Brian Friel Plays 1 (19 page)

SKINNER
:
Why not?

MICHAEL
:
Well I mean to say, it’s not ours and we weren’t invited here and –

LILY
:
Lookat, young fella: since it was the British troops driv me off my own streets and deprived me of my sight and vision for a good quarter of an hour, the least the corporation can do is placate me with one wee drink. (
Grandly
to
SKINNER
) I think I favour a little port wine, young fella, if you insist.

MICHAEL
:
Honest to God, this is mad, really mad – sitting in the Mayor’s parlour on a Saturday afternoon – bloody mad!

(
He
giggles.
)

LILY
:
What do they call you, young fella?

MICHAEL
:
Michael.

LILY
:
Michael what?

MICHAEL
:
Michael Hegarty.

LILY
:
What Hegarty are you?

MICHAEL
:
I’m from the Brandywell.

LILY
:
Jack Hegarty’s son?

MICHAEL
:
Tommy. My father used to be in the slaughter house – before it closed down.

LILY
:
Are you working?

MICHAEL
:
I was a clerk with a building contractor but he went bust six months ago. And before that I was an assistant-storeman in the distillery but then they were taken over. And now my father’s trying to get me into the gasworks. My father and the foreman’s mates. And in the meantime I’m going to the tech. four nights a week – you know – to improve myself. I’m doing economics and business administration and computer science.

LILY
:
You must be smart, young fella.

MICHAEL
:
I don’t know about that. But I’m a lot luckier than my father was. And since that North Sea discovery there’s a big future in gas. They can’t even guess how big the industry’s going to grow.

SKINNER
:
But you’ll be ready to meet the challenge; wise man. Are
you
smart, Lily?

LILY
:
Me? I never could do nothing right at school except carry round the roll books. And when the inspector would come they used to lock me in the cloakroom with the Mad Mulligans. Lucky for my wanes the chairman’s got the brains.

SKINNER
:
Mr Hegarty?

MICHAEL
:
What?

SKINNER
:
A drink.

MICHAEL
:
I don’t think I should. I think –

SKINNER
:
Suit yourself.

LILY
:
(
To
MICHAEL
) Are you a victim?

MICHAEL
:
What?

LILY
:
To the drink.

MICHAEL
:
No, no, no. It’s just that there’s no one here and it’s not ours and –

LILY
:
Will you take one drink and don’t be such an aul woman! (
To
SKINNER
) Give him a drink, young fella.

MICHAEL
:
A very small whiskey, then.

LILY
:
Michael’s a nice name. I have a Michael. He’s seven. Next to Gloria. She’s six. And then Timothy – he’s three. And then the baby – he’s eleven months – Mark Antony. Every one of them sound of mind and limb, thanks be to God. And that includes our Declan – he’s nine – though he’s not as forward as the others – you know – not much for mixing; a wee bit quiet – you know – nothing more nor shyness and sure he’ll soon grow out of that, won’t he? They all say Declan’s the pet. And praise be to Almighty God, not one of them has the chairman’s chest. D’you see his chest, young fella? Ask him to carry the water or the coal up the three flights from the yard and you’d think Hurricane Debbie was coming at you. And give him just wan whiff of the stuff we got the day and before you’d blink he’d be life everlasting.

MICHAEL
:
Five children?

LILY
:
Five? God look to your wit! Eleven, young fella. Eight boys and three girls. And they come like a pattern on wallpaper: two boys, a girl, two boys, a girl, two boys, a girl, two boys. If I had have made the dozen, it would have been a wee girl, wouldn’t it?

MICHAEL
:
I – I – it –

LILY
:
And I would have called her Jasmine – that’s a gorgeous yalla’ flower – I seen it once in a wreath up in the cemetery the day they buried Andy Boyle’s wife. But after Mark Antony the chairman hadn’t a puff left in him.

(
SKINNER
hands
round
the
drinks.
)

SKINNER
:
Compliments of the city.

LILY
:
Hi! What happened to you?

SKINNER
:
Me?

LILY
:
Your hair – your shirt – you’re soaked!

SKINNER
:
The water-cannon got me.

LILY
:
Will you take that off you, young fella, before you die of internal pneumonia.

SKINNER
:
I’m dry now.

LILY
:
Take off that shirt.

SKINNER
:
I’m telling you – I’m dried out.

LILY
:
Come here to me.

SKINNER
:
I’m dry enough.

LILY
:
I said come here!

(
She
unbuttons
his
shirt
and
takes
it
off
–
he
is
wearing
nothing
underneath
– and
dries
his
hair
with
it.
)

LILY
:
‘Wet feet or a wet chemise/The sure way to an early demise.’ Lord, there’s not a pick on him.

SKINNER
:
Leave me alone. I’m okay.

LILY
:
And you’ve been running about like that for the past half-hour! What way’s your shoes? Are them gutties dry?

SKINNER
:
I’m telling you – I’m all right.

LILY
:
Take them off. Take them off.

(
He
takes
off
the
canvas
shoes.
He
is
not
wearing
socks.
)

LILY
:
Give them to me.

(
She
hangs
the
shirt
across
a
chair
and
puts
the
shoes
on
their
sides.
)

LILY
:
D’you see our Kevin? He’s like him (
SKINNER
). Eats like a bishop and nothing to show for it. I be affronted when he goes with his class to the swimming pool.

MICHAEL
:
Well. To civil rights.

LILY
:
Good luck, young fella.

SKINNER
:
Good luck.

MICHAEL
:
To another great turn-out today.

LILY
:
Great.

MICHAEL
:
Good luck.

(
A
PRIEST
in
a
surplice
appears
on
the
battlements.
He
addresses
a
congregation
in
the
parlour.
)

PRIEST
:
At eleven o’clock tomorrow morning solemn requiem Mass will be celebrated in this church for the repose of the souls of the three people whose death has plunged this parish into a deep and numbing grief. As you are probably aware, I had the privilege of administering the last rites to them and the knowledge that they didn’t go unfortified
before their Maker is a consolation to all of us. But it is natural that we should mourn. Blessed are they that mourn, says our Divine Lord. But it is also right and fitting that this tragic happening should make us sit back and take stock and ask ourselves the very pertinent question: Why did they die?

I believe the answer to that question is this. They died for their beliefs. They died for their fellow citizens. They died because they could endure no longer the injuries and injustices and indignities that have been their lot for too many years. They sacrificed their lives so that you and I and thousands like us might be rid of that iniquitous yoke and might inherit a decent way of life. And if that is not heroic virtue, then the word sanctity has no meaning.

No sacrifice is ever in vain. But its value can be diminished if it doesn’t fire our imagination, stiffen our resolution, and make us even more determined to see that the dream they dreamed is realized. May we be worthy of that dream, of their trust. May we have the courage to implement their noble hopes. May we have God’s strength to carry on where they left off.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

(
When
the
PRIEST
finishes
he
goes
off;
and
immediately
we
hear
VOICES
from
behind
the
battlements
call
to
one
another
in
shocked,
awed
tones.
)

VOICE
1:
There’s at least a dozen dead.

VOICE
2:
Where?

VOICE
1:
Inside the Guildhall.

VOICE
3:
I heard fifteen or sixteen.

VOICE
1:
Maybe twenty.

VOICE
3:
And a baby in a pram.

VOICE
1:
And an old man. They blew his head off.

VOICE
2:
O my God.

VOICE
3:
They just broken the windows and lobbed in hand-grenades.

VOICE
2:
O my God.

VOICE
1:
Blew most of them to smithereens.

VOICE
2:
Fuck them anyway! Fuck them! Fuck them!

Fuck them!

(
An
ARMY PRESS OFFICER
appears
on
the
battlements
and
reads
a
press
release
to
a
few
reporters
(
O’KELLY
,
the
PHOTOGRAPHER
of opening
sequence,
etc.
)
below.
)

OFFICER
:
At approximately 15.20 hours today a band of terrorists took possession of a portion of the Guildhall. They gained access during a civil disturbance by forcing a side-door in Guildhall Street. It is estimated that up to forty persons are involved. In the disturbance two soldiers were hit by stones and one by a bottle. There are no reports of civilian injuries. The area is now quiet and the security forces have the situation in hand. No further statement will be issued.

(
The
PRESSMEN
ask
their
questions
with
great
rapidity:
)

O’KELLY
:
What portion of the Guildhall is occupied?

OFFICER
:
The entire first floor.

PRESSMAN
1:
Is it true that there are women in there, too?

OFFICER
:
Our information is that women are involved.

PRESSMAN
2:
Are they armed?

OFFICER
:
Our information is that they have access to arms.

PRESSMAN
2:
They brought the arms with them or the arms are in there?

OFFICER
:
We understand that arms are accessible to them.

O’KELLY
:
What troops and equipment have you brought up?

OFFICER
:
I cannot answer that.

PRESSMAN
1:
Have you been in touch with them?

OFFICER
:
No.

PRESSMAN
2:
Are you going to get in touch with them?

OFFICER
:
Perhaps.

O’KELLY
:
Are you going to negotiate with them or are you going to go in after them?

OFFICER
:
Sorry. That’s all I can say.

O’KELLY
:
When are you going in after them?

PRESSMAN
1:
Is it a police or an army operation?

OFFICER
:
Sorry.

PRESSMAN
2:
Why wasn’t the Guildhall guarded?

O’KELLY
:
Who’s in charge of ground forces?

PRESSMAN
1:
Do you expect a reaction from the Bogside?

OFFICER
:
Sorry, gentlemen.