Rabe - Goose and Tomtom

Goose and Tomtom

OTHER PLAYS BY DAVID RABE

The Basic Training of Pavlo Hummel
Sticks and Bones
The Orphan
In the Boom Boom Room
Streamers
Hurlyburly

A Play by DAVID RABE

GROVE PRESS/New York

Copyright 1986 by Ralako Corp.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means, including mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission of the publisher.

CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that GOOSE AND TOMTOM, being fully protected under the Copyright Laws of the United States of America, the British Commonwealth, including the Dominion of Canada, and all other countries of the Berne and Universal Copyright Conventions, is subject to royalty. All rights, including professional, amateur, recording, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio and television broadcasting, and the rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved, permission for which must be secured in writing from the authors agent: Ellen Neuwald, Inc., 905 West End Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10025. Particular emphasis is laid on the question of readings.

Published by Grove Press, Inc.
920 Broadway
New York, N.Y. 10010

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Rabe, David.

Goose and Tomtom.

I. Title.

PS3568.A23G6 1987 812.54 86-29432
eISBN-13: 978-0-8021-9694-1

Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition 1987

For JASON and BLUBY

A man weary of trying to understand his life went into the forest to rest and think, and after walking for a while, he sat beneath a tree in the shade. How quiet, he thought. This is such a lovely place. It would be so nice to live here. I wish I had a house in this place.

Because the man had no idea that the tree under which he had seated himself was the Wishing Tree, he was amazed when a grand and spacious house rose up around him. What a beautiful house, he thought. What a perfect house I have. How happy I would be if only I was not alone. I wish I had a wonderful woman to be my companion. The woman who sat beside him was loving and tender and beautiful. The man embraced her, and, loving her, he longed to treat her well. I wish we had something to eat, he thought. The arrival of servants with food was instantaneous, the food varied and delectable and still steaming.

Yet as the man ate, he began to worry. When I first came here, he thought, none of this was here. No house, no woman to love me, no food. What is this place? Is this an evil place? Is there a demon here? And of course the demon was fierce and horrible, scorched and wild, standing in front of the man, shrieking at him. Oh, hes going to eat me, thought the man.

And the demon ate him.

A tale told by Muktananda

Not only is the Universe stranger than we think, it is stranger than we can think.

Werner Heisenberg

Id rather be a lamppost in Denver than the mayor of Philadelphia.

Sonny Liston

CHARACTERS

TomtomLulu

GooseBingo

LorraineMen

TIME: This was recently.

PLACE: An apartment in the underworld.

The interior of what appears to be a small apartment. Stage right is a tiny kitchen, with a table, some cabinets. Center stage and stage left is a living room, with a couch, armchair, and hassock, all of cheap construction and design. The floor is partly covered with a rug. In the wall of the living room is a doorway to the bedroom, covered by curtains. The bedroom doorway must be prominently placed so that all entrances and exits are instantly visible, and someone merely standing in the doorway would have a powerful stage position. Somewhere along the stage left wall, or perhaps in a tiny little cubbyhole downstage at the farthest point of the stage left area, is a desk and chair on wheels. There are maps and notes, maybe a globe. There are crates piled near the desk. There are crates piled in other areas about the stage, wherever there is an empty upstage spot. The wallpaper is tattered, the cracks of the concrete cinder blocks behind the wall and wallpaper showing through in places. The front door is in the kitchen, and there are many locks on it. Perhaps there is a mirror at the desk, some toilet articles and travel cases. In the kitchen is a window, the blind drawn fully down. Suitcases and crates are piled about in the upstage left corner, and in the desk area, if it is separate from the kitchen area. It might be best to have the desk in a corner of the kitchen and the office chair on wheels located at the kitchen table, enabling Tomtom to scoot back and forth between the kitchen table and the desk. Coats and hats hang on a coat tree by the door or on hooks on the wall there.

Lights up. Tomtom lies on the couch, sleeping. He twists suddenly, struggles, groans, and yelps, sitting up. He is a large man, in his forties. He pulls a pistol from a shoulder holster and leaps to his feet, looking warily around. He hurries to the bedroom door and, flattening himself against the wall, is about to slip into the bedroom when he hears a position himself behind the door, it opens. In comes Goose, younger, slighter, carrying a newspaper. He looks around, sees no one.

Goose: Hey.

Tomtom: Hey! (Kicking shut the door, he jams the gun in Gooses face.) How you? Ats what I been waitin for. I been onna edge a my chair.

Goose: So Im here. (They hug, pat each other down, Tomtoms hug evolving into an arm around Gooses neck, a knuckle on the top of Gooses head.)

Tomtom: Yeh. Ats good. Its good. How you doin? You want some coffee?

Goose: You got some coffee?

Tomtom: I could make some. (He flicks on the switch of a hot plate on which a teakettle sits.)

Goose: Ats what I like about you.

Tomtom: What?

Goose: You know.

Tomtom (threatening to clip Goose): You could tell me.

Goose: I dont wanna.

Tomtom (threatening to clip Goose): Ats okay.

Goose: Ats what I like about you.

Tomtom (patting Goose on the cheek): So how you doin? (Tomtom goes to the mirror for cologne, Binaca, Goose following along.)

Goose: Hey, terrific. Terrific. Im doin terrific. I come by. Youre here. I was in the neighborhood. I come up the stairs. The doors open. I dont even knock. It aint locked. I come in. Im hopin maybe Ill come in on you, and you an Lorrainell be onna floor fuckin. I can watch. It aint goin on, though. Youre just here. So we start talkin. Youre sittin there. Im standin over here. Were talkin. I feel good. You ask me how Im doin, I tell you fine. Im doin fine. How you doin?

Tomtom: Hey. Youre lookin at me. How do I look? (Crossing to sit down in the armchair, he grabs Gooses newspaper.)

Goose: Ats what I mean. You got an opinion about dreams? I had this fuckin dream.

Tomtom: Sure I got an opinion.

Goose: What is it?

Tomtom: You really wanna know?

Goose: Im askin.

Tomtom: Theyre a buncha shit.

Goose: You think so?

Tomtom: Its clear as day.

Goose: A buncha shit.

Tomtom: Thats what I said.