Fallen Petals Page 6

  PHIL and TANIA excitedly enter the space and sit next to each other, with big smiles.

  PHIL: They’re going to give us our chance.

  TANIA: You just have to believe.

  MARG BENNETT enters calmly, smiles at them and sits down. PHIL and TANIA beam back at her.

  MARG: My name is—please call me Marg.

  PHIL smiles at MARG again. MARG looks uncomfortable.

  The others are late.

  PHIL: Tardiness.

  MARG: [to PHIL] Pardon?

  PHIL: Tardy. Tardiness. Another word for late. I’ve been incorporating as many new words as possible into my vocabulary since the start of last year.

  TANIA: Sorry, how many more people are coming to see us?

  MARG: Just the two.

  PHIL: Are they from Melbourne?

  MARG: You’d like them to be from Melbourne.

  PHIL: It would please me, that’s for sure.

  MARG: And, Tania, it would please you.

  TANIA: Yes.

  MARG: And why would that be?

  PHIL: You’d be taking our aspirations seriously. I’m sorry. You are taking our aspirations seriously.

  TANIA: Thanks for making the trip down.

  MARG: Do you think I am from Melbourne?

  TANIA: Aren’t you?

  MARG: Originally.

  PHIL: You’re representing Melbourne, then.

  MARG: I replaced two of the other workers in the health centre six months ago, when the centre had to…

  PHIL: Restructure.

  MARG: Yes.

  TANIA: Are you from the Board of Studies or not?

  MARG: Would you like me to be?

  PHIL: I would like you to be an active proxy with some agency.

  MARG: For the moment, it might be better if we all just relax, take a deep breath, and wait for the other two to arrive.

  PHIL: Are they from the Board of Studies?

  MARG: Would you like them to be?

  TANIA: Why do you keep asking us questions like that?

  MARG: What would you like me to be doing?

  TANIA: I don’t know. What’s your job?

  MARG: What do you think it is?

  TANIA: You work for the health centre.

  MARG: Asking questions like the ones I am asking you is a core responsibility of my job. To both elicit information and get you to hear the way you present it.

  TANIA: You’re a social worker. What are you going to do to us?

  PHIL: Represent us?

  DR FRANZ enters.

  FRANZ: Hello, Phil. Hello, Tania. Ms Bennett.

  MARG: Marg.

  FRANZ: Fine.

  SALLY enters slowly, unsure of her feet. She looks a mess.

  I believe you already know who this is.

  TANIA: What’s she doing here?

  PHIL and TANIA glare at SALLY.

  PHIL: Why have we been taken away from our swot-vac to meet up with this thing?

  FRANZ: You can sit, Sally.

  TANIA: What’s going on?

  FRANZ: Ms Bennett is in on this session at the Authority’s request. Now, it comes to our attention that the three of you associate beyond a certain stage one perimeter restriction. It is very dangerous with this Syndrome to go out at all, let alone beyond that restriction, so close to the hazardous medical waste incineration site.

  PHIL: The pyre farm.

  FRANZ: Let’s keep a cool head, if we can, Phil.

  PHIL: Everybody calls it that.

  TANIA: [at SALLY] You slut.

  SALLY smiles back at TANIA.

  MARG: It’s all right, Sally.

  FRANZ: Phil, Tania, we have also had reports to the Authority that you—

  MARG: [to PHIL and TANIA] Young bodies and minds, under stress in times like these, might partake in behaviours which in the long run lead to even more stress—

  PHIL: There’ll be no long run at this rate—

  FRANZ: —and who knows how reproductive hormones could agitate the—

  MARG: And it’s perfectly understand(able)—

  FRANZ: Quite frankly, the behaviour which has been witnessed by at least three independent witnesses is abnormal. Both Ms Bennett and I have made assessments of this evidence to the Authority, and we just have to ensure that you are of no further danger to the community. These abnormal characteristics have led us to believe, given the progression of the Syndrome as I have witnessed it, that you may be habouring possible mutations of whatever disease, virus or bacteria that may be leading to the Hollow Syndrome.

  PHIL: Utter bullshit. Give me someone from the Authority.

  TANIA: [to SALLY] You fucking little diseased slut.

  FRANZ: I am the representative for the Authority.

  PHIL: You cannot seriously believe, that without a rash, a cough, we have this… this thing that she’s got. Give us someone from Melbourne.

  MARG: If we did, how would that make you feel?

  TANIA: [to MARG] Why don’t you shut up? You’re a fucking slag bitch, too.

  PHIL: I could put my case. They’d listen to my case and I’d persuade them!

  TANIA: I’m not sick. Look!

  TANIA starts jumping and bouncing around.

  SALLY: Good one, you moll.

  PHIL: How the fuck do you think it would make me feel? [To FRANZ] What’s she doing here anyway?

  MARG: At the Authority’s request, I provide a social perspective on the pathologies Dr Franz must deal with.

  TANIA: See—I’m not sick.

  She grabs her seat and moves to attack SALLY with it.

  Ya fucking moll!

  PHIL: Don’t! We’ve still got a chance!

  He restrains TANIA.

  FRANZ: This mutation obviously prolongs the host. Maybe it is bacterial. While the physical symptoms are dormant, you should both be doing nothing—

  SALLY laughs at TANIA.

  —Nothing to provoke the onset of the syndrome.

  TANIA puts the chair down for a moment; she continues to glare at SALLY.

  Engage in as little mental, emotional—and from what I hear—sexual stimulation as possible.

  TANIA: [overlapping, frantically whispering] The non-accelerating inflation rate of unemployment is a concept which, based on the Phillips curve / [continuing under the others’ speeches] indicates that certain low rates of unemployment may drive inflation up beyond a point of no return. That is, when the inflation rate returns to a safer level, that is, price stability returns, the nature of the trade-off between unemployment and inflation has changed, so that only a higher level of unemployment maintains the chief goal of price stability—

  SALLY: See? She’s going crazy. She was having sex saying these things.

  FRANZ: In this state, you will only provoke what is already there to flare physically. No learning or study. It could kill you, or pose an even greater public health risk. Tania, we should make a uterine examination immediately—

  SALLY: Phil [mock weeping] —it’s too late for Tania. And it’s too late for me. Maybe it’s not too late for you. So listen to them, mate. They want what’s best for us. I know you’ve had itches, and Tania says she wants kids, but—

  MARG moves over to SALLY and puts her arms around her shoulders.

  PHIL: Bullshit!

  SALLY: Listen to them, mate. Please.

  PHIL: Lying, diseased hick!

  FRANZ: Contain yourselves!

  PHIL: Right. Right. Contain myself. Right.

  TANIA finishes her speech.

  Right. [Nodding] Contain myself. I’ll contain myself all right. Bring the exam papers to town. Put me in a protective suit. I’ll sit in a vacuum chamber with an oxygen mask and fucking write my essay in rubber gloves. What else do I have to prove to you?

  MARG: Sally, does Phil normally act this way?

  SALLY shakes her head.

  TANIA: Cunts! Cunts!

  TANIA hurls the chair at them. PHIL kicks over chairs as well. They begin trashing everything, yelling. MARG hurdles SALLY
into a corner and protects her. DR FRANZ runs out when PHIL rushes them.

  FRANZ: [calling out] Sedatives! Sedatives!

  PHIL and TANIA look at each other; angrily.

  PHIL: You’ve fucked up everything!

  TANIA: You have!

  They look at the huddled two.

  Not worth it.

  TANIA spits at them.

  PHIL: Come on!

  PHIL and TANIA exit, running. Pause.

  MARG: Are you all right, Sally?

  SALLY: That was fun.

  MARG: How are you feeling?

  SALLY: Great.

  MARG: I have to say, Dr Franz seems to be a little provocative. He makes all the pronouncements. I don’t get a look in.

  SALLY: That’s because he’s a cunt.

  MARG: You’re a fighter, aren’t you?

  SALLY: I live.

  MARG: Sally. Can I ask you a favour?

  SALLY: A favour.

  MARG: I’m going to ask you to trust me.

  SALLY giggles.

  Yes. That sounds good. [Beat.] You haven’t yet reached the final stages of the Syndrome.

  SALLY: Yeah. Kidneys and liver haven’t sent the attack cells to the brain yet. Lungs aren’t gasping.

  MARG: How terrible. You’ve seen it.

  SALLY: How many kids have been kicked out?

  SALLY takes a big gulp of air and holds it.

  MARG: What are you doing?

  Silence.

  Sally! No!

  SALLY: Just impersonating.

  SALLY laughs.

  MARG: Sally. You’re going to have to trust me.

  SALLY: Why?

  MARG: This, I believe, is one of the truly postmodern diseases. A new type of disease for the third millennium. I am writing an article for a journal putting this view. I want to research you, if you will let me, before the final stages. I want to look at the social dimensions of the Syndrome.

  SALLY yawns.

  You would be my major case study.

  SALLY yawns again, loudly.

  It would be one way you could live on.

  Pause.

  SALLY: What’s in it for me?

  Beat.

  MARG: Well—

  SALLY punches MARG in the body. She punches her again and again, until MARG is on the floor in agony.

  SALLY: Your wallet!

  MARG produces her wallet for SALLY. SALLY grabs it. She straightens up and loses her footing momentarily. She kicks MARG, then takes a big breath, and like an exhausted runner, gets out of the conference room.

  FIFTEENTH

  At the tree.

  PHIL is digging with a shovel. He makes a small hole. He strikes metal.

  PHIL: [muttering] More shallow than…

  He peers into it. TANIA arrives.

  TANIA: I’ve got the car. What’s that?

  PHIL: A shovel.

  TANIA: What did you do with it?

  PHIL: Wouldn’t you like to know? Recreation. Been waiting.

  TANIA: Haven’t got much to go with.

  PHIL: What? Haven’t you got the car?

  TANIA: That’s all fine. Got the petrol.

  PHIL: But?

  TANIA: Did you get any food?

  PHIL: Nup. Just grabbed my pencil case, and ID. You were bringing the food.

  TANIA: They hardly left any. Think my sisters have been selling it.

  PHIL: Isn’t one of them going down?

  TANIA: Yeah. Show me your ID. Is it good?

  PHIL gets out his ID.

  PHIL: It’s good.

  TANIA: International Student Association. Same as mine.

  PHIL: You’re twenty-one.

  TANIA: And you’re twenty. They’ll have to let us out.

  PHIL: Say that we got lost on a back road visiting a mate.

  TANIA: You look too young.

  PHIL: For what?

  TANIA: For twenty.

  PHIL: And you? Twenty-one? At least the photo matches. You’re tired.

  TANIA: You look fucked.

  She lifts up his shirt behind him and checks his back.

  You don’t have a bloody rash, do you?

  PHIL: No! [Pause.] Define M-3.

  TANIA: M-3 is all cash, with bank deposits and…

  PHIL: Come on.

  TANIA: … and… something… Fuck!

  PHIL: You need me.

  TANIA: You need the car.

  PHIL: You want to work out what we’re doing once we get there. But we have to stay on top of the game, competitive, that way we’ll be motivated.

  TANIA: I’m going to do better than you are.

  PHIL: That’s the spirit. You’re wrong, but that’s the spirit.

  TANIA: So what do we do once we’re in Sandcastle?

  PHIL: How d’you mean?

  TANIA: Food. Shelter.

  PHIL: Get real—it’s a panel van.

  TANIA: That’s where I’m sleeping.

  PHIL: Fuck off then.

  TANIA: What about food then?

  PHIL: We’ll get what we need.

  TANIA: We haven’t got it.

  PHIL: We’ll work out something. [He looks her up and down.] We’ll work out something.

  TANIA: I’m so hungry, Phil. I’m so hungry.

  PHIL: Believe.

  SIXTEENTH

  Follows straight on from the previous scene.

  SALLY enters, walking with something similar to a drunken swagger. She is carrying a crumpled brown paper bag with something in it. She puts in on the ground.

  SALLY: Not giving up, are youse?

  PHIL and TANIA freeze in fright.

  Were you digging up some grub, Phil?

  TANIA: Phil—

  PHIL: Why don’t you get stuffed, you piece of shit?

  He goes up to her and pushes her over with his foot.

  TANIA: Phil!

  PHIL: You made that happen.

  TANIA: Come on. Before she dobs us in again.

  SALLY: Nice hole, Phil.

  PHIL: Yeah, just for you. Serves you right. You wanted to stay here, go on. Be our guest. Stay here in Hollow. We’re looking to the future.

  TANIA: Come on, Phil.

  TANIA moves to leave for good.

  SALLY: You hungry?

  TANIA stops.

  I’m not hungry anymore. I’m fine. In the paper bag. Brought some milk.

  PHIL: Bullshit.

  TANIA runs to the bag and grabs it. She pulls out a container. PHIL grabs the other container in the bag. TANIA drinks it straight away. PHIL sniffs the container.

  You cunt.

  SALLY: What?

  TANIA starts choking and gasping. SALLY falls about, cackling.

  PHIL: [to TANIA] Why didn’t you smell it first, you idiot?

  TANIA is gasping and coughing.

  It smelt like Draino. Why did you drink it?

  PHIL chucks the stuff at SALLY. TANIA tries to retch.

  Get in the car, Tania. Get in the car. Don’t try to vomit. It’ll burn your throat on the way up again, you fool. You fool! Get in the car! Fuck. I’ll have to drive.

  PHIL bustles TANIA away with him. He just remembers to pick up his pencil case and take it with him. SALLY keeps on laughing like a little child. She starts picking up petals and watching them drop, laughing when they do. Suddenly she jumps up and stands. She yells at the pile.

  SALLY: You lazy-arsed bludgers! Do I have to do everything?! Serves you right! Serves you right!

  She semi-collapses and crawls into the hole that PHIL dug.

  Well away from the tree, at the perimeter.

  A security guard, JONESY, walks on and meets PHIL who is coming from the opposite direction.

  JONESY: What’s wrong with your car, mate. Turn back.

  PHIL nervously smiles and puts on a very broad country accent.

  PHIL: Aw, mate, transmission’s stuffed on the old banger, must have strayed into this off me mate’s property.

  JONESY: What were you doing?

  PHIL: Study at the
Ag College in Sandcastle, mate. We all do.

  JONESY: [indicating TANIA, offstage] What, she do Ag too?

  PHIL: Look, I can understand why you’d want a frigging border around Hollow, the hole.

  JONESY: Yeah.

  PHIL: Don’t you do the bouncing at the Standard?

  JONESY: Yeah. We did. But we got contracted for this. Haven’t been back home for weeks. Feels like months.

  PHIL: Yeah, well it oughta blow over soon, eh mate?

  JONESY: See your ID.

  PHIL: Sure thing, mate.

  He produces his ID.

  JONESY: Twenty.

  PHIL: Sweet.

  JONESY: [pointing off to TANIA] I’ll need to see hers, too.

  PHIL: What?

  JONESY: I’ll need to see hers.

  PHIL: Yeah, understandable. Wouldn’t want any mongrel from Hollow getting through, would ya? Bloody awful place these days, by the sound of it.

  JONESY: [calling] Miss. Forward.

  PHIL: She’s feeling a bit under the weather, what with the kid and that. Gotta get back to Sandcastle.

  JONESY: Get her.

  PHIL goes offstage and drags TANIA in. She is just about doubled over in pain; she looks incredibly unwell. She is carrying two pencil cases.

  TANIA: What? What’s going on?

  JONESY: ID.

  PHIL gives her ID to him.

  She twenty-one?

  PHIL: [to TANIA] Darlin’, you lied to me.

  He laughs. JONESY is unmoved.

  JONESY: What part of Sandcastle?

  TANIA stumbles. PHIL catches her.

  PHIL: Sorry?

  JONESY: You live in Sandcastle. What part?

  Silence.

  All right, then. Haven’t you heard? They’ve raised the absolute no-readmittance age here.

  PHIL: What, mate?

  JONESY: They raised it to twenty-two.

  PHIL loses his accent.

  PHIL: What?!

  JONESY: Can’t let you in. Most fake IDs don’t go over twenty-two. Just enough to get you into a pub maybe, but not out of a quarantine.

  TANIA: But we’ve got exams.

  PHIL: We have to do our exams. [Beat.] We’re both fucked if we stay in Hollow.

  JONESY indicates TANIA to PHIL. PHIL takes a moment and then pushes TANIA forward. JONESY circles her, slowly undoing his protective suit and reaching inside to undo his fly. TANIA is only half-aware and looks about to be violently ill.

  It won’t take long, Tan.

  TANIA: My… my…

  JONESY: What’s she saying?

  He approaches her and touches her face to hold her head and look in her eyes. TANIA tries to pull her head away from his grasp.