Shockwaves by Hedva Anbar
CHARACTERS:
THE GILBERTSONS a white British family
- LISA distraught forty something housewife who lets it all hang out
- MIMI desperately lonely fourteen year old schoolgirl
- JAMES fiftyish former cleric
SETH BORG male art student from Malta in his early twenties
PAUL DIXON ultra-smooth man in his late twenties or early thirties,
whose studied charm and solicitude are easily misinterpreted as
genuine warmth and concern
KELLY McKEE serene and assured thirtyish mother of a 3 month old son
MALAK SALAH a.k.a. Angela, twenty year old UK born woman of Middle
Eastern appearance, walks with a limp
SCENE I : LISA.
The setting is a meadow dotted with wild flowers on Penny Heath on the
outskirts of Westwater, a small town in the UK. Down stage there is a
bench.
It is about four o'clock on a weekday afternoon at the beginning of
June, two thousand and something.
SETH BORG is sitting on the bench looking listless. He is holding a
sketchbook and pencil as though he has been sketching and has given
up. On the bench next to him are an open backpack and a selection of
wild flowers which bloom in the UK in late spring and early summer
such as: clover, poppies, daisies, cowslips, dandelions, lily of the
valley, forget-me-not, cornflowers.
LISA GILBERTSON trudges in up stage out of breath. She is carrying a
handbag or wearing a shoulder bag. On catching sight of SETH's back,
she freezes and remains transfixed for a few beats.
LISA: (whispers) Johnny. Johnny. (Louder) Johnny. Johnny.
SETH looks round at LISA then turns back.
LISA's face crumples. She remains standing where she is for a few
more beats then wearily turns to retrace her steps. She's not looking
where she's going, hits a branch or stone and loses her balance. She
puts out a hand to break her fall and lands on all fours. Her bag
falls to the ground. She tries to get up but one of her wrists hurts.
She moans.
SETH hears a noise, turns round, sees LISA's plight, dithers
uncertainly for a few beats then helps her get up, ushers her to the
bench and moves the flowers and his backpack out of the way.
LISA sits down and examines her wrist.
SETH: Are you all right?
LISA: That's what happens when you don't look where you're going. I
don't think anything's broken. (She holds out her hand and moves it.)
I've some paracetamol in my bag. Would you mind…
SETH picks up LISA's bag from where it fell and pokes around in it
fastidiously till he finds a packet of paracetamol.
LISA indicates that SETH should give her two capsules.
SETH extracts the capsules and takes a water bottle from his
backpack.
LISA swallows the capsules and takes a gulp of water.
LISA: Thank you. You're a very kind-hearted young man.
SETH: There's a mnemonic, rice: R. I. C. E. The I's for Ice and the
E's for elevate. I can't remember what the R's for. Or the C.
LISA isn't listening. She's using her uninjured hand to find a tissue,
dab her eyes, blow her nose and examine her knees for bruises. From
time to time during the remainder of the scene she flexes her fingers
and rotates her wrist.
SETH: You probably know what to do better than me.
LISA: I've disturbed you. I'm sorry. (She gets ready to go.)
SETH: You should wait a while. You've had a shock. You need time to
get over it.
LISA: I'm sorry to be so much bother. I'm such a donkey. If I hadn't
followed you ...
SETH: Followed me? You followed me?
LISA: I think it was you. I'm pretty sure it was you. You came out of
the Penny Place Shopping Centre?
SETH: Yes. (Pause.) Why did you follow me?
LISA: I thought ... I thought you were my son. It's his birthday
tomorrow ... twenty first. And from behind ... you looked just like
him from behind. I'm such a donkey. You see, I'd just left the
shopping centre myself ... and I was waiting for a bus. I was sitting
on the bench in the bus shelter ... then I saw you ... and I was sure
you were Johnny and I couldn't help it ... even though ... I ran after
you. When you got to Penny Heath you disappeared behind some trees and
at this time of the year the foliage is so thick I couldn't tell which
way you'd gone. I tried one path after another and I'd almost given up
and then I saw you ... oh, dear. You must think I'm ridiculous ...
pathetic ...
SETH: Why? Everyone makes mistakes. I make mistakes all the time. In
fact -
LISA: There are mistakes and mistakes.
SETH: What sort was this: the first or the second?
LISA: You're laughing at me.
SETH: Only because you're beating yourself up over nothing. You
thought I was your son. What's so terrible about that?
LISA: Believe me ...
SETH: I wish him a very happy birthday.
LISA: You don't understand. (Pause.) I knew you weren't Johnny. I knew
you couldn't be Johnny ... because he died ... I mean he was killed
... murdered. A mother shouldn't outlive her son. If someone had to
die it should have been me. I feel guilty that I'm still alive when he
isn't.
SETH: Killed, you said? Murdered?
LISA: Johnny Gilbertson. (Pause.) Last November. (Pause.) You don't
remember?
SETH: (shrugs.)
LISA: You're not from round here?
SETH: I'm from Malta but I'm studying in Newcastle. My girlfriend
persuaded me to come for the weekend. For her cousin's wedding. Big
mistake.
LISA: Oh dear. And I've gone and made things worse. (She gets up.) I'm
all right now. I'll let you get back to your drawing.
SETH: (While he is speaking he gathers the wild flowers into a bunch,
picks some blades of grass and twists them round the stalks.) I wish I
could. But I can't. Artists' block. Had it for weeks. I hoped the view
would inspire me ... or the flowers. But I knew it wasn't very likely.
The truth is I was looking for an excuse to get away from my
girlfriend. She's shopping you see. If there's one thing I can't bear
... (He holds the flowers out to LISA.)
LISA: Keep them for your girlfriend.
SETH: She wouldn't ... it's not her style.
LISA: (takes the flowers.) In that case. (Appreciative:) Thank you ...
what's your name?
SETH: Seth Borg.
LISA: Thank you Seth. I'm Lisa, Lisa Gilbertson.
SETH: I'm sorry about your son. It's no wonder you weren't looking
where you were going. If you want to talk about it -
LISA: You don't look anything like him. But you might have seen him.
(She takes a flyer with a photo and text from her bag and hands it to
SETH.)
SETH: (reads from the flyer:) If you have seen this man or can provide
information as to his whereabouts please / contact -
LISA: It's hard to believe it's twenty one years. It seems like
yesterday. He took his time. I was in labour for thirteen hours. He
was a slow developer too. Slow but mischievous, a real devil. I was
always yelling at him. And when he changed and became withdrawn I was
pleased. I was a bad mother. I can see that now. If I'd shown more
interest, listened, tried to understand. If only I could turn back the
clock. Sometimes at night when everyone's asleep I take the urn out to
the garden. I can spend time with him there, now that they've stopped
hanging around and we haven't got police protection any more.
SETH: Police protection! Why? In case whoever who killed your son ...
?
LISA: If he was killed.
SETH: I thought you said -
LISA: The thing is, when I'm holding the urn I don't feel a thing,
nothing at all. It's as though his spirit isn't there, as though the
ashes belong to someone else and then I want to find that person's
mother or wife or child and give them the urn. And if they're not
Johnny's ashes, then he might be alive and my husband needn't give up
his position and we needn't move. They didn't let me see his body ...
and DNA testing, it's not foolproof, not a hundred per cent. What if
they got it wrong? What if he was nowhere near the bus stop? Or he
lost his memory in the blast? Or his mind snapped? Or he panicked and
ran away and he's too ashamed to come back?
SETH: So you don't know for sure what happened to him?
LISA: A part of me believes that one day he'll phone or walk in
through the door. That's why I don't want to move. I want his room to
stay just how he liked it, with clean bed linen so that he can go
straight to bed if he's tired, and the toothpaste he liked in the
bathroom. And baked beans in the cupboard, he loved baked beans. I got
him a new laptop for his birthday and a cake and a card. (She
indicates the flyer.) I had a thousand of these printed. I hand them
out and stick them on lamp posts and trees. Do you think I'm mad?
SETH: No more than people who believe in the Second Coming. Like my
girlfriend.
LISA: You're not a believer?
SETH: No. I hope you're not offended.
LISA: No. No. Not at all But I can see that if you're not and she is
... That big mistake you were talking about, is it that you came with
her for the wedding? Or is it having her for a girlfriend?
SETH: My big mistake was letting her take over my life.
LISA: And you're finding it hard to break up?
SETH: She's my tutor at art school. If I break up with her ...
LISA: Oh dear. Is there any way I can help you? If there is don't be
shy.
SETH: Just being able to talk about it helps. There's no one at
college I can talk to. This is the first time ... you're the first
person ...
LISA: It's always easier to talk to strangers.
SETH:You're right. But compared with your troubles ... Me, all I have
to do is stick with her for a few more months, get over my artists'
block and finish my degree portfolio. If anything goes wrong ... do
you know what that means? I let everyone down ... not just myself, my
family too, they're so proud of me. I won an award, you see. Otherwise
I could never have afforded ...
LISA: It's hard to function normally when you've got something like
that weighing on your mind.
SETH: How's your wrist?
LISA: (holds out her arm.) A bit sore. But otherwise okay.
SETH: Good.
LISA: I always had so much on my plate. On my feet from morning to
night. Now I have too much time and too little to do. My husband
searches out things to keep me occupied and I wriggle out of them
without telling him and spend the time roaming round the Penny Place
Shopping Centre. Today he thinks I'm helping out at the community
library. Everyone thinks I'm deranged. They don't say so but I can see
it in their faces. One thing I know though. I don't care what they
say. It wasn't him. It wasn't my Johnny. He was a good boy, a caring
boy. You can ask everyone who knew him and they'll all tell you how
good natured he was. It was her.
SETH: Her?
LISA: A mother knows her son better than the lawyers, better than the
media. He wasn't there to defend himself so they made him the
scapegoat and let her off scot-free. Insufficient evidence for a
prosecution they said, no proof, even though they caught her
red-handed and she confessed, she confessed, and the CCTV wasn't
clear, they admitted that .And she was a liar, she gave a false name
to the leader of the band and she lied to her father. As for her
father, it wouldn't surprise me if he's an even more dangerous
security risk than her. Do you know why they let her off? Because
she's young and pretty and made sheep's eyes at them. They fell for
it, all of them. And they still do. The media loves her.
SETH: (nods sympathetically.)
LISA: I'm sorry. I talk too much. I should talk less and listen more,
that's what everyone says.
SETH: (lights up.) I couldn't care less what everyone says. As far as
I'm concerned meeting you is the best thing that's happened for a long
time. All of a sudden I have an urge to paint again. My artist's block
has evaporated.
LISA: Really?
SETH: Really and truly. I wish there was something I could do for
you.
LISA: You can give me one of your sketches.
SETH: If you give me your address I'll send you one. (He shows her
some pages of his sketchbook.) These are just dashed off.
LISA: I don't know anything about art but I'm sure you've got talent.
SETH: You can't judge / from ...
LISA: You'll make it. I know you will.
SETH: Do you know how many students graduate from art college every
year? Do you know how many of them obtain recognition in their
lifetime? Hardly any. And how many earn enough from their painting to
support themselves? Even less. I paint because I have to, like I have
to sleep and eat and breathe. So when I couldn't paint I knew there
was something wrong with me.
LISA: I'm glad you've recovered.
SETH: Know what I'd like to do? Paint your portrait. For my degree
portfolio. I'm thinking of calling it “Faces of Love”.
LISA: How I look now! No way.
SETH: You're perfect for “motherly love”, full of feeling. If I can
capture that ... We'd have to have a few sittings but I can do a lot
of the work from photos.
LISA: Can you paint Johnny from photos?
SETH: A portrait of someone I've never met? It's not the same ... but
... I can have a go. What do you say to a double portrait, mother and
son?
There is a dull thud off.
LISA: (distraught:) Did you hear that? What was it?
SETH: (stands on the bench and peers in the direction he came from.)
Something's going on at the shopping centre.
LISA: A bomb.
SETH: I doubt it.
LISA: Someone's blown themselves up.
SETH: I don't think so.
LISA: Your girlfriend might be hurt.
SETH: I'm sure she's all right.
LISA: You should check.
SETH: (hesitates then finds his mobile and makes a phone call.) (Into
phone:) Hi. (Pause.) Yes.(Pause.) What? (Pause.) (Amused:) Poor sod.
How are you getting on? (Pause.) Okay. What time?(Pause.) Me too.
(Ends call.) It wasn't a bomb.
LISA: I'm mad. I told you I'm mad, didn't I? Every little noise, I'm
convinced it's a bomb. You see, that's how he died - I mean that's
what they said. They said he was waiting at that bus stop outside the
shopping centre. In front of that bench, the one I was sitting on when
I saw you. I never used to go to the Penny Place Shopping Centre but
now I can't keep away. They said he was waiting for a bus. And she
looked like just an ordinary harmless person. He had no way of
knowing. How could he know? He was trusting, too trusting. That's my
fault. I should have taught him not to be so trusting. I let him down.
She was evil. Some people are born evil. If it was up to me I'd bring
back the death penalty.
SETH: You wouldn't?
LISA: Did you find out what it was, the noise?
SETH: There was a suspicious looking bag on a bench outside the
shopping centre.
LISA starts looking for something frantically.
SETH: (amused:) No-one claimed it so they did a controlled explosion.
Turned out to be some poor sod's laptop.
LISA: Oh my God! What a bloody fool I am. It was my bag. I put it down
on the bench, then I saw you and ran after you and forgot all about
it.
SETH: Oh no!
LISA: The laptop ... it was a present. For his birthday. There was a
cake too. And a card. How could I be such a donkey!
SETH: We've certainly made mistakes, both of us.
LISA: Tell me, are you in touch with your family?
SETH: We speak on Skype about once a week.
LISA: You're a good boy. A good son.
SETH: About that portrait. I've had an idea. I can paint you and
Johnny like a contemporary Mary and Jesus?
LISA: I'd like that. Johnny was a victim. A martyr. Do you know what
they said? They said he was a suicide bomber and the girl thought he
was going to blow up a bus and called the police. And when they got
there he blew himself up and killed a policemen. Do you think that's
what really happened? Or did they get it wrong?
SETH: I don't know.
LISA: I try not to believe it but deep in my heart I know it's true. I
know he did it. So you see, you can't paint him as Jesus. You can't
paint a suicide bomber as Jesus.
SETH: I suppose you're right. But I'd still like to paint you as
“motherly love”. I can paint you holding the flyer and call it “Have
you seen this man?”
LISA: Yes. No. Not the flyer. How about if I hold a photo - I've got
lots of photos - and it's called “Goodbye”?
SETH: I like that. You're on. We'll have to arrange about sittings.
Three or four. If I come here, is there some place I could use as a
studio?
LISA: We have a loft. You can come and see it if you want. You can
come now.
SETH: I'm meeting my girlfriend at six.
LISA: We can get a taxi at the shopping centre - it's not far, is it?
- if we take the right path. I can show you the loft and you can go
through the albums and choose what photos you want. And I'll drive you
to wherever you have to be by six. Or my husband will.
SETH: That won't be a problem?
LISA: No.
SETH: You're quite sure?
LISA: Yes. But when you see my daughter, when she gets back from
school, you
mustn't say a word about how I followed you. You mustn't tell my
husband either. Or that I fell over. I'll make up some story to
explain how we met. And you know nothing about the explosion, nothing
at all. If the media find out it was me they'll have a field day.
SETH: I won't give you away. I promise.
They get ready to leave, both perkier than at the beginning of the
scene, and exit together.
[End of Extract]