Crown of Thorns (Engish Version - Scene 1)
Dramatis Personae
Henry
A Nisei interpreter serving American Armed Forces.
Ichiko
The pilot of a Japanese manned-bomb.
Man with balaclava
A member of the American Air Forces Intelligence Department
Kreuz
A mysterious German man
Setting
A world where the Pacific War never ended
Okinawan Islands, December 1952
SCENE 1
Henry is sleeping on a hammock. A kettle boiling on the stove. There is Japanese teaware on the table. Henry moans in his sleep. Screams. His yell echoes. Whispers fill the room as the echo fades away. Children’s whispers from his dream; getting close, suffocating him.
A MAN in balaclava ENTERS; and approaches silently. He’s wearing black all over, including black gloves. He takes a handkerchief from a sealed nylon bag. Squeezes the handkerchief and we hear a glass vial shatter. Its contents soak the fabric. The Man stands behind the hammock. With great precision, positions the handkerchief on Henry’s face. Henry makes an agonized groan. The Man pauses. And drops the handkerchief without waking him up. Henry’s breathing becomes audible, labored. Gradually it slows down. The Man waves someone in.
DR. KREUZ, a young man in lab coat, ENTERS. He is carrying a briefcase. The briefcase is marked with the sticker of a cartoon character, perhaps Popeye. Kreuz looks at Henry, whose face is still obscured by the handkerchief.
KREUZ: (German accent) The Jap didn’t die, no? (The Man shakes his head) May I remove that thing? (Beat. Picks up the handkerchief and for one split second, put his face too close to it. Feels woozy at once) Zum Teufel! This be potent stuff, indeed. We used ether in Mittelbau. When will it wear off?
The Man lifts a gloved hand, shows four fingers.
KREUZ: Only four minutes! I should get to work, then. This drug is organic, no? Invention of American organic chemists. (The Man nods) Then heat should neutralize it.
He puts the handkerchief into a tea bowl and pours boiling water on it. Dances on his way back impishly, a man who always enjoyed his work. Opens the briefcase. There is a device but we cannot see in it from this angle. He picks a wire from the device with a suction electrode at its tip and attaches it to Henry’s forehead.
KREUZ: The Gerat is ready. Tell your men to activate the stimulus.
A projector casts a rising sun pattern on Henry. We hear the Japanese anthem, played from an old gramaphone.
KREUZ: (Checks the device) No reaction. Cortex is dormant. No excitement. (Looks at the Man) He has no loyalty to the Empire of Japan. (Beat) Send in stimulus number two.
The rising sun is replaced by American colors. We hear the “Star Spangled Banner”
KREUZ: Very little emotional reaction. Moderate cortical activity. He doesn’t love your country. But will serve it, because he’s been taught that’s the right thing to do. (Beat) Normal citizen.
He takes off the electrode and shuts the briefcase. Projected colors and the music fade away.
MAN: This seems so bogus to me.
KREUTZ: I feel insulted. It works. We used it to test Abwehr candidates.
MAN: I don’t speak German. What is Abwehr?
KREUTZ: Some intelligence officer you are! It was the German Army’s intelligence agency.
MAN: I only served in the Pacific. (Looks at Henry) He’s been seeing dreams too, right?
KREUTZ: Probably.
MAN: They all see the same dream. How do you explain that? (Beat) Have you seen the woman?
KREUTZ: She won’t talk to me either. I tried to approach her as a former ally. (Shakes his head) I really hate redheads.
MAN: Her hair is not red. She died her hair for some reason.
KREUTZ: No. She didn’t.
EXITS. The Man lingers behind. Picks the handkerchief. Sniffs it. Feels no effect. Puts the handkerchief back into its bag. Gazes at Henry’s face, VERY closely. Walks to the exit. Looks over his shoulder to the dormant man. Henry stirs. The Man EXITS.
Silence. Distant air raid sirens. Henry wakes up. Tries to stand and falls on his knees, holding his gut.
HENRY: I shouldn’t have drunk so much last night.
Stands up groggily and takes the drinks from the bowl. Gets scalded and sprouts water.
HENRY: Why is it hot, dammit? (Listens to the sirens) Don’t have the time to think about that. Must get me to a shelter.
The sound of an approaching aircraft. It’s not exactly a jet plane but sounds like one. And close! Shockwaves disturb the air. Realizing it’s too late to run, Henry hides under the table. The kettle whistles. He scampers out, puts the flame out. The plane’s sound doppler-shifts to a dull bass as the plane passes overhead. Henry tries to dive under the table. His legs remain out of cover. An explosion. And stillness. Henry crawls out, stands up. His “hangover” has been drowned by adrenaline. The siren has gone silent.
HENRY: Kamikaze.
The door is knocked. Henry opens it… but not completely.
HENRY: What do you want from me?
MAN: (Off Stage) Do not be alarmed. We only need an interpreter. Let me in.
Beat. Henry steps aside. The Man enters; balaklava, gloves and all.
HENRY: I’ve retired. Lots of white boys speak Japanese these days. You’re an intelligence officer, you speak it yourself.
MAN: It’s not just Japanese you’re expected to interpret.
HENRY: I don’t know any other language.
MAN: You look tired. Have you been seeing unpleasant dreams?
(Beat)
HENRY: No.
MAN: I even know what you see. (Pulls a chair and sits down. Pulls up his balaclava enough to expose his mouth) You’re in a dense forest. The trees are all bent out of shape, they look diseased. They’ve fused together into one solid mass, as if they could no longer survive alone. The branches obscure the sky. You look up and there are eyes, you meet the gaze of…
HENRY: Shut up.
MAN: (Gestures vaguely) You think I’ve been talking to your therapist. But I haven’t. We honor medical confidentiality.
HENRY: Nonsense.
MAN: What did she tell you?
HENRY: Who?
MAN: This is military base. (Holds up five fingers) There are only five women in it.
HENRY: The therapist? She thinks it’s some Freudian fantasy. Those… (Grimaces. It’s not easy to talk about this) those trees symbolize the womb.
MAN: But you know better. Don’t you? Because you didn’t recognize the trees. They didn’t grow in California, where you spent your childhood. They certainly didn’t grow in Camp Manzanar, where you were imprisoned after Pearl Harbor. You had never seen them before. Not until you borrowed a book on Japanese fauna from the bases’ library. Even Doctor Freud couldn’t make a tree you’d never seen before pop up in your dream.
HENRY: You’ve been talking to my librarian, if not to my therapist.
MAN: I was there when you borrowed the book. You obviously didn’t notice me. (Points at the balaclava) I wasn’t wearing this at the time. What were they?
HENRY: What?
MAN: The trees, Henry. The trees.
HENRY: They were cryptomeria trees. They are… native to Japan.
MAN: They aren’t diseased, by the way. Those… cryptomerias. From your dream. They look diseased, but they aren’t.
HENRY: They are diseased.
MAN: No.
HENRY: I’ve looked at photos in the book. Healthy cryptomerias look nothing like those… abominations.
MAN: Who said anything about healty trees? I didn’t say they are healthy.
HENRY: You said the trees aren’t diseased.
MAN: They aren’t.
HENRY: I’m not interested in riddles.
MAN: That’s a shame. (Beat) They are mutated, Henry. They are mutated Japanese trees. Nobody ever saw such trees, not even Okinawans. There are no such trees on this island. Yet they keep showing up in people’s dreams. Only Japanese people’s, though. Funny, eh? Don’t tell me you aren’t interested in riddles, now.
(Silence)
HENRY: You’re just messing with my head. You intelligence guys like that. You play tricks. (Pours tea from the kettle) Those trees are just my nightmares. There’s no way such anything can be so bent out of shape and still live. (Sips from the bowl) It’s gone cold. Just my luck.
MAN: I could show you photos. American recon planes often observe that forest when they overfly Japan.
Reaches inside his black suit and produces a photo. Henry recoils in horror and drops the bowl.
HENRY: Put that photo away! I don’t want to look.
MAN: Why are you so afraid?
HENRY: If I see a photo they will become real.
MAN: Who?
HENRY: The trees!
MAN: They ARE real, Henry; that’s what this is all about.
HENRY: Yes but they will become real for me!
MAN: You aren’t making much sense, but whatever. I’ll humor you. (Puts the photo back into his pocket. Henry breathes deeply. A beat. The Man stands up. Takes the tea bowl and examines it) Is this genuine?
HENRY: Probably not. I bought it in Naha.
MAN: There are shops in Naha? That Japanese bio attack contaminated the town all over.
HENRY: I bought it last year.
MAN: Must be made in the USA, then. There’s a factory in Seattle that makes them, for export of course. (Beat) I have real Japanware, traditional lacquered stuff. Found it in the backpack of an IJN marine in Tarawa.
HENRY: (Amazed) You were in the Battle of Tarawa?
MAN: Like hell I was. I’m an intelligence specalist. I went there after it was neutralized, to look for Japanese codebooks. My god, those caves. There was blood and pieces of human flesh everywhere. The place was looted dry; but I saw this broken old piece of ceramic. Nobody had bothered to steal it. I could see that it hadn’t been broken in combat. It had been broken all along. Why would anyone carry broken tableware around? I had an antiquarian look at it. Turns out the thing is five centuries old. It is worth a fortune, the expert said. But that was then. But it lost half of its value by 1945. Lost half of its value again in 1946, and every year after that. It’s worthless now, because everyone hates the Japanese. Sorry, Henry. Present company excluded, of course.
HENRY: It’s been a long war.
MAN: Eleven years and counting. You guys just don’t know when to quit.
HENRY: Look. I’m sorry about your bowl losing its value. It’s too bad the Japanese inconvenienced you by not surrendering.
MAN: (Interrupts) Oh, that’s all right. It might be worth even more in the future, after the Japanese become extinct.
HENRY: I just don’t see what does this have to do with me. I’m American.
MAN: Japanese Americans were supposed to be our guides into the Japanese mind. We thought Japan would surrender when we hit them with the A-bomb. We dropped one, then dropped another, then another. Nothing happened.
HENRY: You could have invaded.
MAN: Not after Tarawa. Even looking at the place AFTER is was captured gave me the chills. Not after Tarawa, not after Saipan. Definetely not after Iwo Jima. We’re sane people.
HENRY: Are we?
MAN: You know how many Americans died for this island?
HENRY: Twenty thousand soldiers died in the Battle of Okinawa.
MAN: You’re not counting the two attempts Japan made to retake this place. (Points a finger at Henry) YOU knew. You knew that they would not give up. It’s in their blood. It’s in your blood. But you said nothing.
Henry sighs. Walks away from the Man. He feels too spent to argue the point. Picks up the teabowl and looks under it to see if anything’s written there. Places it on the table.
HENRY: You told me something about needing an interpreter.
MAN: You’ll help?
HENRY: Depends. After you tell me what this is all about.
MAN: I could force you to help, Henry. You know that.
HENRY: Then force me.
(A beat as the two men size up each other)
MAN: All right, you won. I can’t wait eleven years. It’s about the Japanese rocket plane.
HENRY: Which one? Japan is launching them on a daily basis.
MAN: (Angry) No kidding. They’re hitting us with rockets every day, all right. But you are an interpreter. Who do you think I want you to meet? The burnt remains of a Kamikaze pilot?
HENRY: Someone alive, preferably.
MAN: The pilot is very much alive. Landed on this island two months ago. Landed, not crashed. At first we thought it was a malfunction. But no, the rocket was meant to make a soft landing all along.
HENRY: Perhaps the pilot chickened out.
MAN: No.
HENRY: How do you know?
MAN: There wasn’t any payload. No explosive warhead. No gas bomb. Nothing.
HENRY: But it’s been two months. Didn’t you question him?
MAN: Question who?
HENRY: The pilot!
MAN: The pilot refuses to talk to anyone who’s not of Japanese blood.
HENRY: Then… use persuasion.
MAN: You mean torture.
HENRY: I mean persuasion… by whatever means.
MAN: We can’t. The pilot claims to be an envoy. You don’t rough up diplomats.
HENRY: An envoy? (Dubious) Does Japan finally want to make peace?
MAN: I don’t know, Henry. The envoy won’t talk to us. Insists on talking to a Japanese person.
HENRY: So you need a Nisei interpreter. But why did you wait two months? Why didn’t you call me two months ago?
MAN: Because you were seeing dreams. (Beat) I didn’t talk to your therapist, but I know you first made an appointment with her in 10 October. That’s six days after the envoy came. Since then, all Japanese people on this island have been seeing weird dreams. About that forest and those trees.
(Silence. Henry slowly sits down)
HENRY: Why?
MAN: How the hell should I know? I was hoping you’d tell me.
HENRY: Is that why the Air Force brought in all those weird-looking Germans?
MAN: You know about that?
HENRY: It’s a small island. Word gets around.
MAN: ‘Those weird-looking Germans’ are the top psychiatry experts we have. Even they can’t tell us what’s going on.
HENRY: I don’t know why I see those nightmares. But they are terrifying. If you told me it was one of my fingers, I’d have sawed them off one by one.
MAN: Perhaps the Japanese pilot will tell you if you ask nicely.
HENRY: What does he look like?
MAN: Who?
HENRY: The pilot!
MAN: Like a Japanese person. Except with red hair.
HENRY: The Japanese don’t grow red hair. Ever.
MAN: Don’t I know it? (Beat) The doctors say it’s a rare condition, some kind of subcutaneous bleeding. The pilot bleeds in the scalp. There was a time when such people were put into human zoos. Will you help?
HENRY: First, tell me why you chose me. There are other Nisei interpreters. (Beat. He looks at the Man closely) Have we met somewhere? Do you know me? Is that why you chose me?
(Beat)
MAN: Perhaps. (Pats Henry on the shoulder before he makes for the door. Henry attempts to stands up) Don’t bother. I’ll see myself out. The envoy will be in questioning room 3 at two AM. I expect you to show up.
(The stage gradually goes dark as he exits. The sound of a closing door. A beam of light falls upon Kreutz’s briefcase, resting on the floor. The Man stands into the light)
MAN: What the… (Begins to take off his mask)
KREUTZ: (Talking from the shadows) Do not. I can see you.
MAN: Kreutz.
KREUTZ: It was unfair of you to accuse him.
MAN: Henry is not accused of any crime.
KREUTZ: For failing to predict Japan would not surrender. How could he know?
MAN: He is Japanese.
KREUTZ: Would you kindly step away from there? That instrument is fragile.
MAN: What does this stuff do anyway?
KREUTZ: Read minds.
MAN: Like hell it does. Telepathy does not exist.
But he steps back and Kreutz comes near.
KREUTZ: Reading a mind is like flying in the sky. It is not particularly difficult. After you see someone do it.
MAN: What am I, then? I question people and make them cough up secrets for a living.
KREUTZ: You, my dear friend, are obsolete. (Picks up the briefcase) Don’t feel bad. Lots of things became obsolete during this war. It’s been going on forever.
MAN: Eleven years.
KREUTZ: And counting. (Beat) You know what my first job was, after I became… American? I was… what was that word again? Tasked. Tasked with a prediction. That was in 1945. My boss wanted to know when Japan would surrender. I was the only German psychologist who studied Asian cultures, Asian mindset.
MAN: What did you tell your boss?
KREUTZ: August.
MAN: Which year?
KREUTZ: My friend, just August. My prediction didn’t come true.
MAN: So you were wrong.
KREUTZ: No. My estimation was correct. Unlike Germany, Japan’s militarism lacked a Darwinian component. We saw Jews and Russians as apes. What does a hunter do if beasts surround him, if he knows he will be killed? He fights. Surrender does not occur to him. The Japanese were different. They exalted their country, not their race. They would give up the moment they could not save their country by fighting to death.
MAN: But they didn’t surrender. Today, their country is… (Shakes his head) no cities, no civilization, nothing. A green void.
KREUTZ: Yet they fight still. They send their rockets, day after day. That man I examined earlier… that Henry. He didn’t know this would happen.
MAN: He is Japanese. He should have known.
KREUTZ: No. He was afraid of you.
MAN: Because I’m an intelligence officer.
KREUTZ: Americans executed eleven Nazis in Nuremberg. Rosenberg, Ribbentrop, Seyss-Inquart, Keitel, and so on. I heard all of them cried before hanging.
MAN: That’s not true.
KREUTZ: (Gleeful) Oh. So it is not true? Perhaps some of them cried, then? Or one of them?
MAN: You know the answer.
KREUTZ: See, I told you: It is not difficult to read minds. Nobody cried in Nuremberg. Those men were convinced in their race’s superiority. They died with perfect calmness. That’s the Darwinian component.
MAN: Which Japan lacks.
KREUTZ: No. Japan has it. Henry does not, though. That’s why he was afraid.
MAN: But you said…
KREUTZ: That Japan didn’t have the Darwinian component. She didn’t. But she has that component now. That’s your gift to them. The Japanese have it now. I have seen it.
MAN: Seen it. Where?
KREUTZ: In the Envoy’s eyes. The way that Japanese woman looked at you. At me. Messianic confidence in the unborn. The next stage in human evolution. I saw that look before. In the eyes of a certain German madman. I won’t name him. But he is very famous.
(The stage goes dark)
Scene 2 follows...
