Broken Necks/Lenin and Wilson Talk Their New Language on Doorstep of Valhalla
The New Ones sit on the doorstep of Valhalla. After their deaths the New Ones make a long trip. And they rest for a time on the doorstep before entering Valhalla.
There sits a man with a short beard. He stares calmly out of the sky. Another man with along face approaches. The long-faced one stops at the step on which the short-bearded one sits. After a pause he spedks.
The Long-Faced One: You are Nikolai Lenin.
The Short-Bearded One: Who?
The Long-Faced One: Nikolai Lenin, the bolshevik premier.
The Short-Bearded One: Perhaps.
The Long-Faced One: Strange you do not recognize me. You must have seen my picture often. It was printed more times than yours. I am Woodrow Wilson. I have had along trip. Is this a place to sit down? Yes, you are Lenin, I recognized you from far away. What are you doing?
The Short-Bearded One: One does only one thing here. One rests. And forgets.
The Long-Faced One: Perhaps you are forgetting the trouble you caused on earth.
The Short-Bearded One: Did I cause trouble? Where?
The Long-Faced One: In Russia. You did something to the Russians.
The Short-Bearded One: Russia—Russians? When I was a boy I went to a place with my grandfather. There were men in black boots and women in red and white dresses. They danced? Perhaps you have seen them, too? No. What trouble was there?
The Long-Faced One: [He stares out of the sky with perplexed eyes] I don’t remember at the moment. But there was trouble of some sort.
The Short-Bearded One: Are you a Russian, Mr. —excuse me, your name? I forget.
The Long-Faced One: Woodrow Wilson. It is dizzy up here, is it not? No, I am not a Russian. I come from France, Lenin.
The Short-Bearded One: And my name, you say, is Lenin? Hm, it does not sound like anything—Lenin...Lenin. Did you cause trouble in France?
The Long-Faced One: Let me see. It was not France. It was somewhere else. There was a great deal of trouble.
The Short-Bearded One: Tell me. What was it happened?
The Long-Faced One: Let me see. I was thinking of you as I came here. And of others. We had a great deal of trouble, but it seems to have passed out of my mind. Do you recall a place named America?
The Short-Bearded One: No.
The Long-Faced One: Perhaps it was America I was from and not France.
The Short-Bearded One: You are tired, my friend. A moment ago you said you were a Russian. Now you speak of other things. It is confusing to remember what one has dreamed. Yesterday there was a man sitting beside me and weeping. When I asked him why he wept, he answered he had forgotten the reason for his weeping.
The Long-Faced One: I wept, too, as I came here. What was I saying about Russia?
The Short-Bearded One: You were telling me they wore black boots and red and white dresses. But it is not important.
The Long-Faced One: No. Something else. Let me see. Oh, yes, there was a war.
The Short-Bearded One: A war? Where?
The Long-Faced One: It is hard to say. There was a great deal of trouble.
[A group of figures have gathered about the two talkers. ]
A Figure Speaks: You, with the long face. You have just come. Tell me where you have come from, and what is this thing of noise I have forgotten?
The Short-Bearded One: Yes. Tellus. There is a story in my head and it keeps falling asleep.
A Figure Speaks: Life. Tell us about it. What isit? A dream still haunts me.
The Short-Bearded One: Tell us, friend. There was a little dream—
The Long-Faced One: It is hard. I knew a little while ago. But now I seem to have lost something. There was a great deal of trouble—
The Figures All Speak: Yes. This trouble, tell us of it. What was it happened? The noisy dream. You have just come from it. You will remember something. Think.
The Long-Faced One: I don’t know. There was some trouble somewhere, and I was init. But it has slipped my mind. May I not sit here with you in silence for a time? Look. There comes one way down the road. He is putting on a sword and helmet. He is weeping and covering his face. Wait—I know who he is. He is a Kaiser, and he had something to do with the trouble. When he arrives we will ask him to tell us.
[They sit and stare at the dim figure moving slowly toward them.]
The Short-Bearded One Whispers: What did you say was my name?
The Long-Faced One: Your name? Let me see. I forget. Yes, I forget your name.
[The Short-Bearded One rises and walks to the towering gate of the Hall. The gate opens and with a smile at those waiting on the doorstep, he steps across the threshhold and vanishes.]