Carla Cackowski
GOODMAN CLANCY, 30s to 60s
GOODMAN CLANCY, a Pilgrim, speaks privately to his wife in front of a wigwam.
GOODMAN CLANCY Now here this, Goody Clancy. If I fail to negotiate food plentiful enough for our family and community, all of us are fated to starve to death. Make no mistake, wife, I vow to secure a delicious feast from the natives.
[The natives approach.]
Good morrow, Chief Tomahay. Ah, yes, this is mine wife, Goody Clancy. And yours? Squaw? For serious? Squaw. Interesting name. Very . . . native-y. The pleasure is ours.
[GOODMAN CLANCY steps forward to welcome Squaw. She cowers from him.]
Forgive me. I didn’t mean to scare ye, Squaw. Ye have never seen my kind up close.
[GOODMAN CLANCY elbows the Chief.]
Only but briefly while raping and pillaging your tribe, ay?
[GOODMAN CLANCY reacts to his wife hitting his arm.]
A joke! [Clears throat.] Apologies. That was inappropriate. I’m nervous. Moving on! I have called ye here, Chief Tomahay, because mine community is scared. Bellies empty. Nutrition denied. Festive dinner parties cancelled—Chief Tomahay, we are starving to death! I have seen your majestic crops. Might we negotiate a trade? Yes, yes, we get it. Thou can provide for yourself. No need to rub it in. But is there nothing ye can think of that we could trade?
Shoes? Shoes. Really? Okey dokey. Shoes. Ye are in luck! For mine wife’s feet are adorned with a sole of special leather from the other side of the world. Well, England, of course. What did thou expect me to say? France? Yuck!
Come on, Goody Clancy. Give me your shoes. Yes, yes, I know, ye need shoes, but I need my shoes even more. I am the man, for goodness sake . . . I have hunting and gathering to do in these shoes!
[GOODMAN CLANCY hands Goody’s shoes to the Chief and is given a sack of potatoes in return.]
Oh, heavenly day! Potatoes! Many blessings on your tribe, Chief Tomahay! Unfortunately, potatoes do not a feast make. Chief, perhaps there is something else your tribe desires? Well, what sort of white man would I be if I did not push my luck?
Shoes? Again? More shoes. Really? [Whispers to wife.] Wife, does thou have any more shoes? [Rolls eyes.] Oh, fine. Here. Take mine.
[GOODMAN CLANCY takes off his own shoes and hands them to the Chief. He is given another sack in return.]
Corn. Yum yum. Indeed. Many blessings, Chief.
Mayhaps ye have some protein? Any meat? Oh, good! What would ye like to trade? Please don’t say it . . . really? Shoes? Again? But you’ve got such nice moccasins adorning your feet. Our shoes are zero in ways of fashion. Look at the tassels thou has on those things!
Okay, okay. Fine. Ye want shoes . . . Chief Tomahay, I am seriously in lack of shoes of the human variety at the moment, but my horse—what do ye say about horse shoes? Yes? Yes!
[The Chief hands GOODMAN CLANCY a bird for trade.]
A turkey! I prefer chicken, but traders can’t be choosers.
Well done, everyone! Look what good can come of this life when one sets aside their values and works toward a common goal of feeding mine community’s mouth-holes.
Chief Tomahay, ye have been very kind. So kind, in fact, ye should join us for a feast to celebrate our good fortunes.
Thou would rather stab thouself with a spear than break bread with a white man? Wow. That’s a lot of judgment, Chief. Come now, Goody Clancy. We have finished our business with the natives.
[GOODMAN CLANCY grabs his wife’s arm to usher her away.]
Thou cannot even begin to understand how hard our lives have been. Do not judge me until ye walk a day in mine shoes!
[He turns to leave, then quickly turns back.]
Pardon me. I did not realize how quickly mine toes would freeze in this weather. Might I borrow some moccasins for the walk home?