Tattoo

 

One Act One Person Show

by Patricia Horwood

 

Stage setting :

 

Scene opens to late evening : canopy of stars above : dying embers of a bbq : lyrical  instrumental music in the background (not intended to direct emotions yet, just to set a calm idyllic scene: eg Goodbye by Getts Beats as I think this also holds a bit of foreboding). 

 

A large strong looking man; black and mature in his early 40s with tattoos on his arms / shoulders [Maynard Prince], is sitting on a big comfortable garden chair, with his feet up on a bench, holding a can of beer.  It is soft lighting but the lights gently show you his body, his tattoos and then his bare feet – how relaxed he is. 

 

Maynard swings round and sits up in his chair, puts his feet on the ground.  Maynard has a big strong voice and addresses the audience.  It is anticipatory; he needs to say something.  He speaks in a thoughtful, introspective manner.

 

Maynard:  “Can you see the stars?  This is my garden, my place called home.  Soft, warm rain fell a few minutes ago.  The bbq fizzled and our friends went home.  I let my feet feel the cool drops wash over my skin so that I can remember how it feels to have cool feet that do not ache and throb from the heat.  My wife, Anya, is saying goodnight to my princess, Rosie.  She ‘s 10 now.  She understands...  Anya won’t sleep.  It is such a perfect night.  Too perfect ........ almost ominous.  I don’t want to leave it.  I need to be here, immersed in this night......  Some moments are for new beginnings; contain a sense of what is to come, asking you to walk a fresh path.

 

Look at me – don’t focus too much, just look.  What do you see?  Who do you think I am?  Have you judged me yet?  (slight melancholy) What am I to you, now, as you are looking?  The tattoos .... my vest and beer can?  Who do you see?

 

I have done this so many times.  Each time it is the way it is.  We have a good life, but this time .... this time feels different.  My stomach is turning over, it is talking to me.  I am not sure what it is saying.  I think Anya senses it.  We push our luck don’t we ........  what more can I get out of this?  I need to give back to her now.  Sometimes it is just odds, statistics........ you push it too far and you are bound to come off badly.  I don’t like the odds any more.

 

Maynard puts down the beer and stands up.  He walks away.

 

Scene ends/lights fade out.  The night is over and it is dawn.  As the lights come back, he is walking over to a long mirror, a cupboard and a table with a chair.  On the table is a photographic bust portrait of Maynard in military dress uniform wearing medals [but the audience can’t see that yet].  

As the lights start to focus on him again he sits down on the chair wearing track suit trousers and a white vest, his arms supported on his knees.  He talks to the audience as though he is confiding in a close friend.

 

Maynard Prince:  “Anya didn’t sleep last night.  We made love and talked a bit about Christmas presents for our parents.  Stupid thing to talk about really, it’s months away.  We didn’t talk about today; we laughed over Rosie falling off her space hopper in the garden.  She came and jumped on my lap for big hugs and kisses.  Anya rubbed my back nearly all night until she dozed off this morning.  She left her hand on my back until I was so aware of it, it felt like a branding iron, imprinting forever on my skin.  Of course there is nothing there, but I can still feel it.....  Is it recriminating me? ...... It is a line, an Ariadne’s thread holding me to this place, to her.  It is a hot scar;  it does not feel light.  But still ...... it will not stop me, I shall do it again to them today.”

 

He stands up and as he does so a military drum tattoo starts: gentle military drumming.  During this Maynard goes to the cupboard and takes off his trousers and puts on his military combat trousers.  The lights show him buckling his belt.   Every movement is precise and deliberate.  Then he sits and the lights show him putting on socks and tying his shiny black boots.  He stands once again and goes to the cupboard to get his shirt.  With his back to you he takes off his vest and the drum tattoo reaches it loudest climax as a UV light focuses on his back and shows you a brilliant white sparkling handprint.   He continues then to dress and once he has put on his beret he turns to the audience.  The talking and questions now are more like internal thoughts being said out loud.  Steady and considered.

 

Lt Col Maynard Prince:  “Now what do you see?  Am I the same person you saw earlier?  Only you know who you saw.  But now, I know for sure who you see: a uniform, a British soldier.  When was the last time you had to think about who you are?  How many of you get out of bed thinking about patriotism, love and loyalty to your country?  Did you know I do... every day?  I have to know what it is to be British ..... to know what is so important I might have to die for it..........  [more slowly] Whoever you are, street to surgeon, do you know why it is so important?................  Whatever, your religion,..... colour,..... origins, .............if you are British I can tell you why......................  It is so simple..... you, are my brother..............   So when I leave later today, and hurt again Rosie and Anya, I need to know ... are you worthy ............. worthy to die for? ....................  Today, before I leave, I need to know if my life is worth anything.  I need to know because if I don’t come back, what I am doing to Rosie and Anya cannot be forgiven.  I go now to people whose identity is everything.  They fight and die to protect it.  This uniform, the British soldier, they tentatively hang on to;  we are there to save their identity from drowning.  But here, in this peace, where is your identity?  Ask yourself, at what point does a dying identity cause a war?  ............................   Who am I to you?  What do you see?  .................Perhaps you cannot say; perhaps you do not know who you really are? ......................    [quietly trailing off ] a dying identity causes war.”

 

[change of subject and change of tone – telling a friend about himself]

 

“You know, I didn’t always want to be a soldier.  I was a bit of a quiet kid at school.  Bit of a swot.  Not like some of those other white kids who just mucked around.  If I had done that my mother would have whopped my ass all the way from here to infinity (smiles).  I did all of my exams, got my A levels.  I loved science......., thought maybe I would be a scientist so went and did a degree and thought about it.  Dad wanted me to be a doctor.  Wanted to make my Dad proud; he deserved that – real worker he was.  He was bloody annoyed when I decided to go into the army.  Pure fluke you know ......... I saw a TV programme one day during the summer hols in my last year at uni about a black officer who was having his portrait painted.  I thought he was so cool; not sure of his rank then, senior like a Colonel or something more.  He wasn’t on active duty any more but the work he had done and the work he was still doing seemed worthwhile - worthy.  He was so highly thought of he was chosen to have the portrait done wearing this enormous number of medals.   I wanted to be him, be as fulfilled as I assumed he was.  He was such a calm man – humble, really amazing.   

It made such an impression on me I decided to go into the army as an officer and aim to be him:  a senior black officer in the British Army – be as cool as he was.  Collect the medals, get the ranking and live the life. (smiles at the reminiscing)   

 

[He stands up and goes to the table]

 

See this picture:  [picks up the photograph]  “This was taken at my last award ceremony.  I was promoted to Lt Col and awarded the DSO.   I look like him there – my hero that inspired me to join the army.  These ones are operational medals: Ireland, Bosnia, Iraq, Afghanistan;  this one is the Queens Commendation for Valuable Service, and this one ................ the Distinguished Service Order.  You get that for distinguished service during active operations.  There were so many attacks; we had to reduce them.  We were being bombarded; too many men going home in coffins.  I got the men on it: we did sweeps, stealth attacks, changed the monitoring – it was fantastic and the number of attacks halved.  So did the number of men being killed.   My father was so proud that day I thought he would pop his dicky bow [laughs a lovely big deep laugh – he has a big smile which lights up his face].  Yeah, I’m proud of them of course – who wouldn’t be – but it seems so long ago.  They seem a bit Disney like; almost like that photo isn’t real, isn’t me.   So much happens over time ...... so much seen and done........  Twenty years now; perhaps that is enough.  Don’t really know why I am still operational .... you can get a bit addicted to it I think.”

 

[walks to the cupboard and continues to pack his bag then belts it and ties it tightly]

 

“So.... I did that for 10 years, easily became Captain, got married to a beautiful woman with flaming red hair and had Rosie, who is now 10.  I’ve loved it all you know.  I really have enjoyed the life and everything that goes with it, but now I think, perhaps there is another life that is not operational, perhaps not even the army;  there are too many flashbacks that play like films in my head sometimes – I’d like that to end, they are like hauntings.  I think the human mind allows so much but then, like a digital camera, it gets full and fails.  I don’t want to fail.  I want to get out in good time.

 

Well, been great to have a chat before I go.”

 

Maynard picks up his heavy backpack;  concisely with finality he says ‘Goodbye’ and raises his hand in a slight wave.  The lights fade out and you hear him marching away and joining other marching. 

 

The scene ends.

 

When the lights come back on Maynard is standing in his bunk room.  He has now been posted to the area of war where it is hot, sandy and dusty such as the Gulf. 

 

This time he stands as he addresses the audience.  He is on guard now, not relaxed sitting in his chair.  He is switching to being professional and is standing upright by his bed, but he is striving to find a way to leave the last few days behind in order to take on his professional mantle.  Again the audience are his close friend and he is vulnerable:

 

Lieutenant Colonel Maynard Prince:  “Rosie cried.  She hugged and kissed and left her tears on my face.  (He tries hard not to crumple as he talks).  That was so hard; ... she doesn’t like me going off any more.  We don’t cry, me and Anya.  We smile and kiss.  We have to part with kisses and smiles; she has to bring me back home.  My days will change now, become a new normal, run into each other.  My friends are family now.  We are everything to each other.  This bunk is the new sanctuary, the new home.  I want them all to go home at the end of the tour ....... but they won’t...........................  You can become religious out here.  Pray there is a God protecting you .... your friends.  The friends that go .. leave their bodies here, in the dessert.  Does God have a special place for them ....  different to the places where someone died of a heart attack or got hit by the bus?   There should be different places.  You don’t forget your friends.  You always need them.  (reflective)”

 

[quick change to smiling and humour]

 

“Anya ...... she’s so wise... lots of fun.  You know when we got married, nearly the whole platoon came!  Not just for me, but because she is so popular; she had time for everyone; fun and kind.  She used to pull my leg that I was a bit serious but boy, she showed me how to have fun, laugh and be stupid sometimes (laughing).  Before we got married, I was home on leave one New Year, and she had always wanted to go skinny dipping on a New Year’s Day as far North in Scotland as she could get.  So, she booked a trip and we did precisely that.  We didn’t go to bed at all that night.  We stayed up drinking, partying and smiling ‘till both our jaws ached.  It was such a bright morning, and wow, what a heavenly piece of coast.  We took our clothes off and rubbed our naked bodies against each other.  We thought that if we got all worked up it would help us deal with the shock of the cold!  Well, I don’t know if it worked – we were both worked up all right but that was bloody cold.  We ran in shouting and hollering and waving our arms in the air to distract us from how cold it was then jumped on top of each other and then ran out at 100 miles an hour.  We thought we would make love to warm up but it was so bloody cold I couldn’t get John Thomas to work!  She thought that was so funny she cried with laughter.  Ran back to the hotel and made up for it there though ...  I reckon any one of that platoon would have married Anya. 

 

She always goes the extra mile.  You can rely on her completely for that.  At our wedding she didn’t want all the boys to bored; she wanted their fun spirit to infect us both so that it lasted for as many years as it could.  She plotted and planned, trying to think of things.  She wanted a “Full Monty” show done by some of the men but for a wedding I thought that was a bit much so she had to think of something else (he chuckles a bit at the madness of it).   So, in the end she insisted that every soldier, including all the officers had to get up onto the dance floor and do a rendition of the Blues Brothers “Shake your Tail Feather” , like this [he turns around and puts his hand sticking out from his bottom and demonstrates wiggling his hand and bottom].  She put the Senior ones at the back so that the video captures them shaking their asses.  She had someone from the band, stand at the front and do all the movements so they just copied him.  I cannot watch that wedding video without falling about laughing.” 

 

[change of tone – quieter, smiling, gentle]

 

Do you know the story of Ariadnes thread?  I loved it when I heard it ....  Ariadne saved Theseus from being sacrificed by giving him a ball of thread.  He used this to find his way out of the maze and escape.  Ariadne defied everyone for the love of Theseus.  She ran away with him.  I prefer the earlier version – not the one where she hanged herself and he betrayed her.  No..... the one where their love never died.  Theseus’ ship was being battered by a storm so he took his pregnant and sick wife and put her ashore to keep her safe and then he was swept out to sea.  When he finally returned he found Ariadne had died in childbirth;  he had silver and gold sculptures of her made.  So, even in death, Ariadne brought him home..... ....... back from the brink of death to her and their child........  Her thread pulled him home safely.

 

(then a change – something assertive and knowing ..)

I asked you earlier, ‘do you know who you are?’  Don’t worry ........, when the time comes, you will know.  Your own truth will come out; beware that you like it.............  I trust you though ... each time I leave.  I trust that if I am the one that does not come back, you will care for Rosie and Anya.  That you will make us matter; if I didn’t believe that, I would not be able to go....

 

[Reverts now .... intimate conversation ended – professional mantle on]

“Gotta go now.  Report for duty.  Goodbye”

 

 

Lights fade out/end of scene. 

 

 As they come back he is patrolling a dusty sandy road.  There is a waist high wall to the left side of the stage and Charlie is up ahead behind it.  He is talking to Charlie on the radio. 

 

 

Lt Col Maynard Prince:

 

‘Hey Charlie, get your head down, you’ll get yourself fucking shot.   ....... yeah, I know, bloody invincible and I also bloody know you haven’t got your head down!  How many sodding helmets does a man need?!”

 

[still on the radio]  “They surrounded the village on the border last night.  Found a store of weapons in an underground cave.  Bloody good job done that was – not a soldier was injured.....  What were you doing last night Charlie?  Lazing around in that bloody bunk of yours eh?   Staring at pictures of Ginny ...............  No, I won’t fuck off [he laughs heartily].  Anya says she is seeing Ginny at the weekend so the kiddies will get together.

 

Cmon ... I’m rabbitting and nothing coming from you....... what are you seeing up there soldier?  Lieutenant Singh is doing a reccie.  Heard reports of a rogue sniper a while ago so sent a group over to the old buildings :  have you seen anything?  I’ll let you know as soon as I have a report.  Those bloody buildings need to be levelled.....  Rebel’s paradise. ”

 

Shots are being fired – they are from one gun.  Shots are fired back from Charlie’s gun.

 

Maynard shouts an urgent alarm into his radio.  “DOWN CHARLIE – hold your fire.  Singh has located the sniper – let them deal with it - get down.  [Crackles like fireworks and rockets overhead.  He dives to the ground]  Truck hit, truck hit – hold your positions; stay down; keep your bloody heads down and wait for the all clear ”

 

More shots and radio silence.  Maynard calls into the radio “Charlie, Charlie report ...”

 

Maynard runs behind the wall.  You hear him drop to the ground.   Quietly he says, “No  ...... no not Charlie.........

 

Charlie !!!!!......  you stupid bastard!  you asshole – why didn’t you listen?  No heroes, Charlie, just lives that go home..  you stupid .................   fuck it!!!!!.” 

 

He shouts into the radio – he has an angry hysteria in his voice:  “Lieutenant Singh, did you get the sniper? ........  Then bring him here... bring him to me ..... now!”

 

Maynard has moved now to the back of the stage (a pile of uniform/clothing waiting in the corner by the wall which the lights can now focus on with Maynard standing over it) 

 

Maynard has the prisoner in front of him; “Get onto your knees ... DOWN .....”  He holds out his gun to shoot ....  he is shouting, upset and angry ...... fury emanating from him.

 

“I am going to blow his fucking brains out – look what he is doing ... he is killing us .. killing us all ..............................

 

I’m not listening to you Lieutenant ... leave me alone.  He deserves to die.  The bastard killed Charlie.  This isn’t our fucking war – it’s theirs, and we are dying.  Not our bloody identity going up the wall – it’s theirs... why should we die for it?  What the fuck are we doing here Lieutenant – what the fuck. ......?  Hot, dusty, barren land with nothing but fucking sand and rocks: useless fucking place.  Just leave me alone Singh.. walk away... this has nothing to do with you ..... just walk away and I’ll get rid of the fucking problem.  I told you to WALK AWAY LIEUTENANT !!! “

 

Maynard bends over the huddle which is the sniper and grabs his jacket and pulls it violently.  Maynard yanks his hand away....

 

“Fucking hell – the bastard is contaminated.  Singh, get away, he is contaminated.  Look, look at this on my hand.”

 

 He holds up his hand and with the UV light on it;  we can all see the shimmering white that is now on the palm of his hand being the same as the white ‘tattoo’ on his back. 

 

“What do you mean you can’t see anything?  What the fuck is that then Singh?  Eh?  What is that effing white stuff all over my hand?”

 

He wipes his hand vehemently up and down his trousers and the shimmering white is transferred onto his trousers.  “You can’t see that?  The bloody stuff is everywhere.”

 

Lt Col Maynard Prince seems to calm down – he reverts to being a professional; back to the Lt Col.  The concern for his own men now has become paramount.  He doesn’t want any of his men contaminated with chemicals so takes the prisoner himself.

 

[Radios through ] Soldier down, solider down – get help here now.  Area secured.  ”

 

“Jesus, get out of here Singh.  I need to get this tested.. make sure no-one else gets contaminated.   I’ll have to take the prisoner back to camp and put him in solitary to get him tested. [shouts at the prisoner] On your feet ... now ... walk ! ....  Lieutenant Singh , radio through and give them our location for picking up Charlie, then run on ahead... tell them I have a contaminated prisoner – unknown substance. 

 

End of scene/Lights fade out

 

Next scene :

 

Maynard talking on the radio/phone from his bunk:   “Nothing found?  Doc....  are you kidding?  That bloody white stuff was all over my hands .... my trousers.  Could it be something new ..... a secret?   No?   .......  [exasperation] fucking hell ........................... am I alright?  Of course I’m alright – I just know that bastard is up to something.”

 

Maynard is frustrated, angry and confused.  He turns to look at the trousers hanging up and the UV light clearly shows the shimmering white stuff he wiped on the side of the leg.  He is silent and staring at the trousers.  He radios back...

 

“Doc, is the prisoner injured or is he in confinement?  Confinement ..... ok.  Charlie down there with you?  ....... ok”

 

Maynard leaves.

 

End of scene

 

New scene:  He is standing on the other side of bars with a prisoner huddled on the floor.  (Pile of uniform/clothes again but you can see some of the white stuff on him). 

 

Maynard is angry but he is controlled and calm.

 

“Hey you ...  what is that stuff on my trousers, your clothes?     ....  Look, this stuff that no-one else can see.  It came off you.....  why?..  what is it?.... what fucking trick are you pulling?...............  Don’t give me that innocent shit.... it came off you.  You know what it is...  tell me......  Is it poison, some secret invisible chemical .... huh?  .........  tell me or I’ll have you shot................     Don’t shoot you?    Why the hell wouldn’t I shoot you .......  you shot us today .... every day... you shoot us...................    [incredulous] Because you have a family, a daughter ?    Are you fucking crazy? ...... [laughing loud and angry -Maynard’s voice is raising ... he is getting more angry] .......... so did Charlie, but you shot Charlie ...... he has a family and daughter too ........  Why the hell should he die in your fucking world – you are the one who should die in your own world.... not us .... NOT US!!    He is furious and kicks the metal bars.  He walks away quickly. 

 

Maynard walks over to the medical centre where Charlie is laid.  This can be in the far corner of the stage with Maynard standing with his back to the audience. 

 

“Well, Charlie mate ... you’ve gone and done it this time.  Stupid bastard........  Don’t want to let you go on your own – I want to take you back myself – carry you off that ship and walk up that road with you on my shoulder.  Don’t suppose that will be allowed.  Give me your hand you stupid sod; let’s say goodbye.  God that’s cold – let’s tuck it into your jacket.  Hey, what’s that paper?  Mind if I have look mate?   

 

“When I am buried and gone

from this war

do not look for me

seek me no more

for I am around you

in the breeze and the seeds

and I will find you

watch for your needs

and remember not the deeds I have done

for willingly I took them on

for you I have lived

and done what I must

but never will I forsake you

and fade into dust

I will live on

in your hearts and the rain

and one day

I will see you again

 

[Maynard holds the letter in his hand and weeps]

 

“Ok Charlie, I’ll see you again some time.”

 

 

End of scene

 

Maynard is now at his bunk.  He is still angry but controlled.  He is talking to the audience again – they are part of his life, his communication:   

 

[containing his anger – venting his thoughts and not speaking quickly]

“I know ............ I know that some of you know what it is like to be angry ........don’t you?  I don’t mean just any old angry, I mean engulfed, inconsolable... ruled.   You don’t have to have been to war do you?  You have had someone taken, tortured, killed ........  The anger, injustice, eats you alive .....  you have to live with it every time you get out of bed.  Then you have to share it, indulge in the grief, the pain and anger to dissipate it or you will die too.  Then some stupid sods tell you that it is wrong to be so angry, vengeful; the same ones who watch and write but never do .......  don’t do, what we do ........  they are not there when the shells rattle your skull or your son is burned to death.   

 

 We eat, shit and sleep together;  we train to kill the bastards, to be soldiers, defend and attack to our own death - and then.....   we are supposed to pull back..... pretend ..... pretend it doesn’t matter when one of the bastards kills your mates; then become like some poncey pen pusher who wouldn’t know a jugular from a carotid and stand back from the enemy we came to defeat ...... and let him live.  In our anguish we cannot sit here and weep; tomorrow we go out and defend;  kill again prohibited to think anything of it -  .......  all we have is the anger.  [Maynard is  ... defiant ... concise and directed ...]  We need it – we mourn with it, direct it, use it to make us better soldiers.....  do whatever we have to do, for Charlie .................. and for you.  What was it George Orwell said...  “People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf”?  Why the fuck are we supposed to be inhuman and superhuman ..... at all, all at once ...... are you?  What makes you so angry that the fog, the grey or red mist, fills your head so you have no choice but to do what you are doing?  If you have experienced this anger ..... then you will know... you will know what it is like to be so angry at injustice you have no choice but to balance it.  This is not wrong – it is right that the human condition has this switch – the valve that prevents the rape of the earth and its people.   It is right when we spot those who have turned their switch off and to rail at it.....................  [Frustration and pain]  But a soldier has that taken away .... there is no balance..... no scales of justice.   We see the horror, inflict the horror, suffer the horror.  Where does the anger go, where does the heat go?   We cannot cool down, pour on the cold water ...... we will crack like an ice cube. 

 

  ...............  Quiet now ...................

 

Lt Col Maynard Prince speaks into his radio quite calm:  “Lieutenant Singh .... are you on dawn patrol tomorrow?     No....?  Good... tell the others not on morning patrol to meet us at the bar.  We’re having few brandies for Charlie.”

 

Lights fade out/end of scene.  When they come back Maynard is sitting at his desk by his bunk, writing a letter.  He puts down his pen, picks up the letter and reads it:

 

“Dear Anya

Life here is as you would expect – hot, dusty and full of rocks.  We had a few brandies last night.  A sniper shot Charlie.  Go see Ginny – send her and little Tammy all my love.  I know you would anyway, but for me too.

 

Remember our last night this time?  Cracking evening .... the warm rain that fell onto my feet and all those stars, there were so many and that night, you with me, your hand on my back. 

 

Looking forward to coming home :  one month down and 3 months, 2 weeks, 3 days and 10 hours to go.

 

Give lots of hugs and kisses to Rosie. 

 

I’ll be able to video call soon I think.

love

May xxxx

 

The audience is his best friend again:  he is confiding his thoughts:

 

“I’ll get the office to make sure she has that tomorrow.  [long pause] ....................I am impotent.  What makes me a soldier is taken away.  What makes me a human is taken away.  Charlie died – he won’t go home.  There is no scale of honour – I cannot avenge him.  Once it was known, believed in: the righteous, avenging knight or even angel.  Not now ..... Now there is no humanity, just breathing hearts walking about in combat trousers.  There is no scale of justice, no great god or goddess holding some celestial scale for mortals to believe ..... to see what is right is done.  No, my balls are cut off.  I cannot tell Ginny I have the sniper .... I don’t have the heart.  If I tell her I have the sniper I should be able to tell her I shot the bastard for her.  These stupid fucking wars make you impotent.  Rosie heals me – she is my sign  .... my sign that the impotence was not there ... before .....     Anya is very far away .... her thread to me is fine, so fine .......”

 

Maynard puts his head onto his arms on the desk and falls asleep.  [a song now to prolong and enhance the emotions and exhaustion of Maynard here : Everybody hurts some time – REM.  This would give the audience time to breathe and feel him there as he falls asleep]

 

Scene ends.

 

 

New Scene:  Maynard is in his bunk asleep.  He is dreaming.  He is thrashing around – shaking, holding his ears : “stop it ..... stop the noise.....   down .. get your fucking heads down ...........  groans – “ohohoh  .......  why can’t you see it .....  what is that stuff , get it off me, get it off me ..................................  down, get your heads down .....................”      He is shaking “stop the noise ...... turn that film off, it plays all the time, all the time ...... get the film off.......... ”   He starts to cough, badly, he wakes... panting, finding it difficult to breath.  He is slightly disoriented looking around him.  He comes too and is lucid.    “Jesus ....  that was a bad one ... they never get better......   [holds his forehead – it is sweating ] My head is burning – damn it ... feels like a fever.  Shouldn’t have come; this has been a bloody difficult one this time;  I knew something wasn’t right. ”

 

Scene ends.

 

New scene returns to his bunk.  He has an ice pack on his head.  “Doc reckons I’ve got that flaming bronchitis thing – common in the Gulf soldiers..... might have to go home.  Damn it - I can’t breathe.”  He has shortness of breath and starts to cough badly; he picks up a face mask attached to an oxygen bottle and uses it to start to breathe easy.  He falls asleep and starts muttering – his fever is making him a bit hallucinogenic “stop the film, stop it .........  Anya, what’s the white stuff, Anya ............  impotent ..................... rolls about, holds his ears ...... stop the fucking noise .............. Ariadne, Ariadne ... no, don’t be gone... don’t be gone ..”  he wakes a bit, sits up with the mask on for a minute.  Pulls it off ... breathing is ok but laboured “ God, I just want to sleep .... quiet sleep ..... with the stars in my garden and the warm rain ....... on my own .... I just want to sleep.”

 

[Starry Starry Night / Vincent plays ........... ]

 

He rolls over onto his side and you see the bright white handprint again on his back (with the UV light) and there is a thread also covered in the bright white stuff which you see coming off his back and off the end of the stage.  The thread is gently moving – gently tugging him. 

 

As the scene ends, the music continues to play to the end of the song into the next scene.  The next scene is Maynard at home in his garden.  He is sitting on his comfy chair in the garden and the evening is fading into a starry night.  He is not relaxed and comfortable with his feet up ..... he is stiff, sitting upright with his feet on the ground.  He has the oxygen mask on his face and is holding it there so he can breathe comfortably.  There are some noises in the hedge and a bang, like a metal lid on a metal bin.  Maynard jumps onto the floor and shouts “hit the ground men ..... down, get your fucking heads down ........”  He stays there for a minute and it is quiet.  He starts to cry .... a deep heartfelt sob comes out. 

 

Whilst crying he starts to speak and gets up onto all fours then as he speaks, kneels up:

 

“I am impotent ....... useless ...... no good to anyone....  no good for my Rosie or Anya ..... no good to Ginny ..........   no good for anywhere....  I couldn’t save Charlie, I didn’t do my job, I didn’t protect Charlie.  I trusted you .............  I asked you if you knew who you were and I said I trusted you ..... .[weeping/anger/questioning]  you are my brothers ..... where are my brothers?  my family ...... where is my family ..... who is my family? ”   

 

[ a song ...... I’ll Stand by You – The Pretenders  ] 

 

During this, Maynard crouches back onto the floor sobbing and he turns and huddles into a foetal position so that you can see his back.  This is a large impressive man huddling – this is something to pause on and then to see the handprint -  glimmering white, more sparkly than before and the thread starts to tug him.  He responds to the tug.  He is moving across the floor and then stops.  There is a pause when nothing happens.

 

Maynard:  “Anya..... where are you    .... [panic arising in his voice]  Anya .... I can’t hear you.  No .... don’t leave me, please ......... [still crying.... but he calms for a moment and turns to the audience – the actor has a choice now to see how this best comes across:  he is let down, angry, disappointed and despairing to find himself in this situation.  He is challenging the audience and the correct balance of these emotions should manifest when working on it]  “You ...... who are you?  Do you know who you are?  ........  You are my brother .... You ....................  are my brother.  Help me, my brother .......  Help me, I cannot hear Anya, she is too far away.  I trusted you ............... I trusted you ...” [falls into steady weeping].

 

 You hear a woman’s voice, clear, strong and soft:  “ Come May ..... come...... I am here ....... always ...... we are here........”   

 

The curtains close as the following is spoken clearly in Maynard’s voice:

 

Last night a warm rain fell

onto my arm that held a beer

 bright stars penetrated the cloud

and my bare feet

breathed in the cooling night air

some friends shared the sizzling pork

and now my wife is waiting

for our final night to begin

she will not sleep

she will check our daughter

come in and touch my back

I will feel each of her fingers

and the imprint of her palm

and it will stay forever there

my tattoo of home

and now I am standing

in my shiny black boots, my thick jacket and belt

with a bag on my shoulders

and my daughter sheds the tears

we dare not

for our parting must be sweet

to bring me back

bring me through

so when my feet are too hot

and a friend’s arm is gone

and dawn patrol

is riddled with bullets

I can know

when we here together

are done with our work

that I will lie tonight, alone

in the sanctuary of my bunk

and I will feel the tattoo

imprinting again

calling me home

to the garden with the stars

 

 

END