VARIATIONS ON THE DEATH OF TROTSKY This play is for Fred Sanders, first appreciator ofthe comic possiblities of mountain-climbers’ axesVariations on the Death of Trotsky was first presented at the Man- hattan Punch Line Theatre (Steve Kaplan, artistic director) in New York City in January 1991. It was directed by Jason McConnel! Buzas; the set design was by Vaughn Patterson; cos- tume design was by Sharon Lynch; lighting design was by Pat Dignan. The cast was as follows: Trotsky Daniel Hagen MRS. TROTSKY Nora Mae Lyng RAMON Steven Rodriguez TROTSKY’s study in Coyoacan, Mexico. A desk, covered with books and papers. A mirror hanging on the wall. A doorvay, lft. Louvered windows upstage, through which we can glimpse lusk tropical fronds and greenery. A large wall calendar announces that teday is August 2, 1940. Lights up on TROTSKY sitting at his desk, writing furiously. He has bushy hair and a goatee, small lasses, a dare suit. The handle ofa mountain-cimber’s axe is sticking out of the back of his head. VARIATION ONE TROTSKY (as he writes): “The proletariat is right. The proletariat rust always be right. And the revolution of the proletariat against oppression must go on... . forever! (uns, TROTSKY enters, grandmotherly and sweet, in an ankle-length dress and high-button shoes. She is holding a large book.) as, rRorsky: Leon Trotsky: “And forever and forever..." MRS. TROTSKY: Leon, I was just reading the en-yclopedia motsky: The heading? nas, TROTSKY: “Trotsky, Leon.” rRotsky: Good, It's about me, Mas, TROTSKY: Listen to this. (Reads.) “On August 20th, 1940, a Spanish Communist named Ramon Mercader smashed a mountain-climber's axe into Trotsky’s skull in Coyoacan, a suburb of Mexico City. Trotsky died the next day.” TROTSKY: What is the year of that encyclopedia?56 ALL oy THe Trane Ms. TROTSKY (checks the spine): 1994. (or whatever year it happens to be right now) ‘TROTSKY: Strange. Mas. TROTSKY: Yes. TROTSKY: But interesting. I am Trotsky. Mas. Trotsky: Yes, dear. TRoTsKY: And this is our house in Coyoacan, ‘ns. TROTSKY: Yes. TRoTsky: And we have a Spanish gardener named Ramon—? MRS. TROTSKY: Mercader. Yes Trotsky: Hmm ... There aren't any other Trotskys living in Coyoacan, are there? rs. TROTSKY: I don’t think so. Not under that name. TROTSKY: What is the date today? Mas. TROTSKY (looks atthe calendar): August 21st, 1940. tRorsky: Then I'm safe! That article says it happened on the twentieth, which means it would've happened yesterday. Mas, TROTSKY: But Leon TROTSKY: And I'd be dead today, with a mountain-climber’s axe in my skull! MRs. TROTSKY: Um—Leon ‘TROTSKY: Will the capitalist press never get things right? (He resumes writing.) ‘ns. TROTSKY: But Leon, isn’t that the handle of a mountain climber’s axe, sticking out of your skull? rRorsKy (looks into the minor): It certainly does look like one... . And you know, Ramon was in here yesterday, Vaniarions on tHe Dari oF Trotsky 87 telling me about his mountain-climbing trip. And now that I think of it, he was carrying a mountain-climber’s axe. I can't remember if he had it when he lef the room. (rnotsKY considers all this.) Did Ramon report to work today? (TROTSKY dies, falling face fonvard onto hus desk.) (A bell rings.) VaRIATION Two (TROTSKY resumes writing.) trorsky: “No one is safe. Force must be used. And the revolu- tion of the proletariat against oppression must go on forever and forever...” Ms, TROTSKY: Leon ‘TROTSKY: “And forever!” Mas, t201skyY: Leon, I was just reading the encyclopedia ‘TROTSKY: Is it the Britannica? MRS. TROTSKY: Listen to this. TROTSKY (to audience): The universe as viewed by che victors MRS. TROTSKY: “On August 20th, 1940, a Spanish Communist named Ramon Mercader smashed a mountain-climber’s axe into Trotsky’s skull in Coyoacan, a suburb of Mexico City. Trotsky died the next day.” TROTSKY (impatient): Yes? And? MRS. TROTSKY: I think that there’s a mountain-climber’s axe in ‘your own skull right now. morsky: I knew that! When I was shaving this morning, I noticed a handle sticking out of the back of my head. For a moment I thought it was an ice pick, so at first I was worried,58 ALL IN THE Timine MRS. TROTSKY: No, it’s not an ice pick. tmorsky: Don't even say the word! You know my recurring nightmare. Mas. TROTSKY: Yes, dear. TROTSKY: About the ice pick that buries itself in my skull MRS. TROTSKY: Yes, dear. TRotsKy: That is why I have forbidden any of the servants to allow ice picks into the house Mrs, TROTSKY: But Leon— taotsky: No one may be seen with an ice pick in this house. Especially not Spanish Communists. Rs. TROTSKY: But Leon- ‘TROTSKY: We'll do without ice. We'll drink our liquor neat and cour Coca-Cola warm. Who cares if this is Coyoacan in Au gust? Hmm. Not a bad song-title, that. “Coyoacan in Au- gust.” (Whites it down.) Or we'll get ice, but we just won't pick at it. Ice will be allowed into the house in blocks, but may not be picked or chipped under any circumstances—at least, not with ice picks. Ice-cube trays will aso be allowed, if they've been invented yet. I'l bet this article doesn’t say anything about an ice-cube tray in my skull, does it? Mas. TROTSKY: No ‘RoTsKy: Does it? as. Trotsky: No. ‘TROTSKY: HA! I’ve outsmarted destiny! (To audience.) Which is only a capitalist explanation for the status quo! xs, TROTSKY: Leon TROTSKY: Also—took at this. (Opens a desk drawer and takes out a skull.) Do you know what this Variations on tue Deatx oF Taorsxy ns, 1R0TSKY: No. ‘TROTSKY: It’s a skull. MRS, TROTSKY: Well I knew that, but ‘otsky: I bought this skull. I own this skull. So what does that make this? (Pause,) MRS. TROTSKY AND TROTSKY (together): Trotsky’s skull. rROTSKY: If some Spanish-Communist-posing-as-a-gardener ‘wants to bury anything in my skull, be ita (he is about to say “ice pick”) you-know-what or anything else—this will be here as a decoy. He'll see this skull, recognize it as my skull, bury something in it, and he'll go his way and I'll go mine. Is that ingenious? MRS. TROTSKY: Up to a point. ‘TROTSKY: Fifty more years of Trotsky! MRs. TROTSKY: I have some very bad news for you, Leon. (Shows him the entry in the encyclopedia.) torsky: A mountain-climber’s axe... ? Ingenious! (rrotsky dies.) VaRIATION THREE teorsky: Funny. I always thought it was an ice pick. MRS. TROTSKY: A mountain-climber’s axe! A mountain-climber’s axe! CAN'T I GET THAT THROUGH YOUR SKULL? (rrorsey dies. (Bell)ALL IN THE Trae Variation Four (rROTSEY begins to pace.) Tmorskv: This is very bad news. This is serious. Mas. TROTSKY: What is serious, Leon? tmorsky: have a mountin-climber’s axe buried in my skull! MaS. TROTSKY: Smashed, actually. It says Mercader “smashed” the axe into your skull, not “buried”— ‘rRoTsky: All right, allright. What am I going to do? MRS. TROTSKY: Maybe a hat would cover the handle. You know. One of those cute little Alpine hats, with a point and a feather . . . ? (Sees the look on his face, and stops.) mmorskv: The encyclopedia says that I die today? Mas. TROTSKY: The twenty-first. That's today. tRorskY: Does it say what time? Mas. TROTSKY: No. ‘TROTSKY: So much for the usefulness of that encyclopedia. All right, then, [ have until midnight at the latest. Mas. rmotsky: What should I tell Cook about supper? ‘TROTSKY: Well she can forget the soup course. (rroTsky falls t0 the jloor and dies.) Mus. TROTSKY: Nyet, nyet, nyet! (Bell) VARIATION Five reorsky: But this man is a gardener, Mags. TROTSKY: Yes. Variations on tHE DEatH oF Trotsky ‘TROTSKY: AC least he’s been posing as a gardener. MRS, TROTSKY: Yes. ‘TROTSKY: Doesn't that make him a member of the proletariat? MRS. TROTSKY: I'd say so. TROTSKY: Then what's he doing smashing a mountain-climber’s axe into my skull? Mas. TROTSKY: I don’t know. Have you been oppressing him? ‘TROTSKY: Why would Ramon have done this to me? (He holds up the skull, Hamlet-like.) MRS. TROTSKY: Maybe he's a literalist. TROTSKY: A what? MRS. TROTSKY: A literalist. Maybe Ramon ran into Manuel yes- terday. You know—Manuel? The head gardener? TROTSKY: I know who Manuel is, Mas, TROTSKY: I know you know who Manuel is, TROTSKY (Ralph Kramden): One of these days, Mars. Trotsky Bang! Zoom! MRS. TROTSKY: Maybe Ramon asked him, “Will Mr. Trotsky have time to look at the nasturtiums today?” And maybe ‘Manuel said, “I don’t know—axe Mr. Trotsky.” HA HA HA HAHA HA! TROTSKY: Very fanny MRS. TROTSKY: Or maybe he was just hot-to-trotsky, ‘TROTSKY: Oh very, very fanny. MRS. TROTSKY: Or maybe he just wanted to pick your brain! HOO HOO HEE HEE HAA HAA! ‘TROTSKY: Stop it! Stop it! (He dies.)62 Au IN THe Timane rs. Trorsky: HA HA HA HA HA HA! (Bell) VARIATION S1x ‘TROTSKY: Call Ramon in here gs. TROTSKY: Ramon! ‘tRotsky: You'd better get him quickly. I have a mountain: climber’s axe in my skull. Mas. TROTSKY: Ramon! Come quickly! (ramon enters: sombrero, serupe, huaraches, and guitar.) Trotsky: Good morning, Ramon. RAMON: Good morning, sefior. (They shake hands.) TROTSKY: Have a seat, please. (To ates. TROTSKY.) You see? We have very good employer-employee relations here. (To RAMON.) Ramon, did you bury this mountain-climber’s axe in my skull? Ramon: | did not bury it, sefior. I smashed it into your skull. trorsky: Excuse me? RAMON: You see? You can still see the handle. MRS, TROTSKY: It’s true, Leon. The axe is not entirely out of sight. RAMON: So. we cannot say smashed,” or perhaps “jammed” — muried,” we can only say ‘TROTSKY: All right, all right. But why did you do this? RAMON: | think I read about it in an encyclopedia, ‘TROTSKY (to audience: The power of the printed word! VARIATIONS ON THE DEATH oF TROTSKY 63 RAMON: I wanted to use an ice pick, but there weren't any around the house. rRorsky: But why? Do you realize who I am? Do you realize that you smashed this axe into the skull of a major historical figure? [helped run the Russian Revolution! I fought Stain! Iwas a major political theorist! Why did you do this? Was it political disaffection? Anti-counterrevolutionary backlash? RAMON: Actually—it was love, sefior. MRS. TROTSKY: It’s trne, Leon. (She and Ramon join hands.) Pm only sorry you had to find out about it this way. norsk: No. wins. taoraKy: Yes norsk: No. RAMON: S rnorskv: Oh God! What a fool I've been! (He dies) (Bell) VARIATION SEVEN rrorsky: Why did you really do this, Ramon? RAMON: You will never know, Sefior Trotsky. ‘tRoTsky: This is a nightmare! amon: But luckily for you—your night will soon be over. (rrorsky dies.) (Bell)Aut IN THE Tinune Variation E1cuT rrorsky: Allright, Ramon. Thank you. You may go. (RAMON starts out. Stops) RAMON: Sefior Trotsky—? morsky: Yes? RAMON: Do you think you will have time to look at the nastur~ tiums today? They are really very beautiful ‘Trotsky: I don't think so, Ramon, But I'l try. Ramon: Thank you, sefior. Hasta la vista, Or should I say, buenas noches. (Exits.) anorsky: Well. Allright then. The twenty-first of August 1940, The day I'm going to die. Interesting. And to think that I've gone over so many twenty-firsts of August in my life, like a man walking over his own grave. MRS. TROTSKY: It’s been wonderful being married to you, Leon, taotsky: Thank you, Mrs. Trotsky. xs. TROTSKY: Though it was a burden at times, being married toa major historical figure. ‘TROTSKY: I'm somry I was away from home so often, tending the revolution, Ms. TROTSKY: [ understand, ‘morsky: And I'm sorry I couldn’t have been more in touch with my feelings. Mas. TROTSKY (gentle protest): No ... please taorsky: And that I often had such trouble expressing my emo- tions. Rs. TROTSKY: Oh, I haven't been everything I should have been VARIATIONS ON THE DEATH oF TROTSKY 6 rRoTsKy: Well it’s 2 little late for regrets, with a mountain- climber’s axe buried in one’s skull Mas. TROTSKY: Smashed, actually ‘TROTSKY: So it wasn’t old age, or cancer, or even the ice pick that I feared for years, It was an axe wielded by a Spanish ‘Communist posing as a gardener. Mas. rRoIsky: You really couldn't have guessed that, Leon. ‘TROTSKY: So even an assassin can make the flowers grow. The gardener was false, and yet the garden that he tended was real. How was to know he was my killer when I passed him every day? How was I to know that the man tending the nasturtiums would keep me from seeing what the weather will be like tomorrow? How was I to know I'd never get to see Casablanca, which wouldn't be made until 1942 and which I would have despised anyway? How was I to know I'd never get to know about the bomb, or the cighty thou- sand dead at Hiroshima? Or rock and roll, or Gorbachev, or the state of Israel? How was I supposed to know I'd be erased from the history books of my own land... .? MRS. TROTSKY: But reinstated, at least partially, someday. ‘TROTSKY: Sometime, for everyone, there’s a room that you go into, and it’s the room that you never leave. Or else you go out ofa room and it’s the last room that you'll everleave. (He looks around.) This is my last room. MRS. TROTSKY: But you aren’t even here, Leon, Trotsky: This desk, these books, that calendar MRS, TROTSKY: You're not even here, my love tRorsKy: The sunshine coming through the blinds . Mrs, TROTSKY: That was yesterday. You're in a hospital, uncon-66 ALL aN THE Tomine -tmorsky: The flowers in the garden. You, standing there Mas. TROTSKY: This is yesterday you're seeing. anorsky: What does that entry say? Would you read it again? Mas. TROTSKY: “On August 20th, 1940, a Spanish Communist ‘named Ramon Mercader smashed a mountain-climber’s axe into Trotsky’s skull in Coyoacan, a suburb of Mexico City. Trotsky died the next day.” ‘TROTSKY: It gives you a litle hope about the world, doesn’ it? That a man could have a mountain-climber's axe smashed into his skull, and yet live on for one whole day . . .? Maybe Pll go look at the nasturtiums. (rnorsey dies. The garden outside the louvered window begins to slow.) THE LIGHTS FADE