Yanagai! Yanagai! Read online

  I knew I’d catch ya. Sooner or later. Later, rather than sooner. Now I see you. All silver and green and smelly. You look to be three hundred year old. My dad said if you split open the guts of a fish you can see its entire life journey mapped out. All the creeks and rivers the fish has swum. You see it all like a tree. That’s your birth tree. Where the fish was born and where it will die. That’s what my dad said. I see you now, Harold. Your time is up, old fulla. So is mine.

  He looks into the face of the fish once more. He hears death calling. He unhooks the fish and lets it go.

  Now go on, Harold! Get away from this fishing hole. You’re too old to eat now. Go on!

  He throws a stick into the water, exhausted, and watches the fish float away. The wind changes its tune and MAE’s voice leads him slowly into the darkness of the bush.

  MAE: [whispering] Albert! Albert!

  UNCLE: Mae?

  He walks further, trying to find the source of the voice.

  MAE: Albert!

  UNCLE: Is that you, Mae?

  MAE: Where are you, Albert?

  UNCLE: I’m here, Mae.

  He sees the spirits of MAE and LITTLE ALBERT huddled together.

  Mae.

  MAE: Are we lost, Albert?

  LITTLE ALBERT & UNCLE: [together] Yeah, I think we are, Mae.

  MAE: Oooh, Albert.

  UNCLE crouches to comfort MAE and LITTLE ALBERT.

  UNCLE & LITTLE ALBERT: [together] It’s okay, Mae. Remember when we went up the river that day? Up at our favourite tree. ‘Grelba’ we called him. Remember?

  A tree illuminates, inviting him.

  UNCLE: Nope. Not that one.

  As UNCLE tells the story, he looks for his tree.

  UNCLE & LITTLE ALBERT: [together] And we played and played and played there for hours.

  UNCLE: Hanging off branches. Dangling our feet in the river, playing with the current. We played mudsticks that day, remember? [Still looking for his tree] Nah. Not that one… And then it got dark. Too dark and we was miiiiiles from home. We’d been told about that little Hairy Bekka, ay? We didn’t know which way to go so we took off from the river, through the bush and over to the plains. And we’re walking real slow and quiet so that Hairy Bekka don’t catch us.

  MAE begins to cry.

  MAE: Albert, I’m scared.

  LITTLE ALBERT & UNCLE: [together] Sshhhh, Mae, sshhhh. Hairy Bekka come get us.

  MAE: That Bekka! She’s real hairy. She’s gonna take us away on her back and throw her tit over her shoulder to us.

  LITTLE ALBERT & UNCLE: [together] Sshhhh, Mae!

  LITTLE ALBERT puts his hand over MAE’s mouth. He gently sits her on the ground and, rocking her, sings ‘Inanay’. Finally, UNCLE comes to the base of his tree.

  UNCLE: The wind is picking up and it’s getting real dark …

  The min min lights shine on his face.

  And then we see these lights… waaaaaayyyy off in the distance.

  His mother’s spirit appears.

  MAE: It’s Mum, it’s Mum, she’s put a lantern in the tree.

  UNCLE: Alinta! Those lights they were swaying from side to side. We walked straight towards that light and we were so happy, ’cause we thought we weren’t gonna see our mum and dad ever again! And when we got home we copped the biggest hiding! No dinner! We were starving! And…

  Becoming weaker now, he sits at the base of his tree.

  When it was safe to talk again, I said to Mum…

  LITTLE ALBERT: Hey, Mum… we saw the lantern in the tree…

  LITTLE ALBERT & MAE: [together] From way out there.

  UNCLE: And she said, ‘What lantern? What are you talking about? You’re lucky that Bekka didn’t catch you!’ It was the min min lights that showed us the way home.

  Pause.

  LITTLE ALBERT & MAE: [together] Gukai!

  UNCLE: They showed us the way home.

  The lights shine brighter now. UNCLE stares into them. He lays down and prepares for his death.

  MAE: Cummeragunja.

  LITTLE ALBERT: … Home.

  A curlew sounds.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  SCENE TWENTY-TWO: A MATTER OF SECONDS

  Darkness. Thunder. The large ticking of a clock which ends abruptly.

  The TELLERS enter.

  TELLER 3: Nineteen seconds.

  Pause for nineteen seconds.

  TELLER 2: In nineteen seconds I can open an envelope, look at its contents, know that it’s junk mail and throw it out.

  TELLER 1: In nineteen seconds I can turn the television on, channel surf five stations until I find the show I like.

  The TELLERS begin to overlap each other.

  TELLER 3: I can light a cigarette, put the smoke in my lungs and put it out again.

  TELLER 2: I can make a telephone call and find out no-one is home.

  TELLER 3: I can read and digest the Woman’s Day from cover to cover.

  TELLER 1: I can put milk in my tea and stir it.

  TELLER 2: I can track down and swat three flies.

  TELLER 3: I can put the cat out.

  TELLER 1: In nineteen seconds I can recite a nursery rhyme.

  ALL: [together, singing]

  Baa baa black sheep,

  Have you any wool?

  Yes sir, yes sir,

  Three bags full:

  One for the master and…

  The nursery rhyme is broken by three loud knocks.

  QC: All rise!

  The QC enters and mumbles the judgement incoherently.

  The court determines that native title does not exist in relation to the areas of land and waters identified to Schedule D to Native Title Determination Application FVN 94/1 accepted by the Native Title Registrar on 26 May 1994.

  He bangs his hammer again and leaves.

  TELLER 1: Nineteen seconds.

  TELLER 2: Nineteen seconds.

  TELLER 3: Nineteen seconds.

  ALL: [together] Nineteen seconds.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  SCENE TWENTY-THREE: FROZEN IN COMBAT

  In dim darkness, CURR begins to chuckle. The smug laughter of victory. Ongoing and relentless to the TELLERS’ ears. Electricity fills the air. A storm is threatening as the land rises up in opposition. In full war regalia, MUNARRA and the DINGOES pick up their weapons. MUNARRA lets out a defiant war cry and the land follows suit, billowing up the storm. CURR’s chuckling is incessant.

  The storm rages and furiously peaks. Redgums sway violently, their branches groaning precariously as MUNARRA and the DINGOES approach CURR—his victorious laughter cutting through them like a knife. They inch forward with revenge as CURR stands, fumbling for his gun. MUNARRA screams to rid the land of this curse and lunges forward with her digging stick. At the point of contact…

  The world freezes…

  An in-breath.

  MUNARRA and CURR.

  Frozen in combat.

  A statue of ANZAC proportions.

  Weapons raised, we see the whites of MUNARRA’s eyes.

  CURR is petrified.

  The land is restless.

  The lights fade.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  SCENE TWENTY-FOUR: JUDGEMENT DAY

  It is late at night at Uncle’s camp. The fire is almost out.

  LYALL enters, looking for UNCLE.

  LYALL: Uncle! Uncle! Are you there? [Pause.] Damn! Where are you?

  He checks UNCLE’s lines and sees they haven’t been baited.

  Uncle?

  Realising UNCLE is not at the camp, LYALL sits down by the fire and practises talking to him.

  Uncle, I came here as soon as I could. [Pause.] I just wanted to… Nah! [Pause.] Um… Uncle, they finished court today. I just wanted to let you know that… we… Shit! [Pause.] Uncle, they finished at the court today. Auntie Lou was there and a lot of the old ones. We loaded up the bus this morning. Brought our flag with us. I was real nervous all the way up. Couldn’t even eat. ‘Judgement Day’: that’s what Au
ntie Lola called it. But I called it ‘A Day of Hope’, ay? [Pause.] Uncle… we lost. ‘Tide of history’ they called it. [Pause.] I’m sorry I made you go to that court. [Pause.] What’s gonna happen, Uncle?

  He gets up and looks around one last time. He stokes the fire and leaves.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  SCENE TWENTY-FIVE: THANK YOU, BUT…

  MUNARRA stands alone, surrounded by a cluster of tree stumps. She holds her blood-soaked digging stick. CURR is seated on his chair. A foul wind blows.

  A group of MEN appear behind MUNARRA. They are wearing Driza-Bones and hats and carry shovels. They each begin to dig a hole in the earth.

  MUNARRA: I see you! [Pause.] I can see you there! [Pause.] I see! Are you happy with what has become of this place?

  The MEN do not respond and continue to shovel to a beat.

  Come closer.

  The shovelling stops. They look at her.

  Come closer.

  They do not move.

  Come closer.

  They begin to shovel again, maintaining their hypnotic beat.

  Yes. I can smell you. I remember that smell. What happened here?

  The MEN stop for one beat. And then continue.

  What happened when time arrived at this place?

  They shovel faster.

  I see! You are driving us to distraction. Leading us to despair. You have taken. And now you give us death! Untimely death to relieve us from what you have made. Are you waiting for my death? Are you?

  The shovelling continues.

  You’re digging my grave!

  The MEN shovel even faster.

  You may dig my grave! [Pause.] But as long as this river flows, the lake fills and floods, the redgums sway and grow—we are here. For as long as the eagle flies and the long-neck turtle swims—we are here. Like every grain of sand on our river’s shores—we are here. Like the line that connects me to my traditions—we are here. Like every leaf on every branch on every tree on this land—we are here. We are here! We are here!

  The MEN stop shovelling and fade out of existence. They shed their Driza-Bones and join MUNARRA in a line of defiance. A war stance.

  And I am not your judgement.

  I am not your ‘Exhibit A’.

  I am not your servant.

  I am Yorta Yorta.

  We are Yorta Yorta.

  And…

  WE… ARE… HERE.

  They close their eyes. A reflection of the opening of the play—remembering and acknowledging Yorta Yorta land and people. A montage of images fills the space, emerging out of the land and onto the TELLERS. Yorta Yorta people past and present. The next generation. The sound of a group of elders singing the song ‘Bura Fera’ echoes out in celebration of the endurance of Yorta Yorta survival and spirit.

  Finally, one last image remains. It states:

  This is an important

  ABORIGINAL SITE.

  It is an offence to

  enter, deface, damage or

  otherwise interfere with

  this site.

  Penalty:

  1. Up to $10,000 or 5 years jail or both.

  2. If the person is a body corporate, $50,000.

  Signed:

  CNR Area Manager Yorta Yorta Clans Group

  Fade to black.

  THE END

  COPYRIGHT DETAILS

  First published in 2003

  by Currency Press Pty Ltd,

  PO Box 2287, Strawberry Hills, NSW, 2012, Australia

  [email protected]

  www.currency.com.au

  in association with Playbox Theatre, Melbourne

  This revised edition first published in 2016.

  First digital edition published in 2016 by Currency Press.

  Copyright: Introduction © Wayne Atkinson, 2016; Yanagai! Yanagai! © Andrea James, 2003, 2016.

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  email: [email protected]

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  ePub ISBN: 9781760620349

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