Brownbread & War

by Roddy Doyle

  Bishop Sticks and stones may break my bones.

  Donkey (looking back at the lads) Wha’ abou’ bullets?

  Ao Don’t mind him, Your Bishop.

  A helicopter approaches. The lads brace themselves. The helicopter fades.

  Donkey (relaxing) I nearly pressed the trigger there.

  John sniggers.

  Donkey I did. —I wonder would I really kill him if I had to. —I’d say I would. —Wha’ d’yeh think?

  Donkey is studying his trigger hand, pressing his finger, gently squeezing the trigger. The Bishop tries to watch. He is planking, but afraid to say anything in case he annoys Donkey.

  Donkey Yeah; I’d say I would alrigh’. No problem. — Bang!-

  The Bishop almost faints.

  Donkey I wonder how big a hole it’d make.

  (Laughing.) Come here; it’d be fuckin’ great to blow a big hole in him an’ wave ou’ at them; wouldn’t it? (After pretending to shoot the Bishop, and waving at Bishop’s stomach.) Howyis, Yanks! Cooee!

  Ao Lay off, Donkey, will yeh. Yeh’ll give him a heart attack an’ then we’ll be in trouble.

  Donkey Ah, he’s alrigh’.

  (To the Bishop.) Aren’t yeh alrig‘, Fergus?

  Bishop —I’m very tired.

  Donkey Go to sleep then. —I wouldn’t mind killin’ someone, d’yeh know tha’. —Just to see wha’ it’d be like.

  Ao Yeah.

  John Fuckin’ spacers.

  Donkey aims the gun at John.

  Ao Stop messin’, Donkey.

  John looks around and sees the gun, and dives. Donkey puts the gun back on the Bishop.

  Donkey Paddy Delaney. I’d love to shoot him I would.

  Ao and John are grinning across at each other.

  Donkey I’d go up to him an’ I’d say, ’Howyeh, Paddy; how’s Tina?’. Then I’d blow his fuckin’ head off.

  Ao and John are laughing.

  Donkey Fuck off. —Who would youse like to kill?

  John Well, I’ve already shot me ma.

  The lads laugh.

  Ao Rolf Harris.

  John Ah yeah.

  Donkey (after some deliberation) I don’t think I’d shoot me ma.

  A noise is heard behind the back wall.

  Ao (getting up on the bed, and listening) There they are, the bollixes. (Not too loud.) Come in.

  John (hearing something downstairs) I think they’re comin’ up.

  Donkey Oh shite! This is it.

  (Getting ready to shoot the Bishop.) Start sayin’ your Haily Marys, Fergus.

  A helicopter is approaching. It hovers for a longer duration than previously. For a few seconds it seems that this is finally ‘it’. The lads and the Bishop are helpless, tense and very scared. The helicopter fades.

  Donkey (letting out breath) Oooh, Jaysis!! Fuckin’ hell.

  Donkey slips to his knees. He takes the gun from his hand and massages his neck. John slumps. Ao falls back down on the bed. The Bishop begins to bend at the knees, hoping that he’ll be allowed to sit down. He’s exhausted, shattered etc.

  Donkey (alert again) Get back up there!

  Bishop Please, Donkey —

  Donkey Get up!

  Bishop (trying to maintain dignity, but having difficulty) I’ll collapse. Donkey I dare yeh.

  John stands up, obviously with something on his mind. He’s very agitaeed. He looks around, almost frantically.

  John I have to have a shite. —I’m goin’ in the corner here, Donkey; okay.

  Donkey turns. The Bishop slumps. Donkey presses the gun into the Bishop’s gut without looking back at him. The Bishop straightens up again.

  Donkey (to John) Yeh will in your shite! No way! —Go ou’ to the jacks! —Yeh dirty bastard, yeh.

  John (desperate) No; they’re ou’ there.

  (Obviously holding it in.) Go on, Donkey. Let us. —I’ll clean it up after.

  Donkey No way! —I’ll shoot yeh.

  Ao (to John) I’ll keep an eye ou’ for yeh.

  John Thanks!

  Exit John, dashing.

  Ao (to Donkey) Righ’. He’ll be sittin’ down now.

  (Roars.) Sketch! Johnner! They’re comin’. Quick!

  John (from offstage) I don’t care!

  Donkey The nerve o’ him! I’ll clean it up after. For fuck sake! It’s disgustin’.

  Ao Eh, Donkey. —I pissed in the wardrobe.

  Donkey Yeh wha’!? Oh, good Jesus!

  Donkey charges over to the wardrobe and starts sniffing the clothes. Ao enjoys watching him. The Bishop sinks down and sits on the chair.

  Donkey (into the wardrobe) Me ma’ll destroy me. —I’ll have to throw them all in the bath.

  (Copping on that he’s been had; to Ao.) Yeh bollix.

  Donkey sees the Bishop sitting down, and charges across to him.

  Donkey (almost screeching) Here! Get back up there! Quick! Quick! The Bishop jumps back up onto the chair. Donkey sticks the gun back into the Bishop’s gut.

  Enter John, looking pleased. He does a ballet turn.

  John I’m a new man, lads. —It came up ou’ of the water, I’m not jokin’ yis.

  Bishop (weakly) I’m going to faint.

  Donkey (aggressively) Are yeh? Are yeh now?

  Ao Hang on. I’ve an idea.

  Ao takes the gun from Donkey. Donkey lets him because he wants to see what Ao’s going to do with it.

  Ao (to Donkey) Hold tha’ sleeve there. —Yeah; like tha’. Donkey holds one of the sleeves of the Bishop’s gown against the window frame, more or less in the position it would be in if the Bishop’s arm was still holding it up.

  Ao (to John) You do the same on the other side.

  John (imitating Plain-clothes) Okay.

  Ao Righ‘, Your Bishop. Climb ou’.

  The lads laugh as they see Ao’s plan working out. The Bishop slides out of his gown and climbs down onto the floor. Donkey and John hold the gown against the window.

  Donkey Brilliant. Fuckin’ brilliant.

  The Bishop stands in tunic, boxer shorts, red socks, shoes and mitre. Bishop (exhausted and relieved) Many thanks.

  The Bishop goes to the bed.

  Ao (pointing) The skidmarks, wha’.

  The lads roar laughing. The Bishop sits on the bed, unaware of the fun.

  John Easily know yeh weren’t married, Fergus.

  Donkey (unable to finish because he’s laughing so much) If the Marines charge in now—

  Bishop (beginning to stand up) I’ll have to, —if I may —

  Ao Wha’?

  Bishop Visit the lavatory.

  Ao Oh yeah.

  Exit the Bishop, trying not to walk too urgently.

  Ao I’ll keep an eye on him.

  Exit Ao.

  Donkey Yeuh! Hate tha’.

  John and Donkey continue to hold the gown against the window. The novelty has worn off.

  Donkey (after a pause) This is stupid.

  The lights over the room go down.

  Enter Lieutenant Bukowski. He stands down-stage, left.

  Enter Private Crabacre, immediately after Bukowski. Crabacre, dressed for combat, is a native of Hangman’s Pardon, Mississippi. He is not unlike Radar from ‘M.A.S.H.’, but a good deal less cuddly. He carries a field phone on his back. He is holding the receiver in one of his hands.

  Crabacre We got the Pentagon here, Sir. Lookin’ for Lieutenant-Colonel Bukowski; and that’s you, Sir.

  Bukowski (taking the phone) Thank you, Private.

  Crabacre Sir.

  Bukowski (waiting for the call to come through) And, Private? Crabacre Yes, Sir?

  Bukowski (almost absently) Was your mother’s operation a success? Crabacre Yes, Sir.

  Bukowski Good. —That’s good.

  Crabacre ‘Preciate it, Sir. Removed sixteen growths, Sir. Bukowski Hmm; that’s a lot of growths, I guess.

  Crabacre Yes, Sir. Reckon so. Weren’t but two of them nonmalignant.

  Bukowski (into the phone) Ah, Major O
’Malley!

  Crabacre (alert and listening) Shoot!

  Bukowski How are you, Sir?

  (after a pause) Yes, Sir.

  (after a pause.) Yes, Sir; Operation Eagle Beak is underway.

  We are counting down right now, Sir.

  At no time does Bukowski look flustered or in need of help from Private

  Crabacre. Crabacre shows seven raised fingers to Bukowski.

  Crabacre Seven to go, Sir.

  Bukowski (into the phone) Approximately seven minutes, Sir. We are going in at, eh, eighteen hundred hours and twenty-three, Sir.

  Crabacre nods.

  Bukowski (into the phone) Yes, Sir. And twenty-three.

  (After a pause.) In case the enemy expects us on the hour or half hour, Sir.

  (After a pause.) Thank you, Sir.

  Crabacre shrugs modestly.

  Bukowski (after a pause) Yes, Sir. We think the delaying tactic has worked, Sir. Our deep reconnaissance personnel have been monitoring the behavioural patterns of the enemy, Sir. And, well, Sir, they report that the terrorists have exceeded their, eh —

  Crabacre Exhaustion threshold.

  Bukowski —exhaustion threshold and that intercompatibility has been, eh —

  Crabacre De-sustained, Sir.

  Bukowski — de-sustained, Sir.

  (After a pause.) Yes, Sir. As you say. Like rats in a trap.

  Crabacre (to himself) An’ possums up a gum tree.

  Bukowski Yes, Sir. We have established moral and, Sir, , psychological ascendancy over the, eh —

  Crabacre Enemy, Sir.

  Bukowski —enemy, Sir.

  Crabacre (to himself) We got those boys whooped for sure.

  Bukowski Thank you, Sir.

  (After a pause.) Yes, Sir. The assault team embussed approximately —

  Crabacre shows him ten fingers.

  Bukowski —ten minutes ago and the, eh —

  Crabacre does a quick helicopter impression.

  Bukowski — helicraft is approaching the dropping zone. And, of course, Sir, ground personnel are deployed and standing by.

  Crabacre (to himself) An’ the boys with the body bags too.

  Bukowski No, Sir. The assault team won’t be going in over the balcony, I’m afraid. There is no balcony, Sir.

  (After a pause.) No, Sir. It’s what they call a corporation house

  over here, Sir. Project housing, Sir.

  (After a pause.) No, Sir. We’ve had no reports of any negroid personnel among the indigenous population.

  Crabacre Or A-rabs, Sir.

  Bukowski Or middle-eastern personnel.

  Crabacre The China boy, Sir.

  Bukowski Although, Sir, we did debrief a male Asian we located at a bus-stop, Sir. (After a pause.) No, Sir. He was going to school.

  Crabacre (to himself) Had him a reading book name of ‘Peig’. Bukowski No, Sir. You never can be too sure.

  Crabacre (to himself) With all that Chinese writin’ inside of it.

  Bukowski Yes, Sir. It is a shame about the balcony.

  Crabacre (to himself) Little ol’ China woman on the cover.

  Bukowski I agree, Sir. It would have made an awesome photo-opportunity, as you say. But the rope ladder —

  Crabacre (to himself) Lookin’ all kind o’ sinister an’ Chinese.

  Bukowski Yes, Sir. After the enemy has been dealt with and neutralised, Sir.

  (After a pause.) He is a Catholic bishop, I know, Sir.

  Crabacre (to himself) Ain’t a real bishop.

  Bukowski We will be careful, Sir, I assure you.

  Crabacre (to himself) Ain’t but a aux-hillary bishop.

  Bukowski Thank you again, Sir. Goodbye, Major O’Malley.

  Crabacre (taking the phone) I’ll take this here, Sir.

  Bukowski Thank you, Private. —And your father, Private; how is he?

  Crabacre Daid, Sir.

  Bukowski Good. —That’s good.

  Crabacre ’Preciate it, Sir.

  Exit Bukowski and Crabacre. The lights over the room go up.

  Donkey This is stupid.

  John Yeah.

  Enter Ao and the Bishop.

  Donkey How long are we supposed to stay like this for?

  Ao We’ll just give the bishop a bit of a rest.

  Donkey Me arms are fuckin’ killin’ me.

  Ao I’ll swap with yeh in a bit.

  John Wha’ abou’ me?

  Ao We’ll take turns.

  The Bishop sits on the bed. Ao aims the gun at the Bishop all the time.

  Donkey I’m fuckin’ starvin’, d‘yeh know tha’.

  John Yeah.

  Donkey (to Ao) Tell them we want food.

  Ao No point. They won’t answer again.

  Donkey I’d eat a baby. I would.

  Bishop (trying to be reasonable) If you would just call a halt —

  Ao Shut up, Your Bishop.

  Bishop But, —in God’s name, can you not —?

  Ao I’m warnin’ yeh. Shut up.

  Bishop No, I will not shut up. I have tried to —

  Ao slaps the mitre off the Bishop’s head and puts the barrel of the gun to his neck.

  Ao (almost polite, but menacing) Righ’. Come on. Get up. Come on.

  The Bishop stands, and Ao pushes him towards the window.

  Ao Get back up there. Come on.

  The Bishop stands up on the chair and ’climbs’ back into his gown.

  Donkey (letting go of the gown) ’Bout time.

  John goes across to guard the bedroom door. Ao puts the gun to the Bishop’s gut.

  Ao (like a strict but fair teacher) In future when I tell you to shut up yeh shut up. Okay?

  The Bishop nods.

  Ao Good lad.

  Donkey (taking over from Ao, in front of the Bishop; gun to gut) Jaysis, I’m starvin’.

  Ao Ah shut up, Donkey, will yeh.

  John Maybe that’s wha’ they’re doin’: starvin’ us ou’.

  Donkey We can eat Fergus.

  They laugh half-heartedly.

  Donkey You wouldn’t mind; sure yeh wouldn’t, Fergus? You’d go straight up to heaven.

  Enter Mr Farrell. He crouches, stage-left; wearing a Marine’s helmet. Farrell (whisper-shouting; hissing) Aidan! -Aidan!!

  Donkey Ao; your da’s outside.

  This news surprises and excites the lads.

  Ao Da.

  Farrell Aidan!

  Ao Da. Where are yeh?

  Farrell Don’t shout, for fuck sake! —I’m over here. In Smith’s front.

  Ao looks carefully out the window, trying to spot Mr Farrell.

  Farrell (raising himself a bit) Here.

  Ao (half-laughing) What’re yeh wearin’ the helmet for?

  Farrell Camouflage.

  (Looking over his shoulder.) If they catch me I’m fucked. They think I’m at home.

  Ao How did yeh get ou’?

  Farrell I climbed ou’ onto the coalshed, an’ then I jumped onto Delap’s shed. Then I got down into their back. Then into Gaffney’s back. Then into Matthewses. No; I was in O‘Driscoll’s before I was in the Matthewses; isn’t tha’ righ’? (Impressing himself.) Then I went through Matthewses alley. Into their front. Then I legged it across into Prendergast’s front. An’ then in here.

  Ao Fair play to yeh.

  Donkey Ask him has he anny food.

  Farrell Aidan. —They’re after takin’ your mammy.

  Ao (upset and confused) Wha’!?

  Farrell The Yanks. They took her in for questionin’.

  Ao (lost) Why?

  Farrell Threw her into the back o’ one o’ their jeeps. I s‘pose she’s in Dollymount by now.

  Ao Why!?

  Farrell Ah, they had the two of us in the kitchen, yeh know.

  Askin’ us questions. About you an’ tha’. An’ then abou’ politics, yeh know. An’ your mammy —. Yeh know the way she is. She told them she voted for the Worker’s Party. They think she’s a fuckin’ communist.


  Ao Ma!?

  Farrell I told them tha’ she only voted for them cos she fancied tha’ Pat McCartan bastard. But, o’ course, no one ever listens to me. —I hope they don’t torture her.

  John What’s up, Ao.

  Ao — Me ma.

  Donkey (to John) The Yanks have Ao’s ma.

  Farrell She’ll be alrigh‘, I’d say. Yeh know her. She’ll be ironin’ their fuckin’ shirts an’ tellin’ them all abou’ her arthritis before they know wha’ hit them.

  Ao (very unconvinced) —Yeah.

  Farrell Annyway, look it; the real reason I came —

  (Hearing something.) Hang on. Somethin’s up.

  (Looking offstage and seeing action.) Somethin’s up. —I’ll get back to yeh.

  Exit Mr Farrell, crouched and in a hurry.

  Ao He says somethin’s happenin’.

  John (very scared) Oh shite!

  A helicopter is heard approaching.

  Donkey Here’s the fuckin’ Eye in the Sky again.

  The helicopter becomes louder. At the point when previously the noise began to fade, it now increases. The helicopter is descending over the houses. The lads look at the ceiling, scared; sensing that this, at last, is ‘it’. Gunfire and breaking glass are heard, and the Bishop jumps from the chair onto the bed. John quickly turns off the light, and the lads dive to the ground. John, in particular, is terrified. The gunfire continues and the helicopter comes nearer. Searchlights scan the bedroom walls and the sky above the room. John panics, and runs around the room, trying to escape from the light. He jumps onto the bed. Ao goes to pull him down. The Bisphop rushes to the door, and exits.

  Ao The Bishop!

  Ao and Donkey go after him. John, caught in the searchlight, covers his face and screams.

  Enter Ao and Donkey, hauling the Bishop. The gunfire etc. continues. Ao gets up on the bed to pull John to safety. Donkey and the Bishop fight on the floor. Ao and John fight on the bed.

  The drone of the helicopter wavers, then stops. The lads and the Bishop stop fighting, and listen. The screech of the helicopter falling from a height is heard, followed by an almighty explosion. Shimmering, vivid red light is seen downstage, left. The helicopter has crashed. Sirens are heard. The lads and the Bishop stay still for a while. They don’t understand what has happened.