The Turquoise Elephant Read online

  JEFF: Okay.

  Beat.

  What’s the latest on your grandma?

  BASRA: It’s touch and go. They think they might be able to source most of the organs from the one person. She’s on the top of the list.

  JEFF: I bet she is! That machine your grandmother’s on. I’ll lay money on it having a Cleveland microchip inside it. So I guess you could say I’m helping.

  Yep. She may pull through after all.

  Isn’t that great?

  [To OLYMPIA] Olympia?

  He waves his hands in front of her eyes.

  She never did this on the ship in the Arctic.

  She is alive, isn’t she?

  BASRA: I think so.

  JEFF: How old is she exactly?

  BASRA: [with a shrug] Ninety. A hundred. Immortal.

  JEFF: Huh. Isn’t that great?

  Beat.

  Now, I know the timing of this statement might sound callous to you, Basra. But if your grandma dies, and once Miss Olympia here drops off her perch—God forbid—you stand to inherit your family’s considerable wealth. You’re going to be in a position to make all sorts of things possible …

  BASRA: —

  JEFF: Flipping the one per cent, remember?

  BASRA: I—

  OLYMPIA: Boom!

  Beat. And back to her trance.

  JEFF: Is she …?

  BASRA: She’s fine. Look. Jeff. Now isn’t the right—

  JEFF: Now is the perfect time to strike.

  BASRA: For me.

  JEFF: To take advantage of the chaos on the streets.

  BASRA: It isn’t the right time for me.

  JEFF: But if your grandmother dies, you’ll have to take on the lobbying.

  BASRA: For what?

  JEFF: For New Eden. And help me identify pilgrims. The right kind. It seems to me that this here Front you talked about—the ones responsible for your grandma’s accident—

  BASRA: It was Visi who blew herself up. No group’s claimed responsibility yet.

  JEFF: Basra—maids don’t have access to ballistics and explosives as a general rule.

  Beat.

  They may be the people we’re looking for.

  BASRA: I really don’t think that’s appropriate—

  JEFF: You were a fan …

  BASRA: Until I was their target.

  JEFF: Your Grandma was the target.

  BASRA: I feel betrayed.

  JEFF: Sure. But … [A different tack.] You don’t want to help anymore.

  BASRA: No—that’s not what I said.

  JEFF: You’ve given up.

  BASRA: I’m confused. Everything’s upside down.

  JEFF: Well now—one setback and you’ve given up. The paradigm programming kicks right back in, and the self-protection instinct takes over. I understand.

  BASRA: —

  OLYMPIA: [suddenly] The maid! She’s back!

  BASRA: Visi’s dead, Aunt Olympia.

  OLYMPIA: She’s back.

  JEFF: Not in one piece.

  OLYMPIA: There on the street. In the lobby.

  BASRA: You were just having a bad dream.

  OLYMPIA: There was an elephant. A turquoise elephant roaming the streets of the city.

  BASRA: They’re hallucinations—

  OLYMPIA: Everything upside down.

  JEFF: The world’s gone crazy, that’s for sure. Hellfire and ruination!

  The turquoise elephant appears.

  OLYMPIA: No! No! Get it away from me!

  BASRA: Olympia?

  OLYMPIA: It’s coming for me! The elephant. Get it away. Get it away!

  BASRA: Aunt Olympia, wake up!

  The elephant fades, and she’s back in her trance again. JEFF waves his hands across her eyes.

  JEFF: Well now. If that ain’t the darndest thing.

  BASRA: I should get her to bed.

  JEFF: Sure. But this conversation isn’t over, Basra. I’ll talk you round. I know your life is in a state of flux, but you have a contribution to make. A vital one. I truly believe that. Lives don’t just intersect like ours have for no reason. Your aunt and I being on that cruise. Meeting you all. Fate decreed it …

  OLYMPIA snaps out of her reverie.

  OLYMPIA: The elephant. It’s delivered her.

  BASRA: You were dreaming.

  OLYMPIA: Here she is.

  And in walks VISI.

  Silence.

  BASRA: It’s not possible.

  JEFF: Well, that is remarkable. Did you conjure her? I haven’t seen that done outside of the Caribbean.

  VISI: Please. I only have a few minutes. The security …

  BASRA: How did you get through them? Are they all asleep? [To OLYMPIA] Call them!

  OLYMPIA: They can’t arrest a ghost!

  VISI: I’m not a ghost.

  BASRA: But you’re dead.

  OLYMPIA: [to JEFF] Her head landed in the fourteenth row.

  VISI: It was Vika.

  OLYMPIA: I was there. Saw it sail right past.

  VISI: My sister.

  BASRA: What?

  VISI: My twin sister. Vika.

  A pause as this sinks in.

  She asked me all about you. Details about your grandmother’s movements. Her schedule. We swapped places. On the way to the hotel.

  BASRA: She was here?

  VISI: Sometimes. Doing your grandmother’s hair … Posting your video …

  BASRA: That was her?

  VISI: She said she was looking for the right opportunity. The right—what did she call it? The right forum.

  BASRA: Then you’re an accessory.

  OLYMPIA: After the fact!

  VISI: I didn’t want her to do it.

  OLYMPIA: Or possibly even before it. But what was the fact?

  VISI: I didn’t think it would happen.

  OLYMPIA: The fact was her head landed in the fourteenth row.

  JEFF: There’s no getting around that.

  VISI: Help me.

  BASRA: We need to call them.

  OLYMPIA: Who?

  VISI: Please.

  BASRA: Give me the phone.

  OLYMPIA: Where is the phone?

  BASRA: I’ll buzz security.

  OLYMPIA: What does it look like?

  JEFF: Now hold on. Let’s just hold on a minute. Basra—it seems to me that our friend here wants to make a deal.

  BASRA: Short of selling us her internal organs, I’m not sure what it is she can do.

  VISI: I can put you in touch with them.

  Pause.

  JEFF: Did you hear that, Basra? Visi has contacts.

  VISI: I do. I can help you.

  BASRA: Help me what?

  VISI: Whatever you need.

  JEFF: Contacts, Basra. Think of the contacts.

  BASRA: I don’t need The Front.

  JEFF: I do. These Front people. They’re the real deal. They’re the sort of people who will give up everything to build a new community. This is the gene pool we need to start rebuilding from!

  VISI: He’s right.

  BASRA: What are you talking about—gene pool? I thought we were taking in refugees. I thought New Eden was housing the displaced!

  JEFF: They’re warriors!

  BASRA: They’re murderers.

  OLYMPIA: I’m confused. Whose side are we on?

  BASRA: This woman plotted to kill your sister.

  OLYMPIA: Well, that didn’t work, did it?

  VISI: She’s alive?

  OLYMPIA: Just.

  BASRA: So it’s only attempted murder you’re an accomplice to now. Sleep well.

  VISI: Then my sister died for nothing.

  Beat.

  BASRA: Why are you here?

  VISI: You’re the only one who can help me.

  BASRA: How do I know you’re not still working for them?

  VISI: I was never with The Front.

  BASRA: How did you even get in here? The security codes. My God, she has our security codes! They all do!

&
nbsp; JEFF: Oh, those can be changed.

  VISI: Basra—please. I’m desperate.

  BASRA: You really think I’ll help you after—

  VISI: Please. I thought we were friends. I thought we were—

  BASRA: What?

  OLYMPIA: Oh, this is all so tedious. I liked her better when she didn’t speak.

  JEFF: I think she’s an innocent in all this. I really do.

  BASRA: Yes, thanks, Jeff.

  OLYMPIA: Was that her or the other one?

  JEFF: I think she can help, Basra.

  OLYMPIA: The one that didn’t speak.

  JEFF: I sniff win-win in all this.

  BASRA: I don’t. She was an accomplice to the planned murder of my grandmother.

  OLYMPIA: To an acting Head of State.

  BASRA: She can fuck off.

  Beat.

  VISI: Right. Okay. I guess that’s the end of that, then.

  BASRA: You think you can just leave?

  VISI: Are you going to stop me?

  Pause.

  You’ve made a decision. Your political beliefs only seem to apply to other people’s families. You’ll house strangers in a fucking shack in the mountains, but you won’t help me. So I’ll leave and you can wrap yourself up in your fortress house and your wealth, and keep writing about turquoise elephants. It’s words with all of you. ‘Tisane’ this and ‘rococo’ that …

  BASRA: Don’t you dare—my mother was a writer. My mother was a fucking Iraqi woman journalist who was killed—

  VISI: You’re a do-nothing—

  BASRA: —not even you and your terrorist frauds could imagine—

  VISI: A do-nothing, armchair—

  BASRA: Excuse me, I’m talking. I’m talking.

  Beat.

  My mother had her throat sliced and her body pumped of blood—some monster stood on her stomach and pumped the blood from her body because she dared to criticise his cult in her newspaper. She was sacrificed on the fucking altar, Visi, in a way that makes your lot look like dilettantes. So don’t you dare talk to me about wrapping myself up in a fortress. You are wrong about me. Wrong.

  VISI: Prove it.

  TRANSITION SEQUENCE:

  Video sequence. The masked member of The Front again.

  MASKED FIGURE: Rise up! Rise up, people!

  We’re coming.

  For every one of you.

  Living in your ivory towers.

  Encased in your humidicribs and humidispheres.

  We’ll hunt you down.

  One by one.

  When you’re sleeping.

  In your beds.

  Behind your triple glazing.

  You won’t know where to look.

  We’ll be the ones throwing the bricks.

  We’ll be the ones holding your hand in hospital.

  Adjusting your drips.

  Donating your organs.

  We’ll be inside you next.

  You won’t know where to fucking look.

  We’re inside you.

  Do you get that?

  Inside you.

  SCENE SEVEN

  The doors blow open and AUGUSTA hurtles into the room, bandaged head to toe. A pair of large, dark sunglasses are all that we see of her face. The same bouffant sticks out of the top of the bandages. A dramatic pause as the tumult dies down. And then, finally, she speaks:

  AUGUSTA: Ich bin mit dem Schiff hierhergekommen. Die Jahreszeiten sind hier verkehrt herum. Nur die Kiefer sind mir bekannt. [I arrived here on a boat. The seasons are upside down. Only the pine trees are familiar.]

  A split second, and then JEFF enters, fiddling with a handheld device.

  JEFF: According to this machine, I think you just said you arrived here by a boat. The seasons are upside down. And only the pine trees are familiar.

  AUGUSTA: Who are you?

  JEFF: I’m the morning shift.

  AUGUSTA: It feels like there’s another person living inside my body.

  JEFF: Apparently there are three. Donors, that is. Vying for internal supremacy.

  AUGUSTA: Help me to the window.

  He does.

  I’ve never really looked at the city from here.

  JEFF: Heatwaves and humanity as far as the eye can see. Not in New Eden though.

  AUGUSTA: What’s that?

  JEFF: New Eden? Well, it’s paradise. It will be. A fifty thousand square kilometre garden. Self-sustaining. Every tropical fruit and vegetable known to humanity. All that rain falling where it’s never fallen before. We’ve got to get in. Before everyone else does.

  AUGUSTA: Sounds urgent.

  He pulls documents from his attaché case.

  JEFF: Oh, yes, ma’am. And with your family’s investment, and your government’s permission, we’d own it. Secure. We’d build a dome.

  AUGUSTA: My government?

  JEFF: Yes, ma’am.

  AUGUSTA: Am I still in government?

  JEFF: [offering her a pen] Why, you’re the interim Head of State, ma’am. They haven’t had time to replace you. We were talking about this yesterday.

  AUGUSTA: I don’t know who you are.

  JEFF: Sure you do. Remember? We’re building a humidisphere. You’re going to be safe there. It’s a secret location.

  AUGUSTA: Is it a retirement village?

  JEFF: No! We hope most people there will be young. Breeding the next generation of ark-dwellers. Hell, we may even be starting a new species of man. And woman. A species content to get quiet, live simply—without violence and hierarchy. A species devoted to peaceful thought and constructive rumination.

  AUGUSTA: Like Trappist monks.

  JEFF: Yeah, maybe. Maybe the species has already been invented.

  AUGUSTA: And become extinct. Maybe you’re just bringing it back from the brink.

  JEFF: The other day—before your terrible accident—you asked me to book you a place on the ark.

  AUGUSTA: I did?

  JEFF: Yes, you were about to sign … [showing the place on the document] right here.

  AUGUSTA: What was I signing?

  JEFF: The document to the Minister recommending the release of the Crown land to me. He’s been paralysed for weeks. Doesn’t know what to do. But a recommendation from you would be all he needs to agree. Right here …

  AUGUSTA: Are you sure?

  JEFF: Basra believes in New Eden. Olympia believes in New Eden. We’re all moving there together.

  AUGUSTA: Well, if Basra agrees …

  She signs the paper. JEFF turns each sheet of the document over for her to sign during the following.

  What will I do there?

  JEFF: We’d find a good use for you.

  AUGUSTA: I have … vague memories of being a pioneer. Arriving on a boat. In another city. With pine trees on the beach. It’s all … just beyond the frontier of consciousness. It comes to me in the silent hours. Twilight. And dawn.

  JEFF: There now. Getting quiet. That’s the key to unlocking the Paradigm programming.

  AUGUSTA: [still signing] I think we planted grapes. Die Erde besteht aus Kalkstein und wird gut zu Weinbau passen. [The soil is made of limestone. It will be good for wine.]

  JEFF: Oops. I didn’t get to this here translator in time. Was that something about wine?

  AUGUSTA: [suddenly distressed] Where’s Basra? And Olympia?

  JEFF: Oh, don’t you worry about that now. They’re not far away. We’re looking after you in shifts.

  He gets the final copy signed and begins to slip the papers away out of sight in his case.

  AUGUSTA: Do I know you? Are you the physiotherapist?

  JEFF: Well—sure. If that makes you happy. I’m the physiotherapist.

  AUGUSTA relaxes, then spies something through the window.

  AUGUSTA: What’s that?

  JEFF: What’s what?

  AUGUSTA: On the street. There’s an—an elephant. Do you see it?

  JEFF: Where?

  AUGUSTA: There. By the pavilion. An elephant.

&nbs
p; JEFF: I don’t—

  AUGUSTA: It’s blue.

  JEFF: The pavilion?

  AUGUSTA: The elephant. An aqua-coloured …

  JEFF: Well now, that don’t—

  AUGUSTA: … turquoise-coloured … You must see it.

  JEFF: [genuinely trying] I can’t—

  AUGUSTA: It’s stopping traffic!

  JEFF: Where?

  AUGUSTA: There!

  He can’t see it.

  Gone.

  Silence.

  There’s a treaty.

  JEFF: Say what now?

  AUGUSTA: There’s a treaty to be signed. It’s urgent.

  She is becoming distressed again. Wheeling around the room.

  Everything’s a jumble. It’s all these … organs. I don’t know who I am.

  BASRA: [entering] That will be all, Jeff.

  AUGUSTA: Oh, Basra. You’ll know. I’m getting these memories of us being planters. Planters and harvesters.

  BASRA: Who—the Macquaries?

  AUGUSTA: But weren’t we diggers?

  BASRA: You name it, we’ve dug it up, stripped it bare and dispossessed whoever had it first.

  AUGUSTA: Then who grew the wine?

  BASRA: No idea.

  AUGUSTA: It’s important. And what’s this treaty about?

  BASRA: Don’t get me started on the treaty.

  AUGUSTA: I was supposed take something to Parliament. To persuade someone of something. Is there something else for me to sign, Jeff?

  JEFF: …

  BASRA: You need to relax, Grandma.

  AUGUSTA: Why do you all change the subject when I mention the treaty?

  JEFF: Because none of us agree with the damned thing.

  AUGUSTA: I want to argue in favour of something none of you agree with?

  BASRA: Pretty much.

  AUGUSTA: And by ‘none of us’, who do you mean?

  BASRA: No-one in this household. No-one with a right mind. No-one outside of big business and the fossil fuel industry.

  AUGUSTA: Even Olympia?

  BASRA: Oh, she doesn’t care.

  AUGUSTA: What’s it about? Fossil fuels?

  JEFF: A return to reliance on a finite, polluting resource. But really, none of it matters. The Earth is dying, the paradigm is collapsing and life as we know it is gonna end no matter what man does now. It’s too late. No treaty one way or the other is gonna save or prolong a goddamn thing.

  BASRA: That’s nihilistic.

  JEFF: It’s the truth.

  BASRA: I don’t believe there’s no hope.

  JEFF: Paradigm self-talk. Good luck with that.

  AUGUSTA: I don’t understand. Are we all going to die? Is there something you’re not telling me? A nuclear bomb? Terrorists …