Mr Takahashi

by Sandra Thibodeaux

  CONCEPTUA: We’ll have a storm by three.

  DOLORES: Where are the girls?

  CONCEPTUA: Down in the mangroves.

  DOLORES: Call them in … That’s the wind that comes before the storm.

  Thunder rolls, lights fade.

  A plane approaches as the CHORUS skips, singing:

  CHORUS: [singing/chanting] June, July, August, September, October, November.

  The thunderous plane suddenly cuts.

  [Newsreel-style] Citizens of Darwin … The Federal War Cabinet has ruled women and children must be compulsorily—

  DOLORES: Compulsorily?

  CHORUS: —evacuated by ship as soon as possible except those in essential services.

  BETTY: I’m essential!

  CONCEPTUA: Betty’s essential.

  DOLORES: Her mother’s ‘licentious’.

  JOAN: And that’s damned ‘libellous’.

  Beat.

  I’m not leaving my baby here.

  CONCEPTUA: Joan has ‘war duties’ now, Mother.

  DOLORES: Hmph—entertaining soldiers?

  CONCEPTUA: No—her showgirl days are over.

  DOLORES: Along with her reputation.

  ROSE: Hey, Canberra—evacuate this!

  She makes a rude gesture with her rolled-up paper.

  CONCEPTUA: Now, Rose, if you can’t say anything nice …

  DOLORES: Besides, the shop is essential. She can stay and suffer with the rest.

  CONCEPTUA: But, Mother—there’s Lily to consider … It’s hardly a place for young girls.

  GRACE: Missus, I wanna go?!

  AGNES: We’re essential, girl.

  GRACE: But the Japs are coming!

  RUBY: Your fundraising dance—essential.

  AGNES: Essential! The Red Cross need a new wireless.

  GRACE: Everyone else is going!

  AGNES: Well, the captain … goes down with the ship. We shall stay with our subjects and keep them / safe.

  RUBY: Dancing.

  They look at each other.

  CHORUS: Citizens greatly assist by cheerfully complying.

  Lights up on the Chins’ shop. ROSE and LILY are glumly considering options with a newspaper nearby.

  LILY: We’ve only just fixed up the shop …

  ROSE: I’m not going anywhere.

  LILY: Hey?

  ROSE: You can go if you like. Go …

  LILY sighs.

  Mum worked her guts out all those years—the only Chinese in the street. No-one would buy from us! But she won that war. And no idiot soldier’s gonna wreck this place again.

  LILY: But you’re not invincible.

  ROSE: You go if you like. [Softer] Maybe you should go.

  Pause.

  I’m gonna start the trench …

  She goes to the door.

  LILY: Somebody nicked our shovel.

  ROSE: Mongrels!

  LILY: There’s lots for sale but.

  ROSE: Probably ours!

  LILY passes the newspaper to ROSE as we hear agitated music.

  [Rhythmically] ‘For sale: double bedroom suite, dining table, ice chest, six good chairs and three shovels.’

  LILY: Yes! ‘Gramophone, fowl house, thirty-five young chickens, all good condition.’

  ROSE: Chickens?!

  A dog howls.

  Perfect fertiliser.

  ALL: [singing/chanting] ‘Thirty-five young chickens, all good condition—’

  GRACE: ‘Pictures and a wireless!’

  AGNES: Well spotted, Grace! We’ll buy it, eh? ‘Wireless, gents’ lowboy—’

  ALL: [singing/chanting] ‘Thirty-five young chickens, all good condition—’

  AGNES: ‘Crockery, piano!’

  GRACE: Piano!

  Beat.

  AGNES: If you’re a good girl … I might go get it for you.

  DOLORES: Half the town are selling up:

  CONCEPTUA: ‘A seagrass table, hall clock—’

  ALL: [singing/chanting] ‘Thirty-five young chickens, all good condition—’

  DOLORES: ‘A baby’s bassinet—’

  BETTY: And look, Mum: ‘A Hawaiian steel guitar!’ Dad would love it!

  The music stops.

  JOAN: Oh, dear … there’s a Kodak Retina camera and enlarger for sale …

  A ship’s horn blows.

  CHORUS: There will be hardship and sacrifice.

  CONCEPTUA: Personal effects must not exceed thirty-five pounds.

  DOLORES: Cheerfulness extra …

  Lights up on KRISTINA, who is packing and very upset.

  KRISTINA: I don’t even know where we’re going?! What should I pack?!

  DOLORES: Thirty-five pounds.

  CONCEPTUA: Only your precious things, dear … and a warm jumper.

  KRISTINA: Where we going?

  CONCEPTUA: Somewhere safe.

  DOLORES: But probably cold.

  KRISTINA: Are we gonna come back?

  CONCEPTUA: Of course you’ll come back.

  KRISTINA: How long will it be?

  DOLORES: Silence! You’re dragging those heels …

  CONCEPTUA: Put a smile on that lovely face.

  DOLORES: You’ll trip on that bottom lip!

  KRISTINA: Stop being mean!

  Beat.

  Maggie’s coming home today …?

  DOLORES: Maggie?!

  Pause.

  CHORUS: Takahashi?!

  Pause.

  DOLORES: Your port, girl?

  KRISTINA opens her case.

  CONCEPTUA: They won’t let you take all of that, dear.

  CONCEPTUA pulls out several things and then closes it firmly. KRISTINA takes the port and leaves, bottom lip protesting.

  A ship’s horn booms.

  MAGGIE enters, also holding a small case.

  CHORUS: Women and children, this way. Japanese down below. Japanese? Down below.

  CONCEPTUA: She’s just a girl.

  DOLORES: Maggie Takahashi? Her name’s on the list.

  MAGGIE: Excuse me—I think there’s been a mistake. I’m Australian.

  Beat.

  My mum’s Catholic, you know. We’ve lived in Darwin for years! I go to St Maria Goretti in Brisbane. You ask the teachers—they’ll tell you. I’m not Japanese!

  CHORUS: [slowly] Chinese, Japanese, who are these—they’re internees.

  Pause.

  Dirty internees.

  The ship horn booms, fading into the distance. Lights crossfade to Government House.

  AGNES is dressed in a slip, examining her wardrobe. RUBY enters.

  AGNES: I think I’ll wear the purple one.

  RUBY: Purple?

  AGNES: You don’t think so?

  RUBY: I don’t know, madame … With your orange hair?

  AGNES: Strawberry blonde!

  RUBY: Sorry—strawberry.

  AGNES: Blonde.

  Beat.

  Well, what do you suggest?

  RUBY selects a frock.

  RUBY: This black one.

  AGNES: Do you think?

  RUBY pulls out the pieces as she speaks.

  RUBY: Jade necklace … green gloves and shoes.

  AGNES: Oh.

  RUBY: To calm down that orange strawberry.

  AGNES looks sharply at her, drops it.

  AGNES: It’s a tad fancy for war time?

  RUBY: We need flash clothes to cheer us up! We need your example, madame.

  AGNES: That’s a point. We don’t want people losing morale.

  RUBY starts dressing her.

  RUBY: I might … like to go to that dance one time.

  AGNES: Oh, yes.

  RUBY: Must be swish, eh? All them beautiful dresses.

  AGNES: Well … they all try, you know—but no-one can match your style!

  RUBY: Can’t be, madame.

  AGNES: As God is my witness!

  Pause.

  Any sign of Mr Lamb yet?

  RUBY: Sorry—he said he’ll meet you there.

 
AGNES: What?!

  RUBY: He had a meeting—Air Raid Precautions?

  AGNES: ARP? He knew it was my fundraiser?!

  RUBY: [shaking her head] Men, hey … He should move that air raid.

  AGNES: I’ve been planning this for months!

  RUBY: Months, madame. I’ll tell the driver to go and get him.

  AGNES: Thank you, Ruby. At least, I can rely on you …

  RUBY: You don’t worry about a thing, madame. [Shaking her head as she leaves] ARP …

  Planes murmur gently in the distance as lights crossfade to DOLORES and CONCEPTUA.

  DOLORES: Fires will be started—

  CONCEPTUA: And explosives set off around town.

  CHORUS: [newsreel-style] During these tests, for your own protection, blackout and retire to your trenches.

  CONCEPTUA: Rose has joined the ARP—

  DOLORES: ‘Asian Liaison’.

  CONCEPTUA: She’s inspecting all of the shops—

  DOLORES: Starting with Yam Yan’s.

  The air-raid siren sounds. ROSE barks instructions over the noise.

  ROSE: Where are your buckets, Charles? Two sand, two water; back door, front door. Move it, soldier.

  The lights flicker, then go dim.

  Call that a blackout, Charles? You’d be dead by now.

  The lights flicker, go bright.

  You’ve been randomly selected for an explosives test. We’ll be dropping one on you tonight. Do make sure you’re at home.

  The siren winds down.

  CONCEPTUA: She’s taking it too far.

  DOLORES: Put a uniform on someone … Here she goes with her ‘grenades’ …

  LILY and ROSE are practising with jam tins.

  ROSE: Lily, you’re not playing cricket. Underarm, dingbat!

  LILY: Like this?

  ROSE: Yeah. Go for Charles’s arse.

  She lobs it.

  CHORUS: Ow!

  ROSE: [calling out] ARP test. As you were, soldier … [To LILY] Easy mistake—hard to tell his face from his arse, eh?! Come on—let’s make some more.

  They start to exit. A plane is heard swooping down. The GIRLS stop still and watch it, squinting.

  Elsewhere, RUBY also stops. Watches, squinting.

  The plane passes. They all retreat indoors.

  RUBY enters the maids’ quarters, excitedly. She closes the door firmly behind her.

  RUBY: Alright, Grace—she’s gone.

  She strips to her underwear, dons a gorgeous red frock.

  GRACE: They’re not gonna let you in, you know?

  RUBY: I’ve got my exemption … and a soldier. You should see him, Grace. Lovely!

  GRACE: What if they ask you to leave?

  RUBY: They won’t.

  GRACE: But it’s Mrs Lamb’s fundraiser. She’ll get wild!

  RUBY: She says I’ve got style. She reckoned I’m better than all that mob. How do I look?

  GRACE: You look flash, but, Rube—

  RUBY: Uh!

  She sashays through the room like a model.

  I’ve got my Wizard of Oz shoes!

  GRACE: Shiny ones, sis.

  RUBY: Who do I look like?

  She adopts a dramatic pose.

  GRACE: Judy Garland?

  RUBY: She’s just a kid! Scar-scar-scar—

  GRACE: Scarecrow?

  RUBY glares.

  Scarlett O’Hara!

  RUBY blows a kiss.

  RUBY: [in Scarlett accent] I’ll be back at dawn, most prob’ly …

  RUBY turns to go.

  GRACE: Ruby, have you gone silly? You’ll get into trouble!

  RUBY halts at the doorway.

  RUBY: [as Rhett] Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn …

  She sweeps out, leaving GRACE giddy at the whole idea. Lights flicker and waver, then crossfade to DOLORES and CONCEPTUA.

  DOLORES: The horizon isn’t constant, you know. If you look very closely, there’s always a wave.

  CONCEPTUA: Mother?

  DOLORES: There.

  CONCEPTUA: That’s not a wave—it’s a ship.

  DOLORES: It’s a wave not returned.

  CONCEPTUA: It’s bearing the women to safety.

  DOLORES: Spewing them to the end.

  During the following, the GIRLS vomit intermittently.

  GIRLS: Bully beef, dog biscuits, brackish water, churning seas.

  GIRL: Where all the kids going, Sister?

  CONCEPTUA: Brisbane.

  GIRLS: How come we never go on that ship?

  CONCEPTUA: It’s not your turn yet.

  GIRL: When’s our turn?

  CONCEPTUA: Soon as they’re ready.

  DOLORES: Soon as the birds fall from the sky.

  GIRL: They’ve got good swings in Brisbane!

  DOLORES: [drily] Yes—they’re making a slippery dip for you.

  GIRL: Goody!

  DOLORES: And putting in a pool.

  CONCEPTUA: Stop it, Mother.

  DOLORES: If we fell off the face of the earth, I doubt they’d even notice …

  A baby wails. Lights up on KRISTINA.

  CONCEPTUA: Look, there’s Kristina. That ship hasn’t seen a mop and a broom in years!

  DOLORES: It’s overcrowded …

  KRISTINA: Must be a thousand people!

  CONCEPTUA: [to DOLORES] Too many. Do they have enough lifeboats? They look like chickens in a coop!

  DOLORES: They look like bait.

  Beat.

  KRISTINA: The cabins are stuffy. And you’re not allowed to turn on the light!

  CONCEPTUA: [to DOLORES] It’s as dark as Davey Jones’s locker.

  DOLORES: Not quite—Mr Jones will be found down below with the internees.

  Light on MAGGIE.

  See? There’s Maggie. Locked in the hold …

  CONCEPTUA: Someone should get her out! She’s not Japanese!

  GIRLS: [slowly] Chinese, Japanese, who are these? Japanese?

  Internees.

  Pause.

  Poor internees.

  DOLORES: Birds are not nice. I watched two birds abandon a third. She was clearly struggling against the storm. What if she fell?

  CONCEPTUA: Birds don’t fall, Mother.

  DOLORES considers.

  DOLORES: I think it depends on the storm.

  Lights brighten to reveal the deck.

  CONCEPTUA: Once a day, they’re released.

  GIRLS: Exercise. One, two, one, two.

  CONCEPTUA: In the blinding sun and the heat—

  DOLORES: The hostility …

  The CHORUS call ‘Nip, Nip, Nip, Nip …’ and random taunts such as ‘Slanty eyes’, ‘Dirty Jap’, etc. as MAGGIE walks past, trying to ignore them.

  KRISTINA watches from a distance. MAGGIE spots her and dashes over.

  MAGGIE: Kristina!

  KRISTINA turns away.

  KRISTINA: I can’t talk.

  MAGGIE: How come?

  KRISTINA: You’re an internee.

  MAGGIE: But you know I’m not Japanese?!

  KRISTINA: [shrugging] I don’t know. Go away.

  MAGGIE: Tina!

  KRISTINA: Your name’s Japanese … And you look Japanese, really.

  MAGGIE: But I thought we were sisters—blood sisters!

  KRISTINA: I didn’t know you were Japanese back then.

  MAGGIE: ’Cause I wasn’t!

  KRISTINA: What were you then?

  MAGGIE: Australian!

  KRISTINA: That’s what you told me! But you keep on changing sides!

  Beat.

  I know about your father.

  MAGGIE: What?

  KRISTINA: He’s a spy.

  MAGGIE: No, he’s not!

  KRISTINA: He’s got that picture?

  MAGGIE: What picture?

  KRISTINA: Those Japs burying people alive. I saw it.

  MAGGIE: [unsure] Maybe he wanted to keep it for … history or something.

  KRISTINA: [growing surer] He was signalling with those mirrors.

&nb
sp; MAGGIE: The reflectors?! They light the photographs—your photograph, remember?

  Pause.

  KRISTINA: [ashamed] My mum sent me there …

  MAGGIE: To stickybeak? My best friend!

  KRISTINA: He was putting us in danger!

  MAGGIE: He’s not a spy—you’re the dirty spy!

  KRISTINA: You never saw him! You ran off to Brisbane. And look at you, Maggie—you’ve changed!

  KRISTINA runs away.

  A distant air-raid siren. Dim lights on Government House. RUBY wanders into the girls’ room, her red dress looking rumpled. She drops her shoes on the floor.

  GRACE: Ruby …?

  RUBY doesn’t talk, just sits and stares.

  How was … the dance?

  RUBY nods for a while, then shrugs.

  RUBY: Alright.

  Beat.

  Can you go?

  GRACE leaves, fearfully. Then RUBY starts to groan. The groan gets louder as she throws her shoes across the room. She picks up one thing and another—throwing, tearing, smashing, and so on. She overturns chairs, rips the drawer out of the dressing table and hurls the make-up jars against the wall. After everything is ruined, she stands there, heaving. GRACE creeps back in and watches.

  GRACE: What happened, sis’?

  RUBY comes to. She packs a few things into a case.

  Where you goin’?

  RUBY doesn’t answer, goes to the door.

  Don’t leave! Don’t worry about her, Rube. She probably don’t mean it!

  RUBY: In front of everybody, Grace—all them high nobs! Didn’t have the guts to do it herself! She told the sergeant. He took me out. I wished I could die!

  GRACE: Please don’t go—we’ll fix it up tomorrow.

  RUBY: I don’t need to fix it! They can all go to hell! They want us to clean their mess and wash their stinking clothes but they don’t want us! They wish we’d all disappear …

  She walks into the darkness.

  * A derogatory term for someone from the bush who’s not familiar with town ways.

  END OF ACT ONE

  ACT TWO

  Scene One

  Darwin, December 25, 1941.

  The GIRLS sing a delicate rendition of ‘Away in a Manger’. (The children take breaths randomly as marked by the dashes.)

  GIRLS: [singing] Away in–a manger–no crib–for–a bed–

  The li–ttle Lord Je–sus lay down–his sweet–head …

  The GIRLS continue singing under the following dialogue:

  CONCEPTUA: Delightful, aren’t they?

  Beat.

  DOLORES: They’re not breathing properly.

  CONCEPTUA: Mother?

  DOLORES: It’s the consumption. They weren’t tested.

  She whacks a GIRL. The singing stops.