Plays from VAULT 2 E-Book

Various

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Serie: NHB Modern Plays
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 229

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

This anthology comprises five of the best plays from VAULT 2017, London's biggest and most exciting arts festival. The dark underside of the Greatest Story Ever Told is exposed in Testamentby Tristan Bernays. Four lesser-known biblical characters are relocated to modern-day America, and given a chance to tell their side of the story. Previously seen at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, Sophia Leuner's Save + Quit shares the stories of how four young people attempt to live their lives in London and Dublin. 'Beautifully observed... perfectly pitched' (Scotsman) In Wretch by Rebecca Walker, an ex-teacher and an ex-junkie meet on a night bus during long, dark nights of homelessness. A year later their lives collide again. Brad Birch and Kenneth Emson's This Must Be the Place offers two short ballads about migration, missed connections, and life on the edge of respectability. Maisie loves Sheldon, but Sheldon's not so sure. He suffers from indigestion. But maybe it's not indigestion, maybe it's love? Jimmy Osborne's Maisie Says She LovesMe is a one-man play about love, inheritance and not letting your feelings show. 'London's answer to the Edinburgh Fringe… offers a whole line-up of treats'Evening Standard on VAULT Festival

Leseprobe

PLAYS FROMVAULT 2

TESTAMENTTristan Bernays

SAVE + QUITSophia Leuner

WRETCHRebecca Walker

THIS MUST BE THE PLACEBrad Birch & Kenneth Emson

MAISIE SAYS SHE LOVES MEJimmy Osborne

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Welcome to VAULT

Testament by Tristan Bernays

Save + Quit by Sophia Leuner

Wretch by Rebecca Walker

This Must Be the Place by Brad Birch & Kenneth Emson

Maisie Says She Loves Me by Jimmy Osborne

Author Biographies

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

Welcome (Back) to VAULT

2017 marks the fifth time the VAULT Festival has taken over the tunnels beneath Waterloo Station, transforming them into a hub for artists and audiences to explore the very best in exciting, innovative and risky creative arts projects. A seemingly impossible idea we had in late 2011 has grown, through the hard work of hundreds of people, into an annual celebration that London has embraced with an unruly and humbling passion.

From theatre and comedy to film and late-night entertainment, our goal with VAULT remains to create a vibrant underworld in which daring performers can find intrepid audiences without the financial and structural burdens that too often accompany any artistic enterprise.

It takes courage to come to these bizarre tunnels – now a fantastic year-round venue known as The Vaults – and present something for all to see. If the plays included in this collection are anything to go by, courage is not in short supply among the crop of artists that we are immensely proud to be hosting this year.

This volume represents just a fraction of the wealth of talent lurking below the surface of our city, and it’s with great pleasure that we present it to you.

Mat Burt, Andy George & Tim WilsonVAULT Festival Directors

This ebook was created before the end of rehearsals and so the texts may differ slightly from the plays as performed.

TESTAMENT

Tristan Bernays

Testament was first performed at VAULT Festival, London, on 22 February 2017, with the following cast:

ISAAC

Tristan Bernays

LOT’S DAUGHTERS

Peta CornishCeleste Dodwell

THE THIEF ON THE CROSS

Simon Manyonda

MUSICIAN

Ivy Davies

Director

Lucy Jane Atkinson

Producer

Darius Thompson,Old Sole Theatre Company

Designer

Verity Johnson

Sound Designer

Mark Sutcliffe

Music

Ivy Davies

‘What in me is dark, illumine.’Paradise Lost, John Milton

Characters

ISAAC

LOT’S DAUGHTERS (M and J)

THE THIEF ON THE CROSS

Time

Now

Place

America

Note

A live musician should accompany each short play, and each piece should be intercut with a song (see Songbook Appendix).

Isaac

A psychiatrist’s office.

ISAAC sits in a chair.

ISAAC. My father called last week to wish me happy birthday. It’s the first time that he’s done it in years. I didn’t talk to him – Jessica, my wife, she – She’s the one who – She thought it might be good to talk to –

So she’s the one who spoke to him, which was difficult because she didn’t know I still had a dad. I’d told her that he’d died years ago and that was all fine, except when this guy rings up out of the blue and says ‘Can I speak to Isaac, please?’ And she’s like ‘He’s not in right now, can I take a message?’ and he says ‘Can you tell him his father called?’ And she’s like ‘Okay – who is this?’ and he says ‘This is Isaac’s father – who is this?’ and she says ‘I’m his wife’ and he sorta laughs and says ‘He never told me that he got married.’

Now most people’d would be like, ‘Oh screw you this, this is bullshit, I –’ Sorry, sorry I don’t – I don’t usually – swear, I’m not – Most people would say this is – bullcrap but you have to understand that my father is very persuasive. He’s got this voice, this sorta rumbly low kinda burr. Very solid and trustworthy, you know? I didn’t inherit it, I’ve got this kind of – I sound like a Jewish dentist. It’s not a voice that inspires devotion in others.

So before she could say anything my father began talking and Jessica listened and by the sounds of it they had quite the chat. Talked about how long we’d been married and the kids and pretty soon the two of them are getting on like a house on fire.

I’m getting this all second hand, you understand – from my wife – who’s layin’ into me, asking ‘Why?’, why I don’t wanna talk to him and she won’t quit going at it, won’t quit – even though it is my birthday, I might add, I’m still the – But I tell her fine, okay, fine. I’ll tell you why we don’t speak any more.

My mother died when I was very young. That left just my father and I and he raised me all by himself. I don’t really remember her. But my father. Jesus, he was – like a rock, just – He had stone-grey hair and smelt of Old Spice. He was a pastor, admired, respected. He was very serious, he – I mean – he wasn’t one of those touchy-feely kinda dads, you know, I – I mean you weren’t exactly gonna be throwing a football around in the backyard or – or be horsin’ around with him or nothin’ but – but – I knew that he loved me. Cos I was the only one who could make him smile. Like when I’d – I dunno, I’d come into his study when he was writing one of his sermons and show him like some magic trick I’d been working on or a picture I’d drawn or something – you know like how your kids, they – And he wouldn’t just be like ‘Oh yeah, that’s great, honey, yeah – woo’, no, no he – he – He would stop what he was doing and he would sit and watch and his serious face would thaw into this smile that cocked the one side of his mouth and he’d get little crow’s feet around his eyes from the smiling and the wrinkling. I was the only one who could make him smile like that. Really smile, like from the – like from the middle, you know? And when he smiled at me like that I could see how much he loved me. And there were two things that he loved more than anything else in this world: me and God.

And then one day God started speaking to him. Yes, yes, I know, I said he was a pastor, that sorta comes with the territory but I don’t mean – This wasn’t a kind of, you know, ‘He’s always there when I need him’, I mean this was well and truly like ‘Abraham, this is God – listen up!’ We were having breakfast and he just dropped his coffee cup on the floor, smashed it and I looked up and he was just staring into space, his eyes were like – Like he was looking at something I couldn’t see and – And he started smiling and I said,

‘What is it, Daddy?’

and he said,

‘He just spoke to me.’

‘Who?’

‘God.’

I hardly saw him after that – I mean he was still at home, still looked after me and carried on working and preaching but he’d go out for hours at a time I don’t know where and just – I found him one night in the backyard. I went outside in my pyjamas – I was waiting for him to come tuck me in – and I saw him looking up at the sky at this big, blue black sky fulla stars. It was a big sky, I mean it was – huge, you – And I stood next to him, slid my hand in his and saw him smiling, and I remember thinking – feeling like a real grown-up, being like ‘Wow, here I am, up late like a proper grown-up and sharing this moment with my dad!’ And then I looked up and I realised – He had no idea I was there. He was miles away. And I say,

‘Dad? Daddy?’

and he looks down at me he says,

‘Yes, son?’

And I said,

‘What ya doing?’

And he was quiet for a moment, then he just smiles and says,

‘Just listening. Just listenin’ to Him.’

And he goes back to lookin’ at the sky and smilin’.

Two weeks later, I wake up in the middle of the night and he’s sitting on the edge of my bed, hands resting on his lap and his big dark eyes looking out at me from under his brows. And I’m like,

‘Daddy? What’s –’

– I can see through my curtains it’s still dark outside – and he says,

‘It’s okay, son, we need to get up. Don’t worry, just – get up and get dressed and I’ll tell you more on the way.’

So he gets me up and he takes me to the bathroom and I can see he’s run a fresh bath and he stands outside the door while I go pee then he peels off my pyjamas and he gets me in the tub and starts scrubbing away at me, real thorough – scrubbing away at me till there’s not a speck of dirt left. Then he lifts me out the tub, wraps me up in this big pink towel and starts drying me off, running a brush through it to get out all the knots out. And he leads me back into my bedroom and he’s laid out my clothes for me on the bed – my Sunday best – and he begins to dress me, real meticulously like – like he’s really focused on the buttons and the laces and – and getting the creases outta the – And it’s really strange cos this is the most – attentive he’s been with me for some time. Finally, he sits back, looks me up and down and nods to himself like he’s happy with how I look. But I notice that for the first time in months he’s not smiling.

He takes me downstairs and there’s this big sports bag on the kitchen table. And he picks it up and opens the back door and he says,

‘Come on.’

He leads me outside, takes my little hand in his and it feels so small – like a tiny little fish – and he walks us up out the back gate and through the fields of long grass out back towards the top of the hill, holding hands the whole way, walking the whole way in silence. And it’s not a hard walk but – you know, I’m having to walk four steps for every one of his huge – and I’m starting to get hot and sweaty and a bit breathless but I don’t say anything, cos Dad looks so focused and determined and I don’t wanna, you know – I don’t wanna –

And we finally get to the top, to this clearing – teenagers used to come up here and smoke and drink, you know, like – but it was empty that night and we can see the whole town glowing under the stars and I remember it looked beautiful, really – Norman Rockwell. People always rose-tint the past, you know? But that night right then it looked – it really looked –

Then he leads me over these rocks in the centre of the clearing, and one of them’s fallen over and it’s made this kinda table. Like an altar. And picks me up with his big hands and plops me down on the rock so I’m sitting on it with my little legs dangling off the edge. And he crouches down and he looks at me dead in the eyes and he says,

‘Isaac. You know Daddy loves you, don’t you? You know he loves you very, very much.’

And I knew this was a serious question so I say,

‘Yeah, I know that, Daddy.’

And for the first time that night he smiles at me.

Then he says it’s really important to do exactly what he tells me to do and I say okay. And I sit there, nice and still like he asks, as he takes a length of brown rope out of the bag and binds my wrists and ankles and lays me flat out on the rock, cradling my head so I don’t hit it when I lie down.

And it’s cold on the rock, and the ropes are really tight and I need to pee real bad but I don’t wanna say nothin’ cos I don’t wanna upset him. And he looks down at me, his eyes as big and black and empty as the skies above, and he leans down and says in that low rumbly, kinda burr and he says,

‘It’s okay, son. You’re being very brave. I need you to do one more thing. I need you to close your eyes real tight and look away.’

And I don’t want him to see me cry – So I just nod and he says,

‘Good’

and he leans down and kisses me on the forehead. And I can feel his stubble, smell his Old Spice.

So I close my eyes and look away. I don’t know what he’s doing and I don’t wanna look cos he told me not to but I’m really scared and the ropes hurt and I really need to pee and I turn my head and I open one eye just a crack, just a little bit so I can see what he’s doing and I watch him as he reaches into the bag and pulls out a knife.

A long silver hunting knife with a green handle, very sharp and clean. And he turns around and sees me looking straight at him.

He moves very quickly, covers my eyes, pushes me against the rock and it hurts, it really – I try to say something but my voice is trapped in my throat, I can’t – I can feel his sweat on his hands and the Old Spice smell and suddenly there’s this cold, sharp point against my – The knife, I can feel it pushing against my neck shaking, his – breathing, he’s trying to – get himself ready to – to – to push it in – to –

And then it stops. Everything stops. No sound, just a – ringing in my ears. I can still feel the knife against my neck but it’s stopped shaking. I turn my head, look through his fingers. And I can see my father just – looking up. And he’s listening again. But it’s like no one’s there. No one’s talking to him.

I say ‘Daddy?’ and he blinks and swallows, comes to like he’s waking up and he looks down at me with those big eyes. And he looks at me for the briefest moment it’s like he doesn’t know who the hell I am. And then he finally sees me and the knife against my neck.

And he very carefully he takes the knife away from my – my throat and he starts to undo ropes. His hands are sweaty and shaking, and he gets me back up sitting again and he looks at me very intensely, like it’s the first time he’s ever seen me. I smell something strong and we both look down and there’s a dark patch where I’ve wet myself. And he suddenly becomes very embarrassed and looks away. A wind blows and it’s cold – I can feel my penis shrivel – and he steps back and lets me slide down from the rock. We stand there for a moment, then he starts packing up the bag and then we set off again back down the hill to our house, me following behind this time, not holding hands.

By the time we get back to the kitchen, the sun is coming up. My father undoes my laces and slips off my soiled clothes and I let him, then he leaves me standing there half-naked in the middle of the kitchen, my little penis peeping out from under the hem of my shirt, as he comes back in with a new change of underpants and a blanket and he helps me into the underpants, one leg at a time, and he puts the blanket around my shoulders then then leads me slowly to the table where he sits me down at the head of it.

I sit in silence and he moves around the kitchen, opening and closing drawers and cupboards. Then he comes back to the table and puts a bowl and a spoon in front of me, and then fills it with cereal – Cap’n Crunch – and pours cold milk over it. Then he puts the cereal and the milk on the table and sits down next to me. And we sit the two of us in silence, the only sound the crackle of milk on the cereal. And I look at my father. And he looks at me. And I pick up the spoon and dip it in the bowl and begin to eat the cereal.

We just carried on. My father and I. Never talked about it. We shared a table and ate together, but did not speak, not really. The conversation sort of dwindled and dwindled until one day we just – stopped talking. I left for college when I was seventeen, went as far north as I could whilst retaining some semblance of civilisation. That was the last time I saw my father. The last time we even spoke.

I told her all this – Jessica – and she said – She went really quiet for a bit. Then she said ‘But – but why would he – I mean, you’re his son. He loved you.’

Yes he did. But it turns out he loved God more.

Lot’s Daughters

A kitchen at Thanksgiving.

Afternoon.

M and J stand smiling.

M. Thanksgiving’s always gonna be hectic round our house.

J. Amen to that.

M. I mean, you got fourteen people round a table with all the kids and the men –

J. Though you’d be hard pressed to find the difference.

M. Oh yes, you’d be hard pressed to – I mean you look at them out there now, in the yard throwin’ that pig skin about –

J. You can’t tell which is which!

M. That’s my Chuck over there ’bout to make a pass – Chuck used play quarterback in college – and then that’s her Tom over there, good-lookin’ blond on the other side, and her two beautiful boys.

J. Dale and Jonah.

M. And that’s my pride and joy over there, my little Billy.

J. He is as big as they come, now.

M. He’s gonna be a quarterback someday too, I just know it, I – Here, let me give him a – Billy! Coo-ee!

J. Billy! Billy darlin’!

M. Oh, he’s wavin’!

J. Hey Billy!

M. Hey, Billy Bee!

J. You boys playin’ nice, now?

M. You enjoyin’ the game? Who’s winnin’? I said who’s – They can’t hear us.

J. Can’t hear you through the glass.

M. So we got all that lot out there to feed –

J. And then with Tom and Chuck’s family and whatnot –

M. It’s always gonna be a big order, you know what I mean?

J. ’Less you plan it.

M. ’Less you plan it.

J. We doin’ it at hers this year.

M. We doin’ it at mine. It was hers last year –

J. Mine last year.

M. – and you did such a beautiful job.

J. Stop!

M. You did!

J. Stop! You are makin’ me blush!

M. My sister is the hostess with the mostess – she puts on a spread that’d knock your socks off!

J. Oh now, you stop!

M. You do!

J. We alternate it cos –

M. Well it is like feedin’ an army –

J. Only with more casualties!

M. – so we alternate hostin’ but we always do it together.

J. The Two Musketeers.

M. The Two Musketeers, that’s right!

J. We’s a team. Host handles meat and sauces.

M. Back-up does the veggies and the pie.

M & J. And the men does the washin’ up after!

J. She’s my best friend.

M. She’s mine.

J. Always was, growin’ up together.

M. We shared a room.

J. In pink.

M. Of course.

J. You remember those Thanksgivin’s?

M. Oh Lord, yes I – You think this is busy now?

J. Back then we had aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews and friends and family all piled up high to the rafters –

M. And lookin’ out over it all – presidin’ over ever’thin’ was Mommy and Daddy.

J. They was real pillars of the community.

M. That is it, that is it in a nutshell – ‘community’. Our town had a real sense of community spirit. And Mommy and Daddy, they was just such a big part of it.

J. Oh God, yes.

M. Momma useta play organ in church.

J. She looks just like her, I swear.

M. Daddy was Head of the Civic Pride Committee –

J. Useta organise charity events and Fourth o’ July parades for the veterans.

M. He just oozed pride for our town outta every pore.

J. You would’ve too. You’da been real proud to walk around our little town.

M. Not all of it.

J. Oh no – no, no not all of it.

M. Lord, no.

J. There’s certain parts o’ town you wouldn’t walk into if you knew what’s good for you.

M. Rough part o’ town.

J. There’d be – drinkin’ and gamblin’ and all sorts o’ hell and holler. I tell you, there’s more blue lights in that place than there was red.

M. Oh yeah, yeah that was where you’d go for – women.

J. Loose women.

M. But it weren’t just women neither.

J. Oh no! There’s other reason’s you’d go there. If you were – were –

M. Well let’s just if we wasn’t a landlocked town itta been fulla sailors.

J. I mean – What you choose to do in the privacy of your own home is your own business – but when you are – shakin’ in my face –

M. With them bars and parades and whatnot, well then – well then it stops bein’ your private business. Stops bein’ decent.

J. That’s what Daddy was fightin’ for. To keep things decent.

M. To keep our town a nice town.

J. He petitioned to the Town Council about it. Him and the Committee – he led it. Put forward their case, very eloquent on why they had to stem this – corrupting influence on the town. And the Council, well they – They gave him the whole ‘Thank you for your concern, it’s duly noted –’

M. ‘– but there’s nothing that we can legally do about it. They’re not breaking any laws.’

J. And Daddy said if that was the case then their laws were – Pardon my French – a piece of shit not worth the paper they were written on.

M. He was very passionate about it.

J. Swore he’d fight on – and he did.

M. He organised the Committee together for rallies and protests. Momma was there, us too, wavin’ our little banners.

J. But after a while others from the Committee –

M. Friends he’d started out with.

J. – they started showin’ up less and less. It was too hard for them, see.

M. And Daddy started getting angry with them.

J. He was a passionate man, see.

M. Started calling ’em quitters.

J. Started getting this reputation for bein’ high an’ mighty.

M. All he’s tryna do is raise us –

J. Raise a family good and proper. He’s doin’ the best he can.

M. They walked out on Daddy. Abandoned him. Nobody’d talk to him. We’s the only decent ones left in the whole sordid damn town, Daddy’d say.

J. It was tough.

M. They’s difficult times.

J. But you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.

M. Who said that?

J. Dolly.

M. Amen to that.

J. You like Dolly?

M. Oh we love her, she is jus’ the best.

J. The best.

M. ‘Workin’ 9 to 5’

M & J. ‘What a way to make a livin’!’

M. Oh Lord, what are we –

J. That woman is just –

M. Royalty.

J. Genius.

M. She really is, she’s just so – strong and good and – When I think about what she went through – as a little girl growin’ up – All them hard times and she still just – just –

J. Hey, hey it’s okay.

M. I’m sorry, it’s silly, I –

J. It’s okay.

M. I feel all – I shouldn’t be like this –

J. Don’t.

M. – in front of a –

J. We don’t have to talk none about it if you don’t –

M. No, no, I’m okay, I’m okay, I just – ’s just difficult to know – ’xactly how to start, you know? I mean we didn’t know what was goin’ on.

J. We was very young.

M. I was fourteen, she’s twelve.

J. Daddy comes rushin’ in one night, hollerin’ ‘Girls, girls, get up. We gotta go. We gotta go.’ And he drags us outta bed, starts pullin’ on our clothes –

M. There’s all these bags in the hallway, all packed in a real hurry –

J. And we can hear some noise or sump’n –

M. Shoutin’ and screamin’.

J. Momma’s standin’ there, watchin’ the TV just – frozen, not movin’ –

M. Daddy runnin’ like a whirlin’ dervish, grabbin’ bags and –

J. And we see on the news there’s a car on fire – a police car – and all these people round it – blacks and Hispanics – smashin’ shop fronts and pullin’ out TVs –

M. People throwin’ bricks and and bottles and –

J. Police officers in helmets whuppin’ six shades o’ hell outta this black boy.

M. And then Daddy rushes over and yanks us up and starts pushin’ us towards the door, toward the car.

J. Outside there’s smoke comin’ from downtown.

M. Orange glow from the fires.

J. We screamin’ ‘What’s goin’ on, Daddy?’

M. And he says ‘It’s the End o’ the World – come just like I said it would.’

J. We got as far as the edge of Greenwood – where it cuts up on Main – and Daddy suddenly slams on the brake.

M. Road’s blocked up ahead.

J. We gotta get out.

M. Do the rest on foot.

J. Daddy grabs all bags he can.

M. And he grabs our hands and he starts runnin’ with us.

J. And then I says ‘Where’s Momma?’

M. We look back and she ain’t movin’.

J. Daddy’s yellin’ her to come on.

M. But she’s just standin’ there terrified like – like she’s turned to stone or sump’n.

J. And this man comes outta nowhere and he – he smacks her over the head – with a pipe – and she just – goes down. Crumbles like dust or sump’n.

M. And we’s just frozen for a moment – like we don’t know what to do.

J. And then I starts hollerin’.

M. We both do.