the laptop
(a ten-minute play)
(first performed at Marrickville High School on 20th October 2006)

Characters
FATHER, in his late forties.
TOM, his son, in his early twenties.
A WOMAN’S VOICE.
A POLICEMAN with a DOG.

Singapore airport. A FATHER is seated, his hand luggage on the floor next to him.

WOMAN’S VOICE: Ladies and gentlemen, please do not leave your luggage            unattended. Any personal items left unattended will be immediately
removed by airport attendants.

[Enter TOM, carrying a laptop.]

FATHER: Did you find the loo alright?
TOM: Yeah, it’s not far from here (points) if you wanna take a leak.
FATHER: Okey-doke.

[TOM sits down next to his FATHER, laptop hugged tightly to his chest.]

FATHER: Why do you hold on to your laptop like it’s made of gold?
TOM: I’m pretending it’s a woman.
FATHER: You don’t have to carry it with you wherever you go.
TOM: Didn’t you hear the announcement? You shouldn’t leave things lying
around.
FATHER: I could’ve kept an eye on it. You don’t even trust your own father to
watch over it?
TOM: (laughs) Fathers’ve been known to pinch their sons’ things, you know.
FATHER: (laughs) This is one father who doesn’t. You know, you’ve been
hugging it the whole time.
TOM: I’m putting in some practice for when I get a woman of my own.
FATHER: (laughs again) Why don’t you put it down on the floor?
TOM: I prefer to hang on to it.
FATHER: Be more comfortable with it on the floor.
TOM: I’m comfy.
FATHER: Come to think of it, ever since you bought it, you’ve never let it out of
your sight.
TOM: I paid good money for it, you know.
FATHER: Nobody’s going to nick it if you leave it on the floor next to you. Phnom            Penh, now why buy a laptop from that place?
TOM: As good a place as any.
FATHER: There’re better ones in Sydney and you have more choice.
TOM: This bloke got it for me cheap. He knew people.
FATHER: Who was the fellow anyway? Who were all these other blokes you
were always going out to meet?
TOM: Blokes I met at a bar. Fun guys. We got on well.
FATHER: Oh, my God, Tom, I hope it’s not what I think. I know I should’ve got
curious way back in Phnom Penh but you don’t go prying into your son’s
affairs. You know, all those people you were always going out to meet, you weren’t scoring . . . were you?
TOM: (laughs) No, Dad, of course not. I’ve been clean since rehab. Don’t you      trust me?
FATHER: Of course, I trust you but it’s hard for me, you know. I’ve got to show
you I trust you and yet I’ve got to watch over you. (takes out a packet of
lollies; offers a sweet to TOM) Want one?
TOM: I’m on a diet.
FATHER: You’re way too thin.
[FATHER pops a lolly into his mouth. Exits to dispose of wrapper. TOM is debating in his mind whether to place the laptop on the floor or not. He puts it down, then changes his mind and picks it up. Finally, he puts it down. The following announcement comes over the P.A. system while all this is happening.]

WOMAN’S VOICE: Attention please. Flight Number BA 123 bound for London is
now ready for boarding. Will all passengers on this flight please proceed to            Gate 8?
FATHER: (coming back) I see you’ve taken my advice. (sits down)
TOM: About what?
FATHER: About leaving the laptop on the floor.
TOM: Oh, that. I don’t need any more practice. I know how to hug a woman now.
FATHER: Why don’t you let me bring it over here, next to my bag?
TOM: It’s perfectly all right here.
FATHER: No, it’s better here, between us. It’ll be safer.
TOM: It’s as safe here as over there.
FATHER: (gets up) No, I think it’ll be safer over here. (bends to pick up the
laptop)
TOM: (leaps up) What’re you doing?

[TOM quickly grabs hold of his laptop. FATHER and son struggle over it.]

TOM: Leave it alone, Dad.
FATHER: As you wish. (sitting back down) I’ve got to take your word for it when
you tell me you haven’t taken up your old habit. But this over-protecting
your laptop, it’s a bit fishy. Oh, my God! (pause) I hope my worst nightmares aren’t about to
come true. Why didn’t I think of it earlier? I’m going to ask you a question
and I want you to answer me truthfully.
TOM: What’s it? Fire away.
FATHER: Are you . . . are you carrying the stuff . . . in that . . . in that laptop of
yours?
TOM: (laughs) Of course not. How can you think that?
FATHER: I’m sure you are. Those blokes back in Phnom Penh, they were
suppliers, weren’t they?
TOM: No, they weren’t. Like I told you, they were guys I met in a bar and got
chummy with.
FATHER: No, you’re lying. They supplied you with the powder and gave you the
laptop to carry it in. It’s got a false bottom, the laptop, I’m sure.
TOM: (laughs) You’re being paranoid. It’s a legit laptop.
FATHER: If it’s dinky-di, will you kick up a fuss if I take a look?
TOM: (laughs) What and have you rip it apart?
FATHER: I’ll buy you another one when we get back to Sydney.
TOM: I don’t want another one. I want this one. OK, let’s look at it another way.            Suppose, for argument’s sake, I’m doing what you accuse me of doing,
not that I am, mind you, and you take the laptop apart and, bingo, you find
bonanza. (Sweeps hand over the area) Look. Look around you. There’re folks everywhere. It’s a sure way to get caught.
FATHER: You’re right, of course. I can’t risk that in this public place. All right,
why don’t we go to the men’s?
TOM: It’s still risky. There’ll be people going in and out. Trust me, Dad.
FATHER: I’ll feel better if I know for sure.
TOM: Look, would you feel easier if I put the laptop next to you? (picks up laptop
and places it next to his FATHER’s hand luggage)
FATHER: Yeah, it’ll help. A little. Just a little. You know, supposing, for
argument’s sake, you’re carrying the stuff and I can’t take the laptop apart
to find out for sure, as you pointed out, how about then when we board the
plane you leave it behind?
TOM: You’re not being practical. Supposing, again for argument’s sake, there’s
pay dirt in it, it’ll be the sure-fire way to get caught. It won’t take long for
them to trace it back to us. You know these Singapore blokes, they’re too
damn efficient.
FATHER: Yeah, you’re right again. You come up with all the answers. Oh, God,
what am I to do? Tell me what to do, Tom.
TOM: Nothing. What’s there to do?
FATHER: How do I resolve this situation? You tell me how. The agony’s not
knowing one way or another but I feel in my bones I’m right. OK then. If
there’s nothing in the laptop, you wouldn’t object, would you, if I took it
with me for a walk?
TOM: Where to?
FATHER: To the gents.
TOM: Hmmm, (thinking) yeah, why not? Take it with you if you want but what’re
you going to do with it? You’re not going to hack it to bits, are you?
FATHER: No.
TOM: You’re not going to dump it somewhere, are you?
FATHER: No. (picks up laptop) I’ll see you later. (exits)

[TOM sits around for a while, thinking. Then he picks up his FATHER’s luggage and moves to the seats opposite.]

WOMAN’S VOICE: Attention please. This is an urgent announcement. Calling
Mr Alex Brown. Will you please proceed immediately to Gate 8 for your
flight to London on Flight Number BA 123? You are delaying the flight. It
cannot depart until you board the plane.

[The FATHER re-enters.]

TOM: You ducked into the dunny?
FATHER: You didn’t think I would? (sits down and places laptop on the floor next
to him.)
TOM: Oh, I believed you would. You did anything naughty to my laptop while you
were there?
FATHER: Like taking it apart?
TOM: (laughs) Yeah, like taking it apart.
FATHER: No, I didn’t. Besides, as you pointed out, it was chock-a-block with
people.
TOM: And, hip, hip, hooray, my laptop, you brought it back.
FATHER: Why wouldn’t I?
TOM: Dunno. It was your idea to leave it behind when we board the plane.
FATHER: Yeah, I know I said that. Again, as you pointed out, there were masses
of people everywhere, even if I’d wanted to do that. You know, you’ve
passed my test.
TOM: What test?
FATHER: Aw, I secretly set you a test just now. I said to myself, if you wouldn’t
let me            take your laptop away, then you’ve got something to hide but you
let me walk away with it and you didn’t even bat an eyelid. You don’t know
how relieved I am, Tom. (places a hand on his son’s shoulder) You’ve
convinced me you’re not doing . . . you know what.
TOM: I told you I’m not but you wouldn’t take my word for it.
FATHER: I believe you.

[Sounds of dogs barking in the distance.]

FATHER: Those are the sniffer dogs. You hear them?
TOM: Yeah, I hear them.
FATHER: You aren’t worried?
TOM: Worried, why should I be? I’m above board. You don’t really believe that,
in spite of what you just said. It all boils down to one thing. You don’t trust
me. You’ve never trusted me.
FATHER: No, that’s not true. I’ve always trusted you.
TOM: No, you haven’t. You don’t now. Deep down inside, you still believe I’m
lying.
FATHER: You’re wrong. I believe you when you say you’re not.
TOM: No, you don’t.
FATHER: Why are you saying this?
TOM: Because if you really believe I’m upfront with you, you wouldn’t ask            whether I’m worried or not.
FATHER: It was a rhetorical question.
TOM: No, it wasn’t. When someone asks a rhetorical question, he doesn’t expect
an answer but when you asked me whether I was worried, you expected
an answer.
FATHER: No, I didn’t. I mean, you needn’t have answered. If you hadn’t, I
wouldn’t have made anything of it.
TOM: Admit it, Dad, in your heart of hearts, you don’t believe me. You think the            laptop’s overflowing with powder.

[The FATHER is silent, looking at the laptop, thinking. The barking of the dogs is getting louder.]

FATHER: Try to understand. Don’t think it’s easy for me. My heart wants to
believe you but something in my head—a small voice—it keeps telling me,
no, weigh up the situation, add up the little things and they all add up to
you’re doing the run. Look me in the eye, Tom. Tell me I’m wrong.
TOM: (looks his FATHER in the eye) You’re wrong. How can I make you believe
that? You don’t trust me. You never have.
FATHER: You’re wrong there. I’ve always trusted you. How can you say
otherwise?
TOM: No, you only pretend you do. All my life, you’ve never trusted me.
FATHER: Believe me, son, I’ve always trusted you.

[The dogs are barking very loudly now.]

FATHER: (remains silent for a while, thinking, then puts hand on TOM’s
shoulder) I want you to know, no matter what happens, I love you. (picks
up the laptop and stands up) Goodbye.
[A policeman and his dog appear. The FATHER walks towards them.]

TOM: (jumps up) Dad, Dad, come back here. Dad!

BLACKOUT