Crocodile Fever

Meghan Tyler

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781786827883
• Edition: 1
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Irish History
• Index: History

Northern Ireland, 1989. A farmhouse window smashes, and rebellious Fianna Devlin crashes back into the life of her pious sister Alannah. Together for the first time in years, when they're forced to confront their tyrannical father's hideous legacy, all hell breaks loose. Fuelled by Taytos, gin, 80s tunes and a chainsaw, Meghan Tyler's surreal Crocodile Fever is a grotesque black comedy celebrating sisterhood whilst reminding us that the pressure cooker of The Troubles is closer than we imagine.

Act One

It is the hot dead of night. The air is oppressive – a thunderstorm threatens to break. The kitchen of the Devlin’s isolated farmhouse, refurbished in the very late 70s/very early 80s; cream laminate cabinets, pale tiled flooring, a modest stove, a wooden table, matching chairs.

Downstage right is an entrance leading to the hallway, where the staircase is – this is covered by a curtain. Stage left is a door that leads to the outside world, accompanied by a little telephone table with a mirror hanging above it. Upstage, over the sink, there is a large window, which stares out over the clammy darkness. A helicopter sounds overhead. Occasionally a searchlight sweeps across the fields outside.

The room is uncomfortably clean. Various male-heavy religious figurines, and an old photograph of a happy family, are the only tolerable knickknacks. A woman cleans the stove – precise, intense, hot. This is ALANNAH DEVLIN.

After a few moments she stops. She timidly glances to the hallway before dislodging a loose floor tile. She tuts, scolds herself, and ducks into a cupboard to much on a stash of Tayto Cheese and Onion crisps – staring at the floor tile grudgingly.

After a moment, ALANNAH dashes to the floor tile, loosens it again, and removes a pristine packet of Superking Menthol Cigarettes and some incense. Ritualistically, she lights the incense as she shuffles to the door. A frog croaks, unnoticed by ALANNAH.

ALANNAH’s attention is slowly drawn, ever-fearfully outwards as she becomes aware of someone singing “Some Say the Devil is Dead” by The Wolfe Tones outside.

FIANNA: (Off.) “Some say the divil is dead, the divil is dead, the divil is dead, Some say the divil is dead and buried in Killarney-

ALANNAH:

FIANNA: (Off.) “More say he rose again, more say he rose again-

ALANNAH:

ALANNAH cautiously approaches the door.

FIANNA: (Off.) “More say he rose again, and joined the British Army!“

ALANNAH swings the door open to reveal FIANNA DEVLIN, a wreath round her neck, a smile on her face.

FIANNA: Well, our one!

ALANNAH:

FIANNA: What’s the fucking craic like?

ALANNAH shuts the door in her face.

ALANNAH: No. No no no, never no-

FIANNA: Stop snoozin’ will ye? Let me the fuck in.

ALANNAH:

FIANNA: Quit acting the maggot like-

ALANNAH: There’s nobody home!

FIANNA: What are ye sayin’?

ALANNAH: There’s- oh, Sacred Heart….

FIANNA: Want me to blow the door off the hinges here?

ALANNAH: Oh, please… oh, Lord have mercy…

FIANNA disappears. ALANNAH peers through the letterbox. She sighs. Says a small “thanks be to God”. A rock smashes through the kitchen window.

ALANNAH: Fianna-!

FIANNA: Well!

ALANNAH: The- the window! You- you broke the window!

FIANNA: It’s just a window.

ALANNAH: Why in blazes would you break it?

FIANNA: I couldn’t hear ye.

ALANNAH: That is no excuse to break it!

FIANNA: You’ll thank me later – sure it’s muggy to all fuck tonight. I’ve let the air in.

FIANNA starts to climb through the window.

ALANNAH: Goodness gracious, stop!

FIANNA: What stick has crawled up your arse now?

ALANNAH: You- look, you can’t just utilise a broken window as you would a front door.

FIANNA: Eh, I believe I can utilise a broken window when the front door was so lovingly slammed in my face, so-

ALANNAH: Sacred Heart! Stop! Your boots!

FIANNA: What about my boots?

ALANNAH: Well… they are filthy, and the worktop is so shiny and perfect and you can not- will you please- can you please not-

FIANNA: Open the door then.

ALANNAH: Eh- well- w-w-well, no, I-…

FIANNA: Wise up, Allie. Do you want the searchlights to catch me, like?

ALANNAH: I- I- I...