The Kentucky Cycle

by Robert Schenkkan

  JT: The hell it ain’t!

  MARY ANNE: If that’s true, how can you do it? How can you do that to your own people? You a hillbilly just like my daddy, just like me!

  JT: I ain’t no hillbilly!

  MARY ANNE: You said you was a boy off the creek, just like—

  JT: That was a long time ago! Now I’m whoever I say I am. I’m JT Wells and I invent myself new every day, just like the stories I tell!

  MARY ANNE: Don’t matter what you call yourself—you still one of us, that’s the truth!

  JT: Truth? Hell, woman, there ain’t no such thing. All there is is stories!

  MARY ANNE (frightened but unsure why): What’re you sayin’?

  JT: Sure. Everybody got his stories! Your daddy got his stories. Civil War hero, right? Rode with that “gentleman” Quantrill, right? Shit! Quantrill was a thief and a murderer, and when he died folks danced in the streets!

  MARY ANNE: My daddy was a hero!

  JT: ’Course he was! And he’s the son of heroes, right? Pioneer stock! That ain’t the truth! He’s the son of thieves, who came here and slaughtered the Indians and took their land!

  MARY ANNE: We bought this land from the Indians under that oak tree fair and square!

  JT: Well, sure you did! And the people I work for, those Standard Oil people, they bought this land “fair and square” too. And you think they’ll sleep any worse at night than your pa does? When they come in here, maybe they’ll cut the heart out of that old oak you love so much—

  MARY ANNE: NO!

  JT: —and they’ll ship it off to New York, where somebody’ll cut it into a fine banker’s desk and swivel-back chair for Mr. Rockefeller himself! You think when he sits his skinny ass down on that polished surface he gonna be thinkin’ about some poor hillbilly girl whose heart got broke in the process?! You won’t be part of his story, Mary Anne! And when I finish my job for him, I won’t be part of his story either! See, he’ll give some money to a school or something, and grateful people will call him a hero, a great man, a real Christian! And that story is the one that’ll survive—he’ll see to that. While the other story, the one where he’s just a thief, that’ll fade away. That’s your “truth.”

  MARY ANNE: That ain’t . . . you’re wrong . . . it ain’t just stories . . . !

  JT: That’s how somebody like me can do what he does! I just tell people the stories they want to hear. I say what people want me to say and I am whatever they want me to be.

  MARY ANNE: Then what’s left?

  JT: Of what?

  MARY ANNE: At the end of the day, when you’re by yourself—who are you?

  He shrugs.

  Why’d you kiss me back there?

  Beat. And then, right in her face:

  JT: Tell me what you want to hear, and I’ll tell you why I kissed you.

  She slaps him. Beat. Tommy moans and moves slightly.

  Take your boyfriend home, little hillbilly. At least he fights for what he believes in . . . thinks he believes in. At least he thinks he believes in something. Take him home and marry him and live happily ever after.

  JT staggers up. He pulls Jed’s contract out of his pocket and puts it in her hand.

  Here. I owe you one. Tear it up. Tell Jed to tear his banknote up, too.

  JT exits.

  Mary Anne sobs and moves to Tommy.

  The lights fade down on her and come up in a single spot on the Adult Mary Anne. Again, she contemplates her younger self while she speaks to the audience.

  EPILOGUE

  ADULT MARY ANNE: I told my pa what JT said . . . and Pa said it was a lie. That JT was lyin’. That he’d beat JT in the deal and that JT was just tryin’ to get out of it now, tryin’ to get his money back. I asked Pa about Quantrill and Kansas and he said I’d just have to make my own mind up about that. That I could believe him, believe my own daddy, or I could believe this stranger. And if I chose JT—well, here was the contract, and I could tear that up too.

  I didn’t tear it up. I didn’t want to believe JT, and so I chose not to. Like he said, I guess, people believe what they want to believe. And he was right, of course. Probably the only time in his life JT Wells told the truth, and he wasn’t believed. And people say God ain’t got a sense of humor.

  They came a couple of years later, just like he said they would, and they cut down all of the trees, includin’ my oak. I was right about it holdin’ up the sky, ’cause when they chopped it down, everythin’ fell in: moon ’n stars ’n all. Spring’s different now. Without the trees, you get no color, no green explosion. And you got nothin’ to hold the land down neither. What you get is just a whole lotta rain, movin’ a whole lotta mud. I try to tell my boy, Joshua, what it was like, so he’ll know, so it won’t be forgotten, but he just looks at me and laughs. “Mama’s telling stories again,” he says.

  Pause.

  Maybe I am.

  Lights fade slowly out.

  FIRE IN

  THE HOLE

  Watch the rocks, they’re fallin’ daily,

  Careless miners always fail.

  Keep your hand upon the dollar

  And your eye upon the scale.

  —FROM THE SONG “A MINER’S LIFE”

  CHARACTERS

  MARY ANNE ROWEN JACKSON age forty-nine

  JOSHUA ROWEN JACKSON age ten, Mary Anne’s son

  TOMMY JACKSON age fifty, Joshua’s father

  DOCTOR

  MACKIE a miner

  ANDREW TALBERT WINSTON a mine boss

  SILUS a miner

  ABE STEINMAN a union organizer

  MOTHER JONES a union organizer

  CASSIUS BIGGS a miner and bootlegger

  SURETA BIGGS Cassius’s wife

  PREACHER

  LUCY a miner’s wife

  A MAN in the forest

  MINERS, TOWNSPEOPLE, etc.

  NARRATOR: Fire in the Hole.

  The year is 1920. Howsen County, Kentucky. In and around the Blue Star Mine and camp.

  Fire in the Hole.

  1920. The set is now darker and dirtier looking, almost as if a healthy outer layer of skin had been ripped off and some essential “essence” had been bled out of it. There is no hint of the forest that once stood here. The ground is barren and covered with slate and mud. Looming over it all is a huge metal structure, the coal tipple. A large painted sign hangs on the tipple. It reads, BLUE STAR MINING CO. Scattered around the stage are faded, rusty tin signs saying: DIG COAL, DIG MORE COAL, THE SUCCESS OF THE WAR DEPENDS ON YOU, SUPPORT OUR BOYS OVER THERE, DEMOCRACY NEEDS COAL, etc.

  SCENE ONE

  A pool of light comes up on MARY ANNE ROWEN JACKSON, the narrator of Play 6. She stands even as we remember her, facing the audience.

  MARY ANNE: We lost the land when I was twenty and moved into a coal company camp, where Tommy found work in the mines. I stood on my porch that first day and looked down at my new home: dust and noise and flame. Like some old preacher’s vision of hell.

  EZEKIEL appears briefly in a tight spot.

  EZEKIEL (quietly): A place of unquenchable fire . . . a place of misery and pain . . . a place of memory and remorse.

  The spot on Ezekiel fades out.

  MARY ANNE: Durin’ the day I swept and mopped the coal dust out of the house, but ever night, while I slept, it crept back in with the shadows, like my daddy’s bad dreams, and ever mornin’ I started all over again. And always there was that smell: like you’d took a corn-shuck mattress, soaked it in piss, covered it with garbage and coal, and set it on fire.

  JOSHUA: Mama?

  A pool of light comes up on JOSHUA ROWEN JACKSON, ten years old, lying in bed with a fever. Mary Anne walks over to where he lies, and looks out again at the audience.

  MARY ANNE: We had five kids, five sons, and ever rainy season for four y
ears the fever came and took one of my boys. He’s the last, my Joshua. I sit with him now as he burns and he sweats and I hold his hand and do what ever grievin’ mother has done since the beginnin’ of time: I lie.

  JOSHUA: Mama?!

  Mary Anne stares at the audience.

  MARY ANNE: Ssshhhh, Joshua. It’s gonna be all right. Doctor comin’ soon, gonna fix you up fine. Sssshhhhh.

  The lights cross-fade to three men—TOMMY JACKSON, CASSIUS BIGGS, and MACKIE—crouched in a mine shaft facing a wall. Immediately we hear the sound of water dripping and the sound of metal cutting into mineral. Tommy finishes hand-augering a hole in the wall. He forces powder charges into the hole and then turns to Cassius.

  TOMMY: Hand me a deadman.

  Cassius and Mackie nervously pass him the earthen plugs. Tommy hesitates.

  CASSIUS: What’s the matter, Tommy?

  TOMMY: We’re cuttin’ these goddamn pillars too fine.

  A terrible groan of shifting timber and mineral rolls through the mine. The men freeze.

  MACKIE: Jesus Christ on a cross!

  TOMMY: Fuck it.

  The men finish packing the hole with powder and fuses. They scuttle back from the wall. Tommy strikes a match, and as he puts it to the fuse he yells out:

  Fire in the hole!

  The miners huddle, their eyes almost glowing in the dark. As the lit fuse reaches the wall, the following events happen in rapid succession:

  Mackie’s nerves snap. He picks himself up and starts to run down the gallery.

  MACKIE: We gotta get outta here. We gotta get outta here!

  TOMMY: Mackie!

  Tommy starts after Mackie but is pulled down by Cassius.

  There is the sound of an enormous explosion magnified by the narrow mining galleries, followed by a slate fall.

  Joshua sits bolt upright in bed and screams. His scream turns into the ear-shattering blast of a steam whistle mounted on the coal tipple.

  Lights slam up on the mine. Dust. Confusion. Tommy runs up to the wall of slag and broken timbers that now stands where Mackie fled. He digs at it with his bare hands. Cassius joins him.

  TOMMY: Mackie! MACKIE!

  CASSIUS: Mackie!

  TOMMY: Some help! We need some help here!

  Other MINERS arrive, some dazed and bleeding, but all focused on helping those who are trapped.

  I need some tools here, damnit! Get a doctor! You two get some timbers and start shorin’ this line up ’fore we all get killed!

  CASSIUS: MACKIE! MACKIEEEEEE!

  The Miners are silent. Cassius listens, his face to the wall of slag. He turns to the others and shakes his head: nothing.

  TOMMY: Okay, let’s dig. LET’S DIG!

  Cross-fade to the Jackson house. Mary Anne sits next to the bed. The DOCTOR enters.

  DOCTOR: Got here as fast as I could—they had a slate fall.

  MARY ANNE: Who’s hurt?

  DOCTOR: Mr. Winston wouldn’t even let me go down there. Said they ain’t got to any of ’em yet, and when they do, they gonna need a shovel more’n they need a doctor.

  MARY ANNE: You dint hear no names?

  DOCTOR: I told ya, I don’t know! If I did, I’m not supposed to say nothin’. (Beat.) Tommy’s okay.

  Mary Anne nods.

  Hell, he eats coal for breakfast, Tommy does. He’ll be all right. How’s Joshua?

  MARY ANNE: The same.

  DOCTOR: Let me take a look.

  While the Doctor examines Joshua, there is a knock on the door. Mary Anne hesitates.

  Tommy’s all right, I tell ya. Go on, get it.

  She opens the door to reveal ABE STEINMAN, a tall, intense man carrying a small satchel.

  MARY ANNE: Yes?

  ABE: ’Lo, my name’s Abe Steinman. I was lookin’ for a place to stay.

  MARY ANNE: Can’t help ya.

  ABE: Willin’ to pay, of course.

  MARY ANNE: Sorry.

  ABE: Boy, if ole Joseph and Mary had come through eastern Kentucky, Jesus mighta never been born!

  MARY ANNE: If Jesus been born in eastern Kentucky they’da nailed Him up a lot sooner.

  ABE: And the Company probly charge Him for the nails! I pay cash. In advance.

  MARY ANNE: I’ll have to talk to my husband. . . .

  JOSHUA: Mammmaaa!

  DOCTOR: Mary Anne!

  She hurries back into the room. Abe hesitates, then follows. Joshua is thrashing about in delirium.

  Hold’im down or he’ll hurt himself. Hold’im!

  Cross-fade to the mine. Tbe Miners have been digging furiously but are making little progress. Tbere is another long, low rumble as the earth shifts. ANDREW TALBERT WINSTON appears.

  ANDREW: I want every man outta this gallery now—we’re shuttin’ it down.

  Nobody moves.

  Let’s go!

  TOMMY: We got people under there, Mr. Winston.

  ANDREW: You hear anything?

  CASSIUS: No sir.

  ANDREW: Then leave’em be. Let’s go!

  He exits. The Miners begin to follow him, but Tommy returns to work.

  SILUS: We done the best we could, Tommy.

  TOMMY: You say the same thing if that was you under that wall, Silus?

  Tbe Miners leave. Cassius remains. Tommy starts digging again.

  CASSIUS: Come on, Tommy.

  TOMMY: Git the fuck outta here, Cassius. Go on! LEAVE ME ALONE!

  Cassius exits. Tommy flails away at the wall with his shovel, smashing the blade against the rock. Exhausted, he finally drops it. He hugs the wall.

  TOMMY: Mackie? Hey, Mackie? “We done the best we could.” Must be a great comfort to ya.

  Cross-fade to the Jackson house. The Doctor is packing his bag. He sets a small bottle on the table.

  DOCTOR: I did the best I could. Give’im a spoonful of that if he gets restless again. It’ll help’im sleep.

  MARY ANNE: What’s wrong with my boy?

  DOCTOR: Fever.

  MARY ANNE: I can see that. How come?

  DOCTOR: Hard to say.

  ABE: He run a rose-colored rash?

  MARY ANNE: All over his chest.

  ABE: Sounds like typhoid, don’t it?

  DOCTOR: You a doctor?

  ABE: No sir, just seen a lotta dead babies in my time.

  DOCTOR: Well, if you know typhoid, then you know you can’t do nothin’.

  ABE: I reckon. Course, if the Company’d built better privies, people wouldn’t wind up doin’ their business in their drinkin’ water. Might make a difference, don’tcha think?

  DOCTOR: Yeah, well, privies don’t mine no coal.

  ABE: Yeah. ’Course, neither do dead babies.

  DOCTOR (to Mary Anne): Fifty cents.

  MARY ANNE: I can’t pay you nothin’ right now, but if you could just float us for another coupla weeks or so . . .

  DOCTOR: Hell, Mary Anne, you ain’t hardly paid nothin’ on what you owe me for last year!

  He takes the bottle off the table and puts it in his pocket. Mary Anne pulls the Rowen watch out of her apron.

  MARY ANNE: Here! How ’bout this?

  The Doctor examines it.

  DOCTOR: Don’t work none.

  MARY ANNE: It’s gold. It don’t have to work.

  DOCTOR: Five dollars for it.

  MARY ANNE: You come back if he needs it?

  ABE: How much does she owe?

  The Doctor and Mary Anne both look at him.

  DOCTOR: Eight dollars.

  ABE: Here.

  MARY ANNE: We don’t take no charity here.

  ABE: Ain’t offerin’ any. As your boarder, I’m just payin’ you a couple weeks in advance.

  MARY ANNE: I ain’t said you could stay yet.


  ABE: I know.

  MARY ANNE: That’s up to my husband.

  ABE: I’m willin’ to take a chance. How ’bout you?

  MARY ANNE: He says yes, this is rent. He says no, you just lost a bet.

  ABE: You’re on.

  Mary Anne pays the Doctor, who starts to leave.

  MARY ANNE: I want my medicine.

  The Doctor hands her the bottle, then exits.

  JOSHUA: Mama?

  MARY ANNE: I’m here, baby. (Beat.) He gonna die, inne? Maybe he better off—ain’t nothin’ here I’d wish on any child of mine.

  ABE: How long since he had the rash?

  MARY ANNE: ’Bout two weeks.

  ABE: If his fever breaks soon, he’ll pull through.

  Tommy walks in.

  MARY ANNE: Tommy.

  TOMMY: I’m okay. How’s Joshua?

  MARY ANNE: Burnin’ up. Doctor says there’s nothin’ he can do.

  Tommy sits beside his son.

  TOMMY: Ain’t that the truth. (To Abe:) You from the Company?

  MARY ANNE: Tommy, this is Abe Steinman—he’s lookin’ to board here.

  TOMMY: We don’t take no boarders.

  ABE: Why don’t I just step outside and let y’all talk about it.

  He steps out onto the porch.

  MARY ANNE: It ain’t charity, Tommy—he be payin’ us for room and food. . . .

  TOMMY: I can carry my family. . . .

  MARY ANNE: Can ya?

  TOMMY: I’m doin’ the best I can, Mare!

  MARY ANNE: I know that, Tommy, but we just too far behind. I walk in the store, I see how they look at me. I couldn’t pay the doctor today—he was just gonna walk off with Joshua’s medicine. (Beat.) I don’t like it any more’n you do, Tommy, but I don’t see no other way, do you?

  TOMMY: I’m gonna go clean up.

  He exits to the porch. While he talks to Abe, he washes his face and hands in a bucket of water.

  Two fifty a week plus meals. My wife’ll do your laundry for a quarter a week more.

  ABE: Fair enough.

  TOMMY: In advance.

  ABE: I already paid your wife.

  Tommy glances at the house.

  TOMMY: That a fact? (Beat.) So, you lookin’ to hire on at Blue Star?

  ABE: If they’ll take me.

  TOMMY: Oh, they can always use another slate picker, I reckon.