Characters:

FAITH: A 13-year-old second-generation Iranian-American girl. Sheltered from the traumas and conflict of the world, attached to her phone, often self-conscious, defensive, and headstrong, but curious and sensitive inside. An only child.

DAD: Faith’s dad, an Iranian immigrant. Emotional, wise, and resilient. Carries past trauma, struggles to connect with his daughter but cares for her deeply. A hard-working scientist and divorced father.

ENSEMBLE/CREW: A flexible group that acts as both the characters in DAD’s past and the stage crew. They handle the technical aspects of the production, use their body and voice to create desired effects, and portray scenes in DAD’s flashbacks. Some ENSEMBLE members have speaking parts and costumes. The rest wear uniform clothing.

Stage:

Preferably a simple black stage, no backdrop necessary.

A visible ramp or platform angled stage right, leading offstage to suggest the unseen cruise ship. 

A bench on stage right beside the ramp where FAITH and DAD sit during DAD’s retelling of his past in Iran.

Begin with floodlights or a general wash of the stage, then transition into overhead stage lights and spotlights as the stage directions suggest.

The use of sound effects, visuals, props, and stage pieces is at the director’s discretion.

Location:

The World Cruise Center in San Pedro, California, which is just outside of Los Angeles where FAITH and DAD live.

Time:

21st century, modern-day

Scene 1

(FAITH and DAD enter from stage left, dragging their luggage. They stop at center stage. It is a sunny day, and there is indistinct chatter in the background as well as the sounds of rolling luggage, a ship horn, and gentle waves.)

DAD: Babayi, close the phone. We’re here.

FAITH: (speaking to the phone) Wait, wait, hold on. (to DAD) What?

DAD: Just look around. We’re about to board the cruise in ten minutes. Hang up your phone, Faith!

FAITH: (returning to her phone) Yeah, I gotta go. I’ll call you back after my trip. (looks up at the ship, overwhelmed) Oh crap. You didn’t tell me it would be so…colossal. Are we living on the sea for the entire two weeks? 

DAD: Yeah. It’s going to be fun! Your mom and I agreed that we’d get to spend time together for your thirteenth birthday.

FAITH: (rambling) But what if it’s like that Titan submersible thing on the news? Remember, the one that imploded going to the Titanic? Everyone died. A teenager was on that! And anyway, what about the Titanic itself? What if this cruise ship sinks? We'll end up like Jack from the Titanic—frozen at the bottom of the Atlantic. (fumbles, then blurts out dramatically) The Fallen Jacks! The fightless Titans!

DAD: Honey, that will not happen—well, at least not this time. Didn’t you complain that we don’t spend enough time together? 

FAITH: Ugh, I just don’t want to go. 

(DAD reaches for FAITH’s hand, but she aggressively slaps it away, recoiling as she tries to cover her face.)

DAD: Faith, enough. This is not how you treat your father. 

(FAITH rolls her eyes and reaches for her phone.)

DAD: Get yourself together, Faith. We are getting ready to board. Enough with the phone!

(As DAD talks, eerie laughter and taunting ad libs rise from the ENSEMBLE backstage as they are mocking FAITH. But it is only in FAITH’s self-conscious mind. When FAITH and DAD turn around to look, the sounds vanish.)

FAITH: Dad, stop! People are looking at us. 

(FAITH and DAD look around.)

DAD: There is nobody here.

FAITH: Oh my gosh, you’re embarrassing me!

DAD: Faith, just listen—

FAITH: NO. Take me back to mom’s. 

DAD: (with quiet urgency) Time is running thin. Going to your mom’s is not an option, Faith. 

FAITH: Dad I seriously don’t wanna go!

DAD: (grows more horrified) They’ll leave us behind.

FAITH: I can’t do this. Those sunken people—

(The lights suddenly dim on FAITH. A spotlight isolates DAD. A flashback scene takes place on stage left under an overhead stagelight. Members of the ENSEMBLE step into roles: one portrays TEENAGE DAD as a refugee, one plays Dad’s SISTER, one becomes Dad’s FRIEND, and another plays a REFUGEE SMUGGLER. Stage pieces such as a tarp or a simple boat structure can be incorporated to make the scene more dynamic.)

TEENAGE DAD: I can’t do this.

REFUGEE SMUGGLER: There’s not much time. The guards will survey our direction at exactly 23:32. You must carefully follow my instructions. When I say so, get into the boat and lie quietly beneath the casks of oil. If they approach us, you cannot make a sound. They might poke around or stomp on the barrels—but until you are found, you remain as dead as the dark.

(A pause. REFUGEE SMUGGLER waits until he thinks it’s time.)

REFUGEE SMUGGLER: Now, hurry on the boat!

(SISTER and FRIEND creep into the boat and duck. TEENAGE DAD stands frozen, paralyzed. Footsteps begin approaching.)

REFUGEE SMUGGLER: What are you doing—I said go, GO!

(The footsteps grow louder as confused murmurs rise. TEENAGE DAD looks like he’s seen a ghost. He shakes his head.)

TEENAGE DAD: (whispers) I can’t do this.

(A whistle is heard. Flashlights shine. A shrill scream comes from offstage. The lights immediately dim on the flashback scene and turn back to FAITH and DAD.)

FAITH: Dad, are you okay? 

DAD: (to FAITH) I SAID WE’RE GOING ON THE BOAT. NOW. 

(DAD takes a deep breath and collects himself.)

(beat) I-I’m sorry, I was just…just…thinking about something else.

FAITH: I’m sorry Daddy.

DAD: It has nothing to do with you. (beat) Rather, my past.

FAITH: Your past?

DAD: (DAD gestures towards a bench, and they both sit down. DAD looks off into the distance. He sighs.) Boats are scary, huh?

FAITH: To me, yes.

DAD: Let me tell you something. (beat) I was once terrified of boats too. Back in Iran, around your age. Life was great before that, I mean. Private school, vacations in Paris and London, and gosh, Mamani’s food was the best! Even after my dad died, Mamani tried to give us everything she possibly could.

FAITH: Did you ever miss your dad? (beat) When he was gone?

DAD: I was too young when he died. Don’t really remember him. But Mamani says we have one thing in common: we don’t like to take risks. We’re the kind of boring, stable guys.

FAITH: Oh. Well then, why did you say you were afraid of boats?

DAD: I never told you this before, but there was a war in my country. Right after a revolution. Conflicts rose between Iran and our neighboring country, Iraq. 

(Flashback on stage left under floodlights. Members of the ENSEMBLE play Iraqi soldiers marching into Iran. The rest of the ENSEMBLE represent Iranian citizens, holding up signs in symbolic resistance. Two separate spotlights isolate FAITH and DAD. They are watching from afar.)

ENSEMBLE: War! War until victory! Defend the homeland!

DAD: Those were scary times. (beat) My neighbor was killed by a bomb. Fighter jets roared overhead. My mom, my sister, and I hid in the corner of the living room. That way it was safer. Still remember that boy. We used to play soccer together. His older brother made the best Ghormeh Sabzi; he also died, sent to fight in the war.

FAITH: Oh my God. That’s so bad.

DAD: At the time…I was still in school, studying medicine. Wanted to become a surgeon. The universities, they banned us from working on cadavers. So we ended up in vet clinics. Dissecting animals, all sorts of things. 

FAITH: Animals?! But—how are you supposed to learn human anatomy without practicing on literal humans?

DAD: That’s why I practiced on cadavers with my mentor at the university. Secretly.

(Flashback on stage left under floodlights. It is in a medical office. TEENAGE DAD and his surgeon mentor work on an operating table, dissecting a cadaver. As DAD narrates, the ENSEMBLE enacts his words—e.g., when he recalls the police barging in, a group of ENSEMBLE members burst in as the police.)

DAD: Then one day, the police barged in. Arrested us. Said our practice was illegal—anti-revolutionary. They pounded on the door, shouting as if a bomb had just exploded. (beat) For a second, my heart stopped. I thought of my neighbor. I thought I was going to die, too.

FAITH: They punished you for studying, even if it meant learning how to save people's lives?

DAD: I didn’t understand what was going on. Went by in a daze. All I know is that they took us to jail. I kept apologizing, explaining for hours. Then, they wrote me up as an offender and let me go. When Mamani found out, she said my sister and I had to leave Iran. Go join our uncle in Abu Dhabi. There was no future for me as a surgeon… or simply as a person who could live unafraid. She sold everything we had, but it was only enough for two boat tickets. She stayed behind.

FAITH: Wait—Mamani didn’t come with you guys? Then, when did she come?

DAD: Mamani joined us after the war. You know, I’m glad she didn’t come on the trip. That trip was…something.

FAITH: What happened…on the trip?

(Flashback scene on stage left under an overhead stage light. It is the same escape scene in DAD’s first flashback.)

TEENAGE DAD: (talking to himself) I can’t do this. I’m leaving everything behind: my mom, my home, my school, my friends. All I’ve ever known. Am I even going to make it?

(FRIEND impulsively pulls TEENAGE DAD into the boat. A group of guards arrives. They approach the REFUGEE SMUGGLER.)

GUARD 1: Sir, we need to see your clearance permit.

(REFUGEE SMUGGLER pulls out the documents, and the GUARDS scrutinize them.)

GUARD 2: Heading to Abu Dhabi?

REFUGEE SMUGGLER: (slightly tensing up) Yes, sir.

(The waiting for a response feels interminable as the GUARDS inspect the boat.)

GUARD 3: You’re free to go.

(A spotlight is on DAD. As DAD narrates, the ENSEMBLE reacts accordingly.)

DAD: Then, we were off. It felt like 40 days and 40 nights, like that Noah’s Ark story we read together. The smell of crude mixed with salt water. We ate what little we had, slept in the open—on frigid nights—with nothing but a thin cloth. My sister’s weeping… it was my lullaby, despite its underlying sadness. I fell asleep. But the harsh storms that jolted our boat woke me up every minute.

(Back in the flashback scene.) 

SISTER: (weeping) Don’t you miss our home, Dadash? We should’ve never left Mom in Tehran.

TEENAGE DAD: There’s nothing we can do now. We’ll just have to face whatever’s out there. 

FRIEND: (beat) At least we’re leaving. We won’t have to die in Tehran. My family always prays for everything—just have tawakkul to God. 

TEENAGE DAD: Have faith.

(SISTER clasps her hands together to pray. FRIEND closes his eyes, mumbling. TEENAGE DAD gazes, hopeful, toward the horizon.)

(Back to DAD’s narration.)

DAD: As the days passed, things got worse. We barely slept at night; it was freezing cold. We were running low on food. My sister accidentally cut her knees, leaning over the boat’s edge… She cried every day. We were desperate until the storm hit.

(A boom of thunder. A flash of lightning, created by a quick burst of white light. Two ENSEMBLE members enter, holding the end of a blue tarp, which represents the water underneath the boat, and shaking it to create the sound of turbulent waves.)

REFUGGEE SMUGGLER: Hold tight! Don’t let go!

(The ENSEMBLE members sway back and forth as if the boat is wobbling. Another boom of thunder, then a blackout. The boat has capsized. The ENSEMBLE strikes the flashback scene on stage left and exits. The lights turn back to FAITH and DAD.)

DAD: And just like that, my friend was gone.

FAITH: Gone? What do you mean?

DAD: Fell off the side of the boat. We never found his body, but he presumably drowned.

FAITH: (humbled) I-I’m so sorry.

DAD: Still miss him to this day. He was my dearest friend. That night, we were lucky enough to meet a fisherman fishing nearby. He brought us to our feet. Took us to Abu Dhabi on his boat. Finally, after a couple more days, exhausted and deprived, we arrived on Yas Island. 

FAITH: (remembering with fascination) Yas Island. The land of Jasmine.

DAD: Yes! Wait, how did you know?

FAITH: It was in the bedtime stories Mamani told me.

DAD: I remember the smell of those jasmine flowers. It just hit me. All my pain washed away, my tiredness gone, and suddenly I felt…safe. Whole. We made it. And it was faith that kept us moving forward.

FAITH: Wow. I guess that’s how I got my name.

DAD: Sure is.

(A pause. FAITH and DAD take a moment to feel the emotional weight of DAD’s story. FAITH hesitates but eventually breaks the silence.)

FAITH: Why didn’t you tell me this before?

(DAD is silent.)

FAITH: This story, your life—it’s sad…but incredible. And I never knew. 

DAD: (takes a deep breath) I’ve never told anyone before. Leaving my country like that could get me killed. People don’t know what it’s like to be a refugee. They often misunderstand us. I want to protect my family, to do what’s best for you. Now, I think…if I opened up more—to you, to your mom—we wouldn’t be like this.

FAITH: It’s not your fault, Dad. Honestly, I haven’t really opened up to anybody lately. Nobody seems to get me.

DAD: The divorce hasn’t been easy, Faith. (beat) But you’re handling it. (lays his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes) I’m proud of you. I just want you to be happy.

FAITH: All this time I’ve been…blocking you out. On my phone, hiding from everyone. Trying to distract myself. With friend issues and everything going on between you and mom… I put my guard up. Said some dumb things, pushed you away. (beat) And I didn’t even see it. I mean, like– how much you’ve done for me. How much you’ve actually tried to know me. You came here to give me a better life, and I haven’t really appreciated that… or made things easier for you. I thought my problems were everything—like the whole world. But they’re not. What really matters is us. Our family. You and me. And I don’t want to lose that.

(The ENSEMBLE enters as the passengers of the cruise ship, dragging their luggage, hurrying to catch the boat. A CRUISE SHIP GREETER enters from stage right.)

CRUISE SHIP GREETER: One minute before we board!

(FAITH and DAD walk up to the ramp. They wait in line with the rest of the passengers until it is their turn.)

CRUISE SHIP GREETER: (to FAITH) Aloha! Welcome aboard, young lady!

(The CRUISE SHIP GREETER drapes a jasmine lei around FAITH’s neck. She touches it. Her face brightens up. FAITH smiles.)

DAD: Are you ready to do this?

(DAD hugs FAITH. She hugs him back. A tentative pause. She peers up at the ship, then back to DAD, steadying herself. FAITH inhales sharply.)

FAITH: I think.

(Blackout.)

END OF PLAY