by Fin Kennedy
HARRIET. And burgers.
JAMES. And pizza.
SAFF. And lasagne.
ROB. I just got suspended for selling lemonade!
KASIA. I need chocolate to concentrate on revising!
JAMES. It’s the nanny state gone mad.
SAJ comes in carrying a box with something inside.
He slams it down then marches up to CARA, brandishing one of JULIETTE’s leaflets.
SAFF, HARRIET and CHRIS block his way.
SAJ. Withdraw your backing for that crazy councillor.
CHRIS. She can’t do that, Saj.
SAJ (jostling CHRIS). Out of my way, vegan.
HARRIET. Just calm down.
SAJ. She’s gonna pass by-laws which will close us down!
HARRIET. Good.
SAJ. Limits on how many chicken shops, how close to schools, the hours we can open.
SAFF. I’m sad too.
CHRIS. But something had to be done.
SAJ. The bottom’s gonna drop out of the market!
HARRIET. That’s the idea.
SAJ. These are small businesses, legitimate family firms –
CHRIS. Find another trade.
SAJ. Like what? Tofu farmer?
CHRIS. You don’t grow tofu, you make it.
SAJ. You can shove it up your arse for all I care. Let me talk to Cara.
HARRIET. She’s busy right now.
SAJ. Cara – I’ve got your dad’s chicken.
CARA. What?
Clucking comes from inside the box.
SAJ. The one what flew into my back yard.
SAJ takes out a cheese wire.
Have you ever killed a chicken?
CARA. Don’t you dare.
SAJ. It’s easy. All you need’s a wire.
SAJ makes a loop with the cheese wire.
Put its little head through the middle and – pop.
SAJ opens the box. The clucking gets louder.
Give us a hand, would you, Rob.
ROB takes one end of the cheese wire.
CARA. Don’t you dare.
ROB. It won’t squirt blood on my shirt, will it?
CARA. Don’t you dare!
CARA rushes at them. JAMES and KASIA hold her back.
That’s my dad’s chicken – my dad’s!
SAJ. Then call your councillor, and tell her you withdraw your support.
CARA. But – but –
SAJ. Do it!
CARA collapses.
KASIA. Cara?
JAMES. Shit.
CHRIS. What did you do to her?
SAJ. Nothing!
CARA goes into seizure.
KASIA. Oh God, she’s having a fit.
SAFF. Oh my God.
ROB. What’s wrong with her?
SAJ. What does it mean?
HARRIET. Call an ambulance.
JAMES. Should we –
HARRIET. Don’t touch her! Clear any furniture away so she doesn’t bang her head.
KASIA. Oh my God.
SAFF. I feel sick.
KASIA. Is she dying?
HARRIET. It’s probably hyponatremia.
ROB. You what?
HARRIET. Low sodium, you can get it from fasting.
SAJ. Will she die?
HARRIET. Not if we get her to hospital. Did someone call that ambulance?
Blue lights. The cast lift CARA up and place her into a hospital bed.
CHRIS, HARRIET and SAFF stay by her bedside.
A drip is placed in CARA’s arm, and a glass of fluid by her bed.
KIRSTY enters. CARA is groggy.
KIRSTY. Oh my God, you stupid girl.
KIRSTY hugs CARA.
I was so worried.
CARA (weakly). I’m fine. It’s fine.
CARA’s voice is weak and croaky.
KIRSTY. You’re not fine. Are you going to eat something now?
CARA. I feel sick.
HARRIET. That’s a protein drip, it’s a form of food. (Of the glass.) And sugar water. We’ll get some solids in her when she feels better.
KIRSTY. Good. Here.
KIRSTY tries to make CARA drink some of the water. CARA turns her head away.
For God’s sake.
CARA. How’s Mum?
KIRSTY. She’s on her way. But enough is enough. Alright? You’ve made your point.
CARA. But I still haven’t had a response from Tesco.
HARRIET. You’re never serious?
KIRSTY. Cara, Dad’s memorial is tomorrow. At St Nick’s. Remember?
CARA (quietly). I know.
KIRSTY. It’s been twelve months. The family need you there. Are you really gonna kill yourself for Tesco? Do you think that’s what Dad would’ve wanted? (Suddenly angry.) They already killed him.
KIRSTY stops herself. She wells up. CARA takes her hand.
CARA. Hey. Hey, sis, I’m sorry.
Pause. KIRSTY composes herself.
KIRSTY. It’s fine. (Pause. Wipes her eyes.) We sold the farm.
CARA. Yeah?
KIRSTY. Yeah. We can go to uni. Both of us. It’s over.
CARA. Right. (Pause.) What about the campaign?
KIRSTY. It’s easier if you’re alive.
CARA nods. She drinks some of the sugar water KIRSTY is holding.
SAJ enters, followed by JAMES, KASIA and ROB.
CHRIS. Oh, what are they doing here?
SAFF. Stay away from her.
KIRSTY. Who’s this?
KASIA. We’re her friends.
SAJ. We made a card.
JAMES. Recycled of course.
ROB. And we brought fruit.
KASIA. Organic.
JAMES. Yeah and local – cost a blimmin fortune.
ROB. We was gonna nick some from Tescos but weren’t sure if you’d appreciate that.
SAJ. We brought a dictionary.
ROB. Yeah, get your five a day.
KASIA. Exams coming up.
JAMES. And Saj brought eggs.
HARRIET. Eggs?
SAJ. Yeah, laid by Jessie J.8
CARA. Who?
ROB. Your dad’s chicken. That’s her name now.
KASIA. We thought she looked like Jessie J.
JAMES. After she cut all her hair off obviously.9
SAJ. Though if you got her a little wig –
CHRIS. She’s still alive then?
SAJ. Yeah. I’ve become quite attached to her, to be honest. Cute little things, aren’t they?
KASIA. Saj has asked his dad if they can go free-range.
SAJ. Yeah alright, he hasn’t said yes.
JAMES. But he’s thinking about it.
SAJ. I mean, we’ll still kill and eat them, but at least they’ll have had a nicer life.
CHRIS. Well, that’s a start.
ROB. It’s all you’re getting, mate. If God didn’t want us to eat chicken, He wouldn’t have made it so delicious.
JAMES. Kasia thought she could make you an omelette.
KASIA. My own special recipe. Do you like chives?
CARA. I think so.
SAFF. What’s chives?
KASIA. You’re about to find out.
JAMES. Rob brought his camping stove.
ROB. I did.
ROB takes out his camping gas stove and a frying pan.
JAMES. I brought milk – fresh from the farm door, one hundred per cent profit to Mr Martins at Green Ridge Dairy.
KASIA. And I brought bread – baked by my mum. And she never bakes. It’s probably horrible actually, but it’s the thought that counts.
ROB. All washed down with a can of fizzy… mineral water!
ALL. Yay!
JAMES. So what do you reckon?
KIRSTY (moved). Your friends are lovely.
CARA. Yeah. Yeah, they’re alright.
HARRIET. I’d better go and ask my mum. About the omelette. She’s the ward sister here.
HARRIET exits.
SAJ. Cara… I’ve been meaning to ask… Did I… Was I… Did I
make you get ill?
CARA. No.
SAJ.…and have that… fit thing?
CARA. No, Saj. It was the fast. Low sodium, too much water. The nurse explained. You weren’t to blame.
SAJ. Right. Good. Thanks. Cos I was feeling bad about that.
CARA. Thanks for looking after my chicken.
SAJ. You can have it back if you want.
CARA. Why don’t you keep it?
SAJ. Really?
CARA. Yeah. The one that got away.
CHRIS. Just don’t eat it.
SAJ. Eat Jessie J? Never.
HARRIET comes back with a tray.
HARRIET. Mum says it’s fine. Just cook it on this to catch any mess.
HARRIET hands them the tray.
KASIA, JAMES, ROB and SAJ set up the gas stove on it and cook an omelette.
You sure you’re ready to eat?
CARA. I’ll have a little bit.
SAFF. Well, I’m bloody starving, I’ll have yours.
CHRIS. I’m vegan, I can’t eat eggs.
SAFF. Have some milk then.
CHRIS. It’s all dairy, Saff.
SAFF. Yeah, I have never understood that.
CHRIS. I’ll explain it to you one day.
KASIA. Have a chive.
KASIA holds one out.
ROB. He could hide behind one.
They laugh. Someone plays some music on their phone, a Jessie J number. SAJ produces some bananas.
SAJ (of the bananas). I guess this is dessert then.
JAMES. Did you nick those?
SAJ. It’s a hospital, it’s full of fruit.
HARRIET. You know, I never did find out why we share sixty per cent of our DNA with a banana. It must be because, somehow, if you go back far enough, everything is connected to everything else.
SAJ. That’s deep, man.
CHRIS. Yeah.
SAFF. Shit, that means we’re connected to mushrooms and they’re disgusting.
HARRIET. I love mushrooms.
SAFF. Bleurgh.
JAMES. And celery.
CHRIS. Yum.
JAMES. Yuck.
ROB. And garlic.
KASIA. And gherkins.
SAFF. And horses.
SAJ. Of course horses.
SAFF. And farriers.
CHRIS. Farriers are people anyway.
ROB. Hang on, does this mean vegan Chris is related to a kebab?
JAMES. You can’t be related to a kebab.
SAFF. You can.
JAMES. You can’t.
ROB. You can.
HARRIET. No you can’t.
ROB. What about after you’ve eaten it?
ALL. Eurgh.
CHRIS. I don’t wanna think about that.
HARRIET. Just cook the omelette, man.
SAFF. Is there enough to go round?
SAJ. Jessie J only laid three.
SAFF. Just three?
ROB. Yeah she ‘Did It Like A Dude’ though.*
ALL. Aaaaah very good.
JAMES. Yeah but what was the ‘Price Tag’?*
SAFF/ALL. Back atcha!
CHRIS. I bet it was ‘Wild’.*
SAFF/ALL. Boom!
SAJ. Hey ‘Nobody’s Perfect’ though.*
ALL. Raaaa!
KASIA. Yeah, but ‘Who’s Laughing Now?’*
ROB/ALL. Smashed it!
SAJ. Just shut up and cook, man.
The cast mime chatting while they cook.
CARA. And as the oil fizzes, and the eggs crackle and pop, a rich, warm smell rises up – and I’m suddenly aware of an unfamiliar feeling in my tummy. My appetite. My appetite is back.
I open my dictionary. We’re up to H.
Harvest.
Happiness.
Hope.
As the Jessie J track fades up, and we leave them cooking their omelette at CARA’s bedside.
Endnotes
1. The Islamic name for breaking of the Ramadan fast after sundown each day.
2. If this reference dates the play, it can be substituted with any well-known figure who is good at maths, either contemporary or historical, e.g. Albert Einstein.
3. If this reference dates the play, it can be substituted with any contemporary celebrity chef.
4. If the Gordon Ramsay reference is changed, this line and the next can be cut.
5. Reference can be updated if necessary.
6. If this dates the play any famous cyclist can be substituted here.
7. Not strictly necessary if budget is limited or being performed in an enclosed space!
8. If this reference dates the play it can be updated to a contemporary pop star – so long as s/he bears a passing resemblance to a chicken.
9. If the Jessie J reference is changed, this and the next line can be cut.
* These lines are all references to Jessie J songs. If the play is being performed a long time after 2014, and the Jessie J reference updated, this section can be cut, to go straight to Cara’s final speech.
THE DOMINO EFFECT
Author’s Note
The play is written in an ensemble style, with a chorus of Narrators who can number anything from two to ten. Lines in the narrative passages can be distributed among the company as they see fit. Individual named parts can be doubled by Narrators, or can be played by separate actors. Smaller bit parts can be played by anyone, and the really small cameos could even be played by puppets, projections or otherwise suggested impressionistically. Cast size is therefore highly variable – though I would suggest a minimum of about eight to play all the parts and pull off all the effects required.
The play is written to incorporate dance and physical-theatre sequences. These can be performed by the Narrators/actors, or by a separate team of dancers. The intention is to achieve a fluid playing style in which we can move quite quickly through time and space. Dance and movement is intended to be part of the story, the story should not stop for it to take place. Similarly, all of the passages of narration are intended to be accompanied by a physical enactment of the stories we are hearing. Just because movement is not specified in the stage directions does not mean nothing is happening on stage. Indeed, physical movement is essential to bring the denser passages of text alive. I am deliberately vague about the onstage activity in order to allow the company to deploy their own imaginations in how to bring the play to life. Bodies and movement can even be used to suggest locations at times. Detailed naturalistic sets are therefore not required, and there should not be lengthy pauses for scene changes. Projected imagery or even simple stop-motion animation may assist with this.
The Domino Effect was first performed by Mulberry Theatre Company at the 2014 Edinburgh Festival Fringe on 4 August 2014, with the following ensemble cast:
ONSTAGE
BACKSTAGE
Jamila Ahmed Afsana Begum
Tamanna Ali Almitra Simpson
Naphysa Awuah Naima Chowdhury
Maria Jahan Begum Bipasha Islam
Tanya Hossain Kinza Javaid
Naeemah Islam
Shahena Miah
Nowshin Sweety
Director Shona Davidson
Movement Director Lynsey Roddam
Voice Coach Sarah Blumenau
Designer Barbara Fuchs
Design Assistant Rachel Roselle
Production Manager Chris Stone
Company Manager Afsana Begum
Characters
in order of appearance:
NARRATORS
FOX
MRS KHAN
STANLEY TROUT
PATIENCE ADEMOLA
JOYNUL UDDIN
MRS UDDIN
ALI MUSTAFA
MAHMUD NAZIM
JUDITH THE SHEEP
FAHIDA BEGUM
LAILA BEGUM
TOWER HAMLETS COUNCILLOR
AMINA RAHMAN
NABIJAH RAHMAN
SAMIT RAHMAN
MUSEUM GUARD
BOSS
DOCTOR
&nb
sp; TEACHER
FLUSTOMER
THE DEBT COLLECTOR
POLICEMAN 1
POLICEMAN 2
ARTEMIS
LAWYER 1
LAWYER 2
ANIMALS
INTERVIEW PANEL
MUSEUM OF TIME CURATORS
GIRL/SURGEON
NARRATORS. On the first of March 1997
At 7.03 a.m.
A wild fox trots down Whitechapel Road, East London
In the misty half-light of a Tower Hamlets dawn.
Like a fox, these streets never sleep;
Even at this hour they are quietly humming;
Padded paws pass Jalebi Junction
Firing its fryers to tempt early risers
With caramel saffron, sticky and sweet.
On past the butcher’s, starting his bandsaw
With the briefest of pauses at the scent of raw meat.
Then quietly on past Cashino Gaming
Mocking the dark with its bright neon wares
Silently slinking past Crystal Gifts
The owner inside lying prostrate in prayer.
At The Blind Beggar pub the landlord locks out his lock-ins
And bedraggled old men find the dawn a surprise.
On past a café too cool for a name
Where hipster baristas rub sleep from their eyes.
The fox
Stops
Sits up on its haunches
Right outside the twenty-four-hour Budgens
Where grumpy Mrs Khan mans the till
Day and night
A woman seemingly devoid of all human needs;
No food
No drink
No sleep
Not even the bathroom.
Nothing except spy novels
Her nose buried deep
In a different adventure every night;
Tales of international intrigue
Casinos
Assassinations
And fur coats;
A magic circle to keep the night at bay.
Pause.
For a moment
Time stands still
On the thirteenth of March 1997
At 7.03 a.m.
And fifty-six seconds
Fifty-seven
Fifty-eight
Fifty-nine
Then:
Bam!
Grumpy Mrs Khan looks up from her book
And spies the fox.
MRS KHAN. Shoo!
NARRATORS. And with that
Startled
It darts across Whitechapel Road
In a dark flash of red.
This event causes Stanley Trout
A domestic-heating engineer from Poplar
To swerve his white van into the path of a Vauxhall Vectra