THE AWAKE
BY
KEN URBAN
DRAMATISTS
PLAY SERVICE
INC.
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THE AWAKE
Copyright © 2014, Ken Urban
All Rights Reserved
CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that performance of THE
AWAKE is subject to payment of a royalty. It is fully protected under the copyright
laws of the United States of America, and of all countries covered by the International
Copyright Union (including the Dominion of Canada and the rest of the British
Commonwealth), and of all countries covered by the Pan-American Copyright
Convention, the Universal Copyright Convention, the Berne Convention, and of all
countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations. All rights,
including without limitation professional/amateur stage rights, motion picture,
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translation into foreign languages are strictly reserved. Particular emphasis is placed
upon the matter of readings, permission for which must be secured from the Author’s
agent in writing.
The English language stock and amateur stage performance rights in the United States,
its territories, possessions and Canada for THE AWAKE are controlled exclusively by
DRAMATISTS PLAY SERVICE, INC., 440 Park Avenue South, New York, NY
10016. No professional or nonprofessional performance of the Play may be given
without obtaining in advance the written permission of DRAMATISTS PLAY
SERVICE, INC., and paying the requisite fee.
Inquiries concerning all other rights should be addressed to Abrams Artists Agency,
275 Seventh Avenue, 26th Floor, New York, NY 10001. Attn: Max Grossman.
SPECIAL NOTE
Anyone receiving permission to produce THE AWAKE is required to give credit to the
Author(s) as sole and exclusive Author(s) of the Play on the title page of all programs
distributed in connection with performances of the Play and in all instances in which
the title of the Play appears, including printed or digital materials for advertising,
publicizing or otherwise exploiting the Play and/or a production thereof. Please see
your production license for font size and typeface requirements.
Be advised that there may be additional credits required in all programs and
promotional material. Such language will be listed under the “Additional Billing”
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required billing is included in the requisite places, per the terms of the license.
SPECIAL NOTE ON SONGS AND RECORDINGS
For performances of copyrighted songs, arrangements or recordings mentioned in
these Plays, the permission of the copyright owner(s) must be obtained. Other songs,
arrangements or recordings may be substituted provided permission from the copyright
owner(s) of such songs, arrangements or recordings is obtained; or songs, arrangements
or recordings in the public domain may be substituted.
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Photo by Kevin Thomas Garcia
A scene from the New York City production of The Awake.
Set design by David L. Arsenault
This play is for Matthew (as always).
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THE AWAKE premiered at 59E59 Theatres (Elysabeth Kleinhans,
Artistic Director; Peter Tear, Executive Producer) in New York City,
in a co-production with kef productions (Adam Fitzgerald, Artistic
Director; Lori Prince, Producing Director), on August 22, 2013. It
was directed by Adam Fitzgerald; the set design was by David L.
Arsenault; the lighting design was by Travis McHale; the sound
design was by Christian Frederickson; the costume design was by
Lisa Zinni; the projection design was by Brad Peterson; and the
stage manager was Jessa Nicole Pollack. The cast was as follows:
MALCOLM .............................................................Andy Phelan
GABRIELLE............................................................... Lori Prince
NATE ................................................................ Maulik Pancholy
THE ENSEMBLE ..........Jeff Biehl, Dee Nelson, Jocelyn Kuritsky
CELESTE ............................................................. Miranda Jackel
THE AWAKE was developed at Primary Stages, New York, 2012
(directed by Seth Sklar-Heyn); Donmar Warehouse, London, 2011
(directed by Seth Sklar-Heyn); Portland Stage Company, Portland,
Maine, 2011 (directed by Melia Bensussen); and Theatre @ Boston
Court, Pasadena, California, 2010 (directed by Jessica Kubzansky).
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ACKNOLWEDGEMENTS
Ken would like to thank directors Adam Fitzgerald, Seth SklarHeyn, Melia Bensussen, and Jessica Kubzansky, as well as all the
actors who have worked on this play. Their hard work and belief in
this play is imprinted on these pages.
Ken would also like to thank the MacDowell Colony for time
and support during the writing of this play.
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CHARACTERS
MALCOLM — a young man on hiatus, white, mid-20s.
GABRIELLE — a woman on the run, white, 30s – early 40s.
NATE — a man hunted, with a face etched by fear. MiddleEastern, 30s.
THE ENSEMBLE:
A male actor in his 30s–40s, who plays:
THE FIGURE — face unseen.
THE DIRECTOR — Eastern-European.
THE HUSBAND
MALE COWORKER
ROBERT
EASTERN-EUROPEAN ACTOR
A female actor in her 50s, who plays:
THE MOTHER
THE PRINCIPAL
FEMALE COWORKER
EASTERN-EUROPEAN ACTOR
A female actor in her late 20s, who plays:
THE RESCUE WORKER
THE DOCTOR
THE DAUGHTER
AWKWARD COWORKER
EASTERN-EUROPEAN ACTOR
and
A young girl, 10–12 years old, who plays CELESTE.
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PLACE
A small New England town, not too far from
the Canadian border.
America. Both Real and Imaginary.
TIME
Present day.
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SCRIPT NOTES
A “shift” indicates a change in location and time for the characters.
The script also annotates places where sound is key to a moment
or scene.
PRODUCTION NOTES
The play should be staged simply. I see it as a “radio play for
the stage.”
In the first New York production, the play was performed on a
rectangular playing area of 20' x 8'. The cast was onstage for the
majority of the performance. The only set pieces were four chairs.
No props were used; costumes were simple. There was an extensive
soundscape alongside projections. We learned during rehearsal that
simple was often the most powerful way to tell the story.
For the first production, a child actress played the role of Celeste in
the final dinner scene during the third movement of the play. We
felt that seeing an actual child in that role helped tell Gabrielle’s
story in a powerful way. Casting considerations might make that
difficult for future productions. If the young female ensemble
member continues to play the daughter Celeste during that final
scene, it is important that she be convincing as a young girl of age
11 or 12.
The voices of Nate’s parents heard on the phone call in Part Two
could be provided by actors outside of the company or by the male
and older female chorus members. In either case, it should be a
sound cue rather than done live.
The score for the melody of Gabrielle’s song is included at the end
of the script. You can listen to a recording of Gabrielle’s song “All
My Days” here: www.kenurban.org/music
The play should be performed without an intermission.
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Tired and unhappy, you think of houses
… It is time to shake yourself! and break this
Banal dream …
— Delmore Schwartz
Whoever cannot seek
the unforeseen sees nothing,
for the known way is an impasse.
— Heraclitus
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THE AWAKE
ONE: VOYAGE
MALCOLM. Water on the windshield, a flake
Then another
I take the key out of the ignition and
Nothing.
Sit.
I notice the cold. More flakes on the windshield. I look out. Almost
a foot of snow on the ground already.
The driveway of my parents’ house. Far from a highway or major
road. My parents’ house.
Funny, I still say “parents.”
Time to go inside and —
(Shift.)
NATE. Answer all his questions. In this room, at the police station
where he’s brought me. Showed up at home, asked me to come
with him. Across from the table from me, he sits. Where you from?
Think of my mum and dad. I call them Mum and Dad. ’Cause I’m
Canadian. This man is not. Asks again, Where are you from?
The same questions. Again and again. Keep thinking of Mum and
Dad. The look in their eyes when he came to the door. Wonder
what they must be thinking. Waiting for me at home. Catch sight
of myself in the one-sided mirror. For the first time, see myself as
he sees me. I see me as he sees me. His eyes tell me he’s decided
what I am. And in that instant. Know what’s coming. A wave of
sickness starts in my stomach and I —
(Shift.)
GABRIELLE. (No accent.) Eyes still open. Can’t sleep. Been a
week since the news broke, and I had to ask, Is it true what they’re
saying? Are you part of that? In the days since, I accuse my every
reflection with the same judgment: Tanya, you spent a life with
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someone and never knew, no, never let yourself know what your
husband does.
Staring at the ceiling, lying on my back. Enough. Slide out of the
sheets, hoping Robert won’t stir. But he does.
Half-asleep, he murmurs
HUSBAND. Tanya, it’s late, come back to bed.
GABRIELLE. Ignore him. Stumble downstairs. Stare at the TV,
will do anything to forget, I watch and watch, some foreign film
with the sound off, and I
NATE and GABRIELLE. Close my eyes
And imagine I’m somewhere else.
(Shift.)
NATE. Open my eyes. Now I’m standing in front of a room full
of kids at desks.
GABRIELLE. Open my eyes. Now I’m in the movie.
(Shift.)
DIRECTOR. (In an Eastern-European accent of undeterminable
origin.) Action.
GABRIELLE. (Now in an Eastern-European accent of undeterminable
origin that she [mostly] maintains until the end of the play.) I wear foam
headpiece, powder-blue and with triangles around the crown, and
this headpiece means I am Statue of Liberty. When I put it on, I am
Statue of Liberty. Is good role. Being star of action movie. (No accent.)
Keep going. (Accent returns.) I play, I play many roles. In my. Career.
This one. Oh, this one. Better than child prostitute. Always child
prostitute they want me to play. Or domestic, movies about home
life. Bleh. In this movie picture, my fellow actors throw things at me
like cups of piss. But it isn’t really piss. It means to represent their
feelings toward America, toward me, which I now represent.
I am actress, Gabrielle, yes!
(Shift.)
NATE. I’m standing in front of a room full of kids at desks. Far away
from that room at the police station. No, this place, I know. School.
I’m dressed, at least. It’s not one of those dreams. No, I got away.
I hand out the exams. A foreign language exam in a foreign language
I can’t speak. I crack a lot of jokes. One of the students laughs. Calls
me Mister Edward. I suddenly feel beloved by these students, even
though I’m not their usual teacher, just a sub. As any high school
teacher will tell you, it’s not an easy thing to do. Be beloved when
you’re, ah, an interloper, an outsider. No, I belong.
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Then they start asking me questions about conjugation, verbs and
prepositions, and everything that comes out of my mouth is jibberish.
One of the students sprouts antlers and I feel something behind me,
turn around and there’s someone there —
(Shift.)
GABRIELLE. On the movie set, my fellow actors, they say
things like:
EASTERN-EUROPEAN ACTORS. (Overlapping.) America,
you hypocrite
America, you torturer of men
America
GABRIELLE. There are many variations on theme, and it never
does not amaze me the expressions of hatred to America and the
Americans that my fellow actors conjure spontaneous-like in front
of camera.
EASTERN-EUROPEAN ACTORS. (Overlapping.)
America, the fat vampire butcher coward
America, this haberdasher of hellacious undoing
America, the evil
America
(Shift.)
GABRIELLE. (No accent.) Where is she? (Accent returns.)
I’m not from here. That is for sure. This is not my country. My
country’s not even on a map anymore. Poof. A small place, small
people, so boring, bleh. A pencil marking rubbed out, no longer on
any world map.
Gabrielle has no home. I just exist. This is fine for me. Because they
pay me. Is exciting, being actress, being paid money, yes, is good
thing.
(Shift.)
MALCOLM. I am sitting at the kitchen table.
MOTHER. Want something else?
MALCOLM. No, thanks, Mom.
MOTHER. Never get home in this.
MALCOLM. Should be fine.
Main roads will be clear.
MOTHER. Remember Judy?
Your second-grade teacher.
Anyway. She asked about you.
She came into the office the other day. Was looking for work.
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(Faux-whisper.) Divorce.
Coming to dinner on Sunday?
MALCOLM. Sure.
MOTHER. You should stay here tonight.
MALCOLM. The roads’ll be fine.
MOTHER. There’s clean sheets on your old bed.
MALCOLM. I work early.
MOTHER. Anything new at the store?
MALCOLM. Fine. Slow.
MOTHER. Who’s buying books? It’s a wonder he can stay open.
He still paying you the same?
MALCOLM. It’s fine.
MOTHER. After all that school.
MALCOLM. Mom.
MOTHER. Just saying, Malcolm.
MALCOLM. Not easy to find a job here. Besides it gives me time.
I’ve been writing again. Working on a new story about a flooded
world. Maybe I could read some of it —
MOTHER. Could work with me. Agysill is always hiring people
for the phones.
MALCOLM. How are you feeling? The other day you said —
MOTHER. I’m OK. Still headachey a bit. Nothing serious though.
MALCOLM. Still? You said it was bad enough that you got sick to
your stomach. Go to the doctor.
MOTHER. I’m fine. (Silence. Silence. Silence.)
Cisza leczy.1
Your grandmother used to say that.
Whenever folks stopped speaking at dinner.
MALCOLM. What’s it mean?
MOTHER. Cisza leczy.
Silence is healing.
I should’ve taught you the language.
You never understood the language.
(Shift.)
NATE. Turn around. A figure. In a hoodie. Can’t see his face. Turn
back to my students, silent faces, then turn back, and the figure’s
gone. Face front, they’re all gone. Stand alone in the classroom. No
no no no no I’m safe here. I’m their teacher. I’m in control.
Walk through the halls of the school, faster now, trying to find my
1 Definitely Polish. Pronounced “tshEE-sha LEH-tschy.”
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next classroom. Something’s wrong. From the corner of my eye, I
see a student pointing at me, his eyes vanish, lips turn grimace,
features melt away.
I start to sweat. Feel it trickle down my forehead.
I ask the teachers if they have my exams, if they know where my
classroom is. They stare, and in their eyes I see myself reflected back.
I turn and there is the door. I can leave. Escape.
Deep breath
In and out
And
Push the door
But before
Feel a hand grab my arm —
FIGURE. Can you come with me, please?
(Shift.)
(The sound of the mother’s labored breathing from upstairs.)
MALCOLM. I don’t move
From upstairs
I can hear her
Shallow breath
A wheeze
A fight for air
A sound I know is not right
Mom?
Should run up those stairs
Still I sit at the kitchen table
Can’t move
Can’t move.
(Shift.)
GABRIELLE. Today on set, my big scene.
The Statue of Liberty, kidnapped, now standing trial. Lady Liberty,
blue foam crown cocked on her head, while lead actor, who is also
director — oh, yes, it is one of those kind of movie pictures — while
director and lead actor yells at me for my crimes against the world.
And on cue I cry. That’s what I’m supposed to do. I cry and all
forgive Lady Liberty.
I am good movie actress. I can do that. ’Course I can cry on cue.
Use the memory. Remember sad thing. And then. Tears. Simple.
And then all will be forgiven.
It is time
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I close my eyes to turn the switch
But funny the things I see
Flashes of a world I no longer want to know
(No accent.) Snow on houses
A girl’s hands
My husband’s stares
The window of my bedroom
(Accent returns.) No!
I will not I will not go back there
Try again.
(No accent.) Snow on houses
A girl’s hands
My husband’s stares
The window of my bedroom
(Accent returns.) I left that life behind, will never return!
Again.
(No accent.) Snow on houses
A girl’s hands
My husband’s stares
The window of my bedroom
(Accent returns.) No!
(Shift.)
NATE. Feel the grip on my arm, I turn —
PRINCIPAL. Will you come with me, please?
NATE. Of course.
(Shift.)
MALCOLM. Finally, I pull away from the table, start to walk up
the stairs. My leg almost gives way.
Mom? You OK?
I open the door of her bedroom.
She lies on her bed. Eyes closed. Yes, she’s asleep, sound asleep, on
top of the white comforter. I curl up beside her.
Like I’m thirteen
Like that day
The day Dad left us
Just walked out the door and never came back
And I lay down
Now it’s my turn to
Close my eyes
And imagine I’m somewhere else. (Shift.)
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NATE. I sit in the principal’s office.
PRINCIPAL. Your name —
NATE. Oh, um, Edward.
PRINCIPAL. Edward?
NATE. No, I mean, Nate. Sorry.
PRINCIPAL. Nate?
NATE. Right, Nate. Sorry. My students, they call me —
I’m, um, Nate, miss.
PRINCIPAL. Nate. What are you doing here?
NATE. I’m a sub. I’m here to give these exams, foreign language.
PRINCIPAL. Exams in a foreign language you don’t know.
NATE. Well. It’s rusty. Sorry. Sometimes I get waylaid. Thrown off
track. I thought this is where I was supposed to be. But then I’m
not entirely sure. I get confused. I know that sounds peculiar.
PRINCIPAL. Do you think it’s appropriate to teach something
you don’t know?
NATE. No I can speak —
PRINCIPAL. What is your name?
NATE. Nate.
PRINCIPAL. You said Edward before.
NATE. Sorry. See, sometimes when I’m on edge, and someone
asks me a question, I just, I just —
PRINCIPAL. I’m their principal. They’re like my children.
NATE. I love my students. My mum and dad always thought I’d
make a great teacher.
PRINCIPAL. You don’t think you’re really here, do you?
NATE. Excuse me.
PRINCIPAL. Where do you think you are?
NATE. I’m, I’m here, to give the exams.
PRINCIPAL. Where do you come from?
(Shift.)
MALCOLM. Drip
(Shift.)
PRINCIPAL. I asked (A figure appears.)
PRINCIPAL and FIGURE. Where do you come from?
NATE. Have to give the exam. I’m just gonna go.
PRINCIPAL. Go?
PRINCIPAL and FIGURE. You’re not going anywhere.
NATE. Please, miss —
PRINCIPAL and FIGURE. Tell me about the meeting —
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NATE. Miss, I should go —
PRINCIPAL and FIGURE. You will be taken care of.
NATE. No, you don’t understand.
(Shift.)
MALCOLM. Drip
DripDrip.
(Shift.)
NATE. I see his reflection in the window.
(Shift.)
MALCOLM. Drip
DripDrip
DripDripDrip
(Shift.)
MALCOLM and GABRIELLE. BOOM —
MALCOLM. Then a kind of
Swoosh
Like that.
Swoosh
GABRIELLE. That’s the sound I hear
NATE. I’m not at the school, I haven’t escaped
GABRIELLE and NATE. BOOM
NATE. A Punch To The Back Of The Head
MALCOLM. And I open my eyes.
Water.
The room is filling up with water.
On either side of the bed, water’s lapping. The windows are all
cracked open. The snow melted suddenly? I don’t know. Then I
realize there’s movement. The bed is moving. Floating. The water,
the current, is moving the bed. We are heading for the door.
Mom, you should wake up now.
GABRIELLE. An actress who cannot cry
MALCOLM. Mom — !
GABRIELLE. I open my eyes and —
GABRIELLE and NATE. BOOM
(Shift.)
(The sound of the film set in flames.)
GABRIELLE. The entire film set is in flames. The room fills with
black black smoke. I turn to see lead actor and director, and I see his
face, looking at me, that face. Even through the smoke, my watering
eyes, I know that face.
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Can make out his voice
HUSBAND. What’s the matter? Come back to bed.
GABRIELLE. His face. This cannot be the person I love. No.
I must escape.
And just then —
GABRIELLE and NATE. BOOM
(Shift.)
MOTHER. Malcolm — ?
MALCOLM. Mom — !
MOTHER. The bed —
MALCOLM. Mom the house —
MOTHER. Water, a flood —
MALCOLM. Hold on —
MOTHER. What’s happening? —
MALCOLM. Mom we’re going to —
GABRIELLE and MALCOLM. BOOM
(Shift.)
MALCOLM. The bed hits the door frame head-on. But it’s too big
to fit through the door.
I hear this big rush of water. I crawl to the end of the bed and I see it.
The stairs. Water’s rushing down the stairs, creating a fall, like some
kind of log flume. I hear another rush. The window on the left’s
broken open, water comes pouring in, creating a wave that pushes
the bed sideways, spinning it around.
Mom, Hold On!
And the force has moved the bed sideways. And another wave
pushes the bed again, dislodging it past the doorframe. And now
we are heading full-speed towards the stairs.
Oh shoot shoot
And down we go. Fast. The bed is cast down the stairs by the water.
For a moment, I feel the bed go airborne, above the torrent of water
propelling down the stairs, and we hit the wall at the
the
the
landing —
NATE, GABRIELLE, and MALCOLM. BOOM
MALCOLM. We hit the wall and no longer airborne, the tide pushes
us down the remaining stairs even faster. Water’s hitting my face, but
still the bed’s floating, we aren’t taking on that much water.
And then in front of me, the front door. Except the door’s gone.
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Been cracked by the force of the water.
And the current from the falls that were once the stairs of my parents’
house pushes the floating bed with me and my mother out in into
the morning air, out into the front yard, which is no longer a front
yard, but a vast ocean where nothing’s visible except submerged trees
and in the distance, the submerged houses of the neighbors.
And we are traveling. Me and my mom.
And I turn and I see this, this, this, um, this sight, this this wall of
water that’s forming behind my parents’ home
and hear the terrible crack
a caterwauling sound of the sheer massive density of water bursting
over and through and under this house forming a tidal wave the
likes of which I’ve never seen and most likely the likes of which I
will never see again because a human
try as he might
cannot help but be awed by the impressive sight of nature unfurled
even if he knows that this sight
this massive body of water speeding towards him
might in fact be the final sight he will ever see.
NATE and GABRIELLE. BOOM
(Shift.)
NATE. When I come to, try to open my eyes but there’s just dark,
something covers my face hands pulled back shooting pain tightness
around my wrists I’m kneeling.
Where am I? The basement of the school? Yes. There’s just been
some mistake. My students are upstairs waiting for me.
Then
I hear — (The sound of savage dogs.)
Um I used to like dogs but now when I hear a bark I —
The cage has a cement floor and metal fencing on all four sides
there’s two buckets one’s for water one’s for piss and shit that’s what
he tells me the man with the dogs whose face I never see.
At first I sit still on the cement or I walk the space.
I want to say it’s five meters by seven, I mean, feet, five feet or, I
don’t know but I know it’s nine footsteps one side six footsteps the
other and the whole space, the perimeter, can be walked in about
thirty footsteps. Or so. Give or take a step.
Then he takes me hoods me takes me somewhere else takes off the
hood and then the questions begin.
(Shift.)
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FIGURE. What did you bang to sparkleklang?
NATE. What? (The sound of a punch. Nate reacts to the blow.)
FIGURE. When punk you first begamadunk?
NATE. I don’t know what you mean — (The sound of a punch more
violent than before. Nate reacts to the blow.)
FIGURE. Did you shimmerslam of glumfist now?
NATE. Please, I don’t — (The sound of a punch more violent than
before. Nate reacts to the blow.) I think we don’t speak the same
language. Or maybe we do. I just can’t understand, but he doesn’t
believe me. He keeps asking me these things over and over again, as
if they expect me to comprehend. I want to say what he wants to
hear but I never can.
I want to confess what he wants me to confess but I have no idea
what he wants me to confess to. I will tell him anything, I will believe
anything, to make him stop.
When I’m alone, I make up sentences in my mind. I make them up,
pull them apart, rearrange, subtract the words. It distracts me.
Last night, I was pummeled granite, smoothed up, majestic, broken,
whole
Last night, I was pummeled granite, smooth, majestic, whole
Last night, I was pummeled smooth, majestic
Last night, I was pummeled
No
Again
Today, I give in to dreams, far from here, warm, safe
Today, I give in to dreams, far, warm, safe
Today, I give in, safe, warm
Today, I give in
No
Again
Tomorrow, I will be over there, back with them, at home
Tomorrow, I will be over there, with them, home
Tomorrow, I will be over there, home
Tomorrow, I will be over
Um. I stop this game because the sentences all end the same. Words
won’t help me here.
MALCOLM and GABRIELLE. BOOM
(Shift.)
(The sound of the film set in flames.)
GABRIELLE. The bursting wood, metal split by flame, these
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explosions all around me. Yet, this man, this director, his face stares
at me. I turn away from him, see, in the distance, a door, my exit,
my chance at escape. But just before I move, his hand grabs me
NO — !
(Shift.)
(Nate heaves. Nate heaves again.)
NATE. Sometimes he comes into the cage and ah punches um me
kicks me and um my lips swell split and ah there’s a feeling ah feels
like um throwing up but mouth’s been sewn shut um and um just
keeps building in my mouth ah burning everything inside um
if I could just open my eyes and be back at the school if I could
just —
(Shift.)
MALCOLM. Am I dead?
Are we both dead?
Perhaps, surprisingly, those are not the first questions I ask myself.
What time is it?
When will I eat again?
Those are the questions I find myself asking. Though, I guess, they’re
not un-related to the dead question. I wouldn’t want to know the
time or when the next meal would be if I thought I was dead. Since,
arguably, you don’t concern yourself with food or time when you’re
dead. This, I realize, is an assumption I’m making about death. I
have no way to know this, really.
Am I dead?
No.
We made it.
(Shift.)
MOTHER. It’s impossible. It’s all water.
MALCOLM. No. There must be land. Somewhere.
MOTHER. I can’t see anything.
MALCOLM. Over there. There must be.
MOTHER. Malcolm, are we the only ones left?
MALCOLM. No, Mom. We’re going to find them. Someone’s
gonna find us.
MOTHER. It’s all silent. I hear nothing.
MALCOLM. Cisza leczy.
MOTHER. I’m scared.
MALCOLM. We just need to find land. People.
MOTHER. I need to lie down. My head —
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MALCOLM. Of course. Rest, OK?
MOTHER. There is so much to say to each other. How proud I
am of you —
MALCOLM. Shhh. We have time. I’m gonna get us out of this.
Now you rest.
I’m gonna take care of you.
(Shift.)
Mom sleeps, on the snow-white comforter. She hasn’t had a brain
aneurysm. No.
I paddle the bed, navigating through the deep deep water with one
of the harder decorative pillows, occasionally calling out when I see
something on the horizon. But nothing yet.
I tell myself I’m a discoverer or explorer or something. On an
adventure. On a voyage to a new, ah, world, I guess. Like the voyage
my mom took with her mom. Eight years old holding her mother’s
hand on the deck of a ship watching home fade into memory as a
new land appears on a horizon, terrifying, beckoning. Now she and
her son make a journey to discover something that I just know is
out there. A new land.
But then —
GABRIELLE and MALCOLM. BOOM —
(Shift.)
NATE. He comes in, the man. Think he’s going to start the questions
again. But no.
Pushes me to my knees.
Blindfolds me.
Ties my hands.
Don’t make a sound.
Don’t struggle.
Don’t want him to strike me.
It’s all silent.
Still.
I hear him place something beside me. I try to peer from underneath
my blindfold to see what it is. But can’t.
It’s quiet.
Has he left?
Be Still.
Be Still.
Still.
Then this sound from the corner of the cage — (The sound of
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distorted and clipped heavy metal music played at deafening volume.
Nate tries to shield his ears but can’t. The sound stops.)
I move slightly, my knees touch some device he’s left. What is it? A
boom box? Some kind of speaker or, I don’t know, megaphone, or.
I don’t hear him. Don’t think he’s here. But not sure. Try and move
slowly away from the speaker before — (The sound of distorted and
clipped heavy metal music played at deafening volume.)
(Shift.)
(The sound of the film set in flames.)
GABRIELLE. NO — !
He grabs me, this director, this man
But I knock him down to the ground
He crumbles as I begin my escape
The chase music begins and
I run through the sound stage flames on either side
The smoke is dark dark black but I can still see the outlines of figures
I hear the director behind me
HUSBAND. Tanya, it’s late, come back to bed.
GABRIELLE. Getting close
Run
Dodging the flames that lap at me on either side
Crash
Wood and lights tumble down from the sky
Dodge each piece
There, I see it
It’s close
The door
The way out
Hear him still behind me
I reach up
The powder-blue crown still affixed to me
Run faster
The door is more in view
Close
Closer
(Shift.)
GABRIELLE and NATE. BOOM
Strikes me
NATE. Again in the
GABRIELLE and NATE. Back of the head
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GABRIELLE. A rafter from the ceiling
NATE. This man
GABRIELLE. I fall to the floor
The door
So close
Our heroine, oh, she’s in trouble.
NATE and MALCOLM. BOOM —
(Shift.)
MALCOLM. But then the bed tilts. I didn’t see the thick branch
sticking out from the water’s still surface. Despite the noonday
sun I didn’t see it. The bed hits the branch on the side and the bed
tilts forward
Woosh
And I slip off and hit the water
And I remember
Just as I hit the water’s surface
I can’t swim
I can’t swim.
(Shift.)
(The sound of distorted and clipped heavy metal music played at deafening
volume, which transforms into a drone that grows in volume.)
NATE. Hello? You there?
FIGURE. Listen
NATE. Please please no more don’t hit me —
FIGURE. Don’t turn around (The sound of a gun being cocked.)
NATE. What was that — ?
FIGURE. Ten
NATE. No don’t shoot me please
GABRIELLE. Start crawling
the door
I still see it through the flames crawl
FIGURE. Nine
GABRIELLE. Flames sting me
hear the director get closer
FIGURE. Eight
MALCOLM. Falling deeper into the water
GABRIELLE. Digging my claws into the floor
pull my injured legs forward
closer close
FIGURE. Seven
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MALCOLM. I flail as my lungs fill with water
I look up and still the light on the water’s surface is clear
GABRIELLE. I feel myself begin to lose consciousness
smoke burning me with each breath
FIGURE. Six
NATE. Please
MALCOLM. I try to cry out
Mother Mother Help Me
GABRIELLE. My hand reaches the handle
with one push the door opens
MOTHER. Cisza leczy
FIGURE. Five
GABRIELLE. I look out but it’s not the freedom of daylight but
harsh florescent sting of
what is this place
a kitchen — ?
MALCOLM. My lungs feel ready to burst
on the surface above
is it a face?
FIGURE. Four
NATE. Please don’t kill me
FIGURE. Three
GABRIELLE and MALCOLM. I hear a voice
GABRIELLE. Who is it? the director?
MALCOLM. Someone to rescue me?
RESCUE WORKER. Gimme your hand!
GABRIELLE. I walk into the kitchen where they are waiting for me
NATE. Please just let me explain
FIGURE. I said don’t turn around
MALCOLM. The surface of the water fades
This feeling like a punch in the back
But I can see her reaching out to me, a woman in a helicopter
RESCUE WORKER. Gimme your hand, Malcolm!
MALCOLM. The sounds
NATE. If I could just open my eyes and
FIGURE. Two
GABRIELLE. What is this place? Who are these people?
NATE. Nate wake up this isn’t real you are at the school
GABRIELLE. A man
a girl
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a table set for dinner
MALCOLM. Please must reach her this woman can save me
NATE. please Please don’t kill me
GABRIELLE. Please I cannot face them
FIGURE. One
NATE, MALCOLM, and GABRIELLE. No — (The sound of the
drone grows deafening. Black.)
TWO: JOURNEY
Dark.
MALCOLM. Falling deeper into the water
I flail as my lungs fill with water
I look up and still the light on the water’s surface is clear
I try to cry out
Mother Mother Help Me
My lungs feel ready to burst
On the surface above
Is it a face?
I hear a voice
Someone to rescue me?
The surface of the water fades
This feeling like a punch in the back
But I can see her reaching out to me, a woman in a helicopter
The sounds
Please must reach her this woman can save me
And just before I black out
My last ounce of strength
I pull my arm up and the woman, my savior, in the helicopter, she
grabs my hand and —
DOCTOR. Mr. Tabor. (Light. The sounds of hospital equipment:
medical ventilator, heart monitor, etc.)
MALCOLM. Jesus. You, you startled me.
DOCTOR. My apologies, Mr. Tabor.
MALCOLM. You got my news?
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