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© Port Whitman Times 2006
INTRODUCTION
We tend to think of God as a person - like us - God made in OUR image rather than us in God's. And maybe this is so, maybe not; but everything had to come from something, somewhere, and God is, after all, an Ideal. The perfect being we can only imagine, and so we conceive Him as us - but perfect us, with naught to do but BE perfect and look over our collective shoulder to see how imperfect we are (of course). God is - where- - Up there, out there, everywhere, except DOWN there, even if everywhere, IN us, advising, monitoring, encouraging us to be like Him, i.e., perfect, yet knowing we will somehow fail no matter how hard we try. After all, what is perfection if not unachievable? Perfection is only a dream, an ideal, thus by its very nature unachievable.
Christianity posits that God is like us, or, actually, we are like Him, and thus a melding of the two, a breeding between God and one of us, is entirely possible. But would God, in all His perfection, come down and lie with Mary? No - Somehow the word must become flesh, a sperm must invade her egg. A Messiah must be borne into this world. This is a story of how that might have come to pass.
SCENE 1 - Some time in the future. Office Interview.
HARKINS: Good afternoon.
WEBER: Good afternoon.
HARKINS: As you read in the ad, we're looking for someone to father a child artificially, by sperm donation. But this will be a very special child you see, as it will not be born here on Earth, but on the planet Algon.
WEBER: So I would never actually see the child I father.
HARKINS: True. Unless for some reason you have to travel to Algon.
WEBER: Fair enough, actually I'm not really ready to take on the responsibilities...
HARKINS: There will be no responsibilities beyond the initial donation of sperm. You read the brochure, and have had all of the requisite tests performed?
WEBER: Yes, here are the results. No HIV, no STD's.
HARKINS: And the genetic profiles?
WEBER: (Hands paper) Here are the results, showing no genetic predisposition to any long term illnesses or chronic diseases.
HARKINS: The way this project is planned, those may never become a factor.
WEBER: Why is that?
HARKINS: You see, the life we've planned is that of very dramatic proportions, likely to end in an early death at the hands of the authorities, given the level of development among the Algon species.
WEBER: Development?
HARKINS: Their governmental forms, their primitive lifestyles as compared with ours, their total unawareness of democratic principles, and the nature of their rulers, which tends toward the vindictive. In fact, we have to be very careful in the choice of the gender of the product, given that the Algonite women are barely beyond bondage, and that only in some areas.
WEBER: So, you're saying my child will be a son.
HARKINS: Be careful not to think in terms of "my child" as this will be a one-time effort on your part, and your responsibility will end as soon as you have given us your sperm donation.
WEBER: Have you decided upon the donor then?
HARKINS: We have narrowed it down to several finalists, but given your profile and background, I would say you are the most likely candidate.
WEBER: When will you know for certain.
HARKINS: Shouldn't be longer than a few days. But remember, we still have to get things moving on the Algon front too. Choose and get permission from the most likely mother.
WEBER: She hasn't been decided?
HARKINS: We've pretty much narrowed it down to a certain family line, but the actual mother hasn't been chosen. We're currently conducting interviews with three prospects there too, and getting daily reports on the results.
WEBER: Would it matter if I were...
HARKINS: (Suspiciously) Were what?
WEBER: Well, I...
HARKINS: Please tell me, if you think it might affect your eligibility as a donor.
WEBER: Well, actually, I'm a... I'm a Catholic priest.
HARKINS: (Pause) Oh. Well I think that...
WEBER: And I thought, since I can't marry and have kids, and my sperm is just the same as any other man's, that it, uh, would be OK.
HARKINS: Well, we'll, see, but since you won't really have any proprietary rights to the offspring, it shouldn't matter. Hopefully.
WEBER: Oh, thank you.
HARKINS: Don't mention it. Again.
LIGHTS FADE.
SCENE 2 - Algon, another Planet
Two women, Earthians, have exited their space module, are discarding their Earthic outfits and dressing as follows: MOSKOT in the robes and sandals that are the current style of dress on Algon, and LOREI in what would seem to be an "Angel" costume, complete with halo. Meanwhile, they speak:
LOREI: God, I hate this outfit, it's hot and it's itchy.
MOSKOT: You just miss the Air Conditioning on the module.
LOREI: Sure, but that doesn't make me less hot or itchy. Are you sure she's gonna believe this halo thing?
MOSKOT: Believe me, the folks here are very receptive to images of heavenly beings. They firmly believe in traditional creation and the Deity.
LOREI: (Sardonically) And we don't, I suppose. That's why we're here and gonna duplicate the whole Messiah episode.
MOSKOT: Look, let's not get into proving this or that, just do the job.
LOREI: And a sweaty job it is. Here, zip me up into this oven.
MOSKOT: I remind you, the climate here is almost identical to that on Earth.
LOREI: Right, but we're closer to the Algon equator in this desert. And no refrigeration. Oh give me the beach, the lake, the trees...
MOSKOT: They haven't invented refrigeration yet. They're just getting used to the wheel, and fire is...
LOREI: Yeah, yeah, I've seen the videos.
MOSKOT: Okay, let's stop with the weather, and get on with the job. This girl, Virginia, is your typical Argonite teenager, works in the family doing girl stuff, hauling water, cooking, cleaning.
LOREI: Housework, I might have known.
MOSKOT: Yeah, but she spends a lot of time outside, going to the well, tending sheep when needed, or taking care of kids for the neighbors. Y'know, the kind of things we either do for ourselves or hire undocumented immigrants to do.
LOREI: Okay, so I'm to come up to her in the field, as if I'm appearing from nowhere...
MOSKOT: After she wakes up from the mini-dart.
LOREI: She's already immobilized?
MOSKOT: What do you think I've been doing since I got dropped off.
LOREI: How long's she been out?
MOSKOT: For a half hour or so, so pretty soon she wakes up and there you are, the angel straight from heaven.
LOREI: I still think I should fly in with a personal jetpack.
MOSKOT: Too hokey, but we may have to use it later, which is one reason we chose you, because you're jetpack qualified.
LOREI: Okay, so she wakes up, sees me, and I give her the news.
MOSKOT: Waitaminute, you can't just drop it on her and leave; you have to give it some drama, so maybe don't be hovering over her at first; sort of appear out of the tall grass.
LOREI: Come at her from a distance.
MOSKOT: Not from like "afar" but from a little distance, so she gets a chance to see the outfit, so it registers that you're from someplace, uh, y'know, heavenly.
LOREI: Heavenly.
MOSKOT: You know what I mean. Divine, miraculous. Remember, these folks still believe God is responsible for things they can't explain.
LOREI: And what about the things we can't explain.
MOSKOT: That's on a higher level, and different. Let's stick to the job at hand.
LOREI: So I appear to Virginia and say "Hello girl, I'm your friendly angel from heaven, and I got good news and bad news."
MOSKOT: Something like that.
LOREI: The good news is you're to be the mother of the Savior. The bad news is you're knocked up, er, pregnant.
MOSKOT: She's not pregnant yet. They're still interviewing men for the father sperm donor.
LOREI: Okay so I tell her "You're gonna be pregnant," and she goes "But I'm not married yet," and I go "God will provide."
MOSKOT: Words to that effect.
LOREI: This is such bullshit.
MOSKOT: To you, but put yourself in her place. What does she know about things beyond the clouds, or even beyond the horizon. She still thinks Algon is flat, and for her needs, basically it is.
LOREI: You think she's gonna be fooled by this glitzy outfit and these spangly shoes into thinking I'm an angel from heaven?
MOSKOT: Frankly, yes, and if she isn't, we'll come at her from another direction, the voice from the module over the PA system. (imitating a bullhorn, stentorian) "Virginia, this is The Lord, and I want you to listen to my angel, who has important announcement for you and your people." Something like that.
LOREI: But why not try it that way first? Then I come at her out of the weeds, and we don't even have to use the minidart. I mean what if one of her family misses her and comes looking for her before she wakes up?
MOSKOT: Then we minidart them, keep the area clear until the episode is over and we're on our way back in the module. Look, we follow the directive for the mission to the letter, go home and let the generals do the thinking. We're just the lieutenants, see.
LOREI: Yeah, I see. Oops, she's waking up. "Hey girl."
MOSKOT: Wait! (pause) Wait till she's fully conscious. And try something better than "Hey girl." How about "Oh Miss, got a minute?" or...
LOREI: Or "You there. You in the robe. I come from uh, afar, that's where I'm from, and I was sent by the Lord. I gotta secret to tell you."
MOSKOT: (rolls eyes, almost groans aloud) Just get the message across that she's gonna be a mother.
LOREI: Waitaminute, waitaminute, here she comes. Okay, I'm on. (Goes off to meet Virginia) "Hey, ah, greetings, uh, hold it, hold it." (pause) "Who am I? I'm a special angel, and I'm here to tellya..."
MOSKOT: Oh jeez.
LIGHTS FADE.
SCENE 3 Office of Harry, Business Manager of The Project
HARRY: Mel, how many times have I gotta tell you, this is going to be decided strictly on a scientific basis, and just because someone is a relative is no reason to put them first in line.
MEL: But Harry, I'm your brother-in-law almost your own flesh and blood, and I have all the characteristics that you describe in your brochure.
HARRY: That's true Mel, and I wish I could just snap my fingers and make you the choice, but it's not just up to me, and even if I could...
MEL: But you're the head of the project...
HARRY: The business director Mel, I don't really have anything to do with the scientific end...
MEL: Yeah, yeah, yeah right Harry and the pope just hears confessions. Everybody knows that you control the cash that drives the program. And he who writes the checks is in charge.
HARRY: Would that it were so; if that were the case I'd pick you Mel, Laura and I are that close, and I know she would want it if you do. (abruptly) You haven't told her, have you.
MEL: Let's leave Laura out of it please. And no, I haven't breathed a word. Harry, I brought some sperm, you could put it right to work. Here's a sample (produces small plastic vial of "sperm"). At least have your people check it out.
HARRY: But Mel, I hate to break it to you, but, well, you're really too old for this project. We need young sperm.
MEL: Hey look, sperm doesn't know how old it is, probably doesn't even think at all, could be any age.
HARRY: That's not what I mean, Mel, it's how many active sperms there are in one, uh, load that counts, and the older you get...
MEL: Yeah, I know all that, Harry, but mine is good, I guarantee it; I exercise it regularly, keep it in shape, my sperm count is, uh, wayup there, I promise you.
HARRY: Really, Mel, 'cause from what Laura tells me, you two hardly ever do it anymore.
MEL: She told you that?
HARRY: Well, not in so many words, but the implication was that your sex life is pretty much kaput.
MEL: Kaput!
HARRY: Kaput.
MEL: How could she say that? I mean how could she tell anybody...
HARRY: Mel, I'm her brother. There isn't much she doesn't tell me.
MEL: Yeah, but that's between us. Private. She should have told me she was gonna tell somebody else.
HARRY: So where did this little sample come from Mel? You go at it with the mineral oil? A hand job?
MEL: No, Harry, Laura and I had a little, you know, and I collected it then.
HARRY: You mean you...
MEL: No, I mean she uh, collected it.
HARRY: How, Mel.
MEL: The usual way, I mean she...
HARRY: She went down on you? Laura went down on you and that's how you got it. Come on Mel, I personally know that Laura hates fellatio and wouldn't go down on you for a million dollars. (thinks) Well maybe a million...
MEL: Well, she did.
HARRY: (suspicious) And how did you get her to do that, Mel?
MEL: I don't know, it was my birthday, and I...
HARRY: You told her, didn't you.
MEL: Huh? Uh, ah, told her what, Harry?
HARRY: About the project.
MEL: (too quickly) What project?
HARRY: You know damn well what project. The messiah project. You told her to get her to...
MEL: I tried to tell her I was donating it to, uh, the Salvation Army, but she wouldn't buy that, and, and...
HARRY: And so you told her about our little experiment.
MEL: She won't tell anyone, Harry, I swore her to secrecy.
HARRY: Mel, how well do you know my sister? First thing she'll do is tell one of her friends, probably Rosie.
MEL: She promised. Swore on the grave of her mother.
HARRY: Momma is still alive, Mel.
MEL: You know what I mean. She won't tell. Take my sample, Harry, put it into play, that's all I ask. Just give it a chance. Please.
HARRY: (Exasperated) Okay, Mel, okay, but no promises. Remember, nothing promised.
MEL: Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
HARRY: I can't believe you told Laura.
MEL: This is my big chance, Harry. All my life I wanted a big score, and this is my big chance.
HARRY: Mel, this isn't a score, there isn't any money in this, and it's happening on Algon, not here, so who's gonna know.
MEL: I'm gonna know, Harry...
HARRY: And Laura's gonna know.
MEL: Well, yeah...
HARRY: And Rosie's gonna know, and Pearl is gonna know, and...
MEL: I'll go back and tell Laura to keep her mouth shut.
HARRY: Yeah, and tell the Mississippi to stop going south.
MEL: You'll put it in, then.
HARRY: Yeah, I'll give it to them, but no promises.
MEL: Okay, okay. Thanks Harry. You don't know how much this means to me. Thanks so much.
HARRY: Yeah, right. Sure, Mel.
LIGHTS FADE.
SCENE 4 Lights come up upon HARKINS, who as in Scene 1 is conducting another interview with WESTON, another potential sperm donor...
HARKINS: ... the life we've planned is that of very dramatic proportions, given the level of development among the Algon species, their governmental forms, their primitive lifestyles, their total unawareness of democratic principles, and the autocratic nature of their rulers. In fact, we have to be very careful in the choice of the gender of the product, given that the Algonite women are barely beyond bondage...
WESTON: Sounds as though you're leaning toward a male child.
HARKINS: Most definitely. A female would never be accepted by the Algonites to perform the role we have in mind.
WESTON: What role is that?
HARKINS: Well, I'm not really at liberty to discuss that, but let us say surely an educational one, and of heroic proportions.
WESTON: Heroic.
HARKINS: Yes, in fact I can tell you that once he becomes an adult, he, that is the product of this experiment, might be called upon to endure suffering and even death at the hands of these relatively primitive peoples and their rulers.
WESTON: Sounds like some kind of revolutionary.
HARKINS: That's an area we have not ignored in our research. But given that the Algonites have no idea that we exist, much less that we have any designs upon their way of life, we don't know what the results will be when they are presented with someone of their own who is familiar with modern technology and ideas.
WESTON: Just how far ahead of them are we?
HARKINS: Somewhere in the area of three thousand years.
WESTON: That far.
HARKINS: They exist in a relatively primitive era, and for the present we would like to keep it that way.
WESTON: But why not...
HARKINS: Only a small area of their planet is inhabited by species that have any idea of how to use their natural resources, and rather than going in there, taking over and developing areas that might serve to solve population and governmental problems here on Earth, we're planning to send this representative, who will be born of them, but will communicate with us in order to teach and convert them to an eventual acceptance of immigration by Earthites.
WESTON: And you propose to, ah, convert them to our way...
HARKINS: We prefer to think of it as saving them from a whole lot of grief and trouble we had to endure to bring us to where we are.
WESTON: Then this, uh, representative who's to be inseminated into them and born of them is to be more-or-less a savior, a messiah.
HARKINS: You might think of it that way.
WESTON: I might?
HARKINS: That's how it's to be sold, presented, to them, and being the undeveloped people they are, they'll accept this more readily than they might if we just went there and showed them how to make fire with a zippo lighter.
WESTON: The Messiah.
HARKINS: Just a heroic figure. Messiahs are another story.
WESTON: But that's what you're proposing.
HARKINS: Not at all. More of a, oh, a Clark Kent/Superman, from the planet Krypton.
WESTON: Or Spiderman, or Captain America, Batman... shall I go on?
HARKINS: Look, you came here as a possible sperm donor; I don't know how we got off the track but...
WESTON: My interest goes far deeper than sperm donation, I can assure you.
HARKINS: Oh?
WESTON: I represent the church.
HARKINS: The Catholic Church?
WESTON: Let's just say the Christian Church, a church which I can predict will deeply resent the use of their, their icon, their savior figure, for such mundane purposes.
HARKINS: We're not using their icon, or anything else that belongs to...
WESTON: What do you think this whole messiah business is? Nothing but co-opting and using something that is sacred to millions of people to trick a whole civilization into accepting development that won't be at all in their interests.
HARKINS: And why not in their interests? Look at life here on Earth, and compare it with life where people are still beating their laundry on rocks, and riding around on mules.
WESTON: Jackasses.
HARKINS: Whatever.
WESTON: You must admit that the messiah business has crossed your minds.
HARKINS: We want to use something that works, and we know that does. Is there any harm...
WESTON: But this story is sacred to many people here on Earth, don't you think when word gets out, that there'll be an uproar.
HARKINS: You overestimate people's concern.
WESTON: Why not just go there and show them what our life here is all about, and in the process convert them to Christianity, or Judaism, or Islam.
HARKINS: That's all very nice, but any of our Earthic religions have their limitations, and we want to develop something more in line with life today.
WESTON: You're denying that our religions would suffice?
HARKINS: You could look at it that way.
WESTON: You sound like a bunch of Scientologists.
HARKINS: Oh yeah, you forgot that one. And Bhuddism, and Taoism, and...
WESTON: Maybe NO religion at all, a messiah of godlessness.
HARKINS: Oh please, don't wave that in my face.
WESTON: I'm not waving anything, just letting you know that we won't tolerate any toying with our sacred ideals, and, yes, with our icons.
HARKINS: We're not toying my friend, we're for real.
WESTON: God is for real too, and you'll be reckoned with.
HARKINS: We'll have to accept that possibility. But right now we're looking for a sperm donor, and I'm sorry but you don't seem to fit the bill.
WESTON: If your intentions met with God's purposes.
HARKINS: Which are...
WESTON: Go to church, and you'll find out.
HARKINS: Well, thanks for coming, and this has been an interesting conversation, but I have people waiting... (Extends his hand)
WESTON: (Refusing handshake) This isn't the last you'll hear of me. (Turns and walks out, shouting "God is Love, God will reckon with you in heaven" etc.
HARKINS: (Picks up telepone, dials one digit, a local). Intercept a man coming out now, and hold him for future disposition. (Describes WESTON)
LIGHTS FADE.
SCENE 5: Office/Interview
DAVIS is being interviewed; he is of an obviously different race than HARKINS or any of the other characters seen so far.
DAVIS: ...and I've brought along my permanent record, all the way from grade school to the present day. I hope all my records and references are in order.
HARKINS: Well, we didn't specify in the ad, but since this is ah, a very ah, sensitive project...
DAVIS: Yes...
HARKINS: I don't know, I'm trying to figure out how it would work.
DAVIS: Let's lay the cards on the table.
HARKINS: Well, uh...
DAVIS: You mean my being black (or white or asian or indian or whatever other race is indicated by the casting of the show).
HARKINS: Frankly, yes. I don't mean that it wouldn't be acceptable to us, but I'm trying to fit a little black baby into the picture on Algon.
DAVIS: Oh? Are they...
HARKINS: In the local area where we're working, all of the people are white, I mean what we would call caucasian.
DAVIS: I see.
HARKINS: And to persuade them that a little black baby came from what their idea of God is... I don't know if it would work.
DAVIS: Why not?
HARKINS: Remember, they are not as far advanced, technically or socially as we here on Earth, or even as far as they are on earth, and it seems on its face that they just wouldn't accept it.
DAVIS: No tolerance of other...
HARKINS: As I said to you at first, these folks are thirty centuries behind us, and for the foster father we have chosen to take up the child as his own, even with persuasion from our representatives there, it's got to at least LOOK like him, and then there's the danger of the girl being stoned as a harlot.
DAVIS: But what do they know of the color of God? Maybe God could be another color.
HARKINS: Very true, and here it would make no difference, but as I said...
DAVIS: They're centuries behind us, I know.
HARKINS: I'm sorry.
DAVIS: Look, I really want to do this, not only for myself, but FOR my people, and If there is some way we can make it work, I know in my heart that this experiment will be favorably seen not only by us, but by heaven itself.
HARKINS: Heaven itself. Do you know this for a fact?
DAVIS: Who knows for a fact, actually has proof, that there even IS a heaven, but we who have faith that there is know that it is a just place that sees all of us in the same light.
HARKINS: That may be true, but we're not dealing with heaven here.
DAVIS: Maybe you are, and just don't recognize it.
HARKINS: Oh come now Mr. Davis, you must realize that this is a scientific project only, and we must deal with the realities of the laboratory, for lack of a better word. That's basically what Algon, and its people, its society, its customs, is: a laboratory where we're trying to prove out a hypothesis.
DAVIS: Which is?
HARKINS: That we can duplicate what happened here on another planet and was heretofore attributed to divine intervention. And to do that, we must control the experiment in all its permutations.
DAVIS: But think of it this way: Suppose you can convince the people there that this immaculate conception is directly from God - Their God, our God, the God of all creation. If you can somehow lead them to believe that, then the color of the baby won't matter.
HARKINS: That would depend upon how deeply their prejudices are rooted, how they view people who are different from them.
DAVIS: But you know, and I know, that we are not different, that except for color or shape of eyes etc., we are really all the same.
HARKINS: Are we?
DAVIS: You don't believe that we are?
HARKINS: Of course I do, and I can vouch for the people I work with too, but that's not what we're discussing here. It's what they on Algon will accept, and allow the experiment to go forward.
DAVIS: Oh.
HARKINS: How can we say to this caucasian woman "God is going to give you a little baby, and it's going to look like the very people you consider to be your enemies in the world."
DAVIS: These people are enemies of Black people on Algon?
HARKINS: Since they don't associate at all, and the Black people are on a different level socially, we assume...
DAVIS: You assume. You assume. Did you consider that they simply have chosen to live on different planes, and that they might actually have respect for each other on some level?
HARKINS: As I said, what research we have conducted...
DAVIS: And how extensive is that?
HARKINS: I must admit, in regard to race, rather cursory.
DAVIS: So maybe more research might be indicated...
HARKINS: I hardly think it proper for you to suggest we go back and start all over again.
DAVIS: Perhaps that isn't necessary. After all, if you simply go with a baby of a different race, and persuade them that it's God's will, and they accept that, won't that preclude all the research that you say you've done?
HARKINS: You might have a point, but it surely would be a monkey wrench into what we've planned, and maybe too big a wrench for the project to digest.
DAVIS: Won't you please just think about it?
HARKINS: A black baby. A black God. A different God.
DAVIS: Hey, you never know, that might actually be the case.
HARKINS: Yeah, but can we make them believe that, and overcome what we think might be centuries of prejudice and discrimination?
DAVIS: That depends on you. You say you're in control.
HARKINS: Of the project, not of the minds of the subjects. We can't force this down their throats.
DAVIS: No, I suppose not, but they're not the only society on Algon either. So if not them, maybe another group, another approach.
HARKINS: Let us think about it, and get back to you. Our people will be in touch with your people, let's say.
DAVIS: Yes, let's say that. And you want somebody to go there and do more "research, I'm available.
LIGHTS FADE
SCENE 6 The Project Business Office
HARRY: Are you crazy?! A Black Messiah to a group of white farmers living on primitive Algon! Never work. No way our financial people will accept it.
HARKINS: From this man's records, other than his color, he seems like a candidate I would recommend for our sperm donor. He's intelligent, articulate, physically strong enough to provide the right genes for what the child, the Messiah, must go through.
HARRY: But Charlie, I don't think even the appearance of an angel could convince these people that someone who's black could be their messiah.
HARKINS: No, that's the whole point, someone different from them, someone who comes on like a god who radiates divinity but comes out of them. This Mary wouldn't suspect that she was going to have a child different from herself or her tribe.
HARRY: Yeah, but...
HARKINS: Who knows if God is black or white or yellow. We all cast our God in our own images, but the real God, if there is one, could be any color, any thing or species, perhaps not even homo sapiens.
HARRY: What?
HARKINS: Human, Charlie. Maybe God would look like an E.T.
HARRY: Sure, and come down and artificially inseminate one of our women. Wouldn't that be an event.
HARKINS: Well, think about it. In past times, times when attitudes weren't so liberal and experimental, even in places in the world now where rigid, controlling people are in charge, a baby that was half E.T. and half human would be immediately destroyed at birth.
HARRY: A monster.
HARKINS: Right. But nowadays, if a baby is born that is, that looks weird, that baby might be saved, might survive at the hands of the obstetrics, just to see what contribution to society it might make, either as a subject or as a contributing member.
HARRY: And if it were destroyed...
HARKINS: You might get any number of organizations down on your neck, groups who advocate the preservation of life no matter what its condition, what its state. Churches would condemn you from the pulpit. Politicians would vilify you from the soapboxes to the halls of congress to the White House.
HARRY: "Evil Nazi life-destroyers."
HARKINS: Yeah, not to mention the Jewish groups just waiting to nip another holocaust in the bud.
HARRY: Well, you've got a point.
HARKINS: Look Harry, just interview the guy, see what you think. Physically you couldn't find a better candidate, and intellectually, well, I could quote degrees and titles, but better you see for yourself.
HARRY: Jeez, what a conundrum.
HARKINS: No need for conundrums Harry, this is artificial insemination, remember.
HARRY: Yuck, yuck, and on he comes with the jokes.
LIGHTS FADE
SCENE 7 Church Office
MILLER: I'm tellin' you rev, they're gonna MAKE a messiah.
LEWIS: You say they got a woman there's gonna be a Mary, and a Joseph, and a whole family line and...
MILLER: That's exactly what they think. They been plannin' it for years, feeding these yokels on Algon stories about their family line, plantin' and findin' golden plates with biblical histories, the whole shebang...
LEWIS: And it's gonna end up with a fake messiah.
MILLER: They think it's a real messiah, come to save them from themselves and lead them to the promised land (waving hands)
LEWIS: And they're lookin' for the donor to provide the sperm, the seed for the messiah.
MILLER: Right, I'm gonna interview for the job, seein' as I have the brains and the brawn to make a good strong...
LEWIS: They want a black man's sperm? The baby gonna be black?
MILLER: Well, they didn't say yet, but why not. This messiah gotta be different, gotta get attention.
LEWIS: That's for sure, coming out of those white women on Algon. Pure Aryans, as the Nazi's would say. Be lucky if they don't kill the baby as soon as it's born. Or the mama.
MILLER: Well, that might take a bit of preparation.
LEWIS: Yeah, not only of the Algonians, but of the Earthians who're engineering the project. You don't think they're gonna say "Hey, here's somebody different, why not a black messiah?" Yeah, right.
MILLER: But why not give it a shot? All they can say is no, and they at least got to give it consideration, the ad didn't say anything about what color the sperm has to be.
LEWIS: Come ON pal, it's gonna be like the old joke
MILLER: What joke?
LEWIS: Black guy goes to heaven, sees God, goes up to him and asks: "God, we've had a Polish pope, do you ever think we'll have a Black pope? God says 'Of course, my son, but not while I'm God.'"
MILLER: Yeah, you might be right. Oh, well...
LEWIS: But, but, BUT... Maybe there's a way.
MILLER: You thinkin' again.
LEWIS: Suppose we switch the sperm, so they don't know what's up until the baby comes out.
MILLER: Yeah, but...
LEWIS: Hey, what color is God anyway.
MILLER: Uuh, I dunno, all the pictures...
LEWIS: Right, all the pictures drawn by all the Italians and French and Germans who didn't even invent God.
MILLER: God was invented?
LEWIS: Well, the IDEA of God was invented. Nobody's ever seen God, so we're left up to our imaginations. That's what we came up with.
MILLER: What?
LEWIS: All the stuff that's in the bible, and the statues and the pictures.
MILLER: So the people that ah, invented God, they invented Him to look like them, right?
LEWIS: Yeah, I suppose.
MILLER: So, if we inventin' God, we invent God to look like US.
LEWIS: Okay, so what?
MILLER: So all we got to do is invent OUR God. And to do that, we got to come up with a platform.
LEWIS: You mean like the democrats and the republicans.
MILLER: No, not that kind of platform, a stage kind, where our God can be the star of the show.
LEWIS: What show. Ain't no show to be star OF.
MILLER: Well, not yet anyway, but this ah, experiment, this joke that the Earthians are playing on the Argonians, this joke could be just that.
LEWIS: What?
MILLER: A joke. Except that the joke's on the Earthians. Ha, ha, the God they fobbing off on the Argonians turns out different than they meant, and actually IS a messiah, right from God.
LEWIS: How you gonna do that?
MILLER: I'm thinkin' about it. I'll come up with something.
LIGHTS FADE
SCENE 8 Church Office
REVEREND MILLER IS IN HIS OFFICE, EATING LUNCH OUT OF A PAPER BAG AT HIS DESK. (or in his car) PHONE RINGS. HE PUNCHES SPEAKERPHONE.
MILLER: Hello, Church Of The...
THE LORD: Hi, can you talk?
MILLER: Who's this?
THE LORD: It's me... God.
MILLER: Who?
THE LORD: God... Y' know.
MILLER: Yeah, right. Who IS this?
THE LORD: I told you. God.
MILLER: (suspiciously) God who?
THE LORD: Me, God. No last name.
MILLER: (rolling his eyes) Are you kidding?
THE LORD: As a matter of fact, I'm not.
MILLER: What God?
THE LORD: You know, the regular God. "I am the Lord thy God, and thou shalt not have false gods before me." That God. (PAUSE)
MILLER: You're really God...
THE LORD: (philosophically) Yeah.
MILLER: You don't sound like God.
THE LORD: So what's God s'posed to sound like?
MILLER: Well, you know, big, important, everlasting... like that...
THE LORD: Well, after all we're talking on the phone; this is my telephone technique.
MILLER: Yeah, but, well, I mean, well, like you don't even have a secretary?
THE LORD: I don't need one. In fact, between me and you, I don't even need a telephone.
MILLER: You mean you're talking... directly... I mean... well, into the wire?
THE LORD: No, silly. I can talk directly TO you if I want, but these days people are less likely to be impressed by that kind of stuff, it's a little corny.
MILLER: I can dig it.
THE LORD: So I've decided to call people individually on the phone. People just live too close to one another to have it any other way.
MILLER: Yeah, right.
THE LORD: And all that burning bush stuff, hey, any two-bit magician can come up with that, along with pulling rabbits out of hats and cards out of sleeves.
MILLER: True.
THE LORD: And you burn a bush, it's air pollution already.
MILLER: Amen.
THE LORD: I just realized one day that it was about time I began getting my thing up to date too. So I switched to the telephone, and I find it's working rather well.
MILLER: Wow!
THE LORD: Well, yeah, you know.
MILLER: How come you're calling me? 'Cause...
THE LORD: Oh, I'm calling everyone, and it's your turn.
MILLER: My turn? (suspiciously) my turn to what?
THE LORD: (VOLUME GOES UP GRADUALLY ENDING WITH LOTS OF ECHO) To tell me how you're behaving today! (NORMAL VOICE) There, does that sound more God-like?
MILLER: No, that sounds like...
THE LORD: Well, I can be devlish too, when things get slow.
MILLER: Are they slow now?
THE LORD: No, but they were beginning to dip there a little. You should listen to people tell you all day how good they've been.
MILLER: Sometimes I do.
THE LORD: Yeah, even the bad ones. They've got a good explanation for everything. They say "Now waitaminute Lord, I know what you're thinking, but I can explain it all if you just give me a minute.
MILLER: Same old...
THE LORD: Then they launch into a long explanation giving all the why's and wherefores.
MILLER: You know, I was kind of thinking that way myself.
THE LORD: I know.
MILLER: Oh, yeah, you do, don't you (a little laugh).
THE LORD: (tired) Yes, I know what you're all thinking, even the big ones. Bush, Cheyney, Saddam, Osama, Hitler, Nixon...
MILLER: Oh yeah, tell me...
THE LORD: Sorry, no tales.
MILLER: What did Nixon say?
THE LORD: Well, it wouldn't be right to tell you all of it, but, he started off by saying "Now Mister God, I want to make one thing perfectly clear..." How's that? My Nixon's pretty good, huh? I can do Martin Luther King too: "I have a dream..." Wanna hear my Tony Blair?
MILLER: Now waitaminute. Who is this? Who do you think you are imitating Dr. King? President Nixon?
THE LORD: Well why not? Nixon imitated me.
MILLER: Seriously now, are you REALLY God?
THE LORD: I wish I could prove it to you in some way, but I gave up on that stuff years ago. Everyone heard about Moses and all the rest, and I had to do a miracle every time, like right in the living room and all. It just got to be a drag. So I stopped miracles altogether. Except for one.
MILLER: (eagerly) What's that.
THE LORD: I turn up the volume so it rattles your eardrums. Would you like that.
MILLER: No, I'll take your word.
THE LORD: Now, instead of you telling me about how good you've been and all, I want to discuss with you an idea I have.
MILLER: An idea?
THE LORD: Yeah, about this Messiah Project they're doing on Argon.
MILLER: You know about that?
THE LORD: Sweetheart (Cher, Dawg), I KNOW about everything...
MILLER: (resigned) Yeah, I guess you do.
THE LORD: But we won't go into your private stuff, because I want to lay something out for you regarding the Messiah Project, and I want you to implement it for me.
MILLER: OK, sure.
THE LORD: I figure as long as they're doing this project, It might as well be more than just a little scientific joke they're playing on the Argonians. Maybe we can do some good with it, come up with something new and acceptable, a new direction if you will.
MILLER: Oh, I will, if you say so, God. May I call you God?
THE LORD: What else?
MILLER: Thanks.
THE LORD: Good. Now here's what I have in mind...
LIGHTS FADE
SCENE 9 (Lights come up on LEWIS who is talking on the phone)
LEWIS: Come ON. You're kidding me. Who ARE you?
THE LORD: I told you. Okay. "I am who am!" That better?
LEWIS: Thats...
THE LORD: Okay. Let's do it this way. SUPPOSE I'm God. Just suppose. And I'm talking to you. Just as an exercise in, oh, plausibility. Or in morality.
LEWIS: Morality!?
THE LORD: Sure. You must agree that the world, at least some parts of it, could use a little morality.
LEWIS: More than a little.
THE LORD: In some cases, yeah. And YOU are the lucky one I, supposing I'm God, have chosen, like Moses, or Muhammad or any number of prophets, to straighten things out.
LEWIS: Yeah...
THE LORD: Would that be such a bad job?
LEWIS: Look what happened to Jesus Christ.
THE LORD: Take it a step further - Suppose I'm NOT God, and came to you out of the blue.
LEWIS: Over the phone.
THE LORD: Over the phone - To suggest you might just be capable of changing things.
LEWIS: Capable.
THE LORD: Capable. Not willing. Not yet anyway. Could you believe in yourself enough to do it?
LEWIS: Could anyone? A fantasy at least.
THE LORD: Right. So what you need is the faith of God, Oh sure, faith IN God, but the faith of God in you to bolster your belief, turn it into action.
LEWIS: What kind of action?
THE LORD: That I'd leave up to you. It has to come from you. People won't believe that burning bush or tablets-on-the-mountain stuff today. They've heard about the Big Bang - The traditional dieties have been exposed for what they are.
LEWIS: And what are they?
THE LORD: Icons. Images. What man has created God to be, in man's clothes. But they still believe in leadership. In heroism.
LEWIS: Me a hero? (Laughs)
THE LORD: Yep. Heroism. You as hero has yet to be demonstrated. That's what we're discussing here, whether you're willing. I think you're capable, and after all, I'm God - supposing - and I have faith in you.
LEWIS: You do?
THE LORD: Duh! Why would I be talking to you if I didn't?
LEWIS: So where do we go from here?
THE LORD: You agree then.
LEWIS: Suppose I do, as long as we're supposing.
THE LORD: Alright then. This project on Algon, this experiment in Messiah-ism. This could be a whole lot more than just a cruel joke on these primitives proving we're better and smarter than they are - indeed better and smarter than what WE were a couple thousand years ago.
LEWIS: We've had two thousand years of experience, science, yes religion to get to where we are.
THE LORD: Right. So now we go a step - a leap - forward. And what that leap is to be...
LEWIS: Yeah, what's it to be?
THE LORD: ...is up to you.
LEWIS: Up to me. I've got to come up with...
THE LORD: It's your ball. In your court. You're up to bat.
LEWIS: But...
THE LORD: Oops. Call waiting. One I've been expecting. Hold on.
LEWIS: But wait...
THE LORD: Okay, I'm back.
LEWIS: Do we have to keep talking like this?
THE LORD: Like what?
LEWIS: Over the phone, and
THE LORD: What would you prefer, Lunch at Sardi's?
LEWIS: No, but, well, you're GOD. Couldn't you ah, come down, like be a real person?
THE LORD: Oh, I get it. You're still thinking of me as a great being - creator of heaven and earth and all that.
LEWIS: Well, I...
THE LORD: The spirit in the sky.
LEWIS: Well, I guess so, Kind of old-fashioned, eh?
THE LORD: Old TESTAMENT.
LEWIS: Mmm hmmm.
THE LORD: No, my son (ahem), it's not really that way.
LEWIS: Tell me how it is, please.
THE LORD: It's like your St. Augustine said: I'm as a circle, with its center everywhere, its circumference nowhere.
LEWIS: Where do you come from? Heaven?
THE LORD: I come from nowhere. I am everywhere. In Heaven too, if that satisfies you.
LEWIS: You mean you're...
THE LORD: Ubiquitous.
LEWIS: Ubiquitous?
THE LORD: Yew-bick-quit-tuss. Everywhere. But especially...
LEWIS: On the phone.
THE LORD: That too. But especially within you.
LEWIS: Within me. In my - soul.
THE LORD: You got it.
LEWIS: You mean - I'm really talking to myself here.
THE LORD: In a manner of speaking. Not really though.
LEWIS: Then who?
THE LORD: You're talking to your ideal. To who you might be. If you wanted to. If you would.
LEWIS: This is NOT as easy as talking to a real person - even a divine, ah being. I'd really prefer it if we could meet face to face.
THE LORD: Only in your imagination. In your dreams!
(Lights Fade)
SCENE 10 - In LEWIS' Imagination. Mysterious lighting, vapors, perhaps a scrim. Lewis is tied up in a chair. God has taken on the appearance of a beautiful woman, dressed in black leather, spike heels, the S&M number. She cracks a whip. She speaks in a male voice (moving her lips as the voice comes over the P.A. System)
THE LORD: "I am the Lord thy God. Thou shalt not have false gods before me." How's that?
LEWIS: You mean YOU'RE...
THE LORD: You guessed 'er Chester. The God of your imagination.
LEWIS: This is like a dream then.
THE LORD: You might call it that. Or you might just say it's just SOMEWHERE. If, as many correctly assume "God is everywhere" like it says in the catechism.
LEWIS: Somewhere.
THE LORD: Right. Somewhere, anywhere, but here and now.
LEWIS: This is all too...
THE LORD: Amen, it is all too TOO. But enough idle chitchat. Let's get down to business (cracks whip, Lewis jumps, startled)
LEWIS: Business.
THE LORD: The business of how you, as one of the captains of this Algon project, are going to turn it into something meaningful, not just a pointless prank.
LEWIS: But it isn't pointless; it would prove that the original Messiah could have been just another trick foisted on us by another planet that was years ahead of US.
THE LORD: But we - you and I - know that's not so, don't we? (Cracks whip, Lewis starts)
LEWIS: Mmm hmm. (grimacing)
THE LORD: Here we are, in your imagination. So how do we make this new project mean something - to them - Algonites - and maybe even to us?
LEWIS: Got any ideas?
THE LORD: The ideas will be yours. Because I only exist in you. I don't do ideas, or public appearances, not even cameos.
LEWIS: Give me a start.
THE LORD: This is a start.
LEWIS: This?
THE LORD: Our little tete-a-tete. (Cracks whip) - See what I mean, jelly bean?
LEWIS: I'll have to think about it.
THE LORD: Yes, you will. And surely you'll come up with something.
LEWIS: I will? I mean "I SHALL!"
THE LORD: I have faith in you. Really.
(Lights Fad
SCENE 11 - At the conference table, or At the kitchen table over drinks Three parties discussing The Project
LEWIS: So what would you come up with?
DOYLE: You say a religion...
LEWIS: Well, not a whole religion out of whole cloth. Just, say, PART of a religion. Something that isn't already covered, but that would be, ah, universal.
HAYES: Like another commandment.
DOYLE: "Mind your own business."
HAYES: That goes without saying.
LEWIS: Right, so it's got to be something that needs saying, today.
DOYLE: Ummmm.
HAYES: Share the TV remote.
LEWIS: That's good.
DOYLE: (sarcastic) That'll go down well in Rwanda.
HAYES: Yeah, the Tootsies giving TV control to the...
LEWIS: Waitaminute though...
DOYLE: The Hootoos.
HAYES: Who to?
DOYLE: The Hootoos - in Rwanda.
HAYES: Sure, instead of cutting off their heads, they let 'em change the channel.
LEWIS: That's it!
HAYES: That's what?
LEWIS: Share.
DOYLE: What's she got to do with it?
LEWIS: No, I mean share. don't hog up everything.
HAYES: Like the TV remote.
DOYLE: Get offa that, Hayes, that's just your personal gripe.
LEWIS: But sharing is universal, and needs saying.
DOYLE: Needs refining. You can't tell people to give away...
LEWIS: No, not give away. And not necessarily on a personal level, but as a general rule. In a communal style. Just as a concept.
HAYES: Communal equals Communistic.
LEWIS: Just because Communism failed on a national level doesn't mean all its concepts were bad.
HAYES: True, but...
LEWIS: I mean, even Hitler had some good programs.
DOYLE: Like what?
LEWIS: He built roads, gave the Volkswagen a push.
HAYES: A nut with a saving grace.
LEWIS: But the concept of Sharing...
DOYLE: Sharing.
LEWIS: Yeah, as a general rule. A positive statement. Not "Thou shalt not hoard; but 'Share' - something everyone on the planet can relate to.
DOYLE: Especially the sharee's.
LEWIS: Us too. As the sharers, we can feel good too.
HAYES: OK, hammer that into the stone tablets, Moe.
DOYLE: "Oh, a wiseguy, eh?" (figuratively bops M, Moe style).
LEWIS: Share (thinks). But let's think on a broader scale. Sharing is a nice concept, but not really a foundational concept, a credo item. After all, what would we have us BELIEVE in as a basic tenet? I've been, ah, exposed to one I'd like to propose.
HAYES: Oh?
LEWIS: It's gonna sound like it comes from a belief in "God" but really it's deeper than that. A lot of people don't believe in "God," yet a lot do. What divine concept could be acceptable to both?
DOYLE: I'm all ears.
LEWIS: The idea of a Holy Spirit.
HAYES: The Holy Spirit. You mean like the Holy Ghost.
LEWIS: Well, yes, but more like any spirit. We all had "school spirit" in school, there was " The Spirit of '76," like that, a sort of "General Spirit" that's not so all-fired creational. A spirit that everyone can relate to. A Holy Spirit in everyone.
DOYLE: But where...?
LEWIS: Right here, right now.
HAYES: Here? Now?
LEWIS: Everywhere. Like the nature of God, but not "God" Himself, as such. Not this great divine ideal being, but the great divine ideal. The spirit of the ideal.
DOYLE: Right here in this room.
HAYES: In this room.
LEWIS: In our hearts and minds. Think. Where do ideas, thoughts, musings come from?
HAYES: From our minds.
LEWIS: Yeah, but before that. Not just out of thin air. From our spirits. But before that from some external source, some outside conception, which might very well be a... The...Holy Spirit. LIKE God, but more down-to-earth.
DOYLE: Here, everywhere.
LEWIS: But especially.
HAYES: Especially where:
LEWIS: In you. In us. In one. In one's mind. That's the credo concept. The Holy Spirit in You. Couldn't you believe in that?
DOYLE: it's more plausible than God Creator of heaven and earth and all the planets and solar systems.
LEWIS: Try it out, let's say it...
HAYES: Oh, come now.
LEWIS: No, I mean it - just as a trial. See if it fits, like trying on a suit of a dress. All together now, "I believe in..."
ALL: I believe in...
LEWIS: That's right. "I believe in The Holy Spirit..."
ALL: I believe in The Holy Spirit.
LEWIS: Then "I believe in The Holy Spirit IN ME."
ALL: I believe in The Holy Spirit IN ME!
LEWIS: Where.
ALL: I believe in The Holy Spirit IN ME!
LEWIS: Where?
ALL: IN ME!!!
Blackout. End of Scene.
SCENE 12 Office Interview
HARKINS: Good afternoon.
PICKENS: Good afternoon.
HARKINS: As you read in the ad, we're looking for someone to father a child artificially, by sperm donation. But this will be a very special child you see, as it will not be born here on Earth, but on the planet Algon.
PICKENS: On Algon...
HARKINS: Yes, this is a rather, experimental project... But before we go any farther, I see that you have listed that you are a homosexual.
PICKENS: Yes. Why, is that a problem?
HARKINS: Well, aside from the HIV question, there may be other hereditarial factors.
PICKENS: Well, you've obviously would have me checked for HIV before you accepted my sperm, I mean, if I were to be acceptable on other criterial levels.
HARKINS: Well, you see it might be those other levels on which we would have concern.
PICKENS: You mean intellectual, emotional, psychiatric...
HARKINS: Those too, but genetic mainly.
PICKENS: Genetic. But you wouldn't be talking to me if I were not close physically to a perfect specimen. Just look at me, I'm fit, you might even say buff.
HARKINS: True.
PICKENS: Good enough looking to make my living as a model.
HARKINS: Undeniably close to a physical ideal. But, the homosexual factor has me concerned.
PICKENS: I don't see where that should make any difference to my sperm, as long as the fecundity level is high.
HARKINS: Well waitaminute here. Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I've always believed that lifestyles were a choice.
PICKENS: The current thinking goes more along the lines of what's called an "orientation."
HARKINS: And what you're saying is that in you, this "orientation" is toward homosexuality.
PICKENS: Yes. I realized when I was very young that I'm gay, and I've never made a secret of it. Proud to be, actually.
HARKINS: That's what has me concerned.
PICKENS: That I'm proud to be?
HARKINS: No, rather that you believe yourself "oriented" to be, with no consideration of the element of choice.
PICKENS: What do you mean?
HARKINS: What you're saying is that essentially you were born gay. That you really didn't have a choice, that your orientation is inborn.
PICKENS: You're saying you think that would affect my sperm?
HARKINS: No, you're saying that. That it would affect your sperm.
PICKENS: I'm saying that? How so?
HARKINS: You're saying that, basically, you were born gay, that you were a homosexual by orientation, not by choice.
PICKENS: I didn't say I thought I was born gay, but that ever since I can remember, my interests lay in members of my own sex, and when those interests became physical...
HARKINS: Around puberty...
PICKENS: Yes, around puberty, when I first began to think of myself as a sexual, ah, unit, my interest lay in males, not females.
HARKINS: Exclusively?
PICKENS: Well... I did all the normal hetero things in school. You know, dates for the prom, kissing, petting, but I found little interest with girls, more with boys, and realized that I am a gay person, no doubt about it.
HARKINS: And you believe this was an, oh, inborn orientation, not a choice.
PICKENS: Yes, and that is the general belief now, among the gay community, the medical community, the government, everyone.
HARKINS: That's what I'm getting at, don't you see. What you're saying is that you have a genetic predisposition toward your orientation, that you were pre-oriented, so to speak.
PICKENS: I suppose so. But why would that affect my ability to render a sperm donation?
HARKINS: As I said in the beginning, this is a very special project, and we want the product, that is, the child produced, a male child, to be as close to the ideal as possible.
PICKENS: And that ideal can't have a chance of being a homosexual.
HARKINS: Not to our way of thinking.
PICKENS: Why not?
HARKINS: I'd rather not go into it, but think of it this way: Would you want, oh, Tarzan to be gay? Or Superman? Or Jesus? No, a sexual "orientation" of this kind would only get in the way.
PICKENS: In the way of what?
HARKINS: The project, the mission.
PICKENS: The mission? The mission? And what would that be?
HARKINS: I don't really want to go into it, but suffice it to say it's on the level of saving the world.
PICKENS: Grandiose, one might say.
HARKINS: Indeed. So I really don't think we want to introduce the chance, where we're dealing with a primitive societal element, that inborn sexual orientation would be a turnoff to the objects of the mission.
PICKENS: (Almost laughing) And you think my homosexuality might be transmitted through my sperm.
HARKINS: Myself I don't believe in all this "orientation" stuff. I think it's a choice you make and that's it. I believe we all are naturally oriented, sexually, toward members of the opposite sex, and at some point the idea of homosexual relations is introduced, whereupon we each make a choice.
PICKENS: In that case, why would my donation be that different from anyone else's?
HARKINS: It wouldn't, I don't think. But there are others who think it would contaminate the desired result, and that the possibility of homosexual orientation would get in the way of the, as I said, the mission.
PICKENS: But who's to say that sexual orientation would be relevant anyway? It might be better for the end result, the person produced, to be gay.
HARKINS: That may very well be true, but this is the first project of this kind for us, and we want it to be as close to what we consider to be normal as possible.
PICKENS: Normal. And homosexuality isn't normal.
HARKINS: Not to our collective way of thinking.
PICKENS: Well, I'm sorry to hear that.
HARKINS: It's just the way things are now. Maybe some future project...
PICKENS: (cynically) Who knows?
HARKINS: But thanks for coming in anyway.
(They shake hands. Pickens exits. Harkins goes to his paperwork)
HARKINS: (pushing intercom) Send in the next interviewee please.
Fade lights. End of scene 12.
SCENE 13 Algon (...continued)
LOREI: Waitaminute, waitaminute, here she comes. Okay, I'm on. (Goes off to meet Virginia) "Hey, ah, greetings, uh, hold it, hold it." (pause) "Who am I? I'm a special angel, and I'm here to tellya..."
VIRGINIA: An angel? What's an angel?
LOREI: I'm from, from ah, the great beyond - I mean Heaven.
VIRGINIA: Heaven? What's that?
LOREI: It's, ah, it's... well, it's where you go when you die.
VIRGINIA: When I die...
LOREI: If you're good.
VIRGINIA: Good.
LOREI: I mean, if you don't commit any ah, sins.
VIRGINIA: What are sins?
LOREI: Things you do that might hurt other people, or yourself, or God.
VIRGINIA: God.
LOREI: God, who created everything.
VIRGINIA: Everything?
LOREI: Yes, God created Heaven where He is, and Earth (quickly correcting) I mean Algon, all the creatures and the people. Everything.
VIRGINIA: Created it all?
LOREI: From nothing. All in six days. Then on the seventh day, God rested.
VIRGINIA: I should think so. So you come from... Heaven?
LOREI: Yes, where God is. I was sent...
VIRGINIA: Did God send you?
LOREI: (Trying not to lie) Well, in a way, yes, I was sent here on a particular mission, to, to, to...
VIRGINIA: To what?
LOREI: Well, to let you know you're going to be the mother of...
VIRGINIA: I'm going to be a mother, but I am a virgin. How can I be a mother?
LOREI: That will be taken care of by, uh, God will provide.
VIRGINIA: God will provide... the, the, the father.
LOREI: God will provide the means.
VIRGINIA: The means to what?
LOREI: The means to conceive.
VIRGINIA: But if I'm a virgin, how...
LOREI: Not to worry. All will be taken care of, and you will be the mother of the Savior.
VIRGINIA: Savior of what?
LOREI: The Savior of your species, your people, from uh, original sin.
VIRGINIA: We did something bad?
LOREI: Well, it's a long story, and one day I'll explain it all to you, when we have more time. But for now, just be glad that you, out of all the women on Algon, are the chosen one.
VIRGINIA: Chosen
LOREI: By uh, God. To be the bearer of God's child, the Savior of all Algonians.
VIRGINIA: I'm going to bear a child. But with no husband, no man to help me...
LOREI: Not exactly. We'll find you a mate, and I'll speak to him too, and explain that you're going to be pregnant, by God's spirit...
VIRGINIA: God's spirit. I don't know about this. I don't feel too good about it.
LOREI: Not a problem. You won't feel a thing, and suddenly inside will be a little baby.
VIRGINIA: But what will people think?
LOREI: They'll realize that you are blessed and a special one chosen for a very special task.
VIRGINIA: Well... Anyway, you say I won't have to become pregnant by the, ah, normal way, with a man, and doing, uh, the act, and...
LOREI: Right. All that will be taken care of.
VIRGINIA: Well, that's a relief. I didn't much fancy doing the act with some big hairy creature...
LOREI: Nothing to worry about. This will be as clean and pure as...
VIRGINIA: It isn't that. It's just that, well, I just don't seem to, well, to get along in that way with uh, men.
LOREI: What do you mean?
VIRGINIA: I mean, that... I like men, and I have many friends who are men, but when it comes to, you know, being with a man in the altogether, and doing the things that babies come from. Don't get me wrong, I want to have babies, but...
LOREI: But not with a father?
VIRGINIA: I want my babies to have a father, but I don't want to do the baby making act with a man. If only... (pause)
LOREI: If only what?
VIRGINIA: If only women could make babies with women.
LOREI: But...
VIRGINIA: Then we wouldn't have to...
LOREI: Have sex...
VIRGINIA: Have sex. Alright. We wouldn't have to have sex.
LOREI: But having sex is, it's fun actually, it feels good, it's pleasure. And you make babies. Not that in this mission, you're going to have to, by the normal ways.
VIRGINIA: Well, that's what I mean, really. I don't think I'm built to enjoy - what do you call it - having sex, with a man. I'm really more ah...
LOREI: "Oriented," we call it. You're more oriented...
VIRGINIA: I'm more "oriented" to enjoy myself with another woman.
LOREI: ...Uh-oh. (pause) WELL, this is only the beginning, and I think we want to talk this over some more, so, I've gotta go now, but I'll be back in, say a few days, and we'll talk more.
VIRGINIA: But your idea does sound interesting, and it's something that really fits how I feel, so I think it might be what I'm looking for. I want to talk to my cousin Angelica. She's the one who would be with me if we were to raise a child.
LOREI: The two of you. No father.
VIRGINIA: Not living with us. We want to live together. Without men.
LOREI: Oh-kaaaaay. Let's think some more about this. (Lorei leaves Virginia sitting on a rock, and fades into the tall grass, in the direction of the space module). I'll be seeing you.
VIRGINIA: Bye. Say hello to uh, God...
LOREI: Yeah, right. Bye.
Lights Fade. End of Scene
SCENE 14: Moskot and Lorei walk toward space module
MOSKOT: Well? How'd it go?
LOREI: You're not gonna believe this...
MOSKOT: Not gonna believe what?
LOREI: So I went up to her and said...
Fade lights. Curtain.
by Henry Francisco
Three Plays by Brian Henry:
ROPE BURNS, THE LATHERED HINDS, and EXPEDIENCY
ROPE BURNS
By Brian Henry
© 2-20-12
Contact: bigbronin@yahoo.com (917)-756-9407
CHARACTERS:
Bess Landerson, an un-ostentations southern woman of means, gracefully forty. She wears a beautiful yellow suit,pillbox hat, and white gloves. Julius “Inchy” Jones, a forty-seven year old African-American garbage collector. He has a large lumbering
frame, with a soft but muscular build. He is bleeding from the head and mouth. His crisp shirt and brilliant tie, which gleam out from under his Sunday suit and fedora, are torn and spattered.
Cleet, a real good ol’ boy.
PLACE:
Memphis, Tennessee. A simple, but graciously appointed ladies’ rest room in a downtown hotel. At left, there is a door with a latch. Inside the door, left of center, is a
lounge area with a vanity, plush chairs, and a small sofa. Along the back wall, stage right, there are three stalls. Down right, a sink.
TIME: April fifth, 1968, late afternoon. 3
ROPE BURNS
(At rise, canned music plays a soulless version of “Tutti Frutti”. BESS enters in a panic, unsteadily closing the door, and turning the latch on the lock. SHE moves to the vanity, sits, and stares into the mirror.
BESS: Dear God, what is happening?
(SHE rummages through her purse,
pulls out a bottle of pills, and
takes one. Pause. A plate glass
window shatters just outside the
door. The sounds of a howling
mob, mid-riot, rush in. The music
cuts out. There are more crashes,
sirens howling, dogs barking.
Chants of “Black Power” rise up,
then a gunshot, screaming, and
more gunshots. BESS gathers her
things and retreats into one of
the stalls, pulling her feet up,
unseen. The noise reaches a
crescendo, then recedes gradually
to a distant murmur, popping up
only occasionally. After a tense
pause, BESS’s feet reappear. SHE
takes a furtive glance outside the
stall. Satisfied, SHE moves
tactically to the door, unlocks
it, and has a peek)
CLEET:
(A good ways off)
There goes one of ‘em!
(BESS quickly locks HERSELF in
again, as a minor commotion rises
again nearby. With nothing else
to do, SHE moves back to the
vanity, collapsing into the chair.
Long pause. Unseen by BESS,
INCHY’s feet slip down and appear
in one of the other stalls.
Pause. INCHY stands inside his
4
stall, lifts the lid, and orients
himself toward the fixture. BESS
freezes in terror, realizing SHE’s
not alone)
INCHY:
(Inside the stall)
Come on, old boy, don’t you let me down.
(The sound of relief)
Oh, yeah.
(BESS, moving as quietly as SHE
can, sneaks into her stall again,
feet up. INCHY finishes his
business. The toilet flushes.
INCHY comes out of the stall, and
moves to the door. HE turns the
latch a couple of times, then
looks back into the bathroom. One
by one, HE checks the stalls,
ending on the one BESS is hiding
in)
BESS:
Huh!
INCHY:
Oh, God.
(THEY stare at one another for a
long moment, afraid to move)
BESS:
I…
INCHY:
Shhhhh.
BESS:
Please…
INCHY:
What?
BESS:
Please, just…
(Offers her purse)
INCHY:
Your…?
5
BESS:
Please, I…
INCHY:
Your purse?!
BESS:
I have-
INCHY:
I don’t want your purse.
BESS:
What…what do you-
INCHY:
Shhhh!
BESS:
You’re not going to-
INCHY:
(Advancing on HER)
Shut your mouth!
BESS:
No, please-
INCHY:
Shut it.
BESS:
Aaaaaah-
INCHY:
(Grabs HER, covering her mouth)
Shhhhh!!!
(THEY stand frozen. Pause)
Look, lady, I don’t know what you think is going on here,
but I don’t want nothin’ from you, you dig? Nothin’. Just
to be quiet.
(Pause)
Now, I’m gonna let you go, but I’m warnin’ you, you make
even a peep, the whole state of Tennessee won’t be able to
save you. Alright?
(SHE nods “yes”. HE lets HER go)
6
BESS:
Take your… What kind of man…
INCHY:
I’m a black man, lady. Boogity-boogity-boo!
BESS:
What in the Lord does that mean?
INCHY:
I don’t know. Figure it out.
BESS:
What are you doing in here?
INCHY:
You been outside?
BESS:
What did you do?
INCHY:
What did I do? What did I do?! Ain’t you payin’ attention,
lady? Can’t you see what’s happenin’? There ain’t a black
man in the God’s good south what needs a reason to get
himself strung up today. What did I do?!
BESS:
Yes, alright.
INCHY:
What did I do?
BESS:
Alright, I’m sorry.
INCHY:
Yeah, you’re sorry now.
BESS:
I am.
INCHY:
What did I… What did you do?
BESS:
Me? I didn’t do anything.
7
INCHY:
Yeah, that’s right. Nothin’. Nice folks don’t never do
nothin’. Nice ladies like you, Christian ladies, see
everything, and don’t do nothin’.
BESS:
What do you want with me?
INCHY:
I don’t know what I want…yet.
BESS:
Oh, dear God, what is happening?
INCHY:
The chickens are coming home, only they got no heads.
(Pause)
BESS:
Please, let me go.
INCHY:
No.
BESS:
Please. I can only cause trouble for you here.
INCHY:
No, no, no!
BESS:
I won’t say anything.
INCHY:
You ain’t goin’ anywhere.
BESS:
Good heavens, I’m not even from here.
INCHY:
Sure. You got nothin’ to do with it, do you?
BESS:
No.
INCHY:
That sounds about right.
8
BESS:
You don’t know anything about-
INCHY:
Save it, sister. Sit down.
BESS:
Bess. Save it, Bess. Sit down, Bess. My name is Bess,
mister…?
INCHY:
Just call me mister.
BESS:
Oh, yes, of course, mister.
(Sits at the mirror. INCHY heads
for the door, listens)
Mister, what are you-
INCHY:
Listen, lady, ma’am, I got no ambition on hurting you,
alright? None at all. I don’t want to hurt no one. I’m
just trying to make it home past the poplar trees, with my
neck un-stretched. So, we’re gonna play it nice and easy.
We’re gonna sit here, and wait it out. We’ll wait till the
mob dies down, moves on, sparks up somewheres else, and
this whole mess just goes away.
BESS:
Mister, this mess isn’t going away, not now, not today.
INCHY:
It’s got to.
BESS:
Let me help you.
INCHY:
What?
BESS:
You’ll never get out of here without my help. Let me help
you.
INCHY:
Well, ain’t that nice? Before, it was all, let me run, let
me run, let me run. Now, the nice white lady wants to come
to the rescue of the big, bad, boogity black man.
9
BESS:
I can help you. Or not.
INCHY:
Well, now, you listen to me, and listen right good. I may
have no ambitions on it, but if it’s goin’ down, and it’s
either you or me, I don’t want you having no illusions. It
ain’t gonna be me. You dig?
BESS:
I understand.
INCHY:
Well, alright then.
(Pause)
BESS:
What sort of a man are you?
INCHY:
Excuse me:
BESS:
Well, you say I’m a nice lady, a nice Christian lady. If
that’s the sort of white lady I am, what sort of black man
are you?
INCHY:
Sister, I don’t know you from Judas.
BESS:
No, you don’t. And I don’t know you, but I can see you’re
far from being the big, bad, boogety black man you’re
pretending to be.
INCHY:
Oh, really.
(HE rushes over, raising his hand
as if to strike HER. SHE braces
HERSELF, but HE stops short)
Where do you come off?
BESS:
Just being Christian.
INCHY:
Yeah, well, my other cheek already been slapped.
10
(Goes back to the door. BESS
pulls some makeup out of her
purse, and touches HERSELF up)
BESS:
Well. You mind if I…? There is simply no excuse for an
untidy appearance. It only takes a little effort to be
presentable. It all goes to character. You could use a
little attention yourself.
INCHY:
Where are you from?
BESS:
Savannah.
INCHY:
There ain’t no crackers in Savannah, I guess.
BESS:
Oh, sure, we’ve got more fool crackers than a box of
animals. But there are all kinds of crackers in that box.
We aren’t all against you.
INCHY:
But you ain’t exactly for me, neither.
BESS:
You really know nothing about me, do you?
INCHY:
Yeah. I suppose you’re right.
BESS:
Then we’re both equal on that score, aren’t we?
INCHY:
Some of us are a little more equal than others. Ain’t
there ever gonna be an end?
BESS:
I can’t believe they shot him. Such a stupid, stupid
waste. He was a great man. I mean, agree with him or not,
he was a great man. Did you ever march with him?
INCHY:
No.
11
BESS:
We were down in Selma, my husband and I.
INCHY:
You were in Selma?
BESS:
Yes.
INCHY:
With the good Reverend Doctor?
BESS:
Yes.
INCHY:
Were you marching, or throwing?
BESS:
Nice. The change is going to come. We went to help it
come to pass.
INCHY:
Oh, yeah, well sure, the whole world’s got to change.
Everything’s got to change. We all got to step down hard
on old Jim Crow’s neck, and strangle the life out of him,
right? Only, old Jim Crow, he got another idea. He got a
sore, chokin’ burnt red neck, so now he wants to rope mine
up just for spite. That the change you talkin’ about?
BESS:
This is not what we had in mind.
INCHY:
I wonder.
BESS:
Do you mind if I smoke?
INCHY:
It’s your funeral.
BESS:
Would you like one?
INCHY:
No. Thank you.
12
BESS:
Not at all.
(SHE lights up. Pause)
Stupid fools. Now, they’ve gone and made a martyr of him.
Now there’s-
INCHY:
Look, lady, ma’am-
BESS:
Bess.
INCHY:
Ma’am, I got no use for a discussion right now.
BESS:
Oh. I understand.
INCHY:
You don’t understand nothin’.
(Pause. BESS goes back to her
makeup. INCHY opens the door, and
has a look)
CLEET:
(Off, but closer now)
There go another one. C’mon. Bring them dogs.
(The sound of attack dogs rises
up. INCHY closes the door, locks
it, and slumps down)
BESS:
Mister, you look a proper mess. Why don’t you come over
here, and let me clean you up?
INCHY:
No, IBESS:
Come, now, let me do you a kindness. The door can hold
itself up.
INCHY:
I…
BESS:
Please. This is what a nice Christian lady does.
(INCHY comes over)
13
There. That’s it. Let’s have your jacket, and shirt.
(SHE takes the jacket off HIM,
setting it across a chair. HE
unbuttons his shirt)
No worse for wear, I suppose, but that shirt…
(HE hands shirt to HER, sits)
Well, we’ll see what we can do.
(Taking his hat off)
My what a nice clean cut you have. You must go to the
barber every week. Yes?
INCHY:
I s’pose.
BESS:
I s’pose, Missy Bess. All my best friends call me Missy
Bess.
INCHY:
I s’pose, ma’am.
(SHE begins cleaning wound)
Ow!
BESS:
Easy. Shh. That’s it. It’s not too bad. It doesn’t look
like you’ll need stitches. I don’t suppose you did
anything to get such a bloody mouth.
(THEY look at each other)
Well, I didn’t think so. You know, when I go to the beauty
shop, we talk about things. I’m sure it’s the same when
you go down to the barber, isn’t it?
(Pause)
Are you married? Do you have any children?
(Pause)
Now, my daughter, oh Lord, what a ray of sunshine. Let me
show you.
(Pulling a photo from her purse)
Sixteen years old, sixteen and a whole new world in front
of her. Look here, isn’t she just a darling?
(Hands photo to him)
I tell you, she’s going to be something in this world. She
wants to be a writer, a journalist. How about that? A
lady journalist. Lordy. My daddy would just turn in his
grave, but I’m proud of her. She’ll live in a bigger world
than the one I had. She can do anything, if this world can
only hold together. Do you have any daughters?
(Pause)
14
Erica. Erica Lynn Landerson. Please, think of Erica while
you’re sitting there. I can assure you, I want to make it
home to see her, as much as you want to see your home, too.
(Finishing up, SHE get’s HIM to
his feet)
There you are, just like new. Well, almost. You’re a very
handsome man.
(Pause)
I’m leaving now. I swear, I won’t tell a soul about you.
(Pause. SHE gathers her things)
Perhaps I could create a distraction.
(Pause)
My name is Bess Landerson. If you’re ever in Savannah,
look me up, and we’ll reminisce.
(Pause)
It has been my pleasure, Mister…
(SHE exits discreetly through the
door, leaving INCHY in a daze)
INCHY:
Julius. My name is Julius, Julius Jones, but everybody
calls me Inchy.
(HE pulls a pistol out from his
pocket, checks it)
Yeah, I got a daughter, Sissy. What a beautiful child she
was, innocent, kind, curious. Now, she’s fifteen, and
knows it all, goin’ to be a Black Panther is what she says.
Ain’t nothin’ but dyin’ down that road is what I tells her,
but these kids don’t listen no more. She calls me a Tom.
Ain’t that a bitch? Me, a Tom. Maybe she’s right.
(The riot rises up again, this
time just outside the door. HE
puts the gun to his head)
Ain’t there no place left in the world for a black man to
get along?
CLEET:
(Starts banging on the door.
Outside)
Alright, boy, we know you’re in there. Open up. C’mon
now.
(Continues, ad lib)
INCHY:
Dear Lord, what have you done?
(Lights fade slowly, as INCHY
takes cover in one of the stalls. The MOB, with CLEET out
front, howls furiously as THEY begin breaking down the
15
door. Lights reach black, just as the door is broken in.
A single gunshot rings out)
CLEET:
Look out. He’s got a gun.
(A barrage of gunshots ring out)
The End
THE LATHERED HINDS
By
Brian Henry
© 6-1-12
Contact:
bigbronin@yahoo.com
917-756-9407
CHARACTERS:
Jimmy Lunce, a 16-year-old African-American boy in a blue
hoodie and a Phillies cap. He carries a schoolbag.
Frank Benjamin, an 18-year-old African-American boy in a
dark blue hoodie and a Phillies cap.
Officer Krance, a 46-year-old white cop, an old-timer still
walking the beat.
Officer Washington, a 24-year-old African-American cop,
still a rookie.
PLACE:
New York City. A street in a predominantly African-
American neighborhood. A bench, down left. A stoop, down
right.
TIME:
May 15th, 2012, late afternoon.
THE LATHERED HINDS
(FRANK idles on the stoop. His
cell phone rings)
FRANK:
Yo, it’s Frankie. What up?...Hey, Boog, how you
doin’?...Yeah, where are you?
(HE looks off)
Sure, I got you. What you need?...Two fifties? You got
it...A’right, give me a minute, and I’ll meet you up the
hill...Cool.
(Hangs up. HE moves toward the
bench and sits down. JIMMY
enters, and observes FRANK as he
reaches under the bench, pulling
out a crumpled paper bag. FRANK
pulls out two plastic baggies. HE
crumples the bag back up, and
hides it under the bench again.
Noticing JIMMY)
What you lookin’ at?
JIMMY:
Nothin’.
FRANK:
That’s right. Hey, wait. I know you?
JIMMY:
Nah.
FRANK:
Yeah. A’ight. Nice hat.
JIMMY:
Thanks.
(Moves toward the stoop)
FRANK:
Yeah, I do. Wait a minute. You Jimmy, ain’t you?
JIMMY:
I know you?
FRANK:
It’s me, Frankie. Frankie Bens. I used to run with your
cousin, Wes.
JIMMY:
Wes? IFRANK:
Yeah. C’mon, man, don’t sweat it. I’s just sayin’ hi. I
can’t say hi?
JIMMY:
Sorry. Yeah, I remember you. Hi, Frankie.
FRANK:
What I’m a call you again?
JIMMY:
Jimmy.
FRANK:
Jimmy, right. My man, Jimmy. We’re cool, right? We all
friends.
JIMMY:
Yeah. We’re cool.
FRANK:
Hey, we all in it together, ain’t we? It’s all part of the
struggle. Up and out, any means necessary.
JIMMY:
Yeah, you got it.
FRANK:
Wha’s up with Wes, man? Wha’s he doin’?
JIMMY:
He’s dead.
FRANK:
What?
JIMMY:
Yeah.
FRANK:
Aw, man. I’m sorry.
JIMMY:
S’all part of the struggle.
FRANK:
Right. What you doin’ over here? Shun’t you be in a
library or somethin’?
JIMMY:
My sister. She got a tutor upstairs.
FRANK:
Tha’s what I’m sayin’. Yeah. You got to get that
education, man. It’s the only way.
JIMMY:
Right.
FRANK:
A’ight, Jimmy, I gotta bounce.
JIMMY:
A’ight. Later, Frankie.
FRANK:
Keep it smooth, man.
(Starts off right. Stops)
Hey, Jimmy, man, listen. Keep on doin’ it your own way. I
see you holdin’ me off arms length, and you right. You a
good kid. I ain’t even a nothin’. You keep them books
crackin’ you hear? Peace.
(Exits. JIMMY, lets down, and
exhales in relief. HE moves over
to the stoop, and sits, checks his
phone for the time, and pulls out
a book. KRANCE and WASHINGTON
enter. THEY spot JIMMY, and check
their note pads. After a moment
of consultation, THEY come over,
and stand on either side of HIM)
WASHINGTON:
Hey there, son.
(JIMMY doesn’t respond)
KRANCE:
Hey! Hello!
JIMMY:
Oh, hi.
WASHINGTON:
Do you mind if we talk to you a minute?
JIMMY:
Yes, sir. I mean, no. I mean-
WASHINGTON:
Relax, kid.
KRANCE:
Don’t be nervous.
WASHINGTON:
We just want to talk to you.
KRANCE:
You got nothing to be nervous about, right?
JIMMY:
No.
KRANCE:
So why are you fidgeting around?
WASHINGTON:
Just relax.
(Pulling out a pen and pad)
What’s your name?
JIMMY:
Uh...
KRANCE:
Come on, boy, give it up.
JIMMY:
It isn’t boy.
KRANCE:
Ooo, a live one.
(Smacks HIM on the head)
Don’t sass me boy. Just give up the name.
JIMMY:
It’s Jimmy.
WASHINGTON:
(Writing)
Jimmy what?
JIMMY:
Jimmy Lunce.
WASHINGTON:
Jimmy Lunce. And, uh, where are you from?
JIMMY:
Ninth Street.
KRANCE:
Ninth Street, what?
JIMMY:
Fifth Ave., by the Y.
WASHINGTON:
That’s the Slope, isn’t it?
JIMMY:
Kinda.
KRANCE:
Well, you’re a little ways from home, aren’t you?
(JIMMY shrugs)
WASHINGTON:
What are you reading there?
(JIMMY holds up the book)
“Slaughterhouse Five”, what’s that, some kinda meatpacking
book?
KRANCE:
(Taking the book)
You some kinda meatpacker, boy? You like to pack meat?
JIMMY:
No.
WASHINGTON:
Take it easy, kid. We’re just bustin’ your chops.
(KRANCE tosses WASHINGTON the
book. Leafing through it)
Can I? What’s it about?
JIMMY:
It’s about a guy who gets unstuck in time.
KRANCE:
Unstuck in time?!
WASHINGTON:
Crazy.
KRANCE:
Sounds like some kind of drug thing.
WASHINGTON:
Is that it? He’s on some kind of a drug trip?
JIMMY:
(Shrugs)
Read it.
WASHINGTON:
(The COPS share a look. Handing
the book back)
Maybe I will. You have any warrants?
JIMMY:
Warrants?
WASHINGTON:
You don’t know what a warrant is?
KRANCE:
Sure, he knows.
WASHINGTON:
You think?
KRANCE:
Come on, boy, don’t play stupid. How many you got?
JIMMY:
None.
WASHINGTON:
No warrants?
JIMMY:
No.
KRANCE:
Well, you don’t mind if we check, do you.
WASHINGTON:
Do you have an ID?
JIMMY:
(Reaching for his schoolbag)
Yeah.
KRANCE:
(Reaching for his gun)
Easy there, boy.
(JIMMY hands WASHINGTON a school
ID)
WASHINGTON:
Stuyvesant? You go to Stuyvesant?
(Passes card to KRANCE)
KRANCE:
Isn’t that supposed to be for smart kids?
WASHINGTON:
Supposed to be.
KRANCE:
So why’s he acting so stupid.
WASHINGTON:
I don’t know. What are you a senior?
JIMMY:
Junior.
WASHINGTON:
That makes you what, eighteen.
JIMMY:
Sixteen.
WASHINGTON:
Isn’t that a little young?
(JIMMY shrugs)
Alright, Jimmy, what are you doing here?
JIMMY:
Reading a book.
(The COPS laugh)
KRANCE:
He’s crackin’ wise!
WASHINGTON:
He’s a wise cracker!
KRANCE:
No, he ain’t no kind of cracker. You ain’t a cracker, are
you, boy?
JIMMY:
No.
KRANCE:
I didn’t think so.
WASHINGTON:
(Nods to KRANCE. KRANCE steps off
a bit, and calls in the ID)
Relax, Jimmy, it’ll just be a minute. Whoo! Man, I got to
take a load off.
(Puts his hand on JIMMY’s shoulder
as he sits, sliding it down
surreptitiously down the BOY’s
back, checking for weapons)
JIMMY:
Please! Don’t touch me.
WASHINGTON:
Alright. Alright. Look, Jimmy, let me talk to you for a
second, straight up. Can I do that?
JIMMY:
Okay.
WASHINGTON:
Why are you mouthing off like that? It just makes you look
guilty.
JIMMY:
Why am I guilty? I’m just reading a book.
WASHINGTON:
Yeah, but, here? Why not on your own stoop, in front of
your own house? You see what I’m saying?
JIMMY:
They got some law against reading in Crown Heights?
WASHINGTON:
Not reading. Can’t you tell me why you’re here?
JIMMY:
I’m waiting for someone.
WASHINGTON:
Ah, okay. Who?
JIMMY:
Do I have to tell you?
WASHINGTON:
Well, no. But, you gotta see, it makes you look
suspicious.
JIMMY:
Why?
WASHINGTON:
It just does. I mean, we’ve had reports you’ve been
selling dope out here.
JIMMY:
What?! I’m not selling dope.
WASHINGTON:
Good, so prove it.
JIMMY:
How?
WASHINGTON:
Who are you waiting for?
JIMMY:
My little sister.
WASHINGTON:
Your sister?
JIMMY:
Yeah. She’s got a tutor.
WASHINGTON:
Oh, good.
(KRANCE nods to WASHINGTON)
Alright, wait here. I’m going to talk with my partner. If
everything checks out-
JIMMY:
You’ll let me go?
WASHINGTON:
We’re not holding you.
JIMMY:
So I could go now?
WASHINGTON:
I thought you were waiting for your sister.
JIMMY:
I got fifteen minutes. Maybe I’ll get some Twizzlers and a
iced tea.
WASHINGTON:
Now, there’s that mouth again. You need to keep that in
check.
JIMMY:
Right, that and my first amendment.
WASHINGTON:
Don’t go anywhere.
(Crosses to KRANCE)
God damn wise-ass. Says he’s waiting for his sister.
KRANCE:
Oh, his sister, huh?
WASHINGTON:
You get anything?
KRANCE:
He’s clean.
WASHINGTON:
No.
KRANCE:
Well, he’s still young. What do you think?
WASHINGTON:
Oh, it’s him. It’s got to be. The hoodie, the cap, that’s
him.
KRANCE:
Yup. That’s my take too. So, what do we do, rook?
WASHINGTON:
Toss him.
KRANCE:
Right. Good. You go on and do it. I’ll back you up.
WASHINGTON:
Okay.
KRANCE:
Listen, if he gives you any more shit, don’t be so polite.
These punks got to learn to respect the badge.
WASHINGTON:
Right.
(Crosses back to JIMMY. KRANCE
stands to one side ready to draw
his weapon)
Alright, Jimmy, can you stand up for me?
JIMMY:
For what?
KRANCE:
What are you, deaf? Get on your feet.
WASHINGTON:
Just get up, Jimmy.
(JIMMY stands)
Now, come on over here.
JIMMY:
Why?
WASHINGTON:
Come on, Jimmy, this isn’t your first tussle at the dance,
is it? Come over here, and put your hands right there.
JIMMY:
Did I have any warrants?
KRANCE:
We’re doing the talking now.
WASHINGTON:
Just shut your mouth, and do what you’re told.
KRANCE:
Did I have any warrants?
WASHINGTON:
(Looks to KRANCE, who unsnaps his
holster. Pulling out his baton)
Jimmy, this isn’t a thing unless it’s a thing.
KRANCE:
Oh, it’s a thing now.
WASHINGTON:
It’s a thing?
KRANCE:
He’s got no respect for the law.
JIMMY:
Why should I, when you’re breaking it over my head.
KRANCE:
I’ll break your head.
WASHINGTON:
Settle down, boy.
JIMMY:
You’ve got no right.
WASHINGTON:
But we do, Jimmy. We’ve had reports.
JIMMY:
It’s a lie! I ain’t done-
(KRANCE draws his gun)
WASHINGTON:
Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Take a deep breath. Now,
tell me, are you carrying any weapons?
JIMMY:
No.
WASHINGTON:
Knives, razors?
JIMMY:
Nothing.
WASHINGTON:
Then there’s no reason to overreact.
JIMMY:
But, I haven’t done-
KRANCE:
Shut up, boy, just shut up.
JIMMY:
What’s your badge number?
KRANCE:
Oh, you want to play?
JIMMY:
(Grabbing his bag)
I’m writing your number down.
KRANCE:
Freeze, asshole.
WASHINGTON:
Drop the bag!
JIMMY:
I got rights!
WASHINGTON:
(Overlapping)
Drop it, Jimmy! Just drop it on the ground!
JIMMY:
(Overlapping as HE reaches in)
You can’t tell me what to-
KRANCE:
(Overlapping)
Stop him! Don’t let him(
WASHINGTON cross-checks JIMMY in
the head with his baton, then puts
him down with a strike to the
knees. KRANCE stands over JIMMY
holding his gun on him. Still
overlapping)
Don’t move, punk! Don’t move!
WASHINGTON:
(Overlapping)
On your stomach! Roll over on your stomach!
JIMMY:
(Overlapping)
Get off! Get off of me!
KRANCE:
(Overlapping)
Cuff him! Cuff him!
(By now WASHINGTON has JIMMY
pinned face down on the pavement.
HE struggles to get the cuffs on
him)
Stop struggling, Jimmy. Just stop it.
JIMMY:
(Weakly)
Help.
WASHINGTON:
Stop it.
(HE finally gets the cuffs on him,
and starts rifling through his
pockets)
God, damn it! What the hell is wrong with you?
JIMMY:
I didn’t do anything.
KRANCE:
You’re a pusher.
WASHINGTON:
We’ve had reports.
JIMMY:
It’s a lie.
WASHINGTON:
(Tossing the contents of JIMMY’s
pockets onto the ground, a pack of
gum, some loose change)
Why are you wearing that cap?
JIMMY:
I’m a fan!
KRANCE:
Oh, he’s a fan.
WASHINGTON:
Nothing.
KRANCE:
(Kicks the schoolbag over to
WASHINGTON)
Check the bag.
WASHINGTON:
(Rifles through the bag)
You may as well tell us where it is. We’re going to find
it anyway.
JIMMY:
I got no idea what you’re talking about.
WASHINGTON:
Shhh!
(THEY all freeze, and watch FRANK
as he comes back on. HE doesn’t
notice THEM, as HE goes to the
bench, grabs up the paper bag, and
slips it under his shirt)
Who’s that?
KRANCE:
Is that your partner?
JIMMY:
I never seen him before.
FRANK:
(Turns and sees the OTHERS)
Oh, shit.
KRANCE:
(Pointing his gun at FRANK)
Freeze, ass hole! Don’t move.
(Pause)
Lay down flat on the ground and put your hands behind your
head. Do it!!!
(Long pause)
FRANK:
Fuck it.
(Pulls a gun from out from under
his shirt. HE and KRANCE start
firing. WASHINGTON fumbles to get
his gun out of the holster)
JIMMY:
No, no, no! Stop!! Oh, my god! Stop!!!
FRANK:
(Shoots KRANCE, advances on the
hapless WASHINGTON)
Hold it right there, pig. Yeah, not so tough now, huh?
JIMMY:
No, don’t do it!
WASHINGTON:
Please, please, I’ve got a family.
FRANK:
So do I, mother fucker.
(Shoots HIM. Long pause)
JIMMY:
What did you do, Frankie? What did you do?
FRANK:
Get out of here, Jimmy.
JIMMY:
Where? Where am I supposed to go.
FRANK:
Just run. Get out of here.
JIMMY:
They got my name.
FRANK:
They got your...?
JIMMY:
They called it in. What the hell did you do to me? What
did you do?
(FRANK points the gun at JIMMY.
JIMMY freezes. Fade to black.
Gunshot)
The End
EXPEDIENCY
By
Brian Henry
© 7-5-2011
Contact info:
bigbronin@yahoo.com
917-756-9407
Place: A private passenger compartment on a train
heading from Davos, Switzerland to Vienna
Time: Late fall in 1938, night, Austria
Characters:
Sophia Bohnhausser, a pretty woman of 28.
She is dressed smartly in a dark woolen
suit, and a sensible topcoat. She has
frizzy blond hair and is showing eight
months of pregnancy.
Col. Herman von Staat, an affable German man
in his late 40’s. His appearance is
exquisitely put together, fully groomed and
polished. His proud bearing shows off his
SS uniform beautifully.
2
Whhh! Don’t look at me.
Come in, please.
Tickets, passports.
It’s open.
Papers, please. Scheiss.
COL. VON STAAT:
(Outside the door)
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
(Still outside)
SOPHIA:
(SHE gets herself up unsteadily and
opens the door)
(A regiment of men sings “Deutschland, Deutschland Uber Alles” somewhere in the distance. They are raucous and merry. A train-whistle blows, and a mighty engine turns over, drowning out the singing. Lights up. SOPHIA comes into the compartment. SHE carries a small satchel, which SHE puts in the overhead rack with some difficulty. SHE takes off her top coat and sits wearily, catching sight of her reflection in the window)
SOPHIA:
(There is a knock at the door)
COL. VON STAAT:
Tickets, please, pass- Oh! Dear, madam, please do forgive
me. Sit, sit, sit.
Thank you, Herr Major.
Colonel.
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
Oh, silly me! Colonel. Everyone keeps changing their
uniform. It’s so hard to keep up.
3
COL. VON STAAT:
(Chuckling)
Yes, it’s like a masquerade, no? Colonel Herman von Staat,
at your service.
SOPHIA:
Ah, Herman, that’s my husband’s name.
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
Is that so?
Yes.
What a coincidence!
Yes, I...I suppose.
Madame, may I please see your ticket and passport?
SOPHIA:
Of course. It’s in my case. Would you mind?
Certainly.
Ach!
Problem?
COL. VON STAAT:
(HE pulls her bag down, and sets in on
the seat next to HER. SHE rummages
through it, while HE jots something
down in a note pad)
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
No. No, no, no. I know it’s here. I just, usually put
it- Ooo! Would you like a chocolate? It’s Swiss.
COL. VON STAAT:
May I?
Please. I can’t keep my hands off them.
SOPHIA:
4
Mmmm. Delicious!
it.
I couldn’t imagine it.
Colonel, you’re a flirt.
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
I know. I’ll be a house frau in a frock before you know
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
Guilty. May I have a look?
SOPHIA:
If you like. I can’t understand what happened...I...
(HE takes her things out, and examines
them thoroughly, laying each one
carefully on the seat)
COL. VON STAAT:
I must apologize for intruding on your boudoir, as it were.
SOPHIA:
Don’t be silly.
COL. VON STAAT:
Frau Sternmacher would normally do this, but she has the
grippe.
Oh, well, I hope she-
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
(Sniffing a bottle of perfume)
Ah! Exquisite. Is it French?
SOPHIA:
They told me so. I got it in Davos.
COL. VON STAAT:
(Pulling out a negligee)
Oo la la! This is certainly French.
(Holding it up against HIMSELF)
This will cause many a sleepless night.
5
SOPHIA:
Colonel, you embarrass me.
How do I look?
You are a flirt.
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
(Holding the negligee up against HER)
Ah, the French, how I envy them their pursuit of the finer
things in life.
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
Wait a minute.
Forgive me, I-
No, no, no, my ticket. That’s right, here it is.
(SHE pulls the ticket and passport from
her coat pocket)
Ach, I’m such a dunderbolt anymore!
COL. VON STAAT:
Not at all. With the miracle of life, one must trade some
small inconveniences for heavenly treasures, no? It’s a
very happy alchemy.
SOPHIA:
Colonel von Staat, you are a true philosopher.
COL. VON STAAT:
Three sons, and two daughters.
SOPHIA:
Bravo.
Now, now, let’s see. Sophia Bohnhausser. 28. Married.
COL. VON STAAT:
Born, Vienna, Austria. You live there now?
SOPHIA:
Well, I...I will be. I’m going home. I haven’t lived
there in some time, four years.
6
COL. VON STAAT:
Where have you been living?
SOPHIA:
Landeck.
COL. VON STAAT:
Ah, Landeck. It’s lovely.
SOPHIA:
Yes, my husband and I moved there when we were married.
COL. VON STAAT:
Frau von Staat and I took a ski trip there when we were
young.
Really?
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
Oh, yes. The night skiing, it’s thrilling. Tell me, do
Pitzaler is in Imst.
Imst?
That’s right.
COL. VON STAAT:
Ah! Do you know, I think you are right. We were so young.
Who can remember those years anymore? Ah well. So, your
husband, is he there now?
you ski the Pitzaler?
The Pitzaler?
Pitzaler Glacier, the best downhill in the world.
Imst?
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
7
No, no, no. Landeck.
SOPHIA:
Oh yes, of course. No, he’s...well...I don’t know where he
is exactly.
COL. VON STAAT:
Don’t tell me he’s run off.
SOPHIA:
In a manner of speaking. When the Anschluss came, and we
all became German again, he decided he must do his duty. So, you might ask Herr Goering where he is.
COL. VON STAAT:
Ha, ha, ha. Marvelous. Yes, I see.
SOPHIA:
And so, that is why I am going home, at least until his
time is up.
COL. VON STAAT:
Very sensible. But, what in heavens name were you doing in
Switzerland?
SOPHIA:
My Great-Aunt Eleanor took ill, and I was the closest,
so...
COL. VON STAAT:
I see. And how long were you there?
Six months.
Six months!?
Shingles.
Oof! Dutiful child.
Well, I...
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
8
Yes. And now, I suppose, I must do my duty.
SOPHIA:
Your duty?
COL. VON STAAT:
You see, we’ve had credible information regarding a
pregnant woman on this train.
SOPHIA:
Really?
COL. VON STAAT:
Do you know, there are fourteen pregnant women on this
train?
You don’t say.
Oh, Colonel.
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
I do. The Anschluss, it seems, was a powerful aphrodisiac.
COL. VON STAAT: And Frau Sternmacher has the grippe!
(Laughs)
Please, Frau Bohnhausser, stand up and hold your arms
extended to the side.
What?
I must search your person.
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
What?
COL. VON STAAT:
Believe me, I would rather not. I find it offensive, but
please, I must follow my orders without fail. After all,
there are troops on this train.
Are there?
SOPHIA:
9
COL. VON STAAT:
Please! You can’t have missed the singing.
SOPHIA:
Is that what that was? For a moment, I thought all Austria
was singing.
COL. VON STAAT:
Come, I will be as...unobtrusive as it is possible.
Please.
(Long pause)
SOPHIA:
Must we? I get so dizzy on moving trains now. It must be-
COL. VON STAAT:
Now, Frau Bohnhausser.
Yes, of course. Just allow me a moment to get a couple of
good breaths.
Up!
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
(Getting up)
SOPHIA:
Yes, of course. I... Whatever you... Oh!
(SHE swoons. COL. VON STAAT studies
HER a moment, then revives HER)
COL. VON STAAT:
Frau Bohnhausser. Frau Bohnhausser. SOPHIA:
(Coming to)
Uuunnh.
COL. VON STAAT:
Now, now, just relax. A woman in your condition...
What happened?
You fainted.
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
10
Did I?
How do you feel?
A little light headed.
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
(Handing HER the chocolates)
Here. Perhaps a little sugar will help.
SOPHIA:
Thank you.
Mmmm. That’s so good.
Yes. Feeling better?
SOPHIA:
Well, no worse than usual.
COL. VON STAAT:
Good. Now, if you please.
(Eats one)
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
Yes?
On your feet.
Oh. Yes, of course.
COL. VON STAAT:
That’s it. I’m so sorry. Arms to the side, please. Legs
apart. Good.
(Using his pen, HE traces the contours
of her body, slowly, carefully, the
arms first, then the legs. When HE
gets toward the top of the legs, SHE
gasps and tenses up)
I’m sorry, just try to relax. This will all be over soon.
Good. Would you mind, please, unbuttoning your jacket?
(SHE complies)
Please, would you...
SOPHIA:
(SHE gets up)
11
(Indicates SHE should hold up her
breasts. HE examines under her
breasts. SHE begins to cry a little)
No, no, no. Shhhh. Please, I...
(HE stops abruptly, and moves to
the door. SHE sits, covering herself) I...I am sorry, Frau Bohnhausser. I... Good day.
(HE bows, and turns to go)
SOPHIA:
Auf Wiedersehen, Colonel von Staat.
COL. VON STAAT:
(Stops, turns)
Lift up your blouse. I want to see your belly.
SOPHIA:
What?! Oh, please, Colonel.
Lift your blouse.
No, please...
Don’t.
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
(Backing away)
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
You will be searched.
I’ve already been-
You will be searched thoroughly.
Have you no shame?
I have orders!
Please!
Lift your blouse.
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
SOPHIA:
COL. VON STAAT:
(Slaps HER)
12
(Long pause. SHE reaches down inside
her blouse, and a change comes over her
expression)
SOPHIA:
Very well, Colonel von Staat.
(SHE pulls out a detonator with a chord
connected to her belly) Sic semper tyrannis!!!
(Blackout. Explosion. Train crash)
THE END
13