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Parole<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>transito</strong><br />
TRACCE DI GIOVANI<br />
INVISIBILI<br />
A cura di<br />
Federica D’Arm<strong>in</strong>i<br />
Daniela De Lillo<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a Gavrilita<br />
Elias Rafail
I edizione ottobre 2011<br />
© 2011 Elliot Edizioni s.r.l.<br />
via Isonzo 34, 00198 Roma<br />
Tutti i diritti riserv<strong>at</strong>i<br />
Il presente progetto è f<strong>in</strong>anzi<strong>at</strong>o con il sostegno della Commissione europea.<br />
L’autore è il solo responsabile di questa pubblicazione e la Commissione decl<strong>in</strong>a ogni responsabilità sull’uso<br />
che potrà essere f<strong>at</strong>to delle <strong>in</strong>formazioni <strong>in</strong> essa contenute.<br />
This project has been funded with support from the European Commission.<br />
This public<strong>at</strong>ion reflects the views only of the author, and the Commission cannot be held responsible<br />
for any use which may be made of the <strong>in</strong>form<strong>at</strong>ion conta<strong>in</strong>ed there<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Traduzione dal greco all’<strong>in</strong>glese: L<strong>in</strong>da Zanni<br />
Traduzione dal rumeno all’<strong>in</strong>glese: Nicoleta Bos¸nigeanu<br />
Traduzione dall’italiano all’<strong>in</strong>glese: He<strong>at</strong>her Milligan<br />
Traduzione dall’<strong>in</strong>glese all’italiano: Giuseppe Maugeri e Manuela Francescon<br />
Cover design: Laura Oliva<br />
www.elliotedizioni.com
Parole<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>transito</strong><br />
TRACCE DI GIOVANI<br />
INVISIBILI<br />
A cura di<br />
Federica D’Arm<strong>in</strong>i<br />
Daniela De Lillo<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a Gavrilita<br />
Elias Rafail
Modi differenti per ricercare la medesima strada: quella che conduce alla scoperta<br />
delle possibilità per resistere, far fronte, trasformare, sviluppare e costruire […] un<br />
percorso, una comunità, una società civile capace di <strong>in</strong>tegrare le differenze e le uguaglianze<br />
nel rispetto di tutti e di ciascuno.<br />
Different ways of search<strong>in</strong>g for the same p<strong>at</strong>h: the one lead<strong>in</strong>g to the dis<strong>cover</strong>y of one’s ability<br />
to resist, cope, transform, develop and build… a p<strong>at</strong>h, a community, a civil society capable<br />
of <strong>in</strong>tegr<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g the diversity and equality of each and every one of its members.<br />
ELENA MALAGUTI, Articolazioni teoriche della resilienza, <strong>in</strong> Costruire la resilienza. La<br />
riorganizzazione positiva della vita e la creazione di legami signific<strong>at</strong>ivi, a cura di B.<br />
Cyrulnik ed E. Malaguti, Edizioni Erickson, Trento, 2005.
Prefazione<br />
I testi raccolti nella presente pubblicazione rappresentano l’esito del percorso<br />
di formazione che 157 giovani 1 – di età compresa tra i dodici e i ventic<strong>in</strong>que anni<br />
– e 61 oper<strong>at</strong>ori 2 hanno <strong>in</strong>trapreso all’<strong>in</strong>terno dei Labor<strong>at</strong>ori sulle Teorie e Tecniche<br />
di scrittura te<strong>at</strong>rale e rappresentazione realizz<strong>at</strong>i nell’ambito del progetto transnazionale<br />
di Trasferimento dell’Innovazione (ToI) «Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re», co-f<strong>in</strong>anzi<strong>at</strong>o<br />
dalla Comunità Europea <strong>at</strong>traverso il Programma di Apprendimento Permanente<br />
(LLP) – Programma settoriale Leonardo da V<strong>in</strong>ci (2009-2011).<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>tervento è st<strong>at</strong>o svilupp<strong>at</strong>o su tre contesti nazionali (Italia, Grecia e Romania)<br />
e rel<strong>at</strong>ivi territori locali e regionali: <strong>in</strong> Italia sono st<strong>at</strong>e co<strong>in</strong>volte le regioni<br />
Trent<strong>in</strong>o Alto Adige, Lazio e Basilic<strong>at</strong>a; mentre <strong>in</strong> Grecia e Romania sono st<strong>at</strong>e<br />
co<strong>in</strong>volte le aree territoriali comprese, rispettivamente, da Atene e Bucarest.<br />
Tutti i testi proposti derivano da trame e racconti concepiti da giovani autori selezion<strong>at</strong>i<br />
<strong>at</strong>traverso la pubblicazione di un bando. I testi v<strong>in</strong>citori sono st<strong>at</strong>i successivamente<br />
rielabor<strong>at</strong>i e riad<strong>at</strong>t<strong>at</strong>i nell’ambito dei Labor<strong>at</strong>ori, <strong>at</strong>traverso la collaborazione<br />
tra i form<strong>at</strong>ori Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re (form<strong>at</strong>i nell’ambito dello stesso progetto)<br />
e i giovani autori partecipanti. Il lungo lavoro realizz<strong>at</strong>o ha prodotto testi <strong>in</strong>dividuali<br />
e collettivi che disegnano storie, a volte oniriche e a volte leg<strong>at</strong>e al vissuto quotidiano<br />
o al contesto sociale degli autori, ambient<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong> luoghi lontani o sospesi nel<br />
tempo, all’<strong>in</strong>terno di una scuola o di una famiglia, secondo stili molto diversi. Sono<br />
monologhi, poesie, canzoni, brevi o lunghe pièces te<strong>at</strong>rali, «visioni o quadri».<br />
5
La prima parte di questa pubblicazione è dedic<strong>at</strong>a ai giovani autori italiani – si<br />
tr<strong>at</strong>ta a volte di stranieri residenti <strong>in</strong> Italia. I testi vengono proposti sia <strong>in</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>ale,<br />
sia <strong>in</strong> versione <strong>in</strong>glese.<br />
La seconda parte presenta i testi elabor<strong>at</strong>i all’<strong>in</strong>terno dei Labor<strong>at</strong>ori realizz<strong>at</strong>i <strong>in</strong><br />
Grecia, sia <strong>in</strong> versione orig<strong>in</strong>ale, sia <strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong>glese e italiano.<br />
Inf<strong>in</strong>e, l’ultima parte è dedic<strong>at</strong>a agli scritti dei giovani autori romeni, anch’essi<br />
<strong>in</strong> versione orig<strong>in</strong>ale, <strong>in</strong>glese e italiana.<br />
A tutti i ragazzi e agli oper<strong>at</strong>ori che li hanno support<strong>at</strong>i e seguiti va il nostro r<strong>in</strong>graziamento<br />
per aver dedic<strong>at</strong>o a noi tempo prezioso e aver reso Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re<br />
un’esperienza umana e di vita, possibile.<br />
Note<br />
1. Tra i quali: dropouts, studenti a rischio di abbandono, studenti scuole superiori, immigr<strong>at</strong>i,<br />
disoccup<strong>at</strong>i, giovani con disabilità mentali, giovani a rischio (dipendenza da droghe,<br />
crim<strong>in</strong>alità).<br />
2. Tra cui Psicologi, Educ<strong>at</strong>ori, Insegnanti, Orient<strong>at</strong>ori e Assistenti Sociali oper<strong>at</strong>ivi<br />
presso: ONG, Scuole secondarie superiori, Centri di assistenza, recupero e re<strong>in</strong>serimento<br />
(che si occupano di adulti e m<strong>in</strong>ori con disabilità mentali, del<strong>in</strong>quenza m<strong>in</strong>orile, giovani<br />
dipendenti da droghe, donne e bamb<strong>in</strong>i), Servizi sociali che si occupano di disoccup<strong>at</strong>i, immigr<strong>at</strong>i<br />
e rifugi<strong>at</strong>i, Centri di assistenza sanitaria territoriali, Case famiglia, Agenzie per l’orientamento<br />
e la formazione, Centri Giovani.<br />
6
Introduzione<br />
E poi […] vennero i testi dei ragazzi […]. E sorridi, pensando alla f<strong>at</strong>ica di appoggiare<br />
la penna sul foglio bianco, di metterti <strong>in</strong> gioco raccontando il percorso f<strong>at</strong>to, il viaggio.<br />
Sì, il viaggio potrebbe essere un buon contenitore, <strong>in</strong> fondo tutti siamo alla ricerca<br />
di qualcosa che ci sp<strong>in</strong>ga ad affrontare una nuova esperienza, per comprendere e<br />
scoprire noi stessi, luoghi che non ci appartengono, culture lontane e diverse. I testi<br />
proposti erano tanti […] ma era necessario un loro riad<strong>at</strong>tamento, era il momento di<br />
utilizzare quanto avevamo appreso […]. E si parte […] dai testi che hanno scritto i ragazzi.<br />
I racconti, proprio come i loro autori, sono molto diversi tra loro, per storia, stile,<br />
ambientazione […]. La lettura richiede più <strong>at</strong>tenzione del previsto: cosa valorizzare?<br />
Quali stimoli fornire? Come giungere a elaborare un solo «<strong>at</strong>to unico»? […]. Dovevamo<br />
giocare con le <strong>parole</strong> e con i personaggi, farli vivere e plasmarli rispettando il<br />
senso e lo stile che l’autore aveva d<strong>at</strong>o alla storia […]. E lentamente, <strong>at</strong>traverso la nostra<br />
penna, la trama ha preso vita, i personaggi, i luoghi, le d<strong>in</strong>amiche erano davanti<br />
a noi. Stava avvenendo la trasformazione: da form<strong>at</strong>i a form<strong>at</strong>ori […]. Trasmettere<br />
quanto avevamo appreso è st<strong>at</strong>a la parte più difficile ed emozionante del percorso.<br />
Tutto quello che avevamo speriment<strong>at</strong>o sulla nostra pelle, doveva essere messo al loro<br />
servizio. […] Ci rimbocchiamo le maniche. Ci confrontiamo con i ragazzi.<br />
[Estr<strong>at</strong>ti dai Diari di Bordo degli oper<strong>at</strong>ori Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re co<strong>in</strong>volti nei Labor<strong>at</strong>ori<br />
realizz<strong>at</strong>i <strong>in</strong> Italia]<br />
Non è la prima volta – e, speriamo, non sarà l’ultima – che storie e racconti di giovani<br />
che sperimentano la propria capacità comunic<strong>at</strong>iva vengono collazion<strong>at</strong>i e va-<br />
7
lorizz<strong>at</strong>i <strong>in</strong> una pubblicazione a stampa. Ma non è altrettanto frequente che un simile<br />
risult<strong>at</strong>o sia raggiunto <strong>in</strong> esito a un percorso di m<strong>at</strong>urazione che co<strong>in</strong>volge gli<br />
autori e i propri mentori <strong>in</strong> un processo di apprendimento cont<strong>in</strong>uo e reciproco.<br />
Un processo che non nasce <strong>in</strong> una redazione, che non co<strong>in</strong>volge solo professionisti,<br />
che si realizza <strong>in</strong> un contesto di cooperazione transnazionale. Un processo<br />
che prende avvio dallo scambio e dalla condivisione di esperienze, riflessioni e prospettive<br />
tra persone – poiché le strutture sono f<strong>at</strong>te di persone – che hanno scelto<br />
e port<strong>at</strong>o avanti un percorso professionale diverso (editori, ricerc<strong>at</strong>ori, <strong>at</strong>tori, form<strong>at</strong>ori,<br />
oper<strong>at</strong>ori sociali, orient<strong>at</strong>ori) e che nonostante la distanza geografica, culturale<br />
e l<strong>in</strong>guistica (tre Paesi – Italia, Grecia e Romania – e qu<strong>at</strong>tro l<strong>in</strong>gue – italiano,<br />
<strong>in</strong>glese, greco e romeno) hanno deciso di condividere una nuova sfida.<br />
Chi conosce il duro lavoro della progettazione e l’ancor più arduo compito della<br />
realizzazione di un progetto, conosce la difficile e lunga tessitura di reti e relazioni<br />
che esso implica, comprende la sfida sottesa al disegnare scenari possibili che<br />
devono essere concretamente «f<strong>at</strong>tibili e sostenibili».<br />
Nel nostro caso, siamo st<strong>at</strong>i sp<strong>in</strong>ti dalla volontà di <strong>in</strong>tervenire per riproporre e<br />
riaffermare – implicando ripensare noi stessi e stimolare gli altri a riconsiderare –<br />
l’efficacia e la validità di metodi e strumenti che promuovono la cooperazione e la<br />
«contam<strong>in</strong>azione» tra il contesto educ<strong>at</strong>ivo-form<strong>at</strong>ivo <strong>in</strong>formale e quello formale.<br />
Metodologie (cui sono associ<strong>at</strong>i fondamenti teorici, tecniche e strumenti specifici)<br />
che si <strong>in</strong>seriscono nel più ampio quadro delle pr<strong>at</strong>iche che hanno come obiettivo<br />
il recupero o re-<strong>in</strong>serimento di soggetti a rischio di esclusione socioeconomica<br />
e occupazionale (siano essi giovani o adulti) e che sono bas<strong>at</strong>e su una c<strong>at</strong>egoria<br />
pedagogica ormai ampiamente riconosciuta: l’assunzione della cura del sé. E<br />
nonostante tale riconoscimento sia testimoni<strong>at</strong>o da tanta letter<strong>at</strong>ura centr<strong>at</strong>a sul<br />
ripensamento delle discipl<strong>in</strong>e pedagogiche, form<strong>at</strong>ive e psicologiche, tali pr<strong>at</strong>iche<br />
e metodi (tra cui possiamo citare la narrazione, l’autobiografia, le storie di vita<br />
quali tecniche da anni applic<strong>at</strong>e anche nell’educazione degli adulti), sono ancora<br />
oggi «osserv<strong>at</strong>e con sospetto» – sia dai sistemi e servizi preposti (educ<strong>at</strong>ivi, form<strong>at</strong>ivi,<br />
socio assistenziali, ecc.), sia dai professionisti di settore (docenti, form<strong>at</strong>ori,<br />
counsellors, ecc) – adott<strong>at</strong>e raramente o <strong>in</strong> modo discont<strong>in</strong>uo o, a volte, applic<strong>at</strong>e<br />
<strong>in</strong> modo poco professionale, con il rischio che, <strong>in</strong> prospettiva, cont<strong>in</strong>u<strong>in</strong>o a rappresentare<br />
«un’altern<strong>at</strong>iva» poco affidabile o credibile solo agli occhi di «pochi».<br />
Il terreno di gioco che abbiamo scelto per la nostra sfida è il Te<strong>at</strong>ro per l’<strong>in</strong>clusione<br />
sociale, vale a dire l’applicazione, <strong>in</strong> chiave pedagogico-form<strong>at</strong>iva, delle tecniche<br />
di scrittura e recitazione proprie del Te<strong>at</strong>ro Sociale. Di conseguenza, il<br />
contesto (sett<strong>in</strong>g) did<strong>at</strong>tico adott<strong>at</strong>o è st<strong>at</strong>o il Labor<strong>at</strong>orio, <strong>in</strong> quanto rimanda alla<br />
sperimentazione e al learn<strong>in</strong>g by do<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> un luogo diverso dall’aula, organizz<strong>at</strong>o<br />
come una comunità di pr<strong>at</strong>iche fond<strong>at</strong>a sulla scoperta e valorizzazione delle<br />
8
capacità riflessive, auto-riflessive e <strong>at</strong>tu<strong>at</strong>ive degli <strong>in</strong>dividui (giovani e adulti) che<br />
ne fanno parte.<br />
In un panorama generale di riscoperta che lo sviluppo sociale ed economico di<br />
un Paese è strettamente connesso alla crescita personale e professionale dei s<strong>in</strong>goli<br />
<strong>in</strong>dividui, riportare l’<strong>at</strong>tenzione su pr<strong>at</strong>iche bas<strong>at</strong>e sull’utilizzo e promozione<br />
delle capacità «altre» (cre<strong>at</strong>ive e riflessive) – <strong>at</strong>tivabili per <strong>in</strong>dividuare risposte orig<strong>in</strong>ali<br />
rispetto a problemi esistenti – e il loro applicarle <strong>in</strong> contesti di apprendimento<br />
che valorizz<strong>in</strong>o il confronto e la sperimentazione su base esperienziale (il labor<strong>at</strong>orio)<br />
consente di riaffermare:<br />
• la centralità del formando <strong>in</strong> quanto <strong>in</strong>dividualità irripetibile, la cui «cura» richiede<br />
necessariamente la disponibilità di servizi form<strong>at</strong>ivi, educ<strong>at</strong>ivi e di orientamento<br />
<strong>in</strong> grado di valorizzarne anche le conoscenze apprese <strong>in</strong> contesti<br />
<strong>in</strong>formali e non formali di apprendimento;<br />
• la necessità di <strong>in</strong>tegrare e aggiornare ruoli e competenze dei «medi<strong>at</strong>ori» della<br />
formazione e degli oper<strong>at</strong>ori di orientamento, <strong>in</strong> modo tale che essi stessi nell’apprendere<br />
collabor<strong>in</strong>o pro<strong>at</strong>tivamente alla co-costruzione del sapere di altri,<br />
<strong>in</strong> qualità di facilit<strong>at</strong>ori di processi (il facilit<strong>at</strong>ore organizza e gestisce la formazione<br />
costruendo una relazione maestro-allievo diversa da quella prevista nei<br />
modelli did<strong>at</strong>tici tradizionali, <strong>in</strong> cui si dà voce a chi apprende e lo si considera<br />
autonomo e responsabile del proprio apprendimento e sviluppo);<br />
• l’esigenza di ritarare i processi educ<strong>at</strong>ivi e form<strong>at</strong>ivi applicando una logica che<br />
promuova la cooperazione e <strong>in</strong>tegrazione tra figure, competenze e <strong>at</strong>torialità<br />
diverse, appartenenti allo stesso sistema.<br />
L’ambito form<strong>at</strong>ivo che abbiamo scelto è la scrittura, e <strong>in</strong> particolare quella te<strong>at</strong>rale,<br />
<strong>in</strong> quanto implica la visione di uno spazio (quello scenico) che rimanda non solo<br />
all’<strong>in</strong>dividuo, ma anche alla collettività (il contesto, il pubblico o i lettori) e al<br />
gruppo (quello con cui si lavora all’<strong>in</strong>terno di un labor<strong>at</strong>orio o su un palco).<br />
Scrittura, lettura, riflessività, discipl<strong>in</strong>a, lavoro di gruppo, comunicazione, l<strong>in</strong>gua<br />
e l<strong>in</strong>guaggio (verbale e paraverbale), collaborazione, partecipazione, scambio e<br />
confronto, sono «competenze» a cui tutti, giovani o adulti, studenti o professionisti,<br />
dobbiamo saper ritornare, imparare e re-imparare per tutto il corso della vita.<br />
9
Preface<br />
The scripts collected <strong>in</strong> this book are the result of a tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g course whose participants<br />
<strong>in</strong>cluded 157 young people 1 – rang<strong>in</strong>g from 12 to 25 years old – and 61<br />
professionals 2 who took part <strong>in</strong> a series of workshops on the Theory and Techniques<br />
of The<strong>at</strong>re Writ<strong>in</strong>g and Performance as part of the Transn<strong>at</strong>ional project of<br />
Transfer of Innov<strong>at</strong>ion (ToI) «Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re», co-funded by the European<br />
Community through the Lifelong Learn<strong>in</strong>g Programme (LLP) – Leonardo da<br />
V<strong>in</strong>ci (2009-2011) sub-programme.<br />
The project has been implemented <strong>in</strong> three different n<strong>at</strong>ional contexts (Italy,<br />
Greece And Romania). In Italy have been <strong>in</strong>volved the Trent<strong>in</strong>o Alto Adige,<br />
Lazio and Basilic<strong>at</strong>a Regions while <strong>in</strong> Greece and Romania were <strong>in</strong>volved Athens<br />
and Bucharest and their respective surround<strong>in</strong>g regions.<br />
All of the scripts presented come from plots and stories cre<strong>at</strong>ed by young authors<br />
and were selected after the public<strong>at</strong>ion of an announcement. The w<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g<br />
scripts were subsequently reworked and readapted dur<strong>in</strong>g a series of workshops<br />
through the collabor<strong>at</strong>ion of Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re Tra<strong>in</strong>ers (tra<strong>in</strong>ed through the<br />
same project) and the particip<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g young authors. The outcome of their extensive<br />
hard work are <strong>in</strong>dividual and collective works th<strong>at</strong> sketch out stories, <strong>at</strong><br />
times dreamlike and <strong>at</strong> others expressions of the daily life or the social context of<br />
the authors, set <strong>in</strong> faraway places or places frozen <strong>in</strong> time, <strong>in</strong>side a <strong>school</strong> or a<br />
family, us<strong>in</strong>g a variety of different writ<strong>in</strong>g styles. There are monologues, poems,<br />
songs, short and long the<strong>at</strong>rical pieces, «visions and portraits».<br />
10
The first part of this collection is dedic<strong>at</strong>ed to young Italian authors, some of<br />
whom are foreigners who are residents <strong>in</strong> Italy. The scripts are presented both <strong>in</strong><br />
the orig<strong>in</strong>al Italian and <strong>in</strong> English.<br />
The second part presents scripts elabor<strong>at</strong>ed dur<strong>in</strong>g a series of workshops th<strong>at</strong><br />
took place <strong>in</strong> Greece <strong>in</strong> the orig<strong>in</strong>al Greek, Italian and English.<br />
F<strong>in</strong>ally, the last part is dedic<strong>at</strong>ed to the writ<strong>in</strong>gs of young Romanian authors,<br />
also presented <strong>in</strong> the orig<strong>in</strong>al Romanian, Italian and English.<br />
We would like to thank the young people and professionals who followed<br />
them and provided them with support for their precious time and for mak<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re, a human, life-chang<strong>in</strong>g experience, possible.<br />
Notes<br />
1. Among them are dropouts, students <strong>at</strong> risk of dropp<strong>in</strong>g out, high <strong>school</strong> students,<br />
immigrants, the unemployed, mentally disabled youth and <strong>at</strong>-risk youth (drug addicted<br />
and crim<strong>in</strong>als)..<br />
2. Among them are Psychologists, Tra<strong>in</strong>ers, Teachers, Counsellors and Social Workers<br />
work<strong>in</strong>g for NGOs, high <strong>school</strong>s, counsell<strong>in</strong>g, rehabilit<strong>at</strong>ion and re<strong>in</strong>tegr<strong>at</strong>ion centers (th<strong>at</strong><br />
work with mentally disabled adults and m<strong>in</strong>ors, juvenile del<strong>in</strong>quents, young drug addicts,<br />
women and children); social services for the unemployed, immigrants and refugees; area<br />
healthcare centers, groups homes, orient<strong>at</strong>ion and tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g agencies and youth centers.<br />
11
12<br />
Introduction<br />
And then […] the kids scripts arrived […] And the smiles, th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g about the difficulty<br />
of putt<strong>in</strong>g pen to the blank page, of putt<strong>in</strong>g yourself on the l<strong>in</strong>e recount<strong>in</strong>g<br />
your own experiences, your journey. Yes, the journey could be a good vessel; <strong>in</strong> the<br />
end, we are all search<strong>in</strong>g for someth<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> pushes us to confront new experiences,<br />
to understand and dis<strong>cover</strong> ourselves, places th<strong>at</strong> are foreign to us, faraway and different<br />
cultures. Many scripts were presented […] but they needed to be reworked, it<br />
was time to use wh<strong>at</strong> we had learned.[…] And th<strong>at</strong>’s how it all began […] from the<br />
scripts written by these kids. The stories, just like their authors, are all very different<br />
from one another, their stories, their style, their sett<strong>in</strong>g […] They required a more<br />
careful read<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> we expected: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you develop? Wh<strong>at</strong> stimulus do you provide?<br />
How do you elabor<strong>at</strong>e on a one act play? […] We had to play with the words<br />
and the characters, bre<strong>at</strong>he life <strong>in</strong>to them and mould them while cont<strong>in</strong>u<strong>in</strong>g to respect<br />
the mean<strong>in</strong>g and style given to the story by the author […] And slowly,<br />
through the work of our pen, the plot began to take on a life of its own, the characters,<br />
the places, the dynamics were there <strong>in</strong> front of us. A transform<strong>at</strong>ion was tak<strong>in</strong>g<br />
place: from tra<strong>in</strong>ees to tra<strong>in</strong>ers […]. Pass<strong>in</strong>g on everyth<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> we had learned was<br />
the most difficult and emotional part of the process. Everyth<strong>in</strong>g we had experienced<br />
personally had to be made available to them. […] We’ll roll back our sleeves and face<br />
up to these kids.<br />
[Taken from the daily log of the Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re tra<strong>in</strong>ers <strong>in</strong>volved <strong>in</strong> the workshops carried<br />
out <strong>in</strong> Italy]
It is not the first, nor, we hope, will it be the last time th<strong>at</strong> stories written by young<br />
people experiment<strong>in</strong>g with their own ability to communic<strong>at</strong>e are collected and<br />
presented <strong>in</strong> a published form. Though, it is equally rare th<strong>at</strong> a similar outcome is<br />
reached through a growth process <strong>in</strong>volv<strong>in</strong>g authors and their mentors <strong>in</strong> a cont<strong>in</strong>uous<br />
and reciprocal learn<strong>in</strong>g process.<br />
This process is one th<strong>at</strong> does not orig<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>e from an editorial staff, does not only<br />
<strong>in</strong>volve professionals and th<strong>at</strong> takes place <strong>in</strong> a context of transn<strong>at</strong>ional co-oper<strong>at</strong>ion.<br />
A process set off by people exchang<strong>in</strong>g and shar<strong>in</strong>g experiences, reflections<br />
and perspectives – s<strong>in</strong>ce the structures are made up of people. People who have<br />
chosen and pursue different professions (editors, researchers, actors, tra<strong>in</strong>ers, social<br />
workers and counsellors) and who, despite geographic, cultural and l<strong>in</strong>guistic<br />
differences (three countries – Italy, Greece and Romania – and four languages<br />
– Italian, English, Greek and Romanian) have decided to undertake a new challenge<br />
together.<br />
Anyone who is familiar with the difficult task of project plann<strong>in</strong>g and the even<br />
more difficult task of see<strong>in</strong>g a project through is also familiar with the complic<strong>at</strong>ed<br />
and time-consum<strong>in</strong>g tasks of cre<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g networks and rel<strong>at</strong>ionships th<strong>at</strong> go along<br />
with this.<br />
In our case, we were all motiv<strong>at</strong>ed by the desire to get <strong>in</strong>volved <strong>in</strong> order to<br />
question and reaffirm, which also implied us reth<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g and stimul<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g others<br />
to reconsider, the efficacy and validity of methods and tools used to promote cooper<strong>at</strong>ion<br />
and «contam<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion» between <strong>in</strong>formal and formal educ<strong>at</strong>ion-tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g<br />
contexts.<br />
These methodologies (associ<strong>at</strong>ed with theoretical and technical fundamentals<br />
as well as with specific tools) fit <strong>in</strong>to the broader framework of practices aimed <strong>at</strong><br />
the rehabilit<strong>at</strong>ion or re-<strong>in</strong>tegr<strong>at</strong>ion of <strong>in</strong>dividuals <strong>at</strong> risk of socio-economic and<br />
occup<strong>at</strong>ional exclusion (both young people and adults) and have their roots <strong>in</strong> a<br />
pedagogical c<strong>at</strong>egory th<strong>at</strong> is now widely recognized: accept<strong>in</strong>g the responsibility<br />
of car<strong>in</strong>g for oneself. Although much liter<strong>at</strong>ure centred on the reth<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g of pedagogical,<br />
educ<strong>at</strong>ional and psychological discipl<strong>in</strong>es <strong>at</strong>tests to this, these practices<br />
and methods (such as narr<strong>at</strong>ion, autobiography and life stories, techniques for<br />
years used <strong>in</strong> the educ<strong>at</strong>ion of adults) are «looked upon with suspicion» even today,<br />
both by the specific systems and services (educ<strong>at</strong>ional, tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g, social welfare,<br />
etc.) and by professionals <strong>in</strong> this sector (teachers, tra<strong>in</strong>ers, counsellors, etc.),<br />
are rarely or discont<strong>in</strong>uously adopted or are <strong>at</strong> times even used unprofessionally,<br />
cre<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g the risk th<strong>at</strong>, <strong>in</strong> perspective, these methods cont<strong>in</strong>ue to be unreliable and<br />
credible «altern<strong>at</strong>ives» only <strong>in</strong> the eyes of a few.<br />
The play<strong>in</strong>g field we have chosen for our challenge is the The<strong>at</strong>re for social <strong>in</strong>clusion,<br />
namely the applic<strong>at</strong>ion, from a pedagogical-tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g standpo<strong>in</strong>t, of the<br />
13
techniques of writ<strong>in</strong>g and act<strong>in</strong>g of the Social The<strong>at</strong>re. As a consequence, the didactic<br />
context (sett<strong>in</strong>g) is th<strong>at</strong> of the Workshop as a forum for experiment<strong>at</strong>ion and<br />
learn<strong>in</strong>g-by-do<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a place other than the classroom, organized as a community<br />
of practices rooted <strong>in</strong> the dis<strong>cover</strong>y and development of the <strong>in</strong>dividual participants’<br />
(young people’s and adults’) ability to reflect, self-reflect and put <strong>in</strong>to action.<br />
When we redis<strong>cover</strong> th<strong>at</strong> the social and economic development of a country is<br />
strictly l<strong>in</strong>ked to the personal and professional growth of its s<strong>in</strong>gle <strong>in</strong>dividuals, <strong>at</strong>tention<br />
is drawn back to the practices th<strong>at</strong> use and encourage the development of<br />
«other» abilities (cre<strong>at</strong>ive and reflective) – activ<strong>at</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> order to identify orig<strong>in</strong>al responses<br />
to exist<strong>in</strong>g problems – and their applic<strong>at</strong>ion <strong>in</strong> learn<strong>in</strong>g contexts th<strong>at</strong> exploit<br />
confront<strong>at</strong>ion and experiment<strong>at</strong>ion based upon experience (the workshop),<br />
allow<strong>in</strong>g the follow<strong>in</strong>g to be reaffirmed:<br />
• The centrality of the tra<strong>in</strong>ees as unique <strong>in</strong>dividuals, whose «care» necessarily requires<br />
the availability of tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g, educ<strong>at</strong>ional and counsell<strong>in</strong>g services capable<br />
of develop<strong>in</strong>g even the knowledge acquired <strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong>formal and non-formal learn<strong>in</strong>g<br />
contexts.<br />
• The need to <strong>in</strong>tegr<strong>at</strong>e and upd<strong>at</strong>e the roles and competences of tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g and<br />
counsell<strong>in</strong>g «medi<strong>at</strong>ors», so th<strong>at</strong> as they learn they proactively collabor<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong><br />
the co-construction of others’ knowledge, as facilit<strong>at</strong>ors of processes (a facilit<strong>at</strong>or<br />
organizes and manages tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g by build<strong>in</strong>g a teacher – student rel<strong>at</strong>ionship<br />
th<strong>at</strong> is different from the one found <strong>in</strong> traditional didactical models, <strong>in</strong> which<br />
the learners are given a voice and are considered autonomous and responsible<br />
for their own learn<strong>in</strong>g and development).<br />
• The need to recalibr<strong>at</strong>e educ<strong>at</strong>ional and tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g processes apply<strong>in</strong>g a logic th<strong>at</strong><br />
promotes cooper<strong>at</strong>ion and <strong>in</strong>tegr<strong>at</strong>ion among roles, skills and the different act<strong>in</strong>g<br />
skills belong<strong>in</strong>g to the same system.<br />
We have chosen writ<strong>in</strong>g as our field of tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g and <strong>in</strong> particular the<strong>at</strong>re writ<strong>in</strong>g<br />
because it implies envision<strong>in</strong>g a space (the stage) th<strong>at</strong> recalls not only the <strong>in</strong>dividual<br />
but also the collectivity (the context, the audience, the readers) and the group<br />
(the one with which one works <strong>in</strong> a workshop or on a stage).<br />
Writ<strong>in</strong>g, read<strong>in</strong>g, reflection, discipl<strong>in</strong>e, group work, communic<strong>at</strong>ion, language<br />
as well as verbal and paraverbal communic<strong>at</strong>ion, collabor<strong>at</strong>ion, particip<strong>at</strong>ion,<br />
exchange and confront<strong>at</strong>ion are the «skills» th<strong>at</strong> everyone, young people and<br />
adults, students and professionals must know how to learn, re-learn and go back<br />
to throughout the course of their lives.<br />
14
ITALIA<br />
ITALY
Dest<strong>in</strong>i e dest<strong>in</strong>azioni<br />
ASL RmB (Roma)<br />
Associazione culturale giovanile «Offic<strong>in</strong>a 2.0» (Canale Monterano – Roma)<br />
Casa famiglia «Il giard<strong>in</strong>o di pace» (Roma)<br />
Apofil Rionero-Venosa<br />
TESTI VINCITORI DI<br />
Giulia Barbieri Eduardo, Antonela Brocco, Andreza Carcione, Pasquale Coppola,<br />
Elisa Ferrazza, Giuseppe Gerardi, Giulio Longo, Germana Magagn<strong>in</strong>i,<br />
M<strong>at</strong>teo Marani, Ilaria Morelli, Valent<strong>in</strong>a Ricci, Angelo Vacirca<br />
ADATTATI SCENICAMENTE CON<br />
Fabrizio Bordignon, Carlotta Leoni, V<strong>in</strong>cenza Loprei<strong>at</strong>o, Sab<strong>in</strong>a Parisi,<br />
Simona Pett<strong>in</strong>ari, Antonio Roma, Paola Ventura<br />
Personaggi<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o, il barista (35-40 anni)<br />
Giulia, l’estetista (30 anni)<br />
Maria, avvoc<strong>at</strong>o (32 anni)<br />
Rapper (20 anni)<br />
Andreza, la mamma (25 anni)<br />
Angelo, ragazzo (20 anni)<br />
Pietro, il depresso (25 anni)<br />
Elena, la scrittrice (33 anni)<br />
SUPERVISIONE ARTISTICA A CURA DI<br />
Daniela De Lillo<br />
Siamo <strong>in</strong> un bar all’aeroporto: voci, emozioni, storie s’<strong>in</strong>crociano, si r<strong>in</strong>corrono,<br />
si accavallano <strong>in</strong> un andirivieni cont<strong>in</strong>uo di arrivi e partenze, abbandoni e addii,<br />
ricostruzioni e cambiamenti. Depositario di tante <strong>parole</strong> e di tanti pensieri è<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o, il proprietario del bar, uno che ha f<strong>at</strong>to del suo mestiere una missione: ascoltare<br />
gli altri. In una giorn<strong>at</strong>a come tante, si avvicendano al suo bancone tante<br />
facce e storie diverse. La storia di Giulia, estetista, che vuole mollare tutto, <strong>in</strong><br />
cerca di una vita più co<strong>in</strong>volgente, che si contrappone a Maria, giovane avvoc<strong>at</strong>o<br />
emergente che cerca la spiritualità a Delhi. Angelo, al suo primo viaggio, cerca una<br />
ragione per l’abbandono di suo padre, mentre Andreza torna con suo figlio <strong>in</strong><br />
Brasile, la sua terra d’orig<strong>in</strong>e. Un gruppo di giovani cerca la poesia tra le strade<br />
17
di Berl<strong>in</strong>o. Pietro è afflitto dal mal d’amore. Elena, vecchia amica ritrov<strong>at</strong>a del<br />
barista, grazie al suo diario è divent<strong>at</strong>a un’afferm<strong>at</strong>a scrittrice. Per tutti N<strong>in</strong>o ha<br />
un’<strong>at</strong>tenzione, per tutti quelli che hanno una meta da cercare. Ma lui ce l’ha una<br />
meta? Forse qualcuno che gli faccia lasciare la mitica Luisona, la pasta del famoso<br />
racconto di Stefano Benni, che, rimasta <strong>in</strong> vetr<strong>in</strong>a per tempo immemorabile,<br />
un bel giorno viene divor<strong>at</strong>a da un ignaro avventore del bar, provocando<br />
profondo dissenso tra i clienti abituali e fan della decana delle paste.<br />
Si sentono voci e suoni tipici dell’aeroporto. Il barista entra <strong>in</strong> scena, rimanendo davanti<br />
al sipario chiuso, <strong>in</strong> proscenio. Tiene un libro sotto il braccio, vede il pubblico<br />
<strong>in</strong> sala e dice…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Salve, scus<strong>at</strong>e, sono proprio <strong>in</strong> ritardo oggi, arrivo subito da voi, prima<br />
però, perdon<strong>at</strong>emi, ma devo svolgere il mio rito quotidiano. [apre il libro] Vedete<br />
questo piccolo libro? È la bibbia del barista, almeno per me… Leggo una<br />
pag<strong>in</strong>etta a caso, prima di aprire il bar, e da lì capisco come andrà la giorn<strong>at</strong>a…<br />
Qual è il libro? Il bar sport di Stefano Benni. Un capolavoro! Beh vediamo<br />
cosa mi risponde oggi…<br />
Sfoglia il libro, ma non riesce a decidersi. Guarda il pubblico.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: D’accordo, visto che siete qui… a voi la scelta… dite il numero della pag<strong>in</strong>a…<br />
beh, non tutti e tutti un numero diverso… me lo dica lei… sì, proprio<br />
lei, <strong>in</strong> terza fila… lei, con il naso, le orecchie e la bocca… dica un numero…<br />
magari il suo numero fortun<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Aspetta che lo spett<strong>at</strong>ore dica un numero, poi cerca la pag<strong>in</strong>a e com<strong>in</strong>cia a leggere.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Fantastico! La mia storia preferita… la Luisona! «Al bar non si mangia quasi<br />
mai. C’è una bacheca con delle paste, ma è puramente coreografica. Sono paste<br />
ornamentali, spesso veri e propri pezzi d’artigian<strong>at</strong>o. Sono lì da anni, tanto<br />
che i clienti abituali, ormai, le conoscono una per una. Entrando dicono: “La<br />
mer<strong>in</strong>ga è un po’ sciup<strong>at</strong>a, oggi. Sarà il caldo”. Oppure: “È ora di dar la polvere<br />
al krapfen”. Solo, qualche volta, il cliente occasionale osa avvic<strong>in</strong>arsi al sacrario.<br />
Una volta, ad esempio, entrò un rappresentante di Milano. Aprì la bacheca e<br />
si mise <strong>in</strong> bocca una pastona bianca e nera, con sopra una spruzz<strong>at</strong>a di quella<br />
bellissima granella <strong>in</strong> durallum<strong>in</strong>io che sola contraddist<strong>in</strong>gue la pasta veramente<br />
c<strong>at</strong>tiva. Subito nel bar si sparse la voce: “Hanno mangi<strong>at</strong>o la Luisona!”. La<br />
Luisona era la decana delle paste, e si trovava nella bacheca dal 1959. Guardan-<br />
18
do il colore della sua crema i vecchi riuscivano a trarre le previsioni del tempo.<br />
La sua scomparsa fu un colpo durissimo per tutti. Il rappresentante fu <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>o<br />
a uscire nel generale disprezzo. Nessuno lo toccò, perché il suo gesto malvagio<br />
conteneva già <strong>in</strong> sé la più tremenda delle punizioni. Inf<strong>at</strong>ti fu trov<strong>at</strong>o appena<br />
un’ora dopo, nella toilette di un autogrill di Modena, <strong>in</strong> preda ad <strong>at</strong>roci<br />
dolori. La Luisona si era vendic<strong>at</strong>a». Bellissima questa storia, non trov<strong>at</strong>e?<br />
Chissà chi sarà la mia Luisona…<br />
Aumentano i rumori, mentre un altoparlante annuncia l’<strong>at</strong>terraggio di un volo.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Oh mamma! Già è <strong>at</strong>terr<strong>at</strong>o il volo da Berl<strong>in</strong>o… allora è proprio tardi…<br />
sento avanzare le truppe dei passeggeri… che si com<strong>in</strong>ci la giorn<strong>at</strong>a… da N<strong>in</strong>o<br />
allo scalo… bibite succose e paste fresche e prelib<strong>at</strong>e… tranne la Luisona, n<strong>at</strong>uralmente,<br />
sepolta per sempre tra le viscere dell’<strong>in</strong>gordo rappresentante!<br />
Apertura sipario e coreografia con passaggi di persone, <strong>in</strong> arrivo e <strong>in</strong> partenza. Alla f<strong>in</strong>e,<br />
troviamo il barista, al banco, con la divisa, che sistema le cose.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Per chi non lo sapesse, il term<strong>in</strong>e bar deriva dalla parola <strong>in</strong>glese barrier, cioè<br />
‘sbarra’. Inf<strong>at</strong>ti, all’epoca della prima colonizzazione dell’America del Sud, l’angolo<br />
riserv<strong>at</strong>o alla vendita degli alcolici, nelle osterie o nelle bettole, era per l’appunto<br />
diviso dal resto del locale da una sbarra, da cui deriva la parola bar. Altri<br />
<strong>in</strong>vece sostengono che il term<strong>in</strong>e derivi dalla contrazione del term<strong>in</strong>e barred (che<br />
significa ‘sbarr<strong>at</strong>o’), <strong>in</strong> quanto nel diciannovesimo secolo, nel periodo <strong>in</strong> cui <strong>in</strong><br />
Inghilterra era proibita la vendita di bevande alcoliche, sulle porte degli spacci<br />
venivano <strong>in</strong>chiod<strong>at</strong>e delle assi sulle quali questa parola veniva pennell<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> calce.<br />
Da noi qui <strong>in</strong> Italia con il term<strong>in</strong>e bar si <strong>in</strong>tende essenzialmente un locale <strong>in</strong><br />
cui vengono pr<strong>in</strong>cipalmente serviti e consum<strong>at</strong>i sia analcolici sia alcolici, <strong>in</strong> particolare<br />
caffè, cappucc<strong>in</strong>o e cioccol<strong>at</strong>e calde, oltre a cibi come pizzette, tramezz<strong>in</strong>i,<br />
cornetti, paste, tipo quella di Benni, e altri prodotti tra dolci e sal<strong>at</strong>i vari.<br />
Il barista si mette ad asciugare i bicchieri. Entra Giulia.<br />
Giulia: Buongiorno.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Buongiorno a lei!<br />
Giulia si dirige subito al tavol<strong>in</strong>o e lascia il suo trolley con sopra un enorme beauty.<br />
È ben vestita, molto giovanile e d<strong>in</strong>amica. Fa tutto <strong>in</strong> maniera rapida e ansiosa ma<br />
trasmette allegria. Si rivolge al barista con un sorriso a 360 gradi.<br />
19
Giulia: Un cappucc<strong>in</strong>o, un cornetto e un bicchiere d’acqua, altrimenti stam<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a<br />
non mi sveglio. Grazie.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Glielo porto subito al tavolo!<br />
Giulia apre il beauty-case, si sistema un po’ il trucco, leggero ma efficace. Nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo<br />
si avvic<strong>in</strong>a il barista che le mette la colazione sul tavol<strong>in</strong>o. Giulia sempre con il sorriso<br />
e molto ansiosa di fare ciò che ha <strong>in</strong> mente, beve subito un po’ d’acqua.<br />
Giulia: Sa a che ora apre l’agenzia di viaggi?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Di solito alle 9.<br />
Giulia: Ok, aspetterò qui se non le dispiace!<br />
Tira fuori un bloc-notes, una penna, due buste portalettere e due francobolli, e <strong>in</strong>izia<br />
a scrivere. Entra, correndo, Maria, avvoc<strong>at</strong>o emergente con una vistosa borsa di Louis<br />
Vuitton.<br />
Maria: Mio Dio stavo per fare tardi anche qui… appena <strong>in</strong> tempo prima che<br />
chiudesse il check-<strong>in</strong>… [al barista] Un g<strong>in</strong>seng grazie!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Subito!<br />
Maria [al barista con cui da qui <strong>in</strong> poi si rapporterà]: Secondo lei sono vestita bene<br />
per l’India?<br />
Il barista la guarda stupito.<br />
Maria: No scusi, è che sono un po’ agit<strong>at</strong>a… se lei sapesse…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [tra sé]: Com<strong>in</strong>ciamo la giorn<strong>at</strong>a!<br />
Maria: Come dice?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: No, dicevo… è una brutta giorn<strong>at</strong>a?<br />
Maria: No, non es<strong>at</strong>tamente… direi una giorn<strong>at</strong>a storica, memorabile, <strong>in</strong>sospettabile,<br />
<strong>in</strong>aspett<strong>at</strong>a, curiosa, aggressiva, imprevista, sorprendente…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Prego… [porgendole la tazza].<br />
Maria: Eh?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Il suo g<strong>in</strong>seng…<br />
Maria: Ah sì, grazie! Il g<strong>in</strong>seng mi piace… mi tira su… che dice, ne troverò <strong>in</strong> India?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Direi di sì, ma se fossi <strong>in</strong> lei, non ne abuserei!<br />
Maria: Mi trova agit<strong>at</strong>a? [guardando il barista con stupore].<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [quasi difendendosi]: L’ha detto lei che è agit<strong>at</strong>a… una giorn<strong>at</strong>a sorprendente…<br />
aggressiva…<br />
20
Maria [ignorandolo]: Vede, tutto è com<strong>in</strong>ci<strong>at</strong>o ieri m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a… mi sono detta:<br />
«Entro o non entro? Adesso che scusa gli racconto? Che per l’ennesima volta<br />
ho f<strong>at</strong>to tardi e non ho neanche complet<strong>at</strong>o la memoria… e i fascicoli dei ricorsi…<br />
e la documentazione del signor Prest<strong>in</strong>ari… Prast<strong>in</strong>ari…», mai che<br />
mi ricordassi un nome… comunque, mi pare Prest<strong>in</strong>ari… al diavolo lui e come<br />
si chiama. Insomma, proprio davanti alla porta del capo…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [<strong>in</strong>curiosito]: Proprio davanti alla porta del capo…<br />
Maria [fissandolo]: …«al diavolo tutti quanti!», mi sono detta. Ho gir<strong>at</strong>o i tacchi<br />
e sono torn<strong>at</strong>a a casa, nella mia tana, nell’unico posto dove posso girare scalza,<br />
senza vestiti, coi capelli <strong>in</strong> disord<strong>in</strong>e, niente trucco perfetto, niente sorrisi obblig<strong>at</strong>i,<br />
’fanculo!!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: ’fanculo!<br />
Maria [picc<strong>at</strong>a]: Scusi?! ’fanculo a chi?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: ’fanculo… lo ha detto lei… a casa… niente sorrisi obblig<strong>at</strong>i… ’fanculo!<br />
Maria [di nuovo ignorandolo]: Sì certo, la mia casuccia, il mio angolo di libertà…<br />
pensavo che sarebbe bast<strong>at</strong>o e… <strong>in</strong>vece… guardi, mi creda, è <strong>in</strong>credibile…<br />
nemmeno il mio piccolo nascondiglio era più sicuro… mi sono guard<strong>at</strong>a allo<br />
specchio del bagno [tirando fuori uno specchietto dalla borsa e legandosi i capelli<br />
con una coda]: «Maria… da cosa stai scappando? Da questa vita ord<strong>in</strong>aria?<br />
Dai capi firm<strong>at</strong>i? [chiudendo lo specchietto e aggirandosi nervosa <strong>in</strong>torno agli<br />
sgabelli davanti al bancone, mentre il barista le sposta cont<strong>in</strong>uamente la tazza da<br />
uno sgabello all’altro, seguendola con lo sguardo]. Da cosa scappi Maria? Dal tuo<br />
capo, dalla tua dedizione totale al lavoro… il protocollo da seguire, sempre uguale,<br />
stessi orari, stesse formalità, stessi aperitivi, stesse uscite con gli amici,<br />
pub, c<strong>in</strong>ema, discoteche… e la vita che ti passa davanti… la tua famiglia ambiziosa,<br />
gli anni di studio per diventare avvoc<strong>at</strong>o, l’<strong>in</strong>sofferenza, i mille lavoretti<br />
per non dipendere dai tuoi… i sensi di colpa… le storie d’amore… le delusioni…<br />
e di nuovo rifugiarsi nel lavoro… il lavoro che sognavi da bamb<strong>in</strong>a…<br />
e che adesso non ti basta più! Allora? Non mi rispondi? Da cosa scappi?<br />
Da te stessa? Rispondi… avanti rispondi… rispondi».<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Signora, la prego, si calmi!<br />
Maria [sedendosi comodamente sul primo sgabello e aprendo di nuovo la borsa]: Ma<br />
sono calmissima… ho capito tutto, capisce? Ho la risposta alle mie domande…<br />
ora lo so… «non scappo da me stessa, ma verso me stessa»… es<strong>at</strong>tamente<br />
questa semplice frase mi son detta ieri. Saranno st<strong>at</strong>e le tre del pomeriggio…<br />
me lo ricordo perché, da quel momento, mi sono tolta l’orologio… il<br />
pregi<strong>at</strong>issimo Rolex… è f<strong>in</strong>ito nel contenitore «<strong>in</strong>differenzi<strong>at</strong>a»… [il barista<br />
ha un fremito] mi sono cambi<strong>at</strong>a… ho prelev<strong>at</strong>o tutti i miei risparmi… sono<br />
corsa <strong>in</strong> agenzia e ho f<strong>at</strong>to un biglietto per Delhi, solo and<strong>at</strong>a. Poi ho preso il<br />
21
cellulare e ho cancell<strong>at</strong>o tutti i numeri… tranne uno… quello del taxi… ho<br />
prenot<strong>at</strong>o la corsa per le sette di stam<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a ed eccomi qui.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Ma è sicura di quello che fa? E poi il Rolex nell’<strong>in</strong>differenzi<strong>at</strong>a! A me sembra<br />
che lei abbia una vita <strong>in</strong>vidiabile…<br />
Maria: Ma che scherza? Ci provi lei a vivere così… comunque, non è la vita che<br />
mi rappresenta! Io ho bisogno di fare una scelta. Perché ho scelto Delhi? Perché<br />
è totalmente diversa: l<strong>in</strong>gua, cultura, cibo… Lì potrò f<strong>in</strong>almente <strong>in</strong>iziare<br />
una nuova vita. Un viaggio <strong>in</strong>trospettivo?! [puntandolo con lo sguardo] Da oggi<br />
<strong>in</strong> poi voglio guardare le persone <strong>in</strong> faccia… ma <strong>in</strong> modo diverso… <strong>in</strong> modo<br />
vero… senza trucco, con i capelli <strong>in</strong> disord<strong>in</strong>e, senza sorrisi obblig<strong>at</strong>i, senza<br />
capi firm<strong>at</strong>i…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [<strong>in</strong>dicando la Louis Vuitton]: …magari con qualche eccezione.<br />
Maria: Allude a questa?!?! [sorride] La mia Louis Vuitton!! Questa mi serve… mi<br />
serve a ricordare quello che ero… e a non dimenticare più quello che voglio essere…<br />
[f<strong>in</strong>isce il suo g<strong>in</strong>seng]. Quanto mi costerà?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Due euro…<br />
Maria: Ecco… [gli dà una banconota e si allontana].<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: E il resto?<br />
Maria: Non ha più importanza…<br />
Maria esce spavalda. Durante tutto il colloquio tra l’avvoc<strong>at</strong>o e il barista, Giulia cont<strong>in</strong>ua<br />
a scrivere e strappare fogli, ma ascolta con <strong>at</strong>tenzione quello che dice quella donna<br />
che sente molto vic<strong>in</strong>a per la decisione di partire.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Il Rolex nella cesta… io, prima di partire per Delhi, le farei passare una<br />
giorn<strong>at</strong>a qui dentro… così, per esercitarsi a guardare le persone negli occhi!<br />
Giulia: Io una donna così, la trovo coraggiosa! Lei dice che l’India potrebbe essere<br />
un buon posto per fare un po’ di ord<strong>in</strong>e nella propria vita? L’India, l’India,<br />
l’India. Sì certo, potrebbe servirmi con tutta la sua storia, il suo spiritualismo.<br />
Ma poi, a me, mica serve lo spiritualismo… io mi voglio divertire, stare <strong>in</strong><br />
compagnia… che me ne faccio di uno spazio per <strong>in</strong>teriorizzarmi!? Sono già<br />
st<strong>at</strong>a abbastanza sola nella mia vita. Eppure con il mio lavoro ne <strong>in</strong>contro di<br />
gente… sa… faccio l’estetista… alla gente, io la faccia la guardo con la lente…<br />
quando va bene, perché, quando va male, guardo unghie, piedi… cosce e<br />
chiap… va be’, lasciamo stare! Le sembrerà strano, ma anche io sto cercando<br />
una nuova meta!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Tutti qui cercano una meta.<br />
Giulia: E tu? Qual è la tua?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Siamo pass<strong>at</strong>i al tu?<br />
22
Giulia: Hai più o meno la mia età! Allora, ce l’hai una meta?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Guarda che io normalmente ascolto le storie, non le racconto! Ogni giorno<br />
qui vedo tanta gente che passa, che parte, che torna, che riparte, mentre io<br />
sto sempre qui, fermo, immobile, <strong>in</strong> questo luogo senza tempo, a ripetere le<br />
stesse azioni ogni giorno. Ma questa vita a me piace! [prende una scopa e com<strong>in</strong>cia<br />
a spazzare] Il bar è un luogo fantastico, punto di <strong>in</strong>contro di misteriosi avventori,<br />
ognuno dei quali ha qualcosa da lasciarti… oltre alle briciole delle<br />
brioche sul pavimento…<br />
Giulia: Scusa… ma il cornetto è così… quando è fresco… perché oggi trovare<br />
un cornetto fresco, mica è facile…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Tutto sta nel presentarlo… come per la Luisona…<br />
Giulia: La Luisona?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: È una vecchia storia… <strong>in</strong> un vecchio bar…<br />
Entra un ragazzo molto altern<strong>at</strong>ivo, che si muove ballando sulla musica che sente <strong>at</strong>traverso<br />
le cuffiette dell’iPod. Si avvic<strong>in</strong>a al banco.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Prego, desidera?<br />
Il ragazzo cont<strong>in</strong>ua a muoversi, senza rispondere. Il barista gli fa segno di togliersi le<br />
cuffiette. Il ragazzo ne toglie una.<br />
Rapper: Sì? Che c’è?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [alzando la voce]: Prendi qualcosa?<br />
Rapper: Coca e tramezz<strong>in</strong>o… per c<strong>in</strong>que.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: C<strong>in</strong>que?<br />
Rapper: Per me e il mio gruppo… a Berl<strong>in</strong>o stiamo andando, una storia raccontando…<br />
al raduno dei poeti, della strada siam profeti… una storia narreremo;<br />
è di un uomo il caso estremo, che schiacci<strong>at</strong>o e frantum<strong>at</strong>o dagli stress quotidiani,<br />
cerca ansioso su nel cielo il suo albero a sei piani…<br />
Mentre Giulia e il barista lo guardano <strong>in</strong>terdetti, entrano i componenti del gruppo, che<br />
com<strong>in</strong>ciano a rappare con lui. Durante il pezzo, si avvic<strong>in</strong>ano altri avventori, tra cui<br />
Andreza, una giovane ragazza brasiliana, che piano piano si <strong>in</strong>serisce e balla con loro.<br />
Rapper: Il signor Rocco Piano,<br />
Avvoc<strong>at</strong>o di Pantano,<br />
Dal cognome sembra sano<br />
Ma a guardarlo è molto strano.<br />
23
24<br />
Ma un bel giorno Rocco è st<strong>at</strong>o<br />
Dentro al traffico <strong>in</strong>castr<strong>at</strong>o<br />
Nella macch<strong>in</strong>a blocc<strong>at</strong>o<br />
E dal fumo <strong>in</strong>tossic<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Della radio alza il volume<br />
Cerca <strong>in</strong>vano un po’ di lume<br />
Guarda il cielo: «Mamma mia<br />
Questa è proprio una poesia»<br />
Bada bene una poesia<br />
Non ho scritto fantasia<br />
Fantasia cercare vuole<br />
Manca il verde e questo duole<br />
Vede il verde solo ahimè<br />
Nel semaforo e nel tè<br />
Non nel rap che sto scrivendo<br />
Tra le strade e nel cemento<br />
Al tramonto ancora spera<br />
E ripensa ad una sera<br />
È il ricordo di suo zio<br />
Che somiglia tanto al mio<br />
Son pass<strong>at</strong>i tanti anni<br />
Capodanno e compleanni<br />
Quando a Napoli lui stava<br />
La sua aria respirava<br />
Respirava aria fresca<br />
Buona solo come esca<br />
Per pescare una chimera<br />
Aspettando primavera<br />
Caro zio aspetta e spera<br />
Si sta già facendo sera<br />
Tra palazzi e strade a caccia<br />
Ma del verde non c’è traccia
Ed ora tocca a me<br />
Aspettare come te<br />
Di arrivare al sesto piano<br />
Dove il verde sembra strano<br />
Sembra strano sì perché<br />
Il colore lì non c’è<br />
Ed è il verde che cerchiamo<br />
Io tu e Rocco Piano.<br />
Tutti i presenti applaudono. I rapper passano con il cappello, vanno dal barista e versano<br />
il contenuto sul bancone.<br />
Rapper: Bastano per lo spunt<strong>in</strong>o?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Bastano, bastano! Complimenti e <strong>in</strong> bocca al lupo per il raduno. F<strong>at</strong>emi<br />
sapere come è and<strong>at</strong>a… al ritorno.<br />
Rapper: Al ritorno non pensare, a noi basta sol poetare!<br />
I rapper e gli avventori si allontanano. Rimane Andreza, la ragazza brasiliana.<br />
Giulia [ad Andreza]: Tu non vai? Vuoi perdere l’aereo?<br />
Andreza: Ma io non sono con loro e non vado a Berl<strong>in</strong>o. Vado <strong>in</strong> Brasile. Là sono<br />
n<strong>at</strong>a. Ci torno dopo più di vent’anni!<br />
Giulia: Che emozione!<br />
La luce si chiude <strong>in</strong>torno ad Andreza, <strong>in</strong> un’<strong>at</strong>mosfera di ricordo. Musica di sottofondo.<br />
Andreza: Ancora mi ricordo il giorno della mia partenza. Come fosse ora. Aeroporto<br />
di Rio de Janeiro… è pieno di gente che va di fretta, camm<strong>in</strong>a veloce…<br />
chi va avanti, chi va nella direzione opposta… ma dove vanno tutte queste persone…<br />
ma sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto dove sto andando io? E poi cos’è, dove si trova questo<br />
coso che dicono che vola? …non ci capisco niente… ora dobbiamo fare un’altra<br />
fila… dobbiamo lasciare i bagagli… ma, dico io: se noi ce ne andiamo da<br />
qui, perché i nostri bagagli non possono venire con noi? Questi due cont<strong>in</strong>uano<br />
a parlarmi nella loro stupida l<strong>in</strong>gua… non capiscono proprio che non capisco<br />
nulla di quello che dicono? Accanto a me c’è un altro bamb<strong>in</strong>o, ha più o<br />
meno la mia età, non dice una parola… mi hanno detto che è mio fr<strong>at</strong>ello. Lo<br />
hanno detto proprio loro, le suore dell’orfanotrofio. È brasiliano pure lui, ma a<br />
me non sembra che mi somigli… i due signori che ci hanno port<strong>at</strong>o via, «i tuoi<br />
25
nuovi genitori», hanno detto le suore… questi due «genitori» mi guardano e ridono…<br />
forse sono felici. O forse… trovano divertente la mia espressione…<br />
Devo proprio avere una faccia persa… mi sento persa… Ma sono ancora <strong>in</strong><br />
Brasile? Perché il viaggio <strong>in</strong> auto dal mio orfanotrofio f<strong>in</strong> qui è st<strong>at</strong>o lunghissimo…<br />
forse sono già <strong>in</strong> Italia dove hanno detto che andremo… però no… hanno<br />
detto che dobbiamo prendere una cosa che vola <strong>in</strong> cielo… <strong>in</strong> cielo a parte gli<br />
uccelli… non ho mai visto volare niente, tanto meno oggetti. Forse mi stanno<br />
facendo uno scherzo… Arriviamo davanti a una specie di lungo tappeto che si<br />
muove… ma che stregoneria è questa? Ma dove sono f<strong>in</strong>ita? Non ci voglio salire<br />
lì sopra… magari f<strong>in</strong>isco <strong>in</strong> quel buco! Però Andreza, calma… gli altri che ci<br />
salgono, non hanno paura… Ci vanno tutti tranquilli… E si lasciano andare…<br />
Luce su una fila di bidoni che i musicisti com<strong>in</strong>ciano a suonare sotto il racconto <strong>in</strong>calzante<br />
di Andreza.<br />
Andreza: Mi trasc<strong>in</strong>ano di nuovo… ora di fronte a me c’è un enorme spiazzo…<br />
E… non posso credere ai miei occhi… quelli laggiù lontano che cosa sono? E<br />
che cos’è questo rumore che sento sopra di me… è troppo forte… ma che succede…<br />
alzo la testa e vedo che uno di quei cosi che volano è proprio lo stesso<br />
macch<strong>in</strong>ario che mi sta di fronte. Ma come fa una cosa così enorme e pesante a<br />
volare <strong>in</strong> aria come un uccello? E se mi mangia? …ma questo bamb<strong>in</strong>o non dice<br />
proprio niente… basta che mangia… racc<strong>at</strong>ta tutto… anche da terra… non<br />
può essere mio fr<strong>at</strong>ello… Prendiamo un’altra macch<strong>in</strong>a… questa però è grossa…<br />
e ci entrano tante persone… ma io un posto del genere, com’è che non l’avevo<br />
mai visto? Pieno di macch<strong>in</strong>ari strani… Di persone che camm<strong>in</strong>ano veloci<br />
come m<strong>at</strong>te… tutte queste file per dare a dei signori un pezzo di carta… tutti<br />
questi negozi… il tappeto che camm<strong>in</strong>a… e questi enormi uccelli metallici<br />
con le ali più grandi di un’aquila che volano nel cielo… Scommetto che le mie<br />
compagne dell’orfanotrofio non le hanno mai viste certe cose! Se glielo raccontassi,<br />
non ci crederebbero mai… Ma che fa questa signora? Adesso mi ha preso<br />
la mano… ogni tanto si gira e mi urla qualcosa nella sua l<strong>in</strong>gua… Ho il cuore<br />
che mi sale <strong>in</strong> gola… stiamo sotto l’aereo… la gente sale da piccole scale che<br />
camm<strong>in</strong>ano… passa dentro un enorme tubo… ed entra dentro quel grosso coso…<br />
ora tocca a me, ma io ho paura… e se poi quando vola un altro uccello lo<br />
colpisce e cade? Non so perché mi giro <strong>in</strong>dietro di sc<strong>at</strong>to… vorrei tornare <strong>in</strong>dietro,<br />
scappare lontano… però se vado <strong>in</strong>dietro torno <strong>in</strong> orfanotrofio, e io non<br />
voglio tornare <strong>in</strong> quel posto. Va be’, ormai ci siamo… saliamo… ma è stretto<br />
qua dentro… da fuori sembrava più grande… e poi perché tutte queste sedie?<br />
Sono strane queste sedie, non sono di legno… sono grandi, alte… e tutte del-<br />
26
lo stesso colore… Tutte uguali… Però sono comode… un po’ pelose, ma comode…<br />
le f<strong>in</strong>estre sono piccole, non ci fanno vedere quasi niente… ecco di<br />
nuovo la voce <strong>in</strong>visibile… ma quanto parlano… Aspettiamo tanto… io mi addormento…<br />
quando mi sveglio sono leg<strong>at</strong>a alla pancia da una strana cosa… La<br />
signora accanto a me dorme e quel bamb<strong>in</strong>o ha smesso di mangiare e mi guarda<br />
fisso… mi metto delle cose all’orecchio, come ha f<strong>at</strong>to il tizio vic<strong>in</strong>o a me… e<br />
arriva della musica… una bella musica… è come una magia… mi riaddormento…<br />
mentre mi immag<strong>in</strong>o quali altre stregonerie mi <strong>at</strong>tendono…<br />
Cambio luce. Sfuma la musica. Andreza si siede accanto a Giulia e ord<strong>in</strong>a un caffè.<br />
Giulia: Scusa se mi <strong>in</strong>trometto… ma la tua storia è proprio co<strong>in</strong>volgente… vivevi<br />
<strong>in</strong> un orfanotrofio? In una foresta?<br />
Andreza: Già e non era un gran che! Avevo sette anni. Quel viaggio diede avvio a<br />
un altro viaggio che, tra f<strong>at</strong>iche e sofferenze, mi ha condotto f<strong>in</strong>o alla donna<br />
che sono oggi. Non è st<strong>at</strong>o facile… quei genitori non sono st<strong>at</strong>i un gran che…<br />
ma oggi va meglio, oggi c’è lui!<br />
Giulia: Il tuo fidanz<strong>at</strong>o?<br />
Andreza: Mio figlio Jamail. Da quel mese di agosto 1992, <strong>in</strong> cui misi piede <strong>in</strong><br />
quell’aereo, <strong>in</strong> quell’enorme spaventoso macch<strong>in</strong>ario, il mio dest<strong>in</strong>o era segn<strong>at</strong>o…<br />
ora so che ad <strong>at</strong>tendere il mio arrivo, al di là dell’oceano, c’era un tesoro<br />
tutto mio… La mia meta è proprio qua, ora, <strong>in</strong> questo giorno, <strong>in</strong> questo<br />
momento. Il domani è oggi. È Andreza e Jamail. Ed ora conosceremo <strong>in</strong>sieme<br />
la mia terra… [si alza e <strong>in</strong>dica qualcosa] Eccolo lì, lo vedi? Mi sta salutando!<br />
Devo andare! Lo spaventoso uccello metallico ci aspetta! Quanto pago?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Offre la ditta!!! Buon viaggio!<br />
Andreza: Grazie!<br />
Giulia: E salutaci Jamail!<br />
Andreza esce.<br />
Giulia: Certo che hai proprio ragione! In questo bar, si vive di tutto!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [sorridendo]: Storie… te l’ho detto, e le storie non sono che le persone e le<br />
persone sono sempre uniche… io resto <strong>in</strong>cant<strong>at</strong>o a vedere e a sentire… cerco<br />
di capire chi è turista e chi viaggi<strong>at</strong>ore! Ho un vero proprio c<strong>at</strong>alogo di tipi…<br />
<strong>def</strong><strong>in</strong>izioni di tanti passeggeri…<br />
Giulia: E io? Che tipo di passeggero sono?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: A una prima occhi<strong>at</strong>a, si direbbe che non sei ancora un passeggero. Hai<br />
detto che vai verso una meta… ma la tua meta è più nella tua testa, che nel cie-<br />
27
lo. Però nascondi una buona dose di coraggio, che forse ti farebbe salire sul<br />
primo aereo <strong>in</strong> decollo.<br />
Giulia: Probabilmente hai ragione, farei bene a cercare la mia meta <strong>in</strong> me stessa…<br />
anche questo richiede coraggio… ma, vedi, mi sento improvvisamente vecchia<br />
e non voglio <strong>in</strong>vecchiare senza aver vissuto. La donna di prima ha lasci<strong>at</strong>o una<br />
situazione comoda per andare a cercare se stessa a Delhi, Andreza ha f<strong>at</strong>to del<br />
suo bamb<strong>in</strong>o la sua meta, quei ragazzi cercano la poesia delle cose, e io?<br />
Mentre i due chiacchierano, entra Angelo e va a sedersi al tavol<strong>in</strong>o, ma poi si rialza<br />
subito. Ripete il gesto più di una volta.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: «Non si parte da nessuna parte senza aver prima sogn<strong>at</strong>o un posto e, viceversa,<br />
senza viaggiare, prima o poi f<strong>in</strong>iscono tutti i sogni o si resta blocc<strong>at</strong>i sempre<br />
nello stesso sogno», Wim Wenders… Comunque, mi sembri un tant<strong>in</strong>o<br />
complic<strong>at</strong>a. Io sono più bravo nel riconoscere <strong>at</strong>teggiamenti… usuali, semplici,<br />
diciamo. Guarda questo ragazzo che sta entrando, è palese… evidente.<br />
Giulia: Cosa?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Dài, guardalo bene. Si vede.<br />
Giulia: Non capisco.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: È la sua prima volta! E ha una fottuta paura!<br />
I due sorridono e Angelo, accorgendosi dell’<strong>at</strong>tenzione rivoltagli, timidamente si dirige<br />
verso il barista.<br />
Angelo: Ciao, io sono Angelo… Va be’, non che debba <strong>in</strong>teressarti, è solo che io<br />
mi presento sempre…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Io mi chiamo N<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Angelo: Posso avere un bicchiere d’acqua… N<strong>in</strong>o? [avvic<strong>in</strong>andosi al tavolo di<br />
Giulia] …bella questa borsa, ma è una Trussardi? Lo sai che da piccolo ho sfil<strong>at</strong>o<br />
con degli abiti Trussardi? [imbarazz<strong>at</strong>o] Comunque ciao, non mi sono<br />
neanche present<strong>at</strong>o. Angelo, piacere.<br />
Fa per darle la mano, lei <strong>in</strong>credula e divertita porge la mano e con una grande stretta<br />
si presenta.<br />
Giulia: Sono Giulia, piacere mio! …sei <strong>in</strong> partenza? E dove…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Ecco l’acqua!<br />
Angelo si dirige verso il bancone, cercando nervosamente qualcosa <strong>in</strong> tasca.<br />
28
Angelo [al barista]: Grazie! [tirando fuori un tubetto dalla tasca]… senta scusi, o<br />
posso darle del tu? Posso? [senza aspettare la risposta del barista] …quante ne<br />
prendo secondo te? [riferendosi alle pillole che fa uscire dal tubetto].<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Dipende.<br />
Angelo [con voce tremolante]: Da cosaaa?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Vuoi soltanto rilassarti o vuoi proprio dormire?<br />
Angelo: Non voglio capire che sto volando.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: È la prima volta vero? [sorridendo a Giulia che risponde al sorriso complice].<br />
Una dovrebbe bastare, quelle sono forti! Funzionano. Fid<strong>at</strong>i. Io di queste cose…<br />
uuuuh. Tutti i giorni.…<br />
Angelo: Ok, grazie.<br />
Mentre Angelo si avvia al tavolo, con il bicchiere da una parte e le pasticche dall’altra,<br />
Giulia si alza e va verso il bancone, visibilmente irrit<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Giulia [al barista]: Ma che fai? Sei m<strong>at</strong>to? È così giovane! Che gli fai prendere?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Ebbene sì, sono un <strong>in</strong>cant<strong>at</strong>ore di serpenti… via, scherzo! Quelle pasticche<br />
sono solo erbe… valeriana… ma si sa, nella vita basta crederci! O no?<br />
Giulia: Cosa vorresti dire?<br />
Giulia torna al tavolo e cerca di dare un ord<strong>in</strong>e ai fogli sparsi. Il barista ride. Angelo,<br />
quasi come per un gesto estremo, <strong>in</strong>gerisce la compressa, e subito un senso di rilass<strong>at</strong>ezza<br />
pervade il suo corpo. Poi sottovoce tra sé:<br />
Angelo: Se fosse qui, ora, lo fisserei negli occhi e gli vomiterei tutto il male che gli<br />
voglio. Potrei addirittura picchiarlo, come faceva con mamma. Ma guarda un<br />
po’ se per colpa di quello stronzo di mio padre devo rov<strong>in</strong>armi il giorno più<br />
importante della mia vita! C’ho messo tutto ’sto tempo per decidermi a partire,<br />
e ora che sono qui, che faccio??? Penso a mio padre! Mio padre?! Il f<strong>at</strong>to è<br />
che non ho ancora capito perché mi ha abbandon<strong>at</strong>o, a qu<strong>at</strong>tro anni, ma come<br />
si fa? [rivolgendosi a Giulia e al barista] Secondo voi, come si fa ad abbandonare<br />
un bamb<strong>in</strong>o di qu<strong>at</strong>tro anni? Lui, mio padre, si era semplicemente<br />
stanc<strong>at</strong>o. Si era stanc<strong>at</strong>o di avere una famiglia. Certo! Si fa così! Ti stanchi,<br />
prendi la famiglia e la metti fuori di casa, fuori dalla vita. Che poi, che me ne<br />
frega, neanche lo penso a quello!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [a Giulia] Forse dovevo dargli qualcosa di più forte…<br />
Giulia, sdegnosa nei confronti del barista, si alza e va a sedersi al tavolo di Angelo.<br />
29
Giulia: Mi dispiace, Angelo, per quello che ti è successo…<br />
Angelo [cont<strong>in</strong>uando il suo discorso]: Per fortuna mamma ha trov<strong>at</strong>o Carlo! Mi<br />
sta proprio simp<strong>at</strong>ico. Grande Carlo! Grande! Se non fosse st<strong>at</strong>o per lui, non<br />
sarei qui… e non riesco a calmarmi! Ho paura [si alza e camm<strong>in</strong>a nel locale].<br />
Giulia: È normale… è la prima volta!<br />
Angelo [come riprendendosi]: Eh? Eeh sì. Sì, è la prima volta. Non ho mai… [cont<strong>in</strong>uando<br />
a camm<strong>in</strong>are] non ho mai avuto il coraggio prima. Ora sono pronto<br />
però. È solo che ho paura del mal d’aereo. Mia madre ci soffre. Magari è ereditario!<br />
[sorridendo] Mia madre, quante cose belle che ha f<strong>at</strong>to per noi, me<br />
e mio fr<strong>at</strong>ello Alessandro! Da sola ci ha cresciuti. Potrei scrivere un libro su<br />
mia madre. [si avvic<strong>in</strong>a al tavolo di Giulia e guarda la borsa] Se ci penso… non<br />
era Trussardi. No, sì, sì! Era Trussardi. Che bello io e mio fr<strong>at</strong>ello su quella<br />
passerella, quanta gente! Almeno duemila persone che ci ammiravano. La<br />
gente b<strong>at</strong>teva le mani, i miei parenti ci facevano un sacco di foto e complimenti,<br />
è st<strong>at</strong>a una giorn<strong>at</strong>a bellissima.<br />
Musica. Angelo si gira di spalle al pubblico e parte la proiezione di vecchie foto o video<br />
dei due fr<strong>at</strong>elli, mentre si anima la scena con una coreografia. Angelo si volta verso<br />
Giulia, mentre il video e la musica si fermano.<br />
Angelo: Se non era per Carlo neanche partivo oggi. Lui è il mio vero padre. Non<br />
vedo l’ora di arrivare lì.<br />
Giulia [tornando al suo tavolo] E dove vai di bello?<br />
Angelo: Di bello? Allora, sono partito da Senigallia, no, da Oriolo, no, da Cesano<br />
che poi ci sono pure n<strong>at</strong>o a Cesano. [ridendo] No scusa, a Senigallia. Senigallia,<br />
e f<strong>in</strong>almente ho deciso di andare, <strong>in</strong> realtà non l’ho deciso ora, è una vita<br />
che ci penso, ora basta ci vado. Carlo mi ha regal<strong>at</strong>o il biglietto.<br />
Giulia [scocci<strong>at</strong>a]: Sì, ma dov’è che vai?<br />
Angelo: Mio padre, non Carlo, l’altro… quello che mi ha gener<strong>at</strong>o… è un chirurgo<br />
molto famoso… certe volte immag<strong>in</strong>o di avere un <strong>in</strong>cidente, di arrivare<br />
di corsa al Pronto Soccorso, essere port<strong>at</strong>o <strong>in</strong> sala oper<strong>at</strong>oria, f<strong>in</strong>ire sotto i ferri…<br />
sotto le mani di mio padre, che però non sa chi sono io, non sa come è<br />
cambi<strong>at</strong>a la mia faccia… sono un adulto, l’adulto che ha preso il posto di quel<br />
bamb<strong>in</strong>o di qu<strong>at</strong>tro anni, fermo, sulla porta, a salutarlo… Poi, come <strong>in</strong> un<br />
film, riconosce la grossa voglia che ho sulla pancia, e allora piange e fa di tutto<br />
per salvarmi… [a Giulia] sono un po’ folle, non credi? Ma ora non devo<br />
pensare a lui, ma a un altro viaggio, quello vero… il primo viaggio e il biglietto<br />
me lo ha pag<strong>at</strong>o Carlo… vado <strong>in</strong> Gu<strong>at</strong>emala…<br />
Giulia: Gu<strong>at</strong>emala? Però! Deve essere bello il Gu<strong>at</strong>emala!<br />
30
Angelo: Sì. Bellissimo! E tu dove vai? Stai partendo? O stai arrivando?<br />
Giulia: Sto… non so ancora dove, ma sto partendo…<br />
Angelo [<strong>in</strong>terrompendola]: Mi sento proprio pronto. È fantastico! Meno male<br />
che mi sono f<strong>at</strong>to conv<strong>in</strong>cere. Dagli amici e da Carlo, sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto! Te l’ho detto?<br />
Carlo è il compagno di mia madre, lui è un tipo tranquillo. Dovresti conoscerlo…<br />
scusa… parlo troppo… è che sono superagit<strong>at</strong>o… [rivolgendosi al<br />
barista e <strong>in</strong>dicando le pasticche] Forse è meglio prenderne un’altra, che ne pensi?<br />
Io non sento nulla. Ma funzionano ’ste cose?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Vai tranquillo. È un <strong>at</strong>timo. E poi pensa che stai andando <strong>in</strong> Gu<strong>at</strong>emala!<br />
Verrei anche io. Se potessi lasciare questo posto!<br />
Arriva la chiam<strong>at</strong>a del volo per Gu<strong>at</strong>emala, parte la musica, arrivano gli amici con<br />
za<strong>in</strong>i e valige. Parte la coreografia e sulla musica si sente Angelo urlare.<br />
Angelo: Mamma mamma che ansia! [a Giulia] Vai Giuliaaa! Prendi il primo aeroplano<br />
che ti capitaaaaaaaa [esce di scena].<br />
Giulia: Certo che questo non si può certo <strong>def</strong><strong>in</strong>ire un posto tranquillo! È da<br />
quando sono arriv<strong>at</strong>a che cerco di scrivere una lettera, ma non ci riesco. Ma tu<br />
come fai? Ogni giorno, non fai che vivere le storie degli altri!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Un po’ come succede agli <strong>at</strong>tori a te<strong>at</strong>ro… mi sarebbe piaciuto fare l’<strong>at</strong>tore…<br />
magari un giorno lo farò e racconterò le storie che ho sentito e vissuto qui<br />
dentro.<br />
Entra Pietro, camm<strong>in</strong>ando lentamente e trasc<strong>in</strong>andosi dietro una borsa (tipo quelle<br />
da palestra) con un <strong>at</strong>teggiamento rassegn<strong>at</strong>o. Guarda l’ora sul suo orologio, poi su<br />
quello a parete.<br />
Pietro [a Giulia]: Scusi, sa l’ora?<br />
Giulia: Non so… più o meno le otto…<br />
Pietro: Più o meno…<br />
Pietro, <strong>in</strong>soddisf<strong>at</strong>to, va a sedersi a un tavolo e chiede un tè.<br />
Giulia [al barista]: Ho bisogno di concentrazione! Devo, e dico devo, scrivere<br />
questa lettera!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Che ne pensi di un po’ di musica?<br />
Giulia: Grazie mille [sorridendo], questo si che mi aiuterà! [prende la lettera e <strong>in</strong>izia<br />
a leggerla sotto voce, come se la stesse leggendo a se stessa] «Cari mamma e<br />
papà, ho deciso di partire per un viaggio, non so quanto lungo. Mi sono accor-<br />
31
ta di aver lavor<strong>at</strong>o per costruirmi un futuro e ora che ci sono riuscita non so cosa<br />
farmene. Ho bisogno di pensare a me, oltre al lavoro. E vi r<strong>in</strong>grazio per gli<br />
sforzi che avete f<strong>at</strong>to per mandarmi a scuola, aprire lo studio era il mio sogno<br />
e voi mi avete aiut<strong>at</strong>o. Ma adesso ho capito che quello non è tutto nella vita.<br />
Non può essere tutto. Penso a voi due, alla nostra famiglia, a quanto, nonostante<br />
i sacrifici, eravamo felici e a quanto voi siete felici, ora. Lo desidero anch’io,<br />
essere felice con un compagno con cui condividere la mia vita. Voglio<br />
essere orgogliosa dei miei figli, voglio essere felice della vita che sto vivendo e<br />
voglio sentirmi completa. Ho bisogno di capire, ho bisogno di capire la mia<br />
vita. Ho bisogno di prendere delle decisioni, perché adesso so cosa voglio.<br />
Non vi preoccup<strong>at</strong>e per me, starò bene. Mi basta stare all’aeroporto per <strong>in</strong>com<strong>in</strong>ciare<br />
a respirare un’aria diversa, un’aria di vita. Mi farò sentire io appena<br />
trovo una sistemazione. Vi voglio bene… la vostra Giulia».<br />
Giulia alza lo sguardo e sorride al barista, quasi per r<strong>in</strong>graziarlo di quel momento<br />
di calma, e <strong>in</strong> quel momento entra Elena che canta sul motivo musicale diffuso nel<br />
bar. Va verso il bancone.<br />
Pietro [a Elena]: Scusi, sa l’ora?<br />
Elena: Più o meno le otto…<br />
Pietro: Più o meno…<br />
Giulia: E questa è and<strong>at</strong>a. Ora passiamo agli altri.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Lettere d’addio??? [girandosi verso Elena] Cosa posso servir… ma tu… sei<br />
Elena la rossa…<br />
Elena [smettendo di cantare]: Scusi?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [cantando anche lui la canzone]: Ti ricordi? Tutte le sere… la stessa musica…<br />
al Bluenight… io ero un giovane banchista… sono N<strong>in</strong>o… allora avevo<br />
ancora tutti i capelli…<br />
Elena: Ma certo… il Bluenight… una vita fa! Sono contenta di vederti!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Ma dove eri sparita??? Da una notte all’altra… scomparsa… mi sei manc<strong>at</strong>a…<br />
con quella mania di scrivere un diario…<br />
Elena: È proprio con quel diario che ho cambi<strong>at</strong>o la mia vita…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: …che vuoi dire? Dài, racconta!<br />
Elena: La storia è un po’ lunga… ma sono arriv<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> anticipo e devo aspettare<br />
mio marito…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Pure un marito??? Dài, dimmi…<br />
Giulia: Addio lettera… qui si prospetta un’altra storia da ascoltare…<br />
Elena si siede sullo sgabello e tira fuori un vecchio diario.<br />
32
N<strong>in</strong>o: Non mi dire che è quello…<br />
Elena: Già, e questa è la pag<strong>in</strong>a del mio ultimo giorno da escort. «Caro diario…<br />
ecco cosa mi è accaduto oggi… stenterai a crederci… dunque… sono le otto…<br />
apro gli occhi, e sento le urla della mia co<strong>in</strong>quil<strong>in</strong>a che mi rompe per le<br />
scarpe lasci<strong>at</strong>e sempre sparse per la casa. Alle urla segue l’<strong>in</strong>esorabile rumore<br />
dell’aspirapolvere. La luce che penetra dai buchi della serranda di fronte al<br />
mio letto, accompagn<strong>at</strong>a dal rumore dei lavori stradali (che sembrano essere<br />
senza f<strong>in</strong>e), mi fa pensare che oggi sia la giorn<strong>at</strong>a dei rumori, e che la mia giorn<strong>at</strong>a<br />
com<strong>in</strong>ci davvero col piede sbagli<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Persa ormai la speranza di restarmene ancora un po’ sotto le coperte, mi alzo<br />
di sc<strong>at</strong>to e, passando per il corridoio, punto decisa verso il bagno, limitandomi<br />
a fulm<strong>in</strong>are con gli occhi Jill, iper<strong>at</strong>tiva e rompicoglioni sempre di più ogni<br />
m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a!<br />
“L’acqua calda della doccia che ti picchia forte sulla pelle è il miglior rilassante<br />
che conosca”, pensavo mentre aprivo e miscelavo l’acqua. “Elenaaa, guarda<br />
che se non ti sbrighi, la prossima bolletta la paghi tu!”. Nonostante il mio sistema<br />
nervoso, pronto a esplodere, faccio f<strong>in</strong>ta di niente, entro nella doccia e<br />
sento già quel ticchettio sulla pelle immag<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o poco prima. Dopo i pochi m<strong>in</strong>uti,<br />
pass<strong>at</strong>i più <strong>in</strong> fretta del solito, il ritorno al crudo ambiente grigio-marrone<br />
del nostro appartamento mi suggerisce una certa fretta di darmela a gambe<br />
lev<strong>at</strong>e. Guardando a testa alta la strada e il cielo raggiante di questa bella<br />
m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>a, arrivo al bar, dove Giovanni, come ogni giorno, mi capisce dallo<br />
sguardo e mi serve subito cappucc<strong>in</strong>o e cornetto (<strong>in</strong>tegrale al miele, ovviamente).<br />
Giovanni è uno di quelli come me. Venuti da adolescenti a cercare<br />
fortuna <strong>in</strong> una grande città e f<strong>in</strong>iti a sb<strong>at</strong>tere ai marg<strong>in</strong>i di quella società urbana.<br />
Mentre bevo il cappucc<strong>in</strong>o, il mio sguardo cade verso il secondo sgabello,<br />
dove è seduta la solita donna che ogni giorno, alla stessa ora, si siede per consumare<br />
il suo “secondo” spunt<strong>in</strong>o della giorn<strong>at</strong>a: il brunch, come lo chiamano<br />
quelli “come lei”. Indossa l’ennesimo tailleur, accompagn<strong>at</strong>o dall’ennesimo<br />
paio di scarpe décolleté, e pronta a ripartire per l’ennesimo appuntamento.<br />
Io <strong>in</strong>vece, con tuta e scarpe da g<strong>in</strong>nastica, sembro un mostro rispetto a lei,<br />
nonostante credo di esserle coetanea. Una donna lei, una donna di successo.<br />
Una troia io, e nemmeno di tanto successo. Nonostante sia già m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a da un<br />
bel po’, non ho nessuna fretta. Una di quelle come me, la m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a, non ha mai<br />
molto da fare. Torno a casa. Appena Jill rientra <strong>in</strong> casa, decido nuovamente di<br />
uscire, per avere un po’ di tranquillità. F<strong>in</strong>o alle 23 non ho niente da fare,<br />
qu<strong>in</strong>di decido di farmi un giro, prendo un autobus semivuoto, diretto verso la<br />
periferia. Dopo un po’, ormai rimasta sola, scendo. E passeggiando, vedo una<br />
signora anziana impegn<strong>at</strong>a ad aprire la sarac<strong>in</strong>esca della sua osteria. Vedo<br />
33
che si trova <strong>in</strong> difficoltà e mi avvic<strong>in</strong>o per darle una mano. Lei, per r<strong>in</strong>graziarmi,<br />
mi <strong>in</strong>vita a mangiare un boccone <strong>in</strong>sieme. Il locale era pr<strong>at</strong>icamente deserto.<br />
Accetto ben volentieri: la signora ha l’aria simp<strong>at</strong>ica ed è molto disponibile<br />
nei miei confronti. Era da tempo che qualcuno non mi tr<strong>at</strong>tava così. Durante<br />
la sera parlammo delle nostre vite e io, <strong>in</strong> un impeto di coraggio, le dissi la<br />
verità sul mio conto e, con immensa, quanto gradita sorpresa, scoprii che la<br />
cosa non la disturbava aff<strong>at</strong>to, anzi… mi comprendeva.<br />
Fu così che, durante la conversazione, la signora notò il mio diario, poggi<strong>at</strong>o<br />
come sempre accanto a me.<br />
A nessuno era st<strong>at</strong>o permesso accedere al mio diario… f<strong>in</strong>o a quel momento…<br />
ma quella sera… qualcosa stava accadendo… non so… forse quella conversazione,<br />
<strong>in</strong> quel preciso giorno, <strong>in</strong> quel posto… quella lum<strong>in</strong>osa anziana signora<br />
mai <strong>in</strong>contr<strong>at</strong>a prima che sembrava volermi comprendere e accettare<br />
per ciò che ero divent<strong>at</strong>a… il suo sguardo delic<strong>at</strong>amente <strong>in</strong>sistente sul mio<br />
diario… d’un tr<strong>at</strong>to senza motivo lo aprii e com<strong>in</strong>ciai a leggere e mentre leggevo<br />
sorpresi me stessa a ricostruire la storia della mia vita… come se stessi leggendo<br />
e raccontando la storia di qualcun altro… Improvvisamente la dolce signora<br />
mi <strong>in</strong>terruppe e prendendomi la mano lasciò cadere nel palmo un bigliett<strong>in</strong>o<br />
da visita: “Mauro Verdi Editore, Casa Editrice Piccola Città”. Non<br />
dicemmo nulla, ci guardammo negli occhi e mentre si alzava per accogliere i<br />
clienti che stavano entrando, con un fil di voce, le dissi: “Ci penserò… grazie”.<br />
Senza salutare uscii di fretta per andare al lavoro. Presi il bus verso il centro,<br />
verso il night-club, ero <strong>in</strong> ritardo, ma una volta scesa, mi fermai di colpo davanti<br />
all’entr<strong>at</strong>a. Nella mano str<strong>in</strong>gevo forte ancora quel bigliett<strong>in</strong>o… lo rilessi:<br />
“Casa Editrice Piccola Città… 333.4455667, Mauro Verdi Editore… Piccola<br />
Città… Casa Editrice… 333…”. Caro Diario… andiamo a casa… cambiamo<br />
vita…».<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: E, qu<strong>in</strong>di, cosa avete f<strong>at</strong>to, tu e il tuo diario?? La storia è avv<strong>in</strong>cente!<br />
Elena: Dopo una notte pass<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong>sonne tra i miei pensieri e le pag<strong>in</strong>e della mia vita,<br />
decisi di spedire una copia del mio diario allo sconosciuto editore. Ora, dopo<br />
c<strong>in</strong>que anni, la signora Elena Verdi è una afferm<strong>at</strong>a scrittrice, ha due figli<br />
e un marito eccezionale che, una volta, era un piccolo editore. Non f<strong>in</strong>irò mai<br />
di r<strong>in</strong>graziare la signora Domenica, piccola ristor<strong>at</strong>rice, con la quale mangio<br />
tutti i f<strong>in</strong>esettimana.<br />
Alla f<strong>in</strong>e della storia, il barista e Giulia applaudono. Anche Pietro, distoglie lo sguardo<br />
dall’orologio e applaude.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Fantastica!!!! Sei st<strong>at</strong>a fantastica!<br />
34
Pietro: Scusi, Elena! Non ho potuto fare a meno di ascoltare il suo racconto e volevo<br />
congr<strong>at</strong>ularmi con lei per tutta la forza che ha dimostr<strong>at</strong>o di avere e la<br />
consapevolezza con la quale oggi racconta la sua storia. Il raccontare apertamente<br />
il proprio vissuto è <strong>in</strong>dice di grande m<strong>at</strong>urità e sicuramente di esempio<br />
per tutte quelle persone che come me non hanno la forza di reagire. Grazie…<br />
grazie… grazie ancora. Sarebbe così gentile da farmi un autografo?<br />
Elena prende un foglietto dalla borsa e scrive un autografo.<br />
Pietro: Sa… anche sulla mia vita si potrebbe scrivere un libro. La mia è una storia<br />
di vita, di passione, d’amore… [sospirando] eh sì… una bella, grande storia<br />
d’amore f<strong>in</strong>ita male. Lei era tutto per me, era l’aria che dovevo respirare per vivere,<br />
l’acqua che dovevo bere, il cibo che dovevo mangiare, il fiore che dovevo<br />
annaffiare, l’autobus che dovevo prendere, il…<br />
Elena: Mi scusi… signor??<br />
Pietro: Pietro, mi chiamo Pietro!<br />
Elena: Signor Pietro, vada avanti…<br />
Pietro: Sì, mi scusi. È che quando parlo di lei non posso fare a meno di lasciarmi<br />
andare, abbandonarmi a quelle sensazioni così piacevoli, così eccitanti, così…<br />
Il barista tossisce molto forte <strong>in</strong> modo secc<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Pietro: Eravamo fidanz<strong>at</strong>i da quasi un anno, tutto andava bene. Ogni appuntamento<br />
sembrava essere il primo, i crampi allo stomaco, le mani sud<strong>at</strong>e, le gambe<br />
che tremano…<br />
Giulia: Andiamo al sodo… perché è f<strong>in</strong>ita?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Beh, è abbastanza facile <strong>in</strong>tuirlo… sicuramente l’ha lasci<strong>at</strong>o lei dicendogli<br />
che non lo meritava, che lui era troppo per lei, che non riusciva a capirlo… un<br />
classico!<br />
Giulia: L’hai lasci<strong>at</strong>a tu? O, come dice l’esperto [<strong>in</strong>dicando il barista <strong>in</strong> modo ironico],<br />
t’ha lasci<strong>at</strong>o lei?<br />
Pietro: Tutto f<strong>in</strong>ì a causa di un tradimento.<br />
Elena: Ecco, lo sapevo, come sempre voi uom<strong>in</strong>i dovete rov<strong>in</strong>are tutto.<br />
Giulia: Scusa che ne sai, magari è st<strong>at</strong>a lei!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Potrebbe essere che lei lo abbia tradito con il suo migliore amico… E così<br />
doppio tradimento l’amico e la fidanz<strong>at</strong>a, che storia!<br />
Elena: O magari lei lo ha visto flirtare con la cassiera del supermerc<strong>at</strong>o sotto casa,<br />
l’ha seguita dopo la chiusura e l’ha visti entrare <strong>in</strong> un motel.<br />
Giulia: Scus<strong>at</strong>e, perché non ce lo facciamo dire da lui?<br />
35
Elena: Parli pure, Pietro.<br />
Pietro: Dicevo… i giorni seguenti mi sentivo sempre più piccolo e il dolore mi<br />
corrodeva l’anima. Con gli altri f<strong>in</strong>gevo che le cose andavano bene, non volevo<br />
che sapessero, e così pensavo all’unica cosa che mi faceva stare bene: il ricordo<br />
di noi ancora <strong>in</strong>sieme.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Insomma, l’hai tradita tu? O ti ha tradito lei?<br />
Giulia: Che importanza ha? Non vedi come soffre???<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Ho capito che soffre, ma se è f<strong>in</strong>ita un motivo ci sarà e a questo punto io<br />
sono curioso.<br />
Pietro: Ogni giorno ero sempre più consapevole che lei non era più mia e che<br />
qualunque cosa facessi non aveva senso. Iniziai a non mangiare più, a non uscire<br />
più, mi ero conv<strong>in</strong>to di non avere più nessun motivo per vivere. Il mondo<br />
piano piano sembrava cadermi addosso, sembrava che le luci dei lampioni<br />
al mio passaggio si spegnessero… Ma non era così. Era la mia illusione, il<br />
mio pensiero, che mi portavano a vedere la realtà ben diversa da com’era… è<br />
così che ho deciso di partire, anzi di ripartire da zero.<br />
Elena: Bravo!! Era quello che volevo sentirti dire! Il punto è proprio questo: non<br />
puoi crogiolarti nel tuo dolore f<strong>in</strong>o a sparire… devi reagire. Devi cont<strong>in</strong>uare a<br />
vivere, devi buttarti <strong>in</strong> ogni situazione, devi riappropriarti dei tuoi spazi.<br />
Pietro: Lo so, ma non ho la forza, non ho la sp<strong>in</strong>ta.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Dovresti cambiare aria, andare <strong>in</strong> un posto dove tutto è possibile… [silenzio]<br />
So io dove potresti andare: Amsterdam!!!<br />
Giulia ed Elena [parlando tra di loro]: Sì, Amsterdam, città perfetta. Romantica<br />
ma non troppo, trasgressiva quanto basta, e magari potresti <strong>in</strong>contrare la<br />
persona giusta.<br />
Pietro: Non saprei, con la mia ragazza parlavamo spesso di fare un viaggio, ma<br />
Amsterdam, non l’abbiamo mai nom<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>a. Forse è un po’ troppo per com<strong>in</strong>ciare.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Ma no, è la meta perfetta per te. Vai e… vai!!<br />
Parte una musica. Coreografia, durante la quale, i tre aiutano Pietro a sistemare il<br />
bagaglio, gli str<strong>in</strong>gono la mano, lo salutano e lo sp<strong>in</strong>gono fuori scena. Sul f<strong>in</strong>ire della<br />
musica, si vede Elena salutare qualcuno e raccogliere le sue cose.<br />
Elena: Ecco, è arriv<strong>at</strong>o il mio Pigmalione… devo andare… ciao Fabrizio…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Lasciami un <strong>in</strong>dirizzo, un telefono…<br />
Elena: Farò di meglio… ti lascerò qualche riga del mio diario… arrivederci!<br />
Elena esce, lasciando un foglio sul bancone. Il barista lo prende, deluso.<br />
36
N<strong>in</strong>o: Ma aspetta… dammi il tuo numero… magari posso pubblicare le avventure<br />
di un barista all’aeroporto… il suo diario… che me ne faccio…<br />
Prende il foglio e com<strong>in</strong>cia a leggere…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: «Un lungo viaggio è il mio<br />
<strong>at</strong>traverso le vostre vite,<br />
i vostri racconti,<br />
le vostre emozioni,<br />
le ombre,<br />
gli entusiasmi,<br />
i dolori,<br />
le risa,<br />
gli sguardi…<br />
e tutte le mie speranze si animano<br />
mescolandosi alle vostre <strong>parole</strong><br />
e ai vostri silenzi».<br />
Bella però! Sembra scritta proprio per me!<br />
Giulia: Magari riuscissi io a trovare qualcuno che mi scrive questa lettera!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Serve una mano?<br />
Giulia: Lascia perdere… magari puoi far ripartire un po’ di musica!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Agli ord<strong>in</strong>i!<br />
Giulia [legge la seconda lettera]: «Bellezze mie, oggi non vedendo neanche una<br />
mia chiam<strong>at</strong>a vi chiederete che f<strong>in</strong>e abbia f<strong>at</strong>to. Tranquille, sono partita. Strano<br />
eh?! Ma stam<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a mi sono svegli<strong>at</strong>a e guardandomi allo specchio ho scoperto<br />
un’amara verità: sono <strong>in</strong>vecchi<strong>at</strong>a e non me ne sono neanche accorta! Lo<br />
so, lo so… voi me lo dicev<strong>at</strong>e da una vita, ma sapete quanto possa essere testarda.<br />
Mentre preparavo la valigia ho pens<strong>at</strong>o tanto a voi, ai vostri viaggi, ai vostri<br />
<strong>in</strong>contri. E io? Io sono rimasta <strong>in</strong>dietro: ferma a un uomo che non mi ha mai<br />
saputo apprezzare, ferma <strong>in</strong> un posto che mi ha f<strong>at</strong>to solo <strong>in</strong>vecchiare e non<br />
crescere. Ho pens<strong>at</strong>o a quante volte, solo ascoltare i vostri racconti mi faceva<br />
sentire viva e diversa… e così ho deciso: non so ancora dove andrò. Sono all’aeroporto<br />
e aspetto l’apertura dell’agenzia, nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo fantastico sulle dest<strong>in</strong>azioni:<br />
Londra, India, Amsterdam. Vedremo cosa deciderò, vi terrò aggiorn<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
E tranquille: è la cosa più viva che potessi fare!» [piega il foglio soddisf<strong>at</strong>ta<br />
e lo mette nella busta delle lettere].<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: F<strong>in</strong>ito? Concluso? Deciso?<br />
Giulia: Sì, ora non mi aspetta altro che l’apertura dell’agenzia. Ma che ore sono?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Le nove e mezza.<br />
37
Giulia: Ma allora avrà già aperto!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Non credo che aprirà oggi… il proprietario è partito… anche lui…<br />
Giulia: Tu lo sapevi… perché mi hai f<strong>at</strong>to restare qui a perdere tempo?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: A perdere tempo? Credi che avresti deciso di andare, se non avessi sentito<br />
tutte queste storie? Le storie della gente… quelle ci fanno cambiare… quelle<br />
sono la nostra esperienza… l’ho f<strong>at</strong>to per te…<br />
Giulia: Beh… <strong>in</strong> fondo, per cambiare la propria vita, non serve partire per un<br />
viaggio, basta ascoltare e ascoltarsi… e tu… chi sei? Il traghett<strong>at</strong>ore delle anime<br />
<strong>in</strong>quiete?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Io? Io sono quello che resta… f<strong>in</strong>o a quando… qualcuno o qualcosa, lo<br />
sp<strong>in</strong>gerà altrove… io sono la Luisona!<br />
Prende il libro e com<strong>in</strong>cia a leggere a Giulia la storia della Luisona. Nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo la<br />
musica sale e un andirivieni di personaggi, entrano ed escono dalle qu<strong>in</strong>te. Lentamente<br />
il sipario si chiude e si sente solo una voce che chiude.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Addio Luisona!!!<br />
38
Come un fantasma<br />
AUTORE<br />
Desi Bovo<br />
RIELABORAZIONE DI<br />
Annalisa De Pretis<br />
Palcoscenico nero e vuoto. Si sentono <strong>in</strong> sottofondo rumori di città: traffico, chiacchierio<br />
<strong>in</strong>dist<strong>in</strong>to, qualche clacson. All’apertura del sipario si vedono i Grigi già <strong>in</strong> movimento.<br />
I Grigi sono <strong>at</strong>tori di entrambi i sessi, circa una vent<strong>in</strong>a, vestiti di grigio<br />
(pantaloni, giacca, tailleur, jeans e magliette) dalle facce anonime. I Grigi <strong>at</strong>traversano<br />
la scena, escono e rientrano dalle qu<strong>in</strong>te, come se ognuno di loro fosse diretto da<br />
qualche parte. Sono chiusi nel loro percorso, non si guardano, non si toccano. È un via<br />
vai di automi.<br />
Tra i Grigi c’è anche Giulia.<br />
Giulia è un’adolescente sui diciotto anni, anche lei vestita di grigio, ma con una maglietta,<br />
appena visibile, rossa. Giulia si muove con i Grigi, ma è un po’ meno automa,<br />
più <strong>at</strong>tenta a ciò che la circonda e dà l’impressione di essere un po’ persa, di non sapere<br />
bene dove sta andando. È anche molto triste.<br />
Al centro del palcoscenico c’è Sara. Sara è un’adolescente sui sedici anni: è un fantasma.<br />
Ha un vestit<strong>in</strong>o leggero lungo f<strong>in</strong>o ai piedi e un velo che le copre le spalle; entrambi<br />
gli <strong>in</strong>dumenti sono bianchi. Sara è immobile al centro del palco, rivolta verso<br />
il pubblico, sguardo sfoc<strong>at</strong>o. È come se non fosse lì.<br />
I Grigi <strong>in</strong>tanto cont<strong>in</strong>uano il loro andirivieni: qualcuno ha fretta, guarda <strong>in</strong> cont<strong>in</strong>uazione<br />
l’ora e camm<strong>in</strong>a veloce; qualcuno è distr<strong>at</strong>to, legge un giornale mentre camm<strong>in</strong>a;<br />
qualcuno è al cellulare; altri camm<strong>in</strong>ano veloci e <strong>in</strong>differenti a ciò che hanno<br />
<strong>in</strong>torno. I Grigi non si accorgono di Sara e quando le passano vic<strong>in</strong>o la urtano e la<br />
sp<strong>in</strong>tonano.<br />
39
A un tr<strong>at</strong>to il velo di Sara cade a terra e tutti i Grigi si immobilizzano, è un fermo immag<strong>in</strong>e<br />
che li blocca <strong>in</strong> un’azione: guardare l’ora, passarsi una mano tra i capelli, sistemare<br />
la crav<strong>at</strong>ta, rispondere al telefono, ecc.<br />
I rumori di fondo della città si abbassano, ma sono ancora udibili.<br />
Sara [tenendo <strong>in</strong> mano un lembo del velo e trasc<strong>in</strong>andoselo dietro mentre avanza <strong>in</strong> proscenio.<br />
Esprime una solitud<strong>in</strong>e <strong>in</strong>f<strong>in</strong>ita]: Sono fredda e ho gli occhi di ghiaccio<br />
e <strong>in</strong> questo momento mi sento uno straccio.<br />
Mentre parla Sara cont<strong>in</strong>ua ad avanzare quasi scivolando fra i corpi immobili di<br />
fronte a lei. Nessuna reazione da parte dei Grigi, che restano immobili. Anche Sara<br />
non sembra fare f<strong>at</strong>ica a superare i corpi che <strong>in</strong>contra nella sua avanz<strong>at</strong>a. Sara è leggera,<br />
quasi eterea.<br />
Sara: Sfioro ogni cosa che mi passa vic<strong>in</strong>o<br />
e accarezza questo mio dolce vis<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Alla f<strong>in</strong>e della strofa, Sara è giunta <strong>in</strong> proscenio.<br />
Sara [r<strong>in</strong>dossando il velo, avvolgendocisi e giocandoci come a voler sottol<strong>in</strong>eare le proprie<br />
<strong>parole</strong>, spiegarle meglio]: Apro queste mie ali trasparenti e delic<strong>at</strong>e,<br />
gelide e impolver<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Tra queste ali è rimasto solo freddo e polvere bianca<br />
e mi chiedo cosa resterà di me, lieve e stanca.<br />
Mentre Sara recita gli ultimi due versi, i rumori della città com<strong>in</strong>ciano ad aumentare<br />
di volume, f<strong>in</strong>o a coprire quasi del tutto la sua voce. Sara cont<strong>in</strong>ua a parlare ma<br />
non udiamo la sua voce.<br />
Sara: Io sono come la sera<br />
tenebrosa e nera<br />
Io sono come il vento…<br />
Intanto dietro di lei, quasi risvegli<strong>at</strong>i dal rumore della città, i Grigi ricom<strong>in</strong>ciano a<br />
muoversi, concludono l’azione blocc<strong>at</strong>a a metà, ma restano fermi ai loro posti.<br />
Sara [rendendosi conto di essere schiacci<strong>at</strong>a dai rumori, di essere <strong>in</strong>visibile, com<strong>in</strong>cia<br />
a recitare di nuovo la poesia a un volume più alto, va vic<strong>in</strong>o a qualcuno dei Grigi,<br />
cercando un cont<strong>at</strong>to, una comunicazione. È arrabbi<strong>at</strong>a, è <strong>in</strong>tenzion<strong>at</strong>a a far-<br />
40
si «sentire», ciò nonostante i Grigi reagiscono come se una fol<strong>at</strong>a di vento li <strong>in</strong>vestisse,<br />
e non si accorgono di lei]: Io sono come la sera<br />
tenebrosa e nera<br />
Io sono come il vento,<br />
ti guardo, ti accarezzo e ti sento.<br />
Non ho volto, non ho colore, non ho nome…<br />
Su quest’ultimo verso Sara sta tenendo per le spalle Giulia, che le dà la schiena. Giulia<br />
però, a differenza degli altri, sente il cont<strong>at</strong>to con Sara e si gira di sc<strong>at</strong>to. Le due ragazze<br />
restano immobili a fissarsi.<br />
Sara [con voce dolce]: Non ho volto, non ho colore, non ho nome<br />
Ma al mio passaggio lascio le orme.<br />
Mentre recita questi versi rivolti a Giulia, tende una mano per carezzarle il volto, ma<br />
Giulia si ritrae. Intanto i rumori della città si trasformano <strong>in</strong> sonorità quasi musicali.<br />
Sara tenta di nuovo di sfiorare Giulia, ma l’altra si nasconde dietro a uno dei Grigi,<br />
che con il f<strong>in</strong>ire dei rumori cittad<strong>in</strong>i sono torn<strong>at</strong>i manich<strong>in</strong>i immobili. Sara presa<br />
dall’ansia di voler <strong>in</strong> tutti i modi stabilire questo cont<strong>at</strong>to diventa più decisa nel suo<br />
avvic<strong>in</strong>arsi a Giulia.<br />
Giulia <strong>in</strong> risposta usa i corpi dei Grigi come scudo, li sposta ponendoli tra lei e Sara, li<br />
usa per nascondersi e man mano creerà una sorta di barriera umana di sei o sette corpi<br />
(è un abbozzo di scala umana che, con un paio di movimenti, verrà cre<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> una<br />
scena successiva).<br />
D’un tr<strong>at</strong>to Sara si ferma, si arrende. Giulia dopo un’esitazione <strong>in</strong>iziale le si avvic<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Di nuovo le due ragazze si fissano. Sara allunga una mano, ma la lascia sospesa<br />
nell’aria, senza cercare di toccare Giulia. Giulia guarda la mano tesa ma non si muove.<br />
Poi, con voce rotta:<br />
Giulia: Sei morta. Eri la mia migliore amica.<br />
Lentamente cerca di toccare la mano del fantasma. Le mani delle due ragazze giocano<br />
nell’aria, quasi carezzandosi, ma senza sfiorarsi. Su questo gesto le sonorità che<br />
hanno mantenuto l’<strong>at</strong>mosfera <strong>in</strong>quieta e irrisolta si trasformano <strong>in</strong> musica.<br />
Giulia [diventa sempre più <strong>in</strong>quieta e nervosa nel suo tent<strong>at</strong>ivo di afferrare la mano<br />
di Sara. Poi d’un tr<strong>at</strong>to fa un passo <strong>in</strong>dietro e urla all’amica]: Non è giusto!<br />
Dovevi vivere!<br />
41
Sara si str<strong>in</strong>ge nel velo alla rabbia dell’amica. Giulia a sua volta si richiude la giacca<br />
quasi coprendo del tutto il rosso della maglietta. Volta le spalle a Sara, confondendosi<br />
con i Grigi vic<strong>in</strong>o a lei. La musica diventa gravemente mal<strong>in</strong>conica.<br />
Sara: Io… sono quella che sono st<strong>at</strong>a<br />
Tu… mi hai conosciuta… e cerc<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Giulia cont<strong>in</strong>ua a ignorarla, <strong>in</strong>tanto alcuni Grigi, come guid<strong>at</strong>i dalla musica, si dispongono<br />
a semicerchio <strong>in</strong>torno alle due ragazze, mentre quelli posizion<strong>at</strong>i prima da Giulia<br />
<strong>in</strong>iziano a formare la scala umana. Giulia adesso è l’unica che dà le spalle a Sara.<br />
Sara [come a volerle spiegare]: Lui… mi ha ripresa.<br />
Giulia si volta a guardare l’amica.<br />
Sara [sorridendo, triste]: Lei mi accompagna…<br />
I Grigi allargano il semicerchio f<strong>in</strong>o a circondare Sara, vic<strong>in</strong>o alla scala umana, e<br />
Giulia di fronte a lei. Ognuno di loro è mortale. I gesti dei Grigi, lenti ed eleganti,<br />
sono rituali come <strong>in</strong>esorabili. Ognuno di loro dovrà morire e ognuno di loro ferma la<br />
propria corsa di fronte alla morte.<br />
Su quest’ultimo verso, Giulia, commossa, prende per mano Sara, sempre <strong>in</strong> quel modo<br />
leggero per cui si sfiorano senza toccarsi davvero. Sara <strong>in</strong>izia a salire la scala umana,<br />
aiut<strong>at</strong>a da Giulia che la tiene per mano.<br />
Sara [al culm<strong>in</strong>e della scala]: Noi, dall’alto, guardiamo… [lasciando andare la mano<br />
dell’amica che è troppo <strong>in</strong> basso e fa f<strong>at</strong>ica a raggiungerla] Voi, vivete.<br />
La luce sulla scala umana, con Sara al vertice, <strong>in</strong>izia ad abbassarsi.<br />
Sara [sorridendo a Giulia che ha ancora la mano protesa verso di lei]: Loro… sognano.<br />
La luce sulla scala si spegne <strong>def</strong><strong>in</strong>itivamente. Resta illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>a solo Giulia, ancora di<br />
spalle, che lentamente abbassa il braccio proteso.<br />
Giulia [spalle al pubblico]: Ho il cuore di ferro<br />
Ho un sentimento di cera<br />
Ho l’emozione della sera…<br />
42
Sulle sue <strong>parole</strong> la musica <strong>in</strong>izia a trasformarsi di nuovo <strong>in</strong> sonorità e la luce ricom<strong>in</strong>cia<br />
a salire. Quando il palcoscenico è illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o, vediamo che Sara è scomparsa e i<br />
Grigi sono di nuovo nelle posizioni dell’<strong>in</strong>izio, ognuno <strong>in</strong>tento a compiere la propria<br />
azione.<br />
Giulia si guarda <strong>in</strong>torno alla ricerca dell’amica. Mentre era di spalle, la giacca le si<br />
è aperta, e adesso la maglietta rossa è molto visibile. Giulia silenziosamente <strong>in</strong>izia a<br />
piangere. I suoni si ritrasformano <strong>in</strong> rumori cittad<strong>in</strong>i.<br />
Giulia è immobile al centro del palcoscenico. I Grigi ricom<strong>in</strong>ciano il loro via vai cercando<br />
di evitarla, ma talvolta qualcuno la urta.<br />
D’un tr<strong>at</strong>to Giulia si toglie la giacca. I rumori tacciono, sul palcoscenico c’è silenzio.<br />
I Grigi si guardano <strong>in</strong>torno disorient<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
Giulia + voce off di Sara: Leva le tue delic<strong>at</strong>e mani dagli occhi<br />
ti devo vedere.<br />
Leva le tue profum<strong>at</strong>e mani dalla bocca<br />
ti voglio sentire ancora parlare.<br />
Leva le tue candide mani dalle orecchie<br />
ascolta ancora il tuo e il mio respiro…<br />
Giulia [sorridendo al pubblico, e asciugandosi gli occhi]: Due anime divise<br />
ma le vite sono le stesse,<br />
sempre.<br />
Ricom<strong>in</strong>ciano i rumori e il via vai dei Grigi. Giulia resta immobile al centro del palcoscenico.<br />
Qualche secondo, poi il sipario si chiude e restano solo i suoni.<br />
Buio. Silenzio.<br />
43
Cuore <strong>in</strong> vacanza s’<strong>in</strong>namora<br />
AUTORE<br />
Antonio Lorenz<strong>in</strong><br />
ADATTAMENTO DI<br />
K<strong>at</strong>ia Assunt<strong>in</strong>i<br />
Buio <strong>in</strong> scena. Nel silenzio una voce off di adolescente maschio, ispir<strong>at</strong>a, <strong>in</strong>tensa. È la<br />
voce di Antonio.<br />
Antonio [voce off]: Barcellona. Meta di molti. Come tutta la Spagna, del resto.<br />
Gaudí. La Sagrada Familia. E le sue altre opere. Stupende. Magnifiche. Ma<br />
nulla <strong>in</strong> confronto a ciò di cui l’uomo vive. Quella cosa che se non ci fosse si<br />
sopravvivrebbe, senza vivere. Quella cosa che Gaudí forse non ha mai prov<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Quella cosa che si chiama amore. L’amore. Il cuore che b<strong>at</strong>te. L’emozione<br />
che ti suscita soltanto un’altra persona.<br />
Stacco.<br />
Si illum<strong>in</strong>a la scena. È un autobus stilizz<strong>at</strong>o, molto color<strong>at</strong>o, prospettico, file di poltronc<strong>in</strong>e<br />
da tre da un l<strong>at</strong>o e dall’altro. Ai l<strong>at</strong>i e dietro, i f<strong>in</strong>estr<strong>in</strong>i, come degli schermi,<br />
su cui scorrono la strada, la città, il viaggio, come nei vecchi film anni Quaranta.<br />
Sul proscenio, all’estrema destra, l’autista; all’estrema s<strong>in</strong>istra, appoggi<strong>at</strong>a su un sedile,<br />
la guida con il microfono <strong>in</strong> mano, che guarda distr<strong>at</strong>tamente fuori dal f<strong>in</strong>estr<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Sull’autobus una vent<strong>in</strong>a di persone sedute, prevalentemente quaranta-c<strong>in</strong>quantenni<br />
a coppie; chi parla, chi legge, chi ascolta musica, chi dorme, chi si sposta per parlare<br />
con un altro gruppo, chi fa le riprese di ciò che scorre fuori dai f<strong>in</strong>estr<strong>in</strong>i e chi fa le<br />
foto <strong>in</strong> posa al proprio am<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
44
Bisbiglio confuso di persone che parlano, qualche ris<strong>at</strong>a, rumore dell’autobus <strong>in</strong> movimento,<br />
ma sempre con la musica predom<strong>in</strong>ante.<br />
Buio, sfuma la musica, stessa voce off di prima. Mentre parla, un occhio di bue illum<strong>in</strong>a<br />
le persone o i gruppi <strong>in</strong>dic<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
Antonio [voce off]: Una noia totale. Gioventù <strong>in</strong> m<strong>in</strong>oranza <strong>in</strong> un gruppo <strong>in</strong> media<br />
sui c<strong>in</strong>quanta, circa. Non me ne <strong>in</strong>tendo. Quaranta, c<strong>in</strong>quanta, uguale. Ho<br />
qu<strong>in</strong>dici anni, sai cosa ne so della differenza tra quelli di quaranta e c<strong>in</strong>quanta.<br />
Un po’ di rughe <strong>in</strong> più. Boh. E poi l’unico ragazzo di tutta la corriera, io. E una<br />
ragazza, dodici anni, lei. Peggio ancora. Anch’io ero vecchio per lei.<br />
Buio. Musica ripresa del pezzo musicale precedente.<br />
Si riaccende la luce solo sul ragazzo, Antonio, che si sporge a guardare nel sedile davanti<br />
a lui la ragazza, Alessia, che fa i compiti. Sfuma la musica e si alza l’audio ambiente,<br />
prende forma la realtà anche sonora dell’autobus.<br />
Alessia [girandosi]: Ciao, Alessia.<br />
Antonio [saltando sul seggiol<strong>in</strong>o davanti accanto a lei]: Antonio. Tutto bene?<br />
Alessia: Sì, e tu?<br />
Antonio: Anch’io. [<strong>in</strong>dicando i libri] Ma ti sei port<strong>at</strong>a i libri <strong>in</strong> vacanza?<br />
Alessia: Per forza, devo fare un sacco di compiti.<br />
Antonio: Ma dài, è quasi l’ultimo dell’anno! Io ho deciso che li faccio tutti dopo,<br />
quando torno a casa.<br />
Alessia: E chi li sentiva i miei?!?<br />
Antonio: Ma come vai a scuola?<br />
Alessia: Così… buono, perché buono vogliono i miei genitori! Tranne <strong>in</strong> Musica,<br />
[mentre parla mostra il libro che sta leggendo, è un testo di educazione musicale]<br />
discreto… Ma cosa mi <strong>in</strong>teressa come è f<strong>at</strong>to uno strumento? Cioè, capisco<br />
le note, la respirazione, eccetera, ma cosa me ne faccio io se so che la tromba ha<br />
questo, quello o quell’altro?<br />
Antonio: Fortuna che alle superiori non si fa!!!<br />
Miodrag [al microfono]: Benv<strong>in</strong>guts a Barcellona! Esto es el primer lavoro de<br />
Gaudí. Mira che lampiones en esta plaza! Che l<strong>in</strong>dos soy!<br />
Antonio [con il naso <strong>at</strong>tacc<strong>at</strong>o al f<strong>in</strong>estr<strong>in</strong>o e, con la scusa, molto vic<strong>in</strong>o ad Alessia]:<br />
Ma guarda che lampioni! No, veramente. Il solito pirla di architetto. Ma cosa<br />
li pagano a fare questi? Vengo io e faccio tutto. Anche meglio.<br />
Alessia [ironica]: Ah sì?<br />
Antonio: Non mi dirai che ti piacciono!<br />
Alessia: Boh! Però sono meglio dei libri di Storia dell’arte, qui almeno si vede.<br />
45
Antonio: E sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto niente <strong>in</strong>terrogazioni.<br />
Alessia: Sì, forse anche per quello!<br />
Ridono. Poi Alessia si alza e va a sedersi vic<strong>in</strong>o alla madre. L’autobus è tutto illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Musica: Love the Way You Lie, Em<strong>in</strong>em-Rihanna.<br />
Alessia e Antonio sono seduti distanti, lui la guarda cercando di non farsi notare. Lei<br />
ogni tanto gli sorride. I «vecchi», dietro, cont<strong>in</strong>uano a fare <strong>at</strong>tività varie, come prima.<br />
Qualcuno si accorge della passione di Antonio, e ridacchia.<br />
Sfuma la musica, sale l’audio ambiente, la luce si concentra su Antonio e Miodrag,<br />
che gli si avvic<strong>in</strong>a e gli parla <strong>in</strong> confidenza.<br />
Miodrag: Vayas a sentarte cerca de tu morosa, che fai ancora qui?<br />
Antonio [imbarazz<strong>at</strong>o]: Possibile che quando un ragazzo parla con un ragazzo…<br />
è solo un amico e quando parla con una ragazza… è fidanz<strong>at</strong>o?<br />
Miodrag [ridendo e allontanandosi]: Como quieras, mi amigo!<br />
Buio, <strong>in</strong>izia la musica, flamenco. Antonio viene <strong>in</strong> proscenio e parla verso il pubblico,<br />
accennando ogni tanto dei passi di danza.<br />
Antonio: Zoppicai parlando. Come se il mio cuore volesse tapparmi quella lurida<br />
boccaccia che <strong>in</strong>vece voleva esprimere l’idea del cervello. In quel momento capii<br />
che non provavo solo amicizia, ma amore. Volevo sapere se mi amava. Se mi<br />
pensava. Se poteva esserci qualcosa tra di noi. Volevo sapere cosa pensava. Pensavo<br />
a cosa potesse pensare. Cosa sta facendo lei? Sorride? Piange? Perché?<br />
Facevo paura a me stesso. Non capivo. Il cuore. Ferm<strong>at</strong>i. Fammi pensare col<br />
cervello.<br />
Niente. B<strong>at</strong>tito. Ti-ta. Ti-ta. Ti-ta ti-ta. Ti-ta ti-ta. Ti-ta ti-ta ti-ta. Ti-ta ti-ta<br />
ti-ta. Ti-ta ti-ta ti-ta ti-ta ti-ta. Ti-ta ti-ta ti-ta ti-ta. Il cuore accelerava. Cosa<br />
pensa? Cosa fa? Pensa a me? A chi pensa? E il flamenco. I tacchi che picchiavano<br />
davano ancora più velocità al mio cuore. Tutto il mio corpo era <strong>in</strong> subbuglio.<br />
Sud<strong>at</strong>o. B<strong>at</strong>tito a mille. Ecco come m’<strong>at</strong>tirò nella sua esca <strong>in</strong>fernale. Sì,<br />
perché lei mica mi amava. Il bus ci accompagnò all’hotel. Ero strem<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Maledetto amore, perché mi colpisci ancora? Dormendo avrei forse tolto<br />
quell’amore di dosso. La m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a dopo feci anche la doccia, come per riuscire<br />
a lavarmi via l’amore. Ma quel dann<strong>at</strong>o rimase. Però si placò e mi fece perlomeno<br />
vivere. Vivere amando, senza soffrire troppo.<br />
Ancora due passi di danza, il pezzo musicale f<strong>in</strong>isce. Buio.<br />
Risale l’audio dell’autobus, di nuovo luce su loro due seduti.<br />
46
Antonio: Vuoi ascoltare musica?<br />
Alessia: No, grazie. Sono stanca.<br />
Antonio: Hai ragione. Sappi comunque che se non vuoi svegliarti perché sei<br />
stanca, dovrai farlo poi, perché dobbiamo visitare la città; se vuoi svegliarti sei<br />
pronta per la giorn<strong>at</strong>a e non devi f<strong>at</strong>icare dopo. Insomma, non hai tanto tempo<br />
per dormire e non potresti fare altro che cercare di svegliarti.<br />
Alessia: Che hai detto?<br />
Antonio: No, volevo dire che…<br />
Alessia [<strong>in</strong>terrompendolo]: Sì, sì, ho capito… però ho sonno!<br />
Antonio: Beh, io ascolto il cd di Michael; se vuoi, puoi ascoltare anche tu [canticchiando<br />
She’s go<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Hollywood / She’s go<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Hollywood tonight / She’s go<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> Hollywood / She’s go<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Hollywood tonight / It’s true, th<strong>at</strong> you…].<br />
Alessia chiude gli occhi. Antonio dopo pochi secondi si toglie una cuffia e, dando di gomito<br />
ad Alessia, gliela porge.<br />
Antonio: Questa devi proprio ascoltarla!<br />
Alessia [sbadigliando]: Ok…<br />
Antonio [canticchia: I like the way are you hold<strong>in</strong>g me / it doesn’t m<strong>at</strong>ter how you’re<br />
lov<strong>in</strong>g me / I like the way are you lov<strong>in</strong>g me / it doesn’t m<strong>at</strong>ter how you’re hold<strong>in</strong>g<br />
me / I like the way… Too bad, Hollywood… / Too bad / Hollywood… / Monster<br />
/ He’s a monster He’s an animal…]: Stupenda! Non capisco molto, ma quel<br />
poco che capisco mi basta.<br />
Alessia: F<strong>in</strong>almente è f<strong>in</strong>ita!<br />
Antonio: Sono un po’ una lagna le ultime canzoni dei cd, eh?<br />
Alessia: Abbastanza.<br />
Antonio: Senti questa… Prima non l’avevi sentita, Hollywood tonight. All’<strong>in</strong>izio<br />
parte che sembra una canzone da cerimonia. Aspetta che parta. Vedrai che ti<br />
piacerà.<br />
Miodrag: Ti-tu. Siamo arriv<strong>at</strong>i. Esta mañana visitamos la Sagrada Familia y la<br />
casa de Gaudí.<br />
Alessia [rendendogli le cuffie]: Tieni.<br />
Antonio [guardandola]: L’hai f<strong>at</strong>to apposta perché non ti piace la mia musica?<br />
Alessia sorride. Stacco con buio. Musica: H<strong>at</strong>e Th<strong>at</strong> I Love You, Rihanna. Antonio<br />
viene di nuovo avanti verso il pubblico, come per parlarci <strong>in</strong> confidenza.<br />
Antonio: Non avevo mai visto una cosa più bella. Meraviglioso. Ritiro quello che<br />
ho detto prima su Gaudí, guardando quei lampioni. Gaudí è un grande. Nes-<br />
47
suno, sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto io, poteva fare di meglio. Mi guardavo <strong>in</strong> giro, stupef<strong>at</strong>to: aveva<br />
ide<strong>at</strong>o tutto quel genio. Nonostante ciò a volte il mio sguardo si perdeva<br />
cercando lei, Alessia. Stupendo nome. Dopo aver visto questo, tornammo sull’autobus.<br />
Ancora lei. Vic<strong>in</strong>o a me. Ti amo. Quando tornammo <strong>in</strong> albergo, mi<br />
misi sul letto e ascoltai I Like the Way You Love Me. Mentre la ascoltavo, pensavo<br />
a lei, e la immag<strong>in</strong>avo dove pensavo fosse. A cena, lei si sedette lontano da<br />
me. Ci rimasi male. E qui il f<strong>at</strong>o rientrò <strong>in</strong> scena. Mise lei es<strong>at</strong>tamente di fronte<br />
a me. Non dovevo girare il collo, spostare la sedia. Era es<strong>at</strong>tamente di fronte<br />
a me. Due tavol<strong>at</strong>e più avanti, ma sempre di fronte a me. Ma la m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a del<br />
giorno dopo, lei non c’era. Ascoltai ciò che dissero i suoi genitori, facendo f<strong>in</strong>ta<br />
di non ascoltare: «È rimasta <strong>in</strong> albergo, non stava tanto bene… ».<br />
Musica: La notte, Modà. Dietro i f<strong>in</strong>estr<strong>in</strong>i <strong>in</strong>izia a piovere e la città <strong>in</strong>grigisce.<br />
Antonio: NO! Non… Perché? Io… lei… Cosa? E… ma… come? Non può essere.<br />
M<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a senza lei. M<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a senza sole. Sembrava che ne risentisse anche la<br />
n<strong>at</strong>ura. Tutto era grigio. Compensava il mio dolore. Riuscì anche ad <strong>at</strong>tenuarlo.<br />
Ascoltando musica forte altern<strong>at</strong>a a debole.<br />
E mi divertii lo stesso, al vedere gli altri, ma dentro di me, il buio. Notte.<br />
Notte. / Il sole spento mi guarda / piangendo pure lui. / Io piango ma non lacrime:<br />
/ piango il cuore, / un <strong>at</strong>timo di dolore. / ’Notte.<br />
Questi erano i sentimenti dentro di me. Fuori di me, ridevo con Miodrag e il<br />
suo amico.<br />
Tornammo <strong>in</strong> hotel. Lei era ancora nella sua stanza. Vado? Non vado? Vorrà<br />
compagnia? Sì vado, sai che noia la solitud<strong>in</strong>e! Non è detto, magari le piace.<br />
E allora vado e le chiedo! E se dorme? Picchiando sulla porta la svegli. E magari<br />
non ha neanche la forza di venire ad aprire. Ahhhhhhhh! Tilt.<br />
Alla f<strong>in</strong>e, domanda non domanda, non andai.<br />
Stacco. Buio.<br />
Luce sull’autobus. Musica. Antonio con le cuffie e un fumetto. Cupo. D’improvviso<br />
sobbalza quando Alessia gli va vic<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Alessia: Mi siedo qui?<br />
Antonio: Certo. Ciao.<br />
Alessia: Ciao.<br />
Antonio: Stai meglio?<br />
Alessia: Abbastanza.<br />
Antonio: Ti è pass<strong>at</strong>o il mal di gola?<br />
48
Alessia: Abbastanza.<br />
Antonio: Hai lott<strong>at</strong>o per uscire?<br />
Alessia: Abbastanza.<br />
Antonio: Certo che hai la risposta autom<strong>at</strong>ica. Il tuo «abbastanza» mi ricorda la<br />
risposta alla domanda com’è and<strong>at</strong>a a scuola… «bene».<br />
Alessia: Forse.<br />
Poi prende il cellulare e <strong>in</strong>izia a mandare sms. Antonio resta lì come un cret<strong>in</strong>o. Dopo<br />
un po’ Alessia si mette una cuffia e dà l’altra ad Antonio.<br />
Alessia: Vuoi? Sappi che non ascolto truzzo come te.<br />
Antonio: Ok.<br />
Alessia: Così ti fai una cultura al di fuori del truzzo.<br />
Antonio: Io? Ma se una volta ascoltavo punk, rock eccetera?<br />
Alessia: Ok. Questa è Californic<strong>at</strong>ion.<br />
Antonio: Guarda che la conosco, anzi so tutto il testo a memoria e la so anche<br />
suonare con la chitarra, pure con l’assolo. È il mio cavallo di b<strong>at</strong>taglia.<br />
Alessia [ironica]: Wow!<br />
Stacco. Buio. Parte la musica di Californic<strong>at</strong>ion. Occhio di bue su Antonio <strong>in</strong> proscenio,<br />
decisamente depresso.<br />
Antonio: Lei non mi ama, ormai non ho dubbi. Non mi vede nemmeno. Ma il<br />
mio cuore b<strong>at</strong>te per lei! È arriv<strong>at</strong>a la notte di Capodanno. Si festeggia. Anch’io<br />
vorrei festeggiare, ma lei? Speravo che venisse con me, <strong>in</strong>vece… Mi guardo<br />
dietro. Avanti. Niente. Lei non c’è. Maledetto nuovo anno, non sei ancora n<strong>at</strong>o<br />
e già mi fai questo?<br />
Mi giro. Lei. Con i suoi. Ma vai! Ma vieni! Ma chi sono!<br />
Leggero cambio luce che illum<strong>in</strong>a fiocamente i passeggeri dell’autobus tutti eleganti<br />
ed eccit<strong>at</strong>i; tra loro Alessia. Nuova musica, una musica da festa. Sul fondale un enorme<br />
orologio com<strong>in</strong>cia il conto alla rovescia 59, 58, 57, ecc.<br />
Antonio [ancora <strong>in</strong> proscenio]: L’anno nuovo arrivò senza che noi sapessimo<br />
quando fosse es<strong>at</strong>tamente. Perlomeno lei era lì vic<strong>in</strong>o a me, <strong>in</strong> quella mandria<br />
di vecchi che mi augurarono buon anno.<br />
Consiglio: non festeggi<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong> Piazza di Spagna se siete a Barcellona, festeggi<strong>at</strong>e<br />
<strong>in</strong> spiaggia. Piazza di Spagna: non c’è niente, Plaza C<strong>at</strong>alunya: c’è solo cas<strong>in</strong>o,<br />
e ambulanze… La spiaggia <strong>in</strong>vece è strafica!!!<br />
49
Nel viaggio di ritorno parlammo ancora, ma il mio amore si stava esaurendo<br />
pian piano. E così il cuore tornò tranquillo, senza rimpianti. E io stetti bene.<br />
L’amore se ne andò com’era venuto: mi svegliai dopo aver festeggi<strong>at</strong>o Capodanno<br />
e quasi non l’amavo. Mi svegliai il giorno dopo e non l’amavo più.<br />
Alla f<strong>in</strong>e della b<strong>at</strong>tuta l’orologio sul fondale segna 00:00. Buio. Rumore di fuochi<br />
d’artificio e musica forte.<br />
Resta la musica e l’orologio sul fondale <strong>in</strong>izia a scorrere velocissimo. A un tr<strong>at</strong>to si ferma<br />
sulle 13:15. Luce su palco, la scena è completamente diversa. È un piccolo monolocale<br />
molto «spagnoleggiante». Divano letto chiuso, un tavol<strong>in</strong>o con due sedie, un<br />
piccolo armadio e un fornello da campeggio appoggi<strong>at</strong>o su un mobiletto.<br />
Alessia, che adesso ha circa trent’anni, entra ed esce dalla qu<strong>in</strong>ta che «dà sul bagno»;<br />
si sta vestendo, e <strong>in</strong>tanto parla al cellulare. In sottofondo c’è la voce <strong>in</strong> spagnolo di una<br />
piccola televisione. In tutta questa seconda parte la voce della televisione <strong>in</strong> sottofondo<br />
è sempre presente.<br />
Alessia [mentre esce ed entra <strong>in</strong> scena e si veste]: Insomma, stam<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a ero per strada<br />
e uno all’improvviso urla: «Alessia!». Così mi giro e vedo un ragazzo… Aveva<br />
un viso familiare, ma non sapevo proprio chi fosse. Lui, mi guarda con degli occhi<br />
lucidi… No, forse non dorme da giorni. A un certo punto mi dice: «Sei<br />
tu?». Ma che domande: ovvio che sono io! Ma lui <strong>in</strong>siste: «Sei tu Alessia?». Però<br />
ti giuro, io non avevo idea di chi fosse, così glielo chiedo, no? Gli dico: «Sì, sono<br />
io. Ma tu chi sei?». E lui: «Antonio. Ti ricordi?». Niente, buio totale. Poi lui<br />
mi dice: «Era Capodanno e lo festeggiammo qui, a Barcellona». Ma io, niente,<br />
cont<strong>in</strong>uo a non ricordarmi. E lui: «Dài, quel viaggio organizz<strong>at</strong>o, quand’era?<br />
Sì, il 2010, e noi due eravamo gli unici ragazzi e siamo st<strong>at</strong>i quasi sempre <strong>in</strong>sieme:<br />
io ti ho f<strong>at</strong>to ascoltare musica truzza e il cd di Michael, tu altra musica truzza<br />
e canzoni vecchie. Eravamo… ». A quel punto ho capito! Era un tipo che avevo<br />
<strong>in</strong>contr<strong>at</strong>o la prima volta che sono venuta a Barcellona, ero con i miei e<br />
lui, che aveva un paio d’anni più di me, cont<strong>in</strong>uava a starmi appiccic<strong>at</strong>o e a farmi<br />
ascoltare della musica orribile. [Alessia ride per qualcosa che dice l’amica al telefono]<br />
Eh, lo so anch’io che sono pass<strong>at</strong>i più di dieci anni! Che ne so, si vede che<br />
ha una memoria spaventosa, io non lo avrei mai riconosciuto… Però forse si ricorda<br />
di me perché anche per lui era la prima volta a Barcellona. Come fare per<br />
dimenticarsi di una città così? È per questo che mi sono trasferita qui!… Comunque<br />
per farla breve mi ha chiesto di uscire stasera… Sì, mi ha <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>a a cena.<br />
Ma, non lo so, dovrebbe passare a prendermi tra poco, no, non sono ancora<br />
pronta… È che non so se mettermi il vestito rosso o quello a fiori… Sì, lui è<br />
davvero car<strong>in</strong>o, mica me lo ricordavo così car<strong>in</strong>o, e poi mi sembra anche <strong>in</strong><br />
50
gamba… No, non lo so, abbiamo parl<strong>at</strong>o solo c<strong>in</strong>que m<strong>in</strong>uti, per la strada, stasera<br />
mi racconterà un po’ di cose… Allora? Vestito rosso o a fiori? Dài, provo<br />
il rosso… [come Alessia ha <strong>in</strong>fil<strong>at</strong>o il vestito, si sente il campanello] Accidenti, è<br />
già qui e io non sono ancora pronta… [ridendo] Sì, sì un’ottima scusa per farlo<br />
salire… Dài, ora vado, ti chiamo domani e ti racconto… Sì, sì, ciao!<br />
Alessia ri<strong>at</strong>tacca e risponde al citofono.<br />
Alessia: Ciao, puoi salire un <strong>at</strong>timo che sto f<strong>in</strong>endo di prepararmi?<br />
Mentre aspetta che Antonio arrivi, Alessia raccoglie un sacco di vestiti e li butta nell’armadio.<br />
Antonio entra <strong>in</strong> scena, anche lui sui trent’anni, jeans e maglione. È un<br />
bel ragazzo, ma ha l’aria stanca e tir<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Alessia: Scusami sono un po’ <strong>in</strong> ritardo, siediti <strong>in</strong>tanto che ti verso un bicchiere<br />
di v<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Antonio si siede sul divano, Alessia porta due bicchieri di rosso.<br />
Alessia: Facciamo un br<strong>in</strong>disi! Agli <strong>in</strong>contri dell’ultimo dell’anno!<br />
Antonio: Già, sembra che io e te siamo dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>i a vederci solo a Barcellona il 30<br />
di dicembre… È un po’ strano, no? Il dest<strong>in</strong>o…<br />
Alessia: Eh sì, abbastanza.<br />
Antonio: Vedo che non hai perso la risposta autom<strong>at</strong>ica…<br />
Alessia [ridendo]: È vero, mi ero dimentic<strong>at</strong>a di quanto ti dava fastidio che rispondessi<br />
sempre «abbastanza». Dài, f<strong>in</strong>isco di prepararmi, ci metto un <strong>at</strong>timo.<br />
Alessia esce <strong>in</strong> qu<strong>in</strong>ta.<br />
Antonio: Allora oramai vivi qui?<br />
Alessia [da fuori scena]: Sì, sono c<strong>in</strong>que anni!<br />
Antonio: Quanto ti <strong>in</strong>vidio! Anche io avrei voluto trasferirmi prima. Però f<strong>in</strong>almente<br />
ce l’ho f<strong>at</strong>ta, domani vado a vedere casa nuova. Dalle fotografie sembra<br />
stupenda, spaziosa e con un sacco di luce…<br />
Alessia [rientrando <strong>in</strong> scena e <strong>in</strong>iziando a preparare la borsa]: Ora sono io che <strong>in</strong>vidio<br />
te, io vivo <strong>in</strong> quaranta metri quadri e una f<strong>in</strong>estra sola!<br />
Antonio: Beh, però è davvero molto car<strong>in</strong>o qui.<br />
Alessia: Sì, abbastanza, oh scusami, la risposta autom<strong>at</strong>ica! E <strong>in</strong>vece questa casa<br />
dov’è?<br />
51
Antonio: Non troppo lontano da qui, ma non lo so con es<strong>at</strong>tezza, non conosco<br />
le strade ancora. Mi sembra che si chiami Carrer d’Alcolea…<br />
Alessia: Sì, so dov’è. Beh, ma se hai voglia, visto che domani è domenica, vengo<br />
con te, così ti <strong>in</strong>segno la strada…<br />
Antonio:Ma certo! Grazie!<br />
Alessia: Ok, sono pronta, f<strong>in</strong>almente!<br />
Antonio: Perfetto. Ti va di andare a mangiare qualcosa? Italiano?<br />
Alessia: Sì, saranno due anni che non mangio italiano.<br />
Alessia si mette la giacca, Antonio <strong>in</strong> piedi sembra imbarazz<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Alessia: Andiamo?<br />
Antonio [titubante]: S-sì…<br />
Alessia: Problemi?<br />
Antonio: No, sono solo <strong>in</strong> imbarazzo…<br />
Alessia: E perché?<br />
Antonio: Ecco, non ho prenot<strong>at</strong>o l’albergo perché pensavo di entrare oggi a casa<br />
nuova. Poi c’è st<strong>at</strong>o un disguido e mi hanno rimand<strong>at</strong>o a domani, ho telefon<strong>at</strong>o<br />
<strong>in</strong> un sacco di posti ma è il 30 dicembre non ho trov<strong>at</strong>o nemmeno una camera.<br />
Così, però solo se non ti scoccia, ecco, pensavo… non è che mi ospiti<br />
per stanotte?<br />
Alessia: Ma certo! [guardandosi <strong>in</strong>torno] Staremo un po’ stretti…<br />
Antonio: Grazie. Allora andiamo?<br />
I due escono. Buio <strong>in</strong> scena.<br />
Luce <strong>in</strong> scena. Alessia è mezza addorment<strong>at</strong>a nel suo letto. Entra <strong>in</strong> scena Antonio<br />
con la colazione.<br />
Antonio: Buongiorno.<br />
Alessia: Buongiorno a te… Oh, grazie!<br />
Alessia <strong>in</strong>izia a mangiare, Antonio è <strong>in</strong> piedi titubante…<br />
Alessia: Sei già pronto per uscire?<br />
Antonio: Ecco, prima di andare a vedere la casa devo fare una cosa… Te l’avrei<br />
detto ieri sera, ma poi abbiamo parl<strong>at</strong>o d’altro… sono un po’ <strong>in</strong> imbarazzo…<br />
Ma non è come sembra, io…<br />
Alessia: Così mi preoccupi, che è successo?<br />
Antonio: Ecco, devo andare all’aeroporto: tra un’ora arriva mia moglie!<br />
52
Alessia resta con la brioche a mezz’aria. Sciocc<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Antonio: Davvero, ora non c’è il tempo, ma dopo, dopo ti spiego tutto…<br />
Alessia: Non mi sembra ci sia granché da spiegare. Grazie per la colazione e chiudi<br />
la porta quando esci.<br />
Antonio: Davvero, non è come sembra.<br />
Alessia: Certo, ora se non ti dispiace…<br />
Antonio: Va bene vado, ma promettimi che più tardi mi farai spiegare…<br />
Alessia: Come no… Ciao.<br />
Antonio esce di scena. Alessia scoppia a piangere mentre f<strong>in</strong>isce la brioche.<br />
Buio <strong>in</strong> scena.<br />
Luce <strong>in</strong> scena. Si sente la voce di Alessia da fuori scena. È al telefono.<br />
Alessia: Sì, sì, lo ammetto. Mi piace. Mi piace proprio tanto. Strano, perché dieci<br />
anni fa non lo calcolavo neanche. Però questo è farsi male. [entrando <strong>in</strong> scena]<br />
Cosa vuole questo da me? Mi piace. Di più. Mi potrei <strong>in</strong>namorare. I suoi<br />
modi, le sue car<strong>in</strong>erie. Certo, anch’io! Come fa a non essere spos<strong>at</strong>o uno così?<br />
Insomma, mi ha mand<strong>at</strong>o un messaggio per vederci nel pomeriggio e io gli ho<br />
pure detto di sì. Idiota. Idiota. Perché dire di sì? [imitando la voce di Antonio]<br />
«D’accordo… ci troviamo <strong>in</strong> Plaza C<strong>at</strong>alunya davanti all’Hard Rock Cafè, alle<br />
15, ok?».<br />
Idiota, io, non lui! Idiota. Alle 14:50 sono lì, davanti all’Hard. Lui non c’è.<br />
Non c’è neanche alle 15. E io, come una <strong>def</strong>iciente, <strong>in</strong>vece di andarmene resto<br />
lì a sperare <strong>in</strong> quest’amore impossibile. Perché? E cont<strong>in</strong>uo a dirmi che deve<br />
arrivare, non può darmi buca! E <strong>in</strong>vece mi arriva un sms: «Scusami, ma non<br />
posso venire. Possiamo fare per stasera»… No, non gli ho ancora risposto! E<br />
che gli dico? Non voglio farmi del male, ma neanche rimpiangere per sempre<br />
questa occasione, anche se mi sa che l’occasione la vedo solo io. Però scusa,<br />
perché non sta con sua moglie a festeggiare il Capodanno? Perché telefona a<br />
me? Non lo so che gli rispondo… ci devo pensare… Ora vado a fare la spesa,<br />
devo ricordarmi di comprare i dodici ac<strong>in</strong>i d’uva. Sì, e poi ne mangio uno ad<br />
ogni r<strong>in</strong>tocco… da sola! Come… Ma davvero secondo te dovrei dargli una<br />
possibilità… non lo so, ci penso… Sì, dài, ci sentiamo dopo.<br />
Alessia ri<strong>at</strong>tacca e resta seduta sul divano pensierosa. Dopo un po’ prende il cellulare<br />
e sillaba mentre scrive il messaggio.<br />
Alessia: Stasera alle dieci passa da qui. Dobbiamo parlare.<br />
53
Buio <strong>in</strong> scena.<br />
Luce <strong>in</strong> scena, Alessia passeggia nervosa e cont<strong>in</strong>ua a guardare l’orologio.<br />
Alessia [fra sé]: Ora basta aspettare!<br />
Si sente il campanello. Dopo un <strong>at</strong>timo Antonio entra <strong>in</strong> scena, trafel<strong>at</strong>o e tutto scarmigli<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Antonio: Scusa per il ritardo, la città è un delirio.<br />
Alessia resta <strong>in</strong> silenzio, offesa.<br />
Antonio: Ci stiamo separando!<br />
Alessia cont<strong>in</strong>ua a restare <strong>in</strong> silenzio.<br />
Antonio: Ci credi se ti dico che non ti ho mai dimentic<strong>at</strong>a?<br />
Alessia [acida]: Cos’è, il ritornello che il primo amore non si scorda mai? Invece<br />
che sei spos<strong>at</strong>o mi pare tu te lo sia dimentic<strong>at</strong>o <strong>in</strong> fretta l’altra notte!<br />
Antonio: Te lo ripeto, ci stiamo separando.<br />
Alessia: È per questo che siete a Barcellona <strong>in</strong>sieme?<br />
Antonio: Francesca è spagnola. Ci siamo conosciuti <strong>in</strong> Italia, ma ci siamo spos<strong>at</strong>i<br />
qui, per la sua famiglia. Abbiamo sempre vissuto <strong>in</strong> Italia e lei vuole restare<br />
là, ma i documenti andavano firm<strong>at</strong>i qui, per questo è venuta. Oggi ho f<strong>at</strong>to<br />
tardi dall’avvoc<strong>at</strong>o, per questo ho salt<strong>at</strong>o il nostro appuntamento…<br />
Alessia: Voglio bere!<br />
Si versa del v<strong>in</strong>o e lo offre ad Antonio.<br />
Antonio: So che volevi festeggiare <strong>in</strong> spiaggia, ma rischiamo di restare blocc<strong>at</strong>i <strong>in</strong><br />
macch<strong>in</strong>a se usciamo ora, è quasi mezzanotte. Che vuoi fare?<br />
Alessia: Questo significa che l’argomento «tu spos<strong>at</strong>o – io amante» è già chiuso?<br />
Antonio: Io ti amo, ti amo da quel primo <strong>in</strong>contro. Non pensavo di essere ancora<br />
<strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>o, ma me ne sono accorto subito, appena ti ho rivista. Avrei lasci<strong>at</strong>o<br />
mia moglie comunque, ma dopo ieri notte ho pens<strong>at</strong>o fosse giusto accelerare<br />
i tempi, per me, per te e anche per lei.<br />
Alessia: Ah!<br />
Antonio: Allora, che vuoi fare?<br />
54
Alessia prende un sacchett<strong>in</strong>o dal tavolo e tira fuori un grappolo d’uva.<br />
Alessia: Qui a Barcellona c’è una tradizione, si mangia un ac<strong>in</strong>o d’uva ad ogni<br />
r<strong>in</strong>tocco, dicono che porta fortuna.<br />
La luce si abbassa, ritorna la musica da festeggiamento del primo Capodanno, botti e<br />
rumori. L’orologio sul fondale <strong>in</strong>izia il conto alla rovescia: 10, 9, 8, ecc.<br />
Alessia e Antonio si guardano <strong>in</strong> silenzio. L’orologio segna le 00:00. Alessia dà un<br />
chicco d’uva ad Antonio, Antonio <strong>in</strong>vece la bacia.<br />
Buio.<br />
55
SCENA I<br />
Mi chiamo Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra<br />
AUTORE<br />
Ana Isabel Andrade Luna<br />
ADATTAMENTO DI<br />
Elisa Bortolomedi<br />
Atto unico<br />
Sipario chiuso, una sedia sul proscenio e un occhio di bue punt<strong>at</strong>o su Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra. Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra<br />
è una ragazza sui vent’anni. Veste <strong>in</strong> maniera elegante, con gonna plissett<strong>at</strong>a<br />
e camicetta, è seduta <strong>in</strong> maniera molto composta.<br />
Voce fuori scena: Allora, parlami di te…<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [prendendo un bel respiro e sorridendo]: S<strong>in</strong>ceramente non saprei da dove<br />
<strong>in</strong>iziare, perché credo che ogni storia racchiuda milioni di momenti e ricordi<br />
ed eventi; [poi come colpita da un’<strong>in</strong>tuizione] anche se la mia storia è tutta nel<br />
mio nome.<br />
Mi chiamo Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra. Con la K, mi raccomando, non con la C. È st<strong>at</strong>a mia<br />
madre a decidere il mio nome, lei sola!<br />
Mia madre ama la Storia, la Grecia, ma sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto l’Egitto e l’antica Roma. È<br />
<strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>a della Storia, della l<strong>in</strong>gua, della cultura. A dire il vero, è <strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>a<br />
anche dei personaggi storici, anche se preferisce gli antichi romani agli egizi.<br />
[sorridendo tra sé e sé] Per «personaggi storici» <strong>in</strong>tendo gli uom<strong>in</strong>i… Sul serio,<br />
mia madre adora gli uom<strong>in</strong>i romani, ma non quelli di oggi, quelli di secoli fa.<br />
Dice che sono affasc<strong>in</strong>anti, [prosegue maliziosa] anche se non ne capisco il motivo,<br />
d<strong>at</strong>o che di loro ci restano solo st<strong>at</strong>ue e st<strong>at</strong>ue e st<strong>at</strong>ue e nient’altro; anche se<br />
avevano dei bei corpi, questo va detto. [si ferma un <strong>at</strong>timo come riflettendo, poi<br />
56
torna al pubblico e ricom<strong>in</strong>cia a parlare] Sì, non c’è dubbio, la passione di mia<br />
madre per la Storia antica ha segn<strong>at</strong>o tutta la mia vita, da prima che nascessi si<br />
può dire… Non ci crederete, ma si è <strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>a e ha spos<strong>at</strong>o mio padre, e mio<br />
padre si chiama Giulio Cesare. A volte credo che si sia <strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>a di mio padre<br />
per il suo nome. [quasi tra sé e sé] La cosa che mi è sempre sembr<strong>at</strong>a più strana, e<br />
anche un po’ <strong>in</strong>quietante, è che tra l’imper<strong>at</strong>ore Giulio Cesare e Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra ci fu<br />
una relazione amorosa, che si tradirono e f<strong>in</strong>ì anche abbastanza male. Ma questi<br />
sono solo dettagli per mia madre, [imitando la voce della madre] «notizie storiche<br />
di scarso valore». Per lei Giulio Cesare era un affasc<strong>in</strong>ante e <strong>in</strong>domito condottiero<br />
e Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra una donna forte, colta, sicura e bella. Per questo, credo, ha<br />
sempre am<strong>at</strong>o moltissimo mio padre e, f<strong>in</strong> da quando ero piccola, ha sempre desider<strong>at</strong>o<br />
che io diventassi una donna istruita e di molta esperienza. [imitando di<br />
nuovo la voce della madre] «Lei sarà il mio diamante», diceva ogni volta, quando<br />
con i suoi amici, <strong>in</strong> salotto, si com<strong>in</strong>ciava a parlare dei figli. Il suo diamante! È<br />
com<strong>in</strong>ci<strong>at</strong>o tutto così. Mia madre era conv<strong>in</strong>ta che Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra fosse una donna<br />
dalla cultura enciclopedica, e allora si è rimbocc<strong>at</strong>a le maniche per farmi essere<br />
all’altezza del mio nome [<strong>in</strong> crescendo di ritmo] mi trasc<strong>in</strong>ava <strong>in</strong> biblioteca almeno<br />
due volte la settimana, mi ha <strong>in</strong>segn<strong>at</strong>o addizioni e sottrazioni quando andavo<br />
ancora all’asilo, mi faceva leggere libri, scrivere racconti, visitare musei.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra resta un <strong>at</strong>timo sospesa, poi riprende ironica.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra: Ma Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra era anche una reg<strong>in</strong>a! E questo, per mia madre, significava<br />
che conosceva le buone maniere e sapeva sempre come comportarsi, e<br />
allora [mimando con gesti stilizz<strong>at</strong>i ciò che dice] le pos<strong>at</strong>e si usano così, la mano<br />
si tende così, a tavola si sta così, le spalle devono essere dritte, testa alta, camm<strong>in</strong>a<br />
più dritta, sii più femm<strong>in</strong>ile, se <strong>in</strong>contri un uomo lo saluti così, se <strong>in</strong>contri<br />
un anziano cosà, se passa un’altra ragazza fai questo, se passa un ragazzo<br />
quest’altro.<br />
Sul f<strong>in</strong>ire della b<strong>at</strong>tuta cambiano le luci e si apre il sipario. Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra resta <strong>in</strong> fermo<br />
immag<strong>in</strong>e nell’ultima posa assunta, spalle al pubblico, mano protesa come se aspettasse<br />
che il cavaliere del ballo la <strong>in</strong>vitasse.<br />
SCENA II<br />
All’apertura del sipario, la sedia sulla quale sta Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra diventa parte della scenografia.<br />
È la sedia di un tavolo da cuc<strong>in</strong>a. Siamo <strong>in</strong> una cuc<strong>in</strong>a modesta ma ord<strong>in</strong>a-<br />
57
ta: al centro, la tavola con qu<strong>at</strong>tro sedie di cui una è quella sulla quale sta seduta Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra.<br />
In scena lei e la madre, la quale sta riassettando, quarantac<strong>in</strong>que anni, ancora<br />
piacente e un po’ stravagante nell’abbigliamento, che comunque risulta elegante e<br />
cur<strong>at</strong>o. Il dialogo si ricongiunge con quanto stava raccontando Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra nella scena<br />
precedente.<br />
Mamma: Se <strong>in</strong>contri un extr<strong>at</strong>errestre, mi raccomando, sii gentile!<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [lamentosa, stanca, mentre <strong>in</strong>fila un cardigan ampio che era appoggi<strong>at</strong>o<br />
su un’altra sedia]: Oh mamma sei così ossession<strong>at</strong>a da tutto quello che riguarda<br />
la mia educazione che non ti accorgi che sto diventando m<strong>at</strong>ta!!! [più<br />
decisa] Ma non lo vedi che potrei andare a prendere il tè a Buck<strong>in</strong>gham Palace<br />
e far sfigurare la reg<strong>in</strong>a?<br />
Vibra un cellulare sulla tavola, Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra lo guarda e lo mette <strong>in</strong> tasca.<br />
Mamma: Oh che diam<strong>in</strong>e Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra, è maleducazione non rispondere al telefono.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [decisa e tagliente]: È molto più maleduc<strong>at</strong>o disturbare le persone <strong>in</strong>torno<br />
a te con una suoneria <strong>in</strong>sistente!<br />
Mamma: Ma… [poi <strong>in</strong>decisa si ammutolisce, prende un cesto di panni stir<strong>at</strong>i e mentre<br />
esce di scena dice fra sé e sé] Ah se solo la reg<strong>in</strong>a Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra avesse avuto un cellulare…<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra scuote la testa. Il telefono suona di nuovo e lei stavolta risponde.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra: Pronto? Sì, ciao Emma, scusa ma non avevo la suoneria… sì, come<br />
sempre, lo so, che c’è? …ma no, nulla, stavo discutendo con mia madre tanto<br />
per cambiare! Ma tu che ne pensi? Se fossimo n<strong>at</strong>e ai tempi della mamma<br />
saremmo st<strong>at</strong>e come loro? Sì, sì, certo che è car<strong>at</strong>tere, ma a volte me lo chiedo,<br />
a volte mi domando come sarebbe st<strong>at</strong>o se fossi n<strong>at</strong>a ai tempi di Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra…<br />
Oppure se fossi n<strong>at</strong>a negli anni di mia madre, gli anni C<strong>in</strong>quanta-Sessanta.<br />
Mi chiedo come sarei st<strong>at</strong>a di car<strong>at</strong>tere, o quali sarebbero st<strong>at</strong>i i miei genitori,<br />
quale sarebbe st<strong>at</strong>o l’amore della mia vita, d<strong>at</strong>o che <strong>in</strong> quegli anni ti sposavi<br />
giovanissima, oppure se avrei lavor<strong>at</strong>o e f<strong>at</strong>to cosa… Sì, sì, sto bene, è solo che<br />
è un po’ di tempo che sono <strong>in</strong>canta dagli anni C<strong>in</strong>quanta e Sessanta, dalla musica<br />
<strong>in</strong> particolare. Sono <strong>in</strong>cant<strong>at</strong>a dalle voci, sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto, perché è come se<br />
sentissi che dentro c’è la verità; forse mi sbaglio, o dovrei spiegarmi meglio,<br />
ma ogni volta che l’ascolto, quella musica tocca ogni angolo del mio corpo e<br />
diventa padrona di me… No non sto esagerando, davvero. È realmente così<br />
che mi sento, è come se la musica fosse un’amica, e può darsi che sia st<strong>at</strong>a crea-<br />
58
ta con scopi diversi da quelli che noi <strong>in</strong>tendiamo adesso, e questa creazione per<br />
fortuna non si è mai ferm<strong>at</strong>a e non si è mai dispersa e va avanti da secoli e secoli,<br />
coraggiosa e fiera, capace di unire come di separare, con il potere di rallegrare<br />
e di tormentare. [conclude <strong>in</strong> tono celebr<strong>at</strong>ivo] Oddio, sto diventando un’<strong>in</strong>vas<strong>at</strong>a<br />
come mia madre… Parlo della musica come lei parla della Storia…<br />
Non lo so, dev’essere una car<strong>at</strong>teristica delle donne della mia famiglia quella<br />
di lasciarsi sedurre e affasc<strong>in</strong>are da epoche pass<strong>at</strong>e. Spero solo di non chiamare<br />
mia figlia Aretha. Comunque… Cosa mi volevi dire?<br />
Sfumando, sale la musica di sottofondo mentre si spengono le luci: Aretha Frankl<strong>in</strong>, I<br />
Say a Little Prayer for You.<br />
SCENA III<br />
Si alzano le luci. La madre è <strong>in</strong> cuc<strong>in</strong>a che prepara un tè.<br />
Mamma [urlando]: Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra… Scendi che sono le c<strong>in</strong>que ed è pronto il tè! [breve<br />
pausa, riprende più <strong>in</strong>sistente] Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra quante volte te lo devo dire che non<br />
si fanno <strong>at</strong>tendere le persone? Se lo fai con me lo potresti fare anche…<br />
Si <strong>in</strong>terrompe perché entra Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra <strong>in</strong> tuta da g<strong>in</strong>nastica o pigiama camm<strong>in</strong>ando<br />
come uno zombie e la abbraccia scoppiando a piangere.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [s<strong>in</strong>ghiozzando]: Mamma, io non voglio più fare l’archeologa o l’antropologa<br />
come ho sempre sogn<strong>at</strong>o, è un po’ che ci penso e ho capito che non<br />
è la mia strada.<br />
La mamma, dopo un <strong>at</strong>timo di shock, <strong>in</strong>izia a s<strong>in</strong>ghiozzare molto più forte di Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra<br />
e le due si abbracciano <strong>in</strong> un quadretto che ha del melodramm<strong>at</strong>ico.<br />
Mamma [si riprende e s<strong>in</strong>ghiozzando lievemente]: Oh piccola mia, con la mia ossessione<br />
ho rischi<strong>at</strong>o di farti diventare m<strong>at</strong>ta.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra: Sì, sono d’accordo… E ora che faccio?<br />
Mamma: Intanto siediti.<br />
Mentre Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra si siede, la madre versa due tazze di tè. Poi si siede a sua volta e sorridendo.<br />
59
Mamma: Cosa pensi che avrebbe f<strong>at</strong>to la reg<strong>in</strong>a, per risolvere i suoi problemi?<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [parlando tra sé]: Ma che cazzo ne so! [si gira verso la madre e gentilmente<br />
le dice] Non lo so mamma, dimmelo tu!<br />
Mamma [serena e accomodante]: Io credo che se la Reg<strong>in</strong>a si fosse sentita <strong>in</strong>soddisf<strong>at</strong>ta<br />
di tutto ciò che aveva e di tutto ciò che conosceva sarebbe sicuramente<br />
and<strong>at</strong>a a cercare qualcosa di nuovo!<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [tra sé]: Ah, a questo non avevo proprio pens<strong>at</strong>o…<br />
SCENA IV<br />
La mamma è <strong>in</strong> scena, cont<strong>in</strong>ua ad affacciarsi nelle qu<strong>in</strong>te, sembra essere <strong>in</strong> <strong>at</strong>tesa di<br />
qualcosa. Suonano alla porta, lei esce e rientra portando una valigia, seguita da Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra<br />
vestita <strong>in</strong> maniera semplice, jeans e maglietta.<br />
Mamma: Oh tesoro, sono le c<strong>in</strong>que pass<strong>at</strong>e, hai già bevuto il tè? Te lo servo, tu<br />
siediti e raccontami tutto!<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [seduta sulla sedia dell’<strong>in</strong>izio]: Mamma sono st<strong>at</strong>a via c<strong>in</strong>que mesi, direi<br />
che il tè può aspettare.<br />
La mamma, come se non l’avesse sentita, riempie due tazze e si siede.<br />
Mamma: Su su, siediti e raccontami.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [<strong>in</strong>izia a parlare svogli<strong>at</strong>a, fissando la tazza]: Sono st<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> Francia:<br />
shopp<strong>in</strong>g. Sono st<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> Inghilterra: discoteche. In Spagna: concerti. In India:<br />
centri benessere. E ora sono torn<strong>at</strong>a a casa, con le idee ancora più confuse di<br />
prima: mamma, cosa avrebbe f<strong>at</strong>to Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra?<br />
La mamma sorseggia il tè. Dopo qualche secondo di silenzio, Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra <strong>in</strong>izia a sfogliare<br />
il giornale che è sul tavolo.<br />
Mamma: Tesoro, lo sai che è maleducazione leggere a tavola.<br />
Ma Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra non l’ascolta neppure, d’un tr<strong>at</strong>to sc<strong>at</strong>ta <strong>in</strong> piedi e legge a voce alta.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [con voce solenne]: Senti mamma «Diventa un <strong>at</strong>tore subito».<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra <strong>in</strong>izia a sfilarsi jeans e maglietta e dalla valigia prende la gonna e la camicetta<br />
dell’<strong>in</strong>izio, mentre si veste parla concit<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
60
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra: Ti rendi conto? Diventare un’<strong>at</strong>trice famosa, andare a New York, recitare<br />
con Johnny Depp… [tra sé girandosi a pubblico] altro che Giulio Cesare!<br />
Riparte la musica di Aretha che accompagna la chiusura del sipario, mentre sta abbottonando<br />
la camicia. Si chiude il sipario e Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra si trova sul proscenio.<br />
SCENA V<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra è sul proscenio con l’occhio di bue punt<strong>at</strong>o come all’<strong>in</strong>izio.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra: Ecco come sono arriv<strong>at</strong>a qui. E mentre venivo, già pensavo che avrei<br />
<strong>in</strong>contr<strong>at</strong>o qualche <strong>at</strong>tore famoso a cui chiedere un autografo. Poi sono arriv<strong>at</strong>a,<br />
ma mi sembra tutto diverso da come me lo aspettavo: lì fuori ci sono un<br />
sacco di ragazzi come me; la segretaria ci ha spieg<strong>at</strong>o qualcosa, ma io non ho ascolt<strong>at</strong>o<br />
tutto, perché non vedevo l’ora di andare a fare le prove, e, <strong>in</strong>vece, ora<br />
vi devo parlare di me…<br />
Pensavo che avrei risposto che voglio fare l’<strong>at</strong>trice per la fama e per conoscere<br />
personaggi famosi, e <strong>in</strong>vece… vi ho raccont<strong>at</strong>o di mia madre… Però, mentre<br />
parlavo, ho capito una cosa [si alza ed <strong>in</strong>izia a camm<strong>in</strong>are sul proscenio]: sono<br />
orgogliosa di chi sono e del nome che porto. Sono sicura che questa sia la mia<br />
strada, sono anche sicura che se Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra fosse n<strong>at</strong>a nel 1990 avrebbe f<strong>at</strong>to<br />
l’<strong>at</strong>trice e sarebbe st<strong>at</strong>a pure molto brava! Già lo era ai suoi tempi. R<strong>in</strong>grazio<br />
mia madre per il nome che mi ha d<strong>at</strong>o e per tutto quello che ha signific<strong>at</strong>o, ma<br />
adesso è ora di chiudere il libro di Storia. Non avrei mai immag<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o di arrivare<br />
qui, così lontana dal futuro che m’immag<strong>in</strong>avo da bamb<strong>in</strong>a, ma alla f<strong>in</strong>e, io<br />
sono solo io. E allora: «Addio Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra con la C! E benvenuta Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra…<br />
con la K!».<br />
Inch<strong>in</strong>o. Buio.<br />
61
62<br />
Personaggi<br />
Partita di calcio<br />
Aziza: ha qu<strong>in</strong>dici anni ed è marocch<strong>in</strong>a<br />
Stefano: ha diciassette anni ed è italiano<br />
Signore anziano: è il Tempo<br />
Il giorno: bamb<strong>in</strong>o sui sei anni vestito di giallo con un sole fra i capelli<br />
La notte: bamb<strong>in</strong>a sui sei anni vestita di blu scuro con la luna fra i capelli<br />
Methab: amico di Aziza, sui sedici anni, pakistano<br />
Garik: amico di Aziza, sui qu<strong>at</strong>tordici anni, ucra<strong>in</strong>o<br />
David: amico di Aziza, sui sedici anni, kosovaro<br />
Ardit: amico di Aziza, sui sedici anni, albanese<br />
Mariem: amica di Aziza, sui qu<strong>in</strong>dici anni, pakistana<br />
Elisa: amica di Stefano, sui qu<strong>in</strong>dici anni, italiana<br />
Roberto: amico di Stefano, sui diciassette anni, italiano<br />
Giulio: amico di Stefano, sui diciassette anni, italiano<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong>a: amica di Stefano, sui sedici anni, italiana<br />
Filippo: amico di Stefano, sui sedici anni, italiano
SCENA I<br />
Sul palcoscenico ci sono tre panch<strong>in</strong>e sistem<strong>at</strong>e a semicerchio. Due sono vic<strong>in</strong>e, poi c’è<br />
un cest<strong>in</strong>o per i rifiuti e un lampione e la terza. La scena rappresenta un classico giard<strong>in</strong>etto<br />
cittad<strong>in</strong>o un po’ periferico.<br />
Sulla panch<strong>in</strong>a di s<strong>in</strong>istra sono seduti Aziza e i suoi amici; Ardit ha <strong>in</strong> mano un pallone<br />
da calcio. Vic<strong>in</strong>o a loro c’è una radio. Sulla panch<strong>in</strong>a opposta c’è il gruppo di Stefano.<br />
I due gruppi sono <strong>in</strong> fermo immag<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Sulla panch<strong>in</strong>a centrale è seduto un signore anziano vestito di chiaro. Ha un’espressione<br />
serena e sfoglia un giornale. Vic<strong>in</strong>o a lui, per terra, i due bamb<strong>in</strong>i giocano con<br />
un enorme mappamondo e <strong>in</strong>tanto canticchiano Girotondo di Fabrizio De André:<br />
Se verrà la guerra, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
se verrà la guerra, Marcondiro’ndà<br />
sul mare e sulla terra, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
sul mare e sulla terra chi ci salverà?<br />
Ci salverà il sold<strong>at</strong>o che non la vorrà<br />
ci salverà il sold<strong>at</strong>o che la guerra rifiuterà.<br />
La guerra è già scoppi<strong>at</strong>a, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
la guerra è già scoppi<strong>at</strong>a, chi ci aiuterà.<br />
Ci aiuterà il buon Dio, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
ci aiuterà il buon Dio, lui ci salverà.<br />
Buon Dio è già scapp<strong>at</strong>o, dove non si sa<br />
buon Dio se n’è and<strong>at</strong>o, chissà quando ritornerà.<br />
L’aeroplano vola, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
l’aeroplano vola, Marcondiro’ndà.<br />
Se getterà la bomba, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
se getterà la bomba chi ci salverà?<br />
Ci salva l’avi<strong>at</strong>ore che non lo farà<br />
ci salva l’avi<strong>at</strong>ore che la bomba non getterà.<br />
La bomba è già caduta, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
la bomba è già caduta, chi la prenderà?<br />
La prenderanno tutti, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
siam belli o siam brutti, Marcondiro’ndà<br />
Siam grandi o siam picc<strong>in</strong>i li distruggerà<br />
siam furbi o siam cret<strong>in</strong>i li fulm<strong>in</strong>erà.<br />
Ci sono troppe buche, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
ci sono troppe buche, chi le riempirà?<br />
Non potremo più giocare al Marcondiro’ndera<br />
63
non potremo più giocare al Marcondiro’ndà.<br />
E voi a divertirvi and<strong>at</strong>e un po’ più <strong>in</strong> là<br />
and<strong>at</strong>e a divertirvi dove la guerra non ci sarà.<br />
La guerra è dappertutto, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
la terra è tutta un lutto, chi la consolerà?<br />
Ci penseranno gli uom<strong>in</strong>i, le bestie i fiori<br />
i boschi e le stagioni con i mille colori.<br />
Di gente, bestie e fiori no, non ce n’è più<br />
viventi siam rimasti noi e nulla più.<br />
La terra è tutta nostra, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
ne faremo una gran giostra, Marcondiro’ndà.<br />
Abbiam tutta la terra Marcondiro’ndera<br />
giocheremo a far la guerra, Marcondiro’ndà…<br />
Alla f<strong>in</strong>e della canzone il mappamondo scivola <strong>in</strong> qu<strong>in</strong>ta e i due bamb<strong>in</strong>i ridendo lo<br />
<strong>in</strong>seguono ed escono.<br />
Cambio luce. I due gruppi di ragazzi si animano. Aziza e i suoi amici <strong>in</strong>iziano a<br />
chiacchierare. Ardit palleggia, si unisce a lui anche David. Dalla radio si sente musica<br />
rock. Anche il gruppo di Stefano si anima. Parlano a voce alta e ogni tanto lanciano<br />
occhi<strong>at</strong>e al gruppo opposto, poi ridono. Il vecchio signore cont<strong>in</strong>ua a leggere il giornale.<br />
A un certo punto Stefano si dirige verso Aziza; ogni tanto si gira a guardare gli<br />
amici e ridacchia. I ragazzi stranieri lo guardano sospettosi.<br />
Aziza [rivolgendosi agli amici]: Ma questo che vuole? Cos’ha da ridere?<br />
Gli amici maschi di Aziza sono tesi come pronti a uno scontro. Mariem dice qualcosa<br />
nell’orecchio di Aziza. Stefano si ferma davanti al gruppo, <strong>in</strong> posa da bullo, e guarda<br />
fisso Aziza.<br />
Aziza [a Stefano, con voce provoc<strong>at</strong>oria, ma si sente che è <strong>in</strong> imbarazzo]: Allora, che<br />
vuoi? Sono forse sporca <strong>in</strong> faccia?<br />
Stefano cont<strong>in</strong>ua a guardarla, poi si gira verso gli amici e ridacchia. Il signore anziano<br />
smette di leggere il giornale e guarda i ragazzi.<br />
Signore anziano [parlottando tra sé]: Sempre uguali, altezzosi e pieni di sé, impareranno<br />
mai? Sono stanco di vedere sempre le stesse scene… [poi riprende il giornale<br />
canticchiando] Marcondiro’ndero / se ci sarà la guerra Marcondiro’ndà…<br />
Aziza [a Stefano, arrabbi<strong>at</strong>a]: Perché ridi? E perché cont<strong>in</strong>ui a fissarmi?<br />
64
Stefano [prendendola <strong>in</strong> giro e facendole il verso]: Cos’hai da ridere? Cos’hai da ridere?<br />
Cos’hai da ridere?<br />
Si sentono le ris<strong>at</strong>e degli amici di Stefano. Methab fa per alzarsi ir<strong>at</strong>o, ma Mariem<br />
lo ferma. David e Ardit si mettono <strong>in</strong> posa difensiva vic<strong>in</strong>o ad Aziza, mentre Garik<br />
com<strong>in</strong>cia ad avere paura.<br />
Stefano [ignorando gli amici di Aziza]: Come fa una come te a stare con dei tipi<br />
così! Tu dovresti stare <strong>in</strong>sieme a noi [<strong>in</strong>dicando di sfuggita il suo gruppo] e non<br />
con questi… [guarda gli amici di Aziza con boria] Sfig<strong>at</strong>i!<br />
Via musica.<br />
Methab: Che hai detto?<br />
Mariem [ancora tr<strong>at</strong>tenendolo, sottovoce]: Dài, lascia perdere, sennò f<strong>in</strong>isce male…<br />
Stefano: F<strong>in</strong>isce male, sì!<br />
I suoi amici adesso sono <strong>in</strong> piedi pronti a <strong>in</strong>tervenire.<br />
David: Lasciaci <strong>in</strong> pace e v<strong>at</strong>tene!<br />
Ardit [urlando all’altro gruppo]: Che avete a guardare? Volete qualcosa?<br />
Roberto e Giulio [fissando Garik con tono melenso assolutamente falso]: Ciao Garik,<br />
dov’eri oggi all’uscita della scuola? Ti abbiamo cerc<strong>at</strong>o tanto… Volevamo<br />
salutarti… Ti siamo manc<strong>at</strong>i?<br />
Garik sta quasi per piangere, Ardit si avvic<strong>in</strong>a a lui.<br />
Ardit: Tranquillo, ci siamo noi, non ti fanno niente… Ci siamo noi.<br />
Garik [sottovoce]: Sì, ci siete voi. Ma domani? Ti prego Ardit, di’ a Methab di<br />
non provocarli… Per favore.<br />
Il signore anziano ha ascolt<strong>at</strong>o l’ultima parte della conversazione.<br />
Signore anziano: Anche questo non cambia mai i più giovani, i più piccoli soffrono<br />
sempre più degli altri. Ci dev’essere per forza qualcosa di sbagli<strong>at</strong>o nella<br />
mente degli uom<strong>in</strong>i. Sì, ci deve essere un grosso sbaglio da qualche parte.<br />
Stefano [rivolto al gruppo]: Buoni, buoni, non siamo qui per fare cas<strong>in</strong>o. Voglio<br />
solo parlare con lei [<strong>in</strong>dica con il mento Aziza].<br />
Mariem: Lei ha un nome! Si chiama Aziza e mi sa che non vuole parlare con te!<br />
65
Gli amici di Aziza sogghignano. Aziza <strong>in</strong>vece è come pietrific<strong>at</strong>a e cont<strong>in</strong>ua a fissare<br />
Stefano.<br />
Stefano: Va bene, va bene. Voglio parlare con Aziza. Posso parlarti?<br />
Aziza [quasi vergognandosi]: Sì…<br />
Stefano: Allora ecco, ti ho not<strong>at</strong>a e, ecco, mi chiedo perché una ragazza come te<br />
sta con gente così, che crea problemi e fa solo cas<strong>in</strong>i… Tu dovresti stare con<br />
noi! Non sei mica come loro!<br />
Sulle <strong>parole</strong> di Stefano cresce il silenzio e il disagio del gruppo di Aziza.<br />
Aziza [timida, quasi sconcert<strong>at</strong>a]: Ma anch’io sono straniera… Io, anche se sono<br />
anche italiana, cioè, volevo dire, io sono arriv<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> Italia che ero piccola, avevo<br />
sei anni e non mi ricordo quasi nulla del mio Paese. Però non sono nemmeno<br />
italiana perché non sono n<strong>at</strong>a qui e poi…<br />
Methab [<strong>in</strong>terrompendola]: Ma che stai dicendo? Ti giustifichi con questo? O<br />
pensi che sarebbe più facile mollarci e andare con lui? Cos’è, adesso pensi di<br />
essere come un’italiana solo perché un tizio ti si fila?<br />
Mariem [prendendo Methab per un braccio]: Ora smettila, certo che Aziza non ci<br />
lascerebbe mai… [ad Aziza] Vero?<br />
Signore anziano: E loro, i piccoli, come dei pesciol<strong>in</strong>i <strong>in</strong> una rete si div<strong>in</strong>colano<br />
e si agitano tentando di scappare dai pregiudizi, dall’ignoranza, dagli stereotipi.<br />
Pesciol<strong>in</strong>i che si dimenano e si <strong>in</strong>trappolano sempre di più…<br />
Aziza [rivolta a Stefano]: Lasciami perdere! Lasciaci perdere tutti.<br />
Stefano fa una ris<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>a e si gira per andarsene.<br />
Stefano: Ciao sfig<strong>at</strong>i!<br />
Stefano esce di scena, seguito dai suoi amici.<br />
David [dando una pacca sulla schiena di Garik]: Puoi respirare ora…<br />
Methab: Cosa non darei per prenderli a pugni…<br />
Ardit [cupo]: Già!<br />
Mariem: Methab, falla f<strong>in</strong>ita!<br />
Methab [abbracciando e baciando Mariem]: Sì, sì…<br />
Garik [timido]: Io dovrei andare a casa…<br />
David: Tranquillo, io e Ardit veniamo con te. Methab, Mariem venite anche voi?<br />
Mariem [guardando Aziza]: Ragazzi voi and<strong>at</strong>e, noi restiamo ancora un po’.<br />
66
Methab: Ma…<br />
Mariem: Chiacchiere tra donne!<br />
I ragazzi si alzano e escono di scena.<br />
Mariem: Allora?<br />
Aziza: Niente!<br />
Mariem: Dimmi che hai!<br />
Aziza [alzandosi e parlando a raffica, nervosa e agit<strong>at</strong>a]: Non lo sopporto, va bene?<br />
È borioso, prepotente e lo prenderei a schiaffi! Lo odio! Però, poi, mi sento una<br />
cret<strong>in</strong>a perché mi piace. Potevo dire un sacco di cose e <strong>in</strong>vece sono rimasta<br />
lì come una bambola a farmi <strong>in</strong>sultare.<br />
Mariem: Calm<strong>at</strong>i ora. E poi è vero, è uno stronzo ma è davvero bello!<br />
Aziza [ridendo]: Ma hai visto, quando se n’and<strong>at</strong>o, che bel…<br />
Mariem [<strong>in</strong>terrompendo]: Paio d’occhi?!?<br />
Aziza: Sì, begli occhi! [tornando seria] Ma che stiamo dicendo? È un italiano, bullo<br />
e strafottente. Ma come fa a piacermi? Hai f<strong>at</strong>to bene te a metterti con Methab,<br />
almeno vi capite… Ma io!<br />
Mariem: Per te è più difficile. Tu sei italiana e sei anche marocch<strong>in</strong>a…<br />
Aziza: O forse non sono nessuno dei due. Non sono nulla…<br />
Signore anziano: Pesciol<strong>in</strong>i nella rete… Si dib<strong>at</strong>tono e cercano la libertà. Sentono<br />
il mare <strong>in</strong>f<strong>in</strong>ito <strong>in</strong>torno a loro, ma la rete non cede, anzi si str<strong>in</strong>ge. Pesciol<strong>in</strong>i<br />
nella rete… Eppure sarebbe così facile… Ma no! Da secoli e secoli i pesci<br />
restano <strong>in</strong>trappol<strong>at</strong>i nella rete. Pochi riescono a liberarsi.<br />
Mariem: Dài, è tardi, andiamo a casa.<br />
Aziza: Ok.<br />
Le due ragazze escono di scena.<br />
SCENA II<br />
Stesso giard<strong>in</strong>etto con le panch<strong>in</strong>e. Il vecchio signore è ancora seduto al suo posto, tra<br />
le braccia ha il bamb<strong>in</strong>o vestito di giallo che si sta addormentando.<br />
Signore anziano: Su su, è tardi, per te è ora di riposo, va’ a coricarti piccolo Giorno<br />
e chiama tua sorella, è la sua ora.<br />
Giorno, il bimbo <strong>in</strong> giallo, esce di scena sfregandosi gli occhietti, mentre Notte, la<br />
bimba <strong>in</strong> blu, entra saltellando.<br />
67
Signore anziano: Ciao Notte, benvenuta…<br />
Notte corre <strong>in</strong> braccio al signore anziano.<br />
Notte: Ciao Tempo.<br />
Durante questo breve scambio le luci si sono abbass<strong>at</strong>e a creare un notturno. D’improvviso<br />
entra <strong>in</strong> scena Garik trafel<strong>at</strong>o e subito dopo Stefano, Giulio, Filippo e Roberto<br />
che lo mettono <strong>in</strong> mezzo, lo sp<strong>in</strong>tonano, deridendolo e <strong>in</strong>sultandolo.<br />
Giulio: Non è tardi per un moccioso come te…?<br />
Filippo: Dovresti essere a casa con mamm<strong>in</strong>a…<br />
Roberto: Perché la notte si fanno brutti <strong>in</strong>contri… non te l’ha detto nessuno?<br />
Notte si str<strong>in</strong>ge al signore anziano, spavent<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Signore anziano [uscendo di scena con Notte <strong>in</strong> braccio]: Ho visto troppe volte<br />
questa c<strong>at</strong>tiveria…<br />
Sull’uscita del signore anziano parte la musica ad altissimo volume. Intanto i bulli<br />
sfottono Garik; gli hanno preso il suo za<strong>in</strong>o e se lo lanciano l’un l’altro, mentre Garik<br />
cerca di afferrarlo. Entrano <strong>in</strong> scena Aziza e David. Come vedono la scena corrono<br />
verso il gruppo. David, che è abbastanza grosso, riesce a prendere lo za<strong>in</strong>o e lo rende<br />
a Garik, poi fronteggia i bulli.<br />
La musica si abbassa. David e Giulio stanno per venire alle mani, ma vengono ferm<strong>at</strong>i<br />
dalla voce di Aziza.<br />
Aziza [urlando]: Smettetela! Smettetela tutti! Perché f<strong>at</strong>e così? Cosa vi abbiamo<br />
f<strong>at</strong>to di male noi? Cont<strong>in</strong>u<strong>at</strong>e a umiliarci, a deriderci, ma perché? Solo perché<br />
siamo stranieri? E che vuol dire? E poi scommetto che la metà di voi non sa<br />
neppure da che Paese veniamo, e se lo sa, di sicuro non saprebbe trovarlo sul<br />
mappamondo. Siete solo degli ignoranti e prepotenti! [rivolta a Stefano] Tu,<br />
sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto, mi parli, mi sorridi e poi <strong>in</strong>sulti i miei amici! Ma chi ti credi di essere!?<br />
E io ho anche pens<strong>at</strong>o che potevamo essere amici, che stupida eh?<br />
Tutti restano un <strong>at</strong>timo <strong>at</strong>toniti per lo sfogo di Aziza, Stefano sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto la guarda<br />
fisso come se com<strong>in</strong>ciasse a capire il punto di vista di lei. Poi gli amici tornano a fare<br />
i bulli.<br />
68
Filippo [ridacchiando]: Come se ce ne fregasse qualcosa di dove siete n<strong>at</strong>i…<br />
Giulio: E brava la nostra araba, guarda guarda com’è focosa! Te le ha cant<strong>at</strong>e eh?<br />
Roberto [tirando Stefano per un braccio]: Forza andiamo, il divertimento è f<strong>in</strong>ito!!!<br />
Pep<strong>at</strong>a la ragazza, però!<br />
Stefano [liberandosi dalla stretta di Roberto e riprendendo l’aria da bullo per non<br />
sfigurare davanti agli amici]: Vuoi sapere perché lo facciamo? Perché è divertente<br />
vedere che tutti hanno paura di noi, che si nascondono come topi quando<br />
ci vedono… ma tanto li becchiamo sempre…<br />
Rientra il vecchio signore e torna a sedersi sulla panch<strong>in</strong>a. I ragazzi restano <strong>in</strong> stop.<br />
Signore anziano: È proprio vero, li beccano sempre. Qualcuno becca sempre<br />
qualcun altro. Dall’<strong>in</strong>izio dell’Uomo, c’è sempre qualcuno che cerca, <strong>in</strong>segue,<br />
perseguita e uccide l’altro diverso da sé. Bianchi contro neri. Neri contro bianchi.<br />
Gialli contro bianchi. Bianchi contro rossi. Tailleur contro caffettani, sari<br />
contro tuniche, perizoma contro arm<strong>at</strong>ure, cappotti contro kippah, kefiah<br />
contro jeans. E li beccano sempre, non importa chi becca chi…<br />
Aziza: Hai detto che è divertente? Divertente???<br />
Stefano: Sì, divertente, e allora?<br />
Aziza sta per rib<strong>at</strong>tere, ma David la prende per mano.<br />
David: Forza, andiamo via, non ne vale la pena.<br />
I tre stanno uscendo, seguiti dalle ris<strong>at</strong>e dei bulli.<br />
Giulio: Bravi scapp<strong>at</strong>e!<br />
Poco prima di uscire <strong>in</strong> qu<strong>in</strong>ta, Aziza si gira e torna di corsa davanti a Stefano.<br />
Aziza [calma e determ<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>a]: Va bene, facciamo un p<strong>at</strong>to. Una partita di calcio!<br />
Se v<strong>in</strong>ciamo noi, ci lascerete <strong>in</strong> pace e non ci darete più fastidio, se v<strong>in</strong>cete voi<br />
io lascio il mio gruppo e vengo con voi! Domani qui alle tre. Accetti?<br />
Stefano [un po’ sconcert<strong>at</strong>o]: Va bene, facciamo la partita! [poi riprendendo il solito<br />
tono] Occhio a non farti male!<br />
Tutti i ragazzi escono di scena. Rientra di corsa Notte, che va di nuovo <strong>in</strong> braccio al<br />
vecchio signore.<br />
69
Signore anziano [parlando alla bamb<strong>in</strong>a]: Questa non me l’aspettavo, e brava<br />
la nostra Aziza, una partita di calcio! [ridacchia tra sé] Beh, sempre meglio di una<br />
guerra, no piccola? Una partita di calcio e <strong>in</strong> palio c’è il rispetto, vuoi vedere<br />
che questi ragazzi sono più svegli di quello che immag<strong>in</strong>avo? Aziza è st<strong>at</strong>a<br />
coraggiosa. E Stefano, belloccio e così imm<strong>at</strong>uro. Ma a lei piace. E a lui piace<br />
lei. Difficile essere ragazzi, difficile <strong>in</strong>namorarsi, difficile se sei anche un pesciol<strong>in</strong>o<br />
nella rete. Chissà, Notte, chissà chi v<strong>in</strong>cerà? Chissà se… ma tu guarda<br />
se un gruppo di ragazz<strong>in</strong>i doveva farmi tornare curioso, io che ho visto millenni<br />
di sbagli sempre uguali… eppure… dài, Notte, secondo te chi v<strong>in</strong>cerà?<br />
[ma Notte si è addorment<strong>at</strong>a] Andiamo piccola…<br />
Il vecchio signore esce portando fuori Notte, <strong>in</strong>tanto rientra Giorno, che <strong>at</strong>traversa il<br />
palco correndo e ballando. La luce sale al suo passaggio.<br />
SCENA III<br />
I ragazzi entrano <strong>in</strong> fila, sono <strong>in</strong> pantalonc<strong>in</strong>i e maglietta, pronti alla partita. Si<br />
schierano sul palco, ognuno fronteggia l’altro.<br />
Elisa [a Mariem]: Ciao araba! Sei pronta a perdere?<br />
Mariem la ignora e sorride a Methab.<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong>a [ad Aziza, sottovoce]: Credi di conquistarlo così?<br />
Aziza: Conquistare chi?<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong>a: Non fare la f<strong>in</strong>ta tonta, si vede lontano un miglio che ti piace Stefano!<br />
Aziza [arrossendo]: E come no!<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong>a: Ma che credi che lui starebbe con una come te? Si diverte e basta, fid<strong>at</strong>i!<br />
Mariem [<strong>in</strong>tervenendo perché Aziza c’è rimasta male]: Fidarsi di te? E da quando<br />
sei la sua migliore amica?<br />
Giulio: St<strong>at</strong>e zitte voi, allora si com<strong>in</strong>cia?<br />
Filippo: Vi facciamo neri? [poi ride della b<strong>at</strong>tuta]<br />
Ardit: Cosa non darei per avere Ibrahimovic qui…<br />
Garik: Ma è serbo e tu albanese!!!<br />
Ardit: E chi se ne frega, lui è bravo!<br />
Methab: Anche Zidane sarebbe utile… un altro immigr<strong>at</strong>o, no?<br />
David: Dài, f<strong>at</strong>ela f<strong>in</strong>ita, concentriamoci!<br />
Roberto: Allora marmocchi avete f<strong>in</strong>ito di bl<strong>at</strong>erare?<br />
70
Rientra il vecchio signore, si posiziona nel centro del palco e suona l’<strong>in</strong>izio della partita.<br />
Parte una musica ad alto volume, i ragazzi simulano un’azione senza palla e a rallent<strong>at</strong>ore.<br />
Giulio <strong>at</strong>terra con uno sp<strong>in</strong>tone David. Mart<strong>in</strong>a blocca Aziza, mentre Elisa<br />
si occupa di Mariem. Roberto sta per urtare Ardit che però lo scavalca. Garik tiene<br />
occup<strong>at</strong>o Filippo, mentre Stefano sp<strong>in</strong>tona Methab. Ardit calcia verso Methab,<br />
chiamandolo. Methab si libera da Stefano e giunge davanti al pallone che il vecchio signore<br />
ha posizion<strong>at</strong>o a terra. Calcia e segna. I ragazzi restano tutti un <strong>at</strong>timo immobili.<br />
Il vecchio signore fischia e i ragazzi stranieri esultano, mentre la musica sfuma.<br />
Aziza [andando di fronte a Stefano]: Adesso dovete mantenere la promessa!<br />
Stefano [guardando di sfuggita i suoi amici, esitante]: Sì.<br />
Stefano e i suoi escono di scena senza una parola. Aziza e i suoi amici si complimentano<br />
a vicenda e ridendo escono di scena. Il vecchio signore prova due palleggi, ma la palla<br />
cade via e lui, con un’alz<strong>at</strong>a di spalle, torna a sedersi. Dopo qualche <strong>at</strong>timo uno za<strong>in</strong>o<br />
vola <strong>in</strong> scena e subito dopo entra Mariem seguita da Elisa e Mart<strong>in</strong>a che la sp<strong>in</strong>tonano.<br />
Mariem: Vi ho detto di lasciarmi <strong>in</strong> pace!<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong>a: Pensavi davvero che una stupida partita avrebbe cambi<strong>at</strong>o le cose?<br />
Mariem: Ma l’avev<strong>at</strong>e promesso!<br />
Elisa: E allora? [e dà a Mariem una sp<strong>in</strong>ta così forte che la fa cadere]<br />
Entrano <strong>in</strong> scena David e Garik. Sulla loro entr<strong>at</strong>a risale la musica, la stessa della partita<br />
di calcio. David prende per un braccio Elisa e l’allontana da Mariem, <strong>in</strong>tanto entrano<br />
Giulio e Roberto. Giulio da uno sp<strong>in</strong>tone a David, Garik corre da Mariem, mentre<br />
Elisa e Mart<strong>in</strong>a vanno da Roberto. David reagisce e i due f<strong>in</strong>iscono a terra avv<strong>in</strong>ghi<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
Entra Stefano che resta <strong>at</strong>tonito a fissare la scena. Subito dopo entra Aziza.<br />
Aziza [dopo un <strong>at</strong>timo di sconcerto, vedendo Stefano lì fermo a guardare]: Verme!<br />
Bugiardo! Codardo! Avevi promesso! Sei un bugiardo e mi fai schifo! Avevi<br />
promesso, avevi promesso [Aziza è così arrabbi<strong>at</strong>a che sta per piangere].<br />
Stefano la guarda ma non le risponde, poi però afferra Giulio per le spalle e lo separa<br />
da David che resta a terra ansimante.<br />
Stefano [con un tono cupo]: Forza andiamo, sono solo degli sfig<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
Stefano e i suoi vanno alla loro panch<strong>in</strong>a. Aziza aiuta David ad alzarsi, poi con Mariem<br />
e Garik vanno sulla panch<strong>in</strong>a. Entrambi i gruppi restano <strong>in</strong> silenzio.<br />
71
Signore anziano [canticchiando]: Se verrà la guerra, Marcondiro’ndero / se verrà<br />
la guerra, Marcondiro’ndà / sul mare e sulla terra, Marcondiro’ndera / sul mare<br />
e sulla terra chi ci salverà? / Ci salverà il sold<strong>at</strong>o che non la vorrà / ci salverà il<br />
sold<strong>at</strong>o che la guerra rifiuterà… [tra sé e sé, guardando Stefano] Ci avevo quasi<br />
sper<strong>at</strong>o…<br />
Dopo qualche <strong>at</strong>timo di silenzio, gli amici di Stefano salutano ed escono di scena. Stefano<br />
resta solo sulla panch<strong>in</strong>a. Sta riflettendo. Ogni tanto Aziza lo guarda, poi fa f<strong>in</strong>ta<br />
di nulla e chiacchiera con i suoi amici. Stefano si alza e va deciso verso Aziza.<br />
Stefano: Mi dispiace. Scusami. Scus<strong>at</strong>emi tutti. Non ho f<strong>at</strong>to nulla per mantenere<br />
la promessa. [guardando Aziza] Ma io non sono così, credimi. Lascio io il<br />
mio gruppo, non voglio essere come loro.<br />
Tutti guardano Stefano strabili<strong>at</strong>i. Ardit accenna quasi un sorriso. Sono tutti silenziosi.<br />
Mariem da una piccola gomit<strong>at</strong>a ad Aziza perché dica qualcosa.<br />
Aziza: Va bene, scuse accett<strong>at</strong>e. [poi con un tono glaciale] E ora scompari dalla mia<br />
vista.<br />
Mariem: Ma Aziza…<br />
Stefano: Ma ti ho spieg<strong>at</strong>o, mi sono scus<strong>at</strong>o, io…<br />
Aziza: Va’ via.<br />
Stefano si gira e lentamente esce.<br />
Aziza [rivolta ai suoi amici]: Non dite una parola [poi si alza ed esce di scena].<br />
David: Io non ho capito bene…<br />
Mariem: Per forza sei un maschio!<br />
Methab: E allora? Quel bullo non penserà mica che bast<strong>in</strong>o due scusette per risolvere<br />
tutto.<br />
Garik: Ma ad Aziza piace Stefano, vero?<br />
Mariem: Sì, e tanto.<br />
Methab: Ma se è un verme!<br />
Ardit: Magari era s<strong>in</strong>cero.<br />
Methab: E come no…<br />
Mariem: Lascia perdere, forza. È ora di andare a casa.<br />
David: Io cont<strong>in</strong>uo a non capire…<br />
Ardit: Sarà per le botte che ti sei preso…<br />
72
I ragazzi escono di scena.<br />
Signore anziano: Ci salverà il sold<strong>at</strong>o che la guerra rifiuterà… staremo a vedere…<br />
Stefano e Aziza. Forse sono l’<strong>in</strong>izio della pace… Ma dov’è f<strong>in</strong>ita Notte?<br />
[chiamando] NOTTE!!!<br />
La bamb<strong>in</strong>a entra <strong>in</strong> scena, buio su palco.<br />
SCENA IV<br />
Luce su palco mentre Giorno lo <strong>at</strong>traversa ballando. Gli amici di Aziza entrano con<br />
gli za<strong>in</strong>i come a f<strong>in</strong>e scuola. Arriva anche Stefano che si avvic<strong>in</strong>a a loro.<br />
Stefano: Ciao.<br />
Tutti lo ignorano. Stefano esce. Dopo qualche istante anche gli altri escono di scena,<br />
salutandosi e ridendo. Passa Notte sul palco e la luce cala al buio. Pochi secondi, poi<br />
sale la luce seguendo Giorno che danza <strong>at</strong>traversando la scena. Di nuovo i ragazzi entrano,<br />
questa volta entrambi i gruppi. Stefano entra per ultimo, ignora i suoi vecchi<br />
amici che lo deridono.<br />
Giulio: Adesso sei amico degli immigr<strong>at</strong>i???<br />
Filippo: Non sei mai st<strong>at</strong>o dei nostri, troppo codardo…<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong>a: E non sei nemmeno così figo!<br />
Stefano arriva davanti ad Aziza.<br />
Stefano: Ciao.<br />
Ardit: Ciao.<br />
Aziza: V<strong>at</strong>tene.<br />
Stefano esce. Dopo qualche istante anche gli altri escono di scena, salutandosi e ridendo.<br />
Poi di nuovo passa Notte sul palco e la luce cala al buio. Pochi secondi e la luce risale<br />
seguendo Giorno che danza <strong>at</strong>traversando la scena. Entrano <strong>in</strong> scena Aziza, Mariem<br />
e Methab e vanno sulla panch<strong>in</strong>a. Poco dopo entra Stefano, si avvic<strong>in</strong>a ma il silenzio<br />
e lo sguardo dei tre lo ferma. Senza una parola si gira e se ne va.<br />
Mariem [ad Aziza]: Quanto pensi di andare avanti?<br />
73
Aziza: In eterno! Voglio che si senta come mi sono sentita io umili<strong>at</strong>a e ferita e…<br />
Methab: E brava Aziza!<br />
Mariem: Smettila Methab, non lo vedi che è un’idiozia? Lui è cambi<strong>at</strong>o e tu lo ami,<br />
allora mi spieghi che aspetti?<br />
Aziza: E se f<strong>in</strong>gesse? E se io cedo e lui ricom<strong>in</strong>cia a sfottermi? Perché dovrei fidarmi?<br />
Methab: Già, perché dovremmo fidarci?<br />
Signore anziano: Questa è una bella domanda! Perché dovrebbero fidarsi l’uno<br />
dell’altro? Quando già si sono traditi e i loro padri lo hanno f<strong>at</strong>to prima di loro,<br />
così come i loro nonni e bisnonni… si tradiscono dall’<strong>in</strong>izio dei tempi e ora,<br />
perché dovrebbero fidarsi?<br />
Mariem [rispondendo ad Aziza]: Perché il tuo cuore già gli crede! E ora andiamo<br />
che ho fame.<br />
I tre escono di scena. Di nuovo passa Notte portando il buio e, dopo pochi istanti,<br />
Giorno che riporta la luce. I ragazzi con i loro za<strong>in</strong>i rientrano <strong>in</strong> scena. Stefano per<br />
ultimo, ma più sicuro e deciso. Passa davanti alla panch<strong>in</strong>a del vecchio gruppo che lo<br />
<strong>in</strong>sulta con fischi e parolacce.<br />
Stefano: Ma st<strong>at</strong>e zitti! Siete p<strong>at</strong>etici!<br />
I vecchi amici restano spiazz<strong>at</strong>i e <strong>in</strong>capaci di reagire. Stefano va diretto da Aziza.<br />
Stefano: Ora basta! Dimmi cosa devo fare per conv<strong>in</strong>certi che sono diverso! Qualunque<br />
cosa vuoi che faccia io la farò.<br />
Aziza: Non mi stai mentendo?<br />
Stefano: No! Sono s<strong>in</strong>cero, davvero.<br />
Aziza: Non lo so, io non so se…<br />
Stefano [<strong>in</strong>terrompendola]: Mi piaci davvero e vorrei che tu fossi la mia ragazza!<br />
Aziza resta senza fi<strong>at</strong>o. Ardit, Garik e David com<strong>in</strong>ciano a ridacchiare, mentre Mariem<br />
str<strong>in</strong>ge forte la mano dell’amica che cont<strong>in</strong>ua a restare <strong>in</strong> silenzio. Il silenzio è<br />
sempre più lungo, tutti guadano Aziza, anche i vecchi amici di Stefano, anche il vecchio<br />
signore, ma lei non apre bocca.<br />
Methab: Ora basta! Se ha conv<strong>in</strong>to me che è cambi<strong>at</strong>o credo proprio che dovresti<br />
dargli una possibilità!<br />
Aziza si alza <strong>in</strong> piedi, seria.<br />
74
Mariem [temendo uno scoppio di rabbia]: Aziza, calma, ok?<br />
Ma Aziza d’improvviso abbraccia Stefano e lo bacia sulle labbra. Mart<strong>in</strong>a scappa di<br />
scena urlando «Stronzo» a Stefano, <strong>in</strong>seguita da Elisa. Poi anche i tre ragazzi se ne<br />
vanno.Stefano si siede sulla panch<strong>in</strong>a <strong>in</strong>sieme ai suoi nuovi amici, tenendo Aziza sulle<br />
g<strong>in</strong>occhia.Inizia la musica.<br />
Signore anziano: E bravi i nostri <strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>i, mi hanno stupito! Vuoi vedere che<br />
oltre alla curiosità, dopo tanti secoli, ritrovo anche la speranza…<br />
La musica sale di volume, f<strong>in</strong>ché <strong>in</strong> scena entra Notte portando con sé il buio.<br />
75
Buio.<br />
Tutti contro uno<br />
AUTORE<br />
Adel Wieser<br />
ADATTAMENTO DI<br />
Giada G<strong>at</strong>ti<br />
Donna [voce off]: Bene Thomas, come sai sceglieremo solo qu<strong>in</strong>dici ragazzi che<br />
parteciperanno allo stage della Schwarz apparecchi<strong>at</strong>ure. È un’occasione importante<br />
per voi, perché dopo lo stage ci potrebbe essere la possibilità di un’assunzione.<br />
Tu parli molto bene il tedesco e mi hai detto che non avresti problemi<br />
a trasferirti a Monaco anche per un lungo periodo, e questo è ottimo. Dobbiamo<br />
però valutare molti ragazzi, lo capisci, no? Riceverai comunque una<br />
nostra risposta per posta, tra un paio di settimane scriveremo a tutti i candid<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
Spero di rivederti presto, è st<strong>at</strong>o un piacere conoscerti.<br />
Thomas [voce off]: Anche per me, grazie e arrivederci.<br />
Luce <strong>in</strong> scena. Siamo nella camera di un ragazzo. Letto s<strong>in</strong>golo, un armadio, una cassettiera,<br />
una piccola scrivania con sopra un computer. Poster alle pareti e un po’ di disord<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Thomas, <strong>in</strong> jeans e maglietta, sta sdrai<strong>at</strong>o sul letto e gioca a un videogioco.<br />
È distr<strong>at</strong>to e cont<strong>in</strong>ua a sbagliare. D’un tr<strong>at</strong>to si alza ed esce di scena. Rientra, strascicando<br />
i piedi, poco dopo.<br />
Thomas [impaziente]: Le Poste!<br />
Si ributta sul letto e riprende il videogioco, ma dopo un <strong>at</strong>timo tende l’orecchio come<br />
a un rumore. Sc<strong>at</strong>ta <strong>in</strong> piedi ed esce di scena. Nuovamente rientra abb<strong>at</strong>tuto.<br />
76
Thomas: Meno male che dovevano scrivere dopo due settimane.<br />
Com<strong>in</strong>cia a girare per la stanza, accende il pc, poi mette della musica, si siede al pc che<br />
ancora non è avvi<strong>at</strong>o e impaziente agita il mouse. Poi di nuovo tende l’orecchio, si alza<br />
e scappa fuori. Rientra <strong>in</strong> scena con una lettera, la rigira tra le mani. Si siede sul<br />
letto guardando la busta chiusa. Poi si alza e va a spegnere la musica. Di nuovo si siede<br />
con la busta <strong>in</strong> mano. Fa per aprirla, ma ci ripensa.<br />
Thomas: E se è and<strong>at</strong>a male? Va quasi sempre male!<br />
Thomas poggia la lettera sul letto, accanto a sé. Esce di scena. Rientra dopo un <strong>at</strong>timo<br />
con una l<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a di Coca-Cola, da un’occhi<strong>at</strong>a alla lettera, poi si siede al computer<br />
e <strong>in</strong>izia a scrivere qualcosa. Dopo qualche secondo squilla il cellulare.<br />
Thomas: Pronto? Ohi, Francesco, come butta? Tutto al solito… no, al computer.<br />
Stasera? Ma chi c’è? …e chi è Paolo? …ah, quello! E che c’entra con noi?<br />
…che ha detto? …ti ha detto che siamo amici da anni? …no, no, lo conosco<br />
dalle elementari… va buono, ci penso… sì, ci vediamo lì. A dopo. Sì… ciao.<br />
Thomas ri<strong>at</strong>tacca e cont<strong>in</strong>ua a guardare il telefono.<br />
Thomas: Amici? Quel pezzo di… ora dice che siamo amici! Capito, ora fanno<br />
tutti gli amici. Ciao Thomas qui, ehi Thomas là, ma ti ricordi alle medie, ti ricordi<br />
al parco quando giocavamo <strong>in</strong>sieme. Ma giocavamo chi? Loro giocavano.<br />
A sfottermi, giocavano. Era il loro gioco preferito. «Il pazzo, il pazzo, è arriv<strong>at</strong>o<br />
il pazzo», che bel gioco. Nemmeno fossi st<strong>at</strong>o un cane randagio!<br />
Butta il cellulare sulla scrivania, arrabbi<strong>at</strong>o, si alza e riprende la busta.<br />
Thomas: Quella donna al colloquio mi ha detto di stare tranquillo, che avevo ottime<br />
possibilità. E come no? Ma che possibilità ha uno come me?<br />
Inizia a rivolgersi alla busta come parlasse con la donna del colloquio.<br />
Thomas: Lei è molto gentile, ma perché dovrei crederle? Potrebbe f<strong>in</strong>gere, no?<br />
Così, giusto per essere educ<strong>at</strong>a. Certo, sono estroverso e socievole all’apparenza,<br />
ma non le ho mica raccont<strong>at</strong>o che a scuola mi chiamavano «il pazzo». Sì,<br />
perché ero strano, e poi perché ho com<strong>in</strong>ci<strong>at</strong>o a menare le mani. Ma che scelta<br />
avevo? Tutti mi tr<strong>at</strong>tavano come un cane. E che c’è di diverso ora? Che pos-<br />
77
sibilità ha uno come me? Certo, certo, sono sveglio e non ho paura di lavorare.<br />
Parlo il tedesco, sai che fig<strong>at</strong>a! Ma non si esce dalla merda quando ci sei cresciuto<br />
dentro, <strong>in</strong>utile sperare! Inutile!<br />
Thomas sta per accartocciare la busta chiusa, poi si ferma.<br />
Thomas: E se per una volta fosse and<strong>at</strong>a bene? Se potessi davvero andare via e ricom<strong>in</strong>ciare?<br />
Io qui non ci voglio restare, non ne posso più di merda e merda<br />
e merda. Io voglio…<br />
Thomas resta <strong>in</strong> silenzio un <strong>at</strong>timo, poi poggia con delic<strong>at</strong>ezza la busta sul letto, si alza<br />
e si avvic<strong>in</strong>a all’armadio. Attacc<strong>at</strong>a all’anta c’è una cartol<strong>in</strong>a di mare, Thomas<br />
la guarda, poi la stacca e legge il retro. La poggia sul letto. Torna all’armadio e tira<br />
fuori uno za<strong>in</strong>o da campeggio, butta anche quello sul letto, sopra la cartol<strong>in</strong>a. Poi <strong>in</strong>izia<br />
a tirare fuori dall’armadio vestiti su vestiti e a <strong>in</strong>filarli nello za<strong>in</strong>o. Dopo pochi<br />
momenti non c’entra più nulla. Thomas si ferma.<br />
Thomas: No, così no, non posso buttare dentro tutto quello che capita.<br />
Capovolge lo za<strong>in</strong>o e lo svuota sul letto. Poi <strong>in</strong>izia a scegliere i vestiti. Nel cumulo trova<br />
una maglietta logora e st<strong>in</strong>ta, che sicuramente è troppo piccola per lui. La guarda<br />
con <strong>at</strong>tenzione e sorride tra sé.<br />
Thomas: E di te che ne faccio? Sei <strong>in</strong> quell’armadio da quanto? Dieci anni? Eh sì,<br />
avevo sette anni quando mamma me l’ha regal<strong>at</strong>a. Non mi ricordo nessun altro<br />
regalo di mamma. Né compleanni né N<strong>at</strong>ale. Sei un pezzo unico!<br />
Resta <strong>in</strong> silenzio, pensieroso, seduto a terra con le spalle appoggi<strong>at</strong>e al letto. Allunga una<br />
mano e riprende la busta chiusa.<br />
Thomas: E se me ne vado che ne sarà di mia madre? Non mi ricordo una volta <strong>in</strong><br />
cui mia madre mi abbia f<strong>at</strong>to un regalo, o sia venuta a prendermi a scuola. Io<br />
restavo lì, con lo za<strong>in</strong>o <strong>in</strong> spalla e guardavo i genitori degli altri bamb<strong>in</strong>i che<br />
abbracciavano i propri figli e chiedevano cos’era successo di nuovo quel giorno<br />
a scuola. Deprimente. Questo me lo ricordo.<br />
Però credo che mamma abbia sempre f<strong>at</strong>to il possibile, solo che era troppo impegn<strong>at</strong>a<br />
a litigare con le mie sorelle… anche di questo mi ricordo, di quando<br />
tornavo a casa e sentivo che stavano litigando e urlando e sapevo che mi dovevo<br />
nascondere perché presto avrebbero <strong>in</strong>izi<strong>at</strong>o a picchiarsi. Mi sa che que-<br />
78
sta maglietta con la scritta ABBRACCIAMI me l’ha regal<strong>at</strong>a dopo una di quelle<br />
crisi. Come faccio ad andarmene e a lasciare mia madre <strong>in</strong> questo cas<strong>in</strong>o? Ma<br />
se non me ne vado cont<strong>in</strong>uerà così, violenza, violenza, violenza. Ne ho vista<br />
f<strong>in</strong> troppa di violenza! L’ho us<strong>at</strong>a anche, ma ora non più. No, ora non più, l’ho<br />
deciso. Ma come faccio a restare qui se non voglio mai più alzare le mani su<br />
qualcuno? Qui o picchi o muori, non c’è scelta!<br />
Thomas posa di nuovo la lettera sul letto.<br />
Thomas: Tanto dubito che mi abbiano scelto…<br />
Inizia a piegare accur<strong>at</strong>amente la maglietta. Poi la mette nello za<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Thomas: Si fa così, per scherzo, per illudersi un po’!<br />
Musica. Ricom<strong>in</strong>cia a piegare i vestiti e ogni tanto ne mette qualcuno nell’armadio<br />
e qualcun altro nello za<strong>in</strong>o. Quando ha f<strong>in</strong>ito riprende la busta e ricom<strong>in</strong>cia a rigirarla<br />
fra le mani. La musica si abbassa. Poi, come se di nuovo le parlasse.<br />
Thomas: Il problema non è la risposta. Il problema sono io. Se va bene, ok. Ma<br />
se va male che faccio? Resto qui a distruggermi? Me ne vado lo stesso? Che faccio?<br />
Che ne so io di come ci si comporta fuori? Che faccio?<br />
La musica si alza di nuovo. Thomas si prende la testa tra le mani e resta immobile f<strong>in</strong>o<br />
alla f<strong>in</strong>e del pezzo. F<strong>in</strong>e musica.Thomas prende il telefono.<br />
Thomas: Ohi Francesco sono io, stasera non vengo. No, non ho voglia. Sì sì, alla<br />
prossima, ciao.<br />
Thomas prende lo za<strong>in</strong>o, lo chiude e lo appoggia vic<strong>in</strong>o alla porta. Torna al letto e vede<br />
la cartol<strong>in</strong>a che ci aveva appoggi<strong>at</strong>o sopra. La prende <strong>in</strong> mano.<br />
Thomas: Troppi ricordi per un giorno solo… Ma questo è un monito, non un<br />
ricordo. Se cresci con un padre alcolista che poi un giorno scompare è bene avere<br />
qualcosa che ti ricordi di lui, che ti ricordi di non diventare come lui. La<br />
cosa buffa è che l’unico ricordo di quell’uomo è un ricordo felice. Mi sa che è<br />
per questo che fa ancora più male. Vedere di sfuggita una famiglia… un viaggio<br />
al mare, due genitori felici e sereni e un bamb<strong>in</strong>o che dorme nel sedile posteriore<br />
della macch<strong>in</strong>a, vedere di sfuggita una famiglia normale. Vedere co-<br />
79
me poteva essere se lui fosse st<strong>at</strong>o un altro <strong>in</strong>vece dell’ubriaco che mi svegliava<br />
di notte, puzzando di v<strong>in</strong>o, mi dava dei soldi e spariva per mesi. Già, un<br />
monito. Il monito di cosa potrei perdere, del male che potrei fare se restassi<br />
qui e diventassi come lui. Ma forse sono già come lui… io non lo so se ci si può<br />
risc<strong>at</strong>tare, se si può essere diversi… Ma comunque non voglio essere come lui.<br />
Riapre lo za<strong>in</strong>o e ci mette dentro la cartol<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Thomas: Qualunque cosa, ma non come lui.<br />
Torna al letto, riprende la busta <strong>in</strong> mano.<br />
Thomas: Forza!<br />
Apre la busta e legge la lettera. Resta immobile con lo sguardo fisso, un’espressione <strong>in</strong>decifrabile.<br />
Poi si alza lentamente, piega il foglio e se lo mette nella tasca dei jeans.<br />
Spegne il pc e lo stereo. Si guarda <strong>in</strong>torno, prende lo za<strong>in</strong>o e apre la porta.<br />
Thomas [guardandosi <strong>in</strong>dietro per un <strong>at</strong>timo]: Forza!<br />
Thomas esce di scena. Musica e luce che si abbassa illum<strong>in</strong>ando solo la busta aperta<br />
abbandon<strong>at</strong>a sul letto. Buio.<br />
80
Personaggi<br />
Notte prima… della prima<br />
Apofil Rionero – Venosa – Potenza<br />
TESTI VINCITORI DI<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o Simone D’Incenzo, Marco Cann<strong>at</strong>i,<br />
Lorenzo Romaniello, Felisya Fornar<strong>in</strong>i, Raffaele Santopietro<br />
ADATTATI SCENICAMENTE CON<br />
Aldo Mar<strong>in</strong>etti, Luigi Gilio,V<strong>in</strong>cenzo Blasi,<br />
Isabella Urbano, Maria Rosa, N<strong>in</strong>o Giuralarocca<br />
SUPERVISIONE ARTISTICA A CURA DI<br />
Federica Festa e Lidia Giansanti<br />
PROTAGONISTI<br />
Lorenzo, 16 anni, protagonista dello spettacolo, milanista<br />
Teresa, 15 anni, costumista<br />
Raffaele, 16 anni, tifoso dell’Inter<br />
Felisya, 14 anni, <strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>a di Raffaele<br />
Lea, 15 anni, amante dei cani, amica di Felisya<br />
Marco, 16 anni, dipendente dai Videogiochi<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o, 17 anni, suon<strong>at</strong>ore di tammorra.<br />
VOCI FUORI CAMPO<br />
Mamma, Telecronista, Zanetti<br />
SECONDARI/CORPO DI BALLO<br />
Dante<br />
Vergil<br />
Calci<strong>at</strong>ori<br />
1° Uomo nero<br />
2° Uomo nero<br />
81
Un gruppo di ragazzi è alle soglie del primo debutto te<strong>at</strong>rale. Il giorno prima,<br />
come sempre, si <strong>in</strong>contrano alla villa comunale, confrontandosi su dubbi e paure.<br />
Durante la notte, alcuni di loro fanno sonni agit<strong>at</strong>i: chi sogna di entrare <strong>in</strong> un<br />
videogioco, chi di diventare un grande calci<strong>at</strong>ore, chi, addirittura, di svegliarsi<br />
con il colore della pelle cambi<strong>at</strong>o. F<strong>in</strong>almente, suona la sveglia. È il grande giorno.<br />
La sala del te<strong>at</strong>ro è piena di gente. L’ansia sale. All’aprir del sipario, però, la<br />
compagnia non è ancora pronta. In scena c’è solo Teresa, la costumista, che, suo<br />
malgrado, è costretta a <strong>in</strong>tr<strong>at</strong>tenere il pubblico, raccontando di sé e dei suoi compagni<br />
di avventura. F<strong>in</strong>almente arriva <strong>in</strong> suo soccorso P<strong>in</strong>o che, con la sua tammorra,<br />
co<strong>in</strong>volge tutti, <strong>at</strong>tori e pubblico, sulle note di una canzone di Eugenio<br />
Benn<strong>at</strong>o che racconta la storia e le emozioni dei briganti, protagonisti, durante la<br />
lotta per la conquista dell’unità d’Italia, delle b<strong>at</strong>taglie contro i soprusi nella bellissima<br />
terra di Lucania.<br />
Il giorno prima.<br />
In scena una panch<strong>in</strong>a. Siamo <strong>in</strong> una villa, luogo di ritrovo di un gruppo di adolescenti<br />
che si prepara al debutto <strong>in</strong> te<strong>at</strong>ro all’<strong>in</strong>domani. Entrano Teresa e Lorenzo e si<br />
fermano alla panch<strong>in</strong>a. Teresa deve prendere le misure a Lorenzo perché deve f<strong>in</strong>ire<br />
di cucire il suo costume.<br />
Lorenzo: Ecco vedi, non c’è nessuno, siamo i primi.<br />
Teresa: Allora vieni qui Lorenzo che ti prendo le misure. Devo f<strong>in</strong>ire il tuo costume<br />
da re… Domani c’è lo spettacolo e ieri durante la prova ti si è strapp<strong>at</strong>o il<br />
mantello.<br />
Felisya e l’amica Lea entrano <strong>in</strong> scena dal l<strong>at</strong>o opposto alla panch<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Felisya: Che bella giorn<strong>at</strong>a, sembra quasi primavera.<br />
Lea: È vero, ma io non vedo l’ora che arrivi l’est<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Felisya: …andiamo a prenderci un bel gel<strong>at</strong>o al Danc<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Lea: Veramente dovrei andare a prendere il cane per la solita passeggi<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Felisya: A proposito di cani! Ieri mi è capit<strong>at</strong>a una cosa <strong>in</strong>credibile…<br />
Lea: Un nuovo fidanz<strong>at</strong>o?<br />
Felisya: Beh… non proprio… cioè, il fidanz<strong>at</strong>o c’era, ma per la mia Liù!<br />
Lea: Hai deciso di fare accoppiare la tua cagnol<strong>in</strong>a?<br />
Felisya: Non io! Lui ha deciso!<br />
Lea: Ma lui chi? Io non ci capisco niente!<br />
Felisya: Raffaele… Il re dell’Orange… Il pr<strong>in</strong>cipe del nostro spettacolo!<br />
Lea: Ma chi? Il Cobra?<br />
82
Felisya: Eh?<br />
Lea: Raffaele, detto il Cobra! Lascialo perdere, che è meglio. Ma poi, non ti sei fidanz<strong>at</strong>a<br />
con Marco? Come fa a piacerti un altro?!<br />
Felisya: Ma a me piace tanto. E poi recita benissimo la parte del pr<strong>in</strong>cipe.<br />
Lea: Dai retta a me, quello altro che pr<strong>in</strong>cipe! Comunque… che c’entra il Cobra,<br />
scusa volevo dire «il pr<strong>in</strong>cipe», con la tua Liù?<br />
Felisya: Ieri stavo qui, per la solita passeggi<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>a… Lui arriva, si avvic<strong>in</strong>a e si mette<br />
a giocare con il cane. «Ma come è car<strong>in</strong>a! Che bel muso! Quanti anni ha?».<br />
Insomma, con la scusa del cane, sembrava proprio che… Insomma…<br />
Lea: Ti voleva rimorchiare!<br />
Felisya: È quello che ho pens<strong>at</strong>o, e <strong>in</strong>f<strong>at</strong>ti, con la scusa di ripetere il copione, mi<br />
ha d<strong>at</strong>o appuntamento alle dieci sotto casa!<br />
Lea: E tu glielo hai d<strong>at</strong>o? Sei proprio una f<strong>at</strong>ua!<br />
Felisya: Non c’è niente di male! Facciamo lo spettacolo <strong>in</strong>sieme! E poi… È troppo<br />
fico! Stavo tutta <strong>in</strong> fibrillazione! Vado di corsa a casa per prepararmi… Ho<br />
rovesci<strong>at</strong>o tutto l’armadio! Non sapevo cosa mettermi! Ho prov<strong>at</strong>o il vestit<strong>in</strong>o<br />
viola con i miei tacchi preferiti, ma mi è sembr<strong>at</strong>o un po’ troppo elegante e allora<br />
sono pass<strong>at</strong>a ai jeans neri con il top di paillettes nero. Sembravo pronta<br />
per un funerale! Alla f<strong>in</strong>e, ho scelto il vestit<strong>in</strong>o blu con le mie am<strong>at</strong>e baller<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
«Sarò semplice e car<strong>in</strong>a», mi sono detta.<br />
Lea: Secondo me ti sta meglio il vestito rosso! Io avrei messo quello! Più divertente!<br />
Felisya: Sì, divertente… come quello che è successo dopo!<br />
Lea: Cioè?<br />
Felisya: Alle dieci <strong>in</strong> punto il cellulare squilla… È lui! «Calma, Felisya… F<strong>at</strong>ti<br />
coraggio e senza balbettare, rispondi».<br />
«Pronto?», «Ciao come va? Sei pronta?», mi dice lui. «Un m<strong>in</strong>uto solo e scendo…».<br />
E lui: «Puoi portare anche il tuo cane?», «Cosa? Il cane? Devo portare il<br />
cane??? Ma che cane?». Non riuscivo proprio a capire e lui mi spiega, tutto<br />
contento, che ha pens<strong>at</strong>o di fare accoppiare le mia Liù con il suo Hiroshi. «Si<br />
certo… è una bella idea, ma adesso Liù dorme», gli ho risposto io un po’ nervosa.<br />
«Allora io provo a casa, da solo, dopo la partita. Ci vediamo un altro giorno!».<br />
Capisci che idiota? E io che credevo… Insomma, alla f<strong>in</strong>e, tra tutte le<br />
prove di vestiti… Non mi sono neppure ripetuta la parte!<br />
Lea: Altro che vestiti, avresti f<strong>at</strong>to meglio a portare il cane dal toelett<strong>at</strong>ore.<br />
Felisya: Spiritosa!<br />
Lea: Comunque, eccolo che arriva! Il tuo pr<strong>in</strong>cipe!!!<br />
Felisya: Eeeeeeeeh… Me ne sono accorta, va be’, facciamo le dis<strong>in</strong>volte…<br />
Raffaele si avvic<strong>in</strong>a alle ragazze e viene subito raggiunto anche dai due cani.<br />
83
Raffaele: Ciao Felisya… cos’hai? Sembri nervosa!<br />
Felisya: Eh niente… è l’agitazione per lo spettacolo!<br />
Lea: Inf<strong>at</strong>ti! È molto preoccup<strong>at</strong>a di non ricordarsi niente! Tu la sai la parte del<br />
pr<strong>in</strong>cipe?<br />
Raffaele: E certo! Ma che vi credete… io sono un pr<strong>in</strong>cipe n<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Lea: Per me tu sei solo il Cobra!<br />
Raffaele: Cosa?<br />
Felisya: Lascia stare… Lea scherza! Guard<strong>at</strong>e… lì ci sono Teresa e Lorenzo! Ehi?<br />
Ragazzi?!<br />
Felisya si avvia verso la panch<strong>in</strong>a, gli altri la seguono.<br />
Raffaele [a Lea]: Poi mi spieghi questa storia del Cobra!<br />
Raffaele vede Lorenzo, dunque tira fuori e sventola la bandiera dell’Inter.<br />
Raffaele: Forza Inter! [a Lorenzo che sta <strong>in</strong> piedi con le braccia aperte a farsi prendere<br />
le misure] Avete perso! Scoppola! A dormire, forza Inter.<br />
Lorenzo: Lasciami perdere, non mi <strong>in</strong>teressa proprio… Domani c’è lo spettacolo,<br />
altro che calcio.<br />
Raffaele: Sì, sì, dici così perché abbiamo v<strong>in</strong>to 4 a 0.<br />
Raffaele rimane avvolto nella bandiera e tenta di togliersela, ma gli si arrotola. Entra<br />
Marco.<br />
Marco [b<strong>at</strong>te c<strong>in</strong>que a tutti]: Ciao, bella! Come va? Resto solo dieci m<strong>in</strong>uti perché<br />
devo ritornare a casa. Ho lasci<strong>at</strong>o il computer <strong>in</strong> pausa, devo f<strong>in</strong>ire l’ultimo<br />
livello di Hitman, l’ultimo mio videogioco. Il tempo solo di fumarmi una<br />
sigaretta. Allora siete proprio conv<strong>in</strong>ti che vogliamo fare questo spettacolo<br />
domani?<br />
Raffaele: Perché, hai paura?<br />
Marco: Paura io! Guarda che sono arriv<strong>at</strong>o al quarto livello, eh!<br />
Lorenzo: Ma il videogioco è f<strong>in</strong>to, mentre il pubblico è vero, Marco!<br />
Teresa: È normale avere un po’ di paura.<br />
Marco: Allora ve lo dico: ho una paura grandissima, peggio che andare dal dentista.<br />
Marco si siede sulla panch<strong>in</strong>a e si accende una sigaretta.<br />
84
Felisya: Allora chi manca?<br />
Lea: Indov<strong>in</strong>a un po’? Sempre lui… Ma eccolo che arriva, la lumaca.<br />
Entra P<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Scus<strong>at</strong>e ragazzi, ho f<strong>at</strong>to tardi, dovevo f<strong>in</strong>ire le prove di tammorra.<br />
Raffaele: Tu l’unica volta che arrivi puntuale è quando devi prendere i soldi dalla<br />
mamma.<br />
Teresa: Siamo alle solite, domani abbiamo lo spettacolo e io devo ancora provarti<br />
il costume!<br />
Felisya: Ti ricordi domani di venire puntuale per lo spettacolo?<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Vi prometto! Domani sarò puntualissimo. A che ora è l’appuntamento a<br />
te<strong>at</strong>ro? Alle otto?<br />
Tutti: Alle sei!<br />
Lea: Io ho una vergogna!<br />
Teresa: Domani viene a vedermi anche il mio ragazzo.<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Speriamo di non sbagliare la scena… altrimenti… sai che figuraccia!?<br />
Teresa: Che emozione, non vedo l’ora, spero che i costumi siano perfetti.<br />
Raffaele: Oh… domani esce pure la sched<strong>in</strong>a. Speriamo di v<strong>in</strong>cere.<br />
Teresa: Dài ragazzi! È ora di muoversi, e ricord<strong>at</strong>evi: domani alle sei <strong>in</strong> te<strong>at</strong>ro per riprovare<br />
la canzone. Mi raccomando, stasera ripass<strong>at</strong>e le vostre parti a memoria.<br />
Tutti: Ciao, a domani.<br />
Escono tutti <strong>in</strong> gruppo, tranne Teresa che f<strong>in</strong>isce di sistemare la valigia.<br />
Teresa [tira fuori le trecce di Giulietta e com<strong>in</strong>cia a recitare]: «Oh Romeo Romeo…<br />
Perché sei tu Romeo…», [<strong>in</strong>ciampa sulle trecce] Devo accorciarle un<br />
po’… altrimenti la prima <strong>at</strong>trice casca proprio sul più bello. Certo, non credevo<br />
che una costumista avesse tutte queste responsabilità! Però mi piace, mi<br />
piace il te<strong>at</strong>ro… è come vivere <strong>in</strong> un sogno. A proposito… meglio che mi sbrighi…<br />
stasera, a letto presto… [enf<strong>at</strong>izzando] «Non devo preoccuparmi… dopotutto…<br />
domani è un altro giorno».<br />
Teresa esce sulle note di Via col vento. Buio.<br />
La luce si riaccende. Coni di luce. Ognuno dei personaggi, sotto un cono di luce, è <strong>in</strong><br />
pigiama e vive la sua ser<strong>at</strong>a, <strong>in</strong> <strong>at</strong>tesa del debutto del giorno successivo. Compie delle<br />
azioni senza gli oggetti: Lorenzo ripassa la parte, Marco gioca al videogame, P<strong>in</strong>o<br />
suona la tammorra, Felisya si prova un vestito, Lea fa esercizi con la voce, Raffaele fa<br />
dei palleggi.<br />
85
Lea [guardandosi allo specchio]: Mamma mia che ansia! Ma chi me lo ha f<strong>at</strong>to fare!<br />
Meglio che mi faccia un esercizio di respirazione, così mi calmo e dormo…<br />
Dopotutto domani è un altro giorno!<br />
Buio su Lea che esce.<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Se cont<strong>in</strong>uo a suonare la tammorra i vic<strong>in</strong>i mi uccidono. Meglio dormici<br />
su, domani è un gran giorno, anzi, domani è un altro giorno.<br />
Buio su P<strong>in</strong>o che esce.<br />
Lorenzo: Basta ripetere! Tanto no, non mi ricorderò mai nulla. E se domani non<br />
vado? E dico che sto male? [mette la sveglia] Sveglia alle sette e non ci penso<br />
più… Domani è un altro giorno!<br />
Buio su Lorenzo che esce.<br />
Felisya: Che sonno… È ora di andare a dormire, Felisya! Domani vedrò di nuovo<br />
il mio pr<strong>in</strong>cipe… un altro sguardo… domani… un altro giorno…<br />
Buio su Felisya che esce.<br />
Raffaele: Sono preoccup<strong>at</strong>issimo, stasera gioca l’Inter! Speriamo bene! Forse dovrei<br />
ripassare ancora la parte, altrimenti… Che ne sarà di me? «Francamente<br />
me ne <strong>in</strong>fischio»… Che <strong>at</strong>tore!!!<br />
Raffaele esce sul f<strong>in</strong>ale musicale di Via col vento. Buio.<br />
Parte il video con le immag<strong>in</strong>i e l’audio dell’<strong>in</strong>contro fra Dante e Vergil, i due personaggi<br />
del videogioco Devil May Cry. Si illum<strong>in</strong>a luce sogno, <strong>in</strong> proscenio, una pedana/letto.<br />
Sopra c’è sdrai<strong>at</strong>o Marco, che dorme e sogna. Lo spett<strong>at</strong>ore assiste al suo sogno.<br />
Dallo schermo elastico esce Dante. Si avvic<strong>in</strong>a a Marco, presentandosi.<br />
Dante: Sono Dante, figlio del nobile re Spada, e sono qui per proteggerti perché<br />
so bene che, fortuitamente, ti sei trov<strong>at</strong>o nel bel mezzo di una guerra senza<br />
neppure rendertene conto. Non temere, f<strong>in</strong>ché starai con me sarai al sicuro!<br />
Marco [<strong>in</strong>timorito]: Mi chiamo Marco e sono il proprietario di questo videogioco…<br />
ma dove sono?<br />
Si ode un tuono.<br />
86
Dante: Non preoccuparti e sta dietro di me. [Marco si alza e si pone dietro Dante]<br />
Sta arrivando ora il demone-ombra, è un buon guerriero, ma lo conosco<br />
bene. Saprò come disfarmi di lui.<br />
Dante sfila la spada, comb<strong>at</strong>te nel vuoto e v<strong>in</strong>ce.<br />
Dante: Marco, è f<strong>in</strong>ita. Ora dobbiamo metterci <strong>in</strong> salvo!<br />
Marco [terrorizz<strong>at</strong>o]: Perché questa lotta? Perché tutta questa violenza? Perché<br />
comb<strong>at</strong>tete?<br />
Dante fa segno a Marco di accomodarsi.<br />
Dante: Marco, questa è una storia lunga che cercherò di spiegarti brevemente,<br />
sperando di far chiarezza tra i tuoi mille punti <strong>in</strong>terrog<strong>at</strong>ivi. Circa c<strong>in</strong>que anni<br />
fa, la mia famiglia venne sterm<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>a da un drago che riposava da millenni <strong>in</strong><br />
un lago. Si dice che questo drago fosse l’<strong>in</strong>carnazione dell’ultimo re che dom<strong>in</strong>ò<br />
il mio Paese prima della sconfitta subita dai miei avi, i quali lo detronizzarono.<br />
Una leggenda narra che questo re non sia mai morto e che si sia trasform<strong>at</strong>o<br />
<strong>in</strong> un enorme drago sputafuoco. Quando, dopo un sonno dur<strong>at</strong>o<br />
millenni, il drago si risvegliò, nulla poterono i guerrieri e le armi dei miei avi.<br />
Uccise tutti, tranne mio padre, che allora era ancora un <strong>in</strong>fante e che mia nonna<br />
mise <strong>in</strong> salvo grazie a un amuleto particolare <strong>in</strong> grado di allontanare qualsiasi<br />
forza del male da chi lo <strong>in</strong>dossa. Successivamente il drago scomparve;<br />
nessuno sa che f<strong>in</strong>e abbia f<strong>at</strong>to e tutti si aspettano un imm<strong>in</strong>ente <strong>at</strong>tacco poiché<br />
l’<strong>at</strong>mosfera è divent<strong>at</strong>a pesante ed è sceso un grigiore <strong>in</strong>spiegabile, la palude<br />
com<strong>in</strong>cia a gorgogliare come acqua bollente <strong>in</strong> una pentola. Tornando al<br />
medaglione, mio padre, prima di morire, lo donò a me, destando così l’<strong>in</strong>vidia<br />
di mio fr<strong>at</strong>ello Vergil. Egli adesso ha sc<strong>at</strong>en<strong>at</strong>o una vera e propria guerra contro<br />
di me, arruolando eserciti di mostri orribili e disposti a tutto pur di ottenere<br />
il potere, proprio come lui! Ti trovi qui per un caso fortuito: un essere umano<br />
può entrare a far parte della nostra storia solo se riesce ad accendere il pc nel<br />
momento es<strong>at</strong>to <strong>in</strong> cui io, con una mano, str<strong>in</strong>go l’amuleto e, con l’altra,<br />
sgua<strong>in</strong>o la mia spada. Ecco! Tu sei st<strong>at</strong>o il fortun<strong>at</strong>o, o lo sfortun<strong>at</strong>o!<br />
Marco: Non credo alle mie orecchie… come posso essere st<strong>at</strong>o così sfig<strong>at</strong>o!? Ok,<br />
calma! Ho capito, Dante. Ora voglio sapere solo un’ultima cosa: come diavolo<br />
posso tornare al mio mondo e alle mie cose?<br />
Dante: Tutto avverrà! Tornerai presto a casa, ma ora sei qui: puoi limitarti a fare<br />
da spett<strong>at</strong>ore o decidere se schierarti dalla mia parte o da quella di Vergil.<br />
Così renderesti la tua permanenza <strong>in</strong> questa realtà più emozionante!<br />
87
Marco: No! Non se ne parla nemmeno! Io sto con te e rimango con te… Non vedo<br />
come potrei aiutarti, sono basso e non so neanche impugnarla una spada!<br />
Dante [con una pacca sulla spalla]: La tua stima mi aiuterà… Ma ecco Vergil!<br />
Entra Vergil.<br />
Marco: Mio Dio, è altissimo!<br />
Vergil [digrigna i denti e si avvic<strong>in</strong>a lentamente a Dante]: Stupido fr<strong>at</strong>ello, non ne<br />
hai abbastanza? Consegnami il medaglione e avrai la tua vita salva!<br />
Dante: È st<strong>at</strong>o don<strong>at</strong>o a me perché potessi dom<strong>in</strong>are sul nostro Paese portando<br />
pace e tranquillità… Tu saresti il contrario, sei il male personific<strong>at</strong>o!<br />
Musica e coreografia: Vergil, con sc<strong>at</strong>to fel<strong>in</strong>o, balza <strong>in</strong> avanti brandendo la sua lunga<br />
spada per uccidere Marco. Dante lo blocca da dietro, lo tiene ben fermo e lui si dimena<br />
come un’anguilla; cerca di liberarsi, ma Dante è superiore, lo colpisce, e Vergil,<br />
urlando, scompare dentro lo schermo elastico.<br />
Dante: Che brutta f<strong>in</strong>e! E pensare che avremmo potuto governare il Paese <strong>in</strong>sieme,<br />
<strong>in</strong> armonia. La sete di potere e le manie di grandezza non portano mai cose<br />
buone, ricordalo Marco! Se vuoi, ora, puoi tornare alla tua realtà… si aprirà<br />
una porta virtuale e tu sarai libero.<br />
Dante scompare alle spalle di Marco.<br />
Marco: Quasi quasi rimango, così non dovrò più ascoltare gli assilli di mia madre,<br />
le pretese della mia ragazza, il peso di un lavoro stabile che non riesco a<br />
trovare, e, come se non bastasse… lo spettacolo di domani! Ma cosa dico! È la<br />
mia vita e devo comb<strong>at</strong>tere a denti stretti – proprio come ha f<strong>at</strong>to Dante – ogni<br />
giorno, per renderla migliore e per diventare migliore! Vado! Dante, allora<br />
ciao… [grida] Addio Dante! Buona fortuna e grazie, ovunque tu sia!<br />
Sul video viene spar<strong>at</strong>a una forte luce. Il video si spegne. Marco si sveglia di sc<strong>at</strong>to.<br />
Urla. Buio.<br />
Luce su Raffaele addorment<strong>at</strong>o. Si gira e il pallone rotola dal palco. Rumori e voci da<br />
stadio. Dalla pl<strong>at</strong>ea entrano i calci<strong>at</strong>ori, salutando i tifosi.<br />
Pubblico: Inter! Inter! Inter!<br />
Si sente la voce registr<strong>at</strong>a del telecronista.<br />
88
Telecronista: I nostri gioc<strong>at</strong>ori sembrano <strong>in</strong> forma… [Raffaele avanza e afferra il<br />
pallone che gli rilanciano dalla pl<strong>at</strong>ea dove era f<strong>in</strong>ito] Ma ecco il nostro bravissimo<br />
Santopietro… Sembra energico e agguerrito, pronto per v<strong>in</strong>cere!<br />
Il pubblico dei tifosi lo <strong>in</strong>cita.<br />
Pubblico: Santopietro, Santopietro…<br />
Telecronista: Le squadre sono pronte. Aspettiamo solo il fischio d’<strong>in</strong>izio dell’arbitro.<br />
Luce solo su Raffaele/Santopietro che palleggia.<br />
Santopietro: Oddio! Vuoi vedere che tra un po’ mi viene un <strong>in</strong>farto? Ho troppa<br />
adrenal<strong>in</strong>a <strong>in</strong> corpo… Mamma mia… Mi sa proprio che ora giro i tacchi<br />
e me ne vado.<br />
Luce su tutti i gioc<strong>at</strong>ori/danz<strong>at</strong>ori che salgono sul palco e si posizionano.<br />
Telecronista: È la prima volta che il nostro Santopietro gioca una partita di campion<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
C’è qui con me proprio chi lo ha scoperto e lo ha port<strong>at</strong>o f<strong>in</strong> qui: il<br />
campione Javier Zanetti. Vuole dire qualcosa per <strong>in</strong>coraggiarlo?<br />
Zanetti: Dài, forza Raf, ti capisco! Anche io avevo paura la prima volta che ho<br />
messo piede <strong>in</strong> campo, ma poi ci si fa l’abitud<strong>in</strong>e! Ora pensa solo a giocare e a<br />
dare il meglio di te stesso.<br />
L’arbitro fischia per far <strong>in</strong>iziare la partita.<br />
Coreografia: i calci<strong>at</strong>ori/danz<strong>at</strong>ori simulano una partita di calcio. Alla f<strong>in</strong>e Raffaele<br />
cade a terra.<br />
Telecronista: Azione fallosa nei confronti di Santopietro.<br />
Fermo luce su Raffaele. Gli altri restano immobili.<br />
Santopietro: Non può f<strong>in</strong>ire così, non posso deludere i miei compagni e sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto<br />
i tifosi! Dài, forza, rialz<strong>at</strong>i… Non è niente. Ora devo rendere l’impossibile<br />
possibile.<br />
Luce diffusa. Il pubblico acclama. Raffaele si alza e va verso il gruppo di gioc<strong>at</strong>ori.<br />
89
Telecronista: Ecco che Santopietro si rialza! Che energia questo gioc<strong>at</strong>ore!<br />
Zanetti: Forza ragazzi, dobbiamo v<strong>in</strong>cerla questa partita! Santopietro… Dài!<br />
Stai andando alla grande, cont<strong>in</strong>ua così…<br />
Telecronista: L’Inter si sta giocando lo scudetto! Santopietro! Tutto è nelle tue<br />
mani, anzi nei tuoi piedi!<br />
Pubblico: Santopietro, Santopietro!<br />
Riprende la coreografia con effetto rallenty e simulazione di un fallo contro Santopietro.<br />
Stop musica. Raffaele, a rallenty ma senza musica, posiziona il pallone sull’immag<strong>in</strong>ario<br />
dischetto. I danz<strong>at</strong>ori escono, sempre a rallenty. Intanto si sentono le grida<br />
del pubblico, la voce del telecronista e di Zanetti.<br />
Pubblico: Rigore! Rigore!<br />
Zanetti: Dài, ricorda che l’aria di rigore è la tua dimora, i gioc<strong>at</strong>ori avversari, il<br />
pallone e la porta sono le tue prede. Tu sei il pred<strong>at</strong>ore, distruggile.<br />
Telecronista: Calcio di rigore per Santopietro.<br />
Santopietro: Non vi deluderò… Farò questo gol.<br />
Zanetti: Mi fido di te… Vai e segna! San Siro è con te!<br />
Inizia la base di Momenti di gloria. Il pubblico è <strong>in</strong> delirio, poi silenzio totale: Santopietro<br />
tira e di nuovo ovazione… Raffaele si lancia sul letto come se fosse una porta…<br />
Si sente il suono della sveglia.<br />
Raffaele [come svegliandosi di colpo]: Gol! Gol!!! [si guarda <strong>in</strong>torno… prende il telefon<strong>in</strong>o,<br />
spegne la sveglia] Ma <strong>in</strong>somma, chi ha messo la sveglia a quest’ora? Proprio<br />
sul più bello… ma abbiamo v<strong>in</strong>to? Capitan Zanetti? Capitan Zanetti?<br />
Raffaele esce, portando via il pallone. Buio.<br />
Si sente la voce della mamma di Lorenzo. Luce su Lorenzo, sulla pedana, che dorme.<br />
Mamma: Lorenzo! Svegli<strong>at</strong>i che è tardi! Lorenzo!<br />
La sveglia cont<strong>in</strong>ua a suonare. Lorenzo cont<strong>in</strong>ua a rigirarsi nel letto, tira fuori un<br />
braccio dalle coperte, ma non riesce a trovare la sveglia sul comod<strong>in</strong>o per spegnerla. La<br />
mamma cont<strong>in</strong>ua a chiamarlo, urlando.<br />
Lorenzo: Mia madre, la più terribile delle sveglie esistenti sul pianeta Terra. Produce<br />
un suono squillante e fastidioso che neanche il più esperto dei c<strong>in</strong>esi è<br />
riuscito mai a riprodurre.<br />
90
Mamma: Svegli<strong>at</strong>iiiiiiiiiii, è tardissimooooooooo.<br />
Lorenzo: Sì, mamma.<br />
Mamma: Lorenzo! Svegli<strong>at</strong>i che è tardi!<br />
Lorenzo f<strong>in</strong>almente si alza.<br />
Mamma: Sei sveglio? Lorenzo!<br />
Lorenzo: Sìììììììì, sono sveglio! Almeno credo! Uffa! Tutti i giorni la stessa storia.<br />
Ma se una madre così la metto su eBay, secondo voi, qualcuno la compra? Accetto<br />
anche scambi… che dur<strong>in</strong>o almeno trent’anni! Mamma mia che sonno…<br />
non vedo nemmeno la porta del bagno…<br />
Esce, come per entrare <strong>in</strong> bagno, e riesce subito. La sua faccia è terrorizz<strong>at</strong>a e <strong>in</strong>credula.<br />
Esce di nuovo. Rientra con uno specchio. Tentenna e poi si specchia. È divent<strong>at</strong>o<br />
un nero.<br />
Lorenzo: Mio Dio, sono nero, tutto nero! Che cosa mi è successo, cosa è successo<br />
stanotte… Saranno st<strong>at</strong>e le mozzarelle che ho mangi<strong>at</strong>o ieri! [guardandosi<br />
ancora allo specchio] Ooooh mio Dio! La mia pelle! La mia bellissima pelle! E<br />
ora? Che faccio? [mentre si <strong>in</strong>fila una maglietta] Però! Che muscoli, che corpo…<br />
c’ho pure la tartaruga! Beh, devo ammettere che anche così sono un gran<br />
bel figo. Torniamo alla realtà: non può essere st<strong>at</strong>o il cibo… Forse una pozione<br />
di mia madre… Deve esserci una spiegazione plausibile!<br />
Prende l’iPod. Parte una musica. Entra il corpo di ballo. Coreografia hip hop. Lorenzo<br />
spegne l’iPod. Nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo f<strong>in</strong>isce di vestirsi, e il suo volto è ancora <strong>in</strong>credulo.<br />
Lorenzo: Urca, è tardissimo! È ora di andare a scuola… ’sta tuta rossa è perfetta…<br />
nero e rosso… che fig<strong>at</strong>a! Forza Milan! Sempre!<br />
Musica. Lorenzo esce da destra, ma un gruppo di ragazzi lo resp<strong>in</strong>ge verso il palco. Lo<br />
circondano.<br />
Lorenzo: Ehi ragazzi, che c’è? Che avete?<br />
Raffaele: Oh, ma questo chi è? Chi lo conosce? Da dove viene?<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Oh, ma chi sei? Chi ti conosce!<br />
Lorenzo: Ragazzi, sono io, Lorenzo!<br />
Marco: Ma lev<strong>at</strong>i dalle palle! V<strong>at</strong>tene!<br />
91
Lorenzo cerca di uscire a s<strong>in</strong>istra, ma dalla stessa qu<strong>in</strong>ta, entrano due uom<strong>in</strong>i vestiti<br />
eleganti con occhiali da sole che lo sp<strong>in</strong>tonano. Lorenzo cerca di allontanarsi.<br />
Lorenzo: E mò che faccio?! Fammene andare prima che f<strong>in</strong>isca a mazz<strong>at</strong>e!<br />
Uomo 1: Ehi tu, dove credi di andare, negro di merda!<br />
Uomo 2: Guarda che ti teniamo d’occhio!<br />
Lo <strong>in</strong>seguono e lo prendono dalle braccia. Avanzano anche gli altri.<br />
Lorenzo: Perché m’<strong>in</strong>seguite? Non ho f<strong>at</strong>to niente! Lasci<strong>at</strong>emi stare! Aiuto, io<br />
non ho f<strong>at</strong>to niente!<br />
Uomo 1: Dicci chi sei.<br />
Uomo 2: Che cosa hai <strong>in</strong>tenzione di fare?<br />
Uomo 1: Stai organizzando un <strong>at</strong>tent<strong>at</strong>o, eh?!<br />
Lorenzo: Ma io non so nemmeno organizzare una festa di compleanno, figuriamoci<br />
un <strong>at</strong>tent<strong>at</strong>o!<br />
Uomo 1: Allora vuoi mettere qualche bomba, sporco negro.<br />
Lorenzo: Al massimo due tric-trac, dei m<strong>in</strong>iciccioli… Credetemi, io stam<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a<br />
ero bianco!<br />
Uomo 2: Ah ah, eri bianco?! E cos’è successo, ora?<br />
Uomo 1: Ti sei bruci<strong>at</strong>o nel forno?<br />
Lorenzo: No, credetemi… ero bianco… davvero… lasci<strong>at</strong>emi stare.<br />
Raffaele: Adesso basta! Lasci<strong>at</strong>elo andare!<br />
Uomo 2: Perché, lo conosci?<br />
Lorenzo: Ma certo che mi conosce! È il mio migliore amico!<br />
Raffaele: No, non lo conosco… ma non mi piace quello che f<strong>at</strong>e!<br />
Uomo 1: F<strong>at</strong>ti da parte! Non ti impicciare!<br />
Uomo 2: Già, togliti di mezzo!<br />
Marco: Perché? Sennò che fai?<br />
Lorenzo: Ragazzi… lasci<strong>at</strong>e perdere…<br />
Musica. Coreografia tra i due gruppi hip hop. Alla f<strong>in</strong>e, i due uom<strong>in</strong>i scappano e gli<br />
altri se ne vanno ridendo. Nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo, Lorenzo, si è ripar<strong>at</strong>o vic<strong>in</strong>o alla pedana. Si<br />
gira e rigira, come se stesse facendo un <strong>in</strong>cubo. Si sente la sveglia. Lorenzo si alza di<br />
sc<strong>at</strong>to, prende lo specchio.<br />
Lorenzo: Oh Dio, è st<strong>at</strong>o solo un brutto sogno, ho solo sogn<strong>at</strong>o!<br />
La mamma nell’altra stanza, urla.<br />
92
Mamma: Lorenzo sei svegliooooo?<br />
Lorenzo: Sì mamma, sono sveglio! Mamma, sei la sveglia più dolce del mondo!<br />
Buio.<br />
Musica di scena. Tutti entrano ad <strong>at</strong>trezzare il palcoscenico per lo spettacolo. Coreografia.<br />
Tutti escono. Teresa si avvic<strong>in</strong>a al baule, tira fuori un costume. Entra il regista,<br />
Marco, trafel<strong>at</strong>o e toglie una scala.<br />
Marco: Sbrig<strong>at</strong>i Teresa, fra qu<strong>in</strong>dici m<strong>in</strong>uti com<strong>in</strong>ciamo e voglio che sia tutto sistem<strong>at</strong>o<br />
a punt<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Teresa: Marco, ma che cosa hai? Non ti ho mai visto così deciso!<br />
Entra Lea.<br />
Marco: Sì, eh? È che ieri sera giocando al videogioco…<br />
Lea: Marco, non è il momento di parlare di questo…<br />
Marco: Sì, hai ragione Lea, fra poco <strong>in</strong>izia il gioco vero! Tutti ai posti di comb<strong>at</strong>timento<br />
allora!<br />
Lea: Oddio, hanno detto che c’è il te<strong>at</strong>ro pieno, e c’è pure il tuo ragazzo.<br />
Teresa: Davvero? Che emozione!<br />
Entra Lorenzo.<br />
Lorenzo: Oh Lea! Non sai che sogno ho f<strong>at</strong>to stanotte, anzi che <strong>in</strong>cubo! Ero divent<strong>at</strong>o<br />
nero!<br />
Lea: Ma dài, che bello!<br />
Lorenzo: Ma come «che bello»? È st<strong>at</strong>o un <strong>in</strong>cubo!<br />
Lea: Sì, ma mò sei bianco, ti sei risvegli<strong>at</strong>o e ti devi muovere ché com<strong>in</strong>cia lo spettacolo.<br />
Entra Raffaele e si avvic<strong>in</strong>a a Lorenzo.<br />
Raffaele [rivolto a Lorenzo]: Ma veramente stanotte hai f<strong>at</strong>to un <strong>in</strong>cubo? Io, <strong>in</strong>vece,<br />
ho f<strong>at</strong>to il sogno più bello della mia vita: ero un gioc<strong>at</strong>ore e giocavo nell’Inter.<br />
Lorenzo: Ancora con l’Inter! Meglio stare nel Milan!<br />
Raffaele: Seeee, c’erano miei idoli: Eto’o, Milito, capitan Zanetti e altri, nella<br />
partita più bella del campion<strong>at</strong>o… il derby di Milano contro di voi.<br />
Lorenzo: E magari alla f<strong>in</strong>e hai f<strong>at</strong>to un gol e avete v<strong>in</strong>to voi?<br />
93
Raffaele: Certo!<br />
Lorenzo: Almeno nei sogni!<br />
Raffaele: Alla f<strong>in</strong>e tiravo il rigore della vittoria. Pallone sul dischetto, r<strong>in</strong>corsa e<br />
tiro. Il pallone arriva come un missile sotto l’<strong>in</strong>crocio dei pali. Gol gol gol!!!<br />
Lorenzo: E poi ti sei svegli<strong>at</strong>o e noi abbiamo v<strong>in</strong>to lo scudetto!<br />
Lea: E chi eri? Quale gioc<strong>at</strong>ore?<br />
Raffaele: Io, capisci ero proprio io… Santopietro, me stesso… è st<strong>at</strong>o bellissimo!<br />
Lorenzo e Raffaele escono mentre parlottano fra loro; entrano Felisya e Lea.<br />
Raffaele: Ciao Felisya, allora s’è svegli<strong>at</strong>o il tuo cane?<br />
Felisya: Certo!<br />
Raffaele: Allora poi gli facciamo fare la scena del bacio, con il mio, eh?<br />
Felisya: Sì, sì!<br />
Raffaele esce.<br />
Felisya: Hai visto come mi ha guard<strong>at</strong>o?<br />
Lea: Ma che vuoi che ne so io… Non so niente!<br />
Marco [entrando]: Dài sbrighiamoci! Ripassiamo il balletto e poi <strong>in</strong> camer<strong>in</strong>o! Si<br />
va <strong>in</strong> scena fra dieci m<strong>in</strong>uti!<br />
Lea: Mamma mia!!!<br />
Canzone e coreografia. Tutti escono. Si chiude il sipario. Annuncio di <strong>in</strong>izio spettacolo.<br />
Il sipario si riapre, mentre Teresa sta cercando di spostare il baule di scena.<br />
Teresa: Tutto io devo fare!!!<br />
Si accorge che il sipario si è aperto e il pubblico è lì a guardare.<br />
Teresa: Madonna mia, c’è il pubblico! E mò che faccio? Lo spettacolo doveva com<strong>in</strong>ciare<br />
fra dieci m<strong>in</strong>uti… Questa è la volta buona che il regista mi licenzia…<br />
[al pubblico] Eh, ehm buonasera, c’è st<strong>at</strong>o un errore, io sono solo la costumista,<br />
stavo f<strong>in</strong>endo di mettere a posto le ultime cose, non dovevo essere qui… [sorride<br />
imbarazz<strong>at</strong>a] E va beh, vi racconto qualcosa, almeno ci provo… E così il<br />
resto della compagnia f<strong>in</strong>isce di prepararsi. [apre il baule e prende un peluche]<br />
Ecco, questo sembra il cane di Lea… lei li adora i cani. [prende una sciarpa dal<br />
baule dell’Inter] Ah, questa sciarpa mi ricorda un ragazzo. A lui piace giocare a<br />
calcio, il suo sogno è sempre st<strong>at</strong>o quello di diventare un calci<strong>at</strong>ore famoso e<br />
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giocare nella serie A. Ha sempre una sciarpa addosso, est<strong>at</strong>e e <strong>in</strong>verno, anche<br />
quando va a scuola; l’est<strong>at</strong>e la mette <strong>in</strong> testa per ripararsi dal sole e l’<strong>in</strong>verno per<br />
il freddo. [tira fuori una felpa rossa] E questa, <strong>in</strong>vece, è di Lorenzo, che una volta<br />
ha sogn<strong>at</strong>o di diventare tutto nero! [Teresa <strong>in</strong>dossa una corona] E questa mi ricorda<br />
una mia amica che passa le ore a scegliere i vestiti! [prende una tammorra]<br />
La musica nostra, come la suona P<strong>in</strong>o, che ci piace tanto… [prende il suo camice<br />
da sarta] Questo grembiule è il mio preferito, è il mio abito da sart<strong>in</strong>a. Quando<br />
lo <strong>in</strong>dosso sono Teresa, la sarta di scena. Sono la Cenerentola della compagnia,<br />
ma sono felice ogni volta che un abito viene <strong>in</strong>doss<strong>at</strong>o e prende vita sulla<br />
scena. E mi sembra di diventare la pr<strong>in</strong>cipessa dello spettacolo, di essere una,<br />
due, dieci, cento <strong>at</strong>trici. Riesco a creare tutto quello che voglio con il mio ago<br />
e il mio filo, [lo <strong>in</strong>dossa] e con il mio grembiule mi sento una reg<strong>in</strong>a!<br />
Entra P<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Hai visto la mia tammorra?<br />
Teresa gli fa grandi gesti, per <strong>in</strong>dicare il pubblico…<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Salve a tutti!<br />
Teresa [cercando di salvare la situazione]: Signori, ecco a voi il primo dei nostri artisti…<br />
Un applauso, prego… dài… coraggio present<strong>at</strong>i al nostro pubblico.<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Mi chiamo P<strong>in</strong>o, che sarebbe Giuseppe, come mio nonno p<strong>at</strong>erno, ma il<br />
dim<strong>in</strong>utivo mi suona meglio, e anche su Fb mi trov<strong>at</strong>e come «P<strong>in</strong>o D’Incenzo».<br />
Sono n<strong>at</strong>o il 17 ottobre 1991 nell’ospedale di Melfi, ma sono di Rionero<br />
<strong>in</strong> Vulture. Sono del segno della Bilancia, il che mi crea non pochi problemi,<br />
cioè sono molto sensibile verso le arti e l’armonia e i miei <strong>in</strong>teressi mi fanno<br />
sentire un alieno fra i miei coetanei…<br />
Teresa: Hai detto che sei port<strong>at</strong>o per l’arte e l’armonia: cosa <strong>in</strong>tendi?<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Mi piace sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto la musica, l’ho sempre avuta <strong>in</strong>torno perché mio fr<strong>at</strong>ello<br />
e mia sorella, f<strong>in</strong>o a quando abitavano a casa, ne ascoltavano tanta. Da<br />
piccolo, la Befana mi regalò un pian<strong>in</strong>o tipo quello che si vede nei fumetti di<br />
Charlie Brown, ma avevo già le dita grosse e non mi riusciva tanto bene, e neppure<br />
per la chitarra le mie dita erano ad<strong>at</strong>te. Sentivo un gran senso del ritmo<br />
e le percussioni <strong>in</strong> genere mi affasc<strong>in</strong>avano… Iniziai prendendo delle pentole<br />
dalla cuc<strong>in</strong>a di mia madre… Le percuotevo con cucchiai di legno, poi mio<br />
fr<strong>at</strong>ello mi raccontò che un suo amico suonava sui fust<strong>in</strong>i del Dash. Questa<br />
passione mi ha port<strong>at</strong>o a fare un po’ di sacrifici per comprarmi una tammorra,<br />
che mi suona meglio e fa parte delle mie tradizioni.<br />
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Teresa: Puoi farci sentire qualcosa?<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Se qualcuno mi aiuta…<br />
Teresa: Beh, noi qui abbiamo un autentico gruppo di briganti lucani…<br />
Si accende lo schermo elastico, dove vengono proiett<strong>at</strong>e immag<strong>in</strong>i della Basilic<strong>at</strong>a,<br />
mentre P<strong>in</strong>o accenna un ritmo con la tammorra.<br />
Teresa: …arrivano dalle coll<strong>in</strong>e e dalle montagne…<br />
Dall’elastico com<strong>in</strong>ciano a uscire tutti i personaggi con strumenti percussivi.<br />
Teresa: …escono dalle grotte, si affacciano dalle torri dei castelli… Si muovono<br />
tra le spighe, gli uliveti, le vigne…<br />
Felisya [mentre si posiziona sul palco]: …sono forti e pieni di speranze…<br />
Lea [raggiungendola]: …hanno voglia di esserci, di lottare, hanno voglia di essere<br />
protagonisti.<br />
Marco [avanza]: Hanno voglia di gridare, di scuotere il mondo.<br />
Lorenzo [avanza]: Hanno voglia di raccontarsi…<br />
Raffaele [avanza]: …raccontare a voi e a tutti le loro storie…<br />
Teresa [avanza]: …le nostre storie e i nostri sogni…<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o [avanza]: …la nostra musica.<br />
Coreografia e canzone f<strong>in</strong>ale Vulesse addeventare di Eugenio Benn<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
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C’era una volta…<br />
Prendendo spunto da un famoso monologo di Gigi Proietti, Una favola, <strong>in</strong><br />
cui un anziano signore si avventura <strong>in</strong> un tradizionale «C’era una volta…», f<strong>in</strong>endo<br />
per confondere storie, situazioni, personaggi, <strong>in</strong> un <strong>in</strong>calzante ritmo comico,<br />
il gruppo degli oper<strong>at</strong>ori e degli allievi di Roma ha ritrascritto, <strong>in</strong> una storia collettiva,<br />
la storia di Cenerentola, una Cenerentola dei nostri giorni…<br />
«Toh! Si spegne un televisore e s’accende un cam<strong>in</strong>o. E perché? Perché dicono che<br />
il televisore abbia sostituito il cam<strong>in</strong>etto nelle case, nelle famiglie, ma non è vero.<br />
Davanti al fuoco una volta si raccontavano le favole, ma ormai i bamb<strong>in</strong>i le conoscono<br />
solo dai cartoni anim<strong>at</strong>i giapponesi. I grandi se le ricordano poco, i vecchi le<br />
confondono» [Gigi Proietti].<br />
…e i giovani? Le reiventano!<br />
Cenerentola a Tor Bella Monaca<br />
AUTORI: Fabrizio Bordignon, Carlotta Leoni, V<strong>in</strong>cenza Loprei<strong>at</strong>o, Sab<strong>in</strong>a Parisi, Simona<br />
Pett<strong>in</strong>ari, Antonio Roma, Paola Ventura<br />
C’era una volta una famiglia che abitava <strong>in</strong> un palazzo al qu<strong>in</strong>to piano di Tor<br />
Bella Monaca, un quartiere periferico e malfam<strong>at</strong>o della città.<br />
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La loro vita trascorreva tranquilla, mentre il padre divideva <strong>in</strong> bust<strong>in</strong>e la coca<strong>in</strong>a,<br />
per poi spacciarla, la m<strong>at</strong>rigna seduta sul divano guardava appassion<strong>at</strong>amente<br />
Uom<strong>in</strong>i e donne alla tv, <strong>in</strong>sieme alle due figlie Chanel e Jessica, che nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo<br />
mandavano messagg<strong>in</strong>i al cellulare e si facevano reciprocamente il french alle<br />
unghie. Giada, la figlia del padre avuta da un precedente m<strong>at</strong>rimonio, chiam<strong>at</strong>a<br />
da tutti Cenerentola, cercava <strong>in</strong>tanto un posto tranquillo dove poter studiare,<br />
ma veniva cont<strong>in</strong>uamente disturb<strong>at</strong>a dalle richiesti <strong>in</strong>cessanti di tutta la famiglia:<br />
«Cenere’ ma ’ndo cazzo stai? Sempre su quei libri de merda!».<br />
Nonostante tutto, Cenerentola cont<strong>in</strong>uava a frequentare con determ<strong>in</strong>azione<br />
la scuola, perché lo studio era la sola cosa di cui le importava e <strong>in</strong> particolare era<br />
appassion<strong>at</strong>a dai corsi tenuti dal simp<strong>at</strong>ico e giovane professore di musica, Spartaco<br />
detto Tito, da spartito. F<strong>in</strong>ché, un brutto brutto giorno, degli uom<strong>in</strong>i di legge<br />
<strong>in</strong> divisa, accompagn<strong>at</strong>i da rabbiosi cani antidroga e capeggi<strong>at</strong>i dall’<strong>in</strong>tegerrimo<br />
capitano Desio Fiamma, irrompono nella casa sfondando la porta e travolgono<br />
la povera Giada, che <strong>in</strong> quel momento studiava nell’unico cantuccio tranquillo<br />
dell’appartamento, situ<strong>at</strong>o proprio dietro la suddetta porta. La nostra povera<br />
Cenerentola, travolta dalle forze dell’ord<strong>in</strong>e, perde conoscenza e si risveglia <strong>in</strong> ospedale<br />
qualche giorno dopo <strong>in</strong> seguito al trauma cranico. Al suo capezzale trova<br />
soltanto il professor Tito, che la guarda con un’espressione preoccup<strong>at</strong>a e le<br />
racconta tutto quello che è successo, dell’ord<strong>in</strong>anza di isolamento del padre stabilita<br />
dopo l’arresto, e dei giorni che lei ha pass<strong>at</strong>o priva di conoscenza.<br />
Appena dimessa dall’ospedale, il giovane l’accompagna a casa e un altro duro<br />
colpo fa vacillare la nostra Cenerentola: la m<strong>at</strong>rigna e le sorellastre hanno preso<br />
possesso della casa relegandola <strong>in</strong> una soffitta picc<strong>in</strong>a picc<strong>in</strong>a. Da quel momento<br />
la sua vita cambia drasticamente, è costretta ad abbandonare la scuola e a portare<br />
avanti l’<strong>at</strong>tività illegale del padre.<br />
I giorni e i mesi passano duramente e per Cenerentola cont<strong>in</strong>ua <strong>in</strong>esorabile la<br />
dura vita tra faccende di casa e lo spaccio nel quartiere. Il professore da tempo<br />
non ha più notizie della bella Cenerentola, ma un giorno, guardando la tv, sente<br />
che stanno cercando dei giovani cantanti per un talent show televisivo, gli viene<br />
l’idea di proporlo alla sua allieva prediletta e si presenta a casa di Cenerentola.<br />
Sull’uscio della porta trova la m<strong>at</strong>rigna c<strong>at</strong>tiva che, senza neanche farlo entrare,<br />
gli dice che da quando hanno port<strong>at</strong>o via il padre non ha più notizie della figliastra,<br />
ma ben contenta dell’<strong>in</strong>vito propone al professore di portare <strong>in</strong> trasmissione<br />
le sue due figlie, spacciandole per straord<strong>in</strong>arie cantanti. A tutta la scena assiste<br />
la portiera T<strong>in</strong>a, detta «la f<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>a», mentre fa le pulizie su per le scale.<br />
Cenerentola non viene <strong>in</strong>form<strong>at</strong>a della visita, e arriv<strong>at</strong>i al f<strong>at</strong>idico giorno dell’esibizione<br />
canora, le sorelle si preparano con fermento, mentre Giada si affretta a<br />
concludere le ultime faccende di casa, conv<strong>in</strong>ta di poter andare <strong>in</strong>sieme a loro.<br />
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Pronte e acconci<strong>at</strong>e, m<strong>at</strong>rigna e sorellastre, si affrettano a uscire, chiudendo malignamente<br />
la porta e lasciando chiusa a chiave dentro la povera Cenerentola. T<strong>in</strong>a<br />
la portiera, sempre <strong>in</strong> ascolto di tutto quello che accade nel palazzo, sente i lamenti<br />
della fanciulla e corre <strong>in</strong> suo aiuto: espertissima com’è ad aprire le porte, la<br />
libera e l’accompagna <strong>in</strong> trasmissione. Intanto il professore, dispiaciuto per l’assenza<br />
della sua allieva prediletta, conduce suo malgrado le sorelle sul palco per esibirsi<br />
<strong>in</strong> Vamos a ballar di Paola e Chiara, ma <strong>in</strong> quel momento arriva Giada, il professore<br />
la vede, e <strong>in</strong> un impeto di gioia scaraventa via le sorellastre, corre a prendere<br />
per mano Cenerentola e la porta dolcemente sul palco, dove rivolgendosi al<br />
pubblico dice: «Ecco a voi la dolcissima Giada con la sua voce melodiosa». Mentre<br />
dalla bocca della dolce fanciulla escono soavi note musicali, che <strong>in</strong>ebriano tutti<br />
i presenti, i loro sguardi pieni d’amore si <strong>in</strong>crociano sulle note di Non abbiam bisogno<br />
di <strong>parole</strong> del grande cantante Ron. Da quel momento i due non staccarono<br />
più i loro sguardi, si amarono perdutamente e vissero felici e contenti.<br />
Cenerentola a C<strong>in</strong>ecittà 2<br />
TESTO DI Giulio Longo, Elisa Ferrazza, Valent<strong>in</strong>a Ricci<br />
RIADATTATO DA Paola Ventura e Lidia Giansanti<br />
C’era una volta <strong>in</strong> un quartiere di Roma, C<strong>in</strong>ecittà 2, una famiglia composta<br />
da: il vero padre Geppetto che faceva il falegname, la m<strong>at</strong>rigna Lasedia che aiutava<br />
il padre <strong>in</strong> falegnameria, le due sorellastre Bà e Bu che studiavano per fare le<br />
estetiste e Cenerentola Laroscia che faceva la casal<strong>in</strong>ga.<br />
Tutta la famiglia passava il tempo a mangiare pasticc<strong>in</strong>i e diventavano tutti<br />
ciccia e brufoli, e le due sorellastre passavano tutto il tempo a litigare tra di loro, e<br />
poi con Cenerentola, dicendosene di tutti i colori. Le due perfide erano gelose di<br />
Cenerentola, perché lei mangiava ma non <strong>in</strong>grassava e perché essendo più bella<br />
di loro aveva i vestiti più belli e andava sempre a ballare con una borsa nera.<br />
Un giorno arrivò l’<strong>in</strong>vito del pr<strong>in</strong>cipe, che chiedeva a Cenerentola di andare a<br />
ballare alla discoteca «una borg<strong>at</strong>a» a C<strong>in</strong>ecittà 2. Cenerentola era felice, ma le sorellastre<br />
<strong>in</strong>vidiose dicevano a Cenerentola di non andare a quel ballo. F<strong>in</strong>o a quando<br />
non <strong>in</strong>tervenne il padre che picchiò le sorellastre e mandò Cenerentola al ballo.<br />
Ma la famiglia era troppo povera e Cenerentola non aveva il vestito. A un certo<br />
punto arrivò la f<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>a, la «signor<strong>in</strong>a buonasera di Canale 5», bionda, bella, annunci<strong>at</strong>rice,<br />
che dice a Cenerentola: «Io sono venuta qui per aiutarti ad andare<br />
al ballo. Non puoi andare con questi stracci addosso, ti aiuto io con la mia bacchetta».<br />
E fu così che fece alla ragazza un vestito elegante a campana, color panna,<br />
firm<strong>at</strong>o Armani, le diede due anelli grossi, trasformò i cani e i g<strong>at</strong>ti <strong>in</strong> sette ca-<br />
99
valli bianchi e un albero <strong>in</strong> una carrozza. Disse però a Cenerentola che entro mezzanotte<br />
doveva stare a casa perché l’<strong>in</strong>canto sarebbe svanito.<br />
Fu così che Cenerentola andò al ballo e <strong>in</strong>contrò il pr<strong>in</strong>cipe Amadeus: si avvic<strong>in</strong>arono,<br />
parlarono, si <strong>in</strong>namorarono e il pr<strong>in</strong>cipe chiese subito alla ragazza di<br />
sposarlo e se volevano mettere su famiglia. Ma mentre ballavano, a Cenerentola<br />
venne il mal di pancia e fu costretta ad andare <strong>in</strong> bagno. Nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo arrivarono<br />
le sorellastre, che andarono da Amadeus e gli dissero che Cenerentola aveva<br />
mangi<strong>at</strong>o troppi dolci e per questo che si era sentita male. Proprio <strong>in</strong> quel momento,<br />
Cenerentola uscì dal bagno e vedendo il suo pr<strong>in</strong>cipe con le c<strong>at</strong>tive sorellastre<br />
litigò con il pr<strong>in</strong>cipe. Amadeus per giustificarsi disse: «Ma pijiamo a ridere<br />
che qua ’a vita è tanto breve!!».<br />
Ma nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo suonò la mezzanotte e Cenerentola scappò via dal ballo perdendo<br />
la scarpetta di cristallo celest<strong>in</strong>a. Ritornò a casa sconsol<strong>at</strong>a e sconvolta e,<br />
<strong>in</strong>contr<strong>at</strong>e le sorellastre, che erano scapp<strong>at</strong>e dalla festa appena vista Cenerentola<br />
uscire dal bagno, disse loro: «Dovev<strong>at</strong>e farvi gli affari vostri!!». Le sorellastre offese<br />
risposero: «Noi saremo pure ciccione, ma se tu cont<strong>in</strong>ui a fare l’acida rimarrai<br />
zitella a vita!».<br />
Il giorno dopo arrivò a casa della famiglia il maggiordomo del pr<strong>in</strong>cipe, che<br />
proprio la sera prima aveva visto Cenerentola perdere la sua scarpetta, e fu così<br />
che il pr<strong>in</strong>cipe ritrovò la sua am<strong>at</strong>a. Il padre fu felice di questo m<strong>at</strong>rimonio, <strong>in</strong>vece<br />
le sorellastre <strong>in</strong>vidiose e gelose no.<br />
Cenerentola e il pr<strong>in</strong>cipe Amadeus si sposarono e festeggiarono con i razzi, ed<br />
ebbero due bamb<strong>in</strong>i: Amadeus Junior e Frankus, e andarono a vivere…<br />
…dentro a una Asl che prima era una stalla (f<strong>in</strong>e di Giulio).<br />
…dentro una reggia ai Parioli (f<strong>in</strong>e di Valent<strong>in</strong>a).<br />
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E tutti vissero felici e contenti.
Dest<strong>in</strong>y and dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ions<br />
ASL RmB (Rome),<br />
Youth Cultural Associ<strong>at</strong>ion «Offic<strong>in</strong>a 2.0» (Canale Monterano – Rome),<br />
Group home «Il giard<strong>in</strong>o di pace» (Rome),<br />
Apofil Rionero-Venosa<br />
WINNING SCRIPT BY<br />
Giulia Barbieri Eduardo, Antonela Brocco, Andreza Carcione, Pasquale Coppola,<br />
Elisa Ferrazza, Giuseppe Gerardi, Giulio Longo, Germana Magagn<strong>in</strong>i,<br />
M<strong>at</strong>teo Marani, Ilaria Morelli, Valent<strong>in</strong>a Ricci, Angelo Vacirca<br />
ADAPTED FOR THE STAGE BY<br />
Fabrizio Bordignon, Carlotta Leoni, V<strong>in</strong>cenza Loprei<strong>at</strong>o, Sab<strong>in</strong>a Parisi,<br />
Simona Pett<strong>in</strong>ari, Antonio Roma, Paola Ventura<br />
Characters<br />
ARTISTIC SUPERVISION BY<br />
Daniela De Lillo<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o, the barman (35-40 years)<br />
Giulia, the aesthetician (30 years)<br />
Maria, the lawyer (32 years)<br />
Rapper (20 years)<br />
Andreza, the mother (25 years)<br />
Angelo, the kid(20 years)<br />
Pietro, the depressed man (25 years)<br />
Elena, the writer(33 years)<br />
We are <strong>in</strong> a bar <strong>at</strong> the airport: voices, emotions and stories <strong>in</strong>tertw<strong>in</strong>e and<br />
overlap <strong>in</strong> the cont<strong>in</strong>uous com<strong>in</strong>gs and go<strong>in</strong>gs of arrivals and departures, desertions<br />
and goodbyes, renewal and transform<strong>at</strong>ion. A depository of words and<br />
thoughts. And N<strong>in</strong>o, the owner of the bar, is a man who has turned his job <strong>in</strong>to<br />
a mission: to listen to others. Dur<strong>in</strong>g a day like any other, one person after another<br />
cycles past his counter, many different faces, many different stories. The story<br />
of Giulia, the aesthetician, who wants to pack it all <strong>in</strong> for a more excit<strong>in</strong>g life and<br />
Maria, the young, up-and-com<strong>in</strong>g lawyer look<strong>in</strong>g for spirituality <strong>in</strong> Delhi. Angelo,<br />
travell<strong>in</strong>g for the first time, search<strong>in</strong>g for why his f<strong>at</strong>her abandoned him.<br />
While Andreza is return<strong>in</strong>g with her son to Brazil, the place where she was born.<br />
101
A group of young people pursue poetry <strong>in</strong> the streets of Berl<strong>in</strong>. The lovesick<br />
Pietro. Elena, her friendship with the barman recently rek<strong>in</strong>dled, thanks to her<br />
diary, has become a well-known writer. N<strong>in</strong>o listens to all of them, to anyone<br />
look<strong>in</strong>g for someth<strong>in</strong>g. But is he look<strong>in</strong>g for anyth<strong>in</strong>g? Maybe for someone who<br />
can persuade him to leave the mythical Luisona, the pastry from the <strong>in</strong>famous<br />
story by Stefano Benni, devoured one f<strong>in</strong>e day by an ignorant customer after be<strong>in</strong>g<br />
left <strong>in</strong> the w<strong>in</strong>dow for an eternity, caus<strong>in</strong>g deep dissent among the other regular<br />
clients and pastry connoisseurs.<br />
Voices and typical airport sounds can be heard. The barman enters the scene, stand<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> front of the closed curta<strong>in</strong>s <strong>in</strong> the forestage. He has a book under his arms, he<br />
looks <strong>at</strong> the audience and says…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Hello, sorry, today I’m really l<strong>at</strong>e. I’ll be right with you. But first, I apologize,<br />
I have to go through my daily rout<strong>in</strong>e. [he opens the book] See this little<br />
book? It’s the barman’s bible… <strong>at</strong> least for me… I just open it up and pick a<br />
page and read it before open<strong>in</strong>g the bar… and from th<strong>at</strong> I know how the day<br />
is go<strong>in</strong>g to go… Wh<strong>at</strong> book is it? Bar Sport by Stefano Benni… a masterpiece!…<br />
So, let’s see wh<strong>at</strong> it has to tell me today…<br />
He flips through the book but cannot decide. He looks <strong>at</strong> the audience.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Ok… see<strong>in</strong>g as you’re all here… you choose… tell me a page number…<br />
Wait, don’t all tell me different numbers… You tell me… yes… you <strong>in</strong> the<br />
third row… you with the nose, ears and mouth… tell me a number… your<br />
lucky number…<br />
He waits for the spect<strong>at</strong>or to tell him a number, then looks for the page and beg<strong>in</strong>s to<br />
read.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: …fantastic! My favorite story… the Luisona! «You hardly ever e<strong>at</strong> <strong>at</strong> a bar.<br />
There’s a showcase full of pastries you can order, but it’s just for show. They’re<br />
ornamental pastries, sometimes examples of true craftsmanship. They’ve<br />
been there for years, so long the regulars know each and every one of them.<br />
When they come <strong>in</strong> they say, “The mer<strong>in</strong>gue is a little off today. Must be the<br />
he<strong>at</strong>”. Or, “It’s time to dust off the doughnuts”. But every now and then the<br />
occasional customer dares to approach the memorial. For <strong>in</strong>stance, once a<br />
sales rep from Milan came <strong>in</strong>. He opened the case and put a huge black and<br />
white pastry <strong>in</strong> his mouth with those wonderful silver spr<strong>in</strong>kles, typical of re-<br />
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ally bad pastries. The people <strong>in</strong> the bar immedi<strong>at</strong>ely started talk<strong>in</strong>g, “Someone<br />
<strong>at</strong>e the Luisona!”. The Luisona was the k<strong>in</strong>g of pastries and had been <strong>in</strong><br />
the case s<strong>in</strong>ce 1959. The old people could tell the we<strong>at</strong>her forecast just by<br />
look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the color of its cream. It’s disappearance was a blow for us all. The<br />
sales rep was asked to leave <strong>in</strong> scorn. No one laid a hand on him because th<strong>at</strong><br />
evil gesture of his was by itself his gre<strong>at</strong>est of punishment. In fact, he was<br />
found just an hour l<strong>at</strong>er <strong>in</strong> the toilet of a motorway café <strong>in</strong> Modena <strong>in</strong> terrible<br />
pa<strong>in</strong>. The Luisona got its revenge». Beautiful story, don’t you th<strong>in</strong>k? Who<br />
knows who my Luisona will be…<br />
The noise <strong>in</strong>creases while a loudspeaker announces a flight land<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Oh my! The flight from Berl<strong>in</strong> has just landed… So it really is l<strong>at</strong>e… I<br />
hear troops of passengers com<strong>in</strong>g… And let the day beg<strong>in</strong>… to N<strong>in</strong>o’s dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
the stopover… juice and delicious, fresh pastries… except for the Luisona,<br />
n<strong>at</strong>urally, forever buried <strong>in</strong> the bowels of the gluttonous sales rep!<br />
The curta<strong>in</strong>s open to a choreography of people walk<strong>in</strong>g through the airport, arrivals<br />
and departures. F<strong>in</strong>ally, we see the barman <strong>at</strong> his counter <strong>in</strong> his uniform, tidy<strong>in</strong>g up.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: For those of you who don’t know, the word bar comes from the English<br />
word barrier. In fact, dur<strong>in</strong>g the first coloniz<strong>at</strong>ion of South America, <strong>in</strong> the<br />
dives and taverns, the corner reserved for the sale of alcohol was deliber<strong>at</strong>ely<br />
separ<strong>at</strong>ed from the rest of the place by a bar, and th<strong>at</strong>’s where the word bar<br />
comes from. But other people believe th<strong>at</strong> the word is short for barred because<br />
<strong>in</strong> the n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century, when the sale of alcohol was prohibited <strong>in</strong> England,<br />
a board was nailed across the shops with the word barred pa<strong>in</strong>ted on it.<br />
Here <strong>in</strong> Italy, by bar we mean essentially a place where ma<strong>in</strong>ly alcoholic and<br />
non-alcoholic beverages are served and consumed, <strong>in</strong> particular coffee, cappucc<strong>in</strong>o<br />
and hot chocol<strong>at</strong>e, <strong>in</strong> addition to th<strong>in</strong>gs like little pizzas, sandwiches,<br />
croissants, pastries like Benni’s and several other sweet and savory th<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
The barman beg<strong>in</strong>s dry<strong>in</strong>g glasses. Giulia enters.<br />
Giulia: Good morn<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Good morn<strong>in</strong>g to you!<br />
Giulia immedi<strong>at</strong>ely heads for a table where she leaves her trolley with an enormous<br />
toiletries bag on top. She is well-dressed, very young and dynamic. She does everyth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
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quickly and nervously though she communic<strong>at</strong>es happ<strong>in</strong>ess. She addresses the barman<br />
with a 360 degree smile.<br />
Giulia: A cappucc<strong>in</strong>o, a croissant and a glass of w<strong>at</strong>er, otherwise I won’t wake up<br />
this morn<strong>in</strong>g. Thank you.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: I’ll br<strong>in</strong>g it right over to you!<br />
Giulia opens her toiletries bag and fixes her make-up, light but effective. In the meantime,<br />
the barman approaches and puts her breakfast on the table. Giulia takes a sip<br />
of w<strong>at</strong>er with her usual smile, anxious to do everyth<strong>in</strong>g she has <strong>in</strong> m<strong>in</strong>d.<br />
Giulia: Do you know wh<strong>at</strong> time the travel agency opens?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: At 9, usually.<br />
Giulia: Ok, if you don’t m<strong>in</strong>d, I’ll just wait here.<br />
She takes out a notebook, a pen, two envelops and two stamps and beg<strong>in</strong>s writ<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Maria, an up-and-com<strong>in</strong>g lawyer, runs <strong>in</strong> with a flashy Louis Vuitton bag.<br />
Maria: My God, I was almost l<strong>at</strong>e gett<strong>in</strong>g here too… just <strong>in</strong> time before they<br />
closed the check-<strong>in</strong>… [to the barman] A g<strong>in</strong>seng, thank you!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Com<strong>in</strong>g up!<br />
Maria [to the barman, who she will be talk<strong>in</strong>g to from now on]: In your op<strong>in</strong>ion,<br />
am I dressed right for India?<br />
The barman looks <strong>at</strong> her dumbfounded.<br />
Maria: No, excuse me, it’s just th<strong>at</strong> I’m a little anxious… if you only knew…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [to himself]: Let the day beg<strong>in</strong>!<br />
Maria: Wh<strong>at</strong> did you say?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: No, I was say<strong>in</strong>g… has it been a bad day?<br />
Maria: No, not really… Today’s been historic, memorable, unexpected,<br />
strange, aggressive, unforeseen, surpris<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Here you are… [hand<strong>in</strong>g her the glass to her]<br />
Maria: Huh?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: …your g<strong>in</strong>seng…<br />
Maria: Oh, yes, thank you! I like g<strong>in</strong>seng… It picks me up… wh<strong>at</strong> do you th<strong>in</strong>k,<br />
will I be able to f<strong>in</strong>d it <strong>in</strong> India?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: I would th<strong>in</strong>k so. But if I were you, I wouldn’t dr<strong>in</strong>k too much of it!<br />
Maria: Do I look anxious to you? [look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the barman astonished]<br />
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N<strong>in</strong>o [almost <strong>def</strong>ensively]: You said you were anxious… a surpris<strong>in</strong>g day… aggressive…<br />
Maria [ignor<strong>in</strong>g him]: You see, it all began yesterday morn<strong>in</strong>g… I told myself<br />
«Do I go <strong>in</strong> or not? Now, wh<strong>at</strong> excuse am I go<strong>in</strong>g to give him? Th<strong>at</strong> for the<br />
umpteenth time I was l<strong>at</strong>e and hadn’t even f<strong>in</strong>ished the reports… or the appeals<br />
files… or the document<strong>at</strong>ion of Mr. Prest<strong>in</strong>ari, Prast<strong>in</strong>ari…», I can never<br />
remember his name… Anyway, I th<strong>in</strong>k it’s Prest<strong>in</strong>ari… to hell with him<br />
and his name… So, right <strong>in</strong> front of the boss’s door…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [curious]: Right <strong>in</strong> front of the boss’s door…<br />
Maria [star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> him]: …«they can all just go to hell!», I told myself. I turned on<br />
my heels and went home, to my little nest, the only place where I can walk<br />
around barefoot, naked, my hair a mess, without perfect make-up… no<br />
mand<strong>at</strong>ory smiles… fuck you all!!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Fuck you!<br />
Maria [firey]: Excuse me?! Fuck you to who?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Fuck you… You said it… <strong>at</strong> home… no mand<strong>at</strong>ory smiles… fuck you.<br />
Maria [ignor<strong>in</strong>g him aga<strong>in</strong>]: …yes, right, my little home, my little corner of freedom…<br />
I thought it would be enough and… <strong>in</strong>stead… Look, believe me, it’s<br />
<strong>in</strong>credible… not even my little hideout is safe anymore… I looked <strong>at</strong> myself <strong>in</strong><br />
the b<strong>at</strong>hroom mirror… [tak<strong>in</strong>g a little mirror out of her purse and ty<strong>in</strong>g her hair<br />
back <strong>in</strong> a ponytail] «Maria… wh<strong>at</strong> are you runn<strong>in</strong>g from? From this ord<strong>in</strong>ary<br />
life? Designer cloth<strong>in</strong>g?» [clos<strong>in</strong>g the little mirror and walk<strong>in</strong>g nervously around<br />
the stools <strong>in</strong> front of the counter while the barman constantly moves her glass from<br />
one stool to another, follow<strong>in</strong>g her with his eyes] Wh<strong>at</strong> are you runn<strong>in</strong>g from<br />
Maria? From your boss, from your total dedic<strong>at</strong>ion to your job… the protocol<br />
to follow, always the same, same hours, same formalities, same cocktails, same<br />
out<strong>in</strong>gs with friends, pub, c<strong>in</strong>ema, discos… and your life pass<strong>in</strong>g by before<br />
your eyes… your ambitious family, the years of study to become a lawyer, the<br />
imp<strong>at</strong>ience, the thousands of little jobs so you didn’t have to rely on your parents…<br />
feel<strong>in</strong>gs of guilt… rel<strong>at</strong>ionships… disappo<strong>in</strong>tments… and aga<strong>in</strong> tak<strong>in</strong>g<br />
refuge <strong>in</strong> your job… the job you dreamed of as a child… th<strong>at</strong> now just isn’t<br />
enough! Well…? You aren’t go<strong>in</strong>g to answer me?… Wh<strong>at</strong> are you runn<strong>in</strong>g<br />
from…? From yourself…? Answer me… come on, answer me… answer me…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Lady, please, calm down!<br />
Maria [sitt<strong>in</strong>g comfortably down on the first stool and aga<strong>in</strong> open<strong>in</strong>g her bag]: But<br />
I’m very calm… I’ve figured it all out, you know? I have the answer to my<br />
questions… Now, I know… «I’m not runn<strong>in</strong>g away from myself… but toward<br />
myself»… This simple phrase is just wh<strong>at</strong> I told myself yesterday… It<br />
must have been three <strong>in</strong> the afternoon… I remember because, right then and<br />
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there, I took off my w<strong>at</strong>ch… my precious Rolex… It ended up <strong>in</strong> the garbage<br />
can… [the barman shivers]… I’ve changed… I withdrew my entire sav<strong>in</strong>gs…<br />
I ran to the travel agency and bought a ticket to Delhi, one way. Then I picked<br />
up my mobile and cancelled all the numbers except for one… the one for the<br />
taxi service… I booked a taxi for 7 this morn<strong>in</strong>g and here I am…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: But, are you sure you know wh<strong>at</strong> you’re do<strong>in</strong>g? And then, your Rolex <strong>in</strong><br />
the garbage can! To me, it looks like you’ve got a pretty good life…<br />
Maria: Wh<strong>at</strong>, are you jok<strong>in</strong>g? You try and live like this… Anyway, I’m not my<br />
life! I need to make a choice. Why did I choose Delhi? Because it’s totally different:<br />
language, culture, food… There I’ll f<strong>in</strong>ally be able to start over. An <strong>in</strong>trospective<br />
trip?! [po<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> him with her gaze] From now on I want to look<br />
people <strong>in</strong> the face… but <strong>in</strong> a different way… <strong>in</strong> a real way… without makeup,<br />
with my hair a mess, without the mand<strong>at</strong>ory smiles, without designer<br />
clothes…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [po<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> her Louis Vuitton]: …but maybe with just a few exceptions…<br />
Maria: Are you talk<strong>in</strong>g about this?!?! [she smiles] My Louis Vuitton!! I need<br />
this… I need it to remember who I was… and to never forget wh<strong>at</strong> I want to<br />
be… [she f<strong>in</strong>ishes her g<strong>in</strong>seng] How much is it…?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Two euros…<br />
Maria: Here… [she gives him a banknote and steps away]<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: And your change?<br />
Maria: It’s not important anymore…<br />
Maria boldly walks out. All throughout the convers<strong>at</strong>ion between the lawyer and the<br />
barman, Giulia has cont<strong>in</strong>ued to write and tear up sheets of paper, listen<strong>in</strong>g carefully<br />
to wh<strong>at</strong> Maria says s<strong>in</strong>ce she feels close to her because of her decision to leave.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Her Rolex <strong>in</strong> the garbage… if you ask me, before leav<strong>in</strong>g for Delhi, I’d<br />
make her spend a day <strong>in</strong>side this place… Th<strong>at</strong> way she could practice look<strong>in</strong>g<br />
people <strong>in</strong> the eye!<br />
Giulia: I th<strong>in</strong>k a woman like her is courageous! She th<strong>in</strong>ks India might be a good<br />
place to sort out your life? India, India, India. Yea, right, out of everyth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong><br />
her story, I could use her spirituality. But then, I don’t even need spirituality…<br />
I want to have fun, hang out with friends… Wh<strong>at</strong> do I need a space for<br />
<strong>in</strong>trospection for? I’ve been alone enough <strong>in</strong> my life. Even though <strong>in</strong> my job I<br />
meet plenty of people… You know… I’m an aesthetician… People, I look <strong>at</strong><br />
their faces through a microscope… When I’m lucky, because when I’m not,<br />
I look <strong>at</strong> nails, feet… thighs and butts… Oh, forget it! It might seem strange,<br />
but I’m look<strong>in</strong>g for new horizons too!<br />
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N<strong>in</strong>o: Everyone here is look<strong>in</strong>g for someth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Giulia: And you… Wh<strong>at</strong>’s your name?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: N<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Giulia: And you, N<strong>in</strong>o… Wh<strong>at</strong> are you look<strong>in</strong>g for?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Are we on a first name basis now?<br />
Giulia: You’re about my age, aren’t you! So, are you look<strong>in</strong>g for someth<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Look, normally I listen to people’s stories, I don’t tell them! Everyday lots<br />
of people sit <strong>at</strong> my counter, leav<strong>in</strong>g, com<strong>in</strong>g back, leav<strong>in</strong>g aga<strong>in</strong>, while I’m always<br />
here. I don’t move, immobile <strong>in</strong> this timeless place, go<strong>in</strong>g through the<br />
same motions every day. But I like this life! [he reaches for a broom and beg<strong>in</strong>s<br />
to sweep] A bar is a fantastic place, a meet<strong>in</strong>g place for mysterious customers.<br />
Every one of them has someth<strong>in</strong>g to leave for you… besides just pastry<br />
crumbs on the floor…<br />
Giulia: Sorry… but this croissant is so… When it’s fresh… because these days it<br />
just isn’t easy to f<strong>in</strong>d fresh croissant…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: It’s all <strong>in</strong> the present<strong>at</strong>ion… like the Luisona…<br />
Giulia: The Luisona?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: It an old story… <strong>in</strong> an old bar…<br />
A very altern<strong>at</strong>ive-look<strong>in</strong>g boy walks <strong>in</strong>. He moves danc<strong>in</strong>g to the music he is listen<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to on the earphones of his iPod. He approaches the counter.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Yes, wh<strong>at</strong> can I get for you?<br />
The boy keeps mov<strong>in</strong>g, not answer<strong>in</strong>g. The barman gestures for him to take off his<br />
earphones. The boy takes one off.<br />
Rapper: Yea? Wh<strong>at</strong> do you want?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [rais<strong>in</strong>g his voice]: Can I get you anyth<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Rapper: Coke and sandwiches… for five.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: For five?<br />
Rapper: For me and my friends… to Berl<strong>in</strong> we’re go<strong>in</strong>g, a story we’re tell<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
to the g<strong>at</strong>her<strong>in</strong>g of the poets, <strong>in</strong> the streets we are the prophets… a story we<br />
will tell, about a man and his hell, crushed and sh<strong>at</strong>tered by anxiety, he searches<br />
the sky for a six story tree…<br />
While Giulia and the barman w<strong>at</strong>ch him bewildered, the rest of the group comes <strong>in</strong><br />
and beg<strong>in</strong>s rapp<strong>in</strong>g along with him. As they are rapp<strong>in</strong>g, the other customers, <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Andreza, a young Brazilian woman, gradually beg<strong>in</strong> danc<strong>in</strong>g with them.<br />
107
108<br />
Rapper: Mr. Rocco Piano<br />
A lawyer from Pantano<br />
From his name he seems sane<br />
Though he looks a little strange.<br />
One f<strong>in</strong>e day<br />
Stuck <strong>in</strong> traffic<br />
Suck<strong>in</strong>’ fumes<br />
It was tragic<br />
He cranks up the radio<br />
Search<strong>in</strong>’ for a little glow<br />
He looks up, oh me<br />
This is truly poetry<br />
Mark my poetry<br />
I a<strong>in</strong>’t writ<strong>in</strong>’ fantasy<br />
Fantasy likes the search<br />
There’s no green and it hurts<br />
We only see a bit of green<br />
In traffic lights and <strong>in</strong> tea<br />
Not <strong>in</strong> this rap or the be<strong>at</strong><br />
of this jungle concrete<br />
At dusk he was wish<strong>in</strong>’<br />
then one even<strong>in</strong>g he’s th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>’<br />
of his uncle’s memories<br />
And the presence of the trees<br />
Many years have gone past<br />
Birthdays, New Years go fast<br />
When he was still <strong>in</strong> Napoli<br />
And the air he bre<strong>at</strong>hed.<br />
He bre<strong>at</strong>hed the fresh, clean air<br />
Just as n<strong>at</strong>ure declared<br />
He was chimera fish<strong>in</strong>g<br />
For the spr<strong>in</strong>g he was wait<strong>in</strong>g
His dear uncle wait<strong>in</strong>g, wish<strong>in</strong>g<br />
As the even<strong>in</strong>g beg<strong>in</strong>s near<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Among the build<strong>in</strong>gs and the streets<br />
There’s no sign of the trees<br />
So now it’s up to me<br />
To sit here wait<strong>in</strong>g, gloomily<br />
To get to the sixth floor<br />
Where green is not the norm<br />
Why to see it is rare<br />
is ‘cause this color isn’t there<br />
we’re search<strong>in</strong>g for the color green<br />
Rocco Piano, you and me.<br />
Everybody applauds. The rappers pass the h<strong>at</strong> and then go to the barman and dump<br />
the contents on the counter.<br />
Rapper: Th<strong>at</strong> enough for the snack?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: It’s enough, it’s enough! My compliments and good luck on your trip. Let<br />
me know how it went… when you come back.<br />
Rapper: Don’t th<strong>in</strong>k when we get back / For us it’s enough if we rap!<br />
The rappers and customers walk away. Andreza stays, the Brazilian girl.<br />
Giulia [to Andreza]: Aren’t you go<strong>in</strong>g? Do you want to miss your plane?<br />
Andreza: But I’m not with them. I’m not go<strong>in</strong>g to Berl<strong>in</strong>. I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to Brazil. I<br />
was born there. I’m go<strong>in</strong>g back after more than twenty years!<br />
Giulia: How excit<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
The light closes <strong>in</strong> around Andreza, cre<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g an ambiance of remembrance. Background<br />
music.<br />
Andreza: I still remember the day of my departure. As if it were today. Rio de<br />
Janeiro airport… full of people <strong>in</strong> a hurry, walk<strong>in</strong>g fast… some go<strong>in</strong>g forward,<br />
some go<strong>in</strong>g backward… Where are all these people go<strong>in</strong>g… But, more<br />
than anyth<strong>in</strong>g, where am I go<strong>in</strong>g? And then, wh<strong>at</strong>’s th<strong>at</strong>? Where is th<strong>at</strong> th<strong>in</strong>g<br />
they say flies?… I don’t get it… Now we have to get <strong>in</strong> another l<strong>in</strong>e… We<br />
have to leave our bags… But, I mean, if we’re leav<strong>in</strong>g, why can’t our bags<br />
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come with us? These two guys keep<strong>in</strong>g talk<strong>in</strong>g to me <strong>in</strong> their stupid language…<br />
Haven’t they figured out th<strong>at</strong> I don’t understand a word of wh<strong>at</strong><br />
they’re say<strong>in</strong>g? Next to me there’s another little boy more or less my same age.<br />
He doesn’t say a word… They told me he’s my brother. They were the ones<br />
who said it, the nuns from the orphanage. He’s Brazilian too but I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k<br />
he looks a th<strong>in</strong>g like me… The two people who took us away, «your new parents»<br />
the nuns said… These two «parents» look <strong>at</strong> me and smile… Maybe<br />
they’re happy… Or maybe… they th<strong>in</strong>k the look on my face is funny… I<br />
must really look lost… I feel lost… Am I still <strong>in</strong> Brazil? Because the car trip<br />
from the orphanage to here was really long… Maybe I’m already <strong>in</strong> Italy<br />
where they said we’re go<strong>in</strong>g… But no… They said we have to get on someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
th<strong>at</strong> flies through the sky… Someth<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> flies th<strong>at</strong> isn’t a bird… I’ve<br />
never seen anyth<strong>in</strong>g fly, much less an object. Maybe they’re play<strong>in</strong>g a trick on<br />
me… We get to a k<strong>in</strong>d of long belt th<strong>at</strong> moves… Wh<strong>at</strong> k<strong>in</strong>d of witchcraft is<br />
this? Where have I ended up? I don’t want to get on top of th<strong>at</strong> th<strong>in</strong>g… I<br />
might end up <strong>in</strong> th<strong>at</strong> hole! But Andreza, calm down… The other people gett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
on it aren’t afraid… They’re all calm… and they let themselves go…<br />
Light on a l<strong>in</strong>e of drums th<strong>at</strong> the musicians beg<strong>in</strong> to play dur<strong>in</strong>g Andreza’s lively story.<br />
Andreza: They drag me off aga<strong>in</strong>… this time <strong>in</strong> front of me there’s an enormous<br />
clear<strong>in</strong>g… And… I can’t believe my eyes… those th<strong>in</strong>gs way down there, wh<strong>at</strong><br />
are they? And wh<strong>at</strong>’s th<strong>at</strong> noise over my head… It’s too loud… Wh<strong>at</strong>’s go<strong>in</strong>g<br />
on?… I lift my head and see th<strong>at</strong> one of those fly<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>in</strong>gs is exactly like the<br />
mach<strong>in</strong>e right <strong>in</strong> front of me. How can someth<strong>in</strong>g so huge and heavy fly<br />
through the air like a bird?… And if it e<strong>at</strong>s me up?… This kid just doesn’t say<br />
a th<strong>in</strong>g… He’s just happy if he gets someth<strong>in</strong>g to e<strong>at</strong>… He scrambles after<br />
every little crumb… even off the ground… He can’t be my brother… We take<br />
another car… This time it’s big… and lots of people get <strong>in</strong>side… But a place<br />
like this, how is it th<strong>at</strong> I’ve never seen it? Full of strange mach<strong>in</strong>es… of people<br />
walk<strong>in</strong>g fast like lun<strong>at</strong>ics… all these l<strong>in</strong>es just to give people a piece of paper…<br />
all these shops… the belt th<strong>at</strong> moves… and these enormous metal birds with<br />
w<strong>in</strong>gs bigger than an eagle’s fly<strong>in</strong>g through the sky… I bet my friends from the<br />
orphanage have never seen anyth<strong>in</strong>g like this! If I told them about it, they’d<br />
never believe me… Wait, wh<strong>at</strong>’s this woman do<strong>in</strong>g? Now she’s tak<strong>in</strong>g my<br />
hand… Every now and then she turns and shouts someth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> her language…<br />
My heart moves up <strong>in</strong>to my mouth… We’re under the plane… People<br />
are go<strong>in</strong>g up the little stairs th<strong>at</strong> move… They go <strong>in</strong>side an enormous<br />
tube… and go <strong>in</strong>side th<strong>at</strong> big th<strong>in</strong>g… Now it’s my turn, but I’m scared… And<br />
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wh<strong>at</strong> if while we’re fly<strong>in</strong>g another bird runs <strong>in</strong>to it and we fall to the ground? I<br />
don’t know why I suddenly turn around… I want to go back, run far away…<br />
But if I go back, I go back to the orphanage, and I don’t… want to go back to<br />
th<strong>at</strong> place. Ok, almost there… We’re <strong>in</strong>… But, it’s a little cramped <strong>in</strong> here…<br />
From the outside it looks bigger… And then why are there all these chairs?<br />
These are strange chairs, they aren’t made of wood… They’re big, high… and<br />
all the same color… All the same… But they’re comfortable… a little fuzzy…<br />
but comfortable… The w<strong>in</strong>dows are small, they hardly let you see anyth<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
There it is aga<strong>in</strong>, the <strong>in</strong>visible voice… Man, they talk a lot… We wait a long<br />
time… I fall asleep… When I wake up, a strange th<strong>in</strong>g is fastened around my<br />
waist… The woman next to me is sleep<strong>in</strong>g and th<strong>at</strong> kid has stopped e<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g and<br />
is star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> me… I put these little th<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>in</strong> my ears, like the guy next to me…<br />
and I hear music… beautiful music… like magic… I fall asleep aga<strong>in</strong>… while<br />
I imag<strong>in</strong>e wh<strong>at</strong> other k<strong>in</strong>ds of witchcraft await me…<br />
Light change. Music fades. Andreza sits down next to Giulia and orders a coffee.<br />
Giulia: Excuse me if I <strong>in</strong>terrupt you… but your story is really <strong>in</strong>terest<strong>in</strong>g… You<br />
lived <strong>in</strong> an orphanage? In a forest?<br />
Andreza: Yes, and it wasn’t so gre<strong>at</strong>! I was seven years old. Th<strong>at</strong> journey opened<br />
the way for another journey th<strong>at</strong>, through struggle and suffer<strong>in</strong>g, made me the<br />
woman I am today… It hasn’t been easy… Those parents weren’t so gre<strong>at</strong>…<br />
but now it’s go<strong>in</strong>g better. Now I have him!<br />
Giulia: Your boyfriend?<br />
Andreza: My son, Jamail. In th<strong>at</strong> August 1992, when I set foot on th<strong>at</strong> airplane,<br />
th<strong>at</strong> enormous, frighten<strong>in</strong>g mach<strong>in</strong>e, my dest<strong>in</strong>y was decided… Now I know<br />
th<strong>at</strong>, await<strong>in</strong>g my arrival, beyond the ocean, was a treasure only for me… My<br />
dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion is right here, now, today, this moment. Tomorrow is today. It is<br />
Andreza and Jamail. And now we are both go<strong>in</strong>g to my country together…<br />
[she gets up and po<strong>in</strong>ts <strong>at</strong> someth<strong>in</strong>g] There he is, do you see him? He’s wav<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to me! I’ve got to go! Th<strong>at</strong> scary metal bird is wait<strong>in</strong>g for us! How much do I<br />
owe you?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: It’s on the house!!! Bon voyage!<br />
Andreza: Thank you!<br />
Giulia: And say hello to Jamail for us!<br />
Andreza exits.<br />
Giulia: You sure are right! You see it all <strong>in</strong> this bar!<br />
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N<strong>in</strong>o [smil<strong>in</strong>g]: Stories… I told you, and the stories are noth<strong>in</strong>g but the people<br />
and the people are always unique… I’m always fasc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ed to see and hear… I<br />
try to understand who’s a tourist and who’s a traveller! I actually have a c<strong>at</strong>alog<br />
of different k<strong>in</strong>ds of people… <strong>def</strong><strong>in</strong>itions for all different types of passengers…<br />
Giulia: And me? Wh<strong>at</strong> k<strong>in</strong>d of passenger am I?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: At first glance, I’d say you aren’t a passenger yet. You told me you’ve got a<br />
dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion, but your dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion is more <strong>in</strong> your head than <strong>in</strong> the sky.<br />
Though you’re hid<strong>in</strong>g a good dose of courage which might just make you get<br />
on the first plane you see and take off.<br />
Giulia: You’re probably right, I’d better look <strong>in</strong>side myself for my dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion…<br />
You need courage to do th<strong>at</strong> too… But look, I suddenly feel old and I don’t<br />
want to get old without hav<strong>in</strong>g lived. The woman who was here earlier left a<br />
comfortable life to go f<strong>in</strong>d herself <strong>in</strong> DELHI, Andreza made her son her dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion,<br />
those kids try to see the poetry <strong>in</strong> everyth<strong>in</strong>g, and me?<br />
While the two are ch<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g, Angelo comes <strong>in</strong> and goes to sit <strong>at</strong> a table, but then he immedi<strong>at</strong>ely<br />
gets back up. He repe<strong>at</strong>s this gesture many times.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: «You never leave a place without first dream<strong>in</strong>g of another place and, vice<br />
versa, without travell<strong>in</strong>g sooner or l<strong>at</strong>er all dreams end or you are forever<br />
trapped <strong>in</strong>side the same dream», Wim Wenders… Anyway, it seems a tad<br />
complic<strong>at</strong>ed. I’m better <strong>at</strong> recogniz<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong>titudes… say, unorig<strong>in</strong>al, simple <strong>at</strong>titudes.<br />
Take this guy walk<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>, it’s clear… obvious…<br />
Giulia: Wh<strong>at</strong>?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Come on, look <strong>at</strong> him closely. You can see it.<br />
Giulia: I don’t get it.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: It’s his first time! And he’s freak<strong>in</strong>g scared!<br />
The two of them smile and Angelo, realiz<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> they are look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> him, shyly walks<br />
toward the barman.<br />
Angelo: Hi, I’m Angelo… Well, not th<strong>at</strong> it should <strong>in</strong>terest you, it’s just th<strong>at</strong> I always<br />
<strong>in</strong>troduce myself…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: I’m N<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Angelo: Can I have a glass of w<strong>at</strong>er… N<strong>in</strong>o? [approach<strong>in</strong>g Giulia’s table]… Nice<br />
bag, is it a Trussardi? You know, ever s<strong>in</strong>ce I was a boy I’ve been modell<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Trussardi cloth<strong>in</strong>g? [embarrassed] Anyway, hi, I didn’t even <strong>in</strong>troduce myself.<br />
Angelo, it’s a pleasure.<br />
112
He extends his hand. She extends her hand <strong>in</strong> disbelief and amusement and <strong>in</strong>troduces<br />
herself with a big handshake.<br />
Giulia: I’m Giulia, my pleasure!… Are you about to leave? And where are you<br />
go<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Here’s your w<strong>at</strong>er!<br />
Angelo walks toward the counter, nervously look<strong>in</strong>g for someth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> his pocket.<br />
Angelo [to the barman]: Thanks! [tak<strong>in</strong>g a little tube out of his pocket]… Listen,<br />
excuse me Sir or N<strong>in</strong>o, can I call you N<strong>in</strong>o? [without wait<strong>in</strong>g for the barman’s<br />
answer] How many should I take <strong>in</strong> your op<strong>in</strong>ion? [referr<strong>in</strong>g to the pills he is<br />
shak<strong>in</strong>g out of the little tube]<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: It depends.<br />
Angelo [his voice shak<strong>in</strong>g]: On whaaa<strong>at</strong>?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Do you just want to relax or do you really want to sleep?<br />
Angelo: I don’t even want to know I’m fly<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: It’s your first time, isn’t it? [smil<strong>in</strong>g to Giulia who smiles back <strong>at</strong> him know<strong>in</strong>gly]<br />
One should be enough, those th<strong>in</strong>gs are strong! They work. Trust me.<br />
I, about these th<strong>in</strong>gs… uhhhhh… Everyday…<br />
Angelo: Ok, thanks.<br />
While Angelo is walk<strong>in</strong>g toward the table with the glass on one side and the pills on<br />
the other, Giulia gets up and walks toward the counter, visibly irrit<strong>at</strong>ed.<br />
Giulia [to the barman]: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you do<strong>in</strong>g? Are you crazy? He’s so young! Wh<strong>at</strong><br />
are you tell<strong>in</strong>g him to take?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Well, yes, I’m a snake charmer… Come on, I’m jok<strong>in</strong>g! Those pills are just<br />
herbs… valerian… But everyone knows, <strong>in</strong> life believ<strong>in</strong>g is enough! Or isn’t it?<br />
Giulia: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you mean?<br />
Giulia returns to her table and tries to tidy up some loose sheets of paper. The barman<br />
laughs. Angelo dram<strong>at</strong>ically swallows the pill and his body immedi<strong>at</strong>ely relaxes. Then<br />
whisper<strong>in</strong>g to himself:<br />
Angelo: If he were here now, I’d look him straight <strong>in</strong> the eyes and vomit up all<br />
the h<strong>at</strong>e I feel for him. I might even hit him, like he hit mom. Just look <strong>at</strong><br />
me… Would you believe I could ru<strong>in</strong> the most important day of my life because<br />
of th<strong>at</strong> asshole f<strong>at</strong>her of m<strong>in</strong>e! It took me so long just to decide to leave<br />
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and now th<strong>at</strong> I’m here wh<strong>at</strong> do I do???? I th<strong>in</strong>k about my f<strong>at</strong>her! My f<strong>at</strong>her?!<br />
The fact is, I still can’t figure out why he abandoned me, <strong>at</strong> four years old.<br />
How can you go and do a th<strong>in</strong>g like th<strong>at</strong>? [turn<strong>in</strong>g to Giulia and the barman]<br />
In your op<strong>in</strong>ion, how can you leave a four year old boy? He, my f<strong>at</strong>her, just<br />
got tired. He got tired of hav<strong>in</strong>g a family. Sure! There you go! You get tired,<br />
you take your family and you kick them out of the house, out of your life. But<br />
then, wh<strong>at</strong> do I care, I don’t even th<strong>in</strong>k about him!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [to Giulia]: Maybe I should’ve given him someth<strong>in</strong>g stronger…<br />
Giulia gets up, contemptuous of the barman, and sits down <strong>at</strong> Angelo’s table.<br />
Giulia: Angelo, I’m sorry about wh<strong>at</strong> happened to you…<br />
Angelo [cont<strong>in</strong>u<strong>in</strong>g with wh<strong>at</strong> he was say<strong>in</strong>g]: Luckily mom found Carlo! He’s a<br />
real nice guy. Carlo’s gre<strong>at</strong>! Gre<strong>at</strong>! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here…<br />
and I can’t relax! I’m scared [he gets up and walks around the bar].<br />
Giulia: It’s normal… it’s the first time!<br />
Angelo [gett<strong>in</strong>g himself together]: Wh<strong>at</strong>? Oh, yes. Yes. it’s my first time. I’ve never…<br />
[cont<strong>in</strong>u<strong>in</strong>g to walk] Before, I never had the guts. Now, I’m ready<br />
though. It’s just I’m afraid of gett<strong>in</strong>g airsick. My mother gets airsick. Maybe<br />
it’s hereditary! [smil<strong>in</strong>g] My mother, she did so many wonderful th<strong>in</strong>gs for us,<br />
for my brother Alessandro and I! She raised us by herself. I could write a book<br />
about my mother [approach<strong>in</strong>g Giulia’s table and look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> her bag] and if I<br />
th<strong>in</strong>k about it… It wasn’t Trussardi. No, yes, yes! It was Trussardi. My brother<br />
and I were just gorgeous on th<strong>at</strong> runway, so many people! At least two thousand<br />
people admir<strong>in</strong>g us. People clapped, my rel<strong>at</strong>ives took tons of pictures of<br />
us and gave us tons of compliments. It was a beautiful day.<br />
Music. Angelo turns his back to the audience and old photos and videos of the two<br />
brothers are projected while on the stage there is choreography. Angelo turns to Giulia<br />
and the video and music stop.<br />
Angelo: If it weren’t for Carlo, I wouldn’t even have left today. He’s my true f<strong>at</strong>her.<br />
I can’t wait to get there.<br />
Giulia [turn<strong>in</strong>g back to her table]: And where are you go<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Angelo: Where am I go<strong>in</strong>g? Well, I left from Senigallia, no, from Oriolo, no,<br />
from Cesano and I was even born <strong>in</strong> Cesano. [laugh<strong>in</strong>g] No, sorry, <strong>in</strong> Senigallia.<br />
Senigallia, and I f<strong>in</strong>ally decided to leave. Actually, I didn’t decide just now.<br />
I’ve been th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g about it forever. Now, enough of th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g about it, I’m go<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Carlo gave me the ticket.<br />
114
Giulia [irrit<strong>at</strong>ed]: Yes, but where is it th<strong>at</strong> you’re go<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Angelo: My f<strong>at</strong>her, not Carlo. The other one… my real f<strong>at</strong>her… is a very famous<br />
surgeon… Sometimes I imag<strong>in</strong>e hav<strong>in</strong>g an accident and be<strong>in</strong>g rushed to the<br />
emergency room, taken to the oper<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g room, go<strong>in</strong>g under the knife… <strong>in</strong>to<br />
the hands of my f<strong>at</strong>her, but he doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t know how<br />
my face has changed… I’m an adult, the adult who has taken the place of th<strong>at</strong><br />
four year old child, stand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> the doorway wav<strong>in</strong>g to him… Then, like <strong>in</strong> a<br />
movie, he recognizes this big birthmark I have on my belly and then he cries<br />
and does everyth<strong>in</strong>g he can to save me… [to Giulia] I’m a bit foolish, don’t<br />
you th<strong>in</strong>k?… But now I shouldn’t th<strong>in</strong>k about him, but about another journey,<br />
the real one… my first trip and the ticket Carlo paid for for me… I’m go<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to Gu<strong>at</strong>emala…<br />
Giulia: Gu<strong>at</strong>emala? Wow! Gu<strong>at</strong>emala must be beautiful!<br />
Angelo: Yes! Really beautiful! And you, where are you go<strong>in</strong>g? Are you leav<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Or are you just gett<strong>in</strong>g back?<br />
Giulia: I’m… I don’t know where I’m go<strong>in</strong>g, but I’m go<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
Angelo [<strong>in</strong>terrupt<strong>in</strong>g her]: I really feel ready. It’s fantastic! Good th<strong>in</strong>g I let them<br />
conv<strong>in</strong>ce me. My friends and Carlo more than anyone else! Didn’t I tell you?<br />
Carlo is my mother’s partner. He’s an easy-go<strong>in</strong>g guy. You should meet<br />
him… Sorry… I talk too much… It’s just I’m really nervous… [talk<strong>in</strong>g to the<br />
barman and po<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the pills] Maybe I’d better take another one, wh<strong>at</strong> do<br />
you th<strong>in</strong>k? I don’t feel anyth<strong>in</strong>g. Do these th<strong>in</strong>gs really work?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Go ahead. It’ll be over before you know it. And then just th<strong>in</strong>k, you’re go<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to Gu<strong>at</strong>emala! I’d come too, if I could ever leave this place!<br />
There is an announcement for the flight to Gu<strong>at</strong>emala. The music starts up. His<br />
friends arrive with backpacks and luggage. The choreography starts up and above the<br />
music Angelo’s shout<strong>in</strong>g can be heard.<br />
Angelo: Oh my God, the anxiety! [to Giulia] Go Giuliaaa! Take the first flight<br />
you seeeeeeeee. [he exits the scene]<br />
Giulia: You sure couldn’t call this place peaceful! I’ve been try<strong>in</strong>g to write a letter<br />
s<strong>in</strong>ce I got here but I can’t manage to do it. How do you do it? Everyday,<br />
you do noth<strong>in</strong>g but live other people’s stories.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: A bit like actors <strong>in</strong> the the<strong>at</strong>re… I would’ve liked to be an actor… Maybe<br />
one day I will, and tell the stories I’ve heard and lived here.<br />
Pietro comes <strong>in</strong>, walk<strong>in</strong>g slowly, dragg<strong>in</strong>g a bag beh<strong>in</strong>d him (a gym bag) with a demoralized<br />
<strong>at</strong>titude. He checks the time on his w<strong>at</strong>ch, then on the clock on the wall.<br />
115
Pietro [to Giulia]: Excuse me, do know wh<strong>at</strong> time it is???<br />
Giulia: I don’t know, eight o’clock, give or take…<br />
Pietro: Give or take…<br />
Uns<strong>at</strong>isfied, Pietro goes to sit <strong>at</strong> a table and asks for some tea.<br />
Giulia [to the barman]: I need to concentr<strong>at</strong>e! I must, and I mean I must, write<br />
this letter!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you th<strong>in</strong>k about a little bit of music?<br />
Giulia: Thanks a lot [smil<strong>in</strong>g], this will really help me! [she picks up the letter and<br />
beg<strong>in</strong>s read<strong>in</strong>g it <strong>in</strong> a low voice, as if she were read<strong>in</strong>g it to herself] «Dear Mom<br />
and Dad, I’ve decided to go on a trip. I don’t know for how long. I realized<br />
th<strong>at</strong> I’ve been work<strong>in</strong>g to build my future and now th<strong>at</strong> I’ve built it, I don’t<br />
know wh<strong>at</strong> to do with it. I need to th<strong>in</strong>k about myself, not just about work.<br />
And I want to thank you for the effort you made to send me to <strong>school</strong>, help me<br />
open my studio. It was my dream and you helped me. But now I understand<br />
th<strong>at</strong> this is not all there is to life. It can’t be all there is. I th<strong>in</strong>k about the two of<br />
you, about our family, about how happy we were despite the sacrifices and<br />
about how happy you are, now. I want it too, to be happy with a partner who<br />
I can share my life with. I want to be proud of my children. I want to be happy<br />
about the life I’m liv<strong>in</strong>g and I want to feel complete. I need to figure th<strong>in</strong>gs<br />
out. I need to figure my life out. I need to make some decisions, because now<br />
I know wh<strong>at</strong> I want. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be ok. Be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the airport is<br />
enough to start gett<strong>in</strong>g a fresh outlook on th<strong>in</strong>gs, to beg<strong>in</strong> to feel alive. I’ll let<br />
you know as soon as I get th<strong>in</strong>gs sorted out. I love you… your Giulia».<br />
Giulia looks up and smiles <strong>at</strong> the barman, almost as if she is thank<strong>in</strong>g him for th<strong>at</strong><br />
moment of tranquillity, and just then Elena comes <strong>in</strong>, s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g the tune play<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> the<br />
bar. She walks toward the counter.<br />
Pietro [to Elena]: Excuse me, do you have the time?<br />
Elena: Eight o’clock, give or take…<br />
Pietro: give or take…<br />
Giulia: One down, now let’s get on to the others.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Goodbye letters??? [turn<strong>in</strong>g toward Elena] Wh<strong>at</strong> can I get… but you…<br />
you’re Elena the red…<br />
Elena [as she stops s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g]: Excuse me?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o [s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g the song as well]: …do you remember? Every night the same music…<br />
<strong>at</strong> the Bluenight… I was a young bartender… I’m N<strong>in</strong>o… Then I had<br />
a full head of hair…<br />
116
Elena: Why sure… the Bluenight… th<strong>at</strong> was ages ago! I’m happy to see you!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Where did you disappear to??? From one night to another… gone… I’ve<br />
missed you… and your obsession with writ<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> your diary…<br />
Elena: It’s precisely th<strong>at</strong> diary th<strong>at</strong> changed my life…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: …wh<strong>at</strong> do you mean? Come on, tell us!<br />
Elena: It’s k<strong>in</strong>d of a long story… I got here early and I have to wait for my husband…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: And even a husband????? Come on, tell me…<br />
Giulia: So long letter… Here I foresee another story to listen to…<br />
Elena sits down on the stool and takes out an old diary.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Don’t tell me th<strong>at</strong>’s…<br />
Elena: Yes, and this is the entry from my last day as an escort: «Dear Diary…<br />
Here’ wh<strong>at</strong> happened to me today… I can hardly believe it… Anyway… it’s<br />
eight o’clock… I open my eyes and I hear my housem<strong>at</strong>e shout<strong>in</strong>g and gett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
on my case about me always leav<strong>in</strong>g my shoes lay<strong>in</strong>g around the house. After<br />
her shout<strong>in</strong>g, I hear the relentless drone of the vacuum sweeper. The light filter<strong>in</strong>g<br />
through the holes <strong>in</strong> the bl<strong>in</strong>ds <strong>in</strong> front of my bed, along with the seem<strong>in</strong>gly<br />
endless noise of roadwork outside conv<strong>in</strong>ce me th<strong>at</strong> today is the day of<br />
noise, and th<strong>at</strong> I really got up on the wrong side of the bed.<br />
By then I’d lost all hope of stay<strong>in</strong>g a little while longer under the <strong>cover</strong>s. I<br />
jump out of bed and, cross<strong>in</strong>g the hallway, head straight for the b<strong>at</strong>hroom,<br />
limit<strong>in</strong>g myself to just glar<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> hyperactive Jill, every morn<strong>in</strong>g more and<br />
more a pa<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> my ass.<br />
“Hot w<strong>at</strong>er from the shower pound<strong>in</strong>g on your sk<strong>in</strong> is the best relaxant I<br />
know of”, I th<strong>in</strong>k as I turn on the w<strong>at</strong>er and adjust it to the right temper<strong>at</strong>ure.<br />
“Elenaaaaaa, look if you don’t hurry up you’ll have to pay the w<strong>at</strong>er bill the<br />
next time!”. In spite of the fact my nervous system is about to explode, I pretend<br />
noth<strong>in</strong>g is wrong, get <strong>in</strong> the shower and let the w<strong>at</strong>er p<strong>at</strong>ter down on my<br />
sk<strong>in</strong>, just as I imag<strong>in</strong>ed it a few moments ago. After a few m<strong>in</strong>utes, which seem<br />
to go by quicker than usual, the return to the harsh, grey brown reality of our<br />
apartment tells me to get out of there as fast as my legs will take me. Lift<strong>in</strong>g my<br />
face to the street and to the bright sky of th<strong>at</strong> beautiful morn<strong>in</strong>g, I get to the<br />
bar and Giovanni, just like every other day, reads my face and immedi<strong>at</strong>ely<br />
br<strong>in</strong>gs me a cappucc<strong>in</strong>o and croissant (whole whe<strong>at</strong> with honey, of course).<br />
Giovanni is like me. When he was a teenager he came to the big city to seek his<br />
fortune and ended up <strong>at</strong> the marg<strong>in</strong>s of this urban society. While I’m dr<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g<br />
my cappucc<strong>in</strong>o, my gaze falls on the second stool, where every day the<br />
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118<br />
same woman <strong>at</strong> the same time sits down to her ‘second’ small meal of the day:<br />
brunch, as people ‘like her’ call it. She is wear<strong>in</strong>g one of her numerous suits,<br />
with one of her numerous pairs of pumps and is ready to leave aga<strong>in</strong> for one of<br />
her numerous appo<strong>in</strong>tments. I, on the other hand, <strong>in</strong> my swe<strong>at</strong>s and gym<br />
shoes, look like a monster compared to her, despite the fact th<strong>at</strong> we are probably<br />
the same age. She’s a woman, a successful woman. I’m a whore, and not<br />
even a successful one. Even though it’s been morn<strong>in</strong>g for a while now, I’m not<br />
<strong>in</strong> any hurry. A woman like me, <strong>in</strong> the morn<strong>in</strong>g, doesn’t ever have much to<br />
do. I go back home. As soon as Jill gets home, I decide to go out aga<strong>in</strong>, for a bit<br />
of peace and quiet. I don’t have anyth<strong>in</strong>g to do until 11 pm, so I decide to go<br />
for a ride. I take a half empty bus to the suburbs. After a while, by then, alone<br />
on the bus, I get off. And as I walk around, I see an old woman, busy try<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
open the roll<strong>in</strong>g shutters of her restaurant. I see it’s difficult for her and walk<br />
up to give her a hand. To thank me, she <strong>in</strong>vites me to have someth<strong>in</strong>g to e<strong>at</strong><br />
with her. The place is practically deserted. I eagerly accept her <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>ion. The<br />
lady is nice and friendly to me. It’s been ages s<strong>in</strong>ce someone tre<strong>at</strong>ed me like<br />
th<strong>at</strong>. Over the course of the even<strong>in</strong>g we talk about our lives. And I, <strong>in</strong> a rush of<br />
courage, tell her the truth about my life and, with gre<strong>at</strong> and much appreci<strong>at</strong>ed<br />
surprise, I dis<strong>cover</strong> th<strong>at</strong> it doesn’t bother her <strong>at</strong> all. On the contrary… she<br />
understood me. Th<strong>at</strong>’s how, dur<strong>in</strong>g our convers<strong>at</strong>ion, the woman noticed my<br />
diary, which was ly<strong>in</strong>g next to me as usual.<br />
I had never allowed anyone access to my diary… until th<strong>at</strong> moment… but<br />
th<strong>at</strong> night… someth<strong>in</strong>g was happen<strong>in</strong>g to me… I don’t know… maybe it was<br />
th<strong>at</strong> convers<strong>at</strong>ion. Th<strong>at</strong> very day, <strong>in</strong> th<strong>at</strong> very place… th<strong>at</strong> radiant old woman<br />
th<strong>at</strong> I had never met before seemed to want to understand me and accept me<br />
for wh<strong>at</strong> I had become… Her delic<strong>at</strong>ely persistent gaze on my diary… Out of<br />
the blue, for no reason <strong>at</strong> all, I open it and beg<strong>in</strong> read<strong>in</strong>g and while I’m read<strong>in</strong>g<br />
I surprise myself as I reconstruct the story of my life… As if I were read<strong>in</strong>g<br />
and tell<strong>in</strong>g the story of the life of someone else… Suddenly, th<strong>at</strong> sweet woman<br />
<strong>in</strong>terrupts me, takes my hand and drops a bus<strong>in</strong>ess card <strong>in</strong>to my palm. “Mauro<br />
Verdi Editore, Casa Editrice Piccola Città”. We don’t say anyth<strong>in</strong>g to each<br />
other, we just look each other <strong>in</strong> the eyes while she gets up to welcome the customers<br />
com<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>. In a fa<strong>in</strong>t voice, I say “I’ll th<strong>in</strong>k about it… thank you”.<br />
Without even say<strong>in</strong>g goodbye, I quickly leave to go to work. I take the bus<br />
downtown, toward the nightclub. I’m l<strong>at</strong>e, but once I get off, I stop dead <strong>in</strong><br />
front of the entrance. I’m still cl<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g tightly to th<strong>at</strong> card <strong>in</strong> my hand… I read<br />
it aga<strong>in</strong> “Casa Editrice Piccola Città… 333.4455667. Mauro Verdi Editore…<br />
Piccola Città… Casa Editrice… 333…”. Dear Diary… let’s go<br />
home… Let’s change our life…».
N<strong>in</strong>o: And so wh<strong>at</strong> did you two do, you and you diary?? This story’s got my on<br />
the edge of my se<strong>at</strong>!<br />
Elena: Th<strong>at</strong> night I didn’t sleep a w<strong>in</strong>k, I just kept th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g about my life and my<br />
diary and I decided to send a copy to this unknown publish<strong>in</strong>g house. Now,<br />
after five years, Mrs. Elena Verdi is an accomplished writer, has two children<br />
and an exceptional husband who was once a small publisher. I’ll never be able<br />
to thank Mrs. Domenica, the owner of th<strong>at</strong> little restaurant, enough. And I<br />
still e<strong>at</strong> with her every weekend.<br />
At the end of her story, the barman and Giulia applaud her. Even Pietro, prys his eyes<br />
away from his w<strong>at</strong>ch and applauds.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Fantastic!!!! You’re fantastic!<br />
Pietro: Excuse me, Elena! I couldn’t help overhear<strong>in</strong>g your story and wanted to<br />
congr<strong>at</strong>ul<strong>at</strong>e you on your strength and the awareness with which you tell your<br />
story. Talk<strong>in</strong>g openly about your own life is a mark of gre<strong>at</strong> m<strong>at</strong>urity and really<br />
sets an example for all those people like me who don’t have the strength to<br />
act. Thank you… Thank you… Thank you aga<strong>in</strong>. Could you be so k<strong>in</strong>d as to<br />
give me your autograph?<br />
Elena takes a piece of paper out of her bag and autographs it.<br />
Pietro: You know!… Someone could write a book about my life as well. M<strong>in</strong>e is<br />
a story of vitality, passion, love… [sigh<strong>in</strong>g] Ah, yes… A wonderful, gre<strong>at</strong> story<br />
of love gone bad. She was everyth<strong>in</strong>g to me. She was the air I needed to<br />
bre<strong>at</strong>he to live, the w<strong>at</strong>er I needed to dr<strong>in</strong>k, the food I needed to e<strong>at</strong>, the flower<br />
I needed to tend, the bus I needed to take, the…<br />
Elena: Excuse me, Mr.???<br />
Pietro: Pietro, my name’s Pietro!<br />
Elena: Mr. Pietro, go on…<br />
Pietro: Yes, excuse me. It’s just th<strong>at</strong> when I talk about her, I can’t help lett<strong>in</strong>g myself<br />
go, surrender<strong>in</strong>g myself to those feel<strong>in</strong>gs, so pleasurable, so excit<strong>in</strong>g, so…<br />
The barman coughs loudly, annoyed.<br />
Pietro: We’d been together for almost a year, everyth<strong>in</strong>g was go<strong>in</strong>g well. Every<br />
d<strong>at</strong>e seemed like the first, stomach <strong>in</strong> knots, swe<strong>at</strong>y palms, shaky legs…<br />
Giulia: Get to the po<strong>in</strong>t… why did you break up?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Well, it’s pretty easy to guess why… I’m sure she left him say<strong>in</strong>g she didn’t<br />
deserve him, he was too much for her, she couldn’t understand him… a classic!<br />
119
Giulia: Did you leave her? Or, as the expert says [po<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g ironically <strong>at</strong> the barman],<br />
did she leave you?<br />
Pietro: It all ended because of a betrayal.<br />
Elena: There, I told you, as usual you men have to go and ru<strong>in</strong> everyth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Giulia: Excuse me, wh<strong>at</strong> do you know, maybe it was her!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Maybe she che<strong>at</strong>ed on him with his best friend… th<strong>at</strong> way it was a double<br />
betrayal, the friend and the girlfriend. Wh<strong>at</strong> a story!<br />
Elena: Or maybe she saw him flirt<strong>in</strong>g with the supermarket cashier near their<br />
house, followed them after clos<strong>in</strong>g and saw them go <strong>in</strong>to a motel.<br />
Giulia: Excuse me, why don’t we let him tell us?<br />
Elena: Go on, Pietro, tell us.<br />
Pietro: As I was say<strong>in</strong>g… over the next few days I felt smaller and smaller and the<br />
pa<strong>in</strong> was e<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g away <strong>at</strong> my soul. With other people I pretended th<strong>in</strong>gs were<br />
go<strong>in</strong>g well. I didn’t want them to know, and I thought about the only th<strong>in</strong>g<br />
th<strong>at</strong> made me feel better: the memory of us when we were still together.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: So, did you che<strong>at</strong> on her? Or did she che<strong>at</strong> on you?<br />
Giulia: Who cares? Can’t you see wh<strong>at</strong> he’s go<strong>in</strong>g through!!!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: I know he’s suffer<strong>in</strong>g, but if it’s over there must be a reason why, and now<br />
I’m curious.<br />
Pietro: Every day I grew more and more aware th<strong>at</strong> she was no longer m<strong>in</strong>e and<br />
th<strong>at</strong> noth<strong>in</strong>g I did made any sense. I stopped e<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g, I stopped go<strong>in</strong>g out. I was<br />
conv<strong>in</strong>ced I no longer had any reason to live. The world seemed to be cav<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> on me little by little. It seemed as if the lamplights were slowly go<strong>in</strong>g out as<br />
I passed by… But it wasn’t like th<strong>at</strong> <strong>at</strong> all. It was my imag<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion, my<br />
thoughts, th<strong>at</strong> made me see th<strong>in</strong>gs much differently from how they really<br />
were… and th<strong>at</strong>’s how I decided to leave, no, to beg<strong>in</strong> aga<strong>in</strong> from zero.<br />
Elena: Good for you!! Th<strong>at</strong>’s wh<strong>at</strong> I wanted to hear you say! Th<strong>at</strong>’s just the<br />
po<strong>in</strong>t: you can’t wallow <strong>in</strong> your pa<strong>in</strong> until you cease to exist anymore… you<br />
have to react. You have to keep liv<strong>in</strong>g. You have to throw yourself <strong>at</strong> every opportunity,<br />
you have to reclaim your space.<br />
Pietro: I know, but I don’t have the strength. I don’t have the motiv<strong>at</strong>ion.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: You need a change of scenery, to go to a place where anyth<strong>in</strong>g is possible…<br />
[silence] I know where you could go… Amsterdam!!!<br />
Giulia AND Elena [talk<strong>in</strong>g to each other]: Yes, Amsterdam, the perfect city. Romantic,<br />
but not too romantic, a little unconventional, but not too much. And<br />
you just might meet Ms Right.<br />
Pietro: I wouldn’t know. My girlfriend and I often talked about go<strong>in</strong>g on a trip,<br />
but Amsterdam, we never talked about go<strong>in</strong>g there. But isn’t it a bit much for<br />
the first time?<br />
120
N<strong>in</strong>o: No way! It’s the perfect dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion for you. So go… go!<br />
Music starts to play. There is choreography and <strong>in</strong> the meantime the three of them<br />
help Pietro collect his luggage, shake his hand, wave goodbye and push him out of the<br />
scene. As the music ends, we see Elena wave to someone and collect her th<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
Elena: There he is, my Pygmalion has arrived… I’ve got to go… Hello Fabrizio…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Leave me you address and telephone number…<br />
Elena: I’ll do better than th<strong>at</strong>… I’ll leave you a couple of l<strong>in</strong>es from my diary…<br />
see you l<strong>at</strong>er!<br />
Elena exits, leav<strong>in</strong>g a sheet of paper on the counter. The barman picks it up, disappo<strong>in</strong>ted.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: But wait… Give me your number… Maybe I could publish the adventures<br />
of an airport barman… Your diary… Wh<strong>at</strong> am I go<strong>in</strong>g to do with this…<br />
He picks up the piece of paper and beg<strong>in</strong>s read<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: M<strong>in</strong>e is a long journey<br />
through your lives,<br />
your stories,<br />
your emotions,<br />
the shadows,<br />
the enthusiasm,<br />
the pa<strong>in</strong>,<br />
the laughter,<br />
the glances,<br />
and all my hopes are brought to life<br />
mix<strong>in</strong>g with your words<br />
and your silence.<br />
But it’s beautiful! It seems like it was written just for me!<br />
Giulia: I wish I could f<strong>in</strong>d someone to write this letter!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Do you need a hand?<br />
Giulia: Forget it… why don’t you put a little music on!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Your wish is my command!<br />
Giulia [read<strong>in</strong>g the second letter]: «My dear ones, S<strong>in</strong>ce today you still haven’t received<br />
a call from me, you’re probably ask<strong>in</strong>g yourselves wh<strong>at</strong> has happened<br />
121
to me. Don’t worry, I’ve left. Strange, huh?! But this morn<strong>in</strong>g I woke up and,<br />
look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> myself <strong>in</strong> the mirror, I’ve realized the bitter truth: I’ve grown old<br />
and I haven’t even realized it! I know, I know… you’ve been tell<strong>in</strong>g me th<strong>at</strong><br />
all my life, but you know how stubborn I can be. While I was pack<strong>in</strong>g, I<br />
thought a lot about you both, about your travels, about your experiences. And<br />
me? I’ve rema<strong>in</strong>ed beh<strong>in</strong>d, stuck with a man who has never appreci<strong>at</strong>ed me,<br />
stuck <strong>in</strong> a place th<strong>at</strong> has only aged me and hasn’t helped me grow. I’ve thought<br />
about how often just listen<strong>in</strong>g to your stories made me feel alive and different…<br />
and so I’ve decided. I still don’t know where I’m go<strong>in</strong>g. I’m <strong>at</strong> the airport<br />
and am wait<strong>in</strong>g for the travel agency to open. In the meantime, I’m fantasiz<strong>in</strong>g<br />
about possible dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ions: London, India, Amsterdam. We’ll see<br />
wh<strong>at</strong> I decide. I’ll keep you posted. And don’t worry: it’s the best th<strong>in</strong>g I can<br />
do to make me feel alive!» [she folds the paper s<strong>at</strong>isfied and puts it <strong>in</strong> an envelope]<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: F<strong>in</strong>ished? Settled? Decided?<br />
Giulia: Yes, now all I have to do is wait for the agency to open. But, wh<strong>at</strong> time is it?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Half past n<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Giulia: Well, by now it should be open!<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k it’ll open today… the owner is out of town… he’s left too…<br />
Giulia: You knew it… Why did you make me stay here, wast<strong>in</strong>g my time?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Wast<strong>in</strong>g your time? Do you th<strong>in</strong>k you would’ve decided to leave if you<br />
hadn’t heard all of these stories? The stories of people… The ones th<strong>at</strong> make<br />
us change… Those are our experiences… I did it for you…<br />
Giulia: Well… <strong>in</strong> the end, to change your own life, you don’t need to embark<br />
on a journey. All you have to do is listen to other people and listen to yourself…<br />
And you… Who are you? The ferryman of restless souls?<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Me? I am the one who rema<strong>in</strong>s… until… someone or someth<strong>in</strong>g pushes<br />
him elsewhere… I am the Luisona!<br />
He picks up the book and beg<strong>in</strong>s read<strong>in</strong>g Giulia the story of the Luisona. Meanwhile,<br />
the music starts up and people beg<strong>in</strong> com<strong>in</strong>g and go<strong>in</strong>g, enter<strong>in</strong>g and exit<strong>in</strong>g backstage.<br />
Slowly the curta<strong>in</strong> descends and only one clos<strong>in</strong>g voice is heard.<br />
N<strong>in</strong>o: Goodbye Luisona!!!<br />
122
Like a ghost<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Desi Bovo<br />
REVISED BY<br />
Annalisa De Pretis<br />
A black and empty stage. Sounds of the city can be heard <strong>in</strong> the background: traffic,<br />
<strong>in</strong>dist<strong>in</strong>ct ch<strong>at</strong>ter, horns honk<strong>in</strong>g. As the curta<strong>in</strong> rises, you can already see the Greys<br />
mov<strong>in</strong>g around. The Greys are actors and actresses, about twenty <strong>in</strong> all, dressed <strong>in</strong><br />
grey (pants, jacket – suits - jeans and tee-shirts) with anonymous faces. The Greys<br />
move across the stage, exit<strong>in</strong>g and re-enter<strong>in</strong>g backstage, as if they were all go<strong>in</strong>g somewhere.<br />
They are closed <strong>in</strong>side their own worlds, not look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> each other, not touch<strong>in</strong>g<br />
each other. They are like robots com<strong>in</strong>g and go<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Giulia is also there among the Greys.<br />
Giulia is an adolescent girl, about eighteen years old. She is also dressed <strong>in</strong> grey,<br />
though she is wear<strong>in</strong>g a red tee-shirt th<strong>at</strong> is just barely visible. Giulia moves around<br />
with the Greys but is a bit less robot-like, more <strong>at</strong>tentive to her surround<strong>in</strong>gs and looks<br />
a bit lost, as if she does not know exactly where she is go<strong>in</strong>g. She is also very sad.<br />
Sara stands <strong>in</strong> the center of the stage. Sara is an adolescent girl, about sixteen years old:<br />
she is a ghost. She is wear<strong>in</strong>g a light, floor-length, little dress and a veil th<strong>at</strong> <strong>cover</strong>s her<br />
shoulders, both are white.<br />
Sara is stand<strong>in</strong>g still <strong>at</strong> the center of the stage, fac<strong>in</strong>g the audience, her gaze unfocused.<br />
It is as if she were someplace else. In the meantime, the Greys cont<strong>in</strong>ue their com<strong>in</strong>gs<br />
and go<strong>in</strong>gs: some are <strong>in</strong> a hurry, always look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> their w<strong>at</strong>ches and walk<strong>in</strong>g quickly;<br />
some are distracted, read<strong>in</strong>g the newspaper while walk<strong>in</strong>g; some are talk<strong>in</strong>g on<br />
their mobiles; some are walk<strong>in</strong>g fast, <strong>in</strong>different to wh<strong>at</strong> is around them. The Greys<br />
do not notice Sara and when they walk past her they bump <strong>in</strong>to and push her.<br />
123
Suddenly Sara’s veil falls to the ground and all the Greys stop, a freeze frame stopp<strong>in</strong>g<br />
them <strong>in</strong> the middle of an action: look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> their w<strong>at</strong>ches, runn<strong>in</strong>g a hand through<br />
their hair, adjust<strong>in</strong>g their ties, answer<strong>in</strong>g the phone, etc.<br />
The background noise of the city lowers, but is still audible.<br />
Sara [still hold<strong>in</strong>g a corner of her veil <strong>in</strong> her hand and dragg<strong>in</strong>g it beh<strong>in</strong>d her while<br />
she advances to the forestage. She conveys a sense of <strong>in</strong>f<strong>in</strong>ite solitude]:<br />
I’m cold and have eyes of ice<br />
My worn out body is pay<strong>in</strong>g the price<br />
Sara cont<strong>in</strong>ues talk<strong>in</strong>g as she moves forward, almost slipp<strong>in</strong>g through the motionless<br />
bodies <strong>in</strong> front of her. The Greys do not react to her and rema<strong>in</strong> frozen. Sara seems to<br />
move effortlessly past the bodies she meets as she walks forward. Sara is light, almost<br />
ethereal.<br />
Sara: I brush aga<strong>in</strong>st everyth<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> th<strong>at</strong> I pass<br />
Caress<strong>in</strong>g my face, like blades of grass.<br />
At the end of this verse, Sara reaches the forestage.<br />
Sara [putt<strong>in</strong>g her veil back on, wrapp<strong>in</strong>g it around her and play<strong>in</strong>g with it as if she<br />
wanted to emphasize her own words, clarify them]:<br />
I open my w<strong>in</strong>gs delic<strong>at</strong>e and filmy,<br />
frosty and dusty.<br />
Between these w<strong>in</strong>gs there’s only cold, white dust,<br />
I wonder wh<strong>at</strong> will rema<strong>in</strong> of me, weary and soft.<br />
While Sara is recit<strong>in</strong>g the last two verses, the noise of the city beg<strong>in</strong>s to <strong>in</strong>crease until<br />
it almost completely drowns out her voice.<br />
Sara cont<strong>in</strong>ues to talk but we do not hear her voice.<br />
Sara: I am like the night<br />
mysterious, devoid of light<br />
I am like the w<strong>in</strong>d.<br />
Meanwhile beh<strong>in</strong>d her, as if reawakened by the noise of the city, the Greys beg<strong>in</strong> mov<strong>in</strong>g<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>, f<strong>in</strong>ish<strong>in</strong>g the actions they were frozen <strong>in</strong> the middle of, though rema<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> their places.<br />
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Sara [realiz<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> she is be<strong>in</strong>g crushed by the noise, th<strong>at</strong> she is <strong>in</strong>visible, she aga<strong>in</strong><br />
beg<strong>in</strong>s recit<strong>in</strong>g her poem, this time <strong>in</strong> a louder voice. She approaches some of the-<br />
Greys, search<strong>in</strong>g for contact, communic<strong>at</strong>ion. She is angry and <strong>in</strong>tends to make<br />
herself heard and felt. Despite her <strong>at</strong>tempts, the Greys react as if a breeze has<br />
brushed past them and do not notice her]:<br />
I am like the night<br />
mysterious, devoid of light.<br />
I am like the w<strong>in</strong>d,<br />
I w<strong>at</strong>ch you, caress you and I listen.<br />
I have no name, no colour, no face<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g this last verse, Sara rests her hands on Giulia’s shoulders, who has her back to<br />
Sara. Giulia, unlike the others, feels Sara’s touch and whirls around. The two girls<br />
stand still and stare <strong>at</strong> each other.<br />
Sara [<strong>in</strong> a sweet voice]:<br />
I have no name, no colour, no face<br />
Everywhere I go I leave my trace.<br />
While recit<strong>in</strong>g this last verse fac<strong>in</strong>g Giulia, she reaches out her hand to touch her face<br />
but Giulia withdraws. Meanwhile, the sounds of the city become almost musical.<br />
Sara aga<strong>in</strong> tries to touch Giulia but she hides beh<strong>in</strong>d one of the Greys, which have<br />
frozen aga<strong>in</strong> like mannequ<strong>in</strong>s with the dy<strong>in</strong>g out of the city sounds. Sara, eager to establish<br />
contact <strong>in</strong> any way, becomes more determ<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> her efforts to approach Giulia.<br />
Giulia responds by shield<strong>in</strong>g herself with the bodies’ of the Greys, mov<strong>in</strong>g them<br />
and putt<strong>in</strong>g them between herself and Sara, hid<strong>in</strong>g beh<strong>in</strong>d them and little by little<br />
cre<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g a k<strong>in</strong>d of human wall of six or seven bodies (the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>gs of the human<br />
stairway th<strong>at</strong>, <strong>in</strong> a couple of movements, will be cre<strong>at</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> a subsequent scene).<br />
All of a sudden Sara stops, she gives up. After some <strong>in</strong>itial hesit<strong>at</strong>ion, Giulia moves toward<br />
her. Aga<strong>in</strong>, the two girls stare <strong>at</strong> each other.<br />
Sara reaches out her hand but leaves it suspended <strong>in</strong> the air without try<strong>in</strong>g to touch<br />
Giulia. Giulia looks <strong>at</strong> the outstretched hand but does not move.<br />
Then, her voice crack<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Giulia: You are dead. You were my best friend.<br />
She slowly tries to touch the hand of the ghost. The two girls’ hands play <strong>in</strong> the air, almost<br />
caress<strong>in</strong>g but not touch<strong>in</strong>g each other. With this gesture the sounds, cre<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g an<br />
unsettl<strong>in</strong>g and unresolved <strong>at</strong>mosphere, transform <strong>in</strong>to music.<br />
125
Giulia [becom<strong>in</strong>g more and more restless and anxious <strong>in</strong> her <strong>at</strong>tempt to grasp Sara’s<br />
hand. Then she suddenly takes a step back and shouts <strong>at</strong> her friend]: It isn’t fair!<br />
You should have lived!<br />
Sara squeezes the veil around her <strong>at</strong> her friend’s rage. Giulia <strong>in</strong> turn closes her jacket,<br />
almost completely <strong>cover</strong><strong>in</strong>g her red tee-shirt. She turns her back to Sara, mak<strong>in</strong>g herself<br />
<strong>in</strong>dist<strong>in</strong>guishable from the Greys stand<strong>in</strong>g around her.<br />
The music becomes grim and melancholy.<br />
Sara: I… I am wh<strong>at</strong> has been<br />
You… you looked for me… and found me then<br />
Giulia cont<strong>in</strong>ues ignor<strong>in</strong>g her and, <strong>in</strong> the meantime, some of the Greys, as if led by the<br />
music, form a semi-circle around the two girls while those stand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> front of Giulia<br />
beg<strong>in</strong> to form a human stairway. Now Giulia is the only one with her back to Sara.<br />
Sara [as if she were try<strong>in</strong>g to expla<strong>in</strong> someth<strong>in</strong>g to her]: He… took me back<br />
Giulia turns to look <strong>at</strong> her friend.<br />
Sara [smil<strong>in</strong>g, sad]: She accompanies me…<br />
The Greys widen their circle until they are surround<strong>in</strong>g Sara, close to the human<br />
stairway, with Giulia <strong>in</strong> front of her. Every one of them is mortal. The slow and elegant<br />
gestures of the Greys are ritualistic. Every one of them must die and every one of<br />
them stops their runn<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> front of de<strong>at</strong>h. Upon this last verse, Giulia, emotionally<br />
moved, takes Sara by the hand, aga<strong>in</strong> very lightly, barely brush<strong>in</strong>g aga<strong>in</strong>st one another,<br />
never actually touch<strong>in</strong>g. Sara beg<strong>in</strong>s to walk up the human stairway with the help<br />
of Giulia, who holds her hand.<br />
Sara [<strong>at</strong> the top of the stairway]: We w<strong>at</strong>ch from above…<br />
Lett<strong>in</strong>g go of the hand of her friend, who is too far below her and difficult to reach.<br />
Sara: All of you live.<br />
The light on the human stairway, with Sara <strong>at</strong> the top, beg<strong>in</strong>s to dim.<br />
Sara [smil<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> Giulia who is still reach<strong>in</strong>g out her hand to Sara]: They… dream.<br />
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The light on the stairway goes out once and for all. The only rema<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g light is on<br />
Giulia, her back still to the audience, as she slowly lowers her extended arm.<br />
Giulia [her back to the audience]:<br />
I have a heart of iron<br />
My feel<strong>in</strong>gs, of wax<br />
My emotions, of the twilight…<br />
With her words, once aga<strong>in</strong> the music beg<strong>in</strong>s to transform <strong>in</strong>to noise and the lights beg<strong>in</strong><br />
to raise.<br />
When the stage is illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ed we see th<strong>at</strong> Sara has disappeared and the Greys are<br />
aga<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> the same positions they were <strong>in</strong> <strong>at</strong> the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g, each of them caught up <strong>in</strong><br />
their own actions.<br />
Giulia looks around her, search<strong>in</strong>g for her friend. While her back was turned, her<br />
jacket opened and now her red tee-shirt is clearly visible. Giulia quietly beg<strong>in</strong>s to cry.<br />
The noise transforms <strong>in</strong>to city sounds.<br />
Giulia is stand<strong>in</strong>g still <strong>in</strong> the center of the stage. The Greys beg<strong>in</strong> their com<strong>in</strong>g and go<strong>in</strong>g<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>, try<strong>in</strong>g to avoid her, but every once <strong>in</strong> a while one of them bumps <strong>in</strong>to her.<br />
Suddenly, Giulia takes off her jacket. The noise ceases and there is silence on the stage.<br />
The Greys look around themselves disoriented.<br />
Giulia + voice off Sara:<br />
Lift your delic<strong>at</strong>e hands from your eyes<br />
I want to see you.<br />
Lift your fragrant hands from your mouth<br />
I want to hear you speak aga<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Lift your childlike hands from your ears<br />
listen aga<strong>in</strong> to my bre<strong>at</strong>h and yours…<br />
Giulia [smil<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the audience and dry<strong>in</strong>g her eyes]:<br />
Two souls divided<br />
yet two lives shared<br />
forever.<br />
The noise starts up aga<strong>in</strong> along with the com<strong>in</strong>g and go<strong>in</strong>g of the Greys. Giulia rema<strong>in</strong>s<br />
motionless <strong>in</strong> the center of the stage.<br />
After a few seconds, the curta<strong>in</strong>s close and there is only noise.<br />
Darkness. Silence.<br />
127
A heart on holiday falls <strong>in</strong> love<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Antonio Lorenz<strong>in</strong><br />
ADAPTED BY<br />
K<strong>at</strong>ia Assunt<strong>in</strong>i<br />
Darkness on stage. The silence broken by the voice off of an adolescent boy, <strong>in</strong>spired,<br />
<strong>in</strong>tense. It is Antonio’s voice.<br />
Antonio [voice off]: Barcelona. The dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion of many. Like all of Spa<strong>in</strong>, after<br />
all. Gaudi. La Sagrada Familia. And his other works. Stupendous. Magnificent.<br />
But they’re noth<strong>in</strong>g compared to wh<strong>at</strong> man experiences. Th<strong>at</strong> th<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong><br />
if it didn’t exist, you’d survive, but you wouldn’t really be alive. Th<strong>at</strong> th<strong>in</strong>g<br />
th<strong>at</strong> Gaudi perhaps never felt. Th<strong>at</strong> th<strong>in</strong>g called love. Love. The be<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g heart.<br />
The emotion only another person can arouse.<br />
Cut. The stage is lit. A stylized bus, very colourful, rows of se<strong>at</strong>s, three on each side. At<br />
the sides and back, w<strong>in</strong>dows like TV screens show<strong>in</strong>g the streets as they move by, the<br />
city, the trip, like <strong>in</strong> old films from the forties.<br />
In the forestage, to the extreme right, the driver; to the extreme left, lean<strong>in</strong>g on one of<br />
the se<strong>at</strong>s, the guide, microphone <strong>in</strong> hand, look<strong>in</strong>g absent-m<strong>in</strong>dedly out the w<strong>in</strong>dow.<br />
About twenty people on the bus, mostly couples <strong>in</strong> their forties and fifties, some talk<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
some read<strong>in</strong>g, some listen<strong>in</strong>g to music, some sleep<strong>in</strong>g, some mov<strong>in</strong>g around talk<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to different groups of people, some film<strong>in</strong>g wh<strong>at</strong> is go<strong>in</strong>g by outside the w<strong>in</strong>dow<br />
and some tak<strong>in</strong>g posed pictures of their beloved.<br />
Confused murmur of people talk<strong>in</strong>g, laughter, the sound of the bus mov<strong>in</strong>g, but the<br />
sound of the music is always predom<strong>in</strong>ant.<br />
128
Darkness, the music fades, the same voice as before. While he is talk<strong>in</strong>g, the spotlight<br />
illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>es the people or groups <strong>in</strong>dic<strong>at</strong>ed.<br />
Antonio [voice off]: Total boredom. Youth <strong>in</strong> the m<strong>in</strong>ority <strong>in</strong> a group with an average<br />
age of fifty, roughly. I don’t know. Forty, fifty, it’s all the same. I’m fifteen,<br />
wh<strong>at</strong> do I know about the difference between someone who’s forty and<br />
someone who’s fifty. A few more wr<strong>in</strong>kles. Who knows. And then the only<br />
kid on the whole bus, me. And a girl, twelve years old, her. Even worse. Even<br />
I was too old for her.<br />
Darkness. Music taken from the previous musical piece. The lights go on and are only<br />
on the boy, Antonio, lean<strong>in</strong>g out over the se<strong>at</strong> <strong>in</strong> front of him to look <strong>at</strong> the girl,<br />
Alessia, do<strong>in</strong>g her homework. The music fades and the surround<strong>in</strong>g noise <strong>in</strong>creases,<br />
the reality of the bus <strong>in</strong> terms of sound also beg<strong>in</strong>s to take shape.<br />
Alessia [turn<strong>in</strong>g around]: Ciao, Alessia.<br />
Antonio [jump<strong>in</strong>g over the se<strong>at</strong> <strong>in</strong> front of him <strong>in</strong>to the one next to her]:<br />
Antonio.Everyth<strong>in</strong>g ok?<br />
Alessia: Yes, wh<strong>at</strong> about you?<br />
Antonio: Me too. [po<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> her books]. So, you brought your books on vac<strong>at</strong>ion?<br />
Alessia: I had to, I have a ton of homework to do.<br />
Antonio: Come on, the year’s almost over! I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to do it all l<strong>at</strong>er, when I get<br />
back home.<br />
Alessia: Are you kidd<strong>in</strong>g? I don’t want to have to argue with my parents!<br />
Antonio: So, how are you do<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>school</strong>?<br />
Alessia: Well… good, because good is wh<strong>at</strong> my parents want! Except <strong>in</strong> Music [as<br />
she is talk<strong>in</strong>g she shows him the book she is read<strong>in</strong>g, a music educ<strong>at</strong>ion textbook]<br />
fair… Really, wh<strong>at</strong> do I care how an <strong>in</strong>strument is made? I mean, I understand<br />
the notes, the bre<strong>at</strong>h<strong>in</strong>g, and all th<strong>at</strong>, but wh<strong>at</strong> do I care wh<strong>at</strong> the parts<br />
of the trombone are.<br />
Antonio: You’re lucky you don’t have to study th<strong>at</strong> <strong>in</strong> high <strong>school</strong>!!!<br />
Miodrag [<strong>in</strong>to the microphone]: Benv<strong>in</strong>guts a Barcellona! Esto es el primer lavoro<br />
de Gaudi. Mira che lampiones en esta plaza! Che l<strong>in</strong>dos soy!<br />
Antonio [with his nose smashed aga<strong>in</strong>st the w<strong>in</strong>dow and, us<strong>in</strong>g this as an excuse,<br />
very close to Alessia]: Look <strong>at</strong> those street lamps! No, really. The same stupid architect.<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> do they pay these guys to make these th<strong>in</strong>gs! Even I could do all<br />
th<strong>at</strong>. And even better.<br />
Alessia [ironically]: Oh yea?<br />
Antonio: Don’t tell me you like them!<br />
129
Alessia: I don’t know! But they’re better than the Art History books, <strong>at</strong> least here<br />
you can see them.<br />
Antonio: And most of all, no tests<br />
Alessia: Yes, maybe th<strong>at</strong>’s why!<br />
They laugh. Then Alessia gets up and goes to sit next to her mother. The bus is completely<br />
illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ed. Music Love the Way You Lie, Em<strong>in</strong>em – Rihanna.<br />
Alessia and Antonio are sitt<strong>in</strong>g far from each other. He looks <strong>at</strong> her, try<strong>in</strong>g not to be<br />
noticed. Every now and then she smiles <strong>at</strong> him. The «old people», beh<strong>in</strong>d cont<strong>in</strong>ue <strong>in</strong><br />
their various activities as before. One of them notices Antonio’s passion for Alessia and<br />
chuckles. The music fades, and the ambient noise grows, the light focuses on Antonio<br />
and Miodrag, who approaches him and whispers.<br />
Miodrag: Vayas a sentarte cerca de tu morosa, wh<strong>at</strong> are you still do<strong>in</strong>g here?<br />
Antonio [embarrassed]: How is it th<strong>at</strong> when a guy talks to another guy… it’s only<br />
a friend and when a guy talks to a girl… it’s his girlfriend?<br />
Miodrag [laugh<strong>in</strong>g and walk<strong>in</strong>g away]: Como quieras, mi amigo!<br />
Darkness and the music beg<strong>in</strong>s, flamenco. Antonio comes to the forestage and talks <strong>in</strong><br />
the direction of the audience, every now and then allud<strong>in</strong>g to some dance steps.<br />
Antonio: My voice was shaky. Like my heart wanted to put a sock <strong>in</strong> my stupid<br />
mouth th<strong>at</strong> only wanted to express wh<strong>at</strong> my bra<strong>in</strong> was th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g. Just then, I<br />
figured it all out, it wasn’t just friendship, it was love. I wanted to know if she<br />
loved me. If she was th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g about me. If there could be anyth<strong>in</strong>g between<br />
us. I wanted to know wh<strong>at</strong> she was th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g. I thought about wh<strong>at</strong> she might<br />
be th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g. Wh<strong>at</strong>’s she do<strong>in</strong>g? Is she laugh<strong>in</strong>g? Cry<strong>in</strong>g? Why?<br />
I was scar<strong>in</strong>g myself. I didn’t understand. My heart. Stop it. Let me th<strong>in</strong>k with<br />
my bra<strong>in</strong>. Noth<strong>in</strong>g. Just be<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g. Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom ba-boom.<br />
Ba-boom ba-boom. Ba-boom ba-boom ba-boom. Ba-boom ba-boom baboom.<br />
Ba-boom ba-boom ba-boom ba-boom ba-boom. Ba-boom ba-boom<br />
ba-boom ba-boom. My heart sped up. Wh<strong>at</strong>’s she th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g? Wh<strong>at</strong>’s she do<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Is she th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g about me? Who’s she th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g about? It’s flamenco. The<br />
pound<strong>in</strong>g heels made my heart be<strong>at</strong> even faster.<br />
My whole body was <strong>in</strong> turmoil. Swe<strong>at</strong>y. A thousand be<strong>at</strong>s a m<strong>in</strong>ute. This is<br />
how she lured me <strong>in</strong>to her <strong>in</strong>fernal trap. Right, because she didn’t even love<br />
me. The bus took us to the hotel. I’d had it.<br />
Damn love, why do I still fall for you? Maybe a little sleep would help me get<br />
rid of th<strong>at</strong> love. The next morn<strong>in</strong>g I even took a shower, like I could wash love<br />
130
away. Yet th<strong>at</strong> damned love was still there. But it subsided and <strong>at</strong> least allowed<br />
me to live. Live lov<strong>in</strong>g, without suffer<strong>in</strong>g too much.<br />
Another couple of dance moves and the music piece is over. Darkness.<br />
The noise of the bus starts up aga<strong>in</strong>, light is aga<strong>in</strong> cast on their two se<strong>at</strong>s.<br />
Antonio: Do you want to listen to some music?<br />
Alessia: No thanks, I’m tired.<br />
Antonio: You’re right. But remember, if you don’t want to wake up because<br />
you’re tired, you’re go<strong>in</strong>g to have to because we’ve got to see the city. If you<br />
want to wake up, you’ll be ready for the day and l<strong>at</strong>er it won’t be so hard. Anyway,<br />
you don’t have much time to sleep and you won’t be able to do anyth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
but try and wake up.<br />
Alessia: Wh<strong>at</strong> did you say?<br />
Antonio: No, wh<strong>at</strong> I wanted to say was…<br />
Alessia: Yea, right. I got it… but I’m tired!<br />
Antonio: Well, I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to listen to this Michael Jackson CD. If you want, you<br />
can listen to it too. [s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g She’s go<strong>in</strong>g Hollywood / She’s go<strong>in</strong>g Hollywood<br />
tonight / She’s go<strong>in</strong>g Hollywood / She’s go<strong>in</strong>g Hollywood tonight / It’s true, th<strong>at</strong><br />
you…]<br />
Alessia closes her eyes. After a few seconds, Antonio takes off one of his earphones and,<br />
elbow<strong>in</strong>g Alessia, hands it to her.<br />
Antonio: You’ve got to listen to this!<br />
Alessia [yawn<strong>in</strong>g]: Ok…<br />
Antonio [s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g I like the way you are hold<strong>in</strong>g me / It doesn’t m<strong>at</strong>ter how you’re lov<strong>in</strong>g<br />
me / I like the way you are lov<strong>in</strong>g me / it doesn’t m<strong>at</strong>ter how you’re hold<strong>in</strong>g me<br />
/ I like the way… too bad, Hollywood… / Too bad / Hollywood… / Monster / He’s<br />
a monster He’s an animal…]: Gre<strong>at</strong>! I don’t get much of it, but the little I get<br />
is enough.<br />
Alessia: F<strong>in</strong>ally, it’s over!<br />
Antonio: The last few songs on the CD are k<strong>in</strong>d of bor<strong>in</strong>g, aren’t they?<br />
Alessia: Yea, pretty bor<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Antonio: Listen to this… you’d never heard Hollywood Tonight before. At first<br />
it sounds like church music. Wait ‘til it gets go<strong>in</strong>g. You’ll see, you’ll like it.<br />
Miodrag: Ti-tu We’re here. Esta mañana visitamos la Sagrada Famiglia y la casa<br />
de Gaudi.<br />
Alessia: Here. [giv<strong>in</strong>g him back his earphones]<br />
131
Antonio [look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> her]: You did it on purpose because you don’t like my music,<br />
didn’t you?<br />
Alessia smiles. Cut to darkness.<br />
Music: H<strong>at</strong>e th<strong>at</strong> I love you, Rihanna. Antonio moves to the front of the stage toward<br />
the audience, as if he were whisper<strong>in</strong>g to them.<br />
Antonio: I had never seen anyth<strong>in</strong>g so beautiful. Amaz<strong>in</strong>g. I take back wh<strong>at</strong> I<br />
said before about Gaudí, look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> those street lamps. Gaudí is a master. Nobody,<br />
not even I, could do better. I looked around me, astounded: th<strong>at</strong> genius<br />
cre<strong>at</strong>ed all of this. Even so, from time to time I gazed around aimlessly, look<strong>in</strong>g<br />
for her, Alessia. Wh<strong>at</strong> a wonderful name. After see<strong>in</strong>g all th<strong>at</strong>, we went<br />
back to the bus. There she was aga<strong>in</strong>. Close to me. I love you. When we got<br />
back to the hotel, I laid down on the bed and listened to I Like the Way You<br />
Love Me. While I was listen<strong>in</strong>g to it, I thought about her and imag<strong>in</strong>ed where<br />
she might be. At d<strong>in</strong>ner, she s<strong>at</strong> far away from me. I felt bad. And here aga<strong>in</strong><br />
f<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong>tervened. She put her right <strong>in</strong> front of me. I didn’t even have to turn my<br />
head, move my chair. She was right <strong>in</strong> front of me. Two tables ahead of me,<br />
but <strong>in</strong> front of me. But the next morn<strong>in</strong>g, she was gone. I overheard wh<strong>at</strong> her<br />
parents were say<strong>in</strong>g, pretend<strong>in</strong>g not to listen: «She stayed <strong>in</strong> the hotel, she didn’t<br />
feel very well… ».<br />
Music: La notte, Modà. Outside the w<strong>in</strong>dows it starts to ra<strong>in</strong> and the city turns grey.<br />
Antonio: NO! She isn’t… Why? Me… her… Wh<strong>at</strong>? And… but… how? No way.<br />
A morn<strong>in</strong>g without her. A morn<strong>in</strong>g without sun. Even n<strong>at</strong>ure seemed to suffer<br />
from her absence. Everyth<strong>in</strong>g was grey. It made up for my pa<strong>in</strong>. It even<br />
managed to ease it a bit. Altern<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g loud music with quiet music. And I had<br />
fun anyway, look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the other people, but <strong>in</strong>side, darkness. Night.<br />
Night. / The faded sun w<strong>at</strong>ches me / cry<strong>in</strong>g like me. / I am cry<strong>in</strong>g, but without<br />
tears: / my heart is cry<strong>in</strong>g, / a moment of pa<strong>in</strong>. / Night.<br />
This is wh<strong>at</strong> I felt <strong>in</strong>side. Outside, I was laugh<strong>in</strong>g with Miodrag and his friend.<br />
We got back to the hotel. She was still <strong>in</strong> her room.<br />
Do I go? Do I not go? Does she want company? Right, I’ll go, you know how<br />
bor<strong>in</strong>g it is be<strong>in</strong>g alone! Not necessarily, maybe she likes it. So then I’ll go and<br />
ask her! And if she’s sleep<strong>in</strong>g? Knock<strong>in</strong>g on the door will wake her up. And<br />
maybe she’s even too weak to answer the door. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Tilt.<br />
In the end, question or no question, I didn’t go.<br />
132
Cut. Darkness.<br />
Light on the bus. Music.<br />
Antonio with earphones and a comic book. Sulk<strong>in</strong>g. Suddenly he is startled when<br />
Alessia comes up to him.<br />
Alessia: Can I sit here?<br />
Antonio: Sure. Hi.<br />
Alessia: Hi.<br />
Antonio: How do you feel?<br />
Alessia: Pretty good.<br />
Antonio: How’s your sore thro<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Alessia: Pretty good.<br />
Antonio: You’ve sure got a ready response. Your «pretty good» rem<strong>in</strong>ds me<br />
ofanswers to questions like how did it go <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>… «f<strong>in</strong>e».<br />
Alessia: Maybe.<br />
Then she picks up her mobile and beg<strong>in</strong>s text messag<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Antonio sits there like an idiot. After a while, Alessia puts <strong>in</strong> one of the earphones and<br />
gives the other to Antonio.<br />
Alessia: Want one? Just know, I don’t listen to cheesy music like you.<br />
Antonio: Ok.<br />
Alessia: This way you get to know someth<strong>in</strong>g besides just cheesy music.<br />
Antonio: Me? And if I used to listen to punk, rock, etcetera?<br />
Alessia: Ok. This is Californic<strong>at</strong>ion.<br />
Antonio: I’ve heard of it, you know. In fact, I know all the lyrics by heart and I<br />
even know how to play it on the guitar, even the guitar solo. It’s my specialty.<br />
Alessia [ironically]: Wow!<br />
Cut. Darkness. Californic<strong>at</strong>ion starts to play. Spotlight on Antonio <strong>in</strong> the forestage,<br />
<strong>def</strong><strong>in</strong>itely depressed.<br />
Antonio: She doesn’t love me, there’s no doubt about it now. She doesn’t even<br />
see me. But my heart be<strong>at</strong>s for her! New Year’s Eve is here. Time to party. I<br />
want to party too, but wh<strong>at</strong> about her? I was hop<strong>in</strong>g she’d come with me,<br />
but… I look beh<strong>in</strong>d me. In front of me. Noth<strong>in</strong>g. She isn’t here. Damn New<br />
Year, you haven’t even got here and you’ve already done this to me. I turn<br />
around. It’s her. With her parents. All right! Way to go! I’m too good!<br />
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Slight light<strong>in</strong>g change, weakly illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g the passengers on the bus, all dressed elegantly<br />
and excited; among them, Alessia. New music, party music. An enormous clock<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>st the backdrop beg<strong>in</strong>s the countdown 59, 58, 57, etc.<br />
Antonio [still <strong>in</strong> the forestage]: The New Year arrived without us know<strong>in</strong>g exactly<br />
when. At least she was there next to me, <strong>in</strong> the middle of th<strong>at</strong> herd of old fogies<br />
wish<strong>in</strong>g me a happy New Year.<br />
A piece of advice: don’t celebr<strong>at</strong>e New Year’s Eve <strong>at</strong> Piazza di Spagna; if you’re<br />
<strong>in</strong> Barcelona, celebr<strong>at</strong>e it on the beach.<br />
Piazza di Spagna: there’s noth<strong>in</strong>g there. Plaza C<strong>at</strong>alunya: total chaos, and ambulances…<br />
but the beach is freak<strong>in</strong>g cool!!!<br />
On the way back, we kept talk<strong>in</strong>g but my love was slowly wan<strong>in</strong>g. And this is<br />
how my heart was stilled, with no regrets. And I was ok. Love went away <strong>in</strong> the<br />
same way it came: I woke up after New Year’s Eve and I almost didn’t love her.<br />
I woke up the next day and I didn’t love her anymore.<br />
At the end of the joke, the clock aga<strong>in</strong>st the backdrop shows 00:00.<br />
Darkness. The sound of fireworks and loud music.<br />
The music cont<strong>in</strong>ues and the clock aga<strong>in</strong>st the backdrop speeds ahead.<br />
It suddenly stops <strong>at</strong> 1:15 pm.<br />
Light on the stage, the scene has completely changed. A small studio apartment, very<br />
Spanish-look<strong>in</strong>g. Sofa-bed closed, a little table with two chairs, a small wardrobe and<br />
a camp stove rest<strong>in</strong>g on a small cab<strong>in</strong>et.<br />
Alessia, now thirty years old, enters and exits backstage, which «leads <strong>in</strong>to the b<strong>at</strong>hroom»;<br />
she is gett<strong>in</strong>g dressed and talk<strong>in</strong>g on her mobile. In the background there is the<br />
voice of someone speak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Spanish on a small television.<br />
All throughout the second act, the voice on the television <strong>in</strong> the background can always<br />
be heard.<br />
Alessia [as she is exit<strong>in</strong>g and enter<strong>in</strong>g the scene, gett<strong>in</strong>g dressed]: Anyway, this morn<strong>in</strong>g<br />
I was on the street and suddenly someone shouts: «Alessia!». So I turn<br />
around and see this guy… His face looked familiar, but I had no idea who he<br />
was. He looks <strong>at</strong> me with these glassy eyes… No, maybe he just hasn’t slept <strong>in</strong><br />
days. At one po<strong>in</strong>t, he says, «Is th<strong>at</strong> you?». Wh<strong>at</strong> a question: it’s obvious it’s<br />
me! But he keeps go<strong>in</strong>g, «Is th<strong>at</strong> you, Alessia?». But, I swear, I had no idea who<br />
he was, so I ask him, right? I tell him, «Yes, it’s me. But who are you?». And he<br />
says, «Antonio. Don’t you remember?». Noth<strong>in</strong>g, a total blank. Then he says,<br />
«New Year’s Eve? We celebr<strong>at</strong>ed it right here, <strong>in</strong> Barcelona». But me, noth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
I still don’t remember anyth<strong>in</strong>g. And he goes, «Come on, th<strong>at</strong> organized tour,<br />
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when was it? Yea, <strong>in</strong> 2010, and we were the only kids and we spent almost all<br />
our time together: I let you listen to my cheesy music and th<strong>at</strong> Michael Jackson<br />
CD, and you and your cheesy music and old songs. We were… ». Then I<br />
figured it out! He was a guy I met the first time I came to Barcelona, I was with<br />
my parents and he, he was a few years older than me, kept follow<strong>in</strong>g me<br />
around like a puppy, mak<strong>in</strong>g me listen to this horrible music. [Alessia laughs<br />
<strong>at</strong> someth<strong>in</strong>g her friend says on the phone] Yea, I know it’s been more than ten<br />
years! Who knows, he apparently has a terrific memory, I never would’ve recognized<br />
him… But maybe he remembers me because it was his first time <strong>in</strong><br />
Barcelona too. How could you forget a city like this? Th<strong>at</strong>’s why I moved<br />
here!… Anyway, to make a long story short, he asked me out tonight… Right,<br />
he asked me out to d<strong>in</strong>ner. But I don’t know, he should be here to pick me up<br />
any m<strong>in</strong>ute, no, no I’m not ready yet… It’s just I don’t know if I should wear<br />
the red dress or the flowered one… Yes, he’s really nice, I didn’t even remember<br />
him be<strong>in</strong>g so nice, and he seems like he’s really got it together… No, I<br />
don’t know, we only talked for five m<strong>in</strong>utes, on the street, tonight he’ll tell me<br />
a little bit more about himself… So? The red dress or the flowered one? Ok,<br />
I’ll try the red one… [just as Alessia slips on her dress, the doorbell r<strong>in</strong>gs] Damn,<br />
he’s already here and I’m not even ready yet… [laugh<strong>in</strong>g] Yea, right a good excuse<br />
to make him come up… Come on, I’ve got to go now, I’ll call you tomorrow<br />
and tell you all about it… Yea, yea, bye!<br />
Alessia hangs up and answers the <strong>in</strong>tercom.<br />
Alessia: Hi, can you come up a m<strong>in</strong>ute while I f<strong>in</strong>ish gett<strong>in</strong>g ready?<br />
As she is wait<strong>in</strong>g for Antonio to come up, Alessia picks up a bunch of clothes and shoves<br />
them <strong>in</strong>to the wardrobe. Antonio enters the scene, also <strong>in</strong> his thirties, jeans and a<br />
swe<strong>at</strong>er. He is a good-look<strong>in</strong>g guy, but he looks tired and drawn.<br />
Alessia: Sorry, I’m a little l<strong>at</strong>e. Sit down and I’ll pour you a glass of w<strong>in</strong>e while I<br />
f<strong>in</strong>ish up.<br />
Antonio sits down on the sofa, Alessia br<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> two glasses of red w<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Alessia: Let make a toast! To New Year’s Eve meet<strong>in</strong>gs!<br />
Antonio: Yes, it seems like we’re only dest<strong>in</strong>ed to see each other <strong>in</strong> Barcelona on<br />
the thirtieth of December… it’s a little strange, isn’t it? Dest<strong>in</strong>y…<br />
Alessia: Yea, pretty strange.<br />
135
Antonio: I see you haven’t forgotten your ready response…<br />
Alessia [laugh<strong>in</strong>g]: It’s true, I’d almost forgotten how much it bothered you th<strong>at</strong><br />
I always answered with «pretty». Come on, I’ll f<strong>in</strong>ish gett<strong>in</strong>g ready, it’ll just<br />
take me a m<strong>in</strong>ute.<br />
Alessia exits to backstage.<br />
Antonio: So, do you live here now?<br />
Alessia [from offstage]: Yes, for the last five years!<br />
Antonio: I’m so envious! I would’ve liked to have moved earlier too. But, I f<strong>in</strong>ally<br />
I did it. Tomorrow I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to check out my new house. From the pictures<br />
it looks gre<strong>at</strong>, spacious, full of light…<br />
Alessia [re-enter<strong>in</strong>g the scene and beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g to prepare her bag]: Now I’m envious<br />
of you! I live <strong>in</strong> a forty meter square apartment with just one w<strong>in</strong>dow!<br />
Antonio: Well, but it’s really nice <strong>in</strong> here.<br />
Alessia: Yea, it’s pretty nice, oh, I’m sorry, my ready response! So your new<br />
house, where is it?<br />
Antonio: Not too far from here, but I’m not exactly sure. I still don’t know my<br />
way around. I th<strong>in</strong>k it’s called Carrer d’Alcolea…<br />
Alessia: Right, I know where it is. Well, if you want, tomorrow is Sunday, so I<br />
could come with you, th<strong>at</strong> way I could show you the way…<br />
Antonio: Sure! Thanks<br />
Alessia: Ok, I’m ready, f<strong>in</strong>ally!<br />
Antonio: Perfect, do you want to go get someth<strong>in</strong>g to e<strong>at</strong>? How about Italian?<br />
Alessia: Yes, it’s been two years s<strong>in</strong>ce I <strong>at</strong>e Italian.<br />
Alessia puts on her jacket, Antonio, stand<strong>in</strong>g there, looks embarrassed.<br />
Alessia: Shall we go?<br />
Antonio [hesit<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g]: Y-Yes…<br />
Alessia: Someth<strong>in</strong>g the m<strong>at</strong>ter?<br />
Antonio: No, I’m just a little embarrassed…<br />
Alessia: And why?<br />
Antonio: Well, I didn’t book a hotel because I thought I would be able to get <strong>in</strong>to<br />
the new house today. Then there was this misunderstand<strong>in</strong>g and they postponed<br />
it to tomorrow. I called a bunch of hotels but it’s December 30 th and<br />
you can’t even f<strong>in</strong>d a room. So, but only if it isn’t any hassle, right, I<br />
thought… you couldn’t let me stay here tonight, could you?<br />
Alessia: Why sure! [look<strong>in</strong>g around] It’ll be a little tight…<br />
136
Antonio: Thanks. So, shall we get go<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
The two of them exit. Darkness on the stage. The stage lights raise. Alessia is halfasleep<br />
<strong>in</strong> her bed. Antonio enters the scene with breakfast.<br />
Antonio: Good morn<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Alessia: Good morn<strong>in</strong>g to you… Oh, thanks!<br />
Alessia beg<strong>in</strong>s to ea., Antonio is stand<strong>in</strong>g up, hesitant…<br />
Alessia: Are you already ready to leave?<br />
Antonio: So, before go<strong>in</strong>g to see the house I have to do someth<strong>in</strong>g… I would’ve<br />
told you last night but then we got to talk<strong>in</strong>g about other th<strong>in</strong>gs… I’m a little<br />
bit embarrassed… it’s not wh<strong>at</strong> it looks like, I…<br />
Alessia: Now you’re worry<strong>in</strong>g me, wh<strong>at</strong>’s happened?<br />
Antonio: So, I have to go to the airport, my wife will be here <strong>in</strong> an hour!<br />
Alessia sits there with her brioche <strong>in</strong> mid-air. Shocked.<br />
Antonio: Really, right now I don’t have time, but l<strong>at</strong>er, I’ll expla<strong>in</strong> everyth<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
Alessia: It doesn’t seem like there’s much to expla<strong>in</strong>. Thanks for the breakfast<br />
and close the door beh<strong>in</strong>d you on your way out.<br />
Antonio: Really, it’s not wh<strong>at</strong> it looks like.<br />
Alessia: Sure, now if you wouldn’t m<strong>in</strong>d…<br />
Antonio: Alright, I’m out of here. But promise me l<strong>at</strong>er you’ll let me expla<strong>in</strong>…<br />
Alessia: Of course… Good-bye.<br />
Antonio exits the scene. Alessia bursts <strong>in</strong>to tears while she f<strong>in</strong>ishes her brioche. Darkness<br />
on the stage.<br />
The lights go on. Alessia’s voice can be heard offstage. She’s on the telephone.<br />
Alessia: Yes, Yes, I admit it. I like him. I really like him. Strange, because ten<br />
years ago I wouldn’t have even considered lik<strong>in</strong>g him. But I’m just look<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
get hurt here. [enter<strong>in</strong>g the stage] Wh<strong>at</strong> does this guy want from me? I like him.<br />
And th<strong>at</strong>’s not all. I th<strong>in</strong>k could fall <strong>in</strong> love with him. The way he is, he’s so<br />
cute. Sure, me too! How could a guy like him not be married?… Anyway, he<br />
sent me a message ask<strong>in</strong>g if we could get together this afternoon and I even<br />
said yes. Idiot. Idiot. Why did I say yes? [imit<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g Antonio’s voice] «Ok… I’ll<br />
see you <strong>at</strong> Plaza C<strong>at</strong>alunya <strong>in</strong> front of the Hard Rock Cafè <strong>at</strong> 3 pm, ok?».<br />
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Idiot, me, not him! Idiot. At 2:50 I’m there, <strong>in</strong> front of the Hard Rock. He’s<br />
nowhere to be seen. Not even <strong>at</strong> 3. And me, like a moron, <strong>in</strong>stead of leav<strong>in</strong>g I<br />
stay there hop<strong>in</strong>g for this impossible love. Why? And I keep tell<strong>in</strong>g myself he’s<br />
go<strong>in</strong>g to show up, he can’t stand me up! And then I get a text say<strong>in</strong>g, «Sorry, I<br />
can’t make it. Can we get together tonight»… No, I haven’t answered him!<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> am I supposed to tell him?<br />
I don’t want to get hurt, but I don’t want to regret miss<strong>in</strong>g the bo<strong>at</strong> forever,<br />
even though I th<strong>in</strong>k I’m the only one who sees this as an opportunity. But excuse<br />
me, why isn’t he celebr<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g New Year’s Eve with his wife? Why is he call<strong>in</strong>g<br />
me? I don’t know wh<strong>at</strong> I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to tell him… I have to th<strong>in</strong>k about it…<br />
Now I’ve got to go pick up some groceries, I have to remember to buy twelve<br />
grapes. Right, and then I’ll e<strong>at</strong> one every time the clock strikes… all by myself!<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong>… Really, you th<strong>in</strong>k I should give him a chance… I don’t know, I’ll<br />
th<strong>in</strong>k about it… Yea, alright, talk to you l<strong>at</strong>er.<br />
Alessia hangs up and cont<strong>in</strong>ues sitt<strong>in</strong>g on the sofa, th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g. After a while, she picks<br />
up her mobile and mutters while she writes a message.<br />
Alessia: Come over tonight <strong>at</strong> ten. We have to talk.<br />
Darkness on the stage.<br />
Light raises on the stage. Alessia paces nervously and keeps look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> her w<strong>at</strong>ch.<br />
Alessia [to herself]: Now, enough wait<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
She hears the doorbell. A second l<strong>at</strong>er Antonio enters the stage, bre<strong>at</strong>hless and all dishevelled.<br />
Antonio: Sorry I’m l<strong>at</strong>e, the city was a mess.<br />
Alessia is silent, offended.<br />
Antonio: We’re separ<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g!<br />
Alessia rema<strong>in</strong>s silent.<br />
Antonio: Would you believe me if I told you I never forgot you?<br />
Alessia [sourly]: Wh<strong>at</strong> is this, the same old story, you never forget your first love?<br />
Yet it seems to me you forgot you were married pretty quickly the other night!<br />
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Antonio: Let me repe<strong>at</strong> th<strong>at</strong>, we are separ<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Alessia: And th<strong>at</strong>’s why you’re here <strong>in</strong> Barcelona together?<br />
Antonio: Francesca is Spanish. We met <strong>in</strong> Italy but we got married here, for her<br />
family. We’ve always lived <strong>in</strong> Italy and she wanted to stay there, but the papers<br />
needed to be signed here, th<strong>at</strong>’s why she came. Today I ran l<strong>at</strong>e with the<br />
lawyer, th<strong>at</strong>’s why I missed our meet<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
Alessia: I need a dr<strong>in</strong>k!<br />
She pours some w<strong>in</strong>e and offers it to Antonio.<br />
Antonio: I know you wanted to spend New Year’s Eve on the beach, but if we<br />
leave now we risk spend<strong>in</strong>g it stuck <strong>in</strong> the car. It’s almost midnight. Wh<strong>at</strong> do<br />
you want to do?<br />
Alessia: Does this mean the issue of «you married – me lover» is now resolved?<br />
Antonio: I love you. I’ve loved you s<strong>in</strong>ce the day we met. I didn’t th<strong>in</strong>k I was still<br />
<strong>in</strong> love, but I realized I was the m<strong>in</strong>ute I saw you. I would’ve left my wife anyway,<br />
but after last night I thought it was better to speed th<strong>in</strong>gs up, for me, for<br />
you and for her too.<br />
Alessia: Ah!<br />
Antonio: So, wh<strong>at</strong> do you want to do?<br />
Alessia picks a small bag up off the table and takes out a bunch of grapes.<br />
Alessia: Here <strong>in</strong> Barcelona we have a tradition, you have to e<strong>at</strong> a grape each time<br />
the clock strikes. They say it br<strong>in</strong>gs good luck.<br />
The lights go down, the you can hear the party music from their first New Year’s Eve<br />
along with fireworks and noise. The clock aga<strong>in</strong>st the backdrop beg<strong>in</strong>s a countdown:<br />
10, 9, 8, etc. Alessia and Antonio look <strong>at</strong> each other <strong>in</strong> silence.<br />
The clock shows 00:00. Alessia gives a grape to Antonio, but Antonio kisses her.<br />
Darkness.<br />
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SCENE I<br />
My name is Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Ana Isabel Andrade Luna<br />
ADAPTED BY<br />
Elisa Bortolomedi<br />
A one act play<br />
Curta<strong>in</strong>s closed, a chair <strong>in</strong> the forestage and the spotlight on Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra. Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra is<br />
a girl, about twenty years old. She is elegantly dressed with a ple<strong>at</strong>ed skirt and a<br />
blouse. She is sitt<strong>in</strong>g up very straight.<br />
Voice from offstage: So, tell me about yourself…<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [tak<strong>in</strong>g a deep bre<strong>at</strong>h and smil<strong>in</strong>g]: I really don’t know where to beg<strong>in</strong>,<br />
because I th<strong>in</strong>k every story conta<strong>in</strong>s millions of moments and memories and<br />
events. [then, as if struck by <strong>in</strong>sight] Even though my story is all connected to<br />
my name.<br />
My name is Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra. With a K, m<strong>in</strong>d you. Not a C.<br />
It was my mother who decided wh<strong>at</strong> to call me, just her!<br />
My mother loves history, Greece, but especially Egypt and ancient Rome.<br />
She’s <strong>in</strong> love with history, language, culture. To tell you the truth, she’s <strong>in</strong> love<br />
with historical figures too, though she prefers the ancient Romans to the<br />
Egyptians. [smil<strong>in</strong>g to herself] By «historical figures» I mean men… Seriously,<br />
my mother adores Roman men, but not modern Roman men, the ones from<br />
centuries ago. She says they’re charm<strong>in</strong>g, [she cont<strong>in</strong>ues mischievously] but I<br />
don’t understand why s<strong>in</strong>ce the only th<strong>in</strong>g left of them are st<strong>at</strong>ues and st<strong>at</strong>ues<br />
and st<strong>at</strong>ues and noth<strong>in</strong>g else. Though you’ve got to admit they did have beau-<br />
140
tiful bodies. [she pauses a moment as if reflect<strong>in</strong>g, then returns to the audience and<br />
beg<strong>in</strong>s talk<strong>in</strong>g aga<strong>in</strong>] Yes, there’s no doubt my mother’s passion for ancient<br />
history has marked my entire existence, s<strong>in</strong>ce before I was born you could<br />
say… You wouldn’t believe it but she fell <strong>in</strong> love and married my f<strong>at</strong>her, and<br />
my f<strong>at</strong>her’s name is Julius Caesar. Sometimes I th<strong>in</strong>k she fell <strong>in</strong> love with my<br />
f<strong>at</strong>her because of his name. [almost talk<strong>in</strong>g to herself] Wh<strong>at</strong> I’ve always found<br />
strange, and even a little disturb<strong>in</strong>g, is th<strong>at</strong> Emperor Julius Caesar and<br />
Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra had a love affair, then they betrayed each other and everyth<strong>in</strong>g ended<br />
up pretty bad.<br />
But these are all just details to my mother, [imit<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g her mother’s voice] «historical<br />
<strong>in</strong>form<strong>at</strong>ion of little value». For her Julius Caesar was a fasc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g and<br />
<strong>in</strong>v<strong>in</strong>cible leader and Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra was a strong woman, cultured, self-assured<br />
and beautiful. I th<strong>in</strong>k this is why she always really loved my f<strong>at</strong>her and, from<br />
the time I was young, always wanted me to become an educ<strong>at</strong>ed, knowledgeable<br />
woman. [aga<strong>in</strong> imit<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g her mother’s voice]<br />
«She’ll be my diamond», she always said when she and her friends began to<br />
talk about their children <strong>in</strong> the sitt<strong>in</strong>g room.<br />
Her diamond! Th<strong>at</strong>’s how it all began. My mother was conv<strong>in</strong>ced th<strong>at</strong><br />
Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra was a woman of encyclopaedic culture, and so she rolled up her<br />
sleeves and got down to mak<strong>in</strong>g me live up to my name [speed<strong>in</strong>g up the<br />
rhythm] she dragged me to the library <strong>at</strong> least twice a week, she taught me addition<br />
and subtraction while I was still <strong>in</strong> pre<strong>school</strong>, she made me read books,<br />
write stories, visit museums.<br />
K pauses for a moment, then beg<strong>in</strong>s aga<strong>in</strong>, ironically<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra: But Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra was also a Queen! And for my mom this meant she<br />
was well-mannered and knew how to behave, and so [mim<strong>in</strong>g her words with<br />
stylized gestures] this is how you use your silverware, this is how you reach with<br />
your hand, sit <strong>at</strong> the table like this, shoulders straight, head up, stand up<br />
straighter, be more fem<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>e, if you meet a man greet him like this, if you<br />
meet an old person like this, if you pass another girl do this, if you pass a boy<br />
do this.<br />
At the end of her antics the lights change and the curta<strong>in</strong>s open. Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra rema<strong>in</strong>s<br />
frozen <strong>in</strong> her last pose, her back to the audience, hand extended as if wait<strong>in</strong>g for an<br />
<strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>ion from a gentleman <strong>at</strong> a ball.<br />
141
SCENE II<br />
The curta<strong>in</strong>s open and the chair Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra is sitt<strong>in</strong>g on becomes part of the scene. It is<br />
a chair from a kitchen table. We are <strong>in</strong> a modest but tidy kitchen: <strong>in</strong> the center of the<br />
kitchen there is a table and four chair. Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra is sitt<strong>in</strong>g on one of them. She and her<br />
mother are <strong>in</strong> the scene, her mother is tidy<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>in</strong>gs up. She is 45 years old, still <strong>at</strong>tractive<br />
and a bit extravagantly dressed, nonetheless appear<strong>in</strong>g elegant and well-groomed.<br />
The dialog is a cont<strong>in</strong>u<strong>at</strong>ion of wh<strong>at</strong> Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra was say<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> the previous scene.<br />
Mama: If you meet an extr<strong>at</strong>errestrial, please, be polite.!<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [wh<strong>in</strong>e and tired as she puts on a large cardigan rest<strong>in</strong>g on another chair]:<br />
Oh mom, you are so obsessed with every aspect of my educ<strong>at</strong>ion th<strong>at</strong> you<br />
don’t realize you’re driv<strong>in</strong>g me crazy!!! [<strong>in</strong> a firmer tone] Don’t you see th<strong>at</strong> I<br />
could go for tea <strong>at</strong> Buck<strong>in</strong>gham Palace and put the Queen to shame?<br />
A mobile vibr<strong>at</strong>es on the table, Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra looks <strong>at</strong> it and puts it <strong>in</strong> her pocket.<br />
Mama: Oh for heaven’s sake Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra, it’s rude not to answer the telephone.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [firm and sharp]: It’s much more impolite to bother the people<br />
around you with persistent r<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
Mama: But… [then waver<strong>in</strong>g she falls silent, picks up a basket of ironed clothes and<br />
as she is exit<strong>in</strong>g the stage says to herself] Ah, if only Queen Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra had had a<br />
mobile.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra shakes her head. The telephone r<strong>in</strong>gs aga<strong>in</strong> and this time she answers it.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra: Hello? Yes, hi Emma, sorry but I had the r<strong>in</strong>ger turned off, right, as<br />
usual, I know, wh<strong>at</strong>’s up?… No, it was noth<strong>in</strong>g. I was just argu<strong>in</strong>g with my<br />
mom for a change! And you, wh<strong>at</strong> do you th<strong>in</strong>k? If we had been born <strong>in</strong> our<br />
mother’s time, would we be like them? Yes, you’re right, th<strong>at</strong>’s just the way<br />
they are but sometimes I ask myself wh<strong>at</strong> it would’ve been like to have been<br />
born dur<strong>in</strong>g Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra’s time… Or if I’d been born dur<strong>in</strong>g my mom’s time,<br />
the fifties and sixties. I wonder wh<strong>at</strong> I would’ve been like, or who my parents<br />
would’ve been? Who would’ve been the love of my life, s<strong>in</strong>ce people married<br />
really young <strong>in</strong> those days. Or maybe I would have been work<strong>in</strong>g, but do<strong>in</strong>g<br />
wh<strong>at</strong>? Yes, yes, I’m ok, it’s just th<strong>at</strong> I’ve really got <strong>in</strong>to the fifties and sixties<br />
l<strong>at</strong>ely, the music especially. I’m <strong>in</strong> love with their voices more than anyth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
else. It’s as if you can hear truth <strong>in</strong> their voices. Maybe I’m wrong or maybe I<br />
should just expla<strong>in</strong> myself better. It’s like every time I listen to th<strong>at</strong> music it<br />
142
fills every nook and cranny of my body, takes me over… Really, I’m not exagger<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g.<br />
I truly feel th<strong>at</strong> way, as if the music were a friend. And maybe it was<br />
cre<strong>at</strong>ed for a reason different from wh<strong>at</strong> we understand now, and luckily this<br />
cre<strong>at</strong>ion has cont<strong>in</strong>ued on, never fad<strong>in</strong>g away. It’s been there for centuries and<br />
centuries, proud and brave, separ<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g and br<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g together, with the power<br />
to br<strong>in</strong>g happ<strong>in</strong>ess and torment. [she concludes <strong>in</strong> a commemor<strong>at</strong>ive tone] Oh<br />
God, I’m obsess<strong>in</strong>g like my mother… I’m talk<strong>in</strong>g about music like she talks<br />
about history… I don’t know, it must be typical of the women of my family,<br />
allow<strong>in</strong>g ourselves to be seduced and charmed by the past. I only hope I don’t<br />
call my daughter Aretha. Anyway… wh<strong>at</strong> was I say<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Fad<strong>in</strong>g out, the music comes back on and the lights go out. Background music <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> volume as the lights go out. Aretha Frankl<strong>in</strong>, I Say a Little Prayer For You.<br />
SCENE III<br />
The lights go up. Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra’s mother is <strong>in</strong> the kitchen prepar<strong>in</strong>g tea.<br />
Mama [shout<strong>in</strong>g]: Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra… Come down here, it’s five and tea is ready! [brief<br />
pause, then she starts <strong>in</strong> aga<strong>in</strong> more adamantly] Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra, how many times do<br />
I have to tell you th<strong>at</strong> you mustn’t keep people wait<strong>in</strong>g? If you do it with me<br />
you might also do it…<br />
She <strong>in</strong>terrupts herself when Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra enters dressed <strong>in</strong> a track suit or pyjamas, walk<strong>in</strong>g<br />
like zombie. She hugs her and bursts <strong>in</strong>to tears.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [sobb<strong>in</strong>g]: Mama, I don’t want to be an archaeologist or an anthropologist<br />
like I’ve always dreamed of. I’ve been th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g it over for a while and just<br />
don’t th<strong>in</strong>k it’s right for me.<br />
After a moment of shock, Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra’s mother starts sobb<strong>in</strong>g harder than Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra<br />
and the two of them hug each other <strong>in</strong> a melodram<strong>at</strong>ic little scene.<br />
Mama [she starts <strong>in</strong> aga<strong>in</strong>, sobb<strong>in</strong>g lightly]: Oh my little girl, I risked driv<strong>in</strong>g you<br />
mad with my obsess<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra: Yes, I know… so, I now wh<strong>at</strong> do I do?<br />
Mama: For now, sit down.<br />
143
While Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra is sitt<strong>in</strong>g down, her mother pours two cups of tea. Then she sits<br />
down, smil<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Mama: How do you th<strong>in</strong>k the Queen would have resolved her problems?<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [talk<strong>in</strong>g to herself]: How the hell am I supposed to know! [she turns to<br />
her mother and politely says] I don’t know mama, tell me!<br />
Mama [calm and helpful]: I th<strong>in</strong>k th<strong>at</strong> if the Queen had been diss<strong>at</strong>isfied with all<br />
she had and all she knew, she certa<strong>in</strong>ly would have gone to search for someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
new!<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [to herself]: Oh, I’d never really thought about th<strong>at</strong>…<br />
SCENE IV<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra’s mother is on the stage, she keeps look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> backstage. She looks like she is<br />
wait<strong>in</strong>g for someth<strong>in</strong>g. The doorbell r<strong>in</strong>gs, she exits and re-enters carry<strong>in</strong>g a suitcase,<br />
followed by Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra, dressed simply <strong>in</strong> jeans and a tee-shirt.<br />
Mama: Oh dear, it’s after five, have you had tea? I’ll br<strong>in</strong>g it for you. You sit<br />
down and tell me all about your trip!<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [sitt<strong>in</strong>g on the same chair as before]: Mama, I’ve been away for five<br />
months. I th<strong>in</strong>k tea can wait.<br />
As if she didn’t hear her, her mother fills two cups and sits down.<br />
Mama: Come on, come on. Sit down and tell me everyth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [she beg<strong>in</strong>s talk<strong>in</strong>g unwill<strong>in</strong>gly, star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the cups]: I’ve been to France:<br />
shopp<strong>in</strong>g. To England: discos. To Spa<strong>in</strong>: concerts. To India: spas. And now<br />
I’m home, more confused than ever before. Mama, wh<strong>at</strong> would Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra<br />
have done?<br />
Her mother takes a sip of tea. After a few moments of silence, Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra beg<strong>in</strong>s flipp<strong>in</strong>g<br />
through the newspaper on the table.<br />
Mama: Honey, you know it’s rude to read <strong>at</strong> the table.<br />
But Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra just ignores her. Then suddenly she jumps up and beg<strong>in</strong>s read<strong>in</strong>g someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
out loud.<br />
144
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra [<strong>in</strong> a very serious voice]: Listen mama, «Become an actor now».<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra beg<strong>in</strong>s slipp<strong>in</strong>g off her jeans and tee-shirt and takes the skirt and blouse from<br />
the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g out of her suitcase. While she is gett<strong>in</strong>g dressed, she talks excitedly.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra: Don’t you see? Become a famous actress, go to New York, act with<br />
Johnny Depp… [to herself, turn<strong>in</strong>g to the audience] Forget Julius Caesar!<br />
Aretha starts to play aga<strong>in</strong> with the clos<strong>in</strong>g of the curta<strong>in</strong>s, while she is button<strong>in</strong>g up<br />
her blouse.<br />
The curta<strong>in</strong>s close and Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra is <strong>in</strong> the forestage.<br />
SCENE V<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra is <strong>in</strong> the forestage with the spotlight on her, like the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra: And th<strong>at</strong>’s how I ended up here. On my way, I already thought I’d<br />
meet some famous actor and ask for an autograph. Then I got here and found<br />
out it’s all so different from wh<strong>at</strong> I expected. Outside there are tons of other<br />
kids like me. The secretary expla<strong>in</strong>ed someth<strong>in</strong>g to us but I wasn’t listen<strong>in</strong>g<br />
because I was too anxious for the tryouts and now I have to talk about myself<br />
<strong>in</strong>stead…<br />
I thought I would’ve answered th<strong>at</strong> I wanted to become an actress because I<br />
wanted to be famous and meet famous people, but <strong>in</strong>stead… I told you about<br />
my mother… But, while I was talk<strong>in</strong>g, I figured someth<strong>in</strong>g out [she gets up and<br />
beg<strong>in</strong>s to walk around the forestage] I’m proud of who I am and of my name. I’m<br />
sure of this p<strong>at</strong>h I’ve chosen. I’m also confident th<strong>at</strong> if Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra had been born<br />
<strong>in</strong> 1990 she would’ve been an actress, and she would’ve been a really goodone<br />
too! She already was <strong>in</strong> her time. I thank my mother for giv<strong>in</strong>g memy name and<br />
for everyth<strong>in</strong>g it has meant to me, but now it’s time to close the History book.<br />
I never would’ve imag<strong>in</strong>ed I’d have ended up here, so far from the future I<br />
imag<strong>in</strong>ed for myself as a little girl. But <strong>in</strong>the end, I’m just myself. And so,<br />
«Goodbye Cleop<strong>at</strong>ra with a C! And hello Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra… with a K!».<br />
She bows. Darkness.<br />
145
146<br />
Characters<br />
A game of football<br />
Aziza: fifteen year old Moroccan girl<br />
Stefano: seventeen year old Italian boy<br />
Old man: who represents Time<br />
Day: six year old boy dressed <strong>in</strong> yellow with a sun <strong>in</strong> his hair<br />
Night: six year old girl dressed <strong>in</strong> dark blue with the moon <strong>in</strong> her hair<br />
Methab: Aziza’s friend, sixteen years old, Pakistani<br />
Garik: Aziza’s friend, fourteen years old, Ukra<strong>in</strong>ian<br />
David: Aziza’s friend, sixteen years old, Kosovan<br />
Ardit: Aziza’s friend, sixteen years old, Albanian<br />
Mariem: Aziza’s friend, fifteen years old, Pakistani<br />
Elisa: Stefano’s friend, fifteen years old, Italian<br />
Roberto: Stefano’s friend, seventeen years old, Italian<br />
Giulio: Stefano’s friend, seventeen years old, Italian<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong>a: Stefano’s friend, sixteen years old, Italian<br />
Filippo: Stefano’s friend, sixteen years old, Italian
SCENE I<br />
There are three park benches on the stage arranged <strong>in</strong> a semicircle. Two are close to<br />
each other, then there is a garbage can and a streetlamp and the third bench. The<br />
scene is typical of a suburban city park.<br />
Aziza and her friends are sitt<strong>in</strong>g on the left bench. Ardit has a football <strong>in</strong> his hands.<br />
A radio sits near them on the bench. Stefano’s group is sitt<strong>in</strong>g on the opposite bench.<br />
The two groups are <strong>in</strong> freeze frame.<br />
An old man dressed <strong>in</strong> light-colored clothes is se<strong>at</strong>ed on the center bench. He face looks<br />
serene and he is flipp<strong>in</strong>g through a newspaper. The two children are on the ground<br />
next to him play<strong>in</strong>g with a huge map of the world and s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g Girotondo by Fabrizio<br />
De André:<br />
Se verrà la guerra, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
se verrà la guerra, Marcondiro’ndà<br />
sul mare e sulla terra, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
sul mare e sulla terra chi ci salverà?<br />
Ci salverà il sold<strong>at</strong>o che non la vorrà<br />
ci salverà il sold<strong>at</strong>o che la guerra rifiuterà.<br />
La guerra è già scoppi<strong>at</strong>a, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
la guerra è già scoppi<strong>at</strong>a, chi ci aiuterà.<br />
Ci aiuterà il buon Dio, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
ci aiuterà il buon Dio, lui ci salverà.<br />
Buon Dio è già scapp<strong>at</strong>o, dove non si sa<br />
buon Dio se n’è and<strong>at</strong>o, chissà quando ritornerà.<br />
L’aeroplano vola, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
l’aeroplano vola, Marcondiro’ndà.<br />
Se getterà la bomba, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
se getterà la bomba chi ci salverà?<br />
Ci salva l’avi<strong>at</strong>ore che non lo farà<br />
ci salva l’avi<strong>at</strong>ore che la bomba non getterà.<br />
La bomba è già caduta, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
la bomba è già caduta, chi la prenderà?<br />
La prenderanno tutti, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
siam belli o siam brutti, Marcondiro’ndà<br />
Siam grandi o siam picc<strong>in</strong>i li distruggerà<br />
siam furbi o siam cret<strong>in</strong>i li fulm<strong>in</strong>erà.<br />
Ci sono troppe buche, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
ci sono troppe buche, chi le riempirà?<br />
147
148<br />
Non potremo più giocare al Marcondiro’ndera<br />
non potremo più giocare al Marcondiro’ndà.<br />
E voi a divertirvi and<strong>at</strong>e un po’ più <strong>in</strong> là<br />
and<strong>at</strong>e a divertirvi dove la guerra non ci sarà.<br />
La guerra è dappertutto, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
la terra è tutta un lutto, chi la consolerà?<br />
Ci penseranno gli uom<strong>in</strong>i, le bestie i fiori<br />
i boschi e le stagioni con i mille colori.<br />
Di gente, bestie e fiori no, non ce n’è più<br />
viventi siam rimasti noi e nulla più.<br />
La terra è tutta nostra, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
ne faremo una gran giostra, Marcondiro’ndà.<br />
Abbiam tutta la terra Marcondiro’ndera<br />
giocheremo a far la guerra, Marcondiro’ndà…<br />
[ndt. The follow<strong>in</strong>g is a literal transl<strong>at</strong>ion of this song]<br />
If war breaks out, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
if war breaks out, Marcondiro’ndà<br />
on the land and on the sea, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
on the land and on the sea, who will save us?<br />
The soldier who doesn’t want it will save us<br />
the soldier who refuses to go to war will save us.<br />
War has already broken out, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
War has already broken out, who will help us.<br />
The Good God will help us, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
The Good God will help us, he will save us.<br />
The Good God has already run away, who knows where he’s gone<br />
The Good God has gone away, who knows when he’ll be back.<br />
An airplane is fly<strong>in</strong>g, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
An airplane is fly<strong>in</strong>g, Marcondiro’ndà<br />
If it drops a bomb, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
If it drops a bomb, who will save us?<br />
The pilot who doesn’t do it will save us<br />
The pilot who doesn’t drop the bomb will save us.<br />
The bomb has already fallen, Marcondiro’ndero<br />
The bombed has already fallen, who will it hit?<br />
It will hit all of us, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
Whether we are beautiful or ugly, Marcondiro’ndà.
Whether we’re big or small, it will destroy us<br />
Whether we’re clever or stupid, it will strike us down<br />
There are too many holes, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
There are too many holes, who will fill them up?<br />
We won’t be able to play Marcondiro’ndera<br />
we won’t be able to play Marcondiro’ndà<br />
And you’ll have to go farther away to play<br />
Go play where there is no war.<br />
The war is everywhere, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
The earth is <strong>in</strong> mourn<strong>in</strong>g, who will console her?<br />
Man, the beasts, the flowers,<br />
the forests and the season with their many different colours will console her.<br />
There aren’t anymore people, beasts or flowers<br />
We are the only liv<strong>in</strong>g be<strong>in</strong>gs and noth<strong>in</strong>g else.<br />
The earth is all ours, Marcondiro’ndera<br />
We make a giant carousel out of it Marcondiro’ndà<br />
We’re got the entire earth Marcondiro’ndera<br />
We’ll play <strong>at</strong> wag<strong>in</strong>g war, Marcondiro’ndà…<br />
At the end of the song, the map slips beh<strong>in</strong>d the curta<strong>in</strong>s and the two children follow<br />
it laugh<strong>in</strong>g and exit the scene. Light change. The two groups of kids beg<strong>in</strong> to come to<br />
life. Aziza and her friends start ch<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g. Ardit dribbles the football, David jo<strong>in</strong>s<br />
them as well. Rock music is play<strong>in</strong>g on the radio.<br />
Stefano’s group beg<strong>in</strong>s to come to life as well. They are talk<strong>in</strong>g loudly and every now<br />
and then glance over <strong>at</strong> the opposite group and laugh. The old man cont<strong>in</strong>ues read<strong>in</strong>g<br />
his newspaper. Then, Stefano turns to Aziza. Every now and then he turns to look <strong>at</strong><br />
his friend and sniggers. The foreign kids look <strong>at</strong> him suspiciously.<br />
Aziza [turn<strong>in</strong>g to her friends]: So, wh<strong>at</strong>’s with this guy? Wh<strong>at</strong>’s he got to laugh<br />
about?<br />
Aziza’s male friends tense up, ready for a fight. Mariem whispers someth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Aziza’s<br />
ear. Stefano stops <strong>in</strong> front of the group <strong>in</strong> a bull stance and stares <strong>at</strong> Aziza.<br />
Aziza [to Stefano, provok<strong>in</strong>g him, though you can hear th<strong>at</strong> she is embarrassed]: So,<br />
wh<strong>at</strong>’s up with you? Have I got dirt on my face or someth<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Stefano keeps look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> her, then he turns to his friends and sniggers. The old man<br />
stops read<strong>in</strong>g the newspaper and looks <strong>at</strong> the kids.<br />
149
Old man [mutter<strong>in</strong>g to himself]: Always the same, arrogant and full of themselves,<br />
will they ever learn? I’m tired of always see<strong>in</strong>g the same old scene…<br />
[then he picks up the newspaper aga<strong>in</strong>, humm<strong>in</strong>g a tune] marcondiro’ndero se ci<br />
sarà la guerra marcondiro’ndà…<br />
Aziza [to Stefano, angry]: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you laugh<strong>in</strong>g about? And why do you keep on<br />
star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> me like th<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Stefano [mak<strong>in</strong>g fun of her, mimick<strong>in</strong>g her words]: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you laugh<strong>in</strong>g about?<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> are you laugh<strong>in</strong>g about? Wh<strong>at</strong> are you laugh<strong>in</strong>g about?<br />
Stefano’s friends laugh. Methab beg<strong>in</strong>s to stand up, ir<strong>at</strong>e, but Mariem stops him.<br />
David and Ardit stand near Aziza and assume a <strong>def</strong>ensive stance, while Garik beg<strong>in</strong>s<br />
to get scared.<br />
Stefano [ignor<strong>in</strong>g Aziza’s friends]: How is it th<strong>at</strong> a girl like you is hang<strong>in</strong>g out<br />
with people like this! You should be with us [quickly <strong>in</strong>dic<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g his group] not<br />
with these… [arrogantly look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> Aziza’s friends] Losers!<br />
Music starts up.<br />
Methab: Wh<strong>at</strong> did you say?<br />
Mariem [still hold<strong>in</strong>g him back, whisper<strong>in</strong>g]: Come on, forget about it, if you<br />
don’t there’s go<strong>in</strong>g to be trouble…<br />
Stefano: You bet there’ll be trouble!<br />
Now his friends are stand<strong>in</strong>g up, ready to <strong>in</strong>tervene.<br />
David: Leave us alone, get lost!<br />
Ardit [shout<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the group]: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong>? Wh<strong>at</strong> do you want?<br />
Roberto and Giulio [star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> Garik with a totally fake, sappy tone of voice]: Hi<br />
Garik, where were you today when <strong>school</strong> got out? We looked all over for<br />
you… We wanted to say hi… Did you miss us?<br />
Garik is on the verge of tear. Ardit goes over to him.<br />
Ardit: It’s ok, we’re all here. They can’t do anyth<strong>in</strong>g to you… we’re here.<br />
Garik [whisper<strong>in</strong>g]: Yea, you’re all here now. But tomorrow? Please, Ardit, tell<br />
Methab not to make them mad… Please.<br />
The old man was listen<strong>in</strong>g to the last part of their convers<strong>at</strong>ion.<br />
150
Old man: Even this will never change. The youngest, the smallest always suffer<br />
more than the others. There must be someth<strong>in</strong>g wrong <strong>in</strong> the m<strong>in</strong>ds of men.<br />
Yes, there must really be someth<strong>in</strong>g wrong, somewhere.<br />
Stefano [fac<strong>in</strong>g the group]: Calm down, boys, calm down. We’re not here to<br />
cause trouble. I just want to talk to her [po<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g his ch<strong>in</strong> <strong>at</strong> Aziza].<br />
Mariem: She’s got a name! Her name’s Aziza and I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k she wants to talk<br />
to you!<br />
Aziza’s friends sneer. But it’s as if Aziza has turned to stone. She cont<strong>in</strong>ues star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong><br />
Stefano.<br />
Stefano: Ok, ok. I want to talk to Aziza. Can I talk to you?<br />
Aziza [almost ashamed]: Yes…<br />
Stefano: So, well, I noticed you and, well, I was wonder<strong>in</strong>g wh<strong>at</strong> a girl like you<br />
was do<strong>in</strong>g with people like them. They just cause problems and make trouble…<br />
You should hang out with us! We’re not anyth<strong>in</strong>g like them!<br />
A hush and sense of discomfort spreads throughout Aziza’s group <strong>at</strong> Stefano’s words.<br />
Aziza [shy, almost puzzled]: But I’m a foreigner too… I, even though I’m also<br />
Italian. I mean, wh<strong>at</strong> I meant to say was, I came to Italy when I was little. I was<br />
six and I hardly remember anyth<strong>in</strong>g about my country. But I’m not even Italian<br />
because I wasn’t born here and then…<br />
Methab [<strong>in</strong>terrupt<strong>in</strong>g her]: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you talk<strong>in</strong>g about? This is how you justify<br />
yourself? Or do you th<strong>in</strong>k it would be better to ditch us and go off with him?<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> is this, now you th<strong>in</strong>k you’re Italian just because some guy pays a little<br />
<strong>at</strong>tention to you?<br />
Mariem [tak<strong>in</strong>g Methab by the arm]: Now stop it, of course Aziza would never<br />
leave us… [to Aziza] would you?<br />
Old man: And they, the smallest ones, like little fish caught <strong>in</strong> a net, they wriggle<br />
away and try to get away from prejudice, from ignorance, from stereotypes.<br />
Little fish flail<strong>in</strong>g about, gett<strong>in</strong>g themselves more and more entangled…<br />
Aziza [turn<strong>in</strong>g to Stefano]: Leave me alone! Leave us alone… all of you.<br />
Stefano chuckles and turns around to leave.<br />
Stefano: Bye losers!<br />
Stefano exits the scene, followed by his friends.<br />
151
David [p<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g Garik on the back]: Now you can bre<strong>at</strong>he…<br />
Methab: Wh<strong>at</strong> I wouldn’t give to be<strong>at</strong> those guys to a pulp…<br />
Ardit [brood<strong>in</strong>g]: Yea!<br />
Mariem: Methab, th<strong>at</strong>’s enough!<br />
Methab [hugg<strong>in</strong>g and kiss<strong>in</strong>g Mariem]: Right, right…<br />
Garik [shyly]: I should be gett<strong>in</strong>g home…<br />
David: Calm down, Ardit and I are com<strong>in</strong>g with you. Methab, Mariem, you<br />
com<strong>in</strong>g too?<br />
Mariem [look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> Aziza]: Guys, you go on. We’re go<strong>in</strong>g to stay a little while<br />
longer.<br />
Methab: But…<br />
Mariem: Girl talk!<br />
The boys get up and exit the scene.<br />
Mariem: So?<br />
Aziza: Noth<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
Mariem: Tell me wh<strong>at</strong>’s wrong!<br />
Aziza [gett<strong>in</strong>g up and talk<strong>in</strong>g a mile a m<strong>in</strong>ute, nervous and agit<strong>at</strong>ed]: I can’t stand<br />
him, ok? He’s arrogant and bossy and I’d love to slap him right <strong>in</strong> the face! I<br />
h<strong>at</strong>e him! But then I feel like an idiot because I like him. I had a lot of th<strong>in</strong>gs I<br />
could’ve said but then I just stood there like a little doll and let him <strong>in</strong>sult me.<br />
Mariem: Calm down now. And then it’s true, he’s an asshole, but he’s really hot!<br />
Aziza [laugh<strong>in</strong>g]: Yea, did you see, as he was walk<strong>in</strong>g away, wh<strong>at</strong> a nice…<br />
Mariem [<strong>in</strong>terrupt<strong>in</strong>g]: Set of eyes?!?<br />
Aziza: Yea, eyes! [becom<strong>in</strong>g serious aga<strong>in</strong>]: But wh<strong>at</strong> are we talk<strong>in</strong>g about? He’s<br />
Italian, a bully and full of himself. How can I like him? It’s a good th<strong>in</strong>g you<br />
got together with Methab, <strong>at</strong> least you understand each other… But me!<br />
Mariem: It’s harder for you. You’re Italian and you’re Moroccan too…<br />
Aziza: Or maybe I’m neither one. I’m not anyth<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
Old man: Little fish <strong>in</strong> a net… They thrash about and try to f<strong>in</strong>d freedom. They<br />
feel the vast sea around them, but the net doesn’t slacken, <strong>in</strong>stead it tightens<br />
around them. Little fish <strong>in</strong> a net… And it could be so easy… But no! The fish<br />
rema<strong>in</strong> trapped <strong>in</strong> the net for ages and ages. Only a few manage to free themselves.<br />
Mariem: Come on, it’s l<strong>at</strong>e, let’s go home.<br />
Aziza: Ok.<br />
The two girls exit the scene.<br />
152
SCENE II<br />
The same park with the benches. The old man is still sitt<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> his place, hold<strong>in</strong>g the<br />
little boy dressed <strong>in</strong> yellow <strong>in</strong> his arms while he falls asleep.<br />
Old man: Come on, come on, it’s l<strong>at</strong>e. It’s time for you to rest. Go to sleep little<br />
Day and call your sister. It’s her time.<br />
Day, the little boy dressed <strong>in</strong> yellow, exits the scene rubb<strong>in</strong>g his eyes, while Night, the<br />
little girl dressed <strong>in</strong> blue, comes skipp<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>.<br />
Old man: Hello Night, welcome…<br />
Night runs <strong>in</strong>to the arms of the old man.<br />
Night: Hello Time.<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g this brief exchange the lights are lowered, cre<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g a night time <strong>at</strong>mosphere.<br />
Suddenly, Garik enters the scene bre<strong>at</strong>hless and Stefano, Giulio, Filippo and Roberto<br />
immedi<strong>at</strong>ely follow him. They form a circle around him and shove him, <strong>in</strong>sult<strong>in</strong>g<br />
and mak<strong>in</strong>g fun of him.<br />
Giulio: Isn’t it a little l<strong>at</strong>e for a snot-nosed little kid like you…<br />
Filippo: You should be <strong>at</strong> home with your mommy…<br />
Roberto: Because bad th<strong>in</strong>gs happen <strong>at</strong> night… didn’t anyone tell you th<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Night hugs the old man, frightened.<br />
Old man [exit<strong>in</strong>g the scene with Night <strong>in</strong> his arms]: I’ve seen terrible scenes like<br />
this too many times…<br />
As he is exit<strong>in</strong>g, very loud music beg<strong>in</strong>s to play. In the meantime, the bullies tease<br />
Garik. They have taken his backpack and pass it back and forth between one another<br />
while Garik tries to grab it back.<br />
Aziza and David enter the scene. As soon as they see wh<strong>at</strong> is go<strong>in</strong>g on they run toward<br />
the group. David, who is quite large, manages to get the backpack and give it back to<br />
Garik. Then he faces the bullies.<br />
The volume of the music lowers. David and Giulio are about to come to blows when<br />
they are stopped by Aziza’s voice.<br />
153
Aziza [shout<strong>in</strong>g]: Stop it! Stop it all of you! Why are you do<strong>in</strong>g this? Wh<strong>at</strong> have<br />
we done to you th<strong>at</strong> is so bad? You keep humili<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g us, putt<strong>in</strong>g us down, but<br />
why? Just because we’re foreigners? And wh<strong>at</strong> does th<strong>at</strong> mean? And then, I’ll<br />
bet only half of you even know wh<strong>at</strong> country we’re from, and if you do, I’m<br />
sure you couldn’t f<strong>in</strong>d it on a map. You’re just a bunch of ignorant bullies!<br />
[turn<strong>in</strong>g to Stefano] And you, more than anyone else, you talk to me, you smile<br />
<strong>at</strong> me and then you <strong>in</strong>sult my friends! Who do you th<strong>in</strong>k you are!!! And I even<br />
thought we could be friends, boy was I stupid!<br />
For a moment all of them are left speechless <strong>at</strong> Aziza’s outburst. More than anyone<br />
else, Stefano looks <strong>at</strong> her as if he were beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g to understand her po<strong>in</strong>t of view. Then<br />
his friends go back to be<strong>in</strong>g bullies.<br />
Filippo [chuckl<strong>in</strong>g]: As if we cared where you guys came from…<br />
Giulio: Our little Arab girl here is smart. Look, look how fired up she is! She really<br />
told you off, didn’t she?<br />
Roberto [pull<strong>in</strong>g Stefano by the arm]: Come on, let’s go, the fun is over!!! But boy<br />
is th<strong>at</strong> girl a fireball!<br />
Stefano [break<strong>in</strong>g free of Roberto’s grip and go<strong>in</strong>g back to be<strong>in</strong>g a bully so as not to<br />
lose face <strong>in</strong> front of his friends]: Want to know why we do it? Because it’s fun to<br />
see th<strong>at</strong> you’re all scared of us. See you run and hide like little mice when you<br />
see us… but we always get you <strong>in</strong> the end…<br />
The old man re-enters the scene and goes back to sitt<strong>in</strong>g on the bench. The kids are <strong>in</strong><br />
freeze frame.<br />
Old man: It’s absolutely true, they always get them. Someone always gets someone<br />
else. From the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g of man, there’s always someone who searches,<br />
who follows, who pursues and who kills the one th<strong>at</strong> is different from himself.<br />
Whites aga<strong>in</strong>st blacks. Blacks aga<strong>in</strong>st whites. Yellows aga<strong>in</strong>st whites. Whites<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>st reds. Trousers aga<strong>in</strong>st kaftans, saris aga<strong>in</strong>st salwars. G-str<strong>in</strong>gs aga<strong>in</strong>st<br />
chastity belts, overco<strong>at</strong>s aga<strong>in</strong>st skullcaps, keffiyeh aga<strong>in</strong>st jeans, And they always<br />
get them, it doesn’t m<strong>at</strong>ter who gets who…<br />
Aziza: Did you say it’s fun? Fun????<br />
Stefano: Yes, fun, so wh<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Aziza is about to retort when David takes her by the hand.<br />
David: Come on, let’s get out of here. It’s not worth it.<br />
154
The three of them leave, followed by the bullies’ laugh<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Giulio: Good for you, run away!<br />
Shortly before disappear<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to backstage, Aziza turns around and runs to stand <strong>in</strong><br />
front of Stefano.<br />
Aziza [calm and determ<strong>in</strong>ed]: Ok, let’s make a pact. A game of football! If we w<strong>in</strong>,<br />
you leave us alone and don’t bother us anymore. If you w<strong>in</strong>, I leave my group<br />
and come with you! Tomorrow, here, <strong>at</strong> three. Deal?<br />
Stefano [slightly bewildered]: Ok, We’re <strong>in</strong>! [then, adopt<strong>in</strong>g his usual tone of voice]<br />
Be careful not to hurt yourself!<br />
All of the kids exit the scene. Night quickly re-enters and goes aga<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong>to the arms of<br />
the old man.<br />
Old man [talk<strong>in</strong>g to the little girl]: Now this I didn’t expect, our Aziza is a clever<br />
girl. A game of football! [laugh<strong>in</strong>g to himself] Well, it’s always better than a<br />
war, isn’t it little one? A game of football and wh<strong>at</strong>’s on the l<strong>in</strong>e is respect.<br />
You’ll see, these kids are smarter than we imag<strong>in</strong>ed. Aziza was brave. And Stefano,<br />
handsome and so imm<strong>at</strong>ure. But she likes him. And he likes her. It’s<br />
tough be<strong>in</strong>g young, fall<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> love. It’s tough if you’re also a little fish <strong>in</strong> a net.<br />
Who knows, Night, who knows who will w<strong>in</strong>? Who knows if… Well would<br />
you look <strong>at</strong> th<strong>at</strong>, who would’ve ever guessed th<strong>at</strong> a group of kids could’ve<br />
made me curious aga<strong>in</strong>. Me, who has seen thousands of years of the same mistakes…<br />
and yet… Come on, Night, wh<strong>at</strong> do you th<strong>in</strong>k, who’s go<strong>in</strong>g to w<strong>in</strong>?<br />
[but Night has fallen asleep] Let’s go little one…<br />
The old man exits, tak<strong>in</strong>g Night with him. In the meantime, Day re-enters, cross<strong>in</strong>g<br />
the stage runn<strong>in</strong>g and danc<strong>in</strong>g. The lights come up as he runs across the stage.<br />
SCENE III<br />
The kids enter <strong>in</strong> a l<strong>in</strong>e. They are wear<strong>in</strong>g shorts and tee-shirts, ready for the game.<br />
They l<strong>in</strong>e up along the stage, fac<strong>in</strong>g each other.<br />
Elisa [to Mariem]: Hi Arab! Ready to lose?<br />
155
Mariem ignores her and smiles <strong>at</strong> Methab.<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong>a [to Aziza, whisper<strong>in</strong>g]: You th<strong>in</strong>k you’re go<strong>in</strong>g to w<strong>in</strong> him over like this?<br />
Aziza: W<strong>in</strong> who over?<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong>a: Don’t play dumb, you can see you like Stefano a mile away!<br />
Aziza [blush<strong>in</strong>g]: Yea, right!<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong>a: But, do you really th<strong>in</strong>k he go out with someone like you? He just<br />
wants to play around with you and th<strong>at</strong>’s all, trust me!<br />
Mariem [<strong>in</strong>terrupt<strong>in</strong>g because Aziza is offended]: Trust you? And for just how<br />
long have you been her best friend?<br />
Giulio: Shut up you guys, so let’s get started!<br />
Filippo: Are we go<strong>in</strong>g to be<strong>at</strong> you black and blue? [then he laughs <strong>at</strong> his own joke]<br />
Ardit: Wh<strong>at</strong> I wouldn’t give for Ibrahimovic…<br />
Garik: But he’s Serbian and you’re Albanian!!!<br />
Ardit: And who cares, he’s gre<strong>at</strong>!<br />
Methab: Zidane wouldn’t be bad either… another immigrant, right?<br />
David: Come on, stop it. Focus!<br />
Roberto: So kids, are you done blabber<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
The old man re-enters and positions himself <strong>at</strong> the center of the stage and signals the<br />
start of the game. Loud music beg<strong>in</strong>s to play and the kids simul<strong>at</strong>e a football m<strong>at</strong>ch <strong>in</strong><br />
slow motion without a ball. Giulio pushes David to the ground. Mart<strong>in</strong>a blocks Aziza<br />
while Elisa takes care of Mariem. Roberto is about to knock <strong>in</strong>to Ardit but he gets<br />
past him. Garik keeps Filippo occupied while Stefano shoves Methab. Ardit kicks the<br />
ball to Methab, call<strong>in</strong>g out to him. Methab frees himself from Stefano and runs <strong>in</strong><br />
front of the ball, which the old man has placed on the ground. He kicks and scores.<br />
The kids are all immobile for a moment. The old man whistles and the foreign kids<br />
cheer while the music fades.<br />
Aziza [walk<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> front of Stefano]: Now you have to keep your promise!<br />
Stefano [quickly look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> his friends, hesitant]: Right.<br />
Stefano and his friends exit the scene without say<strong>in</strong>g a word. Aziza and her friends<br />
congr<strong>at</strong>ul<strong>at</strong>e each other, laugh<strong>in</strong>g, and exit the scene. The old man tries to dribble the<br />
ball, but the ball rolls away and he returns to his se<strong>at</strong> with a shrug of his shoulders. A<br />
few seconds l<strong>at</strong>er, a backpack flies onto the stage and Mariem enters immedi<strong>at</strong>ely after<br />
it, followed by Elisa and Mart<strong>in</strong>a who are shov<strong>in</strong>g her.<br />
Mariem: I told you to leave me alone!<br />
156
Mart<strong>in</strong>a: Did you really th<strong>in</strong>k a stupid football game was go<strong>in</strong>g to change<br />
th<strong>in</strong>gs?<br />
Mariem: But you promised!<br />
Elisa: And so? [and she pushes Mariem so hard she falls down]<br />
David and Garik enter the scene. As they enter music beg<strong>in</strong>s to play, the same as <strong>in</strong> the<br />
football game. David takes Elisa by the arm and pulls her away from Mariem. Meanwhile,<br />
Giulio and Roberto enter. Giulio shoves David, Garik runs over to Mariem,<br />
while Elisa and Mart<strong>in</strong>a go over to Roberto. David fights back and the two end up on<br />
the ground locked together. Enter Stefano, dumbfounded, star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the scene. Aziza<br />
enters immedi<strong>at</strong>ely after him.<br />
Aziza [after a moment of be<strong>in</strong>g taken aback, see<strong>in</strong>g Stefano just stand<strong>in</strong>g there w<strong>at</strong>ch<strong>in</strong>g]:<br />
You creep! Liar! Coward! You promised! You’re a liar and you make me<br />
sick! You promised, you promised! [Aziza is so angry she is about to cry].<br />
Stefano w<strong>at</strong>ches her but does not respond. Then he grabs Giulio by the shoulders and<br />
separ<strong>at</strong>es him from David who rema<strong>in</strong>s on the ground, bre<strong>at</strong>h<strong>in</strong>g heavily.<br />
Stefano [fl<strong>at</strong>ly]: Come on, let’s go. They’re just a bunch of losers.<br />
Stefano and his group go over to their bench. Aziza helps David up, then goes over to<br />
their bench along with Mariem and Garik. Both groups sit there <strong>in</strong> silence.<br />
Old man [s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g]: Se verrà la guerra, Marcondiro’ndero / se verrà la guerra,<br />
Marcondiro’ndà / sul mare e sulla terra, Marcondiro’ndera / sul mare e sulla<br />
terra chi ci salverà? / Ci salverà il sold<strong>at</strong>o che non la vorrà / ci salverà il sold<strong>at</strong>o<br />
che la guerra rifiuterà.<br />
Transl<strong>at</strong>ion: If war breaks out, Marcondiro’ndero / if war breaks out, Marcondiro’ndà<br />
/ on the land and on the sea, Marcondiro’ndera / on the land and on<br />
the sea, who will save us? / The soldier who doesn’t want it will save us / the soldier<br />
who refuses to go to war will save us.<br />
Old man [to himself, look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> Stefano] I’d almost hoped…<br />
After a few moments of silence, Stefano’s friends say goodbye to each other and exit the<br />
scene. Stefano is left alone on the bench. He is reflect<strong>in</strong>g. Every now and then Aziza<br />
looks <strong>at</strong> him, then pretends not to be look<strong>in</strong>g and ch<strong>at</strong>s with her friends.<br />
157
Stefano gets up and walks boldly over to Aziza.<br />
Stefano: I’m sorry. I apologize. I apologize to all of you. I didn’t do anyth<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
keep my promise. [look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> Aziza] But I’m really not like this, believe me. I’ll<br />
leave my group. I don’t want to be like them.<br />
They all look <strong>at</strong> Stefano, stunned. There is almost a h<strong>in</strong>t of a smile on Ardit’s face.<br />
They are all quiet. Mariem elbows Aziza to say someth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Aziza: Ok, apology accepted. [then <strong>in</strong> an icy tone] And now get out of my face.<br />
Mariem: But Aziza…<br />
Stefano: Look, I expla<strong>in</strong>ed it all to you, I apologized, I…<br />
Aziza: Go away.<br />
Stefano turns around and slowly walks away.<br />
Aziza [turned toward her friends]: Don’t say a word. [then she gets up and exits the<br />
scene]<br />
David: I don’t understand…<br />
Mariem: Of course, you’re a man!<br />
Methab: And now wh<strong>at</strong>? Th<strong>at</strong> asshole doesn’t really th<strong>in</strong>k a couple of measly<br />
apologies are enough to resolve everyth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Garik: But Aziza likes Stefano, doesn’t she?<br />
Mariem: Yes, and a lot.<br />
Methab: But he’s a creep!<br />
Ardit: Maybe he was be<strong>in</strong>g honest.<br />
Methab: Yea, right…<br />
Mariem: Forget it, come on. It’s time to go home.<br />
David: I still don’t understand…<br />
Ardit: Probably because of th<strong>at</strong> be<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g you took…<br />
The kids exit the scene.<br />
Old man: The soldier who refuses to go to war will save us… We’ll see… Stefano<br />
and Aziza. Maybe they are the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g of peace… But, where has<br />
Night gone? [call<strong>in</strong>g] NIGHT!!!<br />
The little girl enters the scene. Darkness on the stage.<br />
158
SCENE IV<br />
Light on the stage while Day crosses it, danc<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Aziza’s friends enter with their backpacks as if <strong>school</strong> has just let out. Stefano also arrives<br />
and approaches them.<br />
Stefano: Hi.<br />
They all ignore him and Stefano exits. After a few seconds, the others also exit the<br />
scene, say<strong>in</strong>g goodbye to each other and laugh<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Night crosses the stage and the light falls to darkness. After a few seconds, the lights go<br />
up, followed by Day who dances across the stage.<br />
The kids enter aga<strong>in</strong>. This time there are both groups. Stefano is the last to arrive. He<br />
ignores his old friends, who make fun of him.<br />
Giulio: Now are you friends with the immigrants???<br />
Filippo: You were never one of us, too much of a coward…<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong>a: And you’re not even th<strong>at</strong> cool!<br />
Stefano arrives <strong>in</strong> front of Aziza.<br />
Stefano: Hi.<br />
Ardit: Hi.<br />
Aziza: Go away.<br />
Stefano exits. After a few seconds, the others also exit the scene, say<strong>in</strong>g goodbye to each<br />
other and laugh<strong>in</strong>g. Then Night crosses the stage aga<strong>in</strong> and the light fades to darkness.<br />
After a few seconds, the light goes up aga<strong>in</strong>, follow<strong>in</strong>g Day, who dances across the<br />
scene. Aziza, Mariem and Methab enter the scene and go sit on the bench. Shortly<br />
thereafter, Stefano enters. He approaches them but the silence and the stares of the<br />
three friends stop him. He turns around and leaves without say<strong>in</strong>g a word.<br />
Mariem [to Aziza]: How long do you th<strong>in</strong>k you’re go<strong>in</strong>g to keep this up?<br />
Aziza: For an eternity! I want him to feel how I felt, humili<strong>at</strong>ed and hurt and…<br />
Methab: Good for you Aziza!<br />
Mariem: Stop it, Methab, don’t you see this is idiotic? He’s changed and you<br />
love him. So tell me, wh<strong>at</strong> are you wait<strong>in</strong>g for?<br />
Aziza: And if he’s fak<strong>in</strong>g it? And if I give <strong>in</strong> and he starts mak<strong>in</strong>g fun of me aga<strong>in</strong>?<br />
Why should I trust him?<br />
159
Methab: Right, why should we trust him?<br />
Old man: Th<strong>at</strong>’s a good question! Why should we trust each other? When we’ve<br />
already betrayed each other and their f<strong>at</strong>hers betrayed each other even before<br />
they did, just like their grandf<strong>at</strong>hers and gre<strong>at</strong>-grandf<strong>at</strong>hers… They have<br />
been betray<strong>in</strong>g each other s<strong>in</strong>ce the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g of time and now, why should<br />
they trust each other?<br />
Mariem [respond<strong>in</strong>g to Aziza]: Because your heart already believes him! And<br />
now, let’s go, I’m hungry.<br />
The three of them exit the scene. Night passes by aga<strong>in</strong>, br<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g darkness and after a<br />
few seconds Day returns with the light. The kids with their backpacks re-enter the<br />
scene. Stefano is last, but is more confident and determ<strong>in</strong>ed. He walks <strong>in</strong> front of the<br />
bench of his old group and they <strong>in</strong>sult him with whistles and swear<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Stefano: Oh, be quiet! You’re all p<strong>at</strong>hetic!<br />
The old friends are caught off-guard and unable to react.<br />
Stefano walks right over to Aziza.<br />
Stefano: Now, this is enough! Tell me wh<strong>at</strong> I have to do to conv<strong>in</strong>ce you th<strong>at</strong> I’m<br />
different! I’ll do wh<strong>at</strong>ever you want me to do.<br />
Aziza: You’re not ly<strong>in</strong>g to me?<br />
Stefano: No! I’m be<strong>in</strong>g honest, really…<br />
Aziza: I don’t know. I don’t know if…<br />
Stefano [<strong>in</strong>terrupt<strong>in</strong>g her]: I really like you and I wish you were my girlfriend!<br />
Aziza is bre<strong>at</strong>hless. Ardit, Garik and David beg<strong>in</strong> snigger<strong>in</strong>g, while Mariem squeezes<br />
her friend’s hand, who is still silent.<br />
Her silence lasts longer and longer. All of them are w<strong>at</strong>ch<strong>in</strong>g Aziza, even Stefano’s old<br />
friends, even the old man, but she doesn’t say a word.<br />
Methab: Now, th<strong>at</strong>’s enough! If he’s conv<strong>in</strong>ced me th<strong>at</strong> he’s changed, I really<br />
th<strong>in</strong>k you should give him a chance.<br />
Aziza stands up, serious.<br />
Mariem [fear<strong>in</strong>g a burst of rage]: Aziza, stay calm, ok?<br />
But Aziza suddenly throws her arms around Stefano and kisses him on the lips.<br />
160
Mart<strong>in</strong>a runs out of the scene scream<strong>in</strong>g ASSHOLE <strong>at</strong> Stefano, followed by Elisa.<br />
Then the other three guys leave.<br />
Stefano sits down on the bench along with his new friends, hold<strong>in</strong>g Aziza’s knees.<br />
Music beg<strong>in</strong>s to play.<br />
Old man: Well done, little love birds. They’ve amazed me! Just look, after ages,<br />
besides my curiosity, I’ve also rega<strong>in</strong>ed hope…<br />
The volume of the music <strong>in</strong>creases, until Night enters the scene br<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g darkness<br />
with her.<br />
161
Darkness.<br />
All aga<strong>in</strong>st one<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Adel Wieser<br />
ADAPTED BY<br />
Giada G<strong>at</strong>ti<br />
Woman [voice off]: Well, Thomas, as you know, we will only choose 15 people<br />
to particip<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong> the <strong>in</strong>ternship <strong>at</strong> Schwarz Equipment. It’s an important opportunity<br />
for you because after the <strong>in</strong>ternship there’s the chance you may be<br />
hired. You speak German very well and you have told me th<strong>at</strong> you wouldn’t<br />
m<strong>in</strong>d be<strong>in</strong>g transferred to Munich, even for a long period of time and this is<br />
excellent. However, you do understand th<strong>at</strong> we must evalu<strong>at</strong>e several other<br />
people, don’t you? In any case, you will receive a response from us by mail. In<br />
a few weeks we will contact all the candid<strong>at</strong>es. I hope to see you aga<strong>in</strong> soon. It’s<br />
been a pleasure meet<strong>in</strong>g you.<br />
Thomas [voice off]: It’s been a pleasure for me as well. Thank you and I hope to<br />
see you aga<strong>in</strong> soon.<br />
Lights on the scene. We are <strong>in</strong> a boy’s room. S<strong>in</strong>gle bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers,<br />
a small desk with a computer on it. Posters on the walls and a bit untidy.<br />
Thomas, <strong>in</strong> jeans and a tee-shirt, is ly<strong>in</strong>g on the bed play<strong>in</strong>g a videogame. He is distracted<br />
and keeps mak<strong>in</strong>g mistakes. Suddenly, he gets up and exits the scene. He reenters,<br />
dragg<strong>in</strong>g his feet, a few seconds l<strong>at</strong>er.<br />
Thomas [imp<strong>at</strong>iently]: The mail!<br />
162
He throws himself back onto the bed and picks up the videogame. A second l<strong>at</strong>er he<br />
sticks out his ear as if he has heard a sound. He jumps to his feet and exits the scene. He<br />
aga<strong>in</strong> re-enters the scene, look<strong>in</strong>g dejected.<br />
Thomas: Good th<strong>in</strong>g they were supposed to write after two weeks.<br />
He beg<strong>in</strong>s pac<strong>in</strong>g the room, turns on his computer then puts on some music. He sits<br />
down <strong>at</strong> the computer, which still has not started up, and imp<strong>at</strong>iently shakes the<br />
mouse. Then he aga<strong>in</strong> sticks out his ear, gets up and runs outside.<br />
He re-enters the scene hold<strong>in</strong>g a letter and turns it over <strong>in</strong> his hands. He sits down on<br />
the bed, look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the sealed envelope. Then he gets up and goes to turn off the music.<br />
Aga<strong>in</strong> he sits down with the envelope <strong>in</strong> his hand. He beg<strong>in</strong>s to open it but then gives<br />
it a second thought.<br />
Thomas: And if it didn’t go well? It hardly ever goes well!<br />
Thomas rests the letter on the bed next to him. He exits the scene. He re-enters a second<br />
l<strong>at</strong>er with a can of Coca-cola. He glances <strong>at</strong> the letter and then sits down <strong>in</strong> front<br />
of the computer and beg<strong>in</strong>s to write someth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
A few seconds l<strong>at</strong>er his mobile r<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
Thomas: Hello? Hey Francesco, how’s it go<strong>in</strong>g? Same old, same old… no, <strong>in</strong><br />
front of the computer. Tonight? But who’ll be there?… And who’s Paolo?…<br />
Oh, him! And wh<strong>at</strong>’s he got to do with us?… Wh<strong>at</strong> did he say?… He told you<br />
we’ve been friends for years?… No, no I’ve known him s<strong>in</strong>ce elementary<br />
<strong>school</strong>… Ok, I’ll th<strong>in</strong>k about it… Yes, I’ll see you there. See you l<strong>at</strong>er.<br />
Right… Good bye.<br />
Thomas hangs up and cont<strong>in</strong>ues look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the telephone.<br />
Thomas: Friends? Th<strong>at</strong> piece of… now he says we’re friends! You see, now they<br />
all act like they’re your friends. Hi Thomas, over here. Hey Thomas, over<br />
there. Remember when we were <strong>in</strong> middle <strong>school</strong>? Remember th<strong>at</strong> one time<br />
<strong>at</strong> the park when were play<strong>in</strong>g? Who was play<strong>in</strong>g? They were play<strong>in</strong>g. They<br />
were mak<strong>in</strong>g fun of me, th<strong>at</strong>’s wh<strong>at</strong> they were do<strong>in</strong>g. It was their favourite<br />
game. «The psycho, the psycho is here!». Wh<strong>at</strong> a gre<strong>at</strong> game. They wouldn’t<br />
even have tre<strong>at</strong>ed a stray dog like th<strong>at</strong>!<br />
He throws his mobile angrily onto the desk, gets up and picks up the envelope aga<strong>in</strong>.<br />
163
Thomas: Th<strong>at</strong> woman <strong>at</strong> the <strong>in</strong>terview told me not to worry, th<strong>at</strong> my chances<br />
were excellent. Sure! Wh<strong>at</strong> k<strong>in</strong>d of chance does a guy like me have?<br />
He beg<strong>in</strong>s to talk to the envelope as if it were the woman from the <strong>in</strong>terview.<br />
Thomas: She’s very nice, but why should I believe her? She could be fak<strong>in</strong>g it,<br />
couldn’t she? Just to be polite. Sure, I look outgo<strong>in</strong>g and friendly but I didn’t<br />
even tell her th<strong>at</strong> <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong> they called me «the psycho». Yes, because I was<br />
strange. And then because I started be<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g people up. Did I have any choice?<br />
They all tre<strong>at</strong>ed me like a dog. And now, has anyth<strong>in</strong>g changed? Wh<strong>at</strong> chance<br />
does a guy like me have? Sure, sure, I’m smart and I’m not afraid of work<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
I speak German, oh, how cool! But you can’t get away from shit if you’ve<br />
grown up <strong>in</strong> it, there’s no use even hop<strong>in</strong>g! No use!<br />
Thomas is about to crumple up the envelope, then he stops.<br />
Thomas: And if for once it went well? Wh<strong>at</strong> if I really could get away and start<br />
all over aga<strong>in</strong>? I don’t want to stay here. I can’t take anymore shit, shit and<br />
more shit. I want…<br />
Thomas is silent for a moment, then delic<strong>at</strong>ely rests the envelope on the bed, gets up<br />
and goes over to the wardrobe. A postcard with a picture of the sea is stuck to the door.<br />
Thomas looks <strong>at</strong> it then takes it off and reads the back. He sets it on the bed. He returns<br />
to the wardrobe and takes out a camp<strong>in</strong>g backpack and throws it on the bed on<br />
top of the postcard. Then he beg<strong>in</strong>s to take lots of clothes out of the wardrobe and stuff<br />
them <strong>in</strong>to the backpack until he can’t fit anyth<strong>in</strong>g else <strong>in</strong>side.<br />
Thomas stops.<br />
Thomas: No, not like this. I can’t just stuff wh<strong>at</strong>ever I f<strong>in</strong>d <strong>in</strong> here.<br />
He turns the backpack upside down and dumps everyth<strong>in</strong>g onto the bed. Then he beg<strong>in</strong>s<br />
to sort through his clothes. In the pile, he f<strong>in</strong>ds a worn out, faded tee-shirt th<strong>at</strong> is<br />
certa<strong>in</strong>ly too small for him. He looks <strong>at</strong> it carefully and smiles to himself.<br />
Thomas: And wh<strong>at</strong> do I do with you? Just how long have you been <strong>in</strong> th<strong>at</strong><br />
wardrobe? ten years? Right, I was seven when Mom gave you to me. I don’t remember<br />
any other gifts Mom gave me. Not for my birthday, not for Christmas.<br />
You’re one of a k<strong>in</strong>d!<br />
164
He sits silently on the floor, pensive, with his shoulders rest<strong>in</strong>g aga<strong>in</strong>st the bed. He<br />
reaches out his hand and picks up the closed envelope.<br />
Thomas: If I leave wh<strong>at</strong> will happen to my mother? I don’t remember my mother<br />
giv<strong>in</strong>g me a s<strong>in</strong>gle gift, or com<strong>in</strong>g to pick me up <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>. I stood there with<br />
my backpack on my shoulder and w<strong>at</strong>ched other kids’ parents hugg<strong>in</strong>g their<br />
children and ask<strong>in</strong>g them wh<strong>at</strong> new th<strong>in</strong>gs they had learned <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong> th<strong>at</strong><br />
day. Depress<strong>in</strong>g. This is wh<strong>at</strong> I remember.<br />
But I th<strong>in</strong>k my Mom always did everyth<strong>in</strong>g she could. It’s just th<strong>at</strong> she was too<br />
busy fight<strong>in</strong>g with my sisters… I remember this too, com<strong>in</strong>g home and hear<strong>in</strong>g<br />
them fight<strong>in</strong>g and scream<strong>in</strong>g, and I knew I had to hide because soon they<br />
would come to blows. You know, it was after one of those fights th<strong>at</strong> she gave<br />
me this Hug Me T-shirt. How can I go away and leave my mother <strong>in</strong> the middle<br />
of this mess? But if I don’t go, noth<strong>in</strong>g will ever change. Violence, violence,<br />
violence. I’ve seen just about enough violence! I’ve used it too, but now<br />
not anymore. No, no more, I’ve decided. But how can I stay here if I decide<br />
never to raise my fists aga<strong>in</strong>st anyone else aga<strong>in</strong>? Her you either strike or you<br />
die, there’s no other way!<br />
Aga<strong>in</strong>, Thomas lays the letter on the bed.<br />
Thomas: Anyway, I doubt they picked me…<br />
He beg<strong>in</strong>s carefully fold<strong>in</strong>g the tee-shirt. Then he puts it <strong>in</strong> the backpack.<br />
Thomas: Th<strong>at</strong>’s wh<strong>at</strong> they do, like they’re jok<strong>in</strong>g, to play around with you a bit!<br />
Music. He beg<strong>in</strong>s fold<strong>in</strong>g his clothes aga<strong>in</strong> and every now and then puts someth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong><br />
the wardrobe and someth<strong>in</strong>g else <strong>in</strong> the backpack. When he f<strong>in</strong>ishes, he picks up the<br />
envelope and beg<strong>in</strong>s to turn it over <strong>in</strong> his hands aga<strong>in</strong>. Then, it’s as if she were talk<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to him aga<strong>in</strong>. The music lowers.<br />
Thomas: The problem isn’t their response. The problem is me. If th<strong>in</strong>gs go well,<br />
ok. But if th<strong>in</strong>gs go badly, then wh<strong>at</strong> do I do? Stay here and waste away? Leave<br />
anyway? Wh<strong>at</strong> do I do? Wh<strong>at</strong> do I know about how you behave outside of<br />
here. Wh<strong>at</strong> do I do?<br />
The music starts up aga<strong>in</strong>. Thomas holds his head between his hands and rema<strong>in</strong>s immobile<br />
until the end of the music piece. Music ends. Thomas picks up the telephone.<br />
165
Thomas: Hey Francesco, it’s me. I’m not com<strong>in</strong>g tonight. No, I’m not <strong>in</strong> the<br />
mood. Yea, yea, see you next time, bye.<br />
Thomas picks up his backpack, closes it and sets it next to the door. He returns to the<br />
bed and sees the post card th<strong>at</strong> was sitt<strong>in</strong>g under it. He picks it up.<br />
Thomas: Too many memories for just one day… But this is a warn<strong>in</strong>g, not a<br />
memory. If you grow up with an alcoholic f<strong>at</strong>her who then one day just disappears,<br />
it’s good to have someth<strong>in</strong>g to remember him by, someth<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> rem<strong>in</strong>ds<br />
you not to become like him. The funny th<strong>in</strong>g is th<strong>at</strong> my only memory<br />
of th<strong>at</strong> man is a happy memory. I th<strong>in</strong>k this is why it hurts even more. A<br />
glimpse of a family… a trip to the sea, two peaceful, happy parents and a child<br />
sleep<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> the backse<strong>at</strong> of the car, c<strong>at</strong>ch a glimpse of a normal family. See how<br />
it might have been if he’d been another k<strong>in</strong>d of man r<strong>at</strong>her than a drunk who<br />
woke me up <strong>at</strong> night, st<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g of w<strong>in</strong>e, gave me some money and disappeared<br />
for months. Yes, a warn<strong>in</strong>g. A warn<strong>in</strong>g of wh<strong>at</strong> I could lose, of the damage I<br />
could do if I stayed here and became like him. But maybe I’m already like<br />
him… I don’t know if people can redeem themselves, if people can change…<br />
But anyway, I don’t want to be like him.<br />
He opens his backpack aga<strong>in</strong> and puts the postcard <strong>in</strong>side.<br />
Thomas: I’ll be anyth<strong>in</strong>g, but not like him.<br />
He returns to the bed and picks up the envelope aga<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Thomas: Come on!<br />
He opens the envelope and reads the letter. He stands still, star<strong>in</strong>g with an <strong>in</strong>decipherable<br />
expression. Then he slowly gets up, folds the paper and puts it <strong>in</strong> the pocket of his<br />
jeans. He turns off the computer and the stereo. He looks around him, picks up the<br />
backpack and opens the door.<br />
Thomas [look<strong>in</strong>g beh<strong>in</strong>d him for a moment]: Come on!<br />
Thomas exits the scene. The music and lights lower, only illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g the open envelope<br />
left on the bed. Darkness.<br />
166
Characters<br />
The night prior to… the première<br />
Apofil Rionero – Venosa – Potenza<br />
WINNING SCRIPT WRITTEN BY<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o Simone D’Incenzo, Marco Cann<strong>at</strong>i, Lorenzo Romaniello,<br />
Felisya Fornar<strong>in</strong>i, Raffaele Santopietro<br />
ADAPTED FOR THE STAGE WITH<br />
Aldo Mar<strong>in</strong>etti, Luigi Gilio,V<strong>in</strong>cenzo Blasi,<br />
Isabella Urbano, Maria Rosa, N<strong>in</strong>o Giuralarocca<br />
ARTISTIC SUPERVISION BY<br />
Federica Festa and Lidia Giansanti<br />
PROTAGONISTS<br />
Lorenzo, 16 years, ma<strong>in</strong> character, Milan fan<br />
Teresa, 15 years, costume designer<br />
Raffaele, 16 years, Inter fan<br />
Felisya, 14 years, Raffaele’s girlfriend<br />
Lea, 15 years, dog lover, friend of Felisya<br />
Marco, 16 years, Videogame addict<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o, 17 years, tammorra (percussion <strong>in</strong>strument similar to a tambour<strong>in</strong>e)<br />
player<br />
OFF-STAGE VOICES<br />
Mama, Television comment<strong>at</strong>or, Zanetti<br />
SUPPORT/DANCE TROUPE<br />
Dante<br />
Virgil<br />
Footballer<br />
Man 1<br />
Man 2<br />
167
A group of kids are just about to have their first the<strong>at</strong>er debut. The day before they<br />
meet as usual <strong>at</strong> the city park to compare doubts and fears. Th<strong>at</strong> night some of<br />
them have strange dreams: one dreams of be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a videogame, one of becom<strong>in</strong>g<br />
a famous footballer, one even dreams of wak<strong>in</strong>g up with different colored sk<strong>in</strong>. F<strong>in</strong>ally,<br />
the alarm goes off. It’s the big day. The the<strong>at</strong>er is packed. Tensions are high.<br />
However, as the curta<strong>in</strong> rises, the company still is not ready. Only Teresa, the costume<br />
designer, is on the stage and, <strong>in</strong> spite of herself, has to enterta<strong>in</strong> the audience<br />
by talk<strong>in</strong>g about herself and her friends. F<strong>in</strong>ally, P<strong>in</strong>o comes to her aid with his<br />
tammorra and gets everyone, the actors and audience alike, <strong>in</strong>volved <strong>in</strong> s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g a<br />
song by Eurgenio Benn<strong>at</strong>o about the briganti (ndt. bandits) dur<strong>in</strong>g the struggle<br />
to achieve Italian Unity and their fight aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>in</strong>justice <strong>in</strong> beautiful Basilic<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
The day before.<br />
A bench is on the stage. We are <strong>in</strong> a park, the meet<strong>in</strong>g place of a group of adolescents<br />
prepar<strong>in</strong>g for a the<strong>at</strong>er debut the next day. Teresa and Lorenzo enter and stop <strong>at</strong> the<br />
bench. Teresa has to measure Lorenzo to f<strong>in</strong>ish mak<strong>in</strong>g his costume.<br />
Lorenzo: Look, there’s no one here. We’re the first ones.<br />
Teresa: Then come here Lorenzo and I’ll measure you. I have to f<strong>in</strong>ish your K<strong>in</strong>g<br />
costume… The performance is tomorrow and yesterday dur<strong>in</strong>g rehearsals<br />
you tore your cape.<br />
Felisya and her friend Lea enter the scene from the opposite side of the bench.<br />
Felisya: Wh<strong>at</strong> a beautiful day. It almost feels like spr<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Lea: You’re right, but I can’t wait for summer to get here.<br />
Felisya: Shall we go get an ice cream <strong>at</strong> the Danc<strong>in</strong>g Café???<br />
Lea: I should really go get the dog for his usual walk.<br />
Felisya: Speak<strong>in</strong>g of dogs! Yesterday the most <strong>in</strong>credible th<strong>in</strong>g happened to me…<br />
Lea: A new boyfriend?<br />
Felisya: Well… not really… I mean, there was a boyfriend, but for my Liù!<br />
Lea: Did you decide to m<strong>at</strong>e your dog?<br />
Felisya: I didn’t! He did!<br />
Lea: But he who! I don’t get it!<br />
Felisya: Raffaele… the K<strong>in</strong>g of Orange… The Pr<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>in</strong> our performance!<br />
Lea: Who? The Cobra?<br />
Felisya: Wh<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Lea: Raffaele, aka the Cobra! Forget about him, you’re better off. But then aga<strong>in</strong>,<br />
aren’t you see<strong>in</strong>g Marco? Why would you want anybody else!?<br />
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Felisya: But I really like him. And then he plays the role of the pr<strong>in</strong>ce so well.<br />
Lea: Listen, he’s no pr<strong>in</strong>ce! Anyway… wh<strong>at</strong> does the Cobra have to do… Sorry,<br />
I meant «the pr<strong>in</strong>ce»… with your Liù?<br />
Felisya: Yesterday I was here, for our usual walk… He gets here, comes up to us<br />
and starts play<strong>in</strong>g with the dog. «She’s so cute! Wh<strong>at</strong> a cute little mug! How<br />
old is she?» So, us<strong>in</strong>g the dog as an excuse, it really seemed like… well…<br />
Lea: Like he was try<strong>in</strong>g to pick you up!<br />
Felisya: Th<strong>at</strong>’s wh<strong>at</strong> I thought, and actually, with the excuse of go<strong>in</strong>g over the<br />
script, he’s com<strong>in</strong>g over <strong>at</strong> 10!<br />
Lea: And you said yes? You’re really stupid!<br />
Felisya: Wh<strong>at</strong>’s wrong with th<strong>at</strong>! We’re <strong>in</strong> the performance together! And<br />
then… he’s so cool! My whole body was shak<strong>in</strong>g! I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to hurry home to<br />
get ready… I’ve turned my wardrobe <strong>in</strong>side out! I had no idea wh<strong>at</strong> to wear! I<br />
tried on my little purple dress with my favourite heels, but it looked a little too<br />
dressy, so I tried on my black jeans with my black sequ<strong>in</strong>ned top. I looked like<br />
I was go<strong>in</strong>g to a funeral! In the end, I picked my little blue dress with my<br />
beloved baller<strong>in</strong>as. «Simple and pretty», I said to myself.<br />
Lea: If you want my op<strong>in</strong>ion, the red dress looks best on you! Th<strong>at</strong>’s wh<strong>at</strong> I<br />
would’ve worn! More fun!<br />
Felisya: Right, fun… like wh<strong>at</strong> came next!<br />
Lea: Wh<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Felisya: At 10 o’clock on the dot, my mobile r<strong>in</strong>gs… it’s him! «Calm down, Felisya…<br />
Ch<strong>in</strong> up and no stutter<strong>in</strong>g, answer», «Hello?», «Hi, how’s it go<strong>in</strong>g? Are<br />
you ready?», he says. «Just a m<strong>in</strong>ute and I’ll be down…». It’s him, «Can you<br />
br<strong>in</strong>g your dog too?», «Wh<strong>at</strong>? My dog? I have to br<strong>in</strong>g the dog??? But, wh<strong>at</strong><br />
dog?». I really didn’t get it and then he expla<strong>in</strong>ed, all excited, th<strong>at</strong> he wanted<br />
to m<strong>at</strong>e my Liù with his Hiroshi. «Yea, sure… it’s a gre<strong>at</strong> idea, but Liù’s sleep<strong>in</strong>g<br />
now», I told him a little nervous. «Well, then I’ll go over my l<strong>in</strong>es <strong>at</strong> home,<br />
alone, after the game. See you!».<br />
See wh<strong>at</strong> an idiot I am? And I thought… Well, f<strong>in</strong>ally, after try<strong>in</strong>g on all those<br />
clothes… I didn’t even get to go over my part!<br />
Lea: Forget your clothes, you’d have been better off tak<strong>in</strong>g your dog to the<br />
groomers.<br />
Felisya: Very funny!<br />
Lea: Anyway, look who’s com<strong>in</strong>g! It’s your pr<strong>in</strong>ce!!!<br />
Felisya: Aaaaaaaaaaargh… I see th<strong>at</strong>, ok, look casual…<br />
Raffaele walks up to the girls and two dogs immedi<strong>at</strong>ely come runn<strong>in</strong>g up to him.<br />
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Raffaele: Hi Felisya… Wh<strong>at</strong>’s wrong? You look nervous!<br />
Felisya: It’s noth<strong>in</strong>g… I’m just nervous about the performance!<br />
Lea: Right! She’s worried she won’t remember any of her l<strong>in</strong>es! Have you got the<br />
part of the pr<strong>in</strong>ce down yet?<br />
Raffaele: Sure, I have! Wh<strong>at</strong> do you two take me for… I was born a pr<strong>in</strong>ce.<br />
Lea: To me, you’re just the Cobra!<br />
Raffaele: Wh<strong>at</strong>!<br />
Felisya: Forget it… Lea’s just jok<strong>in</strong>g! Look… There are Teresa and Lorenzo!<br />
Hey? Guys?!<br />
Felisya starts walk<strong>in</strong>g over to the bench, the others follow her.<br />
Raffaele [to Lea]: L<strong>at</strong>er you have to expla<strong>in</strong> th<strong>at</strong> stuff about the Cobra!<br />
Raffaele looks <strong>at</strong> Lorenzo, then takes out and waves the Inter flag.<br />
Raffaele: Go Inter! [to Lorenzo who is stand<strong>in</strong>g with his arms open so th<strong>at</strong> Teresa<br />
can measure him] You lost! Bam! Light’s out, go Inter.<br />
Lorenzo: Leave me alone, I couldn’t care less… Tomorrow’s the performance,<br />
forget soccer.<br />
Raffaele: Yea, yea, you say th<strong>at</strong> because we be<strong>at</strong> you 4 to 0.<br />
Raffaele stays wrapped up <strong>in</strong> the flag and tries to take it off, but just gets rolled up<br />
<strong>in</strong>side it. Enter Marco.<br />
Marco [giv<strong>in</strong>g everyone five]: Hey beautiful! How’s it go<strong>in</strong>g? I’m only go<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
stay ten m<strong>in</strong>utes because I have to get back home. I left my computer <strong>in</strong> standby.<br />
I have to f<strong>in</strong>ish the last level of Hitman, this video game I’ve just got. Just<br />
long enough to smoke a cigarette. So are we really sure we want to do this performance<br />
tomorrow?<br />
Raffaele: Why? Are you scared?<br />
Marco: Me, scared? Look, I got to the fourth level!<br />
Lorenzo: But videogames aren’t real, the audience is real, Marco!<br />
Teresa: It’s normal to be a little scared.<br />
Marco: Alright, I’ll be honest with you all: I’m terrified, more than go<strong>in</strong>g to the<br />
dentist.<br />
Marco sits down on the bench and lights a cigarette.<br />
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Felisya: So, who’s miss<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Lea: Guess! Always the same guy… But here he comes, the snail.<br />
Enter P<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Sorry I’m l<strong>at</strong>e guys. I had to f<strong>in</strong>ish practic<strong>in</strong>g my tammorra.<br />
Raffaele: You, the only time you arrive on time is when you have to get money<br />
from your mother.<br />
Teresa: Back to the usual rout<strong>in</strong>e. The performance is tomorrow and I still need<br />
you to try on your costume!<br />
Felisya: Tomorrow, can you remember to be on time for the performance?<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: I promise! Tomorrow I will won’t be a second l<strong>at</strong>e. Wh<strong>at</strong> time do we have<br />
to be <strong>at</strong> the the<strong>at</strong>er? At eight?<br />
Everyone: At six!<br />
Lea: I’m so embarrassed<br />
Teresa: Tomorrow my boyfriend’s even com<strong>in</strong>g to see me.<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: I hope we don’t get our scenes mixed up… Otherwise… Do you know<br />
how bad we’ll look?<br />
Teresa: I’m so excited. I can’t wait. I hope the costumes are perfect.<br />
Raffaele: Oh, Tomorrow the football coupons come out too… I hope we w<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Teresa: Come on guys! It’s time to get mov<strong>in</strong>g, and remember: Tomorrow <strong>at</strong> six<br />
<strong>in</strong> the the<strong>at</strong>er to rehearse the song. Please… Rehearse your l<strong>in</strong>es tonight so<br />
you know your parts.<br />
Everyone: Bye, See you tomorrow.<br />
They all walk out together, except for Teresa who f<strong>in</strong>ishes sort<strong>in</strong>g out her suitcase.<br />
Teresa [tak<strong>in</strong>g out Juliette’s braids and start<strong>in</strong>g to recite her l<strong>in</strong>es]: «Oh Romeo<br />
Romeo… Where for art thou Romeo… » [tripp<strong>in</strong>g over the braids]… I have to<br />
shorten them a bit… Sure I didn’t th<strong>in</strong>k a costume designer had all this responsibility!<br />
But I like it, I like the the<strong>at</strong>er… It’s like liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a dream… Incidentally…<br />
I should hurry… Tonight, early to bed… [with emphasis] «I<br />
shouldn’t worry… After all… Tomorrow is another day».<br />
Everyone: Bye, see you tomorrow.<br />
Teresa exits with the music of Gone with the W<strong>in</strong>d. Darkness.<br />
The lights go up aga<strong>in</strong>. Cones of light.<br />
Each of the characters is <strong>in</strong> a cone of light, wear<strong>in</strong>g pyjamas and go<strong>in</strong>g through their<br />
even<strong>in</strong>g activities, await<strong>in</strong>g the debut of the follow<strong>in</strong>g day. They complete actions<br />
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without objects: Lorenzo is rehears<strong>in</strong>g his part, Marco is play<strong>in</strong>g a videogame, P<strong>in</strong>o<br />
is play<strong>in</strong>g his tammorra, Felisya is try<strong>in</strong>g on a dress, Lea is exercis<strong>in</strong>g her voice, Raffaele<br />
is dribbl<strong>in</strong>g a football.<br />
Lea [look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> herself <strong>in</strong> the mirror]: Oh God, I’m so nervous! Who got me <strong>in</strong>to<br />
this anyhow! I’d better do some bre<strong>at</strong>h<strong>in</strong>g exercises, calm myself down a bit so<br />
I can sleep… After all, tomorrow is another day!<br />
Darkness on Lea who exits.<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: If I keep on play<strong>in</strong>g the tammorra the neighbors are go<strong>in</strong>g to kill me. I’d<br />
better sleep on it, tomorrow is a big day, no, tomorrow is another day!<br />
Darkness on P<strong>in</strong>o who exits.<br />
Lorenzo: Enough rehears<strong>in</strong>g! Anyway, I won’t ever remember anyth<strong>in</strong>g. And if<br />
I don’t show up tomorrow? And if I tell them I’m sick? [he sets his alarm] Seven<br />
o’clock wake up and don’t give it another thought… Tomorrow is another<br />
day!<br />
Darkness on Lorenzo who exits.<br />
Felisya: I’m so tired… Time for bed, Felisya! Tomorrow I’ll see my pr<strong>in</strong>ce<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>… Another glance… Tomorrow… Another day…<br />
Darkness on Felisya who exits.<br />
Raffaele: I’m really, really worried. Tonight Inter is play<strong>in</strong>g! Let’s hope for the<br />
best! Maybe I should go over my l<strong>in</strong>es aga<strong>in</strong>, otherwise… Wh<strong>at</strong>’ll become of<br />
me? «Frankly, I don’t give a damn»… Wh<strong>at</strong> an actor!<br />
Raffaele exits with the f<strong>in</strong>al musical score of Gone with the W<strong>in</strong>d.<br />
Darkness.<br />
A video with the images and audio of the meet<strong>in</strong>g between Dante and Vergil, the two<br />
characters <strong>in</strong> the videogame Devil May Cry, starts up. Dream light<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>in</strong> the<br />
forestage a pl<strong>at</strong>form/bed. Marco is ly<strong>in</strong>g down, sleep<strong>in</strong>g and dream<strong>in</strong>g. The audience<br />
witnesses his dream. Dante emerges from the flexible screen. He approaches Marco,<br />
<strong>in</strong>troduc<strong>in</strong>g himself.<br />
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Dante: My name is Dante, son of the noble K<strong>in</strong>g Sparda, and I am here to protect<br />
you because I am well aware th<strong>at</strong>, fortuitously, you’ve found yourself<br />
right <strong>in</strong> the middle of a war without even realiz<strong>in</strong>g it. Do not fear, as long as<br />
you are with me, you’ll be safe.<br />
Marco [afraid]: My name is Marco and I am the owner of this videogame… but<br />
where am I?<br />
Sounds of thunder.<br />
Dante: Don’t worry, stay beh<strong>in</strong>d me. [Marco gets up and stands beh<strong>in</strong>d Dante]<br />
Now the Demon Phantom is on his way. He’s a good warrior, but I know him<br />
well. I’ll get rid of him.<br />
Dante unshe<strong>at</strong>hes his sword, b<strong>at</strong>tles the non-existent demon and w<strong>in</strong>s.<br />
Dante: Marco, it’s all over. Now we have to run for safety!<br />
Marco [terrified]: Why all this fight<strong>in</strong>g? Why all this violence? Why do you b<strong>at</strong>tle<br />
each other?<br />
Dante motions for Marco to make himself comfortable.<br />
Dante: Marco, I’ll try to make a long story short, with the hope of answer<strong>in</strong>g<br />
your many, many questions. About five years ago, my family was killed by a<br />
dragon th<strong>at</strong>, for millennia, had slept <strong>in</strong> a lake. It is said th<strong>at</strong> this dragon was<br />
the <strong>in</strong>carn<strong>at</strong>ion of the last K<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> reigned over my country before he was<br />
<strong>def</strong>e<strong>at</strong>ed by my ancestors, who overthrew him. Legend has it th<strong>at</strong> this K<strong>in</strong>g<br />
never died and th<strong>at</strong> he was transformed <strong>in</strong>to an enormous, fire-bre<strong>at</strong>h<strong>in</strong>g<br />
dragon. Then, after sleep<strong>in</strong>g for millennia, the dragon awoke. My ancestors’<br />
warriors and arms could do noth<strong>in</strong>g aga<strong>in</strong>st him. He killed everyone, except<br />
for my f<strong>at</strong>her who <strong>at</strong> the time was still an <strong>in</strong>fant, rescued by my grandmother<br />
thanks to an extraord<strong>in</strong>ary amulet, capable of ward<strong>in</strong>g off evil for the wearer.<br />
Subsequently, the dragon disappeared. No one knows wh<strong>at</strong> happened to him<br />
and everyone is await<strong>in</strong>g his imm<strong>in</strong>ent <strong>at</strong>tack. Thus an <strong>in</strong>explicable heav<strong>in</strong>ess<br />
and gloom has descended upon the popul<strong>at</strong>ion, the marshes have begun to<br />
bubble up like w<strong>at</strong>er boil<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a pot. Gett<strong>in</strong>g back to the medallion, my f<strong>at</strong>her,<br />
before he died, gave it to me, to the envy of my brother Vergil. He is now<br />
wag<strong>in</strong>g a war aga<strong>in</strong>st me, enlist<strong>in</strong>g armies of horrible monsters, ready to do<br />
wh<strong>at</strong>ever he has to do to ga<strong>in</strong> power, th<strong>at</strong>’s just like him! Your reason for be<strong>in</strong>g<br />
here is fortuitous. A human be<strong>in</strong>g may become part of our history only if<br />
173
he succeeds <strong>in</strong> turn<strong>in</strong>g on the computer just as I, with one hand, grasp my<br />
amulet and, with the other, unshe<strong>at</strong>he my sword. Here! You are the fortun<strong>at</strong>e<br />
one, I, the unfortun<strong>at</strong>e one!<br />
Marco: I can’t believe my ears… How could I have ever been so unlucky! Ok,<br />
calm down! I got it, Dante. Now I just want to know one last th<strong>in</strong>g: how <strong>in</strong><br />
the hell am I supposed to get back to my world and my stuff?<br />
Dante: Everyth<strong>in</strong>g comes <strong>in</strong> time! Soon you will return home, but now you are<br />
here: you can limit yourself to play<strong>in</strong>g the spect<strong>at</strong>or or decide to take my side<br />
or Vergil’s. Th<strong>at</strong> way you could make your stay <strong>in</strong> this reality more excit<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
Marco: No way! Don’t even th<strong>in</strong>k about it! I’m with you and I’ll stay with you…<br />
I don’t know how I can help you though. I’m short and I don’t even know<br />
how to hold a sword!<br />
Dante: [p<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g him on the back]: Your respect is enough… but here comes<br />
Vergil!<br />
Enter Vergil.<br />
Marco: Oh my God. He’s so tall!<br />
Vergil [gnash<strong>in</strong>g his teeth and slowly approach<strong>in</strong>g Dante]: Stupid brother, you<br />
haven’t had enough? Give me the medallion and you’ll be saved!<br />
Dante: It was given to me so th<strong>at</strong> I could reign over our country br<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g peace<br />
and tranquillity… You will do just the opposite. You are evil personified!<br />
Music and coreography: Vergil, c<strong>at</strong>-like, bounces forward brandish<strong>in</strong>g his long sword<br />
to kill Marco. Dante grabs him from beh<strong>in</strong>d and holds him firmly and he flails about<br />
like an eel. He tries to free himself, but Dante is stronger. He strikes him and Vergil,<br />
shout<strong>in</strong>g, disappears beh<strong>in</strong>d the flexible screen.<br />
Dante: Wh<strong>at</strong> a terrible de<strong>at</strong>h! And just th<strong>in</strong>k, we could have ruled the country<br />
together, <strong>in</strong> harmony. The hunger for power and delusions of grandeur never<br />
reap good fortune, remember than Marco! If you want, now you can return<br />
to your reality… a virtual door will open and you will be free.<br />
Dante disappears beh<strong>in</strong>d Marco.<br />
Marco: I’m almost tempted to stay. Th<strong>at</strong> way, I wouldn’t have to listen to my<br />
mother’s nagg<strong>in</strong>g anymore, my demand<strong>in</strong>g girlfriend. Feel the burden of a<br />
steady job th<strong>at</strong> I can’t f<strong>in</strong>d. And if th<strong>at</strong> weren’t enough… tomorrow’s performance!<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> can I say! It’s my life and I have to grit my teeth and fight, just<br />
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like Dante, everyday, to make it better and to become better! I’m off! [shout<strong>in</strong>g]<br />
So long then, Dante! Good luck and thank you, wherever you are!<br />
A strong light flashes on the video. The video shuts off. Marco wakes with a start.<br />
He shouts. Darkness.<br />
Light on Raffaele sleep<strong>in</strong>g. He turns and a football rolls off the stage. Noise and voices<br />
from the stadium. Football players enter from the audience, wav<strong>in</strong>g to the fans.<br />
Audience: Inter! Inter! Inter!<br />
The recorded voice of the comment<strong>at</strong>or can be heard.<br />
Comment<strong>at</strong>or: Our players look like they’re <strong>in</strong> good shape… [Raffaele comes<br />
forward and grabs the ball they throw back to him from the audience where it ended<br />
up]… But here comes the gre<strong>at</strong> Santopietro now… He looks all fired up<br />
and ready to go, ready to w<strong>in</strong>!<br />
The fans cheer him on.<br />
Audience: Santopietro, Santopietro…<br />
Comment<strong>at</strong>or: The teams are ready. We’re just wait<strong>in</strong>g for the referee to blow<br />
his whistle.<br />
Lights only on Raffaele/Santopietro, dribbl<strong>in</strong>g the ball.<br />
Santopietro: Oh my God! Just w<strong>at</strong>ch. I’m about to have a heart <strong>at</strong>tack! I’ve got<br />
too much adrenal<strong>in</strong>e runn<strong>in</strong>g through my system… My God… I th<strong>in</strong>k I’m<br />
just go<strong>in</strong>g to turn right around and hightail it outa here.<br />
Lights only on the footballers/dancers, who get up on the stage and get <strong>in</strong>to position.<br />
Comment<strong>at</strong>or: This is the first time our Santopietro has played <strong>in</strong> a championship<br />
game. Here with me is the person who dis<strong>cover</strong>ed him and brought<br />
him to us: the football champion Javier Zanetti. Would you like to give him<br />
some words of encouragement?<br />
Zanetti: Come on, Raf, let’s go! I gotcha. Even I was scared the first time I set<br />
foot on a football field, but then you get used to it! Now just th<strong>in</strong>k about play<strong>in</strong>g<br />
and giv<strong>in</strong>g it your best shot.<br />
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The referee blows his whistle to start the game.<br />
Coreography: the footballers/dancers simul<strong>at</strong>e a football m<strong>at</strong>ch. In the end, Raffaele<br />
falls to the ground.<br />
Comment<strong>at</strong>or: Foul aga<strong>in</strong>st Santopietro.<br />
Light stops on Raffaele. The others are immobile.<br />
Santopietro: This can’t be the end. I can’t let my teamm<strong>at</strong>es down, much less<br />
the fans! Come on, get up… It’s noth<strong>in</strong>g. Now it’s time I made the impossible<br />
possible.<br />
Lights low. The audience cheers. Raffaele gets up and goes toward the group of footballers.<br />
Comment<strong>at</strong>or: There he goes, Santopietro is gett<strong>in</strong>g up! This player’s got some<br />
strength!<br />
Zanetti: Come on guys! We’ve got to w<strong>in</strong> this game! Santopietro… Come on!<br />
You’re do<strong>in</strong>g gre<strong>at</strong>, just keep on do<strong>in</strong>g wh<strong>at</strong> you’re do<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
Comment<strong>at</strong>or: Inter is play<strong>in</strong>g for the championship! Santopietro! The game is<br />
<strong>in</strong> your hands, or r<strong>at</strong>her <strong>in</strong> your feet!<br />
Audience: Santopietro, Santopietro!<br />
The choreography starts up aga<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> slow motion, simul<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g the foul aga<strong>in</strong>st Santopietro.<br />
The music stops. Raffaele, <strong>in</strong> slow motion but without music, positions the ball on the<br />
imag<strong>in</strong>ary center spot. The dancers exit, still <strong>in</strong> slow motion. In the meantime, you<br />
can hear the fans cheer<strong>in</strong>g as well as the voice of the comment<strong>at</strong>or and Zanetti.<br />
Audience: Penalty! Penalty!<br />
Zanetti: Come on, remember th<strong>at</strong> the penalty zone is your home, your opponents<br />
are the ball and the goal is your prey. You are the pred<strong>at</strong>or, destroy it.<br />
Comment<strong>at</strong>or: Penalty kick for Santopietro.<br />
Santopietro: I won’t let you down… I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to make this goal.<br />
Zanetti: I have faith <strong>in</strong> you… go and get th<strong>at</strong> goal! San Siro is on your side!<br />
The theme song of Chariots of Fire beg<strong>in</strong>s. The crowd goes wild, then total silence:<br />
Santopietro kicks and the crowd cheers… Raffaele throws himself onto the bed as if it<br />
were the goal… The alarm goes off.<br />
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Raffaele [as if wak<strong>in</strong>g with a start]: Goal! Goal! [look<strong>in</strong>g around, he picks up his<br />
mobile, turns off the alarm] Wh<strong>at</strong>, who set the alarm for this hour?… Right<br />
when we were… but did we w<strong>in</strong>? Capitan Zanetti? Captan Zanetti?<br />
Raffaele leaves, tak<strong>in</strong>g the ball with him. Darkness.<br />
Lorenzo’s mother’s voice can be heard. Light on Lorenzo, on the pl<strong>at</strong>form, sleep<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Mother: Lorenzo! Wake up, it’s l<strong>at</strong>e. Lorenzo!<br />
The alarm cont<strong>in</strong>ues go<strong>in</strong>g off. Lorenzo keeps toss<strong>in</strong>g and turn<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> bed. He sticks an<br />
arm out from under the <strong>cover</strong>s but cannot f<strong>in</strong>d the alarm on the nightstand to turn it<br />
off. His mother cont<strong>in</strong>ues call<strong>in</strong>g him, shout<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Lorenzo: My mother, the most unpleasant alarm on the planet earth, produc<strong>in</strong>g<br />
a shrill, annoy<strong>in</strong>g sound th<strong>at</strong> not even the Ch<strong>in</strong>ese have managed to reproduce.<br />
Mother: Wake uuuuuuuup, it’s very laaaaaaa<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Lorenzo: Yes, mother.<br />
Mother: Lorenzo! Wake up, it’s l<strong>at</strong>e!<br />
Lorenzo f<strong>in</strong>ally gets up.<br />
Mother: Are you awake? Lorenzo!<br />
Lorenzo: Yeeeeeees, I’m awake! At least I th<strong>in</strong>k I am! Ugh! Everyday the same old<br />
same old. And wh<strong>at</strong> if I put my mother on eBay? In your op<strong>in</strong>ion, would anyone<br />
buy her? I would even accept an exchange… th<strong>at</strong> would last <strong>at</strong> least thirty<br />
years! My God, I’m so tired… so tired I can barely see the b<strong>at</strong>hroom door…<br />
He exits as if enter<strong>in</strong>g the b<strong>at</strong>hroom, then exits the b<strong>at</strong>hroom aga<strong>in</strong> immedi<strong>at</strong>ely. He<br />
has a terrified, <strong>in</strong>credulous look on his face. He exits aga<strong>in</strong> and re-enters with a mirror.<br />
He hesit<strong>at</strong>es and then looks <strong>in</strong>to the mirror aga<strong>in</strong>. He has become a black man.<br />
Lorenzo: Oh my God, I’m black, all black! Wh<strong>at</strong>’s happened to me? Wh<strong>at</strong> happened<br />
last night… It must have been the mozzarella I <strong>at</strong>e yesterday! [still look<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>at</strong> himself <strong>in</strong> the mirror] Ooooh my God! My sk<strong>in</strong>! My beautiful sk<strong>in</strong>! And<br />
now? Wh<strong>at</strong> am I go<strong>in</strong>g to do? [putt<strong>in</strong>g on a tee-shirt] But, look <strong>at</strong> these muscles,<br />
this body… I’ve even got a six-pack! Well, I’ve got to admit, even as a black man<br />
I’m pretty hot! Ok, back to reality. It couldn’t have been the food… Maybe one<br />
of my mother’s potions… There’s got to be a reasonable explan<strong>at</strong>ion!<br />
177
He picks up his iPod. Music starts up. A dance troupe enters. Hip hop coreography.<br />
Lorenzo turns off his iPod. In the meantime, he f<strong>in</strong>ishes gett<strong>in</strong>g dressed, still wear<strong>in</strong>g<br />
an <strong>in</strong>credulous expression on his face.<br />
Lorenzo: Geez, it’s l<strong>at</strong>e! Time to go to <strong>school</strong>… this red tracksuit is perfect…<br />
black and red… too cool! Go Milan! Forever!<br />
Music. Lorenzo exits stage right, but a group of guys push him toward the stage. They<br />
surround him.<br />
Lorenzo: Hey guys, wh<strong>at</strong>’s go<strong>in</strong>g on? Wh<strong>at</strong>’s wrong?<br />
Raffaele: Well who do we have here? Anybody know this guy? Where did he<br />
come from?<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: So, who are you? You’re nobody!<br />
Lorenzo: Guys, it’s me, Lorenzo!<br />
Marco: Get lost! Get out of here!<br />
Lorenzo <strong>at</strong>tempts to exit to the left but two elegantly dressed men with sunglasses enter<br />
from backstage and shove him. Lorenzo tries to get away.<br />
Lorenzo: And now wh<strong>at</strong> am I go<strong>in</strong>g to do? Let me out of here before I get my<br />
butt kicked!<br />
Man 1: Hey you, where do you th<strong>in</strong>k you’re go<strong>in</strong>g, you black piece of shit!<br />
Man 2: W<strong>at</strong>ch out, we’ve got our eye on you!<br />
They follow him and take him by the arms. The others also beg<strong>in</strong> to approach him.<br />
Lorenzo: Why are you follow<strong>in</strong>g me? I haven’t done anyth<strong>in</strong>g. Leave me alone!<br />
Help, I haven’t done anyth<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
Man 1: Tell us who you are.<br />
Man 2: Just wh<strong>at</strong> do you th<strong>in</strong>k you’re go<strong>in</strong>g to do?<br />
Man 1: You’re plann<strong>in</strong>g an <strong>at</strong>tack, aren’t you?!<br />
Lorenzo: But I don’t even know how to plan a birthday party, much less an <strong>at</strong>tack!<br />
Man 1: So, you want to plant some bomb here, dirty nigger.<br />
Lorenzo: Maybe some firecrackers, <strong>at</strong> the most… Believe me, this morn<strong>in</strong>g I<br />
was white!<br />
Man 2: Ah-ha, you were white? And so, now wh<strong>at</strong>’s happened?<br />
Man 1: Get burned <strong>in</strong> the oven?<br />
Lorenzo: No, believe me… I was white… Really… Leave me alone.<br />
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Raffaele: Th<strong>at</strong>’s enough! Let him go!<br />
Man 2: Why, you know him?<br />
Lorenzo: Why sure he knows me! He’s my best friend!<br />
Raffaele: No, I don’t know him… But I don’t like wh<strong>at</strong> you’re do<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
Man 1: Get out of the way!! M<strong>in</strong>d your own bus<strong>in</strong>ess!<br />
Man 2: Right, Stay out of this!<br />
Marco: Why? Wh<strong>at</strong> are you go<strong>in</strong>g to do about it?<br />
Lorenzo: Guys… Forget it…<br />
Music. Coreography with the two hip-hop groups. In the end, the two men run away<br />
and the others walk away laugh<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
In the meantime, Lorenzo has taken refuge close to the pl<strong>at</strong>form. He tosses and turns<br />
as if he were hav<strong>in</strong>g a nightmare. He hears the alarm. Lorenzo gets up with a start<br />
and grabs the mirror.<br />
Lorenzo: Oh my God, it was just a bad dream, I was only dream<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
His mother shouts from the other room.<br />
Mother: Lorenzo, are you awaaaaaake?<br />
Lorenzo: Yes, mom, I’m awake. Mom, you are the sweetest alarm <strong>in</strong> the whole<br />
world!<br />
Darkness.<br />
Background music. Everyone enters and prepares the stage for the performance.<br />
Coreography. Everyone exits. Teresa approaches the trunk and takes out a costume.<br />
The director, Marco, enters out of bre<strong>at</strong>h and takes out a ladder.<br />
Marco: Hurry up, Teresa. We go on <strong>in</strong> fifteen m<strong>in</strong>utes and I want everyth<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
be perfect.<br />
Teresa: Marco, wh<strong>at</strong>’s wrong? I’ve never seen you so determ<strong>in</strong>ed!<br />
Enter Lea.<br />
Marco: Oh yea? You know, last night when I was play<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> videogame…<br />
Lea: Marco, this isn’t really the right time to talk about videogames…<br />
Marco: Yea, you’re right Lea. In a little while the real game beg<strong>in</strong>s! Everyone to<br />
your b<strong>at</strong>tle st<strong>at</strong>ions then!<br />
Lea: Oh God, they said there’s a full house, and your boyfriend will even be there.<br />
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Teresa: Really? I’m so nervous!<br />
Enter Lorenzo.<br />
Lorenzo: Oh Lea! You’ll never believe the dream, or r<strong>at</strong>her the nightmare, I had<br />
last night! I turned <strong>in</strong>to a black man!<br />
Lea: Really! Th<strong>at</strong>’s gre<strong>at</strong>!<br />
Lorenzo: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you mean «th<strong>at</strong>’s gre<strong>at</strong>»? It was a nightmare!<br />
Lea: Right, but now you’re white. You’ve woken up aga<strong>in</strong> and now you’ve got to<br />
get a move on because the performance is about to beg<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Enter Raffaele. He walks up to Lorenzo.<br />
Raffaele [fac<strong>in</strong>g Lorenzo]: Did you really have a nightmare last night? I, on the<br />
other hand, had the most wonderful dream I’ve ever had: I was a footballer<br />
and played for Inter.<br />
Lorenzo: Still an Inter fan? You’d be better off play<strong>in</strong>g for Milan!<br />
Raffaele: Right! All my idols were <strong>in</strong> it: Eto’o, Milito, Captan Zanetti and some<br />
others. It was the gre<strong>at</strong>est game of the championship… the Milan derby, Inter<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>st you guys.<br />
Lorenzo: And I bet, <strong>in</strong> the end, you even made a goal and won?<br />
Raffaele: Of course!<br />
Lorenzo: At least <strong>in</strong> your dreams!<br />
Raffaele: In the end, I made the penalty kick th<strong>at</strong> won the game. Ball on the center<br />
spot, run and kick. The ball shot through the goal posts like a missile. Goal<br />
Goal Goal!!!<br />
Lorenzo: And then you woke up and we won the championships!<br />
Lea: And who were you? Which player?<br />
Raffaele: Me, don’t you get it? I was just myself… Santopietro, me… it was <strong>in</strong>credible!<br />
Lorenzo and Raffaele exit ch<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g to each other. Enter Felisya and Lea.<br />
Raffaele: Hi Felisya. So, did your dog ever wake up?<br />
Felisya: Of course!<br />
Raffaele: So then we can have him do the kiss<strong>in</strong>g scene, with my dog, right?<br />
Felisya: Yea, yea!<br />
Raffaele exits.<br />
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Felisya: Did you see how he looked <strong>at</strong> me?<br />
Lea: Hey, wh<strong>at</strong> do you want from me? I haven’t got any idea!<br />
Marco [enter<strong>in</strong>g]: Come on, hurry up! Let’s rehearse the dance and then <strong>in</strong>to the<br />
dress<strong>in</strong>g room! We go on <strong>in</strong> ten m<strong>in</strong>utes!<br />
Lea: Oh my God!!!<br />
Song and coreography. Everyone exits. The curta<strong>in</strong>s close. An announcement is made<br />
for the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g of the performance. The curta<strong>in</strong>s reopen while Teresa is try<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
move the trunk off the stage.<br />
Teresa: I have to do everyth<strong>in</strong>g!!!<br />
She realizes th<strong>at</strong> the curta<strong>in</strong>s are open and the audience is look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> her.<br />
Teresa: Oh my God! It’s the audience! Now wh<strong>at</strong> do I do? The performance was<br />
supposed to beg<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> ten m<strong>in</strong>utes… This time the director is go<strong>in</strong>g to fire me<br />
for sure… [to the audience] Um, ahem, good even<strong>in</strong>g, there’s been a mistake.<br />
I’m just the costume designer. I was just putt<strong>in</strong>g these th<strong>in</strong>gs away. I shouldn’t<br />
be here… [smil<strong>in</strong>g, embarrassed] And, well, I can talk to you about someth<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
<strong>at</strong> least I can try… th<strong>at</strong> way the rest of the company can f<strong>in</strong>ish gett<strong>in</strong>g ready.<br />
[she opens the trunk and takes out a stuffed animal] Here, this is Lea’s dog… She<br />
loves dogs. [she takes an Inter scarf out of the trunk] Oh, this scarf rem<strong>in</strong>ds me of<br />
someone. He likes play<strong>in</strong>g football. He has always dreamed of becom<strong>in</strong>g a famous<br />
footballer and play<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> the A leagues. He always wears a scarf, summer<br />
and w<strong>in</strong>ter, even when he goes to <strong>school</strong>. In the summer he wraps it around his<br />
head to protect his head from the sun and <strong>in</strong> the w<strong>in</strong>ter from the cold. [she takes<br />
out a red swe<strong>at</strong>shirt] And this, on the other hand, is Lorenzo’s, who once<br />
dreamed he’d turned <strong>in</strong>to a black man…! [Teresa puts on a crown] And this rem<strong>in</strong>ds<br />
me of my friend who spends hours pick<strong>in</strong>g out her clothes! [she takes out<br />
a tammorra] Our music, the way P<strong>in</strong>o plays it, th<strong>at</strong> we love so much… [she<br />
takes out her seamstress smock] This is my favourite smock. It’s my seamstress<br />
uniform. When I put it on I’m Teresa, the stage seamstress. The C<strong>in</strong>derella of<br />
the company, but I’m happy every time a costume is worn and takes on a life of<br />
it’s own on the stage. I feel like the pr<strong>in</strong>cess of the performance, like I’m 1, 2,<br />
10, 100 actors. I can cre<strong>at</strong>e anyth<strong>in</strong>g I want with my needle and thread, [she<br />
puts on the smock] and with my smock on I feel like a Queen!<br />
Enter P<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
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P<strong>in</strong>o: Have you seen my tammorra?<br />
Teresa makes sweep<strong>in</strong>g gesture with her hands to <strong>in</strong>dic<strong>at</strong>e the audience…<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: Hello everyone!<br />
Teresa [try<strong>in</strong>g to salvage the situ<strong>at</strong>ion]: Ladies and gentlemen, here I have for you<br />
our first artist… An applause please… Come on… Go on, <strong>in</strong>troduce yourself<br />
to the audience.<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: My name is P<strong>in</strong>o, short for Giuseppe, like my grandf<strong>at</strong>her on my f<strong>at</strong>her’s<br />
side. But my nickname sounds better, even on Facebook you can f<strong>in</strong>d me listed<br />
as «P<strong>in</strong>o D’Incenzo». I was born on October 17, 1991 <strong>in</strong> the Melfi hospital,<br />
but I’m from Rionero <strong>in</strong> Vulture. I’m a Libra, which has always given me<br />
my fair share of problems. I mean, I am very predisposed to the arts and to<br />
harmony and my <strong>in</strong>terests make me feel like an outcast…<br />
Teresa: Did you say th<strong>at</strong> you are predisposed to the arts and harmony? Wh<strong>at</strong> do<br />
you mean?<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: More than anyth<strong>in</strong>g else, I like music. I have always been surrounded by<br />
music because my brother and sister, as long as they were liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> home, always<br />
listened to music. When I was a child, I got a little piano, like the one <strong>in</strong><br />
Charlie Brown, for the Epiphany. But my f<strong>in</strong>gers were already a little too big<br />
for the keys and I couldn’t play it well. My f<strong>in</strong>gers weren’t even the right size<br />
for the guitar. I had a gre<strong>at</strong> sense of rhythm and percussion <strong>in</strong> general had always<br />
fasc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ed me… I began by tak<strong>in</strong>g the pots and pans from my mother’s<br />
kitchen… I be<strong>at</strong> on them with wooden spoons. Then my brother told me th<strong>at</strong><br />
his friend played on boxes of Dash. Because of my passion, I made some sacrifices<br />
so I could buy a tammorra, an <strong>in</strong>strument th<strong>at</strong>’s easier for me to play<br />
and th<strong>at</strong>’s a part of my tradition.<br />
Teresa: Can you play someth<strong>in</strong>g for us?<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o: If some of you can help me…<br />
Teresa: Well, here we have an authentic group of briganti from Basilic<strong>at</strong>a…<br />
The flexible screen is illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ed, upon which images of Basilic<strong>at</strong>a are projected,<br />
while P<strong>in</strong>o gently taps out a rhythm on his tammorra.<br />
Teresa: They come from the hills and mounta<strong>in</strong>s…<br />
All of the characters beg<strong>in</strong> to emerge from the screen with percussion <strong>in</strong>struments.<br />
Teresa: They emerge from the caverns. They gaze up <strong>at</strong> the castle towers… They<br />
move through the whe<strong>at</strong> fields, the olive groves and the v<strong>in</strong>eyards…<br />
182
Felisya [while position<strong>in</strong>g herself on the stage]: …I am strong and full of hope…<br />
Lea [walk<strong>in</strong>g to her]: …they want to be, to struggle. They want to be leaders.<br />
Marco [com<strong>in</strong>g forward]: They want to shout, to shake up the world.<br />
Lorenzo [com<strong>in</strong>g forward]: They want to tell their story…<br />
Raffaele [com<strong>in</strong>g forward]: To tell you, to tell everyone their stories…<br />
Teresa [com<strong>in</strong>g forward]: …our stories and our dreams…<br />
P<strong>in</strong>o [com<strong>in</strong>g forward]: …our music…<br />
Coreography and f<strong>in</strong>al song Vulesse addeventare by Eugenio Benn<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
183
Once upon a time…<br />
Inspired by a famous monologue by Gigi Proietti, A fairy tale, <strong>in</strong> which an old<br />
man adventures <strong>in</strong>to a traditional «Once upon a time» story and ends up confus<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
situ<strong>at</strong>ions and characters <strong>in</strong> a lively, comic performance. A group of professionals<br />
and students from Rome have collectively rewritten the story of C<strong>in</strong>derella,<br />
a C<strong>in</strong>derella for our age…<br />
«Bam! Turn off the television and fire up the fireplace. And why? Because they<br />
say television has taken the place of the fireplace <strong>in</strong> homes, <strong>in</strong> families, but it isn’t<br />
true. Once, people told fairy tales <strong>in</strong> front of the fire, but now kids only know<br />
them from Japanese cartoons. Adults hardly remember them and the old people<br />
confuse them» (Gigi Proietti)<br />
… and the young people… Re<strong>in</strong>vent them!<br />
C<strong>in</strong>derella <strong>at</strong> Tor Bella Monaca<br />
AUTHORS: Fabrizio Bordignon, Carlotta Leoni, V<strong>in</strong>cenza Loprei<strong>at</strong>o, Sab<strong>in</strong>a Parisi, Simona<br />
Pett<strong>in</strong>ari, Antonio Roma, Paola Ventura<br />
Once upon a time, there was a family th<strong>at</strong> lived on the fifth floor of a build<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> Torbellamonaca, a suburban slum.<br />
184
Their days went on peacefully, the f<strong>at</strong>her measur<strong>in</strong>g coca<strong>in</strong>e <strong>in</strong>to little bags so<br />
he could deal it, the stepmother sitt<strong>in</strong>g on the couch fan<strong>at</strong>ically w<strong>at</strong>ch<strong>in</strong>g Men<br />
and Women on the TV along with her two daughters Chanel and Jessica, who<br />
were send<strong>in</strong>g text messages on their mobiles and giv<strong>in</strong>g each other French manicures.<br />
Giada, the f<strong>at</strong>her’s daughter from a previous marriage, referred to by<br />
everyone as C<strong>in</strong>derella, <strong>in</strong> the meantime was search<strong>in</strong>g for a quiet place to study,<br />
but was constantly disturbed by the <strong>in</strong>cessant requests of her family, «C<strong>in</strong>derella,<br />
where the fuck are you? Always with your nose <strong>in</strong> those fuck<strong>in</strong>g books»!<br />
Despite her home life, C<strong>in</strong>derella was determ<strong>in</strong>ed to cont<strong>in</strong>ue <strong>at</strong>tend<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>school</strong> because her studies were the only th<strong>in</strong>g she cared about. She was particularly<br />
passion<strong>at</strong>e about the courses held by the nice, young professor of Music,<br />
Spartacus or Tito, for short. Until one terrible, terrible day some policemen <strong>in</strong><br />
uniforms accompanied by angry drug hounds headed by the upstand<strong>in</strong>g Capta<strong>in</strong><br />
Desio Fiamma broke down the door of the house, knock<strong>in</strong>g down poor Giada,<br />
who was study<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> the only quiet corner <strong>in</strong> the apartment, right beh<strong>in</strong>d<br />
th<strong>at</strong> particular door. Our poor C<strong>in</strong>derella, devast<strong>at</strong>ed by the police, lost consciousness<br />
and woke up aga<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> the hospital a few days l<strong>at</strong>er with cranial trauma.<br />
Only Professor Tito could be found <strong>at</strong> her bedside, gaz<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> her with concern.<br />
He told her about everyth<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> had happened, about the solitary conf<strong>in</strong>ement<br />
of her f<strong>at</strong>her follow<strong>in</strong>g his arrest and of her days spent unconscious. As soon as<br />
she was dismissed from the hospital, the young man accompanied her home and<br />
yet another hard blow left our C<strong>in</strong>derella reel<strong>in</strong>g, her stepmother and stepsisters<br />
had taken possession of the house and releg<strong>at</strong>ed her to a teeny, t<strong>in</strong>y room <strong>in</strong> the<br />
<strong>at</strong>tic. From th<strong>at</strong> moment on, her life changed drastically. She was forced to leave<br />
<strong>school</strong> and cont<strong>in</strong>ue her f<strong>at</strong>her’s illegal drug push<strong>in</strong>g. Days and months dragged<br />
on and C<strong>in</strong>derella’s hard life cont<strong>in</strong>ued on relentlessly as she took care of the<br />
house and dealt drugs <strong>in</strong> the neighborhood. The professor didn’t hear anyth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
from beautiful C<strong>in</strong>derella for a long time, until one day, while he was w<strong>at</strong>ch<strong>in</strong>g<br />
TV, he heard they were look<strong>in</strong>g for young s<strong>in</strong>gers for a talent show on television.<br />
His favorite student immedi<strong>at</strong>ely came to m<strong>in</strong>d and he showed up <strong>at</strong> C<strong>in</strong>derella’s<br />
house. He met the evil stepmother stand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> the doorway who, without<br />
even ask<strong>in</strong>g him <strong>in</strong>side, told him th<strong>at</strong>, s<strong>in</strong>ce C<strong>in</strong>derella’s f<strong>at</strong>her had been taken<br />
away, she hadn’t heard anyth<strong>in</strong>g more from her stepdaughter, but th<strong>at</strong> she was<br />
delighted <strong>at</strong> the professor’s <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>ion and th<strong>at</strong> he could take her two daughters<br />
on the air, pass<strong>in</strong>g them off as extraord<strong>in</strong>ary s<strong>in</strong>gers. The guardian of the build<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a aka, the Fairy, overheard the entire convers<strong>at</strong>ion while she was clean<strong>in</strong>g<br />
the stairs. C<strong>in</strong>derella was not told about the visit, and when the f<strong>at</strong>eful day of<br />
the performance arrived, the sisters fervently prepared themselves while Giada<br />
hurried to f<strong>in</strong>ish the last of the household chores, conv<strong>in</strong>ced th<strong>at</strong> she would be<br />
185
able to accompany them. All primped and ready, rush<strong>in</strong>g to get out the door, Giada’s<br />
stepmother and stepsisters maliciously closed it and locked poor C<strong>in</strong>derella<br />
<strong>in</strong>side. T<strong>in</strong>a, the guardian, always listen<strong>in</strong>g to everyth<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> happened <strong>in</strong> the<br />
build<strong>in</strong>g, heard the young girl cry<strong>in</strong>g and ran to her aid and, expert th<strong>at</strong> she was<br />
<strong>at</strong> open<strong>in</strong>g doors, freed her and accompanied her on the air. Meanwhile, the professor,<br />
saddened by the absence of his favorite student, led the sisters onto the<br />
stage <strong>in</strong> spite of himself to perform on Let’s dance by Paola and Chiara, but just<br />
then Giada arrived. The professor saw her and <strong>in</strong> a rush of joy shoved the stepsisters<br />
aside, ran to take C<strong>in</strong>derella by the hand and gently escorted her up onto the<br />
stage. He said to the audience, «Here you are, the <strong>in</strong>credibly sweet Giada and her<br />
melodic voice». While sweets music flowed from the lips of the gentle young girl,<br />
<strong>in</strong>toxic<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g everyone, their love-filled gazes met as she sang We don’t need words<br />
by the gre<strong>at</strong> s<strong>in</strong>ger Ron. From then on the two never stopped gaz<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to each<br />
others eyes. They were madly <strong>in</strong> love and lived happily ever after.<br />
C<strong>in</strong>derella <strong>at</strong> C<strong>in</strong>ecittà 2<br />
TEXTS BY Giulio Longo, Elisa Ferrazza, Valent<strong>in</strong>a Ricci<br />
RE-ADAPTED BY Paola Ventura and Lidia Giansanti<br />
Once upon a time <strong>in</strong> a neighbourhood <strong>in</strong> Rome called C<strong>in</strong>ecittà 2, a family<br />
made up of: the real f<strong>at</strong>her Geppetto, a carpenter; the stepmother Lasedia who<br />
helped her husband <strong>in</strong> his carpentry; two stepsisters Bà and Bu who were study<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to be aestheticians and C<strong>in</strong>derella Laroscia, a homemaker.<br />
The entire family spent all its time e<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g p<strong>at</strong>isserie and gett<strong>in</strong>g f<strong>at</strong> and pimply,<br />
and the two stepsisters spent all their time fight<strong>in</strong>g with each other and then<br />
with C<strong>in</strong>derella, say<strong>in</strong>g everyth<strong>in</strong>g imag<strong>in</strong>able to each other. The two wicked<br />
girls were jealous of C<strong>in</strong>derella because she <strong>at</strong>e and <strong>at</strong>e but never got f<strong>at</strong> and, s<strong>in</strong>ce<br />
she was the most beautiful of all of them, had the most beautiful clothes and always<br />
went danc<strong>in</strong>g with a black bag.<br />
One day an <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>ion from the pr<strong>in</strong>ce arrived, <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>in</strong>g C<strong>in</strong>derella to go to<br />
dance <strong>at</strong> his disco Una Borg<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> C<strong>in</strong>ecittà 2. C<strong>in</strong>derella was happy but her stepsisters<br />
were envious and told C<strong>in</strong>derella not to go to the dance. Until their f<strong>at</strong>her<br />
<strong>in</strong>tervened and hit the stepsisters and sent C<strong>in</strong>derella to the ball.<br />
But the family was too poor and C<strong>in</strong>derella didn’t have a dress. Then a fairy<br />
arrived, the «good even<strong>in</strong>g girl» on Channel 5, a beautiful, blond anchorwoman<br />
who told C<strong>in</strong>derella, «I’ve come to help you go to the ball. You can’t go with<br />
those rags on. I’ll help you with my magic wand», and th<strong>at</strong>’s how she made an elegant,<br />
bell-shaped, cream colored Armani gown for the girl, gave her two huge<br />
186
<strong>in</strong>gs, transformed the dogs and c<strong>at</strong>s <strong>in</strong>to seven white horses and a tree <strong>in</strong>to a carriage.<br />
However, she told C<strong>in</strong>derella th<strong>at</strong> she had to be home by midnight before<br />
the magic spell ended.<br />
This was how C<strong>in</strong>derella got to the ball and met Pr<strong>in</strong>ce Amadeus. They<br />
walked up to each other, spoke, fell <strong>in</strong> love and the Pr<strong>in</strong>ce immedi<strong>at</strong>ely asked the<br />
girl to marry him and have a family. But while they were danc<strong>in</strong>g, C<strong>in</strong>derella got<br />
a stomach ache and had to run to the b<strong>at</strong>hroom. In the meantime, the stepsisters<br />
arrived and went to Amadeus and told him th<strong>at</strong> C<strong>in</strong>derella had e<strong>at</strong>en too many<br />
sweets, which is why she felt sick to her stomach. Just then, C<strong>in</strong>derella came out<br />
of the b<strong>at</strong>hroom and, see<strong>in</strong>g her pr<strong>in</strong>ce with her evil stepsisters, began shout<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>at</strong> him. To justify himself, Amadeus said, «life’s too short not to laugh about it».<br />
But <strong>in</strong> the meantime, midnight had struck and C<strong>in</strong>derella ran away from the<br />
ball, leav<strong>in</strong>g her glass dance slipper beh<strong>in</strong>d. She returned home dejected and devast<strong>at</strong>ed<br />
and met her stepsisters, who had run out of the party as soon as they saw<br />
C<strong>in</strong>derella come out of the b<strong>at</strong>hroom. She said, «You two should’ve m<strong>in</strong>ded<br />
your own bus<strong>in</strong>ess!!». Offended, the stepsisters responded, «We might be f<strong>at</strong>ter,<br />
but if you keep be<strong>in</strong>g so bitchy you’ll be a sp<strong>in</strong>ster all your life!».<br />
The next day, the pr<strong>in</strong>ce’s butler, who had seen C<strong>in</strong>derella lose her shoe just<br />
the day before, arrived <strong>at</strong> their house, and th<strong>at</strong> was how the pr<strong>in</strong>ce found his<br />
beloved aga<strong>in</strong>. The f<strong>at</strong>her was happy about their marriage but the envious and<br />
jealous stepsisters were not.<br />
C<strong>in</strong>derella and Pr<strong>in</strong>ce Amadeus got married and celebr<strong>at</strong>ed with fireworks.<br />
They had two children Amadeus Junior and Frankus and went to live…<br />
…<strong>in</strong> a local health authority office th<strong>at</strong> was previously a barn (Giulio’s end<strong>in</strong>g)<br />
…<strong>in</strong> a palace <strong>in</strong> Parioli (Valent<strong>in</strong>a’s end<strong>in</strong>g)<br />
And they all lived happily ever after.<br />
187
ΕΛΛΆΔΑ<br />
GREECE<br />
GRECIA
ΕΙΣΑΓΩΓΉ<br />
Το Θέατρο είναι συνυφασμένο με την Ελλάδα όπως η κληματαριά<br />
με το τσαμπί της: Σε αυτόν τον ταλαιπωρημένο βράχο στην άκρη της<br />
Ευρώπης, τον λουσμένο με φως και θάλασσα, γεννήθηκε και<br />
αντρώθηκε η Θεατρική Πράξη. Άλλοτε ως πολιτική παρέμβαση, άλλοτε<br />
ως ύψιστο πολιτιστικό δρώμενο, το θέατρο πάντα υπερασπιζόταν την<br />
βασική του ιδιότητα, εκείνη που ο παππούς Αριστοτέλης κρατάει στο<br />
τέλος του ορισμού του για την Τραγωδία: την Κάθαρση, δηλαδή την<br />
Θεραπεία του κοινού…<br />
Μια ομάδα νέων και νεότερων Ελλήνων, ακριβώς πάνω στα<br />
χώματα που ο Αριστοφανικός Τρυγαίος προσπαθούσε να ελευθερώσει<br />
την Ειρήνη από τα δεσμά της, δοκίμασε το θέατρο ως εργαλείο<br />
υποστήριξης, δυναμικής έκφρασης, συμμετοχής και δύναμης. Πολλές<br />
ιστορίες πλάστηκαν από την αρχή, από άτομα που δεν ήταν πάντα σε<br />
θέση να εκφραστούν και να εκφράσουν δυναμικά τα θέλω τους.<br />
Φόβοι αναδύθηκαν στην επιφάνεια, οι ρόλοι άλλοτε στενοί -<br />
στενάχωροι, άλλοτε έπλεαν απάνω μας , αλλά εμείς εκεί, όλοι η<br />
ομάδα να επιμένουμε στο παιχνίδι, στο δράμα και στην κωμωδία, να<br />
αποτυπώνουμε τις ζωές μας με λόγο, κίνηση, χορό και έκφραση. Νέοι<br />
σε κίνδυνο αποκλεισμού, μερικοί ήδη αποκλεισμένοι, μαζί και μείς οι<br />
θεραπευτές βρήκαμε την ευκαιρία να μιλήσουμε, να τραγουδήσουμε,<br />
να υποδυθούμε ρόλους που δεν ήμασταν εμείς – ή μήπως είμαστε?<br />
Σενάρια, μονόλογοι, ποιητικές εκφράσεις, κάθε είδους κατάθεση<br />
ψυχής διαδραματίστηκε κατά την διάρκεια του Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>er.. Το<br />
191
ταξίδι ήταν μακρύ και δύσκολο, είχε συναισθήματα πολλά, λύπες<br />
αλλά και χαρές και νέοι δρόμοι!!!<br />
Τελικά, όλοι μαζί σαν μια ομάδα, με κεντρικό καράβι την «Ιστορία<br />
της Κουτάλας», με μηδενικά χρήματα αλλά πολύ κέφι, κάνοντας<br />
χρήση απλών υλικών, και με την πολύτιμη καθοδήγηση των Ιταλών<br />
εταίρων, κεφαλαιοποιήσαμε την υπάρχουσα εμπειρία μας, και<br />
ανοίξαμε νέους δρόμους για την προσέγγιση του κοινωνικού<br />
αποκλεισμού. Μετά από όλο αυτό το ταξίδι, η Κάθαρση ήρθε πιο κοντά<br />
μας, πιο μέσα μας.<br />
Σας ευχαριστούμε, και καλώς ήλθατε στο ταξίδι μας!<br />
192<br />
Η Ελληνική Ομάδα του Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>er
ΤΟ ΔΕΝΤΡΟ ΤΗΣ ΖΩΗΣ<br />
ΣΩΚΡΑΤΗΣ ΑΠΟΣΤΟΛΟΠΟΥΛΟΣ<br />
Μια φορά κι έναν καιρό, δύο παιδιά ξεκίνησαν να εξερευνήσουν το<br />
δάσος της περιοχής τους και πιο συγκεκριμένα, ένα ξακουστό δάσος<br />
που είχε μέσα το «ΔΕΝΤΡΟ ΤΗΣ ΖΩΗΣ». Τα δύο αυτά παιδιά λοιπόν<br />
που τα λέγανε Λόγκαν και Βίκτορ, αφού πήρανε τα απαραίτητα<br />
εφόδια μαζί τους, ξεκινήσανε την εξερεύνηση για το Δάσος.<br />
Καθώς λοιπόν περπατούσανε στο δρόμο τους, βλέπουν ένα λύκο,<br />
που ήταν και πολύ μεγάλος, άγριος. Ο Λύκος τότε τους είπε: «Αν<br />
θέλετε να σας αφήσω να περάσετε, πρώτα θα μου φέρετε όσο πιο<br />
πολύ κρέας μπορείτε, γιατί πεινάω πολύ!».<br />
Τι να κάνουν τότε τα δύο παιδιά, αναγκάστηκαν να ψάξουν όλο το<br />
δάσος και αφού σκότωσαν μερικά ελάφια και αλεπούδες, πήγαν όσο<br />
πιο γρήγορα μπορούσαν, να τα παραδώσουν στο Λύκο. Ο Λύκος τότε<br />
αφού τα έφαγε και χόρτασε, είπε στα παιδιά: «Είστε ελεύθεροι να<br />
συνεχίσετε το δρόμο σας».<br />
Αφού τα παιδιά στη συνέχεια, περπάτησαν δύο ώρες γεμάτες, βλέπουνε<br />
μπροστά τους έναν ελέφαντα. Ο ελέφαντας με το που βλέπει τα παιδιά<br />
τους λέει: «Εδώ και πολύ καιρό η προβοσκίδα μου έχει κοκκινίσει από τις<br />
πολλές βρομιές που έχουν μπει μέσα, οπότε θέλω να μου την καθαρίσετε,<br />
για να μπορώ να αναπνέω με την ευκολία που ανέπνεα παλιά».<br />
Τι να κάνουν τότε τα παιδιά, αναγκάστηκαν να ανοίξουν τις τσάντες<br />
τους και να βγάλουν κάτι πινέλα και μια τανάλια, για να καθαρίσουν<br />
την προβοσκίδα του ελέφαντα. Αφού τελικά την προβοσκίδα του τη<br />
γυάλισαν και ήταν πεντακάθαρη, τότε ο ελέφαντας τους είπε: «Σας<br />
ευχαριστώ πάρα πολύ! Τώρα μπορείτε να συνεχίσετε το δρόμο σας».<br />
193
Τα παιδιά στη συνέχεια, αφού είχαν σοκαριστεί και είχαν τρομάξει,<br />
προσπαθούσαν όσο πιο γρήγορα μπορούν, να βρουν το «ΔΕΝΤΡΟ ΤΗΣ<br />
ΖΩΗΣ».<br />
Την ώρα όμως που είχαν φτάσει αρκετά κοντά σ`αυτό, συναντάνε<br />
μπροστά τους ένα λαγό. Τότε ο λαγός τους λέει:<br />
«Αν θέλετε να περάσετε από μένα, θα μου φέρετε πενήντα καρότα».<br />
Τι να κάνουν τότε τα παιδιά, αναγκάστηκαν να πάνε μέσα στο<br />
δάσος και να βρούνε όσα περισσότερα δέντρα μπορούσαν, που να<br />
έχουν πάνω να φυτρώνουν δηλαδή καρότα.<br />
Αφού μαζέψανε τελικά πενήντα καρότα, τα πήγαν στο λαγό και<br />
αφού αυτός έμεινε άναυδος, τα έφαγε όλα με τέτοια χαρά, που μετά<br />
καταευχαρίστησε τα παιδιά που του τα βρήκαν και του τα φέρανε.<br />
Αφού τα παιδιά περάσανε κι από αυτό το εμπόδιο, προσπαθούσανε<br />
να περπατάνε σιγά-σιγά, έτσι ώστε να μην τα πάρει χαμπάρι κανείς<br />
και να φτάσουν επιτέλους στον προορισμό τους, που ήταν το<br />
«ΔΕΝΤΡΟ ΤΗΣ ΖΩΗΣ».<br />
Έλα όμως που τα παραμόνευε μία τίγρης και βγαίνει ξαφνικά στο<br />
δρόμο τους και τα παιδιά τρομάξανε τόσο πολύ, που κοντέψανε να<br />
κλάψουν, γιατί δεν ήθελαν να τους κάνει κακό η τίγρης.<br />
Τότε η τίγρης ζήτησε να της φέρουν τα δύο παιδιά διακόσια<br />
καναρίνια. Τα παιδιά ένιωσαν ότι δεν μπορούσαν να σκοτώσουν τόσα<br />
καναρίνια και προσπάθησαν να εξηγήσουν στην τίγρη τους λόγους:<br />
1) γιατί τα αγαπούσανε πολύ<br />
2) τα καναρίνια και γενικά τα πουλιά, είναι χαρά Θεού<br />
3) θα ήταν πολύ δύσκολο να βρουν τόσο μεγάλο αριθμό καναρινιών<br />
Η τίγρης όμως τότε τους είπε: «Αν δε μου φέρετε τα καναρίνια δεν<br />
θα σας αφήσω να περάσετε και να συνεχίσετε το δρόμο σας».<br />
Τα παιδιά λοιπόν, αναγκάστηκαν να πάνε και να βρούνε. Αφού τα<br />
βρήκαν και τα σκότωσαν, τα έδωσαν στην τίγρη και αυτή τα πήρε και<br />
τα έφαγε, μέσα σε δευτερόλεπτα! Τότε η τίγρης χόρτασε και στη<br />
συνέχεια τα παιδιά μπόρεσαν να συνεχίσουν το δρόμο τους.<br />
Μετά από πάρα πολύ ώρα, τα παιδιά έφτασαν επιτέλους στο<br />
«ΔΕΝΤΡΟ ΤΗΣ ΖΩΗΣ».<br />
Μόλις το είδαν, έμειναν με ανοιχτό το στόμα, επειδή το δέντρο<br />
αυτό ήταν γεμάτο με πανέμορφες γυναίκες. Τότε τα δύο παιδιά με τη<br />
σειρά τους, διάλεξαν τις δύο πιο όμορφες γυναίκες, οι οποίες<br />
αγάπησαν και τα παιδιά με την καρδιά τους και στη συνέχεια ήθελαν<br />
να ζήσουν την υπόλοιπη ζωή τους, μαζί με τα παιδιά.<br />
Έτσι τα παιδιά αποφάσισαν να παντρευτούν τις γυναίκες, έκαναν<br />
οικογένεια και έμειναν για πάντα μαζί.<br />
194<br />
…και έζησαν αυτοί καλά κι εμείς καλύτερα.
Ο ΠΥΡΓΟΣ<br />
ΑΝΤΡΙΑΝΝΑ ΑΝΤΩΝΟΠΟΥΛΟΥ – ΙΑΣΙΣ<br />
Μια φορά και έναν καιρό ήταν δύο παιδιά που ήθελαν να κάνουν<br />
δώρο στη μαμά τους λουλούδια, συγκεκριμένα έψαχναν για<br />
τριαντάφυλλα για τη γιορτή της. Το επόμενο πρωινό λοιπόν<br />
ξεκίνησαν πρωί, πήραν μαζί τους λίγο ψωμί και τυρί για να κάνουν<br />
μια βόλτα στο δάσος μήπως και έβρισκαν εκεί. Προχωρούσαν<br />
προχωρούσαν. Είχε μια ηλιόλουστη μέρα που βοηθούσε την βόλτα<br />
τους. Μάζευαν διάφορα λουλούδια που έβρισκαν: ανεμώνες,<br />
μαργαρίτες και άλλα, δεν έβλεπαν πουθενά τριαντάφυλλα. Ωστόσο<br />
συνέχισαν να περπατάνε ώσπου ξεχάστηκαν και βρέθηκαν σε ένα<br />
ποτάμι. Τους άρεσε πολύ και κάθισαν κάτω από ένα δένδρο δίπλα στο<br />
ποτάμι. Καθώς είχε περάσει η ώρα, πείνασαν και δίπλα εκεί στο<br />
ποτάμι που το νερό γαργαροκυλούσε κάθισαν και έφαγαν. Αφού<br />
τελείωσαν, συνέχισαν. Είχαν προχωρήσει αρκετά πια που ξαφνικά<br />
βλέπουν ένα λύκο και φοβήθηκαν. Ευτυχώς ήταν μια καλύβα εκεί και<br />
κρύφτηκαν μέχρι να φύγει. Από το παράθυρο κοίταζαν πότε θα φύγει<br />
ο λύκος για να ξαναβγούν. Μετά από λίγη ώρα ο λύκος έφυγε και<br />
συνέχισαν και βρέθηκαν σε έναν πύργο. Εκεί ήταν μια κυρία που τα<br />
προσκάλεσε μέσα να ξεκουραστούν να φάνε και να πιούνε μαζί.<br />
Ήταν πολύ καλή και ευγενική κυρία. Εν τω μεταξύ ο πύργος απ’ έξω<br />
ήταν όλος λουλούδια και πάρα πολλά κόκκινα τριαντάφυλλα…<br />
Σκέφτηκαν ότι αφού ήταν τόσο καλή γυναίκα αν της ζητούσαν μερικά<br />
θα τους τα έδινε. Κάθισαν και αφού η κυρία τους προσέφερε γλυκό<br />
και πορτοκαλάδα τα ρώτησε πως τα λένε και τι έκαναν στο δάσος. Η<br />
195
Σίσσυ και ο Θανούλης συστήθηκαν και της είπαν ότι έψαχναν για<br />
τριαντάφυλλα να τα κάνουν δώρο στη μαμά τους. Το βρήκε πολύ<br />
συγκινητικό και τους είπε ότι θα τους δώσει όσα θέλουν και αν<br />
ακόμη θέλουν από πάνω μένει ο γιος της το βασιλόπουλο να πάνε να<br />
παίξουν. Αφού έπαιξαν με το βασιλόπουλο, είχε περάσει αρκετά η<br />
ώρα, άρχισε να νυχτώνει και έπρεπε να γυρίσουν σπίτι γιατί θα τους<br />
έψαχνε η μαμά τους. Ακόμη το βασιλόπουλο τους είπε να πηγαίνουν<br />
κάθε μέρα να παίζουν. Φεύγοντας αποχαιρέτησαν το βασιλόπουλο<br />
και την κυρία που τα είχε έτοιμα τα τριαντάφυλλα και κόκκινα που<br />
τους αρέσουν και έφυγαν. Γυρνώντας, βάδιζαν γρήγορα και<br />
χαρούμενα που είχαν τα πιο όμορφα τριαντάφυλλα. Σαν έφτασαν<br />
σπίτι δε βρήκαν την μαμά τους και ανησύχησαν, βγήκαν έξω και<br />
ρωτούσαν στη γειτονιά. Πήγαν σε κάποια σπίτια αλλά δεν ήταν. Δε<br />
σταμάτησαν ωστόσο την προσπάθεια και πήγαν και στο τελευταίο<br />
σπίτι που την βρήκαν ανήσυχη εκεί. Ρωτούσε και εκείνη αν είδαν τα<br />
παιδιά τους γιατί τα έψαχνε. Μέχρι που τα είδε και γύρισαν σπίτι.<br />
Και ζήσανε αυτοί καλά και εμείς καλύτερα.<br />
196
AN<br />
Κέντρο Ημέρας ΙΑΣΙΣ<br />
Αν ήμουν άγγελος θα ήμουν ευτυχής<br />
Και αν ζούσα κάτω στη γη<br />
Θα ήμουν υγιής<br />
Αν ήμουν όλα, όλα, όλα αυτά<br />
Δε θα χα πια πρόβλημα<br />
Θα πέταγα ψηλά(ρεφρέν)<br />
Αν ήμουν ρόδο στου σπιτιού την αυλή<br />
Θα ήμουνα περήφανο πολύ<br />
Γιατί, θα με πότιζες εσύ<br />
Αν ήμουν όλα, όλα, όλα αυτά<br />
Δε θα χα πια πρόβλημα<br />
Θα πέταγα ψηλά(ρεφρέν)<br />
Αν ήμουν σύννεφο στον ουρανό<br />
Θα ταξίδευα σε κόσμο μαγικό<br />
Για να ρθω να σε βρω<br />
Αν ήμουν όλα, όλα, όλα αυτά<br />
Δε θα χα πια πρόβλημα<br />
Θα πέταγα ψηλά<br />
197
ΤΟ ΓΚΡΕΜΙΣΜΑ ΤΟΥ ΤΟΙΧΟΥ – ΜΟΝΟΛΟΓΟΣ<br />
Τα μέλη του Κέντρου Ημέρας ΙΑΣΙΣ<br />
Βλέπω έναν τοίχο να υψώνεται μπροστά μου. Μπορώ να δω το<br />
τέρμα του και προσπαθώ να το φτάσω, αλλά δεν φτάνω να πιαστώ.<br />
Προσπαθώ να βρω μικρές εγκοπές μήπως και καταφέρω να<br />
σκαρφαλώσω. Είναι μικρές και μόλις που καταφέρνω να γαντζωθώ.<br />
Μετακινώ μια πέτρα και πετάω πάνω της. Μείωσα αρκετά την<br />
διαφορά, είναι πιο κοντά το τέρμα. Σκάβω με τα νύχια μου τις εγκοπές<br />
και σχηματίζω βαθουλώματα ώστε να μπορώ να ακουμπήσω τα πόδια<br />
μου για να σκαρφαλώσω.<br />
Ένα τούβλο φεύγει από το τοίχο και δημιουργεί ένα κούφωμα. Τώρα<br />
μπορώ πιο εύκολα να φτάσω σε πιο ψηλό σημείο. Πατάω το κούφωμα<br />
και γαντζώνομαι σε πιο ψηλό σημείο. Τα νύχια μου έχουν φαγωθεί,<br />
αλλά δεν παραιτούμαι. Συνεχίζω να σχηματίζω εγκοπές. Κοντεύω να<br />
φτάσω στο τέρμα.<br />
Τα νύχια μου είναι πια ματωμένα-φτάνω στην κορυφή του τοίχου,<br />
με δύναμη στα χέρια δίνω ένα σάλτο και καταφέρνω να φτάσω στο<br />
χείλος του τοίχου. Φτάνω και κοιτάζω κάτω, πίσω από τον τοίχο<br />
βρίσκεται κάτι ανεπανάληπτο.<br />
Μια απέραντη πράσινη έκταση με λόφους και ρυάκια, μια τεράστια<br />
λίμνη με δένδρα και διάφορα περίεργα φυτά. Αρπάζομαι από τα κλαδιά<br />
ενός δένδρου και σιγά σιγά κατεβαίνω στο έδαφος. Ξεδιψάω από το<br />
καθαρό νερό του ρυακιού και προχωράω προς την λίμνη. Διάφορα<br />
ψάρια κολυμπάνε στα νερά της και λαμπιρίζουν στον ήλιο. Δροσίζομαι<br />
στα νερά της και βγαίνω να στεγνώσω. Νιώθω το ζεστό χάδι του ήλιου.<br />
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Προχωράω και λίγο λίγο το πράσινο έδαφος το διαδέχεται η χρυσή<br />
άμμος και ξαφνικά βρίσκομαι μπροστά σε μια απέραντη παραλία με<br />
βότσαλα και αμμόλοφους. Δεν είμαι μόνη μου. Υπάρχουν διάφορες<br />
μορφές. Σιγά-σιγά το φως του ήλιου χαμηλώνει και τη θέση του παίρνει<br />
ένα ολόγιομο φεγγάρι. Αναμμένες φωτιές με παρέες γύρω τους. Μπορώ<br />
να ξαπλώσω στην ζεστή ακόμα άμμο και να απολαύσω το παιχνίδισμα<br />
της σελήνης πάνω στα νερά και την ηρεμία από τον ήχο των ξύλων που<br />
τρεμοπαίζουν στον αέρα δημιουργώντας διάφορους σχηματισμούς.<br />
Ο ήχος των γέλιων και των ψιθύρων δίνουν ένα τόνο διαφορετικό<br />
σαν να μπερδεύονται με τον παφλασμό της θάλασσας.<br />
Ίσως εδώ να μπορέσω πια να ξεκουραστώ. Νιώθω τον αέρα να μου<br />
προκαλεί ρίγος και μια γλυκιά ηρεμία να με προσκαλεί στον κόσμο<br />
των ονείρων.<br />
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Η ΑΣΥΝΗΘΙΣΤΗ ΙΣΤΟΡΙΑ ΜΙΑΣ ΚΟΥΤΑΛΑΣ<br />
ιστορία που δημιουργήθηκε σταδιάκα μέσα από αυτοσχεδιάσμους,<br />
παιχνίδια και ασκήσεις δημιουργικότητας, έκφρασης και φαντασίας.<br />
Κέντρο Ημέρας ΙΑΣΙΣ<br />
Μια φορά και έναν καιρό, σε μια κουζίνα ενός αθηναϊκού σπιτιού<br />
γνώρισα μια κουτάλα, η οποία θέλησε να μοιραστεί μαζί μου την<br />
ιστορία της. Ξεκίνησε λέγοντας ότι μεγάλο μέρος της ζωής της από<br />
τη στιγμή που την κατασκεύασαν μέχρι να βρεθεί σε αυτό το σπίτι το<br />
πέρασε στο μαγαζί της γειτονιάς που πουλούσε τα ωραιότερα<br />
οικιακά σκεύη και κουζινικά.<br />
Ενότητα 1 η<br />
Στην βιτρίνα του μαγαζιού<br />
Η κουτάλα βρίσκονταν πάντα μέσα σ’ ένα κουτί μαζί μ’ ένα σετ<br />
κουταλάκια κατασκευασμένα και αυτά από το ίδιο υλικό όπως και<br />
εκείνη. Περίμενε και έκανε πολλά όνειρα ότι μια μέρα θα βρίσκονταν<br />
στη κουζίνα κάποιου μεγάλου σεφ και ότι θα τον βοηθούσε να<br />
μαγειρεύει πολλά και ωραία φαγητά. Είχε πολλές φιλοδοξίες για τον<br />
εαυτό της και γιατί να μην έχει αφού άλλωστε είχε όλες τις<br />
προδιαγραφές. Ήταν μια καταπληκτική, βαθιά κουτάλα,<br />
κατασκευασμένη από υψηλής ποιότητας ανοξείδωτο ατσάλι και με<br />
λαβή από φυσικό καουτσούκ. Πέρασε πολλά χρόνια μέσα στη σιωπή με<br />
τη προσμονή να της δοθεί κάποτε η ευκαιρία να μαγειρέψει και αυτή.<br />
Και να η ευκαιρία! Κάποια μέρα μια συμπαθητική και καλοσυνάτη<br />
γριούλα μπήκε στο μαγαζί για να αγοράσει σκεύη για την κουζίνα<br />
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της. Τα σκεύη όλα χάρηκαν «επιτέλους θα φύγουμε από εδώ μέσα»<br />
σκέφτηκαν «αλλά πιο από όλα θα διαλέξει η γιαγιά?» αναρωτήθηκαν.<br />
Ευθύς άρχισαν να κοιτούν το ένα το άλλο ανταγωνιστικά.<br />
Στολίστηκαν, γυαλίστηκαν και μπήκαν στην σειρά προκειμένου να<br />
παρουσιάσουν τα ευεργήματά τους στην γιαγιά, ο κυρ Θανάσης ευθύς<br />
έτρεξε να την εξυπηρετήσει.<br />
Γιαγιά: Ψάχνω για ένα ιδιαίτερο αξεσουάρ κουζίνας. Μια φίλη μου,<br />
σύστησε το δικό σας μαγαζί. Μου είπε πως έχετε καταπληκτικά<br />
κουζινικά με ιδιαίτερα προσόντα. Μέχρι που μου είπε ότι μιλάνε<br />
κιόλας.<br />
Κύριος Θανάσης: Α! Βέβαια! Στο μαγαζί μου έχω μόνο ξεχωριστά<br />
κουζινικά και όντως είναι αλήθεια το καθ’ ένα έχει ιδιαίτερες<br />
δυνατότητες. Ελάτε να τα γνωρίσετε και να δείτε πιο θα σας<br />
εξυπηρετήσει καλύτερα. Από εδώ, έχουμε τη κατσαρόλα μάρκας Ζιάς.<br />
Θα τη δείτε και από μόνη σας ότι είναι προικισμένη κατσαρόλα.<br />
Κατσαρόλα Ζιάς: Γεια σας! Μου αρέσει να μαγειρεύω φακές και<br />
μακαρόνια. Είμαι κολλητός φίλος με τη κυρία κουτάλα<br />
Παναγιώτα. Ταιριάζουμε, συνεργαζόμαστε καλά και φτιάχνουμε<br />
ωραία φαγητά. Ποτέ δεν έχουμε τσακωθεί. Η μόνη μας ανησυχία<br />
είναι πως δεν είμαστε και τόσο μοντέρνοι και φοβόμαστε μήπως<br />
μας αντικαταστήσετε κάποια στιγμή.<br />
Γιαγιά: Ενδιαφέρον προσωπικότητα η κατσαρόλα σας, κύριε<br />
Θανάση. Φαίνεται πολύ δυνατή. Αν και είναι χαμηλών τόνων,<br />
μπορώ να διακρίνω ότι με τη κατάλληλη ενθάρρυνση έχει πολλές<br />
δυνατότητες.<br />
Κύριος Θανάσης: Και τώρα, γιαγιά, θα ήθελα να σας δείξω τη μικρή<br />
μου, πορτοκαλί κατσαρολίτσα. Είναι το πιο όμορφο αξεσουάρ που<br />
έχω στο μαγαζί.<br />
Κατσαρολίτσα Θάλεια: Γεια σας! Είμαι μια μικρή, βολική<br />
κατσαρολίτσα, με το όνομα Θάλεια. Αν με επιλέξετε, να είστε<br />
σίγουρη ότι θα φτιάχνετε πάντα το πιο νόστιμο ρύζι και τα πιο<br />
νόστιμα ζυμαρικά. Η μόνη μου ανησυχία είναι ότι καμιά φορά<br />
φοβάμαι ότι γίνομαι λίγο γκρινιάρα. Μη φανταστείτε, τίποτα<br />
τρομερό! Να, απλά θέλω να γίνεται το φαγητό πιο γρήγορα και το<br />
άτιμο αυτό σιγοβράζει.<br />
Γιαγιά: Πω, πω! Τι χαριτωμένη κατσαρολίτσα! Είναι σίγουρα σκέτος<br />
πειρασμός να την αγοράσω… Και από εδώ, τι έχουμε…<br />
Κουζίνα: Γεια σας! Είμαι μια κουζίνα και είμαι πάντα αναμμένη. Τα<br />
κουμπιά μου ρυθμίζουν πάντα τη κατάλληλη θερμοκρασία για σας.<br />
Πάρτε εμένα! Είμαι πολύ καιρό κλεισμένη και θέλω να βγω έξω.<br />
Κάντε οι υπόλοιποι στην άκρη!<br />
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Γιαγιά: Έντονη προσωπικότητα η κουζίνα σας, κύριε Θανάση. Με<br />
ενδιαφέρει να τη δω να συνεργάζεται και με άλλα κουζινικά. Είμαι<br />
περίεργη να δω πως θα τα πήγαινε.<br />
Κύριος Θανάσης: Είναι λίγο ατίθαση η κουζίνα μας. Βλέπετε, έχει<br />
πολύ ενέργεια και δεν έχει βρει ακόμα κατάλληλους τρόπους να τη<br />
διοχετεύσει. Ελπίζει ότι θα της δοθεί η ευκαιρία να έρθει στη<br />
κουζίνα σας.<br />
Γιαγιά: Θα δούμε… Ποιος άλλος ακολουθεί;<br />
Κατσαρόλα Καλλιοπίτσα: Α! Γεια σας! Είμαι μια ασημένια<br />
κατσαρόλα. Το όνομα μου είναι Καλλιοπίτσα. Το προσόν μου είναι<br />
ότι είμαι πολύ ήσυχη, συνεργάσιμη, καθαρή και επιβάλλω τη τάξη<br />
και την ησυχία στη κουζίνα.<br />
Γιαγιά: Ενδιαφέρον! Είναι σίγουρα πολύ χρήσιμο να έχω μια<br />
κατσαρόλα με τέτοια προσόντα στη κουζίνα μου.<br />
Κύριος Θανάσης: Πράγματι! Είμαι σίγουρος για αυτή τη κατσαρόλα.<br />
Είναι μια ήρεμη δύναμη και μπορεί να φέρει την ισορροπία σε μια<br />
κουζίνα.<br />
Γιαγιά: Έχετε δίκιο. Ο επόμενος;<br />
Ταψί Νικήτα: Γεια σας! Είμαι το δυναμικό ταψί και το όνομα μου είναι<br />
Νικήτα. Αντέχω στη πολύ δουλειά, στις υψηλές θερμοκρασίες και στο<br />
σκληρό πλύσιμο. Τα καταφέρνω καλά σε οποιοδήποτε φαγητό αλλά<br />
και γλυκό. Μπορώ να ψήσω μουσακά, παστίτσιο, πίτες, γιουβέτσι,<br />
μπακλαβά, γαλακτομπούρεκο, ψάρι, σουφλέ, κατσικάκι..<br />
Γιαγιά: Σιγά, σιγά… Πω, πω… Να, ένα κουζινικό με πολύ<br />
αυτοπεποίθηση! Και, ποιον έχουμε εδώ;<br />
Μαχαίρι: Γεια σας! Είμαι το μαχαίρι. Έχω κοφτερές ιδέες, είμαι<br />
πάντα κινητικό, πολύ χαρούμενο και πρόθυμο να κάνω πιο εύκολη<br />
τη δουλειά των άλλων. Σας προειδοποιώ όμως μπορώ να γίνω και<br />
επικίνδυνος.<br />
Γιαγιά: Τι εννοείς, επικίνδυνος; Υπάρχει περίπτωση να κινδυνέψω<br />
εγώ ή το εγγονάκι μου καθώς σε χρησιμοποιούμε;<br />
Μαχαίρι: Χρειάζεται επιδεξιότητα όταν με χρησιμοποιείτε αλλά να<br />
είστε σίγουρη έχω πάντα το νου μου και προσέχω για να μην γίνει<br />
ποτέ κανένα ατύχημα.<br />
Γιαγιά: Μάλιστα. Ο επόμενος;<br />
Τσελεμεντές: Γεια σου, γιαγιά! Ελπίζω να επιλέξεις εμένα! Είμαι ο<br />
τσελεμεντές της Αργυρώς Μπαρμπαρίτσας. Είμαι ένα καταπληκτικό<br />
βιβλίο με συνταγές από διάφορα γλυκά και φαγητά. Σπεσιαλιτέ μου<br />
είναι η χωριάτικη σαλάτα με ξύδι μπαλσάμικο, κάπαρη και ρίγανη.<br />
Γιαγιά: Όντως, θα με βοηθούσε ένα βιβλίο μαγειρικής. Να φτιάξω<br />
και κάτι διαφορετικό στο εγγονάκι μου εκτός από φακές και<br />
φασολάδα. Θα το σκεφτώ… Και δίπλα σου, ποιος είναι;<br />
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Καραβανάκι Αστεράτη: Γεια σου γιαγιούλα! Είμαι ένα καραβανάκι<br />
με το όνομα Αστεράτη. Βγαίνω σε δύο χρώματα και ειδικεύομαι στα<br />
βραστά αυγά. Μάλιστα!<br />
Γιαγιά: Νάζι και τσαχπινιά βλέπω σ’ αυτό το κουζινικό. Θα έδινε<br />
ένα τόνο σπιρτάδα και ενέργειας στη κουζίνα μου… Μάλιστα.<br />
Κύριε Θανάση μου, είναι πραγματικά μοναδικά κουζινικά. Το καθ’<br />
ένα έχει μια ξεχωριστή προσωπικότητα με ιδιαίτερα προσόντα και<br />
πολλές δυνατότητες εξέλιξης. Είμαι σίγουρη ότι όλα θα τα<br />
κατάφερναν στη κουζίνα μου.<br />
Η γριούλα ζαλίστηκε από τα πολλά μαγειρικά σκεύη και δεν ήξερε<br />
πιο να διαλέξει.<br />
Γιαγιά: Δυστυχώς όμως, δεν έχω τόσα χρήματα για να τα αγοράσω<br />
όλα όσα θα ήθελα, επισήμανε.<br />
Ξαφνικά στο βάθος του μαγαζιού ξεχώρισε την κουτάλα. H γιαγιά<br />
σκέφτηκε πως αυτή η κουτάλα που είναι σετ με κουταλάκια είναι<br />
αυτό ακριβώς που χρειάζεται περισσότερο… και έτσι χωρίς δεύτερη<br />
σκέψη την αγόρασε…<br />
Κύριος Θανάσης: Μα αυτό δεν βγήκε καθόλου να παρουσιαστεί,<br />
πως και το επιλέγετε; Απόρησε ο κυρ Θανάσης<br />
Γιαγιά: Μα, είναι μια βαθιά κουτάλα με όλες τις προδιαγραφές…<br />
αφήστε που πάει φίνα και με αυτά τα χαριτωμένα κουταλάκια.<br />
Κουταλάκια: «Επιτέλους, τα καταφέραμε!», αναφωνούσαν<br />
χαρούμενα τα κουταλάκια. «Θα βρεθούμε σε κουζίνα!».<br />
Ενότητα 2 η<br />
Στην κουζίνα της γιαγιάς<br />
Έτσι η κουτάλα έφυγε μαζί με τα κουταλάκια χαρούμενη για την<br />
κουζίνα της γιαγιάς. Εκεί συνάντησε ένα σωρό άλλα μαγειρικά<br />
σκεύη που την περικύκλωσαν και την υποδέχτηκαν με χαρά.<br />
Θα σου μάθουμε πως να κάνεις φασολάδα, και φακές!<br />
Θα πλενόμαστε όλοι μαζί στον νεροχύτη… είναι πολύ ωραία!<br />
Περνάμε ωραία εμείς εδώ, μαγειρεύουμε όμορφα!<br />
Πολύ χαιρόμαστε που ήρθες!<br />
Η κουτάλα μεμιάς απογοητεύτηκε. «Μα, εδώ κατοικούν μόνο άξεστα<br />
και κακής ποιότητας μαχαιροπίρουνα, το μόνο που ξέρουν είναι να<br />
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ανακατεύουν φακές άντε και καμιά καμιά φασολάδα της γιαγιάς. Εγώ<br />
δεν κατασκευάστηκα για να φτιάχνω φακές και φασολάδες αλλά για να<br />
ανακατεύω gourmet σούπες». ξέσπασε… μάταια τα κουταλάκια<br />
προσπάθησαν να την συνεφέρουν, εκείνη δεν άκουγε κανέναν. Τώρα,<br />
πολλά συναισθήματα πλημμύρισαν τη καρδιά της, αμέτρητες σκέψεις<br />
ξεπηδούσαν από το μυαλό της και χωρίς να το καταλαβαίνει άρχισε να<br />
μην νιώθει καλά. «τι θέλω εγώ εδώ με αυτά τα παλιατζούρικα<br />
μαχαιροπίρουνα?» και τους κοίταξε όλους υποτιμητικά. «καλύτερα να<br />
πάω να κλειστώ σε εκείνο το συρτάρι να βρω την ησυχία μου» σκέφτηκε.<br />
Ενότητα 3 η<br />
Στο συρτάρι<br />
Έτσι και έκανε… Πήγε και κρύφτηκε στην πιο σκοτεινή πλευρά του<br />
συρταριού, δεν ήθελε να βλέπει κανέναν, ούτε κάν τα κουταλάκια<br />
από το μαγαζί. Εκεί έμεινε πολύ καιρό, μόνη, με την σιγουριά πως<br />
έκανε το καλύτερο για τον εαυτό της… εκεί στα σκοτεινά σκέψεις<br />
μύριες στριφογυρνούσαν στο μυαλό της.<br />
Θα μείνω εδώ μέσα, είναι καλύτερα από έξω<br />
Εγώ έχω όνειρα δεν θα χαραμιστώ με αυτούς<br />
Τα άλλα μαχαιροπίρουνα με ζηλεύουν<br />
Όλοι θέλουν το κακό μου<br />
Κανείς δεν με θέλει, με κοιτούν όλοι περίεργα<br />
Καλύτερα, να μην μιλάω σε κανέναν απ’ αυτούς εδώ.<br />
Κάποιο κακό ετοιμάζονται να μου κάνουν, το νιώθω.<br />
Σταδιακά όμως αρχισε να νιώθει σ’ όλη την ατσαλένια της ύπαρξη<br />
μια ένταση, μια αγωνία, ένα τεράστιο φόβο. Ξεθώριαζε έχανε την<br />
γυαλάδα και την ομορφιά της, δεν μπορούσε να καταλάβει τι της<br />
συνέβαινε. Μέχρι που έγινε άκαμπτη, άχρωμη δεν μπορούσε ούτε καν<br />
να κινηθεί. Δεν αναγνώριζε τον εαυτό της. Τα υπόλοιπα<br />
μαχαιροπίρουνα δεν τη πλησίαζαν, ήταν για όλους η παράξενη<br />
κουτάλα. Δυσκολευόταν όλοι να την καταλάβουν και να νιώσουν τις<br />
αγωνίες της. Το μόνο λοιπόν, που της είχε μείνει για συντροφιά ήταν<br />
το τραγούδι της. Καθόταν με τις ώρες και τραγουδούσε ένα τραγούδι,<br />
παράξενο και αλλόκοτο που κανείς δεν καταλάβαινε ούτε καν η ίδια…<br />
«Λα λα λα πα ρα τα τα… λαλα τα πα ρα τα τα τατατα… πέρασαν<br />
μέρες νύχτες μπορεί και χρόνια τραγουδώντας τον ίδιο σκοπό μέσα<br />
στην γωνιά του συρταριού της… λα λα λα πα ρα τα τα… τα πα ρα τα<br />
τα τατατα… λα λα λα πα ρα τα τα… λαλα τα πα ρα τα τα τατατα…».<br />
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Ενότητα 4 η<br />
O ερχομός του μαχαιριού<br />
Όμως, μια μέρα κάτι άλλαξε. Ένα μαχαίρι άκουσε το τραγούδι της<br />
και ξεκίνησε να τραγουδά όπως και εκείνη, με τους ίδιους<br />
παράξενους ήχους, με τα ίδια ακαταλαβίστικα λόγια. Για τη<br />
κουτάλα, η κίνηση αυτή ήταν μεγάλη συμπαράσταση και ανακούφιση.<br />
Το μαχαίρι έδειξε αληθινό και σταθερό ενδιαφέρον για τη κουτάλα<br />
και εκείνη άρχισε να το εμπιστεύεται και να μοιράζεται μαζί του<br />
κάποιες από τις αγωνίες και τις σκέψεις της. Η κουτάλα μετά από<br />
πολύ καιρό ένιωσε μια ανεξήγητη ελπίδα, δεν ήταν πλέον μόνη μέσα<br />
στο άδειο συρτάρι, αλλά είχε και ένα μαχαίρι για συντροφιά.<br />
Τότε ήρθαν και άλλα μαχαιροπίρουνα να της συμπαρασταθούν…<br />
άρχισε και πάλι να βρίσκει το χρώμα και την λάμψη της, θυμύθηκε<br />
πάλι τα κουταλάκια που χε χάσει, πόσο της είχαν λείψει… θυμήθηκε<br />
την ζωή της στο μικρό γωνιακό μαγαζάκι που έζησε… δάκρυα<br />
κύλυσαν στα μάτια της…<br />
Ήμουν ανόητη, είπε η κουτάλα, είχα μεγάλη ιδέα για τον εαυτό<br />
μου… Νόμιζα πως όλοι θέλουν το κακό μου και δεν μπόρεσα ποτέ να<br />
πλησιάσω τους άλλους, κοίτα με κατάντησα τόσο δυστυχισμένη…<br />
Όλα μπορούν να διορθωθούν, υπάρχει ζωή και έξω από το συρτάρι,<br />
την καθησύχασε το μαχαίρι… «κοίτα» της είπε δείχνοντάς της έξω<br />
από το συρτάρι «είναι η κουζίνα που πάντα ονειρευόσουν», «ήρθε η<br />
ώρα να αποδείξεις τι μπορείς να κάνεις!».<br />
… Προσπάθησε το μαχαίρι να ανοίξει το συρτάρι για να μπορέσει<br />
η κουτάλα να βγει, όμως δεν τα κατάφερε και αποφάσισαν τότε μαζί<br />
με τη κουτάλα πως θα πρέπει να κάνει και η ίδια μια προσπάθεια να<br />
βγει… η κουτάλα φοβήθηκε αρκετά στην αρχή αλλά με την εμψύχωση<br />
του μαχαιριού και των υπολοίπων έκανε ένα μεγάλο άλμα και<br />
βρέθηκε έξω από το συρτάρι…<br />
Ενότητα 5 η<br />
Η ζωή έξω από το συρτάρι…<br />
Ήταν ένα άλμα συγκλονιστικό, απερίγραπτο κατευθείαν μπροστά<br />
στα πόδια της γιαγιάς. Η γιαγιά σάστισε αρχικά, αλλά έπειτα η χαρά<br />
της ήταν μεγάλη, είχε ξεχάσει τελειώς πως την είχε αγοράσει. «α! η<br />
αγαπημεένη μου κουτάλα και νόμιζα πως σε είχα χάσει!, που ήσουν<br />
καλη μου κρυμμένη τόσο καιρό?». Την πήρε τότε γρήγορα στα χέρια<br />
της και τη χρησιμοποίησε στο ανακάτεμα της φασολάδας. Ηταν μια<br />
ζεστή, μυρωδάτη και νοστιμότατη φασολάδα, η κουτάλα ενιωσε τόσο<br />
205
όμορφα καθώς βυθίστηκε στα μπαχαρικά της… «είναι όμορφα να<br />
μοιράζεσαι εμπειρίες με τους άλλους, να συνεργάζεσαι έτσι ώστε να<br />
φτιάχνονται ωραία και νόστιμα φαγητά» είπε ενθουσιασμένη<br />
«θέλετε να σας μάθω να φτιάχνεται και γκουρμέτ σούπες?»<br />
αναφώνησε χαρούμενα καθώς ανακάτευε την πεντανόστιμη<br />
φασολάδα της γιαγιάς… «ναιιιι» αναφώνησαν τα υπόλοιπα σκέυη,<br />
καλωσορίζοντάς την και πάλι στην κουζίνα. Τα εγγονάκια της<br />
γιαγιάς όμως είχαν κιόλας καταφτάσει πεινασμένα… «τι καλό μας<br />
έχεις ετοιμάσει γιαγιά??» είπαν και έβαλαν την κουτάλα και τα άλλα<br />
σκεύη στο νεροχύτη για πλύσιμο… το νερό της βρύσης έτρεχε<br />
άφθονο… η κουτάλα για πρώτη φορά πλατσούρισε και έπαιξε με τους<br />
φίλους της στον νεροχύτη νιώθωντας ήρεμη, χρήσιμη και<br />
ευτυχισμένη… δεν ήθελε ποτέ πια να μείνει ξανά μόνη.<br />
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Η ΑΝΑΖΗΤΗΣΗ ΤΗΣ ΕΛΠΙΔΑΣ<br />
Αντριάννα Αντωνοπούλου – Κέντρο Ημέρας ΙΑΣΙΣ<br />
Έχετε δει ποτέ παιδάκια πέντε, έξι, οχτώ χρονών να<br />
μαλλιοτραβιούνται πεσμένα στα χώματα για μια χούφτα αλεύρι? Μια<br />
χούφτα αλεύρι… Κι όμως με αυτή τη χούφτα, λίγο νερό και αλάτι θα<br />
έπλαθε η μάνα πέντε – έξι πιτούλες και θα ξεγέλαγε την πείνα της<br />
οικογένειας. Αν μάλιστα είχε περισσέψει και κάτι από το σχεδόν<br />
πάντα άδειο τραπέζι, τότε η χαρά θα ήταν διπλή, γιατί μ’αυτό το<br />
περίσσευμα θα γιόμιζε τα πιτάκια, που θα φάνταζαν τεράστια στα<br />
μάτια των παιδιών, όσο τεράστια ήταν και η πείνα στα στομάχια τους.<br />
Σκληρά εκείνα τα χρόνια στο ξερονήσι που γεννήθηκαν. Η<br />
Μαρίτσα ήταν λίγο μεγαλύτερη και είχε τη φροντίδα των υπόλοιπων<br />
παιδιών πήγαινε σχολείο και διάβαζε πολύ παρόλο τις φροντίδες και<br />
τις δουλείες που έκανε.<br />
Σα μεγάλωσε κάπως, αποφάσισε να έρθει στην Αθήνα.<br />
Αν και κουρασμένη από νεαρή ηλικία έπρεπε να βρει κάπου να<br />
δουλέψει για να ζήσει, έτσι λοιπόν της σύστησαν ένα σπίτι.<br />
Την επόμενη το πρωί πήγε αμέσως, δεν είχε άλλη επιλογή. Σα<br />
χτύπησε τη πόρτα της άνοιξε μια κυρία, όχι και τόσο συμπαθητική,<br />
της είπε να περάσει…<br />
Τι ρώτησε τι ξέρει να κάνει και συμφώνησαν να τη βοηθάει με τις<br />
δουλείες του σπιτιού. Δέχτηκε παρόλο τη κούραση και τη ταλαιπωρία<br />
και άρχισε από εκείνη τη στιγμή. Έβαλε μια ποδιά για να<br />
προστατεύσει και τα ρούχα της, γιατί δεν είχε άλλα. Ένιωσε σα<br />
μεγάλη από τη κούραση, αλλά δε σταματούσε!<br />
207
Η κυρία, δε φαίνεται να τη συμπάθησε και της φερόταν άσχημα, τη<br />
κούραζε περισσότερο, δεν την άφηνε να καθίσει καθόλου.<br />
Σαν σιδέρωνε μια μέρα, μπήκε ο γιός της στο δωμάτιο τη<br />
γλυκοκοίταζε και της έκανε διάφορες ερωτήσεις. Τον συμπάθησε<br />
κάπως, ερχόταν κάθε μέρα, από τη μέρα που την γνώρισε.<br />
Είχε δουλειές έξω και έλλειπε τον περισσότερο καιρό, αλλά με την<br />
εμφάνισή της Μαρίτσας ήταν πιο τακτικός στο σπίτι. Ο Θανάσης της<br />
έκανε πρόσκληση, το βράδυ θα είχαν γλέντι στο σπίτι ενός φίλου του,<br />
αν ήθελε να πάει, έτσι και έγινε. Η Μαρίτσα ετοιμάστηκε, είχε άλλο<br />
ένα φόρεμα για να αλλάξει, κάπως καλύτερο.<br />
Συναντήθηκαν σ’ένα όμορφο σπίτι με πολλά λουλούδια. Κάθισαν<br />
σε μια γωνία αφού πήραν κάτι να φάνε από το πλούσιο μπούφε. Η<br />
Μαρίτσα δε πίστευε στα μάτια της από τα πολλά φαγητά… Πήραν και<br />
ένα ποτό και άρχισαν να συζητάνε, ένιωθε να σέρνεται από τη<br />
κούραση αλλά προσπαθούσε να το ξεχάσει μέσα στη φασαρία και τη<br />
ωραία μουσική. Ο Θανάσης επίσης έδειχνε να χαίρεται, όχι τόσο από<br />
τον κόσμο που τους γνώριζε αλλά από τη Μαρίτσα. Της έλεγε ότι<br />
ήταν φοβισμένος τόσο από τη κοινωνία στην οποία ζούσε, που δεν<br />
πήγαιναν καθόλου τα πράγματα καλά, φοβόταν το πούλημα της<br />
χώρας του, τα πουλούσαν σε ξένους και φοβόταν τη μάνα του μη<br />
διώξει τη Μαρίτσα που είχε αρχίσει να τη συμπαθεί.<br />
Η κοπέλα άρχισε και αυτή να ανησυχεί με τη σειρά της. Για τη<br />
δουλεία της περισσότερο γιατί μαζί με όλα τ’άλλα, η ανεργία είχε<br />
αρχίσει από καιρό να είναι σε έξαρση. Ωστόσο σκέφτηκε κάτι θα<br />
ρωτούσε τη θεία της, η οποία έμενε Αθήνα, κάτι θα ήξερε γιατί αυτή,<br />
σε αντίθεση με τη Μαρίτσα η θεία ήξερε πολύ κόσμο.<br />
Μετά από λίγο έφυγαν γιατί η κούραση και ο φόβος τους είχε<br />
χαλάσει εντελώς τη διάθεση. Έξω είχε πολύ ωραία βραδιά, το<br />
φεγγάρι φώτιζε το δρόμο. Αφού χαιρετήθηκαν είπαν πότε να<br />
ξανασυναντηθούν.<br />
Την επόμενη που γύρισε από τη δουλεία της ρώτησε την θεία της<br />
αν ήξερε κάποια άλλη δουλεία διότι φοβόταν μήπως την έδιωχναν.<br />
Ευτυχώς η θεία της ήξερε ένα μαγαζί στο κέντρο της πόλης που<br />
ζητούσε μια κοπέλα. Σκέφτηκε να πάει αύριο να ρωτήσει για τη<br />
δουλειά, και έτσι έκανε.<br />
Στο δρόμο που πήγαινε τη σταμάτησε ένας νεαρός πολύ όμορφος<br />
και ευγενικός, της χαμογέλασε, τη ρώτησε αν έχει χρόνο για ένα καφέ<br />
και αυτή του ανταποκρίθηκε με ένα γλυκό χαμόγελο γιατί της άρεσε<br />
και δεν ήθελε να τον αφήσει από τα μάτια της. Ευτυχώς το μαγαζί<br />
που πήγαινε ήταν δίπλα στη δουλειά,πετάχτηκε έτσι για λίγο και του<br />
είπε να περιμένει. Μπήκε και ρώτησε, κάθισε για λίγο διότι<br />
ανησυχούσε μη φύγει ο Αλέξανδρος που περίμενε από κάτω.<br />
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Ο κύριος που είχε το μαγαζί με τα ρούχα, της είπε να περάσει την<br />
επόμενη για δουλεία.<br />
Μαζί με τον Αλέξανδρο πήγαν σε ένα όμορφο καφενεδάκι που<br />
βρισκόταν εκεί. Άρχισε πρώτα να μιλάει αφού παρήγγειλαν καφέ,<br />
είχε χαρεί πολύ με τη γνωριμία της. Δούλευε σε μία εταιρεία, όπου<br />
ήταν λογιστής. Ήταν αισιόδοξος ένιωθε πολύ χαρούμενος, είχε<br />
ενθουσιαστεί από την παρέα του, που μιλούσε και τη ρωτούσε γι αυτή<br />
για να μάθει τα δικά της. Προς μεγάλη της έκπληξη της είπε ακόμη<br />
αν θέλει να δουλέψει στην εταιρία που δούλευε, διότι ήθελαν μια<br />
κοπέλα στο λογιστήριο για βοηθό. Χάρηκε πάρα πολύ, μέχρι που<br />
συμφώνησε ξεχνώντας το μαγαζί που είχε πάει προηγουμένως.<br />
Ο Αλέξανδρος είχε θετική άποψη για τη κοινωνία και ας ήταν<br />
χάλια τα πράγματα, η πίστη του στο θεό του έλεγε θα φτιάξουν σιγά<br />
σιγά τα πράγματα και δεν έχανε την ελπίδα του. Όλο γελούσε και τη<br />
ρωτούσε πότε θα την ξαναδεί. Κανόνισαν το απόγευμα να πάνε στην<br />
εταιρία να της δείξει τη δουλεία.<br />
Ο Θανάσης της έπαιρνε συχνά τηλέφωνο και μιλούσαν, είχαν γίνει<br />
φίλοι.<br />
Με τον Αλέξανδρο βρισκόταν συνέχεια και στη δουλεία και<br />
έβγαιναν συνέχεια για φαγητό, θέατρο και κινηματογράφο.<br />
Ο Αλέξανδρος τη γέμιζε με τόση χαρά που είχε ξεχάσει τη κούραση<br />
των παιδικών της χρόνων.<br />
Συζητούσαν για νέα ταξίδια και αφού η Μαρίτσα δεν είχε πάει και<br />
πουθενά σχεδόν, τα έβρισκε ενδιαφέροντα και είχε αρχίσει να τον<br />
ερωτεύεται, ώσπου μια μέρα που ήταν για φαγητό σ’ένα πολυτελές<br />
εστιατόριο, αφού έφαγαν και έπιναν το κρασί τους, της είπε για τον<br />
έρωτα του και ότι ήθελε να την παντρευτεί. Και αυτή ήθελε πολύ να<br />
παντρευτούν, αλλά δεν του απάντησε αμέσως.<br />
Έτσι μετά από λίγο καιρό έγινε ο γάμος. Αφού ο Αλέξανδρος ήταν<br />
και από πλούσια οικογένεια και έτσι τη βοήθησαν στις ετοιμασίες<br />
και έγινε ένας υπέροχος γάμος και ζήσανε ευτυχισμένοι.<br />
209
Ήρωες του έργου<br />
ΤΑ ΠΑΙΧΝΙΔΙΑ ΤΗΣ ΖΩΗΣ<br />
Αντιγόνη: εργάζεται ως γιατρός με ειδίκευση στη δυσκοιλιότητα<br />
και είναι η μικρότερη αδελφή της Βιολέτας.<br />
Βιολέτα: εργάζεται σε ανθοπωλείο και της αρέσει πολύ η δουλειά<br />
της. Μάλιστα έχει βάλει ειδικό σύστημα ήχου για να ακούν μουσική<br />
τα λουλούδια της.<br />
Δημήτρης: εργάζεται ως αγρότης και έρχεται στην Αθήνα με στόχο<br />
μια καλύτερη ζωή.<br />
Οδυσσέας: εργάζεται ως ηλεκτρονικός και είναι πολύ καλός φίλος<br />
του Κώστα.<br />
Παρασκευάς: εργάζεται ως οικοδόμος και έχει ένα αδελφό που έχει<br />
να τον δει είκοσι ολόκληρα χρόνια.<br />
Μαρία: έχει δικό της βενζινάδικο και εργάζεται μαζί με τον<br />
αρραβωνιαστικό της.<br />
Χρήστος: είναι εφοπλιστής, έζησε πολλά χρόνια στο Κάιρο και<br />
τώρα επέστρεψε στην πατρίδα του την Ελλάδα.<br />
Χρυσαυγή: είναι νοικοκυρά και θεία της Ασπασίας.<br />
Ασπασία: εργάζεται ως δασκάλα. Έφυγε από τα Καλάβρυτα όπου<br />
έμενε με μετάθεση σε σχολείο της Αθήνας.<br />
Αχιλλέας: είναι ο αρτοποιός της γειτονιάς και ο φούρνος του το<br />
σημείο συνάντησης των γειτόνων.<br />
Διονύσης: εργάζεται ως σκουπιδιάρης στην περιοχή του Περιστερίου.<br />
210
Κώστας: εργάζεται ως μηχανικός αυτοκινήτων στο βενζινάδικο που<br />
έχει με την αρραβωνιαστικιά του, Μαρία.<br />
Βρισκόμαστε στην Περιοχή του Περιστερίου. Η ώρα είναι 5 το πρωί<br />
και ο Αχιλλέας έχει ήδη βάλει τα καρβέλια να ψήνονται στον φούρνο<br />
του. Είναι πολύ χαρούμενος διότι η δουλειά πάει πολύ καλά και<br />
σκέφτεται να βάλει αγγελία στην εφημερίδα για βοηθό. Κατά τη<br />
διάρκεια της ημέρας περνάει πολύς κόσμος από το φούρνο του και<br />
ψωνίζει. Γύρω στις 10:00 μπαίνει στο φούρνο ο φίλος του ο Δημήτρης<br />
τον οποίο έχει να δει από τότε που χε κάνει διακοπές στη Λευκάδα. Ο<br />
Δημήτρης του εξηγεί ότι αποφάσισε να αφήσει την Λευκάδα και το<br />
χωριό του για να έρθει στην Αθήνα βρει μια δουλειά για να μπορέσει να<br />
συντηρήσει την οικογένεια του. Τότε ο Δημήτρης ρωτάει τον φίλο του<br />
εάν γνωρίζει κάποιον που να ζητάνε εργατικά χέρια. Τότε ο Αχιλλέας<br />
του προτείνει να συνεργαστούν στο φούρνο του καθώς χρειάζεται<br />
βοήθεια. Ο Δημήτρης συμφωνεί με μεγάλη χαρά και αμέσως πιάνει<br />
δουλειά. Μια ώρα μετά ο Αχιλλέας λέει στον Δημήτρη ότι θα πάει να<br />
πληρώσει τους λογαριασμούς του στο ταχυδρομείο και θα μείνει λίγο<br />
μόνος του. Ο Δημήτρης δεν ανησυχεί, η δουλειά είναι απαιτητική αλλά<br />
του αρέσει. Λίγα λεπτά μετά μπαίνει στο φούρνο η Κυρία Αντιγόνη που<br />
για πρώτη φορά βλέπει τον Δημήτρη. Του κάνει διάφορες ερωτήσεις για<br />
να μάθει λίγα πράγματα για τον νέο της γείτονα.<br />
Λίγα μέτρα πιο κάτω, πάνω κάτω την ίδια ώρα, στο βενζινάδικο του<br />
Κώστα και της Μαρίας εμφανίζεται μια τεράστια κούρσα μέσα στην<br />
οποία είναι ο εφοπλιστής Κόμης Χρήστος άρτι αφιχθείς από το Κάιρο.<br />
Ξαφνιασμένοι ο Κώστας και η Μαρία τρέχουν να τον εξυπηρετήσουν.<br />
Ο Κόμης κρατώντας μια διεύθυνση στο χέρι του ζητάει πληροφορίες<br />
για το πώς θα πάει στον προορισμό του. Εξηγεί στα δυο παιδιά ότι<br />
είναι Έλληνας και ότι έζησε πολλά χρόνια στο Κάιρο όπου και έκανε<br />
επιχειρήσεις και κέρδισε πολλά χρήματα. Επιπλέον τους αναφέρει ότι<br />
αποφάσισε να επιστρέψει στην Ελλάδα για να βρει τον αδελφό του<br />
Παρασκευά που έχει είκοσι χρόνια να δει και έχει χάσει τα ίχνη του.<br />
Τα δυο παιδιά συγκινούνται από την ιστορία και δέχονται με πολύ<br />
χαρά να τον βοηθήσουν.<br />
Στην πλατεία του Περιστερίου βρίσκεται το ανθοπωλείο της Βιολέτας.<br />
Η Βιολέτα είναι πολύ στεναχωρημένη διότι το μουσικό σύστημα που έχει<br />
για τα λουλούδια της χάλασε και ανησυχεί μήπως μαραθούν τα<br />
λουλούδια της. Φωνάζει λοιπόν από δίπλα τον Οδυσσέα ο οποίος είναι<br />
ηλεκτρονικός για να τη βοηθήσει. Ο Οδυσσέας σπεύδει αμέσως η δουλειά<br />
όμως που καλείται να κάνει χρειάζεται αρκετές ώρες. Παράλληλα η<br />
Βιολέτα ασχολείται με τις συνθέσεις των λουλουδιών για το στολισμό<br />
της εκκλησίας όπου θα γίνει ο γάμος του Κώστα και της Μαρίας.<br />
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Γύρω στις 12:30 ο Αχιλλέας επιστρέφει στο μαγαζί του και δηλώνει<br />
στον Δημήτρη ότι θα πρέπει να λείψει τέσσερις ημέρες στο εξωτερικό.<br />
Ο Δημήτρης του λέει να μην ανησυχεί και ότι θα φροντίσει εκείνος το<br />
μαγαζί του φίλου του. Ο Αχιλλέας τον ευχαριστεί και φεύγει για το<br />
σπίτι του να ετοιμάσει τη βαλίτσα του. Μισή ώρα αργότερα μπαίνει<br />
στον φούρνο ο Διονύσης ο οποίος έκανε το διάλειμμά του από τη<br />
δουλειά. Τη στιγμή που συζητούσαν με τον Δημήτρη μπαίνει στο<br />
μαγαζί η Ασπασία. Χαιρετάει τους δύο άνδρες και τους λέει ότι είναι η<br />
πρώτη μέρα της στην Αθήνα καθώς ήλθε με μετάθεση από τα<br />
Καλάβρυτα για να εργαστεί σε σχολείο του Περιστερίου. Παρακαλεί<br />
τους δυο άνδρες να της δείξουν που είναι στο σχολείο. Ο Διονύσης<br />
μαγεμένος από την ομορφιά της Ασπασίας προθυμοποιείται να την<br />
ξεναγήσει και να την πάει στο σχολείο. Η Ασπασία ρωτάει τον Διονύση<br />
εάν γνωρίζει κάποιο σπίτι προς ενοικίαση. Ο Διονύσης της λέει ότι ο<br />
φίλος του ο Οδυσσέας έχει ένα σπίτι που το νοικιάζει και αμέσωςτηλεφωνικώς-κανονίζει<br />
να τους κλείσει μια συνάντηση. Ο Οδυσσέας<br />
τους λέει ότι είναι στην πλατεία στο μαγαζί της Βιολέτας και αν θέλει<br />
να περάσουν από εκεί. Η Ασπασία και ο Διονύσης συμφωνούν και<br />
κατευθύνονται στο μαγαζί. Φτάνοντας εκεί βλέπουν τη Μαρία που<br />
συζητούσε με τη Βιολέτα σχετικά με το κόστος της ανθοστόλισης και<br />
τον Οδυσσέα χωμένο σε λαμπάκια και λυχνίες. Ο Διονύσης κάνει τις<br />
συστάσεις και ο Οδυσσέας με την Ασπασία συζητούν για το σπίτι μέχρι<br />
που συμφωνούν σε μια καλή τιμή. Ο Διονύσης προτείνει στην Ασπασία<br />
να πάνε το βράδυ σινεμά και εκείνη δέχεται με χαρά.<br />
Κατά τις 5 το απόγευμα η Ασπασία πηγαίνει στους θείους της<br />
Παρασκευά και Χρυσαυγή που είναι και οι μόνοι συγγενείς που έχει<br />
στην Αθήνα. Την κάλεσαν να φάνε μαζί και τις πρότειναν να διαμείνει<br />
σπίτι τους μέχρι να νοικιάσει σπίτι. Η Ασπασία τους ευχαρίστησε<br />
αλλά τους είπε πως έχει προπληρώσει για τριήμερη διαμονή στο<br />
ξενοδοχείο. Αυτό που χρειαζόταν όμως από τη θεία της ήταν να της<br />
κάνει μια επαφή με τη εξαίρετη γιατρό Αντιγόνη καθότι έχει μεγάλο<br />
πρόβλημα δυσκοιλιότητας. Η Κα Χρυσαυγή με τηλεφωνική επικοινωνία<br />
που έχει με την Αντιγόνη εξηγεί για το πρόβλημα της ανιψιάς της και<br />
της κλείνει ένα ραντεβού για τις 6:30. Η Ασπασία κάθεται με τους<br />
θείους της μέχρι τις 6:15 και κατευθύνεται προς το ιατρείο της<br />
Αντιγόνης που βρίσκεται ένα στενό πιο κάτω. Η Ασπασία μπαίνει στο<br />
ιατρείο της Αντιγόνης, συζητάει με τη γιατρό για το πρόβλημά της και<br />
η γιατρός της γράφει ένα καθαρτικό. Την συμβουλεύει όμως να μιλήσει<br />
με έναν ψυχολόγο καθώς πιστεύει ότι η δυσκοιλιότητα της<br />
εμφανίστηκε λόγω στεναχώριας. Πραγματικά η Ασπασία έχει<br />
μελαγχολήσει πολύ από τότε που ήρθε στην Αθήνα καθώς δεν ήταν<br />
επιθυμία της η μετάθεση.<br />
212
Η ώρα είναι 6:30 το απόγευμα, μέσα στην τεράστια κούρσα του<br />
Κόμη Χρήστου είναι ο Κώστας και η Μαρία και όλοι μαζί πηγαίνουν<br />
προς το σπίτι του Παρασκευά. Ο Κόμης Χρήστος αισθάνεται σαν να<br />
πετά στον ουρανό και ο Κώστας με τη Μαρία αισθάνονται σαν να<br />
παίζουν σε αστυνομική ταινία. Γύρω στις 7:00 φτάνουν έξω από το<br />
σπίτι του Παρασκευά. Στην αυλή του σπιτιού η Κα Χρυσαυγή απλώνει<br />
ρούχα. Στην θέα της κούρσας ταράζεται και της πέφτει κάτω η λεκάνη<br />
με τα ρούχα. Βάζει τις φωνές και ο άντρας της βγαίνει έξω. Ο<br />
Παρασκευάς βλέποντας τον αδελφό του συγκινείται και οι δύο άντρες<br />
κλαίγοντας πέφτουν ο ένας στην αγκαλιά του άλλου. Ή Χρυσαυγή του<br />
καλεί όλους μέσα στο σπίτι να φάνε ζεστό γαλατομπούρεκο.<br />
Μια ώρα περίπου αργότερα, ο Οδυσσέας ολοκληρώνει τη δουλειά<br />
του στο ανθοπωλείο της Βιολέτας ύστερα από 8 ώρες επίπονης<br />
δουλειάς. Ζητάει λοιπόν την αμοιβή του από τη Βιολέτα, όμως εκείνη<br />
τη βρίσκει πολύ υψηλή και του ζητά να της κόψει κάτι. Ο Οδυσσέας<br />
που είναι καλόψυχος συμφωνεί και η Βιολέτα του κάνει δώρο μια<br />
γλάστρα για το σπίτι του.<br />
Γύρω στις 8 το βράδυ, ο Κώστας και η Μαρία επιστρέφουν σπίτι<br />
τους ύστερα από μια δύσκολη και γεμάτη μέρα. Η Μαρία αναλαμβάνει<br />
το μαγείρεμα και ο Κώστας το στρώσιμο του τραπεζιού.<br />
Παράλληλα η Ασπασία βρίσκεται στο ξενοδοχείο και ετοιμάζεται<br />
για την έξοδό της με τον Διονύση. Είναι ιδιαίτερα προβληματισμένη<br />
σχετικά με την αλλαγή περιβάλλοντος. Η σκέψη της είναι στα<br />
Καλάβρυτα και τους συγγενείς της. Η καρδιά της λέει να επιστρέψει<br />
στο σπίτι της, η λογική της όμως της λέει ότι στην Αθήνα θα χει μια<br />
καλύτερη ζωή. Τελικά αποφασίζει να πάει στο σινεμά και να αφήσει<br />
αυτές τις σκέψεις για αύριο. Την ίδια ώρα ο Διονύσης ετοιμάζεται μέσα<br />
στην τρελή χαρά στο σπίτι του. Είναι ενθουσιασμένος που θα βγει με<br />
την Ασπασία. Ξαφνικά όμως συνειδητοποιεί ότι δεν έχει πάνω του<br />
χρήματα. Χωρίς δεύτερη σκέψη κατεβαίνει γρήγορα τα σκαλιά, βγαίνει<br />
έξω από το σπίτι του και πάει στον φίλο του τον Οδυσσέα. Ο Οδυσσέας<br />
αν και ξαφνιάστηκε, χωρίς να το πολυσκεφτεί δίνει στο φίλο του τα<br />
χρήματα και του εύχεται να περάσει όμορφα. Ο Διονύσης τρέχει μέχρι<br />
το σινεμά όπου η Ασπασία τον περιμένει ήδη 1 λεπτό και 27<br />
δευτερόλεπτα. Η Ασπασία εκνευρισμένη το κάνει σκηνή. Ο Διονύσης<br />
όμως με τα γλυκά του λόγια την καλμάρει και πηγαίνουν στο σινεμά.<br />
Βράδιασε, η ώρα πήγε 11 η Βιολέτα και ο Δημήτρης είναι οι<br />
τελευταίοι στη γειτονιά που κλείνουν τα μαγαζιά τους και<br />
κατευθύνονται προς τα σπίτια τους. Η Ασπασία και ο Διονύσης<br />
αποχαιρετιούνται και λένε ότι θα τα πούνε αύριο. Οι ήρωες μας πάνε<br />
για ξεκούραση. Τώρα οι δρόμοι είναι έρημοι. Όλοι περιμένουν τα<br />
«παιχνίδια της» επόμενη μέρας.<br />
213
Ο ΒΥΘΟΣ<br />
ΟΜΑΔΑ ΕΠΙΜΕΛΗΤΩΝ ΑΝΗΛΙΚΩΝ<br />
Ένα παιδί σε ένα μακρινό κόσμο αποφάσισε να κάνει μια βόλτα<br />
στον πιο περίεργο βυθό! Ήταν ένας χρωματιστός βυθός με κάθε λογής<br />
θαλασσινά. Καρχαρίες, δελφίνια, χταπόδια, ψάρια και όστρακα.<br />
Καθώς κολυμπούσε βρήκε ένα ψαράκι ευτυχισμένο μέσα στο σπίτι<br />
του. Το είχε φτιάξει πολύ όμορφο! Του έπιασε λοιπόν κουβέντα.<br />
«θα συναντήσεις πολλούς φίλους μου εδώ. Αν ανέβεις λίγο πιο<br />
πάνω θα δεις τον κύριο χταπόδι και τους φίλους μου τα δελφίνια.<br />
Αλλά να προσέχεις γιατί από ότι μου είπαν ο καιρός δεν είναι πολύ<br />
καλός και περνά συχνά ένα περίεργο τεράστιο αντικείμενο που μας<br />
βρωμίζει τα σπίτια.» Είπε το ψαράκι.<br />
Ενώ το παιδί ετοιμαζόταν να φύγει του φωνάζει ξανά το ψαράκι:<br />
«Εεεε, περίμενε! Ξέχασα να σου πω ακόμα ένα κίνδυνο. Να προσέχεις<br />
πολύ τα αγκίστρια… ή κάπως έτσι. Νομίζεις πως σου δίνουν νόστιμες<br />
λιχουδιές αλλά τσουπ! Σε παίρνουν μακριά… Έτσι την πάτησε και η<br />
μαμά δέλφινα και άφησε τα παιδιά της μονά τους.<br />
Το παιδί χαμογέλασε, σαν να ήξερε για τι πράγμα ακριβώς μιλούσε<br />
το ψαράκι, το ευχαρίστησε και έφυγε… Όντως το αγοράκι τα είδε όλα<br />
αυτά…<br />
Κάπου στο τέλος του ταξιδίου του συνάντησε τον κύριο Ξινό. Έτσι<br />
ήταν το παρατσούκλι του. Είχε το πιο ωραίο σπίτι από όλα τα<br />
θαλασσινά, αλλά δεν έμενε μέσα ποτέ. Πάντα έκανε περιπολίες μη<br />
τυχόν πλησιάσει κάνεις. «Τι κρίμα!» σκέφτηκε το παιδί «έχει το πιο<br />
214
φανταστικό σπίτι σε όλο το βυθό αλλά δεν το χαίρεται. Και χωρίς<br />
φίλους πως μπορεί να ζει» συνέχισε τη σκέψη του.<br />
Το ταξίδι τέλειωσε και ο μικρός μας φίλος έπρεπε να γυρίσει στην<br />
οικογένεια του. Αποφάσισε να μην πει σε κανέναν για την περιπέτεια<br />
του και έτσι πριν ανοίξει την πόρτα του σπιτιού του είπε για<br />
τελευταία φόρα: «Κοίτα να δεις! Όλα ήταν τόσο διαφορετικά μεταξύ<br />
τους κι όμως όλα είχαν την ομορφιά τους! Όλα ήταν τόσο διαφορετικά<br />
μεταξύ τους κι όμως ζούσαν όλα σε εκείνο το χρωματιστό βυθό!».<br />
215
YOUTH RAP SONG I<br />
ΟΜΑΔΑ ΕΠΙΜΕΛΗΤΩΝ ΑΝΗΛΙΚΩΝ<br />
Σιχαίνομαι το θέατρο, τις Κυριακές στους δρόμους τους βρώμικους,<br />
τους άθλιους τους αλλεργιογόνους.<br />
Σιχαίνομαι τους πλουσίους στην όπερα που πάνε που τάχα<br />
κοκορεύονται, μα όλοι τους πονάνε.<br />
Σιχαίνομαι πατσά μετά από το ξενύχτι, αυτή τη μυρωδιά απ’ όλο<br />
αυτό το ξύδι.<br />
Σιχαίνομαι τους μπάτσους που τάχα μας προσέχουν και οι ρατσιστές<br />
απέναντι την χούντα αναμένουν.<br />
Ψάρια! Εγώ είμαι ο παλιός, κρατήστε βαρεμάρα εγώ την είδα αλλιώς.<br />
Γαμώ και το σχολείο και τους καθηγητάδες αυτά τα μούτρα<br />
απέναντι που ρίχνουνε παπάδες.<br />
Σιχαίνομαι το άτομο που δεν έχει να πει πετάει μία κοτσάνα και<br />
σπάει τη σιωπή.<br />
Χωρίς λεφτά, αμάξια και δουλειά, παίρνω λεωφορεία να βρω την<br />
παραλία. Κοίτα μαλακία σκατά είναι και αυτή φρόντισαν γι’ αυτό οι<br />
ασυνείδητοι.<br />
Ψέματα παντού, παντού υποκρισία μέσα στο μυαλό μου, η<br />
ακαταστασία.<br />
Τσαμπουκά πουλάς, τα τσιγάρα είναι πολλά, είσαι άντρας ή γυναίκα<br />
τελικά.<br />
216
YOUTH RAP SONG II<br />
ΟΜΑΔΑ ΕΠΙΜΕΛΗΤΩΝ ΑΝΗΛΙΚΩΝ<br />
Βρωμιά παντού ακαταστασία στους δρόμους, στα σχολειά, ακόμα<br />
και στα λεωφορεία.<br />
Με πιάνει αλλεργία με την ακαταστασία…<br />
Βαρέθηκα τα ψέματα, τις ασυναρτησίες και όλες τις άλλες<br />
μαλακίες.<br />
Έλεος πια με τις κοτσάνες που ξεστομίζουν οι πλούσιο και οι μπάμιες.<br />
Άσχημη μυρωδιά στους δρόμους, στα σπίτια,στην πλατεία,<br />
στα θέατρα, στην όπερα και τα καφενεία, εκεί που όλοι ψάχνουν<br />
σωτηρία.<br />
Ψάρια είμαστε στην ζωή και μας καθοδηγούνε σε βρώμικες παραλίες<br />
εκεί που αυτοί θέλουν να μας δούνε.<br />
Πάνε στα κανάλια και βγαίνουν στις ειδήσεις, πλούσιοι, ρατσιστές,<br />
ρεπόρτερ και αηδίες,<br />
μιλάνε ακατάπαυστα και λένε ασυναρτησίες.<br />
Βαρίεμαι αφάνταστα να ακούω ανοησίες.<br />
Όλοι ψάχνουν τον εαυτό τους, τον φίλο, τον αδερφό τους,<br />
να βρουν την ταυτότητα τους, τα ιδανικά τους.<br />
Με πιάνει αλλεργία με την ακαταστασία.<br />
217
ΘΕΣ ΝΑ ΚΑΝΟΥΜΕ ΠΑΡΕΑ… ΠΕΙΣΕ ΜΕ…!<br />
ΟΜΑΔΑ ΕΠΙΜΕΛΗΤΩΝ ΑΝΗΛΙΚΩΝ<br />
Μία παρέα πολύ δυναμική και εκλεκτική. Διαλέγει ένα ένα τα μέλη<br />
της. Η διαδικασία επιλογής σημαντική. Μέχρι και προσωπική<br />
συνέντευξη. Μέλη της επιτροπής 2 άτομα εμπιστοσύνης με ικανότητα<br />
να αποσπούν τις αναγκαίες εξηγήσεις από τους αιτούντες για τον λόγο<br />
που θα πρέπει να τους δεχτούν στην παρέα τους. Πρέπει να τους<br />
πείσουν. Να τους κάνουν να πιστέψουν ότι αξίζουν να είναι μέλη της.<br />
Οι υποψήφιοι αγχωμένοι ψάχνουν επιχειρήματα για να τα καταφέρουν.<br />
Κανένας δεν τολμά να ξεκινήσει. Ο Μανώλης δεν αντέχει… και με<br />
πονηριά περνάει το όριο και προσπαθεί να μπει στην εκλεκτή παρέα. Η<br />
επιτροπή τον επιπλήττει και του ζητάει τα επιχειρήματα του. Πονηρός<br />
όπως πάντα και έφυες άτομο ως είναι, αρχίζει να διαπραγματεύεται<br />
μαζί τους. Τους λέει για το δράμα του..θα ταξιδέψει… θα πάει<br />
διακοπές… θα τους λείψει… το ζητάει σαν χάρη… γιατί θα λείπει<br />
κανέναν μήνα… και θα τον χάσουν. Η επιτροπή δεν πείθετε!<br />
Χρησιμοποιεί όλα τα μέσα… τους τάζει δώρα!!Η επιτροπή λυγίζει! Τον<br />
δέχεται με την μία χωρίς συζήτηση και κόπο… Ο Μανώλης τυχερός, τα<br />
κατάφερε… μπήκε στην εκλεκτή παρέα!!!! Νιώθει δυνατός! Τώρα<br />
αποφασίζει και αυτός!!!! Ώρα να αρχίσει η διαπραγμάτευση λοιπόν. Οι<br />
ερωτήσεις συνεχείς προς του άλλους δύο υποψηφίους:<br />
Ανθή: Ωραία ο ένας μας δωροδόκησε! Οι άλλοι τι θα πουν;;;;<br />
Γιάννης: Για πες;; Πες;;;<br />
Λάζαρος: Τι να πω;;; Ξέρω εγώ;;; Είμαι καλό παιδί…<br />
218
Ανθή: Μας αρκεί αυτό;;<br />
Γιάννης: Ε όχι… δεν μας αρκεί!<br />
Μανώλης: Έλα πες άλλο!<br />
Λάζαρος: Τι να πω;;;<br />
Μανώλης: Εμένα δεν με καλύπτει…<br />
Ανθή: Θέλουμε κάτι πιο τρανταχτό! Τι εννοείς καλό παιδί;;;;;<br />
Λάζαρος: Θα σας το αποδείξω…<br />
Μανώλης: Έτσι που το πας δεν θα μπεις ποτέ!<br />
Λάζαρος: Θα σας αγοράσω κάτι ακριβό!<br />
Ανθή: Α! Πάλι δωροδοκία πήραμε…<br />
Μανώλης: Έτσι νευριάζω… Δεν θα μπεις ποτέ!<br />
Ανθή: ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ<br />
Λάζαρος: Τι να πω δεν ξέρω…<br />
Ανθή: Τι θα θέλαμε…<br />
Μανώλης: Μία επιταγή ενός εκατομμυρίου!!<br />
Λάζαρος: Θα την δώσω…<br />
Μανώλης: Αμάν! 2 εκατομμύρια ;;;;<br />
Γιάννης: Με 2 εκατομμύρια μπαίνετε και οι δύο σας.<br />
Λάζαρος: Θα σας τα δώσω… αν θέλετε…<br />
Ανθή: Ξέρεις μωρέ δεν θέλουμε να μας δώσεις κάτι υλικό… Κάτι να<br />
μας δώσεις αλλά… κάτι άλλο… μία ιδέα… μία συμμετοχή…μία<br />
πρόταση… για σκεφτείτε και οι άλλοι τι θέλουμε!<br />
Λάζαρος: Τι ιδέα;;;;<br />
Ανθή: Μπορούμε να του ζητήσουμε να κάνει κάτι…<br />
Αλέξης: Να του ζητήσετε να μαζέψει το πεταμένο αποτσίγαρο εκεί<br />
κάτω!<br />
Γιάννης: Εσύ μας σνομπάρεις… δεν προσπάθησες να έρθεις στην<br />
παρέα μας καθόλου… δεν έχεις πει κουβέντα τόση ώρα… τώρα σου<br />
ήρθε!<br />
Ανθή: Όχι δεν είναι η δουλειά του αυτή…<br />
Λάζαρος: Τι να κάνω…<br />
Γιάννης: Τι να κάνει;;;;;;<br />
Ανθή: Τι λέτε να τον βάλουμε να πείσει τον Αλέξη να έρθουν μαζί;;;<br />
Μανώλης: Ναι.<br />
Λάζαρος: Αν θέλει να έρθει…<br />
Μανώλης: Αν όμως πει με την μία ναι θα είναι πολύ εύκολο…<br />
Ανθή: Είναι δύσκολος ο Αλέξης … οπότε και θα είναι δύσκολο!<br />
Μανώλης: Έτσι θα περάσει και ο Αλέξης… με τη μία θα πει ναι…<br />
Ανθή: Δηλαδή ο Αλέξης είναι πονηρός, που περιμένει να του κάνουν<br />
πρόταση και δεν το προσπαθεί καθόλου! Έλα Λάζαρε… πίεσε λίγο<br />
τον Αλέξη… προσπάθησε το…<br />
Λάζαρος: Ε… αφού δεν θέλει… τι να του πω!!!<br />
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Μανώλης: Πιάσε τον λίγο από το λαιμό!<br />
Γιάννης: Ε! ειρηνικά είπαμε… μην σκοτωθείτε…<br />
Λάζαρος: Αφού δεν θέλει δεν μπορώ να τον πιέσω…<br />
Ανθή: Να σκεφτούμε… Τι κάνεις καλά;;; Να δούμε αν μας αρκεί!<br />
Λάζαρος: Τι κάνω καλά;;; Παίζω καλά μπάσκετ!<br />
Ανθή: Μπάσκετ;;<br />
Μανώλης: Δεν μου αρέσει αυτό…<br />
Γιάννης: Μπα όχι…<br />
Ανθή: Όχι ε;; Κάτι άλλο;;; Μήπως μαγειρεύεις;;;;<br />
Λάζαρος: Ναι μαγειρεύω… δούλευα σεφ.<br />
Ανθή: Αλήθεια!<br />
Λάζαρος: Δούλευα σε ένα μαγαζί! Έφτιαχνα πίτσες, κλαμπ<br />
σάντουιτς,μακαρονάδες, ομελέτες, κρέπες!<br />
Ανθή: Μήπως σας πείθει λίγο;; Εμένα έχει αρχίσει και με πείθει!<br />
Γιάννης: Κανένα γλυκό;;;<br />
Λάζαρος: Ε! κρέπες….<br />
Μανώλης: Ξέρω να φτιάχνω και εγώ κρέπες… και να μαγειρεύω<br />
ξέρω!<br />
Ανθή: Εσένα σε πήραμε στην ομάδα μας! Τι μιλάς;;<br />
Ανθή: Οπότε δεν μας πείθει;;; Εμένα πάντως έχει αρχίσει και με<br />
ψήνει…<br />
Λάζαρος: Ξέρω σαλάτες… χωριάτικες, σεφ!<br />
Ανθή: Χα, χα… Σεφ ε;;;<br />
Λάζαρος: Εγώ αυτά είχα να πω…<br />
Γιάννης: Μμμμ παίζεις μουσική;;; Ακούς μουσική;;<br />
Λάζαρος: Ακούω!<br />
Μανώλης: Τι ακούς;;;<br />
Λάζαρος: Πολλά και διάφορα!<br />
Μανώλης: Τι ακούς;;;<br />
Λάζαρος: Ε! ότι μου αρέσει…<br />
Ανθή: Ε καλά τώρα! Μας βγάζεις και επίθεση… άμυνα… σιγά μην σε<br />
δεχτούμε! Άκου ότι μου αρέσει!<br />
Λάζαρος: Ακούω ελληνικά.<br />
Μανώλης: Τρανς ακούς;;;<br />
Γιάννης: Α ναι τρανς ακούς;;;;<br />
Λάζαρος: Ε… όχι… μερικά μόνο που μου αρέσουν! Ότι μου αρέσει<br />
ακούω!<br />
Ανθή: Εγώ πάντως πολύ λίγο θέλω για να πειστώ ακόμα…<br />
Γιάννης: Και εγώ!<br />
Μανώλης: Και εγώ!<br />
Ανθή: Τίποτα άλλο;;;<br />
Λάζαρος: Ακούω και ραδιόφωνο…<br />
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Ανθή: Διαδικτυακό;;<br />
Λάζαρος: ναι!<br />
Ανθή: Παιδιά μπαίνει!!!!!<br />
Μανώλης: Έλα άντε!!! Εσύ Αλέξη;;; Τι θα πεις;;;<br />
Αλέξης: Δεν θέλω να μπω στην παρέα σας…<br />
Ανθή: Κοίτα να δεις τσαμπουκά ο μικρότερος της παρέας…!<br />
Γιάννης: Μόνος με την πάρτι του!!!<br />
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222<br />
ΚΑΛΟΚΑΙΡΙ<br />
Αντωνία Λιονάκη<br />
Καλοκαίρι, όμορφο που είσαι καλοκαίρι<br />
Ζέστη, θάλασσα, ήλιος, καλοκαίρι<br />
Μας θυμίζεις πάντα την ζωή<br />
Χελιδόνια, γλάροι και σπουργίτια<br />
Πετούν ψηλά, καλοκαίρι<br />
Από της πρώτης άνοιξης, το αγέρι ως του Σεπτέμβρη<br />
την πρώτη την βροχή, καλοκαίρι<br />
στη καρδιά μου θα σε έχω καλοκαίρι<br />
κι αν χειμώνας έρθει καλοκαίρι<br />
θα ζεσταίνεις τις καρδιές μας καλοκαίρι<br />
με τις ζεστές τις αναμνήσεις της δικής σου εποχής<br />
Ο χειμώνας ήρθε πάλι<br />
Κρύος, άσχημος, ψυχρός.<br />
Με παλτά, κασκόλ, ζακέτες<br />
Να τος μοναχός<br />
Ο ΧΕΙΜΩΝΑΣ<br />
Αντωνία Λιονάκη<br />
Αλλά να! Στο βάθος πέρα, έρχεται ο βοριάς.<br />
Μοναχός του πια δεν θα ναι ο πικρός μας ο χιονιάς!
Περιστεράκι μου καλό<br />
Περιστεράκι μου σεμνό<br />
Πέτα ψηλά στον ουρανό<br />
Πέτα σε μέρος μακρινό<br />
Όπου άνθρωπος δεν ξέρει<br />
TO ΠΕΡΙΣΤΕΡΙ<br />
Αντωνία Λιονάκη<br />
Να βρεις κοιλάδες της ψυχής<br />
Νεράκι γάργαρο να πιεις<br />
Από το δρόμο να ξεκουραστείς<br />
Να ξαποστάσεις και πάλι να απογειωθείς<br />
σε μέρη άγνωστα να φτάσεις<br />
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Ο ΉΛΙΟΣ ΒΛΈΠΕΙ ΤΗΛΕΌΡΑΣΗ<br />
ΟΜΑΔΑ MOSAIK -ΚΕΘΕΑ<br />
Ο ήλιος βλέπει τηλεόραση. Βλέπει στην οθόνη έναν άνθρωπο που<br />
δεν μιλάει και αλλάζει κανάλι, αυξάνει την ένταση της φωνής. Τώρα<br />
είναι καλύτερα, σκέφτεται. Βλέπει μία ταινία, μία ιστορική ταινία.<br />
Αλλάζει ξανά για να δει ποδόσφαιρο, μετά ειδήσεις, πόλεμο.<br />
Βαρέθηκε, κλείνει την τηλεόραση, βγαίνει έξω στην αυλή. Βλέπει τον<br />
ήλιο και κάνει ηλιοθεραπεία.<br />
Εγώ πριν ήμουν τηλεόραση, λέει η τηλεόραση, τώρα είμαι μία<br />
μεγάλη θάλασσα, στην οποία ο κόσμος κολυμπάει. Δύο ήλιοι. Ο<br />
πρώτος ήλιος ψαρεύει στη θάλασσα ο άλλος κάνει μπάνιο. Ο Μαλίκ<br />
το πνεύμα φέρνει τον αέρα.<br />
Και μαζί με τον αέρα εμφανίζεται και ένας ελέφαντας από τον<br />
ουρανό, γιατί είδε τους δύο ήλιους.<br />
Βραδιάζει, οι ήλιοι πάνε για ύπνο, ο Μαλίκ το πνεύμα πάει να<br />
ξεκουραστεί και αυτός. Οι άνθρωποι ζωγραφίζουν στην άμμο της<br />
παραλίας τη δύση του ηλίου.<br />
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ΤΑ 4 ΣΥΝΑΙΣΘΗΜΑΤΑ ΠΑΝΕ ΕΚΔΡΟΜΗ<br />
(ΧΑΡΑ, ΛΥΠΗ, ΕΥΤΥΧΙΑ ΚΑΙ ΦΟΒΟΣ)<br />
ΟΜΑΔΑ MOSAIK -ΚΕΘΕΑ<br />
Βρίσκονται στο λεωφορείο, έξω βλέπουν την φύση.<br />
Ευτυχία: είναι πολύ ωραία, τέλεια, πάμε?<br />
Φόβος: και αν βρέξει, τι θα κάνουμε, πως θα γυρίσουμε?<br />
Η Λύπη συμφωνεί.<br />
Χαρά: και τι θα γίνει θα λιώσουμε?<br />
Ε: πάμε μαζί για καφέ.<br />
Σταματάνε σε ένα μικρό καφέ.<br />
Χ: τι ωραία πράγματα που έχετε εσείς εδώ.<br />
Φ: Φοβάμαι να φάω, πως τα φτιάξανε?<br />
Λ: δεν πειράζει, πας κοινότητα… (ό,τι και να πιεις θα πας κοινότητα)<br />
Η Λύπη πίνει καφέ αλλά της λείπει το γάλα.<br />
Χ: Α, να το!<br />
Λ: τώρα είμαι μια χαρά.<br />
Ο Φόβος δεν ήπιε ούτε έφαγε τίποτα. Οι υπόλοιποι φάγανε και ήπιαν.<br />
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Ε: να πάρε χυμό<br />
Φ: μόνο αν είναι κλειστός (να φαίνεται η ημερομηνία λήξης)<br />
Λ: ληγμένο θα είναι. Θα πιω όμως εγώ.<br />
Η Χαρά και η Ευτυχία σκέφτονται να φύγουν.<br />
Ε: τι να κάνουμε, να φύγουμε? Τι θέλεις να κάνουμε για να<br />
ξεπεράσεις τον φόβο σου Φόβε?<br />
Λ: να πιω εγώ για να δεις ότι ζω και ότι δεν θα πάθεις τίποτα?<br />
Χ: να τον παρατήσουμε εδώ, να πάμε μόνοι μας… αλλά εσύ Ευτυχία<br />
δεν μπορείς να νοιώσεις ευτυχία αν δεν είμαστε όλοι μαζί…<br />
Λ: να τον αφήσουμε μόνο του<br />
Φ: μόνος μου φοβάμαι, θέλω να έρθω και εγώ μαζί σας.<br />
Όλα μαζί συνεχίζουν το δρόμο τους…<br />
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ΤΑΞΙΔΙ ΣΤΟ ΟΝΕΙΡΟ<br />
ιστορία –τραγούδι σε ρυθμούς ραπ<br />
(όλα τα μέλη της Ε.Κ.ΠΟ.ΣΠΟ- ΝΟΣΤΟΣ)<br />
Μετανάστης σημαίνει νοσταλγία, νέα ζωή<br />
ελευθερία μα και απώλεια μαζί<br />
Η ζωή είναι ένα ποτάμι που κυλάει συνεχώς<br />
Ένα ποτάμι που όλοι θέλουν, μα λίγοι έχουν δυστυχώς (ρεφρέν)<br />
Πολλοί ξεκίνησαν να βρουν την ευτυχία<br />
Μα λίγοι την συνάντησαν, χάθηκαν στην πορεία<br />
Η ζωή είναι ένα ποτάμι που κυλάει συνεχώς<br />
Ένα ποτάμι που όλοι θέλουν, μα λίγοι έχουν δυστυχώς (ρεφρέν)<br />
Ονειρεύομαι έναν κόσμο μαγικό<br />
Ένα κόσμο με αγάπη που ο χειμώνας θα χαθεί<br />
Και η άνοιξη θα λάμψει<br />
Η ζωή είναι ένα ποτάμι που κυλάει συνεχώς<br />
Ένα ποτάμι που όλοι θέλουν, μα λίγοι έχουν δυστυχώς (ρεφρέν)<br />
Ονειρεύομαι τον ήλιο τον ζεστό<br />
Να γεμίζει καρδιές ανθρώπων<br />
Έναν κόσμο δίχως πόλεμο δίχως θλίψη και πόνο<br />
227
Η ζωή είναι ένα ποτάμι που κυλάει συνεχώς<br />
… μα λίγοι έχουν δυστυχώς (ρεφρέν)<br />
Ακολούθησε το δικό σου μονοπάτι στη ζωή<br />
και ίσως βρεις το όνειρο σου… κάπου εκεί να σε καρτερεί… καλό<br />
ταξίδι…<br />
228
ΓΥΆΛΙΝΑ ΦΤΕΡΆ<br />
Δημιουργός:Φιλίνα Τασσοπούλου<br />
Η Εμμανουέλλα είναιχορεύτρια που μένει στην Αθήνα στο<br />
περιστέρι. Είναι από την<br />
Ισπανία. Είναι δυναμική, της αρέσουν τα ταξίδια. Είναι φανατική<br />
με τη δουλειά της, έχειπάθος είναι φιλόδοξη και αισιόδοξη. Έχει<br />
στόχο να γίνει γνωστή και σταρ. Αν έχει κάποιους εχθρούς αυτοί<br />
είναι οι συνάδελφοί της, δύο από τους οποίους την βλέπουν πολύ<br />
ανταγωνιστικά και στον διαγωνισμό χορού που θα γίνει, θέλουν να<br />
της πάρουν την θέση. Την ζηλεύουν και προσπαθούν με πλάγιους<br />
τρόπους να την σαμποτάρουν.<br />
Φυσικά και έχει πάντα δίπλα της τους φίλους της που την<br />
υποστηρίζουνκαι είναι ανοιχτοί απέναντι της: ο Θωμάς, η Κέλυ, ο<br />
Κώστας και η Φανή είναι μερικοί από αυτούς. Υπάρχει και ο<br />
σύντροφος τηςπου ουσιαστικά την λατρεύει, ο Φίλιππος.<br />
Το πρώτο πράγμα που προσέχει σε έναν άνθρωπο είναι η<br />
ειλικρίνεια και η αμεσότητα<br />
του χαρακτήρα του.<br />
Αυτά πράττει και η ίδια: ειλικρίνεια,τιμιότητα είναι ζωηρή έχει<br />
φαντασία είναι ζωντανή. Απεχθάνεταιτο ψέμα, την απιστία,<br />
τουςσπιτόγατουςαφού η ίδια είναι εξωστρεφής. Φοβάται τα φίδια και<br />
τις αράχνες (γι’ αυτό και συνήθως δουλεύει σε κτίρια και όχι έξω.<br />
Από μικρή την είχε δαγκώσει μια αράχνη και από τότε τις φοβάται.<br />
Με τον επαγγελματισμό της και το χιούμορ της,την εντυπωσιακή<br />
της εμφάνισηκαι την περιπετειώδεις διάθεσήτης καταφέρνει να είναι<br />
πάντα στο προσκήνιο οπού και επιθυμεί βέβαια.<br />
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Με την βοήθεια του συντρόφου τηςπροσπαθεί να ξεπεράσει την<br />
φοβία που έχει με τα αεροπλάνα γιατί ταξιδεύει συχνά αλλά κάποιες<br />
φορές απαιτείται να χρησιμοποιήσει το μέσον αυτό παρά τα τρένα και<br />
τα πλοία.<br />
Την προβληματίζει ο γιος της που είναι πέντε χρονών και αποφεύγει<br />
να τον αφήνει μόνο του, αλλά πρέπει λόγω της δουλειάς της.<br />
Θέλει να γίνει πρώτο όνομα στον χορό και να καταφέρει να<br />
κερδίσει στον διαγωνισμό που γίνεται σε λίγο καιρό στηνΑθήνα.<br />
Επειδή η μάνα της ήθελε να γίνει χορεύτρια αλλά δεν τα κατάφερε<br />
πίεζε την κόρη της, Εμμανουέλλανα γίνει διάσημη. Είχε πολλές δημόσιες<br />
σχέσεις και κατάφερε να την βάλει στο Μπροντγουειπρωταγωνίστρια.<br />
Έκανε ένα μήνα πρόβες και την ημέρα της πρεμιέρας, στην μέση της<br />
παράστασης έπεσε και γύρισε το πόδι της ανάποδα και έσπασε. Ο<br />
κόσμος τρομοκρατήθηκε. Ήρθε ένας γιατρός απ’ το κοινό και την πήγε<br />
στο νοσοκομείο για εγχείρηση επειγόντως. Στο χειρουργείο όμως τα<br />
πράγματα ήταν χειρότερα και οι γιατροί δεν μπορούσαν πλέον να<br />
κάνουν τίποτα. Θα έμενε παράλυτη για όλη της την ζωή Αυτός ήταν ο<br />
τελευταίος της χορός;<br />
H αννάρωση…<br />
Μετά από μια μεγάλη ανάρρωση 6 μηνών άρχισε να κάνει<br />
φυσιοθεραπείες στον χώρο της με έναν εκπαιδευόμενο ιατρό. 2 χρόνια<br />
μετά άρχισε να τον προσέχει και να τον βλέπει διαφορετικά. Ο<br />
Χριστόφορος δεν την βοηθούσε μόνο θεραπευτικά αλλά είχε αγγίξει<br />
την ψυχή τηςκαι της έδινε συμβουλές, κουράγιο και ελπίδα για το<br />
μέλλον. Άρχισε να την νιώθει και εκείνος παραπάνω από φίλη και<br />
έδειχνε να νοιαζόταν περισσότερο από ιατρός. Εκείνη αφέθηκε και<br />
δείχνοντάς του εμπιστοσύνη,έγιναν ζευγάρι. Η σχέση τους πέρασε<br />
από πολλές δυσκολίες, λόγω της υγείας της αλλά εκείνος καθημερινά<br />
της έδειχνε την αγάπη του και όταν παντρεύτηκαν το δώρο της σε<br />
εκείνον ήταν το θαύμα που δεν περίμενε. Μπορούσε πια να περπατάει<br />
χωρίς αυτόν.<br />
Άρχιζαν να διαμορφώνουν το σπίτι σαν σχολή χορού. Άδειασαν τα<br />
έπιπλα και έβαλαν παντού καθρέφτες και μπάρες. Της υποσχέθηκε ότι<br />
θα την βοηθήσει να χορέψει ξανά. Στην αρχή είχε αντιρρήσεις, αλλά<br />
με την αγάπη του την έπεισε. Οι πρώτοι μήνες ήταν δύσκολοι. Όσο<br />
όμως περνούσε ο καιρός η δύναμή της μεγάλωνε και οι ασκήσεις<br />
αυξάνονταν.<br />
Ο Χριστόφορος, την παρακολουθούσε με θαυμασμό και της έδινε<br />
την αγάπη του και πολύ δύναμη. Μετά από 6 μήνες έψαχναν για<br />
οντισιόν. Μαζί πήγαιναν και έκαναν αιτήσεις σε πολλά θέατρα για<br />
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πρωταγωνιστικούς ρόλους, αλλά και σε γνωστούς σκηνοθέτες για<br />
ακριβές παραγωγές. Δεν περίμεναν πολύ καιρό και ερχόντουσαν οι<br />
πρώτες απαντήσεις. Το μόνο που έπρεπε να κάνει ήταν να επιλέξει.<br />
Υπήρχε κάτι που της τράβηξε το ενδιαφέρον απ’ την αρχή: Μια<br />
παράσταση στη Βιέννη σε τρεις μήνες (αυτήν ξεχώρισε πρώτα). Το<br />
ίδιο και ο άντρας της. Ετοιμάστηκαν και πήγαν αμέσως για τις<br />
πρώτες πρόβες.<br />
Η καρδιά της χτυπούσε σαν πρωτάρα. Αλλά εκείνος ήταν σίγουρος<br />
ότι θα τα πάει καλά. Την ενθάρρυνε κάθε μέρα και την θαύμαζε ακόμα<br />
πιο πολύ.<br />
Η παράσταση έγινε με πολύ μεγάλη επιτυχία και οι προτάσεις<br />
έπεφταν βροχή για να επισκεφτούν άλλες χώρες, με όλο τον θίασο.<br />
Έτσι τα πράγματα πήραν τον δρόμο τους. Στηριζόταν πλέον στα δικά<br />
της πόδια, ήξερε τι ήθελε και πλάι της είχε πάντα τον άντρα της.<br />
Απέκτησε πολλούς φίλους και φίλες, έκανε πολλές δημόσιες σχέσεις.<br />
Το όνομά της έγινε γνωστό σε όλο τον κόσμο αλλά πλέον δεν την<br />
ενδιέφερε η δόξα. Το μόνο που της έλειπε, ήταν να ολοκληρώσει την<br />
ευτυχία της με ένα παιδί. Που ήρθε την κατάλληλη στιγμή.<br />
Ο τρισευτυχισμένος μπαμπάς με τις δίδυμες κόρες του αγόρασε ένα<br />
τεράστιο σπίτι για να στεγάσουν την οικογένεια και τον έρωτά τους.<br />
Σήμερα ζουν σε μια φάρμα και η οικογένειά τους έχει μεγαλώσει κι<br />
άλλο. Οι δυσκολίες δεν λείπουν από τη ζωή τους αλλά μαζί τα<br />
ξεπερνάνε όλα.<br />
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ΟΙ ΠΕΡΙΠΕΤΕΙΕΣ ΣΤΗΝ ΑΥΣΤΡΑΛΙΑ<br />
Δημιουργός: Tασσοπούλου Φιλίνα<br />
Η Πένυ είναι ένα κορίτσι που ζει στην Αυστραλία μαζί με τη μητέρα<br />
της και τη γιαγιά της.<br />
Της αρέσει πολύ η θάλασσα που την πηγαίνει η γιαγιά της κάθε<br />
Σαββατοκύριακο και αγαπάει πολύ τη μουσική. Τα τελευταία δύο<br />
χρόνια μαθαίνει κιθάρα.<br />
Είναι 9 χρονών αλλά τη περασμένη εβδομάδα είχε μια δυσάρεστη<br />
περιπέτεια στην παραλία.<br />
Δεν είχε πολύ κόσμο εκείνη την ημέρα και σκέφτηκε να απομακρυνθεί<br />
για να δείξει στη γιαγιά της πόσο καλή κολυμβήτρια είναι.<br />
Όμως για κακή της τύχη, ενώ κολυμπούσε πέρασε ένα καΐκι και<br />
σήκωσε ψηλά κύματα που δε μπορούσε να τα αντέξει.<br />
Δεν την παρατήρησε η γιαγιά της παρά μόνο ένας καρχαρίας που τη<br />
περιτριγυρνούσε.<br />
Αυτή άρχισε να φωνάξει και ο καρχαρίας δεν άργησε να της<br />
δαγκώσει το πόδι.<br />
Και αφού λιποθύμησε, άρχισε να βυθίζεται. Όχι όμως για πολύ γιατί<br />
μια παρέα με δύτες από το καΐκι την ανέβασαν και ειδοποίησαν<br />
αμέσως ελικόπτερο.<br />
Την ίδια στιγμή ειδοποίησαν και στην παραλία την γιαγιά της και<br />
την μετέφεραν στο καλύτερο νοσοκομείο.<br />
Κατά την εμπειρία της, οι δύτες καθησύχασαν τη γιαγιά ότι τα<br />
πράγματα δεν ήταν τρομαχτικά και δεν θα έχανε το πόδι της.<br />
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Μετά από πολλές μέρες θεραπεία και πολλά χάπια η κατάστασή της<br />
άρχισε να βελτιώνεται. Η δε μητέρα της δεν έφυγε από κοντά της<br />
καμιά μέρα. Όταν πήραν εξιτήριο έφυγαν για το σπίτι.<br />
Μία πρόσκληση την περίμενε για μια μεγάλη συναυλία όπου η Πένη<br />
θα έπαιζε μουσική.<br />
Τρελάθηκε από τη χαρά της και άρχισε αμέσως πρόβες. Αυτό της<br />
έκανε πολύ καλό και στην ανάρρωσή της.<br />
Είχε καλή διάθεση και δε παραπονιόταν σχεδόν πότε. Την ημέρα της<br />
συναυλίας το πρόσωπο της έλαμπε από χαρά και είχε μεγάλη επιτυχία.<br />
Μεταδόθηκε ζωντανά από ένα κανάλι της τηλεόρασης και στο τέλος<br />
οι συμμαθήτριές της, της έκαναν μια έκπληξη.<br />
Κάθε μία κρατούσε ένα τριαντάφυλλο.<br />
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Μία ιστορία…<br />
Η ΜΕΓΑΛΗ ΑΠΟΦΑΣΗ<br />
Δημιουργός: Tσούμα Ουρανία<br />
Ο μικρός Αντώνης ζει σ΄ένα μικρό χωριό που το χαρακτηρίζει μια<br />
μικρή λίμνη. Αυτή η μικρή λίμνη φιλοξενεί ψάρια μικρά, πέτρες μικρές<br />
που αν τις δει κανείς από μακριά στο φως της μέρας μοιάζουν με<br />
χρυσό. Ένα μικρό σπιτάκι που ανήκει σε μια μεγάλη σε ηλικία γυναίκα<br />
μόνη… όχι όμως τόσο μόνη γιατί έχει να φροντίζει ένα μεγάλο κήπο,<br />
ένα μικρό σκύλο, ένα παπαγάλο και μερικά καναρίνια.<br />
Ήρθε ο καιρός που ο Αντώνης θα πήγαινε με την οικογένειά του να<br />
ζήσει στην πόλη, γιατί ο πατέρας του βρήκε καλύτερη δουλειά και η<br />
μητέρα του δεν θα ήταν πια νοικοκυρά. Θα έπιανε την πρώτη της<br />
δουλειά σ ΄ένα εργαστήριο που έφτιαχνε πήλινα αντικείμενα.<br />
Πήγε να χαιρετήσει τη γιαγιά που πίστευε ότι του είχε αδυναμία,<br />
γιατί όποτε τον έβλεπε του έκοβε από τον κήπο της τα καλύτερα<br />
λουλούδια και του τα πρόσφερε να τα πάει σπίτι του. Ο Αντώνης δεν<br />
ήθελε να φύγει, είχε τους φίλους του στο χωριό που παίζανε στη μικρή<br />
λίμνη, είχε τα δέντρα που έφτιαχνε φωλιές για τα πουλιά και είχε κι<br />
αυτή την παράξενη γιαγιά. Παράξενη, γιατί όποτε του μιλούσε δεν<br />
μπορούσε να καταλάβει ποτέ τι εννοούσε γιατί ήταν ξένη… μιλούσε<br />
μισά ελληνικά και μισά<br />
«τι»; δεν είχε καταλάβει.<br />
234
Πέρασε ο καιρός, ο Αντώνης έκανε καινούριους φίλους στην πόλη,<br />
χωρίς όμως να ξεχνάει τους φίλους του στο χωριό και εκείνη τη<br />
γιαγιά. Έτσι, μια μέρα τους νοστάλγησε τόσο πολύ που πήρε άδεια<br />
από τους γονείς του να πάει με το θείο του να τους δει. Πήγε, είδε τους<br />
φίλους του… αν και μεγαλύτεροι τους αναγνώρισε αμέσως, ενώ<br />
τελευταία πήγε να επισκεφθεί τη γιαγιά.<br />
Μεγάλωσες, Αντώνη, του είπε η γιαγιά<br />
Δεν μπορώ να κάτσω πολύ, με περιμένει ο θείος μου στην πλατεία<br />
για να γυρίσουμε στην πόλη, της απάντησε.<br />
Τότε, αυτή του έκοψε τα καλύτερα λουλούδια από τον κήπο της,<br />
όπως συνήθιζε να κάνει όποτε τον έβλεπε και του είπε: «Σύντομα θα<br />
βρεις το σπίτι σου». Ο Αντώνης στο δρόμο σκεφτόταν συνέχεια τα<br />
λόγια της γιαγιάς… τι μπορεί να εννοούσε… είχε σπίτι, μα γιατί;<br />
Την επόμενη μέρα το σχολείο του θα πήγαινε να επισκεφθεί ένα<br />
τσίρκο που θα ήταν για λίγες μέρες στην πόλη, μετά θα έφευγαν και<br />
θα πήγαιναν σε άλλη πόλη, σε άλλη χώρα;<br />
Ο Αντώνης στην πόλη σπούδασε και έγινε αρχαιολόγος. Άρχισε να<br />
δουλεύει και του έγινε πρόταση να πάει στην Ισπανία που κάποιοι<br />
χρειάζονταν τη βοήθειά του με κάτι αρχαία αγάλματα, που βρέθηκαν<br />
σ’ ένα μικρό χωριό λίγο έξω από την πόλη που το χαρακτήριζε μια<br />
μικρή λίμνη. Ο Αντώνης πήγε αν και το μικρό χωριό με τη μικρή λίμνη<br />
τίποτα δεν του θύμιζε από τον τόπο του. Εκεί γνώρισε μια χορεύτρια,<br />
έγιναν φίλοι και τον ξενάγησε στην πόλη. Ένα βράδυ μαθαίνει από τη<br />
φίλη του ότι στην πόλη θα έρθει ένα τσίρκο φημισμένο. Θυμήθηκε το<br />
τσίρκο που είχε πάει μικρός και αποφάσισε να πάει με τη φίλη του. Το<br />
πρόγραμμα που είχε το τσίρκο ήταν ενδιαφέρον και διασκεδαστικό,<br />
όμως εντύπωση του είχε κάνει μια μπαλαρίνα που βοηθούσε έναν<br />
κλόουν στο νούμερό του. Μόλις τελείωσε το πρόγραμμα πήγε να τη<br />
γνωρίσει… του άρεσε πολύ… πραγματικά. Η μπαλαρίνα μόλις τον<br />
είδε, του είπε: «Σε περίμενα». «Μα δεν με ξέρεις», της απάντησε. «Κι<br />
όμως, η γιαγιά μου,μου έχει μιλήσει για σένα, έχεις πολλές ικανότητες<br />
που δεν τις γνωρίζεις, ακόμα. Μπορείς να δουλέψεις μαζί μου, αν το<br />
θέλεις». Του είπε πως στην πόλη θα ήταν για ακόμη τρεις μέρες, μετά<br />
θα έφευγαν. Τρεις μέρες είχε για να αποφασίσει τι θα κάνει. Η αλήθεια<br />
είναι ότι το τσίρκο του άρεσε από μικρός και σαν μεγάλος του άρεσε<br />
ακόμα περισσότερο να κάνει ταξίδια.<br />
Γύρισε στο ξενοδοχείο που έμενε και παρόλο που δεν ήταν<br />
κουρασμένος αρκετά, τον πήρε ο ύπνος αμέσως. Είδε όμως ένα<br />
παράξενο όνειρο… Ένας άντρας, ούτε ψηλός, ούτε κοντός, ούτε<br />
αδύνατος, ούτε χοντρός, αλλά μελαχρινός που προσπαθούσε να του<br />
235
μάθει κόλπα μυστικά που λίγοι τα ξέρουν. Ήταν ένας<br />
ταχυδακτυλουργός. Το είδε ένα βράδυ, δεύτερο ακριβώς το ίδιο και το<br />
τρίτο βράδυ πήγε στο τσίρκο να δει την μπαλαρίνα. Έκατσε ανάμεσα<br />
στο πλήθος και περίμενε να τελειώσει το πρόγραμμα. Το τελευταίο<br />
αυτό πρόγραμμα είχε κάτι ξεχωριστό. Τα τελευταία νούμερα τα έκανε<br />
ένας ταχυδακτυλουργός. Μόλις ο ταχυδακτυλουργός βγήκε στη σκηνή<br />
ο Αντώνης τον αναγνώρισε αμέσως, ήταν ο άντρας που είχε δει στα<br />
όνειρά του. Ο ταχυδακτυλουργός τον επέλεξε μέσα από πολύ κόσμο<br />
για να κάνει το τελευταίο του νούμερο. Τελειώνει το πρόγραμμα και<br />
πάνε μαζί στα καμαρίνια, εκεί ήταν η μπαλαρίνα που τους περίμενε. Ο<br />
ταχυδακτυλουργός ήταν ο αδερφός της. Ήταν όμως και η μέρα που ο<br />
Αντώνης θα έλεγε στην μπαλαρίνα τι αποφάσισε. Οι ματιές όλων<br />
συναντήθηκαν και ο Αντώνης κατάλαβε πως είχε βρει όχι μόνο το<br />
σπίτι του, αλλά και την αγάπη στο πρόσωπο της μπαλαρίνας…<br />
236
Introduction<br />
The<strong>at</strong>re is <strong>in</strong>terwoven with Greece, as v<strong>in</strong>eyard with its grape: here, <strong>in</strong> this<br />
poor rock <strong>at</strong> the edge of Europe, the full of light and sea land, The<strong>at</strong>rical Act was<br />
born and grew up <strong>at</strong> the ancient times… other periods as a political <strong>in</strong>terference,<br />
other times like as highest cultural act, The<strong>at</strong>re always <strong>def</strong>end<strong>in</strong>g its basic capacity,<br />
this one th<strong>at</strong> Grandf<strong>at</strong>her Aristotles keeps as an epilogue <strong>in</strong> his <strong>def</strong><strong>in</strong>ition for<br />
Tragedy: k<strong>at</strong>harsis, which means clean<strong>in</strong>g, redemption, therapy for everyone…<br />
A group of Greek youngsters, precisely above <strong>in</strong> the lands th<strong>at</strong> Aristofane’s<br />
Trygeos tried to release young lady Ir<strong>in</strong>i (Peace) from her bonds, used The<strong>at</strong>re as<br />
tool of support, dynamic expression, <strong>at</strong>tendance and force. A lot of histories were<br />
molded by the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g, from <strong>in</strong>dividuals th<strong>at</strong> were not always <strong>in</strong> place to express<br />
themselves and to express dynamically their needs and wants.<br />
Fears have raised on the surface, the roles are sometimes narrow – sad, sometimes<br />
sailed above us, but we are there, all the team <strong>in</strong>sist <strong>in</strong> the game, <strong>in</strong> the drama<br />
and comedy, try<strong>in</strong>g to depict our lives through movement, dance and expression.<br />
Young people <strong>at</strong> risk of exclusion, some of them already excluded, together<br />
with counselors, found a chance to talk, s<strong>in</strong>g, and imperson<strong>at</strong>e roles th<strong>at</strong> were<br />
not us – or are they?<br />
Scripts, monologues, poetic expressions, any k<strong>in</strong>d of soul’s deposit performed<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g the Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>er Project. The journey was long and hard, had many<br />
emotions, sorrows and joys, but also new roads!!!<br />
237
F<strong>in</strong>ally, all together as a team, us<strong>in</strong>g as our basic carrier the History of the spoon,<br />
with zero money but a lot of fun, us<strong>in</strong>g simple m<strong>at</strong>erials and with the <strong>in</strong>valuable<br />
guidance of Italian partners, we capitalize our exist<strong>in</strong>g the<strong>at</strong>rical experience, and<br />
we open new p<strong>at</strong>hs for Social Exclusion’s approach. After all this trip, k<strong>at</strong>harsis<br />
came nearer to us, more <strong>in</strong>side us…<br />
Thanks a lot, and welcome to our journey!!<br />
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Greek Team of Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re
The Tree of Life<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Sokr<strong>at</strong>is Apostolopoulos<br />
Once upon a time, two children decided to explore the forest of their region<br />
and specifically a very famous forest with a tree known as «the Tree of Life». So,<br />
the two children – called Logan and Victor – hav<strong>in</strong>g necessary supplies with<br />
them, started go<strong>in</strong>g to the forest. On their way, they saw a wolf, a wolf so big and<br />
wild. Then, the wolf told them: «If you want to let you pass by, first you have to<br />
br<strong>in</strong>g me as much me<strong>at</strong> as you can, because I’ m very hungry!».<br />
Hav<strong>in</strong>g no other choice, the two children had to search the whole forest and<br />
– after hav<strong>in</strong>g killed some deer and foxes – went as fast as they could to give them<br />
to the wolf. Then, the wolf hav<strong>in</strong>g e<strong>at</strong>en and feel<strong>in</strong>g full, told the children: «You<br />
are now free to cont<strong>in</strong>ue your way».<br />
After walk<strong>in</strong>g for almost two hours, the two children suddenly see an elephant<br />
just <strong>in</strong> front of them. The elephant tells them: «For too long, my trunk (proboscis)<br />
is so dirty th<strong>at</strong> has been turned to red… I want you to clean it for me so I<br />
can bre<strong>at</strong>he so easily, as I used to…».<br />
So, the two children had to open their bags and take some brushes and a plier<br />
<strong>in</strong> order to clean the elephant’s trunk. After the children made the trunk very<br />
clean, the elephant told them: «Oh! Thank you, so much! You may now cont<strong>in</strong>ue<br />
your trip».<br />
The two children – feel<strong>in</strong>g now shocked and frightened – tried to f<strong>in</strong>d as soon<br />
as possible the Tree of Life.<br />
239
But the time they had gone quite close to the tree, they see a rabbit just <strong>in</strong> front<br />
of them. Then, the rabbit tells the two children: «If you want to let you cont<strong>in</strong>ue<br />
your way, you should br<strong>in</strong>g me fifty carrots».<br />
Hav<strong>in</strong>g no other choice, the children had to go <strong>in</strong>side the forest and f<strong>in</strong>d as<br />
many carrots as possible. When they f<strong>in</strong>ally managed to pick up fifty carrots,<br />
they gave them to the rabbit – which was speechless – he <strong>at</strong>e them all with such<br />
a pleasure and then he thanked the children for gett<strong>in</strong>g the carrots to him.<br />
After the children have also passed the previous test, they tried to walk slowly<br />
so as not to be seen by anyone and manage to f<strong>in</strong>ally get <strong>at</strong> their dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion,<br />
th<strong>at</strong> is the Tree of Life.<br />
But…wh<strong>at</strong> a surprise! A tiger gets suddenly <strong>in</strong> their way and the children got<br />
so scared th<strong>at</strong> almost cry, because they didn’t want the tiger to hurt them.<br />
Then the tiger asked them to go and br<strong>in</strong>g to her two hundred canaries<br />
(birds). The children felt th<strong>at</strong> they couldn’t kill so many canaries and tried to expla<strong>in</strong><br />
the reasons for th<strong>at</strong> to the tiger:<br />
1) because they love canaries very much<br />
2) canaries – and birds generally – are the joy of God<br />
3) it would very difficult to f<strong>in</strong>d so many canaries<br />
But the tiger told the children: «If you don’t br<strong>in</strong>g the canaries to me, I won’t<br />
let you cont<strong>in</strong>ue your trip!».<br />
So the children had to go and f<strong>in</strong>d the canaries. After kill<strong>in</strong>g them, they gave<br />
them to the tiger which <strong>at</strong>e them with<strong>in</strong> few seconds! Then the tiger, feel<strong>in</strong>g full<br />
and the children could cont<strong>in</strong>ue their way.<br />
After too long, the children f<strong>in</strong>ally got to the Tree of Life!<br />
The sight of it made the children stand with their mouth open… The tree was<br />
full of gorgeous women. Then the two children chose the two most beautiful<br />
women, who loved them with all their heart! They wanted to spend the rest of<br />
their life together…<br />
So the children decided to marry those women, started a family and stayed together<br />
forever…<br />
240<br />
…and they lived happily ever after!
The castle<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Antrianna Antonopoulou – IASIS Day Center<br />
Once upon a time <strong>in</strong> a small village were two children who lived there with<br />
their mother.<br />
One day their mother had her name day and they wanted to give her a gift.<br />
So one morn<strong>in</strong>g before her name day, they decided to go for a walk to the<br />
countryside and collect some flowers.<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> a sunny day!!! They enjoyed th<strong>at</strong> walk and they collect lots of flowers:<br />
anemones, daisies and more… but they couldn’t f<strong>in</strong>d anywhere roses. However,<br />
they cont<strong>in</strong>ued walk<strong>in</strong>g until they found a river. They loved it, so they s<strong>at</strong> under<br />
a tree next to the river. After some hour they got hungry and they <strong>at</strong>e bread and<br />
cheese. And then they kept walk<strong>in</strong>g… Suddenly they saw a wolf and th<strong>at</strong> was so<br />
scary th<strong>at</strong> they run far away as soon as they could f<strong>in</strong>d a shelter to hide their<br />
selves.<br />
Some hours l<strong>at</strong>er the wolf disappeared so they left the shelter and moved on.<br />
Some miles away they found a castle. The door opened and a courteous lady<br />
appeared. She <strong>in</strong>vited them <strong>in</strong>to for a lunch. She was very good and gentle lady.<br />
The castle was gorgeous and surrounded of flowers and red roses.<br />
They thought th<strong>at</strong> she was such a good lady, th<strong>at</strong> they asked her if they could<br />
collect some roses for their mother. She allowed them so they collected enough<br />
flowers. Also she asked them if they want to play with her child, so as it happened.<br />
241
The night fell and the children had to go immedi<strong>at</strong>ely because their mom<br />
would worry. They turned back home but mommy wasn’t there! They worried<br />
so much th<strong>at</strong> they started look<strong>in</strong>g for her.<br />
After six hour they found her. She was look<strong>in</strong>g for them too. They gave her all<br />
the flowers they had collect and kissed her.<br />
And they lived happily ever after!!!<br />
242
If I were an angel I would be happy<br />
And if I lived down to earth<br />
I would be healthy<br />
If<br />
AUTHOR<br />
IASIS Day Center<br />
If I were everyth<strong>in</strong>g, everyth<strong>in</strong>g, everyth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
I wouldn’t have problems anymore<br />
Fly away<br />
If I were a rose <strong>at</strong> your yard<br />
I would be happy<br />
Because you would w<strong>at</strong>ered me<br />
If I were everyth<strong>in</strong>g, everyth<strong>in</strong>g, everyth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
I wouldn’t have problems anymore<br />
Fly away<br />
If I were a cloud <strong>in</strong> the sky<br />
I would travel to magical worlds<br />
Try<strong>in</strong>g to f<strong>in</strong>d you<br />
If I were everyth<strong>in</strong>g, everyth<strong>in</strong>g, everyth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
I wouldn’t have problems anymore<br />
Fly away<br />
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The destruction of the wall – Monologue<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Members of IASIS Day Center<br />
I see a wall stands <strong>in</strong> front of me. I can see the end of it and I am try<strong>in</strong>g to reach<br />
it, but I cannot lean on.<br />
I am try<strong>in</strong>g to f<strong>in</strong>d small nicks and maybe manage to climb. The nicks are very<br />
small and I can barely get hooked on. I move a stone and fly on it. I managed to<br />
reduce the distance enough…now the end (of the wall) is closer. I dig the slots<br />
with my nails and try to make cavities so as to be able to climb.<br />
A brick falls from the wall and cre<strong>at</strong>es a frame. Now, I can get more easily a<br />
higher po<strong>in</strong>t of the wall. My nails have been destroyed but I don’t give up. I keep<br />
up mak<strong>in</strong>g frames. I am about to reach to the end…<br />
My nails are now bleed<strong>in</strong>g – I am reach<strong>in</strong>g the end of the wall, with every<br />
power <strong>in</strong> my hands, I jump and manage to reach the edge of the wall. I reach,<br />
look down…beh<strong>in</strong>d the wall there is someth<strong>in</strong>g unique.<br />
A vast green area with hills and streams, a huge lake with trees and some strange<br />
plants. I am grabbed by the branches of a tree and slowly descend to the<br />
ground. I dr<strong>in</strong>k the pure w<strong>at</strong>er of the stream, so I am not feel<strong>in</strong>g thirsty anymore…<br />
I now walk to the lake. Various fishes swim <strong>in</strong> its w<strong>at</strong>er and sparkle <strong>in</strong> the<br />
sun. I feel cool from the lake’s w<strong>at</strong>er and go out to dry… I now feel the warm caress<br />
of the sun.<br />
As I walk, the green ground is go<strong>in</strong>g away and be<strong>in</strong>g replaced by golden sand:<br />
I am suddenly <strong>in</strong> front of a endless beach with pebbles and sand dunes. I am not<br />
244
y myself. There are several figures. The sunlight slowly fad<strong>in</strong>g away and a full<br />
moon appear. Friends are g<strong>at</strong>hered around a fire. I can lie on the warm sand and<br />
enjoy the playfulness of the moon on the sea and the peace of the sound of the<br />
woods which flicker <strong>in</strong> the air cre<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g different form<strong>at</strong>ions.<br />
The sound of laughter and whispers give a different tone…as if they are mixed<br />
with the splash of the sea.<br />
Maybe here now I can rest. I feel the w<strong>in</strong>d gives me chills and a sweet serenity<br />
<strong>in</strong>vit<strong>in</strong>g me to the world of dreams…<br />
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The unusual spoon story<br />
A story cre<strong>at</strong>ed, through the<strong>at</strong>er games, expression exercises and improvis<strong>at</strong>ion<br />
<strong>in</strong> the framework of Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re Project, by all members of IASIS Day Center<br />
Once upon a time, <strong>in</strong> the kitchen of an Athenian house, I met a spoon, which<br />
wanted to share with me a story. It started tell<strong>in</strong>g me th<strong>at</strong> the biggest part of its<br />
life, from the day of its production until it takes its place <strong>in</strong> this house, it used to<br />
live <strong>at</strong> the corner shop where sailed kitchen stuff.<br />
SCENE I<br />
In the w<strong>in</strong>dow of the store<br />
The spoon always was <strong>in</strong> a box with another set of spoons made of the same<br />
m<strong>at</strong>erial as th<strong>at</strong>. It had many dreams th<strong>at</strong> one day it would be <strong>in</strong> the kitchen of a<br />
gre<strong>at</strong> chef and th<strong>at</strong> would help him to cook a lot and good food. It had many ambitions<br />
for itself. It was an amaz<strong>in</strong>g, deep scoop, made from high quality sta<strong>in</strong>less<br />
steel and a handle made of n<strong>at</strong>ural rubber. But for many years the spoon was<br />
wait<strong>in</strong>g for the gre<strong>at</strong> time to come, the time of a gourmet cook<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
One day, a k<strong>in</strong>d old lady entered the shop to buy equipment for her kitchen.<br />
All the kitchenware were excited, they thought: «F<strong>in</strong>ally we will get out of<br />
here», but which of all the old lady would pick??? So the competition began!<br />
They decor<strong>at</strong>ed, polished and jo<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> order to present their skills. Mr. Thanasis<br />
was the owner of the shop and he rushed to help the old lady.<br />
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Old lady: I’m look<strong>in</strong>g for special kitchen equipment. A friend of m<strong>in</strong>e recommends<br />
me your shop. He told me th<strong>at</strong> you have gre<strong>at</strong> kitchenware with special<br />
skills. They also talk!!!<br />
Mr. Thanasis: Oh yes of course!!! In my shop I have kitchenware with special<br />
skills. Come to see them and choose the best for you. Here is the pot and it’s<br />
very gifted too!!<br />
Pot Zias: Helloooo!!! I love to cook lentils and pasta!!! And here is my best friend,<br />
spoon Panagiota. We work well together and we make nice and delicious food.<br />
Old lady: Th<strong>at</strong> Pot it’s an <strong>in</strong>terest<strong>in</strong>g personality, Mr. Thanasis! Through its low<br />
profile I can see th<strong>at</strong> with proper encouragement it has many properties.<br />
Mr. Thanasis: And now I would like to present you th<strong>at</strong> little orange pot. It’s the<br />
most beautiful pot I have.<br />
Pot Thalia: Hiiiii!!! I’m a little and convenient pot and my name is Thalia. If you<br />
choose me you should be sure th<strong>at</strong> you will have the most delicious food<br />
like rice and pasta. The only th<strong>in</strong>g I worry about is th<strong>at</strong> sometimes I become<br />
fussy because I want to cook quickly.<br />
Old lady: Wow!!! Very cute pot, I want to buy it!!! And wh<strong>at</strong> we have here…<br />
Cooker: Hello all of you… I’m the Cooker and I’m always <strong>in</strong> function<strong>in</strong>g. My<br />
buttons always regul<strong>at</strong>e the appropri<strong>at</strong>e temper<strong>at</strong>ure. Buy MEEEE pleaseeeee!<br />
I’m a lot of years here and I want to get out. So move out of my wayyy!<br />
Old lady: Hmmm Gre<strong>at</strong> personality. I’m <strong>in</strong>terested to see how it cooper<strong>at</strong>es<br />
with other kitchenware. I’m curious to see them how they work together.<br />
Mr. Thanasis: Our Cooker has a lot of energy and it hasn’t found yet any way to<br />
control it. It hopes th<strong>at</strong> it will have the opportunity to become your cooker.<br />
Old lady: We will see! Wh<strong>at</strong> else do you have?<br />
Pot Kalliopitsa: Hellooo!! I’m a silver pot and my name is Kalliopitsa. My advantage<br />
is th<strong>at</strong> I’m very quiet, cooper<strong>at</strong>ive and clear.<br />
Old lady: You’re right!!! Wh<strong>at</strong>’s next??<br />
Pan Nikitas: Hello!! I’m a dynamic pan and my name is Nikitas. I can stand <strong>in</strong><br />
high temper<strong>at</strong>ures and harsh wash<strong>in</strong>g. I cook delicious food and desserts. I<br />
can bake mousaka, lamp, fishes, baklava and other goodies!!<br />
Old lady: Wow!… Th<strong>at</strong> pan has a lot of confident!! And wh<strong>at</strong> we have here???<br />
Knife: Hello I’m the knife. I have gre<strong>at</strong> ideas. I'm always mobile, very cheerful<br />
and will<strong>in</strong>g to make others work easier. But I warn you, sometimes I can be<br />
dangerous.<br />
Old lady: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you mean by dangerous??? Is there any danger for me or my<br />
grandson???<br />
Knife: Don’t worry! I always pay <strong>at</strong>tention when somebody uses me.<br />
Old lady: Who’s next?<br />
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Cook<strong>in</strong>g Book: Hi lady!! I hope you choose me. I’m Barbaritsa’s cook<strong>in</strong>g book.<br />
I’m an amaz<strong>in</strong>g cook<strong>in</strong>g book with several recipes for dishes and sweets. My<br />
specialty is Greek salad with balsamic v<strong>in</strong>egar, capers and oregano.<br />
Old lady: Yes, a cook<strong>in</strong>g Book will help me to cook someth<strong>in</strong>g different to my<br />
grandson except from lentils and bean soup. I will th<strong>in</strong>k about it… And who<br />
is beside you?<br />
Boiler: Hello Old Lady. I’m the boiler called Aster<strong>at</strong>i. I have two colors and I’m<br />
specializ<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> boiled eggs.<br />
Old lady: Amaz<strong>in</strong>g boiler! So, Mr. Thanasis, your kitchenware are truly unique.<br />
Each one has a special personality, ability and many possibilities of development.<br />
I’m sure th<strong>at</strong> all would be important for my kitchen.<br />
The old woman was dizzy by all these kitchenware. She didn’t know which<br />
one to choose.<br />
Old lady: Unfortun<strong>at</strong>ely, I don’t have much money to buy all these, she said.<br />
Suddenly, <strong>at</strong> the back, she saw a spoon. Old Lady thought th<strong>at</strong> a spoon and a<br />
set of small spoons is exactly th<strong>at</strong> she needs. So, without a second thought, she<br />
bought them.<br />
Mr. Thanasis: But this spoon didn’t present it self.<br />
He was surprised.<br />
Old lady: Well, it’s a deep spoon with all the standards… In addition m<strong>at</strong>ches<br />
well with the other spoons.<br />
Spoons: F<strong>in</strong>ally, we did it!!! We will go to the kitchen!!!<br />
SCENE II<br />
At old lady’s kitchen<br />
So Old Lady bought the spoon with the other little spoons and they went <strong>at</strong><br />
her kitchen. They were so happy. The Spoon met <strong>at</strong> Old Lady’s kitchen other kitchenware<br />
which welcomed her.<br />
«We’ll teach you how to make soup and lentils!».<br />
«We’ll wash ourselves <strong>in</strong> the s<strong>in</strong>k together… its fantastic!».<br />
«We have fun here, we cook gre<strong>at</strong> foods».<br />
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«Welcome!!!».<br />
But the Spoon disappo<strong>in</strong>ted! «Here are liv<strong>in</strong>g just unpolished and poor quality<br />
cutlery which only know to mix lentils and soups. I was not constructed to<br />
produce some lentils and beans, but to mix gourmet soups». She started cry<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
the other spoons tried to revive her but she didn’t hear anyone. Now, many emotions<br />
flooded her heart, countless thoughts jump<strong>in</strong>g out of her m<strong>in</strong>d and she<br />
didn’t realize th<strong>at</strong> she didn’t feel well. «Wh<strong>at</strong> I want here with these junk cutlery?»,<br />
she thought, «I better go <strong>in</strong>to th<strong>at</strong> drawer and try to relax and f<strong>in</strong>d myself».<br />
SCENE III<br />
In the drawer<br />
So… spoon went and hide <strong>in</strong> the darker side of the drawer, it didn’t want to<br />
see anyone, even the spoons from the shop. She went there for long time, alone,<br />
with the certa<strong>in</strong>ty th<strong>at</strong> it did the best for itself… There, <strong>in</strong> the dark, thousands<br />
thoughts were twist<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> its m<strong>in</strong>d.<br />
«I will stay here, is better than outside».<br />
«I have different dreams from them».<br />
«The other kitchenware jelous me».<br />
«Everyone wants the worst for me».<br />
«Everyone look <strong>at</strong> me weird».<br />
«It’s better to stay away from them because they prepare someth<strong>in</strong>g bad for me».<br />
But gradually it began to feel an anxiety and a huge fear. It started fad<strong>in</strong>g, lost<br />
its sh<strong>in</strong>e and beauty but it couldn’t understand wh<strong>at</strong> was happen<strong>in</strong>g. It became<br />
stiff, without colour. It didn’t recognize itself. The rest of the kitchenware was<br />
not approach<strong>in</strong>g, for all it was the odd spoon. It was hard for the others to understand<br />
and feel its agony. The only th<strong>in</strong>g it used to do is to s<strong>in</strong>g. It was sitt<strong>in</strong>g for<br />
hours and s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g a song, strange and weird th<strong>at</strong> nobody knew…<br />
«La la la la Days and nights move on and I’m still stand<strong>in</strong>g here <strong>in</strong> the corner<br />
of the drawer s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g alone… La la la la».<br />
SCENE IV<br />
The come back of knife<br />
But one day someth<strong>in</strong>g changed. A knife heard its song and started s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g<br />
like spoon, with the same strange sounds <strong>in</strong> the same <strong>in</strong>comprehensible words.<br />
For the spoon, this move was a gre<strong>at</strong> support. The knife showed gre<strong>at</strong> <strong>in</strong>terest for<br />
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the spoon and the spoon begane to trust it and share with it its thoughts and beliefs.<br />
The spoon after so long alone felt an unexpla<strong>in</strong>able hope, it wasn’t alone<br />
any more, it had a new friend.<br />
Then came and the other spoons and knifes to support it. Spoon began to f<strong>in</strong>d<br />
its color and sh<strong>in</strong>e aga<strong>in</strong>. It remembered its life <strong>in</strong> the corner shop where it used<br />
to live and started cry<strong>in</strong>g!!!<br />
«I was so fool», spoon said. «I had gre<strong>at</strong> ideas for myself. I thought everybody<br />
wants to hurt me and I couldn’t trust anyone. Look, how sad I become».<br />
«Everyth<strong>in</strong>g can change, there is life outside the drawer», the knife said…<br />
«Look», it said show<strong>in</strong>g outside of the drawer, «it’s the kitchen you've always<br />
dreamed of, it's time to prove wh<strong>at</strong> you can do it».<br />
The knife tried to open the drawer and help the spoon to get out of there. But<br />
he couldn’t do it, so they tried together to open it. At first the spoon was afraid<br />
but the knife and the others encouraged it and with a big jump they found out of<br />
the drawer.<br />
SCENE V<br />
The life out of the drawer<br />
It was a shock<strong>in</strong>g jump, <strong>in</strong>describable and they found <strong>in</strong> front of Old Lady’s<br />
feet. Old Lady had forgotten her spoon. «Wow, my lovely spoon I thought th<strong>at</strong> I<br />
had lost it», Old Lady said. She quickly took it and used it to mix the bean soup.<br />
It was a warm and delicious soup, the spoon felt so beautiful: «It’s nice to share<br />
experiences with others, to cooper<strong>at</strong>e and made nice and tasty food»‚ said excited,<br />
«Do you want to learn how to cook gourmet food?».<br />
«Yes», they said and they welcome it back <strong>in</strong> the kitchen.<br />
Old Lady’s grandchildren had already arrived very hungry… «Wh<strong>at</strong> have you<br />
cooked Grandma?», they said and then put the spoon and the other kitchenware<br />
<strong>in</strong> the s<strong>in</strong>k for wash<strong>in</strong>g… The spoon for first time played with its friends <strong>in</strong> the<br />
s<strong>in</strong>k, feel<strong>in</strong>g calm, helpful and happy!<br />
It didn’t want to feel alone aga<strong>in</strong>!!!<br />
250
Search<strong>in</strong>g for hope<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Antriana Antonopoulou – IASIS Day Center<br />
Have you ever seen little children five, six, eight years old fight<strong>in</strong>g for some<br />
flour?<br />
Yes…some flour. With a handle of flour their mother could cook some pies<br />
and befool their hunger. If some food had left from the almost always empty<br />
table, then their happ<strong>in</strong>ess would be double, because th<strong>at</strong> food seemed huge <strong>in</strong><br />
their eyes and enough for their tremendous hunger.<br />
Those years were very difficult <strong>in</strong> th<strong>at</strong> desert island were they used to live.<br />
Maritsa was the oldest child. She used to take care of her sisters and brothers.<br />
When she grew up, she decided to come to Athens.<br />
Although her tiredness all these years, she tried to f<strong>in</strong>d a job and after some<br />
days she found a house where she could work as a housekeeper.<br />
Next morn<strong>in</strong>g she went there, she didn’t have other choice. She knocked the<br />
door twice and an old lady opened. She was disliked and curious.<br />
The old woman asked her wh<strong>at</strong> she knew to do as a housekeeper.<br />
Then they agreed for the housework and the payment and she got the job.<br />
She put on an apron to protect her clothes because she had only few.<br />
She used to feel like an old woman cause of the tiredness she had all this years.<br />
One day as she was iron<strong>in</strong>g, the old lady’s son came <strong>in</strong>to the room where she<br />
was. They met each other, his name was Thanasis. After th<strong>at</strong> day he asked her to<br />
go for a walk or go out for a dr<strong>in</strong>k. She was excited. As the night fall they went to<br />
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a party. She couldn’t believe <strong>in</strong> her eyes … So many food and lots of dr<strong>in</strong>ks!<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> a gre<strong>at</strong> Rendez-vous they had! They discussed about their lifes. Thanasis<br />
seemed happy and excited, but his character was different. His was just a pessimist!!!<br />
Day after day, Maritsa began to worry and felt unsafe with her job. Th<strong>at</strong>’s why<br />
the old lady wanted to fire her.<br />
Suddenly as she was walk<strong>in</strong>g she met someone. A beautiful tall guy came over<br />
her. His name was Alex. He worked <strong>at</strong> a company as a bookkeeper. They became<br />
friends and he suggested her <strong>at</strong> his job. They needed a secretary.<br />
At the end they fall <strong>in</strong> love and they get married. He was also rich th<strong>at</strong>’s why he<br />
organized th<strong>at</strong> marriage. So all her problems solved, after so much suffer<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong><br />
her life, they had a fabulous wedd<strong>in</strong>g and they lived happily!!!<br />
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The game of life<br />
AUTHORS<br />
Alperti Ioanna, Korella Eleni & Members of Sheltered House IASIS<br />
Heroes of the script<br />
Antigone: is a doctor specializ<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> constip<strong>at</strong>ion and she is Violet’s younger<br />
sister.<br />
Violet: is work<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a flower shop and she loves her job. She has put a special<br />
sound system <strong>in</strong> order to enterta<strong>in</strong> the flowers!<br />
Dimitris: ex-farmer came to Athens for a better life.<br />
Odysseus: is a P/C technician and he is Costas’s best friend.<br />
Paraskevas: is work<strong>in</strong>g as a builder and has a brother who hasn’t seen him for<br />
twenty years.<br />
Mary: has its own gas st<strong>at</strong>ion and she is work<strong>in</strong>g with her fiancé.<br />
Chris: is a ship-owner, who has lived many years <strong>in</strong> Cairo and now he has returned<br />
to his n<strong>at</strong>ive country Greece.<br />
Chrisafgi: is a housewife and Aspasia’s aunt.<br />
Aspasia: is a teacher. She left Kalavrita city (a small town of Peloponissos area<br />
<strong>in</strong> Greece) where she use to live, mak<strong>in</strong>g a transfer to a <strong>school</strong> <strong>in</strong> Athens.<br />
Achilleas: is the baker man <strong>in</strong> the neighborhood and his place is a real meet<strong>in</strong>g<br />
po<strong>in</strong>t for everyone.<br />
Dennis: is work<strong>in</strong>g as a sweeper <strong>in</strong> the region of Peristeri <strong>in</strong> Athens.<br />
Kostas: is a car technician <strong>in</strong> the gas st<strong>at</strong>ion of his fiancée, Maria.<br />
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We are <strong>in</strong> the Athenian area of Peristeri. Time is 5:00 am and Achilleas has already<br />
put the loaves <strong>in</strong> the oven to bake bread. He is very happy because the work<br />
has <strong>in</strong>creased and he is consider<strong>in</strong>g about putt<strong>in</strong>g an advertisement <strong>in</strong> the newspaper<br />
to f<strong>in</strong>d an employee. Dur<strong>in</strong>g the day many people pass by the bakery to<br />
buy bread and other goodies. Around 10:00 am, Achilleas’s friend Dimitris, who<br />
hasn’t see<strong>in</strong>g him s<strong>in</strong>ce their holidays <strong>in</strong> Lefkada Island, came to Bakery shop.<br />
Dimitris expla<strong>in</strong>s th<strong>at</strong> he decided to leave Lefkada Island and his village to come<br />
<strong>in</strong> Athens, f<strong>in</strong>d a job <strong>in</strong> order to support his family. Dimitris asks his friend if he<br />
knows someone who’s seek<strong>in</strong>g an employee. Achilleas offers him the job <strong>in</strong> the<br />
bakery <strong>in</strong> order to help him. Dimitris agrees with delight and immedi<strong>at</strong>ely gets<br />
the job. After a while, Achilleas tells Dimitris th<strong>at</strong> he has to pay his bills <strong>in</strong> the<br />
post office and he will be for a few m<strong>in</strong>utes alone. Dimitris is not worried. Job is<br />
demand<strong>in</strong>g but he likes it. A few m<strong>in</strong>utes l<strong>at</strong>er, Antigone enters the bakery and<br />
sees Dimitris for her first time. She makes a number of questions to learn a bit<br />
about her new neighbor.<br />
A few yards away, more or less <strong>at</strong> the same time, <strong>at</strong> the gas st<strong>at</strong>ion of Costas and<br />
Mary displays a gre<strong>at</strong> car, <strong>in</strong> which is Chris newly arrived from Cairo. Costas and<br />
Maria are try<strong>in</strong>g hard to serve him. Chris is hold<strong>in</strong>g a paper with an address <strong>in</strong> his<br />
hand ask<strong>in</strong>g for <strong>in</strong>form<strong>at</strong>ion on how to go to his dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion. He expla<strong>in</strong>s to the<br />
couple th<strong>at</strong> he is Greek and has lived many years <strong>in</strong> Cairo, where he did bus<strong>in</strong>ess<br />
and earned lots of money. He also says th<strong>at</strong> decided to return to Greece <strong>in</strong> order to<br />
f<strong>in</strong>d his brother Paraskevas who hasn’t seen him for twenty years. The two young<br />
people are emotionally moved by the story and they try<strong>in</strong>g to help him.<br />
In square of Peristeri there is Violet’s flower shop. She is very upset because<br />
the music system has broken down and she fears th<strong>at</strong> the flowers will be withered.<br />
So she asks for Odysseus’s help who is an electronic system’s technician. He<br />
is try<strong>in</strong>g hard to fix the damage but required to takes several hours. At the same<br />
time, Violet makes some compositions of flowers to decor<strong>at</strong>e the church where<br />
there will be Mary’s and Costa’s wedd<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Around 12:30, Achilleas returns to the bakery and says to Dimitris th<strong>at</strong> he has<br />
to be four days abroad. Dimitris tells him not to worry and th<strong>at</strong> he will take care<br />
of the bakery. Achilleas thanked him and left for home to prepare his journey.<br />
Half an hour l<strong>at</strong>er, Dennis enters the shop, mak<strong>in</strong>g his work - break. While Dennis<br />
was talk<strong>in</strong>g to Dimitris, Aspasia enters the store. She says hello to them and<br />
tells them th<strong>at</strong> this is her first day <strong>in</strong> Athens. She came from Kalavrita town to<br />
work <strong>at</strong> a <strong>school</strong> <strong>in</strong> Peristeri area. Aspasia requests the two men to show her<br />
where the <strong>school</strong> is. Dennis enchanted by the beauty of Aspasia will<strong>in</strong>g to guide<br />
her to <strong>school</strong>. Aspasia asks Dennis if he knows a house to rent. Dennis tells her<br />
th<strong>at</strong> his friend Odysseus has a house th<strong>at</strong> he wants to be rent and immedi<strong>at</strong>ely<br />
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call him and arrange a meet<strong>in</strong>g. Odysseus tells them th<strong>at</strong> he is <strong>at</strong> the square to the<br />
Violet’s store, and he asks them if he wants to pass by. Aspasia and Dennis agree<br />
and they are go<strong>in</strong>g to the flower shop. Arriv<strong>in</strong>g there, they f<strong>in</strong>d Maria and Violet<br />
discussed on the cost of the wedd<strong>in</strong>g flowers and Odysseus totally lost <strong>in</strong>to<br />
lights and lamps. Dennis makes recommend<strong>at</strong>ions and Odysseus with Aspasia<br />
discuss about the house and negoti<strong>at</strong>es for a good price. Dennis suggests Aspasia<br />
to go see a movie <strong>at</strong> night. She accepts the <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>ion with joy.<br />
At 5 pm Aspasia goes to Paraskevas and Chrisafgi house who are the only rel<strong>at</strong>ives<br />
she has <strong>in</strong> Athens. They <strong>in</strong>vite her to have d<strong>in</strong>ner with them and suggest to<br />
Aspasia to stay <strong>in</strong> their’s place until she rents a house. Aspasia refuses politely<br />
tell<strong>in</strong>g them th<strong>at</strong> she has already pay for a three day stay <strong>at</strong> the hotel. However,<br />
she says th<strong>at</strong> she wants to make a contact with Antigone because she has a major<br />
problem of constip<strong>at</strong>ion. Mrs. Chrisafgi calls Antigone, expla<strong>in</strong>s the problem of<br />
her niece and closes an appo<strong>in</strong>tment for 6:30. Aspasia stays with her uncle until<br />
6:15 and then goes to the Antigone’s dispensary which is <strong>in</strong> the next corner. Aspasia<br />
expla<strong>in</strong>s Antigone her problem and the doctor writes a lax<strong>at</strong>ive. The doctor<br />
advices Aspasia to talk with a psychologist because constip<strong>at</strong>ion is usually a psychological<br />
problem. Aspasia was really very sad s<strong>in</strong>ce he came to Athens, as the<br />
transfer was not actually her wish.<br />
The time now is 6:30 pm, and <strong>in</strong> Christos’s limous<strong>in</strong>e, we f<strong>in</strong>d him with<br />
Kostas and Maria. They all go to Paraskeva’s home. Christos feels like fly<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong><br />
the sky and Kostas and Maria feel like was play<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a cop’s movie, because of<br />
the speed! Around 7:00 they arrive outside Paraskeva’s home. In the courtyard,<br />
Chrisafgi’ does some stretch cloth<strong>in</strong>g. In view of the car, bas<strong>in</strong> with the clothes<br />
falls down from her hands. She screams and her husband goes out. Paraskevas,<br />
runs to his brother side, and the two men fall weep<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to each other's arms.<br />
Chrisafgi <strong>in</strong>vite everyone <strong>in</strong> the house to e<strong>at</strong> a delicious greek delight.<br />
An hour l<strong>at</strong>er, Odysseus completes his job <strong>in</strong> Violet’s flower shop after 8<br />
hours of pa<strong>in</strong>stak<strong>in</strong>g work. He asks his fees from Violet, but she f<strong>in</strong>ds it very high<br />
and asks him for a better price. Odysseus is soulful and Violet agrees to give him<br />
a nice pot.<br />
Around 8 pm, Costas and Maria returned home after a hard and busy day,<br />
and they have d<strong>in</strong>ner together.<br />
At the same time, Aspasia is <strong>in</strong> her hotel’s room and gett<strong>in</strong>g ready to go out<br />
with Dennis. She is particularly concerned about her transfer to Athens. Her<br />
thoughts are <strong>in</strong> Kalavrita and her family. Her heart tells her to go home, but the<br />
logic says th<strong>at</strong> <strong>in</strong> Athens she could have a better life. She decided to go to the c<strong>in</strong>ema<br />
and leave these thoughts for tomorrow. Meanwhile, Dennis is already prepared<br />
for the d<strong>at</strong>e, excited about it! Suddenly he realizes th<strong>at</strong> he has no money left.<br />
255
Without a second thought, quickly descends the stairs go<strong>in</strong>g to his friend<br />
Odysseus, who gives him some money wish<strong>in</strong>g him a nice even<strong>in</strong>g. Dennis goes<br />
hurriedly to the c<strong>in</strong>ema where Aspasia is already wait<strong>in</strong>g 1 m<strong>in</strong>ute and 27 seconds.<br />
Aspasia makes it a big deal, but Dennis with sweet words calms her down<br />
and, f<strong>in</strong>ally, they go to see the movie together.<br />
At 11:00 pm Violet and Dimitris close their shops and go <strong>in</strong>to their homes.<br />
Aspasia and Dennis say goodbye and say th<strong>at</strong> they will meet each other tomorrow.<br />
Our heroes go for relax<strong>at</strong>ion. Now streets are deserted. They are all wait<strong>in</strong>g<br />
for next day’s «games».<br />
256
The bottom of the sea<br />
AUTHORS<br />
Juvenille prob<strong>at</strong>ion office’s team<br />
A child <strong>in</strong> a faraway world decided to take a walk <strong>in</strong>to the most strange bottom<br />
of a sea. It was a colored bottom with all k<strong>in</strong>ds of species of the sea. Sharks,<br />
dolph<strong>in</strong>s, octopuses, fishes and shells. While he was swimm<strong>in</strong>g he found a little<br />
happy fish <strong>in</strong> its house. The fish’s house was very beautiful! So the child started<br />
a convers<strong>at</strong>ion with fish.<br />
«You will meet many of my friends here. If you go a little bit above you will see<br />
Mr Octopus and my friends the dolph<strong>in</strong>s. But be careful because, as they told<br />
me, the we<strong>at</strong>her isn’t very good and very often a huge unknown object comes<br />
and makes mess to our homes», the little fish said.<br />
While the child was ready to leave, the little fish said to him: «Wait!! I forgot<br />
to tell you about another danger. Be careful of the hooks or someth<strong>in</strong>g like<br />
th<strong>at</strong>… you th<strong>in</strong>k th<strong>at</strong> they give you delicious goodies but… They take you far<br />
away. Th<strong>at</strong>’s how the mother dolph<strong>in</strong> misleads and left her little dolph<strong>in</strong>s<br />
alone».<br />
The child smiled like he knew wh<strong>at</strong> the fish was talk<strong>in</strong>g about. He thanked it<br />
and left. Really the little child saw all these.<br />
Somewhere <strong>at</strong> the end of his journey he met Mr Sour. This was his nickname.<br />
He had the most beautiful house of all the sea animals ever had but he never stayed<br />
<strong>in</strong> it. He always made p<strong>at</strong>rols so th<strong>at</strong> no one comes close to it. «Wh<strong>at</strong> a<br />
pity!», the little kid thought. «He has the most beautiful house but he cannot be<br />
happy for it. How he lives with no friends?», he cont<strong>in</strong>ued th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
257
The journey ended and our little friend had to go back to his family. He decided<br />
not to talk about his adventure and, before he opens the door of his house,<br />
he said for a last time: «Look!! Everyth<strong>in</strong>g was so different but all of them were<br />
beautiful! Everyth<strong>in</strong>g was so different but all of them were <strong>in</strong> th<strong>at</strong> colored bottom!!».<br />
258
Youth rap song 1<br />
AUTHORS<br />
Juvenille prob<strong>at</strong>ion office’s team<br />
I h<strong>at</strong>e the<strong>at</strong>re, Sundays on dirty streets, the dirty allergenic people.<br />
I h<strong>at</strong>e rich people go<strong>in</strong>g to opera, they seem so proud for their selves but they<br />
all have pa<strong>in</strong>s all over.<br />
I h<strong>at</strong>e tripe soup after a sleepless night, the smell from all this v<strong>in</strong>egar.<br />
I h<strong>at</strong>e the cops th<strong>at</strong> supposedly take care of us, and the racists across the street<br />
wait<strong>in</strong>g For junta.<br />
Fishes!! I am the old one, keep your boredom, now I see th<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>in</strong> a different<br />
way.<br />
Damned the <strong>school</strong>, teachers and priests!<br />
I h<strong>at</strong>e the person th<strong>at</strong> has noth<strong>in</strong>g to say and blurt out a stupid remark, and<br />
break the silence.<br />
No money, no cars no job, I take the buses to f<strong>in</strong>d the beach. Look a mess, the<br />
beach is<br />
disgust<strong>in</strong>g, all these unpr<strong>in</strong>cipled people took care of it.<br />
Everywhere exist lies, everywhere hypocrisy is <strong>in</strong> my m<strong>in</strong>d, as the mess.<br />
You bully<strong>in</strong>g on me, cigarettes are too many, f<strong>in</strong>ally are you a man or a woman?<br />
259
Youth rap song 2<br />
AUTHORS<br />
Juvenille prob<strong>at</strong>ion office’s team<br />
There is dirt everywhere on the streets, <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>s even more <strong>in</strong> the buses.<br />
I am allergic to dirt.<br />
I am sick of all these lies, the rav<strong>in</strong>gs and all these stupid th<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
Enough with the rubbish th<strong>at</strong> rich people and idiots tell.<br />
There is a bad smell on the streets, <strong>in</strong> houses and on square,<br />
<strong>in</strong> the<strong>at</strong>res, <strong>in</strong> opera and <strong>in</strong> coffee houses where everyone is look<strong>in</strong>g for salv<strong>at</strong>ion.<br />
We are fishes <strong>in</strong> life and they guide us to dirty beaches.<br />
Where they want to see us.<br />
They go to the tv channels and talk on the news rich people, racists, reporters<br />
and bull shits.<br />
They talk eternally and say rav<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
I am really sick hear<strong>in</strong>g all these bull shits.<br />
Everyone is look<strong>in</strong>g for himself, his friend, his brother,<br />
to f<strong>in</strong>d his identity and his ideals.<br />
I am allergic to dirt.<br />
260
If you want to keep company with me you must conv<strong>in</strong>ce me<br />
AUTHORS<br />
Juvenille prob<strong>at</strong>ion office’s team<br />
It is a a very dynamic and selective company. Its members are selected one by<br />
one. The selective procedure is very important. It <strong>in</strong>cludes even a personal <strong>in</strong>terview.<br />
Members of the committee are two persons worth trusted with the ability<br />
to take the necessary explan<strong>at</strong>ion from the applicants about the reason they must<br />
accept them <strong>in</strong>to their company. They must conv<strong>in</strong>ce them, make them believe<br />
th<strong>at</strong> they are worth to become members of the company. The nervous candid<strong>at</strong>es<br />
are look<strong>in</strong>g for <strong>at</strong>tempt to manage it. No one dares to start.<br />
Manolis can’t stand anymore and try to enter <strong>in</strong>to the special company. The<br />
committee reproves him and asks for his reasons. Tricky as always and <strong>in</strong>telligent<br />
person, he starts to negoti<strong>at</strong>e with them. He says to them about his drama, he will<br />
travel, go for vac<strong>at</strong>ion, he will miss them, he asks it as a favor because he will leave<br />
for about a month and they will lose him. The committee isn’t conv<strong>in</strong>ced. He uses<br />
all the ways… He promises them presents. The committee f<strong>in</strong>ally accepts immedi<strong>at</strong>ely<br />
without convers<strong>at</strong>ion and without difficulty. Manolis is lucky, he did<br />
it, he is now a member of this special company. He feels strong!<br />
Now he is the one who decides! It is to time to start the negoti<strong>at</strong>ion. The questions<br />
are cont<strong>in</strong>uous to the other two candid<strong>at</strong>es:<br />
Anthi: Nice this one bribed us. Wh<strong>at</strong> they will say next candid<strong>at</strong>es?<br />
Iannis: Ok let’s hear you.<br />
Lazarus: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you want me to say? I do not know, I am a good boy…<br />
261
Anthi: Is this enough for us?<br />
Iannis: of course itsn’t enough<br />
Manolis: Come on say someth<strong>in</strong>g else.<br />
Anthi: We want someth<strong>in</strong>g more resound<strong>in</strong>g! Wh<strong>at</strong> do you mean a good boy?<br />
Lazarus: I will prove it to you…<br />
Manolis: With this way you will never jo<strong>in</strong> the company.<br />
Lazarus: I will buy for you someth<strong>in</strong>g expensive<br />
Anthi: we get bribed aga<strong>in</strong>…<br />
Manolis: I am gett<strong>in</strong>g angry. You will never jo<strong>in</strong> the company.<br />
Anthi: Oooooooh.<br />
Lazarus: I don’t know wh<strong>at</strong> to say…<br />
Anthi: wh<strong>at</strong> do we possibly want?<br />
Manolis: a check of a million…<br />
Lazarus: I will give it.<br />
Manolis: Oh men! two millions!!<br />
Iannis: With two millions you both get <strong>in</strong>to the company<br />
Lazarus: I will give them to you…if you want<br />
Anthi: You know we do not want you to give us someth<strong>in</strong>g m<strong>at</strong>erial. You will<br />
give us someth<strong>in</strong>g but… Someth<strong>in</strong>g else, an idea, particip<strong>at</strong>ion, an offer… you<br />
th<strong>in</strong>k wh<strong>at</strong> do we want!<br />
Lazarus: Wh<strong>at</strong> idea??<br />
Anthi: We can ask him to do someth<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
Alexis: You can ask him to pick up the cigarette ly<strong>in</strong>g on the floor!!<br />
Iannis: You snob us… you didn’t try <strong>at</strong> all to jo<strong>in</strong> our company…all this time you<br />
haven’t say a word… now you have the idea!!<br />
Anthi: No this isn’t his job…<br />
Lazarus: Wh<strong>at</strong> should I do?<br />
Iannis: Wh<strong>at</strong> he should do?<br />
Anthi: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you say to put him conv<strong>in</strong>ce Alexis to jo<strong>in</strong> us together??<br />
Manolis: Yes<br />
Lazarus: If he wants to come…<br />
Manolis: But if he says yes directly it will be too easy…<br />
Anthi: Alexis is a tough guy… so it will be difficult…<br />
Manolis: So Alexis will pass… he will say yes directly…<br />
Anthi: Alexis is tricky, he waits for our <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>ion and he doesn’t even try!! Come<br />
on Lazarus you can press a little bit Alexis, try it…<br />
Lazarus: But… he doesn’t want… wh<strong>at</strong> should I say?<br />
Manolis: you take him from his neck!<br />
Iannis: No. We said peacefully. Don’t kill each other!<br />
262
Lazarus: But he doesn’t want to jo<strong>in</strong>, I cannot push him…<br />
Anthi: Let’s th<strong>in</strong>k. Wh<strong>at</strong> do you do well??? Let’s see if it is enough for us!!!<br />
Lazarus: Wh<strong>at</strong> do I do well? I play good basketball!<br />
Anthi: Basketball?<br />
Manolis: Not Interest<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> all…<br />
Iannis: Ohh no!!<br />
Anthi: No? Someth<strong>in</strong>g else? Do you cook?<br />
Lazarus: Yes I cook I used to work as a chef.<br />
Anthi: Really!!<br />
Lazarus: I was work<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a restaurant. Mak<strong>in</strong>g pizza, club sandwiches, spaghetti,<br />
omelet, crepes!<br />
Anthi: Did he conv<strong>in</strong>ce you a bit? I am started to be conv<strong>in</strong>ced!<br />
Iannis: Wh<strong>at</strong> about any desserts?<br />
Lazarus: Yes crepes…<br />
Manolis: I also know how to make crepes… And I know how to cook too!!<br />
Anthi: We accept you <strong>in</strong> our time! Why are you talk<strong>in</strong>g? So he doesn’t conv<strong>in</strong>ce<br />
us. He started talk<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to me.<br />
Lazarus: I know salads. Country salads, chef salads!<br />
Anthi: Ha ha ha! Really you know how to pepare chef salad?<br />
Lazarus: These are wh<strong>at</strong> I have to say…<br />
Iannis: Mmmmm do you play music? Do you listen to music?<br />
Lazarus: I do!<br />
Manolis: Wh<strong>at</strong> k<strong>in</strong>d of music do you listen?<br />
Lazarus: Many different k<strong>in</strong>ds!<br />
Manolis: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you listen?<br />
Lazarus: Wh<strong>at</strong>ever I like…<br />
Anthi: Oh come on! You are becom<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a <strong>def</strong>ensive position… I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k<br />
we will accept you!!<br />
Lazarus: I listen to greek music.<br />
Manolis: Do you listen to Trans music?<br />
Iannis: Aa yes do you listen to trans music?<br />
Lazarus: No only a few songs. I listen to wh<strong>at</strong>ever I like!<br />
Anthi: I need a little more to be conv<strong>in</strong>ced…<br />
Iannis: Me too!<br />
Manolis: Me too!<br />
Anthi: Anyth<strong>in</strong>g else?<br />
Lazarus: I also listen to radio…<br />
Anthi: From the Internet?<br />
Lazarus: Yes.<br />
263
Anthi: Guys he is <strong>in</strong>!!!<br />
Manolis: Oh yes. Wh<strong>at</strong> about you Alexis. Wh<strong>at</strong> are you go<strong>in</strong>g to say?<br />
Alexis: I don’t want to come <strong>in</strong>to your company…<br />
Anthi: Look the youngest of the company how bully he is!<br />
Iannis: Alone by himshelf!!!<br />
264
Summer<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Antonia Lionaki<br />
Summer, how lovely you are<br />
He<strong>at</strong>, sea, sun, summer…<br />
You always rem<strong>in</strong>d us of life<br />
Swallows, sparrows and gulls<br />
They fly high<br />
Summer…<br />
From the first spr<strong>in</strong>g’s breeze till September’s ra<strong>in</strong><br />
Summer…<br />
I shall have you <strong>in</strong> my heart, oh summer<br />
And even if the w<strong>in</strong>ter comes<br />
Summer…<br />
You shall warm our hearts, oh summer<br />
with warm memories of your own time.<br />
The w<strong>in</strong>ter<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Antonia Lionaki<br />
W<strong>in</strong>ter came aga<strong>in</strong><br />
So cold, ugly, chilly<br />
With co<strong>at</strong>s, scarves and jackets<br />
There it is…alone<br />
But look! In a distance beyond, here comes the north w<strong>in</strong>d<br />
So it won’t be alone anymore…our bitter snow storm!<br />
265
266<br />
Oh, my good little pigeon<br />
Oh, my humble little pigeon<br />
Fly high <strong>in</strong> the sky<br />
Fly <strong>in</strong> a distant place<br />
Where no man knows<br />
To f<strong>in</strong>d valleys of the soul<br />
And pure w<strong>at</strong>er to dr<strong>in</strong>k<br />
To rest yourself from the road<br />
To rest and take off aga<strong>in</strong><br />
To places unknown to get…<br />
The pigeon<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Antonia Lionaki
The sun is w<strong>at</strong>ch<strong>in</strong>g tv<br />
AUTHORS<br />
Mosaik – Kethea team<br />
The Sun is w<strong>at</strong>ch<strong>in</strong>g television. He sees a man <strong>in</strong> the screen who doesn’t speak,<br />
and he changes the channel and <strong>in</strong>creases the volume. Now is better, he<br />
th<strong>in</strong>ks. He sees a film, a historical film. He changes aga<strong>in</strong> channel to see football,<br />
then news, war! He is bored. He turns off the tv and goes out <strong>in</strong> the yard. Sun sees<br />
the sun and does sunb<strong>at</strong>h.<br />
«I was a tv before», tv says. «Now I’m a big sea where people can swim». Two<br />
Suns. The first Sun fishes <strong>in</strong> the sea, the other swims. Malik the spirit br<strong>in</strong>gs air.<br />
And with the air appears an elephant from the sky because he saw two Suns.<br />
It’s gett<strong>in</strong>g dark, the Suns go for sleep. Malik the spirit goes to relax. People<br />
are pa<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g the sunset on the beach.<br />
267
Four emotions go for a trip<br />
(Joy, Happ<strong>in</strong>ess, Sadness and Fear)<br />
AUTHORS<br />
Mosaik – Kethea team<br />
They are on the bus and view the countryside.<br />
Happ<strong>in</strong>ess: it is very nice, perfect, let’s go!!!<br />
Fear: if it ra<strong>in</strong>s, wh<strong>at</strong> are we go<strong>in</strong>g to do, how we’ll come back?<br />
The Sadness agrees.<br />
Joy: Don’t worry, we will not melt!!!<br />
Happ<strong>in</strong>ess: Let’s go all together for a coffee.<br />
Then they went to a small café.<br />
Joy: Wh<strong>at</strong> nice th<strong>in</strong>gs you have here!<br />
Fear: I’m afraid to e<strong>at</strong> them, how did they make them?<br />
Sadness: Never m<strong>in</strong>d…everyth<strong>in</strong>g you say, never m<strong>in</strong>d.<br />
Sadness drunk her coffee without milk.<br />
Joy: Oh here it is!<br />
Sadness: Now I’m f<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
268
Fear didn’t dr<strong>in</strong>k or e<strong>at</strong> anyth<strong>in</strong>g. The others <strong>at</strong>e and drank.<br />
Happ<strong>in</strong>ess: Dr<strong>in</strong>k some orange juice<br />
Fear: Only if it’s <strong>in</strong> a sealed can and I can see the expir<strong>at</strong>ion day.<br />
Sadness: It is already expired. I will dr<strong>in</strong>k it.<br />
Joy and Happ<strong>in</strong>ess drunk their coffee and now they want to go.<br />
Happ<strong>in</strong>ess: Wh<strong>at</strong> are we go<strong>in</strong>g to do now? Shall we leave? How can we help you<br />
to overcome your fear, Fear?<br />
Sadness: If I dr<strong>in</strong>k this juice, you will see th<strong>at</strong> noth<strong>in</strong>g will happen<br />
Joy: Let’s leave him here… But you, Happ<strong>in</strong>ess, you can’t be happy if we are not<br />
all together.<br />
Sadness: Yes, let’s leave him here alone<br />
Fear: I’m afraid alone. I want to come with you.<br />
So all together cont<strong>in</strong>ue their way…<br />
269
270<br />
Dream journey – Rap song<br />
AUTHORS<br />
A rap song – story from the members of NOSTOS<br />
To be an Immigrant means nostalgia, new life<br />
freedom but also loss<br />
Life is a river th<strong>at</strong> flows cont<strong>in</strong>uously<br />
A river th<strong>at</strong> everyone wants, but unfortun<strong>at</strong>ely a few have it<br />
Many people try to f<strong>in</strong>d happ<strong>in</strong>ess<br />
But few people f<strong>in</strong>d it, they lost the way<br />
Life is a river th<strong>at</strong> flows cont<strong>in</strong>uously<br />
A river th<strong>at</strong> everyone wants, but unfortun<strong>at</strong>ely a few have it<br />
I dream of a magic world<br />
A world full of love where the w<strong>in</strong>ter is disappeared<br />
And spr<strong>in</strong>g will sh<strong>in</strong>e<br />
Life is a river th<strong>at</strong> flows cont<strong>in</strong>uously<br />
A river th<strong>at</strong> everyone wants, but unfortun<strong>at</strong>ely a few have it<br />
I dream a hot sun<br />
Fill<strong>in</strong>g people’s hearts
A world without war, without sorrow and pa<strong>in</strong><br />
Life is a river th<strong>at</strong> flows cont<strong>in</strong>uously<br />
A river th<strong>at</strong> everyone wants, but unfortun<strong>at</strong>ely a few have it<br />
Follow your own p<strong>at</strong>h <strong>in</strong> life<br />
And maybe you’ll f<strong>in</strong>d your dream…<br />
Somewhere is wait<strong>in</strong>g for you<br />
Have a nice trip…<br />
271
W<strong>in</strong>gs made of glass<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Fil<strong>in</strong>a Tassopoulou<br />
Her name is Emanuella and she is a dancer from Spa<strong>in</strong> who lives <strong>in</strong> Peristeri<br />
area. She is dynamic, she likes travel<strong>in</strong>g. She is fan<strong>at</strong>ic with her job, passion<strong>at</strong>e<br />
ambitious and optimistic.<br />
She has a goal to become famous and a star. She has some enemies. Two of her<br />
colleagues are very competitive towards her and they want to take her place <strong>at</strong> the<br />
danc<strong>in</strong>g contest th<strong>at</strong> will happen. They envy her and they are try<strong>in</strong>g with roundabout<br />
ways to sabotage her.<br />
Of course she has always her friends by her side support<strong>in</strong>g her: Thomas, Kelly,<br />
Kostas and Phany are some of them. There’s also her m<strong>at</strong>e, Philip who adores her.<br />
The first th<strong>in</strong>g Emanuella notices <strong>in</strong> a person is be<strong>in</strong>g open and the immediacy<br />
of a person’s character. Th<strong>at</strong> is exactly the way she also acts: be<strong>in</strong>g open, honesty,<br />
she is vivid, she has imag<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion and she is lively. She lo<strong>at</strong>hes lies, <strong>in</strong>fidelity and<br />
people who use to stay always <strong>at</strong> home, s<strong>in</strong>ce herself she is extrovert. She is afraid<br />
of snakes and spiders. Th<strong>at</strong> is why she usually works <strong>in</strong> build<strong>in</strong>gs and not outside.<br />
When she was very young she was bitten by a spider and s<strong>in</strong>ce then she is<br />
afraid of them. Along with her professionalism, her sense of humor, her impressive<br />
appearance and her adventurous mood, she manages to be almost always <strong>in</strong><br />
the spotlight, where she certa<strong>in</strong>ly desires.<br />
With the help of her m<strong>at</strong>e she is try<strong>in</strong>g to overcome her fear of flyng because<br />
she often travels but sometimes she is demanded to use th<strong>at</strong> means of transport<br />
<strong>in</strong>stead of tra<strong>in</strong>s or ships.<br />
272
She is temporarily puzzled with her son who is five years old and avoids leav<strong>in</strong>g<br />
him alone, but she has to, due to her job. She wants to become a first name<br />
<strong>in</strong> dance and manage to w<strong>in</strong> <strong>at</strong> the danc<strong>in</strong>g contest th<strong>at</strong> will take place <strong>in</strong> Athens<br />
<strong>in</strong> the few days. Because her mother wanted to become a dancer but she didn’t<br />
managed, she was pressur<strong>in</strong>g her daughter to become famous.<br />
She had many public rel<strong>at</strong>ions and managed to put her to Broadway as a lead<strong>in</strong>g<br />
lady. She spent a month do<strong>in</strong>g rehearsals and dur<strong>in</strong>g the premiere day <strong>in</strong> the<br />
middle of the performance she fall down, her leg turned backwards and broke.<br />
The audience was terrified. A doctor came up from the crowd and took her to<br />
the nearest hospital for oper<strong>at</strong>ion urgently.<br />
In the oper<strong>at</strong>ion room, th<strong>in</strong>gs were worst and doctors could longer do noth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
This was her last dance?<br />
After a long re<strong>cover</strong>y of six months she started do<strong>in</strong>g physiotherapies <strong>in</strong> her<br />
place with a tra<strong>in</strong>ee doctor.<br />
Two years l<strong>at</strong>er she started to take more care of him and see<strong>in</strong>g him <strong>in</strong> a different<br />
way. Christopher wasn’t only help<strong>in</strong>g her medic<strong>in</strong>ally but he had touched<br />
her soul and given her advices, courage and hope for the future.<br />
He himself had started feel<strong>in</strong>g her more than a friend and show<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> he<br />
cared about her more than a doctor.<br />
She let herself free and along with trust, they became a couple. Their rel<strong>at</strong>ionship<br />
went through a lot of difficulties, due to her health, but he was show<strong>in</strong>g her<br />
his love and when they got married her gift to him was the miracle he wasn’t expect<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
She could longer walk without him.<br />
They started shap<strong>in</strong>g their house as a danc<strong>in</strong>g <strong>school</strong>. They emptied the furniture<br />
and placed everywhere mirrors and bars. He had promised her th<strong>at</strong> he<br />
would helped her dance aga<strong>in</strong>. At the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g she had her objections but with<br />
his love, he conv<strong>in</strong>ced her. The first few months were tough but as long as time<br />
went by her strength was gett<strong>in</strong>g bigger and the exercises were <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Christopher was w<strong>at</strong>ch<strong>in</strong>g her admir<strong>in</strong>gly and given her his love and a lot of<br />
strength. Six months l<strong>at</strong>er they were look<strong>in</strong>g for audition. Together they went<br />
and made applic<strong>at</strong>ions <strong>in</strong> a lot of the<strong>at</strong>res for lead<strong>in</strong>g parts but <strong>in</strong> well –known<br />
film directors as well, with expensive productions. A little time has passed and<br />
they already had the first answers com<strong>in</strong>g. The only th<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> was left for her to<br />
do was to choose.<br />
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Adventures <strong>in</strong> Australia<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Fil<strong>in</strong>a Tassopoulou<br />
Penny is a n<strong>in</strong>e years old girl who lives <strong>in</strong> Australia with her mother and grandmother.<br />
She loves the sea and every weekend she goes to the sea with her grandmother.<br />
She loves music also. The last two years she is learn<strong>in</strong>g guitar.<br />
Last week she had an unpleasant adventure on the beach. Th<strong>at</strong> day she went<br />
to the beach with her grandma. There were few people. Suddenly she went far as<br />
she was swimm<strong>in</strong>g. All th<strong>at</strong> she wanted was to show to her grandma th<strong>at</strong> she was<br />
a good swimmer.<br />
But for her bad luck, as she was swimm<strong>in</strong>g, a bo<strong>at</strong> passed and lifted high<br />
waves. She couldn’t stand all this. A shark was around her but grandma hadn’t<br />
noticed anyth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
She was cry<strong>in</strong>g desper<strong>at</strong>ely and f<strong>in</strong>ally the shark bit her leg. As she was bleed<strong>in</strong>g<br />
she fa<strong>in</strong>ted and after th<strong>at</strong> she began to s<strong>in</strong>k. In few m<strong>in</strong>utes, divers from a<br />
bo<strong>at</strong> saved her and immedi<strong>at</strong>ely alerted the helicopter. At the same time, with<br />
her grandma, they took her to the hospital.<br />
Divers and doctors reassured her grandma and mom. After several days of<br />
tre<strong>at</strong>ment, she healed. Her mother hadn’t left from her side <strong>at</strong> all.<br />
When they went back home after the hospital, she was surprised from the <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>ion<br />
she had. She was <strong>in</strong>vited to play music <strong>in</strong> a big concert. All this would<br />
make her feel better and re<strong>cover</strong> early. F<strong>in</strong>ally the big day came. She was <strong>in</strong> a very<br />
good mood!!!<br />
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Her face was bright and she had gre<strong>at</strong> success!!!<br />
The tv channels had live broadcast<strong>in</strong>g from the concert th<strong>at</strong> day. After the<br />
concert, her classm<strong>at</strong>es surprised her with a rose and a wish from each one.<br />
Th<strong>at</strong> concert touched her family and her friends. It was unforgettable for her.<br />
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A story to tell…<br />
The big decision<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Ourania Tsouma<br />
Little Anthony lives <strong>in</strong> a small village th<strong>at</strong> fe<strong>at</strong>ures a small pond. This small<br />
lake is full of small fishes, small stones, which if seen from a distance <strong>in</strong> daylight<br />
look like gold. Also, there is a small house belong<strong>in</strong>g to an old woman who lives<br />
on her own…not so lonely although, as she has to take care of a big garden, a small<br />
dog, a parrot and some canaries.<br />
It is time th<strong>at</strong> Anthony would go with his family to live <strong>in</strong> the city, as his f<strong>at</strong>her<br />
found a better job and his mother would not be a housewife anymore…she<br />
would have her very first job <strong>in</strong> a workshop th<strong>at</strong> made pottery.<br />
Anthony went to say goodbye to the old woman, as he thought she was very<br />
fond of him, because everytime she was see<strong>in</strong>g him, she would cut for him the best<br />
flowers the nicest flowers of her garden. Anthony did not want to leave, he had<br />
friends <strong>in</strong> the village play<strong>in</strong>g with him <strong>in</strong> the lake, he had the trees with which he<br />
made nests for birds and also he had this strange old woman… Strange, because<br />
whenever she spoke he could not ever understand wh<strong>at</strong> she meant because it was<br />
foreign … speak<strong>in</strong>g half Greek and half «wh<strong>at</strong>»? he could not understand.<br />
As time was pass<strong>in</strong>g by, Anthony made new friends <strong>in</strong> the city, but he never<br />
forgot his friends from the village and th<strong>at</strong> old lady… So, one day he was so<br />
homesick th<strong>at</strong> he got permission from his parents to go and visit them all…<br />
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He went, he saw all his friends – eventhough they were older he recognized<br />
them – and then he went to visit the old lady.<br />
«Oh, you grew up so much, Anthony!», said the old lady.<br />
«Sorry, I cannot stay too long, as my uncle is wait<strong>in</strong>g for me <strong>at</strong> the village<br />
square to get back <strong>in</strong> the city», Anthony answered.<br />
So, the old lady cut the best flowers from her garden and told him: «Soon, you<br />
are go<strong>in</strong>g to f<strong>in</strong>d your home».<br />
As he was go<strong>in</strong>g back home, Anthony kept th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g of the old lady’s words:<br />
which was the mean<strong>in</strong>g of her words…he had a home already…<br />
The next day, Anthony went to visit a circus with his <strong>school</strong>…<br />
Years after…<br />
Anthony studied and became an archaeologist. He started work<strong>in</strong>g and he had<br />
a job offer to work <strong>in</strong> Spa<strong>in</strong>, as some people needed his help with some ancient st<strong>at</strong>ues<br />
th<strong>at</strong> were found <strong>in</strong> a small village, outside a city, surrounded by a small lake.<br />
Anthony decided to go although the small village with the small lake had no similarity<br />
with his homeplace… He met a dancer there with whom he became friend<br />
and who showed him around the city. An even<strong>in</strong>g, the dancer told him th<strong>at</strong> a very<br />
famous circus would give a performance <strong>in</strong> the city. Anthony remembered the circus<br />
he had visited as a child and decided to go with his friend. The performance<br />
was really <strong>in</strong>terest<strong>in</strong>g and funny, but Anthony got really impressed by a baller<strong>in</strong>a<br />
who was help<strong>in</strong>g a clown <strong>in</strong> his act. He was so impressed th<strong>at</strong> when the show of<br />
the circus ended, he went to meet her (he really liked th<strong>at</strong> girl…).<br />
As soon as the baller<strong>in</strong>a saw him, she said: «I’ ve been wait<strong>in</strong>g for you!».<br />
«But, you don’t know me», Anthony answered<br />
«Still… My grandmother has told me so many th<strong>in</strong>gs about you… you have<br />
so many skills th<strong>at</strong> you don’t know yet… you may work with me, if you like».<br />
Then, she expla<strong>in</strong>ed to Anthony th<strong>at</strong> she’d be <strong>in</strong> the city for another three<br />
days and then she would go. So, he had three days to make a decision…<br />
The truth is th<strong>at</strong> Anthony really liked the circus, ever s<strong>in</strong>ce he was a child. And<br />
as a grown-up, he liked even more… all this travell<strong>in</strong>g around…<br />
He got back to his hotel and although he was not so tired, he fell asleep <strong>at</strong><br />
once! But, he had a strange dream… He saw a man th<strong>at</strong> was not either tall, nor<br />
short… neither th<strong>in</strong>, nor f<strong>at</strong>… But he was dark-sk<strong>in</strong>ned and he was try<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
learn to Anthony secret tricks, th<strong>at</strong> very few knew about… He was a magician.<br />
Anthony kept hav<strong>in</strong>g the same dream for three more days. Another even<strong>in</strong>g<br />
he went to the circus to see the baller<strong>in</strong>a… He s<strong>at</strong> among the audience and waited<br />
for the show to end… Th<strong>at</strong> last show had someth<strong>in</strong>g extraord<strong>in</strong>ary and the<br />
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last acts were performed by a magician. When the magician went on stage, Anthony<br />
recognized him immedi<strong>at</strong>ely: he was the man he had seen <strong>in</strong> his dreams!<br />
The magician chose Anthony among the gre<strong>at</strong> audience to help him perform<br />
his last act. When the show was over, Anthony and the magician go together<br />
backstage… There was the baller<strong>in</strong>a wait<strong>in</strong>g for them: the magician was her<br />
brother…<br />
Still, th<strong>at</strong> was the day which Anthony would tell the baller<strong>in</strong>a about his decision…<br />
Their eyes met and Anthony realized th<strong>at</strong> he had not only found his<br />
home, but also found a gre<strong>at</strong> love <strong>in</strong> the face of the baller<strong>in</strong>a!<br />
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Introduzione<br />
La storia della Grecia è <strong>in</strong>dissolubilmente <strong>in</strong>trecci<strong>at</strong>a a quella del te<strong>at</strong>ro: qui,<br />
su questa povera propagg<strong>in</strong>e rocciosa dell’Europa, <strong>in</strong> questo paese di luce e di<br />
mare, l’azione te<strong>at</strong>rale ha visto la luce e si è svilupp<strong>at</strong>a. Talora come <strong>in</strong>terferenza<br />
politica, altre volte come altissimo valore culturale, il te<strong>at</strong>ro ha sempre difeso la<br />
sua funzione più importante, quella che il grande Aristotele pone <strong>in</strong> cima alla sua<br />
<strong>def</strong><strong>in</strong>izione di tragedia: la c<strong>at</strong>arsi, che vuol dire redenzione, terapia, pulizia morale<br />
alla port<strong>at</strong>a di tutti.<br />
Un gruppo di giovani greci, proprio nella terra <strong>in</strong> cui il Trigeo aristofanesco liberò<br />
Irene (la Pace) dai suoi ceppi, ha us<strong>at</strong>o il te<strong>at</strong>ro come fonte di supporto, come<br />
d<strong>in</strong>amico mezzo di espressione e di elaborazione. Hanno <strong>in</strong>vent<strong>at</strong>o storie, loro<br />
che spesso non hanno avuto l’opportunità di esprimere liberamente se stessi,<br />
i propri bisogni e desideri.<br />
Le paure sono affior<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong> superficie, talora i ruoli sono sembr<strong>at</strong>i troppo stretti,<br />
qualche volta ci ha sfior<strong>at</strong>i la mal<strong>in</strong>conia, ma l’<strong>in</strong>tera squadra ha <strong>in</strong>sistito caparbiamente,<br />
nel dramma e nella commedia, cercando di rappresentare la nostra vita<br />
<strong>at</strong>traverso il movimento, la danza e l’espressione verbale. Giovani a rischio di esclusione<br />
o già esclusi, <strong>in</strong>sieme agli oper<strong>at</strong>ori, hanno avuto la possibilità di parlare,<br />
cantare e impersonare ruoli che normalmente non gli appartenevano… o forse sì?<br />
Pièce, monologhi, brani poetici, ogni tipo di precipit<strong>at</strong>o dell’anima ha avuto<br />
spazio nel progetto Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re. Il viaggio è st<strong>at</strong>o lungo e difficile, prodigo<br />
di emozioni, delusioni e gioie, ma anche di nuove vie da percorrere!<br />
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Alla f<strong>in</strong>e, tutti <strong>in</strong>sieme come si addice a una squadra, facendo appello alla nostra<br />
modesta esperienza con la Storia del cucchiaio, senza soldi ma con molto entusiasmo,<br />
usando m<strong>at</strong>eriali semplici e con l’aiuto <strong>in</strong>sostituibile dei partner italiani,<br />
abbiamo f<strong>at</strong>to tesoro della nostra esperienza te<strong>at</strong>rale e d<strong>at</strong>o vita a nuovi approcci<br />
all’esclusione sociale.<br />
Grazie <strong>in</strong>f<strong>in</strong>ite, e benvenuti nel nostro paese!<br />
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Il gruppo greco di Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re
L’Albero della Vita<br />
AUTORE<br />
Sokr<strong>at</strong>is Apostolopoulos<br />
Un giorno, due bamb<strong>in</strong>i decisero di esplorare i boschi della zona <strong>in</strong> cui vivevano<br />
per cercare quello che tutti conoscevano come «l’Albero della Vita». Fu così<br />
che Logan e Victor – così si chiamavano i due – dopo essersi procur<strong>at</strong>i le provviste<br />
sufficienti, si <strong>in</strong>oltrarono nella vegetazione. Lungo il camm<strong>in</strong>o, <strong>in</strong>contrarono<br />
un grosso lupo selv<strong>at</strong>ico. Il lupo disse loro: «Se volete che io vi faccia passare, prima<br />
dovete portarmi quanta più carne potete, perché muoio di fame!».<br />
Non avendo altra scelta, i due bamb<strong>in</strong>i perlustrarono il bosco e, dopo aver ucciso<br />
un cervo e un paio di volpi, si precipitarono dal lupo per consegnarglieli. F<strong>in</strong>ito<br />
di mangiare, sazio e soddisf<strong>at</strong>to il lupo disse: «Ora siete liberi di cont<strong>in</strong>uare<br />
per la vostra strada».<br />
Dopo altre due ore di camm<strong>in</strong>o, i due bamb<strong>in</strong>i si trovarono davanti un elefante.<br />
L’elefante disse loro: «La mia proboscide è così sporca da essere divent<strong>at</strong>a rossa…<br />
Voglio che me la puli<strong>at</strong>e, così che io possa respirare di nuovo bene come un<br />
tempo».<br />
Così, dopo aver frug<strong>at</strong>o nelle loro sacche, i due bamb<strong>in</strong>i tirarono fuori spazzole<br />
e p<strong>in</strong>ze con cui pulire la proboscide. Quando la ebbero lucid<strong>at</strong>a per ben<strong>in</strong>o, l’elefante<br />
disse loro: «Oh! Grazie davvero! Ora potete cont<strong>in</strong>uare il vostro viaggio».<br />
Sempre più <strong>in</strong>quieti e impauriti, i due bamb<strong>in</strong>i decisero che sarebbe st<strong>at</strong>o meglio<br />
trovare quel benedetto Albero della Vita quanto prima. Ma quando lo ebbero<br />
quasi raggiunto, si videro comparire davanti un coniglio. Il coniglio disse loro:<br />
«Se volete proseguire nel vostro camm<strong>in</strong>o, dovete portarmi c<strong>in</strong>quanta carote».<br />
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Non avendo altra scelta, i due bamb<strong>in</strong>i perlustrarono il bosco <strong>in</strong> cerca di carote.<br />
F<strong>in</strong>almente, dopo averne raccolte c<strong>in</strong>quanta, le portarono al coniglio; il quale,<br />
delizi<strong>at</strong>o, le mangiò senza fi<strong>at</strong>are e poi li r<strong>in</strong>graziò.<br />
Questa volta i due bamb<strong>in</strong>i cercarono di procedere con maggiore cautela, così<br />
da non farsi sorprendere più da chissà quale altro animale e raggiungere la loro<br />
dest<strong>in</strong>azione, l’Albero della Vita.<br />
Ma… sorpresa! All’improvviso, una tigre sbarrò loro la strada, facendoli quasi<br />
piangere per lo spavento. La tigre disse loro di portarle duecento canar<strong>in</strong>i. Ma<br />
i bamb<strong>in</strong>i sapevano di non poterne uccidere così tanti e cercarono di spiegare alla<br />
tigre che:<br />
1) entrambi amavano molto i canar<strong>in</strong>i;<br />
2) i canar<strong>in</strong>i – e gli uccelli <strong>in</strong> generale – erano espressione della gioia div<strong>in</strong>a;<br />
3) sarebbe st<strong>at</strong>o difficile trovarne un così gran numero.<br />
Ma la tigre disse ai bamb<strong>in</strong>i: «Se non mi port<strong>at</strong>e i canar<strong>in</strong>i, non vi farò cont<strong>in</strong>uare<br />
il viaggio!».<br />
Così, i bamb<strong>in</strong>i dovettero mettersi alla ricerca. Dopo aver cacci<strong>at</strong>o duecento<br />
canar<strong>in</strong>i, li presentarono alla tigre. Questa li mandò giù <strong>in</strong> un boccone. Poi, sazia<br />
e soddisf<strong>at</strong>ta, lasciò loro proseguire il camm<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
F<strong>in</strong>almente, dopo tanto peregr<strong>in</strong>are, raggiunsero l’Albero della Vita!<br />
La sua vista li lasciò a bocca aperta… L’Albero era pieno di donne stupende!<br />
I bamb<strong>in</strong>i ne scelsero immedi<strong>at</strong>amente due, le più belle, che subito ricambiarono<br />
il loro amore e si dissero pronte a passare con loro il resto della loro vita…<br />
I bamb<strong>in</strong>i decisero dunque di sposare ognuno la sua donna e di mettere su famiglia…<br />
282<br />
…e da quel giorno vissero felici e <strong>in</strong>sieme!
Il castello<br />
AUTORE<br />
Antrianna Antonopoulou – IASIS Day Center<br />
C’era una volta una madre che viveva con i suoi due bamb<strong>in</strong>i <strong>in</strong> un piccolo villaggio.<br />
Un giorno – era il suo onomastico – i bamb<strong>in</strong>i vollero farle un regalo. Così, il<br />
m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>o prima, i due piccoli decisero di fare una passeggi<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> campagna per raccoglierle<br />
dei fiori.<br />
Che giorn<strong>at</strong>a soleggi<strong>at</strong>a! Godendosi il giretto, raccolsero tantissimi fiori: anemoni,<br />
margherite, altro ancora… ma non riuscirono a trovare rose. Ad ogni modo,<br />
cont<strong>in</strong>uarono a passeggiare f<strong>in</strong>o a che non giunsero presso un fiume. Il posto<br />
piacque loro tantissimo, così si sedettero sotto un albero, vic<strong>in</strong>o alla riva. Dopo<br />
qualche ora, affam<strong>at</strong>i, mangiarono pane e formaggio. Poi ripresero il camm<strong>in</strong>o…<br />
All’improvviso videro un lupo e, <strong>in</strong> preda al panico, corsero via più <strong>in</strong> fretta<br />
che poterono, f<strong>in</strong>ché non trovarono un riparo <strong>in</strong> cui nascondersi.<br />
Qualche ora dopo, quando il lupo si fu allontan<strong>at</strong>o, lasciarono f<strong>in</strong>almente il<br />
loro riparo.<br />
Camm<strong>in</strong>a camm<strong>in</strong>a, giunsero a un castello. Il portone si aprì, lasciando apparire<br />
una donna gentile, che li <strong>in</strong>vitò entrambi per il pranzo. Era proprio una brava<br />
signora, molto cortese. Il castello, sfarzoso, era circond<strong>at</strong>o da fiori e rose.<br />
Vedendo che la signora era tanto buona, i due bamb<strong>in</strong>i le chiesero se potevano<br />
raccogliere qualche rosa per la loro mamma. La donna acconsentì, e poi domandò<br />
loro se volevano giocare con il suo bamb<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
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Poi venne la sera, e i due piccoli dovettero congedarsi, altrimenti la loro mamma<br />
sarebbe st<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> pensiero. Ma quando tornarono a casa, la loro mamma non<br />
c’era! Preoccup<strong>at</strong>i, com<strong>in</strong>ciarono a cercarla.<br />
La trovarono dopo sei ore: era uscita a cercarli. Allora le diedero tutti i fiori che<br />
avevano raccolto e la riempirono di baci.<br />
E vissero felici e contenti!!!<br />
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Se fossi un angelo sarei felice<br />
E se venissi sulla terra<br />
Farei del bene<br />
Se io fossi tutto, tutto, tutto<br />
Non avrei più problemi<br />
Volerei via<br />
Se io fossi una rosa nel tuo giard<strong>in</strong>o<br />
Sarei felice<br />
Perché tu mi <strong>in</strong>naffieresti<br />
Se io fossi tutto, tutto, tutto<br />
Non avrei più problemi<br />
Volerei via<br />
Se fossi una nuvola <strong>in</strong> cielo<br />
Toccherei mondi f<strong>at</strong><strong>at</strong>i<br />
In cerca di te<br />
Se io fossi tutto, tutto, tutto<br />
Non avrei più problemi<br />
Volerei via.<br />
Se<br />
AUTORI<br />
IASIS Day Center<br />
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La distruzione del muro – Monologo<br />
AUTORI<br />
Membri dello IASIS Day Center<br />
Un muro si erge di fronte a me. Posso scorgerne la sommità, ma non riesco a<br />
vedere oltre.<br />
Sto cercando di trovare qualche fessura e, se ci riesco, di arrampicarmi. Le fessure<br />
sono molto piccole, e riesco ad agganciarmi a stento. Sposto una pietra e ci<br />
volo sopra. Riesco a ridurre la distanza quanto basta… ora la f<strong>in</strong>e (del muro) è<br />
più vic<strong>in</strong>a. Scavo le scanal<strong>at</strong>ure con le unghie nel tent<strong>at</strong>ivo di allargarle per potermi<br />
arrampicare meglio.<br />
Dal muro cade un m<strong>at</strong>tone, lasciando uno spazio vuoto. Ora posso raggiungere<br />
facilmente un punto più alto. Ho le unghie distrutte, ma non mi arrendo.<br />
Cont<strong>in</strong>uo a scavare fessure. Sto per raggiungere la sommità…<br />
Le unghie mi sangu<strong>in</strong>ano, ma sono sul punto di raggiungere la f<strong>in</strong>e del muro:<br />
con tutta la forza che ho nelle mani, <strong>in</strong> un balzo mi trovo <strong>in</strong> cima. Poi guardo <strong>in</strong><br />
giù… dietro il muro c’è qualcosa di unico.<br />
Una vasta area verde con coll<strong>in</strong>e e ruscelli, un lago maestoso con alberi e piante<br />
strane. Afferro i rami di un albero e lentamente scendo f<strong>in</strong>o a terra. Bevo l’acqua<br />
limpida del ruscello, non ho più sete… Qu<strong>in</strong>di camm<strong>in</strong>o verso il lago. Dentro<br />
ci nuotano diversi pesci che sc<strong>in</strong>tillano alla luce del sole. Mi r<strong>in</strong>fresco nelle sue<br />
acque, poi esco per asciugarmi. Sento la calda carezza del sole.<br />
Mentre camm<strong>in</strong>o oltre, il verde cede il passo a sabbia dor<strong>at</strong>a: all’improvviso<br />
mi trovo davanti una spiaggia sconf<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>a con ciottoli e dune di sabbia. Non sono<br />
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solo. Ci sono diverse figure. Lentamente la luce del sole svanisce, lasciando apparire<br />
la luna. Attorno a un fuoco c’è un gruppo di amici. Mi sdraio sulla sabbia calda<br />
e godo la giocosità della luna sul mare e il suono pacific<strong>at</strong>ore dei boschi che<br />
tremola nell’aria creando diverse modulazioni.<br />
Il suono di risa e bisbigli ha un tono diverso… come se fosse mischi<strong>at</strong>o allo<br />
sciabordio del mare.<br />
Forse qui posso trovare riposo. Il vento mi dà i brividi, una dolce serenità che<br />
mi <strong>in</strong>vita verso mondi onirici…<br />
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La strana storia di un cucchiaio<br />
Storia ide<strong>at</strong>a tramite giochi te<strong>at</strong>rali di espressione e improvvisazione,<br />
nel contesto del Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re Project,<br />
da tutti i membri dello IASIS Day Center<br />
Una volta, nella cuc<strong>in</strong>a di una casa <strong>at</strong>eniese, ho conosciuto un cucchiaio ansioso<br />
di condividere con me una storia. Com<strong>in</strong>ciò a dirmi che, dal giorno <strong>in</strong> cui<br />
era st<strong>at</strong>o fabbric<strong>at</strong>o a quando era f<strong>in</strong>ito <strong>in</strong> quella casa, aveva vissuto nel negozio<br />
del quartiere <strong>in</strong> cui vendevano utensili da cuc<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
SCENA I<br />
Nella vetr<strong>in</strong>a del negozio<br />
Il cucchiaio stava <strong>in</strong> una sc<strong>at</strong>ola <strong>in</strong>sieme a un altro set di cucchiai dello stesso<br />
m<strong>at</strong>eriale. Fantasticava sul f<strong>at</strong>to che un giorno sarebbe f<strong>in</strong>ito nella cuc<strong>in</strong>a di un<br />
grande chef, e che lo avrebbe aiut<strong>at</strong>o a preparare delle ottime pietanze. Nutriva<br />
<strong>in</strong>somma grandi ambizioni. Era un gran bel cucchiaio, f<strong>at</strong>to di acciaio <strong>in</strong>ossidabile,<br />
con un manico di gomma n<strong>at</strong>urale. Ma era rimasto per anni <strong>in</strong> <strong>at</strong>tesa del suo<br />
grande momento, il momento <strong>in</strong> cui avrebbe servito un vero gourmet.<br />
Un giorno, un’anziana signora entrò nel negozio con l’<strong>in</strong>tento di acquistare<br />
degli utensili per la sua cuc<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Tutti gli <strong>at</strong>trezzi erano eccit<strong>at</strong>i, non facevano che pensare: «Presto saremo fuori<br />
di qui, f<strong>in</strong>almente», ma chi fra loro avrebbe scelto l’anziana signora? Così ebbe<br />
<strong>in</strong>izio la competizione! Dopo essersi d<strong>at</strong>i una lucid<strong>at</strong>a, furono pronti a esibi-<br />
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e le loro qualità. Il proprietario del negozio, il signor Thanasis, si precipitò a servire<br />
la sua cliente.<br />
Signora: Cercavo degli utensili da cuc<strong>in</strong>a particolari, e un mio amico mi ha consigli<strong>at</strong>o<br />
il suo negozio. Mi ha detto che qui avete utensili speciali, tanto che addirittura<br />
sanno parlare!<br />
Signor Thanasis: Proprio così! Nel mio negozio ho <strong>at</strong>trezzi davvero speciali.<br />
Venga a vedere e scelga quelli che preferisce. Qui ci sono le pentole.<br />
Pentola Zias: Ciao! Adoro cuc<strong>in</strong>are la pasta e le lenticchie! E questo è il mio miglior<br />
amico, il mestolo Panagiota. Insieme lavoriamo benissimo e assicuriamo<br />
ottimi pi<strong>at</strong>ti.<br />
Signora: Questa pentola ha personalità, signor Thanasis. Anche se è di basso<br />
profilo, credo che con il giusto <strong>in</strong>coraggiamento possa mettere <strong>in</strong> mostra tutta<br />
la sua capacità.<br />
Signor Thanasis: E adesso le presento questa piccola pentola arancione. È la più<br />
bella che ho.<br />
Pentola Thalia: Ciao! Sono piccola e pr<strong>at</strong>ica, e il mio nome è Thalia. Se scegli<br />
me, prepar<strong>at</strong>i a gustare il riso e la pasta più deliziosa che tu abbia mai assaggi<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
L’unica cosa è che a volte divento <strong>in</strong>sistente perché ho fretta di cuc<strong>in</strong>are.<br />
Signora: Ehi! Proprio car<strong>in</strong>a questa pentola, la compro! E qui cos’abbiamo?<br />
Fornello: Ciao a tutti… Io sono il fornello, e sono sempre <strong>in</strong> funzione. Ho tanti<br />
bottoni per regolare sempre la temper<strong>at</strong>ura <strong>in</strong> maniera appropri<strong>at</strong>a. Comprami,<br />
ti prego! È tanto che sto qui dentro, voglio uscire! Portami via!<br />
Signora: Mmh, bel temperamento. Mi <strong>in</strong>teressa sapere chi di loro è pronto a collaborare<br />
con gli altri utensili. Sono curiosa di vedere come lavorano <strong>in</strong>sieme.<br />
Signor Thanasis: Il nostro fornello ha tanta energia, ma ha ancora non ha avuto<br />
modo di utilizzarla. Perciò spera tanto di poter diventare il suo fornello…<br />
Signora: Vedremo! Che altro ha da farmi vedere?<br />
Pentola Kalliopitsa: Ciao! Io sono una pentola d’argento e mi chiamo Kalliopitsa.<br />
Ho il pregio di essere silenziosa, collabor<strong>at</strong>iva e pulita. Mi piace che la<br />
cuc<strong>in</strong>a sia un posto tranquillo.<br />
Signora: Bravissima! Poi?<br />
Pentola Nikita: Ciao! Io sono Nikita, e sono una pentola d<strong>in</strong>amica. Resisto alle<br />
alte temper<strong>at</strong>ure e ad ogni tipo di lavaggio. Cuc<strong>in</strong>o ottimi pi<strong>at</strong>ti, perf<strong>in</strong>o<br />
dolci. Vado bene per la moussaka, il pasticcio di maccheroni, il pesce, il baklava<br />
e altro ancora.<br />
Signora: Bene… Questa pentola è molto sicura di sé! E questo?<br />
Coltello: Ciao, sono il coltello. Ho grandi idee. Sono sempre pronto, e non vedo<br />
l’ora di facilitare il lavoro agli altri. Però ti avverto, a volte posso essere pericoloso.<br />
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Signora: Che <strong>in</strong>tendi dire? Pericoloso per me e per mio nipote?<br />
Coltello: Niente paura! Faccio sempre <strong>at</strong>tenzione quando qualcuno mi usa.<br />
Signora: Chi è il prossimo?<br />
Libro di cuc<strong>in</strong>a: Ciao! Spero tanto che tu mi scelga. Sono il libro di cuc<strong>in</strong>a di<br />
Barbaritsa. Sono un magnifico ricettario, pieno di pi<strong>at</strong>ti e dolci. La mia specialità<br />
è l’<strong>in</strong>sal<strong>at</strong>a greca con aceto balsamico, capperi e origano.<br />
Signora: Sì, un libro di ricette mi aiuterà a preparare a mio nipote qualcosa di diverso<br />
dalla solita m<strong>in</strong>estra di fagioli e lenticchie. Ci penso un <strong>at</strong>timo su… E<br />
quello accanto a te?<br />
Pentol<strong>in</strong>o da caffè: Ciao nonna. Sono il pentol<strong>in</strong>o da caffè. Mi chiamano Aster<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
Ho due colori e le mie specialità sono le uova bollite.<br />
Signora: Davvero bello. Signor Thanasis, i suoi utensili da cuc<strong>in</strong>a sono veramente<br />
unici. Hanno tutti car<strong>at</strong>tere, capacità e voglia di migliorare. Sono certa<br />
che mi aiuteranno molto <strong>in</strong> cuc<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
L’anziana signora era un po’ confusa da tutti quegli utensili: non sapeva cosa<br />
scegliere.<br />
Signora: Purtroppo non ho abbastanza soldi per tutte queste cose.<br />
Poi, all’improvviso, vide un cucchiaio e pensò che un set di cucchiai era proprio<br />
quello di cui aveva bisogno. Così, senza pensarci due volte, li acquistò.<br />
Signor Thanasis: Ma questo cucchiaio non si è present<strong>at</strong>o!<br />
Era molto sorpreso…<br />
Signora: Be’, è un bel cucchiaio, f<strong>at</strong>to con tutti i crismi, e sta bene con gli altri<br />
cucchiai.<br />
Cucchiai: F<strong>in</strong>almente ce l’abbiamo f<strong>at</strong>ta! Andremo <strong>in</strong> una cuc<strong>in</strong>a!<br />
SCENA SECONDA<br />
Nella cuc<strong>in</strong>a della signora<br />
La signora portò dunque il cucchiaio e i cucchia<strong>in</strong>i (che non reggevano dalla<br />
contentezza) nella sua cuc<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Una volta lì, il cucchiaio fu accolto dagli altri utensili:<br />
«Ti <strong>in</strong>segneremo a preparare le zuppe e le lenticchie!».<br />
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«Ci laveremo <strong>in</strong>sieme nel lavabo! Sarà fantastico!».<br />
«Qui si cuc<strong>in</strong>a splendidamente!».<br />
«Benvenuto!».<br />
Ma il cucchiaio era deluso! «Qui ci sono solo pos<strong>at</strong>e grossolane. Tutto quello<br />
che sanno fare è mescolare zuppe e lenticchie. E io non sono st<strong>at</strong>o fabbric<strong>at</strong>o per<br />
occuparmi di fagioli, ma per pi<strong>at</strong>ti di classe», disse fra le lacrime. I cucchia<strong>in</strong>i cercarono<br />
di consolarlo, ma lui non voleva sentire nessuno. Con il cuore gonfio e la<br />
testa confusa dai pensieri, il cucchiaio si disse che era meglio chiudersi <strong>in</strong> un cassetto<br />
e riflettere un po’.<br />
SCENA III<br />
Nel cassetto<br />
Così si chiuse <strong>in</strong> fondo al cassetto, al buio, dove non poteva vedere gli altri<br />
cucchiai del negozio. Rimase lì a lungo da solo, conv<strong>in</strong>to che fosse la cosa migliore<br />
da fare. E lì, nell’oscurità, mille pensieri presero a turb<strong>in</strong>argli <strong>in</strong> mente:<br />
«Meglio qui che là fuori».<br />
«Io ho altri obiettivi».<br />
«Mi <strong>in</strong>vidiano tutti».<br />
«Mi augurano il peggio».<br />
«Mi guardano strano».<br />
«Meglio starne lontani, non vorrei che mi preparassero qualche brutto scherzo».<br />
Poco alla volta, però, com<strong>in</strong>ciò a sentirsi sempre più ansioso e impaurito.<br />
Smarrì la sua bellezza e la sua lucentezza, senza che fosse <strong>in</strong> grado di capirne il motivo.<br />
Si irrigidì, perse il colore. Non si riconosceva più. Gli altri utensili non osavano<br />
avvic<strong>in</strong>arsi, perché lui, ormai, era il cucchiaio strano. Nessuno poteva comprendere<br />
la sua sofferenza. Tutto quello che gli restava da fare era cantare. Se ne<br />
stava fermo per ore, <strong>in</strong>tonando canti strampal<strong>at</strong>i e sconosciuti…<br />
«La la la la, tutti gli altri a lavorare e io qui solo soletto chiuso dentro il mio cassetto…<br />
La la la la».<br />
SCENA IV<br />
Il coltello<br />
Ma un giorno avvenne qualcosa di nuovo. Sentito il suo canto, un coltello com<strong>in</strong>ciò<br />
ad andargli dietro, <strong>in</strong>tonando le stesse strane <strong>parole</strong> nello stesso strano<br />
motivo. Il cucchiaio ne rimase molto colpito. Il coltello sembrava veramente <strong>in</strong>-<br />
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teress<strong>at</strong>o a lui, tanto da conv<strong>in</strong>cerlo a dargli fiducia e a metterlo a parte sempre<br />
più spesso dei suoi pensieri.<br />
Dopo tanta solitud<strong>in</strong>e, il cucchiaio sentì crescere una nuova speranza. Non era<br />
più solo: aveva un amico, adesso.<br />
Anche gli altri utensili gli si str<strong>in</strong>sero <strong>in</strong>torno per <strong>in</strong>coraggiarlo. Il cucchiaio ritrovò<br />
così tutto il colore e la lucentezza perduti. Ripensò al tempo pass<strong>at</strong>o dentro<br />
il negozio e scoppiò a piangere.<br />
«Che stupido sono st<strong>at</strong>o!», disse. «Nutrivo così grandi progetti per me. Pensavo<br />
che tutti mi volessero male, e che non potessi fidarmi di nessuno. E per cosa?<br />
Mi sento così triste!».<br />
«Le cose possono cambiare», gli disse il coltello. «Guarda fuori dal cassetto: c’è<br />
la vita, c’è la cuc<strong>in</strong>a che hai sempre sogn<strong>at</strong>o! È il momento di dimostrare quello<br />
che sai fare».<br />
Il coltello cercò di aprire il cassetto per consentire al cucchiaio di uscirne. Non<br />
riuscendoci da solo, però, chiese il suo aiuto. Sulle prime il cucchiaio era spavent<strong>at</strong>o:<br />
ma l’<strong>in</strong>coraggiamento di tutti gli utensili lo conv<strong>in</strong>se a saltare fuori dal cassetto<br />
<strong>in</strong>sieme al coltello.<br />
SCENA V<br />
Fuori dal cassetto<br />
Non ci sono <strong>parole</strong> per descrivere quanto fu tremendo quel salto. Alla f<strong>in</strong>e,<br />
però, si ritrovarono entrambi ai piedi dell’anziana signora.<br />
La quale si era già dimentic<strong>at</strong>a del suo cucchiaio. «Oh, il mio ador<strong>at</strong>o cucchiaio!<br />
E io che pensavo di averlo perso!», esclamò. Dopo averlo raccolto, lo utilizzò<br />
per mescolare la zuppa di fagioli. La zuppa era calda e saporita, e il cucchiaio<br />
provò un sussulto di felicità. «È bello condividere le esperienze con gli altri, ed è<br />
bello collaborare per preparare tante gustose pietanze», disse. «Vi andrebbe di<br />
imparare qualche ricetta da gourmet?».<br />
«Sììì!», esclamarono gli altri utensili, accogliendo con gioia il suo ritorno <strong>in</strong> cuc<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Poi arrivarono i nipot<strong>in</strong>i dell’anziana signora: «Cos’hai f<strong>at</strong>to di buono,<br />
nonna?», chiesero. Com’erano affam<strong>at</strong>i! Quando ebbero f<strong>in</strong>ito, misero il cucchiaio<br />
nel lavabo <strong>in</strong>sieme agli altri utensili… Per la prima volta, anche lui poté<br />
giocare con gli amici sotto l’acqua. Che sensazione di pace e di felicità!<br />
Non sarebbe rimasto mai più da solo!<br />
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Verso la speranza…<br />
AUTORE<br />
Antriana Antonopoulou – Day Center IASIS<br />
Avete mai visto bamb<strong>in</strong>i di c<strong>in</strong>que, sei, otto anni azzuffarsi per un po’ di far<strong>in</strong>a?<br />
Sì… un po’ di far<strong>in</strong>a. Con una manci<strong>at</strong>a di far<strong>in</strong>a le loro madri potrebbero<br />
preparare qualche pasticcio con cui <strong>in</strong>gannare la loro fame. Se fosse rimasto del<br />
cibo sulle loro tavole quasi sempre vuote, la loro gioia sarebbe st<strong>at</strong>a doppia, perché<br />
quel cibo sarebbe parso tantissimo ai loro occhi, e comunque sufficiente a<br />
placare la loro tremenda fame.<br />
Quelli furono anni difficili nell’isola deserta <strong>in</strong> cui vivevano. Maritsa era la più<br />
grande dei figli. Era lei che si prendeva cura dei fr<strong>at</strong>elli e delle sorelle.<br />
Una volta cresciuta, decise di venire ad Atene.<br />
Nonostante la sposs<strong>at</strong>ezza accumul<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> tutti quegli anni, cercò di trovarsi un<br />
lavoro; dopo pochi giorni, trovò un impiego come domestica presso un’abitazione.<br />
Il giorno seguente, d<strong>at</strong>o che non aveva scelta, si presentò. Bussò due volte alla<br />
porta, e un’anziana signora venne ad aprire. Era antip<strong>at</strong>ica e strana.<br />
L’anziana signora le chiese come se la cavasse nelle faccende domestiche. Poi<br />
si disse d’accordo sulla paga e uscì per andare al lavoro.<br />
Maritsa si mise un grembiule per proteggersi gli abiti, dal momento che ne aveva<br />
pochi. A causa della stanchezza accumul<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> tutti quegli anni, si sentiva una<br />
vecchia.<br />
Un giorno, mentre stava stirando, il figlio dell’anziana signora entrò nella<br />
stanza <strong>in</strong> cui si trovava lei. Si presentò: il suo nome era Thanasis. Dopo quel gior-<br />
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no, com<strong>in</strong>ciò a chiederle di uscire per una passeggi<strong>at</strong>a o per bere qualcosa. Lei era<br />
agit<strong>at</strong>a. Una sera, andarono <strong>in</strong>sieme a una festa.<br />
Lei non poteva credere ai suoi occhi… Così tanto cibo, così tante bevande!<br />
Che splendida ser<strong>at</strong>a! Parlarono a lungo delle loro vite. Thanasis sembrava felice<br />
ed elettrizz<strong>at</strong>o, ma era così pessimista di <strong>in</strong>dole!<br />
Giorno dopo giorno, Maritsa com<strong>in</strong>ciò a sentirsi preoccup<strong>at</strong>a e poco sicura<br />
nel suo lavoro, tanto che l’anziana signora pensò di licenziarla.<br />
Un giorno, mentre camm<strong>in</strong>ava per strada, Maritsa <strong>in</strong>contrò un ragazzo alto,<br />
bellissimo: il suo nome era Alex, e lavorava come contabile <strong>in</strong> un’azienda. I due<br />
str<strong>in</strong>sero amicizia, e lui la propose ai suoi superiori, che cercavano una segretaria.<br />
Alla f<strong>in</strong>e si <strong>in</strong>namorarono e si sposarono. Dal momento che era anche facoltoso,<br />
fu Alex a occuparsi delle spese per le nozze. Risolti tutti i suoi problemi, dopo<br />
così tanta sofferenza, fecero uno splendido m<strong>at</strong>rimonio e vissero felici e contenti!<br />
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Personaggi<br />
Il gioco della vita<br />
AUTORI<br />
Alperti Ioanna, Korella Eleni e i membri della Casa Protetta IASIS<br />
Antigone: lavora come dottoressa specializzanda <strong>in</strong> stitichezza ed è la sorella<br />
m<strong>in</strong>ore di Violetta.<br />
Violetta: lavora <strong>in</strong> un negozio di fiori e ama il suo lavoro. Ha messo a punto un<br />
sistema audio che consente ai fiori di ascoltare la musica.<br />
Dimitris: ex-agricoltore, è arriv<strong>at</strong>o ad Atene con l’idea di farsi una vita migliore.<br />
Odysseus: tecnico <strong>in</strong>form<strong>at</strong>ico, è grande amico di Kostas.<br />
Paraskevas: operaio edile, ha un fr<strong>at</strong>ello che non vede da vent’anni.<br />
Maria: è proprietaria di una pompa di benz<strong>in</strong>a, dove lavora con il fidanz<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Chris: arm<strong>at</strong>ore, dopo aver vissuto per molti anni al Cairo ha f<strong>at</strong>to ritorno alla<br />
n<strong>at</strong>ia Grecia.<br />
Chrisafgi: casal<strong>in</strong>ga e zia di Aspasia.<br />
Aspasia: <strong>in</strong>segnante, si è trasferita da Kalavrita, un piccolo centro del Peloponneso,<br />
<strong>in</strong> una scuola di Atene.<br />
Achilleas: è il fornaio del quartiere, e il suo panificio è un punto di <strong>in</strong>contro<br />
per tutti.<br />
Dionysis: lavora come netturb<strong>in</strong>o a Peristeri.<br />
Kostas: lavora come meccanico nella pompa di benz<strong>in</strong>a della fidanz<strong>at</strong>a, Maria.<br />
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Siamo a Peristeri. Sono le c<strong>in</strong>que del m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>o, e Achilleas ha già messo a cuocere<br />
le pagnotte nel forno. È molto soddisf<strong>at</strong>to per come va il lavoro, tanto che ha<br />
preso <strong>in</strong> considerazione l’idea di mettere un annuncio sul giornale per cercare un<br />
aiutante. Nel corso della giorn<strong>at</strong>a sono molte le persone che passano dal forno e<br />
dal negozio. Intorno alle dieci si presenta il suo amico Dimitris, che non vedeva<br />
dai tempi della sua vacanza sull’isola di Lefkada. Dimitris gli dice che ha deciso di<br />
lasciare Lefkada e il suo villaggio per trasferirsi ad Atene <strong>in</strong> cerca di lavoro, così da<br />
poter aiutare economicamente la sua famiglia. Poi chiede al suo amico se conosce<br />
qualcuno a cui poter chiedere un lavoro. Achilleas gli offre un impiego nel suo<br />
forno. Dimitris accetta entusiasta. Dopo un po’, Achilleas comunica a Dimitris<br />
che deve assentarsi per andare a pagare delle bollette all’ufficio postale, e che lo lascerà<br />
da solo per qualche m<strong>in</strong>uto. Dimitris non si perde d’animo: il lavoro è impegn<strong>at</strong>ivo,<br />
ma gli piace. Qualche m<strong>in</strong>uto dopo, fa la sua comparsa Antigone. Volendo<br />
conoscere meglio il nuovo vic<strong>in</strong>o, la donna gli pone qualche domanda.<br />
A pochi metri di distanza, più o meno alla stessa ora, alla pompa di benz<strong>in</strong>a gli<br />
sbigottiti Kostas e Maria si danno un gran da fare per servire Christos, giunto a<br />
bordo di un vero e proprio bolide. Christos, che è appena rientr<strong>at</strong>o dal Cairo, ha<br />
<strong>in</strong> mano un foglietto di carta con su scritto un <strong>in</strong>dirizzo, e chiede <strong>in</strong>formazioni<br />
per poter raggiungere la sua dest<strong>in</strong>azione. Qu<strong>in</strong>di racconta ai due di essere greco<br />
ma di aver vissuto per molti anni al Cairo, dove ha f<strong>at</strong>to affari e si è arricchito.<br />
Poi afferma di aver deciso di tornare <strong>in</strong> Grecia per trovare Paraskevas, il fr<strong>at</strong>ello<br />
che non vede da vent’anni. Tocc<strong>at</strong>i dalla sua storia, i due ragazzi si offrono di aiutarlo<br />
con piacere.<br />
Nella piazza di Peristeri c’è il negozio di fiori di Violetas. Quest’ultima è molto<br />
turb<strong>at</strong>a, perché il sistema audio si è rotto e adesso lei ha paura che i fiori possano<br />
appassire. Chiede perciò aiuto a Odysseus, che si occupa di elettronica. Nonostante<br />
il suo impegno per riparare il danno, sembra che ci vorranno diverse ore.<br />
Nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo, Violetas deve preparare gli addobbi floreali con cui decorare la<br />
chiesa <strong>in</strong> cui avranno luogo le nozze tra Maria e Kostas.<br />
Intorno alle dodici e mezzo, Achilleas ritorna al panificio e dice a Dimitris che<br />
dovrà assentarsi per qu<strong>at</strong>tro giorni. Dimitris gli risponde di non preoccuparsi,<br />
perché al forno ci penserà lui. Dopo averlo r<strong>in</strong>grazi<strong>at</strong>o, Achilleas torna a casa per<br />
prepararsi alla partenza. Mezz’ora dopo entra Dionysis, che <strong>in</strong> quel momento si<br />
trova <strong>in</strong> pausa dal lavoro. E, mentre quest’ultimo sta discutendo con Dimitris, nel<br />
panificio entra anche Aspasia. La donna saluta entrambi e racconta loro che quello<br />
è il suo primo giorno lì, ad Atene, e che ha ottenuto un trasferimento da Kalavrita<br />
a una scuola di Peristeri. Poi chiede appunto ai due dove si trovi l’edificio scolastico.<br />
Incant<strong>at</strong>o dalla bellezza di Aspasia, Dionysis si offre di condurla personalmente<br />
f<strong>in</strong>o alla scuola. Quando Aspasia gli chiede se conosce qualcuno che affit-<br />
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ti una casa, Dionysis le parla del suo amico Odysseus, che poi chiama immedi<strong>at</strong>amente<br />
per organizzare un <strong>in</strong>contro. Odysseus dice loro di trovarsi nel negozio di<br />
Violetas, sulla piazza, nel caso <strong>in</strong> cui vogliano passare a trovarlo. Aspasia e Dionysis<br />
si dirigono verso il negozio. Arriv<strong>at</strong>i lì, si imb<strong>at</strong>tono <strong>in</strong> Maria e Violetas, impegn<strong>at</strong>e<br />
a discutere del prezzo dei boccioli, mentre Odysseus è all’opera sotto luci e<br />
lampad<strong>in</strong>e. Dionysis fa le sue raccomandazioni e poi lascia che Odysseus e Aspasia<br />
parl<strong>in</strong>o della casa e si mettano d’accordo sul prezzo. Quando Dionysis propone<br />
ad Aspasia di andare al c<strong>in</strong>ema <strong>in</strong> ser<strong>at</strong>a, lei accetta con gioia.<br />
Alle c<strong>in</strong>que del pomeriggio Aspasia va a trovare Paraskevas e Chrisafgi, i soli<br />
parenti che ha ad Atene. I due la <strong>in</strong>vitano a mangiare da loro e a trasferirsi lì f<strong>in</strong>o<br />
a che non avrà affitt<strong>at</strong>o una casa. Aspasia rifiuta cortesemente, dicendo loro di aver<br />
già pag<strong>at</strong>o per un soggiorno di tre notti <strong>in</strong> albergo. Tuttavia, confessa di voler<br />
cont<strong>at</strong>tare Antigone per via di un problema di stitichezza. Chrisafgi chiama dunque<br />
Antigone, le spiega il problema della nipote e fissa un appuntamento per le<br />
sei e mezzo. Aspasia si tr<strong>at</strong>tiene dalla zia f<strong>in</strong>o alle sei e un quarto, e poi raggiunge<br />
il dispensario di Antigone, poco distante. Dopo che le ha esposto la situazione, la<br />
dottoressa le prescrive un lass<strong>at</strong>ivo, suggerendole di rivolgersi a uno psicologo nel<br />
caso <strong>in</strong> cui il problema sia di n<strong>at</strong>ura psicologica. In effetti Aspasia è molto triste<br />
da quando è arriv<strong>at</strong>a ad Atene, perché il trasferimento non era nei suoi piani.<br />
Sono ormai lei sei e mezzo del pomeriggio e, a bordo dell’auto di Christos,<br />
Kostas e Maria vanno a trovare Paraskevas. A Christos sembra di volare, mentre<br />
Kostas e Maria si sentono come <strong>in</strong> un film. Alle sette circa arrivano davanti alla<br />
casa di Paraskevas. Chrisafgi è <strong>in</strong> cortile a stendere il buc<strong>at</strong>o. Non appena vede<br />
quel bolide, le cade dalle mani la bac<strong>in</strong>ella con tutti i vestiti. Udendo le sua grida,<br />
il marito esce di casa. Alla vista del fr<strong>at</strong>ello, Paraskevas si commuove, e i due uom<strong>in</strong>i<br />
scoppiano a piangere uno nelle braccia dell’altro. Chrisafgi <strong>in</strong>vita tutti <strong>in</strong><br />
casa per mangiare della torta al l<strong>at</strong>te appena f<strong>at</strong>ta.<br />
Un’ora dopo, Odysseus porta a term<strong>in</strong>e il suo lavoro nel negozio di Violetas.<br />
Quando, dopo otto ore di scrupoloso lavoro, chiede il suo compenso a Violetas,<br />
quest’ultima trova da ridire sul f<strong>at</strong>to che sia troppo alto, e gli chiede uno sconto,<br />
regalandogli <strong>in</strong> cambio un bel vaso.<br />
Intorno alle otto, dopo una giorn<strong>at</strong>a dura e moviment<strong>at</strong>a, Kostas e Maria fanno<br />
ritorno a casa. Maria si mette a cuc<strong>in</strong>are e Kostas apparecchia la tavola.<br />
Intanto, nella sua camera d’albergo, Aspasia si prepara per uscire con Dionysis.<br />
La ragazza è molto preoccup<strong>at</strong>a per quel cambio di vita. I suoi pensieri vanno a<br />
Kalavrita e alla famiglia. Il cuore le dice di tornare a casa, ma la logica risponde che<br />
ad Atene la sua vita sarà migliore. Alla f<strong>in</strong>e decide di andare al c<strong>in</strong>ema e rimandare<br />
questi pensieri al giorno dopo. Nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo, anche Dionysis si sta preparando<br />
per l’appuntamento, entusiasta e agit<strong>at</strong>o. All’improvviso si rende conto di es-<br />
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sere rimasto senza soldi. Un secondo dopo si precipita giù dalle scale per andare<br />
dal suo amico Odysseus, che gli presta quanto chiede e gli augura una piacevole ser<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Poi Dionysis reggiunge di corsa il c<strong>in</strong>ema, dove Aspasia, che lo aspetta da un<br />
m<strong>in</strong>uto e 27 secondi, si è già <strong>in</strong>nervosita e gli fa un po’ di scena. Con qualche parol<strong>in</strong>a<br />
dolce, però, Dionysis la fa tranquillizzare. Inf<strong>in</strong>e, entrano <strong>in</strong>sieme.<br />
Alle undici di sera Violetas e Dimitris sono gli ultimi del quartiere a chiudere<br />
i loro negozi e a far ritorno a casa. Aspasia e Dionysis si salutano dandosi appuntamento<br />
per il giorno dopo. Per i nostri eroi è tempo di riposare. Ora le strade sono<br />
deserte, <strong>in</strong> <strong>at</strong>tesa del gioco del giorno dopo.<br />
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In fondo al mare<br />
AUTORI<br />
Équipe di oper<strong>at</strong>ori dei servizi della giustizia m<strong>in</strong>orile<br />
e misure cautelari non detentive<br />
In un mondo lontano dal nostro, un bimbo decise di fare una passeggi<strong>at</strong>a nel<br />
più strano dei fondali mar<strong>in</strong>i. Era un fondale color<strong>at</strong>o da specie di ogni genere.<br />
Squali, delf<strong>in</strong>i, polpi, pesci e conchiglie. Mentre nuotava, trovò un pesciol<strong>in</strong>o felice<br />
nella sua casa. La casa del pesciol<strong>in</strong>o era davvero molto bella. I due si misero<br />
a chiacchierare. «Incontrerai molti dei miei amici, qui. Un po’ più su troverai il<br />
signor polpo e i delf<strong>in</strong>i. Ma fai <strong>at</strong>tenzione, perché mi dicono che il tempo non è<br />
molto buono, e capita spesso che qualche grosso rifiuto venga giù a sporcarci le<br />
case», disse il pesciol<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Quando il bamb<strong>in</strong>o fece per andarsene, il pesciol<strong>in</strong>o gli disse: «Aspetta! Non<br />
ti ho ancora parl<strong>at</strong>o di un altro pericolo. Stai <strong>at</strong>tento agli ami, o a cose del genere…<br />
sembrano bocconc<strong>in</strong>i deliziosi, ma… ti portano via con sé, lontano. È st<strong>at</strong>o<br />
così che hanno preso la mamma delf<strong>in</strong>o, e che i suoi piccoli sono rimasti soli».<br />
Il bimbo sorrise come per dire che sapeva di cosa stesse parlando il pesciol<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Dopo averlo r<strong>in</strong>grazi<strong>at</strong>o, lo salutò. In effetti, lui tutte quelle cose le conosceva già.<br />
Alla f<strong>in</strong>e del suo viaggio, <strong>in</strong>contrò il signor Acido. Questo era il suo soprannome.<br />
Aveva la casa più bella fra tutti gli animali mar<strong>in</strong>i, ma non ci stava mai dentro.<br />
Cont<strong>in</strong>uava però a perlustrare la zona, <strong>in</strong> modo da impedire a chiunque di<br />
avvic<strong>in</strong>arsi. «Che pecc<strong>at</strong>o!», pensò il bamb<strong>in</strong>o. «Ha la casa più bella di tutti, ma<br />
non può rallegrarsene. Come può vivere senza amici?».<br />
Poi il viaggio giunse al term<strong>in</strong>e, e il nostro piccolo amico tornò dalla sua famiglia.<br />
Decise però di non parlare a nessuno della sua avventura e, prima di aprire la<br />
299
porta di casa, disse per l’ultima volta: «Guarda un po’! Era tutto differente, lì, eppure<br />
così bello! Ogni pesce era diverso dall’altro, ma c’era spazio per tutti, su quel<br />
fondale variop<strong>in</strong>to!».<br />
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Rap giovane n. 1<br />
AUTORI<br />
Équipe di oper<strong>at</strong>ori dei servizi della giustizia m<strong>in</strong>orile<br />
e misure cautelari non detentive<br />
Odio il te<strong>at</strong>ro, le strade <strong>in</strong>sudici<strong>at</strong>e di domenica, la gente che mi dà l’orticaria.<br />
Odio i ricchi che vanno all’opera, così pieni di sé ma poi così feriti.<br />
Odio mangiare trippa dopo una notte <strong>in</strong>sonne, la puzza dell’aceto.<br />
Odio gli sbirri, che ci dovrebbero proteggere, e i razzisti dall’altra parte della<br />
strada che aspettano la giunta.<br />
Tenetevi la vostra noia, pivelli! Io sono vecchio, vedo le cose <strong>in</strong> un altro modo.<br />
Fanculo alla scuola, agli <strong>in</strong>segnanti e ai preti!<br />
Odio chi sputa sentenze anche quando non ha niente da dire, quelli che offrono<br />
consigli solo per sprecare il fi<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Niente soldi, niente auto né lavoro, vado al mare con il bus.<br />
La spiaggia è un cas<strong>in</strong>o, merda,<br />
e tutta questa gente senza pr<strong>in</strong>cìpi che se ne prende cura.<br />
Bugie dappertutto, dappertutto ipocrisia, il cas<strong>in</strong>o è nella mia testa.<br />
Tu fai tanto lo spaccone, e le sigarette sono troppe, ma <strong>in</strong>somma: alla f<strong>in</strong>e sei<br />
un uomo o una donna?<br />
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Rap giovane n. 2<br />
AUTORI<br />
Équipe di oper<strong>at</strong>ori dei servizi della giustizia m<strong>in</strong>orile<br />
e misure cautelari non detentive<br />
C’è sporcizia ovunque nelle strade, nelle scuole e ancora più sugli autobus.<br />
E io sono allergico allo sporco.<br />
Sono stanco di tutte le menzogne, di tutto questo schifo delirante.<br />
Ne ho abbastanza del p<strong>at</strong>tume che esce di bocca ai ricchi idioti.<br />
C’è un pessimo odore nelle strade, nelle case e nelle piazze,<br />
nei te<strong>at</strong>ri, all’opera e nei caffè <strong>in</strong> cui tutti cercano la salvezza.<br />
Siamo pesci, <strong>in</strong> questa vita, e ci stanno sp<strong>in</strong>gendo verso spiagge <strong>in</strong>sozz<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
È lì che vogliono vederci.<br />
Vanno <strong>in</strong> tv e parlano nei telegiornali: gente ricca, razzisti, giornalisti e cacciaballe.<br />
Parlano e parlano, e mai nulla che abbia un senso.<br />
Io sono stanco di tutte ’ste stronz<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Tutti che cercano se stessi, un amico, il fr<strong>at</strong>ello,<br />
la propria identità, i propri ideali.<br />
E io sono allergico allo sporco.<br />
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Conv<strong>in</strong>cimi<br />
AUTORI<br />
Équipe di oper<strong>at</strong>ori dei servizi della giustizia m<strong>in</strong>orile<br />
e misure cautelari non detentive<br />
Un’azienda molto d<strong>in</strong>amica e selettiva, che sceglie i suoi elementi uno per uno.<br />
La procedura di selezione è molto accur<strong>at</strong>a, e <strong>in</strong>clude anche un colloquio personale.<br />
La commissione è composta da due persone <strong>in</strong>caric<strong>at</strong>e di saggiare i candid<strong>at</strong>i,<br />
chiedendo loro per quale motivo dovrebbero essere assunti. Questi ultimi<br />
devono <strong>in</strong>somma conv<strong>in</strong>cerli di essere all’altezza dell’azienda. I candid<strong>at</strong>i, nervosi,<br />
aspettano il momento giusto. Nessuno osa <strong>in</strong>iziare. Manolis non ce la fa più, e<br />
con un espediente cerca di unirsi al gruppo dei primi. Gli esam<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ori lo riprendono<br />
e gliene chiedono il motivo. Scaltro e <strong>in</strong>telligente come sempre, lui si mette<br />
a negoziare con loro, mettendoli a parte del suo problema: del f<strong>at</strong>to che dovrà<br />
partire per le vacanze, e di come gli mancheranno. Chiede <strong>in</strong>somma un favore,<br />
perché dovrà star via per circa un mese. Ma la commissione non si fa conv<strong>in</strong>cere.<br />
Allora lui ricorre a tutti gli espedienti, f<strong>in</strong>o a promettere loro dei regali. Alla f<strong>in</strong>e<br />
gli esam<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ori cedono: lo prendono immedi<strong>at</strong>amente, senza nemmeno sottoporlo<br />
al colloquio. Manolis è fortun<strong>at</strong>o, ce l’ha f<strong>at</strong>ta, è uno dell’azienda. Si sente<br />
forte! Ora è lui a prendere le decisioni! Ma è tempo di com<strong>in</strong>ciare. Le domande<br />
agli altri due candid<strong>at</strong>i sono <strong>in</strong>cessanti:<br />
Anthi: Questo ci ha compr<strong>at</strong>i per bene. Cosa dirà il prossimo candid<strong>at</strong>o?<br />
Iannis: Ok, sentiamo cos’hai da dire.<br />
Lazarus: Cosa volete che vi dica? Non so se sono un bravo ragazzo…<br />
Anthi: E questo dovrebbe bastarci?<br />
303
Iannis: Certo che non ci basta.<br />
Manolis: Coraggio, di’ qualcos’altro.<br />
Anthi: Vogliamo qualcosa di più clamoroso! Cosa <strong>in</strong>tendi per «bravo ragazzo»?<br />
Lazarus: Ve lo proverò…<br />
Manolis: Così non entrerai mai a far parte di quest’azienda.<br />
Lazarus: Vi comprerò qualcosa di costoso.<br />
Anthi: Ecco che cercano di corromperci di nuovo…<br />
Manolis: Mi sto arrabbiando. Non entrerai mai <strong>in</strong> quest’azienda.<br />
Anthi: Oooooooh!<br />
Lazarus: Non so cosa dire…<br />
Anthi: Cosa potrebbe farci comodo?<br />
Manolis: Un assegno di un milione…<br />
Lazarus: Lo avrete.<br />
Manolis: Oh, allora due milioni!!<br />
Iannis: Con due milioni, l’azienda vi prende entrambi.<br />
Lazarus: Ve li farò avere… se volete.<br />
Anthi: Sai che non vogliamo che tu ci dia qualcosa di m<strong>at</strong>eriale. Ci darai qualcosa,<br />
ma… Un’altra cosa: un’idea, un contributo, una proposta… Pensa a cosa<br />
potremmo volere!<br />
Lazarus: Che idea??<br />
Anthi: Possiamo chiedergli di fare qualcosa…<br />
Alexis: Potete chiedergli di raccogliere le cicche di sigaretta!<br />
Iannis: Ci snobbi… Non hai prov<strong>at</strong>o a far parte della nostra azienda… In tutto<br />
questo tempo non hai detto una parola… Adesso hai un’idea!!<br />
Anthi: No, questo non è il suo lavoro…<br />
Lazarus: Cosa dovrei fare?<br />
Iannis: Cosa dovrebbe fare?<br />
Anthi: Che ne dici di fare <strong>in</strong> modo di conv<strong>in</strong>cere Alexis a un <strong>in</strong>contro?<br />
Manolis: Sì.<br />
Lazarus: Se vuole venire…<br />
Manolis: Ma se dice subito di sì sarà troppo facile…<br />
Anthi: Alexis è un tipo duro… sarà complic<strong>at</strong>o…<br />
Manolis: Alexis dirà subito di sì…<br />
Anthi: Alexis è furbo, si aspetta la proposta e lui non ci proverà nemmeno!! Coraggio,<br />
Lazarus, puoi mettere un po’ di pressione addosso ad Alexis. Almeno<br />
provaci…<br />
Lazarus: Ma… se non vuole… cosa dovrei fare?<br />
Manolis: Prendilo dal collo!<br />
Iannis: No. Niente violenza, abbiamo detto. Non ammazz<strong>at</strong>evi l’un l’altro…<br />
304
Lazarus: Ma se non vuole non posso sp<strong>in</strong>gerlo a…<br />
Anthi: Pensiamoci. Cos’è che sai fare bene? Vediamo se è sufficiente per noi!<br />
Lazarus: Cosa faccio bene? Sono bravo a basket!<br />
Anthi: Basket?<br />
Manolis: Non mi piace…<br />
Iannis: Oh no!<br />
Anthi: No? Qualcos’altro? Sai cuc<strong>in</strong>are?<br />
Lazarus: Sì, lavoravo come cuoco.<br />
Anthi: Davvero!<br />
Lazarus: Lavoravo <strong>in</strong> un negozio. Facevo pizze, club sandwich, spaghetti, omelette<br />
e crêpe!<br />
Anthi: Non ti ha conv<strong>in</strong>to, un po’? A me quasi quasi sì!<br />
Iannis: Che mi dici dei dolci?<br />
Lazarus: Be’, le crêpe…<br />
Manolis: Anch’io so fare le crêpe… E so cuc<strong>in</strong>are!!<br />
Anthi: Sei dei nostri! Che stai dicendo? Che non ci conv<strong>in</strong>ce. A me <strong>in</strong>vece quasi<br />
quasi mi ha conv<strong>in</strong>to.<br />
Lazarus: So fare le <strong>in</strong>sal<strong>at</strong>e. Insal<strong>at</strong>a rustica, <strong>in</strong>sal<strong>at</strong>a dello chef!<br />
Anthi: Ah ah ah! Davvero? Insal<strong>at</strong>a dello chef?<br />
Lazarus: È quello che ho detto…<br />
Iannis: Mmmh, sai suonare? Ti piace ascoltare musica?<br />
Lazarus: Certo!<br />
Manolis: E che genere di musica ascolti?<br />
Lazarus: Tanti tipi!<br />
Manolis: Ovvero?<br />
Lazarus: Quello che mi va…<br />
Anthi: Oh, andiamo! Ti stai tenendo sulla difensiva. Non credo proprio che ti<br />
prenderemo! «Quello che mi va!».<br />
Lazarus: Ascolto musica greca.<br />
Manolis: Ti piace la musica trance?<br />
Iannis: Ah, già, ascolti musica trance?<br />
Lazarus: No, solo alcuni pezzi, quelli che mi piacciono. Io ascolto solo quello<br />
che mi piace!<br />
Anthi: Mi serve ancora qualcosa per essere conv<strong>in</strong>to…<br />
Iannis: Anche a me!<br />
Manolis: Anche a me!<br />
Anthi: Qualcos’altro?<br />
Lazarus: Ascolto anche la radio…<br />
Anthi: Da Internet?<br />
305
Lazarus: Sì.<br />
Anthi: Ragazzi, è dei nostri!<br />
Manolis: Sì. E tu, Alexis. Che ci dici?<br />
Alexis: Che non voglio entrare a far parte della vostra azienda.<br />
Anthi: Guarda un po’ com’è bulletto, il più giovane dell’azienda!<br />
Iannis: Lì, tutto solo!<br />
306
Est<strong>at</strong>e<br />
AUTORE<br />
Antonia Lionaki<br />
Quanto sei bella, est<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Caldo, mare, sole… Est<strong>at</strong>e,<br />
Ci riporti sempre alla vita.<br />
Rond<strong>in</strong>i, passeri e gabbiani<br />
Volano alti<br />
Est<strong>at</strong>e…<br />
Dal venticello primaverile alla pioggia di settembre<br />
Est<strong>at</strong>e…<br />
Ti porterò dentro il cuore, oh est<strong>at</strong>e,<br />
E anche al sopraggiungere dell’<strong>in</strong>verno<br />
Est<strong>at</strong>e…<br />
Cont<strong>in</strong>uerai a scaldarci il cuore, oh est<strong>at</strong>e<br />
con il ricordo lum<strong>in</strong>oso dei tuoi giorni.<br />
Inverno<br />
AUTORE<br />
Antonia Lionaki<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>verno è torn<strong>at</strong>o,<br />
Così gelido e brutto,<br />
Cappotti, sciarpe e giacche<br />
Eccolo… tutto solo<br />
Ma aspetta! Da lontano arriva il vento del nord<br />
E una tempesta di neve<br />
a fargli compagnia…<br />
307
308<br />
Oh, mio bel piccionc<strong>in</strong>o<br />
Oh, mio umile piccionc<strong>in</strong>o<br />
Vola alto nel cielo<br />
Vola verso un posto lontano<br />
Che nessun uomo conosce<br />
In cerca di vall<strong>at</strong>e dell’anima<br />
E di acqua cristall<strong>in</strong>a da bere<br />
Per trovare riposo lungo la strada<br />
Trovare riposo e ripartire<br />
Verso luoghi ancora sconosciuti…<br />
Il piccione<br />
AUTORE<br />
Antonia Lionaki
Il sole guarda la tv<br />
AUTORI<br />
Équipe Mosaik – Kethea<br />
Il sole guarda la tv. Sullo schermo vede un uomo che non parla; allora cambia<br />
canale e aumenta il volume. Ora va meglio, pensa. Guarda un film, un film storico.<br />
Poi si s<strong>in</strong>tonizza sul calcio, qu<strong>in</strong>di le news: guerra! Annoi<strong>at</strong>o, spegne la tv ed<br />
esce <strong>in</strong> cortile a prendere il sole.<br />
«Prima ero una tv», dice la tv. «Ora sono un grande mare <strong>in</strong> cui la gente nuota».<br />
Due soli. Il primo si dedica alla pesca, il secondo fa il bagno. Malik, lo spirito,<br />
porta l’aria.<br />
E con l’aria appare un elefante dal cielo, perché ha visto due soli.<br />
Si sta facendo buio. I soli vanno a dormire. Malik, lo spirito, si rilassa. Sulla<br />
spiaggia, la gente dip<strong>in</strong>ge il tramonto.<br />
309
Qu<strong>at</strong>tro emozioni <strong>in</strong> viaggio<br />
(Gioia, Felicità, Tristezza e Paura)<br />
AUTORI<br />
Équipe Mosaik – Kethea<br />
Sull’autobus. Dai f<strong>in</strong>estr<strong>in</strong>i si vede il paesaggio.<br />
Felicità: È bellissimo, andiamo!<br />
Paura: Ma come facciamo se piove? Come torniamo <strong>in</strong>dietro?<br />
Tristezza annuisce.<br />
Gioia: Non preoccuparti, non ci scioglieremo!<br />
Felicità: Che ne dite di un caffè?<br />
Si fermano <strong>in</strong> un piccolo bar.<br />
Gioia: Quante buone cose!<br />
Paura: Non mi va di mangiarle, chissà come le hanno f<strong>at</strong>te…<br />
Tristezza: Non importa… qualunque cosa tu dica, non importa.<br />
Tristezza beve il suo caffè senza l<strong>at</strong>te.<br />
Gioia: Oh, ecco.<br />
Tristezza: Ora sto bene.<br />
310
Tutti mangiano e bevono. Solo Paura non tocca nulla.<br />
Felicità: Beviti un succo.<br />
Paura: Solo se la confezione è ancora <strong>in</strong>tegra e si legge la d<strong>at</strong>a di scadenza.<br />
Tristezza: Sarà scaduto. Lo berrò io.<br />
Bevuto il loro caffè, Gioia e Felicità vogliono andarsene.<br />
Felicità: Adesso che si fa? Come posso aiutarti a v<strong>in</strong>cere la paura, Paura?<br />
Tristezza: Se lo bevo, vedrai che non succede niente.<br />
Gioia: Lasciamola qui… Solo che Felicità non può essere felice se non siamo tutti<br />
<strong>in</strong>sieme.<br />
Tristezza: Sì, lasciamola qui.<br />
Paura: Ho paura da sola. Voglio venire con voi.<br />
Così, tutte <strong>in</strong>sieme, proseguono il loro viaggio…<br />
311
312<br />
Viaggio onirico – canzone rap<br />
AUTORI<br />
Membri di Nostos<br />
Essere un immigr<strong>at</strong>o significa nostalgia, vita nuova,<br />
libertà ma anche perdita<br />
La vita è un fiume che scorre di cont<strong>in</strong>uo,<br />
un fiume che tutti vogliono ma pochi hanno.<br />
Tanti cercano la felicità,<br />
pochi la trovano: gli altri si perdono per strada.<br />
La vita è un fiume che scorre di cont<strong>in</strong>uo,<br />
un fiume che tutti vogliono ma pochi hanno<br />
Sogno un mondo f<strong>at</strong><strong>at</strong>o,<br />
un mondo pieno d’amore dove non esiste l’<strong>in</strong>verno<br />
e la primavera splende <strong>in</strong> eterno.<br />
La vita è un fiume che scorre di cont<strong>in</strong>uo,<br />
un fiume che tutti vogliono ma pochi hanno.<br />
Sogno un sole caldo<br />
che riempie i cuori della gente.
Un mondo senza guerra, senza dolori e sofferenze.<br />
La vita è un fiume che scorre di cont<strong>in</strong>uo,<br />
un fiume che tutti vogliono ma pochi hanno.<br />
Segui la tua strada nella vita,<br />
e forse scoprirai che da qualche parte<br />
il tuo sogno ti sta aspettando.<br />
Ora fa’ buon viaggio…<br />
313
Ali di vetro<br />
AUTORE<br />
Fil<strong>in</strong>a Tassopoulou<br />
Lei si chiama Emanuella, ed è una baller<strong>in</strong>a spagnola che vive a Peristeri. Ha<br />
un car<strong>at</strong>tere d<strong>in</strong>amico e le piace viaggiare. Fan<strong>at</strong>ica del suo lavoro, è passionale,<br />
ambiziosa e ottimista.<br />
Il suo obiettivo è quello di diventare famosa, una star. E se ha dei nemici, questi<br />
sono le sue colleghe. Due di loro sono molto competitive nei suoi confronti, e<br />
vogliono soffiarle il posto nella prossima gara di ballo. Tanta è l’<strong>in</strong>vidia nei suoi<br />
confronti, che stanno cercando una via traversa per metterle il bastone tra le ruote.<br />
Certo, i suoi amici sono sempre al suo fianco, pronti a sostenerla: Thomas,<br />
Kelly, Kostas e Phany sono solo alcuni di loro. E poi c’è il suo compagno, Philip,<br />
che la adora realmente.<br />
La prima cosa che Emanuella nota <strong>in</strong> una persona è la sua apertura mentale e<br />
la sua spontaneità. Che poi sono anche le sue car<strong>at</strong>teristiche: lei è aperta, onesta,<br />
oltre che dot<strong>at</strong>a di un’immag<strong>in</strong>azione vivace. Detesta le bugie, l’<strong>in</strong>fedeltà e i pantofolai,<br />
perché è un’estroversa. Ha paura dei ragni e dei serpenti. Ecco perché di<br />
solito non si esibisce mai all’aperto.<br />
Quando era molto giovane è st<strong>at</strong>a morsa da un ragno, e da allora ne ha molta<br />
paura. La sua professionalità, il suo senso dell’humour, il suo aspetto che non<br />
passa <strong>in</strong>osserv<strong>at</strong>o e la sua predisposizione all’avventura la pongono sempre sotto<br />
i riflettori, dove lei ovviamente ama trovarsi.<br />
Con l’aiuto del suo compagno sta cercando di superare la paura dell’aeroplano,<br />
perché viaggia spesso, e talvolta è necessario ricorrere a quel mezzo piuttosto<br />
che al treno o alla nave.<br />
314
Al momento è un po’ confusa per via di suo figlio, che ha c<strong>in</strong>que anni, e che<br />
vorrebbe evitare di lasciare da solo a casa per il lavoro, anche se è costretta a farlo.<br />
Emanuella <strong>in</strong>tende diventare un nome di primo piano nel panorama della<br />
danza, e perciò vuole v<strong>in</strong>cere la gara che avrà luogo ad Atene tra pochi giorni. Sua<br />
madre voleva diventare una baller<strong>in</strong>a, ma non c’è riuscita: adesso, perciò, preme<br />
sulla figlia perché diventi una celebrità.<br />
Grazie alle molte relazioni pubbliche, sua madre era riuscita ad approdare a<br />
Broadway come protagonista. Dopo un mese di prove, il giorno della prima, era<br />
caduta a metà dell’esibizione, storcendosi una gamba all’<strong>in</strong>dietro e spezzandosi<br />
l’osso.<br />
Il pubblico era terrorizz<strong>at</strong>o. Dalla folla si era f<strong>at</strong>to avanti un dottore e l’aveva<br />
port<strong>at</strong>a nell’ospedale più vic<strong>in</strong>o, dov’era st<strong>at</strong>a oper<strong>at</strong>a d’urgenza.<br />
In sala oper<strong>at</strong>oria, le cose erano subito apparse più gravi di come sembravano<br />
<strong>in</strong> un primo momento, e i dottori non avevano potuto fare molto. Quella sarebbe<br />
st<strong>at</strong>a la sua ultima esibizione?<br />
Dopo una lunga convalescenza, aveva <strong>in</strong>trapreso sei mesi di fisioterapia con<br />
un dottore esperto.<br />
Due anni dopo aveva com<strong>in</strong>ci<strong>at</strong>o a considerare questo dottore sotto un’altra<br />
luce. Christopher non l’aveva aiut<strong>at</strong>a solo sotto il profilo medico; le aveva tocc<strong>at</strong>o<br />
l’anima, dandole consigli, coraggio e speranza per il futuro.<br />
Lui stesso aveva <strong>in</strong>izi<strong>at</strong>o a vederla come più che un’amica, mostrandole un <strong>at</strong>taccamento<br />
che andava ben oltre il rapporto medico-paziente.<br />
Lei si era sentita libera, si era fid<strong>at</strong>a, e i due erano divent<strong>at</strong>i una coppia. A causa<br />
della sua salute precaria, la loro relazione dovette sopportare diverse difficoltà,<br />
ma lui la sostenne con il suo amore, e quando si sposarono lei gli diede <strong>in</strong> dono<br />
il miracolo che lui non si sarebbe aspett<strong>at</strong>o: adesso poteva camm<strong>in</strong>are più a lungo<br />
senza il suo aiuto.<br />
Com<strong>in</strong>ciarono a modellare la loro casa come fosse una scuola di danza. Dopo<br />
aver tolto i mobili, piazzarono specchi e sbarre dappertutto. Lui le aveva promesso<br />
di aiutarla a danzare di nuovo. Sulle prime lei aveva obiett<strong>at</strong>o, ma con il suo amore<br />
lui aveva f<strong>in</strong>ito per conv<strong>in</strong>cerla. I primi mesi furono duri, ma, con il passare<br />
del tempo, lei recuperò le forze e <strong>in</strong>tensificò gli esercizi. Christopher la guardava<br />
ammir<strong>at</strong>o, dandole forza e amore. Sei mesi dopo erano già <strong>in</strong> cerca di un prov<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Insieme, fecero richiesta per una parte da protagonista presso un sacco di<br />
te<strong>at</strong>ri, come pure presso importanti registi c<strong>in</strong>em<strong>at</strong>ografici con alle spalle grosse<br />
case di produzione. Poco tempo dopo, ebbero la prima risposta. La sola cosa che<br />
le rimaneva da fare era scegliere.<br />
315
Avventure australiane<br />
AUTORE<br />
Fil<strong>in</strong>a Tassopoulou<br />
Penny è una ragazz<strong>in</strong>a di nove anni che vive <strong>in</strong> Australia con la mamma e la<br />
nonna. Penny ama il mare, e nel f<strong>in</strong>e settimana ci va <strong>in</strong>sieme alla nonna. Le piace<br />
anche la musica, e da due anni studia chitarra.<br />
La settimana scorsa ha avuto una brutta avventura sulla spiaggia. Anche quel<br />
giorno era <strong>in</strong> compagnia della nonna. In spiaggia c’era un po’ di gente. Improvvisamente,<br />
mentre nuotava, si è allontan<strong>at</strong>a, decisa a mostrare alla nonna quanto<br />
fosse brava a nuotare.<br />
Per sua sfortuna, però, una barca di passaggio ha sollev<strong>at</strong>o onde altissime, che<br />
non poteva fronteggiare. Senza che la nonna si accorgesse di nulla, poi, un pescecane<br />
ha preso a girarle <strong>in</strong>torno.<br />
Lei ha com<strong>in</strong>ci<strong>at</strong>o a piangere disper<strong>at</strong>amente, e alla f<strong>in</strong>e il pescecane le ha<br />
morso una gamba. Sangu<strong>in</strong>ante, Penny ha perso conoscenza e ha rischi<strong>at</strong>o di andare<br />
a fondo. Nel giro di pochi m<strong>in</strong>uti, però, dalla barca sono arriv<strong>at</strong>i dei sub che,<br />
dopo averla salv<strong>at</strong>a, hanno chiam<strong>at</strong>o il soccorso via elicottero. Poi, <strong>in</strong>sieme alla<br />
nonna, l’hanno trasport<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> ospedale.<br />
I sub e i medici hanno rassicur<strong>at</strong>o la nonna e la mamma; dopo diversi giorni di<br />
cure, <strong>in</strong>f<strong>at</strong>ti, Penny si è ristabilita.<br />
Per tutto quel tempo, sua madre non si è mai allontan<strong>at</strong>a dal suo letto.<br />
Al rientro <strong>in</strong> casa, Penny è rimasta sorpresa dall’<strong>in</strong>vito ricevuto: doveva suonare<br />
<strong>in</strong> occasione di un grande concerto! Questo l’avrebbe certo f<strong>at</strong>ta sentire meglio<br />
e l’avrebbe aiut<strong>at</strong>a a guarire presto.<br />
316
F<strong>in</strong>almente il gran giorno è arriv<strong>at</strong>o. Il suo umore era alle stelle, il suo viso brillava<br />
di gioia. E che successo il concerto!<br />
Quel giorno c’era anche la diretta tv. Dopo il concerto, i suoi compagni di<br />
classe le hanno f<strong>at</strong>to una sorpresa, regalandole un mazzo di rose.<br />
Che concerto <strong>in</strong>dimenticabile! Che giorn<strong>at</strong>a fantastica per lei e per la sua famiglia!<br />
317
Una storia da raccontare…<br />
Una decisione importante<br />
AUTORE<br />
Ourania Tsouma<br />
Il piccolo Antonis abitava <strong>in</strong> un villaggio accanto a un laghetto. Il laghetto<br />
pullulava di pesciol<strong>in</strong>i, pietruzze che da lontano, alla luce del sole, luccicavano<br />
come oro. C’era poi la casetta di un’anziana signora che viveva lì tutta sola… be’,<br />
non poi così sola: aveva un grande giard<strong>in</strong>o di cui prendersi cura, e poi un cagnol<strong>in</strong>o,<br />
un pappagallo e dei canar<strong>in</strong>i.<br />
Ma poi Antonis dovette trasferirsi <strong>in</strong> città con la famiglia, perché suo padre aveva<br />
trov<strong>at</strong>o un impiego migliore e sua madre non sarebbe st<strong>at</strong>a più una casal<strong>in</strong>ga…<br />
avrebbe avuto il suo primo lavoro <strong>in</strong> un labor<strong>at</strong>orio di ceramica.<br />
Antonis andò a salutare l’anziana signora, che sapeva essere molto affezion<strong>at</strong>a<br />
a lui: ogni volta che lo vedeva, <strong>in</strong>f<strong>at</strong>ti, gli offriva dei fiori appena colti perché<br />
li portasse a casa con sé. Antonis non sarebbe voluto partire, aveva degli amici nel<br />
villaggio con cui giocava <strong>in</strong> riva al lago, e gli alberi su cui faceva i nidi per gli uccelli,<br />
e poi quella strana, anziana signora… Strana, perché ogni volta che parlava<br />
lui non capiva cosa dicesse… sembrava straniera, usava <strong>parole</strong> per metà greche<br />
e per metà… cosa? Proprio non ne aveva idea.<br />
Con il tempo, Antonis si fece nuovi amici <strong>in</strong> città, ma non per questo dimenticò<br />
i vecchi compagni del villaggio e quell’anziana signora… Così, un giorno,<br />
preso dalla nostalgia, chiese il permesso ai suoi genitori di poter tornare a fare loro<br />
visita…<br />
318
Dopo aver f<strong>at</strong>to visita ai suoi amici di un tempo (erano cresciuti, ma li riconobbe<br />
tutti), andò a trovare l’anziana signora.<br />
«Oh, sei cresciuto così tanto, Antonis!», disse lei.<br />
«Mi spiace, non posso tr<strong>at</strong>tenermi troppo: mio zio mi aspetta nella piazza del<br />
villaggio per riportarmi <strong>in</strong> città», disse Antonis dopo un po’.<br />
Allora, l’anziana signora recise i fiori più belli del suo giard<strong>in</strong>o e gli disse: «Presto<br />
troverai la tua casa».<br />
Durante il tragitto di ritorno, Antonis cont<strong>in</strong>uò a rimug<strong>in</strong>are su quelle <strong>parole</strong>:<br />
cosa potevano mai significare? Lui una casa ce l’aveva già…<br />
Il giorno dopo, Antonis andò al circo con la scuola…<br />
Passarono gli anni. Antonis proseguì gli studi e divenne un archeologo. Presto<br />
ricevette un’offerta di lavoro dalla Spagna, per un progetto riguardante alcune<br />
st<strong>at</strong>ue antiche ritrov<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong> un piccolo villaggio poco fuori città, nei pressi di un laghetto.<br />
Antonis decise di trasferirsi, anche se quel villaggio e quel lago erano così<br />
diversi dal luogo <strong>in</strong> cui era cresciuto. Lì <strong>in</strong>contrò una baller<strong>in</strong>a che divenne sua<br />
amica e che lo portò <strong>in</strong> giro per la città. Una sera l’amica gli disse che presto vi si<br />
sarebbe esibito un celebre circo. Antonis ripensò al circo che aveva visto da bamb<strong>in</strong>o<br />
e decise di assistere allo spettacolo con la sua amica. L’esibizione si rivelò <strong>in</strong>teressante<br />
e divertente, ma ciò che più colpì Antonis fu la baller<strong>in</strong>a che faceva da<br />
spalla al clown nel suo numero. Rimase talmente impression<strong>at</strong>o che, alla f<strong>in</strong>e dello<br />
spettacolo, andò a cercarla (gli piaceva davvero tanto…).<br />
Non appena lo vide, la baller<strong>in</strong>a gli disse: «Ti stavo aspettando!».<br />
«Ma nemmeno mi conosci», rispose Antonis.<br />
«Eppure… mia nonna mi ha così tanto parl<strong>at</strong>o di te… Hai tante capacità che<br />
neanche sospetti di avere… Potresti lavorare con me, se volessi…».<br />
Poi spiegò ad Antonis che sarebbe rimasta <strong>in</strong> città per altri tre giorni, prima di<br />
andare via. Qu<strong>in</strong>di aveva tre giorni per prendere una decisione…<br />
Ad Antonis il circo piaceva davvero, f<strong>in</strong> da quando era un bamb<strong>in</strong>o… E con<br />
l’età questa passione era aument<strong>at</strong>a… quella vita randagia…<br />
Torn<strong>at</strong>o <strong>in</strong> albergo, sebbene non fosse stanco, Antonis si addormentò all’istante.<br />
Fece uno strano sogno: vide un uomo né alto né basso, né magro né grasso…<br />
L’uomo era scuro di pelle, e stava cercando di <strong>in</strong>segnargli dei trucchi che<br />
pochi conoscevano: era un mago! Antonis fece lo stesso identico sogno per tre<br />
notti. Poi tornò al circo per rivedere la baller<strong>in</strong>a. Sedette tra il pubblico e aspettò<br />
la f<strong>in</strong>e dello spettacolo. Quell’esibizione aveva qualcosa di straord<strong>in</strong>ario, e l’ultima<br />
performance fu eseguita da un mago. Quando lo vide sul palco, Antonis lo<br />
riconobbe immedi<strong>at</strong>amente: era l’uomo che aveva visto nei suoi sogni!<br />
319
Per assisterlo nell’ultimo numero, il mago scelse Antonis tra i presenti. F<strong>in</strong>ito<br />
lo spettacolo, Antonis e il mago andarono <strong>in</strong>sieme dietro le qu<strong>in</strong>te, dove ad <strong>at</strong>tenderli<br />
c’era la baller<strong>in</strong>a: il mago, <strong>in</strong>f<strong>at</strong>ti, era suo fr<strong>at</strong>ello.<br />
Quello era il giorno <strong>in</strong> cui Antonis avrebbe dovuto comunicare la sua decisione<br />
alla baller<strong>in</strong>a. I loro occhi si <strong>in</strong>contrarono, e <strong>in</strong> quegli occhi Antonis comprese<br />
di aver trov<strong>at</strong>o non solo la sua casa, ma anche un amore smisur<strong>at</strong>o!<br />
320
ROMÂNIA<br />
ROMANIA
Introducere<br />
Desfăs¸urarea proiectului Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re în România a permis tuturor celor<br />
implic<strong>at</strong>¸i să ia parte la o experient¸ă de dezvoltare personală s¸i profesională în care<br />
accentul a fost pus pe cre<strong>at</strong>ivit<strong>at</strong>e s¸i deschiderea către noi realităt¸i pr<strong>in</strong> scrierea<br />
de scenarii de te<strong>at</strong>ru d<strong>in</strong> perspectiva <strong>in</strong>cluziunii sociale. Participant¸ii în cadrul<br />
proiectului, fie că au fost cadre didactice, reprezentant¸i ai unor organiz<strong>at</strong>¸ii nonguvernamentale<br />
sau elevi s¸i t<strong>in</strong>eri afl<strong>at</strong>¸i în situ<strong>at</strong>¸ie de abandon s¸colar, au putut<br />
să experimenteze roluri care în vi<strong>at</strong>¸a cotidiană sunt greu accesibile s¸i uneori<br />
dificil de gestion<strong>at</strong>, acceptând astfel provocarea noastră de a se «juca» într-o<br />
maniera cât se po<strong>at</strong>e de serioasă cu tem<strong>at</strong>ica abandonului s¸colar, cu probleme<br />
specifice, context social, educ<strong>at</strong>¸ional s¸i cultural, sugestii de solut¸ionare, fi<strong>in</strong>d<br />
astfel o experient¸ă ce le-a permis tuturor să încerce noi ipostaze, noi roluri, să fie<br />
personaje. Valoarea adăug<strong>at</strong>ă a proiectului este leg<strong>at</strong>ă tocmai de faptul că acesta<br />
prez<strong>in</strong>tă s¸i permite profesionis¸tilor care lucrează cu t<strong>in</strong>eri o metodă s¸i<br />
<strong>in</strong>strumente de lucru nu foarte des folosite în t¸ara noastră. Practicienii implic<strong>at</strong>¸i<br />
în cadrul proiectului au avut oportunit<strong>at</strong>ea de a participa la un program de<br />
formare realiz<strong>at</strong> de profesionis¸ti d<strong>in</strong> domeniul te<strong>at</strong>ral s¸i de a experimenta la<br />
rândul lor cele învăt¸<strong>at</strong>e împreună cu t<strong>in</strong>erii. Astfel că, în cadrul proiectului au<br />
fost realiz<strong>at</strong>e 10 scenarii pe care le putet¸i găsi <strong>in</strong>cluse în această public<strong>at</strong>¸ie, s¸i care<br />
mai presus de to<strong>at</strong>e au cre<strong>at</strong> entuziasm în rândul celor implic<strong>at</strong>¸i.<br />
323
Personaje<br />
Suntem ceea ce vrem noi sa fim<br />
COORDONATORI<br />
prof. Al<strong>in</strong>a Nit¸u, prof. T<strong>at</strong>iana Păduraru,<br />
Colegiul N<strong>at</strong>¸ional «Octav Onicescu» – Bucures¸ti<br />
COAUTORI<br />
10 elevi d<strong>in</strong> clasa a X-a D,<br />
Colegiul N<strong>at</strong>¸ional «Octav Onicescu» – Bucures¸ti<br />
Bianca<br />
Sonia<br />
Ana, colega cea bună<br />
Mama, dna Ionescu<br />
Sora Biancăi, Al<strong>in</strong>a<br />
Sot¸ul Al<strong>in</strong>ei Popescu<br />
Domnul dirig<strong>in</strong>te, Prodan Vicent¸iu<br />
Bunicul Soniei, Mavrocordan<br />
SCENA I<br />
Actul I<br />
La plimbare, Sonia s¸i Bianca povestesc despre familiile lor.<br />
Sonia: Bună, f<strong>at</strong>ă!<br />
Bianca: Bună, f<strong>at</strong>ă!<br />
Sonia: Azi ce mai facem?!<br />
324
Bianca: Ca de obicei, nu mergem la s¸coală, mergem în parc, că mama e plec<strong>at</strong>ă,<br />
nu s¸tie de m<strong>in</strong>e. Soră-mea e ocup<strong>at</strong>ă cu copilul, la serviciu; cumn<strong>at</strong>ul nu s¸tie<br />
decât să bea… deci pot să fac ce vreau.<br />
Sonia: La m<strong>in</strong>e ce să zic, bunică-miu crede că sunt premiantă la câte i-am zis.<br />
Mergem s¸i noi în parc, po<strong>at</strong>e ne întâlnim cu ăia de ieri care ne-au d<strong>at</strong> t¸igări<br />
s¸i băutură… Ne mai distrăm s¸i noi put¸<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Bianca: Cum, f<strong>at</strong>ă, i-ai zis că es¸ti premiantă? Culmea, s¸i eu la fel! De aia suntem<br />
noi prietene, s¸tim să ne descurcăm.<br />
Sonia: Păi da, că altfel nu-mi dădea bani.<br />
Indic<strong>at</strong>¸ii scenice: Bianca sco<strong>at</strong>e rujul, fardurile, ogl<strong>in</strong>da…<br />
Sonia: Ia, dă-mi, f<strong>at</strong>ă, s¸i mie că arăt urât. Bunică-miu nu mai m-a lăs<strong>at</strong> să mă<br />
fardez, m-a trimis as¸a la s¸coală. Cică pe vremea lui nu existau smacuri de-astea.<br />
SCENA II<br />
Întâlnirea cu colega lor de clasă, pe care nu o recunosc de la început…<br />
Bianca: Bă, uite-o pe aia; ce se holbează as¸a la noi?<br />
Sonia: O fi fost s¸i ea cu noi ieri în parc.<br />
Bianca: Nu cred f<strong>at</strong>ă, nu vezi ce f<strong>at</strong>¸ă de tocilară are. Pfoooa…<br />
Indic<strong>at</strong>¸ii scenice: Ana se apropie de colege.<br />
Ana: Bună, fetelor!<br />
Bianca: Hai cu noi la o t¸igară, ca ieri…<br />
Ana: Ce t¸igară, ce ieri? Eu am fost la s¸coală, la ore. Voi n-<strong>at</strong>¸i mai venit de<br />
aproape un semestru.<br />
Sonia: Nu contează, oricum trecem, are bunică-miu bani… s¸i, de rus¸<strong>in</strong>e, o săi<br />
dea ca să mă treacă.<br />
Bianca: S¸i mama o să trimită cadouri la profi… Po<strong>at</strong>e s¸i bani… O aburesc eu<br />
cumva…<br />
Ana: A zis domnul dirig<strong>in</strong>te Prodan că, fără teză, nu vă trece.<br />
Sonia: S¸i teza asta când e?<br />
Ana: Azi!<br />
Bianca: Azi dăm teză??? As¸a repede a trecut un semestru? Dacă venim, ne ajut¸i!<br />
Nu ne trebuie decât un 5… Hai că vorbim noi de acum cu tovarăs¸ii nos¸tri<br />
s¸i n-o să se mai ia nimeni de t<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
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Ana: B<strong>in</strong>e, eu vă ajut, dar vedet¸i cum facet¸i, ca să nu-mi pună s¸i mie 1 sau sămi<br />
scadă nota…<br />
SCENA III<br />
Ajung cele 3 fete la s¸coală, în clasă; se as¸ează în bănci. Se fac planuri pentru teză.<br />
Intră domnul dirig<strong>in</strong>te în clasă.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>tele: Bună ziua!<br />
Face prezent¸a, întrebându-l pe elevul de serviciu care sunt absent¸ii.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>tele: Nu lipses¸te nimeni azi?<br />
Ana [eleva de serviciu]: Nu, nimeni.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>tele: Au venit s¸i domnis¸oarele Bianca s¸i Sonia?<br />
Bianca s¸i Sonia [în cor]: Da’ am fost mereu!<br />
Ana: Ssst… e nervos! Dă teza s¸i mai grea s¸i o s-o dea pe numere.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>tele: B<strong>in</strong>e, nu mai dăm teză azi, ies la tablă cele 2 fete care au venit mereu.<br />
Bianca: Vezi, dacă tăceai, dădeam teză s¸i scăpam.<br />
Sonia: Tu trebuia să taci!<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>tele: La tablă, fără discut¸ii! Rezolv<strong>at</strong>¸i exercit¸iul acesta: 2x+2=2!<br />
Fetele ies la tablă s¸i se miră cât este de greu.<br />
Bianca: Dar noi n-am făcut as¸a ceva.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>tele: Nu, desigur, pentru că le-am făcut la începutul semestrului s¸i acum<br />
e sfârs¸itul lui.<br />
SCENA IV<br />
V<strong>in</strong>e mama Biancăi împreună cu sora s¸i cumn<strong>at</strong>ul Biancăi.<br />
Mama: Bună ziua, domnule dirig<strong>in</strong>te! Sunt mama Biancăi s¸i am venit să văd s¸i<br />
eu situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia ei la învăt¸ătură. Mă scuz<strong>at</strong>¸i că întrerup ora, dar Bianca îmi spune<br />
că nu are probleme, că este chiar premiantă, însă sora s¸i cumn<strong>at</strong>ul ei îmi spun<br />
cu totul altceva.<br />
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Dirig<strong>in</strong>tele: Vă arăt imedi<strong>at</strong> situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia d<strong>in</strong> c<strong>at</strong>alog. Note nu are, însă absent¸e, d<strong>in</strong><br />
pl<strong>in</strong>. S¸i tocmai am ascult<strong>at</strong>-o… la un exercit¸iu banal de clasa a 5-a s¸i ea e în<br />
clasa a 10-a s¸i nu a s¸tiut să-l rezolve. Sunt aproape sigur că nu o să treacă clasa.<br />
Mama îi spune Biancăi să se apropie.<br />
Mama: Bianca, ce mi-ai spus mie s¸i ce-i aici?<br />
Bianca: Păi, mamă, nu puteam să-t¸i spun chiar adevărul că nu mi-ai mai fi d<strong>at</strong><br />
bani, dar sunt mai multe… Întreab-o s¸i pe Al<strong>in</strong>a… Eu, când vroiam să-mi<br />
fac lect¸iile, ea mă punea să am grijă de copil.<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a: Mamă, nu este adevăr<strong>at</strong>, eu doar o rugam ca <strong>at</strong>unci când v<strong>in</strong>e de la liceu<br />
să ia pâ<strong>in</strong>e s¸i apă pl<strong>at</strong>ă la 2 litri, că ea doar d<strong>in</strong> asta bea. Niciod<strong>at</strong>ă nu mi-a<br />
d<strong>at</strong> restul, dar am lăs<strong>at</strong>-o, să nu zică că nici <strong>at</strong>ât nu-i dau…<br />
Bianca: Dacă ea nu mi-a d<strong>at</strong> bani nici de un suc. Trebuia să fac s¸i eu ceva.<br />
Mama: S¸i cu banii trimis¸i de m<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Bianca: Mi-i lua cumn<strong>at</strong>ul David! Ca să-i bea.<br />
Cumn<strong>at</strong>ul: Nu tu îmi dădeai banii ca să nu te zic maică-tii cum te-am pr<strong>in</strong>s în<br />
parc?<br />
Bianca: S¸i tu ce căutai în parc la ora aia?<br />
Cumn<strong>at</strong>ul: Mă duceam să mă angajez.<br />
Bianca: Lasă, că te duceai la cârciumă cu golanii tăi.<br />
Cumn<strong>at</strong>ul: Nu-i adevăr<strong>at</strong>; acolo mi-a spus un prieten că mai are un loc de<br />
muncă… Ce să fac?!<br />
Mama: De ajuns! Am înt¸eles.<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a: Mama, nici eu nu am s¸tiut to<strong>at</strong>ă povestea asta, eu s¸tiam că David o duce<br />
la s¸coală, dar nu că s-au întâlnit pr<strong>in</strong> parcuri…<br />
Sonia: Da’ ce e rău să mergi în parc?! S¸i n-a fost s<strong>in</strong>gură, a fost cu m<strong>in</strong>e, nu avet¸i<br />
de ce să vă facet¸i <strong>at</strong>âtea probleme. E pe mâ<strong>in</strong>i bune.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>tele: Se vede că niciuna nu s¸tie nimic.<br />
Mama [spre Sonia]: S¸i c<strong>in</strong>e es¸ti tu?<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a: Parcă ne <strong>in</strong>teresează c<strong>in</strong>e es¸ti tu.<br />
Vorbesc simultan.<br />
David: Da, s¸i ea era în parc.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>tele: La o as¸a gălăgie o să ne trezim cu domnul director la us¸ă…<br />
Se face l<strong>in</strong>is¸te.<br />
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SCENA V<br />
B<strong>at</strong>e c<strong>in</strong>eva la us¸ă. Nu e domnul director… E un spiridus¸ care transformă în<br />
totalit<strong>at</strong>e personajele…<br />
Personajele<br />
Dna. Dogaru, dirig<strong>in</strong>ta clasei<br />
Mama Emei<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a<br />
Sergiu<br />
Chelnerul<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl lui Sergiu, moralistul<br />
Ema<br />
SCENA I<br />
Actul II<br />
Ema, Ir<strong>in</strong>a s¸i Sergiu sunt în parc pe o bancă s¸i-s¸i planifică chiulul de la ore mergând<br />
la o terasă.<br />
Ema: Ce facem azi, mergem la s¸coală?<br />
Sergiu: La s¸coală!? Dar ce-t¸i veni? Căci mai e până la f<strong>in</strong>al de semestru ca să ne<br />
încheiem s¸i noi mediile.<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Procedăm ca de obicei, le spunem profilor fie că am fost bolnavi, fie că ai<br />
nos¸tri au probleme, bla, bla… Acolo pentru impresie s¸i luăm s¸i noi 5-ul.<br />
Ema: Deci, mergem la terasă… Ura! As¸a vă vreau!<br />
SCENA II<br />
La terasă.<br />
Sergiu: S¸i ce bem, fetelor?<br />
Ema: Un Pepsi.<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: O limonadă.<br />
328
Sergiu: Ce e cu voi? Nu bet¸i altceva? Eu încerc ceva mai tare. Un g<strong>in</strong> tonic.<br />
Ema: De unde bani? Mama nu-mi mai dă, a zis să-i arăt notele… S¸i mă mai s¸i<br />
amen<strong>in</strong>t¸ă că v<strong>in</strong>e la s¸coală. Nici nu s¸tiu ce să-i mai zic să nu v<strong>in</strong>ă.<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: S¸i la m<strong>in</strong>e e cam la fel.<br />
Sergiu: De m<strong>in</strong>e nu se <strong>in</strong>teresează nimeni, căci nu au timp, au două job-uri, v<strong>in</strong><br />
frânt¸i… Ce să-i încurc cu problemele mele?!<br />
Sergiu: Chelner, ne iei comanda? Că pierdem timpul… aici.<br />
Chelnerul: Ce dorit¸i?<br />
Sergiu: Un pepsi, o limonadă s¸i un g<strong>in</strong> tonic.<br />
Chelnerul: Nu servim băuturi alcoolice m<strong>in</strong>orilor.<br />
Sergiu: Hai lasă gluma, vei primi bacs¸is¸ul… Care e problema?<br />
Chelnerul: Problema e că avem reguli s¸i le respectăm!<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Hai lasă, cât¸i ani ai? Ce, suntem primii adolescent¸i care cerem băutură?<br />
Tu nu ai băut în liceu?<br />
Chelnerul: Daca nu încet<strong>at</strong>¸i, sunt nevoit să chem bodyguarzii.<br />
Sergiu: Hai, fetelor, să mergem, că aici doar ne enervăm!<br />
SCENA III<br />
Elevii ies d<strong>in</strong> restaurant, se as¸ează în parc pe o bancă. Sergiu sco<strong>at</strong>e t¸igările, fetele<br />
îs¸i rearanjează machiajul. Când, se apropie dirig<strong>in</strong>ta… Elevii n-o observă.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>ta: Ce e cu voi aici? Ema, nu mi-ai spus tu ieri la telefon că es¸ti bolnavă,<br />
că nu pot¸i veni to<strong>at</strong>ă săptămâna? S¸i acum es¸ti aici în parc?! S¸i voi, Ir<strong>in</strong>a s¸i<br />
Sergiu?! S¸tit¸i ce situ<strong>at</strong>¸ie avet¸i: multe absent¸e s¸i note mici…<br />
Sergiu: Doamnă, dar avem scutire. Suntem bolnavi, dar nu as¸a grav… să stăm<br />
în casă.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>ta: Da, văd; s¸i vă s¸i tr<strong>at</strong><strong>at</strong>¸i! [arătând spre t¸igări s¸i farduri]. Venit¸i la<br />
s¸coală acum!<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Nu putem, n-avem ce ne trebuie la noi. De fapt, nu s¸tim ce ore avem.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>ta: Vorbesc eu cu colegii vos¸tri să vă împrumute nis¸te pixuri s¸i foi ca să<br />
vă lu<strong>at</strong>¸i notit¸e.<br />
În timpul acestei discut¸ii apare s¸i mama Emei.<br />
Mama Emei: Bună ziua, dna. dirig<strong>in</strong>tă, văd că Ema e în parc în loc să fie la<br />
s¸coală. Eu muncesc s¸i 12 ore pe zi, ca ei să nu-i lipsească nimic s¸i ea e în parc,<br />
în loc să fie la s¸coală. Iar dacă azi nu am fi avut dez<strong>in</strong>sect¸ii, as¸ fi fost tot la lucru!<br />
329
Ema: Nu, mamă, azi nu se fac ore.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>ta: M<strong>in</strong>t¸i cu m<strong>in</strong>e de f<strong>at</strong>¸ă?!<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Ema, taci! Că o încurcăm s¸i mai rău…<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>ta se adresează mamei: Doamnă, Ema are o situ<strong>at</strong>¸ie dificilă: nu înv<strong>at</strong>¸ă,<br />
probabil va rămâne corigentă, are multe absent¸e s¸i nu dă niciun semn că ar<br />
dori să se îndrepte. Nu s¸tiu ce să mai zic. Probabil că nu <strong>at</strong>¸i primit <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>¸iile<br />
mele la s¸coală.<br />
Mama Emei: Acum aud prima d<strong>at</strong>ă s¸i e adevăr<strong>at</strong>, de la serviciu nu pot pleca,<br />
căci p<strong>at</strong>ronul are încredere doar în m<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Dirig<strong>in</strong>ta: Eu vă cred, dar vedet¸i, până la urmă, <strong>at</strong>¸i neglij<strong>at</strong> copilul. S¸i Ema a<br />
simt¸it că vă po<strong>at</strong>e ascunde adevărul.<br />
Mama Emei: As¸a e, dar vă promit că situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia se va schimba. O să v<strong>in</strong> zilnic,<br />
până când lucrurile se vor îndrepta, căci s¸tit¸i că până anul acesta era o f<strong>at</strong>ă<br />
premiantă… S¸i voi vorbi s¸i cu păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii lor, ai lui Sergiu s¸i ai Ir<strong>in</strong>ei, căci sunt<br />
vec<strong>in</strong>ii mei.<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Nu, doamnă, vă rog!<br />
Sergiu: S¸i eu vă rog! Aoleu, îl văd s¸i pe t<strong>at</strong>a ven<strong>in</strong>d…<br />
V<strong>in</strong>e t<strong>at</strong>ăl lui Sergiu… care este, de fapt, cel ce opres¸te această scenă, spunând<br />
Morala: Oamenii se pot schimba… azi au un rol pe scena viet¸ii, mâ<strong>in</strong>e altul,<br />
dep<strong>in</strong>de de scenariul pe care s¸i-l scriu s¸i de regia lumii pe care o creează.<br />
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Poveste rece…<br />
COORDONATOR<br />
prof. Do<strong>in</strong>a Mus¸<strong>at</strong>, Grup S¸colar «Nicolae Bălcescu», Oltenit¸a<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Cantacuz Cătăl<strong>in</strong>, Dana Andreea, Eftimie Laurent¸iu,<br />
M<strong>in</strong>cu Loredana, Zamfir Ioana,<br />
Grup S¸colar «Nicolae Bălcescu», Oltenit¸a<br />
Nu cred că vor afla niciod<strong>at</strong>ă unde sunt…<br />
Nu se gândesc niciod<strong>at</strong>ă la m<strong>in</strong>e… au problemele lor, certurile lor <strong>in</strong>term<strong>in</strong>abile<br />
s¸i reci, unde nu pot <strong>in</strong>tra decât ca spect<strong>at</strong>or tăcut sau ca obiect de mobilier. De<br />
fapt, nu pot nici să react¸ionez… nu mai am cuv<strong>in</strong>tele necesare, nu s¸tiu cui să<br />
mă adresez: po<strong>at</strong>e t<strong>at</strong>ălui, că îmi plăcea mai mult să stau cu el, sau po<strong>at</strong>e mamei,<br />
că râdeam cu ea când mergeam la cumpărături uneori. Mai b<strong>in</strong>e nu spun<br />
nimănui, chiar nu este necesar!<br />
Andreea…<br />
O voi suna să-i spun… are mult¸i prieteni… sigur o să mă ajute…<br />
Le voi scrie păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ilor un sms: «Nu vă facet¸i griji. Sunt la bunici la curte».<br />
De ce să le scriu? Po<strong>at</strong>e ar fi mai b<strong>in</strong>e să nu-i anunt¸ nimic! Oricum mama ar<br />
citi mesajul când ar ajunge acasă, mai ales văzând că este scris de m<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
Acum voi scrie Andreei alt sms… nu am bani să dau un telefon: «Sună-mă.<br />
Nu am bani pe cartelă. Am plec<strong>at</strong> de acasă».<br />
Privesc spre telefon s¸i nu sunt surpr<strong>in</strong>să de faptul că acesta nu are decât o<br />
l<strong>in</strong>iut¸ă pe b<strong>at</strong>erie. Nici el nu t¸<strong>in</strong>e cu m<strong>in</strong>e. Îmi v<strong>in</strong>e să-l arunc pe asfaltul<br />
neuniform al trotuarului s¸i să uit de tot ce mă înconjoară. Mă întreb uitându-mă<br />
la umbra mea subt¸ire s¸i mică dacă este c<strong>in</strong>eva pe lumea asta să se gândească la<br />
m<strong>in</strong>e… să mă cheme, să mă strige, să mă ajute cu un sf<strong>at</strong> prietenesc. Mă uit la<br />
telefonul ros¸u pe care îmi am<strong>in</strong>tesc că mi l-a cumpăr<strong>at</strong> un prieten, primul meu<br />
prieten s¸i mama mi-a răsplătit bucuria cu o bătaie îngrozitoare.<br />
331
Atunci am plec<strong>at</strong> de acasă s¸i de la s¸coală pentru prima d<strong>at</strong>ă… am plec<strong>at</strong> la<br />
el… au urm<strong>at</strong> polit¸ia s¸i declar<strong>at</strong>¸iile d<strong>at</strong>e s¸i certuri <strong>in</strong>term<strong>in</strong>abile… s¸i reci, fără<br />
emot¸ii.<br />
Atunci nu eram as¸a de s<strong>in</strong>gură ca acum, erau colegii de s¸coală care m-au<br />
căut<strong>at</strong> s¸i m-au ajut<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Acum nu mă sună nimeni…<br />
As¸tept… as¸tept… as¸tept…<br />
Privesc telefonul de 2 m<strong>in</strong>ute s¸i 30 de secunde.<br />
M-am plictisit s¸i mi s-a făcut s¸i foame. Plimb mâna rece peste burtica<br />
acoperită cu pulovărul gros d<strong>in</strong> lână verde, prefer<strong>at</strong>ul meu. L-am îmbrăc<strong>at</strong> pentru<br />
că s¸tiu că îmi poartă noroc!<br />
Trec pe lângă o vitr<strong>in</strong>ă s¸i, fără să vreau, îmi văd chipul… râd de m<strong>in</strong>e,<br />
deoarece sunt put¸<strong>in</strong> ciufulită de vântul de afară, apoi mă întristez brusc s¸i-mi v<strong>in</strong>e<br />
să plâng, să dau cu pumnii în vitr<strong>in</strong>a care-mi <strong>def</strong>ormează chipul pe care eu îl s¸tiu<br />
prea b<strong>in</strong>e. Mă mai privesc o d<strong>at</strong>ă s¸i-mi s¸terg lacrimile, îmi scot d<strong>in</strong> geantă<br />
s¸ervet¸elele deoarece se pare că s¸i machiajul făcut în dim<strong>in</strong>e<strong>at</strong>¸a asta a avut serios<br />
de suferit.<br />
Privesc în jurul meu. Nici pe stradă nu-i nimeni să mă vadă cât sufăr… nui<br />
nimeni în jurul meu… d<strong>in</strong> nou s<strong>in</strong>gură!<br />
As¸a sunt eu, s<strong>in</strong>gură!<br />
Telefonul…<br />
«Mâ<strong>in</strong>e la s¸coală trebuie să avem culegerea de m<strong>at</strong>em<strong>at</strong>ică. Cartea mea este la<br />
t<strong>in</strong>e. Te rog să mi-o aduci mâ<strong>in</strong>e. Diana».<br />
Trebuie să-i scriu: «Mâ<strong>in</strong>e nu pot veni la s¸coala… cred că nu mai v<strong>in</strong> deloc,<br />
deoarece au apărut anumite probleme personale ce trebuie urgent rezolv<strong>at</strong>e. Ia<br />
s¸i tu culegerea de la o colegă s¸i rezolvi astfel situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia. Îmi pare rău! Mar<strong>in</strong>a»<br />
Două sms-uri erau în as¸teptare cât redactam eu scuza penibilă pentru Diana.<br />
«Ne întâlnim la bar. Voi veni cu prietenul meu s¸i cu Ionut¸, colegul tău de<br />
clasă. Andreea».<br />
Am crezut că s-a m<strong>at</strong>uriz<strong>at</strong> s¸i Andreea, dar la 16 ani se comportă precum<br />
copiii răsfăt¸<strong>at</strong>¸i de 10 ani. Are s¸i de ce să se comporte as¸a, deoarece ai ei păr<strong>in</strong>t¸i<br />
o înt¸eleg perfect în tot ceea ce face… s¸i apoi prietenul ei este <strong>at</strong>ent s¸i cu foarte<br />
multă răbdare.<br />
Nu s¸tiu ce caută tocilarul ăla de Ionut¸ în to<strong>at</strong>ă afacerea asta s¸i de ce Andreea<br />
îl ia după ea. O să afle to<strong>at</strong>ă lumea <strong>in</strong>tent¸ia mea, dar ar fi cazul să nu mă mai<br />
gândesc la asta.<br />
Celălalt sms trebuie citit:<br />
«Ai înnebunit de-a b<strong>in</strong>elea, Mar<strong>in</strong>a? Mai sunt câteva săptămâni până la<br />
sfârs¸itul clasei a X-a!!! Dacă află diriga te-ai dus!!! Sper să fie o glumă nesăr<strong>at</strong>ă s¸i<br />
332
până mâ<strong>in</strong>e o să-t¸i revii s¸i să-t¸i dai seama de ce dezastru te as¸teaptă. Dacă ai<br />
nevoie de ajutor… Diana»<br />
Ajutor!?! C<strong>in</strong>e să mă ajute!?!<br />
«Nu vă facet¸i griji pentru m<strong>in</strong>e! O să mă descurc s<strong>in</strong>gură de d<strong>at</strong>a asta!»<br />
S<strong>in</strong>gură… s<strong>in</strong>gură… s<strong>in</strong>gură…<br />
Păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii mei nici nu s¸i-au d<strong>at</strong> seama că lipsesc de acasă! Dacă mă duc la s¸coală<br />
o să am surpriza ca profa de chimie să nu vrea să mă treacă d<strong>in</strong> motive us¸or de<br />
înt¸eles… absent¸e, absent¸e, absent¸e. Nu m-a întreb<strong>at</strong> în schimb niciod<strong>at</strong>ă dacă<br />
am fost fericită în familia mea, dacă t<strong>at</strong>ăl meu a petrecut momente împreună cu<br />
m<strong>in</strong>e sau s-a bucur<strong>at</strong> alături de m<strong>in</strong>e, dacă mama mea cea des¸teaptă s¸i tot timpul<br />
ocup<strong>at</strong>ă cu slujba bănoasă a sesiz<strong>at</strong> că… sunt însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă…<br />
Am spus-o… Nu credeam că o pot spune niciod<strong>at</strong>ă cu glas tare… Să mai<br />
spun totus¸i o d<strong>at</strong>ă… să t¸ip… Sunt însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă!!!<br />
Un zgomot ciud<strong>at</strong> mă determ<strong>in</strong>ă să-mi rev<strong>in</strong> d<strong>in</strong> visul pe care-l construisem<br />
baz<strong>at</strong> pe o realit<strong>at</strong>e tristă. Telefonul mă anunt¸ă că b<strong>at</strong>eria mea este pe sfârs¸ite…<br />
as¸a cum erau s¸i sperant¸ele mele… pe sfârs¸ite!<br />
«Mar<strong>in</strong>a, noi te as¸teptăm să vii la bar. Unde es¸ti?»<br />
Cu ultimele licăriri ale b<strong>at</strong>eriei am putut trimite un mesaj: «Nu cred că mai<br />
pot veni! Au <strong>in</strong>tervenit mici schimbări în programul meu de astăzi. Am<br />
descoperit ceva m<strong>in</strong>un<strong>at</strong>… Nu vă facet¸i griji pentru m<strong>in</strong>e! Distr<strong>at</strong>¸i-vă! Mar<strong>in</strong>a».<br />
Vântul sufla rece s¸i adierea lui biciuia dureros f<strong>at</strong>¸a mea, corpul meu ch<strong>in</strong>uit<br />
s¸i măc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong> de gânduri.<br />
Noaptea aducea cu ea po<strong>at</strong>e rezolvarea problemelor mele… discut¸ia s<strong>in</strong>ceră<br />
cu familia mea.<br />
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Abandonul s¸colar s¸i tragedia unui bai<strong>at</strong> de 13 ani<br />
COORDONATOR<br />
Oproiu N<strong>at</strong>alia, Asoci<strong>at</strong>¸ia «No Abuse», Bucures¸ti<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Ică Alexandru, Oproiu Eduard Gabriel, Radu Cătăl<strong>in</strong><br />
Povestitorul: Sunt un băi<strong>at</strong> de doar 13 ani s¸i am foarte multe greutăt¸i. Nu mai<br />
s¸tiu ce înseamnă fericirea s¸i răsfăt¸ul ca alt¸i copii de vârsta mea. As¸a a început<br />
povestea unui băiet¸el de 13 ani. Într-o zi se ducea la pi<strong>at</strong>¸ă să cumpere pâ<strong>in</strong>e<br />
s¸i cartofi, deoarece <strong>at</strong>ât îs¸i mai puteau permite s¸i s-a întâlnit cu un fost coleg<br />
de s¸coală, care acum e clasa a VII-a, s¸i care l-a întreb<strong>at</strong>:<br />
Gabriel: Bună! Tu es¸ti cumva Darius, ai abandon<strong>at</strong> s¸coala d<strong>in</strong> clasa a II-a, la<br />
doar 8 ani?<br />
Darius: Bună! Da, este adevăr<strong>at</strong>, mă numesc Darius s¸i am abandon<strong>at</strong> s¸coala, dar<br />
nu d<strong>in</strong> cauza mea, ci d<strong>in</strong> cauza problemelor pe care eu le-am trăit s¸i le trăiesc în<br />
cont<strong>in</strong>uare. Eu nu te cunosc pe t<strong>in</strong>e, nu s¸tiu c<strong>in</strong>e es¸ti dar… daca ai timp să mă<br />
ascult¸i, doresc să ît¸i spun mai multe, deoarece simt nevoia să vorbesc cu c<strong>in</strong>eva<br />
care să mă asculte. Mai mult decât <strong>at</strong>ât, îmi doresc foarte mult un prieten.<br />
Gabriel: B<strong>in</strong>e, de azi îna<strong>in</strong>te, mă numes¸ti prietenul tău, acum hai să mergem în<br />
parc să vorbim mai multe.<br />
Darius: Îmi pare foarte rău, nu pot merge acum, deoarece mă as¸teaptă frăt¸iorii<br />
mei acasă, cu acele cumpărături de care am spus mai devreme, pâ<strong>in</strong>e s¸i cartofi.<br />
Gabriel: Atunci, când vrei să ne vedem?<br />
Darius: Mâ<strong>in</strong>e ies cu fr<strong>at</strong>¸ii mei în parc s¸i <strong>at</strong>unci vorbim. Mult¸umesc pentru<br />
prietenia ta s¸i mai vorbim mâ<strong>in</strong>e.Te salut.<br />
Gabriel: Te salut, de asemenea.<br />
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Povestitorul: A doua zi, Darius a plec<strong>at</strong> în parc cu fr<strong>at</strong>¸ii lui, acolo întâln<strong>in</strong>duse<br />
cu prietenul lui.<br />
Gabriel: Bună, Darius! Ce mai faci?<br />
Darius: Bună, dar eu nu s¸tiu cum te numes¸ti, prietene.<br />
Gabriel: Ieri am uit<strong>at</strong> să mă prez<strong>in</strong>t. Sunt Gabriel s¸i doresc să aflu mai multe<br />
despre abandonul tău s¸colar. De ce ai renunt¸<strong>at</strong> la s¸coală? Erai cel mai bun<br />
copil d<strong>in</strong> clasă, premiant s¸i foarte sociabil. Colegii, când au auzit de t<strong>in</strong>e că<br />
nu mai pot¸i merge la s¸coală, au rămas cu tot¸ii uimit¸i, împreună cu m<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Darius: Îna<strong>in</strong>te de povestea viet¸ii mele reale, deoarece ît¸i spun adevărul, vreau să<br />
îmi cunos¸ti fr<strong>at</strong>¸ii cei mici. Ea este Maria, are 6 ani, iar Cătăl<strong>in</strong>, are 10 ani.<br />
Acum juc<strong>at</strong>¸i–vă în parc! Îmi pare rău de Maria, că e foarte talent<strong>at</strong>ă, are o voce<br />
frumoasă, to<strong>at</strong>ă ziua cântă, dar nu pot face nimic pentru ea, ca să-i descopere<br />
c<strong>in</strong>eva talentul. Acum o să ît¸i spun cauza abandonului meu s¸colar. S¸coala este<br />
visul meu, o să merg la s¸coală, dar mai târziu, când vrea să v<strong>in</strong>ă t<strong>at</strong>ăl meu acasă.<br />
Gabriel: De ce? Unde este?<br />
Darius: D<strong>in</strong> cauza lui s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong> totul. Eram o familie fericită, mergeam la<br />
s¸coală, ne era b<strong>in</strong>e împreună până când t<strong>at</strong>a, lacom de un câs¸tig mai mult, sa<br />
hotărât să plece în stră<strong>in</strong>ăt<strong>at</strong>e. Nu vroia să trăiască decent, se gândea să<br />
trăiască pe picior mare. Nu s-a gândit la noi, la mama, că ne lasă s<strong>in</strong>guri, a<br />
fost un egoist. De la el au început to<strong>at</strong>e necazurile noastre. La început a fost<br />
b<strong>in</strong>e o perioadă de timp deoarece ne trimitea banii necesari de care aveam<br />
nevoie, pentru mâncare s¸i utilităt¸i. Dar, mai târziu, a uit<strong>at</strong> de noi.<br />
Gabriel: Cum adică a uit<strong>at</strong> de voi?<br />
Darius: A uit<strong>at</strong> că are nevastă s¸i copii acasă. Nu mai suna, de bani nici nu mai<br />
vorbesc… Atunci mama lucra de dim<strong>in</strong>e<strong>at</strong>¸ă până noaptea târziu, ca să po<strong>at</strong>ă<br />
să ne întret¸<strong>in</strong>ă s¸i, după to<strong>at</strong>ă osteneala ei să ne fie nouă b<strong>in</strong>e, a răpus-o la p<strong>at</strong><br />
o boală <strong>in</strong>curabilă…<br />
Gabriel: Ce boală?<br />
Darius: A fost la medic că era foarte rău, credea că e d<strong>in</strong> cauza oboselii ei, a<br />
stresului, dar a fost s¸oc<strong>at</strong>ă când a afl<strong>at</strong> că are cancer s¸i e cardiacă. De <strong>in</strong>ima,<br />
numai t<strong>at</strong>ăl meu a îmbolnăvit-o, dar de cancer nu mai s¸tiu… sunt prea mic<br />
s¸i to<strong>at</strong>e astea mă depăs¸esc să le înt¸eleg. Se gândea tot timpul că va muri s¸i<br />
vom rămâne cu bunicii care sunt bătrâni s¸i bolnavi. Dar asta nu e tot. După<br />
1 an de sufer<strong>in</strong>t¸ă s¸i ch<strong>in</strong>, a murit d<strong>in</strong> cauza supărării, făcând un stop cardiac.<br />
Gabriel: Ce mai po<strong>at</strong>e fi mai rău? Să moară mama care t¸i-a d<strong>at</strong> vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă…<br />
Darius: La aflarea decesului mamei mele, am plâns mult, îmi era foarte rău.<br />
Atunci bunica a mers cu m<strong>in</strong>e la doctor s¸i a spus că sunt depresiv d<strong>in</strong> cauza<br />
s¸ocului survenit, am s¸i diabet, tot d<strong>in</strong> cauza supărării cred că l-am făcut, nu<br />
s¸tiu. Au urm<strong>at</strong> zile, luni s¸i ani de ch<strong>in</strong> s¸i jale după moartea mamei, bunica s-<br />
335
a împrumut<strong>at</strong> la to<strong>at</strong>ă lumea pentru înmormântarea mamei, pentru pomenile<br />
mamei pe care le făcea s¸i pentru medicamentele mele de <strong>in</strong>sul<strong>in</strong>ă pe care<br />
trebuie să le fac s¸i acum de 3 ori pe zi. Am fost nevoit să renunt¸ la s¸coală,<br />
deoarece nu am bani nici de mâncare s¸i medicamente, mai ales de rechizite<br />
s¸colare s¸i uniformă s¸colară. Eu nu sunt la fel de norocos ca s¸i t<strong>in</strong>e, să am<br />
păr<strong>in</strong>t¸i, să îmi poarte de grijă, eu sunt cel mare s¸i sunt ca un păr<strong>in</strong>te pentru<br />
fr<strong>at</strong>¸ii mei, având grijă de ei.<br />
Gabriel: Cum ai grijă de ei? Nu sunt bunicii tăi care vă îngrijesc?<br />
Darius: Bunicii mei sunt foarte bătrâni s¸i bolnavi, le este frică să nu moară, să<br />
ne ducă st<strong>at</strong>ul la orfel<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>. Bunica se roagă în fiecare seară la Dumnezeu să o<br />
mai t¸<strong>in</strong>ă în vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă până se întoarce t<strong>at</strong>a, să cres¸tem mari, să putem munci, să<br />
nu plecăm la orfel<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>e. Bunica se roagă să scape s¸i de d<strong>at</strong>oriile foarte mari pe<br />
care le are d<strong>in</strong> cauza mea că sunt bolnav s¸i îmi trebuie medicamente, iar st<strong>at</strong>ul<br />
nu-mi asigură tot tr<strong>at</strong>amentul de care eu am nevoie. Mai trebuie s¸i<br />
medicamentele lor, la care săracii au renunt¸<strong>at</strong> în favoarea mea, plus mâncare<br />
s¸i utilităt¸ile casei, pe care trebuie să le plătească, nu mai vorbesc de ha<strong>in</strong>e s¸i<br />
pantofi… primim de la oamenii cu suflet.<br />
Gabriel: Nu s¸tiam că ai trecut pr<strong>in</strong> <strong>at</strong>âtea necazuri. Îmi pare foarte rău, vorbesc<br />
cu păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii mei, cu t<strong>at</strong>ăl meu care e polit¸ist s¸i po<strong>at</strong>e-l găses¸te pe t<strong>at</strong>ăl tau, săi<br />
spună să v<strong>in</strong>ă acasă.<br />
Darius: Nu cred că v<strong>in</strong>e, chiar dacă îl găses¸te.<br />
Gabriel: De ce nu crezi că v<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Darius: A uit<strong>at</strong> de noi, că trăim. Po<strong>at</strong>e acum are o altă familie s¸i alt¸ii copii.<br />
Omul se schimbă în 5 ani, nu crezi?<br />
Gabriel: Nu s¸tiu ce să cred, dar sunt sigur că vă iubes¸te. Po<strong>at</strong>e s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong> ceva<br />
s¸i cu el, nu crezi?<br />
Darius: Greutăt¸ile pr<strong>in</strong> care am trecut m-au m<strong>at</strong>uriz<strong>at</strong> foarte mult s¸i îmi este<br />
greu să cred în vise s¸i sperant¸e. S<strong>in</strong>cer, eu nu cred că se va întoarce sau că este<br />
bolnav. Au trecut deja 5 ani! În 5 ani, măcar un telefon trebuia să primim,<br />
să ne spună dacă e bolnav, dacă v<strong>in</strong>e acasă sau dacă ne mai iubes¸te. S<strong>in</strong>cer,<br />
cred că t<strong>at</strong>a ne-a abandon<strong>at</strong> cum am abandon<strong>at</strong> eu s¸coala, s¸i nu d<strong>in</strong> cauza<br />
nevo<strong>in</strong>t¸ei mele de a nu mai merge la s¸coală, ci d<strong>in</strong> cauza situ<strong>at</strong>¸iei în care mă<br />
aflu s¸i acum.<br />
Gabriel: Îmi pare foarte rău pentru t<strong>in</strong>e. Nu s¸tiam că vi<strong>at</strong>¸a ta este o adevăr<strong>at</strong>ă<br />
tragedie. S¸tii că sperant¸a moare ultima. Eu te voi ajuta cât pot, deoarece ai<br />
fost s<strong>in</strong>cer cu m<strong>in</strong>e s¸i mi-ai spus de vi<strong>at</strong>¸a ta.<br />
Darius: Mult¸umesc mult pentru înt¸elegere, sper să ne vedem curând,<br />
b<strong>in</strong>eînt¸eles dacă ît¸i face plăcere să vorbes¸ti cu m<strong>in</strong>e, după ce ai afl<strong>at</strong> că sunt<br />
bolnav de diabet.<br />
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Gabriel: Normal că ne mai vedem. Doar suntem prieteni,nu?<br />
Darius: Normal. Te salut.<br />
Gabriel: S¸i eu la fel.<br />
Darius: Maria, Cătăl<strong>in</strong>, haidet¸i acasă!<br />
Maria: Mai stăm put¸<strong>in</strong> să ne jucăm.<br />
Darius: Nu putem sta, deoarece o supărăm pe bunica care este îngrijor<strong>at</strong>ă s¸i<br />
bolnavă.<br />
Maria: B<strong>in</strong>e, v<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Povestitorul: Copiii au plec<strong>at</strong> acasă, dar băi<strong>at</strong>ul cel mare, Darius, se gândea la<br />
t<strong>at</strong>ăl lui. Tot timpul în m<strong>in</strong>tea lui erau întrebări de genul: Suntem noi<br />
v<strong>in</strong>ov<strong>at</strong>¸i de ce se întâmplă? Am gres¸it eu cu ceva? L-am supăr<strong>at</strong> pe t<strong>at</strong>a as¸a de<br />
tare, încât a vrut să plece, să scape de noi? Sigur cred că nu ne iubes¸te… Oare,<br />
dacă pr<strong>in</strong>tr-o m<strong>in</strong>une, se întoarce t<strong>at</strong>a acasă, <strong>at</strong>unci po<strong>at</strong>e voi putea merge<br />
d<strong>in</strong> nou la s¸coală.<br />
Darius: Dar mai b<strong>in</strong>e nu visez s¸i mă gândesc că dest<strong>in</strong>ul a vrut să se întâmple<br />
tragedia asta. Totus¸i mă voi ruga lui Dumnezeu să mă fac b<strong>in</strong>e s¸i d<strong>in</strong> cer să<br />
v<strong>in</strong>ă o salvare, să scape bunicii de to<strong>at</strong>e d<strong>at</strong>oriile pe care le au, să dubleze<br />
pensiile care sunt foarte mici s¸i să ne crească s¸i nouă aloc<strong>at</strong>¸iile care sunt doar<br />
10 euro pe lună.<br />
Povestitorul: S¸i i<strong>at</strong>ă că m<strong>in</strong>unea a venit: t<strong>at</strong>ăl lui Gabriel a verific<strong>at</strong>, a sun<strong>at</strong> s¸i<br />
l-a găsit pe t<strong>at</strong>ăl copiilor. L-a anunt¸<strong>at</strong> despre moartea sot¸iei s¸i despre<br />
abandonul s¸colar al băi<strong>at</strong>ului cel mare, Darius.<br />
La aflarea ves¸tii acesteia, t<strong>at</strong>ăl lui Darius a lu<strong>at</strong> avionul urgent s¸i a venit în<br />
România, acasă la copii. Bunicii, fără sperant¸ă, fi<strong>in</strong>d gravi bolnavi, se rugau<br />
lui Dumnezeu să facă o m<strong>in</strong>une. Atunci m<strong>in</strong>unea a venit, pr<strong>in</strong> t<strong>at</strong>ăl copiilor<br />
care s-a întors acasă d<strong>in</strong> stră<strong>in</strong>ăt<strong>at</strong>e cu mult¸i bani. Văzându-l, copiii nu-s¸i<br />
puteau stăpâni lacrimile de emot¸ii s¸i de bucurie. Bunicii i-au spus t<strong>at</strong>ălui că<br />
acum pot muri în l<strong>in</strong>is¸te, deoarece au în grija cui rămâne nepot¸ii lor. T<strong>at</strong>ăl,<br />
aflând de d<strong>at</strong>oriile bunicilor, le plătes¸te, regretă că a uit<strong>at</strong> c<strong>in</strong>ci ani de zile de<br />
copiii lui s¸i că băi<strong>at</strong>ul cel mare Darius s-a îmbolnăvit s¸i a abandon<strong>at</strong> s¸coala.<br />
A afl<strong>at</strong> că nici ceilalt¸i fr<strong>at</strong>¸i nu s-au dus vreod<strong>at</strong>ă la s¸coală. Atunci, t<strong>at</strong>ăl s-a dus<br />
să-i înscrie pe copii la s¸coală, în clasa I pe Maria s¸i pe Cătăl<strong>in</strong>, iar Darius săs¸i<br />
reia studiile d<strong>in</strong> clasa a III-a, de unde a abandon<strong>at</strong> s¸coala.<br />
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SCENA I<br />
Fr<strong>at</strong>¸ii<br />
COORDONATOR<br />
Ana Maria – Centrul «S<strong>in</strong>tagma», Bucures¸ti;<br />
Elisabeta S¸erbănescu – Asoci<strong>at</strong>¸ia «No Abuse», Bucures¸ti<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Maria Petre, Alexandra Sava, Alexandru Niculae<br />
Întuneric. Se aud două voci de copii.<br />
Giany: Alex…<br />
Alex: Ce-i?<br />
Giany: Când vom fi mari, vei rămâne în cont<strong>in</strong>uare fr<strong>at</strong>ele meu?<br />
Alex [sigur pe el]: Sigur că voi rămâne. Nimic n-o să ne despartă!<br />
Giany: S¸i promit¸i că vei avea grijă de m<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Alex [la fel de sigur]: Ît¸i promit! Până la moarte! Dar ce t¸i-a venit as¸a, d<strong>in</strong>tr-o d<strong>at</strong>ă?<br />
Giany [us¸or speri<strong>at</strong>]: Nu s¸tiu, Alex, dar… [cu o voce tremurândă] mi-e frică. Mie<br />
tare frică.<br />
SCENA II<br />
Întuneric. Se aud câteva bocănituri. Lum<strong>in</strong>i slabe se apleacă peste cei 2 fr<strong>at</strong>¸i ce<br />
studiază în colt¸ul d<strong>in</strong> dreapta al scenei. În stânga scenei t<strong>at</strong>ăl nervos s¸i agit<strong>at</strong> stă pe<br />
un fotoliu s¸i fumează. D<strong>in</strong> când în când îs¸i scutură t¸igara pe podea s¸i soarbe d<strong>in</strong>trun<br />
pahar de v<strong>in</strong>. D<strong>in</strong> colt¸ul stâng al scenei <strong>in</strong>tră mama, obosită, cu cearcăne<br />
puternic evident¸i<strong>at</strong>e s¸i sacos¸e în ambele mâ<strong>in</strong>i. Închide us¸a. Oftează.<br />
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T<strong>at</strong>ăl [fierbând]: Acum se v<strong>in</strong>e, femeie nenorocită?<br />
Mama [cu o voce tremurândă]: Păi… Am fost la…<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl [furios]: La produs ai fost, târfo! Acolo t¸i-e locul.<br />
Copiii lasă cărt¸ile jos. Giany începe să tremure, iar Alex îi acoperă urechile cu<br />
mâ<strong>in</strong>ile. Între timp, t<strong>at</strong>ăl se ridică de pe fotoliu s¸i se îndreaptă către sacos¸ele lăs<strong>at</strong>e<br />
de mamă pe masă. Caută pr<strong>in</strong>tre ele, apoi pl<strong>in</strong> de furie se întoarce spre sot¸ie.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: Unde mi-e, fă, sticla? Nemernico!<br />
Mama: Da’ t¸ie chiar nu t¸i-e rus¸<strong>in</strong>e? La cât muncesc eu to<strong>at</strong>ă ziua, la cât de greu<br />
o ducem, tu ai acum tupeu să-mi ceri să dau banii pe băutură?! Cu ce hrănim<br />
copiii ăs¸tia? Cu aer? Bei prea mult, omule! S¸i o să te distrugă băutura asta,<br />
ascultă la m<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl îi dă o palmă mamei.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: Nu-mi spui tu mie cât să beau!<br />
D<strong>in</strong> dreapta scenei, copiii sar să o apere pe mamă. T<strong>at</strong>ăl îi împ<strong>in</strong>ge.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: La o parte, puricos¸ilor! Mars¸ la voi în cameră la învăt¸<strong>at</strong>!<br />
Mama: Nu cumva să dai în ei! Ce t¸i-au făcut acum? N-au făcut nimic!<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: Taci! Pleacă! Să nu te mai văd!<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl o împ<strong>in</strong>ge pe mamă, care cade. Îi scormones¸te pr<strong>in</strong> geantă, ia nis¸te bani s¸i iese<br />
d<strong>in</strong> scenă. Copii se apleacă asupra mamei s¸i plâng. După câteva secunde, Giany se<br />
ridică s¸i o ia la fugă. Iese pr<strong>in</strong> stânga scenei. Alex rămâne aplec<strong>at</strong> asupra mamei. O<br />
t¸<strong>in</strong>e de mână s¸i cont<strong>in</strong>uă să plângă. Lum<strong>in</strong>a se concentrează pe ei, apoi se st<strong>in</strong>ge.<br />
SCENA III<br />
Întuneric. În dreapta scenei, la colt¸ul unui bloc se află o gas¸că de băiet¸i care râd s¸i<br />
discută. Unii fac breakdance pe o melodie hip hop. În dreapta stă Giany pe nis¸te<br />
trepte s¸i se uită trist spre ceilalt¸i. După câteva secunde muzica se opres¸te.<br />
Giany: Ei de ce sunt <strong>at</strong>ât de fericit¸i? Cum de nu au nicio grijă? S¸i cum de pentru<br />
ei to<strong>at</strong>e sunt <strong>at</strong>ât de bune? Nu cred că mai rezist mult. E as¸a de greu, mai ales<br />
de când mama nu mai e. Taică-miu… nu l-am mai văzut acasă de-o lună.<br />
339
[Oftează]. Oare chiar nu am cum să uit de to<strong>at</strong>e astea? Nu am cum să scap?<br />
Cred că merită să încerc, măcar o d<strong>at</strong>ă. Nu am ce să pierd. Trebuie să încerc!<br />
Giany se ridică s¸i se îndreaptă spre gas¸că. Băiet¸ii îl privesc întâi sceptic, apoi dau<br />
noroc cu el. Se aude d<strong>in</strong> nou medolia hip hop, în timp ce Giany vorbes¸te cu liderul<br />
găs¸tii. Acesta se codes¸te, dar în f<strong>in</strong>al îi dă lui Giany o t¸igară.<br />
SCENA IV<br />
Acelas¸i decor, aceeas¸i gas¸că, împreună cu Giany. Liderul îl ia de gât pe Giany.<br />
Liderul: Ia zi, fr<strong>at</strong>e, es¸ti pregătit? De d<strong>at</strong>a asta o facem! Da?<br />
Giany [ezitant]: B<strong>in</strong>e, mă, Glont¸. O facem.<br />
Glont¸: Fii, mă, mai conv<strong>in</strong>s! Ce p… mea! După lovitura asta o să fim cei mai<br />
jmecheri [«j’nebun»].<br />
Un alt membru al găs¸tii: Ce, mă? T¸i-e frică? T¸i s-a făcut frică?<br />
Giany: Nu, fr<strong>at</strong>e, da’ mi-e aiurea as¸a…<br />
Alex <strong>in</strong>tră în scenă s¸i ascultă la ce se vorbes¸te.<br />
Glont¸: Bă! Es¸ti cu noi sau nu es¸ti? Dacă nu vrei, asta e, da’ pe urmă să nu vii la<br />
noi s¸i să te faci că suntem prieteni. C<strong>in</strong>e ît¸i mai dă t¸ie iarbă? C<strong>in</strong>e te mai<br />
jmecheres¸te pe t<strong>in</strong>e? A? Treaba ta, fr<strong>at</strong>e!<br />
Giany: Da, mă, g<strong>at</strong>a! Sunt cu voi! Cum să nu fiu?<br />
Glont¸: As¸a, fr<strong>at</strong>ele meu.<br />
Îl ia de gât d<strong>in</strong> nou. B<strong>at</strong> cuba. Alex se aproprie s¸i îl ia pe Giany deoparte.<br />
Alex: Cu ăs¸tia stai tu, mă?<br />
Giany: Ce vrei? Ce are?<br />
Alex: D-asta nu ai mai venit acasă? La s¸coală?<br />
Giany: Ei, da… Nu!<br />
Alex: Atunci?<br />
Giany: Ce… e treaba ta? Lasă-mă! Sictir!<br />
Alex: Ascută-mă, mă, s¸i pe m<strong>in</strong>e… Nu e b<strong>in</strong>e. Nu e b<strong>in</strong>e deloc, să s¸tii!<br />
Giany: Ce nu e b<strong>in</strong>e, mă? Ce s¸tii tu?<br />
Alex: S¸tiu destul. Ascultă. Am vorbit cu bunica s¸i nu o să mai stăm aici.<br />
Mergem la ei la Timis¸oara. A?<br />
340
Giany: De ce?<br />
Alex: Cum de ce? Ce să facem aici? Nu vezi că suntem s<strong>in</strong>guri; nu mai avem pe<br />
nimeni…<br />
Giany: Tu es¸ti s<strong>in</strong>gur. Es¸ti prea prost.<br />
Alex: De ce vorbes¸ti, mă, as¸a? Nu înt¸elegi că mergem acolo? Stăm acolo. Ca în<br />
vacant¸ele de vară, doar că acum o să facem s¸i s¸coală acolo. S¸tii că bunicu’ a<br />
fost profesor. Ne găses¸te el o s¸coală bună. Nu e problemă.<br />
Giany: Du-te tu! Pe m<strong>in</strong>e nu mă <strong>in</strong>teresează.<br />
Glont¸: Giany! Ia v<strong>in</strong>o, mă, un pic!<br />
Giany: Imedi<strong>at</strong>, Glont¸. Stai as¸a. [spre Alex] Vezi? Nu sunt s<strong>in</strong>gur. Nu am<br />
probleme. Nu te t¸<strong>in</strong> aici cu m<strong>in</strong>e. Dacă vrei, pleacă. Dar nici tu nu mă obliga<br />
să v<strong>in</strong> cu t<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Alex: Eu…să s¸tii…t¸i-am zis doar…as¸a e mai b<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Giany: Po<strong>at</strong>e. Da’ tot nu v<strong>in</strong>. Eu rămân aici.<br />
Alex: B<strong>in</strong>e. Po<strong>at</strong>e te răzgândes¸ti.<br />
Alex iese d<strong>in</strong> scenă. Giany stă put¸<strong>in</strong> pe gânduri.<br />
Giany [pentru el]: Nu mă răzgândesc. Niciod<strong>at</strong>ă nu o să mă răzgândesc.<br />
Se aude un fragment d<strong>in</strong> piesa Avem acelas¸i sânge în v<strong>in</strong>e – BUG Mafia, în care<br />
se vorbes¸te despre trecerea timpului. Unul d<strong>in</strong> versuri zice «Fr<strong>at</strong>¸i vom fi până <strong>at</strong>unci<br />
când moartea ne va despărt¸i»…<br />
SCENA V<br />
Trei bărb<strong>at</strong>¸i stau la masă. Joacă poker.<br />
Giany: Check.<br />
Glont¸: Check s¸i eu. Giany, să s¸tii că am vândut prafurile, bună marfă ai adus.<br />
Al treilea: Încă 100.<br />
Glont¸: Ît¸i dau.<br />
Giany: S¸i eu. Pune ultima carte. As¸a au zis băiet¸ii? Că e bună? Le-a plăcut, da?<br />
Check.<br />
Glont¸: Da, da. Păi cum să nu le placă? Mă bag all <strong>in</strong>.<br />
Al treilea: Ha! Ăsta face cacealma! Uită-te la f<strong>at</strong>¸a asta de am<strong>at</strong>or. Merg.<br />
Giany: Eu nu merg.<br />
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D<strong>in</strong> cele două părt¸i ale scenei apar masc<strong>at</strong>¸i care se strâng încet spre masă s¸i o<br />
înconjoară.<br />
Al treilea: Bă Giany, ăsta nu are nimic, mă, vrea doar să ne sperie.<br />
Giany: Tot nu merg.<br />
Glont¸: Joacă, mă, aici. Lasă-l pe Giany. Nu merge, nu merge.<br />
Al treilea: Să te văd! Ce ai?<br />
Glont¸: Full!<br />
Al treilea [aruncă cărt¸ile]: Iar, mă?<br />
Unul d<strong>in</strong>tre masc<strong>at</strong>¸i: POLIT¸IA! NU MIS¸CĂ NIMENI!<br />
Giany sco<strong>at</strong>e un pistol, moment în care masc<strong>at</strong>¸ii trag s¸i-l împus¸că. Giany se prăbus¸es¸te<br />
la podea. Ceilalt¸i doi sunt scos¸i cu cătus¸e d<strong>in</strong> scenă de masc<strong>at</strong>¸i. În scenă rămâne doar<br />
un masc<strong>at</strong>, care se îndreaptă spre Giany s¸i-s¸i dă cagula jos. Masc<strong>at</strong>ul este Alex.<br />
Alex [îl ia de cot pe Giany]: Mis¸că!<br />
Giany: Au!<br />
Alex: Mis¸că mai repede, altfel o să te doară s¸i mai tare!<br />
Giany: Hai sictir!<br />
Alex [confuz]: Giany! Giany, fr<strong>at</strong>e, tu es¸ti?<br />
Giany [îl prives¸te în ochi]: Nu! [îl împ<strong>in</strong>ge] Eu nu sunt fr<strong>at</strong>e cu t<strong>in</strong>e, câ<strong>in</strong>e! Asta<br />
es¸ti, asta ai ajuns, un câ<strong>in</strong>e de milit¸ian.<br />
Alex: S¸i tu? Tu vorbes¸ti? Tu ce ai ajuns, mă? Uită-te la t<strong>in</strong>e…<br />
Giany: Asta e treaba mea!<br />
Alex: Păi nu e treaba ta, mă. Asta e treaba mea, să te arestez, nenorocitule. Un<br />
nenorocit, asta ai ajuns!<br />
Giany: Arestează-mă!<br />
Alex: T¸ie chiar nu-t¸i pasă?<br />
Giany: Bă, mă arestezi sau nu? Arestează-mă od<strong>at</strong>ă!<br />
Alex: O să ajungi la pus¸cărie.<br />
Giany: Du-mă! Du-mă acolo tu, cu mâna ta. Să văd dacă-mi es¸ti fr<strong>at</strong>e, animalule!<br />
Alex: Adică? S¸i ce-ai vrea acum? Să te scap?<br />
Giany: Nu, du-mă la polit¸ie, as¸a fac fr<strong>at</strong>¸ii…<br />
Alex: Parcă nu eram fr<strong>at</strong>¸i.<br />
Giany: Am fost! Am mai fi fost s¸i acum, po<strong>at</strong>e, dacă nu erai javră de polit¸ist.<br />
Alex: Javra asta de polit¸ist o să te ducă chiar acum la sect¸ie. O să primes¸ti ce<br />
merit¸i. Îmi pare rău, dar as¸a trebuie.<br />
Alex îi pune cătus¸e lui Giany s¸i-l sco<strong>at</strong>e d<strong>in</strong> scenă.<br />
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SCENA VI<br />
O masă în centrul scenei. Într-o parte stă Alex, în cealaltă Giany cu cătus¸e. Alex îi<br />
înt<strong>in</strong>de lui Giany un pachet.<br />
Alex: Poftim!<br />
Giany: Ce-i aici?<br />
Alex: Ce mi-ai cerut.<br />
Giany: T¸igări?<br />
Alex: Da. [îl studiază pe Giany] Văd că ai tot br<strong>at</strong>¸ul în pansament.<br />
Giany [furios]: Dă-l dracului! Mai b<strong>in</strong>e îl pierdeam decât să suport durerea asta.<br />
Alex: Vorbes¸ti prostii! Degeaba te prefaci că nu-t¸i pasă.<br />
Tac amândoi câteva secunde. Privesc în podea.<br />
Alex [ridică privirea spre Giany] Am vorbit la tribunal.<br />
Giany: S¸i?<br />
Alex: Nu s¸tiu… Au hotărât deja, s¸tii prea b<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Giany: Înt¸eleg. Ît¸i mult¸umesc, fr<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Alex: Nu ai pentru ce.<br />
Tac d<strong>in</strong> nou, cu privirea în pământ.<br />
Giany: Nu mai rezist. Înt¸elegi? Chiar nu cred că mai rezist. Ăs¸tia se poartă aici<br />
de parcă nu am fi oameni.<br />
Alex: O să mai vorbesc.<br />
Giany: Cu c<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Alex: Nu-t¸i face probleme, cunosc destui oameni important¸i, t¸i-am zis. O să<br />
vezi, o să fie b<strong>in</strong>e. Măcar să te tr<strong>at</strong>eze ca lumea.<br />
Giany: Să fie b<strong>in</strong>e? As¸a te-ai gândit tu? Că o să fie b<strong>in</strong>e? Dar te-ai gândit s¸i dacă<br />
se po<strong>at</strong>e? La ce am făcut, crezi că merit?<br />
Alex: Es¸ti aici d<strong>in</strong> v<strong>in</strong>a lui Glont¸. L-ai lăs<strong>at</strong> să te manipuleze cum a vrut el. Noi<br />
pe el am vrut să-l pr<strong>in</strong>dem. Ce mama naibii căutai acolo?<br />
Giany tace. Alex ridică d<strong>in</strong> umeri s¸i-l prives¸te <strong>in</strong>sistent.<br />
Giany [fără să se uite la Alex]: C<strong>in</strong>e crezi că o să se îndure de m<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Alex: Eu! Eu o să mă îndur de t<strong>in</strong>e, fr<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Giany: Ai avut drept<strong>at</strong>e, am ajuns un nenorocit… ca oricare altu`.<br />
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Alex: Eu am vrut să te ajut încă de când eram copii. Mai s¸tii? Dar <strong>at</strong>unci n-ai<br />
vrut…<br />
Giany: Nu-mi aduce am<strong>in</strong>te, te rog. Chiar nu vreau să s¸tiu. Crede-mă, daca as¸<br />
putea să dau timpul înapoi… Te-as¸ asculta. As¸ veni cu t<strong>in</strong>e la s¸coală, la<br />
Timis¸oara, oriunde… Tu ai s¸tiut mereu ce e b<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Alex: Nu-t¸i face probleme. O să fie b<strong>in</strong>e. [îl ia de mâ<strong>in</strong>i] T¸ii m<strong>in</strong>te? Fr<strong>at</strong>¸i vom<br />
fi până <strong>at</strong>unci când moartea ne va despărt¸i.<br />
Giany: Asta-i tot ce mi-a rămas, pentru că nu te-am ascult<strong>at</strong> când trebuia. Tu,<br />
fr<strong>at</strong>e!<br />
Lum<strong>in</strong>a se st<strong>in</strong>ge peste cei doi t¸<strong>in</strong>ându-se de mâ<strong>in</strong>i.<br />
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Sticle goale<br />
COORDONATOR<br />
Mihaela Vechiu, Asoci<strong>at</strong>¸ia «No Abuse», Bucures¸ti<br />
ASISTENT¸I<br />
Aura Bardescu, Carmen Stanciu, Raluca Moisescu,<br />
voluntari Asoci<strong>at</strong>¸ia «No Abuse», Bucures¸ti,<br />
Gheorghe Gabriel s¸i Vechiu Cristian – sesiuni de <strong>in</strong>tervent¸ie<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Simona Banu, Raluca Boba, Andreea Damian, Ana Maria Lazăr<br />
Fis¸ă de personaje<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a are 16 ani. Este o adolescentă slăbut¸ă, destul de înaltă (în jur de 1,70),<br />
cu trăsături f<strong>in</strong>e, părul blond n<strong>at</strong>ural, ochii deschis¸i la culoare. Atrage privirile<br />
în primul rând d<strong>at</strong>orită ochilor foarte puternic evident¸i<strong>at</strong>¸i pr<strong>in</strong> machiaj, cu<br />
derm<strong>at</strong>ograf s¸i rimel. Calcă apăs<strong>at</strong> s¸i merge cu umerii drept¸i. Expresia fet¸ei este<br />
oarecum împietrită. Nu zâmbes¸te. Mus¸chii fet¸ei sunt încord<strong>at</strong>¸i, privirea fixă,<br />
sfidătoare s¸i ofensivă. Părul pare tot timpul nepieptăn<strong>at</strong>, aranj<strong>at</strong> în mare grabă.<br />
Un fel de manifest al nonconformismului. Se îmbracă mai tot timpul în blugi<br />
s¸i tricou, poartă tenes¸i sau adidas¸i, niciod<strong>at</strong>ă sandale, niciod<strong>at</strong>ă tocuri.<br />
După divort¸ul păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ilor, dev<strong>in</strong>e extrem de agresivă. Nu are prietene.<br />
Frecventează anturaje de băiet¸i, în general, s¸i pare că se simte în largul ei cu<br />
băiet¸ii. Când este în astfel de anturaje, râde zgomotos, gesticulează, fumează des,<br />
vorbes¸te tare, înjură. Foloses¸te foarte mult telefonul care stă tot timpul pe<br />
pachetul de t¸igări pe care îl sco<strong>at</strong>e pe masă. Fie că vorbes¸te, fie că dă mesaje,<br />
telefonul pare a fi un obiect extrem de pret¸ios pentru ea. La s¸coală, s-a obis¸nuit<br />
ca fetele să îi s¸tie de frică. Nu numai că le vorbes¸te urât s¸i le amen<strong>in</strong>t¸ă, dar este<br />
oricând preg<strong>at</strong>ită să sară la bătaie. Este foarte surpr<strong>in</strong>să s¸i irit<strong>at</strong>ă când una d<strong>in</strong>tre<br />
colege îi răspunde la <strong>in</strong>sulte s¸i pare decisă să o înfrunte.<br />
345
O d<strong>at</strong>ă <strong>in</strong>tr<strong>at</strong>ă în anturajul de la bloc, începe să fumeze marijuana. Pare să<br />
aibă o rel<strong>at</strong>¸ie d<strong>in</strong> ce în ce mai apropi<strong>at</strong>ă cu un băi<strong>at</strong> put¸<strong>in</strong> mai mare decât ea,<br />
care face t<strong>at</strong>uaje. Este extrem de mândră de t<strong>at</strong>uajul pe care acesta i-l face pe gât,<br />
un desen care reprez<strong>in</strong>tă o frunză de marijuana. Adoptă cât mai mult posibil<br />
stilul de vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă al băi<strong>at</strong>ului, <strong>in</strong>cluzând gusturile lui în m<strong>at</strong>erie de muzică, filme,<br />
petrecere a timpului liber.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl are în jur de 43 de ani, este înalt, un bărb<strong>at</strong> m<strong>at</strong>ur care ar<strong>at</strong>ă încă b<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Aspectul este însă oarecum neîngrijit: neras, îmbrăc<strong>at</strong> în aceias¸i blugi s¸i, parcă,<br />
acelas¸i tricou. O m<strong>in</strong>ă obosită, po<strong>at</strong>e s¸i d<strong>at</strong>orită faptului că fumează foarte mult.<br />
În mână sau în scrumieră, are mereu o t¸igară apr<strong>in</strong>să. Are o muncă de birou<br />
care, se pare, că nu îi aduce foarte multe s<strong>at</strong>isfact¸ii. Când v<strong>in</strong>e acasă, nu îs¸i<br />
dores¸te decât să stea pe canapea s¸i să se uite la tv. S-a însur<strong>at</strong> tânăr s¸i T<strong>in</strong>a a<br />
apărut devreme în vi<strong>at</strong>¸a lui. Uneori, i se pare că nu s¸tie cum să comunice cu ea.<br />
Ar vrea ca sot¸ia lui să îi acorde mai multă <strong>at</strong>ent¸ie fiicei lor, mai ales acum când<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a este adolescentă. După ce divort¸ează s¸i o întâlnes¸te pe Dana, este foarte<br />
pr<strong>in</strong>s în noua rel<strong>at</strong>¸ie. Atent¸ia f<strong>at</strong>¸ă de fiica lui scade dram<strong>at</strong>ic s¸i T<strong>in</strong>a simte acest<br />
lucru, însă nu s¸tie cum să îi spună.<br />
Mama<br />
Mama are în jur de 40 de ani, păr s¸<strong>at</strong>en, pr<strong>in</strong>s de obicei într-un coc lejer. Este<br />
destul de înaltă, zveltă, o siluetă încă tânară s¸i <strong>at</strong>răgătoare. Este mereu în<br />
mis¸care, fie că este la serviciu, unde det¸<strong>in</strong>e o pozit¸ie destul de importantă care<br />
o responsabilizează, cât s¸i acasă unde îs¸i găses¸te mereu ceva de făcut. La serviciu,<br />
se îmbracă sobru s¸i elegant, fustă, tocuri, fard discret; acasă, preferă blugi s¸i<br />
tricou, dar mereu îngrijită, fard<strong>at</strong>ă, cu cercei, <strong>in</strong>ele. Merge la sală s¸i la cosmetică,<br />
are programul foarte b<strong>in</strong>e stabilit s¸i, de obicei, foarte încărc<strong>at</strong>. Pare tot timpul<br />
nel<strong>in</strong>is¸tită, stres<strong>at</strong>ă, as¸teptând parcă să se întâmple ceva care să îi schimbe vi<strong>at</strong>¸a.<br />
În ultima vreme, nu mai suportă fumul d<strong>in</strong> casă, mai ales că s-a las<strong>at</strong> de fum<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Are ticuri nervoase – juc<strong>at</strong>ul cu cheile, cu telefonul mobil. Nu are foarte mult<br />
timp pentru T<strong>in</strong>a. Ar vrea să se po<strong>at</strong>ă impune în f<strong>at</strong>¸a ei, cât s¸i în f<strong>at</strong>¸a sot¸ului.<br />
Vocea ei sună autoritar, <strong>at</strong>âta timp cât se po<strong>at</strong>e controla. Imedi<strong>at</strong> ce îs¸i pierde<br />
cumpătul, s¸i acest lucru se întâmplă destul de repede s¸i destul de des, vocea<br />
dev<strong>in</strong>e stridentă s¸i aproape disper<strong>at</strong>ă.<br />
Profesorul de logică<br />
Profesor tânăr, în jur de 35-37 de ani. Îmbrăc<strong>at</strong> mereu îngrijit, este cons¸tient<br />
de faptul că, în mediul liceal, constituie un model pentru adolescent¸ii cărora le<br />
346
predă. Acordă tuturor elevilor s¸anse egale. Nu îi judecă după aparent¸e (de<br />
exemplu, după cum se îmbracă). Nu îi pedepses¸te pentru că nu au prezent¸ă la<br />
cursul lui. Încearcă să fie cât mai corect s¸i mai obiectiv posibil. Este impresion<strong>at</strong><br />
de <strong>in</strong>teligent¸a T<strong>in</strong>ei, care reus¸es¸te să se descurce de nota 10, fără să fi benefici<strong>at</strong><br />
de explic<strong>at</strong>¸iile lui, as¸a cum au benefici<strong>at</strong> ceilalt¸i elevi care au fost prezent¸i la ore.<br />
Îi ia apărarea T<strong>in</strong>ei în consiliu s¸i este dispus să îi mai acorde o s¸ansă.<br />
Directoarea Mândrut¸escu<br />
Doamna directoare are peste 50 de ani. Îna<strong>in</strong>te de a ocupa funct¸ia de<br />
directoare, a fost directoare adjunctă. Acum, în sfârs¸it, po<strong>at</strong>e să se impună as¸a<br />
cum îs¸i dorea de mult timp. Se îmbracă în culori stridente (sacou s¸i fustă), se<br />
fardează s¸i se vopses¸te la fel de strident. Vorbes¸te apăs<strong>at</strong>, destul de repede s¸i are<br />
prostul obicei de a întrerupe pe oric<strong>in</strong>e încearcă să îs¸i exprime/ impună o parere.<br />
Este divort¸<strong>at</strong>ă s¸i are un băi<strong>at</strong> care este plec<strong>at</strong> d<strong>in</strong> t¸ară de foarte mult timp. Este<br />
extrem de strictă în ceea ce prives¸te regulile liceului s¸i nutres¸te ambit¸ia de a<br />
ridica nivelul liceului pr<strong>in</strong> nis¸te măsuri s¸i str<strong>at</strong>egii radicale, gândite de ea de-a<br />
lungul a mai mult¸i ani. Face abuz de putere s¸i amen<strong>in</strong>t¸ă profesorii că îi<br />
concediază de fiecare d<strong>at</strong>ă când nu se supun necondit¸ion<strong>at</strong> deciziilor ei.<br />
Domnis¸oara profesoară<br />
Are în jur de 30 de ani, părul lung s¸i l<strong>in</strong>s, poartă ochelari. Se îmbracă cu<br />
rochii/ fuste lungi, nu poartă tocuri, nu se fardează. Este mereu pe fugă s¸i are o<br />
geantă foarte volum<strong>in</strong>oasă în care sunt amestec<strong>at</strong>e cărt¸i, caiete, agenda etc. Este<br />
o profesoară care reus¸es¸te să se impună în f<strong>at</strong>¸a elevilor, cu to<strong>at</strong>e că nu este severă.<br />
Este devot<strong>at</strong>ă profesiei sale s¸i copiii simt acest lucru. Încearcă să îs¸i cunoască cât<br />
mai b<strong>in</strong>e elevii s¸i să comunice cu ei cât mai mult posibil. Nu îi este frică să îs¸i<br />
exprime părerile, să facă op<strong>in</strong>ie separ<strong>at</strong>ă f<strong>at</strong>¸ă de restul profesorilor s¸i chiar să o<br />
înfrunte pe doamna directoare Mândrut¸escu.<br />
Leo – tipul care t<strong>at</strong>uează<br />
Are în jur de 18 ani, ras în cap, corp <strong>at</strong>letic, are mai multe t<strong>at</strong>uaje pe corp,<br />
poartă tricouri tip maiou. A renunt¸<strong>at</strong> la s¸coală, trăies¸te d<strong>in</strong> banii pe care îi ia pe<br />
t<strong>at</strong>uajele pe care le face. Are o motocicletă de care este foarte mândru, este foarte<br />
popular pr<strong>in</strong>tre cei care frecventează barul unde v<strong>in</strong>e s¸i grupul T<strong>in</strong>ei.<br />
Cristi – tipul dubios<br />
În jur de 18-19 ani, poartă mereu o s¸apcă, ascultă hip-hop, vorbes¸te tare s¸i îi<br />
place să îi <strong>in</strong>sulte pe cei d<strong>in</strong> jurul lui, cu scuza că glumes¸te. Poartă un tricou verde,<br />
cu diferite mesaje ce se referă la «iarbă» s¸i pantaloni foarte largi, de hip-hopper.<br />
347
Lizi<br />
Este colegă de clasă cu T<strong>in</strong>a, în jur de 16 ani. Este o elevă cum<strong>in</strong>te, nu are<br />
absent¸e, nu provoacă scandaluri, îi plac anumite m<strong>at</strong>erii la care înv<strong>at</strong>¸ă de plăcere<br />
s¸i, în general, îs¸i dă sil<strong>in</strong>t¸a să învet¸e b<strong>in</strong>e la to<strong>at</strong>e m<strong>at</strong>eriile. Poartă uniformă, îs¸i<br />
pr<strong>in</strong>de părul de obicei în coadă. Este o fire deschisă s¸i are destul de multe<br />
prietene în clasă. Nu îi place să i se vorbească urât s¸i nu este obis¸nuită ca c<strong>in</strong>eva<br />
să se ia de ea. Este s<strong>in</strong>gura f<strong>at</strong>ă d<strong>in</strong> clasă care are curaj să o înfrunte pe T<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Prietenii-anturajul<br />
Vârste între 17 s¸i 20 de ani. Mereu în fum; fie de tutun, fie de marijuana.<br />
Îmbrăc<strong>at</strong>¸i destul de diferit, majorit<strong>at</strong>ea însă arâtâdu-s¸i încl<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>¸iile către hip-hop.<br />
Cât¸iva d<strong>in</strong>tre ei au t<strong>at</strong>uaje făcute de Leo.<br />
SCENA I<br />
Dialogul conflictual d<strong>in</strong>tre mama s¸i t<strong>at</strong>a<br />
Act¸iunea se petrece în <strong>in</strong>teriorul uneii familii obis¸nuite, tipic românească,<br />
care locuies¸te undeva într-un cartier d<strong>in</strong> marea metropolă (Bucures¸ti).<br />
Decor<br />
În sp<strong>at</strong>e este o cort<strong>in</strong>ă, un dulăpior cu sertare s¸i o valiză.<br />
Stânga-sp<strong>at</strong>e: o us¸ă (pe care iese mama).<br />
Stânga-f<strong>at</strong>¸ă: este o canapea (pe care stă t<strong>at</strong>ăl).<br />
În dreapta, este o masă cu 3 locuri (scaune).<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral drepta: o a doua us¸ă semi-deschisă.<br />
Put¸<strong>in</strong> mai în f<strong>at</strong>¸a canapelei, există o măsut¸ă mică s¸i un televizor.<br />
Costum<strong>at</strong>¸ie<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: un tricou, pantaloni s¸i adidas¸i.<br />
Mama: blugi, o bluză decolt<strong>at</strong>ă, un lant¸ f<strong>in</strong> la gât, părul strâns în coc spaniol.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: tricou, blugi, tenes¸i, părul într-un coc răvăs¸it.<br />
Detalii scenice<br />
Întuneric în sală. Se aud pas¸i nervos¸i pe tocuri (tac, tac, tac). Lum<strong>in</strong>a se<br />
apr<strong>in</strong>de trept<strong>at</strong> s¸i dezvăluie întreg cadrul: este seara târziu (orele 10), t<strong>at</strong>ăl se află<br />
acasă, în liv<strong>in</strong>g, fumând o t¸igară – televizorul este apr<strong>in</strong>s s¸i el prives¸te la meci.<br />
Îs¸i fumează tacticos t¸igara. Mama aranjează câteva sticle în timpul acesta.<br />
Urmează replica mamei.<br />
348
Mama: Vrei să nu mai stai cu ochii în televizor s¸i să mă ajut¸i? [us¸or irit<strong>at</strong>ă s¸i<br />
put¸<strong>in</strong> ironică].<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl [<strong>in</strong>diferent]: Imedi<strong>at</strong>… Imedi<strong>at</strong>…<br />
Mama as¸teaptă câteva momente, dar sot¸ul nu apare. Femeia v<strong>in</strong>e s¸i îi pune sticlele<br />
pe masă, nervoasă.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: Ce faci, femeie?!<br />
Mama: Mis¸că-t¸i s¸i tu fundul s¸i fă ceva în casa asta!<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: Ît¸i alegi s¸i tu nis¸te momente…<br />
Mama: Aaaa!!! [sarcastic] Te deranjez… Daaa… E mai important ce vezi tu<br />
acolo. Ai putea să vezi meciul s¸i mâ<strong>in</strong>e în reluare.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl [ironic]: Vrei să fac ceva? Uite ce fac! Fac asta! [Se ridică, ia sticlele s¸i le<br />
sparge] Acum, dă-te!<br />
Mama: Nu es¸ti bun de nimic, m-am sătur<strong>at</strong> de t<strong>in</strong>e! Nu faci nimic niciod<strong>at</strong>ă.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: Da… Da… S¸i ce ai vrea să fac? Oricum nu ît¸i mai conv<strong>in</strong>e nimic.<br />
Mama: M-am sătur<strong>at</strong>. E destul <strong>in</strong>dolent¸a asta!<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: S¸tii ce?! Dacă nu ît¸i conv<strong>in</strong>e, pleacă!!!<br />
Mama s¸i face bagajul cu gesturi rapide s¸i violente, bombăn<strong>in</strong>d. T<strong>in</strong>a <strong>in</strong>tră în scenă<br />
de dupa us¸a semi-deschisă s¸i începe să se plimbe în sp<strong>at</strong>ele ei, fară ca mama să observe.<br />
Mama se îndreaptă spre ies¸ire (us¸a d<strong>in</strong> stânga scenei), unde îi închide us¸a în nas fetei.<br />
Lum<strong>in</strong>a se st<strong>in</strong>ge brusc. O altă lum<strong>in</strong>a rămâne pe T<strong>in</strong>a. F<strong>at</strong>a pare s¸oc<strong>at</strong>ă de ceea ce<br />
se întâmplă. Se aude meciul de la televizor s¸i t<strong>at</strong>ăl exclamând ceva.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: S¸i acum???<br />
Lum<strong>in</strong>a se st<strong>in</strong>ge us¸or, punând în evident¸ă doar chipul crisp<strong>at</strong> s¸i debusol<strong>at</strong> al fetei.<br />
Trept<strong>at</strong>, cres¸te <strong>in</strong>tensit<strong>at</strong>ea lum<strong>in</strong>ii. Apare doar povestitorul.<br />
Povestitorul: O familie fericită? Doi păr<strong>in</strong>t¸i iubitori? S¸i o fiică ascultătoare? Un<br />
copil ca tot¸i ceilalt¸i? Nimeni nu a s¸tiut s¸i nu va s¸ti vreod<strong>at</strong>ă ce se ascunde în<br />
sp<strong>at</strong>ele unui tablou familial, mult¸i v<strong>in</strong> cu prejudecăt¸i. Ar putea fi oric<strong>in</strong>e în<br />
această situ<strong>at</strong>¸ie. Aici însă este T<strong>in</strong>a. Nu este doar o poveste, ci po<strong>at</strong>e fi s¸i o<br />
realit<strong>at</strong>e. Uneori e nevoie doar de un pretext…<br />
Lum<strong>in</strong>a scade d<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong>tensit<strong>at</strong>e, iar povestitorul <strong>in</strong>tră în umbră. Init¸ial, scena po<strong>at</strong>e<br />
avea accente comice, când cele două personaje dialoghează. Spre f<strong>in</strong>al, când totul<br />
dev<strong>in</strong>e deja tensiune, o d<strong>at</strong>ă cu spargerea sticlelor, accentul este dram<strong>at</strong>ic.<br />
349
SCENA II<br />
Stră<strong>in</strong>i<br />
Act¸iunea se petrece în casa aceleias¸i familii, la câteva luni după plecarea mamei.<br />
Este o seară d<strong>in</strong>tr-o zi a săptămânii. F<strong>at</strong>a se află în liv<strong>in</strong>g-ul casei, strădu<strong>in</strong>du-se să<br />
îs¸i facă temele pentru s¸coală. Init¸ial, vorbes¸te la telefon cu o colegă.<br />
Decor<br />
Stânga-sp<strong>at</strong>e: o us¸ă.<br />
Stânga-f<strong>at</strong>¸ă: o canapea.<br />
În dreapta: o masă cu 2 scaune. Pe masă vor fi două pahare s¸i o sticlă de v<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Put¸<strong>in</strong> mai în f<strong>at</strong>¸a canapelei, există o măsut¸ă mică s¸i un televizor.<br />
Costum<strong>at</strong>¸ie<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: o cămas¸ă deschisa lejer la gât, pantaloni casual s¸i pantofi d<strong>in</strong> piele<br />
întoarsă <strong>in</strong>teresant¸i.<br />
Noua sot¸ie: o rochie largă de lungime midi, pantofi cu toc, ciorapi de m<strong>at</strong>ase.<br />
Are părul desfăcut.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: tricou, blugi, tenes¸i, părul într-un coc răvăs¸it.<br />
Culorile costum<strong>at</strong>¸iei celor două personaje, t<strong>at</strong>ăl s¸i noua sot¸ie, pot fi alese de<br />
către scenograf.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a se află în cameră, pe canapea. Vorbes¸te la telefon. Se aude televizorul încet.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Nu mă descurc… Nu s¸tiu dacă pot face f<strong>at</strong>¸ă… S¸i acum asta?! Aproape că<br />
nu îl văd deloc s¸i…<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl <strong>in</strong>tră pe o us¸ă (us¸a l<strong>at</strong>eral dreapta) cu 2 pahare s¸i o sticlă de v<strong>in</strong>.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Te sun imedi<strong>at</strong>! [închide telefonul] Bună, t<strong>at</strong>i! [T<strong>in</strong>a se îndreaptă spre el cu<br />
un caiet s¸i un pix. Dores¸te să îi ceară ajutorul la o m<strong>at</strong>erie. Atitud<strong>in</strong>ea lui este<br />
ezitantă s¸i distrasă]. T<strong>at</strong>i, v<strong>in</strong>o put¸<strong>in</strong>, te rog! Vreau să ît¸i cer părerea. Nu s¸tiu<br />
dacă e mai b<strong>in</strong>e să…<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: Stai put¸<strong>in</strong>!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Nu durează mult…<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl se plimbă pr<strong>in</strong> cameră, ea îl urmează, însă el se îndepărtează tot mai mult<br />
spre us¸a d<strong>in</strong> stânga scenei. Pe această us¸ă, îs¸i face aparit¸ia o femeie. Ea îi zâmbes¸te<br />
bărb<strong>at</strong>ului. El înt<strong>in</strong>de mâna s¸i o <strong>in</strong>vită să păs¸ească în cameră. Începe melodia<br />
350
Tango to Evora, Loreena McKennitt. Cei doi se îndreaptă, în pas¸i de dans (pas¸i de<br />
tango) spre masa d<strong>in</strong> liv<strong>in</strong>g. T<strong>in</strong>a le face loc s¸i cei doi se as¸ează la masă. T<strong>at</strong>ăl ei s¸i<br />
femeia râd zgomotos. Personajele se opresc. F<strong>at</strong>a prives¸te nedumerită la cele două<br />
locuri, cele două pahare. Melodia se aude difuz, încet.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: S¸i eu? Unde este paharul meu?<br />
Melodia reîncepe. Cei doi îs¸i reiau activit<strong>at</strong>ea, se uită la T<strong>in</strong>a s¸i îi zâmbesc. F<strong>at</strong>¸a<br />
fetei se schimbă, arătând o us¸oară teamă. T<strong>at</strong>ăl îi face cunos¸t<strong>in</strong>t¸ă cu noua sa sot¸ie.<br />
Melodia se aude difuz, foarte încet.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: Ea este Dana, o să vă înt¸eleget¸i grozav.<br />
Sonorul melodiei cres¸te iarăs¸i. F<strong>at</strong>¸a fetei este uimită s¸i aproape că plânge. Se po<strong>at</strong>e<br />
observa în expresia ei că trăies¸te totul ca pe un s¸oc. Pleacă tristă, se îndepărtează.<br />
Melodia cont<strong>in</strong>uă până la f<strong>in</strong>alul acestei scene. Lum<strong>in</strong>a pe scenă începe să scadă d<strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>tensit<strong>at</strong>e, deven<strong>in</strong>d d<strong>in</strong> ce în ce mai difuză. În acelas¸i timp, zona us¸or lum<strong>in</strong>oasă<br />
se fixează pe T<strong>in</strong>a, în timp ce ea se îndepărtează de cei doi s¸i se îndreaptă spre us¸a<br />
d<strong>in</strong> stânga. Când ajunge în dreptul us¸ii pentru a ies¸i, scena rămâne în întuneric.<br />
SCENA III<br />
Grupul<br />
Act¸iunea se petrece la subsolul unei case. Aici este un bar. Barul înglobează<br />
s¸i un loc unde se execută t<strong>at</strong>uaje. Este un local ascuns pr<strong>in</strong> centrul Bucures¸tiului,<br />
frecvent<strong>at</strong> doar de un anumit gen. Aici v<strong>in</strong>e întotdeauna o gas¸că de adolescent¸i,<br />
destul de dubioasă. Sunt copii de la T<strong>in</strong>a d<strong>in</strong> cartier. De curand, f<strong>at</strong>a a început<br />
să iasă cu ei mult mai des. Este seara târziu. T<strong>in</strong>erii s-au strâns ca de obicei s¸i au<br />
<strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>-o s¸i pe T<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Decor<br />
În sp<strong>at</strong>e este cort<strong>in</strong>a. Pe ea se succed mesaje vizuale (de la început până la<br />
f<strong>in</strong>ele acestei scene).<br />
În centru: O canapea s¸i un fotoliu. În jurul său sunt sticle goale s¸i t¸igări arse.<br />
În f<strong>at</strong>¸a canapelei, este o măsut¸ă pe care se află o scrumieră murdară s¸i ceva lichid<br />
vărs<strong>at</strong>.<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral dreapta: o masă s¸i un scaun.<br />
351
Costum<strong>at</strong>¸ie<br />
Băiet¸ii poartă pantaloni de tren<strong>in</strong>g largi, maieuri sau tricouri vechi. Fetele au<br />
blugi sau pantaloni foarte scurt¸i, tricouri largi s¸i tenes¸i. To<strong>at</strong>e folosesc<br />
derm<strong>at</strong>ograful negru. Tipul cu t<strong>at</strong>uaje are un maieu strâmt, negru s¸i nis¸te blugi<br />
3/4, tenes¸i în picioare.<br />
Indic<strong>at</strong>¸ii scenice<br />
Pe canapea, sunt p<strong>at</strong>ru prieteni (băiet¸i), în picioare, încă două (fete).<br />
Tipul care face t<strong>at</strong>uaje stă s<strong>in</strong>gur la masă s¸i, când T<strong>in</strong>a v<strong>in</strong>e la el, îs¸i mută<br />
scaunul pentru a fi mai aproape de ea. Trage adânc d<strong>in</strong> t¸igară s¸i sco<strong>at</strong>e fumul<br />
us¸or, uitându-se fix spre T<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Scena este <strong>in</strong>und<strong>at</strong>ă de lum<strong>in</strong>i difuze s¸i de culori diferite.<br />
D<strong>in</strong> partea stângă a scenei se reapr<strong>in</strong>de lum<strong>in</strong>a până la o <strong>in</strong>tensit<strong>at</strong>e difuză.<br />
Primul mesaj expus pe cort<strong>in</strong>ă: «You can never make the same mistake twice.<br />
Because the second time you make it it’s not a mistake, it’s a choice».<br />
Concomitent se aude muzica – P<strong>in</strong>k Raise your Glass.<br />
În această lum<strong>in</strong>ă, cu muzică pe fundal, se vede (deja pe scenă) grupul<br />
dubios. Ea merge pe langă grup, ca s¸i cum s-ar învârti într-o cameră căutând<br />
ceva. Intră în grup. Ei îi înt<strong>in</strong>d un jo<strong>in</strong>t apr<strong>in</strong>s, spunându-i.<br />
Un tip dubios: Welcome my baby!<br />
Grupul începe să danseze pe muzică. (moment artistic) F<strong>at</strong>a ia t¸igara s¸i trage d<strong>in</strong><br />
ea de câteva ori. Tus¸es¸te o d<strong>at</strong>ă, însă va cont<strong>in</strong>uă să tragă d<strong>in</strong> nou d<strong>in</strong> t¸igară.<br />
Zâmbes¸te s¸ters s¸i acru. Sub efectul marijuanei, începe s¸i ea să danseze. Părând<br />
drog<strong>at</strong>ă, se duce spre o masă. Aici se află un băi<strong>at</strong> care face t<strong>at</strong>uaje. Acesta o întreabă.<br />
Tipul: Ce ît¸i place în momentul ăsta?<br />
Ea îi ar<strong>at</strong>ă cuiul (jo<strong>in</strong>tu’) – aici melodia se schimbă: V.Spike – Drumurile. Pe<br />
fundal se aude doar refrenul: «suntem tot¸i gramadă/ s¸i suntem praf… dacă nu<br />
ajungem cum am plec<strong>at</strong>…». Băiet¸ii o iau pe rând la dans s¸i repetă acest referen.<br />
Muzica rămâne pe fundal, tot¸i ceilalt¸i dansează în jur.<br />
352<br />
Noi suntem pe drum, venim acum, as¸tept<strong>at</strong>¸i-ne<br />
Nu suntem departe, tre să vă spun<br />
Că suntem tot¸i grămadă s¸i suntem praf<br />
Ni se rupe dacă n-ajungem cum am plec<strong>at</strong>.
Noi suntem pe drum, venim acum, as¸tept<strong>at</strong>¸i-ne<br />
Nu suntem departe, tre să vă spun<br />
Că suntem tot¸i grămadă s¸i suntem praf<br />
Ni se rupe dacă n-ajungem cum am plec<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Muzica se opres¸te brusc, la fel ca s¸i restul personajelor. Melodia se schimbă cu o alta,<br />
Br<strong>in</strong>g Me to Life – Evanscence. Lum<strong>in</strong>a rămâne difuză. T<strong>in</strong>a se as¸ează pe un<br />
scaun, îs¸i înt<strong>in</strong>de gâtul spre el (spre tipul dubios care t<strong>at</strong>uează) s¸i se lasă t<strong>at</strong>u<strong>at</strong>ă (pe<br />
partea stângă a gâtului). Tipul râde languros s¸i sardonic. T<strong>at</strong>uajul pe care îl<br />
desenează este o frunză de marijuana. O altă lum<strong>in</strong>ă puternică se mută pe cei doi.<br />
SCENA IV<br />
Clasa s¸i ora de logică<br />
Act¸iunea se petrece la liceul la care înv<strong>at</strong>¸ă T<strong>in</strong>a. De ceva vreme, f<strong>at</strong>a începuse<br />
să lipsească foarte mult. Apropi<strong>in</strong>du-se vacant¸a, s-a hotărât totus¸i să meargă la<br />
s¸coală, des¸i nu cu foarte mare <strong>in</strong>teres.<br />
Decor<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral stânga: o măsut¸ă (c<strong>at</strong>edra) s¸i un scaun. Lângă el, o tablă (flipchart).<br />
Pe c<strong>at</strong>edră, este un marker.<br />
În sp<strong>at</strong>ele scenei, pe cort<strong>in</strong>ă, va fi proiect<strong>at</strong>ă o imag<strong>in</strong>e de ansamblu a unei<br />
clase cu elevi în uniformă.<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral dreapta: s¸apte scaune s¸i mici pupitre.<br />
Costum<strong>at</strong>¸ie<br />
Profesorul: costum (pantaloni, cămas¸ă, sacou s¸i pantofi).<br />
Elevii: cămas¸ă albă, pantaloni/ fuste, fetele sunt foarte discret machi<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: blugi, tricou, tenes¸i, creion puternic la ochi, cu telefonul la vedere, pe<br />
bancă.<br />
Indic<strong>at</strong>¸ii scenice<br />
Sunt s¸apte elevi, majorit<strong>at</strong>ea fete. Una d<strong>in</strong>tre eleve este colega Lizi. T<strong>in</strong>a va fi<br />
s<strong>in</strong>gură în bancă.<br />
Povestitorul re<strong>in</strong>tră în scenă. El este un elev (un tânăr), care iese d<strong>in</strong> bancă s¸i<br />
prez<strong>in</strong>tă povestea.<br />
353
Povestitorul: După o lungă perioadă în care nu a venit la s¸coală, când s-a<br />
prezent<strong>at</strong>, T<strong>in</strong>a a <strong>in</strong>tr<strong>at</strong> totus¸i la una d<strong>in</strong> orele d<strong>in</strong> programul acelei zile.<br />
Apoi povestitorul se retrage la locul său, moment în care va reîncepe act¸iunea. În<br />
timpul monologului său, grupul cu profesorul s¸i clasa de elevi este nemis¸c<strong>at</strong>,<br />
asemenea unei fotografii.<br />
Profesorul [<strong>in</strong>trând în clasă]: Bună ziua, bună ziua! Ce facet¸i astăzi? E o zi<br />
frumoasă. As¸tept<strong>at</strong>¸i ora de logică cu <strong>in</strong>teres, nu-i as¸a?<br />
Elev [în s¸oaptă, către un alt elev]: Ce faci?<br />
Profesorul [se înt<strong>in</strong>de put¸<strong>in</strong> spre elev]: Întreabă-mă s¸i pe m<strong>in</strong>e ce fac! [zâmbes¸te]<br />
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ce drăgut¸!<br />
Elev [încet]: Mă scuz<strong>at</strong>¸i…<br />
Profesorul [se plimbă pr<strong>in</strong> f<strong>at</strong>¸a clasei]: Azi trebuie să facem nis¸te exercit¸ii.<br />
Pentru că avem o lect¸ie nouă, avem exercit¸ii noi… [elevul cască, profesorul îl<br />
observă] Ce? Nu ît¸i plac exercit¸iile noi?<br />
Elev: Nu!<br />
Profesorul: De ce nu ît¸i plac? Te-ai plictisit, v<strong>in</strong>e vacant¸a? Lasă, mai îndur<strong>at</strong>¸i<br />
put¸<strong>in</strong>. Hai să vedem… C<strong>in</strong>e vrea să iasă la tablă? Să vedem după c<strong>at</strong>alog…<br />
C<strong>in</strong>e nu are notă?<br />
Elev: Eu! Vreau notă!<br />
Profesorul îl măsoară cu privirea zâmb<strong>in</strong>d pe elev. Apoi se îndreaptă spre c<strong>at</strong>edră.<br />
Se as¸ează pe scaun s¸i ia c<strong>at</strong>alogul.<br />
Profesorul [de la c<strong>at</strong>edră, răsfo<strong>in</strong>d c<strong>at</strong>alogul]: Cum să nu ai? Stai că mă uit<br />
acum… Ah, da! Ai lipsit, dar e c<strong>in</strong>eva care nu are nicio notă. [se întoarce spre<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a] Da… Domnis¸oara Crist<strong>in</strong>a Mihăilescu. Va trebui să îmi arăt<strong>at</strong>¸i<br />
abilităt¸ile dumneavoastră. [clasa e gălăgioasă, râde] Ionescu, dacă te plictises¸ti,<br />
d<strong>in</strong> partea mea pot¸i să o ajut¸i pe Crist<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: N-am nevoie! [ironic] Deci… Ce scriu?<br />
Profesorul: Următorul exercit¸iu [profesorul scrie ceva pe tablă]. Ok. Asta este.<br />
Haidet¸i să o sust¸<strong>in</strong>em pe colega voastră.<br />
Elevul 2 [ironic]: Uite, mă, că s¸tie asta!<br />
Elevul 1 [ironic]: Da…<br />
Elevul 2 [ironic, râde us¸or]: A venit asta la s¸coală…<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [se întoarce nervoasă]: Da’ c<strong>in</strong>e mă crezi? Ce? Eu’s tu? [se opres¸te d<strong>in</strong> scris].<br />
Profesorul: Vă rog, lăs<strong>at</strong>¸i-o să lucreze… Da, bravo! Tu nu t¸i-ai făcut tema?<br />
Elevul 1: Nu îs¸i face temele! S¸i lipses¸te de la s¸coală mereu!<br />
354
T<strong>in</strong>a: Hai mai taci!<br />
Profesorul: Dar tu de unde s¸tii?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [ironic]: Po<strong>at</strong>e pentru că lipses¸te cu m<strong>in</strong>e…<br />
Elev: Uit<strong>at</strong>¸i-o cum v<strong>in</strong>e îmbrăc<strong>at</strong>ă! Ce pantaloni are…<br />
Profesorul: În pauză putet¸i să îi admir<strong>at</strong>¸i pantalonii, cizmele, ce vret¸i. Acum<br />
l<strong>in</strong>is¸te! T<strong>in</strong>a, te-ai descurc<strong>at</strong> grozav. Ar trebui să mai vii pe la ora de logică.<br />
Ai multe absent¸e. De ce lipses¸ti <strong>at</strong>ât?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a prives¸te în altă parte. Se vede că o <strong>in</strong>comodează întrebarea.<br />
Elev: Aaa, păi ea umblă cu băiet¸i!<br />
Profesorul [către elev]: Lasă, că s¸i pe t<strong>in</strong>e te-am văzut pe la biliard. Ahaaa, ai grijă!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Mă pot duce în bancă?<br />
Profesorul: Da, da, du-te. T¸i-am zis. Es¸ti bună, ar trebui să mai vii pe la oră…<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Da, po<strong>at</strong>e… [se preface <strong>at</strong>entă la ce cites¸te d<strong>in</strong>tr-o foaie].<br />
Profesorul: OK, păi, cam <strong>at</strong>ât a fost. Vacant¸ă plăcută! Avet¸i grijă s¸i… ne vedem<br />
la anul! La revedere!<br />
Clasa: La revedereeee!<br />
Exprimarea dialogului d<strong>in</strong>tre profesori s¸i elevi în <strong>in</strong>terpretare are accente comice.<br />
Interact¸iunea d<strong>in</strong>tre elevi are umor, pr<strong>in</strong> accentele de ironie. To<strong>at</strong>ă scena în s<strong>in</strong>e este<br />
comică. Tonul profesorului, des¸i ment¸<strong>in</strong>e autorit<strong>at</strong>ea, ord<strong>in</strong>ea, este cald s¸i plăcut. Elevii<br />
se amuză pr<strong>in</strong> remarcile pe care le fac către T<strong>in</strong>a, având un aer us¸or distras s¸i amuzant.<br />
O colegă (Lizi) o prives¸te <strong>in</strong>sistent pe T<strong>in</strong>a. Aceasta se ridică s¸i merge enerv<strong>at</strong>ă spre ea.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Ce te uit¸i as¸a la m<strong>in</strong>e, ha?<br />
Colega Lizi [<strong>in</strong>diferentă]: Da’ ce? Nu am voie să mă uit? C<strong>in</strong>e te crezi?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Auzi, tu nu vorbes¸ti cu m<strong>in</strong>e as¸a. Hai, vezi-t¸i de treaba ta s¸i nu te mai holba!<br />
Lizi: C<strong>in</strong>e es¸ti tu să îmi spui mie ce să fac?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: C<strong>in</strong>e sunt eu? C<strong>in</strong>e sunt eu? [pune mâna pe colegă].<br />
Lizi: Ia mana de pe m<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Ia ai grijă! Că tu es¸ti un nimic!<br />
O împ<strong>in</strong>ge înapoi pe scaunul ei. Colega ripostează. Cele doua încep să se b<strong>at</strong>ă. După<br />
câteva secunde, ceilalt¸i <strong>in</strong>terv<strong>in</strong> pentru a le despărt¸i.<br />
Cele două se privesc foarte agresiv, în timp ce colegii abia le t¸<strong>in</strong> să nu se încaiere s¸i<br />
mai tare. Colega Lizi se trage d<strong>in</strong> mâ<strong>in</strong>ile fetelor care o t¸<strong>in</strong> s¸i fuge d<strong>in</strong> clasă. Apare<br />
ulterior, urm<strong>at</strong>ă de directoarea s¸colii. În timpul acesta, încă este rumoare în clasă,<br />
elevii vorbesc agit<strong>at</strong>.<br />
355
Directoarea: G<strong>at</strong>a! Nu vă mai cert<strong>at</strong>¸i! Ia: stânga [ar<strong>at</strong>ă spre elevi]… dreapta [spre<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a] Ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong> aici?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Nimic.<br />
Directoarea: Cum «nimic»? Ia v<strong>in</strong>o mai aproape de m<strong>in</strong>e! [spre T<strong>in</strong>a] Spunet¸imi<br />
ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Nu s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong> nimiiiiiic. Vedet¸i pe c<strong>in</strong>eva că are ceva?<br />
Directoarea [îndreptându-s¸i privirea către alt elev]: Domnis¸oară, ia lăs<strong>at</strong>¸i cartea<br />
aia… Aaaa… Filosofie!?! Hmm… [zumzet în sală] G<strong>at</strong>a! L<strong>in</strong>is¸te!<br />
Directoarea: Hai, Ionescu, spune-ne ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong> aici!<br />
Ionescu: Nu s¸tiu… Eu nu am văzut nimic…<br />
Directoarea: Cum? Am înt¸eles că se băteau, se trăgeau de păr! Unde suntem?<br />
În târg!?! Suntem într-o s¸coală civiliz<strong>at</strong>ă, vă rog frumos să păstr<strong>at</strong>¸i ord<strong>in</strong>ea s¸i<br />
discipl<strong>in</strong>a! Nu vă este rus¸<strong>in</strong>e? Am să vorbesc cu t<strong>at</strong>ăl tau [îi spune T<strong>in</strong>ei] s¸i cu<br />
mama ta [spre colegă].<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [spre colegă, ironica]: I-auzi, nu t¸i-e rus¸<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Lizi: Mie? T¸ie nu!?!<br />
Directoarea: L<strong>in</strong>is¸te, vă rog! Domnis¸oara Ionescu, lăs<strong>at</strong>¸i cartea!<br />
Lizi: Nu o să vă spună niciod<strong>at</strong>ă nimic! [spre T<strong>in</strong>a] Le e frică de EA!<br />
Directoarea: De ce?<br />
Lizi: O să îi b<strong>at</strong>ă după colt¸ul s¸colii!<br />
Directoarea: Ia spune-mi, domnis¸oară Mihăilescu, ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Haideeeet¸i, doamnă! Nicio ceartă, nimic! S¸titi cum suntem noi…<br />
Directoarea: Pentru to<strong>at</strong>ă lumea, sunt doamna director Mândrut¸escu, dacă<br />
cumva <strong>at</strong>¸i uit<strong>at</strong>, domnis¸oară! Mă cheamă «doamna Mândrut¸escu»! Nu sunt<br />
«doamnă» cu dumneavoastră!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [ironic]: Doamna Mândrut¸escu!<br />
Directoarea: Am să ment¸ionez păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ilor ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Mda, de parcă le-ar păsa…<br />
Directoarea: Cui nu îi pasă?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [se schimbă imedi<strong>at</strong> la f<strong>at</strong>¸ă s¸i pleacă]: Trebuie să plec!<br />
Directoarea: B<strong>in</strong>e… du-te![spre colegă] Tu, rămâi aici! Voi suna păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii!<br />
Lizi: Cum? E v<strong>in</strong>a mea? Ea e s<strong>in</strong>gura care…<br />
Directoarea: G<strong>at</strong>a! Am term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong> aici!<br />
F<strong>in</strong>alul scenei: elevii privesc în jos, nemis¸c<strong>at</strong>¸i, nepăsători.<br />
Tonul directoarei este puternic, în tot acest timp este autoritar s¸i revolt<strong>at</strong>. Vorbes¸te<br />
apăs<strong>at</strong> s¸i dur.<br />
356
SCENA V<br />
Consiliul s¸colar<br />
Act¸iunea se petrece în sala de consiliu a liceului. La apelul directoarei, s-au<br />
întâlnit profesorii pentru a discuta situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia T<strong>in</strong>ei. Directoarea dores¸te să se ia o<br />
decizie în priv<strong>in</strong>t¸a ei.<br />
Decor<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral dreapta: câteva scaune (5-6) în semicerc, unde vor fi sta profesorii.<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral stânga: un birou s¸i un scaun lângă.<br />
Sp<strong>at</strong>e stânga: o us¸ă.<br />
Costum<strong>at</strong>¸ie<br />
Directoare: costum roz-portocaliu, tocuri, cu multe bijuterii.<br />
Profesorii: profesorul de logică îs¸i păstrează costum<strong>at</strong>¸ia; restul sunt îmbrăc<strong>at</strong>¸i<br />
lejer (bărb<strong>at</strong>¸ii au o cămas¸ă s¸i nis¸te blugi, profesoarele au bluze s¸i pantaloni/fustă).<br />
Profesoara care întârzie: bluză s¸i fustă lungă, beler<strong>in</strong>i, totul în culori terne.<br />
Indic<strong>at</strong>¸ii scenice<br />
Directoarea va sta în picioare pe partea stângă a scenei. Pe parcursul<br />
discursului său, se plimbă în f<strong>at</strong>¸a profesorilor cu pas¸i apăs<strong>at</strong>¸i, nervos. Uneori se<br />
opres¸te când are obiect¸ii pe care le adresează acestora. Are mereu un pix în<br />
mână. Domnis¸oara profesoară care întarzie îs¸i face <strong>in</strong>trarea în scenă pe o us¸ă d<strong>in</strong><br />
partea stângă a scenei s¸i se va as¸eza pe un scaun liber. Pe dur<strong>at</strong>a întregii scene,<br />
lum<strong>in</strong>a este neclară, precum s¸i situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia. Se creează o <strong>at</strong>mosferă tension<strong>at</strong>ă.<br />
Directoarea stă put¸<strong>in</strong> în întuneric, pentru a mări suspansul s¸i pentru a da<br />
publicului <strong>in</strong>diciul despre ceea ce urmează să se decidă.<br />
Re<strong>in</strong>tră povestitorul pe scenă. În cadrul scenei se află întreaga sală de consiliu, unde<br />
directoarea, împreună cu cât¸iva profesori, decide situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia T<strong>in</strong>ei. Îna<strong>in</strong>te de dialogul<br />
acestora, povestitorul prez<strong>in</strong>tă situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia. În timpul consiliului, lum<strong>in</strong>a este mai<br />
slabă… o <strong>at</strong>mosferă întunec<strong>at</strong>ă. Când T<strong>in</strong>a va <strong>in</strong>tra în scenă, la f<strong>in</strong>al, în timpul<br />
monologului ei, întrega sala de consiliu <strong>in</strong>tră în întuneric, lum<strong>in</strong>a cade doar pe ea.<br />
Povestitorul: T<strong>in</strong>a, put¸<strong>in</strong> agit<strong>at</strong>ă s¸i tristă, as¸tepta în f<strong>at</strong>¸a us¸ii decizia. Dar care<br />
va fi decizia? Ce se va întâmpla cu T<strong>in</strong>a? S¸i, mai ales, care va fi soarta ei?<br />
Începe dialogul efectiv între directoare s¸i profesori. Aceasta este foarte învers¸un<strong>at</strong>ă s¸i<br />
vorbes¸te pe un ton puternic, autoritar. Profesorii privesc s¸i, d<strong>in</strong> când în când, se<br />
fâstâcesc. Femeia pare că det¸<strong>in</strong>e controlul absolut.<br />
357
Directoarea: Bună ziua, domnilor profesori!<br />
Profesorii [de 3 ori, de la profesori diferit¸i]: Bună ziua!<br />
Directoarea: Vreau să vă ment¸ionez această întâmplare de care, s<strong>in</strong>cer, îmi este<br />
foarte rus¸<strong>in</strong>e. [ton irit<strong>at</strong>] S¸i pe care vreau să o rezolv cu ajutorul dumneavoastră.<br />
Astăzi la ora 16.00 am surpr<strong>in</strong>s o bătaie ca în codru [accent pe ultimul cuvânt].<br />
Nu am văzut as¸a ceva în vi<strong>at</strong>¸a mea!!! M-am speri<strong>at</strong>. Eu sunt un om de familie.<br />
Într-o s¸coală as¸a de civiliz<strong>at</strong>ă, o bătaie ca în codru nu po<strong>at</strong>e avea loc! Suntet¸i<br />
de acord? [profesorii vorbesc între ei, privesc la directoare] Da!?! As¸a… Deci…<br />
Vă rog frumoooos! Haidet¸i pr<strong>in</strong> vot, acum, să vedem cum reus¸im să o evaluăm<br />
pe această domnis¸oară s¸i să solut¸ionăm problema. [face pauză. Reîncepe,<br />
subl<strong>in</strong>i<strong>in</strong>d fiecare cuvânt în parte] Bătaie… absent¸e… neglijent¸ă… Vă rog<br />
frumos! [ar<strong>at</strong>ă spre profesorul de logică]: Spunet¸i, domn’ profesor!<br />
Profesorul de logică: Eleva, s¸tit¸i… Totus¸i ieri, la ora mea…<br />
Directoarea [îl întrerupe]: Nu cred că aceasta este o <strong>at</strong>itud<strong>in</strong>e civiliz<strong>at</strong>ă pentru s¸coală!<br />
Iar acest act vulgarrrr s¸i violenttt… nu po<strong>at</strong>e avea loc aici! În această s¸coală!<br />
Profesorul de logică: Doamnă, înt¸eleg. Însă îi dăm un preaviz… Scădem puncte<br />
la purtare…<br />
Directoarea [îl întrerupe d<strong>in</strong> nou]: B<strong>in</strong>e. Să înt¸eleg că dumnevoastră suntet¸i<br />
bivalent. Ca s¸i în vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă… [privire furioasă] Buun! [mutându-s¸i privirea în sală<br />
spre o profesoară] Spunet¸i, vă rog!<br />
Profesoara [bâlbâ<strong>in</strong>du-se]: Eu… eu… mă abt¸<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Directoarea: Da! Mai b<strong>in</strong>e vă abt¸<strong>in</strong>et¸i în loc să lu<strong>at</strong>¸i decizii proaste.<br />
O profesoară: Cred totus¸i că ar fi b<strong>in</strong>e să vorbim s¸i cu păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii… Să evaluăm<br />
absent¸ele… Cu scăderea punctelor la purtare… [directoarea o întrerupe]<br />
Directoarea: Pr<strong>in</strong> vot! Cred că to<strong>at</strong>ă lumea este de acord, da?<br />
O altă profesoară: Daaa… Eu o propun pentru exm<strong>at</strong>riculare.<br />
Directoarea: Except¸ional. Vă propun pentru o mărire de salariu.<br />
Profesorii în sală vorbesc în acelas¸i timp în s¸oaptă între ei.<br />
Directoarea: Comportamente de acest gen… [ca o rugam<strong>in</strong>te] Domnilor<br />
profesori… B<strong>in</strong>e! B<strong>in</strong>e! Am să t¸<strong>in</strong> cont de… [se întrerupe brusc].<br />
În acest timp, <strong>in</strong>tră în sală o profesoară care a întârzi<strong>at</strong>. Directoarea o vede s¸i spune<br />
apăs<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Directoarea: Oooo!!! Domnis¸oara Subt¸irelu… Ce b<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
Domnis¸oara profesoară: Scuz<strong>at</strong>¸i-mă, am întârzi<strong>at</strong>. Despre ce este vorba?<br />
Directoarea: Un consiliu, domnis¸oară profesor… Decidem o situ<strong>at</strong>¸ie. A elevei<br />
Mihăilescu.<br />
358
Domnis¸oara profesoară: Aaaa… O s¸tiu, Mihăilescu… 10 D.<br />
Directoarea: Despre ea este vorba. Trebuie să o exm<strong>at</strong>riculăm. Situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia? Am<br />
fost sesiz<strong>at</strong>ă de o bătaie ca în codru… Domnis¸oara a sărit ca un tigru să<br />
omoare o altă domnis¸oară, colegă. Cum putem permite as¸a ceva? Într-o<br />
s¸coală civiliz<strong>at</strong>ă? Vă rog frumos!<br />
Domnis¸oara profesoară: Doamna directoare, as¸ avea nevoie de mai multe<br />
detalii.<br />
Directoarea: A plesnit-o, i-a smuls părul d<strong>in</strong> cap… E relevant?<br />
Domnis¸oara profesoară: Atunci să luăm măsuri pentru amândouă dacă nu<br />
vrem să fie violent¸ă în s¸coală.<br />
Directoarea: Aaaa… Cealaltă domnis¸oară pur s¸i simplu a fost surpr<strong>in</strong>să de acest<br />
act de violent¸ă. [înfuri<strong>at</strong>ă către ceilalt¸i profesori] Suntem de acord, da!?!<br />
Domnis¸oara profesoară: Nu putem să o exm<strong>at</strong>riculăm fără să avem o discut¸ie<br />
cu păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii ei. Trebuie să cântărim mai b<strong>in</strong>e situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia.<br />
Directoarea: Doamnaaaaa… profesoarăăă… vă cunosc de <strong>at</strong>âta timp s¸i aveam<br />
încredere că o să mă sust¸<strong>in</strong>et¸i în acest caz.<br />
Domnis¸oara profesoară: Nu pot să îmi exprim nici o părere în priv<strong>in</strong>t¸a T<strong>in</strong>ei,<br />
până nu cunosc situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia ei. La s¸coală s¸i acasă.<br />
Directoarea [înfuri<strong>at</strong>ă]: La revedere! G<strong>at</strong>a! Închei acest caz. Doamna<br />
profesoară, avet¸i o carieră frumoasă pe care, cred eu, ar trebui să o respect<strong>at</strong>¸i.<br />
Crist<strong>in</strong>a Mihailescu, TREBUIE EXMATRICULATĂ. NU AVEM<br />
NEVOIE DE VIOLENT¸Ă ÎN S¸COALA NOASTRĂ!<br />
Domnis¸oara profesoară: Presupun că domnis¸oara nu s-a bătut s<strong>in</strong>gură…<br />
Directoarea: Păi, pr<strong>in</strong> vot, cred că to<strong>at</strong>ă lumea este de acod. Except¸ional!<br />
Profesorul de logică [obiectează]: Doamna directoare, as¸ avea ceva de spus! F<strong>at</strong>a<br />
are anumite capacităt¸i… Am văzut-o la ora mea. Nu este un copil <strong>at</strong>ât de<br />
răuvoitor.<br />
Directoarea: Ce vret¸i să spunet¸i… Că??? Înv<strong>at</strong>¸ă sau ce?<br />
Profesorul de logică: Mai b<strong>in</strong>e o pedepsim scăzându-i puncte la purtare. Să îi<br />
mai dăm o s¸ansă. As¸a o corectăm. Să analizăm problema mai îndeaproape!<br />
Profesorii în sală (unii d<strong>in</strong>tre cei prezent¸i) vorbesc între ei în comun acord cu<br />
obiect¸ia profesorului de logică. Directoarea se adresează unui alt grup de profesori<br />
în acelas¸i timp, cu obiect¸ii. Profesorul pare că vorbes¸te de unul s<strong>in</strong>gur, în acelas¸i<br />
timp cu tonul vehement al directoarei.<br />
Directoarea [se întoarce spre profesorul de logică]: B<strong>in</strong>e, stim<strong>at</strong>e domn, o să<br />
analizez s¸i situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia dumneavostră. To<strong>at</strong>ă lumea îs¸i dores¸te să fie exm<strong>at</strong>ricul<strong>at</strong>ă.<br />
Dumne<strong>at</strong>a… Eu nu înt¸eleg această situ<strong>at</strong>¸ie.<br />
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Domnis¸oara profesoară: Haidet¸i să vorbim cu păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii…<br />
Directoarea [pune mâna la cap]: Mă doare foarte rău capul… îmi pâlpâie capul…<br />
Eu am probleme cu <strong>in</strong>ima, domnis¸oară.<br />
În acest timp, profesorii vorbesc, amestec<strong>at</strong>, unii cu ceilalt¸i, despre op<strong>in</strong>iile lor.<br />
Directoarea [spre sală]: Să înt¸eleg că suntem de acord. Da!?! [întrerupe profesorii]<br />
Am pus punct situ<strong>at</strong>¸iei. Am term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong> această discut¸ie. La revedere! Această<br />
elevă ne strică reput<strong>at</strong>¸ia liceului. O exm<strong>at</strong>riculez chiar acum!!! [urlă] Să v<strong>in</strong>ă<br />
Mihăilescu!<br />
Iese d<strong>in</strong> sala de consiliu. Profesorii rămân în sală, mut¸i, st<strong>at</strong>ici.<br />
Directoarea: Domnis¸oarăăă! În urma unui consiliu drept, corect [subl<strong>in</strong>iază cele<br />
două cuv<strong>in</strong>te]… În urma unor decizii unanime… [tus¸es¸te, se întrerupe] Pr<strong>in</strong><br />
vot, nu a fost deciza mea…<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [întrerupe, cu un ton neutru]: Sunt sigură!<br />
Directoarea: Vă rog frumos, nu fit¸i obraznică! Suntet¸i exm<strong>at</strong>ricul<strong>at</strong>ă. La<br />
revedere!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Ok.<br />
Lum<strong>in</strong>a se st<strong>in</strong>ge trept<strong>at</strong>. Scena are accente comice pr<strong>in</strong> comic de situ<strong>at</strong>¸ie.<br />
SCENA VI<br />
Monologul<br />
Act¸iunea se petrece la s¸coală. T<strong>in</strong>a este s<strong>in</strong>gură în clasă. Prives¸te în gol.<br />
Decor<br />
O masă s¸i câteva scaune risipite.<br />
Costum<strong>at</strong>¸ie<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: blugi, tricou, tenes¸i, părul într-un coc răvăs¸it.<br />
Este semi-întuneric pe scenă. În timpul acesta se aude o melodie pe fundal: «De<br />
ce» – Vama Veche (aceasta rulează până la sfârs¸itul piesei)]. O altă lum<strong>in</strong>ă este pe<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a. În f<strong>in</strong>al, doar ea rămâne în lum<strong>in</strong>ă; restul sălii este în întuneric. Se plimbă<br />
pe scenă cu pas¸i mici, t¸<strong>in</strong>ând telefonul în mână la sp<strong>at</strong>e. Se uită la el, apoi îl lasă<br />
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d<strong>in</strong> nou la sp<strong>at</strong>e. Îs¸i freacă nervos mâ<strong>in</strong>ile. Se opres¸te brusc. Telefonul cade. Stă<br />
dreaptă, iar pozit¸ia sa ar<strong>at</strong>ă dezarmare. Mâ<strong>in</strong>ile sunt libere pe lângă corp. Trage<br />
aer în piept s¸i începe să silabisească us¸or (în momentul în care melodia se aude mai<br />
încet). De aici începe monologul său.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Mmm… M-au exm<strong>at</strong>ricul<strong>at</strong>… Nu mă întreb<strong>at</strong>¸i dacă e corect sau nu e<br />
corect, dacă meritam sau nu să fiu exm<strong>at</strong>ricul<strong>at</strong>ă… Nu mai contează c<strong>in</strong>e are<br />
drept<strong>at</strong>e… Tot ce contează este s¸ansa pe care eu am r<strong>at</strong><strong>at</strong>-o s¸i pe care nu s¸tiu<br />
când s¸i dacă o voi regăsi… În momentul ăsta, însă, am pierdut tot: familie,<br />
prieteni, pe m<strong>in</strong>e… Am crezut că, dacă mă voi revolta, ceilalt¸i mă vor auzi…<br />
Îmi vor vedea disperarea, vor lua în seamă strigătul meu de a primi o nouă<br />
s¸ansă… De a porni în vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă cu dreptul. [Lum<strong>in</strong>a se st<strong>in</strong>ge trept<strong>at</strong>]. I-am<br />
condamn<strong>at</strong> pe tot¸i ceilalt¸i pentru că nu m-au ajut<strong>at</strong>… Dar nici măcar eu nu<br />
am făcut asta… M-am condamn<strong>at</strong> pe m<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
La încheierea monogului său, T<strong>in</strong>a rămâne în întuneric. Melodia cont<strong>in</strong>uă până la<br />
f<strong>in</strong>al.<br />
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Schit¸a în grafitti<br />
COORDONATORI<br />
prof. Cor<strong>in</strong>a Popescu, prof. Garofit¸a Iancu,<br />
Colegiul N<strong>at</strong>¸ional «Octav Onicescu», Bucures¸ti<br />
COAUTORI<br />
elevi d<strong>in</strong> clasa a IX-a E,<br />
Colegiul N<strong>at</strong>¸ional «Octav Onicescu», Bucures¸ti<br />
Piesă într-un act<br />
Personajele<br />
Gelu Goldis¸, elev în clasa a X-a al unui colegiu bucures¸tean<br />
Bunica lui Gelu, T<strong>at</strong>ăl, Dirig<strong>in</strong>ta, ca s¸i cum ar fi pe scenă<br />
SCENA I<br />
Gelu s¸i bunica<br />
Locu<strong>in</strong>t¸a bunicii, modestă, o masă simplă de bucătărie, câteva scaune, o plantă<br />
verde într-un ghiveci, un cadru de fereastră în fundal. Gelu este îmbrăc<strong>at</strong> cu<br />
pantaloni largi, tricou s¸leampăt, brăt¸ară cu t¸<strong>in</strong>te s¸i părul căzut pe frunte, to<strong>at</strong>e<br />
negre, mai put¸<strong>in</strong> tricoul, care are desene violente pe piept, cu capete de mort. Intră<br />
cu un aer plictisit, mâ<strong>in</strong>ile în buzunare, mestecând gumă, apoi se trântes¸te pe un<br />
scaun, înt<strong>in</strong>zându-s¸i ostent<strong>at</strong>iv picioarele<br />
Gelu: ’Ne<strong>at</strong>¸a! E g<strong>at</strong>a cafeaua? Că am întâlnire cu băiet¸ii azi la 11… [pauză, se<br />
înt<strong>in</strong>de, cască zgomotos]. Am cam întârzi<strong>at</strong> aseară cu băiet¸ii, sper că nu t¸i-ai<br />
făcut griji, cum ai obiceiul, de la o vreme, să mă spionezi… Ce mai e nou, teau<br />
mai sun<strong>at</strong> bătrânii d<strong>in</strong> Spania? Mai trăiesc? Mie ce-mi mai trimit? Că am<br />
rămas deja fără f<strong>in</strong>ant¸are… Îmi trebuie pentru «sendvis¸ul» de la pauza mare<br />
[râde fort¸<strong>at</strong>, sarcastic]. Ai fi în stare să-mi dai, ca lui taică-meu, acum o sută de<br />
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ani, o felie de salam între pâ<strong>in</strong>e… S-au schimb<strong>at</strong> vremurile, înt¸elegi? Mai<br />
avem s¸i alte nevoi! Artistice! Dar, oricum, n-ai cum să pricepi! [b<strong>at</strong>jocoritor s¸i<br />
superior distant] Gener<strong>at</strong>¸ie de înapoi<strong>at</strong>¸i! Am nevoie de tuburi, de sprayuri cu<br />
vopsea, de câte ori să-t¸i spun! [perplex] Cum la ce-mi folosesc? Grafitti e o<br />
formă de artă! [strigă răutăcios] ARTĂ, da! S¸i nu porcăriile pe care le facem la<br />
s¸coală! Zici că sunt scumpe? [exasper<strong>at</strong>] Păi voi ce păzit¸i? Să-mi facet¸i rost de<br />
bani, că am ochit deja un vagon de metrou pe care să-l decorez – supraf<strong>at</strong>¸ă<br />
mare, posibilităt¸i de f<strong>in</strong>isare, contururi desen… [parcă visează, desenând în aer,<br />
cu mis¸cări largi] As¸a că facet¸i chetă! În seara asta l-am «rezolv<strong>at</strong>»! [cască ochii,<br />
mimând surpr<strong>in</strong>derea] S¸coală? Ce e aia? Am deja s¸coala viet¸ii, ailaltă mă<br />
plictises¸te cumplit: program fix, personal sărit de pe fix, plozi înapoi<strong>at</strong>¸i…<br />
[râde prostes¸te de jocul de cuv<strong>in</strong>te] Nu mă pisa! Mai dau d<strong>in</strong> când în când s¸i pe<br />
acolo, să nu mă dea ăia dispărut. Mă primesc ei înapoi oricum, că cică zece<br />
clase sunt oblig<strong>at</strong>orii. [soarbe zgomotos d<strong>in</strong> ceas¸că]. De la anul ce o să fac? Oi<br />
vedea <strong>at</strong>unci, ce, sunt mama Omida? Să mai trecem s¸i de apocalipsa asta s¸i mai<br />
vorbim apoi. [Sună telefonul, scurtă pauză, ascultă convorbirea, face semne, la un<br />
moment d<strong>at</strong> – nu, nu! apoi, în s¸oaptă] Sunt bătrânii? Spune-le că sunt la s¸coală!<br />
La s¸coala, n-auzi? Nu-mi face asta, te rog, rămân fără fonduri. O să fiu<br />
cum<strong>in</strong>te, promit, merg s¸i la s¸coală. Nu închide, te implor! [cade hohot<strong>in</strong>d pe<br />
scaun apoi, brusc, merge spre fereastră, pune un taburet s¸i se c<strong>at</strong>¸ără pe pervaz]<br />
Dacă nu-i suni înapoi să le spui că totul e în regulă, mă duc eu până în<br />
Spania… în zbor! [pune un picior în afara ferestrei].<br />
SCENA II<br />
Gelu s¸i t<strong>at</strong>ăl lui<br />
Acelas¸i decor. Se aude soneria. Gelu merge s¸i deschide us¸a, fără să privească pr<strong>in</strong><br />
vizor. Surpr<strong>in</strong>dere totală, încurcătură, m<strong>in</strong>ciuni s¸i disculpări. Gelu trece de la tonul<br />
amen<strong>in</strong>t¸ător de ad<strong>in</strong>eauri la unul mieros, <strong>def</strong>ensiv.<br />
Gelu [cu exces de gesturi, de o politet¸e nervoasă]: T<strong>at</strong>ă, ce surpriză! Îmi pare <strong>at</strong>ât<br />
de b<strong>in</strong>e c-ai venit! Mama a rămas acolo? Tu când de întorci? Despre m<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Numai de b<strong>in</strong>e! He, he! Întreabă s¸i pe mamaia… [se fâstâces¸te d<strong>in</strong> cauza<br />
ha<strong>in</strong>elor s¸leampete] A, nu, nici vorbă! Asta e t¸<strong>in</strong>uta mea de pe acasă… mai<br />
lejeră… Sigur, când mă duc la s¸coală e altceva. [îs¸i sco<strong>at</strong>e repede cercelul d<strong>in</strong><br />
ureche, apoi brăt¸ările cu t¸<strong>in</strong>te s¸i le pune în buzunarele largi ale pantalonilor]<br />
Dacă n-am întârzi<strong>at</strong>? Nu-t¸i face griji, azi nu facem primele două ore – e<br />
profesoara bolnavă de vreo săptămână, săraca! B<strong>in</strong>eînt¸eles că celelalte ore le<br />
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facem. Dar e devreme, după ceasul meu. [prives¸te ceasul, scutură mâna, îl duce<br />
la ureche, b<strong>at</strong>e cu degetul în geamul lui] E set<strong>at</strong> după ora d<strong>in</strong> Barcelona. L-am<br />
pus as¸a, gând<strong>in</strong>du-mă la voi! [zâmbes¸te fort¸<strong>at</strong>, cu ochii spre bunica] Să mă<br />
îmbrac ca să mă duci tu cu mas¸<strong>in</strong>a la s¸coală? Nu es¸ti obosit, după <strong>at</strong>âtea ore<br />
de mers? Lasă, t<strong>at</strong>ă, mâ<strong>in</strong>e! Azi fac o mare except¸ie de la frecvent¸ă ca să-mi<br />
pot¸i povesti de pe-acolo, sa mai stau s¸i eu cu t<strong>in</strong>e… Nu? [încurc<strong>at</strong>, în luptă<br />
cu s<strong>in</strong>e] De fapt, ai drept<strong>at</strong>e! S¸i mâ<strong>in</strong>e e o zi! Hai că-mi iau rucsacul acum.<br />
Mamaie, unde să-mi fi pus eu rucsacul? [face semne disper<strong>at</strong>e s¸i complice, în<br />
sensul – nu am as¸a ceva, acoperă-mă!] Trebuie să fie pe-aici! [găses¸te un rucsac<br />
mai vechi, aruncă la întâmplare ce găses¸te pe dulap în el] S¸i ha<strong>in</strong>ele de s¸coală?<br />
[îmbracă repede un tricou alb, pe cel negru, cu cranii, îl mototoles¸te s¸i îl aruncă<br />
în rucsac, peste celelalte] Numai bun de s¸coală! [merge după t<strong>at</strong>ăl lui, în stânga,<br />
spre us¸ă, se întoarce s¸i îns¸facă de pe masă un rest de sendvis¸, apoi aparte] Treacă,<br />
azi mă sacrific! [bunicii] G<strong>at</strong>a, n-ai de ce să-t¸i faci griji, am totul sub control,<br />
ca de obicei, să s¸tii!<br />
Iese d<strong>in</strong> scenă.<br />
SCENA III<br />
Gelu s¸i dirig<strong>in</strong>ta<br />
Schimbare de decor. La s¸coală. Se aude soneria de <strong>in</strong>trare. Rumoare. Colegii lui<br />
Gelu, care se întorc d<strong>in</strong> pauză, <strong>in</strong>tră în clasă, unul mus¸când d<strong>in</strong>tr-un corn, altul<br />
bând d<strong>in</strong>tr-o sticlă de apă m<strong>in</strong>erală, în neorânduială.<br />
Gelu [către unii d<strong>in</strong>tre colegi, recunoscându-i]: Salut, bătrâne! Ce mai faci, fr<strong>at</strong>e?<br />
Es¸ti b<strong>in</strong>e, vere? Ce e nou pe frontul de vest? A mai întreb<strong>at</strong> diriga de m<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
M-a d<strong>at</strong> dispărut, as¸a-i? [zăres¸te pe dirig<strong>in</strong>tă, în capătul holului] Hait, uite că<br />
v<strong>in</strong>e! [falsă amabilit<strong>at</strong>e] Bună ziua, doamna dirig<strong>in</strong>tă! Da, îmi pare rău, n-am<br />
mai ajuns pe la s¸coală… S¸tit¸i, am avut probleme familiale, a murit bunica s¸i,<br />
cum ai mei erau plec<strong>at</strong>¸i în Spania, a trebuit să am eu grijă de sora mea mai<br />
mică… Sigur că am o soră… ăăăă, am chiar două. [t¸<strong>in</strong>e degetele încrucis¸<strong>at</strong>e la<br />
sp<strong>at</strong>e, vizibil, spre public] V-a spus t<strong>at</strong>a la prima s¸ed<strong>in</strong>t¸ă cu păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii, dar po<strong>at</strong>e<br />
că <strong>at</strong>¸i uit<strong>at</strong>… [surpr<strong>in</strong>s, văzându-s¸i t<strong>at</strong>ăl urcând scările] T<strong>at</strong>ă, mă descurc, nu<br />
e nevoie să vii cu m<strong>in</strong>e, totul e ok. [După o pauză, răstimp în care dirig<strong>in</strong>ta a<br />
vorbit cu păr<strong>in</strong>tele, iar Gelu a t¸<strong>in</strong>ut privirea în jos, s-a juc<strong>at</strong> cu un pix, apăsând<br />
capătul, enervant s¸i obsesiv, a învârtit în mână o s¸apcă, nervos] T<strong>at</strong>ă, iartă-mă,<br />
am spus asta despre bunica pentru că am avut probleme de sănăt<strong>at</strong>e s¸i n-am<br />
putut veni o vreme la s¸coală. Nu t¸i-am spus ca să nu-t¸i faci griji, acolo<br />
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departe, unde er<strong>at</strong>¸i. De-acum încolo am să v<strong>in</strong> în fiecare zi. Promit! De fapt,<br />
de câte ori am venit, am obt¸<strong>in</strong>ut câte o notă bună pe răspunsurile d<strong>in</strong> clasa,<br />
dar la teme… Mă pricep mai b<strong>in</strong>e să desenez. S¸tiu că e păc<strong>at</strong>, ai drept<strong>at</strong>e, voi<br />
vă străduit¸i pentru m<strong>in</strong>e în stră<strong>in</strong>i, iar eu… Am o m<strong>in</strong>te bună s¸i mi-o<br />
irosesc… Dar de acum am să-t¸i confirm as¸teptările! Ai să vezi! Chiar de<br />
mâ<strong>in</strong>e! Pentru că merit¸i, pentru că merit s¸i eu.<br />
SCENA IV<br />
Gelu s¸i un amic<br />
Gelu vorbes¸te la telefonul mobil cu un amic, pe tot parcursul derulării scenei, care<br />
are loc tot în acelas¸i decor, al clasei.<br />
Gelu [în telefon]: G<strong>at</strong>a, Castore! Am ies¸it d<strong>in</strong> «club», pentru că a venit t<strong>at</strong>a s¸i a<br />
descoperit to<strong>at</strong>ă treaba… [pauză] Mda, asta e! De azi es¸ti s<strong>in</strong>gur cu băiet¸ii! No<br />
să ne mai putem vedea decât la sfârs¸it de săptămână. S¸i, o să te distrezi, dar<br />
m-am remarc<strong>at</strong> d<strong>in</strong> prima zi după marea revenire: am lu<strong>at</strong> o notă mare la<br />
română pe un desen! [pauză] Stai, bă, nu râde! Era o posibilă ilustr<strong>at</strong>¸ie la un<br />
roman românesc! G<strong>at</strong>a, mi-am găsit chemarea – mă fac ilustr<strong>at</strong>or de cărt¸i!<br />
Halal de m<strong>in</strong>e, zici? Păi pentru asta trebuie să cites¸ti cartea, bătrâne, deci o să<br />
mă documentez mai întâi. Împus¸c doi iepuri d<strong>in</strong>tr-un foc, este? Mă relaxez, fac<br />
ce-mi place s¸i trag s¸i foloase… s¸colăres¸ti. Ei, ce zici, merită? Chiar începe să-mi<br />
placă. S¸i, ca să te miri până la capăt, am primit o primă comandă pentru<br />
decorurile unei piese de te<strong>at</strong>ru pentru serbarea de Crăciun! Ce zici? [probabil<br />
se aud proteste la telefon] Dacă ne vedem mâ<strong>in</strong>e? Nu, nu pot, omule, am astea<br />
de făcut. Nici joi, că ajungem la alt subiect s¸i sunt ilustr<strong>at</strong>orul clasei, ai uit<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Nu s¸tiu… Po<strong>at</strong>e sâmbătă… Nu, bă, n-am păt¸it nimic, n-am înnebunit, pur s¸i<br />
simplu am treabă. Iar săptămâna viitoare… [îs¸i consultă noul caiet de notit¸e]<br />
nici <strong>at</strong>ât! Încep tezele! În vacant¸ă, po<strong>at</strong>e… [cu îngrijorare] Castore, alo, mai es¸ti<br />
pe fir? Alo? Alo! [aruncă telefonul cât colo] Atâta pagubă! N-ai cum să înt¸elegi,<br />
«es¸ti prost», cum zicea un personaj… al cui? Parcă s¸tiam asta od<strong>at</strong>ă… [începe<br />
să caute pr<strong>in</strong> manual, cu înfrigurare]. Am un lapsus! Dar îl rezolv eu. Po<strong>at</strong>e daco<br />
mai fi c<strong>in</strong>eva la biblioteca s¸colii… Sau să caut pe <strong>in</strong>ternet… În f<strong>in</strong>e, trebuie<br />
să mă pun la punct cu m<strong>at</strong>eria! [îs¸i caută în rucsac] S¸i aici nu găsesc nimic…<br />
Hai, că de mâ<strong>in</strong>e mă-ntorc pr<strong>in</strong>tre cei vii! [către ceilalt¸i colegi s¸i parcă înspre<br />
lumea întreagă] Oameni buni, păzea că v<strong>in</strong>! [dă în rucsac peste tricoul negru cu<br />
cranii, apoi către un coleg de clasă, care stă în banca d<strong>in</strong> sp<strong>at</strong>ele lui] Vlade, nu vrei<br />
un tricou, să-t¸i completezi colect¸ia de ciudăt¸enii? [râde amar] Nu, mie nu-mi<br />
mai trebuie. Ia-l s¸i-apoi zi-mi s¸i mie ce temă ne-a d<strong>at</strong> la română pentru mâ<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
365
Abandonul s¸colar al unei fete de 12 ani<br />
s¸i povestea familiei sale<br />
COORDONATOR<br />
Oproiu N<strong>at</strong>alia<br />
ASISTENT<br />
D<strong>in</strong>u Elena<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Hîrtopanu Florent<strong>in</strong>a, Drăgul<strong>in</strong>escu Andreea Mihaela, Munteanu Răzvan Andrei,<br />
Dobre Geo Valent<strong>in</strong>, Dobre Marius Florian, Genunche Bianca Mihaela,<br />
Popa Lucia Ana-Maria, Ungureanu Crist<strong>in</strong>a<br />
Personaje<br />
Mama – Doamna Voicu: 35 ani, personalit<strong>at</strong>e puternică, critică, sfătuitoare.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a – Domnul Voicu: 40 ani, grijuliu, sever, dur, critic.<br />
Raluca Voicu – F<strong>at</strong>a lor de 12 ani: frumoasă, s¸<strong>at</strong>enă, ochii verzi, us¸or <strong>in</strong>fluent¸abilă,<br />
iubitoare.<br />
Ana Voicu – F<strong>at</strong>a lor de 10 ani: s¸<strong>at</strong>enă, ochii verzi, critică.<br />
Prietena Ralucăi (Roxana): 12 ani, cons¸ti<strong>in</strong>cioasă, dar s¸i veselă, distractivă.<br />
Prietenul Roxanei (Dragos¸): 17 ani, im<strong>at</strong>ur, dar responsabil, iubitor.<br />
Prietena Anei (Mihaela): 10 ani, sfătuitoare, critică.<br />
Directorul: 45 ani, personalit<strong>at</strong>e puternică, obiectiv, sfătuitor s¸i critic în<br />
acelas¸i timp.<br />
Doctorit¸a: 48 ani, calcul<strong>at</strong>ă, grijulie, sfătuitoare, critică.<br />
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SCENA I<br />
Acasă în bucătărie la fam. Voicu<br />
Decor<br />
Masă, pahare, scaune, fructe (mere, banane, portocale…).
Povestitorul: Raluca are 12 ani s¸i este f<strong>at</strong>a cea mare a familiei Voicu, Ana are<br />
10 ani s¸i este f<strong>at</strong>a cea mică. Fetele au un dialog acasă cu mama.<br />
Raluca: Mamă, mă duc la colega mea Roxana, să facem un proiect la biologie.<br />
Pa, pa!<br />
Mama: B<strong>in</strong>e, pot¸i merge, dar mai târziu de ora 21 să nu vii acasă, că-l superi pe<br />
taică-tu.<br />
Ana: Pot merge s¸i eu la Mihaela să mă joc?<br />
Mama: Raluca nu merge la joacă, se duce să facă un proiect la biologie. Când<br />
o să mai cres¸ti, o să te las s¸i pe t<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Ana: Nu-i corect ce se întâmplă!<br />
SCENA II<br />
Raluca acasă la Roxana<br />
Decor<br />
Ha<strong>in</strong>e peste tot, rujuri, farduri, parfumuri, fix<strong>at</strong>iv…<br />
Povestitorul: Raluca ajunge acasă la prietena ei, Roxana, care-i propune să<br />
meargă la o petrecere să se distreze.<br />
Raluca: Bună, Roxy! Am venit să facem proiectul la biologie.<br />
Roxana: Bună, Raluca! L-am făcut deja. Hai la o petrecere cu m<strong>in</strong>e să ne<br />
distrăm put¸<strong>in</strong>! Uite o rochie, farduri, rujuri…machiază-te s¸i hai să plecăm!<br />
Raluca: Stai put¸<strong>in</strong> să-i spun mamei că nu am term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong> proiectul s¸i rămân peste<br />
noapte la t<strong>in</strong>e, să nu se îngrijoreze. [la telefon] Alo, mami, vezi că am de scris<br />
foarte mult la proiect s¸i o să stau peste noapte la Roxana… să-l term<strong>in</strong>ăm,<br />
deoarece trebuie să-l predau la s¸coală până mâ<strong>in</strong>e… s¸i tu s¸tii ce note am.<br />
Mama [la telefon]: Pot¸i rămâne d<strong>in</strong> partea mea, dar ce să-i spun lui taică-tu?<br />
Raluca: Lasă că te descurci tu… Pa!<br />
Roxana: Ok, acum hai la petrecere!<br />
SCENA III<br />
Petrecerea<br />
Decor<br />
Masă, casetofon, pahare, v<strong>in</strong>, bere, sucuri, cola, fete s¸i băiet¸i.<br />
Povestitorul: Ajungând la petrecere, se întâlnes¸te cu vec<strong>in</strong>ul Roxanei.<br />
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Roxana: Raluca, el este Dragos¸, vec<strong>in</strong>ul meu.<br />
Raluca: Bună, Dragos¸, încânt<strong>at</strong>ă de cunos¸t<strong>in</strong>t¸ă!<br />
Dragos¸: Bună, Raluca! Ce nume frumos…<br />
Roxana: Eu vă las, mă duc să beau ceva.<br />
Dragos¸: De când o cunos¸ti pe Roxana?<br />
Raluca: De mult timp, suntem colege de bancă.<br />
Dragos¸: Aha… păi, s¸i de ce nu te-am mai văzut cu ea pr<strong>in</strong> cartier?<br />
Raluca: Păi… nu prea mă lasă t<strong>at</strong>a să ies, fac s¸i canto s¸i nu prea am timp.<br />
Dragos¸: Ît¸i place să cânt¸i? Vrei să devii vedetă?<br />
Raluca: Da, îmi place foarte mult să cânt s¸i, ca să dev<strong>in</strong> vedetă, îmi trebuie<br />
multe repetit¸ii.<br />
Dragos¸: Hai să bem ceva! Cola, bere, v<strong>in</strong>… Eu beau v<strong>in</strong>, vrei s¸i tu?<br />
Raluca: Da. Cât¸i ani ai, Dragos¸?<br />
Dragos¸: Am 17 ani, tu?<br />
Raluca: Eu am 12 s¸i mai am o soră de 10 ani.<br />
Dragos¸: Eu sunt s<strong>in</strong>gur la păr<strong>in</strong>t¸i. Nu vrei să ne retragem undeva unde e mai<br />
l<strong>in</strong>is¸te?<br />
Raluca: Da, prefer l<strong>in</strong>is¸tea.<br />
Povestitorul: Raluca s¸i Dragos¸ s-au retras în dormitor s¸i, după vreo 2 ore de<br />
căutări ale Roxanei, în sfârs¸it i-a găsit.<br />
Roxana: Unde v-<strong>at</strong>¸i ascuns? V-am căut<strong>at</strong> peste tot.<br />
Dragos¸: Ne-am retras într-o cameră mai l<strong>in</strong>is¸tită deoarece ne durea capul, d<strong>in</strong><br />
cauza muzicii.<br />
Roxana: Te simt¸i b<strong>in</strong>e, Raluca?<br />
Raluca: Mă doare put¸<strong>in</strong> capul.<br />
Roxana: Hai să plecăm acasa! Dragos¸, noi am plec<strong>at</strong>, pa!<br />
Dragos¸: Vă conduc până acasă?<br />
Roxana: Nu, mult¸umim!<br />
SCENA IV<br />
Dialogul păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ilor acasă<br />
Decor<br />
Masă, pahare, scaune, ibricul cu ceai, fructe…<br />
Povestitorul: În timp ce Raluca era la petrecere, t<strong>at</strong>ăl s-a întors acasă de la<br />
serviciu, la ora 23, s¸i a întreb<strong>at</strong>-o pe sot¸ie.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Unde e Raluca?<br />
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Mama: Raluca a plec<strong>at</strong> să facă un proiect pentru biologie la colega ei, Roxana.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: S¸i de ce nu a venit până la ora asta?<br />
Mama: A sun<strong>at</strong> să-mi spună că nu a term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong> proiectul s¸i rămâne la Roxana.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: S¸i eu de ce nu am fost anunt¸<strong>at</strong>? Am spus că nu are voie să înnopteze la<br />
nimeni!<br />
Mama: Dar e colega ei de s¸coală…<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Eu nu s¸tiu dacă e colegă… sau coleg, că nu am verific<strong>at</strong>. Lasă că vede ea<br />
mâ<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
SCENA V<br />
Întoarcerea Ralucăi acasă<br />
Decor<br />
Masă, scaune, căni de cafea, lapte, cereale…<br />
Povestitorul: A doua zi de dim<strong>in</strong>e<strong>at</strong>¸ă, Raluca a venit acasă, iar mama era la serviciu.<br />
Raluca: Bună dim<strong>in</strong>e<strong>at</strong>¸a, t<strong>at</strong>i!<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Nu e bună deloc pentru t<strong>in</strong>e! Ia ascultă, unde ai fost to<strong>at</strong>ă noaptea? De<br />
când s¸i până când dormi la colegele tale?<br />
Raluca: Am vorbit cu mama s¸i mi-a spus că pot rămâne la Roxana să term<strong>in</strong>ăm<br />
proiectul.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Proiectele nu se fac noaptea, ci ziua. Noaptea se v<strong>in</strong>e acasă ca să dormi, ca<br />
dim<strong>in</strong>e<strong>at</strong>¸a să pleci la s¸coală odihnită. Pentru asta, vei fi pedepsită.<br />
SCENA VI<br />
Raluca este însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă (vestea d<strong>at</strong>ă lui Dragos¸)<br />
Decor<br />
Pomi, flori, plante…<br />
Povestitorul: Raluca se simt¸ea foarte rău s¸i acasă, dar mai ales la s¸coală, avea<br />
stări de gre<strong>at</strong>¸ă, vomita, începuse să-i crească burta. Atunci, prietena ei,<br />
Roxana, a sfătuit-o să meargă la doctor să vadă dacă e însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă sau să-s¸i facă<br />
un test de sarc<strong>in</strong>ă. La doctor nu s-a dus, deoarece trebuia să meargă cu mama,<br />
în schimb a făcut un test de sarc<strong>in</strong>ă, care a ies¸it pozitiv. Era foarte disper<strong>at</strong>ă<br />
de ce vor spune păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii, dar mai ales prietenul pe care nu l-a mai văzut d<strong>in</strong><br />
ziua petrecerii, deoarece t<strong>at</strong>ăl său o pedepsise. Trecuseră vreo 4-5 luni de la<br />
369
petrecere s¸i legătura d<strong>in</strong>tre Dragos¸ s¸i Raluca era numai telefonică, deoarece<br />
t<strong>at</strong>ăl o ducea s¸i o lua de la s¸coală cu mas¸<strong>in</strong>a. Raluca s-a gândit să lipsească de<br />
la s¸coală s¸i să se întâlnească cu Dragos¸, ca să-i spună despre sarc<strong>in</strong>ă.<br />
Raluca: Bună, Dragos¸! Trebuie să ne vedem urgent, am ceva foarte important<br />
să-t¸i spun.<br />
Dragos¸: B<strong>in</strong>e, ne vedem în 30 de m<strong>in</strong>ute.<br />
Dragos¸: Ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>, de ce ai vrut să mă vezi as¸a urgent?<br />
Raluca: Avem o problemă…Sunt însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă.<br />
Dragos¸: Es¸ti sigură? De unde s¸tii?<br />
Raluca: Sunt foarte sigură. Am făcut testul s¸i este pozitiv.<br />
Dragos¸: Eu te iubesc s¸i vreau să păstrăm copilul.<br />
Raluca: S¸i cum le spun păr<strong>in</strong>t¸iilor despre sarc<strong>in</strong>ă? Cum or să react¸ioneze ei?<br />
Dragos¸: Eu te iubesc s¸i îmi doresc copilul ăsta, <strong>in</strong>diferent de ce vor spune ai tăi.<br />
Raluca: S¸i eu te iubesc s¸i o să mă gândesc cum să le spun.<br />
Dragos¸: Ai grijă! Ne auzim la telefon.<br />
SCENA VII<br />
Vestea d<strong>at</strong>ă păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ilor<br />
Decor<br />
Birou, scaun, calcul<strong>at</strong>or, cărt¸i, caiete, creioane, pixuri, penar.<br />
Povestitorul: Raluca nu s¸tie cum să spună păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ilor despre sarc<strong>in</strong>ă, dar ei află<br />
<strong>in</strong>stantaneu.<br />
Ana: Raluca, de ce es¸ti supăr<strong>at</strong>ă?<br />
Raluca: S¸tii noaptea petrecută la Roxana? De fapt, nu am învăt¸<strong>at</strong>, am fost la o<br />
petrecere unde am cunoscut un băi<strong>at</strong> pe nume Dragos¸, de care m-am<br />
îndrăgostit s¸i acum sunt însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă.<br />
Ana: Ce-ai spus? Es¸ti gravidă? Ai înnebunit? Tu te gândes¸ti la ce-o să-t¸i facă t<strong>at</strong>a?<br />
Raluca: Nu mă <strong>in</strong>teresează, noi ne iubim s¸i o să ne căsătorim.<br />
Povestitorul: Mama întrerupe discut¸ia.<br />
Mama: Ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>? Despre ce căsătorie e vorba?<br />
Ana: Spune-i s¸i mamei ce mi-ai spus s¸i mie.<br />
Raluca: Noaptea aceea în care am dormit la Roxana să scriem proiectul, de fapt<br />
am m<strong>in</strong>t¸it s¸i am fost la o petrecere, unde am cunoscut un băi<strong>at</strong> pe care îl<br />
iubesc s¸i mă iubes¸te, s¸i acum sunt însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă s¸i o să ne căsătorim.<br />
Mama: Cum, ai rămas însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă? Eu am avut încredere în t<strong>in</strong>e… M-ai<br />
dezamăgit… De ce t¸i-ai început vi<strong>at</strong>¸a sexuală la doar 12 ani? Copil fără m<strong>in</strong>te…<br />
370
Raluca: Nu am vrut, dar am băut ceva s¸i nu mai s¸tiu….<br />
Mama: De ce nu ai spus când ai sun<strong>at</strong>, că ît¸i spuneam cum să te protejezi. Sunt<br />
<strong>at</strong>âtea metode contraceptive…<br />
Raluca: Ne iubim s¸i o să ne căsătorim.<br />
Mama: Es¸ti de altă n<strong>at</strong>¸ionalit<strong>at</strong>e sau etnie, unde fetele se mărită s¸i nasc la 11-<br />
12 ani? Tu es¸ti româncă, europeancă, fetele se mărită după vârsta<br />
major<strong>at</strong>ului. După ce term<strong>in</strong>ă s¸coala, au o profesie, îs¸i fac o cariera în vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă s¸i<br />
abia <strong>at</strong>unci se gândesc la mărit<strong>at</strong>. Când o să afle taică-tu, o să vezi tu!<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Ce să aflu?<br />
Mama: A m<strong>in</strong>t¸it în legătură cu proiectul acela de la biologie când a rămas la<br />
Roxana peste noapte. De fapt, ea a petrecut cu un băi<strong>at</strong>… cu care este acum<br />
însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Cum ai putut face una ca asta? Es¸ti <strong>in</strong>cons¸tientă? Gravidă la 12 ani? Dute<br />
imedi<strong>at</strong> la spital să avortezi!<br />
Raluca: Nu vreau să avortez, nu vreau să omor un copil nev<strong>in</strong>ov<strong>at</strong> s¸i acum e<br />
prea târziu. Eu îl iubesc pe Dragos¸ s¸i o să ne căsătorim.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Cum te căsătores¸ti la 12 ani? Ai înnebunit!? Mai întâi trebuie să term<strong>in</strong>i<br />
gimnaziul, liceul, facult<strong>at</strong>ea s¸i pe urmă v<strong>in</strong>e măritis¸ul, nu acum. Dar, dacă<br />
vrei să nas¸ti, la m<strong>in</strong>e în casă nu mai ai ce căuta… Te duci la prietenul tău s¸i<br />
acolo să stai. Eu nu te mai consider f<strong>at</strong>a mea. Pentru m<strong>in</strong>e tu nu mai exis¸ti,<br />
pentru că nu m-ai ascult<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Povestitorul: Raluca îs¸i face bagajele să plece s¸i îl sună pe Dragos¸, prietenul ei.<br />
Raluca: Dragos¸, t<strong>at</strong>a a afl<strong>at</strong> de sarc<strong>in</strong>ă s¸i m-a d<strong>at</strong> afară d<strong>in</strong> casă. Ce să fac?<br />
Dragos¸: Nicio problemă, vei sta la m<strong>in</strong>e, v<strong>in</strong> să te iau.<br />
SCENA VIII<br />
Întâlnirea cu Roxana<br />
Decor<br />
Pomi, flori, plante…<br />
Povestitorul: Raluca s-a mut<strong>at</strong> la Dragos¸. Acolo a născut un băiet¸el, la vârsta<br />
de 13 ani. Între timp, ea a renunt¸<strong>at</strong> la s¸coală, dedicându-se cres¸terii copilului.<br />
Dar într-o zi, în timp ce se plimba pr<strong>in</strong> parc cu copilul, se întâlnes¸te cu colega<br />
ei, Roxana.<br />
Roxana: Bună, Raluca! Ce faci? De ce nu ai mai venit la s¸coală? De ce ai<br />
abandon<strong>at</strong> s¸coala? De ce nu m-ai sun<strong>at</strong>? Păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii tăi au spus că es¸ti plec<strong>at</strong>ă.<br />
C<strong>in</strong>e este copilul acesta? Doar nu este al tău, nu? Sau da? Nu ai avort<strong>at</strong>?<br />
371
Raluca: Prea multe întrebări, mă doare capul… Este veris¸orul meu s¸i trebuie săl<br />
duc acasă la maică-sa… Scuze, dar mă grăbesc. Te sun eu să ne vedem. Pa!<br />
SCENA IX<br />
Mama se duce la s¸coala Ralucăi în urma solicitării Directorlui<br />
Decor<br />
Birou, calcul<strong>at</strong>or, agendă, stilou, ghivece cu flori.<br />
Povestitorul: Mama a m<strong>in</strong>t¸it-o pe dirig<strong>in</strong>ta fetei, care o tot suna să întrebe de<br />
Raluca, că este plec<strong>at</strong>ă cu o mătus¸ă în stră<strong>in</strong>ăt<strong>at</strong>e. Directorul a sun<strong>at</strong>-o să v<strong>in</strong>ă<br />
urgent la s¸coală să clarifice situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia Ralucăi.<br />
Mama: Bună ziua, domnule director! Sunt mama Ralucăi Voicu s¸i am venit în<br />
urma solicitării dv.<br />
Directorul: Bună ziua, doamnă Voicu. V-am solicit<strong>at</strong> în legătură cu situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia<br />
s¸colară a Ralucăi. După cum s¸tit¸i, Raluca nu a mai venit la s¸coală de multă<br />
vreme, are foarte multe absent¸e s¸i va trebui să repete anul s¸colar. Îmi pare rău,<br />
că e o f<strong>at</strong>ă foarte bună s¸i talent<strong>at</strong>ă, face s¸i canto, dar asta-i situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia. Nu are<br />
note d<strong>in</strong> cauza absent¸elor pe semestrul 1, iar în semestrul 2 nu a venit deloc.<br />
Mama: Domnule director, să s¸tit¸i că f<strong>at</strong>a mea a abandon<strong>at</strong> s¸coala deoarece a<br />
rămas însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă, fără s¸tirea noastră. Cred că a s¸i născut… Nu mai s¸tiu nimic<br />
de ea… deoarece t<strong>at</strong>ăl ei a alung<strong>at</strong>-o d<strong>in</strong> casă s¸i nu mai locuies¸te cu noi;<br />
locuies¸te la prietenul ei.<br />
Directorul: Cum de s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong> as¸a ceva Ralucăi, care are doar 12 ani s¸i un<br />
păr<strong>in</strong>te <strong>at</strong>ât de exigent?<br />
Mama: A spus că pleacă la o colegă pentru a face un proiect la biologie… Acolo<br />
s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong> totul… D<strong>in</strong> păc<strong>at</strong>e s¸i noi am afl<strong>at</strong> prea târziu.<br />
Directorul: Îmi pare rău pentru cele întâmpl<strong>at</strong>e. Po<strong>at</strong>e s¸i dumneavoastră<br />
suntet¸i prea severi s¸i de aceea s-au întâmpl<strong>at</strong> aceste lucruri. În vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă, trebuie<br />
să le oferi copiilor put¸<strong>in</strong>ă libert<strong>at</strong>e pentru cunoas¸tere s¸i exprimare, pentru a<br />
diferent¸ia s<strong>in</strong>guri b<strong>in</strong>ele de rău. Ca urmare a celor întâmpl<strong>at</strong>e, sper să fie o<br />
lect¸ie pentru Ana.<br />
Mama: Vom fi mai <strong>at</strong>ent¸i cu ea.<br />
Directorul: La revedere, doamnă Voicu! Vă mult¸umesc că <strong>at</strong>¸i putut veni s¸i îmi<br />
pare rău că a trebuit să abandoneze s¸coala. Acum, tot ce mai putet¸i face este să<br />
o sust¸<strong>in</strong>et¸i d<strong>in</strong> punct de vedere al talentului său, deoarece are o voce m<strong>in</strong>un<strong>at</strong>ă.<br />
Mama: Mult¸umesc pentru înt¸elegere s¸i pentru sf<strong>at</strong>. Des¸i este un tip drastic, voi<br />
încerca să comunic eficient cu sot¸ul meu pentru b<strong>in</strong>ele Ralucăi.<br />
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SCENA X<br />
Dialogul surorilor<br />
Decor<br />
Masă, scaune, pahare, sticle, aperitive pe masă.<br />
Povestitorul: Peste 2 ani, Raluca v<strong>in</strong>e în lipsa păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ilor acasă s¸i vorbes¸te cu sora<br />
ei, Ana, care a făcut la fel ca ea… A rămas însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă la 12 ani.<br />
Raluca: Ce faci, Ana? Am venit să te vad că îmi era dor de t<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Ana: Bună! Nu fac foarte b<strong>in</strong>e. Mă doare burta s¸i nu am menstru<strong>at</strong>¸ie… Am<br />
gret¸uri… Cred că am făcut ca t<strong>in</strong>e, am rămas însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă!!!<br />
Raluca: S¸i ce-ai să faci? Sper că n-ai de gând să faci avort!?!<br />
Ana: Nu s¸tiu ce o să fac, dar sigur nu o să fac ca t<strong>in</strong>e, să abandonez s¸coala! Eu<br />
nu renunt¸ la ea. Pe t<strong>in</strong>e nu te-a ajut<strong>at</strong> faptul că ai renunt¸<strong>at</strong> la s¸coală.<br />
Raluca: E alegerea ta. Faci cum vrei. Dar gândes¸te-te că e vi<strong>at</strong>¸a unui copil la<br />
mijloc, un suflet nev<strong>in</strong>ov<strong>at</strong> pe care tu vrei să-l omori!<br />
Ana: O să mă gândesc mai b<strong>in</strong>e la situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia asta în care sunt acum.<br />
Raluca: Eu mai b<strong>in</strong>e plec până nu se întorc păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii acasă. Pa s¸i ne mai vedem!<br />
Ai grijă ce faci!<br />
SCENA XI<br />
Dialogul prietenelor<br />
Decor<br />
Masă, scaune, sucuri pe masă, pizza.<br />
Povestitorul: Ana s-a dus la prietena ei, Mihaela, să-i mărturisească un secret.<br />
Ana: Bună, Mihaela! Ce b<strong>in</strong>e că ne-am întâlnit să ît¸i spun un secret s¸i, po<strong>at</strong>e,<br />
îmi dai s¸i-un sf<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Mihaela: Ce secret ai s¸i cu ce-as¸ putea să ajut eu?<br />
Ana: Sunt însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă s¸i nu s¸tiu ce să fac… Să păstrez copilul sau să avortez?<br />
Mihaela: Cum ai rămas însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă? De ce nu te-ai protej<strong>at</strong>? Vrei să faci s¸i tu ca<br />
sora ta s¸i să abandonezi s¸coala? Păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii tăi s¸tiu?<br />
Ana: Nu, nu s¸tiu s¸i nu vreau să abandonez s¸coala. Eu vreau să-mi fac o carieră.<br />
Mihaela: În cazul acesta ar trebui să vorbes¸ti cu mama ta să faci avort.<br />
Ana: Da, d<strong>in</strong> păc<strong>at</strong>e, asta este s<strong>in</strong>gura solut¸ie.<br />
Mihaela: Că, dacă o să afle taică-tu, o să te alunge ca pe soră-ta. Tu spune-i<br />
mamei tale mai repede s¸i avortează!<br />
373
Ana: Chiar acum merg acasă s¸i o să-i spun mamei să mergem la doctor.<br />
Mihaela: B<strong>in</strong>e, Ana! Să mă t¸ii la curent cu ce-ai făcut! Pa!<br />
Ana: As¸a o să fac. Pa!<br />
SCENA XII<br />
Dialogul mamei cu Ana<br />
Decor<br />
Masă, scaune, farfurii, pahare, tacâmuri…<br />
Povestitorul: Ana v<strong>in</strong>e acasă în grabă s¸i spune marele secret, mamei.<br />
Ana: Mamă, am ceva foarte important să-t¸i spun.<br />
Mama: Ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Ana: Trebuie să mergem urgent la doctor, deoarece mă doare burta s¸i îmi este<br />
gre<strong>at</strong>¸ă. Nu mă simt prea b<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Mama: Sper că nu faci ca soră-ta, să îmi spui că es¸ti însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă?! Doar s¸tiai de<br />
metodele contraceptive s¸i de prezerv<strong>at</strong>iv, pe care trebuie să-l folosească<br />
bărb<strong>at</strong>ul <strong>at</strong>unci când…<br />
Ana: Nu cred, mami, că sunt, dar îmi este rău. Asta e tot.<br />
Mama: B<strong>in</strong>e, o să vedem noi…<br />
Povestitorul: Mama îi spune t<strong>at</strong>ălui că pleacă la doctor cu Ana, deoarece trebuie<br />
să-i facă analizele anuale.<br />
Mama: Eu merg cu Ana la doctor pentru analizele anuale pe care trebuie să i le<br />
fac.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Vă duc eu cu mas¸<strong>in</strong>a?<br />
Mama: Nu, mult¸umim. Mergem pe jos, să facem put¸<strong>in</strong>ă mis¸care.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: B<strong>in</strong>e! Atunci să mă sun<strong>at</strong>¸i să v<strong>in</strong> după voi.<br />
Mama: B<strong>in</strong>e, dragul meu.<br />
SCENA XIII<br />
Vizita la doctor<br />
Decor<br />
Birou, ret¸ete, pixuri, calcul<strong>at</strong>or, mănus¸i sterile, tensiometru, termometru,<br />
ustensile medicale sterile, p<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Povestitorul: Mama ajunge la medicul g<strong>in</strong>ecolog s¸i <strong>in</strong>tră în cab<strong>in</strong>et cu Ana.<br />
374
Mama: Bună ziua, doamnă doctor!<br />
Doctorit¸a: Bună ziua! Ce problemă avet¸i?<br />
Mama: Am venit cu f<strong>at</strong>a mea la control, deoarece se plânge că o doare burta s¸i<br />
nu i-a venit ciclul… Îmi este frică să nu facă ca sora ei cea mare… Să fie<br />
însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă la 12 ani!<br />
Doctorit¸a: 12 ani? As¸a mică? Cum e posibil? Trebuie să te consult. Doamnă,<br />
vă rog să merget¸i afară în salonul de as¸teptare s¸i vă anunt¸ după control.<br />
Povestitorul: După vreo 10 m<strong>in</strong>ute, doctorit¸a o anunt¸ă pe mamă că are voie să<br />
<strong>in</strong>tre în cab<strong>in</strong>et.<br />
Doctorit¸a: Vă rog să <strong>in</strong>tr<strong>at</strong>¸i, dna Voicu! F<strong>at</strong>a dvs. este însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă în 2 luni. Ce<br />
avet¸i de gând să facet¸i?<br />
Mama: Păi, a făcut ca soră-sa… Po<strong>at</strong>e s¸i d<strong>in</strong> v<strong>in</strong>a lui taică-su, că le-a t¸<strong>in</strong>ut în<br />
casă s¸i a fost prea sever cu ele…<br />
Doctorit¸a: Nu este bună nici prea multa severit<strong>at</strong>e, dar nici libert<strong>at</strong>e prea mare.<br />
Copiii trebuie control<strong>at</strong>¸i, verific<strong>at</strong>¸i, nu închis¸i în casă, că <strong>at</strong>unci o comit.<br />
Mama: Dacă află taică-su, o va alunga d<strong>in</strong> casă ca pe sora ei. Eu sugerez să-i<br />
facet¸i avort.<br />
Doctorit¸a: E cam riscant la o vârstă as¸a de mică. Fac tot posibilul să se term<strong>in</strong>e<br />
cu b<strong>in</strong>e. Psihic, e term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă că îs¸i omoară propriul copil. Sf<strong>at</strong>ul meu este, ca<br />
după avort, s-o ducet¸i la psiholog, pentru l<strong>in</strong>is¸tea ei sufletească.<br />
Mama: Mult¸umesc mult pentru sf<strong>at</strong> s¸i sugestii.<br />
Doctorit¸a: Ana, te rog să <strong>in</strong>tri să ne spui ce-ai hotărât? Am vorbit cu mama ta,<br />
s¸tie că es¸ti însărc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ă, trebuie să lu<strong>at</strong>¸i o decizie împreună.<br />
Mama: Cum de s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong> as¸a ceva? Ai urm<strong>at</strong> exemplul surorii tale? Nu s¸tiai<br />
de metodele de protect¸ie? Contraceptive…<br />
Ana: Lasă, mamă teoria acum, că e prea târziu! S-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>… Important să nu<br />
afle t<strong>at</strong>a s¸i să fac avortul… Eu nu vreau să abandonez s¸coala ca sora mea…<br />
Vreau să-mi cont<strong>in</strong>uu studiile.<br />
Mama: Doamnă doctor, vă rog să-mi spune-t¸i cât mă costă?<br />
Doctorit¸a: Tarifele sunt afis¸<strong>at</strong>e pe us¸ă.<br />
Mama: Foarte scump! Dar ce să fac? Prostia fetei mele se plătes¸te.<br />
Povestitorul: După vreo 2 ore de as¸teptare, mama <strong>in</strong>tră d<strong>in</strong> nou în cab<strong>in</strong>et s¸i o<br />
întreabă pe doctorit¸ă:<br />
Mama: Doamnă doctor, ce face f<strong>at</strong>a mea? E b<strong>in</strong>e? Putem pleca acasă? Deoarece<br />
a sun<strong>at</strong> taică-su să mă întrebe de ce nu venim acasă. Este îngrijor<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Doctorit¸a: Acum este b<strong>in</strong>e, dar, îna<strong>in</strong>te de a ajunge acasă, trecet¸i pe la farmacie<br />
să-i lu<strong>at</strong>¸i ret¸eta aceasta de antibiotice ca să nu facă vreo <strong>in</strong>fect¸ie s¸i i-am<br />
recomand<strong>at</strong> s¸i pilule contraceptive pentru viitor.<br />
Mama: Mult¸umim frumos.<br />
375
SCENA XIV<br />
Dialogul păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ilor<br />
Decor<br />
Masă, scaune, bere, pahare…<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Unde <strong>at</strong>¸i st<strong>at</strong> as¸a de mult?<br />
Mama: La analize… Am as¸tept<strong>at</strong> rezult<strong>at</strong>ul.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: S¸i ce are?<br />
Mama: Este put¸<strong>in</strong> anemică. Am trecut s¸i pe la farmacie să-i cumpăr<br />
medicamentele prescrise de doctorit¸ă.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Este grav? Ce medicamente?<br />
Mama: Nu-i nimic grav. Sunt vitam<strong>in</strong>e de întărire s¸i fier pentru anemie.<br />
SCENA XV<br />
Întâlnirea Anei cu Mihaela<br />
Decor<br />
Pomi, flori, plante…<br />
Ana: Bună, Mihaela! T¸i-am ascult<strong>at</strong> sf<strong>at</strong>ul s¸i am fost cu mama la doctor pentru<br />
a face avort.<br />
Mihaela: Îmi pare b<strong>in</strong>e că nu ai abandon<strong>at</strong> s¸coala ca sora ta, dar îmi pare rău<br />
pentru copil.<br />
Ana: S¸tiu că nu e b<strong>in</strong>e, dar era s<strong>in</strong>gura solut¸ie ca să-mi cont<strong>in</strong>uu studiile s¸i sămi<br />
fac o carieră mai târziu.<br />
Mihaela: E b<strong>in</strong>e că ît¸i pot¸i cont<strong>in</strong>ua studiile, deoarece copii pot¸i face s¸i mai<br />
târziu. Ai grijă cum te protejezi ca să nu se repete…<br />
Ana: Am contraceptive de la doctor. Pa! Te pup!<br />
Mihaela: S¸i eu, pa!<br />
376<br />
SCENA XVI<br />
Întâlnirea surolilor<br />
Decor<br />
Birou, calcul<strong>at</strong>or, caiete, cărt¸i…
Raluca: Ce faci, Ana? Ce ai făcut în legătura cu sarc<strong>in</strong>a?<br />
Ana: Am mers la doctor cu mama s¸i am avort<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Raluca: Ai făcut o mare gres¸eală!<br />
Ana: Da, am făcut o gres¸eală, dar nu am abandon<strong>at</strong> s¸coala ca t<strong>in</strong>e. Acum îmi<br />
pot face o carieră… Familie îmi fac mai târziu… Nu acum.<br />
Raluca: Stai l<strong>in</strong>is¸tită că multe talente care nu au studii superioare au ajuns vedete.<br />
S¸i eu mă pot realiza în vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă d<strong>at</strong>orită talentului meu s¸i pot ajunge mare vedetă.<br />
Ana: Eu mă bucur pentru t<strong>in</strong>e. Dragos¸ te iubes¸te, are grijă de voi s¸i suntet¸i<br />
fericit¸i.<br />
Dragos¸: E foarte b<strong>in</strong>e că pot¸i term<strong>in</strong>a s¸coala s¸i ît¸i pot¸i construi o carieră.<br />
Raluca: S¸i eu mă bucur pentru t<strong>in</strong>e că pot¸i să-t¸i cont<strong>in</strong>ui studiile, dar, în acelas¸i<br />
timp, îmi pare rău pentru acel copil. O să mai vorbim. Noi am plec<strong>at</strong>. Pa!<br />
SCENA XVII<br />
F<strong>in</strong>alul – Dialogul în familie<br />
Decor<br />
Masă, scaune, fructe, dulciuri, căni, pahare…<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Având în vedere ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong> cu sora ta, că a abondon<strong>at</strong> s¸coala d<strong>in</strong><br />
cauza sarc<strong>in</strong>ii, nu as¸ vrea să se repete acelas¸i lucru s¸i cu t<strong>in</strong>e. Atâta timp cât<br />
nu mă vei m<strong>in</strong>t¸i s¸i ît¸i vei respecta înd<strong>at</strong>oririle de elevă, eu te voi ajuta cu tot<br />
ce vei avea nevoie.<br />
Ana: Eu nu voi abandona s¸coala ca ea. Îmi voi term<strong>in</strong>a studiile s¸i, abia <strong>at</strong>unci,<br />
mă voi gândi la mărit<strong>at</strong> s¸i la o familie.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a: Sper să fie as¸a! E spre b<strong>in</strong>ele tău.<br />
Mama: Sper să fie învăt¸ătură de m<strong>in</strong>te pentru mai târziu, să nu mai repet¸i aceeas¸i<br />
gres¸eală ca s¸i sora ta. Cred că te-ai m<strong>at</strong>uriz<strong>at</strong> s¸i ai învăt¸<strong>at</strong> d<strong>in</strong> gres¸eli. S¸tii<br />
proverbul acela: «Oamenii d<strong>in</strong> gres¸eli înv<strong>at</strong>¸ă». Sper să fie valabil s¸i pentru t<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
377
Personajele<br />
Aceasta nu este o poveste<br />
COORDONATOR<br />
Anca Florea, Asoci<strong>at</strong>¸ia «No Abuse», Bucures¸ti<br />
AUTOR<br />
Alexandru Stoica, clasa a IX-a<br />
Spike, un adolescent de 15 ani.<br />
Mama lui Spike, o femeie muncitoare, dar plictisită de vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă.<br />
Tony, prietenul cel mai bun al lui Spike s¸i colegul lui de clasă.<br />
Flori, prietenă bună cu Tony. Înv<strong>at</strong>¸ă la aceeas¸i s¸coală.<br />
Maria, prietenă s¸i colegă de clasă cu Flori.<br />
Dl. Badea, t<strong>at</strong>ăl lui Spike, om care apreciază mult banii.<br />
Alexandra, fiica d-lui Badea, sora vitregă a lui Spike.<br />
Cost<strong>in</strong>, fiul d-lui Badea s¸i fr<strong>at</strong>ele Alexandrei. De asemenea, fr<strong>at</strong>ele vitreg al<br />
lui Spike.<br />
Trei elevi.<br />
Profesorul.<br />
SCENA I<br />
Bucures¸ti. Elevii de clasa a VIII-a urmează sa dea teză. Agit<strong>at</strong>¸ie. Forfotă. Se mută bănci.<br />
Elevul 1: Bă, am nevoie de ajutor! Mută banca asta mai aproape de m<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
Elevul 2: S¸i dacă se pr<strong>in</strong>de ăla?<br />
378
Elevul 1: Stai calm… Nu se pr<strong>in</strong>de… Apucă de asta!<br />
Elevul 3: Nu as¸a… Împ<strong>in</strong>ge put¸<strong>in</strong>! G<strong>at</strong>a…<br />
Intră profesorul cu foile de examen.<br />
Profesorul: Am venit! Hai, g<strong>at</strong>a, l<strong>in</strong>is¸te! Complet<strong>at</strong>¸i foile în colt¸ul d<strong>in</strong> dreapta<br />
sus… S¸tit¸i deja… Numele s¸i prenumele vostru, numele si prenumele t<strong>at</strong>ălui<br />
s¸i al mamei, s¸coala etc. etc. Să nu gres¸it¸i!<br />
Spike: S¸i dacă n-am t<strong>at</strong>ă?<br />
Profesorul [plictisit]: Tragi bară…<br />
Elevul 1: Ăsta n-are t<strong>at</strong>ă, bă?<br />
Elevul 2: Nu s¸tiu…<br />
Elevul 3 [râde]: Ce, mă, e secret?<br />
Spike se ridică brusc d<strong>in</strong> bancă s¸i, cu f<strong>at</strong>¸a la sală, începe să cânte în ritm de hip-hop.<br />
În acest timp, scena se rotes¸te, iar în locul clasei apare un <strong>in</strong>terior de apartament,<br />
<strong>in</strong>clusiv us¸a de la <strong>in</strong>trare. Pe jos sunt hârtii împrăs¸ti<strong>at</strong>e, ha<strong>in</strong>e, farfurii murdare.<br />
Spike [cântă în ritm hip-hop]:De mic copil am trăit într-un secret.<br />
Vi<strong>at</strong>¸a mea… a fost un accident.<br />
Mama… s<strong>in</strong>gură m-a crescut,<br />
T<strong>at</strong>a nu-i un cuvânt plăcut.<br />
Am rămas tare în cont<strong>in</strong>uare<br />
Cu gândul «Sperant¸a nu moare».<br />
S¸i s¸tiu că o să aflu tot,<br />
Ăsta e s<strong>in</strong>gurul meu scop.<br />
Spike <strong>in</strong>tră în casă o d<strong>at</strong>ă cu mama sa. Ea începe să strângă hârtiile împrăs¸ti<strong>at</strong>e s¸i<br />
farfuriile de pe jos, în timp ce el o prives¸te fix.<br />
Mama: Ce-ai păt¸it, Spike?<br />
Spike: De mult am vrut să te întreb o chestie, dar n-am avut curaj. Despre<br />
t<strong>at</strong>a… Nu te-am întreb<strong>at</strong> niciod<strong>at</strong>ă.<br />
Mama: Ce?<br />
Spike: Unde este? C<strong>in</strong>e este? S¸i… de ce m-a lăs<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Mama: De ce tocmai acum!?!<br />
Spike: Mamă, eu de 15 ani trăiesc într-un secret. De fapt… sunt un secret. Numi<br />
cunosc trecutul, nu s¸tiu c<strong>in</strong>e sunt… M-am sătur<strong>at</strong>!<br />
379
Mama: Nici eu nu s¸tiu b<strong>in</strong>e c<strong>in</strong>e e… Adică nu s¸tiam… Până am afl<strong>at</strong>…<br />
Spike: Cum te-ai cunoscut tu cu t<strong>at</strong>a?<br />
Mama: Eram în facult<strong>at</strong>e… S¸i am cunoscut un om m<strong>in</strong>un<strong>at</strong>… pe t<strong>at</strong>ăl tău.<br />
Spike: Tu l-ai iubit mult pe t<strong>at</strong>a…<br />
Mama: Da… dar cu timpul s-a schimb<strong>at</strong>… Ne vedeam d<strong>in</strong> ce în ce mai rar…<br />
S¸i când i-am spus că am rămas gravidă…<br />
Spike: A plec<strong>at</strong>…<br />
Mama: Da…<br />
Spike: De ce-a plec<strong>at</strong>? De ce nu m-a vrut?<br />
Mama: Pentru că… avea s¸i el un secret pe care l-am afl<strong>at</strong> foarte târziu.<br />
Spike: S¸i… care-i marele secret?<br />
Mama: La ce-t¸i foloses¸te să s¸tii?<br />
Spike [ca pentru s<strong>in</strong>e]: Prea multe secrete… Sunt prea multe secrete…<br />
Mama: Avea o vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă dublă: avea deja o familie! Spike…<br />
Spike: Deci… e posibil să mai am fr<strong>at</strong>¸i!?!<br />
Mama: Probabil că da… Dar nu s¸tiu nimic despre ei.<br />
Spike: Dar… numele de familie?<br />
Mama: Badea. Dar să nu te gândes¸ti la bărb<strong>at</strong>ul de la etajul 2 că nu-i el!<br />
Spike [râde]: Ăla gras? [serios] S¸i… ai lăs<strong>at</strong>-o as¸a moale? N-ai încerc<strong>at</strong> să-l opres¸ti<br />
să plece?<br />
Mama: N-am s¸tiut că vrea să plece. A plec<strong>at</strong> într-o noapte. Pur s¸i simplu a<br />
dispărut… Mi-a lăs<strong>at</strong> doar biletul în care mi-a spus că pleacă; s¸i… că mai are<br />
o familie.<br />
Spike: Tu zici că era un om bun… m<strong>in</strong>un<strong>at</strong>, dar… ce om bun s¸i-ar lăsa copilul<br />
să crească s<strong>in</strong>gur?!<br />
Mama: O să vezi că dragostea e oarbă… Eu îl iubeam <strong>at</strong>unci… Dar pentru el<br />
nu a cont<strong>at</strong>. Cealaltă familie era mai importantă.<br />
Spike: Mamă, eu sunt hotărât să-l caut!<br />
Mama: De ce vrei să-l caut¸i dacă el te-a părăsit?<br />
Spike: Pentru că în vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă totul se plătes¸te!<br />
Iese.<br />
Mama: Ce-ai făcut la teză?<br />
Spike [bagă capul pe us¸ă]: B<strong>in</strong>e…<br />
380
SCENA II<br />
Ora de <strong>in</strong>form<strong>at</strong>ică. Elevii sunt îmbrăc<strong>at</strong>¸i în uniforme, iar pe sub ele se zăresc ha<strong>in</strong>e<br />
de stradă: blugii ies¸<strong>in</strong>d pr<strong>in</strong> fermoarul deschis de la pantaloni s¸i tricourile color<strong>at</strong>e<br />
pe sub sacouri.<br />
Tony: Bă, Spike, hai să ne jucăm CS!<br />
Spike: Nu acum, băi Tony. Intră un pic pe Facebook!<br />
Tony: Hai, bă, să ne jucăm. Ce naiba vrei să faci pe Facebook?<br />
Spike: Vreau să văd dacă are t<strong>at</strong>a poze<br />
Tony: Care t<strong>at</strong>ă, bă, că nici nu-l cunos¸ti. S¸tii cum ar<strong>at</strong>ă măcar?<br />
Spike: Nu, mă, dar am vorbit cu mama s¸i s¸tiu cum îl cheamă. S¸i cred că<br />
seamănă cu m<strong>in</strong>e…<br />
Tony: S¸i tu chiar vrei să-l caut¸i? Dacă e vreun boschetar?<br />
Spike: Măcar po<strong>at</strong>e-mi găsesc fr<strong>at</strong>¸ii… Mă ajut¸i?<br />
Tony: B<strong>in</strong>e… Facebook să fie!<br />
Se sună de pauză. În scenă <strong>in</strong>tră mult¸i elevi, pr<strong>in</strong>tre care Maria s¸i Flori.<br />
Flori: Nu-i as¸a că-i drăgut¸ Tony? Ce crezi?<br />
Maria: Da, e drăgut¸. De ce, vrei să vă comb<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>¸i?<br />
Flori: Suntem prieteni… dar… mi-ar plăcea s¸i altceva…<br />
Maria: Păi… încearcă să vorbes¸ti mai mult cu el!<br />
Flori: S¸i… ce să-i spun? Că-mi place de el? Sună ciud<strong>at</strong>…<br />
Maria: Atunci as¸teaptă să facă el primul pas…<br />
Flori: Dacă e după el, pot s-as¸tept mult s¸i b<strong>in</strong>e… Crezi c-o să-i placă blugii mei<br />
scurt¸i?<br />
Maria: Nu s¸tiu. Hai să vedem!<br />
Îs¸i desface fusta de uniformă s¸i rămâne în blugi scurt¸i.<br />
Tony: Bună, Flori! Ce faci?<br />
Flori: B<strong>in</strong>e, am <strong>in</strong>form<strong>at</strong>ică. Tu?<br />
Tony: Mă duc să mă plimb cu Spike, că următoarea oră am religie.<br />
Spike îl trage într-o parte pe Tony.<br />
Spike: C<strong>in</strong>e e f<strong>at</strong>a de lângă Flori?!<br />
Tony: E prietena ei. O cheamă Maria. De ce întrebi?<br />
381
Spike: E foarte drăgut¸ă s¸i… Nu s¸tiu de ce, dar… mă simt ciud<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Tony [râde]: Po<strong>at</strong>e te-ai îndrăgostit!<br />
Spike: …<br />
Se apropie amândoi de Maria s¸i Flori.<br />
Tony: Maria – Spike.<br />
Spike: Încânt<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Maria: De asemenea!<br />
Tony o trage de-o parte pe Flori s¸i pleacă t¸<strong>in</strong>ând-o de br<strong>at</strong>¸.<br />
Spike: …<br />
Maria: …<br />
Spike: Es¸ti… prietenă bună cu Tony?<br />
Maria: Flori se înt¸elege mult mai b<strong>in</strong>e cu el. Noi suntem doar amici.<br />
Spike: Crezi că e ceva între ei?<br />
Maria: Nu s¸tiu sigur, dar stau mult timp împreună. Cred că lui Flori i-ar plăcea,<br />
dar ar vrea ca s¸i Tony să spună ceva.<br />
Spike: Eu cred că s¸i el o place la fel de mult cum…<br />
Maria: Cum ce?<br />
Spike: Auzi, m-am gândit… dacă vrei… să mergem la o prăjitură tot¸i p<strong>at</strong>ru.<br />
Maria: Dar am oră…<br />
Spike: La <strong>in</strong>form<strong>at</strong>ică oricum nu facet¸i nimic; s¸i eu am religie… as¸a că…<br />
Maria: Nu s¸tiu… Dacă vrea s¸i Flori, <strong>at</strong>unci mergem.<br />
Intră Tony s¸i Flori.<br />
Tony: V-<strong>at</strong>¸i hotărât? Ies¸im… «în familie»?<br />
Ies tot¸i.<br />
SCENA III<br />
Primavara. În parc. Spike s¸i Flori sunt as¸ez<strong>at</strong>¸i pe o bancă. Intră Tony.<br />
Tony: Copii… v-am adus: sem<strong>in</strong>t¸e, suc s¸i… t¸igări doar pentru păr<strong>in</strong>t¸i [râde; îs¸i<br />
apr<strong>in</strong>de o t¸igară].<br />
382
Sună telefonul. Răspunde Spike.<br />
Spike: Da, iubi!<br />
Telefonul [glasul Mariei]: Ce faci, iubi? Unde es¸ti?<br />
Spike: B<strong>in</strong>e… Sunt în parc cu Tony s¸i cu Flori. Suntem tot¸i aici. V<strong>in</strong>o s¸i tu!<br />
Telefonul: Dar avem lucrare! Venit¸i s¸i voi la s¸coală!<br />
Spike [recită]:E prea frumos afară<br />
Ca să stăm la s¸coală…<br />
Telefonul: S¸tiu… dar…<br />
Spike: Hai, măi, v<strong>in</strong>o s¸i tu! Las-o naibii de lucrare!<br />
Telefonul: Nu s¸tiu… Dă-mi-o s¸i mie pe Flori un pic.<br />
Flori: Ce faci, f<strong>at</strong>ă? Avem lucrare azi!?!<br />
Telefonul: Da. La română. Nu vii?<br />
Flori: Sunt cu Tony… V<strong>in</strong>o s¸i tu să stai cu Spike… Am lu<strong>at</strong> suc…<br />
Maria: B<strong>in</strong>e, v<strong>in</strong>. S¸i as¸a nu s¸tiu mare lucru…<br />
Tony îl ia deoparte pe Spike.<br />
Tony: Mă, l-am găsit!<br />
Spike: Ce?<br />
Tony: L-am găsit pe taică-tu pe Facebook!<br />
Spike: Es¸ti sigur că e el?<br />
Tony: Seamănă cu t<strong>in</strong>e leit! Trebuie să fie el! Lucian Badea…<br />
Spike: S¸i… unde stă? Ce scrie?<br />
Tony: Aici, în Bucures¸ti.<br />
Maria [care a <strong>in</strong>tr<strong>at</strong> s¸i este în sp<strong>at</strong>ele lor]: C<strong>in</strong>e stă în Bucures¸ti?<br />
Spike: …<br />
Maria: Spike?<br />
Spike [o sărută]: Iubi, mi-ai lipsit… [o îmbrăt¸is¸ează]<br />
Maria: Nu mai schimba subiectul! E o f<strong>at</strong>ă, nu?<br />
Spike: Nu… Hai să stai cu noi! Ît¸i povestesc mai târziu.<br />
Personajele înghe<strong>at</strong>¸ă, în afară de Spike.<br />
Spike [cântă]:De s¸coală nu mai sunt <strong>in</strong>teres<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Am afect¸iunea la care am vis<strong>at</strong>,<br />
Familia adevăr<strong>at</strong>ă, la care am sper<strong>at</strong>,<br />
De parcă Dumnezeu m-ar fi consol<strong>at</strong>.<br />
S¸i nimic nu mă va mai dărâma.<br />
383
Scopul este puternic în m<strong>in</strong>tea mea<br />
S¸i într-un f<strong>in</strong>al t<strong>at</strong>a va vedea<br />
Că, s¸i fără el, tot am realiz<strong>at</strong> ceva!<br />
SCENA IV<br />
August. Seara. O terasă în Bucures¸ti.<br />
Spike debarasează mesele. Dl. Badea cites¸te ziarul, as¸ez<strong>at</strong> pe unul d<strong>in</strong> scaune.<br />
Spike: Domnule Badea, după ce term<strong>in</strong>, mai avet¸i nevoie de ceva?<br />
Dl. Badea: Tu term<strong>in</strong>ă aici s¸i discutăm după.<br />
Alexandra [<strong>in</strong>tră]: T<strong>at</strong>ă, te cheamă mama în bucătărie.<br />
Dl. Badea se ridică s¸i iese.<br />
Alexandra: Spike, te ajut ca să term<strong>in</strong>i mai repede?<br />
Spike: Nu, că mă descurc.<br />
Alexandra: S¸i-as¸a n-am ce face…<br />
Spike: B<strong>in</strong>e… Atunci pot¸i să strângi ces¸tile alea…<br />
Alexandra sparge o ceas¸că s¸i se apleacă după ea.<br />
Spike: A… Stai să te ajut. Să nu te tai!<br />
Alexandra: Îmi pare rău… Sper să nu se supere t<strong>at</strong>a pe t<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Spike: Nu-i nimic (o sărută pe obraz).<br />
Alexandra: S¸i… prietena ta nu se supară?<br />
Spike: Nu cred…<br />
Intră Dl. Badea. Alexandra iese cu ces¸tile.<br />
Spike: Uit<strong>at</strong>¸i, am term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>. Mai avet¸i nevoie de ceva?<br />
Dl. Badea: Nu. Mult¸umesc de ajutor.<br />
Spike: Mâ<strong>in</strong>e pe la cât să v<strong>in</strong>?<br />
Dl. Badea: Mâ<strong>in</strong>e avem închis. Plec cu familia la pescuit. Po<strong>at</strong>e pot¸i să vii s¸i tu…<br />
Spike: Da… Mi-ar plăcea foarte mult. Mult¸umesc pentru <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>¸ie!<br />
Dl. Badea: B<strong>in</strong>e. Mâ<strong>in</strong>e la ora 5 să fii aici!<br />
Spike: V<strong>in</strong>e… s¸i Alexandra?<br />
Dl. Badea [râde]: Da, v<strong>in</strong>e s¸i ea.<br />
384
Spike: Am înt¸eles. Bună seara! Ne vedem mâ<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Spike iese.<br />
Dl. Badea: Măi Alexandra, ia v<strong>in</strong>o să vorbesc ceva cu t<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
Alexandra [d<strong>in</strong> sp<strong>at</strong>e]: Da, t<strong>at</strong>i, spune [<strong>in</strong>tră].<br />
Dl. Badea: Am văzut că tot stai pe lângă Spike.<br />
Alexandra: Păi… da…<br />
Dl. Badea: Ît¸i place băi<strong>at</strong>u’?<br />
Alexandra: S<strong>in</strong>cer… t<strong>at</strong>i… da. Mi se pare că e foarte de treabă. (aparte) Parcăl<br />
cunosc de mult…<br />
Dl. Badea: Da, e de treabă… foarte muncitor. S¸i nici nu mă costă mult… Miar<br />
pr<strong>in</strong>de b<strong>in</strong>e să fie pr<strong>in</strong> preajmă…<br />
Alexandra: Adică… Ce vrei să spui?<br />
Dl. Badea: Nimic, doar că mi se pare că vă înt¸eleget¸i b<strong>in</strong>e…<br />
Alexandra [repede]: Da. Ne înt¸elegem chiar foarte b<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
Dl. Badea [pe gânduri]: Mi-ar plăcea ca s¸i fr<strong>at</strong>ele tău să fie la fel de muncitor ca el…<br />
Dl. Badea iese. Intră Spike în colt¸ul d<strong>in</strong> dreapta al terasei. Alexandra rămâne în<br />
partea stângă. Cântă amândoi.<br />
Alexandra: M-am îndrăgostit lulea…<br />
Spike: Secretul meu se va afla?<br />
Alexandra: Simt că-mi ascunde ceva…<br />
Spike: Oare ea s¸tie deja?<br />
Alexandra: Nu s¸tiu de ce, dar mă simt ciud<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Spike: Ea e sora la care am vis<strong>at</strong>…<br />
Alexandra: S¸i în curând va trebui să-i spun…<br />
Spike: Că eu sunt fr<strong>at</strong>ele ei cel bun.<br />
SCENA V<br />
MacDonald’s. După-amiază.<br />
Maria s¸i Flori sunt as¸ez<strong>at</strong>e pe scaune, la terasă.<br />
Flori: Auzi, f<strong>at</strong>ă, Spike a trecut clasa?<br />
Maria: Nu… a rămas. Stă mai mult cu voi decât pe la s¸coală…<br />
Flori: Nici cu noi nu prea mai stă… Tot timpul e ocup<strong>at</strong> cu altceva.<br />
385
Maria: Am văzut s¸i eu că e preocup<strong>at</strong>. Când l-am întreb<strong>at</strong>, a zis că are o treabă<br />
importantă s¸i că nu-l <strong>in</strong>teresează dacă rămâne repetent…<br />
Flori: Am s¸i eu corijent¸ă la m<strong>at</strong>e s¸i la geogra. Sper să scap.<br />
Maria: Să scapi, f<strong>at</strong>ă, să fim colege s¸i anu’ viitor!<br />
Flori: Oricum, dacă rămân, o să fiu în clasă cu Tony… [zâmbes¸te vis<strong>at</strong>oare].<br />
Maria: Ce vă mai iubit¸i voi…<br />
Intră Spike cu Alexandra de mână, dl. Badea s¸i Cost<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Cost<strong>in</strong>: Înghet¸<strong>at</strong>ă cu pes¸te merge?<br />
Râd tot¸i.<br />
Dl. Badea: Hai, st<strong>at</strong>¸i s¸i voi la o masă. Ce vret¸i să mânc<strong>at</strong>¸i?<br />
Încep să-s¸i tragă scaune s¸i să se as¸eze.<br />
Flori [cu gura căsc<strong>at</strong>ă]: Auzi… Ăsta nu-i Spike?<br />
Maria: Care?<br />
Se întoarce s¸i se uită în direct¸ia unde se uita s¸i Flori.<br />
Maria [ca pentru s<strong>in</strong>e, recită în ritm hip-hop]: Nu-mi v<strong>in</strong>e să cred… / M-a îns¸el<strong>at</strong>,<br />
/ Când totul era perfect!<br />
Se ridică s¸i trece grăbită pe lângă Spike. Spike o vede s¸i se ridică la rândul lui.<br />
Spike: Maria!?! Stai!<br />
Maria [în ritm hip-hop]: Nu vreau s-aud, ce văd mi-e de ajuns! / As¸a de clar acuma<br />
mi-ai răspuns!<br />
De aici încolo, to<strong>at</strong>e personajele cântă în ritm hip-hop.<br />
Flori: S-o las¸i în pace, Spike!<br />
Alexandra: Ea c<strong>in</strong>e e!?!<br />
Flori: Tu taci s¸i să te t¸ii departe!<br />
Alexandra: Hei, vreau să aflu ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>! / În ce încurcătură m-am băg<strong>at</strong>…<br />
Spike o ia de mână pe Maria.<br />
386
Spike: O să explic totul imedi<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Dl. Badea: Hai, să te-aud!<br />
Tot¸i [în afară de Maria]: Da, chiar!<br />
Maria: Orice ai spune e-n zadar! [dă să plece].<br />
Spike: Stai as¸a, / Nu pleca, / Ascultă măcar povestea!<br />
Dl. Badea [b<strong>at</strong>e d<strong>in</strong> picior]: Orice ai spune, es¸ti concedi<strong>at</strong>!<br />
Spike: T<strong>at</strong>ă, ai grijă să nu faci <strong>in</strong>farct!<br />
Tot¸i: T<strong>at</strong>ă!?!<br />
Alexandra [se uită spre dl. Badea]: T<strong>at</strong>ă? E-adevăr<strong>at</strong>? Adică Spike e…<br />
Spike [adresându-se d-lui Badea]: De m<strong>in</strong>e ai crezut că ai scăp<strong>at</strong>. / Dar hai să-t¸i<br />
spun ceva: te-ai îns¸el<strong>at</strong>. / Nu uita, în vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă to<strong>at</strong>e se plătesc! / Eu sunt aici ca<br />
să-t¸i am<strong>in</strong>tesc!<br />
Alexandra: De fr<strong>at</strong>ele meu m-am îndrăgostit… / Tu, t<strong>at</strong>ă, m-ai m<strong>in</strong>t¸it!<br />
Dl. Badea: Nu dau socoteală nimănui! / Decât în f<strong>at</strong>¸a Domnului… / Crezi cai<br />
rezolv<strong>at</strong> ceva / Că t¸i-ai bătut joc de familia mea?<br />
Spike: Am vrut să vadă s¸i ei c<strong>in</strong>e es¸ti, / Că po<strong>at</strong>e nici pe ei nu îi iubes¸ti…<br />
Alexandra: Nici nu s¸tiu ce să cred…<br />
Dl. Badea: Da, po<strong>at</strong>e cu t<strong>in</strong>e am gres¸it, / Dar pe copiii mei i-am iubit!<br />
Cost<strong>in</strong>: C<strong>in</strong>e-i ăsta s¸i ce vrea?<br />
Dl. Badea: Po<strong>at</strong>e vrea averea mea…<br />
Alexandra: Nu-mi v<strong>in</strong>e să cred că gândit¸i as¸a!<br />
Se duce lângă Spike.<br />
Spike: Eu în vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă am învăt¸<strong>at</strong> / Că fericirea niciod<strong>at</strong>ă nu s-a cumpăr<strong>at</strong>!<br />
Maria: Îmi pare rău că nu te-am ascult<strong>at</strong>! / Chiar nu s¸tiam ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>. /<br />
Dar vreau să-t¸i spun că te iubesc!<br />
Spike: S¸i eu te iubesc!<br />
Spike s¸i Maria împreună: Promit că n-o să mai gres¸esc!<br />
Se sărută. Maria plânge.<br />
Spike [adresându-se d-lui Badea s¸i t¸<strong>in</strong>ând-o pe Maria de mână]:<br />
Ce-ai făcut, sper să regret¸i!<br />
To<strong>at</strong>e astea nu-s poves¸ti!<br />
E o lume crudă, pl<strong>in</strong>ă de oameni răi.<br />
D<strong>in</strong> păc<strong>at</strong>e, tu es¸ti unul d<strong>in</strong>tre ei!<br />
Dar măcar de sora mea m-am apropi<strong>at</strong>,<br />
După <strong>at</strong>âta timp, pot spune că sunt împăc<strong>at</strong>.<br />
387
S¸i… hai să ît¸i mai spun ceva:<br />
Prietenii mei au devenit familia mea!<br />
A venit timpul să plec, rămâi cu b<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Po<strong>at</strong>e acum nu o să mai uit¸i de m<strong>in</strong>e…<br />
Spike iese împreuna cu Maria s¸i Flori.<br />
388
Personaje<br />
Totul se pl<strong>at</strong>es¸te<br />
COORDONATORI<br />
prof. Georgeta Cristea, S¸coala nr. 1 «Spiru Haret»,<br />
S¸coala nr. 2 s¸i S¸coala nr. 6, Oltenit¸a;<br />
prof. Mar<strong>in</strong>a Ruse, Gr. S¸c. «Ion Ghica», Oltenit¸a<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Paraschiv Adrian Flor<strong>in</strong>, Velicu Daniel Cristian,<br />
S¸coala «Spiru Haret», Oltenit¸a<br />
Daniel: elev de 15 ani, s<strong>in</strong>gur acasă, păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii plec<strong>at</strong>¸i la muncă în Spania.<br />
Adrian: prieten cu Daniel, 17 ani, îmbrăc<strong>at</strong> modern.<br />
Paul: prieten cu Daniel, 17 ani, îmbrăc<strong>at</strong> modern.<br />
Andreea: prietenă cu cei trei băiet¸i, 16 ani, în t¸<strong>in</strong>ută provoc<strong>at</strong>oare.<br />
Profesorul de engleză: 45 ani, un tip sobru.<br />
Cristian: unchiul lui Daniel, fr<strong>at</strong>ele mamei acestuia, 38 ani, muncitor cu o<br />
slujbă grea, a term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong> liceul la seral.<br />
Polit¸is¸ti.<br />
Vec<strong>in</strong>a în vârstă, în t¸<strong>in</strong>ută de casă, cu bigudiurile pe cap.<br />
Sot¸ul vec<strong>in</strong>ei, tot în vârstă, t¸<strong>in</strong>ută de casă.<br />
SCENA I<br />
Acasă la Daniel, în sufragerie, unde se află o canapea, o măsut¸ă, un fotoliu, biroul,<br />
apar<strong>at</strong>ura muzicală s¸i alte obiecte s¸i decor<strong>at</strong>¸iuni specifice unei sufragerii modeste.<br />
Daniel <strong>in</strong>tră cu sacos¸ele cu pâ<strong>in</strong>e, lapte, detergent; le desface s¸i le as¸ează la locul lor.<br />
Deschide CD-playerul s¸i ascultă muzică în timp ce strânge rufele pentru spăl<strong>at</strong>. Face<br />
rapid ceva ord<strong>in</strong>e s¸i curăt¸enie în casă. Se as¸ează la birou s¸i studiază orarul, deschide<br />
389
manualele încercând să studieze, fără prea mare zel, pentru m<strong>at</strong>eriile la care nu are<br />
note. Sună telefonul mobil.<br />
Daniel: Salut, Adrian!<br />
Adrian: Ce faci, amice? Care e vi<strong>at</strong>¸a ta? Nu mai dai niciun semn!<br />
Daniel: Ce pot să spun?! Am fost cam ocup<strong>at</strong>, s¸tii că ai mei sunt plec<strong>at</strong>¸i!<br />
Adrian: Păi, asta e super, frăt¸ioare!<br />
Daniel: E s¸i nu e! Zi cu ce te pot ajuta!<br />
Adrian: Ce faci în acest moment?<br />
Daniel: Încercam să învăt¸ la engleză! Nu am note pentru că am mai lipsit s¸i<br />
profu’ nu a avut când să mă asculte.<br />
Adrian: Mai lasă-mă, fr<strong>at</strong>e, cu învăt¸<strong>at</strong>ul! Eu vreau să v<strong>in</strong> până la t<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
Daniel: Când?<br />
Adrian: Acum! Sunt în zonă!<br />
Daniel [se ridică de la birou, închide cărt¸ile]: B<strong>in</strong>e, v<strong>in</strong>o!<br />
Se aude soneria. Daniel merge s¸i deschide. Intră Adrian, însot¸it de Paul s¸i Andreea.<br />
Adrian, Paul, Andreea: Surprizaăă˘!!!<br />
Daniel: Salut![dă mâna cu fiecare d<strong>in</strong> ei] Chiar surpriză!<br />
Adrian: Am term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong> cursurile mai devreme s¸i aveam chef de ceva distract¸ie!<br />
Paul: S¸i adevărul e că nu ne-am mai văzut de două săptămâni…<br />
Andreea: Iar eu chiar voiam să văd unde stai.<br />
Daniel: Facet¸i-vă comozi! Aceasta e casa mea, dar parcă mi se pare prea mare pentru<br />
m<strong>in</strong>e de când au plec<strong>at</strong> ai mei. Nu e tocmai simplu să te ocupi de casă s¸i de t<strong>in</strong>e<br />
s<strong>in</strong>gur, însă încerc să fac f<strong>at</strong>¸ă. Mă mai ajută unchiul Daniel, fr<strong>at</strong>ele mamei.<br />
Andreea: Eu m-am cam plictisit de gospodărie de acum, des¸i doar o ajut pe<br />
mama! Visez să am menajeră s¸i să facă ea totul! Eu voi sta la coafor, la<br />
manichiură, la masaj s¸i mai ales la shopp<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
Paul: La m<strong>in</strong>e face bunica totul. Ai mei sunt plec<strong>at</strong>¸i la muncă to<strong>at</strong>ă ziua.<br />
Daniel: Mama s¸i t<strong>at</strong>a au plec<strong>at</strong> pentru că nu au avut de ales. Nu aveau unde să<br />
muncească aici. Au găsit doar slujbe temporare, cu bani foarte put¸<strong>in</strong>i. Eu am<br />
fost de acord cu decizia lor, pentru că as¸a pot să am s¸i eu ceea ce îmi doresc:<br />
telefon, laptop, ha<strong>in</strong>e super…<br />
Adrian: Mie mi-ar plăcea să fiu s<strong>in</strong>gur acasă, să fac ce vreau, să nu-i mai aud<br />
to<strong>at</strong>ă ziua cum mă b<strong>at</strong> la cap.<br />
Andreea: Parcă zicea c<strong>in</strong>eva ceva de distract¸ie!<br />
Paul [sco<strong>at</strong>e o sticlă de băutură s¸i un pachet de t¸igări]: Am lu<strong>at</strong> bani de la bunica,<br />
fi<strong>in</strong>dcă s¸tiu că nu observă… S¸i i<strong>at</strong>ă <strong>in</strong>gredientele distract¸iei!<br />
390
Adrian: Bravo! Des¸tept băi<strong>at</strong>! Daniel, ceva pahare…<br />
Daniel: Andreea, te rog să aduci tu paharele!<br />
Andreea [în timp ce merge după pahare]: Tu ocupă-te de muzică!<br />
Daniel dă muzica mai tare. Andreea pune paharele pe masă, Paul pune băutură s¸i<br />
fiecare d<strong>in</strong> cei trei musafiri îs¸i apr<strong>in</strong>d s¸i câte o t¸igară.<br />
Daniel: La noi în casă nu se fumează. Dacă ar vedea mama, ar fi vai de pielea mea!<br />
Adrian: Dar ai tăi nu s¸tiu că fumezi?<br />
Daniel: Păi, eu nu prea fumez! Am încerc<strong>at</strong> chiar să renunt¸ <strong>def</strong><strong>in</strong>itiv la asta.<br />
Paul: Fraier es¸ti! Ce po<strong>at</strong>e fi mai tare decât o băutură s¸i o t¸igară bună?<br />
Andreea [dansând, îi înt<strong>in</strong>de o t¸igară]: Hai, nu mai face pe sfântul! Ia s¸i tu o<br />
t¸igară!<br />
Daniel: Hai, fie!<br />
Adrian îi apr<strong>in</strong>de t¸igara. Tot¸i ciocnesc paharele: Noroc!<br />
Adrian: Mamma mia, ce bun e coniacul!<br />
Daniel: Eu voi bea doar put¸<strong>in</strong>, pentru că trebuie să ajung la s¸coală; cel put¸<strong>in</strong> la<br />
ora de engleză.<br />
Paul: Lasă, fr<strong>at</strong>e, s¸coala! Hai să o facem l<strong>at</strong>ă!<br />
Adrian: Te duci s¸i tu doar la engleză!<br />
Daniel: Oricum, deja trebuia să fiu la s¸coală! Dar am engleza peste două ore. O<br />
să ajung s¸i văd eu cum mă descurc.<br />
Andreea [dansând lasciv, provoacă băiet¸ii la dans]: Mai b<strong>in</strong>e să dansăm!<br />
Tot¸i dansează, fumează s¸i beau în acelas¸i timp. Atmosferă de petrecere. Când<br />
distract¸ia e în toi, <strong>in</strong>tră unchiul lui Daniel, cel care s-a angaj<strong>at</strong> că îl va supraveghea<br />
pe nepot cât sunt păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii plec<strong>at</strong>¸i. Cei p<strong>at</strong>ru se opresc d<strong>in</strong> dans încurc<strong>at</strong>¸i s¸i încearcă<br />
să ascundă paharele s¸i t¸igările, împrăs¸tie fumul cu mâ<strong>in</strong>ile.<br />
Cristian [ironic]: Nu vă deranj<strong>at</strong>¸i! Cont<strong>in</strong>u<strong>at</strong>¸i petrecerea!<br />
Daniel opres¸te muzica s¸i este jen<strong>at</strong> de aparit¸ia unchiului.<br />
Daniel: Să s¸tii că tocmai mă pregăteam să merg la s¸coală!<br />
Cristian: Te cred! Chiar am observ<strong>at</strong>! Apropo, cât e ceasul? Nu cumva trebuia<br />
să fii la s¸coală de o oră?<br />
Daniel: Păi…<br />
391
Cristian [către Daniel]: Niciun «păi»! Imedi<strong>at</strong> pleci la s¸coală! [către musafiri,<br />
împ<strong>in</strong>gându-i spre us¸ă] Distract¸ia s-a term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>! La revedere!<br />
Daniel: Să s¸tii că ei s-au <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong> la m<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
Cristian: S¸i tu ai fost as¸a de amabil încât ai accept<strong>at</strong>!<br />
Daniel: Sunt prietenii mei! Nu am voie să am prieteni?<br />
Cristian: Ai voie! Păc<strong>at</strong> că nu te pot felicita pentru calit<strong>at</strong>ea prietenilor pe care îi ai.<br />
Daniel: Ce vrei să spui?<br />
Cristian: Că repet¸i gres¸elile mele! Tot cu «ajutorul» prietenilor, nu am term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong><br />
s¸coala la timp s¸i am relu<strong>at</strong>-o la 30 de ani. Am fost nevoit să muncesc s¸i să îmi<br />
term<strong>in</strong> s¸i studiile în acelas¸i timp. Abia găseam de lucru, trebuia să accept orice<br />
s¸i pe bani put¸<strong>in</strong>i. S¸i to<strong>at</strong>e astea m-au făcut să stau prea put¸<strong>in</strong> timp cu familia<br />
mea, cu fiul meu. Crezi că a fost us¸or?<br />
Daniel [în timp ce îs¸i face ghiozdanul]: Mie nu mi se va întâmpla asta! Eu nu voi<br />
face ca t<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
Cristian: Azi ai făcut exact ca m<strong>in</strong>e acum 20 de ani!<br />
Daniel: S-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong> doar azi! Nu voi renunt¸a la s¸coală pentru prieteni!<br />
Cristian: Ai drept<strong>at</strong>e. Nu vei renunt¸a tu! Dar te-ai gândit că ar putea să renunt¸e<br />
s¸coala la t<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Daniel: Cum să renunt¸e s¸coala la m<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Cristian: Cu ajutorul tău s¸i al prietenilor! De exm<strong>at</strong>riculare ai auzit?<br />
Daniel: De ce să fiu exm<strong>at</strong>ricul<strong>at</strong>? Sunt exm<strong>at</strong>ricul<strong>at</strong>¸i doar cei cu probleme de<br />
discipl<strong>in</strong>ă.<br />
Cristian: S¸i cei cu absent¸e!<br />
Daniel: B<strong>in</strong>e, b<strong>in</strong>e, b<strong>in</strong>e… Merg la s¸coală s¸i fii sigur că nu voi repeta gres¸elile tale!<br />
Daniel pleacă la s¸coală.<br />
SCENA II<br />
La s¸coală, în pauză. Daniel e în pauză s¸i primes¸te un telefon de la Adrian.<br />
Adrian: Chiar ai de gând să stai la s¸coală? A plec<strong>at</strong> unchiul tău. Fii serios, că nu<br />
mai trece el pe la t<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
Daniel: S¸tiu s¸i eu…<br />
Adrian: Hai, bă fraiere, să term<strong>in</strong>ăm ce am început!<br />
Daniel: Unde suntet¸i?<br />
Adrian: Suntem la pizzeria d<strong>in</strong> colt¸. Te as¸teptăm! Nu spune nu!<br />
Daniel: Să văd ce pot să fac…<br />
392
Închide telefonul. Pe culoar, îl caută cu privirea pe profesorul de engleză, merge spre<br />
el s¸i îl abordează.<br />
Daniel [t¸<strong>in</strong>ându-se de falcă]: Domnule profesor, vă rog să mă învoit¸i de la lect¸ia<br />
de engleză pentru că am programare la dentist!<br />
Profesorul: S¸tii că azi d<strong>at</strong>¸i test s¸i tu nu prea ai note!<br />
Daniel: Da, s¸tiu, dar vedet¸i, e o problemă serioasă. Nu am dormit de două nopt¸i.<br />
Profesorul: Nu pari a fi obosit!<br />
Daniel [mimând durerea]: Vă jur că e un calvar durerea aceasta!<br />
Profesorul [priv<strong>in</strong>d suspicios]: B<strong>in</strong>e, mergi, dar e ultima oară când lipses¸ti de la<br />
engleză. Va trebui să te pregătes¸ti pentru că nu ai note s¸i trebuie să dai testele.<br />
Daniel: Vă mult¸umesc! Promit să nu mai lipsesc s¸i să-mi fac lect¸iile!<br />
Fuge, îs¸i ia rucsacul cu cărt¸i s¸i îl sună pe Adrian.<br />
Daniel: Adrian, s-a făcut! V<strong>in</strong> imedi<strong>at</strong>!<br />
SCENA III<br />
Acasă la Daniel, <strong>in</strong>tră cu tot¸ii pe us¸ă foarte veseli s¸i se as¸ează pe fotolii s¸i canapea.<br />
Daniel pregătes¸te paharele s¸i băutura e servită. Se apr<strong>in</strong>d t¸igările s¸i ciocnesc.<br />
Andreea: Dă muzica mai tare!<br />
Daniel: Cred că e suficient de tare. Am nis¸te vec<strong>in</strong>i cam nas¸pa. Sunt doi<br />
babalâci vizoris¸ti s¸i reclamagii.<br />
Paul: Da’ mai lasă-mă cu babalâcii tăi!<br />
Merge s¸i dă muzica mai tare. Atmosferă de petrecere cu dans, alcool s¸i t¸igări. La us¸ă<br />
b<strong>at</strong>e, disper<strong>at</strong>ă, vec<strong>in</strong>a. Insistă, dar nu primes¸te răspuns.<br />
Vec<strong>in</strong>a: Deschide, Daniel! Muzica asta mă înnebunes¸te! Vreau put¸<strong>in</strong>ă l<strong>in</strong>is¸te!<br />
Sot¸ul vec<strong>in</strong>ei [iese în hol s¸i e foarte enerv<strong>at</strong>]: T<strong>in</strong>erii d<strong>in</strong> ziua de azi! Nu mai s¸tiu<br />
ce e respectul! Îi învăt¸ eu m<strong>in</strong>te! Chem polit¸ia! (sună la polit¸ie) Alo! Vă rog<br />
să venit¸i în strada Stejarului, bloc A 20. E o petrecere care deranjează tot<br />
blocul, e un vacarm. Nu ne putem odihni.<br />
La us¸ă apar polit¸is¸tii care b<strong>at</strong> cu putere. În <strong>in</strong>terior se aude bătaia d<strong>in</strong> us¸ă. T<strong>in</strong>erii<br />
rămân surpr<strong>in</strong>s¸i. Daniel opres¸te muzica s¸i merge să deschidă.<br />
393
Daniel: Bună ziua! Cu ce vă pot ajuta?<br />
Politistul 1: Vrem să vorbim cu păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii tăi.<br />
Daniel: Nu sunt acasă.<br />
Politistul 2: Bună ziua! Sunt agent Corneliu de la Polit¸ia comunitară. Ceea ce<br />
<strong>at</strong>¸i făcut se numes¸te deranjarea l<strong>in</strong>is¸tii publice s¸i pentru asta primit¸i amendă<br />
100 euro. Numele dumneavoastră, vă rog.<br />
Daniel: Vă rog să înt¸eleget¸i, nu s-a mai întâmpl<strong>at</strong> niciod<strong>at</strong>ă.<br />
Politistul 1: Vrem să vorbim cu păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii tăi. Cum te numes¸ti?<br />
Daniel: Eu sunt Daniel Nicolescu. Păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii mei sunt plec<strong>at</strong>¸i la muncă în Spania.<br />
Politistul 2: De t<strong>in</strong>e c<strong>in</strong>e are grijă? Cu ce adult putem să luăm leg<strong>at</strong>ura?<br />
Daniel: Cu unchiul meu, Cristian Ionescu.<br />
Politistul 2: Ce număr de telefon are?<br />
Daniel: 0599.468.320.<br />
Politistul 1 [sună la Cristian]: Agent Popescu de la Polit¸ia comunitară. Vă<br />
solicităm să venit¸i la adresa d<strong>in</strong> strada Stejarului unde locuies¸te nepotul<br />
dumneavoastră, Daniel. Sunt ceva probleme.<br />
Unchiul ajunge în sufragerie s¸i este foarte surpr<strong>in</strong>s de ceea ce vede.<br />
Cristian: Ce se petrece?<br />
Politistul 1: Am fost solicit<strong>at</strong>¸i de loc<strong>at</strong>ari pentru faptul că în bloc era muzica<br />
d<strong>at</strong>ă foarte tare d<strong>in</strong> acest apartament.<br />
Cristian: Daniel, trebuia să fii la s¸coală! Ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Daniel prives¸te încurc<strong>at</strong> s¸i tace.<br />
Cristian [priv<strong>in</strong>d spre cei trei musafiri]: S¸i cu voi ce e aici? Eu v-am trimis la<br />
plimbare deja!<br />
Adrian, Paul, Andreea privesc în pământ.<br />
Politistul 2: Îi vom chema s¸i pe păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii lor la polit¸ie. Vor primi s¸i ei amendă<br />
pentru <strong>in</strong>stigare la tulburarea l<strong>in</strong>is¸tii publice. Cum vă numit¸i?<br />
Notează în agendă numele celor trei.<br />
Cristian: Sunt extrem de dezamăgit de felul în care te-ai comport<strong>at</strong>, Daniel. Ai<br />
chiulit de la s¸coală, m-ai m<strong>in</strong>t¸it, ai reus¸it să iei s¸i o amendă… As¸a grup de<br />
prieteni… Nu s¸tiu cum să vă «felicit» pe tot¸i!<br />
394
Polit¸is¸tii s¸i cei trei t<strong>in</strong>eri părăsesc casa lui Daniel. Acesta rămâne cu Cristian, care<br />
stă pe canapea.<br />
Cristian: Ce pot¸i să spui? Ce vor spune păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii tăi când vor afla despre amendă?<br />
Daniel: Îmi pare rău!<br />
Cristian: Mai pot avea încredere în t<strong>in</strong>e? «Merg la s¸coală s¸i fii sigur că nu voi<br />
repeta gres¸elile tale!».<br />
Daniel: Te rog să mă iert¸i! Îmi dau seama ce ispravă am făcut. Nici mama cu<br />
t<strong>at</strong>a nu vor fi îngăduitori cu m<strong>in</strong>e, chiar merit asta! Nu îmi vor mai trimite<br />
bani de buzunar.<br />
Cristian: Problema cea mai mare e că tu nu ît¸i asumi responsabilităt¸ile. Atitud<strong>in</strong>ea<br />
ta f<strong>at</strong>¸ă de s¸coală s¸i de viitorul tău e complet iresponsabilă. Crezi că vei face f<strong>at</strong>¸ă<br />
fără s¸coală?<br />
Daniel: S¸tiu că te-am dezamăgit, îmi pare rău! V-am dezamăgit pe tot¸i. Nu pot<br />
da v<strong>in</strong>a pe prietenii mei. Eu sunt de v<strong>in</strong>ă. Eu am făcut o alegere proastă. Daca<br />
as¸ fi st<strong>at</strong> la s¸coală, nimic d<strong>in</strong> to<strong>at</strong>e astea nu s-ar fi întâmpl<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Cristian: Totul se plătes¸te. Cu o amendă de 100 euro, dar s¸i altfel. Vei veni în<br />
fiecare zi să faci temele la noi s¸i voi comunica zilnic cu dirig<strong>in</strong>tele, pentru a<br />
verifica situ<strong>at</strong>¸ia ta s¸colară. S¸tiu că e neplăcut, dar m-ai oblig<strong>at</strong> să o fac s¸i o voi<br />
face până demonstrezi că ai înt¸eles care sunt responsabilităt¸ile tale! Apropo,<br />
<strong>in</strong>terzis la discotecă în weekend!<br />
Cristian pleacă s¸i Daniel stă în fotoliu s¸i spune:<br />
Daniel: Asta merit! Voi avea măcar timp pentru temele la engleza…<br />
395
Personajele<br />
Dest<strong>in</strong><br />
COORDONATOR<br />
prof. Florent<strong>in</strong>a Necula, S¸coala nr.6, Oltenit¸a<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Dumitru Cociu, Marian Salim, S¸coala nr.6, Oltenit¸a<br />
Mirela, elevă.<br />
Bunica Mirelei.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl Mirelei.<br />
Mama vitregă a Mirelei.<br />
Mama n<strong>at</strong>urală a Mirelei.<br />
Nicu, Maria, fr<strong>at</strong>¸ii mai mici ai Mirelei.<br />
Colegi de s¸coală ai Mirelei.<br />
O profesoară a Mirelei.<br />
SCENA I<br />
Acasă, într-o cameră, Mirela îs¸i face temele la masă. Într-un colt¸ cei doi fr<strong>at</strong>¸i mai<br />
mici ai Mirelei se joacă cu nis¸te jucării vechi. Intră bunica Mirelei, mergând cu<br />
dificult<strong>at</strong>e, cu un teanc de rufe s¸i cu fierul de călc<strong>at</strong> în br<strong>at</strong>¸e.<br />
Bunica: Ce faci, Mirela, maică?<br />
Mirela: Imi fac tema la m<strong>at</strong>em<strong>at</strong>ică. Mâ<strong>in</strong>e avem lucrare s¸i mi-a spus doamna<br />
că, dacă am to<strong>at</strong>e temele făcute, îmi dă un punct în plus dacă îmi fac tema.<br />
396
Mă ch<strong>in</strong>uiesc cu un afurisit de exercit¸iu. Bunico, dar tu ce faci cu rufele alea?<br />
[se ridică, ia rufele s¸i le pune pe p<strong>at</strong>] Lasă-le, că le calc eu mai încolo. Tu,<br />
odihnes¸te-te, s¸tii că nu te-ai simt¸it prea b<strong>in</strong>e zilele astea.<br />
Bunica: Nu, le calc eu. Ai făcut destule azi, ai făcut mâncare, ai spăl<strong>at</strong> pentru ăs¸tia<br />
mici, ai d<strong>at</strong> cu mătura în bucătărie… Lasă, fă-t¸i tema, să nu se supere doamna.<br />
Mirela: S¸i c<strong>in</strong>e voiai să le facă? M<strong>at</strong>a es¸ti bătrână s¸i bolnavă. S¸i proasta aia de<br />
Margareta stă to<strong>at</strong>ă ziua la cers¸it. De t<strong>at</strong>a, ca să mai zic?<br />
Bunica: Ce să facă? N-avem bani. Face s¸i ea ce po<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Mirela [se întoarce la masă bombăn<strong>in</strong>d]: N-avem bani, n-avem bani. S¸tiu eu ce<br />
face cu banii. Mai b<strong>in</strong>e ar sta acasă s¸i-ar face treabă. Da’ îi e lene s¸i să vadă de<br />
copiii ei [se apucă să scrie].<br />
Intră t<strong>at</strong>ăl Mirelei clăt<strong>in</strong>ându-se us¸or, cu o sticlă în mână.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl: Ce facet¸i aici? [se trântes¸te pe scaun]. Iar scrii? [aruncă de pe masă cărt¸ile s¸i<br />
caietele Mirelei s¸i face semn către burtă] Alemanda, has mimis! Mie să-mi aduci<br />
mâncare, nu să scrii! De ce învet¸i, proasto? Că tot proastă rămâi! Eu n-am<br />
nevoie să te faci doamnă cu s¸coală. Să s¸tii să faci mâncare, să speli, să calci, să<br />
faci copii s¸i să ascult¸i de bărb<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Mirela [îs¸i adună cărt¸ile s¸i caietele de pe jos]: Ba eu vreau să mă duc la s¸coală. S¸i o<br />
să mă duc! Nu vreau să ajung ca t<strong>in</strong>e s¸i ca nevastă-ta, muritori de foame. O să<br />
term<strong>in</strong> s¸coala s¸i o să mă angajez undeva. Nimeni nu te angajează fără s¸coală.<br />
Bunica: Lasă f<strong>at</strong>a în pace! Trebuie să meargă s¸i la s¸coală. O să aibă timp să se<br />
mărite s¸i să facă copii. S¸i sper să aibă noroc de un bărb<strong>at</strong> mai de soi decât t<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Stai la birt to<strong>at</strong>ă ziua în loc să-t¸i găses¸ti ceva de muncă.<br />
T<strong>at</strong>ăl [pe un ton amen<strong>in</strong>t¸ător]: Să taci! [către Mirela] Hai, adu-mi de mâncare,<br />
că te rup în bătaie!<br />
SCENA II<br />
Într-o sală de clasă. S-a sun<strong>at</strong> de <strong>in</strong>trare. Tot¸i elevii sunt în bănci. Apare Mirela în<br />
fugă. Ajunge la bancă s¸i cotrobăie pr<strong>in</strong> ghiozdan.<br />
Bogdan (un coleg): Mirela, iar ai venit târziu. Dacă mai întârziai put¸<strong>in</strong>, ajungea<br />
profa îna<strong>in</strong>tea ta s¸i iar primeai absent¸ă.<br />
Mirela [nu-l bagă în seamă, cotrobăie în cont<strong>in</strong>uare]: Of, unde este?<br />
O colegă: Ce caut¸i? Uite, cărt¸ile s¸i caietele sunt pe masă! Ai nevoie de un pix?<br />
Ît¸i dau eu unul.<br />
397
Mirela: Nu, n-am nevoie de pix. Nu-mi găsesc proiectul la română.<br />
Bogdan: Ba eu cred că nu l-ai făcut s¸i acum vrei să ne faci pe noi să credem că<br />
l-ai pierdut.<br />
Mirela [furioasă]: Ba nu-i adevăr<strong>at</strong>! L-am făcut! Ce, crezi că sunt m<strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>oasă?<br />
Bogdan: S¸i săptămâna trecută ai zis că t¸i-ai făcut tema, dar de fapt n-ai făcut-o.<br />
Colega: Bogdane, las-o în pace! S¸i-a făcut tema, dar n-a scris to<strong>at</strong>e exercit¸iile. A<br />
scris s¸i ea ce a putut. S¸tii b<strong>in</strong>e că are probleme. S¸i, în afară de asta, profa nu sa<br />
supăr<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Mirela [căutând în cont<strong>in</strong>uare în ghiozdan]: Nu-l găsesc. Cred că l-am uit<strong>at</strong><br />
acasă. [către colegi] Dar sigur l-am făcut!<br />
Bogdan: Da, da, sigur l-ai făcut!<br />
Alt coleg: Bogdane, ai face b<strong>in</strong>e s-o las¸i în pace. Spre deosebire de t<strong>in</strong>e, pe ea nu<br />
prea are c<strong>in</strong>e să o ajute. Ei nu i-au cumpăr<strong>at</strong> păr<strong>in</strong>t¸ii calcul<strong>at</strong>or de ultimă<br />
gener<strong>at</strong>¸ie, imprimantă laser, i-pad sau…<br />
Intră profesoara de română.<br />
Profesoara: Bună ziua! [se as¸ează la c<strong>at</strong>edră s¸i deschide c<strong>at</strong>alogul] Lipses¸te c<strong>in</strong>eva azi?<br />
Elevii: Nu.<br />
Bogdan [destul de tare, dar nu cât să fie auzit de profesoară]: Dar era cât p-aci să<br />
lipsească Mirela [cât¸iva elevi râd pe înfund<strong>at</strong>e, alt¸ii se uită cu repros¸ la el].<br />
Profesoara: S¸tit¸i că azi trebuie să aducet¸i proiectele. Cred că <strong>at</strong>¸i avut timp<br />
suficient să le facet¸i.<br />
Mirela: Doamna profesoară, eu nu am proiectul. Cred că l-am uit<strong>at</strong> acasă. Dar<br />
l-am făcut.<br />
Profesoara: Es¸ti sigură? S-a mai întâmpl<strong>at</strong> să nu-t¸i faci temele la timp.<br />
Mirela: As¸a e. Dar până la urmă le-am făcut. S¸i proiectul l-am făcut. Am găsit<br />
s¸i imag<strong>in</strong>i. S¸i mi l-au pr<strong>in</strong>t<strong>at</strong> doamnele de la librărie. S¸tit¸i că le mai ajut la<br />
curăt¸enie acolo. S¸i în loc să-mi dea bani, m-au ajut<strong>at</strong> cu proiectul. Îl aduc<br />
d<strong>at</strong>a viitoare. Sau, dacă vret¸i, mă duc acum acasă să-l aduc.<br />
Profesoara: Nu pot¸i să lipses¸ti de la oră. Îl vei aduce ora următoare. Dar ai grijă<br />
să nu se mai întâmple. [către elevi] Deschidet¸i cărt¸ile la pag<strong>in</strong>a 54, vă rog!<br />
SCENA III<br />
Acasă la Mirela. Bunica stă în p<strong>at</strong>. Intră Mirela bucuroasă.<br />
Mirela: Sărut-mâna! Bunico, am lu<strong>at</strong> 6 la m<strong>at</strong>e. De fapt, luasem 5, dar profa<br />
mi-a verific<strong>at</strong> temele s¸i mi-a zis că îmi dă… Bunico, ce-ai păt¸it?<br />
398
Bunica: Mi-e tare rău. Nici nu pot să mă ridic d<strong>in</strong> p<strong>at</strong>. Adu-mi o cană cu apă!<br />
Mirela [îi aduce apă]: De când t¸i-e rău? Nu a st<strong>at</strong> nimeni cu dumne<strong>at</strong>a? Nu e<br />
nimeni acasă?<br />
Bunica: Margareta e plec<strong>at</strong>ă la cers¸it s¸i taică-tău m-a văzut s¸i a zis să stau în p<strong>at</strong>,<br />
că-mi trece. S¸i a plec<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Mirela: S¸i ăs¸tia mici? Erau în curte când am plec<strong>at</strong> eu la s¸coală.<br />
Bunica: S-or fi dus la vec<strong>in</strong>a să se joace cu copiii ei.<br />
Mirela: Bunico, te duc la spital!<br />
Bunica: Lasă, mamă, că mai stau în p<strong>at</strong>, po<strong>at</strong>e îmi trece. Ce să fac la spital? Sunt<br />
prea bătrână. S¸i dacă merg la spital, tu o să lipses¸ti de la s¸coală ca să ai grijă<br />
de m<strong>in</strong>e, as¸a cum ai făcut d<strong>at</strong>a trecută.<br />
Mirela: N-o să se întâmple nimic dacă lipsesc o zi-două. Doamna dirig<strong>in</strong>tă o să<br />
mă înt¸eleagă dacă îi spun că am st<strong>at</strong> cu t<strong>in</strong>e în spital. Numai dacă lipsesc fără<br />
motiv se supără. S¸i dacă se întâmplă ceva cu t<strong>in</strong>e, ce mă fac eu? C<strong>in</strong>e o să aibă<br />
grijă de m<strong>in</strong>e? Mama m-a părăsit. T<strong>at</strong>a o să mă vândă cu prima ocazie s¸i o să<br />
spună că e spre b<strong>in</strong>ele meu să mă mărit. Vrea să scape de m<strong>in</strong>e s¸i să mai capete<br />
nis¸te bani. S¸i Margareta nu e în stare să aibă grijă de copiii ei, darămite de<br />
m<strong>in</strong>e. Tu es¸ti s¸i mama mea s¸i t<strong>at</strong>ăl meu, bunico. Sun la salvare.<br />
SCENA IV<br />
Într-o sală de clasă, în pauză.<br />
O colegă: De unde vii?<br />
Altă colegă: M-a chem<strong>at</strong> diriga la cancelarie. Vrea să s¸tie ce se întâmplă cu<br />
Mirela. S¸tii că n-a mai venit a s¸coală de câteva zile. I-am spus că nu s¸tiu<br />
nimic. N-a anunt¸<strong>at</strong>. O fi păt¸it ceva? Tu ce s¸tii de ea?<br />
Prima colegă: Nici eu nu s¸tiu nimic. Po<strong>at</strong>e s-a plictisit de s¸coală s¸i nu mai vrea<br />
să v<strong>in</strong>ă. Sau po<strong>at</strong>e au mărit<strong>at</strong>-o ai ei. S¸tii că la ei în comunit<strong>at</strong>e e ceva normal<br />
să nu le mai lase la s¸coală s¸i să le mărite pe bani buni.<br />
A doua colegă: Da, as¸a e, dar nu cred că e cazul ei. S¸tii cum e Mirela. Ea n-o<br />
să se lase vândută de t<strong>at</strong>ăl ei cu una cu două.<br />
Prima colegă: Sau po<strong>at</strong>e s-a hotărât, în sfârs¸it, să plece la mama ei. La mama ei<br />
n<strong>at</strong>urală, vreau să spun. Am auzit că nu locuies¸te prea departe.<br />
A doua colegă: Să se ducă la ea după ce a fost părăsită? Nu prea cred. S¸i, în afară<br />
de asta, ea chiar vrea să v<strong>in</strong>ă la s¸coală.<br />
Prima colegă: Nu se prea descurcă la s¸coală. Era cât p-aici să rămână corigentă<br />
la m<strong>at</strong>e semestrul trecut.<br />
399
A doua colegă: Dragă, nu o mai compara pe Mirela cu t<strong>in</strong>e. Normal că n-are cum<br />
să ia nouă s¸i zece. Dar a trecut clasa. Se străduies¸te să-s¸i scrie temele, <strong>at</strong>ât cât<br />
po<strong>at</strong>e, îs¸i face s¸i proiectele. A reus¸it să ia un 6 la m<strong>at</strong>e. S¸i important e faptul că<br />
v<strong>in</strong>e la s¸coală. Câte fete de vârsta ei d<strong>in</strong> comunit<strong>at</strong>ea lor mai v<strong>in</strong> încă la s¸coală?<br />
Prima colegă: Ai drept<strong>at</strong>e. Dar dacă n-o ajutai tu s¸i Maria s¸i alt¸ii, s¸i profii, nu<br />
trecea clasa. S¸i uite, acum nu mai v<strong>in</strong>e la s¸coală.<br />
A doua colegă: Sigur s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong> ceva. [<strong>in</strong>tră Mirela, se as¸ează în bancă obosită]<br />
Mirela, ce faci? Ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>? Ai lipsit mult de la s¸coală!<br />
Prima colegă: Credeam că te-ai plictisit s¸i nu mai vrei să vii.<br />
Mirela: Am st<strong>at</strong> cu bunica în spital trei zile. A fost foarte bolnavă.<br />
A doua colegă [spre prima colegă]: T¸i-am spus eu. [către Mirela] S¸i acum ce face?<br />
Se simte mai b<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Mirela: Da, nu mai este în spital. Dar n-am putut să v<strong>in</strong> imedi<strong>at</strong> la s¸coală<br />
pentru că am fost să muncesc. Aveam nevoie de bani de medicamente. S¸i ceam<br />
găsit acasă…<br />
A doua colegă: Să vorbes¸ti cu doamna dirig<strong>in</strong>tă! Să-i spui ce s-a întâmpl<strong>at</strong>!<br />
Lumea crede că nu mai vrei să vii la s¸coală.<br />
Mirela: Da, o să mă duc chiar acum.<br />
SCENA VI<br />
Acasă la Mirela. Bunica face mâncare. Intră mama n<strong>at</strong>urală a Mirelei.<br />
Bunica [surpr<strong>in</strong>să]: Ce caut¸i tu aici?<br />
Mama: Am venit să-mi văd f<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Bunica: M<strong>in</strong>t¸i! Dacă voiai să-t¸i vezi f<strong>at</strong>a, veneai de mult. Cum te-a răbd<strong>at</strong> <strong>in</strong>ima<br />
să o las¸i s¸i să pleci?<br />
Mama: Asta nu e treaba ta.<br />
Bunica: Mirela nu mai e f<strong>at</strong>a ta, e f<strong>at</strong>a mea. Eu am avut grijă de ea s¸i acum ea<br />
mă ajută pe m<strong>in</strong>e. Nu te las să mi-o iei, să s¸tii.<br />
Intră Mirela cu un cos¸ de rufe usc<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Mirela: Bunico, avem musafiri?<br />
Mama: Ce f<strong>at</strong>ă frumoasă te-ai făcut! S¸i harnică. Mirela, eu sunt mama ta.<br />
Mirela: Da? S¸i până acum unde ai fost? De ce m-ai părăsit?<br />
Mama: Nu te-am părăsit. Dar n-am mai putut suporta să stau cu taică-tău. A<br />
trebuit să plec. S¸i acum trăiesc b<strong>in</strong>e. S¸i, uite, acum am venit să te iau acasă.<br />
400
Mirela: Dar eu am casa mea. O am pe bunica. Tu m-ai părăsit.<br />
Mama: Nu te-am părăsit. Am venit să te iau la m<strong>in</strong>e ca să ai o vi<strong>at</strong>¸ă mai bună.<br />
Ce faci tu în cocioaba asta? Speli, calci, faci mâncare? Uite cu ce es¸ti îmbrăc<strong>at</strong>ă!<br />
Bunica: Nu, nu, lasă f<strong>at</strong>a! Nu se duce nicăieri cu t<strong>in</strong>e, auzi? Nicăieri. F<strong>at</strong>a mea<br />
stă aici.<br />
Mama: Mirela, hai cu mama! O să-t¸i cumpăr ha<strong>in</strong>e frumoase, de firmă, o să te<br />
duc la coafor, o să stai într-o casă mare s¸i frumoasă. Nu mai trebuie să faci<br />
treabă s¸i să ai grijă de alt¸ii.<br />
Mirela [se gândes¸te]: S¸i cu s¸coala cum rămâne? Eu vreau să term<strong>in</strong> s¸coala. Vreau<br />
să-mi iau serviciu.<br />
Mama: Nici n-o să ai nevoie de serviciu. O să ai tot ce-t¸i trebuie. S¸i cu s¸coala,<br />
dacă vrei tu, o să te duci s¸i la s¸coală, dar nu la s¸coala asta.<br />
Bunica: Mirela, m<strong>in</strong>te! Vrea să te mărite pe bani. Nu o crede!<br />
Mama: Ba nu-i adevăr<strong>at</strong>. Vreau să stai cu m<strong>in</strong>e. Am fost <strong>at</strong>âta timp despărt¸ite.<br />
O să ai tot ce vrea <strong>in</strong>imioara ta!<br />
Bunica: Mirela, nu pleca! Pe m<strong>in</strong>e cui mă las¸i? Ce mă fac eu fără t<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Mirela [stă pe gânduri]: Bunico, nu te las! Dar as¸ vrea să am s¸i eu ha<strong>in</strong>e frumoase<br />
s¸i să nu mai trebuiască să fac treabă în casă. Vreau să văd s¸i eu cum este să stai<br />
într-o casă mare. Bunico, am să v<strong>in</strong> să te văd des. Mamă, îmi promit¸i că o să<br />
o ajutăm pe bunica de aici încolo? Dacă îmi promit¸i, o să merg cu t<strong>in</strong>e. Îmi<br />
promit¸i?<br />
Mama: Sigur, f<strong>at</strong>a mamei. Uite, îi las nis¸te bani, să aibă cu ce cumpăra mâncare.<br />
Bunica: Mirela, o să-t¸i pară rău. Nu pleca!<br />
Mirela: Hai bunico, nu te mai gândi numai la rele. O să v<strong>in</strong> să te văd foarte des.<br />
[îs¸i sărută bunica s¸i iese împreună cu mama].<br />
SCENA VII<br />
Într-o cameră necunoscută. Mirela stă la masă s¸i scrie o scrisoare.<br />
Mirela: «Dragă mamă, sper ca <strong>at</strong>unci când o să cites¸ti această scrisoare să simt¸i s¸i<br />
tu ce simt eu acum. Am avut încredere în t<strong>in</strong>e. Mă s¸i vedeam la t<strong>in</strong>e acasă,<br />
îmbrăc<strong>at</strong>ă în ha<strong>in</strong>e bune, cu mâncare bună pe masă, fără griji, înconjur<strong>at</strong>ă de<br />
dragostea pe care mi-ai promis-o. S¸i tu ce-ai făcut? M-ai vândut pe 1000 de<br />
euro! După ce că m-ai lăs<strong>at</strong> când eram mică în spital, acum mă dai după<br />
oric<strong>in</strong>e care-t¸i dă nis¸te bani? S¸i pentru ce? Ca să spăl, să calc, să fac cur<strong>at</strong> s¸i să<br />
fac mâncare pentru unul care nu e niciod<strong>at</strong>ă mult¸umit? Măcar acasă făceam<br />
401
402<br />
lucrurile astea pentru ai mei, nu pentru stră<strong>in</strong>i. N-ar fi trebuit să te ascult.<br />
Trebuia să-mi dau seama că tot ce ai spus sunt numai m<strong>in</strong>ciuni. Trebuia sămi<br />
dau seama că nu are de ce să-t¸i pese de m<strong>in</strong>e. Ce-t¸i pasă t¸ie că eu n-am voie<br />
să o văd pe bunica? Ce-t¸i pasă t¸ie că, dacă am curajul să le spun ce cred s¸i ce<br />
vreau, tot ce primesc este numai bătaie? Ce-t¸i pasă t¸ie că ei nu-mi dau voie să<br />
merg la s¸coală? De ce să-t¸i pese? Ai bani acum. Pentru t<strong>in</strong>e nu contează că miai<br />
distrus mie vi<strong>at</strong>¸a pentru banii ăs¸tia. Es¸ti mult¸umită? Mirela».
Introduction<br />
Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re <strong>in</strong> Romania allowed the persons <strong>in</strong>volved hav<strong>in</strong>g a personal<br />
and professional experience focused on cre<strong>at</strong>ivity and opened to realities by means<br />
of writ<strong>in</strong>g the<strong>at</strong>re for social <strong>in</strong>clusion. The project’s participants - teachers, NGO’s<br />
represent<strong>at</strong>ives, students or young deal<strong>in</strong>g with <strong>school</strong> abandon - were able to experiment<br />
with roles hardly accessible or difficult to be managed <strong>in</strong> every day life<br />
and to accept our proposition of «play<strong>in</strong>g» <strong>in</strong> a very serious way with the <strong>school</strong><br />
abandon theme, issues rel<strong>at</strong>ed to it, social, educ<strong>at</strong>ional and cultural context, suggestions<br />
on how to deal with, <strong>in</strong> this way becom<strong>in</strong>g an experience th<strong>at</strong> allowed all<br />
to try out new perspectives, new roles and to act. The added value of this project<br />
is rel<strong>at</strong>ed to the fact th<strong>at</strong> it presents and enables the practitioners work<strong>in</strong>g with<br />
young a method and <strong>in</strong>struments no very often used <strong>in</strong> our country.<br />
The practitioners <strong>in</strong>volved had the chance to be part of some tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g activities<br />
held by drama practitioners and to experiment the contents learned with the<br />
young. So, as a result, there were written ten scripts th<strong>at</strong> are <strong>in</strong>cluded <strong>in</strong> this public<strong>at</strong>ion,<br />
and th<strong>at</strong> above all have cre<strong>at</strong>ed enthusiasm among all <strong>in</strong>volved.<br />
403
Characters<br />
We are wh<strong>at</strong> we decide to be<br />
COORDINATORS<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a Nit¸u – teacher, T<strong>at</strong>iana Păduraru – teacher,<br />
«Octav Onicescu» N<strong>at</strong>ional College – Bucharest<br />
CO-AUTHORS<br />
Ten students form grade 10 D 1 ,<br />
«Octav Onicescu» N<strong>at</strong>ional College – Bucharest<br />
Bianca.<br />
Sonia.<br />
Ana, a good classm<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Mother, Mrs. Ionescu.<br />
Bianca’s sister, Al<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a Popescu’s husband.<br />
The teacher, Prodan Vicent¸iu.<br />
Sonia’s grandf<strong>at</strong>her, Mavrocordan.<br />
SCENE I<br />
Act I<br />
Stroll<strong>in</strong>g around, Sonia and Bianca are talk<strong>in</strong>g about their families.<br />
Sonia: Hi, girl!<br />
Bianca: Hi, girl!<br />
Sonia: Wh<strong>at</strong> are we go<strong>in</strong>g to do today?!<br />
404
Bianca: As usual, we aren’t go<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>school</strong>, we’re go<strong>in</strong>g to the park, as mum is<br />
away, and she knows noth<strong>in</strong>g about me. My sis is busy with her kid, <strong>at</strong> work;<br />
my brother <strong>in</strong> law knows noth<strong>in</strong>g else but to dr<strong>in</strong>k … So I can do wh<strong>at</strong>ever I<br />
want.<br />
Sonia: Wh<strong>at</strong> shall I say about me, my grandpa th<strong>in</strong>ks I’m an A student after all<br />
I’ve told him. Let’s go to the park, maybe we meet those guys from yesterday<br />
who gave us cigarettes and booze … We’ll have some fun.<br />
Bianca: Come on, girl, you’ve told him you’re an A student? Th<strong>at</strong> be<strong>at</strong>s all, me<br />
too; th<strong>at</strong>’s why we are best friends, we know how to get on well.<br />
Sonia: Of course, or else he wouldn’t have given me any money.<br />
Stage <strong>in</strong>structions: Bianca takes out her lipstick, the eye shadows, the mirror…<br />
Sonia: Give me some, girl! I look horrible. My grandpa didn’t let me put any<br />
more make up, he sent me to <strong>school</strong> like this. He says <strong>in</strong> his early days there<br />
were no face pa<strong>in</strong>ts like these.<br />
SCENE II<br />
They meet their classm<strong>at</strong>e, whom <strong>at</strong> first they do not recognize.<br />
Bianca: Hey, look <strong>at</strong> th<strong>at</strong>! Why is she star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> us?<br />
Sonia: Maybe she was with us, yesterday <strong>in</strong> the park.<br />
Bianca: I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k so, girl, don’t you see wh<strong>at</strong> a nerd face she has? Phew…<br />
Stage <strong>in</strong>struction: Ana comes nearer to her classm<strong>at</strong>es.<br />
Ana: Hi, girls!<br />
Bianca: Come with us for a smoke, like yesterday!<br />
Ana: Wh<strong>at</strong> smoke, wh<strong>at</strong> yesterday? I was <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>, <strong>at</strong> classes. You haven’t come<br />
for almost a whole semester.<br />
Sonia: It doesn’t m<strong>at</strong>ter, we’ll pass anyway, my grandpa has money… and for<br />
sav<strong>in</strong>g his face he will pay to pass me the class.<br />
Bianca: And mum will send presents to teachers… Maybe some money too…<br />
I’ll talk her off somehow…<br />
Ana: The teacher, Mr. Prodan, said he wouldn’t pass you the class without the<br />
exam.<br />
405
Sonia: And when is this exam?<br />
Ana: Today!<br />
Bianca: We have exam today??? So quickly did a semester go by? If we come, you<br />
have to help us! We only need a 5 2 … Come on, we’ll talk with our m<strong>at</strong>es and<br />
nobody will bully you anymore.<br />
Ana: All right, I’ll help you, but see how you’ll do so I don’t get 1 3 or other small<br />
grade…<br />
SCENE III<br />
The three girls arrive <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>; they sit down <strong>at</strong> their desks. Plans are made for the exam.<br />
The teacher enters the classroom.<br />
The teacher: Good afternoon!<br />
He checks the <strong>at</strong>tendance list, ask<strong>in</strong>g the student on duty who is miss<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
The teacher: Nobody’s absent today?<br />
Ana [student on duty]: Yes, nobody.<br />
The teacher: Ms. Bianca and Ms. Sonia have also come?<br />
Bianca and Sonia [together]: But we’ve always been here.<br />
Ana: Hush… he’s nervous! He’ll give us a harder test and on numbers 4 .<br />
The teacher: All right, we won’t have any exam today; the two girls who have<br />
come every day should get to the blackboard.<br />
Bianca: See, if you were quiet, we’d have had exam and get away with it.<br />
Sonia: You should have been quiet!<br />
The headmaster: Get to the blackboard without any talk<strong>in</strong>g! Solve this exercise:<br />
2a+2=2!<br />
The girls go to the blackboard and marvel how difficult the exercise is.<br />
Bianca: But we haven’t learnt someth<strong>in</strong>g like this.<br />
The headmaster: No, of course, we learnt them <strong>at</strong> the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g of the semester<br />
and now it’s the end of it.<br />
406
SCENE IV<br />
Bianca’s mother enters together with Bianca’s sister and her brother <strong>in</strong> law.<br />
Mother: Good afternoon, teacher! I’m Bianca’s mother and I’ve come to see her<br />
educ<strong>at</strong>ion situ<strong>at</strong>ion. Excuse me for <strong>in</strong>terrupt<strong>in</strong>g the class, but Bianca tells me<br />
she has no problems, th<strong>at</strong> she is even an A student, while her sister and brother<br />
<strong>in</strong> law are tell<strong>in</strong>g me the opposite.<br />
The teacher: I’ll show you immedi<strong>at</strong>ely the situ<strong>at</strong>ion from the c<strong>at</strong>alogue. She<br />
doesn’t have grades, but plenty of absences. And I’ve just asked her to solve…<br />
a simple exercise, for the 5th grade while she is the 10th grade. And she didn’t<br />
know how to solve it. I’m almost sure she won’t pass the class.<br />
Mother [asks Bianca to come nearer]: Bianca wh<strong>at</strong> have you told me and wh<strong>at</strong> is<br />
this here?<br />
Bianca: Well, mum, I couldn’t just tell you the naked truth or you wouldn’t<br />
have given me any money, but there are more th<strong>in</strong>gs… Ask also Al<strong>in</strong>a…<br />
When I wanted to do my lessons she made me take care of the baby.<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a: Mother, this is not true, I was just ask<strong>in</strong>g her when com<strong>in</strong>g from high<strong>school</strong><br />
to buy some bread and a 2 litre bottle of still w<strong>at</strong>er, as she dr<strong>in</strong>ks only<br />
this. Never has she given me the change back, but I let it aside as I didn’t want<br />
her say I didn’t give her this <strong>at</strong> least…<br />
Bianca: Well, she wouldn’t give me money not even for a juice. I had to do<br />
someth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Mother: Wh<strong>at</strong> about the money I’ve sent?<br />
Bianca: David, my brother-<strong>in</strong>-law, took them; for booze.<br />
The brother-<strong>in</strong>-law: You gave them to me so I didn’t tell your mum, didn’t you…<br />
about how I caught you <strong>in</strong> the park!<br />
Bianca: And wh<strong>at</strong> were you do<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> the park <strong>at</strong> th<strong>at</strong> hour?<br />
The brother-<strong>in</strong>-law: I was go<strong>in</strong>g to get myself employed.<br />
Bianca: Come on, you were go<strong>in</strong>g to the pub with your punks.<br />
The brother-<strong>in</strong>-law: It’s not true; a friend told me he has one more job… Wh<strong>at</strong><br />
was I supposed to do?!<br />
Mother: Th<strong>at</strong>’s enough! I’ve got it.<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a: Mother, neither I knew this whole story, I thought David was tak<strong>in</strong>g her<br />
to <strong>school</strong>, and not th<strong>at</strong> they’ve met <strong>in</strong> parks…<br />
Sonia: But wh<strong>at</strong>’s wrong about go<strong>in</strong>g to the park?! And she wasn’t alone, she was<br />
with me, you don’t have to worry so much. She’s on good hands.<br />
The teacher: As you can see none of them knows anyth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Mother [towards Sonia]: And who are you?<br />
407
Al<strong>in</strong>a: As if we care who you are.<br />
They speak simultaneously.<br />
David: Yes, she was also <strong>in</strong> the park.<br />
The teacher: With all this noise we’ll f<strong>in</strong>d the headmaster <strong>at</strong> the door…<br />
Everybody gets quiet.<br />
SCENE V<br />
Somebody knocks on the door. No, it’s not the headmaster… It’s an elf th<strong>at</strong> transforms<br />
entirely the characters…<br />
The characters<br />
Mrs. Dogaru, the teacher.<br />
Ema’s mother Ir<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Sergiu.<br />
The waiter.<br />
Sergiu’s f<strong>at</strong>her, the moralist.<br />
Ema.<br />
SCENE I<br />
Act II<br />
Ema, Ir<strong>in</strong>a and Sergiu are <strong>in</strong> the park on a bench and plan skipp<strong>in</strong>g class and go<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to a bar.<br />
Ema: Wh<strong>at</strong> are we do<strong>in</strong>g today, are we go<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>school</strong>?<br />
Sergiu: To <strong>school</strong>!? Wh<strong>at</strong>’s wrong with you? There’s plenty of time till the end<br />
of the semester when we have the f<strong>in</strong>al grade averages…<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: We do as usual, we tell teachers either we were sick, or th<strong>at</strong> our folks have<br />
some problems, blah, blah… Just to impress them and get a 5.<br />
Ema: So, we are go<strong>in</strong>g to the bar… Hurray! Th<strong>at</strong>’s how I want you!<br />
408
SCENE II<br />
At the bar.<br />
Sergiu: So, girls, wh<strong>at</strong> are we dr<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Ema: Pepsi Cola.<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Lemonade.<br />
Sergiu: Wh<strong>at</strong>’s wrong with you? Aren’t you dr<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g anyth<strong>in</strong>g else? I’ll try someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
stronger: g<strong>in</strong> and tonic.<br />
Ema: With wh<strong>at</strong> money? Mother doesn’t give me anymore, she asked me to<br />
show her the grades… And she also thre<strong>at</strong>ens me she’ll come to <strong>school</strong>. I don’t<br />
even know wh<strong>at</strong> to tell her so she wouldn’t come.<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: It’s almost the same th<strong>in</strong>g with me.<br />
Sergiu: Nobody <strong>in</strong>quires about me, as they don’t have time, they have two jobs,<br />
they come home dead-be<strong>at</strong>… I’m not go<strong>in</strong>g to trouble them with my problems.<br />
Sergiu: Waiter, are you tak<strong>in</strong>g our order? We are wast<strong>in</strong>g time… here.<br />
Waiter: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you want to order?<br />
Sergiu: A Pepsi, a lemonade and a g<strong>in</strong> and tonic.<br />
Waiter: We do not serve alcohol beverages to under-age.<br />
Sergiu: Come on, stop jok<strong>in</strong>g, you’ll get your tip… wh<strong>at</strong>’s the problem?<br />
The waiter: The problem is th<strong>at</strong> we have rules and we obey them!<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Come on; how old are you? Wh<strong>at</strong>, are we the first teenagers ask<strong>in</strong>g for<br />
booze? Didn’t you dr<strong>in</strong>k <strong>in</strong> high <strong>school</strong>?<br />
The waiter: If you don’t stop, I’ll have to call the bodyguards.<br />
Sergiu: Come on, girls; let’s go as here we would only get nervous!<br />
SCENE III<br />
The students get out of the restaurant; sit down on a bench <strong>in</strong> the park. Sergiu takes<br />
out the cigarettes, the girls redo their make-up. All of the sudden, their teacher comes<br />
nearer… The students don’t notice her.<br />
The teacher: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you do<strong>in</strong>g here? Ema, didn’t you tell me yesterday on the<br />
phone th<strong>at</strong> you were sick, and you wouldn’t come to <strong>school</strong> the whole week?<br />
And now you are <strong>in</strong> the park?! And you too, Ir<strong>in</strong>a and Sergiu?! You all know<br />
your situ<strong>at</strong>ion: lots of absences and small grades…<br />
Sergiu: But, teacher, we have medical exemption. We are sick, but no so seriously…as<br />
to stay <strong>in</strong>doors.<br />
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The teacher: Yes, I can see. [po<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g towards cigarettes and make-up] You also<br />
tre<strong>at</strong> yourself! Come to <strong>school</strong> right now!<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: We cannot, we don’t have with us wh<strong>at</strong> we need. In fact, we do not know<br />
wh<strong>at</strong> classes we have.<br />
The teacher: I’ll ask your colleagues to lend you some pencils and sheets of paper<br />
so you can take notes.<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g this convers<strong>at</strong>ion, Ema’s mother also shows up.<br />
Ema’s mother: Good afternoon, teacher, I see Ema is <strong>in</strong> the park <strong>in</strong>stead of be<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>school</strong>. I work even 12 hours per day so she didn’t lack anyth<strong>in</strong>g while<br />
she stays <strong>in</strong> the park <strong>in</strong>stead of <strong>school</strong>. And if today we haven’t had pest exterm<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion,<br />
I would still be <strong>at</strong> work!<br />
Ema: No, mum, we don’t have classes today.<br />
The teacher: Are you ly<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> front of me?!<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Ema, hush! We’ll get <strong>in</strong> more trouble…<br />
The teacher [speaks to the mother]: Madam, Ema has a difficult situ<strong>at</strong>ion: she<br />
doesn’t learn, she will probably fail some subjects; she has lots of absences and<br />
shows no sign of wish<strong>in</strong>g to mend her ways. I don’t know wh<strong>at</strong> else to say.<br />
Probably you haven’t received my <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>ions to come to <strong>school</strong>?!<br />
Ema’s mother: Now it’s the first time I hear about this and it’s true s<strong>in</strong>ce I cannot<br />
leave my office as my boss trusts only me.<br />
The teacher: I believe you, but you see <strong>in</strong> the end you’ve neglected your child.<br />
And Ema felt she could hide the truth from you.<br />
Ema’s mother: Th<strong>at</strong>’s true, but I promise you this situ<strong>at</strong>ion will change, I’ll<br />
come daily until th<strong>in</strong>gs improve, as you know she has been an A student till<br />
this year… And I’ll also speak with Sergiu’s and Ir<strong>in</strong>a’s parents, as they are my<br />
neighbours.<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: No, ma’am, please!<br />
Sergiu: Please, no! Goodness, I can see my f<strong>at</strong>her com<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
Sergiu’s f<strong>at</strong>her comes… who <strong>in</strong> fact ends this scene by say<strong>in</strong>g the moral.<br />
Sergiu’s f<strong>at</strong>her: People can change… today they play one role on the stage of<br />
life, tomorrow another one, it depends on how they write the script for themselves<br />
and how they direct the world they cre<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
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Notes<br />
1. The 10th grade is the second year of high <strong>school</strong>; it generally <strong>in</strong>cludes young from<br />
15 to 16 years old.<br />
2. The mark<strong>in</strong>g system <strong>in</strong> Romania is from 1 to 10 (except pre<strong>school</strong> and primary educ<strong>at</strong>ion),<br />
5 mean<strong>in</strong>g a pass<strong>in</strong>g grade.<br />
3. 1 is a grade generally used for tell<strong>in</strong>g another the correct answer.<br />
4. «On numbers» expression is generally used to show th<strong>at</strong> the students will nor all receive<br />
the same subjects but different ones consider<strong>in</strong>g their number (generally are 2 numbers<br />
1 and 2 th<strong>at</strong> correspond to a certa<strong>in</strong> row of se<strong>at</strong>s).<br />
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A cold story…<br />
COORDINATOR<br />
Teacher Do<strong>in</strong>a Mus¸<strong>at</strong>, «Nicolae Bălcescu» Voc<strong>at</strong>ional School, Oltenit¸a<br />
CO-AUTHORS<br />
Cantacuz Cătăl<strong>in</strong>, Dana Andreea, Eftimie Laurent¸iu, M<strong>in</strong>cu Loredana, Zamfir Ioana,<br />
«Nicolae Bălcescu» voc<strong>at</strong>ional <strong>school</strong>, Oltenit¸a<br />
I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k they will ever f<strong>in</strong>d out where I am…<br />
They are never th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g about me… they have their own problems, their never-end<strong>in</strong>g<br />
and cold quarrels, th<strong>at</strong> I cannot break <strong>in</strong> but as a quiet spect<strong>at</strong>or or as a<br />
furniture piece. In fact I cannot even react to… I don’t have the necessary words<br />
anymore, I don’t know whom to address to: maybe to my f<strong>at</strong>her as I enjoyed more<br />
stay<strong>in</strong>g with him, or maybe to my mother as I was laugh<strong>in</strong>g with her when we<br />
went shopp<strong>in</strong>g sometimes. Better not to tell anybody, it’s quite not necessary!<br />
Andreea…<br />
I’ll call her to tell… she has many friends… sure she’ll help me…<br />
I’ll text my parents: «Don’t worry. I’m <strong>at</strong> my grandparents, <strong>at</strong> the countryside».<br />
Why should I write to them? Maybe it’d be better not to <strong>in</strong>form them of anyth<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
Anyway mum would read the text when she arrives home; particularly<br />
notic<strong>in</strong>g it’s from me!<br />
Now I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to text Andreea aga<strong>in</strong>… I don’t have money to make a call:<br />
«Call me. I don’t have any money on my pre-pay. I ran away from home».<br />
I’m look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> my phone and I’m not surprised it has only one b<strong>at</strong>tery l<strong>in</strong>e. It<br />
doesn’t take <strong>in</strong> with me either. I feel like smash<strong>in</strong>g it on the irregular asphalt of<br />
the pavement and forget about everyth<strong>in</strong>g surround<strong>in</strong>g me. Look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> my th<strong>in</strong><br />
and small shadow I’m ask<strong>in</strong>g myself if there’s someone <strong>in</strong> this world th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g<br />
about me… call<strong>in</strong>g me, shout<strong>in</strong>g my name, help<strong>in</strong>g me with a friendly advice.<br />
412
I’m look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the red phone I remember a boyfriend bought it for me, my first<br />
boyfriend and mum rewarded my joy with an awful flogg<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Th<strong>at</strong> was the first time I ran away from home and <strong>school</strong>… I went to his<br />
place… then police followed and the given st<strong>at</strong>ements and the quarrels neverend<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
and cold, without any emotions.<br />
Back then I wasn’t as lonely as I am now; there were my <strong>school</strong>m<strong>at</strong>es who<br />
looked for me and helped me.<br />
Now nobody calls me…<br />
I’m wait<strong>in</strong>g… I’m wait<strong>in</strong>g… I’m wait<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
I’ve been star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> my pone for 2 m<strong>in</strong>utes and 30 seconds.<br />
I’m bored and hungry. I’m mov<strong>in</strong>g my cold hand over the belly <strong>cover</strong>ed with<br />
the thick green wool pullover, my favourite one. I’ve put it on as I know it br<strong>in</strong>gs<br />
me luck!<br />
I’m pass<strong>in</strong>g near a shop w<strong>in</strong>dow and without plann<strong>in</strong>g it I see my face… I<br />
make fun of me, as I’m a little tousled by the w<strong>in</strong>d outside, then I suddenly get sad<br />
and I’m about to cry, to punch the shop w<strong>in</strong>dow th<strong>at</strong>’s disfigur<strong>in</strong>g the face I know<br />
very well. I gaze <strong>at</strong> me one more time, and then wipe my tears; I draw the tissues<br />
out of the bag as this morn<strong>in</strong>g make-up seems to have suffered serious damage.<br />
I look around me. The street is empty so no one can see how much I suffer…<br />
no one is near me… lonely aga<strong>in</strong>!<br />
Th<strong>at</strong>’s how I am, lonely!<br />
The phone…<br />
«Tomorrow for <strong>school</strong> we should have the M<strong>at</strong>hs exercise book. My book is <strong>at</strong><br />
your place. Please br<strong>in</strong>g it tomorrow. Diana».<br />
I have to answer her: «I cannot come to <strong>school</strong> tomorrow… I th<strong>in</strong>k I won’t<br />
come <strong>at</strong> all, as a series of certa<strong>in</strong> personal problems emerged th<strong>at</strong> need to be<br />
solved urgently. Take the exercise book from one of the colleagues, thus solv<strong>in</strong>g<br />
the situ<strong>at</strong>ion. I’m sorry! Mar<strong>in</strong>a».<br />
Two texts were on hold while I was writ<strong>in</strong>g the p<strong>at</strong>hetic excuse to Diana.<br />
«Let’s meet <strong>at</strong> the bar. I’ll come with my boyfriend and with Ionut¸, your classm<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Andreea».<br />
I thought Andreea had grown up, but she’s 16 and behaves as spoilt children of<br />
10. She has all the rights to behave like this, as her parents understand her perfectly<br />
<strong>in</strong> everyth<strong>in</strong>g she does… and then her boyfriend is thoughtful and very p<strong>at</strong>ient.<br />
I don’t know why th<strong>at</strong> geek of Ionut¸ is <strong>in</strong>volved <strong>in</strong> this and why Andreea bear<br />
him around. Everybody will f<strong>in</strong>d out about my <strong>in</strong>tention, but it’s time not to<br />
th<strong>in</strong>k about this anymore.<br />
The other text has to be read: «Are you really crazy, Mar<strong>in</strong>a? There are few<br />
more weeks till the end of the 10th grade!!! If the headmaster f<strong>in</strong>ds out, you’re<br />
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dead!!! I hope it’s a bad joke and you’ll re<strong>cover</strong> your senses until tomorrow and<br />
realize the disaster await<strong>in</strong>g you. If you need help… Diana».<br />
Help!?! Who can help me!?!<br />
«Don’t worry about me! I’ll manage by myself this time!».<br />
Lonely… lonely… lonely…<br />
My parents haven’t even realized I’m miss<strong>in</strong>g! If I go to <strong>school</strong> I’ll have the<br />
surprise the chemistry teacher will not pass me for understandable reasons… absences,<br />
absences, absences. But she has never asked me <strong>in</strong>stead if I were happy <strong>in</strong><br />
my family, if my f<strong>at</strong>her spent and enjoyed some time with me, if my mother, smart<br />
and always busy with her high payable job, had ever noticed th<strong>at</strong> … I’m<br />
pregnant…<br />
I’ve said it… I thought I’d never been able to say it out loud… Let me say it<br />
one more time… let me shout it… I’m pregnant!!!<br />
A strange noise makes me re<strong>cover</strong> from the dream I’ve built on a sad reality.<br />
The phone announces me the b<strong>at</strong>tery is about to die… as are my hopes… about<br />
to die!<br />
«Mar<strong>in</strong>a, we are wait<strong>in</strong>g for you to come to the bar. Where are you?».<br />
With the last gleams of the b<strong>at</strong>tery I sent a text: «I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k I can come anymore!<br />
Small changes have appeared <strong>in</strong> my current schedule. I’ve dis<strong>cover</strong>ed<br />
someth<strong>in</strong>g wonderful… Don’t worry about me! Have fun! Mar<strong>in</strong>a».<br />
The w<strong>in</strong>d was blow<strong>in</strong>g coldly and its breeze was pa<strong>in</strong>fully whipp<strong>in</strong>g my face,<br />
my body tormented and anguished by thoughts.<br />
The night might br<strong>in</strong>g with it the solution for my problems… the s<strong>in</strong>cere discussion<br />
with my family.<br />
414
School abandon and the tragedy of a 13 year-old boy<br />
COORDINATOR<br />
N<strong>at</strong>alia Oproiu – «No Abuse» Associ<strong>at</strong>ion, Bucharest<br />
CO-AUTHORS<br />
Ică Alexandru, Oproiu Eduard Gabriel, Radu Cătăl<strong>in</strong><br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: I’m a boy of just 13 years old and I have plenty of hardships. I<br />
don’t know wh<strong>at</strong> happ<strong>in</strong>ess and pamper<strong>in</strong>g are anymore, like other children<br />
of my age. This is how the story of 13 year-old boy beg<strong>in</strong>s. One day he was go<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to the market to buy bread and pot<strong>at</strong>oes, as th<strong>at</strong> was all they could afford<br />
and he met an ex- <strong>school</strong> m<strong>at</strong>e, who was <strong>in</strong> the 7 th grade and who asked him:<br />
Gabriel: Hello! Are you Darius, the boy who abandoned <strong>school</strong> <strong>in</strong> the 2 nd grade,<br />
<strong>at</strong> just 8 years old?<br />
Darius: Hi! Yes, it’s true, my name is Darius and I abandoned <strong>school</strong>, but it wasn’t<br />
my fault, it was due to the problems I experienced and I still am. I don’t<br />
know you, I don’t know who you are… if you have time to listen to me, I want<br />
to tell you more as I feel the need to talk with somebody who listens to me.<br />
Even more, I really want a friend.<br />
Gabriel: Ok, from now on, you can call me your friend; now let’s go to the park<br />
to discuss more.<br />
Darius: I’m very sorry; I cannot go now, as my little brothers are wait<strong>in</strong>g for me<br />
<strong>at</strong> home, with the shopp<strong>in</strong>g I’ve told you about, bread and pot<strong>at</strong>oes.<br />
Gabriel: Then, when do you want us to meet?<br />
Darius: I’m tak<strong>in</strong>g my brothers out to the park tomorrow and we can speak<br />
there. Thanks for your friendship and we’ll talk more tomorrow. Good-bye!<br />
Gabriel: Good-bye to you too!<br />
415
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Next day, Darius went to the park with his brothers, meet<strong>in</strong>g his<br />
friend there.<br />
Gabriel: Hi, Darius! How are you?<br />
Darius: Hi, but I don’t know your name, my friend.<br />
Gabriel: I forgot to <strong>in</strong>troduce myself yesterday. I’m Gabriel and I want to f<strong>in</strong>d out<br />
more about your <strong>school</strong> abandon. Why did you drop out of <strong>school</strong>? You were<br />
the best student <strong>in</strong> class, with A grades and very friendly. When the colleagues<br />
heard you couldn’t go to <strong>school</strong> anymore, they were all shocked, and me too.<br />
Darius: Before hear<strong>in</strong>g my real life story, as I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to tell you the truth, I<br />
want you to meet my younger brothers. She is Maria; she’s 6 years old, while<br />
Cătăl<strong>in</strong> is ten years old. Now go and play <strong>in</strong> the park! I’m very sorry about<br />
Maria as she is very talented, she has a beautiful voice, she s<strong>in</strong>gs all day, but I<br />
cannot do anyth<strong>in</strong>g for her thus her talent is dis<strong>cover</strong>ed. Now I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to tell<br />
you the cause of my <strong>school</strong> abandon. School is my dream, I’ll go to <strong>school</strong> but<br />
l<strong>at</strong>er on, when my f<strong>at</strong>her wants to return home.<br />
Gabriel: Why? Where is he?<br />
Darius: Everyth<strong>in</strong>g has happened because of him. We were a happy family, we<br />
went to <strong>school</strong>, we were feel<strong>in</strong>g good together until dad, greedy for bigger<br />
earn<strong>in</strong>gs, decided to go abroad. He didn’t want to live decently, he thought<br />
about liv<strong>in</strong>g high. He didn’t th<strong>in</strong>k about us, about my mum, about leav<strong>in</strong>g us<br />
alone, he was selfish. All our sorrows started with him. At the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g there<br />
was a time when he used to send us the necessary money we needed for food<br />
and utilities. But, l<strong>at</strong>er on, he forgot about us.<br />
Gabriel: How come he forgot about you?<br />
Darius: He forgot he had a wife and children <strong>at</strong> home. He stopped call<strong>in</strong>g us, never<br />
m<strong>in</strong>d the money… Back then mother was work<strong>in</strong>g from morn<strong>in</strong>g till l<strong>at</strong>e<br />
<strong>at</strong> night so she could support us and, after all her f<strong>at</strong>igue so we grew well, an <strong>in</strong>curable<br />
disease took her to bed…<br />
Gabriel: Wh<strong>at</strong> disease?<br />
Darius: She went to the doctor as she was very sick, she thought the cause was exhaustion,<br />
and stress, but she was shocked to f<strong>in</strong>d out she had cancer and heart<br />
problems. Only my f<strong>at</strong>her made her ill <strong>at</strong> heart, but of cancer I don’t know<br />
anymore… I’m too small and all these go beyond my understand<strong>in</strong>g. All the<br />
time she was th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g she would die and we’d be left with the grandparents<br />
th<strong>at</strong> are old and sick. But this is not all. After 1 year of sufferance and torment<br />
she died from distress, hav<strong>in</strong>g a heart <strong>at</strong>tack.<br />
Gabriel: Wh<strong>at</strong> can it be worse than the de<strong>at</strong>h of the mother who gave you birth?<br />
Darius: When f<strong>in</strong>d<strong>in</strong>g out about my mother’s de<strong>at</strong>h, I cried a lot, I was very sick.<br />
Then grandma took me to the doctor and he said I was depressive because of<br />
416
the shock suffered; I also have diabetes, probably caused by sorrow, I don’t<br />
know. Days, months and years of torment and grief followed after my mum’s<br />
de<strong>at</strong>h, my grandma borrowed money from everybody for mum’s funeral, for<br />
the alms she did for her and for my <strong>in</strong>sul<strong>in</strong> medic<strong>at</strong>ion th<strong>at</strong> I have to do 3 times<br />
per day even now. I was forced to drop out of <strong>school</strong> because I don’t have money<br />
either for food or medic<strong>at</strong>ion, never m<strong>in</strong>d the <strong>school</strong> supplies or the <strong>school</strong><br />
uniform. I’m not as lucky as you are, to have parents tak<strong>in</strong>g care of me, I’m the<br />
big brother and I’m like a parent for my sibl<strong>in</strong>gs, tak<strong>in</strong>g care of them.<br />
Gabriel: How do you take care of them? Aren’t your grandparents tak<strong>in</strong>g care of<br />
you?<br />
Darius: My grandparents are very old and sick, they are afraid not to die, so the<br />
st<strong>at</strong>e takes us to the orphanage. Grandma prays every day to God to keep her<br />
alive until dad returns, for us to grow up, to be able to work, not to be taken to<br />
the orphanage. Grandma also prays to pay the huge debts she made for my illness<br />
and need of medic<strong>at</strong>ion, while the st<strong>at</strong>e doesn’t ensure me all the tre<strong>at</strong>ment<br />
I need. They also need their medic<strong>in</strong>e, the poor of them renounced <strong>at</strong><br />
it to my favour, plus the food and the house utilities they have to pay, without<br />
clothes and shoes … we receive from good- hearted people.<br />
Gabriel: I didn’t know you’ve been through all these troubles. I’m really sorry,<br />
I’ll speak with my parents, my f<strong>at</strong>her is a policeman and maybe he can f<strong>in</strong>d your<br />
f<strong>at</strong>her, to tell him to come home.<br />
Darius: I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k he’ll come, even if he f<strong>in</strong>ds him.<br />
Gabriel: Why do you th<strong>in</strong>k he won’t come?<br />
Darius: He forgot we are still liv<strong>in</strong>g. Maybe now he has another family and other<br />
children. A man changes <strong>in</strong> 5 years, don’t you th<strong>in</strong>k?<br />
Gabriel: I don’t know wh<strong>at</strong> to th<strong>in</strong>k, but I’m sure he loves you. Maybe someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
happened to him, don’t you th<strong>in</strong>k?<br />
Darius: The hardships I’ve passed through made me grow up a lot and I f<strong>in</strong>d it<br />
difficult to believe <strong>in</strong> dreams and hopes. S<strong>in</strong>cerely speak<strong>in</strong>g, I don’t believe he<br />
will return or th<strong>at</strong> he is sick. Five years have already passed. In 5 years we<br />
should have received <strong>at</strong> least one phone call <strong>in</strong>form<strong>in</strong>g us if he was sick, if he<br />
came home or if he still loved us. Honestly I believe f<strong>at</strong>her abandoned us as I<br />
abandoned <strong>school</strong> and not because I lacked the will to <strong>at</strong>tend <strong>school</strong> but for<br />
my present situ<strong>at</strong>ion.<br />
Gabriel: I’m very sorry for you. I didn’t know your life was a real tragedy. But you<br />
know hope is the last to die. I’ll help you as much as I can, as you have been<br />
s<strong>in</strong>cere with me and told me about your life.<br />
Darius: Thanks a lot for understand<strong>in</strong>g, I hope to see you soon, if you f<strong>in</strong>d pleasure<br />
<strong>in</strong> talk<strong>in</strong>g with me, after f<strong>in</strong>d<strong>in</strong>g out I’m sick with diabetes.<br />
417
Gabriel: Of course we’ll meet aga<strong>in</strong>. We are friends, aren’t we?<br />
Darius: Of course. Good-bye!<br />
Gabriel: Good-bye to you too!<br />
Darius: Maria, Cătăl<strong>in</strong>, let’s go home!<br />
Maria: We stay a little more to play.<br />
Darius: We can’t stay anymore, as we are upsett<strong>in</strong>g grandma who is worried and<br />
sick.<br />
Maria: Ok, I’m com<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: The children went home, but the older boy Darius was th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g<br />
about his f<strong>at</strong>her. All the time his m<strong>in</strong>d was ask<strong>in</strong>g questions like these: Are we<br />
guilty of wh<strong>at</strong> is happen<strong>in</strong>g? Have I made a mistake? Had I upset f<strong>at</strong>her so<br />
much th<strong>at</strong> he wanted to leave, to get away from us? I’m sure he doesn’t love<br />
us… If by a miracle f<strong>at</strong>her returns home, I may go to <strong>school</strong> aga<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Darius: But it’s better not to dream and I believe dest<strong>in</strong>y wanted this tragedy to<br />
happen. However I’ll pray to God to get well and have a rescue from heaven, so<br />
grandparents pay all the debts they made, the pensions th<strong>at</strong> are low now to be<br />
doubled and our social allowances of only 10 euros per months to be <strong>in</strong>creased.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: And the miracle happened: Gabriel’s f<strong>at</strong>her made some <strong>in</strong>quiries,<br />
and phone calls and found the children’s f<strong>at</strong>her, announced him of his wife’s<br />
de<strong>at</strong>h and about his older son Darius’s <strong>school</strong> drop-out. Hear<strong>in</strong>g this news<br />
Darius’s f<strong>at</strong>her embarked urgently on a plane and returned to Romania to his<br />
house and children. The hopeless grandparents were pray<strong>in</strong>g to God for a<br />
miracle. Then the miracle came through the children’s f<strong>at</strong>her who returned<br />
home from abroad with lots of money. See<strong>in</strong>g him, children couldn’t control<br />
their tears of emotions and joy. Grandparents told dad they can die <strong>in</strong> peace<br />
now as somebody will take care of their grandchildren. F<strong>in</strong>d<strong>in</strong>g out about the<br />
grandparents’ debts, f<strong>at</strong>her paid them, regretted he had forgotten about his<br />
children for five years and th<strong>at</strong> his older son, Darius, got sick and abandoned<br />
<strong>school</strong>. He found out the other sibl<strong>in</strong>gs hadn’t been to <strong>school</strong> either. Then f<strong>at</strong>her<br />
went to <strong>school</strong> and registered the children, Maria and Cătăl<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> the 1 st<br />
grade, and Darius <strong>in</strong> the 3rd grade to restart his abandoned studies.<br />
418
SCENE I<br />
The brothers<br />
COORDINATOR<br />
Ana Maria – «S<strong>in</strong>tagma» Centre, Bucharest<br />
Elisabeta S¸erbănescu – «No Abuse» Associ<strong>at</strong>ion, Bucharest<br />
CO-AUTHORS<br />
Maria Petre, Alexandra Sava, Alexandru Niculae<br />
Darkness. The voices of two children can be heard.<br />
Giany: Alex…<br />
Alex: Wh<strong>at</strong>’s up?<br />
Giany: When we grow up, will you still be my brother?<br />
Alex [clear <strong>in</strong> his m<strong>in</strong>d]: Of course, we’ll be. Noth<strong>in</strong>g will take us apart!<br />
Giany: And do you promise to take care of me?<br />
Alex [equally sure]: I promise! Till our de<strong>at</strong>h! But wh<strong>at</strong> came to you, suddenly<br />
like this?<br />
Giany [a little frightened]: I don’t know, Alex but… [with a trembl<strong>in</strong>g voice] I’m<br />
scared. I’m very scared.<br />
SCENE II<br />
Darkness. Several knocks can be heard. Weak lights lean over the two brothers who are study<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> the right corner of the stage. On the left, the nervous and agit<strong>at</strong>ed f<strong>at</strong>her sits <strong>in</strong><br />
an armchair and smokes. From time to time he shakes his cigarette ash on the floor and<br />
sips from a glass of w<strong>in</strong>e. From the left corner of the stage the mother enters, tired, and<br />
with clearly outl<strong>in</strong>ed eye pouches and bags <strong>in</strong> both hands. She closes the door. She sighs.<br />
419
F<strong>at</strong>her [boil<strong>in</strong>g]: Now you’re com<strong>in</strong>g, wretched woman?<br />
Mother [with a shaken voice]: Well… I was…<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her [furious]: You’ve been to the brothel, whore! Th<strong>at</strong>’s your place!<br />
The kids put down the books. Giany starts trembl<strong>in</strong>g, and Alex <strong>cover</strong>s his ears with the<br />
hands. Meanwhile, the f<strong>at</strong>her stands up from the armchair and goes towards the bags<br />
mother has left on the table. He searches them up, then full of anger turns towards his wife.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Where’s my bottle? Bitch!<br />
Mother: Have you no shame <strong>at</strong> all? I’m work<strong>in</strong>g all day long; we have such a hard<br />
life, and now you have the nerve to ask me spend<strong>in</strong>g money on booze?! Wh<strong>at</strong><br />
are we feed<strong>in</strong>g these children with? With air? You dr<strong>in</strong>k too much, man! And<br />
this booze is go<strong>in</strong>g to destroy you, just listen to me!<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her slaps mother.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Don’t tell me how much I have to dr<strong>in</strong>k!<br />
From the right side of the stage, the children jump to protect the mother. F<strong>at</strong>her pushes<br />
them away.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Go away, you filthy scoundrels! Go to your room and study!<br />
Mother: Don’t you dare hit them! Wh<strong>at</strong> have they done to you now? They<br />
haven’t done anyth<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Shut up! Go away! I don’t want to see you!<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her pushes mum who fells. He digs up through her purse, takes some money and exits<br />
the scene. The children lean over their mother and cry. After some seconds, Giany<br />
stands up and starts runn<strong>in</strong>g. He exits through the left side of the stage. Alex rema<strong>in</strong>s<br />
lean<strong>in</strong>g over his mother. He holds her hand and keeps on cry<strong>in</strong>g. The light focuses on<br />
them, and then turns off.<br />
SCENE III<br />
Darkness. On the right side of the stage, <strong>at</strong> the corner of a block of fl<strong>at</strong>s a gang of boys<br />
is laugh<strong>in</strong>g and talk<strong>in</strong>g. Some of them do a break-dance on a hip hop tune. On the<br />
right side Giany sits on some steps and looks sadly <strong>at</strong> the others. After some seconds the<br />
music stops.<br />
420
Giany: Why are they so happy? How come they have no worries? And how come<br />
everyth<strong>in</strong>g is so well for them? I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k I can resist much. It’s so difficult<br />
s<strong>in</strong>ce mother died. My old man… I haven’t seen him for a month. [he sighs] Is<br />
it not possible for me to forget about all these? Can’t I escape it? I believe I<br />
have to try, <strong>at</strong> least once. I have noth<strong>in</strong>g to lose. I have to try!<br />
Giany stands and goes towards the gang. The boys look <strong>at</strong> him, first sceptically, and<br />
then they shook hands. The hip hop tune can be heard aga<strong>in</strong>, while Giany speaks with<br />
the gang leader. This one hesit<strong>at</strong>es first, but <strong>in</strong> the end he gives Giany a cigarette.<br />
SCENE IV<br />
The same sett<strong>in</strong>g, the same gang and Giany. The leader grabs Giany by his neck.<br />
Bullet: Come on, bro, tell me, are you ready? We’re do<strong>in</strong>g it this time, aren’t we?<br />
Giany [hesit<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g]: Ok, Bullet. We’re do<strong>in</strong>g it.<br />
Bullet: Be more certa<strong>in</strong>, man! Fuck it! After this hit we’ll be the wise guys.<br />
Another member of the band: Wh<strong>at</strong>, man? Are you scared? Did you get frightened?<br />
Giany: No, bro, but I feel it baloney…<br />
Alex enters the stage and listens to the talk<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Bullet: Man! Are you with us or not? If you don’t want, th<strong>at</strong>’s it, but don’t come<br />
to us afterwards and pretend we are friends. Who’s go<strong>in</strong>g to give you weeds?<br />
Who’s go<strong>in</strong>g to make you a wise guy? Tell me! It’s your bus<strong>in</strong>ess, bro!<br />
Giany: Yes, man, Ok! I’m with you! How shan’t I?<br />
Bullet: Like this, my brother.<br />
He grabs his neck aga<strong>in</strong>. They shake hands. Alex gets nearer and takes Giany aside.<br />
Alex: You’re hang<strong>in</strong>g out with these, man?<br />
Giany: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you want? Wh<strong>at</strong>’s the problem?<br />
Alex: Th<strong>at</strong>’s why you haven’t come home? Or gone to <strong>school</strong>?<br />
Giany: Errr yes… No!<br />
Alex: Then?<br />
Giany: Wh<strong>at</strong>… is it your bus<strong>in</strong>ess? Leave me! Bullshit!<br />
Alex: Listen to me too, man… It’s not good. It’s not good <strong>at</strong> all, you should know!<br />
421
Giany: Wh<strong>at</strong> is it no good, man? Wh<strong>at</strong> do you know?<br />
Alex: I know enough. Listen. I spoke with grandma and we’re not go<strong>in</strong>g to stay<br />
here anymore. We’re go<strong>in</strong>g to their house <strong>in</strong> Timis¸oara. How’s th<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Giany: Why?<br />
Alex: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you mean why? Wh<strong>at</strong> shall we do here? Can’t you see we’re alone;<br />
we don’t have anybody.<br />
Giany: You are alone! You’re too stupid.<br />
Alex: Why are you speak<strong>in</strong>g like this, man? Don’t you understand we’re go<strong>in</strong>g<br />
there? We’re go<strong>in</strong>g to stay there; like we used to do <strong>in</strong> the summer holidays<br />
only this time we’ll be go<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>school</strong> there too. You know grandpa was a<br />
teacher. He’ll f<strong>in</strong>d us a good <strong>school</strong>. There is no problem.<br />
Giany: You go! I’m not <strong>in</strong>terested.<br />
Bullet: Giany! Come here a little, man!<br />
Giany: Just a m<strong>in</strong>ute, Bullet. Wait a little. [to Alex] See? I’m not alone. I don’t<br />
have problems. I don’t keep you here with me. If you want, go away. But you<br />
shouldn’t make me come with you either.<br />
Alex: I… you know… I’ve only told you… th<strong>at</strong> way should be better.<br />
Giany: Maybe. But I’m still not com<strong>in</strong>g. I’m stay<strong>in</strong>g here.<br />
Alex: Ok. Maybe you change your m<strong>in</strong>d.<br />
Alex exits the stage. Giany ponders a little.<br />
Giany [to himself]: I won’t change my m<strong>in</strong>d. I’ll never change my m<strong>in</strong>d.<br />
A piece of a BUG Mafia tune can be heard: Avem acelas¸i sânge în v<strong>in</strong>e (‘We have<br />
the same blood <strong>in</strong> our ve<strong>in</strong>s’) speaks about time pass<strong>in</strong>g by. One of the l<strong>in</strong>es says:<br />
«We’ll be brothers till de<strong>at</strong>h tears us apart»…<br />
SCENE V<br />
Three men sit around a table. They play poker.<br />
Giany: Check.<br />
Bullet: Me too. Giany, you know I sold the powders, you’ve brought good stuff.<br />
The third: Another hundred.<br />
Bullet: I’ll give you.<br />
Giany: Me too. [Places his last card] Th<strong>at</strong>’s wh<strong>at</strong> the boys said? Th<strong>at</strong> it’s good?<br />
They liked it, didn’t they? Check.<br />
422
Bullet: Yes, yes. How can they not like it? I’m all <strong>in</strong>.<br />
The third: Ha! He’s bluff<strong>in</strong>g! Look <strong>at</strong> this sloppy face. I’m go<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Giany: I’m not.<br />
From the two sides of the stage hooded persons enter g<strong>at</strong>her<strong>in</strong>g slowly towards the table<br />
th<strong>at</strong> they surround.<br />
The third: Giany, my man, he doesn’t have anyth<strong>in</strong>g, man; he only wants to scare<br />
us.<br />
Giany: I still won’t go.<br />
Bullet: Come on, man, play here. Leave Giany alone! He won’t go, he won’t go.<br />
The third: Let me see. Wh<strong>at</strong> do you have?<br />
Bullet: Full!<br />
The third [throw<strong>in</strong>g the cards]: Man, aga<strong>in</strong>?<br />
One of the hooded men: Police! Nobody moves!<br />
Giany takes out a gun, hence the hooded policemen fire and shoot him. Giany falls on<br />
the floor. The other two are taken out of the stage <strong>in</strong> cuffs by hooded policemen. Only<br />
one hooded policeman rema<strong>in</strong>s on the stage who moves towards Giany and takes his<br />
hood off. The hooded guy is Alex.<br />
Alex [grabs Giany’s elbow]: Move!<br />
Giany: Ouch!<br />
Alex: Move more quickly or it will hurt even more!<br />
Giany: Bullshit!<br />
Alex [puzzled]: Giany! Giany, brother, is this you?<br />
Giany [look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to his eyes]: No! [push<strong>in</strong>g him] I’m not brother with you, son of<br />
a bitch! Th<strong>at</strong>’s wh<strong>at</strong> you are, wh<strong>at</strong> you’ve become, a fuck<strong>in</strong>g policeman.<br />
Alex: Wh<strong>at</strong> about you? Look who’s talk<strong>in</strong>g! Wh<strong>at</strong> have you become, man? Look<br />
<strong>at</strong> you…<br />
Giany: Th<strong>at</strong>’s my bus<strong>in</strong>ess!<br />
Alex: Well, it’s not your bus<strong>in</strong>ess, man. This is my bus<strong>in</strong>ess, to arrest you, asshole.<br />
An asshole, th<strong>at</strong>’s wh<strong>at</strong> you’ve become!<br />
Giany: Arrest me!<br />
Alex: Don’t you even care?<br />
Giany: Man, are you arrest<strong>in</strong>g me or not? Arrest me <strong>at</strong> once!<br />
Alex: You’ll go to jail.<br />
Giany: Take me! You take me there, with your hand. I want to see if you’re my<br />
brother, you animal!<br />
423
Alex: Mean<strong>in</strong>g? Wh<strong>at</strong> do you want now? To let you escape?<br />
Giany: No, take me to the police; this is wh<strong>at</strong> brothers do…<br />
Alex: It seems we weren’t brothers.<br />
Giany: We were! We would still be, maybe, if you weren’t a fuck<strong>in</strong>g policeman.<br />
Alex: This fuck<strong>in</strong>g policeman is go<strong>in</strong>g to take you to the st<strong>at</strong>ion right now. You’ll<br />
get wh<strong>at</strong> you deserve. I’m sorry but this is how it should be done.<br />
Alex handcuffs Giany and takes him out of the stage.<br />
SCENE VI<br />
A table <strong>in</strong> the middle of the stage. Alex sits on one side, Giany with handcuffs on the<br />
other side. Alex offers him a package.<br />
Alex: Here you are!<br />
Giany: Wh<strong>at</strong>’s this?<br />
Alex: Wh<strong>at</strong> you’ve asked me for.<br />
Giany: Cigarettes?<br />
Alex: Yes. [studies Giany] I see you have the whole arm <strong>in</strong> bandage.<br />
Giany [furious]: Fuck it! I’d better have lost it than suffer this pa<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Alex: You’re talk<strong>in</strong>g nonsense! It’s useless to pretend you don’t care.<br />
Both of them are quiet for some seconds. They stare <strong>at</strong> the floor.<br />
Alex [raise his eyes towards Giany]: I spoke <strong>in</strong>to court.<br />
Giany: And?<br />
Alex: I don’t know… They’ve already decided, you know very well.<br />
Giany: I see. Thank you, bro.<br />
Alex: You’re welcome.<br />
They are quiet aga<strong>in</strong>, look<strong>in</strong>g down.<br />
Giany: I can’t resist anymore. Do you understand? I really th<strong>in</strong>k I cannot resist<br />
anymore. These here behave as if we weren’t human.<br />
Alex: I’ll talk aga<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Giany: With whom?<br />
Alex: Don’t you worry, I know enough <strong>in</strong>fluential people, I’ve told you before.<br />
You’ll see, everyth<strong>in</strong>g will be all right. At least they should tre<strong>at</strong> you properly.<br />
424
Giany: Will it be all right? Th<strong>at</strong>’s how you thought? Th<strong>at</strong> everyth<strong>in</strong>g will be all<br />
right? But have you thought if this were also possible? Consider<strong>in</strong>g wh<strong>at</strong> I’ve<br />
done, do you th<strong>in</strong>k I deserve it?<br />
Alex: You’re here for Bullet’s fault. You let him manipul<strong>at</strong>e you as he wanted. He<br />
was the one we wanted to c<strong>at</strong>ch. Wh<strong>at</strong> the fuck were you do<strong>in</strong>g there?<br />
Giany is quiet. Alex raises his shoulders and stares <strong>at</strong> him persistently.<br />
Giany [without look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> Alex]: Who do you th<strong>in</strong>k will take pity on me?<br />
Alex: I will! I will take pity on you, brother.<br />
Giany: You were right; I’ve become a son of a bitch… like any other else.<br />
Alex: I wanted to help you s<strong>in</strong>ce we were kids. Do you remember? But back then<br />
you didn’t want it…<br />
Giany: Don’t rem<strong>in</strong>d me, please. I really don’t want to know. Believe me, if I<br />
could only turn back time… I’d listen to you. I’d go to <strong>school</strong> with you <strong>in</strong><br />
Timis¸oara, or anywhere else… You always knew wh<strong>at</strong> was good.<br />
Alex: Don’t you worry. It’ll be all right. [takes his hands] Do you remember?<br />
We’ll be brothers till de<strong>at</strong>h tears us apart.<br />
Giany: Th<strong>at</strong>’s all I have left as I didn’t listen to you when I should. You, brother!<br />
Lights turn off over the two brothers hold<strong>in</strong>g hands.<br />
425
Empty bottles<br />
COORDINATOR<br />
Vechiu Mihaela «No Abuse» Associ<strong>at</strong>ion, Bucharest<br />
ASSISTENTS<br />
Aura Bardescu, Carmen Stanciu,<br />
Raluca Moisescu, volunteers, «No Abuse» Associ<strong>at</strong>ion, Bucharest;<br />
Gheorghe Gabriel & Vechiu Cristian – <strong>in</strong>tervention sessions<br />
CO-AUTHORS<br />
Simona Banu, Raluca Boba, Andreea Damian, Ana Maria Lazăr<br />
Notes about the characters<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a is 16 years old. She is a th<strong>in</strong> teenager, quite tall [around 1.70 m] with ref<strong>in</strong>ed<br />
fe<strong>at</strong>ures, n<strong>at</strong>ural blonde hair, light-coloured eyes. She draws <strong>at</strong>tention<br />
ma<strong>in</strong>ly due to her eyes strongly highlighted through make-up, with eye-l<strong>in</strong>er and<br />
mascara. She treads firmly and walks <strong>in</strong> a straight position. Her face expression is<br />
somehow stoned. She doesn’t smile. The face muscles are tensed, the stare is<br />
fixed, challeng<strong>in</strong>g and offensive. Her hair seems dishevelled all the time,<br />
arranged <strong>in</strong> a big hurry. A k<strong>in</strong>d of nonconformist manifesto. Almost all the time<br />
she wears jeans and T-shirt, sport shoes or kickers, never sandals, never heels.<br />
After her parents’ divorce she has become extremely aggressive. She doesn’t<br />
have friends. She prefers ma<strong>in</strong>ly boy entourages and seems to feel <strong>at</strong> ease with the<br />
boys. When <strong>in</strong> such company she laughs loudly, gesticul<strong>at</strong>es, smokes often, speaks<br />
loudly, and swears. She uses the mobile phone a lot plac<strong>in</strong>g all the time on<br />
top of the cigarettes pack she puts on the table. Either for talk<strong>in</strong>g, or for text<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
the phone seems to be an extremely precious objet of her. At <strong>school</strong> she got used<br />
to the girls be<strong>in</strong>g afraid of her. Not only does she speaks rudely to them and<br />
thre<strong>at</strong>ens them, but she is always ready to fall over them. She is very surprised and<br />
irrit<strong>at</strong>ed when one of the colleagues answers back to her <strong>in</strong>sults and seems decided<br />
to face her.<br />
426
Once enter<strong>in</strong>g her block entourage, she starts smok<strong>in</strong>g marijuana. She seems<br />
to have a closer and closer rel<strong>at</strong>ionship with a boy a little older than her who<br />
makes t<strong>at</strong>toos. She is extremely proud of the t<strong>at</strong>too he is draw<strong>in</strong>g on her neck, a<br />
draw<strong>in</strong>g represent<strong>in</strong>g a marijuana leaf. She adopts as much as possible the boy’s<br />
way of life, <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g his tastes <strong>in</strong> music, films, and how to spend leisure time.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her<br />
The f<strong>at</strong>her is around 43 years old, tall, a m<strong>at</strong>ure man who still looks good. His<br />
look is somehow a little scruffy: unshaved, wear<strong>in</strong>g the same pair of jeans and<br />
maybe the same T-shirt, a tired expression, maybe as he smokes a lot. He always<br />
has a lit cigarette <strong>in</strong> hand or <strong>in</strong> the ashtray. He has an office job th<strong>at</strong> seems not to<br />
get him enough s<strong>at</strong>isfactions. When com<strong>in</strong>g home, all he wants is to sit on the<br />
couch and w<strong>at</strong>ch TV. He married young and T<strong>in</strong>a appeared early <strong>in</strong> his life.<br />
Sometimes he does not know how to communic<strong>at</strong>e with her. He would love his<br />
wife to pay more <strong>at</strong>tention to their daughter, especially now T<strong>in</strong>a is a teenager.<br />
After he divorces and meets Dana, he is very caught up <strong>in</strong> the new rel<strong>at</strong>ionship.<br />
The <strong>at</strong>tention paid to his daughter decreases dram<strong>at</strong>ically and T<strong>in</strong>a feels this but<br />
she doesn’t know how to tell him.<br />
Mother<br />
Mother is around 40 years old; she has brown hair, usually arranged <strong>in</strong> a light<br />
bun. She is quite tall, slender, a still young and <strong>at</strong>tractive silhouette. She is always<br />
on the move, both <strong>at</strong> work, where she holds quite an important position with responsibilities,<br />
and <strong>at</strong> home where she always f<strong>in</strong>ds someth<strong>in</strong>g to do. At work she<br />
dresses herself austerely and elegantly: skirt, heels, discreet make-up; <strong>at</strong> home she<br />
prefers jeans and T-shirt, but always dapper, with make-up, earr<strong>in</strong>gs, and r<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
She goes to the gym and to the beauty centre; she has a very organized schedule<br />
and usually a very busy one. She seems restless all the time, stressed, as if wait<strong>in</strong>g<br />
for someth<strong>in</strong>g to happen <strong>in</strong> order to change her life. L<strong>at</strong>ely she cannot stand cigarette<br />
smoke <strong>in</strong>side the house, especially she has quitted smok<strong>in</strong>g. She has nervous<br />
twitches – play<strong>in</strong>g with the keys, with the mobile phone. She doesn’t have<br />
too much time for T<strong>in</strong>a. She wished she could impose herself both to her daughter<br />
and to her husband. Her voice sounds authorit<strong>at</strong>ive as long as she can control<br />
herself. The moment she loses her temper and this happens quite fast and frequent,<br />
her voice becomes strident and almost desper<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Logics teacher<br />
Young teacher, around 35-37 years old. Always dressed carefully, he is aware<br />
with<strong>in</strong> high <strong>school</strong> he represents a model for the teenagers he teaches to. He of-<br />
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fers equal chances to all students. He doesn’t judge them by appearances [for example,<br />
after the way they dress]. He doesn’t punish them for absences <strong>in</strong> his class.<br />
He tries to be as correct and objective as possible. He is impressed by T<strong>in</strong>a’s <strong>in</strong>telligence,<br />
as she succeeds <strong>in</strong> gett<strong>in</strong>g a 10, without hav<strong>in</strong>g benefitted of his explan<strong>at</strong>ions,<br />
as the other students who were present <strong>in</strong> his class. He <strong>def</strong>ends T<strong>in</strong>a <strong>in</strong> the<br />
Teachers’ Council and is will<strong>in</strong>g to give her another chance.<br />
Headmaster Mândrut¸escu<br />
The headmaster is over 50 years old. Before be<strong>in</strong>g headmaster, she was deputy<br />
director. Now, she can f<strong>in</strong>ally impose herself as she has been wish<strong>in</strong>g for a long<br />
time. She wears bright colours [co<strong>at</strong> and skirt] and make-up and dyes her hair equally<br />
bright. She speaks firmly, quite fast and has the bad habit of <strong>in</strong>terrupt<strong>in</strong>g<br />
anyone try<strong>in</strong>g to express/impose an op<strong>in</strong>ion. She is divorced and has a boy who left<br />
the country long time ago. She is very strict regard<strong>in</strong>g the high <strong>school</strong> rules and<br />
nourishes the ambition of rais<strong>in</strong>g the high <strong>school</strong> level through radical measures<br />
and str<strong>at</strong>egies contempl<strong>at</strong>ed by her <strong>in</strong> many years. She abuses power and thre<strong>at</strong>ens<br />
to fire the teachers any time they do not obey her decisions unconditionally.<br />
The teacher<br />
She is around 30 years old, has long and straight hair, and wears glasses. She<br />
wears maxi dresses/ skirts, doesn’t wear heels or make-up. She’s always on the run<br />
and carries a very large bag where books, notebooks, agenda etc are gett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
mixed. She is a teacher th<strong>at</strong> succeeds <strong>in</strong> impos<strong>in</strong>g herself <strong>in</strong> front of the students,<br />
although she is not severe. She is devoted to her profession and children feel this.<br />
She tries to know better her students and communic<strong>at</strong>e with them as much as<br />
possible. She is not afraid to express her op<strong>in</strong>ions, to have a separ<strong>at</strong>e op<strong>in</strong>ion<br />
from the rest of the teachers and even to face <strong>school</strong>master Mândrut¸escu.<br />
Leo, the t<strong>at</strong>too guy<br />
He is around 18 years old, head-shaved, <strong>at</strong>hletic body, many t<strong>at</strong>toos all over<br />
his body, wears vest-typed T-shirts. He dropped out of <strong>school</strong>, lives on the money<br />
received on the t<strong>at</strong>toos done. He has a motorbike th<strong>at</strong> he’s very proud of, is<br />
very popular among those frequent<strong>in</strong>g the bar where T<strong>in</strong>a’s group comes too.<br />
Cristi, the weird guy<br />
Around 18-19 years old, always wears a cap, listens to hip-hop, speaks loudly<br />
and enjoys <strong>in</strong>sult<strong>in</strong>g those around him, justify<strong>in</strong>g it as a joke. He wears a green<br />
T-shirt, with different messages referr<strong>in</strong>g to «weeds» and very large hip-hopper<br />
trousers.<br />
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Lizi<br />
She is T<strong>in</strong>a’s class m<strong>at</strong>e, around 16 years old. She is an obedient student, doesn’t<br />
have absences, doesn’t provoke scandals, enjoys certa<strong>in</strong> <strong>school</strong> subjects she studies<br />
for fun and, generally, strives to get good marks <strong>in</strong> all subjects. She wears<br />
uniforms, and usually grips her hair <strong>in</strong> a ponytail. She has an open n<strong>at</strong>ure and has<br />
enough friends among the classm<strong>at</strong>es. She doesn’t like be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>sulted and is not<br />
used to someone be<strong>in</strong>g picky with her. She is the only girl <strong>in</strong> the class who has the<br />
courage to confront T<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Friends, the entourage<br />
Aged between 17 and 20. Always surrounded by smoke: either of tobacco or<br />
marijuana. Dressed quite differently, however most of them show their aff<strong>in</strong>ity<br />
to hip-hop. Some of them have t<strong>at</strong>toos done by Leo.<br />
SCENE I<br />
The divergent dialogue between mother and f<strong>at</strong>her<br />
Action takes place with<strong>in</strong> a normal family, typically Romanian, th<strong>at</strong> lives<br />
somewhere <strong>in</strong> the neighbourhood of the big city (Bucharest).<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
In the backside there is a curta<strong>in</strong>, a cab<strong>in</strong>et with drawers and a suitcase.<br />
Left-backside: a door (mother exits through).<br />
Left-front side: a coach (f<strong>at</strong>her sits on).<br />
On the right, there is a table with 3 se<strong>at</strong>s (chairs).<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral right: a second door ajar.<br />
A little <strong>in</strong> front of the coach, there is a coffee table and a TV-set.<br />
Costumes<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: a T-shirt, trousers and sport shoes.<br />
Mother: jeans, a low-cut blouse, a delic<strong>at</strong>e necklace, hair arranged <strong>in</strong> a Spanish<br />
bun.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: T-shirt, jeans, canvas sport shoes, hair arranged <strong>in</strong> a messy bun.<br />
Stage details<br />
Darkness <strong>in</strong> the hall. Nervous steps on heels can be heard (tack, tack, tack).<br />
Lights are turned on gradually and un<strong>cover</strong> the whole background: it’s l<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong> the<br />
even<strong>in</strong>g (10 am), f<strong>at</strong>her is <strong>at</strong> home, <strong>in</strong> the liv<strong>in</strong>g room, smok<strong>in</strong>g a cigarette – TV<br />
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is on and he w<strong>at</strong>ches a football m<strong>at</strong>ch. He leisurely smokes his cigarette. Meanwhile<br />
mother sets up some bottles. Mother’s l<strong>in</strong>e follows.<br />
Mother: Will you stop star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the TV all day long and help me? [easily irrit<strong>at</strong>ed<br />
and a little ironical].<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her [<strong>in</strong>different]: Just a m<strong>in</strong>ute… Just a m<strong>in</strong>ute…<br />
Mother waits for some seconds but her husband doesn’t show up. The woman comes<br />
and puts his bottles on the table, nervously.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you do<strong>in</strong>g, woman?!<br />
Mother: Move your ass and do someth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> this house!<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: You do pick your moments…<br />
Mother: Ah!!! [sarcastically] I’m disturb<strong>in</strong>g you… Yes… Wh<strong>at</strong> you’re w<strong>at</strong>ch<strong>in</strong>g<br />
there is more important. You can also see the rerun tomorrow.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her [ironically]: Do you need me to do someth<strong>in</strong>g? Look wh<strong>at</strong> I’m do<strong>in</strong>g! I’m<br />
do<strong>in</strong>g this! [he stands up, takes the bottles and smashes them] Now move away!<br />
Mother: You’re no good <strong>at</strong> all; I’ve had enough of you! You never do anyth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Yes… Yes… And wh<strong>at</strong> do you want me to do? Anyway you’re not s<strong>at</strong>isfied<br />
with anyth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Mother: I’ve had enough. Your <strong>in</strong>dolence is sufficient!<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: You know wh<strong>at</strong>?! If you don’t like it, just go!!!<br />
Mother packs her suitcase with fast and violent gestures, grumbl<strong>in</strong>g. T<strong>in</strong>a enters the<br />
stage through the door ajar and starts walk<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the back, without mother notic<strong>in</strong>g<br />
her. Mother goes towards the exit (the door on the left), where she slams the door <strong>in</strong> her<br />
daughter’s face. Light turns off suddenly. Another light is kept on T<strong>in</strong>a. The girl seems<br />
shocked by wh<strong>at</strong> is happen<strong>in</strong>g. The football m<strong>at</strong>ch can be heard on the tv and f<strong>at</strong>her<br />
shout<strong>in</strong>g someth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: And now wh<strong>at</strong>???<br />
Light turns off slowly underl<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g only the girl’s contracted and lost face. Gradually,<br />
the <strong>in</strong>tensity of the light grows. Only the narr<strong>at</strong>or appears.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: A happy family? Two lov<strong>in</strong>g parents? And an obedient daughter?<br />
A child like any other? Nobody knew or will ever know wh<strong>at</strong> hides bene<strong>at</strong>h a<br />
family portrait, many br<strong>in</strong>g their prejudices. Anyone can f<strong>in</strong>d himself <strong>in</strong> these<br />
circumstances. However here is T<strong>in</strong>a. This is not just a story, it can also be reality.<br />
Sometimes all we need is just a pretext…<br />
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Light decreases its <strong>in</strong>tensity, and the narr<strong>at</strong>or enters the shadow. At the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g, the<br />
scene can have comical accents, when the two characters are hav<strong>in</strong>g the dialogue. Towards<br />
the end, when everyth<strong>in</strong>g turns <strong>in</strong>to tension, once the bottles are smashed, the<br />
accent is dram<strong>at</strong>ic.<br />
SCENE II<br />
Strangers<br />
Action takes place <strong>in</strong> the house of the same family, some months after the<br />
mother has left. It’s even<strong>in</strong>g dur<strong>in</strong>g a week day. The girl is <strong>in</strong> the house liv<strong>in</strong>g<br />
room, try<strong>in</strong>g to do her homework. At the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g she speaks on the phone<br />
with a class m<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Left-backside: a door.<br />
Left-front side: a coach.<br />
On the right: a table with 2 chairs. On the table there will be 2 glasses and a<br />
bottle of w<strong>in</strong>e. In front of the coach, there is a coffee table and a tv-set.<br />
Costumes<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: a casually 2 buttons undone shirt, <strong>in</strong>formal trousers and <strong>in</strong>terest<strong>in</strong>g<br />
suede shoes.<br />
The new wife: a large midi dress, high-heeled shoes, silk stock<strong>in</strong>gs. She has<br />
loose hair.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: T-shirt, jeans, canvas sport shoes, hair arranged <strong>in</strong> a dishevelled bun.<br />
The colours of the costumes for the two characters, f<strong>at</strong>her and his new wife,<br />
can be chosen by the costume designer.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a is <strong>in</strong> the room, on the couch. She speaks on the phone. The tv can be heard on low<br />
volume.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: I can’t manage it… I don’t know if I can cope with it… And now this!?!<br />
I’ve hardly seen him <strong>at</strong> all and…<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her enters through the door (on l<strong>at</strong>eral right) with two glasses and a bottle of w<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: I’ll call you back immedi<strong>at</strong>ely! [she ends the call] Hi, daddy! [T<strong>in</strong>a goes towards<br />
him with a notebook and a pen. She wants to ask for his help regard<strong>in</strong>g a<br />
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<strong>school</strong> subject. His <strong>at</strong>titude is hesitant and distracted]. Daddy, come a little,<br />
please! I want to ask your op<strong>in</strong>ion. I don’t know if it’s better to…<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Wait a m<strong>in</strong>ute!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: It won’t take long…<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her walks through the room, she follows him, but he moves further away towards<br />
the door on the left. A woman emerges through this door. She smiles to the man. He<br />
stretches his hand and <strong>in</strong>vites her to step <strong>in</strong>to the room. A song starts: Tango to Evora<br />
by Loreena McKennitt. The two move away danc<strong>in</strong>g (tango) towards the table <strong>in</strong><br />
the liv<strong>in</strong>g room (We want to underl<strong>in</strong>e the moment with this danc<strong>in</strong>g transposition).<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a makes way for them and the two sit down <strong>at</strong> the table. Her f<strong>at</strong>her and the<br />
woman laugh loudly. The characters freeze. The girl stares confusedly <strong>at</strong> the two se<strong>at</strong>s<br />
and the two glasses. The song can be heard diffuse, low.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Wh<strong>at</strong> about me? Where is my glass?<br />
The song starts aga<strong>in</strong>. The two resume their activity, look <strong>at</strong> T<strong>in</strong>a and smile to her.<br />
The girl’s face changes show<strong>in</strong>g slight fear. F<strong>at</strong>her <strong>in</strong>troduces her to his new wife. The<br />
song is diffuse, very low.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: She is Dana, you’ll get along very well.<br />
The song volume turns on. The girl’s face is amazed and she almost cries. One can notice<br />
from her expression th<strong>at</strong> she lives all this as a shock. She leaves sadly, mov<strong>in</strong>g away.<br />
The song cont<strong>in</strong>ues till the end of this scene. The light on stage starts decreas<strong>in</strong>g its <strong>in</strong>tensity,<br />
becom<strong>in</strong>g more and more diffuse. At the same time, the slight lum<strong>in</strong>ous area<br />
focuses on T<strong>in</strong>a, while she moves away from the two and goes towards the door on the<br />
left. When she reaches the door to exit, the stage is <strong>cover</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> darkness.<br />
SCENE III<br />
The group<br />
Action takes place <strong>in</strong> a house basement. There is a bar here. The bar comprises<br />
also a place where t<strong>at</strong>toos are made. It is a place hidden amid the centre of<br />
Bucharest, common among a certa<strong>in</strong> genre. A gang of pretty weird teenagers always<br />
comes here. They are teenagers from T<strong>in</strong>a’s neighbourhood. Recently the<br />
girl has started go<strong>in</strong>g out with them quite often. It’s l<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong> the even<strong>in</strong>g. The youngsters<br />
g<strong>at</strong>hered as usual and they have <strong>in</strong>vited T<strong>in</strong>a too.<br />
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Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
In the back there is the curta<strong>in</strong>. Visual messages are presented on it (from the<br />
beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g till the end of this scene).<br />
In the middle: A coach and an armchair. Empty bottles and smoked cigarettes<br />
are around it. In front of the couch there is a table with a dirty ashtray and some<br />
spilt liquid.<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral right: a table and a chair.<br />
Costumes<br />
The boys wear large tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g trousers, vests or old T-shirts. The girls wear<br />
jeans or short shorts, large T-shirts and canvas sport shoes. They all use the black<br />
eye l<strong>in</strong>er. The t<strong>at</strong>toos guy wears a tight black vest and some jeans, and canvas sport<br />
shoes.<br />
Stage clues<br />
On the couch, there are four friends (boys), there are two more stand<strong>in</strong>g<br />
(girls). The t<strong>at</strong>too guy sits alone <strong>at</strong> the table and when T<strong>in</strong>a comes to him he<br />
moves his chair to be nearer her. He takes deep smokes from his cigarette, puff<strong>in</strong>g<br />
them out slowly and star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> T<strong>in</strong>a. The stage is flooded by diffuse and differently<br />
coloured lights.<br />
From the left side, light is turn on to a diffuse <strong>in</strong>tensity. The first message<br />
shown on the curta<strong>in</strong>: «You can never make the same mistake twice. Because the<br />
second time you make it it’s not mistake, it’s a choice». Simultaneously music is<br />
heard: P<strong>in</strong>k – Raise your Glass. Under this light, with music <strong>in</strong> the background,<br />
the weird group (already on the stage) can be seen. She goes along the group, as if<br />
sway<strong>in</strong>g around the room look<strong>in</strong>g for someth<strong>in</strong>g. She enters the group. They offer<br />
her a lit jo<strong>in</strong>t tell<strong>in</strong>g her.<br />
A weird guy: Welcome my baby!<br />
The group starts danc<strong>in</strong>g on the music. The girl takes the jo<strong>in</strong>t and puffs it several<br />
times. She coughs once, but she keeps on smok<strong>in</strong>g it. She smiles pla<strong>in</strong>ly and sourly. Under<br />
the effect of marijuana, she starts danc<strong>in</strong>g. Seem<strong>in</strong>g drugged she goes towards a<br />
table. A boy mak<strong>in</strong>g t<strong>at</strong>toos is there. He asks her.<br />
The guy: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you enjoy<strong>in</strong>g this very m<strong>in</strong>ute?<br />
She shows him the jo<strong>in</strong>t – now the song changed: V. Spike – «The Roads». In the<br />
background only the chorus can be heard: «we are all <strong>in</strong> a bulk and t<strong>at</strong>tered… if we<br />
433
don’t arrive back the way we left…» The boys take her danc<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> turns and repe<strong>at</strong><br />
this chorus. The music rema<strong>in</strong>s <strong>in</strong> the background, all the others dance around.<br />
Noi suntem pe drum, venim acum, as¸tept<strong>at</strong>¸i-ne<br />
Nu suntem departe, tre să văspun<br />
Că suntem tot¸i grămadă s¸i suntem praf<br />
Ni se rupe dacă n-ajungem cum am plec<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Noi suntem pe drum, venim acum, as¸tept<strong>at</strong>¸i-ne<br />
Nu suntem departe, tre să văspun<br />
Că suntem tot¸i grămadă s¸i suntem praf<br />
Ni se rupe dacă n-ajungem cum am plec<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Transl<strong>at</strong>ion: We are on the way, we’re com<strong>in</strong>g now, wait for us / We are not<br />
away, I must tell you / We are all <strong>in</strong> a bulk and t<strong>at</strong>tered / We don’t give a damn<br />
if we don’t arrive back the way we left.<br />
Music stops suddenly, as well as the rest of the characters. The song is changed with a<br />
new one: Br<strong>in</strong>g Me to Life – Evanescence. The light rema<strong>in</strong>s diffuse. T<strong>in</strong>a sits down<br />
on a chair, stretches her neck towards him (the weird guy th<strong>at</strong> makes t<strong>at</strong>toos) and let<br />
him t<strong>at</strong>too her (on the left side of her neck). The guy laughs languidly and sardonically.<br />
The t<strong>at</strong>too he draws is a marijuana leaf. Another strong light moves over the two.<br />
SCENE IV<br />
The classroom and the Logics class<br />
Action takes place with<strong>in</strong> the high <strong>school</strong> T<strong>in</strong>a studies <strong>at</strong>. For some time, the<br />
girl has started skipp<strong>in</strong>g classes a lot. As holiday was gett<strong>in</strong>g near, she nonetheless<br />
decided to come to <strong>school</strong>, though with not too much <strong>in</strong>terest.<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral left: a table (the teacher’s desk) and a chair. A blackboard (flipchart)<br />
next to it. There is a marker on the teacher’s desk.<br />
At the back, a collective image of a class with students <strong>in</strong> uniforms will be projected<br />
on the curta<strong>in</strong>.<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral right: seven chairs and small desks.<br />
434<br />
Costumes<br />
The teacher: suit (trousers, shirt, co<strong>at</strong> and shoes).
The students: white shirt, trousers/ skirts, girls wear a slight make-up.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: jeans, T-shirt, canvas sport shoes, strong eyel<strong>in</strong>er make-up, mobile<br />
phone <strong>in</strong> sight, on the desk.<br />
Stage clues<br />
There are seven students, mostly girls. One of the students is her class m<strong>at</strong>e Lizi.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a will be alone <strong>at</strong> her desk.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or re-enters the stage. He is a student (a youngster), who gets out from his<br />
desk and presents the story.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: After a long period of skipp<strong>in</strong>g <strong>school</strong>, when show<strong>in</strong>g up, T<strong>in</strong>a<br />
decides particip<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g to one of th<strong>at</strong> day classes.<br />
Then the narr<strong>at</strong>or retre<strong>at</strong>s to his se<strong>at</strong>, moment when the action is resumed. Dur<strong>in</strong>g his<br />
monologue, the group made up of teacher and students is still, as <strong>in</strong> a photograph.<br />
The teacher [enter<strong>in</strong>g the classroom]: Good afternoon! Good afternoon! How are<br />
you today? It’s a beautiful day. You’ve been wait<strong>in</strong>g for the Logics class with<br />
<strong>in</strong>terest, haven’t you?<br />
Student [whisper<strong>in</strong>g to another one]: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you do<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
The teacher [stretches himself a little towards the student]: Ask me wh<strong>at</strong> I am do<strong>in</strong>g<br />
too! [he smiles]. Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! How sweet!<br />
Student [slowly]: Excuse me…<br />
The teacher [walk<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> front of the classroom]: Today we must do some exercises.<br />
As we have a new lesson, we have new exercises too… [the student yawns,<br />
the teacher notices him] Wh<strong>at</strong>? Don’t you like new exercises?<br />
Student: No!<br />
The teacher: Why don’t you like them? Are you bored, is holiday com<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Come on, you should bear it just a little more. Let’s see… Who wants to come<br />
to the blackboard? Let’s see the c<strong>at</strong>alogue… Who doesn’t have grades?<br />
Student: Me! I want a grade!<br />
The teacher surveys the student smil<strong>in</strong>g. Then he goes towards his desk. He sits down<br />
and takes the c<strong>at</strong>alogue.<br />
The teacher [from his desk, turn<strong>in</strong>g over the c<strong>at</strong>alogue pages]: How come you<br />
don’t? Let me see… Ah, yes! You were absent, but there is someone else who<br />
has no grade. [he turns around to T<strong>in</strong>a] Yes… Miss Crist<strong>in</strong>a Mihăilescu. You<br />
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must show me your skills. [class is noisy, laugh<strong>in</strong>g] Ionescu, if you get bored,<br />
you can help Crist<strong>in</strong>a for my part.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: I don’t need it! [ironically] So… Wh<strong>at</strong> shall I write?<br />
The teacher: The exercise is the follow<strong>in</strong>g [the teacher writes someth<strong>in</strong>g on the<br />
blackboard]. Ok. Th<strong>at</strong>’s it! Let’s support your colleague.<br />
Student 2 [ironically]: Look, man, she knows this!<br />
Student 1 [ironically]: Yes…<br />
Student 2 [ironically, chuckles]: This one came to <strong>school</strong>…<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [turns around nervously]: But who do you th<strong>in</strong>k I am? Wh<strong>at</strong>? Am I yourself?<br />
[she stops from writ<strong>in</strong>g].<br />
The teacher: Please, let her work… Yes, well done! Haven’t you done your<br />
homework?<br />
Student 1: She doesn’t do her homework! And she always skips <strong>school</strong>!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Shut up!<br />
The teacher: And how do you know?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [ironically]: Maybe because he skips classes with me…<br />
Student: Look how she comes dressed! Wh<strong>at</strong> trousers she has…<br />
The teacher: Dur<strong>in</strong>g break you can admire her trousers, boots, wh<strong>at</strong>ever you<br />
want. Silence now! T<strong>in</strong>a, you did gre<strong>at</strong>! You should come aga<strong>in</strong> to the Logics<br />
class. You have lots of absences. Why have you been absent so long?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a looks someplace else. It’s clear the question bothers her.<br />
Student: Well, she hangs around with boys!<br />
The teacher [to the student]: Well I also saw you play<strong>in</strong>g snooker. So, take care!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: May I go to my place?<br />
The teacher: Yes, yes, go. I’ve told you. You’re f<strong>in</strong>e; you should come to the class<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>…<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Yes, maybe… [she pretends pay<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong>tention to a paper she reads].<br />
The teacher: Ok, well, th<strong>at</strong> was all. Have a nice holiday! Take care and… See you<br />
next year! Good bye!<br />
Class: Good bye!<br />
Act<strong>in</strong>g expression of the dialogue between teacher and students has comical accents. Students’<br />
<strong>in</strong>teraction is humorous, through the ironical accents. The whole scene is<br />
comical. The teacher’s voice although ma<strong>in</strong>ta<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g authority and order is warm and<br />
pleasant. The students have fun through the remarks towards T<strong>in</strong>a, hav<strong>in</strong>g a slightly<br />
distracted and amus<strong>in</strong>g air. One colleague (Lizi) stares persistently <strong>at</strong> T<strong>in</strong>a. The<br />
l<strong>at</strong>ter stands up and goes to her annoyed.<br />
436
T<strong>in</strong>a: Why are you star<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> me like this, why?<br />
Lizi [<strong>in</strong>different]: But why? Am I not allowed to look? Who do you th<strong>in</strong>k you are?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Listen, don’t you speak to me like this. Come on, m<strong>in</strong>d your own bus<strong>in</strong>ess<br />
and stop star<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
Lizi: Who the hell are you tell<strong>in</strong>g me wh<strong>at</strong> to do?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Who am I? Who am I? [she seizes her colleague].<br />
Lizi: Take your hands off me!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Hey, take care! You’re noth<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
She pushes her back on her chair. The colleague answers back. The two start fight<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
After some seconds, the others <strong>in</strong>terfere to separ<strong>at</strong>e them. The two look <strong>at</strong> each other<br />
aggressively, while their colleagues can hardly hold them from brawl<strong>in</strong>g even worse.<br />
Colleague Lizi withdraws from the girls hold<strong>in</strong>g her and runs out of the classroom.<br />
She subsequently reappears, followed by the headmaster. In the meantime, there is<br />
still uproar <strong>in</strong> the classroom as students talk frantically.<br />
Headmaster: Th<strong>at</strong>’s enough! Stop quarrell<strong>in</strong>g! Come on: on the left [po<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
the students]… on the right [po<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g to T<strong>in</strong>a]. Wh<strong>at</strong> happened here?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Noth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Headmaster: How is this «noth<strong>in</strong>g»? Come nearer to me! [to T<strong>in</strong>a] Tell me wh<strong>at</strong><br />
happened!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Noth<strong>in</strong>g happened. Do you see anybody hurt?<br />
Headmaster [look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> a different student]: Miss, put th<strong>at</strong> book aside… Ah…<br />
Philosophy!?! Mmm… [buzz <strong>in</strong> the classroom] Th<strong>at</strong>’s enough! Silence!<br />
Headmaster: Come on, Ionescu, tell us wh<strong>at</strong> happened here!<br />
Ionescu: I don’t know… I haven’t seen anyth<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
Headmaster: Wh<strong>at</strong>? I’ve understood they were fight<strong>in</strong>g, pull<strong>in</strong>g their hair!<br />
Where do you th<strong>in</strong>k we are? At the fair!?! We’re <strong>in</strong> a civilized <strong>school</strong>, please<br />
ma<strong>in</strong>ta<strong>in</strong> order and discipl<strong>in</strong>e! Aren’t you ashamed? I’ll speak with your f<strong>at</strong>her<br />
[tell<strong>in</strong>g T<strong>in</strong>a] and with your mother [to the colleague].<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [to her colleague, ironical]: Listen to this, aren’t you ashamed?<br />
Lizi: Me? Aren’t you!?!<br />
Headmaster: Silence, please! Miss Ionescu, put the book down!<br />
Lizi: She won’t tell you anyth<strong>in</strong>g ever! [towards T<strong>in</strong>a] They’re afraid of HER!<br />
Headmaster: Why?<br />
Lizi: She’ll be<strong>at</strong> them up <strong>at</strong> the <strong>school</strong> corner!<br />
Headmaster: Tell me, Miss Mihăilescu, wh<strong>at</strong> happened?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Come on, ma’am! There was no quarrel, noth<strong>in</strong>g! You know how we<br />
are…<br />
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Headmaster: For everybody, I’m the headmaster Mrs. Mândrut¸escu, <strong>in</strong> case you<br />
forgot, Miss! My name is «Mrs. Mândrut¸escu»! I’m not ma’am with you!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [ironical]: Mrs. Mândrut¸escu!<br />
Headmaster: I’ll <strong>in</strong>form your parents about this happen<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Well, as if they care…<br />
Headmaster: Who doesn’t care?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [her face expression changes immedi<strong>at</strong>ely and she goes away]: I have to go!<br />
Headmaster: All right… Go! [to the colleague] You, stay here! I’ll call the parents!<br />
Lizi: Wh<strong>at</strong>? It’s my fault? She’s the only one who…<br />
Headmaster: Enough! I’ve f<strong>in</strong>ished here!<br />
End of scene: students look down, motionless, careless. The headmaster’s voice is<br />
strong, <strong>at</strong> the same time authorit<strong>at</strong>ive and revolted. She speaks firmly and coarsely.<br />
SCENE V<br />
The teachers’ council<br />
Action takes place <strong>in</strong> the high <strong>school</strong> council hall. At the headmaster’s request,<br />
some teachers g<strong>at</strong>her to discuss T<strong>in</strong>a’s situ<strong>at</strong>ion. The headmaster wants a<br />
decision to be taken regard<strong>in</strong>g her.<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral right: some chairs [5-6] <strong>in</strong> semicircle, where teachers will sit.<br />
L<strong>at</strong>eral left: a desk with chair next to it.<br />
Backside left: a door.<br />
Costumes<br />
Headmaster: p<strong>in</strong>k/ orange suit, high heels, lots of jewels.<br />
Teachers: Logics teacher preserves his costume; the rest are casually dressed<br />
(men <strong>in</strong> shirt and jeans, women <strong>in</strong> blouses and trousers/ skirts).<br />
The teacher arriv<strong>in</strong>g l<strong>at</strong>e: blouse and midi skirt, fl<strong>at</strong> shoes, everyth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> pale<br />
colours.<br />
Stage clues<br />
Headmaster will stand on the left of the stage. Dur<strong>in</strong>g her speech, she walks <strong>in</strong><br />
front of the teachers with firm, nervous steps. Sometimes she stops when she has<br />
objections to address to them. She is permanently hold<strong>in</strong>g a pen.<br />
The teacher arriv<strong>in</strong>g l<strong>at</strong>e makes her way through a door from the left side and<br />
will sit on an empty chair.<br />
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Dur<strong>in</strong>g the entire scene, the light is unclear, as the situ<strong>at</strong>ion itself. A tensioned<br />
<strong>at</strong>mosphere is cre<strong>at</strong>ed. The headmaster stays a little <strong>in</strong> the darkness <strong>in</strong> order to <strong>in</strong>crease<br />
the suspense and to offer the audience the clue of wh<strong>at</strong> is about to be decided.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or re-enters the stage. On stage there is the whole council hall where the<br />
headmaster together with some teachers decides T<strong>in</strong>a’s situ<strong>at</strong>ion. Before their dialogue,<br />
the narr<strong>at</strong>or presents the situ<strong>at</strong>ion. Dur<strong>in</strong>g the council meet<strong>in</strong>g, the light is<br />
weaker… a darker <strong>at</strong>mosphere. When T<strong>in</strong>a will enter the stage, <strong>at</strong> the end, dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
her monologue, the entire council hall is <strong>cover</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> darkness, light fall<strong>in</strong>g only on her.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: T<strong>in</strong>a, a little agit<strong>at</strong>ed and sad, awaits the decision <strong>in</strong> front of the<br />
door. But wh<strong>at</strong> the decision will be? Wh<strong>at</strong> will happen to T<strong>in</strong>a? And, ma<strong>in</strong>ly,<br />
wh<strong>at</strong> will her f<strong>at</strong>e be?<br />
The actual dialogue between headmaster and teachers beg<strong>in</strong>. She is very bitter and speaks<br />
on a strong, authorit<strong>at</strong>ive voice. The teachers w<strong>at</strong>ch and, from time to time they<br />
get abashed. The woman seems to have absolute control.<br />
Headmaster: Good afternoon, professors!<br />
Teachers [<strong>in</strong> 3 turns, from various teachers]: Good afternoon!<br />
Headmaster: I want to mention to you this happen<strong>in</strong>g th<strong>at</strong> I s<strong>in</strong>cerely am very<br />
ashamed of. [irrit<strong>at</strong>ed voice] And th<strong>at</strong> I want to solve with your help. Today <strong>at</strong> 4<br />
o’clock I <strong>in</strong>tercepted a reckless fight [accentu<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g the penultim<strong>at</strong>e word]. I’ve never<br />
seen someth<strong>in</strong>g like this <strong>in</strong> my life!!! I got scared. I’m a family woman. In<br />
such a civilized <strong>school</strong>, a reckless fight cannot take place! Do you agree? [the<br />
teachers talk among themselves, look <strong>at</strong> the headmaster] Yes!?! So… Well… Please!<br />
Let’s vote now and see how can we succeed <strong>in</strong> evalu<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g this young lady and<br />
solve the problem. [she bre<strong>at</strong>hes. Resumes, underl<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g each word] Fight… absences…<br />
neglect… Please! [she po<strong>in</strong>ts to the Logics teacher] Speak, professor!<br />
Logics teacher: The student, you know… However, yesterday <strong>at</strong> my class…<br />
Headmaster [<strong>in</strong>terrupts him]: I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k this a civilized <strong>at</strong>titude for <strong>school</strong>! And<br />
this vulgar and violent happen<strong>in</strong>g… cannot take place here! In this <strong>school</strong>!<br />
Logics teacher: Madam, I understand. But we’ll give her a warn<strong>in</strong>g… We’ll dim<strong>in</strong>ish<br />
her behaviour grade 1 …<br />
Headmaster [<strong>in</strong>terrupts him aga<strong>in</strong>]: All right. Shall I assume you’re bivalent? As<br />
<strong>in</strong> life too… [furious look] Good! [roll<strong>in</strong>g her glaze around the hall towards a<br />
teacher] Tell us, please!<br />
Teacher [babbl<strong>in</strong>g]: I… I… absta<strong>in</strong> myself.<br />
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Headmaster: Yes! Better to absta<strong>in</strong> yourself than mak<strong>in</strong>g wrong decisions.<br />
One teacher: However I th<strong>in</strong>k we should talk with her parents… To evalu<strong>at</strong>e<br />
her absences… With dim<strong>in</strong>ish<strong>in</strong>g her behaviour grades…[headmaster <strong>in</strong>terrupts<br />
her].<br />
Headmaster: Let’s vote! I believe everyone agrees, isn’t it?<br />
Another teacher: Yes… I propose to expel her.<br />
Headmaster: Exceptional. I’ll propose you for a salary raise.<br />
Teachers <strong>in</strong> the hall whisper to each other <strong>at</strong> the same time.<br />
Headmaster: Behaviours like this… [as a request] Professors… All right! All<br />
right! I’ll take <strong>in</strong>to account the… [she stops suddenly].<br />
Meanwhile a teacher who is l<strong>at</strong>e enters the hall. Headmaster sees her and says firmly.<br />
Headmaster: Bah!!! Miss Th<strong>in</strong>ly… How good of you!<br />
Teacher: Excuse me, I’m l<strong>at</strong>e. Wh<strong>at</strong>’s this about?<br />
Headmaster: A council, professor… We’re decid<strong>in</strong>g a situ<strong>at</strong>ion; th<strong>at</strong> of student<br />
Mihăilescu.<br />
Teacher: Ah… I know her, Mihăilescu… 10 D.<br />
Headmaster: Th<strong>at</strong>’s her we’re talk<strong>in</strong>g about. We must expel her. Situ<strong>at</strong>ion? I<br />
was <strong>in</strong>formed about a reckless fight… The young lady jumped as a tiger to kill<br />
another young lady, dear colleague. How can we allow someth<strong>in</strong>g like this? In<br />
a civilized <strong>school</strong>? Please!<br />
Teacher: Headmaster, I would need more details.<br />
Headmaster: She slapped her, pulled her hair… Is this relevant?<br />
Teacher: Then let’s take measures for both of them if we do not want violence <strong>in</strong><br />
the <strong>school</strong>.<br />
Headmaster: Aaa… The other young lady was purely surprised by this act of violence.<br />
[fum<strong>in</strong>g towards the other teachers] Do we agree, yes!?!<br />
Teacher: We cannot expel her without hav<strong>in</strong>g a discussion with her parents. We<br />
need to ponder more on the situ<strong>at</strong>ion.<br />
Headmaster: Professor… I know you for so long and I trusted you’d support me<br />
<strong>in</strong> this case.<br />
Teacher: I cannot express any op<strong>in</strong>ion regard<strong>in</strong>g T<strong>in</strong>a until know<strong>in</strong>g her situ<strong>at</strong>ion;<br />
from <strong>school</strong> and from home.<br />
Headmaster [angry]: Good bye! Enough! I’m clos<strong>in</strong>g this case. Professor, you<br />
have a nice career th<strong>at</strong> I th<strong>in</strong>k you should respect. Crist<strong>in</strong>a Mihăilescu, must<br />
be expelled. We do not need violence <strong>in</strong> our <strong>school</strong>!<br />
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Teacher: I imag<strong>in</strong>e the young lady didn’t fight alone…<br />
Headmaster: Well, by vote, I believe everybody agrees. Gre<strong>at</strong>!<br />
Logics teacher [objects]: Headmaster, I’d like to say someth<strong>in</strong>g! The girl has certa<strong>in</strong><br />
abilities… I’ve seen her <strong>in</strong> my class. She’s not such a malevolent child.<br />
Headmaster: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you mean…? Th<strong>at</strong>??? She studies or wh<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Logics teacher: We’d better punish her by dim<strong>in</strong>ish<strong>in</strong>g her behaviour grade.<br />
Let’s give her another chance. This is how we redress her. Let’s look closer <strong>at</strong><br />
the problem!<br />
Teachers <strong>in</strong> the hall (some of the ones present) talk among themselves <strong>in</strong> mutual agreement<br />
to the Logics teacher’s objection. At the same time, the headmaster addresses her<br />
objections to another group of teachers. The teacher seems to speak for himself, <strong>at</strong> the<br />
same time as the headmaster’s vehement voice.<br />
Headmaster [turns around to the Logics teacher]: All right, my dear sir, I’ll also<br />
look closer <strong>at</strong> your situ<strong>at</strong>ion. Everybody wants her to be expelled. And you…<br />
I don’t understand this.<br />
Teacher Th<strong>in</strong>ly: Let’s speak with her parents…<br />
Headmaster [puts her hand on the head]: I have an awful headache… My head<br />
flickers… I have heart problems, Miss.<br />
Meanwhile the teachers talk randomly about their op<strong>in</strong>ions.<br />
Headmaster [to the hall]: So do we agree? Yes!?! [she <strong>in</strong>terrupts the teachers] We’ve<br />
decided the situ<strong>at</strong>ion. We’ve f<strong>in</strong>ished this discussion. Good bye! This student<br />
destroys the reput<strong>at</strong>ion of our <strong>school</strong>. I’m expell<strong>in</strong>g her right now!!! [she<br />
shouts] Tell Mihăilescu to come! [she exits the council hall].<br />
Teachers rema<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> the hall, speechless, motionless.<br />
Headmaster: Miss! Follow<strong>in</strong>g a right and correct [she underl<strong>in</strong>es the two words]<br />
council meet<strong>in</strong>g… Follow<strong>in</strong>g unanimous decisions… [she coughs and stops]<br />
By vote, it wasn’t my decision…<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [<strong>in</strong>terrupts her, on a neutral voice]: I’m sure!<br />
Headmaster: Please, don’t be disrespectful! You are expelled. Good bye!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Ok.<br />
Lights turn off gradually. The scene has situ<strong>at</strong>ion comical accents.<br />
441
SCENE VI<br />
The monologue<br />
Action takes place <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>. T<strong>in</strong>a is alone <strong>in</strong> the classroom. She stares blankly.<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
A table and some sc<strong>at</strong>tered chairs.<br />
Costume<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: jeans, T-shirt, canvas sport shoes, hair <strong>in</strong> a messy bun.<br />
The stage is <strong>in</strong> semi-darkness. Meanwhile a song can be heard <strong>in</strong> the background De<br />
ce – Vama Veche (it plays till the end of the drama). Another light is on T<strong>in</strong>a. At the<br />
end, she is the only one <strong>in</strong> the light; the rest of the hall is <strong>in</strong> darkness. She walks on the<br />
stage with small steps, hold<strong>in</strong>g the mobile phone <strong>at</strong> her back. She looks <strong>at</strong> it, and then<br />
puts it <strong>at</strong> her back. She nervously rubs her hands. She stops suddenly. The mobile<br />
phone falls. She stays straight, and her posture shows surrender. Her hands are free along<br />
her body. She <strong>in</strong>hales and starts speak<strong>in</strong>g slowly (when the song is on lower volume).<br />
This is the time when her monologue beg<strong>in</strong>s.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [monologue]: Mmm… They’ve expelled me… Don’t ask me if it’s right or<br />
wrong, if I deserve to be expelled or not… It doesn’t m<strong>at</strong>ter who is right… All<br />
th<strong>at</strong> m<strong>at</strong>ters is the chance I’ve missed and th<strong>at</strong> I don’t know when and if I’ll get it<br />
back… Right now, however, I’ve lost everyth<strong>in</strong>g: family, friends, even myself…<br />
I thought if I rebelled, the others would hear me… They would see my despair,<br />
would take <strong>in</strong>to account my cry of gett<strong>in</strong>g another chance… Th<strong>at</strong> of gett<strong>in</strong>g off<br />
on the right foot. [light turns off gradually] I’ve condemned all the others for not<br />
help<strong>in</strong>g me… Yet I didn’t do this either… I’ve condemned myself.<br />
When her monologue f<strong>in</strong>ishes, T<strong>in</strong>a rema<strong>in</strong>s <strong>in</strong> the darkness. The song cont<strong>in</strong>ues till<br />
the end.<br />
Notes<br />
1. A semestrial grade, usually is maximum (10), but <strong>in</strong> certa<strong>in</strong> cases of missbehaviour<br />
(stipul<strong>at</strong>ed by the <strong>school</strong> regul<strong>at</strong>ion) it can be lower.<br />
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Grafitti sketch<br />
COORDINATOR<br />
teacher Cor<strong>in</strong>a Popescu, teacher Garofit¸a Iancu,<br />
«Octav Onicescu» N<strong>at</strong>ional College, Bucharest<br />
CO-AUTHORS<br />
9th E grade students, «Octav Onicescu» N<strong>at</strong>ional College, Bucharest<br />
Characters<br />
One act play<br />
Gelu Goldis¸, student <strong>in</strong> the 9th grade of a Bucharest college.<br />
Gelu’s grandma, his f<strong>at</strong>her, the teacher, as if they were on stage.<br />
SCENE I<br />
Gelu and grandma<br />
Grandma’s home, modest, a simple kitchen table, some chairs, a green plant <strong>in</strong> a pot,<br />
a w<strong>in</strong>dow frame <strong>in</strong> the background. Gelu is dressed <strong>in</strong> large trousers, a shabby Tshirt,<br />
studded bracelet and hair dropp<strong>in</strong>g on his forehead, everyth<strong>in</strong>g black, except the<br />
T-shirt th<strong>at</strong> has violent draw<strong>in</strong>gs with skulls on the front side. He enters with a bored<br />
look, hands <strong>in</strong> his pocket, chew<strong>in</strong>g gum, and then he throws down on a chair, ostent<strong>at</strong>iously<br />
stretch<strong>in</strong>g his legs.<br />
Gelu: ’Morn<strong>in</strong>g! Is coffee ready? I’m meet<strong>in</strong>g the boys today <strong>at</strong> 11… [silence, he<br />
stretches himself, yawns noisily] I was a little l<strong>at</strong>e last night out with the boys, I<br />
hope you didn’t worry as for some time you’ve been spy<strong>in</strong>g on me… Wh<strong>at</strong>’s<br />
new? Have the old folks called you from Spa<strong>in</strong>? Are they still alive? Wh<strong>at</strong> else<br />
are they send<strong>in</strong>g me as I’m already out of f<strong>in</strong>ances? I need money for the «sand-<br />
443
wich» dur<strong>in</strong>g lunch break [he laughs falsely, sarcastically]. You might give me a<br />
slice of salami between bread, as you used to give f<strong>at</strong>her one hundred years ago…<br />
Times have changed, do you understand? We have other needs too!<br />
Artistic ones! But anyway you can’t understand! [sardonically and superiorly distant]<br />
A gener<strong>at</strong>ion of simple-m<strong>in</strong>ded! I need tubes, and pa<strong>in</strong>t sprays, how<br />
many times I have to tell you? [puzzled] How’s this wh<strong>at</strong> do I need them for?<br />
Grafitti is a form of art! [he yells mischievously] Art, yes! And not the bullshit<br />
we’re do<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>! They’re expensive you say? [annoyed] Wh<strong>at</strong> are you here<br />
for? To get me the money, as I’ve already aimed the wagon of a subway tra<strong>in</strong> to<br />
decor<strong>at</strong>e – large surface, f<strong>in</strong>ish<strong>in</strong>g possibilities, outl<strong>in</strong>e draw<strong>in</strong>g… [as if dream<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
draw<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> the air, with large movements] So make a collection! Tonight I’m<br />
go<strong>in</strong>g to «solve» it! [he widely opens his eyes, mimick<strong>in</strong>g surprise] School? Wh<strong>at</strong> is<br />
th<strong>at</strong>? I’ve already had the <strong>school</strong> of life, the other one bores me to de<strong>at</strong>h: fixed<br />
schedule, crazy personnel, retarded br<strong>at</strong>s … [laughs foolishly about the pun]<br />
Don’t pester me! I go there from time to time, so they didn’t pronounce me<br />
miss<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> action. They get me back anytime, as ten grades seem to be compulsory.<br />
[he sips noisily from the cup] Wh<strong>at</strong> shall I do from next year? I’ll see by then,<br />
wh<strong>at</strong> am I, a clairvoyant? Let us pass this apocalypse too and then we’ll talk. [the<br />
phone r<strong>in</strong>gs, short break, listens to the talk, makes signs, <strong>at</strong> a certa<strong>in</strong> time – no, no!<br />
then whisper<strong>in</strong>g] Are they my old folks? Tell them I’m <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>! At <strong>school</strong>,<br />
can’t you hear? Don’t do this to me, please! I’ll be cut out of funds. I’ll be good,<br />
I promise, I’ll go to <strong>school</strong> too. Don’t hang up, I’m begg<strong>in</strong>g you! [he falls sobb<strong>in</strong>g<br />
on the chair, then, suddenly, goes towards the w<strong>in</strong>dow, places a stool and<br />
climbs onto the sill] If you don’t call them back to tell them everyth<strong>in</strong>g is all<br />
right, I’ll go to Spa<strong>in</strong>… fly<strong>in</strong>g! [he puts one foot outside the w<strong>in</strong>dow sill].<br />
SCENE II<br />
Gelu and his f<strong>at</strong>her<br />
The same sett<strong>in</strong>g. The door bell r<strong>in</strong>gs. Gelu goes and opens the door without look<strong>in</strong>g<br />
through the eyehole. Total surprise, confusion, lies and exculp<strong>at</strong>ion. Gelu goes from<br />
the previously menac<strong>in</strong>g tone to a sweet, <strong>def</strong>ensive one.<br />
Gelu [with an overload of gestures, of a nervous politeness]: Dad, wh<strong>at</strong> a surprise!<br />
I’m so happy you’ve come! Has mum rema<strong>in</strong>ed there? When are you go<strong>in</strong>g<br />
back? About me? Noth<strong>in</strong>g but the best! Hi, hi! Ask grandma too… [he gets<br />
flustered for the scruffy clothes] A, no, not <strong>at</strong> all! This is my home outfit… more<br />
comfortable… Of course, when I go to <strong>school</strong> it’s someth<strong>in</strong>g else. [he quickly<br />
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takes out the earr<strong>in</strong>g, then the studded bracelets and puts them <strong>in</strong> the trousers large<br />
pockets] Wh<strong>at</strong>, am I not l<strong>at</strong>e? Don’t worry, today we don’t do the first two<br />
classes – the teacher has been sick for almost one week, poor th<strong>in</strong>g! Of course<br />
we’re do<strong>in</strong>g the other classes. But accord<strong>in</strong>g to my w<strong>at</strong>ch it’s early. [he looks <strong>at</strong><br />
his w<strong>at</strong>ch, shakes his hand, puts it to his ear, knocks on its glass] It’s set after<br />
Barcelona time. I’ve set it like this, th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g about you! [he smiles falsely, eye<strong>in</strong>g<br />
his grandmother] Shall I get dressed so you can take me to <strong>school</strong> <strong>in</strong> your car?<br />
Aren’t you tired, after all these travell<strong>in</strong>g hours? Dad, leave it for tomorrow!<br />
Today I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to make a huge exception from <strong>at</strong>tend<strong>in</strong>g classes so you<br />
could tell me stories from there, so I could spend some time with you… No?<br />
[baffled, fight<strong>in</strong>g with himself] In fact, you’re right! Tomorrow is a day too!<br />
Ok, I’m tak<strong>in</strong>g my backpack right now. Grandma, where could I have put my<br />
backpack? [he makes desper<strong>at</strong>e and conspir<strong>in</strong>g signs, mean<strong>in</strong>g – I don’t have<br />
someth<strong>in</strong>g like this, <strong>cover</strong> me!]. It must be here somewhere! [he f<strong>in</strong>ds an older<br />
backpack, throws randomly <strong>in</strong> it wh<strong>at</strong>ever he f<strong>in</strong>ds on the cupboard]. The <strong>school</strong><br />
clothes? [he quickly puts on a white T-shirt, and crumples the black one with the<br />
skulls and throws it <strong>in</strong> the backpack, on top of the rest] Perfect for <strong>school</strong>! [he goes<br />
after his f<strong>at</strong>her, towards the door on the left, turns back and grabs a sandwich leftover<br />
from the table, then says apart] Be it, I make a sacrifice today! [to grandma]<br />
All right, you don’t have to worry anymore, I have everyth<strong>in</strong>g under control,<br />
as usual, you should know!<br />
He exits the stage.<br />
SCENE III<br />
Gelu and the teacher<br />
Change of sett<strong>in</strong>g. At <strong>school</strong>. The bell r<strong>in</strong>gs the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g of the classes. Noise. Gelu’s<br />
colleagues, return<strong>in</strong>g from the break, enter the classroom; one bites a croissant, another<br />
one dr<strong>in</strong>ks from a bottle of m<strong>in</strong>eral w<strong>at</strong>er, <strong>in</strong> turmoil.<br />
Gelu [to some of his colleagues, recogniz<strong>in</strong>g them]: Hi, old man! How are you, bro?<br />
Are you ok, partner? Wh<strong>at</strong>’s new on the west front? Has our tutor 1 asked about<br />
me? She’s pronounced me miss<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> action, hasn’t she? [he sees the teacher <strong>at</strong><br />
the end of the hall] Ouch, look she’s com<strong>in</strong>g! [with false consider<strong>at</strong>ion] Good afternoon,<br />
teacher! Yes, I’m sorry, I haven’t <strong>at</strong>tended <strong>school</strong>… You know I had<br />
some family problems, my grandma died and I had to take care of my little sister<br />
as my parents had left to Spa<strong>in</strong>… Of course I have a sister… Mm, <strong>in</strong> fact I<br />
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have two [holds his f<strong>in</strong>gers crossed <strong>at</strong> the back, visible to the public] F<strong>at</strong>her told you<br />
<strong>at</strong> the first parents’ meet<strong>in</strong>g but you may have forgotten… [surprised, see<strong>in</strong>g<br />
his f<strong>at</strong>her climb<strong>in</strong>g the stairs] Dad, I can manage, there’s no need to come with<br />
me; everyth<strong>in</strong>g is ok.<br />
After a pause, while the teacher spoke with the parent and Gelu stared <strong>at</strong> the floor,<br />
played with a pen, press<strong>in</strong>g its end, annoy<strong>in</strong>gly and obsessively, rolled the cap nervously<br />
<strong>in</strong> his hand.<br />
Gelu: F<strong>at</strong>her, forgive me, I’ve said this th<strong>in</strong>g about grandmother as I had some<br />
health problems and I couldn’t come to <strong>school</strong> for a while. I didn’t tell you as<br />
I didn’t want you to worry, as you are far away. From now on, I’ll come each<br />
day. I promise! In fact, every time I’ve come, I got a good mark on the answers<br />
given <strong>in</strong> class, but <strong>at</strong> homework… I’m better <strong>at</strong> draw<strong>in</strong>g. I know it’s a pity, you’re<br />
right, you strive among foreigners for me, and I… I have a good bra<strong>in</strong><br />
and I’m wast<strong>in</strong>g it… But from now on I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to uphold your expect<strong>at</strong>ions!<br />
You’ll see! Start<strong>in</strong>g from tomorrow! As you deserve it, as I deserve it too.<br />
SCENE IV<br />
Gelu and a friend<br />
Gelu speaks on the mobile phone with a friend, dur<strong>in</strong>g the entire scene th<strong>at</strong> takes place<br />
<strong>in</strong> the same classroom sett<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Gelu: It’s over, Beaver! I’m out of the «club», as dad came and dis<strong>cover</strong>ed the whole<br />
th<strong>in</strong>g… [pause] Yeah, th<strong>at</strong>’s it! From now on you’re on your own with<br />
the boys! We cannot see each other but <strong>in</strong> week-ends. And, you’ll laugh, but<br />
I made myself noticed s<strong>in</strong>ce my first day after the big come-back: I’ve got a<br />
high grade <strong>at</strong> Romanian 2 on a draw<strong>in</strong>g! [pause] Wait, man, don’t laugh! It was<br />
a possible illustr<strong>at</strong>ion to a Romanian novel! Th<strong>at</strong>’s it, I found my call<strong>in</strong>g – I’m<br />
go<strong>in</strong>g to be book illustr<strong>at</strong>or! Good for me, you say? Well, for this you have to<br />
read the book, old man, so first I’ll do some research. I’ll get two <strong>in</strong> one, won’t<br />
I? I relax, I do wh<strong>at</strong> I like and I get advantages… for <strong>school</strong>. Well, wh<strong>at</strong> do you<br />
th<strong>in</strong>k, is it worth? I really start enjoy<strong>in</strong>g it. And, so you could marvel to the<br />
end, I’ve received a first order for the the<strong>at</strong>re play sett<strong>in</strong>g of the Christmas production!<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> are you say<strong>in</strong>g? [probably protests are heard on the phone] If we<br />
are meet<strong>in</strong>g tomorrow? No, I cannot, man, I have to do all these. Not even on<br />
Thursday, as we pass to a new subject and I’m the class illustr<strong>at</strong>or, remember?<br />
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I don’t know… Maybe on S<strong>at</strong>urday… No, man, noth<strong>in</strong>g happened to me, I<br />
haven’t gone crazy; I just have work to do. And next week… [he checks his new<br />
notebook] neither! Exams beg<strong>in</strong>! Maybe on holiday… [worried] Beaver, hello,<br />
are you still there? Hello? Hello! [he throws the phone aside] Good riddance! You<br />
can’t understand, «you’re stupid», as one character said… whose character?<br />
I used to know this once… [he starts look<strong>in</strong>g ardently through the textbook].<br />
I’m hav<strong>in</strong>g a memory-slip! But I’ll solve it. Maybe someone is still <strong>at</strong> the<br />
<strong>school</strong> library… Or I’ll look it up on the <strong>in</strong>ternet… Anyway, I have to trim<br />
myself with the subject m<strong>at</strong>ter! [he searches his backpack] And I cannot f<strong>in</strong>d<br />
anyth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> here… Come on, start<strong>in</strong>g with tomorrow I’ll be back among the<br />
liv<strong>in</strong>g! [towards the other colleagues and seem<strong>in</strong>gly towards the whole world]<br />
Folks, take care I’m com<strong>in</strong>g! [he f<strong>in</strong>ds the black T-shirt with skulls <strong>in</strong>side the<br />
backpack, then to a class m<strong>at</strong>e, sitt<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the desk beh<strong>in</strong>d him] Vlad, don’t you<br />
want a T-shirt to add to your collection of oddities? [he laughs bitterly] No, I<br />
don’t need it anymore. Take it and then tell me wh<strong>at</strong>’s our Romanian homework<br />
for tomorrow.<br />
Note<br />
1. Tutor: the teacher <strong>in</strong> charged with one class of students.<br />
2. Romanian language and liter<strong>at</strong>ure classes.<br />
447
School abandon of a 12 year-old girl and the story of her family<br />
COORDINATOR<br />
Oproiu N<strong>at</strong>alia<br />
ASSISTANT<br />
D<strong>in</strong>u Elena<br />
CO-AUTHORS<br />
Hîrtopanu Florent<strong>in</strong>a, Drăgul<strong>in</strong>escu Andreea Mihaela, Munteanu Răzvan Andrei,<br />
Dobre Geo Valent<strong>in</strong>, Dobre Marius Florian, Genunche Bianca Mihaela,<br />
Popa Lucia Ana-Maria, Ungureanu Crist<strong>in</strong>a<br />
Characters<br />
Mother, Mrs. Voicu: 35 years old, strong personality, full of criticism and advice.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her, Mr. Voicu: 40 years old, car<strong>in</strong>g, severe, harsh, full of criticism.<br />
Raluca Voicu: their 12 year-old daughter, beautiful, brown hair, green eyes, slightly<br />
amenable, lov<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Ana Voicu: their 10 year-old daughter, brown hair, green eyes, full of criticism.<br />
Raluca’s friend (Roxana): 12 years old, thorough, but also happy, funny.<br />
Roxana’s boyfriend (Dragos¸): 17 years old, imm<strong>at</strong>ure but responsible, lov<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Ana’s friend (Mihaela): 10 years old, full of advice and criticism.<br />
The headmaster: 45 years old, strong personality, objective, full of advice and<br />
criticism <strong>at</strong> the same time.<br />
The doctor: 48 years old, precautious, car<strong>in</strong>g, full of advice and criticism.<br />
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SCENE I<br />
At home, <strong>in</strong> the kitchen of Voicu family<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Table, glasses, chairs, fruit (apples, bananas, oranges).<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Raluca is twelve years old and she is the elder daughter of Voicu<br />
family; Ana is ten and she is the younger daughter. The girls have a discussion<br />
with their mother <strong>at</strong> home.<br />
Raluca: Mum, I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to Roxana, my colleague, to do a biology project. Byebye!<br />
Mother: All right, you may go, but don’t come home l<strong>at</strong>er than 9 am, as you’ll<br />
upset your dad.<br />
Ana: Can I go also to Mihaela to play?<br />
Mother: Raluca doesn’t go to play; she’s go<strong>in</strong>g to do a biology project. When you<br />
grow up, I’ll let you go too.<br />
Ana: It’s not fair wh<strong>at</strong>’s go<strong>in</strong>g on.<br />
SCENE II<br />
Raluca <strong>at</strong> Roxana’s house<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Clothes everywhere, lipstick, make-up, perfumes, hair spray…<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Raluca arrives <strong>at</strong> Roxana’s house, who <strong>in</strong>vites her to go to a party<br />
to have fun.<br />
Raluca: Hi, Roxy! I’ve come to do the biology project.<br />
Roxana: Hi, Raluca, I’ve already done it. Come with me to a party to have a little<br />
fun! Here you have a dress, make-up, lipstick… put some make-up on and<br />
let’s go!<br />
Raluca: Wait a little! I have to tell mum we haven’t f<strong>in</strong>ished the project and I’m<br />
stay<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> you overnight so she doesn’t worry. [on the phone] Hello! Mum, I<br />
have a lot to write <strong>at</strong> this project and I’m stay<strong>in</strong>g overnight <strong>at</strong> Roxana’s… to<br />
f<strong>in</strong>ish it as I have to hand it <strong>in</strong> until tomorrow… and you know wh<strong>at</strong> my<br />
grades are.<br />
Mother [on the phone]: From my side, you may stay, but wh<strong>at</strong> am I go<strong>in</strong>g to say<br />
to your f<strong>at</strong>her?<br />
Raluca: Do not m<strong>in</strong>d it! You’ll manage it. Bye!<br />
Roxana: Ok, now let’s go to the party.<br />
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SCENE III<br />
The party<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Table, cassette-player, glasses, w<strong>in</strong>e, beer, juices, coke, girls and boys.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Arriv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> the party, she meets Roxana’s neighbour.<br />
Roxana: Raluca, he is Dragos¸, my neighbour.<br />
Raluca: Hi, Dragos¸, nice to meet you!<br />
Dragos¸: Hi, Raluca! Wh<strong>at</strong> a beautiful name…<br />
Roxana: I’ll leave you two alone. I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to dr<strong>in</strong>k someth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Dragos¸: S<strong>in</strong>ce when have you known Roxana?<br />
Raluca: For a long time, we are desk m<strong>at</strong>es.<br />
Dragos¸: Aha…well, then why haven’t I seen you with her <strong>in</strong> the neighbourhood?<br />
Raluca: Well… dad doesn’t quite let me go out. Also I’m study<strong>in</strong>g canto and I<br />
don’t have enough time.<br />
Dragos¸: Do you like s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g? Do you want to become a star?<br />
Raluca: Yes, I like s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g a lot and I need lots of rehearsals to become a star.<br />
Dragos¸: Let’s dr<strong>in</strong>k someth<strong>in</strong>g! Coke, beer, w<strong>in</strong>e… I’m dr<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g w<strong>in</strong>e, do you<br />
want some?<br />
Raluca: Yes. How old are you, Dragos¸?<br />
Dragos¸: I’m seventeen. Wh<strong>at</strong> about you?<br />
Raluca: I’m twelve and I have a sister who is ten.<br />
Dragos¸: I’m the only child. Don’t you want to retre<strong>at</strong> to a quieter place?<br />
Raluca: Yes, I prefer quietness.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Raluca and Dragos¸ retre<strong>at</strong>ed to the bedroom and after two hours<br />
of search<strong>in</strong>g, Roxana f<strong>in</strong>ally f<strong>in</strong>ds them.<br />
Roxana: Where have you been hid<strong>in</strong>g? I’ve looked for you everywhere.<br />
Dragos¸: We retre<strong>at</strong>ed to a more quiet room as the music gave us a headache.<br />
Roxana: Raluca, are you ok?<br />
Raluca: I have a slight headache.<br />
Roxana: Let’s go home! Dragos¸, we’re leav<strong>in</strong>g. Bye!<br />
Dragos¸: Shall I accompany you home?<br />
Roxana: No, thank you.<br />
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SCENE IV<br />
The parent’s dialogue <strong>at</strong> home<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Table, glasses, chairs, the teapot, fruit…<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: While Raluca was <strong>at</strong> the party, her dad returned home from work<br />
<strong>at</strong> 11 am and asked his wife.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Where is Raluca?<br />
Mother: Raluca went to do a biology project <strong>at</strong> Roxana, her colleague.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: And why hasn’t she returned till this hour?<br />
Mother: She called to tell me she hadn’t f<strong>in</strong>ished the project and was stay<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong><br />
Roxana.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: And why haven’t I been <strong>in</strong>formed? I said she wasn’t allowed to sleep<br />
overnight!<br />
Mother: But she’s her <strong>school</strong> m<strong>at</strong>e…<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: I don’t know if the m<strong>at</strong>e is a she… or a he, as I haven’t checked. We’ll see<br />
tomorrow!<br />
SCENE V<br />
Raluca’s return home<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Table, chairs, cups, milk, cereals…<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Next morn<strong>in</strong>g, Raluca came home, while her mum was <strong>at</strong> work.<br />
Raluca: Good morn<strong>in</strong>g, daddy!<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: It’s not good <strong>at</strong> all for you! Listen to me! Where have you been all night?<br />
S<strong>in</strong>ce when are you sleep<strong>in</strong>g overnight <strong>at</strong> your colleagues’?<br />
Raluca: I spoke with mum and she told me I could stay <strong>at</strong> Roxana’s to f<strong>in</strong>ish the<br />
project.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Projects are not done <strong>at</strong> night, but dur<strong>in</strong>g the day. At night you should<br />
come home to sleep so <strong>in</strong> the morn<strong>in</strong>g you go to <strong>school</strong> rested. You’ll be<br />
grounded for this.<br />
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SCENE VI<br />
Raluca is pregnant (news given to Dragos¸)<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Trees, flowers, plants…<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Raluca was feel<strong>in</strong>g very sick <strong>at</strong> home and especially <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>; she<br />
had nausea, she was throw<strong>in</strong>g up, her belly started to grow. Then her friend<br />
Roxana advised her to go to the doctor to see if she was pregnant or to do a<br />
pregnancy test. She didn’t go to the doctor as she should have taken her mother,<br />
but she did a pregnancy test th<strong>at</strong> got positive. She was desper<strong>at</strong>e wh<strong>at</strong> her<br />
parents would say, and ma<strong>in</strong>ly her boyfriend whom she hadn’t seen s<strong>in</strong>ce the<br />
party, as her f<strong>at</strong>her had grounded her. Four-five months had passed s<strong>in</strong>ce the<br />
party and the connection between Dragos¸ and Raluca was through phone only,<br />
as her f<strong>at</strong>her used to take her to and from <strong>school</strong> by car. Raluca thought<br />
about skipp<strong>in</strong>g <strong>school</strong> and meet<strong>in</strong>g Dragos¸ to tell him about pregnancy.<br />
Raluca: Hi, Dragos¸! We have to meet urgently; I have someth<strong>in</strong>g very important<br />
to tell you.<br />
Dragos¸: Ok, we meet <strong>in</strong> 30 m<strong>in</strong>utes.<br />
Dragos¸: Wh<strong>at</strong>’s happened? Why did you want to see me so urgently?<br />
Raluca: We have a problem… I’m pregnant.<br />
Dragos¸: Are you sure? How do you know?<br />
Raluca: I’m very sure. I made the test and it’s positive.<br />
Dragos¸: I love you and I want to keep the baby.<br />
Raluca: And how am I go<strong>in</strong>g to tell my parents about the pregnancy? How will<br />
they react?<br />
Dragos¸: I love you and I want this baby, no m<strong>at</strong>ter wh<strong>at</strong> your folks will say.<br />
Raluca: I love you too and I’ll th<strong>in</strong>k about how to tell them.<br />
Dragos¸: Take care, we’ll speak on the phone.<br />
SCENE VII<br />
The news given to the parents<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Desk, chair, computer, books, notebooks, pencils, pens, bookcase.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Raluca doesn’t know how to tell her parents about the pregnancy,<br />
but they f<strong>in</strong>d out <strong>in</strong>stantly.<br />
Ana: Raluca, why are you upset?<br />
452
Raluca: Do you remember the night I spent <strong>at</strong> Roxana? In fact we didn’t study,<br />
we were to a party where I met a boy named Dragos¸, whom I fell <strong>in</strong> love with<br />
and now I’m pregnant.<br />
Ana: Wh<strong>at</strong> have you said? You’re pregnant? Are you crazy? Are you th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g<br />
about wh<strong>at</strong> dad is go<strong>in</strong>g to do to you?<br />
Raluca: I’m not <strong>in</strong>terested, we love each other and we’ll get married.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Mum <strong>in</strong>terrupts the discussion.<br />
Mother: Wh<strong>at</strong> has happened? Whose marriage are you talk<strong>in</strong>g about?<br />
Ana: Tell mum too wh<strong>at</strong> you’ve told me.<br />
Raluca: Th<strong>at</strong> night I slept <strong>at</strong> Roxana’s to do the project, <strong>in</strong> fact I lied and we went<br />
to a party where I met a boy whom I love and he loves me and now I’m pregnant<br />
and we are go<strong>in</strong>g to get married.<br />
Mother: Wh<strong>at</strong>, you got pregnant? I trusted you…You disappo<strong>in</strong>ted me…Why<br />
have you begun your sexual life <strong>at</strong> just twelve years old? Stupid child!<br />
Raluca: I didn’t want it, but I drank someth<strong>in</strong>g and I don’t remember…<br />
Mother: Why didn’t you tell me when you called, I would have told you how to<br />
protect yourself, there are so many contraceptive methods…<br />
Raluca: We love each other and we’ll get married.<br />
Mother: Are you of a different n<strong>at</strong>ionality or ethnicity, where girls marry and<br />
give birth <strong>at</strong> eleven-twelve years old? You’re Romanian, European; girls get<br />
married after they come of age. After gradu<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g <strong>school</strong> they have a job, build<br />
a career <strong>in</strong> life and only after these they th<strong>in</strong>k about marriage. You’ll see when<br />
you dad f<strong>in</strong>ds out!<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: F<strong>in</strong>d out wh<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Mother: She lied about th<strong>at</strong> biology project when she stayed <strong>at</strong> Roxana’s overnight;<br />
<strong>in</strong> fact she spent the night with a boy… And now she is pregnant with him.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: How could you do someth<strong>in</strong>g like this? Are you out of your m<strong>in</strong>d? Pregnant<br />
<strong>at</strong> 12 years old? Go immedi<strong>at</strong>ely to hospital and have an abortion!<br />
Raluca: I don’t want to have an abortion, I don’t want to kill an <strong>in</strong>nocent child<br />
and now it’s too l<strong>at</strong>e. I love Dragos¸ and we’ll get married.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: You’re gett<strong>in</strong>g married <strong>at</strong> 12? Are you crazy!? First you have to f<strong>in</strong>ish secondary<br />
<strong>school</strong>, high <strong>school</strong>, university and then marry, not now. But if you<br />
want to give birth, you have no place <strong>in</strong> my house… Go to your boyfriend and<br />
stay there! You’re no longer my daughter! You don’t exist for me anymore, as<br />
you didn’t listen to me.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Raluca packs her luggage to go and calls Dragos¸, her boyfriend.<br />
Raluca: Dragos¸, dad found out about my pregnancy and kicked me out of the<br />
house. Wh<strong>at</strong> shall I do?<br />
Dragos¸: No problem, you’ll stay <strong>at</strong> my place. I’m com<strong>in</strong>g to pick you up.<br />
453
SCENE VIII<br />
The meet<strong>in</strong>g with Roxana<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Trees, flowers, plants…<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Raluca moved to Dragos¸. There she gave birth to a boy when she<br />
was thirteen years old. Meanwhile she dropped out of <strong>school</strong>, dedic<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g her<br />
time to rais<strong>in</strong>g the child. But one day, while walk<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> the park with the baby,<br />
she meets Roxana, her colleague.<br />
Roxana: Hi, Raluca! How are you? Why haven’t you come to <strong>school</strong> anymore?<br />
Why have you abandoned <strong>school</strong>? Why haven’t you called me <strong>at</strong> all? Your<br />
parents said you were away. Who’s this baby? He isn’t yours, is he? Or is he?<br />
Didn’t you have an abortion?<br />
Raluca: Too many questions, I’m hav<strong>in</strong>g a headache… He’s my cous<strong>in</strong> and I<br />
have to take him home to his mother. Sorry but I’m <strong>in</strong> a hurry. I’ll call you to<br />
set a meet<strong>in</strong>g. Bye!<br />
SCENE IX<br />
Mum goes to Raluca’s <strong>school</strong> follow<strong>in</strong>g the headmaster’s request<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Desk, computer, agenda, pen, flower pots.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Mum lied to her daughter’s teacher who kept on call<strong>in</strong>g her to ask<br />
about Raluca, th<strong>at</strong> she was abroad with an aunt. The headmaster called her to<br />
come immedi<strong>at</strong>ely to <strong>school</strong> to clarify Raluca’s situ<strong>at</strong>ion.<br />
Mother: Good afternoon, headmaster! I’m the mother of Raluca Voicu and I’ve<br />
come follow<strong>in</strong>g your request.<br />
The headmaster: Good afternoon, Mrs. Voicu! I’ve asked you to come regard<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Raluca’s <strong>school</strong> situ<strong>at</strong>ion of. As you know, Raluca hasn’t come to <strong>school</strong><br />
for a long time, she has many absences and she has to repe<strong>at</strong> the class. I’m sorry<br />
as she is a very good and talented girl, she studies canto, but these are the circumstances.<br />
She doesn’t have grades due to absences <strong>in</strong> the first semester, and<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g the second semester she hasn’t come <strong>at</strong> all.<br />
Mother: Headmaster, you should know: my daughter has abandoned <strong>school</strong> as<br />
she got pregnant, without our knowledge. I believe <strong>in</strong> the meantime she gave<br />
birth… I don’t know anyth<strong>in</strong>g about her… as her f<strong>at</strong>her threw her out of the<br />
house and <strong>at</strong> present she doesn’t live with us; she lives with her boyfriend.<br />
454
The headmaster: How could someth<strong>in</strong>g like this happen to Raluca who is only<br />
12 years old and has such a strict parent?<br />
Mother: She said she was go<strong>in</strong>g to a colleague to do a biology project… Everyth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
happened there… Unfortun<strong>at</strong>ely we also found out too l<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
The headmaster: I’m sorry for all th<strong>at</strong> happened. Maybe you are also too severe<br />
and th<strong>at</strong> is why these th<strong>in</strong>gs have happened. In life we have to offer children<br />
some freedom of knowledge and expression, to differenti<strong>at</strong>e by themselves the<br />
good from the bad. As a consequence of these happen<strong>in</strong>gs, I hope it were a lesson<br />
for Ana.<br />
Mother: We’ll be more careful with her.<br />
The headmaster: Good-bye, Mrs. Voicu! Thank you for be<strong>in</strong>g able to come and<br />
I’m sorry she had to abandon <strong>school</strong>. Now all you can do is to support her<br />
with her talent as she has an amaz<strong>in</strong>g voice.<br />
Mother: Thank you for understand<strong>in</strong>g and your advice. Although he’s a strict<br />
man, I’ll try to communic<strong>at</strong>e efficiently with my husband for Raluca’s benefit.<br />
SCENE X<br />
The sister’s dialogue<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Table, chairs, glasses, appetizers on the table.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Over two years, Raluca comes home while her parents where absent<br />
and is talk<strong>in</strong>g with Ana, her sister, who did the same th<strong>in</strong>g as she… She<br />
got pregnant <strong>at</strong> twelve years old.<br />
Raluca: Ana, how are you? I’ve come to see you as I was miss<strong>in</strong>g you.<br />
Ana: Hi! I don’t feel very well, my belly hurts and I didn’t have my period… I’ve<br />
got nausea… I th<strong>in</strong>k I did the same th<strong>in</strong>g as you, I got pregnant!!!<br />
Raluca: And wh<strong>at</strong> are you go<strong>in</strong>g to do? I hope you don’t plan to have an abortion!?!<br />
Ana: I don’t know wh<strong>at</strong> I’ll do, but I’m sure I won’t do the same th<strong>in</strong>g as you:<br />
dropp<strong>in</strong>g out of <strong>school</strong>! I won’t abandon it. Dropp<strong>in</strong>g out of <strong>school</strong> didn’t<br />
help you.<br />
Raluca: It’s your choice. Do as you want! But th<strong>in</strong>k about it, it’s a baby life <strong>in</strong>volved,<br />
an <strong>in</strong>nocent soul whom you want to kill!<br />
Ana: I’ll th<strong>in</strong>k better about the situ<strong>at</strong>ion I’m <strong>in</strong> now.<br />
Raluca: I’d better leave until our parents return home. Bye and we’ll see each<br />
other! Take care wh<strong>at</strong> you’re do<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
455
SCENE XI<br />
The friend’s dialogue<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Table, chairs, juice bottles on the table, pizza.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Ana went to Mihaela, her friend, to confess a secret.<br />
Ana: Hi, Mihaela! It’s so good we’ve met as I have to tell you a secret and maybe<br />
you can give me an advice.<br />
Mihaela: Wh<strong>at</strong>’s your secret and how can I help you?<br />
Ana: I’m pregnant and I don’t know wh<strong>at</strong> to do… To keep the child or to have<br />
an abortion?<br />
Mihaela: How did you get pregnant? Why didn’t you protect yourself? Do you<br />
want to do as your sister and abandon <strong>school</strong>? Do your parents know?<br />
Ana: No, I don’t know and I don’t want to drop out of <strong>school</strong>. I want to build a<br />
career.<br />
Mihaela: In this case you should talk to your mum and have an abortion.<br />
Ana: Yes, unfortun<strong>at</strong>ely this is the only solution.<br />
Mihaela: As if your f<strong>at</strong>her f<strong>in</strong>ds out he’ll throw you away too as he did with your<br />
sister. Quickly tell your mum and have the abortion!<br />
Ana: I’m go<strong>in</strong>g home right now and I’ll tell mum to go to the doctor.<br />
Mihaela: Ok, Ana! Let me know wh<strong>at</strong> you’ve done. Bye!<br />
Ana: I’ll do this. Bye!<br />
SCENE XII<br />
Mother’s dialogue with Ana<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Table, chairs, pl<strong>at</strong>es, glasses, cutlery…<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Ana comes home <strong>in</strong> a hurry and tells mum the big secret.<br />
Ana: Mum, I have someth<strong>in</strong>g very important to tell you.<br />
Mother: Wh<strong>at</strong> happened?<br />
Ana: We have to go urgently to the doctor as my belly hurts and I have nausea; I<br />
don’t feel very good.<br />
Mother: I hope you’re not do<strong>in</strong>g as your sister, tell<strong>in</strong>g me you’re pregnant?! But you<br />
knew about the contraceptive methods and the condom man has to use when…<br />
Ana: Mummy, I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k I am, I’m just sick. Th<strong>at</strong>’s all.<br />
456
Mother: All right, we’ll see.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Mum tells dad she’s tak<strong>in</strong>g Ana to the doctor as she needs to do<br />
the annual medical tests.<br />
Mother: I’m go<strong>in</strong>g with Ana to the doctor for the annual tests she has to do.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Shall I take you by car?<br />
Mother: No, thank you. We’ll walk to do some exercise.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: All right! Then call me to come after you.<br />
Mother: All right, dear!<br />
SCENE XIII<br />
The visit to the doctor’s<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Desk, prescriptions, pens, computer, sterile gloves, blood-pressure meter,<br />
thermometer, sterile medical tools, bed.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: Mum arrives <strong>at</strong> the gynaecologist’s and enters with Ana.<br />
Mother: Good afternoon, doctor!<br />
The doctor: Good afternoon! Wh<strong>at</strong> is your problem?<br />
Mother: I’ve brought my daughter for a check<strong>in</strong>g as she compla<strong>in</strong>s about abdom<strong>in</strong>al<br />
pa<strong>in</strong>s and she didn’t have her period. I’m afraid she doesn’t do as her<br />
older sister… To get pregnant <strong>at</strong> twelve years old!<br />
The doctor: Twelve years old? So little? How’s this possible? I have to exam<strong>in</strong>e<br />
you. Madam, please go to the wait<strong>in</strong>g room and I’ll let you know after the exam<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ion.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: After ten m<strong>in</strong>utes, the doctor let mother know she can enter the<br />
consult<strong>in</strong>g room.<br />
The doctor: Please, Mrs. Voicu, come <strong>in</strong>! Your daughter is two-month pregnant.<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> are you plann<strong>in</strong>g to do?<br />
Mother: Well, she did just like her sister… Maybe it’s her f<strong>at</strong>her’s fault too as he<br />
kept them <strong>at</strong> home and was too severe with them.<br />
The doctor: Too much severity is no good either, nor too much freedom. The<br />
children should be controlled, checked, not conf<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> the house, as then<br />
they misbehave.<br />
Mother: If her f<strong>at</strong>her f<strong>in</strong>ds out, he’ll throw her out of the house like he did with<br />
her sister. I suggest you do her an abortion.<br />
The doctor: It’s a little risky for such a small age. I’ll do my best to end it well.<br />
From a psychological po<strong>in</strong>t of view, she’s f<strong>in</strong>ished as she kills her own baby.<br />
My advice is to take her to a psychologist after the abortion for her soul peace.<br />
457
Mother: Thank you very much for your advice and suggestions.<br />
The doctor: Ana, please come <strong>in</strong> and tell us wh<strong>at</strong> you’ve decided? I spoke with your<br />
mother; she knows you’re pregnant. You have to take a decision together.<br />
Mother: How could someth<strong>in</strong>g like this happen? Did you follow your sister’s example?<br />
Didn’t you now about the methods of protection? Contraceptives<br />
pills, condoms…<br />
Ana: Mum, stop lectur<strong>in</strong>g me, now th<strong>at</strong>’s too l<strong>at</strong>e! It happened… It’s important<br />
dad doesn’t f<strong>in</strong>d out and to have the abortion done… I don’t want to abandon<br />
<strong>school</strong> like my sister did… I want to cont<strong>in</strong>ue my studies.<br />
Mother: Doctor, please tell me how much it will cost me?<br />
The doctor: The prices are posted on the door.<br />
Mother: Very expensive! But wh<strong>at</strong> shall I do? My daughter’s stupidity must be<br />
paid for.<br />
The narr<strong>at</strong>or: After a couple of hours of wait<strong>in</strong>g, mother enters the consult<strong>in</strong>g<br />
room aga<strong>in</strong> and asks the doctor:<br />
Mother: Doctor, how’s my daughter? Is she well? Can we go home? As her f<strong>at</strong>her<br />
called me to ask why we weren’t go<strong>in</strong>g come home? He’s worried.<br />
The doctor: She’s well now, but before reach<strong>in</strong>g home, stop <strong>at</strong> a drugstore’s and<br />
buy this prescription with antibiotics so she doesn’t get an <strong>in</strong>fection; and I’ve<br />
recommended her some contraceptive pills for the future.<br />
Mother: Thank you very much.<br />
SCENE XIV<br />
The parent’s dialogue<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Table, chairs, beer, glasses…<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Where have you been so long?<br />
Mother: At the medical test… We were wait<strong>in</strong>g for the result…<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: And wh<strong>at</strong>’s wrong?<br />
Mother: She has a slight anaemia. We went to the drugstore too to buy her the<br />
medic<strong>in</strong>e prescribed by the doctor.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Is it serious? Wh<strong>at</strong> medic<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Mother: It’s noth<strong>in</strong>g serious. They are vitam<strong>in</strong>s for strength and iron supplements<br />
for anaemia.<br />
458
SCENE XV<br />
Ana’s meet<strong>in</strong>g with Mihaela<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Trees, flowers, plants…<br />
Ana: Hi, Mihaela. I’ve listened to your advice and I went with mum to the doctor<br />
to have an abortion.<br />
Mihaela: I’m happy you didn’t abandon <strong>school</strong> as your sister did, but I’m sorry<br />
for th<strong>at</strong> <strong>in</strong>nocent baby soul th<strong>at</strong> you killed.<br />
Ana: I know it’s not good th<strong>at</strong> I killed a baby but it was the only way I could cont<strong>in</strong>ue<br />
my studies and build a career l<strong>at</strong>er.<br />
Mihaela: It’s good you can cont<strong>in</strong>ue your studies, as l<strong>at</strong>er on you can have children.<br />
Take care how you protect yourself so it doesn’t repe<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Ana: I’ve got contraceptive pills from the doctor. Bye! Kisses!<br />
Mihaela: Kisses, bye!<br />
SCENE XVI<br />
The sister’s meet<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Desk, computer, notebooks, books…<br />
Raluca: Ana, how are you? Wh<strong>at</strong> have you done with the pregnancy?<br />
Ana: I went to the doctor with mum and I had an abortion.<br />
Raluca: You made a big mistake kill<strong>in</strong>g an <strong>in</strong>nocent soul!<br />
Ana: Yes, I made a mistake but I haven’t abandon <strong>school</strong> as you did. Now I can<br />
build a career… I’ll have a family l<strong>at</strong>er on… not now.<br />
Raluca: Don’t worry, as many talents with no university have become stars.<br />
Thanks to my talent I can also be successful <strong>in</strong> life and become a big star.<br />
Ana: I’m happy for you. Dragos¸ loves you, takes care of you and you’re happy.<br />
Dragos¸: It’s very good you can f<strong>in</strong>ish <strong>school</strong> and build a career.<br />
Raluca: I’m happy th<strong>at</strong> you can cont<strong>in</strong>ue your studies, but <strong>at</strong> the same time I feel<br />
sorry for th<strong>at</strong> baby soul you killed. We’ll talk. Now we’re leav<strong>in</strong>g. Bye!<br />
459
SCENE XVII<br />
The end – dialogue with<strong>in</strong> the family<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Table, chairs, fruit, sweets, jugs, glasses…<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Tak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to consider<strong>at</strong>ion wh<strong>at</strong> happened to your sister, th<strong>at</strong> is abandon<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>school</strong> due to the pregnancy, I don’t want this repe<strong>at</strong> with you too. As<br />
long as you don’t lie to me and you’ll follow your student tasks, I’ll help you<br />
with everyth<strong>in</strong>g you need.<br />
Ana: I won’t abandon <strong>school</strong> as she did. I’ll f<strong>in</strong>ish my studies and only afterwards<br />
I’ll th<strong>in</strong>k about marriage and family.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: I hope it’ll be like this! It’s for your own good.<br />
Mother: I hope it’ll be a lesson for l<strong>at</strong>er on, not mak<strong>in</strong>g the same mistake as your<br />
sister. I believe you have grown up and learnt from mistakes. You know<br />
th<strong>at</strong> say<strong>in</strong>g: «People learn from their mistakes»! I hope it’s valid for you too.<br />
460
Characters<br />
This is not a fairytale<br />
COORDINATOR<br />
Anca Florea, «No Abuse» Associ<strong>at</strong>ion, Bucharest<br />
AUTHOR<br />
Alexandru Stoica, 9 th grade<br />
Spike, a 15 year-old teenager.<br />
Spike’s mother, a hard-work<strong>in</strong>g woman, but bored with life.<br />
Tony, Spike’s best friend and his class m<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Flori, good friend with Tony; <strong>at</strong>tends the same <strong>school</strong>.<br />
Maria, friend and class m<strong>at</strong>e of Flori.<br />
Mr. Badea, Spike’s f<strong>at</strong>her, a money lov<strong>in</strong>g man.<br />
Alexandra, Mr. Badea daughter, Spike’s step- sister.<br />
Cost<strong>in</strong>, Mr. Badea’s son and Alexandra’s brother; also, Spike’s step-brother.<br />
Three students.<br />
The teacher.<br />
SCENE I<br />
Bucharest. Students <strong>in</strong> the 8 th grade 1 are about to have the test. Agit<strong>at</strong>ion. Bustle.<br />
Desks are moved.<br />
Student 1: Man, I need help! Move this desk closer to me!<br />
Student 2: And wh<strong>at</strong> if he c<strong>at</strong>ches on?<br />
461
Student 1: Stay calm… He won’t… Grab this!<br />
Student 3: Not like this… Push a little! Th<strong>at</strong>’s it…<br />
Enters the teacher carry<strong>in</strong>g the tests.<br />
Teacher: Here I am! Come on, th<strong>at</strong>’s enough, silence! Fill <strong>in</strong> the right corner of<br />
your sheet… You know by now… Your name and surname, f<strong>at</strong>her’s and<br />
mother’s name and surname, <strong>school</strong> etc… Don’t make mistakes!<br />
Spike: Wh<strong>at</strong> if I don’t have a f<strong>at</strong>her…<br />
Teacher [bored]: You cross it…<br />
Student 1: This one doesn’t have a f<strong>at</strong>her, man?<br />
Student 2: I don’t know…<br />
Student 3 [laugh<strong>in</strong>g]: Wh<strong>at</strong>’s the big secret, man?<br />
Suddenly Spike stands up and fac<strong>in</strong>g the hall, starts s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g on hip-hop rhythm. Dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
this performance, the stage sw<strong>in</strong>gs, and the <strong>in</strong>door of an apartment shows up <strong>in</strong>stead<br />
of the classroom, <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g the front door too. On the floor there are sc<strong>at</strong>tered papers,<br />
clothes, and dirty pl<strong>at</strong>es.<br />
Spike [s<strong>in</strong>gs on hip-hop rhythm]: S<strong>in</strong>ce I was a kid I’ve lived <strong>in</strong> a secret.<br />
My life… was an accident.<br />
Mother… raised me by herself,<br />
«F<strong>at</strong>her» is not a pleasant word.<br />
I stood strong further on<br />
Th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g «Hope doesn’t die».<br />
And I know I’ll f<strong>in</strong>d out all<br />
This is my only purpose.<br />
Spike enters the house <strong>at</strong> the same time as his mother. She starts g<strong>at</strong>her<strong>in</strong>g the sc<strong>at</strong>tered<br />
papers and the pl<strong>at</strong>es from the floor, while he stares <strong>at</strong> her.<br />
Mother: Spike, wh<strong>at</strong>’s the m<strong>at</strong>ter?<br />
Spike: I’ve wanted to ask you someth<strong>in</strong>g for a long time, but I didn’t have the<br />
courage. Someth<strong>in</strong>g about my f<strong>at</strong>her… I’ve never asked you.<br />
Mother: Wh<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Spike: Where is he? Who is he? And… why did he leave me?<br />
Mother: Why exactly now!?!<br />
Spike: Mum, I’ve been liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a secret for fifteen years. In fact… I’m a secret.<br />
I don’t know my past; I don’t know who I am… I’ve had enough!<br />
462
Mother: Neither do I know very well who he is… I mean I didn’t know… Until<br />
I found out…<br />
Spike: How did you and f<strong>at</strong>her meet?<br />
Mother: I was <strong>at</strong> university… And I met a wonderful man… your f<strong>at</strong>her.<br />
Spike: Did you love f<strong>at</strong>her a lot?<br />
Mother: Yes… but <strong>in</strong> time he changed… We saw each other once <strong>in</strong> a blue<br />
moon… And when I told him I was pregnant…<br />
Spike: He left…<br />
Mother: Yes…<br />
Spike: Why did he left? Why didn’t he want me?<br />
Mother: Because… he also had a secret I found out very l<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Spike: And… wh<strong>at</strong>’s the big secret?<br />
Mother: Wh<strong>at</strong>’s the use <strong>in</strong> know<strong>in</strong>g it?<br />
Spike [as for himself]: Too many secrets… There are too many secrets…<br />
Mother: He had a double life: he already had a family! Spike…<br />
Spike: So… is it possible I have other brothers or sisters!?!<br />
Mother: Yes, probably… But I don’t know anyth<strong>in</strong>g about them.<br />
Spike: But… his family name?<br />
Mother: Badea. Although don’t th<strong>in</strong>k about the man on the 2 nd floor as it’s not<br />
him!<br />
Spike [laugh<strong>in</strong>g]: Th<strong>at</strong> f<strong>at</strong> one? [seriously] And… did you leave it like this? Didn’t<br />
you try to stop him from leav<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Mother: I didn’t know he wanted to leave. He left one night. He just disappeared…<br />
He only left to me the note say<strong>in</strong>g he was leav<strong>in</strong>g; and… th<strong>at</strong> he has<br />
another family.<br />
Spike: You’re say<strong>in</strong>g he was a good man… wonderful, but… Wh<strong>at</strong> good man<br />
would leave his child grow up by himself?!<br />
Mother: You’ll see love is bl<strong>in</strong>d… I loved him back then… But it didn’t count<br />
for him. The other family was more important.<br />
Spike: Mum, I’m decided to look for him!<br />
Mother: Why do you want to look for him if he left you?<br />
Spike: As <strong>in</strong> life everyth<strong>in</strong>g is paid for!<br />
He exits.<br />
Mother: How was your test?<br />
Spike [show<strong>in</strong>g his head through the door]: Good…<br />
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SCENE II<br />
IT&C class. Students are dressed <strong>in</strong> uniforms, while underne<strong>at</strong>h one can see the street<br />
clothes: jeans show<strong>in</strong>g through the unzipped trousers and coloured T-shirts under the co<strong>at</strong>s.<br />
Tony: Spike, my man, let’s play Counter Strike.<br />
Spike: Not now, Tony. Log <strong>in</strong> a little on Facebook.<br />
Tony: Let’s play, man. Wh<strong>at</strong> on earth do you want to do on Facebook?<br />
Spike: I want to see if my f<strong>at</strong>her has pictures.<br />
Tony: Wh<strong>at</strong> f<strong>at</strong>her, man, you don’t know him. Do you know <strong>at</strong> least how he<br />
looks like?<br />
Spike: No, man, but I spoke with mum and I know his name. And I th<strong>in</strong>k he<br />
looks like me.<br />
Tony: And do you really want to look for him? Wh<strong>at</strong> if he’s homeless?<br />
Spike: I may f<strong>in</strong>d my sibl<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>at</strong> least… Would you help me?<br />
Tony: Ok… Facebook it is!<br />
The bell r<strong>in</strong>gs for the break. Many students enter the scene, among them Maria and Flori.<br />
Flori: Tony is cute, isn’t it? Wh<strong>at</strong> do you th<strong>in</strong>k?<br />
Maria: Yes, he is cute. Why, do you want to get together?<br />
Flori: We’re friends… but… I’d like someth<strong>in</strong>g else too…<br />
Maria: Well… try to talk more with him!<br />
Flori: And… wh<strong>at</strong> shall I tell him? Th<strong>at</strong> I like him? It sounds strange…<br />
Maria: Then wait for him to make the first move…<br />
Flori: As far as him, I can wait an eternity… Do you th<strong>in</strong>k he’ll like my new short<br />
jeans?<br />
Maria: I don’t know. Let’s see!<br />
She unzips her uniform skirt and rema<strong>in</strong>s <strong>in</strong> short jeans.<br />
Tony: Hi Flori! How are you?<br />
Flori: I’m f<strong>in</strong>e, I have IT&C classes. How are you?<br />
Tony: I’m go<strong>in</strong>g for a walk with Spike, as our next class is Religion.<br />
Spike draws Tony to one side.<br />
Spike: Who’s the girl next to Flori?!<br />
Tony: She’s her friend. Her name is Maria. Why are you ask<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
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Spike: She’s very pretty and… I don’t know why but… I feel strange.<br />
Tony [laughs]: Maybe you’re <strong>in</strong> love!<br />
Spike: …<br />
They both come closer to Maria and Flori.<br />
Tony: Maria – Spike.<br />
Spike: Nice to meet you.<br />
Maria: Nice to meet you too!<br />
Tony draws Flori to one side and leaves hold<strong>in</strong>g her arm.<br />
Spike: …<br />
Maria: …<br />
Spike: Are you… best friend of Tony?<br />
Maria: Flori is gett<strong>in</strong>g along much better with him. We are just pals.<br />
Spike: Do you th<strong>in</strong>k it’s someth<strong>in</strong>g go<strong>in</strong>g on between them?<br />
Maria: I don’t know for sure, but they spend much time together. I th<strong>in</strong>k Flori<br />
would like it but she wishes Tony would say someth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Spike: I th<strong>in</strong>k he likes her as much as…<br />
Maria: As wh<strong>at</strong>?<br />
Spike: Listen, I’ve been th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g… if you want… to go out for a cake all four of us.<br />
Maria: But I’ve got classes…<br />
Spike: Anyway you don’t do anyth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> IT&C and I have Religion… so…<br />
Maria: I don’t know… If Flori wants too, then we go.<br />
Enter Tony and Flori.<br />
Tony: Have you decided? Are we go<strong>in</strong>g out… «as family»?<br />
Exit all.<br />
SCENE III<br />
Spr<strong>in</strong>gtime. In the park. Spike and Flori sit on a bench… Tony enters.<br />
Tony: Children… I’ve brought you sunflower seeds, juice and… cigarettes just<br />
for parents [he laughs and lights a cigarette].<br />
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The phone r<strong>in</strong>gs. Spike answers.<br />
Spike: Yes, sweetie.<br />
Maria [voice on phone]: How are you, sweetie? Where are you?<br />
Spike: I’m f<strong>in</strong>e… I’m <strong>in</strong> the park with Tony and Flori. We are all here. You<br />
should come too!<br />
Maria: But we are hav<strong>in</strong>g a test! You should come to <strong>school</strong> too!<br />
Spike [recit<strong>in</strong>g]: It’s too nice outside / To stay <strong>in</strong> <strong>school</strong> <strong>in</strong>side…<br />
Maria: I know…but…<br />
Spike: Come on, girl, come! Forget the bloody test!<br />
Maria: I don’t know… Pass me Flori a little.<br />
Flori: Girl, how are you? Are we hav<strong>in</strong>g a test today?!!<br />
Maria: Yes. At Romanian. Aren’t you com<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Flori: I’m with Tony… You should come to stay with Spike… We’ve bought<br />
juice…<br />
Maria: Ok, I’m com<strong>in</strong>g… Anyway, I know noth<strong>in</strong>g much…<br />
Tony takes Spike aside.<br />
Tony: Man, I found him!<br />
Spike: Whom?<br />
Tony: I found your dad on Facebook!<br />
Spike: Are you sure it’s him?<br />
Tony: He looks exactly like you! It must be him! Lucian Badea…<br />
Spike: And…where does he live? Wh<strong>at</strong> does it say?<br />
Tony: Here <strong>in</strong> Bucharest.<br />
Maria [who has entered and stays beh<strong>in</strong>d them]: Who lives <strong>in</strong> Bucharest?<br />
Spike: …<br />
Maria: Spike?<br />
Spike [kisses her]: Sweetie, I’ve missed you… [gives her a hug].<br />
Maria: Stop chang<strong>in</strong>g the subject! It’s a girl, isn’t she?<br />
Spike: No… Come and sit with us! I’ll tell you l<strong>at</strong>er.<br />
The characters freeze, apart from Spike.<br />
Spike [s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g]: I’m not <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> <strong>school</strong> anymore.<br />
I’ve got the affection I’ve dreamt of,<br />
The real family I’ve hoped of,<br />
As if God had comforted me.<br />
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And noth<strong>in</strong>g will pull me to pieces aga<strong>in</strong>.<br />
The aim is strong <strong>in</strong> my m<strong>in</strong>d<br />
And <strong>in</strong> the end f<strong>at</strong>her will see<br />
Th<strong>at</strong> even without him, I’ve still achieved someth<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
SCENE IV<br />
August. Even<strong>in</strong>g. A terrace <strong>in</strong> Bucharest. Spike cleans off the tables. Mr. Badea reads<br />
the newspaper sitt<strong>in</strong>g on one of the chairs.<br />
Spike: Mr. Badea, do you need someth<strong>in</strong>g else after I f<strong>in</strong>ish here?<br />
Mr. Badea: F<strong>in</strong>ish first and then we’ll talk.<br />
Alexandra [enters]: Dad, mum calls you <strong>in</strong> the kitchen.<br />
Mr. Badea stands up and exits.<br />
Alexandra: Spike, shall I help you to f<strong>in</strong>ish more quickly?<br />
Spike: No, I can manage.<br />
Alexandra: Anyway I don’t have anyth<strong>in</strong>g to do…<br />
Spike: Ok… Then you can clean off those cups…<br />
Alexandra breaks one cup and bends over it.<br />
Spike: A… Let me help you. Careful you don’t cut yourself!<br />
Alexandra: I’m sorry… I hope dad won’t get angry with you.<br />
Spike: It’s noth<strong>in</strong>g [he kisses her on the cheek].<br />
Alexandra: And… your girlfriend doesn’t m<strong>in</strong>d?<br />
Spike: I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k so…<br />
Mr. Badea enters. Alexandra exits with the cups.<br />
Spike: Look, I’ve f<strong>in</strong>ished. Do you need anyth<strong>in</strong>g else?<br />
Mr. Badea: No. Thanks for your help.<br />
Spike: Wh<strong>at</strong> time shall I come tomorrow?<br />
Mr. Badea: Tomorrow it’s closed. I’m tak<strong>in</strong>g my family out fish<strong>in</strong>g. Maybe you<br />
can come too…<br />
Spike: Yes…I’d love to. Thanks a lot for the <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>ion!<br />
Mr. Badea: Ok. Be here tomorrow <strong>at</strong> 5!<br />
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Spike: Is… Alexandra com<strong>in</strong>g too?<br />
Mr. Badea [laugh<strong>in</strong>g]: Yes, she’s com<strong>in</strong>g too.<br />
Spike: I see. Good even<strong>in</strong>g! See you tomorrow.<br />
Exits Spike.<br />
Mr. Badea: Mai Alexandra, come here a little to talk with you!<br />
Alexandra [from the backside]: Yes, daddy, tell me [she enters].<br />
Mr. Badea: I’ve seen you hang about Spike a lot.<br />
Alexandra: Well… yes…<br />
Mr. Badea: Do you like the guy?<br />
Alexandra: Honestly… daddy… yes. I th<strong>in</strong>k he’s a very good guy. [to herself] As<br />
if I know him for a long time…<br />
Mr. Badea: Yes, he’s a good guy… hard work<strong>in</strong>g. And he doesn’t cost me a lot…<br />
It would be good for me hav<strong>in</strong>g him around…<br />
Alexandra: Mean<strong>in</strong>g…Wh<strong>at</strong> are you say<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Mr. Badea: Noth<strong>in</strong>g, only th<strong>at</strong> it seems to me you get along well…<br />
Alexandra [quickly]: Yes. We get along very well!<br />
Mr. Badea [th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g]: I’d like your brother to be as hard work<strong>in</strong>g as he is…<br />
Mr. Badea exits. Spike enters from the right corner of the terrace. Alexandra rema<strong>in</strong>s<br />
on the left side. They both s<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Alexandra: I’m head over heels <strong>in</strong> love…<br />
Spike: Will my secret be found?<br />
Alexandra: I feel he’s hid<strong>in</strong>g me someth<strong>in</strong>g…<br />
Spike: I wonder if she knows already.<br />
Alexandra: I don’t know why but I feel strange.<br />
Spike: She’s the sister I’ve dreamt of…<br />
Alexandra: And soon I’d have to tell him…<br />
Spike: Th<strong>at</strong> I’m actually her brother.<br />
SCENE V<br />
MacDonald’s. Afternoon time. Maria and Flori sit down on chairs <strong>at</strong> the terrace.<br />
Flori: Listen, girl, did Spike pass the class?<br />
Maria: No… he failed. He spends more time with you than <strong>in</strong> <strong>school</strong>…<br />
468
Flori: He doesn’t spend time with us either… He’s busy with someth<strong>in</strong>g else all<br />
the time.<br />
Maria: I’ve also noticed he has someth<strong>in</strong>g on his m<strong>in</strong>d. When I asked him, he<br />
told me he had someth<strong>in</strong>g important to do and he wasn’t <strong>in</strong>terested whether<br />
repe<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g the year…<br />
Flori: I have failed M<strong>at</strong>hs and Geography. I hope to pass them.<br />
Maria: You should pass them, girl, so we’d be classm<strong>at</strong>es next year too!<br />
Flori: Anyway, if I fail I’ll be <strong>in</strong> the same class as Tony… [she smiles dream<strong>in</strong>gly].<br />
Maria: How much you love each other…<br />
Enter Spike hold<strong>in</strong>g Alexandra by hand, Mr. Badea and Cost<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Cost<strong>in</strong>: Do ice cream and fish go along?<br />
They all laugh.<br />
Mr. Badea: Come on, sit down <strong>at</strong> a table. Wh<strong>at</strong> do you want to e<strong>at</strong>?<br />
They start pull<strong>in</strong>g chairs and sit down.<br />
Flori [open-mouthed]: Listen… Isn’t th<strong>at</strong> Spike?<br />
Maria: Which one?!<br />
She turns around and looks where Flori is star<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Maria [as if to herself, recites on hip-hop rhythm]: I can’t believe it / He che<strong>at</strong>ed on<br />
me, / When everyth<strong>in</strong>g was perfect!<br />
She stands up and passes by Spike <strong>in</strong> a hurry. Spike sees her and stands up <strong>in</strong> his turn.<br />
Spike: Maria!?! Wait!<br />
Maria [on hip-hop rhythm]: I don’t want to hear, it’s enough wh<strong>at</strong> I see! / So clear<br />
you’ve answered to me now!<br />
From now on all characters s<strong>in</strong>g on hip-hop rhythm.<br />
Flori: Leave her alone, Spike!<br />
Alexandra: Who’s she?!<br />
Flori: You be quiet, and stay aside!<br />
Alexandra: Hey, I want to know wh<strong>at</strong> happened! / Wh<strong>at</strong> trouble I got myself <strong>in</strong>to.<br />
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Spike takes Maria’s hand.<br />
Spike: Immedi<strong>at</strong>ely I’ll expla<strong>in</strong> everyth<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Mr. Badea: Come on, let me hear!<br />
Everybody [except Maria]: Yes, come on!<br />
Maria: Wh<strong>at</strong>ever you say it’s useless!<br />
She is about to leave.<br />
Spike: Wait, / Don’t go away, / At least listen to my story!<br />
Mr. Badea [stamps his foot]: No m<strong>at</strong>ter wh<strong>at</strong> you say, you’re fired!<br />
Spike: Dad, take care not to have a heart-<strong>at</strong>tack!<br />
All: Dad!?!<br />
Alexandra [look<strong>in</strong>g <strong>at</strong> Mr. Badea]: Dad? Is this true? Th<strong>at</strong> is Spike is…<br />
Spike [to Mr. Badea]: You thought you got rid of me. / But let me tell you someth<strong>in</strong>g:<br />
you’re wrong. / Don’t forget, <strong>in</strong> life everyth<strong>in</strong>g is paid for! / I’m here to<br />
rem<strong>in</strong>d you th<strong>at</strong>!<br />
Alexandra: I fell <strong>in</strong> love with my brother… / F<strong>at</strong>her, you lied to me!<br />
Mr. Badea: I don’t account to anybody! / Unless <strong>in</strong> front of God… / Do you<br />
th<strong>in</strong>k you’ve solved someth<strong>in</strong>g / By mock<strong>in</strong>g my family?<br />
Spike: I wanted them to see who you really are / Maybe you don’t love them either…<br />
Alexandra: I don’t know wh<strong>at</strong> to th<strong>in</strong>k anymore…<br />
Mr. Badea: Yes, maybe I did wrong with you, / But I loved my children!<br />
Cost<strong>in</strong>: Who’s this and wh<strong>at</strong> does he want?<br />
Mr. Badea: Maybe he wants my fortune…<br />
Alexandra: I can’t believe you’re th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g like this!<br />
She goes next to Spike.<br />
Spike: In my life I’ve learnt / Th<strong>at</strong> happ<strong>in</strong>ess has never been bought!<br />
Maria: I’m sorry I haven’t listened to you! / I really didn’t know wh<strong>at</strong> had happened.<br />
/ But I want to tell you th<strong>at</strong> I love you!<br />
Spike: I love you too!<br />
Spike and Maria [together]: I promise not to make mistakes aga<strong>in</strong>!<br />
They kiss. Maria is cry<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
470
Spike [to Mr. Badea, and hold<strong>in</strong>g Maria by hand]:<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> you’ve done I hope you’ll regret!<br />
All these are not fairytales!<br />
It’s a cruel world, full of bad people.<br />
Unfortun<strong>at</strong>ely, you’re one of them!<br />
But <strong>at</strong> least I’ve gotten closer to my sister,<br />
After all this time, I can say I’m relieved.<br />
And… let me tell you someth<strong>in</strong>g else:<br />
My friends became my family!<br />
Time has come for me to leave, farewell.<br />
Maybe now you will not forget about me aga<strong>in</strong>…<br />
Spike, Maria and Flori exist together.<br />
Notes<br />
1. The last grade of the gymnasium (around the age of 14); <strong>at</strong> the end of the 8 th grade<br />
students generally go to high <strong>school</strong>.<br />
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Everyth<strong>in</strong>g is paid for<br />
COORDINATORS<br />
Georgeta Cristea – teacher, School no. 1, School no. 2 and School no. 6, Oltenit¸a,<br />
Mar<strong>in</strong>a Ruse – teacher, «Ion Ghica», voc<strong>at</strong>ional <strong>school</strong>, Oltenit¸a<br />
Characters<br />
CO-AUTHORS<br />
Paraschiv Adrian Flor<strong>in</strong>, Velicu Daniel Cristian,<br />
«Spiru Haret» <strong>school</strong>, Oltenit¸a<br />
Daniel, student, 15 years old, home alone, parents left to Spa<strong>in</strong> for work.<br />
Adrian, friend of Daniel, 17 years old, modernly dressed.<br />
Paul, friend of Daniel, 17 years old, modernly dressed.<br />
Andreea, friend of the three boys, 17 years old, <strong>in</strong> a provoc<strong>at</strong>ive outfit.<br />
The English teacher, 45 years old, a solemn guy.<br />
Cristian, Daniel’s uncle, his mother’s brother, 38 years old, worker with a<br />
hard job, has recently f<strong>in</strong>ished high <strong>school</strong> <strong>in</strong> even<strong>in</strong>g classes.<br />
Policemen.<br />
The old neighbour lady, <strong>in</strong> home outfit, with rolls <strong>in</strong> her hair.<br />
The neighbour’s husband, also old, home outfit.<br />
SCENE I<br />
At Daniel’s house <strong>in</strong> the liv<strong>in</strong>g room where there is a couch, a coffee table, an armchair,<br />
the desk, the musical system and other objects and decor<strong>at</strong>ions typical for a modest liv<strong>in</strong>g<br />
room. Daniel enters with bags of bread, milk, detergent, opens them and arranges<br />
them <strong>in</strong> their proper place. He turns on his cd-player and listens to music while g<strong>at</strong>her<strong>in</strong>g<br />
the laundry for wash<strong>in</strong>g up. He quickly tidies up and cleans the house a little. He sits<br />
472
down <strong>at</strong> the desk and studies the timetable, opens <strong>school</strong> books try<strong>in</strong>g to study, without<br />
much enthusiasm, for the subjects he doesn’t have grades for. The mobile phone r<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
Daniel: Hi, Adrian!<br />
Adrian: How are you, buddy? How’s your life? You don’t show any signs!<br />
Daniel: Wh<strong>at</strong> can I say? I was a little busy; you know my folks are away!<br />
Adrian: Well, this is gre<strong>at</strong>, bro!<br />
Daniel: Yes and no! Tell me how I can help you!<br />
Adrian: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you do<strong>in</strong>g right now?<br />
Daniel: I was try<strong>in</strong>g to study for English! I don’t have any grades as I’ve skipped<br />
some classes and the teacher didn’t have when to listen to me.<br />
Adrian: Come on, bro! Stop talk<strong>in</strong>g about study<strong>in</strong>g! I want to come up to your<br />
place!<br />
Daniel: When?<br />
Adrian: Now! I’m <strong>in</strong> the neighbourhood!<br />
Daniel [stands up from the desk, closes the books]: Ok, come up!<br />
The bell r<strong>in</strong>gs. Daniel goes and opens the door. Adrian enters accompanied by Paul<br />
and Andreea.<br />
Adrian, Paul, Andreea: Surprise!!!!!!<br />
Daniel: Hi! [he shakes hands with everybody] It’s quite a surprise!<br />
Adrian: We’ve f<strong>in</strong>ished classes earlier and we were <strong>in</strong> the mood for some fun!<br />
Paul: And the truth is we haven’t met for two weeks…<br />
Andreea: And I really wanted to see where you live.<br />
Daniel: Make yourself comfortable! This is my house, but it seems too big for<br />
me s<strong>in</strong>ce my folks left. It’s not quite simple to take care of a house and yourself<br />
on your own, but I’m try<strong>in</strong>g to cope with it. Uncle Daniel, my mother’s<br />
brother, helps me sometimes.<br />
Andreea: I’m already bored with the household, although I’m only help<strong>in</strong>g<br />
mum! I dream of hav<strong>in</strong>g a housekeeper who will do everyth<strong>in</strong>g! I’ll spend my<br />
time <strong>at</strong> the hairdresser’s, <strong>at</strong> the massage centre and ma<strong>in</strong>ly <strong>at</strong> shopp<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
Paul: At my house grandma does everyth<strong>in</strong>g. My folks are <strong>at</strong> work all day long.<br />
Daniel: Mum and dad left as they didn’t have a choice. They didn’t have where<br />
to work here. They only found temporary jobs with very little money. I agreed<br />
with their decision as this way I can have wh<strong>at</strong> I want: a phone, laptop, cool<br />
clothes…<br />
Adrian: I’d love be<strong>in</strong>g home alone, do wh<strong>at</strong>ever I want, not to hear them all day<br />
long pester<strong>in</strong>g me.<br />
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Andreea: Somebody said someth<strong>in</strong>g about hav<strong>in</strong>g some fun!<br />
Paul [takes out a bottle of booze and a pack of cigarettes]: I took money from grandma<br />
as I know she won’t notice and here you have the <strong>in</strong>gredients for hav<strong>in</strong>g fun!<br />
Adrian: Bravo! Smart boy! Daniel, some glasses…<br />
Daniel: Andreea, br<strong>in</strong>g the glasses please!<br />
Andreea [while go<strong>in</strong>g after the glasses]: You’re <strong>in</strong> charge of the music!<br />
Daniel turns the music volume up. Andreea puts the glasses on the table, Paul pours<br />
dr<strong>in</strong>k and each of the three guests lights a cigarette.<br />
Daniel: We don’t smoke <strong>in</strong> our house. If mum sees this I’ll be dead!<br />
Adrian: But don’t your folks know you’re smok<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Daniel: Well I pretty much don’t smoke! I even tried giv<strong>in</strong>g it up for good.<br />
Paul: You’re such a dupe! Wh<strong>at</strong> can be cooler than booze and a good cigarette?<br />
Andreea [danc<strong>in</strong>g, offers him a cigarette]: Come on, stop behav<strong>in</strong>g like a sa<strong>in</strong>t!<br />
Take one cigarette!<br />
Daniel: Ok, be it!<br />
Adrian lights up his cigarette. They all toast: Cheers!<br />
Adrian: Mamma mia, how good is the cognac!<br />
Daniel: I’ll dr<strong>in</strong>k just a little as I have to reach <strong>school</strong>, <strong>at</strong> least for the English class.<br />
Paul: Forget <strong>school</strong>, bro! Let’s pa<strong>in</strong>t the town red!<br />
Adrian: Go only for the English class!<br />
Daniel: Anyway I should have been <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong> already! But I have English class <strong>in</strong><br />
two hours. I’ll go there and see how I’ll manage.<br />
Andreea [danc<strong>in</strong>g lasciviously challenges the boys to dance]: We’d better dance!<br />
They all dance, smoke and dr<strong>in</strong>k <strong>at</strong> the same time. Party <strong>at</strong>mosphere. When the fun is<br />
<strong>at</strong> its height Daniel’s uncle enters, the one committ<strong>in</strong>g to supervise the nephew while<br />
the parents are away. Embarrassed the four youngsters stop danc<strong>in</strong>g and try to hide<br />
the glasses and the cigarettes, dissip<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g the smoke with their hands.<br />
Cristian [ironically]: Don’t bother! Cont<strong>in</strong>ue the party!<br />
Daniel stops the music and is embarrassed by his uncle show<strong>in</strong>g up.<br />
Daniel: You know, I was just gett<strong>in</strong>g ready to go to <strong>school</strong>!<br />
Cristian: I believe you! I’ve even noticed this! By the way! Wh<strong>at</strong> time is it? Weren’t<br />
you supposed to have been <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong> to a certa<strong>in</strong> class?<br />
474
Daniel: Well…<br />
Cristian [to Daniel]: No «well»! Go to <strong>school</strong> immedi<strong>at</strong>ely! [to the guests, push<strong>in</strong>g<br />
them towards the door]: Fun is over! Good-bye!<br />
Daniel: You should know they <strong>in</strong>vited themselves to my place!<br />
Cristian: And you were so k<strong>in</strong>d and accepted it!<br />
Daniel: They are my friends! Am I not allowed to have friends?<br />
Cristian: You’re allowed! Pity I cannot congr<strong>at</strong>ul<strong>at</strong>e you for the quality friends<br />
you have.<br />
Daniel: Wh<strong>at</strong> do you mean?<br />
Cristian: Th<strong>at</strong> you’re repe<strong>at</strong><strong>in</strong>g my mistakes! Also with my friends’ «help» I didn’t<br />
f<strong>in</strong>ish <strong>school</strong> <strong>in</strong> time and I restarted it when 30 years old. I had to work and<br />
f<strong>in</strong>ish my studies <strong>at</strong> the same time. I hardly found someth<strong>in</strong>g to work; I had to<br />
accept anyth<strong>in</strong>g on little payment. And all those made me spend too little<br />
time with my family, and with my son. Do you th<strong>in</strong>k it was easy?<br />
Daniel [while prepar<strong>in</strong>g his <strong>school</strong>bag]: This won’t happen to me! I will not do<br />
like you!<br />
Cristian: Today you did exactly like me 20 years ago!<br />
Daniel: It only happened today! I’ll not drop out of <strong>school</strong> for my friends!<br />
Cristian: You’re right. You won’t give it up! But have you thought <strong>school</strong> might<br />
give you up?<br />
Daniel: How can <strong>school</strong> give me up?<br />
Cristian: With your help and th<strong>at</strong> of your friends! Have you heard about be<strong>in</strong>g<br />
expelled?<br />
Daniel: Why should I be expelled? Only those with behaviour problems are expelled.<br />
Cristian: And those with absences!<br />
Daniel: Ok, ok, ok… I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>school</strong> and rest assured I won’t repe<strong>at</strong> your<br />
mistakes!<br />
Daniel leaves for <strong>school</strong>.<br />
SCENE II<br />
At <strong>school</strong>, dur<strong>in</strong>g break. Daniel has <strong>school</strong> break while he receives a call from Adrian.<br />
Adrian: Are you really plann<strong>in</strong>g to stay <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>? Your uncle has left. Be serious,<br />
he won’t pass by your place anymore!<br />
Daniel: I don’t know…<br />
475
Adrian: Come on, sucker, let’s f<strong>in</strong>ish wh<strong>at</strong> we’ve started!<br />
Daniel: Where are you?<br />
Adrian: We’re <strong>at</strong> the pizza’s around the corner. We’re wait<strong>in</strong>g for you! Don’t say no!<br />
Daniel: Let me see wh<strong>at</strong> I can do…<br />
He ends the call. He looks after his English teacher <strong>in</strong> the hall, goes towards him and<br />
approaches him.<br />
Daniel [hold<strong>in</strong>g his jaw]: Teacher, please, can I have a leave of absence for the<br />
English class as I have a dentist appo<strong>in</strong>tment!<br />
The teacher: You know today you’re hav<strong>in</strong>g the test and you really don’t have enough<br />
grades!<br />
Daniel: Yes, I know, but you see it’s a serious problem. I haven’t slept for two<br />
nights.<br />
The teacher: You don’t seem tired!<br />
Daniel [mimick<strong>in</strong>g pa<strong>in</strong>]: I swear to you this pa<strong>in</strong> is an ordeal!<br />
The teacher [look<strong>in</strong>g suspiciously]: All right, go, but it’s the last time you miss out<br />
English. You’ll have to get ready as you don’t have any grades and need to take<br />
the tests.<br />
Daniel: Thank you! I promise you not to miss out classes anymore and do my<br />
lessons!<br />
He dashes, takes his backpack with books and calls Adrian.<br />
Daniel: Adrian, it’s done! I’m com<strong>in</strong>g right away!<br />
SCENE III<br />
At Daniel’s house, they all enter through the door very happy and sit on the armchairs<br />
and on the couch. Daniel arranges the glasses and booze is served. Cigarettes are lit<br />
and they toast.<br />
Andreea: Turn the music louder!<br />
Daniel: I th<strong>in</strong>k it’s loud enough. I have some awful neighbours. They are two<br />
spy<strong>in</strong>g and grumbl<strong>in</strong>g old heave-hoes.<br />
Paul: Give me a break with your old heave-hoes!<br />
He goes and turns the music louder. Party <strong>at</strong>mosphere with dance, booze and cigarettes.<br />
The neighbour lady knocks desper<strong>at</strong>ely on the door. She <strong>in</strong>sists but receives no answer.<br />
476
The neighbour: Daniel, open up! This music drives me crazy! I want some<br />
peace!<br />
The neighbour’s husband [goes out <strong>in</strong> the hall and is very nervous]: The young<br />
gener<strong>at</strong>ion of nowadays! They no longer know wh<strong>at</strong> respect is! I’ll teach them<br />
a lesson! I’m call<strong>in</strong>g the police! [he calls the police]. Hello! Please come on Stejarului<br />
Street, block A 20. It’s a party th<strong>at</strong> disturbs the whole block, it’s a<br />
chaos. We cannot rest.<br />
Policemen come to the door and knock heavily. Inside the house the knock on the door is<br />
heard. The youngsters get surprised. Daniel turns off the music and goes to open the door.<br />
Daniel: Hello! How can I help you?<br />
Policeman 1: We want to talk to your parents.<br />
Daniel: They’re not <strong>at</strong> home.<br />
Policeman 2: Hello! I’m <strong>in</strong>spector Corneliu from the Community Police. Wh<strong>at</strong><br />
you have done is called disturbance of the public order and you receive a f<strong>in</strong>e<br />
of 100 for this. Your name please!<br />
Daniel: Please, understand, this has never happened before.<br />
Policeman 1: We want to speak to your parents. Wh<strong>at</strong>’s your name?<br />
Daniel: I’m Daniel Nicolescu. My parents are away <strong>at</strong> work <strong>in</strong> Spa<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Policeman 2: Who takes care of you? Wh<strong>at</strong> adult can we get <strong>in</strong> touch with?<br />
Daniel: My uncle, Cristian Ionescu.<br />
Policeman 2: Wh<strong>at</strong>’s his phone number?<br />
Daniel: 0599.468.320.<br />
Policeman 1 [calls Cristian]: Inspector Popescu from the Community Police.<br />
We ask you to come to the apartment from Stejarului Street where your<br />
nephew Daniel lives. There are some problems.<br />
The uncle enters the liv<strong>in</strong>g room and is very surprised of wh<strong>at</strong> he sees.<br />
Cristian: Wh<strong>at</strong>’s go<strong>in</strong>g on?<br />
Policeman 1: We’ve been requested to come by the tenants as the block was <strong>at</strong><br />
roar with very loud music from this fl<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Cristian: Daniel, you should have been <strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>! Wh<strong>at</strong> happened?<br />
Daniel looks embarrassed and is quiet.<br />
Cristian [look<strong>in</strong>g towards the three guests]: And wh<strong>at</strong> are you do<strong>in</strong>g here? I’ve previously<br />
sent you away!<br />
477
Adrian, Paul and Adreea look down.<br />
Policeman 2: We’ll call their parents to the police st<strong>at</strong>ion too. They will also receive<br />
a f<strong>in</strong>e for <strong>in</strong>cit<strong>in</strong>g to disturbance of public order. Wh<strong>at</strong> are your names?<br />
He writes down <strong>in</strong> his notebook the names of the three.<br />
Cristian: I’m extremely disappo<strong>in</strong>ted by the way you behaved, Daniel. You’ve<br />
skipped classes, you lied to me, and you succeeded <strong>in</strong> gett<strong>in</strong>g a f<strong>in</strong>e… Quite<br />
a group of friends… I don’t know how to «congr<strong>at</strong>ul<strong>at</strong>e» you all!<br />
The policemen and the three youngsters leave Daniel’s house. He rema<strong>in</strong>s with Cristian,<br />
who sits on the couch.<br />
Cristian: Wh<strong>at</strong> can you say? Wh<strong>at</strong> will your parents say when they f<strong>in</strong>d out<br />
about the f<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Daniel: I’m sorry!<br />
Cristian: Can I trust you anymore? «I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>school</strong> and rest assured I won’t<br />
repe<strong>at</strong> your mistakes!».<br />
Daniel: Please forgive me! I realize wh<strong>at</strong> a mess I’ve done. Neither mum nor dad<br />
will be permissive with me, I really deserve it! They won’t send me pocket<br />
money anymore.<br />
Cristian: The biggest problem is th<strong>at</strong> you don’t assume your responsibilities. Your<br />
<strong>at</strong>titude towards <strong>school</strong> and your future is completely irresponsible. Do you<br />
th<strong>in</strong>k you can cope without <strong>school</strong>?<br />
Daniel: I know I’ve disappo<strong>in</strong>ted you, I’m sorry! I’ve disappo<strong>in</strong>ted all of you. I<br />
cannot blame my friends. I’m to blame. I’ve made a bad choice. If I had stayed<br />
<strong>at</strong> <strong>school</strong>, none of these would have happened.<br />
Cristian: Everyth<strong>in</strong>g is paid for. With a f<strong>in</strong>e of 100 , and also <strong>in</strong> a different way.<br />
You’ll come every day to our place to do your homework and I’ll speak daily<br />
with your teacher to check your academic situ<strong>at</strong>ion. I know it’s unpleasant,<br />
but you made me do it and I’ll do it until you prove you have understood wh<strong>at</strong><br />
your responsibilities are! By the way, discotheque is forbidden <strong>in</strong> weekend!<br />
Cristian leaves and Daniel sits <strong>in</strong> the armchair.<br />
Daniel: Th<strong>at</strong>’s exactly wh<strong>at</strong> I deserve! At least I’ll have time for my English<br />
homework…<br />
478
Characters<br />
Dest<strong>in</strong>y<br />
COORDINATOR<br />
teacher Florent<strong>in</strong>a Necula, <strong>school</strong> no. 6, Oltenit¸a<br />
CO-AUTHORS<br />
Dumitru Cociu, Marian Salim, <strong>school</strong> no. 6, Oltenit¸a<br />
Mirela, student.<br />
Mirela’s grandma.<br />
Mirela’s f<strong>at</strong>her.<br />
Mirela’s stepmother.<br />
Mirela’s biological mother.<br />
Nicu, Maria, Mirela’s younger sibl<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
Mirela’s <strong>school</strong> m<strong>at</strong>es.<br />
One of Mirela’s teachers.<br />
SCENE I<br />
At home, <strong>in</strong> one of the rooms, Mirela is do<strong>in</strong>g her homework <strong>at</strong> the table. In one corner<br />
Mirela’s younger sibl<strong>in</strong>gs are play<strong>in</strong>g with some old toys. Mirela’s grandma enters,<br />
walk<strong>in</strong>g with difficulty, hold<strong>in</strong>g a bunch of laundry and the iron<strong>in</strong>g mach<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Grandma: Mirela dear, wh<strong>at</strong> are you do<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Mirela: I’m do<strong>in</strong>g my M<strong>at</strong>hs homework. We’ll have a test tomorrow and the<br />
teacher told me she would give me an extra po<strong>in</strong>t if I had all my homework<br />
479
done. I’m frett<strong>in</strong>g with one bloody exercise. But grandma, wh<strong>at</strong> are you do<strong>in</strong>g<br />
with those laundries? [she stands up, takes the laundries from her and sets them on<br />
the bed] Leave them! I’ll iron them l<strong>at</strong>er. Get rest, you know you haven’t been<br />
feel<strong>in</strong>g very well these days.<br />
Grandma: No, I’ll iron them. You’ve done enough for today, you cooked, you<br />
washed after these little ones, and you swept away the kitchen… Don’t m<strong>in</strong>d<br />
it, do your homework so the teacher wouldn’t get upset.<br />
Mirela: And who do you want to carry them out? You’re old and sick. And th<strong>at</strong><br />
stupid Margareta spends all day begg<strong>in</strong>g. Wh<strong>at</strong> shall I say about dad?<br />
Grandma: Wh<strong>at</strong> is she supposed to do? We don’t have money. She does wh<strong>at</strong><br />
she can.<br />
Mirela [return<strong>in</strong>g to the table grumbl<strong>in</strong>g]: We don’t have money, we don’t have<br />
money. I know wh<strong>at</strong> she does with the money. She’d better stay <strong>at</strong> home and<br />
do some chores. But she’s lazy to look even after her kids [she starts writ<strong>in</strong>g].<br />
Mirela’s f<strong>at</strong>her enters, stagger<strong>in</strong>g a little, a bottle <strong>in</strong> one hand.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you do<strong>in</strong>g here? [he slams himself on a chair] Are you writ<strong>in</strong>g aga<strong>in</strong>?<br />
[he throws Mirela’s books and notebooks away from the table and po<strong>in</strong>ts to<br />
his stomach] Alemanda, has mimis! You should br<strong>in</strong>g me food, not write! Why<br />
are you study<strong>in</strong>g, stupid? As you’ll still be stupid! I don’t need you to become<br />
a <strong>school</strong>ed lady. You should know to cook, to wash, to iron, make babies and<br />
listen to the man.<br />
Mirela [g<strong>at</strong>her<strong>in</strong>g her books and notebooks from the floor]: No, I want to go to<br />
<strong>school</strong>. And I will! I don’t want to become like you or your wife, starved to<br />
de<strong>at</strong>h. I’m go<strong>in</strong>g to f<strong>in</strong>ish <strong>school</strong> and get employed somewhere. Nobody hires<br />
you without <strong>school</strong>.<br />
Grandma: Leave the girl alone! She has to go to <strong>school</strong>. She’ll have time to get<br />
married and have children. And I hope she’ll have the luck of a better man. All<br />
day long you sit <strong>at</strong> the pub <strong>in</strong>stead of look<strong>in</strong>g for some work.<br />
F<strong>at</strong>her [on a menac<strong>in</strong>g tone]: Be quiet! [to Mirela] Come on, br<strong>in</strong>g me food, or I’ll<br />
thrash you.<br />
SCENE II<br />
In the classroom. The bell r<strong>in</strong>gs the beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g of classes. All students are <strong>at</strong> desks.<br />
Mirela shows up <strong>in</strong> a hurry. She gets to her desk and searches her <strong>school</strong>bag.<br />
480
Bogdan: Mirela, you’re l<strong>at</strong>e aga<strong>in</strong>. If you were a little bit l<strong>at</strong>e, the teacher would<br />
have come before you and once aga<strong>in</strong> you’d have got an absence.<br />
Mirela [without notic<strong>in</strong>g him, cont<strong>in</strong>ues search<strong>in</strong>g]: Oh, where is it?<br />
One student girl: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you look<strong>in</strong>g for? Look, the books and notebooks are<br />
on the desk? Do you need a pen? I’ll give you one.<br />
Mirela: No, I don’t need a pen. I cannot f<strong>in</strong>d my project for Romanian.<br />
Bogdan: On the contrary, I th<strong>in</strong>k you didn’t do it and now you want to make us<br />
believe you lost it.<br />
Mirela [furious]: No, it’s not true! I’ve done it! Wh<strong>at</strong>, do you th<strong>in</strong>k I’m a liar?<br />
Bogdan: Last week you also said you had done your homework and <strong>in</strong> fact you<br />
hadn’t.<br />
The colleague girl: Bogdan, leave her alone! She did her homework but she didn’t<br />
write all the exercises. She wrote wh<strong>at</strong> she could. You know very well she<br />
has problems. And besides, the teacher didn’t get upset.<br />
Mirela [still search<strong>in</strong>g her <strong>school</strong>bag]: I cannot f<strong>in</strong>d it. I th<strong>in</strong>k I forgot it home. [to<br />
her colleagues] But I certa<strong>in</strong>ly did it.<br />
Bogdan: Yes, yes, you sure did it!<br />
Another colleague boy: Bogdan, you’d better leave her alone. She doesn’t have<br />
pretty anybody to help her unlike you. Her parents didn’t buy her the last<br />
gener<strong>at</strong>ion computer, laser pr<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g mach<strong>in</strong>e, I-pad or…<br />
The Romanian teacher enters.<br />
Teacher: Good afternoon! [she sits <strong>at</strong> her desk and opens the c<strong>at</strong>alogue] Is anybody<br />
miss<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
The students: No.<br />
Bogdan [pretty loud, but not as to be heard by the teacher]: But Mirela was close to<br />
be miss<strong>in</strong>g [some students chuckle, others look <strong>at</strong> him reproachfully].<br />
The teacher: Today you should have brought the projects. I th<strong>in</strong>k you had enough<br />
time to do them.<br />
Mirela: Teacher, I don’t have the project. I believe I’ve forgot it home. But I did it.<br />
The teacher: Are you sure? It happened before not do<strong>in</strong>g your homework on time.<br />
Mirela: Th<strong>at</strong>’s true. But I did them <strong>in</strong> the end. And I did the project. I also found<br />
images. And the ladies from the bookstore pr<strong>in</strong>ted them for me. You know<br />
I’m help<strong>in</strong>g there sometimes with the clean<strong>in</strong>g. And <strong>in</strong>stead of pay<strong>in</strong>g me,<br />
they helped me with the project. I’ll br<strong>in</strong>g it next time. Or, if you want I can<br />
go home right now and br<strong>in</strong>g it.<br />
The teacher: You can’t miss the class. You’ll br<strong>in</strong>g it next time. But be careful this<br />
doesn’t happen aga<strong>in</strong>. [to the students] Open your books <strong>at</strong> page 54, please.<br />
481
SCENE III<br />
At Mirela’s house. Grandma sits <strong>in</strong> bed. Mirela enters happy.<br />
Mirela: Hello! Grandma, I’ve got a 6 <strong>in</strong> M<strong>at</strong>hs. In fact, I got a 5, but the teacher<br />
checked my homework and said she would give me a… Grandma, wh<strong>at</strong>’s<br />
wrong?<br />
Grandma: I’m very sick. I can’t even get out of bed. Br<strong>in</strong>g me a cup of w<strong>at</strong>er!<br />
Mirela [br<strong>in</strong>gs her w<strong>at</strong>er]: S<strong>in</strong>ce when have you been sick? Did nobody stay with<br />
you? Isn’t anybody home?<br />
Grandma: Margareta went begg<strong>in</strong>g and your dad saw me and said I should stay<br />
<strong>in</strong> bed, and I’d be better. And he left.<br />
Mirela: Wh<strong>at</strong> about the little ones? They were <strong>in</strong> the yard when I went to <strong>school</strong>.<br />
Grandma: Maybe they went to a neighbour to play with her children.<br />
Mirela: Grandma, I’m tak<strong>in</strong>g you to hospital!<br />
Grandma: Leave it, dear, I’ll stay <strong>in</strong> bed further, maybe it goes away. Wh<strong>at</strong> shall<br />
I do <strong>in</strong> hospital? I’m too old. If I go to hospital too, you’ll miss <strong>school</strong> to take<br />
care of me, as you did last time.<br />
Mirela: Noth<strong>in</strong>g will happen if I miss one day or two. The teacher will understand<br />
when I tell her I’ve stayed with you <strong>in</strong> hospital. She gets upset only if I<br />
skip classes without a reason. And wh<strong>at</strong> if someth<strong>in</strong>g happens to you, wh<strong>at</strong><br />
shall I do? Who’ll take care of me? Mum left me. Dad will sell me on first occasion<br />
and would say it’s for my own good to get married. He wants to get rid<br />
of me and get some more money. And Margareta is not able to take care of her<br />
own children, even less of me. You’re my mum and dad, grandma. I’m call<strong>in</strong>g<br />
the ambulance.<br />
SCENE IV<br />
In a classroom, dur<strong>in</strong>g a break.<br />
One colleague: Where are you com<strong>in</strong>g from?<br />
Another colleague: The teacher called me to the office. She wants to know wh<strong>at</strong><br />
is go<strong>in</strong>g on with Mirela. You know she hasn’t come to <strong>school</strong> for some days.<br />
I’ve told her I don’t know anyth<strong>in</strong>g. She didn’t let me know. Might someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
have happened to her? Wh<strong>at</strong> do you know about her?<br />
The first colleague: I don’t know anyth<strong>in</strong>g either. Maybe she got bored of<br />
<strong>school</strong> and doesn’t want to come anymore. Or maybe her folks married her.<br />
482
You know <strong>in</strong> their community it’s normal not to let them come to <strong>school</strong> and<br />
marry them for good amounts of money.<br />
The second colleague: Yes, th<strong>at</strong>’s true, but I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k it’s her case. You know<br />
how Mirela is. She won’t let her dad sell her just like this.<br />
The first colleague: Or maybe she has f<strong>in</strong>ally decided to go to her mother. To<br />
her biological mother, I mean. I’ve heard she doesn’t leave too far away.<br />
The second colleague: To go to her after she was abandoned? I don’t th<strong>in</strong>k so.<br />
And, besides this, she really wants to come to <strong>school</strong>.<br />
The first colleague: She isn’t cop<strong>in</strong>g very well with <strong>school</strong>. She was just about to<br />
fail M<strong>at</strong>hs last semester.<br />
The second colleague: Dear, stop compar<strong>in</strong>g Mirela with you. Of course she<br />
cannot get 9 and 10. But she passed the class. She tries do<strong>in</strong>g her homework,<br />
as much as she can, she does her projects too. She succeeds <strong>in</strong> gett<strong>in</strong>g a 6 <strong>in</strong><br />
M<strong>at</strong>hs. And it’s important she comes to <strong>school</strong>. How many girls of her age<br />
from their community are still com<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>school</strong>?<br />
The first colleague: You’re right. But if you and Maria and others, and the<br />
teachers weren’t help<strong>in</strong>g her, she wouldn’t have passed the class. And look<br />
now, she’s not com<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>school</strong> anymore.<br />
The second colleague: Surely someth<strong>in</strong>g has happened. [Mirela enters and sits<br />
down <strong>in</strong> her desk tired] Mirela, how are you? Wh<strong>at</strong> happened? You’ve been absent<br />
from <strong>school</strong> a lot!<br />
The first colleague: I thought you got bored and didn’t want to come anymore.<br />
Mirela: I stayed <strong>in</strong> hospital with grandma for 3 days. She was very sick.<br />
The second colleague [to the first colleague]: I’ve told you. [to Mirela] And how<br />
is she now? Is she feel<strong>in</strong>g better?<br />
Mirela: Yes, she’s no longer <strong>in</strong> hospital. But I couldn’t come to <strong>school</strong> immedi<strong>at</strong>ely<br />
as I went to work. I needed money for medic<strong>in</strong>e. And wh<strong>at</strong> I found<br />
home…<br />
The second colleague: Speak with our teacher! Tell her wh<strong>at</strong> happened! People<br />
believe you don’t want to come to <strong>school</strong> anymore.<br />
Mirela: Yes, I’ll go right now.<br />
SCENE VI<br />
At Mirela’s house. Grandma is cook<strong>in</strong>g. Mirela’s biological mother enters.<br />
Grandma [surprised]: Wh<strong>at</strong> are you do<strong>in</strong>g here?<br />
Mother: I’ve come to see my daughter.<br />
483
Grandma: You’re ly<strong>in</strong>g! If you wanted to see your daughter, you’d have come<br />
some time ago. How could you abandon her and go?<br />
Mother: This is none of your bus<strong>in</strong>ess!<br />
Grandma: Mirela is no longer your daughter, she’s my girl. I took care of her and<br />
now she is help<strong>in</strong>g me. I won’t let you take her away from me, you should<br />
know.<br />
Mirela enters with a basket full of dry laundry.<br />
Mirela: Grandma, do we have guests?<br />
Mother: Wh<strong>at</strong> a beautiful girl you’ve become! And hardwork<strong>in</strong>g! Mirela, I’m your<br />
mother.<br />
Mirela: Yes? And where have you been up to now? Why did you abandon me?<br />
Mother: I didn’t leave you. But I couldn’t stand it liv<strong>in</strong>g with your f<strong>at</strong>her. I had<br />
to go. And now I’m do<strong>in</strong>g f<strong>in</strong>e. And, look, now I’ve come to take you home.<br />
Mirela: But I have a home. I have grandma. You left me.<br />
Mother: I didn’t leave you. I’ve come to take you to my home so you have a better<br />
life. Wh<strong>at</strong> are you do<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> this hut? You wash, you iron, you cook? Look<br />
how you’re dressed!<br />
Grandma: No, no, leave the girl alone. She’s not com<strong>in</strong>g anywhere with you,<br />
can you hear me? Nowhere. My girl stays here.<br />
Mother: Mirela, come with your mum. I’ll buy you beautiful clothes, branded<br />
ones, I’ll take you to the hair-stylist, and you’ll live <strong>in</strong> a big and beautiful<br />
house. You don’t have to do chores and take care of others anymore.<br />
Mirela [th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g]: And wh<strong>at</strong> about <strong>school</strong>? I want to f<strong>in</strong>ish <strong>school</strong>. I want to take<br />
a job.<br />
Mother: You won’t even need a job. You’ll have everyth<strong>in</strong>g you want. And<br />
about <strong>school</strong>, if you want, you’ll go to <strong>school</strong> too, but not to this <strong>school</strong>.<br />
Grandma: Mirela, she’s ly<strong>in</strong>g! She wants to marry you on money. Don’t believe<br />
her!<br />
Mother: Th<strong>at</strong>’s not true. I want you to stay with me. We’ve been separ<strong>at</strong>ed for so<br />
long. You’ll have everyth<strong>in</strong>g your heart wants!<br />
Grandma: Mirela, don’t go! Whom are you leav<strong>in</strong>g me to? Wh<strong>at</strong> shall I do without<br />
you?<br />
Mirela [ponder<strong>in</strong>g]: Grandma, I’m not go<strong>in</strong>g to leave you! But I wish I had beautiful<br />
clothes and didn’t do chores anymore. I want to see how it is liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a<br />
big house. Grandma, I’ll come and see you often. Mum, do you promise we’re<br />
go<strong>in</strong>g to help grandma from now on? If you promise, I’ll go with you. Do you<br />
promise?<br />
484
Mother: Of course, my dear daughter. Look, I’m giv<strong>in</strong>g her some money so she<br />
can buy food.<br />
Grandma: Mirela, you’ll be sorry. Don’t go!<br />
Mirela: Come on, grandma; don’t th<strong>in</strong>k only about bad th<strong>in</strong>gs. I’ll come and see<br />
you very often.<br />
She kisses her grandma and exits with her mother.<br />
SCENE VII<br />
In an unknown room. Mirela sits <strong>at</strong> the table and writes a letter.<br />
Mirela: «Dear mum, When read<strong>in</strong>g this letter I hope you’ll also feel wh<strong>at</strong> I’m<br />
feel<strong>in</strong>g now. I trusted you. I was just see<strong>in</strong>g myself <strong>in</strong> your house, dressed <strong>in</strong><br />
cool clothes, with good food on the table, with no worries, surrounded by the<br />
love you’ve promised me. And wh<strong>at</strong> have you done? You sold me for 1000<br />
Euros! Let aside you had abandoned me <strong>in</strong> hospital when I was a baby, this<br />
time you gave me away after whoever offers you some money? And to do<br />
wh<strong>at</strong>? To do the wash<strong>in</strong>g, and iron<strong>in</strong>g, to clean and cook for somebody who is<br />
never s<strong>at</strong>isfied? At least <strong>at</strong> home I was do<strong>in</strong>g all these stuff for my family, and<br />
not for strangers. I shouldn’t have listened to you. I should have known all you<br />
had said were only lies. I should have known you couldn’t care for me.<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> do you care I’m not allowed to see grandma? Wh<strong>at</strong> do you care if I had<br />
the courage to tell them wh<strong>at</strong> I th<strong>in</strong>k and wh<strong>at</strong> I believe, all I get is drubb<strong>in</strong>g?<br />
Wh<strong>at</strong> do you care they don’t let me go to <strong>school</strong>? Why should you care? You<br />
have money now. For you it doesn’t m<strong>at</strong>ter you destroyed my life for this<br />
money. Are you happy? Mirela».<br />
485
Introduzione<br />
Scrivere te<strong>at</strong>ro sull’<strong>in</strong>clusione sociale <strong>in</strong> Romania ha permesso alle persone<br />
co<strong>in</strong>volte di fare un’esperienza professionale e personale di tipo cre<strong>at</strong>ivo, e di entrare<br />
direttamente <strong>in</strong> relazione con le realtà tr<strong>at</strong>t<strong>at</strong>e. I partecipanti al progetto –<br />
<strong>in</strong>segnanti, rappresentanti di ONG, studenti e ragazzi con trascorsi di abbandono<br />
scolastico – hanno saputo sperimentare ruoli difficilmente accessibili o comunque<br />
difficili da gestire nella vita di tutti i giorni, e hanno voluto accettare la nostra<br />
proposta di giocare <strong>in</strong> modo molto serio con il tema dell’abbandono scolastico<br />
e con i contesti sociali, educ<strong>at</strong>ivi e culturali ad esso connessi, accettando i nostri<br />
suggerimenti su come affrontarli; ne è sc<strong>at</strong>urita un’esperienza che ha aperto ad ognuno<br />
nuove prospettive, nuovi ruoli da agire. Il valore aggiunto del progetto risiede<br />
nella possibilità che è st<strong>at</strong>a d<strong>at</strong>a agli oper<strong>at</strong>ori di lavorare con metodi e strumenti<br />
non molto comuni nel nostro paese.<br />
Gli oper<strong>at</strong>ori co<strong>in</strong>volti hanno potuto partecipare ad <strong>at</strong>tività form<strong>at</strong>ive tenute<br />
da professionisti del te<strong>at</strong>ro e hanno messo <strong>in</strong> pr<strong>at</strong>ica assieme ai ragazzi i contenuti<br />
studi<strong>at</strong>i. Il risult<strong>at</strong>o sono le dieci pièce contenute <strong>in</strong> questo libro, e il grande<br />
entusiasmo che ognuno ha messo nella loro realizzazione.<br />
486
Personaggi<br />
Siamo ciò che decidiamo di essere<br />
COORDINATORI<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a Nit¸u, <strong>in</strong>segnante; T<strong>at</strong>iana Păduraru, <strong>in</strong>segnante,<br />
Collegio Nazionale «Octav Onicescu», Bucarest<br />
COAUTORI<br />
dieci studenti del decimo 1 , sezione D,<br />
Collegio Nazionale «Octav Onicescu», Bucarest<br />
Bianca.<br />
Sonia.<br />
Ana, una buona amica.<br />
Signora Ionescu, madre di Bianca.<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a, sorella di Bianca.<br />
Il marito di Al<strong>in</strong>a Popescu.<br />
Prodan Vicent¸iu, <strong>in</strong>segnante.<br />
Mavrocordan, nonno di Sonia.<br />
SCENA I<br />
Atto I<br />
Mentre passeggiano, Sonia e Bianca parlano delle rispettive famiglie.<br />
Sonia: Ciao!<br />
Bianca: Ciao!<br />
Sonia: Che facciamo oggi?<br />
487
Bianca: Quello che facciamo sempre, non andiamo a scuola, andiamo al parco,<br />
tanto mamma non c’è e non sa niente di me. Mia sorella è occup<strong>at</strong>a col suo<br />
bamb<strong>in</strong>o, o al lavoro. Mio cogn<strong>at</strong>o è buono solo a ubriacarsi… Perciò posso<br />
fare quello che mi pare.<br />
Sonia: E io allora? Mio nonno mi crede una brillante studentessa, dopo tutto<br />
quello che gli ho raccont<strong>at</strong>o. Andiamo al parco, magari <strong>in</strong>contriamo ancora<br />
quei ragazzi di ieri, quelli che ci hanno d<strong>at</strong>o da bere e da fumare… Ci divertiamo<br />
un po’.<br />
Bianca: No! Gli hai detto che vai bene a scuola? Questa b<strong>at</strong>te tutti, anche me; ecco<br />
perché sei la mia migliore amica: noi sì che sappiamo il f<strong>at</strong>to nostro.<br />
Sonia: Per forza, altrimenti non mi dava i soldi.<br />
Bianca tira fuori lo specchio, il rossetto, l’ombretto…<br />
Sonia: Prestali anche a me! Guarda che faccia. Mio nonno non mi permette più<br />
di truccarmi, mi manda a scuola <strong>in</strong> questo st<strong>at</strong>o. Dice che ai suoi tempi non<br />
ci si pitturava la faccia così.<br />
SCENA II<br />
Incontrano i loro compagni di classe e sulle prime non li riconoscono.<br />
Bianca: Ehi, guarda quella! Perché ci fissa?<br />
Sonia: Forse c’era anche lei, ieri al parco.<br />
Bianca: Non credo proprio. Non hai visto che faccia da sfig<strong>at</strong>a? Puah…<br />
Ana si avvic<strong>in</strong>a alle sue compagne.<br />
Ana: Salve, ragazze!<br />
Bianca: Vieni a fumare una sigaretta, come ieri!<br />
Ana: Sigaretta? Ieri? Io ieri ero a scuola, a lezione. Non siete venute per quasi tutto<br />
il semestre.<br />
Sonia: Non importa, ci promuoveranno lo stesso, mio nonno ha i soldi… mi<br />
farà promuovere a pagamento pur di salvarsi la faccia.<br />
Bianca: E mamma manderà dei regali agli <strong>in</strong>segnanti… Forse anche un po’ di<br />
soldi… La conv<strong>in</strong>cerò <strong>in</strong> qualche modo…<br />
Ana: L’<strong>in</strong>segnante, il professor Prodan, ha detto che chi non fa gli esami non potrà<br />
essere promosso.<br />
488
Sonia: E quando ci sono questi esami?<br />
Ana: Oggi!<br />
Bianca Oggi si sono gli esami? È già f<strong>in</strong>ito il semestre? Se veniamo, devi aiutarci!<br />
Ci basta un c<strong>in</strong>que 2 … Ti prego! Parleremo coi compagni, così non ti daranno<br />
più fastidio.<br />
Ana: D’accordo, vi aiuto. Ma bad<strong>at</strong>e a quel che f<strong>at</strong>e. Non voglio prendere un uno<br />
3 o un altro voto basso…<br />
SCENA III<br />
Le tre ragazze arrivano a scuola; si siedono ai loro banchi. Sono pronte per gli esami.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante entra <strong>in</strong> classe.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Buon pomeriggio!<br />
Controlla la lista delle presenze, chiedendo allo studente <strong>in</strong>caric<strong>at</strong>o chi manca.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Non manca nessuno oggi?<br />
Ana [<strong>in</strong> qualità di studente <strong>in</strong>caric<strong>at</strong>o]: Nessuno.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Sono venute anche le signor<strong>in</strong>e Bianca e Sonia?<br />
Bianca e Sonia [<strong>in</strong>sieme]: Ma se siamo venute ogni giorno!<br />
Ana: Shhh… è nervoso! Ci darà un compito più difficile, magari differenzi<strong>at</strong>o 4 .<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Va bene, niente esami oggi; le due ragazze che sono venute ogni<br />
giorno vengano alla lavagna.<br />
Bianca: Ecco, se fossi rimasta zitta, avremmo f<strong>at</strong>to l’esame e ce la saremmo cav<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Sonia: Potevi star zitta tu!<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: And<strong>at</strong>e alla lavagna <strong>in</strong> silenzio! Risolvete questo: 2a + 2 = 2!<br />
Le ragazze vanno alla lavagna e non sanno svolgere l’esercizio.<br />
Bianca: Ma non le abbiamo studi<strong>at</strong>e, queste cose.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Certo che no, le abbiamo studi<strong>at</strong>e all’<strong>in</strong>izio del semestre, e adesso<br />
siamo alla f<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
489
SCENA IV<br />
La madre di Bianca entra <strong>in</strong>sieme alla sorella e al cogn<strong>at</strong>o di Bianca.<br />
Madre: Salve, professore! Sono la madre di Bianca e sono venuta a vedere come<br />
procede l’educazione di mia figlia. Mi scusi se ho <strong>in</strong>terrotto la lezione, ma<br />
Bianca mi ha detto che non ha problemi, che ha addirittura il massimo dei voti,<br />
mentre sua sorella e suo cogn<strong>at</strong>o mi hanno detto il contrario.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Le mostro immedi<strong>at</strong>amente la situazione di sua figlia sul registro.<br />
Di voti non ne ha, ma <strong>in</strong> compenso ha moltissime assenze. Le ho appena chiesto<br />
di risolvere un esercizio per studenti di qu<strong>in</strong>ta, mentre lei è al decimo anno.<br />
E non lo ha saputo risolvere. Sono quasi sicuro che verrà bocci<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Madre [chiede a Bianca di avvic<strong>in</strong>arsi]: Bianca, che cosa mi hai raccont<strong>at</strong>o, e che<br />
cosa sta succedendo qui?<br />
Bianca: Ehm, mamma, non potevo dirti la cruda verità, perché non mi avresti<br />
d<strong>at</strong>o più soldi, ma c’è dell’altro. Chiedi anche ad Al<strong>in</strong>a. Ogni volta che volevo<br />
fare i compiti lei mi faceva badare al bamb<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a: Non è vero, mamma. Le ho chiesto solo, quando tornava da scuola, di<br />
comprare del pane e due litri di acqua n<strong>at</strong>urale, perché beve solo quella. Non<br />
mi ha mai d<strong>at</strong>o il resto, ma ho lasci<strong>at</strong>o correre per non sentirle dire che potevo<br />
almeno darle qualcosa…<br />
Bianca: Non mi darebbe un soldo nemmeno per un succo di frutta. Senza avere<br />
qualcosa <strong>in</strong> cambio.<br />
Madre: E i soldi che ho mand<strong>at</strong>o?<br />
Bianca: Li ha presi David, mio cogn<strong>at</strong>o, per andare a ubriacarsi.<br />
Il cogn<strong>at</strong>o: Se sei st<strong>at</strong>a tu a darmeli, perché non raccontassi a tua madre come ti<br />
ho becc<strong>at</strong>a nel parco!<br />
Bianca: E tu che ci facevi a quell’ora al parco?<br />
Il cogn<strong>at</strong>o: Ero <strong>in</strong> cerca di un lavoro.<br />
Bianca: Ma smettila! Stavi andando al bar con quei teppisti dei tuoi amici.<br />
Il cogn<strong>at</strong>o: Non è vero. Un amico mi aveva detto che c’era un lavoro… Che dovevo<br />
fare?<br />
Madre: Basta così! Ho capito.<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a: Mamma, nemmeno io sapevo niente di questa storia. Credevo che David<br />
l’accompagnasse a scuola, non che si <strong>in</strong>contrassero nei parchi…<br />
Sonia: Che c’è di male nell’andare al parco? E non era sola, c’ero anch’io, non deve<br />
preoccuparsi tanto. È <strong>in</strong> buone mani.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Come vede nessuno di loro ne sa niente.<br />
Madre [rivolta a Sonia]: E tu chi sei?<br />
Al<strong>in</strong>a: Come se ce ne importasse qualcosa.<br />
490
Parlano tutti <strong>in</strong>sieme.<br />
Il cogn<strong>at</strong>o: Sì, c’era anche lei nel parco.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Con tutto questo chiasso verrà il preside…<br />
Tutti tacciono.<br />
SCENA V<br />
Bussano alla porta. No, non è il preside, ma un elfo che trasforma completamente i<br />
personaggi.<br />
Personaggi<br />
Signora Dogaru, l’<strong>in</strong>segnante.<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a, madre di Ema.<br />
Sergiu.<br />
Il cameriere.<br />
Il moralista, padre di Sergiu.<br />
Ema.<br />
SCENA I<br />
Atto II<br />
Ema, Ir<strong>in</strong>a e Sergiu sono seduti su una panch<strong>in</strong>a al parco e decidono di mar<strong>in</strong>are la<br />
scuola per andare al bar.<br />
Ema: Che facciamo oggi, ci andiamo a scuola?<br />
Sergiu: A scuola!? Che ti viene <strong>in</strong> mente? C’è ancora tempo prima della f<strong>in</strong>e del<br />
semestre, quando faranno le medie dei voti…<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Facciamo come al solito, raccontiamo ai professori che siamo st<strong>at</strong>i mal<strong>at</strong>i<br />
o che i nostri genitori hanno avuto dei problemi e bla bla bla… si commuoveranno<br />
e ci daranno la sufficienza.<br />
Ema: Si va al bar, allora… Evviva! Così mi piacete!<br />
491
SCENA II<br />
Al bar.<br />
Sergiu: Allora, ragazze, cosa beviamo?<br />
Ema: Una Pepsi.<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Una limon<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Sergiu: Che vi prende? Tutto qua? Io prenderò qualcosa di più forte: un g<strong>in</strong> tonic.<br />
Ema: Con quali soldi? Mia madre non mi dà più niente, mi ha chiesto di vedere<br />
i miei voti… E m<strong>in</strong>accia di andare a scuola, anche. Non so più cosa raccontarle<br />
per impedirglielo.<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Per me è più o meno lo stesso.<br />
Sergiu: A me nessuno dice niente, perché non hanno tempo, hanno due lavori,<br />
tornano a casa stanchi morti… Non li snervo coi miei problemi.<br />
Sergiu: Cameriere possiamo ord<strong>in</strong>are? Si b<strong>at</strong>te la fiacca qui.<br />
Cameriere: Che cosa prendete?<br />
Sergiu: Una Pepsi, una limon<strong>at</strong>a e un g<strong>in</strong> tonic.<br />
Cameriere: Non serviamo alcolici ai m<strong>in</strong>orenni.<br />
Sergiu: Va bene, basta scherzi, avrai la tua mancia… che problema c’è?<br />
Cameriere: Il problema è che abbiamo delle regole, e le rispettiamo!<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Ma dài! Quanti anni hai? Non saremo mica i primi ragazz<strong>in</strong>i che ord<strong>in</strong>ano<br />
da bere, no? Tu non bevevi quando andavi alle superiori?<br />
Cameriere: Se non la piant<strong>at</strong>e, dovrò chiamare la sicurezza.<br />
Sergiu: Forza, ragazze, andiamo via. Qui si diventa troppo nervosi!<br />
SCENA III<br />
Gli studenti escono dal locale e si siedono su una panch<strong>in</strong>a nel parco. Sergiu tira fuori<br />
le sigarette, le ragazze si rifanno il trucco. All’improvviso si avvic<strong>in</strong>a il loro <strong>in</strong>segnante.<br />
Gli studenti non se ne accorgono.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Che ci f<strong>at</strong>e voi qui? Ema, ieri al telefono mi hai detto che eri ammal<strong>at</strong>a,<br />
e che non saresti venuta a scuola per tutta la settimana. E adesso sei<br />
qui, al parco! A anche tu, Ir<strong>in</strong>a, e tu, Sergiu! Conoscete bene la vostra situazione.<br />
Molte assenze e voti bassi.<br />
Sergiu: Ma professore, abbiamo il certific<strong>at</strong>o medico. Siamo mal<strong>at</strong>i, ma non gravemente,<br />
non così tanto da dover stare a casa.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Sì, lo vedo [<strong>in</strong>dica le sigarette e i cosmetici]. E prendete anche le medic<strong>in</strong>e!<br />
A scuola, subito!<br />
492
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Non possiamo, non abbiamo l’occorrente. In effetti, non sappiamo nemmeno<br />
che m<strong>at</strong>erie abbiamo.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Chiederò ai vostri compagni di prestarvi carta e m<strong>at</strong>ite, così potrete<br />
prendere appunti.<br />
Durante questa conversazione appare <strong>in</strong> scena la madre di Ema.<br />
Madre di Ema: Salve, professore, vedo che Ema è al parco, quando <strong>in</strong>vece dovrebbe<br />
essere a scuola. Io lavoro f<strong>in</strong>o a dodici ore al giorno perché non le manchi<br />
niente e lei se ne sta al parco <strong>in</strong>vece di andare a scuola. Se oggi non fosse st<strong>at</strong>o<br />
giorno di dis<strong>in</strong>festazione, sarei ancora al lavoro!<br />
Ema: No, mamma, oggi non c’è lezione.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Hai il coraggio di mentire di fronte a me?<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: Ema, sta zitta! Peggiori le cose…<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante [rivolgendosi alla madre]: Signora, la situazione di Ema è preoccupante:<br />
non studia, probabilmente sarà bocci<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> diverse m<strong>at</strong>erie; ha f<strong>at</strong>to un<br />
mucchio di assenze e non dà segno di voler cambiare rotta. Non so cos’altro<br />
dire. Probabilmente i miei <strong>in</strong>viti a venire a colloquio non le sono arriv<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
Madre di Ema: Lo sento ora per la prima volta, e <strong>in</strong> effetti non posso lasciare l’ufficio<br />
perché il capo si fida solo di me.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Lo credo, ma <strong>in</strong> questo modo, come vede, ha trascur<strong>at</strong>o sua figlia.<br />
Ed Ema ha fiut<strong>at</strong>o la possibilità di tenerle nascosta la verità.<br />
Madre di Ema: È vero, ma prometto che le cose cambieranno, verrò tutti i giorni<br />
f<strong>in</strong>ché la situazione non migliorerà, perché come sa prima di quest’anno era<br />
un’ottima studentessa… e parlerò anche coi genitori di Sergiu e Ir<strong>in</strong>a, d<strong>at</strong>o<br />
che sono miei vic<strong>in</strong>i di casa.<br />
Ir<strong>in</strong>a: No, signora, la supplico!<br />
Sergiu: Per favore, no! Oh Dio, sta arrivando mio padre…<br />
Entra <strong>in</strong> scena il padre di Sergiu, che conclude la scena enunciando la morale.<br />
Padre di Sergiu: Le persone possono cambiare. Oggi recitano una parte sul palcoscenico<br />
della vita, domani ne reciteranno un’altra, dipende da come scrivono<br />
il loro copione e da come dirigono il mondo che hanno cre<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Note<br />
1. Il decimo grado è il secondo anno di scuola superiore; di solito gli studenti hanno<br />
qu<strong>in</strong>dici o sedici anni.<br />
493
2. Il sistema dei voti scolastici <strong>in</strong> Romania va dall’uno al dieci (tranne che all’asilo e alle<br />
elementari); dal c<strong>in</strong>que <strong>in</strong> su si è promossi.<br />
3. «Uno» è il voto che viene assegn<strong>at</strong>o di solito a chi passa il compito ad altri.<br />
4. In base al numero degli studenti, i compiti d’esame possono avere soggetti diversi distribuiti<br />
secondo le file, <strong>in</strong> modo da rendere più difficile copiare dal vic<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
494
Una storia fredda<br />
COORDINATORE<br />
Do<strong>in</strong>a Mus¸<strong>at</strong>, <strong>in</strong>segnante, Istituto professionale «Nicolae Bălcescu», Oltenit¸a<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Cantacuz Cătăl<strong>in</strong>, Dana Andreea, Eftimie Laurent¸iu,<br />
M<strong>in</strong>cu Loredana, Zamfir Ioana,<br />
studenti dell’istituto professionale «Nicolae Bălcescu», Oltenit¸a<br />
Non credo che scopriranno mai dove mi trovo…<br />
Non si preoccupano di me, hanno i loro problemi, le loro aride e <strong>in</strong>f<strong>in</strong>ite beghe,<br />
<strong>in</strong> cui io non entro se non come spett<strong>at</strong>ore silenzioso, né più né meno di un<br />
pezzo di mobilio. In effetti non so nemmeno io come reagire… non ho più le <strong>parole</strong><br />
per farlo, non saprei a chi rivolgermi: forse a mio padre, con cui mi trovo meglio,<br />
o forse con mia madre, d<strong>at</strong>o che le poche volte che siamo and<strong>at</strong>e a far compere<br />
<strong>in</strong>sieme mi sono divertita con lei. Ma la cosa migliore è non parlare con nessuno,<br />
d<strong>at</strong>o che non è necessario!<br />
Andreea…<br />
Chiamerò lei… ha un sacco di amici… di sicuro saprà aiutarmi…<br />
Ai miei genitori manderò un messaggio: «Non vi preoccup<strong>at</strong>e. Sono dai nonni,<br />
<strong>in</strong> campagna».<br />
E perché dovrei scrivergli? Forse sarebbe meglio tenerli all’oscuro di tutto! Tanto<br />
mamma lo leggerebbe solo una volta arriv<strong>at</strong>a a casa, e noterebbe appena che<br />
l’ho scritto io!<br />
Adesso mando un altro messaggio ad Andreea… non ho soldi per una chiam<strong>at</strong>a:<br />
«Chiamami. Non ho credito sulla prepag<strong>at</strong>a. Vado via di casa».<br />
Guardo il mio telefono e vedo, senza stupirmi, che c’è solo una tacca di b<strong>at</strong>teria.<br />
Ci mancava anche questa. Mi viene voglia di buttarlo per terra e di scordarmi<br />
di tutto quello che c’è <strong>in</strong>torno a me. Mentre guardo la mia ombra piccola ed esile,<br />
mi domando se c’è qualcuno al mondo che mi pensi… che mi chiami, che gri-<br />
495
di il mio nome, che mi aiuti con un consiglio da amico. Guardo il telefono rosso<br />
e mi torna <strong>in</strong> mente che me l’ha regal<strong>at</strong>o un ragazzo, il mio primo ragazzo, e che<br />
mia madre ha accolto la mia gioia con una tremenda serie di frust<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Quella fu la mia prima fuga da casa e da scuola… Andai a casa sua… Poi venne la<br />
polizia e le dichiarazioni e problemi a non f<strong>in</strong>ire… e il freddo, senza un’emozione.<br />
Allora non ero sola come adesso; c’erano i miei compagni di scuola a occuparsi<br />
di me, ad aiutarmi.<br />
Adesso non mi chiama nessuno…<br />
Aspetto… aspetto… aspetto.<br />
Sono due m<strong>in</strong>uti e trenta secondi che fisso il telefono.<br />
Sono stufa e ho fame. Mi passo la mano sulla pancia coperta da un pesante maglione<br />
di lana verde, il mio preferito. L’ho messo perché lo so che mi porta fortuna!<br />
Passo davanti a una vetr<strong>in</strong>a e senza volere vedo la mia faccia… Sembro buffa,<br />
col vento che mi arruffa i capelli, poi di colpo divento triste e sto per piangere, per<br />
colpire la vetr<strong>in</strong>a che ha stravolto la faccia che conoscevo così bene. Mi do un’altra<br />
occhi<strong>at</strong>a e mi asciugo le lacrime; prendo un fazzoletto dalla borsa perché il mio<br />
make-up del m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>o ha avuto un serio dissesto.<br />
Mi guardo <strong>in</strong>torno. La strada è vuota, nessuno vede quanto soffro… non c’è<br />
nessuno vic<strong>in</strong>o a me… sono di nuovo sola!<br />
Ecco come sono, sola!<br />
Il telefono…<br />
«Domani a scuola dobbiamo portare il libro degli esercizi di m<strong>at</strong>em<strong>at</strong>ica. Il mio<br />
è a casa tua. Per favore, riportamelo domani. Diana».<br />
Devo risponderle.<br />
«Domani non posso venire a scuola. Credo che non verrò più, ho dei problemi<br />
personali che devo risolvere con urgenza. Prendi <strong>in</strong> prestito il libro da qualcuno<br />
dei compagni, e il problema è tuo. Mi dispiace! Mar<strong>in</strong>a».<br />
Arrivano due messaggi mentre scrivo le mie p<strong>at</strong>etiche scuse a Diana.<br />
«Vediamoci al bar. Vengo col mio ragazzo e con Ionut¸, il tuo compagno di<br />
classe. Andreea».<br />
Credevo che Andreea fosse grande, ma ha sedici anni e si comporta come una<br />
bamb<strong>in</strong>a vizi<strong>at</strong>a di dieci. Ha tutto il diritto di fare così, perché i suoi genitori la capiscono<br />
perfettamente <strong>in</strong> tutto quello che fa… e poi il suo ragazzo è gentile e tanto<br />
paziente.<br />
Mi domando che c’entra quello sfig<strong>at</strong>o di Ionut¸ e perché Andreea debba portarselo<br />
dietro. Tutti sapranno quello che devo fare, ma ormai non è più il caso di<br />
pensarci.<br />
Devo leggere l’altro messaggio: «Sei pazza, Mar<strong>in</strong>a? Mancano poche settimane<br />
alla f<strong>in</strong>e dell’anno!!! Se il preside lo scopre sei morta!!! Spero sia un brutto scherzo<br />
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e che tu torni <strong>in</strong> te entro domani e ti rendi conto del disastro che stai comb<strong>in</strong>ando.<br />
Se ti serve una mano, io ci sono. Diana».<br />
Una mano? E chi può darmi una mano?<br />
«Non preoccuparti per me. Stavolta me la cavo da sola».<br />
Sola… sola… sola.<br />
I miei non si sono nemmeno accorti della mia assenza! Se vado a scuola, scoprirò<br />
che la prof di Chimica non vuole promuovermi per ovvie ragioni: assenze su<br />
assenze su assenze. Però non mi ha mai chiesto se sono felice con la mia famiglia,<br />
se mio padre passa un po’ di tempo con me, se mia madre, così <strong>in</strong>telligente e sempre<br />
presissima dal suo lavoro strapag<strong>at</strong>o, si è almeno accorta che… sono <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta…<br />
L’ho detto… Non credevo che sarei mai st<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> grado di dirlo a voce alta… voglio<br />
dirlo ancora… gridarlo… Sono <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta!<br />
Un suono strano mi scuote dal sogno che ho sovrapposto alla triste realtà. Il<br />
telefono mi annuncia che la b<strong>at</strong>teria è sul punto di esaurirsi, così come le mie speranze!<br />
«Mar<strong>in</strong>a, ti stiamo aspettando al bar. Dove sei?».<br />
Con le ultime energie della b<strong>at</strong>teria le rispondo: «Mi sa che non posso più venire.<br />
Un piccolo cambiamento di programma. Ho f<strong>at</strong>to una scoperta meravigliosa…<br />
Non preoccuparti per me! Divertitevi! Mar<strong>in</strong>a».<br />
Il vento soffiava freddo e mi sferzava la faccia, mentre i pensieri mi tormentavano.<br />
La notte avrebbe port<strong>at</strong>o con sé la soluzione ai miei problemi: parlare s<strong>in</strong>ceramente<br />
con la mia famiglia.<br />
497
Abbandono scolastico.<br />
La tragedia di un tredicenne<br />
COORDINATORE<br />
N<strong>at</strong>alia Oproiu, Associazione «No Abuse», Bucarest.<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Ică Alexandru, Oproiu Eduard Gabriel, Radu Cătăl<strong>in</strong><br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Sono un ragazzo di tredici anni e ho un mucchio di problemi. Non so<br />
più cosa siano la felicità e la tenerezza, che dovrebbero essere nella vita di un<br />
bamb<strong>in</strong>o della mia età. Inizia così la storia di un tredicenne. Un giorno andò<br />
al merc<strong>at</strong>o a comprare pane e p<strong>at</strong><strong>at</strong>e – era tutto quel che la sua famiglia poteva<br />
permettersi – e <strong>in</strong>contrò un ex compagno di scuola, che era ormai al settimo<br />
anno e che gli domandò:<br />
Gabriel: Ciao! Sei Darius, il ragazzo che ha lasci<strong>at</strong>o la scuola <strong>in</strong> seconda, a soli otto<br />
anni?<br />
Darius: Ciao! Sì, è vero, mi chiamo Darius e ho lasci<strong>at</strong>o la scuola, ma non è st<strong>at</strong>a<br />
colpa mia. È st<strong>at</strong>o per via dei problemi che avevo e che ho ancora. Non ti conosco,<br />
non so chi sei… se hai tempo per ascoltarmi, voglio raccontarti dell’altro,<br />
perché ho bisogno di parlare con qualcuno che mi stia a sentire. Anzi, veramente<br />
vorrei tanto avere un amico.<br />
Gabriel: Va bene, da adesso <strong>in</strong> poi puoi considerarmi tuo amico; ora andiamo<br />
al parco, così parliamo.<br />
Darius: Mi dispiace molto. Adesso non posso venire, i miei fr<strong>at</strong>ell<strong>in</strong>i mi aspettano<br />
a casa, con la spesa di cui ti ho parl<strong>at</strong>o, pane e p<strong>at</strong><strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Gabriel: Allora quando vuoi che ci vediamo?<br />
Darius: Domani porto i miei fr<strong>at</strong>elli al parco, potremmo parlare lì. Grazie per la<br />
tua amicizia, ci vediamo domani. A presto!<br />
Gabriel: Ciao!<br />
498
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Il giorno dopo, Darius andò al parco coi suoi fr<strong>at</strong>elli e <strong>in</strong>contrò il suo<br />
amico.<br />
Gabriel: Ciao, Darius! Come stai?<br />
Darius: Ciao! Però non so come ti chiami, amico mio.<br />
Gabriel: Ieri ho dimentic<strong>at</strong>o di presentarmi. Sono Gabriel e voglio saperne di più<br />
sui motivi per cui ha lasci<strong>at</strong>o la scuola. Com’è successo? Eri il migliore della<br />
classe, avevi sempre il massimo dei voti e tanti amici. Quando i compagni hanno<br />
saputo che non venivi più a scuola, sono rimasti sconvolti, me compreso.<br />
Darius: Prima di raccontarti la mia vera storia, perché voglio dirti la verità, voglio<br />
presentarti i miei fr<strong>at</strong>ell<strong>in</strong>i. Lei è Maria, ha sei anni, mentre Cătăl<strong>in</strong> ne ha dieci.<br />
And<strong>at</strong>e adesso a giocare! Mi dispiace tanto per Maria, perché ha molto talento,<br />
una bella voce, canta <strong>in</strong> cont<strong>in</strong>uazione, ma non posso fare niente perché il<br />
suo talento sia scoperto. Adesso ti dirò perché ho lasci<strong>at</strong>o la scuola. La scuola è il<br />
mio sogno. Ci tornerò più avanti, quando mio padre deciderà di tornare.<br />
Gabriel: Perché? Dov’è and<strong>at</strong>o?<br />
Darius: È successo tutto per causa sua. Eravamo una famiglia felice, andavamo a<br />
scuola, stavamo bene f<strong>in</strong>o a quando mio padre, avido di maggiori guadagni,<br />
non ha deciso di andare all’estero. Non gli bastava vivere dignitosamente, voleva<br />
una vita agi<strong>at</strong>a. Non ha pens<strong>at</strong>o a noi, alla mamma, al f<strong>at</strong>to che saremmo<br />
rest<strong>at</strong>i soli, era un egoista. I nostri guai sono com<strong>in</strong>ci<strong>at</strong>i per colpa sua. All’<strong>in</strong>izio<br />
ci mandava i soldi necessari per mangiare e pagare i conti. Ma dopo un po’<br />
si è scord<strong>at</strong>o di noi.<br />
Gabriel: Come ha potuto scordarsi di voi?<br />
Darius: Ha dimentic<strong>at</strong>o che a casa aveva una moglie, dei figli. Ha smesso di telefonare,<br />
figuriamoci mandare i soldi… Allora la mamma lavorava dalla m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a<br />
f<strong>in</strong>o alla sera tardi per poterci mantenere e, dopo aver f<strong>at</strong>ic<strong>at</strong>o tanto per<br />
farci crescere come si deve, una mal<strong>at</strong>tia <strong>in</strong>curabile l’ha costretta a letto…<br />
Gabriel: Che mal<strong>at</strong>tia?<br />
Darius: Siccome stava molto male siamo and<strong>at</strong>i dal dottore; pensava che fosse<br />
la stanchezza, lo stress, <strong>in</strong>vece ha scoperto che aveva il cancro e dei problemi al<br />
cuore. A farle male al cuore è st<strong>at</strong>o mio padre, ma del cancro non so nulla…<br />
Sono troppo piccolo, e tutto questo va oltre la mia comprensione. Non si dava<br />
pace perché dopo la sua morte noi saremmo rimasti con i nonni, che sono<br />
vecchi e mal<strong>at</strong>i. Ma non è tutto. Dopo un anno di sofferenza e tormenti, è<br />
morta di un <strong>at</strong>tacco di cuore.<br />
Gabriel: Cosa può esserci di peggio che perdere la propria madre?<br />
Darius: Quando ho saputo che mia madre era morta, ho piano tanto, sono st<strong>at</strong>o<br />
malissimo. Allora la nonna mi ha port<strong>at</strong>o dal dottore e lui ha detto che ero depresso<br />
a causa del trauma; ho anche il diabete, forse una conseguenza del dolo-<br />
499
e, non lo so. Dopo la morte della mamma ci sono st<strong>at</strong>i mesi di lutto e di angoscia,<br />
la nonna ha chiesto prestiti dappertutto per il fare il funerale, per le offerte<br />
e per le <strong>in</strong>iezioni di <strong>in</strong>sul<strong>in</strong>a che ancora oggi devo fare tre volte al giorno. Ho<br />
dovuto lasciare la scuola perché non avevo soldi né per mangiare e per le medic<strong>in</strong>e,<br />
figurarsi se potevo comprare l’occorrente per la scuola e la divisa scolastica.<br />
Non ho la fortuna che hai tu, dei genitori che si prendono cura di me, sono<br />
il fr<strong>at</strong>ello più grande e devo fare da padre ai miei fr<strong>at</strong>elli, prendermi cura di loro.<br />
Gabriel: Perché devi prenderti cura di loro? Non ci sono i tuoi nonni a occuparsi<br />
di voi?<br />
Darius: I nonni sono molto vecchi e mal<strong>at</strong>i. Temono che, se muoiono, lo St<strong>at</strong>o<br />
ci metterà all’orfanotrofio. Nonna prega ogni giorno che Dio la tenga <strong>in</strong> vita<br />
f<strong>in</strong>o al ritorno di papà, o f<strong>in</strong>ché non saremo grandi abbastanza da poter lavorare,<br />
e non ci port<strong>in</strong>o all’orfanotrofio. Nonna prega anche di trovare i soldi<br />
per pagare i grossi debiti che ha f<strong>at</strong>to a causa della mia mal<strong>at</strong>tia, perché lo St<strong>at</strong>o<br />
non mi garantisce le medic<strong>in</strong>e che mi servono. Anche a loro servono le medic<strong>in</strong>e,<br />
e, pover<strong>in</strong>i, ci hanno r<strong>in</strong>unci<strong>at</strong>o per me, <strong>in</strong> più c’è il mangiare e le bollette<br />
che bisogna pagare, senza contare scarpe e vestiti… delle persone generose<br />
ci regalano la loro roba.<br />
Gabriel: Non sapevo che ti fossero capit<strong>at</strong>i tutti questi guai. Mi dispiace tanto,<br />
parlerò coi miei genitori, mio padre è un poliziotto e forse può trovare tuo padre,<br />
dirgli di tornare a casa.<br />
Darius: Non credo che tornerà, anche se lo trovaste.<br />
Gabriel: Perché la pensi così?<br />
Darius: Si è scord<strong>at</strong>o della nostra esistenza. Forse ha un’altra famiglia adesso, altri<br />
figli. Un uomo può cambiare <strong>in</strong> c<strong>in</strong>que anni, non credi?<br />
Gabriel: Non so cosa credere, ma sono sicuro che ti vuole bene. Forse gli è successo<br />
qualcosa, non ci hai pens<strong>at</strong>o?<br />
Darius: Quello che ho pass<strong>at</strong>o mi ha f<strong>at</strong>to crescere <strong>in</strong> fretta e ormai trovo difficile<br />
credere a sogni e speranze. S<strong>in</strong>ceramente, non credo che tornerà o che sia<br />
mal<strong>at</strong>o. Sono già pass<strong>at</strong>i c<strong>in</strong>que anni. In c<strong>in</strong>que anni avrebbe dovuto fare almeno<br />
una telefon<strong>at</strong>a, per dirci se era ammal<strong>at</strong>o, se tornava a casa o se ci voleva<br />
ancora bene. Onestamente credo che mio padre ci abbia abbandon<strong>at</strong>o così<br />
come io ho abbandon<strong>at</strong>o la scuola, e non perché non avessi voglia di venire<br />
a lezione, ma a causa di tutta questa situazione.<br />
Gabriel: Mi dispiace tanto per te. Non sapevo che la tua vita fosse una tale tragedia.<br />
Ma lo sai, la speranza è l’ultima a morire. Ti aiuterò come posso, perché<br />
ti sei aperto con me e mi hai raccont<strong>at</strong>o la tua storia.<br />
Darius: Grazie mille per la tua comprensione, spero di rivederti presto, se ti va di<br />
parlare ancora con me dopo aver saputo che soffro di diabete.<br />
500
Gabriel: Certo che ci rivediamo. Siamo amici, no?<br />
Darius: Certo. A presto!<br />
Gabriel: A presto!<br />
Darius: Maria, Cătăl<strong>in</strong>, andiamo a casa!<br />
Maria: Restiamo a giocare un altro po’.<br />
Darius: Non possiamo restare. La nonna è mal<strong>at</strong>a, e si preoccuperà.<br />
Maria: Va bene, arrivo.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: I bamb<strong>in</strong>i andarono a casa, ma il più grande, Darius, stava pensando<br />
a suo padre e si faceva domande come: è colpa nostra se ci è successo tutto<br />
questo? Ho commesso qualche errore? Ho f<strong>at</strong>to arrabbiare papà al punto che<br />
ha deciso di lasciarci? Sono sicuro che non gli importa niente di noi… Ma se<br />
per miracolo papà tornasse, io potrei andare di nuovo a scuola.<br />
Darius: Ma è meglio non sognare, e io credo che il dest<strong>in</strong>o abbia voluto che ci capitasse<br />
questa tragedia. Però prego Dio che mi faccia stare meglio e mi faccia<br />
cadere un aiuto dal cielo, <strong>in</strong> modo che i nonni possano pagare i debiti, e che<br />
le pensioni dei nonni siano raddoppi<strong>at</strong>e e che il nostro sussidio sociale di soli<br />
dieci euro venga aument<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: E il miracolo avvenne: il padre di Gabriel fece qualche ricerca e qualche<br />
telefon<strong>at</strong>a e trovò il padre di Darius, gli disse della morte di sua moglie e<br />
del f<strong>at</strong>to che il figlio maggiore, Darius, non andava più scuola. Quando seppe<br />
queste cose il padre di Darius prese subito l’aereo e andò <strong>in</strong> Romania, a casa<br />
sua, dai suoi bamb<strong>in</strong>i. I nonni disper<strong>at</strong>i stavano pregando Dio perché facesse<br />
un miracolo. Poi il miracolo ci fu davvero, perché il padre dei ragazzi tornò<br />
a casa dall’estero con tanti soldi. Nel vederlo, i bamb<strong>in</strong>i non poterono tr<strong>at</strong>tenere<br />
le lacrime dall’emozione e dalla gioia. I nonni dissero che ora potevano<br />
morire <strong>in</strong> pace, perché qualcuno si sarebbe preso cura dei loro nipoti. Quando<br />
seppe dei debiti dei nonni, il padre li pagò tutti, pentito com’era di essersi<br />
dimentic<strong>at</strong>o dei suoi ragazzi per c<strong>in</strong>que anni, e addolor<strong>at</strong>o che il figlio maggiore,<br />
Darius, si fosse ammal<strong>at</strong>o e avesse lasci<strong>at</strong>o la scuola. Scoprì che nemmeno<br />
gli altri due andavano a lezione. Così il padre andò alla scuola e iscrisse i<br />
bamb<strong>in</strong>i: Maria e Cătăl<strong>in</strong> alla prima, e Darius alla terza, perché potesse riprendere<br />
da dove aveva <strong>in</strong>terrotto.<br />
501
SCENA I<br />
Fr<strong>at</strong>elli<br />
COORDINATORE<br />
Ana Maria, Centro «S<strong>in</strong>tagma», Bucarest;<br />
Elisabeta S¸erbănescu, Associazione «No Abuse», Bucarest<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Maria Petre, Alexandra Sava, Alexandru Niculae<br />
Buio. Si sentono le voci di due bamb<strong>in</strong>i.<br />
Giany: Alex…<br />
Alex: Che succede?<br />
Giany: Quando saremo grandi, tu sarai ancora mio fr<strong>at</strong>ello?<br />
Alex [<strong>in</strong> tono conv<strong>in</strong>to]: Certo. Nulla potrà mai dividerci!<br />
Giany: E prometti di occuparti di me?<br />
Alex: Te lo prometto! F<strong>in</strong>o alla morte! Ma che ti è preso, così all’improvviso?<br />
Giany [un po’ spavent<strong>at</strong>o]: Non lo so, Alex, ma… [con voce tremante] Ho paura.<br />
Ho tanta paura.<br />
SCENA II<br />
Buio. Bussano diverse volte alla porta. Luci basse illum<strong>in</strong>ano i due fr<strong>at</strong>elli che fanno<br />
i compiti a un angolo della scena. Sulla s<strong>in</strong>istra il padre, nervoso e agit<strong>at</strong>o, fuma seduto<br />
<strong>in</strong> poltrona. Di tanto <strong>in</strong> tanto scuote la sigaretta sul posacenere pos<strong>at</strong>o per terra e<br />
sorseggia v<strong>in</strong>o da un bicchiere. Dal l<strong>at</strong>o s<strong>in</strong>istro entra la madre, con gli occhi cerchi<strong>at</strong>i<br />
e borse e sacchetti <strong>in</strong> entrambe le mani. Chiude la porta. Sospira.<br />
502
Padre [agit<strong>at</strong>o]: Adesso ti presenti, stupida donna?<br />
Madre [con voce tremante]: Beh… Ero…<br />
Padre [furioso]: Al bordello eri, sgualdr<strong>in</strong>a! Quello è il tuo posto!<br />
I ragazzi mettono da parte i libri. Giany <strong>in</strong>izia a tremare, Alex gli copre le orecchie<br />
con le mani. Intanto, il padre si alza e va verso le borse che la madre ha pos<strong>at</strong>o sul tavolo.<br />
Ne controlla il contenuto, poi si volta verso sua moglie.<br />
Padre: Dov’è la mia bottiglia? Puttana!<br />
Madre: Ma non ti vergogni nemmeno un po’? Lavoro tutto il giorno, la vita è<br />
dura e hai il coraggio di chiedermi di spendere i soldi per del v<strong>in</strong>o? Che cosa<br />
diamo da mangiare a questi bamb<strong>in</strong>i? L’aria? Tu bevi troppo, amico mio! La<br />
bottiglia sarà la tua rov<strong>in</strong>a, dammi retta!<br />
Il padre schiaffeggia la madre.<br />
Padre: Non dirmi quanto devo bere!<br />
Dal l<strong>at</strong>o destro della scena i bamb<strong>in</strong>i si alzano <strong>in</strong> difesa della madre. Il padre li sp<strong>in</strong>ge<br />
via.<br />
Padre: Lev<strong>at</strong>evi, sudici marmocchi! And<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong> camera vostra a studiare!<br />
Madre: Non provare a toccarli! Che ti hanno f<strong>at</strong>to, adesso? Non hanno f<strong>at</strong>to<br />
niente di male!<br />
Padre: Sta’ zitta! V<strong>at</strong>tene! Non voglio vederti!<br />
Il padre sp<strong>in</strong>tona la madre, che cade a terra. Apre la borsa, prende dei soldi ed esce<br />
dalla scena. I bamb<strong>in</strong>i si ch<strong>in</strong>ano sulla madre e piangono. Dopo qualche secondo<br />
Giany si alza e si mette a correre. Esce dal l<strong>at</strong>o s<strong>in</strong>istro della scena. Alex rimane ch<strong>in</strong>o<br />
su sua madre. Le tiene la mano e cont<strong>in</strong>ua a piangere. La luce si concentra su di loro,<br />
poi si spegne.<br />
SCENA III<br />
Buio. Sul l<strong>at</strong>o destro del palco, all’angolo di un palazzo, alcuni ragazzi ridono e parlano<br />
tra loro. Qualcuno accenna un passo di break dance o hip-hop. Sulla destra,<br />
Giany si siede su un grad<strong>in</strong>o e guarda gli altri con occhi tristi. Dopo qualche secondo<br />
la musica f<strong>in</strong>isce.<br />
503
Giany: Perché sono così contenti? Come fanno a non avere un pensiero al mondo?<br />
Perché a loro va tutto bene? Non credo di poter resistere a lungo. È tutto<br />
così difficile da quando è morta la mamma. E il mio vecchio… non lo vedo da<br />
un mese. [Sospira]. Come posso dimenticarmi tutto questo? Potrò mai fuggire?<br />
Devo provarci, almeno una volta. Non ho niente da perdere. Devo provare!<br />
Giany si alza e si avvic<strong>in</strong>a al gruppo. Sulle prime lo guardano con scetticismo, poi si<br />
danno la mano. Si sente ancora il pezzo hip-hop, mentre Giany parla con il capo della<br />
banda. Il quale all’<strong>in</strong>izio è titubante, poi offre una sigaretta a Giany,<br />
SCENA IV<br />
Stessa scena, stessa banda e Giany. Il capo prende Giany per il collo.<br />
Bullet: Forza fr<strong>at</strong>ello, dimmi, te la senti? Stavolta lo facciamo, vero?<br />
Giany [titubante]: D’accordo, Bullet. Facciamolo.<br />
Bullet: Un po’ di entusiasmo, amico! ’Fanculo! Dopo questo colpo sì che ci rispetteranno.<br />
Un altro membro della banda: Che succede, amico? Hai paura? Ci hai ripens<strong>at</strong>o?<br />
Giany: No, fr<strong>at</strong>ello, è che mi sembrano tutte cazz<strong>at</strong>e…<br />
Alex entra <strong>in</strong> scena e ascolta la conversazione.<br />
Bullet: Amico! Ci stai o no? Se non vuoi, nessun problema, ma non venire qui a<br />
far f<strong>in</strong>ta che siamo amici. Chi è che ti dà l’erba? Chi farà di te un vero dritto?<br />
Dimmelo! Sta a te, fr<strong>at</strong>ello!<br />
Giany: Sì, va bene, ok! Ci sto! Che altro posso fare?<br />
Bullet: Così mi piaci, fr<strong>at</strong>ello.<br />
Gli afferra di nuovo il collo. Si str<strong>in</strong>gono le mani. Alex si avvic<strong>in</strong>a e prende da parte<br />
Giany.<br />
Alex: Che ci fai con questi?<br />
Giany: Che vuoi? Che problemi hai?<br />
Alex: È per questo che non sei mai a casa? Che non vai a scuola?<br />
Giany: Ehm… sì. Anzi, no!<br />
Alex: Allora?<br />
Giany: Ma che… sono affari tuoi, per caso? Lasciami perdere! Merda!<br />
504
Alex: Stammi a sentire, fr<strong>at</strong>ello… Non va bene. Non va bene per niente, dovresti<br />
saperlo!<br />
Giany: Cos’è che non va bene? Che ne sai tu?<br />
Alex: Ne so abbastanza. Ascolta. Ho parl<strong>at</strong>o con la nonna e ce ne andremo da<br />
qui, Andiamo a stare da lei a Timis¸oara. Che ne pensi?<br />
Giany: Perché?<br />
Alex: Come sarebbe perché? Che ci stiamo a fare qui? Non lo vedi che siamo soli?<br />
Non abbiamo nessuno.<br />
Giany: Solo sarai tu! Sei troppo stupido.<br />
Alex: Perché parli <strong>in</strong> questo modo? Non lo capisci che dobbiamo andarci? Staremo<br />
laggiù; come facevamo durante le vacanze, solo che stavolta andremo anche<br />
a scuola lì. Sai che il nonno era <strong>in</strong>segnante. Ci troverà una buona scuola.<br />
Non ci sono problemi.<br />
Giany: Vacci tu! A me non <strong>in</strong>teressa.<br />
Bullet: Giany! Vieni un <strong>at</strong>timo qui, amico!<br />
Giany: Un <strong>at</strong>timo, Bullet. Aspetta un momento. [si rivolge ad Alex]. Lo vedi?<br />
Non sono solo. Non ho nessun problema. Non ti tr<strong>at</strong>tengo. Va’, se vuoi. Ma<br />
non chiedermi di venire con te.<br />
Alex: Io… sai… Volevo solo dirti… che sarebbe meglio così.<br />
Giany: Forse. Ma per ora non ci vengo. Resto qui.<br />
Alex: Va bene. Forse cambierai idea.<br />
Alex esce di scena. Giany riflette un po’.<br />
Giany [parlando a se stesso]: Non cambierò idea. Non cambierò mai idea.<br />
Si sente un brano dei B.U.G. Mafia, Avem acelas¸i sânge în v<strong>in</strong>e (‘Abbiamo lo stesso<br />
sangue nelle vene’) parla del tempo che passa. Un verso dice: «Saremo fr<strong>at</strong>elli f<strong>in</strong>ché<br />
la morte non ci dividerà».<br />
SCENA V<br />
Tre uom<strong>in</strong>i siedono <strong>in</strong>torno a un tavolo. Giocano a poker.<br />
Giany: Parola.<br />
Bullet: Io pure. Giany, sai che ho venduto tutto? La roba che hai port<strong>at</strong>o era buona.<br />
Terzo gioc<strong>at</strong>ore: Altri cento.<br />
505
Bullet: Vengo.<br />
Giany: Io pure. [si scopre l’ultima carta] È così che dicono i ragazzi? Che è buona?<br />
Gli è piaciuta, eh?<br />
Bullet: Sì, sì. Certo che gli piace. All <strong>in</strong>.<br />
Terzo gioc<strong>at</strong>ore: Ah! Sta bluffando! Gli si legge <strong>in</strong> faccia. Vengo.<br />
Giany: Passo.<br />
Dai l<strong>at</strong>i del palco delle figure <strong>in</strong>cappucci<strong>at</strong>e entrano <strong>in</strong> scena radunandosi lentamente<br />
<strong>in</strong>torno al tavolo.<br />
Terzo gioc<strong>at</strong>ore: Giany, amico, non ha niente; vuole solo metterci paura!<br />
Giany: Ho detto passo.<br />
Bullet: Forza, gioca e basta. Lascia stare Giany! Se ha detto passo, vuol dire passo.<br />
Terzo gioc<strong>at</strong>ore: Fammi vedere. Che hai?<br />
Bullet: Full!<br />
Terzo gioc<strong>at</strong>ore [gettando le carte]: Merda! Un’altra volta!<br />
Uno degli <strong>in</strong>cappucci<strong>at</strong>i: Polizia! Nessuno si muova!<br />
Giany tira fuori la pistola, il poliziotto <strong>in</strong>cappucci<strong>at</strong>o gli spara e lo colpisce. Giany cade<br />
a terra. Gli altri due vengono port<strong>at</strong>i via di scena ammanett<strong>at</strong>i dai poliziotti col<br />
cappuccio. Solo uno di loro resta <strong>in</strong> scena, si avvic<strong>in</strong>a a Giany e si toglie il cappuccio.<br />
È Alex.<br />
Alex [prende Giany per il gomito]: Muoviti!<br />
Giany: Ooh!<br />
Alex: Muoviti più <strong>in</strong> fretta o farà sempre più male!<br />
Giany: Cazz<strong>at</strong>e!<br />
Alex [stupito]: Giany! Giany, fr<strong>at</strong>ello, sei tu?<br />
Giany [guardandolo negli occhi]: No! [lo sp<strong>in</strong>ge via] Non sono tuo fr<strong>at</strong>ello, figlio<br />
di puttana! Ecco cosa sei, cosa sei divent<strong>at</strong>o, uno sbirro di merda!<br />
Alex: E tu allora? Senti chi parla! Tu che cosa sei divent<strong>at</strong>o? Guard<strong>at</strong>i…<br />
Giany: Sono affari miei!<br />
Alex: No, non sono solo affari tuoi. Perché tocca a me arrestarti, stronzo. Uno<br />
stronzo, ecco cosa sei divent<strong>at</strong>o!<br />
Giany: E allora arrestami!<br />
Alex: Non ti importa nemmeno di questo?<br />
Giany: Che fai, mi arresti o no? Fa’ quello che devi fare!<br />
Alex: Andrai <strong>in</strong> galera.<br />
506
Giany: Portamici! Portamici tu con le tue mani. Voglio vedere se sei mio fr<strong>at</strong>ello,<br />
bestia!<br />
Alex: Che vuoi dire? Vuoi che ti aiuti a scappare?<br />
Giany: No, portami alla polizia; è quello che fanno i fr<strong>at</strong>elli…<br />
Alex: Noi non sembriamo fr<strong>at</strong>elli.<br />
Giany: Lo eravamo. Lo saremmo ancora, se tu non fossi uno schifoso sbirro.<br />
Alex: Lo schifoso sbirro adesso ti porta di fil<strong>at</strong>o <strong>in</strong> caserma. Avrai quel che meriti.<br />
Mi dispiace ma è l’unica cosa da fare.<br />
Alex ammanetta Giany e lo scorta fuori dalla scena.<br />
SCENA VI<br />
Un tavolo al centro della stanza. Alex siede da una parte, Giany, ammanett<strong>at</strong>o, dall’altra.<br />
Alex gli porge un pacchetto.<br />
Alex: Ecco.<br />
Giany: Che roba è?<br />
Alex: Quello che mi hai chiesto.<br />
Giany: Sigarette?<br />
Alex: Sì. [osserva Giany] Vedo che hai il braccio <strong>in</strong>gess<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Giany [furioso]: ’Fanculo! Meglio restare senza che soffrire tanto.<br />
Alex: Stai vaneggiando. Non f<strong>in</strong>gere che non te ne importi.<br />
Tacciono entrambi per qualche secondo.<br />
Alex [alza lo sguardo su Giany]: Ho parl<strong>at</strong>o col giudice.<br />
Giany: Allora?<br />
Alex: Non so… Non hanno ancora deciso, lo sai bene.<br />
Giany: Ho capito. Grazie, fr<strong>at</strong>ello.<br />
Alex: Non c’è di che.<br />
Tacciono di nuovo, guardando <strong>in</strong> basso.<br />
Giany: Non ce la faccio più, lo vuoi capire? Non ce la faccio proprio più! Qui ci<br />
tr<strong>at</strong>tano come se non fossimo degli esseri umani.<br />
Alex: Andrò a parlare di nuovo…<br />
Giany: Con chi?<br />
507
Alex: Non preoccuparti. Conosco della gente <strong>in</strong>fluente, te l’ho detto. Vedrai, si<br />
sistemerà tutto. Almeno ti tr<strong>at</strong>teranno come si deve.<br />
Giany: Si sistemerà tutto? È così che la pensi? Che andrà tutto bene? Ma ti sei chiesto<br />
se è possibile? Considerando quello che ho f<strong>at</strong>to, credi che me lo meriti?<br />
Alex: È colpa di Bullet se sei qui. Ti sei lasci<strong>at</strong>o manipolare da lui. Era lui che volevamo<br />
prendere. Che cazzo ci facevi lì?<br />
Giany non risponde. Alex alza le spalle e lo guarda con <strong>in</strong>sistenza.<br />
Giany [senza guardare Alex]: Chi credi avrà pietà di me?<br />
Alex: Io! Io avrò pietà di te, fr<strong>at</strong>ello!.<br />
Giany: Avevi ragione, sono divent<strong>at</strong>o un figlio di puttana… come tutti gli altri.<br />
Alex: Volevo aiutarti, f<strong>in</strong> da quando eravamo ragazz<strong>in</strong>i.<br />
Giany: Ti prego, non ricordarmelo. Non ci voglio pensare. Credimi, se solo potessi<br />
tornare <strong>in</strong>dietro… Ti darei retta. Verrei con te a Timis¸oara, a scuola, ovunque…<br />
tu hai sempre saputo qual era la cosa migliore da fare.<br />
Alex: Sta’ tranquillo. Andrà bene. [gli prende le mani] Ti ricordi? Saremo fr<strong>at</strong>elli<br />
f<strong>in</strong>ché la morte non ci dividerà.<br />
Giany: È tutto quello che mi resta, perché non ti ho d<strong>at</strong>o ascolto quando avrei<br />
dovuto, fr<strong>at</strong>ello mio!<br />
Le luci si spengono sui due fr<strong>at</strong>elli che si str<strong>in</strong>gono le mani.<br />
508
Personaggi<br />
Bottiglie vuote<br />
COORDINATORE<br />
Vechiu Mihaela, Associazione «No Abuse», Bucarest.<br />
ASSISTENTI<br />
Aura Bardescu, Carmen Stanciu, Raluca Moisescu,<br />
volontari dell’Associazione «No Abuse», Bucarest.<br />
Gheorghe Gabriel & Vechiu Cristian, sessioni di <strong>in</strong>tervento.<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Simona Banu, Raluca Boba, Andreea Damian, Ana Maria Lazăr.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a ha sedici anni. È una ragazz<strong>in</strong>a esile, piuttosto alta (un metro e settanta),<br />
dai l<strong>in</strong>eamenti f<strong>in</strong>i, i capelli biondi n<strong>at</strong>urali, gli occhi chiari. Attira l’<strong>at</strong>tenzione<br />
sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto grazie ai suoi occhi, pesantemente trucc<strong>at</strong>i con mascara ed eye-l<strong>in</strong>er.<br />
Camm<strong>in</strong>a a testa alta, eretta. Talvolta ha un’espressione un po’ <strong>in</strong>ebetita. Non<br />
sorride. I muscoli del viso sono tesi, lo sguardo fisso, provocante e aggressivo. Ha<br />
sempre i capelli arruff<strong>at</strong>i, come se si fosse pett<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> gran fretta. Una specie di<br />
dichiarazione di anticonformismo. Porta quasi sempre jeans e maglietta, scarpe<br />
sportive o Kickers, mai sandali, né tacchi alti.<br />
Dopo che i suoi genitori hanno divorzi<strong>at</strong>o è divent<strong>at</strong>a estremamente aggressiva.<br />
Non ha amiche. Sembra preferire la compagnia dei maschi e si trova a proprio<br />
agio coi ragazzi. In loro compagnia ride forte, gesticola, parla a voce alta e dice parolacce.<br />
Usa cont<strong>in</strong>uamente il cellulare, lo mette sempre sopra il pacchetto di sigarette<br />
che posa sul tavolo. Lo usa per parlare, per mandare messaggi, il telefono<br />
sembra la cosa più preziosa per lei. A scuola è abitu<strong>at</strong>a ad essere temuta dalle altre.<br />
Non solo è sgarb<strong>at</strong>a con loro e le m<strong>in</strong>accia, ma è sempre pronta ad aggredirle. Si<br />
stupisce e si irrita molto quando qualcuno dei suoi compagni risponde alle sue<br />
provocazioni o sembra deciso ad affrontarla. Entr<strong>at</strong>a nel gruppo di ragazzi del<br />
509
quartiere, ha com<strong>in</strong>ci<strong>at</strong>o a fumare marijuana. Sembra molto vic<strong>in</strong>a a un ragazzo<br />
un po’ più grande di lei che fa t<strong>at</strong>uaggi. Va molto fiera del t<strong>at</strong>uaggio che ha sul<br />
collo, il disegno di una foglia di marijuana. Aderisce il più possibile allo stile di vita<br />
di lui, compresi i suoi gusti <strong>in</strong> f<strong>at</strong>to di musica, c<strong>in</strong>ema tempo libero.<br />
Padre<br />
Il padre ha circa quarant<strong>at</strong>ré anni, alto, un uomo m<strong>at</strong>uro ma ancora <strong>at</strong>traente.<br />
A volte è un po’ trasand<strong>at</strong>o: non si rade, porta la stessa maglietta e lo stesso paio di<br />
jeans per diversi giorni, ha l’aria stanca, forse perché fuma molto. Ha sempre una<br />
sigaretta accesa <strong>in</strong> mano o sul posacenere. Ha un lavoro d’ufficio da cui non sembra<br />
trarre grande soddisfazione. Quando torna a casa vuole solo sedersi sul divano<br />
e guardare la televisione. Si è spos<strong>at</strong>o giovane ed è subito arriv<strong>at</strong>a T<strong>in</strong>a. Gli capita<br />
spesso di non sapere come comunicare con lei. Vorrebbe che sua moglie facesse<br />
più <strong>at</strong>tenzione a T<strong>in</strong>a, sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto adesso che è un’adolescente. Da quando<br />
ha divorzi<strong>at</strong>o e ha conosciuto Dana, è molto preso dalla nuova relazione. Il<br />
tempo dedic<strong>at</strong>o a sua figlia si è ridotto drasticamente; T<strong>in</strong>a se ne accorge ma non<br />
sa come dirglielo.<br />
Madre<br />
La madre ha circa quarant’anni; ha capelli castani, pett<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>i per lo più <strong>in</strong> un<br />
leggero chignon. È alta, snella, una figura ancora giovane e piacente. È sempre <strong>in</strong><br />
movimento: al lavoro, dove ricopre un ruolo con importanti responsabilità, e a<br />
casa, dove ha sempre qualcosa da fare. Al lavoro si veste <strong>in</strong> modo austero ed elegante:<br />
gonna, tacchi alti, trucco discreto; a casa preferisce stare <strong>in</strong> jeans e maglietta,<br />
ma sempre con stile, trucc<strong>at</strong>a, con gli orecch<strong>in</strong>i, anelli alle mani. Va <strong>in</strong> palestra<br />
e dall’estetista; ha un’agenda molto ben organizz<strong>at</strong>a e di solito strapiena. Sembra<br />
sempre <strong>in</strong>daffar<strong>at</strong>a, e come <strong>in</strong> <strong>at</strong>tesa di un evento che cambi radicalmente la sua<br />
vita. Ultimamente non tollera più che si fumi <strong>in</strong> casa, e ha smesso di fumare. Ha<br />
dei tic nervosi: giocherellare con le chiavi, col telefon<strong>in</strong>o. Non ha molto tempo<br />
per T<strong>in</strong>a. Vorrebbe sapersi imporre di più con la figlia e col marito. Ha una voce<br />
autorevole f<strong>in</strong>ché rimane calma. Quando perde le staffe, e succede piuttosto<br />
spesso, la sua voce diventa stridula e disper<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Professore di Logica<br />
Giovane <strong>in</strong>segnante, trentac<strong>in</strong>que, massimo trentasette anni. Sempre ben vestito,<br />
sa di rappresentare un modello di riferimento per i suoi allievi al liceo. Offre<br />
uguali possibilità a tutti gli studenti. Non li giudica <strong>in</strong> base alle apparenze (per<br />
come vestono, ad esempio). Non li punisce quando non vengono alle sue lezioni.<br />
Cerca di essere obiettivo quanto possibile. È colpito dall’<strong>in</strong>telligenza di T<strong>in</strong>a,<br />
510
quando riesce a ottenere il massimo dei voti senza aver nemmeno assistito alla<br />
spiegazione, come gli altri studenti presenti <strong>in</strong> classe. Difende T<strong>in</strong>a al consiglio<br />
dei docenti ed è <strong>in</strong>tenzion<strong>at</strong>o a farle avere una seconda possibilità.<br />
Preside Mândrut¸escu<br />
La preside ha super<strong>at</strong>o la c<strong>in</strong>quant<strong>in</strong>a. Prima di diventare preside, era vicedirettrice.<br />
Adesso può f<strong>in</strong>almente imporre la propria volontà come a lungo ha desider<strong>at</strong>o<br />
di poter fare. Veste colori chiari (giacca e gonna), trucco chiaro e capelli<br />
biondi t<strong>in</strong>ti. Parla con fermezza, piuttosto <strong>in</strong> fretta, e ha il brutto vizio di <strong>in</strong>terrompere<br />
chiunque cerchi di esprimere o affermare un punto di vista. È divorzi<strong>at</strong>a<br />
e ha un figlio che ha lasci<strong>at</strong>o il paese tanto tempo fa. È molto severa riguardo alle<br />
regole della scuola e coltiva l’ambizione di <strong>in</strong>nalzare il livello dell’istituto applicando<br />
metodi radicali e str<strong>at</strong>egie messe a punto da lei stessa nel corso degli anni.<br />
Abusa del proprio potere e m<strong>in</strong>accia gli <strong>in</strong>segnanti di licenziarli ogni volta che si<br />
rifiutano di obbedire alle sue decisioni.<br />
Professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly<br />
Ha circa trent’anni, capelli lunghi e lisci, e porta gli occhiali. Indossa abiti e<br />
gonne ampi, non mette mai i tacchi e non si trucca. È sempre di corsa e ha con sé<br />
una grossa borsa, dove tiene alla r<strong>in</strong>fusa libri, taccu<strong>in</strong>i, agende. Come <strong>in</strong>segnante,<br />
è brava a imporsi di fronte agli studenti, ma senza essere severa. Ama il suo lavoro<br />
e gli allievi lo sentono. Cerca di conoscere i propri studenti e di comunicare<br />
con loro per quanto possibile. Non ha paura di esprimere le proprie op<strong>in</strong>ioni,<br />
anche quando non corrispondono a quelle degli altri <strong>in</strong>segnanti, e anche di fronte<br />
alla preside Mândrut¸escu.<br />
Leo, il ragazzo dei t<strong>at</strong>uaggi<br />
Ha circa diciotto anni, la testa ras<strong>at</strong>a, un fisico <strong>at</strong>letico, molti t<strong>at</strong>uaggi su tutto<br />
il corpo, e gira <strong>in</strong> canottiera. Ha lasci<strong>at</strong>o la scuola, vive facendo t<strong>at</strong>uaggi. Ha una<br />
moto di cui va molto fiero, ed è molto popolare tra i frequent<strong>at</strong>ori del bar dove<br />
vanno anche T<strong>in</strong>a e i suoi amici.<br />
Cristi, il tipo strano<br />
Ha diciotto o diciannove anni, porta sempre il berretto, ascolta musica hiphop,<br />
parla a voce alta e gli piace <strong>in</strong>sultare la gente, per poi giustificarsi dicendo<br />
che stava scherzando. Porta magliette verdi, con scritte che hanno sempre a che<br />
fare con l’«erba» e pantaloni larghissimi stile hip-hop.<br />
511
Lizi<br />
È nella stessa classe di T<strong>in</strong>a e ha circa sedici anni. È una studentessa diligente,<br />
va sempre a scuola, non provoca scandali; le piacciono alcune m<strong>at</strong>erie che studia<br />
anche nel tempo libero, ma <strong>in</strong> generale cerca di prendere buoni voti <strong>in</strong> tutte le<br />
m<strong>at</strong>erie. Porta la divisa, e di solito si lega i capelli <strong>in</strong> una coda di cavallo. È socievole<br />
per car<strong>at</strong>tere e ha diversi amici tra i compagni di classe. Non le piace essere<br />
<strong>in</strong>sult<strong>at</strong>a o guard<strong>at</strong>a dall’alto <strong>in</strong> basso. È l’unica ragazza <strong>in</strong> classe che ha il coraggio<br />
di affrontare T<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Amici, detti anche «La cricca»<br />
Hanno tra i diciassette e i vent’anni. Sempre avvolti <strong>in</strong> una nuvola di fumo,<br />
di sigaretta o di marijuana. Vestono <strong>in</strong> modi diversi, ma la maggior parte di loro<br />
si rifà allo stile hip-hop. Alcuni sfoggiano t<strong>at</strong>uaggi eseguiti da Leo.<br />
SCENA I<br />
Divergenze fra padre e madre<br />
L’azione ha luogo all’<strong>in</strong>terno di una famiglia rumena come tante, <strong>in</strong> una casa<br />
come tante, a Bucarest.<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
In fondo c’è una tenda, un armadio con i cassetti e una valigia. In fondo a s<strong>in</strong>istra<br />
c’è una porta (da cui esce la madre). A s<strong>in</strong>istra, sul davanti, c’è un divano (dove siede<br />
il padre). Sulla destra, un tavolo con tre sedie. Vic<strong>in</strong>o al tavolo, una seconda porta,<br />
socchiusa. Di fronte al divano ci sono un tavol<strong>in</strong>o da salotto e un televisore.<br />
Costumi<br />
Padre: pantaloni, maglietta e scarpe da g<strong>in</strong>nastica.<br />
Madre: jeans, giacch<strong>in</strong>o corto, una collana sottile, capelli racconti <strong>in</strong> uno chignon.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: jeans, maglietta, scarpe sportive di tela, capelli raccolti disord<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>amente.<br />
Indicazioni di scena<br />
Buio <strong>in</strong> sala. Passi nervosi di scarpe coi tacchi alti (tac tac tac). Le luci si accendono<br />
piano e illum<strong>in</strong>ano l’<strong>in</strong>tera scena: sono circa le dieci di sera, il padre è <strong>in</strong> casa,<br />
e fuma una sigaretta <strong>in</strong> soggiorno, la tivù è accesa e trasmette una partita di<br />
calcio. Lui si gode la sua sigaretta. Nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo la madre entra portando delle<br />
bottiglie. È lei che apre la scena.<br />
512
Madre: Perché non la smetti di guardare la televisione e <strong>in</strong>vece non mi dai una<br />
mano? [subito irrit<strong>at</strong>a e un po’ ironica].<br />
Padre [con <strong>in</strong>differenza]: Un momento… un momento…<br />
La madre aspetta qualche secondo, ma il padre non si alza. La donna si avvic<strong>in</strong>a e gli<br />
mette nervosamente le bottiglie sul tavolo.<br />
Padre: Che fai, donna?<br />
Madre: Muovi il culo e vedi di renderti utile <strong>in</strong> casa!<br />
Padre: Certo che scegli sempre il momento migliore…<br />
Madre [sarcastica]: Ah!!! Pover<strong>in</strong>o, ti disturbo… Certo… Quello che stai guardando<br />
sì che è importante. Domani vedrai anche la replica, scommetto.<br />
Padre [ironico]: Vuoi che faccia qualcosa? Guarda qua, allora! Ecco cosa faccio!<br />
[si alza, prende le bottiglie e le fa a pezzi]. Adesso lev<strong>at</strong>i dai piedi!<br />
Madre: Sei proprio un buono a nulla! Ne ho abbastanza di te! Non fai mai niente.<br />
Padre: Sì… sì. E che cosa vorresti che faccia? Tanto non sei mai soddisf<strong>at</strong>ta.<br />
Madre: Mi hai stuf<strong>at</strong>o. Ne ho abbastanza del tuo startene <strong>in</strong> panciolle.<br />
Padre: Sai una cosa? Se non ti piace, allora v<strong>at</strong>tene!<br />
La madre prepara la valigia con movimenti rapidi e violenti, borbottando sottovoce.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a entra dalla porta socchiusa e si <strong>in</strong>camm<strong>in</strong>a verso il fondo della scena, senza<br />
che sua madre si accorga di lei. La madre va verso l’uscita, la porta sulla s<strong>in</strong>istra, e la<br />
chiude <strong>in</strong> faccia alla figlia. Le luci si spengono di colpo.<br />
Si accende una luce su T<strong>in</strong>a. La ragazza appare sconvolta da quanto sta accedendo.<br />
Si sente ancora la partita <strong>in</strong> tivù e il padre che grida qualcosa.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: E adesso?<br />
Le luci si spengono lentamente illum<strong>in</strong>ando solo il volto teso e smarrito della ragazza.<br />
Poi, a poco a poco, si riaccendono. Appare sulla scena il Narr<strong>at</strong>ore, solo.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Una famiglia felice? Genitori <strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>i? Una figlia obbediente? Una<br />
figlia come tante? Nessuno sa o potrà mai sapere che cosa si nasconda dietro<br />
un ritr<strong>at</strong>to di famiglia, ma molti hanno dei pregiudizi. Molti possono riconoscersi<br />
<strong>in</strong> questa situazione. Comunque, lei è T<strong>in</strong>a. Questa non è solo una<br />
storia, può essere la realtà. A volte quello che ci serve è un banale pretesto…<br />
Le luci si affievoliscono pian piano, e il Narr<strong>at</strong>ore sparisce nell’ombra.<br />
513
(All’<strong>in</strong>izio, la scena può avere accenti comici, durante lo scambio di b<strong>at</strong>tute tra i due<br />
personaggi. Verso la f<strong>in</strong>e, quando la tensione sale e le bottiglie vengono f<strong>at</strong>te a pezzi,<br />
l’<strong>at</strong>mosfera è dramm<strong>at</strong>ica).<br />
SCENA II<br />
Estranei<br />
L’azione ha luogo <strong>in</strong> casa della stessa famiglia, alcuni mesi dopo che la Madre<br />
se ne è and<strong>at</strong>a. È la sera di un giorno di lavoro. T<strong>in</strong>a è <strong>in</strong> soggiorno, cerca di fare<br />
i compiti. All’<strong>in</strong>izio parla al telefono con una compagna di classe.<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
In fondo a s<strong>in</strong>istra c’è una porta. Sul davanti, a s<strong>in</strong>istra, un divano. Sulla destra,<br />
un tavolo con due sedie. Sul tavolo dovranno esserci due bicchieri e una bottiglia<br />
di v<strong>in</strong>o. Di fronte al divano un tavol<strong>in</strong>o da salotto e un televisore.<br />
Costumi<br />
Padre: una camicia con due bottoni aperti, pantaloni comodi e belle scarpe di<br />
camoscio.<br />
La nuova moglie: un ampio m<strong>in</strong>iabito, scarpe col tacco alto, calze di seta. Capelli<br />
sciolti.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: jeans, maglietta, scarpe sportive di tela, capelli raccolti e arruff<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
I colori dei costumi del padre e della nuova moglie sono a discrezione del costumista.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a è nella stanza, sul divano. Parla al telefono. Si sente la tivù a basso volume.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Non ce la faccio… Non so proprio come farò… Ci mancava solo questo!<br />
Non ci siamo pr<strong>at</strong>icamente più visti e…<br />
Il padre entra dalla porta sulla destra con due bicchieri e una bottiglia di v<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Ti richiamo presto! [ri<strong>at</strong>tacca] Ciao papà! [T<strong>in</strong>a si avvic<strong>in</strong>a al padre con il<br />
quaderno e la penna. Vuole chiedergli aiuto per un compito scolastico. Lui è esitante<br />
e distr<strong>at</strong>to] Papà, vieni un <strong>at</strong>timo, per favore! Voglio sapere la tua op<strong>in</strong>ione.<br />
Non se è meglio…<br />
Padre: Aspetta un momento!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Non ci vorrà molto…<br />
514
Il padre camm<strong>in</strong>a per la stanza, lei lo segue, ma lui va verso la porta sulla s<strong>in</strong>istra.<br />
Dalla porta entra una donna. Gli sorride. Lui le tende la mano e la <strong>in</strong>vita a entrare.<br />
Inizia una canzone, Tango to Evora di Loreena McKennit. I due si avvic<strong>in</strong>ano al<br />
tavolo del soggiorno ballando il tango. La scena del ballo serve a sottol<strong>in</strong>eare l’esclusività<br />
del rapporto tra i due. T<strong>in</strong>a si fa da parte e la coppia prende posto <strong>at</strong>torno al tavolo.<br />
Il padre e la nuova moglie ridono forte. I personaggi si immobilizzano. La ragazza<br />
guarda smarrita le due sedie e i bicchieri. Si sente ancora, soffusa, la canzone.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: E io? Dov’è il mio bicchiere?<br />
Riprende la canzone. I due ricom<strong>in</strong>ciano a muoversi, guardano T<strong>in</strong>a e le sorridono.<br />
L’espressione di T<strong>in</strong>a è leggermente impaurita. Il padre le presenta la sua nuova moglie.<br />
La musica resta <strong>in</strong> sottofondo, bassissima.<br />
Padre: Lei è Dana. Andrete molto d’accordo.<br />
Il volume della canzone sale. La ragazza ha un’espressione stupita ed è sul punto di<br />
piangere. Guardandola si capisce che tutto questo è un vero shock per lei. Lascia la scena<br />
tristemente. La canzone cont<strong>in</strong>ua f<strong>in</strong>o alla f<strong>in</strong>e della scena. Le luci si affievoliscono,<br />
si fanno soffuse. Il debole cono di luce segue T<strong>in</strong>a mentre si allontana dai due e va<br />
verso la porta sulla s<strong>in</strong>istra. Quando esce, il palco è completamente al buio.<br />
SCENA III<br />
La cricca<br />
L’azione ha luogo <strong>in</strong> un sem<strong>in</strong>terr<strong>at</strong>o. C’è un bar. Nel bar c’è un angolo <strong>in</strong> cui<br />
vengono eseguiti t<strong>at</strong>uaggi. Siamo nel cuore del centro di Bucarest, <strong>in</strong> un locale<br />
frequent<strong>at</strong>o da persone di un certo tipo. Tra queste, un gruppo di adolescenti eccentrici.<br />
Vivono nello stesso quartiere di T<strong>in</strong>a. Negli ultimi tempi esce spesso<br />
con loro. I ragazzi sono riuniti lì come al solito e hanno <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>at</strong>o anche lei.<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Sullo sfondo c’è una tenda. Vi vengono proiett<strong>at</strong>e delle scritte dall’<strong>in</strong>izio alla<br />
f<strong>in</strong>e di questa scena. Al centro del palco ci sono un divano e una poltrona.<br />
Tutt’<strong>in</strong>torno, bottiglie vuote e mozziconi di sigarette. Di fronte al divano c’è un<br />
tavol<strong>in</strong>o con un posacenere pieno e del liquido vers<strong>at</strong>o. Sul l<strong>at</strong>o destro, un tavolo<br />
e una sedia.<br />
515
Costumi<br />
I ragazzi <strong>in</strong>dossano ampi pantaloni da g<strong>in</strong>nastica e canottiere o magliette logore.<br />
Le ragazze portano jeans o pantalonc<strong>in</strong>i molto corti. Tutte usano l’eye-l<strong>in</strong>er<br />
nero. Il ragazzo dei t<strong>at</strong>uaggi porta una canottiera aderente nera e jeans lunghi f<strong>in</strong>o<br />
al polpaccio.<br />
Indicazioni di scena<br />
Sul divano siedono qu<strong>at</strong>tro ragazzi, mentre due ragazze stanno <strong>in</strong> piedi. Il ragazzo<br />
dei t<strong>at</strong>uaggi, Leo, siede solo al tavolo, e quando T<strong>in</strong>a lo raggiunge sposta la<br />
sedia per starle più vic<strong>in</strong>o. Aspira lunghe bocc<strong>at</strong>e dalla sigaretta, poi soffia via il fumo<br />
lentamente mentre fissa T<strong>in</strong>a. La scena è illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>a da luci color<strong>at</strong>e e soffuse.<br />
Dalla s<strong>in</strong>istra si accende una luce diffusa. La prima frase che appare sulla tenda<br />
è: «Non si fa lo stesso errore due volte, perché la seconda volta non è più un errore,<br />
ma una scelta». Allo stesso tempo parte la musica: Raise Your Glass di P<strong>in</strong>k.<br />
Sotto la luce, e con la musica <strong>in</strong> sottofondo, il bizzarro gruppo è già <strong>in</strong> scena. T<strong>in</strong>a<br />
è con loro, e si guarda <strong>in</strong>torno come alla ricerca di qualcosa. Si mescola con gli<br />
altri. Le offrono uno sp<strong>in</strong>ello.<br />
Uno dei ragazzi: Benvenuta, piccola!<br />
Iniziano a ballare a ritmo della musica. La ragazza prende lo sp<strong>in</strong>ello e aspira diverse<br />
bocc<strong>at</strong>e. Tossisce, ma cont<strong>in</strong>ua a fumare. Sorride mesta e <strong>in</strong>espressiva. Si mette a<br />
ballare sotto l’effetto della marijuana. Nello stesso st<strong>at</strong>o, si avvic<strong>in</strong>a al tavolo. Un ragazzo<br />
si sta facendo fare un t<strong>at</strong>uaggio.<br />
Ragazzo: Cosa provi <strong>in</strong> questo momento?<br />
Lei gli mostra lo sp<strong>in</strong>ello.<br />
Cambia la canzone: adesso c’è Drumurile 1 , di Spike. Si sente solo il ritornello, <strong>in</strong> sottofondo.<br />
I ragazzi la fanno ballare a turno e ripetono il verso della canzone. La musica<br />
resta <strong>in</strong> sord<strong>in</strong>a, tutti gli altri ballano <strong>in</strong>torno.<br />
Noi suntem pe drum, venim acum, as¸tept<strong>at</strong>¸i-ne<br />
Nu suntem departe, tre să văspun<br />
Că suntem tot¸i grămadă s¸i suntem praf<br />
Ni se rupe dacă n-ajungem cum am plec<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Noi suntem pe drum, venim acum, as¸tept<strong>at</strong>¸i-ne<br />
Nu suntem departe, tre să văspun<br />
516
Că suntem tot¸i grămadă s¸i suntem praf<br />
Ni se rupe dacă n-ajungem cum am plec<strong>at</strong>.<br />
Traduzione: Stiamo arrivando, ci siamo quasi, aspettaci / Non manca molto,<br />
devo dirtelo / Siamo <strong>in</strong> tanti e siamo a brandelli / Non ce ne frega niente di tornare<br />
nelle stesse condizioni <strong>in</strong> cui siamo partiti.<br />
La musica si <strong>in</strong>terrompe di colpo, e i personaggi sulla scena si immobilizzano. La canzone<br />
viene sostituita da un’altra: Br<strong>in</strong>g Me to Life, Evanescence. La luce rimane soffusa.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a si siede, si protende verso Leo e si fa fare un t<strong>at</strong>uaggio sul l<strong>at</strong>o s<strong>in</strong>istro del<br />
collo. Lui emette una ris<strong>at</strong>a languida e sardonica. Le disegna sulla pelle una foglia di<br />
marijuana. Una terza luce, più <strong>in</strong>tensa, sostituisce le altre.<br />
SCENA IV<br />
In classe. A lezione di Logica<br />
L’azione si svolge nel liceo <strong>in</strong> cui studia T<strong>in</strong>a. Negli ultimi tempi ha mar<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o<br />
spesso la scuola. Si avvic<strong>in</strong>ano le vacanze, e lei decide di andare a lezione, benché<br />
senza molto <strong>in</strong>teresse.<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Sul l<strong>at</strong>o s<strong>in</strong>istro ci sono la c<strong>at</strong>tedra e una sedia. Una lavagna a fogli mobili. Un<br />
pennarello pos<strong>at</strong>o sopra la c<strong>at</strong>tedra. Sulla tenda <strong>in</strong> fondo vengono proiett<strong>at</strong>e le<br />
immag<strong>in</strong>i di una scolaresca <strong>in</strong> uniforme. Sul l<strong>at</strong>o destro ci sono sette sedie e piccoli<br />
banchi.<br />
Costumi<br />
Insegnante: completo giacca e pantaloni, cappotto, scarpe.<br />
Studenti: camicia bianca, pantaloni o gonna, le ragazze sono trucc<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong> modo<br />
leggero.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: jeans, maglietta, scarpe sportive di tela, occhi pesantemente trucc<strong>at</strong>i,<br />
cellulare pos<strong>at</strong>o <strong>in</strong> bella vista sul banco.<br />
Indicazioni di scena<br />
Ci sono sette studenti, per lo più ragazze. Una di loro è Lizi. T<strong>in</strong>a siede al banco<br />
da sola.<br />
517
Rientra <strong>in</strong> scena il Narr<strong>at</strong>ore. È uno studente, un ragazzo che si alza dal banco e presenta<br />
la storia.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Dopo un lungo periodo di assenza, T<strong>in</strong>a torna <strong>in</strong> classe e decide di<br />
partecipare a una delle lezioni.<br />
Dopo che il Narr<strong>at</strong>ore è torn<strong>at</strong>o al suo posto, l’azione riprende. Durante le sue b<strong>at</strong>tute,<br />
il gruppo costituito dall’<strong>in</strong>segnante e dagli allievi è rimasto immobile come <strong>in</strong> una<br />
foto.<br />
Insegnante [entrando <strong>in</strong> classe]: Salve a tutti! Come st<strong>at</strong>e oggi? È una splendida<br />
giorn<strong>at</strong>a. Aspett<strong>at</strong>e con ansia la lezione di Logica, vero?<br />
Studente [sussurrando all’orecchio di un altro]: Che stai facendo?<br />
Insegnante [si ch<strong>in</strong>a un poco verso lo studente]: Mi chiede che sto facendo! [sorride].<br />
Ah ah ah. Che car<strong>in</strong>o!<br />
Studente [lentamente]: Scusi…<br />
Insegnante [mettendosi di fronte alla classe]: Oggi facciamo un po’ di esercizi. D<strong>at</strong>o<br />
che c’è una lezione nuova, ci sono anche nuovi esercizi… [lo studente sbadiglia.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante se ne accorge]. Che succede? Non ti piacciono gli esercizi?<br />
Studente: No!<br />
Insegnante: Perché no? Ti annoi, con le vacanze che si avvic<strong>in</strong>ano? Coraggio, ti<br />
tocca pazientare ancora un po’. Vediamo un po’… Chi viene alla lavagna?<br />
Diamo un’occhi<strong>at</strong>a al registro… chi è ancora senza voto?<br />
Studente 1: Io! Voglio un voto!<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante guarda sorridendo lo studente. Poi va alla c<strong>at</strong>tedra, si siede e prende il<br />
registro.<br />
Insegnante [dalla c<strong>at</strong>tedra, girando le pag<strong>in</strong>e del registro]: E come mai non hai il<br />
voto? Fammi vedere… Ah, sì! Eri assente, ma c’è anche un’altra persona che<br />
non ha il voto. [si volta verso T<strong>in</strong>a] Sì… la signor<strong>in</strong>a Crist<strong>in</strong>a Mihăilescu. Vediamo<br />
cosa sa fare. [la classe si agita, ridendo]. Ionescu, se ti annoi, per me puoi<br />
anche venire qui ad aiutare Crist<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Non mi serve! [ironica] Allora… che devo scrivere?<br />
Insegnante: Ecco l’esercizio. [scrive qualcosa alla lavagna] Va bene. Ecco qua.<br />
Lasci<strong>at</strong>e lavorare la vostra compagna.<br />
Studente 2 [ironico]: Ma guarda! Lo sa fare!<br />
Studente 3 [ironico]: Già…<br />
Studente 2 [ironico, ridacchia]: È pers<strong>in</strong>o venuta a scuola…<br />
518
T<strong>in</strong>a [si volta nervosa]: Con chi credete di parlare? Sono vostra sorella, per caso?<br />
[smette di scrivere].<br />
Insegnante: Per favore, lasci<strong>at</strong>ela lavorare… Sì, bene! Hai f<strong>at</strong>to il compito?<br />
Studente 1: Non li fa mai i compiti! Non viene nemmeno mai a scuola!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Sta’ zitto.<br />
Insegnante: E tu che ne sai?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [ironica]: Forse non ci va nemmeno lui a scuola.<br />
Studente: Guarda come viene vestita! Che razza di pantaloni…<br />
Insegnante: Puoi ammirare i suoi pantaloni, o le sue scarpe o quello che vuoi,<br />
durante l’<strong>in</strong>tervallo. Zitti adesso! T<strong>in</strong>a, sei st<strong>at</strong>a bravissima! Dovresti venire<br />
ancora a lezione di Logica. Hai f<strong>at</strong>to molte assenze. Come mai sei manc<strong>at</strong>a così<br />
tanto?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a guarda altrove, chiaramente annoi<strong>at</strong>a dalla conversazione.<br />
Studente: Beh, è sempre impegn<strong>at</strong>a a correre dietro ai ragazzi…<br />
Insegnante [rivolto allo studente]: Beh, io ti ho visto giocare a biliardo, perciò sta’<br />
<strong>at</strong>tento a come parli!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Posso andare a posto?<br />
Insegnante: Sì, va pure. Te l’ho detto. Sei and<strong>at</strong>a bene. Dovresti tornare a lezione…<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [si f<strong>in</strong>ge assorta nella lettura di un foglio]: Sì, forse…<br />
Insegnante: Va bene. È tutto. F<strong>at</strong>e buone vacanze! St<strong>at</strong>e bene e… ci vediamo<br />
l’anno prossimo! Arrivederci!<br />
Classe: Arrivederci!<br />
(Il dialogo fra l’<strong>in</strong>segnante e gli allievi deve avere un tono comico. Gli <strong>in</strong>terventi degli<br />
studenti sono di car<strong>at</strong>tere umoristico, ironico. L’<strong>in</strong>tera scena è comica. La voce dell’<strong>in</strong>segnante,<br />
benché autorevole, è calda e piacevole. Gli studenti si divertono a punzecchiare<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a, che ha un’aria lievemente divertita e distr<strong>at</strong>ta).<br />
Una delle ragazze, Lizi, fissa T<strong>in</strong>a con <strong>in</strong>sistenza. Quest’ultima si alza e va da lei <strong>in</strong>fastidita.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Perché mi guardi <strong>in</strong> quel modo? Rispondi!<br />
Lizi [con <strong>in</strong>differenza]: Perché, non posso guardare? Chi credi di essere?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Stammi bene a sentire. Non puoi parlarmi così. F<strong>at</strong>ti gli affari tuoi e smettila<br />
di fissarmi.<br />
Lizi: Chi diavolo sei tu per dirmi quello che devo fare?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Chi sono io? Chi sono io? [la str<strong>at</strong>tona].<br />
519
Lizi: Levami le mani di dosso!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Ma guard<strong>at</strong>i! Non vali niente!<br />
La fa cadere sulla sedia con uno sp<strong>in</strong>tone. L’altra reagisce. Iniziano a picchiarsi. Dopo<br />
qualche secondo, gli altri <strong>in</strong>tervengono per separarle. Le due si guardano <strong>in</strong> cagnesco,<br />
mentre i compagni le tr<strong>at</strong>tengono a f<strong>at</strong>ica. Lizi si libera dalle compagne che la<br />
tr<strong>at</strong>tengono e corre fuori dall’aula. Riappare poco dopo seguita dalla preside. La classe<br />
è ancora <strong>in</strong> subbuglio, gli studenti discutono agit<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
Preside: Adesso basta! Smettetela di chiacchierare! Forza: A destra! [rivolta agli<br />
studenti]… a s<strong>in</strong>istra! [rivolta a T<strong>in</strong>a] Che succede qui?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Niente.<br />
Preside: Come sarebbe «niente»? Vieni qua [rivolta a T<strong>in</strong>a]. Dimmi che sta succedendo.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Non sta succedendo niente. Le sembra che qualcuno si sia f<strong>at</strong>to male?<br />
Preside [rivolta a un’altra allieva]: Signor<strong>in</strong>a, metti via quel libro… Ah, filosofia!<br />
Mmh… [brusio <strong>in</strong> classe]. Basta adesso! Silenzio! Avanti, Ionescu, dimmi che<br />
cosa è successo qui.<br />
Ionescu: Non lo so… Io non ho visto niente…<br />
Preside: Che cosa? Si sono picchi<strong>at</strong>e, si sono prese per i capelli! Dove credete di<br />
essere, al merc<strong>at</strong>o? Questa è una scuola civile, siete pregare di mantenere ord<strong>in</strong>e<br />
e discipl<strong>in</strong>a! Non vi vergogn<strong>at</strong>e? Parlerò con tuo padre [rivolta a T<strong>in</strong>a] e<br />
con tua madre [rivolta a Lizi].<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [rivolta a Lizi, ironica]: Hai sentito, non ti vergogni?<br />
Lizi: Io? E tu allora?<br />
Preside: Silenzio, per favore! Signor<strong>in</strong>a Ionescu, metti via il libro!<br />
Lizi: Non le dirà mai niente! [guarda T<strong>in</strong>a] Hanno paura di lei!<br />
Preside: Perché?<br />
Lizi: Li picchia appena voltano l’angolo della scuola!<br />
Preside: Signor<strong>in</strong>a Mihăilescu, che sta succedendo?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Andiamo, signora! Non c’è st<strong>at</strong>o niente, nessuna lite! Lo sa come siamo…<br />
Preside: Ascolt<strong>at</strong>e tutti, io qui sono la preside, la professoressa Mândrut¸escu, nel<br />
caso qualcuno se ne sia scord<strong>at</strong>o. Signor<strong>in</strong>a! Mi chiamo «professoressa Mândrut¸escu»!<br />
Non chiamarmi «signora»!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [ironica]: …professoressa Mândrut¸escu.<br />
Preside: Informerò i tuoi genitori di quanto sta succedendo.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Se crede che gliene importi qualcosa…<br />
Preside: A chi non importa?<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [cambia repent<strong>in</strong>amente espressione e va via]: Devo andare!<br />
520
Preside: D’accordo… va’. [rivolta a Lizi] Tu non ti muovere! Vado a chiamare<br />
i tuoi!<br />
Lizi: Come? È colpa mia? È st<strong>at</strong>a lei a…<br />
Preside: Basta così. Ho f<strong>in</strong>ito.<br />
La scena si chiude: gli studenti guardano <strong>in</strong> basso, immobili, <strong>in</strong>differenti.<br />
(La preside parla <strong>in</strong> tono deciso, autoritario e al tempo stesso disgust<strong>at</strong>o. La voce è ferma<br />
e rude).<br />
SCENA V<br />
Il consiglio dei docenti<br />
L’azione si svolge nella sala professori della scuola. Su richiesta della preside,<br />
alcuni <strong>in</strong>segnanti com<strong>in</strong>ciano a discutere della situazione di T<strong>in</strong>a. La preside<br />
vuole che sia presa una decisione <strong>in</strong> proposito.<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Sul l<strong>at</strong>o destro ci sono c<strong>in</strong>que o sei sedie disposte <strong>in</strong> semicerchio, dove siedono<br />
gli <strong>in</strong>segnanti. Sul l<strong>at</strong>o s<strong>in</strong>istro, c’è un banco con una sedia. In fondo a s<strong>in</strong>istra,<br />
una porta.<br />
Costumi<br />
Preside: completo rosa e arancione, tacchi alti, molti gioielli.<br />
Insegnanti: il professore di Logica ha gli stessi abiti della scena precedente; gli<br />
altri vestono <strong>in</strong> modo <strong>in</strong>formale: uom<strong>in</strong>i <strong>in</strong> jeans e camicia, donne <strong>in</strong> camicetta e<br />
gonna, o pantaloni.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante <strong>in</strong> ritardo, la professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly, <strong>in</strong>dossa m<strong>in</strong>igonna e camicetta,<br />
scarpe basse, tutto <strong>in</strong> t<strong>in</strong>te chiare.<br />
Indicazioni di scena<br />
La preside si colloca sulla s<strong>in</strong>istra. Durante il suo discorso, camm<strong>in</strong>a nervosa<br />
davanti agli <strong>in</strong>segnanti. Si ferma di tanto <strong>in</strong> tanto per obiettare a quanto dicono.<br />
Tiene sempre una penna <strong>in</strong> mano. La professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly entra dalla porta a s<strong>in</strong>istra<br />
e prende posto su una sedia vuota. L’<strong>in</strong>tera scena è debolmente illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>a,<br />
a sottol<strong>in</strong>eare la poca chiarezza della situazione rappresent<strong>at</strong>a. Deve esserci un’<strong>at</strong>mosfera<br />
tesa. La preside rimane qualche secondo nell’ombra per aumentare la suspense<br />
e dare un <strong>in</strong>dizio al pubblico su quanto sta per accadere.<br />
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Rientra il Narr<strong>at</strong>ore. In scena c’è già l’<strong>in</strong>tero consiglio riunito con la preside per decidere<br />
le sorti di T<strong>in</strong>a. Prima del dialogo, il Narr<strong>at</strong>ore presenta la situazione. La luce<br />
sul consiglio è debole, l’<strong>at</strong>mosfera tetra. Quando T<strong>in</strong>a entra <strong>in</strong> scena, alla f<strong>in</strong>e, per<br />
pronunciare il suo monologo, il consiglio è al buio e la luce si concentra su lei sola.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: T<strong>in</strong>a, triste e agit<strong>at</strong>a, <strong>at</strong>tende fuori dalla porta. Ma quale sarà la decisione?<br />
Che ne sarà di T<strong>in</strong>a? Quale sarà, <strong>in</strong>f<strong>in</strong>e, il suo dest<strong>in</strong>o?<br />
Inizia il vero e proprio dialogo fra la preside e gli <strong>in</strong>segnanti. La prima è severa e parla<br />
<strong>in</strong> tono autoritario. Gli <strong>in</strong>segnanti la osservano, di tanto <strong>in</strong> tanto appaiono imbarazz<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
La donna sembra avere il pieno controllo di tutti.<br />
Preside: Buonasera, professori!<br />
Insegnanti [uno alla volta]: Buonasera, preside!<br />
Preside: Voglio discutere di un f<strong>at</strong>to avvenuto oggi di cui francamente mi vergogno.<br />
[<strong>in</strong> tono risentito] E voglio trovare una soluzione col vostro aiuto. Oggi,<br />
alle qu<strong>at</strong>tro, ho assistito a una rissa <strong>in</strong>decorosa [enf<strong>at</strong>izza le ultime <strong>parole</strong>]. Non<br />
avevo mai visto una cosa simile <strong>in</strong> vita mia! Ho avuto paura. Sono una madre<br />
di famiglia. In una scuola civile come questa non si può assistere a scene del genere.<br />
Siete d’accordo? [gli <strong>in</strong>segnanti parlottano fra sé, poi guardano la preside].<br />
Sì? Dunque… Per favore! Adesso votiamo e vediamo come possiamo risolvere<br />
la situazione di questa giovane allieva [respira, poi riprende, sottol<strong>in</strong>eando ogni<br />
parola]. Risse, assenze, negligenza… Prego! [<strong>in</strong>dica il professore di Logica].<br />
Dica pure, professore!<br />
Professore di Logica: Quella ragazza, sa… È vero anche che oggi, durante la mia<br />
lezione…<br />
Preside [<strong>in</strong>terrompendolo]: Non credo sia un comportamento adegu<strong>at</strong>o da tenere<br />
a scuola! Simili scene violente e volgari… non possono accadere qui! In questo<br />
istituto!<br />
Professore di Logica: Certo, signora. È chiaro. Ma l’ho messa <strong>in</strong> guardia… Potremmo<br />
darle un brutto voto <strong>in</strong> condotta 2 …<br />
Preside [lo <strong>in</strong>terrompe di nuovo]: Bene allora. Desumo che la sua è una posizione<br />
ambigua. Così come nella vita [uno sguardo furioso]. Bene! [passa <strong>in</strong> rassegna<br />
con lo sguardo gli <strong>in</strong>segnanti] Prego, dica!<br />
Insegnante [balbettando]: Io… io mi astengo.<br />
Preside: Giusto. Meglio astenersi che prendere la decisione sbagli<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Un altro <strong>in</strong>segnante: Credo che dovremmo parlare coi genitori… Per capire il<br />
perché delle assenze… Oltre a metterle un voto più basso <strong>in</strong> condotta…<br />
Preside [<strong>in</strong>terrompendolo]: Si vota! Mi pare che siamo tutti d’accordo, no?<br />
522
Un altro <strong>in</strong>segnante: Sì… propongo di espellerla.<br />
Preside: Eccellente! La segnalerò per un aumento di stipendio.<br />
Gli <strong>in</strong>segnanti si mettono a bisbigliare tra loro tutti <strong>in</strong>sieme.<br />
Preside: Comportamenti del genere… [li richiama] Professori, per favore! Va<br />
bene, va bene. Prendo nota del… [si <strong>in</strong>terrompe di colpo].<br />
Intanto un’<strong>in</strong>segnante <strong>in</strong> ritardo entra <strong>in</strong> sala. La preside la vede e si rivolge a lei.<br />
Preside: Ma guarda! Professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly… È bello che sia venuta!<br />
Professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly: Scusi, ho f<strong>at</strong>to tardi. Di che si tr<strong>at</strong>ta?<br />
Preside: Di una riunione del consiglio, professoressa… Stiamo valutando un caso.<br />
Quello della signor<strong>in</strong>a Mihăilescu.<br />
Professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly: Ah, la conosco, sì… Mihăilescu… della decima D, mi pare.<br />
Preside: È di lei che parliamo. Dobbiamo espellerla. Mi è giunta voce di una rissa<br />
furibonda… La ragazza è salt<strong>at</strong>a addosso a un’altra allieva come una belva,<br />
cari colleghi. Come possiamo tollerare un f<strong>at</strong>to simile? In una scuola rispettabile?<br />
Per favore!<br />
Professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly: Signora preside, avrei bisogno di qualche altro dettaglio.<br />
Preside: L’ha schiaffeggi<strong>at</strong>a, le ha tir<strong>at</strong>o i capelli… Che importanza ha?<br />
Professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly: Prendiamo un provvedimento nei confronti di entrambe<br />
se non vogliamo la violenza a scuola.<br />
Preside: Ma… l’altra ragazza è st<strong>at</strong>a colta alla sprovvista da quest’<strong>at</strong>to di violenza.<br />
[rivolgendosi furiosa agli altri docenti] Siamo d’accordo, sì?<br />
Professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly: Non possiamo espellerla senza prima parlare coi genitori.<br />
Dobbiamo valutare meglio la situazione.<br />
Preside: Professoressa, la conosco da tanto tempo e speravo <strong>in</strong> un maggior supporto<br />
da parte sua <strong>in</strong> un caso come questo.<br />
Professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly: Non posso esprimere un parere su T<strong>in</strong>a senza conoscere<br />
la sua situazione a scuola e a casa.<br />
Preside [arrabbi<strong>at</strong>a]: Insomma! Basta così! Il discorso è chiuso. Professoressa, lei<br />
dovrebbe mostrare maggior rispetto per il ruolo che ricopre. Crist<strong>in</strong>a Mihăilescu<br />
deve essere espulsa. Non vogliamo violenti nella nostra scuola!<br />
Professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly: Suppongo che non abbia f<strong>at</strong>to a botte da sola…<br />
Preside: Beh, allora, ai voti. Mi pare che siamo tutti d’accordo. Eccellente!<br />
Professore di Logica: Preside, vorrei dire una cosa. La ragazza ha delle doti…<br />
me ne sono accorto alla mia lezione. Non è così c<strong>at</strong>tiva…<br />
Preside: Che vuole dire? Cosa? Che è brava o cos’altro?<br />
523
Professore di Logica: Faremmo meglio a punirla dandole un brutto voto <strong>in</strong><br />
condotta. Diamole una seconda possibilità. Mettiamola sulla giusta strada.<br />
Guardiamo il problema da vic<strong>in</strong>o!<br />
Alcuni dei docenti <strong>in</strong> sala bisbigliano tra loro approvando all’unisono la proposta del<br />
professore di Logica. Contemporaneamente, la preside si rivolge a un altro gruppo di<br />
docenti. Il professore sembra parlare a se stesso.<br />
Preside [rivolgendosi al professore di Logica]: Molto bene, caro signore. Voglio anch’io<br />
guardare il problema da vic<strong>in</strong>o. Tutti sono favorevoli all’espulsione. E<br />
lei… non la capisco.<br />
Professoressa Th<strong>in</strong>ly: Parliamo coi genitori…<br />
Preside [si mette le mani sui capelli]: Ho un mal di testa terrificante… ho le vertig<strong>in</strong>i…<br />
sto per avere un <strong>at</strong>tacco di cuore.<br />
Intanto gli altri professori discutono per conto proprio.<br />
Preside [rivolta a tutti]: Allora, siamo d’accordo? Sì? [<strong>in</strong>terrompe alcuni di loro] Il<br />
problema è risolto. La discussione è f<strong>in</strong>ita. Basta, questa ragazz<strong>in</strong>a distrugge la<br />
reputazione della scuola. La espello immedi<strong>at</strong>amente. [grida] F<strong>at</strong>e entrare<br />
Mihăilescu!<br />
Esce dalla sala. I professori restano <strong>in</strong> scena, muti e immobili.<br />
Preside: Signor<strong>in</strong>a! Dopo una giusta e corretta [enf<strong>at</strong>izza queste <strong>parole</strong>] discussione<br />
del Consiglio… la decisione unanime [tossicchia e si <strong>in</strong>terrompe], presa<br />
mediante voto, non è una scelta mia…<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a [la <strong>in</strong>terrompe]: Me lo immag<strong>in</strong>o!<br />
Preside: Porta rispetto! Sei espulsa. Addio!<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Va bene.<br />
Le luci si spengono poco a poco.<br />
(La scena ha car<strong>at</strong>tere comico).<br />
524<br />
SCENA VI<br />
Il monologo<br />
L’azione si svolge a scuola. T<strong>in</strong>a è sola <strong>in</strong> classe. Guarda fisso di fronte a sé.
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Un tavolo e delle sedie sparse.<br />
Costumi<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: jeans, maglietta, scarpe sportive di tela, capelli raccolti disord<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>amente.<br />
La scena è <strong>in</strong> penombra. In sottofondo c’è una canzone, De ce di Vama Veche, che<br />
dura f<strong>in</strong>o alla f<strong>in</strong>e della scena. Un cono di luce illum<strong>in</strong>a T<strong>in</strong>a. Alla f<strong>in</strong>e, solo lei è illum<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>a;<br />
il resto della scena è al buio. Camm<strong>in</strong>a a piccoli passi sul palco, col cellulare<br />
<strong>in</strong> mano, dietro la schiena. Lo guarda, poi lo nasconde di nuovo. Si strof<strong>in</strong>a le<br />
mani nervosa. Si blocca di colpo. Il cellulare cade. È rigida, la posa esprime resa. Le<br />
mani sono libere, le braccia distese lungo i fianchi. Prende fi<strong>at</strong>o e <strong>in</strong>izia a parlare lentamente,<br />
con la musica a basso volume. Inizia il monologo.<br />
T<strong>in</strong>a: Mmh… Mi hanno espulsa. Non chiedetemi se è giusto o sbagli<strong>at</strong>o, se me<br />
lo merito oppure no. Non conta chi ha ragione… Conta l’occasione che ho<br />
perso e che non so se e quando mi ricapiterà. Per ora, comunque, ho perso tutto;<br />
famiglia, amici, pers<strong>in</strong>o me stessa… Credevo che se mi fossi ribell<strong>at</strong>a, qualcuno<br />
mi avrebbe ascolt<strong>at</strong>a, che avrebbero visto la mia disperazione, ascolt<strong>at</strong>o<br />
le mie suppliche per avere un’altra possibilità di partire col piede giusto. [le luci<br />
si spengono gradualmente] Ho condann<strong>at</strong>o tutti gli altri per non avermi aiut<strong>at</strong>a…<br />
Ma non è vero: è me stessa che ho condann<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Concluso il monologo, T<strong>in</strong>a resta al buio. La canzone cont<strong>in</strong>ua f<strong>in</strong>o alla f<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Note<br />
1. ‘Strade’.<br />
2. Il voto <strong>in</strong> condotta viene assegn<strong>at</strong>o semestralmente; di solito è un dieci, ma nei casi<br />
di violazione del regolamento scolastico può essere abbass<strong>at</strong>o .<br />
525
Personaggi<br />
Graffiti sketch<br />
COORDINATORE<br />
Cor<strong>in</strong>a Popescu – <strong>in</strong>segnante, Garofit¸a Iancu – <strong>in</strong>segnante,<br />
Collegio Nazionale «Octav Onicescu», Bucarest.<br />
COAUTORI<br />
studenti della nona classe,<br />
Collegio Nazionale «Octav Onicescu», Bucarest<br />
Atto unico<br />
Gelu Goldis¸, studente del nono anno <strong>in</strong> una scuola di Bucarest<br />
La nonna di Gelu, suo padre, l’<strong>in</strong>segnante, personaggi fuori scena.<br />
SCENA I<br />
Gelu e la nonna<br />
La modesta casa della nonna, un semplice tavolo di cuc<strong>in</strong>a, delle sedie, una pianta<br />
verde <strong>in</strong> vaso, una f<strong>in</strong>estra sullo sfondo. Gelu <strong>in</strong>dossa pantaloni larghi, una maglietta<br />
sgualcita, bracciale con borchie e i capelli che gli ricadono sulla fronte, tutto nero<br />
eccetto la maglietta, che è di colori sgargianti con un teschio disegn<strong>at</strong>o sul davanti.<br />
Entra con aria annoi<strong>at</strong>a, le mani <strong>in</strong> tasca, il chew<strong>in</strong>g gum <strong>in</strong> bocca e si lascia cadere<br />
su una sedia allungando voluttuosamente le gambe.<br />
Gelu: ’Giorno. È pronto il caffè? Devo vedere i ragazzi alle undici… [fa una pausa,<br />
si stiracchia, sbadiglia rumorosamente] Ieri sera ho f<strong>at</strong>to un po’ tardi con gli amici,<br />
non ti sarai preoccup<strong>at</strong>a troppo a non potermi spiare, vero? Che succede<br />
di nuovo? Ti hanno chiam<strong>at</strong>o i vecchi dalla Spagna? Sono ancora vivi? Mi hanno<br />
mand<strong>at</strong>o qualcosa, che sono già al verde? Mi servono i soldi per la merenda<br />
526
durante l’<strong>in</strong>tervallo. [una ris<strong>at</strong>a falsa, sarcastica] Potresti mettermi un po’ di salame<br />
fra due fette di pane come facevi con papà cent’anni fa… Ma i tempi sono<br />
cambi<strong>at</strong>i, lo vuoi capire? Anche noi abbiamo bisogni diversi! Artistici! Ma tanto<br />
non capisci! [<strong>in</strong> tono distante, sprezzante e ironico] Che generazione di sempliciotti!<br />
Mi servono colori e vernici spray, quante volte te lo devo dire? [esasper<strong>at</strong>o]<br />
A che mi servono? I graffiti sono una forma d’arte! [grida, con malignità] Di<br />
arte, sì! E non le cazz<strong>at</strong>e che facciamo a scuola. Costano cari, dici? [<strong>in</strong>fastidito] E<br />
allora tu che ci stai a fare? Per darmi i soldi, perché ho già punt<strong>at</strong>o un vagone<br />
della metropolitana da decorare, un’ampia superficie per grandi rif<strong>in</strong>iture, motivi…<br />
[disegna nell’aria con fare sognante e movimenti ampi]. Fai una colletta!<br />
Stasera vado a «risolvere il problema»! [spalanca gli occhi, f<strong>in</strong>gendosi sbalordito]<br />
Scuola?! Che roba è? Io ho già la scuola della vita; l’altra mi annoia a morte: orari<br />
fissi, gente fuori di testa, vermi ritard<strong>at</strong>i… [ride stupidamente alla sua stessa<br />
b<strong>at</strong>tuta]. Non rompere! Ci vado ogni tanto, così, perché non si dimentich<strong>in</strong>o di<br />
me. Tanto mi riacchiappano comunque, i primi dieci anni pare siano obblig<strong>at</strong>ori.<br />
[sorseggia rumorosamente dalla tazza] Che farò il prossimo anno? Ci penserò<br />
il prossimo anno, cosa sono, un veggente? Lasciamo passare quest’apocalisse,<br />
poi ne parliamo. [il telefono squilla, una breve pausa, ascolta la conversazione,<br />
a un certo punto gesticola: «No! No!», poi bisbiglia] Sono i miei? Digli che sono<br />
a scuola! A scuola, hai capito? Non farmi questo, ti prego! Mi taglieranno i<br />
fondi. Farò il bravo. Lo prometto, andrò a scuola, anche. Non ri<strong>at</strong>taccare, ti<br />
prego! [cade gemendo sulla sedia, poi, di sc<strong>at</strong>to, si avvic<strong>in</strong>a alla f<strong>in</strong>estra, sistema una<br />
sedia e si arrampica sul davanzale]. Se non li richiami per dirgli che è tutto a<br />
posto, vado <strong>in</strong> Spagna… volando! [mette un piede sul cornicione esterno].<br />
SCENA II<br />
Gelu e suo padre<br />
La scena è la stessa. Suona il campanello. Gelu va e apre la porta senza guardare dallo<br />
spionc<strong>in</strong>o. Completa sorpresa, confusione, bugie e giustificazioni. Da baldanzoso<br />
che era, Gelu passa a un <strong>at</strong>teggiamento debole e difensivo.<br />
Gelu [gesticolando troppo, con cortesia falsa e nervosa]: Papà, che sorpresa! Che bello<br />
che sei venuto! Mamma è rimasta laggiù? Quando torni? Io? Tutto bene!<br />
Chiedi anche alla nonna… [si agita pensando agli abiti sci<strong>at</strong>ti che <strong>in</strong>dossa] Ah<br />
no, assolutamente! Questi li porto giusto per stare <strong>in</strong> casa, sono comodi, sai…<br />
Certo, per andare a scuola ne ho degli altri [si toglie <strong>in</strong> fretta e furia l’orecch<strong>in</strong>o,<br />
il braccialetto con le borchie e <strong>in</strong>fila tutto nelle grosse tasche dei pantaloni]. Co-<br />
527
sa? Se sono <strong>in</strong> ritardo? Non preoccuparti, oggi saltiamo le prime due lezioni,<br />
l’<strong>in</strong>segnante è mal<strong>at</strong>o da quasi una settimana, poveretto! Certo che seguo le altre<br />
lezioni. Ma secondo il mio orologio è ancora presto. [guarda l’orologio,<br />
scuote la mano, se la porta all’orecchio] È regol<strong>at</strong>o sull’ora di Barcellona. L’ho<br />
regol<strong>at</strong>o così pensando a voi! [fa un sorriso falso, lanciando occhi<strong>at</strong>e alla nonna].<br />
Che dici, mi vesto, così mi accompagni a scuola <strong>in</strong> macch<strong>in</strong>a? Non sei stanco<br />
dopo tante ore di viaggio? Papà, e se rimandassimo a domani? Oggi farò<br />
un’eccezione alla regola, così mi racconterai qualcosa di laggiù, passiamo un<br />
po’ di tempo assieme… No? [confuso, comb<strong>at</strong>tuto] Ma certo, hai ragione! Domani<br />
è un altro giorno! Va bene, prendo lo za<strong>in</strong>o. Nonna, dove avrò messo lo<br />
za<strong>in</strong>o? [fa dei cenni disper<strong>at</strong>i che significano: non ce l’ho lo za<strong>in</strong>o, coprimi!] Deve<br />
essere qui da qualche parte! [trova un vecchio za<strong>in</strong>etto, ci <strong>in</strong>fila dentro quello<br />
che trova <strong>in</strong> dispensa] Gli abiti per la scuola? [si <strong>in</strong>fila <strong>in</strong> fretta e furia una maglietta,<br />
poi appallottola quella con il teschio e la <strong>in</strong>fila nello za<strong>in</strong>o sopra il resto della<br />
roba] Pronto per la scuola! [raggiunge il padre alla porta sulla s<strong>in</strong>istra, si volta<br />
e afferra un avanzo di pan<strong>in</strong>o dal tavolo e parla senza farsi sentire dal padre]. E<br />
sia! Per oggi farò un sacrificio! [rivolto alla nonna] Tutto a posto, non preoccuparti,<br />
ho tutto sotto controllo, come sempre, dovresti saperlo!<br />
Esce di scena.<br />
SCENA III<br />
Gelu e l’<strong>in</strong>segnante<br />
Cambio di scena. A scuola. La campanella suona segnalando l’<strong>in</strong>izio delle lezioni.<br />
Rumore. I compagni di Gelu entrano <strong>in</strong> classe dopo l’<strong>in</strong>tervallo; uno di loro mangia<br />
un croissant, un altro beve da una bottiglia di acqua m<strong>in</strong>erale. C’è agitazione.<br />
Gelu [ad alcuni compagni, riconoscendoli]: Ciao, amico! Come stai, fr<strong>at</strong>ello? La<br />
prof ha chiesto di me? Mi ha d<strong>at</strong>o per disperso, vero? [vede l’<strong>in</strong>segnante entrare<br />
<strong>in</strong> classe] Oh, guarda un po’ chi arriva! [con falsa <strong>def</strong>erenza] Buongiorno,<br />
professoressa! Sì, mi dispiace, non sono venuto a lezione… Sa, ho avuto qualche<br />
problema <strong>in</strong> famiglia, mia nonna è morta e ho dovuto occuparmi della<br />
mia sorell<strong>in</strong>a perché i miei sono <strong>in</strong> Spagna… Certo che ce l’ho una sorella…<br />
Mmh, <strong>in</strong> effetti ne ho due [tiene le dita <strong>in</strong>croci<strong>at</strong>e dietro la schiena, visibili al<br />
pubblico]. Papà gliene ha parl<strong>at</strong>o alla prima riunione coi genitori, ma forse se<br />
ne è dimentic<strong>at</strong>a… [sorpreso, si accorge che il padre sta salendo le scale] Papà,<br />
posso farcela. Non devi venire anche tu, va tutto bene.<br />
528
Segue una pausa, durante la quale l’<strong>in</strong>segnante parla col padre e Gelu fissa il pavimento,<br />
giochicchia con la penna, la fa sc<strong>at</strong>tare ossessivamente, ruota nervoso il cappuccio<br />
con la mano.<br />
Gelu: Papà, perdonami. Ho detto quella cosa sulla nonna perché ho avuto dei<br />
problemi di salute e non sono potuto venire a scuola per un po’. Non te l’ho<br />
detto perché non volevo farti preoccupare, d<strong>at</strong>o che abiti lontano. Da oggi <strong>in</strong><br />
poi ci verrò tutti i giorni. Lo prometto! Ogni volta che ci vengo, prendo un<br />
buon voto alle <strong>in</strong>terrogazioni; sebbene coi compiti… <strong>in</strong>somma, me la cavo<br />
meglio col disegno. Lo so che è un pecc<strong>at</strong>o, hai ragione, tu lavori come un pazzo<br />
<strong>in</strong> un paese straniero per me e io… ho delle buone doti e le spreco così…<br />
Ma d’ora io poi sarò all’altezza delle tue aspett<strong>at</strong>ive! Vedrai! A com<strong>in</strong>ciare da<br />
oggi! Come meriti, e come merito anch’io.<br />
SCENA IV<br />
Gelu e Beaver, un amico<br />
Per tutta la scena, che si svolge nell’aula scolastica, Gelu parla al cellulare con il suo amico<br />
Beaver.<br />
Gelu: È f<strong>in</strong>ita Beaver! Ho chiuso, papà è arriv<strong>at</strong>o e ha scoperto tutto… [pausa]. Sì,<br />
<strong>in</strong>f<strong>at</strong>ti! D’ora <strong>in</strong> poi sarete tu e i ragazzi. Potremo vederci solo nei f<strong>in</strong>esettimana.<br />
Ehi, non ci crederai, ma mi sono f<strong>at</strong>to notare f<strong>in</strong> dal mio primo giorno: ho<br />
preso un voto alto <strong>in</strong> Romeno facendo un disegno! [pausa] Aspetta, non ridere!<br />
Era una possibile illustrazione per un romanzo romeno. Proprio così! Ho trov<strong>at</strong>o<br />
la mia strada. Farò l’illustr<strong>at</strong>ore! Buon per me, dici? Prima dovresti leggere<br />
il libro, perciò com<strong>in</strong>cerò facendo un po’ di ricerca. Così prendo due piccioni<br />
con una fava, no? Mi rilasso, faccio quello che mi piace e vado anche bene a<br />
scuola! Beh, che ne dici, ne vale la pena? Com<strong>in</strong>cia davvero a piacermi. E, tanto<br />
per completare il quadro, mi hanno già <strong>in</strong>caric<strong>at</strong>o di fare le scene per la recita<br />
di N<strong>at</strong>ale! Che stai dicendo? [si sentono delle proteste dal telefono] Se ci vediamo<br />
domani? No, amico, non posso. Devo fare tutte queste cose. Nemmeno<br />
giovedì, perché com<strong>in</strong>ciamo un nuovo argomento e io sono l’illustr<strong>at</strong>ore della<br />
classe, te lo ricordi? Non so, forse sab<strong>at</strong>o. No, amico, non mi è successo niente,<br />
non sono divent<strong>at</strong>o m<strong>at</strong>to; ho solo del lavoro da fare. E la settimana prossima…<br />
[controlla il suo diario nuovo] Nemmeno! Iniziano gli esami! Forse durante<br />
le vacanze… [preoccup<strong>at</strong>o] Beaver, pronto, ci sei ancora? Pronto? Pronto?<br />
[butta il telefono da una parte] Che liberazione! Non puoi capire, «sei uno stupi-<br />
529
530<br />
do» come dice quel personaggio… qual è? Aspetta, lo sapevo… [si mette a sfogliare<br />
il libro con impazienza] Ho un vuoto di memoria. Ma mi verrà <strong>in</strong> mente.<br />
Forse c’è ancora qualcuno <strong>in</strong> biblioteca a scuola… Oppure posso guardare<br />
su Internet… Comunque devo prepararmi per la m<strong>at</strong>eria di domani! [guarda<br />
nello za<strong>in</strong>o] Qui dentro non c’è niente… Coraggio, da domani sarò di nuovo<br />
tra i vivi! [si rivolge ai compagni, al mondo <strong>in</strong>tero] Prepar<strong>at</strong>evi, gente, sto arrivando!<br />
[trova la maglietta nera col teschio e si rivolge a un compagno di scuola seduto<br />
dietro di lui] Vlad, vuoi una maglietta da aggiungere alla tua collezione di orrori?<br />
[ride amaramente] No, a me non serve più. Prendila e dimmi quali sono i<br />
compiti di Romeno che dobbiamo fare per domani.
Abbandono scolastico.<br />
Storia di una dodicenne e della sua famiglia<br />
COORDINATORE<br />
N<strong>at</strong>alia Oproiu<br />
ASSISTENTE<br />
Elena D<strong>in</strong>u<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Hîrtopanu Florent<strong>in</strong>a, Drăgul<strong>in</strong>escu Andreea Mihaela, Munteanu Răzvan Andrei,<br />
Dobre Geo Valent<strong>in</strong>, Dobre Marius Florian, Genunche Bianca Mihaela,<br />
Popa Lucia Ana-Maria, Ungureanu Crist<strong>in</strong>a<br />
Personaggi<br />
Madre, la signora Voicu: trentac<strong>in</strong>que anni, una forte personalità, prodiga di<br />
critiche e di consigli.<br />
Padre, il signor Voicu: quarant’anni, premuroso, severo, burbero, criticone.<br />
Raluca Voicu, la figlia dodicenne: bella, capelli castani, occhi verdi, un po’ suscettibile,<br />
<strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Ana Voicu, la figlia m<strong>in</strong>ore: dieci anni, capelli castani, occhi verdi, criticona.<br />
Roxana, l’amica di Raluca: dodici anni, dura ma anche saggia, divertente.<br />
Dragos¸, il ragazzo di Raluca: diciassette anni, imm<strong>at</strong>uro ma responsabile, <strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Mihaela, l’amica di Ana: dieci anni, prodiga di consigli e di critiche.<br />
Preside: quarantac<strong>in</strong>que anni, forte personalità, obiettiva, prodiga di consigli<br />
e di critiche.<br />
Dottore: quarantotto anni, prudente e premuroso, anche lui non risparmia<br />
critiche e consigli.<br />
531
SCENA I<br />
La cuc<strong>in</strong>a della famiglia Voicu<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Un tavolo con sopra della frutta (mele, banane, arance) e dei bicchieri, sedie.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Raluca ha dodici anni ed è la figlia maggiore della famiglia Voicu; Ana<br />
ne ha dieci ed è la m<strong>in</strong>ore. Le due ragazze discutono con la madre, <strong>in</strong> casa.<br />
Raluca: Mamma, vado da Roxana, la mia compagna, dobbiamo fare un progetto<br />
di Biologia. Ciao ciao!<br />
Madre: Bene, va’ pure. Ma non tornare più tardi delle nove, sennò papà si preoccupa.<br />
Ana: Posso andare anche io a giocare da Mihaela?<br />
Madre: Raluca non va a giocare; va a fare un progetto di Biologia. Quando sarai<br />
grande, potrai andare anche tu.<br />
Ana: Però non è giusto…<br />
SCENA II<br />
Raluca e Roxana a casa di quest’ultima<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Abiti sparsi ovunque, rossetti, cosmetici, profumi, spray per capelli…<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Raluca arriva a casa di Roxana, che la <strong>in</strong>vita ad andare con lei a una festa.<br />
Raluca: Ciao, Roxy! Sono venuta per quel progetto di Biologia.<br />
Roxana: Ciao, Raluca, l’ho già f<strong>in</strong>ito. Vieni con me a una festa, ci divertiamo!<br />
Ecco un vestito, cosmetici, rossetto… trucc<strong>at</strong>i un po’ e andiamo!<br />
Raluca: Aspetta un <strong>at</strong>timo! Devo dire a mamma che non abbiamo f<strong>in</strong>ito il progetto<br />
e che passerò la notte da te, così non si preoccupa. [al telefono] Pronto,<br />
mamma… Ho molto da scrivere per questo progetto, dovrò dormire qui da<br />
Roxana, perché devo consegnarlo domani… sai come sono i miei voti.<br />
Madre [al telefono]: Per me puoi restare, ma che dirò a tuo padre?<br />
Raluca: Non ti preoccupare, qualcosa ti verrà <strong>in</strong> mente! Ciao!<br />
Roxana: Bene, adesso andiamo!<br />
532
SCENA III<br />
Alla festa<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Tavolo, registr<strong>at</strong>ore, bicchieri, v<strong>in</strong>o, birra, succhi di frutta, Coca-Cola, ragazzi<br />
e ragazze.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Arriv<strong>at</strong>a al party, Raluca <strong>in</strong>contra il vic<strong>in</strong>o di casa di Roxana.<br />
Roxana: Raluca, lui è Dragos¸, il mio vic<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Raluca: Ciao, Dragos¸, lieta di conoscerti!<br />
Dragos¸: Ciao, Raluca! Che splendido nome…<br />
Roxana: Vi lascio da soli. Vado a prendermi da bere.<br />
Dragos¸: Da quando conosci Roxana?<br />
Raluca: Da molto tempo. Siamo compagne di banco.<br />
Dragos¸: Ah, bene… ma allora come mai non ti ho mai vista con lei nel quartiere?<br />
Raluca: Sai, papà non mi lascia uscire tanto facilmente. Poi studio anche canto,<br />
e non mi resta molto tempo.<br />
Dragos¸: Ti piace cantare? Vuoi diventare una star?<br />
Raluca: Sì, mi piace cantare. E dovrò esercitarmi molto per diventare una star.<br />
Dragos¸: Beviamo qualcosa! Coca, birra, v<strong>in</strong>o… Io prendo del v<strong>in</strong>o, ne vuoi un po’?<br />
Raluca: Sì, quanti anni hai, Dragos¸?<br />
Dragos¸: Ne ho diciassette. E tu?<br />
Raluca: Ne ho dodici e ho una sorella che ne ha dieci.<br />
Dragos¸: Io sono figlio unico. Ti va di andare <strong>in</strong> un posto più tranquillo?<br />
Raluca: Sì. Preferisco la quiete.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Raluca and Dragos¸ vanno <strong>in</strong> camera da letto e dopo averli cerc<strong>at</strong>i per<br />
due ore f<strong>in</strong>almente Roxana li trova.<br />
Roxana: Dove vi erav<strong>at</strong>e nascosti? Vi ho cerc<strong>at</strong>o dappertutto.<br />
Dragos¸: Siamo and<strong>at</strong>i <strong>in</strong> una stanza più tranquilla perché la musica ci faceva venire<br />
il mal di testa.<br />
Roxana: Raluca, stai bene?<br />
Raluca: Ho un leggero mal di testa.<br />
Roxana: Andiamo a casa! Dragos¸, noi ce ne andiamo. Ciao!<br />
Dragos¸: Vi accompagno a casa?<br />
Roxana: No, grazie.<br />
533
SCENA IV<br />
A casa<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Tavolo, bicchieri, sedie, una teiera, frutta…<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Mentre Raluca è alla festa, suo padre torna dal lavoro. Sono le undici<br />
pass<strong>at</strong>e e lui chiede alla moglie.<br />
Padre: Dov’è Raluca?<br />
Madre: Raluca è and<strong>at</strong>a a fare un progetto di Biologia da Roxana, la sua compagna.<br />
Padre: E come mai a quest’ora non è ancora torn<strong>at</strong>a?<br />
Madre: Mi ha telefon<strong>at</strong>o per dire che non avevano term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o il compito e che sarebbe<br />
rimasta da Roxana.<br />
Padre: E perché io non ne so niente? Ho detto che non si può dormire fuori!<br />
Madre: Ma si tr<strong>at</strong>ta di una compagna di scuola…<br />
Padre: Non so se si tr<strong>at</strong>ta di un compagno o una compagna, non ho controll<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Lo vedremo domani.<br />
SCENA V<br />
Raluca torna a casa<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Tavolo, sedie, tazze, l<strong>at</strong>te, cereali…<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: La m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a dopo, quando Raluca torna casa, sua madre è già al lavoro.<br />
Raluca: Buongiorno, papà!<br />
Padre: Non è aff<strong>at</strong>to un buon giorno per te! Stammi a sentire! Dove sei st<strong>at</strong>a tutta<br />
la notte? Da quando dormi a casa dei tuoi amici?<br />
Raluca: Ho parl<strong>at</strong>o con mamma e mi ha detto che potevo dormire da Roxana<br />
per f<strong>in</strong>ire il progetto.<br />
Padre: I compiti non si fanno di notte, ma di giorno. La notte bisogna dormire<br />
<strong>in</strong> modo da andare a scuola ripos<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
534
SCENA VI<br />
Raluca è <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta e dà la notizia a Dragos¸<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Alberi, fiori, cespugli.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Raluca si è sentita male a casa e a scuola; ha avuto la nausea, ha d<strong>at</strong>o<br />
di stomaco, le è cresciuta la pancia. Così la sua amica Roxana le ha consigli<strong>at</strong>o<br />
di andare da un dottore per vedere se era <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta, oppure di fare un test di<br />
gravidanza. Non è and<strong>at</strong>a dal dottore perché avrebbe dovuto portare con sé<br />
sua madre, ma ha f<strong>at</strong>to un test di gravidanza che ha d<strong>at</strong>o esito positivo. È disper<strong>at</strong>a<br />
perché non sa cosa diranno i genitori, né, sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto, il suo ragazzo,<br />
che non vede dalla sera della festa poiché il padre l’ha conf<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> casa. Dopo<br />
c<strong>in</strong>que mesi dalla festa, il rapporto tra Raluca e Dragos¸ è esclusivamente telefonico,<br />
perché il padre di Raluca la accompagna e la va a prendere da scuola<br />
con la macch<strong>in</strong>a. Così Raluca ha pens<strong>at</strong>o di mar<strong>in</strong>are la scuola e di <strong>in</strong>contrarsi<br />
con Dragos¸ per dirgli della sua gravidanza.<br />
Raluca: Ciao, Dragos¸! Dobbiamo vederci subito; ho una cosa molto importante<br />
da dirti.<br />
Dragos¸: Va bene, vediamoci fra mezz’ora.<br />
Dragos¸: Che cos’è successo? Perché volevi <strong>in</strong>contrarmi con tanta fretta?<br />
Raluca: Abbiamo un problema… sono <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta.<br />
Dragos¸: Ne sei certa? Come lo sai?<br />
Raluca: Ne sono sicurissima. Ho f<strong>at</strong>to il test ed è positivo.<br />
Dragos¸: Ti amo, e voglio il bamb<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Raluca: E come farò a dirlo ai miei genitori? Come reagiranno?<br />
Dragos¸: Ti amo e voglio questo bamb<strong>in</strong>o, non importa cosa diranno i tuoi.<br />
Raluca: Anch’io ti amo. Mi verrà <strong>in</strong> mente qualcosa da dirgli.<br />
Dragos¸: Abbi cura di te, ci sentiamo al telefono.<br />
SCENA VII<br />
I genitori ricevono la notizia<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Scrivania, sedia, computer, libri, quaderni, penne, scaffali.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Raluca non sa come dire ai genitori che è <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta, ma loro lo scoprono<br />
subito.<br />
535
Ana: Raluca, come mai stai male?<br />
Raluca: Ti ricordi quella sera che sono and<strong>at</strong>a da Roxana? In effetti non abbiamo<br />
studi<strong>at</strong>o, siamo and<strong>at</strong>e a una festa. Ho <strong>in</strong>contr<strong>at</strong>o un ragazzo di nome Dragos¸,<br />
ci siamo <strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>i e adesso sono <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta.<br />
Ana: Che cos’hai detto? Sei <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta? Sei pazza? Hai pens<strong>at</strong>o a come reagirà papà?<br />
Raluca: Non mi importa. Ci amiamo e ci sposeremo.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: La madre <strong>in</strong>terrompe la conversazione.<br />
Madre: Che succede? Chi è che si sposa?<br />
Ana: Di’ a mamma quello che hai detto a me.<br />
Raluca: Quella notte <strong>in</strong> cui sono st<strong>at</strong>a da Roxana, per quel progetto… beh, ho<br />
mentito: siamo st<strong>at</strong>e a una festa dove ho <strong>in</strong>contr<strong>at</strong>o un ragazzo che amo e che<br />
mi ama. Adesso sono <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta e ci sposeremo.<br />
Madre: Che cosa? Sei <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta? E io che mi fidavo di te… Mi hai delusa. Perché<br />
hai com<strong>in</strong>ci<strong>at</strong>o con il sesso a soli dodici anni? Stupida ragazz<strong>in</strong>a!<br />
Raluca: Io non volevo, ma ho bevuto un po’ e non ricordo più bene…<br />
Madre: Dovevi dirmelo, ti avrei detto come proteggerti. Ci sono tanti metodi<br />
contraccettivi.<br />
Raluca: Noi ci amiamo e ci sposeremo.<br />
Madre: Vivi forse <strong>in</strong> un paese, o appartieni a una cultura, dove le ragazze si sposano<br />
e partoriscono a undici, dodici anni? Tu sei rumena, europea. Le ragazze<br />
si sposano quando ne hanno l’età. Dopo che hanno f<strong>in</strong>ito la scuola trovano<br />
un lavoro, costruiscono una carriera e solo allora pensano a sposarsi. Vedrai<br />
quando lo saprà tuo padre…<br />
Padre: Quando saprò cosa?<br />
Madre: Ha mentito a proposito di quel progetto scolastico la sera <strong>in</strong> cui ha dormito<br />
da Roxana. Ha pass<strong>at</strong>o la notte con un ragazzo… e adesso è <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta,<br />
Padre: Come hai potuto fare una cosa simile? Sei impazzita? Inc<strong>in</strong>ta a dodici anni?<br />
Devi andare subito <strong>in</strong> ospedale e abortire!<br />
Raluca: Io non voglio abortire, non voglio uccidere un bamb<strong>in</strong>o <strong>in</strong>nocente, e <strong>in</strong><br />
più ormai è troppo tardi. Amo Dragos¸ e ci sposeremo.<br />
Padre: Vuoi sposarti a dodici anni? Sei m<strong>at</strong>ta? Prima devi f<strong>in</strong>ire le medie, il liceo,<br />
andare all’università, e poi sposarti, non adesso. Ma se vuoi avere il bamb<strong>in</strong>o,<br />
non c’è più posto per te <strong>in</strong> casa mia… Va’ dal tuo ragazzo e restaci! Non sei più<br />
mia figlia. Per me non esisti più, visto che non mi hai d<strong>at</strong>o ascolto.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Raluca fa i bagagli e chiama Dragos¸, il suo ragazzo.<br />
Raluca: Dragos¸, papà ha scoperto che sono <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta e mi ha cacci<strong>at</strong>o fuori. Che<br />
posso fare?<br />
Dragos¸: Nessun problema, starai da me. Vengo a prenderti.<br />
536
SCENA VIII<br />
Raluca e Roxana<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Alberi, fiori, cespugli<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Raluca si è trasferita da Dragos¸. Ha partorito un maschietto, a soli<br />
tredici anni. Nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo ha smesso di andare a scuola e dedica il suo tempo<br />
ad accudire il piccolo. Ma un giorno, mentre passeggia nel parco col suo<br />
bamb<strong>in</strong>o, <strong>in</strong>contra Roxana, la sua amica.<br />
Roxana: Ciao, Raluca! Come stai? Perché non sei più venuta a scuola? Hai deciso<br />
di lasciarla? E perché non mi hai più chiam<strong>at</strong>a? I tuoi mi hanno detto che eri<br />
and<strong>at</strong>a via. E questo bamb<strong>in</strong>o di chi è? Non sarà mica il tuo? È un maschio o<br />
una femm<strong>in</strong>a? Non hai più abortito, allora…<br />
Raluca: Troppe domande, mi gira la testa! È mio cug<strong>in</strong>o e devo riportarlo a casa<br />
dalla madre. Scusa ma vado di fretta. Ti chiamo così ci vediamo. Ciao!<br />
SCENA IX<br />
La mamma va alla scuola di Raluca su richiesta della preside<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Scrivania, computer, agenda, penna, vaso di fiori.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: La mamma ha mentito all’<strong>in</strong>segnante che cont<strong>in</strong>uava a telefonare per<br />
chiedere di Raluca, dicendo che la figlia era all’estero con una zia. La preside<br />
l’ha chiam<strong>at</strong>a per chiarire la situazione.<br />
Madre: Salve preside. Sono la madre di Raluca Voicu e sono venuta su sua richiesta.<br />
Preside: Salve, signora Voicu. Le ho chiesto di venire per discutere della situazione<br />
scolastica di Raluca. Come lei sa, Raluca non viene a scuola ormai da tempo,<br />
ha f<strong>at</strong>to molte assenze e dovrà ripetere l’anno. Mi dispiace perché è una ragazza<br />
dot<strong>at</strong>a e che si impegna, studia canto, ma questi sono i f<strong>at</strong>ti. Non ha voti<br />
per via di tutte le assenze che ha f<strong>at</strong>to nel primo semestre, mentre nel secondo<br />
semestre non è mai venuta a lezione.<br />
Madre: Preside, è giusto che lei sappia: mia figlia ha abbandon<strong>at</strong>o la scuola perché<br />
è rimasta <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta, senza che noi ne sapessimo niente. Credo che nel fr<strong>at</strong>tempo<br />
abbia anche partorito… Non so nulla di lei… Suo padre l’ha cacci<strong>at</strong>a<br />
di casa e al momento non vive con noi; vive col suo ragazzo.<br />
537
Preside: Come è potuto accadere a Raluca, che ha solo dodici anni e due genitori<br />
che le stanno vic<strong>in</strong>o?<br />
Madre: Ha detto che andava da una compagna a fare un compito di Biologia…<br />
È accaduto lì. Purtroppo quando lo abbiamo scoperto era troppo tardi.<br />
Preside: Mi dispiace per quanto è successo. Forse siete st<strong>at</strong>i troppo severi, ed è<br />
successo per questo. Dobbiamo lasciare ai figli un m<strong>in</strong>imo di libertà per esprimersi<br />
ed esplorare il mondo esterno, <strong>in</strong> modo che impar<strong>in</strong>o a dist<strong>in</strong>guere con<br />
le loro forze il bene dal male. Spero almeno che tutto questo sia di lezione per<br />
Ana.<br />
Madre: Staremo più <strong>at</strong>tenti con lei.<br />
Preside: Arrivederci, signora Voicu! Grazie per essere pass<strong>at</strong>a. È un pecc<strong>at</strong>o che<br />
sua figlia abbia lasci<strong>at</strong>o la scuola. Ora non vi resta che aiutarla a sviluppare il<br />
suo talento, ha una voce così bella…<br />
Madre: Grazie per la sua comprensione e i suoi consigli. È un uomo severo, ma<br />
cercherò di conv<strong>in</strong>cere mio marito per il bene di Raluca.<br />
SCENA X<br />
Dialogo tra sorelle<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Tavolo, sedie, bicchieri, antipasti sul tavolo.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Dopo due anni, Raluca va a casa <strong>in</strong> un momento <strong>in</strong> cui i genitori sono<br />
fuori, e parla con sua sorella Ana, che ha avuto la sua stessa sorte: è rimasta<br />
<strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta a dodici anni.<br />
Raluca: Ana, come stai? Sono venuta a trovarti perché mi mancavi.<br />
Ana: Ciao! Non mi sento molto bene, ho mal di pancia e ho salt<strong>at</strong>o il ciclo… ho<br />
la nausea, credo mi sia successa la stessa cosa che è capit<strong>at</strong>a a te. Sono <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta!<br />
Raluca: E che cosa farai? Spero tu non stia pensando di abortire!<br />
Ana: Non so cosa farò, ma di sicuro non quello che hai f<strong>at</strong>to tu: lasciare la scuola!<br />
Non <strong>in</strong>terromperò gli studi. Aver smesso di studiare non ti è st<strong>at</strong>o di aiuto.<br />
Raluca: È una scelta tua. Fa’ quello che vuoi! Però pensaci: c’è di mezzo la vita di<br />
un bamb<strong>in</strong>o, un’anima <strong>in</strong>nocente, e tu vuoi ucciderlo!<br />
Ana: Rifletterò meglio sulla situazione.<br />
Raluca: È meglio che me ne vada prima che i tuoi torn<strong>in</strong>o a casa. Ciao, ci vediamo<br />
presto! Pensa bene a quello che fai.<br />
538
SCENA XI<br />
Dialogo fra amiche<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Tavolo, sedie, bottiglie di succo di frutta sul tavolo, pizza.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Ana è and<strong>at</strong>a dalla sua amica Mihaela per confessarle un segreto.<br />
Ana: Ciao Mihaela! Che bello che ci siamo viste. Devo dirti un segreto; magari tu<br />
saprai darmi un consiglio.<br />
Mihaela: Di che segreto si tr<strong>at</strong>ta? Come posso aiutarti?<br />
Ana: Sono <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta e non so cosa fare… tenere il bamb<strong>in</strong>o o abortire?<br />
Mihaela: Com’è possibile che tu sia rimasta <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta? Perché non hai preso precauzioni?<br />
Vuoi fare come tua sorella che ha lasci<strong>at</strong>o la scuola? I tuoi lo sanno?<br />
Ana: No, non lo so, ma di sicuro non voglio lasciare la scuola. Voglio una carriera.<br />
Mihaela: In tal caso devi parlare con tua madre e abortire.<br />
Ana: Sì, purtroppo è l’unica soluzione.<br />
Mihaela: Anche perché se tuo padre viene a saperlo ti butta fuori come ha f<strong>at</strong>to<br />
con tua sorella. Dillo subito a tua madre e vai ad abortire!<br />
Ana: Vado subito a casa e dico a mia madre di accompagnarmi dal dottore.<br />
Mihaela: D’accordo, Ana! Fammi sapere come va. Ciao!<br />
Ana: Lo farò. Ciao!<br />
SCENA XII<br />
Ana e sua madre<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Tavolo, sedie, pi<strong>at</strong>ti, bicchieri, pos<strong>at</strong>e.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Ana torna di corsa a casa e dice alla madre il grande segreto.<br />
Ana: Mamma, devo dirti una cosa molto importante.<br />
Madre: Cos’è successo?<br />
Ana: Devo andare di corsa dal dottore perché ho mal di pancia e la nausea; non<br />
mi sento bene.<br />
Madre: Non si ripeterà mica quello che è successo con tua sorella, che è venuta<br />
a dirmi che era <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta? Li conosci i metodi di contraccezione, il profil<strong>at</strong>tico…<br />
Ana: Mamma, non credo di essere <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta, sono solo ammal<strong>at</strong>a. Tutto qui.<br />
Madre: Va bene. Vedremo.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: La madre dice al padre che porta Ana dal dottore per fare gli annuali<br />
controlli medici.<br />
539
Madre: Porto Ana dal dottore. Deve fare il controllo annuale.<br />
Padre: Vi accompagno <strong>in</strong> macch<strong>in</strong>a?<br />
Madre: No, grazie. Ci farà bene camm<strong>in</strong>are un po’.<br />
Padre: Va bene. Chiam<strong>at</strong>emi che vengo a prendervi.<br />
Madre: D’accordo, caro!<br />
SCENA XIII<br />
La visita dal dottore<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Scrivania, ricettari, penne, computer, guanti sterili, apparecchio per misurare<br />
la pressione, termometro, strumenti sterili, lett<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Ana e sua madre entrano nello studio del g<strong>in</strong>ecologo.<br />
Madre: Buonasera, dottore.<br />
Dottore: Buonasera. Qual è il problema?<br />
Madre: Ho port<strong>at</strong>o mia figlia a fare un controllo, perché si lamenta di avere dolori<br />
addom<strong>in</strong>ali e non ha avuto il ciclo. Temo che abbia f<strong>at</strong>to come sua sorella:<br />
<strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta a dodici anni!<br />
Dottore: A dodici anni? Così giovane? Ma com’è possibile? Dovrò visitarla. Signora,<br />
per favore, vada <strong>in</strong> sala d’aspetto, e la chiamerò una volta complet<strong>at</strong>a<br />
la visita.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Dopo dieci m<strong>in</strong>uti, il dottore dice alla madre di entrare nello studio.<br />
Dottore: Prego, signora Voicu, entri! Sua figlia è <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta di due mesi. Cosa <strong>in</strong>tende<br />
fare?<br />
Madre: Ecco, proprio come sua sorella… Forse la colpa è del padre che le ha tenute<br />
sempre <strong>in</strong> casa ed è st<strong>at</strong>o troppo rigido.<br />
Dottore: Troppa severità non va bene, così come la troppa libertà. I bamb<strong>in</strong>i<br />
vanno controll<strong>at</strong>i, non conf<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>i <strong>in</strong> casa, perché poi non sanno come comportarsi.<br />
Madre: Se suo padre lo scopre, la butta fuori come ha f<strong>at</strong>to con la sorella. Vorrei<br />
che abortisse.<br />
Dottore: Ci sono dei rischi quando si è così giovani. Farò del mio meglio. Da un<br />
punto di vista psicologico, per lei è come uccidere il suo bamb<strong>in</strong>o. Le consiglio<br />
di portarla da uno psicologo dopo l’aborto, per ritrovare un po’ di pace.<br />
Madre: La r<strong>in</strong>grazio per i suoi consigli.<br />
Dottore: Ana, per favore, entra e dicci che cos’hai deciso. Ho parl<strong>at</strong>o con tua<br />
madre; sa che sei <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta. Dovete prendere una decisione <strong>in</strong>sieme.<br />
540
Madre: Com’è possibile una cosa simile? Hai seguito l’esempio di tua sorella?<br />
Non sapevi che esistono dei modi per proteggersi? Pillola anticoncezionale,<br />
preserv<strong>at</strong>ivi…<br />
Ana: Mamma, smettila di farmi la lezione, ormai è troppo tardi! È successo… La<br />
cosa importante è che papà non venga a saperlo, e fare subito l’<strong>in</strong>tervento. Non<br />
voglio lasciare la scuola come ha f<strong>at</strong>to mia sorella… voglio cont<strong>in</strong>uare gli studi.<br />
Madre: Dottore, per favore, mi dica quanto verrà a costarmi.<br />
Dottore: Le tariffe sono scritte sulla porta.<br />
Madre: Costa molto! Ma che devo fare? Qualcuno deve pagare per la stupidità di<br />
mia figlia.<br />
Narr<strong>at</strong>ore: Dopo un paio d’ore di <strong>at</strong>tesa, la madre entra di nuovo nello studio e<br />
chiede al dottore:<br />
Madre: Dottore, come sta mia figlia? È and<strong>at</strong>o tutto bene? Possiamo andare a casa?<br />
Perché suo padre mi ha telefon<strong>at</strong>o per sapere come mai non torniamo. È<br />
preoccup<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Dottore: Sta bene adesso, ma prima di andare a casa, ferm<strong>at</strong>evi <strong>in</strong> farmacia a<br />
comprare gli antibiotici che le prescriverò, <strong>in</strong> modo che non le venga un’<strong>in</strong>fezione;<br />
le ho anche suggerito una pillola anticoncezionale, per il futuro.<br />
Madre: La r<strong>in</strong>grazio molto.<br />
SCENA XIV<br />
I genitori<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Tavolo, sedie, birra, bicchieri.<br />
Padre: Dove siete st<strong>at</strong>e tutto questo tempo?<br />
Madre: Dal dottore. Abbiamo dovuto aspettare i risult<strong>at</strong>i degli esami.<br />
Padre: E che c’è che non va?<br />
Madre: Una leggera anemia. Siamo and<strong>at</strong>e <strong>in</strong> farmacia a prendere le medic<strong>in</strong>e<br />
prescritte dal dottore.<br />
Padre: È grave? Che medic<strong>in</strong>e?<br />
Madre: Non è niente di grave. Si tr<strong>at</strong>ta di vitam<strong>in</strong>e per recuperare le forze e di un<br />
<strong>in</strong>tegr<strong>at</strong>ore di ferro per l’anemia.<br />
541
SCENA XV<br />
Ana e Mihaela<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Alberi, fiori, cespugli.<br />
Ana: Ciao Mihaela. Ho seguito il tuo consiglio e sono and<strong>at</strong>a con mamma dal<br />
dottore per abortire.<br />
Mihaela: Sono contenta che non hai lasci<strong>at</strong>o la scuola come ha f<strong>at</strong>to tua sorella,<br />
ma mi dispiace per l’anima <strong>in</strong>nocente che hai ucciso.<br />
Ana: So che non è bello aver ucciso un bamb<strong>in</strong>o, ma era l’unico modo per proseguire<br />
gli studi e avere una carriera.<br />
Mihaela: È un bene che tu cont<strong>in</strong>ui a studiare, così potrai avere dei bamb<strong>in</strong>i più<br />
<strong>in</strong> là. Bada di prendere precauzioni <strong>in</strong> futuro, perché non accada di nuovo.<br />
Ana: Il dottore mi ha prescritto delle pillole anticoncezionali. Ti saluto! Ciao!<br />
Mihaela: Ciao ciao!<br />
SCENA XVI<br />
Le due sorelle<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Scrivania, computer, quaderni, libri.<br />
Raluca: Ana, come stai? Cos’hai f<strong>at</strong>to della gravidanza?<br />
Ana: Sono and<strong>at</strong>a dal dottore con mamma e ho abortito.<br />
Raluca: Hai f<strong>at</strong>to un grosso errore a uccidere un’anima <strong>in</strong>nocente!<br />
Ana: Sì, è st<strong>at</strong>o un errore, ma almeno non ho abbandon<strong>at</strong>o la scuola come hai f<strong>at</strong>to<br />
tu. Costruirò una carriera… avrò una famiglia, un giorno, ma non adesso.<br />
Raluca: Non preoccuparti: tante persone non hanno f<strong>at</strong>to l’università ma hanno<br />
ugualmente avuto successo. Grazie al mio talento anch’io farò la mia strada<br />
e diventerò una star!<br />
Ana: Sono felice per te. Dragos¸ ti ama, si prende cura di te e la tua vita va bene.<br />
Dragos¸: Fai bene a f<strong>in</strong>ire la scuola e trovare un lavoro.<br />
Raluca: Sono felice che cont<strong>in</strong>ui a studiare, ma allo stesso tempo mi fa star male<br />
il pensiero del piccolo che hai ucciso. Ci sentiamo presto. Adesso andiamo<br />
via. Ciao!<br />
542
SCENA XVII<br />
Epilogo, <strong>in</strong> famiglia<br />
Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Tavolo, sedie, frutta, dolci, caraffe, bicchieri.<br />
Padre: Visto quello che è successo a tua sorella, che ha abbandon<strong>at</strong>o la scuola dopo<br />
essere rimasta <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta, non voglio che questo si ripeta anche con te. F<strong>in</strong>ché<br />
sarai s<strong>in</strong>cera con me e rispetterai i tuoi doveri scolastici, ti lascerò fare quello<br />
che vuoi.<br />
Ana: Non abbandonerò la scuola come ha f<strong>at</strong>to lei. Porterò a term<strong>in</strong>e gli studi e<br />
solo dopo penserò al m<strong>at</strong>rimonio e alla famiglia.<br />
Padre: Me lo auguro! Per il tuo bene.<br />
Madre: Spero che d’ora <strong>in</strong> poi ti serva di lezione, per non commettere gli stessi<br />
errori di tua sorella. Sei cresciuta e da questi errori hai tr<strong>at</strong>to una lezione. Sai<br />
come si dice: sbagliando si impara! Mi auguro sia vero anche per te.<br />
543
Personaggi<br />
Questa non è una favola<br />
COORDINATORE<br />
Anca Florea, Associazione «No Abuse», Bucarest<br />
AUTORE<br />
Alexandru Stoica, nono anno<br />
Spike, un qu<strong>in</strong>dicenne.<br />
Madre di Spike, una donna che lavora sodo, ma è delusa dalla vita.<br />
Tony, migliore amico e compagno di scuola di Spike.<br />
Flori, amica di Tony; frequentano la stessa scuola.<br />
Maria, amica e compagna di classe di Flori.<br />
Signor Badea, il padre di Spike, un uomo che ama il denaro.<br />
Alexandra, figlia del signor Badea, sorellastra di Spike.<br />
Cost<strong>in</strong>, figlio del signor Badea e fr<strong>at</strong>ello di Alexandra, fr<strong>at</strong>ellastro di Spike.<br />
Tre studenti.<br />
Insegnante.<br />
SCENA I<br />
Bucarest. Gli allievi dell’ottavo anno 1 stanno per sostenere l’esame. Agitazione. Confusione.<br />
Si spostano banchi.<br />
Studente 1: Amico, mi serve una mano! Avvic<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>i col banco!<br />
Studente 2: E se ci becca?<br />
544
Studente 1: Sta’ calmo… non ci beccherà… Prendi questo!<br />
Studente 3: Non così… sp<strong>in</strong>gi un po’ di più… ecco.<br />
Entra l’<strong>in</strong>segnante coi compiti d’esame.<br />
Insegnante: Eccomi qua! Forza, basta così, silenzio! Riempite la colonna destra<br />
del foglio… ormai lo sapete… Nome e cognome, nome e cognome di padre e<br />
madre, scuola eccetera. Non f<strong>at</strong>e errori!<br />
Spike: E se uno non ha il padre?<br />
Insegnante [<strong>in</strong>fastidito]: Non lo scrivi…<br />
Studente 1: Questo non ha il padre?<br />
Studente 2: Boh…<br />
Studente 3 [ridendo]: Qual è il tuo grande segreto, amico?<br />
All’improvviso Spike si alza <strong>in</strong> piedi e, rivolto al pubblico, com<strong>in</strong>cia a cantare a ritmo<br />
di hip-hop. Durante la sua esibizione, la scena cambia e al posto dell’aula scolastica<br />
appare l’<strong>in</strong>terno di un appartamento, compresa la porta d’<strong>in</strong>gresso. Sul pavimento<br />
ci sono carte sparse, vestiti e pi<strong>at</strong>ti sporchi.<br />
Spike [a ritmo di hip-hop]: Da quando ero bamb<strong>in</strong>o, vivo <strong>in</strong> un segreto<br />
La mia vita… è un <strong>in</strong>cidente<br />
Mia madre… mi ha tir<strong>at</strong>o su da sola<br />
Papà è una brutta parola<br />
Mi sono f<strong>at</strong>to coraggio<br />
Pensando: la speranza non muore mai<br />
So che scoprirò tutto<br />
Penso solo a questo.<br />
Spike e sua madre entrano <strong>in</strong> casa nello stesso momento. Lei si mette a raccogliere le<br />
carte sparse e i pi<strong>at</strong>ti dal pavimento, mentre lui la guarda.<br />
Madre: Spike, che ti prende?<br />
Spike: È tanto che voglio chiedertelo, ma non ho il coraggio. Qualche notizia su<br />
mio padre… non te l’ho mai chiesto.<br />
Madre: Che cosa vuoi sapere?<br />
Spike: Dov’è? Chi è? Perché mi ha lasci<strong>at</strong>o?<br />
Madre: Perché vuoi saperlo proprio ora?<br />
Spike: Mamma, sono qu<strong>in</strong>dici anni che vivo con questo segreto. In effetti… sono<br />
un segreto io stesso. Non conosco il mio pass<strong>at</strong>o; non so chi sono. Ne ho<br />
abbastanza!<br />
545
Madre: Nemmeno io so bene chi sia… <strong>in</strong>somma, non lo sapevo… f<strong>in</strong>ché non<br />
ho scoperto…<br />
Spike: Come vi siete <strong>in</strong>contr<strong>at</strong>i tu e papà?<br />
Madre: Andavo all’università e <strong>in</strong>contrai un uomo meraviglioso… tuo padre.<br />
Spike: Lo amavi molto?<br />
Madre: Sì, ma col tempo lui è cambi<strong>at</strong>o. Ci vedevamo solo ogni tanto, e quando<br />
gli dissi che ero <strong>in</strong>c<strong>in</strong>ta…<br />
Spike: Se ne andò.<br />
Madre: Sì.<br />
Spike: Perché se ne è and<strong>at</strong>o? Perché non mi voleva?<br />
Madre: Perché anche lui aveva un segreto. Io stessa l’ho scoperto molto tempo<br />
dopo.<br />
Spike: E qual è questo grande segreto?<br />
Madre: A che serve saperlo?<br />
Spike [parlando fra sé]: Troppi segreti… ci sono troppi segreti.<br />
Madre: Faceva una doppia vita. Aveva già una famiglia! Spike…<br />
Spike: Perciò… io potrei avere dei fr<strong>at</strong>elli, delle sorelle?<br />
Madre: Sì. È probabile… ma non so niente di loro.<br />
Spike: Ma qual è il suo cognome?<br />
Madre: Badea. Ma non pensare al signore che abita al secondo piano, perché non<br />
è lui!<br />
Spike [ridendo]: Quel ciccione? [serio] E tu l’hai lasci<strong>at</strong>o fare? Non hai cerc<strong>at</strong>o di<br />
fermarlo?<br />
Madre: Non sapevo che volesse andar via. È partito di notte. È scomparso e basta.<br />
Mi ha lasci<strong>at</strong>o solo un biglietto <strong>in</strong> cui diceva che se ne andava, e che aveva<br />
già una famiglia.<br />
Spike: Hai detto che era un uomo buono, un uomo meraviglioso… ma quale<br />
persona buona lascerebbe che suo figlio cresca da solo?<br />
Madre: Capirai presto che l’amore è cieco. Allora lo amavo. Ma non contavo per<br />
lui. Contava solo l’altra famiglia.<br />
Spike: Mamma. Voglio trovarlo!<br />
Madre: Perché vuoi trovarlo, dopo che ti ha abbandon<strong>at</strong>o?<br />
Spike: Perché nella vita tutto si paga!<br />
Esce.<br />
Madre: Com’è and<strong>at</strong>o l’esame?<br />
Spike [con la testa che sporge dalla porta ]: Bene…<br />
546
SCENA II<br />
A lezione di <strong>in</strong>form<strong>at</strong>ica. Gli allievi <strong>in</strong>dossano l’uniforme scolastica, ma sotto si <strong>in</strong>travedono<br />
abiti da strada: jeans nascosti nei pantaloni sbotton<strong>at</strong>i e magliette color<strong>at</strong>e<br />
nelle giacche.<br />
Tony: Spike, amico, giochiamo un po’ a Counter Strike.<br />
Spike: Non adesso, Tony. Devo fare una cosa su Facebook.<br />
Tony: Forza amico. Giochiamo. Che cavolo devi fare su Facebook?<br />
Spike: Voglio vedere se c’è qualche foto di mio padre.<br />
Tony: Che padre? Non lo conosci nemmeno… sai almeno che faccia ha?<br />
Spike: No, ma ho parl<strong>at</strong>o con mamma e so come si chiama. E credo che mi somigli.<br />
Tony: E davvero <strong>in</strong>tendi cercarlo? E se fosse un senz<strong>at</strong>etto?<br />
Spike: Potrei trovare almeno i miei fr<strong>at</strong>elli… mi dai una mano?<br />
Tony: Va bene… e Facebook sia, allora!<br />
Suona la campana dell’<strong>in</strong>tervallo. Entrano molti studenti, tra cui Maria e Flori.<br />
Flori: Non è car<strong>in</strong>o Tony? Che te ne pare?<br />
Maria: Sì. È car<strong>in</strong>o. Ci vuoi uscire <strong>in</strong>sieme?<br />
Flori: Siamo amici, però mi piacerebbe che ci fosse qualcosa di più…<br />
Maria: Beh, prova a parlarci.<br />
Flori: Sì, ma che gli dico? Che mi piace? Suona strano…<br />
Maria: Allora aspetta che faccia lui il primo passo.<br />
Flori: Potrei aspettare <strong>in</strong> eterno… Credi che gli piaceranno i miei shorts nuovi?<br />
Maria: Non lo so. Vediamo!<br />
Si toglie la gonna della divisa e resta <strong>in</strong> shorts.<br />
Tony: Ciao Flori! Come stai?<br />
Flori: Bene. Ho lezione di Inform<strong>at</strong>ica. Tu come stai?<br />
Tony: Vado a fare un giro con Spike. Tanto abbiamo Religione, adesso.<br />
Spike prende da parte Tony.<br />
Spike: Chi è quella vic<strong>in</strong>o a Flori?<br />
Tony: La sua amica. Si chiama Maria. Perché?<br />
Spike: È molto car<strong>in</strong>a e… non so perché, ma mi sento strano.<br />
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Tony [ride]: Non sarai mica <strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>o!<br />
Spike: …<br />
Entrambi si avvic<strong>in</strong>ano a Maria e Flori.<br />
Tony: Maria… Spike.<br />
Spike: Piacere.<br />
Maria: Piacere mio!<br />
Tony trasc<strong>in</strong>a Flori da una parte tenendola per un braccio.<br />
Spike: …<br />
Maria: …<br />
Spike: Tu e Tony siete amici?<br />
Maria: Flori è molto più <strong>in</strong> confidenza con lui. Noi ci conosciamo appena.<br />
Spike: Credi ci sia qualcosa tra loro?<br />
Maria: Non ne sono sicura, ma passano molto tempo <strong>in</strong>sieme. Credo che a Flori<br />
piacerebbe, ma vorrebbe che Tony le dicesse qualcosa.<br />
Spike: Credo che lei a lui piaccia come…<br />
Maria: Come cosa?<br />
Spike: Senti, stavo pensando, se ti va, potremmo uscire a prendere un gel<strong>at</strong>o tutti<br />
e qu<strong>at</strong>tro <strong>in</strong>sieme.<br />
Maria: Ma io ho lezione…<br />
Spike: Tanto a Inform<strong>at</strong>ica non c’è niente da fare, io ho Religione, perciò…<br />
Maria: Non lo so. Se anche Flori è d’accordo, allora andiamo.<br />
Entrano Tony e Flori.<br />
Tony: Avete deciso? Usciamo come… una bella famiglia?<br />
Escono tutti.<br />
SCENA III<br />
Una giorn<strong>at</strong>a di primavera, al parco. Spike e Flori siedono su una panch<strong>in</strong>a. Entra<br />
Tony.<br />
Tony: Ragazzi, ho port<strong>at</strong>o semi di girasole, succo di frutta e sigarette, ma solo per<br />
gli adulti [ride e si accende una sigaretta].<br />
548
Squilla il telefono. Spike risponde.<br />
Spike: Ciao, piccola.<br />
Maria [al telefono]: Come stai, amore? Dove sei?<br />
Spike: Sto bene. Sono al parco con Tony e Flori. Ci siamo tutti. Manchi solo tu!<br />
Maria: Ma c’è il compito! Dovresti venire a scuola anche tu!<br />
Spike [recitando]: Si sta troppo bene qua fuori / per r<strong>in</strong>chiudersi a scuola.<br />
Maria: Lo so, ma…<br />
Spike: Forza, piccola, vieni! Lascia perdere quel cavolo di compito <strong>in</strong> classe!<br />
Maria: Non lo so. Passami un <strong>at</strong>timo Flori.<br />
Flori: Ehi, come va? Proprio oggi hai un compito <strong>in</strong> classe?<br />
Maria: Sì, di Romeno. Tu non vieni?<br />
Flori: Sono con Tony… Dovresti venire anche tu, con Spike… abbiamo port<strong>at</strong>o<br />
da bere.<br />
Maria: Va bene, arrivo… Tanto non ero prepar<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Tony prende da parte Spike.<br />
Tony: Amico, l’ho trov<strong>at</strong>o!<br />
Spike: Di chi parli?<br />
Tony: Ho trov<strong>at</strong>o tuo padre su Facebook!<br />
Spike: Sei sicuro che sia proprio lui?<br />
Tony: Ha la tua stessa faccia. Deve essere lui! Lucian Badea…<br />
Spike: E… dove abita? Che c’è scritto?<br />
Tony: Qui a Bucarest.<br />
Maria [che è appena entr<strong>at</strong>a e si trova alle loro spalle]: Chi è che vive a Bucarest?<br />
Spike: …<br />
Maria: Spike?<br />
Spike [la bacia]: Piccola, mi sei manc<strong>at</strong>a… [l’abbraccia].<br />
Maria: Smettila di cambiare discorso! Si tr<strong>at</strong>ta di una ragazza, vero?<br />
Spike: No… Vieni, dài. Siediti con noi. Dopo ti racconto.<br />
I personaggi restano immobili, a parte Spike.<br />
Spike [canta]: La scuola non mi <strong>in</strong>teressa più<br />
Adesso ho l’affetto che ho sempre sogn<strong>at</strong>o<br />
La vera famiglia <strong>in</strong> cui ho sempre sper<strong>at</strong>o<br />
Come se Dio avesse voluto ricompensarmi<br />
E niente più potesse farmi a pezzi<br />
549
La meta è chiara nella mia mente<br />
E alla f<strong>in</strong>e papà vedrà<br />
Che anche senza di lui sono riuscito a sfondare.<br />
SCENA IV<br />
Agosto, pomeriggio. Una terrazzo di Bucarest. Spike pulisce i tavoli. Il signor Badea<br />
legge il giornale seduto su una sedia.<br />
Spike: Signor Badea, le serve altro dopo che ho f<strong>in</strong>ito qui?<br />
Signor Badea: Prima f<strong>in</strong>isci, e poi ne parliamo.<br />
Alexandra [entrando <strong>in</strong> scena]: Papà, ti chiama mamma <strong>in</strong> cuc<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Il signor Badea si alza ed esce.<br />
Alexandra: Spike, posso aiutarti così f<strong>in</strong>isci prima?<br />
Spike: No, ce la faccio.<br />
Alexandra: Tanto non ho niente da fare…<br />
Spike: Va bene, allora pulisci queste tazze.<br />
Alexandra rompe una tazza e si ch<strong>in</strong>a a raccoglierla.<br />
Spike: Ah, ti aiuto. Attenta a non tagliarti…<br />
Alexandra: Mi dispiace. Spero che papà non se la prenda con te.<br />
Spike: Non fa niente [la bacia sulla guancia].<br />
Alexandra: E alla tua ragazza non dispiacerà?<br />
Spike: Non credo…<br />
Entra il signor Badea. Alexandra esce con le tazze.<br />
Spike: Ecco, ho f<strong>in</strong>ito. Le serve altro?<br />
Signor Badea: No. grazie del tuo aiuto.<br />
Spike: A che ora devo venire domani?<br />
Signor Badea: Domani è chiuso. Porto la famiglia a pescare. Potresti venire anche<br />
tu…<br />
Spike: Sì, mi piacerebbe tanto. Grazie per l’<strong>in</strong>vito!<br />
Signor Badea: Va bene. Vieni qui alle c<strong>in</strong>que allora.<br />
Spike: Viene… viene anche Alexandra?<br />
550
Signor Badea [ridendo]: Sì. Viene anche lei.<br />
Spike: Ho capito. Arrivederci! A domani!<br />
Spike esce.<br />
Signor Badea: Alexandra, vieni qua un <strong>at</strong>timo. Vorrei parlarti!<br />
Alexandra [da dietro le qu<strong>in</strong>te]: Sì, papà, dimmi [entra].<br />
Signor Badea: Vedo che tu e Spike and<strong>at</strong>e molto d’accordo.<br />
Alexandra: Beh… sì…<br />
Signor Badea: Ti piace, il ragazzo?<br />
Alexandra: In effetti, papà, sì. Credo sia un gran bravo ragazzo. [parlando fra sé]<br />
Come se lo conoscessi da chissà quanto tempo…<br />
Signor Badea: Sì, è un bravo ragazzo. Lavora sodo. E non mi costa molto. È conveniente<br />
averlo <strong>in</strong>torno…<br />
Alexandra: Cosa? Che vuoi dire?<br />
Signor Badea: Niente. Solo che mi è sembr<strong>at</strong>o che andaste d’accordo.<br />
Alexandra [di fretta]: Sì. Andiamo molto d’accordo.<br />
Signor Badea [tra sé]: Vorrei che tuo fr<strong>at</strong>ello si desse da fare come lui…<br />
Il signor Badea esce. Spike entra dall’angolo destro della terrazzo. Alexandra resta<br />
sulla s<strong>in</strong>istra. Lui canta.<br />
Alexandra: Sono <strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>a cotta…<br />
Spike: Scopriranno il mio segreto?<br />
Alexandra: Sento che mi nasconde qualcosa.<br />
Spike: Chissà se lei lo sa già.<br />
Alexandra: Non so perché, ma mi sento strana.<br />
Spike: Lei è la sorella che ho sempre voluto.<br />
Alexandra: Devo dirgli al più presto…<br />
Spike: … che sono suo fr<strong>at</strong>ello.<br />
SCENA V<br />
Da McDonald’s, il pomeriggio. Maria e Flori sono sedute <strong>in</strong> terrazza.<br />
Flori: Spike ha pass<strong>at</strong>o l’esame?<br />
Maria: No, è st<strong>at</strong>o bocci<strong>at</strong>o. Passa più tempo con voi che a scuola.<br />
Flori: Non lo passa neanche con noi, il tempo. È sempre occup<strong>at</strong>o a fare altro.<br />
551
Maria: Ho l’impressione che abbia <strong>in</strong> mente qualcosa. Quando gliel’ho chiesto,<br />
mi ha detto che doveva fare una cosa importante e che non gli importava di ripetere<br />
l’anno.<br />
Flori: Ho sbagli<strong>at</strong>o i compiti di M<strong>at</strong>em<strong>at</strong>ica e Geografia. Spero di passare lo stesso.<br />
Maria: Devi passare! Così saremo compagne di classe anche l’anno prossimo!<br />
Flori: Però se non passo, sarò <strong>in</strong> classe con Tony… [sorride con aria sognante].<br />
Maria: Quanto vi am<strong>at</strong>e voi due…<br />
Entrano Spike, che tiene per mano Alexandra, il signor Badea e Cost<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Cost<strong>in</strong>: Pesce e gel<strong>at</strong>o stanno bene <strong>in</strong>sieme?<br />
Ridono tutti.<br />
Signor Badea: Forza, sediamoci. Che volete da mangiare?<br />
Iniziano a spostare le sedie e a sedersi.<br />
Flori [a bocca aperta]: Guard<strong>at</strong>e. Non è Spike quello?<br />
Maria: Dove?<br />
Si volta a guardare nella direzione <strong>in</strong>dic<strong>at</strong>e da Flori.<br />
Maria [come parlando tra sé, a ritmo di hip-hop]: Non posso crederci / Mi ha tradita<br />
/ Quando tutto era perfetto.<br />
Si alza e corre vic<strong>in</strong>o a Spike. Spike la vede e si alza anche lui.<br />
Spike: Maria! Aspetta!<br />
Maria [a ritmo di hip-hop]: Non voglio sentire, mi basta quello che vedo / Mi hai<br />
risposto con f<strong>in</strong> troppa chiarezza!<br />
Da adesso <strong>in</strong> poi, tutti recitano a ritmo di hip-hop.<br />
Flori: Lasciala stare, Spike!<br />
Alexandra: Chi è lei?<br />
Flori: Tu sta’ zitta. E f<strong>at</strong>ti da parte!<br />
Alexandra: Ehi, voglio sapere che succede. In che guaio mi sono messa!<br />
552
Spike prende per mano Maria.<br />
Spike: Ti spiego tutto subito.<br />
Signor Badea: Sentiamo!<br />
Tutti [tranne Maria]: Sì, sentiamo!<br />
Maria: Qualunque cosa tu dica è <strong>in</strong>utile! [fa per andarsene].<br />
Spike: Aspetta, / Non andare! / Ascolta almeno la mia storia!<br />
Signor Badea [salta <strong>in</strong> piedi]: Di qualunque cosa si tr<strong>at</strong>ti, sei licenzi<strong>at</strong>o!<br />
Spike: Papà, sta’ <strong>at</strong>tento a non farti venire un <strong>in</strong>farto!<br />
Tutti: Papà!?!<br />
Alexandra [rivolta al signor Badea]: Papà? È vero? Spike è…<br />
Spike [al signor Badea]: Credevi di esserti sbarazz<strong>at</strong>o di me / Non dimenticare<br />
che nella vita tutto si paga / Sono venuto a ricordartelo.<br />
Alexandra: Mi sono <strong>in</strong>namor<strong>at</strong>a di mio fr<strong>at</strong>ello / Papà, mi hai mentito!<br />
Signor Badea: Io non rendo conto a nessuno! / Tranne che a Dio! / Cosa credi di<br />
aver ottenuto / Ingannando la mia famiglia?<br />
Spike: Volevo che sapessero chi sei veramente. / Forse non vuoi bene neanche a<br />
loro.<br />
Alexandra: Non so più cosa pensare…<br />
Signor Badea: È vero, forse ho sbagli<strong>at</strong>o con te. / Ma ho am<strong>at</strong>o i miei bamb<strong>in</strong>i.<br />
Cost<strong>in</strong>: Chi è questo? E che vuole?<br />
Signor Badea: Forse vuole i miei soldi…<br />
Alexandra: Non posso credere che tu pensi questo!<br />
Va accanto a Spike.<br />
Spike: Nella vita ho impar<strong>at</strong>o / Che la felicità non si compra.<br />
Maria: Mi dispiace di non averti ascolt<strong>at</strong>o / Non avevo idea di quello che stava<br />
succedendo / Ma voglio dirti che ti amo!<br />
Spike: Anch’io ti amo!<br />
Spike e Maria: Prometto che non farò altri errori!<br />
Si baciano. Maria piange.<br />
Spike [rivolto al signor Badea, e tenendo per mano Maria]:<br />
Spero che tu ti penta di quello che hai f<strong>at</strong>to!<br />
Tutto questo non è una favola!<br />
È un mondo crudele, pieno di gente c<strong>at</strong>tiva.<br />
Purtroppo tu sei uno di loro.<br />
553
Ma almeno mi sono avvic<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o a mia sorella.<br />
Dopo tutto questo tempo mi sento sollev<strong>at</strong>o<br />
E… voglio dirti un’altra cosa:<br />
I miei amici sono la mia famiglia!<br />
Devo andare adesso, addio!<br />
Chissà se ti scorderai ancora di me…<br />
Spike, Maria e Flori escono <strong>in</strong>sieme.<br />
Note<br />
1. L’ultimo anno del g<strong>in</strong>nasio (verso i qu<strong>at</strong>tordici anni); alla f<strong>in</strong>e dell’ottavo anno, gli<br />
studenti vanno generalmente al liceo.<br />
554
Tutto si paga<br />
COORDINATORI<br />
Georgeta Cristea, <strong>in</strong>segnante, Scuola n. 1, Scuola n. 2 e Scuola n. 6, Oltenit¸a;<br />
Mar<strong>in</strong>a Ruse, <strong>in</strong>segnante, Istituto professionale «Ion Ghica», Oltenit¸a<br />
Personaggi<br />
COAUTORI<br />
Paraschiv Adrian Flor<strong>in</strong>, Velicu Daniel Cristian,<br />
scuola «Spiru Haret», Oltenit¸a<br />
Daniel, studente, qu<strong>in</strong>dici anni, vive da solo, i genitori sono <strong>in</strong> Spagna per lavoro.<br />
Adrian, amico di Daniel, diciassette anni, vestito all’ultima moda.<br />
Paul, amico di Daniel, diciassette anni, vestito all’ultima moda.<br />
Andreea, amica dei tre ragazzi, sedici anni,vestita <strong>in</strong> modo provocante.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante di Inglese, quarantac<strong>in</strong>que anni, un tipo serioso.<br />
Cristian, zio di Daniel, fr<strong>at</strong>ello di sua madre, trentotto anni, operaio che lavora<br />
duramente e ha preso il diploma di recente frequentando i corsi serali.<br />
Poliziotti.<br />
L’anziana vic<strong>in</strong>a di casa, <strong>in</strong> vestaglia e coi bigod<strong>in</strong>i.<br />
L’anziano vic<strong>in</strong>o di casa, <strong>in</strong> vestaglia anche lui.<br />
SCENA I<br />
Il soggiorno di casa di Daniel, un divano, un tavol<strong>in</strong>o da salotto, una poltrona, la<br />
scrivania, lo stereo e altri oggetti e n<strong>in</strong>noli tipici di una casa modesta. Entra Daniel,<br />
portando sacchetti colmi di pane, l<strong>at</strong>te e detersivi, e com<strong>in</strong>cia a sistemare la spesa. Accende<br />
lo stereo e ascolta musica mentre raccoglie la biancheria per lavarla. Riord<strong>in</strong>a e<br />
555
pulisce <strong>in</strong> fretta la casa. Si siede alla scrivania e consulta il suo orario, poi, senza molto<br />
entusiasmo, apre i libri per studiare le m<strong>at</strong>erie <strong>in</strong> cui non ha ancora un voto. Gli<br />
squilla il cellulare.<br />
Daniel: Ciao, Adrian!<br />
Adrian: Come stai, bello? Tutto bene? È un po’ che non ti fai sentire.<br />
Daniel: Che ti devo dire? Ho avuto un po’ da fare; sai che i miei sono via…<br />
Adrian: Beh, è una fig<strong>at</strong>a, amico!<br />
Daniel: Sì e no. Dimmi, che posso fare per te?<br />
Adrian: Che stavi facendo?<br />
Daniel: Cercavo di studiare Inglese. Non ho voti perché ho f<strong>at</strong>to delle assenze e<br />
il prof non ha potuto <strong>in</strong>terrogarmi.<br />
Adrian: Ma dài, bello! Basta parlare di libri! Passo lì da te!<br />
Daniel: Quando?<br />
Adrian: Adesso! Abito dalle tue parti.<br />
Daniel [si alza e chiude i libri]: Va bene. Ti aspetto!<br />
Suona il campanello. Daniel va ad aprire. Entra Adrian, <strong>in</strong>sieme a Paul e Andreea.<br />
Adrian, Paul e Andreea: Sorpresa!<br />
Daniel: Ciao! [str<strong>in</strong>ge la mano a tutti] È una sorpresa davvero!<br />
Adrian: Abbiamo f<strong>in</strong>ito presto e avevamo voglia di divertirci un po’.<br />
Paul: E poi non ci vediamo da due settimane.<br />
Andreea: E io ero curiosa di vedere dove vivi.<br />
Daniel: Mettetevi comodi. Questa è casa mia, ma mi sembra troppo grande da<br />
quando i miei sono partiti. Non è semplice prendersi cura da soli di una casa<br />
e di se stessi, io ci sto provando. Lo zio Cristian, il fr<strong>at</strong>ello di mia madre, mi dà<br />
una mano ogni tanto.<br />
Andreea: Io mi rompo da morire a fare le faccende di casa, anche se si tr<strong>at</strong>ta solo<br />
di aiutare mia madre! Il mio sogno è avere una governante che faccia tutto!<br />
Così passerei il tempo dal parrucchiere, al centro massaggi e sopr<strong>at</strong>tutto a fare<br />
shopp<strong>in</strong>g!<br />
Paul: A casa mia fa tutto mia nonna. I miei lavorano dalla m<strong>at</strong>t<strong>in</strong>a alla sera.<br />
Daniel: Mamma e papà sono partiti perché non avevano scelta. Qui non avevano<br />
da lavorare. Trovavano solo impieghi temporanei e malpag<strong>at</strong>i. Io ho appoggi<strong>at</strong>o<br />
la loro decisione, perché così potrò avere quello che mi serve: il telefono,<br />
il computer, bei vestiti…<br />
Adrian: A me piacerebbe da m<strong>at</strong>ti stare a casa da solo, fare tutto quello che mi pare,<br />
non sentirli che mi rompono le sc<strong>at</strong>ole tutto il giorno.<br />
556
Andreea: Qualcuno ha detto qualcosa a proposito di andare a divertirsi?<br />
Paul [tira fuori una bottiglia e un pacchetto di sigarette]: Ho preso i soldi alla nonna<br />
mentre non guardava ed ecco a voi quello che serve per divertirsi!<br />
Adrian: Bravo! Ragazzo sveglio! Daniel, dei bicchieri…<br />
Daniel: Andreea, prendi i bicchieri, per favore!<br />
Andreea [mentre cerca i bicchieri]: Tu pensa alla musica!<br />
Daniel alza il volume dello stereo. Andreea mette i bicchieri sul tavolo, Paul versa da<br />
bere e ognuno dei tre ospiti si accende una sigaretta.<br />
Daniel: Non si fuma <strong>in</strong> questa casa. Se mamma se ne accorge sono morto!<br />
Adrian: Ma i tuoi non lo sanno che fumi?<br />
Daniel: Beh, veramente io non fumo. Ho preferito smettere.<br />
Paul: Che scemo che sei! Che c’è di meglio di un po’ d’alcool e una bella sigaretta?<br />
Andreea [ballando, gli offre una sigaretta]: Avanti, smettila di fare il bravo ragazzo!<br />
Prendi una sigaretta!<br />
Daniel: E va bene!<br />
Adrian gliel’accende. Br<strong>in</strong>dano.<br />
Tutti: C<strong>in</strong> c<strong>in</strong>!<br />
Adrian: Mamma mia, che buono il cognac!<br />
Daniel: Ne bevo solo un po’, perché devo tornare a scuola, almeno per l’ora di<br />
Inglese.<br />
Paul: Non pensare alla scuola, bello! Andiamo a fare un po’ di baldoria.<br />
Adrian: Vai solo all’ora di Inglese!<br />
Daniel: Avrei dovuto già essere lì! Ma la lezione di Inglese è tra due ore. Posso andarci<br />
dopo e vedere quello che riesco a fare.<br />
Andreea [ballando <strong>in</strong> maniera provocante <strong>in</strong>vita i ragazzi a unirsi a lei]: Balliamo,<br />
dài!<br />
Ballano tutti, fumano e bevono. L’<strong>at</strong>mosfera è rilass<strong>at</strong>a. Al culm<strong>in</strong>e del divertimento<br />
arriva lo zio di Daniel, <strong>in</strong>caric<strong>at</strong>o di dare un occhi<strong>at</strong>a al nipote mentre i genitori sono<br />
via. I qu<strong>at</strong>tro smettono di ballare imbarazz<strong>at</strong>i e cercano di nascondere le sigarette<br />
e i bicchieri, di scacciare il fumo con le mani.<br />
Cristian [ironico]: Non vi preoccup<strong>at</strong>e! Cont<strong>in</strong>u<strong>at</strong>e pure!<br />
Daniel spegne lo stereo, imbarazz<strong>at</strong>o per l’arrivo dello zio.<br />
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Daniel: Sai, mi stavo solo preparando per andare a scuola!<br />
Cristian: Come no. Si vede subito! A proposito! Che ore sono? Non dovevi andare<br />
a lezione a un certo punto?<br />
Daniel: Beh…<br />
Cristian [a Daniel]: Niente «beh»! [agli altri, sp<strong>in</strong>gendoli verso la porta] La festa<br />
è f<strong>in</strong>ita! Addio!<br />
Daniel: Devi sapere che sono venuti di loro <strong>in</strong>izi<strong>at</strong>iva.<br />
Cristian: E tu sei st<strong>at</strong>o così gentile da farli entrare.<br />
Daniel: Sono miei amici. Non posso avere degli amici?<br />
Cristian: Certo che puoi! Pecc<strong>at</strong>o che tu non abbia più buon gusto nella scelta!<br />
Daniel: Che vuoi dire?<br />
Cristian: Che stai facendo i miei stessi errori! È st<strong>at</strong>o anche con «l’aiuto» dei miei<br />
amici che non ho term<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o gli studi <strong>in</strong> tempo e li ho ripresi a trent’anni. Ho<br />
dovuto lavorare e studiare contemporaneamente. A stento trovavo da lavorare;<br />
dovevo accettare qualunque lavoro malpag<strong>at</strong>o. E per colpa di tutto questo ho<br />
pass<strong>at</strong>o poco tempo con la mia famiglia, con mio figlio. Credi sia st<strong>at</strong>o facile?<br />
Daniel [mentre prepara lo za<strong>in</strong>o]: Questo a me non succederà. Non farò come te.<br />
Cristian: Oggi stavi facendo es<strong>at</strong>tamente quello che facevo io vent’anni fa.<br />
Daniel: Ma è successo solo oggi! Non ho <strong>in</strong>tenzione di abbandonare la scuola<br />
per andare dietro ai miei amici!<br />
Cristian: Hai ragione. Tu non la lascerai. Ma non ti è venuto <strong>in</strong> mente che la<br />
scuola potrebbe abbandonare te?<br />
Daniel: E come può succedere?<br />
Cristian: Basta un po’ di aiuto da parte tua e dei tuoi amici! Hai mai sentito parlare<br />
di espulsione?<br />
Daniel: E perché mai dovrebbero espellermi? Solo quelli con problemi comportamentali<br />
vengono espulsi.<br />
Cristian: E quelli che fanno tante assenze!<br />
Daniel: Va bene, va bene. Andrò a scuola. E sta’ tranquillo: non ripeterò i tuoi<br />
errori.<br />
Daniel va a scuola.<br />
SCENA II<br />
A scuola, durante la ricreazione. Daniel riceve una telefon<strong>at</strong>a da Adrian.<br />
Adrian: Davvero hai <strong>in</strong>tenzione di restare a scuola? Tuo zio è partito. Siamo seri,<br />
non passerà di nuovo a casa tua!<br />
558
Daniel: Non lo so…<br />
Adrian: Dài, non fare lo stronzo, f<strong>in</strong>iamo quello che abbiamo com<strong>in</strong>ci<strong>at</strong>o!<br />
Daniel: Dove siete?<br />
Adrian: Alla pizzeria all’angolo. Ti aspettiamo. Non dire di no!<br />
Daniel: Vedrò cosa posso fare…<br />
Ri<strong>at</strong>tacca. Vede l’<strong>in</strong>segnante di Inglese <strong>in</strong> classe e gli si avvic<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Daniel [tendendosi la mascella]: Professore, per favore, mi autorizza a saltare l’ora<br />
di Inglese? Ho appuntamento dal dentista.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Oggi hai il compito, lo sai. Hai pochissimi voti!<br />
Daniel: Sì, lo so. Ma ho un problema serio. Sono due notti che non dormo.<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante: Non sembri stanco.<br />
Daniel [f<strong>in</strong>gendosi dolorante]: Le giuro che mi fa un male cane!<br />
L’<strong>in</strong>segnante [guardandolo con sospetto]: Va bene. Vai. Ma è l’ultima lezione di<br />
Inglese che salti. Devi prepararti perché sei senza voti, e dovrai fare il test.<br />
Daniel: Grazie! Le prometto che non salterò mai più le lezioni e che faro i compiti.<br />
Corre via, prende lo za<strong>in</strong>o coi libri e chiama Adrian.<br />
Daniel: Adrian, è f<strong>at</strong>ta! Sto arrivando!<br />
SCENA III<br />
A casa di Daniel. Arrivano tutti molto eccit<strong>at</strong>i e si siedono sulle poltrone e sul divano.<br />
Daniel sistema i bicchieri che vengono subito riempiti. Accendono le sigarette e<br />
br<strong>in</strong>dano.<br />
Andreea: Alza il volume!<br />
Daniel: Mi pare già abbastanza alto. I vic<strong>in</strong>i sono terribili. Due vecchi impiccioni<br />
brontoloni.<br />
Paul: Dacci un taglio, Daniel!<br />
Va ad alzare il volume della musica. La festa ha <strong>in</strong>izio, con balli, alcool e sigarette.<br />
L’anziana vic<strong>in</strong>a, esasper<strong>at</strong>a, com<strong>in</strong>cia a bussare alla porta. Insiste ma nessuno le risponde.<br />
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La vic<strong>in</strong>a: Daniel, apri! Questa musica mi fa diventar m<strong>at</strong>ta! Dammi un po’ di<br />
pace!<br />
Il vic<strong>in</strong>o [esce <strong>in</strong> corridoio, molto nervoso]: Questi giovani d’oggi! Non sanno più<br />
cosa sia il rispetto! Darò loro una lezione! Chiamo la polizia [telefona alla polizia].<br />
Salve. Per favore venite <strong>in</strong> via Stejarului, blocco A 20. C’è una festa che<br />
disturba l’<strong>in</strong>tero condom<strong>in</strong>io, un caos <strong>in</strong>fernale. Non possiamo riposare.<br />
I poliziotti arrivano alla porta e bussano con forza. I ragazzi all’<strong>in</strong>terno se ne accorgono<br />
e restano sorpresi. Daniel spegne la musica e va a vedere.<br />
Daniel: Salve! Che posso fare per voi?<br />
Poliziotto 1: Vogliamo parlare coi tuoi genitori.<br />
Daniel: Non sono <strong>in</strong> casa.<br />
Poliziotto 2: Sono l’ispettore Corneliu, della polizia. Quello che st<strong>at</strong>e facendo<br />
qui si chiama disturbo della quiete pubblica e vi costerà cento euro di multa. Il<br />
suo nome, prego!<br />
Daniel: La prego, sia comprensivo. Non era mai successo prima!<br />
Poliziotto 1: Vogliamo parlare coi suoi genitori. Come si chiama?<br />
Daniel: Sono Daniel Nicolescu. I miei genitori sono <strong>in</strong> Spagna a lavorare.<br />
Poliziotto 2: Chi si occupa di lei? Non c’è un adulto con cui possiamo metterci<br />
<strong>in</strong> cont<strong>at</strong>to?<br />
Daniel: Mio zio, Cristian Ionescu.<br />
Poliziotto 2: Qual è il suo numero di telefono?<br />
Daniel: 0599.468.320.<br />
Poliziotto 1 [chiama Cristian]: Sono l’ispettore Popescu della polizia di Bucarest.<br />
Deve venire nell’appartamento di via Stejarului dove vive suo nipote. C’è<br />
un problema.<br />
Lo zio entra <strong>in</strong> soggiorno ed è sbalordito da ciò che vede.<br />
Cristian: Che sta succedendo?<br />
Poliziotto 1: Ci hanno chiam<strong>at</strong>o dei vic<strong>in</strong>i perché il condom<strong>in</strong>io era disturb<strong>at</strong>o<br />
da musica ad alto volume proveniente da questo appartamento.<br />
Cristian: Daniel, tu dovresti essere a scuola! Che cosa è successo?<br />
Daniel lo guarda imbarazz<strong>at</strong>o e non risponde.<br />
Cristian [rivolgendosi ai tre ospiti]: E voi che ci f<strong>at</strong>e qui? Non vi ho già butt<strong>at</strong>o<br />
fuori una volta?<br />
560
Adrian, Paul, Andreea guardano <strong>in</strong> basso.<br />
Poliziotto 2: Chiameremo anche i loro genitori dalla stazione di polizia. Anche<br />
loro verranno mult<strong>at</strong>i per <strong>in</strong>citazione al disturbo della quiete pubblica. Come<br />
vi chiam<strong>at</strong>e?<br />
Scrive sul taccu<strong>in</strong>o i nomi dei tre.<br />
Cristian: Sono molto deluso dal tuo comportamento, Daniel. Hai mar<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o la<br />
scuola, mi hai mentito, sei riuscito a prendere una multa… Davvero un bel<br />
gruppo di amici, mi congr<strong>at</strong>ulo con tutti voi!<br />
I poliziotti e i ragazzi se ne vanno. Daniel rimane con Cristian, che si siede sul divano.<br />
Cristian: Che hai da dire? E che diranno i tuoi quando verranno a sapere della<br />
multa?<br />
Daniel: Mi dispiace!<br />
Cristian: Potrò fidarmi ancora di te? «Andrò a scuola. Sta’ tranquillo: non ripeterò<br />
i tuoi errori»!<br />
Daniel: Ti prego, perdonami! Mi rendo conto del cas<strong>in</strong>o che ho comb<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Mamma e papà non me la perdoneranno, e hanno ragione! Non mi manderanno<br />
più soldi.<br />
Cristian: Il problema più grosso è che tu non ti assumi le tue responsabilità. Il<br />
tuo <strong>at</strong>teggiamento verso la scuola e il futuro è completamente irresponsabile.<br />
Che cosa credi di poter fare senza un diploma?<br />
Daniel: So che ti ho deluso. Mi dispiace! Ho deluso tutti. Non posso prendermela<br />
coi miei amici, ma solo con me stesso. Ho f<strong>at</strong>to la scelta sbagli<strong>at</strong>a. Se fossi<br />
rimasto a scuola non sarebbe successo niente.<br />
Cristian: Tutto si paga. Con una multa di cento euro e anche <strong>in</strong> altri modi. Verrai<br />
a casa nostra a fare i compiti ogni giorno e ogni giorno parlerò con gli <strong>in</strong>segnanti<br />
per controllare la tua situazione scolastica. So che è spiacevole, ma<br />
non mi hai lasci<strong>at</strong>o scelta, e cont<strong>in</strong>uerò così f<strong>in</strong>ché non avrai dimostr<strong>at</strong>o di esserti<br />
assunto le tue responsabilità. A proposito, scord<strong>at</strong>i pure di andare <strong>in</strong> discoteca<br />
nel f<strong>in</strong>e settimana!<br />
Cristian esce e Daniel si siede sulla poltrona.<br />
Daniel: È proprio quello che mi merito! Almeno, adesso avrò il tempo per fare i<br />
compiti di Inglese…<br />
561
Personaggi<br />
Dest<strong>in</strong>o<br />
COORDINATORE<br />
Florent<strong>in</strong>a Necula, <strong>in</strong>segnante, Scuola n. 6, Oltenit¸a<br />
AUTORI<br />
Dumitru Cociu, Marian Salim, Scuola n. 6, Oltenit¸a<br />
Mirela, studentessa.<br />
La nonna.<br />
Il padre.<br />
Margareta, la m<strong>at</strong>rigna.<br />
La madre biologica.<br />
Nicu, Maria, i fr<strong>at</strong>ell<strong>in</strong>i di Mirela.<br />
I compagni di scuola (tra cui Bogdan).<br />
La professoressa.<br />
SCENA I<br />
In casa, Mirela fa i compiti seduta a un tavolo. In un angolo, i fr<strong>at</strong>elli più piccoli giocano<br />
con dei vecchi gioc<strong>at</strong>toli. Entra con passo malfermo la nonna, reggendo della<br />
biancheria e il ferro da stiro.<br />
Nonna: Mirela, tesoro, che stai facendo?<br />
Mirela: Faccio i compiti. Domani c’è il compito di M<strong>at</strong>em<strong>at</strong>ica e il professore ha<br />
detto che avrò un punto <strong>in</strong> più se faccio tutti i compiti. C’è un esercizio che mi<br />
562
fa impazzire. Ma, nonna, che ci fai con tutta quella biancheria… [si alza, prende<br />
la biancheria e la posa sul letto]. Lascia, li stiro io più tardi. Vai a riposare,<br />
non ti sei sentita bene negli ultimi giorni.<br />
Nonna: No. Ci penso io. Tu hai f<strong>at</strong>to già abbastanza per oggi. Hai cuc<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o, hai<br />
lav<strong>at</strong>o i piccoli, hai riord<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>o la cuc<strong>in</strong>a. Non ti preoccupare, fa’ i compiti, così<br />
il professore non si arrabbia.<br />
Mirela: E chi vuoi che ci pensi? Tu sei anziana e non stai bene. E quella scema di<br />
Margareta sta tutto il giorno a pregare. Non parliamo poi di papà…<br />
Nonna: Che deve fare? Non abbiamo soldi, fa quello che può.<br />
Mirela [torna al tavolo borbottando]: Non abbiamo soldi, non abbiamo soldi. Lo<br />
so io che ci fa lei coi soldi. Invece di occuparsi della casa, come dovrebbe. Ma è<br />
troppo pigra pers<strong>in</strong>o per star dietro ai suoi figli [si mette a scrivere].<br />
Entra il padre di Mirela, vacillando un poco con la bottiglia <strong>in</strong> mano.<br />
Padre: Che ci fai qui? [si lascia cadere su una sedia] Stai di nuovo scrivendo? [getta<br />
a terra i libri e i quaderni di Mirela e si <strong>in</strong>dica lo stomaco]. Alemanda has mimis.<br />
Portami da mangiare <strong>in</strong>vece di scrivere! Perché perdi tempo a studiare,<br />
stupida? Sarai sempre una stupida! Non mi serve che diventi una signora istruita.<br />
Devi saper cuc<strong>in</strong>are, lavare, stirare, fare bamb<strong>in</strong>i e ascoltare il tuo uomo.<br />
Mirela [mentre raccoglie libri e quaderni dal pavimento]: No, io voglio andare a<br />
scuola. E ci andrò! Non voglio diventare come tua moglie, che muore di fame.<br />
F<strong>in</strong>irò la scuola e troverò un lavoro da qualche parte. Nessuno ti assume se<br />
non hai un diploma.<br />
Nonna: Lasciala stare! Deve andare a scuola. Avrà tempo di sposarsi e fare dei figli.<br />
E spero che le capiti un uomo migliore di te. Stai tutto il giorno seduto all’osteria<br />
<strong>in</strong>vece di cercarti un lavoro.<br />
Padre [<strong>in</strong> tono m<strong>in</strong>accioso]: Sta’ zitta! [rivolto a Mirela] Forza, portami da mangiare,<br />
o ti prendo a schiaffi.<br />
SCENA II<br />
In classe. La campanella suona l’<strong>in</strong>izio delle lezioni. Tutti sono seduti al proprio banco.<br />
Mirela arriva trafel<strong>at</strong>a. Si siede al banco e com<strong>in</strong>cia a frugare nello za<strong>in</strong>o.<br />
Bogdan: Mirela, sei di nuovo <strong>in</strong> ritardo. Un altro po’ e il professore arriverà prima<br />
di te, e ti segnerà un’altra assenza.<br />
Mirela [non gli dà retta e cont<strong>in</strong>ua a cercare]: Dov’è? Dov’è?<br />
563
Una compagna: Che cosa cerchi? Libri e quaderni sono già sul banco. Ti serve una<br />
penna? Te la presto io.<br />
Mirela: No, non mi serve una penna. Non trovo il progetto di Romeno.<br />
Bogdan: Invece secondo me non l’hai f<strong>at</strong>to e vuoi farci credere che lo hai perso.<br />
Mirela [furiosa]: No, non è vero! L’ho f<strong>at</strong>to! Mi prendi per una bugiarda?<br />
Bogdan: Anche la scorsa settimana hai detto che avevi f<strong>at</strong>to i compiti e <strong>in</strong>vece<br />
non li avevi.<br />
La compagna: Bogdan, lasciala stare! Li ha f<strong>at</strong>ti i compiti, ma non è riuscita a<br />
scrivere tutti gli esercizi. Ha scritto f<strong>in</strong> dove ha potuto. Lo sai bene che ha dei<br />
problemi. E poi, il professore non si arrabbierà.<br />
Mirela [senza smettere di frugare nello za<strong>in</strong>o]: Non lo trovo. Devo averlo dimentic<strong>at</strong>o<br />
a casa. [rivolta ai compagni] Ma l’ho f<strong>at</strong>to, questo è certo.<br />
Bogdan: Sì, certo come no!<br />
Un compagno: Bogdan, perché non la lasci <strong>in</strong> pace? Non ha nessuno che le dia<br />
una mano, a differenza di te. I suoi non le hanno compr<strong>at</strong>o il computer di ultima<br />
generazione, la stampante laser, l’iPad o…<br />
Entra la professoressa di Romeno.<br />
Professoressa: Buongiorno! [si siede alla c<strong>at</strong>tedra e apre il registro] Chi manca?<br />
Gli studenti: Nessuno.<br />
Bogdan [a voce alta, ma non tanto da farsi sentire dalla professoressa]: Però Mirela<br />
è arriv<strong>at</strong>a all’ultimo momento.<br />
Alcuni compagni ridacchiano, altri lo guardano con riprovazione.<br />
Professoressa: Oggi dovete consegnarmi i progetti. Mi pare abbi<strong>at</strong>e avuto abbastanza<br />
tempo per farli.<br />
Mirela: Professoressa, io non ho il mio. Credo di averlo dimentic<strong>at</strong>o a casa. Ma<br />
l’ho f<strong>at</strong>to.<br />
Professoressa: Ne sei certa? È già capit<strong>at</strong>o che tu non abbia f<strong>at</strong>to i compiti <strong>in</strong><br />
tempo.<br />
Mirela: È vero. Ma li ho f<strong>at</strong>ti, alla f<strong>in</strong>e. E ho f<strong>at</strong>to anche il progetto. Ho anche<br />
trov<strong>at</strong>o delle immag<strong>in</strong>i. Le signore della libreria mi hanno f<strong>at</strong>to delle copie. Lo<br />
sa che di tanto <strong>in</strong> tanto do loro una mano a fare le pulizie. Invece di pagarmi,<br />
mi hanno aiut<strong>at</strong>o con il progetto. Lo porto a prossima volta. Oppure, se vuole,<br />
vado a casa adesso e lo prendo.<br />
Professoressa: Non puoi perdere la lezione. Lo porterai la prossima volta. Ma<br />
bada che non succeda di nuovo. [rivolta agli studenti] Aprite il libro a pag<strong>in</strong>a<br />
54, per favore.<br />
564
SCENA III<br />
Casa di Mirela. La nonna siede sul letto. Mirela entra eccit<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Mirela: Ciao, nonna, ho preso sei <strong>in</strong> M<strong>at</strong>em<strong>at</strong>ica! In effetti era un c<strong>in</strong>que, ma il professore<br />
ha controll<strong>at</strong>o i compiti e ha detto che mi dava… Nonna, che cos’hai?<br />
Nonna: Mi sento molto male. Non riesco nemmeno ad alzarmi dal letto. Portami<br />
un bicchiere d’acqua!<br />
Mirela [le porta l’acqua]: Da quanto tempo stai male? Non c’era nessuno con te?<br />
Non c’è nessuno <strong>in</strong> casa?<br />
Nonna: Margareta è and<strong>at</strong>a a pregare. Tuo padre mi ha vista e mi ha detto di<br />
mettermi a letto, che così mi sarei sentita meglio, poi se ne è and<strong>at</strong>o.<br />
Mirela: E i piccoli? Erano <strong>in</strong> giard<strong>in</strong>o quando sono and<strong>at</strong>a a scuola.<br />
Nonna: Forse sono and<strong>at</strong>i a giocare coi figli dei vic<strong>in</strong>i.<br />
Mirela: Nonna, ti porto <strong>in</strong> ospedale!<br />
Nonna: Lascia stare, tesoro. Me ne starò un altro po’ a letto, forse passerà da sé.<br />
Che devo fare <strong>in</strong> ospedale? Sono troppo vecchia. Se vado <strong>in</strong> ospedale, dovrai<br />
saltare la scuola per prenderti cura di me, come hai f<strong>at</strong>to l’altra volta.<br />
Mirela: Non succede niente se salto un giorno o due. L’<strong>in</strong>segnante capirà quando<br />
le dirò che dovevo stare con te <strong>in</strong> ospedale. Si arrabbia solo se salto le lezioni<br />
senza ragione. E se dovesse capitarti qualcosa, io che farò? Chi si prenderà cura<br />
di me? Mamma se ne è and<strong>at</strong>a. Papà mi venderebbe al primo venuto dicendo<br />
che devo sposarmi per il mio bene. Vuole liberarsi di me e guadagnare qualche<br />
soldo. Margareta non è <strong>in</strong> grado nemmeno di occuparsi dei suoi figli, figuriamoci<br />
di me. Tu sei mamma e papà per me, nonna. Chiamo l’ambulanza.<br />
SCENA IV<br />
In classe, durante l’<strong>in</strong>tervallo.<br />
Compagno 1: Da dove vieni?<br />
Compagno 2: La professoressa mi ha chiam<strong>at</strong>o nel suo studio. Vuole sapere che<br />
succede a Mirela. Sai che non viene a scuola da giorni… Le ho detto che non<br />
ne so niente. Non mi ha detto niente. Le sarà successo qualcosa? Tu che cosa<br />
sai su di lei?<br />
Compagno 1: Non ne so nulla. Forse si è stuf<strong>at</strong>a della scuola e ha deciso di non<br />
venire più. O forse i suoi l’hanno f<strong>at</strong>ta sposare. Lo sai che nella loro comunità<br />
è normale, far sposare le figlie <strong>in</strong> cambio di soldi.<br />
565
Compagno 2: Sì, è vero, ma non credo sia il suo caso. Lo sai com’è Mirela. Non<br />
lascerà che suo padre la venda così.<br />
Compagno 1: O forse ha deciso f<strong>in</strong>almente di andare da sua madre. La sua vera<br />
madre. Ho sentito che non abita lontano.<br />
Compagno 2: Andare da lei dopo che l’ha abbandon<strong>at</strong>a? Non credo. E <strong>in</strong>oltre lei<br />
ci tiene molto a venire a scuola.<br />
Compagno 1: Non sta andando molto bene. Lo scorso semestre è st<strong>at</strong>a quasi<br />
bocci<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> M<strong>at</strong>em<strong>at</strong>ica.<br />
Compagno 2: Smettila di paragonare la situazione di Mirela alla tua. Certo che<br />
non può prendere tutti nove o dieci. Si sforza di fare i compiti, per quanto<br />
può; fa anche i progetti. È riuscita a prendere sei <strong>in</strong> M<strong>at</strong>em<strong>at</strong>ica. È importante<br />
che venga a scuola. Quante ragazze della sua età, nella sua comunità, vengono<br />
ancora a lezione?<br />
Compagno 1: Hai ragione. Ma se non l’aveste aiut<strong>at</strong>a tu e Maria e i professori,<br />
non avrebbe pass<strong>at</strong>o l’anno. E guarda adesso: non viene più.<br />
Compagno 2: Deve essere successo qualcosa. [entra Mirela e si siede, stanca, al<br />
suo banco] Mirela! Come stai? Che cosa è successo? Sei manc<strong>at</strong>a così a lungo!<br />
Compagno 1: Credevano fossi stufa della scuola e che non saresti più venuta.<br />
Mirela: Sono st<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> ospedale con mia nonna per tre giorni. È st<strong>at</strong>a molto male.<br />
Compagno 2 [rivolto al primo]: Te lo dicevo. [rivolto a Mirela] E come sta adesso?<br />
Si sente meglio?<br />
Mirela: Sì. È uscita dall’ospedale. Ma non sono potuta tornare subito a scuola<br />
perché ho dovuto lavorare. Servivano soldi per le medic<strong>in</strong>e. E quello che ho<br />
trov<strong>at</strong>o a casa…<br />
Compagno 2: Parla con la professoressa! Dille quello che è successo! La gente<br />
pensa che tu non abbia più voglia di venire a scuola.<br />
Mirela: Sì. Ci vado subito.<br />
SCENA V<br />
Casa di Mirela. La nonna cuc<strong>in</strong>a. Entra la madre biologica di Mirela.<br />
Nonna [sorpresa]: E tu che ci fai qui?<br />
Madre: Sono venuta a trovare mia figlia.<br />
Nonna: Bugiarda! Se fossi st<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong>teress<strong>at</strong>a a tua figlia, saresti venuta tanto tempo<br />
fa. Come hai potuto abbandonarla così?<br />
Madre: Non sono affari tuoi.<br />
Nonna: Mirela non è più tua figlia, è la mia bamb<strong>in</strong>a. Io mi sono presa cura di lei<br />
e lei mi aiuta. Non ti permetterò di portarmela via, sappilo.<br />
566
Entra Mirela con una cesta piena di biancheria asciutta.<br />
Mirela: Nonna, abbiamo ospiti?<br />
Madre: Che bellissima bamb<strong>in</strong>a sei divent<strong>at</strong>a! E come sei brava! Mirela, sono tua<br />
madre!<br />
Mirela: Davvero? E dove sei st<strong>at</strong>a tutto questo tempo? Mi hai abbandon<strong>at</strong>a?<br />
Madre: Non ti ho abbandon<strong>at</strong>a. È solo che non sopportavo più di vivere con tuo<br />
padre. Adesso le cose vanno bene. Ascolta, sono venuta a prenderti per portarti<br />
a casa.<br />
Mirela: Ma io ce l’ho già una casa. Ho la nonna. Tu mi hai lasci<strong>at</strong>a.<br />
Madre: Io non ti ho lasci<strong>at</strong>a. Sono venuta a prenderti per portarti a casa mia, dove<br />
starai meglio. Che ci fai <strong>in</strong> questa baracca? Lavi, stiri e cuc<strong>in</strong>i? Guarda come<br />
sei vestita!<br />
Nonna: No, no! Lascia <strong>in</strong> pace la bamb<strong>in</strong>a! Non va da nessuna parte con te, mi<br />
hai sentito? Da nessuna parte. La mia bamb<strong>in</strong>a resta qui.<br />
Madre: Mirela, vieni dalla mamma. Ti comprerò dei bei vestiti, di quelli firm<strong>at</strong>i.<br />
Ti porterò dal parrucchiere. Non dovrai più fare le faccende, né prenderti<br />
cura di nessuno.<br />
Mirela [riflettendo]: E la scuola? Io voglio f<strong>in</strong>ire di studiare e trovare un lavoro.<br />
Madre: Non ti serve nemmeno un lavoro. Avrai tutto ciò che vorrai. E per quando<br />
riguarda la scuola, puoi andarci se vuoi, ma non <strong>in</strong> questa!<br />
Nonna: Mirela, sta mentendo! Vuole farti sposare <strong>in</strong> cambio di denaro. Non crederle!<br />
Madre: Non è vero. Voglio tenerti con me. Siamo st<strong>at</strong>e separ<strong>at</strong>e troppo tempo.<br />
Avrai tutto quello che desideri!<br />
Nonna: Mirela, non andare! Non lasciarmi! Che farò senza di te?<br />
Mirela [riflettendo]: Nonna, io non ti lascerò! Però mi piacerebbe avere bei vestiti<br />
e non dover più fare le faccende. Voglio vedere come si vive <strong>in</strong> una casa grande.<br />
Nonna, io vado, ma verrò a trovarti spesso. Mamma, prometti che d’ora <strong>in</strong><br />
poi verremo ad aiutare la nonna? Se me lo prometti, vengo con te. Me lo prometti?<br />
Madre: Ma certo, figlia mia. Guarda, le do un po’ di soldi per comprarsi da mangiare.<br />
Nonna: Mirela, ti si spezzerà il cuore. Non andare!<br />
Mirela: Coraggio, nonna. Non pensare sempre al peggio. Verrò a trovarti molto<br />
spesso.<br />
Bacia la nonna ed esce con sua madre.<br />
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SCENA VI<br />
Una stanza nuova e sconosciuta. Mirela siede a un tavolo e scrive una lettera.<br />
Mirela: «Cara Mamma, quando leggerai questa lettera spero che tu ti senta come<br />
mi sento io ora. Mi sono fid<strong>at</strong>a di te. Mi vedevo già nella tua casa, con bei vestiti<br />
addosso, con del buon cibo a tavola, senza preoccupazioni, circond<strong>at</strong>a da<br />
tutto l’amore che mi hai promesso. E tu cos’hai f<strong>at</strong>to? Mi hai venduta per mille<br />
euro! Dopo avermi abbandon<strong>at</strong>a appena n<strong>at</strong>a <strong>in</strong> ospedale, mi hai lasci<strong>at</strong>a col<br />
primo che ti ha offerto del denaro. E per che cosa? Lavare, stirare, pulire e cuc<strong>in</strong>are<br />
per uno che non è mai soddisf<strong>at</strong>to. Almeno, quando ero a casa, queste<br />
cose le facevo per la mia famiglia, non per degli estranei. Non avrei dovuto darti<br />
ascolto. Avrei dovuto sapere che dicevi un sacco di bugie. Avrei dovuto sapere<br />
che non eri capace di prenderti cura di me. Che ti importa se non mi permettono<br />
di vedere la nonna? Che te ne importa se mi riempiono di baston<strong>at</strong>e, se solo<br />
mi azzardo a dire quello che penso? Che te ne importa se non mi fanno andare<br />
a scuola? E perché dovrebbe importarti? Adesso hai i soldi. Per averli hai distrutto<br />
la mia vita, ma questo per te non conta. Sei felice adesso? Mirela».<br />
568
Acknoledgements<br />
Special thanks to all local, regional and n<strong>at</strong>ional organiz<strong>at</strong>ions for hav<strong>in</strong>g cooper<strong>at</strong>ed<br />
with the partnership <strong>in</strong> realiz<strong>in</strong>g the Writ<strong>in</strong>g The<strong>at</strong>re tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g Labs:<br />
ITALY<br />
APOFIL Melfi<br />
APOFIL Potenza<br />
APOFIL Rionero <strong>in</strong> Vulture<br />
APOFIL Venosa<br />
ASL RMB Roma<br />
Associazione Culturale Giovanile «Offic<strong>in</strong>a 2.0» Roma<br />
Associazione Culturale SAGAPÒ TEATRO<br />
Associazione DONNE NISSÀ<br />
Associazione GEA<br />
Cooper<strong>at</strong>iva ARIANNA<br />
Fondazione Protettor<strong>at</strong>o San Giuseppe Roma – Casa famiglia «Il giard<strong>in</strong>o di<br />
pace»<br />
Rete dei diritti dei senza voce<br />
Sprachen Zentrum – Prov<strong>in</strong>cia Autonoma di Bolzano<br />
569
570<br />
GREECE<br />
IASIS Day Center<br />
IASIS Sheltered House<br />
NOSTOS Organiz<strong>at</strong>ion for Social Integr<strong>at</strong>ion<br />
MOSAIK – KETHEA Transcultural rehabilit<strong>at</strong>ion Centre for drug-addicted people<br />
SOCIAL SERVICES of Peristerion Municipality<br />
Greek Juvenile Prob<strong>at</strong>ion Office<br />
ROMANIA<br />
Oltenita, Calarasi Department: School No.6, «Spiru Haret» School, «Nicolae<br />
Balcescu» High <strong>school</strong>, CJRAE Calarasi, «Ion Ghica» high<strong>school</strong>.<br />
Bucharest:<br />
«Octav Onicescu» N<strong>at</strong>ional College – 9th grade – IX E and 10th grade – X D<br />
Centrul S<strong>in</strong>tagma – S<strong>in</strong>tagma Centre for Educ<strong>at</strong>ion and Tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g<br />
«No Abuse» Associ<strong>at</strong>ion
Indice<br />
Prefazione 5<br />
Preface 10<br />
Introduzione 7<br />
Introduction 12<br />
Italia<br />
Dest<strong>in</strong>i e dest<strong>in</strong>azioni 17<br />
Dest<strong>in</strong>y and dest<strong>in</strong><strong>at</strong>ions 101<br />
Come un fantasma 39<br />
Like a ghost 123<br />
Cuore <strong>in</strong> vacanza s’<strong>in</strong>namora 44<br />
A heart on holiday falls <strong>in</strong> love 128<br />
Mi chiamo Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra 56<br />
My name is Kleop<strong>at</strong>ra 140
Partita di calcio 62<br />
A game of football 146<br />
Tutti contro uno 76<br />
All aga<strong>in</strong>st one 162<br />
Notte prima… della prima 81<br />
The night prior to… the première 167<br />
C’era una volta… 97<br />
Cenerentola a Tor Bella Monaca 97<br />
Cenerentola a C<strong>in</strong>ecittà 2 99<br />
Once upon a time… 184<br />
C<strong>in</strong>derella <strong>at</strong> Tor Bella Monaca 184<br />
C<strong>in</strong>derella <strong>at</strong> C<strong>in</strong>ecittà 2 186<br />
Grecia<br />
Eisagwgh´ 191<br />
Introduction 237<br />
Introduzione 279<br />
To Déntro thw Zwh´w 193<br />
The Tree of Life 239<br />
L’Albero della Vita 281<br />
O Púrgow 195<br />
The castle 241<br />
Il castello 283<br />
An 197<br />
If 243<br />
Se 285<br />
To gkrémisma tou toícou 198<br />
The destruction of the wall – Monologue 244<br />
La distruzione del muro – Monologo 286
H asunh´qisth istoría miaw koutálaw 200<br />
The unusual spoon story 246<br />
La strana storia di un cucchiaio 288<br />
H anazh´thsh thw elpídaw 207<br />
Search<strong>in</strong>g for hope 251<br />
Verso la speranza… 293<br />
Ta paicnídia thw zwh´w 210<br />
The game of life 253<br />
Il gioco della vita 295<br />
O Buqów 214<br />
The bottom of the sea 257<br />
In fondo al mare 299<br />
Youth rap song 1 216<br />
Youth rap song 1 259<br />
Rap giovane n. 1 301<br />
Youth rap song 2 217<br />
Youth rap song 2 260<br />
Rap giovane n. 2 302<br />
Qew na kánoume paréa… peíse me…! 218<br />
If you want to keep company with me you must conv<strong>in</strong>ce me 261<br />
Conv<strong>in</strong>cimi 303<br />
Kalolaíri 222<br />
Summer 265<br />
Est<strong>at</strong>e 307<br />
To peristéri 223<br />
The pigeon 266<br />
Il piccione 308<br />
O h´liow blépei thleórash 224<br />
The sun is w<strong>at</strong>ch<strong>in</strong>g tv 267<br />
Il sole guarda la tv 309
Ta 4 sunaisqh´m<strong>at</strong>a páne ekdromh<br />
(cará, lúph, eutucía kai jóbow) 225<br />
Four emotions go for a trip (Joy, Happ<strong>in</strong>ess, Sadness and Fear) 268<br />
Qu<strong>at</strong>tro emozioni <strong>in</strong> viaggio (Gioia, Felicità, Tristezza e Paura) 310<br />
Taxídi sto óneiro 227<br />
Dream journey – Rap song 270<br />
Viaggio onirico – canzone rap 312<br />
Guál<strong>in</strong>a jtera 229<br />
W<strong>in</strong>gs made of glass 272<br />
Ali di vetro 314<br />
Oi peripéteiew sthn Australía 232<br />
Adventures <strong>in</strong> Australia 274<br />
Avventure australiane 316<br />
H megálh apójash 234<br />
The big decision 276<br />
Una decisione importante 318<br />
Romania<br />
Introducere 323<br />
Introduction 403<br />
Introduzione 486<br />
Suntem ceea ce vrem noi sa fim 324<br />
We are wh<strong>at</strong> we decide to be 404<br />
Siamo ciò che decidiamo di essere 487<br />
Poveste rece… 331<br />
A cold story… 412<br />
Una storia fredda 495<br />
Abandonul s¸colar s¸i tragedia unui bai<strong>at</strong> de 13 ani 334<br />
School abandon and the tragedy of a 13 year-old boy 415<br />
Abbandono scolastico. La tragedia di un tredicenne 498
Fr<strong>at</strong>¸ii 338<br />
The brothers 419<br />
Fr<strong>at</strong>elli 502<br />
Sticle goale 345<br />
Empty bottles 426<br />
Bottiglie vuote 509<br />
Schit¸a în grafitti 362<br />
Grafitti sketch 443<br />
Graffiti sketch 526<br />
Abandonul s¸colar al unei fete de 12 ani s¸i povestea familiei sale 366<br />
School abandon of a 12 year-old girl and the story of her family 448<br />
Abbandono scolastico. Storia di una dodicenne e della sua famiglia 531<br />
Aceasta nu este o poveste 378<br />
This is not a fairytale 461<br />
Questa non è una favola 544<br />
Totul se pl<strong>at</strong>es¸te 389<br />
Everyth<strong>in</strong>g is paid for 472<br />
Tutto si paga 555<br />
Dest<strong>in</strong> 396<br />
Dest<strong>in</strong>y 479<br />
Dest<strong>in</strong>o 562<br />
Acknoledgements 569
Stampa<br />
Plus Group Srl – Guidonia (Rm)<br />
per conto di Elliot Edizioni Srl