Mr Takahashi Read online

  Foreword

  Katrina Fong Lim

  When Dr Sandra Thibodeaux presented me with her play, Mr Takahashi, she did not warn me that it would be quite so confronting. She presents intertwined stories, evoking a torrid era of wartime woes and race relations, in her own exceptional style. Her ability to tell the tale of what it was like to be ‘Darwinese’, to grow up in this unique multicultural community, is what is so confronting. It brings back memories of a Darwin past, of family stories of setting up business outside the Chinatown area, of iced lemon squash and sewing for soldiers. It provides the faint echoes of a community where the picture theatre was the social hub, providing a welcome break to the mundane living in a remote tropical outpost.

  In this, the 75th year since the Bombing of Darwin, it is fitting that the play is part of the commemorations. Thank you Sandra, for lending your considerable talents to this story from a true Darwinese.

  Katrina Fong Lim

  Lord Mayor of Darwin

  Mr Takahashi and Other Falling Secrets was first produced by Corrugated Iron Youth Arts and JUTE Theatre Company at Brown’s Mart Theatre, Darwin, on 15 February 2017, with the following cast:

  RUBY Chenoa Deemal

  MRS AGNES LAMB / JOAN Merrilee Mills

  SISTER CONCEPTUA Natalie Taylor

  GRACE Haylee Wright

  MOTHER DOLORES Kate Wyvill

  Director, Suellen Maunder

  Set and Props Designer, Simone Tesorieri

  Costume and Props Designer, Simona Cosentini

  Composer and Musical Director, Netanela Mizrahi

  Lighting Designer, Rebecca Adams

  Production Manager, Angus Robson

  Stage Manager, Andi Egan

  CHARACTERS

  MAGGIE TAKAHASHI, 13, Australian-born daughter of Mr Takahashi, the town’s photographer, intelligent, mates with Kristina.

  KRISTINA KOLCHAK, 13, ebullient but insecure, mates with Maggie.

  DOLORES, a Catholic nun (‘Mother’), older, reflective, haunted by her past.

  CONCEPTUA, a Catholic nun (‘Sister’), younger, the popular ‘Sister Janet Mead’ of the convent.

  GIRLS, representative of the Stolen Generations. These girls are played by the ensemble (minus the nuns) as a chorus. Occasionally, an individual girl talks—this can be any of the actors taking turns to voice an individual opinion.

  GRACE, young (perhaps 15), Indigenous maid at Government House, musical, painfully shy.

  RUBY, older (perhaps 20), Indigenous maid at Government House, majestic, a rebel.

  MRS AUSTIN LAMB (AGNES), Administrator’s wife, bossy with grand ideas about herself but can be self-conscious, especially when dealing with Ruby. Her marriage is an empty shell.

  JOAN CARROLL, postal worker and mother of Betty, attractive, fractured, heavy drinker, husband away at war.

  BETTY CARROLL, postal worker, more practical than her mother and covers for her, misses her father.

  ROSE CHIN, older sister, less attractive than Lily and resentful, has managed the family business since the death of their mother and is old before her time.

  LILY CHIN, younger sister, gorgeous and dreamy.

  Other roles are played by the chorus.

  SETTING

  Darwin between June 1941 and 19 February 1942. The play concludes with a scene set in May 1946.

  The action takes place within family houses, workplaces and public areas. Space should be used fluidly and stylistically.

  Garden Point is a Catholic mission on Melville Island, off the northern Australian coast. The nuns observe the lives of the Darwin characters in an omnipotent fashion.

  The characters and events in this play are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This play went to press before the end of rehearsals and may differ from the play as performed.

  ACT ONE

  Darwin, July 1941.

  GIRLS: [singing/chanting] Over the garden wall,

  I let the baby fall.

  Then mother came out and gave me a clout,

  And sent me over the wall, the wall, the wall, the wall …

  The GIRLS continue to chant softly as a wind howls up from the south. It sounds like a baby wailing.

  Lights build on DOLORES, who’s on the verandah of the convent at Garden Point, investigating the day. CONCEPTUA comes out.

  CONCEPTUA: That’s a Dry Season hymn …

  DOLORES: Bold as brass, that wind. [To the wind] Bringing up the desert again?

  CONCEPTUA: You should go inside, Mother.

  DOLORES: The leaves are stripped …

  CONCEPTUA: Shut the louvres.

  DOLORES: It sneaks through the cracks.

  CONCEPTUA: Close the curtains.

  DOLORES: The curtains rip. The cradles—

  CONCEPTUA: Rock, Mother. They rock.

  Lights find MAGGIE and KRISTINA, skipping.

  GIRLS: January, February, March, April, May, June …

  MAGGIE skips in double time.

  CONCEPTUA: There’s Maggie Takahashi …

  DOLORES: And her bosom friend, Kristina.

  CONCEPTUA: Maggie’s leaving Darwin. Take a photo, Mr Takahashi!

  A light flashes.

  GIRL: That camera gonna take her spirit, Sister. That camera gonna take her away!

  GIRLS: No, it won’t!

  GIRL: Cover your face, sis!

  The camera flashes.

  CONCEPTUA: Your spirit, Maggie Takahashi, is in the hands of our Lord. A fine Catholic school it is …

  KRISTINA: Why can’t you go to a public school?

  MAGGIE: Mum won’t let me. You know what she’ll say …

  GIRLS: ‘Public dogs sitting on logs, eating maggots out of frogs.’

  DOLORES clips the ear of the nearest GIRL.

  KRISTINA: Let’s run up Chinatown, Maggie.

  MAGGIE: I have to pack!

  KRISTINA: I’ll buy you some salty plums. Won’t have them at your dried-up nunnery!

  Arm-in-arm, they skip down Cavenagh Street, sweeping up treats from shops.

  GIRLS: Wing Cheong Sing.

  Wing Wah Loong.

  Wing Sang Toy.

  Fang Chong Loong.

  KRISTINA: And the Chung King Café.

  GIRLS: G.P. Wong.

  C.P. Cheong.

  Sun Hing Kee.

  Yean Ying Bakery.

  MAGGIE: [awestruck] And the Man Fong Lau. It’s a bonza place. Like you see in the pictures!

  KRISTINA: Mum says it’s full of communists.

  MAGGIE: Nah—KMT, Dad reckons.

  KRISTINA: What’s that?

  MAGGIE: [shrugging] Something political …

  KRISTINA: Must be communists. Chinamen are communists, eh?

  MAGGIE: Nah, they’re Confucius.

  GIRLS: Restaurants:

  Tung Fong.

  Yuen Tung.

  Nam King … and ‘Tropical Views’.

  The camera flashes.

  KRISTINA: Not a great view for One-Eyed Kin, the owner!

  MAGGIE: Nah …

  KRISTINA: He’s Japanese, eh?

  MAGGIE: S’pose so …

  KRISTINA glances at MAGGIE.

  KRISTINA: You’re not but, are ya?

  MAGGIE: I’m Australian.

  KRISTINA: Yeah, like me.

  MAGGIE: Yeah.

  KRISTINA: And your mum’s not a Jap?

  MAGGIE: She’s Catholic!

  KRISTINA: Yeah, she’s Catholic!

  Beat.

  You don’t look Japanese … really.

  GIRLS: Kristina!

  CONCEPTUA: Your mother’s calling.

  GIRL: She’s a cheeky one, Sister—always whingein’ ’bout Japanese.

  GIRLS:
Where Japanese?

  DOLORES: In Japan, of course.

  GIRL: Except for the Takahashis.

  GIRLS: They’re not Japanese!

  GIRL: Yes, they are!

  GIRLS: No, they’re not!

  GIRL: What are they, then?

  Pause.

  CONCEPTUA: They’re Darwinese!

  GIRLS: Chinese, Japanese, what are these, they’re Darwinese!

  Lights up on the Chins’ shop.

  ROSE CHIN draws the bolt on the door. LILY brings in a block of ice and starts chopping it. ROSE folds soldiers’ uniforms.

  CONCEPTUA: The Chins are opening shop—

  DOLORES: Fresh fruit and vegies—

  CONCEPTUA: Hems and buttons and starch—

  DOLORES: And their famous lemon squash.

  CONCEPTUA: When they first set up in Smith Street, everyone told them:

  ROSE: ‘The Whites won’t trade with you in Smith Street! You’ll have to go to Chinatown!’

  CHORUS: Ching Chong Chinaman velly velly sad, much aflaid, alla tlade, velly velly bad. ‘Long cummy Whitey man makey shutty shop. Ching Chong Chinaman chop, chop—’

  DOLORES: But they were wrong.

  CONCEPTUA: The shop’s a roaring success.

  DOLORES: ‘Go to Chinatown,’ they said.

  ROSE: Only to buy my duck!

  The CHORUS, as soldiers, tramp down the street.

  LILY watches from the window.

  DOLORES: Here they come, the soldiers.

  CONCEPTUA: Tramping down Smith Street like lords of the world.

  A dog howls.

  CHORUS: [roughly] Come out, Lily Chin! I’ll float your boat to China!

  ROSE: Why don’t you float back where you come from? [Muttering] Bloody Southerners … Lily—the lemons. Come on!

  LILY returns to squeezing lemons. The dog howls.

  LILY: Lots of soldiers in town.

  ROSE: Pictures.

  LILY: Oh … You gonna sell things?

  ROSE: Maybe peanuts.

  LILY: Can I come?

  ROSE: Too many fellas.

  The dog howls.

  There’s Charles from Yam Yan’s. Gosh, he’s tall … [Calling out the door] You coming in?

  Her face falls.

  She’s busy.

  ROSE turns away from the door.

  LILY: What’s on?

  ROSE: Hound of the Baskervilles. This rich man ruins a pretty girl who runs away. So he sets the hounds after her. She ends up all bloody and rotten with maggots.

  LILY: Horror?

  ROSE: Comedy.

  Lights crossfade to Government House.

  GRACE is shelving the china, delicately. She holds a rose-painted teapot.

  CONCEPTUA: Over at Government House, Grace is taking care with the china.

  DOLORES: She’s never broken one piece.

  CONCEPTUA: Good morning, Grace!

  GRACE: Good morning, Sister.

  CONCEPTUA: She’s such a—

  AGNES: [offstage] Good Girl …?

  GRACE drops the pot in surprise. She pushes the pieces under a chair.

  CONCEPTUA: Mrs Agnes Lamb—

  DOLORES: The Administrator’s wife.

  CONCEPTUA: Even at this hour, she’s dressed to the nines.

  DOLORES: Stockings at all times—

  CONCEPTUA: Hat and gloves for out-of-doors.

  DOLORES: How she must burn!

  AGNES swishes in, carrying a bright yellow frock.

  AGNES: We’re having our portraits taken today. Mr Takahashi.

  A camera flashes.

  Can you press this, please?

  GRACE: The yellow one?

  Beat.

  AGNES: I’m holding only one frock, girl. It’s … cheery.

  GRACE: Yes, missus—cheery.

  AGNES: Too … cheery?

  Beat.

  GRACE: Oh, no, no, no, madame—you look pretty in that one. Young.

  AGNES considers and puts the frock down.

  AGNES: I’ll wear the brown one.

  GRACE: It was too tight?

  AGNES: [sharply] I thought you fixed it?

  GRACE looks away.

  [Softening] Do a good job, and I’ll find you a surprise.

  GRACE: Thank you, missus.

  AGNES goes into the dressing-room (offstage).

  AGNES: [offstage] That new girl is due today. Can you see that she’s settled?

  GRACE: Yes, madame.

  AGNES: [offstage] And I’d like a cup of tea before I go. In that rose pot, thank you.

  GRACE’S face falls.

  [Offstage] Did you hear me, Good Girl?

  GRACE: Yes, madame.

  GRACE grimaces, scoops up the china.

  CHORUS: [singing/chanting] Over the garden wall,

  I let the baby fall.

  Then mother came out and gave me a clout,

  And sent me over the wall, the wall, the wall, the wall …

  Lights crossfade to a street where JOAN wheels a pram out.

  She stops beside a gallon drum bin and drops a bottle in. Then she drops another and another …

  DOLORES: Mrs Carroll!

  A hungover JOAN looks up, waves and smiles grimly. BETTY enters, smartly dressed.

  CONCEPTUA: Off to work, Betty?

  BETTY: I got a promotion. Can’t say but—

  JOAN: War Office—all hush-hush.

  BETTY: Mum …

  JOAN: These young girls, you know? They run rings around us.

  JOAN suddenly plonks down, to BETTY’S surprise.

  DOLORES: Well, your father will be pleased …

  BETTY looks confused.

  CONCEPTUA: The promotion?

  BETTY: Yeah, I hope so … [To JOAN] You right?

  She hovers over her mother, a little impatiently.

  CONCEPTUA: [to DOLORES] Poor girl. You know, he didn’t come back for his leave.

  DOLORES: I wouldn’t leave Joan alone for long … that showgirl smile.

  CONCEPTUA: She was an actress.

  DOLORES: Much the same—lipstick and filth.

  BETTY: Will I tell them you’re sick?

  JOAN: I’ll be right in a minute.

  BETTY: You look real crook.

  JOAN: Well, pass me your compact.

  BETTY: You’re making me late!

  She passes it reluctantly. JOAN looks in the mirror.

  JOAN: My God. Who is this? And what did she do last night?

  BETTY: It’s the Witch of the West—and the same as every night.

  JOAN powders.

  JOAN: I’m sorry, lovey … I’ll take you to the pictures later. Alright?

  She holds the compact out. BETTY grabs it, snaps it shut.

  BETTY: Let’s just go.

  Lights up on DOLORES, CONCEPTUA and other relevant characters.

  DOLORES: All of the women are cutting.

  CONCEPTUA: Our girls are snipping out paper angels.

  DOLORES: Why do the angels fall?

  A baby wails.

  CONCEPTUA: Hush now, Mother.

  The wailing fades.

  DOLORES: Kristina hacks at the bougainvillea.

  CONCEPTUA: Betty censors mail—

  DOLORES: Butchering secrets—

  CONCEPTUA: Wives to their husbands; soldiers to brothers; and Good-Girl Grace to her sweetheart, Francis, who sailed away on a Japanese pearler and was never heard of again.

  DOLORES: And what does the censored version say?

  BETTY: [reading] ‘Dear Francis. I hope this finds you … Still here. I hear there are sharks? I’m at … Seems like a long time ago. The mission. The dark. You brought me plums. Said you were going off to find me some …’

  GRACE: Have you found a new love?

  DOLORES: Love is a jail; Grace is a prisoner.

  CHORUS: [singing] I wrote a letter to my love and on the way I dropped it.

  CONCEPTUA: Incoming, Betty … postmarked Hong Kong.

  Like Chinese Whispers, the CHORUS pass a letter to BETTY, who
goes to open it.

  DOLORES: It’s addressed to Mrs Carroll.

  BETTY: But it must be from Dad …?!

  CONCEPTUA: Never open people’s letters.

  DOLORES: We know you’re not Catholic, but …

  BETTY is tempted by the letter, then drops it.

  CHORUS: [singing] Someone must have picked it up and put it in their pocket …

  CONCEPTUA: Listen …

  Pause.

  Rose is at it: snip, snip, snip.

  GIRLS: What’s she making, Sister?

  CONCEPTUA: A pretty pink dress for Good-Girl Grace.

  DOLORES: A gift from Mrs Lamb.

  GIRL: Is she gonna go to the pictures?

  GIRLS: She’s not allowed!

  CONCEPTUA: She’s got an exemption—

  GIRL: For being a good girl!

  Lights up on GRACE, rushing to the servants’ quarters with a jar of make-up in her hands. She stops at the door, opens and smells it. Then she notices RUBY, seated like a queen inside.

  RUBY: What’s that you got?

  GRACE hesitates.

  GRACE: Are you the new girl?

  RUBY: Yeah.

  GRACE: I’m Grace … and … the missus asked me to show you things.

  RUBY: Oh, yeah. Show me that thing, Grace.

  GRACE hands her the cream.

  Charmosan Hand Lotion … You get this from the missus?

  GRACE: No, it’s mine … I have to put it away.

  RUBY: It’s alright if I use it first?

  RUBY opens the jar and uses the cream while GRACE looks on anxiously.

  GRACE: It’s expensive …

  RUBY: I’ll put it away.

  GRACE: No!

  RUBY has already opened GRACE’S drawer.

  RUBY: Lord, what you got in here!

  She pulls out and investigates various pots.

  GRACE: My creams and things—don’t!

  AGNES barges in with another jar. She’s wearing a yellow hat.

  AGNES: I’ve found another one almost finished … [Noticing RUBY] Hello? You must be the new girl? I’m the Administrator’s wife—Mrs Lamb.

  RUBY stands, towering over AGNES.

  RUBY: Madame …

  RUBY curtsies.

  AGNES: Did Grace … show you everything?

  GRACE: I was gonna—

  AGNES: Going to, Grace.

  RUBY: I’ll need a duty list, madame, and a schedule.

  AGNES: Oh, yes …? Nice to see someone pronouncing it correctly—

  RUBY: ‘Schedule’, Madame.

  GRACE: ‘Schedule’.

  AGNES: [condescendingly] Thank you, Grace.

  Beat.

  Anyway, mustn’t chat. [To GRACE] Here’s the make-up, Girl—milk tone.