Democracy in America

Scene 1:

Place:

Plymouth Colony, 1621

Characters:

Al Tokeville

Anna Tokeville – wife of Al

Kelly Tokeville – daughter of Al and Hannah, not very bright, gets around with the guys of Plymouth

Little James Tokeville – son of Al and Hannah, has little success with the women of Plymouth

Squanto – Native American, next door neighbor to Al, speaks perfect English

Susanna – Mayflower passenger, English, married to Squanto

(Al and daughter Kelly are sitting on the couch in the living room of the family’s home. )

Kelly: Daddy, why do we have to live way over here in Plymouth? I thought you said we were just going for a brief fishing trip when we left on that ship – what was it? The Mudflapper? And now we are so far away from the fast food restaurants that you used to could ride up to on your pony and go through the ride-through, and go around with boys like into back alleys and bedrooms – I mean – into beautiful parks. Now, over here, the whole place is a park. The boys are so spurious, or something. They are so, I don’t know – separate.

Al: Well, look punkin’, you have remember that we are Separatists, Brownists. And probably several other -ists. Though I’m not really sure what any of them are. And many of us have come over here as indentured servants.

Kelly: Oh Daddy, I don’t what anything to do with wearing dentures.

Al: Now punkin’, you’re going to have smarten up sometime if you are going to grow into a perfect Plymouth woman. For you see, women in our society have to know how to fix all the meals – right here in the lovely home (he waves an arm around to indicate this home). And raise the family. And oversee the health of the community, Educate future generations. And bolster the economy by planting all the corn, and harvesting the crops,

Kelly: Well, Daddy, what do the men do?

Al: Well, punkin’ we vote. Well, we vote as we are told to by the governor. And then we go bowling.

(Wife Anna walks into the room.)

Anne: Oh Al. My precious wattle cleaner of a husband, could you do me a big favor.

Al: What’s that – my somewhat under-educated, not-well-endowed perfect imitator of a lovely wife?

Anne: Could you drop dead please?

Al: Well now, my second-class citizen of a a wife, I probably will do that someday. How soon were you looking for me to do that?

Anne: Well, next Monday.

Al: Why so soon.

Anne: You see, Al, by being a woman – a married woman – I have no rights. Lots of responsibilities. But if you die, then as a widow I can control the money – and have a ball with it if I want. I will control all the land that you have so far neglected to derive any benefit from. And in fact, I will have control over your entire estate. Although I guess that every time I glance around the living room I can see your entire estate.

Kelly: Oh, Mom. You are so smart! Then you won’t need to sleep with boys like I have to do. Ooops, I mean… um… pray with boys. In church. While the minister looks down on us from his pulp wood or whatever you call it.

Al: Now Anne, you still won’t be able to vote! You won’t have the governor to come by and tell you how to vote. What a perfect system it is when you have somebody knowledgeable like to governor to guide your choices. And he never tries to tell a man how he should bowl. Or how many beers he should drink.

Kelly: But Dad, you’re not so smart. I mean Mom won’t have to vote, so she can spend all her time just having fun!

Al: (Pointing to Anne) And you won’t be able to go out camping with the men when we go out to fight the Indians. (A knock on the door. Squanto and Susanna enter.) Speaking of Indians...

Susanna: Al, you jerk. You are running down the neighborhood.

Squanto: Honey, what can you expect. Al is just a wattle cleaner.

Susanna: Al, the wattle and daub of which your home is built is full of holes. And looks decrepit. I thought there was some kind of building code.

Squanto: And I’ve been re-reading the Mayflower Compact to see if you people have some kind of building code. But I couldn’t find anything about one in that document. Why, even in Indian villages there are standards that one’s tent must meet before one is granted an occupancy permit.

Kelly: Well I’ve occupied a few of the bedrooms around the village and no one asked me for any kind of permit.