Brothers of Thunder

Ann Marie Di Mambro

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2015
• eBook ISBN: 9781780015682
• Topic: Literatura
• Subtopic: Arte dramático británico

John, an HIV-positive man, takes refuge with a Roman Catholic priest. A fragile relationship begins to develop between them until a figure from John's past arrives upon the scene. The conflict between them encompasses questions of forgiveness, reconciliation and the role of the church in the modern world.

Ann Marie Di Mambro's play Brothers of Thunder was first staged at the Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, in 1994.

Scene One

Lights up. JAMES at altar, with a list of parish announcements. He does it on automatic pilot.

JAMES. The winners of this month’s 200 Club draw will be announced in the church hall after this mass. So if you’re a member, please go along. This could be your lucky day. Now, Mrs. Morgan is still looking for new members of the choir. Choir practice is at half seven on Thursday. If you’d like to join, just turn up then, that all right Mr. Morgan? Just turn up? Right. Just turn up. Thursdays. Half past seven.

As he talks, lights up on JOHN at other side of the stage. He dumps his bags, bored, edgy.

The trip to St. Bernadette’s Grotto. There’s one or two places left on the bus, according to Mrs. Dolan. So, if you’d like to go, there’s still time to get your name down. And finally, as I’m sure you all know, Father Allan is leaving us. Today’s his last day. Mrs. Ross has organised a presentation for him and she’s asked me to thank you for your generosity. Now please stand for the final blessing.

He makes the sign of the cross.

The mass is ended. Go in peace to love and serve the lord. Amen. Oh, on your way out, will you please make sure you return your hymn books.

He removes his surplice and looks round, surprised to see JOHN, goes over to him.

Lights down on altar.

John?

JOHN. Yes.

JAMES. I’m James. (He shakes JOHN’s hand with a warmth that is not returned.) I wasn’t expecting you till later on this afternoon. Were you at that mass?

JOHN. No.

JAMES. That all you’ve got?

JOHN. Yes.

JAMES. Here, let me help you with them.

Before JAMES can help, JOHN picks them up.

Come on, I’ll show you up.

They go offstage. Lights up on room as they come in. JAMES’s attitude is warm, anxious to please. JOHN is withdrawn, wanting to be alone. The bed is bare with sheets folded, ready on the bed.

Here it is. All right for you?

JOHN glances round but shows no reaction.

I’m sorry it’s not more welcoming. Look at it. The fire’s not lit. The bed’s not made. I was going to spend the afternoon getting it ready for you. I don’t have a housekeeper you see. I look after everything myself. (Smiles.) Explains why it’s never done right. Come on, I’ll give you a hand to make the bed.

JOHN. It’s all right.

JAMES. Two minutes.

JAMES starts to make the bed. JOHN helps reluctantly.

I did iron these sheets for you, which is a rare honour I can tell you. I love watching the nurses making beds. Don’t mind watching the nurses at any time, come to that. The way they just fling the sheets in the air and let them flutter down without so much as a crease, and then they sort of karate chop the corners in and voilà! Perfection. You hungry?

JOHN. I’ll manage from here (i.e. the bed).

JAMES carries on making the bed. JOHN abandons it.

JAMES. Have you eaten?

JOHN. I’m not hungry.

JAMES. We’re having a farewell lunch for Father Allan downstairs. It would be nice if you joined us.

JOHN. No thank you.

JAMES. You’d be very welcome.

JOHN shakes his head.

You sure?

JOHN. Yes.

JAMES. There’s more than enough to go round.

JOHN. I said no thank you.

JAMES. Fine.

JAMES a bit taken aback by the tone.

Anyway, the kitchen’s downstairs. You can use it whenever you like. All the time if you like. But look over here. This used to be the housekeeper’s flat so it’s got this kitchen area here. Look – dishes in here. Space for your foodstuff. Wee fridge over here. (He smiles as he pats the microwave.) Let me tell you a story about this microwave. One of the local shops donated it last year as first prize in the raffle at the school’s Christmas panto. They asked me to draw the tickets and guess what. I won, didn’t I. Brought the house down. I wanted to give it back, of course, raffle it again, but the headmistress insisted I keep it. Said I’d find a good use for it. So here it is. But you can use the downstairs kitchen whenever you like.

JOHN. This’ll do fine.

JAMES. Just you suit yourself.

A lull. It bothers JAMES but does not bother JOHN.

Anyway, there’s various groups use downstairs during the day. Making tea and what have you. So feel free to mix in. Any time you fancy some company just wander down.

A lull.

JAMES rubs his hands together, smiles at JOHN expectantly.

So?

JOHN wanders away from kitchen area, goes to the window, looks out, unhappily (at the hospital across the road). JAMES watches him, them goes over, stands behind him, follows his gaze.

JAMES. Not a bad view from here, eh?

No reply.

JAMES. You’re nice and handy anyway.

No reply.

I said you’re nice and handy.

No reply.

So . . . Gordon was telling me you’re a Catholic.

JOHN. What?

JAMES. Gordon. The social worker across the road. He was saying –

JOHN cuts him off, vicious.

JOHN. And what else did Gordon tell you? That I’m a homosexual? That I got AIDS because I fucked one guy. Just one guy.

JAMES. Don’t be shy, son. Just come right out and say what you mean.

JOHN. I don’t like him talking about me.

JAMES. He wasn’t talking about you.

JOHN. Yes he does. He tells me about other people. So he must talk about me.

JAMES. He doesn’t mean anything.

JOHN. I don’t like it. I know he does it and I don’t like it.

JAMES. He told me very little.

JOHN. The tragic story of the brilliant young student, his whole career ahead of him, infected by the only partner he ever had. Is that how he told it?

JAMES. No.

JOHN. Anyway, he’s got it all wrong. I was a stunningly mediocre student and de...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Contents
• Introduction
• Scene One
• About the Author
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information