1

BECAUSE YOU ARE MINE

DANIEL KEENE

Copyright C Daniel Keene 1994

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SCENES

Prologue
Act One:
1. They Say There’ll Be A War
2. Walking On Water
3. Night Comes Falling
4. The Dressmaker
5. Waifs And Strays
6. Burning Water
7. Neither Honey Nor Bee
8. Counting To Ten
9. One Life
10. The First Stone

Act Two:
11. You Have A Name
12. Empty Places: 1
13. Gifts And Losses

14. Empty Places: 2

15. A Young Boy Running
16. The Bridge
17. A Death
18. Because You Are Mine
19. Empty Places: 3
20. Whatever One Loves
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Because You Are Mine is a work of fiction.

The action of the play occurs during a single night, in an

unidentified city in South-Eastern Europe (the Balkans).

The time is the present day.

NOTES

i) Lisbeth, Hedi, Maria and Gunda wear the traditional Muslim head
covering.

ii) The Prologue and scenes Two, Four, Seven, Nine, Sixteen and
Twenty take place in a small ‘neutral’ area defined solely by light,
all surrounding areas in deep shadow.

iii) Scene titles might be projected directly above the playing area at the
beginning of each scene.

iv) Except where indicated, the action of the play is continuous.

v) In scene One Hedi quotes from The Book Of The Thousand Nights
And A Night, the one hundred and forty sixth night; translation
adapted from Richard F. Burton.

In scene Eleven Miriam quotes from Return (1967/68) by Yannis Ritsos;

translation by Edmund Keeley
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Because You Are Mine was commissioned by the Red Shed Company
and premiered at the Festival Centre, Adelaide, in September 1994.

Daniel Keene received The Jill Blewett Playwright’s Award for Because
You Are Mine at the 1996 Adelaide Festival Awards for Literature.
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CHARACTERS

Lisbeth (25)
Hedi (40)
Maria (30)
Fatima (35)
Miriam (30)
The Soldier (40)
Gunda (30)
Tibor (35)
Rachel (50)
The Boy (10, unseen)

Marta (25)
Kozma (40)
Yuri (45)
First Man
Second Man

.
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Of wars across Emathian plains, worse than civil wars,

and of legality conferred on crime we sing . . . .

Lucan
from Civil War

. . . the world bled around you as you called

stumbling across the frozen rubble
and then I was afraid, because you called me
into your darkness, and I followed you

Alison Croggon
from Divinations

hope is a song, the rhythm, the knocking waves breaking, the testament of
the drowned, the screams of ashes . . . .

Jaan Kaplinski
from The Same Sea In Us All
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PROLOGUE
WE WHO ARE THE DEAD

FATIMA, MARTA, RACHEL and MIRIAM speak directly to the audience.

FATIMA We who are the dead

would stay close by each other if we could,
beneath the spreading whiteness of the sky,
and we would yield to the quiet that endlessly surrounds us,
forgetting all the death we knew when we were living.

ALL But we cannot.

MARTA We who are the dead

beneath the empty whiteness of the sky,
would walk upon the frozen earth no longer;
and we would turn our faces from the blood that spilt around us,
forgetting all the death we knew when we were living.

ALL But we cannot.

MIRIAM There were nights when

the narrow streets
moved inside us:

RACHEL the passers-by,

and the shopkeepers talking,
their lights burning late;

MARTA then shutters closing for the night,

and the river and the leaves singing,
and the moon white above the houses . . . .

FATIMA If someone who was dreaming woke

a street away, we felt their weight,
turning inside us.

MIRIAM Tonight, a child is swinging on her gate;

RACHEL tonight, windows are frosted;
MARTA a woman strokes her lover’s face;
FATIMA a stone is falling down a well.
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RACHEL We who are the dead

would rest close by each other if we could;
we’d speak of days we knew before our murders,
and we would sleep at last without the dreams that haunt us,
forgetting all the death we knew when we were living.

ALL But we cannot.

MIRIAM We who are the dead

would yield to the quiet that surrounds us,
beneath the blank and pressing whiteness of the sky,
and we would fuse our hands and eyes and let our deaths consume us,
forgetting all the death we knew when we were living.

ALL But we cannot.

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ACT ONE

SCENE ONE
THEY SAY THERE’LL BE A WAR

A street. Early evening.

A high stone wall, the top of which cannot be seen, runs the entire length of the street. Protruding
from the wall at street level, a tap drips over an open drain. A few feet away, what appears to be a
body lies on the ground, covered with a white sheet. Long pause before:

LISBETH and HEDI enter. They carry empty metal buckets. HEDI places her bucket under the
tap; she turns the handle, but there is no water. She sighs, squatting beside the tap, and leaves the
bucket to collect the drips. LISBETH stands staring at the sheet covered body. After a pause:

LISBETH When did it happen?

HEDI This morning.
LISBETH Why hasn’t someone come for him?

HEDI shrugs. LISBETH turns and looks up at the wall.

LISBETH There’s only that one window.

HEDI That’s where he fell from.
LISBETH A fall like that . . . a person could survive, couldn’t they?
HEDI It depends on how hard the person was pushed.
LISBETH I wish you wouldn’t talk like that. It’s like you’ve got no feelings.
HEDI My feelings won’t make any difference. Not to him anyhow.

Tentatively, LISBETH raises the sheet a few inches and looks at the face of the corpse.

LISBETH He’s young . . . .

LISBETH carefully replaces the sheet, turns from the body and joins HEDI, putting her bucket
on the ground next to the tap.

LISBETH There were soldiers in my street last night.

HEDI Are you sure they were soldiers?
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LISBETH They went by in a truck. They had weapons, and uniforms I think. There’s no
lights in the street, since last Friday.
Pause
LISBETH Have you been listening to the radio?
HEDI I can’t get any batteries.
LISBETH They cost double what they did last week.
HEDI No one is saying very much anyway.
LISBETH The government are holding talks.
HEDI With who?
LISBETH Different groups.
HEDI They don’t even have names
LISBETH They have names.

MARIA enters. She also carries a bucket. She stops and looks at the body.

LISBETH He fell from the window.

Pause
HEDI Have you heard anything new?
MARIA Troubles are spreading.
HEDI That’s their nature.

MARIA turns from the body and joins HEDI and LISBETH.

MARIA People are beginning to leave the city.

HEDI It costs money to get out.
MARIA Maybe seven hundred. The price keeps changing.

MARIA puts her bucket down and looks at the tap.

MARIA It was working yesterday.

HEDI Here, you go first. You’ve got children to get home to.

HEDI removes her bucket. MARIA places hers under the tap. She squats next to HEDI and
LISBETH. There is a long pause before:

MARIA They say there’ll be a war.

The women sit together in silence as water drips into MARIA’S bucket.

After a long pause, softly:

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HEDI “And when I grow old and lean and can no longer run swiftly, he sells
me to the miller who makes me turn in the mill, and I cease not from
turning night and day till I grow decrepit. Then he in turn vends me to
the knacker who cuts my throat and flays off my hide and plucks out my
tail, which he sells to the sieve maker; and he melts down my fat for
tallow candles . . . .”

All the women look up as GUNDA and TIBOR enter and approach the tap. GUNDA carries a
hurricane lamp. TIBOR carries two buckets, one in each hand; he carries a few sticks of firewood on
his back, tied together with string. They come to a halt when they see the body. TIBOR greets the
women with a nod. GUNDA stares at the body.

TIBOR Does anyone know who it is?

MARIA No one knows anything about it.

TIBOR turns from the body and approaches HEDI.

HEDI The tap’s not working.

TIBOR looks into MARIA’S bucket.

TIBOR It was working yesterday.

HEDI I’ll have a bath if it rains. If not I’ll stink and go thirsty.

TIBOR puts his buckets next to LISBETH’S. He takes the bundle of firewood from his back and
sits on it, beside HEDI. GUNDA turns from the body, comes over and squats next to TIBOR.
She puts her lamp on the ground in front of them.

TIBOR looks across at the body.

TIBOR Have you looked?

HEDI You look.
LISBETH He’s young.
GUNDA Don’t look.
Pause
TIBOR Someone must know who it is.
LISBETH Someone knows. Who put the sheet there?
MARIA That doesn’t mean . . . .
HEDI What? You’d do that for a stranger?
GUNDA I would.
Long Pause
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HEDI Last week there were three bodies found near the railway station.
LISBETH There was a demonstration . . . .
GUNDA Tibalt was there, from next door.
MARIA There’s no newspapers, so how are we supposed to -
GUNDA Someone who was there is better than a newspaper.
TIBOR But then you only get one side of it.
HEDI Is it any different with newspapers?
MARIA You mean when we had them.
TIBOR And there were seven others, over by the bridge.
LISBETH They were in graves, but they weren’t covered.

Pause. GUNDA and TIBOR link hands; HEDI notices.

HEDI You two should get out. Now, while people still can. You’re getting married
some day.
TIBOR Maybe.
MARIA Everyone knows, ever since you were children . . . .
HEDI Leave. So you can have something for yourselves.
MARIA That dead boy there, maybe he had a sweetheart.
GUNDA Don’t talk about it.
LISBETH Well, he might have.
TIBOR Nothing’s going to happen to me, or to Gunda.
MARIA How can you be sure?
TIBOR I just know.
HEDI I hope you do know. (pause) I hope you do.
Pause
TIBOR They say there’ll be a war.

They sit together in silence for a long moment, the only sound that of the water still dripping
steadily into MARIA’S bucket.

SCENE TWO
WALKING ON WATER

FATIMA, alone. She speaks directly to the audience.

FATIMA When I was a child my family would spend the summer holidays on the
shores of a beautiful lake. It wasn’t very far from home. The water was
very salty, and it was shallow . . . all the way across.
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There were white shells along the shore. They were small and brittle. Once I
made a necklace of them as a birthday present for my sister. But I never saw
her wearing it. It was too delicate she said. I think it broke and she didn’t
want to tell me. She said she cherished it.

When I died, those white shells were the last thing I thought of. And I
remembered the lake. There were other . . . things . . . but they were . . . such
a long way off. But I could almost smell the lake, and I could feel those
shells, the way they crumbled in your hands if you weren’t very careful. It
was an odd, powdery feeling.

I’m glad I had time to remember. I’d seen other people die. For the most
part they died suddenly. They had no time to remember anything, no last
time just to themselves. There were people around them, needing them,
pleading for them not to die, or trying to stop them dying. Or death came
without any warning.

There were two women with me. I’d only been with them for a few hours.
We were told not to talk, so we couldn’t tell each other our names. One of
them was quite old. I’d been with groups of other women. We were always
being moved from place to place.

We were put into a truck and taken to the woods. There were three men.
One with a torch. One with a gun. And the third . . . he must have been
there only to watch.

I was so tired. When they pushed me out of the truck I stumbled and fell and
I didn’t want to move. But they wanted me to stand up.

We had to walk, away from the road. Though what difference it made I
still don’t understand. I’d seen bodies lying by the road for months, right
in the middle of town, and out there, in the woods, I couldn’t see how it
mattered.

I was the last to be shot. The others were dead before they hit the ground.

I’d never been so cold. I stood very still. They shone the torch in my face
and fired. I don’t recall any pain.

The bullet that killed me passed right through my chest. I was left where I
fell. It was very dark.
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It was all very quick. As if there was no time to waste.

But I remembered how it was . . . crossing the lake. In summer the water
was so warm, and you could smell it. You could walk all the way across
. . . really . . . it was . . . as if you were walking on water.

SCENE THREE
NIGHT COMES FALLING

A bare room, lit by a naked bulb. There is a barred window (the glass has been shattered) in one of
the walls. Outside, the sky is darkening. There is a table and a chair. On the table, face down, her
head turned to one side, a naked WOMAN. Her name is MIRIAM. She has a smear of blood on
her face. Seated in the chair, turned away from MIRIAM, is a SOLDIER, naked from the waist
down, his trousers slung over the back of the chair. There is a pile of clothes (MIRIAM’S) bundled
in one corner of the room.

After a long pause:

SOLDIER Are you cold?

MIRIAM Yes.
Pause
SOLDIER I have French cigarettes. You can have one.
Pause
MIRIAM Can I put my clothes on?
SOLDIER Not yet.
Long Pause
MIRIAM Are there other rooms like this?
SOLDIER Yes. (pause) No.
MIRIAM Please let me go.
Long Pause
SOLDIER You work for a living? I can tell you’ve had an education. I’ve got none.
My wife's got none. My brothers . . . they're all in business. I can go in with
them any time I like. I’ve got nothing against education. I went to school,
like everybody else.
MIRIAM Do we have to do this?
SOLDIER I want to talk. I don't get to talk to any one. Just the men in my company.
They always talk about the same things. About fucking. Or money. Or
politics. (pause) I want to talk.
Pause
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MIRIAM Why did you ask me if I was cold?

SOLDIER Why not?
MIRIAM I am cold. You can see that.
Pause
SOLDIER You’re very beautiful. You know that? And vain. Women like you are
always vain.
MIRIAM I think my nose is still bleeding.
SOLDIER Tilt your head back. Close your eyes. You look nice with your eyes closed.

He stands, pulls on his trousers and moves to the window, looking out. MIRIAM watches him.

SOLDIER It’ll be dark soon. (pause) There’s no place left to get a decent coffee any
more. You noticed that? Some place to go. To sit and talk. Among friends.
No one’s got any friends any more. Just family, maybe.
Long Pause
MIRIAM They say there’ll be a war.
SOLDIER Who?
MIRIAM People.
SOLDIER There already is a war.

He turns from the window and approaches MIRIAM. He strokes her, running his hand slowly
over her back and hips. MIRIAM remains motionless.

SOLDIER You are cold. You were hot before.

MIRIAM Please . . . .
SOLDIER Please what?
MIRIAM Don’t touch me any more.
SOLDIER But I like to.

He continues stroking her body. He speaks very quietly.

SOLDIER You’d be surprised how many of the men turned down this job. They were
allowed to. It was all volunteers in the end. (pause) We haven’t got the right
. . . system yet. (pause) At least I’m clean. There’s some who’d give you the
clap. But not me. I’m a married man. (pause) Imagine, a man like me . . .
and someone like you . . . . (pause) You and your kind . . . you’re so pure.
You won’t be any more. We’ll have a new country soon, and we’ll all be the
same. Maybe I’ll see you, on the street some day, when you’re swollen like a
fig and full of milk. What will you call your little bastard?
Pause
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MIRIAM You have to take me back. I heard. In the hallway. When we left. Someone
said, someone above you, you have to get me back before nightfall.
SOLDIER If I take you back. That’s up to me. There’s a place already worked out . . .
where I could leave you. (pause) You can put your clothes on.

MIRIAM slides off the table and moves quickly to her clothes in the corner. She dresses as fast
as she can. The SOLDIER watches her.

SOLDIER And fix my trousers.

The SOLDIER sits on the table and gestures for MIRIAM to button his trousers. She goes to him
and does so, awkwardly. The SOLDIER grins.

SOLDIER Maybe you’re better at taking them off?

Pause. MIRIAM does not look up at him.

MIRIAM (quietly) Fuck you.

He lunges towards her and grabs MIRIAM around the throat with both hands, slides off the table
and forces her to her knees, standing over her, pressing down.

SOLDIER How would you like me to fuck you this time? You tell me.

The SOLDIER releases her and throws her down. She lies motionless on the floor. The SOLDIER
walks away. He picks up his boots from under the chair and slips them on, then returns to the
window and gazes out into the darkened street.

SOLDIER Wipe that blood off your face.

MIRIAM licks her fingers and begins slowly wiping the blood from her face.

SOLDIER I can do whatever I like with you. I’ve got permission. (he laughs) I’ve
got a fucking order.
Pause
MIRIAM (quietly) You don’t have to obey orders.
SOLDIER Don’t I?
MIRIAM How can you be ordered . . . to do this?
Pause
SOLDIER Have you cleaned your face, like I told you?
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He turns and walks back to her, grabbing her face in his hands.

SOLDIER Here, let me help you.

He spits in MIRIAM’S face.

SOLDIER Now clean it.

MIRIAM slowly wipes her face. The SOLDIER walks away.

SOLDIER Last week I had this fucking hag . . . this hag old enough to be your mother.
And right under me . . . while I was fucking her, she shit herself. Like a little
baby. I had her face . . . right in my hands, and I could have squeezed her . . .
like a lemon. But I split her open. I banged her fucking senseless. I was
covered in it . . . and I fucking stank . . . with her fucking . . . fear.

Pause. MIRIAM stands, staring at the SOLDIER.

SOLDIER So, you’re brave.

MIRIAM I’m not brave.
SOLDIER An intellectual maybe.
MIRIAM I’m a student.
SOLDIER Of what?
MIRIAM Of history. Of poetry.
SOLDIER There’s no more history, no more poetry.
MIRIAM No. There is.
Pause
SOLDIER You . . . are poetry.

The SOLDIER comes close and begins to pull off MIRIAM’S clothes. He speaks as he does so.
MIRIAM stands frozen, yet her hands flutter around his, uselessly attempting to stop him.

SOLDIER I’m hard. I can already feel your cunt.

MIRIAM I can’t breathe . . . .
SOLDIER There’s a war. It’s only just beginning. Nothing will ever be the same.
MIRIAM Please . . . .

MIRIAM is now naked. She shivers. She covers her face with her hands. The SOLDIER turns,
walking a few steps away from her.

SOLDIER Get on the table. We haven’t finished.

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SCENE FOUR
THE DRESSMAKER

MARTA alone. She speaks directly to the audience.

MARTA I don’t know how I’m going to finish the dress. I can get cloth, but not the
right cloth. Slavenka is so particular. Ever since she was a little girl. I’ve
known her since then. Doesn’t she understand how difficult things are?
Where am I to get the right cloth? It’s for her brother’s graduation. But a
dress that colour . . . well it’s her decision. I wouldn’t be seen in that colour.
She sees things differently, she’s lived differently, I haven’t lived any way at
all, just the way all my family have lived since . . . forever. Why is it so hot in
here all the time? And it was cold before. Can I have something to drink?
I’m so hot. I can’t be ill. Just yesterday . . . what? I can’t hear you. Why
does everyone speak so softly here? There’s nothing wrong with me, why is
everybody saying there’s something wrong with me? I have a job to finish.
Slavenka wants the dress next week. Just yesterday . . . what? I wish you’d
speak up. Just yesterday I was telling someone that I make all my own
dresses. I wouldn’t trust anyone else. Where would they get the cloth? I
know the best places to go. Why am I bleeding? I’ve been bleeding for three
days. It’s not my period. Last week I had my normal period. Last week I
was . . . . What do you mean? Whose child? I’m not having a child. What
are you talking about? Who has lost their child? What’s it to do with me? It
happens every day and I’m sorry but . . . I have a dress to make and I have so
much work to do. I haven’t even bought the cloth . . . though what I’m
supposed to buy it with I don’t know, I was supposed to get some money in
advance, but Slavenka as usual forgot. Will you please get someone I can
talk to. Why is there no one? Will you please come closer, into the light
where I can see you. Why are there no lights here? I hate this . . . I don’t like
talking to someone that I can’t see. Are you trying to frighten me? You
won’t frighten me. I’m not easily frightened. What child? I have a job to
finish, so will you please . . . you’re frightening me . . . what child? Please. I
can hardly hear you. Whose child? Are you crazy? I haven’t lost a child.
I’ve never had a child. Why do you keep saying that? I can’t see you. Why
isn’t there a light? You keep saying, someone’s child has died. Who else?
Who was it that died? Tell me who died. The child died . . . and someone
else. But who else? Who else died? What did you say? Tell me who died.
Tell me who died.
SCENE FIVE
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WAIFS AND STRAYS

A street, littered with refuse and debris. A high stone wall, partly blackened by fire, runs along
its length. Against the wall, a large cardboard box stands on its side; it has plastic sheeting
spread on top, held down with stones. A tattered blanket is spread across the opening.
Darkness is falling.

RACHEL squats a few feet from the box. She wears a ragged head scarf and a long, filthy
overcoat tightened around her waist with a belt. She is peeling an apple with a large knife. She
peels the apple slowly, with great care. Now and then she glances over at the box. She
continues in silence for some time before:

RACHEL Do you have a name? Everyone has a name. If you don't have a name,
who can you be? You can't be anybody.
She waits some time for a response, but there is none. She finishes peeling the apple. She tucks the
knife into her belt.

RACHEL Do you like apples? I can eat it all myself. I don’t mind. (pause) I know
you’re watching me. I can feel you. (pause) Are you hungry? (pause)
Some people say I’m a witch. You believe in witches, don’t you? I do.
That’s how I know I’m not one. But who knows . . . maybe I’m wrong.

She moves to the box and puts the apple on the ground just outside the opening.

RACHEL It’s there if you want it. Apples don’t agree with me.

She moves away, idly picking through some of the refuse strewn about.

RACHEL You must have got in there soon as I left. I’m never gone very long.
Because I can’t trust anybody. Everything I’ve got is in there. Have you
had a look? Did you think no one was coming back? I always come back.
That means you don’t know me. You should know who someone is before
you move into their house. That box is my house. It’s the best I’ve had for a
while. Some don’t last. The blanket I already had, and the plastic. They’re
my luxuries.

She turns and looks at the box. After a pause:

RACHEL You can’t be very old. Ten maybe. I took a peek, before you woke up.
You were deep. A little puppy. I didn’t have the heart to kick you out.
 20

Maybe I should have. You should be grateful. (pause) I know you’re

listening.

She waits a moment, hoping for a response; when there is none she works away at the refuse again,
picking up objects and discarding them.

RACHEL I’ve had a few strays get in before. Cats mainly. Dogs now and then.
Vermin I don’t count. Do you want to be counted or what? Even a dog’s
got to have a name.

Pause. There is a murmur from the box. RACHEL moves closer.

RACHEL Did you say something?

She leans close to the box. She waits. There is another murmur. This time she hears (we do
not). She straightens up.

RACHEL That’s a good name you’ve got. Alexis (pause) Is that what people call
you, or have you got a private name . . . that just your friends know? I
should call you that. After all, you’re in my house. (pause) Do you have a
home Alexis? Did something happen there? Something bad? I know all
kinds of bad things are happening. The world is crazy. Like always. Men
killing each other and everybody else. And no one to stop it. And no one
to help. All around us there are other countries. Which one will help?
We’re poor. They’ve got nothing to gain helping us.

She looks down at the apple. After a pause:

RACHEL That apple wasn’t easy to get. Do you want me to leave it there so it
should rot? Are you ashamed to take it? Take it. I won’t look. I’ll pretend
a bird came down and took it.

She makes a show of turning away. She waits a few moments, then glances around at the apple,
which remains untouched. She kicks it into the box.

RACHEL There. Now eat.

She suddenly looks off, seeing someone approach. She squats down close to the box.

RACHEL (quietly) Stay quiet little mouse.

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RACHEL lowers her head, her eyes on the ground. She begins to gently rock back and forth on
her heels.

KOZMA enters. He wears a grubby black suit and a cloth cap. He sees RACHEL and approaches
her.

KOZMA You still here? I thought you’d have got moved by now.

RACHEL doesn’t respond or look up. She continues rocking. KOZMA looks around aimlessly. He
takes a cigarette butt from his jacket pocket and lights it.

KOZMA All I’ve got left is butts.

He finishes off the cigarette in a couple of puffs and flicks it away. He picks some tobacco off his
tongue. He spits. He turns to RACHEL.

KOZMA So how come you’re still here? (pause) I know you can talk, I’ve heard you.
(pause) You don’t need to be afraid of me. I’m not one of them.
RACHEL One of who?
KOZMA Who’re causing the trouble.

KOZMA walks close to the box, examining it. After a pause:

KOZMA Nice house you’ve got. Pretty soon we’ll all be living like you.
RACHEL Do you want to rent it, or maybe you’re buying?

KOZMA laughs.

KOZMA You’ve got a sense of humour at least. Like me. I can’t get along without it.

KOZMA leans down to open the blanket; RACHEL grabs it and pulls the entrance tightly shut.

RACHEL Do you always look into people’s homes, just like that?
KOZMA Just looking. No need to take offence.
RACHEL I won’t. And you neither.
Pause
KOZMA Do you like peaches? I know where I can get some. You’d have to have
something to trade.
RACHEL I like them. Anything sweet.
KOZMA What’s in that box of yours?
RACHEL I need what’s in there.
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KOZMA Might be something . . . .

RACHEL I’ve got nothing to trade. I don’t want any peaches.
KOZMA Suit yourself.
RACHEL I will. You too.
Pause
KOZMA Want some good advice? Don’t stay around here. Get out of the city.
It doesn’t matter where.
RACHEL Where are you going?
KOZMA I’m the kind that stays. No matter what.
RACHEL They say there’ll be a war.
KOZMA Depends. But even in war some people get along.
RACHEL The winners.
KOZMA There won’t be a winner. Not here. There’ll only be the ones who’re left,
and nothing will be any different.
RACHEL A real philosopher . . . .

KOZMA shrugs and walks away from the box. He looks up and down the street.

KOZMA Have you heard of any place I could get some cigarettes?
RACHEL No. You’d need money anyhow.
KOZMA How do you know . . . I might be loaded.
RACHEL You’ve got nothing.

KOZMA laughs again. He buttons up his jacket.

KOZMA Take my advice. Times will get a lot worse.

RACHEL So what do you care?
KOZMA An old bitch like you won’t last.
RACHEL I have so far. I could tell you things . . . .
KOZMA That’s . . . history.
RACHEL History doesn’t change. Even I know that.
KOZMA Maybe. But soon we’ll have a new one.

He turns to leave.

KOZMA (as he goes) A whole new history . . . .

RACHEL waits a few moments, then leans in close to the box.

RACHEL I’ve seen that one before. He comes by here now and then. He buys and
he sells. Nothing any good. Some people you can’t trust.
 23

She opens the blanket an inch or two and looks in.

RACHEL Don’t be afraid little mouse. I’m just looking. Only I should tell you . . .
later I’ve got to come in there. The nights are cold. The two of us will be
warm together. (pause) You go to sleep now.

She closes the blanket.

RACHEL And if you decide to eat that apple . . . you might leave me a piece.

SCENE SIX
BURNING WATER

The street. The tap. It is growing dark. Water is dripping into a bucket.

TIBOR is standing near the body. He has placed his few pieces of firewood around the edges of the
sheet, to hold it down. He smokes a cigarette, looking off into the dark. He speaks quietly.

TIBOR All day I was wondering . . . what if it’s tonight? What if they decide,
tonight, to come into my street? You see, I’m not very brave. A brave
man would know what he’d do. In my case, I have no idea. So I was
hoping that it wouldn’t be tonight, because that would give me some
more time. Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up and know. I’ll wake up from a
dream and I’ll know something for certain.

He turns away, finishing his cigarette. As he throws it down, KOZMA enters behind him.

KOZMA Hey, don’t waste that!

TIBOR turns to him. He grins.

TIBOR I didn’t, believe me. I’ve been waiting all day to smoke that cigarette.
KOZMA Was it your last?
TIBOR I’m afraid it was.
KOZMA (sotto) Shit . . . .

KOZMA comes up beside him and looks down at the body. He shakes his head.

KOZMA I heard all about it.

 24

TIBOR Did you?

KOZMA Everyone’s talking. Not just about this one either.
TIBOR There’s a lot of talk.

KOZMA squats next to the body. He picks up a piece of the firewood.

KOZMA This is okay. Do you think he’d miss it? I haven’t got as much as a
matchstick at home.
TIBOR I can’t imagine you going short of anything.
KOZMA Things are difficult right now.
TIBOR Even for you?
KOZMA We could go half and half.
TIBOR No . . . I couldn’t.
KOZMA He doesn’t need it.
TIBOR It’s holding down the sheet.
KOZMA So?
TIBOR So if we take the wood, the sheet might blow away.
KOZMA That’s true. (pause) So?
TIBOR It wouldn’t be right.
KOZMA It’s right for you and me to be cold?
TIBOR It wouldn’t make much of a fire, even if one of us took it all.

KOZMA replaces the wood and stands.

KOZMA It’s a waste, that’s all.

TIBOR Yes. I suppose it is.
Pause
KOZMA You sure you haven’t got another cigarette?
TIBOR No. Sorry.
Pause
KOZMA I know where I can get hold of some peaches. Cost you a pack of cigarettes
for three.
TIBOR I don’t have any. Are the peaches fresh?
KOZMA Still got leaves on them. And wrapped, you know, in yellow tissue paper.
TIBOR I can’t. I’ve got nothing to trade.
Pause
KOZMA It’s too bad. A nice juicy peach . . . .

KOZMA goes to the tap and looks down into the bucket.

KOZMA This yours?

 25

TIBOR Yes.
KOZMA Mind if I . . . ?
TIBOR Not too much.

KOZMA lifts the bucket and drinks. TIBOR watches anxiously.

TIBOR Not too much. Please.

KOZMA puts the bucket back under the tap and wipes his mouth.

KOZMA That tap was working yesterday.

TIBOR comes over to KOZMA. They lean against the wall together.

KOZMA How are you and that girlfriend of yours?

TIBOR Okay.
KOZMA What’s her name?
TIBOR Gunda.
KOZMA That’s it. (pause) You know her father was a Jew?
TIBOR Yes, I knew that.
KOZMA I’m just saying . . . .
TIBOR Yes, I know.
Pause
KOZMA You getting married?
TIBOR We want to.
KOZMA Then go ahead. Because who knows what’s around the corner, eh? A man
and a woman who want to get married should do it, that’s what I think.
You’ve got nothing to lose.
TIBOR I didn’t think you took an interest.
KOZMA Everything interests me.
Pause
TIBOR What else have you heard?
KOZMA There’s going to be a war.
TIBOR Did you happen to hear who was going to win?
KOZMA No one knows who’s fighting yet. (pause; he spits) Factions. Everything is
going to the shit.
Pause
TIBOR They’re going from house to house. A different street each night.
KOZMA Who are?
TIBOR Some . . . faction. They don’t have any . . . you know (he taps his shoulder), they
don’t have any signs.
 26

KOZMA Insignia.
TIBOR No insignia. That’s what I’ve heard.
KOZMA So where’s the fucking army? What do we have a fucking army for?
TIBOR They might be soldiers, these . . . factions.
KOZMA But not regulars. The regulars are loyal.
TIBOR It depends . . . .
KOZMA They’re loyal, I’m telling you.
TIBOR To who?
KOZMA Who do you think? Eh? The same old vermin, that’s who. (pause) There’s
been trouble before. It’ll blow over, like always.
TIBOR What’s happening is different.
KOZMA It’s the same trouble, the same as always. This fucking country . . . .
TIBOR Something is worse.
KOZMA Read history. I’ve read history. It’s always the same. One against the other.
TIBOR I don’t think so . . . .
KOZMA The fucking Jews . . . the Muslims . . . or Catholics, or some fucking politics
no one gives a shit about. Or it’s money that wipes people out. Always
some reason. Once there were Kings here, all kinds of Kings. They had
countries no bigger than a farm. They bashed the shit out of each other.
TIBOR I’ve read history. At school.
Pause
KOZMA So who the fuck knows anything?
TIBOR It’s different this time.
Long Pause
KOZMA It’s a shame about that wood. You sure you don’t want to . . . ?
TIBOR No. (pause) Everything is different this time.

SCENE SEVEN
NEITHER HONEY NOR BEE

MIRIAM, alone. She speaks directly to the audience.

MIRIAM Already it’s dusk;

the sky is lemon coloured.

The bee is honeymaking,

the sap rises in the stem.

A leaf opens just born.

I’ll not know again
 27

the honey nor the bee.

I often walked here,

on these pale stones

washed and worn by rain.

I won’t walk here again.

The leaf will curl and fall,

the sap will dry.

Already it’s dusk.

I’ll not know again

the honey nor the bee.
Long Pause
We’d lost count of the days, of the weeks. It no longer mattered.

To be allowed to sleep mattered, to be allowed a cup of water, to be allowed

to go to the toilet, or to open the window for some air.

We were moved from place to place. Sometimes there were many of us, twenty
perhaps, or only two or three.

Women came and went. Some we saw only once. They were murdered, or
taken to another place. We heard about the camps, where the men were kept.
At first we didn’t believe what we were told. Later we believed everything.
They told us things to frighten us.

All of us were raped. Sometimes every day for a week. Perhaps only once
each day. More often it was several times. Then for days on end . . .
nothing. As though we had been forgotten. We heard nothing. Saw no
one. Then it would begin again.

I don’t remember the men who raped me. I can’t remember how many. At
first I tried to remember. I wanted to remember. I thought it was important.
I looked at their faces and I tried to remember them. I thought it would be
important later. I thought there would be a later. I thought something would
be done.
 28

There were about a dozen of us at the end. We’d been together only a few
hours. We were strangers. All of us had come from different places. We only
had time to tell each other our names and where we had lived.

The room we were in was dark. There were no windows and no light. We
were taken out one at a time. Two men came into the room with a torch. They
picked one of us and took her outside.

I was taken out second from last. There was a long corridor, with no lights. I
felt my way. One of the men was walking in front of me, the other behind. The
one in front had the torch. But I couldn’t see my way. I kept bumping into the
wall.

At the end of the corridor a door opened on a large room. The room was very
brightly lit. The other women were lying on the ground, their bodies in a neat
row, face down, their heads touching the wall. The floor was covered in their
blood. The man behind me put one arm around my chest, pulled me to him
and cut my throat.

SCENE EIGHT
COUNTING TO TEN

A sparsely furnished office. There is a desk, a filing cabinet, and two swivel chairs. Two large flags
bearing the symbols of the International Red Cross and the Red Crescent hang on the wall above the
desk. The room has a single window. The window has been covered with boards. The desk lamp is
burning.

FATIMA sits at the desk. There are a number of files in front of her. She opens each one in
turn, brings it close to the lamp, reads quickly down the front page and puts it aside, picking up
the next, until she reaches the last file. This takes some time.

Some distance away, in semi darkness, YURI sits across the desk from FATIMA. He waits silently,
very still, watching her, his hands folded in his lap.

When FATIMA has opened and read the last file she finally looks up at YURI.

FATIMA No. I’m afraid not.

YURI It was last Friday.
FATIMA Yes, you said.
YURI I think . . . near the railway station.
 29

FATIMA I’m afraid -

YURI It could have been somewhere else. People say so many different things. It’s
hard to know for certain. But everyone says there was trouble near the
station.

FATIMA closes the file she is still holding and puts it with the others.

FATIMA It will be dark soon.

YURI There were three other boys, local boys, they were at the station. I spoke to
one of them. He told me he thinks he saw Jan, but he wasn’t certain. He’s a
good boy. I haven’t been able to find the other two.
FATIMA Can you move into the light please.
YURI Pardon?
FATIMA Come into the light . . . I can’t . . . .
YURI I’m sorry.

YURI moves his chair closer to the desk. His face is lit.

YURI Is that better?

FATIMA Yes, thankyou.
YURI You have bad eyes?
FATIMA I’ve broken my glasses. It’s difficult without them.
YURI Yes.
Pause
FATIMA There aren’t many lights in this street. We should both leave soon.
YURI Yes, of course. But shouldn’t we -
FATIMA There really isn’t much more I can do. You might try -
YURI I’ve tried. Everywhere. Since Friday . . . I haven’t seen my son. He is
only sixteen. But he thinks he’s a man. You must help me find him.
Pause
FATIMA Yes.
Long Pause
YURI I don’t like walking in the dark either. Not any more.

FATIMA stands and opens the filing cabinet. She takes out a large unsealed envelope. She sits
back at the desk, holding out the envelope to YURI.

FATIMA You can look at these.

He stands, takes the envelope and sits down again, pulling his chair a little closer to the light.
 30

YURI What are they?

FATIMA Photographs.
YURI Photographs?
FATIMA The people in the photographs have not been identified.

He down looks at the envelope but does not open it.

FATIMA There was no way of identifying them.

Pause
YURI Dead people?
FATIMA Yes.

YURI is still staring down at the envelope. He strokes it gently with his open hand. He does not
open it.

YURI Sometimes I think . . . if I close my eyes . . . and count to ten . . . I won't

have to look for him any more. He'll be home, sitting beside me. And I
won't have to look for him any more.
FATIMA Please . . . .
Pause
YURI (quietly) All right.

YURI gently opens the envelope and takes out the photographs; there are about a dozen of then, all 8
by 10. He looks at each of the photographs for a few moments before slipping it to the bottom of the
pile. He handles them with great care. He spends the same amount of time on each photograph.
FATIMA watches him.

When YURI has finished looking at all the photographs, he places them back in the envelope and
puts it on the desk.

FATIMA He isn’t there?

YURI No.
Pause
FATIMA Are you sure?
YURI Yes.
FATIMA I’m sorry you had to look at them.
Pause
YURI I’ve seen one of the girls. But I don’t know who she is. She used to buy
vegetables at a stall near the barber’s shop. I’d see her every Saturday.
I’ve always gone for a shave on Saturday. I’ve known the barber since I
was a little boy. He’s an old man but . . . his hands are still steady. He
 31

might have known who she was. (pause) The shop’s been closed a few
months. I don’t know where the old man went. One day . . . he was just
gone.

The desk lamp begins to flicker on and off. FATIMA and YURI watch it until it goes out and the
room is plunged into darkness.

FATIMA I have some candles.

She rummages for a few moments in one of the desk drawers, finally taking out a candle stub.
She then searches in the drawer for matches, but can’t find any. YURI stands and moves to the
desk.

YURI It’s happening all the time now. There are no lights in my house any more.
No water either.

He takes a box of matches from his pocket and lights the candle, cupping his hand around the
flame.

FATIMA Do you have any cigarettes?

YURI takes a crushed pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offers it to FATIMA. She takes
one, as does YURI. They light them by the candle flame. YURI sits back in his chair. After a
pause:

FATIMA You may never find your son, or know what happened to him.
YURI I know that. (pause) Tell me how is it possible that what is happening is
happening?
FATIMA What is happening?

There is a rapid knocking on the boarded window. YURI looks to FATIMA: she shakes her head and
quickly blows out the candle. The knocking ceases a long moment, then resumes. FATIMA and
YURI are silent. The knocking stops again. FATIMA and YURI remain silent and motionless. The
door is rattled, but it’s locked. There is a long pause. When FATIMA and YURI speak again, it’s
in hushed tones.

FATIMA I don’t answer after dark.

YURI They would have seen the candle.
FATIMA I don’t think so.
YURI It could have been someone looking for help.
FATIMA The office hours are displayed by the door.
 32

Long Pause
YURI Somehow it feels safe . . . sitting in the dark.
FATIMA The power will come back on. It always does.
YURI Every day something different. No one knows anything any more.
Pause
FATIMA We should go soon.

Long Pause. YURI stands and strikes a match; he looks to FATIMA. She nods that it’s safe to
light the candle again. He does so.

YURI This is an old city, an old country. (pause) I have no proper education. But
I know the stories of this place. They were told to me. Since I can
remember.

He settles back in his chair.

YURI I don’t know history the way a professor might, in some college. But this is
my home. I’ve never been far from here. I know my neighbours, I know
their names, and their children. I know who built my house, I know . . . the
stones in my house. (pause) Something is happening, something terrible.
There are killings. There is fear. We have no government. We have no laws.
There are soldiers everywhere. But from what army? We all speak the same
language, but what are people saying? There are questions now, always.
What religion are you? What do you think of this man? What do you think
of that one? Are you political? Suddenly . . . there are only enemies. (pause)
My son is a student. I’m proud of him. But what does he talk about? Things
I can’t understand, with words I don’t know. I’ve tried to understand. I’m
not a fool. (pause) I know the stories of this place. I know . . . who I am. But
I cannot understand what is happening.

The desk lamp flickers back on. FATIMA briefly shields her eyes against the light. After a pause:

YURI I must find my son. I’ll ask him all the questions I have that nobody will
answer.
FATIMA I wish there was more I could do.
Pause
YURI I’m sorry. There’s been no one . . . my wife . . . .
FATIMA She’ll be waiting for you.
YURI She doesn’t want to talk.
FATIMA We should go now.
YURI She didn’t want to come. My brother’s there. He’ll stay until I get back.
 33

FATIMA Can you walk with me?

YURI There’s nothing else . . . ?
FATIMA If you find the other boys who were at the station you could bring them here.
We’re still unsure about what happened.
YURI There was killing. There’s killing everywhere.
Pause
FATIMA We must go now.

She stands and places the envelope of photographs back in the filing cabinet. YURI stands. They
pause a moment, finishing their cigarettes and stubbing them out on the floor.

FATIMA Walk with me. Together we’ll be safe.

FATIMA switches off the lamp and approaches YURI. She takes his arm.

FATIMA I don’t live far from here. We’ll talk.

YURI Yes. I’ll get you home.

She turns and blows out the candle.

Together, they leave the office.

SCENE NINE
ONE LIFE

RACHEL alone. She speaks directly to the audience.

RACHEL I could have been a black dog. I could have been. Instead I was me.
Woke up one night, in the middle of the night, I was a black dog. Went
back to sleep. Woke up again. I was me again. Could have been a black
dog though. Happened more than once. Woke up in the night and I was
other things. All kinds of things. A dog, a horse, a rat. Could have been
anything. Instead I was me. This is me. Been dirty, been cold, been hurt.
Been mad. I went mad. Nobody saw, nobody knew. I crawled away. I
went somewhere. I hid myself away. That’s where I died. There was a
war. People killed each other. I heard it all around me, howling. Death
howls. I heard it. Can’t hear it now. I’m not mad now. I’m just dead.

Once I had a box I lived in. The box was in a street, the street was in a
city. I lived there a long time. I saw people going past. And I saw
 34

children. A child. I saw a child. He told me his name. He was afraid. I

held him one night. I held him close to me, like he was mine. He wasn’t
mine.

But I couldn’t live in that box any more. I went away. Could already feel
myself . . . changing. Voices. Heard them. Visions. Saw them. Visions
of things. And under my skin things crawling. A cat, a mouse, a snake, a
bird. I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t help it. I couldn’t tell, couldn’t say,
couldn’t speak at all then. Just went quiet, just one day I went quiet and I
never spoke again.

The box isn’t there now. The street isn’t there. The people are all gone.
The child’s gone.

Went to the river. Going mad. I saw things. I’d seen things. They were
visions. I thought they were visions. They must have been.

Crawled to the river. The river was filthy. There was blood in the river.
And people. And some of the water was burning and black smoke was
coming up off the burning water and the black smoke was like a great
black kite going up.

Down at the river I went to the old storehouses, the old stone ones, because
I knew they were empty. I only liked empty places. I was always afraid,
afraid for days and days and days. Never been so cold as that time and
everything crawling inside me and all my voices crying crying crying.

I could hear things. I could hear the water burning. I thought it must be the
water burning, but how could it be the water burning?

I got down, got right down on the ground, right down into the ground
behind the wall, my hands digging and tearing, the skin was tearing away
and I could see the blood and I wanted to be a dog, I tried to be, I tried to be
a dog, with claws, a mole, a rat, some animal, I tried to be anything but me.

Then I heard the sky, the sky was moaning. And the ground twisted under
me and a black, a black stone, a black hot stone fell against my eyes and
everything fell around me, the wall and the sky fell around me, and I
couldn’t hear, I couldn’t hear a sound, I couldn’t hear anything and I was
burning, my feet were burning, my back, my arm, this arm, this hand, this
 35

skin, these nails, and the filthy stink of my burning clothes burning all over
me . . . .

Something fell inside my head and burst open something fell and burst open
like blood bursting somewhere inside my head and I heard I heard the fire I
heard someone screaming an old woman screaming all the voices screaming
in my head they were crying crying crying and my hair was on fire sounding
like dry leaves burning a thousand dry leaves burning.

SCENE TEN
THE FIRST STONE

The street. The tap. The body and the firewood around it remain. It is quite dark.

GUNDA enters, walking quickly, holding a lantern and a bucket. MARIA follows a few paces
behind; she supports LISBETH, who staggers, her bloodied hands pressed to her face.

MARIA Here, here . . . .

MARIA comes to a halt by the tap, sitting LISBETH on the ground.

MARIA (to GUNDA) Put it under . . . put it under . . . .

GUNDA puts the bucket under the dripping tap; she stands by the other two, her lantern raised.
MARIA pulls a handkerchief from her inside pocket and wets it a little. She gently pulls
LISBETH’S hands from her face and starts cleaning a wound on her forehead. LISBETH winces.

GUNDA Where did it happen?

MARIA Near the barracks.
GUNDA What was she doing there?
MARIA It doesn’t matter.
GUNDA It’s dangerous. She should have known better.
LISBETH They were just boys.
GUNDA What were you doing there?
LISBETH I’d lost my way.
GUNDA How could you lose your way?
LISBETH It got dark so quickly.
MARIA She can tell us later.
LISBETH They were just throwing stones.
GUNDA Throwing stones at the barracks?
 36

MARIA We mustn’t stay here.

GUNDA looks around nervously.

GUNDA No. We shouldn’t be on the street.

MARIA continues to clean LISBETH’S forehead. LISBETH chokes back a sob.

MARIA (to GUNDA) Why were you out alone?

GUNDA I was on my way home.
MARIA Where’s that boyfriend of yours?
GUNDA He wasn’t with me. My cousin, Kristina, is having a baby soon. It’s her
first. She sent a message to come over. She’s started bleeding again.

MARIA has finished cleaning LISBETH’S wound. LISBETH gently feels her forehead.

LISBETH Will I have a scar?

MARIA I don’t think so.

LISBETH takes a few deep breaths and relaxes, leaning back against the wall.

LISBETH I wanted to do something . . . about that boy there.

They all look across at the body.

LISBETH I found the Red Cross office. I thought I saw a light, but the door was
locked and no one answered. I waited . . . but there was no one. (pause) I
didn’t know what to do. I just wanted to get away from there. (pause) I
started running. And it was so funny, but all I could think about was my
sister’s wedding . . . the way we ran after them when they drove away . . .
after the reception, all the way down the street, my cousins and my
brother . . . all of us laughing and running . . . and I started to laugh.
(pause) I came to the barracks. There weren’t any lights. I saw these boys
. . . they were only boys . . . throwing stones at the windows. I could hear
the glass breaking. They were all laughing . . . the way I’d been. (pause) I
stopped and they saw me. (pause) Then the first one threw a stone at me.
Then another. Then all of them started throwing stones at me. And they
weren’t laughing any more.

She puts her hands up to the wound again; MARIA takes LISBETH’S hands in hers.
 37

GUNDA We should go.

MARIA You go. It’s all right. I’ll take her home.
GUNDA I’ll come with you.
MARIA (to LISBETH) Can you?

LISBETH nods and stands up. With MARIA supporting her, LISBETH starts to walk. They
leave, GUNDA walking ahead with the lantern.

LISBETH I’ve been gone so long. And there’s no water at home . . . .

They leave together. After a few moments, KOZMA appears. He walks towards the body, stopping
next to it. He glances over his shoulder and then up at the departing women. Quickly, he gathers
the firewood that’s holding down the sheet. Once he has all the wood, he pauses, then he pulls the
sheet back. He looks down at the face.

KOZMA What are you looking at? The cold won’t bother you.

He turns from the body and moves off quickly, the firewood bundled under his arm,
and the stage slowly darkens.
 38

ACT TWO

SCENE ELEVEN
YOU HAVE A NAME

A large hotel room, stripped of all furniture and fittings: a pile of grey blankets in one corner, a
white sanitary bucket in another. A bucket of water stands in the centre of the room, a ladle resting
against the rim. There is a single door and a large window. The window is partly covered with
boards. Outside it is pitch dark. The room is brightly lit by a single bulb.

MARTA is sitting on the sanitary bucket, urinating. She has a blanket wrapped about her
shoulders. When she has finished, she has nothing with which to wipe herself. She stands, replacing
the lid of the bucket.

She goes to the door and stands listening for a few moments. She moves to the water bucket, dips the
ladle and drinks. She sits on the floor, her back against the wall.

Footsteps are heard approaching in the corridor outside. They stop at the door. MARTA stands.
The door is unlocked and swings open.

MIRIAM steps into the room. The SOLDIER stands behind her. He says nothing. He pushes
MIRIAM a little further into the room. She stumbles but remains upright. There is a large smear
of blood on the side of her face.

The SOLDIER leaves, pulling the door shut and locking it behind him. His footsteps slowly die
away.

MIRIAM does not move. MARTA grabs a blanket from the pile in the corner and places it around
MIRIAM’S shoulders. After a pause:

MARTA (nervously) The whole time you were gone I was trying to remember
your face. Because we didn’t talk very much before, and your name . . . I
couldn’t think of your name. But I was remembering your face.

MIRIAM remains silent; she sways slightly on her feet. MARTA fetches a ladle of water. She
puts the ladle to MIRIAM’S lips, but MIRIAM does not drink.

MARTA I’ve been so afraid.

 39

MARTA puts the ladle back in the bucket. She turns to MIRIAM.

MARTA You’ve been hurt. You have some blood -

MIRIAM I’ve been raped. (pause) He raped me. He’s raped other women. They all
have. They’re going to keep doing it. He was gloating about it. They’re
going out in trucks. They need trucks now. They take ten, twenty women at
a time. There are places like this room all over the city. (pause) They’re
raping Muslim women. They’re going to keep doing it. (pause) They’ll rape
you. Tonight. Or tomorrow, they’ll -
MARTA Stop!
Pause
MIRIAM I’m sorry. (pause) I’m sorry.

MIRIAM walks slowly across the room, clearly exhausted. MARTA watches her. From now on
there is a growing panic in MARTA’S voice.

MARTA What someone says, whatever he said . . . there are all kinds of rumours.
MIRIAM (quietly) It’s happening.
MARTA What’s happened to you is . . . I don’t understand . . . .

MIRIAM sits on the floor, pulling the blanket tightly around her.

MARTA is unsure what to do; she approaches MIRIAM, then backs away. She moves about the
room throughout the following, becoming more agitated.

MARTA While you were gone . . . I’ve been thinking. (pause) Who knows anything?
Maybe the politicians. But where are they? Off somewhere, trying to sort
things out. While here everything falls to pieces. (pause) In my street there
was a fire, just a few days ago. No one came to put it out. Does that mean
there’s a war? Everyone is saying there’s going to be a war. (pause) I have a
friend, she’s very intelligent, she says the government is unstable. There
have been too many changes, too quickly. A lot of it is economic. Nothing’s
certain. There are forces . . . all kinds of forces . . . she explained it to me . . .
it’s to be expected until the right . . . balance is found. There are groups.
Political and religious . . . ethnic groups. These groups -
MIRIAM (shouts) Stop it! Please stop!

Long pause. MARTA takes a few more paces around the room; finally approaching MIRIAM.

MARTA (quietly) Please. I’m just -

 40

MIRIAM Did you understand what I just told you?

Pause
MARTA Yes.
MIRIAM There’s a civil war. It’s only just begun. We’ll be raped. (pause) No one
outside the city knows what’s happening. When they do know, they’ll do
nothing. We’re alone. (pause) You aren’t listening to me.

MARTA has walked away and is staring from the window. She turns to MIRIAM.

MARTA When you were here, before he came for you, you wouldn’t speak. I saw
the way you looked at me. Like a person looks at an animal. I saw it!
Because I’m only a dressmaker -
MIRIAM They’re taking women from all over the city.
MARTA I’m not good enough for you.
MIRIAM What?
MARTA Usually I don’t care about people like you. I feel sorry for you. You’re the
ignorant ones. Now you think you know everything. You think what’s
happened to you will happen to me.
MIRIAM They’re taking Muslim women.
MARTA I know people like you . . .
MIRIAM Why would I tell you -
MARTA . . . always political . . . .
MIRIAM Why would I tell you if it weren’t true?

MARTA says nothing. With difficulty, MIRIAM gets to her feet.

MIRIAM I didn’t speak to you because I was afraid. We’re together. We’re the same.
You and I are -
MARTA We’re not the same.
MIRIAM Why can’t you see what’s happening? Please listen to me.
MARTA Why should I?

Rapid footsteps approach along the corridor outside. MIRIAM and MARTA fall silent. They turn
to the door as it swings open.

FATIMA and YURI stumble into the room. They stand dazed. YURI’S face is covered with blood;
he clutches his left arm close to his chest. FATIMA supports him. The door quickly slams shut
behind them and is locked.

Long Pause and Blackout

 41

Later:

YURI sits slumped on the floor by the water bucket; MIRIAM holds a ladle of water to his lips
and he drinks. He is in pain, still clutching his arm.

MARTA is making up a bed, spreading some of the blankets on the floor.

FATIMA stands at the window, looking out into the darkness.

MIRIAM Your arm’s broken I think.

YURI Since Friday I’ve been everywhere. His mother’s waiting. She gets so
quiet when something worries her.
MIRIAM We can bind it, we’ll find something.
YURI She hasn’t spoken. She hasn’t as much as looked at me.

MARTA comes over and helps MIRIAM get YURI to his feet. With difficulty, they move him
to the bed MARTA has made. He keeps talking through all of this.

YURI And such thoughts have gone through my thick head that I think
sometimes I was going to go crazy, only . . . I know I’ll find him. So I didn’t
yet. I didn’t go crazy.

They settle him gently on the blankets.

YURI There’s a young girl . . . I told Janni about her. . . across the street from the
barber shop, she comes every Saturday to the market there. I told him how
nice I thought it would be if he could meet her.

MARTA kneels beside YURI and tries to make him comfortable. MIRIAM crosses to FATIMA by
the window.

YURI He didn’t want to, a young man like him, it’s not modern he said, he said I
shouldn’t be thinking like that. But I couldn’t help it. She was so pretty.
MIRIAM What happened?
FATIMA Three men. They were armed.
YURI He never saw her.
MARTA Try to rest.
FATIMA They’d followed us a little way from the office . . . the Red Cross, where I
work.
YURI A young man like Janni, his whole life ahead, and she was so . . . pretty.
 42

FATIMA We turned onto the square and they came up from behind. They took us
down a side street. It was dark.
YURI I saw her picture at the Red Cross. She died.
FATIMA Then we came across these others. They were rivals of some kind. Some
rival soldiers. Are they, soldiers? About a dozen of them.
YURI She died . . . .
MARTA All this will be over soon.
YURI Yes, it will all be over soon.
FATIMA The street was narrow. We couldn’t pass.
MIRIAM What about the men you were with?
FATIMA I’d say they were frightened. Everyone was frightened.

YURI finally relaxes and closes his eyes. MARTA covers him with a blanket.

MIRIAM looks across at YURI.

MIRIAM Why did they hurt him?

FATIMA The ones we came across, these rivals, he thought he knew one of them,
but it was so dark. He said something, asking for help I think. As soon as
he came close . . . the man he’d spoken to spat in his face and punched
him. He fell, and the man smashed his arm with the butt of his rifle.
(pause) Then they let us pass. The three with us . . . seemed relieved.

MARTA leaves YURI and joins the other two by the window.

MARTA His arm needs to be set.

MIRIAM (bitterly) Ask them outside. Knock on the door. I’m sure they’ll help.
MARTA Should I?
FATIMA No.
Pause
MIRIAM I’m sorry.
Pause
FATIMA Do you know what’s happening?
MARTA She says there’s a war. And other things.
FATIMA What things?
MIRIAM Did they . . . did they touch you?
MARTA She says we‘ll all be raped.
Pause
FATIMA (to MIRIAM) Have you been raped?
MIRIAM Yes. (pause) He told me . . . how they’ve been doing it.
Pause
 43

FATIMA What is your name?

Pause
MIRIAM Miriam.
FATIMA My name is Fatima. We must know each others’ names. We must
remember them.

Blackout.

Later:

MARTA sits on the floor, dozing beside YURI, who stirs fitfully in his sleep. MIRIAM and
FATIMA are standing by the door. FATIMA leans close to the door, listening. After a pause:

MIRIAM Can you hear anything?

FATIMA No.
MIRIAM Someone must be there.
FATIMA I don’t know.
Pause
MIRIAM “The statues left first. A little later
the trees, people, animals. The land
became entirely desert. The wind blew.
Newspapers and thorns circled in the streets.
At dusk the lights went on by themselves . . . . “
Pause
There’s more, but I don’t . . . .

MIRIAM turns away, lifting her hands to her face; she sways. FATIMA supports her.

FATIMA Miriam . . . .
MIRIAM I’m just so tired.

FATIMA leads MIRIAM to the pile of blankets and sets her down gently. MARTA stirs, leaves
YURI and goes to them.

MARTA What happened?

FATIMA She fainted.
MIRIAM I didn’t faint. I’d like some water, just some water.

MARTA fetches a ladle of water. MIRIAM drinks.

MARTA I knew she was sick. In her eyes. Since she was brought back.
 44

MIRIAM Get her away from me!

MARTA backs away.

FATIMA (to MARTA) Something terrible has happened to her. Do you understand
that?
MARTA Everything is mixed up. Bad things are happening. But it won’t last. People
are not animals. I don’t want to be afraid like this.
FATIMA You have to listen . . . .
MARTA Who are you or her to tell me anything? I know what happened to her. You
think I don’t believe her? I do. I’m sorry for her. But I won’t be afraid!
MIRIAM Then don’t be!

MIRIAM throws the ladle across the room. YURI has woken. He struggles to sit up. He looks
around the room, still heavy with sleep, still in pain.

YURI What? What’s happened?

MARTA goes to him. YURI wants to sit up properly; MARTA helps him into a comfortable
position.

YURI I was dreaming about all of you. I don’t even know your names.

FATIMA joins MARTA at YURI’S side.

FATIMA I’m Fatima.

MIRIAM My name is Miriam.
YURI I feel so helpless.
FATIMA For the moment we’re all helpless.
YURI You’ve helped me. We can help each other. That’s the most important
thing. We have to remember that.

FATIMA moves quickly to the door; she leans close against it.

FATIMA Listen!

Footsteps approach. The door is unlocked. The SOLDIER enters the room, leaving the door open
behind him. He now wears a side-arm. He looks around at all of them. MIRIAM gets to het feet.
After a pause:

SOLDIER One. Now.

 45

The SOLDIER approaches FATIMA.

SOLDIER You.

MIRIAM blocks the SOLDIER’S path. The SOLDIER stares at her.

MIRAIM What you’re doing is a crime.

SOLDIER (laughs) Are you a lawyer?
YURI We’ve done nothing! We’ve committed no crime.
SOLDIER You think you’re being punished for something?
MIRIAM Yes. For who we are.
SOLDIER You’re no one. You don’t exist.

The SOLDIER walks over to the bucket and takes some water in his hand; he drinks. The others
watch him. He crosses to the window and looks out.

SOLDIER Tell me about these crimes.

FATIMA There will be people who will know what you’ve done.
SOLDIER Which people? What will they know? Who will tell them?

MARTA slowly stands and cautiously begins to approach the SOLDIER.

MARTA Please. It’s just that we don’t -

MIRIAM You’re as afraid as us.

The SOLDIER turns to MIRIAM.

SOLDIER Afraid of what?

MARTA Yesterday . . . everything was the same as always.
MIRIAM I could feel it. That’s what frightened me.
MARTA It’s just that we don’t understand.
SOLDIER What am I afraid of?
MIRIAM Of what’s happening, of what you’re doing.
SOLDIER (turning suddenly to MARTA) What don’t you understand?
MARTA Someone like me . . . I’m a dressmaker. I go to people’s houses. They talk.
There’s so much talk. I don’t want to listen. What’s it to do with me? But
all this . . . I don’t understand and I can’t . . . I can’t think what you’re doing
. . . what they say you’re doing . . . it’s nothing to do with me.

The SOLDIER moves very close to MARTA. She falls silent. He strokes her face.
 46

SOLDIER (quietly) Someone will come for you. You’ll be taken somewhere. You’ll be
screwed. You’ll be brought back here for a while. Then you’ll be screwed
again. Until we’re finished with you.

There is a sudden loud knocking on the door. The SOLDIER pushes MARTA aside and approaches
FATIMA.

YURI (struggling to his feet) You pig!

The SOLDIER turns from FATIMA and approaches YURI.

YURI I am a man like you. A man knows what is wrong, or to me he is no man.

This is wrong. Who has told you to do this? Who is making you? Is it
politics? No, it is not politics. How could it be? What can you gain? Is it
war? What kind of war is it when a man turns on his own people? Is that
war? My son . . . he talks, he has ideas, he makes me dizzy, he says there
are laws, that laws are made by politics and sometimes even by war . . . that
war is politics . . . but I tell him that there are laws inside you, I have told
him, laws . . . inside every person, laws we are born with, all of us. But they
are not written down, not anywhere, they are not laws made of stone, but
made by people, in their hearts, that have no names, and that we know
cannot be broken. We know! If there’s the same blood in us all, there are
the same laws. And you are breaking them, you’re breaking . . . everything.

YURI is suddenly spent, breathless. The SOLDIER is gazing curiously at him. MARTA moves
quickly to YURI’S side. The SOLDIER pushes her away. After a pause:

SOLDIER Some speech. Really.

He moves even closer to YURI.

SOLDIER I’ve heard people talk. They talk to sell you something. Or to convince
you how clever they are. But you’re not clever.

He reaches out and takes hold of YURI’S injured arm, twisting it.

SOLDIER This is the law.

YURI cries out in pain. The SOLDIER forces YURI to his knees then pushes him over with his
foot. YURI lies curled in a ball. The SOLDIER turns and walks towards MIRIAM
 47

SOLDIER Maybe I should pick you again.

MIRIAM You’re afraid.
SOLDIER And you’ve become very brave all of a sudden

The SOLDIER takes hold of her and spins her around. He shoves her hard against the wall. He
presses up close behind her.

SOLDIER I’ll have you right here. In front of them. In front of the speech maker.
Would you like that?
FATIMA Stop! I’ll go. Leave her.
SOLDIER (to MIRIAM) I’ll come back for you.
FATIMA I’ll go with you.

The SOLDIER backs away from MIRIAM. She slumps to the floor. There is a loud, rapid
knocking on the door again.

SOLDIER (shouts) All right!

He approaches FATIMA. MARTA takes hold of his arm, talking rapidly.

MARTA I’ve lived in the same street all my life. I don’t know these people. I’ve
never been arrested. I don’t listen to gossip. People know me. I’m trusted.
I’ve heard terrible things. I was brought here. I don’t know why -

The SOLDIER pushes her away and she falls to the floor. He stands over her. She tries to get up.
He pushes her down with his foot.

SOLDIER You think I give a shit who you are?

FATIMA Leave her alone!

The SOLDIER squats down beside MARTA, gripping her face between his hands.

SOLDIER I’ll arrange something special for you. Someone as stupid as you needs an
education. They’ll line up to fuck you, ten at a time.

The SOLDIER releases MARTA and slowly straightens up. He looks around at YURI, at
FATIMA and MIRIAM, then at MARTA, who stares silently at the floor. He shakes his head.

SOLDIER No one cares who you people are. No one cares what you’ve done or
haven’t done.
 48

There’s another loud, rapid knocking at the door. MIRIAM gets to her feet.

MIRIAM (quickly) Your brothers . . . you told me. I remember.

SOLDIER What are you -
MIRIAM You have a wife. You like drinking coffe in the evening. You go to cafes.
This city is your home, it’s our home. (losing control) And you raped me
(screams) You raped me!

MARTA has stood up and walks slowly about the room.

MARTA This room . . . before . . . this hotel . . . it was expensive. The best people
came here. On the street outside sometimes . . . I saw the cars . . . the people
in them. They lived a different life . I couldn’t come into this room. It
must have been a fine room . . . .

MARTA stands staring blankly. YURI struggles to stand up.

The SOLDIER takes hold of FATIMA and pushes her towards the door.

SOLDIER I’ve wasted enough time.

FATIMA turns to MIRIAM.

FATIMA Fatima.
MIRIAM Miriam.

FATIMA looks at YURI. He stands very straight.

YURI My name is Yuri.

FATIMA looks at MARTA, but MARTA says nothing, standing as if in a daze. The SOLDIER
opens the door and shoves FATIMA out, then exits, slamming the door behind him. The door is
locked.

After a pause, MIRIAM walks slowly to the door. She stands listening for a few moments, then
turns and walks away.

Suddenly MARTA runs to the door, beating her fists against it.

MARTA (yells) Marta . . . my name is Marta!

 49

She slowly collapses, sliding to the foot of the door. YURI moves slowly towards to her.

MIRIAM turns from the door, walks to the corner, kneels down, removes the lid of the sanitary
bucket, grips the rim for support, and begins to convulse. She vomits.

Blackout

SCENE TWELVE
EMPTY PLACES: 1

Slowly the stage brightens.

The Red Cross office is deserted.

The desk lamp is burning, its shade tilted to throw light onto the walls. The drawers of the filing
cabinet and the desk, and all their contents, are scattered over the floor.

There is a long silence.

The stage darkens quickly.

SCENE THIRTEEN
GIFTS AND LOSSES

The street is empty. The tap drips. The breeze ruffles the edges of the sheet covering the body. A
reddish glow fills the sky; throughout the scene this glow increases in intensity, until the street is
bathed in red light. Distant, sporadic reports of gunfire are also heard throughout. There is a long
pause before:

HEDI enters. She carries a lighted candle. She shields the flame with her hand. She stops by the
tap, carefully placing the candle on the ground. From the tap, she gathers a little water on her
fingertips and wets her lips.

HEDI (quietly) I am not afraid. I’m not afraid . . . .

She sits on the ground by the tap. She glances at the body, then turns away. After a few
moments, she takes off one of her shoes, in the toe of which she keeps a tight wad of money; she
takes it out, unpicking the notes, and she counts them.
 50

HEDI Hedi, if you get any richer you’ll have to buy a bigger pair of shoes. If I
could find a pair. But then you wouldn’t be rich any more, what with the
price of shoes now. The richer I get the more I’ll have to limp, the more I
limp the poorer I’ll look, the poorer I look . . . .

She finishes counting the money.

HEDI There’s not enough here to buy a peach. (she laughs quietly) Anyhow, if you
ever got rich enough to buy anything . . . you wouldn’t be able to walk.

She stuffs the money back into her shoe and puts her shoe on. She pulls her clothes tight
around her and looks up and down the street.

HEDI I’m cold. What does he think, you’ve got your whole life to wait? (pause)
Maybe I’m stupid. That doesn’t seem right. You were always smart.
Smarter than the next one. But who can tell what can happen to a person’s
mind? Maybe you’re crazy. (pause) I am not afraid . . . .

She sees someone coming and quickly blows out the candle.

After a pause, KOZMA appears, carrying a torch. He shines it first on the body, then across the
wall. He finds HEDI. She shields her eyes from the light.

KOZMA I didn’t know if you’d wait.

HEDI I didn’t. I’ve been back and forth three times.
KOZMA There are fires all over. The station’s burning.
HEDI Have you got a train to catch?
KOZMA Maybe I should have.
HEDI Did you bring what I asked?
KOZMA It wasn’t easy.
HEDI If it was easy, I would have got them.

He joins her by the tap.

KOZMA Did you bring the money?

She takes her money from her shoe and unfolds the notes, holding them out; KOZMA shines his
torch on them.

HEDI So long as the price hasn’t changed.

 51

KOZMA For you it’s the same as I said.

HEDI What about somebody else?
KOZMA The situation keeps changing. I charge according to that.
HEDI I’m asking just out of interest.
KOZMA What’s easy one day is hard the next. There’s no telling.
HEDI Show me.

KOZMA takes two D size batteries from his pocket; he shines the torch on them.

KOZMA The size you asked.

HEDI Are they new? The new ones come in a packet.
KOZMA These don’t. You want them or not?
HEDI It’s not cheap.
KOZMA Then find someone else.
HEDI I don’t trust anybody. Not even you. But I know you.

KOZMA and HEDI exchange the money and batteries. KOZMA carefully counts the money;
HEDI tests the batteries, putting the tip of each to her tongue.

KOZMA What do you want them for? Just out of interest.

HEDI They’re for Lisbeth, for her radio.
KOZMA She got hurt.
HEDI How do you know?
KOZMA It’s my business to know. If she needs anything . . . .
HEDI She just needs to rest.
KOZMA I can get her some nice peaches.
HEDI Peaches?
KOZMA Something sweet.
HEDI She likes to listen to the radio. She’s got Short Wave.

There is a sudden burst of gunfire, much closer. KOZMA pockets the money and moves away a
little, looking up and down the street.

KOZMA The whole place has gone to hell. (pause) The thing is . . . there’s nothing on
the Short Wave. I’ve been listening. The border’s less than a hundred miles
from here. And over the border . . . no one gives a curse.

HEDI stands, carefully hiding the batteries and the candle in her clothes, then she joins
KOZMA.
 52

HEDI And if they gave a curse, these other places, what would they do? When an
animal turns on its young, there’s nothing anyone can do but kill the animal.
And if the animal dies what happens to its young?
KOZMA Politics is different.
HEDI Is it politics that’s killing people?
KOZMA You don’t understand.
HEDI I understand what I see.
KOZMA Someone’s coming . . . .
HEDI (looking off) It’s Maria.

MARIA enters quickly. She is agitated and out of breath.

MARIA Hedi . . . have you seen Gunda?

HEDI Only when was here, with Tibor.
MARIA Do you know where she is now?
HEDI No.
MARIA It’s her cousin Kristina. She might be losing her baby. She wants Gunda.
HEDI Is the midwife there?
MARIA She can’t do anything. The doctor said he was coming an hour ago, but he
hasn’t shown up. He was at the hospital . . . fifteen minutes he said.
Kristina’s sister, Ulrike, she ran there and back, she said there was trouble
at the hospital, some people, in a bus, there was an explosion on a bus,
there was blood everywhere she said, she said there were a lot of people
shouting and -
HEDI Maria. Maria, it’s going to be all right. A woman is having a baby . . . . .
MARIA Kristina’s so frightened. It isn’t good for her to be so frightened. It’s her
first. Gunda promised she’d be there. Ulrike’s looking too, she’s gone the
other way
KOZMA Towards the station?
MARIA Kristina’s house isn’t far from there.
KOZMA I know where it is, I sold her mother that nice tablecloth.
MARIA Is something wrong?
KOZMA There’s trouble at the station. Real trouble. There are fires and shooting.
MARIA We saw the smoke. There’ve been so many fires.
HEDI Ulrike will see what’s happening. Gunda wouldn’t be at the station either.
MARIA I have to keep going. There’s only the midwife . . . .
HEDI That’s enough.
MARIA Hedi . . . you go.
HEDI What can I do?
MARIA You know about these things.
HEDI No more than you.
 53

MARIA I have to find Gunda. Kristina knows you.

KOZMA Have you tried Tibor’s place?
MARIA He’s not there.
KOZMA He’s been acting strange. Depressed. I’m just saying what I think.
HEDI No one cares what you think. Go with Maria if you want to be useful.
KOZMA What about you?
MARIA Hedi?
HEDI I’ll go to Kristina’s.
MARIA Promise me.
HEDI I promise. But I won’t be able to do anything.
MARIA Please hurry.
HEDI I’ll hurry. You be careful.

MARIA kisses HEDI and leaves quickly; KOZMA looks at HEDI, shrugs his shoulders and follows
after MARIA.

HEDI Kozma.

KOZMA stops and turns to her.

HEDI Don’t try to sell her anything.

KOZMA clasps his hands over his heart.

KOZMA Not even peaches?

He laughs and continues after MARIA.

HEDI looks up and down the street.

HEDI (quietly) I am not afraid . . . .

She quickly sets off, in the opposite direction.

SCENE FOURTEEN
EMPTY PLACES : 2

Slowly the stage brightens.

The bare room (scene 3) is deserted.

 54

The chair lies on its side. Water is dripping onto the floor from the surface of the table.

The bare light bulb swings gently on its cord. Shadow swims on the walls.

There is a long silence.

The stage darkens quickly.

SCENE FIFTEEN
A YOUNG BOY RUNNING

The street; the tap; the body.

By the wall, GUNDA and TIBOR stand in each other’s arms.

TIBOR I was trying to decide how long I would wait.

GUNDA How long?
TIBOR All night.
GUNDA Until morning?
TIBOR Yes.
GUNDA And if I hadn’t come?
TIBOR All day.
GUNDA But you knew I’d come.
Pause
TIBOR Do you have any money?
GUNDA A little.
TIBOR You didn’t bring anything else?
GUNDA You said not to.
TIBOR I’ve got what I saved. It’s not much. (pause) Someone took my wood.
GUNDA Your wood?
TIBOR The firewood. I left it here, to hold down that sheet.
GUNDA Were you going to sell it?
TIBOR (he shrugs) There was barely enough to boil water.
Pause
GUNDA I didn’t say anything, to anyone.
TIBOR It’s best if no one knows.
GUNDA I didn’t even tell Kristina. She’s expecting any day now. I promised I’d
be there for her.
TIBOR Gunda, if you don’t want to . . . .
 55

GUNDA I do . . . but I’m afraid.

TIBOR So am I.
Pause
GUNDA There are soldiers on the bridge.
TIBOR I know.
GUNDA How will we get past?
TIBOR We’ll just walk . . . as if nothing was the matter.
GUNDA What if they stop us?
TIBOR We’ll just tell them we’re leaving. That I . . . have work somewhere. That
we’re going to be married. That we are married.
GUNDA But what if -
TIBOR They’ll believe us. They’re just like us.
Pause
GUNDA I’m afraid.
TIBOR So are they.
Pause
GUNDA Everything might change tomorrow.
TIBOR What if it doesn’t?

TIBOR kisses GUNDA and strokes her hair. After a pause:

TIBOR Yesterday I saw a young boy. He was running. I was at the window and
he ran by. I don’t know where he was going, I’ve no idea why he was in
such a hurry. But his face . . . it’s so clear I can see it now . . . his face was
so bright, so alive. He was about ten, maybe. Something good had
happened, to him, or maybe to someone he loved. Someone had come
home, or someone who’d been lost was found, or someone had sent long
awaited news . . . and the boy was running as fast as he could. He was
going to tell someone. I saw him, for just a few seconds, and when he was
out of sight I heard him, I heard his feet on the stones . . . and I felt just like
him, I was him, I was running just like him. (pause) You and I are running
away. And we mustn’t let anything stop us. (pause) In a minute we’ll
walk away from here and we’ll go to the bridge . . . .
GUNDA People have died there.
TIBOR We’ll step on to the bridge and we’ll walk across.
GUNDA The river’s wide there. When we were young, remember we used to -
TIBOR We’ll walk across as though nothing were the matter.
GUNDA But everything -
TIBOR And when we reach the other side . . . we’ll run.
Pause
GUNDA I can run.
 56

TIBOR We run.

She kisses him.

Blackout.

SCENE SIXTEEN
THE BRIDGE

MIRIAM, alone. She speaks directly to the audience.

MIRIAM The bridge is made of iron. It’s very high, and it’s narrow.

There was a checkpoint halfway across. The soldiers let them pass. It
didn’t seem to matter. One of the soldiers wished them luck.

They walked slowly. They didn’t speak. There was nothing but the
bridge, nothing but the sound of their footsteps, echoing, and the water
beneath them.

They’d reached the end of the bridge when the gunfire started. They
didn’t know where it was coming from. They ran. They turned off the
bridge and made for some trees on the bank, close to the water. Under
the bridge they’d be safe.

She was hit first, in the shoulder. She stumbled. He supported her. She
cried out. Then he was hit. The bullet passed through his neck. He fell,
pulling her down with him. Perhaps he was already dead. She threw
one arm around him before she was hit a second time.

The fire wasn’t coming from the bridge. The soldiers who’d let them pass
were lying flat on the roadway, covering their heads. They didn’t know
what was happening.

The lovers were dead before the firing stopped. Some days later the
bodies were recovered.

Darkness.
 57

SCENE SEVENTEEN
A DEATH

The hotel room is in darkness.

What now happens, happens very quickly:

The door swings open and two men enter; dark, featureless shapes, they wear black balaclavas and
carry lengths of iron pipe. The FIRST also carries a torch. He shines it around the room, which
appears to be empty, until he finds YURI, alone, crouched low in a corner. The two men approach
him, the SECOND kicking and pulling him from the corner. YURI cries out in pain. He
stumbles to his knees in the centre of the room; with one hand he clings to the bucket of water for
support. The FIRST man steps close to him, shining the torch in his face.

YURI turns his face from the light, lowering his head.

FIRST Get your head up, lift your fucking head!

YURI stares blindly into the light.

SECOND Watch out.

The FIRST man takes a step back, keeping the torch on YURI’S face. The SECOND man raises his
length of pipe and brings it down with force on YURI’S skull. The bucket of water tips over and
spills as YURI collapses.

The FIRST man keeps the torch on him as the SECOND man continues to beat YURI about the
head.

Blackout.

SCENE EIGHTEEN
BECAUSE YOU ARE MINE

RACHEL has crawled into the box with the young boy. She softly chants a children’s rhyme.
Throughout the scene distant, sporadic gunfire can be heard.

RACHEL Little one, little one

where were you born?
In the dark forest
 58

under a thorn.
Tell me a story,
tell me no lie,
little one, little one
How did you die?

After a pause, RACHEL crawls from the box. She stands at the entrance and looks up and down
the street.

RACHEL I died in a raindrop

big as the sea,
I fell on the earth
and the earth swallowed me.

She gathers some refuse into a small pile.

RACHEL You sleep, little one. Sleep’s best. You might dream. A dream’s like a little
fire burning. (pause) I don’t dream no more. There was never much warmth
in mine. But you sleep . . . .

She takes out a box of matches and sets the refuse alight. She warms her hands.

RACHEL Maybe I am a witch. You could ride on my back.

There is a burst of gunfire. RACHEL looks up.

RACHEL Sky’s red. It’ll be black soon. (pause) I had a dream once, and the whole
world was yellow, even the sky . . . the colour of a lemon. The only thing
that wasn’t yellow was this one fig tree. The figs were ripe and green and
so sweet you could smell them on the branches. The tree was big, and in
the night the figs burned like lanterns, and everyone came and sat under
them . . . in the sweet light . . . .

She starts suddenly, looking down the street. She stands and quickly kicks out the fire. She climbs
back into the box, pulling the blanket shut. There is a long pause.

The SOLDIER enters, pushing FATIMA in front of him. He now carries an automatic rifle slung
over his shoulder. A little way from the box, FATIMA comes to a halt and turns to the SOLDIER.

FATIMA I’ve seen you. (pause) You live on Market Street. Somewhere on Market
Street. I’ve seen you with your wife. (she pauses, then speaks rapidly) I
 59

noticed your wife, she’s spoken to me, we met at the hospital once, I was
working there, she was visiting someone, she was carrying flowers, I said
something to her about the flowers and we talked for a while . . . .
SOLDIER What difference does it make? We’re wasting time.
FATIMA I remembered your wife because of the flowers. I saw you. You were
talking. Carrying things . . . shopping. Your wife had her arm in yours.
There were people, on the street, there were people talking, you knew the
people around you, on Market Street, I saw you . . . .you fucking . . . animal!

The SOLDIER slaps FATIMA and knocks her to the ground; he throws off his rifle and kneels
beside her.

SOLDIER You know me, do you? But you won’t. Soon you won’t know anything.
(pause) I’m not an animal. The animals are waiting for you. I can hear
them panting. (pause) I heard a story . . . you want to hear a story?

FATIMA tries to lift herself from the ground; the SOLDIER pushes her down again, holding here
there.

SOLDIER A soldier in my company, a boy, about eighteen . . . he had the same job as
me. Fucking bitches like you. He didn’t like it though. He said it made him
sick, sick in his stomach, and in his balls, and he couldn’t do it any more. So
he told them, he told those pricks who tell us what to do. So they said okay,
they’d give him another job . . . at least he thought it was another job. They
sent him to a room, it was a small room, in the basements under the train
yards. Two officers went with him. In the room was a woman. The boy
knew the woman. She used to live in the same block of flats. He’d even
taken care of her kids a couple of times. When he came into the room, she
just looked at the boy. The officers told him to rape her. He said that he
couldn’t.

FATIMA struggles to free herself from the SOLDIER’S grip, but he holds her down, still going on
with his story.

SOLDIER They asked him again. He refused. They slapped him around, they broke
his nose, and then they asked him again. And this time even the woman
asked him. She said it didn’t matter, that she was afraid he’d be killed if he
didn’t, that she knew he didn’t want to, that there was something . . . good in
him still, that she forgave him, but that if he didn’t . . . .(pause) He wouldn’t
do it. So the officers pinned him down and one of them took out a razor and
cut off the boy’s cock.
 60

The SOLDIER finally releases FATIMA. She rolls on the ground, away from him. He is
breathless. He waits a moment, the moves on his knees towards her. As she tries to get up, he
pushes her to the ground, face down, and begins to strip off her clothes. He is about to rape her.

RACHEL crawls from the box and stands half crouching. She moves quickly. She draws her knife
and plunges it into the SOLDIER’S back. He stiffens and tries to turn. RACHEL pushes him to
the ground and slashes his throat with one stroke. She stares down at him as he convulses; her
hands are covered with blood. FATIMA staggers to her feet, pulling on her clothes. RACHEL slips
the knife back into her belt. She turns to FATIMA.

RACHEL Go. Go now!

FATIMA stares down at the dead SOLDIER. RACHEL picks up his rifle; she holds it out to
FATIMA.

RACHEL You want this? Woman! You want it?

FATIMA No.

RACHEL throws the rifle to the ground. She moves quickly back to the box, opens the blanket an
inch or two, checks the boy, then turns back to FATIMA, who remains standing over the body.
There is another burst of gunfire, closer now.

RACHEL You have no time. The man is dead. Go.

FATIMA does not move; she stares at RACHEL. RACHEL draws her knife again and
approaches FATIMA.

RACHEL I’ll kill you just as easy. Go.

FATIMA Where will I go?
RACHEL Go to the river. Cross the river.
FATIMA The river . . . .
RACHEL Go to the storehouses. The old ones. The stone ones. I’ve been there. No
one goes there. Stay there. Then cross the river.

FATIMA takes a step towards RACHEL; RACHEL fends her off with the knife. FATIMA backs
away; she looks towards the box. RACHEL steps between FATIMA and the box.

RACHEL What’s in here is mine.

Pause
FATIMA Come with me.
 61

RACHEL I can’t come with you. I have . . . things here.

FATIMA You can’t stay here. We’ll be safer together.
RACHEL We won’t.

FATIMA is trembling. She pulls her clothes more tightly about her. She suddenly begins to
shiver violently, her whole body shaking.

FATIMA Oh god oh god oh god . . . .

RACHEL steps closer to FATIMA; she reaches out and gently touches her hair.

RACHEL You run. It’s dark. You run now.

FATIMA leans her head against RACHEL’S hand. RACHEL pulls away. After a pause:

FATIMA Thankyou.

FATIMA waits a moment, then turns and quickly leaves.

RACHEL watches to make sure FATIMA has gone, then moves back to the box, and leaning close
to it, whispers:

RACHEL Little one . . . don’t wake. Not yet. We’ll wait, then we’ll go. In a little while
. . . we’ll go somewhere.

She looks over at the dead SOLDIER. She moves back and kneels beside him.

She tears a chain and medal from around the SOLDIER’S neck and tosses it away; she goes
through his all his pockets; she finds his wallet and empties it on the ground; she takes the little
money that’s there and stuffs it into her coat pocket; she pushes the rest, and the wallet, into the
ashes of her fire; she gets down on her hands and knees and blows on the ashes until the fire begins
to glow.

She stands up. She wipes her blood stained hands on her coat over and over again. Her breathing
has become laboured.

She turns and stares for a long moment at the body of the SOLDIER.

She turns away quickly and begins pacing up and down beside the body, suddenly panic stricken.
She starts pulling frantically at her clothes and her hair.
 62

RACHEL (rapidly) He’s killed. Don’t look. Blood everywhere. His tongue’s in it.
She’ll tell them. I don’t know her. I never saw her. I’ve got blood on me
now.

She stops pacing and drops down to the fire. She pushes her hands into the glowing ashes and
holds them there. She groans and throws back her head. She pulls out her blackened hands and
stares at them. She slowly rubs them together.

RACHEL Blood burns. Just the smell of me burning now. A witch.

She stands and moves back to the box. She pauses a moment, then opens the blanket a little and
looks inside.

RACHEL My puppy. Go back to sleep. Nothing . . . nothing but the dark outside. It’s
all dark now.

She crawls into the box, pulling the blanket shut behind her. After a pause, we hear her voice,
chanting softly:

RACHEL Little one, little one

where were you born?
In the dark forest
under a thorn.
Tell me a story,
tell me no lie,
little one, little one
How did you die?

SCENE NINETEEN
EMPTY PLACES: 3

Slowly the stage brightens.

The Hotel room is empty. The blankets and the two buckets are gone. There is a large, dark water
stain in the centre of the room.

Of its own accord, the door of the room swings open, slowly and soundlessly.

There is a long silence.

 63

The stage darkens quickly.

SCENE TWENTY
WHATEVER ONE LOVES

MIRIAM alone. She speaks directly to the audience.

MIRIAM Later, the child would remember the woman. He would remember the
smell of her in the dark and the sound of her voice. People who heard his
story would ask him if was he afraid of her. He would always answer no,
he wasn’t afraid.

He travelled with the woman for several days and nights. They slept in
abandoned houses, they ate what they could find. She grew stranger as the
days passed. She tied him to her with a length of rope. She forgot to feed
him. Finally, she no longer spoke to him. She left him on a street corner
one evening, about nightfall.

He was taken in by the Red Cross. For a month or more he didn’t speak, he
didn’t utter a sound.

When he finally spoke, he asked about his family. No one could tell him
anything. The house where he had lived was empty.

He spoke about the woman. He said she was a witch and that he had
ridden on her back.

He never knew her name.

But he knew the woman loved him.

She moves a little closer to the audience as, very slowly, the light begins to fade.

I know that Kristina’s child was born, that Hedi was there to help as she
had promised, and that the child was named Gunda.

I know that Maria and Kozma were lost and never seen again.

I know that Marta never made the dress that so worried her, and that
Yuri never found his son, nor his son his father.
 64

I know that someone will remember us.

And I know that the most beautiful thing in the world is whatever you
love. If the dead could speak, they would tell you what they had loved.
There would be nothing else to tell.

We who are the dead exist in another place, but in the same time as you.
Time is what holds us together. This is our time.

I am holding you to my breast, and I am saying that I am yours.

Darkness.