ACT I: HIS CHILDHOOD IN BLANDENBERG.

“kingsley relish iii”

act i:
his childhood in blandenberg.

Bedridden and weak (but heart-wrenchingly precious), a sickly boy of nine lies on a bed of straw. An elderly woman watches over him, brushing his tousled red hair. He sweats profusely, his head twisting to and fro on a soaked pillow. The woman places the brush on a side table and pats his forehead gently with a cool damp cloth.

grandmother

“There, there. Don’t strain yourself, dearest. Would you like another story?”

child

(straining nonetheless)

“Yes, meemaw. Please...”

The woman thinks for a moment. Some have accused her of doting on this feeble (though beautiful) child, but he was her only grandson. She loved to tell tales, and the boy had been confined to bed for years now. It was the least she could do.

grandmother

“You’ve heard them all so many times you know them better than I, child. Knights and dragons, tournaments and weddings, alliances and betrayals. I’m afraid I have nothing new to tell you.”

child

“How about … our story, meemaw.”

grandmother

“Our story? What do you mean - the story of our family?”

child

(the delicate child attempts to speak but is overtaken by a coughing spasm)

grandmother

“Alright, dearest. You may remember that your grandfather - may his soul rest in peace - your grandfather and I were from Andarr. Do you know where that is?”

child

(the child shakes his head)

grandmother

“It’s a place very far from here, far to the west. Why I can still remember the day I first met him, your grandfather: he, a brash and cocky longshoreman; I, just a silly young girl piously making my way to church. He wolf-whistled at me from the docks, can you believe it? And I was fool enough to pay him heed. But he did look so dashing in that navy wool sweater and cap. Oh! How full of himself he was! From the very first, he swore that I would be his, and I laughed heartily at his audacity.”

child

(teasing)

“But he got you, didn’t he, meemaw!”

grandmother

(laughing)

“Yes, he did. Eventually. Which you know very well, for you wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

child

“Did papa kiss you that day, meemaw?”

grandmother

“Goodness, no! For all his bluster, he took forever to work up the nerve to ask me out. He claimed he wanted to make his fortune first, so that I’d be more impressed with him. Poppycock! He was just afraid of me. But he had my heart from the very start, and I think he knew it.”

child

“Was papa rich, meemaw?”

grandmother

“Your grandfather came from humble origins, my sweet, but he always wanted more than his father had. He was determined to improve his lot in life, so he worked longer and harder than every other man on the docks. Oh, you should have seen his hands, child: nothing but blisters and rope burns, calluses and corns! When he got home, he hardly had the strength to crawl into bed. Those were lean, difficult years, and we didn’t have much to live on, nor the energy to enjoy ourselves. But we saved. We saved, and we prayed. And one day, our prayer was answered.”

child

“Mikon gave you a hundred thousand million gold!”

grandmother

(laughing)

“No, not quite. But your grandfather finally found the opportunity he’d been waiting for. One of the merchant companies was going out of business, and he decided to pay its creditors in exchange for ownership of the company. People thought he was crazy to buy a failing business, of course, but he managed to turn it around. Within three years, Relish Imports and Exports was one of the busiest traders on the docks of Andarr. Oh, those were wonderful times, child. Wonderful times! We had more than enough to keep us happy. But your grandfather was an ambitious man, and he wasn’t satisfied with that.”

child

(tentatively)

“... we aren’t rich now, are we, meemaw?”

The woman seems lost in thought, and does not respond for quite some time. With a shake of her head, she snaps out of her reminiscence and takes in her now humble surroundings: the rickety bed of straw in a corner of a small bungalow; the thatched roof, noticeably sagging in several spots; the mismatched set of fragile-looking furniture; and the walls, plain and bereft of painting or decoration.

grandmother

“No, we’re not, Kingsley. Some very bad men took it all away.”

end of act i.