by Frances Poet
GLASGOW ADAM (to the audience). Amira.
AMIRA. Samantha from Sex and the City?
GLASGOW ADAM. It’s true.
AMIRA. She’s Egyptian?
GLASGOW ADAM. She’s hiding in a pyramid because she doesn’t want to marry the man her mother has chosen for her and the gods save her.
AMIRA. And turn her into a mannequin?
GLASGOW ADAM. Exactly.
AMIRA. It sounds terrible.
GLASGOW ADAM. You would love it. It is an excellent film.
(Pulling at the dress.) It needs to come back this way.
AMIRA. It is snagging here on her tits.
GLASGOW ADAM. It will always snag – her nipples are like two metal doorbells.
AMIRA. They’re perfect. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want tits like hers.
GLASGOW ADAM is uncomfortable.
GLASGOW ADAM. You sound like The Manager…
AMIRA. ‘Virginity is curable.’
GLASGOW ADAM. Did he say that? Gross.
AMIRA. I called him on it once. The way he talks about women.
GLASGOW ADAM. What did he say?
AMIRA. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit deaf in this ear. Had a hot bitch moaning in it all night.’
GLASGOW ADAM. He told me to wear more make-up –touched me here and here.
AMIRA. He’s a fucking sleazebag. Ignore him – you’re perfect.
Embarrassed, GLASGOW ADAM pulls over a male mannequin.
GLASGOW ADAM. Just this one left to do.
AMIRA. Mr No-Cock. He won’t take long.
GLASGOW ADAM looks at AMIRA.
What?
GLASGOW ADAM. Nothing. Just. Talking to you is… like breathing in fresh air.
I feel like I could tell you stuff.
AMIRA. You could tell me anything.
A moment. AMIRA leans in and kisses GLASGOW ADAM, who breaks away.
GLASGOW ADAM. You shouldn’t do that.
AMIRA. Why?
GLASGOW ADAM. Somebody could see us. AMIRA. Is that what’s stopping you?
Nobody comes down here.
AMIRA kisses GLASGOW ADAM again, who kisses her back. They stop and sit for a moment. GLASGOW ADAM starts laughing a little.
GLASGOW ADAM. That was nice.
AMIRA. I know.
GLASGOW ADAM. That was really nice.
GLASGOW ADAM giggles.
AMIRA. Was that what you were going to tell me?
GLASGOW ADAM. No. I mean… partly maybe.
AMIRA. What then?
GLASGOW ADAM. Forget it.
AMIRA. Tell me.
GLASGOW ADAM. It’ll sound strange.
AMIRA. I just kissed you, didn’t I? I’m okay with strange.
GLASGOW ADAM. Okay. Agghhh. Um, okay. You ever seen the film, Alien?
AMIRA. Not another film!
GLASGOW ADAM. There is an alien that lives inside and bursts out and.
AMIRA. Yes.
GLASGOW ADAM. No. That’s not a good comparison. I sometimes feel like I… This is going to sound so weird but. Like I’d be a better boy than a girl.
AMIRA. That doesn’t sound weird.
GLASGOW ADAM. It doesn’t?
AMIRA. I’ve felt like that.
GLASGOW ADAM. Really?
AMIRA. We’re the same, you and me.
GLASGOW ADAM. You think so?
AMIRA. Girls like us, we should be boys. Staying out late, going wherever we want. Wearing whatever we want. Talking to whoever we want. Kissing whoever the fuck we want.
AMIRA leans in to kiss GLASGOW ADAM who leans in to her.
Who wouldn’t want to be a boy when they have it so good?
AMIRA kisses GLASGOW ADAM, who breaks away.
What’s wrong?
GLASGOW ADAM. Nothing.
(To the audience.) To screen – to reveal and to conceal. Both at once.
They Realised They Were Naked
GLASGOW ADAM. I’m in the storeroom with Amira again. After weeks of secret kissing. It’s late. There’s no window and the yellow electric lights buzz down on us. It’s stuffy and oppressive but, with the door locked, we’re safe here.
GLASGOW ADAM is dressing a male mannequin. AMIRA tries to get GLASGOW ADAM’s attention, being playful and provocative with the sale clothes. She undresses the female mannequin in the style of a striptease. GLASGOW ADAM joins in with the male mannequin. It is light-hearted and sexy. They kiss.
Is the door locked?
AMIRA. Relax.
GLASGOW ADAM looks back towards the door to check they are safe.
Stop looking at the door. Nobody’s here but us.
GLASGOW ADAM. We still have lots to do.
AMIRA. There’s time.
GLASGOW ADAM caresses AMIRA’s face. In return, AMIRA explores GLASGOW ADAM’s face with her hands. It is tender and intimate. She moves her hands down to GLASGOW ADAM’s chest. GLASGOW ADAM catches her hands aggressively.
GLASGOW ADAM. Don’t touch me there. I’ll cut your hands.
AMIRA retreats, dressing one of the mannequins.
Sorry. I’m sorry. Amira?
AMIRA. You’re so conservative.
GLASGOW ADAM. What?
AMIRA. Just because we can’t kiss out on the street doesn’t mean they are right. If we were born in a different place and time, we could get married. Even here in Egypt, in Ancient times we could be married. You’re ashamed of what you are.
GLASGOW ADAM. What am I?
AMIRA. You’re the one who likes words. You choose. In the West, they say ‘lesbian’. We’re lesbians.
GLASGOW ADAM. That’s not what I am.
AMIRA. You prefer ‘Shezoz’? What we do is not from ‘abnormality’. I see the words on my brother’s newspaper –I should believe we are part of an ‘emergency disease’? We are two girls who love each other, not a threat to the Nation of Egypt.
GLASGOW ADAM (whispered). I’m not a girl.
AMIRA laughs, stops. Laughs again.
AMIRA. You look like a girl to me.
GLASGOW ADAM retreats.
(As a flirtation.) I like how you look. I like your curves. I like your skin. I like how it feels when we kiss. I like your softness against my face, your tongue in my mouth.
AMIRA is close to GLASGOW ADAM now. They kiss. GLASGOW ADAM steps out of the kiss. AMIRA remains in it, frozen like a mannequin.
GLASGOW ADAM (to the audience). It’s because she tastes so good. That’s why I don’t hear his footsteps. Why I don’t hear the door pushed open. Why I don’t see him. The Manager. Standing there. His shirt undone a button too far, his chest hair damp with sweat, rising and falling as he catches his breath. And on his face… a smile. He’s enjoying what he’s watching. He knows the power it will give him.
GLASGOW ADAM steps back into the kiss. AMIRA, seeing the imagined form of THE MANAGER, pulls away in fright. She points towards GLASGOW ADAM.
AMIRA. She kissed me. I… I’m not.
(To GLASGOW ADAM.) You disgust me.
AMIRA runs away and becomes EGYPTIAN ADAM once more.
GLASGOW ADAM. Amira?
EGYPTIAN ADAM. Just me and The Manager now. Nothing spoken. He takes a step forward and I flinch. He laughs.
GLASGOW ADAM becomes THE MANAGER.
THE MANAGER. I’m not going to hurt you.
Give me your hand.
EGYPTIAN ADAM tentatively holds out a hand. THE MANAGER takes it and rubs it against himself. EGYPTIAN ADAM pulls away.
I’m helping you. You won’t want girls when you’ve felt what I can give you.
EGYPTIAN ADAM goes to slap him. THE MANAGER catches EGYPTIAN ADAM’s arm.
You need to be careful. The police won’t lock you up if they arrest you. Men, they lock up. Women, they cure. You want a gang of four or five policemen to cure you, or me? Who do you think will be more gentle?
THE MANAGER pulls EGYPTIAN ADAM towards him and gives a rough kiss.
Good girl. We can have some fun, you and me.
THE MANAGER be
comes GLASGOW ADAM once again. Disgusted, wipes away the make-up MARYAM applied.
Cursed is the Ground
EGYPTIAN ADAM gasps as if waking from a dream.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. It is the middle of the night. In my dream, I am trying to run after Amira. But when I look down, I have no legs. Instead I have a giant scaly tail of a fish. I look like the pictures on the adverts telling people to visit Alexandria – The Mermaid of the Mediterranean.
I get up to wash the sweat from my face. I have legs again but the face that looks back at me in the mirror is wrong. I scrape back my hair and put on a baseball cap. I pull on my father’s jacket. I roll up a sock and place it in my trousers and I look long and hard.
It’s hard to get enough air to breathe when I first step out onto the street. It’s so dark, I’ve no shadow to protect me. What if somebody sees me?
What if I am stopped?
I need a name.
I am… Peter Parker. I am Bruce Wayne. I am Harvey Dent.
‘Hi, I’m Harvey.’
My ancestors feared the two parts of the soul losing its body, its shadow, its name but my heart is soaring like Ba, the human-headed bird of my soul.
I pass a group of guys. They smell of booze and sweat. I speed up to pass them but one of them shouts at me.
GLASGOW ADAM becomes the STRANGER.
STRANGER. Oi!
EGYPTIAN ADAM. My heart is in my throat. I keep walking. These men, if they realised what I am, could kill me.
STRANGER. Oi! You.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. I turn to look.
STRANGER. You deaf or what?
EGYPTIAN ADAM. Sorry I didn’t hear… (Adopting a persona.) I’ve had a hot bitch moaning in my ear all night.
The STRANGER is surprised by this, laughs.
They cheer at me. They like Harvey. Harvey likes them.
Amira has changed me. The truth of who I am is bubbling up in me like a volcano. The world I live in is dangerous but so am I.
Music blasts out, a dangerous and loud beat. It’s party time for an emboldened EGYPTIAN ADAM. This feels great. Friends everywhere – hi-fives, handshakes, man-hugs. Fitting in with people through mutual obliteration. But things begin to go bad. Paranoia creeps in for EGYPTIAN ADAM. The friends stop being friends. Their contact becomes more physical. EGYPTIAN ADAM is getting bumped up against, groped. People don’t like that they can’t place EGYPTIAN ADAM’s gender. We might even hear ‘Shezoz’ ,’Ya wad ya bet’, ‘Hey boy, girl’,’It’s got breasts’, ‘Has it got a pussy?‘ It’s starting to feel really threatening. EGYPTIAN ADAM stumbles to the floor is dragged to a dark corner. ‘I found a pussy’, ‘It’s a woman’, ‘Let me see’, ‘Is it wet?’
Woe to Those Who Quarrel with Their Maker
GLASGOW ADAM turns off the music and becomes MALAK, Adam’s dad. EGYPTIAN ADAM, startled and broken, stumbles into him.
MALAK. Did you lose your key?
EGYPTIAN ADAM. I’ll pay for a new one.
MALAK looks at EGYPTIAN ADAM, who feels self-conscious, removes cap and anything obviously masculine.
Go back to bed, Baba.
MALAK. I wasn’t in bed. I couldn’t sleep.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. ‘Cause of me?
MALAK. Maybe. Mostly ‘cause your mama is talking in her sleep.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. So you tiptoed out of the room? Mustn’t disturb Mama, even if she disturbs you.
MALAK. She needs her sleep.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. And you? What do you need? Creeping around in the middle of the night in your slippers and gown, like an old woman.
MALAK. I need you to calm down.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. Go on then. Tell me how I dishonour you. Your daughter out on the street at this time. Tell me how dangerous it is.
MALAK. I’ll make you a cup of anise tea.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. Fucking tea. Doesn’t work.
MALAK. I think you need some sleep.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. Shout at me!
Forbid me from going out. Teach me how to behave like a daughter should.
MALAK. There’s no need for shouting.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. Protect me! Isn’t that what a father’s supposed to do?
EGYPTIAN ADAM breaks down a little here, vulnerable and distressed from the sexual assault so recently experienced.
It’s your job to keep me safe!
MALAK. Shhhh, your mama’s sleeping.
This disregard for the pain in front of him, and preoccupation with Mama, wounds EGYPTIAN ADAM deeply.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. You aren’t a man. You’re weak like a woman. I don’t dishonour you. You dishonour me.
EGYPTIAN ADAM spits in MALAK’s face, who impulsively strikes back with a slap. A moment. Both shocked. EGYPTIAN ADAM recovers first and starts a slow clap. MALAK shakes his head and goes to leave. He stops and says quietly.
MALAK. I don’t think you should buy a new key.
EGYPTIAN ADAM realises the line has been crossed.
MALAK becomes GLASGOW ADAM once more.
I was Afraid and I Hid
GLASGOW ADAM. I am sleeping on the floor of a run-down apartment in Bakos. Not a part of Alexandria they write about in the guidebooks. ‘Visitors mustn’t miss the exotic sights of this charming apartment building – entertainment includes late-night raids on drug-dealing neighbours, murder bingo and frequent visits from local celebrity, Mr Rat, who will scratch his autograph into your skin on request.’
I am here because I am hiding. From Amira’s brother. I don’t know what she told him but his friends delivered the message that I disgust and frighten him. He is frightened, not of me, but of what he will do if he sees me. He doesn’t want to be a murderer. That’s something I suppose.
EGYPTIAN ADAM becomes MARYAM.
MARYAM. Tell me you’re not sleeping here, princess?
GLASGOW ADAM. Just for a couple of nights.
MARYAM. It’s either very dirty or it’s a new style of decoration I’ve not read about.
GLASGOW ADAM. It’s not so bad.
MARYAM. It’s not so bad for an animal. No human could call this place home.
GLASGOW ADAM. Where should I call home? Will Baba let me come home?
MARYAM lowers her eyes and does not answer.
But if you asked him… He’d do anything for you.
MARYAM. I have food for you.
GLASGOW ADAM. Did you bring me some baba ganoush?
MARYAM. No. Some of my kebda eskandarani.
GLASGOW ADAM. Ah, Mama!
MARYAM. It’s good for your skin and it’ll make your hair glossy.
GLASGOW ADAM. Liver makes me gag.
MARYAM. Not the way I cook it.
GLASGOW ADAM. Especially the way you cook it.
MARYAM. Eat a mouthful for your mama. Your father always says it puts hairs on his chest.
GLASGOW ADAM. If it’ll put hairs on my chest…
MARYAM (with an edge). If a woman sees a hair on her chest, she should pluck it out.
Same goes for the chin. I’ve taught you that.
(Softer now.) I wish somebody would tell your auntie…
GLASGOW ADAM reluctantly opens the food and takes a mouthful.
It’s good? See. You’re a good girl.
GLASGOW ADAM. It’s not so bad. If you swallow without letting it touch your tongue.
MARYAM (teasing). How did I raise such a rude daughter?
A beat. GLASGOW ADAM wants to confide in her.
GLASGOW ADAM. I’m sorry that I’m not what you raised me to be.
MARYAM. Don’t be silly. You’re my perfect princess.
GLASGOW ADAM. But Mama –
MARYAM doesn’t want to hear.
MARYAM. Your cousin has had a little boy.
GLASGOW ADAM. That’s great news. I want to meet him. I’ll tickle his little toes.
MARYAM. I don’t think Farouk will allow it.
GLASGOW ADAM. He doesn’t approve of tickling?
MARYAM. He’s very angry about the rift between you and your father.
What about you? You’ve said nothing but if you wanted me home…
MARYAM. The baby’s very ugly. I hold him and kiss him but I find it hard to look at him. Very fat and very ugly. But your auntie married Asif so I don’t think she minds ugly things –
GLASGOW ADAM. Inside me, Mama. Inside me is –
MARYAM. Is there a window in this apartment that isn’t cracked? Every pane. Like somebody has declared war on windows.
GLASGOW ADAM. Mama, please, I have something I need to say.
MARYAM (very intense). No! I don’t want those words.
GLASGOW ADAM. But I need to tell you the truth of –
MARYAM. Just lie! Just… lie, princess.
The Tree of Knowledge
The two ADAMS sit, despondent.
GLASGOW ADAM. If I don’t say it out loud, I will burst.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. Write it.
GLASGOW ADAM. On paper? Somebody will see.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. On the computer. Type it as a question.
GLASGOW ADAM. And press send? Are you mad? I might as well stand at the window and shout it out. People have been arrested for less.
EGYPTIAN ADAM. The woman who lent me this laptop described the internet as a brain. To type a question is just to have a thought, an electric spark in a global brain of ideas.
GLASGOW ADAM. Can I be punished for a thought?
EGYPTIAN ADAM opens the laptop.
GLASGOW ADAM types a question, which appears on the screens.
CAN THE SOUL OF A MAN BE TRAPPED IN A WOMAN?
The question sits for a moment.
The TV screens begin to flicker, sounds of static and distorted voices surge. Faces flicker on to the screen. Words become discernible.
Here are the faces of people who dare to share themselves on the internet. They are experience, they are knowledge, they are the understanding ADAM has never had.
Fragments of testimony from trans people across the world morph into something musical. A global choir of experience and knowledge. It is beautiful but there is disharmony too. The many voices are overwhelming.
GLASGOW ADAM is transfixed.
I. Am. Real.
Fearfully and Wonderfully Made
GLASGOW ADAM. It is 2010. I am in Glasgow. I am an asylum seeker! I have been placed in this room. I live, eat and sleep here. The single window is painted shut and the dirty sky I see through it matches the colour of the walls. I have a fridge, a microwave, a toilet and sink, a bed that hurts to sleep on so I choose the floor and a TV on which only Channel 5 works.