Andr J.

Kershaw
Bianca Ludik
Christen Torres
Dean Erasmus
Jane De Wet
Royn R. Murray
DRAMA !RACT"CAL
A##"$%ME%T
The stage: in the centre toward the back of the stage is a large white couch. White birds are hung from
the ceiling all around the room. A black bird cage hangs in the centre of the room. Inside the cage is a
single black bird. The actors begin on the couch in different positions. Christen begins playing the
violin and the prologue starts.
Prologue (written by Andr Kershaw):
Andre: Innocence. The past. The ideal version of reality we created siply because we
could.
!ean: "e danced in the rain# sang songs we didn$t %now the words to and loo%ed at the
world through a lens of na&ve awe.
'ane: In utter wonder of the world around us we spent our days shinning with the sun and
whispering with the wind.
(obyn: )efore the sun blinded us# before the wind blew us away*.we shan$t forget it.
)ianca: "hen %now how we felt# when we were beautiful# and everything else was too.
+hristen: "e %now what we had and what we now crave. ,ore than anything else we$d love
to sile again.
Andre stands# wal%s forward and begins his poe. !irecting his poe to christen.
Andres poem (she walks in beauty by Lord Byron):
She walks in beauty, like the night
f cloudless climes and starry skies!
And all that"s best of dark and bright
#eet in her aspect and her eyes!
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
ne shade the more, one ray the less,
$ad half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
r softly lightens o"er her face!
Where thoughts serenely sweet e%press,
$ow pure, how dear their dwelling&place.
And on that cheek, and o"er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet elo'uent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
(ut tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent)
,oveent lin%: bird sounds
All actors search around the roo and ta%e a bird hanging fro the ceiling. -nce all actors#
besides christen have found their birds# they coe together and lift christen to grad a bird.
+hristen then oves to the front of the stage and begins her onologue. The other actors
for a sei.circle around her facing the bac%.
Christens monologue (Azra al Jamal rom the play at her eet)*
#y name is +ara. It means unpierced pearl. It means that I am untouched. #y name is for something
pure and unsoiled. #y name is A,ra Al -amal, and I have .ust been killed. I have sat in the middle of a
circle of forty men, and I have .ust been killed. I have felt my body break in different places, and
pieces of bone scrape through skin, because there have been eighty hands throwing countless rocks
at me for some time now. I have felt my mouth bleed softly against sand, dry enough to make me
choke, too thin for me to clutch.
#y name is A,ra Al -amal and I have .ust been killed.
(ecause I spoke to man who was not my father/brother/uncle/cousin, and now my
father/brother/uncle/cousin has taken rocks and flung them, knocked me unconscious, smashed my
teeth, made me scream and beg and say, 0I didn"t mean to1, but I did mean to, and my intention
doesn"t matter now, because I have no honour. And I have no voice. And it is as though my name, my
name, A,ra Al -amal means nothing, because I have been ground into the sand. 2ow, curled up in
and awkward ,ero, I am circling my own end. It"s hot, and although it is midday, all I can see is night.
(ent over, half way between prayer and nausea, I have been tracing the patterns of the desert sky for
hours now. I have watched the stars, seen their geometry, heard them moan an%iously down at me,
and felt my insides impload with every hard hitting blow. I have forgotten my name, so I ask you to
remember it.
And somewhere 3 between voices shouting angrily and hands saving me from a worse fate in the
afterlife 3 I know that it is still light. I remember that it is a clear day 3 which the sun is hanging
persistently at the back of my neck, that light is pouring in over secrets. (ut there are no shadows, or
doorways to hide in, that sharing words, using breath to make sounds, letting a voice come through
the folds of the cloth, is not allowed. It is a clear day. Anyone who walks by now can see what is
happening to me.
4o you remember my name5
After last line all actors inhale. The e%hale to throw birds at christen. Christen falls to the floor. All
actors begin breathing heavily while christen picks birds up off the floor. Christen hands birds to -ane
and stands ne%t to her. All actors inhale.
,oveent lin%:
-nce christen is finished actors turn to face her and /stone0 her with their birds. As the actors
throw their birds they ove into the centre# christen fall bac% and is lifted by dean. Actors
collect their birds and ove bac% to the couch. !ean places christen on the floor in a foetus
position and oves bac% to the couch. )ianca stays in front of the stage and begins her
poe.
Bian!as poem (nag liedt"ie by unknown author):
As .y, voor .y 2a bed gaan,
die kamer binnesluip,
n rukkie langs die wieg staan
en kyk en droom en kyk
&na al die helder ure
se pret en klein verdriet
is hierdie vrede smetloos
en suiwer soos n lied&
vermy dan die gedagte
wat snel, verradelik,
Soos vuiste in die donker
.ou gorrel styf toedruk
aan koue, honger kinders
wat teen mekaar vasskuif,
hul slaap n see van angste
waarop hul eindloos dryf...
6ermy dan die gedagte
en vou die dekens dig*
n 7ind in sterrenagte
is teer soos sterrelig
Actors begin a !adaistic poe and ove behind the couch individually in different ways. And
sit behind the couch.
!adaistic poe 1 (written by Andre Kershaw):
+hristen: at night when we drea# where do the dreas coe fro2
)ianca: where do they go2 And who gave birth to !e3a vu2 4ou and e or e and you2
'ane: aybe we all share dreas. 5i%e a worldwide.whirlpool of intangible ethereal threads.
Andre: what happens if the threads can$t be tied together2 "hat if they snap or turn into a
noose2 And who will hang tonight2
(obyn: soeties I drea. 6oeties I even drea when i asleep.
!ean: tell e ore*how does it a%e you feel when nothing is real. Are your dreas
nothing or are you unreal2
(obyn: well*
!ean starts their e7tract.
#ean and $obyns e%tra!t (e%tra!t rom &oir by 'eter (traughan):
4r #eyers* that"s it5
Allison* stands up
Alison* that"s it.
4r #eyers* so, how"d the dream make you feel5
Alison* how"d it make me feel5
4r #eyers* yes.
Alison* how did my dad shooting me and burying me in the woods for a birthday present make me
feel5
4r #eyers* yes.
Alison* well8I was disappointed, obviously. Id asked for a bike
4r #eyers* glances at his watch. )eat.
Alison* there was a girl killed a couple weeks ago in some woods. It"s stuck in my head. I keep
thinking about her8that"s probably why I had the dream
4r #eyers* and how is your relationship with your father5
Alison* good. 9ine. It"s8its. We don"t talk much
4r #eyers* uhuh. Well8there"s some more background stuff I8now, Alison, you don"t work do you5
Alison* yes.
4r #eyers* at8 :(eading)Telco5
Alison* uhuh.
4r #eyers* and what do you do there5
Alison* I talk to wankers
4r #eyers* therapist5
Alison* adult chat line
4r #eyers* ah. And how is that5
Alison* there"s a lot of strange people out there.
4r #eyers* yup
Alison* not .ust the callers. They"re8you know. (ut, I mean the people who run the place. It"s very
weird. At first they monitor your calls, but I think they get so bored they .ust leave you alone after a
while. ;ou"re supposed to stick to these scripts but8well, to be honest, .ust in my opinion, the 'uality
of the writing isn"t that great. And I find that if you add lib a little it gives it a... a8
4r #eyers* spontaneity.
Actors coe up fro behind the couch and free8e in a prayer position on the couch.
Prayer lin%:
9ow lay e down as I sleep.
Pray the lord y soul to %eep.
If I die before I wa%e.
I pray the lord y soul do ta%e.
Andre oves forward to begin his onologue
Andres monologue (e%tra!t rom spring awakening by (te)en (ater):
$ave you prayed tonight, 4esdemona5 ur father who art in heaven5 you don<t look like it, my love&
rapt in your e%pectation of what<s coming, as in that sweet moment of budding ecstasy when I saw
you lying in the window of -onathan Schlesinger<s& your supple legs and arms, the gentle curving of
your hips, your firm young breasts .ust as enticing as now& oh, how delirious with .oy the great master
must have been when the fourteen&year&old original lay stretched out on the divan before his eyes)
It is the cause) & It is the cause) & ;ou can tell by the fearsome pounding in my breast that my motive
for this murder isn<t frivolous. #y throat goes dry at the thought of the lonely nights ahead of me. I
swear to you, my child, I"m not doing this because I"ve had too much of you. $ow could anyone admit
to have gotten sick of you5
but you suck the marrow out of my bones, you bend my back, you steal the last sparkle from my
youthful eyes.& you<re too demanding in your inhuman diffidence, too e%hausting with your unmoving
limbs)& either you or me)& and the victory is mine.
;ou"re not dying for your sins, you<re dying for mine. & In heartrending self&defence against my own
incursions, I"m committing my seventh con.ugal murder. There"s something tragic in the role of
bluebeard. I think that all his murdered wives put together suffered less than he did each time he
strangled one.
(ut my conscience will be pacified, my body will regain its strength when you, devil, no longer reside
in the red satin cushions of my .ewel bo%.
(ut there<s a $eliogabalus in me) #oritura me salutat) & =irl, girl, why do you press your needs
together5 & Why even now5 & are you mindful of inscrutable eternity55& one twitch, and I"ll set you
free)& one feminine gesture, one sign of lust, of sympathy, girl)& I"ll frame you in gold and hang you
above my bed)& don<t you see that it<s your chasteness alone that gives birth to my debaucheries5&
woe, woe, unto those who are inhuman)
#y heart is breaking& nonsense) & >ven saint Agnes died of her restraint, and she wasn<t half as
naked as you) & ne last kiss on your blossoming body, the childish budding breast& you"re sweetly
rounded& your horribly cruel knee...
$ave you prayed tonight, 4esdemona5
It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul. ?et me not name it to you, you chaste stars) It is the cause)
,oveent lin% (alost lover by fine fren8y):
-nce his onologue is finished actors begin a oveent se:uence
Andre# !ean and 'ane end on the couch with 'ane in the centre. 'ane begins her poe.
Janes poem (unknown):
:Sy"t die een liefgekry@ die arm een met die groot bek.
en die een hartseer oog die dag AB .are terug by die ingewikkelde dam.
toe hy sy hemp uittrek teen die loug, wegkyk en wag dat sy uittrek.
en na die swem in sy hemp sy wou sterf in die kleef
terwyl hy sy hare met haar vingers kam.
:die ander een sou altyd daar wees@ herkenning van bloed.
>n die bestemde swawels wat elke .aar tussen hier en europa vlieg.
altyd wetend en groeiend in hunkering, met noem&noem bessies
wou hy haar voed.
en donkernag toe hulle al C hand&aan&hand terugkeer en haar pa wag
sou hy vorentoe tree en lieg
A
:ver weg en lank terug@ dit sou haar oD mistig maak soos die berg.
in somer en bymekaarmaak sou sy nog die pyn van die vroeEre
droom kon veel.
maar winter bring realiteit en krag, diF faite sou al haar aandag verg*
een is weg en dood, sy I parapleeg, die ander Gn volslae homoseksueel.
,oveent lin%:
'ane unravels her bird and begins to cry into it# using it as her hand%erchief. +hristen oves
forward and begin her poe directed towards 'ane.
Christens poem (a sad !hild by *argaret Atwood):
;ou<re sad because you<re sad.
It<s psychic. It<s the age. It<s chemical.
=o see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.
Well, all children are sad
but some get over it.
Count your blessings. (etter than that,
buy a hat. (uy a coat or pet.
Take up dancing to forget.
9orget what5
;our sadness, your shadow,
whatever it was that was done to you
the day of the lawn party
when you came inside flushed with the sun,
your mouth sulky with sugar,
in your new dress with the ribbon
and the ice&cream smear,
and said to yourself in the bathroom,
I am not the favourite child.
#y darling, when it comes
right down to it
and the light fails and the fog rolls in
and you<re trapped in your overturned body
under a blanket or burning car,
and the red flame is seeping out of you
and igniting the tarmac beside you head
or else the floor, or else the pillow,
none of us is!
or else we all are.
6ong lin%:
As christen starts the first line of the last stan8a the actors light birds in the roo. Then once
christen is finished actors begin a nursery rhye. "hile they are saying the nursery rhye
the actors wal% to sit behind the couch here the actors paint their birds.
9ursery rhye:
"hite bird# white bird fly away hoe
4our house is on fire and your children shall burn
"hite bird# white bird fly away hoe
4our house is on fire and your children shall burn.
'ane and Andre are on the couch. They begin their dialogue.
Jane and Andres e%tra!t (e%tra!t rom buried !hild by (am (hepard)
$alie* What in the name of -udas Hriest is going on in this house5) >%cuse me 9ather. ;ou can"t leave
this house for a second without the devil blowing in the front door) :Takes blanket off 4odge and
covers wooden leg with it@
4odge* =imme back my blanket) =imme back my goddamn blanket before I free,e to death)
$alie* ;ou"re not going to free,e) The sun"s out in case you haven"t noticed)
4odge* =imme back my blanket) That blanket is for live flesh not dead wood.
$alie* (elieve me, 9ather, this is not what I had in mind when I invited you in. I keep forgetting how
easily things fall apart when I"m not here to hold them together.
4odge* I want my blanket back) =imme back my blanket)
$alie* Shut up, 4odge) I"ve had enough) 2ow tell me, who is this and what is she doing with my cup
and saucer5
4odge* She made me soup.
$alie* She made you soup5 Who the hell is she5
4odge* She thinks we have a secret.
$alie* What secret5
4odge* She wants to get to the bottom of it. :To the audience@ That"s it isn"t it5 ;ou"d like to get right
down to bedrock5 ?ook the beast right dead in the eye. ;ou want me to tell ya5 ;ou want me to tell ya
what happened5 I"ll tell ya. I might as well. I wouldn"t mind it hit the air after all these years of silence.
$alie* 2o) 4on"t listen to him. $e doesn"t remember anything)
4odge* I remember the whole thing from start to finish. I remember the day he was born. :Hause@
$alie* 4odge, if you tell this thing 3 if you tell this, you"ll be dead to me. ;ou"ll be .ust as good as dead.
4odge* That won"t be such a big chance, $alie. See this girl, this little girl, she wants to know. She
wants to know something more. And I got this feeling that it doesn"t make a bit difference. I"d sooner
tell it to a stranger than anybody else. I"d sooner tell it to the four winds.
$alie* ;ou promised8
4odge* I don"t remember any promise. See we were a well&established family once. Well&established.
All the boys were grown. The farm was producing enough milk to fill ?ake #ichigan twice over. #e
and $alie here were pointed toward what looked like the middle part of our life. >verything was settled
with us. All we had to do was ride it out. Then $alie got pregnant again. ut the middle of nowhere,
she got pregnant. We weren"t planning on havin" any more boys. We had enough boys already. In fact
we hadn"t been sleeping in the same bed for about I years.
$alie* I"m not listening to this) I don"t have to listen to this.
4odge* where are you going5) Jpstairs5) ;ou"ll .ust be listening to it upstairs) ;ou go outside, you"ll be
listening to it outside. #ight as well stay here and listen to it. $alie had this kid see. This baby boy.
She had it. I let her have it on her own. All the other boys, I had the best doctors, the best nurses,
everything. This one I let her have by herself. This one hurt real bad. Almost killed her, but she had it
anyway. It lived, see. It lived. It wanted to grow up in this family. It wanted to be .ust like us. It wanted
to be part of us. It wanted to pretend that I was its father. She wanted me to believe in it. >ven when
everyone around us knew. >veryone. All the boys knew. Tilden knew.
$alie* Shut up, 4odge)
After the e7tract the actors begin the nursery rhye again# pic% up the ash of the birds and
cradle it in their hands along with their white birds. Then ove into new positions. (obyn front
centre# all other actors on the couch in /childli%e0 positions.
9ursery rhye:
)lac% bird# blac% bird. ;ly away hoe.
4our house is on fire and your children shall burn.
)lac% bird# blac% bird. ;ly away hoe.
4our house is on fire and you children shall burn.
(obyn begins her poe.
$obyns poem: warning by "enny "oseph
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
with a red hat which doesn<t go, and doesn<t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin sandals, and say we<ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I<m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick flowers in other people<s gardens
and learn to spit.
;ou can wear terrible shirts and grow fatter
and eat three pounds of sausages at a go
or only bread and pickle for a week
and hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in bo%es.
(ut now we must have clothes that keep us dry
and pay our rent and not swear in the street
and set a good e%ample for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
(ut maybe I ought to practice a little now5
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
when suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Actors begin !adaistic poe. "hile saying this they ove behind the couch individually# in
different way. They end sitting behind the couch. +hristen and )ianca ove to sit onto the
couch.
!adaistic poe lin% (written by Andre Kershaw):
'ane: when I$ old# I$ll be uch younger. I hope y grandchildren will visit.
Andre: you should die young. !ie young and leave a se7y corpse.
(obyn: we should stop doing things. If we don$t stop doing things there will be nothing left
worth doing when we$re old.
!ean: it ust ta%e a lot of practice to get wrin%les. I haven$t anaged any wrin%les yet.
)ianca: I$ll be a lesbian when i older. It sounds fun and I don$t thin% you need any
:ualifications.
+hristen: I$ll 3ust sit around and eat potatoes all day. ,uch easier. <ither that or %ill yself.
"hich reinds e.
+hristen begin their e7tract.
Bian!a + Christens e%tra!t (e%tra!t rom baby with the bath water by Christopher #urang)
Hrincipal* Wait a moment, would you5 $enry, I mean #r Willoughby, is a medium si8e, I don"t mean
he holds sFances. I didn"t want there to be any misunderstanding. I don"t think there was, but .ust in
case. I myself am into black magic. $enry, I have taken out a black candle and I am thinking of you.
4o you have a match5
#iss Hringle* 2o, I"m sorry. About 4aisy"s essay.
Hrincipal* I"m all ears.
#iss Hringle* Well8..
Hrincipal* which is a figure of speech. As you can indeed see, I am a great deal more than .ust ears. I
have a head, a trunk, a lower body, legs, and feet. I have legs and feet, $enry. I hope you"re working
'uickly.
#iss Hringle* Hay attention to me) 9ocus your mind on what I am saying) I do not have all day.
Hrincipal* ;es, I"m sorry, I will. ;ou"re right, oh I admire strong women. I"ve always been afraid I might
be a lesbian, but I"ve never had any opportunity to e%periment with that side of myself. ;ou"re not
interested, are you5 ;ou"re single. Herhaps you are a lesbian.
#iss Hringle* I"m not a lesbian, thank you, anyway.
Hrincipal* 2either am I. I .ust thought maybe I was. $enry, you don"t think I"m a lesbian, do you5 The
intercom only works one way, it needs to be repaired. f course, $enry"s a mute anyway.
#iss Hringle* #rs Willoughby, please out your hand over your mouth for a moment and don"t say
anything.
Hrincipal* I"m all ears.
#iss Hringle* =ood, thank you. I was disturbed by 4aisy"s essay. I want you to listen to it. 0What I 4id
for #y Summer 6acation1 (y 4aisy 4ingle berry 04ark, dank rags. Wet fetid towels. A large =erman
Shepard, its innards splashed across the windshield of a car. Is this a memory5 Is it a dream5 I am
trapped, I am trapped, how to escape. I try to kill myself, but the buses always stop. ld people and
children get discounts on buses, but still no one will ever kill me. $ow did I learn to speak, it"s
ama,ing. I am a baked potato. I am a summer s'uash, I am a vegetable. I am an inanimate ob.ect
that from time to time can run very 'uickly, but I"m not really alive. $elp, help, help. I am drowning I
am drowning , my lungs fill with the summer ocean, but I still do not die, this awful life goes on and on,
can no one rescue me.1 What do you think I should do5
Hrincipal* I"d give her an A. I think it"s very good. The style is good, it rambles a bit, but it"s
une%pected. It"s sort of an intriguing combination of 4onald (arthelme and Sesame Street. All that 0I
am a baked potato1 stuff. I liked it.
#iss Hringle* ;es, but don"t you think the child needs help5
Hrincipal* well, a good editor would give her some pointers, granted, but I think she"s a long way from
publishing yet. I feel she should stay in school, keep working on her essays, the school track team
needs herm there"s no one who runs as fast. I think this is all premature, #iss Hringle.
#iss Hringle* I feel she should see the school psychologist.
Hrincipal* I am the school psychologist.
#iss Hringle* What happened to #r (yers5
Hrincipal* I fired him. I thought a woman would be better suited for the .ob.
#iss Hringle* (ut do you have a degree in psychology.
Hrincipal* I imagine I do. I can have $enry check if you insist. Are you sure you"re not a lesbian5 I
think you"re too forceful, it"s unfeminine. And I think you"re picking on this poor child. She shows signs
of promising creativity
6ong lin%:
+hristen stands and begins to play the violin again. The cast goes into a oveent
se:uence.
#eans monologue (e%tra!t rom the no)el sleepers by Lorenzo Car!aterra):
I sat across the table from the man who had battered and tortured and brutali,ed me nearly thirty
years ago. I had imagined him to be in his si%ties && he had seemed so old to me back then && but, in
fact, he was in his late forties, less than a decade older than me. $is thinning hair was combed
straight back, and his right hand, trembling and ash white, held a filter tip cigarette. $is left clutched a
glass of ice water. $e looked at me from behind a pair of black&rimmed glasses, his brown eyes moist,
his nose running, and the skin at its base red and flaky. KI don<t know what you want me to say,K he
said in a voice devoid of the power it once held. KI don<t know where to start.K
In my memory, he was tall and muscular, arrogant and 'uick&tempered, eager to lash out at those
under his command at the .uvenile home where I spent nine months when I was thirteen years old. In
reality, sitting now before me, he was frail and timid, thin beads of cold sweat forming at the top of his
forehead. KI need to keep my .ob,K he said, his voice a whining plea. KI can<t lose this one. If any of
my bosses find out, if anybody finds out, I<m finished.K I wanted to stand up and grab him, reach
past the coffee and the smoke and beat him until he bled. Instead, I sat there and remembered all that
I had tried so hard, over so many years, to forget. Hainful screams piercing silent nights. A leather belt
against soft skin. 9oul breath on the back of a neck. ?oud laughter mi%ed with muffled tears. I had
waited so long for this meeting, spent so much time and money searching for the man who held the
answers to so many of my 'uestions. (ut now that he was here, I had nothing to say, nothing to ask.
I half&listened as he talked about two failed marriages and a bankrupt business, about how the evil he
committed haunts him to this very day. The words seemed cowardly and empty and I felt no urge to
address them. $e and the group he was a part of had stained the future of four boys, damaged
them beyond repair. nce, the sound of this man<s very walk caused all our movement to stop. $is
laugh, low and eerie, had signalled an onslaught of torment. 2ow, sitting across from him, watching
his mouth move and his hands flutter, I wished I had not been as afraid of him back then, that I<d
somehow had the nerve and the courage to fight back. So many lives might have turned out
differently if I had.
KI didn<t mean all those things,K he whispered, leaning closer toward me. K2one of us did.K KI don<t
need you to be sorry,K I said. KIt doesn<t do me any good.K KI<m begging< you,K he said, his voice
breaking. KTry to forgive me. Hlease. Try.K K?earn to live with it,K I told him, getting up from the
table. KI can<t,K he said. K2ot anymore.K KThen die with it,1 I said, looking at him hard. K-ust like
the rest of us.K The pained look of surrender in his eyes made my throat tighter, easing the
darkness of decades. If only my friends had been there to see it.
!ean stands upon the bac% of the couch and falls bac% into the casts ars. Then is lifted
bac% and the entire cast oves in front of the couch and starts the oveent se:uence.
,oveent lin% (forgetting by !avid grey)
After the oveent actors ove to places
$obyns monologue (i)e kinds o silen!e, unknown author):
She said try writing it, so I"m writing it. ;ou come into the room. I can<t see your face. It<s dark. I<m
lying on the bed and I"ve no clothes on. ;ou kiss me a lover<s kiss. ;ou put your tongue inside my
mouth and you tell me that you love me. I say, I love you too, 4ad. I can<t write this. She said the
dreams will fade if I write it down. She says it<s normal. These feelings are normal. I sat, they<re not
my feelings they<re my dreams. ;ou touch me. I want you to. It<s you and it<s not you. I ask you to
touch me again. And you do. I look at your face above me, and you look so sad, I<m not your daughter
I<m your lover. >%cept I"m lying now because I know I"m your daughter and that<s what makes it so
special, and secret. ;ou look so sad and I will make everything better for you. I don<t want you to stop.
;ou<re the only lover I"ve ever had. I pull you down towards me. I wake up. I<m sick over the side of the
bed. $ow could you do this to me, 4ad5 $ow could you do this5
!adaistic lin% (written by Andr Kershaw)
Janes monologue (:
$oekom se .y, .y soen die grond waarop ek geloop het5 >k moet liewer doodgemaak word. >k is so
moeg) As ek net n biet.ie kon rus8kon rus) >k is seemeeu8nee, dis nie what ek wou se nie. >k is n
aktrise. 2atuurlik) $y is ook hier. 2atuurlik8dit maak tog nie saak nie8.a8hy het nie geglo aan die
teater nie, hy hey my uitgelag oor my drome, tot ek ook naderhand opgehou het om te glo, moed
verloor het8 daarby die liefdesprobleme, die .alousie, die gedurige kwelling oor die kind8 ek het nie
geweet wat om met sy arms te doen nie, ek het nie geweet hoe om op die verhoog te beweeg nie, ek
kon nie my stem gebruik nie. -y weet nie hoe verskriklik dit is om te besef dat mens hopeloos speel
nie. >k is n seemeeu. 2ee, dis ne wat ek wou gesD nie8onthou .y nog, .y het eendag n meeu
geskiet5 Toe het daar n man verbygekom, en haar gesien, en haar lewe geneem, toevallig, sommer
omdat hy niks anders te doen gehad het nie. Tema vir n kortverhall8dis nie wat ek bedoel nie8 wat
het ek gesD85 >k het van die toneel gepraat vandag is ek heeltemal anders8ek is nou al n regte
aktrise, ek speel met blydskap, met opwinding, op die verhoog is dit of ek dronk word, dan voel ek so
mooi. >n terwyl ek nou hier kuier, stap ek aanhoudend en ek dink, en dink, en dit is of daar elke dag n
mag in my groei8 nou weet ek, nou verstaan ek, 7ostia* in ons manier van liewe, of dit skryf of toneel
speel is, is die hoofsaak nie roem of heerlikheid nie, dit is niks waaroor ek tevore gedroom het nie, dit
is net die vermoE om aan te hou verduur8 om .ou kruis te dra en bly glo. 2ou glo ek en die pyn is
minder, en waneer ek aan my roeping dink, is ek nie meer so bang vir die lewe nie.
5in%: actors end in the starting positions.
#eans poem (e%haustion, unknown author):
I am tired
2ot for a lack of rest&
2o, I slept 'uite well last night,
And I"ve had my coffee
It"s something deeper, something
Inherently present, in the
9ibbers of my skin,
In my tendons, in my eyes.
I am e%hausted
9atigued by life
(y the noise and the silence,
The people, and
The empty rooms,
The light and dark!
$ope and
4espair
So worn down by the world
That nothing in it can
Lefresh my mind from the
Constant bu,,ing
I am tired and there are not
>nough hours in the night
9or the type of rest I need.
+hristen begins playing the violin. !ean wal%s bac% to the couch. +hristen ends on a sharp note and
as%s if we can start. +ycle of life.
<nd.