Beginning work on the first Mrs. Hawking sequel

The other day I sat down to work on editing the play I wrote for my thesis. Which meant, being me, I could not focus on it at all and felt compelled to work only on another project. The bright side of this was that what I worked on was a concrete idea for the first sequel to Mrs. Hawking. I have an idea for the direction of the plot, and what the next stage of the arcs of the characters will be. To that last end, I wrote this very short scene to give you a taste of where the conflict is going.

I picture Nathaniel wanting to get involved more with helping Mrs. Hawking in her superheroing work. Now that he's onboard, he's enthusiastic, but perhaps not as swift at picking the tricks up as Mary was. But Mrs. Hawking is not making it as easy for him as she could be, and after he is frustrated to find that she seems to be shutting him out his efforts to contribute, he finally calls her on it. It's not exactly a departure from my preferred style of scene writing that involves "You know that thing you don't want to talk about? Well, we're going to talk about it now!" but I think with some polishing it could be an interesting and character-revealing scene.

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NATHANIEL: Aunt Victoria— why won’t you trust me?

MRS. HAWKING: Oh, do spare me, Nathaniel.

NATHANIEL: No. No, you mustn’t put me off. I know I haven’t been the quickest study when it comes to this business of yours, but I’ve been giving it a serious go. I surely do mean to be of help to you, and by God, on occasion I even have. Isn’t that so?

MRS. HAWKING: Yes. You have.

NATHANIEL: Then… why won’t you let me on? Really let me on? Is it— is it because I’m a man?

MRS. HAWKING: Nathaniel.

NATHANIEL: Is it because I’m not clever enough? Do you think that once in a tough spot, I’ll lose my head and disappoint—

MRS. HAWKING: You look so much like him!

(Pause.)

MRS. HAWKING: Too damn much.

MARY: Like whom? Do you mean— the Colonel?

NATHANIEL: You never told me that. Others have, but not you.

(MARY looks to the portrait on the mantle.)

MARY: I never noticed it.

MRS. HAWKING: The years and the whiskers throw it off, but all the men in the family have that look. Your father, your uncle, and you. Your boy will have it too before long. Strong jaw, devil-may-care grin, handsome as the day is long. The sort of face to win anything a man could want in the world. But that was face I first looked into twenty years ago when a promising young soldier was first transferred to New Guinea and trammeled up my life forever. The same eyes from which I had to hide everything of any meaning to me so I might be permitted to have it.

NATHANIEL: I don’t want you to feel that way about me anymore.

MRS. HAWKING: I know that, and not for nothing. But the years I lost and the pains I took…

NATHANIEL: I know.

MRS. HAWKING: Yes. Now you know. So it galls me, boy. I tell you, it galls me to look into those eyes and that face and give all the game away to them.

NATHANIEL: I can’t help who I look like.

MRS. HAWKING: No. But all the same, he’s in everything in you. His blood and his name and every effort in the world to be just like him.

NATHANIEL: But… I’m not like him.

MRS. HAWKING: To your eternal sorrow.

NATHANIEL: Still. I’m not him. I can learn better.

(Pause.)

NATHANIEL: And I mean to. But I’ll need you to teach me. I can’t do it without you.

(NATHANIEL draws himself up with a quiet, cold dignity.)

NATHANIEL: Rather… none of could. The Colonel neither. Because the God’s honest truth is you don’t know if he couldn’t have learned. You never gave him the chance.

(NATHANIEL turns and strides quickly from the room.)