Bang Bang Bang (10 page)

A small
CHILD
is screaming.
VIN
is taking a photograph of the
CHILD
. The
CHILD
tries to get away but seems pinned to the spot.

VIN
follows her face with his camera.

CHILD. The Gun, The Gun, The Gun, The Gun, The Gun.

VIN. Hey, little one. It's a camera.

Camera?

I'm taking a photograph.

Je prends ta photo?

You want to have a look?

Hey, don't cry, kid.

I'm sorry.

I can show you.

Hey. Shush. Shush.

Kid? Can you stop crying please?

You'll get me in trouble.

Kid? Please?

He turns his camera around to view the images.

See. I can show you.

The
CHILD
runs away.

Shit.

He looks back at the images on his camera.

SADHBH. What the fuck are you doing?

VIN. Listen – sorry – I didn't mean to –

MATHILDE
and
MAMA CAROLINA
enter.

SADHBH. You are not allowed to photograph or talk to the children without Mama Carolina's permission. The last time they had something pointed at them it was a gun. They're traumatised. / You just can't behave like that.

MATHILDE. Hey, Sadhbh – he / didn't mean to –

MAMA CAROLINA. Why have you upset the children?

VIN. Hey, Mama, / I didn't mean to.

MAMA CAROLINA. My name is not Mama. I am Mama Carolina.

SADHBH. Ask permission if / you want pictures.

MATHILDE. This is a misunderstanding –

MAMA CAROLINA.
Prends ton appareil et va-t-en. Va-t-en !

MATHILDE. Sorry, Mama Carolina –

VIN. Okay. I'll just go then.

SADHBH. Fuck off. / Go on. Fuck off.

MATHILDE. Cool it, Sadhbh.

VIN. Keep your hair on. I didn't mean / to upset anyone.

VIN
gathers his equipment and moves away to pack up.

MAMA CAROLINA.
Pourquoi parles-tu comme ça, Sadhbh? On est devant les enfants, quand même?

Now – please – we are waiting for you.

She exits.

SADHBH. Sorry, Mama Carolina.
Pardonne-moi. En moment.

SADHBH
and
MATHILDE
are left alone together.

He's an idiot.

MATHILDE. I'm sorry. It's not my fault.

SADHBH. It is your fault. You brought this guy. He's sleeping in your bed. Suddenly we're responsible for his security – Janvier is / not his chaffeur.

MATHILDE. I'm sorry but no, Sadhbh.

He is taking truthful pictures. / Powerful pictures.

SADHBH. How can you say that? You know him for about five minutes! The guy only cares to makes a name for himself.

MATHILDE. And so what if he can make people look?

SADHBH. He asked Mama Carolina to show him the raped children? / It's not on.

MATHILDE. What do you want me to do?

SADHBH. He can't stay with us any longer.

MATHILDE. What will he do?

SADHBH. I don't know. It's not my problem.

Why is that my problem?

MATHILDE. It's becoming unsettled just beyond Masisi.

Outbreaks of violence in the hills. There are rumours / in the camp.

SADHBH. Tell him to collect his stuff. I'll arrange security back to Goma.

MATHILDE. The room at the compound is my own, is it not?

SADHBH. It is.

MATHILDE. So – in fact – it's not your business.

SADHBH. You could say that.

MATHILDE. I think your hormones are making you very aggressive.

SADHBH. Fuck the hormones – I am aggressive.

Pause.

I'm sorry if I'm being harsh but we're trying to build up the kids' trust here. / That's the most important thing.

MATHILDE. I understand – of course I know this. Why do you always talk to me like I'm stupid?

SADHBH. I don't. / Mathilde?

MATHILDE. Yes. Yes. Yes. We all can't be like you! Without a life.

You'll have to start without me.

Vin?

SADHBH
shakes her head and moves away.

VIN
approaches
MATHILDE.

VIN. Hey. Sorry. (
Takes her hand.
)

MATHILDE. Not now.

VIN. I've no way of getting back to the compound. What does she –

MATHILDE. Don't take pictures of the kids around here.

This is her territory.

VIN. I've taken / barely anything.

MATHILDE. She's being totally unreasonable.

VIN. Bit of a boot.

MATHILDE (
giggles
). Shush.

VIN
kisses
MATHILDE.

VIN. If I'm going to show stuff it's got to be serious work.

Hey – that letter you told me about.

The invitation from Colonel Mburame.

If I could get a portrait of him –

MATHILDE. That sounds like a really bad idea.

VIN. He sent her a cow, didn't he?

And she said he was perfectly civilised.

MATHILDE. No. She said he gave her tea.

VIN. Exactly.

And I know just how to do it.

Him on a chair. Staring down the barrel of the lens.

Bam.

I'll whack the picture off to Reuters as soon as.

MATHILDE. Vin.

VIN. Come on.

I'll borrow one of the cars and go early in the morning. In fact, Janvier can take me. He'll know where to go. We'll be there and back before anyone's up.

MATHILDE. Vin. There are nine hundred and seventy-eight men, women and children living in shit here. The serious work is in front of you.

Now

Do as she says. Fuck off. Take pictures.

They kiss. The light fades.

Six

We hear gunfire and chaos as in the Prologue.

As the light fades on the scene we hear the Prologue scene dialogue through a walkie-talkie radio.

There are shouts of panic.

The door is kicked. Once. Twice.

SADHBH.
Mon Dieu, pitié.

SOLDIER.
La ferme!

SADHBH.
Je m'appelle Sadhbh, et ça c'est Mathilde.

Nous avons de l'argent. Beaucoup des dollars.

Je vous en prie!

MATHILDE.
Nous avons des cigarettes.

SADHBH.
Je vous en prie. Prenez tout.

SOLDIER.
Mettez vous par terre. Tout de suite. Accroupies.

SADHBH.
Nous avons du whisky. Prenez-le. Prenez –le, buvez le avec vos enfants.

SOLDIER.
Déshabillez-vous.

MATHILDE.
Non, non, je vous en prie. Nous sommes mariées, nous sommes mères.

SOLDIER.
Déshabillez-vous.

MATHILDE.
Non, non, non.

SADHBH.
Je peux vous donner l'argent.

Nous avons presque quatre mille dollars.

Prenez-les. C'est pour vous.

Dieu vous pardonnera, si vous partez maintenant.

SOLDIER.
Je prends l'argent.

Je prends les téléphones.

Je prends tout.

Et, ensuite, je vais terminer le boulot.

MATHILDE
starts to cry.

On ne vous entend pas.

Personne ne vous écoute.

The shadows close in.

Seven

A bar. Goma.

Sweltering heat. Blinding sun and blue sky.

RONAN
is interviewing
SADHBH
. He has a recording device but also takes notes on his Mac.

She fans herself with her hat. She is bruised and sore.
RONAN
is drinking a Primus beer.
SADHBH
is drinking a Coke.

RONAN
shows her the recording device.

RONAN. Okay?

SADHBH. If you must.

RONAN. This attack on your compound must have been traumatic –

SADHBH. I investigate war crimes and crimes against humanity committed by some dangerous individuals and that inevitably means I step on a lot of toes.

I've received death threats – the odd brick though the door.

It's par for the course.

After nearly eight years here – I felt I'd the measure of the Congolese. Obviously falsely so.

RONAN. Can you tell me what happened? Is that okay, Sadhbh?

Just tell me the story in your own time.

SADHBH. 6 a.m. Tuesday – our compound came under attack by rebel combatants.

RONAN. You've been ruffling the feathers of Jerome Mburame.

SADHBH. They were not wearing identifiable uniforms.

RONAN. It's the most likely –

SADHBH. There is no evidence, Ronan.

Not a shred to say Tutsi, Hutu, Mai Mai. Mburame.

It was violence. A way of life here.

I could give your readers a lecture on violent practices introduced under colonialism, but I reckon you want something short and pithy.

Pause.

RONAN. Your security guard was killed.

SADHBH. Janvier Nizaine – I've known him for –

She stops for a moment unable to speak.

And a young British journalist Vincent Holman.

We think the attackers followed him on his return to the compound. They shot him in the arm when he didn't have the $100 they were demanding.

RONAN. His injuries are serious but not life threatening.

SADHBH. That's what I've heard too.

He and another colleague who suffered a serious assault were flown to Joburg.

I escaped with minor injuries.

RONAN. A fractured rib – severe bruising?

Not at / all minor.

SADHBH. I'm okay. Really. I'm okay.

RONAN. The serious assault.

This happened to your colleague Mathilde Rolla.

She suffered a sexual assault.

SADHBH. What? Switch that thing off.

RONAN. Sure. Are you okay?

SADHBH. Jesus, Ronan. Come on. I can't talk about that.

We agreed.

He stops recording.

RONAN. Everyone knows about it, Sadhbh –

SADHBH. No way.

RONAN. People should know about the kind of danger you're exposed to out here.

SADHBH. It's not my story to tell.

Why would I tell / you about it?

RONAN. But it is your story.

Silence.

I want to give you a chance to give your account of the attack. There are so many rumours.

SADHBH
shakes her head.

SADHBH. There are always rumours in Congo.

Radio trottoir. ‘Radio of the pavement.'

SADHBH
passes her hand across her forehead. She is feverish.

RONAN. Do you want to stop for a minute?

Take a break? You say.

SADHBH. On the record. For the benefit of your readers.

He resumes recording…

Go to Google and look up ‘humanitarian worker, human rights defender'. You'll find articles that include kidnapping, injury, robbery, rape, shooting, murder. The threat to safety and security is very real.

Of course you want to make a difference but you don't do this job for the recognition and you definitely don't do it for the money.

It's serious stuff.

Pause.

I'm done.

RONAN
stops recording.

RONAN. Are you okay? You're very pale.

SADHBH. The heat is something else.

RONAN. Are you heading back to London this evening?

SADHBH
nods.

SADHBH. I'll be home in time for the ten o'clock news tomorrow night.

RONAN. Can I get you another drink? A water?

SADHBH. Not for me.

RONAN. What are you going to do? Will you come back to Congo?

SADHBH. I don't know.

Pause.

Courage is a bit like a bank balance.

Debit too much and you go in the red.

I'm in the red.

RONAN
stretches out his hand to
SADHBH.

RONAN. Can I quote you on that?

SADHBH. No.

RONAN. I'm always afraid here.

Can't fucking wait to get back to Dublin.

I've never really understood your attachment to Congo.

Poor Sadhbh. You thought you were untouchable here.

SADHBH. I'm not going to be your
New York Times
story and you're pissed off, Ronan.

RONAN. Not at all. I'm amazed at your reluctance to talk. This is a victim-based account of a crisis. / Surely it's what you do day in and day out here?

SADHBH. I'm not a victim.

RONAN. You've become a victim of the very thing you're investigating. But if you're going to stand in the line of fire –

SADHBH. Stop. Just stop there, Ronan.

RONAN. I'm sorry, Sadhbh. I'm really desperately sorry for what has happened to you.

SADHBH. I know your angle.

I guess a raped humanitarian will get many more inches than a raped eight-year-old Congolese girl. Where were you when fifty-three women and girls were raped in Masisi?

Or is that too much of a norm to appear in the
New York Times
?

RONAN. We're locked into a relationship whether you like it or not.

You give me a story. I bring it to the public.

You get focus on Congo.

Your organisation gets more recognition.

Mutual responsibility, Sadhbh.

SADHBH. Screw you.

I want to see a copy of this article before it goes to print.

SADHBH
stands up.

RONAN. You've been through a hell of an ordeal.

I knew that little chancer who was shot too.

It's a shock – you know – Jesus – it's a shock. I'm just saying –

For all of us –

They look at one another.

There but for the grace of –

What's that?

SADHBH. What?

There is a small pool of blood on the chair.

RONAN. The blood.

SADHBH. That's me. That's me, isn't it?

Eight

Ireland.

Brennan's Bar. Donegal.

Five months later.