Read Twist of Gold Page 7


  ANNIE: Well, we’re friends, not enemies.

  SEAMUS FINN: Of course you are, but they don’t know that yet.

  SEAMUS FINN approaches the RED INDIAN CHIEF. They greet each other with a ritual – then the RED INDIAN CHIEF laughs. He speaks perfect English, much to SEAN and ANNIE’s surprise.

  RED INDIAN CHIEF: Good evening, Mr Finn. And how is your hunt for gold coming along?

  SEAMUS FINN: Very well, thank you. And how is yourself?

  RED INDIAN CHIEF: I could not be better. In fact I have a proposition for you.

  SEAMUS FINN: You do, do you?

  RED INDIAN CHIEF: Yes indeedy-do-dah. One of the tribe witnessed an attack two days ago by an elegant-looking migrant on two seedy-looking men from a beleaguered, forlorn, and chaotic mess of a wagon-train.

  SEAN: The Colonel and the bounty hunter and French Charlie!

  RED INDIAN CHIEF: They were arguing about something or whatnot and all ended up killing each other. One of the seedy men was wearing a twist of gold beneath his jerkin.

  ANNIE: Oh, Sean. The Colonel died trying to get back our torc from the bounty hunter.

  RED INDIAN CHIEF: I have no use for gold, as you know. But you have been searching for gold for a ‘divil’ of a long time, so I was wondering if you would like to buy this gold from me.

  SEAMUS FINN: Buy?

  RED INDIAN CHIEF: Exchange it for some of your bear-skins.

  SEAMUS FINN: Let me see this gold of yours.

  The RED INDIAN CHIEF brandishes the golden torc.

  ANNIE: Sean!

  SEAN: (To ANNIE.) Sh!

  SEAMUS FINN: (Rubbing his chin.) No, that’s not the kind of gold I’m after.

  ANNIE: Seamus Finn!

  SEAN gives ANNIE a prod with his elbow.

  SEAMUS FINN: No. Gold’s worth little if it’s been fashioned for the white man’s vanity. It’s raw gold I’m after, pure gold.

  RED INDIAN CHIEF: Well, if you change your mind…

  ANNIE can contain herself no longer.

  ANNIE: Buy it, Mr Finn, no matter what the cost. ’Tis our torc, you can’t let it go. Men have died trying to save it for us. We’ll pay you back.

  The RED INDIAN CHIEF smiles. SEAMUS FINN’s shoulders slump.

  SEAMUS FINN: Oh, Annie. Do you imagine I didn’t know it was your torc and that you’d want it back? I was just about to persuade the old divil that it might be worth a few pelts, nothing more. The last thing I wanted was for him to know we’d pay him the earth for it. Annie, you’re the sweetest thing, but when it comes to matters of business you’ve got the brain of a donkey.

  RED INDIAN CHIEF: So I suggest that you give me your entire collection of pelts, Mr Finn. You will not find a golden torc like this every day of the week, believe me. And you would not want to disappoint the young lady, now, would you?

  SEAMUS FINN reluctantly hands over his pile of skins – and the RED INDIAN CHIEF hands over the golden torc to ANNIE.

  ANNIE: Thank you, Seamus; thank you sir.

  The RED INDIAN CHIEF pulls a fierce face.

  RED INDIAN CHIEF: Boo!

  And he laughs and leaves with the other INDIANS.

  SEAMUS FINN: (To ANNIE.) You’ll be the ruin of me.

  ANNIE: I’m sorry.

  SEAMUS FINN: Never be sorry for what’s past. Let’s just call it a little disaster. Be happy, and think to the future.

  ANNIE: Can we go and find Father now?

  SEAMUS FINN: Well, there’s little else for us to stay for. So why not?

  SEAN: What shall we do with our pans?

  SEAMUS FINN: We’ll wash them out one last time, and then we’ll pack them away for good.

  They wash the pans out – and SEAN stares at what he finds in the bottom of his.

  SEAN: Annie. Could I be looking at the torc please? Would you let me have it a moment?

  ANNIE hands it over.

  ANNIE: I don’t want it anyway. It’s killed many a good man and ruined others. It has a curse on it, Sean, I know it has.

  SEAMUS FINN: It’s not me day, is it? I’m getting old, that’s what be happenin’. I only look in the mirror once a year – a man keeps younger that way; or maybe he just thinks he does. No gold, no pelts, and now no fun with you twos.

  SEAN: Oh, I don’t know Seamus. Will you take a look at what I’ve found.

  And he reveals a golden nugget the size of his fist, shaped like a jagged boot. SEAMUS FINN stares in wonder. He can hardly bring himself to touch it. Then he picks it up and cradles it like an egg.

  SEAMUS FINN: Holy Mary, Mother of God.

  He falls to his knees.

  (To SEAN + ANNIE.) Oh you darlins, you little darlins! I’ve seen enough fool’s gold to know that this is the real thing!

  SEAN: And there’s plenty more where that came from – a whole streak of gold along the river bed.

  SEAMUS FINN: Forget Kerry! There’ll be enough to buy all of Ireland! But I’m not a greedy man. Half of Ireland will do!

  They pack up their gold and violin case and so on, and make their way to Grass Valley.

  * * *

  So we’ll head for Grass Valley. It’s where all the most hopeful emigrants go in California.

  ANNIE: Why?

  SEAMUS FINN: Because there was not supposed to be grass in the desert – and yet in California, anything is possible.

  Grass Valley. People.

  Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but we’re lookin’ for one Patrick O’Brien, lately arrived from Ireland.

  MAN: I don’t know no O’Brien. But the Irish are further down Grass Valley, towards the sea.

  SEAMUS FINN: Much obliged.

  They walk on some more.

  Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but we’re lookin’ for a Patrick O’Brien, who lives in these here parts.

  ANOTHER MAN: O’Brien… O’Brien… Nope. Plenty of Paddys, but can’t recall an O’Brien. Ask at the stores, they might’ve heard of him.

  So they go on to the stores.

  SEAMUS FINN: Beggin’ your pardon, Ma’am, but we’re lookin’ for one Patrick O’Brien, lately come from County Cork in Ireland. D’you know the man I’m speaking of by any chance?

  WOMAN: Sure I do, sir.

  SEAMUS FINN: You do?

  ANNIE and SEAN are overjoyed.

  WOMAN: His place is a short while down along Grass Valley. It’s the only house you’ll find. Built himself a fine place he has, tallest chimney I ever did see. But I ain’t seen him for a couple of months now, not since he came back. Are you kin of his maybe?

  ANNIE: We are!

  SEAN: Son and daughter.

  ANNIE: He’s the son and I’m the daughter.

  WOMAN: I can tell that right enough! Keep along the river this side of the bank, and you can’t miss it.

  SEAMUS FINN: Ma’am. I’ll be needin’ a horse an’ saddle. I see you’ve some fine animals in the paddock. I’ll pay you well – in gold, proper gold.

  WOMAN: You mean real, live gold?

  SEAMUS FINN: Yes Ma’am. I’ll be needin’ a mount to take me so far as San Francisco.

  ANNIE: Will you be leaving us, Seamus?

  SEAMUS FINN: I’ll not be delayin’ you much longer, we’ve come to the parting of our ways. Your way lies ahead and my way to the south, to San Francisco.

  ANNIE: Please stay with us, at least till we find Father again.

  SEAMUS FINN: I’ve made up me mind. You’ll not be needin’ me any more now, will you? So I’ll be goin’ on my way – but I’d like you to have somethin’ before I go.

  He hands them the gold.

  SEAN: But that’s all your gold, Seamus!

  SEAMUS FINN: Not quite all, but almost, for sure. Why would I need it when I get back to Ireland?

  SEAN: To buy half of Kerry, like you said.

  SEAMUS FINN: I’m not so certain Kerry is for sale, and I’m gettin’ on. Old men grow no younger. You’re both still very young. You could do with the gold more than me.

  ANNIE: But we have our golden torc.

/>   SEAMUS FINN: You surely have. And you must treasure it.

  SEAN: ’Tis your gold, Seamus. Didn’t you come to America to make your fortune? And didn’t we come to find our father? And haven’t we all found our pot of gold?

  SEAMUS FINN: Sure, ’tis nothing. Give it to your father. As more people come, the cost of land and beasts will soon be a match for that gold.

  ANNIE: Thank you, Seamus.

  SEAMUS FINN: Consider it a parting gift to the prettiest girl in the world.

  He wipes away a tear.

  Now I’ll be on my way before you unman me.

  SEAN: Goodbye, Seamus Finn.

  ANNIE: Goodbye.

  SEAMUS FINN: (Leaving.) Never look back, children, never look back.

  And he’s gone. Silence. The sound of the sea.

  ANNIE: Let’s go home, Sean.

  SEAN: Yes, let’s go home.

  And they run towards a house with a tall chimney –

  ANNIE: Look: a tall chimney. It must be Father’s!

  SEAN: Do you think Father’ll recognise us?

  ANNIE: (Running.) He’ll tell me I’ve grown, and he’ll pick me up and throw me into the air, catch me under the arms and swing me high again –

  – but they are suddenly stopped in their tracks. A newly dug grave: a crude wooden cross, crooked in the ground.

  Oh, Sean!

  And they fall to their knees, wailing and keening.

  He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead.

  A MAN approaches, silhouetted against the setting sun.

  MAN: And what might you ragamuffins be wanting? ’Tis almost sundown. Is it a bed you’re after?

  SEAN and ANNIE are dumbfounded.

  Have you not got tongues in those heads of yours?

  SEAN: Do you not recognise us?

  Pause.

  ANNIE: Do you not know who we are, Father?

  And now the MAN is dumbfounded.

  SEAN: Father?

  Pause.

  MAN/FATHER: Annie? Sean?

  SEAN: And is it really you?

  They hug.

  You gave us a terrible fright. The grave.

  FATHER: Oh, for sure ’tis sad. ’Tis our old dog, Caitlin. She followed me back East and across the seas to Ireland to fetch you, and when you weren’t there she followed me all the way back West to California again. Worn out with living – died only last week.

  ANNIE: We thought it was you, Father.

  And the three of them hug some more.

  WOMAN’S VOICE: (Off.) Patrick O’Brien! Are you comin’ with that wood for the oven or aren’t you? Do I fetch it myself?

  FATHER: I’m comin’ – and bringin’ you something better than wood.

  The WOMAN – MOTHER steps into the setting sunlight, silhouetted.

  MOTHER: Annie? Sean?

  They are dumbfounded again.

  Is it you?

  SEAN + ANNIE: Mother?!

  MOTHER: Am I dreamin’?

  SEAN: Not unless we are – and we’re not dreamin’, are we Annie?

  ANNIE: I don’t know, Sean. If it is dreamin’, then don’t wake me up.

  And they all hug.

  MOTHER: It is a miracle! I thought you were dead.

  SEAN: And we thought you’d died too.

  MOTHER: A fine bunch of maudlin O’Briens we are.

  FATHER: I missed you by moments. I docked as your ship set sail for ’Merica. Your Mother was dying but waiting for me, and she told me about the English soldier and how he saved you, and when she got better, we followed you as soon as we could – but we got back here and never spied you on the way. We’d given you both up for dead.

  ANNIE: Dead? When we had the torc to protect us?

  FATHER: You still have the torc?

  ANNIE: It’s worked terrible hard to get us here.

  She reveals the golden torc in all its glory.

  MOTHER: And you too, my children, you must have worked terrible hard too.

  SEAN: Oh, we had others to help us.

  ANNIE: Yes: Fiddler Donnelly and Mr Blundell –

  SEAN: – and Miss Henry and Miss Martha, and Little Luke –

  ANNIE: – and the Colonel and –

  SEAN: – Seamus Finn…

  FATHER: And who might they all be?

  MOTHER: And where did you come by that old fiddle case, Sean?

  FATHER: And when did you two grow up so?

  MOTHER: And have you been washing your neck, Sean O’Brien?

  SEAN: Mother!

  MOTHER: Tell us all.

  Pause.

  SEAN: Well, ’tis a long story, Mother. A long, long story.

  And he takes out the fiddle and plays the heartiest reel and ANNIE dances, and MOTHER and FATHER too, and they all live happily ever after…

  The End.

  OTHER ADAPTATIONS BY SIMON READE

  Pride and Prejudice

  Jane Austen

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  The Scarecrow and His Servant

  Phillip Pullman

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  Not the End of the World

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  Private Peaceful & Other Plays

  (Private Peaceful / Aladdin and the Enchanted Lamp / The Owl Who Was Afraid of the Dark)

  Michael Morpurgo, Phillip Pullman, Jill Tomlinson

  9781840026603

  OTHER TITLES BY SIMON READE

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  Michael Morpurgo, Twist of Gold

 


 

 
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