fare—[Sobs.]
SALT: Is that what’s upsetting you so? Why didn’t you just ask for thruppence straight off? Here—here’s your thruppence; here’s a whole shilling in fact! What am I saying? Take this half-crown! Is that enough? What about your lunch? You’d better take this—[Produces banknote from wallet.]
ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN: A 10 shilling note! [Rises.] When I first saw you I knew; you had such a kind and humane face—the face of a saint! [Bends, kisses SALT on forehead.] I won’t ever forget you—not ever—[Blows kiss on EXIT.]
MRS SALT: The poor thing—she reminded me of Ava. Didn’t she remind you of Ava?
SALT: [Still reeling from kiss.]—Ava?
MRS SALT: Our daughter!
SALT: Ah!
MRS SALT: And, speaking of Ava, I’d better take this card to the post office so she’ll get it tomorrow. [EXIT after having kissed SALT on forehead.]
KOP ENTERS wearing white suit, hat, shoes and dark glasses. He sits at table nearest to SALT.
SALT: [Putting wallet away.] Maybe I should have given her more—for the baby—
KOP: If I were you I wouldn’t go about flashing that fat wallet.
SALT: Are you talking to me?
KOP: Just some friendly advice.
SALT: [Sitting with back to KOP.] This may surprise you, but I wasn’t born yesterday.
KOP: It doesn’t surprise me. As a matter of fact you were born 43 years ago this September the 9th.
SALT: [Turning.] How did you know that?
KOP: It’s my business to know such things, Salt.
SALT: You know my name, too? Should I recognize you? It’s hard to see your face—
KOP: I’m incognito.
SALT: Isn’t there a law against that?
KOP: I am the law, Salt.
SALT: Police?
KOP: I have credentials if you won’t accept my word.
SALT: Why shouldn’t I accept your word?
CHEK puts up sign: ‘GUATEMALAN COFFEE PICKERS REFUSE TO PICK COFFEE. SITUATION TENSE.’
KOP: Some people don’t. Some people are suspicious of the police.
SALT: [Crossing legs.] I’ve got nothing to hide.
KOP: Yes. So far your record is spotless.
SALT: My record?
KOP: We’ve been keeping tabs on you since you first came here on your honeymoon 20 years ago. In all that time you haven’t so much as spit on the sidewalk or discarded a single cigar band. Your behavior has been unimpeachable.
SALT: As a child I was taught to obey the law—
KOP: And to respect the police?
SALT: Of course—
KOP: And to support the police?
SALT: Certainly—
KOP: And to cooperate with the police?
SALT: Yes—
KOP: [Nods head slowly 7 times.] Good!
SALT rises as if to leave.
KOP: Where are you going!!!!
SALT: I was just going to look for my wife. We usually take a stroll after breakfast.
KOP: Yes! I know all about your "strolls!" [Takes out notebook, reads.] At 9:27 you arrive at the square to feed the pigeons. 9:41—the bandstand for a free morning concert. 10:12 to 10:38—a walk along the lake front and a look at the casino. 11 sharp—the cafe on the pier for sugar wafers and tea. By 12:15 you are back in your room for a nap before lunch—[Closing notebook.] Now and then you will make love to your wife instead of taking the nap—
SALT: You watch us making love!
KOP: Sodomy is a crime, Salt!
SALT: Are you accusing me of sodomy?
KOP: [Pause.] No—
SALT: Then why do you watch us?
KOP: How would we know you were innocent if we didn’t keep tabs on you?
SALT: I would have thought we were entitled to the benefit of a doubt after 20 years—
KOP: [Ferociously.] You are entitled to nothing in the war against crime! If it weren’t for the 24-hour vigilance of the police, England could be knee deep in sodomy! [Subsiding.] Do you think I enjoy peeking through keyholes? I’m a soldier doing my duty. And I bear the scars of what I’ve seen up here—[Taping head.] My own sex life has been irreparably damaged in the crusade against perversion. I’m under constant pressure, Salt. I didn’t mean to jump all over you just now, but first you promise to help me and then you try to skip out!
SALT: I wasn’t skipping—
KOP: Good! Then we understand each other. Now, I want you to tell me everything you know about that person you were just talking to—[Opens notebook, licks pencilpoint.]
CHEK puts up sign: ‘BLOOD FLOWS ON GUATEMALA COFFEE PLANTATIONS.’
SALT: A complete stranger. Never saw her before.
KOP: Hmmm—And?
SALT: She needed carfare.
KOP: Which you provided?
SALT: Yes.
KOP: How much?
SALT: 10 shillings.
KOP: 10 shillings? For ten shillings one can travel all the way to John O’ Groats!
SALT: She only asked for thruppence—
KOP: Then why did you give more?
CHEK puts up sign: ‘COFFEE PICKERS DEMAND SIX QUETZALS A DAY OR DEATH!’
SALT: She was in distress.
KOP: Are you sure about that?
SALT: I’m a good judge of such things. That young woman was definitely telling a true story.
KOP: What young woman?
SALT: The young woman we’re talking about!
KOP: We are not talking about a young woman.
SALT: This is very confusing—
KOP: It’s really very simple, Salt; you have just been swindled by a female impersonator named Bruce.
SALT: That’s impossible!
KOP: Why impossible?
SALT: She kissed me!
KOP: And if I kissed you, would that make me a woman?
SALT: I wouldn’t let you kiss me!
KOP: Why not?
SALT: Because you’re a man!
KOP: But Bruce is a man and you let Bruce kiss you!
SALT: Bruce was a woman—I mean—I mean I know a woman when I see one!
KOP: Oh?
SALT: When she was leaning over I could see her—I couldn’t help but notice her—cleavage.
KOP: So, just because Bruce has the bosom of a woman, you leap to the conclusion that Bruce is a woman?
SALT: If I see a large gray animal with tusks and a long trunk, I leap to the conclusion I am seeing an elephant!
KOP: [Pounding table.] We are not discussing elephants!!!!
SALT: She even smelled like a woman!
KOP: Of course he smelled like a woman. Bruce is a professional! That’s what makes this female impersonation business so tricky. Only an expert like me can tell the difference between a real woman and a counterfeit. Can you understand what a burden that is?
CHEK puts up sign: ‘GUATEMALA GOVERNMENT FALLS. COFFEE MARKETS PANIC.’
SALT: I really don’t see how I can be of any help—
KOP: I want to deputize you as my special undercover agent.
SALT: But I’m not qualified—you just said so—
KOP: I have a book here that will explain—[Takes book from inside belt.]
SALT: [Receiving book, reading cover.] "My Struggle Against Crime and Sex Deviation: A lifetime Personal Crusade on Behalf of JudeoChristian Principles" by Arturo Kop. Is this right—the price? 50 quid!
KOP: What price truth, Salt? I’m not asking you to buy it; I’m giving it to you. I’ll even autograph it. [Wrenches book away, signs it.] There. Are you still suspicious?
SALT: —No—
KOP: Well, you should be! You should be suspicious of everyone! That is the first principle of crime detection. The professional detective sniffs out the criminal before he commits a crime!
SALT: I never thought of it that way; but you’re right. Otherwise it’s like closing a barn door after the horse has been stolen.
KOP: Who’s talking about horses!!!! People don’t steal horses in this day and age!
SALT: I’m sorry—
KOP: What are you sorry for? This is a free society, isn’t it? Your opinion is as good as anybody else’s, isn’t it? Why are you ingratiating yourself to me? Because I’m a detective? You’re a citizen above suspicion, aren’t you? You are one of the pillars of English society, Salt—a pillar of salt! You’re a rock of middleclass virtue—rock salt! If someone was drowning in the lake, you would jump right in and save him, wouldn’t you?
SALT: I never learned to swim—
KOP: That makes it even more heroic! Your fatherland is drowning, Salt. Your culture is calling out to you from the quicksand of crime and deviation!
SALT: Is it really that bad?
KOP: [Confidentially.] See that old age pensioner across the street? The one with the rosy cheeks and a twinkle in his eye? He’s planning to lure that little girl into the woods and put his horny hand up her dress—And that car! [Writing in notebook.] Doing 25 miles per hour in a 20 miles per hour zone! [Pointing.] That "matronly" lady walking her poodle? A notorious dope peddler on her way to a drop! Down the street the tobacconist is selling pornographic postcards under his counter—and, even here, on this tabletop, one finds gross obscenities scratched into the enamel! I’ll bet you a week’s wages, if you reach under your seat you’ll find wads of chewing gum stuck there in flagrant violation of Ordinance 22. Yes, Salt, we’re drowning alright —drowning in a sea of corruption. I’ve got my finger in the dike but my arm is getting numb. I need help. I need someone like you with a wide forehead and a soul of iron. Maybe the two of us together can hold back the tide. To prove my faith in you I will whisper the policeman’s secret password into your ear. It will seal the bond between us and solemnify this pact we have just made with our intertwining aspirations of universal law and order—[Whispers into SALT’s ear.] We will meet again, comrade. In the meantime our vigilance must be unceasing! [Sudden EXIT.]
CHEK puts up sign: ‘GUATEMALAN JUNTA PROMISES HIGHER WAGES TO COFFEE PICKERS.’
SALT: [Reading Kop’s book.] Fascinating!—Incredible!—Amazing!
ENTER VAKS and MRS SALT (through audience if possible). They are tipsy. They dance and sing:
THE HONEYMOONERS’ SONG
We spent
All our money
On petrol and champagne
The petrol
Burnt our bridges
The champagne
Kindled our heart’s desire
The petrol
The champagne
The money
Burn away
But true love lasts forever
And forever could be today!
VAK: When you’ve sunk beneath the surface.
MRS VAK: When you’ve sunk beneath the surface
VAK: Love is she who lifts you up.
MRS VAK: Love is she who lifts you up.
VAK: When the road is hot and dusty.
MRS VAK: When the road is hot and dusty.
VAK: Love is he who fills your cup.
MRS VAK: Love is he who fills your cup.
When song and dance end VAK holds both women in his arms. He wears black motorcycle outfit, holds bottle of champagne in one hand, glasses in the other. MRS VAK wears a very mod but white lace bridal dress. VAK hugs and kisses the women, goes to SALT and tries pouring him a glass of champagne but instead pours most of it on SALT.
SALT: What the hell are you doing!
VAK: Shelebrating! [Falls into chair, taking MRS SALT on to his lap.] Jush got married! [Nuzzles MRS SALT.]
SALT: That’s my wife, you fool!
SALT pulls MRS SALT from VAK. She falls into another chair. MRS VAK sits on VAK’s lap.
MRS SALT: Adam! I’m drunk!
SALT: [Shaking book at VAK.] I could have you arrested for this!
VAK: Is there a law against getting married? [Laughs with MRS VAK.]
SALT: You got my wife drunk! You assaulted her!
MRS VAK: She enjoyed it—didn’t you luv? [MRS SALT giggles with her.]
SALT: Are you trying to make a fool out of me?
MRS VAK: [Mimicking SALT.] Are you trying to make a fool out of me?
SALT: I didn’t make it this far in life on luck!
MRS VAK: I didn’t make it this far in life on luck! [Giggles with VAK.]
SALT: You’ll be laughing out of the other side of your face when you discover you’ve married a murderer!
MRS VAK: You’ll be laughing out of—what do you mean, "a murderer?"
SALT: You’ll know what I mean when he’s got his fingers squeezing your windpipe.
MRS VAK: You hear that, Trev—he says you’re going to strangle me one of these days! [She laughs with VAK.] Trev wouldn’t hurt a fly! He’s a vegetarian!
SALT: [Showing MRS VAK Kop’s book.] So was Hitler.
MRS VAK: Are you comparing my hubby to Adolf Hitler?
SALT: They have certain traits in common—
MRS VAK: Like what!
SALT: Like—their eyes.
MRS VAK: [Looking at VAK’s eyes.] I don’t see anything wrong with his eyes—
VAK: Nuffing wrong wiv my eyes, mate!
SALT approaches VAK with calipers he has removed from a pocket in Kop’s book.
SALT: Hitler’s eyes were only 24 millimeters apart.
VAK: [Shrinking from calipers.] I told you—there ain’t nuffing wrong wiv my eyes!
SALT: Then you shouldn’t mind if I measure them—
VAK: [Covering eyes.] No!
MRS VAK: Oh, go ahead, Trev. You can’t be no Hitler. Show him you’re not afraid. [To SALT.] Go ahead and measure him!
CHEK puts up sign: ‘COFFEE PRICES SOAR!’ SALT measures VAK’s eyes, reads scale.
MRS VAK: Well? What’s it say?
SALT: Exactly—24 millimeters!
VAK: It’s a lie! A rotten, stinking lie! [To MRS VAK.] It’s a trick! You’ve got to believe me, Cleo!!!!
SALT: Careful! This could be one of his homicidal fits—
VAK: [Grabs MRS VAK, shakes her.] It’s not true! Don’t you believe me? [Has his hands on her neck. suddenly desists, goes to table, sobs.] I don’t want to kill nobody—it isn’t my fault if my eyes are close together—
SALT: I think he’ll be all right now. The danger has passed.
VAK: Why would I want to kill my wife? I love her!
SALT: You can’t help yourself. Your eyes—
VAK: What about your eyes?
SALT: My eyes? Don’t be ridiculous! Can’t you see how far apart they are? How broad the bridge of my nose is? How wide my forehead is? Physiologically we’re different types altogether.
VAK: It’s only your fat nose that makes your eyes look far apart.
SALT: We’ll just measure them and see, eh? The calipers don’t lie. They don’t know whose eyes they’re measuring, do they? [Measures own eyes, passes calipers to MRS SALT.] Well—what does it say?
MRS SALT: [Putting on reading glasses, and studying scale.] It says—24 millimeters.
Exultant reaction from VAKS.
SALT: Impossible! You must have squeezed them! [Remeasures himself, reads scale.]—24 millimeters! It can’t be!
CHEK puts up sign: ‘EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY: POT OF COFFEE COSTS ONE SHILLING. HOTEL PHILADELPHIA MANAGEMENT.’ SALT measures MRS SALT’s eyes.
SALT: 24 millimeters! What does it mean? Are we all Hitlers?
MRS SALT: Maybe it means we’re all fools!
General laughter.
SALT: [Tearing up Kop’s book.] Yes! We’re all fools! Well, in that case, let’s be really foolish! No more thinking today! We’ll behave like children and spend the day at the amusement park! The treat is on me!
ALL EXIT joyously. PAK ENTERS to clear table.
PAK: Mr Salt! Come back! You haven’t left enough to cover the bill!
PAK runs off after SALTS and VAKS. Curtain.
Scene 2
Disguised as potted plant or palm tree, KOP ENTERS to address audience in front of curtain.
KOP: Go ahead—have a good laugh! I’m used to being ridiculed. Someday though, you will erect statues in my honor! Statues of gleaming white marble. Statues that will line the wide boulevards of a new social order. That’s what I stand for. A new world. A decent world—a clean world. A world full of clean, decent people who are married to other clean and decent people. In my world you will live a long, meaningful life and grow old in dignity. You will be surrounded by the love and respect of your offspring. There won’t be any crime or pornography in my world. No strikes, no rising prices! The men will be strong and hard and the women will be soft and supple. That is the world I dream of. That is the world I am struggling to create! [Pause.]
You’ve stopped laughing! Salt has torn the pages of my book, that’s true—but I have not given up on him. I have not misjudged him. You will see. Kop is right! In the end, Salt’s finer qualities will rise to the surface. They will be fired in the red hot furnace of history. They will be annealed in the whirlwind of events. The crude iron of his soul will become stainless steel!
Curtain opens to reveal:
Scene 3
SALTS and VAKS in small ‘rowboat.’ SALT is ‘rowing’ at leisurely pace. CHEK puts up sign: ‘SALT DEMONSTRATES HIS ROWING TECHNIQUE AND NAVIGATIONAL SKILLS ON WAY FROM AMUSEMENT PARK TO CASINO’
MRS VAK: [Trailing hand in ‘water.’] It’s been a super day, Mr Salt—the hot sun beating down on my face and my hand trailing in the cool water—it’s exactly how I dreamed my honeymoon would be—
Music up for:
HOW SWEET IT IS
How sweet it is when you are young
To close your eyes and feel the burning sun
To know a lovely dream has just begun
A dream that never ends
How sweet the sound of simple words
Can be to you when they’re whispered and heard
In the shadows of a dream
And the dream lingers on
Through the days
Through the nights
Through the seasons that change with each beat of my heart
As I race to the summit and
Raise my arms to greet the dawn
I’m dreaming still dreaming
When you are very young like me
How sweet it is
VAKS leave boat and dance on ‘water’ during instrumental chorus of song. After which, VAK helps MRS VAK back into boat.
MRS SALT: That is what it’s like when you’re young. You feel as if you can dance on water!
SALT: Being young is just a transitory phenomenon. Having reached middle age is really much more satisfying state of affairs.
VAK: I don’t follow you, Salt. Wouldn’t you rather have that tight feeling of youth in your belly instead of those gray hairs in your head?
SALT: I’ve earned these gray hairs. The hardbellied feelings of a young man are only his delusions of invulnerability. Until he passes the test of time a young man is nothing more than one of life’s countless casualties waiting to happen. Think of all the streets I’ve crossed without having my future snuffed out by a motor car! That’s not accidental. I always keep my eyes open. I always know just where I’m going. Have you noticed how we are heading straight for the casino?
VAK: I’ve been meaning to ask you about that, Salt. You haven’t turned around once to see where we’re going—yet we are right on course for the casino. You’re full of tricks, aren’t you?
SALT: It’s not a trick. When we began this voyage I drew an imaginary line between the casino and that tall pink building behind us. As long as I keep that building lined up with a certain notch on the stern of the boat, I should be steering straight for the casino. What seems like magic is only the application of elementary navigational principles.
VAK: Where did you learn all that stuff, Mr Salt?
SALT: In the college of life, my boy!
VAK: You think I could get into a place like that?
MRS VAK: Oh, you great silly! That’s a joke! This is the college of life! It’s all around us, isn’t it, Mr Salt?
SALT: [Laughs.] Yes. It’s all around us!
VAK: Look at that speedboat! Must be doing 60! Kicking up a milehigh spray! Someday we’ll have a boat like that. Someday we’ll have everything we want.
MRS VAK: Isn’t it beautiful—the way it skims across the water!
SALT: Speedboats are fine things; until they run out of petrol or the carburetor clogs or the propeller shaft develops a warp or the bearings—
MRS VAK: They’re waving to us!
SALT: They’ve stopped—
VAK: They’re dead in the water! They’re yelling to us—
MRS VAK: They’ve run out of petrol, just like you said they would, Mr Salt!
VAK: Now we’re the ones cruising right past them! [Makes obscene gesture.] So, this is the college of life!
PAK ENTERS in small ‘boat,’ rowing furiously. Not seeing where he is headed, he collides with Salt’s boat.
PAK: Mr Salt! Thank God I’ve found you at last!
SALT: What’s the matter?
MRS SALT: Is it a message from our daughter Ava? She’s not in hospital, is she!
PAK: No, no! Please don’t get excited! It’s just a minor detail—a technicality, that’s all! Nothing to worry about! When you left the hotel this morning you didn’t leave sufficient money to pay for your breakfast, that’s all.
SALT: What are you talking about? I left a half-crown. The same half-crown I’ve been leaving for every morning for 20 years. We always have the same breakfast and the bill is always 2 and 6—
PAK: I brought the bill for you to examine, Mr Salt. [Hands bill to SALT.]
SALT: [Studies bill.] Ah, there’s your mistake, waiter. Coffee is only sixpence a pot and you’ve marked it down as a shilling.
PAK: [Produces sign from bottom of boat.] I thought you might not have noticed the new price.[Sign states: ‘EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY. POT OF COFFEE COSTS ONE SHILLING. HOTEL PHILADELPHIA MANAGEMENT.’]
SALT: That sign doesn’t prove anything. You can’t change things that are changeless. A pot of coffee has always been sixpence. It is only worth sixpence. Q.E.D., it will always cost sixpence—
PAK: There is some socio-economic turbulence in the jungles of Guatemala, Mr Salt—
SALT: What the hell have the jungles of Guatemala got to do with me?
PAK: The Guatemalan coffee pickers have gone on strike. They’ve burnt the coffee warehouses to the ground. Blood is running in the streets of Guatemala City. Q.E.D. coffee prices have doubled.
CHEK puts up sign: ‘COLLAPSE OF GUATEMALAN QUETZAL PUTS INTENSE PRESSURE ON POUND STERLING’
SALT: This is crazy! Here we are in the middle of an English lake discussing the jungles of Guatemala and arguing over sixpence!
PAK: I must have the full amount of the bill, Mr Salt. It seems a small sum I know; but the butcher will not leave tonight’s meat unless yesterday’s bill is paid to the farthing—and if the butcher is not paid the greengrocer will hear of it, and the wine merchant, and soon the bank manager will be pounding on my door demanding the mortgage.
CHEK puts up sign: ‘MARK, GUILDER AND KRONER PLUMMET!’
SALT: What’s that got to do with me?
PAK: The sixpence you owe me is a matter of my economic life or death. I am only asking you for what is rightfully mine!
SALT: Then you shall get what you deserve, Mister Waiter! [Takes coin from pocket.]
PAK: Thank you, Mr Salt. I knew I could rely on your British sense of fair play.
SALT holds coin out at arm’s length. PAK gets on his knees to reach for it. He extends his arm as far as he can. Just as he is about to take coin from SALT it falls into ‘water.’ VAKS and SALTS laugh at PAK’s dismay. CHEK puts up sign: ‘THE SILVER COIN SINKS SLOWLY TO THE LAKE’S BOTTOM.’
VAK: Look at the expression on his face!
PAK: Why did you do that, Mr Salt? [VAKS and SALTS laugh.] Was it an accident? [VAKS and SALTS laugh.] What am I to do now?
VAKS and SALTS laugh. SALT rows away from PAK’s boat. During following speech VAKS and SALTS disembark and EXIT.
PAK: [To audience.] Is it funny that a man’s life should be ruined because of sixpence? Is it amusing that to me that little silver coin means salvation? Let me ask you all this: do you laugh when the cashier says your bill is two and ninepence and you reach into your pocket and come up with only two and thruppence? Are you smiling when the manager appears with a grave expression and demands the full amount? You are three pennies short, he says! Alarm bells go off! The crowd takes a step back from you; as if the word "leprosy" had been spoken. And suddenly you are all alone, hanging from the edge of a precipice by just your fingernails—[Mimes pulling himself up.] You struggle to pull yourself up and find that a hellish blast of air has ripped away your clothes and you are naked in the middle of a strange, dark street. As you turn your head you hear doors and shutters closing like coffin lids. You call out for help! But only the echo of your own cry comes back. You hear laughter behind the doors and shutters—and something else, behind you, in the darkness—the terrible breathing sounds of an animal stalking you from the depths of a childhood nightmare! You shut your eyes tight but inside your brain a fang takes shape and starts tearing its way down your cheek until it severs the jugular vein and blood hisses out of you like air leaving a balloon—that is what this little coin means to me—[Peers into ‘water.’] I can still see it gleaming beneath the water—the frailest vestige of all my hopes—if only I could swim! If only help could come to me from some miraculous quarter! [Looks about.] A crowd has gathered on the shore. They are waiting to see if I will risk my life for this tiny disc of silver. [Calling to crowd.] Many have risked their lives for less! [Looks at CHEK.] Chek, my son! If only there was time to explain it all to you! But time is running out. Soon the coin will be lost in the mud. [To audience.] I stretched my fingers as far as I could! You saw me do that! You saw me try! Remember! Remember me! [Dives into ‘water.’]
Blackout or curtain.
Scene 4
SALTS and VAKS are hustled by CASINO MANAGER through curtains or from wing to footlights.
CASINO MANAGER: Can’t you read? Members only allowed inside the casino!
VAK: We are members—members of the human race!
CASINO MANAGER: Try the Penny Arcade on the pier—[Shoves VAK.]
VAK: You can’t push us around, you bloody fascist bastard! [Shoves CASINO MANAGER.]
CASINO MANAGER: I’ll have the police on you, you dirty bolshevik! [Puts whistle in mouth, blows one note before VAK seizes him by throat.]
SALT: Please, Vak!
MRS VAK: You’re killing him, Trev!
MRS SALT screams. KOP (disguised as woman with blonde wig) ENTERS through audience, blowing police whistle.
KOP: In the name of British justice, I order you to cease and desist! [Taking truncheon from large handbag, clubs VAK.]
CASINO MANAGER: This hooligan tried to strangle me!
VAK: He punched my wife in the stomach—
SALT: It was just a misunderstanding, officer—
KOP: Just a moment—[Takes CASINO MANAGER aside and whispers in his ear.]
CASINO MANAGER: If you’ll come this way, ladies and gentlemen, I will escort you to the Grand Salon! [Holds curtain open.]
VAK: That’s more like it!
VAKS and MRS SALT EXIT through curtain followed by CASINO MANAGER. KOP restrains SALT. Curtain closes. KOP removes wig.
SALT: So, it’s you!
KOP: Yes. We meet again Salt! Anything to report? Who are these characters you’re consorting with?
SALT: Harmless honeymooners—
KOP: Is that all? Nothing to report then?
SALT: Nothing important.
KOP: But something?
SALT: A minor altercation on the lake—
KOP: [Takes out notebook.] I saw a crowd gathering—
SALT: The waiter from the Hotel Philadelphia collided with our boat—
KOP: [Writing.] Collided!
SALT: He demanded some money—
KOP: Demanded!
SALT: Tried to overcharge on a pot of coffee—
KOP: Overcharged! Good, good! Reckless navigation, extortion and piracy on the high seas! Not bad for your first day on the job, Salt! Here, sign this complaint.
SALT: Is it that serious? It was only a matter of sixpence—
KOP: The magnitude of a crime can’t be measured in pounds, shillings and pence, Salt. A public outrage has been committed. The scales of justice are out of balance! You’re not trying to weasel out of your law enforcement responsibilities, are you?
SALT: No, no—alright—I’ll sign it. [Does so.]
KOP: There! We’ve nailed our first varmint to the cross of law and order! And this is only the beginning, Salt! [Music up for Deja Vu Twostep.] We’re going to clean up this stinking human sewer!
Curtains open on Casino ballroom. KOP and SALT dance their way into crowd of gamblers and other dancers.
Scene 5
CASINO MANAGER comes downstage to sing:
THE DEJA VU TWOSTEP
Every evening
To my casino
Come the nicest people
Looking for something
That will stimulate their jaded senses
Murder might do
But killing people
Doesn’t kill that
Sense of deja vu
ENSEMBLE: But killing people
Doesn’t kill this need we have
For something new
to rid us of this
Sense of deja vu
During instrumental reprise DOCTOR SIK and MRS VAK dance into spotlight.
SIK: I hope this surgical mask I’m wearing doesn’t offend you, but I must protect myself from the stream of potentially lethal microorganisms emanating from your lips.
MRS VAK: I beg your pardon!
SIK: It’s nothing personal.
MRS VAK: Trev says my breath smells like newmown hay!
SIK: Are your cheeks always that flushed?
MRS VAK: It’s "Virginal Blush" from Woolworth’s.
SIK: Give you a dose of skin cancer, that stuff will. The coal tar. Here’s my card in case you get it. We can cure anything if you’ve got the money. I’d have that mole looked at too; and the way your eyes are bulging I wouldn’t be surprised to see you with a goiter in six months. Still, not to worry—modern medicine can work all sorts of miracles. Would you believe I’m 87? I can recommend a Swiss clinic that can supply you with the sexdrive of a pubescent orangutan!
MRS VAK: I’ve already got that!
They laugh and dance back into crowd.
CASINO MANAGER: Every evening
To my casino
Come the richest people
Begging for something that will activate their vital juices
Gambling might do
But losing money doesn’t lose that sense of deja vu
ENSEMBLE: But losing money
Doesn’t help you lose
This awful case of blues
It only makes you feel
Like deja vu
SLIK and MRS SALT dance into spotlight.
SLIK: I’ll come right to the point, Mrs Salt. Do you believe in God?
MRS SALT: Is that a trick question?
SLIK: The trick question would have been—does God believe in you?
MRS SALT: I let my husband think about such matters. I’m not very clever.
SLIK: According to the Bible it is people like you, Mrs Salt, who will one day inherit the earth. Therefore, you have nothing to complain about now, do you?
MRS SALT: I’m not complaining!
SLIK: Neither am I! I’m rich, goodlooking and extremely intelligent.
MRS SALT: And I’m not any of those things!
SLIK: Tell me, Mrs Salt-of-the-earth—what would you think if the chimpanzees got together one Friday afternoon and crucified another chimp?
They laugh and dance back into crowd.
CASINO MANAGER: Every evening
To my casino
Come the fat canaries
Seeking some thrill
To fill
The void within their gilded cages
Drinking might do
But when you’ve drunk your fill
There’s still
That sense of deja vu
ENSEMBLE: But getting tight each night
Becomes a pattern that incites us
To the most severe attack
Of deja vu
VAK and ECSTASY STARR dance into spotlight.
VAK: My God, you’re lovely! I can’t believe I’ve actually got you in my arms. You’re a living legend!
ECSTASY STARR: [Laughs.] That doesn’t mean I don’t soil my underwear.
VAK: Your underwear must be divine!
ECSTASY STARR: What about the garlic on my breath?
VAK: Your garlic—I mean, your breath is intoxicating! You’re a real goddess, you are.
ECSTASY STARR: [Laughing.] A goddess who shaves her legs! Can you feel that little bump at the base of my spine?
VAK: What the hell is it?
ECSTASY STARR: My vestigial tail.
VAK: I love your vestigial tail!
ECSTASY STARR: Don’t you understand? We’re just animals standing on our hind legs pretending to be people. See that cow over there smoking a cigarette?
VAK: And that baboon sipping his martini!
ECSTASY STARR: Out on the lawn two dogs are kissing in the moonlight. And, up on that hill, the chimpanzees are erecting a cross—
VAK: Oh God, I want to sink my teeth into you!
They laugh and dance into the crowd.
CASINO MANAGER: Every evening
To my casino
Come the burntout cases
Hoping to find
A little flame among the dying embers
Romance might do
But in the midst of loving
Comes that sense of deja vu
ENSEMBLE: But in the midst of loving
Comes that hauntingly
Familiar voice that tells you
It has all been done before!
ARCHBISHOP and SALT dance into spotlight.
ARCHBISHOP: My presence in this temple of Babylon is explained thusly, Salt: if God is everywhere, why shouldn’t I be?
SALT: That makes sense.
ARCHBISHOP: Besides, I feel at home here! I’m attracted like a moth to the flame of all this glamor. One needn’t speculate too assiduously on the question of in whose image these beautiful people are made! Listen to the rustle of the silk they wear. Let us close our eyes and inhale the heavenly fragrance of money and power!
SALT: I’m getting dizzy!
ARCHBISHOP: This is where you want to be when the world ends, my boy. Someday a gust of galactic wind will burst open the door and Christ himself will enter this casino wearing a powder blue dinner jacket and a crown of nuclear warheads. Lightning will crackle from his fingertips. The smell of brimstone will pervade the airconditioned atmosphere! The righteous will stand one side of the room and the wicked on the other! And which side will you be on, Salt? Are you one of the righteous?
SALT: Me? I’m not prepared to enter a plea—
ARCHBISHOP: No vacillation, Salt! His eyes will be like two laser beams searing into your brain. How do you plead? Guilty or innocent?
SALT: I need some time to think about a question like that—
ARCHBISHOP: He’ll never fall for that old Everyman ploy, my son!
They dance into crowd. As song ends, a roulette table is moved to center stage. CROWD gathers around it. SALTS and VAKS come downstage.
CASINO MANAGER: Ladies and gentlemen! The gambling will now begin!
MRS VAK: Look at those gold sovereigns!
VAK: A single turn of the wheel and a man wins more than I’ll earn in a lifetime!
SALT: Or loses!
VAK: You only need a little luck.
SALT: And a gold sovereign to get into the game. Just one gold sovereign. Like this one! [Shows gold coin.] Would you like it?
VAK: [Reaches for coin, then stops.] I’ve seen you pull that trick before, Salt!
SALT: It’s not a trick. It’s a gift. A wedding present.
VAK: You mean it? [Takes coin, examines it with MRS VAK.]
MRS VAK: Oh, Trev! Isn’t it pretty!
VAK: Come on, Cleo! [Starts taking her to roulette table.]
SALT: Wait! Think what you could buy with that gold coin!
VAK: Think what I could win with it!
SALT: But if you lose you’ll have nothing!
VAK: If I win I might have everything! Wish us luck! [VAKS cross to roulette table.]
MRS SALT: Don’t look so sad, Adam. They’re young—
SALT: Must they learn everything the hard way?
MRS SALT: If you know all there is to know when you’re young, what’s the point of growing old?
SALT looks at MRS SALT, astounded by the profundity she has just uttered. VAKS rejoin them.
MRS VAK: Mr and Mrs Salt! Look what we won! [Displays two gold coins.]
VAK: I bet on the black and the black won. Two sovereigns, just like that! A spin of the wheel and you’ve got 6 months’ pay! [Turns toward roulette table.]
SALT: What are you doing? You’ve won two gold sovereigns!
VAK: Can’t stop with just two! [VAKS return to roulette table.]
SALT: [Calling.] You’re only tempting fate! Don’t you realize you can’t beat the system?
MRS VAK: [Calling back.] But we have! We’ve won again! Four sovereigns! Pray for black!
CASINO MANAGER: Number 8—on the black!
VAK: [Calling.] Eight sovereigns, Salt! Such a lovely color, gold!
MRS VAK: [Calling.] Such a lovely color, black!
CASINO MANAGER: Number 19—on the black!
SALTS move closer to roulette table.
MRS VAK: That makes 16 sovereigns!
MRS SALT: 16 sovereigns! That’s a small fortune!
VAK: Too small, Mrs Salt! Spin the wheel!
CASINO MANAGER: 24—on the black!
SALT: Take the money, you fool!
VAK: Our luck’s red hot!
SALT: Yes; and it’s going to burn you!
CASINO MANAGER: Number 32—on the black!
CROWD applauds.
MRS VAK: 128 sovereigns!
MRS SALT: A king’s ransom!
SALT: It’s coming up red this time!
CASINO MANAGER: Black! Black! Black!
Reaction from CROWD as VAKS carry winnings Left. SALTS follow.
MRS VAK: 1,424 gold sovereigns!
VAK: Do you realize we are filthy, bloody, stinking rich? [VAKS embrace.]
SALT: [Stunned.] I don’t believe it—
CASINO MANAGER: Number 11—on the red! [Gasps from CROWD, laughter from VAKS.]
VAK: Now’s the time to bet it all!
MRS VAK: Trev, no! [Follows VAK to roulette where he bets their winnings.]
CASINO MANAGER: Number 17—on the—black!
CROWD reaction. VAKS carry winnings downstage to meet SALTS. Curtains close behind them as casino goes dark.
MRS VAK: 2, 848 gold sovereigns—
VAK: We’re rich, rich, rich—rich! [Twirls MRS VAK.]
SALT: It’s incredible. In less than 5 minutes—to win a fortune like that. What does it mean? A man works a whole lifetime for less. What are the implications?
VAK: Don’t worry Mr Salt. Cleo and I have decided to share our winnings with you and Mrs Salt.
SALT: What are you saying?
MRS VAK: That comes to over 1400 sovereigns!
SALT: But I had nothing to do with it—
VAK: You staked us!
SALT: And I called you a bloody fool!
VAK: I am a bloody fool!
SALT: If I take the money I’d be admitting my whole life was a fraud. I believe in hard work and thrift—
VAK: What’s it matter what you believe, if you’re rich?
SALT: My principles are worth more to me than gold.
VAK: What about my principles?
SALT: Your principles?
VAK: I feel like I’m cheating you.
SALT: In that case; give me back the original sovereign I gave you and we’ll be square.
VAK: Only on the condition you let us take you back to the hotel in the new speedboat I’m going to buy. Well?
SALT: Don’t blame me if it runs out of petrol!
ALL laugh and EXIT through curtain.
Scene 6
SALTS and their luggage discovered at center of a dimly lit stage. CHEK puts up sign: ‘TORTILLAS SOAR TO SIXPENCE PER DOZEN.’
SALT: What’s this? Our luggage in the middle of the street?
MRS SALT: Here’s a note.
SALT: [Reading.] "Dear Mr and Mrs Salt; I regret to inform you the Hotel Philadelphia is bankrupt. Sorry I couldn’t say goodbye to you in person but I’ve been taken to jail on a charge of piracy. Your obedient servant, Pak." Who’s Pak?
MRS SALT: That must be the waiter’s name.
SALT: Well, this is certainly a fine kettle of fish!
MRS SALT starts to weep.
SALT: What’s the matter?
MRS SALT: I’m afraid—
CHEK puts up sign: ‘POUND DEVALUED.’
SALT: What’s there to be afraid of? It isn’t the end of the world. This town is full of hotels—[Sound of thunder.] Quick, before it rains!
They gather luggage and cross Left to meet HOTEL CLERK as he ENTERS.
HOTEL CLERK: Sir?
SALT: We’d like a room.
HOTEL CLERK: We’re full. It’s the height of the season, you know—
CHEK puts up sign: ‘BREAD RISES TO 50 GUINEAS PER LOAF.’
SALT: I know damned well it’s the height of the season! We’ve been coming here for 20 years!
HOTEL CLERK: There’s no need to be uncivilized!
Thunder.
MRS SALT: Come on, Adam, there’s another hotel across the street.
They carry luggage across stage. HOTEL CLERK follows. CHEK puts up sign: ‘POUND DECIMALIZED. EGGS 85 NP EACH.’
HOTEL CLERK: Sir?
SALT: We’d like a room.
HOTEL CLERK: Twin beds or double?
SALT: Double.
HOTEL CLERK: With bath or without?
SALT: With.
HOTEL CLERK: American plan or European?
SALT: It doesn’t matter! Anything. Just some place to sleep! Can’t you see we’re exhausted?
HOTEL CLERK: I’m sorry. We haven’t got any rooms available at the moment sir.
SALT: Then why have you been asking me all these stupid questions!
HOTEL CLERK: I only do as I’m told, sir!
SALT: Well, I’m telling you to go to hell!
SALTS carry luggage to center stage.
SALT: It’s all that damned waiter’s fault—
Thunder.
MRS SALT: It’s starting to rain—
SALT: There’s one more place over there—
SALTS carry luggage left to meet HOTEL CLERK who has crossed stage.
HOTEL CLERK: Sir?
SALT: First of all, are there any rooms left?
HOTEL CLERK: Yes, sir! People have been checking out all evening.
SALT: Thank God.
CHEK puts up sign: ‘NEW POUND GIVES WAY TO BRAND NEW POUND—1 BN£= 10,000 N£.’
HOTEL CLERK: I’ve got a very nice double with a view of the lake for—let me see—2 Brand New Pounds a night.
SALT: That sounds reasonable. We’ll take it. [Gives HOTEL CLERK 2 banknotes.]
HOTEL CLERK: I’m sorry sir, these are old pounds—
SALT: [Checks wallet.] Those are the newest ones I’ve got—
HOTEL CLERK: I’m afraid you don’t understand, sir. These old pounds of yours are worthless now. It takes 10 million of them to make one Brand New Pound.
SALT: Are you trying to be funny? [MRS SALT swoons, he catches her.] Can’t you do something to help us out?
HOTEL CLERK: The best I can do is help you out into the street, sir. [Brings luggage downstage.] We’ve all got our own problems now—
EXIT HOTEL CLERK. Thunder.
MRS SALT: [Reviving.] What happened? [Music up for Salt’s Prayer.]
SALT: Everything will be all right—
MRS SALT: I’m so cold Adam—what are we going to do?
SALT: I’ll hold you—try to go to sleep—
SALT’S PRAYER
My God
My God
Oh my God
Help me understand
Why this wild tempest
Sweeps us off our feet
Are we no more than chaff to you?
My God
My God
My Dear God
Hear me calling you
Across this dark and frozen wasteland
Are we nought but grains of sand to you?
My God
My God
My sweet Lord
See me bending here
In humble supplication
Asking you to please deliver us from death
ENTER VAKS in underwear.
VAK: Salt!
SALT: Vak!
SALTS & VAKS: Where have you been? What’s happening? Good to see you, etc.
SALT: You’re the answer to our prayers, Vak! Paper money is worthless it seems; so if you could lend us a few of those gold sovereigns—
MRS VAK: Can’t you see we’re nearly naked?
VAK: We’ve been picked clean! Right after we left you we were mugged by a gang of high school teachers. The only thing I’ve got left is—this!
VAK takes switchblade knife from his sock. MRS VAK begins stripping MRS SALT and getting into her clothes.
MRS SALT: What are you doing?
MRS VAK: Survival of the fittest, ducky.
VAK: It’s dog-eat-dog, Salt—so strip off! [Finds coin in SALT’s trousers.] You’ve still got that sovereign I gave you!
SALT: There’s no need for that knife. We’re willing to cooperate with old friends—
VAK: Old friends! Only this morning you were calling me Hitler! And now here you are asking us for cash when you had this nest egg of mine tucked away in your pocket—
SALT: I’d forgotten all about that sovereign; but you’re certainly welcome to share it with us—
MRS VAK: Sharing’s not good enough any more.
VAK: This is the College of Life, remember, Salt? Well, now I’m giving you some advice: get yourself a weapon. A broken bottle or a rock or a sharp stick will do. We’re living in the jungle now.
CHEK puts up sign: ‘PARLIAMENT DISSOLVED. MONARCHY TO GOVERN. DOLLAR FALLS.’
MRS VAK: [Rummaging through luggage.] Trev! Look at this!
VAK: What is it?
MRS VAK: A packet of biscuits!
VAK: My God, food!
MRS VAK: It hasn’t even been opened!
VAK: Raspberry creme! My favorite flavor!
ENTER WRITER wearing rags, brandishing a pointed stick.
WRITER: What have you got there? Is it food? It is food, isn’t it! [Menaces VAK with stick, VAK reciprocates with knife.] I don’t want it all—just enough for my family—I’m a writer—it’s never been easy to feed them—but now it’s getting desperate—[Makes grab for biscuits. VAK stabs him in gut. WRITER clutches belly, finds blood on his hands, slowly sinks to ground.] This is all so—silly—so stupid—
ENTER 2 MEN and a WOMAN, all wearing rags.
1ST MAN: I’ll give you a thousand Brand New Pounds for that package of biscuits, young man.
VAK: You mean for one biscuit, don’t you?
1ST MAN: Whatever you say!
2ND MAN: Don’t let him swindle you, lad. His money’s out of date. I’ve got Exceptionally Very Brand New Pounds. Right from the government printing press. You can smell how fresh they are!
WOMAN: None of that paper is any good! See what I’ve got? Diamonds!
VAK: Bugger off! This knife’s worth more than diamonds now!
VAK menaces other characters with knife as he and MRS VAK EXIT with Salts’ luggage.
WOMAN: [Calling.] You’ll rot in hell, you sonsofbitches!
2ND MAN: Well, what are we going to do now?
1ST MAN: I know what I’m going to do! [Takes stick from dying WRITER.] I want those Exceptionally Very Brand New Pounds—and those diamonds!
WOMAN: [Picks up brick or stone.] I’ll smash your fucking skull in first!
WRITER: Could someone please—call a doctor? I think I really am dying—
2ND MAN: You can’t get both of us with one stick!
SALT: Have we all gone crazy—talking about starvation while we’re still digesting our suppers!
WOMAN: Are we supposed to wait until we’re actually starving?
SALT: There’s no need to panic—
CHEK puts up sign: ‘RICE RIOTS SWEEP TOKYO, CALCUTTA, PEKING.’
1ST MAN: The handwriting is on the wall.
2ND MAN: Everything is collapsing.
SALT: 5,000 years of civilization can’t be swept away in one night!
WOMAN: Why not!
WRITER: Help me—please—
1ST MAN grabs diamonds from WOMAN, escapes through audience with WOMAN and 2ND MAN in pursuit.
SALT: [Calling.] God, won’t let it happen. He won’t permit everything to just fall apart like this!
WRITER: [Examining his guts.] How—complex everything is—how precarious—one little cut and your insides come—tumbling out. [Pitches over.]
MRS SALT: Adam! He’s dead!
SALT: He was a fool—they’re all fools! What are you doing?
MRS SALT: [Removing WRITER’s clothes.] I’m cold and he won’t need these anymore!
SALT: They’re dripping with his blood!
MRS SALT: Don’t just stand there sermonizing! Help me get his trousers off—
SALT: This is a total nightmare!!
CHEK puts up sign: ‘TRADE UNIONS SEIZE POWER. ARMY SHELLS BUCKINGHAM PALACE.’
MRS SALT: Here, put these on—there’s a cold wind blowing—
Howling of wind is heard as MRS SALT offers Writer’s trousers to SALT.
SALT: [Numbly allowing MRS SALT to dress him.] Is it the wind—or some creature howling out there in the void? The wailing of a maniac—the universe losing its mind—
Howling increases. ENTER KOP through audience followed by ENTOURAGE. He wears impressive black uniform with cape.
KOP: Salt? Is that you? I’m coming, Salt! I am coming! [Leaps onto stage.]
CHEK puts up sign: ‘KOP BECOMES PRIME MINISTER. MARTIAL LAW IMPOSED.’
KOP: The moment we’ve been waiting for has arrived. The dam has burst! The government is in our hands! Our rendezvous with destiny approaches us like a runaway locomotive! I want you with me, Salt. I need you! [Drapes cape over SALT’s shoulders.] Look! The sun is rising. A new day is dawning. We have passed through the long night. A phoenix rises from the ashes. A new Moses comes down from the mountain!
KOP takes SALT with him as he leads ENTOURAGE out through audience to music of ‘The Naked Truth March.’
KOP: Come! Let us see if the waters will part for us—or whether we can walk our way across the Red Sea!
CHEK puts up sign: ‘END ACT ONE. 10 MINUTE INTERMISSION,’ then draws curtains closed.
* * *
During intermission following items might be broadcast over theater’s public address system:
MALE NEWSREADER: In an interview at 10 Downing St. this morning, Prime Minister Kop announced the appointment of Mr Adam Salt to the newly created post of Minister for National Resources. Mr Salt will be responsible for the distribution of all food supplies. The Prime Minister stressed that the food supply is the nation’s number one priority and expressed the utmost confidence in Mr Salt to set right the temporary imbalance in the supply of and demand for foodstuffs. Prime Minister Kop emphasized that although he attaches great importance to the food supply problem, it should be appreciated by the public that it is only that; namely, a problem. Having recognized it for what it is, we are already well on the way to solving it. And, being well on the way to solving it, it ceases to be a problem, in the very real sense of the word. "It isn’t the problem itself that’s the real problem" said the Prime Minister, "it is the problems arising when people think of a problem as being a problem. That" he said, "is the real problem we have to deal with. And, of course, knowing that that is the real problem means, in reality, we haven’t got any problems at all!"
FEMALE NEWSREADER: Mr Adam Salt, the new Minister for National Resources and the man responsible for solving the food shortage "situation," is one of the nation’s foremost experts on synthetics. Mr Salt was part of the team at Krap Petrochemical responsible for inventing the artificial sweetener "Synsugar." When it was subsequently found that "Synsugar" was causing artificial diabetes, it was Mr Salt and this same team who came to the rescue with imitation insulin; the first artificial cure for a synthetic disease. I’m sorry—that should read: the first synthetic cure for an artificial disease. When asked if synthetics might be the answer to our food problem, Mr Salt answered, "We haven’t got a food problem." He described the present food shortage "situation" as "Merely a temporary disequilibrium in the logistical flow apparatus." Or, more simply put—"The food is in one place while the people are in another."
MALE NEWSREADER: Meanwhile in East Kent vigilante committees have been organized to protect backyard gardens after several cases of crop poaching had been reported. In the village of Stelling Minnis, a retired postman was found impaled on his own pitchfork and his entire crop of Brussels sprouts picked clean. In Cambridgeshire, farmers have been authorized by the County Council to shoot on sight gangs of marauding college students who have been rustling livestock—
FEMALE NEWSREADER: The Government has announced that under provisions of the Emergency Powers Act looters will be summarily executed. Similar measures are to go into effect against black marketeers—
MALE NEWSREADER: A Scotland Yard raid on a Harley Street clinic this morning resulted in the arrest of nine young men and a former Member of Parliament on charges of submitting to sex deviate operations. They were taken to Bow Street jail but later transferred to the Woman’s Prison at Holloway.
FEMALE NEWSREADER: Shortly before midnight Parliament enacted the latest Currency Reform Bill which will go into effect—7 minutes from now. The new basic unit of currency will be known as the "Solid Pound." Each Solid Pound will be comprised of 17 "Standard Shillings," and in each Standard Shilling there will be 23 "Sturdy Pence." The new Solid Pound will be equivalent to 753,000 Extremely Very Brand New Pounds—the last currency to circulate legally. Asked to comment on the fact that the Solid Pound has the rather odd number of 391 Sturdy Pence in it, a Treasury spokesman said—
TREASURY SPOKESMAN: It’s really quite simple. Under the provisions of the new Income Tax Reform Act, which went into effect at 9:42 this morning, 209 Sturdy Pence of each Solid Pound has already been withheld at the mint as an income tax impound. In actual fact, the Solid Pound consists of 600 pretax Sturdy Pence. With the tax removed you get 391. Or, expressed in terms the average housewife can understand: each Standard Shilling consists of 35 and 5/17 taxfree Sturdy Pence. And, to make it all even simpler, a small plastic calculating device is being sent to every household in the U.K. which will instantly convert anything into anything else—
MALE NEWSREADER: From Copenhagen comes a report of an alliance between the socalled "Peace and Sexual Freedom League" and the Council of Nordic Nation States. A statement has been issued by the Alliance condemning what it calls: "The unconstitutional assumption of power by Prime Minister Kop and his infamous Law and Order Party." The Alliance is calling on the socalled "ambivalent" nations of the world to rally forces now against what it describes as, "This new AngloSaxon threat to the traditional values of AfroSinoNordic enlightenment." The Alliance claims that thousands of British sex deviates have been flooding into Scandinavia bringing stories of police dragnets and concentration camps. Prime Minister Kop has answered the ‘Copenhagen Declaration" by calling the Alliance, "A snake pit of deviationist vipers ready to strike at the very breast of British sexuality and the jugular vein of JudeoChristian legalism."
FEMALE NEWSREADER: The War Ministry has announces the mobilization of all reserves and reactivation of the Home Guard—
MALE NEWSREADER: The Propaganda Ministry disclosed this afternoon that a new British flag will be unfurled later in the week. The new flag, designed by Supremo Kop himself, will show, in symbolic terms, the twin ideals of sexual differentiation and legality. This will consist of Adam and Eve figures with their genitalia cunningly concealed by small stone tablets containing the Ten Commandments. The otherwise nude couple will be standing triumphant on a severed serpent labeled "Crime and Deviation."
FEMALE NEWSREADER: Attention! Attention! The intermission is ending. Return to your seats! Return to your seats!
End Act One