URSULA RANI SARMA
THE DARK THINGS
OBERON BOOKS
LONDON
First published in 2009 by Oberon Books Ltd
Electronic edition published in 2012
Oberon Books Ltd
521 Caledonian Road, London N7 9RH
Tel: +44 (0) 20 7607 3637 / Fax: +44 (0) 20 7607 3629
e-mail: [email protected]
www.oberonbooks.com
The Dark Things copyright © Ursula Rani Sarma 2009
Ursula Rani Sarma is hereby identified as author of this play in accordance with section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. The author has asserted her moral rights.
All rights whatsoever in this play are strictly reserved and application for performance etc. should be made before commencement of rehearsal to Casarotto Ramsay, Waverley House, 7-12 Noel Street, London, W1F 8GQ ([email protected]). No performance may be given unless a licence has been obtained, and no alterations may be made in the title or the text of the play without the author’s prior written consent.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or binding or by any means (print, electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
PB ISBN: 978-1-84002-963-5
E ISBN: 978-1-8494-3875-9
Cover photograph by Euan Myles
eBook conversion by Replika Press PVT Ltd, India.
Visit www.oberonbooks.com to read more about all our books and to buy them. You will also find features, author interviews and news of any author events, and you can sign up for e-newsletters so that you’re always first to hear about our new releases.
Contents
Characters
Acknowledgements
Scene One
Scene Two
Scene Three
Scene Four
Scene Five
Scene Six
Scene Seven
Scene Eight
Scene Nine
Scene Ten
Scene Eleven
Scene Twelve
Scene Thirteen
Scene Fourteen (I)
Scene Fourteen (II)
Scene Fourteen (III)
Scene Fourteen (IV)
Scene Fifteen
The Dark Things
by Ursula Rani Sarma
First performed on 6 October 2009
at the Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh
Cast
Daniel Brian Ferguson
LJ Suzanne Donaldson
Steph Nicola Jo Cully
Gerry David Acton
Karl Keith Fleming
Director Dominic Hill
Designer Neil Warmington
Lighting Designer Lizzie Powell
Sound Designer John Harris
Company Stage Manager Gemma Smith
Deputy Stage Manager Dan Dixon
Assistant Stage Manager Kirsty Louise Airlie
Wardrobe Supervisor Sarah Holland
Characters
DANIEL
LJ
STEPH
GERRY
KARL
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Many thanks to; Katherine Mendelsohn, Mike Griffiths, Louise Stephens and all at the Traverse theatre; to the cast and crew who worked so hard and made the first production so memorable.
As always, sincere thanks to Mel Kenyon and all at Casarotto Ramsay.
Thanks to my mother Frances for everything, and to Susmita and Kiran.
Thanks also to John Tiffany, Philip Howard, Amit Kamboj, Siobhan Coyne, Fiona O’Loughlin and all at Oberon Books.
Finally, I would like to extend my sincere thanks and appreciation to Dominic Hill, for bringing The Dark Things to life. It has been a wonderful adventure.
SCENE ONE
Darkness. We hear DANIEL’s voice. As the light builds it reveals him standing in a wasteland. Despite the change of setting from scene to scene, the wasteland is present at all times. Broken bus fragments litter the floor. Large sheets of dull and torn metal are strewn here and there. A lone burnt shoe sits somewhere and a child’s school bag somewhere else. DANIEL is in his twenties. He is earnest, intense, and lost.
DANIEL: Darkness. (Beat.) Total and complete darkness. (Beat.) Oceanic darkness (Beat.) Like being at the bottom of a lake, on your back, stuck fast in the mud and sinking (Beat.) Trying to breathe, trying to decide if I am alive or dead, try telling myself it’s a dream and will myself to wake up and see…and see…my bedside table…yellow lamp…floral sheets (Beat.) comforting (Beat.) No. (Beat.) Then tell myself I’m drowning because I know that feeling…drowning…this…being…crushed, lungs being crushed, collapsing, no air, stuck fast in the mud and…drowning. (Beat.) Before…there was a woman beside me, bright coloured clothes, baby strapped to her chest, smiling, happy, made me smile without meaning to. (Beat.) There was a girl by the door with long red hair and her face was covered in freckles…and her skin…looked like porcelain…pale…translucent. She was very thin…looked like she could break easily…delicate…made me want to protect her. (Beat.) In that heat…everything seemed that little bit more…intense and colourful and I smiled at this red haired girl and she smiled back and the city didn’t feel like a city, it felt like we all wanted the same things in the end…and it was a good feeling…warm and comforting and good and then (Beat.) Darkness. (Beat.) Metal scraping and collapsing and the bus seats buckling and people screaming. (Beat.) My eyes closing and not re-opening. (Beat.) Heaving…things snapping…breaking…things being broken…bones…no…yes bones. (Beat.) The sound of bones breaking is…inhuman. I curl up…in a ball…pull my knees up duck my head down and pray…please God get me out of this…please God…please fucking God… I don’t care… I don’t care if everyone else is crushed to death and I’m… I’m the only one left (Beat, enter LJ, pretty, in her twenties and in a wheelchair.)
LJ: Are you done?
DANIEL: (Reaches forward and turns off a video camera which has been recording him, he is annoyed at being interrupted.) Almost
LJ: Good… I’ve a pain in my fucking arse listening to all this ‘poor me’ shite…let’s go for a pint
DANIEL: But I’m not done
LJ: What’s left to do?
DANIEL: I don’t know
LJ: I can help
DANIEL: No, (Beat.) you can’t
LJ: Oh (Beat.)
DANIEL: I wish you could though, it would be great if you could, it would be easier
LJ: Don’t know why they thought it would be a good idea for us to come here, I mean what good is it looking at all this?
DANIEL: They wanted us to feel empowered…to make us realise how lucky we were to walk away from it
LJ: Are you being funny? (DANIEL looks at her.) Walk away?
DANIEL: It’s a figure of speech
LJ: Tell that to my legs if you see them…maybe I’ll have them stuffed…put them on the living room wall beside the telly (DANIEL looks at her horrified.) Jesus…relax… I’m only fucking about…face of you…you’d swear they were your legs I was on about… (She exits.)
DANIEL reaches forward and switches on the camera.
DANIEL: And then I hear a voice…calling me and it’s a familiar voice…it sounds comforting…and it’s coming from above…and more than anything… I want to be near that voice. (Beat.) And I will myself to move…will my lungs to inflate and push outwards and push upwards…force
my bones up towards the voice…towards the light beyond the darkness and beyond the metal scraping bone breaking…and then the voice gets louder and louder until it kind of… (Relishing the moment.) wraps itself around me…and it is heat and comfort and safety and home and I – (LJ enters.)
LJ: – Danny are you coming or what?
DANIEL: (Annoyed.) I said I’m not done (Beat, looks at her, LJ’s face is impossible to read. He softens.) Alright. (She doesn’t respond, just stares at him.) Alright.
LJ: (She softens, but not too much.) Good then
She wheels herself off, he reaches out and presses stop, he sees something on the ground. It’s a toy aeroplane. He picks it up and stares at it. Lights down.
SCENE TWO
DANIEL’s flat. The place is in disarray. There are half finished paintings here and there with one particularly large abstract painting somewhere visible. There is a couch with a sleeping bag, newspapers, cups and clothes on the ground. STEPH, early twenties enters. She has a childlike energy, full of naïveté and desperate to be loved. She is wearing pyjamas and holding a carton of orange juice and a box of cornflakes. She eats and drinks from both. She walks over to the abstract painting and stares at it. A cornflake goes down the wrong way and she coughs, spluttering cornflakes and orange juice over the painting. She panics and wipes at it with her sleeve, some of the paint comes off on her pyjamas. She panics. She peers at the painting, it’s that abstract that it’s not entirely clear if it’s made a difference to it. She then squirts a little more orange juice over it and rubs it in. She stands back from it and admires it. She moves to the couch and picks up a walkman. She puts on the headphones and presses play.
STEPH: (Listening, then presses pause.) Today is the first day of the rest of my life (Presses play listens then presses pause.) Today is a gift and not a burden (Presses play listens and then presses pause.) I am the captain of my own ship of motivation (Presses play, listens then pauses.) I am special (Beat, she likes the sound of the words.) I am special (She smiles, presses play then pauses.) I am special, I am precious, I am motivated (Takes the earphones off and leaves them on the table.) I am special, I am precious, I am motivated. (She looks at the remote control thoughtfully, picks it up and switches on a TV. We hear a day time chat show, she snuggles down into the couch. DANIEL enters, he has a bandage around one arm and is carrying a newspaper. STEPH sees bandage, runs to him fussing.) Oh my God…oh my God…are you okay? What happened? Did you get mugged? Did you? Where did it happen? Did they get your wallet? Did you report it? I knew you were going to get mugged I had a premonition. I had like a vision this morning and you were being mugged by a big guy who kind of looked like Jimmy Nail. Oh my god… (Hand over mouth.) did you get mugged by Jimmy Nail?
DANIEL: No Steph, I didn’t get mugged by Jimmy Nail
STEPH: (Looks at him suspiciously.) Are you sure?
DANIEL: I’m sure
STEPH: Who mugged you then?
DANIEL: No one, I wasn’t mugged
STEPH: Maybe you’re concussed, Shirley Spenser was mugged and she couldn’t remember her dog’s name for weeks and she’d had him since she was six and it’s not like it was a hard name I mean his name was Spot and he had like a huge black spot on his –
DANIEL: – I wasn’t mugged
STEPH: Then what happened?
DANIEL: I just…fell down some stairs…stop fussing
STEPH: Sorry…sorry… (Beat, looks at him adoringly.) I know I’ll make you breakfast.
I could make some French Toast like Mum used to make
DANIEL: (Beat.) Alright
STEPH: Yeah? Will I make French toast?
DANIEL: That would be nice
STEPH: Great… (Beat.) great (Exits, DANIEL looks about the place disgusted at the mess, he searches for a place to sit down. STEPH reappears.) Danny?
DANIEL: Yeah?
STEPH: Thing is… I’m not really sure… I mean I’m kind of sure but not completely…how to actually…how to make…French Toast…you want some regular toast instead? I make good toast
DANIEL: No
STEPH: (Disappointed.) Oh go on, I make really nice toast
DANIEL: I’m not even hungry… I just said yes because I hadn’t had French Toast in… I dunno…years. Look I got you the paper (Shows her.)
STEPH: What for?
DANIEL: Accommodation
STEPH: Oh right…shit… I’m in your way… I know I’m in your way I should have gone ages ago I’m sorry… I’m messy and I take up too much room and after all you’ve been through… I’ll go…you know what… I’ll just go
DANIEL: No Steph…it’s not like that it’s –
STEPH: It’s like when we were small and I was always hanging about your room and touching your toys and you were always trying to get me to get out…it’s like that…isn’t it? I’m sorry you know, I am (Beat.) I’m sorry…sorry
DANIEL: (Guilty.) Stop saying that (She looks at him.) stop saying sorry
STEPH: Sorry (Realises she’s said it again.) oh sorr – (She clamps her hand over her mouth and shakes her head, she can’t help it.)
DANIEL: (Looks at her wearily.) Look you can stay here (STEPH looks at him hopefully.) for as long as you want
STEPH: Oh thank you…thank you thank you… I’ll be good I swear… I’ll be tidy… I’ll be Suzy home maker I swear. (Picks up the paper.) Nice picture…you look a bit scruffy though…you’re going to have to buy posher clothes if you’re going to be in the paper… (She looks at him in adoration.) God you’re famous
DANIEL: Not really
STEPH: You’re in the paper. That means you’re famous. They only put famous people in the paper. (DANIEL looks at the painting of the ship and notices something odd, STEPH quickly takes it from him.) What exactly is this one?
DANIEL: (Looking up.) That’s the only one you said you liked
STEPH: I did… I do… I’m just not sure…what it is exactly?
DANIEL: How could you like it if you don’t know what it is?
STEPH: Is that not what it’s all about?
DANIEL: It’s a ship…a burning ship…sinking (STEPH turns her head to one side, DANIEL sees that she can’t see it and comes towards her, he gestures towards the painting.) See? There’s the stern
STEPH: What’s a stern?
DANIEL: You don’t see it?
STEPH: I still like it though… I do…pretty colours
DANIEL: What is that? (Touches the painting and smells his hand.) Is that juice?
STEPH: (Changing the subject.) That girl called again today
DANIEL: What girl?
STEPH: In the wheelchair, she called about twelve
DANIEL: (Beat.) LJ
STEPH: Sorry. LJ. She said she’ll be in The Peace Park, (Beat.) said she’d wait there for you
DANIEL: For how long?
STEPH: (Like it’s weird.) Said she’d be there all day, said she’d wait for you…all day
DANIEL: (Looks at his watch.) Right… (Beat, reluctantly.) I should go (Beat.) I’ll go (He puts on his coat and stands by the door.)
STEPH: You sure you’re okay?
DANNY: I’m okay
STEPH: It’s just…it’s just you seem a bit different
DANIEL: I’m the same as I always was
STEPH: (Smiles.) Good… I’m glad (He exits, she looks about.) I am the captain of my own ship of motivation (She picks up the paper.) I am. (She puts the paper down and picks up the remote control.) I…
She turns the volume of the TV up and sits on the couch. Lights down.
SCENE THREE
The park. LJ and DANIEL sit with two takeaway mugs of coffee.
DANIEL: It looks worse than it is
LJ: You just fell over?
DANIEL: Missed a step, it’s fine, it was alright actually, didn’t hurt. So…what you been doing?
LJ: Nothing
DANIEL: Right
LJ: You?
DANIEL: Nothing…well working…trying to work…but nothing
<
br /> LJ: Like me. Nothing
DANIEL: (Beat.) Sometimes I can just sit there for hours, waiting for something to happen, like being a kid and waiting for your dad to pick you up but he never comes and all the other kids get picked up but you’re still sitting there waiting (Beat.) It’s fucking terrible.
LJ: Not getting picked up from school?
DANIEL: No…just…doing nothing…not being able to do…anything…
LJ: What can’t you do?
DANIEL: What?
LJ: What can’t you do? I mean I can’t ride a bike, what can’t you do?
DANIEL says nothing, he looks away.
DANIEL: That’s not what I meant. (Beat.) It’s good to see you
LJ: Right
DANIEL: It is, really good (Beat.) Doesn’t seem like it happened at all sometimes, unless you’re around…
LJ: Thought you didn’t have a girlfriend
DANIEL: I don’t
LJ: A girl keeps answering your phone
DANIEL: My sister, well my half sister, Steph, you met her at the hospital, driving me crazy, her stuff is everywhere, kitchen’s in a state, I came home today at four and she was still in her pyjamas, lazing about, talking about breakfast
LJ: If you want her out then chuck her out
DANIEL: (Beat.) It’s not that simple is it…it’s not…she’s family and you can’t do that to family can you?
LJ: (Beat.) I was family when my dad chucked me out
DANIEL: (Beat.) I couldn’t, the guilt, I just couldn’t. That’s it with family, you do things…nice things for them…and you want it to make you a good person because you’ve done something good but it doesn’t…because you didn’t really want to do it in the first place, you know? (LJ doesn’t respond.) She needs a hand, otherwise she’ll be back home stacking shelves for the rest of her life
LJ: What’s wrong with stacking shelves?
DANIEL: Nothing
LJ: Someone has to do it, otherwise you’d reach up for your cornflakes and there wouldn’t be any there, would there?
DANIEL: (Beat.) I wasn’t… I was talking about…about…family…
LJ: Like I said, my dad chucked me out when I was sixteen
The Dark Things Page 1
