The CTR Anthology Page 14
When Military Man-Son re-enters dragging dazed Mother, contentedly remarking that he nabbed one of them anyway.
When he sees the Son’s dilemma, and his smile fades, an oh-oh escaping him as he decides to get out again.
But the Man’s gun say not so fast, bud.
The Man violently yanks the Mother off his clutches and claims her for his own.
The Mother gets revived rather quickly this time as she finds herself thrown on her knees (downstage left).
The Man menaces the two Sons some more, both backed against window, identical moves.
Man asks questions, two scaredycats deny knowledge. Man angrily slaps both, one slap that flows from cheek to cheek and asks them to leave.
The two Sons panic, very reluctant to go.
The Man gets ready to shoot.
The two Sons, identical moves, quickly walk to door (downstage right), give Ma one last look and exit.
Man, very impatient grabs Mother by hair and throws her in bedroom, entering in after her.
Empty room – one second.
The two Sons creep in, identical moves from upstage right, sliding against the wall, looking around, quick, quick glances, not relating to each other at all, but mirroring each other’s moves, both very close to each other, almost one person.
The two Sons approach the bedroom door, listen cautiously, slowly open door, get shocked, mutter apologies and back.
The Man angrily enters buttoning up shirt and violently punches two Sons down to ground.
Zooms to window to check for signs of danger – none.
Advances to two Sons, wondering what to do, when enter Mother from bedroom with robe, and guiltily looks at the Sons and away. The two Sons bawl “Maaa.”
Son backs off on floor, on verge of tears.
At same moment Military Man-Son cranes forward, on verge of rage and screaming zooms at Man.
Man kicks Military Man-Son in nuts, easily subduing him.
Son feels sympathy pains as he drops in armchair holding own nuts.
Military Man-Son in tearful rage, gets up, curses Mother and Man and rushes out (downstage right).
The Man advances on Son and screams.
Man: Why did you come back?
Son screaming back at top of his lungs.
Son: I like it here.
Man doesn’t answer this, but angrily takes a seat on couch.
Mother guiltily goes and has seat by him.
Man stares at Son with hate, purposely puts arm around Mother, yanks her close and paws her breast, kissing her violently.
Son in throes of pent-up rage springs out of chair zooms all over the room erupting in a violent verbal assault as he throws a flurry of four-letter words at the two.
Man turns but lets Son continue.
Mother looks on, sadly sympathetic to Son.
Son raging impotently, wanting to physicalize his verbal assault, but unable to, and hating himself for that.
When window lights bang on.
Son petrified in tense fear.
Man sees him, sees window light, rushes to.
Mother getting up, Man urging her to stay out of view.
Man hurls shutters open.
To reveal Military Man-Son embracing naked Monkey, Military Man-Son naked from waist up.
Monkey tied up by hands, gut wound, dead.
Military Man-Son embracing her corpse.
Suddenly he looks up and out, yellow-eyed.
Man zooms to window, slams shutters closed, pants in terror.
Decides to exit (upstage right) and check against better judgement.
Mother now by window tosses a strange look towards entrance (upstage right), as Son inches forward to her.
Son sees her look. Tenses.
Mother is going to, will, does suddenly erupt with one intent to get out.
Ma lunges for exit.
Son holds her, drags downstage left.
Ma turns round in grip, claws eyes, regains freedom, lunges once more.
Son lunges after her, grabs her and drags her downstage left again.
Both fall.
Ma gets outa grip.
Lunges over couch.
Son climbs up her, pins her on couch.
Ma kicks Son in guts, rushes off couch.
Son holds her arm.
Ma drags him along, grabs plank, knocks him unconscious as crashes plank on head.
Ma runs to door.
Stumbles. Falls.
Gets up. Slips. Falls.
Like puddle of oil.
Holds on to couch, trying clamber up, feet slip, slip, slipping.
Son coming to very very slowly.
Ma panicky. Son walking to her very very slowly. Real slow.
Like Blob coming near. Ma screams. Son grabs her.
Drags her downstage centre, they fall, he pinning her down, facing downstage left.
Son trying to placate her, mumbling sweet nothings, reassuring her, trying to kiss her cheek, caressing her breast, side of body, left thigh, left thigh, left thigh, lust, revulsion, lust, guilt, reassuring kiss, no more revulsion, lotsa guilt, lotsa heavy petting.
Ma trying to get outa clutches, manages to clamber up.
Son still reassuring, but angry, grabs her, drags her to bedroom and out, insane look in eyes.
Ma fighting.
Son in helpless clutches of sinful lust.
Empty room.
Pause.
Ma stumbles out dazed.
Seeks solace of wall.
Claws it.
Turns around, feeling cheap, sinful, disgusted.
Hand feels crucifix.
Damnation for certain.
Son slowly enters (downstage left), back to audience, bare-chested, shirt in hand, strutting like proud peacock.
Showily puts shirt on, buttons, looking at Ma suddenly reels round and sinks to knees and to floor and cries in despair, wanting to undo what can never be undone.
Ma bawling rushes to solace of couch.
Son sees her from corner of eye, rises outa dusty misery, tearfully approaches her, holds her tenderly, looking at her lovingly, mumbling some apologies.
Ma is unresponsive.
Son going in for kiss.
When Man enters from upstage right and sees this.
Son quickly jolts back, ready to punch his head in, not able to punch head in, zooms out (downstage right).
Man walks to behind Ma, grabs her threateningly by hair, but Ma hungrily grabs his hand and clenches it tight against her cheek. Encouraged, Man not letting go of hand quickly takes seat on couch and same time, not yet finishing move, zooms left hand to her right breast, pawing pawing away. Idealistic romantic Ma gets a bit flustered as panting Man feels her up, eyes full of lust, intent on sex, rough sex.
Shocked Ma lets go of his grip as her angry tearful eyes seem to say “what about love, what happened to that?” and ends by window.
Man feels very guilty as he realizes the error of his ways, hating himself for letting his animalism take over.
Apologetic, he goes over to her and mumbles “I’m sorry.”
But Ma won’t have any of it as she moves away resisting.
Man persists however and Ma sees he is truly sincere.
Ma melts, as her eyes well with sentimental tears.
A tender embrace.
When the window light bangs on.
The two are alarmed as they try to peer through shutters, Man zooms to bedroom and zooms back in. When Military Man-Son creeps in (downstage right), with a funny look on his face.
The two notice him and the Man knows that look of betrayal.
Military Man-Son looks away guiltily.
Ma seems to say “why?” with the eyes as she walks like a zombie to Son who reaches for her but gets slap in face instead. Ma goes and plasters herself against wall.
Man resigned gets ready to open window.
Last look of despair ’tween Ma and Man.
Man gets trembling hand to latch, hurl
s shutters open.
When Military Man suddenly changes mind and jumps to stop him.
Man hurls him away.
Same split second fires out window.
Same split second outside window the Son in Military Man’s army coat fires back, six frenzied shots.
Both shoot each other, the Son going through a spectacular death fall.
Man holding guts slowly turns round, walks forward, sinks to knees, drops gun, rolls to side and suffers unbearable pain.
Ma slowly walks over and kneels by him, trying to comfort him somehow.
When wounded Son reappears outside window, murderous eyes urging trembling gun hand to steady itself.
Ma turns to give Military Man-Son an “I hate you” look when sees Son pointing gun at her.
Ma is petrified, still in horror as she looks on, waiting.
But Son is dead, as the gun falls off hand and he falls out of sight.
Military Man-Son quickly closes window as he looks intently at Mother.
Mother knows life is at stake as she gives quick looks at door (upstage right).
Military Man-Son produces gun outa pocket, warning her not to try.
Mother, scared even more, will not listen to reason, wants out, out.
Military Man-Son’s warnings almost begging now, as he tearfully urges her to stay.
Ma decides to take a chance and zooms past him, past his hold, out upstage right.
Son screams out at her to stop, gun pointed after her, ready to fire.
Son tearfully runs out after her.
Pause.
A shot offstage.
Pause.
Tearfully Military Man-Son re-enteres with Other Woman, dragging the dazed woman in and placing her on couch.
He does not have his gun.
Military Man-Son is frantically trying to revive the dazed girl.
He rushes to bathroom, zooms back in with towel, lifts Other Woman to standing position, ’bout to remove slip.
The window light bangs on.
Military Man-Son is terrified as he sees the light and pushes Other Woman absent-mindedly back, letting her fall on couch.
He walks like a zombie to window.
Hurls shutters open.
To reveal the Mother, naked, hands tied up, gut wound, dead.
Horrified Military Man-Son, slams window shut, every inch of his body quivering, about to burst.
Military Man-Son screams a prolonged “Nooo” with all his might, sinks to knees, doubling up, crying his heart out.
As music slowly slowly fades and lights slowly slowly dim, only Military Man-Son’s sobs now being heard as he reels forward to armchair, pulling armchair down, crying all over it.
Lights dim dim. Very dim now.
Music slowly faded. Now faded out completely.
A silent pause. The Military Man-Son sobbing meekly.
Music: Brindle’s Place
Clashing mournful cymbals and drums.
The craziness, the speed of the action all gone now, back to slow slow pace.
Military Man-Son’s sobs slowly subsiding.
Other Woman slowly coming to, but remaining on couch.
Man slowly slowly moving, in unbearable pain.
Man very slowly very painfully managing to roll to side, seeing the Other Woman, slowly turning around trying to get up, when he suddenly painfully crashes on belly.
A pause as the Man grits his teeth, waiting for the pain to subside and slowly painfully tries again.
Very slowly manages to crawl over to couch.
The Other Woman looks at him weakly.
The Man cranes his neck to her and slowly attempts to come closer to her.
Come closer to her face, one last kiss.
Other Woman weakly holds his hand and tries to pull him close.
The Man comes forward closer, closer, closer – but not close enough.
He feels his strength running out.
His face, full of pain, despair, needing that last kiss more than anything, yet slowly, slowly falling back, hand slipping out of her hand, slowly reeling back.
When the cymbals crash and the music screams out. The lonely wail of a saxophone saying “Yup this is the way it is.” Mourning, self-pitying.
With the cymbal crash the Man suddenly falls flat on his back – stone dead.
Other Woman sadly tries to get up, too weak, her sobs weak pants, stumbles forward to ground, slowly crawls over to him, kneels by his side and weakly caresses his face, slowly closing his open dead eye-lids.
Other Woman can’t even cry any more, her face only reading sadness as she wallows in despair on her knees.
She weakly gets to a standing position and dazedly stumbles out (downstage left).
Long pause. Music wailing wailing away.
Military Man-Son now no longer crying but staring sadly, a blank look, out at nothing.
Other Woman dazedly stumbles in again, goes towards exit (upstage right).
She stops as she feels like she’s about to faint.
Dazedly looks at aspirin bottle in hand, opens it, is about to swallow pills, when listless Military Man-Son listlessly grabs bottle outa her hands and listlessly tosses it away.
Frustrated Other Woman stands there dazedly sobbing in frustration.
She gives up as she sinks to her knees next to him.
Military Man-Son poutingly sadly tries not to look at her.
Frustration grips Other Woman once more as she listlessly weakly tries to push, hit Military Man-Son, not even looking at him, seeming to say, “Why can’t you lemme kill myself?”
A few pushes later, she lets her hand rest on his shoulder.
She listlessly lets it flop against his cheek.
Listlessly caresses his cheek.
Listlessly turns and listlessly sadly looks at him.
He looks at her equally sadly, wanting to cry.
Both wanting to cry as they sadly look at each other, flopped on their knees.
He slowly holding her waist now, drawing himself closer to her. Now both very close, looking deep into each others sad tearful eyes. The Son grabs her and holds her in a tight embrace. She equally greedily holds him just as tightly.
Both cry and hold on tight to each other.
The wailing music peaks to an abrupt wailing stop.
BLACKOUT.
Rumours of Our Death
A PARABLE IN 25 SCENES
George F. Walker
George F. Walker is one of Canada’s most prolific and widely produced playwrights. His work has been honoured with countless awards, including four Chalmers’ Awards and two Governor General’s Awards for Drama (for Criminals in Love and Nothing Sacred). His works have been produced around the world; Filthy Rich and Zastrozzi have had over 100 productions in the English-speaking world; Beyond Mozambique, Theatre of the Film Noir, and Criminals in Love have also been translated into French and German; Nothing Sacred and Love and Anger have met with great success in the United States with major productions in Los Angeles, Seattle, San Francisco, and Chicago. His latest play, Escape from Happiness, which received a workshop production at the Powerhouse Theatre in New York, premièred under his own direction at the Factory Theatre in Toronto in February 1992.
Rumours of Our Death was first produced at Factory Theatre Lab on 12 January 1980.
PRODUCTION
Director / George F. Walker
Music / John Roby
Choreography / Odette Oliver
Design / Brian Arnott, Sylvalya Elchin
CAST
Peter Blais / The King
Steven Bush / The Farmer
Dianne Heatherington / Maria III
Jake Levesque / The Farmer’s Son
Mina E. Mina / Raymond
Susan Purdy / Maria II
Patricia Vanstone / Maria I
Bob White / The Foreigner
Tim Wynne-Jones / The Terrorist
CHARACTERS
King
Queen, Maria I
<
br /> Raymond, a novelist
Maria III, a cafe owner
Farmer
Son of the farmer
Foreigner, well-dressed*
Terrorist, with hood over his head*
Maria II, daughter of the king
*played by the same actor
SCENE ONE
(The King on his terrace. He is wearing a business suit.)
King: My people. I have a small favour to ask of you. Since being restored I have done many things for your benefit. A list of these things will be posted in the town square shortly. In the meantime, because I have a favour to ask, I wish to remind you of two of them. First, one for the women. Under the heading of law reform. It is now a criminal offence to rape a woman in public. Now one for the men. Under the heading of law reform also. If a woman cannot bear a man a male offspring, it is no longer necessary for this man to seek a divorce, he may now simply do whatever he feels like. My people I have a favour to ask of you. I am afraid that through no fault of yours, but for reasons that nevertheless are none of your business, we must go to war. War, as we all know, is something to be avoided at all costs.
Blackout
SCENE TWO
(An outdoor café in the town square. Maria III, the owner, is talking to a customer. His name is Raymond. He writes novels)
Raymond: What did you think of his speech this morning?
Maria III: He moved his lips a bit this time. Often he doesn’t move them at all and that gives me a queasy feeling.
Raymond: Have you heard the rumour that the king is not human?
Maria III: I believe it. If you get close enough you can look through his eyes and see little sparkling blue lights.
Raymond: Do you think he is a machine?
Maria III: Personally, no. I think he is from another planet.
Raymond: In my vast experience, I have learned never to listen to rumour except as a source for amusing anecdote.
Maria III: That’s all right for you. You write books. But I’m a real person and I know that anything is possible.
Raymond: In his speech, although I wasn’t really listening closely, I believe I heard him promise that not one man would be killed in this war.
Maria III: It’s possible he said that. I was busy listening to my heart burst. This country is not equipped to fight a war.