INT. TORONTO TYPICAL EDWARDIAN GABLE - KITCHEN - EARLY EVENING
Wide pine boards painstakingly relieved of a century’s wear are placeset for six {fork left, knife right. Plate, glass, dessert spoon aligned and in place. “No elbows, no food waste.”} Twelve sock shod feet on the handfinished floor. To the left, a Wedgewood on legs abuts a squat Westinghouse (‘Now with inbuilt icebox!’). Opposite are cabinets {painstakingly reset with period glass} and a double basin, white enameled and wide enough for elbow to elbow, wide enough to catch blood [ed: no. we’re not there yet]. The year is 1990. The youngest is four.
((the kitchen fit to the house, to the holdout,
to the need to go back, and back, and
back to an imagined,
a faultless.
whole house a dollhouse
in 1:1 scale.
My father the architect
of all in these walls.))
[ed: watch it. just cause he’s dead
doesn’t mean he can’t hear you]
[FREEZE]
My sister, lamb chop held by the bone {puppet in wait of direction}. Three girls, one stepmother/mother {this line is stone}, hide the mess of a dinner{disaster}.
[ROLL TAPE]
MAN’S VOICE (FATHER) (OFF CAMERA)
Give it to her
No ‘her’ indication is given or needed. The guilty of gluttony is already known
MAN’S VOICE (still FATHER) (never on CAMERA)
She’ll eat anything
((And i will.
i hide cookies under the covers,
scarf stale cheerios i find in the cloakroom at school,
lick clean the foil of easter eggs fallen and forgotten then found
again in november or worse.
in this moment
[FREEZE]
i am {still} caught))
[ROLL TAPE]
INT. SAME KITCHEN - THREE WOMEN ALONE
Stepmother, sister, and me lined up at the counter, music on vinyl piped in through the door, we wash and dry dishes.
((by hand.
everything in this house, his ritual
dolls to his bending,
we play it out))
INTERCUT LYRICS
THE ANIMALS
We gotta get out of this place,
if it’s the last thing we ever do
((this family a fiefdom,
this anthem our song))
THE ANIMALS
Girl, there’s a better life
for me and you
((and there is.
and in it i’m no longer “the big one”.
i am determined to never draw notice
again. what i need—what i know—what calls
in this {every} moment is the safe loving comfort
of {built to hurt} rules))
The fallacy of restoration is that there is a safe
you can strip the world back to,
a perfect BEFORE.
That he can,
with wire brush and varnish backhand and biting
[ed: i’m not ready.
don't tell them!]
make us perfect,
make him perfect,
undo {his} {my} damage done. That I can,
steadfast and disciplined, eat
of myself until my offal’s unfouled.
That this exposed brick can save us.
That , hold in the right
moments, caulk desperation under restraint—
seal every crack in this brittle spackle
held need.
we could, he could
i could?
((if i hold these reins tighter
fold myself under
put his/your/my children’s needs first
if i run and keep running
love without taking
beat you to the beating
beg beg beg
your forgiveness
for my failure for being
not enough, for not healing
{for feeding} the rot at your core))
push back from this table
((he might love me
i might love me
rewrite my history
edit the screenplay
write us all loved))
[ed: careful, girl, you almost put you first
safe foods and save face
you know the deal]
sated and whole
[FREEZE]
[CUT]
[START OVER]
VOICE (DIRECTOR - WOUND UP & WEARY) (OFF
CAMERA)
wipe the stage. start again
[ed: aren’t you tired, my love?
I’m so tired. let’s just tell the truth]
It begins in an apartment on Bathurst, an apartment at Jane & Finch. It begins in St. Michael’s Hospital & a cabin off Highway 11. It begins with a girl and a boy who won’t know each other. It begins with two sets of parents who drink & fight and fuck & drink & fight & fuck again, & ‘love’ each other & stay together forever. It begins on a smooth rock. It begins on a train. It begins on a boat crossing an ocean. It begins with a war. It begins in a garden. It begins with a fall.
It begins with one father
and another
So say we all