2015
My Touch of Love. Copyright Donatella Felice & Susanne Harford, January, 2015
THE TOUCH OF LOVE By Susanne L Harford
Copyright January, 2015 by Susanne L Harford & Donatella Felice
SYNOPSIS
Inspired by Peter Cowan’s short story “A Touch of Love” this is the story of an ‘ordinary’ Australian girl and boy that demonstrates no life is ordinary, especially those touched by love. They use their time in the bush to learn about life’s journey, and to support each other’s difficult progress. The outback bookstore setting provides a metaphor of the enormous value, yet uncertain, transitory nature, of the modern era. Music forms much of their communications and their comedic ‘coming of age’ is a portal into how Australia’s traditionally multicultural society traverses, often elegantly even when in the most prosaic surroundings, life’s dangers and its advantages.
CHARACTERS
BOY: Aboriginal, early 20s, who has suffered serious physical injury some time ago
GIRL: Australian, mid-20s, mixed heritage, who has grown up in the Outback.
MUSICIAN: accompanist for both BOY and GIRL
PLACE: 2015
TIME: MIDDAY
(The stage is in darkness, quiet. Then GIRL’S voice is heard softly singing a chant, but GIRL cannot be seen.
(*Song 1).
GIRL’S song is punctuated by odd, puffing sounds.
At the same time, an excited cluster of bright Sparkles appear in the darkness, mid-stage.)
The Pilbara, WA Outback
1
“Bye, bye my dear friends dear book friends.
You have been to me. Can be to me
Sometimes Maybe again. (Puff)
“Catcher in the Rye” Now you tell me What’s that mean? What means that? Who knows, Nothing I need.
Not me, don’t like it, Don’t want it, Don’t need it, didn’t heed it (Puff)
“Emperor’s Children” Spoiled brats Need a good kick Up the bum, yes
Too much think, thinking No doin’ That lot.
Not me, didn’t like it, Don’t want it, Don’t need it, heed it (Puff)
“What She Saw”? Not much, that’s for sure! For sure! Take up with morons, morons Ten of ’em? Why? Nah Learning don’t take that long
Not for me.
2
Don’t like it, Don’t want it, need it, Don’t need it (Puff)
(A shaft of light pierces the gloom, Followed swiftly by sound of a door, creaks,slams. Then a sharp catch of breath is heard as the beam slides across the floor and highlights GIRL’S pretty figure through her löse thin muslin dress.
Then the beam, sprinkled with dust, moves across the peeling paint on a wall it picks out a big board with an ancient shop sign, a name “Clem Rogers”.
Then the beam abruptly cuts off.)
“Visit from the Goon Squad”? Yea, they’re alright Alright Gettin’ on with it
they are, are But
Not for me. Know this stuff Don’t want it, Don’t need it, need it. (Puff)
“The Group” – they lost me Lost me Why worry ’bout those things? They natural,
Just actual. No need to say them, none
3
Don’t need it.
(Puff)
(Big book on Roman era) Read ya, yes Sure learned stuff But you’re too big
Can’t take ya, Sorry. (Puff)
(Spanish title) And can’t read you So you can’t come. (Puff)
Hmnn, “a Touch of Love”? Neva read that one. Might have him.
(GIRL says brightly:)
“Don’t reckon we’ll see him ’round here anymore, Good Riddance!”
(Slowly BOY is revealed, squatting in the darkness.)
BOY: “Who’dya mean, girl?
GIRL: That daft Mahoney. He’s cleared out. Last night. D’ja see the Chev? He left it in the middle of the street.”
BOY: “Yeah. Why?”
GIRL: “couldn’t wait around – he owes everyone in town money, y’know? Heaps of it. Me included. Bastard. So he’s dun a runa.”
BOY: “Watcha goin’ to do?”
GIRL: “You know, been thinkin’! Allll mornin’. So Great…. I don’t have to sleep with him anymore – done my 3 years’ “service”… So great! – got plans, that’s for sure! Start in’ real soon.
4
And the rest of the town, they hate his guts. They know there’s nothin’ for ’em here. Nothin’ but these old books. Nobody’s cummin’ in here, now. You know that. Yesterday the last mine closed up. That’s why he’s left, of course… No more FIFOs…. buying books, in cash, to read on their plane rides, while they’re leavin’, or comin’.Oh, one good thing, Mahoney said we can give our community all these books of his, the whole store full of ’em! Their own Library. That’ll set a few cats among the pigeons!
So dusty in here… You hot? You feel hot, your skin’s real hot – so’s mine. Wanna go for a swim? Doncha know, I think that lil’ waterfall’l be runnin now. But only for a day or two, most. There’ll be a nice soak at the bottom – it’ll be sooo cool now, after that great big rain last few days. Let’s us get there first. Before the brats.
(BOY leaps up athletically, disappears out the door.)
GIRL: “Hey! Wait for me!”
(GIRL runs out, leaving the door ajar behind her and taking the “Peter Cowan” book with her. End Act 1.)
(Act 2)
BOY sits on a tree trunk, STAGE RIGHT BOY pulls his long-sleeved shirt over his head Leaves sleeves on his lower arms As he lies back down along tree trunk
GIRL is heard singing gaily off-stage (*Song 2). GIRL appears STAGE LEFT, but does not see BOY.)
“There’s that Minaricci So prickle-y So pretty
Ya told me
Don’t climb it It’ll get ya He’ll prick ya,
He’ll stick ya
5
Here’s Ol’ Mr Castor Oil He’s not from here He’s not for you
Ya told me
Don’t eat ‘I’m he’s ick-y Make you sick-ey
And Miss Stuart Pea So pretty Sneak’in ‘long ground Hardly eva found
Ya told me.”
(GIRL stops singing and, without pause, launches straight into conversation)
“D’ya know, I burned all Mahoney’s papers this morning. He told me to. Just after he gave up trying to get the truck going. No wonder, you shoulda seen how much he owes people.
And, I found out, in all his dodgy stories, he never, ever got round round to telling us about “Clem Rogers” – y’know – the old store name that he kept? That was a real, famous, American pioneer person. From Oklahoma. It was still the Wild West then, and part of the time he was a judge. His wife had Cherokee blood. Never knew any of that till today.
And Robert Mahoney himself? I found out stuff about him, too, from his papers. He’s got a posh family – maybe he’s what Dad used to call a Remittance Man. Paid to stay far away from his family. That’s what happens to those blokes – when they’re not the ‘first-born’ – some crazy Pommie idea called primogeniture, ‘s what Dad called it.
6
Seems blokes – like our Mahoney, go mad then, I guess, like they can’t deal with it.”
BOY: “Waddya mean?”
GIRL sees BOY
GIRL: “What? Oh, because they aren’t the first they get nothing, so they go wild. Crazy, black sheep, or something. Then their rich family wants to get rid of ’em – ’cause they can’t control how they behave, I guess.
Weird idea – happens all the time in our lot! We hardly ever turf anyone out, do we? Anywhichway e’s a long way from his family, and they sure want to keep it that way. That’d be right, I guess, he’s not that likeable, is he?”
BOY: “No.”
GIRL: “So – guess what, his family pay Mahoney a heap of money! Money every month, heaps of it, right on the same date. They are in London. His family, that is. No letters from them to him, though. A lawyer in England writes, tells him how much, same day each month – can you imagine what that’d be like?
Sod wastes it all on his stupid ideas. Like a bookshop in the middle of nowhere – here. Who knows why he doesn’t just enjoy a decent life? Over on the coast. How nice would that be? Get a flat – right on the beach – he can sure afford it. Surf every day.”
(BOY speedily leaves stage.)
” Hey! You wait for me! I wanna talk to you about the truck. Truck’s mine now. When Mahoney couldn’t get it started I told him he owed me. Then asked him – and he just said yes. How good is that?
I know you can fix all sorts of motors. Seen ya. Know you bought all the tools. Got a whole big box of ’em, haven’t ya? Nice. Shiny. You learned all that stuff, dincha, when you were away – after you left the hospital…
You did! I know you did! And now you’ve got all that gear you really need, too – finally. Waddtheycallut? Pro…. ( laughs) Do ya banking, remember? Saw the payments for extra lessons – mechanics, tools.. the, the – prosthetics – that’s it! .. go through. Just last week.
7
Mahoney’s not all bad. He wrote me a letter saying truck’s mine, just before he left. He was so desperate to leave and couldn’t. Then he got lucky – caught a ride to Hedland with that priest who came yesterday. Priest witnessed my letter – so it should all be fine!
Wanna share the truck? You fix the truck? We get it going? Then we go somewhere? Surfing?”
“Chug a lug Chug chug”
(GIRL exits Stage Right, singing (*Song 3) End Act 2
Act 3 BOY stands MID-STAGE, looks at waterfall. BOY is shirtless, back to audience. BOY’S arms are above his head, they rest on an overhead tree
limb.)
(GIRL enters STAGE RIGHT, goes to BOY, stands behind BOY. GIRL runs her hands over BIY’S back GIRL pushes down BOY’S shorts, stops GURL then slides her hands round BOY’S waist.
GIRL unbuttons BOY’S shorts, they fall to ground. GIRL turns BOY round GIRL looks down.)
“Well! You never showed me that before! – That’s pretty… smooth!
(BOY walks to waterfall. Audience now see BOY has no hands. BOY disappears into waterfall.)
“Gone to cool off. Must’ve been all my talk about the Chev got you so excited. Listen to this!
“the white quartz stones, the brown strands of weed”
8
(GIRL looks around)
“Sounds like that Pete Cowan’s been right here too, doesn’t it?..
“and… when he came up near the red bank she scooped her hand along..” ” of the water, the arc of spray lifting towards him, sharp in the broken light.”
“Beautiful.”
(GIRL carries out the same action.)
GIRL Puts down book. BOY reappears, gets out of waterfall, squirts a stream of water right at GIRL. Still clothed, GIRL stands up, walks into the waterfall. BOY watches, then joins GIRL.)
BOY: “You bring’in that book? One you were readin’ To me Just now?
Goodo”
BOY: (*Song 4)
” then. Got it all figured.
Doncha, doncha Goin’ far ‘way now
Can’t say I blame ya. Wanna go too With ya
Stay the same, tho Woncha, woncha?
9
How ’bout Broome first stop Catch some music With ya
Then Darwin – just another hop To Arnhem and Yothi Yindi?
You with me We go see Maybee even that “Never-Never”?
And Sail to Timor then Gamelans aren’t half bad Music (Neva make ya sad) Make lotsa new friend…
Have to leave the truck, tho And after Then – who knows?
Mars? Wherever, whenever, forever … We go together.”
(BOY removes GIRL’S dress BOY holds GIRL, kisses her slowly, then, as she manages a word or two, BOY picks up GIRL and walks, both disappear into the waterfall.
Then Sparkles re-appear as the stage slowly darkens.)
CURTAIN
10 minutes
Pathan: A German Man. Chapter 3 (part).
Chapter 3
Every weekend now, from Friday afternoon, to early Monday morning, prior to autumn’s commencement, a continuous gala went on at Pathan’s apartment building. So many people attended that, down in the street doorman were needed, although it seemed these – teams of doormen – were not there to stop people from attending. On the contrary, almost all were welcome provided they were willing to allow the recording of their personal out-of-body experiences, dressed smartly, smiled – and spoke courteously to doormen. The rooms became crowded, gorgeous couples, groups of elegant people, often sat and lounged in the hallways, waiting, on chairs and stools the staff brought them.
As news of Pathan’s project took hold people arrived from all over Germany. and Pathan installed further lifts in the courtyard, to accommodate the weak, infirm – or the simply fatigued. I heard the code of conduct later, simply: no alcohol, behave sociably, be recorded – and to dress. For the weekend events big band orchestras, or jazz quartets, or string, arrived and set up. During these soirees, teams of caterers produced gallons of non-alcoholic drinks and freshly-squeezed juices. Spotless wait staff continuously offered of bite-sized delicacies, brought from every part of the globe, it seemed.
Now into this safe and luxurious environment returned the more adventurous strangers, those Pathan had entertained first, in the days and nights after we were six attending his purpose. Cars with foreign number plates began to park in the surrounding suburban streets as they brought their friends.
Yet in Pathan’s rooms, still always lavished with candles and flowers, and full of music, laughter and easy chatter, most still came with the firm intention to enjoy themselves, and it seemed they did. They sounded so delightful down in the street that I would often watch passers-by stop in their tracks, wistfully look up to the fourth floor, to the balconies overflowing with beautiful people, mixed in with the darker others. Those in the street would stand for a few minutes and watch more of the gorgeous retinue arrive.
Occasionally I also would dress, and cross the hall, and wander through groups of visitors, listening to an amusing anecdote here, a happy laugh there, enjoying the always-superb music. Like many others there, I sought Pathan, his generous happiness, his warm laughter, and his inimitable spirit, which pervaded his place; but there, for now, Pathan was never to be found.
Amber and Rose, familiar with Pathan’s habits, both knew how fond I had grown of Pathan lately and how sorely I then missed him. By now these two were permanent fixtures in my life and had introduced me to the divine Amen, fashion advisor to the stars. All that summer, since that day by the Isar, Pathan had provided his convertible for my use, and one warm and memorable day, at Amen’s instruction, we four drove to the extraordinary Lembach House, now the home of the Munich Stadtische Galerie. There silently we stood in front of Max Slevogt’s painting “Danae”. That experience, and my subsequent reading about the group Slevogt was sometimes-part of, provided me with a much different perspective.
Ancient Gods, it seemed, were calling to me, and to the three girls too. That same day, after we visited Amen’s salon – to be styled, of course – we lunched with the wicked Chinese restauranteur nearby (name?) and there all got softly drunk on Chinese wine. Then these three girls took me home with them. Then this became something that happened often and so I found myself in heaven and asked myself what more could a man want in a life. Nothing.
Now I truly loved Munich. The extraordinary weight of its history, its astonishing reconstructions and renewals; the city astounded me daily. I began to perceive a little about its strength and power, and that of its own, independent people plus the new and unique mixture of gifted individuals who now decided Munich was where they would live and work – much as had occurred in the artistic pinnacle reached around the turn of the previous century. As the summer turned towards autumn our new-found patron asked us to structure the work environment of a marvellous young creature called Perpetua Evedown,
susanneah 