LEPRECHAUN

 

SCENE ONE:  THE STATION

(Lights up on a bus cutaway up stage center; a bus is heard departing; Kevin runs on, with Grace tailing shortly behind; he looks around, then collapses in disappointment)

KEVIN:  I told you we’d be late.  There’s no one here.  Oh, Jesus.  I need a drink.

GRACE:  It’s just after seven a.m.  We can’t be late.  You made us leave the hotel an hour early.

KEVIN:  I told you we should plan to leave two hours early.  You never know what’s going to happen to slow things down.  Like your hair.

GRACE:  What?

KEVIN:  Nothing.  (Pause)  Your hair.  That’s all.  It just takes you a little time to fix your hair.  I have to . . .

GRACE:  You have a problem with my hair?

KEVIN:  No, just with how long it takes to dry.  (Pause)  Well, seriously.  A mop in a bucket dries faster.

GRACE:  A mop in a bucket.  How nice.  Happy anniversary to you, too.

KEVIN:  I didn’t mean . . . you know . . . our anniversary is in two days.  (She stares at him)  Your hair is beautiful.  It’s just that you take a while to get ready.  That’s all.  It’s beautiful hair.  Like you, beautiful.  I didn’t mean anything by it.  I’m just nervous, and it looks like we missed our bus.

GRACE:  Hmm.

KEVIN:  I love you.

GRACE:  I’ll let it go, for now.  And we couldn’t have missed the bus.

KEVIN:  All I’m saying is you can’t take chances—not you, specifically, but people—you can’t take chances.  You need to plan for the unexpected.  Especially in an unfamiliar place.

GRACE:  In a foreign country.

KEVIN:  This isn’t foreign.  It’s Ireland.

GRACE:  Honey, if you didn’t know it we’re American.  On an anniversary trip in a foreign land.

KEVIN:  But it’s Ireland, my ancestral homeland.  Which we can’t tour now because we missed the bus, because we only left an hour early.

GRACE:  The hotel is around the corner.  It’s five minutes away, at the most.

KEVIN:  We missed the bus.  We should have left three hours early.

GRACE:  We can’t be late.  I think we’re early.  That’s why no one is here.

KEVIN:  We’re late.

GRACE:  The bus is scheduled to leave twenty minutes from now.

KEVIN:  See, I gave us an hour.  Where did the other forty minutes go if the hotel is five minutes away?  It should be fifty-five minutes to go time and no one’s here.  We’re late.

GRACE:  The only thing you’ve ever been late for is our wedding.

KEVIN:  I wasn’t late.  I got there an hour and a half before the wedding.

GRACE:  And passed out downstairs.

KEVIN:  I fell asleep.  I was exhausted.

GRACE:  You were still drunk from the night before, and you were already drinking at nine in the morning.

KEVIN:  Asleep.  I was tired.  And I wasn’t drinking.  It was a Bloody Mary.

GRACE:  My father thought you abandoned me on the altar.

KEVIN:  He never liked me.  (Pause)  Well, I didn’t, did I?  Abandon you?  Here we are a year later celebrating our anniversary.  Years from now you’ll laugh about the falling asleep thing.  (Absolutely cold silence)  All right, it’s still fresh for you.  A year may be too soon.  (Pause)  Happy anniversary, baby.  (Silence)  Seriously.  I love you.

GRACE:  I love you, too.  But you are pushing it right now.

(There is a moment of silence)

KEVIN:  All I’m saying is I told you we’d be late if we didn’t get going.

MICHAEL (rising from the floor of the bus):  Oh, let it go.  Shut the hell up, will ye?  (Grace screams and Kevin jumps)  You’re earlier and louder than the feckin’ roosters.

KEVIN:  Who the hell are you?

MICHAEL:  I’m a feckin’ leprechaun.

GRACE:  A leprechaun, but you’re too . . .

KEVIN:  You’re Irish?

(Beat)

MICHAEL:  I’m a French leprechaun.  (Beat)  Le Prechaun.  (Silence)  So then it’s a surprise finding an Irishman in County Clare, is it?

KEVIN:  Yes, it . . . I wasn’t expecting . . . I mean, I didn’t know you were there.   I thought we were alone.  Honey, he’s Irish.

GRACE:  Yes, dear.  A leprechaun.  (Quizzically, to herself)  A giant leprechaun.

MICHAEL:  Please don’t tell me you’re here for the tour.

KEVIN:  Yes.

MARGARET’S VOICE:  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.  Will the saints not save us?

KEVIN:  Who was . . .

MICHAEL:  Don’t let it worry ye now.  So you’re here for the grand tour?

KEVIN:  Yes, how did you guess?

MICHAEL:  Lucky, I guess.  You’re clearly a tourist, then.

KEVIN:  Yes, yes, we are.

MICHAEL:  Let me guess . . . I’m usually pretty good at this . . . Japanese?

KEVIN:  What?

MICHAEL:  Nigerian?

GRACE:  We’re American.

MICHAEL:  Really?  American.  That surprises me.

KEVIN:  You’re pulling my leg.

GRACE:  We are American.  From Wisconsin.

MICHAEL:  I thought that was Canada.

GRACE:  No, it’s north of Illinois.

MICHAEL:  A suburb of Chicago then?  Where the gangsters live.

KEVIN:  You are pulling my leg, aren’t you?

MARGARET (showing herself):  I’ll soon pull your leg until I pull it off.  (Grace screams again and Kevin holds her)  Who the bloody hell is it making such a ruckus when a woman is trying to sleep?

KEVIN:  Hi, I’m Kevin.  And this is my . . .

GRACE:  Grace.  I’m Grace.

MARGARET:  I wish by Grace you’d go.

(Kevin moves over next to Grace; Clancy enters singing The Lark in the Morning; he is dressed in full green with shamrocks, a green hat, and he carries a shillelagh; he speaks in a more pronounced and exaggerated brogue than any of the other characters)

CLANCY:      The lark in the morning she arises from her nest
And she ascends all in the air with the dew upon her breast
And with the pretty ploughboy she'll whistle and she'll sing
And at night she'll return to her own nest again.

(He stops, looks for approval, and bows; Grace starts to clap until Margaret glares at her,

then stops)

MARGARET:  Can a soul get no rest?  The larks are still sleeping, me laddo.

MICHAEL:  Perhaps they were.  May I help you?  Are you lost?

CLANCY:  I’m looking for the tour bus.

MICHAEL (starting to point in another direction):  I think there’s a place . . .

KEVIN:  This is it.  That’s what we’re here for, but we’re late.

MICHAEL:  You’re not late.  This is the bus.  You’re early.  Very early.

TRAVELER (entering):  Excuse me, would you have directions for a weary traveler?

KEVIN:  It’s on Williamson Street.

MARGARET:  Get some rest, but it’ll be impossible to do.

KEVIN:  Wait, that’s back home.  I’m not from here.

MICHAEL:  No, you are not.

KEVIN:  My ancestors were, though.

TRAVELER:  What town would that be?

KEVIN:  Ardmore.

TRAVELER:  Don’t know of it.  I’m lost.

MICHAEL:  Where would ye be goin’?

TRAVELER:  There is a farmer sells goat cheese from a goat they say is a hundred years old.

MICHAEL:  I can tell ye where ‘tis.  I heard she was fifty.

TRAVELER:  Still an old goat.

MICHAEL:  Ye take this road to where it bends and follow the bend until it straightens.  Right after it straightens there is a curve and ye need to follow the curve the opposite way ‘til you be standing in front of the portal dolmen.  Walk about twenty paces and you should see a sign.

MARGARET:  You might not see a sign.

MICHAEL:  There’s a sign.

MARGARET:  It’s behind the shrubs.  If it’s late enough in the year the sign may be covered, so then you would need to look for the hackberry and follow it to the left.

MICHAEL:  Then about five white houses, a blue house, a yellow with a blue door, and when ye see another white house ye should also see a barn.

MARGARET:  It’s white.

MICHAEL:  White.

MARGARET:  With reddish shingles.

MICHAEL:  With reddish shingles.

MARGARET.  Right.

MICHAEL:  Right.  That’s the closest neighbor.

MARGARET:  The closest neighbor.

MICHAEL:  Follow their driveway up to the cattle field, cross it at almost a diagonal with about a fifteen degree bend, all the way to the fencepost.  Climb the fence and you’re there.  The goat is by the house, unless it’s bedtime in which case it may be in the field trying not to have to sleep, but you’re likely to be there before bedtime so you’ll need to pass about four oak trees and a fallen ash to get to the house where the goat resides.

TRAVELER:  Thank you so much.  I’ll be goin’ then.

CLANCY:  May the road rise up to meet you.

(Traveler looks at Clancy, then turns and leaves without a word)

MICHAEL:  ‘Tis a terrible thing to wish a man who’s walkin’.

KEVIN:  Wow, I can’t believe you were able to do that.

MARGARET:  Now that I think a bit it may not have been a hackberry.

MICHAEL:  Then he’ll ask someone else when he gets where he’s not goin’.

(Matilda enters)

MATILDA:  Hello.  Does anyone know where there might be a goat farm?  A gentleman just asked me for directions.  He asked if I didn’t know about the goats, did I pass a hackberry bush.  Or is it a tree?

MARGARET:  It’s a shrub, but it may not be hackberry.

MATILDA:  At any rate, it was terrible English.

MICHAEL:  They are.

MARGARET:  Ah, sure they are.

MICHAEL:  Ye take this road to where it bends and follow the bend until it straightens.

MATILDA:  I don’t need directions.

MICHAEL:  Then why did ye ask?

MATILDA (she takes out a notepad and starts to jot something down):  You are very interesting.  A native?

MICHAEL:  Of?

MATILDA:  Ireland?

MICHAEL:  My parents and their parents and their parents made their home at Ardmore.

MATILDA:  Northwest or southeast?

MICHAEL:  County Waterford.

MATILDA:  Southeast.

KEVIN:  That’s where my ancestors hail from.

MICHAEL:  How did ye know there were two?  Not even most Irishmen know that.

KEVIN:  Every family has a mother and father.

MATILDA:  I know many things.  I study many things.  I study people.

GRACE:  Are you a shrink or something?

MATILDA:  Something.  (Silence; she seems to struggle with formulating a word)  I’m a psychoanthroculturologist.

MARGARET:  Why, there’s no such thing.

MICHAEL:  There is.  Psychoanthroculturologist.  (Beat)  They study the psyches of cultural groups all over the world.

KEVIN:  Do you know everything?

MICHAEL:  I told ye I’m a feckin’ leprechaun.  I’ve been around.

KEVIN:  Do leprechauns know everything?

MARGARET:  Hardly.

CLANCY (crossing to Michael):  So if I catch you I get a pot of gold, right?

MICHAEL:  If you touch me you’ll get a fist of curled fingers.

CLANCY (singing):   There’s a leprechaun in me head, and I wish that I were dead.

                                    For I don’t think he’ll e’er let me be.

MARGARET:  Please stop.

MICHAEL:  Ah, you’re no Irish laddie!

MARGARET:  He sings more than the birds.

2ND TRAVELER:  Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but hear the singing.

MARGARET:  Is that what you call it?

2ND TRAVELER:  I’m looking for a goat farm.

MATILDA:  Is there only one goat farm in all of Ireland?

2ND TRAVELER:  Only one with a three hundred year old goat.

MICHAEL:  I heard she’s a hundred.  (Pause)  Ye take this road to where it bends and follow the bend until it straightens.  There’ll be a man walking and looking for a hackberry tree.  He knows where he’s going.

MARGARET:  Unless it’s not a hackberry.  Then you’ll need to ask further directions.

2ND TRAVELER:  Surely you’re a wise man.

MARGARET:  I’m not a man.

(2nd Traveler exits as Kaisa enters with Kajsa; Kaisa is the name of the puppeteer, Kajsa the puppet)

KAJSA:  I just flew in from Stockholm and boy are my wings tired.

(Everyone stops and stares for a moment)

KAISA:  Hej.

KEVIN:  Hey.

KAISA:  Hej.

ALL:  Hey.

KAISA:  Hej.  Jag heter Kaisa.

GRACE:  What did she say?

KAJSA:  “Hi.  My name is Kaisa.”

GRACE:  Pleased to meet you, Kaisa.  You speak English?

KAJSA:  Yes, I’m a birdbrain.

GRACE:  I . . . but what did she say?  It didn’t sound like English.

KAJSA:  “Hi, my name is Kaisa.”

MATILDA:  I believe you already shared that.

KAJSA:  And my name is Kajsa.

MICHAEL:  It sure doesn’t look like a parrot.

KAJSA:  She said her name is Kaisa.

GRACE:  She said her name is Kaisa?

MARGARET (to Michael):  Speaking of parrots and birdbrains.

KAJSA:  No, she said, “Hi, my name is Kaisa.”  In the first person.  Her name is Kaisa.  With an “I”.  My name is also Kajsa.  But with a “J”.  They sound the same, but they look different.

CLANCY:  She said all that with those few words?

KEVIN:  What language was it?

KAJSA:  Why don’t you ask her?

KEVIN (to Kaisa):  What language are you?

(Silence)

KAJSA:  She doesn’t speak English.

GRACE:  But she’s operating you and you’re speaking . . .

KAJSA:  Listen, just because she has her hand up my ass doesn’t mean she can control me.

CLANCY:  It usually works with me.

(Beat)

KEVIN:  So what language is it?

KAJSA:  Why don’t you ask her?

KEVIN:  She doesn’t speak English.

KAJSA:  Then ask her in Swedish.

KEVIN:  I don’t speak Swedish.  (Sudden realization)  Is she Swedish?

KAJSA:  I didn’t say that.

MICHAEL (to Kaisa):  Er du Svensk?

KAISA:  Ja. Pratar du Svenska?

MICHAEL:  Nay, jag pratar lite Svenska.  Jag er Irlansk.

KAISA:  Oh.

MICHAEL:  Jag heter Michael.

KAISA:  Mitt namn är Kaisa.

MICHAEL:  Like the bird.

KAISA:  Ja.

KAJSA:  Yes.  Like the bird.  But I, not J.  I can hear you, you know.

MICHAEL (checking a sheet of paper):  Let me see.  Kevin, Grace, Matilda, Clancy, Kaisa, and Kajsa.

KAJSA:  Present.

MICHAEL:  I believe that’s the whole tour group.  Everyone is here.

KEVIN:  Okay, we’re off!  (Michael sits down on the bus steps and opens a newspaper and starts reading)  Okay, we’re not off.  I thought you said everyone is here.

MICHAEL:  ‘Tis a true story if ever I heard one.

KEVIN:  Then why aren’t we leaving?

MARGARET:  It’s not time yet.

KEVIN (looking at watch):  But it’s supposed to be leaving right now.  The tour was scheduled . . .

MICHAEL:  That is if you leave on time.  Our first stop is expecting us to be late.  We cannot disappoint them.  They certainly won’t be ready if we’re there on time.

MATILDA (jotting in her notepad):  So you’re saying that tardiness is built into the social structure.

MICHAEL:  No, what I said was that it is not time to leave yet even though it is time to leave now.  Ye can’t enjoy Ireland on a timetable.  Ye need to travel at the pace of the country you’re traveling or you’ll speed past her true nature.  I’d like to read my newspaper now if ye don’t mind.

(Traveling Couple enters; they speak simultaneously)

TRAVELING COUPLE (as they go past Matilda):  Excuse us.  Excuse us.  Excuse us.  (They cross to Michael)  We’re looking for a goat farm.

MICHAEL:  How old the goat?

TRAVELING COUPLE:  The rumor is the goat is at least four hundred years old.

MICHAEL:  May be.  I myself have heard three hundred, but there’s aged milk for ye either way.  Ye take this road to where it bends and follow the bend until it straightens.  There’ll be a man walking and looking for a hackberry tree.

MARGARET:  Might not be a hackberry tree.

MICHAEL:  He’ll be followed by another man looking for the first.  They are on their way to the farm.

TRAVELING COUPLE:  Thank you kindly.

(They exit; Michael unfolds the newspaper again)

MICHAEL:  Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to read about the football games.  I need to read this before we go and I don’t want to make us late.  Feel free to get on the bus and claim your seats if you’d like.

(He doesn’t move as all of them but Margaret try to climb the bus steps around him; Margaret sits next to him; there is a general hubbub of conversation as the tourists find seats; they all settle)

MARGARET:  Finally, a moment of peace.

MICHAEL:  Yes, a moment.

CLANCY:  Here’s one of my favorites.  I think you’ll recognize it.

(He starts singing; Michael tries to cover his ears as he’s reading; some of the others, including Kajsa, join in)

Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling

From glen to glen, and down the mountainside.

The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying.

MARGARET:  Have you seen the hurling results?

CLANCY:      'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.

MICHAEL:  I feel like hurling now, sure enough.

CLANCY:      But come ye back when summer's in the meadow

Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow,

For I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow.

Oh Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so.

 

But if you come, and all the flowers are dying

MICHAEL:  He would know more than one verse, wouldn’t he?

MARGARET:  Sure he would.

CLANCY:      And if I'm dead, as dead I might well be.

KEVIN:  Happy anniversary, honey.

CLANCY:      Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying

And kneel and say an Ave there for me.

And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,

And o'er my grave shall warmer, sweeter be,

MICHAEL:  Not too soon.

CLANCY:      And if you bend and tell me that you love me,

Then I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

MARGARET:  Sleep in peace!  I could hope for such a thing.

MICHAEL (standing):  So then, it’s time to travel.  Lads and lasses, we’re about to depart Shannon for points south and east.

(Michael and Margaret board bus, Margaret going to the back & Michael driving)

KEVIN:  Honey, hand me a pint of that Guinness.

MARGARET (as she reaches the back, to Matilda):  Margaret.

MATILDA:  Matilda Hornschnagle, pleased to meet you.

(Clancy starts to sing Danny Boy again as the sound of a bus engine is heard and the lights fade to darkness)

 

SCENE TWO:  LIMERICK AND LYRICS

(Lights up as Clancy and Kajsa are wrapping up yet another rendition of Danny Boy)

CLANCY & KAJSA:            And if you bend and tell me that you love me,

Then I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

KEVIN:  Reminds me of A Hundred Bottles of Guinness on the Wall.  Never frickin’ ends.

GRACE:  Driver, where are we?

MICHAEL:  We’re coming upon Limerick city shortly.

GRACE (holding up a tour book):  But where are the Cliffs of Moher?  (Mispronounced as “mohair”)  That’s supposed to be a “don’t miss” kind of thing.

MICHAEL:  May I have your attention, please, ladies and gentlemen?  For those who are interested the Cliffs of Moher would be out the window on the left side of the bus at the moment.

KEVIN:  I don’t see any cliffs.

MICHAEL:  Bit of a fog today, isn’t it?

MARGARET:  A stout fog it would be.

KEVIN:  (Starts to sing)  I take one down and pass it around, 94 bottles of Guinness on the wall.

MATILDA:  Please don’t start that again.

GRACE (to Kevin):  I agree.  (To Michael)  Wait a minute, we’re nowhere near the cliffs.

MICHAEL:  I didn’t say right outside the window.

GRACE:  We’re heading away from them.  We must be a hundred miles away.

MICHAEL:  Well, you wouldn’t want to get too close now, would ye?  They’re cliffs, after all.

KEVIN:  We’re American.  We paid our money.  We want to see the sights.

MARGARET:  Americans are wont to be on the edge now, aren’t they?

MATILDA:  Excuse me, I assumed a trip of this sort would hit upon the highlights, and we are going away from several.  I wanted to visit the Aran Islands.  I am here to study the Irish speakers.

MARGARET (badly mispronouncing the name):  Miss Hornschnagle, all the Irish speak.

KEVIN (pronouncing it as Margaret did):  Your name is Hornschnagle?

MATILDA:  Yes, Hornschnagle . . .

KEVIN:  Hornschnagle.

MATILDA:  Matilda Hornschnagle.

KEVIN:  Hah!  Hornschnagle.

MATILDA (to Michael):  I study cultures and I would very much like to visit the Aran Islands.

KEVIN:  You study American culture?

MATILDA:  If such a thing existed I might.  (To Margaret)  Oh, slam.  (To Michael)  Today I am interested in the Irish speakers of Inis Mor.

MICHAEL:  Inis Mor, is it?  We would have to go off schedule to get there now.  And you’re not the only passenger on the bus.  I’m sure we missed the boat already.

MARGARET:  I’m sure we have then.  (Beat)  Missed the boat.

MATILDA:  What schedule?

CLANCY (starts to sing):      The water is wide; I can’t get o’er;

(Kajsa puts her face against Clancy’s face)

                                                And neither have I wings to fly.

KEVIN (screaming):  For fuck’s sake, will you stop the feckin’ singing?!?  (Clancy stops; Michael looks relieved; Grace looks at Kevin somewhat horrified)  Baby, did you hear that?

GRACE:  Yes, how could I not . . .

KEVIN:  I swore.  In Irish.  Did you hear that?  I said “for fuck’s sake” and it sounded natural, like I’m from here or something. (To Matilda)  My ancestors were from here.

GRACE:  That’s nice, honey.  Maybe you should put the beer away now.

KEVIN:  And I said feck, whatever the feck that means.  Why can’t you just say “fuck”?  Heck, what the fuck is feck?

MARGARET:  Saint Patrick and all the saints, forgive us.

MICHAEL:  Matilda, there’s your Irish language.  Did ye hear that?  Did ye hear the young American speak in Irish?

CLANCY & MATILDA:  That’s not authentic.

MICHAEL (to Kevin and Grace):  He says it’s not authentic.  The American in Irish makeup.  The man named Clancy Brothers.  (To Matilda)  I suppose if you know what’s authentic already you may not have a need to study it.

KAJSA (in Matilda’s face):  Did you see that?  We were dancing cheek to beak.

KAISA (to Clancy):  Fågeln är en fågel.

CLANCY:  What did she say?

KAJSA:  She pretty much said I’m a girl.  Pretty girl.

MICHAEL:  The bird is a bird.

KAJSA:  Pretty bird.

CLANCY:  And so?

KAJSA (to Kaisa):  And so?

KAISA (to Kajsa):  Han lik musikalisk.

CLANCY:  What?

MICHAEL:  You like show tunes.

KAJSA (to Kaisa):  And so?

KAISA:  Han er en bög.

KAJSA:  No.

CLANCY:  What did she say?

KAJSA:  Nothing.  I can’t repeat it.

CLANCY:  Tell me.  (To Michael)  I’ll bet you know.

KAJSA:  It was a joke.

CLANCY:  And?

KAJSA:  OK.  Here goes.

There once was a young Swede named Peter,

Who had a sweet wife but couldn’t eat her.

So she took him to bed,

And gave him some . . . bread,

Then said no Swede could be sweeter than Peter.

MATILDA:  I don’t want to hear any more.

KEVIN:  There once was a man from Nantucket.

GRACE:  Stop it, stop it, stop it!

KEVIN:  You take the fun out of everything.

GRACE:  I’m not the one embarrassing us.

MICHAEL:  Ladies and gentlemen, we have now entered Limerick city.

CLANCY:  I have one.

MATILDA:  One?

CLANCY:      There once was a young man from Limerick,

Who claimed that he had a huge dick.

But when he pulled his cock out,

And started to walk all about

It was smaller than the smallest of toothpicks.

MICHAEL:  I should warn you fair if you pull one of those out in Limerick city you’re likely to be in trouble.

CLANCY:  I would never pull my privates out in public.

MICHAEL:  I meant a limerick is all.  (He slams the brakes and they all lurch forward)  So here we are at the castle.  You’ll be treated to a meal and then we’ll stay the night.

(He gets out of the bus with tourists following behind)

GRACE (to no one in particular):  It’s bigger than Cinderella’s Castle.

(A kilted man comes up to the group playing a bodhran; he tries to get them to follow him with body signals as he’s playing but they don’t seem to get it; he stops)

GRACE:  I think he’s a Druid.

KEVIN:  I think he has palsy.

MATILDA:  Finally, some authenticity.

KEVIN:  Are you looking for money?

BODHRAN PLAYER:  Follow me, I’m the pied drummer.

CLANCY:  I thought that was pied piper, and this isn’t Hamlet.

BODHRAN PLAYER:  Are ye hungry?

(All mumble “yeah”, “it was a long trip”, “I am”, etc.)

BODHRAN PLAYER:  Are ye hungry?

(All respond in the affirmative)

BODHRAN PLAYER:  One more time.  Are ye hungry?

ALL:  Yes!

BODHRAN PLAYER:  Then follow me.

CLANCY:  If he goes near a river I stop.

(As they start to follow Michael & Margaret peel off and leave the group; the Bodhran Player leads the group around the stage until they come upon Earl and Lady Grady)

EARL GRADY:  Good evening, I am Earl Grady, owner of this castle, and I welcome you to my humble abode.  This is Lady Grady, my wife and your hostess.  We’ll take you to your seats, then bring you some tea.

KEVIN:  Forget the tea.  Do you have any Jameson’s?

LADY GRADY:  We have mead.

KEVIN:  And potatoes, I hope.  I’m from Wisconsin, real meat and potatoes kind of place.

EARL GRADY:  Follow the drummer and you’ll get your fill.  (To Lady Grady)  To think some of our ancestors went there.

(Bodhran player exits, with the tour group following closely behind; Michael & Margaret enter; off stage is the distant sound of singing, music, conversation, and laughter)

MICHAEL:  You might think after twenty-five years of these trips with you I’d grow tired.

MARGARET:  I know.  Ye tire me sometimes.

MICHAEL:  I know I do, and yet I think I love ye now as much as I did when we were young, when the future was before us instead of behind.  You were a beautiful lass.

MARGARET:  And as much as I hate to admit it you were quite the handsome young fellow me lad yourself.

MICHAEL:  Oh, but I think I am still handsome and you are just as sweet.

MARGARET:  How much have you had to drink then?

MICHAEL:  Tonight I drink you in and nothing more.

MARGARET:  There’s a full moon then.  If it’s not a draught then you’re daft.

MICHAEL:  Perhaps a bit.

MARGARET:  These castle walls have turned you into a gallant knight in shining armor.

(He kisses her gently on the cheek)

MICHAEL:  I do love you still, and always will.

MARGARET:  So what are we going to do about the young ones then?  A year married and it’s already on the rocks.

MICHAEL:  I can maybe help one, but not the both.  I think the marriage will not last.

MARGARET:  They’re in love, as we are.

MICHAEL:  But he doesn’t know himself, nor does he know her.  And she doesn’t love what she has; she loves what she wants.

MARGARET:  I’ve never understood women who fall for drunken men, or adventurous men, or any other type of men, and then spend the rest of their lives trying to change what they fell in love with in the first place.

MICHAEL:  No, it hardly makes sense.

MARGARET:  You, for example, you I’ve accepted with all your faults—and there are many, don’t kid yourself—but they are you.

MICHAEL:  And, of course, you have none.

MARGARET:  Of course.

MICHAEL:  Shall we get some rest before the journey continues?

MARGARET:  Oh, I don’t know about the rest, but I think we should be away to bed now.

(They exit as Kevin and Grace enter opposite)

GRACE:  I have never been so embarrassed in all of my life.

KEVIN:  What?

GRACE:  What?!?  If you don’t know you’re . . . you’re . . .  What!?!  You have to ask what?!  You know what.

KEVIN:  No, I don’t.

GRACE:  You grabbed Kaisa’s puppet and touched yourself with it.

(He opens his arms and spreads his legs)

KEVIN:  Show me on my body where the puppet touched me.

GRACE:  You know very well where it touched you.

KEVIN:  Someone has to.  (She glares at him)  It wasn’t like I had my pants off.

GRACE:  I’m surprised.

KEVIN:  And the puppet still had her feathers on.  Besides it wasn’t touching me in that way.  I was pretending my lap was a birdbath.  I was trying to be funny.  It was a little show.

GRACE:  Very.  I want a divorce.

KEVIN:  What?

GRACE:  I don’t love you any more.

KEVIN:  You can’t just decide out of the blue that you no longer love me.

GRACE:  This has been coming for a long time.  You need to make some changes in your life.

KEVIN:  Okay, so you’re a little mad, but divorce?  We can’t break up.  This is our first full day and night in Ireland.

GRACE:  I’ve had it.  We’re done.  (Long pause)  I suppose you’ll want to go home now.

KEVIN:  Uh, actually, no, I’ve always wanted to come to Ireland.  If you want to leave I guess I’ll see you in court when I get back.

GRACE:  You’re an ass.

KEVIN:  What?  I’m sorry, my life doesn’t revolve around you.  I can live on my own.  I don’t want to, but I can.  You broke up with me eight times in the year we were engaged.  You can’t keep doing that.

GRACE:  Now we’re married, so I’m not breaking up with you.  I’m divorcing you.  I’m going to bed.  You can sleep in the bus for all I care.

(She storms off; Earl Grady enters)

EARL GRADY:  There you are.  You know, you’re quite the comedian.  You wouldn’t be looking for a job performing at a medieval banquet would you?

KEVIN:  I’m not funny.  I’ve just been drinking.

EARL GRADY:  So have I.  Maybe that’s why I thought you were funny.

KEVIN:  My wife is so mad.

EARL GRADY:  Of course she is.  You got a hand job from a puppet, in front of twenty busses worth of tourists.  And women get jealous whether you do it with another woman, man, puppet, or just think about it.

KEVIN:  What the hell do I do?

EARL GRADY:  First, sober up.  (Calling to Lady Grady)  Lady Grady, do you have a moment?

(She enters)

LADY GRADY:  Yes, my lord, I do for you.

KEVIN (to Earl Grady):  How do you do that?  I wish . . .

EARL GRADY:  We’re actors, son.  We’re not really married and this isn’t really medieval Ireland.

LADY GRADY:  And a good deal of the food was prepackaged.

KEVIN:  Wow, I thought sure you were married.

EARL GRADY:  Besides, any woman willing to have a man lord over her will never have a man worthy of such a title.

KEVIN:  You’re so convincing.

LADY GRADY:  We’re good actors.

KEVIN:  I thought you were together.

LADY GRADY:  Well, we’re not married.

EARL GRADY:  To each other.

LADY GRADY:  But we like to do it, if you know what I mean, so maybe that helps.

KEVIN:  It looks like you enjoy it.

EARL GRADY:  She’s not talking about acting now, but action.

LADY GRADY:  I’m talking about “it”, if you know what I mean.  If you know what it is.  We like to . . . you know.

KEVIN:  No, I’m . . .

EARL GRADY:  Fuck, boy-o, we like to fuck.

KEVIN (realizing):  Oh.  (Pause)  I do, too.

LADY GRADY:  Each other.

KEVIN:  Oh.

EARL GRADY:  Not hand puppets.

LADY GRADY:  Enough of that, my lord.  You called me in here to talk about these things?

EARL GRADY:  No, this boy has a problem.

LADY GRADY:  I gathered that from his performance in there.

(Suddenly the bodhran is heard; the Bodhran Player enters playing, with the Jester behind him, and all the tourists following them in a snake dance)

EARL GRADY:  Is it 9:00 already?

(The line snakes past the trio, then exits)

KEVIN:  What the fu . . .

LADY GRADY:  So, what would your problem be?

EARL GRADY:  He made his woman mad.

LADY GRADY:  He’s a man.

EARL GRADY:  He needs to know what to do to save his marriage.

LADY GRADY (to Kevin):  Don’t make your woman angry.  My job here is done.

(She exits)

EARL GRADY:  You heard the lady.  But I think I might take her flowers, too.  Roses.  Good luck with it.

LADY GRADY (entering again):  And flowers wouldn’t hurt either.  Roses if you can.

(She exits)

EARL GRADY:  She’s a pretty young lass.  Ye don’t want to lose her.

(Earl Grady exits)

KEVIN:  No, I don’t.

(Lights to black)

 

SCENE THREE:  KERRY ON

(Lights up on the bus; Kevin is sitting next to Margaret; Matilda is next to Grace)

CLANCY (singing to the tune of Ring of Fire):

            I drove onto a turning Ring of Kerry;

            I drove fast, fast, fast,

            And the road went higher.

 

            And it turns, turns, turns,

            The Ring of Kerry,

            The Ring of Kerry.

KEVIN (looking out the window; yelling):  There!  Stop!

(Michael hits the brakes; they all lurch forward)

GRACE:  Why are we stopping?  What’s going on?

(Kevin gets up and gets off the bus)

MICHAEL:  Sometimes you have to stop for the flowers.

MATILDA:  Driver, where are we?

MICHAEL:  We’re still on the famous Ring of Kerry.

KAJSA:  The wing of Kerry.

MATILDA:  Are there authentic Irishmen here?

MARGARET:  Really, there are few authentic people anywhere.

MATILDA:  I disagree.  I studied authentic tribal elders in Papua New Guinea, a hidden people in the Brazilian rain forests . . .

CLANCY:  How did you study them if they were hidden?

MATILDA:  Meaning no one else knew about them.  I discovered them.

CLANCY:  They didn’t know they were there?

MATILDA:  I . . . no one else in the world knew about them.

MICHAEL:  It may be good work ye do.  Did ye know that 90 of Brazil’s 270 indigenous tribes have vanished from the earth in just over one hundred years?*

CLANCY:  How did that happen?

KAJSA:  Man.

MATILDA (to Michael):  I have heard that.

GRACE:  You do know everything, don’t you?

MICHAEL:  I am interested in my world.

MARGARET (to Matilda, badly mispronouncing the surname again):  You, Miss Hornschnagle, what exactly is it ye do?

MATILDA (having a difficult time saying it):  I’m a psychoanthroculturologist.

MICHAEL:  Psychoanthroculturologist.

MATILDA:  Yes, that.  I am working on getting the United Nations to pass an Endangered Humans Act, to protect people whose cultures are disappearing.

KAJSA:  We won’t be able to hunt pygmies anymore.

CLANCY:  I like pork.

MATILDA (to Kajsa):  That’s not really funny.  (Pause)  Wait a minute, I’m talking to a bird.  To a puppet of a bird.

KAJSA:  I’m an endangered species.  Study me.  Talk to me.

MARGARET:  What, a blue booby?

MATILDA:  But the pygmies are vanishing, along with many, many others.  They may become extinct if something is not done.  2,500 languages are expected to disappear within a hundred years.*  That’s why I wanted to go to the Aran Islands.

MARGARET:  It wasn’t on the schedule.

MATILDA:  I know.  I was hoping.

MICHAEL:  And I’m sorry—I don’t mean to be rude—but ye don’t take a tour bus to study a land and its people.  A tour bus is simply to say you’ve been somewhere.  It’s about you and not the place.  Ye take a few pictures, ye show your friends, “Oh, look where I have been”, and then you put them away and are no richer for the experience.

MATILDA:  I will not do that.  I intend to get off your bus near the fishing villages in the southeast and I’ll make a home there for a while.  I’ll find net fishermen who are trying to preserve the old ways.  I will find authentic people.

(Kevin enters and gets back on the bus with a handful of wildflowers)

KEVIN (to Michael as he boards the bus):  Thank you.

(Kevin stops next to Matilda and holds the flowers out to Grace, but in front of Matilda; silence for a moment, then Matilda sneezes)

MARGARET:  Bless you.

GRACE (hesitantly):  For me?

(Matilda sneezes)

MARGARET:  Bless you.

KEVIN (to Grace):  For you.

(She hesitates again; Matilda sneezes)

MARGARET:  Bless you.

(Grace finally takes the flowers)

KEVIN:  Am I forgiven?

MARGARET:  That’s between you and your confessor.

GRACE:  For now, yes.

KEVIN:  May I have my morning kiss?

GRACE:  Yes.

(He leans over Matilda to try to kiss Grace, but can’t quite reach; Matilda sneezes)

MARGARET:  Bless you.

MATILDA:  Allergies.  I’m guess I’m sort of in the way.  Would you like me to move?

KEVIN:  Oh, no, you’re fine.  I can go take my seat.

GRACE:  You don’t want to sit next to me?  You don’t want to kiss me?

KEVIN:  I didn’t say that.  I was trying to be polite.

GRACE:  You’d think after I just forgave you . . .

MATILDA:  I’ll move.

(She gets up and Kevin sits quietly next to Grace; Matilda heads to the back as Michael restarts the bus and steps on the gas; she flies to the back, unable to stand, and ends up on Margaret’s lap)

MARGARET:  Well, then, it’s good to see you again.  Are ye having a nice trip?

KAJSA:  Waltzing Matilda she ain’t.

(Matilda stands again; a sheep enters and stops in front of the bus; Michael slams the brakes and Matilda flies back up the aisle)

GRACE:  Why are we stopping now?  We just got going again.

MICHAEL:  There’s sheep in the road.

KAJSA (looking out the window):  There’s sheep in the valley.

(Michael shuts off the bus as two more sheep enter and stop in front of the bus)

MATILDA:  Excuse me, but if we’re stopped, I’m getting off the bus for a moment.  I need terra firma right now.

MICHAEL:  All right, then.  Ladies and gentlemen, we will take an unscheduled stop here if anyone wants to stretch their legs.

(Passengers start to exit the bus)

KAJSA:  I want to spread my wings and fly, fly, fly!

MARGARET (under her breath):  Die, die, die.

CLANCY:  I want to spread out, too.

KAISA:  Din kindbenen, kanske.

CLANCY:  What did she say?

KAJSA:  If you love something set it free.  If it comes back to you it’s a boomerang.

(Clancy, Kaisa, and Kajsa leave the bus)

KEVIN (getting up):  Are you coming?

GRACE:  There’s nothing to see.

KEVIN:  It’s the Irish countryside.

GRACE:  We have countryside in Wisconsin.  We have sheep there, too.

KEVIN:  I’m going to stretch.  I’ll be back.

(Kevin leaves the bus)

CLANCY (to Kevin):  Top o’ the mornin’ to ye.

KEVIN:  It’s afternoon, now.

CLANCY:  Top o’ the afternoon to ye, then.

KEVIN:  You, too, I guess.

(Michael gets up and goes to the back of the bus and sits next to Margaret and they close their eyes for a bit; Kevin saunters over by Matilda)

MATILDA:  It’s a beautiful country.

KEVIN:  It is.

(Kevin pulls an Irish pipe from his pocket and looks at it)

MATILDA:  What’s that?

KEVIN:  It’s a traditional Irish clay pipe.  Grace bought it for me at Shannon Airport as a souvenir.

MATILDA:  Oh, my God.  You are a lifesaver.

KEVIN:  How do you mean?

MATILDA:  I lost my pipe somewhere in Bangkok, but I have this incredible Super Gold Thai I’ve been wanting to smoke.

SHEEP (like a bleat):  Pot.

MATILDA:  If you wouldn’t mind using the pipe for it I’d be happy to share.

KEVIN:  You took that on an airplane, on an international flight.

MATILDA:  Seriously, who’s going to bring out the pot-sniffing dogs for me?

KEVIN:  Good point.

MATILDA:  So, would you mind?

KEVIN:  Not at all.  I think I’d like that.  It’s not a pot pipe, though.

MATILDA:  It’ll do.  Will your wife get angry?

KEVIN:  Yes.  (Pause)  No matter what I do.

(He hands her the pipe and she puts the pot in and lights it)

MATILDA:  Let’s walk.  We don’t want to be seen.

SHEEP (as Kevin & Matilda start to walk away; like a bleat):  Bye.

(They exit; Clancy starts to sing)

CLANCY:
               I wish I was in Carrickfergus, only for nights in Ballygran.
               I would swim over the deepest ocean, the deepest ocean for my love to find.
               But the sea is wide and I can’t cross over and neither have I the wings to fly;
               If I could find me a handsome boatman to ferry me over to my love and die
(As Clancy goes into the second verse Matilda and Kevin enter again and stop and watch; a couple lines into the second verse the sheep start bleating, which serves as background vocals for the song)
               My childhood days bring sad reflection of happy times spent so long ago;
               My boyhood friends and my own relations have all passed on now, like the melting snow.
               So I’ll spend my days in endless roving; soft is the grass, my bed is free;
               Ah, to be back now in Carrickfergus on that long road down to the sea.
 
               But in Kilkenny, it is reported they have marble stones there as black as ink;
               With gold and silver I could support her, but I’ll sing no more until I get a drink.
               I’m drunk today, and I’m seldom sober, a handsome rover from town to town.
               Ah, but I’m sick now; my days are numbered; come all ye young men and lay me down.

KEVIN:  That was fuckin’ awesome.  Great song, dude.

MATILDA:  I can’t believe you’re encouraging him.

MICHAEL (from inside the bus):  All right, will ye stop the feckin’ singing now?  No more songs for now.

MARGARET:  There’s a lady trying to sleep.

KEVIN:  You touched me, man.

CLANCY:  I touch people a lot.

KAISA:  Om lopp.

CLANCY:  What did she say?

KAJSA:  Nothing.

CLANCY:  What was it?

KAJSA:  She said she wishes she was in Karlskrona.

(The sheep clear their throats until everyone turns, then bow their heads; Kevin and Matilda clap; the sheep turn and leave)

MICHAEL:  Well, the sheep are gone, the sun is down, and I’m wishing to be on the road toward Cork.  Shall we move along now?

(All of them take their seats)

GRACE:  Where were you?

KEVIN:  Walking.

GRACE:  On the edge of a cliff.  I can’t take this any more.  I think I want to break up.

KEVIN:  We just got back together.

(Grace turns away and looks out the window as Michael starts up the bus)

CLANCY:  Let’s do a sing-along.

MICHAEL:  Oh, please don’t . . .

(There is silence for a moment, except for the sound of the bus)

KEVIN:  I’ve never noticed the sound of wheels turning before.

(Lights to black)

 

SCENE FOUR:  NO BLARNEY

(Lights up on bus)

MICHAEL:  Ladies and gentlemen, the castle we are passing now is Blarney Castle.  You may have heard of it.

MATILDA (to Margaret):  That isn’t on the tour?

MARGARET:  Usually ‘tis.

GRACE:  We’re not stopping?  It’s famous.

MICHAEL:  I’m tired.

CLANCY:  So then we should stop, so you can rest.

GRACE (looking at her brochure):  It is on the tour.  You’re supposed to stop there.

MARGARET (to Matilda):  He does this every so often.  He’ll decide what is best for the tourists without regard to what they think.

CLANCY:  I want to stop.

KAJSA:  Let’s come to roost now.

MARGARET:  They get mad at first, but usually like the trip better in the end.

GRACE:  I want to stop.  Kevin, tell him we should stop.

KEVIN:  We did pay for Blarney . . .

MICHAEL:  I’m tired of the bullshit.

MARGARET:  Oh, here it goes.

MICHAEL:  I’m tired of these tours with their planned stops at all the places everyone has heard of and the only reason they want to go is because they’ve heard of it.  Blarney Castle isn’t Ireland, people, it’s a castle.  It’s a nice one.

MARGARET:  You like it yourself.

MICHAEL:  I like it myself, but for different reasons.

GRACE:  You have to stop or we’re going to demand our money back.

MICHAEL:  Where should I drop ye off then?

CLANCY:  It’s one of the highlights of Ireland.  You kiss the Blarney Stone and it gives you the gift of gab.

MICHAEL:  You can kiss my arse and tell a story about it.  That’ll be gab enough.

MARGARET:  It’s the Stone of Eloquence.

CLANCY:  Elegant or not it’s tradition.

MARGARET:  Eloquent.

CLANCY:  Elegant, elephant, I don’t care.  Visitors have to kiss the Blarney Stone.

KAJSA:  The driver’s right, you don’t want to do that.

CLANCY:  Of course I do.

KAJSA:  No, you don’t.  I’ve heard a poem about it.

MARGARET:  Oh, I wait with bated breath.

KAJSA:          You may lie at the Blarney Stone

                        And pucker your lips to kiss.

                        But the gift of gab you will not own—

                        Just some Irish laddie’s piss.

CLANCY:  What does that mean?

KAJSA:  I think it means you don’t want to be kissing an old stone that young men think it’s funny to piss on before the tourists come.

CLANCY:  You’re kidding me.

GRACE:  Ugh!  Keep going!

MICHAEL:  I will.  I was planning on it.

GRACE:  Well you can go on now, but we’re paying you.  If we say to stop you need to stop.

MICHAEL:  It’s my bus.  I’ll go where I want.

MARGARET:  Michael, they are the customers.

MICHAEL:  Woman, this is my bus.

MARGARET:  Don’t you woman me, you bullocks.

MATILDA:  Didn’t we just have a break?  Do we need another?

CLANCY:  Did you see that sign?  There’s a bar with music ahead.

MICHAEL:  Ye don’t want that music.

GRACE:  We are paying you.  If you won’t stop where you’re supposed to then you should at least stop where we ask.

MICHAEL:  I’m telling ye . . .

MARGARET:  Muirnín a chroí, give them what they want.

CLANCY:  I want Irish music.

MATILDA:  Is it authentic?

MARGARET:  Depends on whose song it is now, doesn’t it, and how they sing it.

CLANCY:  Traditional Irish music—there’s nothing better.

KAISA:  Har du horde kulning?

CLANCY:  What did she . . .

KAJSA:  She said, “Have you heard of cattle calling?”

KEVIN:  Moo.

MICHAEL:  That’s low.  (Pause)  Okay, we’ll stop.

CLANCY:  Real Irish music, I can’t wait.

(Michael stops the bus and the passengers start to get out)

MICHAEL:  I’m going to wait for herself.  I want a word with her.

MARGARET:  I’ll have a word with you.

(The two of them improv an argument as everyone exits; an off stage voice is heard)

ANNOUNCER:  Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the stage Ireland’s best new band, Gut the Pope.

(Loud cheering and yelling is heard; the tourists enter as the punk singer takes the stage)

MAN IN BAR (to Kevin, as they enter):  E?

(Kevin takes a tablet from him and swallows it)

RAZOR:  Fuck you.  Fuck all of you.

(The crowd cheers wildly)

GRACE:  Why are they cheering?

RAZOR:  This is our one big underground hit.  Then fuck you.  We play what we want.

(The crowd cheers wildly)

CLANCY:  Oh, they have a hit.

RAZOR:  Fuck all of you.  You’re all pigs.  Go!  One-two-three.

            Susie’s on the party bus;

            She’s high on both of us.

            We fuck and we fuck

            And we fuck and we fuck

            But Susie never comes.

 

            Susie never comes;

            Susie never comes.

            We fuck and we fuck

            And we fuck and we fuck

            But Susie never comes.

 

            Susie’s a baby doll;

            Susie’s a plastic doll.

            We fuck and we fuck

            And we fuck and we fuck

            But Susie never comes.

 

            Susie is my sweetheart;

            She always gets me hard.

            We fuck and we fuck

            And we fuck and we fuck

            But Susie never comes.

 

            Susie never comes;

            Susie never comes.

            We fuck and we fuck

            And we fuck and we fuck

            But Susie never comes.

            We fuck and we fuck

            And Susie never comes.

            We fuck and we fuck

            And she don’t ever come.

            We fuck and we fuck

            And Susie never comes.

            Never!  Never!

            Susie never comes!

(Song ends; fans cheer; tourists are stunned; Razor glares until everyone falls into silence for a moment)

KAJSA:  Yay.

GRACE:  That was disgusting.

(Grace starts to work her way across the bar toward Kevin)

MAN IN BAR:  Play it again!

RAZOR:  Fuck you.  Open your minds.

WOMAN IN BAR:  Sing it again!

RAZOR:  Sing it yourself.

MAN IN BAR:  Play it again!

WOMAN IN BAR:  Sing it again!

MAN IN BAR:  Play it!

WOMAN IN BAR:  Sing it!

MAN IN BAR:  Play!

WOMAN IN BAR:  Sing!

RAZOR:  Fuck you!  Yeah, fuck you!  I won’t spend my life repeating myself.  (Quietly)  So fuck you.  Yeah, fuck you.

(Razor steps off the stage)

MATILDA:  Excuse me, may I talk to you?   (Razor doesn’t answer)  Do you have a moment?  Your culture interests me.

(Matilda follows Razor off stage)

RAZOR (as he exits):  Fuckin’ groupies, man.

GRACE:  Kevin, it’s time to go.

CLANCY:  I second that.

KAJSA:  I third.  The bird thirds.

CLANCY:  We heard.

KAJSA:  Let’s go.  Time to go.  Time flies, and so do I, when you’re not having fun.

(Kaisa, Kajsa, and Clancy exit; the other bar patrons continue to mill about)

GRACE:  Let’s go.

KEVIN:  Where?

GRACE:  To the bus.

KEVIN:  The driver’s not leaving without us.

GRACE:  I’ll wait for him on the bus.  I don’t want to be here.

KEVIN:  I’ll wait for him here.  I don’t want to be on the bus.

GRACE:  I want to go.

KEVIN:  I’m having fun.  Is it a sin for me to have fun?  Why don’t you relax and have some fun, too, for a change?

GRACE:  For a change?  What does that mean?

KEVIN:  Nothing.

GRACE:  I’m fun.  I know how to have fun.

KEVIN:  You’re fun.  Just not always, that’s all.  Sometimes you’re tighter than a leotard on a three-hundred pound woman.

GRACE:  What!?  I am not overweight.

KEVIN:  No, you’re not . . . nothing.  It’s just that . . . I mean . . . I didn’t mean anything by it.  Just sometimes you don’t enjoy life as much as you could.

GRACE:  I can enjoy life.  I’ll stay, but I don’t have to be happy about it.

KEVIN:  Good.  Baby, I love you.  You know that.

GRACE:  Well, I love you, too.

(Pause; they hug)

KEVIN:  Thanks for staying.

GRACE:  You’re welcome, I guess.

KEVIN:  You know what?  That song got me hot.

GRACE:  What?

KEVIN:  You’re looking hot.

GRACE:  You’re sick.  What have you been drinking?

KEVIN:  Nothing.  Not a drop.  I have to be drinking to find you attractive?  I don’t think so.  Let’s go over to that booth there.  I want to do it here.  Plant my seeds in Ireland, if you know what I mean.

GRACE:  Kevin!  In a bar?

KEVIN:  In a car?  On a jet?  You bet.  Come on.  I’m getting hot.

(Matilda enters and steps between Kevin and Grace)

MATILDA:  Did you know that not all punks are alike?  Where is everyone?

KEVIN:  No, I, uh . . .

MATILDA:  Some of them are even straight-edge.  They don’t have sex, do drugs.  Isn’t that amazing?  You wouldn’t believe how much I learned in that interview.

GRACE:  Interview?

KEVIN:  That’s nice.  I’m glad for you.

MATILDA:  Of course, Razor there—you probably noticed from his song—he’s no virgin.  No straight-edge there, no siree.  Oh, let me tell you, he’s no virgin.  Uh-uh-uh, no virgin there.

GRACE:  I don’t know that we need to hear this.

MATILDA:  You know he has more adornments than the tribal men of Sarawak on Borneo.  And believe me, those men are adorned.

GRACE:  We really don’t need . . .

MATILDA:  Not to mention the tattoos.

GRACE:  I don’t like tattoos.

MATILDA:  Most punks are lefties.  Did you know that?  It amazes me.  They look scary, but they’re not.  They want to protect the environment, treat women right.  I thought they were all Nazis.

KEVIN:  That’s nice.  We, uh, we’re a little busy right now.

MATILDA:  Oh, excuse me, I was just a little excited.  Well, I was very excited.  A little less so now, maybe.

GRACE:  She wasn’t saying that she and . . . uh . . . that guy . . . that they . . .

KEVIN:  I think maybe.  Let’s get back to what we were talking about.

GRACE:  Looks sure can be deceiving.

KEVIN:  You’re beautiful, baby.  Where were we?

MICHAEL (entering):  Ah, there you be.  The bus is leaving now.  The Irish highway is calling.

KEVIN:  Now?  Can you give us ten minutes?

GRACE:  Ten minutes?

MICHAEL:  There’s nothing you can do in ten minutes here that you couldn’t do in ten minutes on the bus.

(Pause)

KEVIN:  Not a bad idea.

GRACE:  No.  Absolutely not.

KEVIN:  Honey, come on.

MATILDA (to Michael, as all of them exit):  Do you know how many different types of punk there are?  It’s amazing.  (Reading from her notepad)  There’s scum punk, hardcore, emo, horror punk, queercore, ska . . . the list goes on and on.

MICHAEL:  Oh, don’t forget Oi!  It’s my favorite.  Nothing better than working class punk on a Saturday night.

(They exit)

ANNOUNCER:  Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage Ireland’s newest sensation, the Rat Bastards.

(Audience cheers as lights go to black)

 

SCENE FIVE:  HIGHWAY TO HELL

(Lights up on the bus; Clancy is singing; Kevin is drinking a beer)

KEVIN:  I don’t know why we can’t do it here.

CLANCY:      And some day for my sake

                        She may let me take

                        The bloom from my wild Irish rose.

KAJSA (singing):  Susie never comes, Susie never comes.

KEVIN:  I really don’t know why not.

KAJSA:  I liked that song.  I thought it was catchy.

CLANCY:  I guess it was a hit.  (Starts singing again):  My wild Irish Rose . . .

MICHAEL:  If ye don’t stop the feckin’ singing I’ll stop the bus, and we won’t start moving again until it has stopped for good.

CLANCY:  But it’s Irish music.

MARGARET:  Laddie, where do you live?

CLANCY:  I’m from O’Neill.

MARGARET:  That’s a nice Irish name for a town.  What county is it then?  Tipperary?  Donegal?

CLANCY:  It’s not . . . No, I’m not . . .

MARGARET:  Yes?

CLANCY:  I’m from Nebraska.  O’Neill, Nebraska.

MARGARET:  ‘Tis what I thought.

MICHAEL:  And you’re no Irish laddie.

KEVIN:  You’re from Nebraska, dude?  Cornhusker?

CLANCY:  So?  Where are you from?

KEVIN:  Wisconsin.

CLANCY:  Oh.  I thought I heard an accent.  You know we’re electing a new President in my country.

MICHAEL:  Oh, dear God.  How could ye not know your own country?  (Silence; to Grace and Kevin)  Well, at least the singing has stopped.

CLANCY (starting again):  When Irish eyes are smiling . . .

(Michael slams on the brakes as a priest and nun enter in front of the bus)

MARGARET:  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!

CLANCY:  Okay, I’ll stop.

MICHAEL:  Might just be Mary and Joseph.

(Father Mulrennan and Sister Eilis step over to the bus door)

FATHER MULRENNAN:  Good afternoon.  I’m Father Mulrennan and this is Sister Eilis.

MICHAEL:  What can I do for you, Father?  I’ve no need of communion today.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  Would you commune with strangers?  We’re traveling.

MICHAEL:  I see that.  So are we.

MARGARET:  Ye might have noticed ye stepped in front of a bus.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  We did.  That’s what we did.

SISTER EILIS:  We thought ye might stop for travelers in the road.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  And ye did.

MICHAEL:  And we did.  On the road, maybe not.  In the road, what choice have we got?  Where might ye be going, Father?

SISTER EILIS:  We’re trying to get to Heaven.  Are ye not also?

MICHAEL:  Sister, if Heaven is County Waterford, and I think that it may be, then I am indeed on my way to Heaven.

SISTER EILIS:  May you travel with virtue and grace.

MICHAEL:  I think I do.

MARGARET:  He thinks he does.

GRACE:  Hi, I’m Grace.

MARGARET:  And I’m virtue.  And goodness and hope, not to mention charity.  Chastity is in the overhead bin.

KEVIN:  Oh, I don’t think so.

CLANCY:  I heard she’s a lesbian.

KAJSA:  I’m going to hell.  Just look at me.  I need to preen.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  We could use a lift for a few kilometers, if ye don’t mind.  There’s a monastery ahead.

MICHAEL:  I know it well.  If that’s where ye be going I can take ye there.

SISTER EILIS:  God bless ye.

MARGARET:  And keep him.

GRACE (to Kevin):  You should offer your seat.

KEVIN:  You should offer yourself.

KAJSA:  I could get up, but you’ll have to watch out for the hand.

SISTER EILIS:  Excuse me?

KAJSA:  A hand in the bird is worth two in the bush.  (Beat)  Or something like that.

MARGARET:  Never mind the bird.

GRACE (elbowing Kevin and signaling for him to get up):  You should offer your seat.

KEVIN (standing, to Sister Eilis):  Would you like a seat?

SISTER EILIS:  But you have paid for that seat.

KEVIN:  Dearly.

MICHAEL:  He paid for the tour.  There was no seat guaranteed.

KEVIN:  Take my seat, please.

SISTER EILIS (taking his seat and noticing the beer):  Ye shouldn’t be drinking in the middle of the day.

(Michael starts to drive again)

KEVIN:  You shouldn’t be passing judgment upon others.

SISTER EILIS:  I’m a nun.

KEVIN:  All the more reason.

GRACE:  Kevin!  (To Sister Eilis)  Please forgive him.  He gets a little—you know—he gets a little . . .

KEVIN:  Very little.

GRACE:  And you have very little to give.

MATILDA:  Oh, slap!

GRACE:  Father, what does a woman have to do to get an annulment?

FATHER MULRENNAN:  You’re a Catholic girl, then?

GRACE:  No, I just need some help.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  Maybe I should stay out of it.

GRACE:  He’s a Catholic boy, or at least raised to be.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  That’s nice.

CLANCY:  Padre, do you know any Irish songs?

FATHER MULRENNAN:  Certainly.  Doesn’t everyone?

KAJSA:  Maybe the British?

CLANCY:  Our driver was just saying how much he likes real Irish music.

MICHAEL:  I said no such thing.  (Beat)  Though I do.  Real Irish music, I do.  Surely, Father, if you’d like to sing we’d love to hear it.  But no Gregorian chants, if ye don’t mind.

MARGARET:  You could use a little Jesus.

MICHAEL:  I could use a break.

MARGARET:  Oh, I’ll give you a break, right on the arm.  And a kick on the arse.  Oh, dear, forgive me, Father.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  It’s all right.  I’m not working at the moment.

MICHAEL:  Good then.  Secular music if it’s all the same to ye.  You’re not working, so the songs of prayer can wait ‘til Sunday.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  That’s fine.  All right, then.  Here’s a newer song of Ireland, which for you Americans means it’s less than a hundred years old.  It’s a song ye should take home with ye.  Listen carefully, and take it with ye when ye go.  Tommy Makem, may he rest in peace.

CLANCY:  Make who rest in peace?

KAJSA:  A bush is worth . . . oh, nothing.

CLANCY:  And who’s Tommy?

MICHAEL:  Makem.

CLANCY:  Make him what?

MARGARET:  Oh, make him shut up, will ye?

MATILDA:  Oh, snap.

FATHER MULRENNAN (sings):

            What did I have, said the fine old woman;

            What did I have, this proud old woman did say.

            I had four green fields, each one was a jewel;

            But strangers came and tried to take them from me.

            I had fine strong sons, who fought to save my jewels;

            They fought and they died, and that was my grief, said she.

 

            Long time ago, said the fine old woman;

            Long time ago, this proud old woman did say;

            There was war and death, plundering and pillage.

            My children starved, by mountain, valley, and sea;

            And their wailing cries, they shook the very heavens.

            My four green fields ran red with their blood, said she.

 

            What have I now, said the fine old woman;

(Michael joins the singing on the next line)

            What have I now, this proud old woman did say;

(Margaret joins the singing on the next line)

            I have four green fields, one of them’s in bondage

            In stranger’s hands, that tried to take it from me;

            But my sons had sons, as brave as were their fathers—

            My fourth green field will bloom once again, said she.

            And my fourth green field will bloom once again, said she.

CLANCY:  Oh, that poor old lady.  Who was she?

FATHER MULRENNAN:  It’s an allegory, ye poor old laddie.  Things aren’t always what they seem.

SISTER EILIS:  Erin go bragh!

KAJSA:  Erin, go braless.

MARGARET:  Shush, you.

KAJSA:  Naughty bird.  Naughty bird.

KAISA:  Sverige för alltid.

MARGARET:  And you, hush.

KAJSA:  Naughty girl.  Naughty girl.

CLANCY:  Remember the Alamo!  Remember the Maine!  Remember Pearl Harbor!  Remember 9-1-1.

MARGARET:  And you, most of all, shhh.  Don’t try to speak.

KAJSA:  Naughty boy.  Naughty boy.

FATHER MULRENNAN (to Kevin):  So you are from America, too?

KEVIN:  You can tell?

FATHER MULRENNAN:  I won’t if you don’t want me to, but yes, I can.  Where are ye traveling?  What are ye looking to find?

KEVIN:  I came to find myself, Father.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  ‘Tis a good purpose for any journey.

KEVIN:  My ancestors were from Ardmore in County Waterford and I came to see the land where my blood began.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  Ardmore, is it?  They’re a seafaring people there, fishermen.  Did ye know that?

KEVIN:  No, sir, I didn’t.  I knew it was on the coast.

MATILDA:  Net fishermen?

MARGARET:  Darling, I think you’re too late for that, so you are.  Drift net fishing is no longer allowed.  There’s conservation of the fish in Waterford, but not of the people, not of the history, and not of the culture.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  And did you know this, then?  Ardmore was founded by a saint.  St. Declan of Ardmore Christianized the area before St. Patrick, some fifteen or sixteen hundred years ago.  It’s the oldest Christian city in all of Ireland.

KEVIN:  No, I didn’t.  I don’t know anything about it.  All I know is that on my great-great grandfather’s tombstone it is inscribed that he came from Ardmore in County Waterford.

SISTER EILIS:  Potato famine?

KEVIN:  1840’s.

SISTER EILIS:  Likely it was.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  Have your driver show you around when you get there.  Or ask the townsmen.  There’s a lot there you won’t see without the help of the locals.

MICHAEL:  Father, we’re almost to your monastery now.

SISTER EILIS:  Are ye ready, Father?

FATHER MULRENNAN:  May I give ye a word of advice, then?

KEVIN:  Okay, shoot.

(All the Irish on the bus bless themselves in fear)

FATHER MULRENNAN:  Ye won’t find yourself at the bottom of a bottle.

KEVIN:  I don’t need to listen to this.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  Ye won’t find yourself in your ancestral home, though ye may find it in you.

KEVIN:  What are you talking about?

FATHER MULRENNAN:  Ye already know your wife and friends can’t tell ye who ye are or how to be.  And you’re not going to hear it from a strange priest along your travels.

KEVIN:  Then why are you talking?

FATHER MULRENNAN:  And I even say this as a man of the cloth, you won’t find yourself in Jesus or God.

KEVIN:  What?  I thought that’s what you were getting at.  Trying to bring me back to the fold.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  No, I wasn’t.  Though I’m sure Jesus would welcome you.

(Michael stops the bus)

KEVIN:  Then I don’t know what you mean.

MICHAEL:  We’re here.

FATHER MULRENNAN:  I think ye do.  Look inside yourself, not outside.  Everything you need to know is waiting for ye there.  I wish ye well on your journey.  (He turns and walks to the front of the bus; to Michael)  Thank ye much for your generosity.  Sister, are ye ready?

SISTER EILIS:  Yes, Father.

FATHER MULRENNAN (quietly, to Michael):  Be his guide then, will ye?

MICHAEL:  Father, I will.

(Father Mulrennan and Sister Eilis step off the bus)

SISTER EILIS (as they exit; waving):  Thank you again.

KEVIN (taking his seat again):  So we’ve been stopped by goats, chickens, sheep, what we thought was traditional Irish music, and now a priest and a nun.  What next?

MICHAEL:  I think next we will continue our journey.

CLANCY:  A banshee.  Maybe we’ll see a banshee.

MARGARET:  Ye do not want to be inviting banshees.  They are portents of death.  (Michael lurches the bus forward; to Matilda)  Speaking of portents of death.  (To Michael)  Do you have to put so much foot on the pedal?

MICHAEL:  I’ve only one size foot to put, woman.

MARGARET:  Don’t you woman me, you bullocks!

MICHAEL:  I’ve a better place to plant my foot than the gas pedal.

MARGARET:  I heard that.

KEVIN:  Let’s go!

MICHAEL:  Okay, so we are going forward now, and it’s on to the valleys and heights of your home county.

(Lights to black)

 

SCENE SIX:  FROM GREAT HEIGHTS

(Lights up on the tourists disembarking from the bus)

MICHAEL:  We’ll be staying here overnight.

CLANCY:  This isn’t on the tour schedule.

KAJSA:  It wasn’t time to fly south yet.

MATILDA:  Haven’t you learned by now the schedule doesn’t mean anything?

KEVIN:  Oh, my God.  This is it.  This is where my ancestors lived.  (To Grace)  Isn’t this amazing?

GRACE:  It’s quaint.

MICHAEL:  Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Ardmore.

MARGARET:  And I give you five minutes before you’re bored.

MICHAEL:  We’ll give you a little time to look around the town centre.

KEVIN:  There’s a pub over there.  Let’s get a drink.

GRACE:  You don’t need a drink.

KEVIN:  Right.  But I’d like one.

CLANCY:  I want to go shopping.  I see stores.

KAJSA:  We’ll follow you.

(Clancy, Kaisa, and Kajsa exit)

KEVIN (as he’s exiting):  Come on.

(Grace reluctantly follows after him)

MATILDA:  It looks like a place I could stay.  I do understand it’s changing.  Old things are replaced by new.  Our whole world is changing.

(She wanders off)

MICHAEL:  I’m sorry about my behavior on the bus.  I was a little stressed.

MARGARET:  And me likewise, though I ‘m sure I’ve done nothing to forgive.

MICHAEL:  The priest would be out of work if he depended upon you for his confession schedule.

(Pause)

MARGARET:  She’s right.  The old is always replaced.

MICHAEL:  Not always.  I’m keeping you.

MARGARET:  I am not that old, and don’t your dare suggest otherwise.

MICHAEL:  Matilda will always have something to study.  People die, traditions die out.  The old are replaced by the young.  And yet there are traditions of the heart that stay the same.

(He kisses her on the cheek)

MARGARET:  Oh, Michael, the sea leaves you as daftly romantic as the old castles.

MICHAEL:  And the moon and certain songs.  Have you ever thought I might just be a romantic man?

MARGARET:  Yes.  And then, of course, dismissed the notion right out of mind.

MICHAEL:  I don’t need inducements to love ye, Margaret.  No sunsets, no walking on the beach.  Just a gentle time together.  You’ve treated me well, you’ve been a good companion.  What more could I ask?

MARGARET:  Nothing, I’m sure.  But ye know the idea of getting old does scare me.  You are a ghrá mo chroí, the love of my heart, and I can’t imagine life without you.

MICHAEL:  Nor I without you.

MARGARET:  Remember man that you are dust and into dust you shall return.

MICHAEL:  There is this: we do live on in the gifts we give the young.

MARGARET:  Then I think ye have a gift to give yet, do ye not?

MICHAEL:  I do.  But I’d like to spend some time with my love first.

MARGARET:  Ah, you are the romantic.  Shall we go for a walk?

MICHAEL:  Yes, yes.

MARGARET:  To Keever’s Pub.

MICHAEL:  But let’s walk slowly.

(They exit as Kevin and Grace enter opposite)

GRACE:  I have never been more embarrassed in my life.

KEVIN:  What?

GRACE:  You know what.  That’s it.  I’ve had it.  We are getting a divorce.  I’ll file the paperwork the moment we get home.

KEVIN:  Oh, come on.

GRACE:  No, I’m serious.

KEVIN:  Baby . . .

GRACE:  And for the rest of the trip you can sit on the back of the bus when we’re in it and get your own hotel room when we’re not.  I want nothing further to do with you.

KEVIN:  It’s our anniversary.

GRACE:  How we made it a year I’m not sure!

(She storms off the stage; he takes a couple tabs of acid out of his pocket and puts them on his tongue as Matilda enters)

MATILDA:  I swear to God I just saw you eating postage stamps.

KEVIN:  No, no, not at all.  (Pause)  I need a break.

MATILDA:  So you’re planning another trip?

KEVIN:  Maybe.  What are you up to?

MATILDA:  I’m going to explore a bit, try to meet some people.  I was told there was a woman, Siobhan Lincoln, who knows more about the history of this place than anyone else.  I want to try to find her.

KEVIN:  Good luck with that.

MATILDA:  So far I’ve found several talkative people.  If you’re looking for your ancestors make sure to go to the post office.  The postmistress will connect you with all the right people.

KEVIN:  Thank you.  I’ll try that.

MATILDA:  Are you okay?

KEVIN:  Yeah, I’ll be fine.

(Clancy enters)

CLANCY (showing things from his packages):  B’gosh and begorah!  I found the most shockingly delightful souvenirs for my friends back home.  Fridge magnets.  Can you believe it?  In Ireland?  Fridge magnets that say “I heart Ireland”, but the heart is in green instead of red.  Isn’t that adorable?

KEVIN:  Yeah, they’re nice.  Very nice.  I’m sure you’re friends will love them.

CLANCY (to Matilda):  And I think they’re authentic.  Oh, and real Guinness shot glasses.  And key rings galore.  (Pulling out a roll of toilet paper with shamrocks on it)  And toilet paper.

MATILDA:  You bought all this already?

CLANCY:  The day is young.  I’m not done yet.

(Clancy exits)

MATILDA:  Sure you’re okay?

KEVIN:  Yeah, I’ve just got some things going on, but thanks.

MATILDA:  All right.  I’m going back to the post office.

(Matilda exits; Michael enters)

MICHAEL:  I thought you’d be at the pub a while.

KEVIN:  No, I, uh . . . Grace didn’t want to stay.  She went . . . well, you know what?  I’m not sure.  I was just going to go off in the woods and relax for a bit.

MICHAEL:  Let me walk with ye.  I’d like to show ye a bit of the town.  My family is from here, too, ye know.

KEVIN:  I do remember you saying that at the start of the trip.

(He chuckles a bit to himself)

MICHAEL:  I’m not sure what’s so funny with it.  Where is Grace. did ye say?

KEVIN:  I don’t know right now.  Grace is leaving me . . . again.  I think this time it’s for real.

MICHAEL:  And what did ye do to deserve it?

KEVIN:  I’m an ass.

MICHAEL:  Then maybe ye do deserve it.

KEVIN:  Maybe.  Look, she’s a good woman, but . . .

MICHAEL:  But?

KEVIN:  I sort of hope she goes through with it this time.  I can’t take her emotional manipulation with that constant, repeated threat of leaving me.  I think I could live easier without her.  I’m not saying I’m a perfect man by any means.  Believe me, I’m not.

MICHAEL:  Oh, I believe ye.

KEVIN:  I drink too much, I do drugs, I take her for granted.  I don’t cheat on her, but I might as well for all the attention I pay her.  I don’t know why she’s put up with me so long.

MICHAEL:  And do ye know why you’ve put up with her so long?

KEVIN:  I love her.  I think I love her.

MICHAEL:  Do ye want to know what I think?

KEVIN:  Do you love your wife?

MICHAEL:  With all my heart and soul.

KEVIN:  But you guys argue all the time.

MICHAEL:  We are honest with each other, and that sometimes means we disagree.  But we always respect each other.  And we do love each other—moreso, I think, as time goes on.

KEVIN:  Then yes, I would like to know what you think.

MICHAEL:  I think you’re together out of need, not out of desire.  A relationship can’t be built on need—it has to be built on want.  You have to be able to live with yourself before you can live with others.

KEVIN:  Well, thank you, Dr. Phil.

MICHAEL:  And who might that be?

KEVIN:  Oh, he’s on American T. V.  He’s sort of a quack psychologist.  He gives advice to people, whether it’s wanted or not, and it’s usually bullshit.

MICHAEL:  And that is how you think of me, is it?  Perhaps I won’t walk with ye after all.  Or allow ye back on my bus.

KEVIN:  No, no, I know you’re right.  It just sounds trite.

MICHAEL:  Well, sometimes words of wisdom can be trite and true.

(Michael laughs a little)

KEVIN:  That was one of the worst puns I’ve ever heard.  Do I really have to listen to this?

MICHAEL:  If we are to walk together, then yes.

KEVIN:  Maybe I should walk alone.

MICHAEL:  I’d like to walk with ye if ye don’t mind.

KEVIN:  I guess I don’t.  Where to?

MICHAEL:  I want to show you the sights around Ardmore.  Everyone who comes here goes to St. Declan’s Cathedral and to the Round Tower and those are things every visitor should see.  But there are places the townsfolk go—a cave, the cliff walk above the ocean, a couple holy wells, St. Declan’s stone, the fairy circle where the leprechauns live—that are full of magic.  Most tourists see the cathedral and the tower and maybe one of these other things if they’re lucky.  We’ll start with the secret cave.

KEVIN:  Secret?  How could it be secret?

MICHAEL:  The tourists don’t know about it.  Those who live here do and once in a while it is shared with an outsider.  You have connections here.  Your ancestors lived here.  They would have known the cave.  They would have communed with the fairies there.

KEVIN:  You mean the leprechauns?

MICHAEL:  No, the fairies.

KEVIN:  I don’t know.  You probably want to relax after all that driving, and I don’t know about caves.

MICHAEL:  It’s a cave unlike any other you’ve ever seen.

KEVIN:  How so?

MICHAEL:  It reveals you.  It is so pitch black that you can see nothing, you can look at nothing, so all you can do is turn inward and see yourself.

KEVIN:  I’m not so sure I’d like what I see.

MICHAEL:  And then, even though no one has ever found a second entrance there is natural light that spills from some unknown source.  Some call it Declan’s Light.  And the light always seems to come when you have connected with yourself.  It’s a wondrous place, full of surprises.

KEVIN:  What kind of surprises?

MICHAEL:  Nothing that should scare ye too much.

KEVIN:  I really should . . . maybe I should go.

MICHAEL:  I am just wondering what ye might be so afraid of.

KEVIN:  I’m not afraid.  I just don’t like caves.  They creep me out.

MICHAEL:  So you’re not afraid, but you’re scared.  Is that what I heard?  It makes as much sense as spending money to save it.

KEVIN:  That doesn’t make any sense at all.

MICHAEL:  There ye have it.  Follow me now.

KEVIN:  But I don’t . . . I should be going.  How far is it?

MICHAEL:  How far are ye willing to go?

KEVIN:  I don’t know.  Maybe a mile or two at the most.

MICHAEL:  Certainly you would think it’s less than that or you wouldn’t be walking toward it with me now, would ye?

KEVIN:  No I guess yes I think I don’t know maybe?

MICHAEL:  Right.  Let’s go then.  We’ll be two miles away before ye know it.

(They exit as lights go to black)

 

SCENE SEVEN:  TO THE DEPTHS

(In the darkness)

KEVIN:  That was more than two miles.

MICHAEL:  I think it was seven.

KEVIN:  But you said it would be two miles.

MICHAEL:  No, I said we’d be two miles before you knew it, and we were.

KEVIN:  Yeah, four, five miles ago.

MICHAEL:  We could go back if ye think it’s too far.

KEVIN:  No.

MICHAEL:  So look around then.  Isn’t it beautiful, as I said?

KEVIN:  I can’t see anything.

MICHAEL:  Look deeply.

(Silence)

KEVIN:  Okay, I’m looking.  (Silence)  Where are you?  (No answer)  Where are you?  (No answer)  Where the hell are you!?!

VOICE:  Look deeply.

KEVIN:  Goddam it, I don’t know where the hell I am.  What’s going on?

WHISPERED VOICE:  Look deeply.

KEVIN:  Michael!  (Pause)  Okay, get a hold of yourself.  This is okay.  He said that there’s light, the light comes when you look into yourself.  Focus.  Focus on me.  Think.  Think.  Feel.  (Pause)  I was right.  I don’t like what I see.

(A shaft of light appears, dimly lighting the stage around Kevin; as the scene progresses the light grows in intensity; a fanfare is heard; Earl & Lady Grady enter)

EARL GRADY:  Where is the queen?

(They cross up right)

KEVIN:  Oh, boy, am I glad to see you.  (No response, as if they don’t hear him; the Earl and Lady start to make out, then become very animal-like in their interaction)  Hey, hey, you’re not alone.  (They both stand fully upright and against the wall with arms outstretched and slowly start to sidle off stage)  Hey!  What the hell?  (The Bodrhan player enters, followed by others who are singing)

SINGERS:      In the mirror

                        The broken mirror

                        Broken glass flowers

                        Inside of me

                        Infinity

                        Broken dreams and hours

                        Lost in the dark

                        Lost in the dark

                        And broken mirror.

(They have exited; a bright light shines on Kevin as Grace enters opposite, dressed in a white flowing dress; she does a strange dance, full of anguish and anger; Kevin cannot speak; Grace exits; Kevin slowly spins to the floor where he lies on his back; suddenly he bolts up to a sitting position looking out as if having seen something; several characters in frightening or ugly masks enter and dance around him in a threatening manner; this lasts for a bit; their dance suggests physical abuse or torture; they finally stop and slowly exit; there is silence for a moment and then a song is heard off stage, to the tune of Paul Anka’s My Way)

RAZOR:         Now fuck, the end is near

(Razor enters singing and looking like a lounge singer)

                        And so I face the final goddam curtain.

(Two actors with devil’s masks peer out from each side of a curtain)

                        My friend, I’ll say it clear,

                        I’ll state my case of which I’m certain.

KEVIN:  What the hell!  What’s going on here?

RAZOR (very condescendingly kind)  Fuck you.  Yeah, fuck you.

                        I’ve fucked, I’ve drank, I’ve cried.

                        I’ve shaved my balls, my hair I’m losing.

                        And now as tears arise

                        I find it all so amusing.

                        To think I did all that

                        And may I say, not in a good way;

                        Oh, no, no, not me;

                        I did it my fuckin’ way.

                        Oh, no, no, not you;

                        You did it your fucked up way.

 

                        For what is a man, what has he got;

                        If not for himself, then he has not.

                        To say the words he truly feels

                        And not the words he would reveal

(Spoken)          Again

                        To say the words he truly feels

                        And not the words he would reveal

(Switches to the tune of Billy Joel’s Honesty)

                        Honesty is such a lonely word.

                        Everyone is so untrue.

(Switches back to the tune of Paul Anka’s My Way)

                        To say the words he truly feels

                        And not the words he would reveal . . .

(Switches to the tune of Billy Joel’s Honesty)

                        Honesty is hardly ever heard

                        And mostly what I need from you.

(Kevin lunges after Razor hitting him in a very stylized fashion; Razor finally pushes him away, again in a very stylized fashion, then continues singing to the tune of Paul Anka’s My Way)

                        The record shows I took the blows

                        And did it my way.

                        The record shows I took the blows

                        And did it my way.

(As Razor finishes singing there is the sound of crying and wailing children off stage, up left; a Jesus figure enters up right and crosses toward the sound; he stops just left of center and looks at Kevin; there is a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning; Kevin screams in terror and falls to his knees on the floor as the Jesus figure exits; there is another flash of lightning and then blackness; the sound of the children crying is heard in the darkness, then stops; suddenly the same shaft of light appears that started the scene; it grows enough to show Michael kneeling over Kevin’s prone body)

MICHAEL:  Ah, Declan’s Light.  Are ye all right there, lad?

KEVIN:  No, I . . . bad trip, I guess.

MICHAEL:  I’ve been giving tours for a quarter of a century and you’re the first man who ever said that.

KEVIN:  Where did you go?

MICHAEL:  I’ve been here all along.  Where did you go?

KEVIN:  I was right . . . I don’t know.

(Traveler enters)

TRAVELER:  Excuse me.  Could you tell me how to get to heaven?

KEVIN:  What?  Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere on the west coast?  Looking for goats?

MICHAEL:  There, there, it’s okay.

KEVIN:  Tell him how to get to the goat farm.

MICHAEL:  Who?

KEVIN:  The traveler.  He’s looking for the goat farm.

MICHAEL:  There’s no one there.

KEVIN:  He’s standing right in front of us.

TRAVELER:  I want to get to heaven.

KEVIN:  How do you get to heaven?

MICHAEL:  Oh, I didn’t see.  (To the traveler, but not quite looking at him)  You follow the light out the cave.  Find my wife—she’ll be listening at the entrance—and she’ll be able to tell ye.

MARGARET (off stage):  I heard that.

(Long pause)

KEVIN:  I have to quit the drugs.  I have to get my shit together.  That was quite the experience.

MICHAEL:  Everyone has visions here, ye know.  Unless you’re completely dead.  As long as ye still have life in your soul . . .

KEVIN:  I think you are a leprechaun.

MICHAEL:  I told ye I was a feckin’ leprechaun when we started the trip.  Would an Irishman lie, or even stretch the truth?  If ye think I’m a leprechaun then that’s what you think.  I can be whatever you want me to be.

(Pause)

KEVIN:  Did you?

MICHAEL:  What?

KEVIN:  Have a vision?

MICHAEL:  Yes.

KEVIN:  Just now, I mean.

MICHAEL (smiling):  Yes.

KEVIN:  What about?

MICHAEL:  A leprechaun does not give away secrets.

KEVIN:  Come on, tell me.  What about?

MICHAEL:  Ah, that’s between me and the saints, it is.  (Pause)  And Margaret, just outside the entrance there.

MARGARET:  Get out here now or I’ll be coming in after you.

KEVIN:  I need a drink.  Let’s go get a drink.

MICHAEL:  Are ye sure ye want to do that?

KEVIN:  Sure as sure.  I don’t know.  Maybe I just need the company.

MICHAEL (as they’re exiting):  I still have much to show you.

(Light fades to shaft of light again, then to black)

 

SCENE EIGHT:  CLIFF WALK

(Lights up on pub; all the tourists and a few locals are there when Michael, Margaret, and Kevin enter)

CLANCY:  Where have you been?  I went shopping.

KAJSA:  I flew along.

MATILDA:  I found a place to live.  I’ve decided to stay here and study for a while.  What did you find?

KEVIN:  I’m not sure.  I have to think.

(Grace crosses to Kevin)

GRACE:  Happy anniversary, Kevin.

KEVIN:  I thought we were done again.

EAMON:  That’s me, Eamon Donegan.  What kin I git ye?

MICHAEL:  I’ll have a pint of Beamish to share with my Margaret.

EAMON:  Sure, and a fine Margaret she is.

MARGARET:  You watch your gob there, boy-o.  Ye might be right but you shouldn’t ought to say it.

MICHAEL:  Mind her.  And get the lad what he wants.

EAMON:  How about eternal happiness?

KEVIN:  I’m afraid I can’t afford it.

EAMON:  It’s the price of a Guinness.

KEVIN:  The Guinness is too much.  I think I’ll have a Coke.

MICHAEL:  I thought you wanted a drink.

KEVIN:  No, I needed a drink.  Now I want a Coke.

MARGARET:  He’s buying.  Ye don’t know how rare this is.  Take advantage of it.

KEVIN:  Seriously, I think I’ll have a Coke.

CLANCY:  You’re much more fun when you’re drinking.  You should have one.

CUSTOMER:  If he don’t want it I’ll take his and buy him a Coke in return.

KEVIN:  Jesus Christ!  I just want a fuckin’ Coke.

MICHAEL (to Eamon):  Give him a Coke.

GRACE:  You’re really not drinking?

KEVIN:  You’re really not embarrassed?

GRACE:  No.

MARGARET:  Just wait.  I’m sure you will be.  Michael doesn’t need to drink to do foolish things.

MICHAEL:  I married you sober, didn’t I?

GRACE:  That’s more than you can say.

MARGARET:  You bite your tongue.

KEVIN:  Let it go, baby.  That is in the past.  I’m here now, and I’m not having a drink.  I’m quitting.

GRACE:  I’ll believe that when I see it.

KEVIN:  Ye of little faith.

GRACE:  I’ve been after you forever to do that.  I don’t have faith.  I can’t believe it.  I’m sure you can understand why I can’t believe it.  I never thought you’d do that for me.

KEVIN:  And I never will.  I’m doing it for me.

GRACE:  Kevin.

KEVIN:  Grace, I’m sorry I couldn’t do it for you.  I’m sorry I couldn’t do a lot for you.  I’m sorry I couldn’t be who you wanted me to be.  But I am me.  This is what you got and you were never happy with what you got.

GRACE:  I love you.  Let’s go back to the hotel.

KEVIN:  I love you, too, baby, I do.  That makes this hurt all the more.  I’m not coming back to you this time.  It’s one too many times.  I have to hold onto some small bit of self-respect.  And I have to find myself.  I’m going for a walk along the cliff.  Who knows, I might just jump in the ocean.  I might follow the path until it ends, and maybe it never ends.  Who knows?  I don’t.  But I know I’ll walk the edge of that cliff free.

GRACE:  I’m going back to the hotel.  I’ll see you when you change your mind.

(Grace exits)

KEVIN (to Michael):  I will be free.  I could jump if I wanted.  I guess they don’t call it a cliff walk for nothing.

MICHAEL:  No, they don’t.  It’s right on the edge of the ocean.

KEVIN:  I want to see where it takes me.  Let’s go, before the sun goes down.

(Kevin and Michael exit)

MATILDA:  Tell me about the cliff walk.  I want to learn everything there is before it all changes.  But I want to enjoy the changes, too.  Life is always changing.  It’s scary and exciting, ugly and beautiful at the same time.

EAMON:  And so is the cliff walk.  It’s an ancient path that leads out of town through the cattle fields out to the ocean.  It straddles solid ground and nothingness and there are two sacred wells and many sacred spots along it.  It’s one path, but many.

CLANCY:  But how can it be both one path and many?

EAMON:  Oh, I don’t know.  I guess it depends on which way you walk it.  I’ll let you decide.

(Lights to black)



* Statistic from Union of International Associations, “World Problems – Issues Online” at http://www.diversitas.org/db/x.php?dbcode=pr&go=e&id=11286130

* The Capital Times, “Project Seeks to Save Dying World Languages”, by Carl Hartmann/Associated Press; August 11, 2005.