I wrote this play in early 2026, and submitted it to the Alaska Statewide 8x10 Playwright Festival. It was selected as one of the eight plays performed in a staged reading on May 8th and 9th at the Riverside Theatre in Fairbanks. I was asked to act in the ensemble cast, and thus had the chance to play a fictionalized version of my mother.
It's an intentionally goofy play, but also a heartfelt tribute. I'm sharing this the day after the conclusion of the festival, which happens to be Mother's Day. Serendipitous!
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| My mother in Phnom Penh Cambodia, early 1960s. (She sewed the dress herself, too.) |
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| Angkor Wat |
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| Phnom Penh from the air, early 1960s |
Cipher
A ten-minute play
In memory of my mother
who (probably)
wasn’t a spy.
Setting
The Sharing Rainbow Memory Care Facility.
Anywhere in the United States.
Tuesday, April 7th, ten minutes before lunchtime.
Characters
BRITTNEY, a care worker, female, 18-25
JOAN, a resident, female, 80s-90s
CHARLES, a resident, male, 80s-90s
Costumes
BRITTNEY wears a nametag and casual comfortable clothes, possibly scrubs
JOAN and CHARLES both wear casual comfortable clothes. Each has a cane.
Set
Two chairs are grouped close to one another, with a small table between them. A third chair sits a short distance away.
Props
A few magazines and books
A printed page with “This Week’s Calendar” at the top in a large font and various listings below (e. g. menus, activities).
Notes
If possible, JOAN should speak with a British accent: standard received pronunciation (RP), nothing too exaggerated, too posh, or too distinctly regional. BRITTNEY and CHARLES both speak with American accents (nothing too distinctly regional).
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
[LIGHTS UP. JOAN is sitting in one of two chairs by a small table with books and magazines. She’s flipping through them as if looking for a hidden clue. Charles is sitting a little way off, nodding as if half asleep. BRITTNEY enters. She looks tired.]
JOAN
[Spotting BRITTNEY] Hello there! [Anxious, confused] Silly question, but I wonder if you could tell me what day it is today?
BRITTNEY
[Approaching JOAN, trying hard to be cheerful] Hi, Joan! Today is Tuesday. We’ll have split pea soup and salad for lunch. Would you like this week’s schedule? [Pulls a paper from her pocket.]
JOAN
Oh, you’re American!
BRITTNEY
Yes, I’m American…
JOAN
You must be from their embassy? It’s wonderful to meet someone new! It’s been so dreadfully lonely since the evacuations.
BRITTNEY
[Checking schedule, not really listening] …and lunch will be in ten minutes.
JOAN
[To herself] Lovely people, the Americans. It’s such a shame about Vietnam. [Pause, worried, to BRITTNEY] I’m sorry, it’s Tuesday…?
BRITTNEY
Yes, and lunch is always split pea soup on Tuesdays. [Proffers schedule] Tuesday, April 7th.
JOAN
First Tuesday of the month! I ought to be collecting the new code books!
BRITTNEY
You want more books? I’ve got plenty of books.
JOAN
Oh! You must me the Yanks’ new cryptographer? I’m so glad the Americans are giving young women plum jobs.
BRITTNEY
Plum jobs? [Sadly, looking around at her surroundings] Um…I’m… glad to have work.
JOAN
I suppose that has to do with Vietnam, too—too many of your blokes are in fatigues on the other side of the border. And after the riots…[worried again] I’m sorry, do you know the date?
BRITTNEY
Tuesday, April 7th.
JOAN
The first Tuesday! We’ll need the new books. Haven’t had any since… it was March 11th. We had to burn all the ciphers. I expect your lot did, too. Absolutely choking in the smoke, with rocks and glass coming at us all the while.
BRITTNEY
[Finally registering what Joan is saying] You burned… the codes?
JOAN
And the classified documents, secret files. I know, we really musn’t talk about… [Looks around covertly and gestures to CHARLES] Do you think that elderly gentleman is listening to us?
BRITTNEY
Who, Charles?
JOAN
Charles? Funny, is that his name? Rings a bell. Charles. Is he listening?
BRITTNEY
[Glancing over] I think he’s taking a nap.
JOAN
But they do that, don’t they? Pretend quite convincingly to be paying no attention whatsoever?
BRITTNEY
Who does?
JOAN
Moles.
BRITTNEY
Moles?
JOAN
Spies.
BRITTNEY
Spies!
JOAN
Oh, don’t worry, I shan’t ask you too many questions. Wouldn’t do, with us being from different embassies. But… [sincere] I do hope we can be friends.
BRITTNEY
[Reflexively, reciting] We’re all friends here at Sharing Rainbow.
JOAN
Operation Sharing Rainbow, is it? [Laughing] Goodness, you Yanks! I daresay you print your OTPs on nitrocellulose. Tip-top secret!
BRITTNEY
Nitrocellulose? OTPs?
JOAN
You know, the books. OTPS. One-time-pads. Absolutely uncrackable ciphertext, but of course they musn’t be reused, and it’s a bit tricky getting more.
BRITTNEY
[Genuinely interested, forgetting her facade] So, how do you get more?
JOAN
[Happy thought] Oh – it’ll be jolly! You and I will fly to Bangkok together, each chained to our own mail bag! The bags get their own seats. Speaking of seats, please do sit down.
[JOAN gestures to the nearby empty chair. BRITTNEY hesitates momentarily, then sits.]
BRITTNEY
I shouldn’t, really.
JOAN
Oh, please do! I’m only teasing, you know, about Yanks. The anglophone population was already so small here in Phnom Penh... and then with everyone flown out in such a hurry… Not that Cambodia isn’t a lovely country, all that ancient history – have you visited Angkor Wat yet? -- but it can be so terribly lonely if you haven’t anyone to talk to.
BRITTNEY
[Genuine] Yeah. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. I… often don’t.
JOAN
[Wistful] Yes. No dances…and never mind finding a decent chap to… Never mind! You and I shall have to have some fun on our own, bother the restrictions – Siem Reap, Bokor. Thousand year old temples, mountain climbing! Have you learned any Khmer, or French?
BRITTNEY
Mais oui! My grandmother... I lived with her… [sadly] until last month…
JOAN
[Reaching out and squeezing BRITTNEY’s hand] I had a grandmère, too – Mum’s mum.
BRITTNEY
[Squeezing back, taking comfort before letting go] So… you speak French?
JOAN
I worked in Switzerland right out of school, so I got quite decent at it, but of course French isn’t exactly popular now that the Cambodians are making a go of it as a free country.
BRITTNEY
Oh… French colonialism? Not great.
JOAN
Not that we Brits have done better!
BRITTNEY
[Joking] We Americans had to fight you off, yeah.
JOAN
[Teasing back] But you still speak our language.
BRITTNEY
Sort of! How many languages do you speak?
JOAN
English, French… schoolgirl Latin [Laughs]. To be honest, I don’t know much Khmer. I did better with Turkish, but I still made a hash of it, the first time I went to the street market in Ankara.
BRITTNEY
Did you use the wrong words?
JOAN
The right words… but it turns out that one doesn’t ask for a cucumber in polite company.
BRITTNEY
Cucumber? [Gets the innuendo, and laughs loudly] Ohhhh!
JOAN
[Mischievous] I ought to have said salatalık, a “salad vegetable”. [Laughs, then pauses, suddenly confused.] Turkey is… was… later, though? [Getting upset] Why is it all so muddled?
BRITTNEY
[Quickly, putting a hand on JOAN’s arm] Tell me more about Cambodia, then. The OTPs.
JOAN
Oh yes! The encryption’s quite easy really, once you get the hang of it. Just simple maths.
BRITTNEY
I’m actually pretty good at math.
JOAN
Splendid! Have you considered going to university? Loads of women do, now.
BRITTNEY
I’m…trying. Engineering. Part-time. I have to work my way. It’s hard.
JOAN
Oh, yes! But I’d much rather do the difficult things than the dull ones, wouldn’t you? All the things young women simply “don’t do”…[Pause] I’m sorry, what were we talking about?
BRITTNEY
Cambodia. Codes.
JOAN
Yes! But… [Looks at CHARLES] Do you think that old man is listening?
BRITTNEY
[Enjoying herself] You never know. He could be a spy. What about you? Are you a spy?
JOAN
What a question! I’m a perfectly respectable secretary for the British Foreign Service.
BRITTNEY
[Grinning] Okay, then, is Charles a spy?
JOAN
Charles? Is that his name? You know… yes, I rather fancy he is. Quite an obvious one, really.
BRITTNEY
Yes! And… [remembering her duties] I should probably go check on him.
JOAN
He won’t just up and tell you. They never do. Dodgy lot, moles, but sometimes they’re… not so bad. On the side of peace. [Shakes her head, laughs, talking to herself] And such good fun at parties. [To BRITTNEY] Go on, ask him.
[BRITTNEY stands and approaches CHARLES.]
BRITTNEY
Lunchtime in five minutes, Charles! It’s Tuesday today, so we’re having split pea soup and salad.
CHARLES
[Vague, polite] Soup? Yes, thank you.
[BRITTNEY turns to look back at JOAN, who grins and makes a gesture encouraging her to go on.]
BRITTNEY
[Trying to suppress a giggle] Also, we’d like to know if you’re a spy.
JOAN
[Raising her voice to talk to CHARLES] It’s all right, we aren’t going to turn you over to Sihanouk, although it’d probably serve you right.
CHARLES
[Suddenly awake and alert] We maintain very good diplomatic relations with Prince Sihanouk!
BRITTNEY
Wait, you… what?
JOAN
I suppose that’s why he had your embassy sacked? And ours, too, for good measure.
BRITTNEY
Sacked? Like, attacked?
CHARLES
That’s hearsay.
JOAN
Bollocks. Granted, maybe it wasn’t Sihanouk’s doing. He’s not a bad chap—just surrounded by too many powerful forces. But don’t tell me we weren’t sacked. Absolute mess. A thousand people bashed everything to bits. We hid upstairs. They got through the grille. I was there.
CHARLES
But… afterwards… the British Embassy was evacuated…all but Ambassador Murray.
JOAN
All but Peter Murray and his secretary.
BRITTNEY
His secretary?
JOAN
Peter can’t decode messages. Or type, for that matter. Neither can the new bloke, Leslie Fielding. And he barely knows French. [Loudly to CHARLES again] None of them can type.
BRITTNEY
Ha! Probably the secretaries did all the real work.
JOAN
[Smiling conspiratorially at BRITTNEY] Of course we do.
CHARLES
Oh… [remembering] Yes, the British Ambassador’s secretary! [To himself, in fond but awed tones] Such a great girl—but tough as nails when she wanted to be. Terrifyingly smart.
JOAN
[To BRITTNEY] Better to be known as a bluestocking than a floozy. Less fun, though.
CHARLES
[Still talking to himself, in rapt memory] She had slightly crooked teeth when she smiled. Long hair, when she let it down from that bun. A whiz at math. Could type a hundred words a minute. On a manual typewriter. In French. I would’ve asked her out if I’d had more guts.
BRITTNEY
Way out of his league.
JOAN
Great fun, though. Danced a brilliant twist.
CHARLES
She stayed on, but [confused] our embassy shut down entirely? When was that?
JOAN
[To BRITTNEY] My posting ended. Dreadful years for Cambodia, soon after.
CHARLES
Awful years. I was… Vietnam border. Trying to help... She went on to Turkey.
JOAN
[To BRITTNEY] No… no. First I…I spent six months working for the Home Office in London.
CHARLES
Incredible girl.
JOAN
[Remembering] Translating, typing. Plans for a tunnel. Under the English Channel.
BRITTNEY
[Impressed] The Chunnel!?
JOAN
Geological survey. French diplomats. I trotted between embassies with it all tucked in my bag. Oui, monsieur, ce sont les documents officiels. Good fun. All a bit hush-hush.
CHARLES
I ought to have kept up with her. Sent her letters.
JOAN
[Turning suddenly and speaking to CHARLES] Dead-letter-drop. Banyan roots.
CHARLES
[Immediately, in response] East north-east, Wat Phnom Daun Penh.
JOAN
Destroy after reading.
BRITTNEY
[Short silence as she looks at CHARLES, then back at JOAN] So… let me get this right…in the early sixties, not long after you finished high school, you became fluent in French in Switzerland, learned cryptography in Cambodia, survived a mob attacking the embassy, helped plan the Chunnel, and then… still totally not a spy… went to Turkey?
JOAN
Oh, yes, Turkey! Of course. Ankara!
BRITTNEY
Where you asked for cucumbers in the marketplace?
JOAN
[Laughing] How on earth did you guess?
BRITTNEY
[Teasing] It’s always split pea soup and salatalık for lunch on Tuesdays.
JOAN
[Laughs, then pauses] Tuesdays! Oh, but… Silly question, but could you tell me what day it is?
BRITTNEY
Tuesday, April 7th. And it’s lunchtime now. Would you like to…
JOAN
Ah, yes… but, I’m afraid this is embarrassing… can you remind me of… the year?
BRITTNEY
It’s.. [Not sure she wants to reveal the truth] …well, it’s 2026.
JOAN
Goodness! [Shocked pause] Is it really? [Doing math in her head] I must be… so terribly old. [Looks at her hands and laughs ruefully] Yes, wrinkles absolutely everywhere. [Touches her face and mouth] And teeth still crooked to boot. [To herself, bravely] Never mind. Chin up. Carry on.
[JOAN spots her cane, and grabs it. She stands slowly, determined. BRITTNEY moves as if to help, but stops. JOAN steps toward CHARLES. He sees her and stands, with his cane, meeting her. They take stock of one another. CHARLES holds out his hand).]
CHARLES
Charles Goodwin.
JOAN
[Shaking his hand firmly] Yes, you are, aren’t you? Joan Mallow.
CHARLES
Yes. Yes, and… Joan… I’ve… been meaning to ask … for quite some time… if you’d like to have lunch with me?
BRITTNEY
Lunch is this way. [Gestures offstage] Right now.
JOAN
[Smiling at CHARLES, chin slightly raised, confident] How serendipitous! I’ll be having lunch with my good friend… [Lacking a name, she gestures grandly to BRITTNEY]. But I don’t think we’d mind a third at our table, would we?
BRITTNEY
[Genuinely happy] I’d be delighted.
[The three of them move toward the exit.]
CHARLES
[Very cheerful] I wonder what’s on the lunch menu today?
JOAN
[Playful] Absolutely no idea. But I could fancy some hot
soup… and a nice salad.
[LIGHTS DOWN. END OF PLAY]
