Butcher

Nicolas Billon

• Publisher: Coach House Books
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781770563971
• Topic: Literatura
• Subtopic: Arte dramático canadiense

An old man in a military uniform is dumped at the police station—he won't speak English but has a lawyer's card in his pocket. A seemingly innocuous encounter gets stranger and stranger as we gradually realize no one is who they seem and the Balkan wars' traumas continue to play out. The "It Kid" of Canadian theater, award-winning playwright Nicolas Billon, returns with a devastating parable.

Nicolas Billon 's plays and translations have been produced at the Stratford Festival, Soulpepper Theatre, and Canadian Stage. Fault Lines won the Governor General's Award, and his first play, The Elephant Song, is being developed into a film starring Catherine Keener.

Scene 1

Lights up.

The spartan office of a police station. It is void of personality: greyish walls, metal furniture, industrial lighting.

Those who enter this room often feel queasy: it’s the faint wave of institutional nausea.

A small, grilled window provides the only hint of a world beyond. Below the window is a steam radiator. It clangs every now and then.

On top of a filing cabinet is a small, sad-looking Christmas tree with multicoloured lights.

Slumped on a chair is JOSEF, dressed in a military uniform that has seen better days. He’s exhausted, in part from fatigue but also from years of running and hiding and secrecy. There’s a Santa hat on his head.

Two men loom over him: LAMB and HAMILTON.

Lamb wears a cheap but functional suit. He’s made a minimal effort to clean up for work.

Hamilton wears a dripping wet trench coat. There’s the faint trace of a British accent when he speaks.

Josef is in a daze. A grimace of pain crosses his face. We’ll soon find out why.

Hamilton looks at Josef, examines his features. Lamb watches Hamilton.

HAMILTON: Sorry.

LAMB: No?

HAMILTON: No.

LAMB: You’re sure?

HAMILTON: I’m sure.

LAMB: Take another look.

Hamilton looks at Josef again.

HAMILTON: I wish I could help, but … I’ve never seen this man before.

LAMB: So he doesn’t look familiar at all … ?

Hamilton shakes his head, shrugs.

LAMB: Damn. (sighs) I took this shift ’cause I figured it’d be quiet, ya know?

But instead, I’m stuck with … (half-hearted salute) Sergeant Santa.

HAMILTON: Has he said anything?

LAMB: Nothing except for … (checks his notes) ‘Ne-chu-vi-nicho-rachi.’

At least that’s what it sounds like. He said it / every time –

JOSEF: (slurs) Ne ću vi ničo rači …

LAMB: Right. That.

HAMILTON: Is he drunk?

LAMB: There’s no alcohol on his breath. He was a bit wobbly on his feet, though. He’s under the influence of something.

HAMILTON: Drugs?

Lamb shrugs.

HAMILTON: And he said that every time you what?

LAMB: Said what?

HAMILTON: The, thing, sentence … ‘Ne-chu-vi’-whatever.

LAMB: Oh yeah. Every time I asked him a question. Why? Any idea what he might be saying?

Hamilton shakes his head.

LAMB: I thought it was Russian at first, but no, it’s some obscure Eastern European … (checks his notes) Lavinian.

HAMILTON: I have a colleague who’s from there.

LAMB: You think he’s up right now?

HAMILTON: Uh … Not at three in the morning, no.

LAMB: Yeah. It’s just … I called for a translator, but on Christmas Eve? God knows when he’ll get here. If.

Oh, and I guess it’s technically Christmas now. Merry Christmas.

HAMILTON: … Thanks.

LAMB: (indicates his notes) Anyway, I tried Google translating this but apparently I can’t spell for shit because it tells me he’s saying, ‘I want very much to woo you.’

HAMILTON: I doubt that, somehow.

LAMB: Yeah, otherwise he ain’t gonna like my answer. (glances at Hamilton) Not that gay isn’t, you know … (gives a thumbs up)

So whaddya make of the whole military uniform? That’s / really throwing me off –

HAMILTON: You said he had my card on him?

LAMB: Oh yeah. Wait’ll you see this.

Lamb opens a desk drawer and pulls out a metal hook attached to a string. Baited on the hook is a card.

HAMILTON: Jesus.

LAMB: Had this around his neck. Ever seen one before?

HAMILTON: Is that for shark fishing?

LAMB: It’s a butcher’s hook, you know, for meat. My uncle brought one home for Halloween one year ’cause I was dressing up as Captain Hook. (holds up the hook and sneers like a pirate) Yar!

Startled, Hamilton takes a step back.

LAMB: Didn’t mean to … Sorry.

Hamilton gestures, as if to say, ‘It’s fine.’

LAMB: Anyway. My mom didn’t let me use it, she was afraid I’d take some kid’s eye out with it …

Lamb removes the card from the hook and hands it to Hamilton.

HAMILTON: (reads from the card) ‘Prohapsi me.’^[1]

LAMB: Google says it means ‘Arrest me’ in Lavinian. That’s how I figured where he’s from. At least I know I spelled it right.

Hamilton flips the card over.

LAMB: That’s your business card, yeah?

HAMILTON: … It is.

LAMB: You see why I’m confused that you don’t know him.

HAMILTON: I’m as confused as you are.

LAMB: I’m getting that vibe.

HAMILTON: (to Josef) Sir? Sir. (points to business card) How did you get my card?

JOSEF: Ne ću vi ničo rači.^[2]

LAMB: At least he’s consistent.

HAMILTON: (to Josef) Did someone give this to you?

LAMB: I don’t think he speaks English.

HAMILTON: Yeah. (looks at Josef) Does he even understand where he is?

LAMB: Dunno. When the two kids brought him in, he / was a bit –

HAMILTON: Kids?

LAMB: Right, so, these two kids – well, these two young guys or whatever, they show up at the station around midnight or so carrying our friend here. Officer Taylor, the desk clerk – you met him downstai...