Holy Day

Andrew Bovell

• Éditeur: Currency Press
• Année: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781925359077
• Sujet: Literatur
• Sous-sujet: Drama

On the white frontier in mid-nineteenth century Australia, a lone, bloodied woman arrives at a traveller's rest in the midst of a violent desert storm with a shocking story to tell. Aboriginal people have allegedly murdered her husband and stolen her infant child. But an Aboriginal woman has a different story to tell. What would cause a missionary's wife to lie? What chance does the word of an Aboriginal woman have against hers?%##CHAR13##%%##CHAR13##%A chilling mystery that draws together the lives of four extraordinary women and their men, all struggling to survive in a hostile and misunderstood landscape.

OPENING

A mission station.

Black clouds loom over a vast desert plain. Lightning cuts the sky on the horizon. Thunder rumbles in the distance.

A woman emerges from the remnant smoke of a fire. Her face is pale. Her hair has fallen. She is bleeding from a cut above her eye. She holds a shawl draped in her open hands. She is praying.

ELIZABETH: Do my justice, Lord, and fight my fight against a faithless people. From the deceitful and impious, rescue me. From the impure, protect me. For You, Lord, are my strength. Why do you keep me so far away? Send forth Your light and Your fidelity. They shall lead me on and bring me to the Holy Day. Then I will go to the altar of God. Then I shall eat of His body and drink of His blood, the blood of my gladness and joy…

A single gunshot is heard. The shawl drops from her hands.

A hundred crows darken the sky, startled by the shot.

ELIZABETH is still.

Now it is finished…

She does not move.

The sound of thunder in the distance.

ACT ONE

SCENE ONE

The Traveller’s Rest—a halfway house between distant settlements.

Dusk.

NORA RYAN is chopping wood. She handles the axe as well as any man. We watch the rhythm of her work, the arc of the axe and the split of the wood. She looks up at the sound of approaching thunder.

OBEDIENCE, a girl on the cusp of womanhood, comes to the door of the Rest. They listen as the thunder roles away to silence.

NORA: Light the lamps, girl… Keep the night away.

OBEDIENCE turns back into the Rest. NORA gathers her pile of wood.

Let the world know we’re here… As if the world cares.

A woman is standing on the edge of the clearing. We sense she has been there some time, watching.

LINDA: Missus…

NORA looks up.

Some work, Missus.

OBEDIENCE watches from the door.

NORA: [seeing her] Go inside.

OBEDIENCE moves back into the Rest.

I’ve got nothing.

LINDA: Some tucker then.

NORA: No.

LINDA: Just some bread, hey?

NORA: I said I’ve got nothing for you, now clear off.

Beat.

LINDA: Storm’s coming, Missus.

LINDA moves away into the darkness. NORA watches her go.

Inside the Rest.

OBEDIENCE moves away from the door from where she has been watching. She proceeds to light the lamps. She hums a sweet tune as she works. The glow from the lamps gradually reveals a simple bush cottage, tenuous shelter against harsh surrounds. OBEDIENCE becomes quiet as NORA enters with her pile of wood and places it by the stove. She stokes the fire as OBEDIENCE washes down the table in preparation for the night’s custom.

NORA: Who taught you that tune?

OBEDIENCE: No one.

NORA: Just came into your head, did it?

OBEDIENCE: Must’ve.

NORA: Those mission blacks been down here?

OBEDIENCE: No.

NORA: You stay away from them.

OBEDIENCE: It’s just a song.

NORA: It’s a bloody stinking English hymn and I’ll not have it sung in my house. [She stokes the fire and checks a pot on the stove.] They talk to you much about God?

OBEDIENCE shakes her head.

Good, ’cause God’s a big ugly whitefella. He doesn’t come round here much ’cause he knows if he does I’ll spit in his face and kick him in the arse.

OBEDIENCE smiles.

You think I’m joking.

OBEDIENCE: I heard…

NORA: Here we go…

OBEDIENCE: [lighting the lamp at the door...