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ACTS
Riccardo Galgani
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Act One
MARIE, an old woman in her eighties, sits on a chair by a table in the kitchen. She sits on the left of the table, facing the stage. There is another chair on the right and a stool in the middle. She looks out the window frame to her right. Throughout she fluctuates from lucidity to distraction, to regression, to a catatonic state.
MARIE. Yiv burn’t it.
Pause.
MARIE. Yiv burn’t the toast.
JACK. Wha’ are yi sayin’?
MARIE. I said yiv burn’t the toast.
JACK, an old man in his eighties, enters.
JACK. Can yi no watch it yersel?
MARIE. Yi know fine well I can’t.
JACK. Gie it a scrape.
MARIE. I’m no eatin’ burn’t toast.
JACK. Scrape off the burn’t bits.
MARIE. I’ll have a fresh slice.
JACK. You’ll eat what’s there.
MARIE. I’m no eatin’ that.
JACK. T’ heng wi yi.
Silence. MARIE takes a bite of the toast.
MARIE. I’m no eatin’ the crust.
JACK. Nobodies askin’ yi t’ eat the crust.
MARIE. Aye, well, I’m no eatin’ it anyway.
Silence.
MARIE. Aye, a wee dog would be nice.
JACK. What are yi sayin now?
MARIE. I said a wee dog would be nice.
JACK. What would yi want a wee dog fir?
MARIE. A wee something t’ pet.
JACK. Aye, an pass yer crusts to.
He picks up the paper.
MARIE. What kind o’ day is it?
JACK. What kind o’ day?
MARIE. Aye, what kind o’ day?
JACK. What? Are yi thinking o’ going out?
Pause.
MARIE. No. That tree’s looking a wee bit bare.
JACK. Aye, well it would.
MARIE. Them leaves are having a time of it, trying to hold on in the wind.
JACK. Aye.
MARIE. Was it windy when yi went out for yer paper?
JACK. Aye, it was.
MARIE. Makes yer eyes stream.
Pause.
MARIE. Who’s that man there? He should be away at work in Edinburgh the day.
Pause.
JACK. Put the radio on.
MARIE. What do you want the radio on for?
JACK. It’s something to listen to at least.
MARIE. You’ve got your paper.
JACK. Aye, I’ve got my paper.
Silence for a few minutes. MARIE’s head falls forward and she sleeps for a few moments. The doorbell rings.
MARIE. Who will that be?
JACK. How the heng would I know.
MARIE. It’ll be the cleaner.
JACK. It’ll no be the cleaner.
The bell rings again and JACK gets up.
MARIE. Jack, who is it?
Pause.
MARIE. Jack?
Into the kitchen walks a man in his early fifties.
PAT. Mum.
MARIE. Who’s that?
PAT. It’s me.
MARIE. Me?
PAT. Yes, me.
MARIE. Who?
PAT. Pat.
MARIE. Pat?
PAT. Aye, Pat.
MARIE. Is that my Pat?
PAT. Aye, it is.
MARIE. Pat, O, I never thought I’d see yi again. Come here so’s I can see yi an’ give yi a kiss. Let me see how well yi are. Oh, Pat.
PAT sits next to MARIE, on the stool, with his back facing the audience. Whenever he gets up and moves about he always returns to this position. MARIE looks at him for a while and then drifts off again, staring vacantly into space and out the window. He sits there and looks at her. JACK has not yet come back into the room and PAT keeps looking at the door.
PAT. How are yi then Mum?
MARIE. O, I’m fine.
PAT. Fine.
MARIE. Aye.
PAT. That’s good.
MARIE. Apart from mi eyes.
PAT. What’s wrong with yer eyes?
MARIE Och, I can’t see out o’ this one at all an’ this one only works every now and then.
PAT. Are yer glasses no good?
MARIE. Aye, me glasses.
JACK comes back into the room. PAT stands up. JACK sits down. PAT, after a pause, sits back down.
PAT. Mum says her eyes are bad.
JACK. There’s nothing wrong wi her eyes.
PAT. What about yersel?
JACK. Aye.
PAT. You’re well?
JACK. I’m aright.
PAT. Good.
JACK. Apart from ma knee.
PAT. Yir knee?
JACK. Aye.
PAT. What’s wrong with yer knee?
JACK. I can’t walk on it too well.
PAT. That’s a shame.
JACK. Aye. It is.
PAT. I know how much yi like yer walks.
JACK. I do.
PAT. I know.
JACK. But not so much now.
PAT. No.
JACK. No.
PAT. D’yi not get out much then?
JACK. Och, out t’ get the papers.
MARIE. That’s not the only place he goes.
JACK. What would you know?
MARIE. How many d’you know that take an hour t’ get the papers an’ come back smellin’ o’ whiskey an’ fallin asleep on the chair for the rest of the day.
PAT. Is that ...
