Ditch
Page 7
Bug Just have to stay where they are.
Turner turns to Bug.
Turner I order you under the authority of this government to your feet.
Beat.
Bug I no longer recognize this government.
Turner leaves.
Bug There’s a man. Young. Never seen him before. There are men runnin’ fallin’ cryin’ all around him. He’s on his knees. Can’t take my eyes off a’ him. The earth ploughs up around him. None a’ it seems to matter. He’s waitin’ there on his knees. Then the sudden shock a’ it. Couple a’ instinctive jerkin’ movements before bein’ covered in earth.
Bug kneels, slowly hangs his head, waits.
Scene Eight
Plot of land. Late afternoon, the light is fading fast.
Mrs Peel enters holding a bag of seeds, Megan is with her.
Megan Why a’ we leavin’?
Mrs Peel No need for us to be here no more, is there?
Megan shakes her head.
Megan Don’t seem real.
Mrs Peel It’ll sink in soon enough.
Mrs Peel starts sowing seeds.
Megan There been a time when you and me were out here workin’, and you spotted a hare munchin’ away at your salad leaves. You snuck up behind and grabbed hold a’ it. I followed you inta the kitchen and you dropped a blow on its neck. Hare froze as straight as a fence post. You held it whilst I pulled back the skin, and you must a’ been hungry cause you chopped it up right there and then on the board inta chunks. I couldn’t stop lookin’ at them chunks cause they were movin’. Jitterin’, like they were cold or somethin’. You put them chunks inta the pan and they still jitterin’. You put the heat on ’em and I say to you: them chunks are still alive! You say: they dead they just don’t know it yet.
Beat.
Megan I feel like I’m alive and I just don’t know it yet.
Megan turns to Mrs Peel, she looks away.
Mrs Peel Let’s sow these seeds before it gets dark.
Mrs Peel kneels down and sows.
Megan Why a’ you sowin’ seeds?
Mrs Peel For the future.
Megan But we aint gonna be here.
Megan Who gonna tend to it?
Mrs Peel This soil don’t need us. Everythin’ that happens upon it – failure a’ crops, spreadin’ a diseases, flood, drought – don’t mean nothin’ to it. Only the sun matters. Where there’s light there will be life. S’long as the sunrises all will be.
Megan You should a’ said that a long time ago.
Mrs Peel I like keepin’ busy.
Beat. Megan stops sowing, sits back.
Megan I’m gonna have a baby, Mrs Peel.
Mrs Peel I know.
Megan I’m not gonna know how to do things.
Mrs Peel You’ll be fine.
Megan Most a’ things I know you told me.
Mrs Peel You gonna be good at it, Megan.
Megan looks at Mrs Peel.
Mrs Peel (Softly.) You’re gonna be good.
Megan (Beams.) You never said that before.
Mrs Peel No. I should a’.
Megan A’ we gonna leave together?
Mrs Peel If you want.
Megan We gonna stay together?
Beat.
Mrs Peel If you want.
Megan I do. Where we gonna go?
Beat.
Mrs Peel I spent my childhood in Cumbria. Used to go out on the Lakes with my father on weekends. We’d be out there in all weathers too, hail comin’ at us, thunder rollin’ in, bitin’ winds. We’d stop and eat sandwiches on a brow lookin’ out at them moors, at valleys covered in droves a’ heather, and fells . . . fells white with snow. If I think about the places I been, and I been my fair share, those white fells a’ the loveliest thing I ever seen. I’d like to go there. I’d like to see snow on the fells again.
Megan But there won’t be any.
Mrs Peel No. There won’t.
Megan But we could still go there.
Mrs Peel nods. She moves behind Megan.
Megan (Turns to Mrs Peel.) When a’ we gonna leave?
Mrs Peel We’ leavin’ at sunrise.
Megan Tomorrow?
Mrs Peel (Smiles.) Tomorrow.
Megan turns her beaming face round.
Mrs Peel raises the knife and slits Megan’s throat.
Mrs Peel stands motionless for a long time.
A long shear of light. A series of low concussions.
Mrs Peel kneels, takes the blade and slits her throat.
The sun sets. The sun rises.
A shoot grows out of the earth.
Blackout.
Ditch
Beth Steel was born in Nottingham and was part of the Invitation Group for Emerging Writers at the Royal Court and is currently a writer on attachment for both HighTide and Theatre503. Ditch is her first play.