Revised Aug 8
This is a fragment of a play that I wrote for a class I’m taking.
[The bedroom of ETHWIN, a large room occupied by a large bed. On the opposite side of the bed are a bedside table, and a door, an electronically controlled pocket door. The room is bare of ornament save for a kilted uniform hanging on the wall beside a shelf, and below, a pair of dress ghillies over which lay a sporran, knee socks and a pair of daggers. Beyond the end of the bed is another pocket door. The head of the bed is against the wall. In the bed, the figure of NIGEL can be made out hugging one of the pillows, and half-covered by the bedding. At the rear, the door slides open. ETHWIN, his older sister, comes in walking briskly, a mug in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other. She stops abruptly just within the room and the door slides closed behind her.]
ETHWIN: (Takes a bite of the apple, puts it on the bedside table, jiggles NIGEL ‘s hip) What are you doing in here? You have a room of your own.
NIGEL : (Opens eyes) Your bed smells nicer.
ETHWIN: (Walks to uniform and inspects it while drinking from mug) Yeah, well, maybe if you ran the room fresher once in a while, your room would smell nice too.
NIGEL : (Buries his face in the pillow) I do run the fresher.
ETHWIN: (Puts mug on shelf. Takes uniform’s jacket off hanger and looks at symbol on the arm) Buzz, sweetie. I’ve got to get ready to go to work.
NIGEL : (Pulls bedding over his head) I won’t look.
ETHWIN: (Turns to audience, shows the symbol on the jacket. She’s a police officer. She speaks sotto voce) Nigel has been so clingy late. What is his problem?
NIGEL : (Muffled) Can I go to work with you?
ETHWIN: (Takes kilt off the hanger and holds it in her hand. Again, she addresses the audience sotto voce) Has she been at it again…
NIGEL : (Muffled) Ethwin, can I?
ETHWIN: (She walks over to the bed, and sits on the edge) Maybe. I’d have to get permission first. (Rumples hair) What’s up?
NIGEL : (Muffled) Nothing.
ETHWIN: (Pulls bedding down, and kisses NIGEL’s forehead) Huh! I don’t believe you. But that’s fine. If you don’t want to talk, I won’t put a dagger to your throat. I love you no matter what.
NIGEL : (Throws pillow and bedding off, and sits up) Even if I’m a pervert?
ETHWIN: A pervert? That sounds like Temple-born goat-shite. Who did you hear this word from?
NIGEL : (Stares off) Connie. She said that Dad hates me because I’m a pervert.
ETHWIN: (Rolls eyes) That shit-wit. Are we superstitious Templars to believe the maunderings of a drug-addled scribe who teaches hatred and exclusion in order control stupid people? You are not a pervert. You are perfectly normal, and normally perfect.
NIGEL : (Leaps out of bed, pulls ETHWIN to her feet, and hugs her) Is it perverted to get stiffies all the time?
ETHWIN: (Pushes him away gently) I would be worried about you if you didn’t. Your hormones are raging and your lingam doesn’t know if he’s coming or going.
NIGEL : (Slumps down on bed) So is it perverted if I want to spend time with someone who… makes me have stiffies?
ETHWIN: (Sotto voce) Does he mean…? (Normal voice) It depends. If it’s someone your own age that you like, not at all. But if you think someone is a pervert, it’s probably better to stay away from her… or him. Someone like that might take advantage of your hormones. On the other hand, maybe, if you thought you should… Go tell …. Mum. Yes, tell Mum. Mum would… fix things.
NIGEL : (Sadly) I think you’re right. If I know someone is a pervert, I should stay away…
ETHWIN: (Picks half-eaten apple off the bedside table and stares at it) Yes. Mum should fix things.
NIGEL : (Jumps up.) I’ve gotta go. (Sotto voce) I knew Ethwin would understand.
[NIGEL leaves room.]
ETHWIN: (Changes into uniform. Stands before the door, hefting the daggers in her hands, mimes stabbing) Mum won’t do anything… She didn’t before… (She puts the daggers in their sheaths at her knees decisively) It’s up to me…
[ETHWIN leaves room.]