Scene One:
Lights up on a sleepy kitchen. The light is warm, its golden rays scattered across the colorful glass china. The china, glazed with vivid hues of emerald green, topaz yellow, and ruby red, glistens softly in the floating sunlight. Through the open window, a light wind causes the linen drapes to flutter and sway. Littered across the sparkling countertops, a combination of humble oak wood planks and noble marble, lay an assortment of tiny tokens and treasures—a vintage red button, an almost empty matchbox, an old deck of cards, a little shiny pebble. And in this kitchen sits a lone woman, head resting on her palm, gently painting a small cup, her movements slow and wistful.
Isla:
(dreamily, dipping her brush into the paint. She dabs it onto the cup.)
A lovely red, isn’t it?
A young man emerges from the side, peering through the door. He squints, holding his spectacles at arm’s length
Marlo:
Quite.
He steps into the room, setting a stack of tattered books on the table behind the woman. The thud makes Isla jump, causing her to slash an accidental line of cerulean blue across the cup.
Isla:
(irritated)
Marlo, again with the books?
Marlo:
(playfully)
Again, if only to make your head spin!
(he grabs the book on the top of the pile, leans against the countertop, and begins to read)
Isla:
(shoves the cup aside, rubbing her paint stained fingers to the bridge of her sunburnt nose.) Marlo?
Marlo:
(not looking up)
Yes, cousin?
Isla:
(leans back into her chair, lost in thought)
Mm.
Marlo:
(waiting)
Isla?
Isla:
Do we have tea?
Marlo:
We have coffee.
Isla:
Serious?
Marlo:
Serious. The tea is gone.
Isla:
Marlo, why? I would very much like to have a cup. Did you drink it all?
Marlo:
No, cousin. Honey did.
Isla:
(groans)
Of course he did.
(beat)
He knows nothing of money.
Marlo:
(shrugging)
As he told me, the tea was quite nice.
Isla:
Of course it was! It was imported.
Marlo:
(rummages around the pile of books, drawing a large dusty one from the bottom. He flips to the page he is looking for, and sets it next to Isla. He taps the picture twice for emphasis)
From the land of spice!
Isla:
Yes..
(her voice trails off, and she rests her chin on her hand once more, gazing at the falling sun, the last golden strands of day cast across her somber features)
Spice.
Marlo comes to sit next to her. He traces his finger across the words on the page, reading them in soft undertones.
Marlo:
The land of spice. Where the wind is warm, and soothes all troubles. Where all who dwell there are lovely and kind. Sparkling caramel sunlight, dusky blue night. And the moon is made of cheese, soft as silk.
(he pauses, rereading the words)
Smooth as milk?
Isla:
Something like that.
(she leans her head against Marlo’s shoulder, her eyelids drooping)
Marlo:
Funny.
(he flips the page)
A page is missing.
(he tilts to Isla)
What do you suppose that means?
Isla:
(softly)
Only Orla knows.
Marlo:
(opens his mouth to reply, then closes it. confused)
Who?
Isla:
The old woman on the corner. She sells sugared lemons and jars of molasses at her stand. Sometimes, she’ll trade me a pouch of candy for one of my cups. When I lean in, her skin smells of clove.
Marlo:
And she knows the tale?
Isla:
Oh yes. She could go on for hours.
The door swings open, and another young man walks in. His hair is a golden brown, and his eyes are amber. He is sunkissed with a tired smile. He sets a cloth bag down on the table with such exasperation that several dates and peaches roll from it, bouncing to the floor.
Honey:
(exasperated)
Damn.
(he drops to his knees, gathering the fallen fruit)
Marlo, a hand?
Marlo:
Yes.
(he helps Honey gather his wares. He picks up a peach, observing it keenly)
Honey:
Is it bruised?
Marlo:
No, not at all.
Honey:
Well go on then. Have a taste.
Marlo:
(smells the peach daintily, before taking a small bite. Sweet, pure liquid spills down his cheek as he immediately goes for a second bite)
Fantastic.. Honey, where’d you get these?
Honey:
Some woman on the square. Got it for a good price.
Marlo:
Haggled?
Honey:
(bashfully) She thought I was nice looking.
Marlo:
(scoffing)
You dog!
(mockingly flips his hair)
Isla watches the boys, irritation rising within her.
Honey:
(laughing, tugging at Marlo’s sleeve)
Come, look what else she gave me.
Isla, her interest peaked, can’t help but glance at Honey’s bag. From it, Honey pulls a crumpled sheet of parchment, tied with a thin loop of twine. Marlo pulls at it, and the parchment opens like a lotus blossom. Inside, tiny shards of candied lemons glisten like gems.
Marlo:
(he holds up a small, gleaming candy, before popping it into his open mouth)
Sugared lemons! Isla, come see!
Isla:
(crossing the room, arms folded)
And how much were these?
Honey:
Free.
(he offers her a lemon, but she declines)
Isla:
(she points at the pile of fruit)
And the peaches?
Honey:
(shrugs)
Not free?
Marlo laughs out loud, and Honey grins. Isla clenches his fists in anger, her face flushed.
Isla:
You are careless with our money.
Marlo:
(cutting her off)
Honey, tell me more about this woman. Was she beautiful? Are you in love?
Honey:
(laughing)
Hardly. She was quite old.
Both men laugh lightly. Honey steals a glance at Isla, who has begun to tend to a small fire. Isla notices.
Isla:
Tea, Honey?
Honey:
(perking up)
Yes, please.
Isla:
Coffee it is, then. We’re out of tea.
There is a strained silence
Honey:
(tentatively)
Are you angry with me?
Isla:
No, not at all.
(she slams the kettle onto the stovetop. Water spills from the open lid, dousing most of the flames)
Damn.
(she rushes to the countertop, shaking out the candy from the parchment parcel)
Get my money’s worth.
(she goes to throw the paper in the fire)
Marlo:
Wait!
(he lunges for the parchment and snatches it from Isla’s hands)
Isla:
Cousin—
Marlo:
Hush!
(he places the parchment on the table, straightening it out with the palm of his hand) No.. Couldn’t be..
Honey:
What is it?
Isla:
Yes, what? Tell us!
Marlo:
It is! Look here!
(he runs to the opposite table and grabs the book he’d been reading earlier. He flips through it, searching through the pages before suddenly stopping. He carefully places the parchment into the book. It aligns perfectly)
Isla:
By god, it’s the missing page.
Honey:
You’ve lost me.
Marlo:
But how? Why?
Isla:
I.. don’t know.
Honey:
What does it say?
The three of them gather around the book. Honey and Isla look at each other, then at Marlo. Marlo clears his throat, squinting down at the words.
The land of spice
Is close to berth
A golden place
Of silk and myrrh
Where life’s a feather
And one can measure
the subtle worth
Of simple pleasures
Honey:
A lovely poem.
Marlo:
Truly.
Honey:
Undoubtedly.
Isla:
(impatiently)
Well? What does it mean?
Marlo:
Beats me. Honey?
Honey:
Well.. It speaks of the land of spice, no? The mysterious isles of olde, impossible to find. Shrouded in mists of time and chance.
Isla:
(forcefully)
Not. impossible.
Honey:
(groans)
Again, Isla? Must we go ‘round in circles?
Marlo:
(mutters)
Yes.
Isla:
Marlo, do you remember Uncle Yuzu?
Marlo:
How could I forget. Such a sunny man.
Isla:
Yes, but he wasn’t always like that.
Honey:
Isla, please. You barely knew him.
Isla:
I knew him plenty.
(Honey looks at her, eyebrows raised. Isla answers, anticipating his question)
When I lived with Aunt Jamison, Uncle Yuzu had just lost his shop. You should’ve seen him, poor soul—overcome by grief, could barely stand to see the sun… Gone blind in one eye. Aunt Jamison would talk, you know. At the table, by candlelight, she would tell me, “Poor man. I give him til’ the solstice. By then, he’ll be dead.” Seasons passed, and Uncle Yuzu crumbled.
Honey:
Did he die?
Marlo:
(yawning)
Of course he did.
Isla:
Yes, he did. But not on the solstice. In fact, come morning, he was a changed man. Glowy, hopeful, radiant. He opened a new shop, called it “The Solstice – General Wares and Spice Trade,” and lived a long, joyful life. Right up until he passed, peacefully, on the shores of the Northeast coast, counting the stars.
Honey and Marlo are silent, watching Isla intently. Isla, a dreamy wisp in her eyes, sighs.
Honey:
So.. What does that have to do with the poem?
Isla:
Don’t you see? Uncle Yuzu found the land of spice!
Marlo:
(taken aback)
No..
(thoughtfully)
Do you really think so?
Isla:
Yes.
Honey:
(exasperated)
Isla, you know that’s just a tall tale. It’s not real.
Isla:
Who says it’s not? I’m sure if he were here, Uncle Yuzu could tell you.
Marlo:
(to Honey)
Pass me a candy, would you?
Honey passes Marlo a candy. Marlo pops it into his mouth, chewing rather loudly. Suddenly, Isla jolts upright, causing Marlo to choke on the sour. Honey pounds him on the chest as Marlo heaves the sugared glob from his throat.
Honey:
(to Isla)
You almost killed him!
Isla:
(excitedly)
The lemons! Why didn’t I see it earlier!
(she picks up a handful of candy, shaking it at the others)
Where’d you get these again?
Honey:
The market. An old woman—
Isla:
On the square! I did too!
Marlo:
(slightly out of breath)
There are many carts that sell sugared lemons..
Isla:
It was her, I’m sure of it. Orla. She always gives me the candy, if I’ll only listen to her story one more time. (to herself) Come to think of it, she always tells the same one.
Marlo:
What story? About the land of spice?
Isla:
Yes! I think she knows how to get there, and she wants us to go! She gave us the clue on purpose.
Honey:
Or it’s a coincidence.
Isla: (grabbing Honey’s hands) No, don’t you see? We need this. (beat) How long must we wait for our turn? How long must we live just barely? Our chance at wealth is here, Honey. At happiness. We’d be fools to turn our backs.
At her touch, something in Honey’s heart twinges.
Honey:
(sighs)
Fine.
Marlo:
So… what do we do?
The three of them sit in silence, unable to come up with a plan.
Honey:
Well…
Marlo:
Hmm..
Isla:
Hand me the poem?
(Marlo hands her the poem, and Isla reads it again)
Marlo:
Quite a riddle.
Honey:
Honestly, how did Yuzu do it?
Isla:
God knows.
Marlo:
Was he smart?
Isla:
Street smart.
(Marlo looks confused)
You know. Haggling prices, piling crates, scripting lists of goods—
Honey:
Oh, damn!
(he snatches the book from Isla’s hands)
Look.
(he points at words on the page)
It’s not a riddle, it’s a list.
Marlo:
Oh..? Oh! Of course!
(traces his finger down the page)
Silk, myrrh, feathers. It is a list of goods!
Isla:
Makes sense. And look, “subtle worth.” Maybe that means these goods are on sale.
Honey:
Or rather, we have to haggle for good prices.
Isla:
Okay, so. (she pulls a fresh sheet of parchment from under the table, along with a thin quill) Silk, myrrh, feathers. The first is easy to find—
Honey:
But quite expensive.
Isla:
(ignoring him)
By memory, there are three shops I can remember that sell fine silks. So I’ll handle that.
(she jots down her name next to the word, silk)
Honey, you’ll do myrrh.
(writes his name down)
and Marlo, feathers.
(writes again with a flourish)
Honey:
(brow furrowed)
Myrrh?
Marlo:
(flabbergasted)
Feathers?
Honey:
I think I could do that.
Marlo:
(sarcastically)
Oh yes, as could I. Shall I pluck a feather from the hen?
Isla:
No. I believe feather to mean quill.
Marlo:
(points at her quill)
We have one.
Isla:
No, a proper quill. Find a nice, proper quill.
Marlo:
(muttering) Hen would work just fine…
Honey:
One moment, what will we do with these things once we have them? How will they help us reach the land of spice?
Isla:
On the summer solstice, we will stand on the Northeast Shore, facing Tuck Cove, and wait for the Mirage.
Honey:
The Mirage?
Marlo:
Ship of Spices. Ferry to lands beyond.
Isla:
I’m convinced these items are our toll, the price to pay for boarding.
Honey:
But Isla, feathers?
Isla:
Oh hush.
(She squints out the window)
The market will be closed in a half hour. Hmm, that’s not enough time.
Marlo:
(yawning)
Save it for the morning, cousin.
Marlo moves to the porch, collapsing with a heavy sigh into a hammock.
Isla:
(nervously)
Is it wise to wait?
Honey:
Isla, you can barely keep your eyes open
(this is true, as Isla keeps leaning against the counter, eyelids fluttering)
Isla:
Sleep is a fickle thing. Who’s to say I’m truly tired, or else my body is playing tricks on me.
(she yawns deeply)
Honey:
(gently, taking Isla by the arm)
To bed with you.
Isla murmurs something, then slowly makes her way offstage. Honey makes his way to the porch.
Honey:
Must you sleep out here, Marlo? It’s quite cold.
Marlo:
I like to hear the ocean.
The two of them turn out, listening to the waves. Marlo suddenly shivers.
Marlo:
Honey—
Honey: (cutting him off) A blanket, yes.
He holds out a vividly colored blanket to Marlo, who takes it willingly and wraps himself tight, sighing contentedly.
Honey:
(slight laughter)
Fine?
Marlo:
(looking up)
You weave this?
Honey:
I did.
Marlo:
Exquisite.
Honey:
(touched)
Why, thank you.
Beat.
Marlo:
Honey?
Honey:
Yes?
Marlo:
Do you believe in it?
Honey:
In what?
Marlo:
The Land of Spice?
Honey:
(pauses, considering)
Do you?
Marlo:
I suppose so, yes. But…
(he trails off, struggling to find the words)
I’m afraid to believe. It’d hurt much more to think you know but be wrong, then to not know and remain indifferent.
Honey:
(beat)
You’re too young to think of such things.
Marlo:
Nonsense, you’re hardly three years my superior.
Honey:
You imply I’m old?
Marlo:
Yes, Grandfather.
Honey:
Oh hush, to bed with you.
(pause, then whispers)
Good night, Marlo.
Marlo:
(sighs)
Good night, Honey.
Honey turns to go.
Marlo:
(stretching out)
Just think. In two days time, we’ll be on a ship to clearer waters!
Honey:
(clutching his stomach in mock sickness)
Good lord.
(beat)
I’m not good with boats.
Lights down
Scene Two:
Lights up on the kitchen again, where the three are dressed in slightly different clothes. Isla’s hair is tied up in a beautiful blue ribbon. From a jar, she procures small gold doubloons, counting out loud as she places one in each of the tiny pouches the men are holding.
Isla:
Fifty, fifty, and fifty. Should be enough.
Honey:
(shaking the bag)
I’d forgotten what it sounds like.
Marlo:
(confused)
What?
Honey:
(sighs)
Happiness.
Marlo leans into Honey, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.
Marlo:
All in good time, my friend. All in good time.
Marlo playfully squeezes Honey’s chin, and Honey swats him away, pretending to be irritated. Isla clears her throat, annoyed. She is most definitely not pretending. Honey pushes Marlo away instantly.
Honey:
(straightening up)
Sorry.
Isla nods, then turns to Marlo, one eyebrow raised.
Marlo:
(mumbles)
Sorry.
(under his breath)
Mother.
Isla goes to hit Marlo but Honey quickly interjects, smoothly stepping between the two.
Honey:
The plan, Isla? What’s the plan?
Isla:
(huffing)
Maybe if you two spent less time tussling like dogs you would know by now!
Honey:
(sheepishly)
We’re sorry.
Marlo:
(muttering)
We?
Honey glares at him. Marlo stifles a laugh.
Honey:
So? Tell us, won’t you?
Isla:
Oh alright. Alright.
From a stack of papers and books, she pulls out a rather tattered sheet of parchment, spreading it onto the countertop with both hands.
Isla:
This is a map of the Sunden marketplace.
Marlo:
My, what a revelation!
Honey:
(hissing)
Marlo, enough.
Isla:
(scowling at Marlo)
Must you exist only to pester me?
Honey:
(desperately)
Isla, please. We’re losing the light.
Marlo:
It’s morning!
Isla:
Marlo! Go sit over there.
Marlo:
But—
Isla:
Now!
Marlo opens his mouth to retort, but thinks better of it. Scowling, he crosses the kitchen to the dining table, where he sits in a reeded chair, arms folded.
Honey:
You were saying?
Isla:
Yes. This is a map of the marketplace. Sunden Market is expansive, with multiple levels and over a thousand shops, and that’s not accounting for traveling merchants and portable stands. This copy is also quite old, so I don’t believe it includes recent renovations and additional shops.
Honey:
You’re right, it doesn’t.
(he points to the map)
This is where Ambin’s stand is, but it’s blank.
(Isla looks at him curiously)
You know, Ambin.
(Isla is nonresponsive)
Marlo:
(from across the room)
The one who sells peaches and dates.
Isla:
Oh, yes.
(she holds her stomach)
Speaking of peaches, are there any left?
Honey:
(gestures over his shoulder)
There in that bundle, near the kettle. There should be one more.
Isla goes over to the bundle while Honey continues to stare at the map.
Honey:
There’s Balthazaar’s brewery, that hasn’t changed. And the spice tent, of course.
Marlo:
We need more red spice, Honey. I forgot to say.
Honey:
You mean paprika?
Marlo:
Perhaps. I know it only by smell and taste.
Isla:
(coming back to the counter, mouth half-full of peach)
And feel. The string is saffron, the powder is paprika.
Marlo:
Oh. Then yes, paprika.
(beat)
Isla, can you make paprika chicken for supper?
Isla:
Marlo, please. We don’t have the money.
(Marlo crosses his arms, and Isla scoffs)
One chicken means two week’s worth of stringing pearls for me, so over 300 necklaces, and four weeks on the water for you, so 10 crates of redback and 5 of bluefin.
Marlo:
No Isla,
(he crosses the room to grab her hand)
…think. Come evening, we’ll know how to reach the land of spice. We’ll spend as much as we like until we have no more, and then just go there to fetch as much gold as we need!
(beat)
Just imagine the feast! Paprika chicken with olive potato salad, smoked kebabs with minted yogurt, jasmine rice with golden raisins and roasted quail, and fileted fish tossed with buttered crab and lemon shrimp, cinnamon pastries filled with custard, powdered cherry pie and pineapple rum cake… O, the glory!
Isla:
A dreamer, that’s what you are.
Marlo:
As are you, cousin.
Honey:
May I see the map?
Isla hands Honey the map, and he peers at it with a critical eye.
Honey:
Isla, you’ll be off to South Point Threads, then?
Isla:
Indeed.
(weighs money pouch in her hand, then sighs)
A fortune for a fortune, I suppose.
Marlo:
(piping in)
South Point Threads? Heavens, didn’t the emperor shop there once?
Honey:
It is expensive.
Isla:
And? We have one chance. One chance to get to the Land of Spice. To pull ourselves out of this…
(she struggles to find a word)
Marlo:
Misery?
Isla:
Yes.
Honey:
But we aren’t miserable, truly—
Isla:
(abruptly)
You make me miserable.
Honey:
Sorry?
Isla:
You do, you know. Spending our savings as though you were the Prince of some foreign land. Poisoning my cousin’s mind with your baseless, misty thoughts. You hover, Honey. You float. I don’t believe your feet have ever felt the ground, nor will they.
Marlo:
Poisoned?
Honey:
Float?
Isla:
(nose in the air)
Yes.
Honey:
I do not float.
Isla:
You do.
Honey:
Need I remind you, we are currently preparing to spend our entire store of wealth on the premise of a children’s story.
Isla:
It is not a story!
Honey:
I float? I float? Good god, Isla. How could you be so blind?
Isla:
(voice rising) It is not a story!
Honey:
This is a horrible idea.
Isla:
(weakly)
It’s not a story.
She leans into the counter, kneading her face with her hands.
Isla:
You know what I want? Do you? (she looks up) I want happiness. Is that so much? Dare I even ask? Dare I dream?
Honey:
(softly)
You can dream.
Isla:
Can I?
Honey:
(somewhat sadly)
You can, Isla.
Isla:
I can?
Honey:
(firmly)
You can.
Silence. Marlo clears his throat.
Marlo:
So…feathers.
Honey:
Yes.
(points at map)
The Emporium. Find a long, golden quill.
Marlo:
Will do. Shall I head out?
Honey:
Yes.
Marlo picks up the gold pouch and turns to go. He stops short at the door, turning.
Marlo:
Meet here by sundown?
Isla:
Yes.
Marlo:
Goodbye, cousin.
Isla:
Goodbye, sparrow. Fly away now. Fly away.
Marlo leaves.
Honey:
I suppose I should go too.
Isla:
Where?
Honey:
The Spice Tent.
Isla:
Oh. Yes.
Pause.
Honey:
Isla, have I hurt you?
Isla:
Please go.
Honey opens his mouth to say something, but thinks better of it. He leaves.
There is a long silence, broken only by the swirling waves and distant patter of seabird wings. Isla sits there, completely still. Slowly, she pulls out a drawer from the counter. She removes an assortment of items—tattered cloth, faded books, and even an old medallion. Finally, she is left with a paper box. She places it on the counter and removes the lid. From it, she raises a beautiful silk dress of the purest white. As she runs her hand over it, she speaks.
Isla:
To life I am shackled, to happiness, none. In silence I’ll ponder, no pain shall I shun. Conjoined be the lovers, by jewel or by son. To whom can you sew me, if death be my one?
Drown me in luster, that spider hath spun. There is no good purpose, no lips have I won. To which was I given, the earth or the sun? In time, I shall know it, let truth be undone.
As she speaks, the light changes, representing a shift in the day. By the end of her murmured soliloquy, the light is a deepening pink.
Loud chatter from outside the door wakes Isla from her slumber-like state. She quickly hides the box and stands, folding the dress in two. Marlo marches through the door.
Marlo:
(chanting)
Annnnnddd… He’s got it!
(pulls a peacock quill from behind his back)
Isla doesn’t respond.
Marlo:
Isla?
Isla:
Marlo. Good evening.
Marlo:
(swirls feather around Isla’s face, tapping her nose)
Not quite evening, is it? Look! There remains the dredges of day in the sky.
Honey:
(stepping though the threshold)
How poetic of you.
Marlo:
Honey? You’ve got it?
Honey:
(holding out a silver box)
Come smell.
Marlo:
(lifts the lid and inhales)
The scent of promise.
Honey:
(looking at Isla)
Well?
Isla:
Incredible.
Honey:
Oh yes. And look!
(he pulls a pouch from his pocket)
Money to spare.
Isla:
How?
Honey:
Haggled.
Marlo:
(scoffs)
Fancied, more like.
Honey:
(red)
She liked my name.
Marlo:
(fake swoons)
I like your name.
Honey:
You prawn.
(beat)
And Isla? The silk?
Isla wordlessly holds up the dress. Marlo and Honey stare in awe.
Marlo:
Marital robes?
Honey:
A wedding dress.
Honey runs his hand over the silk.
Honey:
Why?
Isla:
(shrugs)
Cheaper.
Honey:
Surely not..?
Marlo:
(abruptly)
No. It wasn’t.
(looks at Isla)
What is this about, Isla?
Isla:
Nothing.
Marlo:
We asked for a swatch of silk. You buy a wedding dress.
Isla:
It was on sale.
Marlo:
You’re lying.
Isla:
No.
Marlo:
You are. Your ear twitched.
Isla:
Enough, please? It’s sundown.
Marlo:
Don’t lie to me, cousin.
Isla:
Marlo, forget it.
Marlo:
Tell me.
Isla:
Forget it!
Honey:
(nervously)
Let’s all just—
Marlo:
Tell me!
Isla:
I hate it! I hate it.
Marlo:
Hate what?
Isla:
This!
(she throws the dress)
Marlo:
(starting to figure it out)
Where did you get that, Isla?
Isla:
I hate it.
Marlo:
It’s your mother’s, isn’t it?
Isla:
I want it gone. I need it gone.
Marlo:
Isla—
Isla:
I’ll sell it. I’ll shred it.
Marlo:
Why?
Isla:
Love is cheap. It is.
Marlo:
No it’s—
(he pauses, something runs over his face)
Isla:
(whispers)
No it isn’t. Someone say it isn’t.
Honey:
It isn’t, Isla.
Isla:
It isn’t.
Marlo:
(stands)
I’m going.
Isla:
Why?
Marlo:
I need to.
Isla:
No, don’t leave. Marlo, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.
Marlo:
You didn’t. You never do.
Isla:
Then where—
Marlo: Go down to the shore. I’ll meet you there.
Honey:
But Marlo—
Marlo:
Do it.
Marlo leaves. Isla and Honey are alone.
Isla:
To the shore, then.
Honey:
But Marlo..?
Isla:
We’re losing light. It’s time.
Scene Three:
Honey and Isla walk down to the shore together, where the sunset is in full color. It bathes the sand in an orange glow. Isla takes all three items and places them at her feet, right at the edge of the water. She and Honey sit there together, watching the sky.
Honey:
So—
Isla:
Hush.
Honey:
But—
Isla:
Shh.
They continue to stare out into the sea.
Honey:
Where is it?
Isla:
(not looking at him)
Coming.
Honey:
(squints)
Where?
Isla:
Shh.
They turn back to the ocean again. They wait there for a long while.
Honey:
Oh— Oh god! Isla! There it is!
Isla:
That’s a crabbing buoy.
Honey:
It’s a— a crabbing? Oh heavens.
(he slumps down on the sand again)
They watch the waves, but the light is quickly fading. Honey knows this, and he shifts around, restless.
Honey:
Isla, I need to tell you something.
Isla doesn’t respond.
Honey:
We may be wrong, Isla. I don’t think the ferry is coming.
(beat)
It’s not coming, Isla.
Isla continues to stare out.
Honey:
Isla? Look at me?
Isla:
No.
Honey:
Please?
Isla:
It can’t be a story. It has to be real. It has to.
Honey:
It doesn’t. Nothing’s coming.
(beat)
Isla:
No.
Honey:
Yes. Look at me now.
Isla:
(almost to herself)
Please, no.
Honey:
(forcefully)
Isla.
Isla turns to him finally.
Honey:
It’s not real.
Isla:
What?
Honey:
(blatantly)
The Land of Spice does not—
Isla:
(abruptly)
Your eyes are like amber.
Honey:
(continuing)
exis– What?
Isla:
(struck)
Your eyes are like amber.
Isla’s face changes, realization crashing down upon her. She raises a shaking hand to her mouth, her lips turned up in a crescent smile. She lets out a gasp of laughter, rolling back on her heels and tilting her face to the sky in triumph. Honey looks mortified.
Honey:
(concerned)
Isla?
Isla falls backwards, arms stretched in the golden sand.
Isla:
(absolutely starstruck)
I..
(she gasps for breath, before succumbing to another fit of giggles)
Oh, mercy!
Honey:
Isla, you’re scaring me.
Isla rolls on her side, panting for air.
Honey:
(desperately) Please—
She turns to face him, placing a hand on his knee, leaning in close.
Isla:
You want to know?
Honey:
(distracted)
Know…?
Isla:
The answer.
Honey:
(trying to breathe normally)
To…?
Isla:
(grinning)
The riddle, silly!
Honey:
Oh! Yes, very much.
Isla looks out to the sea, illuminated by the last rays of sunset. Honey squints at the horizon, glances at Isla, then returns his gaze to the horizon once more. Several moments pass in silence.
Honey:
What are we watching for, Isla?
Isla:
The Mirage.
Honey:
The Ship of Spices?
Isla:
(nods)
Ferry to the world beyond.
Honey:
Ah.
(beat)
Where is it?
Isla:
(points out to the horizon)
There.
Honey:
Wha—
(he squints again)
Where?
Isla grabs his chin with one hand and tilts his sights downwards.
Isla:
There. With the golden sails.
Honey:
(utterly lost)
Golden sails?
Isla nods, distracted.
Isla:
It’s sinking.
Honey:
(alarmed)
Is it?
Isla:
The ship sinks itself.
Honey:
You’re speaking in riddles, Isla.
Isla:
Just watch. It will soon disappear beneath the waves.
Honey furrows his brow, then sighs as he realizes Isla’s mistake.
Honey:
Isla, that’s just the sun.
Isla:
Hush. Watch.
Beginning to lose his patience, Honey turns back to the sea, watching the sun sink below the surface of the water. The night is blue, and the stars twinkle like diamonds. Despondently, Honey recalls his favorite dream: where the jewels of the northern sky would fall from the night, clattering on the roof like hale, and Honey would scoop them up and sell them all, becoming the richest man this side of the western dunes.
Suddenly, he realizes that Isla is no longer beside him.
Honey:
Isla?
(turns around, running across the beach)
Isla?
He turns in a full circle, then sees Isla’s silhouette, lean and long in the light of the stars. She is standing atop the highest sand dune, tracing some invisible shape with her outstretched hand.
Honey:
(running to her side, panting)
You frightened me.
Isla:
Did you figure it out?
Honey:
What?
Isla:
The riddle.
Honey:
(exasperated)
Isla, this whole time I’ve been waiting for you to tell me!
Isla:
Oh. Well, I wanted to give you a chance to figure it out for yourself. But I suppose I can help you.
Honey:
(grabbing Isla by both shoulders)
Torture me no longer. Tell me the answer.
Isla:
You’ll have to be more specific.
Honey:
(frustrated)
Oh, I don’t know…
(throws his hands in the air, fumbling for his words)
How do you get to the Land of Spice?
Isla: The Mirage.
Honey:
(spluttering)
The Mi—
(cuts himself off, breathing deeply)
I know that, Isla.
Isla:
Then why’d you ask?
Honey:
(exhaling)
You test my temper.
Isla:
Ask me another question.
Honey pauses, considering her.
Honey:
Is it real?
(Isla furrows her brow)
What I mean is, does it exist?
Isla:
(sighing)
Of course it’s real.
Honey:
And how do you know that?
Isla:
I just do.
Honey:
That isn’t proof, Isla. So I’ll ask you again, how do you know that it’s real?
Isla: Because we’re in it now, Honey.
Silence.
Honey:
(softly)
Are you mad?
Isla:
No.
Honey:
(gently)
Isla.
Isla:
Ask me another question.
Honey:
Isla, will you please listen to me?
Isla:
(voice rising)
Ask. Again.
Honey:
Do you not hear me?
Isla:
(loudly)
Ask again.
Honey is silent, glaring at her.
Isla:
(raising one eyebrow)
Fine, I’ll ask you.
Honey:
How is that going to—
His voice is cut off as Isla kisses him.
Isla:
Do you love me?
Honey cannot bring himself to say a word. Instead, he nods.
Isla:
And do you now know the answer?
Honey nods again.
From the treeline, a shadow comes sprinting down, three orbs of light trailing closely behind it. As it nears, the light illuminates the shadow’s face, revealing it to be Marlo, who laughs in joy at the sight of Isla and Honey.
He stops short of the pair.
Isla:
(bowing her head in greeting)
Cousin.
Marlo:
Isla, good evening
(he turns to pull a playful face at Honey, who blushes)
Honey, you dog.
Honey:
(laughing)
Fair, fair.
Isla:
What’s this you’ve brought?
(she gestures at the orbs of light floating behind Marlo, which, upon close inspection, look to be
paper lanterns, illuminated by a miniature golden candle. They are attached to thin lines of twine, secured by Marlo’s fist)
Marlo:
Oh, these? They’re the story.
(he brings the lantern closer to the two, who quickly realize that they are made from the storybook in the kitchen)
Thought it’d be nice to offer our regards to ol’ Yuzu. A tribute, of sorts.
Honey:
(poking the lantern)
Beautiful.
(a sudden thought crosses his mind)
Isla, I need to know—
Isla:
The Mirage? Yes, I’ll explain it to you. In fact, I think it’s a good idea to explain the story in its entirety. It is a tribute to Uncle Yuzu after all, our first generational wayfinder.
Marlo and Honey:
Wayfinder?
Isla:
A term I’ve just created. Wayfinder. Those who know the answer.
Marlo:
Ah, fitting.
They all sit down in a circle. Both boys look eagerly at Isla, waiting for her to start.
Isla:
The Mirage, Honey, is a ship, a vessel to lands untouched, of promise and mystery.
Honey:
The Land of Spice?
Isla:
Yes. Or better known as, for the sake of this explanation, the land of tomorrow. You see, the Mirage takes two forms: gold and silver. In its golden form, it sails across seas of blue, leading us through our lives, transporting us over and over to the land of tomorrow. It never stops sailing. In its silver form, it navigates an expanse as black as night, weaving through stars and constellations. But regardless, a passenger may board any time they see fit. The ship will always sail into tomorrow.
Marlo:
A ship, to some. To others, the sun, and the moon.
Isla:
And each new day, the land of tomorrow. Each new day, the land of spice.
Honey:
(nodding)
I understand.
Marlo:
You see, the land of spice isn’t a place. It’s a state of mind.
Isla:
You are there, if only you choose to be.
Honey:
Can you go in and out?
Marlo:
Of course.
Isla:
But Honey, do you understand how to enter the Land of Spice.
Honey:
Yes, I think I do.
Marlo and Isla glance at each other.
Honey:
The answer to that question lies in the riddle, no?
Isla:
Go on.
Honey:
Simple pleasures.
Isla and Marlo clap their hands, laughing.
Isla:
Well done, Honey. You’ve got it.
Honey:
And you knew, Marlo? Before us?
Marlo:
Yes.
Honey:
When?
Marlo:
When Isla said, “Love is cheap.”
Isla:
Really?
Marlo:
Really.
Honey:
I don’t follow…
Marlo turns to Honey.
Marlo:
What was your simple pleasure? How did you first enter the Land of Spice?
Isla:
You don’t have to answer that—
Marlo:
(prodding)
Well?
Honey:
(thoughtful)
My simple pleasure.
(he looks at Isla)
Love.
Marlo:
Yes. Love. The key. You see, love isn’t cheap. It is the most valuable substance of all. We’ve known the Land of Spice to be a place of riches. The story never lied. We just didn’t realize what kind of wealth it was.
Honey:
Incredible…
Marlo:
And you Isla? Your simple pleasure?
Isla:
(smiling)
Love.
(she pauses, thinking)
Or perhaps, painting? Or sundown, how I love sundown. Oh wait, no! I know.
(she waits for dramatic effect)
Tea.
Honey:
(shaking his head)
Oh, dear.
Marlo:
But Isla, what’s tea without honey?
They all laugh at Marlo’s horrible joke.
Marlo:
But truly, Isla. Those things all count. You see, love isn’t a single force. It’s in everything. All the simple pleasures share its influence.
Honey:
What’s yours, Marlo? Your simple pleasure?
Marlo:
(procures a bag from his pocket, tossing a familiar yellow candy into his mouth)
Sugared lemons.
Isla rolls her eyes, grinning, while Honey tackles Marlo in a bear hug, attempting to wrestle the bag from his hands.
After a while, Isla speaks.
Isla:
You know, I never figured out Uncle Yuzu’s.
Marlo:
Uncle Yuzu’s what?
Isla:
Simple pleasure.
Honey:
Oh, that I actually know. It was Orla.
Isla:
No!
Marlo:
He loved her?
Honey:
Oh yes.
Marlo:
Goodness. Ol’ Yuzu.
They all sit in silence for a moment.
Marlo:
So, my friends—
(he hands them each a lantern)
Shall we?
They each take a lantern and stand in a line, facing the sea.
Marlo:
Each lantern has a verse. I’ll start, then Honey, and Isla, you’ll finish. Ready?
Isla and Honey nod. Marlo inhales, holding the lantern close.
Marlo:
The land of spice is close to berth, a golden place of silk and myrrh.
Honey:
Where life’s a feather, and one can measure…
Isla:
The subtle worth of simple pleasures.
They release the lanterns.
Lights down.