Читать книгу The Motherfucker with the Hat (TCG Edition) - Stephen Adly Guirgis - Страница 9
ОглавлениеLate afternoon. A small apartment in a residential hotel in Times Square. Bottles. Ashtrays. Underwear. Veronica is cleaning up. She talks on the phone, cleaning as she goes.
VERONICA: Yeah . . . Um-hm . . . Nah, Ma, I’m listening. I’m just cleaning . . . Cleaning! . . . ’Cuz Jackie don’t clean, and I like my shit clean, Ma—alright? Um-hmm . . . Um-hmm . . . Yeah, well, you know my opinion on that, Ma—you should dump his ass! . . . Ma—the guy’s an angry, bald, deadbeat alcoholic crook who looks like a fuckin’ fish, I’m sorry! . . . Yeah, well, I’m sure Attila the Hun had his good points too, but that don’t mean I’d wanna shack up in his hut! . . . Attila the Hun. You know, he was a Hun? . . . A Hun, Ma, a Hun, I dunno, a fucked-up guy—a fuckin’ Hun! . . . I am speaking louder . . . It’s ’cuz you drink too much, you shouldn’t do that—hold on a sec. (She spots a line of blow and snorts it) Ma, let’s talk in the morning . . . Ma? . . . Ma? Okay, look, for the last time, my opinion, you’re still a good-lookin’ woman with a huge, lovin’ heart and you’re not hard to please—clearly—but you’re dating a fuckin’ big-time loser with a head like a actual fuckin’ fish! . . . Okay, look, please, alls I’m gonna say, Ma, when you see him tonight: take a moment. Take a breath. Take a real good look and just ax yourself in all honesty—“Do I wanna fuck him—or fry him up with a little adobo and paprika an’ feed him to fuckin’ Buster and Negrito, okay?!” . . . I love you too. I miss him too. Kiss Buster and Negrito for me. I got your check for the cable on Thursday, we’ll eat ice cream . . . love you, okay . . .
(Jackie enters with flowers; she hangs up.)
Oh my God, are those for me?!
JACKIE: I dunno! These flowers are for my “Beautiful Boriqua Taino Mamacita Love Me Long Time Princess fuckin’ Beauty Queen”! Are you my “Beautiful Boriqua Taino Mamacita Love Me Long Time Princess fuckin’ Beauty Queen”?!
VERONICA: Yes, Mr. Man—I am your big, beautiful, whatever the fuck you just said Princess Queen!
JACKIE: Then I guess these are yours! And this chocolate bar, and this lotto ticket, and this little tiny fuzzy bear that grips an’ shit, AND—Hold up!—AND these two movie tickets to see the movie that’s playing at the movie theater later when we go see the movie and eat popcorn and Junior Mints and whatever the fuck else you want ’cuz you’re my fuckin’ “Beautiful Boriqua Taino Mamacita Love Me Long Time Princess Goddess Supergirl Queen”—who happens to be eyeballing the newest member of this city’s fine-ass working-class workforce!
VERONICA: You got a job?!
JACKIE: Yo! Lemme tell you something about the man you share a Bed of Love with: when he says, “Baby, I’m a come home with a job today—”
VERONICA: —The motherfucker delivers?!
JACKIE: Like FedEx, baby!
VERONICA: I am so proud of you!
JACKIE: I think I’m hyperventilating!
VERONICA: Me too!
JACKIE: I got a job today!
VERONICA: I know you did!
JACKIE: I did it because of you, Veronica!
VERONICA: Nah baby, you did it ’cuz you’re the fuckin’ MAN—that’s why you did that shit!
JACKIE: I ain’t saying I’m not the MAN—’cuz clearly I AM the fuckin’ MAN—but, it’s because of you, Veronica—’cuz you wanna know why?
VERONICA: Why?
JACKIE: Because get in this bed right now and lemme show you why!
VERONICA: . . . Lemme shower first.
JACKIE: I don’t care about that.
VERONICA: But I wanna shower.
JACKIE: But I like it like that.
VERONICA: Jackie. I’ll be quick.
JACKIE: . . . I love you, Veronica . . .
(Beat.)
VERONICA: Lemme shower, stoopid . . .
(Beat.)
JACKIE: Veronica?
VERONICA: Yeah?
JACKIE: Why you gettin’ all misty over there?
VERONICA: I can’t get misty when my man warms my heart?
JACKIE: Nah, yeah, you could get misty.
VERONICA: You’re sober. You got a job. You got me a little fuzzy bear that grips an’ shit—what?—I can’t get misty if I’m feelin’ like that?
JACKIE: Nah, yo, mist away—I’m good with dat.
VERONICA: . . . I’m gonna go to Carvel after we finish our business, and I’m gonna get you a fuckin’ cake, baby.
JACKIE: Yeah?
VERONICA: A big-ass Wally the Whale cake wit’ chocolate and sprinkles and icing and Carvel goodness and Carvel love all up in it.
JACKIE: Take a shower, mami—’cuz I’m ready to do work!
VERONICA: Oh yeah?
JACKIE: Yo: when I’m done with that ass, that ass gonna levitate three feet off the mattress! And you gonna be like, “Yo, Jackie: why me and my ass floatin’ in the air like this?” And I’ll be like—
VERONICA: Hold that thought. I’ll be back in a minute.
(Veronica exits to the shower.)
JACKIE: Oh! And yo, I didn’t even tell you about the best part!
VERONICA: Did you tell your PO yet?
JACKIE: What?
VERONICA: Your parole officer, you told him about your job?
JACKIE: Yeah. He told me, “Whaddya want? A medal for doing what you’re supposed to be doing?”—but I could tell his ass was happy . . .
VERONICA: . . . I’m gettin’ in the shower now.
JACKIE: Okay . . . Can you hear me?
VERONICA: Mmm-hmm.
(Jackie strips. Gets in bed.)
JACKIE: Yo, the best part: career advancement! This guy, Veronica—the boss an’ shit—he talked to me just like one human being to another, Veronica. He tol’ me, “We only got two rules here: Be polite to the tenants, and be polite to each other.” . . . And I thought about it, and I was like, “Those are good rules, sir,” and then he was like, “Good enough. Start Monday.” . . . And after I left, I was like, “That motherfucker was right.” ’Cuz, really, life is too short, ya know? Why shouldn’t we all be nice, or at least, like try . . . Ya know? An’ yo—career advancement! If I hook this up right, these people got like five buildings. I could go from porter to maybe even a super ’cuz I already got the repair shit down, and then you get free rent and cable and even free internet for like emails an’ shit, and union benefits—and they got a strong-ass union—and anyway, I started thinkin’, Veronica, ya know, and I started makin’ plans, you know? Like—grown-up plans, like “you and me” plans, happy plans, like, “next step” plans, Veronica, you know, like how you been saying? And I juss . . .
(He stops. He notices a hat on the table. He fixates on it. Beat. He crosses to the hat and examines it. He picks up the hat and sniffs it. Beat. He looks around the room. Then goes back to the bed. He smells the sheets and pillows. Beat. Veronica enters from the shower. She looks good and she knows it.)
VERONICA: . . . Hey.
JACKIE: Hey.
(She moves toward him.)
VERONICA: I look good, right? . . .
JACKIE: . . . Um . . . Yeah.
VERONICA: You had to think about it?
JACKIE: Nah.
VERONICA: . . . What?
JACKIE: Um . . . Was someone here?
VERONICA: No. Why?
JACKIE: Nah, just . . . Nobody was here?
VERONICA: I thought I just answered that.
JACKIE: Um . . . Wass up with the hat?
VERONICA: What hat?
JACKIE: That hat over there. That man hat that ain’t my hat that’s right over there.
VERONICA: Dass not your hat?
(Beat.)
JACKIE: . . . Anything you need to say?
VERONICA: ’Bout what?
JACKIE: You don’t need to say nothin’?
VERONICA: Jackie—
JACKIE: —Don’t “Jackie” me, okay? I’m calm, I’m civil, I’m polite.
VERONICA: . . . And?
JACKIE: You know my mother gave us this bed, right?
VERONICA: If you got something to say, why donchu just leave your fuckin’ mother out of it and say what you gotta say.
JACKIE: The hat: it ain’t mine.
VERONICA: So? It’s prolly your friend’s. Or your fuckin’ sponsor’s. Or whoever the fuck else comes up here sometimes—that old man down the hall you always got coming the fuck by. I don’t know.
JACKIE: You don’t know?
VERONICA: You know what? Go fuck yourself. I don’t know what your problem is, and I don’t know why you’re buggin’ the fuck out over a hat could belong to anybody—
JACKIE: —You’re right.
VERONICA: I know I’m fuckin’ right—
JACKIE: Fuck the hat.
VERONICA: Fuck the hat?
JACKIE: Dass what I said. Fuck the hat.
VERONICA: Good. Fuck it.
JACKIE: Dass right: the hat, fuck it!
VERONICA: Okay then.
JACKIE: That hat: dass a hat I got no interest in.
VERONICA: How about my apology now? You got any interest in that?
JACKIE: The bed.
VERONICA: The bed what?
JACKIE: Aqua Velva and dick. Why the bed smells like Aqua Velva and dick? Huh?! Why?!
VERONICA: Jackie—
JACKIE: —Stay away from me!
VERONICA: You’re crazy, you know that?
JACKIE: I’m crazy? Yo, head of the bed: Aqua Velva! Mid-bed: fuckin’ dick! Here. Smell it. Smell that shit and tell me it ain’t dick!
VERONICA: You’re acting fuckin’ retarded—
JACKIE: Maybe I am retarded! Maybe I’m fuckin’, you know—like the guy from the bodega who sits on the milk crate and asks you if you like Batman and Ritz crackers every fuckin’ day! Maybe I’m that fuckin’ guy!
VERONICA: You actin’ like that guy—
JACKIE: —’Cuz I’m trying very hard not to leap to conclusions, Veronica, but I’m a bit—I don’t know—unable to figure the fuck out why this bed—my mother’s fuckin’ bed—
VERONICA: —Again with your fuckin’ mother—
JACKIE: —You watch your mouth about my mother—
VERONICA: Watch my mouth about your mother? No. YOU watch my mouth about your mother! Fuck your mother! Okay? Fuck your fuckin’ bitch-ass mother, and her bitch-ass big-deal secondhand bed, and fuck her bitch-ass son, okay?! If your mother—rest in peace—was here right now, I’d strap on a fuckin’ dildo and fuck the two of youse right in your little faggot-ass, les-bionic asses, you little fuckin’ bitch—okay?! “Over, the end, don’t like you no more!” Get the fuck out!
(Veronica goes to the table, does a line of blow.)
JACKIE: My sponsor told me you were a little fuckin’ whore and I didn’t believe him!
VERONICA: Fuck your sponsor!
JACKIE: I told him, “Nah, man, we got a special thing going down between us”—
VERONICA: Why don’t you go down on your fuckin’ sponsor, okay?
JACKIE: He said, “You can’t live with an active user”—
VERONICA: —Hey! I don’t hear this shit!
JACKIE: Who was it?
VERONICA: Go lick your sponsor’s fuckin’ balls, bitch.
JACKIE: You know what? You wanna flip the script on me like a textbook fuckin’ cokehead alcoholic streetwalkin’ skank-ass trick, dass fine—but I strongly suggest that you don’t underestimate my capacity for violence!
(Veronica grabs a vodka bottle and breaks off its end.)
VERONICA: You wanna play? Try me!
JACKIE: I’ll fuckin’ kill you. You think I won’t kill you ’cuz I’m a nice guy, but believe me, I don’t give a fuck about nothin’ right now and I will end your life like you just ended mines!
VERONICA: You stay away from me!
JACKIE: Or what? You gonna hit me with that?
VERONICA: Back the fuck off, bitch! I don’t play that doormat punching-bag shit—
JACKIE: —Who was it? Just tell me who, dass all I wanna know!
VERONICA: Who was who?! There wasn’t no “who,” ’cuz no one did nothin’ over here, and you’re out your mind playin’ fuckin’ Sherlock Holmes ’cuz I don’t know why!
(Beat. Jackie starts dressing.)
Whaddya doing?
(Silence.)
Jackie, whaddya doing?
(Silence. Jackie takes a liquor bottle out of the microwave.)
Whaddya doing? Whaddya—gonna drink? A little misunderstanding happens because you’re fuckin’ stupid, and now you’re gonna pick up a drink and get your ass violated back upstate and ruin everything ’cuz you’re a jealous maniac with no leg to stand on?
JACKIE: It was that motherfuckah downstairs, wasn’t it?! That motherfuckah with the hat! He always wearing a hat, and now, suddenly, I got an unidentified fuckin’ hat sitting on my breakfast table!
VERONICA: Jackie, don’t get this twisted ’cuz I personally don’t care what you do, but, if you want my advice, put down the bottle, go to a fuckin’ meeting or something, meet up with that “sponsor” or whatever.
JACKIE: You so lucky I don’t hit women.
VERONICA: Yeah right, I’m a four-leaf clover, let’s go down to the casino and win a million bucks—
JACKIE: —Make jokes. Jokes are funny—
VERONICA: —Jackie—
JACKIE: —Don’t look at me!
VERONICA: I’m lookin’ at you—whaddya gonna do?! I’m fuckin’ sorry that you jumped to conclusions and had a conniption over nothin’, okay? And maybe I overreacted because you questioned my integrity—
JACKIE: —Questioned your integrity?! You fucked some motherfucker in this bed, Ronnie! There’s blow and vodka and cigarette butts and you didn’t think I’d be home so soon, and the motherfuckah left his hat like motherfucking Zorro leaving his “Z” all over the scene of the crime! Dass what happened! Fucking occurred here! And all I’m asking—in a world where murder right here and now would be fucked up but understandable—all I’m asking for is the owner of that dick! I want the owner! Tell me!
(Beat.)
VERONICA: Okay . . . You know what? . . . Let’s go to the pie place, okay?
JACKIE: What?!
VERONICA: ¡Cállate! Look, let’s just go there, to the pie place, and we’ll have, like, some pie, and we’ll just, like, talk, or not even talk, we’ll just eat pie first and be. And after that, we’ll talk. You have got this wrong, Jackie. You’re so far out of line you’re like in Zimbabwe or some shit, but I think maybe cooler heads could prevail on both our parts at the pie place, so let’s just go there. I’m willing to do that. I’m willing to put the ghetto on hold and eat some fuckin’ pie with you, if you’re willing to entertain the notion that you’re a fuckin’ retard ex-con who almost blew it ’cuz you got an imagination like—I dunno—Dr. fuckin’ Seuss an’ shit. Okay?
(Beat. He searches her eyes.)
JACKIE: But you’re lying.
VERONICA: Look at me: I didn’t fuck nobody. Jackie, you know how I am. You know I’m a little fuckin’ crazy just like you’re a little fuckin’ crazy, and you know I’d rather spit on a nun’s cunt than give a fuckin’ inch when I been wronged. I been wronged here. You wronged me. Really, really fuckin’ badly. But I will concede to you—and it ain’t a small concession—that I love your ass. And I’ll kick a three-legged kitten down a flight of fuckin’ stairs rather than say some shit like I love you. You know that. So let’s go get some fuckin’ pie before someone here says something that can’t be changed. Okay?
(Beat.)
JACKIE: Pie? . . .
VERONICA: Dass right. Right now.
JACKIE: Pie . . . Aaaight . . . Pie . . .
