Younger Female (Teens)
Eleanor from High Sticking
[Eleanor is a confused young woman who is banished to a Catholic boarding school by her father. Her only emotional outlet is playing girls field hockey.]
So, I'm a communist. I'll admit it. I think Marx is nifty. Just the kind of guy to bring home to Daddy. "This is Karl my new boyfriend, Daddy. He's gonna grow up one day and throw you and your rich friends into a Gulag." You should see my Dad. I caught him snuffling under my bed one afternoon. He was searching for condoms and drugs in that order but instead he pulls out my pop up book version of "Das Kapital" (where when you pull the little string Karl shakes his fist at passing bourgeoisie) and he freaks out!
"What's this, Eleanor!? Are you a C c c Communist!!?"
"Why of course I am, Daddy. You have made me so."
Whack!! goes the pop up book right on my head. Bang! Biff! Bash! You're nothing but a spoiled brat! Boom! It's all your mother's fault! Bamm!! (a pause) My mother a final parting shot and he storms out.
I feel anger. Cold steel anger beautiful and dangerous anger. What right did he have to rummage through my things? Didn't he realize that I must now have my cold and calculated revenge.
I pack my $2,000 dollar suitcase with designer clothes. I put on my best sweater (Bloomindales 700 dollars) and storm out. Where am I going? It doesn't matter. All I know is that he will follow me wherever I go. I hop in the new Volvo and burn rubber I am only 15. I have never driven a car before in my life. I take out the shrub and picket fence at the property line and start to cruise. He's behind me in the Porsche. If I were James Bond I'd drop the smoke bomb or the oil slick and be gone in a flash but I'm not James Bond so I gun it and take a fast corner destination Bay Street! He follows. Davenport Road. I bump a Renault. I scrape a Rolls. I side swipe a Ferrari. (she laughs) That's right. Get my license plate, boys. Make the repair bills out to my dear Dad. It's kind of nice being a young offender. No responsibilities.
Bay Street you old whore. Good to see you. I screech to a halt. Double park scratch a few fenders and stroll into Daddy's trust company. Up the escalator. Hello, Mary! Hi, Bill! No line ups for me. I'd like my safety deposit box please. Thank you. May I have the key? You're too kind. Back to the top of the stairs. There he is. One story down pushing his way through the people red as a beet. Hey Daddy! Hey Everybody! Scrambles! I empty the contents bonds, deeds, blue chips, jewellery. They cascade down into greedy hands. My father is swallowed up by his customers. He screams, "Mine! Mine! Don't touch!" But it doesn't help. "Scrambles" is the cue for everyone to start behaving like those idiots on Beat the Clock. They rip and tear into each other. Sharks in a feeding frenzy. (she stops) Okay so I didn't do any of this. But that's not the point. The point is nobody insults my mother. That's my job! They're separated but the Church won't give 'em a real divorce so they're still stuck with one another sort of. Daddy made up some dirt on my Mom and then hired the best lawyers and got custody even though I screamed and begged and kissed the judge's ass. He still got me. And...he still gets to me. Y'now?