Script

SIDE 1

You see there? Over near the river? There was once a shoe polish factory there. It was a rickety old building, filled with river rats. I went to work there when I was twelve.

(The ORPHANS all become factory workers, laboring in slow motion to create a factory tableau.)

Eleven hours a day, six days a week, I sat at a table, pasting labels onto shoe polish pots-

JACK

You were only twelve?

MR. DICKENS

Yes. And I lived alone.

ANNIE

Were you an orphan?

MR. DICKENS

No. I had parents. My father was a good man, but as hard as he worked, he still couldn't pay his bills. So he was sent to a debtors' prison across the river. My mother went there to live with him.

JACK

Wait a minute. You mean your dad was sent to prison because he couldn't pay his bills?

MR. DICKENS

Yes.

JACK

That doesn't make sense. How could he earn the money to pay his bills if he was in prison?

MR. DICKENS

That is a very good question.

ANNIE

But at least things are different for you now. You're a famous writer. That should make you feel better.

MR. DICKENS

How? How can that make me feel better? What is writing? Just ink on a page.

ANNIE

Ink on a page?

MR. DICKENS

Yes! Don't you see? Writing isn't food for the hungry. It's not medicine for the sick. Perhaps - perhaps I should give up my writing altogether.

ANNIE

Oh, no. You can't do that.

MR. DICKENS

It seems so foolish and vain!

JACK

But-

MR. DICKENS

(an epiphany)

No! I have decided: I shall write no more! Be kind, children,
 and leave me now. I need to be alone.

SIDE 2

MR. DICKENS

What seems to be the problem, Officer?

POLICEMAN

The boy stole this bag, sir.

(Murmurs from the CROWD: "Yes. Yes he stole it. Caught him with it, we did.")

MR. DICKENS

When? When did he steal that bag?

POLICEMAN

Just now, sir. They caught him trying to run off with it.

MR. DICKENS

Well, I'm afraid you're mistaken, Officer. Those lads were working at my house earlier today. They had that green bag with them.

POLICEMAN

Ah, did they now?

(The POLICEMAN gives EMMA and OLIVE a look. They start to slink away and then make a run for it.)

MR. DICKENS

This lad is innocent!

(More CROWD murmurs. "Innocent? He's innocent? How can that be?" MR. DICKENS seizes the opportunity to lecture the CROWD.)

Do you see what has happened here? If I had not come along, the courts might have thrown this boy in jail for years. Why? Because he has soot on his face and holes in his shoes. How do you think this lad got so dirty? I'll tell you how. From honest work!

POLICEMAN

Mr. Dickens, forgive me. I'll release him at once.

MR. DICKENS

Yes, Officer, release this lad. Return his bag, and think twice before you arrest another child just because he is ragged and poor.

SIDE 3

YOUNG DICKENS

Just one chapter more, Mother. Or maybe two.

MRS. DICKENS

(smiling, with deep affection)

You and your stories.

YOUNG DICKENS

(reading aloud) "Aladdin retired to his chamber, brought out the lamp and rubbed it, and when the genie appeared to him he said: 'ask whatever you want...'"

(MR. DICKENS dramatically quotes the last line from memory along with YOUNG DICKENS.)


YOUNG DICKENS, MR. DICKENS:

"'...for I am the servant of anyone who holds the lamp!'"

(MR. DICKENS laughs with joy.)

WHITE GHOST

Ah, you remember!

MR. DICKENS

Yes! It is me! The Arabian Nights! I loved that book! That book took me to palaces and mountains! I felt I'd met queens and kings and princesses!


(During the above, MRS. DICKENS tucks YOUNG DICKENS into bed, kisses him goodnight and blows out his lamp.)

WHITE GHOST

Yes, books can do that.

(The WHITE GHOST raises his hand in farewell to MR. DICKENS.)

MR. DICKENS

Wait! Don't go! Let me linger in this happy moment a while longer!

SIDE 4

GREEN GHOST

Well, well, well, Mr. Dickens! I understand you've recently decided to give up writing.

MR. DICKENS

Yes, it seems, it seems... pointless... and I want to help the world.


GREEN GHOST

And your books have no power to help the world?

(We see a small classroom. The teacher, MISS TWIGBY, stands before her class.)

MISS TWIGBY

So, class, what did we learn today from Mr. Dickens' book?

(A small girl, SARA, raises her hand. MISS TWIGBY points to her.)

SARA

We learned that (clearly quoting) "No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another."


(More GIRLS eagerly raise their hands and begin giving answers before they are called upon.)

GIRL #1

I learned that "A loving heart is the truest wisdom."

GIRL #2

Oh, oh, I learned that "Happiness is a gift-"

GIRL #3

Yes! "And the trick is not to expect it-"

GIRL #4

"-but to delight in it when it comes."

MISS TWIGBY

Well done.

CLASS

Well done! Well done! Well done!

(The CLASS applauds.)

MR. DICKENS

Those are all things I wrote! And things I believe! And they learned them from my books?

GREEN GHOST

Yes - and now they believe them, too. Pity writing is so foolish and vain. But shhhh!

SIDE 5

MR. DICKENS

That's a tombstone. A gravesite. Why - do you show me this scene of grief?

(The BLACK GHOST points to MARY.)

MOURNER #1

There, there, Miss Dickens.

MR. DICKENS

"Miss Dickens??" Is that Mary? Is that my daughter? All grown up?

(The BLACK GHOST points to the tombstone.)

MR. DICKENS

It's my name! My name is on that tombstone!

(Thunder.)

MARY

Poor Papa. How sad that he stopped writing when he was so young& He had so many stories inside of him& stories of hipe and love and goodness& it seems almost selfish to leave so many tales untold& If he'd given his gifts to the world he might have touched the hearts of millions.

MR. DICKENS

Stop! Stop! I can't bear it!

(The GHOST CHORUS makes a whooshing sound.)

MR. DICKENS

(to the BLACK GHOST)

Wait! You must answer me this! Is what you show me the shadow of what will be, or... merely what might be? Do I... have the power to alter this dreadful fate?

(The BLACK GHOST nods solemnly.)

Then yes! Yes! Tell Mary I've changed my mind! I will keep writing! I WILL KEEP WRITING!!!

(JACK and ANNIE give each other a joyful "mission accomplished" thumbs up.)