| B.A.N.G Gang |

The B.A.N.G. Gang — ACT 4: Scene 4

"Why’re your friends lookin’ so sad? Maybe I should let them have turns to push the dollies"

 

Characters:

  • ARON, a slow-moving fellow who likes to take life easy
  • BORUCH, trying to cope with a big sister who always knows better
  • NOSSON, clever and articulate, often talks in italics to make a point
  • GERSHON, creative and quick to think of new ideas

GERSHON: Three cheers for the B.A.N.G. Gang! You know, Mr. Langsam called my father to tell him what an amazing job we did the other day. My dad was beaming!

NOSSON: Good old Mr. Langsam! Aron, you were spot-on in realizing that Mr. Langsam wanted to give as well as to receive. Yum, that lekach was really delicious, huh?

[silence]

NOSSON: Aron? You there? [mutters to himself in surprise] He was there a minute ago.

ARON: Just went to cut myself a piece of chocolate cake. A fella’s gotta eat, you know. Hang on while I make myself comfy on the couch.

[An unfamiliar voice is heard, complaining bitterly.]

BORUCH: Who’s that?

GERSHON: It’s our Polish cleaner, Zofia. She turned up again out of the blue. She’s annoyed that we’ve run low on cleaning supplies.

NOSSON: What’re you gonna do?

GERSHON: Dunno. My father’s at work, and my mother can’t get out now.

BORUCH: Hey, why don’t we go to the store, on a B.A.N.G. Gang helping mission?

GERSHON: [long pause] I was hoping you wouldn’t suggest that.

NOSSON: Why not? We’re super shoppers! Just ask Mr. Langsam.

GERSHON: [lowers his voice to a whisper] You see, Dobra Baila is hanging around the door. If she sees me going out she’ll insist on coming along — with her pink tricycle.

 

[There is a deep silence; the memories of their ill-fated biking trip with Dobra Baila are still fresh.]

BORUCH: We’ll go on foot. Tell her it’s a no-bike outing. She’ll probably hang around waiting for someone else to take her out.

[Gershon agrees. The boys arrange to meet shortly, as the cleaner is sounding increasingly irate. Gershon and Nosson are there within minutes; Aron arrives late, as usual, brushing cake crumbs off his shirt.]

ARON: Mmm. Great cake. Hey, where’s Gershon? He’s usually first.

[The boys look around, only to see a sight that fills them with despair. Gershon is walking toward them, reluctantly pushing a dolls’ stroller, and accompanied by a small, pigtailed girl.]

[Enter Dobra Baila]: C’mon! Faster!

GERSHON: Look, I think this is a bad idea. Why d’we need to bring your dollies? I’m taking them home.

DOBRA BAILA: If you do dat, I’ll scream and scream and scream.

GERSHON: Okay, okay. Let’s get to the store already.

DOBRA BAILA: Why’re your friends lookin’ so sad? Maybe I should let them have turns to push the dollies.

GERSHON: [hastily] No, they’re fine really, they’re just a bit — uh, tired. How about you push the dollies?

DOBRA BAILA: [assuming a pitiful expression] I’m also tired.

GERSHON: [hopefully] Maybe you wanna go back home and rest?

DOBRA BAILA: [decisively] Nah, not dat sort of tired.

[They’ve now reached the shop. Gershon is too embarrassed to enter with the doll’s stroller. Nosson speaks up]: I’ll go in. Just tell me what to get.

GERSHON: Gosh, I forgot to take the list with me. I’d better call home. Zofia? It’s Gershon. I’m at the store… Yes, I know, you need cleaning supplies pronto… What should I get?

[Gestures to Nosson to write it down.]

GERSHON: Kistka for cleaning? [shrugs] Uh huh. And Fay Ree for washing dishes? Okay, bye.

NOSSON: [mumbling to himself] I sure hope the shopkeeper knows what these weird-sounding cleaning products are.

[Nosson hands the list to the frazzled shopkeeper, who tosses a couple of items into a bag and hands it to him. The boys make their way back home, Gershon hoping desperately they won’t meet anyone they know on the way.]

[Enter Zofia, who greets them with a scowl and an outstretched hand. She pulls out the first item from the bag and stares at it with a scowl]: Huh? This kishka, this no Kistka. [Pulling out the second item]: This flame-baked pizza, no Fay Ree. [Her face darkens]: I no clean kitchen wit kishka and pizza. I tell your Mama you makin’ games wit me!

To be continued

Polish vocabulary:

Kistka — spray

 

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 828)

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