TUPOLSKI. Well, I respect that you respect that. Ah, aren't we all cosy? It's almost a shame I have to shoot you in the head in twenty minutes. (Tupolski smiles. Katurian thinks about his death for the first time in a while.)
KATURIAN. Mm. (Tupolski stops smiling. Pause.)
TUPOLSKI. No, I ... Some of your stories are very good too. I did like some of them.
KATURIAN. Which ones?
TUPOLSKI. (Pause.) There was something about "The Pillowman" that stayed with me. There was something gentle about it. (Pause.) And the idea of, if a child died, alone, through some accident, he wasn't really alone. He had this kind, soft person with him, to hold his hand and whatnot. And that it was the child's choice, somehow. Made it somewhat, reassuring, somehow. That it wasn't just a stupid waste.
KATURIAN. (Nods. Pause.) Did you lose a child?
TUPOLSKI. (Pause.) Unlike old Ariel, I don't go into those sorts of things with the condemned. (Katurian nods. Sad pause.) Son drowned. (Pause.) Fishing on his own. (Pause.) Silly. (Katurian nods. Tupolski puts the battery back into the cabinet.)
KATURIAN. What happens from here on in?
TUPOLSKI. We get the word back about the mute girl ... (Tupolski takes a black hood out of the cabinet, shows it daintily to Katurian, back and front.) ... we put this hood over your head, we take you to the room next door, we shoot you through the head. (Pause.) Is that right? No. We take you to the room next door, then we put the hood on you, then we shoot you through the head. If we put the hood on you before we take you to the room next door, y'know, you might bump into something, hurt yourself.
KATURIAN. Why the room next door? Why not here?
TUPOLSKI. The room next door, it's easier to mop up.
KATURIAN. (Pause.) Do you do it out of the blue, like, just out of the blue, or do you give me a minute to say a prayer or something?
TUPOLSKI. Well, first I sing a song about a little pony and then Ariel takes out his hedgehog. Y'know, his execution hedgehog? And when the hedgehogs out, well, you've got either thirteen or twenty-seven seconds left, depending on the size of the hedgehog. (Pause.) If I'm gonna do it out of the blue, I'm not gonna tell you I'm gonna do it out of the blue, am I?! Jesus! For a supposed genius writer-stroke-psycho-killer, you're a bit fucking thick! (Pause.) From when the hood goes on you've got about ten seconds. So, y'know, keep the Latin chants to a minimum.
KATURIAN. Thank you.
TUPOLSKI. You're welcome. (Tupolski tosses the hood on the table in front of Katurian. Pause.)
KATURIAN. No, I just want to think a few thoughts for my brother.
TUPOLSKI. Uh-huh? For your brother, yeah? Not for the three little kids you murdered, but for your brother.
KATURIAN. That's right. Not for the three little kids that I murdered, but for my brother. (Door opens, Ariel enters, dumbstruck, blank-faced. He slowly moves towards Katurian.)
TUPOLSKI. Have they found her? (Ariel reaches Katurian, who is getting scared. Ariel places a hand on Katurian's head and, clutching his hair, tilts Katurian's head back, gently, staring down at him.)
ARIEL. (Quietly.) What the hell is the matter with you? Exactly what the hell is the matter with you? (Katurian can't answer. Ariel gently releases him and slowly goes back to the door.)
TUPOLSKI. Ariel?
ARIEL Mm?
TUPOLSKI. Have they found her?
ARIEL. Yes, they found her.
TUPOLSKI. And she was dead, right? (Ariel is at the door.)
ARIEL. No. (Katurian puts his head in his bands in horror.)
TUPOLSKI. She was still alive? (Ariel beckons to someone at the doorway. A mute girl of about eight, her face, hair, clothes, shoes painted totally bright green, enters, smiling happily. She says hello to the two men in sign language.)
ARIEL. They found her down there by the wishing well, in a little Wendy house there. She had three little piglets with her. She had plenty of food and water. So did the piglets, in fact. She seems quite happy about it all, don't you, Maria? (Ariel signs, "Are you happy?" to her. Smiling, she signs back at some length.) She says yes, she is quite happy but can she keep the piglets? (Pause.) I said I'd ask you. (Tupolski just stares at them both, stunned Pause.) I said I'd ask you about the piglets.
TUPOLSKI. What? Oh. Yes, she can keep the piglets. (Ariel gives her the thumbs-up. She starts leaping about, squealing in delight. Katurian smiles slightly.)
ARIEL. Yes, yes, but let's get you cleaned up first and get you to your mummy and daddy. They've been worried about you. (Ariel takes her hand, she waves goodbye to everyone happily and he leads her out of the door. Tupolski and Katurian's faces slowly turn from the door and to each other. After a second, Ariel slowly re-enters, closing the door behind him.) They found a big pot of green paint down there with her, you know that kind of glow-in-the-dark paint they have in railway tunnels? So, plenty of prints if we need them. And they found the skeletons of the parents just where he said, by the wishing well. So. He confesses to the murder of two people we knew nothing about, and he confesses to the murder of a girl who wasn't actually murdered.
TUPOLSKI. Why?
ARIEL. Why? You're asking me why?
TUPOLSKI. Yes, I am.
ARIEL. Uh-huh? Well, Tupolski, you know what? You're the Number One, you fucking figure it out.
TUPOLSKI. I'll have no more insubordination from you today, Ariel.
ARIEL. Er, yes, you will.
TUPOLSKI. In which case, you're on report to the Commandant as of now.
ARIEL You don't seem very happy that the little girl's still alive! Even this bloke seems happy that the little girl's still alive! You just seem upset he's fucked up your paperwork! (Tupolski fishes through the stories to find a particular one.)
TUPOLSKI. Obviously the girl was painted green and put with the piglets in order to act out ...
ARIEL. To act out "The Little Green Pig" story. Brilliant, Tupolski. You must've got that from the green paint and the piglets. The question is, why? Why didn't they kill her too? And why did he say he did?
TUPOLSKI. Shh, I'm reading through the story, and see if there are any clues.
ARIEL. (Laughs.) We could just ask him!
TUPOLSKI. I'm reading through this, I said!
ARIEL. (To Katurian.) Can you fill us in on why the mute girl's still alive?
KATURIAN. (Pause.) No. No, I can't. But I'm glad she is, though. I'm glad she is.
ARIEL. I believe you're glad she is. I believe you're glad she is. I believe you're gladder she is than he fucking is. I will ask you another question, based on a little hunch I've just got, 'cos I'm getting hunches now, too. I think Mr. Tupolski's fucking detective prowess is rubbing off on me. The little Jewish boy whose toes you cut off and let bleed to death. What colour was his hair?
KATURIAN. What?
ARIEL. What colour was his hair?
KATURIAN. Browny-black. It was a browny-black sort of colour.
ARIEL. "It was a browny-black sort of colour." Pretty good. Considering he was a little Jew boy, "It was a browny-black sort of colour." Pretty good. It's a shame his mum was fucking Irish, and her son closely resembled a red fucking setter. Do you want some questions about the girl on the heath?
KATURIAN. No.
ARIEL. No. Because you didn't kill either of those two children, did you?
KATURIAN. No.
ARIEL. You never even saw those two children, did you?
KATURIAN. No.
ARIEL. Did you tell your brother to kill them?
KATURIAN. I never knew anything about any of this until today.
ARIEL. Did your brother kill your parents, also?
KATURIAN. I killed my parents.
ARIEL. The only killing we can definitely pin on you is the killing of your brother. In light of the extenuating circumstances, I doubt it highly that you would be executed for it. I would therefore think very carefully before admitting to the killing of ...
KATURIAN. I killed my parents. (Pause.) I killed my parents.
ARIEL. I believe you did. (Pause.) But you didn't kill any children, did you? (Katurian shakes his lowered head.) Your witness, Tupolski. (Ariel lights a cigarette. Tupolski, having regained his composure somewhat, sits back down.)
TUPOLSKI. Very good work, Ariel.
ARIEL. Thank you, Tupolski.
TUPOLSKI. And, by the way, I was happy that the little girl was still alive. I was just trying not to let my true emotions come out at work, that's all.
ARIEL Oh, I see ...
TUPOLSKI. You see? (Pause.) Hmm. So, um, just out of my own personal curiosity, just before we execute you for these three other murders, why did you confess to killing the children, Mr. Katurian?
KATURIAN. You had me for killing Michal. As soon as you found the third child you'd have me for killing my parents. I thought that if I tied myself into all of it, like you wanted me to, at least I'd be able to save my stories. At least I'd have that. (Pause.) At least I'd have that.
TUPOLSKI. Hmm. That's a shame then, isn't it?
KATURIAN. What's a shame?
TUPOLSKI. Our saving your stories was based on you confessing truthfully as regards the whole of this sorry business. Evidently from what you're saying now about not having killed the other two children and evidently from all the green fucking paint that's been traipsed all over my fucking floor, your confession wasn't completely truthful, was it? And so, obviously, if your confession wasn't completely truthful, your stories fucking burn. (Tupolski gets the bin, pours lighter fuel in, gets matches.)
KATURIAN. You're not being serious.
TUPOLSKI. There's your hood. Put it on, please. I'm trying to get a fire started.
KATURIAN. Ariel, please...?
TUPOLSKI. Ariel? Is it true that, as honourable men, we promised not to burn his stories if he made a truthful confession?
ARIEL. Ah Jesus, Tupolski ...
TUPOLSKI. Is it true, yes or no, that we promised not to burn his stories if he made a truthful confession?
ARIEL. Yes. It's true.
TUPOLSKI. And did he confess to killing a Jew boy he didn't kill?
ARIEL Yes, he did.
TUPOLSKI. And did he confess to killing a girl with razor blades he also didn't kill?
ARIEL. Yes, he did.
TUPOLSKI. And did he confess to killing that irritating green kid who isn't even fucking dead?
ARIEL. Yes, he did confess to it.
TUPOLSKI. Are we not, then, within our rights, as honourable men, to burn all of Mr. Katurians work?
KATURIAN. Ariel ...
ARIEL. (Sadly.) We are within our rights.
TUPOLSKI. We are within our rights. So, we've got about four hundred stories here, and if we round up those few copies of The Libertad he had a story in, that'll be his whole life's work, tight? That'll be his whole life's work. (Tupolski weighs the stories in his hands.) Doesn't add up to much. Should I put some lighter fuel on his stories too, or is that a bit dangerous? I'm worried I might singe myself.
KATURIAN. Ariel, please...
TUPOLSKI. Put the hood on, I said. (Tupolski lights the fire in the bin, still holding the stories.)
KATURIAN. Ariel!
TUPOLSKI. (Pause.) Ariel?
ARIEL. (Pause.) I know all this isn't your fault. I know you didn't kill the children. I know you didn't want to kill your brother, and I know you killed your parents for all the right reasons, and I'm sorry for you, I'm really sorry for you, and I've never said that to anybody in custody before. But at the end of the day, I never liked your stories in the first fucking place. Y'know? (Ariel takes the stories from Tupolski.) You'd better put the hood on. (Katurian goes to put the hood on, then stops.)
KATURIAN. I thought you were supposed to take me next door first and I put it on in there?
TUPOLSKI. No, no, we shoot you in here. I was just mucking around. Just kneel down over there somewhere, so you don't splash me.
KATURIAN. But will you give me ten seconds from when the hood goes on, or were you mucking around then too?
TUPOLSKI. Errm ...
ARIEL. We'll give you ten seconds ...
TUPOLSKI. We'll give you ten seconds, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. (Katurian kneels on the floor. Tupolski takes out his gun and cocks it. Katurian stares sadly at Ariel.)
KATURIAN. I was a good writer. (Pause.) It was all I ever wanted to be. (Pause.) And I was. And I was.
TUPOLSKI. "Was" being the operative word.
KATURIAN. (Pause.) Yes. "Was" being the operative word. (Katurian pulls the hood on. Tupolski takes aim.)
TUPOLSKI. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four ... (Tupolski shoots Katurian in the head. He drops to the floor, dead, blood slowly seeping from the hood.)
ARIEL. Oh what did you do that for?
TUPOLSKI. What did I do what for?
ARIEL. You said you'd give him ten. That wasn't very nice.
TUPOLSKI. Ariel, what exactly is nice about shooting a man on his knees with a bag on his head?
ARIEL. Even so.
TUPOLSKI. Listen, I've had enough whingeing out of you for one day. What's the matter with you? We've cleared up the case, haven't we, whichever way you look at it? Well, haven't we?
ARIEL. I suppose.
TUPOLSKI. That's all the more sweets for you when you're seventy, isn't it? (Ariel sighs.) Listen, get the paperwork finished, get this room cleaned up and get those stories burned. Okay? I'd better speak to that mute kid's parents, warn them about the piglets. (Tupolski exits. Ariel adds a little more lighter fuel to the fire, then looks at the sheaf of stories in his bands. The dead Katurian slowly gets to his feet, takes the hood off to reveal his bloody, bullet-shattered head, observes Ariel at the table, and speaks.)
KATURIAN. In the seven and three-quarter seconds he was given before he died, Katurian Katurian tried to think up a final story in lieu of a prayer for his brother. What he came up with was more of a footnote to a story, and the footnote was this ... (Michal is revealed leaning in the doorway in low light.) A happy, healthy little boy named Michal Katurian, on the eve of the night that his parents were to start torturing him for seven consecutive years, was visited by a man made of all fluffy pillows and a big smiley mouth, and the man sat with Michal and talked to him a while and told him about the horrific life he was to lead and where it was to end for him, with his only, beloved brother smothering his life out on a cold prison floor, and the man suggested to Michal that wouldn't it be better if he did away with himself there and then and avoided all that horror? And Michal said ...
MICHAL. But if I do away with myself, my brother will never get to hear me being tortured, will he?
KATURIAN. "No," said the Pillowman.
MICHAL. But if my brother never gets to hear me being tortured, he may never write the stories he's going to write, might he?
KATURIAN. "That's true," said the Pillowman. And Michal thought about it a while and said ...
MICHAL. Well, I think we should probably just keep things the way they are, then, with me being tortured and him hearing and all of that business, 'cos I think I'm going to really like my brothers stories. I think I'm going to really like them. (Lights fade on Michal.)
KATURIAN. The story was going to finish in fashionably downbeat mode, with Michal going through ail that torment, with Katurian writing all those stories, only to have them burned from the world by a bulldog of a policeman. The story was going to finish that way, but was of course cut short by a bullet blowing his brains out two seconds too soon. And maybe it was best that the story didn't finish that way, as it wouldn't have been quite accurate. Because, for reasons known only to himself, the bulldog of a policeman chose not to put the stories in the burning trash, but placed them carefully with Katurian's case file, which he then sealed away to remain unopened for fifty-odd years. (Ariel puts the stories in the box file.) A fact which would have ruined the writers fashionably downbeat ending, but was somehow ... somehow ... more in keeping with the spirit of the thing. (Ariel snuffs out the fire in the bin with water, as the lights, v
ery slowly, fade to black.)
End of Play
PROPERTY LIST
Cigarettes
Lighter/matches
Toys
Paints
Pens
Paper
Note in red writing
Box file containing papers (TUPOLSKI) Blindfold (KATURIAN)
Metal box containing five bloody toes (TUPOLSKI)
Bloodied white cloth (ARIEL)
Axe (KATURIAN)
Drills (MOTHER, FATHER)
Pillow (KATURIAN, MICHAL)
False beard (GIRL)
Sandals (GIRL)
Dust (GIRL)
Cross (MOTHER, FATHER)
Shovel (MOTHER, FATHER)
Dirt (MOTHER, FATHER)
Gun (TUPOLSKI)
Hand-drawn map (TUPOLSKI)
Large battery with electrodes attached (ARIEL)
Black hood (TUPOLSKI)
Lighter fuel (TUPOLSKI)
Stage blood (KATURIAN)
Water (ARIEL)
SOUND EFFECTS
Noises of torture (drilling sounds, screams)
NEW PLAYS
* INTIMATE APPAREL by Lynn Nottage. The moving and lyrical story of a turn-of-the-century black seamstress whose gifted hands and sewing machine are the tools she uses to fashion her dreams from the whole cloth of her life's experiences. "...Nottage's play has a delicacy and eloquence that seem absolutely right for the time she is depicting..." -NY Daily News. "...thoughtful, affecting... The play offers poignant commentary on an era when the cut and color of ones dress—and of course, skin—determined whom one could and could not marry, sleep with, even talk to in public." -Variety. [2M, 4W] ISBN: 0-8222-2009-1
* BROOKLYN BOY by Donald Margulies. A witty and insightful look at what happens to a writer when his novel hits the bestseller list. "The characters are beautifully drawn, the dialogue sparkles..." -nytheatre.com. "Few playwrights have the mastery to smartly investigate so much through a laugh-out-loud comedy that combines the vintage subject matter of successful writer-returning-to-ethnic-roots with the familiar mid-life crisis." -Show Business Weekly. [4M, 3W] ISBN: 0-8222-2074-1
Martin McDonagh Page 8