ARRIVALS / DEPARTURES: a play

CAST OF CHARACTERS

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ARRIVALS/DEPARTURES was presented in June 2009 at

Cherry Lane Theatre as a reading with the following cast:

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Fred ……………..… George Wendt *

Nathan …………..... Kellan Tortora *

Wayan Balik ………. Rodney To *

Tarek ……………..... Danny Beiruti

Wayan ……………... Hoon Lee *

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* These actors appeared courtesy of Actors' Equity Association

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SCENE FOUR

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A house on stilts grows on a lush hillside—like a weed. Its wide veranda hovers high above the river valley where surrounding rice terraces run uninterrupted. 

​

Champaka flowers from the morning offerings have wilted. Chimes hang on the porch, coaxed by wind coming off the mountain. Beyond teak loungers, sliding panels reveal an oddly suburban Texas interior.

​

Nathan is typing.

​

NATHAN

I thought you were in town.

 

TAREK

I was earlier.

 

NATHAN

Oh.

 

TAREK

You’re writing.

 

NATHAN

Believe it or not, I’ve actually made some progress.

It’s been quiet with Fred distracted by his new toy.

 

TAREK

I saw.

 

NATHAN

How was town?

 

TAREK

Hot, crowded. How you feeling today?

 

NATHAN

Could be worse. Hope I didn’t act like an ass.

 

TAREK

You remember falling asleep during our conversation?

 

NATHAN

Yikes.

 

TAREK

No worries...I have friends back home who do the same thing

sober.

 

NATHAN

No dinner plans tonight?

 

TAREK

Nah.

 

NATHAN

I was thinking of going down to Nusa Dua. There’s this restaurant

on the main drag.

 

TAREK

Reminds you of home?

 

NATHAN

Wouldn’t go that far—more like Hollywood Road in Hong

Kong.

 

TAREK

Think I might stay here tonight.

 

NATHAN

Again?

 

TAREK

I didn’t get a proper night’s sleep.

 

NATHAN

What were you doing out in the fields?

 

TAREK

Last night?

 

NATHAN

You were in the fields last night?

 

TAREK

No.

 

NATHAN

I mean, just now.

 

TAREK

Wandering...

 

NATHAN

It’s easy to get lost out there.

(beat)

You were saying something last night.

 

TAREK

It was nothing.

 

NATHAN

It was something.

 

TAREK

I have an unhealthy fascination with this island.

​

NATHAN

Not just you—we're full up with sex-pats and Walter Spies-wannabes.

(beat)

So, you have been to Bali before?

 

TAREK

Yes.

​

NATHAN

The second time is better.

​

TAREK

(reluctant)

Or the seventh.

 

NATHAN

Seventh?

 

TAREK

It was Sophie’s idea that first time.

 

NATHAN

Your sister?

 

TAREK

Her boyfriend was organising a season-end trip for his

footy mates. She didn’t like the idea—him partying out

here. It has a reputation, y'know?

 

NATHAN

Right.

 

TAREK

She thought it would be fun to surprise him. Check up on

him, more like.

 

NATHAN

You tagged along?

 

TAREK

Didn't want to at first. But our mum and dad were not about to let

her go alone—she was young. So she talked me into going with her.

 

NATHAN

When does football season end?

 

TAREK

October.

​

NATHAN

You went to Kuta?

 

TAREK

Sophie tried to sell me on the trip but it didn’t take a lot of

convincing.

 

NATHAN

You were there. Weren’t you?

​

Tarek nods his head.

 

NATHAN

(continuing)

You wanted to tell me last night. Why?

 

TAREK

I don’t know. Seemed like you had lost someone, too.

 

NATHAN

More than him. A few years ago, my best friend passed...

suddenly—three months before her wedding day, no shit. I was

supposed to be in the wedding party. But ended up as a

pallbearer instead.

 

TAREK

You can sense loss in other people, I guess. Maybe I just finally wanted

to tell someone.

 

NATHAN

What happened that first trip?

 

TAREK

After a few nights of partying in Kuta, I started venturing off

on my own. Those guys were heaps of fun, but I was the only

one crawling back to my hotel room alone end of the night.

 

NATHAN

Did your sister know you were gay?

 

TAREK

I guess she knows now. I found some places online and

before long, I’m sneaking off to more desirable venues,

seeing my sister only on the beach in the arvo.

 

NATHAN

And then...

 

TAREK

And then...

​

NATHAN

On that Saturday...

 

TAREK

I was pretty trashed at a bar in Seminyak, striking out

pitifully with two boys from Cork. I noticed some

geriatric admirers staring me, so I found transport

and off I went—back to the hotel.

 

NATHAN

Did you go straight back?

 

TAREK

When we got into Kuta the driver was the first to notice all

the commotion in the streets. “What happened?” He said to

me. I was...out of it. But I remember hearing all of the

sirens and seeing tourists lined up along hotel balconies—

pointing, screaming...in shock, basically. Then we got

really close—gridlock. Chaos outside the car window. I

could see the orange glow of fire up ahead. I thought a

plane must have gone down—I couldn’t think of any other

explanation. We didn’t move. At some point I got out of the

taxi—I don’t even remember if I paid the driver. I started

walking down Jalan Legian—felt more like floating.

 

NATHAN

Where was your sister?

 

TAREK

I reckon it was about eleven-thirty—at least that’s how I

figure it—when I got close to where the Sari Club used to

be. The street was littered with bodies, unrecognizable

parts...

 

NATHAN

How close could you get to the club?

 

TAREK

The street was like a parking lot. There was damage to the

road itself and no one was moving. A vehicle up ahead,

immobilized in charred ruin, had four dead passengers sitting

upright, the driver with his hands still clutching the wheel.

Most people were out of their cars, trying to help.

 

NATHAN

My mother says it’s chemical, what makes people come together

in a crisis.

 

TAREK

As I passed Paddy’s Bar, I could see there was nothing left—except

the plastic palm trees out front and a few shreds of the Irish flag wrapped

around dead tree branches.

​

I remember it like a nightmare—disjointed with a lot of

time gaps—but somehow I found myself standing right in

front of the Sari Club. I can recall images of people lying

there on the street—in particular, a worker sitting on the

ground screaming, his leg so badly burned I had to look away.

 

NATHAN

What did you do?

 

TAREK

There was no way into the club—it was just a shell of a

building with flames shooting out from all directions.

Gigantic beams were falling. I could see people running out

but no one was running back in by the time I got there. One

woman came barreling out with her hair completely up in

flames. I saw bodies being flung over a tall wall but I

couldn’t make out any faces—everyone was covered in ash and

thick smoke was making my own eyes tear. I took out my phone

and called her number.

 

NATHAN

(beat)

And?

 

Beat.

 

TAREK

At some point, Russell, one of the guys from the team,

recognised me on the street and asked me if I had seen two of

his mates. I’m not sure how I even processed what he was

telling me but we managed to exchange a little bit of

information. It turns out Sophie was definitely inside the

club earlier, but he hadn’t seen her since. I had a really

sick feeling. I looked in vain for police but everyone was

too busy and had no answers.

 

NATHAN

Where did you go?

 

TAREK

I stood there for hours—looking for her, looking for

Cameron, looking for anyone. I finally made my way to the

beach. A lot of foreigners spent that night on Kuta beach—scared

of another bomb. Everyone wanted to be near the water

after seeing firsthand what fire can do to the human body. I

saw a man drag himself across the road because his feet had

been blasted right off in the explosion. By sunrise, I

called home and got my dad out of bed. My parents hadn’t

heard anything yet but were obviously concerned. My dad

later told me that he knew something was very wrong by the

sound of my voice. They told me to go to the police but they

didn’t understand what it was like here.

​

NATHAN

What was it like?

 

TAREK

I spent days just making rounds to all the hospitals. I saw

the most graphic scenes at Sanglah—bodies piled up like a

holocaust, a woman weeping to herself that all of her friends

were dead. Her husband shouting, “Fucking terrorists” and I

swear he looked at me like I was one of them. I checked the

information boards obsessively—the list of missing people

was quickly outnumbering the list of dead and discharged.

 

NATHAN

Did you find her?

 

TAREK

No.

 

NATHAN

You’ve been looking since.

 

TAREK

I know she never made it out of that club.

 

NATHAN

I...

 

TAREK

A man with a kilo of TNT strapped around his chest walks

right up to the bar on a Saturday night. A few seconds

later, a big van blocking traffic takes out an entire section

of the street.

 

NATHAN

I remember that day—barely a year after New York.

 

TAREK

What do you think of a man who can’t leave a memory

behind?

 

NATHAN

I think he’s looking for an answer.

 

TAREK

Or justice?

 

NATHAN

Those men were executed, no?

 

TAREK

Aren’t you going to ask me if it was satisfying?

 

NATHAN

Was it?

​

TAREK

Initially.

 

NATHAN

And now?

 

TAREK

Local authorities were disorganised but kind. Before long, the Australian

Federal Police took-over. They were suspicious of me from the start—brown

skin and all.

 

NATHAN

I remember reading there was pressure from local religious leaders.

 

TAREK

Yes.

 

NATHAN

They wouldn’t allow the Feds enough time to thoroughly

investigate the area.

 

TAREK

It was time to deposit the remains into the sea and purify

the site.

 

NATHAN

Back to nature.

 

TAREK

At first, I couldn’t understand. My sister was somewhere in

that rubble. I didn’t want her cleared away by a bulldozer.

Along with all the evidence.

 

NATHAN

You can learn a lot about a people from the way they bury

their dead. That’s what my father said in the car one day as we were

pulling away from the cemetery. Both my parents were there—one of

the few  times I’ve even seen them together in the last ten years. I’m not

exactly sure what specifically my father was referring to with that comment,

but I remember thinking about Viva’s brother, heaving that heavy rock

onto her coffin. It made the most disconcerting thud. His eyes were vacant

behind a steady stream and at first, I figured it was some spontaneous outburst

of grief. Why Viva? Why so young?—that kind of thing. I guess it didn’t

register, until her Uncle Benny picked up a nearby shovel, that we were

literally supposed to bury her. It was hard enough for me to help the other

pallbearers lower her coffin into the ground. But before long, I found myself

dropping stones and earth down there—passing shovels back and forth among

grieving family and close friends. It was amazing, actually. The Rabbi said,

“Don’t let strangers bury her.” And all of a sudden, every Catholic  burial I’ve

ever been to seemed so cold, turning our backs on the task at hand,

the final thing you can really do for a loved one, allowing for some random

cemetery workers to make a quick job of it as soon as the stretch of

black cars is far enough away.

 

TAREK

You got to say goodbye.

 

NATHAN

I think it helps.

 

TAREK

Don’t tell Fred or anyone what I told you.

 

NATHAN

I won’t.

 

TAREK

And Nathan, I do want to go to Nusa with you—some

other time.

 

NATHAN

You never said why you were in the fields last night.

 

TAREK

I should wash up.

 

Tarek exits.