Five Television Plays (David Mamet)
Page 3
WINNIE: You had beans instead of the creamed spinach.
CONGRESSMAN: I'm not going to pay it.
WINNIE: Then I will pay it for you. ‘Cause I bet you've had a hard day.
CONGRESSMAN: Uh. You will?
WINNIE: Yes.
CONGRESSMAN: That's, uh, you know, it's not the money, it's the principle of the thing.
WINNIE: I know that it is.
CONGRESSMAN: That's very kind of you.
WINNIE: Just Pass it On.
(Another WAITRESS and she talk.)
WAITRESS: That fellow giving you a hard time?
WINNIE: Well, you know, it takes all kinds.
WAITRESS: Hey: your vacation starts tomorrow.
WINNIE: You bet. Me and my Son are going to Yellowstone.
WAITRESS: I bet that you wish you were there right now.
WINNIE: I surely do.
RANGER: And they were all instantly transported to Yellowstone Park, the Congressman, the Judge, the Bailiff, the Guards and the Prisoners, and Winnie and her Son. For two weeks of life in the Great Outdoors.
They all sing a chorale. To wit:
Always tell the truth.
Never insult a congressman.
Don't go to court without a lawyer.
Be calm at Roadblocks.
Do not feed the bears.
Bradford
Dramatis Personae
BUSINESSMAN
SECOND BUSINESSMAN
OLD WAITRESS
HARRY
FARMER
JOHN PRICE, CHIEF OF POLICE
REGULAR
MAYOR
PRIEST
BILLY BATES
TOWNSWOMAN (MARY)
WOMAN DISPATCHER (MAY FOWLER)
BOBBY BARNES
OFFICER
SECOND OFFICER
ANNA MOORE
GINNY MOORE, HER DAUGHTER
REPORTER
SECOND REPORTER
FIREMAN (JERRY BATES, BILLY’S FATHER)
TOWNSMAN
MAN
TROOPER
SECOND TROOPER
NURSE
BILL SIMONS
BUS STATION ATTENDANT
PASSERBY
FADE IN.
EXTERIOR: MAIN STREET, BRADFORD, A SMALL NEW ENGLAND TOWN.
Pan past several firemen working in the ruins of a burnt, still smoldering building, across the street to the facade of an old diner, “The Coffeecorner.”
(ANGLE INTERIOR: THE COFFEECORNER. Businessmen in shirt-sleeves, in the bay window, looking out at the burnt building.)
BUSINESSMAN: . . . gonna cost someone couple bucks, put that building back up.
SECOND BUSINESSMAN: The question is, but who.
BUSINESSMAN: Another question: Who did what?
SECOND BUSINESSMAN: Well, that's always the issue, isn't it . . . ?
(An old WAITRESS tops up their coffee. Camera pans with the WAITRESS, back behind the counter.)
WAITRESS: . . . top it up, Harry?
HARRY: Thank you very much. (He addresses the man to his right:) All I'm saying, you get people down the Capital, telling other people how to live their lives, and got no notion how those people live, then, yes, then people lose their respect for the Institution.
(The WAITRESS takes a pot of coffee. Camera follows her down to the far end of the counter, past a FARMER.)
FARMER: What they talking about down there?
WAITRESS: Oh, they're arguing about the Doe season . . .
FARMER: Jimmy! Whyn't you come up with a new subject, talk about the weather, some damn thing.
BUSINESSMAN: Weather's changing all the time, you talk about the weather, you never know where you stand . . .
(Camera follows her down to PRICE, a man around forty, in a corduroy sportscoat, plain shirt, and a tie. He is looking at a road map.)
WAITRESS: More coffee . . . ?
PRICE: Yes. Thank you.
WAITRESS: ’Nother order toast?
PRICE (checks his watch): No, thank you. I don't have time.
BUSINESSMAN (offstage): Yes, I can attest to the usefulness of passing laws, but I can't see laws ‘bout something none of your concern.
PRICE (to the WAITRESS. He points to the map): Could you tell me where this is . . . ?
WAITRESS (she checks the map): Right out the door, one block down State Street.
PRICE: Thank you.
(He drinks his coffee, camera follows him down the counter to the cash register.)
HARRY: Mister, you tell me, you ain't from around here: how many acres does it take to support a doe all winter?
PRICE: I have no idea.
HARRY: F‘course you don't, neither do they down state, then they should stay out of it. Keep the peace, ’stead of getting so involved with the law.
PRICE (to the WAITRESS): What do I owe you . . . ?
WAITRESS: That'll be ninety-five cents.
(He pays her.)
BUSINESSMAN: You want to use the law for something, find out who burnt the Emporium . . .
SECOND BUSINESSMAN: Charley Hopkins would've found him in an hour.
FARMER: You going today? The Memorial?
BUSINESSMAN: That's today, Lord, isn't it?
FARMER: Yep.
BUSINESSMAN: Time flies, don't it?
FARMER: I've noticed it does.
BUSINESSMAN: You going down the Memorial . . . ?
(PRICE walks out of the restaurant.)
(ANGLE EXTERIOR: STATE STREET, TOWN OF BRADFORD. A SMALL NEW ENGLAND TOWN. He has just exited from The Coffeecorner, and behind him, in the bay window, we see the REGULARS whose conversation we have just been hearing. PRICE stands on the sidewalk for a moment, looks up at the sky and shivers a bit. One of the REGULARS comes out behind him, stands near him, lighting a cigarette.)
REGULAR: Just passing through?
PRICE: No. I think I'll stay a bit longer than that.
(The REGULAR moves off Camera follows PRICE to an old station wagon at the curb. It is piled high with personal effects, clothing, and furniture. PRICE opens the passenger door, takes out a raincoat, puts it on, consults his map, and moves off down the street.)
EXTERIOR: BRADFORD LIBRARY. DAY.
A small granite block; cut into it, a five-point star, with the name “Bradford” on it, and the badge number 2121 and “Sacred to the Memory of Charles Hopkins, Chief of Police 1968-1987.”
MAYOR (voice over): What is a “good man"?
(Angle: The MAYOR on the steps of the police department, flanked by three uniformed officers; in the foreground, twenty or so townspeople. As he speaks, it begins to rain lightly and the townspeople begin to put up umbrellas.)
People might say, no man is quite as good, or quite as bad as he seems; but there is such a thing as a good man, and we were privileged to know such a man . . .
(Angle: The group of bystanders. A PRIEST listening.)
Charley Hopkins defined for me the meaning of Community Service, and, as I think he did for all of us, helped define the meaning of Community.
(A young man of eighteen walks in front of the PRIEST. They nod to each other.)
BILLY BATES: Morning, Father . . .
PRIEST: . . . Billy.
(BILLY moves out of the frame.)
MAYOR (voice over): Chief of Police, Past President of our Local Post of the VFW, active in Scouting, a grandmaster of the Masons. Many might say, those who did not know the Chief might say, “A joiner, a booster, a ‘babbitt’ . . .”
(Angle: The MAYOR.)
MAYOR: But who among us, does not have a Charley Hopkins story? Of the things he might have taught you . . . of a good word he put in for you, at school, to get a job, you never found out ‘til years later . . . I remember one time . . .
(Angle: The PRIEST. PRICE now comes into the group. It has started raining heavily. PRICE stands next to the PRIEST. We hear the MAYOR’S voice in the background, as PRICE and the PRIEST converse. The PRIEST motions for PRICE to come share the u
mbrella with him. PRICE demurs.)
PRIEST: . . . Come on, don't get yourself wet.
(PRICE moves under the umbrella with him.)
. . . our Chief of Police. Chief Hopkins.
(PRICE nods.)
One year anniversary, his death.
(PRICE nods.)
Hell of a thing. Good man. Very good man. Died last year. Hunting accident.
PRICE: Uh-hmm.
PRIEST: A hunting accident.
PRICE: His family here?
PRIEST: Didn't have one. Someone more poetic might say the Town was his family.
PRICE: Sounds like a rare man.
PRIEST: Yes. He was.
(Angle: PRICE and the ground in the foreground. The MAYOR, et cetera beyond.)
MAYOR: I have in my hand telegrams from twenty states, from police departments, from Chiefs of Police, and from Officers that Charley met on his travels, as part of his activity in the Law Enforcement World. I will read one . . . (He reads:) "Any officer is touched when a brother gives his life in the Line of Duty. What great example, also, of a man who gave his life to a life of Duty. We learned from him, and we will miss him . . .”
(The MAYOR concludes his speech and nods. The little groups start to break up in the rain.)
(Angle: PRICE and the PRIEST. Several people come up and say good-bye to the PRIEST.)
TOWNSWOMAN (to PRIEST): We'll never see his like.
PRIEST: . . . Mary . . .
TOWNSWOMAN: You know, I owe him my boy's life.
PRIEST: No, I didn't know that.
TOWNSWOMAN: That time, he got into an accident, the 302. (Beat. She moves off.) Father . . .
(The PRIEST is left alone with PRICE.)
PRICE: Hard to replace a man like that.
PRIEST: Yes, it would be. Life goes on, though, doesn't it?
PRICE: I've noticed.
PRIEST: . . . problems of a Town . . . someone has got to deal with them.
PRICE: Yes.
PRIEST: Can't live in the past, now, can you?
PRICE: No, you can't.
PRIEST: Brings you here today?
PRICE: I . . . I came here to pay my respects. (Pause.) Pay my respects to the man.
(The PRIEST nods. They have stopped walking.)
PRIEST: I walk you somewhere?
PRICE: Uh, no thank you. I'm going right here.
(They look up, they are at the Police Station.)
PRICE: I'm the new Police Chief.
PRIEST: Figured you were.
(PRICE starts up the steps. Camera follows him through the doors, marked “Police Department, Town of Bradford.”)
INTERIOR: BRADFORD POLICE STATION.
A woman DISPATCHER on the radio.
DISPATCHER: . . . that is a 201 three miles north of the Interstate on Highway Five. Bradford PD. Out . . . (She turns to PRICE:) I help you . . . ?
PRICE: Officer in charge, please.
DISPATCHER: . . . say who is calling . . . ?
(PRICE goes in his pocket, takes out a badge, shows it to her.)
DISPATCHER: One moment, please.
(ANGLE INTERIOR: BEHIND THE BARRICADE. The DISPATCHER gets up from the desk, over her shoulder, to an assistant.)
THE DISPATCHER: . . . mind the phones, please.
(Camera follows her to an office marked “Chief of Police.” Inside the office is BOBBY BARNES, thirty-five, fit, in a police uniform, talking with two deputies.)
BARNES: . . . all kinds of static, insurance this, Arson that, we got the fellow from the State, and the insurance man, coming down tomorrow, ‘til then let ‘em gossip all they want, I think it was an accident. Now: we got a noise complaint, the kids, back from the Liquor Store. You lean on that man, go in there, he knows they're drinking, got it from the older boys.
DISPATCHER: Bobby . . .
BARNES: One moment: he knows, they're wild, they got it from his store, you tell him that, he'll get the message . . .
DISPATCHER (leans in, whispers to him): Bobby.
BARNES: Thank you. You fellows ‘scuse me for a moment. (To DISPATCHER:) Show him in.
(The two officers leave, as does the DISPATCHER.)
BARNES (into the telephone): Helen, and tell ‘em to hold all the calls this office five, ten minutes, will you . . . ?
(PRICE comes in. The two men face each other.)
BARNES: Afternoon . . . sit down . . . ?
(PRICE comes over, offers his hand.)
PRICE: John Price.
BARNES: Robert Barnes. (Sighs.) I've been acting Chief of Police, since Mr. Hopkins’ death. (Pause.) Wasn't expecting you until tomorrow.
PRICE: Well, I thought I'd come in a bit early, and get settled, you know.
BARNES: Yes. I do. We had a, uh, we had a memorial today for Chief Hopkins.
PRICE: Did you?
BARNES: Yes. We did. We had, they had a monument that they unveiled . . . (Pause.) Testimonials . . . (Pause.) These plaques that you see, twenty-five years he served as Chief here. (Pause.) We've got a case now . . . building burnt on Main Street, The Emporium . . .
PRICE: Uh-huh . . . Any leads on it . . . ?
BARNES: "Leads” on it? Mister, all I got, a building burnt, we called in the adjustors, the State Boys, come in t'morrow, we'll see what they say, you know, it's just a building burnt. Eh? This is a kind of a quiet town. You see what I'm saying? Where you come from, I'm sure it's more active down there.
PRICE: That's right. I'm sure that it is.
BARNES: You'll probably miss that action.
PRICE: Part of me will, I'm sure.
BARNES: . . . aaand, we do things a little differently up here. You know, Chief Hopkins . . . (pause). . . you see, we had a crime, we had a situation, something happened, he'd sit down, sit down in here, close the door, whatever it was, you see, he had the time for that, think: Now, who would be likely do a thing like that? Whatever it was, eh, from their motives, what he knew of them. He would think, then he'd call them up, and they'd come in, they'd sit in that chair, he'd confront them, and then they'd confess. (Pause.) I bet you think that's rather “folksy, “ don't you . . . ?
PRICE: I, uh, you know, I wish I lived in that sort of world. I'm glad he did. (Pause) I wish I had those talents.
BARNES: Do you . . . ?
(BILLY BATES walks in, comes over to BARNES.)
BILLY: Mr. Barnes . . .
BARNES: Well. It was a nice service, wasn't it?
BILLY: Yes sir, it was.
(OFFICER sticks his head in the door.)
OFFICER: Chief, we got a complaint, a prowler, again, out the new Estates.
BARNES: Gettem’ out there quiet, park the car, go in on foot, and take it easy, prolly’ just them kids.
(A SECOND OFFICER comes in.)
SECOND OFFICER: Chief, I talk to you a minute . . . ?
BARNES: You'll excuse me.
(BARNES pushes past PRICE, who rises. PRICE is standing alone in the office. Looks around at the plaques on the wall.)
(Angle point of view: The plaques. Community Service, Boy Scouts, From a Grateful Community, Hunting Safety Instructor, et cetera.)
DISPATCHER (voice over): You have a place to live in Bradford, Mr. Price . . . ?
(PRICE turns to see the DISPATCHER, who has come into the office to take her coat off of the coatrack. PRICE turns.)
PRICE: Pardon me.
DISPATCHER: You find a place to live? A place to live you're here?
(PRICE takes a card out of his pocket.)
PRICE: The Mayor, he suggested the, the Idle Hour Apartments.
DISPATCHER: Come with me, walk me out, will you . . . ?
(Angle: The two of them walking out of the chiefs office, through the small police station squad room. They walk out of the station. The DISPATCHER looks over her shoulder.)
Bobby Barnes’ a good man.
PRICE: Yes?
(Camera follows them down the street. The rain is letting up, the sun is going down.)
DISPATCHER: Yo
u a good man, Mr. Price . . .
PRICE: Well, I guess others would have to judge that.
DISPATCHER: You think of yourself as a good man?
PRICE: I try. But perhaps we aren't the best judge of ourselves.
(They walk a while.)
DISPATCHER: My name is May.
PRICE: John.
DISPATCHER: ’S'a long way out the Idle Hour, cold winter night.
PRICE: Is it?
DISPATCHER: Be more comfortable, find a place in Town. You a single man?
PRICE: Yes, I am.
(They stop. The DISPATCHER gestures.)
DISPATCHER: S'here is Anna Moore's House, lives here, her daughter, said that she was thinking maybe let a room. You might try here. (Beat.) Anybody say “Welcome to Bradford"?
PRICE: No. (Beat.)
DISPATCHER: Welcome to Bradford.
PRICE: Thank you.
(The DISPATCHER nods, gestures at the house. PRICE moves up the walk, knocks on the door.)
INTERIOR: ANNA MOORE'S HOUSE. DUSK.
A neat small Victorian House. The door is opened by a fifteen-year-old girl. PRICE is standing at the door.
GIRL (GINNY): May I help you?
PRICE: Um, Mrs. Moore . . .
GINNY: Mother . . . ! Mother! There's a man here for you . . . one moment please. Will you come in?
(Camera follows PRICE into the foyer.)
ANNA (offstage): Ask him to come in.
GINNY: I'm Ginny Moore.
PRICE: John Price.
(She extends her hand. They shake hands.)
ANNA (offstage): Ginny! Will you ask him to come in. I'll be . . .
GINNY: It's alright, Mother. (To PRICE:) Um . . . Mr. Price . . . Do we know you . . . ?
PRICE: No, if this is a bad time to . . .
(ANNA MOORE, a very handsome woman in her late thirties, comes into the foyer, taking off an apron.)
ANNA: Yes. Good evening.
(The phone rings.)
GINNY: I'll get it.
PRICE: If this is a bad time, I . . . Looks like you're making din . . .
ANNA: I'm just finishing up din . . .
PRICE: I . . .
ANNA: May I help you?
PRICE: My name is John Price. I was referred here by May . . . May . . .
ANNA: May Fowler? The Police Station . . . ?
PRICE: Yes. I am . . .
ANNA: You're the new Chief of Police.
PRICE: Yes.
ANNA: Welcome.
PRICE: Thank you.
ANNA: We have a fairly peaceful town. I think. We hope you like it. We do.