CHARACTERS
OBA
Male, fifty-something
AARIF
Male, thirty-something, confident
FEMI
Female, twenty-something
SETTING
An overstuffed yet bare living room. Fat recliner, rusty radiator, doilied coffee table, gaudy tiffany lamp, bare and dirty floorboards. Once opulent but now stripped piece by piece for cash. There is definitely no oak desk, velvet drapes or leather chair.
Oba and Femi move around as if unaware of each other. They repeat patterns until it becomes clear he is purposefully not encountering her. The phone rings.
| OBA | Hello? Yes, I’ve got it. Come on up. |
| AARIF | (Enters. Can’t keep his eyes off of Femi) |
| OBA | Come in. Come in. |
| AARIF | Thank you. (Sees package on the table) Is that it there? |
| OBA | Yes. |
| AARIF | (Sits down. Femi sits next to Aarif) |
| OBA | So that’s everything, then? |
| AARIF | Yes. |
| OBA | Well, then. (Small, uncomfortable laugh) |
| AARIF | Well. (Feeling Femi’s leg indiscreetly.) |
| OBA | I’ve got to go down your way about now. Shall I walk with you? |
| AARIF | No, you go ahead. I don’t want to keep you. |
| OBA | (Small, uncomfortable laugh) I’ve got a couple of minutes yet. Why don’t I wait until you’re ready and we’ll go together? |
| AARIF | I don’t want to keep you. |
| OBA | I don’t want to hurry you. |
| AARIF | Well. |
| OBA | Well. |
| AARIF | Alright, let’s go now. (They exit. Femi hardly notices) |
Oba pours a drink, check watch, picks up and examines various things on table/shelf. Femi and Aarif enter in mild good spirits. Oba ignores them at first. They pull up and regard Oba.
| FEMI | Hello. |
| OBA | Oh, hello. How are you, old man? |
| AARIF | Fine, fine. Just been to the pictures. |
| OBA | Swell. Did you enjoy it? |
| AARIF | Quite. |
| OBA | What did you see? |
| AARIF | That new thing that’s out. |
| OBA | Yes. You’d like that. Lots of low cut tops and low brow humour. |
| AARIF | … |
| FEMI | Shall we have a drink? |
| OBA | Let’s have a drink. Whiskey? |
| AARIF | Ace. |
| OBA | Ice? |
| AARIF | Yes. |
| OBA | (Hands a drink to Aarif) Here you go. |
| AARIF | Awfully quiet here. Haven’t you any neighbours? |
| FEMI | I’ll put a record on. (She puts on a record and dances alone as they raise their voices over the music) |
| OBA | Yes, we’ve got some neighbours, alright. Never know what they’re up to. Quiet as church mice. Deadly as mosque rats, eh? |
| AARIF | Better than kicking up a racket, eh? |
| OBA | I like to know where I stand. |
| AARIF | … |
| OBA | … |
| AARIF | Yes. Is there a gentlemen’s room I could … |
| OBA | Through that door, to your left, end of the hall. |
| AARIF | (Goes) |
| OBA | Turn that off. |
| FEMI | Right after this song. |
| OBA | (Waits a few seconds, then pointedly turns it off. Waits.) What’s that sound? |
| FEMI | I don’t hear anything. |
| OBA | (Takes her by the hair and puts her head against the radiator) That. That. You know what that is? It’s the sound that I’ve been listening to for the last three hours waiting for you to come home. And what have you been up to, eh? I don’t wonder. To the pictures. Have you given a thought to me? (Aarif casually sits and flips through a magazine on the table) If I’ve had any dinner? A bath? Thankless little tart. A fine slut. |
| AARIF | You can’t get brandy at the pictures these days |
| OBA | Oh? |
| AARIF | Not since June, at least. |
| OBA | We have some here. Would you like …? |
| AARIF | No. I wanted it then, but not now. |
| OBA | Alright. |
| AARIF | I’m not even sure I wanted it then. You just want something to be at hand when you want it, you know? |
| OBA | And rightfully so. It’s only civilized. I mean, what are we civilized for if not a glass of brandy when we want it? |
| AARIF | Mm. |
| FEMI | I’d like some. |
| OBA | You’ve got what you need. |
| FEMI | Have I? |
| OBA | Oh, I think so. Run of the place. Come and go as you please, don’t you? Sit down and put your knees together for a few minutes, will you? You’re giving me an ulcer. |
| AARIF | And not only that, no ice either. Soon enough they’ll be nothing at the pictures but the pictures. |
| OBA | Soon enough. Nothing left at all. (He walks to the mantle, knocks over his drink. Her cleans it up, exposing her behind. Oba watches Aarif watching Femi.) |
| OBA | Why is your skirt so short? (Oba bends to flip it down, and is stopped by Aarif’s voice) |
| AARIF | Oh, I nearly forgot to mention. There was a little extra from that last package. Here’s yours. (Stands and counts off money, still watching Femi.) |
| OBA | Uh, thank you. I’ll walk you out. |
| AARIF | Alright. See you soon. |
They sit apart without speaking for a while. Get up and take new seats occasionally. The phone rings. He answers it.
| OBA | Hello? Yes, come on up. (Hangs up) That’s dinner |
| FEMI | Don’t you want me? |
| OBA | Shut up. Don’t be stupid. |
| FEMI | Okay, I won’t be stupid. Do you want me now? |
| OBA | I’d better get the door. (A single sparse plate is delivered. He eats. She watches disinterestedly) |
| FEMI | Do you want Oba? |
| OBA | Get away. |
| FEMI | Do you want your chicken bone? (Taking it and dancing away) How about a whole pile of chicken bones? |
| OBA | Give it here. |
| FEMI | You could have anything you want. |
| OBA | (Picks through his plate for what’s left) |
| FEMI | (Crawls over Oba, seductively. He tries not to react, tries to get the chicken bone. She keeps it out of reach.) I’m a chicken bone. Don’t you want me? |
| OBA | Stop it. |
| FEMI | Don’t you? |
| OBA | Yes. |
| FEMI | Chick, chick, chicken. |
| OBA | (Aroused) Dammit. |
| FEMI | Chick, chick, chicken. |
| OBA | (Breathing heavily) |
| FEMI | Come on. Let me hear your cock. |
| OBA | (Reaches once more for the bone, then crows for her) |
| FEMI | (Rolls off Oba laughing cruelly, dropping the chicken bone on the floor.) |
| OBA | (Falls upon the bone and works it hungrily) |
Phone rings and then abruptly stops. A moment. A knock on the door. Oba opens the door and Aarif enters.
| OBA | Hello. |
| AARIF | Package here yet? |
| OBA | I wasn’t expecting another package quite so— |
| FEMI | (Entering) Here it is. |
| AARIF | Great (Squeezes her) Great. |
| OBA | Ah, yes. That package. You have something for me, then? |
| AARIF | Hm? Yes. (Passes Oba a packet of money. Passes Femi a packet of money) |
| OBA | Let me get you a drink. |
| AARIF | Did I leave a wallet in the bathroom, last time I was here? |
| OBA | I don’t think you were in the bathroom last time— |
| AARIF | Would you check? |
| OBA | (To Femi) Why don’t you go and check if… |
| AARIF | (Holds her wrist) |
| OBA | I’ll … I’ll check. (Goes out reluctantly, hesitating at the door. Femi and Aarif lock eyes. Oba leaves.) |
| AARIF | (Turns Femi around to look at her, without releasing her) That’ll do. That’ll do nicely. |
| OBA | (Returning with hasty dread) Nothing there. (Walks past them, plants his body against Femi’ back. Aarif takes a step back, lets Femi go. Oba pushes her head/back down until she is bent over double, then kicks her legs out from under her so that she falls) |
| AARIF | Careful. |
| OBA | Nothing to drink, then? |
| AARIF | No time today. Maybe next time. |
| OBA | You’re off, then? |
| AARIF | Off. (He leaves) |
They sit apart without speaking for a while. Get up and take new seats occasionally. The phone rings. He answers it.
| OBA | Hello? Yes, come on up. (Hangs up) That’s dinner. (Door opens. He takes an even sparser plate) Don’t watch me. Stop watching me. |
| FEMI | (Looks away) |
| OBA | Who do they call here for, eh? For me. Every time that damned thing rings, it’s for me. You don’t enter into it. They want something, they want it from me. They don’t think of me sitting here picking over wilted leaves and dry bones. They see me behind that oak desk over there; they see me through the velvet drapes. They see me in my glory. They have respect. Respect. (Throws bone on the floor) Come here. |
| FEMI | (Goes to Oba. He strokes her hair.) |
| OBA | Good girl. (He grips her by the throat) Give it to me. |
| FEMI | (Hands over money) |
| OBA | Good girl. (Puts his hand on her thigh) No stockings. Where are your stockings? Dirty tramp. You go out there to make a fool of me? You giving away what’s mine? Where are your stockings? Filthy whore. I keep a clean house. Respect. I keep order. Do you see that? |
| FEMI | And what if I stayed here? Hm? What could you do with me? |
| OBA | They see me in my leather chair. They await my approval. They, they, they come to me. |
| FEMI | What can you do? |
| OBA | They respect me. I stay here, and they come to me. |
Oba is reading a newspaper. Femi opens the door and lets Aarif in.
| OBA | That’s a nice surprise, old man. How are things? |
| AARIF | You know me. Always something in the works. |
| OBA | This I know. I was just reading the damndest thing, you know. Damndest thing. |
| AARIF | Is that so. |
| OBA | Unbelievable. This fellow— |
| AARIF | Just a moment. I’ll be right back. (He goes into the other room with Femi. There is sexy murmuring. Oba turns on some music and sits.) |
Oba waits. Picks up the phone. Puts it down. Repeats. Finally dials.
| OBA | Do you know what time it is? … No, I know what time it is, I’m asking if you do. Nothing’s come. … What do you mean? Income? What income? … Well, she’s nothing to do with me. … What? Listen, I am in destitution here. Destitution! What do you people want? Blood? … I tell you, she’s’ nothing to do with me. Look- … No, listen- … … I see. I see. (Looks at Femi) Uh huh. Then have someone who does have authority call me, dammit. That’s unbelievable. (Hangs up) |
| Man can’t have a crumb, a crumb, without having to answer for it. Outrageous. Outrageous! They want me down. They want to keep me from what is mine. A man earns. However little, however nefariously, he earns. Goddammit. What am I to do if you— (Phone rings. They both look at it. It eventually stops. Rings itself out again. Stops. She puts on music and dances impassively.) |
They sit apart without speaking for a while. Get up and take new seats occasionally. The phone rings. He answers it.
| OBA | Hello? Come up. (To Femi) Get out of here. Keep the curtains closed. |
| FEMI | (Hides in another room) |
| OBA | (Opens the door and receives a plate. He sits to eat it, but weeps instead). |
Donna-Michelle St. Bernard aka Belladonna is a word slinger with purpose. Her plays include Salome's Clothes, Oh Sudanah and Gas Girls. Her discography includes Off My Chest and The Bridge/Is Over. DM is currently General Manager of Native Earth Performing Arts and Artistic Director of New Harlem Productions.
April 6th, 2010
Griffin Poetry prize shortlist announced
April 1st, 2010
Gaspereau Press Wins Five Alcuin Design Awards
April, 2010
George Elliot Clarke's I & I (Goose Lane Editions, 2009) nominated for the Dartmouth Book Award for Fiction.
December, 2009
MTLS receives Canada Council for the Arts’ funding and begins to disburse honoraria beginning with issue 5
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