Boys

by Ella Hickson

  Beat.

  BENNY. Sophie was out last night.

  MACK. Yeah?

  BENNY. Drinking – dancing.

  MACK. Sounds like a laugh.

  BENNY. No – the kind that makes you think someone’s probably a bit, you know… broken.

  MACK. Could mean either though, couldn’t it? Could mean fine.

  BENNY. Could mean falling apart.

  Beat.

  MACK stands up abruptly from his chair, it scrapes along the floor – MACK grabs as many of the rubbish bags as he can carry and storms out of the kitchen – the door slams closed behind him. MACK returns to grab another handful.

  What are you doing?

  MACK. Moving it.

  BENNY. Where to? You can’t put it on the stairwell the other tenants will /

  MACK. I don’t want to sit and look at it.

  BENNY. I’ll call the council.

  MACK. Fuck – I wish we’d thought of that when they stopped collecting. Will you ring the rest of the city at the same time and just let them know that they’d been ignoring the blindingly fucking obvious?

  MACK kicks the door open and throws the bags out of it into the hall.

  MACK continues to move it all – aggressively – until all the bags are out of the kitchen.

  BENNY gets out his phone and makes a phone call – the automated voice comes on and BENNY confuses it for a human.

  BENNY. Hello – oh.

  He sits on the phone – he is clearly been asked to wait, we can hear the tinny sound of ‘Greensleeves’ or something similar.

  MACK exits.

  BENNY sits. The sun rises – the tinny music plays.

  Scene Two

  Hot orange summer sun cuts across the dust that lies thick in the air.

  There is no birdsong; there is no breath – the heat sits.

  CAM enters.

  BENNY watches from on top of the fridge.

  CAM wears his tails ready for performance.

  CAM holds his violin.

  CAM checks for anyone in the kitchen, but he fails to see BENNY.

  CAM walks over to the far wall and stands with his face to it, his back to the room.

  CAM takes a large breath.

  CAM tries to play – he is too nervous – he cannot.

  CAM lets his violin and bow fall to his side.

  CAM bangs his head against the wall three times.

  CAM takes another large breath.

  CAM lifts his bow and his violin.

  CAM plays half a note, fails.

  CAM bangs his head against the wall.

  CAM. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  Beat.

  CAM takes a pill out of his pocket and places it in the palm of his hand he looks at it – he is on the verge of taking it…

  BENNY. What you doing?

  CAM. Fuck, Benny, you scared the shit out of me.

  BENNY. Shouldn’t you be off by now?

  CAM. My palms are sweating – my fucking /

  BENNY. Don’t take that.

  CAM. My room’s too fucking hot; Mack’s playing his music full fucking volume – outside everyone’s in the sun, having a great time –

  BENNY. Go to the college or the concert hall – they’ll be quiet.

  CAM. Stinks of fucking rubbish everywhere.

  BENNY. You alright, Cam?

  CAM. You’ll all be having a party whilst I’m gone; getting the beers in.

  BENNY. And you’ll be making history.

  CAM. All I can see out my window is fucking students – throwing flour and eggs all over each other. You seen how warm it is out there?

  BENNY. You should go, mate, you don’t want to miss it.

  Beat.

  CAM. Don’t I?

  Beat.

  BENNY. Course you don’t.

  CAM. You just jump through the hoops and it works out – exams, degree – job – there’s a path. There’s no maybe – maybe not – or tonight’s the fucking night. All on one moment, all on one person – fucking…

  BENNY. You’ve got instructions.

  CAM. What?

  BENNY. The music – that’s instructions, isn’t it. Don’t get that in an exam. (Beat.) Nice up here – like being above everything – you can control it, calmer – cooler somehow.

  CAM. Cooler?

  BENNY. Yeah.

  CAM. You’re on top of a fucking fridge, Benny.

  BENNY. The top of a fridge is actually… I thought you were meant to be leaving?

  CAM. I’ll go in a minute.

  BENNY. You’re going to be late.

  CAM. I’ve got ages. You want a drink?

  BENNY. No thanks.

  CAM. Come on – have a drink?

  BENNY. I’m alright.

  CAM picks up a ball and chucks it at BENNY, BENNY catches it.

  CAM. Come on – we’ll chuck it about a bit? It’ll help me calm down.

  BENNY. What time are you meant to be there?

  CAM. Don’t know.

  BENNY. Cam?

  CAM (snaps). What?

  BENNY. Go.

  BENNY throws the ball back.

  CAM. It’s easy for you – you’ve got a piece of paper saying you know it and that’s that. Imagine if tonight I could just walk on stage and in front of that whole fucking crowd and just roll out a piece of paper and go – look – this says I can do it so there we go. And then everyone cheers and claps.

  BENNY. It’s just pressure – there’s always going to be /

  CAM. Exactly fucking right – it’s always going to be there.

  BENNY. You don’t get to be excellent without there being pressure. It’s a pay-off.

  CAM. Who says I want to be excellent?

  BENNY. Fifteen years of eight hours’ practice a day.

  Beat.

  CAM. There’s this guy coming, tonight – he’s a Russian virtuoso called Viktashev; he’s come up from London. He’s pretty much it – you know? The big balls.

  BENNY. Nice.

  CAM. And he sends me this email the other day – it’s like two pages long, saying he’s heard my stuff and how now is a vital time for me. How there’s this competition in Belgium; it’s called the Queen Elizabeth and it’s, you know –

  BENNY. The big balls.

  CAM. Aye – and this Viktashev guy won it when he was nineteen, youngest ever – and he wants me to go and break his title. He says he’s going to ship me over to Vienna and train me – just me and him. And he keeps going on and on about how there’s this window, this right age – and if you can get through it – you’ll go somewhere great but if you miss it – you won’t get it back.

  BENNY. You got to not listen to all that /

  CAM. And then at the end he writes this little story about how the lowliest and youngest inmates in Russian prisons tattoo stars on their knees.

  BENNY. Why?

  CAM. To say they won’t kneel to anyone.

  BENNY. Bit much that.

  CAM. I’m meant to do what he tells me and not do what anyone tells me – you know what I mean?

  BENNY. Yeah, it’s a bit much. Got to do it for you I guess.

  CAM. If I was doing it for me I’d stay here and have a pint with you.

  BENNY. Right. (Beat.) Can’t waste it though, Cam.

  CAM. Why not? My choice, isn’t it?

  BENNY. Right now I reckon I know more than I ever will again. Iteration, deconstruction, reification, homogeneity /

  CAM. Show-off.

  BENNY. I’m never going to use those words ever again. So I might as well not know ’em. It’s a waste. You though, you’ll go on getting better and better and you could be – great, you know? Like – really really get to the top of something – get close to – inch of God.

  CAM. What?

  BENNY. That’s what my dad used to call it, ‘inch of God’, the extra inch that takes you from great to – really being the dog’s fucking bollocks. You got a shot at that. Not to be sniffed at.

  CAM. Don’t sniff at the dog’s
bollocks?

  BENNY. Do not, Cameron.

  CAM. You can keep learning words – keep studying.

  BENNY. Thanks.

  CAM. PhD – teach or something.

  BENNY. It’s all criticism though… not sure that’s something you want to be great at, is it?

  CAM. Come up with your own ideas can’t you?

  BENNY. What’s the point in following something hardly anyone else can follow? I reckon you just end up somewhere no one else is ever going to visit.

  CAM. Hardly anyone is great at the violin.

  BENNY. But everyone’s got ears.

  CAM. I don’t want to do it.

  BENNY. You have to.

  CAM. I don’t want to.

  BENNY. I don’t know if that really matters.

  CAM. What?

  BENNY. Bigger than you somehow; maybe.

  CAM. It’s my fucking fingers.

  BENNY. You believe in God, Cam?

  CAM. No.

  BENNY. Not even in primary, like nativities.

  CAM. Snow.

  BENNY. What?

  CAM. Imagine, a bit of snow right now – how good would that be?

  BENNY. There’s no snow in the nativity.

  CAM. It’s about Christmas.

  BENNY. It’s Bethlehem, it’s red.

  CAM. Alright, God squad.

  BENNY. That’s just geography. I miss it sometimes.

  CAM. Geography?

  BENNY. The idea of something above you. I used to imagine him just sitting up there at night-time, made you feel a bit safer.

  CAM. You don’t believe in him any more?

  BENNY. Don’t think so.

  CAM. Why not?

  BENNY. Learnt too much, I guess.

  CAM. Can’t you just decide?

  BENNY. It’s like you get two books by well-known people, credible people, out the library and they say opposite things but they’re both meant to be right. What are you meant to do about that?

  CAM. Choose one.

  BENNY. Just like that?

  CAM. Yeah – why not?

  BENNY. Then you always know you chose it, so it’s just a choice rather than a knowing.

  CAM. What’s the difference?

  BENNY. You chose it – so you know can just un-choose it – flimsy. It’s one option but it could have just as much been the other one, it’s like TVs inside TVs – they eat each other – like all the facts sort of chase each other, round and round – all the articles and books and blogs and papers and journals and they just keep running round and round and – You remember Little Black Sambo –

  CAM. Sounds a wee bit /

  BENNY. It is – but that’s not the point. It’s this story where this little kid meets these tigers and he gives them all his best most colourful clothes so that they won’t eat him and they like those fancy clothes so much they chase and chase each other so hard that they just melt into butter.

  CAM. Tigers turn into butter?

  BENNY. I guess I just miss – you remember when you had a question, any question easy or hard, you know – what’s ham through to why are we alive – and you knew the absolute best place to get a right answer was your dad.

  CAM. Yeah.

  BENNY. When your dad was like Google but better and with hugs. (Beat.) You’ll be alright. You’ve got to go though, you got to try – it matters.

  CAM. Can’t I choose not to.

  BENNY. You’ve got to go – one of us – has fucking got to – I won’t let you give up. I won’t let this flat make you give up.

  Pause.

  CAM. I’m sorry, Benny.

  BENNY. I just think you should try, that’s all.

  Beat.

  CAM. But what if I do?

  BENNY. What? What if you try? Then you’ll know you did your best.

  CAM. Exactly.

  Pause.

  BENNY. You’re going to miss it.

  CAM. Sometimes think I’d be much happier if I’d never picked the fucking thing up.

  CAM picks up his violin and starts to pack it away, BENNY watches silently.

  BENNY. Knock ’em dead?

  CAM nods.

  BENNY nods.

  CAM exits.

  BENNY looks at the kitchen, rolls his sleeves up and defiantly heads over to the half-emptied cupboard. With confidence he begins to put the things into a bin bag – he is full of confidence when –

  CAM enters.

  CAM. I cannie go.

  BENNY. What?

  CAM. The whole of the fucking landing is stacked up – I can’t get out! I can’t get out down the stairwell.

  BENNY. What? It’s not that many bags – it was only /

  BENNY exits and checks the front door.

  (Off.) Mack!

  CAM opens a beer – looks at it – doesn’t drink it.

  BENNY re-enters.

  How did that happen?

  CAM. I don’t know.

  MACK enters.

  MACK. What?

  CAM. I can’t get out the front door for all that shite you put out here.

  MACK. Come on – it was only a few bags.

  BENNY. He needs to go.

  CAM. I have to go, I’m late!

  MACK. Well – move it then.

  CAM. I can’t get past it to move it, it’s at waist height.

  MACK. That’s not all ours.

  CAM. No shit, Sherlock.

  MACK. Well then.

  BENNY. They clearly dumped it because we – you – did.

  MACK. I put ours out there; there was more than enough room to get past.

  CAM. Mack, it is a wall – I’d have to wade through it to be able to move it and I’m in a fucking suit already sweating my balls off, I shift that lot I’m going to stink like a rat’s arse.

  Beat.

  BENNY. We’ll help you.

  MACK. Will we?

  BENNY. I’ll help you carry it.

  CAM. Thank you.

  MACK shrugs. The kitchen door is wedged open and bags start flying in – CAM and MACK passing what seems like an endless stream of rubbish into the kitchen, bag after bag – in they come, BENNY works hard to try and find space for them but they start really taking up space, the kitchen starts to feel much smaller.

  BENNY. Go on – go. We’ll sort it.

  CAM. Thanks, Ben.

  BENNY. Come back a superstar.

  CAM. Do my best.

  CAM goes to leave.

  MACK. Cam?

  CAM. Yeah.

  MACK. Good luck, man.

  CAM. Thanks.

  CAM exits.

  MACK and BENNY stand and look at the rubbish.

  MACK. Council didn’t answer then?

  BENNY. It was automated.

  MACK. Really?

  MACK nods.

  BENNY. Have you got something you want to say?

  MACK. No, no.

  BENNY. It is their problem; I mean it is their job to sort this out.

  MACK. Okay.

  BENNY. You pay for it to get picked up and the council pick it up.

  MACK. Right.

  MACK goes to make himself a cup of tea.

  BENNY. I’ll put it back out then.

  MACK. We don’t.

  BENNY. What?

  MACK. We don’t pay for it. We’re students, we don’t pay council tax.

  Beat.

  BENNY. Cam and Timp aren’t students.

  MACK. They don’t pay, that’s why they live with us. That and cos we’re fucking lovely to look at.

  BENNY. Yeah fine – but we’re still entitled to the same services.

  MACK. Entitled?

  BENNY. Deserve – we’re /

  MACK. We’re – ?

  BENNY. We’re going to give it back… soon.

  MACK. Oh right. Okay. Here’s to hoping it gets better soon.

  BENNY. What’s the other option then?

  MACK. Not saying there is one.

  BENNY. You think we should get rid of it ourselves?

  MACK. C
an’t see how we’d do that.

  BENNY. Then what?

  MACK. Then nothing.

  BENNY. If we don’t ‘deserve’ to get it picked up and we can’t get rid of it ourselves – Mack? Then what are you offering, what are you – suggesting? You think we should eat it, fucking breathe it in?

  MACK. Calm down, Benny.

  BENNY. Stop acting like you’ve got a fucking answer.

  MACK. No – no – I haven’t got any answers, Benny, none at all.

  BENNY picks up several bags of rubbish and takes them out of the front door.

  MACK makes his cup of tea, cleanly – almost rhythmically – from ‘off’ we can hear BENNY in the stairwell, he is having an altercation with someone. As first we can hear him speaking calmly – and then it bursts into a much larger, more aggressive argument. MACK listens to the argument and leans, nonchalantly against the counter.

  BENNY comes back in with the bags that he was carrying.

  BENNY looks at MACK.

  BENNY puts the bags down.

  Tea?

  BENNY doesn’t respond.

  Bicky?

  BENNY. No.

  MACK. I thought you were going to put them /

  BENNY. Guy opposite’s on the landing – he said I couldn’t dump it out there.

  MACK. Really?

  BENNY. It’s a common stairwell.

  MACK. True.

  BENNY. You want to live like this?

  MACK. It’s just trash.

  BENNY. It’s crawling – we can’t get it out – we can’t dump on the street, we’ll get fined, we can’t put it in the stairwell and no one is coming to pick it up – we’re going to fucking drown. I don’t want it in here. I shouldn’t have to live with other people’s crap all over me – we didn’t make this mess!

  MACK. I think you’re getting things out of proportion, Benny.

  BENNY. Am I?

  MACK. I think you should breathe.

  BENNY. I think you should try and be less of a selfish cunt.

  MACK (laughing). You’re the one that wants to post it back through people’s letter boxes, piece by piece, Benny.

  BENNY. I’m going to ring the landlord.

  MACK. Oh yeah?

  BENNY. They have to do something, it’s a health hazard.

  MACK. No they don’t have to do anything – don’t you see?

  BENNY. No I fucking don’t!

  MACK. How many students do you think are moving out this week? You think they’re going to let it cost them to move it, you kidding?

  BENNY. We’ll call the police.

  MACK. Look out the fucking window – How many houses do you see? Hm? Ringing the council, ringing the landlord, going to have a gentle word with the neighbours – if there was a solution do you not think someone would have thought of it over a week ago when they decided to stop picking this shit up and it started rotting under our own fucking noses?