The Journal of Peter Van Daan
This is a short One Act play; an excerpt from Peter’s journal found after World War II.
Note to Readers: Kimberly Wealthall’s fictional dramatization of Peter Van Daan’s journal, cohabitate and friend to Anne Frank, and what it could have contained, has not been produced yet on Broadway. This is a short One Act play; an excerpt from Peter’s journal found after World War II. However, if it is produced, Ms. Wealthall would like the following cast to portray these characters:
Peter Van Daan…………………………………………………………….…Chandler Canterbury
Anne Frank…………………………………………………………………………. Elle Fanning
Otto Frank……………………………………………………………………..………Daniel Craig
Edith Frank……………………………………………………………………….Keira Knightley
Margot Frank……………………………………………………………………….Abigail Breslin
Mr. Van Daan………………………………………………………………………..Gerard Butler
Mrs. Van Daan……………………………………………………………………….Emily Blunt
Setting
This play takes place on the top floor of an Amsterdam office building.
THE JOURNAL OF PETER VAN DAAN
ACT ONE
The set consists of two stories, the top story being an attic with a very low ceiling, stored with boxes and crates. On top of one crate sits two candles and a big wooden ship inside a glass bottle. That is all that can be seen on the top floor. Down the narrow stairs lies the main living quarters to Anne’s family and Peter’s family. There is a small room with old chairs and dusty books on shelves. It opens into a very small kitchen. A door to the washroom can be seen at the bottom of the stairs. There are small rooms with bedding for the families off the main living room area. Spotlight comes up on Peter, lying on the floor in the attic, writing in a journal. His voiceover is heard).
PETER (V.O.) She hates me, she really does. She eyes me wearily and never talks to me. We have been here 2 weeks and I can’t get even a smile out of her. I don’t know why she acts this way. I have always liked her and admired her strength and spirit. When I would see her around town, she always looked so happy, so alive. I wanted to feel that way, too. Living with Mama and Papa, I never feel happy and alive. They fight a lot and Papa doesn’t even seem to like me. I think he is upset that I don’t want to do things he likes, regular boy things. Instead I would rather write or read or go on a walk and imagine myself in a faraway magical world. He thinks my head is in the clouds but I’d rather be in the clouds than live with them. Or be here. I want to go home.
The lights come up with Otto Frank sitting in one of the living room chairs, while Anne and Margot lean beside him to look at the book he is reading. Peter enters the living room from his bedroom but hears the Frank’s talking and stays just outside the room, peering around the corner.
ANNE. (in a whiny voice, upset) But father! I don’t want to help that boy with his French. He’s weird…and French isn’t that hard so he must be slow if he hasn’t caught on by now!
OTTO. (in a calm and slow voice) Anne, I do not want to hear another word about it. You will help Peter because it is the right thing to do and that is what we do in this family. We help others, just as others have helped us when we have so desperately needed it.
ANNE. (pouts, crosses her arms across her chest defiantly) Fine! But I don’t have to enjoy it! (Anne storms out of the room, enters her bedroom and closes the door. She lies on her bedding, covers her face and faint crying can be heard. Edith is in the bedroom knitting and looks up startled. The spotlight follows Anne into the room and the living room dims.)
EDITH. (to Anne) Anne, my dear child, what is the matter with you?
ANNE. Father says I HAVE to help Peter with his studies and I don’t want to. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. I miss my friends…and my school…and my own bed. I don’t want to be here anymore (Anne is now sobbing into her blankets).
EDITH. (Walks to Anne and lays down beside her, stroking her hair) I know, little Anneke, and you are right. It is not fair but all we can do is make the best of what we have. There are things you don’t fully understand. What we have here is far better than other alternatives. We have to be thankful that we have each other, Anne. Can you try and be nicer to Peter? Do it for me and your Papa, please Anne.
ANNE. (wipes her tears and looks at her Mother) I will try, Mother, but it won’t be easy.
EDITH. (giving Anne a hug and chuckling) Oh Anne, you never make anything easy. Just help the boy and you can feel proud of yourself for doing something that you didn’t want to do. It’s a great sense of accomplishment you will feel when it is all done.
Spotlight now goes back to the living room, where Peter has entered the living room and holding his French book, sits across the room from Otto.
PETER. (Aloud, practicing his French) Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix. (He sits quietly, looking at the book, and then looks up at Otto. Otto is concentrating on his book and does not notice).
PETER. (to Otto) Je desolee, Mr. Frank. (Otto does not hear him)
PETER. (louder this time) Je desolee, Mr. Frank. (Otto looks up, with a puzzled expression on his face).
OTTO. What was that, Peter? Did you say something?
PETER. Yee….Yes, sir. I’m sorry for causing problems for Anne. I am trying my best with this book but it’s not as easy as Math and Science. I just can’t figure it all out on my own. I can try it, though…on my own, I mean. There’s no need to make Anne upset. She really hates me, sir.
OTTO. (with a caring, sincere face) Oh no, Peter. Anne does not hate you. Anne doesn’t have it in her to hate anyone, for that matter. She’s just confused and scared and doesn’t know what to think about anything right now. Give her some time, son. She will warm up to you. Plus, she’s very good at French. She will be an excellent tutor.
PETER. (nodding his head up and down) Yes, Mr. Frank. I will be patient with her. Thank you.
Anne has entered the room and is in better spirits. She sits down beside Peter and looks at his book with him.
PETER. (quietly, shyly) Hi, Anne. I will be the best student you’ve ever had. (He gives her a big grin)
ANNE. Well, Peter, you will be my first student so you will truly be the best and only student I’ve ever had. (They both laugh a little, uncomfortably). Now let’s get started. What are you working on here?
PETER. Well…errr….I don’t know…
ANNE. (in an authoritative, teacherly voice) En francais, s’il vous plait, Peter!
PETER. Uhhh….(gulps) Je ne sais pas?
Anne looks at Peter and they both start laughing uncontrollably.
ANNE. (with a wide smile) Very good, Peter. If you don’t know the answer, you must say you don’t know in French. Brilliant work, pupil! (Peter smiles, proud of himself) Now Peter, write out this sentence. “I will always speak to Anne in French during our lessons.” (Peter raises an eyebrow while looking at her) Go on, Peter. Practice makes perfect.
As Peter picks up his pencil to write, with a furrowed brow in deep concentration, Anne stands up, walks into the kitchen and finds a long handled spoon, which she uses as a ruler. She paces in front of Peter, shoulders back, head up and taps the “ruler” against the palm of her other hand, as a teacher would.
PETER. (clears his throat) Um…Anne, you are making me nervous. Can’t you sit down?
ANNE. Silence, Peter. It is time to work.
Peter looks back to his work, shakes his head but a faint smile can be seen on his face. Lights dim.
Lights come up on the two families at the crowded kitchen table. The two wives are bringing a big pot of food to the table as the others anxiously await breakfast.
MRS. VAN DAAN. We must eat quickly everyone. The workers will be in soon and we must resume silence above, as not to give ourselves away. These beans took far too long to cook today.
MR. VAN DAAN. (Snarling up his nose and looking disappointed. In a sarcastic voice) Oh wonderful, just what I wanted this morning; more beans. I can’t get enough of these beans, you know. I think we ought to have them every meal, every day. Oh wait, we HAVE had them every meal, every day.
The Franks exchange glances with one another around the table, unsure of how to react.
MR. VAN DAAN. I can’t wait for the day when I never have to eat beans again. (Looks at Mrs. Van Daan) Ever since you burnt the beans last week, I can’t get that smell and taste out of my mind. Every time we have beans, they taste burnt. You have forever ruined my relationship with beans and-
PETER. (as loud as he dares yell in the morning time) Enough Father! Mother is doing her best. I think her beans taste marvelous. You should be thankful we have food at all!
MR. VAN DAAN. Why, you little! You know better than to talk to your Father like-
(Mr. Van Daan pushes his chair back to lunge at Peter. The chair falls over and clangs loudly as it hits the floor. At the sound, everyone sits stark still, with scared looks on their faces.)
MARGOT. (whispers, in a serious voice) Everyone calm down now. Arguing over burnt beans is not worth our freedom.
Anne’s face goes ghostly white and tears begin forming in her eyes. Peter notices and grabs her hand and holds it.
PETER. (to Anne) It’s okay, Anne. Everything is okay, don’t worry. You have many more days of teaching me everything you know. (He gives her a little smile.)
MR. FRANK. Okay, enough talk. Time to eat. We’re running out of time. The workers will be here any minute.
Everyone starts to eat quickly, except Anne.
ANNE. (in a loud whisper). I’ve lost my appetite. May I be excused Papa?
MR. FRANK. Certainly, Anneke, however you will not be able to eat again for many hours. Are you sure you will not eat any?
ANNE. I am sure. I just want to go read, please. Thank you, Mrs. Van Daan for making breakfast.
MRS. VAN DAAN. You’re quite welcome, Anne. (looks at her husband) At least SOMEONE here has manners.
(Mrs. Van Daan and Mrs. Frank clean the kitchen up quickly and as quietly as possible. As the village clock tower tolls the work hour of 9am, everyone settles in with a book or knitting materials to pass the time. Lights go to black on stage.)
(Lights come up on Peter and Anne in the attic, peering out a tiny window to the outside world.)
PETER. What do you miss the most Anne? Is it your friends, your toys?
ANNE. (Looking outside dreamily, remembering times before the war). Well, Peter, I miss it all, to be honest. I miss Mrs. Stein, my History teacher, and I miss our garden behind our home. I miss my friends Rebekah and Sarah. What do you miss most Peter?
PETER. (Tries to make Anne smile). Well, I certainly don’t miss French class. As you probably guessed, it was not my best subject. (Anne smiles a little, while still looking out the window. Peter continues as he walks over to the ship inside the bottle and looks at it). I miss my grandparents dearly and I am afraid they didn’t get out in time. I hate to think what has happened to them. I miss my school and my best chum Nikolas. We used to play every day after school until the sun went down and Mama made me come in. We built forts and teased the girl down the road because she always wanted to play with us too. We didn’t want to play with girls! She tried and tried and eventually one day we gave in and let her. She wasn’t so bad, I guess. But she couldn’t build a fort to save her life (he laughs softly, remembering). I’ll always remember the story she told me one day. She spoke of her great uncle, who traveled to America. He went to college at a famous school called Harvard and became a lawyer who helped people. He made lots of money and could travel home to see his family that had never been to the States. He brought them pictures of all the new and exciting places there and he brought them trinkets. I always liked that story a lot. I thought maybe someday I could do that, too. (He pauses, thinking.) Anne, do you think I could do that too; travel to America and be a successful man to help people?
ANNE. (Moves from the window over to Peter and looks at the boat in the glass bottle with Peter). Why, of course I do Peter! Though French is not going to make you famous (she looks at him with a teasing smile), you are very good with other subjects. That university would be lucky to have you Peter.
PETER. (Looks at her with a frown) But Anne, I heard you tell your Father before that you thought I was slow…don’t you still think so? I am really not the brightest boy in the village, that is true. (Looks sad and embarrassed).
ANNE. Peter, you mustn’t speak that way about yourself. Papa has always taught me to love myself for everything I am, and everything I am not. So what if French is not your forte…they do not speak French in the States, Peter! (Peter smiles). You are a good person and you will do well in whatever you choose to do.
PETER. (With a big grin) Thank you, Anne. I think that is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.
ANNE. (With a surprised look, as if she has just figured something out). Your friend, Nikolas? Is that Nikolas Goldberg?
PETER. (Surprised, as well) Yes, Anne. How do you know Nikolas? He is…was…my closest friend!
ANNE. My papa gave him lessons on the piano once every week for a long time. Sometimes we would play in the garden while his sister had lessons. One day he told me a secret but I promised I would never tell. (Looks slightly embarrassed and blushes).
PETER. Well, what was the secret Anne? Will you tell me? I promise I will not tell a soul either. I promise, Anne!
ANNE. I’m sorry, Peter. I should not have said anything. I promised and Papa always has taught me not to break my word. I can’t tell you. But I’m sure it wasn’t true. I think he was just teasing me. Boys always tease, don’t they?
PETER. (Takes offense to Anne’s statement). Well, no more than girls do!
ANNE. (Changing the subject). Margot liked Nikolas. She said he was handsome and kind and could play piano beautifully. I hope your friend is okay, Peter. He was fun to run in the garden with. We played hide and seek and he never could find me. It was my garden so I knew all the good hiding spots. He got mad sometimes when he couldn’t find me. (Anne laughs). Boys are funny when they get mad. His face got so red and I thought smoke would come out of his ears. (Anne falls to floor, laughing. Peter joins in).
(Margot pops her head up the stairs.)
MARGOT.(Sharply) Quiet, you two! Do you want to get us all in trouble? Find something to do that doesn’t involve laughing like hyenas!
ANNE. Oh, Margot. Stop being such a bully. We were just having fun. Remember Nikolas Goldberg?
MARGOT. (At first, acts as if she doesn’t remember). Goldberg….Goldberg…hmmm…
ANNE. Oh, come on Margot. You remember Nikolas! You said he played piano better than any boy you knew. Almost better than Papa himself, which I don’t agree with. You used to follow him around and laugh at everything he said.
MARGOT. (Cheeks grow pink with embarrassment). I remember Nikolas but I didn’t follow him around. It was him that followed me. He used to read me poetry in the garden, when you were playing childish games of hide and seek, he would let you hide and then read to me, the most beautiful words. (Faraway smile on her face) I enjoyed those days. Then finally he would say he couldn’t find you and you would think you won. (Margot laughing and poking Anne). He really got you good, didn’t he?! He didn’t even try looking for you most days!
ANNE. (Becomes upset quickly). That’s not true Margot! He did look for me! You are such a liar and Papa doesn’t like liars! You better take it back, right this instance!
MARGOT. No! Never!
ANNE. Take it back! You’re just upset that he liked me more, that he played with me instead of you, that he told ME secrets, instead of YOU!
MARGOT (Jerks back in surprise and hurt). You stop that, Anne. He did like me and that’s why he gave me my first grown up kiss! While you were running through the garden like a child, I was becoming a woman with Nikolas. His lips were so soft and his teeth so straight and white. (In a vicious tone) He would never choose you over me, ha!
ANNE. (Upset by how cruel Margot is being, shoulders slump, eyes fill with tears. In a tiny voice) He was my friend, Margot.
PETER (Upset that Anne is crying, stands up in front of Margot). I choose Anne over you. (He then turns around and runs out of the room, down the stairs and to his room).
(Both Anne and Margot look shocked. Anne wipes her eyes and goes back to the window. Margot goes over and puts her hand on Anne’s shoulder but Anne moves her shoulder to knock it off. Margot sighs and exits. Lights dim and open on Peter in his room).
PETER. (V.O.) (Writing in his journal, voiceover) Margot is so mean and cruel to Anne. Why does she think because she is the big sister that she is so much better than Anne? It’s not true. Anne is just as smart and much prettier and nicer. I can’t wait to be home and away from Margot. But I don’t want to leave Anne. I dread the day that I cannot see her face bright and early in the morning, talking about how Mother’s beans are so tasty. (Peter smiles while writing) Everyone is surely sick of beans and potatoes but Anne makes me feel as if it is the first time we’ve had them in months. She always makes me feel fresh and new. She is a good friend. I wonder what her lips feel like? (Pauses, thinking) And I wonder what Nikolas’s secret was? (Peter closes his book, puts his head down and falls asleep).
(Lights come up faintly. Voices can be heard and Peter sits up in his bed, looking confused and scared, he follows the voices into the kitchen).
MRS. FRANK. (Upset, alarmed, surprised, pointing at a figure on the floor behind the table) Why, somebody is eating the potatoes! Raw potatoes!
(Mr. Van Daan peers his head from around the table, looking guilty and ashamed).
MR. FRANK. What in the world is going on? Why are you doing this, Mr. Van Daan? Eating our meager reserves in the night while we all sleep?
MRS. FRANK. (Running over to Mr. Van Daan, slaps the potato out of his hand and wags her finger in his face) You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Taking food from our children’s mouths! You, no good, lousy-
MRS. VAN DAAN (interrupting Mrs. Frank) Now, you wait just a minute here, Edith. My husband is a man and he requires more food than most of us. Can he help it if he is starving and must sneak a potato or two in the night for survival?! Now you just climb down off your high horse and-
PETER. (starring at his Father, he whirls around on his Mother abruptly) Stop it Mother! Stop it right now! Don’t make excuses for him! No one should be stealing from our food stock. What are we to do when it runs out if people sneak and steal food?
MRS VAN DAAN. Peter, boy, you just don’t understand what’s going on here. Your Father is so hungry and-
PETER. We are all hungry Mother! What is wrong with you…to think it is acceptable behavior?! You both should be ashamed of yourself.
MRS. FRANK. I want them both out, Otto. Our children’s needs come first and we cannot continue to feed them with a thief in our midst, stealing from us right under our noses!
MR. FRANK. Now Edith, let’s not overreact. We can’t kick them out on the streets (his voice grows quieter) You know…you know what would happen to them, dear.
(Anne and Margot wonder in, rubbing their eyes, confused from being woke up from their slumber).
ANNE. What is all the commotion about? I was dreaming…dreaming about living in America.
PETER. It’s okay, Anne. Go back to sleep. Everything is okay.
(All the adults look confused by Peter’s protective voice of Anne.)
MR. VAN DAAN. Peter, just stay out of this. Go back to bed yourself and let the adults figure this out.
PETER. (turns to his Father with a stern look) Father, I will not take orders from you when you insist on acting like the child and me, the adult. I think it is time for you to go to bed now.
(Mr. Van Daan looks utterly shocked and is speechless for a moment. He slowly rises from the floor, walks to his bedroom with his head hung, goes in and closes the door).
MR. FRANK. Let’s all go to bed now. We will deal with this in the morning. We all need our rest. Try to sleep now.
(Mrs. Van Daan quickly goes to her room. Margot wanders off to bed, as does Mrs. Frank. Mr. Frank walks up to Peter, puts his arm around his shoulders and smiles proudly. He whispers to Peter.)
MR. FRANK. Peter, you are growing up into a fine, young man. You have a quiet strength that is growing louder as I have known you. You may have someone to thank for your new-found spirit. (They both glance at Anne but she is unaware of what is being said).
PETER. (whispers back and shakes Mr. Frank’s hand). I’d say I have more than one person to thank. Thank you, sir, for showing how a strong, good man should behave. I will forever be grateful for you.
MR. FRANK. (with love in his voice) You are very welcome, Peter. (He gives Peter a big hug and whispers). I always wanted a son. If I’d had one, I’d want him to be like you, Peter.
(Peter smiles with admiration in his eyes at Mr. Frank. Mr. Frank walks towards his room but looks back for a moment.)
MR. FRANK. (to Anne and Peter) You kids don’t stay up long, you here? (He nods to them and enters his room.)
ANNE. Peter, would you like to go upstairs for a little bit? I want to look out my window at the world we do not know anymore. I like to imagine that everything is the way it used to be.
PETER. Sure, Anne. Let’s go have a look.
(Lights dim and rise again in the attic. Anne is perched, looking out her window, as Peter looks at the ship in the bottle).
ANNE. Peter, why do you like that old ship so much? You just sit there and stare at it for hours.
PETER. Well, you know how you imagine things while you look out your window? (Anne nods). Well, I do the same thing here with this ship. I imagine we are sailing for America, to a new life, where nobody has to hide, nobody has to be afraid. You and I are on this ship, our families too, and we are looking out at our future. At whatever we want to make of it in a new world. That’s why I like this ship so much, Anne.
ANNE. I like that, Peter. I like that I’m on that ship, too. (She jumps up on a crate and puts her hand up over her eyes as if she is looking out to sea). Captain, our first stop should be New York City. Do you have the coordinates?
(Peter stands up on a crate beside Anne, acts like he is steering the ship.)
PETER. Yes, ma’am. We are headed for the harbor. Should be no time at all, now. What is the first thing you would like to see when we arrive? (Continues moving his arms back and forth, like he is steering).
ANNE. Hmmm…Well, I think it appropriate we visit the Statue of Liberty first, the symbol of freedom and hope, Captain. Let’s make that our first stop, please.
PETER. As you wish, ma’am.
(Anne sits on the crate and her smile slowly disappears. Peter sits beside her with a concerned look).
PETER. What’s the matter, ma’am? Feeling seasick?
ANNE. (Gives a half smile). I was wondering if you would do me a favor, Peter….er, Captain.
PETER. Hmmm…well, how about a favor for a favor? Will you tell me Nikolas’s secret and then I will do your favor?
ANNE. Well, I guess it can’t hurt now. Nikolas may never know that I even told so no harm done, I suppose. That day in the garden, Nikolas told me his best friend liked me, really liked me, and thought I was pretty and smart and fearless. I didn’t believe him at the time. But I want to know if it’s true?
PETER. (Looks a little embarrassed) It is true, Anne. From the first time I saw you at school, I always envied your strength and thought you to be a wonderful, beautiful girl. Now that I know you personally, living with you all this time, I know that my first thoughts were true. You are a great person, Anne. I am not surprised by this because you have wonderful parents who have taught you well. Are you upset with me for telling Nikolas I fancied you?
ANNE. (Smiles shyly but happily). Oh, no Peter. I am not upset with you at all. I must admit I did not like you at first, only because I did not know you and because I was upset we were in this tiny place living with others. Little food, little to do, it is just not a place I wanted to be. But because of you, it has been made better. I enjoy our talks, our studies together, our dreams of what is out the window or on the ship ride. I…I think I feel the same way you do, Peter. I think…I fancy you. (She laughs nervously).
PETER. (Smiling and nodding). Well, I like that. I like that, indeed. But what is the favor, Anne? You’ve told me the secret…now what favor do you ask?
ANNE. (Takes Peter’s hands in hers, looks into his eyes with seriousness on her face)When this is all over, Peter. Take me with you. As soon as we’re old enough, take me to America with you. Please, captain? (She jokes but is also very serious).
PETER. Of course, I will, ma’am. I will whisk you away to a new world with me and we will discover New York City together. (With this, he pulls Anne in and plants a little kiss on her lips. At first, she is stunned and almost pulls away, but then realizes she is glad Peter is kissing her and she prolongs the kiss a little longer. They pull back after a few seconds and both smile sheepishly. Peter stands and bows to Anne.)
PETER. Until tomorrow then, ma’am. I will meet you on our ship once again. (He gestures to the attic).
ANNE. But, of course, Captain! I would travel on no other ship but yours.
(They smile and walk downstairs, go to their separate rooms, with grins plastered across both their faces. Lights dim. They come back up on Peter and Anne in the attic, acting like they’re on a ship for a new life. The wives are downstairs in the kitchen and the husbands sit in chairs in the living area. Margot is helping the wives cook. All of a sudden, soldiers burst into the upstairs living quarters with guns drawn. Everyone is shocked, scared, begin crying and know what this means. Peter and Anne are the last to be taken by the soldiers, as they are in the attic and are not aware at first that they have been discovered. When the soldiers burst into the attic, Peter and Anne immediately grab a hold of each other. They hold hands until the soldiers tear them apart, Anne crying and Peter trying to put on a strong front for Anne. Peter tries to grab the ship in the bottle as he is being pulled from the attic but the soldier knocks it out of his hands and it falls to the floor. Glass shatters as the bottle breaks. Screams, cries, marching boots are heard, shouts in German. Lights go out.)
PETER. (V.O.) That is the last time I saw Anne Frank. I heard in the camps that she died in 1945, along with her entire family except Mr. Frank. I hope he made it out. I tried to stay strong, I tried to use every fiber of strength and faith that I had to keep fighting for survival, every day, every hour, every minute. What did I think about most in those final days of my own life? That kiss. My first and only kiss. With the most wonderful girl I had known. And our ship. Our plans to sail to America. They kept me going as long as they could. And I will never forget…never forget her and what her family taught me. Je t’aime, Anne. Merci beaucoup.
End of Play
