by David Mamet
(Pause.)
We would come up here . . .
(Pause.)
I have to tell you we would come up here as children.
(Pause.) Although some things would happen.
RUTH: Yes. Yes.
NICK: But they were alright.
RUTH (to self): In the end.
(Pause.)
NICK: Although we were frightened.
RUTH: Yes.
NICK: And many times we'd come up with a friend. With friends. W e ‘ d ask them here. (Pause.) Because we wanted to be with them. (Pause.) Because . . . (Pause.) Wait. Because we loved them.
RUTH: I know.
(Pause.)
NICK: Oh, my God. (Pause. He starts to cry.)
I love you, Ruth.
(Pause.)
RUTH: No.
NICK: I do, I love you, Ruth.
(Pause.)
RUTH: Thank you.
(Pause.)
NICK: I love you.
RUTH: No.
NICK: Yes. (Pause.)
Oh, God, I'm tired.
RUTH: I know.
NICK: Can you stay with me?
RUTH: Come here.
Shhhh.
NICK: Can you stay with me?
RUTH: It's going to be alright.
NICK: Please talk to me.
RUTH: It's going to be alright.
NICK (pause): Will you talk to me?
RUTH: What shall I say?
NICK: Just talk to me.
I think I'm going to go to sleep.
RUTH: You go to sleep now.
NICK: Yes. I have to hear your voice.
RUTH: Alright.
NICK: I am so sleepy.
RUTH: Shhhh. (Pause.)
Shhhh.
There were two children . . .
Go to sleep. It's alright.
Go to sleep now.
They went for a walk.
Into the Forest. (Pause.)
Their Granma told them not to go too far.
Or else they might get lost.
For you must all be careful when you go into the woods.
And they went in.
It started to get dark.
He said he thought that they had lost their way.
NICK: Are you alright?
RUTH: Yes.
NICK: Are you cold?
RUTH: No.
They lay down.
(Pause.)
He put his arms around her.
(Pause.)
They lay down in the Forest and they put their arms around each other.
In the dark. And fell asleep.
(Pause.)
NICK: Go on.
(Pause.)
RUTH: What?
NICK: Go on.
RUTH (to self): Go on . . .
NICK: Yes.
(Pause.)
RUTH: The next day . . .
(The lights fade.)
LAKEBOAT
This Play is Dedicated
to John Dillon
and to Larry Shue.
Lakeboat was first staged by the Theatre Workshop at Marlboro College, Marlboro, Vermont, in 1970. It then sat in my trunk until John Dillon, Artistic Director of the Milwaukee Rep, discovered it in 1979.
John worked with me on the script, paring, arranging, and buttressing; and its present form is, in large part, thanks to him. I would also like to thank him and the men and women of the Milwaukee Rep—actors, designers, and crew—for their beautiful production of the play.
Lakeboat was first produced by the Court Street Theater, a project of the Milwaukee Repertory Theater, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, April 24, 1980, with the following cast:
PIERMAN Gregory Leach
DALE Thomas Hewitt
FIREMAN Paul Meacham
STAN Eugene J. Anthony
JOE Larry Shue
COLLINS John P. Connolly
SKIPPY Robert Clites
FRED Victor Raider-Wexler
This production was directed by John Dillon; settings by Laura Maurer; lighting by Rachel Budin, costumes by Colleen Muscha; properties by Sandy Struth; stage manager, Marcia Orbison.
Scenes:
1.
What Do You Do with a Drunken Sailor?
2.
Opening
3.
Drink
4.
Offloading
5.
Fire and Evacuation Drills
6.
The Illusion of Motion
7.
The New Man
8.
Woploving
9.
Gauges
10.
No Pussy
11.
Mugged
12.
Fred Busted at the Track
13.
Fred on Horseracing
14.
Personal Sidearms
15.
The Cook Story
16.
Sidearms Continued
17.
Jonnie Fast
18.
The Inland Sea around Us
19.
Arcana
20.
Dolomite
21.
The Bridge
22.
Fast Examined
23.
The 38
24.
Subterfuge
25.
Fingers
26.
Joe's Suicide
27.
Collins and Skippy on the Bridge
28.
In the Galley
Characters:
PIERMAN
30s or 40s.
DALE
Ordinary Seaman. 20.
FIREMAN
Engine. 60s.
STAN
Able-Bodied Seaman. Deck. 40s.
JOE
Able-Bodied Seaman. Deck. 40 or 50s.
COLLINS
Second Mate. 30s or 40s.
SKIPPY
First Mate. Late 50s.
FRED
Able-Bodied Seaman. Deck. 30s or 40s.
Setting:
The Lakeboat T. Harrison. The engine room, the galley, the fantail (the farthest aft part of the ship), the boat deck, the rail.
The set, I think, should be a construction of a Lakeboat, so that all playing areas can be seen at once, no scenery needs to be shifted, and the actors can simply walk from one area to the next as their scenes require.
Scene 1
What Do You Do with a Drunken Sailor?
The Lakeboat is being offloaded. DALE talks with the PIERMAN, who is supervising the offloading.
PIERMAN: Did you hear about Skippy and the new kid?
DALE: What new kid?
PIERMAN: Night cook. Whatsisname that got mugged?
DALE: No. What happened?
PIERMAN: Well, you know, this new kid is on the beach . . .
DALE: Yeah. . . .
PIERMAN: And, how it happened, he's in East Chicago after the last pay draw . . .
DALE: Yeah. . . .
PIERMAN: . . . last week and drawed all he could and he's making the bars with a C or so in his pocket and flashing the wad every chance he gets. . . .
DALE: Oh boy.
PIERMAN: What does the kid know? What do they know at that age, no offense.
DALE: Yeah.
PIERMAN: And, as I understand it, this slut comes on to him, and they leave the bar and he gets rolled.
DALE: By the whore?
PIERMAN: Yeah, I mean he'd had a few . . .
DALE: The bitch.
PIERMAN: . . . and wasn't in any shape. Anyway she takes his wad and his Z card.
DALE: Not his Z card?
PIERMAN: Yep and his gate pass. . . .
DALE: And he didn't even get laid . . . did he?
PIERMAN: Fuck no, she rolled him first. Then she left.
DALE: Bitch.
PIERMAN: So, he stumbles back to the gate, drunk and sobbing. . . .
; DALE: Nothing to be ashamed of. . . .
PIERMAN: The guards won't let him in! I mean he's bleeding, he's dirty. . . .
DALE: You didn't tell me he was bleeding.
PIERMAN: It was understood . . . .
DALE: So, go on.
PIERMAN: And dirty, and no identification. So, of course, they won't let him in.
DALE: Bastards.
PIERMAN: Yeah, well, they're just doing their job.
DALE: I suppose you're right.
PIERMAN: Pretty nice guys, actually.
DALE: I suppose.
PIERMAN: And so . . . where was I?
DALE: The part where they won't let him in.
PIERMAN: And so the guards won't let him in. But, uh . . . whatsisname, guy about thirty, so, you know him?
DALE: I ‘m new.
PIERMAN: Well, whatsisname happens to be coming through and of course he recognizes . . . whatsisname.
DALE: Yeah.
PIERMAN: So, “What happened? Are you alright?” . . . all that shit. And the guard explains to him how they can't let the guy through and the guy vouches right up for him.
DALE: He's a good man, huh?
PIERMAN: And they still won't let him through.
DALE: Yeah.
PIERMAN: So, how he got in . . .
DALE: Yeah.
PIERMAN: He waited until these guards are looking the other way . . .
DALE: Yeah.
PIERMAN: . . . at a secretary or a train, I don't know.
And they walked right through the main gate.
DALE: Bunch of assholes, huh?
PIERMAN: Well, I don't know . . .. So, what happened with Skippy . . . you know Skippy?
DALE: No.
PIERMAN: The First Mate.
(Pause.)
DALE: Oh yeah.
PIERMAN: So what happened with him is this: The poor slob gets back to the fucking boat—drunk and bleeding and broke, right?
DALE: Poor sonofabitch.
PIERMAN: He gets to the gangway and the second is on deck supervising offloading.
DALE: Right.
PIERMAN: Talking on the box with Skippy, the First Mate, who is up in the bridge. Now, Skippy sees this poor thing tromping up the pier and he says to Collins, the Second, “Collins, we got passengers this trip,” which they did, “Get that man below and tell him to stay there until he's sober.”
DALE: Huh.
PIERMAN: Although he is a hell of a nice guy, Skippy.
Oldest First Mate on the Lakes. Did you know that?
DALE: No.
PIERMAN: Was a Master once. I don't know who for. That's why they call him Skippy.
DALE: How do you know that?
PIERMAN: I heard it. I don't actually know it. But that's why they call him Skippy. And so, anyway, Collins collars the slob and tells him to get below. “Who says so?” the guy says. “ The First says so,” Collins says. Guigliani, Guilini, something like that.
DALE: What?
PIERMAN: The guy's name. So anyway. Guigliani, whatsisname, says, “Tell the First to go fuck himself.”
DALE: Oh, Christ.
PIERMAN: So, as God would have it, at that precise moment the box rings and it's Skippy wanting to talk to Collins. “Collins,” he says, “What's holding up the Number Three Hold?” “I'm talking to Guliami,” says Collins. “What the all-fired fuck does he have to say that is so important?” says Skippy. “He's telling me I should tell you to go fuck yourself. . . .” says Collins. So Skippy, who bandied enough words at this point, says, “Collins, throw that man in the canal and get Three Hold the fuck offloaded,” which I was working on, too, at that point.
DALE: So?
PIERMAN: So what?
DALE: So did he throw him in the canal?
PIERMAN: I don't know, I was below. I heard this.
(Pause.)
DALE: And where is the guy now?
PIERMAN: What am I, a mindreader? On the beach somewhere, lost his job. Up in East Chicago, I guess.
DALE: Poor sonofabitch.
PIERMAN: Oh, I don't know.
(The PIERMAN goes on board the boat.)
Scene 2
Opening
DALE talks to the audience. STAN is on the boat. The FIREMAN comes up the gangplank, followed by JOE.
DALE (to audience): That's the Lakeboat. Built 1938 for Czerwiecki Steel. Christened Joseph Czerwiecki. Sold to Harrison Steel, East Chicago, Indiana, 1954, renamed T. Harrison. Length overall 615 feet. Depth 321 feet. Keel 586 feet. Beam 60. The floating home of 45 men.
FIREMAN: Guigliani got mugged.
DALE: I ‘m his replacement. Gross tons 8,225. Capacity in tons 11,406. A fair-sized boat. A small world . . .
FIREMAN: So I've heard.
(JOE comes on board.)
STAN: Yo, Joe.
JOE: Hiya.
DALE: . . . T. Harrison. A steel bulk-freight turbine steamer registered in the Iron Ore Trade.
STAN: You pick up those razor blades?
JOE: Shit. I fucking forgot, I'm sorry.
Scene 3
Drink
A conversation on the fantail. STAN and JOE are killing time while the boat is at the pier.
STAN: Boy was I drunk last night.
JOE: I'm still drunk.
STAN: That wine. Drink wine and it dehydrates you. When you drink water the next morning it activates the alcohol.
JOE: I'm so hung over I can't see.
STAN: Can't see, I can't even talk.
JOE: I can't even fucking think straight.
STAN: You couldn't think straight last night.
JOE: I was drunk last night.
STAN: You're still drunk.
JOE: Yep.
STAN: No good, man.
JOE: Yep.
STAN: No damn good.
JOE: Sure not.
STAN: No fucking good.
JOE: What? . . . Drinking?
STAN: Drinking, life, women, the Boat. No good.
JOE: It's not that bad.
STAN: No fuckin’ good.
JOE: You been drinking?
STAN: Drinking? Don't talk to me about drinking. What the hell did it ever get me? Drinking? I was drinking before you were wiping your own ass. Beer? I've drunk more beer in my time than I can remember. I could tick off my life in beer caps. Bottles, cans, pop-tops, screw-tops, bottles . . . every man on the ship had his own opener.
JOE: I remember.
STAN: Around the neck. Holy Mary. Don't tell me about beer, Joe. Please don't tell me about beer. Domestic and imported. Beer? I've drunk beer. . . . Wine!
JOE: Ah, wine.
STAN: Used to drink it with every meal. White, cherry. Love the stuff. You need a taste for wine.
JOE: I've got one.
STAN: Domestic and imported.
JOE: I love the stuff.
STAN: Red and white. I've drunk it. Wine with my food, cigarettes smoldering and chilled wine. Wine with fruit. Warmed, spice wine. Sweet cherry wine. I know wine, Joe.
JOE: What about liquors?
STAN: What about them?
JOE: Yeah.
STAN: For faggots. But booze . . .
JOE: Booze!
STAN: Scotch and rye. Drink bourbon by the fifth. When I lived at home? Drink? My father could drink.
JOE: My father could, too.
STAN: I say that man could put it away. A fifth a day and more, Joe, and more.
JOE: My father, too.
STAN: He loved the stuff.
JOE: It killed him, my father.
STAN: Drink it by the fifth. He never lacked for booze, that man. That's one thing I can say for him.
JOE: Yeah.
STAN: Nothing too good for him.
JOE: Yeah.
STAN: The old fart'd drink Sterno. He didn't give a shit.
JOE: I know.
STAN: That man could drink.
JOE: What about your mother?
STAN: She could drink, too.
JOE: My mothe
r couldn't drink.
STAN: No?
JOE: Old man said it was bad for her.
STAN: What do they know of booze, the cunts?
JOE: Nothing.
STAN: They can't drink. You ever know a woman who could drink?
JOE: Yeah.
STAN: What do they know?
JOE: A girl in Duluth.
STAN: They don't understand it. It's a man's thing, drinking. A curse and an elevation. Makes you an angel. A booze-ridden angel. Drinking? I know my alcohol, boyo. I know it and you know I know it. And I know it.
JOE: I'll take you below. I gotta go on watch.
STAN: Domestic and imported.
JOE: Come on, Stan.
STAN: Any way you call it.
JOE: I gotta go on watch.
STAN: Mixed drinks? I know my mixed drinks. You name one, I know it. Mixed drinks.
JOE: . . . Manhattan.
STAN: I know it.
JOE: Come on, Stan.
STAN: Ah, leave me alone.
JOE: Come on, I gotta go on watch.
STAN: So go on watch, you fucking Polack.
JOE: Who's a Polack?
STAN: Trust a Polack . . . to go on watch . . . when I'm pissed.
JOE: I'll take you down to the dunnage room and get you some coffee.
STAN: Don't want any coffee. Want to go to sleep.
JOE: Well, let's go, then.
STAN: I want to sleep by myself.
JOE: Okay, Stan, let's get you off your feet.
STAN: Offa deck.
JOE: Sure.
STAN: And who are you to tell me to get off the deck of a ship we both happen to be on?
JOE: Come on, goddamnit.
STAN: Getting mad, huh?
JOE: Stosh.
STAN: Getting a trifle warm. Aren't you getting warm?
JOE: Okay, Stan.
STAN: Fucking no-class Polack.
JOE: Okay, Stan.
STAN: Can't even hold your liquor.
(JOE walks off.)
Scene 4
Offloading
JOE wanders into the galley. COLLINS finds him there and puts him to work.
COLLINS: Litko!
JOE: Yo!
