by Karen Sunde
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...
Bet
h: (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:
