Read an Excerpt

DI GRINE KUSINE
 
(The Greenhorn Cousin)
 
Once a cousin came to me.
Pretty as gold was she, the greenhorn,
Cheeks like red oranges,
Tiny feet begging to dance.
 
She didn’t walk, but skipped.
She didn’t talk, but sang.
Her manner was gay and cheerful.
That’s how my cousin used to be.
 
Hair in golden locks,
Little teeth like a string of pearls,
Little eyes like twin doves,
Little lips like spring cherries.
 
I introduced her to my neighbor,
The one with a millinery store.
I got a job for my cousin,
Long life to Columbus’s land.
 
She worked for wages for many years
Until only half of her was left.
The cheeks like red oranges
Are now entirely green.
 
She had found herself a boy.
He took away all her money.
He watched every move she made.
Every night he beat her.
 
The years have now gone by.
My cousin has become a wreck.
Under her pretty blue eyes
Black lines are now drawn.
 
Now when I meet my cousin,
I ask how are you, greenhorn.
She says with a sorrowful face
To hell with Columbus’s land.
 
WHERE SHALL I BE?
 
REFRAIN:        Where shall I be when the first trumpet sounds?
Tell me, where shall I be when it sounds so loud?
When it sounds so loud as to wake up the dead,
Tell me, where whall I be when it sounds?
 
CHORUS:         When judgment day is drawing nigh,
Where shall I be?
And God the works of men shall try,
oh, Where shall I be?
When east to west the fire shall roll,
Where shall I be?
How will it be with my poor soul, oh,
Where shall I be?
 
            (REFRAIN.)
             
            When wicked men his wrath shall see,
Where shall I be?
And to the hills and mountains flee,
oh, Where shall I be?
When rocks and mountains fall away,
Where shall I be?
And all the works of men decay, oh,
Where shall I be?
 
            (REFRAIN.)
            All trouble gone, all conflict passed,
Where shall I be?
And old Appolyon bound at last, oh,
Where shall I be?
When love shall reach from shore to shore,
Where shall I be?
And peace abide forever more,
oh Where shall I be?
            (REFRAIN.)
 
CHARACTERS
 
HASKELL HARELIK (rhymes with garlic)
The immigrant. He arrives at the Port of Galveston at the age of nineteen. A Russian Jew.
 
LEAH HARELIK
His wife. Three years younger than Haskell.
 
MILTON PERRY
Owner of the Perry National Bank of Hamilton, Texas. A rock-solid, unyielding man. Forty to forty-five years old.
 
IMA PERRY
His wife. Ten years his junior.
The scenes, aside from the Prologue, are various locales in and around Hamilton, a tiny agricultural community in central Texas, from 1909 to the present.
 
NOTE: The original production of this play was accompanied by projections of photographs and clippings from the Harelik family album. As the pages of the play turned, so did the pages of the album.
 
PROLOGUE
 
The slide projections and sounds introduce us into the countryside of Byelorussia, the heartland of the Russian-Jewish people. We hear a simple balalaika tune, “Di Grine Kusine.” Pictures of Russian farmlands gradually become pictures of Jewish village life. Intruding into this pastoral scene come the sights and sounds of the pogrom: the mad clatter of invading hoofbeats, the shouts and cries. We see the IMMIGRANT standing in the center of the stage. The noises whirl around HIM. We hear whispers of “America, America,” and shortly the images are those of escape, of train travel, of masses of refugees crowding onto boats in German ports. A lengthy and difficult crossing of the Atlantic, packed into steerage. The arrival at the port of entry. Not Ellis Island, as we might expect, but the Port of Galveston, Texas, in the summer of 1909. The IMMIGRANT is lost, hungry and bewildered. We hear cries of Texas longshoremen, Mexican longshoremen, and the general hubbub surrounding an active port. One of the centers of activity is the unloading of South American banana boats. We hear Texan and Spanish voices hawking bananas.
 
The blast of a boat whistle blacks out the stage, and one immigrant’s American life begins.
 
ACT ONE
 
Scene One
 
Hamilton, Texas, 1909. The clear, tuneful song of a mockingbird brings up the lights on the front porch of MILTON and IMA PERRY, and the street. IMA is watering plants on the porch.
IMMIGRANT
 
(Offstage.)
 
Pananasapennyapiece! Pananasapennyapiece!
 
(HE enters, hauling a ramshackle wheelbarrow filled with bananas, some fresh, some horribly rotten. HE is wearing the traditional long black coat, prayer-shawl vest, and short-brimmed cap of the Orthodox European Jew.)
 
Pananasapennyapiece!
 
(IMA stares at HIM. After a moment, HE moves a few feet down the street, then is overcome by a sudden dizziness.)
 
IMA
(Calling through the screen door.)
Milton! Milton! There’s somebody out front!
 
MILTON
(Offstage.)
Who is it?
 
IMA
I don’t know. He don’t look good.
 
MILTON
(Offstage.)
What?
 
IMA
He looks sick, Milton. You better come look.
 
MILTON
(Offstage.)
Stay where you are.
 
(HE joins HER on the porch.)
 
Hey!
(From the barrow, the IMMIGRANT has pulled HIS water bottle, its lid dangling. When MILTON calls to HIM, HE gestures toward THEM with the empty container.)
 
IMMIGRANT
Kennt ihr mir geb’n ah bissel vasser? (Can you give me a little water?)
 
MILTON
Get inside. Get.
 
IMA
Who is he?
 
MILTON
Do what I say now.
 
IMMIGRANT
Ich darf ah bisseleh vasser. Nur genook ontsufill’n mein flasch. (I need a little water. Only enough to fill my bottle.) Vasser.
 
MILTON
Oh. Well, you can get some “wasser” at the well at the side of the house.
 
(The IMMIGRANT doesn’t understand.)
 
At the side of the house. There. Wasser. Get going.
 
IMMIGRANT
(HE starts toward the well, then hopefully:)
 
Pananasapennyapiece!
 
MILTON
No bananas.
 
IMMIGRANT
Thank you.
(HE exits.)
 
MILTON
Best find some shade!
 
IMA
Milton, who was that?
 
MILTON
Banana pedlar. Wandering around, I expect. I give him some water.
 
IMA
Well, I’ll swan.… He scared the daylights outta me.
 
MILTON
No harm long as he keeps moving, I expect.
(HE goes inside leaving IMA on the porch.)
 
IMA
(With relief.)
Well!