Goose and Tomtom

A Play

David Rabe

• Publisher: Grove Press
• Year: 2007
• ISBN:
  9780802196941
• Topic: Literatura
• Subtopic: Arte dramático americano

"[A] violent, surrealist romp" from the Tony Award–winning playwright of Hurlyburly and Visiting Edna ( The Brown Daily Herald ). David Rabe explores the struggle between hope and anguish in the human spirit in this story of two small-time jewel thieves united in a strangely unsettling friendship and the constant fight to prove to themselves and others how tough they are. But when their frantic scheming suddenly begins to betray them in mysterious ways, they find themselves trapped into a kidnapping and a murder over which they seem to have no control. Or do they? David Rabe's language creates and recreates reality in constantly surprising ways, magically dramatizing the danger of the power of illusion—and the illusion of power—with force and insight. "A potluck smorgasbord of surrealism, dream soliloquies, science fiction, noir potboiler and fairy tales, with the ghosts of such other writers as David Mamet, Harold Pinter, Sam Shepard and even novelist Thomas Pynchon hovering nearby... boasts ample proof of a top-notch writer at work." — Chicago Tribune "A fast-paced, visceral work with a manic, anarchic energy... a chaotic examination of power and powerlessness in a frightening, irrational universe." — The Brown Daily Herald "[A] surrealist, hilarious, mind-fuck of a play... a wild, high-energy ride through plot and action." — LAist Praise for David Rabe "Few contemporary dramatists have dealt with violence, physical and psychological, more impressively than Rabe." — Kirkus Reviews "A remarkable storyteller." — Chicago Tribune "Rabe's mastery of dialogue is the equal of Pinter and Mamet put together." — The Boston Globe.

Act Two

Bingo’s sister, Lulu, sits on the couch, her hands still tied, the blindfold still on. Tomtom lies on the floor, sleeping in the moonlit dimness near her. Lorraine, in her nightie, comes out of the bedroom and walks up to Lulu.

Lorraine: What’s goin’ on?

Lulu: Hi.

Lorraine: Hi.

Lulu: I’m havin’ a beautiful dream.

Lorraine: Sleepin’, huh?

Lulu: Sorta. I don’t know.

Lorraine: I just fucked that Goose’s brains out.

Lulu: I don’t care.

Lorraine: He looked real startled. He was sorta awestruck, I could tell. He sang this little song, like, and then fell asleep.

Lulu: I don’t care.

Lorraine (joining Lulu on the couch): You’re just sittin’ there, all tied up with a blindfold on?

Lulu: Yeh.

Lorraine: Wow.

Lulu: It’s okay.

Lorraine: Sure.

Lulu: I am often kidnapped, you know, and left like this to await some transaction both mysterious and grand involving both myself and treasure.

Lorraine: I used to have a treasure.

Lulu: Wow. What kind?

Lorraine: But it was stolen.

Lulu: Wow.

Lorraine: I’m going to rule the world some day.

Lulu: What’s your name?

Lorraine: I’m not telling.

Lulu: I love secrets. That’s what’s nice about being a blindfolded kidnapped princess: everything’s a secret.

Lorraine: You’re Bingo’s sister is who you are.

Lulu: I have my secrets too, you know.

Lorraine: I found you in our goddamned closet.

Lulu: I bet you were surprised.

(Tomtom is stirring. His arms sort of flap, as if he were trying to fly or swim.)

Lorraine: He’s moving.

Lulu: What’s he doing?

Lorraine: I don’t know.

Lulu: I told him a story and he fell asleep.

Lorraine: He’s like flying or something.

Lulu: Wow.

Lorraine: We could talk to him. You ever do that thing, you know, where you talk to people when they’re sleeping and they’ll do whatever you want because they’re like under your spell in their sleeping, or if they won’t do whatever you want, they’ll talk to you about everything? Or if they won’t tell you everything, they will at least some things, sort of.

Lulu: I never did that.

Lorraine: Sure. (She is easing near to Tomtom.)

Lulu: Wanna?

Lorraine: Be fun. Sure. Tomtom?

Lulu: What’s he doing?

Lorraine: Tomtom . . . ?

Tomtom: I don’t know.

Lorraine: Yes, you do.

Tomtom: No . . . I . . . don’ . . .

Lorraine: Wanna go for a walk?

Tomtom: Okay.

Lorraine: C’mon.

Goose comes out of the bedroom, his clothes partly off and partly on, walking stiff-legged, arms extended before him; Tomtom gets to his feet and begins to walk, stiff-legged; both of them as if sleepwalking.)

Tomtom: Okay. I’m goin’ for a walk. And in . . . my walking, there is stuff under my feet to keep my feet from falling right on through the holes to this big big hole. And I don’t wanna go there.

Lorraine (looking at Goose and Tomtom): Ohhhhh. . . .

Lulu: What’s going on?

Lorraine: They’re both so cute.

Tomtom: Giants, bigger than the wind, are all over the place and these very, very old old giants are throwing secrets harder than rocks at Tomtom. Who is going to help Tomtom?

Lorraine: Lorraine.

Tomtom: No.

Lorraine: Sure.

Tomtom: Lorraine loves Goose. I know. What’s this? (He has walked up against a side wall)

Lorraine (whispering): What is it?

Tomtom: It’s very worrying for me not to know what’s going on beyond this thing, and I feel like there’s many things zooming and crashing just beyond it and nobody knows what Tomtom is, not even Lorraine. All of ‘em thinking I’m this thing inside this other thing on my shoulders—(His hands are pressing his head.)—this thing in here like a many-colored cauliflower. I ain’t no many-colored cauliflower—I ain’t—and if she knew what I was really, she would love me.

Lorraine: What are you really?

Tomtom: I don’t know. But I’m very lovable.

Lorraine: No.

Tomtom: I am, I am.

Lorraine: No.

Tomtom: I am.

Lorraine: Come on over here. (She settles onto the floor, leaning against the hassock.)

Tomtom: I gotta step real little as a bug so I don’t fall through the stuff that is over the hole and into the hole.

Lorraine: What hole?

(He stops and starts back toward the wall again.)

Lorraine (continuing): Tomtom, don’t you hear me?

Tomtom: What was this again? (He is pressing his hand on the wall.)

Lulu: He sounds so worried.

Tomtom: Oh. I can’t get behind it, though. Where’s Goose? Is Goose behind it?

(Tomtom smashes his fist into the wall, driving a huge hole into the wall, the noise waking Goose up. He looks about, pulling on his clothes.)

Lorraine: Wow. You sure ain’t boring, Tomtom. I hate boring guys, and you sure ain’t boring.

Tomtom: ‘At’s the hole. I went through the hole. I told you it was a dangerous place and holes was here. ‘At’s a hole.

Goose (running to look at the hole): ‘At’s a hole.

Tomtom: This is the hole in which Tomtom lives. My name is Tomtom and I live in that hole?

Goose: I was sleeping.

Tomtom: I was sleeping.

(Rubbing his eyes, Goose moves to the kitchen for a cup of old coffee.)

Goose: You doin’ okay?

Tomtom: Good. You? (Tomtom moves to the armchair and the newspaper.)

Goose: Great. Have a good sleep?

Tomtom: Oh, yeh.

Goose: Me, too.

Lorraine: I slept great. I slept fantastic. I used to think of Goose as a skinny guy, one arm real funny so he couldn’t bend it, and this tilt to his shoulders like he was gonna run away. He was short and hump-backed, sorta, these ugly green pimples under his arms. But last night, I says to him last night, “Give me your liver, Goose; hand me your liver,” and he did. We were making love, see. (She takes a wet meaty hunk from the pocket of the robe she has put on as she talked. She squeezes the wet hunk of meat.)

Goose: Agggggggghhhhhhhhhh!

Lorraine (running to Goose): I won’t do that again; I won’t. I won’t.

Tomtom: You want my liver, Lorraine. You can have it. (He is reaching inside his shirt.)

Lorraine: I have his, Tomtom, so I don’t need yours. I mean, in there in the dark, he just got taller and his skin was smooth. I told him of the power he had inside him ‘cause I felt it inside me, an’ his eyes, I told him, were sweet as the eyes of all the bears and bunnies of the world. Sweet Goose, maned like a dream horse. I mean, you’ve tried to make me feel that way, haven’t you, Tomtorn? I mean, I don’t quite remember. No. Yes. Wasn’t that you, Tomtom? Do you remember? Ohhh, I’m so confused. (She has ended up near Tomtom. She hugs him.)

Tomtom (crossing or turning away from her to his newspaper): Yes, I do. I do remember.

Lorraine: Anyway, he pounded away on me and it was like he knew in his stallion’s heart more of me than I had thought any man or beast would ever know. My darling Goose.

(She squeezes the liver out of confusion, enthusiasm, and passion. Goose screams.)

Lorraine (continuing): I’m sorry, Goose. I won’t do that again. I won’t. I won’t. I’m just in such a tizzy. (She runs from the room.)

Lulu: What’s for breakfast?

Tomtom: Where’s your cowboy hat?

Goose: I left it. You want me to get it? I can get it. You ain’t mad at me? Don’t be mad at me.

Tomtom: I ain’t mad at you. (Tomtom changes the bandage on his head.)

Goose: I feel like you’re gonna beat me up. You wanna beat me up?

Tomtom: N...