PRODUCTIONS HISTORY
VOODOO TO PARADISE (Haiti:: A Dream)
Theatre: Seven Stages, Atlanta Coatesville Community Center as SIRI’S DREAM
Radio: Commissioned by WNYC’s Radio Stage, directed by Marjorie Van Halteren, broadcast on WNYC, New York, WHYY, Philadelphia, and nationwide on NPR.
THE SOUND OF SAND
Radio: Written for and produced by Iowa State University’s Radio Players. Won the Bob Hope Award fromr The National Foundation For The Blind,
HOW HIS BRIDE CAME TO ABRAHAM
Theatre
Playwrights Theatre of New Jersey by John Pietrowski, directed by Ken Marini, fight direction by Rick Sordelet,
Praxis Theatre Project, New York, producer Matt Bray, director Courtney Patrick Mitchell, fight direction Ian Marshall,
Unicorn Theatre, Kansas City, producing artistic director Cynthia Levin, premiere.
Youngstown University, director Dennis Henneman, with symposiums.
Catholic Associations benefit performance at Cathedral High School, NYC
Staged Readings
Israeli/Palestinian Working Group, United Nations; Stanford University, Palo Alto, Seminar on Terrorism, consecutive years, Princeton Middle East Society, Ansche Chesed Synagogue, NYC Cathedral of St John the Divine, NYC, Nebraska Repertory, Castillo, NYC.
Publications
HOW HIS BRIDE CAME TO ABRAHAM is published in PLAYS BY KAREN SUNDE, 2001, and as a single play, 2006, by Broadway Play Publishing, NYC
Film
The Abraham Film Project, www.AbrahamFilm.org – synopsis, trailer, directed by Yahel Herzog and Karen Sunde: https://www.abrahamfilm.org/feature/feature.html
Documentary trailer PLAYING PEACE, by Open Windows Productions, directed by Yahel Herzog and Yuval Sussler: https://www.abrahamfilm.org/documentary/documentary.html
Radio
Adapted for RADIO, produced and directed Audio Drama by Phil Lee, Full House Productions, New York. Sample at https://www.abrahamfilm.org/audio/audio.html
Full CD available from Karen Sunde
VOODOO TO PARADISE
(Haiti: A Dream)
Two scenes and interlude
CHARACTERS:
RUBIN: teacher, Siri’s husband
SIRI: young mother, Rubin’s wife
SAILOR: rough Master of sailing boat
OLD WOMAN: mysterious passenger
PASSENGERS-CHORUS may be “live” or pre-recorded
MUSIC: DRAMATIC ORCHESTRA, SEGUES INTO STORM, FADES TO…
SOUND: DENSE NATURE IN TROPICAL NIGHT: CRICKETS, WATER, INSECTS, HOLDS UNDER
ANNOUNCER: The play is Haiti, A Dream, written for WNYC’s The Radio Stage by Karen Sunde, and recorded in collaboration with The People’s Light and Theatre Company and radio station WHYY in Philadelphia.
SOUND: TROPICAL NIGHT, LAPPING WATER, HOLD UNDER
RUBIN: (HUSHED) What is it, Siri?
SOUND: HATCH BEING OPENED
SIRI: (HUSHED) I’m going down. Stay with the trunk.
SOUND: STEPS ONTO HATCH LADDER
RUBIN: Careful, the baby. (PAUSE. CALLING DOWN) Siri?
SIRI: (FROM BELOW) Wait. I can’t see. (PAUSE) All right, come on. But I don’t think there’s room. Careful, the trunk.
SOUND: DRAGGING LARGE TRUNK OVER EDGE OF HOLD. RUBIN STEPS DOWN LADDER SUPPORTING TRUNK.
RUBIN: (GRUNTING UNDER WEIGHT AS HE MOVES)
SOUND: NIGHT SOUNDS OUT. FADE IN UNARTICULATED HIM OF MANY PEOPLE PACKED INTO HOLD BELOW DECKS.
RUBIN: (AS HE REACHES BOTTOM) Where are you?
SIRI: (CLOSER NOW) Here. But we should go back up. Must be a hundred down here already. No room. Too many people.
SOUND: SMALL BABY SOUNDS
RUBIN: No, here we stay.
SOUND: SETTING TRUNK DOWN
RUBIN: Right here.
SIRI: We can’t even lie down. Rubin, let’s go back up. I’ll feel better breathing the air.
RUBIN: Set down the child. It’ll be best down here. Come the rocking, come the storm. Come the day-long sun.
SIRI: I know, but for now...
RUBIN: Best take the place we can get. They’re filling up.
SIRI: (SIGHING AS SHE SETTLES) Where’d they all come from? Scuttling out in the star night like lizards from under the rock.
RUBIN: Too many people, in a rotten shallow boat. Here, give him here.
(BABY SOUND, BEING LAID TO SLEEP)
RUBIN: He’ll sleep quiet here, sway softly here.
SIRI: Just let us onto the water, past the mosquito clouds. The tickets? Let me see the tickets to America.
RUBIN: Minute. A minute.
SIRI: You got three?
RUBIN: Here we are. One...two...three.
SIRI: (EXCITEMENT AT HOLDING TICKETS) God, god. I couldn’t believe the boat was here. A big sail floating, like a ghost dream.
RUBIN: You didn’t believe? You pushed me all the way! I was the one who wouldn’t pay till we climbed on.
SIRI: That was bad, Rubin; they almost wouldn’t have you.
RUBIN: Look Siri. These are movie tickets!
SIRI: Long as they tickets out of here, doesn’t matter.
SOUND: PEOPLE AND BAGGAGE CONTINUE COMING DOWN LADDER. HOLD OPENS AND SHUTS. LOW MURMURING.
SIRI: People crazy! Still pushing on. We’re filled to bust already.
RUBIN: They’ll have to cut loose soon to keep under dark. Soon, or sunlight’ll catch the sails before we‘re past the line of ocean-sky.
SIRI: Woe man, it smells already. Baby’ll wake with the heat.
RUBIN: Be glad it’s tight. Out on the water, we don’t need leaking. (PAUSE) We don’t have to go, Siri. Siri?
SIRI: (DISTRACTED BY MEMORY) The boat came ghostly. Sitting low, meshed in seaweed. A dark blot against the star map. My heart jumped feeling the breeze on my face, warm water lapping my thighs. (SUDDENLY SHE’S BACK) I don’t like this, Rubin. There’s too many here.
RUBIN: (KEEPING SIRI’S FORMER MOOD) Shhh, listen... Listen, the quiet. Night birds on warm wind. Listen. We won’t hear it again.
SIRI: We’ll hear it, Rubin.
RUBIN: Listen.
SOUND: SILENCE. FADE IN LAND NIGHT SOUNDS. HOLD UNDER.
SIRI: Why don’t they start? We were near last on. Why don’t they start?
RUBIN: Shhhh.
SIRI: They aren’t taking us! They take the money and leave us sit. We’ll be found here in the morning. Nothing to stop it.
RUBIN: That would be bad business. If they leave us, others will hear. They‘ll get no money tomorrow.
SIRI: I know.
RUBIN: You found Fanon, you made sure it was him?
SIRI: Yes yes. Fanon’s old and ugly, but he goes and he comes, many times on the sea. Good business.
RUBIN: Yes.
SIRI: Why don’t we go!
RUBIN: Quiet, now. We paid. (PAUSE) Listen...the frogs.
SOUND: DISTANT FROG CROAKING, CRICKETS
RUBIN: They don’t know we’re going, won’t hear them tomorrow.
SOUND: HATCH BANGS OPEN, SEA NOISE
SAILOR: (CALLING DOWN, HUSHED) Up fast. We’re overloaded. Can’t move like this. Get off now and go tomorrow. Same tickets. Sea’s better tomorrow, better boat. Up fast!
SOUND: MOANS OF PROTEST – FIRST “CHORUS” SOUND BEGINS, SWELLS AS…STEPS OF SAILOR DESCEND. SAILOR SHOVING, PULLING PASSENGERS. SHUFFLING FEET – SOME MOVE TO LADDER, AND CLIMB IT
RUBIN: Let’s get off, Siri, yes? It’s too crowded now. Not safe. Be better tomorrow.
SIRI: There’s nothing tomorrow. Is he going to give the money back? Oh no. You try to find a boat tomorrow, you find only mist. Oh no. We’re packed in, or not in at all. That’s the choice.
RUBIN: Siri...
SIRI: And I made mine.
SOUND:
MUFFLED SPLASHES ABOVE. SAILOR STEPS CLOSE TO THEM
SAILOR: Up fast. That’s it. People are getting off. Come on with the kid.
RUBIN: Siri, let’s get off. You wailed “the baby, the air.” This isn’t good.
SIRI: Is it worse than what we’re leaving?
SAILOR: (COUNTING OFF PEOPLE THAT ASCEND) That’s nineteen up, that’s twenty...
SIRI: Let those up top get off! It’s easy to push them off, an easy slide.
(SAILOR LAUGHS HARSHLY)
RUBIN: Siri, an overloaded boat, it’s not lucky. Come.
SIRI: (REFUSING TO BUDGE) Not lucky, for sure. We were born in an overloaded boat. And I stay.
SOUND: LAST CLIMBING, HATCH SLAMS. QUIET
SIRI: Better hope they don’t ask tomorrow.
SOUND: MORE SPLASHES. MOANING ABOVE AND BELOW.
(LISTENING IN THE DARKNESS. SILENCE)
SOUND: FINALLY, WOOD CREAKING THAT INCREASES
RUBIN: There.
SIRI: What.
RUBIN: We’re moving. That’s it.
SIRI: We’re moving.
SOUND: CREAKING OF OLD WOOD, RHYTHMIC, CONTINUES, HOLDS UNDER
(SUDDEN CRY, CLOSE BY – PIERCING, MOURNFUL)
SIRI: What’s that!
RUBIN: My god.
SIRI: It’s that bundle. Is it a woman?
RUBIN: Old woman, hush ... quiet! What is it?
SIRI: She must be crazy.
(OLD WOMAN IS WINDING UP TO HOWL AGAIN, LIKE AN ANIMAL)
RUBIN: Don’t! They can still hear us on land. It’s dangerous.
(OLD WOMAN HOWLS)
SOUND: HATCH SWINGS OPEN ABOVE
SAILOR: (FROM ABOVE, HUSHED) Shut it up. Somebody trying to get us all shot?
OLD WOMAN: (LONG WAIL) My son!
SAILOR: You think the patrols are asleep?
SIRI: Stop her, Rubin.
SOUND: FAST STEPS DOWN LADDER
SAILOR: (BESIDE THEM) Shut it up now or I put my knife through it.
OLD WOMAN: Where is my son?
(AS OLD WOMAN BEGINS A HOWL, RUBIN GAGS HER, AND HOWL IS MUFFLED)
RUBIN: Quiet. No more noise.
SAILOR: She yours?
RUBIN: No. But I’ll keep her quiet. She’s asking for her son. Is there someone on deck who...?
SAILOR: (ABRUPTLY) Her son got off to lighten the boat. He’ll come on the next one.
SOUND: STEPS TO LADDER
SAILOR: Keep her still.
SOUND: STEPS UP LADDER, HATCH OPEN AND SHUT
(OMINOUS SILENCE TILL SAILOR IS GONE. RUBIN CAREFULLY RELEASING HER–)
RUBIN: There. There. Quiet now, and I’ll let go. You heard? Your son got off. He comes next. Tomorrow.
(OLD WOMAN GROANS, PASSIVE, AS THOUGH DEAD)
RUBIN: You heard?
OLD WOMAN: (LOW) Lie. He lie.
RUBIN: No, it’s true. They asked people to get off. We almost...
OLD WOMAN: Lie. My son don’t get off. Not leave me.
RUBIN: But if they...
OLD WOMAN: He has paper. My medicine. He takes me for medicine. Won’t leave me. What did they do to him?
(SHE BEGINS TO MAKE A HOWL. RUBIN STIFLES HER)
SOUND: BABY STARTS TO FUSS
(SIRI ROCKS BABY, HUMS)
RUBIN: (COMFORTING OLD WOMAN) Quiet, quiet. Nothing to do now. Maybe he’s up there, happy you’re safe.
SIRI: (LOW, TO RUBIN) Or they just pushed him off. I’ve heard those things, Rubin.
(OLD WOMAN TRIES TO HOWL)
RUBIN: Shhh, shhh, bear it. (ROCKING HER, HUM-LIKE) We’re slipping now, quiet as a cat, quiet through night water, out away, away...
(SIRI IS HUMMING TO BABY)
RUBIN: Up on deck we could see, see our home become an island behind us. First we’d see only dark, then a rough shape, dim edge against the sky, crumpled edge of our mountain humps up the black sky. Then mountain growing smaller, island moving away. A thousand glittering waves stretch the way between.
MUSIC: SOMEONE’S TRANSISTOR SCRATCHES ON, PLAYS LOW, ISLAND MUSIC
RUBIN: Hear the island?
OLD WOMAN: I don’t want to go to America. My son wants. He says I need medicine.
RUBIN: Listen...
OLD WOMAN: I don’t want to go.
RUBIN: The island’s moving away, but someone’s caught. It’s in the air. Hear it?
OLD WOMAN: New medicine. Auuuw… sons don’t believe in the old medicine. Faith too weak.
RUBIN: Listen the music.
OLD WOMAN: (FADING INTO TRANCE, THEN HURN) Faith weak...and gone.
SIRI: What’s she say, Rubin?
RUBIN: Nothing.
SIRI: She didn’t want to come?
RUBIN: Yes. Just nothing.
SIRI: It will come right, Rubin.
RUBIN: Of course. Yes.
SIRI: We should feel a breeze.
RUBIN: Not down here.
SIRI: Yes. (PAUSE) Is she asleep?
RUBIN: No. Staring into nothing. Or asleep with eyes open.
SIRI: Maybe her sickness.
RUBIN: Her grip is like iron.
SIRI: What do you think happened to her son?
RUBIN: I don’t know. Maybe she doesn’t have one.
SIRI: That’s not what you think. (PAUSE) Old woman. Grandmother, can I help you?
OLD WOMAN: No one helps. The power is going. Woods getting thin.
RUBIN: What’s she saying?
SIRI: Nothing.
OLD WOMAN: Mango shrivels. Powers don’t come.
SIRI: Is there something you need?
OLD WOMAN: (WITH AN OLD LAUGH) Need.
SIRI: Yes. Can I do something for you?
OLD WOMAN: Need. (BEAT) You have food?
SIRI: (ALARM) Shhhh ...why? You haven’t any?
(GRUNT, NO-ANSWER VOCALIZATION FROM OLD WOMAN)
SIRI: Oooooh...your son.
OLD WOMAN: My son carries food.
SIRI: Yes, of course. Of course we have food.
OLD WOMAN: Shhhh ... be still, with it. Many don’t. They sold all they had to get money for their ticket. They think the sea is small, think one night is the whole journey, think they’ll be soon fed, soon on land.
SIRI: We brought plenty.
OLD WOMAN: (LAUGH) The people don’t know, don’t know we’ll be sailing whole weeks, whole month.
SIRI: Our trunk has everything.
SOUND: SLIDING THEIR TRUNK, UNLOCKING, OPENING IT
SIRI: Food and linen. Law papers, treasures of family. My wedding dress. Are you... hungry?
OLD WOMAN: Are you not? Who comes to the night boat not hungry? But don’t give to me. Save it. Worse will come. Many will die, many starve. On the boats, worse comes.
SIRI: Quiet. We can give you something. We have figs and yams. Rice too.
RUBIN: Wait. She’ll tell us when she needs it. In the morning. Spare it. It may have to stretch. Like fishes and loaves.
SIRI: My god, Rubin.
RUBIN: And don’t be telling midnight stories, Gramma.
OLD WOMAN: You don’t hear the stories? Go you down to market, when traders are coming in, you’ll hear. Stories for weeping in the bright noon.
SIRI: There are accidents, but most get through.
OLD WOMAN: Who say, who say they get through?
SIRI: We have letters. A friend sends money. The strong get through.
OLD WOMAN: For every one sends money, hundreds float head down, scraping their faces on the far shore.
SIRI: (TAKING HOLD OF HER) Don’t talk like that, Gramma!
OLD WOMAN: (RESISTS, PULLING INTO HERSELF) Let go! Nobody know what’s good for them. Spoiled niggers. On slave ships it was good. It was good on those boats. Slaves are worth plenty
. Going where there’s work to do. Now what are you worth? Who pays to have you come to America? Nobody. You pays. To leave where you got nothing, can do nothing, going to where you be worth nothing again. And already you paid the man. What’s he got to gain by taking you there?
SOUND: THUMPS ABOVE, AND SPLASHES, LOUD
SIRI: (ALARMED) What is it!
RUBIN: Something … sliding in.
SIRI: Rubin!
(OLD WOMAN IS HUMMING HERSELF INTO A TRANCE)
SOUND: THUMPS AND SPLASHES ABOVE CONTINUE
RUBIN: We should have left the child.
SIRI: I know that’s what you think. But we couldntt.
RUBIN: We could. Your sister would have...
SIRI: My sister, no. The child is my reason for coming.
RUBIN: Siri, that’s nonsense.
SIRI: You should have stayed. I could have sooner left you.
RUBIN: Siri, stop.
SIRI: I told you. Soon as I knew there’d be a child, I told you. “Go with me or not; no gaping mouth of mine will add to the street-mob. I won’t have a child that cries for food.”
RUBIN: We could have managed. We aren’t stupid. You know there are ways.
SIRI: You begged to “wait.” “Wait till the child comes. A child breathing, adjusts, comes along, needs little, only the breast. But mother breathing for both, she’s delicate, too delicate.”
RUBIN: I was right. You think you’re a bull. Strong like a bull because your will is so fierce.
OLD WOMAN: (GROAN, SNAPPING AWAKE) Uhnnnh bull...? The snake...
SIRI: Yes, I’m fierce. I will get what there is to have. I know there’s a life not hungry. And I will have it.
RUBIN: My woman is the poet of her life.
SOUNDS: MORE SPLASHES. CREAKING AS BOAT ROCKS. TRUNKS SLIDE ACROSS HULL FLOOR. HOLD UNDER
SIRI: Something’s going overboard.
RUBIN: You hear her, Gramma A mighty poet.
OLD WOMAN: And you hear. We are overload.
SIRI: I’m no poet, I’m practical. He blames me that we came.
RUBIN: Leaving is a fool’s chance. At home there’s work to be done.
OLD WOMAN: You have job, you gave up job?
RUBIN: No. Work for the people, only for them.
SIRI: You see who’s the fool? Aach, it’s him. We had to come because of him. He should remember if he blames me. You know the election?
OLD WOMAN: Election? Yes, I know the election. Celebration!
SIRI: Big party, yes. Did you go?
OLD WOMAN: Election. Big bus, riding. Painted, colors many, music, food, great lot of food. Everyone was coming.
SIRI: You went to vote?
OLD WOMAN: I voted, yes. Everyone voted yes. I rode the bus, voted yes with everyone. Very happy. Stop the bus, vote yes. Ride again bus, vote again yes. All around the island voting yes, all around. Eight places I stopped, voted yes eight times. Happy party, Singing for President. You voted too? How many?
SIRI: Once. One was all. (BEAT) Maybe you won’t understand. I votes yes, of course, like everyone. Three government men watched me. I turned to go, and I heard this man here. He came behind me, he had my baby. And I heard them ask him what he wanted to vote, and I heard him say “no”. He voted “no”. Now, all the people were surprised because all day since morning people were voting, and this was the first time someone voted no. So they asked him: No what? What does no mean. He said “No president for life. No for this president.” Three times they asked him. Three times he answered the same. I waited. Like the mountain since the volcano stopped, I stood dead. Didn’t scream. Didn’t grab my child. I only stood dead, waiting to hear him shot. All silent, all...
RUBIN: Then they laughed. All three government men.
SIRI: They were sure you were crazy. Because everyone knows to vote yes!
RUBIN: That’s why I voted no. So everyone sees it can be done!
SIRI: You hide nine years in the mountains. Then show your face to say “no?” What sense is that?!
RUBIN: My father’s gone. That’s the sense.
SIRI: They poisoned him, Rubin. Your lawyer daddy was poisoned.
RUBIN: It’s our country. Free near two hundred years. Free country.
SIRI: Free for what? You get us killed, one way or the other.
RUBIN: Are we safe now?!
SOUND: BEAT, THEN A THUMP ABOVE, LARGE SPLASHES, CREAKING OF WOOD
SIRI: (Clinging to him) Rubin!
RUBIN: Hold on!
SOUND: ALARM AMONG PASSENGERS, CHORUS VOICES TROUBLED. BABY CRIES
SIRI: Again.
RUBIN: What can it be?
OLD WOMAN: (HISSED) The boat breaks now. The sea god is angry.
SIRI: Be still!
RUBIN: Maybe it’s the coast guard. Americans. Maybe we’re out that far.
OLD WOMAN: If they catch us, they’ll throw us home again. (JOYFUL, BEGINS CHANTING) Come catch us, come catch us, throw us home. (REPEATS, LIKE A PRAYER)
SOUND: MURMURS OF OTHERS JOINING HER. ABRUPTLY, HATCH OPENS, SAILOR’S STEPS DESCEND LADDER
SAILOR: (FULL LOUD VOICE FOR FIRST TIME) The noise up there, we call “lighten-ing the boat.” Going to make us run fast. We’re slogging along like a leaky bathtub. Can’t skim past the coast guard. They look for us close to home now, easy, easy for everyone. So then, all bags go up, up and over. Up fast!
SOUND: CHORUS MURMURS TURN TO CRIES, SHOUTS. “OUR BAGS, NO! YOU CAN’T TAKE THEM! THEY‘RE ALL WE HAVE! NO”
SAILOR: (SHOUTS. THROWING A CASE UP) Huurrup! (SHOUTS AGAIN WITH EACH THROW) Huurrup!
SOUND: CASES AND BOXES BANG AS THEY LAND UP ON DECK
SIRI: What will we do, what can we do!
RUBIN: Hold the baby. Here, against the trunk. Sit on it. Maybe they’ll think its theirs. Can the old woman sit on it? God, Siri, I don’t know, I don’t know!
SOUND: SAILOR RAMPAGING ABOUT. CRIES ALL AROUND, SCREAMS OF PROTEST: “NO! LET ME KEEP THIS! NO!!”
SAILOR: Give a hand then, boy. Think you’re on a luxury jet?
SIRI: My trunk! No!
(SAILOR’S ROUGH LAUGH AS HE GRABS TRUNK)
SOUND: SLIDE OF TRUNK AS RUBIN GRABS IT AND PULLS
RUBIN: Let go!
SAILOR: You planning to not cooperate?
SIRI: Hold on, Rubin!
SAILOR: (KICKING HIM) You need some boot in your face?
RUBIN: (STRUGGLING TO HOLD ON) What are you doing! Why not kill us all now, throw the weight overboard!
SAILOR: You something special, maybe. You got a ticket for this load?
RUBIN: Who leaves home with nothing?
SAILOR: Who asked you aboard?!
RUBIN: Savage!
SAILOR: Who asked you to get o ff, go another day, make it easy. Get a moonlight cruise with extras.
RUBIN: You can’t treat us like...
SAILOR: Niggers? Like niggers?
RUBIN: Your mother tell you you’re not black as me?
SOUND: TRUNK DROPPED
SAILOR: (GRABS RUBIN) Arrrh!
SIRI: Ahhh!
SOUND: SLAM OF RUBIN THROWN DOWN.
(RUBIN IS HURT, BREATHING HARD)
SIRI: Rubin!
SAILOR: Listen me good, stuck-up bastard. You do this once. Take your chance. Me, everyday. My neck, my ship, my sweet balls on the spike. For what? A little little money. I’d be happy to sleep on shore. So don’t ask! Don‘t come sweeping off the island like rats, squealing and retching, and swamping my ship. (BEAT) Now this trunk goes!
(AS SAILOR LIFTS TRUNK, SIRI GRABS HIM, WITH SQUEAL AND SNARL)
SIRI: You can’t, you can’t take it!
RUBIN: Siri, don’t.
SAILOR: (SWINGING, TRYING TO SHAKE HER OFF) Tell her to let go, or she’s
next. Over the side. She and the brat together!
(SIRI BITES SAILOR)
SOUND: TRUNK DROPS
SAILOR: (YELL) She bites?! (DRAWING KNIFE) She needs a taste of the blade.
RUBIN: (TRYING TO GET BETWEEN THEM) He’s got a knife, Siri. Let him take it!
SAILOR: (REACHING FOR SIRI) I’ll take care of her, easy as snapping off a hen’s head.
RUBIN: Siri!
(OLD WOMAN SUDDENLY RISES, EMITTING A STRANGE SOUND. STRUGGLING STOPS. SAILOR YELLS AS THOUGH HE’S BEEN BURNED, DROPS THE KNIFE)
SOUND: KNIFE CLATTERING DOWN
RUBIN: What did she do to him? She lifted her arm...
(ALL ARE STUNNED)
SAILOR: (FRIGHTENED) All right, old woman, calm down. The knife is gone. I’m taking the trunk.
SOUND: TRUNK SLIDING
RUBIN: My god. What did she do?
SIRI: (INTENSE WHISPER) The food. Rubin, the food...
RUBIN: Hii! Let us keep our food. Unless you plan that we starve as well.
SAILOR: (STOPS WITH A GRUNT, THEN) Show me.
SOUND: SAILOR LETS THE TRUNK SLIDE. RUBIN OPENS IT, GETS A BUNDLE OUT
RUBIN: Here. Just this bundle. Weighs less every day. We’ll share.
(SAILOR GRUNTS, SHORT LAUGH AS HE SHOULDERS THE TRUNK)
SOUND: STAGGERING STEPS OF SAILOR TO LADDER WITH WEIGHT
RUBIN: Grandmother?
SIRI: Leave her. She’s just staring.
RUBIN: What was that she did?
SIRI: What?
RUBIN: She stopped him. She raised her arm, and he stopped. He was frightened.
SIRI: I didn’t see.
RUBIN: You did. You were frightened too. (PAUSE) You were.
SIRI: The path on water.
RUBIN: What?
SIRI: Maybe...she found the water path.
END OF SCENE
INTERLUDE
MUSIC: DRUM AND FLUTE
SOUND: WIND INCREASING; SEA ROLLING AGAINST BOAT, HOLD UNDER
CHORUS: Aaaaah…
(CHORUS VOICES FIRST BLEND WITH WIND, THEN ECHO OLD WOMAN’S VOICE)
OLD WOMAN and CHORUS
Day flows into weeks
on the open sea
a moment equals
eternity
Only man troubles
with time
his little time
Only man troubles
with time
SOUND: BUILDS TO SUDDEN STOP
MUSIC: OUT
SCENE TWO
(SUDDEN SILENCE. THEN GROAN OF RUBIN WAKING, WEEKS LATER, IN STAGNANT HEAT. WHEN HE SPEAKS, IT IS CLEARLY HIM, BUT NEAR STARVATION LENDS A WARY-ANIMAL DELIRIUM TO HIS MONOLOGUE)
RUBIN: Aaaah, sun...burning...too bright. Should shut the hatch, someone. Shhh. Still. No rocking. Shhh. Careful, don’t wake her. Careful. Shhh. What’s that sound. Wave? No. Wind? No. Nothing. There was nothing. Your own brain sloshing. Shhh.
More of us won’t wake. Just...not wake. Slip away, silent, into the sea. No whimper. Just... stop. Stomach stops, then voice, then eyes. Sailor finds them, carries them above, slips them quiet, into the sea.
Got to wake, look for... Nothing in the bag. Nothing left. Not even in the corner. Thought there was a yam. One yam left? Grain of rice? Anything? Look again. Be patient. Got to find something. Feel between planks, down the hull, beneath. Fingers reach down... Nothing, nothing. Don’t panic. Pockets. Try pockets again.
(PAUSE, THEN LOUD) Iiiiiiah!
SIRI: (STIRRING WEAKLY WHERE SHE LIES) What?
RUBIN: A bean. A black bean. I found one. There’s one left.
SIRI: (DULLY) Are we moving?
RUBIN: No no no, of course not. Look at it, Siri. I give it to you.
SIRI: (PREOCCUPIED WITH BABY, CRADLED IN HER ARM) No. You found it. Look, the baby, he’s just...
RUBIN: But I love you, my darling one. I’ll give it to you. I was dreaming... you, holding your skirt up, thighs parting the water, sleek gliding, gliding.
SIRI: You dreamed? I too. (REMEMBERING DREAM) Oh god...
RUBIN: What, darling, my mermaid...what troubles? What did you dream?
SIRI: (SHARP CHANGE) Look at him! Is he breathing?
RUBIN: He sleeps, darling, don’t be afraid, only sleeps.
SIRI: It was better when he cried. Even all night long. He was strong enough to cry.
RUBIN: He’ll be strong again. Here. That’s why you eat the bean. So you’ll be strong to feed him. cry...you’ve been so good, don’t start. You need your tears for milk. Don’t drop them. There, that’s right.
SIRI: It’s no good, it’s over. Yesterday, the day before. He’d yank, angry. Then refuse and cry. Then pull, again, nub nipple sucked into the curl of his dry tongue. Oh god! To be aching full again, to be dripping sticky milk in my sleep again, aching for his greedy tongue.
RUBIN: Love, my love.
SIRI: So I must still not cry. Save this teaspoon of tears...for what? It’s over.
RUBIN: Let me hold you...come... (SINGS)
No greater sorrow, Papa God, no greater woe
No greater sorrow come down on me
No greater sorrow, Papa God, no greater woe
Than the Mama got who can’t feed her child.
(SPEAKS) Tell, me your dream.
SIRI: I hope I’m forgetting. Dream pictures go away if you... No. He’s still there.
RUBIN: Who is?
SIRI: The old white.
RUBIN: What old white?
SIRI: I don’t know. Are we moving?
RUBIN: No.
SIRI: I felt it. We slid to the side.
SOUND: MUFFLED SPLASH
SIRI: What’s that?
RUBIN: Another who didn’t wake. The sailor found three more. He slides them silent into glassy sea, it won’t shatter. What did you dream?
SIRI: Three gone? That’s more room.
RUBIN: An old white. A man?
SIRI: Yes, a man.
RUBIN: What happened?
SIRI: I was swimming...
RUBIN: I saw you walking. In my dream.
SOUND: WATER FLOWING, ARMS PULLING, HOLDS UNDER
SIRI: No, swimming. For miles. Miles and miles, the day, the night. My limbs are heavy, slow, like stumps soon sinking. My lungs hurt. I gasp to stay afloat, but the sea is warm... Then, a piece of land. I can see it. I can reach it…
SOUND: BIRD TWITTERING
SIRI: I can smell the ripe earth. Fruits hang over the water. Wet pine, wild strawberry. But the water is still deep, even at the edge. I grab a flat rock, stretch my arm across to lift me. But I slide,the rock is slippery. I reach again, hear a laugh...
SOUND: LOW CHUCKLE
SIRI: An old white comes hobbling out onto the rock. He laughs, and, putting his foot on my head, pushes it under. Not far under, just enough. He laughs another laugh. Being very careful that his shiny shoe stays dry.
(SILENCE)
RUBIN: I’ll save the bean. Just till he’s awake. Then I’ll chew it soft, and give it to him.
SIRI: When the sailor took the three who didn’t wake, what did he say about the wind?
RUBIN: Nothing. I asked how is the sky But the sailor said nothing. He did not look well himself.
SIRI: It can’t be far. We must be close. I could smell the ripe earth.
RUBIN: Every day is a day, my mermaid, but...
SIRI: But...Saturday is not Sunday?
OLD WOMAN: (STIRRING FROM SLEEP) Ummmhmmm...
RUBIN: (ALERT) She’s waking...ahah, ahah. Listen. She’ll start mumbling.
SIRI: Never mind. Let her be.
OLD WOMAN: (INARTICULATE) Low now, riding the stream.
RUBIN: But how does she do it, what’s she living on?
SIR
I: Not our business.
RUBIN: She never took a bite from us. Not even a fistful of rice, not even at first.
SIRI: I don’t know. It’s her business.
RUBIN: But did you watch? She hasn’t eaten. I swear. But I’m sure, I’m sure unless I’m crazy...she’s getting stronger. First day she was a broken bird, almost dead. And now, after weeks, she breathes as full and sure as deep rolling surf.
SIRI: Where did you put the bean?
RUBIN: (CHEERFULLY) One bean, Granma. That’s all that’s left.
OLD WOMAN: Did any go during the night?
(RUBIN’S DELIRIOUS CHEER IS SINKING INTO PANIC)
RUBIN: Three we know of. Three from down here.
OLD WOMAN: Not so many then.
RUBIN: You’re looking well.
OLD WOMAN: Yes yes.
RUBIN: The cruise agrees with you.
OLD WOMAN: (CHUCKLE) Hmmmh. We ride low, ride stream of life.
RUBIN: (SPITS IT OUT) We’re riding nothing now. Still no wind.
OLD WOMAN: Don’t be troubled. Water‘s path for the spirit. The baby?
SIRI: (LISTLESS) Drowned.
RUBIN: No, he sleeps. The crying stopped.
OLD WOMAN: Good. Sleeping good.
RUBIN: (BEAT) Yes. (THEN, ANGER RISING) It’s a good joke on us, Gramma, think – this, us on this boat, we did ourselves, we fought for our place here. The last time our people were in a place like this, they were dragged on and chained to the hull.
OLD WOMAN: Chained, yes. But after weeks, they got food, plenty food, fatten the stock, the man-cattle, cattle are worth much. (EMPHATICALLY) The slave boats were better I
(SATISFIED WITH HER PRONOUNCEMENT, THE OLD WOMAN GETS TO HER FEET)
SOUND: OLD WOMAN SLAPPING A SUPPORT POST
OLD WOMAN: Good post here. Fine post.
(SHE VOCALIZES A DRUMMING SOUND AS…)
SOUND: SLAPS IN RHYTHM ON POST
(HER HUM HOLDS UNDER, GROWING TO A CHANT AS THE SCENE CONTINUES)
RUBIN: (EXPLODING BITTERLY) We’re not lost, Siri, it’s not possible, not now. There’s radar. They can find anything. Bits of metal in space, electrons in vapor, anything! They’ve tracked us from the beginning. They know exactly where we are. We can’t be lost !
OLD WOMAN: (HUM MUTTERING) Dadumm, dun dadadada dun...
SIRI: (DULLY) No one said we’re lost. There’s just no wind.
RUBIN: There are helicoptors. There’s radar. They know we’re here…
SIRI: Rubin...
RUBIN: They’ve decided. They’re waiting until we all die.
SIRI: Rubin, don’t. Don’t. It’s no one’s fault. Don’t use your strength like that. Don’t. Come my darling. Sit.
(SHE IS PLEADING, COMFORTING. THE OLD WOMAN MUTTERS RHYTHMICALLY, SOUND INDICATES MOVEMENT IN CIRCLE, CLOSER, THEN FARTHER. SIRI FINALLY NOTICES, AND GASPS, TERRIFIED)
SIRI: What’s she doing? Stop her! Don’t do that!
RUBIN: What?
SIRI: (GETTING UP TO GRAB THE OLD WOMAN) Stop. Stop that. Stop.
RUBIN: Siri...
OLD WOMAN: Hands off, girl!
SIRI: You can’t do that here.
RUBIN: What do you mean, Siri?
SIRI: She’s opening the door. She can’t.
RUBIN: What door? That’s a post.
OLD WOMAN: What I do, girl?
SIRI: You know, old woman.
OLD WOMAN: And you also know?
SIRI: (BEAT) I won’t let you.
RUBIN: What’s this about, Siri?
OLD WOMAN: Be still. All be still. Look after your child, girl.
RUBIN: Siri, what is it? Siri?
(SIRI DOES NOT RESPOND)
OLD WOMAN: Food all gone now?
RUBIN: (SIGHS, TENSION GONE) Yes.
OLD WOMAN: You got nothing left?
RUBIN: (WEAK) Something. (GETTING INTO HIS POCKET) In my handkerchief. These.
SOUND: CLINK OF HEAVY COINS UNWRAPPED
OLD WOMAN: (PICKS UP A COIN, CHUCKLES) Your woman right. You crazy. These coins worth nothing. Too old
RUBIN: Yes, they’re old. From the mountain. I dug...many places. You can buy a pig with these. But in America...you can buy more than a pig.
OLD WOMAN: America so stupid?
RUBIN: They‘re old. They’re treasure.
OLD WOMAN: They from slave times?
RUBIN: (RELAXED) No. From the time the black man took his freedom. Revolution time. Only second time in the world, man took freedom. And that man was black.
OLD WOMAN: (EXAMINING A COIN) This black man on the coin?
RUBIN: That’s King Henry. Henry Christophe. He built a great castle, to fight Napoleon. You know that castle, on the mountain top?
OLD WOMAN: (SETTLING, PLEASED) Proud old time.
RUBIN: (LIMP, WEAK) Still proud, still. And good, sweet people. People need to learn something, Gramma.
OLD WOMAN: (CLUCKING) Too much evil, evil world, honey-tongue boy.
RUBIN: They need to learn the world.
OLD WOMAN: (SUDDENLY ALERT) Your woman is from the country, yes?
RUBIN: (PAINFULLY) Yes.
OLD WOMAN: But not you. You speak together French. You teach her?
RUBIN: (IGNORING THE QUESTION) What do you do at the post, Gramma?
OLD WOMAN: Post, aah. Post is crossing place.
RUBIN: Crossing place?
OLD WOMAN: Crossing – world of us, world of spirits. Spirit travels through the post. Your woman’s afraid. Huuhuh. She believes.
SIRI: (A