Modern Mystery

It is Saturday. I did not get time to write to you before I came to work, and hence I am in the somewhat irritating position of trying to tell you all of my news in between customers.

Obviously I keep being interrupted. Somebody wanted to know where to find the pub across the road, somebody else wanted a taxi despite wearing only a dressing gown and having no money, and eventually there was an actual taxi job.

I declined the dressing gown job. I see plenty of people out and about wearing considerably less than that, and hence had no sympathy. I am not here as a charity transport service, so they walked.

I am probably not going to write very much, and so think I will attach my assignment to the bottom so you will have plenty to read and not feel cheated. I have had an extremely busy day, but probably am not going to get much time to tell you all about it.

It started some time in the middle of the night when Roger Poopy’s tiresome father was sick all over the place.

We woke up this morning to a carpet saturated with dog vomit and utterly covered with undigested shards of bone. You will recall I gave them bones yesterday.

Clearly it was just too much for his elderly digestion to cope with.

I would like to say that we said: Oh, poor old thing, what a shame, and patted him with sympathetic affection, but we didn’t. Instead we swore and grumbled and chucked them all out into the back yard until it was cleared up.

It took quite a bit of clearing up, I can tell you.

After that Mark took the three of them off to the farm whilst I raced around clearing up. It is brilliant when the dogs go out. Somehow absolutely everything is much easier.

I hoovered and mopped and dusted and made the house feel fresh again. Then  I cleaned my taxi so that I could go to work without the memory of last night’s customers.

I took two very intoxicated men from Sunderland last night. I could not understand a single word they said to me. Not one. I dropped them off approximately where I thought they might be going, but I have no idea if it was right or not.

Once they were scrubbed away I baked pies.

…and now I am at work.

I am going to give up on this. You can have a play instead.

It is a Mystery Play. Not the Agatha Christie sort, but the York sort.

It is called A Thoroughly Modern Mystery.

(A village hall.

 

A small cart has been propped centre stage, shafts in the air.  Chairs are stacked to the sides.

 

As the lights rise, JONQUIL enters. He is effeminate, mid-thirties, dressed in a flamboyant shirt and jeans. He crosses to the cart and looks at it speculatively for a moment, then takes hold of the shafts and adjusts its position. He arranges chairs in a half-circle, facing the cart, then returns to the cart, adjusting it so that it is perfect.

 

He climbs on it and tests it for balance.

 

After a moment he begins to fantasise. He throws his arms outwards and gazes towards heaven, in a dramatic religious gesture. He is enjoying the applause of an imaginary audience, when TOBY walks in, carrying a sheaf of papers.

 

TOBY is also in his mid-thirties, balding slightly, with an earring and a goatee beard. His jacket is fashionable, high-end chain store, the sleeves pushed up, his jeans narrow.)

 

 

TOBY:  You made it already. Brilliant, so glad you’re early.

 

JONQUIL: (slightly embarrassed, climbing quickly off the cart) Toby, hi. Oh my, are those our scripts?

 

(TOBY flourishes the scripts and grins.)

 

TOBY:  Hot off the presses.

 

(He hands one to JONQUIL and then distributes the others among the chairs. JONQUIL looks through his eagerly.)

 

JONQUIL:  Oh my absolute goodness, such a big part. (He flaps the script at TOBY and giggles)

 

TOBY:  You’ll be just great.

 

(They move back to the cart and look through the script as the others start to filter in. ROY is in his mid-fifties, pinched, with a flat cap. KIRAN is Indian, in his early twenties. KEV is tattooed, heavily built, in his forties. They do not know one another well, and murmur greetings. TOBY gestures for them to sit down and encourages them to look at the scripts. After a moment or two he looks at his watch.)

 

TOBY: I really think we’ll have to get started. They lock the hall at nine. Is this everybody?

 

(They look at one another and nod, probably it is.)

 

Let’s get the ball rolling, then. Good evening everybody, welcome to the team. You all know me, obviously, and I’d like to introduce you to Jonquil, who’s our resident expert and advisory body. He’s done quite a bit of theatre, and has a diploma in Performance Arts from the University of Preston, so he knows what he’s talking about.

 

KEV: (To JONQUIL) Don’t I know you? I thought you worked at the tax office.

 

JONQUIL:  Well, yes, but…

 

KEV: Thought so. You might remember my wife. Carol’s Cute Cutz Mobile Hairdressing. I remember you all right.

 

TOBY: (hastily) Jonquil has been absolutely instrumental in getting the project off the ground. If it wasn’t for all of his hard work we wouldn’t be here this evening. He put the proposal forward, and made sure we got a hearing.

 

KEV: Well he would do, wouldn’t he? Castle Taxis sponsored it this year.

 

TOBY: (firmly) The organisers have been very excited to hear our ideas. The thing about the traditional cycle of religious Mystery plays is that they’re all so – samey. Everybody’s heard them before, and of course we all know what happens in the end. They aren’t multicultural, they don’t address equality issues, there’s very little there to appeal to Gen Z. To the mobile phone generation.

 

Jonquil and I have put a different spin on it. What we have here is a completely innovative idea. A step away from the boring old predictable. A mysterious mystery. We thought we might confront our audiences with the question: What would Jesus have done if things had been different? We thought we would take the historical character of Jesus and introduce him to some of the challenges faced by our own youngsters in the modern environment.

 

ROY: (looking at his script) It says here that it’s performed by Vegan Butchers. I’m not a vegan butcher. I’m a postman.

 

JONQUIL:  Ah yes. You see, the thing was, when the Mystery Plays were first performed, in the fourteenth century, every guild of tradesmen had their own. They went round the town with their handcart, performing the same play in a dozen different places, just as we do today. Every guild did their own play every year. Well this is a brand new play, and we don’t have a guild to take it on, so we created one. The Worshipful Guild of Vegan Butchers.

 

ROY:  What does a vegan butcher do?

 

KEV:  Slaughters vegetables.

 

KIRAN:  Uh, maybe I should say, I’m not a vegan. I like scrambled eggs for breakfast.

 

ROY: I’m not a vegan either.

 

KEV: Nor is he. (pointing to JONQUIL) Milk and four sugars. I remember him.

 

TOBY:  That isn’t the point. We don’t need to be actual vegan butchers. It’s just part of the magic. The theatrical tradition. Shall we have a look at the script?

 

(They all look at their scripts.)

 

JONQUIL: (dreamily) The Pride of Galilee.

 

TOBY:  Absolutely. We looked at the life of Jesus and saw how passionately he embraced the rights of minorities. (He nods towards JONQUIL) The tax collector. The downtrodden women. It was absolutely clear to us. Jesus would have stood side by side with the early gay community. He would have fought with them against the queerphobic. Against the gendered assumptions of the Jewish church.

 

JONQUIL:  We thought about the ways he must have fought back. We thought about all the years missing from the Bible. We thought it was impossible that he wouldn’t have been engaged in activism of some kind, and we thought maybe he might have been instrumental in setting up the early Pride marches of his time.

 

ROY:  Are you saying Jesus was a queer?

 

TOBY:  Well, who knows? Although for the record my guess is that he was very probably a pansexual. The bottom line is that we don’t have any actual concrete evidence for his sexuality, just centuries of prejudice and heterosexual assumptions. We know he chose the company of men like himself. He asked them to leave their wives and come to love him, what are we supposed to think about that?

 

JONQUIL:  We think a lot of the prejudice and hatred that he encountered at the end of his life was probably because of his sexuality. Because of his joyful acceptance of all genders and ways of being.

 

KEV:  I’m not pretending to be a queer.

 

TOBY:   No, no, you don’t have to, Kev. We’d cast you as the policeman.

 

KEV:  Just saying.

 

JONQUIL:  I’m going to play Jesus. Toby’s going to be Mary Magdalene. We thought Roy might really shine as St. Peter, the other part of the love triangle, and Kiran was just the obvious choice to be God.

 

TOBY:  We really wanted to get people challenging their own prejudices. You know, God as a cricketing white man eating scones in the vestry.

 

KIRAN:  I like scones. My mum makes them.

 

KEV:  That’s because she’s oppressed, brother.

 

KIRAN: I don’t think so. She’s chief of police.

 

TOBY:  I think we’ll skip the first scene whilst we’ve got everybody here, because it’s just a dialogue between Jesus and God. We can work on that between the two of you later.

 

KIRAN: (reading the script) It’s got a funny ring to it, Eternal Parent.  

 

TOBY: We’ll head straight to Scene Two, which is the Galilee Community Centre. Jesus has been taking a turn helping Mary Magdalene to supervise the crèche, when he meets Saint Peter, who has come in for a meeting to discuss his alcoholism with his probation officer. He’s been enduring terrible discrimination because of his sexuality, and he’s started self-harming. Jesus tells him that he is not alone, because he has loving brothers and sisters all around him.

 

KIRAN: Can you say that?

 

TOBY:  What?

 

KIRAN:  Brothers and sisters. I mean, not everybody is a boy or a girl nowadays.  They’ve got pronouns. I know because we had a memo about it at work. It said we weren’t allowed to take the piss out of people called Them. Even if it was funny.

 

JONQUIL:  He’s right, you know. Some people might feel excluded by such rigid definitions. We can’t say Brothers and Sisters.

 

ROY:  Well what about just calling everybody Relatives? That doesn’t leave anybody out.

 

JONQUIL:  You’d need to make it clear they weren’t blood relatives. Otherwise the whole thing starts to reek of incest. It might start triggering people. You need to be careful.

 

TOBY: (makes a note in his script) That’s really useful feedback, guys. Constructive. How about if Jesus says: Unrelated Relatives, how would that be.

 

(Nods from everybody.)

 

The thing is that I’d written a couple more lesbians into the scene, and we don’t seem to have anybody free to play them. Kev, do you think you might be up for a quick change to playDawn the Lesbian? The policeman doesn’t appear until the next scene, the one where he tramples on the rainbow banner.

 

KEV:  No.

 

JONQUIL:  You’d have time. We could put a screen up for you.

 

KEV:  I’m not dressing up as a lesbian.

 

TOBY: But…

 

(The door opens, and JEZ enters. He is in his late twenties, handsome, well-built, still dressed in workman’s clothes and boots. Everybody looks up.)

 

JEZ:  Is this the Worshipful Guild of Vegan Butchers? That’s such a cool name. I’m not too late, am I? We were at work late, a job needed finishing. I’m so sorry. Can I sit here? Hi, everybody, hi. This is so awesome. Guys, I’m Jez, who are all of you?

 

(They all introduce themselves as JEZ, excitedly, reaches out to shake everybody’s hand. TOBY is a bit disapproving of the interruption.)

 

JEZ: (to JONQUIL) Hi, so cool to meet you. Actually I think I know you. Don’t you work at the tax office? You might remember me. From Rivergate Joinery.

 

TOBY: We’re short on time, let’s move on.

 

KEV: Perfect timing. Have you ever dressed up as a lesbian, Jez?

 

JEZ: (confused) Sorry?

 

TOBY:  We need somebody to play a lesbian, just to add some depth to the group scenes. Kev was going to do it, but he doesn’t think he can manage the costume change in time.

 

JEZ:  Sure, sounds awesome. Anything you like, glad to step in, cool.

 

TOBY:  Good, that’s sorted then. Right, everybody, let’s get going.

 

(They stand and move the chairs back. JEZ picks up a script and starts flicking through it. TOBY moves the others into their places.)

 

TOBY:  That’s it. Kiran, God always stands on this side of the stage. On the right. Like the fairy in the pantomime.

 

KEV: Put Mr. Tax Return next to him.

 

(TOBY ignores him.)

 

TOBY: Roy, I want you to sit on the side of the cart here. You’ve got a bottle in your pocket and I want you to take it out and look at it longingly. You’re thinking of your next drink and how much you want one to take your sorrows away. You don’t notice Jesus and Mary at first, and they don’t notice you. Jesus, it isn’t scripted, but you and Mary are talking about the crèche children. About their little issues and ways you can help them to bloom into their beautiful young selves. Jez, you’re Dawn, over here. We could perhaps get you some dungarees. You’ve been to a Thunder Drummers’ meeting.

 

Right, everybody, from the top.

 

KIRAN: (reading woodenly) Oh my child, go thou forth into the world and bring comfort to the needy.

 

JONQUIL: (to JEZ) Why, Dawn. I greet thee, little unrelated relative. How art thou this joyful Wednesday morn?

 

JEZ: (following the lines with his finger) Grievous sad, my lord.

 

JONQUIL: Not Lord. Too gender-specific. What about Important Person?

 

JEZ: Oh. Okay. Grievous sad, my Important Person, for I have suffered terrible discrimination this very day. Galilee Local Council have shoved me to the back of the housing queue because of my childless non-heterosexual status.

 

JONQUIL:  Why, for shame! This has gone on long enough. Unrelated Relatives all, gather round. The time has come to show Galilee Local Council that we mean business. We need to fight back. We need to bring them down.

 

TOBY: (as Mary) You are right, Important Person. We need to gather under the rainbow banner of peace, and fight their abuses with a show of force.

 

JONQUIL: We will march! (Pause) Roy, that’s your line.

 

ROY:  Oh yes. Sorry. (As Peter) Why, this is the moment I have been waiting for. My lord…

 

TOBY: Important Person.

 

ROY: What? Oh, yes. My Important Person. I want to give my life to thy service. Wilt thou accept my fealty?

 

JONQUIL: Gladly, my unrelated relative. And now let us go forth.

 

JEZ:  So, ‘scuse me, I don’t quite get it. Did he say they were going to march on the Housing Office?

 

TOBY: Yes, that’s right. With a rainbow banner, to protest about not offering housing to the LBTQ unrelated relatives.

 

KIRAN: LGBQT.

 

TOBY: Whatever. It’s what Jesus would have done.

 

JEZ: I thought Jesus wanted people not to quarrel with one another, and think about God. Shouldn’t he be telling Dawn to consider the sparrows and lilies of the field, and just trust God to find her somewhere to live?

 

JONQUIL: Yes, but everybody knows that doesn’t work.

 

KEV: You’d finish up selling the Big Issue pretty quick if you waited for God to fill in the housing forms.

 

ROY: You’d probably finish up there whoever filled them in. Nobody reads them.

 

JEZ: Yes, but if Jesus was talking to Dawn he’d be talking about faith, and walking the path her Heavenly Father…

 

TOBY:  Parent…

 

JEZ:  …had chosen for her. He’d tell her to trust God, and remember that the council were just people trying their best, sonot to spoil a nice day getting angry about it. I expect somebody would have a spare room anyway, probably Jesus or Mary Magdalene. They’d share until she got sorted out.

 

JONQUIL: Yes, but that’s bollocks, with respect. It isn’t the message we’re trying to get across here.

 

JEZ:  Oh. So what is the message?

 

TOBY: That we need to stand together against oppression.

 

JONQUIL: To fight for equality.

 

JEZ: Sort of like Marxism, but with God added in?

 

TOBY:  No, no, we’re totally non-political.

 

JEZ: (enthusiastically) Oh, wow, togetherness and equality, that’s really great. Maybe they could take flowers to the council.That’s a really brilliant message. Sort of, you are our unrelated relatives as well, and we want you to know God loves you too. To really cheer up their day. Maybe bake a cake to share.

 

ROY: Share cake with the council?

 

JEZ: Yes, everybody likes cake. The creamy sort with chocolate.

 

TOBY: (firmly) That shows prejudice against the gluten intolerant. That isn’t why we’re here.

 

JEZ: Oh. Sorry.

 

JONQUIL: We’re here to fight prejudice. To change the way people think.

 

JEZ:  Does it matter what people think? They’re only people. Just little scared people who don’t understand. Let’s do something kind so they start to be glad. They’ll feel a bit happier. Then the world gets a bit better. Happy people don’t do unkind things.

 

TOBY: It isn’t about being kind. You can’t be kind to the council.

 

JEZ: Can’t you?

 

KEV: You could write to them and tell them they’re doing a good job.

 

KIRAN: My mum got a letter like that once. She kept it for ages.

 

TOBY: Shall we go from the top?

 

JEZ: Sure. Hey, guys, I admire this so much. I think what you’re trying to do here is really brilliant. To build love and understanding between everybody. You know, I think if we tried, we could make everybody in the audience go away feeling a bit warmer. Happier. As if the world wasn’t a hopeless place. That’s such a fantastic thing. I think you guys are such heroes for giving it a go.

 

(There is a silence.)

 

JONQUIL: We just want people to respect one another.

 

KEV: You know, Carol’s got a recipe for gluten-free cake.

 

TOBY: We aren’t actually going to bake cakes. It’s just a story.

 

KIRAN: Yes, but, you know, it might be cool. I could get my mum to show me how to do scones.

 

JONQUIL: Maybe we could build in an opportunity for sharing cake. With the audience.

 

ROY: Get some beer flowing, have a party.

 

JONQUIL: Wine for me. Beer gives me indigestion.

 

KEV: Might be more of a laugh than the script.

 

TOBY: (firmly) We are not serving cake and wine. This is not a Women’s Institute tea party. This is a serious project to get people talking about the difficulties encountered by minority groups. I think we’re starting to minimise some of the issues here, and I’d like to steer us back on track again.

 

KEV:  I’d rather eat cake than dress up as a lesbian. I don’t know why you’re making a fuss about lesbians anyway. Carol’s Aunty Sandra is one, and she’s got a council house, come to think of it. Why can’t we just do the cake thing?

 

JONQUIL: (slyly) God loves a queer.

 

JEZ:  God doesn’t care about queer. He doesn’t care who you shag, only who you hurt. Anger hurts people. It eats them up. Let’s not make people angry.

 

TOBY:  We don’t have time for debate, let’s just get on with the script.

 

JEZ: (suddenly serious) What are you hoping to teach here, Toby?

 

TOBY: (suddenly angry) That people should fight for their rights. Fight injustice. Fight prejudice.

 

JEZ: (gently) That’s a lot of fighting, brother.

 

KIRAN: Unrelated…

 

KEV:  Ssh.

 

JEZ:  God isn’t about fighting, Toby. That’s how you finish up with bombs. God’s about laughing. About listening. It doesn’t matter who you like sleeping with. That’s such a little thing. People are more than that. God’s about not being afraid.

 

TOBY: (shouting) I’m not afraid!

 

JEZ:  But you are. You’re afraid of being small. Of being foolish. Of being insignificant. That’s why you worked so hard on the play. To be somebody. To be heard. God sees you, brother. You aren’t insignificant to him.

 

TOBY:  This isn’t about God.

 

ROY: It’s supposed to be.

 

JEZ:  God’s asking you to spread happiness with your clever words, Toby. Not to create anger. By touching souls and bringing joy. People feel happy when you smile and give them cake. Not when you shout and wave flags. Use your play to make them laugh.

 

KEV:  I think they’ll do that all right, mate.

 

TOBY: (shouting) The play is the play! I want people to be angry. I want them to…

 

JEZ: (gently) To blame and hate?

 

TOBY:  Fuck you!

 

(There is a stunned silence)

 

KEV: (glancing at his watch) I’ve suddenly remembered I have to be home early. (He looks at JONQUIL, who is close to tears, and touches his arm) Mate, the pub’s open. Fancy a pint?

 

JONQUIL: (quietly, distressed) I’ll get my coat.

 

ROY: Me too.

 

(They exit.)

 

JEZ:  You know, I’d really like your mum’s recipe for scones, if you’ve got time. Shall I walk back with you?

 

KIRAN: (eagerly) That’d be great.

 

(They exit. TOBY is left alone on the stage. He is lost in his own thoughts for a few moments, pacing, running his hands through his hair. He stops. He takes his mobile phone out from his pocket.

 

He walks to stage L to dial.)

 

TOBY:  Hello. Is that the police? I want to report a serious concern. I’m directing a play here, and I’ve just been subjected to a long anti-gay diatribe from one of the cast. The guy said God doesn’t care about queers. Said gay people shouldn’t be trying to fight for justice. Really distressing to hear.  

 

Yes, that’s right. I’m reporting a hate crime.

 

 

 

 

                                                              FADE TO BLACK