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    America Finding Her Way

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    kitchen, from off) Getting some bananas, alright?

      Jen: Your clothes are laid out, Jamy. God, look at you; you're going to have to shower. Where do you think you're going...Jamy! Who's out there?

      Jamy: (From off, exiting) Gaia.

      Jen: (Pause, lost) I don't think the folks know what to do. They're like tracing a spider-thread hoping it doesn't wisp off into nothing.

      Mike: With Jamy?

      Jen: He's not always hostile, he's just...a ghost. Did you see? He looks right through you.

      Mike: I see how it could dislodge your parenting instinct. At least they can rejoice that you're a winner.

      Jen: Forget it. They think they failed with me because I'm looking to get rich.

      Mike: Ahh, but that's a good ole American virtue.

      Jen: They call it "soulless."

      Mike: You see...

      Jen: They did teach me to work for it, so I'm not a complete loss.

      Mike: …those two are unregenerate anti-establishmentarians.

      Jen: And you’re well disguised – with your Ferrari swagger, your multi-digit wardrobe, your...

      Mike: (Brushing tuxedo that's hanging in doorway) Don’t let appearances fool you, darlin’

      Jen: Your suave is not for real?

      Mike: Them that flash, need cash.

      Jen: What?

      Mike: Real wealth seldom looks it. But who knows that? I dress to cover the tracks I had to cross getting here.

      Jen: You were poor? But Nam was a rich kids’ revolution.

      Mike: Who told you that?

      Jen: (Moving to him suggestively) Listen, I've been fantasizing about your unregenerate generation all my reactionary life.

      Mike: Don't tempt me, baby. Fiction is far more fun than truth.

      Jen: You mean – settle for a story at bedtime, little girl?

      Mike: (Warning) Ah ah ah. (Goes back to folding brochures) We must not nudge this extraordinarily productive relationship toward the scandalous. The "papers" would be on us in a milli-second.

      Jen: Ohh, but it's all right for you and Mom to...

      Mike: Speaking of "papers," what's Mimi going to do?

      Jen: Sell it.

      Mike: (Stops what he's doing) No!

      Jen: She put it on the market yesterday. Dad didn't tell you?

      Mike: He said advertising had picked up.

      Jen: Not the point. His defiance is the point.

      Mike: What do you mean? I've diplomatized his ass off. I feel like I'm in a marathon arm wrestle. Did you see the piece he wanted to run on the Project's development kick-backs?

      Jen: Yeah.

      Mike: He'd have smeared half the people on that list of yours. We'd have had a big zero count tonight.

      Jen: The piece wasn't that bad. And if it's true...

      Mike: Timing, my dear, timing. Mimi would arrest on the spot.

      Jen: Oh, he'll find another angle. He refused to down-scale production, and that flipped her. In half a second she was on the phone to her lawyer – "It's up for sale. Start taking bids."

      Mike: Right out from under him. God. Did I tell you I went after her for a contribution?

      Jen: No shit. Bet she sees you as the peon her son dragged in.

      Mike: Jacob liked me. She remembers that.

      Jen: Grand-dad did?

      Mike: He saw the glint of a “comer.” Kind of ambition he wanted in Alan.

      Jen: So you knocked on Mimi’s door – big grin, slotted jar in hand?

      Mike: Gold-plate pen, darling. Just a pen.

      Jen: And?

      Mike: Oh, she tea-caked and fussed me over, but did not dip for her son's campaign. Nope. Not a bit impressed.

      Jen: Probably afraid he'll burn the flag on the steps of the state-house.

      Mike: No, she just seemed disconnected. Waiting – for something else.

      Jen: There is no way you'll get him into this tuxedo.

      Mike: Don't worry – as long as you got the right size.

      Jen: I can't picture it.

      Mike: Never seen him on? He moves into action like a tiger.

      Jen: Maybe...when something breaks in the newsroom.

      Mike: Yes, "when" is the key. The moment he's convinced...his stroke has absolute power. It bores through to your backbone. You're riveted – to him and his cause. (Beat) So once they've felt it, they can't let him rest, and he can't refuse. He's a leader.

      Jen: Well. (Little laugh) Wow.

      Mike: What's your mother wearing?

      Jen: (Beat) You'll have to ask her.

      Mike: Ok. Will do. (Heads for stairs)

      Jen: Clever move. Except she's not home.

      Mike: Not home?

      Jen: Nope.

      Mike: We have to be scarce in half an hour!

      Jen: Tell that to her synapses.

      Mike: I don't believe it.

      Jen: Wasn't she always like that?

      Mike: (Worried) Hmmmm?

      Jen: So...absorbed?

      Mike: No. She was the spark, the lightning...

      Jen: What was it like, the three of you on the barricades?

      Mike: (Dreaming) Hayride at first frost.

      Jen: What?

      Mike: (In the present) Sorry, I keep forgetting.

      Jen: What.

      Mike: You're too young for the image.

      Jen: Well I've never seen her “spark.”

      Mike: Miss Muffet, I believe you're fishing.

      Alan: (Enters from front door, to Mike) My god, you look like Halloween.

      Mike: You're not insulting this tender young-uh woman?

      Alan: So they still make 'em like that? (Kisses Jen) Beautiful, Jenilla.

      Mike: OK, you've gone over your speech?

      Alan: Mike...

      Mike: The only thing to watch for – should they get onto the Project – is to stay between. Let both City Slope and Parkside imagine they can claim you. And what's true – absolutely – is "we haven't finished studying the issue."

      Alan: That creaks, Michael.

      Mike: Nothing can be crystal, anyway, until all the owners are declared. Am I right?

      Alan: (Flops into chair) Right.

      Mike: (Picks up bottle) Tonight is not about urban angst. Tonight is about getting you on the slate.

      Alan: (Indicating champagne) You cracking that, or just waving it around?

      Mike: Later, champ.

      Alan: I could use a whiff of something.

      Mike: Tough day?

      Alan: Had better.

      Jen: How about essence of hot shower?

      Mike: Heard your desk's up for sale. I'm glad you'll have use for the Governor's.

      Alan: Sooner than you can produce it. Mimi moved against my salary this afternoon.

      Jen: What! Does she want us on the street?

      Mike: She can't move alone.

      Alan: No, and the board is only two-thirds with her so far. But she's determined. (Beat) So. How long till my next match.

      Jen: (Checks her watch) Oh, juniper. We've got to move, Dad. (Picks up notes)

      Mike: Ever suspect you were growing a resident campaign manager?

      Alan: A nominating caucus is not a campaign.

      Mike: Ha – a wave on a smile is a campaign.

      Alan: And I haven't okayed your dropping out, young woman.

      Jen: Where else could I get such an education? Now – here's the brief on the Project: Ugly story – "renewal" began in the 50’s; it was the old town, first settled, completely run down, business district shifted, then urban malls...

      Mike: The very first settlement?

      Jen: Before that, an Indian center, the crossing of rivers.

      Mike: Long before the great Condo war.

      Alan: I think Dad was involved in the first restructuring of the area.

      Mike: Jacob "restructured?"

      Alan: Politic for "head em out, move em on."

      Jen: Demo
    lition. Wipe away the poor.

      Alan: They built them low-income high-rises out at City Limits subdivision.

      Jen: "Improved" their living standards.

      Alan: Right – disaster. Even Dad relented.

      Mike: Tough old Jacob?

      Alan: He let a piece get printed under the lead: "Poor Used To Be A Way To Live" depicting Front Street in the 30's.

      Jen: (Jotting notes while he talks) No shit. Lively?

      Alan: Yup. Always a catching-on place where you could collect used bottles, off-load dry goods, wash down the back way at the butcher's, grub a plateful at the diner if they liked your face. And it was life.

      Jen: (Writing) A buzzing mesh...

      Alan: When did poor-life get illegal?

      Mike: When your average family wasn't anymore. Poor.

      Jen: (Reading) "That buzzing mesh could always hold more life." Hey – if I ever go back to school, I'll teach ‘em how it's done.

      Mike: She's showing fire, wouldn't you say?

      Jen: You cut the cute lip, and let him dress. (Hands Alan the tux)

      Alan: Kate upstairs?

      Jen: No, she's...not here yet.

      Alan: No? Oh. (Seeing the tux in his hand) What's this supposed to be?

      Jen: It's supposed to be 40 Long, 32-34, studs in left inside pocket.

      Alan: Bad joke, sweetie. Did you put her up to this?

      Jen: Come on. Just pretend it's a wedding.

      Alan: Not a chance, people. This is a political meeting, not a beauty contest.

      Mike: It's just a matter of form. Celebration. Everyone sports a uniform.

      Alan: I've never been everyone. And I didn't bring her up thinking I was. (Hands back tux, heads up stairs) This is me, take it or leave it.

      Mike: Alan.

      Alan: And the same goes for the marriage registration. You knew the goods – you sell them (Exits above)

      Jen: So much for slipping into a little something less comfortable.

      Mike: (Sighs) He'll make it work. He always could. Panache.

      Jen: Sure. (Beat) What's with the marriage registration?

      Mike: I just want him to call his friend at the records office in Ottawa.

      Jen: Ottawa – their registration? It's in Canada?

      Mike: I know it's a small thing, but after tonight the opposition'll beat anything they can out of the bushes.

      Jen: Sure. (Beat) So what's the date on it?

      Jamy: (Sticking his head in from kitchen) Dad here?

      Jen: Yes, he's up dressing, but you can't...

      Jamy: Sure. I know.

      Jen: Look, Jamy, will you just...

      Jamy: (Dashing across room and upstairs shouting) Dad! There's someone wants to see you.

      Jen: Jamy!

      Jamy: (Glancing back at Jen) Dad? You got time to speak to a...constituent, don't you? Dad? (Exits above)

      Jen: I'm gonna kill that kid! You watch. He will not make it to fourteen.

      Kate: (Entering from kitchen) Does anybody know who that is out there?

      Mike: No doubt a spirit of the night, milady, nodding you on your way.

      Kate: Jamy's home, isn't he?

      Jen: Mom, you've got to hurry. There's only twenty minutes to dress.

      Kate: For what, Jennel?

      Jen: Mom.

      Kate: All this has nothing to do with me. Your father understands. The less fuss you make, the easier it will be on everyone. What time did Jamy come home?

      Mike: What's going on, Kate?

      Kate: Don't get near me dripping cologne, Michael.

      Mike: You and Alan are a team.

      Kate: Performing apes? You figured two for the price of one? Sorry.

      Mike: Kate.

      Jen: Forget it, Mike. She doesn't want him to do it. She's jealous!

      (Jen slams out of the room. Alan is walking above, Jamy following)

      Jamy: Just for two minutes, Dad. It's a friend of mine, wants to talk to you. Before tonight.

      Kate: It’s no good, Mike. Just go before anything gets broken.

      Mike: Like this cocoon you’ve spun? I believe in this campaign, Kate.

      Kate: And I should hoist the flag because you turned up? I believe in the work I'm doing.

      Mike: But it's snuffed your light, Kate. And that’s what made me dare.

      (Kate stares at him, turns and moves swiftly up the stairs)

      Kate: You can dare all you want. You’ve got nothing to lose.

      Mike: (Hitting back) Right. No wife, no kids, no life?

      Kate: (Stops midway) You didn't have to creep from underground, so Jen could have a life! She was born on a crusade, Mike. And what did it get us? Exile.

      Mike: She appears to have survived. (Beat) Alan’s in the world again, Kate. He's reaching to people, wanting to help. Let him go.

      Kate: What makes you think I'm holding him?

      Mike: You laid down the rules for coming back: Cross the border, dig a camp, but we will never show our face in daylight again. Not in this misguided country.

      Kate: Wrong. I never
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