NAN is put out. GLADYS now focuses on the encyclopedias.
NAN DEAR: I’m worried, that’s all.
GLADYS: Then just say you’re worried, rather than… all that other nonsense.
NAN DEAR: I’m worried.
GLADYS: [softer] Mum… don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll be… as right as rain.
NAN tries to convince herself that she’s being a worry-wart.
NAN DEAR: Yes. Right as rain.
But when there’s a heavy knock at the door NAN reacts. A JUNGI (policeman) enters.
Is it my granddaughter? Is she okay?
JUNGI: Granddaughter? No, ma’am. I’m here to help you up to the tip site.
GLADYS: She was in Shepp—
JUNGI: There’s no getting through tonight. They’ll evacuate her to the church. If you could grab just the essentials…
NAN struggles to lift her Singer sewing machine.
Ma’am? Is this essential?
NAN DEAR: It’s a Singer!
She plonks it in the pram.
GLADYS: Could you give us a hand with the encyclopedia set, lad?
JUNGI: My orders are to move all people first, before we move property. Property can be replaced, after all.
GLADYS: Not this, it can’t. [To herself] Not on a picker’s wage. Gawd, we’d be living on Johnny cakes. [Pleading] Look, it’s real important. For my daughter, see. Not for me, but for my daughter. Please.
JUNGI: Rightio… Now if you would just—
GLADYS: You’ll make sure they’re high and dry?
JUNGI: Yes. Let’s get on with it.
GLADYS hoists the bag of food over her shoulder and rushes up to help NAN with the pram. The JUNGI shepherds them out of the humpy. A noise outside makes GLADYS alert.
GLADYS: It’s a banshee wailing.
Suddenly, a flash of lightning illuminates the statue-like figure of DOLLY. The sight of her makes GLADYS freeze, as if she’s seen a ghost. But NAN runs towards her.
The second verse of ‘Que Sera, Sera’ can be heard: ‘Then I grew up and fell in love…’
DOLLY pushes NAN aside and resolutely steps towards the humpy.
But when she reaches the door the JUNGI puts his hand up.
JUNGI: You can’t go in there. We’re evacuating.
DOLLY is looking down, shamefully, but still she defies him and goes to push past. He is astounded that someone would defy him and reaches to grab her arm. She half screams.
DOLLY: [low] Don’t touch me.
She steps inside the humpy.
GLADYS: [panicking] There’s another family. Down here. With six children. [She points.] Help them.
The JUNGI shrugs and starts to move off. NAN follows GLADYS back into the humpy. The JUNGI, looking around for somewhere to put the crate containing the encyclopedias, places them on the ground. He vanishes into the dark.
The song continues: ‘I asked my sweetheart, what lies ahead…’ Inside the humpy GLADYS and NAN whisper in private. GLADYS then approaches DOLLY.
Dolly, what is it? Dolly, please?
DOLLY ignores them. GLADYS stands there helpless.
Oh, my God. What has happened to you?
She wails like a banshee.
Rain, thunder, darkness.
Time passes.
The waters rise.
END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO
SCENE ONE: AFTER THE FLOOD
Dawn finds GLADYS outside the humpy. The water has drained away, but the devastation has been wrought. Everything is saturated and muddy. GLADYS is agitated. NAN leads DOLLY out onto a kero-tin seat that catches a ray of sunshine. She’s still in the same dress, badly ripped and muddied. She’s shell-shocked. NAN hands her a cup of billy tea.
NAN DEAR: That was a bit of a struggle.
GLADYS looks anxious.
To find dry wood.
GLADYS: And clean water.
They are trying to be light, but their hearts are heavy.
NAN DEAR: At least the tea was dry, eh, Dolly?
But she doesn’t answer. GLADYS has discovered the box of encyclopedias and she’s distracted, so she hasn’t listened to the others. NAN hands GLADYS a cup of tea.
GLADYS: Least the tea was dry, eh?
NAN notices the encyclopedias.
NAN DEAR: Oh, my… oh, Gladys…
DOLLY doesn’t even register.
Every one, Gladys? Every single one, ruined?
GLADYS: Never mind.
NAN DEAR: Never mind! They were your dream—
GLADYS: [fiercely] No! No! They’re only possessions. And what do they matter? People is what matters.
They both look at DOLLY. Beat.
NAN DEAR: I’ve been thinking… Gladys… If you still want to move to Rumbalara… It’d be better for the girl…
GLADYS: [by rote] She’s not a girl.
They both know it.
[Whispering to NAN] Should we send word to Papa Dear?
NAN DEAR: [whispering back] I think… best not. It’s women’s business.
They look at each other in despair, barely able to hold it together. Just then ERROL appears with a determined look on his face.
ERROL: Dolly, I’m sorry. I’ve come to beg your [forgiveness]—
NAN DEAR: You’ve got a cheek. Showing your face—
GLADYS: You’re responsible? You did this?
ERROL: What? [He looks at her dishevelled state.] Oh, my—Dolly, what happened—?
NAN DEAR: You get the hell—!
GLADYS: [angrily] Please leave. Now!
ERROL: But, Nan Dear, Gladys—
NAN DEAR: Don’t you ever dare call me that—
ERROL: I would never—
GLADYS: Are you leaving? Or do I have to—?
GLADYS reaches for the axe. ERROL stops and backs off.
ERROL: [devastated] I thought you knew me.
GLADYS: I thought I did too.
The two women move to stand by DOLLY’s side, in unity. Devastated, ERROL turns and leaves. They watch him depart, still angry.
NAN DEAR: If he ever shows his face—
DOLLY: It wasn’t him.
DOLLY goes inside the humpy. The two women look at each other in shock.
The lights down, then up to the sound of bulldozers.
SCENE TWO: THE MOVE TO RUMBALARA
RADIO: [voice-over] From riverbank humpy to white house is quite a step. It will shortly become reality for the Aboriginal residents of the tin and canvas shanties. The ready-made concrete sections are rapidly being fitted into place. The neat, new, prefabricated house is the first nearly completed unit in a new group of ten. This is the most vigorous attempt yet to solve Aboriginal housing…
NAN and GLADYS hold their humble possessions as the sound of the bulldozers is heard. Their humpy disappears.
GLADYS: It’ll be wonderful, you’ll see. Dolly’ll love it. Just love it.
The sound of construction.
NAN starts to cough (and coughs whenever she is in the house from now on).
The lights go down, then come up on the new housing. It’s concrete, small, white and featureless. It’s anything but lovable.
NAN DEAR: Not quite the ‘new deal’.
GLADYS: No.
NAN DEAR: [grimly] I’ll make curtains.
GLADYS: Yes, Mum. Thank you.
The lights go down.
SCENE THREE: THE BROADCAST
The lights come up on DOLLY who is peeling big dirty potatoes.
RADIO: [voice-over] It’s Australia’s Amateur Hour… where we showcase Australia’s most talented performers. Here’s one of them now…
We hear a man playing a gumleaf.
GLADYS enters and looks around conspiratorially.
GLADYS: Nan’s out? This came for you.
She holds a letter. No response from DOLLY.
Aren’t you going to read it? It’s from the bank.
DOLLY: If you know so much, you read it.
GLADYS: It’s an opportunity.
DOLLY: It’s an interview for a job I’m not going to get. And that you want, not me. [To herself] Why doesn’t anyone ask what I want?
She flicks the station in frustration.
RADIO: [voice-over] …the historic broadcast of the Rodney Shire Council meeting. On the agenda is Aboriginal housing…
GLADYS is momentarily distracted by the radio.
GLADYS: Housing? [To DOLLY, frustrated] So you’re just going to give up?
DOLLY: Yes.
GLADYS: Dolly, please—
DOLLY: [bitter] Look at you, Mum. You go on about the things I should be doing. Why don’t you fix your own house? If you know what I mean…
GLADYS looks at her, and something snaps.
GLADYS: Well! I’ll show you!
NAN enters, drawn by the raised voices.
NAN DEAR: What’s going on?
GLADYS picks up her hat and handbag.
Where you going now?
GLADYS: To fix my own house.
GLADYS exits in a determined fashion.
NAN DEAR: What?
A bicycle bell rings violently. NAN looks out the window.
She’s got a bee in her bonnet about something. [She turns to DOLLY suspiciously.] What were you arguing about?
DOLLY: She wants me to go for that bank job.
NAN DEAR: You told her that’s silly?
DOLLY: Of course. How will I ever get a job now?
NAN just looks at her thoughtfully. There’s a knock on the door. NAN marches up to the door, grabbing a jam tin on the way. She opens the door and the RENT COLLECTOR is standing there.
NAN DEAR: Mr Coody.
RENT COLLECTOR: Mrs Dear.
Silently she hands him the money. He slowly and deliberately counts each coin, writes out a receipt and hands it to her. She takes the receipt and moves back inside. She joins DOLLY and begins shelling peas into some newspaper as if nothing has happened. They work in companionable silence, NAN occasionally stopping to read the paper.
NAN DEAR: Do you read this here page for children? It’s called the Piccaninny’s Page… Fancy calling it that?
DOLLY shakes her head. NAN continues to read the paper.
Says they’ve got this new powder that’s ‘guaranteed to turn your skin white’. Know a few folk who’d like to get their hands on that!
DOLLY: Nan, you never sit down and read.
NAN DEAR: [whispering] I can’t in front of her.
DOLLY: [whispering back] She’s not here [loudly] so just go and read it. For once. Gosh, Nan.
DOLLY shoos her to the seat with the paper. DOLLY takes over shelling the peas. The music ends on the radio.
RADIO ANNOUNCER: [voice-over] We resume our live broadcast of the Rodney Shire Council meeting…
COUNCILLOR 1: [voice-over] …on Crown Land. We bulldozed the shanties but they’re creeping back. This housing problem is not going away. The lack of sanitation poses a serious risk to the good people of our town—
NAN DEAR: This rubbish!
NAN walks over to the radio…
COUNCILLOR 2: [voice-over] Why can’t an ablutions block be built out there?
… to turn it off, but just before she does she hears:
GLADYS: [voice-over] Excuse me…
NAN stares at the radio.
NAN DEAR: That’s her.
DOLLY: What?
NAN DEAR: Shh!
COUNCILLOR 1: [voice-over] The night cart, for one, can’t get access for part of the year due to the flooding—
GLADYS: [voice-over] If I could say something…
NAN DEAR: See!
She points to the radio.
COUNCILLOR 2: [voice-over] Then build it at Daish’s Paddock.
COUNCILLOR 1: [voice-over] That’s out of the question.
GLADYS: [voice-over] Why so?
COUNCILLOR 1: [voice-over] Daish’s is our town tip site, that serves the whole of our community, not just an itinerant minority, as the councillor for the West Ward well knows…
There’s a roar from outraged councillors.
GLADYS: [voice-over] Oi! Re the so-called ‘housing problem’, it is a housing problem because us Aboriginals—
NAN and DOLLY are getting very excited.
CHAIRMAN: [voice-over] Madam…
DOLLY: They’re calling her madam!
NAN DEAR: Shh!
GLADYS: [voice-over] —us Aboriginals are not welcome in the townships—
CHAIRMAN: [voice-over] Madam!
GLADYS needs to fight to be heard over the roars of the councillors.
GLADYS: [voice-over] And apart from those concrete humpies that you built—call them houses?
CHAIRMAN: [voice-over] Order! I must insist—
GLADYS: [voice-over] And what about the other families? If you won’t let us build our own houses on higher ground—
CHAIRMAN: [voice-over] The Chair does not recognise this—
GLADYS: [voice-over] —as if we choose to live on a floodplain—not realising that we need water too—to cook and to clean—
DOLLY: Go, Mum!
CHAIRMAN: [voice-over] There are protocols! If you read the rules—
GLADYS: [voice-over] Maybe you don’t think we do wash—
CHAIRMAN: [voice-over] Eject this interloper—
GLADYS: [voice-over] I’m not an interloper—I belong here—this is my land!
CHAIRMAN: [voice-over] Madam, read the rules! Eject her!
CROWD: [voice-over] Hear! Hear!
GLADYS: [voice-over] I haven’t finished. In fact I’m just starting re ‘the housing problem’…
Her voice fades out as she is being led away.
NAN picks up the radio and shakes it.
NAN DEAR: Oh… schizenhausen!
DOLLY: What?
NAN DEAR: The bloody valve!
DOLLY is flabbergasted.
Oh, don’t look at me like that! As if you’ve never heard someone swear.
DOLLY: In German?
NAN shakes it off.
NAN DEAR: But my daughter. My Gladys! Did you hear her?
She’s practically hugging the radio, as if it were GLADYS.
I didn’t think you had it in you, daught. [To DOLLY] Did you?
DOLLY: Not really.
They dance a little jig around the radio as the lights fade.
SCENE FOUR: THE CONTRACT
ERROL hurries up the track and is relieved to see GLADYS—in a similar scene to the first time he saw her, chopping wood—but this time outside the new Rumbalara housing. ERROL approaches her very tentatively.
ERROL: Mrs Banks?
GLADYS turns around.
GLADYS: Errol?
ERROL: Can I…?
He means ‘approach’. She nods and when she puts down the axe he feels able to step forward.
You’re here now?
GLADYS: Yes.
ERROL: Took a bit to find you—
GLADYS: Why are you here, Errol?
ERROL: I’m sorry to bother you. It’s about the—
GLADYS & ERROL: [simultaneously] Encyclopedias.
GLADYS: We… I… won’t be needing them any more. All the shillings go into the meter box now.
ERROL: Isn’t there any way…?
GLADYS: No.
ERROL: Oh… Thing is, the contract. You signed it.
GLADYS: Yes.
ERROL: So you need to cancel it. You’re not meant to be able to. But there are circumstances…
GLADYS: I have ‘circumstances’ all right.
ERROL: But it has to be done in writing.
GLADYS: Well, I can’t, can I? [Beat.] I can’t.
ERROL: You mean, you can’t write?
GLADYS: You’re slow on the uptake, lad.
ERROL: I’ve never met anyone—
GLADYS: —that can’t read and write?
ERROL: Yes.
GLADYS: Now you have.
ERROL: It’s none of my business, Mrs Banks, but you’re a smart lady.
Beat.
&nbs
p; GLADYS: I’m sorry about last time, Errol. I wasn’t so smart then. I treated you unfairly…
ERROL: I still don’t understand… Dolly was so upset… I wished she could have heard me out…
Beat.
GLADYS: Thing is, I’m sorry.
ERROL: Thank you, Mrs Banks.
They’re both awkward. He holds out his hand to shake on it.
Thing is, ma’am, the letter…
GLADYS: The letter.
ERROL: We still need to write this letter.
GLADYS: We?
ERROL: We.
So she nods and they both sit down on the kero tins. Resting a piece of paper on ERROL’s book, they start to compose a letter together, ERROL writing it down.
The song ‘Catch a Falling Star’ plays in the background.
GLADYS: Are you still up this way frequent, like?
ERROL: Still got half the alphabet to deliver.
GLADYS: Could I ask you a favour, Errol? I can’t ask my mother—she works day and night. And Dolly’s offered, but—
ERROL: How is Dolly?
GLADYS: She’s… she’s okay.
ERROL: Do you think she’d—?
GLADYS: No, Errol, she won’t see you. I’m sure of that.
A beat while they think about DOLLY, each with their own sorrows and regrets.
ERROL: The favour?
GLADYS: Could you teach me, Errol? See, we had a school and good teachers at Cummeragunja at one time, that’s why Mum has such beautiful handwriting, but then the mission managers were terrible and it was all downhill, and I got sent off to work for a family. A family of six and a big house to look after—who had time for learning? Then I married Len and we were picking and along came the children, and then the war, and we were all so busy knitting for the war effort and I thought I’d get around to learning from someone but they were all… so busy.
ERROL: I had no idea… that any of that went on…
GLADYS: Then my darn pride got in the way—
ERROL: It’d be an honour, Mrs Banks.
GLADYS: It would…? Thank you.
ERROL: Pleasure. [Beat.] So she’s—
GLADYS: She’s changed. I am sorry, Errol.
ERROL: Then I’ll have to change too. I’ll prove to her I can. That I’m worthy of her.
He gets up, folds the letter into the envelope and licks it.
GLADYS: You do that, Errol. You just do that.
Rainbow's End Page 6
