From the Personal Reels of Percival Alfred Unck

[A black cloth lies over the lens. A demand to shut the damn thing off has been made and ignored, but the cloth makes Clara look benign. Shapes move indistinctly across the room. SEVERIN UNCK, sixteen years old, sits in silhouette, her hair longer than it will ever be again.]

PERCIVAL UNCK

It’s for your own good, my little hippopotamus.

SEVERIN

Don’t call me that. There are more lies in this house than wallpaper. Don’t pile on any new ones. The roof won’t stand the weight.

PERCIVAL

Ada said you can stay with her until this has all blown over. We’ll go after the New Year’s parade. If you’d rather a flat in the city, perhaps we can come to some arrangement …

SEVERIN

What about Mary?

PERCIVAL

Mary’s shooting on location this year.

SEVERIN

[begins to cry] Why? Papa, I want to stay here. This is my home. Don’t you love me?

PERCIVAL

I am disruptive to your life right now. And … you are disruptive to mine. I love you, but there’s a great deal of trouble at the moment.

SEVERIN

Oh, there’s always trouble. There’s always something. Some reason I’m inconvenient. Some excuse to stay away. What kind of trouble now?

PERCIVAL

People … people are saying I shot someone.

SEVERIN

[SEVERIN pulls away.] Uncle Thad? [Percival does not answer.] Did you?

PERCIVAL

Rinny, it’s very complicated …

SEVERIN

Oh my god.

PERCIVAL

{He reaches out for her, his shadow for her shadow.] Darling, listen.

SEVERIN

No, don’t touch me. Call Ada. I won’t stay in this house another second.

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