Arpita Bhawal
(On rise: A living room in a Christian home in Old Goa. A used sofa with cushions, a family photo on the wall behind the sofa, and a small side table on which lies a new mobile phone in a box, an old mobile phone, a prescription glasses case, a pen and a notebook.)
(Through the window on the wall next to the photo, we can see and hear the rain. On the sofa, Delano sits reading a newspaper in the poor natural light of the room.)
(Sound of rain and thunder pervades the entire conversation.)
DELANO (Folds the newspaper): Same old, same old… rising fuel prices, receding coastlines and scams by Government officials. (Throws it on the table) Animals!
(Denver enters. He is dressed for the outdoors and has a raincoat. He carries an overnight bag.)
DENVER: Ah, Dad. I’ve been looking for you. Did you have lunch?
DELANO: What if I did?
DENVER: I didn’t see your plate in the sink.
DELANO: One usually can’t see anything when asleep.
DENVER: Last night’s party stretched a bit—up until 5.00 AM—sorry. You know me, Dad. Always the last to leave.
DELANO: And the first to arrive.
DENVER (Switches on the light): Why are you sitting in the dark?
(The room brightens up, making Delano cringe a bit. He removes his glasses and cleans them with a tiny cloth from the case.)
DELANO: I’m used to darkness. (Disapprovingly) Where are you sailing off to in this squall?
DENVER: Mumbai.
DELANO (Grumbles): Humph! I should know better than to ask.
DENVER: I’ll be back in a few days, Dad.
DELANO: I won’t hold my breath.
DENVER (Annoyed): Guess what? I didn’t have to take a shower today because the roof needs mending in my room. Maybe you can get it done while I’m gone?
DELANO (Mocks): Maybe after your twenty-fifth birthday, you won’t need a roof at all.
(Beat)
DENVER: You’ve not seen Mum for ages. Don’t you miss her?
DELANO: What’s there to miss? I’ve saved thousands of rupees, thanks to her disappearing act. That’s good enough for me.
DENVER: She’s not disappeared.
(Beat)
And yeah, about the thousands? I noticed. Let’s see… you saved on phone bills… food… and my birthday bash, which she would’ve made you throw.
DELANO: The Lord is merciful.
DENVER: Do you recognise this raincoat?
DELANO: No. Did you steal it?
DENVER: Your sense of humour is pretty unique, Dad. But you don’t want to really know where I got it from, right?
DELANO: Oh, don’t keep me guessing, or I might have the heart attack that’s been pending for a while now!
DENVER: Mum bought it for me when I visited her four months ago, for my birthday. She knew you wouldn’t buy me anything, and I needed a new one.
DELANO: Glad she has found the Fountain of Wealth. Now, all she’s got to look for is the Fountain of Youth.
DENVER: Dad, please. Don’t pretend not to care. I know you do. If you didn’t have this big problem with spending money on our family…
DELANO: What family?
(Delano starts reading the newspaper again.)
DENVER: Fine. I’ll go now.
DELANO: No reason to still be standing here.
DENVER: Dad?
DELANO: Have you forgotten where the door is?
DENVER: I need some money.
DELANO: I bet you do. But I don’t have any.
DENVER: Come on, Dad. I have to catch a bus because you won’t pay for my flight tickets.
(Beat)
Please don’t start, Dad.
DELANO: Start? Me? I didn’t start this whole visiting business. You did! As a matter of painful fact, your mother Modestine did!
DENVER: Please give me a couple of thousand. I’ll pay you back. I promise!
(Beat)
Look, I don’t want to miss the 5.00 PM. It’s pouring already. With some luck, I might even manage to reach the bus stop earlier and get a seat.
DELANO: I’ve got zero money to waste.
DENVER: Really? (Pointing) The package that arrived earlier today tells a different tale. I saw the shipping bill. It costs more than a couple of thousand. What a waste!
DELANO (Puts a hand on the box): This is not a waste. Giving it to you would be.
(Beat)
I needed a new phone. To surf the internet. It’s cheaper than a computer.
DENVER: You don’t even know how to use that smartphone. I’m sure you need help getting it started, but you won’t ask—and we both know why. (Goes over to him) May I touch the box? I promise it won’t explode, and I could start it for you—for free.
(Delano nods grudgingly. Denver opens the box, takes out the new phone, takes out the SIM card from the old mobile phone, inserts it in the new one, and switches it on.)
DELANO: It works?
DENVER: Yeah, it does. Phone companies nowadays pack mobile phones that are pre-charged. (Plays around) Nice! Should I copy your phone contacts and simplify the settings for you?
DELANO: I can do that myself.
(Denver sits at the other end of the couch and continues to fiddle with the new mobile phone.)
DENVER: No, you can’t. There! Nearly done. Should I put Mum’s number in it?
DELANO: No.
DENVER: Don’t be childish, Dad…
DELANO (Cuts him off): I’m not giving you any money to visit that shrew! How can you be so desperate and willing to meet the woman who has abandoned us both?
(Beat)
Are you not my son? Because if you were, you would see how I’m suffering, thanks to your mother!
DENVER: You’re not the only one.
(Beat)
Do you remember how this whole thing started? And why Mum left us?
DELANO: Go on, son! Please enlighten me…or just tell me it’s all my fault that I didn’t pander to her ego. Go on!
DENVER: Seriously, Dad? Do you think Mum is so shallow and foolish that she left us for her ego?
DELANO: Is there another way to put it in words? Shall we say tantrums that can’t be reasoned with?
DENVER: You tell me, Dad. Which man would deprive his wife of a new dress on Christmas? I mean, come on, Dad…tell me…we’ve never talked so frankly, so now let’s talk, okay? Tell me…was that her tantrum? Would Uncle Benjamin not buy a new dress for Aunt Suzie? Would your best friend, Uncle Alvin, not give something to Aunt Maria for Christmas?
DELANO: Ah! So you have all these rhetorical questions. How about answering some of my own? Do you know what it takes to put food on the table, son? Have you worked a day in your life since college? Were you helping me with financial planning when your mother splurged money on her beggarly family?
DENVER: Pulling out all the stops to prove what a bad son I am and what a bad wife you have! Just to clarify, what a fine husband and father you’ve been to us, you know, right?
DELANO: Haven’t I?
DENVER (Squares his shoulders): Have you? Okay! How about the fact that Mum left us a year ago, and since then, you’ve refused to take her calls? You even sent messengers to Granny, threatening her to return Mum. Seriously, return Mum? You don’t want Mum back, so why did you threaten Granny? She’s eighty-five years old! Why don’t you divorce Mum when you don’t want her back? She’s asked you ten times already in the last three months through half a dozen of your friends.
DELANO: Modestine has lost her dignity and destroyed my reputation. How dare she ask my friends to intervene? If she had any sense, she would have come back and taken responsibility for this…for this so-called ‘life’ that she claims to have built for us.
(Beat)
Instead…she ups the stake and asks everyone to ask me for a divorce. I’ll never give her one, even if she walks on a bed of burning coal for it!
DENVER: I can see a blood vessel’s about to pop in your head. (Laughs) And who speaks like this? Bed of burning coal? What are you watching these days on Netflix? Oh, wait! We don’t have OTT channels…because they cost more money. (Stands up) Now, give me the money, Dad. Or I’ll miss the bus.
DELANO: Do I care?
DENVER: Don’t you care about Mum at all?
DELANO: She’s dead to me.
DENVER: But, we’re both your family…your responsibility. You owe us…financially, at least!
DELANO: Like mother, like son, eh? It’s always about the money. New dress…birthday parties…bus ticket.
DENVER: It’s about us, Dad. We love you.
DELANO: No, no…you love my money. And Modestine? Oh, she only loves money.
DENVER: China, flowers, linen—that’s all she always wanted. She never asked you to buy her a car, diamonds or send her to Australia!
DELANO: Oh, is that so? That atones her flight from this house like a bird breaking free from a cage?
DENVER (Laughs): You said it, Dad!
(Delano gets up from the sofa and charges towards Denver.)
DELANO: Shut up! You’re calling my house a cage? When did I ever lock up the both of you?
DENVER: You didn’t, but your actions did. Remember the time when Mum wanted to go to her cousin Jenny’s wedding in Canada?
DELANO: What about that?
DENVER: You told Mum to ask her dead father for money.
DELANO: Lies! I know dead people can’t pay. But is it okay that she expected me to pay for her holiday in Canada when that was the year I missed my promotion?
DENVER: And I missed my happy Mum that year.
(Beat)
Have you forgotten, Dad? How Mum cried for days when her family went to attend Aunt Jenny’s wedding?
DELANO: I’m convinced! You’re not my son. Just listen to you! Blabbering away about the woes of a woman I spent my entire life with and struggled to reform! You don’t think I know her? See, that’s the problem! I met Modestine before you were born, son. She’s a horrible spender! I won’t give either of you a single paisa. Both of you are ungrateful and opportunistic.
DENVER: Are you sure, Dad, because I thought you couldn’t wait to get Mum back?
DELANO: Ah, I see what’s happening here! Modestine wants you to butter me up…for her grand return. (Over the top) Oh, what a wonderful woman she is! And look at her husband…what a cock he is! Ah, he’s taking her back because she’s so nice, and he’s such a wuss! You know, son, I’ve just made up my mind. Even if Modestine wants to come back to me now, no, even if she begs to be taken back, I will not! In fact…in fact, I will divorce her!
(Denver looks down at the mobile phone in his hand and controls his emotions.)
DENVER: Dad, I don’t believe you. You’re a liar. You love her.
DELANO: Are you challenging me?
DENVER: What if I am?
DELANO: See if I care!
DENVER: Can you truly put your hand on your heart and say everything you just said to me one more time?
DELANO: Sure, son. I know you have issues remembering things! Listen now, loud and clear. As long as I don’t have to give money and bear the expenses for a divorce, I would throw signed divorce papers on your mother’s face and end this farce of a marriage. There!
(Denver sighs and presses a switch on the new mobile phone in his hand. Recording replays.)
DELANO (V.O. RECORDING): As long as I don’t have to give money and bear the expenses for a divorce, I would throw signed divorce papers on your mother’s face and end this farce of a marriage. There!
(Denver switches off the recording and puts the new phone in his pocket. From underneath his raincoat, he extracts a set of papers from the jacket pocket.)
DENVER: Thanks, Dad, for the phone. (Hands papers to Delano) Here you go, Mr. Delano D’Souza.
(Beat)
Follow your own lead. Sign the divorce papers, and end the farce of your marriage. Then, give me money to buy that bus ticket so that I can throw these papers on Modestine D’Souza’s face tomorrow morning on your behalf!
(Delano gapes in bewilderment at Denver.)
DELANO: What? She would never…
(Denver takes out the new mobile phone from his pocket and dials a number. The phone is pressed to his ear, and he stands looking out of the window.)
(Thunder claps. Lightning rolls as seen through the window. The rain falls in sheets.)
(Delano takes papers with a trembling hand. He picks up the pen to sign.)
Curtain.
Arpita Bhawal is a writer, playwright and creator. Her first short story, The Birthday Party, was published in 2009 (The Shrinking Woman and Other Stories). In 2014, her debut anthology of shorts, Vices of Eden, received rave reviews on Amazon. The Good Book Corner published Arpita’s 1975 – A Love Story in 2016. Arpita is working on her third after a long hiatus from writing. She lives in Bangalore, India.
Instagram: ab.thewriterlife; X: @bonginexile; Website: www.arpitabhawal.com
Featured photo by cottonbro studio (Pexels)
