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My Sister's Keeper

Page 8

by Ted Allan


  SARAH

  It’s not true! Would I say anything as terrible as that to her? Would I? You seduced me and my father raped me? She has to be pretty sick to make up a story like that! She’s a terrible person. She’s trying to break up our friendship… When you told her you were going to take care of me for a month she got jealous and made up this terrible story.

  ROBERT

  I gave you drugs and we were madly in love with one another!

  SARAH

  She told you that? She said that terrible thing to you?

  ROBERT

  Oh, stop it, you sick fucking maniac!

  SARAH

  I never told her anything like that! She’s lying! How could I tell her anything like that?

  ROBERT

  That’s what I’d like to know! If that’s your fantasy, seduced by brother and raped by father, it’s your fantasy…I’m sorry I got angry. Whew! It was a bit of a shock. She believed you. Believed that’s why I came to London. Christ!

  SARAH

  She made it up. People can be so cruel. People are so envious when they see others happy. She made it up. Don’t you see that?

  ROBERT

  Yeah. Okay.

  SARAH

  I made dinner…what mother used to make…pot roast. You used to love it.

  ROBERT

  Fine…I’m not hungry…I’ll have some though…

  (He lights a cigarette)

  SARAH

  You stopped smoking.

  ROBERT

  I started again. Now.

  SARAH

  It’s not good for you.

  ROBERT

  I’m aware of that.

  SARAH

  It causes cancer.

  ROBERT

  I know. Leave it alone, will you?

  (He takes a deep drag)

  SARAH

  I’m not a maniac.

  ROBERT

  No. I’m a maniac.

  SARAH

  It’s the outside world that keeps interfering. We were so happy. I was cured, wasn’t I?

  ROBERT

  The cure’s over?

  SARAH

  I don’t think so. I was very good today. I dusted. I knitted. I prepared dinner. Oh, shit. I burned it.

  (She runs off. He takes a deep breath and crushes the cigarette.

  She returns)

  I burned it. I can’t do anything right, I guess.

  ROBERT

  It doesn’t matter. Everybody burns a dinner from time to time.

  SARAH

  But I burn dinners most of the time!

  (Tries to laugh, but is crying inside)

  I’m always fucking things up in one way or another.

  ROBERT

  Let’s not go there. It’s just a lousy dinner. I’ll take you out to dinner.

  SARAH

  It will be difficult to be friendly with Susan as she hates me so much.

  ROBERT

  She doesn’t hate you. And she won’t be with us this evening.

  SARAH

  I so wanted to cook a nice dinner for you.

  ROBERT

  Some other time.

  SARAH

  I always spill tea.

  ROBERT

  Here we go.

  SARAH

  And drop things on my clothes. And burn dinners. Or I smoke in bed and drop the cigarette and the blanket goes up in flames.

  ROBERT

  When did that happen?

  SARAH

  Before I went to hospital this last time. I must like to burn things.

  ROBERT

  I’m sorry I blew my top. Forgive me.

  (Sarah has gone to a chair and is sitting looking out at the river)

  SARAH

  I feel that death is preferable to life. I don’t enjoy life. I cover up. I’d like to be with my daughter. But how can I make plans? I never know when I let go. When I said that Susan was a terrible person who hated me it isn’t true. She’s a nice person. I wish I could go to a new kind of place. Workshop Universities where we could get the training and live there when we needed to. I’d like to take care of disturbed children.

  (She approaches one of the vases containing the flowers)

  I have good relationships with flowers. They don’t need much attention. But they always die. Things that don’t need too much attention are either dead or don’t live very long.

  ROBERT

  There must be some way I can help you. There must be some way – without us living together.

  SARAH

  To assuage your guilt, or because you love me? You didn’t even notice them.

  ROBERT

  I did. They’re lovely. Thank you.

  SARAH

  They’re not happy.

  (She touches them as if to soothe them)

  It’s not a happy house. There’s madness here.

  ROBERT

  I’m no longer sure who and what is mad.

  SARAH

  If you speak to flowers you’re mad. Don’t be confused. It’s me who’s mad. Not you.

  ROBERT

  There is madness and madness. Those who want to dominate and destroy everyone should be locked up. The rest of us are the rest of us, some madder, some less.

  SARAH

  And some have to be put away.

  ROBERT

  Some have no one to take care of them, so they have to be sent to places made for that purpose.

  SARAH

  Yes.

  (She goes to her painting, oblivious of him now, and starts to paint. He watches her, sick for her, and leaves the room. He returns. She looks at him)

  SARAH

  I have been hostile to Susan. I admit it.

  ROBERT

  Are you hungry?

  SARAH

  No. I don’t feel like going out. I’d rather stay in. You go out if you want to. I want to go to sleep now. Is it all right?

  ROBERT

  If you’re sleepy.

  SARAH

  I’m very tired. Tell Susan I’m sorry.

  (She starts to move across the room and stops. She touches his head)

  Do you mind if I touch your head?

  ROBERT

  No.

  SARAH

  Mother touched you quite a bit, didn’t she?

  (He waits)

  Didn’t she?

  ROBERT

  No more than any mother touches and caresses her son.

  SARAH

  More. Much more. Particularly when Dad was on one of his trips. Can’t you face that?

  ROBERT

  She liked to hug me, yes.

  SARAH

  She flirted with you all the time.

  ROBERT

  Yes, I suppose so. It was harmless.

  SARAH

  Was it?

  ROBERT

  What harm did it do?

  SARAH

  Well?

  ROBERT

  If you’re trying to say something, say it, damn it!

  SARAH

  Did you ever want to have sex with mother?

  ROBERT

  Oh come on. You’ve been reading too many text books! We all know the myth of every son wanting his mother.

  SARAH

  You. And Mrs Annie Waller. She dug you. You dug her. He made us feel sex was dirty. He made us feel quilty about every nice sexy feeling we had…So you felt guilty about your feelings about her…and then you transferred those feelings to me…that felt safer…You thought. And then that petrified you.

  ROBERT

  When you get well, become a psychiatrist. You’d do good at it.

  SARAH

  How can we help each other? Shall we make love?

  ROBERT

  Do you really want that?

  SARAH

  Yes. Let’s try it. Come…

  (She caresses his face, moves her body seductively before him)

  Let’s just love one another. It won’t hurt anybody.

  ROBERT
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  Please…go away…I feel sick.

  (He is nauseated.

  She is concerned and watches him, looking completely rational now)

  You should examine that fantasy you have – of wanting to sleep with me.

  SARAH

  Don’t tell me about your problems. I’ll work out mine. You work out yours. You’ve got the problems, not me.

  (She starts to undress, slowly)

  I can prove to you that it’s not my problem. I’ll undress until I’m completely nude…which proves I don’t have the problem. I want to be naked before you…and I want you inside me, loving me, being with me, becoming me, and me coming with you…I’m tired of waiting for you…and I want you now and if you faced the truth you’d know you have always wanted me…that every other woman is a substitute for me, as every other man has been a substitute for you…I love you, as no other woman can love you…Let’s love each other purely and truly.

  ROBERT

  Put your clothes on…or get out of here…

  SARAH

  You can’t make it. You’ll never make it, will you?

  ROBERT

  If that’s making it, no.

  SARAH

  (Dresses) I don’t like you in the room when I’m working. Get out.

  (Robert leaves.

  She paints.

  Robert enters)

  ROBERT

  I’m going down for some milk. I’ll be right back…

  SARAH

  Have to keep running, eh?

  ROBERT

  We need some milk.

  SARAH

  Go down once and buy bread. Come back. Go down again and buy milk. Come back. Go down and buy eggs. Come back. Good exercise.

  ROBERT

  Or phone. Everybody. Keep phoning. Suddenly get nervous and phone everybody. Yes! That’s why I keep running out of the house.

  SARAH

  In the mood for some truth?

  (She removes the wig and waits)

  Would you please tell me the truth about something?

  (He waits)

  Did you ever want to make love to me, ever?

  ROBERT

  I suppose I did. Yes.

  SARAH

  When?

  ROBERT

  In our teens. I thought of it, and pushed it from my mind.

  SARAH

  Is it possible your wanting me made me want you?

  ROBERT

  It is possible, I suppose. But I didn’t think I showed it. I was ashamed of it. I hid it.

  SARAH

  You didn’t hide it! I knew it!

  ROBERT

  And that’s why you wanted to make love to me?

  SARAH

  I’m not sure of that. No. I’m not sure of that. I loved you all my life. I grew up loving you – and when I was sixteen I wanted to go to bed with you…and nobody else. And every other man was you from then on.

  ROBERT

  I thought of it. Maybe every brother and sister has that fantasy. It’s one thing to have the fantasy…another to do it.

  SARAH

  We’re telling each other the truth now, right?

  ROBERT

  We’re trying to.

  SARAH

  And since your teens, didn’t you ever want me?

  (There is a long pause)

  ROBERT

  Yes…I suppose I did…But I never did anything about it…I hid it. I kept it from you!

  SARAH

  Never! I knew! I know every time you want me! And you want me now!

  ROBERT

  (Shouting) No! I don’t!

  SARAH

  You do and you’re afraid.

  ROBERT

  It isn’t true!

  SARAH

  Then why are you shouting? Tell me something else.

  (She waits)

  Would you have been happy had I become successful?

  ROBERT

  What’s that supposed to mean?

  SARAH

  Didn’t it always give you a secret pleasure that you were the one who was well and successful and I was the one who was sick and a failure – that it was me, not you? By having a mentally ill sister you could tell yourself you were mentally well.

  ROBERT

  Yes.

  SARAH

  Yes?

  ROBERT

  Yes.

  SARAH

  And haven’t you often put me down, even when I was well? In a crowd, at a party, when you thought I was getting too much attention, that I was being very witty – and taking the limelight away from you?

  ROBERT

  Yes.

  SARAH

  Yes?

  ROBERT

  Yes.

  SARAH

  No. You’re agreeing with me just to humour me. It isn’t true what I’m saying.

  ROBERT

  It is true.

  SARAH

  And whenever I was well – and it looked as if I’d paint well and make a successful career, you always, somehow, someway, said something which destroyed me?

  ROBERT

  Yes. I wasn’t always aware I was doing it. I see it now. Yes. It’s true.

  SARAH

  It’s not true. People tried to destroy you too, but you fought back. You had more courage than I did. That’s what it amounts to.

  ROBERT

  You never tried to destroy me that way!

  SARAH

  Because I didn’t feel I could. If I felt I could I probably would have.

  ROBERT

  No. You’ve been happy I’ve done well.

  SARAH

  It isn’t true. I’ve been happy for you, but eaten with envy – and hating you. My God!

  (She cries)

  Forgive me.

  ROBERT

  For what?

  SARAH

  For everything.

  ROBERT

  Forgive me.

  SARAH

  (Weeping) Forgiven, darling. Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven!

  (She can’t stop crying. He starts to cry and runs out. She sits down, holding her stomach in pain)

  Forgiven. Forgiven. Forgiven.

  (She stops crying. She seems very lucid now. She dries her eyes)

  Oh God, if this is your idea of a joke, call it off.

  (She looks into the mirror)

  Sarah, the Nut. What’s it all about? Somebody must know.

  (Robert returns with the milk. He seems to have come to some decision)

  ROBERT

  I’ve come to a decision. I didn’t give you the month. I’m not rid of my guilt. I’ve got to get rid of my guilt! I can’t live with it any longer. I’ve got to make up somehow for what I did to you…telling you that lie that I was taking you to a party and giving you those goddamned knockout drops and putting you to sleep. That was the worst thing I could have done to you. It would have been better if the police had forced you against your will. You’d at least have known what was going on, instead of being drugged and waking up in that strange horrible place next morning…All the way in the taxi you kep asking me where was the party. You were so sleepy from those knockout pills, but you kept waking up and telling me how good it was to be with me, you felt so safe…It was raining hard to make the scene perfect, I held you in my arms, singing you lullabies…God. And we finally got to the side door of the hospital and you looked out and said, ‘What a funny place to have a party.’ They were expecting us. I’d phoned earlier. The big wooden door opened. A dim light bulb. A doctor and a nurse in white there and you turned, innocent, sleepy and puzzled…’What’s going on?’ you asked, smiling, wondering if it was a masquerade party and I hadn’t told you. I don’t remember if I said anything. I think I said something like, ‘You’ll be all right here,’ or ‘I couldn’t help it, Sarah.’ You stared at me, beginning to realize the horror you still couldn’t believe…They closed the door and I heard you screaming…Screaming…I left for England a few weeks after that.

 

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