Ogrodowa Street – Based on the Life of Rachmiel Frydland

* Copyright Messianic Literature Outreach 2026

CHARACTERS:

RACHMIEL FRYDLAND [RAKH-meel: kh=soft guttural; FREED-land]
A Jewish man, age 26. Plays himself (ages 4–26), along with other characters. Rachmiel is very nearsighted so whenever he reads or writes, he lifts his glasses above his eyes or takes them off to see closely. Rachmiel’s bearing reflects the Orthodox Jewish world that he has come from.

STASIEK EISENBERG [STAH-shek EYE-zen-berg]

A Jewish man, twelve years older than RACHMIEL. If possible, taller than RACHMIEL. Plays himself plus several other characters older/younger, male/female, Jewish/non-Jewish. Stasiek’s bearing reflects the Reform Jewish/secular world that he has come from.

NOTE: It would be helpful, though not crucial, for the two men to resemble one another,
at least a little.

SETTING

Inside the Warsaw ghetto. Exterior. An early spring evening, 1943.

LOG LINE

Rachmiel Frydland smuggles himself into the Warsaw Ghetto hoping to die; Stasiek Eisenberg must persuade him to live.

SYNOPSIS

On his way to setting the Yeshiva world of Poland on fire, a young Orthodox Jewish prodigy takes an unexpected turn toward Christianity that severs him from the only world he has known. When bombs begin to fall on Warsaw, and boxcars crammed with humanity roll across the countryside toward annihilation, Rachmiel Frydland dodges arrest and eludes death for four years, while so many others have been less fortunate. One night in the early spring of 1943, weary and ready to die, he smuggles himself into the Warsaw Ghetto.

There he finds an old friend who spends the night determined to talk Rachmiel into escaping death one more time.

COSTUMES

RACHMIEL and STASIEK are dressed in layers: overcoats, men’s business jackets, vests, button down white shirts, fingerless gloves, black shoes (clothes look worn from 4 years of war). The layers are due to the cold weather and also to enable the many changes of characters to be expressed by adding or removing items of clothing.

These changes are done in plain sight, not hidden, and lines are often delivered as characters transition via costume changes. The audience will be able to accept them or ignore them when there is no attempt to be sneaky about it. That said, the costume changes should be as fluid as possible, so as not to interfere with the pace of the story or the delivery of the dialogue.

PROPS & SET PIECES

The same holds true of the use of the SCARF prop, which assumes many identities specific to moments in the story and is passed back and forth between characters as detailed in the script.

The movement of the benches and the podium pieces, like the costume changes, occur in plain sight, as lines are delivered, and as part of the characters’ interactions.

While these set piece movements are not hidden, they are executed in a matter-of-fact, unself-conscious manner and should distract as little as possible.

Finally, if possible, there should be something representing a single tree in the back of the stage. It will be part of the outdoor setting of the ghetto, the woods behind the town where Rachmiel grows up and later hides, as well as the ark of the covenant in the synagogue and in the chapel on Ogrodowa Street. A small light by the top of the tree represents the eternal light, the moon, a streetlight, and the presence of God that Rachmiel rails against late in the play and the direction toward which he recites Kaddish at the end.

SETTING

Outdoors, in a quiet alley inside the Warsaw Ghetto, one chilly spring evening in March 1943. There are two weather-beaten benches and two taller pieces (stacked crates? old podiums?) The men are dressed in winter coats. RACHMIEL has a large rectangular scarf wrapped around his neck in a certain way. The scarf will factor into the blocking on occasions throughout the story.

AT RISE

“Raisins and Almonds,” music in, then drops under dialogue till the song ends. RACHMIEL enters.

Looks around. He is trying to get his bearings, pointing here or there to establish the location as he remembers it. Finally, he shakes his head and looks sadly at his surroundings, then removes his glasses, which have not been updated in many years (extreme near-sightedness causes him to squint). STASIEK enters and notices RACHMIEL.

STASIEK

Gut’n avent.

RACHMIEL

(startled, he looks up as if the voice is from above, then puts his glasses on
and sees STASIEK approach)

Gut’n avent.

STASIEK

You are looking for something, maybe?

RACHMIEL

You could say that. Though I don’t expect to find it. So much has changed. I hardly recognize the Warsaw I used to know. I once lived in a small room not far from the river.

(STASIEK comes closer as RACHMIEL is still trying to get his bearings.)

And I attended a little fellowship only a few blocks . . . mmmm, I think it was that way. I was trying to remember how it all looked before they built the walls.

STASIEK

Rachmiel Frydland? Is that you?

(RACHMIEL squints hard at STASIEK.)

STASIEK

It’s me, Stasiek. Stasiek Eisenberg. From Ogrodowa Street.

RACHMIEL

Stasiek. Oh my God. Can it be?

(Laughing, they hug, exuberant with recognition until they break
the embrace below.)

STASIEK

Yes! Yes. Yes.

RACHMIEL

Stasiek Eisenberg. It’s been — what?

STASIEK

— a lifetime.

RACHMIEL

Yes. A lifetime.
(They break the embrace.)

STASIEK

You know, I hardly recognized you.

(STASIEK unwinds RACHMIEL’s scarf in a certain way to see his face better, then gives the two hanging parts a little loving tug.)

In these clothes. And with your head uncovered. Honestly, you look like a goy.

RACHMIEL

(references armband)

These days, who can forget you’re a Jew. But honestly? I barely recognize myself.

(With a mischievous look, STASIEK removes his armband and encourages RACHMIEL, who does the same. They put them in their pockets.)

STASIEK

So. Tell me. How is it that our paths never crossed? I’ve been in the ghetto since
the walls went up.

RACHMIEL

I only arrived tonight.

STASIEK

Tonight? I don’t understand. It’s almost as hard to get in as it is to get out. How did you — ?

RACHMIEL

I convinced the foreman to let me join the work crew when they returned from their shift.

STASIEK

But why? Why did you come?!

RACHMIEL

To die. Here. With my people. With you.

STASIEK

That was a mistake.

RACHMIEL

I just want to be able —

STASIEK

Do you have any idea how many people would kill to get out?

RACHMIEL

Stasiek, I have cheated death more times than I can remember. Sooner or later, it comes for us all. I just want to have a say in where that will be.

STASIEK

But out there, in Warsaw. How were you able to get around?

RACHMIEL

I have papers. They’re forged.

(reaches his hand inside his breast pocket)

I show you.

STASIEK

(puts his hand on top of RACHMIEL’s hand, outside the coat, to stop him from pulling out the papers. Looks around as though someone might be watching.)

Rachmiel. You know you can’t.

(pats RACHMIEL’s hand twice, smiles)

RACHMIEL

(leans in conspiratorially)

Beyond these walls I am “Ivan Petruschuk, born in White Russia in 1907.” At first, I worry no one will believe I’m twelve years older than I actually am. Then I see my face in a shop window.

STASIEK

The war hasn’t done anyone a favor. Still, you’re lucky you weren’t shot.

RACHMIEL

Oh yes. Luck follows me wherever I go.

STASIEK

Well, whatever luck you had, I promise you it didn’t follow you in here. But come. Come sit.

(STASIEK leads RACHMIEL to share a bench.)

You’ll have to excuse me. There are no rations till tomorrow. I have nothing to offer you but my company.

RACHMIEL

(pats him on the back)

My friend, I am happy to accept your offer.

STASIEK

You know, if you’ll pardon my saying so, I seem to remember that you always did like your food.

RACHMIEL

I’ll tell you a secret. I dream about it. My mameh’s Shabbos challah, my mameh’s Shabbos chicken. Those early years with my mameh un tateh and four beautiful sisters sitting around the table, laughing together on Friday night.

STASIEK

My friend, you’re not the only one with such dreams. Rations in the ghetto are just enough to slowly starve every Jew in Warsaw. If it wasn’t for the smuggling, we would have all been dead long ago. Of course, if you are caught smuggling, death is anything but slow. It happened to my brother Stefan last summer.

RACHMIEL

I’m so sorry. I remember your brother. He was a hero.

STASIEK

Yes. A hero. (then kibbitzing) Like you.

RACHMIEL

Me? (laughs) Stasiek, you have been in the ghetto too long.

STASIEK

And you are too modest.

RACHMIEL

Believe me. Rachmiel Frydland may be many things, but a hero is not one of them.

STASIEK

What about that morning on Ogrodowa Street? When the Germans knocked out the electricity and gas?

(they begin acting out the memory, which though terrifying, is remembered in a humorous way)

RACHMIEL

Between explosions, you and I race to the river, shlepping buckets of water!

(running back and forth, they clownishly pantomime the buckets of water and general chaos, then act out the encounter below)

STASIEK

I return with what seems like my one-hundredth bucket. I open the door, and there you are, heading back outside — holding a knife this big. You almost killed me with that knife! I jump out of the way and think to myself, Rachmiel Frydland has officially gone crazy!

(mood change as RACHMIEL imagines the scene before him)

RACHMIEL

There was a horse. Lying right there in the street, outside the mission. His eyes were wild. His hind leg was blown off. I dash out the door and the next thing I know,

(repeated stabbing motion)

I’m hacking away at this poor animal with bombs falling on every side. Maybe I was crazy.

STASIEK

You were brave.

RACHMIEL

I used to tell my tateh, “I can never be a ritual slaughterer because I cannot stand the sight of blood.” But I carve up that poor horse like the Germans and Russians carve up Poland. It was not brave.

STASIEK

Still, we had food for several days, thanks to you.

RACHMIEL

Thanks to the horse.

STASIEK (paying homage)

Yes. The horse.

RACHMIEL

God forgive me, it was the first unclean thing I ever ate.

STASIEK

(somewhat cynical)

I’m certain God understood.

RACHMIEL

Tell me. Stasiek. Is there anyone left? From the fellowship?

STASIEK

(shakes head)

They’re gone. All of them. The scholars, the shop keepers, teachers, children. So many children. Starved or deported. I myself escaped the round-ups more than once. But listen to me, Rachmiel. This is a death trap. From here there will soon be no escape. Tonight, we’ll keep company until the work shift changes over. But in the morning, you must find your way back out.

RACHMIEL

I can’t leave.

STASIEK

You can’t stay.

RACHMIEL (to STASIEK)

But where will I go?

(then quieter, not to STASIEK)

Where will I go?

RACHMIEL

Stasiek, do you remember the German Baptist Church, over by the cemetery?

STASIEK

Pastor Hoffmann. (spits)

RACHMIEL

Yesterday I dropped in on his service —

STASIEK

What? Why on earth would you take such a chance?

RACHMIEL

You yourself said I look like a goy.

STASIEK

But still —

RACHMIEL

I needed to hear the words of the scripture. To remind myself of the grace that first drew me to — .

STASIEK

(overlaps, impatient)

And did you hear what you came for?

RACHMIEL

I heard the scripture. But it was not what I came for.

(Transition: STASIEK to PASTOR HOFFMANN; goes to the podium)

PASTOR HOFFMANN

The Bible clearly says, “Submit yourselves to every ordinance of man — as unto them sent by God for the punishment of evildoers.” Brothers and sisters, every German victory is the will of the Lord.

(Nazi salute, then looks back down at podium.)

RACHMIEL

(approaches HOFFMANN)

Excuse me. Pastor Hoffmann?

PASTOR HOFFMANN

(doesn’t look up)

Hm. Yes. What is it?

RACHMIEL

If I could have a minute.

PASTOR HOFFMANN

(looks up, sees RACHMIEL, grabs his arm and pulls him over)

What are you doing here?

RACHMIEL

It’s Rachmiel Frydland —

PASTOR HOFFMANN

I know who it is.

RACHMIEL

I came to ask —

PASTOR HOFFMANN

I can’t help you.

RACHMIEL

But I haven’t even — .

PASTOR HOFFMANN

You’ve been erased.

RACHMIEL

What?

PASTOR HOFFMANN

Erased. All you Jews. Purged from our records, according to the law of the land. One God. One Reich. One Church. No Jews.

RACHMIEL

But Pastor Hoffmann, you baptized me.

PASTOR HOFFMANN

That was another time.

RACHMIEL

You called me your brother!

PASTOR HOFFMANN

Another time, Frydland.

RACHMIEL

(more aggressive)

But what about the love of Jesus? Was that another time?

PASTOR HOFFMANN

I think you’d better go.

(Transition: PASTOR HOFFMAN to STASIEK)

RACHMIEL

So. Here I am. In the one place where I am not erased.

STASIEK

Oh, my friend. Soon we will all be erased.

I can’t believe you went to see Pastor Hoffmann. Talk about chutzpah.

RACHMIEL

Unlike heroism, chutzpah is something I happen to possess in remarkable abundance.

STASIEK

(teasing)

You don’t need to tell me. I was there the night you first set foot in the mission on Ogrodowa Street.

RACHMIEL

You mean the night I made a fool of myself.

STASIEK

Exactly! I have to say, it was one of the most entertaining performances I ever saw.

RACHMIEL

What you saw was a failed young man with something to prove.

STASIEK

Failed? Failed at what? You couldn’t have been more than . . .

RACHMIEL

Seventeen.

STASIEK

Very impressive. Not everyone can fail at such a young age. You must have been a prodigy.

RACHMIEL (light sardonic laugh)

That night was the most unlikely culmination of a ten-year journey. And believe me when I say that Ogrodowa Street was the last place I imagined myself when that journey began.

(Transition: STASIEK to TATEH)

SCARF 1: RACHMIEL removes his scarf, then knots it like it contains the piece of challah and other provisions he carries on the journey.

RACHMIEL

When I turn seven, my mameh packs my clothes, wraps up a leftover piece of her Shabbos challah, and my tateh and I walk out of our little village of Lesnichowka. [Lesh-ni-CHUHF-ka]

(They begin acting out the journey.)

TATEH

Rachmiel, we’ll never get to Ruda-Huta if you don’t keep up with your tateh.

RACHMIEL (age 7)

But your legs! They’re twice as long as mine.

TATEH

Then you’ll just have to walk twice as fast.

RACHMIEL

But Tateh, why do I need to leave Lesnichowka? I already miss Mameh. And Ruch’l and Judith and Rivka and Esther.

TATEH

If you are to become the scholar God has created you to be, you must study with a melamed — a real teacher. Not just a tateh.

RACHMIEL

But I learned everything you taught me.

TATEH

Which is exactly why you need to go and learn somewhere else. So. No more complaining, yes? Come. Recite the psalms for your tateh. It will help to pass the time.

RACHMIEL

On the third day, we knock at the door of Reb Gershon — the most highly respected melamed in all of Ruda-Huta. The door opens, and a ve-e-ry tall man with a ve-e-ry long beard stands before us. But! Peeking out from behind him is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. A foot taller than me, but even through my dirty glasses I can see she is someone special. So, you can imagine how disappointed I am when Reb Gershon turns us away.

(as REB GERSHON)

“Sorry Mr. Frydland,” he says. “I’m certain your son is every bit the prodigy that you claim, but my wife, the rebbetzin, swore that if I bring in one more boy to feed, she will take our daughter and our tea kettle and go live with her sister in Warsaw.” The door closes and just like that, the little girl vanished.

(TATEH puts his hand on RACHMIEL’s back and leads the way to another rabbi, as RACHMIEL continues to narrate.)

Tateh and I walk down the street to Reb Pincus, who, though not as highly regarded as Reb Gershon, agrees to take me in.

SCARF 2: RACHMIEL gives the knotted scarf to TATEH who ruffles his hair, kisses his head, and turns away as they part.

There I study Hebrew in a house full of boys.

(Transition: TATEH to STASIEK)

SCARF 3: STASIEK unknots the scarf and puts it on himself as part of the transition.

STASIEK

After four sisters, it must have been quite the adventure.

RACHMIEL

It was! But what I remember most from those years in Ruda Huta is how Reb Pincus would become transported whenever he spoke about the coming of the Messiah.

(as REB PINCUS, the highly animated teacher of young boys)
“On that day, my young scholars, there will be a feast unlike anything you can imagine! The great wild ox of Jewish legend will be roasted over a fire, with the aroma of an animal that has grazed on a thousand hills of sweet grass. We’ll dine on Leviathan, a fish so long that it encircles the whole earth. And we’ll drink the wine that the Almighty Himself set apart on the sixth day of creation.” Every night in the house of Reb Pincus, I dream about that feast. (closes his eyes) Lately, the dream returns.

STASIEK

So, you live there for, what? Ten years?

RACHMIEL (light laugh)

Oh no. Ruda Huta was only the first step of my journey. By the time I met you, I had already studied at several very prestigious yeshivas.

STASIEK

I could see right away, the minute you walked through the door. You had the look of a learnèd man.

RACHMIEL

I had the look of a promising student who never kept his promise. I had quit my yeshiva here in Warsaw only days before.

STASIEK

Ohhh. Your tateh must have been disappointed.

RACHMIEL

That’s putting it mildly. Though, to be fair, it wasn’t entirely my fault. There was a teacher at the yeshiva who loved nothing more than to make fun of the place where I previously studied. And to ridicule me as well.

STASIEK

You mean the little town with the melamed?

RACHMIEL

No! I am talking about Chelm! A real city, renowned for its outstanding rabbinical schools.

STASIEK (amused)

You mean renowned for its foolish religious leaders who took themselves and their own piety entirely too seriously.

RACHMIEL

A reputation that was undeserved!

STASIEK

A reputation that made Chelm famous in all of Poland. For all the wrong reasons. So, what made you quit the yeshiva?

RACHMIEL

One morning my teacher calls on me to elucidate a fine point regarding the laws of the Sabbath. I am about to impress everyone with what I know, when he says,

(as SCOLDING YESHIVA TEACHER)
“Now we will hear from the Chelmer fool. A fool who is blind to his own arrogance, an arrogance which will one day prove to be his undoing!”

(STASIEK can barely contain his laughter.)

The students howl, and the teacher bangs on the podium for order.

(as SCOLDING YESHIVA TEACHER)
“Chelmer fool!” he says. “Look at the commotion you have caused in my classroom. Such behavior must be reported to the head of the yeshiva.”

(STASIEK bursts out laughing.)

What is not funny is that from that day on I am suspended from all my classes. Severed from the company of my fellow students. And left to study on my own for eleven long hours every day.

Tediously memorizing what this or that rabbi had to say about what this or that rabbi had to say, millennia ago.

STASIEK

Talk about foolishness.

RACHMIEL

The isolation is devastating, and my Yeshiva starts to feel like a coat I’m beginning to outgrow.

STASIEK

Or perhaps a cocoon from which you can finally emerge.

RACHMIEL

I leave the yeshiva, and for the first time, I find myself in touch with ordinary city people. I walk the streets in my Orthodox clothes, feeling out of step with the world around me.

STASIEK

Ah, yes. The world where I grew up. With all of those “ordinary” people.

RACHMIEL

Stasiek, I didn’t mean anything.

STASIEK

We were the Reform Jews that you yeshiva boys looked down on, when you bothered to see us at all. But to be honest, we didn’t care much for your quaint clothes and ritual practices either. You know, Rachmiel, my father also had a dream.

RACHMIEL

Yes?

STASIEK

He wanted me to be a concert pianist.

RACHMIEL

I remember! You played piano at the meetings on Ogrodowa Street.

STASIEK

Not exactly what he had in mind.

RACHMIEL

Then I suppose we were both disappointments.

STASIEK

I suppose we were.

RACHMIEL

Here in Warsaw, I realize that not only am I unfit for yeshiva; I’m unfit for anything!

SCARF 4: RACHMIEL approaches STASIEK and removes the scarf, then holds it up like he is hawking a piece of clothing in the street.

I find a dark little basement room for one zloty a month and start peddling clothes in the street. One morning, my landlady stops me on the stairs.

SCARF 5: RACHMIEL wears the scarf over his hair, gathering it beneath his chin.

(As MRS. GRIKER)

“Mr. Frydland,” she says, “unlike you, my husband and I are not learnèd in the teachings of the rabbis. Recently, we began to attend the little meetings on Ogrodowa Street, just to have something to do. The people are lovely, and (teases STASIEK) the music is quite nice. But! When they show us passages in the Bible that support their faith in (sotto voce) ‘him,’ I’m afraid we have no answers. Please, won’t you join us tomorrow night and show us the error of their ways.”

SCARF 6: RACHMIEL removes the scarf from his head, folds it/rolls it up and holds it in his hands.

STASIEK (laughs)

So, you come to Ogrodowa Street on a “mission” of your own.

RACHMIEL

How can I refuse? After nine years in yeshiva, I’m confident —

STASIEK (teasing)

Arrogant?

RACHMIEL

Certain that I can easily straighten out anyone on the matter of “him.” So, I enter the forbidden building and sit myself down in the middle of the meeting.

STASIEK (laughs, recalling)

That’s when Mr. Rosenberg gets up to pray —

STASIEK, RACHMIEL

— in Yiddish!!

STASIEK

And you explode!

(RACHMIEL jumps up onto the bench and gesticulates.
He uses the scarf like a rolled-up newspaper.)

RACHMIEL (as himself age 17)

“Jewish prayer isn’t just some ignorant muttering in the language of the street. Prayer must be prayed in Hebrew and always, always! from the prayer book!”

(sits down self-consciously)

But as I sit back down, I think to myself, why must it be Hebrew? Does God understand that language only? And how did our fathers pray in the days before prayer books were written?

Whatever I’m thinking, Mr. Rosenberg doesn’t miss a beat.

(Transition: STASIEK to MR. ROSENBERG)

SCARF 7: MR. ROSENBERG approaches RACHMIEL, and helps himself to the scarf. After his embarrassing outburst, RACHMIEL is too stunned to object. MR. ROSENBERG brings the scarf to the podium to represent the fleece in his sermon.

MR. ROSENBERG (theatrical!)

Ladies and gentlemen. Please turn with me in your Bibles to the sixth chapter of the book of Judges. Gideon has been called to lead the army of God against the enemies of Israel. And what is his response? To seek a sign that will give him the courage to forsake the life he has known and follow the call of God.

RACHMIEL

I can’t help but notice that Mr. Rosenberg is looking right at me.

MR. ROSENBERG

“Lord,” says Gideon, “Tonight I will place this fleece of wool on the threshing floor,

(places the scarf over the podium)

and when I awake in the morning, if there is dew only on the fleece and not on the ground beside it, I’ll know that you will save Israel by my hand.” The next morning, the threshing floor is dry,

(wrings out the scarf)

but Gideon squeezes out a bowl full of dew from the wet fleece.

RACHMIEL (recalls to himself)

It’s a familiar story, and the presentation is entertaining — not mediated through centuries of debate or wrapped in a tangle of differing opinions.

MR. ROSENBERG

(repeats the use of the scarf in his illustration)

Still, Gideon requires further proof. “God,” he says, “If you will indulge me one final time, I will again put out this fleece and, in the morning, if you could kindly arrange it, let the floor be wet with dew and the fleece be dry.” Now, you may be wondering, is God angry with Gideon? No. Because God understands the difficulty of such a pivotal moment. The next morning, Gideon returns to the threshing floor. The dew soaks his sandals. But the fleece is dry as a bone.

RACHMIEL

I look around and think to myself, no wonder the missionaries are having success among these simple people. But in the end, is there really anything more to the story than what has been said?

SCARF 8: As he speaks, MR. ROSENBERG returns the scarf to RACHMIEL.

MR. ROSENBERG

And if you wish, you too can put God to the test and see if the Hebrew Scriptures are not filled with signs and prophecies that point to Jesus as the Messiah. But I must warn you — do not ask unless you are ready to face the consequences.

(turns and walks back to the podium)

RACHMIEL

(jumps out of his chair, holding the scarf)

“Then show me! Show me if you can!”

MR. ROSENBERG

(unflappable)

I will be available to answer your questions, following the service.

(Transition: MR. ROSENBERG to STASIEK

RACHMIEL

(embarrassed, he returns to his seat and dons the scarf)

Poor Mrs. Griker is sorry she ever invited me. When the meeting is over, she slips out the door without a word.

STASIEK

Rachmiel. Tell me. Why did you come to the meeting? Really.

RACHMIEL

To prove to my tateh that I hadn’t wasted the Yeshiva education my family had sacrificed for.

STASIEK

You know, there are many other worthy occupations.

RACHMIEL

Not for me! (quieter) Not for my tateh.

STASIEK

I have learned that not everyone is meant to be a concert pianist. And not everyone is meant to be a great religious scholar.

RACHMIEL

I’m sure you’re right.

STASIEK

Then why is it so important for you? And your tateh?

RACHMIEL

Oy Stasiek, it’s a long story.

STASIEK

Fortunately for you, I have no other pressing engagements. Listen, I don’t know what brought us together. But it would give me great pleasure to imagine that we are simply two old friends catching up on a chilly evening in Warsaw.

(idea!)

So, if you don’t mind, I’ll pretend to have a glass of Schnapps. And you can pretend to have — ?

RACHMIEL

My mameh’s Shabbos chicken!

STASIEK

Of course. So. Please explain why, at the ripe old age of seventeen, you feel like such a failure.

[SOUND: A cappella female vocal of “Raisins and Almonds”; dialogue continues over the vocal till it fades.]

(STASIEK picks up his pretend bottle of Schnapps and glass and pours himself a drink.)

(RACHMIEL Looks up to the window where the singing might be coming from. He smiles.)

RACHMIEL

Stasiek, you know this song?

STASIEK

Everyone knows “Raisins and Almonds.” My father once wrote an arrangement for piano. I played it many times.

(Transition: STASIEK to TATEH)

SCARF 9: RACHMIEL (age 4) lies down to sleep. TATEH removes the scarf and RACHMIEL’s glasses, then uses the scarf as a blanket to cover young RACHMIEL as he tells the story.

RACHMIEL

My tateh sings it to me every night as he tucks me in. He takes off my glasses, we recite the bedtime Sh’ma, and he tells me a story. The same story every night.

TATEH (lovingly, slowly)

Once upon a time there was a mameh un a tateh who had four beautiful and pious daughters. The tateh doted on each one — as best as a man with one cow and a few chickens can dote on anything. But! The tateh had a secret.

RACHMIEL (age 4)

I know! I know!

TATEH

Excuse me, but who is telling this story? You or the tateh?

RACHMIEL (age 4)

You are, Tateh.

TATEH

So, you will listen, and I will tell. What the tateh wanted more than anything else in this world was —

RACHMIEL (blurts out)

A son!

TATEH (not angry)

Yes. A son. A son to teach God’s commandments. A son to learn the traditions of our people. A son to become a great religious scholar — (to God) if it be your will. A son to say Kaddish for me when I’m gone.

The mameh un tateh agree to eat one less potato for dinner for a whole year so they can save their grosze to bring a gift to the great Rabbi of Reywitz, a pious and mystical man who is said to speak in the voice of God.

Finally, the tateh comes face to face with the rabbi himself. “Oh, great sage!” he says. “I am nothing but a poor farmer and small-time merchant from Lesnichowka. I have walked for days to ask but one thing.”

Before the tateh can say another word, the rabbi puts up his hand, recites a simple benediction and sends him home. But! The following spring, just before Passover, when wildflowers cover the fields outside our village, the midwife puts you into the arms of your tateh and the mohel makes you a member of the people of Israel.

(TATEH adjusts the scarf/blanket and kisses the sleeping RACHMIEL’s forehead.)

(Transition: TATEH to STASIEK)

SCARF 10: RACHMIEL sits up, removes the scarf/blanket and looks at it as he transitions back to an adult, then puts the scarf around his neck on the word “mercy.”

RACHMIEL (adult)

On that day my tateh names me Rachmiel. The “mercy” of God.

STASIEK

(reads between the lines)

Rachmiel. Do you doubt that God is merciful?

RACHMIEL

These days, who doesn’t doubt? When you see what we have seen.

STASIEK

Then I suppose the only thing to do is to trust.

RACHMIEL

My tateh trusted. How could he guess that his “miracle of a son” would not just fail to be everything he expected, but that he would become the one thing no tateh could even imagine.

STASIEK

(channeling TATEH, with quiet disgust)

A goy.

RACHMIEL

You know, Stasiek, every morning I’d hear him recite the words of the prayer book: “Thank you God that I am not a gentile” —

STASIEK

More of that arrogance you Orthodox are so famous for.

RACHMIEL

He explains to me that the prayer is not meant to make us look down on anyone, God forbid, but to understand that being a Jew is a responsibility and a privilege. Though there are times — I can’t deny it — when being a gentile does appear to have its advantages.

STASIEK

I can think of one or two. Though I can’t imagine you had many experiences with “goyim” in that little cocoon of yours.

(STASIEK and RACHMIEL stack the benches on top of one another to create a store counter)

RACHMIEL

On the contrary, my worldy friend, we were the only Jewish family in Lesnichowka. There we ran a little store in our house selling soap, matches, hairpins, and candy to our neighbors: the Roman Catholics, the Greek Orthodox, the Lutherans and the Baptists.

STASIEK

And how was business with the goyim?

RACHMIEL

Good . . . and not so good. Good, because everyone needed the things we sold. Not so good, because our customers ran up bills they had no intention of paying.

SCARF 11: RACHMIEL takes off the scarf and ties it over his head like a woman.

Until one day, a traveling minister comes to preach a revival meeting next door at the home of our neighbor, Mrs. Hübscher, who rushes over to speak to my tateh.

as MRS. HÜBSCHER

“Yoo hoo! Mr. Frydland,” she says. “I don’t know if you heard, but a famous preacher from outside the district is coming here to our very own little Lesnichowka to share the words of the gospel of Jesus with anyone who’d care to listen, and I was (musically) wondering

could I borrow your chairs?”

Tateh is so relieved that Mrs. Hübscher’s interest is in our chairs and not our souls that he carries them next door himself. But when the preacher leaves town, Tateh is even happier. It starts when a young girl walks in the store.

SCARF 12: RACHMIEL drapes the scarf on either side of his head like a young girl’s long hair.

(as YOUNG POLISH GIRL)

“Beg pardon, Mr. Frydland,” she says. “Yes, that’s right, I was in here about a month ago. You remember. (nervous giggle) Well, that’s what I come to talk about. The preacher next door was saying how God condemns anyone who steals — even if it is just taking a paper of pins from Jews. Well, Mr. Frydland, the Lord Jesus Christ forgave my sins, but the preacher says I need to make it right. So, (slides her hand forward pushing the pins) here.”

STASIEK (imitating)

Even if it is just taking a paper of pins . . .

STASIEK, RACHMIEL

. . . from Jews.

RACHMIEL

Soon a parade of guilty converts file in to settle their delinquent accounts, and for a while business is looking up. But before long, those who saw the light return to their old ways, and my tateh is forced to close the store and become a street peddler.

STASIEK

A peddler. Ironic how both you and your father end up in the same line of work.

RACHMIEL

The irony is he did it so I could become a scholar. I did it to avoid that same fate.

STASIEK (teasing/dramatic)

And only days later you accept Mrs. Griker’s invitation to Ogrodowa Street, so you can prove to your tateh that you’re not the “failure” you fear you’ve become.

RACHMIEL

I suppose there’s just no end to the irony.

STASIEK

Or the foolishness.

(smiles, drinks, mischievous look on his face)

Speaking of foolishness —

RACHMIEL

Stasiek, don’t start.

STASIEK

You never told me how you happened to find yourself in Chelm.

(sees RACHMIEL’s look)

I’m only asking.

RACHMIEL

He’s only asking.

STASIEK

So, nu?

RACHMIEL

When I turn ten, and my family is forced to close the store, we can no longer afford to board me with Reb Pincus —

STASIEK

— in Ruda-Huta.

RACHMIEL

Yes. So, Tateh and I set out for Chelm. Home to many of Poland’s finest —

STASIEK

So you’ve said.

RACHMIEL

I didn’t know it at the time, but I was what you call a charity case. And since I’m at the mercy of whoever feeds me breakfast, I sometimes arrive at my first class after the lesson has begun. I slip quietly into the back, hoping to go undetected by my teacher. But no such luck.

(as CHELM YESHIVA TEACHER)

“Late again, Frydland?” he says. “How many times must I remind you that your first obligation is not to the family who feeds your body but to the yeshiva that nourishes your soul. As our sages said, Eat bread with salt, drink water by measure, sleep on the hard earth, and live the life of affliction — ”

STASIEK

What!?

RACHMIEL

“— yet keep toiling in the study of the Torah, and it shall be well with you in the world to come.”

STASIEK

“The life of affliction?”

RACHMIEL

It’s a frightening proposition for a boy of ten.

STASIEK

It’s a frightening proposition for anyone!

RACHMIEL

Nevertheless, with the promise of eternal reward, I sleep on frozen straw over cold dirt floors, gratefully consume whatever my benefactors can spare, and spend long days studying the holy books. As I see it? My one job in Chelm is to make my tateh proud.

STASIEK

I’m sure he was.

RACHMIEL (maybe not)

But, in spite of my best intentions, I still manage to find myself in trouble.

STASIEK

Why do I think it has something to do with food . . . ?

RACHMIEL (shoots him a look)

An enterprising yeshiva student begins selling hard candies to help us boys get from one meal to the next. At first, I indulge only when there’s an extra coin in my pocket . . .

STASIEK

But . . .

RACHMIEL (mortified)

Before long, my tateh is summoned to Chelm to bail me out of debt. I see that look in his eyes and hear him whisper “narishkeit.” And I know my foolishness has let him down. I am no better than the goyim who put my family out of business!

STASIEK

Rachmiel, you were hungry.

RACHMIEL

In those days, I thought I knew what hunger was.

STASIEK

You were ten!

(then shifts gears, as he sets up RACHMIEL)

Besides, you were in Chelm! The foolishness capital of Poland!

RACHMIEL

Stop.

STASIEK

Surely, you’ve heard the stories.

RACHMIEL

Many times.

STASIEK (undeterred)

My personal favorite is the one about the snow.

RACHMIEL (tries to distract)

You know, I think it might be cold enough to snow tonight, don’t you? (weakly) No?

(Still undeterred, STASIEK points at RACHMIEL to be quiet.)

STASIEK (enjoying it!)

One moonlit winter night an unexpected snow falls upon Chelm.

SCARF 13: STASIEK takes the scarf from RACHMIEL and puts it over his own shoulders like a tallis, as a costume piece to enhance the story of the pious elders.

The pious elders look out the windows of the synagogue and declare the sparkling crystals too beautiful to disturb.

“Let’s send a messenger to tell everyone not to walk on the snow,” one elder suggests.

“But,” says another, “if the messenger walks through the streets, then he himself will trample the snow.”

And of course . . .

(Waits for RACHMIEL to jump in, which he does.)

RACHMIEL

. . . he’s right.

STASIEK

So the elders decide that the messenger must not walk through the streets but should be carried by four strong and devout men to prevent his feet from spoiling the soft white blanket.

Just before dawn they set a herald on top of a wooden table, place it on the shoulders of four of Chelm’s most pious men,

(acts out hoisting the table, etc.)

. . . and send them out to alert all the inhabitants. When the sun comes up early the next morning . . .

(STASIEK invites RACHMIEL to finish the line as they both pretend to stomp back and forth joyously in the snow.)

RACHMIEL (enjoying it now)

The elders of Chelm are stunned to find footprints everywhere!

STASIEK

So you see, my friend? You were just one more fool in a fool’s paradise.

SCARF 14: STASIEK removes the scarf and hands it to RACHMIEL who also uses it as a tallis.

RACHMIEL

My personal favorite is the one about the student who comes to see his teacher. “Rabbi,” he says, “Does Chelm have a future?” The rabbi answers, “Do not worry, my son. Chelm has a future . . . and we can expect it any day.”

(STASIEK chuckles.)

(Then the mood changes as RACHMIEL removes the tallis and wistfully puts it on as a scarf.)

The trouble is, Stasiek, I have been to Chelm. The yeshiva where I studied. The homes where I ate and slept. I have walked through those familiar streets, but I could not find a single Jew. I suppose you could say that the future of Chelm came much sooner than anyone expected.

STASIEK

I . . . think I’ll have another shot of Schnapps. (pours it out, beat) For the cold.

RACHMIEL

You want some of my mameh’s chicken? It’s especially tasty tonight.

STASIEK

No thanks, I already had a large and sumptuous dinner at one of Warsaw’s fine dining establishments.

RACHMIEL

Then enjoy your drink, my friend.

STASIEK (toasts)

L’chaim!

RACHMIEL (toasts)

To life.

STASIEK

Whatever’s left of it. (drinks)

Tell me, Rachmiel. What do you miss most? Besides food. I miss the fellowship on Ogrodowa Street. The little meetings. The terrible singing.

RACHMIEL (laughs)

Mr. Rosenberg thought he was Caruso.

STASIEK

My father heard Caruso sing here in Warsaw over 40 years ago. He said it was like hearing the voice of God. I’m glad he didn’t live long enough to see all this.

RACHMIEL

Caruso?

STASIEK (ha ha not funny)

My father.

RACHMIEL

What I miss most is my sisters’ laughter. My mameh un tateh? They were too busy to laugh, but my sisters’ laughter filled every corner of our little house. It’s what passed for great music in Leshnichowka.

The spring I turn five, Tateh takes me to see the Rabbi of Reywitz, the hero of my bedtime story. I’m certain that this is the day I will finally hear the voice of God. When it’s our turn, Tateh pushes me forward till I am face to face with the great man himself. I wait, and I wait, until finally, without a word, we are ushered from his presence and back on the road to Lesnichowka.

I didn’t hear the voice of God that day in Reywitz. And I can’t really say that I’ve heard it since. Sometimes I think that the laughter of my sisters is as close as I’ll ever get.

Tell me, Stasiek. Have you ever heard it?

STASIEK

The voice of God? Not that I remember.

RACHMIEL

That’s what I like about you. You’re even less pious than I am.

STASIEK

I wouldn’t say that. But of course, I was raised with a much lower bar.

RACHMIEL

You know, I never asked how you came to Ogrodowa Street. I thought even the Reform Jews had no patience for missionaries.

STASIEK

I was invited.

RACHMIEL (makes a joke)

By your landlady?

STASIEK

By a lady.

RACHMIEL (realizes, gasps!)

A shiksa!

[Sound: EMOTIONAL VIOLIN SOLO]

(STASIEK jumps onto a bench and mimes playing along with the audio)

STASIEK (with reverence/regret)

Paulina. She played a violin that could break your heart. Her family was Lutheran, and she thought if I converted, that perhaps her parents would find me . . .

RACHMIEL

Acceptable? Ha.

[SOUND: VIOLIN OUT]

STASIEK (wry laugh, shrug)

I learned that it’s a mistake to run away from who you are. Still, the sermon I heard from Mr. Rosenberg was compelling, and although Paulina’s parents were not satisfied, I found myself a spiritual home on Ogrodowa Street.

RACHMIEL

And Ogrodowa Street found itself a pianist.

(STASIEK pours himself another Schnapps to drown his disappointment)

STASIEK

A mediocre pianist.

RACHMIEL

Stasiek. May I confess something?

STASIEK

Of course.

RACHMIEL

It’s not my finest moment and you may lose whatever respect you have for me.

STASIEK

Well, if nothing else, I’ll respect your honesty. (drinks)

RACHMIEL

The day Poland surrendered, I left Warsaw to find work outside the city. And on my way out of town, I stopped by the German Baptist Church.

STASIEK (snarky)

Was that before or after Pastor Hoffmann sold his soul to the Reich?

RACHMIEL

I asked if he would sign a baptismal certificate. To help me get past the German checkpoints.

STASIEK

It isn’t a crime to use your head.

RACHMIEL

So, I walk all day with my little “insurance policy” in my pocket, till I stop at the edge of a field to dig a potato out of the ground.

(bends down to dig)

And a German soldier supervising a work detail spots me.

(Transition: STASIEK to GERMAN SOLDIER, jumps on a bench and points his gun)

GERMAN SOLDIER

Du! Bist du Jüde? You have that look, so don’t lie. Are you a Jew? Well!?

(RACHMIEL, kneeling low, hands the certificate up to the soldier. SOLDIER jumps down from the bench and grabs it to read.)

What’s this? Baptized? In the German Baptist Church? (sniffs) Ja, uber du bist doch Jüde. (laughs) You may be baptized but it didn’t wash away the stink you people carry wherever you go. Now get down in there with the others and dig.

(GERMAN SOLDIER wads up the certificate, throws it at RACHMIEL, shoves him down with the sole of his boot on “dig” and walks away. RACHMIEL sees him leave and scrambles to retrieve the paper.)

(Transition: GERMAN SOLDIER to STASIEK)

RACHMIEL

So now I’m in a ditch beside the decaying carcass of a dead horse. If I didn’t smell before, I do now.

(flattens the certificate on the ground; reads)

“German. Baptist. Church.” At first, I think, how can the same people who introduced me to the grace of God be so cruel? But, at the same time, I’m ashamed that my own failed strategy has revealed the moral coward I’ve truly become.

(tears up the certificate, and shoves the pieces into his pocket)

STASIEK

That’s it? That’s your confession?

RACHMIEL

Yes.

STASIEK (casual)

You’ll have to forgive me for finding your story so unremarkable. I know you grew up thinking you were something special.

RACHMIEL

But you yourself just said that we can’t run away from who we are.

STASIEK

So what do you want from me? Pardon? Absolution? For what? Eating an unkosher animal? Or trying to outsmart a soldier who’d happily put a bullet through your head?

RACHMIEL

For not speaking up. Not admitting that I —

STASIEK (overlaps)

I have witnessed every vile inclination there is. And the inclination to survive is something to admire, not condemn.

RACHMIEL

But Stasiek. Have you ever felt like you were condemned to live? To bear the guilt of surviving when so many others —

STASIEK

Rachmiel, stop!! Stop trying to make sense out of something that cannot be explained.

RACHMIEL

But don’t you struggle?

STASIEK

I was never a religious prodigy, and I don’t expect to comprehend the unfathomable. Maybe you disappointed your tateh. Maybe you disappointed God. How long do you plan to carry all that around?

RACHMIEL (defensive)

As long as I live.

STASIEK

Then who am I to stand in your way. (pours a drink)

[SOUND: HAMMERING in, then fades.]

(RACHMIEL and STASIEK move the benches so they form one long bench, parallel to the house.)

RACHMIEL (looks around)

You know, Stasiek, I was here when they began building these walls. Two of my sisters had typhus, so I came to Warsaw to see if I could help. Everywhere there were signs announcing the quarantine. And all around there was hammering.

(Transition: STASIEK to RIVKA)

SCARF 15: RIVKA sits on one end of the long bench, her back to RACHMIEL, who sits across the stage on the other end of the bench with his back to her. They are each in profile to the house. The scarf hides RIVKA’s face from the audience.

Rivka? Rivka? Is that you?

RIVKA (weakly)

Is that my brother Rachmiel?

RACHMIEL (squints)

It’s so dark. Maybe if I open this curtain —

RIVKA

No no. Please. No light. It hurts my eyes. Besides, it’s better you shouldn’t see me like this, all sores and rashes.

RACHMIEL

I’m sure you’re as lovely as always.

RIVKA (sad laugh/cough)

Didn’t Tateh ever teach you that it’s a sin to lie?

RACHMIEL

(light laugh, then happily calls out)

Of course. So. Where’s Esther?

(calls out in excited anticipation) Esther! Esther, it’s Rachmiel!

RIVKA

(overlaps his name)

Rachmiel, noooooooo!!

RACHMIEL (grief overcomes him)

Oh God. Oh God.

(his face crumples, and he tears his lapel)

RIVKA

It was the typhus. She asked to be remembered to you. I’m so sorry. Esther loved her baby brother more than life itself.

RACHMIEL (reaches out to RIVKA)

Rivka.

RIVKA

No Rachmiel! Stay away.

RACHMIEL (breaks down)

I need to hold your hand.

RIVKA

You need to be strong.

RACHMIEL

But I’m not strong.

RIVKA

But you are.

RACHMIEL

If I was strong, I wouldn’t be such a disappointment. To you. To Mameh. To Tateh.

RIVKA

Still, you must be strong enough to go tell Mameh about Esther. [SOUND: HAMMERING.]

RACHMIEL (distracted, angry)

What’s all that hammering?

RIVKA

It’s the sound of life these days for the Jews in Warsaw.

RACHMIEL (naïvely)

The quarantine.

RIVKA (laugh/cough)

Oh Rachmiel, don’t you see? It’s not the typhus they’re isolating. It’s us. Now go. Before you find yourself sealed inside this ghetto with no way out. I will follow as soon as I can. But please don’t tell Mameh I sent you away hungry. She’ll never forgive me.

[SOUND: HAMMERING fades.]

(Transition: RIVKA to STASIEK)

SCARF 16: STASIEK keeps the scarf and puts it around his neck.

RACHMIEL

(dazed with grief, speaking to himself)

Esther. Dead. How can it be? And how will I tell my parents when it’s been five years since Tateh has uttered my name.

STASIEK

Since you became a believer?

RACHMIEL

Since I became a disgrace.

STASIEK

You know, you never finished the story.

RACHMIEL (not in the mood)

What?

STASIEK

That night on Ogrodowa Street when you were going to justify all those years of study and set everyone straight about “him.”

RACHMIEL

Now you’re making fun . . .

STASIEK

Maybe a little. You’re the one who said that laughter might sound like the voice of God.

RACHMIEL (not amused)

My sisters’ laughter!

STASIEK

OK, OK. So what happens that night, following the meeting. After everyone leaves. How does it go with Mr. Rosenberg?

RACHMIEL

Mr. Rosenberg stands at the podium and flips through the pages of that enormous Hebrew Bible of his, calling out one prophecy after another. Shamelesslessly implying that the Messiah of Israel is none other than the Christian Jesus. I try to remain civil, but it isn’t easy.

(Transition: STASIEK to MR. ROSENBERG)

MR. ROSENBERG

Nu, Mr. Frydland, what do you think?

RACHMIEL

I think, Mr. Rosenberg, that you’re wasting your time. None of this proves that your Jesus is the Messiah. The one the Jews are waiting for will fulfill not only the passages you’ve shown me, but many others he clearly did not satisfy.

MR. ROSENBERG (unflappable)

As a yeshiva scholar, I’m sure you’re familiar with the book of Daniel.

RACHMIEL

Of course.

MR. ROSENBERG

Then, of course, you are aware that in chapter nine, the prophet says that Messiah will come and make an end of transgression, bring reconciliation for iniquity, and be cut off —

RACHMIEL

(to show that he knows the passage)

— but not for himself. Yes. Yes. I know.

MR ROSENBERG (pleased)

Exactly. One must die so another may live. It’s called “substitutionary atonement.”

RACHMIEL

Mr. Rosenberg, I’m quite familiar with your Christian theology —

MR. ROSENBERG (interrupts)

And remember what Daniel says. This reconciliation must come to pass before the holy city is destroyed. As you know, Mr. Frydland, Jerusalem fell in — .

RACHMIEL (overlap)

— in 70 of the common era, yes, Mr. Rosenberg.

MR. ROSENBERG

By the hand of Rome.

RACHMIEL (losing patience)

Of course!!

MR. ROSENBERG

(like it’s checkmate)

Well, according to Daniel, Messiah must come before.

RACHMIEL

(forces himself to be calm)

Then I will examine all that our learnèd rabbis have to say on this subject and return to you with an explanation that will expose the foolishness of all your mistaken assumptions.

MR. ROSENBERG

An open mind, Mr. Frydland. It’s all I ask. In the meantime, please accept this little gift. It’s a New Testament and, like my opening prayer, it’s in Yiddish.

(leans in as he hands him the little book)

I hope you don’t have a problem with that.

(small chuckle)

(Transition: MR. ROSENBERG to STASIEK)

RACHMIEL

For weeks I search every yeshiva in Warsaw but find nothing on that troublesome passage, ’til I finally come across Daniel and all its commentaries in the library of the city’s largest yeshiva.

(goes to the podium; lifts his glasses to read)

Ah!! Rashi! The 11th century rabbi and one of our greatest Jewish scholars. Now I will have my answer and Mr. Rosenberg will be out of business!

(reads)

Aha. Uh huh. Hmmm. I see.

(claps his hands once, jubilant)

I knew it! You can always count on Rashi to clear up even the thorniest dilemma. He says right here that in the passage from Daniel the word “Messiah” actually refers to

(starts slowly then speeds up joyfully)

“King Agrippa who was slain shortly before the Romans destroyed the Temple in Jerusalem, meeting the timeline of Daniel 9.” Ha!

STASIEK

And that answers your question.

RACHMIEL

Why wouldn’t it? It’s Rashi. An interpretation that has satisfied Jews for centuries. Jews who would rather face death than believe in “him.”

(RACHMIEL starts to walk away from the podium, then stops, thinks.)

STASIEK

(notices some doubt on RACHMIEL’s face)

But . . . ?

RACHMIEL

(returns to the podium for another look)

Agrippa? Did King Agrippa sacrifice himself to end transgression or bring reconciliation? Agrippa, who is not even a descendant of King David — a requirement for the Messiah that every child knows. Agrippa is Rashi’s answer?

(agitated, he paces then regroups)

But then I think to myself, why should I let Mr. Rosenberg put me on the defensive, when I can simply refute his ridiculous little book of goyish lies.

(pulls the New Testament from his pocket)

So, I open it up and start from the beginning, here, it (reads) “The Gospel According to Matthew.”

I start searching for icons, idolatry, and the sort of anti- Semitism I’ve always associated with the Christian faith. But instead, what I find is a poor Jew. A Jew who quotes Torah like a rabbi and recites the words of the prophets like they’re his own. Instead of finding fault, I find a melamed — whose teaching is clearer than any commentary I’ve ever studied. And whose sacrifice seems to fulfill the prophecy in Daniel 9.

STASIEK

So, do you race over to Mr. Rosenberg with your discovery?

RACHMIEL

And admit that perhaps I was wrong?

STASIEK

The most difficult words in any language.

RACHMIEL

No. Instead, I escape from the city to find summer work in a village outside Warsaw, avoiding Ogrodowa Street and the possibility of disappointing my tateh in this terrifying new way. One day, I’m pulling weeds in a park, when the local police arrive. “Are you Rachmiel Frydland?” he asks. “Yes.” “Good,” he says. But maybe not so good for me. He has a warrant for my arrest. “Peddling without a license.”

STASIEK (laughs)

And the irony continues.

(STASIEK and RACHMIEL stand the two benches on their ends with legs facing each other to make a small cell/box which RACHMIEL can sit inside of.)

RACHMIEL

They take me down to the station to spend forty-eight hours without food or visitors —

STASIEK (joking)

No food!?

RACHMIEL (climbs into the cell)

— or visitors! — in a tiny, dark shed with a window no bigger than my fist. He orders me to empty my pockets and hand over my belt as I begin to serve my time. The air is hot with a chorus of mosquitoes, who, unlike me, are free to come and go as they please.

[SOUND: MOSQUITOS]

STASIEK (can’t help himself)

Forty-eight hours in the company of mosquitoes is nothing for someone who’s lived the life of affliction.

RACHMIEL (removes his jacket)

I try to make myself as comfortable as I can.

(sits on the folded jacket, then pulls out the New Testament)

Somehow it seems that the police have overlooked this little book. So, with nothing else to do, I sit by the tiny window and read. Soon the cramped quarters, the heat and the approaching darkness hardly matter! My mind is alert and I’m hungry —

(pre-empts STASIEK)

— but not for food! The veil of my own prejudice lifts and everything I have ever yearned to understand about God suddenly comes to life in the story of this one simple Jew. This Messiah. “Him.”

[SOUND: MOSQUITOES fade]

STASIEK

And what about your tateh?

RACHMIEL

I scrupulously avoid the mention of my little incarceration.

STASIEK

But do you mention “him?”

RACHMIEL

Stasiek, you know the expression, “toyshen dos rendl.”

STASIEK

Exchanging one currency for another, right?

RACHMIEL

It’s what I’m accused of every time I try to explain what’s happened. And although I know that my Jewishness is still as close to me as — you should pardon the reference — my own circumcision, not everyone in Warsaw agrees. Somehow, word reaches Lesnichowka, and before long, Tateh is at my door.

(Transition: STASIEK to TATEH)

TATEH (first hurt, then angry) Whatever happened to that bright little boy who could recite the psalms from the age of seven? Whose education your mameh and sisters all sacrificed for. The child we pinned our hopes on, from the day God gave you breath.

RACHMIEL

Tateh, please.

TATEH (slow escalation)

And this? This is the thanks we get?

RACHMIEL

You know I’ve always been grateful.

TATEH (more escalation)

You have desecrated the memory of every Jew who died rather than succumb to the coercion of the goyim. What others failed to destroy with clubs and guns and knives, you have destroyed with your . . . narishkeit! I tried to raise a Jew but got a fool instead. A fool who is no longer welcome in the synagogue. Who’ll never be able say Kaddish for me when I’m gone. (steely) A fool who has disgraced his tateh.

RACHMIEL

No!

TATEH (to God)

All I ever wanted was a son!

RACHMIEL

I am your son.

TATEH

You! (spits) Are a goy. Better you should never have been born! (tears his lapel, walks away)

[SOUND: DOOR SLAMS]

RACHMIEL

I will prove it to you. To mameh. To everyone. Rachmiel Frydland may be many things, but a goy is not one of them!

(Transition: TATEH to STASIEK)

STASIEK

So. That’s why you’re here. Still trying to prove something to your tateh.

RACHMIEL

My tateh is dead.

STASIEK

A tateh is never dead. But starving in the ghetto when you have a chance to live. That doesn’t prove anything.

RACHMIEL

It does to me.

(STASIEK no longer knows what to say; throws up his hands.)

(SOUND: CHILD PLAYING PIANO)

STASIEK (dreamy memory)

There was a beautiful baby grand piano in the living room of my parent’s fifth story apartment. (points) Just over there, beyond the walls, across from the park.

RACHMIEL

Ooh. You were rich.

STASIEK

In the late afternoon, the sun poured through the windows onto the lid of the piano, which my mother polished every day without fail. I was four when I had my first lesson.

(SOUND: CHILD PLAYING PIANO fades)

RACHMIEL (smiles at his own memory)

Four.

STASIEK

It was my job to learn to play like my papa. No. Not like Papa. Like Paderewski! You might say it was the reason I existed.

RACHMIEL

I also had a job when I was four.

STASIEK

What? Milking the cow?

RACHMIEL (pretend-insulted)

You don’t petition the Rabbi of Reywitz for a son to milk the cow. No. The purpose for my existence was fixed before I drew my first breath.

(Transition: STASIEK to TATEH)

SCARF 17: TATEH removes the scarf, which becomes his tallis. He folds it and carries it with him as he looks around for RACHMIEL.

TATEH (looks up)

“A son to say Kaddish for me when I’m gone.”

RACHMIEL

My lessons also begin when I turn four.

TATEH

Rachmiel, kum! Kum aher, mach shnell! You’ll make us late!

RACHMIEL (age 4)

Coming, Tateh.

TATEH

Ah! There you are. You know what today is?

RACHMIEL

Shabbos, Tateh.

TATEH

Time for you to come with me when I pray in the synagogue.

RACHMIEL (excited gasp)

I’m coming with you?

TATEH

Yes. And it’s a very important job you have. I need you to carry this.

(shows RACHMIEL the tallis; RACHMIEL reaches for it but TATEH snatches it back)

Are your hands clean?

(examines RACHMIEL’s hands and is satisfied)

RACHMIEL

Your tallis! The prayer shawl with the dancing fringes.

SCARF 18: TATEH gives RACHMIEL the scarf/tallis to hold. He unfolds it and lets the fringes dangle.

TATEH

These fringes are not just for dancing. You see those hard, little knots? There’s one for each of the six-hundred and thirteen commandments that God gave our people.

RACHMIEL

Tateh, six-hundred-thirteen is such a big, big number.

TATEH

Maybe to a boy of four, but when you become a man — well, let’s not worry about that today. For now, you can stand beneath your tateh’s tallis, till you’re ready to stand before God on your own.

RACHMIEL (narrating)

I hold the tallis tightly as we walk through our village to the home of Reb Eli where the men gather on Shabbos to pray.

TATEH

Rachmiel, Reb Eli is the richest man in our district, so you must promise to be on your best behavior. You don’t want your tateh should be ashamed.

RACHMIEL (age 4)

No, Tateh.

TATEH

I’ll tell you a secret. Reb Eli’s wife puts out cookies every Saturday morning.

RACHMIEL (gasps)

Cookies!

TATEH

You may take one.

(puts up one finger and RACHMIEL does the same; they touch fingers to seal the promise)

But only one.

SCARF 19: RACHMIEL gives the tallis back to TATEH who kisses the collar and puts it over his shoulders.

RACHMIEL

We arrive at Reb Eli’s and I have my cookie.

(TATEH and RACHMIEL sit, but RACHMIEL starts to get fidgety)

Tateh, when will it be time to pray?

TATEH

We must wait for three more men. How many will that make?

RACHMIEL (counts like a child)

Uhhh. Ten!

TATEH

That’s how many Jewish men are needed for prayer.

RACHMIEL

But why?

TATEH

Because our father Abraham begged God to spare the evil towns of Sodom and Gomorrah. He said, “God, if there are fifty righteous souls to be found, surely you won’t destroy the innocent along with the guilty.” And, of course, God agreed. Then Abraham lowered the number to forty, then thirty. Finally, he made a deal with God for ten righteous men. So. Every Shabbos we wait for — ?

RACHMIEL (triumphant)

Ten men to pray!!

TATEH

Such a smart boy. Have another cookie.

RACHMIEL

Tateh, I have a question.

TATEH

Yes?

RACHMIEL

The men who come here to Reb Eli’s on Shabbos. Are they all “righteous souls?” (imitating his father’s words)

TATEH (deep breath)

That, my son, is something only God knows.

(Transition: TATEH to STASIEK)

RACHMIEL (adult)

That day my tateh does not tell me what happened to Sodom and Gomorrah, but I soon learn that there were not enough righteous men to save them from the terrible things that were coming their way.

Stasiek, do you ever wonder about that?

STASIEK

About — ?

RACHMIEL (looks around him)

Were there not even ten righteous Jews in all of Poland to prevent what has happened.

STASIEK

I don’t think about it, Rachmiel.

RACHMIEL

You don’t?

STASIEK

I suppose all those years at yeshiva have trained your mind to sniff around such questions like a dog with a bone. But what good can come of it?

RACHMIEL

I envy you.

STASIEK

You think I’m lazy.

RACHMIEL

I didn’t say that.

STASIEK

Ha!

RACHMIEL

But you seem to have found a way to —

STASIEK (pre-empts)

Trust. Yes, I have.

RACHMIEL (snarky/envious)

Childlike faith. Like those days when I stood beneath my tateh’s tallis, hoping for a cookie.

STASIEK

Trust isn’t just for children, Rachmiel. Though it does become increasingly difficult over time.

RACHMIEL

Each year those six-hundred-thirteen commandments grow more terrifying as I draw closer to the moment when I will stand before God on my own. From Lesnichowka to Ruda-Huta to Chelm, the journey is lonely, and my fears turn into nightmares. Will I be invited to Messiah’s feast? Will God count me among the righteous souls? Will I ever make my tateh proud?

(Transition: STASIEK to TATEH)

[SOUND: SYNAGOGUE SERVICE]

Then one Sabbath, it’s here. My Bar Mitzvah.

[SOUND: SYNAGOGUE SERVICE slowly fades]

The familiar sounds of the weekly service grow distant as I step up to read from the Torah.

SCARF 20: TATEH pulls two yarmulkes from his pocket; gives one to RACHMIEL and puts the other on himself, then places the tallis over RACHMIEL’s shoulders.

My tateh places his hands on my shoulders. And though he barely touches me, I sense the weight of accountability shift from his soul to mine.

TATEH (sotto voce)

Today you are a man.

SCARF 21: RACHMIEL takes off the tallis and wraps the scarf around his neck for the winter journey.

[SOUND: WIND]

RACHMIEL

It’s December when I arrive home from Warsaw to tell my parents about our dear Esther. Tateh looks much older as he opens the door.

TATEH (gasps)

Rachmiel? Is that Rachmiel? (momentary struggle, then) Come.

[SOUND: WIND OUT]

(TATEH and RACHMIEL embrace)

Oy, such a tragedy. We only heard today.

RACHMIEL (thinks he means Esther)

You heard?

TATEH

All the Jewish men of Chelm were marched to the riverbank and forced into the half-frozen water! The Russians on the other side — they think it’s an attack and start to shoot. The Germans shoot back. And the Jews? (sobs) The Jews are target practice.

(sees RACHMIEL’s expression and his torn lapel) Rachmiel? What is it? Who is it!!?

RACHMIEL

It’s . . . Esther.

TATEH

(Collapses into RACHMIEL’s arms. Cries in anguish, tears his lapel.)

Boruch Dayan haEmes. Blessed be the True Judge.

(Transition: TATEH to STASIEK)

RACHMIEL

We observe the traditions of grief. We cover the mirrors. Sit on low stools. We pray. We weep. And we remember. I walk into the kitchen where Esther always helped Mameh with the evening meal.

[SOUND: HAMMERING fades in and grows] (raises his voice to overcome the hammering)

I stand outside by the garden she planted and close my eyes to listen for the sound of her laughter. Instead, I hear hammering. Even though Warsaw is 150 miles away.

[SOUND: HAMMERING out suddenly.]

I welcome the unspoken truce between me and my tateh. And I, for my part, do what I can to be a less disappointing son. You know, Stasiek, I even risk my life for my mameh’s Shabbos chicken.

STASIEK

You risk your life?

RACHMIEL (lightening the moment)

My friend, you have never tasted my mameh’s chicken.

SCARF 22: RACHMIEL removes the scarf; makes it a wrapped-up chicken he carries under his arm.

One day I’m on my way home from a neighboring town with a chicken for Shabbos dinner. By then, traveling outside our village is a crime, but Stasiek, who can find a kosher chicken in Lesnichowka? And what is Shabbos without a chicken?

STASIEK

And a little schnapps!

RACHMIEL

You know, I think maybe you drink too much.

STASIEK (slurs his words)

Don’t you worry. I can hold my imaginary liquor.

RACHMIEL

So now I am walking along the back roads, carrying my chicken and trying to avoid every soldier I see, which is difficult because of how nearsighted I’ve become. Halfway home there’s an unpleasant encounter with a young man patrolling in town. But honestly, who can blame him? He’s just a soldier who wishes he was going home to his mama’s chicken in Leipzig or Berlin.

STASIEK (sarcastic)

Who can blame a soldier?

RACHMIEL

But a neighbor? Who has known me since the day I was born. A Christian neighbor who preaches the love of Jesus and the grace of God? I’m almost home when I run into Mr. Hübscher. The one who borrowed our chairs.

(Transition: STASIEK to MR. HÜBSCHER)

He’s standing outside his house. He’s wearing the uniform of the Nazi SS. He’s drunk. And he has a gun.

MR. HÜBSCHER (waving a gun)

Stop! Hold it right there!

RACHMIEL

Good evening, Mr. Hübscher. It’s me, Rachmiel!

MR. HÜBSCHER (still waving a gun)

I know who you are. You’re my filthy Jew neighbor. It doesn’t matter what you call yourself. A Jew is a Jew and you Jews are always scheming to cheat real Christians like me! Der Führer is finally going to get rid of all of you. (unsteady) And if you just stand still, I will do my part.

(MR. HÜBSCHER points and pulls the trigger; the gun clicks as RACHMIEL holds the chicken/scarf up as a shield.)

(Transition: MR. HÜBSCHER to STASIEK)

SCARF 22: RACHMIEL lifts up the chicken and checks his chest to be sure he isn’t shot, then unknots the scarf and puts it on.

RACHMIEL

Fortunately for me the gun is not loaded. But after such a narrow escape, Mameh un Tateh seem to find some peace with my belief in Jesus. They reason that if I am willing to risk my life for the Shabbos chicken, then maybe, Mameh says, in spite of everything, I have truly become a man. I show Tateh my official identification papers. Just like his, mine are stamped with the letter “J” for Jüde. So maybe, Tateh says, in spite of everything, I am not a goy.

STASIEK

Congratulations.

RACHMIEL

Funny. It’s taken my family longer to recognize that I’m still a Jew than it did our neighbor —

(holds up his fingers like a gun) Mr. Hübscher.

STASIEK

Or our other neighbor —

(poses with his finger under his nose like Hitler’s moustache)

Mr. Hitler.

So tell me. Whatever happened to your sister? The one in Warsaw?

RACHMIEL

Thank God. Rivka recovers and finds her way out before the ghetto is sealed. She returns to Lesnichowka, and for a brief moment, life almost feels . . . (searching for the word)

STASIEK

Normal?

RACHMIEL (nods)

Yes. She and I work on a local farm, so our family doesn’t starve. It’s the kind of “normal” any Jew in Poland would happily settle for. In fact, things become so normal —

STASIEK (detects something)

Yes?

RACHMIEL (leans in quietly)

Stasiek. Something happens. Something good, in spite of everything.

STASIEK

What?

RACHMIEL

You remember Reb Gershon?

(STASIEK doesn’t remember.)

The most highly respected melamed in all of Ruda-Huta?

(STASIEK still not sure.)

The one with the beautiful daughter?

STASIEK (aha!!)

Who was a foot taller than you.

RACHMIEL

When I was seven!

STASIEK

So?

RACHMIEL

Now, many years later, Yocheved — that’s her name — is all grown up. And so am I. And I’m told that she is interested . . .

STASIEK

Yes . . . ?

RACHMIEL (gotcha)

In Jesus.

STASIEK (disappointed at first)

Oh. (then realizes) Good.

RACHMIEL

But Yocheved is afraid to leave Ruda-Huta. And her mother, the Rebbetzin, is still not very excited about feeding me.

STASIEK

Though I doubt she’d take her tea kettle to Warsaw.

RACHMIEL

I press Yocheved to visit Lesnichowka. Mameh is happy to see someone in Esther’s empty chair. And after dinner, Yocheved and I read together from my little New Testament.

And . . . ?

STASIEK

(gets impatient with the slow telling of the story, picks up a bench and stands it up vertically)

RACHMIEL

(not in a hurry, he picks up the other bench and stands it up vertically)

And I begin to feel (looks for word) responsible for this fragile young woman . . .

STASIEK (moves his bench closer)

Oooh, he’s feeling “responsible.”

RACHMIEL (moves his bench closer)

And I decide that this feeling might be a bit like — love.

STASIEK (finally)

Thank God.

SCARF 24: RACHMIEL and STASIEK hold the scarf up with two hands each as a wedding chuppah in the space between the vertical benches.

RACHMIEL

After midnight, in the presence of a few brave souls, Yocheved and I recite our vows.

(he stomps on an imaginary glass)

STASIEK

Mazel tov! Mazel tov!

[SOUND: KLEZMER JEWISH WEDDING MUSIC]

SCARF 25: STASIEK whips the chuppah/scarf from RACHMIEL’s hands and dances around with it, waving it around, encircling RACHMIEL who is smiling. STASIEK sings along (li-li-li) with the wedding music (like a drunk uncle.) It is a moment of emotional release until he notices RACHMIEL has become still, somber, staring. STASIEK stops singing along, breathing heavily from exertion, STASIEK self-consciously gathers the scarf to his chest and looks at RACHMIEL, waiting to hear more of the story. STASIEK puts on the scarf.

[SOUND: KLEZMER JEWISH WEDDING MUSIC fades]

RACHMIEL

(continues to stare; all joy drained out of him)

Three days later, the illusion of normal is shattered as soldiers knock on the door and drag my new bride from our home to a labor camp nearby.

[SOUND: TRAINS MOVING ON TRACKS]

(RACHMIEL and STASIEK pull the vertical benches closer together to become the crowded cattle car where they stand touching back-to-back, jiggling like they are on a train. They speak to one another over their downstage shoulder, toward the house.)

Not long after, trains packed with Jews begin rolling down the tracks alongside our village. They believe they are being relocated to a special Jewish colony in Poland.

STASIEK

It’s the same here. The Germans enter the ghetto and promise a lucky few a “place in the country, free from lice and disease.” Giddy people line up, with only minutes to gather their belongings. Soon we learn where they’ve been taken. And what awaits them at their destination.

(STASIEK and RACHMIEL look knowingly at one another, then put the benches back to where they were originally.)

[SOUND: TRAIN SOUNDS fades]

RACHMIEL

So, when Yocheved escapes from the labor camp, we don’t wait for another knock on the door. I kiss Mameh un Tateh goodbye as Rivka and a handful of others join our little community-in-hiding in the woods. When the knock finally comes, my tateh is too weak to travel.

[SOUND: SINGLE GUNSHOT]

Mameh dies shortly after, in the nearby camp in Sobibor.

(tears his lapel)

Forgive me, Stasiek. I haven’t asked about your family.

STASIEK

Many went in the first deportation. To Treblinka. My parents succumbed to the typhus, and my grandfather refused his rations and insisted they be given to the children.

RACHMIEL

Your grandfather was a righteous man.

STASIEK

Inside these walls I have seen everything. Those who risk their lives and others who happily steal bread from the blind.

RACHMIEL

Then tell me it doesn’t strain your faith to breaking.

STASIEK

Rachmiel, it’s not that I’ve never questioned. It’s that I’ve never found an answer.

RACHMIEL

Yet you trust.

STASIEK

Yes.

RACHMIEL

Then why is it so hard for me?

STASIEK

There you go again with that bone. Consulting the sages. Listening to those ancient voices arguing back and forth.

RACHMIEL

I’m trying to understand.

STASIEK

Tomorrow morning you will find your way out of here. And when the ghetto falls — in a day or a week — you’ll report what you have seen and heard. Not what you understand.

RACHMIEL

But I am meant to be here.

STASIEK

Rachmiel Frydland is meant to be many things but trapped inside these walls is not one of them. You have papers, and a chance to walk through those gates.

RACHMIEL

But Stasiek, I am so tired of hiding. Tired of living. Tired of trying to make sense of any of it. (idea!) Why don’t you go? Take the papers and walk through the gates yourself.

(RACHMIEL reaches into his inside breast pocket, STASIEK puts his hand on top of RACHMIEL’s hand, outside the coat, to stop him)

STASIEK

Rachmiel. You know I can’t.

(pats RACHMIEL’s hand twice, smiles)

RACHMIEL

(looks in STASIEK’s eyes, touches his face)

But you’re here. I see you.

STASIEK (turns away)

It’s too late for me. But not for you.

RACHMIEL

Why am I condemned to live?

STASIEK

Because God knows you’ll need a lifetime to answer all these impossible questions of yours. Meanwhile, you can testify on behalf of the ones who can no longer speak for themselves. To describe our sufferings. To honor our courage. To remember our names.

(then lightens it up)

You can even explain to the world how Chelm was home to —

RACHMIEL (still defensive)

Many of Poland’s great yeshivas. Though I fear the foolish stories will long outlive the facts.

STASIEK

Then tell the story of Ogrodowa Street where, in spite of everything, you might have actually heard something that resembled the voice of God.

RACHMIEL

Though it didn’t sound anything like Caruso.

STASIEK

Now. Before the sun comes up. Tell me more about this wife of yours.

RACHMIEL

When I think of Yocheved I picture that shy girl peeking out from behind Reb Gershon. And all I want is to give her the life she dreams of. In the woods I make her a promise.

(Transition: STASIEK to YOCHEVED.)

SCARF 26: YOCHEVED uses the scarf to hood her face as RACHMIEL puts his arm around YOCHEVED.

“When the war is over, we will visit your mameh’s sister.”

YOCHEVED

In Warsaw!?

RACHMIEL

It’s the biggest, most beautiful city in Poland. You can walk from sunrise to sunset and never see it all.

YOCHEVED

Rachmiel, you have seen so much of the world, and I know only Ruda-Huta.

RACHMIEL

Then we will go anywhere you wish. Here. Come closer. I’m used to sleeping on the ground. Do you remember what I told you my teacher said that morning in Chelm when I was late for class?

YOCHEVED, RACHMIEL

(YOCHEVED repeats by rote as RACHMIEL says it quietly along with her)

“Sleep on the hard earth, live the life of affliction, yet keep toiling in the study of the Torah and it shall be well with you in the world to come.”

RACHMIEL

You, my wife, are not only beautiful, but clever as well.

YOCHEVED

Rachmiel, will it really be well with us in the world to come?

RACHMIEL

We will eat the great wild ox of Jewish legend. And drink the wine the Almighty set apart from the sixth day of creation.

YOCHEVED (tired, yawns)

Good. That’s good. But maybe tomorrow, just a piece of bread.

(RACHMIEL kisses YOCHEVED on the head.)

SCARF 27: YOCHEVED walks to the side of the stage, not dropping her hood till RACHMIEL begins to speak.

STASIEK transitions into the DRUNKEN PEASANT, and ties the scarf around his waist as a sash.

[SOUND: WIND, DOGS BARKING)

RACHMIEL (to STASIEK)

The next day, my sister Rivka is betrayed by a farmer and “persuaded” to reveal the location of our spot in the woods. In the raid, Yocheved and I are separated. But as soon as it’s light, I sneak into town to learn what’s become of her and the others. I overhear a couple of drunk peasants.

(RACHMIEL crouches behind a bench) [SOUND: WIND/DOGS fades]

DRUNKEN PEASANT (laughing)

Yeah, there were two of them. One was old but the younger one — (lewd sound) you know what I mean. But those SS, geez, they’re all business. I don’t know how you just stand there when something like that is handed over on a platter and say, “Nein, danke.” So, I turn over the Jew bitches to the commandant and collect my reward — not as much as you might think. Then I reach out for one last little squeeze. But that damn Nazi bastard grabs my arm and twists it. Hard!!

(acts it out on his own twisted arm)

Stares at me with those steely eyes they all got and points his gun right in my face. What the hell? Right? Finally, he lets go.

(drops his arm and rubs his wrist)

They tell the women to kneel, and I hear the younger one say, “Please” and I think, well, there ya go, finally ready to trade a little something for your life. But then she says, “Can we have a moment to pray?” (laughs) Pray!? You can sure as hell bet that I wouldn’t waste my last moment . . . anyway. Then the strangest thing — I swear to God. I hear her say “Jesus.” Yeah, she was definitely a Jew. Shut up, I know a Jew when I see one. Anyway, I grab my money and head outside.

[SOUND: TWO DELIBERATE SHOTS]

And I think to myself, what a waste of a beautiful woman.

(PEASANT grabs his crotch and walks off laughing to a corner upstage, to give RACHMIEL all the space.)

(RACHMIEL boils and slowly gets up from behind the bench, pushing/kicking one bench then the other angrily out of the way.)

RACHMIEL

That beautiful woman was my wife! I want to grab this vulgar, despicable animal and rip out his tongue for defiling her precious memory. A vile, heartless creature who has no problem trading the life of an innocent woman for “not as much as you might think.” But I am relieved that my sweet Yocheved has spent her last cold, wet, filthy night in those miserable woods. The same woods where I return, because I don’t know where else to go.

(rails at God with his back to audience)

You! You have taken everyone. My sisters, my tateh, my mameh and now (breaks down) my Yocheved. There’s nothing left but my useless, disappointing life. So here!!!! Take it. Take it, it’s yours.

(spins around toward the audience, to unseen enemies, stomps around making noise, not caring if he’s found)

And you! You mamzers! Murderers! Come! Come and get me. Just come! Come find me! Find meeeee!

(drops to his knees)

Please. Pleeeease!

(breaks down, sobbing)

(RACHMIEL very, very slowly collects himself, sniffs, shudders, deep breathes, stands. Finally straightens up and prepares to go on. Stoic.)

In the morning I walk out of the woods. No one stops me. Sometimes a farmer offers me a potato or a piece of bread. To be honest, I hardly remember. All I know is that I’m going to Warsaw, like I promised Yocheved. Weeks later, as wildflowers bloom along the road, I enter the city. The hammering has stopped. The gates of the ghetto are guarded by men with machine guns. And all I can think about is getting inside.

Then suddenly, there on the street, an old Russian pastor I once knew calls my name.

(Transition STASIEK to RUSSIAN PASTOR)

SCARF 28: RUSSIAN PASTOR enters, wearing the scarf loosely around his neck.

(The greeting reprises the opening scene.)

RUSSIAN PASTOR

Rachmiel Frydland? Is that you?

(RACHMIEL turns, surprised, fearful, relieved, but with a sense of the night having come full circle.)

Such a coincidence that we’ve run into each other. But maybe God has arranged it. Who knows?

(pulls RACHMIEL aside conspiratorially)

It just so happens that I have with me a set of forged documents. They’re for a man in the ghetto — the last remaining survivor from that old fellowship of yours on Ogrodowa Street. But sadly, I learned today that I am too late. He died last night, (reaches into his pocket) so clearly God has meant these papers for you.

(RUSSIAN PASTOR hands RACHMIEL the documents which RACHMIEL opens to STASIEK’s photo as RUSSIAN PASTOR looks on. RACHMIEL takes a small gasp, then looks at the RUSSIAN PASTOR who says:)

And this — (removes the scarf) — also for you —

SCARF 28: RUSSIAN PASTOR removes the scarf and loops it around RACHMIEL’s neck a certain way. (NOTE: This is exactly how the scarf appears on RACHMIEL at open.) Then he gently grabs the ends of the scarf, giving it a loving tug with both hands.

You knew him. Yes?

(RUSSIAN PASTOR exits. Full of emotion, tears, RACHMIEL watches him go. He looks at the photo again, then over his shoulder toward the bench where STASIEK had sat. Looks back at the passport. Nods.

RACHMIEL

Stasiek Eisenberg. Yes. (looks up) I knew him.

(RACHMIEL puts the papers into his breast pocket and tears his lapel. Takes a deep breath.)

Stasiek Eisenberg was a person of great faith. A credit to his family. An accomplished musician. And a man who loved his schnapps. Over the course of a chilly night in Warsaw, you might say, I came to know him well.

(RACHMIEL taps his breast pocket)

This is the only photo that remains from that time, though I wish there were more. I wish there were pictures of what beautiful women my sisters might have become. Pictures of the grandchildren my mameh un tateh would have loved and spoiled.

(RACHMIEL goes to the podium and writes.)

I begin to write down the names of the ones who were lost. Who died of starvation. Who were marched into the frozen river. Children thrown from windows. Gassed. Buried alive. Drowned. Shot. Tortured. Murdered in every way a twisted mind can conceive. I fill page after page with those I remember and I wrack my poor brain to recall the ones that I have, God forgive me, forgotten. In the middle of the night their faces flood my sleep. Students, teachers. Rabbis, pastors. Sisters, parents. Wives. In my struggle, I turn to the book of Job.

(Italics are a refrain. Underlines are downbeats.)

“And there came a messenger unto Job and said, the oxen were plowing, and the asses were feeding. And the Sabeans fell upon them and took them away. And I alone have escaped to tell you.

“There came another and said, the fire of God is fallen from heaven and burned up the sheep and consumed them. And I alone have escaped to tell you.

“And another said, the Chaldeans brought three bands, and fell upon the camels and have carried them away. And I alone have escaped to tell you.

“Your sons and daughters were in their eldest brother’s house and behold there came a great wind from the wilderness and the house fell upon them and they are dead. And I alone have escaped to tell you.

So this, as best as I understand it, is the story that I alone have escaped to tell. I can’t explain it, but I have it on very good authority that that is NOT my job.

SCARF 29: RACHMIEL takes off the scarf from his neck and dons it as a tallis.

And each year, for as long as God gives me life, I can do what I was born to do and fulfill my tateh’s deepest desire.

STASIEK (as TATEH)

(from the back of the hall or offstage)

A son to say kaddish for me when I’m gone.

(RACHMIEL turns away from the audience.)

[SOUND: RECORDING OF A GROUP RECITING THE KADDISH
IN ARAMAIC PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND AS RACHMIEL
RECITES PART OF IT IN ENGLISH)

RACHMIEL

Glorified and sanctified be God’s great name throughout the world which He created according to His will. May He establish His kingdom in your lifetime and during the life of the entire House of Israel, speedily and soon . . . and let us say, Omeyn.

(turns to face audience as the recording gradually fades to out when RACHMIEL finishes)

May the one who creates peace in His celestial heights, create peace for us, for all Israel, and for the whole world . . . and let us say Omeyn.

[Exits to “ZOG NIT KEYNMOL” — The Partisans’ Song]

(END OF PLAY)

We welcome any group who may be interested in producing this play  to contact Joyce at admin@mjti.com, for further information. We also have a Polish translation. Stipends may be available for those who qualify.