Beat.
SARAH
You like it that I’m Jewish—
RUDI
Yes, I do. And I love you.
Beat.
SARAH
My father didn’t want me to come here. He said, “Go to Paris, go to Jerusalem. Don’t spend my money in Germany, why give it to the Germans?” And now, I’m supposed to call him and say…?
RUDI
That’s the…? You don’t want to call your father?
SARAH
No, that’s not the only—
RUDI
I’ll sit here with you, I’ll dial—
RUDI picks up the phone.
SARAH
I can’t just… No! Don’t!
RUDI
Once you do it—
SARAH
Just…! Don’t!
Beat. RUDI puts the phone down.
My mother did this to him, she left him, and now I call and tell him… I’m…? Marrying a fucking German?
RUDI
Well, I wouldn’t say it like that.
SARAH
How should I say it then?
Beat.
RUDI
Your mother… left him?
SARAH
No, she…!
Beat.
(hard) She slit her wrists, in our bathtub, in our apartment in New York. So yes, she left.
Beat.
(hard) She was… depressed.
Beat.
(hard) He found her.
Beat.
There were flies in the cupboard, in our apartment. A fly infestation one winter, maggots in all the boxes of food, but she wouldn’t throw any of it out. She made me eat a bowl of cereal from the cupboard that had maggots in it. And I’ll be like that, as a mother—
RUDI
Sarah—
SARAH
— I’ll be crazy, and God only knows what you’ll be like, as a father. You’ll—I don’t know—deport it, because it’s not blond, or because it’s crippled, or you’ll realize you hate it or—
RUDI
(to stop her talking) Sarah…!
SARAH
—we’ll be terrible, awful—
RUDI
Sarah.
RUDI holds her.
Sarah.
Beat.
In that shitty hotel, with the… wallpaper on the ceiling—I lay there and because of… this, I couldn’t sleep, so I just sketched you, for hours. I traced your hands, I kept stopping—I thought the sound of the pencil was waking you up—
SARAH
(low) —we won’t even be able to get married in shul, some civil servant will have to—
RUDI
You have very long fingers, very pale ones, with little nails on them, and the veins in your wrists are very blue.
Beat.
You love me.
Beat.
SARAH
Give me the phone.
RUDI goes and gets the phone. He hands it to SARAH, who dials. Transition.
RUDI
Sarah’s father… didn’t like it. (RUDI laughs) He didn’t want us to come home, to New York , for the wedding; he didn’t want to have anything to do with it. But, in the end, he travelled to West Berlin a week before the ceremony with two of Sarah’s aunts.
Beat.
He spent most of his time, in West Berlin, in the hotel room, refusing to go out, refusing to speak to Sarah. It was painful for her, to have them all ashamed of her like that, so she would come to my apartment during the days and leave them at the hotel by themselves.
Beat.
And of course I was still… struggling with… I didn’t want to upset Sarah, so I still hadn’t told her about my father. I’d had to lie a little more. Because of the wedding plans, I’d told Sarah that my ODESSA money was insurance from my parents’ car accident, that I wasn’t close with my family, I didn’t keep in touch with any of them, they all lived in Strasbourg, that sort of thing.
Beat.
We’d arranged for a quick 7 a.m. civil ceremony, barely anyone attending. Sarah didn’t like it. She wanted there to be someone there, on the groom’s side.
Beat.
As it turns out…
Beat.
The ceremony was only two days away—Sarah’s veil was pinned to the back of one of the armchairs in her hotel room to keep it from creasing—when Hermann arrived at my apartment.
Transition. HERMANN and SARAH are standing together in RUDI’s Berlin apartment. HERMANN and SARAH are both smoking and drinking whisky. RUDI has just walked in. They all stare at each other for a moment.
HERMANN
You’ve—you’re—of course, you’ve broadened—you were young, and now you’re…
RUDI
Hermann?
Beat.
You’re—Hermann, you’re here, you’re… in Germany. You’re—you’ve met Sarah? (to SARAH) Sarah, this is… Hermann. He’s a childhood friend, an old…
RUDI looks at SARAH. He stops talking.
HERMANN
Sarah’s been sitting here with me. She let me in, to your apartment, we’ve been drinking your whisky.
Beat.
I’ve been—yes—touring in Europe, aimlessly… touring, endless train stations, and cheap—so I thought I’d come to West Berlin. I hoped I might see you, it’s been, what? Six, seven years since you… since we’ve seen each other.
SARAH exits, suddenly.
RUDI
(calling as she leaves) Sarah…!
The door slams in RUDI’s face.
HERMANN
Yes, I thought that might happen. She was holding herself together quite well, for about a quarter of an hour, there, but when you came in…
Beat.
Poor thing.
Beat.
She seemed to think your father was dead, among other things. She didn’t seem to know that you grew up in Paraguay. I slipped something about that, I said I was an old friend from Paraguay, and that seemed to confuse her, and then it got a little… awkward. I knew you’d changed your name, to Otto Henrick, isn’t that right?
RUDI
I—yes.
HERMANN
But I didn’t know you’d killed off your father.
Beat.
Your father is very well, in fact. He’s still there, in the old neighbourhood. A few of them have switched countries, but not your father, he’s still there. Mine isn’t.
RUDI
Where is he?
HERMANN
Died in a car accident.
Beat.
Caught pneumonia, then broke his hip falling out of bed at the hospital, then went into a coma. He wanted to be buried here, in Germany. That’s what was in his will, “Bury my remains in Berlin.” I scattered his ashes in our swimming pool, before I left.
Beat.
Sarah. Not a lot of Sarahs in Berlin. Not a lot of… You’ve moved on from—to Jews, I take it. Well, your father would be…! But I suppose he doesn’t know?
Beat.
She seemed very nice. I would say congratulations, but…
Beat.
If she forgives you, I’ll rent a suit.
Beat.
I like it here, in Germany, I see why you stay. It seems right, to wait it out here, with all the other old… remnants of the war.
HERMANN puts his arms around RUDI and holds him.
Have you missed… Paraguay?
Beat.
No? Not happy to see me?
Beat.
Yes, that’s… how I looked when you
left.
Transition. HERMANN is gone.
RUDI
I went to Sarah’s hotel. Sarah was there, in her room, by herself. She was… packing her suitcases.
RUDI turns as though he’s about to enter the scene, then turns back, regards the audience.
I’ve… never told you my name, have I? I’ve never told you my… name. I don’t like to… But, let me introduce myself.
Transition. RUDI and SARAH are in SARAH’s hotel room.
SARAH
Rudolf Klausener.
Beat.
Your father’s name is Rudolf Klausener, and that’s your name.
RUDI
(low) Yes.
SARAH
Rudolf.
RUDI
(nods) Rudi.
Beat.
SARAH
I’m leaving. I’m going back to New York. I’m going to leave with my father and go back to New York.
Beat.
RUDI
(low) What about the baby—
SARAH
(furious) Oh, the baby! Oh no, the baby! Oh God, what about the baby!?
RUDI
Sarah, sit down.
RUDI moves towards her. SARAH backs away.
Is there something that I can do to… convince you to… sit down. Sarah, please, listen, I love you—
SARAH
Oh you love me, and the baby, and please sit down!
Beat.
(calmer) He’s… in Paraguay, somewhere, and you know where. You know where he is.
RUDI nods, or gestures to suggests he does.
Beat.
I’m leaving. I’m leaving with my father—
RUDI
Sarah—
SARAH
If I go back now, I can—I know a doctor in New York who can fix it for me, I’m not even ten weeks.
Beat.
RUDI
That is—!
SARAH
(calm) What?
Beat.
RUDI
Sarah, please—
SARAH
You didn’t tell me, you… lied, you—
RUDI
No, I—
SARAH
You lied.
RUDI
No, I just didn’t tell you. Because, Sarah, listen, when I was young, in Paraguay, Sarah, my father didn’t tell me… about the camp, so when I met you, it was easy to just tell you what he’d told me.
SARAH
You’re telling me lies your father told you.
Beat.
Why are you… doing this? Why are you…?
RUDI
I’m not! I’m not—it’s not—!
SARAH
You told me he was dead.
RUDI
I have to say that because he’s in Paraguay! He’s a war criminal, hiding in Paraguay, I can’t just…!
Beat.
SARAH
You love him.
Beat.
You do, you—
RUDI
No!
SARAH
You’re—we talked about Eichmann together, the trial, we talked about—
RUDI
Sarah—
SARAH
And meanwhile—
RUDI
And—yes! And I’ll—
SARAH
Meanwhile, he’s in Paraguay.
RUDI
I’ll call the…! What if I call the…? What if I turn him in, like Eichmann. What if I… turn him in?
Beat.
(calmer) What if I… turn him in?
Beat.
Then, would you—
SARAH
I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Why would I?
Beat.
RUDI
(low) Sarah.
SARAH
If you turn him in, then… when he is standing trial, when he is… in Jerusalem, standing trial.
Beat.
RUDI
(low) And the… the baby, will you…?
Beat.
Just wait, I’ll—Sarah, I’ll… please. I’ll call you in New York, I’ll tell you what… happens. Just wait, please—wait a week, don’t…
Beat.
Sarah?
Beat.
Sarah?
Beat.
SARAH
I don’t know what to… Rudi?
Transition. SARAH is gone.
RUDI
Well, you’ve just about understood, now, haven’t you?
Beat.
I called the bureau, the Mossad, in Israel, I talked to a series of bureaucrats about extradition, told them what I knew, the house, the street, but it seems that extradition is a long process. (RUDI laughs.) I wouldn’t be able to… go back to Sarah for… well, years, possibly. So I have to…
Beat.
He’s a war criminal.
Beat.
And there isn’t much to stop me from… other than my own… He is my… father, so I do have some… I am sorry to say, but I do… have some…
RUDI takes a handgun out of his suitcase.
They found it, at customs, the customs official with Band-Aids on his hands. I paid him off. That’s Paraguay for you.
Beat.
Where’s my mother, I wonder? Upstairs, or… out?
Beat.
So… now I just have to go in there and… do it.
RUDI tries to light a cigarette. He can’t because his hands are shaking. He stops trying, throws the lighter and cigarette down.
These cigarettes aren’t helping.
Beat.
There is no other solution to this… problem, other than to…
Beat.
This is the only solution, isn’t it?
Beat.
And then I can go back to my… family.
Beat.
It’s unpleasant, but…
Beat.
You think I should do it, don’t you?
Beat.
You think I should do it?
Beat.
Yes?
Beat.
Yes.
RUDI goes to the door. He looks back at us one more time. He opens the door. In the doorway he pauses. Then holds the gun up to his head.
Blackout. End play.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My thanks are most of all due to Alisa Palmer. Her direction acted as dramaturgy and many of the play’s scenes and moments were born in rehearsal. I am deeply indebted to my dramaturges Joanna Falck, Andy McKim, and Richard Rose, whose comments and insights shaped the script. Camellia Koo’s beautiful design of East of Berlin influenced my writing decisions and should therefore be acknowledged here. I want to thank the actors who workshopped the first draft of the play: Matthew Edison, Brendan Gall, and Liisa Repo-Martell. I am very grateful to Paul Dunn, Diana Donnelly, and Brendan Gall, the three actors who premiered East of Berlin, for their immense contribution to the play’s development. I also want to acknowledge Christian Barry and Noah Moscovitch for their informal dramaturgy. East of Berlin was developed through the Playwrights Unit at Tarragon Theatre.
I relied heavily on two books to create the psyches and circumstances of the characters in East of Berlin: Born Guilty: Children of Nazi Families by Peter Sichrovsky, and Legacy of Silence: Encounters with Children of the Third Reich by Dan Bar-On. Thank you also to the following works: Robert Jay Lifton’s The Nazi Doctors: Medical Killing and the Psychology of Killing, Hannah Arendt’s Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on
the Banality of Evil, Primo Levi’s Survival in Auschwitz, Elie Wiesel’s Night, and Art Spiegelman’s Maus I and II.
Hannah Moscovitch’s past writing for the stage includes her short works The Russian Play, Essay, USSR, and Mexico City. Hannah’s plays have been produced across the country, including at Alberta Theatre Projects, the Magnetic North Theatre Festival, Factory Theatre, and Tarragon Theatre, where she is currently playwright-in-residence. Hannah is a graduate of the National Theatre School of Canada’s acting program and she attended the University of Toronto.
East of Berlin © Copyright 2009 by Hannah Moscovitch
Playwrights Canada Press
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Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Moscovitch, Hannah
East of Berlin [electronic resource] / Hannah Moscovitch.
A play.
Electronic monograph.
Issued also in print and PDF formats.
ISBN 978-1-77091-158-1
I. Title.
We acknowledge the financial support of the Canada Council for the Arts, the Ontario Arts Council (OAC)—an agency of the Government of Ontario, which last year funded 1,681 individual artists and 1,125 organizations in 216 communities across Ontario for a total of $52.8 million—the Ontario Media Development Corporation, and the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund for our publishing activities.
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