deadstock final rehearsal script€¦ · pastures bereft of cattle. unworked, unvisited. the barn,...
TRANSCRIPT
DEADSTOCK A play by Steven Dykes
© Steven Dykes 2005
1
CHARACTERS
Allen, a veterinarian (American).
Myrrah, the farmer’s daughter (English).
Ondriy, a migrant worker (Ukrainian).
TIME
The first anniversary of the outbreak of pestilence.
April becoming May.
PLACE
A farm in rural England. It could be North, it could be West.
Myrrah, the only native in the play, has had her regional accent ‘improved’ by a private education.
SETTING.
The musty interior of a disused barn.
Disused in the sense that it no longer fulfils its function, standing as it does on farm land left untended. Pastures bereft of cattle. Unworked, unvisited. The barn, like the milking parlour and surrounding outhouses, now a mausoleum. A farmer’s dereliction.
Amidst the detritus of farming equipment - the rusting machinery partly hidden beneath mildewed tarpaulin - stand several incongruous items of household furniture and personal belongings. A welsh dresser, its shelves decorated with lines of dolls, teddy bears, toy animals. An overstuffed armchair, book laden. A vast wooden trunk containing a man’s winter wardrobe: well worn suits, jackets, sweaters etc. Stacks of books, old magazines, vinyl record sleeves, photograph albums. A child’s rocking horse, perhaps.
PUNCTUATION
A separate line within a speech indicates a new thought or the refining of a previous thought. A pause, hesitation or unspoken thought is indicated thus …
2
SCENE ONE.
Early afternoon.
Sunlight makes an effort to flood between rafters and the open barn door.
The setting might appear almost idyllic: a regular bucolic. It might.
ALLEN enters, cautiously.
He surveys the barn. The sight makes him uneasy. He moves carefully among the bric-a-brac, alighting on and gingerly touching those items transplanted from the house since his last visit. The impression is of a man in a fusty museum after dark; a man who senses that he may not be entirely alone.
Atop a fence post in a distant field, a crow caws. Allen, surprised at the bird’s vehemence, accidentally kicks and topples a stack of books. As he moves to repair the damage, a hardback in a plastic cover catches his attention. He hunkers down, reads the spine, opens it; then the next in the pile, a third, and so on.
MYRRAH enters quietly, unseen. She carries a laundry basket, more odds and sods.
She starts when she sees him, but he remains engrossed in his study. Quietly putting down her load, she selects from it a stuffed toy animal. A cow. Myrrah whispers in the cow’s ear. The cow looks at her, nods its head. Myrrah and the cow approach Allen stealthily. The cow looks at Allen, then back at Myrrah. Myrrah nods. The cow turns back to Allen and emits a ‘moo’.
Allen turns, sees the cow looking at him, is suitably startled.
Allen. Jesus!
Myrrah and the cow watch Allen as he collects himself.
Jesus. Myrrah. I didn’t hear you come in.
The cow studies him. Moos again.
That’s ... that’s very ... ha, good one.
3
Myrrah smiles, places the cow on the dresser, returns to the basket and begins to ‘exhibit’ the contents on various shelves. Allen watches her for a moment.
I didn’t get an answer at the house.
...
Must not have heard me, huh?
...
Walked up.
From Sidells.
Beautiful day.
Thought I’d ... The exercise, you know.
Myrrah continues with her task. Allen indicates the ‘collection’.
There’s more.
Than there was.
Last time I called.
A lot more ... out here.
...
So.
...
You’re well?
She shrugs, smiles: why wouldn’t I be?
You look well.
4
He watches her go about her business.
Myrrah, look, I wanted to -
She pays attention. It throws him.
Ha.
Yeah.
Wanted to see you is all.
They stand, a distance apart. She smiles. He is flummoxed.
See how you were.
She smiles, nods. Returns to shelving the toys. He sighs and turns back to the books.
You know, it’s curious. I was just –
When you came in, I was just –
He indicates the books.
These. They’re not your father’s.
I’m not sure if you knew. But they aren’t.
No, they’re library books.
Myrrah looks up.
5
From the library. In town. I wondered if you knew.
They were here, among the others, and there was a title leapt out at me.
Um.
Here it is: “Saunders Comprehensive Veterinary Dictionary.”
Myrrah is listening intently now.
You can see why it caught my eye.
And this one: some handbook on veterinary drugs.
No. Sorry. “The Complete Handbook of Veterinary Drugs.”
She moves to him, he hands her a book. She leafs through.
Guess he didn’t want the guys from the Ministry blinding him with science.
Though how this would help ...
Myrrah reads. Allen leafs.
He knew the basics anyway. The important stuff.
Clutching at straws, I suppose.
Literally. At straw.
...
Overdue now, of course.
A year, almost.
He reads the title of another.
6
“European Union Law.” Second edition.
She looks at him. He nods, non-plussed.
Couple like that.
Reads another title.
“Understanding the Law.”
By someone called Blessing.
Mixed, I’m guessing.
He reads another title.
“The Self Help Guide to Managing Death and Probate.”
They look at each other. He reads the book’s subtitle.
“How to Manage The Legal and Financial Side of Death Yourself.”
Self-sufficiency in all things, I guess.
What he’d have said, right?
Myrrah smiles, tightly.
I’m sorry, Myrrah. Truly.
7
She shrugs, moves and collects the library books together.
He watches her. Considers, then ...
Say, Myrrah, here’s the thing.
I thought we might take a walk together.
Little stroll. You and me.
Whaddyasay?
...
Just down to Sidells. Walk me back down. Huh?
He moves to her.
I’m parked down there. I could take you some place.
A drive. Somewhere nice.
Closer to her, quieter.
Walk with me, Myrrah.
It really is a glorious day.
Beautiful day, beautiful girl.
He moves to touch her. She moves away.
Ok.
...
Can I ask why not?
8
Huh?
Would you tell me? Please.
One good reason why not.
She looks at him.
Myrrah. They’re late.
Allen. I’m sorry what?
...
What, the books?
Myrrah. They’re late.
Allen. You’re serious.
They look at each other. Finally, he shakes his head, surrenders.
Sure. You better ...
Myrrah nods.
I’m up this way again, couple of days.
Can I look in on you then?
Myrrah smiles, then, clasping the books to her, goes.
Allen watches her leave, then curses, kicks out at another pile of books.
They scatter. He repents, bends to retrieve them.
A crow caws from afar.
9
The sun behind a cloud, the barn is of a sudden darker, unquiet.
Allen looks up. Stands. Calls into shadows.
Who’s there?
...
Hey.
Are you there?
...
Who is it?
Hey.
The crow’s caw again, drawing near. Then darkness.
In darkness, the sound of an ancient land-drover.
The engine lurching into life, ticking over. A predator, lying in wait.
*
SCENE TWO.
Hours later. Night.
From the shadows, a woman’s breath. It fills the barn like unlit gas does an oven.
A match is struck. MYRRHA’s face. The light from the match flickers in her trembling hand.
The flame from the kerosene lamp she lights illuminates the barn. Still more shadows.
Myrrha appears for a moment wildly uncertain. Words, under her breath, a litany.
Myrrah. … fire and moon … light the fire… watch the flames … the sun … that’s right.
10
Looks about her, unseeing, then down at her hands: blood. She stares fascinated.
… from the earth …. blood from the earth … that’s right, yes …
Then resorts to a bucket of rainwater, plunges in her hands. Scrubs at them, at her face.
… cleansed by fire …. blood from earth … clean in the light …. born in flame …
Suddenly she is still. Her body tense, cat-like, arching to hear. Only silence.
… the cycle … the cycle, complete … what next, what next …?
Now galvanised, she looks about her, wiping her hands distractedly on her clothing. She turns and scrambles upwards to the eaves of the barn, where hang various lengths of rope, like cobwebbed entrails. Yanking madly at a length of cord, she tumbles backwards when it too readily gives way. She lies, stunned by the fall and her own stupidity, breathing hard once more. Laughter builds furiously inside her; its lunatic release unnerving in the night. When it threatens to dissolve in tears, she frames herself; gets to her feet, steadies herself, searches for and dons a pair of farm hand’s gloves, enormous on her. The litany continues.
… build the pyre, watch the flames … moon welcomes the sun …. that’s right, that’s right.
She moves off, determinedly, winding the length of cord as she goes.
Quiet. Human activity is replaced by the un-urgent sounds of a country night.
Then Myrrha’s breath once more, a fierce struggle. She drags on the body of a MAN, his hands tied with the cord. This does not make Myrrha’s lifting him from under his arms – her hands clasped against his chest - any easier and she stumbles in her attempt, falling backwards, the man’s weight upon her. Her frustration reaches a kind of ecstasy as she repeatedly fails to move the body any great distance. A sobbing, keening fury envelopes her. Finally she screams, pushing the body from her. She is filthy, soaked with sweat, spattered again with blood from the man’s head wound. Slowly she crawls to her feet. Winces at the pain in her back. Disappears into the shadows. A metallic scraping is heard.
11
Myrrah emerges from the dark, she carries a roll of metal chain. She hurls it, crashing to earth. It lies beside the man’s body. Myrrah stands, fixed. A low moan comes from the man. Slowly, Myrrah pulls off the gloves. She lowers herself towards the ground. She sniffs at, then nuzzles the body, moaning softly in reply. She lies with her head on the man’s chest, one leg astride his torso. Her body shudders with his.
...
Black. In the darkness, the lowing of cattle.
*
SCENE THREE.
Afternoon. A day or two later.
Allen stands. Myrrah sits, distracted.
Allen. Myrrah?
...
Myrrah?
From her reverie.
Myrrah. Hm?
Allen. I asked you how?
She looks at him.
How did you get there?
Myrrah. Oh.
…
12
Where?
Allen. Town.
Myrrah. Oh.
Yes.
...
Allen. Well?
Myrrah. In The Beast, of course.
Allen. You’re kidding me.
Myrrah. What?
Allen. The Beast.
Myrrah. You find that odd?
Allen. Just a tad.
Myrrah. Why?
Allen. That you got it to start! That there’s enough gas in the damn thing!
Myrrah. Gas.
Allen. You haven’t set foot outside the yard in weeks.
Myrrah. No.
Allen. And you expect me to believe you drove that piece of junk all the way into town.
Myrrah. Yes.
Allen. And back.
Myrrah. That’s right.
Allen. To return your Dad’s library books.
Myrrah. They were overdue.
Allen. You’re really something, you know that, Myrrah?
...
Waited ‘til I’d gone, I notice. To head off on your little adventure.
13
Myrrah. I didn’t realise I needed your permission.
Allen. That’s not what I mean.
Myrrah. I did tell you.
Allen. I didn’t think you were actually serious. I thought it was an excuse.
Myrrah. Excuse?
Allen. Yeah, some lame excuse you invented, to get out of ...
Myrrah. What?
Allen. Does it matter?
Myrrah. Allen.
Allen. Yes.
Myrrah. Do you imagine I simply sit here all day?
He looks at her.
Allen. Well, yes.
Frankly.
Yes, that’s exactly what I imagine, Myrrah.
That’s - yeah, it is - that’s precisely the image I conjure, in fact, when I think about you.
Which is way too fucking often by the way. A beautiful girl on her own in the dark, sitting alone in the ruins.
Myrrah. Pining away.
Allen. Something like that.
...
Something like that, yeah.
...
You mind telling me what’s so special about a couple of overdue library books? Huh?
14
Myrrah shrugs.
Myrrah. I just wanted them ... back where they belonged.
To take them home, I suppose.
Silly of me.
She shivers.
Allen. You ok?
Myrrah. Be getting dark soon.
Allen. Myrrah, it’s the middle of the afternoon.
Myrrah. It’s much later than that.
She looks at him. He studies her, curious.
No, you’re right.
Yes.
He watches her for a while.
Allen. Did you see anyone?
Myrrah. Where?
Allen. In town.
Myrrah. Who?
Allen. To talk to. Did you see anyone to talk to?
Myrrah. When?
15
Allen. When you were in town.
Myrrah. Oh.
Allen. I thought you might have met someone. The market or -
Myrrah. Why?
Allen. I don’t know. To ... It’s what people do, Myrrah!
He sighs, moves away, in an effort to control his frustration. Silence.
Myrrah. There wasn’t anyone.
It was all quite empty.
The woman was about to close up when I got there.
This old lady behind the desk. Alone in the ruins.
They share a look.
Actually, there may have been someone in the back I didn’t see.
She looked up Dad’s details. On the computer there.
Wouldn’t let me pay the fine. Said there’d been an amnesty.
They were happy just to have the books returned.
...
It was spitting when I came back out.
I sat in the car park. It was … you know, spattering on the roof.
Thought about that old librarian’s fingers. Tapping lightly on the keys.
…
I sat there.
Watched a boy stacking trolleys in the rain.
16
Til the supermarket closed.
They sit in silence. In the distance, a crow caws.
Allen.
Allen. Uh-huh.
Myrrah. Allen, I hit something.
He turns to her.
Coming back. This side of Crossfields.
I hit something.
She looks at him.
Allen. What, like a fox?
Myrrah. No.
Bigger.
...
Allen. Well, are you ok?
There any damage? Christ, Myrrah, you gotta be more careful. There’s a reason your Dad called that rust bucket The Beast, you know. Thing has a mind of its own. Are you listening to me?
Myrrah. I’m listening.
Allen. God knows how much road kill you’ll have left in your tracks.
Gonna seriously hurt yourself one of these days, be left stranded up here, no help for miles.
17
Myrrah has moved towards the rear of the barn. She pulls back a sheet of tarpaulin. Revealed is the man (ONDRIY), crouched. There is a makeshift collar padlocked around his neck. From the collar a chain leads to the wall, where it is further secured. The man’s hands remain tied by the cord. He wears a blindfold, is gagged. He flinches, exposed, unsure of his captor’s intentions. Myrrah stands watching Allen.
Myrrah. Wasn’t a fox, Allen.
Allen. Jesus. Myrrah.
Myrrah. A wolf, perhaps?
Allen. Fuck.
Myrrah. Perhaps, a wolf.
Allen. What have you done?
Myrrah. Do you ever wonder, Allen?
Allen. Holy shit.
Myrrah. What they think of us?
Allen. What, who?
Myrrah. Cattle.
Pigs.
Goats.
Allen. Goats?
Myrrah. The animals we tend, the animals you treat.
After all, to them we’re surely just one of the litter, another number in the herd.
Perhaps they look at us as one of them. Only difference is, of course, they know we’ve lost our reason. Our animal good sense. We’re one of them, gone mad. That’s us.
The laughing animal, the weeping animal, the reckless, feckless, the insane ...
That’s us all right. Poor, unhappy animals.
She pulls the blindfold carefully from the man. He winces in the light.
18
Allen. Myrrah.
Myrrah. Easy.
She touches the man’s head, the wound, tenderly.
You’ll want to look at this, Allen. There was quite a bit of blood.
Allen fails to respond.
They say ... Have you heard the expression? They say the dust clings to the air. When a stranger’s about. They say the air ... thickens. You can sense it.
She sniffs softly at the man’s hair. Her head against his.
Allen. This is ...
Myrrah. Taste it too.
Allen. (quiet) Don’t.
Myrrah. He’s still weak.
Allen. (quiet) Don’t touch him.
Myrrah. Must be thirsty.
Allen. Stop it..
Myrrah. What?
Allen. Just move!
Myrrah. Allen?
Allen. Get the fuck away, dammit! Now!
19
Myrrah and her captive both flinch. She moves from him. Allen tries to collect himself.
Jesus.
Allen and Myrrah stand a distance apart. She watches him. In the silence, the man begins to speak, muffled by the gag. Allen and Myrrah study him for a moment. Incoherent noise. The man exhausts himself. Allen turns to Myrrah.
This side of Crossfields you say?
Myrrah. The turn off.
Allen. And he ...?
Myrrah. Was just there.
Allen. There?
Myrrah. In the road.
Allen. Out of nowhere.
Myrrah. Out of nowhere.
Allen. Walking.
Myrrah. Walking.
Allen. A rambler.
Myrrah. A rambler. A rambler out rambling, yes.
Allen. A rambler out rambling. In the middle of the road, in the middle of the night?
Myrrah. Not the middle.
Allen. What?
Myrrah. Not the middle, it was late, but not the middle of the night, no, I wouldn’t say that.
Allen. He doesn’t look like a rambler, Myrrah.
Myrrah. He doesn’t?
20
Allen. No.
Myrrah. What does he look like?
Allen. I don’t know what he looks like, Myrrah, but he sure as hell doesn’t look like a fucking rambler!
...
What was he wearing?
Myrrah. When?
Allen. When you ran him down.
Myrrah. Ran him down’s a bit strong, Allen. A glancing blow, that’s all.
Allen. You knock him out?
…
Did you knock him out?
Myrrah. I think so.
Allen. He was unconscious?
Myrrah. Yes.
Allen. You’re sure?
Myrrah. I’m - yes.
Allen. When did he come round?
Myrrah. This morning.
Allen. Then how did you get him up here?
Myrrah. I invited him back for coffee.
What do you think, Allen? I dragged him.
Allen. How?
Myrrah. How? Like I dragged everything out here.
Allen. But from Crossfields?
Myrrah. The back of The Beast.
21
Allen. Right.
...
Ok, has he said anything?
They look at each other.
What?
Myrrah. Nothing I could understand.
Allen approaches the man.
What are you doing?
Allen. I’m going to ask him.
Myrrah. Right.
What?
Allen. Who the hell he is.
Myrrah. Right.
Yes.
Allen hesitates.
Allen.
Allen. Yes.
Myrrah. What if we don’t want to know who he is?
...
I mean, what if we don’t care?
22
They look at each other.
Allen. He’s a human being, Myrrah.
Myrrah. Yes.
Well, yes. Of course.
But still.
What if?
Allen. What if what?
Myrrah. We don’t feel sorry.
...
Because I’m not, you see. I’m not sorry.
They look at each other. Alan hesitates.
Allen. You could have left him out there.
Myrrah. Yes.
Allen. You didn’t.
Myrrah. No.
Allen. That means something surely?
Myrrah. I said I wasn’t sorry. I didn’t say I wasn’t ... involved.
Allen. He’s in pain, Myrrah.
Myrrah. I mean, I am.
Allen. We should ...
Myrrah. I am involved.
Allen. I’m going to take this off, ok?
Myrrah. I’m just not sorry.
23
Allen. Ok?
...
Myrrah. Ok.
Allen approaches the man, again hesitates.
Allen.
Allen. Yes.
Myrrah. Are you serious?
He looks at her.
Are you?
Allen. Yes, Myrrah. I’m serious. You know I am.
...
Myrrah. Right.
Yes.
Good.
She nods. Allen slowly begins to removes the gag.
Once free of the restriction, the man coughs violently. Retches several times.
Allen. You’d better fetch some water.
Myrrah. Yes.
Myrrah moves off, turns back.
24
Allen.
The chain, it’s padlocked.
Allen. I understand.
Myrrah. The key.
Allen. Yes.
Myrrah. You’d never find it.
Allen. Yes, Myrrah. I understand.
Go on.
She hesitates, then leaves Allen alone with the man. A distance. Allen holds the gag. The man crouches, breathing uneasily, pained.
Ondriy. Ya ne twaryna. Ya lyudyna.
Ya ne twoiya twaryna.
Ya ne monstr. Ya lyudyna.
Ya hochu pyty. Ya pomyrayu wid spragy, suchi ty synu.
...
Water. I need water.
Allen. Water?
Water, yes.
It’s coming. From the house.
...
Ondriy. Your wife?
Allen. What?
Ondriy. Is your wife?
Allen. My wife? No, she’s ...
25
No.
Ondriy. Ok.
They look at each other. Ondriy manages a smile. Allen doesn’t.
You kill me now?
Allen. Kill you?
...
She panicked. My friend panicked.
She’s been through a real tough couple of months and ...
That’s all.
They look at each other.
Ondriy. So.
You let me go?
Allen. Of course.
Yeah.
Sure.
No problem.
Neither moves.
Ondriy. Ya wbyu was obo, jak tilki ya do was doberusya, suchi vy dity.
Allen. I’m sorry, I don’t ... What is that? Russian?
Ondriy. No.
26
...
Allen. Well, whatever it is, I don’t speak it.
They wait in silence.
Huh.
Hear that?
It’s raining.
...
Fine this morning, showers now.
...
I love it. Days like these. The air. You know?
...
I’m a foreigner here myself.
A year now.
You?
Ondriy. Me?
Allen. How long have you been in the country?
...
Ondriy. Too long.
Allen. Yeah. Doesn’t look it’s best up here at the moment. I’ll grant you that. Takes time and energy to maintain pasture. You might even say love.
And that’s been in pretty short supply this last year.
Without it, of course, fields go back to nettle and dock. Doesn’t take long for wilderness to win out. Grassland needs managing. And who’s here to manage it?
...
27
Same with the village. People move away. Shop’s gone. School’s struggling. Pub next.
Seventeen familes in these parts alone. Just disappeared over night.
I mean, sure, you got compensation money coming in and some restocked in the Fall. But way too late. Couldn’t get the ewes to the ram in time. Reason why it’s so quiet on the drive up.
Did you notice? On your travels?
No lambs in the fields.
Hardly Spring without them, is it?
...
This place too.
Dairy farm it was. Hundred acres.
Little old farm on a hill.
Nothing left now.
No herd.
No farmer.
Ondriy. Lyudy vtratyly pochuttya lyubovi do swoyeyi zemli.
Allen. ‘Scuse me?
Ondriy. I say: no love.
They look at each other.
Myrrah enters, carrying a large jug of water and a large bowl.
Myrrah. How is he?
Allen. You’re wet.
Myrrah. It’s raining.
Allen. You’ll catch your death.
28
Myrrah. Yes.
Myrrah places the bowl on the ground, a distance from the man. She fills it. Ondriy watches the arc of water. Myrrah steps aside.
Myrrah. There.
Ondriy looks from the bowl to Myrrah, then Allen. Considers.
Ondriy. Spasybi.
He begins a slow crawl, hindered by his roped hands. The chain around his neck extends just long enough to allow him to reach the bowl on all fours. The metal clank of chain resounds in the barn. Ondriy has no choice but to drink from the bowl like a dog. Once his initial thirst is sated, Myrrah kneels and joins him at the bowl. She laps. He looks at her. She looks up. He spits a mouthful of water in her face.
Ondriy. Ya ne twoiya sobachka.
Myrrah sits back slowly. Her eyes do not leave Ondriy’s.
Myrrah. Allen.
In the trunk. Dad’s suit.
Allen. Which?
Myrrah. Any.
Jacket pocket, they’ll be a handkerchief.
...
You find it?
29
Allen. Here.
He hands it to her. A neatly folded man’s handkerchief. She flaps it open. Holds it to her face and takes in the scent for along moment. Ondriy and Allen watch as she dabs the handkerchief in the bowl. She moves tentatively towards Ondriy, offers her hand. He allows her to wipe the dried blood from his wound. The gentle sound of trickling water, as she tends to him.
Myrrah. Daddy would dress up when he visited. Clean handkerchief in his pocket.
Always felt self-conscious in the city.
Hid his hands.
Such a big man. You should have seen him. Sat there on that tiny bed.
My digs at college. Hardly room for the two of us.
I bought him the cologne, Christmas present.
He eked it out for years.
I find there’s less and less now smells of him.
Myrrah and Ondriy share a look. Suddenly, Ondriy lashes out. Myrrah evades him, just. He makes a furious attempt to break his bonds. Allen moves to restrain him, but Ondriy pushes him violently aside.
Ondriy. Do chorta was usih!
Do bisa washi istoriyi!
Tu dumayesh ty odna takar?
Ydit do chorta! Ydit usi do chorta! Wy bozhewil’ni!
Widpustit mene, suchi wy dity! Ya propasha lyudyna!
Bozhe, dopomozhy meni, vryatuy mene, Bzohe! Proshu tebe ...
He has exhausted himself. Collapses. All three are prone, breathing hard.
30
Silence. Outside, the rain falls.
Allen. Myrrah, you ok?
Allen crawls to where Myrrah lies.
Myrrah?
She sits up, intense, excited.
Myrrah. When the divine feminine meets the divine masculine, a third form is created.
Allen. What?
Myrrah. A third form. You can call it consciousness or rebirth or the dawn of a new season, whatever.
Allen. I don’t -.
Myrrah. The point is it’s a union.
Allen. Union?
Myrrah. Between The Mother and her young horned God.
Allen. Woah, what?
Myrrah. Joined together in sacrifice.
Allen. Hold on, wait a second.
Myrrah. The health of the herd is the health of the earth.
The life of the herd is the life of the earth.
You see?
This is our chance, Allen.
Allen. To do what?
31
Myrrah. To put things right, of course.
A Self Help Guide to Managing Death.
Big smile.
And Life, of course.
Black. In the darkness, rain and the distant rumble of thunder.
*
SCENE FOUR
Evening. Ondriy lies in a similar position.
Myrrah is close by. She holds the toy cow. The cow studies Ondriy. He stirs. Realises his hands are free. Turns to find Myrrah and the cow looking at him. He rubs at his wrists, looks about, as if taking in his surroundings for the first time. Views the shelves of dolls, toys etc.
Ondriy. Where is ... Allen?
Myrrah smiles.
Myrrah. Allen. Is making dinner.
Ondriy. Food?
Myrrah. Won’t be long.
...
Ondriy. What is this place?
32
Myrrah. My father’s.
Ondriy nods, points to the shelves.
Children?
Myrrah. Me.
They’re mine.
He kept them.
I’m ... re-decorating.
Ondriy. What?
Myrrah shakes her head. Ondriy pulls at his collar.
You have cigarette?
Myrrah. Sorry.
Ondriy. ‘S ok.
He points.
You like ... koriu? ... yes?
Myrrah. Cows?
Ondriy. Cows, yes.
Myrrah. I like cows, yes.
Ondriy nods to himself.
33
Ondriy. Dojarnya.
Milk, here, yes?
Myrrah. Once.
He rubs at the collar again. At his head.
Ondriy. Ya pochuvayusya, nache meni vidtyaly golovu.
My head, yes? Like this ... sokyra?
He mimes the chopping motion of an axe.
Myrrah. An axe.
Ondriy. Axe, yes. Sokyra. My head with axe.
I have no head.
Myrrah. Yes.
Ondriy. Maybe it is good. No head.
He taps his head.
No head: maybe no fear?
Myrrah. Maybe.
...
Ondriy. Is night?
Myrrah. Soon.
Ondriy. Ok. Good.
Myrrah. You prefer the dark?
34
Ondriy. Dark, yes. To hide.
Myrrah. That what you were you doing?
Ondriy. Doing?
Myrrah. Out here. The back lanes at night.
Ondriy. Is ok, I am farmer.
Myrrah. Farmer?
Ondriy. In my country, yes. I have farm. One day, sure, why not?
Myrrah. Ok.
Ondriy. Your father is dead.
...
Your mother?
Myrrah. When I was little.
Ondriy. Brothers, sisters?
Myrrah shakes her head.
You and your father is all?
Myrrah. It’s all.
...
Ondriy. I have family. Many.
Myrrah. You send them money.
Ondriy. I try.
He shrugs.
Myrrah. Not much work here.
35
Ondriy. No.
The man ... gangmaster, you understand?
Myrrah. Gangmaster.
Ondriy. The boss, yes.
He sends us here. Ten men. But I think this is ... ah ...
zhorstokyi zhart ...?
He mimes joke.
Ha, ha, ha.
Big ... you know ... ha, ha, ha.
Myrrah. Laugh?
Ondriy. No laugh.
Myrrah. Joke?
Ondriy. Joke, yes.
Big joke for him, yes.
The police come. My paper, visa yes? Is no good. We run. Hide in woods.
One here, one there. Like this. All gone.
No one comes. No one. Gangmaster, workers, nothing.
No people. I am ... ah ... Ya zablukaw ...?
Myrrah. Alone.
Ondriy. Yes.
Night come, I walk. Many nights. At day, I hide.
One night, you come. Buum!
Now I am here.
36
His fingers trace his head wound. Myrrah watches him.
You have ... disease, yes.
Myrrah. Disease?
Ondriy. You know this word: disease?
...
Big disease. No cows.
Myrrah. Yes.
Ondriy. Dead.
Myrrah. That’s right.
Ondriy. All.
Myrrah. That’s right.
Ondriy. We say: chuma.
Myrrah. (echoes) Chuma.
Ondriy. Chuma, yes.
Plague.
There is a stillness between them. He stretches. Begins to pull at his clothing, unbuttoning.
Myrrah. What are you doing?
Ondriy. My back. Bad pain.
Look.
He lifts his shirt and vest to reveal extensive bruising.
Chort, bolyache.
37
He winces, moves his body to display the marks.
You see this?
Myrrah nods.
Is not good, huh?
Myrrah. No.
Ondriy. Is very bad, I think.
Is pain. Here.
Myrrah. Me too.
Ondriy. What?
Myrrah. Bruises. I have them too.
Ondriy. Yes?
Myrrah nods. He looks at her.
Show me.
...
Myrrah.
...
Pokazhy meni, de tobi bolyt’.
...
Show me your pain.
They stare at each other. Silence, save the rain.
38
Myrrah removes her sweater. Stands. Slowly unbuttons her shirt. He watches as she opens her shirt to reveal bruising to her ribs and stomach.
Me?
I did this?
Myrrah. Not on purpose, no.
He raises a hand, gently beckons.
Ondriy. Ya hochu dotorknutysya do tebe.
Myrrah hesitates. Then moves within touching distance. Ondriy tentatively reaches up and delicately traces the marks on her body.
You feel cold.
Myrrah. Your fingers are.
Ondriy. My hands, yes.
Myrrah. Sssssh.
There.
His fingers on her skin produce a sharp intake of breath.
Ondriy. Pain?
Myrrah. A little.
Ondriy. Probach.
39
Myrrah shakes her head. His fingers trace once more. Her eyes are closing.
Dywna diwchyna. Dywna krajina..
Myrrah. Ssssh.
There.
Allen is stood, watching them. He is dwarfed by a large hooded raincoat, his face obscured. He holds a tray from the kitchen. Two covered bowls. Myrrah sees him first. Stares, as if at a ghost. Ondriy looks up at her, then across at what she sees. Silence.
Allen. I brought soup.
Myrrah comes to, moves away, buttoning her shirt. Allen doesn’t move.
All I could find.
Myrrah. Yes.
Allen. The odd can is all you have.
Myrrah. Yes, I meant to ...
Allen. Is that what you’ve been living on?
Myrrah. Allen.
Allen. Yes.
Myrrah. What are you wearing?
...
Allen. Oh.
Yes.
It was hanging on the back of the kitchen door.
40
...
It’s raining.
...
That ok?
Myrrah nods at the tray.
Myrrah. Don’t let it get cold.
Allen considers, then places the tray on the ground. He pulls back the hood of the coat.
Allen. Help yourself.
Ondriy has to crawl again, the length of the chain. He picks up a bowl. At least, with his hands free, he can eat the soup with a spoon. Some semblance of dignity restored. Allen watches Myrrah as she pulls on her sweater. He carries the second bowl over to her.
Here.
Myrrah. I’m not hungry.
Allen. Where you going?
Myrrah. There’s work needs doing.
Allen. Work?
...
Myrrah.
...
At least, take the damn coat!
41
She’s gone. Allen stands. Then turns his attention to Ondriy, who eyes the second bowl. Allen sets it on the ground. Ondriy crawls. Allen watches him eat.
Allen. You know what pithing is, my friend?
Pithing?
Ondriy pauses, spoon to his mouth.
No?
Pithing, my friend, is when you take a thin metal rod. About so. You understand?
And you take this rod and push in through the bullet hole in the head of a cow.
…
Down into the spinal cord, you see. Scrambles the brain.
So if the bolt pistol hasn’t killed old Daisy, your trusty pithing rod sure as hell will.
...
Course if the cow’s only stunned from the bolt and you leave it too long, you’re gonna have to stick it in her just as she’s coming round.
Then, as you can imagine, things can get a trifle messy.
Especially if you’ve run out of metal rods and you’re doing the job with plastic disposable ones instead.
He smiles. Ondriy studies him.
No messier than beating lambs to death with shovels, of course.
Mind you, the army told me they make pretty easy targets. You know, crawling from the wombs of their dead mothers. Not exactly a combat mission.
But then that’s the problem with lambing season. If there isn’t serum enough to go round,
42
well it’s just not possible to lethally inject them all, now is it? And you’re gonna have to slaughter the newborn along with their moms somehow. I guess shovels are as good a bet as any, huh?
...
Same with calves. Tend to hide amongst the rest of the herd. So the little devils might not be, strictly, you know, dead, before you bulldoze them into the truck. Or onto the pyre.
...
Shortage of marksmen, you see. Shortage of slaughterhouses too. And gasoline.
And vets.
Course yours truly has to be grateful for that last foul-up.
If the Ministry hadn’t put out an SOS for foreign vets, well I wouldn’t be here now, would I?
Every cloud, huh?
...
Nope, never would have found myself in this neck of the woods, wasn’t for that.
Never would have issued the order that slaughtered the herd here. And on every farm that borders it. Never would have met Myrrah’s father. Or, let’s face it, Myrrah herself. Never would have applied to stay on even after the worst. Made a life for myself here. Visited this place every chance I got. Offered my support whenever I could.
And, of course, never would have been here tonight to fetch you supper.
Me, with my access to a whole range of pharmaceutical products.
...
How’s your soup?
Allen laughs.
Relax, buddy. I’m just joshing with you.
43
Ondriy studies Allen, considers, then finishes eating.
Ondriy. You say ‘army’?
Allen. What?
Ondriy. You say army killed them. Cows.
Allen. Soldiers, yeah. Some of them.
Ondriy. Here?
Allen. No.
No, that was me.
Allen’s bravura has dissipated into a genuine sadness.
Army did the burning, though.
We’re talking numbers in the millions. That sort of scale, you gotta call in the military.
Ondriy. I was in army.
Allen. Yeah, well, you never fought a war like this.
...
You tell a farmer his life’s work is fit for nothing but the knacker’s yard. Not even that.
Just a fucking great bonfire that’s gonna block out the sky for miles around. The mother of all barbecues, smoking out every house in the county. Everywhere the stench, like posion in your lungs. In your nostrils, your clothes, your food.
And quarantine him throughout so he can’t leave his farm. Tell him no one’s allowed in. Not even his daughter.
So while she’s stuck at college, he waits for news of infection alone, hears the worst alone, watches the culling of his herd alone, and then sits in an empty farmhouse contemplating the future. Alone.
And then tell his only child it’s not her fault.
44
...
Shit, I don’t expect you to understand any of this.
Ondriy. I understand. A little.
Allen. Sure you do.
...
You know what’s crazy? In the middle of all that?
Desire.
You fathom that?
Comes mid-summer and the ‘all-clear’ is sounded. And I’m up here one day making a call. Out of courtesy, no more than that. It’s not guilt. It’s business is all.
Anyway, I make this call, and she comes to the door. Myrrah.
This is the daughter I’ve heard so much about. I mean, I’ve seen pictures, but ... you know, here she is.
And he comes up behind her - the two of them framed in the doorway - and he’s like a foot over her shoulder. Taller than me, you know.
But I look at them. And they kind of fit. They’re a couple, you know?
You can tell, the way she looks at me, suspicious as hell, it’s funny but you can tell.
No doubt about it.
This is her man.
...
And I don’t think of myself as a jealous person. I’m not, I don’t think.
Least ways, I can’t remember my being jealous. Not with women in the past.
But there was something there. Between them. In that doorway. In that moment.
And I wanted it too. I did.
That secret.
Wanted to possess it too.
...
45
Course the rest of the summer, you couldn’t keep me away.
I’m not saying I wouldn’t have applied to stay on anyway. Sense of duty and all that.
But she made me see it. Forget the slaughter and ... really see it.
The beauty in this place.
...
They say the people here do things because that’s how they’ve always done them before.
And back home, we do things because they’ve never been done before. I don’t know.
But it’s grown on me. And I find myself wanting to put the clocks back.
I guess I want “before” too.
...
I look at Myrrah and I have no clue what’s she’s thinking.
And she makes no effort whatesoever to tell me. Ha.
And in these parts they’re all like that. You can’t read them. You can’t.
One minute they appear perfectly ok. The next ...
Well, the next thing you know, they’ve gone and hanged themselves in the barn.
...
It’s the darndest thing.
He becomes aware of the coat he has on still. He sniffs at it. Ondriy watches him, Allen grows self-conscious. Deposits the coat.
You know, where I come from, the people I know, it’s regarded as a kind of moral weakness. Not to be comfortable. By which they mean, of course, rich.
Or it’s seen as evidence of a serious flaw in your character. Some social dysfunction.
Not to take advantage of the opportunities as they present themselves.
Now, to squander these God-given opportunities as a result of incompetence, as a result of one’s own greed or another’s poor advice: these offences are pardonable. But to actually
46
decline your invitation to feed at the trough, to remain aloof, indifferent, unencumbered by considerable wealth, now, that’s ... that’s ... well, it’s plain insulting is what it is.
...
And here’s Myrrah. Just sitting on all that compensation money.
...
Guess the likes of you, it’s more the hand to mouth thing, huh?
Else, why would you be here?
No other reason, far as I can see.
No reason at all.
There’s nothing for you here, my friend.
Right?
Ondriy slowly holds out his bowl.
Ondriy. Spasybi.
They look at each other.
You want: on my knees?
Allen considers, then takes the bowl.
Allen.
Allen turns back.
47
Thank you.
...
Allen. Take off your shirt.
Ondriy. Please?
Allen. Your shirt. Take it off.
I’ll take a look at those bruises.
Ondriy looks askance.
Hey, buddy, I’m the nearest you’re gonna get to a doctor round here.
He mimes taking off the shirt.
Show. Me. Where. It. Hurts.
Ondriy cautiously undresses. Removes his shirt. Allen tidies away the bowls and tray. Moves to Ondriy, lifts his vest. A check-up. Thunder rumbles.
That hurt?
Ondriy. A little.
Allen. There?
Ondriy. Yes.
Allen. Bad?
Ondriy. Bad, no.
...
Allen. There.
48
Ondriy. Yes.
Allen. A lot?
Ondriy. Is ok.
Allen. Uh-huh.
...
Ok.
Badly bruised is all. Far as I can tell.
Course, I can’t vouch for that head wound.
Ondriy. Is ok.
Allen. You’re sure?
Ondriy. I am sure, yes.
Thank you. Doctor.
There is a trace of a smile between the men. Myrrah stumbles in, drenched from the rain. She carries a drawer removed from a large tallboy, full, heavy. Allen rushes to Myrrah’s assistance.
Allen. Pete’s sake, Myrrah. Here.
He has the drawer.
What is all this stuff?
Myrrah. One more.
She turns and is gone.
Allen. Christ’s sake, woman, would you wait!
49
Allen hands the drawer to Ondriy.
Myrrah, will you hang on!
Allen follows Myrrah off. Ondriy is left holding the drawer. He waits a moment, uncertain, then puts it down. The drawer is full of papers, folders, files, accounts; the top layer wet from the rain. Ondriy removes soggy papers, ink running. He looks through the contents beneath: bank statements, old cheque books etc. One ledger has five or six sheets of loose leaf paper stuck between its pages. He pulls them out. They are a child’s brightly coloured drawings. Primitive sketches of animals. Ondriy studies them, smiling. He looks up, considers. He begins to ‘exhibit’ them, within his chained circumference, about the barn.
Myrrah returns, wetter still. Ondriy sees her but continues with his task. Myrrah pauses before moving to light the kerosene lamp. She takes matches from her trouser pocket. They fail to strike.
Myrrah. Blast.
Ondriy. What is?
Myrrah. Bloody matches.
Ondriy. Yes?
Myrrah. They’re damp.
Ondriy. Damp?
Myrrah. From the rain.
Bugger.
She throws the box petulantly aside.
Ondriy. Here.
He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and throws her a Zippo lighter. She catches it, cradles it in her palm.
50
For cigarettes.
Myrrah. Right.
...
You have anything else tucked away there?
Ondriy. Please?
Myrrah. A weapon, perhaps.
A knife.
I had any sense I’d search you.
Ondriy holds his arms wide.
Ondriy. You want to look?
...
Myrrah. What happened to your shirt?
Ondriy. I am not cold.
Myrrah. No?
Ondriy. You?
Myrrah shrugs.
Myrrah. I like it. The rain. It’s clean.
...
Ondriy. I like your pictures.
...
This is ... horse, I think? Yes?
Myrrah. Actually, I think it’s a lion.
51
Ondriy. Lion?
Myrrah. Yes, that’s supposed to be its cage. The lines.
Ondriy. Lines?
Myrrah. It’s not important.
Ondriy. For your father? Pictures for your father?
Myrrah nods.
I understand. A daughter. She loves her father.
Ondriy smiles, points to another drawing.
Ondriy. This. Like now.
He points skywards. Mimics a downpour.
Rain.
Myrrah. Sheep.
Ondriy. Sheep?
Myrrah. They’re not ... clouds, they’re ... they’re sheep.
It’s ... it’s meant to look like blades of grass. Not rain.
Ondriy. Blades of grass.
Myrrah. Yes.
Ondriy. Blade. Like knife?
Myrrah nods.
52
Like axe.
Myrrah. Sokyra.
Ondriy. Sokyra, yes. Good.
They look at each other. Ondriy makes a tentative move towards her. Myrrah flinches as Allen stumbles in with another loaded drawer.
Allen. Thought you were fixing some light.
Myrrah. Yes.
Myrrah returns to the lamp, busies herself lighting it. Allen puts down the drawer. Ondriy looks up to the eaves.
Ondriy. No light?
Allen. No electricity. Anywhere. Bill wasn’t paid.
Don’t ask. One of Myrrah’s little economies. No generator, nothing.
She’s got one lamp in the house. One in here. That’s it.
...
Pitch black out there.
Ondriy. No moon.
Allen. Not while the rain lasts.
Ondriy. No.
The lamp is lit. Silence: the three edgily aware that no one is going anywhere tonight. Myrrah moves to drag one of the drawers into the position she desires.
Allen. Here.
53
Myrrah. It’s all right.
Allen. Let me.
Myrrah. Allen. Don’t fuss.
He steps away. She drags the drawers into position. The men watch her for a moment.
Ondriy. I think circle.
Allen. What?
Ondriy. Circle. You see?
He indicates that within the barn, Myrrah is constructing a ring of furniture, drawers, books etc. He picks up a stack of books and assists Myrrah in her work. Allen watches, then joins in. All three silently engage in completing the circle. Outside the thunder rumbles on, the rain falls. Myrrah steps back. Stands in the ring’s centre. She watches as the men work. A flash of lightning. The three look up. Thunder follows. From under a cover of sacking, Myrrah reveals a dusty, wooden wine rack. The men look up. Myrrah holds out a bottle.
Myrrah. Allen.
He takes it, cautiously.
Corkscrew’s in the dresser.
...
Allen. Ok.
Allen searches for the corkscrew and opens the wine. Myrrah begins to remove her wet clothes. Ondriy shares a look with her, then turns away, hunts for drinking utensils. Myrrah replaces her sweater with one of her father’s from the trunk. It reaches her knees. She takes off her boots and trousers. Pulls a pair of her father’s woollen socks over her bare feet. Hangs her clothes up to dry. Another flash of lightning. Thunder,
54
closer still. They look up in unison. Then at each other.
Myrrah. Allen?
Allen. It’s here.
Ondriy has rustled up improvised ‘glasses’: a chipped mug, an old pewter tankard and a jam jar. Allen pours a small amount into Myrrah’s mug.
Myrrah. I’ll say when, thank you.
Allen looks at her.
Don’t be shy, Allen.
He tops her up, then Ondriy’s and his own.
Myrrah. The health of the herd is the health of the earth.
The life of the herd is the life of the earth.
We come from the earth.
At the end of our days, we return to her arms.
...
Welcome home, boys.
Myrrah drinks. The men watch her. She drains the mug. With the last mouthfuls she begins to choke, dribble, laugh. Wipes her mouth with her sleeve. Looks at the men, flirtatious.
55
Go on.
Fast.
They drink, though with less gusto than their hostess.
More.
Allen pours again. All three knock back the wine. Thunder and lightning startles them.
Allen. Whoa! That’s quite a kick.
The men are smiling too now.
Myrrah. Another.
Myrrah fetches Allen another bottle from the rack. He opens it at the dresser. Myrrah points to Ondriy.
Yan.
To Allen.
Tan.
To herself.
Tether.
56
Yes?
She counts off the fingers of her hand, rhythmically.
Yan. Tan. Tether.
Ondriy. Odyn. Dwa. Try.
Myrrah. Yes.
Yan. Tan. Tether. Mether. Pip. Keep counting.
Azar. Sazar. Akka. Cotta. Dik.
Allen. What is that?
Myrrah. Yannadik. Channadik. Tetheradik. Metheradik. Bumfit.
Alllen.Bumfit?
Myrrah. Yannabum. Channabum. Tetherabum. Metheradum. Jiggit.
Allen. That’s good, Jiggit, oh, I like that.
The second bottle is open. Allen pours. Myrrah counts each measure.
Myrrah. Yan. Tan. Thether.
Ok, Allen, you first.
Allen. Cheers.
Myrrah counts as he drinks.
Yan. Tan. Tether. Mether. Pip. Keep going.
Ondriy joins in the game with her.
57
Azar. Sazar. Akka. Cotta. Dik!
Ondriy. (simultaneous) Pja:t’. Shist’. Sim. Visim. Dewja:t’. Desiat’!
Allen turns the empty tankard upside down on his head, gasping and laughing.
Myrrah. Ok, good. Again. Go!
Myrrah starts to count again. Ondriy hurriedly drinks.
Yan. Tan. Tether. Mether. Allen!
Allen joins in as best he can.
Pip. Azar. Sazar. Akka. Cotta. Dik.
Yannadik. Channadik. Tetheradik. Metheradik. Bumfit!
Ondriy bangs the upturned jam jar on his head. He laughs with the pain from his wound. The others laugh too.
Allen. Ah, you’re too slow, man!
Ondriy. No, is good.
Allen. No, you’re like totally Bumfit!
Ondriy. (of jam jar) Is glass.
Allen. No, dude, you’re just jealous of my terracotta dick!
More laughter.
58
Myrrah. Together.
Myrrah helps them through a giggly count.
Yan. Tan. Tether. Mether. Pip. Azar. Sazar. Akka. Cotta. Dik!
...
Good.
Go.
She starts to drink. The men stumble through the count. Myrrah can not finish, laughing as she is.
More.
Allen pours.
Allen. A Yan.
And a Tan.
And a tether mether dik.
Thunderclap.
Myrrah. Go!
Allen drinks. The game is played again. Then for Ondriy. Then Myrrah. Their hysteria increases with each round, but they have a rhythm now between them. The men are confident of the count when Myrrah comes to drink again. They egg her on.
59
A loud crack of thunder climaxes Myrrah’s turn. She swallows hard, chokes, hands on knees. There is no laughter this time. The men watch her, concerned. All exuberance lost. Myrrah eventually recovers somewhat.
Allen. Myrrah?
Myrrah. Again.
Allen. You think we should maybe slow down a little?
Myrrah. No, I don’t.
Allen shrugs, fetches another bottle from the rack. He opens it without enthusiasm. Ondriy crouches.
Ondriy. Allen.
Allen. Huh?
Ondriy. You have cigarette?
Allen. That’s all we need. You burning down the frigging barn.
Thunder rumbles, moving away. Silence between the trio. Myrrah continues quietly a lyrical count.
Myrrah. Yanna ...
Channa ...
Tether ....
Mether ...
Jiggit ...
Allen. What is that anyway?
Myrrah. My father taught it me.
Allen. A nursery rhyme, huh?
60
Myrrah. It’s how you count sheep.
Allen. What, to help you sleep?
Myrrah. Traditionally. In the fields, on the hills.
Yan. Tan. Tether. Mether. Pip ...
When you get to Jiggit you pick up a stone and start again.
End of the count, total up the number of stones and multiply by twenty.
There’s your flock.
...
Jiggit. A stone is a score.
Allen pours wine.
Allen. You know, geese fly seventy per cent faster in formation than they do alone.
...
Myrrah. What?
Allen. I dunno. Thought we were sharing stuff our father’s told us.
...
Come to think of it. Might have been my high school football coach.
He slumps into the armchair. They all drink, in silence.
Myrrah. I like it because it’s old. And strange. And familiar.
You’ve no right to the words in your mouth, but still you can almost taste those stones.
It’s in the blood. In the skin and bone of things. Heather and bracken and hale on the moor.
Something worth remembering, because it’s something you can’t forget.
61
They drink in silence. Ondriy points skywards.
Ondriy. Storm.
Is gone.
...
Myrrah. My father kept me from it. The old way. Kept me from him. No, it’s true.
From his life here. As soon as he could send me away to school, he did.
My mother’s family paid the fees. Were happy to. They didn’t want me growing up out here, any more than he did. Didn’t want me talking like him, brooding like him. Wanted me away from all that. All the things they felt had killed my mother. The worry, I suppose.
This place was only truly mine at Christmas, Easter, the summer holidays.
…
Hands full of straw. Fistfuls of hair. Staring up at the eaves. Blood in my ears.
She drinks.
I’d just started back at college when Dad ...
Michaelmas Term.
True to form. He waited till I left. Put everything in order. No loose ends.
Left nothing I might possibly dirty my hands with.
...
He wrote he had trouble sleeping. Was still getting up at five thirty to milk cows he no longer had. He’d stand in the yard, listening for some sign of life. The pyres had driven even the birds away. I was well out of it. His letter said. We all were.
...
Course, now he can’t stop me from staying.
And there’s no going back.
62
She drinks. Looks over and realises Allen is asleep. She fetches her father’s raincoat and, with some tenderness, covers him with it. While she does this, Ondriy speaks quietly, a gentle refrain.
Ondriy. Ya skachyw za ridnym krayem, za nashouyu richkoyu bilya haty,
za ridnoyu pisheyu, jaku meni spivala maty.
Ya skuchyw za voleyu, za shumom witru v poli, za spiwom ptyc.
Za wsim. Ale. Wse ce zawzhdy zi mnoyu, zhyve v mojamu serci.
Myrrah turns from Allen to find Ondriy looking at her. Waiting, as she knew he would be. Ondriy shrugs.
I miss my home.
Myrrah. Yes.
While she talks, she moves to the dresser. Hidden behind a doll on a shelf, she finds a small herbal medicine bottle.
In this country people shop at supermarkets.
Yes.
And in good faith they buy their Devonshire lamb or their Hereford beef. Their ... I don’t know, their Lincolnshire pig.
Assuming, naturally enough, that this means their Sunday roast was indeed born and bred in Hereford. Or Devonshire. Or …
You understand?
She holds up her own mug and adds several drops of liquid from the medicine bottle.
What they don’t realise is: livestock’s moved around the country an awful lot these days.
63
It’s only in the last few weeks before it’s slaughtered, that the lamb or the cow or the pig finally finds itself in Hereford or Lincolnshire or Devon.
You see?
They have no home. Just a label.
Where they die, that’s where they’re from.
She drinks from her mug.
Perhaps that’s true of people too.
Where we die is where we’re from.
Who gets to say where we belong?
...
Here.
She offers to pour some ‘medicine’ into Ondriy’s glass.
Ondriy. What is?
Myrrah. Drink it.
...
It’s a remedy.
Bach Flower.
Ondriy. Please?
Myrrah. Aspen.
It allays fear.
Ondriy. Fear?
Myrrah. Helps you not feel frightened.
64
Dad swore by it.
They gave to their animals. Farmers took it too. And the slaughter teams.
Settles the nerves of the executioner. Here.
Ondriy. I have no fear.
Myrrah. Then you’ve nothing to worry about. Have you?
Ondriy nods. Myrrah pours. Ondriy drinks. They look at each other. Ondriy stands. The metal chain clanks. Allen stirs in his sleep.
Wait.
Myrrah moves quickly to the rainbucket. She lifts out a key from its depths. She approaches Ondriy. Stands close to him to unlock the padlock of the collar. She is careful to free him noiselessly from the chain. Both heed the intimacy of this action. They stand before each other, breathless.
Ondriy. Ty taka zh nebezpechna, jak lezo sokyry.
Myrrah. Tell me.
Ondriy. I say you. You are the blade.
He approaches, moves behind her. Tenterhooks. One hand gently to her waist. The other moves to her thigh. He smooths the inward curve with the palm of his hand. His mouth to her neck. Myrrah catches her breath.
Here.
You see?
The blade of an axe.
You understand?
Myrrah. Yes.
65
Ondriy. This is danger for me.
Myrrah. Yes.
It is for me too.
Ondriy. Dywna diwchyna.
Myrrah. Yes.
She moves away.
Tell me, do you know what day it is?
Ondriy. Is night.
Myrrah. Today. Today is May Day.
Ondriy. Ok.
Myrrah. May first.
Ondriy. Yes. Is good.
Myrrah. It’s very good.
Ondriy. Yes.
Myrrah. You understand this word: union?
Ondriy. Union?
Myrrah. Yes.
Ondriy. Sure. Like Soviet Union.
She laughs.
Yes?
Myrrah. Something like that.
66
Allen stirs, they turn to him, then face each other.
Poor Allen.
He works too hard.
Ondriy moves quickly to her. An urgent kiss. He takes her by the hand. Leads her into the shadows. She pulls him back into the centre.
Myrrah. No.
The circle.
Here.
Ondriy is concerned by Allen’s proximity.
Ondriy. Here?
Myrrah. Ssssh. Wait. It’s ok.
She moves and turns down the lamp. She places a wooden chair centre, then stands in the circle, only dimly lit. She removes her father’s sweater, spreads it on the ground. Looks up at Ondriy. He removes his vest.
Ondriy. Ya ne twoiya sobachka.
Myrrah. No, it’s ok. Please.
He goes to her. A kiss. They make love, as furtively as possible. Over the lovers’ shallow breath, Allen begins to snore.
Something rouses in the shadows, edging closer to watch. The flapping of wings, a bird trapped in the eaves above.
The lovers tense.
67
Ondriy. What is?
Myrrah. It’s nothing. Nothing at all.
She kisses him, fierce now. Myrrah turns her back and on her knees holds on to the chair. She encourages Ondriy to enter her from behind. The beating of wings continues. A crow’s caw sounds in the distance, fast approaching. Ondriy and Myrrah are oblivious now. The sound peaks, then subsides with the lovers. They lie, quiet as the shadows. Finally Myrrah extracts herself.
Ondriy. Ok?
…
Myrrah. Are you?
Ondriy. Cold.
Myrrah. Yes.
She watches him put on her father’s sweater. He pulls the sacking from the wine rack over him, murmurs something, settles. Myrrah pulls on her boots. Drinks from the bottle again. Counts under her breath.
Yan. Tan. Tether. Mether. Pip.
Azar. Sazar. Akka. Cotta. Dik.
Yannadik. Channadik. Tetheradik. Metheradik. Bumfit.
Yannabum. Channabum.
Tetherabum.
Metheradum.
Jiggit.
...
Coming. Ready or not.
68
She considers the sleeping shapes of the two men. Takes a final breath. Moves to the rear of the barn. She emerges with two canisters of gasoline. Places one outside the circle, unscrews the top of the other. And begins, with feline stealth, to soak the circle of paper and wood. The men stir restlessly, but fail to wake. When she has drenched the ring, she moves to the lamp and turns up the flame. She places it within easy reaching distance. Picks up the opened canister once more and splashes petrol over herself. Then Ondriy. He wakes. Allen too.
Ondriy. What? What is?
Allen. Jesus, anyone else smell gasoline?
They stare at Myrrah. She looks at them. Then splashes Ondriy once more.
Ondriy. Wy bozhewil’ni!
Allen. Myrrah, what the fuck?
Myrrah tosses the canister to one side. The men make a move, but she picks up the lamp quickly.
Myrrah. Both of you!
Don’t move!
The men freeze.
I’ll smash it. You know I will.
Allen. Myrrah?
Myrrah. I collected everything I thought would burn quickest.
Old barn like this. Wouldn’t rate anyone’s chances of getting out. Would you?
Allen. Myrrah, what the hell are you doing?
69
Myrrah. I’m celebrating May Day, Allen, what does it look like?
Allen. May Day?
Myrrah. I told you.
Allen. Told me?
Myrrah. I explained.
Allen. Told me what?
Myrrah. You have to listen, Allen. It’s important. You have a job to do.
Allen. Myrrah, would you put the lamp down, would you please just put the fucking lamp down!
Myrrah. I’m getting to that!
Ondriy. Is crazy!
Myrrah. Yes.
Ondriy. Crazy bitch.
Myrrah. Yes. Nevertheless. I need you both to listen.
Allen. You’re drunk, Myrrah. Things got outta hand, it’s ok. We can talk about it.
Myrrah. Oh, Allen, do please shut up!
She turns away in frustration, the lamp swings ominously. The men cower.
I told you, this is important. I need you to focus. All right?
Allen. All right. Yes. Ok. Whatever you say.
Myrrah. All right?
Ondriy. Yes! Ok!
Myrrah. Good.
Right.
Now, Allen. You see the canister there.
70
She indicates the unopened canister, outside the circle.
Allen. Uh-huh.
Myrrah. You’re to take it to the house.
Allen. Ok.
...
Then what?
Myrrah. Torch it.
Allen. What?
Myrrah. Torch it. The house. Take the petrol, use the lamp in the kitchen. And burn it down.
...
Do you have a problem with that?
...
Talk to me, Allen, do you have a problem with that?
Allen. Yes, Myrrah, yes I do have just a slight problem with that.
Myrrah. Why?
Allen. It’s fucking insane is why!
...
Myrrah. Do you need another drink? Would that help?
Allen. Myrrah. Listen, please.
Please, listen.
I don’t understand any of this.
Myrrah. You do, though.
Allen. No, honestly, you have me. Not a clue.
Myrrah. We need two fires, Allen. And the yard between.
71
Allen. Two fires.
Myrrah. To drive the herd through.
Allen. What herd, Myrrah?
Myrrah. Not literally, Allen. I know there’s no actual herd, I’m not bloody daft.
Allen. No, of course not.
Myrrah. It’s symbolic.
Allen. Ok.
Myrrah. We’ve completed the ring. Yes?
Allen. Yeah, ok. We did that.
Myrrah. We’ve toasted the health of the herd.
Allen. I guess.
Myrrah. And we’ve brought together the male and female form in union.
Allen. Right. Wait. What?
Myrrah. Ok, you slept through that bit.
Allen. (small, hurt) What?
Myrrah. The union. You were asleep.
Allen. You mean ... ?
Myrrah. All that remains now is the ritual lighting of fires.
Ondriy. Crazy.
Myrrah. And the sacrifice, of course.
...
Ondriy. Sacrifice?
Myrrah. Rebirth through flame.
Ondriy tugs at the now petrol-soaked sweater he wears.
72
Ondriy. Ty hochesh, shob ya prynis sebe u zhertwu?
Myrrah speaks tenderly, sincerely.
Myrrah. It’s ok.
I told you don’t be frightened. I’m here.
Ondriy. Ya ne twaryna.
Myrrah. I promise. I promise, it’s ok. We’ll be together.
I’ve thought about this. Spent the whole winter, all that time waiting.
In the cold. In the dark. Waiting for you.
Ondriy. Please.
Myrrah. You felt it too. I know it. The sun coming out.
Ondriy. Proshu tebe.
Myrrah. No, it’s for the best, believe me.
Ssssh.
...
Allen?
Allen. Huh?
Myrrah. Are you with me?
Allen. With you?
Myrrah. Tell me you understand. That you see what it is I’m trying to achieve?
Allen. Sex with a stranger?
Myrrah. The physical act is one part of it.
Allen. Pretty integral part, though, yeah?
Myrrah. Allen, please.
Allen. How come the fucking isn’t symbolic!
73
Myrrah. It completes the cycle. The Moon welcomes the Sun. A Sun born of the Moon. Yes?
Allen. If you say so, Myrrah. I just … I just don’t understand why.
Myrrah. Why what?
Allen. Why you chose him?
...
I mean christ, Myrrah.
Myrrah. Allen.
Allen. After all I’ve done.
Myrrah. Allen, I did choose you.
Allen. Bullshit!
Myrrah. I chose you to remember. To be the one who sees.
Allen. What?
Myrrah. To light the other fire and watch them both burn.
To watch me burn, Allen.
To drive between and leap the flames.
To wait for dawn and know I was right.
Allen. Oh god.
Myrrah. To live with the peace it will bring. With the life it will bring.
I did. I chose you to live.
...
Now, Allen, please.
I’m so tired.
As my friend. For all that you’ve done.
Please.
Help make it perfect.
74
...
Then I can sleep too.
He stares at her, hopelessly. Ondriy makes a sudden move, struggling desperately to remove the gasoline-soaked sweater. Myrrah turns with the lamp. All three shout simultaneously.
Allen. Myrrah, wait! Stop it, stop it, please!
Myrrah. I said: don’t move! Keep still! Keep still, I said!
Ondriy. Daughter! Daughter! I have daughter! I have fucking daughter! Please!
Ondriy holds up his hands in surrender. Myrrah hesitates.
Myrrah. What did you say?
Ondriy. Daughter …
Myrrah. What?
Ondriy. I have daughter!
Myrrah. Daughter?
Ondriy. My child! I send money. My child!
Myrrah. I don’t believe you.
Ondriy. Is little girl.
He points to the child’s drawings.
Like this.
Little girl.
75
Holds up fingers.
Akka!
Akka!
Yes?
Akka. Is young, yes.
My family!
You understand!
Silence. Myrrah stands, torn.
Myrrah. I ... I don’t ...
Ondriy. You understand.
Please.
My daughter.
...
Allen. Myrrah.
Myrrah. (a moan) No.
Allen. You heard what he said.
Myrrah. It makes no difference.
Allen. Myrrah, for pity’s sake!
Myrrah. No, Allen, no! Not for pity’s sake! No. Not pity. That’s just ... that’s just ... weakness.
That’s Daddy sending me away. That’s feeling sorry for yourself. That’s human fucking beings! It’s weak and frightened and it’s him not me, not me, not me!
I want to burn!
76
Oh God, let it all burn!
Burn away the mistakes, and the sickness and the stench!
Burn away whatever this is. This ...
She cries out, trying to curse something she can’t name. The full force of her fury again.
This … cage!
This … skin.
Myrrah’s revulsion brings her to her knees. The men watch her agony.
…
Finally Allen stands.
Allen. I’m sorry, Myrrah, but it is me.
I am weak. And right now I’m very frightened.
Myrrah. (lost) No.
Allen. And I pity him.
Myrrah. Please, Allen.
Allen. And I pity you.
Myrrah. (broken) Please ... don’t.
Allen. And I’m sorry. Really, I am. But I just can’t do what you’re asking.
Myrrah. No.
...
Allen. Give me the lamp, Myrrah.
...
Please.
77
...
Give me the lamp.
Myrrah moans, face hidden. Allen moves quickly and takes the lamp and turns out the flame. Moonlight bathes the barn. Myrrah weeps in the silence. Allen looks over at Ondriy.
Allen. You ok?
Ondriy nods.
I think ...
I think you should make yourself scarce.
Ondriy. Where I go?
Allen. Wherever you were headed before, I guess.
Ondriy considers, nods. He stands, removes the sweater. Finds his vest, shirt. Dresses. Allen spots the discarded matchbox. He stoops, picks up the matches. Looks over at Myrrah and pockets them. Ondriy is dressed.
Here.
Allen hands Ondriy the father’s raincoat. Ondriy puts it on, swamped. Allen has produced his wallet. He gives Ondriy several notes.
So.
Ondriy. Yes.
...
78
Allen. Good luck.
They look at each other.
Ondriy. Spasybi.
Ondriy pulls the hood over his head. Leaves quickly. Silence. Myrrah has recovered somewhat.
Myrrah. What time is it?
Allen. I have no idea.
He sits with her. She sniffs, laughs.
Myrrah. They say ...
Allen. Tell me.
Myrrah. They say if you bathe in the dew of a Beltane dawn your beauty will flourish all year round.
Allen. Beltane?
Myrrah. The festival of fire.
Allen. Right.
...
Myrrah.
She looks up at him.
Myrrah. Yes, Allen.
79
Allen. Will you do something for me?
Will you let me take you home?
...
Dry clothes. A warm bed.
...
As a friend. I’m asking.
Will you let me do that?
Myrrah. Yes, Allen.
Yes.
...
Allen. Ok.
Good.
He stands.
I’d better ...
I’d better find something to douse this place first.
Sawdust or soil. Something.
He searches and finds an empty bucket.
I’ll not be long.
He turns, then comes back. Picks up the unopened canister of gasoline.
You want to wait in the house?
80
Myrrah. In a minute.
Allen. You’re sure?
Myrrah. I’m sure.
Allen. Ok.
Reluctantly, Allen leaves.
…
Myrrah gradually gets to her feet. She picks up the sweater, sniffs at it, pulls it on. She moves to the centre of the circle.
Behind her, in the rear of the barn, a hooded figure lurks. Myrrah keeps her back to it.
Myrrah. Why d’you come back?
..
Did you forget something?
She reaches into her pocket and takes out Ondriy’s Zippo lighter
The flame lights her face, alone.
A whisper.
The sun coming out.
The sound of air expelled by fire, then the roar of flames.
Black.