Dramatis Personae:
Felipe (“Phil”) Lorenzo Mariano Cunanan Villareal, foreman of a large Delta ranch
Eleanora (“Ella”) Villareal (nee Soares), his wife
Mick, proprietor and bartender, Mick’s bar
Sheriff James, the Sheriff
Dusty Page, gangster’s moll and sometime chanteuse. If possible, she should effect a trace of a southern accent.
The Man from Chicago, Dusty’s sponsor and “boyfriend”
Zack Fish, the Man from Chicago’s enforcer
Scene: Mick’s, the only bar in a small Delta town. Mick is polishing the brass rail. Phil is nursing a Coca-Cola. The time: 9 p.m. on a Thursday evening, December 1919.
Mick: Phil, tell me again about your name.
Phil: Why, Mick? Ain’t I told you about my name? Sure I’ve told you all that.
Mick: Tell me again. It’s a nice story, and I like hearing it. Plus, look around…. got anything else you want to talk about while you wait for Ella?
Phil: Okay, Mick. It’s like this. In the Philippines, your name tells everything about you. Who your father was, who your mother was, where you from, how religious your family is, everything. Phil you know is short for Felipe, because it’s what American’s think is close to Philip, and maybe because that’s where I’m from, the Philippines. But the Lorenzo is harder — that’s because my parents were big into the church. Mr. St. Lorenzo Ruiz was the first Filipino saint. And they added Mariano because, well, Maria, you know. As for the rest, it’s easy. Cunanan is my mother’s last name. Villareal is my father’s last name. If I’m lucky and have a kid, his last names will be Soares Villareal, and everybody will think he’s real Hawaiian, part Portugee, part Filipino, you know?
Mick: Sure, I understand. Wait, you said Phil is what Americans call you. Isn’t that the right nickname for Felipe?
Phil: It’s okay, MIck. I don’t mind. It’s my name now that I’m here. What about you, Mick, tell me about your name.
Mick: Oh, there’s nothing to say really. Everybody knows me as Mick.
Phil: Is it a nickname?
Mick: Sure, you could call it that.
Phil: In the Philippines, at least the part where I’m from, we’d call you Mading.
Mick: Sounds like something from a book I read once in school. Why Madding?
Phil: That’s what boys named Miguel get nicknamed, I dunno why.
Mick: Who said my name was Michael, Felipe?
[Enter the Man from Chicago, Dusty, and Zack. Phil moves away from the main bar to sit in a far corner]
Man from Chicago: Thank god, an honest bar in this godforsaken town. Bartender, my good man. Are you the proprietor for which this fine establishment is named?
Mick: I would be at that. What can I do you for, mister?
Man from Chicago: Is it still possible to get a drink around here?
Mick: For a little while yet [looking at the clock behind him]. We serve beer and whiskey mostly, but I also have wine if the lady prefers something lighter. We’ve got Jameson if that’s what you’re looking for, else Bushmill’s if that’s your preference. I might even be able to find some Redbreast if you’ve a taste for something a little more pricey.
Man from Chicago: I’ll have a double of your best, soda on the side. What’ll you have, Dusty dearest?
Dusty [looking around the bar]: They serve wine here? I’d love a glass of bubbly if they have it.
Mick: A double of Bushmill’s for the gentleman. For the lady, I will have to confess that our local wine may not be as fine as she is used to. Does she prefer her champagne dry or sweet? I can offer something a small pour of something and she could see if it is to her taste?
MFC: What, you’re giving away your liquor here?
Mick: Call it California hospitality, sir Also, as you may be aware, all this is all going away come New Years, and I’ll be offloading what’s left of my wine to father Carvalho. [pours two different whites for Dusty to try]. This one is a little sweeter, this other is a little more dry. Which do you prefer, miss?
Dusty: Oh my [giggling] that one almost tastes like my mother’s medicine.
Mick: Was perhaps your mother a good and righteous follower of Hatchet Granny, then?
Dusty: How did you know! Oh, you are a caution! This other one I can see why you call it dry. Oh if it only had bubbles I could just close my eyes and it could almost be Mow-et.
Mick: try it with a splash of soda water [adding to her glass], and here — a little something extra that I’ve been saving for New Year’s [adds a candied kumquat];
Dusty: Oh, that’s just absolutely divine — who would’ve known! [looking around]. What is that delicious little berry you put in here? It’s so delicious, I could just die right now and go to heavan!
Mick: it’s a kumquat, ma’am, do you know what those are?
MFC: Excuse me?
Mick: A sort of miniature citrus, sir. Apparently the name comes from the Chinese, and means little golden orange. Care to try one?
Dusty [interrupting]: Why all the dollar bills on the ceiling?
Mick: The bills, ma’am, are from where people — if they so choose — might take a dollar, place it top of their wallet with a pin through it, or even a piece of gum, and see if they can make it stick to the ceiling. It pays for the New Years party most years. Would you like a full glass?
Dusty: Why yes, thanks!
Mick [to Zack]: And for you, sir?
Man from Chicago: Zack will have a ginger ale. So I’m guessing this will be your last New Year’s party?
Mick: Yes, almost certainly. Not much call for a restaurant around here, so our food trade has always been in service of the liquor sales you might say. And now that Volstead is coming down, well I suppose I’ll have to just close up shop.
Man from Chicago [gesturing toward Phil]: You serve [X] in here?
Mick: Excuse me sir?
MFC: Where I come from we have shine bars so we don’t have to worry about any trouble between the races.
Mick: Mr. Villareal there is the foreman on the Logan ranch. Old man Logan owns near about everything in this town, and it wouldn’t do to refuse his best employee service. Even if I were of a mind to turn away an honest working man’s dollar.
MFC: Villareal? You mean he’s Cuban? I didn’t think ya’ll had Cubans out this way.
Mick: Perhaps I might introduce you? I’m sure he could better explain his origins than I ever could. Hey Phil! Come on over here and meet…I’m sorry sir, what was your name?
MFC: Doesn’t matter, I’m just passing through. So, Felipe, is that your name?
Phil: Yes, sir, that’s what they call me around here.
MFC: You a fisherman, by any chance?
Phil [glancing at Mick]: Uh, sure. Most of my people are fishermen. Why do you ask, sir?
MFC: I’m looking for someone to take me out fishing tomorrow. Seems like there’s gotta be places you could catch some dinner around here. What’s the local fare? How ’bout you take me out fishing tomorrow?
Dusty: Hey! What’m I supposed to do while you’re out fishing? Play cribbage with Zack?
MFC [growling]: Just don’t lose too much money while you’re at it. How hard is it to count to fifteen?
Dusty: The nerve of you, talking about fifteen with me!
Mick: Phil here is a great fisherman — I’ve been lucky enough to eat some of the leftovers from Mrs. Villareal’s supper table, isn’t that the case, Phil?
Phil: Mr… I’m sorry sir, what was your name, sir? I must check with my boss, before I do that sort of thing. I can call him now, sir [looks at Mick, who barely shakes his head], or Mr. Mick can do it for me. This fishing, sir. What did you have in mind?
MFC: What’s the local sport, here? I’d like a nice quiet spot, kinda out of the way. What ya have to catch here — trout?
Phil and Mick look at each other, Mick answers: This time of year the specialty would be sturgeon. Along with salmon, although we’re quite late in the season for that. There may be catfish, but that’s poor sport for anyone, and I’m sure you would agree.
MFC: Sturgeon? You’re shitting me.
Dusty: Language!
MFC: Like the stuff you get caviar out of? I thought they only had that in Russia!
Phil: In California we have everything sir. And Phil is as good a guide as any for our local sturgeon fishing holes. But he’s right that we should check with his employer. Would you mind? I can check with Mr. Logan. Which I should do so anyway, given that Mr. Villareal’s wife should have left the ranch house and be here by now. [turning to the phone on the wall]
Dusty: So, Zack. I guess we’ll be playing cribbage tomorrow. Remind me all the ways we get to 15?
Zack: 7-8, 9-6, 10-5, but you have four cards, so you can make it with a 10-4-Ace, or a 10-3-2, or a 9-3-3, or a…
Dusty: Oh, cripes, ya dope. I can count to fifteen. Tell me about all the other special circumstances I’m supposed to know? What’s that thing about Nobs, and his Nobs? Or was it Nibs? [Dusty and Zack repair to a table and start dealing out a hand of cribbage]
Mick (after dialing): Yes, Mrs. Logan? Mick here, down at the bar. Sorry to call you so late, Ma’m. What’s that? Oh, bless you ma’am, yes I’ve had my supper. The sheriff brought me something down from the station while he was on his way to help someone down at the ferry crossing. Anyway, ma’m, I was calling about Ella. Has she left yet? Phil’s here and… what’s that? Oh, she’s just left? Oh that’s just fine then. I’ll let him know. Oh, and isn’t that sweet — oh you shouldn’t have, ma’am [mouths to Phil: “she’s bringing pie”], that’s too generous of you. While I have you on the line Mrs. Logan, can you tell me if Mr. Logan is still up? No? Oh, of course — what am I thinking? I’m sure he’s been overseeing the pruning of that north orchard. Well here’s the thing ma’am: we have an out of town visitor who’s hoping to be shown the sights, and I was wondering if Phil could be spared during the morning tomorrow to show this gentleman some fishing. You know how it is, Mrs. Logan — gotta get up early if you want to catch anything. What’s that? Oh, let me ask. [turning to the MFC] Where did you say you were visiting from sir?
MFC: Chicago.
Mick: Chicago, ma’am. Oh, is that right? I didn’t know your people were from Illinois! Well, I’ll let him know. What’s that? Phil should be to the ranch house by noon? Of course, I’m sure that’ll be no problem. I’ll let him know. Thank you, Mrs. Logan! [ringing off]. My goodness but that woman can talk. Someone should start a bridge game in this town just to keep her occupied. In any case [turning to MFC]. Mr. … Chicago? Do you have a place to stay the night? It sounds like Phil here can take you out first thing in the morning. What do you normally charge for such excursions, Phil?
Phil: ummm….
MFC: Well if my barman here can vouch for you as a son of the old country, I’m sure you’ll do just fine for a darkie. Shall we say $50?
Phil: Oh sir, that’s…
Mick: That’s a fair and generous offer sir. We’ll make sure to have a good breakfast ready for your outing plus of course the bait and tackle for your sport. Phil’s wife Ella can be here first thing to make sure that you have a breakfast to start your day right. And.. I’m sorry, but where did you say you were staying, sir?
MFC: I didn’t, as a matter of fact. Got any hotels in this town? We were headed up to Sacramento, but if I’m going to go fishing in the morning I’d really rather not make the trip all the way there and back.
Dusty: waitaminnit, you promised me that we’d be staying at the Senator Hotel!
MFC: We’ll get there, sweetie, just be patient.
Enter Ella: Goddmanit! [looking around] Oh, sorry Mick, I didn’t realize you had customers. Phil! Mrs. Logan sent me home with a pie. You can guess the why. [Turning to Dusty and Zack] Maybe this lady and her husband want You want some? She made it special for me and Phil, but we… , well I just don’t have the appetite tonight.
MFC: The lady is with me.
Phil: Oh. Oh, Ella.
Ella: It’s okay, Phil. It’s okay. Nothing happened tonight. Mr. Mick, maybe you want some pie?
Dusty: What’s this? What did you say about pie? I’m starving!
MFC [sotte voce]: Wait, barman, my good man. You can’t mean that this lady is married to this [X]?
Mick: Ella, of course. You see we have some guests tonight. Would you be a doll and make the beds upstairs? The presidential suite [Ella cocks her eyes] for this gentleman and his…wife? Yes, wife. And a second bedroom for their… what was your name, sir?
Zack: I’m Zack. Just Zack.
Mick: For Zack. Can you do that for me, Ella?
Ella: Sure, Mick, whatever. After the night I’ve had anything but dealing with strangers. Enjoy the pie, miss. Mrs. Logan takes the credit, but it was my dough and my whipping that made the meringue [exits upstage, sound effects indicate stairs].
Phil: Ella, honey? Let me help you. Honey? [follows her, exits upstage]
Mick: Mr. Chicago: perhaps your party might grace us with your stay this evening? We are not the Senator Hotel, of course. But Ella is a fine cook — perhaps you might like a slice of pie?
MFC: what do you charge?
Mick: Oh, since you’re already paying for breakfast for yourself as part of the fishing outing, the overnight would be a simple affair. What were you thinking sir?
MFC: How does $10 a head sound.
Mick: That’s a fair and generous offer sir. Breakfast will of course be included. Can I top up your Bushmill’s, then? And perhaps another spritz for the lady? [Reaches under the bar, brings up a large folio volume register] And, of course, could you please sign your names here?
MFC: Do we really need to bother with that?
Dusty [jumping up] : Oh, why thank you! I’d love another. And what were those lovely little things, those golden berries you were talking about?
Mick: A kumquat, ma’am. Of course. That’s what makes the drink special. Perhaps the young man — was it Zack? — would like a piece of pie? [turning to MFC] Actually, sir, we do. State regulation. And the sheriff checks my books regularly, I’m afraid.
Dusty: [slaps Zack’s hand playfully] Not before me! What flavor is this?
Mick: Lemon meringue, ma’am. Have you had it?
Dusty: Oh, we don’t get lemons much where I’m from. Just pecan and chess pie. And mamma always told me to stay away from chess if I’m to keep my figure.
Mick: This is all eggs, ma’am. So pure protein, and does wonders for the hair. No need to worry your friend Mr. Chicago about your figure. If you liked that spritz, I’m sure you’ll love this pie.
Dusty: Oh. My Lord. This is divine! Honey, you just have to try some of this.
MFC: No thanks. Give it to Zack.
[Dusty turns to Zack: they confer about pie. Zack takes a piece and chews, stoically].
MFC, to Mick: So, that woman, Ella. She sure looked white to me.
Mick: Ella? Sure… why do you ask?
MFC: You all allow that sort of thing around here?
Mick: [pauses] Well, they’re both from Hawaii, as I understand it. I don’t know how they think of Portugee in Hawaii, but in California all I can say is they’re kinda Spanish. Maybe it’s not right to say that — I don’t know what Portugee and Spanish think of each other — but that’s how it is here.
MFC: So she’s European?
Mick: I don’t know as I’d say that. I think I heard her say something once about how her parents were born in the Azores. I don’t know much about where the Azores are, but I guess they’re islands somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean.
MFC: You mean like next to Africa?
Mick: Mister, I don’t have a globe in front of me, and I don’t know much about Mrs. Ella apart from what she has told me. I know she makes the best lemon meringue pie I’ve ever had, and that Phil is a great guy. That’s all I know.
MFC: Well, what I know is that [x], even if they’re sand-[x] shouldn’t be making their way with white girls.
Mick: That’s more than I know, sir. Oh, and look . Here comes the sheriff. That means it’s closing time.
[Enter Sherrif James]: Evening, Mick.
Mick: Evening, Sheriff.
Sherrif James: Time to close up. Well lookie here, looks like you have company tonight. Paying guests, it looks like?
Mick: Yes, Jim. This party here is visiting us from Chicago, staying the night before moving on to Sacramento.
Sherrif James: Chicago, you say. That’s a pretty far, what brings you into town, Mister?
MFC: Just passing through, Sherrif. Just passing through. My lady friend here [Dusty nods] just finished a terrific run on the stage back in Chicago, and this is a sort of celebratory vacation before her next gig.
Dusty: What’s that? Have you heard something you haven’t told me?
MFC: Hush, darling.
Sherrif James: Well, make sure you’re registered in the log book. [Mick points to the folio in front of MFC. MFC signs it.
Mick: I believe your friend Zack also has to sign.
Sheriff James: all parties.
MFC: I’ll sign for Zack. He’s with me. [signs again]
Sherrif James: Well, you folks have a restful evening. Mick here runs a good house, and Ella will set you up nice for breakfast.
MFC: Why in such a hurry, Sheriff? We’ve only just arrived a little while ago, and Mr. Mick here has only had time to serve us the one drink.
Mick: Two each, sir. Plus the ginger ale for your friend Zack over there. Unfortunately, town ordinance says I have to close at [looks at the clock] 9:30. Mr. Logan’s orders, you see. I’m sure you understand.
MFC: goddamndest ordinance I ever heard of. Man got a problem with people having a whiskey after a long car ride?
Sheriff James: it’s a quiet town, and Mister Logan likes it that way. I’m sure if you’d prefer to stay up later you can head on upo the River into town. No? Not that I’m trying to deny Mick his trade, of course. Just he runs a good house and has a good reputation. You see what I mean, I’m sure.
MFC: I can see a man can’t stay open for paying customers with the law breathing down his back, that’s for sure. But Mick here and his Cuban friend Mr. Villareal have promised me a spot of fishing early in the morning, which means I shouldn’t stay up late arguing the finer points of law with the Sheriff. Honey, you and Zack need to finish up that game. Honey, you about done there?
Dusty: Of course honey. We can pick this up anytime. Zack’s miffed ’cause I’m beating him for once, so I’m sure he doesn’t mind.
MFC: Finally learned to count, did you sweetie?
Dusty: Yes, honey. I finally learned to count. Christ, you never let up on that, do you?
[enter Phil, from upstage center]: Mister? Your rooms are ready. What time you want me to come by for you?
MFC: Dawn’s what, 7:30? Come by around then. Hey bartender, you got an alarm clock in these rooms?
Mick: Of course, sir. Just look on the bedside table.
Sherrif James: Sweet dreams, people. Mick here has to close up shop. [moving around to take up plates.]
MFC, Dusty, and Zack exit upstage, center.
Sherrif James: Cripes, I thought those people would never leave. Who’s the suit, and what the hell is he doing with a bodyguard?
Mick: Is that what that stone-faced guy was? I guess so, I hadn’t thought about it that way, he was so quiet. They rolled into here about a half-hour ago.
Sheriff James: The bodyguard was packing. let’s take a look at the register. What’s this, “Mr. and Mrs. Chicago?” “Mr. Zack Fish?” Jeepers, you accept that?
Mick: Come on, Jim. Look around. this is it. Ain’t nobody around here. It’s a Tuesday night, and I got nothing. Three paying customers — two drinks each, plus a soda, plus two rooms, plus the fishing outing with Phil — which I made happen, thank you very much!. He’s gonna pay Phil $50 dollars to take him out fishing, plus $10 each for two rooms for tonight. That’s what I’m looking at for income right now, Jim. That’s it. Come Thursday, I have less than nothing. Nobody passes through this town, and there’s no reason to have a bar. What am I gonna do, Jim, hunh? What am I gonna do?
Sheriff James: Nothing? You think you have nothing? What am I, nothing?
[enter Phil and Ella , upstage center]. Phil: Mr. Mick? Sherrif Jim? Those people they seem to have settled into their rooms. You need anything else?
Mick: No, Phil, we’re good. What did he say, 7:30 be ready? Ella, you need me here to open up the kitchen, I’m guessing?
Ella: Just give me the key, Mick. No reason for you to wake up early for that color-struck fancy man. I can make him breakfast.
Sherrrif James: Wait, what’s that?
Ella: Never you mind, Sheriff Jim. Never you mind. Apparently Mr. Fancy Pants Chicago has a problem with me being married to Phil here. Well that’s his problem, and not mine. But he’ll get his eggs and bacon however the goddamned hell he wants it in the morning. Phil, you coming? [takes key from Mick]
Phil: Yes, Ella.
[exit Ella and Phil. Lights face on Sheriff James and Mick in the bar].
Pimpgnosis 