THE SCENE:
THE CHARACTERS:
Zaide Burgess, Leila's father, of the Lochlain Navy; age about 50. (?)
Kerrigan, employed in Leila's office, age 29.
THE SITUATION:
Perhaps a week after Zaide's arrival. Leila, bitter at Zaide for his desertion so many years ago, has ordered him from her house and made it clear she wishes to have nothing more to do with him. On this particular night, Kerrigan has spent the evening at Leila's house, as he sometimes does; she has plied him with liquor and with small talk, and he is feeling more lovelorn and cross than usual.
[Scene 1: Water Row is a tumbledown street running north and south past the Seaman's Shrine. It intersects at one end with High Street, quite near Leila's house. The street is lined with shops, and features the offices of the Sheriff and the Port Agent. ZAIDE walks down the street, hunched into the shadows. He is a tall, rather imposing man, though rather forlorn at the moment; grey-haired and scarred, and shabbily dressed. KERRIGAN enters from High Street: a tall fair-haired fellow about thirty, lean and graceful, with a perpetually mocking look. He starts to veer off to avoid ZAIDE, but as he comes nearer he recognizes him, and stops short, scowling.]
KERRIGAN: Gods dammit. Are you still here?
ZAIDE: [more weary than angry] To hell with you, boy.
KERRIGAN: [a little defensively] Yeah, well. What's keeping you here but her?
ZAIDE: What do you think... you think I have somewhere to go? I don't. I just need some time, all right?
KERRIGAN: [relenting] All right...
ZAIDE: [over him] ...I haven't gone to call on her... I haven't even gone to the goddess- cursed tavern. I don't want to see her if she don't want to be seen... you hear me?
KERRIGAN: [annoyed] All right, dammit!
[ZAIDE stares at him, then shakes his head.]
ZAIDE: Off my back, man.
KERRIGAN: [defensive again] I said all right! Gods of hell, old man. Take it easy.
ZAIDE: [getting defensive right back] Tell me why I should?
KERRIGAN: [sighs, then more gently:] She says there's an ambassador from Lochlain up north. Maybe that one'd help you out.
[ZAIDE sneers and spits.]
ZAIDE: I want nothing from Lochlain... It no longer exists to me.
KERRIGAN: [folds his arms, annoyed] Aren't we uppity suddenly. You don't play meek and humble all that well after all.
ZAIDE: You've got some gall, boy.
[KERRIGAN lets out a bark of laughter.]
KERRIGAN: Me!
ZAIDE: [levelly] I'm not the one chasing you down, giving you hell, boy, I didn't need this in my day. Out of my path. [He starts to walk by; KERRIGAN blocks his way.]
KERRIGAN: [not unkindly] Hold it, dammit.
ZAIDE: [a growl] What?
[KERRIGAN, exasperated by his belligerence, throws up his hands.]
KERRIGAN: Dammit, you're as bad as she is!
[ZAIDE leans in close to him.]
ZAIDE: Make up your mind... but don't keep toying with me.
KERRIGAN: [with a note of torment] Toying with you! Gods! I don't toy with people, your f---ing daughter does! [He blinks, as if he can't believe he just said that. ZAIDE looks right at him, or perhaps through him.]
ZAIDE: Don't call her that. She isn't anything of mine.
KERRIGAN: [falling back a pace] The hell she's not. She's a stubborn clever little bastard and so are you. Must be in the blood.
ZAIDE: Shut up, boy. All we are is dead to each other... and all she learned, she learned alone. Just seems we both have gone to hell and back.
KERRIGAN: [again with that anguished note] Listen, old man, I don't need this from you! I just had it all night from her!
ZAIDE: Then tell me what I need from you? About as much as you need from me... so why don't you just let an old man be.
KERRIGAN: Dammit, you twist things!
ZAIDE: [indignant] I don't! All I know is that I was just trying to cross the street... yet you keep me... you tell me to stay away from Le-- from her... and now you pester me about blood.
KERRIGAN: [scowling at him] You do, dammit. You want to scare me, or you want me to feel sorry for you? Eh? You can't have both.
ZAIDE: [growing irritated] I don't care what the hell you feel, I just want my peace... now do you want something from me, boy? do you? If not... I've not a thing to say to you.
[KERRIGAN stares at him for a moment in silence.]
KERRIGAN: [quietly but clearly] I want you to have been a decent father to her so she wouldn't hate me like she does.
[ZAIDE snorts, less in scorn than in genuine shock.]
ZAIDE: Well, it's twenty-odd years too late. [sarcastically] I'm sorry... but I just can't help you.
KERRIGAN: [frustrated, his hands clench in his pockets] Gods damn you, Burgess, it's not my fault!
ZAIDE: And it is not mine either!
[One hand comes out of KERRIGAN's pocket to point for emphasis.]
KERRIGAN: Now, dammit, that's just what I mean! You don't answer me!
ZAIDE: [baffled] You didn't ask a question! What is there to answer if there is no question?
KERRIGAN: [sighs, and lets his hand fall] Dammit...
[ZAIDE waits, arms folded. KERRIGAN rakes his hand through his hair in agitation. A moment's pause.]
KERRIGAN: [not challengingly, but as if he wants to know] What do you want?
ZAIDE: [exasperated] Who even said I wanted anything? eh? Who stopped me? [KERRIGAN bristles.] Who's talking to me... how can you even ask me that? You say that I twist things... but you... you are the one looking at me with such... desperation.
KERRIGAN: [nonplussed] What?
ZAIDE: [with a shrug] Maybe yer just drunk...
[KERRIGAN seems almost disappointed that ZAIDE, having drawn blood, doesn't just cut to the heart of the thing. He turns away for a moment, then back.]
KERRIGAN: [hoarsely] What d'you mean... desperation?
ZAIDE: [coolly] I'm old, but I'm not a fool. Only a man in love so fervently wishes to protect a woman... even if he is getting paid. [KERRIGAN sucks in his breath sharply as if ZAIDE had physically struck him, and stares at him, without defenses.] I can't make her love you... and you chasing me around won't do it either.
KERRIGAN: [brokenly] Oh, gods damn you... [He looks away. ZAIDE watches him, for a moment almost amused to break him so thoroughly, but then sighs and shakes his head again.] I'm sorry. ZAIDE: Don't be. KERRIGAN: I just... She... [suddenly furious] She's married, dammit, and where's he when she needs him, f*** him? [ZAIDE frowns abruptly.] ZAIDE: Now you listen to me... boy... for here are some things you'd best understand. You must have sailed some time in your life. And every time a sailor goes to sea there is a chance he is never going to come back. It's not his fault... it's not the goddess's fault... it's not anyone's fault... it's just the simple way it is. But men are needed to sail. KERRIGAN: [breaking in] So maybe he isn't coming back! Dammit! I'm here! She won't let me help her--! ZAIDE: Because marriage is about remaining faithful... what if he come back, eh? What then? KERRIGAN: That's not what I mean. ZAIDE: [sternly] Then what do you mean? Speak plainly. KERRIGAN: [scowling] I mean she won't let me help her, dammit! She won't let me do anything for her. She took me on out of pity, I don't know why... but she won't let me help her! [ZAIDE has had enough..] ZAIDE: This leads me back to my original question... What do you want from me? KERRIGAN: [half a wail; he just can't win tonight] Oh goddammit... [He slumps against the front of a shop.] ZAIDE: [somewhat more kindly] If you just want an ear... I can give that... but beyond that... I'm spent. [KERRIGAN looks down at the snowy cobbles and shivers in the wind. A brief pause.] KERRIGAN: [almost shyly] Buy you a drink, old man? ZAIDE: Hell... sure. KERRIGAN: [as if to excuse himself] Damn cold out here. ZAIDE: You should have said that from the beginning. [KERRIGAN pushes himself away from the wall with a graceful movement and heads up the street. ZAIDE walks alongside of him, though giving him a wide berth.] [Scene 2: The Twisted Fish is a run-down little place, with mismatched furniture and odd nautical curios scattered about. The only thing that looks especially prosperous is the blazing fire in the hearth. KERRIGAN holds the door for ZAIDE, then walks in after him, half falling against the bar. ZAIDE walks to the bar and sits down heavily.] ZAIDE: [to ESCARGOT] Rum... KERRIGAN: Damned weather. [He pokes in his pocket, withdraws a penny, and tosses it down, not without pride. ZAIDEopens his rum and takes a long drink. Quietly:] She doesn't come in here anymore, 'cept to ask after Hathorne sometimes. You don' have to stay away. ZAIDE: [nods slowly] How long he been absent? I guess it can't be much more than... so many months. [KERRIGAN rubs his chin.] KERRIGAN: Five, six -- Six months, Theo? ZAIDE: How long was he supposed to be gone? KERRIGAN: [sighs] A month, maybe. I guess. [He drops to a seat.] ZAIDE: And no word? [KERRIGAN shakes his head.] He's not coming back... I'll wager.