WE’RE GONNA MAKE YOU WHOLE

by Yasmine Van Wilt

We’re Gonna Make You Whole was first performed at the Acquire Arts in Battersea, London on 10 August 2011.

This play is based on the true-life testimonies of Louisiana residents who were affected by a major petrochemical disaster. CURTIS LAFONTAINE is in his late twenties/early thirties. He worked on the oil rig when it exploded and has been affected physically and emotionally. He is, however, unable to claim significant compensation because he signed a waiver presented to him immediately after the accident when he was still in a state of shock. In this scene, he is being interviewed about his experiences for a local news programme.

CURTIS

Well…I woke up to an explosion. I turned and I sat at the edge of ma bed. I’m… And the force – clear threw me across my room – into the fire-rated doors. These are three-inch thick, steel-doors…and it clear knocked me out. When I came to, smoke was already eating into the room and…I was bleeding from…what I know now was my head. And it was…thick, like pudding – just coming down into my eyes. I finally managed to get out onto the deck of the rig. Where I got slammed again by flying debris – clear knocked me to the floor below. And at this point, there are petroleum cans, and greasers, and all sorts of things which we use…every day to keep our systems ticking. And they were all exploding, like the most intense fire-crackers you could imagine. It was like… it was like…Baghdad on the deck… When I finally managed to make my way down to the derrick – to the fire station – it was consumed by fire, it was like… I knew there was no way we were gonna put that out. I knew we should abandon the rig…

…

I was still kinda in shock. The main thing going through my head was – we’re all dead. There’s no way we’re getting’ off here. As we were getting our gear on…we saw the crane operator get knocked forty, fifty feet from the derrick, clean to the bottom of the deck. (Beat.) We dressed out as fast as – We started trying to make our way over to get him…and flames surrounded us in every direction…and there was no way we could get him. (A pause.) We…I…had to leave him.

…

(He gulps. He clears his throat. He is nearly sweating he is so distressed…) It was…the worst…thing I’ve ever had to do. It haunts me today… I can’t stop asking myself…is there any other way I coulda gotten over there?

A pause.

…

I mean…you know, it burns a hole inside you, losing one of your own… But, we know it’s…part of what we’re trained to expect…part of – what we know could happen. Losing someone we’re meant to protect. Somehow it’s worse. And it ain’t like – they was just members of the public. Losing someone is never easy… it always feels like you’ve failed – But on a rig – you’re a family. Eighteen hours a day, every day… you ain’t got your wife and kids around, you got – your… (He falters, for lack of a better word.)… people become –

…

Well…when it came down to the day. The actual fire. Nothing went like it was supposed to. There were…problems in the engine room. The blowout preventer… That’s supposed to – well stop a blowout – and to isolate the rig – and that didn’t work, obviously. And then, also, none of the fire-safety mechanisms worked either. So, basically, all the things which were meant to keep us safe, turned on us… It was just us men – fighting that fire, with basic equipment.