BASRA: Grandma, why don’t you go back to bed?
AUGUSTA: I can’t sleep. The dreams …
BASRA: Or read.
AUGUSTA: Yes. I might do that. The orderly here just sold me a plot in his retirement village.
BASRA: He what?
JEFF: Our little joke.
AUGUSTA: He’s building some kind of dome in the desert.
JEFF: I was telling her about New Eden.
BASRA: I’ll bet.
AUGUSTA: He has my permission.
JEFF: A joke.
AUGUSTA: He says I’ll be safe. From terrorists. Am I going to a commune?
BASRA: No, Grandma.
AUGUSTA: Why not?
BASRA: Because you hate—
AUGUSTA: What? Hate what?
Pause.
Tell me. Please. I can’t remember.
BASRA: Never mind. You need to rest now.
AUGUSTA: Good.
Beat.
Ja, gut.
Beat.
BASRA: How much longer will you be here, Jeff?
JEFF: As soon as I’ve bought the land, we’ll leave.
BASRA: ‘We’?
JEFF: Well, you’re coming, aren’t you?
BASRA: That was before—
JEFF: And Miss Olympia. I’ll take Visi too.
AUGUSTA: The maid?
BASRA: Yes.
AUGUSTA: The sister of the terrorist?
BASRA: The accomplice, yes.
AUGUSTA: You know where she is? In prison?
BASRA exchanges a glance with JEFF.
BASRA: You could say she’s under house arrest.
AUGUSTA: But I’m alive. Did she commit a crime or not?
BASRA: It’s not black and white.
AUGUSTA: She’s either innocent or she isn’t.
Pause.
BASRA: She might be.
JEFF: I think she is.
AUGUSTA: Did I like her?
BASRA: I think so.
AUGUSTA: So, she’s probably innocent, we all liked her, and she’s in jail for killing someone who’s still alive?
Beat.
BASRA: She’s not in prison.
AUGUSTA: You just said she was under house arrest.
BASRA nods to JEFF. He exits.
BASRA: I wasn’t sure whether to tell you or not.
AUGUSTA: Tell me what?
BASRA: Whether it would upset you …
AUGUSTA: Basra dear, you’re really going to have to stop talking in riddles. I’m not a child. I’ve just survived a close-range bombing. I think I can withstand whatever truth it is you’re concealing from me—
VISI enters the room, followed silently by JEFF.
Well now.
Well now.
VISI: Hello.
AUGUSTA: Hello.
BASRA: Half the country’s looking for her.
JEFF: No hope of finding her though in this chaos. She’s escaped. To the wilds.
AUGUSTA: Has she?
BASRA: So what do you think?
AUGUSTA: Are you a hardened criminal?
VISI shrugs.
I think I was hardened too.
From all accounts.
I had a son.
Someone killed him.
A suicide bomber.
BASRA: That was twenty years ago, Grandma.
AUGUSTA: And then I became hard.
BASRA: You don’t like talking about it.
AUGUSTA: Talking about what?
BASRA: Daddy. The past.
AUGUSTA: All this hardening.
It has to stop.
And now I’d like to be alone, please.
Alone to watch the view.
JEFF, VISI and BASRA exit.
AUGUSTA watches the sunset—an intense flood of reds and oranges bathe her. She stares at it in wonder.
I had a son.
Oh, Duncan.
What have I become?
I’ve been wrong. About everything.
TRANSITION SEQUENCE:
MASKED FIGURE: The mayhem continues, people! We blow up one fascist, and another one takes their place. The whole system is infested with vested interests and they keep proliferating.
They’re signing over the deserts to developers. Quashing native title. Dispossessing the First Nations all over again. Signing the land over to foreign snake-oil investors. Some American whack job building a giant glass dome over half of the Northern Territory!
It’s just you and us and the whackos now, fighting over what’s left.
This is a battle for survival, people.
A battle over resources.
A battle over the scraps.
Rise up and take back what’s yours!
Rise up and—
Cut.
SCENE EIGHT
JEFF, VISI, OLYMPIA and BASRA are in the room together. JEFF is holding court. AUGUSTA is separate to the main group, gazing out the window.
JEFF: Here are the drawings! There will be towers that draw in humidity from the atmosphere and channel it back inside the dome through subterranean vectors. Channel it back as fresh water. The whole system is self-sustaining. We got the technology from Singapore. Oh, it’s so close now I can almost taste it!
And—you’ll like this, Visi—we’ve made arrangements with the First Nations people in the area. The ones whose land has been donated. We’ll provide sanctuary to any of them who donate their labour to aid in the construction.
VISI: You won’t pay them?
JEFF: We’re providing something more valuable than cash.
VISI: You’ve taken their land—
JEFF: Been given.
VISI: Taken their land and now you’re exploiting their labour? What was there in that arrangement that you thought I’d like?
JEFF: It’s bartering. An exchange economy. We’re stepping outside of the capitalist paradigm.
OLYMPIA: Is the amber concubine going to be there?
JEFF: There’ll be hundreds of amber concubines, Olympia.
BASRA: What do you mean—hundreds of concubines?
JEFF: It’s a new world we’re building.
BASRA: And is that what I am? And Visi too?
JEFF: Of course not. Well—not just that.
OLYMPIA: Where do I fit in?
JEFF: Wherever you like.
OLYMPIA: I don’t like the sound of that. This New Eden is beginning to sound degenerate.
JEFF: O brave new world—
BASRA/VISI: —that has such people in it.
Beat. They stare at each other. An accidental synergy.
JEFF: A brave new world. I’ll be Prospero and Visi here will be Miranda.
OLYMPIA: I thought I was Miranda.
JEFF: Oh, you’re my favourite wood nymph! You’re my Ariel!
OLYMPIA: The one who was stuck in a tree?
JEFF: We’re going to Eden, folks! It’s really happening!
OLYMPIA: Ariel. I don’t even think it was female.
JEFF: What do you think, Augusta? Will you come too?
Pause.
AUGUSTA: Yes.
BASRA: What?! Grandma, don’t be ridiculous.
AUGUSTA: I want to become a pioneer again. Like my ancestors.
JEFF: Happy day!
BASRA: Those are your organs speaking. They’re not your memories.
AUGUSTA: Nonsense. You can’t inherit memory.
BASRA: You’re not well.
AUGUSTA: I’m going to Eden.
BASRA: But you’d never—
AUGUSTA: The old Augusta would never. But the old Augusta is gone, Basra. She was blown up and good riddance to her. Build me a luxury suite, Jeff. With a view.
JEFF: I’ll build you anything you want! I’ll name half the colony after you!
OLYMPIA: Port Augusta!
JEFF: Mount Olympia!
OLYMPIA: Miranda! Miranda!
OLYMPIA/AUGUSTA: Where are you, Miranda?!
BASRA and VISI look on warily at the elders’ tea party. A dizzy dance.
OLYMPIA: Ring the alarum! Oh! It’s New Guinea. There’s a glacier melting.
JEFF: They have glaciers in New Guinea?
OLYMPIA: Not for much longer.
AUGUSTA: You can’t leave now, Olympia.
OLYMPIA: You’re right. I’m sick of glaciers melting. Besides—I just bought a kakapo. From New Zealand. I thought you might roast it, Visi.
BASRA: She’s not the cook anymore.
OLYMPIA: Stuff it with macadamias.
JEFF: Bring it to New Eden!
AUGUSTA: Bring two—a breeding pair!
OLYMPIA: We’ll eat all the endangered species back into existence.
JEFF: Dodos!
AUGUSTA: And thylacines!
JEFF: White tigers!
OLYMPIA: White rhinos!
AUGUSTA: And turquoise elephants!
OLYMPIA: All aboard!
AUGUSTA: All aboard!
JEFF/OLYMPIA/AUGUSTA: All aboard!
A dance macabre.
VISI: Stop!
Silence.
You’re all crazy!
A pause as everyone stops and stares at her.
Why are you doing this?
AUGUSTA: To set things straight.
VISI: What things? None of this makes sense. You: [OLYMPIA] Stop eating kakapo. Buy a fucking chicken. Eat Red Rooster. They cook it for you. Stop deluding yourself you’re a concubine. He just wants your money. He thinks you’ll be dead before you get there. You: [JEFF] Get on your jeep and go to your giant dome and jack yourself off in the wilderness. Stop pretending you’re God. You’re a fucking crackpot. You: [AUGUSTA] Stop pretending you see elephants on the street. There’s nothing there. You’re as crazy as he is. I liked you better when you were a right-wing bitch. At least then you were consistent. And you: [BASRA] Snap the fuck out of it. This man’s not saving humanity. He’s just keeping the bits of it he likes. ‘New Eden’? Yeah, right. The old one worked out so well! It’s a white man’s cock fantasy, Basra! Concubines and slaves. Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t know what the solutions to your problems are, but I can tell you one thing: this dick and his dome in the desert are not it.
Stunned silence. BASRA knows VISI is right.
JEFF: Well now. Thank you for sharing your opinions with us, Visi. We appreciate your honesty.
OLYMPIA: Do you really want me to drop dead, Jeff?
JEFF: Of course not.
OLYMPIA: I don’t know if I can come along if that’s the case. I might have to go to New Guinea instead.
VISI: Are you listening to this, Basra? They’re all deluded.
AUGUSTA: The elephants aren’t delusions, Visi. They’re real. I’ve seen them with my own eyes.
OLYMPIA: I’ve seen them too.
VISI: Basra?
OLYMPIA: What do they mean?
JEFF: That the paradigm is coming to a close. It’s ending. The ark is about to set sail!
VISI: You can’t sail an ark into the fucking desert, Jeff!
AUGUSTA: I need to speak to Parliament. I need to set things right.
BASRA: Grandma, you can’t.
AUGUSTA: I can. And I will. I’ve made up my mind. I need to tell the world about the elephants.
VISI: [to BASRA] This is a lunatic asylum. You need to get out.
SCENE NINE
AUGUSTA is stripped bare of bandages. She is in parliament. The sounds of ayes and nays and hear-hears rise and subside. She approaches a podium, a walking stick propping her up.
AUGUSTA: Members of Parliament, Prime Minister. I thank you for allowing me to petition you on behalf of the delegates that I represent. I nearly didn’t make it. A bit of trouble with the hired help.
Cheers and laughter.
Every nation on every continent has been dramatically affected by what we’ve called Climate Change. That is not under dispute. Some nations have learned to adapt to changing conditions. Indeed, some have flourished. Others have perished and ceased to exist. It is a chaotic and alarming time. A time for urgency and quick thinking. And a time for far-reaching vision because Lord knows it is a time of far-reaching consequences.
Hear-hear!
You all know what I stand for. You know what I am going to say.
Pause.
Or so you think.
I have had a change of heart.
Quite literally.
Someone else’s heart. Someone else’s liver and lungs, someone else’s kidneys—someone else has donated a life in order for an old woman to survive on a planet that she will surely not live to see survive beyond another decade or two.
But you all have to live with it for the rest of your lives. As do your descendants.
Mixed murmurings of assent and dissent—consternation perhaps.
I have had a change of heart and a change of mind.
For I have seen the turquoise elephant roaming our streets.
The hubbub and murmurings have died down now and there is absolute silence.
The elephant has arrived in the room.
It’s here.
It’s here.
Can you see it?
Beautiful.
Those eyes. Mournful. Pleading. Expressive. ‘Help me,’ its eyes say, ‘I am the first and last of my kind. I am unique.’
Becoming disoriented. The elephant retreats.
Don’t go!
There was a constant syllabub that rose above the bowl’s meniscus. A rosewater syllabub more constant than any Eton’s mess. An Eton’s mess, an evening dress, a hubbub and a fizzwhiz. A whirligig.
The cabriolet was lagan on the klep is shmorg to flapencroft. Kapakapa weewak. A fizzibub … a fizzy fizz … a fizzer … fizza fizza …
She collapses. Sirens. Darkness.
TRANSITION SEQUENCE:
MASKED FIGURE: [deranged now, unhinged] Hate to crash the party, people. Sorry to cut the doomsday prognostications short.
But look at the weather charts.
There are superstorm cells building along the entire of the east coast. Moving down, port by port.
Swimming pools tumbling off cliffs and into the surf.
Things are about to get dark.
Very dark.
Take advantage of the mayhem!
Now is the time to strike!
Before Parliament gets a chance to vote.
Every power station in the country.
Every symbol of power and decadence.
All at once.
Every member of The Front.
Donating.
Everything.
At once.
Here’s a little taste of what’s to come.
We see the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
Sssshhh.
Pay attention.
Hold your breath.
Suddenly the bridge explodes in an orange fireball.
We call this installation ‘Bridge Over Troubled Waters’.
Sayonara, sleepers.
Over and out.
SCENE TEN
BASRA, JEFF and OLYMPIA are in the living room.
JEFF: I’ve bought a jeep and enough gas to get us to Timbuktu. We’ll be New Eden’s first pilgrims.
BASRA: What—and sleep alone together under the stars while the dome magically materialises around us? While your black slaves fan us and feed us by hand?
JEFF: The pilgrims are descending. We have a green light on this. I’m offering you a ticket out of here.
BASRA: I don’t think so, Jeff.
JEFF: You’ve got less than ten minutes to decide, Basra. Choose life over death. Come with us and start a new world. This one is about to fall apart. It’s the end.
BASRA: I don’t believe that.
JEFF: It’s the end of everything you know to be real and safe.
BASRA: I can’t just run away and hide.
JEFF: What’s the alternative?
BASRA: To fight. To overturn the bill. To—
JEFF: What? To build solar panels. Recycle? Plant a few
more trees? Blog about it?
OLYMPIA: I might go to New Guinea after all.
BASRA: It’s better than running.
OLYMPIA: You wouldn’t miss me, would you?
JEFF: The machine is shutting down.
Beat.
There’s nothing here for you.
Who are you staying for?
The ghost who walks here will be dead any tick of the clock.
BASRA: Jeff!
JEFF: Oh, she can’t hear me. And your grandmother has just been exposed on global television as a gabbling crackpot. ‘Fizzy whizz! Fizz bang!’ What the fuck? Come on! She’ll never work again. She’s done. She’ll be asked to step down by the end of the week.
BASRA does not respond.
Look, I won’t lie to you. You can stay here and die along with everyone else. But there’s a hell of a lot you can do for humanity at New Eden with ten billion bucks. Come with me, Basra. Come and be part of the one per cent.
BASRA/OLYMPIA: Visi was right.
BASRA: You’re a fraud.
OLYMPIA: The ghost who walks is switching you off.
OLYMPIA flicks a switch on her cochlear and retreats to her inner world.
The door blasts open—the gales we saw billowing earlier announce the entrance of a refreshed-looking AUGUSTA.
AUGUSTA: It was an air bubble!
Beat.
In my brain. It was air bubbles all along.
BASRA: What are you talking about?
AUGUSTA: Air bubbles in the bloodstream. After a major operation. Perfectly normal. They short-circuit the neural transmitters. I was seeing things that weren’t there. And then when I was giving the speech to Parliament. Perhaps it was the strain of the occasion. My blood pressure higher than normal. But one of them popped. Inside my brain. That’s what caused the spiels of drivel. The hallucination. And now it’s out. The oxygen. Exhumed. Expunged! I’m back to normal. Everything back to normal. Isn’t that just marvellous?
Beat.
Something smells.
OLYMPIA: That’s last night’s dinner.
AUGUSTA: Like old prawns.
OLYMPIA: Yes. We had Patagonian toothfish.
Follows her nose.
AUGUSTA: Not that. It’s not coming from the kitchen. It’s …
She’s arrived at JEFF.
Oh. Who are you?
JEFF: Why, I’m Jeff Cleveland. You don’t remember me?
AUGUSTA: You smell dreadful. Hasn’t anyone shown you the shower?
JEFF: I told you. I choose not to bathe in artificial or treated water, Mrs Macquarie.
The Turquoise Elephant Page 6