America Finding Her Way

excavation of city slum. Emerging from shadows behind boy, an ageless ragged woman puts hand her on him)

  Gaia: Look back, boy. Deep under earth, long ago. Eda's time.

  Jamy: OK, watch – here I go. (He slowly extends both hands)

  (Wind howls. Scrim fades in time from the excavation to the city slum as it was, then to Main Street 1930's, then to a frontier town, then an Indian camp, then wilderness...)

  Jamy: Yes! Can you see? Stones. Piled, then crumbled...

  (Distant cheering begins. Sound of rain)

  Jamy: (Gets to his feet) Yes! There are tiles! I see white ones, Gaia. Under the river. Are they yours?

  Gaia: Careful, boy. Don't fall!

  (Cheering builds as Jamy goes dark, scrim "wilderness" jumps forward to a ‘60’s anti-war rally, and a silhouette stands in bright doorway to an offstage kitchen)

  Jen: (From doorway, calling) Dad? (Beat) Dad, you there?

  (Rally fades, while Alan in armchair is becoming lit. Rain)

  Alan: (Deep in thought) Yes.

  Jen: You alright?

  Jen: Nah, late Sunday. Got an 8:30 on Monday. Poli-Sci. (Opens off-stage refrigerator) Was that a snigger? Jeezuz, who tracked in all the muck! I'm telling you we can say goodbye to Indian summer. Looks like it's set to storm till New Year's. Hey, what's this? Box got my name on it?

  Alan: Something Mimi gave me to give you.

  Jen: From Gramma? Great. How's she like Seniors' Castle? That's what she calls the place. Bet everybody's getting packages – she's got acres of stuff she won't have room for. (Opening soda can) Listen – really liked the second section piece on the Project: "Homeless by Decree." Who gets the by-line for that? (Comes to lean in doorway with soda) Mom's not home?

  Alan: (Not moving) They want to draft me, Jen.

  Jen: Draft you?

  Alan: What do you think?

  Jen: Get real.

  Alan: For Governor.

  Jen: Governor. The Governor?

  Alan: Pretty hard up, huh?

  Jen: You're kidding! Would you do it?

  Alan: (Pause) No.

  (Back door slam)

  Jen: No?

  (Kate in kitchen door, totally exhausted, and preoccupied with her missing son– )

  Kate: Isn’t Jamy here?

  Jen: Mom!

  Kate: You beat me, Chicken Little. Give a hug. What do you feel like eating?

  Jen: Anything! I'm like roaring.

  Kate: Did Jamy come home at all? He didn't show at the lab. I had plenty of work for him. (Perches on arm of Alan’s chair)

  Alan: Jamy was here; banged in and out.

  Kate: He didn't tell you where he was going?

  Alan: He doesn't have much to say to me, does he?

  Kate: Alan.

  Alan: Does he?

  Kate: You have to ask. He has to answer.

  Jen: Thought you were due for a vacation, Mom.

  Kate: Hummmph.

  Alan: (An arm around Kate) Not while there's a live brain available for hookup, she isn't.

  Kate: Alan?

  Alan: I don't know. He dragged boxes around, got into cupboards...

  Jen: You mean you missed the "Delta in Spring" out here?

  Kate: Delta in... What?

  Jen: There's mud all over the place.

  Kate: Mud? Then it's the Project. He's down there again. I saw the fence torn away.

  Jen: How about Chinese?

  Kate: What? (Stretching out on couch) Oh, terrific idea. Want to call?

  Alan: His teacher called this morning. Seems we need to arrange-a-meeting.

  Kate: Grades?

  Alan: Who knows? He left word at the city desk.

  Jen: Oh-oh, I can see it now – "Editor Summoned to Junior High to Discuss Son's Recalcitrance."

  Alan: Smart lip. Is that what we sent her to study?

  Jen: (Going to kitchen to telephone) Yup.

  Alan: Tired?

  Kate: A zombie.

  Jen: (Leaning through door, phone in hand) What'll it be, the usual?

  Kate: Hell, let's celebrate. Get sesame noodles too. Spinach.

  Jen: Wow wow wow. Do I, uh, order for Jamy?

  Kate: (Annoyed) Of course you do.

  Jen: Oooo, is he in trouble?

  Alan: I tried to reach you at noon.

  Kate: I was six hours at the screen. Grabbed lunch at two, then back for another six. If they didn't sweep up, I'd never make it home.

  Alan: So I noticed. (Beat) See anything exciting?

  Kate: (Curt laugh) If people knew cocaine was so dull, they'd take two aspirin and run around the bed.

  (Jen returns, sits on floor, opening a shirt-size box)

  Jen: OK, dinner in twelve minutes. Or so they say.

  Kate: What you got, Honey?

  Jen: Something from Gramma.

  Kate: Aiiee, the Gorgon strikes.

  Jen: Mom.

  Kate: How was it at Mimi's court? Forgot all about the quarterly meeting.

  Alan: Take it easy.

  Kate: You mean she didn't demand your divorce?

  Jen: Look at this. (Mystified by contents of box)

  Alan: It's worse than I thought. And the board's behind her. They want to cut production by half.

  Kate: What?

  Jen: No shit.

  Alan: And no more wage-gap editorials. Generic term – "Wage-Gap"

  Kate: She can't do that.

  Jen: Sure can.

  Alan: I've lost 34% of advertising. She can do as she likes.

  Kate: Circulation is way up.

  Alan: At half a buck a shot? Tell that to Donaldson's. They pulled their ads today.

  Jen: What do you think these are? (She is picking up curved pieces of lace, cotton, organdy)

  Kate: Beautiful. (Jen hands her a piece) Are they...collars?

  Jen: Daddy?

  Alan: (Sighs) Yes...Mimi made them. When she was starting college.

  Kate: (Shaking her head) That woman.

  Jen: Oh, she told me: her wardrobe was one woolen dress, cause that's all she could afford. So she made all these collars to change her look, make people think she had more.

  Kate: An austerity lesson then. Which you do have use for. Come on, Honey, give us your news. We could use a pick-me-up.

  Jen: My news? Who's got news that won't get shoved to page three. Didn't he tell you?

  Kate: What. What's happened?

  Alan: Jen...

  Jen: Jen, what?

  Alan: It's not...

  Kate: (Pause) What's going on please?

  Jen: He's only been asked to run for Governor.

  Kate: (Stiffens) You have?

  Alan: A...committee came by this afternoon.

  Jen: Before or after Gramma's meeting?

  Alan: I thought they just wanted to arrange coverage of the nominating caucus.

  Jen: Way cool! Isn't it?!

  Kate: (Gets up, moves away) It's...certainly an honor.

  Jen: You look like... (Beat) What's with you two?

  Kate: What was said?

  Alan: Nothing much. Usual stuff I guess. My name raised, recognized pillar, they hoped I'd concur...

  Jen: I don't get it. You're acting like it's the IRS.

  Kate: Please, Jennel.

  Jen: All right, I don't exist!

  Alan: They did mention...Mike.

  (Dimly, the anti-war rally begins to appear on the scrim)

  Kate: (Startled) I don't believe it.

  Alan: I know. But he's been practicing here since August. Put my name up.

  Kate: Since August?

  Alan: Whitman, Benuto, and Lang.

  Kate: Why hasn't he called?

  Jen: Mike who? What is this.

  Kate: (Beat. Then avoids– ) Jamy might be with Rick. I'll call Rick's. (She leaves)


  Jen: You running away? Great move.

  Alan: Cool it, Ms.

  Jen: That's what I like about finally being adult. People pay attention to you.

  Alan: Adult?

  Jen: What "Mike" put your name up?

  Alan: You're about as avoidable as sixth-grade basketball.

  Jen: So pretend it's time-out. What Mike?

  Alan: An old friend.

  Jen: Friend? You don't sound so sure.

  Alan: We...disagreed last time I saw him.

  Jen: When was that?

  Alan: Do they teach you anything at that college besides cross-examination?

  Jen: Oh, frig it. I'm lucky I got this one Poli-Sci course. There's this bull about how you can't specialize till junior year. They expect me to waddle around in Asian History and Particle Physics.

  Alan: You think that's not politics?

  Jen: It's a waste.

  Alan: Gotta rush right out and make your pile, huh?

  Jen: Before it's all spoken for, yeah.

  Alan: Jen, it's time we had a talk about money.

  Jen: Whoa, back up. This conversation did a somersault.

  Alan: Oh?

  Jen: Yeah, and it's me with water up the nose. You're avoiding the issue!

  Alan: I thought the issue was your avarice.

  Jen: You're gonna make a super Governor!

  Alan: Cut!

  (Jen clamps her mouth shut, prances silent, three seconds, then–)

  Jen: So why's Mom strung out? I thought they finally gave her her own lab.

  Alan: Yeah, they admit she's up to something important, but nobody quite gets it. So she's racing to finalize her data for a conference in Paris.

  Jen: So who's this Mike?

  Alan: Jennel, take a breath. Hold it. Let it out...slow. Now. For one minute, consider your own affairs. Are you quiet?

  (Jen sighs, pouts, flops down)

  Alan: Good. Now: I expect an item by item audit of your month's expenditures. Are you...

  (Doorbell)

  Jen: Tadah!

  (Jen puts her hand out for money. Alan sighs, and gives her some)

  Jen: (Flouncing to front door) Saved by sesame green noodles? How ignoble.

  Alan: I'll get you later.

  Jen: (Opening door) Da dump dadah!

  (Mike stands holding bags of Chinese food. Jen thrown off-guard. In his custom-tailored worsted, he's clearly no delivery boy)

  Mike: (Smooth) I'm gonna be soaked in a minute, Jennel. So if you're up for sharing, I think there's enough for all of us.

  Jen: (Without knowing who he is) Why not? Seeing you paid. You did pay the boy?

  Mike: (Steps in) Thanks. Easier than I thought.

  Jen: You will have to introduce yourself.

  Alan: (Standing, at distance, cold) It's Mike Benuto, Jen.

  Jen: Ahh, that Mike.

  Mike: (Tension between them) How are you, Alan? (Pause) She's quite a young lady.

  Alan: What are you doing here?

  Jen: Woman. (Hands Alan back his money)

  Mike: (Avoiding the question– ) Choose your ground, Alan...

  Jen: Young woman. Thank you.

  Mike: ...Parkside Terrace or City Slope?

  Alan: You think you can show up out of nowhere and…

  Mike: (Nudging Alan into their old debating format) My money’s on Parkside.

  Alan: That isn't a choice, it's a pile of opportunistic...

  Mike: Then you are with "old money."

  Jen: Is this about the Project?

  (Kate returning, sees Mike and stops, unnoticed)

  Alan: Old money, nothing. City Slope is the only plan with integrity, vision...

  Mike: And palace gardens sweeping to a waterside "Chateau."

  Jen: What are you talking about?

  Alan: That hotel is needed. And "Park”-side is a strip of grass between condominiums!

  Mike: A convention chateau, fine, but with a sub-shopping arcade? The Downtown boys can't see that that's needed.

  Kate: (Quiet, avoiding emotion of meeting Mike) What about housing?

  Mike: Kate! (Spins to look at her)

  Kate: Something a waitress could afford.

  Jen: (To Kate, surprised– ) Didn't know you cared.

  Alan: Stay out of this, Jennel. (To Mike) You think Downtown wants to be squeezed by tasteless hunks of...

  Mike: (Eyes on Kate, arguing with Alan) Condos mean people, who wander onto the street with change to spend. You checked Downtown at noon lately? Not even a ghost.

  Alan: You see condo dwellers on the street? They don't have legs!

  Kate: Shut up, you're making me sick.

  Mike: Kate, the fantastic fanatic, and Alan with his swift uppercut – we’re back!

  Kate: I'll puke in a minute. I feel it. (She bangs a fist into her stomach)

  Jen: (Stunned) Mom, I've never seen you...

  Kate: (Tops Jen– ) There are people freezing!

  (Everyone silenced, winded)

  Jen: (Timid) Wow. Is this what you guys called the war at home?

  Kate: (Beat. Strained) I want to know where Jamy is. Rick hasn't seen him.

  Mike: Jamy?

  Kate: (She finally softens) Hello Mike.

  Alan: All right, if he’s not here in fifteen, I'll go