Red
Page 4
Like how can your brain even see that?
Like how can your brain even comprehend that?
Or even, hold that information…
What would we even do with that information?
If we could really understand it?
Contain it… hold it or… comprehend it…
Would we… try to connect more?
Become realigned…
Because, it’s huge.
The idea that there are seven-point-five, or there are seven billion four hundred ninety-nine million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine others… walking around, holding what I’m holding, trying not to fall down…
It’s like…
You wanna say all these things like…
You plan to say all these things…
But your tongue gets caught on a…
What exactly?
Something… sharp!
Something like…
I guess…
What’s the best way to say…
A hook!!
Yeah! It’s like…
Suspended from the roof of ya mouth…
I’d imagine that would be uncomfortable…
And that’s what I mean… I think.
No one wants a hook in their mouth…
Blocking their need to speak…
And then imagine if your fingers didn’t work and you couldn’t remove it.
And the muscles in your mouth had gone all floppy so you had to make sounds…
In an attempt to communicate…
To convey all of this [‘everything-ness’]…
Move your eyes up and down to convey all of this…
You’d do anything…
To be able to say…
To communicate…
To share… Or at least try to share the message…
…your message.
Sent from your brain to your mouth…
And if you couldn’t communicate –
Or share the things that keep you awake at night.
The weight of your thoughts, your longing for elsewhere, what then?
JAY. You can’t fix everything.
DEE. I can.
JAY. You can’t and that’s okay.
DEE. I can, though. If you had let me, if you would have allowed me to.
JAY. Let go, babe, go on.
DEE. No.
JAY. Yes.
DEE. No.
JAY. Yes!
DEE. Make me.
JAY. You sure?
DEE. Yeah, go on then!
DEE pushes JAY.
JAY pushes her back.
JAY. Don’t make me take off my earrings and beat you up!
DEE. I’d like to see you try!
JAY. Let go, and stop being such a prat to the others, they love you.
DEE. Don’t tell me what to do.
JAY. Stop acting like a spoilt brat then.
DEE. I’m not!
JAY. You are, babe.
DEE. I need you.
JAY. Let me go, Dee, let me go and remember how to play once again. Okay?
Beat.
Okay?
DEE. All that crap about sticking together.
JAY. It wasn’t…
DEE. All that crap about looking up at the world together.
JAY. It wasn’t crap.
DEE. You left me because you didn’t believe in me.
JAY. That’s not true.
DEE. You didn’t give me a chance to help you. You didn’t give me a chance to help you because you didn’t believe in me.
JAY. You look proper strange when you cry.
DEE. WHAT?!
JAY. You can’t fix everything, all of the time.
DEE. Stop talking in riddles, stop acting like I’m not supposed to miss you, stop acting like you haven’t left me alone in this world, stop acting like we didn’t fail you.
JAY. Lay with me.
DEE. No.
JAY. Just lean back, look up, watch how the clouds dance around the moon, how the heat from the day cools to make room for the night. Lay with me.
They fall back onto the grass.
DEE. Your breath smells like garlic.
JAY. Your breath smells like constipation.
They laugh.
At some point DEE curls into JAY and lays on her chest.
Slowly JAY gets up. She walks away.
The red from the sky lights us all.
Lights fade.
The End.
SOMALIA SEATON
Somalia Seaton is a British-Jamaican and Nigerian playwright and screenwriter, born and raised in South-East London.
She is a 2017 Susan Smith Blackburn Prize finalist, with her play Fall of the Kingdom, Rise of the Footsoldier. Her debut play Crowning Glory was shortlisted for the 2014 Alfred Fagon Award.
Writing credits include Fall of the Kingdom, Rise of the Footsoldier (RSC); House (Clean Break; Assembly Rooms, Edinburgh/The Yard, London); Crowning Glory (Stratford East); Curly Fries and Bass (Lyric, Hammersmith); Mama’s Little Angel (The Yard, London); Hush Little Baby (Open Works Theatre Co./Soho Theatre).
A Nick Hern Book
Red first published as a paperback original in Great Britain in 2017 by Nick Hern Books Limited, The Glasshouse, 49a Goldhawk Road, London W12 8QP, in association with Tonic
This ebook first published in 2017
Red copyright © 2017 Somalia Seaton
Somalia Seaton has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work
Cover image by Kathy Barber, Bullet Creative, www.bulletcreative.com
Designed and typeset by Nick Hern Books, London
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 84842 652 8 (print edition)
ISBN 978 1 78001 994 9 (ebook edition)
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