A Last, Lingering Kiss.

A Play of one act, one set.

Characters..:

Sgt. Tom Flannigan..police officer.

Father Dennis McCarthy…diocese priest.

Sister Mary Margaret..School Principal / Nun.

Scene: Sgt. Tom Flannigan sits at his work desk cataloguing a charge sheet along with a low stack of books that he transfers to a plastic evidence bag. Before he seals the bag, he picks up one of the books, opens it at a random page and starts to read out in an exaggerated theatrical manner..
Sgt. Tom..:” I can’t stop now!” she gasped a passionate moan as her arms reached for him..” I’ve desired you for too many nights.”…He responded huskily, his taut, muscular arms embracing her and driving out all resistance. It was as if some strange, torrid tempest had suddenly descended down on to their bodies as they struggled to outdo one another in the removal of their clothing. He grasped her in his arms and lifted her clear of the carpet, his lips parted and he moaned as he buried his face in her soft, ample, velvet-like breasts.

“Ohh, Brendon!” she cried, surrending her body to his firm, impatient maleness. “ Hold me”..she quivered.

“You’re trembling”, he whispered…”

(Sgt. Tom closes the book with a wince and sad hiss of breath. He hears wind and sees rain streak across the window..he gazes in silence at the rain-streaked glass).

Sgt. Tom..: “ Right on time…first solid rain of the season..Tim’ll be glad he finished seeding this mornin’ “

(His gaze moves from the window back to the book on the desk in front of him..He wearily picks it up and slips it into a clear plastic bag that contains a number of similar sized books..he then folds the top of the bag over and staples it closed..He then labels it while speaking out loud)

Sgt. Tom…: “ Evidence..stolen property..Crown vs Sr. Mary Margaret ; Principal / Teacher ; St. Joseph’s School. West Waylong…age 45 yrs.”

(He then holds the evidence bag and reads back over the label, he snorts when he comes to Sr. Mary Margaret’s status in the small country town and speaks out loud..)

Sgt. Tom..: “Principal teacher..also; Lay missionary, august leader of Sunday prayers, choir organiser / lead singer, cook, cleaner, dishwasher, bottle washer, big mother to all the God-fearing, God-hating lonely, poor, beaten, broken down and out bastards between Bourke and bloody Booleroo Centre…The “ear” to the community…God have pity on her”.

(He pushes the plastic bag away with an angry gesture and with a shiver of dismissal, reaches for the day’s mail…He is sifting through these when the phone on his desk rings).

Sgt Tom..: “ Hello?…Oh..hello Beth..What a lovely surprise..I wasn’t expecting a call from my beloved fiancé today”…Yes..all’s well here in remote downtown…and yourself?…What’s that?…oh..oh dear, well..that’s unfortunate….if you can’t make it this weekend, how about next?…Ah, yes…your mother..I see…Well my love..I WAS hoping to show you around the town and district this weekend…in the hope of persuading you to come and spend some time here with me…oh a month or so at a time…..yes, yes..your mother, your mother…pity about that..no, no…I don’t imagine she will improve at this stage of the disease..I’m sorry, I can’t come down right now, I have a rather delicate situation here which requires me to deal with in person tomorrow…no, I can’t really say, except I have to interview an accused and to then transcribe the interview from tape recorder to paper copy to submit to the prosecutor for consideration…yes..a rather delicate matter…..well, look, Beth, I better go now and get prepared for it…Yes, Yes..I do love you Beth..with all my heart..(He picks up the evidence bag of trashy novels and thinks..then improvises theatrically as in the novels) ..” Yoru eyes are as a shining moon…your lips as rich as ripe cherries…!..what?…no ..I haven’t been drinking…certainly…say hello to dear ol’ mum for me too if you will..I’ll catch you later, my love…kiss, kiss!”…

(He gingerly replaces the receiver, grits his teeth and taps both sets of fingers on the desktop…he again pushes the bag of novels away from himself as if they were infected..)

Sgt. Tom..: “ Well, that was a mistake ( he points to the trashy novels) that’s the last time I’ll take YOUR advice…heavens knows what Sr. Margaret saw in them..oh well…Rule number one..: Never confuse the laws of state with the laws of sentiment.”

(He stands and angrily pulls on the light string to throw the stage in darkness.)

(The stage lights up to show a new day..Sgt. Tom Flanigan enters the room, already seated at the table are Fr. Dennis McCarthy and Sr. Mary Margaret. Tom sits down, turns on a tape recorder and speaks into it.)

Sgt Tom..: “Interview with Sr. Mary Margaret, accused of stealing six paperback novels from the Criterion Book Shop, Main St. , West Waylong…present, Sgt. Thomas Flannigan, Father Dennis McCarthy for the diocese and Sister Mary Margaret, accused….questioning..Sgt. Tom Flannigan.”

Sgt. Tom..: “ Sr. Margaret..were you in The Criterion Book Shop last Friday afternoon?”

Fr. McCarthy..: “You answer the questions best you feel, Sister.”

Sr. Margaret..: “ Thank you for that valuable advice, Dennis…To your question Sgt…yes I was there.”

Sgt. T..: “While you were there did you pick up this book (shows paperback) A Last Lingering Kiss?”

Sr. M..: “ Yes, I did.”

Sgt. T..: “ You were then seen to place this book in your bag and walk out of the shop…did you intend to steal it?”

Fr. McC..: “ Now Sister, keep in mind you have not yet been charged with any misdemeanour, so you don’t…Sgt.(Fr. McC. turns to address Sgt T)….I’ve had a call from Monsignor, he has suggested, not without a considerable amount of thought on the subject..keeping in mind the age of Sister Margaret and that troubling time of life for women of that age, maybe (he glances to Sr. Margaret) a touch of..remiss..brought on by the stress of menopause?”

Sgt. T..: “ Do you wish to comment on that, Sr.?”

Sr. M…: “ I’d rather retain what little dignity I have left than to respond to…to Monsignor’s…er, imaginative suggestion.” (she crosses hands on top of desk).

Sgt. T..: “ Then I’ll ask again…Did you intend to steal the book?”

Sr. M..: (turns askance ashamedly…then looks directly at the Sgt) “Yes”.

Fr. McC…: ( Groans out loud.)

Sgt. T…: “ These other books were voluntarily given in by you…did you intend to steal these also?”

Sr. M. (breathes deeply)”Yes sergeant, I did.”

Fr. McC. “Why Sister, Why?”

Sr. M. “Because Dennis , of a reason I very much doubt you would understand! neither you nor the Monsignor!”

Fr. McC. “It goes beyond all rational thought, Sister, that you, in particular, could have the slightest interest in these…these trashy productions!”

Sgt.T..: “Fr. McCarthy, I am at this time trying to establish the plea of the accused, I am not looking for whys and wherefores…Do you Sr. Margaret, admit to the theft of the aforementioned books?”

Sr. M…:(Takes a deep breath)”Yes, Sergeant ,I do.”

Fr. McC…: “You do realise, Sister, where this places us, the church, in the eyes of the community?”

Sr. M…: (heatedly)” Oh damn the community!….( Fr. McCarthy leaps to his feet) and damn you Dennis and damn the Monsignor and double damn the damn Church!”

Fr. McC…: “Are you gone mad ,Sister, are you mad?”( Sgt T. grasps Fr. McCarthy by the arm and sits him back down).

Sgt. T..: “I must ask you , Fr. to restrain yourself, you are here only as a supporting representative of the diocese so please restrict your comments to that role….and I remind you, Sister, that all you say can and will be considered as evidence…”

Sr. M…:  ”Oh shut up Tom!…(She stands with fists pressed on table )and you Dennis!….both of you….shut up!…Are you blind? can’t you see we are all of us here in the same situation? (Fr. McC and Sgt T. remain silent)..all obliged to serve an institution….an unforgiving, blind institution!…and..and a so called infernal “COMMUNITY!” that denies us any right to a life of our own..no!, don’t you interrupt me Tom Flannigan, I know all about your last marriage, you lost that because of the hours you spent on the job rather than with your family. The police force demanded it. The community demanded it .and you’ll be lucky now if you get a second chance with your current fiancé.. and you ,Dennis, how many more years before the bottle claims your soul?…ah! don’t deny it, I know you only too well.. it’s written all through your eyes.. and those “retreats” to dry out down by the coast..We’re all three of us damned to play a set-piece for the Community, the Law and the Church. Certainly, we are all expected to do our jobs..for which we are paid to do…but it is the extracurricular volunteer work we must do in our own time that is a necessity to make even the most rudimentary of our situations practicable to achieve…THAT is the tyranny of the needs of the community.. (she sits wearily down)…Oh how I longed desperately to be able to go home at night sometimes to children of my own…a man …of my own, be him hopeless, be him ugly , but be him human…just human… rather than the dried out sanctimonious wafflings of the writings of a “holy book”!…(she pauses, stares blankly ahead, speaks quietly, slowly) do you have any idea how empty a sound, is the parched, crisp, turning of the pages of a prayer book in the quiet of an evening always alone? (she turns slowly to each of the other two) …yes..yes,I suspect you do..
The three of us have committed social crimes here, only my crime is the more visible….I haven’t neglected a family, nor tippled with the altar-wine…I am guilty of a crime of passion….I have tried to steal a modicum of illusion of fantasy….of lust with a man.”

(there is a moment’s silence as they gathered their thoughts)

Fr. McC. “But why steal the books? Why didn’t you just buy them?”.

Sgt.T..: ” Yes Sister, why did you steal them?”.

Sr. M. (sighs, leans back in the chair )”Looking back on it, I could say I don’t know..the first one was an accident…I slipped it into my bag absent mindedly as I picked up another thing I wanted to buy…but when I discovered the error later, I stayed silent..why?..; a kleptomaniac impulse….a thrill? no, not a thrill I think rather, it was a part of the desire, to steal a moment of lust, a taboo integral component of the hunger…a hunger for the passion I did not, could not have…I do believe as we grow from the child to the adult, each of us seeks that love..that particular love, most denied…perhaps we are all assigned a set amount of little crimes in this life…alongside our everyday duties, little grubby crimes, along with the humdrum of responsibility and rules..and when we step outside of that regular pattern into the more shady area of our deeds, we must accept a completely different set of rules..”Oh what wicked webs we weave…”(a bitter laugh)….I fought with myself for years against the desires…like you, Dennis with the bottle..and you Tom with the duties of the police officer in a little country town but when can one stop?…can one stave off forever the natural impulse to drop the facade of religion. of law and order?…some can…I couldn’t…anymore…I desired a passionate embrace from a man (she leans forward over the table and speaks slowly) Gentlemen,…I too, wanted a moment of being desired!..how I envied Magdalene her Christ.. and these trashy books were as close as I was going to come to it in this God-forsaken place!…in this God-forsaken church in my own human forsaken life!..I suspect the most misunderstood component of a normal life is the complexity and intricacy embedded in such normality.”

(The three of them sit silently staring ).

Sgt. Tom..: “Interview terminated….”

(The light dims to out on stage…then after a few moments, slowly lights up again to reveal only the Sgt at his desk…Sr. Margaret comes over from the side of the stage).

(Sgt.Tom Flannigan glances up from his desk in the office to meet the eyes of Sister Mary Margaret. He stood to receive her proffered hand.)

Sr. M..: “Just to say cheerio, Tom…and wish you luck…I am leaving today.”

Sgt. T..:“Thanks sister…thank you and yourself.” (he fumbles with the biro in his hand ,then dropped it casually on the table.) “What…what will happen to you?”

(Sr. M. laughs softly).

Sr. M..: “Oh,…it’s a big institution; the church…I’ll be swallowed up in it somewhere, and after a little penance….I’ll become anonymous once again.. slowly ,I trust, the desire for the human touch will be “cleansed” from my soul.. like Dennis’s liver..( another chuckle)….and you ,Tom.?”

Sgt. T. :“Me!…oh, I’ll just….just carry on as usual I ‘spose.. hmm…. look, Sister, I know they are going to prosecute this case in the city, so I won’t be seeing you again….I want you to know that I erased that last part of the interview the three of us had.. I didn’t see it as relevant to the case and I don’t suppose it would have interested the people at headquarters ”

Sr. M..:“Yes, I expect you are right, Tom, there are some aspects of the lives of our community leaders that are best left in illusion (she chuckles again)..a bit like a trashy romance. Well,Tom, goodbye.” (they shake hands).

Sgt. Tom..: “Cheerio, Sister, cheerio.”