A Short play...

[OryxTheCrake]

OryxTheCrake

            Two Down

           

            CHARACTERS

                        Mayumi

                        Isamu

                        Hiroshi

                        Susumu

 

            SCENE: February 1945, 179 American B-29’s
armed with napalm and incendiary weapons punish the Japanese. One quarter of
Tokyo is burning. The smoke is thick; burnt rubber and wood fills the air.
Bodies fill the streets. Day in and out, the sounds of screams and moans – pain
and anguish – pride and perseverance; the remaining people of Tokyo flood the
streets, putting out fires, helping women and children, and the elderly.

[Clack! Clack clack clack clack! Clak clak]

Hiroshi: Mom, stop,
I’ve got it.

Mayumi: [takes the hammer from Hiroshi] you’re
just like your Father. Never listen!

Hiroshi: Don’t talk
about him that way! I miss him!

Mayumi: [looking straight into his intelligent, dark
little eyes] I’m afraid I’ll lose you too, like Isamu!

Mayumi: [pointing at a jagged board on the ground]
Pick that up Hiroshi, and nail it to the window.

Hiroshi: [looking about for his friend] Have you
seen….

Mayumi: [grabbing for his shirt, but he’s too fast]
Don’t even think about it!

[Mayumi thinking aloud… I cannot
lose him; he’s all I have… Tears welling up as images of Isamu flood her mind]

Mayumi: [whispering for herself] There are others
that need help. It could have been worse. Hiroshi will return. He just lost his
Father. He’s coping.

Hiroshi: Susumuuuu!
Susumuu! Su! … SUSUMU! Want to do it again, like yesterday? Remember, I had the
helmet first, so that means I get the sword today! Right?

Susumu: Eh, I don’t
feel like playing that today. Besides, I didn’t bring the sword or the helmet –
we’ll have to play samurai some other day.

Hiroshi: [disappointed, shoulders slump, head tilted
down. Shooting his eyes through his long black hair] Fine…

Susumu: I’ve got it;
let’s go to the top of Mount Jinba! If we set out now, we’ll be there by
nightfall.

Hiroshi:
No way! My mother will kill me!                                   

Susumu: Nah, I’m 16
years old. I’m practically your older brother. I…

Hiroshi: [cutting him off] First of all, you’re only
14 and you have a bad leg. Do you really think you can make it?

Susumu: After the
orphanage burnt down, all my records went with it – I can be any age I want! [Sticks his tongue out at Hirsohi]

            [Hiroshi kicks
Susumu’s bad leg and tackles him to the ground]

Hiroshi: You could be Genghis
Kahn for all I care, I’ll take you down. [A
little smirk forms at the corner of his mouth]

Susumu: [getting up, dusting himself off] Nice
new boots! They’re shiny like your Fathers. Good tread, and strong shoe laces.
Come on! Are you ready to go? Let’s test out your new combat boots!

            [Hiroshi and Susumu
collect some things, and head out for Mt. Jinba]

 Mayumi: [whispering for herself] It’s a miracle…
a miracle…

            [Sweat dropping
from her smooth nose, and hitting the dusty floor. Walking onto the deck of her
house, and heading inside; insulated, and comforted by her belongings in the
house, she smiles at a picture of
Isamu on the wall]

Mayumi: It’s… It’s as
if nothing has happened. I must keep the household together; you’re a disgrace
to the family. [Muttering to herself]
Tisk!

            [Cracks of light
shown through the boarded up windows, rays catching dust on its way in,
illuminating it against the dark room; the sun is setting on japan]

Susumu: [waving to Hiroshi] Come on, I’ve got a
bum leg, and I’m still beating you.

Hiroshi: You may have a
bum leg, but they’re longer than mine; you take big steps.

Susumu: Come on, the
sun is setting, don’t you want to see Tokyo from on high?

Hiroshi: Almost…

            [Preparing rice
balls, and potatoes; Mayumi tends to kitchen duties]

Mayumi: Just a little
more. Hum, hmm, hmm… [Humming as she
cooks] Hiroshi should return at any time. He’ll be so excited to see his
father.

            [Dumping carefully
measured cups of dirt and rocks into her wok]

Mayumi: Just a tad
more… Hmm, hmm.

            [Adding grass
clippings from outside]

Hiroshi: Wow… look
what’s happened. All I see is fog and little fire flies.

Susumu: That would be
smoke from fires. Not fog and fire flies.

            [A faint humming
sound in the distance. Rising gradually, like a bow is being dragged against a
deep bass string; from an imperceptible note, to an obvious hum]

Hiroshi: You hear that
Susumu?

Susumu: Yeah, it sounds
like many planes. It’s too dark now; I can’t see a thing…

            [In the distance
over Tokyo, planes drop flares into the pattern of an X]

Hiroshi: Oh no,
something is going on.

Susumu: It’s spotter
planes. They’re marking targets. They did this last time!

            [The humming sound
stops Mayumi in her tracks. She drops the bowl she was holding. It tumbles, and
smashes on the floor]

Mayumi: [Suddenly, like a shock from a defibrillator;
Mayumi is back in reality] Where’s Hiroshi? He never returned!

Mayumi: [Running out of the house, and into darkness]
HIROSHI!!! HIROSHI!! COME BACK!! [Kneeling
in the middle of the dusty street, sobbing] Hiroshi… I cannot lose Hiroshi…

            [Charging down the
mountain like a billy goat. One foot in front of the other, making leaps and
skids, Hiroshi makes his way down the mountain]

Hiroshi: [Yelling aloud] I’ve got to warn my
Mother, they’re coming!

            [The deep humming
transforms into a thundering roar. Rising and falling with every passing
bomber. Lights up ahead, and all around, illuminating the smoke; the scene is
like fire and lightening]

Mayumi: [In the middle of the street, alone, kneeling
and holding herself, sobbing. Lights from the bombs touching her face, exposing
the dust and grit on her skin. Once a young woman, now haggard by war] Hiroshi!

Hiroshi: Mom! Is that
you?

            [Approaching with
speed, nearly tackling the dark mass in the middle of the road]

Mayumi: Oh, my love! [Holding each other, crying]

Hiroshi: We must get
out of here!

            [The temperature is
rising. Sweat dripping from both of them, they hold each other tightly. Bombs
igniting objects left and right of the road, Hiroshi attempts to pick up his
mother]

Mayumi: [Rising to her feet, legs shaking] Come
on, hold my hand, we mustn’t wait!

            [Heading straight down the road, desperately
seeking escape, Mayumi grabs her only son and runs as fast as she can]

[BOOM, Clack, clack… screech!!!]

END SCENE: Susumu makes his way off
the mountain, in search of his friend. Hours go by. Without standing landmarks,
places are hard to find. Charred remains, smoke, and smoldering bodies littered
about; no sign of Hiroshi. Just as he was about to give up, something shiny
catches his eye. Pushing over an adult body, Susumu discovers a small human
frame. Charred, blackened, unrecognizable – wearing shiny black boots…

Susumu: HIROSHI!!!

            On the nights of
March 9-10, 1945, 339 B-29 bombers dropped over 1,500 tons of bombs on Tokyo,
Japan. Roughly 100,000 people lost their lives, and millions homeless; making
this event more deadly than Desden, Hiroshima or Nagasaki as single events.