Act 1 —
Boston Massachusetts, 1873–1877, and sometimes Baddeck, Nova Scotia, 1922
Late 1922. Dark. Mabel, in shadow, is sitting in one of two wooden deck chairs outside of the house in Beinn Bhreagh (“ben vreeah”).
Berta, Gertrude, and Gardiner are seen in shadow, as if in a Victorian portrait. Eliza is in a separate shadow space. As Mabel speaks, Eliza signs the words. Mabel does not see them.
Mabel lights a candle or kerosene lamp, in remembrance of another candle/lamp from a long time ago. She tries to conjure a vision from the past.
She watches it catch and fill the space with light.
Mabel: I will know if you are listening.
Long pause.
Even if I cannot hear you at all, even if I cannot see your lips, I will know if you are listening.
Beat. She looks out on the waves.
The waves come in and they retreat. They wash over and pull out to sea anything that is not firmly affixed to the earth. We get caught up in the movement, lulled by the gentle ones, surprised by the ones that crash and pull us with them, drag us under, or pull us away and towards. Away and towards something new that we couldn’t have imagined that is far out to sea. Something that we are pushed, pulled, and drawn to against our better judgment, or with no judgment at all.
These nights I keep watch for a flicker of light out in the bay, a little bobbing twinkle of a cigar . . .
The quiet sound of Chopin’s Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2 seems to be formed from the sound of the waves, then becomes more clearly the sound of a piano.
With them comes the shadow figure of Alexander Graham Bell, just out of reach.
Mabel inhales audibly. She feels his distant presence.
Silence is a beautiful thing.
For me it is the only thing.
Mabel rises and moves towards the dim-lit Alec. He retreats into the shadows.
Berta and Gertrude retreat into shadow. Gardiner approaches Mabel, unseen by her. He touches Mabel’s arm. Mabel looks at his face. Eliza remains in her space, unacknowledged by the others.
Gardiner: Come, Mabel.
Mabel: Yes, Papa.
She becomes her younger self.
Boston 1873. Alexander Graham Bell’s shabby office. Mabel presents very well, with poise and posture, although her speech is less than perfect.
Gardiner: Mr. Bell is an excellent teacher and tutor.
Mabel: But, Papa, I already have a wonderful tutor.
A beat as she takes in the decor.
How would a gentleman find himself in a place such as this?
Gardiner: I remind you, dear daughter, that we are not here to admire his taste in furnishings, but to receive his assistance with your speech.
Mabel: Dear father, out that window is a graveyard.
Beat. Gardiner also takes in the office decor and the graveyard.
Gardiner: He is a Scotsman. We must allow him some leeway in his geographic choices.
Alec enters the office. He is wearing a shabby suit.
Alec: Good afternoon, Mr. Hubbard. I am so sorry to keep you waiting, my lesson ran long —
Gardiner: (slightly disapproving) Good afternoon, Mr. Bell.
Alec: I was making a breakthrough . . . one of the children had mastered the letter “o,”’ which has caused —
Gardiner: Of course . . .
Alec touches Mabel’s arm. She pulls it back. Alec realizes the misstep.
I don’t want to waste time, Mr. Bell. We have come here so that Mabel and I may meet you and come to some judgment —
Alec: I have found my father’s Visible Speech system to work quite effectively. It is difficult, you see, for those who cannot hear the sounds to mimic them —
Alec gestures to the Visible Speech poster on the wall. Mabel looks at it, intrigued. As she looks at it, it appears in a strong, warm light, capturing her attention.
The following portion of the scene plays out without vocal sound.
Gardiner: [And this system of yours, it works?]
Alec: [Well it is not my system, Mr. Hubbard. I am only the disseminator of my father’s work.]
Gardiner: [Mabel is quite advanced . . . Mabel...
