by Tommy Murphy
Silence. They eat.
TIM. John, there’s something I want to tell you. I played around a bit when you were away last year. I’m sorry.
JOHN. I thought with this AIDS stuff that would have stopped.
TIM. I’m sorry.
JOHN. Why do you do this to me? Was it anyone I know?
TIM. Well, no. No.
JOHN. Who?
TIM. Couple of guys in the sauna.
JOHN. I feel like that’s not the truth.
TIM. No.
JOHN. It hurts.
Silence. They eat.
TIM. That’s my biggest regret. All the times I hurt you.
JOHN. Mmmh. Don’t want to talk about that.
TIM. No.
They eat. JOHN can’t look at TIM so he looks away. He notices something on the bags and investigates.
JOHN. They’ve labelled our luggage ‘Mr and Mrs Conigrave’.
TIM. No? Show me.
JOHN. I’m keeping this label.
TIM (aside). He was himself again in an instant. He was himself again as he had been after every other time I’d hurt him.
(To JOHN, a toast.) To my darling John, for the years of love, comfort and support.
JOHN raises his glass.
JOHN. Thanks for being my boyfriend.
TIM. Cheers, mate. To all the times you let me fall asleep in front of the TV with my head in your lap. All the times we laughed.
JOHN. No wuckers. Thanks for the holidays. Europe and everything. And thank you for being here now.
TIM. It’s been fun.
TIM leans across to kiss JOHN but spills his champagne.
Shit.
JOHN. Such a dag.
They kiss.
Six
St Vincent’s Hospital, Sydney. JOHN sleeps. TIM, also in patient clothes, is by his side. A psychiatrist called DR SHEPHERD enters.
DR SHEPHERD (to TIM). Hello Tim. I just want to ask you some questions.
TIM. What are those tablets?
DR SHEPHERD. How is being in here for you?
TIM. Content. I’m enjoying myself. Except for the hospital smells.
DR SHEPHERD. What sort of things have you been doing to occupy your time?
TIM. I’m writing a play.
DR SHEPHERD. A play? You feel creative?
TIM. Yes. It’s called Jimmy, an Angel, Stars and That about a gay relationship where one partner is dying. I’m thinking of having a reading with some actor friends one day in the waiting room. You’re welcome to come.
DR SHEPHERD. You seem very up, very chatty –
TIM. I just feel good because John won; we’ve just got good news about John.
DR SHEPHERD. Okay. I’m going to put you on Haloperidol. You’re manic because the cells in your brain have become hypersensitive to certain neurotransmitters. Haloperidol reduces the sensitivity. You can take this one now. You’ve had your breakfast?
TIM. Yes. Do you think I am losing my mind?
DR SHEPHERD. I can’t say dementia and memory loss won’t happen.
TIM. Will I still be able to write?
DR SHEPHERD. We’ll know as your toxo improves.
TIM. Who would have thought: they have unhappy pills too.
DR SHEPHERD. They’ll bring them with meals.
TIM. You’re going to watch me take it.
DR SHEPHERD. Yes.
TIM takes the tablet. Enter BOB CALEO.
TIM. And here’s Bob. Well, works quick.
BOB. Hello Doctor, I’m Robert Caleo, John’s father. Anything new?
TIM. No. Bob, she’s my shrink. We got great news. Yuck. (The pill.) Tastes gross.
DR SHEPHERD. I’ll call on you in a week, Tim.
TIM. Bye.
DR SHEPHERD exits.
Bob, good news.
BOB. Brought you this from the flat.
BOB hands over some envelopes.
TIM. Oh, thanks. Bills and stuff, hey?
BOB (leaning over JOHN). Hello John, it’s Dad.
TIM. Bob, he’s asleep.
BOB. Pardon?
TIM. We got good news. About John.
BOB. Well, I’m all ears.
JOHN. Dad?
BOB. Hello son. What have the doctors been saying?
JOHN. Cancer’s gone. They just want (Coughs.) keep trying to fix my lungs by (Coughs.) antibiotics in them.
BOB. What…?
JOHN. Cancer’s gone.
BOB.…I’m sorry, I can’t hear him.
TIM (to BOB). He can’t speak loudly; it makes him cough. John’s doctor was here. The scope showed that the ulcer’s gone. He’s pretty sure. John beat it.
BOB. Ulcer? The cancer?
TIM. John’s cancer is in remission.
JOHN. Haven’t you got (Coughs.) hearing aid?
BOB. What did he…?
TIM. Asked if you’ve got your hearing aid.
BOB (to TIM). I don’t like wearing it. (To JOHN.) The cancer, you’ve worked hard for it, son.
TIM. Here, Bob, have the seat. I’ll sit on the bed.
JOHN (coughs). All the cards will stop.
TIM (to JOHN). Don’t strain yourself, John.
(To BOB.) He said the cards will stop.
BOB. He’s hardly one hundred per cent.
JOHN. I only (Coughs.) cards for cancer.
TIM. Says he only gets cards for cancer.
BOB. Well, John, your mother prefers that, telling people that you have cancer.
JOHN. But it was AIDS-related cancer.
TIM. Don’t strain. I can do it.
BOB. It’s something for you to take up with her.
BOB pulls out another envelope with notes scrawled across it.
Now, listen, mate, I was reading your will this morning.
JOHN. Where (Coughs.) you get that from?
BOB. Pardon?
TIM. John wants to know where you got his will from?
BOB (to JOHN). It was in the drawer of your desk. I have some concerns. Why is everything going to Tim?
JOHN. Shit. (Coughs.) Want to make sure he’s all right if I die.
BOB. I didn’t get any of that.
TIM. He said he wants to make sure I’m all right if he dies.
BOB. And Tim, is your will set out similarly?
TIM. It is.
BOB. And if John doesn’t survive you?
TIM. It goes to my family.
BOB. So if John dies, you inherit his belongings. And then say a month later you die? Everything goes to your family? I don’t think that’s fair. I would like half. I put John through school and college and I think I deserve it. I made a list this morning. Now, who owns the television and video?
TIM. They’re John’s.
BOB. What about the car? You don’t want it, Tim, do you? With all the stuff going on in your brain?
TIM. They’re resolving, Bob. But I’m not going to fight you for it. You can have it.
BOB. And the bed?
TIM. Well, there are things we bought together. Can I have a look?
BOB hands TIM the list.
BOB. All right.
TIM. Yeah, it might be better for John and me to go through the list for you, Bob.
BOB. All right.
TIM (reading the list). Because it looks pretty thorough. CDs and videos. Just trying to think who bought the Vegemite last. Probably you, John.
JOHN (to TIM). It hurts my lungs to laugh.
TIM (to JOHN). Sorry.
BOB. Well, you go through it then.
TIM (quietly to JOHN). And the boy videos; your family would enjoy Frisky Pool Party 7.
BOB (mishearing). That’s right.
JOHN (to TIM). Stop it.
BOB. Might grab some breakfast then.
TIM. And some little red dots to mark up the apartment.
JOHN sniggers.
BOB. Goodo.
JOHN coughs.
TIM (to JOHN). Sorry.
BOB. Some things are only fair.
BOB exits.
TIM. There�
�s still hair from arsehole to breakfast.
JOHN. The chemo’s stopping. I don’t have cancer.
TIM. It’s ratty. Will you let me clipper it?
TIM lifts off JOHN’s wig to reveal a shaved head.
Seven
TIM and JOHN’s house. Enter PETER. He is dressed for tennis and finds his racket.
PETER. Good to be home?
TIM. Where’d you come from?
PETER. You look tired.
TIM. Peter?
PETER. Yes.
TIM. You’re in my house. I can manage.
PETER. You’re tired.
TIM. And don’t tell me I’m tired, Peter.
PETER. Okay. You’re snapping and acting irrationally because of the toxo and –
TIM. Get real.
PETER. Well, you may not want my help –
TIM. Fuck off.
PETER. But I know John does. And I’d do anything he asked.
TIM. It’s not a three-way relationship, Peter.
PETER. Just here to help, Tim.
TIM. Peter, he’s been sleeping with his eyes half open.
PETER. That’s okay. It’s normal.
TIM. His cough keeps me up and last night I dreamt he got bitten in the stomach by the devil. I don’t want us to go mad, Peter. I don’t want you to say that about us. It’s not true.
PETER. I know.
TIM. Where would his soul go – trapped inside his madness or floating free?
PETER. Ask a priest. I’m a nurse. Try to get some sleep, Tim.
TIM. Did he vomit again?
PETER. I had to reinsert his tube. Tim, work is prepared to give me leave so I can be John’s carer.
TIM. I’m his carer.
PETER. A professional carer. It’s what I do.
TIM. If I get like John, if I get like John without John, will you do this for me?
PETER. I don’t know if I could do that, Tim. John and I, we never really fit in with all the theatre people and the uni crowd. We were on the sideline and that was good.
TIM. I never slept with Woody.
PETER. Woody? I know.
TIM. You slept with John a few times.
PETER. 1980 was a long time ago.
TIM. You were holding the other end of Woody’s Uranium banner when I first saw you.
PETER. I nursed Lee.
TIM. Lee?
PETER. Lee from university. He was mates with Woody.
TIM. Lee? Lee gave me a swamp-water milkshake at my first Gaysoc meeting.
PETER. I barely recognised him – only when I looked at the name on his file. I went to his funeral. He didn’t last long. I can’t escape it. Every patient’s a friend or a lover of a friend or… John’s talking about going up north. If you need me to stay and to travel, call me.
TIM. Thank you for doing the laundry and stocking the fridge and everything. We laughed because – did you even buy condoms?
PETER. Can’t remember them on the list.
TIM. We made love last night. Maybe for the last time.
PETER. It’s going to happen, Tim.
TIM. He wanted to be fucked, for me to fuck him.
PETER. You don’t have to tell me everything, Tim.
TIM. When he came there wasn’t much fluid and that’s probably a sign of how sick he is. We hadn’t had anal sex since… Way back, John said, ‘That’s how we got into this mess in the first place.’ Last night, he seduced me and undressed me and I felt just how skinny he’s got; rolling around caught up in his tubes. It almost didn’t work and I said we didn’t have to but he wanted me to fuck him and we persisted and he took me inside him. Then we lay there and then he slept and slept. That was such a gift, giving of himself. If John wants to go on a trip to somewhere warm, we should let him.
PETER. We’ll organise it. Byron maybe. I’ll sell my Sleaze Ball tickets and come with you.
TIM. He fights too hard.
PETER. He cries for you daily, Tim. He’s afraid you’ll face death alone. I’m going to be late. Dinner’s in the fridge.
PETER exits.
Eight
TIM and JOHN’s living room. Enter JOHN, struggling to walk. He has tubes twisted and trailing from his limbs. TIM assists JOHN and during the scene finds himself operating his lover like a marionette.
TIM. John? Did you wake up?
JOHN. We have to get the cricket whites! The other team will be here in a minute.
TIM. John, what are you talking about?
JOHN. The Australian cricket team. They’re coming on the supply ship.
TIM. Where are we?
JOHN. Christmas Island.
TIM. Oh, okay. But John, we’re in Sydney. In our apartment.
JOHN. What about the team?
TIM. It’s all right, Johnny. I think we should go to see the doctor.
JOHN. I’m not sick. We went to Coffs Harbour.
TIM. Yeah. We’re back. We went on our holiday with Peter. To Byron Bay. I have to go see the doctor and I’d like you to come with me.
JOHN. And we’re going to Melbourne for Christmas.
TIM. We’ll talk to the doctor about that.
JOHN. We’re going home for Christmas.
TIM. Okay, sweetie.
TIM walks JOHN to his bed.
Nine
Fairfield Hospital, Melbourne. JOHN is in bed. TIM is by his side.
JOHN. My Timba.
TIM. My John. Time for presents?
TIM hands JOHN a wrapped present.
JOHN. Better be fun. Mum just gave me pyjamas.
TIM. We’ll make it the best Christmas ever.
JOHN. There’s something for you under the bed.
TIM starts removing the black and red wrapping paper from his present.
I got Peter to get it for me.
JOHN’s present is now unwrapped.
TIM. It’s a stable-table. It’s like a tray with a pillow under it so you can eat in front of the teev.
TIM’s present is unwrapped.
Oh, darling, what on earth is it?
JOHN. It’s a document holder for writing. It’s got a little motorised clamp that moves up and down when you use the foot pedal.
TIM. It’s bizarre.
JOHN. You don’t like it.
TIM. It’s good, but I don’t know if the clamp is all that useful. (Aside.) You always have to tell the truth, don’t you, Timothy?
JOHN. For when you write.
TIM. I should. Might keep me sane.
JOHN. Wrapped in Essendon colours.
TIM. Always. I like it. I’ll use it. I promise. Your first present to me was wrapped in Essendon colours. You wrote on the card, ‘No longer sweet sixteen, hope the next seventeen are as much fun. I love you. John.’
JOHN. You remember that?
TIM. Maybe I’m paraphrasing but I don’t think so. And the present was Bryan Ferry’s Let’s Stick Together.
JOHN. That’s right.
TIM. You told me that you’d seen him on Countdown*, and he’d made you feel a bit sweaty.
JOHN. Did I?
TIM. And I remember then you looked around and checked the coast was clear and you snuck in a kiss on the lips. I remember that. And then the bell went and we went to Geography together. You’ve always outdone me on presents.
JOHN. Yesterday didn’t hurt a bit. I was just not here and now my ribs are all bruised from the bloody cardiac massage. I wish I’d gone. It was so easy, Timba. Are you okay hearing that?
TIM. No, I’m not ready for you to go.
JOHN. We’ve said our goodbyes, haven’t we?
The actor playing JOHN climbs out of bed and walks over to another present. He unwraps it. It contains a puppet of a diminished JOHN. He walks it to the bed. This puppet will take JOHN’s place for the remainder of the play.
TIM. You can’t go without me at your side.
JOHN. I know.
TIM. That’s the deal.
JOHN. I love you, Tim.
TIM. I love you too.
&n
bsp; TIM kisses the puppet. The actor playing JOHN remains on stage. JOHN’s breathing underscores the scene. Enter LOIS. She reaches into her bag and pulls out two salad rolls.
LOIS. Just salad. I hope that’s okay.
TIM. Thank you. That’s wonderful.
LOIS. In for the long haul.
TIM. There’s that fold-out: you’re welcome to sleep on it.
LOIS. Might sit up for a bit. Thank you.
TIM. You’ve got the time?
LOIS. About one a.m. You probably haven’t slept much.
TIM. No. Feeling it. Juliet and Peter have been great.
TIM rubs the puppet and JOHN’s groaning softens.
LOIS. Bob and I found a nice grave this morning. Yesterday. It’s under a tree, and we’re having a boulder as a headstone with a brass plaque on it. Do you like the sound of that?
TIM. I think that’s good.
LOIS. And Bob and I are going to be buried with him. We’d like that.
Silence but for JOHN’s breathing.
You have a sleep if you like.
TIM. Weird: tomorrow’s Australia Day.
LOIS. January flies.
TIM. Especially when you’re… My sleep’s so shallow. Did I sleep then?
LOIS. Think I did. It’s near three.
TIM. Don’t think I did.
LOIS. John, will you shut up, we’re trying to sleep.
They laugh.
TIM. Lois, do you remember the time I was staying at your house and I forgot to bring my school trousers?
LOIS. The only pair we had were old ones of Chris’s. I’ll never forget seeing you struggling to the bus with the legs at half-mast.
TIM. I can still hear John’s cackle.
LOIS. He is such a gentle soul. This is what I was afraid of. He loved you, Tim.
TIM. I hope he knows how loved he is, how many phone calls I get: people who say how unfair it is and how he’s the nicest person they’ve ever known.
LOIS. He was my favourite. I shouldn’t say it, all my boys are wonderful. But he was my favourite. Never a problem.
TIM. Bob spoke to me about the car, Lois. I said I didn’t want it but –
LOIS. You don’t have to deal with Bob. You come to me. The car is yours.
JOHN’s groans become louder. Enter BOB, PETER and JULIET. They surround the puppet.
TIM (aside). Blind fear – schoolboy about to get the strap. Bob and Lois holding his hands – Peter and Juliet at his feet. Where am I supposed to sit?
TIM slides in behind BOB and strokes JOHN’s head. BOB pushes in front of TIM and kisses JOHN’s forehead. JOHN’s breathing is soon shallower, quieter and then a new noise and a different exhale. BOB grabs a tissue and wipes the puppet’s chin. They wait. JOHN’s breathing stops. JOHN is dead. Silence. After a moment, BOB crashes around the room putting things into plastic bags. Only the actor who played JOHN is watching as TIM lowers his hand onto the puppet for their final touch. Exit LOIS and JULIET.
