The Violent Outburst that drew me to you

by Finegan Kruckemeyer

  DAD: We both love you.

  CONNOR hears the car leave, then acknowledges his surrounds. Beat. He screams and lashes out, striking wildly at everything and nothing around him.

  CONNOR: This is bullshit! Forests are bullshit! Dumb houses that my dumb, dead granddad made are bullshit! He’s bullshit! … I never met him, but he’s still bullshit! His sons are bullshit! The women they married are bullshit! The lives they have and the houses and the jobs and the … and the world they live in and the Volvos they drive and their garages and washing old men’s balls and Stephen Fry and Timo and the Impressionists and the Futurists and the Dadaists and … no internet and no buildings and just … trees and just rivers and … this air, and … you all … sitting there with your dumb faces and … those creatures and … whatever that thing is that’s crawling on my jeans and … being here and … and … being me here and … it’s all just …

  Silence. Slowly CONNOR calms and heads into the shack.

  SCENE TEN

  Birdsong. Nature—a sense of calm and beautitude.

  A stick flies across the stage, shattering the peace, and the sound is heard of a bird taking flight. CONNOR emerges, wet and muddy, wearing a bandanna.

  CONNOR: Come back here, Breakfast! That’s your name—‘Breakfast’! And tell your friends—it’s their name too! It’s all your names!

  Dejected, he sits and writes.

  Day … Two: Hunting’s not going very well. I even stood in a river for a bit and covered myself in mud so they wouldn’t get my scent, but they’re surprisingly smart. Over the next couple of days, I do lots of different stuff.

  The sense of a montage as CONNOR moves from one event to the next, and in the same manner also narrates:

  I communicate with nature.

  He kicks at a tree, repeatedly.

  I think about my family.

  He is screaming and giving wild double middle-fingers to his surrounds.

  I go for walks.

  He trudges, crying and lost.

  I sleep.

  He tries to lie still, before wildly flailing at mosquitoes and screaming.

  I invent homebrew vodka by fermenting potatoes.

  He studies a jug full of strange liquid. He takes a big gulp, pauses, then smiles.

  Yeah, it’s pretty alright actually. Kind of a sweet aftertaste but aside from tha/

  He promptly vomits. For a while.

  Sorry about that—all good now. I get to/

  He vomits again. For another while. Slowly he regains his composure.

  I get to …

  He retches … but controls himself.

  I get to know the shack.

  He kicks at the shack, repeatedly.

  And I build this.

  He displays a rudimentary bow and arrow, fashioned from branches and a shoelace.

  This is proper MacGyver stylees. It’s called the … the Connor Nicholls Turbo Ultra Death-Fighter Bow and Arrow Combo Killer 3000, and it’s basically the best model out there—if all you’ve got is wood and shoelaces. It probably can’t do anything but/

  LOTTE enters wearing a backpack.

  LOTTE: /Hello.

  CONNOR turns, accidentally releasing the arrow. It shoots off and lands embedded in a tree right beside LOTTE’s head.

  Silence.

  Both look at the arrow in shock. Snapping out of it, LOTTE heads for CONNOR.

  CONNOR: Oh my God, I’m so sorry and I didn’t mean to let it go and what are you/?

  She kicks him in the balls and he falls, rolling on the ground.

  Ow! Ow, devil woman! What the hell are you doing?!

  Beat.

  LOTTE: Could have killed me.

  SCENE ELEVEN

  Both sit together on the porch.

  CONNOR: I can’t believe you kicked me in the balls.

  LOTTE: And I can’t believe you nearly shot me in the face.

  CONNOR: Couldn’t … Couldn’t have made it look … much worse.

  LOTTE: Oh, real funny, Stutter Guy. Are you a … are you a comedian?

  CONNOR: Maybe I am. Maybe I’m a wicked comedian. Maybe I’m the funn/

  LOTTE: /Yeah—and maybe you suck/

  CONNOR: /Oh, good. I suck. Well, that’s good to know/

  LOTTE: /Well, you should know/

  CONNOR: /Well, now I do. Thank you. Thanks for telling me/

  LOTTE: /No problem. You had to hear it sometime/

  CONNOR: /And now I have, so/

  LOTTE: /So …

  CONNOR: … Yeah.

  LOTTE: Yup. Great chat.

  Silence.

  What’re you even doing here? You some weird survivalist guy or something?

  CONNOR: Nah. I’m a prisoner of conscience.

  LOTTE: …

  CONNOR: I’m staying in my granddad’s shack ’cause my dumb parents kicked me out.

  LOTTE: Oh.

  CONNOR: What about you?

  LOTTE: Mine are even more dumb—they came with me. We’re camping near the river back there.

  CONNOR: What? I’ve been walking round for days—there’s no-one else here. I’d have seen you.

  LOTTE: Or not. We’ve been hearing … Was there a woman crying round here?

  CONNOR: Um … yeah. Yeah, she left this morni/

  LOTTE: /It was you, wasn’t it?/

  CONNOR: /Yeah.

  LOTTE: And all the swearing as well? And the sticks flying round the place?

  CONNOR: …

  LOTTE: You’re a bit shit at nature, aren’t you?

  CONNOR: I think so.

  LOTTE: Can’t believe your family got rid of you out here.

  CONNOR: I know. It’s pretty rud/

  LOTTE: /Brilliant—wish mine had. They’re breaking up.

  CONNOR: Oh, right. In a forest?

  LOTTE: They want to ‘give it one more shot’ (whatever that means). So they brought me and Albie out here camping with them.

  CONNOR: Albie, right. So he’s … your boyfriend?

  LOTTE: Oh my God, put it away, you twat. He’s my brother.

  CONNOR: Cool. Whatever.

  LOTTE: Ha.

  CONNOR: So—are they? Gonna split up?

  LOTTE: Hope so—It’d be better than this. They keep giving each other shoulder massages … and whispering to each other and then both giggling. And at night … their tent—ugh. I wish you had shot me in the face.

  What’d you do wrong—to get sent away?

  CONNOR: Some pretty bad stuff. You’d probably be shocked by m/

  LOTTE: /I got expelled for stealing my principal’s car and crashing it into a tree. My parents had to pay for that and so Albie and me didn’t get any presents this Christmas. And the only present I gave Albie was a big heavy box, and his face got all excited—and inside was just a brick and a note saying: ‘Sucked in’. I kissed my best friend’s boyfriend. Set fire to a bus shelter near our house. I got caught with a knife. At my new school I was on canteen duty and I weed in a cup of cordial and gave it to Melissa Towney who’s a year-eleven bitch, and she drank it.

  Beat.

  CONNOR: Yours are … pretty bad too.

  LOTTE: Mmm. That’s kind of the other reason we’re in the bush, as well as Mum and Dad doing yoga together in the mornings—which is probably the lamest thing in the world. Have you ever seen your dad doing ‘downward dog’?

  CONNOR: No.

  LOTTE: Good—it’s a form of child abuse.

  Beat.

  CONNOR: You sound … angry.

  LOTTE: I am angry.

  CONNOR: ’Cause of … ’Cause of them breaking up and stuff?

  LOTTE: Nah, just ’cause …

  Beat.

  ’Cause of everything. [Gesturing to herself] This. Me. ’Cause my brain … feels older than I am. But everyone sees me as younger than I am. So no-one pays attention to any shit I say. But I’m growing tits, so everyone pays attention to those/

  CONNOR: /I’m not! What? Nothing!

  LOTTE: … Everyone’s asking me what I wa
nt to be. But I don’t know what I want to be. I know what I fucking don’t want to be. And that’s … sixteen.

  Beat.

  CONNOR: Yeah. That kinda makes sense.

  LOTTE: Well—don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m smarter than I am.

  CONNOR: … Okay.

  LOTTE: … You’re doing it.

  CONNOR: I’m trying not to.

  She gets up and begins to exit.

  Where you going?

  LOTTE: … That way.

  CONNOR: Why?

  LOTTE: Oh, I’m sorry, friend. Because … none-of-your-business. I need a piss.

  CONNOR: … Right.

  LOTTE: Girls do them sometimes.

  CONNOR: Yeah, I know.

  He laughs.

  LOTTE: What?

  CONNOR: You’re funny. You’re … It’s nice to have some company.

  LOTTE: Oh, God, make that a piss and a vomit. I gotta go anyway. See you tomorrow.

  CONNOR: Oh. Right, then. ’Bye.

  LOTTE exits. CONNOR stares after her.

  SCENE TWELVE

  LOTTE sneaks up on CONNOR, who is attempting to whittle.

  LOTTE: Stop masturbating!/

  CONNOR: /Ah! I’m not! What?!

  LOTTE: [cracking up] Best response ever. What’re you doing?

  CONNOR: Whittling.

  LOTTE: How big was it before?

  CONNOR: … ’Bout the same size—I’m not much good at it. I did cut my hand though, look. Hardcore.

  LOTTE: Impressive.

  CONNOR: I might show it to my perries when they pick me up. Say I’m self-harming.

  LOTTE: Can you grow an emo fringe too? And become straight-edge? And get cobweb tattoos on your face?

  CONNOR: Nice.

  Beat.

  So … you kissed your best mate’s boyfriend?

  LOTTE: Yeah. What a bitch, hey?

  CONNOR: I’m not judging—I knocked my best mate out.

  LOTTE: Did you kiss him too?

  CONNOR: Just the punch.

  LOTTE: So you get in fights? That’s what you do?

  CONNOR: Nah—not my style.

  Untrue! I have only been in one proper one. Luke Caruso told everyone at school I was born without male genitalia and had to have an operation when I was a kid to get balls attached.

  LOTTE: Is that true?

  CONNOR: No. What? Of course it’s not!

  Anyway, after that I had to fight him on the oval.

  LOTTE: And how’d that work out for you?

  CONNOR: Yeah, pretty good. First I cheeked him in the fist. Then I stomached him in the knee. Then I delivered a wicked nose bleed and cried a bit.

  LOTTE: Sounds amazing.

  CONNOR: Mmm. But at least everyone knew I was really a guy after that.

  LOTTE: How?

  CONNOR: Luke dacked me, and they all saw everything.

  LOTTE: And, that’s a wrap.

  I never got in one.

  CONNOR: No?

  LOTTE: Nup. After the weeing in the cordial thing with Melissa Towney, she wanted to. Fight me. So the next day she came to my home room, when the teacher wasn’t round yet, and she had the whole of our year with her pretty much.

  CONNOR: ’Cause they all wanted to see.

  LOTTE: Mmm. And she said, ‘I’m gonna make you bleed, skank’.

  CONNOR: Good line.

  LOTTE: Riveting. And so I said, ‘Okay—I’ll get started for you’. And I reached back and … [miming it] … smashed this massive window behind me—without taking my eyes off her.

  CONNOR: Jesus …

  LOTTE: And then when I brought my hand back in front of me it was bleeding pretty bad. And I held it out to her, and smiled, and said, ‘How’s that for a first go? Or shall we try for some more?’

  Pause.

  CONNOR: That’s actually mental.

  LOTTE: Yeah—that’s what everyone kind of thought. So no-one’s really messed with me since then.

  Silence. LOTTE leans in to kiss CONNOR.

  CONNOR: Woah. Hey—what’s that?

  LOTTE: If … you can’t identify it, that’s a bit weird.

  CONNOR: I mean—why are you kissing me?

  LOTTE: Um—why are you not?

  CONNOR: … I don’t know you.

  LOTTE: That’s kind of the point. Most guys, the more I know about them, the less I wanna kiss them. Migh’s well do it now while you still seem a bit alright.

  CONNOR: Oh, yeah.

  They kiss. And part.

  You taste like corn chips/

  LOTTE: /We had guacamole for lunch/

  CONNOR: /Cool.

  She studies the shack.

  LOTTE: So, can I see your hovel?

  CONNOR: It’s a shack.

  LOTTE: Oh, I’m sorry. I meant to say, ‘Can I see your hovel?’

  CONNOR: You’re mean.

  They head inside—the ensuing discussion is heard.

  It’s been here ages, I reckon.

  LOTTE: Will it collapse on my head?

  CONNOR: Only if you move. Or breathe.

  Pause.

  LOTTE: It’s kind of beautiful—in a falling-downy way.

  CONNOR: I hate it. But then I also hate being at home, or at school, or at Timo’s—or anywhere, really.

  LOTTE: Hardcore. So was it the same hardcore who laid out the tablecloth? And put those flowers in a vase?

  CONNOR: No!

  … Yes. I know it’s wei/

  LOTTE: /It’s nice. That’s a nice thing to do.

  They return outside.

  You really hate it?

  CONNOR: It’s a collapsing shack in the middle of God-knows-where in which my loving parents have left their one and only son to be angry.

  Beat. LOTTE considers this and picks up a rock.

  LOTTE: Well, don’t let them down.

  CONNOR: What?

  She throws the rock through the window.

  You just—did you see that?!

  LOTTE: I just did that/

  CONNOR: /You just did that! You just … smashed my window.

  LOTTE: It’s not yours. It’s a ‘collapsing shack, in the middle of God-knows-where’.

  CONNOR: Yeah …

  He picks up a rock and considers it.

  Screw you, hovel!

  He throws it. He misses the window. Beat.

  LOTTE: … That was a bit shit.

  She hands him another. He smashes the window.

  Silence.

  CONNOR stares at it. Resolved, he heads inside and LOTTE follows.

  The sound of destruction is heard from within. Finally a chair exits through the window and the pair emerge, content. They kiss.

  CONNOR: That’s what happens … if they think losing me in a forest … will calm me down.

  That’s what happens.

  LOTTE: ’Cept you’re not.

  CONNOR: What?

  LOTTE: Lost. You’re not. You’re right where the world wants you: away from everyone, yeah, but still findable when it decides you can come back. You’re not lost.

  CONNOR: I feel like it.

  LOTTE: Nup. To feel really lost, Connor …

  She stares into the forest. He does too.

  You have to get lost.

  Beat.

  So—young man that I met in the forest …

  CONNOR: Yes—young woman that I met in the forest?

  LOTTE: Would you like … to run into a forest with me? Would you like to get proper lost, in a proper forest, with me?

  Beat.

  CONNOR: Just run?

  LOTTE: Just that.

  CONNOR: With no … maps, or water …

  LOTTE: And wearing very unsensible shoes.

  CONNOR: And not at all checking the impending weather conditions. Not informing anyone of our intended journey.

  LOTTE: Not even informing us of our intended journey. Do you wanna run with me?

  Beat.

  CONNOR: I would love that very much.

  They pick a direction and exi
t, running.

  SCENE THIRTEEN

  CONNOR and LOTTE run through the forest. Sometimes they stop to make out, then return to running. Sometimes they fall and get back up. Sometimes they snap branches and then make out again and then run some more. Time passes—the sense of dusk.

  Finally they stop, both breathless.

  CONNOR: Oh, my fuck. How far have we gone?

  LOTTE: Far. Long way. My God, I … I can’t breathe.

  CONNOR: Ha. Me neither. Ha. Shit, we’re so … so completely gonna die out here.

  LOTTE: Yeah, but not for a couple of days at least.

  CONNOR: Your parents will come looking for us.

  LOTTE: For me maybe. They don’t know you. They won’t come looking for you.

  CONNOR: But if I’m with you. Then I’ll be saved too.

  She looks at him, and shakes her head.

  LOTTE: Ha.

  CONNOR: What?

  LOTTE: ‘Be saved’.

  Beat.

  Do you … like anything back there, Connor?

  CONNOR: … Not really.

  LOTTE: Well, do you like where we are now?

  CONNOR: It’s … perfect/

  LOTTE: /Yeah, so what the hell does ‘be saved’ mean?

  What kind of dumbness would make the idea of leaving somewhere amazing, and then going back to … to breaking-up families and bullshit schools and dumb friends and … and endless shittiness … ever feel like being saved?

  Silence.

  CONNOR: Except it’s not really like that with me.

  LOTTE: Like what?

  CONNOR: Like … with your family. Like with you having to see that. My parents …

  LOTTE: What—they don’t fight?

  CONNOR: … No, actually. Or not with each other. Just … with me. They have to fight all the time with me. So in a … in a stupid way I’m … I think I hold them together. Ha. I think our battles … keep them solid.

  Never really thought of it like that.

  LOTTE: Oh. Oh, well … Good, Connor. Yeah, you have a good think, then. You just …

  Beat. She watches him.

  ’Cause that’s what … that’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? That’s what you’re doing—that’s what this is. You’re playing being out here in the forest, with the … the smashy-hand chick that you met—that you nearly shot in the face.

  And you … kissed her a bit. And kissing’s fun—that’s cool.

  And then … you messed up a shack with her! Oh! And that felt like such a … relief! Wow, you felt so empowered by that. That was a really … really brave thing of you to do. Of us to do. Punk kids—fuck …

  And you, you tell stories—about punching someone, punching your friend. Or … smashing a window! Wow, we’re angry. That’s anger there. Don’t fuck with us. We’re angry young people, yeah.