New Light Shine 9780300186048

Table of contents :
Contents
Foreword
Acknowledgments
New Light Shine

Citation preview

T H E YA L E DR A M A SER I ES

David Charles Horn Foundation The Yale Drama Series is funded by the generous support of the David Charles Horn Foundation, established in 2003 by Francine Horn to honor the memory of her husband, David. In keeping with David Horn’s lifetime commitment to the written word, the David Charles Horn Foundation commemorates his aspirations and achievements by supporting new initiatives in the literary and dramatic arts.

New Light Shine SHANNON MUR DOCH Foreword by John Guare

NEW HAVEN & LONDON

Copyright © 2012 by Shannon Murdoch. All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, including illustrations, in any form (beyond that copying permitted by Sections 107 and 108 of the U.S. Copyright Law and except by reviewers for the public press), without written permission from the publishers. Yale University Press books may be purchased in quantity for educational, business, or promotional use. For information, please e-mail sales.press@ yale.edu (U.S. office) or sales@ yaleup.co.uk (U.K. office). Set in ITC Galliard type by Duke & Company, Devon, Pennsylvania. Printed in the United States of America. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Murdoch, Shannon. New light shine / Shannon Murdoch ; foreword by John Guare. p. cm.—(Yale drama series) ISBN 978-0-300-18485-3 (pbk. : alk. paper) 1. Brothers and sisters— Drama. 2. Family secrets—Drama. 3. Violent crimes—Drama. I. Guare, John. II. Title. PR9619.4.M845N49 2012 822′.92—dc23 2012012160 A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. This paper meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48–1992 (Permanence of Paper). 10

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All inquiries concerning stock and amateur rights should be addressed to Shannon Murdoch at [email protected]. No stock or amateur performances of the play may be given without obtaining in advance the written permission of Shannon Murdoch, and paying the requisite fee.

For ACM and KDW, for everything

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Contents

Foreword, by John Guare ix

Acknowledgments

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New Light Shine

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Foreword

F

rancine Horn had the very good idea to establish a prize in honor of her late husband whose greatest ambition was to become a writer. His subsequent disappointment was never being published. Close, but never. He went into another line of work in which he found financial success. But that loose tooth was always there. After his death, Mrs. Horn, a very sprightly elfin powerhouse, took the advice of her lawyers and went to Yale University Press with the idea of founding a prize that would commemorate his memory by publishing new writers. John Kulka, a senior editor at the Press, told her that while fiction writers had many prizes open to them, playwrights were underrepresented as well as being underpublished. She leapt at his point. Was there a model to follow? Yes, look at the renowned Yale Series of Younger Poets, which annually publishes the work of a previously unpublished poet under the age of forty. It is the oldest literary prize in America. That prize has always been awarded by a sole judge who must be a recognized poet. Over the years Archibald MacLeish, W. H. Auden, W. S. Merwin, and Louise Glück have taken on that distinguished role. Since its inception

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in 1919 it has introduced the work of young unknown poets like Adrienne Rich, James Agee, W. S. Merwin, John Ashbery, and John Hollander. The David Charles Horn Foundation/Yale Drama Series Prize, mirroring the poetry prize, would honor an emerging playwright of the English-speaking world annually. Yale University Press would publish the chosen play; the playwright of choice would also receive a cash prize as well as a reading of the play in an established American theater with professional actors. Would it be only for playwrights under forty? No. There would be no ground rules involving age or gender or theme. The only qualification: the playwright who enters the contest cannot have been published or have had a major production of his or her work. The only qualification was the entrant had to be alive and unknown. There would be one judge, a playwright. Edward Albee was the obvious choice to go first, a position he held for two years; David Hare took on the task for another two years. They passed the baton on to me this past year. My god! The 2011 contest received over eight hundred new plays from around the English-speaking world. They came from some small town in the American Midwest or Seattle or Brooklyn or a village in Ireland or Australia or Canada, the midlands of England or the center of London. And they read about this contest and they all wanted to emerge—another way of saying, How do I get noticed? In this cacophony of voices out there, how will my play aka me—how will I be heard? Edward and David advised me to assemble a team of readers whose taste I trusted, whose theatrical acumen I respected, and whose sensibilities were not mirrors of mine. I got my team. People like Thomas Keith, who edited new editions of Tennessee Williams’s unpublished work for New Directions, to help me get through them. Jamie Phil-

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lips and Eric Louie, who read for the Public Theater. Young playwrights on the brink of emerging like Michael Mitnick, Kim Rosenstock, and Susan Stanton, who knew being readers made them not eligible. Yale University Press sent us the entries, split up among the readers and myself. We dove in. How not to get lost? I asked another of my readers, Mary Pat Walsh, who had worked as my assistant for eleven years, then ran Nora Ephron’s production company, and now worked for Stephen Sondheim, how she proceeded in the task of reading these hundreds of scripts. She answered: “I read first and foremost for a voice. My second criteria is, ‘Are they attempting to tackle a story or subject matter that is specific and challenging’—this does not mean to me that it has to be complex but that they are writing from an original place and have a sense of how to tell a story. Some of the plays may not be fully realized but I leave them on my list because of the reasons I just mentioned. After I’ve read all of my plays I go back and reread the ones that have ‘made the cut’ and then it helps me make decisions based on the level of craft when considering them side by side . . . and then the decisions are easier.” I sent this to my other readers as a guide. The voice. An original voice unlike any other voice. Let’s look for that first. Some of the voices were muted. Other voices were more troubling, brilliant ventriloquists writing plays that echoed a TV sitcom or mimicked with varying degrees of success Mamet’s or Pinter’s or Beckett’s inimitable voices. Some plays began beautifully. Yes! Is this the winner? Then the play would crumble. Turn sentimental. Become formulaic. Chicken out. Other plays lay on the page DOA. What were these people’s lives like? Had they ever seen a play? Where did they go to see theater? Why did they decide to write a play? Six weeks later we convened to review what we had read

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so far and pass on to the others those plays we felt worthy of a second look. Someone brought up a point. A few respected novelists whose names we knew had submitted first plays. Were they “emerging”? I thought of David Horn and his disappointment at never being published. I decided we must disqualify those entries. But the question floated in the air: Who does qualify as an emerging playwright? I had assumed in a snooty parochial way that the winner would be a recent graduate of one of the playwriting programs around the country: the Yale Drama School, the granddaddy of them all, which George Pierce Baker started at Harvard in the teens, attracting young aspirants such as Eugene O’Neill and Philip Barry. When Harvard unaccountably dropped it, Yale happily gave it a home in 1924 with a spanking new theater. For a long time Yale was the only game in town. But since the 1960s, playwriting programs have flourished all over the country. NYU/Tisch School of the Arts began a program for playwrights. Columbia, the New School followed suit. Playwrights even returned to Harvard at American Repertory Theater under the aegis of Robert Brustein. Terrence McNally and I started the tuition-free Juilliard playwriting program back in the ’90s. Marsha Norman and Christopher Durang have steered it brilliantly for two decades now. Paula Vogel chaired the successful program at Brown for an equal length of time; Tina Howe still runs the playwriting department at New York’s Hunter College, Lee Blessing at Rutgers. The University of Texas at Austin’s program for playwrights thrives under the guidance of Steven Dietz. I liked the idea of playwriting programs. It seems that once you’re accepted into a program such as any of these, you’ve begun emerging. Surely the winner would come from this pool. Or else from Chicago, that bottomless hotbed

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of theatrical tumult that had produced David Mamet and Tracy Letts. Not to mention the myriad of other programs around the country. The Royal Court in London regularly produces a steady crop of new playwrights. The National Theater under Nick Hytner encourages productions of new work. I didn’t know about Australia. Or New Zealand. Or Canada. But they must have their programs. I assumed the emerging playwright would come from one of these sources. And why wouldn’t I? I was a product of this route. I had gone to Yale Drama School from 1960 to 1963. Back in those ancient days, Broadway was the dreamed-of destination. That’s where A Streetcar Named Desire opened. That’s where Death of a Salesman began. But if that was the theater, it seemed a closed shop. Off Broadway was still a burgeoning phenomenon. Off-Off Broadway was in its infancy. Regional theaters like the Guthrie and the Mark Taper existed only on unimaginable drawing boards. How would I, an emerging playwright if there ever was one, find a place to work in 1963? In my last year at Yale, Audrey Wood, the legendary agent, who happened to be in New Haven, saw a play of mine at the Drama School, and signed me as a client! Better than my MFA from Yale was having the approval of Audrey Wood, whose eternal claim to fame would be her recognizing the talent of the young Tennessee Williams back in the 1930s. Miss Wood, as you called her, got me a slot in Edward Albee’s newly formed Playwrights Unit, which every week for six months of every year from 1964 to 1969 presented a new play at a theater in Greenwich Village. (NOTE: Helping new playwrights get their work seen was how Edward spent his royalty money from Virginia Woolf.) I had plays done at the Caffee Cino, which along with La Mama defined this new thing called Off-Off Broadway. In 1965 I became one of the twenty playwrights selected, along with Lanford Wilson and Sam Shepard, to start the Eugene O’Neill Playwrights Center in Waterford, Connecticut, which still flourishes to

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this day. In 1966 I showed the first act of The House of Blue Leaves at the O’Neill, which got me a Rockefeller Grant. I had emerged. I began a life as a working playwright. I can trace it all back to the ministrations of Audrey Wood. So I liked the idea of playwriting programs. It seems that once you’re accepted into a program such as any of the ones I’ve mentioned, you’re on a fast track to emerging. I have this image of a chick pecking like mad to emerge from his or her prison of a shell and get started on life. But what about these writers whose plays I was in the august position of judging who did not have the fortune to study at a recognized temple of art. How would they get a leg up? There comes a time when a writer needs a simple Yes to keep on going. I wondered about my heroes when they were emerging. Eugene O’Neill had The Provincetown Playhouse to give him the necessary Yes. I thought of the boost Arthur Miller’s winning of the Avery Hopwood playwriting prize gave him while he was a student at University of Michigan. Imagine a young Tennessee Williams reading in Saint Louis an announcement of a playwriting contest in far-off New York City sponsored by the Group Theater, the home of Clifford Odets and Elia Kazan. He blindly sent in a group of one-act plays and won the first prize of $100, not to mention the attention of the miraculous Audrey Wood. In the ’60s, Lanford Wilson and Sam Shepard did not go to any drama school. They came to New York and started writing. A brand new Off-Off Broadway movement in coffeehouses was there to catch them. In David Mamet’s case, Chicago’s theater world gave him his first stage. The director Mel Shapiro found David Rabe’s work in a pile of plays and brought them to Joe Papp and the newly formed NY Public Theater. The Yale Drama Series Prize just might provide that necessary Yes. That for me would be the key to selecting a winner. This prize could be the trumpet blast announcing a new voice, the all-important Yes an unrecognized playwright

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needs, the one who might not have the chance of recognition because of geography, because of life, because of luck. Would the winner come from the drama schools or the streets? I hoped we’d find a writer who had fallen between the cracks. I’m all for Affirmative Action in the school system but that would have no place here. But no, the prize would not be a charity award. No, the best play, regardless of its route, would win. And then I picked up a play called New Light Shine. The playwright, Shannon Murdoch, lived in Footscray, Australia. Mary Pat Walsh had pointed out the play. I read it, put it aside, went back to it, couldn’t get it out of my head. It was— it was so odd. It wasn’t like anyone else’s play. A brother and sister were trapped in a past horror. He dreamt of a liberating future, a new light shining that would free him. His sister could not let it go. And what I found most interesting was her choosing not to let it go. The play had no recognition scene where change was foisted on the woman. Her battle not to lose the past, not to change, but to keep the horror alive, surprised me, interested me, moved me in a way no other entry did. I thought of Mary Pat Walsh’s guidelines. New Light Shine had a distinct voice, was by a truly emerging author, its subject was indeed challenging, it had a distinct sense of craft. And now you hold a copy of it in your hands. In the fall of 2011, Shannon Murdoch made the twentyone-hour flight from Melbourne to New Haven to receive her award and don’t forget the check and attend a reading of her play at the Yale Rep. I was happy to meet her face-to-face and ask her about herself. She told me she received a Bachelor of Creative Arts in Theatre and Creative Writing at Griffith University in the Australian state of Queensland and then studied playwriting in 2005 at the National Institute of Dramatic Art in Sydney, a school that counts Cate Blanchett and Judy Davis among its graduates. I noted that while the world seems to be open territory

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for Australian actors, I knew of no emerging Australian playwrights.

What is the life of a young playwright like in Australia? What opportunities are opened to you? It’s hard. It’s hard for every playwright in the world but I think it’s hard here. We have a handful of competitions and we have the National Play Festival but getting productions at the major theater companies seems to be difficult for young playwrights. At least I know it has been for me. I’ve had one full-length produced here in Melbourne which I co-produced myself.

Are you connected to a theater company? No. In my experience, none of the major theater companies in Australia has an open submission policy. We have Playwriting Australia, a development organization who does a great job, but they are wholly separate from any theater company. If you want it done here in Australia, chances are you will have to do it yourself.

How do you balance your day job with your writing life? I don’t think I do it very well but then again I wrote plays and paid my bills. But it’s not the writing time you lose when you have a day job, it’s the thinking time. I’m not in a day job at the moment—thank you, Yale—and the thing I’m enjoying the most is staring into space for long periods of time, just thinking my thoughts.

What was the genesis of New Light Shine? I can remember when it jumped into my head—I was standing outside my day job and two characters—a brother and a sister—started talking about their dead mother. The phrase “mad old cunt” over and over again. That’s how it began.

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As it developed over numerous drafts I really focused on the character of Peregrine and it became her story. I like writing about women whom people/society want to change and how those women resist that change with everything they have. It wasn’t based on a real incident but when I was writing it, there was a string of bizarre murders in mundane Melbourne suburbs that no doubt influenced the story. I haven’t seen any productions of it yet/It hasn’t been produced yet. It was workshopped at the National Play Festival in Melbourne and then this reading at Yale . . . so far. But I have hope. Lots and lots of hope.

Did your winning the Yale Drama Series Award open any doors that had not been opened before?  Since the announcement, I’ve been contacted with requests for the script from about a hundred theaters—all of them in the U.S. and U.K.—and mainly from companies that I wouldn’t have dreamed of approaching on my own. So the big thing, for me, is developing relationships with these companies and building a future. Also, it’s been such an incredible confidence booster which doesn’t sound like much but has changed my writing and the way I go about it. I’m being bold in my writing, I’m challenging myself and I’m writing better than I ever have.

What do you tell yourself each day that enables you to write your best—a mantra, a quote, a bit of wisdom? I have a quote from the playwright Adam Rapp above my desk: “. . . You have to realize that there’s nothing in it other than the love of doing it. I fell in love with playwriting because it’s a magical space that stories could happen in. There’s no money; it’s about poverty. So if you don’t enjoy sitting in a chair and trying to figure out how to make people not leave, or leave, or do things to each other, you’re probably not going to like it.”

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It seemed right: this young playwright in Footscray, Australia, being inspired by a young playwright in New York City. Thank you, Francine Horn, for honoring your husband. Thank you, Yale University Press, for making the prize real. Shannon Murdoch of Footscray, Australia: Consider yourself emerged.

John Guare

Acknowledgments

M

y deepest thanks to the people and organizations who have given their time, skills, and insight to the development of this play, including Juliet Lamont, John Fraser, the National Play Festival (Chris Mead, Artistic Director), the David Charles Horn Foundation, Yale Repertory Theatre, Yale University Press, Jackson Gay, Amy Boratko, Jennifer Kiger, Tobias Segal, Emily Dorsch, Sarah Sokolovic, Alec Beard, and Hannah Rae Montgomery. Special thanks to Michael Grigg for his love, his care, and his superior proofreading skills.

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New Light Shine

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Characters

Anna Peregrine Joe Oscar

Staging The lounge room of a small house. A couch. A jail cell. A bed. The meeting room in a jail. A pot plant in the corner. A field on the edge of town. The bedroom of a small apartment. An office. A large sash window hangs between all the spaces.

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ACT I

Scene One joe stands in the jail cell he shares with Old Billy (unseen). peregrine stands in the field, smoking a cigarette. anna, half-dressed for work, sits on the edge of the bed in the apartment. Silence, stillness. And then . . . JOE  ARE YOU KIDDING ME? peregrine puts out her cigarette on the ground. peregrine and joe pace in their own spaces. JOE  I mean, had it sorted you know. I mean fuck, had it sorted. All in my head and I was ready. I was fucking ready. joe stalks over to the window. He tries to look through it. Walks away. JOE  Fuck it, you can’t see a thing. Is this part of it? Is this on purpose? Because I don’t understand. I’m not . . . A fucking real window. That you can look out of . . . I’m asking. I’m standing here asking.

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peregrine exits. JOE  Because it’s simple, isn’t it? Because it’s simple . . . Because if you are going to have a window, if you are going to go to all the trouble of putting a window into a fucking wall, which I imagine, I’m only imagining is not a simple thing, then wouldn’t it make sense—Am I crazy? Am I the crazy one?—to put in a window a person could actually look out of . . . They really want it all, don’t they? Think you’re a bunch of clever bastards but you won’t get me. I’m strong. And I got plans. And you can do what you want but neither one of those things is going to change. joe goes back to the window. Stares, rubs it vigorously, gets frustrated, walks away. JOE  Had it in my head. You know what I mean? Went through it, bit by bit, so I could be ready . . . Cause this is just a moment. Just one, and it will be over before you know it and then . . . then the future will happen . . . So say what you want, Killer, Killer, Killer, say it all now because this moment is this close to being gone and when it is, the only person speaking will be me. joe goes to the window again. JOE  My sister is coming. Peregrine. You ever heard of a name like that? You ever heard of Peregrine? . . . Story goes, it’s a great story, you wait till you hear this. Story goes Dad went on his fi rst and only bushwalk just before Peregrine was born. Said he hated it. Said it was for people not in the know. Cause the greatest inventions that had consistently proved crucial to man’s contentment was the television, the couch and the stubby of cold beer. Nothing in nature, he said. And then he said it again . . . Never did say why he went on a bushwalk. If you had known him you would have said straight up he was the least likely person. But he did, did the whole thing, hated every

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second and when he had just about enough, well of course that’s when he saw it . . . Said proof there was a God. According to Dad and this is not a word of a lie, the Peregrine Falcon was God’s work. Wouldn’t be talked out of it. Wouldn’t even discuss it. Sat down on the couch with his cold, cold beer and said . . . We are honoring God. joe starts pacing again. JOE  Peregrine’ll come when she hears this. She’ll read the paper or watch the TV. Probably got herself a little box. It’s on everywhere. Every channel. Murder is still pretty interesting isn’t it? . . . Yeah. Yeah. joe goes to the window. JOE  Thought I might watch for her. Had it in my head. Just stand at the window and see her. Just see her appear . . . That would have been something, wouldn’t it? joe sits down on his bed. JOE  Yeah. That would have been something.

Scene Two anna sits in the same position on the bed. Today’s newspaper is on the bed next to her. ANNA  Puss Puss . . . Here Puss Puss. Offstage, a box collapsing to the floor is heard. OSCAR  (Offstage.) Fuck. ANNA  You are going to clean this up aren’t you? All this mess? . . . Oscar? Oscar, you are going to get rid of the mess aren’t you? . . . Today? . . . It won’t feel like home until the mess has gone . . . You’re not going to start writing today are you? I mean, I don’t want to . . . If you are then . . . I’m fully supportive. I think writing a novel is . . . well, it’s wonderful, isn’t it? It’s just really . . . We’ll be at the Booker dinner this time next year. Don’t you think? Because it makes sense. It just really makes sense. As a life choice. oscar enters holding an old ratty teddy bear and a thick psychology textbook. OSCAR  Were you talking? ANNA  Mess. As oscar talks, anna hides the newspaper. She tries a few spots before finding one that suits her.

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OSCAR  I know. But what can you do? It’s so big it’s magnificent. It’s almost a form of careless art. ANNA  What? OSCAR  Careless art. It’s a thing. We went to that exhibition back when we lived in civilization. But what can you do? ANNA  Clean it up? OSCAR  Because you get to a certain age don’t you? And when that day comes, maybe it is the day that your girlfriend, although I hate that word. Makes me think of Chelsea Livingworth who let me feel her breasts because she “trusted me,” and was this close to sucking me off until her mother read her diary and sent her to live with her grandmother. That’s a girlfriend. ANNA  Oscar— OSCAR  So not one’s girlfriend, one’s . . . partner? No. Too clean. Too pure. Too nothing like me at all. ANNA  Oscar, do you think we’re getting away from the point? OSCAR  Lover? ANNA  What? OSCAR  I’d like to call you my lover Anna. I’d like that a lot because you are the greatest person in the world to fuck. But I get the feeling if I started dropping the “l” word into conversation, your skin would blush all over and you’d tell company I am overmedicating myself. ANNA  Yes. Probably.

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OSCAR  God, are we going to have any company here? ANNA  . . . I don’t know. Can we talk about the mess Oscar? OSCAR  That day, when your . . . significant other?, god help us, turns to you, and says, “Oh by the way, and let’s not make a huge deal of it, but I’ve taken a job in some god forsaken hole that I used to call home.” And you look at her in a weird, slightly creepy way, because you can’t seem to fi nd the words “That is a fucking terrible idea” or “Nice. Have fun. Send a postcard.” You look and you notice for the fi rst time, is it the fi rst time? It seems like it although you can’t be sure of anything because you have some small child inside your brain and it is screaming. In pain. Or out of boredom. You can’t tell because this little demon also has its feet in your chest, and it’s thumping on it good and hard and you are pretty sure that you are three little seconds away from your heart and your mind quite literally exploding. Then someone tells you, maybe it is your mother, that what you are experiencing is love and the threat of that love being taken away . . . You’ve always been convinced that one day your mother will utter something bordering on wisdom, so maybe today is that day. So you believe it, you believe it with everything, and it’s wonderful because the screaming and the thumping stop. Stop dead. And in the silence you can see, you can fi nally see just how much stuff your life is. ANNA  That’s mine. Not the bear but the book. Is the bear yours? You seem like a tucked up tight in bed with a teddy bear kind of person. OSCAR  You don’t know why, and you really don’t want to, so you quickly shove it in some boxes, quit your job and declare that you are going to write THE novel. You shove it all in and drive you and your . . . other half? . . . your unstarted novel and all this STUFF to the god-

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forsaken place that your . . . girlfriend, yes your fucking girlfriend, used to call home and now . . . now you do too . . . It’s hot. Is it always this hot? oscar rushes to the window and opens it. anna stands up. ANNA  The cat. OSCAR  And the cat. On top of it all, a cat. anna moves around the bedroom, looking for the cat. oscar follows her. ANNA  Have you seen Puss? OSCAR  Anna, I am knee-deep out there. Knee-deep. ANNA  Puss? Puss, are you there? anna gets down on her hands and knees and looks under the bed. OSCAR  It does it on purpose. You know that don’t you? anna crawls further under the bed. OSCAR  I know. The cat has abandonment issues. We have to be compassionate toward the cat. The cat needs time. The cat needs love. We’re doing something good. For a cat . . . You know if I ever fi nd those fucking idiots that left it in a plastic bag, I’ll thump them with this very large textbook of cognitive behavior. Cognitive that, you bastards. anna wiggles her ass trying to get further under the bed. oscar notices. He stops, watches anna’s ass move.

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OSCAR  Anna. ANNA  He’s under here. Puss? Puss, come out now. OSCAR  You don’t really have to front up to work today, do you? ANNA  Puss? Come on . . . (To oscar.) What? OSCAR  Nothing . . . I’m just thinking how nice it would be to fuck you right now, amid the rubble of our lives. What do you think? A welcome to the end of it all fuck? ANNA  Oscar? OSCAR  Yes? ANNA  Would you mind terribly not checking out my ass, and perhaps instead, doing something useful, such as going to the kitchen and getting some Kitty Bits so I can try and lure out our very confused and frightened cat? OSCAR  Ours? ANNA  Oscar! OSCAR  Fine. oscar exits. anna remains under the bed. ANNA  It’s alright Puss. Oscar has gone to get the Kitty Bits. You’ll be fi ne once you get some Kitty Bits, won’t you? Kitty Bits solve everything. Sorry Puss. It wasn’t meant to go this way. There was a plan. There is a plan. Don’t worry Puss. I’ll get you back home. I’ll . . . Jesus.

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Oscar? Don’t do that Puss. Don’t . . . Oscar, where are the Kitty Bits? Just hold on Puss. Oscar? I think . . . Oscar I think the cat is starting to chew off its own paw. oscar rushes in, holding a photograph. OSCAR  THERE ARE NO KITTY BITS! ANNA  What? Of course there are Kitty Bits Oscar. There are always Kitty Bits. OSCAR  No Kitty Bits. Not a one. Which is a shock, I know, but on the bright side I did fi nd this rather delectable picture in a box marked kitchen. Of you and a mysterious and somewhat familiar boy. anna scrambles out from under the bed. ANNA  Give that back. Give that back right now. OSCAR  Oh look. You’ve gone red all over. Just like you do. ANNA  Oscar. Oscar, I’m warning you. oscar stops. OSCAR  Warning me? . . . It’s just a picture Anna. You’re not even naked in it. Although you do look like you want to be. ANNA  This is unbelievable. That was locked. A locked box Oscar. OSCAR  No. It wasn’t. ANNA  Is that who you are? Is that really who you are?

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OSCAR  . . . I never picked you for the naughty schoolgirl. Shame you weren’t Catholic or else you’d be perfect. Completely perfect. ANNA  Give it back. OSCAR  Why? ANNA  Just . . . You can’t go just . . . Rifl ing— OSCAR  Rifl ing? I’ve never rifled. ANNA  Rifl ing through other people’s belongings. Especially when there is a padlock on them. Some things are private. OSCAR  Private? Oh no. No, no, no. Going to have to correct you there Anna. Nothing is private anymore. Not between you and me. ANNA  Just give it back Oscar. OSCAR  Because what we are, what we now stand here as, in this place, this . . . What we are Anna is two hearts that have become one soul. ANNA  You can be such a fuck. OSCAR  A pulsating, slightly quivering soul . . . Why do I know this boy? Have I met him? ANNA  You’re going to make me late. On my fi rst day of my fi rst proper job, you are being a fuck and making me late. OSCAR  I’m just trying to make the point Anna that we now stand before each other as open books, willing and

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eager to be read out loud by the other. We are a team. You and me against the world, and all that. All that Anna! anna stops. ANNA  Fine. anna turns to the mirror and puts on her makeup. oscar looks at the photo. OSCAR  He’s cute. He’s one of those cute boys. I wasn’t like that. Although I begged God on a very regular basis. ANNA  You’re making too much of this. Again. You get hooked on the tiniest things and then . . . He’s just a person Oscar. You know, how there are just people? They come into your life and for a moment it’s everything. It’s just every last thing . . . But then you go, or they go, and it is over. And it doesn’t really matter. It ends up just not being anything much at all. Beat. Lights up on peregrine. She sits on the couch in Ma’s house. She squirms, she fidgets, she stands up and paces around, sits back down again. oscar puts the picture next to anna and then sits on the bed. OSCAR  Stay home. ANNA  Oscar. OSCAR  I don’t know what I’m doing. What do I do? ANNA  Clean up the mess.

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OSCAR  And then? ANNA  Start your novel. And buy Kitty Bits. In fact, put that fi rst. I don’t want to come home to a cat with one less paw. oscar goes to the window. OSCAR  We’re really doing this aren’t we? ANNA  I wish I could be here. I do. Settle in. Help. But they are desperate. You should have heard my supervisor. “We need you, like yesterday.” OSCAR  I don’t even know where to get a cup of coffee. Do they have coffee here? ANNA  Of course there is coffee Oscar. It’s not nowhere. OSCAR  No. No, but it is one of those places. Smell it. You can smell it, can’t you? Old men . . . Old men with ill-fitting clothes counting down the minutes to the fi rst beer of the day. And teenagers, so many of them they seem to breed just standing there. And that’s all they do. Just stand there. Clumps of oily flesh, waiting for a new violence to end their boredom. peregrine goes to the window. peregrine and oscar face each other. PEREGRINE  It’s the eyes. They’ll look all over and right through you. Stare hard at just all of it, every last bit without shame or humiliation. Look and stare and look until there’s nothing left to think but . . . It’s you. You’re the one that must feel shame. You’re the one that should be humiliated. You’re the one.

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anna turns away from the mirror and puts on the rest of her clothes. ANNA  It’s not as bad as it looks. That’s only the surface. Underneath, deep down, there really is something quite special. Magical even. oscar turns from the window. OSCAR  Let’s go home. No, really. I didn’t hate being an accountant, and I’ll buy us a ticket to the Booker. I’m sure they scalp them on eBay. anna goes to oscar. She holds his face in her hands. ANNA  But I’m going to fi x it. I’m going to fi x it all. Dig up the magic . . . You can go though. Go at any time and no one will ever hold it against you. anna gathers up her things, including a very large tote bag and the newspaper. oscar picks up the photo. OSCAR  I know— ANNA  Good. This place, it’s not for everyone. I tried to tell you, but as long as you know now, I guess . . . OSCAR  That boy . . . He’s the guy out of the paper. The boy. Where’s the paper? The murderer. The guy in your picture, the boy, he’s the murderer . . . Anna? ANNA  It’s good Oscar. All of it. If you want to go, just go, and all will be good. anna exits. oscar runs after her.

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OSCAR  Anna? What does this mean? Anna? . . . What do I do?

Scene Three The meeting room of a jail. A table and two chairs bolted to the ground. joe sits on a chair, one arm handcuffed to the table. He speaks to a guard (unseen). JOE  She is coming, isn’t she? I mean . . . Not some joke. That’s what I’m asking. Not some joke. Because that would be . . . Okay. It’s okay, because she was never very good with time . . . “I’ll get there when I get there.” That’s her. That’s her all over . . . I remember one time— peregrine enters. joe stands up. PEREGRINE  Hello Joe. joe tries to speak but has no words. Eventually, he nods at her. peregrine goes to the pot plant in the corner. PEREGRINE  Is that . . . There’s a pot plant. JOE  And the windows don’t work. PEREGRINE  It’s actually a pot plant. A fucking pot plant in a jail . . . I don’t know what to say about that. JOE  Peregrine?

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PEREGRINE  A pot plant in a jail? That’s not right. Is that supposed to be right? JOE  . . . I don’t know. PEREGRINE  That’s not right. That . . . That should not be there. JOE  Okay. Okay, well . . . Okay, see— peregrine comes back to the table. PEREGRINE  What’s all this about Joe? . . . Joe? JOE  (To the guard.) She’s a curve. Gets there when she gets there. And she does. Look. She always does. But it’s a curve, and you want a straight line. You want her just there, but she can’t. She just can’t do it. Because she’s a curve. peregrine sits down. PEREGRINE  Joe— JOE  Remember? Remember me calling up the stairs. Always doing that. Peregrine? Peregrine? PEREGRINE  Joe— JOE  Come down, and let’s go. Let’s go now Peregrine? Peregrine? And you, you say . . . joe waits for peregrine to answer. JOE  So you’ve just got to wait. Because she’s not a straight line. Beat.

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PEREGRINE  Can you smoke in here? joe nods. PEREGRINE  Well, thank Christ for that. peregrine lights up. PEREGRINE  They’re stopping it everywhere you know. Out there. The do-gooders are winning even though the rest of us are putting up a fight . . . Are you going to keep standing? joe sits down. peregrine smokes. PEREGRINE  Well . . . she’s in the ground. JOE  Sorry? PEREGRINE  Ma. Made sure of that . . . Mad Old Cunt. JOE  Yeah. Yeah, Mad Old Cunt. Remember? Remember that’s what we used to call her? PEREGRINE  Saw you on TV. JOE  Did you? I said you would. I said that to Old Billy. PEREGRINE  So had to go see her put in the ground. Told them to make sure the hole was good and deep so there was no way she could fi nd her way out . . . If anyone could. JOE  Peregrine? . . . You look good Peregrine. You look really good. Beat.

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peregrine laughs, mocking. JOE  What? PEREGRINE  (Mocking joe.) You look good Peregrine. JOE  You do. PEREGRINE  Yeah, I’m a real fucking beauty queen. JOE  No. No, I wasn’t having a laugh. I mean it Peregrine. I really . . . PEREGRINE  Finally gone and lost your marbles on me Joe? JOE  No. PEREGRINE  Ma fi nally turn you into a loony tune? JOE  Mad Old Cunt. PEREGRINE  Should have seen them. Should have seen them all . . . Moaning and weeping. And the ferals. Should have seen them. Practically formed their own little sob choir. JOE  Are they alright? The children? I thought I would have some time to explain it to them, but it was over. It was all over. PEREGRINE  If you didn’t know any better you would say they missed the old viper. JOE  No. PEREGRINE  If you saw it, if you stood at the back and watched it all, you would say . . .

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JOE  Peregrine— PEREGRINE  They loved her. JOE  No Peregrine. PEREGRINE  Loved living with her and loved having that life. It was a good thing, a good and great thing to snatch them and hand them over to the Mad Old Cunt. Even though they weren’t hers and were never anything to do with her. JOE  No Peregrine. No. Don’t say that. PEREGRINE  And the singing. That’s when I really started to lose it. Did you know that they sang at these things? Like, a lot. JOE  No. No, I didn’t know that. PEREGRINE  Bet she planned it that way. No wham bam in the ground you go ma’am. I mean . . . Mad. Old. Cunt. Wanted to say that at the goddamn musical. Wanted to scream it. But you couldn’t get a word in between the Wasn’t she wonderful? Wasn’t she the most wonderful fucking thing ever? Swear to god, could have murdered the lot of them. Beat. peregrine stands up. JOE  Peregrine? PEREGRINE  I should go. joe stands up.

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JOE  No. What? No. Where are you going? You just got here. No. PEREGRINE  I’ll catch the train. JOE  What? PEREGRINE  I’ll get the train back. Tonight. The late one that goes. I think the late one still goes. JOE  Peregrine— PEREGRINE  Anyway . . . Jesus Joe. I wish that I could . . . JOE  Peregrine. PEREGRINE  I mean, I don’t have any money or anything . . . The last guy took off in the middle of the night. Just like some fucked up Country and Western song. Had all my money in a tin, which is stupid, I know, so there’s no need to tell me anything about that. Woke up, I just woke up and it was a Wednesday and I was back to square one. JOE  Peregrine . . . Peregrine? PEREGRINE  What Joe? JOE  It’s all going to be okay. In fact, it’s going to be better than that. It’s going to be . . . PEREGRINE  . . . She’s in the ground Joe. Right in deep. So I’ll just get the last train. JOE  No Peregrine— PEREGRINE  This place . . . Because this place is—

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JOE  I’ve got it all sorted. Worked out in my head. I’ve been telling it to Old Billy. They put me in the same room as him when I fi rst arrived which, I can tell you, he was not happy about. But we’ve talked. Or I talk and he listens, and neither of us seem to mind about that. PEREGRINE  Told myself that it wouldn’t matter. Told myself not now. Not . . . But this place. Just a moment of this fucking place and . . . JOE  He got the whole story. Beginning to end and all of the in between. Didn’t take long. See, you think and think and think about things, and then they become more complicated than things really should be. So it’s been good. To just say them all out loud, beginning, end, and all of it, and now everything is sorted. It’s sorted. PEREGRINE  I have to go. JOE  No— PEREGRINE  I have to go from this place. JOE  It will only take a minute. It’s been so long. Only a minute Peregrine, and I’ll tell you it all. Please. Let me tell you it all. Please. Beat. peregrine sits down. JOE  You went away Peregrine. peregrine stands up. JOE  No. No, listen. It’s not that I want to talk about. I don’t care anymore. It’s gone. Gone. Don’t you see? Because I’ve got rid of the past, gone, and now we have

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only the future . . . Don’t you see Peregrine? I’ve made the future. I’ve got rid of everything that stood in its way. Stopped it, and now all we have is . . . New Light Shine . . . I gave it a name. The future. peregrine looks around the jail, looks at everything. JOE  Don’t look at that. At this. It’s all just now, just this moment. See, I’m going to explain it all. To the judge or the jury or the whole world if I have to. I will. I’ll explain why this had to happen, and I’m going to take my time and no one is going to hurry me up or tell me to stop screaming . . . Because this is my day. It will be my day. peregrine walks to the pot plant. JOE  You’ve got to trust me Peregrine. You’ve got to . . . I don’t want to talk about the past, I don’t want to go back, we have been back for too long. Our whole lives we have been one moment, just one fucking moment and I hate it so much it had to die. Do you understand? . . . Peregrine? PEREGRINE  I want to tell you something Joe. I want to tell you something that means something. I want to tell you that it’ll be alright, that you’ll get through this, that you just have to have hope . . . But I know that none of those things are true. And I think that lying is probably worse than saying nothing at all. peregrine walks toward the exit. JOE  You’ve got to trust me Peregrine. You’ve got to trust that I have this sorted, that this is in my head and it’s all very clear. peregrine stops.

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PEREGRINE  There’s nothing I can do about it. Is there? . . . Are you waiting for me to do something? JOE  No. PEREGRINE  I feel it coming up. Up from the black and I don’t like it. I don’t . . . What do you want from me Joe? JOE  Nothing . . . It’s not like that Peregrine. PEREGRINE  It’s got to be nothing Joe. Because nothing is all I’ve got. peregrine exits. joe tries to go after her but he can’t move from where he is. JOE  No. No, Peregrine. Come back . . . You just have to trust me. You . . . Peregrine! Peregrine, think about New Light Shine. Just think about. Say the words to yourself. Just say them over and over. Peregrine? Will you do that? Will you say the words? . . . New Light Shine . . . New Light Shine. Just keep saying it. Make it sing. New Light Shine. Make it sing loud and clear so everyone hears it. New Light Shine, New Light Shine, New Light Shine . . .

Scene Four anna stands in an office. She holds an extremely large, overstuffed file. ANNA  Wow . . . I mean, god, it’s terrible. Shocking . . . And complicated. But wow. I mean, look at it. Just look at it . . . One girl. All of this . . . I’ll begin with some formulating questions. Slowly, slowly. No one is making decisions today are they? No. Just to feel around the situation. That’s all. Just see where everyone is at. It’s . . . mess, isn’t it? Just . . . mess. I mean . . . Wow. anna’s phone rings. ANNA  Now, after I’ve . . . Don’t worry about that. It’s just . . . It’s nothing important. anna’s phone stops ringing. ANNA  Right. After I’ve fi nished with the formulating questions, I’ll move on to some specifics. About the future. Tomorrow, and the day after that. Slowly, slowly of course. I’m here to help. anna’s phone starts ringing again. ANNA  Did I mention that I grew up here? I’m sure I put that on the application. anna’s phone stops ringing.

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ANNA  Anyway, I think it will help. There’s not a confl ict of interest so there is nothing it can do but help. Don’t you think? . . . Just one girl. Amazing, isn’t it? anna’s phone starts ringing again. ANNA  But it’s the children, isn’t it? Just one girl, and all these children. I mean, have you heard of renting a movie? . . . Sorry. That was . . . anna’s phone stops ringing. ANNA  It’s the children. The poor children who have lost the only mother they have ever known. Ma. That’s what they call her. Everyone loved Ma. Well obviously not her actual children, seeing as though one broke her heart again and again. And the other killed her . . . allegedly . . . I’m going to go right now. Get this started. I can’t wait to get this started. Lights down on anna. Lights up on oscar in the bedroom. He calls anna on his phone. OSCAR  Anna? Anna, are you there? Anna, I need to talk to you. The cat is still under the bed and I’ve read the paper. Not the paper that you took with you. Did you take the paper? Did you think there was only one paper? . . . Anna? Anna, I went to get Kitty Bits. There are no Kitty Bits. I repeat, NO KITTY BITS . . . Anna, this place, this place has . . . nothing. No Kitty Bits, no place to get a cup of coffee and read the paper. What kind of place hasn’t heard of nonfat milk? I’m asking. I’m really asking . . . So I had to get the paper without getting a coffee. And I hate that Anna. I really hate that. It’s unnatural . . . Anna? Anna, are you still there? . . .

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oscar hangs up. He speaks to the cat who is still under the bed. OSCAR  You’re still there, aren’t you? Didn’t decide to jump out the window and seek revenge on all that have wronged you? Didn’t become a homicidal maniac did you? Because I think this wretched pit of hopelessness has enough of them. oscar closes the window. OSCAR  Just in case. oscar sits on the bed, sulks. oscar stands up, starts pacing, calls anna again. Waits for the voice mail. OSCAR  Murdered his mother. And some guy . . . But you knew that didn’t you? oscar hangs up. Paces. Calls anna back. OSCAR  Stabbed his mother through the heart. Stabbed the guy in the eye. IN THE EYE! That’s a horror movie Anna. One of those real horror movies that the Japanese do. IN THE EYE! I wouldn’t even think of doing that. In the heart, in the back, but in the eye? And you have a happy snap with him . . . I think the cat chewed off its paw . . . The cat didn’t chew off its paw. I don’t know why I said that. Can you just call me? I’m thinking crazy. I’m thinking about a knife IN THE EYE. Call me and tell me something else to think about. oscar hangs up, flops onto the bed.

Scene Five peregrine lies on the couch, asleep. Offstage, loud, insistent knocking at the front door of Ma’s house. anna appears at the window. She peers in, and sees peregrine on the couch. She knocks at the window. ANNA  Hello? . . . Pere—Miss Betts? Miss? Could you . . . It’s Anna. Anna Brammell? . . . I’m from the Department of . . . Hello? anna tries to open the window, but can’t. anna attacks the window, using all of her strength to force it open. She throws the tote bag with the file in it through the window and climbs in after it. She stands in the room and studies the sleeping peregrine. anna is about to approach peregrine when her phone starts to ring. She scrambles to find it in her bag. Bits of the file go flying. She doesn’t seem to notice the chaos she is creating around her. anna finds the phone and tries to switch it off but can’t find the right button. Pushes the answer button instead. oscar sits up on the bed. OSCAR  You’re there!

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ANNA  Can’t— OSCAR  You’re right there aren’t you? ANNA  Really, really can’t— OSCAR  You’re there, you’re there, you’re there— As anna is speaking, peregrine wakes up. She sits on the couch and watches anna. ANNA  Look, I’ll be home before you know it. We’ll go out for dinner. I know plenty of places but we’ll fi nd one. We’ll make it ours. Years from now we will sit there and say, this is the place that we shared our fi rst meal, and we’ll laugh because the food will be terrible and we will have found better places because we’ll be locals by then but we’ll still go there because it’s special. OSCAR  Anna— ANNA  Okay then. See you for that. If you are there. If you decide to go, just go. Don’t even leave a note. Okay then. Bye. anna hangs up the phone, sees peregrine. ANNA  Sorry about that. PEREGRINE  A guy? ANNA  Sorry? PEREGRINE  On the phone. A guy? ANNA  Oh. Well, yes, but— PEREGRINE  Thought so.

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ANNA  It’s nothing. PEREGRINE  But he’s trying, isn’t he? ANNA  Sorry? PEREGRINE  Trying to make it something. Right? ANNA  Well . . . PEREGRINE  In my experience, making something out of nothing is all they’ll ever be good for. And I know that, you know that. You’re there dressed in a suit. You’ve got the hair and the shoes and not enough makeup on. We all know what they’re doing, but they make it seem so wonderful, like they are reinventing the whole fucking world just for you, but they never are, they’ll never do that . . . It’s just puffi ng. They’re just puffi ng up nothing to make it look like something. Beat. ANNA  Well . . . PEREGRINE  Fucking assholes. peregrine stands up, stretches, shows more flesh than is appropriate but doesn’t seem concerned. anna doesn’t want to stare but of course does. peregrine walks around the space. anna follows her. ANNA  Miss Betts— PEREGRINE  You here for the house? ANNA  . . . Sorry?

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PEREGRINE  You’re in a suit. You’re here for something. ANNA  Well— PEREGRINE  Not the funeral I hope. Cause you’ve missed that sing-song madness. ANNA  Miss Betts— PEREGRINE  Please don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that. That’s what soulless fuckwits from a department call me when they are going to do something to make me hate everything. ANNA  Well . . . PEREGRINE  And everything I hate is now so far down in the ground the dark is the only light. ANNA  Sorry? PEREGRINE  Sorry, sorry, sorry. ANNA  Look— PEREGRINE  That’s another thing, isn’t it? Another thing the assholes will do to you. Make you sorry, sorry, sorry for the fucking world they didn’t create. ANNA  Let’s just— PEREGRINE  But you don’t seem that type. With your hair cut to frame your face and your shoes that are brand new and cutting right through to the bone . . . Your professionally fitted bra, your stockings that stretch across your legs and make you feel protected from something you can never name . . .

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ANNA  I’m Anna Brammell. PEREGRINE  Your hips, your lips, your— ANNA  I’m from the Department of Community Health, Wellbeing and Harmony— PEREGRINE  What? ANNA  We’ve just changed the name. PEREGRINE  Really? ANNA  It’s more in line now with our objectives. PEREGRINE  Should have known. Should have— ANNA  The future. PEREGRINE  What? ANNA  We are all about the future. PEREGRINE  Are you now? ANNA  Yes. We have a mission statement. PEREGRINE  I’m getting a train. ANNA  I have a— anna rifles through her bag. PEREGRINE  The last train. I have to be on the last train. anna pulls out a badge and thrusts it at peregrine.

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Beat. peregrine snatches it off her. PEREGRINE  . . . Anna Brammell. ANNA  Yes. PEREGRINE  Social worker. ANNA  With accreditation as a child protection specialist. anna steps closer to peregrine. ANNA  Do you remember me? PEREGRINE  What? anna steps back. ANNA  It’s for the children Peregrine. I’m here for the children. Now that Ma has . . . passed on, we, the Department, want to secure the well-being . . . and the health . . . and the harmony, for the children. Beat. PEREGRINE  Do what you want. ANNA  Sorry? PEREGRINE  What else would you do? ANNA  Okay. Well . . . Are they here? PEREGRINE  No. ANNA  Where are they?

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PEREGRINE  Why would you ask me that? ANNA  They’re your children. PEREGRINE  No. No, they’re not. ANNA  Look . . . Let’s just . . . I’m here to help. That’s all. I’m just here to help. Let’s just . . . Just start again. Can we do that? Peregrine? peregrine holds out anna’s badge. As anna goes to take it, peregrine snatches it back and licks it. She hands it back to anna. peregrine sits on the couch. PEREGRINE  They were all dressed in white. Dresses, pants, white little ribbons in their hair. It was just . . . stupid. anna sits on the couch. ANNA  I’ve read about this. It’s a shift away from a grieving of the death to a celebration of the life. Which is good. Don’t you think that is good? PEREGRINE  I think singing at top pitch in celebration of a life in this place is a thing worse than stupid. ANNA  Not the greatest place on earth is it? So eager to bury everything under fi ne. Everything was fi ne. Everyone was fi ne. Fine, fi ne, fi ne. When it was so clear, so perfectly clear that there was nothing fi ne about any of it. PEREGRINE  . . . That’s close to it. peregrine stands up.

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PEREGRINE  Look, I got to go. I’ve got to get a job. I’ve got to get on the train and get back and get a job. Because I’m not doing the midnight run again. I like the place I’m in and I don’t want to leave. ANNA  Well . . . That’s good. That’s really good Peregrine. The children though. Where are the children? PEREGRINE  They’re with some woman who was just like she should be. ANNA  Some woman? What does that mean? PEREGRINE  They wouldn’t look at me. They think I’m the devil . . . Don’t hurt them. Don’t put them where they’ll be hurt by those fuckers they have on TV all the time. ANNA  Well, see— PEREGRINE  Are you the one that deals with the lawyers and that? ANNA  Sorry? PEREGRINE  For Joe? ANNA  . . . Joe? PEREGRINE  He thinks . . . He needs a lawyer. He thinks he is going to talk and make everything okay. And sure, you can tell them that she was a Mad Old Cunt and she did things that everyone thought was fucking fantastic but she was just a Mad Old Cunt . . . More the cunt than anything else, but I don’t think that’s going to be enough. Because people don’t listen. They never listen. They just believe.

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ANNA  I . . . I can check. It’s a different department but I . . . They’ll make sure that he gets a lawyer. I’m sure . . . I’m sure that it is just . . . Well, it’s Joe isn’t it? And Joe wouldn’t . . . Joe wouldn’t. PEREGRINE  You know Joe? ANNA  Yes . . . Well . . . A long time ago . . . I grew up here Peregrine. I used to come . . . I came to one of your birthday parties once . . . Do you . . . You don’t remember. You don’t . . . Anyway, I’ll check. They have very good lawyers now in Legal Aid. The Department of Justice and . . . Something. Something really good. They’ve really got their act together. PEREGRINE  I think I’ll go to the train now. anna stands up. ANNA  The children. PEREGRINE  Just to be sure. ANNA  It doesn’t work like that. PEREGRINE  No. The last train. The last train is always— ANNA  The children. They’re now a ward of the state. Homeless, in other words. It’s terrible Peregrine. Simply terrible. PEREGRINE  I know. I know that. I told you not to . . . No fuckers. I told you that. ANNA  Unless we can fi nd . . . someone suitable. Someone . . . like their mother.

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PEREGRINE  I have to . . . I’m going to be on the last train. anna goes to the window, shuts it, turns back to peregrine. ANNA  Why don’t you sit down Peregrine? Just . . . I have a lot of things I need to discuss with you . . . Talk. Just talk . . . You’ll make your train. It doesn’t come for hours. Hours and hours. Plenty of time to talk. About everything. The children. About the future. Everything . . . I’m here to help. I just want to help Peregrine so . . . PEREGRINE  So? ANNA  Sit on the couch. Beat. peregrine sits down on the couch.

Scene Six joe stands near the window. peregrine sits in the same position on the couch. She begins to fidget, squirm, and inch toward the window. JOE  Yeah. Yeah, I lied. You saw it, didn’t you? You saw it all, and that was the end of that. Game over. joe walks up to the window. JOE  You’re everywhere. Everywhere I remember and places I don’t, and maybe I’m making them up, but I don’t think I am. You are two steps ahead and casting a blue shadow. Everywhere, all the time, but then you were just here. joe begins to gently scratch at the window. JOE  I was supposed to see you coming. I was ready for that. Had it all sorted Peregrine. But you were just here, like magic you were just here. And you look . . . Took me off guard . . . I thought, just because you are in my head, just because your shadow is everywhere and I don’t see anything else, I thought you might still be that. You might still be twelve with the possibility of everything wrapped up in your blue, blue shadow. And when you weren’t, when you were just here, I couldn’t. I could not. peregrine reaches the window and runs her hand down it. joe turns away from the window.

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JOE  I lied. I did it badly and you saw it all . . . You don’t look good Peregrine. There’s not one bit of good left in you. Your shadow isn’t blue anymore and you’re somewhere way, way behind . . . But you know that, don’t you? You know all that. joe lies on the bed. peregrine opens the window.

ACT 2

Scene One The bedroom. oscar hangs off the bed, and speaks to the cat. OSCAR  Are you dead yet? . . . You know, a part of me wishes you were dead. A little part. Not so little. Which is shit, because I’m supposed to be writing a novel about the manifestations of youth, and I can’t because I’m thinking about you being dead . . . I’m not thinking about the girl that is out there, is she still out there? . . . I wonder what Anna is doing for underwear? You would think at least she would come home for that. I mean, Jesus, what is this all coming to? What have we got ourselves involved in? . . . She has such lovely underwear. Underwear that feels like home. The cat bites oscar’s finger. OSCAR  Fuck. oscar sits up on the bed, sucks his finger. OSCAR  That did not help your case, you fucking little feral. A person can be heard moving around in another part of the apartment. OSCAR  If you close your eyes and shut down most of your brain, it could be her, couldn’t it? With her home wrapped between her legs? Couldn’t it?

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PEREGRINE  (Offstage.) You’ve got a lot of fucking books. OSCAR  (To the cat.) Not so much. PEREGRINE  (Offstage.) You read all these or are they just for show? OSCAR  (To peregrine.) I’m a novelist . . . I used to be an accountant, had a nice little career happening for myself. Had a nice little girlfriend who was completing her Masters and it was all very nice. Until I woke up one morning and realized I hated numbers. I hated all of them. Especially nine. There’s no reason . . . It started out as a small novel, a treatise on the manifestations of youth. But it’s not small anymore. It’s the biggest thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s all in my head, and I think it might explode if something doesn’t move out. peregrine enters, stands at the doorway. She is wearing various pieces of anna’s clothing over her own. PEREGRINE  A novel? OSCAR  About the manifestations of youth . . . There’s a lot of fucking in it. peregrine moves into the room, looks around. PEREGRINE  Where is the cat? OSCAR  Let’s not talk about the cat . . . The cat is too much. It is everywhere and also under the bed. It ensures that there is no peace . . . You hear that? PEREGRINE  No.

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OSCAR  It’s the cat. It’s always the cat. The cat, the cat, the cat. PEREGRINE  You need to relax. OSCAR  I thought we just did that. PEREGRINE  We can do it again. OSCAR  No. It’s alright. I mean, it was good, but the cat just bit my fi nger and I don’t think the pleasure will overcome the pain. PEREGRINE  This is a pretty good place. I’ve got a little place. Needs some work. Not here though. Far, far away from here. OSCAR  She’s the one that wanted this. She made long speeches, which is not something she usually does. Short, sharp statements are more her style. So short and so sharp they throw you off balance and you have a tendency to fall down and hurt yourself. PEREGRINE  We could do it together. That would be fun wouldn’t it? We could put my place together and then we’d have a little home. Yours and mine. Ours. Would you like a little home? OSCAR  She doesn’t like to use all the words. But she did about this. She used them all, and now we’re here. PEREGRINE  We could tell this story to our children. How we met on the street and you were looking for cat treats. OSCAR  Kitty Bits.

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PEREGRINE  Kitty Bits, and I was supposed to be getting on a train and then we just ended up in your bed. And that was that. OSCAR  There are no Kitty Bits. PEREGRINE  No, but— OSCAR  What kind of place doesn’t have Kitty Bits? Tell me that. What kind of place? . . . She said that it had always been the plan. Get her degree, become a social worker, come back home and fi x everything. Fix home. Always going to do this, but I hadn’t heard her say it once. peregrine advances on oscar. PEREGRINE  Don’t think about it. She’s gone now. OSCAR  What? PEREGRINE  Just you and me. OSCAR  No. She’s got no underwear. It’s all here. Look. It’s all here. I didn’t make it up. PEREGRINE  I believe you. OSCAR  Okay. PEREGRINE  I’ll believe everything. OSCAR  Okay then. Okay. peregrine kisses oscar. oscar throws peregrine off, paces around the bedroom.

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OSCAR  Except for the fucking cat. What am I going to do about poor little puss? Because it’s not looking good. It’s really not looking good Anna. PEREGRINE  Peregrine. OSCAR  Okay. Beat. PEREGRINE  You want to see my funny faces? OSCAR  What? PEREGRINE  I do funny faces. They make people happy. OSCAR  . . . If you want. peregrine pulls childish faces. oscar starts to cry. OSCAR  You better stop that now. peregrine continues. Her faces become more grotesque, more ludicrous. OSCAR  Stop that. Stop that now. oscar lunges at peregrine and shakes her. OSCAR  STOP THAT STOP THAT STOP THAT. peregrine stops. PEREGRINE  Tell me about your novel. Tell me all about it. I really want to know . . . Do you like the color blue? I never liked it before. I used to have it in my bedroom. Back, back when I was here. I wanted pink but my

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mother said no. And she didn’t give any reason. Just said no. Like that made any sense. Isn’t that fucked? . . . Oscar? . . . Let’s catch a train. Let’s fuck. Let’s fuck on the train Oscar. And then at my little place. Fuck all night. Fuck all day. Just fuck and fuck. Let’s do that. Let’s do just that. OSCAR  Go. PEREGRINE  What? OSCAR  Go now. Go because I’ve got to do something. I don’t know what it is but if I don’t, my whole brain will explode. Or maybe it is my heart. PEREGRINE  I’ll give you everything. What do you want? You want a little home? I can do that. You want dinner every night? I’ll make it. You want me to bend over? Bend over and scream for more? Or purr? Purr like a little kitten? All soft. All quiet . . . You want it? You want everything Oscar? peregrine rips off anna’s clothes and throws them on oscar. He gathers them all and holds them. PEREGRINE  Here. Tell me what you want? Anything Oscar. Here. Here, take it. You just have to say it. Say it Oscar, and it’s all yours. Take what’s left. If you can fi nd it, it’s yours. Take it.

Scene Two anna stands near the couch. She has the children with her (unseen). joe is at the window, now closed. He scratches at a tiny part of it over and over again. JOE  Do you think I sound crazy Bill? . . . Might sound crazy, but I’m actually looking forward to it. My day in Court. Yeah. Can you imagine it? Chaos as far as you can see. Explosions everywhere. Yeah I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole place, the whole damn thing goes up in flames. Cause I got a story. ANNA  Peregrine? . . . Peregrine, I’ve come back like I said I would. And I’ve brought the children . . . I told you I had a plan . . . Did I tell you that? . . . Might sound . . . At fi rst, it might sound . . . But it’s not. Because this is the way it was supposed to be. I really . . . I’ve had a long time to think about this . . . About how to make it right. JOE  First thing I’m going to do when I’m out? Order a thousand fucking windows and send them all here. Send the bill to the government. What do you think about that? Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do, because the least you should be able to do is look the fuck out . . . Did I tell you? Did I tell you what they used to call us? Irish twins. Did I tell you that Billy? Born eleven months apart. Irish twins. Almost twins. Almost enough . . . If I could show you, if you could look out, I’d show you the field where we spent most of our time . . . Do you remember the field Billy? Not far from here? . . . Doesn’t matter. It was just

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a field. But it’s where our lives were. We had all sorts of games. Like kids do. anna speaks to the children. ANNA  It’s alright kids. Everything is alright. Better than that . . . She’s probably in the bathroom. Or . . . I told her I would be right back but that was a while ago. Time got away from me. More complicated than I thought. I thought once I had the badge, I could flash it and do what I want. But there’s always paperwork . . . But here we are. Here we all are. And isn’t this wonderful? You’re back home . . . Yes. Yes, terrible . . . Oh please, please don’t cry. That’s not what I want . . . Did you know that I knew your grandmother? Yes. And your uncle. Uncle Joe. You want to talk about Joe? Uncle Joe? We can do that. We can talk about Joe if you stop crying. Uncle Joe. Joe. Please stop crying. JOE  There was one, one where we were pirates, or no, no, Peregrine was the pirate and I was her captive. She always liked being in charge. And I didn’t mind. She always had the best games so I didn’t mind. And she would make me eat mud and walk the plank and all sorts of stuff . . . I hated it, hated every belly full of mud but I never wanted it to stop. ANNA  Okay then. Joe. Let’s talk about Joe. Uncle Joe. JOE  Shouldn’t talk about this. Shouldn’t start myself because it was that field . . . And I think, sometimes I think, if we didn’t have that field none of this would have happened . . . Number one, I’ll get the windows and you can all look out, and then you’ll see number two, where I blow that field way, way into nowhere.

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ANNA  Uncle Joe. Not just that though. My Joe too. Shouldn’t say that. Shouldn’t have said My Joe . . . My Joe, My Joe. He’ll like this. When he sees it, and he will, he is going to love that we are all together at last. I told him this. Again and again. peregrine appears at the window. ANNA  In this house. And down, down at the field. It’s all we ever talked about. Just her. Just this. Just . . . PEREGRINE  Anna Brammell? ANNA  Oh there you are. PEREGRINE  I just want . . . I just need some stuff. To sell. Can you just pass me some stuff ? anna opens the window. ANNA  Well don’t just stand there silly. Come in, come in. There’s a lot of little people that are dying to get to know their real mommy. anna grabs hold of peregrine’s arm and pulls her through the window. peregrine tries to break free but anna holds her tight. ANNA  (To the children.) Don’t cry. Don’t do that. Not now. Terrible, and so hard, but now is not really the time. Happy faces. Can we all do a happy face? Can we? So this can be the wondrous moment I know you are going to look back on with joy and warmth in your heart . . . I should have brought a camera . . . Come on now. This is the part we social workers like best. Putting it all back together. That’s our motto. Or it should be. (To the children.) SSHHH! (To peregrine.) Let’s all sit down.

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anna sits peregrine on the couch. anna sits close to her. anna’s phone rings. She is oblivious to it. ANNA  Look. Look at you all here. Together . . . A family. Nice, neat, little family. peregrine tries to stand up. anna grabs her and holds her down. ANNA  I read the fi le Peregrine. All of it. Took a week. I didn’t sleep and I haven’t been home. I read and I walked. Wandered. It was more of a wandering. These old streets. This place. It was . . . Illuminating. I think that is about the best word I can use to describe the ordering of the mess. Because that’s what it all was Peregrine. Mess. anna smiles at the children. peregrine begins to shake being kept in the one spot. ANNA  Look at them. Aren’t they . . . They cry a lot. Apparently that’s all they do which I think just proves that I am on the right track here. This plan I’ve got . . . Which is not exactly mine. I can’t take credit for it, that was . . . But this. This right here, this moment, this can be all mine. anna’s phone starts ringing again. Again, anna ignores it, talking louder to drown it out. ANNA  See, see it’s really not that hard. I mean, it’s hard, but it’s really the easiest thing in the world. anna pulls out the file from her bag. It is neat and ordered. anna dumps the file onto peregrine’s lap.

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As anna speaks, peregrine destroys the file bit by bit. She makes airplanes with it and launches them around the room, out the window, at the children. ANNA  Get rid of the mess. Make it clear and easy to follow. Because that’s what a life should be . . . shouldn’t it? Clear, concise, neat . . . But I’m getting ahead of myself. I have a tendency to do that. I see what needs to be fi xed and I want to get right in there and change the lot of it . . . But today, today we are here to talk about the future. A collective future for you all. anna pulls out a large, thick booklet from her bag. She stands up, moves around talking to both the children and peregrine. ANNA  Does anyone know what this is? . . . It’s a manual. Part of the vast documentation that the Department has engineered in the face of what can only be called a complete screw-up for the last century, or so. And I’m not the only one to call it that. No. We’ve made mistakes. We’re willing to admit that. Thus, we have the manual . . . We call it the Future Manual. It’s a manual. And it’s all about the future. But more than that. Better than that. The future, not as some crazy oh god I don’t know what is going to happen and I better just cruise along and not think about it very much. No. The future as a structure. Something you can build brick by brick. Solid. Which is nice. Comforting. Don’t you think? As you can see it’s an actual manual. Thick, because the future should be detailed. We can’t go messing around with abstracts when it comes to our lives can we? The past is the past. We can’t do anything about that. You made some mistakes Peregrine. But then, didn’t we all? PEREGRINE  What were your mistakes Anna Brammell?

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ANNA  Well . . . Well, we’re not here to talk about me but you can be sure I did. You can be very sure you are not alone in the making mistakes department. PEREGRINE  How many were there? Did you count them? Can you name them? ANNA  But what is absolutely imperative, and the Manual speaks on this subject beautifully, is not to let our mistakes, numerous as they may be, stop us from moving forward. We all want to move forward . . . Don’t we Peregrine? peregrine launches a paper airplane at anna’s heart. ANNA  I always loved your name. Can I say that? I went home to my mother once, god rest her soul, and screamed at her “WHY DID I HAVE TO BE PLAIN OLD ANNA?” I can say that, can’t I? I’m not crossing any boundaries. I used to get into trouble for that. At university, one of my lecturers said, in a good way, I was just like a four year old. PEREGRINE  I can name my mistakes. Name every one of them. Mistake number one. Talking. Saying what I thought. ANNA  Right. So, back to the Manual— PEREGRINE  This place has nightmares stitched into the furniture. Told her that. The Mad Old Cunt. ANNA  Let’s not . . . The children Peregrine. Don’t make them cry again. Don’t ruin this. PEREGRINE  I said, said it again and again, You have nightmares in the furniture. And she started to cry. And I didn’t feel bad. Because it was the truth, and I didn’t

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understand, I don’t understand why the truth is wrong. Why is the truth wrong? anna waves the Future Manual around. ANNA  Let’s begin. PEREGRINE  Irish Twins. That’s what she used to call us, even though none of us have a bone of Irish in our bodies. And that just makes no sense. Because the truth of it, the truth— ANNA  First question. Describe in five words the ideal version of you. PEREGRINE  And this place. This place just let her be crazy. Once the father was gone— ANNA  Ran off with the secretary and broke this family’s collective heart, which goes a long way to explaining why you found sex so alluring at such a young age. Classic Freud behaviors. You’re not the fi rst girl that wanted to fuck her father. I could lend you a book. PEREGRINE  I think he died. ANNA  He didn’t die. God, is that the story you’ve been telling? PEREGRINE  In his sleep. ANNA  Her name was Stephanie. She wasn’t pretty, but she pretended not to be demanding. Turns out she was. Turns out she was a right little bitch, but he didn’t know that. And there is no point getting into all of this because the father isn’t the issue. PEREGRINE  Don’t even remember him.

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ANNA  Exactly. Question Two. Name five people, living or dead, that inspire you to be a better person. PEREGRINE  I’m pretty sure he is dead. ANNA  No. PEREGRINE  And that’s what really killed everything. ANNA  No, no, no. Everything was fi ne after the father ran off with the whore. It was when you became the whore that things got messy. peregrine throws paper airplanes directly at the children. PEREGRINE  Dead. ANNA  But messy wasn’t good enough for you was it Peregrine? Messy was just too simple, so you had to go and fuck it up completely, ruin everything, and now a good man is in jail and looking to spend the rest of his life there. PEREGRINE  . . . A good man? ANNA  Anyway— peregrine leans in toward anna. PEREGRINE  You know a lot of good men Anna Brammell? ANNA  Anyway, that’s not why we are here. We are here for you Peregrine. We are here for the children. You, the children, and your happy, happy future. Together. peregrine strokes anna’s face with a piece of paper from the file.

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PEREGRINE  Anna Brammell. ANNA  . . . Do you remember? PEREGRINE  I remember. ANNA  Do you? PEREGRINE  Anna Brammell. ANNA  I knew you would. I knew that— PEREGRINE  Oh Joe. ANNA  What? PEREGRINE  Did you help him Anna Brammell? anna breaks away from peregrine. peregrine continues to stroke anna’s face. ANNA  Question Three. PEREGRINE  Darling, darling, gorgeous Joe. It’s Anna. Anna Brammell, and she wants you to forget about your stupid Irish twin. It’s Anna you want Joe. Anna, Anna, Anna Brammell. ANNA  Question Four. Name five things you might do tomorrow to change who you are today. PEREGRINE  Did you help him kill that man? Kill the old cunt? Provide him a nice alibi did you? peregrine pulls away. anna grabs at her hand, trying to keep peregrine stroking her.

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peregrine resists. peregrine slowly scrunches up a piece of paper from the file. anna tries to grab it. ANNA  No— peregrine puts the paper into her mouth and eats it. PEREGRINE  Did you? Did you Anna Brammell? ANNA  (To the children.) Children? Children, listen to me. The future is a wonderful thing and nothing to be scared of. PEREGRINE  Did you scrub the blood out of his clothes? Bury the knife? Did you let him fuck you after he sliced that man’s face clean off ? ANNA  Wonderful, simply wonderful, and all of you are entitled to whatever future you decide you want. It doesn’t matter where you came from. It doesn’t matter where you have been. The future is forgiving. I want you to remember that. The future is forgiving. PEREGRINE  I don’t get the man. I mean, the cunt I can understand because if there was ever a human that turned herself into a brick wall, well she was it. ANNA  The future— PEREGRINE  But the man. That man . . . What was his name again? ANNA  . . . Trevor. PEREGRINE  Wasn’t Trevor.

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ANNA  Trevor Davies. PEREGRINE  That wasn’t him. ANNA  He used to be the Mayor of this place. They called him the People’s Mayor. It was the same time as Princess Di was the People’s Princess. Same time as people wanted to own things. Own people. PEREGRINE  Nah. You’re wrong there. Name wasn’t Trevor. ANNA  It was. It really was Trevor. PEREGRINE  You don’t go around killing people called Trevor. Like a pot plant in a jail. It’s not right. peregrine holds up a fistful of the file to anna. PEREGRINE  But then again, what is right? ANNA  Trevor. As anna speaks, peregrine stuffs the rest of the file down into the couch. ANNA  But he liked being Trev. Call me Trev. He said it to me once. I was only little. I remember it because you just didn’t do that. Adults were always Mister, Missus, Miss. Not Trev. Not Call me Trev. PEREGRINE  Call me Peregrine. ANNA  Won by a landslide. We felt, we all felt, that something was happening. Trev told us all the things that he was going to do. How many factories he was going to build, the river that was going to flow again, the houses that were going to become homes for us all. He shouted

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it from podiums, whispered it to us in the streets, sat down on our couches, drank our tea, ate our biscuits, and told us. Told us how we were going to live. And we listened. We listened and we believed . . . Won by a landslide. I don’t think the other guy snatched one vote. Everyone came together, and believed . . . It didn’t last long, but for a moment there, I remember that we had hope. And we were happy . . . Call me Trev. PEREGRINE  Call me Peregrine. Call me that. ANNA  So this is good. All of us together. This is working. It’s good . . . Not great though. It should be great. Why isn’t this great? Why don’t you want this to be great? peregrine looks at the children. PEREGRINE  Take them away. ANNA  What? PEREGRINE  They’re growing chains. I see them. I see their little chains. You did this. All of you. Tried it on me. Call me Peregrine. No. No, you dirty little whore. ANNA  Well . . . PEREGRINE  Wrong and dirty. Dirty little whore. Not Peregrine. Dirty little whore, dirty little whore. Supposed to make me feel bad. Enough to stop, to push it down deep, deep enough for the chains to get hold of it, hold it tight until it was dead . . . Take them away, before their chains become too heavy. Take them away. Let them run. Beat. ANNA  Didn’t last long. Do you remember? You remember. The hope and the happiness ran away when Joe told

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everyone he saw Trev fuck you in the field. Do you remember? . . . The field, where the factories and the houses were supposed to bloom. Twelve years old you were. Twelve years old when Joe saw you fucking Call me Trev and then screamed it to the world. You remember. Screamed it, even when everyone told him to shut up. Screamed it even though it didn’t bring your father back and made your mother bloodless. Screamed it and screamed it even harder when we all woke up one morning and you were just gone. Gone so quietly, so completely, that some wondered if you had ever existed at all. If perhaps you weren’t just an awful, awful dream. The little girl, little and pretty and full of whore, with the name no one could forget . . . Peregrine. PEREGRINE  Peregrine. ANNA  Peregrine . . . I’m going to go now. peregrine stands up. PEREGRINE  What? ANNA  Leave you all with this good, happy moment that I have created for you. anna picks up her tote bag. PEREGRINE  No. No, you can’t— ANNA  Don’t end it. Don’t you dare. I won’t end up like Call me Trev. That’s not how this future goes. PEREGRINE  I’m going. No, I’m going. I’m catching a train. I’m— ANNA  Peregrine. Don’t you see? Don’t you see yourself?

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anna goes to peregrine, begins to straighten her clothes, her hair. peregrine resists at first but quickly gives in, liking the touch, wanting more. ANNA  You’re not anything special. You’re just a girl with a funny name, who knows how to open her legs wider than anyone else. That doesn’t make you special Peregrine. That just makes you like every other whore. anna pulls away, heads for the door. PEREGRINE  No. No, don’t. Don’t go . . . No, it’s inside of me. You want to know. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything. Don’t go. anna stops. PEREGRINE  Need. It’s all just need. ANNA  But we all have that Peregrine. We’d all fuck whatever we could fi nd if we didn’t think about the consequences. peregrine rushes at anna and takes hold of her hands. She tries to get anna to touch her. anna resists and it turns into a struggle between them. PEREGRINE  No. Like a fi re. No. Like completeness. Like being whole for a moment. Being needed, wanted, and just a little bit special. Just a moment but enough, enough to need it, search for it, need it. peregrine tries to get anna’s hand down her pants. anna resists with everything she has. PEREGRINE  You see? You understand? anna strikes peregrine on the head with her bag.

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peregrine falls back onto the couch. anna straightens herself out, smooths her clothes, her hair. anna goes to the window, pulls it down. PEREGRINE  I’ll get out. I always get out. ANNA  He’s going to love this, isn’t he? This is going to cheer him up. Give him hope. PEREGRINE  Joe has got nothing to do with this. Joe is as good as dead. anna lunges at peregrine, hands around her neck. ANNA  Don’t you say that. Don’t say any of that. That’s not the future. In the future, everything will be wonderful. In the future, the sky will be painted another color. In the future, we will smile and smile until our faces break. Do you understand? Do you? peregrine nods. ANNA  Good. Great. anna lets go of peregrine. ANNA  Everything is great. (To the children.) I’m going to get Uncle Joe. That’s next in the plan. Get Uncle Joe and show him that we have all done our bit for the future. anna pulls a padlock from her bag. ANNA  Ha! Knew I had this somewhere. I bought this to keep my past locked up. Away from the now. The now always gets in the way of everything important. You ever noticed that?

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peregrine nods. anna puts the lock on the window. ANNA  Of course you do. I knew that you would see the light. You just needed the right person to show you. I always knew that Peregrine. anna exits. Beat. PEREGRINE  Tell him. Would you tell him? . . . I’m sorry. I’m so sorry but he’s all that. I can’t help it but in my head I remember him as part of all of that. Wrapped in it, all up tight. Mad Old Cunt and him. This place and Mad Old Cunt and him. He’s always there and he’s always screaming. And I can’t, I don’t want to and I can’t . . . Break it apart. It’s just one, and he’s always there . . . Can you tell him? That it’s all one? Can you tell him that?

Scene Three oscar sits up in bed. He holds his phone between his hands and rubs it against the sheets. He rubs it faster and faster. OSCAR  Puss? Here Puss Puss. Puss? He suddenly stops. oscar picks up the phone and quickly dials anna’s number. OSCAR  Don’t pick up. Don’t pick up. Don’t . . . Yes! oscar waits for the message. OSCAR  Update. Okay. Okay. Everything is okay. Not really. No, lying there. Totally lying, and you fell for it. Ha Ha Anna. Ha Ha, got you! Lights up on joe. He stands at the window and scratches at the window. JOE  Would you look at that? Just look at that. It’s just like they say Bill, just like they say. Perseverance. It’s everything. It’s the whole fucking ball game. OSCAR  I got you as you got me and now we can say it’s all even and therefore over. OVER! Are you hearing me Anna? You got me loud and clear? Well, good, ’cause there’s more. Got a lot of questions Anna. Anna Banana. Anna Spanner. Should I have given you a nickname? Would that have made you stay? Was there a point that you thought you might stay? Did I ever compete with

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the murderer? . . . Do you know how much I love saying that word. Murderer. Try it sometime. It’s sexy. Better than that. Dark and sexy. And fuck it, there is nothing better than those two things Not one fucking thing . . . TRUTH! JOE  I think . . . OSCAR  Now we get to speak the truth. JOE  I think I can see her. Come have a look Bill. Come see her. OSCAR  Or is that too boring? I don’t want to be boring Anna. I don’t want the story to go like that. She left him because he turned out to be a boring fuck. No. She left him because she fell in love with a future murderer and then ran to him when he did become a murderer . . . Was it all about him? All of it? oscar hangs up the phone, and rubs it between his hands again. Faster, faster . . . The phone rings. oscar stops. At the last possible moment, he picks it up. Lights up on anna standing in the field. OSCAR  Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Don’t tell me. I couldn’t bear it Anna Manna. All that truth will kill a man. ANNA  There’s no need to be crazy. OSCAR  Crazy? You call this crazy? You’re in love with a murderer. ANNA  Well . . . That’s not only crazy Oscar, it’s just plain ludicrous . . . What are you doing?

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OSCAR  What can I do? ANNA  How’s the novel coming along? OSCAR  Knee-deep Anna. It’s all just knee-deep. ANNA  Well, how’s the cat? OSCAR  Dead. ANNA  What? OSCAR  I couldn’t fi nd any Kitty Bits and I looked but then I stopped looking because I met a woman who I thought just wanted to fuck me and I needed to be fucked. She dressed up in your clothes and it was almost like fucking you except, except she talked dirty and you’ll never do that even though I’ve gone so far as to beg. BEG! But it wasn’t as good as I imagined it. Apparently my psyche refuses to believe that my cock is a throbbing fuck machine. It’s just a cock and maybe, maybe that is the saddest thing I’ve ever realized about myself. ANNA  The cat Oscar. The cat. OSCAR  And the Cat. On top of it all, the cat is under the bed and refusing to come out. And there are no Kitty Bits and there is no novel and you were off with your murderer . . . MURDERER! ANNA  Oscar— OSCAR  And the cat knew it. It just knew things. It knew that things don’t change. You start life in a plastic bag, it’s not going to get much better than that. It’s always going to be variations on the same fucking theme. And so it chewed its own fucking paw off . . . Let’s just take a

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moment to think on that . . . And then I bashed its head in . . . Because what can I do? ANNA  I don’t know Oscar. I really don’t . . . I never thought you would come here with me. I thought I would tell you I was leaving and you would say Have Fun. Bye bye. I thought we were just a moment. Just passing the time until we got our real lives. I thought it was just fucking . . . This is my real life. Which I know sounds crazy but it’s there, it’s always been there. I can’t stop it Oscar. I can’t chew its paw off or bash its head in. I can’t kill my past. So I’ve got to go back to it . . . I don’t know why Oscar. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know. He got to me in a moment and that moment will never let me go. OSCAR  Anna? ANNA  Yes. OSCAR  What do I do with a dead cat? ANNA  You throw it away Oscar. You just throw it away. anna hangs up the phone, walks away with purpose. oscar stays on the phone.

Scene Four The meeting room. joe stands at the window. JOE  Look at that. Look at that now. Look at her . . . I’ll take it slow this time. I’ll do it right. But she’s here. That’s good isn’t it? . . . I’ll tell her a lawyer comes now and he says a lot of things and that has to be good, has to be, because silence is deadly. Silence has always been what is wrong with everything. So I’ll tell her that and I’ll tell her to get ready because as soon as I’m out of here, I mean the moment, the very moment, it will begin. We’ll go someplace big and full of noise and that’s where the future will be. Because it’s places like this, silent places, silent fucking places that live and breathe and eat on fucking silence, places like this— anna enters. ANNA  Hello Joe. joe doesn’t turn around. JOE  Any minute now. Any minute and we’ll start all of this. She’ll be here and then I’ll know that it is time. It is the moment. ANNA  Joe, it’s me. It’s Anna. JOE  Any minute now.

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ANNA  I’ve come back. I’ve been here a while. I’ve been helping. Helping Peregrine . . . I said I’ve been helping Peregrine . . . Peregrine, Joe. I said Peregrine. joe punches the window. JOE  Out now. Out you go with the silence and the . . . Time for the future. Time now for New Light Shine. anna moves closer to joe. ANNA  Remember when we used to sneak in here and smoke cigarettes? When it was just a ruined wreck of something? Remember that Joe? JOE  She’ll be here any minute and then New Light Shine. Say it again. New Light Shine. Say it, say it and believe it. ANNA  She’s at home Joe. She really is. With the children. They’re planning their future. I gave them a manual, called the Future Manual. JOE  No. ANNA  They’re doing it right now. JOE  No. No, I’ve got the future. I’ve got it right here. It’s called New Light Shine. ANNA  New Light Shine. anna leans further over the table, trying to get closer to joe. ANNA  Joe. Joe, I’m right here. Joe? Do you remember? I was the one that believed you Joe. Joe? I believed every word of it. Remember? I helped you scream. I screamed

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right along with you. Scream, scream, SCREAM . . . Remember? JOE  There’s no screaming. Not with this. Not with New Light Shine. It’s all just happiness. Just . . . You believe me don’t you? ANNA  Of course. I didn’t know it had a name but . . . I always believed you Joe. You remember? Don’t you remember how much I believed you? . . . I’m here Joe. I’m right here. JOE  I’ve got so much to tell her. I’ve got to tell her about the happiness and . . . And the happiness. ANNA  You will Joe. Joe? She was about to jump on a train until I made her stay. And now she’s here. Waiting. With the children . . . I did all that Joe. I did it. I told you I would come back. I told you I would go away and do something so that I could come back and fi x it all. And I did. I’m almost there . . . You have to turn around Joe. You have to turn around and sit down. Sit down and look at me. Just . . . Joe? Joe, I’m here. I’ve been doing all of these things. Joe, stop that. Stop . . . She’s not coming. She’s at home. I had to lock her in. She wants to go. Why does she always want to go? Can’t she see that we are helping her? JOE  She used to make me wait for her. She used to say I’m going into the field and I want you to wait for me right here. Don’t come any further Joe. Don’t you dare. ANNA  Yes. Yes, I remember. JOE  But I did. I did go further and then she left. Because I saw what I saw. I stood there and watched him fuck her. Fuck her hard. Stood there while he asked her if she liked that. You like that? You like that Peregrine?

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ANNA  No more Joe. You took care of that. No more. JOE  And she said Yes. Yes, fuck me harder. Fuck me. Why did she say that? Yes. Fuck me harder. And he did. Why did she say that? . . . But I don’t think about that. I don’t want to think about that . . . Why would she do that? She wouldn’t do that. I don’t think about that part. I think about his ass driving his cock further and further into her. That’s what I thought about when I found him and put a knife into his face. ANNA  Yes. Yes, I know all about that. And your mother. JOE  Wanted to call the police. Can you believe that? Ma? Ma, what are you doing? Ma, she’ll come home now. No one to hurt her now Ma. We should have done this years ago. Ma? ANNA  Joe? Joe, I’ve got you a lawyer. I’ve got you a really good one. I rang him and told him who I was. I said I’m a social worker and I need a very good lawyer to say those words that twist the meaning of it all. And then everyone will say HUZZAH! and then it will be over. Peregrine and the children will be together and then you and . . . Because I came back Joe and I said I would help and I don’t know why it has become so important but it is Joe. It is and I did it. I did it all . . . Joe? . . . Joe, why didn’t you wait? I would have come back and fi xed everything. I would have done that for you. I did do it. I worked really hard. All of it so I could come back. Joe? Joe, why didn’t you wait? anna reaches over the table and grabs on to joe’s shirt. ANNA  Joe? Joe, it’s me. Please Joe. Please turn around. Please Joe. Joe? Joe, please. You don’t know what I’ve done. I haven’t explained it right. Let me explain it. Joe? Joe, please. I’ll say it all again. Bit by bit. I’ll make you

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understand. Joe? Joe, please. Please. Please Joe. Please turn around. The window breaks and shatters. joe and anna don’t notice. JOE  Back when we were little, little Irish twins, she used to make all these funny faces when I was sad. I’d be all crying and she would stand in front of me, scrunching up her face, make it all weird looking and she would do it, she would stay and keep on doing it until I was happy. Until I was nothing but happiness . . . And then she went and said Yes. Yes, fuck me harder. Yes.

Scene Five peregrine stands in the field at the edge of town, smoking a cigarette. The children are with her. PEREGRINE  (To the children.) This used to be a good place. Back. When I was little like you, this was good. Untouched. You could come here and be anyone . . . You could scream here. peregrine screams. PEREGRINE  It’s important to have a place like that. A place to be anyone. Or yourself. And it’s important not to let anyone fuck with it. I did that, and all hell broke loose. And there’s no ending that. peregrine puts out her cigarette and walks away. She stops and turns back to the children. PEREGRINE  You have to come. You have to come with me now. peregrine exits with the children. End of play.