Brothers Wreck Read online

  Outside the Beach Front Hotel.

  RUBEN is smashed, drunk off his head. He holds a can of Southern Comfort in his hands. JARROD is with him, on his phone. He’s trying to make a call.

  RUBEN: [yelling across the road] Let’s find out then, ay!… Call the pigs! … I don’t care, idiot, call ’em!… Do it, call ’em! I’ll crack you all!

  JARROD: Shut up.

  RUBEN stops yelling.

  RUBEN: I’m not scared. That bouncer’s an idiot. [Beat. Yelling again] Hear that, mung bean? You’re an idiot!… Bring it, cheese boy!

  JARROD: Shut up, Rue!

  His call isn’t going through. He keeps trying. RUBEN has a massive smile on his face, he is in his element.

  RUBEN: Piece of… Ay, look! A break in the rain!

  JARROD: Oi, sit down, before they call the cops for real.

  JARROD tries to call again.

  RUBEN: Let ’em come.

  JARROD: So much for takin it easy.

  RUBEN: I’ll fight ’em, crack ’em all.

  He searches around for a smoke, notices JARROD on the phone.

  Who ya callin?

  JARROD doesn’t respond, he’s looking at his phone.

  Oi, dickhead, who ya callin?

  JARROD: Watch your mouth, idiot. I’m callin your sister, get your dumb arse outta here.

  RUBEN: Alright, alright. Ra-lax. Sheesh.

  JARROD: I was relaxed, till you got us kicked out of the friggin bar. I hope you’re happy.

  RUBEN smiles big and sits on the ground against the wall, having found a cigarette. He lights it.

  RUBEN: Ay, ay. ’Member when we seen that cop car at them lights just there, all us mob? [Beat.] Car was full up, unlicensed, unregistered, Aunty yelling from the front seat, ‘Duck down, Duck down!’

  JARROD: You’re drunk

  RUBEN: Cop car right behind us, cramp in my neck tryin to hide, then, nek minut we hear it, blaring from the paddy wagon, [rapping] ‘Fuck the police, fuck the police, fuck the police!’

  JARROD: Uncle Adam… mad crack.

  RUBEN: [laughing] Blaring ‘fuck the police’ from his own bloody paddy wagon, funny bastard. What a crack-up. You ’member that?

  JARROD: Yeah, I remember. Us boys were celebrating, we’d finally got her to float. The Front Yard Challenge. Joey’s skinny arse nearly got stuck under the console. Had to bust the glove box to get him out.

  RUBEN: Ha. Yeah.

  Beat.

  JARROD: You go to counselling today?

  RUBEN: I forgot that bit.

  JARROD: Did you go, drongo?

  RUBEN puts out his smoke and pats down his pockets looking for more. Finds a packet, it’s empty. He scrunches it up, throws it.

  RUBEN: Yes, stickybeak, I went. You got any smokes?

  JARROD: I quit, remember? Two weeks I haven’t had one.

  RUBEN: What? What for? Ay, rollies.

  RUBEN starts searching his pockets again.

  JARROD: What do you mean, what for?

  RUBEN: Wait first.

  Having found his rollies, RUBEN halts the conversation to focus on rolling a cigarette.

  JARROD redials a number on his phone.

  On payday they all look at me funny when I ask for two soft packs and a 30-gram pouch, but who’s laughin now? So as I never. Run. Out.

  JARROD: Well done, Rue, outsmarted the lot of us. Shame you can’t get on the charge without startin on randoms.

  RUBEN: [lighting his smoke] What? I don’t.

  JARROD: Yes you do.

  RUBEN: When else have I?

  JARROD: Yesterday, dickhead.

  RUBEN: Oh yeah.

  RUBEN laughs.

  JARROD: You’re lucky the cops aren’t here already.

  RUBEN: See, that’s the problem with you, Jarrod, you’re soft. Not me, I’ll break any bloke’s neck, I won’t hesitate.

  JARROD redials while he’s talking. He’s heard all this before.

  JARROD: You wanna watch your mouth, callin me soft.

  RUBEN: There we go, there it is.

  JARROD: Shuddup. Del don’t care what that bloke in there did to her, why should you?

  RUBEN: No-one messes with my sister, not him, not any bloke. So much as a hair on that girl’s head gets outta place, I’ll kill a cunt, I don’t give a shit. I’m not soft like you, Jarrod, I go all-out.

  JARROD’s phone call is answered. He speaks to ADELE on the other line.

  JARROD: Del… Where are ya?… Yeah, I got him… Yeah… I’ll tell ya later… What’s wrong?… Nah, it’s right, we can walk, bub.

  RUBEN looks at him.

  We can walk… [Beat.] Only if you don’t mind… Alright… Okay, bub … Yep, love you. ’Bye.

  JARROD hangs up the phone, puts it in his pocket.

  RUBEN: We can walk? You didn’t tell her we’re walkin, did ya?

  JARROD: She’s comin, she’s gonna be a while.

  RUBEN: Why, where is she?

  JARROD: She’s gotta take Izzy to the hospital, her legs.

  RUBEN: Again? Jezuus… Getting old is fucked. [He burps loudly. Fondly] My mother. Isabella Maria. Aunty Izzy wizzy, always bizzy… Ay, you wanna sneak round the back, jump the fence? I got one more 20, my shout.

  JARROD: You wouldn’t make it over the fence.

  RUBEN: What? Yeah, I could.

  JARROD: If that bouncer sees you anywhere near the place, you’ll be in the back of a paddy wagon before you can shit. Let’s just wait for Del.

  RUBEN: Pansy. See? You soft, bro! Carn, be a man, take a risk! What you scared of, Jarrod? You scared of the itty bitty po-lice. [He yells.] Fuck that little bitch of a bouncer! Fuuuucck him up his whhite—!

  JARROD grabs him. Slams him against the wall.

  JARROD: Shut the fuck up. You feel like getting locked up, ay? Ay?

  JARROD lets RUBEN go and walks away.

  RUBEN: Yeah, maybe I do! [Beat. Ferociously] Fuck you.

  JARROD: Yeah, off ya go.

  Silence.

  RUBEN: I’ll sit down then, will I? I’ll wait… Pansy Jarrod wants me to wait? So I’ll wait.

  Beat.

  JARROD: Good.

  RUBEN: Good.

  JARROD: Del’ll be here soon.

  RUBEN: Good. Great. I’ll wait with you then, brother.

  Pause.

  RUBEN can’t sit still for long. He gets to his feet and paces.

  She’s a good woman, my sister, isn’t she?

  JARROD: What?

  RUBEN: My sister, deafhead.

  JARROD: Just relax, Ruben.

  RUBEN: Nah, I’m saying she’s good, aren’t I, I’m sayin she’s good to ya.

  JARROD: Yeah, alright, she’s good to me.

  RUBEN: That’s all I’m saying, she’s good. She’s good to / you…

  JARROD: Of course she’s / good to me.

  RUBEN: And she’s good to me too, don’t matter that we’re cousins, we grew up together. Brother and sister, same blood, her mother is my mother.

  JARROD: She’s your sister, I know that. Youse are family.

  RUBEN: Yeah, we are. And I’ll protect her till the day I die. And that maggot in there, any maggot that fucks her round, I don’t give a shit if he’s family, or not.

  JARROD starts laughing.

  No matter who he is—

  JARROD: Shit, man, what you gonna do? What?

  RUBEN: What?

  JARROD: Nah, keep goin, brus, don’t let me interrupt.

  RUBEN: Nah, what? Why you being a smart-arse?

  JARROD: That dude woulda ripped you apart in there!

  RUBEN: Whatever, you don’t know / shit.

  JARROD: He’s twice your size, dickhead! And why the hell you lookin at me sideways for, you gonna bash me too? Come on then, Rambo! [Beat.] You know she sent me down here, don’t ya?

  RUBEN: So. So what?

  JARROD: Wherever you got this, this dickhead prancing around thing, thinkin it’s your job to protect everyone, piss it off, man, makes you look real stupid, Ru
bes. Seriously. Especially seein as you can’t even look after yourself. [Beat.] She sent me to get you, Rue. Who’s lookin after who, here?

  RUBEN: What the fuck are you saying? Stop talkin in riddles, man, I’m charged.

  JARROD: I know that, brother, I know.

  RUBEN: I’ll kill anyone who hurts my family. Kill ’em. [Beat.] That’s what I’m saying.

  JARROD: That’s pretty clear, brother, I get it. I just mean, there’s no need to be so aggro about it. Del doesn’t need you runnnin around smashin blokes ’cause they stole her lunch money in primary school. Your sister’s a rock.

  RUBEN: Yeah well, I’ll take on any bloke, I don’t give a shit. That’s who I am, it’s what I’m good at. Anyone wanna mess with us, they can answer to me.

  JARROD: Alright, hero. Alright.

  RUBEN: I don’t know why you gotta talk to me like this when I’m drunk, man, buzz kill.

  RUBEN is stumbling around, looking like he could fall over at any minute.

  JARROD: Rubes, because… [Beat.] Alright, man. I’ll stop. I’ll stop if you sit down.

  RUBEN: Fine.

  He attempts to sit but sort of falls to the ground.

  [Laughing] Ayy, the ground moved. I’m alright. I’m alright. [Pause.] Got a smoke, bro?

  SCENE FIVE

  Midnight.

  RUBEN and JARROD sit amongst pillows and blankets watching a TV turned up very loud. Underneath the sound of the TV is a frog-croaking orchestra.

  ADELE enters the room and throws her bag on the table, leans on the back of a chair. Till the TV is turned off, everybody yells.

  ADELE: It’s a bit loud, don’t you think?

  JARROD: What?

  ADELE: I said it’s a bit loud!

  JARROD: Rue, turn it down.

  RUBEN: What?

  JARROD: Turn it down, bro.

  RUBEN: Why?

  JARROD: Just do it.

  ADELE: Jesus.

  RUBEN: I don’t have the remote.

  JARROD: You had it there.

  RUBEN: Well, I don’t have it now.

  JARROD: Where’d you put it?

  RUBEN and JARROD are pulling up blankets, looking under pillows.

  RUBEN: I don’t know where it is!

  ADELE: Fuuuck.

  JARROD: We’re lookin, Del.

  RUBEN: Maybe it’s in the kitchen?

  JARROD: Just find it, dude.

  RUBEN: I’m looking, I’m looking.

  He rushes to the kitchen. ADELE pulls a power cord from the wall. The TV is silenced. The sound of the frog orchestra is very apparent now.

  Oh, you found it.

  JARROD: Sort of.

  RUBEN: The frogs are too loud, Del, I couldn’t hear Marky Mark.

  ADELE: You wanna shut them frogs up, Jarrod!

  JARROD: How?

  ADELE: I don’t fuckin care how, just…

  She grabs a broom that’s close by, bangs it on the walls and beams that are closest, yelling at the frogs to be quiet.

  SHUT UP, YOU FAT GREEN BASTARDS!

  The frogs fall silent.

  JARROD: Jesus, Del… what’s goin on?

  ADELE: You wanna clear all the water from the yard, mate! You wanna empty them pot plants! I asked you to do it days ago after the last rain. I won’t have them keepin me up at night, you hear me? Get rid of the water!

  JARROD: Alright!

  ADELE lazily chucks the broom, exhausted by her sudden outburst.

  Silence.

  RUBEN: Mum still in the car?

  Silence.

  JARROD: Del… [Beat.] Where’s your mum?

  ADELE: Doctor said it was best she stay. She’s there. At the hospital.

  RUBEN: Her knee get worse?

  Silence.

  ADELE: They drained her knee, gave her morphine. [Beat.] The doctor… he had a feel of Mum’s stomach, just to check. [Beat.] He… he found a lump, a big lump on her right side, near her rib cage. He said it was probably nuthin. Just wanted to check. [Beat.] We waited for an ultrasound. She got tired. [Beat.] Then he said it. The ultrasound must of… There’s a tumour on her liver. [Beat.] I guess it looks bad. He wouldn’t let me bring her home.

  Silence.

  RUBEN gets up, crosses the room to pick up his cigarettes…

  Ruben.

  RUBEN: She’ll be alright… She’ll be right. I know it. [Beat.] I’m just gonna… I’ll be back.

  Picking up his lighter, RUBEN exits.

  As he leaves a steady, gentle rain starts to fall.

  ADELE: More rain.

  A frog starts to croak, quickly joined by a few more.

  JARROD: I’ll empty the pots.

  JARROD stands to leave.

  ADELE: Don’t leave, Jay. Fuck the frogs… Don’t leave.

  JARROD goes to ADELE who’s still sitting. He holds her head against him as the rain and the frogs get louder.

  SCENE SIX

  RUBEN is back in David’s office for another counselling session.

  RUBEN: Can’t stay long today, got somewhere to be.

  DAVID: You know the drill, Ruben, court says you have to be here for the duration of the hour or I can’t sign off on it. If you need to leave we can reschedule?

  RUBEN: Can’t even give us a break, can ya?

  DAVID: It’s out of my hands, Ruben. [Beat.] You need to get to the hospital? [Pause.] I heard, that’s all… Your aunty’s been an important part of the community for a long time.

  RUBEN: Yeah, well her time’s pretty much up.

  DAVID: I can drop you there after the session if you like? I’d like to see her actually, pay my respects.

  RUBEN: It’s fine.

  Beat.

  DAVID: How is she?

  RUBEN: Fine.

  Silence.

  DAVID: I’m sorry. [Beat.] Hard thing, saying goodbye.

  Beat.

  RUBEN: So what’s on the cards today, Stuart Park? Let’s cut the chitchat, hey. Second-to-last session. Gonna set me up with some nice little tools to guide me through the world? Give me a mantra I can whisper, help me make it through the bad times—

  DAVID: Why do you do that?

  RUBEN: Do what?

  DAVID: Turn this into a joke.

  RUBEN: [smiling] Coping mechanism, I guess.

  DAVID: Don’t be a smart-arse.

  RUBEN: Well, that’s what it is, isn’t it? What do you want me to say?

  RUBEN laughs at himself.

  DAVID: I’m getting sick of this attitude, Ruben.

  RUBEN: Is that right, Stuart Park, what you gonna / do?

  DAVID: When does it end? Where does it stop? I’m obviously wasting my time here, thinkin about you, / aren’t I?

  RUBEN: You been thinkin about me, have ya? Naaw, I’m touched—

  DAVID: Wasting my time is what it is, thinkin about you. Thinkin about how it’ll end, how it turns out for you—

  RUBEN: And how does it end, ay?

  DAVID: Quickly. Ruben. Quickly. I blink and you’re gone. You wanna muck around like this is a game? Only person who’s gonna lose is you. You wanna smart-arse around like trauma’s a fuckin joke? You wanna sit here and tell me about choices when week after week you come in here and deliberately dick me around, waste my time, and yours? You’ve had the opportunity, Ruben, the choice every week, to talk to me, to let me help you sort out the things going on in your head, but you don’t wanna do that, do you? Let’s be honest, you’re scared to do that, aren’t you? And like a coward you’ve avoided every question I’ve asked.

  Silence.

  Despite what you think, I’m not tryin to make you talk about the ‘bad shit’, that’s not what I want. All I’m asking is for you to be honest with me. With yourself. Talk to me, none of this ego-rambling rubbish. Maybe that’s what you wanna present to the world, this confident man who knows his shit, but when you don’t… when you pretend with this bullshit attitude, you’re not foolin’ anyone. I know what it feels like, I do. You drag yourself out of a shithole, dealt a hard fuckin han
d, and you’ve worked too long keepin your head up, I get it. Feels like all you’ve got are your muscles and your fists and fuck the rest, I get it, I do, but no-one’s gonna hear you that way, brother, I promise you that. [Beat.] I’m sorry… I am. About what you and your family have been through. It shouldn’t be this hard.

  Pause.

  We have two more sessions as outlined by your parole officer and the DCC. I’m not signing you off after that. I’m recommending you do a further three months of counselling before your next review.

  RUBEN: Are you serious?

  DAVID: Do I look like I’m muckin around? [Beat.] What, Ruben? Really, what? You wanna ignore the hole in your chest, hug your mob after funeral time and forget about it?

   Mob can’t survive like that, you can’t survive like that. We gotta talk to each other, as hard as it is, ’cause I guarantee you, that phone will ring and you’ll have to say goodbye again. [Beat.] You know how much we’ve lost. How far this thing has spread.

  Pause.

  This is what we got. One shot. [Beat.] I’m gonna give you the option to request a new counsellor. If you’d prefer to see someone other than me, you can. We’d do the last two sessions together then if you want, we can find you someone else. I want you to know though, Rue, I want to be here. I wanna hear what you’ve got to say. You wanna call me Stuart Park, or dickhead, I don’t care, bring it on. When the smoke’s comin out your ears, or my ears, or both our ears, I wanna be here, I wanna hear it. I wanna hear you.

  Fuck sweeping it under the rug. [Beat.] Your move, brother.

  SCENE SEVEN

  Night. Rain falls softly.

  Simultaneously:

  RUBEN sits under the street lamp in front of his old house. He’s got a can of Southern Comfort and his earpieces in. He’s singing loudly and obnoxiously as he drinks. We don’t hear his music this time, just his drunk melancholic singing. He sings the first verse.

  At the same time, JARROD and ADELE are at home. The mood is sombre. JARROD is in the kitchen looking for something to eat. ADELE sits at the table. They both look exhausted.

  ADELE: Jarrod, put the kettle on for us.

  JARROD finds a biscuit tin and takes a few out. He boils the kettle.

  You pick up them magazines?

  JARROD: They’re in the car.

  ADELE: What about that bag of clothes, the pyjamas an’ that.

  JARROD: In the car.

  ADELE: Where the hell is this idiot now? I’m not gonna sit here, waiting for him, the fat shit. [Beat.] Balnba?