HARRY
(Laughs)
Aha!
JACKSON
Not aha, oho!
HARRY
(Drawing out a chair)
Mr. Phillips …
JACKSON
Phillip. What?
HARRY
Your reservation.
JACKSON
You want me play this game, eh?
(He walks around, goes to a corner of the gazebo)
I’ll tell you something, you hear, Mr. Trewe? And listen to me good, good. Once and for all. My sense of humor can stretch so far. Then it does snap. You see that sea out there? You know where I born? I born over there. Trinidad. I was a very serious steel-band man, too. And where I come from is a very serious place. I used to get into some serious trouble. A man keep bugging my arse once. A bad john called Boysie. Indian fellow, want to play nigger. Every day in that panyard he would come making joke with nigger boy this, and so on, and I used to just laugh and tell him stop, but he keep laughing and I keep laughing and he going on and I begging him to stop and two of us laughing, until …
(He turns, goes to the tray, and picks up a fork)
one day, just out of the blue, I pick up a ice pick and walk over to where he and two fellers was playing card, and I nail that ice pick through his hand to the table, and I laugh, and I walk away.
HARRY
Your table, Mr. Phillip.
(Silence. JACKSON shrugs, sits at the table)
JACKSON
Okay, then. Until.
HARRY
You know, if you want to exchange war experiences, lad, I could bore you with a couple of mine. Want to hear?
JACKSON
My shift is seven-thirty to one.
(He folds his arms. HARRY offers him a cigarette)
I don’t smoke on duty.
HARRY
We put on a show in the army once. Ground crew. RAF. In what used to be Palestine. A Christmas panto. Another one. And yours truly here was the dame. The dame in a panto is played by a man. Well, I got the part. Wrote the music, the book, everything, whatever original music there was. Aladdin and His Wonderful Vamp. Very obscene, of course. I was the Wonderful Vamp. Terrific reaction all around. Thanks to me music-hall background. Went down great. Well, there was a party afterward. Then a big sergeant in charge of maintenance started this very boring business of confusing my genius with my life. Kept pinching my arse and so on. It got kind of boring after a while. Well, he was the size of a truck, mate. And there wasn’t much I could do but keep blushing and pretending to be liking it. But the Wonderful Vamp was waiting outside for him, the Wonderful Vamp and a wrench this big, and after that, laddie, it took all of maintenance to put him back again.
JACKSON
That is white-man fighting. Anyway, Mr. Trewe, I feel the fun finish; I would like, with your permission, to get up now and fix up the sun deck. ’Cause when rain fall …
HARRY
Forget the sun deck. I’d say, Jackson, that we’ve come closer to a mutual respect, and that things need not get that hostile. Sit, and let me explain what I had in mind.
JACKSON
I take it that’s an order?
HARRY
You want it to be an order? Okay, it’s an order.
JACKSON
It didn’t sound like no order.
HARRY
Look, I’m a liberal, Jackson. I’ve done the whole routine. Aldermaston, Suez, Ban the Bomb, Burn the Bra, Pity the Poor Pakis, et cetera. I’ve even tried jumping up to the steel band at Notting Hill Gate, and I’d no idea I’d wind up in this ironic position of giving orders, but if the new script I’ve been given says: HARRY TREWE, HOTEL MANAGER, then I’m going to play Harry Trewe, Hotel Manager, to the hilt, damnit. So sit down! Please. Oh, goddamnit, sit … down …
(JACKSON sits. Nods)
Good. Relax. Smoke. Have a cup of tepid coffee. I sat up from about three this morning, working out this whole skit in my head.
(Pause)
Mind putting that hat on for a second, it will help my point. Come on. It’ll make things clearer.
(He gives JACKSON the goatskin hat. JACKSON, after a pause, puts it on)
JACKSON
I’ll take that cigarette.
(HARRY hands over a cigarette)
HARRY
They’ve seen that stuff, time after time. Limbo, dancing girls, fire-eating …
JACKSON
Light.
HARRY
Oh, sorry.
(He lights JACKSON’s cigarette)
JACKSON
I listening.
HARRY
We could turn this little place right here into a little cabaret, with some very witty acts. Build up the right audience. Get an edge on the others. So, I thought, Suppose I get this material down to two people. Me and … well, me and somebody else. Robinson Crusoe and Man Friday. We could work up a good satire, you know, on the master-servant—no offense—relationship. Labor-management, white-black, and so on … Making some trenchant points about topical things, you know. Add that show to the special dinner for the price of one ticket …
JACKSON
You have to have music.
HARRY
Pardon?
JACKSON
A show like that should have music. Just a lot of talk is very boring.
HARRY
Right. But I’d have to have somebody help me, and that’s where I thought … Want to take the hat off?
JACKSON
It ain’t bothering me. When you going make your point?
HARRY
We had that little Carnival contest with the staff and you knocked them out improvising, remember that? You had the bloody guests in stitches …
JACKSON
You ain’t start to talk money yet, Mr. Harry.
HARRY
Just improvising with the quatro. And not the usual welcome to Port of Spain, I am glad to see you again, but I’ll tell you, artist to artist, I recognized a real pro, and this is the point of the hat. I want to make a point about the hotel industry, about manners, conduct, to generally improve relations all around. So, whoever it is, you or whoever, plays Crusoe, and I, or whoever it is, get to play Friday, and imagine first of all the humor and then the impact of that. What you think?
JACKSON
You want my honest, professional opinion?
HARRY
Fire away.
JACKSON
I think is shit.
HARRY
I’ve never been in shit in my life, my boy.
JACKSON
It sound like shit to me, but I could be wrong.
HARRY
You could say things in fun about this place, about the whole Caribbean, that would hurt while people laughed. You get half the gate.
JACKSON
Half?
HARRY
What do you want?
JACKSON
I want you to come to your senses, let me fix the sun deck and get down to the beach for my sea bath. So, I put on this hat, I pick up this parasol, and I walk like a mama-poule up and down this stage and you have a black man playing Robinson Crusoe and then a half-naked, white, fish-belly man playing Friday, and you want to tell me it ain’t shit?
HARRY
It could be hilarious!
JACKSON
Hilarious, Mr. Trewe? Supposing I wasn’t a waiter, and instead of breakfast I was serving you communion, this Sunday morning on this tropical island, and I turn to you, Friday, to teach you my faith, and I tell you, kneel down and eat this man. Well, kneel, nuh! What you think you would say, eh?
(Pause)
You, this white savage?
HARRY
No, that’s cannibalism.
JACKSON
Is no more cannibalism than to eat a god. Suppose I make you tell me: For three hundred years I have made you my servant. For three hundred years …
HARRY
It’s pantomime, Jackson, just keep
it light … Make them laugh.
JACKSON
Okay.
(Giggling)
For three hundred years I served you. Three hundred years I served you breakfast in … in my white jacket on a white veranda, boss, bwana, effendi, bacra, sahib … in that sun that never set on your empire I was your shadow, I did what you did, boss, bwana, effendi, bacra, sahib … that was my pantomime. Every movement you made, your shadow copied …
(Stops giggling)
and you smiled at me as a child does smile at his shadow’s helpless obedience, boss, bwana, effendi, bacra, sahib, Mr. Crusoe. Now …
HARRY
Now?
(JACKSON’s speech is enacted in a trance-like drone, a zombie)
JACKSON
But after a while the child does get frighten of the shadow he make. He say to himself, That is too much obedience, I better hads stop. But the shadow don’t stop, no matter if the child stop playing that pantomime, and the shadow does follow the child everywhere; when he praying, the shadow pray too, when he turn round frighten, the shadow turn round too, when he hide under the sheet, the shadow hiding too. He cannot get rid of it, no matter what, and that is the power and black magic of the shadow, boss, bwana, effendi, bacra, sahib, until it is the shadow that start dominating the child, it is the servant that start dominating the master …
(Laughs maniacally, like The Shadow)
and that is the victory of the shadow, boss.
(Normally)
And that is why all them Pakistani and West Indians in England, all them immigrant Fridays driving all you so crazy. And they go keep driving you crazy till you go mad. In that sun that never set, they’s your shadow, you can’t shake them off.
HARRY
Got really carried away that time, didn’t you? It’s pantomime, Jackson, keep it light. Improvise!
JACKSON
You mean we making it up as we go along?
HARRY
Right!
JACKSON
Right! I in dat!
(He assumes a stern stance and points stiffly)
Robinson obey Thursday now. Speak Thursday language. Obey Thursday gods.
HARRY
Jesus Christ!
JACKSON
(Inventing language)
Amaka nobo sakamaka khaki pants kamaluma Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ kamalogo!
(Pause. Then with a violent gesture)
Kamalongo kaba!
(Meaning: Jesus is dead!)
HARRY
Sure.
(Pause. Peers forward. Then speaks to an imaginary projectionist, while JACKSON stands, feet apart, arms folded, frowning, in the usual stance of the Noble Savage)
Now, could you run it with the subtitles, please?
(He walks over to JACKSON, who remains rigid. Like a movie director)
Let’s have another take, Big Chief.
(To imaginary camera)
Roll it. Sound!
(JACKSON shoves HARRY aside and strides to the table. He bangs the heel of his palm on the tabletop)
JACKSON
Patamba! Patamba! Yes?
HARRY
You want us to strike the prop? The patamba?
(To cameraman)
Cut!
JACKSON
(To cameraman)
Rogoongo! Rogoongo!
(Meaning: Keep it rolling)
HARRY
Cut!
JACKSON
Rogoongo, damnit!
(Defiantly, furiously, JACKSON moves around, first signaling the camera to follow him, then pointing out the objects which he rechristens, shaking or hitting them violently. Slams table)
Patamba!
(Rattles beach chair)
Backaraka! Backaraka!
(Holds up cup, points with other hand)
Banda!
(Drops cup)
Banda karan!
(Puts his arm around HARRY; points at him)
Subu!
(Faster, pointing)
Masz!
(Stamping the floor)
Zohgooooor!
(Rests his snoring head on his closed palms)
Oma! Omaaaa!
(Kneels, looking skyward. Pauses; eyes closed)
Booora! Booora!
(Meaning the world. Silence. He rises)
Cut!
And dat is what it was like, before you come here with your table this and cup that.
HARRY
All right. Good audition. You get twenty dollars a day without dialogue.
JACKSON
But why?
HARRY
You never called anything by the same name twice. What’s a table?
JACKSON
I forget.
HARRY
I remember: patamba!
JACKSON
Patamba?
HARRY
Right. You fake.
JACKSON
That’s a breakfast table. Ogushi. That’s a dressing table. Amanga ogushi. I remember now.
HARRY
I’ll tell you one thing, friend. If you want me to learn your language, you’d better have a gun.
JACKSON
You best play Crusoe, chief. I surrender. All you win.
(Points wearily)
Table. Chair. Cup. Man. Jesus. I accept. I accept. All you win. Long time.
(Smiles)
HARRY
All right, then. Improvise, then. Sing us a song. In your new language, mate. In English. Go ahead. I challenge you.
JACKSON
You what?
(Rises, takes up parasol, handling it like a guitar, and strolls around the front row of the audience)
(Sings)
I want to tell you ’bout Robinson Crusoe.
He tell Friday, when I do so, do so.
Whatever I do, you must do like me.
He make Friday a Good Friday Bohbolee;1
That was the first example of slavery,
’Cause I am still Friday and you ain’t me.
Now Crusoe he was this Christian and all,
And Friday, his slave, was a cannibal,
But one day things bound to go in reverse,
With Crusoe the slave and Friday the boss.
HARRY
Then comes this part where Crusoe sings to the goat. Little hint of animal husbandry:
(Kneels, embraces an imaginary goat, to the melody of “Swanee”)
(Sings)
Nanny, how I love you,
How I love you,
My dear old nanny …
JACKSON
Is a li’l obscene.
HARRY
(Music-hall style)
Me wife thought so. Know what I used to tell her? Obscene? Well, better to be obscene than not heard. How’s that? Harry Trewe, I’m telling you again, the music hall’s loss is calypso’s gain.
(Stops)
(JACKSON pauses. Stares upward, muttering to himself. HARRY turns. JACKSON is signaling in the air with a self-congratulatory smile)
HARRY
What is it? What’ve we stopped for?
(JACKSON hisses for silence from HARRY, then returns to his reverie. Miming)
Are you feeling all right, Jackson?
(JACKSON walks some distance away from HARRY. An imaginary guitar suddenly appears in his hand. HARRY circles him. Lifts one eyelid, listens to his heartbeat. JACKSON revolves, HARRY revolves with him. JACKSON’s whole body is now silently rocking in rhythm. He is laughing to himself. We hear, very loud, a calypso rhythm)
Two can play this game, Jackson.
(He strides around in imaginary straw hat, twirling a cane. We hear, very loud, music hall. It stops. HARRY peers at JACKSON)
JACKSON
You see what you start?
(Sings)
Well, a Limey name Trewe came to Tobago.
He was in show business but he had no show,
so in desperation he turn to me
and said: “Mister Phillip” is the t
wo o’ we,
one classical actor, and one Creole …
HARRY
Wait! Hold it, hold it, man! Don’t waste that. Try and remember it. I’ll be right back.
JACKSON
Where you going?
HARRY
Tape. Repeat it, and try and keep it. That’s what I meant, you see?
JACKSON
You start to exploit me already?
HARRY
That’s right. Memorize it.
(Exits quickly. JACKSON removes his shirt and jacket, rolls up his pants above the knee, clears the breakfast tray to one side of the floor, overturns the table, and sits in it, as if it were a boat, as HARRY returns with the machine)
What’s all this? I’m ready to tape. What’re you up to?
(JACKSON sits in the upturned table, rowing calmly, and from time to time surveying the horizon. He looks up toward the sky, shielding his face from the glare with one hand; then he gestures to HARRY)
What?
(JACKSON flaps his arms around leisurely, like a large sea bird, indicating that HARRY should do the same)
What? What about the song? You’ll forget the bloody song. It was a fluke.
JACKSON
(Steps out from the table, crosses to HARRY, irritated)
If I suppose to help you with this stupidness, we will have to cool it and collaborate a little bit. Now, I was in that boat, rowing, and I was looking up to the sky to see a storm gathering, and I wanted a big white sea bird beating inland from a storm. So what’s the trouble, Mr. Trewe?
HARRY
Sea bird? What sea bird? I’m not going to play a fekking sea bird.
JACKSON
Mr. Trewe, I’m only asking you to play a white sea bird because I am supposed to play a black explorer.
HARRY
Well, I don’t want to do it. Anyway, that’s the silliest acting I’ve seen in a long time. And Robinson Crusoe wasn’t rowing when he got shipwrecked; he was on a huge boat. I didn’t come here to play a sea bird, I came to tape the song.
JACKSON
Well, then, is either the sea bird or the song. And I don’t see any reason why you have to call my acting silly. We suppose to improvise.
HARRY
All right, Jackson, all right. After I do this part, I hope you can remember the song. Now you just tell me, before we keep stopping, what I am supposed to do, how many animals I’m supposed to play, and … you know, and so on, and so on, and then when we get all that part fixed up, we’ll tape the song, all right?
JACKSON
That suits me. Now, the way I see it here: whether Robinson Crusoe was on a big boat or not, the idea is that he got …