The Hairy Ape Part 8

VOICE--Democracy, h.e.l.l! Give him the boid, fellers--the raspberry!

[_They do._]

VOICE--Ssshh! [_Reading:_] "Like Cato I say to this senate, the I. W.

W. must be destroyed! For they represent an ever-present dagger pointed at the heart of the greatest nation the world has ever known, where all men are born free and equal, with equal opportunities to all, where the Founding Fathers have guaranteed to each one happiness, where Truth, Honor, Liberty, Justice, and the Brotherhood of Man are a religion absorbed with one's mother's milk, taught at our father's knee, sealed, signed, and stamped upon in the glorious Const.i.tution of these United States!" [_A perfect storm of hisses, catcalls, boos, and hard laughter._]

VOICES--[_Scornfully._] Hurrah for de Fort' of July!

Pa.s.s de hat!

Liberty!

Justice!

Honor!

Opportunity!

Brotherhood!

ALL--[_With abysmal scorn._] Aw, h.e.l.l!

VOICE--Give that Queen Senator guy the bark! All togedder now--one--two--tree--[_A terrific chorus of barking and yapping._]

GUARD--[_From a distance._] Quiet there, youse--or I'll git the hose.

[_The noise subsides._]

YANK--[_With growling rage._] I'd like to catch dat senator guy alone for a second. I'd loin him some trute!

VOICE--Ssshh! Here's where he gits down to cases on the Wobblies.

[_Reads:_] "They plot with fire in one hand and dynamite in the other.

They stop not before murder to gain their ends, nor at the outraging of defenceless womanhood. They would tear down society, put the lowest sc.u.m in the seats of the mighty, turn Almighty G.o.d's revealed plan for the world topsy-turvy, and make of our sweet and lovely civilization a shambles, a desolation where man, G.o.d's masterpiece, would soon degenerate back to the ape!"

VOICE--[_To YANK._] Hey, you guy. There's your ape stuff again.

YANK--[_With a growl of fury._] I got him. So dey blow up tings, do dey? Dey turn tings round, do dey? Hey, lend me dat paper, will yuh?

VOICE--Sure. Give it to him. On'y keep it to yourself, see. We don't wanter listen to no more of that slop.

VOICE--Here you are. Hide it under your mattress.

YANK--[_Reaching out._] Tanks. I can't read much but I kin manage. [_He sits, the paper in the hand at his side, in the att.i.tude of Rodin's "The Thinker." A pause. Several snores from down the corridor. Suddenly YANK jumps to his feet with a furious groan as if some appalling thought had crashed on him--bewilderedly._] Sure--her old man--president of de Steel Trust--makes half de steel in de world--steel--where I tought I belonged--drivin' trou--movin'--in dat--to make HER--and cage me in for her to spit on! Christ [_He shakes the bars of his cell door till the whole tier trembles. Irritated, protesting exclamations from those awakened or trying to get to sleep._] He made dis--dis cage! Steel! IT don't belong, dat's what!

Cages, cells, locks, bolts, bars--dat's what it means!--holdin' me down wit him at de top! But I'll drive trou! Fire, dat melts it! I'll be fire--under de heap--fire dat never goes out--hot as h.e.l.l--breakin' out in de night--[_While he has been saying this last he has shaken his cell door to a clanging accompaniment. As he comes to the "breakin'

out" he seizes one bar with both hands and, putting his two feet up against the others so that his position is parallel to the floor like a monkey's, he gives a great wrench backwards. The bar bends like a licorice stick under his tremendous strength. Just at this moment the PRISON GUARD rushes in, dragging a hose behind him._]

GUARD--[_Angrily._] I'll loin youse b.u.ms to wake me up! [_Sees YANK._]

h.e.l.lo, it's you, huh? Got the D.T.s, hey? Well, I'll cure 'em. I'll drown your snakes for yuh! [_Noticing the bar._] h.e.l.l, look at dat bar bended! On'y a bug is strong enough for dat!

YANK--[_Glaring at him._] Or a hairy ape, yuh big yellow b.u.m! Look out!

Here I come! [_He grabs another bar._]

GUARD--[_Scared now--yelling off left._] Toin de hoose on, Ben!--full pressure! And call de others--and a strait jacket! [_The curtain is falling. As it hides YANK from view, there is a splattering smash as the stream of water hits the steel of YANK's cell._]

[_Curtain_]

SCENE VII

SCENE--Nearly a month later. An I. W. W. local near the waterfront, showing the interior of a front room on the ground floor, and the street outside. Moonlight on the narrow street, buildings ma.s.sed in black shadow. The interior of the room, which is general a.s.sembly room, office, and reading room, resembles some dingy settlement boys club. A desk and high stool are in one corner. A table with papers, stacks of pamphlets, chairs about it, is at center. The whole is decidedly cheap, ba.n.a.l, commonplace and unmysterious as a room could well be. The secretary is perched on the stool making entries in a large ledger. An eye shade casts his face into shadows. Eight or ten men, longsh.o.r.emen, iron workers, and the like, are grouped about the table. Two are playing checkers. One is writing a letter. Most of them are smoking pipes. A big signboard is on the wall at the rear, "Industrial Workers of the World--Local No. 57."

YANK--[_Comes down the street outside. He is dressed as in Scene Five.

He moves cautiously, mysteriously. He comes to a point opposite the door; tiptoes softly up to it, listens, is impressed by the silence within, knocks carefully, as if he were guessing at the pa.s.sword to some secret rite. Listens. No answer. Knocks again a bit louder. No answer. Knocks impatiently, much louder._]

SECRETARY--[_Turning around on his stool._] What the devil is that--someone knocking? [_Shouts:_] Come in, why don't you? [_All the men in the room look up. YANK opens the door slowly, gingerly, as if afraid of an ambush. He looks around for secret doors, mystery, is taken aback by the commonplaceness of the room and the men in it, thinks he may have gotten in the wrong place, then sees the signboard on the wall and is rea.s.sured._]

YANK--[_Blurts out._] h.e.l.lo.

MEN--[_Reservedly._] h.e.l.lo.

YANK--[_More easily._] I tought I'd b.u.mped into de wrong dump.

SECRETARY--[_Scrutinizing him carefully._] Maybe you have. Are you a member?

YANK--Naw, not yet. Dat's what I come for--to join.

SECRETARY--That's easy. What's your job--longsh.o.r.e?

YANK--Naw. Fireman--stoker on de liners.

SECRETARY--[_With satisfaction._] Welcome to our city. Glad to know you people are waking up at last. We haven't got many members in your line.

YANK--Naw. Dey're all dead to de woild.

SECRETARY--Well, you can help to wake 'em. What's your name? I'll make out your card.

YANK--[_Confused._] Name? Lemme tink.

SECRETARY--[_Sharply._] Don't you know your own name?

YANK--Sure; but I been just Yank for so long--Bob, dat's it--Bob Smith.

SECRETARY--[_Writing._] Robert Smith. [_Fills out the rest of card._]

Here you are. Cost you half a dollar.

YANK--Is dat all--four bits? Dat's easy. [_Gives the SECRETARY the money._]

SECRETARY--[_Throwing it in drawer._] Thanks. Well, make yourself at home. No introductions needed. There's literature on the table. Take some of those pamphlets with you to distribute aboard s.h.i.+p. They may bring results. Sow the seed, only go about it right. Don't get caught and fired. We got plenty out of work. What we need is men who can hold their jobs--and work for us at the same time.