Title: I AM NERVOUS, a phone called from my mother.
Venue: B105, Central Saint Martins, University of the Arts London.
Date: 19 May 2016
Performer: Panita Karnkunwithit, Louis King
Props: electric piano, robe, crayon colours, paper.
An autobiographical performance. A story telling by an autistic's sister who shares a real incident from her family experience, once her autistic brother was disappeared for a night.
Script:
I AM NERVOUS, a phone-call from my mother
by Panita Karnkunwithit
(Panita starts playing Beethoven’s Pathétique.
After a minute (or less) her phone rings.
She stops playing. )
This happened five years ago. I was twenty-two; I was living in Bangkok; my best friend at
that point in life liked Korean barbeque pork. I am now twenty-seven; I live in London and my
best friend’s favourite dish is —
So, one day I got a phone call from mother. My brother disappeared (Louis appears into the
space, he ties his hands with rope and start to draw a portrait of Panita) Shocked. Worried. I
stopped eating. I stopped playing. The air that surrounds me smells of Korean pork.
We were having lunch. Or, were about to have lunch. I was rehearsing Beethoven’s Piano
Sonata, Pathetique. My friend was going to play Chopin. Pathétique means pathetic; having
your brother disappeared is not pathetic. I feel really sad; I’m twenty-two I’m next to
Beethoven’s Pathetique and I cannot play. I cannot eat Korean food and I cannot play
Beethoven. Taxi.
But did you fight? Where were you at that time? Did he asked you to buy something and you
didn’t want to? Mae. Mae. MAE. I’m twenty-two, my brother has disappeared and I’m shouting
at my mother in the back of a taxi. Pathétique.
They were shopping at a department store. A mother that goes with her son shopping while
her other daughter is rehearsing for a piano concert — in Bangkok and in London — that is a
happy life.
But now, after being shouted at by her daughter and freaking out, the mother tells her
daughter — me — that they met a friend at the department store. There are only two options
really: my brother disappeared because he might have felt awkward with a stranger or
Being in a taxi in Bangkok after not eating Korean food and NOT playing Beethoven you
instantly think of when was the last time your family was together.
A normal Thai breakfast: rice, vegetables, pork, omelette. I’m nervous; the concert is in two
weeks. My brother says nothing. My father goes to work. I’m nervous. My brother, nothing.
Nervous. Nothing. Tea, rice, vegetables, pork, omelette, nervous. My brother gives me a hug
and wishes me luck. My brother is autistic. Asperger. He has always hugged me and wished
me luck whenever I needed it.
Beat.
I’m still nervous.
I get to the department store. My mother told me to meet her in the surveillance control room,
where all the cameras are monitored. I run. My mother is surrounded by a labyrinth of
screens and my brother is in none of them.
But he’s been talking about an independent life, how’s it going to be in a few years when he
becomes an adult, and he’s on his own and without the family. But right now, he is alone, he
is without us and we are without him. I’m still nervous. Surveillance cameras of a department
store: Pathétique.
When you’re shopping with your mom you just don’t stop everything and decide to take a
walk. Well, you don’t. But my brother would; I don’t know if because he’s my brother or
because of the Asperger.
Mom. Surveillance cameras. Go back to the shops. Ask. Ask. Ask. Askaskask. Ask. No
answers. Call him. No answers. HE DOESN’T PICK UP. Parking lot. Let’s. Ask. Ask. Ask.
Shops. HE DOESN’T PICK UP. HE DOESN’T PICK UP. Drive around. Ask. Ask Ask. Ask
questions. Ask questions. Ask questions. HE DOESN’T PICK UP.
(Playing Pathétique, SUPER FAST AND SUPER LOUD)
HE DOESN’T PICKUPOLICE STATION NUMBER ONE. Go in. Describe your brother. Fill in
forms. Think of Beethoven. HE DOESN’T PICK UP.
POLICE STATION NUMBER TWO. Go in. Describe your brother. Autism. Asperger. Fill in the
forms. Fill in the forms. Ask questions. Answer questions. Policemen in the night time of
Bangkok eating Korean food. Beethoven. HE DOESN’T ——
Call to the radio station. Autism. Asperger. He looks like... He was wearing... Disappeared...
Last time was seen: JJ Mall... Six million people in Bangkok now know that my brother has
disappeared. They all imagine how it feels to have a disappeared brother in the night of
Bangkok. My brother doesn’t imagine this. He just disappears into the nighttime of Bangkok.
Drive. Game shops. We drive to each of the sky train stations: Mochit. Saphan Kwai. Ari.
Sanam Pao. Victory Monument. Phaya Thai, Ratchathewi. Siam. HE DOESN’T PICK UP.
No more questions to be asked. Just drive around.
Wait.
.
Nine a.m. in the morning. We go back to the department store; a place of shops, surveillance
cameras and unanswered questions. We wait. He doesn’t pick up the phone. Wait. Wait.
Wait. Try not to fall asleep in the car. But wait and wait and wait and ——— Dad? It’s your
brother. He is with your father. He just got home. And what did he say? He just said sorry...
YOU’RE SORRY?! YOU’RE SORRY?! WE’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU. NINE HOURS
OF SHOCK, SADNESS, DESPAIR AND POLICE STATIONS AND YOU ONLY SAY
SORRY?! I CANNOT BE UPSET. I CANNOT. BUT YOU ONLY SAY FUCKING SORRY.
AND I HAVE TO FUCKING PRACTICE BEETHOVEN FOR A CONCERT THAT’S IN TWO
WEEKS AND YOU ONLY SAY————
I take a shower. I go to sleep. I can start thinking of Beethoven again. I can start thinking of
Korean pork again. He just said sorry.
After a lot of Korean pork: Pathétique.
(Play Pathétique 2 bars.
Brother goes and sit with the audience.)
I’m twenty-seven now and, in London, I still play Pathétique. I miss vegetables, Thai
breakfasts with omelette, tea and rice. I have best friends here but I don’t know their favourite
dish. I will never play concerts with them. My phone is always waiting for that phone call. That
he has disappeared again. And I cannot take a taxi now.
This happened five years ago: a phone call from mother.
(Continue playing Pathétique until I cannot remember the notes.)
