Page 23 of Drawn Up From Deep Places

In here, darling.

YOUNG JACK

(Bursts in, out of breath)

Mother, it was wonderful, we—

(Sees the basin)

What’s that?

The lid shuts, with a SNAP; the music stops.

MOTHER

My washing. Tell me about your trip.

YOUNG JACK

(Distracted)

Yes, we—

(Peers closer)

—but it’s all . . . red.

MOTHER

Dear, you’re flushed. Really, you mustn’t concern yourself . . .

YOUNG JACK

(Realizing)

Red—it’s blood, isn’t it? It’s full of blood!

MOTHER

(Soothing)

There, there—

(He continues to gasp; she shakes him)

Stop that! Listen to me, will you? Will you listen?

YOUNG JACK

Of course, I . . .

(A beat)

Whose blood is it?

MOTHER

Mine.