AMERICA FINDING HER WAY
A Trilogy of Plays
by
Karen Sunde
Copyright: Karen Sunde
Smashwords Edition
For all rights to perform these plays, apply to:
Karen Sunde
130 Barrow St. Suite 412
New York , NY 10014
Tel/Fax 212/366-1124
CONTENTS
Rebellion. New York, 1970: the 24 hours before the “Weatherman house” on 11th street explodes.
Rejuvenation. The rebirth of a family to serve their nation by following their delinquent child’s dreams.
Making magic in America, now: A dying red-neck town’s struggle with its Native American neighbors and the killer bear that haunts the mountain they share.
TAGS: bear hunting, urban renewal, Viet Nam protesters, homelessness, New York terrorism, 1960’s radicals, Weathermen, Black Panthers, Fred Hampton, bomb building, civil rights, Native American, healer, shaman, mysticism, sacred mountain, reservation, red-neck town
PRODUCTION HISTORY
SWEET LAND OF FIRE has had readings in New York –at Ensemble Studio Theatre as Day Before Noon, at Abingdon Theatre Company as The Flower’s Last Child, and as Sweet Land Of Fire in a Concert Reading at La MaMa E.T.C.
NATIVE LAND was commissioned by Michael Miner at Actor’s Theater of St. Paul, has had readings at Ensemble Studio Theatre, New York as House Of Eeyore, and as Native Land in a staged reading at Actors Stock Company/New York.
TRACKING BLOOD WHITE was commissioned by Ken Marini for the Cheltenham Center For The Arts, PA, and workshopped there as Daddy’s Gone A-Hunting. A series of concert readings were produced by Playwrights Theatre of New Jersey. The Lark Play Development Center, New York presented it as a staged reading during their Playwright’s Week. La MaMa ETC, New York, did the first concert reading of Tracking Blood White
the action
based on a real event
is fiction
New York, 1970. The 24 hours before the house on 11th street in Greenwich Village explodes.
SET: One open set skeletal steps represent New York brownstone, with landing levels.
CHARACTERS: All 21 30 years
BETH Weatherman, gentle, alienated – anthropologist
ANNE Weatherman, glamorous, fierce leader – lawyer
DAVE former SDS activist, witty, Jewish – physician
SUZY Beth's sister, Midwestern honey – bride
JACK Weatherman, charismatic, macho – architectural engineer
DAMON Black Panther, ferocious, clear-eyed – lawyer
SWEET LAND OF FIRE
Preset: Shafts of sunlight across debris strewn set. Center, a winding staircase reaching full height of stage. It has perches at different levels on the way up. Elegant items suspended in air chandelier, painting, mirror, drapery create beauty of the brownstone house.
Pre-audio: Bob Dylan’s “When The Ship Comes In,” punctuated by newscasts about Weathermen riots, demonstrations, and rallies.
Sunlight brightens. Music gives way to newscast reporting of solar eclipse: "Hundreds of thousands lining highways and beaches...etc." Lights perform eclipse as newscaster rattles on. Darkening, strange colors. At totality, a siren.
Firemen wearily enter, begin shifting and examining debris. They set a refrigerator upright near staircase. From behind it, Anne scampers in only shreds of clothing. Firemen catch and envelope her in a blanket. The last items they find on "cellar" level are body parts: torso, arm and leg pieces. These they place on a stretcher they carry out as sun and sky return to normal.
Scene blends back to day before; from behind the debris, way back, like a resurrection, comes the ragged figure of Beth: in jeans, sweatshirt, tennis shoes, chopped hair, wire-frame glasses. She is smiling, carrying a paper bag, feels light, released, seems giddy.
Beth: "Now is the winter of our dis con tent..." (Looks up at staircase, "House") Anne, it's beautiful: "...made glorious summer.”
Anne: (Approaches over rubble, clothed, graceful, strong) What did you expect?
Beth: "And all the clouds..." But it is, it's really just beautiful.
Anne: Come. I'll show you. (Approaches stairs)
Beth: A town house?
Anne: My father's grandfather's.
Beth: (Still staring) Built straight up.
Anne: (Climbs) Was Mother who understood it, though. Come on. She brought all the colors out of the wood. (Gestures to Beth to follow her) Belle tried to keep me from sliding these banisters. Your flight late from Newark?
Beth: (Following) Yeah.
Anne: Brace yourself for the city?
Beth: Yup. My mantra is "roar, mobs, roaches, dogshit…”
Anne: (Laughing) …and pig-mobiles! Does it help?
(Anne arrives at bird figurines room; Beth behind her. There may be one bird, several, or none)
Beth: Ooooh, Anne. (Gazing) Birds.
Anne: Ummhmm.
Beth: There must be a hundred. All kinds, colors. Even metal and gold. It's...
Anne: “Immense strength in fragility,” Daddy says. His remaining shred of poetic vision.
Beth: They're his?
Anne: He can't understand how something so delicate has so much strength to lift itself so far.
Beth: So he fills a whole room with birds, while over on East Third...
Anne: You got it.
Beth: ...there's maybe one room for seven people. (Tight) Have you got the stuff?
Anne: (Looks, then quickly) Not yet. (Turns, climbing) Come on. Have a shower.
Beth: Could use one. (Following) How many floors you got, anyway?
Anne: (Ahead of her) How was the wedding?
Beth: A wedding. Like my worst nightmare.
Anne: Your sister?
Beth: Completely straight. If I gave her an apron, she'd drool.
Anne: You behaved.
Beth: Of course.
Anne: It's good you went.
Beth: Nobody asked why I cried.
Anne: (Handing her a towel) Gives the impression we're cooling it. Home and apple pie.
Beth: (Stepping into shower) Not bringing the stuff here, are you.
Anne: (Sits on step) Course not. Getting the house is luck. Dad and Irene are in Paris.
Beth: (Off) Vacationing?
Anne: No, he’s deciding whether the jet-set can afford a 1000 MPH shuttle. Vision, but not poetry.
Beth: (Off) I’ll save him the trip: they'll afford whatever they want. But your mother...?
Anne: ...never comes here anymore. She's with Peter, who's appealing, even honorable, for an attorney. They're fishing in Maine. (Beat) Ned brought over a couple new pieces.
Beth: (Off) What kind?
Anne: A 22 and a 16-gauge. With ammunition. Said they’d need an overhaul. Not fired since duck season in ‘63.
Beth: (Off) The seven lean years since he went pacifist?
Anne: Right on.
Beth: (Off) I'll check ‘em out right away.
Anne: Not before you've rested.
Beth: (Off) You been keeping in practice?
Anne: Three times a week.
(Dave is coming across the debris to the bottom of the steps)
Dave: Hey, is this what it's going to be like after the revolution? Dumbwaiters on every floor?
Anne: Not a chance.
Dave: (Climbing) Some scene. Satin valances, Louis-the-whatever dining set...
Anne: Knock it off, Dave.
Dave: Sure beats my front porch barbecue in Queens. And do I see…yup: a fairytale garden out back.
Anne: Oh, I just whipped this up to ease Beth's re-entry to the jungle.
Dave: Beth's here too?
Anne: Back from Kansas.
Dave: (Sings) "Oh, give me a home...where Papa owns land, and Mama the First National Bank." You aren’t worried she’ll get culture shock when she figures out where they keep the kitchen in these palaces?
Beth: (Coming out wet, fastening clothes) Where? (Kisses him) Hi, Dave.
Dave: Not only below-stairs, below ground. That's where the women and slaves consort. (Squeezes her) How's it going, Madonna?
Beth: Where’ve you been? You finish pre-med?
Dave: Mais, bien sur!
Anne: Ned found him. (Showing bedroom) Here's where I'll put you.
Beth: (Looking at elegant room) God, no.
Dave: Oh, why not. Chippendale rocker, soothing Matisse or two. The four-poster's wasted, Anne. She'll sleep on the floor.
Anne: She will not. She'll rest and get strong. That's how we need her.
Dave: R n’R for the troops, huh? Dig it. Just see you wake her in time for the eclipse.
Beth: What eclipse?
Dave: In exactly...24 hours: "I will cause the sun to go down at noon and darken the earth in the clear day." Is it a date, Madonna?
Anne: (Holding Beth's paper bag) Is this all you've got?
Beth: I left a few books on East Third. You didn't blow that place, did you?
Anne: Hanging onto it. Ned's still there with Barton and Josy.
(All three start down the stairs. Beth lags behind at the bird room)
Dave: Big Ned, California's answer to Ivy League frigidity? Are you and he still, uh...
Anne: Don’t be retarded, David. We're grownups.
Dave: Does that mean "no?"
Anne: It means no today, maybe tomorrow. Relative and irrelevant.
(They arrive at kitchen. She signals him to sit at the table)
Dave: Ok, Gorgeous. I'm at your command. What'll it be?
Anne: Just that.
Dave: What?
Anne: We want you.
Dave: My bod. My fantastic bod. I knew the day would come. My relevance would be apparent. Or is it my station wagon you want?
Anne: The package, Davey. Brains included.
Dave: There you touch on my virtue. The brain’s mine alone, virgin pure.
Anne: And just as useless. (Opens refrigerator, calls) Beth!
(Above, Beth is reaching to touch a bird. Dave picks up guitar, tunes it)
Beth: (Calling down stairs) Yeah?
Anne: (Calls, puts water to boil) You want some orange in yogurt?
Beth: (Leaving the bird, starts down stairs) Sure. Anything.
Dave: Look. When SDS split I decided to stop being bossed by all you hot-headed egotists. I might as well be Nixon's bombardier over Cambodia.
(Dave begins playing "The Times, They Are A-Changing)
Anne: Didn’t Psych teach you hot-heads are a corollary to action? What's the alternative? You – lone egotist consulting his navel? What have you dug out of that grimy crevice?
Dave: I have comrades.
Anne: Marshmallow liberals with half-assed "improvement" projects and carpeted bathrooms. People are dying in our name every minute. What are you doing to stop it? (Beat) You need our grit.
Dave: (Strums defiantly The best minds, the most grit?
Anne: The best. That's why we want you.
Beth: (Arriving in kitchen) Maya’s first word to me was "bird."
Anne: Maya...in Guatemala?
Beth: I found her crouching over a chick that had fallen. Her little face was so intent, she forgot to be afraid. She had responsibility. She looked up in a motherly conspiracy, and whispered: “Ave."
Dave: (Hand out to Beth) Ease on over here, sweet bird. This Mama's coming down hard on me.
Beth: (Sliding next to Dave) Don't stop. Sing it.
(Simultaneously, Anne sets out herb tea and yogurt, while Dave plays, sings, and dialogue continues)
Beth: That's good. Thanks.
Dave: (Sings) Come gather round people wherever you roam. And admit that the waters around you have grown...
Anne: Want some honey?
Dave ...And accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone. If your time to you is worth savin'...
Beth: No. Thanks. (Hugs Dave)
Dave: ...Then you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone. For the times they are a changin'. (Ending song)
Beth: See? You didn’t forget us.
Dave: Your Days-of-Rage action was a giant step backwards.
Anne: No argument.
Dave: All your trashing did was convince Mr. and Mrs. America you're out of your fucking minds.
Anne: Not quite all.
Beth: We've restructured.
Anne: We misjudged. It was too early for a mass action.
Beth: But it proved we’re serious.
Dave: Take a bash at Chicago plate-glass Crushed cranium guaranteed.
Anne: It was a mistake!
Beth: So you were right to split, Dave, but you still care. (Beat) Or did you retire?
Dave: Where to, Angel? (Mock-sings) "How you gonna keep ‘em down on the farm after they've seen...the South Bronx."
Anne: We want you back, Dave, and at the top.
Dave: How 'bout on top. With my pick of you two. That's how cell socializing works, isn't it?
Beth: It has to be mutual. But in your condition, you'd make the wrong pick.
Dave: Oh yes?
Beth: You'd pick me, but you'd want Anne.
Dave: Then why wouldn’t I pick Anne?
Beth: Afraid for your masculinity.
Dave: Hoohoo! (Strums "Blowing in the Wind,” challenged, he bites– ) So what do you want with the station wagon? I'm driving it down the shore tonight. Going to sit there and watch that sun rise up to black noon.
(Beth looks at Anne, comes back to table. Anne says quietly– )
Anne: There's a load of dynamite.
Dave: (Abrupt chord) Geez, you want me for an in-house physician!
Anne: No more shouting. No more kiddy riots…
Dave: Ooo, you’ll make the 6 o’clock news now.
Anne: ...it’s metaphoric language. What they understand.
Dave: Maybe I’ll hire out to the CIA.
Anne: Will you make the pick up?
Beth: (Beat) He doesn't have to decide all at once.
Dave: (Looks at Beth. Pause) Where's the stuff.
Anne: It's ordered. At a construction place in Bridgeport. In the name Park Slope landscaping. (Beat) You pick up Barton from the Third Street place. They’d ask questions if a woman shows up to move it. Then deliver it back to Third Street.
Dave: Barton. The Green Beret Josy hooked, right? He knows how to handle the stuff?
Anne: Cool and dry. Just like you, Davey. That's all you need to know.
Dave: (Tension; looks at both intent women; stands) You sure can break into a man's nature walks. (Beat) One drive. I'll get the load, then I’m gone. I can't hack your lock-step crap.
Anne: You mean discipline? You never saw a decent army without it.
Dave: It's anti-thought.
Anne: We don't have time to play Hamlet. (Kisses Dave) Get the stuff.
Dave: (Stands, giving a half-salute) Royal Dames. Barton at East Third? You I see later.
Anne: Know what's kept you away, Davey? (Beat) You're scared.
Dave: (Stops as he exits) If that's true, I'm still thinking for myself.
(He flips them a grin and leaves. They stand watching him)
Beth: He's in.
Anne: Sticking his neck out, anyway.
Beth: Will you move him in here?
Anne: (Moves to pick up dishes) Yup. We figure five is optimum for a cell, six maximum. Soon as the training’s set, Ned’ll take off to lead the Denver cell.
Beth: (Moving to dishes) Here, I'll get that.
Anne: You sure? You look half dead. (Begins paper work) My study's perfect for communications to headquarter. Soon as Dave gets his head screwed on, I’ll get him writing columns, press releases. It’ll free me for organizational thinking.
(Suzy appears in dressing room (top level) as bride. She’ll check her makeup, veil, and leave a bridesmaid's dress hanging)
Beth: What’d the Blacks say?
Anne: Hmm?
Beth: The Panthers. Did you offer to split the dynamite with them?
Anne: Gotta phone Fred Hampton in Chicago. Been trying to get through all morning.
Beth: He is superb – got the whole South Side organized.
Anne: They’re drawn to him like a soft silver lightening rod. I want him to intercede. Blacks here won't touch us with a ten foot club.
Beth: Why? The briefs you wrote for Martin Luther King should be...
Anne: I don't talk about that. The King was a fool.
Beth: Oh. I thought you said he...
Anne: (Sharp) He's dead, isn't he. Walked right into it.
(Beth looks at Anne oddly; Anne concentrated in work)
Beth: My sister and I sang.
Anne: (Looks up at Beth) Go up for a nap. You’re going to fall over.
Beth: Know what was the hardest thing? At home?
Anne: (Back at work) Uhmhmh?
(Beth speaks as she climbs. Anne will dial long distance several times and get no answer)
Beth: Their bewilderment. They look at me bewildered, and I look back, all the way to Guatemala. That's when I walked out of the circle of sweet Miss Americas so far that I could see it was a glass bubble in never-never land. But I'm still in isolation, and what I've seen has made me old. (Beat) In Guatemala they were just so...poor, it made me angry how much I had. I knew right away I'd live as they did – no electricity, no furniture, potatoes at night – not only so they'd trust me, but so I'd understand their life. My peers hated me. I worked too hard; I gave up too much; when I got sick they said I "willfully undermined the work." (Beat) When the Guatemalans rebelled just to get enough food, we petitioned, we begged, but the corruption... Even our own ambassador’s tight face behind his air-conditioned window, the danger if he unrolled it, of a rush, an immersion in the heat of humanity. But oh my god, all these barriers are glass; they'll implode; they must! Because I'm in the dead space between panes unable to breathe with no strength to crash through, to free myself, and those on either side.
(Beth's speech has become "public," like a rally, but, in fact, she’s climbed into a memory, and is startled, arriving suddenly in the dressing room. A dress hangs amid flower boxes, tissue, makeup. Beth looks at it doubtfully; Suzy, the bride, bursts in)
Suzy: Beth, Beth, Beth. I knew you'd come!
(Suzy embraces Beth, crunching her gown. Below, phone rings, Anne answers– )
Anne: Hello. ... What?
Suzy: You had to!
Beth: 'Course I did.
Anne: All right, Jack, I heard you: "Shut down".
Suzy: (Hugging Beth) Oooh, thank you!
Anne: Why? What happened? Jack?
Beth: I'm late, aren't I?
Suzy: They can’t start without me.
(Below, Anne looks at receiver, unhooks the phone, sits alarmed)
Suzy: (Calls out) Beth is here! We'll come as soon as she's dressed.
Beth: (Looks skeptically at hanging dress) That's it?
Suzy: Yup. Chose it to go with your eyes. Mint green. The bridesmaids are pink.
Beth: (Hates it) Lovely.
Suzy: I hope it fits. You're so skinny now, I hate you. (Lifting dress)
Beth: Look, I better get a little...cleaned up before I put it on.
Suzy: In there's the wash room.
(Beth goes off. Suzy talks to her)
Suzy: Mom kept warning me not to count on you. Cause we hadn't heard, and couldn’t find out where you were. Aunt Ramona's here. Remember when we broke off her rose bush, and hid in the garage loft scared to death?
Beth: (Off) You wouldn't come down till I promised I'd say I did it.
Suzy: And T-dore's here! He still adores you. And Mrs. Merchons from the choir. Beth, do you think... Could we sing?
Beth: (Re-entering with towel, carrying jeans, shirt) What would we do? "Side by Side?"
Suzy: I wanted us to do... Sit down. I'll lend you some makeup.
Beth: I don't want...
Suzy: Come on. You're pale as a ghost. (Leans to apply "blush") We could do something anyway. That's a good blush for you. See?
Beth: What do we still know?
Suzy: Here, this shadow’ll match. You mean, what do we know that we can do in church.
Beth: (Applying shadow, eyes Suzy) Listen, are you sure about this?
Suzy: Ooooo, don't start. I got jitters.
Beth: It's a sideshow, Suzy.
Suzy: We've been playing wedding since we were three.
Beth: Since you were three. I was older.
Suzy: Don't you like Jeff?
Beth: Sure, but...
Suzy: How about "Open Our Eyes?"
(They giggle at irony of title. Suzy suddenly grabs Beth, holds her)
Suzy: I was so scared watching the news from Chicago that I'd see a cop smashing his club, and the bloody face would be yours.
Beth: (Holding her) I know.
Suzy: And Daddy just...
Beth: Hush. (Beat) "Open Our Eyes" is for Easter.
Suzy: (Recovering) Yeah... Maybe "God So Loved The World." That's sort of Christmas, but...
Beth: We don't know any wedding songs. (Beat) You're really going to do this?
Suzy: Sure. I'll just jump. (Test, singing– ) "God so loved the world..."
Beth: (Picking up hair brush) Jump?
Suzy: Shut my eyes and... Let me do your hair. (Takes brush, brushes Beth’s hair)
Beth: …hold your breath and jump. No wonder you're jittery.
Suzy/Beth: (Harmonizing on second line) "God so loved the world..." (Knock)
Suzy: Almost ready! You haven't even got enough hair for a ribbon.
Beth: (Singing) "...that he gave his only begotten son..." Leave it. (Stands) Better get this on. (Reaches for dress. Suzy helps her into it)
Suzy/Beth: (Fastening dress, they sing in harmony, unself-consciously, intent on dressing) "...that whoso believeth, believeth in him, should not perish, should not perish, but have everlasting life, everlasting, ev–er–la–asting life." (They face each other, testing pitch, holding hands)
Suzy: (Pulling Beth quickly off) Come on.
(Lights out above. Door bell. Anne sits mid-level, with paperwork. At bell, she’s startled, looks down. Jack enters, at edge of stage, carrying wooden crate)
Anne: God. (Goes to meet Jack. When she’s close, tense, low– ) Bringing it here?
Jack: Change of plan.
(Silent, Anne guides Jack over rubble and in to set crate on table. Then they look at each other across it, tension drops, a little laugh of relief)
Anne: Hi, Jack.
Jack: Good to see you. (Light kiss as they move back to door)
Anne: How come it’s you?
(Jack is looking out at street, cautiously)
Anne: Why’d you order a shut down?
Jack: Anything strange happen?
Anne: No. But why did you...?
Jack: (As he leaves for another load) Tell you on the inside.
(As Jack goes, Dave enters with a crate, carefully stepping over rubble. Jack and Dave pass without a glance. Anne stands at door, waiting. Distance is long – "entry of dynamite” dynamic)
Dave: (Passing Anne) Like stealing a baby's rattle. Now, about my reward?
Anne: (Sharp, low) Button it; I've got neighbors. On the kitchen table. Carefully.
(Dave, chastened, sets down crate, hurries out. Jack enters with two crates)
Anne: (At door) Sure you can handle that much?
Jack: Yup. Got the terrain charted. (Sets down, exits as Dave enters) The sooner we're finished, the fewer see us.
(Anne shoots out ahead to carry in crates too. All three in and out. Jack out again. Dave coming behind Anne, now carrying two at once)
Dave: (Breathing a second) Where's Beth?
Anne: (Leaving) Sleeping. She's whacked from the wedding trip.
Dave: (As he exits) I'll bet.
Jack: (To Dave as they cross each other) This'll be it.
Dave: OK, I'll lock up.
(Jack inside, collapses, extremely on edge in spite of exhaustion, beside crates)
Anne: (Bringing her last crate) Rough?
Jack: Sure.
(Dave enters with last two crates. All in kitchen)
Dave: (Exploding) My god god god, look at that.
(Anne silent. They stand looking at crates, each aware of the danger)
Jack: Getting it was nothing, but thinking about what you've got... Like, one backfire on the bridge, and no more bridge.
Anne: Why did you go, Jack? And why come here?
Jack: (Hand on her arm to silence her) Wait.
(Anne frustrated, looks at Dave, realizing Jack may not want to speak in front of him. Beth above, dazed from sleep, starts down stairs)
Dave: Jack was really smooth. Walked in like he was an old salt.
Anne: You didn't ask how to use it?
Jack: Better to seem hip. I worked construction in high school.
Dave: He told them he needed the stuff to rip out some rotten old stumps. He was speaking truth. The man’s wasted as an engineer; he's a fucking poet.
(Beth comes into Jack's view. He looks at her, startled. Seeing him has stopped her descent)
Anne: Stuff really turned you on, huh, Davey? (To Jack) This kid work out?
Dave: Did I pass the nerve test, you mean. (Notices Jack's look, then sees Beth) Oh. Didn’t I tell you she’s here? Pleasant dreams, princess?
Beth: Everything's happened without me. (Joins them, but ignores Jack)
Jack: Hello, Beth.
Anne: They just now got here.
Beth: This is it?
Dave: That's the stuff.
Beth: (Light laugh) Well. (Beat) Why’d you bring it here?
Dave: (Looking at them, uneasy) That’s what I’d like to know.
Anne: (Glare at Jack, who avoids her) I gather the only answer is “Later?”
Beth: (Accepts the mystery, and– ) Can I see it?
Dave: Sure. (Moves, but stops) or...you know how to proceed, Maestro?
Jack: I do. (Moves to crate) We just have to be careful of sudden or sharp moves. (Opens crate, as they all look, he picks one up) This isn't a gun. If it's in your hand when it fires, there's no use aiming at the other guy. (He holds it toward Beth. She takes it from his hand) See how you have to trust your friend?
(She ignores his double entendre, hands it back. He puts it gently in the crate)
Dave: I was scared shitless when we loaded it in. But you know what? It made my head very clear, like a shot of oxygen; it dropped the temperature – tzoom.
Jack: (Tense - staring at Beth; no response) Better move it. Where to, Anne?
Anne: (Off-guard) I hadn't... Woodworking room, I guess.
Jack: Show me.
(Anne moves down steps to cellar. Jack follows.)
Dave: (In kitchen) You know it was one thing to bring the stuff...
Anne: (In cellar) All right? It's cool and dry.
Jack: Never any flooding?
Anne: Never since I played pirates and ghosts.
Dave: ...but I hadn't thought about living with it.
Beth: Sort of...alters the atmosphere.
Jack: Perfect. OK, here it stays. (Starting back up stairs)
Anne: What is coming down?! You were just supposed to bring the cash to Barton.
Jack: Ask me again when we're finished. And watch Dave.
Anne: (Following him upstairs) What?
(Jack picks up a crate. So does Dave)
Beth: Can I carry them?
Jack: (Looks at her; she meets his gaze) Yes. But walk it first. You too, Dave.
Dave: (Setting crate down) Good idea.
(Beth goes down first, followed by Jack with crate, then Dave. Anne adjusts lights on the way)
Jack: Dave, carry a crate, then stay down there. We'll work a relay. Anne knows her space.
(A relay begins, so each has fewer steps to go, with Jack above, Beth from top to mid-stair, Dave, from mid-stair to Anne, below, who regulates stacking)
Dave: (Carrying to Anne) Whooh, sure about this new tenant, Gorgeous? There's enough sauce here to rattle a whole block of landmark mansions.
(Dave climbing for a crate, back and forth as dialogue continues. Beth, silent, ignoring Jack's attempts to lock eyes with her, makes circuits, handing crates to Dave)
Anne: The mansions could use rattling. Way down to their rightful Indian bones.
Dave: My, my, what would Daddy say?
Anne: That he’d trust Indians if it weren't for their Jew noses.
Dave: Ooooo, straight to my heart. (Hands her his crate, makes another circuit as he talks) This is death, Anne. I rattled over every pothole sitting on this stuff today, but my brain was alive...like with a sniff of ammonia. I wasn't afraid.
(Arriving down, he swiftly picks up a stick of dynamite, waves it in air, then speaks softly)
Dave: Do you know what that feels like? Like I could take you in one bite. Dare me?
Anne: (Tempted) If you're that high, you don't need a dare.
Dave: Right. (Turns away, continues circuit) So I’ll track the layers your coolness sits on. When they dig up this street for a gas leak, they find the Manhattans, mild people. And on top of them the shrewd puchasers of this 24 dollar island, and up and up to your daddy's own workshop, stuffed with dynamite. (Beat) Ordinary house when it was built, but you can't buy one now. Unless you're an oil sheik. And the people who’ve always had them are very sure who they are. (Very close to Anne)
Anne: And who their daughters are?
Dave: (Leaving) Oooo you are so elegant. That's the sleekness of knowing all eyes are on you. Have you ever doubted yourself...by so much as a jagged fingernail?
Anne: (Laughs) And that makes you curious?
Dave: It arouses, yes.
Anne: I'm tough meat.
Dave: Chance I take. (Close to her) Didn't anybody ever tell you violence is sexy.
Anne: Violence is not sexy.
(As Beth ascends to get a crate, Jack blocks her, and takes her in a deep, desperate kiss. She responds)
Dave: The most consistent–and bizarre–reaction to death...is copulation.
Anne: You mean someone else's?
Dave: Death? Yes.
(Dave's fondling her, Anne does not resist)
Dave: It’s a system check. Checking out life to be sure you've still got it.
(Dave and Anne bend over the crates in a clinch, while Jack and Beth come up for air– )
Jack: (Relieved) Well.
(Beth moves immediately past him to get another crate)
Jack: Now wait a minute...
Beth: (Picking up the crate) This is the action.
Jack: That's right, but...
Beth: Right.
(She moves past him)
Jack: Do I have to grab you again?
Beth: Try it.
Jack: (Beat) No. You grab me.
(Beth holds look, then starts down with crate. Angry, Jack blocks her, takes hold of the crate, pulls it away. Beth gasps, alarmed by the danger. Jack sits on step with dynamite in his lap)
Jack: (Terse confession) I got back two days ago.
Beth: Anne knew?
Jack: Yes.
(Beth starts away)
Jack: Three weeks organizing – Seattle, then San Francisco, Chicago, Dallas, Washington, Atlanta. (Beat) Was it bad for you?
Beth: I was gone, too.
(Jack sits silent, watching her. She breaks his gaze, leaving– )
Beth: They were right to split us.
(Anne, below, breaks from clinch, with an outburst– )
Anne: Violence is sexy? I've never heard such a pile of macho, sexist...
Dave: Don't turn on me, sshweetheart (Draws Anne into another kiss, but…) Nothing sexy about Ghandi, or Martin Luther K...
(Anne shoves Dave away, climbs stairs to Beth, who’s continuing with crates)
Dave: I mean, nobody ever got it up by swaying to the ooms of "We Shall Overcome."
Anne: That's enough!
Dave: Oops. Could’ve sworn I was playing with voluptuous Ms. Pick-up-the-gun.
Anne: (Shouts) You ass. I was there. You think giants come along so you can sneer?
Dave: So you worshiped him; he said "believe in me, and..."
Anne: You have no idea what it takes!
Dave: …and now look at you.
(Anne on stairs becomes rally, like she's speaking to thousands. Beth carries crates, and Dave will join her, piling dynamite higher)
Anne: Do you!? The colossal soul it takes – to be nonviolent in this world. The immensity of him. (Begins quietly) When they told me what happened...I laughed. A funny little laugh. It was so silly. Not possible...that such a gigantic force could be effected by something so ludicrous and crude as a bullet. You can't shoot a messiah in the midst of his work. But America could. (Beat) There is a moment when nothing is the same again. When some...injustice enrages you as nothing has before. And you know you must act, and keep on acting, until that injustice, that crime, is wiped from the universe. The odd thing is, you don't have to be a strong, or brave, or forceful person. You just have to be angry. It will frighten you. It's a primal instinct – cataclysmic. You must act. Or you will cease to be human.
Dave: (Still) Act…with violence.
Anne: It was simple. They shot him. America's answer to his nonviolence was to shoot him. I changed then.
Jack: (From kitchen, where he's reserved one crate) Anne?
Anne: (Snapping back to present) Yeah?
Jack: Got room in the refrigerator for a crate?
Anne: (Quickly inventorying her situation, turns abruptly) Make it.
Jack: OK.
(Jack opens refrigerator, takes out beer, lifts in last crate, shuts refrigerator. They all gather)
Dave: (Collapsing) "Excuse us, Officer, it's only a miniature eclipse we’ve got here. You know, like a million earth's worth of burning gas."
Beth: (Handing him a beer) Pretend it's silage, Davey. You're in trouble if that gets too hot, too.
Dave: Hey – this whole house could go up, like– (Snaps fingers. Chill, as everyone imagines it) But the up-side? Then the whole freaking world could not deny...you cats are serious.
Jack: (Sharp) You got this guy roped in?
Anne: Only tenderized.
Dave: And implicated. Or is it "accompliced."
Anne: However you want to tell it, David.
Dave: I said I’d help you move the stuff, and that’s all I said.
Jack: And you’re still here.
Anne: (Finally bursts– ) Why the hell have I been dangling over a pit for two hours? Why’d you order a shut down?!
Dave: “Shut down”?
Beth: Are we shut down?
Anne: Yes. This king-pin called it after you went to sleep.
Jack: I had to.
Anne: Why!
Beth: What went wrong?
Dave: What the hell are you talking about?
Jack: (Beat, then, glaring at Dave) East Third Street's been busted.
Anne: What!
Dave: Jesus!
(Beth sits down without a word, will remain very still. Silence)
Anne: (Suddenly) Ned... ?
Jack: (Drained) I saw them put him in a pig car. Barton and Josy too.
Anne: My god. (Sits lost an instant, then shouts) You've known this since you called me?
Jack: (Beat) I have.
Anne: You bastard. Why didn't you tell me?!
Jack: What would you have done?
Anne: Something to help them. Like you should have been doing.
Jack: Like throwing myself in front of the pig-mobile?
Anne: Like getting the lawyers over to the 9th precinct.
Jack: They can do that for themselves, Anne. You know the rules.
Dave: Then, when you flagged me...?
Anne: You didn't even get to Third Street?
Dave: Only far as Avenue A. Jack practically jumped off the curb. Said I was late, and we better get going.
Anne: But you didn't call me then. It was later than...
Jack: Anne, think. I couldn't be sure I wasn't tagged. I didn’t call till I was sure.
Dave: That's what all the twisting back on the Parkway was. Thought it was just paranoid...
Anne: You didn't tell him either? You just ran off to Connecticut.
Jack: I just went ahead as planned.
Anne: As though nothing had... Not as planned. Barton was supposed to go, not you.
Jack: I carried out the action, made sure the action was accomplished.
Anne: Born-again conservative.
Jack: Anne...
Anne: You'll go on trimming tomato plants when your mother drops from sunstroke!
Dave: What if Anne had called East Third? It must be staked out. What if she’d gone over there?
Beth: Jack told her "shut down." Shut down means lay low. Contact no one.
Anne: No. Shut down meant "squeeze your ass, lady." Cross your legs and sit on it till Daddy decides what to do.
Jack: You'd have gone storming out and lost everything, Anne. The rule is "scatter and wait."
Anne: And sooo, certain I could not be trusted to follow the rule, you took unilateral action.
Jack: I had the information. It was my responsibility to make the decision.
Anne: To keep me in ignorance. To maintain the male prerogative.
Jack: Christ.
Anne: Scatter and wait. And warn others.
Jack: I did. As soon as I could.
Anne: You told me nothing!
Jack: All you had to do was trust that I knew what I was talking about.
Anne: All I had to do was obey you.
Jack: All right!
Beth: (Pause. Quietly) Should we talk about what to do.
(Anne hits something, collapses, leaning on her arms over the table, shaking. Others uneasy)
Anne: Ned gone. And Josy. Goddamn it all to hell.
Dave: Maybe he's not gone. Maybe...
Jack: There's a warrant on him. He’s gone. They'll keep the rest till they scare up something.
Anne: How did they...?
Jack: Exactly.
Dave: What?
Beth: ...find out.
(All look at Dave)
Jack: I don't think it's him.
Dave: What are you...
Jack: I could be wrong.
Dave: You...
Jack: That's why I didn't tell him on the way. Trying to gauge his response to everything. And why I waited till now, with all of us here. To watch him.
(All still looking at Dave. He looks dumbly at them)
Anne: How long has he had the Third Street address?
Dave: Now just a...
Jack: Since Ned ran into him on Monday, and he asked about us.
Dave: Just a goddamn minute. Would I drive my wagon for you?
Anne: You could collect more intelligence.
Dave: You're going to have me screaming in a...
Beth: Then why haven't they hit here yet?
Anne: Unless he hasn't had time to report.
Dave: Stop it! Just shut up.
Beth: Could he have been tagged?
Jack: Not likely. He’s been cold quite a while. Could have been a tag on any one of us... Or someone inside. A plant.
Anne: God, I don't want to think about that.
Jack: Yeeah.
Beth: (Beat) What are the chances...
Jack: That they know this place? We just have to wait.
Anne: Shit. Wait to be hit.
Beth: What will they have found on Third Street?
Jack: My stuff. There wasn't much left...
Anne: Oh! Thank god we moved the office here. All the files. And correspondence.
Jack: ...but a couple more hours and they'd have found dynamite.
Anne: (To Beth) You said you had stuff there.
Beth: Books. A few clothes.
Anne: Not this address?
Beth: No. Josy gave it to me in code on the phone. I only kept it on me till I got in town.
Anne: Ned had a personnel book.
Jack: He might have had time to dump it. We don’t know how much warning they...
Anne: We were so few already. (Sinks into chair)
Jack: Arsenal safe. Army wiped out.
Anne: Is there anything we can... If they're gone, maybe there's noth...
(Silence)
Beth: What If none of this happened...if Jack didn’t tell us...like we’re in a fantasy...
(Beth gets up, walks away. Jack reaches for her. She avoids him)
Anne: She's right. We'll go crazy if we sit. Teach us to build these things.
Dave: Accomplish the action! Set a bomb on the Ninth Precinct?
Anne: (Reacting sharply to mockery) What about him.
Jack: Your instinct?
Anne: (Beat) Nooo.
Jack: Probably 85% no. Pretty ugly.
Dave: Do you mind!
Jack: What have you got to say for yourself?
Dave: Shit-heads.
Anne: He's caught here, no matter...
Jack: Yeah.
Dave: What?
Anne: You were planning to stay?
Dave: I'm a prisoner?! (Looks at them both. No response) Oh no. Nothing doing. No way.
Anne: You got a big-time thrill on this caper.
Dave: Forget it. Came for the laughs, got no dog in the family fight. Just a temporary-type felon.
Jack: Is anyone expecting you?
Dave: No, but...
Anne: Good. Sit tight.
Dave: There is no way I'm missing the eclipse. It'll be 2017 before there's...
Anne: That's tomorrow, Dave. We'll talk about it tomorrow.
Jack: Did you pull the phones – so no one connects who could be traced?
Anne: Of course.
(They stand, taut with the pain and emergency)
Anne: Let's go then.
Jack: Yeah.
(Jack opens refrigerator, Dave watches warily, as Jack lifts crate of dynamite, sets it down, opens)
Jack: I felt so...helpless. Half a block from me – there’s Ned and the Pigs and the rest. People lounged in broken glass, gaping. I felt like my brain was flashing red: "Me too, you want me too!" But no one saw me. (Sits, helpless)
Anne: Is this the hardware? (Gets box with bags she’ll set out)
Jack: There's got to be something we can do besides waiting to show on their radar!
Anne: No, you were right. They expect us to flap now they've entered the hen house. We wait.
Jack: And gamble.
Anne: That they don't know where to look. Yes.
Dave: Have you got a telescope here? I read in the paper that...
Jack: You know what this means? We've got to go under.
Anne: Cool it. This is temporary.
Jack: (Gets up swiftly – opening bags, setting out wires, tape, nails, blasting caps) Shutdown has got to become our status quo.
Anne: Christ, Jack, you're such an alarmist. We'll wait to see what happens with Ned and...
Jack: You think we can scurry out setting bombs in the morning, and still pop into a rally at noon?
Dave: (Uneasy watching) Not noon. 2 PM Saturday, Washington Square Arch. Raindate: ...
Anne: Action’s the perfect cover. And multiple actions can look like multiple groups. Just because there's been a bust doesn't mean...
Jack: How long do you think it'll take them to find us?
Anne: If they're looking.
Jack: For Christ's sake, your daddy's in the phone book. They can call directory assistance!
Anne: You're running scared, Jack. What kind of power can we maintain if we hide?
Jack: That what you're in it for – power?
(Beth moves, will climb a few stairs, get a rifle, and sit breaking it down, checking, cleaning it)
Dave: Ooo, you hit it there. The lady likes to get behind a microphone.
Jack: Why balk at going under, Anne? We've seen it coming. We're in small units, connected, but able to operate in isolation, if cut off. So this is it. Ahead of schedule.
Dave: Just one farewell performance. Think of her public.
Anne: (To Jack) You can organize yourself straight into a pile of shit.
Dave: Pow! Secure in your isolation booth, hunched over a key transmitter...
Anne: Shut up, Dave.
Dave: …you'll be found in 91 years, with crumbling eyelids...
Anne: Christ.
Dave: ...still waiting for the connection.
Jack: There's no waiting, wise ass! This whole fucking globe is about to boil. (Jack straightens, speaks as at a rally) How much fatter could we get? Like a parody of Santa wheezing ho ho ho, I'm the great father. Bring me your poor, and I will exploit them, batten down the screws of their crumbling dictatorships, exterminate them if they should rebel.
(Jack finishes passionately, towards Beth; she’s turned on watching him)
Dave: Right on! That what you smuggled out of junior exec summers at your dad's multi-national?
Jack: Don't strain for cutes, Dave. My dad trades in futures. All I could have smuggled was cows.
Dave: This your line, too, Beth?
Beth: You smell the burning flesh, Dave. Why are you hiding?
Jack: Hiding's worse than being drugged or asleep.
Anne: Right! And if we’re underground, we’re muzzled. Who can we wake?
Dave: What did I tell you. She wants to lead the parade. Strut them thighs.
Jack: She should make up her mind – revolutionary or movie star!
Anne: (Stunned, attacks Jack) You can't stomach that a woman has power, that after you screw her she doesn't curl up and gurgle.
(Beth startled, looks at Jack, and he at her, uneasy)
Dave: You mean, you two...?
Anne: (Interrupting) You're a jealous prick because you can calculate and structure till your balls fall off, but it's me...me that stands up and takes the people with me.
Dave: Jack hasn't got your legs.
Beth: If Anne's legs make them listen, what’s the problem?
Dave: Hitler wasn't very sexy.
Beth: Castro is. You've got to know your market. Sex sells. Americans don’t go much for rank. Or talent. And you've got no chance at all if they suspect you've got brains. So what's left?
Jack: We can't have it both ways. If our intent is outside the law, our public action is finished.
Dave: I'd like to know how the hell you painted yourself into this hot little corner, where you start heaving bombs?
Beth: Dave...
Dave: I mean, you cats have escalated faster than the Joint Chiefs.
Anne: How dare you.
Dave: I can see Anne doing it. She'd pick up the gun if somebody scuffed her boots. And maybe Jack could compute himself onto such a gangplank. But Beth? There's no way Beth could arrive at such a brutal, suicidal...
Anne: You lazy coward.
Jack: You quit! You have no right to touch what we've been through.
Dave: And you're all fantasizing. Like failed revolutionaries. Guns, bombs...
Anne: Yes it's criminal, and no one will help. But watch how many hundreds of thousands cheer when the first draft center is blown.
Dave: Who do you think you're kidding? The movement was grandiose, but you've upped the stakes because you can't admit it's over.
Jack: The old game was more fun, huh, Dave? Marches, rallies, sleep-in's…if you forget the murders down South, it was better than old times, actually: There were flowers!
Anne: Pretty memory to retire on, huh, Dave? But that was the fantasy. (Rising to lead a rally) ...that our country was what we'd been taught. And the farther we marched, the more we saw, what welled in our footsteps was blood. So we stopped our happy march. The land of the free was a fantasy.
Jack: The buck stops here. And it costs us: Isolation. Exile. Jail. (Beat) Now you're retired, what do you think of the war, David?
Dave: (Wary) What do you mean.
Jack: What do you think about children jumping up and down...trying to shake off napalm.
Dave: (Shaking) You...
Anne: Or National Guard, splattering freshman who stopped to watch a rally on their way to class.
Beth: Or Maya, leading me to her dismembered father.
Jack: Have you met any happy Vets lately?
Dave: (Hoarsely) What are you saying.
Jack: What are you doing?
Dave: (Furious) You bastards! I spent years working against this war.
Anne: Then how could you quit. The war didn't. Good god, your own brother was...
Dave: Shut up!! (Shaking. Pause) My brother died. That's the best reason in the world for me to chuck all this shit, to get out and live. He was just a kid, but he’s everything I knew about life. I remember when he was born. He shoved himself into my life, like an extension of me. I could love him because I wasn't alone anymore, and still hate him for taking my space. But if he could die...then I've seen the beginning and the end. I've seen that the end can come...to even a kid. I want to live.
Beth: But how? And for what.
Dave: (Upset) I’ll tell you what he lived for. He was not much like me, you see, not so sharp, so overbearing. He was always easy. Did whatever I could, but without the strain. And gentle-hearted. He hated my bullying, but never made noise. Quietly resisted, never cried. Only once in his life did he stand up and shout at me. It shocked me so I shut up He said my politics disgraced our parents. He said I never thought of who I hurt. He said he was ashamed of me. (Beat) Next morning he enlisted. (Pause, looking at them) Of course he was happy. He believed in it. At least... The last card I got came two days after the notice of his death. It said the usual stuff about the food, his friends...then, just before the end, as though it slipped in without his notice, he’d written: "Dave, I don't know why I'm here." Well, I knew why. Because I'd sent him there. (Walks away) So how do I go home.
Beth: (Quietly) Does that make it wrong to have said "no."
Dave: (Hoarsely) To the war? What good did it do? Nine years we've said no. You, me, millions.
Anne: And all our throats, shrieked raw at each new atrocity, have not accomplished anything. We have to bring it home. (Takes stick of dynamite, offers it to Dave) What they understand.
Beth: (Pause) Dave. I know your heart is with us. But if you’re gonna walk, walk now. (Looks at the others) I’ll answer for the risk. You can go. Thanks for the help.
Dave: (Looks at her ) Funny word, honor. He’s got it that died a’ Wednesday. But hell... (Takes the stick of dynamite) "Rockets' red glare" is how we celebrate. Right?
(Jack carefully lifts dynamite, making stacks of eight. Anne lays out hardware. Dave adds his stick)
Jack: (Light) It's all Americans believe in – the gun: Our mythic order.
Dave: Not order, forcing order – "Taming the lawless West.”
Jack: OK. Just get out one of each item.
Dave: But there was another spirit, like a minority report: the man who refused. To pick up the gun.
Beth: Wasn't a man. That spirit was a woman. And she pressured the man, because she wanted peace, a home. High Noon.
Dave: Perfect! "High Noon." (Handling hardware, begins unwrapping something) But why does it have to be a woman? Because, my sweet, a woman's excused. But a man who doesn't want to pick up the gun is called Coward.
Jack: (Seeing Dave unwrap a blasting cap) Don't open that!
Dave: Ahh, ah...
Jack: Put it down...carefully.
(All tense, then resume – Jack’s arranging tape, nails, battery)
Dave: See? Cowboys was never my game.
Jack: (To Anne) Did you reach Fred Hampton about splitting this stuff?
Anne: No answer. Or their phone’s out.
Dave: Maybe they’re “shut down” too. (Still unnerved, takes guitar, starts ”Masters of War") But if the man’s the Hero, he can refuse to pick up the gun, but only if he's already the fastest, deadliest, most violent guy in the valley.
Beth: I thought Hampton denounced violent action.
Anne: He did; but the Panthers don’t all agree, so he might talk with us.
Dave: This "hero" can only give up violence because he's sick of it. But the catch is...he never can. He's always forced to pick up the gun one-last-time. For his honor.
(All ready, all poised to begin building bombs, collective big breath, all listen, very still– )
Jack: This...is dynamite. It is what's called a high explosive. Dynamite should be regarded with the same respect you give a gun, but there is a difference: dynamite is always loaded. (Beat) It feels oily, smells sweet, gives you a headache. If you make a mistake, the first thing you lose is fingers, and hearing, then eyes, and a lung. Your intestines and blood vessels may burst, simply from force. Then, if you still notice, your arms and legs will go. And finally, your head will be removed from what was your body. (Beat) Like a gun, dynamite must be set off. It will not explode when you look at it, or shake it, or even drop it on the floor...probably. It's a mixture of a small amount of something that explodes on the slightest provocation with a great amount of something that acts to muffle the possibility of explosion.
Dave: (Dropped in, low- ) Like a Yippie at the Republican convention?
Jack: That's why you need...this. (Picks up blasting cap, unwraps it) This is a blasting cap. The material inside this case is red phosphorus – what, in a person, you'd call hyperactive, supersensitive, ready to blow. It has a catalytic personality. The only encouragement it needs is heat, a tiny spark, and it will consume itself in an explosion.
(A black man in stocking cap has come to edge of stage, sits on debris)
Dave: (Softly) Ka-pow-ee – and it’s organic. Sun's been doing it five billion years.
Jack: Now this small explosion is just what is needed to activate, turn on...Miss Dynamite here. So, the two must be united. One blasting cap, in good harem fashion, can take care of many dynamites. We start with setups of eight. So... (Gathers eight sticks) ...Anne, the tape.
Anne: (Handing him roll) Here.
Jack: Rewrap the blasting cap and put it away for the moment. (Talks while demonstrating) Now. Wrap securely. No stick should be able to slip or shift. Set the bundle aside. Then, (As he does so) tear off four lengths of tape; lay them, adhesive side up, in front of you. Now. Take some four penny nails... (Takes handful, distributes on tape) ...spread them on the tape, and...
Beth: What for.
Jack: (Involved with securing tape) What?
Beth: Those nails. What do they have to do with anything. You don't need the weight, do you?
Jack: No, but...
Beth: What are they for?
Jack: …since we're not going to use metal boxes...
Beth: Yes?
Jack: They provide, to some extent, the same effect.
Beth: Which is...
Jack: To scatter, like the pieces of metal blown apart.
Beth: Like shrapnel.
Jack: Yes. (Beat) Now. The blasting cap has several wires, protruding here from what is called the “leg” end...
Beth: Why?
Jack: Why what.
Beth: Why do we need shrapnel? I didn't think we were trying to kill people.
Jack: A shrapnel effect magnifies the destructive power of the explosion.
Beth: Shrapnel destroys people, not machines.
Anne: Beth, don’t be naïve; he told you the explosion will blow you apart. Why kvetch about a few nails?
Beth: (Standing off) What the explosion does, it does to someone on top of it. Nails are meant to fly. Someone a long way off can be hit by a nail, just like a bullet.
Jack: There's no point in setting off polite little fire crackers, Beth. We won't be taken seriously if we don't do serious damage.
Beth: (Pacing away) Damage is one thing. Random murder is another.
Anne: You'd better think it through again, Beth. Maybe you're not certain...
Beth: I'm here. I don't need to think about it. I just don't like...
Anne: If you're so uptight now, what good are you going to be for firearms?
Beth: I’m a crack shot. (Going up stairs) And I need air.
Jack: (Racing after, grabbing her) Beth!
Beth: Let go of me, killer!
Jack: Beth, you can't go out.
Beth: Join the National Guard. They could use you at Kent State.
(Beth pulls away, climbs, fading up the stairs)
Dave: So parts the fearless revolutionary.
(Sound of window raising. The black man looks up at Beth, countering to watch)
Jack: (Startled) Beth!
Beth: (Calling back) I'm not jumping. Leave me alone!
Dave: (Shaking his head) Crack shot? That’s an all American girl. Better watch her.
Anne: I never doubt Beth. She's exactly who she says she is.
(Beth shuts window. The black man stands, circles round the stair, watching, and disappears. Suzy appears, dimly lit, just behind Beth. Suzy sings like a child. Beth murmurs slogans simultaneously, both increasing in volume to a cacophony – while below, the others tape bundles)
Suzy: (Sings) Jesus wants me for a sunbeam to shine for him each day...
Beth: (Chants overlapping Suzy) Peace now. Peace now. Peace now.
Suzy: (Sings) ...In every way try to please him; at home, at school, at play…
Beth: (Overlapping Suzy) Hell no, we won’t go; hell no, we won’t go!
Suzy: (Sings) ...A sunbeam, a sunbeam, Jesus wants me for a sunbeam...
Beth: (Overlapping) Kill, kill, kill, kill! Bring the war home
Suzy: (Sings) …A sunbeam, a sunbeam; I’ll be a sunbeam for him.
Beth: (Finishing) Bring it home, bring it home, bring it home…Now!
(Stop. Then Beth’s voice rises like a clarion call, as at a rally)
Beth This country's core, whoever it is that keeps this war going...is evil. We may find we’ve been ruled in these times by a hideous machine with no flesh or nerves or human organs. But whatever, whomever we find...must be destroyed without trace...or we will never find our honor again.
(Split second, then the whole stage goes dark)
Dave: Hey!
Jack: What the hell!
Anne: Beth?!
Beth: (From above) It's not me. It’s dark here too.
Jack: Where's the fuse box?
Anne: If she's dark up there, it's not a fuse.
Jack: (Calling) What can you see outside?
Beth: There's light across the street. I can't see this side.
Jack: (Sour) Oh, this is great.
(Anne is rummaging in kitchen area)
Dave: No need for sarcasm. Let's try paranoia. Maybe somebody's out to get us. See any fuzz out there, Beth?
Jack: Don’t be stupid. What would yanking our power accomplish?
Beth: (Looking out) No, nobody.
Anne: (Finds flashlight, candles, kerosene lamp) Matches in the second drawer down, Dave.
Jack: Don't strike anything here.
Dave: Oh, this is cheery.
(They manage to light lamp, set it on refrigerator. Beth has crept downstairs)
Beth: Just go ahead.
Jack: What?
Beth: With the building. I was out of line. I haven't changed my mind, but it didn't need a tantrum…
Jack: (Rattled, but taking hold) OK. let's go.
Beth: ...it needs a policy meeting.
Jack: Here’s your blasting cap. Mr or Ms hot stuff. And here’s wire – our main connection tool. Wrap it, so, around the bundle, and attach it to the crimp end of the cap...like this. Now, resting in this neighborly proximity, if the blasting cap gets agitated – hot – and explodes, so too will the mama load.
Dave: Right on. Tell it, brother.
(The black man reappears from behind, will come around and approach the door)
Jack: And how do we agitate the cap? With a spark from – you guessed it – (Picks up battery) good old Electrics 101. These double leg wires are positive and negative poles for the connection. (Connects one) Now. The only thing that remains is the delay. If you connect up both these legs right now, if you hook this to that... (Carefully showing what he means, but not doing it) ...we have a completed bomb. And it fires.
Dave: So what's the delay?
Jack: (Lifting out an alarm clock) Old man time.
Dave: You don't mean these bundles tick.
Jack: They do.
Dave: Shades of Dick Tracy.
(A strong knock. Black man in stocking cap has reached the door. All stop, look at each other)
Anne: It could be Janice. From next door. If her lights are out too.
(Another knock)
Dave: Jeezus.
Anne: She knows I'm staying here. Saw me this morning. I figured it was better. (Beat) I'll go.
Jack: Check first.
Dave: We might find out what the blackout's about.
(Anne reaches door, looks out peephole. Black man has stepped to side)
Anne: Gone already. (Opens door a little, calls) Janice?
Damon: (Steps forward) Excuse me, I'm looking for Dave Cohen. Is he still... ?
Anne: (Startled, but cool) No. Not here.
Damon: Oh. Sorry. He left this... (Shows scarf in his hand) You're Anne.
Anne: I don't...
(He suddenly lunges, grabbing her face, stuffing the scarf in her mouth, using his other hand to yank his cap into a ski mask that covers his face. But her physical response flips him, and he sprawls. Anne is thrown. Others come running)
Beth: Anne!
Dave: Oh, shit.
(Jack is still below, putting away the bundle. The black man pulls a gun, grabs Anne again, with her arm twisted behind her, puts the gun to her head. Seeing it, she doesn't struggle)
Dave: The man with the gun.
(All stand, guarded. Jack runs to group. Black man speaks– )
Damon: Any of you fuckers want to call your block association?
END ACT I
ACT II
All exactly as they were at close of Act I
Damon: You get one call. How 'bout it? (Beat) Didn't think so. Then I want this filled. (Slips off rain-wet knapsack)
Dave: (Taking knapsack) This...?
Anne: We don't have money.
Damon: You got what I want. Fill it with the "D," kiddies. While you wet your pants, the CIA's learning to spell. Fill it! Dy–na–mite. (Jerking Anne's arm up)
Anne: Ahahhh!
Jack: All right! I'll get it.
Damon: We'll all get it. (Jerks gun at them, pulls Anne along) Go ahead. Mama and I after you.
(They move to kitchen where Jack lifts crate onto table)
Dave: Excuse me, have you got bullets in that thing?
Damon: Open it.
(Jack opens crate)
Damon: Think you're putting me on? Drop the round eyes, Honky; you recollect. Where's the rest?!
Jack: This is it.
(Damon jerks Anne's arm. She screams)
Jack: All right! I’ll show you.
Dave: Excuse me, because if that gun’s loaded…
Jack: (Moving to stairs) How did you know...
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(Pages 1-46 show above.)