Monkey Dance Honeymoon by Paul Thain

                                    Price $7.95 Add to cart

 

This Play is the copyright of the Author and must not be Performed, Copied or Sold without the Author’s prior consent


ACT ONE

The Stage is covered with sand, rising to a gentle heap upstage centre ...

Stage-right - a Unit in a poor African compound, signified by angled sheets of rusting
corrugated iron, up-turned oil drums, a small double bed, a cheap radio-cassette, the
Qur’an, and a meagre string of Christmas tree lights

Stage-left - a Unit in the luxury compound of Hotel Paradise, particularly a seashore patio,
signified by sun-beds, beach chairs, a table and parasol, and a bowl of tropical fruit
containing a telephone in the shape of a banana

Segregating these Units is a high wire-meshed Fence, stretching from USL to USC, then
curling down to DSR. The Fence is in two lengths, overlapping half-way, thereby
providing an “invisible” gap to facilitate quick access between the main acting areas

Begin in Black with a pre-recorded sequence, starting with a soft hissing whine

From Black, we hear Zoe, a Northerner, whispering to Nathan, a Londoner, both twenties ...

ZOE : Nathan ?  ... Nathan ? 

NATHAN : ... hm ?

ZOE: I still can’t believe we’re actually going to do it. 

NATHAN : No.  Me neither.

ZOE: You okay ?

NATHAN : Fine, I’m fine.

ZOE : You don’t look it.

NATHAN : I’m fine.

ZOE : Say you love me.

NATHAN : Zoe ... 

ZOE : Go on ...

NATHAN :Zoe, please ...

ZOE : Go on - two minutes time we could both be dead.

NATHAN : For fuck’s sake, woman.

ZOE: Well we could.

NATHAN : I know we could. I know we bloody could. Don’t you think I know that ? Don’t you think I’m aware of what could, what could ... yeh, okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m a bit, a bit - I love you, ok ?

ZOE : A bit what ?

NATHAN : Leave it, will you ?

ZOE : Nathan, you’ve gone all sweaty, now come on - what is it, what’s wrong ? 

NATHAN : This is my first time.

ZOE : ... what ?  You mean you’ve never - ?

NATHAN : It’s ridiculous, I know it’s ridiculous, but I’ve always put it off, found excuses.

ZOE : Why didn’t you say ?

THE HISSING WHINE INCREASES

NATHAN : I thought I’d be okay, I thought I could handle it, I thought when the
time came I’d be all right, I even took hypnosis. 

ZOE : You didn’t ?

NATHAN : I did.  Zoe, I’m bloody terrified, I’m not even sure I can go through with it.

ZOE : You what ?

NATHAN : I’m sorry, angel, but -

..ZOE : . sorry ?  You’ve left it a bit bloody late….

NATHAN : ... however irrational, there’s part of me just doesn’t believe it’s physically possible. It’s the way I am, I can’t -

THE HISSING WHINE RISES TO A SUDDEN ROAR
 
NATHAN : ... shit ...

ZOE : It’s all right.

NATHAN : ... bloody hell ...

ZOE : It’s perfectly normal.

NATHAN : ... jesus ...

THE 737 SOARS AND FADES INTO THE SKY ...

Cicadas chant in the heat of a tropical sun

LIGHTS RISE on Jalamang, seventeen, a black African, standing
behind the Fence reading his “Complete Works of William
Shakespeare”.  He wears T-shirt, jeans and plastic flip-flops

The 737 approaches, squeals as it lands ...

Jalamang looks up, closes his book. He then presses his face
against the Wire fence and projects a whisper to an invisible Queue

JALAMANG : Hello.  Welcome.  Any newspaper, any magazine ?

A Tannoy pings into life and a female Voice announces ...

VOICE : Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Africa !

JALAMANG : Hello. Welcome. Any newspaper, any magazine ?

VOICE : Will all passengers please proceed to Passport Control and
Immigration.

Zoe & Nathan enter DSR and join the invisible Queue, each
carrying hand luggage. She wears a summer dress & sun-hat while
he wears thick trousers, rolled-up shirt and carries a winter jacket

JALAMANG : Hello.  Welcome. Any newspaper, any magazine ?

Nathan traps his shoulder-bag between his feet, then wafts himself
with a computer magazine

ZOE : Hot ?

NATHAN : No, no ... stiff wrist. 

ZOE : ... funny ...

NATHAN : Passengers waiting for the return flight to London Heathrow are
reminded the Duty Free Shop is now open.

ZOE : ! was half expecting you to drop to your knees and kiss the tarmac.
You know, like the Pope.  Aw, come on - you’re not still in a huff ? You are, aren’t you ? 

NATHAN : Sorry - were you talking to me ?

ZOE : Prhaps I was a touch insensitive.

NATHAN : (as the queue shuffles forward) ... a touch ?

ZOE : It was for your own good.  When I saw the blood drain from your
knuckles, I thought a bit of humour might help.

NATHAN : Eight miles high and approaching touchdown and it’s ” ... don’t you worry, pet -
flying’s perfectly safe, except for the last six inches”. That’s not humour, Zoe, that’s sadism.

ZOE : Terrible, aren’t I ? So how can I make amends?

JALAMANG : Hello.  Welcome.

ZOE : How can I appease my lord and master’s righteous indignation ?

JALAMANG : Any newspaper, any magazine ?

NATHAN : Eight letters, begins with ‘F’ - the closest a man comes to a woman’s mind.

ZOE : My oh my, what a surprise !

NATHAN : You did ask.

JALAMANG : Any newspaper, any magazine ?

Nathan’s seen Tasmeera enter - a beautiful black woman in her
early twenties, carrying a small suitcase and wearing an expensive
Western-style outfit.  He inhales lasciviously as she passes ...

ZOE :.. behave yourself !

NATHAN : Can’t I even look ?

ZOE : Not like that you can’t.

NATHAN : I’m a man, I come pre-programmed - pun intended.
ZOE : Bollocks.

NATHAN : Precisely.

Tasmeera decides to risk approaching Jalamang ...

TASMEERA   : Jalamang, what are you doing here ? Is it Yanks ? Is Yanks okay ?

JALAMANG : Yanks is fine, no problem.  I am trying to hustle newspapers. As you can see, I am not having much luck.

TASMEERA : But what about school ?

JALAMANG : Father die last week.

TASMEERA : Oh, Jalamang ...

JALAMANG : So much debt, now there is no money for school.

TASMEERA : Forgive me - I can’t stay, I have to go. 

JALAMANG : Yanks is waiting for you.

[end of extract]

                                    Price $7.95 Add to cart