*blows off dust from this thread* Cough! Ack! Jeeze this is old! At any rate, I went to a workshop for that play I wrote, found that they had a hard copy of my play (The library computers had been cleaned off a while ago, so that was a relief) and told me what they felt I should do to revise it and make it better. The text that follows will be rather long, but keep in mind that it's primarily double spaced, and includes only two words to a line in some cases. Now, then: Kazan. Characters: Kazan: Twelve-year-old son of David and Sarah. David: Father of Kazan Sarah: Mother of Kazan Teacher: Special Ed. teacher who has been working with Kazan for some time. Boss: Boss of David Scene 1 Setting: Special Ed. Classroom Teacher: Kazan, you did your homework today, right? Kazan: Yes. Here. He hands her a paper. The teacher stares at it for a moment before shaking her head sadly. Teacher: Kazan, you gave me numbers again. Kazan: It’s what you asked for! Teacher: Kazan, I asked for an essay. This is an equation. Kazan: No it isn’t! It’s the essay! See, everything is right there! Teacher (Exasperated): Kazan, you didn’t even right your name. Kazan: It’s right there! (He points at the paper) Teacher: That’s a number, Kazan. It says 39541. Kazan (Frustrated): You just can’t read right! Nobody can read right! Teacher: Kazan… Kazan: No! I did it! That’s an essay! It isn’t my fault that you can’t read it or- Teacher (Shouting): Kazan! Kazan falls silent and rocks back and forth, looking around as if frightened. Teacher: Kazan, I… Kazan gives her a look of fear as he continues to rock. Teacher’s angry expression falters to one of stress, frustration, and pity. Teacher: Sighs We’ll continue this later… Scene Two Setting: Home Kazan enters the home as quietly as he can, attempting to sneak to his room. David appears out of another room and notices Kazan. David: hey, Kazan. How was school? You get your writing marks up, yet? Kazan is silent, and stands still, staring fixedly at a spot that is decidedly not his father’s face. David: (Slightly louder) How was school, Kazan? Did you get any of your grades up? Kazan does not react. David: (Shouting) Dammit, I’m talking to you! Answer me! Kazan recoils in fear, than darts through an open door, shutting it quickly as though about to slam it, but stopping the door just before it hits the jam so as to mitigate the noise. Kazan can still be seen on the far left of the stage, sitting against the door and rocking gently. He is listening intently. Enter Sarah. Sarah: (Scolding) David! Why are you shouting at him? You know he doesn’t like the noise. Add that to his social anxiety issues and… David: I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just… The kid won’t talk to me. I don’t know why, but he just… It’s like he’s afraid of me or something. Sarah: He won’t talk to strangers. David: Strangers? I’m his father for Christ sake! He talks to his teacher! He talks to you! He talks to, to Achmed, or whatever that dumb mute terrorist kid’s name is! He- Sarah (Sharply): David! How can you say things like that? He doesn’t talk to you because you’re never there! You’re at work all the time- David (Interjecting): Providing for the family! Sarah: Yes, providing for the family, but never being there for it. He’s getting better about the social issues, though. He even brought Abdul home from school with him a couple of times to play. He’s showing great language capacities, and he’s actually managed to pick up Arabic. It’s helping them both. David: And yet he still can’t write anything coherent, and he still won’t stop running away from loud noises! He’s twelve for pity’s sake! When I was his age I- Sarah (Cutting him off): When you were his age you had a fully functional brain. You weren’t autistic. You didn’t have your own father calling you worthless behind your back. Kazan stops rocking for a moment and puts his ear to the door as though to hear better. David: I never said he was- (Sarah gives him a stern look) Fine, yes, I’ve said some bad things about him, and I’m sorry for saying them. It’s just… (Slumps) I’ve been dealing with a ton of crap at work lately, and what with nine eleven coming up again and how we have to make certain that there’s absolutely no chance of any terrorist activity… Kazan leans back from the door and resumes his rocking, slightly more intensively, conveying the stress he feels over hearing his own father admit to calling him worthless. Sarah: I can understand that, sweetie, but do you have to go bringing the wrath of the CIA down on your own family? David: I said I was sorry, hon. Sarah: That you did. And saying it to me did absolutely nothing to help heal the damage you inflicted on your son. I’m gonna go talk to him. David: I’ll go… do… Something. I don’t know what I’ll do. Sarah: I suggest you do the same thing, David. Scene 3 Setting: Office David is typing at his computer when Boss enters. Boss: Knock knock. Got a moment? David: Why do I have a bad feeling that I’ll regret saying yes? Boss: Probably because bad things will happen now that you have. David: (Groaning) I have an autistic kid who’s terrified of me, I have a wife who’s so mad at me that she might make me sleep on the couch tonight… Now what? Boss: Nothing concrete… Yes. Our Intel heard rumor. David: Heard? Boss: Fine, forcibly extricated from a terrorist’s throat, better? David: Much. What kind of rumor? Boss: Like I said, nothing concrete… David: … But still enough that your mentioning it to me, meaning that it has to be something pretty big… Boss: Unfortunately you’re right. Except it’s not ‘big’ so much as it is ‘gargantuan.’ We’re talking a major attack on American soil. David: Well that’s never good. Any details? Boss: Not really, besides the fact that it’s supposed to be major and coordinated. We’re not going o be able to strip security from any one area to protect another, and without a date of attack… David: Long story short, it sucks to be us right now, and we’re all going to be working overtime, soon. Boss: Bingo. There’s a strong possibility that there’re gonna be plane hijackings, possibly ocean liners crashing into docks… We’re looking into the most effective car bombs they might be planning. David (Sarcastically): Fantastic. Boss: Keep your eye peeled. We’re on alert. Scene 4 Setting: Classroom Teacher: Very good, Kazan. You’re doing excellent in math, but your writing scores are still poor. Kazan: I guess I just get math. Everything just… I don’t know, everything just clicks. I use it more than anybody else does. Teacher: Oh really? Kazan: Yeah. Teacher: Do you use when you’re, I don’t know, doing your writing assignments? Kazan: Well, sort of. I use it when I talk to Abdul. Teacher: I thought Abdul taught you sign language so that you could talk? Kazan: He did. This is jus so that we can E-mail each other and stuff. Teacher: Interesting… And Abdul can understand what you’re saying? Kazan: Not all the time. He says that the E-mails are fun, though. He and his big brother try to figure out what they say. You wouldn’t believe how many people can’t read. Teacher: Kazan, I think it’s time you looked at everything. It isn’t that other people can’t read, it’s that you can’t write. Not properly, it’s just- Teacher falls silent as Kazan curls up and looks at her as though she has betrayed his trust, rocking silently. Teacher: You have to realize that this is a problem, Kazan. This may wind up affecting what you can do with the rest of your life if you don’t learn to snap out of this rut. You’re different; you’re special, even by the standards of the special people at this school. You can talk to me, something most of them can’t even do. You’ve learned a second language over the course of only a year, and you have the world in front of you! All you have to do is open yourself up to doing new things to better your life. I’m sure that we can do that, Kazan… Teacher places a firm but gentle hand on Kazan’s shoulders to stop him from rocking. His head slowly rotates around so that he can stare into Teacher’s eyes. Teacher: I know we can do that. Scene 5 Setting: Office Boss (In a monatomic and discouraged voice): Knock knock. It’s me again. David: I have a worse feeling in my gut this time. Boss: Yeah, well, I have good news this time, at least. David: And that is? Boss: We managed to intercept the plans for this operation of Al Quida’s, as well as those that were to go to one Richard Reid. A huge amount of luck led to our also procuring the method for decoding his instructions. He was supposed to blow himself up right outside the front door of the White House, following a rather elaborate set-up. David (sarcastic): Oh, thank you so much for that pretty picture. What else is there? Boss: There are six more sets of instructions that we collected. The other six use a completely different alphanumeric code. Reid had the seventh bit. He was supposed to work in tandem with the other six agents, as well as with other terrorist cells, meaning that his instructions weren’t meant to stand alone. They’re meant to go with the other six which, theoretically, give us the other attacks, Reid’s contacts to get into the White House grounds, and a number of other things we’d really prefer to know now rather than after a ball of fire is engulfing innocents. Here. Boss tosses David a manila file. David picks it up and leafs through its contents. David: These are the coded instructions. Boss: Yes, they are. David: I’m not a code breaker. Boss: Two for two. I’m not a code breaker either. Neither is my boss. Neither is Stevens, down the hall from you. But guess what? Everybody with higher security clearance than our code breakers is hard at work trying to figure out what that says. Work here all night, take it home, do whatever you need to to figure out what the hell it says. This is our top priority right now- it takes precedence over everything, whether it’s work or family. If your house is being robbed, you don’t even pay attention to the robber, you just keep trying to crack that code. You got it? David: Yeah… (David runs his fingers through his hair and slumps his shoulders) I got it. Scene 6 Setting: Home David walks in through the front door. Kazan stands at his mother’s side and takes a few quavering steps forward. He starts to turn back, but Sarah gives him a small push prompting him to keep going. Kazan approached David, who has stopped for a moment. Kazan: How was… work… today… dad? David: Not now, Kazan, I have stuff that needs doing. He blows past Kazan and Sarah heading for his home office. Just before he reaches the door Sarah intercepts him. Sarah (Angry and frustrated): What the hell is wrong with you? I’m trying to help him develop his social skills to help his teacher, something you said he needs to learn to get over, trying to get him to do something you wanted him to do, and you’ve just blown him off! David (defeated): Sarah, yes, I know I’m being an ass, but I have things that need to be done. This is national security. Sarah: What’s more important than your son, David? Hmm? What’s more important to the little boy you brought into the world, and then seem to have decided to abandon? David: My country. The lives of over ten thousand innocent men, women, and children. I’m sorry, I know what I’m doing is… Look, this needs to be done! Sarah opens her mouth as if about to speak, then closes it in confusion. David steps past her to his office door, steps into his office, and gently closes the door. Sarah turns around to find Kazan standing behind her, having crept up almost silently. Sarah: Kazan, it’s okay, sweetie. All that’s happening is- Kazan (Cutting her off): It’s just that he doesn’t care. (Kazan begins to rock back and forth.) It’s like when you were talking before. He said that I’m worthless and stupid, and now he doesn’t want to be around me at all. Sarah: That’s not true, Kazan! Just give him some time. He’s in a bad mood right now, but if go back later, I’m sure you can talk to him. He knows that you aren’t stupid or worthless- Kazan (Cutting her off): He said that I was. Sarah: Deep down he knows that you aren’t, Kazan. You just need to prove that to him. Kazan gets up and walks away slowly to another room, closing the door behind him. Sarah stares after him for a moment, then sighs and walks off stage, presumably to another room. Kazan takes a seat against the door, barricading it shut with his body, and resumes his rocking. Kazan: I have to prove myself to everyone. I have to prove myself to my teacher, I have to prove myself to my father, I have to prove myself to the world… Kazan: I have to prove myself to everyone. Everyone… Everyone… Kazan repeats the word in a monotone for a few moments. A lighting change indicates that it is no longer the afternoon, but late at night. David emerges from his office, stretches, and exits the stage, presumably to another room. Kazan: I have to prove myself to everyone. And I have to start somewhere. Kazan gets up and walks toward the door to David’s office. He still appears uncertain of himself, but not to the degree that he did when he first attempted to talk to his father. Kazan takes a deep breath and grabs the door handle, but does not open the door. Kazan: He’ll be mad if I go in… He’ll be angry… Kazan slowly removes his hand from the door. Kazan: But I have to start somewhere… He grabs the handle again, stops, removes his hand, and repeats the actions several times until the stage fades to black. Scene 7 Setting: Office David enters his office with the same manila folder Boss gave him yesterday under his arm. He is not groomed and has bags under his eyes. He tosses the folder nonchalantly onto his desk and sits down at his computer. David: Let’s see if anybody else had some luck with this thing… Boss (Off stage): Nobody has had any luck. Yet. Boss enters. He looks as though he had a long night like David. Boss: Here. Coffee. David: Nectar of the gods. Thanks. Boss: So did you manage to figure anything out? Come up with any theories? David: At around one A.M. I got a couple of ideas about how the system might work, but seeing as my Arabic isn’t particularly good… David accepts a mug of coffee from Boss, and indicates for the man to flip through his folder. Boss does so, and his eyes go wide with disbelief. Boss: David, this thing is done in full! David swallows forcibly and coughs. David: What? I didn’t even manage to- I mean- wha- how… David pauses for a moment and is struck with an epiphany. David: Impossible… Boss: What? David: Kazan… Scene 8 Setting: Home Kazan is leaning against the same door he was last night. He appears to have fallen asleep there, and Sarah gives David a worried look when the man rushes in. Sarah: David! Thank God you’re finally back! Kazan’s holed himself up in his room and I haven’t been able to get in to him. David looks at his wife in a confused manner. David: What? He always answers you, though! Why wouldn’t he open the door for you? Sarah: I don’t know. He said he wanted to talk to you, though. He said he could prove something. David: Prove what? Sarah: I have a guess, but I’m not going to say. All he would tell me was that he had to prove something to you. David walks slowly over to Kazan’s door in a similar manner to how his son walked last night when approaching his office. He knocks on Kazan’s door. David: Kazan… It’s me. Your dad. Can you open the door, please? Kazan: Yes… Just a… Just a minute… Kazan gets up and unlocks the door, though he shakes rapidly as he does so. David enters the room and sits down against the wall, patting the ground next to him and inviting Kazan to do the same. David: Come here. Sit next to me, Kazan. There’s something we need to talk about. Kazan nods and sits down, eying David warily, and keeping a good amount of distance between the two of them. David: Kazan, I need to apologize to you. For a while… For way too long I’ve been… I haven’t been the father I should have been around you. I haven’t been there to help you out with your homework, and I haven’t been able to see everything from your point of view, or to get to know you the right way. David (Continued): The fact of the matter is, you’re my son. I love you. Nothing can change that. Nothing at all. Kazan: You said I was worthless. That I was… stupid… He shies away from his father as he speaks. Kazan: You never wanted to talk to me. You always shouted if I didn’t talk, and you never listened when I tried to… David: I know that, Kazan, and I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. You’re not stupid, Kazan. In fact, you’re smarter than everyone at the CIA. Kazan: What’s that? David: It’s the place where I work, Kazan. It’s a place where we try to keep the bad guys from killing all of the good people. Kazan: And I’m smarter than all of these people? How? David: I don’t know, but you are. And we’d really like you to help us out, there. The good guys really need your help. Kazan’s prerecorded voice can be heard, repeating, “Prove yourself to your father, prove yourself to the world. You have to start somewhere…â€
