Waiting for Voter: A tragi-comedy in two Acts

A country road. A tree. Evening.

Phillip, the leader of an opposition political party sits on a low mound. He takes off his hat, knocks the crown and places it back on his head.

Phillip: Nothing to be done.

Enter Annette, his deputy leader

Annette: So there you are again.

Phillip: Am I?

Annette: I’m glad to see you. I thought . . .

Phillip: What?

Annette: Nothing.

Phillip: If there was something you’d tell me.

Annette: If there was something I might not know.

Phillip: There is nothing.

Annette: I know.

Phillip: I sometimes wish there were.

Annette: Yes.

Phillip: But then again not.

Annette: No.

Silence.

Annette: I remember what you used to be.

Phillip: And what was that?

Annette: Foreign Minister. You set up the free trade deal with China.

Phillip: You ran the Health Ministry. And now . . .

Annette: Yes.

Phillip: We’ve done nothing wrong.

Annette: We had unanimous support.

Phillip: From Helen.

Annette: From everyone.

Phillip: And yet . . .

Annette: Yes.

Annette: Let’s go and think about why we lost the election.

Phillip: We can’t.

Annette: Why not?

Phillip: We’re waiting for Voter.

Annette: Ah.

Silence.

Annette: You’re sure it was here?

Phillip: This is where he left us.

Annette: Really? I thought it was somewhere else?

Phillip: If not here then where?

Annette: If not then then when?

Phillip: We were here yesterday.

Annette: Weren’t we in Northland?

Phillip: It makes no difference.

Annette: Was it this evening?

Phillip: This one or another.

Annette: (Wild eyed) You fool! What if Voter came here yesterday and we were in Northland? Surely he won’t come again today!

Phillip: Shhhh! Listen!

They freeze in exaggerated positions

Annette: I hear nothing.

Phillip: I thought it was he.

Annette: Who?

Phillip: Voter.

Annette: (Looks offstage) It is only a small boy. See, he comes.

A timid boy enters clutching a sheaf of papers.

Annette: Who are you?

Boy: I’m your communications manager.

Phillip: Approach.

Annette: Do you have our new internal polls?

Boy: Yes.

Phillip: And Voter? Will he come today?

Boy: Not today Sir, but surely tomorrow.

Annette: Has he been delayed?

Boy: Yes.

Annette: By Crosby/Textor?

Boy: Yes.

Phillip: By slippery John Key?

Boy: Yes.

Annette: By the promise of more tax cuts?

Boy: Not so much.

Phillip: But he will come soon?

Boy: Yes sir. Very soon.

Phillip: Will he come sooner if I sit down?

Boy: Yes sir. Most certainly sir. He would come very quickly then.

Phillip sits.

Phillip: But what if I stand? Will he come even sooner?

Boy: Even sooner, yes sir. Standing is the right thing to do sir.

Phillip stands. His trousers fall down. He looks down and his hat falls off. He bends to catch it and falls over his trousers.

Silence

Annette: Will Voter come tomorrow?

Boy: Almost certainly tomorrow.

Silence

Annette: Have you seen him?

Boy: Voter?

Annette: Yes.

Boy: Most certainly.

Phillip: What does he look like?

Silence

Annette: All right. You may go.

Boy: What am I to tell Voter?

Phillip: Tell him . . . (he hesitates) he can follow me on Twitter.

Boy: Yes sir.

He steps back, turns and exits running. Night falls. The moon rises at the back.

Annette: I wonder if we should part ways. I could stand down as Rongotai MP and run for Mayor of Wellington. I’d wipe the floor with that idiot Prendergast.

Phillip: Nothing is certain.

Annette: No, nothing is certain.

Annette crosses the stage and sits down next to Phillip.

Annette: Well, shall we go?

Phillip: Yes, let’s go.

They do not move.

Act II

Next day. Same time. Same place. Phillips hat is on the ground. The tree has turned into a large open cast mine.

Phillip enters. He walks to either side of the stage and looks around. Then he walks to the middle, picks up the hat, knocks the crown and places it on his head. He starts to sing.

Phillip: Once I ran to you
Now I’ll run from you
This tainted love you’ve given
I give you all a boy could give you
Take my tears and that’s not nearly all
Oh…tainted love

Annette enters. She slowly crosses the stage.

Phillip: You again.

Annette: You were singing.

Phillip: Was I? I didn’t realise.

Annette: Tainted Love by Soft Cell

Phillip: I like the Gloria Jones version.

Annette: I’ve never heard that one.

Phillip: Let’s go and download it.

Annette: We can’t.

Phillip: Why not?

Annette: We’re waiting for Voter.

Phillip: Ah.

Enter Boy, right. Silence.

Boy: Mister Phillip?

Annette: Here we go again.

Phillip: Are you my communications manager?

Boy: Yes sir.

Phillip: Do you have polls?

Boy: Yes sir.

Phillip: And Voter? Will he come today?

Boy: No sir.

Phillip: But he’ll come tomorrow.

Boy: Yes sir. Almost certainly sir.

Silence

Annette: We should formulate a strategy. We must trick Voter into coming.

Phillip: Will that work boy?

Boy: Yes sir. That’s a very good plan sir.

Annette: Key is very poll driven. He only does things he knows will be popular . . .

Phillip: So if we oppose everything he does we will be even more popular!

Boy: I think that will work sir.

Phillip: Sometimes he does things that aren’t popular.

Boy: Sometimes . . .

Phillip: That thing with the smacking.

Annette: If we support him when he does unpopular things.

Phillip: Yes.

Annette: Boy, go and tell Voter of this strategy.

Boy: I will.

The Boy makes to leave.

Phillip: Boy!

The Boy stops. Phillip advances on him.

Phillip: Tell him I have a fierce belief in New Zealand. Tell him . . . (he hesitates) . . . tell him not to listen to Winston Peters.

Phillip lunges for the boy but his trousers fall down and his hat falls off. The Boy exits running. Silence.

Phillip: I don’t trust John Key.

Annette: No.

Phillip: I think he’s planning to privatise everything.

Annette: Yes.

Phillip: And I can’t stand Rodney Hide.

Annette: Yes.

Phillip: They gutted the super-fund.

Annette: Yes.

Phillip: And yet Voter will not come.

Annette: Perhaps Voter will come this evening. Or perhaps tomorrow.

Phillip: Perhaps.

Silence. Phillip picks up his hat, knocks the crown and puts it on his head.

Phillip: (Despondent) Only yesterday I was Minister of Trade. (Suddenly excited) We could move to the centre on social issues and pivot to the left on the economy. Come out with a policy on the super city . . .

Annette: We can’t!

Phillip: Why not?

Annette: We’re waiting for Voter.

Phillip: Ah. (Suddenly despairing) What shall we do? What shall we do? When I have caucus on Monday or dream that I do what shall I say of today? That it’s too early to release policy? That Helen’s early poll numbers were low? That I stood here with my deputy leader Annette until the fall of night and waited for Voter? God I hate that smirking ass Cunliffe. We can’t get any traction in the media! (Pause) I can’t go on! (Pause) What have I said?

His trousers fall down. He slumps down on the ground next to Annette, his hat falls on the ground. Annette picks up the hat, shakes it, knocks the crown and puts it on his head.

Annette: Shall we go then?

Phillip: Yes. Let’s go.

They do not move.