By Niharika Goswami
Characters:
1) HERSHEL:- A man in his early fifties; gray hair neatly combed; wearing a white vestment and a muffler with embroidered butterflies; amicable in nature; enjoys his solitude, seldom involves himself in worldly affairs outside his church; spends his days in reading and sunbathing in winters.
2) CHILD UNKNOWN- A boy, nearly eight years old; chubby cheeks yet slender muscles which a cheap sweater was covering; messy hair; bare feet, selling news papers by the back street.
3) A CONSTABLE:- Young, in his late twenties; in charge of the bloodhounds, holding their leashes; with his Khaki on, appears last minute on the scene.
THE SCENE—
Outskirts of the town; bottom of the hill. The present. A meager park; few meter away from the church court yard, you can easily spot the steeples on the other side of the rear fences of the park. There are two wooden benches in close proximity, facing the exit of the park. Indeed a crowded suburb; but the evening wind is kinda crisp in this late autumn, not many people are there except a few passerby and some vendors antsy for
customers. The crimson of the sky is setting a golden hue over the suburb.
Curtain rises~~
[ HERSHEL is sitting on one bench, facing left of the stage reading his whatever favorite book, immersed in his own world. Weak white noises in
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the background, those of the street. The
UNKNOWN CHILD enters the scene. ]
CHILD UNKNOWN: Sir, what are you reading? HERSHEL: (snaps out of his stupor, he peeks out from the frame of book) Oh… It’s a book! CHILD UNKNOWN: (titters meekly) I know it’s a book. What is it about?
HERSHEL: (finally shutting the book) It tells about divine justice, no evil can last forever…yeah not meant for kiddos. (smiles)
CHILD UNKNOWN: (curiously staring at the book on his lap) hmm.. I don’t know what it is, but it does sound interesting. You were glued though. HERSHEL: You think so?
CHILD UNKNOWN: I do.
HERSHEL: Well.. what do you do, why here all alone? CHILD UNKNOWN: You see that stall, (pointing) I sell newspapers there.
HERSHEL: (looks at the direction he pointed) I see… What about your friends? Do you have any? (insisting the boy to take a seat beside him) Come here!
CHILD UNKNOWN: (hesitates…) I.. I sell news papers.
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will you buy it? I have this last journal… HERSHEL: (smiles and ruffles his hair) Sure. CHILD UNKNOWN: (offering the news paper) Here. Take It.
HERSHEL: Thank you. I will pay.
CHILD UNKNOWN: (a brief pause)Don’t…. Just take it. I have sold enough for the day. The last one is for you.
HERSHEL: (surprised) For me? Oh… kid. Then do you need anything?
CHILD UNKNOWN: (takes a seat beside HERSHEL, His bare feet does not touch the ground) Can you talk?
HERSHEL: Sure can. What do you wanna talk about? CHILD UNKNOWN: (staring at HERSHEL’S face) I have friends.
HERSHEL: What?
CHILD UNKNOWN: (turning away) You asked earlier. I… do have friends.
HERSHEL: Oh… where are they?
CHILD UNKNOWN: They are there too.. like me. With me. You will see them too. May be not today, tomorrow… but you will see.
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HERSHEL: And your parents? Do you live with them? CHILD UNKNOWN: (looking clueless) I don’t have them. HERSHEL: (eye softening, pats his head) I am sorry, had no idea….
CHILD UNKNOWN: Don’t be.
CHILD UNKNOWN: The butterflies… (dazed) HERSHEL: I did not hear you. What did you say ? CHILD UNKNOWN: (hesitantly points towards HERSHEL’S muffler)
HERSHEL: Oh… It’s cross stitched butterflies.. Did it catch your eyes? You like it?
CHILD UNKNOWN: (nodes)
HERSHEL: Shall I give it to you?
CHILD UNKNOWN: (surprised) Why…?
HERSHEL: (doffing his muffler, puts it around the little boy)
CHILD UNKNOWN: ….
HERSHEL: It looks better on you. (smiles)
CHILD UNKNOWN: Why… did you do that? HERSHEL: Because, it looks good on you. Moreover I have many. My daughter sewed it herself, four of them, and didn’t you just gift me a journal? You don’t want me to pay, but I have nothing
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much else to give you. So don’t worry about it. (picks up the book again)
CHILD UNKNOWN: Do you want to… scoot me away? (sadly pouts his thin chapped lips)
HERSHEL: (almost shocked) What made you think like that, kiddo???
CHILD UNKNOWN: Well… you repaid me already. Picked up your book, isn’t it how you people get rid of us? (gaze straight and firm)
HERSHEL: I guess, you misinterpreted it, kid. I never Intended to brush you off (puts the book down) It’s just.. days get lonelier once you get old and such habits are formed it seems, drowning myself in books and prayers seem much like it… (voice trails off)
CHILD UNKNOWN: Prayers… does it take away your pain?
HERSHEL: (leans back folding his hands into chest) Huh.. It is supposed to, though shattered clouds never give you any rain… (looks at the crimson above him)
CHILD UNKNOWN: (confused) What?
HERSHEL: We worship, because we believe. We believe
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In nature, love and the… cosmos; they are infinite. Earthly beings need hope to survive upon, that’s why we choose to believe… we worship what might be greater than we’re. CHILD UNKNOWN: Do I…have to believe too? HERSHEL: (stares at the boy for a minute, then averts his gaze to the book lying beside him)…. You don’t have to, until you have to.
CHILD UNKNOWN: (sounds dejected) You are a priest. You know it all...but I don’t know any of it, since it doesn’t matter to me… you see I love butterflies, their frail petal like wings, roaming in the breeze from each bud
to the other… they are frail, but still shine without care. I used to watch them, from the only window we had, together with my brothers.. We wanted to roam like that. We.. we just.. (sobs)
HERSHEL: You are right… little buddy. You should not care, if the world does not care about you. (helplessly pats the boy’s back)
CHILD UNKNOWN: Sir… do you believe in me? (looks at HERSHEL with pleading eyes)
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HERSHEL: I do.
CHILD UNKNOWN: You… need to..
HERSHEL: Stop sobbing first kid. You have enough time. I will listen to you…
CHILD UNKNOWN: The Church at the summit, North Street uphill… it was our home, and we chose to believe it… but we never got to.. to.. roam like those butterflies. The eggshells just broke one day… (voice desperate and weak) HERSHEL: (stands up and squats down on his knees before the CHILD) Okay, calm down now and tell me what happened. I will help you. [ The sky is running out of crimson and gold; the few passerby coming across the pair stares at them; gives some weird and concerned looks, but doesn’t interfere, which both the UNKNOWN CHILD and HERSHEL is unaware of. ] CHILD UNKNOWN: You’ll help me…? (tears rolling down the cheeks)
HERSHEL: But you need to tell me everything you had been through… got it? (voice gentle but worried) CHILD UNKNOWN: You need to hurry sir… my friends are waiting for me….(looks down at the cross
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stitched muffler around his own neck, tracing it with his slender fingers)… so that, we can finally roam free under the holy sky…. (voice trails off) HERSHEL: (stands up in a hurry and picks up his cell phone from the coat pocket) I will call the police now!
CHILD UNKNOWN: Let me talk… (offers his palm out) HERSHEL: You.. sure? (hesitantly)
CHILD UNKNOWN: (nodes)
HERSHEL: (giving over the phone, he stands by) CHILD UNKNOWN: (dials some numbers and put it over his ear)
CHILD UNKNOWN: ……..
HERSHEL: ……..
CHILD UNKNOWN: …….. (sighs and hands over the phone)
HERSHEL: What is it? They did not pick up? CHILD UNKNOWN: It didn’t ring at all. (shakes his head) HERSHEL: Let’s try again! (dials the numbers again) CHILD UNKNOWN: (jumps off the bench, taking off the muffler) I am warm now… thanks to you. You can have it back. (eyes clear and serene). HERSHEL: But…. (voice tinges with uncertainty)
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CHILD UNKNOWN: I guess I… do believe you. (strolls off to the back street, where the stall is) HERSHEL: Wait kid! (shouts)
CHILD UNKNOWN: I sincerely hope… you will keep your promise. Won’t you? (turns back and gestures goodbye to HERSHEL)
HERSHEL: What just happened…. (keeps looking at the vanishing figure of the child, who just disappeared along the back street alley, no foot steps can be heard)
[ On the bench, the muffler left by the UNKNOWN CHILD is still lying. Under it is the news paper. HERSHEL
picks it up and darts his eyes across the front page. What he sees there is outrageous enough to rob his breath right there and then. His hands are shaking as he reads out loud the headlines… ]
HERSHEL: (voice hitching) “… T-The four missing child… victims of unscrupulous religious acts… declared dead.. as the preposterous pope gets shot in the encounter while fleeing…the cops. their bodies yet to be… found. Four innocent lives…….”
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[ The four faces of the dead victims, one of them resembles pretty well with the child HERSHEL just bade goodbye to, A CONSTABLE enters the scene.]
A CONSTABLE: Mr. HERSHEL?
HERSHEL: ……. (completely dazed and still shaking; face ghastly pale; unaware of the intruder coming) A CONSTABLE: Excuse me, Are you Mr. HERSHEL?
[ Howling and barking of bloodhounds in the background ]
HERSHEL: ………! (startles)
A CONSTABLE: ….. Mr. HERSHEL?
HERSHEL: ….. yes?
A CONSTABLE: Mr. HERSHEL, we received an urgent call informing us about this place. That was you, correct?
HERSHEL: What….? (utterly dumbfounded)
A CONSTABLE: You called and said, the four missing bodies of the children are buried here, the call was from you, right?
HERSHEL: …………… (silent)
A CONSTABLE: Poor them… they were buried right here, under this bench, while the whole nation was praying for them to be alive… tch. (Sighs)
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HERSHEL: I guess… so.
[The sky is no more radiant, deviating black all over the horizon. HERSHEL picks up the muffler, where there’s no more stitched butterflies, it has disappeared somehow… instead, four tiny silver butterflies fly passed him towards the crescent moon hanging above the boundless sky…]
HERSHEL: …… (glances at the butterflies without blinking)
HERSHEL: Goodbye… little one…(sighs and leaves)
~~~~Curtain Closed.
By Niharika Goswami
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