Taylor - Someday

Copyright 1993 by Drew Hayden Taylor All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review to print in a magazine or newspaper, or broadcast on radio or television. In the case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, users must obtain a licence from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency. Permission to perform the play, in whole or in part, must be obtained from the author, c/o the publisher. Cover design by John Luckhurst/GDL
Cover photograph of the author by Sherry Huff The publisher gratefully acknowledges the support received from The Canada Council and Heritage Canada. All characters and events in Someday are fictional.

CANADIAN CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION DATA
Taylor, Drew Hayden, 1962-Someday A play.
ISBN 1-895618-10-X (print)
ISBN 978-1-92708-376-5 (ePub) I. Title. PS8589.A885S6 1993 C812'.54 C92-098172-0
PR9199.3.T295S6 1993 FIFTH HOUSE LTD. To all the people
who are looking,
and all the people
who are waiting. Acknowledgements The original concept and story line for Someday came from a story I wrote for The Globe and Mail . It was published as the Globe's annual Christmas short story on 24 December 1990.

I'm told it was the first piece of (intentional) fiction ever published on the front page. And may whoever watches us from above look down and bless Larry Lewis for recognizing the dramatic possibilities of the piece and having the idea of turning it into a play. A special thanks to the Banff Playwright Colony for providing me with the opportunity of fleshing out the story and coming away with a workable first draft. Someday was produced by De-ba-jeh-mu-jig Theatre Group, located on Manitoulin Island. It premiered on 4 November 1991 at the Wikwemikong Reserve, Ontario, with what I consider a dream cast and crew. Herbie Barnes Rodney Joy Keeper Barb Edna Manitowabi Anne Doris Linklater Grace/Janice Directed by Larry Lewis, with Floyd Favel Lights and sets by Stephen Droege Music by Marsha Coffey Stage managed by Sheila Kinoshameg There are many other people I would like to thank who in some way provided support or encouragement for this small piece of theatre: Audrey Debassige, Kait Mathews, Maxine Noel, Fuddy Fisher, Zeke Peltier, The Toronto Native Child and Family Services, Sonny Osawabine, Laurie Baldhead, and everybody else at De-ba-jeh-mu-jig Theatre that I haven't mentioned.

Cast of Characters Rodney , friend of the family
Barb Wabung , 23, Rodney's girlfriend
Anne Wabung , 53, mother of Barb and Janice
Janice (Grace) Wirth , 35, the long-lost daughter/sister Location This play takes place in a fictional Ojibway community on the Otter Lake Reserve, somewhere in central Ontario. It could also take place in any Native community in Canada. Time The last week before Christmas 1991a time of great happiness and sadness. Life:
The Creator's Way of Saying
"Impress Me" About the Author Drew Hayden Taylor has been called "one of Canada's leading Native dramatists" by the Montreal Gazette . His last play, The Bootlegger Blues (published in 1991), won the Canadian Authors Association Award for Drama. His first book, Toronto at Dreamer's Rock and Education Is Our Right: Two One Act Plays , was published in 1990.

The first play in that volume won Taylor a prestigious Chalmers Award in 1992 for the production by De-ba-jeh-mu-jig Theatre Group. Drew Taylor is an Ojibway from the Curve Lake Reserve in Ontario. He writes drama for stage and screen and has contributed articles on Native arts and culture to many periodicals, including Maclean's, Cinema Canada , and The Globe and Mail . His play Someday first appeared as a short story on the front page of The Globe and Mail the only piece of fiction ever to appear thereon Christmas Eve in 1990. He is currently working on a movie script for CBC-TV. Act I It is the week before Christmas on the Otter Lake Reserve.

Rodney, an Ojibway man of 25, is shovelling snow. Behind him, boasting a big picture window looking into a homey, well-equipped if modestly appointed country kitchen, is a pre-turn-of-the-century frame house with a near dangerous physical lean to the left. The building is decorated with Christmas regalia. Rodney is singing but is enjoying nothing. The sound of Christmas carols can be heard in the background. RODNEY: "'Tis the season to be jolly ( raspberries ), thppth, thppth, thppth, thppth, thppth thppth, thppth, thppth, thppth." God, I hate Christmas.

I really do. I hate the way everything gets speeded up two extra notches, like diarrhoea after bad cranberry sauce. I hate all the distant relatives who treat you like you just gave them a kidney. Greedy kids, greedy adults, greedy department stores. I hate those stupid songs: the bad Frosties and Rudolphs; 'twas the night before Christmas with mice of all things; The Flintstones meet Santa Claus; Gilligan's Island meets Sant Claus; and in 1969 even the Apollo astronauts meet Santa Claus. And most of all, I hate snow.

The more you shovel, the more seems to come, like homework. I came back home for this? At least in the city they pay white people to do this. The ironic thing is, this isn't even my driveway. That makes me more miserable. Snow to the left of me. Snow to the right of me.

My kingdom for a snowblower! Barb, 23, walks on carrying shopping bags full of Christmas-type materials, wrapping paper, ribbons, etc. BARB: Waiting for the snow to melt? RODNEY: I'm waiting for my heart to restart, if you must know. BARB: Quit slacking off. Try to finish the driveway before dark, huh? RODNEY: And while I have the shovel, a new foundation for a house perhaps? BARB: Don't bother, that would take a man, with muscles. RODNEY: Oh, your wit skewers me. BARB: Whatever.

Barb leaves the driveway and enters the house. A Chipmunks Christmas carol commences to play. RODNEY: Ah yes, the Chipmunks. The voice of sanity in this depressingly cheery season. And that ravishing creature was my little speedbump on the road of happiness. The girl of my dreamsor sometimes nightmares.

I'm told we have a peculiar relationship, sort of like a cross between Oka and a cheap motel: we fight, we make up, we make love, we fight again. Sometimes we fight while making love. If it wasn't for the luxurious job she enjoys at the band office, it just wouldn't be the same. We'd be broke. Anne, a woman in her mid-50s, enters. She is carrying containers, some empty, others filled with various leather and beaded crafts.

ANNE: Hey there, handsome. How's the job going? RODNEY: With a job you get paid. ANNE: I don't know what your usual fee is but how's about a good old-fashioned cookie? She pries open a Tupperware container and offers Rodney a cookie. Rodney takes it. RODNEY: Ooh, chocolate chip. ANNE: It's all I need in life.

My chocolate chip cookies, my soap operas, and my lottery tickets. What else is there? Someday I'm gonna be rich. Just you wait. Rodney watches as Anne enters the house. RODNEY: Anne. I think she's one of the reasons I put up with Barb.

There's just the two of them now. The Wabungs, mother and daughter, oil and vinegar, salt and pepper, cats and dogs. Well, you know what I mean. ( he walks up to the house ) It's amazing this house is still standing. If you'll notice, there is a definite lean to the left. ( he points ) Because of that, I like to call it the Communist House.

Get it, lean to the left? Anne is convinced the house will outlive her and Barb. "People die, but never memories." And this place is full of memories. Every family has their skeletons. The Wabungs are no different. Rodney looks towards the house. Anne and Barb can be seen in silhouette through the big window as they move back and forth.