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  THE TOBACCO TASTERS

  B. Zaragoza

  THE TOBACCO TASTERS

  Copyright © 2013 B. Zaragoza

  ISBN: 9781311021090

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to events as well as actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Melissa Muldoon

  Published By

  P.O. Box 211322

  Chula Vista, CA 91921

  SETTING:

  A tobacco tasting room in the Yelets Cigarette Factory

  Present Day Yelets, Russia.

  CHARACTERS:

  PETR - 50ish, gaunt, shockingly browned fingernails.

  AGATA - 50ish, wears red lacquered fingernails and a brown flowered dress taken out at the waist.

  SERGEI - A stout professional in smoke-stained suit.

  PETR sits at a long table that is smattered with balls of tobacco, spice glasses, and rolling paper. He blends bits of the tobacco and spices together, rolls the mixture into a cigarette, and lights it. He takes a long hard drag. Then he exhales, shoves his face into the resulting ball of smoke, and sniffs.

  SERGEI enters. Petr stands.

  SERGEI

  Has she arrived?

  PETR

  Not yet.

  SERGEI

  I’ve made the decision. I want you to tell her.

  PETR

  Me?

  SERGEI

  Indeed. Comrade, I leave you to your work.

  Sergei exits. Petr sits down, picks up a cigarette. He puffs then sniffs, puffs, sniffs. He crushes the cigarette into an ashtray, pops up from his seat, and paces the room.

  AGATA enters. She takes off her coat.

  AGATA

  Twenty minutes I waited. Twenty minutes at the spice shop. One would think Brezhnev was still alive.

  She darts a look at the table.

  AGATA (CONT’D)

  Gustav will be here any minute and this place is a stink.

  PETR

  Yes, yes. You need not worry about Gustav.

  Agata spots the crushed cigarette.

  AGATA

  A new flavor?

  She picks it up. Petr waits, anxious. She lights the cigarette and goes through the same exact spiel as Petr did just a moment ago: inhaling and holding her breath for a long time, then exhaling quickly, and throwing her face into the smoke.

  AGATA (CONT’D)

  Coriander, lemon rind, and a little peppermint.

  PETR

  Exactly.

  AGATA

  It’s no good. Take the lemon rind out and --

  PETR

  This is my project.

  AGATA

  What do you mean, your project? Even Putin isn’t so much of a capitalist. What is it with you today?

  PETR

  Nothing, nothing at all. Well, something.

  Agata sighs.

  AGATA

  The Curing Committee. Late on its shredding quota again.

  PETR

  The quota. Always concerned about the quota.

  AGATA

  You certainly are tight today. What’s happened?

  Petr motions for Agata to sit. He does the same, then takes a pack of Marlboro’s from his shirt pocket. He offers one to Agata.

  AGATA

  You know I don’t smoke. What is it?

  Petr lights the cigarette.

  PETR

  Gustav died.

  Agata lets this sink in.

  AGATA

  It can’t be.

  PETR

  The funeral will be held in the company chapel tomorrow.

  AGATA

  Gustav... dead?

  PETR

  Dead.

  AGATA

  He seemed so... so healthy. Well, other than the cough, but after thirty-seven years --

  PETR

  Thirty-six years.

  AGATA

  What was it? A shot through the right temple?

  PETR

  Gustav would never --

  AGATA

  Come to think of it, he had mentioned a doctor’s appointment. A brave man like Gustav --

  PETR

  But it wasn’t --

  AGATA

  Oh that nasty, horrible, unstoppable enemy. Lodging itself into his lungs. He got the diagnosis, but wouldn’t watch it destroy him. He’d rather die by his own hand.

  PETR

  He choked on a cabbage roll.

  AGATA

  A courageous man. He’s our -- cabbage roll?

  PETR

  He took supper alone last night.

  Pause.

  AGATA

  I could curse perestroika, him dying for lack of air. How will the Degustation Committee survive?

  PETR

  Sergei has some ideas.

  AGATA

  We are a body without a head.

  PETR

  Others are capable of taking his place.

  AGATA

  Others? What others? Who but Gustav knew how to blend tobacco delicate enough for the palette of a nursing mother, yet robust enough for the hardened soldier?

  PETR

  Oh for God’s sake, he was no Lenin!

  AGATA

  You never understood him.

  PETR

  Sergei is already considering candidates for the Chairmanship.

  AGATA

  New candidates? He’s not thinking of hiring an American?

  PETR

  No, no. Nothing like that. He has two candidates in mind.

  AGATA

  Internal candidates then?

  PETR

  Yes.

  AGATA

  Not Pavel! That rat has been waiting for this very moment.

  PETR

  Not Pavel.

  AGATA

  Then?

  PETR

  Me. Sergei chose me.

  AGATA

  You?

  PETR

  And why not?

  AGATA

  Nothing, nothing.

  Agata takes Petr’s hand and pats it.

  AGATA (CONT’D)

  My little Pipka is on his way up.

  PETR

  You don’t think I’m qualified?

  AGATA

  Of course you’re qualified, but --

  PETR

  But what?

  AGATA

  Seniority will likely play a role.

  PETR

  Seniority? My scrotum doesn’t hang down to my ankles yet, but I have twenty-nine years in the business.

  AGATA

  Twenty-eight years. Who is the other candidate?

  Petr hesitates.

  PETR

  You.

  Agata smiles to herself.

  PETR (CONT’D)

  Sergei wants us to come up with a new flavor for Mocno.

  AGATA

  I see. Something sweet perhaps. Nutmeg and sugar?

  PETR

  It’s a competition. Whoever presents the best flavor becomes Chairman.

  AGATA

  On second thought, nutmeg and sugar are not the best choice.

  PETR

  Agata!

  AGATA

  What?

  PETR

  You want to compete against me?

  AGATA

  Well?

  PETR

  What will people say?

  AGATA

  Oh let them talk.

  PETR

  But it’s not right for a husband to compete against his wife. Especially not for the most prestigious position in the Yelets factory. And what if I lose? None of the tasters
will respect me.

  AGATA

  Don’t exaggerate.

  PETR

  I think you should tell Sergei you’re backing out of the competition.

  AGATA

  You’re joking.

  PETR

  Tell him I will make the best Chairman.

  AGATA

  It’s out of the question. After all, I am the one who discovered more than two hundred new flavors.

  PETR

  You never worked your way through curing, paper, grading. I struggled my way to the Degustation Committee.

  AGATA

  I recommended you. Gustav thought you were a mere greeny. And before you caught my eye at the University, you couldn’t even tell the difference between air and flue cured leaf.

  PETR

  I spent more time than anyone in this tasting room. Here. Alone. Even when you were out with Gustav.

  AGATA

  Gustav was a man married to his work.

  PETR

  Who needed a porcelain doll to adorn his workplace.

  AGATA

  He recognized my talent.

  PETR

  Your talent for more than tasting tobacco.

  AGATA

  Don’t start! We both graduated from Moscow Tobacco University with distinctions and then --

  PETR

  I finished number one. You fell in love with me for that very reason. Until, of course, they sent me to the Curing Committee. Then you turned your face to Gustav.

  AGATA

  Your suspicious nature has always been a deficiency.

  PETR

  I was the one who stood by while Gustav’s chin hung over you.

  AGATA

  Nonsense.

  PETR

  If it wasn’t for the company, I would have --

  AGATA

  You would never. You would be too afraid. Afraid that you would be the one to be purged. We are not the Grading or Curing Committee. If you and I had divorced, the tasters would fear that one of us would sabotage the other. We would be more than just shamed, more than just talked about. Gustav and the others would keep us under their scrutiny. Eventually one of us would vanish.

  PETR

  I was the one who bore the snickers of our colleagues.

  AGATA

  Who always knew you couldn’t distinguish between anise and acetone.

  PETR

  I have born your contempt of me all these years, but now --

  AGATA

  Yes, you are my imprisoned Avakuum.

  PETR

  I secretly wished for this day, wished --

  AGATA

  Wished that Gustav would die so that I would finally turn into a dutiful wife and help you become Chairman?

  Petr drops his cigarette to the floor.

  AGATA (CONT’D)

  Typical male sentiment. But we don’t live in those boyar times.

  Petr crushes the cigarette underneath his heel.

  PETR

  You are right. We live in new times. And without Gustav, you have no allies in the Degustation Committee. And so, Agata, I want a divorce.

  AGATA

  You can’t do that!

  PETR

  It’s over. Over and done.

  Sergei enters. They both startle to attention.

  SERGEI

  Good, good. You’re both here.

  (to Agata)

  I trust you’ve heard the tragic news.

  Agata nods, pulls a handkerchief out from between her breasts.

  SERGEI (CONT’D)

  Our competitors have been waiting for this very moment. We can’t show any sign of weakness.

  Agata pats her eyes.

  AGATA

  No. We’d be taken to our knees.

  SERGEI

  I have given it some thought and realize that having a married couple compete for the Chairmanship is unwise.

  AGATA

  You have made a decision then?

  SERGEI

  Yes. Gustav will remain Chairman.

  AGATA

  Gustav?

  PETR

  We will keep a dead Chairman?

  SERGEI

  You both will be in charge of the committee, at least until Mocno is firmly established among the youth. Only then will we announce Gustav’s death to the world.

  PETR

  Work together?

  SERGEI

  We need solidarity at this critical time.

  PETR

  But --

  SERGEI

  Every man and woman is necessary for the task at hand.

  PETR

  No. We can’t. We won’t.

  Sergei peers at Petr.

  SERGEI

  Any hint of sabotage would compromise the entire factory.

  Silence. Then, Petr bows his head. Agata smiles.

  AGATA

  We will work together.

  SERGEI

  Good. I have full confidence you will find a robust flavor for our budding smokers. Comrades, devote your every breath to Mocno. I'll see you at the funeral.

  Sergei exits. Petr turns to Agata.

  PETR

  The Degustation Committee --

  AGATA

  Will go on.

  PETR

  With me.

  AGATA

  And me.

  Petr walks over to a chair and lights a cigarette. Agata sits down too, pinches some spices on a stub from the ashtray and lights it. They both inhale their cigarettes, their eyes pinned on each other, their faces turning blue.

  THE END

  This short play is based on an article in the Los Angeles Times about real Tobacco Tasters located in Russia.

  About The Author:

  B. Zaragoza is a writer living in San Diego, California.

  Also by this author, check out the fast-paced thriller novel, THE LISTENER’S LABYRINTH.

  What Others Are Saying:

  IndieReader: “THE LISTENER’S LABYRINTH is an enjoyable, fast-paced novel that will keep lovers of the genre and readers who might not be so keen on military stories wanting to read on. Well worth giving it a try.”

  “Fun, fast action, ran it by my wife who then cursed me for giving it to her, she stayed up reading "just 1/2 hour" in the evening and ended up finishing in 3 nights. (No ... not a 1-1/2 hour book)”

  “This tale has a little of everything; sex, intrigue, military, international affairs, compelling relationships, blood & gore, tenderness, gripping plot, and picturesque settings.”

  Also, check out other published works at Merchant’s Press.