KLARA (14) arrives at Social Services. The office is spacious, with one wilted plant in the corner, and many papers, files, and folders spread around. There are two desks in the room, behind which two women smoke, make phone calls, drink coffee, leaf through magazines, surf the net, and work. KLARA pauses at the door. JASNA and NADA fail to acknowledge her at first.
KLARA (quietly): Hello.
No one answers.
KLARA (a little louder): Hello, may I . . .
One administrator lifts her head from the computer screen and looks at KLARA curiously.
KLARA: I am looking for Ms. Nada.
JASNA: Which Nada?
KLARA: Magdović, aaam, no, no, Magd . . .
NADA: Is it Magdić?
JASNA: What do you need Nada for?
KLARA: I need to ask her something . . .
NADA: And who let you in here . . . ? (She gets up from her desk.) I don’t get this . . . (She turns to the other woman as if the girl is not there.) Shouldn’t Ervin call us before he lets anyone in? I mean . . . What kind of working environment is this . . . ?
NADA is looking through a large register on the cabinet.
NADA: What’s your name?
KLARA: Who? Me?
NADA: I don’t have time, kid.
KLARA: Klara, Galovac.
NADA: Aaaah, I see. I know. Wait till I find it . . . (Pulls out a thick register with documents and carries it towards the desk.) Alright, what did you want to ask me?
KLARA: Are you Nada?
NADA (blows smoke cynically): How long are we gonna play this game? Yes, I am Nada, and you are Klara. Go on.
KLARA: Well, I wanted to say, my brother and I don’t want to spend any more holidays with mom.
JASNA follows the conversation closely, no longer looking at the computer.
NADA: Well, do you know that this is against the law?
KLARA: I don’t . . . I only . . . Auntie Vera said that you . . .
NADA: Jesus Christ, those foster parents . . . Listen, kid. You’re old enough for auntie Vera to have explained this to you. She knows the procedure very well. The process is such that, unless the supervisor submits a professional assessment of the change in the dynamic with regards to visits with the biological parent, we have no authority for such interventions. Do you understand?
KLARA (shyly): Not really.
NADA: And I will note it down that you came here by yourself while you’re in her care. We will see how well she’s looking after you.
KLARA: But she doesn’t know I am here!
NADA: Exactly my point. That’s precisely what I’m saying.
KLARA: But we don’t want to go to Marija anymore. We hate spending holidays there, and she’s mean to us.
NADA: How is she mean to you? Let me hear it.
KLARA: She’s always forcing me to work around the house. I must clean and wash and do yard work.
NADA: Don’t you know that big girls like you have to help their old, tired mothers . . . ? That’s very normal. I’m confused. Don’t you help Vera?
KLARA: I do help, but this is different . . .
NADA: Dear child, I’ve explained everything to you. You are under no circumstances allowed to come here on your own initiative. I really don’t understand where you’re getting this idea from. When the supervisor comes, you can tell them everything you think is important . . . But you can’t just walk in here in the middle of the day, interrupt our work, and ask us to break the law and violate procedure, which, dear God, we didn’t invent in the first place . . .
KLARA: Once when Fran didn’t want to eat soup, she took the bowl and poured it onto his head.
NADA: Who didn’t want to eat soup?
KLARA: My brother, Fran.
NADA: Why didn’t he want to eat it, eh? His mother worked hard to make it, did she not?
KLARA: He didn’t want to eat it. He said his stomach hurt and that he wanted to throw up.
NADA: Ah, yes, children would rather eat candy all day long, isn’t that right? For breakfast, lunch, and dinner, if possible . . . Meanwhile you break your back while you shop, prepare, cook . . . Sweetheart, do you not know how much work goes into preparing food? Or how much work the two of us in this office have?
KLARA quietly looks at the floor.
JASNA: We’re responsible for 368 families, just us two. Three hundred. Sixty. Eight. Let that sink in.
NADA: I will write down a note here that you stopped by, and then we’ll see.
KLARA: But why?
NADA: What do you mean, why?
KLARA: Why do you not believe me?
NADA: I believe everything you said, sweetheart, but I have to support every one of my decisions with the supervisor’s report. Do you understand? I can’t just write down that Klara and Fran Galovac will never again visit their mother because Klara came here and said this and that. That’s not how things are done. If the supervisor notices some irregularities, they will then write a report, and I will accordingly determine the adequate measure.
KLARA: But she always acts differently!
JASNA again follows closely.
NADA: Who acts differently?
KLARA: Mom. She acts completely different when the supervisor visits.
NADA: Listen, Klara. You and your brother were not the only victims. Your mother suffered, too, and she has gone through tremendous stress and is taking care of your disabled sister. Which is why you might want to be less selfish and not just think of yourself and your obviously spoiled brother . . . (Looks at the list in front of her on the table.) And what’s going on with the other sister?
KLARA: Nada?
NADA: Yes, Nada . . . How come Nada didn’t come over to whine and complain? Why is Nada not fighting with other kids at school like your brother? How come she doesn’t have a problem helping her own mother during holidays?
KLARA: Nada is different.
NADA: Nada is different? Don’t say . . . Then you may want to be a little different, too.
KLARA drops her head and looks at her shoes.
SCENE 7
Prison cell. NADA (18) with a child in her arms sits in one of the orange chairs surrounded with many other people. A prison officer comes in and gives everyone permission to approach the glass wall behind which a group of men appear. They take their seats on the other side of the glass. People in the waiting room, including NADA, take corresponding seats on this side, and then almost simultaneously grab the receivers. The other members of this scene talk and gesture, but we only hear NADA’s and her father’s voice.
NADA (softly to the child in her arms): Look who’s here! Aw, look who came to see you . . . (She taps the glass with her finger.) Hi, Dad, how are you?
ZDRAVKO: Hey . . . Will you look at the size of him . . . He reminds me of FRAN when he was little . . .
NADA: I can see that, a little. Everyone says he’s a spitting image of Mate, but I don’t think so.
ZDRAVKO: Nah, what Mate, what are they talking about? He’s the spitting image of his grandaddy. Yes, I’m just like my grandaddy . . . (Taps the glass with his finger towards the baby.) Of course I am . . .
NADA: He has your nose, eyes, the whole lot. And he’s a little devil, too. You can tell. Mate says he’ll have to sign him up for sports the moment he starts walking. Tire him out so he’s not bothering us.
ZDRAVKO: How’s Mate doing?
NADA: He’s great. He got a promotion. At this point he’s got clout in the party, so he got to choose where he wanted to go next . . . Water Department, Department of Transportation, take his pick.
ZDRAVKO: That’s a smart man. I hate that I missed your wedding.
NADA: It’s okay, Dad. There’ll be parties and birthdays and Christmases and Easter dinners when you get out . . .
ZDRAVKO: Yeah, but a wedding is a wedding . . . Father should always be there.
NADA: Eh, what can you do? Tell me, how’s your health?
ZDRAVKO: Alright, alright. They’re feeding me this special diet . . . for diabetics.
NADA: Are you feeling better now?
ZDRAVKO: I dunno.
NADA: What do they give you for lunch?
ZDRAVKO: Everything light, low-calorie, chicken, rice, I dunno, beets, it’s like a . . . hospital menu.
NADA: Ah, what’re ya gonna do.
ZDRAVKO: I take pills for blood pressure and acid reflux and my sight has gotten worse, but it’s fine. I keep kicking.
NADA: Listen, you’ve gotta look after yourself. No one’s going to do it for you. Watch what you eat. Make sure you stay active, go for a little walk every so often. That’s important. Up the stairs, down the stairs . . . And don’t be stressing out . . . That’s most important . . .
ZDRAVKO: I know, I know . . .
NADA: A few more years . . . and then.
ZDRAVKO: As long as my health serves me.
NADA: That’s why you gotta take care of yourself . . . Work on it. Anything is possible, if you put your mind to it . . . Shoot, if only Fran would get his act together. He just keeps dragging himself around that car shop for pennies, wasting time with football. I can’t stand it anymore. He comes home with a brand-new motorcycle, a new pair of sneakers, and so on. Mate and I ask him, “Where did you get that? You don’t have that kind of money.” He laughs and says, “Santa Claus came,” and screws with us. He came by to see the baby, but usually he never calls or visits. It’s terrible. Klara is not much better either . . . Mate says schoolteachers are the worst. They just want to control everyone. They are always busy preaching and lecturing. And yep, that’s exactly what Klara’s like, non-stop sermonizing, and when you tell her something, she gets offended right away . . . She’s such a snowflake . . .
The father sits on the other side of the glass, absentminded. He’s present, but he’s not listening. NADA continues talking.
NADA: . . . and Majda, she’s so defiant. She is always spiteful. Such a difficult, headstrong person . . . I mean, Mate and I visit her, and help her, and all. I sometimes take her out for coffee, just to get her out of the house and around people. She gets stuck at home, stares at the computer, and never goes anywhere . . . Marija tells her, c’mon, you’ve got to do something, but it’s no use. Nothing ever reaches Majda. She’s stubborn as a mule. I don’t know what she’s thinking. What’s she gonna do when she gets old . . . ? When she gets weaker, older . . . What then . . . ?
ZDRAVKO: Did Mate sell the Mercedes?
NADA: Huh? Oh, yeah, he did, that old clunker.
ZDRAVKO: How much?
NADA: I dunno, he’s in charge of the money. Did he say a hundred thousand, or something like that?
ZDRAVKO: What hundred thousand? A hundred thousand what?
NADA: Oh, I don’t know, Dad. Why you asking me? You know I don’t understand these things. I just know that we now have a new one, that’s all I know.
ZDRAVKO: Mhm, do you happen to know what year that car was . . . or what mileage . . . ?
NADA: I don’t, but I can ask Mate and tell you next time.
ZDRAVKO: Yes, please. It’s important. Don’t forget.
NADA: I won’t, I won’t.
ZDRAVKO: Listen, I gotta go, I’ve got something . . .
NADA (looks at the clock): We’ve got a few minutes left . . .
ZDRAVKO (gets up): I promised a guy here I’d take care of something for him, I gotta go . . . C’mon . . . (Taps the glass with this finger again.) Grandaddy’s golden boy . . .
ZDRAVKO hangs up the receiver and blows the baby a kiss, then leaves. NADA gets up and waves to him while holding the baby with her other hand.
SCENE 8
MARIJA’s dreary suburban living room. NADA smokes and nervously paces the room. FRAN rocks in the chair. In front of him is a clear bottle of homemade booze. MARIJA sits and stares. KLARA is hunched over, sniffles, and blows her nose.
MARIJA (to KLARA): I told you right away this wasn’t a good idea.
FRAN: Check you out, Ms. Psychic. Fucking hell. How did you fail to predict he was gonna be playing basketball with us then, huh? You didn’t think he was gonna throw us out the window? Two steps, and bam!
NADA: Stop it, Fran! (Turns to MARIJA.) You shouldn’t have given him that. (Points at the bottle of booze.)
FRAN: What the fuck, I thought we got together to talk about him, to jog our memory . . .
MARIJA: You always blame someone else . . . Even when Hajduk loses, it’s the coach’s fault, the referees’ fault . . .
FRAN (sings Milli Vanilli’s “Blame It on the Rain”): Don’t blame it on the rain . . .
KLARA (to MARIJA): Do you think that we are responsible for what he did?
MARIJA: I don’t think nothing.
FRAN: Yeah, yeah. When it’s convenient, she’s got no opinion.
NADA: What happened, happened. Everything is behind us now. I really don’t see the point of rehashing everything. Really, what’s the point of that?
KLARA: We don’t have to talk about what took place. This entire crappy country has heard the story . . . But, we need to talk about how to proceed . . . I think that at the very least we should request a restraining order from the court, for Majda . . .
NADA: A restraining order?? What’s wrong with you, Klara? Have you not had enough of slumming around courts and newspapers? Was six years not enough for you?
KLARA: Well, what do you suggest we do?
NADA: Um, nothing . . . He was punished for what he did. Maybe more than was necessary. He’s surely a different man now . . .
FRAN (pours himself another drink): The wolf changes his coat . . .
MARIJA: He’s an old man. He might even be sick. How could he harm us? He couldn’t even . . .
KLARA: I don’t know if I’m ready to meet him . . . But I definitely know that . . . I don’t know how I’d . . . I’m so worried about MAJDA . . . that she . . . (Starts crying again.)
NADA (places her hand on her sister’s shoulder): Oh Klara, things won’t turn out the way you think. Trust me. You’re just imagining the worst . . .
KLARA: But what if I’m not? What if it goes exactly that way? What if Majda has another breakdown? What’re we going to do then? I don’t want my sister to end up in a psych ward, do you? And I’m going to do everything in my power to prevent that.
FRAN: You’re forgetting that restraining orders are granted based on repeated acts . . . I mean, I know how that works . . .
NADA: And how do you know? Oh, yes, that is your milieu . . . Swastikas, football flares, and so on . . . Of course you’re informed . . .
FRAN: Considering how many times that man of yours kicked your ass, you might think about informing yourself, too.
NADA: What are you talking about? Who hit me?
FRAN (rocks on the chair, singing Bob Marley’s “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright”): Don't worry about a thing, 'cause every little thing gonna be alright . . .
MARIJA: Leave him be, Nada. He’s just egging you on and acting smart . . . Rise above.
NADA (to MARIJA): Well, that’s not very hard . . . (Turns to FRAN.) You’re making stuff up. That’s the only talent you have. That’s how you came up with the story back then.
FRAN jumps up from the chair, and the chair collapses on the ground.
FRAN (puffs up his chest): What exactly am I making up? Huh? Say it! C’mon, let’s hear you!
NADA flinches and steps back from the other end of the table.
NADA: They separated us because of your stupid testimony.
FRAN: And what did I say wrong?
NADA: You know very well.
FRAN: What?! What do I know? Bullshit, Nada, give me a break.
FRAN starts pacing left to right, with a glass in his hand. NADA does the same on the other end of the table, but with a cigarette in her hand.
FRAN (to MARIJA): You said the worst thing was the concrete. Did you not say that? Did you not say it would’ve been better had we landed on a lawn. You lied to everyone that he never laid his hands on us before. Did you not? And that you were asleep when it happened. Huh, the fuck you were. As if . . . The village is burning, and granny’s fixin’ her hair . . . . (Turns towards NADA.) And now you’re giving me shit? After fifteen years you’re calling me out?! You broodmare. What’ve you done with your life, aside from spreading your legs for profit . . .
NADA: She didn’t lie, I saw everything! I know she was asleep!
FRAN: Bullshit. She was fighting with him. He told her to shut up, that he was gonna throw us all out the window if she didn’t shut it. And she said, throw them out . . . I don’t care . . .
NADA: She didn’t say that! She didn’t mean it. People argue and say all sorts of stuff, you moron. They don’t mean it literally, dammit . . . Everything is black and white to you. You’re the epitome of righteousness. Who do you think you are? Some Robin Hood, chasing justice all over . . .
MARIJA (calm but starting to whine): I love my children. I love you, too, Fran. Remember, I gave birth to you. I sacrificed all my life for you . . .
FRAN: Oh please, spare me your loving. Thanks but no thanks . . .
KLARA (on the verge of tears): Can the two of you please sit down? I beg you. Nada, Majda might be back any moment. We haven’t come to any agreement. We haven’t made any decisions . . . You two are only insulting each other . . .
NADA: I think I’ve had enough of this conversation . . . (Grabs the cell phone, cigarettes, and lighter and puts them into her purse.) Jakov’s practice is nearly over . . . I’ve got a lot to do. I have to fix lunch. Jelena has a birthday party in the afternoon, so we also need to swing by the mall to get a gift. Well, it was great hanging out. How nice of you, KLARA, to get us all together, just wonderful, such a lovely occasion.
FRAN: There’s only one way we can be sure he’ll never harm another person again.
NADA (almost at the door, zips around): Excuse me?! What’re you trying to say?
FRAN: I’m trying to say where there’s a will, there’s a way.
NADA: Are you out of your mind?
FRAN: Listen, you gotta take things into your hands when the law doesn’t protect you . . . I’m just saying there’s that option, too . . .
MARIJA (gets up from the table): This is ridiculous . . . (Mutters to herself.) Who did I let into my house . . .
NADA: What’s wrong with you, you idiot? He’s old and completely harmless!
FRAN: How do you know that?
NADA: What do you mean, how do I know that?
FRAN: How do you know he’s old and harmless?
NADA: What else is he gonna be . . . ? At his age . . .
FRAN: Did you ever visit him, huh?
NADA: Who? Me?
FRAN: You did, didn’t you . . . ? How many times?
NADA (turns and walks toward the door): I don’t know what you’re talking about . . . I’ve had enough of your insults and accusations, you brute.
FRAN: Of course you’ve been visiting him . . . Hahaha . . . Fuck me! You’re sicker than I thought!
NADA leaves. MARIJA picks up the empty cups and brings them to the kitchen. KLARA, stunned, stares at FRAN. FRAN, stunned, stares into space.
SCENE 9
MAJDA and DAVID, her home aide, are at the park. MAJDA sits in her wheelchair, while he sits on the bench.
DAVID: You seem quiet today.
MAJDA eats colorful gummy candy. She tears each piece with her teeth, and slowly chews.
DAVID: Did something happen?
MAJDA, mouth filled with candy, shakes her head, and makes a “no” sound.
DAVID: Why don’t you finish what you have in your mouth and then tell me.
MAJDA chews while DAVID patiently waits.
DAVID (lifts his brows and nods his head): So?
MAJDA: Nothing.
DAVID: Are you sure?
MAJDA: Fran brought these for me. (She points at the bag of candy.)
DAVID: That was nice of him . . .
MAJDA: He’s my brother . . .
DAVID: I know, you told me that. Or did you forget that you told me? (He gently teases her.) You have the memory of a goldfish.
MAJDA: Hah, goldfish.
DAVID: Have you ever seen one?
MAJDA: I haven’t.
MAJDA pulls on another candy with her teeth.
DAVID: We could get you a goldfish . . . That way you’d have a pet.
MAJDA: I already have a pet.
DAVID: You do? Which one?
MAJDA: Well, Marija, hahaha. (She laughs while chewing.)
DAVID: Do you mean Marija, your mother? Your mom is your pet?
MAJDA laughs harder.
DAVID: Okay, okay, it’s funny. Just be careful you don’t choke . . . First, finish chewing.
MAJDA struggles for air, coughs a little, then calms down.
MAJDA: Or the other way around. Maybe I am her pet. Except that you take me out for walks, instead of her.
DAVID: You are not a pet. You are a big girl who’s a little less mobile . . .
MAJDA: It’s easy . . . when someone else takes care of your pet.
DAVID: Your mother looks after you, doesn’t she?
MAJDA (as if saying the opposite): Yes.
DAVID: Are you ready to tell me now?
MAJDA: What?
DAVID: Okay, if it’s nothing, then it’s nothing.
MAJDA: It’s nothing.
DAVID: Should we take a little stroll?
MAJDA: I don’t feel like it.
DAVID: What do you feel like today?
MAJDA: A kiss.
DAVID: A kiss? Haha.
He leans towards her and kisses her on the cheek.
DAVID: Like this?
MAJDA: No.
DAVID: Then like what?
MAJDA: Kiss on the lips.
DAVID: On the lips? But only girlfriends and boyfriends kiss on the lips.
MAJDA: So?
DAVID: I already have a girlfriend. It wouldn’t be nice of me to . . .
MAJDA lifts the breaks on her wheelchair, starts pushing herself away. DAVID gets up from the bench and goes after her.
DAVID: Hey, Majda. Hey, wait up . . .
He gets in front of her and then crouches down so he’s on her eye level.
DAVID: Hey, please tell me if something happened. You seem off today.
MAJDA looks at her hands folded on her lap.
MAJDA: Maybe your girlfriend will leave you.
DAVID: Hah, maybe, but I hope she doesn’t.
MAJDA: Or maybe you will leave her.
DAVID: Anything is possible.
MAJDA: I’m independent, you know.
DAVID: Of course you are . . . And you’ll get even more independent.
MAJDA leans in to kiss DAVID on the lips. He dodges aside.
DAVID: Hey, hey . . . Didn’t we say . . .
MAJDA starts waving her arms.
MAJDA: Go away! Go away!
DAVID steps back.
DAVID: Calm down . . . Please, calm down.
MAJDA continues to wildly flail her arms.
MAJDA: Go away! Go away! Leave me alone!
DAVID: Okay, okay. I will leave you be. Just calm down.
DAVID, visibly disturbed, takes another step back. MAJDA stops yelling and waving.
MAJDA (crying): Nobody loves me.
DAVID: That’s not true.
MAJDA: It is, it’s true.
MAJDA starts picking her nose and licking her finger. DAVID is silent. He watches her with discomfort for a while, and then tries to diffuse the tension in the air.
DAVID: Can I have a piece of candy now?
MAJDA: You can’t.
DAVID: You see . . . no one loves me either.
MAJDA smiles.
DAVID: Shall we go for a little stroll together now that no one loves us?
MAJDA (looks silently at first): Sounds good. (She gives a shy smile.)
DAVID: We could play a game of chess afterwards.
MAJDA: Did you bring it?
DAVID shakes his jacket with a chess set rattling in the interior pocket.
DAVID: Sure did.
MAJDA: Let’s play now!
DAVID: Sounds good, but after a game, we’re going for a stroll.
MAJDA: Deal.
DAVID: If I win, you’ll drive yourself, and I’ll watch you . . . You have to strengthen your arms.
MARIJA: And if I win, you’ll push me like the Queen of Sheba.
DAVID: Haha, where did you get that?
MAJDA: What?
DAVID: Queen of Sheba.
MAJDA: From the Bible.
DAVID: Mhm, alright.
DAVID pushes her back to the bench, then pulls out the chess set and sets up the figures.
DAVID: Which ones are yours?
MAJDA: The white ones.
DAVID: Oh c’mon, you always get the white ones . . .
MAJDA: Yep! Let’s go, whites! Aleee alee alee alee . . .
DAVID smiles.
DAVID: Fran taught you that . . .
MAJDA: Hajduk is my team.
DAVID: Who’s mine then? Some kind of Blackshirts . . .
MAJDA: Yours are enemies. They are dangerous.
DAVID: Ugh, just my luck. I always get the worst.
MAJDA: That’s what you get when you refuse a kiss.
DAVID (sourly): Heh.
MAJDA: You have to be punished.
DAVID: Hm.
MAJDA: But at one point the sentence will be over.
DAVID finishes setting up the figures.
MAJDA: And then you get to do whatever you want again.
DAVID: Hm, it’s not like you can do whatever you want . . .
MAJDA: Yes, you can . . . but then you can get punished again. Or somebody can beat you up . . . Maybe someone’s husband.
DAVID: Whose husband?
MAJDA: Whose husband . . . ? What do I know, I don’t have a husband yet.
DAVID: You don’t need a husband.
MAJDA: I do.
MAJDA brings a white pawn forward two spaces and starts the game.
MAJDA: It would come in handy.
DAVID brings his black pawn two spaces forward in a similar opening move.
DAVID: Come on, look at the poor queen. She’s constantly behind the king. She just worries about him and keeps an eye on him. Wherever he goes, she follows . . .
MAJDA: Yeah. That’s bullshit.
DAVID (slightly chiding): Oh!
MAJDA: It should be the other way around.
They play quietly for a while.
DAVID: Checkmate . . . Did you play that on purpose?
MAJDA: Yes. I don’t need the stupid king.
DAVID: But then you lose.
MAJDA: So what? Now that he’s gone, life’s peaceful again.
DAVID: How about we bring him back and play another round?
MAJDA grabs the king figure, throws it in her mouth, and tries to swallow it.
DAVID: What are you doing? Hey! Majda, spit that out, spit it out!
DAVID grabs her cheeks. She’s resisting. The candy falls and spills across the ground. MAJDA starts choking. DAVID does the Heimlich maneuver. She finally spits the figure out.
DAVID: Damn, Majda! Are you out of your mind?
DAVID is panicked and distressed.
SCENE 10
FRAN is in the car shop when his cell rings with the tune of Eminem’s “The Real Slim Shady.”
FRAN: Yo!
JUDGE: Is this Mr. Fran Galovac?
FRAN: Who’s asking?
JUDGE: This is Judge Rimac.
FRAN: Oooh, I thought you’d call me by my first name.
JUDGE: Mr. Galovac, I am calling to officially inform you that your father, Zdravko Galovac, will be discharged from confinement on the 22nd of June, upon serving the sentence the trial court had ordered after conviction . . .
FRAN: I don’t have a father.
JUDGE: Seeing as you, Fran, have already been prosecuted and are not a stranger to the court, especially to the district court, I thought it important to inform you of this personally.
FRAN: How kind of you.
JUDGE: Be aware that this is out of my good will. It is better that you are informed in a timely manner and that you prepare for the new circumstances . . .
FRAN (ironically): I was born ready.
JUDGE: Mr. Galovac, I did my duty. You, on the other hand, understand this is a high-risk case, partially because of the media interest, and partially . . .
FRAN: Are you trying to tell me that I am some sort of offender on call . . .
JUDGE: Fran, you already have over twenty traffic offenses, disorderly conduct charges, attempted extortion charges, charges for . . . Do I need to continue listing?
FRAN: Mm, please, I love the sound of your voice.
JUDGE: Please take this conversation seriously. The media interest will be high, and I advise you not to pour fuel on the fire.
FRAN: I wanna pour something on you.
JUDGE: Be warned, this call is being recorded.
FRAN: Well, geez, never mind.
JUDGE: I recommend that you and your sisters seek legal and other help if the media spectacle gets out of hand . . . We are going to do everything in our power to ensure the whole event proceeds as peacefully as possible . . .
FRAN: How kind of you to be so concerned about us. No one ever took such care of us . . .
JUDGE: Mr. Galovac, I have said my part. Please inform your sisters.
FRAN: Isn’t that your responsibility?
JUDGE: I thought that you and your sisters are on good terms.
FRAN: Is this family therapy or what?
JUDGE: You need to watch your tone.
FRAN: You need to get off my back.
JUDGE: Excuse me?
FRAN: Are we done?
JUDGE: I am warning you. You cannot conduct yourself this way with an official representative of the court. You can be charged for contempt . . .
FRAN (arrogantly): And you can eat me.
JUDGE: Very well, we will inform your sisters . . . And I will make an official note of your insulting of a court official. Have a nice day.
FRAN (hangs up the phone, then mutters to himself): Suck it . . . you and your nice day.
SCENE 11
KLARA sits in the school counselor’s office. MARINA stirs Nescafé, pours water from the teapot into two cups on the desk.
KLARA: I didn’t know who . . . (Exhales.) Who I could even talk to about something like this . . .
MARINA: Oh Klara, I get it . . . It’s understandable that you’re stressed out about this . . . But can I tell you what I think your problem is?
MARINA hands KLARA a coffee cup.
MARINA: Watch, it’s hot . . .
KLARA carefully takes the cup, places it in front of herself, and blows into it.
MARINA: You worry too much about them . . . And you imagine what will happen with Majda, what will happen with Fran, how Nada will handle things . . . And that’s how you waste yourself . . .
KLARA (deep in thought): I know . . .
MARINA: They’re grown people . . . And as for how they will process all this . . . there’s nothing you can do about that.
KLARA: Yes, I know. I thought that if we spoke about it and if we were supportive of each other . . .
MARINA: Klara, what support are you talking about? (Takes a sip of coffee.) If you were a functional family that communicates, nurtures and protects . . . Dammit, you know you are anything but that . . .
KLARA: I know . . .
MARINA: I know you know, but you’ve got to shift the focus to yourself . . . Concentrate on your own feelings, your own desires, and your own needs . . .
KLARA: I don’t know, Marina. I’m afraid.
MARINA: Afraid of what? That he’ll come and attack you?
KLARA: No. Afraid that he’ll come, and that I’ll forgive him . . .
MARINA: Do you want to forgive him?
KLARA: I don’t know, sometimes . . . But then I look at Majda, and I realize that I can’t . . . No way . . .
MARINA is quiet.
KLARA: I had a dream about him, you know.
MARINA: ?
KLARA: I dreamt that he was taking a leak in the wind, and that we were standing behind him . . . and all that piss was splashing us . . .
MARINA is quiet.
KLARA: It was awful. I woke up all distressed. We’re so pathetic, Marina, truly pitiful . . .
MARINA: Darling, don’t you know . . . Every other child in this school is dealing with some crap at home . . . I’m just applying band-aids here. I’m not fixing anything. There are days I feel so helpless. I think that all I ever do is pointless bull. I mean, I sit here, and they come to me as if I can make a difference . . . And each story is horrific . . . Do you know how many people are out there who don’t throw their children out the window, who are respectable damn citizens, polite parents, but they commit invisible emotional violence? There’s no one to organize an intervention. There’s no media. There’s no help. They don’t even realize they need help. They go out into the world all screwed up, insecure, addicted, sick, all kinds of messed up . . .
KLARA is quiet.
KLARA: Do you think someone rescued us?
MARINA: Well, there was that initiative, and if it wasn’t for that, the law wouldn’t have changed, and he wouldn’t have gotten the sentence he did . . . And it’s possible you all would have remained with Marija . . .
KLARA: And you think that’s what saved us?
MARINA: Dammit, Klara. At least the rest of your childhood was peaceful, without fear . . .
KLARA: That fear never disappeared. It only multiplied into countless little fears, fear of life, of people, of love . . .
MARINA: I understand, but you can’t hide from those fears, nor can you expect someone to protect you from them. If you follow either of those two paths, you will end up exactly where you started.
KLARA: I don’t know what to do, where to go . . .
MARINA: Go within, darling. Just go within yourself.
MARINA takes a sip of coffee. The school bell rings.
SCENE 12
FRAN is strangling NADA. MARIJA and KLARA try to pull him away.
FRAN: You motherfucking cunt, you lying cunt! Did ya buddy up to him, huh? Did ya bond? Now when he gets out, are you gonna give him your own kids to throw out the window? Let’s see how your friendship endures that . . .
MARIJA and KLARA struggle to pull him away from NADA.
FRAN: Are you blind? Do you see your sister in a wheelchair every fucking day? You dirty lying bitch!
NADA: I didn’t . . . I only . . .
FRAN: I’ll kill you if you’re lying to me. I’ll check, you fuckin bitch. Two phone calls and I’ll know if you’ve been going to see him. Don’t you be lying to me. You’re better off . . .
NADA: So what? So what if I did? What? It’s been a hundred years since . . .
KLARA: FRAN, please! (Tries to move FRAN further away from NADA.)
FRAN: You psycho!
NADA: He paid for everything.
FRAN: What did he pay?
NADA: You’re a hundred times worse than him.
FRAN: I swear I’ll kill you . . .
NADA: He made a mistake once, and he’s been paying for it his entire life . . . And you . . . You keep doing shit every day . . .
FRAN: How many times?
NADA: What, how many times?
FRAN: How many times did you go see him?
NADA: I don’t know.
FRAN: You don’t?! That means a bunch . . .
NADA: I gathered strength to find forgiveness in my heart . . .
FRAN: Enough of your bullshit!
NADA: I spoke about this with Reverend Ivan as well.
FRAN: Fuck Reverend Ivan . . . You’ve been lying to us all these years . . .
MARIJA (to FRAN): So what if she went. She’s got a right to visit her father . . .
FRAN (curtly, to his mother): Don’t talk to me.
NADA: I knew . . . I knew you were not on this level . . .
FRAN: We’re not on this level? Hahaha. What’s next, huh? Are you going to give him a warm reception, throw a goddamn welcome party for him? What do you say? So we can all remember the good old times . . .
NADA: You’re an idiot.
FRAN: I’m an idiot?
In that moment, FRAN notices MAJDA at the front door. He quickly rushes to her and wheels her over to NADA.
FRAN (mutters to himself): I’m an idiot . . . Right . . . We’re all idiots . . .
He grabs MAJDA from the wheelchair and transfers her to a chair. He then violently grabs NADA and shoves her into the wheelchair. She resists and yells.
NADA: Stop it! Leave me alone, you moron!
FRAN: Sit! Sit, you fucking cunt, sit down so you can see what it’s like. C’mon, relax. I’ll give you a spin, you motherfucking cunt . . .
KLARA (crying): Stop it, Fran! Please, stop it!
MAJDA starts screaming. FRAN turns to her, and NADA pulls herself out of the wheelchair.
KLARA (to FRAN): What the hell is going on with you!? Are you trying to force her to feel compassion?
You force your way through everything! It doesn’t work, dammit, can’t you see . . .
NADA (distraught, takes out cigarettes): Oh, spare us your preaching . . .
KLARA: Fuck off, Nada! That’s all I’ve got to say to you. That’s the only language you understand! Fuck off!
NADA (sarcastically): Is this how a teacher speaks?
FRAN: Shut up, bitch!
MARIJA (sits at the table): Listening to you makes me think it’s a pity he didn’t kill the whole lot of you.
FRAN, in a fit of rage, grabs the empty wheelchair and throws it out the window. Everyone freezes and falls silent.
MAJDA sits still, mute, hunched over. FRAN walks to her, and takes her in his arms. He turns to NADA and MARIJA.
FRAN: So, should we toss her out the window, too, huh?
MAJDA (quietly): Sure.
