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PROLOGUE
Darkness. The sounds of a zoo coming to life. A whistling call. Silence. Some chattering which builds into a chorus, only to be superseded by the roar of a big cat. More birdcall. Hoots, chipchipcharoo. Call and response. Nickering and snorting. The bass rumble of an elephant.
KAREN enters, dressed in a zoo keeper’s uniform.
MATARA appears in the half-light, on the other side of the stage. She’s a 35-year-old Asian elephant represented on stage as an impressionistic video image and/or puppet. MATARA trumpets.
KAREN: Matara. . . “
A long moment. Retreating into the dream.
We’re on a walk — through the river valley — but it’s dark. . .
The trees are shining, shedding light on the path. Or is that the moon? (beat) I don’t know where we’re going but we’re in a hurry.
We hear an elephant trumpeting, layered on top of the sounds of the other zoo animals.
We walk and walk along the valley that was carved out during the ice ages for our. . . procession. Down to the water. To the river.