Monday, September 23, 2019

The Milwaukee Intervention (A Verse Play)


A verse play in one scene by Brett Rutherford
Copyright © by Brett Rutherford

All Rights Reserved

Scene: Office of a shipping company. Wooden desk, old army green file cabinets, nautical maps. A window looking out over docks with a partial view of several freighters or container ships. A door backstage with glass windows, smudged..
Mrs. Caruso, early 70s, white hair in disarray, over-decorated with gaudy jewelry, wearing no nonsense work boots and a belt with a heavy key chain hanging from it. She has an old fashioned rotary phone, and a short-wave radio set with a microphone and headphones. A computer setup with an old monochrome green screen, wires and cables dangling from it.

MRS. CARUSO (puts on headset, dials in):
Arrigo, you there?  (Pause) Don’t "over" me, just talk.
I need to know when you get to that place,
you know, the Milwaukee location. Yeah,
just call me back when you’re near. I gave you,
you know, the address and all that. Bye now.
Her daughter Irene, in a red coat, passes by the window and reaches the door. She puts her face to the glass to look inside.

IRENE
Mom, is that you in there?
Mrs Caruso takes off the headset and turns toward the door.

MRS CARUSO
                                                   Who else but me?
Come on in, it’s never locked, anyway.
(Who would be crazy enough to rob us?)
They hug, then Mrs. Caruso pushes her back to inspect her daughter’s face.

MRS. CARUSO
You’re looking better. You went to that place
I told you about? (Irene nods). Good makeup helps
cover up those bruises, and all the right
vitamins will keep you in fighting form.
What’s that below your eye?

IRENE
Nothing, mom. He —

MRS. CARUSO
                                 Did it again, didn’t he?
Don’t tell me he hit you after all that,
I mean with him in those crutches and all?

IRENE
I promised not to get you involved, mom.
I thought it was his last attempt.

MRS. CARUSO
                                                            Just why
would a man who got himself beaten so
he was within an inch of his life, and
had to have you feed him like a baby —
who would he go and do that?

IRENE
                                                          Kielbasa.

CARUSO
What the hell is kielbasa?

IRENE
                                               It’s sausage,
mom, that disgusting red Polish sausage.
It’s full of gristle and fat and God knows
what else, and it is so tough you just know
you’re eating something the dog would refuse.
He always wants it on Friday. I gag
when I see it. I just can’t cook the stuff.
So I said, No, not this week, not ever.

MRS. CARUSO
And so he punched you in the eye again?

IRENE
It was worse. He took the whole crutch
and swung it wide. I ducked, but it got me.
That rubber thing on the end, it  just swiped
by my face and all but knocked me over.
I didn’t see the black eye till later.
That was three days ago. It’s almost healed.

MRS CARUSO
I thought as much. I had my eye on him
from the morning he left the hospital.
I thought you’d be here Sunday. I worried
when you didn’t call yesterday. I knew
you’d need a little more – intervention.
I don’t know why you married that Pollock
bastard anyway.

IRENE
                                    You liked him at first.

MRS. CARUSO
He was going to treat my daughter well,
like a princess, he said, and him being
all big and blond like that, so who was I
to doubt he would take care of you? The fool!

IRENE
It was all good until he lost his job.

MRS. CARUSO
That’s what they all say. The evil they do
at the office, they do to someone else.
But watch out when they bring the troubles home!
(Looks at the short-wave radio).
Hold on, that’s Arrigo. (into mike) Caruso here.
What’s your position, Arrigo? (to Irene). Our barge,
the Star of the Sea, she’s off past San Juan. (Listens).
Call me when you get on the satellite.
Over and out.

IRENE
                           I don’t know how you manage
to keep Dad’s business going.

MRS. CARUSO
                                                       You mean
me being a woman and all? How dare
this Italo-American widow,
the one woman who everyone expects
to spend the rest of her life in black skirts,
how dare I march in and take it over,
the Caruso Barge and Freight Line, just me,
the woman who knows nothing? On day one,
a captain came in and lifted my skirt.
He left with two fingers broken, and hell
to pay at home to explain his bruises.

IRENE
You’re tough, mom. No doubt about it.

MRS. CARUSO
So then your man took off without a word?

IRENE (surprised)
How did you know that?

MRS. CARUSO
                                                 That’s why you’re here.

IRENE
Well, he’s gone, and someone has stolen
his Harley, right from the garage. I mean,
he wasn’t riding off on those crutches.
We’ve such a bad run with burglaries, mom,
I didn’t know what to think.

MRS CARUSO
                                                 Burglaries?
Oh, you mean the gun collection? That was
a year ago, wasn’t it? After he
threatened you with that AR-15?

IRENE
                                                 Yes,
right after you intervened –and sent that priest.

MRS. CARUSO
Not a priest.

IRENE
              Well, he looked like a priest,
or a seminary student, all dressed
in black, and as he spoke so quietly
I couldn’t make out what he said to Tad,
but I know he wound up kneeling, and made
a promise I would never be unsafe.
It was the next day we went to South Beach,
and came back and found the whole collection
was gone, cleaned out to the last bullet.

MRS. CARUSO
                                                                       Ha!
Just like magic. I think he sold them all,
and he was just too ashamed to tell you.

IRENE
I don’t know, mom. He didn’t say a word.
He never called police since half the guns
were illegal anyway.

MRS. CARUSO
                                        Good riddance.
A lot of wives would like to have such luck,
to see their husband’s greedy hobbies burgled.

(Phone rings)

Hold on. (Into phone.) Enrico, that you? What gives?
The damn Liberians won’t accept it?
What’s wrong with a load of fly ash and all
that damn construction waste? What do they know
about the asbestos? A dump is a dump.
(to Irene). Sorry dear, just a little business.
(into phone). Look, no one over here will take the stuff.
The Africans are too good for us, eh?

Guess you’ll just have to bring it all back home.
Or, there’s always the nearest trench. Look on
the charts, and mind you don’t spill anything.
(Pauses). I didn’t say that. You didn’t hear that.
(Hangs up. Sighs). Irene, my dear, you are so innocent.
You have no idea what I do here
to keep our family and boats afloat.
So anyway, your darling Tad is gone.

IRENE
Where would he go? He can’t walk?

MRS. CARUSO
                                                              Odds are good
he’s in some dive, getting his kielbasa up
with some blond-haired lady, the kind, you know,
who do and say anything by the hour.

IRENE
Mom, no, don’t be so cruel. I just want him
found. I want to know he’s safe.

MRS. CARUSO
                                                            You want what?
Already, he had three chances. The first,
was when he hit you. I made him promise,
and he swore on his own mother’s bones, swore
he would never raise his hand against you.
And then the second time, gun in your face,
the threat against you “and all your kind,”
“and all your kind,” let’s not forget that one.
And then he hit you yet again, too drunk,
he said, to remember clearly. That’s right
before he had his Harley turn over
and people he didn’t see broke his legs.
You don’t get a fourth chance with Carusos.

IRENE
But he is missing, mom! I’ve been calling —

MRS. CARUSO
Calling whom? It’s not even three days yet —

IRENE
Emergency rooms! I just keep asking
if a man on crutches came in confused
and maybe had amnesia, you know?
I tried the police. They wouldn’t listen.

MRS. CARUSO
Irene, you know how we and the police —

IRENE
I know, mom, I know. But I worry so.

MRS CARUSO
Poor dear. Give mom a hug. You have it bad.

(They embrace. Irene cries.)

I have reason … to believe … that your Tad
has left you once and for all.

IRENE (pulling away)
                                             That can’t be.

MRS. CARUSO
I’ve had him watched. I look out for my own.
He left Sunday … for Milwaukee.

IRENE
                                                          Milwaukee?
Who knows anyone in — where? — Milwaukee?

MRS CARUSO
Lots of Polish folk there. He can find work.
He’ll get a fake ID so no one can find him.

IRENE
But Tad is my husband. We are married.

MRS CARUSO
Admit it, Irene. You came to me for help.
Just the way you would have turned to your Dad.
You know we always … solve …. problems. That’s what
family is for. You ask, and action —

IRENE (stepping away)
You knew he was gone … you didn’t tell me?

MRS. CARUSO
Irene, It’s for the best to let him go.

(Radio call comes in.)

Hold on, Irene. … Caruso here, ten four. (Pause)
You’re in position, good? Let’s just confirm:
that’s nineteen – forty two – forty nine North,
sixty-seven ---eighteen --- thirty nine West.

(Pauses. Irene starts to walk back to the door.)

(to Irene) Don’t you dare leave! Don’t turn your back on me,
young lady. You asked for help!

IRENE
                                                                  I did not ask!

MRS CARUSO
You didn’t have to ask in words. I saw
your face the day after he threatened you.
I saw your father’s pride in those cheekbones.
(Talking into microphone). 
That’s it, Arrigo. Call down and tell them
to drop their cargo. Tie them together.
Any other ships in sight?  Nothing – that’s good.
See you guys back in Miami. Love ya’!

(Sighs, then turns to face Irene. It is an emotional stand-off. 
Each waits for the other to speak first. Irene finally bows her head, walks over and takes a seat).

IRENE
What am I supposed to do, mom?

MRS. CARUSO
                                                               Just let
the bastard go, Irene. He was rotten.

IRENE
I just can’t. I could have done it, my way,
my time, my breaking point. But not this way,
him backing off to make me unhappy,
with nothing ever resolved.

MRS CARUSO
                                                   You got no kids.
So what kind of man was that, anyway?

IRENE (standing)
I’ll go to Milwaukee. I will find Tad.

MRS CARUSO
You just don’t see it, do you? It’s all fixed.
I solved your problem. Your husband is gone.
Get on with your life. Go have some babies.
Hook up with a nice … young … Italian man.

IRENE
You will tell me where he is. Milwaukee,
where in Milwaukee?

MRS CARUSO (throwing up her hands)
I am your mother. I fix it for you,
and you are ungrateful. So listen now
and learn how we do things in this real world,
this world of ships that chug the world’s garbage.
Tad is in “The Milwaukee Depth.” Just now
he was tied to his damn motorcycle
and dumped into the Puerto Rico Trench —

IRENE (cries out) Mom, no!

MRS CARUSO
                                               Twenty-seven thousand feet deep.
Squashed like a bug at the bottom, you hear?
Squashed like a bug and never to come back
and never to hurt my little Irene!

IRENE
All along it’s been you behind it all,
You sent the priest who was no priest; you sent
the burglars who took his guns, and the thugs
who drove him off the road and broke his legs.
What are you? What am I? What have we done?

(Irene backs toward the door, looking at her mother in horror. She reaches the door, opens it from behind her without looking, and exits. She is seen running past the windows.

MRS. CARUSO (alone)
(Sighs, throws up her hands). What we do for family. No one knows.
The phone rings. 
Caruso here. Calm seas and prosperous voyage.

The sound of a freighter whistle.

FINIS


1 comment:

  1. I'm feeling more and more sorry for your daughter... I hope she can stay far, far away from you.

    ReplyDelete