Emma and the Newhounds

For the Tarragon Spring Arts Fair, coming up this weekend. Directed by Ruth Madoc-Jones. Featuring Nola Auguston and Anna Gallagher Ross. Here's the text of the play, in full:

Characters: Pam – suspended head of the city’s Municipal & Licensing Standards Department; Emma – her 12-year-old daughter.

(An office in City Hall with a window overlooking the public square. PAM is by the window, positioning herself so that she will not be seen from the outside. The room is dark. She’s looking at a pigeon on the sill.)

Pam:
Oh for your fate, mister pigeon-on-the-sill,
Heaven hath given you some solace for your woe;
Clothed you in feathers, let you soar above the fray,
No thought in yr head about tomorrow today.
But for me Death is edged the double-biting sword,
Of the local newspaper’s John Barber, Christie Blatchford.

(There is a knock at the door. Pam ducks beneath the desk. Pause. Another knock.)

Emma:
(through the door) Mum? Are you in there?

(Pam rushes quietly to the door, yanks it quietly open, pulls Emma in with a finger to her lips, hurls the door quietly closed and then listens to hear if there is any commotion outside.)

Emma:
Mum?

Pam:
Shhhh.

Emma:
What’s going on?

Pam:
(still listening) Shh.

Emma:
It sure is dark in here. Have you got a migraine?

Pam:
No.

Emma:
Is there a blackout?

Pam:
N– Was there a blackout in the hall?

Emma:
No.

Pam:
Don’t ask stupid questions Emma.

Emma:
Right... Oh! Is this PMS?

Pam:
No!

Emma:
Is that what it gets to be like?

Pam:
No! Well yes, but no.

Emma:
Okay.

Pam:
(to herself) Woe for my city, woe for my city’s fall. All my blood is shed in vain and my love is lost.

Emma:
Are you okay? Is someone after you?

Pam:
Yeah I think so.

Emma:
Who?

Pam:
Bikers.

Emma:
Oh.

Pam:
Maybe. I mean maybe not but maybe. Maybe just dirty bureaucrats, but it could be bikers, it could go so far as bikers.

Emma:
They wouldn’t let bikers in city hall.

Pam:
Yes they would.

Emma:
Why?

Pam:
Because it’s city hall! It’s the hall of the city! The city includes bikers! And you can’t judge a person by the clothes he wears, Emma. You should know that.

Emma:
Right.

Pam:
And besides, these bikers have suits.

Emma:
They do?

Pam:
Some of them. They have suits. Things are not always as they appear.

Emma:
Clearly...

Pam:
Anyway, it might just be in their best interests to get me today. I mean I don’t think they will; that’s just crazy.

Emma:
Then what’s with the darkness and the hiding?

Pam:
I’m not supposed to be here.

Emma:
You’re not?

Pam:
I was suspended with pay five days ago.

Emma:
Really?

Pam:
Yeah. It’s a long story.

Emma:
You didn’t tell me?

Pam:
Sorry. I don’t have time to be sorry. Sorry.

Emma:
That’s okay. Lucky it’s with pay.

Pam:
Yeah.

Emma:
It’s like over a hundred grand isn’t it?

Pam:
A hundred and forty.

Emma:
That’s pretty cool mum.

Pam:
Well, it’ll soon be gone. Unless– Oh! It wrings a mother’s heart when she’s worked so hard for her children but is willing to commit them into the hands of strangers.

Emma:
What strangers?

Pam:
John Barber. Christie Blatchford. Those strangers.

Emma:
Reporters?

Pam:
I’m giving a press conference.

Emma:
When?

Pam:
Eleven o’clock.

Emma:
That’s in like ten minutes!

Pam:
I know.

Emma:
What’s it about?

Pam:
The bikers! And– something else. Emma, I need you to be there with me.

Emma:
At the press conference? That’s so embarrassing!

Pam:
I know, but look at you. You’re so sweet, so beautiful. Isn’t that your special sweater?

Emma:
I had an intuition.

Pam:
You’re my brilliant one. I widh I had half your insight.

Emma:
I so hate Mondays.

Pam:
You got out of school.

Emma:
But how are you what are you why is it what is it –

Pam:
Think about what you’re going to say darling and then just say it.

Emma:
What is this about?

Pam:
I suspended a couple of supervisors who work in my office, and they’ve managed to retaliate by hitting me where I live. Anonymously. Oh, there is no just discernment in the eyes of men!

Emma:
What?

Pam:
They’re in collusion – I think – with outlaw bikers and taxi drivers who are taking over the power structure of this city and I have to do something to keep the ball in the air even as they immolate me.

Emma:
Where are you getting this?

Pam:
Complaints. Tips. Kidnappings in cabs. And now good people – innocent people – have entrusted me, a deeply flawed human being, with information, and I can’t let my own flaws obscure the job that has to be done to – protect them and ensure that they have not spoke up in vain.

Emma:
Oh god mum, you’re going to throw me to the wolves.

Pam:
I know honey, but it’s for a good cause.

Emma:
I’m not getting the cause.

Pam:
And anyway they’re more properly called ‘hounds’. Newshounds, really, not wolves–

Emma:
Mum, what’s the cause?


Pam:
The bikers! And the drivers! Chop-shop workers! Intimidators! And I’m sure people are going to die, honey, if I don’t – I feel it in my heart. Like that little girl who got cursed with the ability to see the future but also the certain knowledge that she would never be believed. She would never be believed!


Emma:
This is just exactly the sort of reason why we should’ve had a father.

Pam:
Well, I tried that.

Emma:
A father would tell you you’re crazy to include me.

Pam:
Emma...

Emma:
Or, even better, it would be the father that was doing this to me – some cad – and you’d be a normal mother who would throw herself in front of the man to protect her children.

Pam:
It’s not that bad.

Emma:
Yes it is!

Pam:
And for your information, I tried to bring home a man; lord knows I tried; I – groomed him; I raised him up in the department; and that’s why they’re coming to slaughter me.

Emma:
What do you mean?

Pam:
Oh, Emma, I had a “soul mate.”

Emma:
Oh no! He’s gone?

Pam:
Well, we’ve both been suspended.

Emma:
Why?

Pam:
Oh; I hired him. I gave him a raise. I asked him who his friends were and asked if any of them needed jobs, since he was so smart and talented he must have had smart and talented friends. I was crazy with love! I told you, I’m a deeply flawed–

Emma:
Wow.

Pam:
And now I’m not allowed to see him.

Emma:
Mum, that’s terrible. It’s like Romeo and Juliet.

Pam:
He’s married, with children.

Emma:
Oh. So?

Pam:
You’re sweet. My heart is broken.

Emma:
No wonder you’re sitting here in the dark fantasizing about bikers.

Pam:
It’s not a fantasy!

Emma:
But like why didn’t you say something? Are you going to talk about this? Like, at the press conference?

Pam:
Well, I feel... I feel... it’s the only way I can get a message to him. Oh, the agenda is being so totally hijacked!

Emma:
Oh mum.

Pam:
I was just planning to say whatever came into my head.

Emma:
Mum.

Pam:
Doesn’t matter, really. I just need to keep the bigger issue alive.

Emma:
I still don’t understand the bigger issue.

Pam:
Neither do I honey. Not really.

Emma:
I understand the guy.

Pam:
I understand him too. The guy.

Emma:
So I’ll go with you.

Pam:
Who will escort me hence, before my hair is torn?

Emma:
I will go with thee.

Pam:
And so I say not no to death.

Emma:
Are you ready then? It’s almost eleven.

Pam:
We should see if the coast is clear.

Emma:
(opening the door a crack, shutting it quietly, quickly)
There’s a man outside.

Pam:
What does he look like?

Emma:
He – um – I dunno – he – a suit – blue. Tie. Um.

Pam:
Is it a biker?

(they laugh hysterically. Pam goes and opens the door, shuts it, quickly.)

Pam:
That’s my lawyer.

Emma:
Oh.
(They laugh some more.)
Oh good. Is he coming with us?

Pam:
Yes.

Emma:
Can’t it just be you and me?

Pam:
Is that what you want, darling?

Emma:
Yeah.

Pam:
Okay, it’ll just be you and me. We’ll put him several paces back.


Emma:
And I’ll hold your arm. Like this. Both hands.

Pam:
Okay.

Emma:
Okay.

Pam:
Okay let’s go.

Emma:
Let’s go.

(They go. End of Play.)