The Comedians

Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello.

All good things come to an end, eh?

I get off here in Haiti.

We are going to Santo Domingo.

I shall miss our little sessions

of gin rummy.

Yes.

- You owe me 35 bucks, old man.

- My wife.

You take it in pesetas?

- No dollars?

- No.

Any old currency is good between pals.

Fifty-four to the dollar.

- I make it 1,890 pesetas.

- Here. Take 2,000.

Anything to oblige.

Yes?

- Come in, Major.

- There you are, Brown.

- Join us in a glass.

- Thanks. I'll have to be nippy, though.

I haven't finished my packing,

and some of the top brass

will be waiting for me on shore.

- With soda?

- Just a splash.

I brought you back the bits and pieces

you lent me for the concert.

You certainly took us all in

with your conjuring tricks.

Oh, what about him?

He was in magnificent voice.

I wish I understood Dutch.

If I'm not up at the hotel too late, old man,

don't lock me out.

It means I'm taking tiffin

with Colonel Biche.

- You know the Colonel?

- No, I don't mix in such high circles.

I'll bring him up sometime for a drink

and introduce you.

Is this yours, Major?

Oh, my goodness, yes.

Oh, thanks. Oh, I wouldn't lose that

for all the tea in China.

It was with me in Burma in '42 and '3,

the bad years.

"Major H.O. Jones, 5 Corps, lmphal."

Well, I had that added after the war

for old times' sake.

Well, mustn't keep the nobs waiting.

See you at the hotel.

Waste not, want not.

Cheerio, purser.

See you on your return trip if I'm still here.

If you can't be good, be careful.

- You counted the bags, dear?

- Yes, four.

- And the cartons?

- Twenty-three.

Good.

Well, here we go.

You know, this could be the beginning

of our greatest achievement.

No, no, no, not tourist.

- I'm here on business.

- Looking for someone?

I'm here by special invitation, you see.

I expected to be met.

- Your name?

- Jones. Major Jones.

Met? By who?

By Colonel Biche, your Chief of Staff.

Colonel Biche?

- May I see the invitation?

- By all means.

Please, come with me.

- Where to?

- My office. It is just near.

- My letter.

- You shall have it back.

This way.

- My luggage.

- We will see to that.

No service is too much

for a friend of Colonel Biche.

First-class voyage.

Oh, look, dear,

Major Jones has found his friends.

Oh, good.

Sea like a pond,

very pleasant companions.

What the hell is this?

Who are these thugs?

I am Captain Concasseur,

and these thugs

are the President's special police,

Tontons Macoutes.

They've received very unfair publicity

in your British journals.

They'll have worse after this.

I demand to see my ambassador.

You have no ambassador, Major Jones.

We expelled him three months ago.

This is Michel.

I always have him present

at interrogations.

- What do you want to know?

- There's no hurry.

First, undress.

- Undress?

- Undress.

You're going a bit too far.

You simply can't strip a brother officer

starkers in front of the other ranks.

I mean, it's bloody outrageous.

Michel.

Welcome to Haiti.

Hello, Petit Pierre.

How did you know I was aboard?

The eyes and ears of the press,

Monsieur Brown.

How good to see you back in Haiti.

- How were the bright lights of Broadway?

- Too bright.

Are we still blacked out

every evening here in Port-au-Prince?

You will find nothing has changed,

Monsieur Brown, nothing.

You have just time

to reach your hotel before dark.

Petit Pierre, do me a favor.

There's an appointment I have to keep.

You see my bags through the customs

and have them sent to the hotel?

It's a pleasure, Monsieur Brown.

Give me your tickets.

Thank you.

That's eight, dear.

How long you stay?

I live here.

Where's Major Jones?

He's a guest in my hotel.

- This is his hat.

- He was met.

Petit Pierre, would you have that

sent up with my bags? He'll miss it.

- How long you've been away?

- Three months.

- New York?

- Yes.

- Business?

- Yes.

What business?

I was trying to sell my hotel.

There were no takers.

- No?

- No takers at all.

Haitian stocks are very low.

Anything else you want to know?

Monsieur Brown is a great lover of Haiti

and a personal friend.

- I'll call for this later.

- Okay.

Tell me, have you any...

Have you any news for my paper?

They've invented a new toothpaste

in the States that tastes like a dry martini.

No kidding.

And I've snared three passengers

for my hotel.

Tourists back in Haiti?

That is news indeed.

Monsieur, give me five cents.

Five cents, Monsieur.

Give me five cents. Five cents, Monsieur.

Five cents.

One of them is a Major Jones.

- Major Jones?

- J-O-N-E-S.

He fought the Japs in Burma.

If you want colorful stories, he's your man.

I've heard at least 100.

And your other guests?

Mr. And Mrs... Now there's a tidbit for you.

Smith ran as presidential candidate

in 1948 against Truman.

- Taxi!

- Pardon, Monsieur Brown.

Did you say presidential candidate?

I've a bad memory. 1948. Dewey?

Well, I'd never heard of Smith, either,

but it appears he ran

on the vegetarian ticket.

- An eccentric!

- He has great plans for Haiti.

He has an introduction

to the Minister of Social Welfare.

- Taxi! Can you stop these fellows?

- Yes, yes.

Monsieur Brown,

did you mean Monsieur Philipot?

Yes, he's still the Minister, isn't he?

I think it'd be better if I went back

and helped with your friends.

They do not know Haiti as you do.

Thank you.

Warn them about the blackout,

and tell them, if I'm delayed,

Joseph will take care of them.

Okay.

- Trianon Hotel?

- No, just drop me at the Columbus Statue.

Medicine?

- Dear, you're the linguist.

- No, pas medicine.

Salesman?

This is Yeastrel.

Barmene.

Slippery Elm food.

- Selling?

- No, pour manger.

Health.

Marijuana?

Monsieur Smith, Madame Smith,

how very good to meet you.

Monsieur Brown has sent me.

- How do you do?

- Any help I can give?

This good man

doesn't seem to understand very well.

He seems to think we're selling marijuana.

Selling? Of course not.

I understand. For strictly personal use.

Just give him $5.

"I'm the Haitian flag. One and indivisible."

Signed Papa Doc, father of his people.

He lives for them, and they die for him.

Stop here.

Here.

My God, it's you!

It's really you.

- Three months.

- Three years.

Three decades.

Why did you take the boat?

Why not the plane?

Four wasted days.

I wanted to give you time

to read my letter and decide.

Decide what?

Whether you wanted to go on like this

with me.

Oh, you fool.

That's my answer.

What's yours?

Colonel Biche is going to know of this.

I'm here at his personal invitation.

Speak to him. He's here.

Voila votre Colonel Biche!

Where does your husband think you are?

Playing gin rummy, like three months ago.

- Does he believe you?

- I don't know.

He never asks questions.

My darling, what time is it?

I don't know. My watch has stopped.

Did he comfort you while I was away?

I can be faithful for a few months,

except in my dreams.

I was faithful, too.

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