Act II
It is a few minutes later. An overhead spotlight tightly frames the fabulous white fur coat, carelessly thrown over a kitchen chair. The silhouettes of Anne, Barb, and Rodney are seen, each standing alone in this uncomfortable kitchen. Barb's hand is reaching towards the coat. The action is frozen except for Rodney.
RODNEY:
Well, she's here. Grace the memory has become Grace the woman. And what a woman. She may be everything Barb feared and everything Anne hoped for. Not a good mixture for the likes of this family. Look at Barb reaching for that coat. Anne hasn't said a word since Grace got here five minutes ago. And here I am in the middle of this whole incredible spectacular reunion. It just goes to prove how stupid I am.
Barb's hand moves towards the coat and as it reaches into the light, we hear the loud enthusiastic flushing of a toilet, and the 60-watt reality of the kitchen is restored. Barb backs away from the coat, like a child caught doing something naughty. She looks at her mother, who is staring off towards the bathroom, lost in a million thoughts. Water runs in the bathroom sink. Barb takes a step towards Rodney, and their eyes meet. He looks at Anne, then towards the bathroom. Barb approaches the coat again and touches it, letting her palms run over the soft, beautiful fur. The running water has stopped. Barb picks up the fur coat as Janice enters from the bathroom, drying her hands. Barb looks like a fox caught with a rabbit in its mouth. She freezes. Janice looks at her carefully, then smiles.0
JANICE:
Would you like to try it on?
Anne, a bundle of nervous energy, quickly tries to finish tidying up. She grabs Barbs and Rodney's jackets, folded over a chair, and hangs them up neatly. She also moves a few more coats to make room on a peg for Janice's large fur coat.
BARB:
Me? No.
JANICE:
It would probably fit you.
BARB:
(nervously) No, no. I was just going to hang it up. We needed the extra chair and half of it was on the floor, and it's such a beautiful coat I didn't want it to get dirty.
Barb quickly tries to change the subject as she gives Anne the coat to hang up.
BARB:
How was the bathroom?
Barb winces at her stupid and nervous question.
JANICE:
Brisk.
BARB:
You mean cold. Yeah, we've been meaning to have that hole repaired, but we never seem to get around to it or have the money. You get used to it after a while. The cold, I mean.-It's been about twelve years for us. Having the hole. In the wall in the bathroom. Ever since Dad almost shot Mom.
Janice reacts with shock.
BARB:
I mean he didn't know she was on the toilet. He was outside cleaning his gun and saw this big rabbit by the house. Dad was about to shoot it when Nemush, that was our dog, came racing for it. The rabbit. Dad jerked the shotgun and hit the house. I mean he wouldn't ordinarily take a shotgun to a rabbit, but that's what he was cleaning at the time. Would have had strips of rabbit. Rabbit fingers. Anyway, the point is he nearly bagged Mom. Boy, did she scream. Damn near took her foot off. Mom was real mad.
Anne looks up briefly, then lowers her eyes.
BARB:
That's how the hole got there.
JANICE:
Quite a story.
BARB:
Quite a hole.
Rodney gently taps Janice on the shoulder. She turns and studies him intently.
RODNEY:
Urn, excuse me …
JANICE:
You're not my …
RODNEY:
No, no, just a friend. Rodney, the voice on the phone? Um, I thought you might want to know, your shoes are bleeding.
Janice looks at him, confused, then looks down at her red shoes, which are dripping red water.
ANNE:
Oh my goodness!
JANICE:
I can't believe it—they're Italian leather and the dye is running!
RODNEY:
Haemorrhaging is more like it.
JANICE:
I hope they won't stain your floor. They won't, will they? Oh I'm so sorry. Look at your floor.
Janice takes them off and turns around quickly, accidentally bumping Rodney with the shoes, leaving a red stain on his shirt. Rodney's hands instinctively come up to grab the shoes. Janice is horrified at what she's done and covers her mouth with her hand in shock.
JANICE:
Oh, I'm sorry.
She takes her hand away, leaving a red hand print on her face.
JANICE:
Let me clean that up.
She grabs a dishtowel from the table to wipe off Rodney's stain. Instead she succeeds in knocking the plate of bannock it was draped over, onto the chair. Reacting in surprise, Janice then knocks over the chair and it lands on Barb's foot. Bannock goes flying like buckshot and Rodney dodges it as Barb hops around holding her injured foot.
JANICE:
Shit.
Barb and Rodney instantly look towards Anne who politely pretends not to hear. The once magnificent Janice is now like the rest of them.
RODNEY:
You really are related to Barb.
JANICE:
I don't believe this is happening to me.
RODNEY:
I look like I've been shot, and we've been bombed by bannock.
ANNE:
Are you okay?
Barb nurses her bruised foot.
BARB:
Is she okay?
Anne tries to wipe the stain off Rodney's belly. Janice and Barb bend down to pick up the bannock and bump their heads. They nervously smile at each other as they gather bread together. Rodney, a red shoe in each hand, bangs them together three times.
RODNEY:
"There's no place like home, there's no place like home …"
ANNE:
(in Ojibway) Stop it, Rodney!
Chastised, Rodney puts the shoes down and dries his hands of the dye.
ANNE:
Grace, you sit down, and I'll get you something to wear.
Anne exits to get a pair of moccasins.
BARB:
Uh, you've got some dye on your face.
Janice, cringing in embarrassment, checks out her reflection in the nearest available shiny surface.
JANICE:
I don't believe this. You must all think I'm a complete idiot.
She walks back, having wiped most of the dye off. A little dab remains below her ear, hidden by her hair.
RODNEY:
(still fiddling with his shirt) Not a complete one. So how was the drive up?
JANICE:
Apart from that vicious snowbank out front? Uneventful, except I missed the turnoff. I'm not used to these small side roads. I found myself driving on this bumpy road through a very large field. I pulled over to ask this gentleman for directions. He told me to be quiet. I asked why. "Because I'm fishing" he said.
RODNEY:
It's a little early to be driving across Chemong Lake.
BARB:
You could have been drowned!
JANICE:
Drowned? I was driving on water?!
RODNEY:
You got guts, lady.
JANICE:
But the road …
BARB:
… turns into a snowmobile trail.
JANICE:
So that's why that man kept moving away from me and my car.
RODNEY:
Strange guy, walked with a limp, very thick glasses, seemed to be having a conversation with himself?
JANICE:
Yes, that's him. Is he the local eccentric?
Anne reenters the room.
RODNEY:
Sort of.
BARB:
He's also your cousin.
JANICE:
Perfect.
ANNE:
(she hands Janice the moccasins) Try these on.
JANICE:
Oh, they're beautiful. Look at that workmanship. Do these designs mean anything? Or perhaps the colours?
Barb decides to have some fun. She talks very seriously.
BARB:
Oh yes, they do. They refer to the four colours of man.
JANICE:
But aren't there five colours?
BARB:
Five colours? (Barb thinks fast) Oh, that's because the fifth colour represents the mixing of the races and …
ANNE:
Barb!
BARB:
Aw, Mom.
ANNE:
They're just flowers.
JANICE:
The smell is unusual.
ANNE:
That's from the tanning and smoking.
JANICE:
You smoke leather, like ham?
BARB:
Yeah, but ham's harder to wear.
Anne gives her a "shut-your-face" glare.
BARB:
(sighs) Yes, Mother.
Janice puts the moccasins on.
JANICE:
They fit.
BARB:
Mom makes them.
JANICE:
Your work is beautiful. This may sound … Oh, this is awkward. I'm afraid I'm not sure what I should call you. Mrs. Wabung? Anne?
ANNE:
Whatever you feel comfortable with.
BARB:
What about "Mom"?
Janice smiles, embarrassed. Anne gives Barb a stern look that wilts Barb.
ANNE:
(in Ojibway) Don't push her. Stay out of this!
BARB:
Yeah, okay. Hey, Rodney, let's go take care of that stain before it sets in. You two just … whatever.
Barb ushers Rodney off to a bedroom. There is a silence as both Anne and Janice struggle for something to say. Barb walks to the bathroom carrying Rodney's stained shirt.
RODNEY:
(off stage) But I'm cold.
BARB:
Just sit there and don't move.
Rodney's voice can be heard off stage.
RODNEY:
That's how I talk to my dog.
Barb notices Janice and Anne watching her.
BARB:
I'll be doing this in there. Bye.
Barb disappears into the bathroom. Anne notices the smudge of red under Janice’s ear.
ANNE:
You've still got some red on your face.
JANICE:
I thought I got it all. Where is it?
ANNE:
Here.
Anne grabs a cloth and moves towards Janice. She cups the opposite side of Janice's head with her hand, wets a small part of the cloth with her tongue, and wipes her face as if she were a child. The closeness to her long lost child begins to affect her. Her voice quivers, her heart is beating a mile a minute. Even though the job is all finished, she doesn't remove her hand. They stare into each other's eyes, and Anne slowly pit& Janice closer until they are hugging.
ANNE:
Grace …
Anne pulls back slightly, tears in her eyes, and a little embarrassed. Too much too soon.
ANNE:
So many questions for you. Thirty-five years of questions.
JANICE:
Me, too.
The millions of questions go through each of their minds, each trying to figure out the appropriate first one.
ANNE:
Where did you grow up?
JANICE:
In southern Ontario, London actually.
ANNE:
I've been there. Oh my, I could have passed you on the street. The people that raised you, what were they like?
JANICE:
They took me around the world.
ANNE:
Brothers? Sisters?
JANICE:
Two brothers.
ANNE:
Where were you in the family?
JANICE:
They are both older. Gregory's in Germany right now and Marshall lives in Vancouver.
ANNE:
Really, so far apart. Most of our family still live around here. Marshall and Gregory, huh? What was that other name you go by?
JANICE:
Janice.
ANNE:
That's a pretty name.
JANICE:
Thank you. I was named after my mother's grandmother. She was a—
ANNE:
You were named after Grace Kelly.
JANICE:
I beg your pardon?
ANNE:
Grace Kelly. You were named after Grace Kelly.
JANICE:
I was?
ANNE:
Rear Window was the first movie me and your father ever saw. You were born the year High Society came out. You were named after Grace Kelly.
JANICE:
Grace Kelly. Interesting.
ANNE:
I think she was one of the most elegant ladies I ever saw. I wanted my daughter to grow up just like her. Tall, beautiful, can look life in the face. And look. Look at you, Grace.
JANICE:
You've never seen me in the morning. I like her, too. What's your favourite movie of hers?
ANNE:
Oh High Noon for sure. I thought she was simply marvellous in it, just waiting around for Gary Cooper to get killed. Marvellous. Westerns have always been my favourites.
JANICE:
Even the ones where the Indians get killed?
ANNE:
Well, they weren't real Indians. What kind of movie do you like? Have you ever seen The Magnificent Seven with that bald-headed guy, what's-his-name?
JANICE:
Yul Brynner.
ANNE:
Yes, Yul Brynner.
JANICE:
A long time ago. But I prefer the original, Akira Kurosawa's The Seven Samurai. You know, with Toshiro Mifune. I find it a better, more complex film.
ANNE:
What year was it made?
JANICE:
Fifty-four. Why?
ANNE:
Must have missed that one in Peterborough. Maybe me and Barb will rent it sometime, The Seven Salmon Eyes?
JANICE:
(smiling) Samurai.
ANNE:
Samurai.
JANICE:
It's one of my mother's … favourite films. She had actually studied in Japan for a number of years just after the war.
ANNE:
She sounds like … an interesting woman.
JANICE:
Oh, she is. I owe her a lot.
ANNE:
I'd like to meet her.
Janice looks at her, surprised.
JANICE:
You would?
ANNE:
She's looked after my little girl all these years. Oh yes, I'd like to meet her. Oh, Grace, I gotta know. Are you married? Am I a grandmother?
JANICE:
Sorry, no children, though I haven't quite ruled them out. I was married for two years but that was a long time ago. Too much business, not enough breakfasts for Eric. He decided to go off and cook for himself.
ANNE:
He didn't like your cooking?
JANICE:
Not much time for cooking. Work keeps me busy.
ANNE:
A lawyer. My daughter the lawyer. Whatever made you become a lawyer?
JANICE:
It's a tradition in the Wirth family.
ANNE:
Do you enjoy it?
JANICE:
That was hardly an issue. Doing well was. It seems in the world of the white middle class, Indians have a reputation for doing things half assed.
ANNE:
Some people do think like that, don't they? But there's nothing you can do about people like that.
JANICE:
Oh yes, there is. Don't give them anything to be critical of. Be the best. Be untouchable. That's how you get ahead in this life. Even in private school, I tried for valedictorian, the best of the best. That June I wanted to be up there, on the stage, under the awning, while the other girls sat on the lawn getting sunburned.
ANNE:
And did you?
JANICE:
Came in second, and sunburned.
ANNE:
Second is good.
JANICE:
That's what my father said. But it wasn't good enough for me. If I'm in the system, I want to be in the system to win.
ANNE:
You sound like someone from "Dallas" or "Dynasty."
JANICE:
Yes, well, that's my life.
ANNE:
You sound so lonely. I guess it must have been difficult for you. Was school hard on you?
JANICE:
In some ways, not in others. On the volleyball team we were given nicknames to be put on our jackets. I was Pocahontas. At the time I thought it was funny. I always knew I was Indian, but it never actually meant anything to me. Just a fact of life, like being five foot seven. Then Meech Lake happened with Elijah Harper. And Oka. Suddenly everybody was asking me my opinion on this or that situation. They wanted the "Native perspective." But the only perspective I had was a suburban one. I started to wonder about my past, and the more questions I was asked, the more I had questions about myself. Finally, I had to know. I went to London, found the court I was processed in, got my adoption papers, contacted the Department of Indian Affairs, and they eventually told me what reserve I was from. I've had the information for a while. I was too … I guess frightened to call, then I saw your pictures in the paper about the lottery. Congratulations by the way. Once I saw your faces, I knew I had to call. To meet you. And here I am. That's my life in a nutshell.
Barb enters the kitchen.
BARB:
That's some nutshell. I was born, went to school in Lakefield, two years of business admin in Peterborough, got my first car at 20, lost my first car at 21. Maybe we better start talking about getting your car out of the snowbank.
JANICE:
Oh, my car! Is there a tow service or something? Someone I can call?
BARB:
As a matter of fact there is. Oh, Rodney darling.
Rodney enters.
RODNEY:
You rang, essence of my existence?
BARB:
(sweettalking) I was wondering if you'd like to do your favourite little Barb—
RODNEY:
Little?
Barb quickly tosses him his newly cleaned shirt.
BARB:
There's a car in the drift out there. Make yourself useful. Dig it out. Now.
RODNEY:
But—
BARB:
(almost yelling) Now!
RODNEY:
Okay, okay, no problem. I was looking for an exc— I mean something to do.
Rodney puts on his winter stuff
BARB:
He's so convenient.
RODNEY:
Keys, please.
Janice digs them out of the pocket of her coat.
ANNE:
Do you want to take your tea with you?
RODNEY:
If I have any more tea, I'll end up in a teatox centre. (he howls)
BARB:
Go!
Rodney opens the door and exits quickly. Anne pours Janice another cup of tea.
ANNE:
Oh, Grace, I have such wonderful things to show you. Just you sit there and drink your tea.
Anne exits the room.
Rodney is standing outside on the step of the house.
RODNEY:
As another great man once said, "Free at last, free at last, thank God I'm free at last!" But first Rodney Skywalker and his light shovel must do battle with the evil snowdrift empire.
He handles the shovel like a sword. Rodney, with a bit of a skip to his walk, heads off to do battle with the drift. Barb has taken her teacup and moved to the window to watch Rodney, and Janice follows.
JANICE:
So he belongs to you, huh?
BARB:
Not till he gets his shots. What a nut. He's playing Star Wars again.
JANICE:
How old is he?
BARB:
Chronologically? Twenty-five.
JANICE:
He's cute.
BARB:
So's a puppy.
Janice is amused. Barb plays with her teacup. There is an awkward silence.
JANICE:
Nice dress.
BARB:
Got it last year for New Year's. Yours is pretty, too.
JANICE:
Thank you.
BARB:
Silk, huh? Mine is, too, but it doesn't look like yours for sonic reason. Oh well, as Rodney says, it's all worm shit anyway.
Barb looks embarrassed but Janice laughs.
JANICE:
I guess.
BARB:
It goes wonderfully with your coat.
Janice gets up and walks towards her coat.
JANICE:
Come here.
BARB:
Huh?
JANICE:
I want to see how you'd look in my coat.
Barb is surprised.
BARB:
Your coat?
Janice holds her open coat out, beckoning Barb.
JANICE:
It won't bite. Try it.
Barb hesitantly gets up and with Janice's help tries the coat on. It feels and looks great on her. She revels in the moment. Janice admires.
JANICE:
You look wonderful.
BARB:
I feel wonderful. Can you imagine me walking into the band office with this on? Everybody would be so green with envy, they'd look like martians.
JANICE:
You should get one. You have the money now.
Barb thinks about it for a moment, then takes the coat off.
BARB:
Oh, I don't think so. Rod and I do a lot of spontaneous things, like snowball fights and stuff. Couldn't do things like that with this kind of jacket. Besides, people don't wear things like this on the reserve unless they catch the animals themselves. It's a little too flashy.
Barb hangs it back up on the peg.
BARB:
You have such a different life. It's like you have everything everybody on this reserve doesn't.
JANICE:
Well, I must confess, I did come hoping to impress.
BARB:
Well, you succeeded.
JANICE:
Perhaps too much?
BARB:
You're visiting people with a hole in their bathroom remember? You're something, boy.
JANICE:
How do you mean?
BARB:
Well. Okay, I gotta be honest. When you first called us, I had my apprehensions. The thing that tugged on the hair of my neck was you phoning the day after Mom and I got our lottery cheque. When you walked in that door, after getting out of that fancy car, wearing that beautiful coat of yours, part of me relaxed. I thought, She obviously don't need the money. She has enough of her own. But then another thought kept squirming around inside. Dad always said, "You can use fish to catch fish." You get my meaning? You have to use money to attract money. So there again, I was back in the same position.
JANICE:
And now? What do you think of me now?
BARB:
I'll let you know.
JANICE:
What do you plan to do with all that money?
BARB:
We don't know yet. Spend it, I hope.
JANICE:
Well, whatever you think of me, keep in mind there are people a lot slicker than I am out there. Money like that is a big responsibility.
BARB:
We'll survive.
Anne, a huge smile on her face, enters, her faith in her two daughters solid.
ANNE:
Here, Grace, I've got something to show you. You'll just love it.
Anne puts the albums down on the table with a thump.
JANICE:
Pictures?
ANNE:
Altogether you have 14 aunts and uncles, and too many cousins to count.
JANICE:
And they're all in there?
BARB:
Are you kidding? We have boxes under every bed and in every closet. Decades of family life and people that nobody ever looks at.
Anne opens up one of the multitude of books and starts leafing through it.
ANNE:
I look at them. Oh, look, this is your Aunt Erma. Her place is just four houses down. You must have passed it on the way. And over here is your cousin John and cousin Angela. They just got married last year.
JANICE:
Cousins!
BARB:
Relax. Different sides of the family. It gets confusing.
Anne is so busy and caught up in her adventure that she really isn't paying attention to what's being said. She continues pointing at photographs.
ANNE:
Oh, and look, the wedding reception. There's Uncle Leon, Buddy, and Michelle. And that's Gertrude. There's my favourite sister, Esther. I think you've got her nose.
JANICE:
Yes, but she has three of my chins.
ANNE:
There's James. Oh, you've got to meet Shelley. She's so funny. Janet, Heather, Donna, there's my nephew Bill.
JANICE:
Where does it stop?
BARB:
About next Tuesday.
Janice looks closely at one picture.
JANICE:
You missed him.
ANNE:
(less enthusiastic) Oh, that's Duanne. We don't like him. Remember that.
Janice, confused, turns towards Barb.
BARB:
I'll tell you later.
ANNE:
There's Eunice and her bunch. They live in Ottawa. That's Becky. She lives in Winnipeg. Michael works in Kingston. And Johnny is going to see if he can get a day parole. I'm bringing the whole bunch home for Christmas.
JANICE:
That should be a very special Christmas.
Anne looks at her daughter lovingly.
ANNE:
A very special one indeed. Now this album I like to call my Christmas album. I keep all the special pictures of this merry season in here. Look, here's Barb dressed up like Santa Claus.
BARB:
Aw, Mom …
ANNE:
And there's Barb as an elf.
BARB:
Mom!
ANNE:
Shh, dear. There's Barb as a reindeer.
Janice points to a particular picture that has caught her interest.
JANICE:
He's cute. Who is he?
The smile and enthusiasm drains from Anne. Barb looks uncomfortable.
JANICE:
I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?
Anne goes for tea.
BARB:
That's Paul.
JANICE:
Paul?
BARB:
Paul. My … our brother.
Janice is stunned. She looks at Barb to make sure she's not teasing her again, then studies the picture closely.
BARB:
He died five years ago. A stupid car accident.
Anne is silent by the teapot.
JANICE:
He looks like me. I've never known anyone who looked like me.
Anne, upset, leaves the room in tears. Janice looks worried. Barb has seen this before and is a little concerned.
BARB:
Don't worry, she gets this way, especially on his birthday or the anniversary of his death.
JANICE:
The anniversary … ?
BARB:
Yeah. Paul and Rodney were best friends, I mean the best. One night Rodney phoned from a bar in Lakefield. He was too drunk to drive. He asked Paul to pick him up and bring him home. Paul was pissed off but agreed. About that same time, this other guy, at that same bar, thought he could drive home. Rodney even saw this guy leave. Just past the turnoff, this guy hit Paul, head on. Rodney had to identify the body, and phone Mom.
JANICE:
Oh, God …
BARB:
Well, you can figure out how Mom took it. Rodney disappeared into the city. Since he came back, he started spending a lot of time around here, with Mom. Maybe he blames himself. I don't know. He won't talk about it.
JANICE:
What was Paul like?
BARB:
A big lovable goof, Paul was. You would have loved him. You really would have.
JANICE:
I'm mourning a person I didn't even know.
BARB:
Oh, you knew him. You look like him. When you walked in that door, I'm sure Mom's heart stopped. Mine almost did. And you have his drive, that's for sure. Except with him it was sports. Had to be the best hockey and baseball player in the village. It scares me in a way, the similarities.
Janice closes the book and sits back, solemn.
JANICE:
Is he buried near here?
BARB:
About half a mile down the road.
Janice looks towards Anne's bedroom, a worried expression on her face.
JANICE:
What about Anne?
BARB:
In a moment she'll come out and try to change the subject. Just go along with her. It makes things easier.
JANICE:
I wasn't expecting this.
BARB:
Neither were we.
As if on cue Anne enters, smoothing out her dress.
ANNE:
Oh my, I'm sorry. I'd forgotten to turn off the iron in my room.
BARB:
I was just telling Janice about our little house. How old is it, Mom? Almost a hundred years old, eh? Can you believe it? My great-grandfather built it. Do you like it?
Barb urges Janice on.
JANICE:
Oh yes, it reminds me of our summer cottage a bit.
BARB:
Really? How?
JANICE:
Both take a hell of a long time to get to. Both are by a lake, and both feel wonderfully homey. We love it there. But I don't get up much any more.Both take a hell of a long time to get to. Both are by a lake, and both feel wonderfully homey. We love it there. But I don't get up much any more.
Janice takes her prompting from Barb.
JANICE:
How long have you lived here?
BARB:
Mom's been here all her life. Altogether, about five generations of our family have lived within these walls.
JANICE:
I felt a strong sense of family the moment I stepped in. The place smells of home.
ANNE:
Smells? My place smells?
JANICE:
No, no, no. I didn't mean it like that.
ANNE:
Maybe it's the goose. Could be the Pine Sol.
BARB:
Mom's very thin-skinned about her home. It's very personal to her.
Janice wanders around the kitchen.
JANICE:
As well it should be. A home can tell so much about the people in it. And it's not so much the big things you can get in any department store. I always like knowing about the little things, the everyday things, investigating the nooks and crannies of a place. They're what make a house a home. Like these marks on the wall. I bet there's a story there.
Barb looks nervously at her mother.
BARB:
Not really.
JANICE:
Oh.
ANNE:
Go ahead. Tell her. I'll be all right.
Keeping an eye on Anne, making sure she'll be okay, Barb joins Janice by the marks.
BARB:
You sure, Mom? (Anne nods) Those lines are a record of me and Paul growing up. Ever since we could stand, Mom would stand us up on our birthdays, and mark our height. The blue marks are Paul, the pink ones are me. If you look closely you can see the dates.
Anne nods. Janice bends over and examines them carefully.
JANICE:
Paul kept growing till he was 18. That's old.
BARB:
Yeah.
Janice places her back against the wall and measures herself; comparing her height to the marks on the wall.
JANICE:
How about that? Just four inches shorter than him. I should be on this wall.
ANNE:
You weren't old enough to stand. Paul could stand at 10 months, Barb at 11.
JANICE:
(almost to herself) It's not fair.
BARB:
Who said life was fair?
JANICE:
Do you have any more pictures of him? Any at all?
Anne points to the wall of pictures.
ANNE:
Up there, on the end.
Janice goes to the picture and stares intently at it.
JANICE:
God, he looks so much like me. And these other pictures?
Janice moves over to look at the other pictures.
ANNE:
Other family.
JANICE:
Some of them are very old.
ANNE:
Some. The one on the right is my grandparents.
JANICE:
Grandparents … And this? Who's this chubby little thing sitting on the big fellow's knee?
ANNE:
It's you. And the man is your father, my Frank.
Janice's breathing is suddenly uneven. She makes an effort to breathe steadily, as fa long even breath will calm her emotions.
JANICE:
My father … Dad. (Anne nods) That's what he looked like. He was … um … very handsome.
ANNE:
Yes, I know.
JANICE:
It said in the article in the paper that you were widowed. Meeting the two of you was all I could think of, I barely thought about … Look at his eyes! I'd like a copy of it if I may, and the other one.
ANNE:
They're the only ones I got.
JANICE:
I'll have them copied. He looks so happy. Trustworthy. And there I am on his knee. His hands look so big on me. (she takes an unsteady sip of her tea) What did he do to make them take me away?
Barb and Anne look at each other, confused.
ANNE:
What do you mean?
JANICE:
Well, obviously I was taken away for some specific reason. Was it alcohol? I'm sorry for asking so bluntly but you don't grow up a duck in a flock of geese and not wonder why. If it's not too much trouble, I wouldn't mind knowing why.
There is an uncomfortable silence.
ANNE:
It will only make you angry.
JANICE:
I've been angry for almost 35 years. This might stop the anger.
ANNE:
My poor child.
JANICE:
My mother used to say that. I need to know, Anne. I need—somewhere inside—I really need to know why I was put up for adoption. I'm an adult. Please give me the truth.
ANNE:
Cuz we were Indians. Things were different way back then. A lot different.
JANICE:
(fighting for control) I'm sorry, but that's just not good enough!
BARB:
Hey, lady, we weren't even made citizens of our own country until 1960.
JANICE:
I know but …
BARB:
You don't know what it was like. I don't know what it was really like. None of us young people do. White people were always telling our people what to do, how to live, and if they didn't do it properly or broke the rules, they got punished. They got punished.
JANICE:
The poor Indians.
BARB:
Can the attitude, lady.
JANICE:
I am sick and tired of the "poor Indian" mentality. Somebody or something is always against them and I'm sick of it. I'm tired of explaining motives and drives that frankly I don't understand. If we are such a proud people then I find it hard to believe that every misfortune Indian people have suffered can be traced back to some malevolent white man. I'm to understand there's no such thing as a bad Indian. I'm sorry. But I don't buy it.
ANNE:
I suppose somebody somewhere had reasons for taking you away from us, and before I die I hope to understand them. But don't you for a moment think that it was because we didn't love you. When you were barely two months old, I got the fever. I got it bad, and I couldn't give you my milk. But you got sick, poor baby. Frank bundled the two of us up in the truck and drove us to town. We ran out of gas. Rather than let us walk in the cold or just sit there to wait, he pushed that truck the last three miles. Your father couldn't walk for the next five days because of you.
There is a long silence. Janice turns away and stands by the photo of herself and her father on the wall.
JANICE:
He did that?
Silence.
JANICE:
Please. (she sits) Please tell me. Then why did you give me up?
ANNE:
You weren't given up, you were taken.
BARB:
Brace yourself, it's really stupid. The stupidest thing I've ever heard. Times were hard around here, little or no money to be made. So Dad got this idea to join the army, regular money, and they take care of you. Sounded like a good idea.
JANICE:
He was a soldier?
BARB:
Uh huh. And there were rumours that Indians lost their status when they got discharged, so my dad, our dad, never told them he was Indian when he joined. He sent money home so Mom and you could eat. But the Indian agent became suspicious of a single mother living on the reserve and not on welfare. He called the Children's Aid and they sent an investigator who didn't find the home life …
ANNE:
… "suitable." My home wasn't suitable. What the heck do they know about what makes a home? I clothed you. I fed you. I loved you. Out here that was suitable. When that investigator woman stood there in my own kitchen not a foot from where you're sitting right now, when she stood there and said I'd been abandoned and I asked her what she was talking about anyways, and she said right to my face that I was a woman whose husband walked right out on her, I wanted to yell in her face, "Yes, I have a man and he didn't run out on me. He's a fine man gone to join the army to keep peace in this world and he sends me and his baby money." That's what I wanted to say to that … investigator woman from the Children's Aid. But I couldn't. Frank made me promise on the Bible not to, no matter what. He said it might get us in trouble. We got in trouble anyway. They took my little Grace right out of my arms and I never saw her again after that terrible day, God help me. They wouldn't even tell me where they took you. And poor Frank when he got back, and found out what happened, went drinking for four days. He'd never done that before. I almost lost it then but one of us had to be strong, so I was strong for the both of us.
BARB:
After that Dad wouldn't talk about it, ever. Mom learned not to say your name around him. She never even put out that picture until after Dad died.
JANICE:
That's it?
Silence.
JANICE:
That's not even a reason. That wouldn't hold up in any court. And they call this a civilized country.
BARB:
Welcome to the world of being Indian.
Janice approaches Anne.
JANICE:
All of this, my life, because of some stupid woman's misunderstanding and a promise you made.
The emotion is getting to Janice. She begins to break.
JANICE:
I have to go. I've got to get out of here.
She grabs her shoes and coat. Barb and Anne become alarmed.
BARB:
Leave?! Just like that? You can't.
ANNE:
Grace, please …
JANICE:
You don't understand. I can't stay. I just can't.
BARB:
Grace, Mom kinda expected you to stay for dinner. She's been working real hard on everything and …
JANICE:
No, please. It isn't my place, my time. I don't belong here, Anne. I belong in Toronto now. I just had to meet you, put a face on my dream. I should go now.
ANNE:
Grace, wait!
Anne gets up and takes the pictures of Grace and Frank from the wall. She passes her fingers gently over the glass. She takes it to her eldest daughter and holds it out.
ANNE:
Grace. Take this. I want you to have it. Maybe it will help you to understand, and prove something to you. Look at him. No matter how many times you look at that man, you'll only see love.
JANICE:
I can't do that. I can't take it.
ANNE:
I have my memories of Frank. And now of you. And they're in colour. Take it. Frank would've given it to you.
Janice slowly takes it. She looks at the picture, keeping her eyes averted.
JANICE:
Thank you.
She puts it on the table as she begins to take off her moccasins.
BARB:
That's it?! You put your coat on and just walk out that door like it was anybody else's door but your own mother's? Do you know what this woman went through for you?
ANNE:
Barb, please.
BARB:
No, Mom. Grace, Janice, whatever the hell her name is, should know what's going on here. This woman is flying in relatives from all over for you. She would have spent every last cent of that five million looking for you. She's spent 35 years dreaming and waiting for you. And you're just going to walk out that door?
Janice looks down.
JANICE:
I' m sorry.
BARB:
Sorry don't cut it, Sister. I've lived in your shadow all my life, wondering if every time Mom and Dad looked at me they saw you. They never said your name but you were everywhere.
JANICE:
Consider yourself free now.
BARB:
No, it's not that easy. You're leaving me to pick up the pieces. Last time they took you out. This time you're walking out on your own. How do you think that's going to affect Mom?
JANICE:
Try to look at it from my side.
Janice holds out the moccasins for Barb to take.
JANICE:
I'm just not ready for this. Your moccasins.
There is silence between them.
BARB:
Take them, they're yours. We're millionaires now.
JANICE:
Thank you. I'll treasure them.
BARB:
Anytime, Sister.
Janice looks at them and then puts them on the picture.
ANNE:
You will come back soon, won't you?
JANICE:
Thank you for everything.
Anne watches from across the room. She opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out. Instead she rushes to her daughter and hugs her tightly.
ANNE:
Baby. You're my baby Grace.
Anne brushes a strand of Janice's hair back from her face. She smiles up at her, and the lights within fade until they are in silhouette. Rodney enters, dragging his shovel. He looks at the portrait through the window.
RODNEY:
Ah, isn't that touching? Looks like there'll be three stockings over the fireplace for sure. This year, Santa came in a Saab. If I was sentimental I'd say all this was what Christmas was all about. It's a good thing I'm not. Forty-five minutes to the Grinch. And the nog. The sun has set over the lake and it's really starting to get cold, but I don't care cuz I feel warm inside and all is well with the world.
Janice walks down the driveway.
JANICE:
Ah, finished?
RODNEY:
Yep, it's all safe and sound. The car's up the road. Figured I'd give the driveway a going over quickly before I head home. No sense in you getting stuck again. I see things are going well reunion-wise. (beat) You've really made their Christmas. God, what a week—millionaires, long lost relatives—has the makings of a great made-for-tv movie. I'm waiting for Richard Chamberlain to show up.
JANICE:
I'll never forget it. Uh, here.
She hands him a 20-dollar bill.
RODNEY:
What's that?
JANICE:
To thank you for your help.
RODNEY:
It's Christmas, don't be silly. Besides, we're practically family.
JANICE:
Yes, well. Thank you, and have a good holiday.
Janice turns and starts walking towards the car.
RODNEY:
You're leaving? Now? They have all sorts of things planned for you.
JANICE:
I know. And I hate to disappoint them, but I do have other commitments. The Wirths are having a dinner tonight. I have to be there.
RODNEY:
But what about Anne and Barb? It's not supposed to end this way. This should be a happy movie like It's a Wonderful Life.
JANICE:
Don't tell me about movies. I'm an entertainment lawyer. Movies are my life. Ironic, isn't it?
Rodney looks up and sees the silhouettes of the two women in the window.
RODNEY:
Grace …
JANICE:
Please call me Janice.
RODNEY:
Why did you come all the way out here, Janice?
JANICE:
Curiosity. There were some things I had to see and know. Both have been accomplished. It's time to go home.
RODNEY:
Anne thinks this is your home.
JANICE:
A couple of photographs, some tea, and a pair of moccasins don't make a home or a family. My family's waiting for me in London.
RODNEY:
But Anne's been waiting so long. She loves you.
JANICE:
She doesn't have the monopoly on love. I don't mean that to sound cruel but it's true. I do have other people I must see. God, I hope I don't break my neck in these shoes.
RODNEY:
When do you think you'll be back?
Janice looks up at the now empty window.
JANICE:
Oh, someday, I suppose. Goodbye, Rodney. And Merry Christmas.
RODNEY:
Bye … Grace.
Janice exits, carefully picking her way along. Rodney watches her, depressed. He looks at the window, then off towards home. He is deciding. A car starts up and drives away.
RODNEY:
I can go home now, I guess. Then again … Just go home Rodney, like a good little boy. Make little footyprints all the way to your front door. Beernog awaits … Why did she have to do that? Look at that tree. Oh geez …
He is stumped by indecision, then takes a deep breath.
RODNEY:
Life: the Creator's way of saying "impress me."
He picks up the tree and walks towards the house.
RODNEY:
God, I hate Christmas.
Rodney braces himself, throws himself into a festive mood, and sings from the heart.
RODNEY:
"'Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la la la, la la la la."
He enters the house.
The lights go down to a magical sparkling moonlight on the snow, and slowly fade to black.
THE END