STONE GIRLS DREAMING---RAILSBACK 2
STONE GIRLS DREAMING
by Lisa Railsback
Lisa Railsback
10200 Crumley Ranch Rd.
Austin, TX 78738
(512) 487-7187
STONE GIRLS DREAMING
This play is a work of the imagination inspired by a true story.
CAST of CHARACTERS:
AYSHA. Age 17. A Palestinian woman.
REBEKAH. Age 17. An Israeli woman.
AYSHA’s MOTHER.
AHMED. Age 18. Aysha’s friend.
JORY. Age 21. Rebekah’s brother.
ANNA. Age 17. Rebekah’s friend.
*WOMAN.
*MAN.
*THE JINN
*Note: Actors may play multiple parts, or additional actors may be used. The JINN are spirits from Arabic mythology, also known as Genies, and can be played by any of the actors. A “Jinni” refers to just one spirit. The Jinn may be wearing masks.
SETTING:
Various locations in Jerusalem and the West Bank in 2002---the height of the Second Intifada. The event upon which this play is based occurred in 2002. Unfortunately, acts of violence and domination and self-destruction are still occurring today.
The space should be separated into two areas: one for Aysha’s home and the other for Rebekah’s home. The checkpoint may be the divider, through the center of the stage.
Ahmed’s life-size sculptural figures, which may resemble trees, should include the element of newspaper in some way. Otherwise, the designer is encouraged to use his or her imagination with these creations. They are the only necessary set pieces. The Jinn may carry the figures on stage throughout the play, and leave them standing.
Instead of exiting, characters (such as fearful Rebekah) may hide behind Ahmed’s figures, or may pose as figures themselves.
***
PROLOGUE
A JINNI enters with a large basket of stones and begins to scatter them over the ground. Silence, but for the sound of stones dropping. MAN enters whispering a Muslim prayer. WOMAN enters opposite, whispering a Jewish prayer. Scarves cover their heads.
MAN:
In the name of Allah, Most Gracious, Most Merciful...Praise be to Allah, the Cherisher and Sustainer of the worlds. Most Gracious, Most Merciful, Master of the Day of Judgment. Thee do we worship, and Thine aid we seek. Show us the straight way. The way of those on whom Thou hast bestowed thy Grace, those whose portion is not wrath, and who go not astray.
WOMAN:
(overlap) Blessed and praised, glorified and exalted, extolled and honored, adored and lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, beyond all the blessings and hymns, praises and consolations that are ever spoken in the world; and say, Amen. May there be abundant peace from heaven, and life, for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen.
AYSHA and REBEKAH enter from opposite sides, and will remain on stage for the rest of the play. Rebekah holds her camera. Aysha holds her notebook.
AYSHA:
I see the sky through my window. There. Can you see it? Just look up. Blue as a bird’s egg, and it goes on forever. I look up, and Allah looks down, and he says that the sky is just as much mine as anyone’s. No one owns the sky.
REBEKAH:
Through my lens I see water and people, but I always shoot the water. Water doesn’t have unpredictable eyes. It’s safer. Marble eye blue. Water falls, park fountains and rain barrels, water in the bottom of a tiny glass.
AYSHA:
I might’ve written forever, if--—
REBEKAH:
I might’ve taken pictures forever, if--
AYSHA:
It’s a long story.
REBEKAH:
No, it’s short. It happens in three days.
AYSHA:
Thousands of years ago, back to Biblical times.
REBEKAH:
Israelis as the descendents of Isaac---
AYSHA:
Palestinians as the descendents of Ishmael---
REBEKAH:
And both feel they’re the original inhabitants---
BOTH:
Of this land.
REBEKAH:
Some call it mythology.
AYSHA:
Some call it history.
The girls look at each other for the first time. A
confrontation with eyes, as the tension escalates.
REBEKAH:
And there’s so much more. The enslavement of the Jews by the Egyptians--
AYSHA:
The murder of the man called Jesus--
REBEKAH:
The Holocaust in Germany--
AYSHA:
The occupation of Palestine by the Israeli Jews. Some call it a conflict. I call it war. This is my story.
REBEKAH:
No! In three days I make a trip to the store. It’s our story.
AYSHA:
Hers---
BOTH:
And mine.
Rebekah raises her camera to take a picture of
Aysha, but stops.
ALL:
FLASH!
AN EXPLOSION. The girls duck down and cover
their heads.
*****
DAY ONE
A Jinni enters and begins to set up four life-size art figures. Woman and Man move as journalists with Aysha and Rebekah.
MAN:
Another bomb exploded in Jerusalem today, killing four. The Israelis are blaming it on a—
WOMAN:
In America a woman sues McDonald’s today for finding a stone in her cheeseburger!
MAN:
A Palestinian militant group claimed responsibility today for the suicide bombing that took the lives of---
WOMAN:
Today a killer dog ate a man’s leg and buried the bones under—
MAN:
Golden Globe winner lost eighteen pounds and feels fantastic!
WOMAN:
Adamantly denying that she had a nose job or a tummy tuck.
The Man unrolls a map with an arrow and a big X on Jerusalem. It reads: “You are HERE.”
MAN:
The bomb went off here, in the middle of what some call the “Holy Land.”
WOMAN:
What some call Israel.
REBEKAH:
Israelis fought for it and we won!
WOMAN:
The Palestinians living in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip believe it’s their land.
AYSHA:
It is ours. Israel stole it.
REBEKAH:
It’s a mess. A Holy Moly Mess.
AYSHA:
This is Aysha, from Bethlehem, reporting live---
REBEKAH:
This is Rebekah, from Jerusalem, photographing the scene live---
ALL:
On DAY ONE.
Man and Woman exit.
Aysha’s home. She is trying to exit as…AYSHA’s
MOTHER enters.
A’s MOTHER:
Where are you going?
AYSHA:
(turns, caught) School, Mama.
A’S MOTHER:
School doesn’t start for an hour.
AYSHA:
I have…extra work.
A’S MOTHER:
You want to get news about the bombing.
AYSHA:
No!
A’S MOTHER:
I know you too well, my girl. You can’t lie. Every time there’s a bombing you leave early. You have “extra work.” You think I don’t notice?
AYSHA:
I’m going to be a journalist.
A’S MOTHER:
A bombing is not something to be proud of.
AYSHA:
I’m not proud. I just want to know what’s happening.
A’S MOTHER:
How will knowing help?
AYSHA:
I’m not sure, but---
A’S MOTHER:
There’s nothing we can do, love. You need to have patience. Things will change.
AYSHA:
When I’m forty? Or eighty?
A’S MOTHER:
Allah will help us, when it’s time.
ÀYSHA:
Maybe Allah wants us to help ourselves. Maybe he wants our help from down here. Have you
ever thought of that? Maybe his job is too big.
A’s MOTHER:
That’s not wise thinking.
AYSHA:
I know he doesn’t want us living like prisoners in a dirty camp.
A’S MOTHER:
Your Papa works with some nice--
AYSHA:
Some nice Israelis. I know.
A’S MOTHER:
And they’re just like brothers to him. Like family.
AYSHA:
Like family. I know. But some wish we’d disappear like smoke. I know that too.
A’S MOTHER:
You know, you know. Do you know when you became such a fierce little girl?
AYSHA:
(a smile) You raised me, remember? And I’m not little anymore. I’m not fierce. I’m just---
A’S MOTHER:
So stubborn. Curious about everything. So---
AYSHA:
So smart, eh? Straight A’s. Ha.
A’S MOTHER:
Too smart for your own good.
AYSHA:
One story, Mama. If it’s good enough it might get published. I’ll have a better chance of getting into the university. I have to start somewhere.
A’s MOTHER:
It’s harder for a woman.
AYSHA:
I know it’s harder.
Aysha kisses her mother on the cheek.
I’ll see you tonight.
A’S MOTHER:
Walk carefully? Please?
AYSHA:
Don’t worry.
A’S MOTHER:
And Aysha…you’re forgetting.
AYSHA:
But I’m---(a sigh) Okay.
A’s MOTHER:
It’s important now.
ÀYSHA:
(praying quickly) In the name of Allah, Most Gracious, Most Merciful. Praise be to Allah...
(Covertly) And make the greed (covertly) And make the greedy Israelis give us back our land, so we’ll have our Palestine.
A’s MOTHER:
What?
A’MOTHER:
AYSHA:
Nothing. (praying) Bring us peace, Allah. Please? Whatever it takes.
Aysha’s Mother exits. Aysha walks, and then stops to write in her notebook.
Rebekah’s home. Rebekah sits in her room as
JORY, her older brother, enters.
JORY:
Did you hear it, Rebekah?
REBEKAH:
How could I not hear it? It was so close.
JORY:
You still have to go to school.
REBEKAH:
I feel sick.
JORY:
Rebekah---
REBEKAH:
I can’t go, Jory.
JORY:
You have to go. You’ve missed too much already. And it’s not good for you to sit in your room all day.
REBEKAH:
I like my room.
JORY:
You sit here, stare at your goldfish--
REBEKAH:
I like my fish. Look, he’s terrified. His eyes are huge!
JORY:
Take a picture of him then. Swimming around, or something.
REBEKAH:
Maybe later.
JORY:
You’ve been saying that since the funeral. Five days. Maybe you should try, Rebekah. Here, I’ll pose for you. (He poses with a huge smile. Rebekah smiles, just a little, but doesn’t move). Mrs. Kelman wouldn’t want you to quit.
REBEKAH:
I’m not quitting. I just don’t---feel---well.
JORY:
Alright. Fine. But Antia called aga Fine. But Anna called again. She wants to know if—
REP EKAE:
No. lU go to school T want you to REBEKAH:
No. If I go to school I want you to walk me there.
JORY:
I can’t walk with you forever.
I can’t walk you to school forever.
REBEKAH:
I feel safe with you. And we’re closer now. We talk. Brother-sister bonding. That’s not so horrible, is it?
JORY:
You could’ve cared less about bonding last week. You were shopping at the mall and going to parties. You were out with Anna and your friends all the time! You cared more about your hair.
REBEKAH:
I was stupid a week ago. I used to think that if I was a good person no one would have any reason to hurt me. Now, when I look into peoples’ eyes, I’m trying to figure out which eyes like me and which ones don’t. At any time---any random time, Jory---a total stranger can just---
JORY:
The odds are so slim. Come on, you know that.
REBEKAH:
It happened to Mrs. Kelman.
JORY:
Mrs. Kelman was very, very unlucky. She was in a dangerous place.
REBEKAH:
She was working for peace. To help them. And they still got her.
JORY:
Don’t worry. We’ll get them back. (pause) Let’s go.
REBEKAH:
It’s not fair.
JORY:
I’ll wait outside.
Jory exits. Rebekah walks with her camera. Aysha
walks opposite, writing.
AYSHA:
When I walk I look at the sky because it’s horrible to look at the place I live. This camp the Israelis built---and pushed us into---just a couple miles from Jerusalem. Where they live. But...at least my camp hasn’t been completely shot apart yet, like some of the other camps. Exploded
AYSHA: cont’d
into large stone cemeteries.
REBEKAH:
When I walk, I walk fast. I don’t stop to take pictures anymore. And people? I won’t even look at their faces. If I keep moving the odds are better.
Rebekah stops, looking up.
Aysha sees her friend AHMED. He carries a large
box.
AYSHA:
Ahmed!
AHMED:
Where were you?
AYSHA:
At home. I got here as soon as I could. So---?
AHMED:
It happened at a café just a mile from the checkpoint. Israelis were drinking their coffee when a boy walked in. It was wrapped around his waist and no one noticed. And suddenly--
AYSHA:
I heard it.
AHMED:
Three Israelis died with him.
AYSHA:
His parents must be proud.
AHMED:
And sad, Aysha.
AYSHA:
And sad, I know.
AHMED:
I have to make four more now. Three adults and one child.
AYSHA:
You found newspapers?
AHMED:
In the garbage. Behind the market.
AYSHA:
I suppose you want to go to the bombsite.
AHMED:
I have to get across the checkpoint first.
AYSHA:
You want to dig around in the rubble.
AHMED:
I have to get there after the police are finally gone. And the investigators. And the sightseers.
AYSHA:
You want to get yourself killed?
AHMED:
Someone has to collect their things.
Aysha pulls some scraps from the box.
AYSHA:
They’re pieces of things, Ahmed. Scraps of clothes, pages of books, hair ribbons and burned up shoes. You already have so many boxes.
AHMED:
I know.
AYSHA:
Even if you can get across the checkpoint, the Israelis will notice you snooping around. They’ll think you have something to do with it. And when our people see you making your art---
AHMED:
It’s a memorial.
AYSHA:
A memorial. I know. In honor of the killed Israelis---
AHMED:
And Palestinians.
AYSHA:
Still, everyone will think you’re---
AHMED:
A collaborator, I know. A traitor.
AYSHA:
Everyone’s watching.
AHMED:
I’m not afraid.
AYSHA:
And if your dad sees your memorial he’ll be furious.
.
AHMED:
Nah. He’ll just think I’m a coward.
AYSHA:
(gently touches him) You’re not.
AHMED:
I’m making my own statement. Peacefully.
Aysha touches Ahmed’s life-size figure of a boy.
AYSHA:
Will this be the boy? So small.
AHMED:
He was twelve.
Ahmed continues working on it.
I was walking through the alley and I saw this newsflash. Someone was watching it on their T.V. “Suicide Bombing in Jerusalem! Four die.” It showed the ambulances and all these wounded people walking around. Bodies covered with sheets. The boy’s blurry picture flashed on the screen for a second and then he disappeared. Just like that. What will he be in a week from now? A number. What will all four of these people be? More numbers. “Fifty-four die this month! Hundreds die this year in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.” So many numbers.
Aysha picks up something in his box and looks at it closely.
AYSHA:
At least you remember them. As people. And now…I remember them too. Because I’m your friend and I see your box every day. But your memorial is too big to set up all by yourself, Ahmed.