Five Television Plays (David Mamet)

by David Mamet

  (PRICE turns to look at BILLY BATES.)

  PRICE: The kid spent a lot of time at the Station House.

  BARNES: . . . why do you bring him up?

  PRICE: Because I never heard of any kid would trade away a rifle he took a trophy buck with. (Pause.) Did you . . . ? (PRICE turns to the BUS ATTENDANT, gestures back at a storeroom.) Can I use this room, please . . . ?

  ATTENDANT: Yessir.

  (PRICE walks over to the group of JERRY, BILLY, the PRIEST, et cetera.)

  PRICE: Can I steal Billy away for a second . . . ?

  (He walks BILLY back into the storeroom.)

  BILLY: What is it, Chief. . . ?

  (Pause.)

  PRICE: When'd you decide you were going to go into the Air Force, Bill?

  BILLY: ’Bout, ‘bout a year ago, I . . .

  PRICE: After Chief Hopkins died.

  BILLY: Yes.

  PRICE: His death disturbed you.

  (Pause.)

  BILLY: Yes.

  PRICE: You wanted to get out of town?

  BILLY: Yes. My, my, my father, I wanted to, if I was going to go into the Police, to go right away, but my father said to finish High School, so I . . . (pause) so I . . . (pause) I . . . (Pause.) You know, when you want to do thing, when something happens, you know what I mean, when, when . . . (Pause.)

  PRICE: Where's the deer rifle, Billy? (Pause.)

  BILLY: What rifle?

  PRICE: What did you do, bury it? (Pause.) You buried it, is that it? Uh-huh, you don't have to tell me where it is. (Pause.) You were hunting with him? Is that the thing? He took you hunting? (Pause.) What did he do to you? (Pause.) Hmmm . . .

  BILLY: . . . I . . .

  PRICE: D'you mean to shoot him? (Pause.) Well, I suppose it comes down to the same thing. Doesn't it? (Pause.)

  BILLY: I . . . Oh God. I don't know what to do. I . . . I . . . (Pause.) I . . . It was . . . I didn't mean to . . .

  (Announcement over the P.A.: “The one o'clock bus from Lynn Junction is now arriving, passengers for Weston, Hereford, Blake, and Johnson. Your one o'clock bus arriving at the terminal.")

  What am I going to do; what am, what will happen to my family? I . . . I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it . . . no one can help me . . . no one can help me . . . what am I going to do . . . ? Help me . . . (pause) . . . Help me.

  (The door opens, they look up to see the PRIEST. Pause.)

  BILLY: Father . . . help me . . .

  PRIEST: The, uh, the bus is here. (Pause.) I came in to say the bus is here. Mr. Price . . . ?

  (He leaves. Beat.)

  PRICE: Uh-huh. Alright. What happened, that's something that happened. It's done. It's not your secret, see, I know it, too, ‘cause you confessed to me. And you know what I told you? Live with it. You told your story and the law don't want you. Far as I'm concerned. This never took place, you and me, you ask me, I deny it. Far as you, what happened, you told me it was a hunting accident, and I believe it. Suck it up and live with it. It happened a long time ago, and no one's going to be served by bringing it up. He said the bus is here.

  (PRICE walks to the door, he opens the door.)

  (ANGLE EXTERIOR: THE BUS LOADING. PRICE coming out, followed by BILLY.)

  FIREMAN: What, you getting some advice the Chief, here, Bill?

  (BILLY nods.)

  PRICE: So long, now . . .

  (BILLY gets on the bus.)

  PRIEST: What was that about?

  PRICE: Saying good-bye. (PRICE walks over to BARNES.) You said you have some information for me.

  BARNES: Fire Investigator, the State, says it's an electrical fire, pure and simple. No question.

  PRICE: Uh-huh. Well, I guess that I was wrong.

  BARNES (gestures): I . . . anything you want to tell me?

  PRICE: Nope.

  BARNES: You sure?

  PRICE: Nothing to tell. Isn't that the way, sometimes, you get het up, it all comes down to nothing. Just like you said.

  (The bus is pulling out. The PRIEST calls over to PRICE.)

  PRIEST: . . . you stop down by the Rectory tonight.

  PRICE: Yessir.

  (PRICE walks BARNES over to the squad car.)

  PRICE: I had a meeting with those real-estate folks; we can cancel it.

  BARNES: Alright. You want a ride back, Chief?

  PRICE: Think I'm going to walk.

  (The squad car pulls out, PRICE starts down the street. He walks past MRS. MOORE, who is coming out of a grocery store with a couple of bags.)

  ANNA: Ah. Supper tonight. Seven o'clock. Will your work keep you, do you think, or will you be home?

  PRICE: No, Ma'am. Seven o'clock. I'll be there.

  (She smiles, moves off. He walks down the street by himself. A PASSERBY nods at him.)

  PASSERBY: Chief . . .

  (PRICE nods in return.)

  The Museum of Science

  and Industry Story

  “Science and Industry Alter and Illuminate our Time.”

  —JOHN LEE BEATTY

  Dramatis Personae

  MUSEUM GUIDE

  ALBERT LITKO

  RUDY

  PIERRE

  JOHN

  CLORIS

  TIMMY O‘SHEA

  HARRY

  STOSH ZABISCO

  BO LUND

  LARS SVENSON

  DIETER GROSS

  POLICEMAN

  SECOND POLICEMAN

  POTAWATAMIES

  FARMERS

  MINERS

  A helicopter shot of the Museum of Science and Industry.

  MUSEUM GUIDE (voice over): . . . between the South Side community of Hyde Park, and Lake Michigan; a Recreation, an Educational experience, a Monument to Humankind's struggle to Rise from the Muck and Goo, and get the upperhand over its environment . . .

  (A shot of the foyer of the museum, by the main doors. The MUSEUM GUIDE is seen ushering out a group of Japanese businessmen, to whom he has been giving his lecture. [Their translator can be heard mumbling softly behind the lecture.] ALBERT LITKO, a good-looking fellow in his twenties, is seen on the upper level of the foyer, staring at the main doors.)

  . . . Chicago's famed Museum of Science and Industry . . .

  (The MUSEUM GUIDE continues to usher his charges out the main doors, along with other groups and individuals, who file out toward the parking lot. It is obviously closing time. An OLD WOMAN leaving the museum steps on ALBERT foot.)

  OLD WOMAN: I stepped on your foot.

  ALBERT: Mmmmm.

  (The OLD WOMAN continues on her way.)

  GUIDE: . . . home of the famous Two-Speed Clock; The Living Cantaloupe; . . . The U-505 Submarine (the First Foreign Man of War captured on the High Seas in a Coon's Age) . . .

  (The GUIDE continues as voice over, ALBERT is seen to leave his vantage point and move to the public telephones.)

  . . . Planes, Trains, all sorts of Weird Objects, various Exhibits, a Huge model Railroad, and stuff too numerous to mention; open most of the time to one and all, and now bidding you, each and every one, from the citizens of Chicago, to the denizens of famed Nippon, a fond “Sayonara.”

  (ALBERT is now seated at a phone, has dialed, and listens to ringing.)

  ALBERT: Hello?

  Where are you?

  Albert.

  Albert Litko.

  (As ALBERT talks we see the lights, section by section, being extinguished in the museum.)

  At the Museum.

  Waiting for you.

  Well, we did.

  We certainly did.

  Well, I thought we did.

  I'm sorry, too.

  At the Museum, I told you.

  It's okay. What are you doing tonight?

  Oh. (Long pause.)

  (The camera tracks through the upper level of the museum, shooting down at the main floor, revealing total absence of humanity, and darkness.)

  What are you doing tomorrow night?

  Oh.

  No. I'm not. I'm not.

&
nbsp; No. Don't be silly.

  No. Okay.

  I . . . uh . . . look, good-bye, okay?

  (The camera returns to ALBERT seated at the telephone.)

  I swear I'm not hurt. On my mother's deathbed. I swear.

  Okay. I will.

  Okay.

  Okay, good-bye.

  (The phone is obviously hung up on the other end. We hear a disconnect signal coming from the phone, which ALBERT still holds in his hand. A pause, then ALBERT utters an inchoate cry and whacks the telephone with the handset. We hear a slight “ding.” ALBERT checks the coin return and finds out that it's his dime.)

  Ha ha ha ha ha.

  (He hangs up the phone. He gets up and starts to walk, in a controlled and dignified manner, to the doors. The camera follows behind him. He arrives at the closed doors, tries the handle. It is locked. He tries another door, he tries the last door. He finds that he is, in fact, locked in. He screams and starts pounding on the door.)

  Vixen! Siren! I give my heart to you, I give my soul to you, I get locked in, it's dark (Oh, God, I'm such a sucker for a kind word) . . . I'm scared, it does not pay to get involved. I don't care, I'm going on record, I've said it, and I'm glad.

  (He stops pounding and composes himself. He adjusts his clothing and starts trying to find a way out of the museum. The camera follows him walking through the main hall. As he walks he mumbles.)

  . . . safety precautions . . .

  . . . inadequate crowd control . . .

  . . . social consciousness . . .

  . . . savoir faire . . .

  . . . ’predate me someday when I'm dead . . .

  (Over his mumbling we hear a voice singing “K. C. Moan.” ALBERT stops and tries to identify the direction from whence the voice comes. Having identified it, he proceeds toward it. The camera follows him into the hall containing the Santa Fe model railroad. The song has now changed to “The Atcheson Topeka, and the Santa Fe.” ALBERT follows the song around to the east end of the exhibit, and finds an old black man seated at the controls, singing. This is RUDY. He is dressed in traditional railroad work attire which is incredibly worn and old. He is working the controls. RUDY stops singing and begins shouting at the trains.)

  RUDY: ‘Kay, less gettem rollin’, ain't got all night. Lettem go, three cars. Three cars.

  ALBERT: ‘Scuse me.

  RUDY: Yup?

  ALBERT: I'm locked in.

  RUDY: Gest you was. (To exhibit:) Come on, hump those cars.

  ALBERT: Uh . . . uh, what are you doing?

  RUDY: Look like I'm doin? (To exhibit:) Now you talkin’. You talkin’ now. Keep rollin’. (To ALBERT:) I'm switchin’.

  ALBERT: Oh.

  RUDY (to exhibit): Two more, two more, lettem go. (To ALBERT:) Stan’ back there, willya, son?

  ALBERT: I'm locked in here.

  RUDY: I see that. (Hands him plug tobacco.) Have a chaw, feel better.

  ALBERT: No thank you, I don't chew.

  RUDY: Bes’ thing in the worl’, you loss, sit down, have a chaw, think things over.

  ALBERT: I'm not lost. I'm locked in.

  RUDY: ‘Mounts to the same thing. You jes’ here for the night, then.

  ALBERT: What do you mean?

  RUDY: All I mean, you jes’ here for the night. (To exhibit:) Whoa! Slow it down, there. Ho up. Ho up. Take a break. (To ALBERT:) We goan take a little break here. Chaw?

  ALBERT: Uh, no thank you.

  RUDY: Yes sir. Hell of a good deal workin’ indoors. Course, the trains are smaller . . .

  ALBERT: Uh huh . . .

  RUDY: But that's jes’ common sense. You gonna work indoors, you got reglar size rollin’ stock, you got to get y'self a buildin’ size of I don't know what. Huh?

  (ALBERT nods his head.)

  Ain't so bad in here. No. You only stayin’ the night, huh?

  ALBERT: I got locked in.

  RUDY: I been here mos’ eleven years. Nigh on twelve years. Yup.

  (RUDY leaves the control board and wanders to the real locomotive located about twenty feet from same. He seats himself at the controls, ALBERT follows him.)

  Close on twelve years. (Pause.) Pensioned off in Sixty, Ruth died Sixty . . . uh . . . Sixty-Two . . . wandered in here one day . . . Nineteen and Sixty-Three. I think I'm going to sing here.

  (RUDY sings “Rudy's Song.” A song of his fascination with trains since boyhood . . . of his wish to be an engineer ... of his youth working in

  Pullman cars . . . of his working as a fireman . . . of his wife, their marriage, their children . . . of his compulsory retirement, the death of his wife, and his old age. He finishes his song.)

  Yup.

  ALBERT: And so now you work for the Museum now? You work for the Museum Railroad?

  RUDY: I'm not an idiot, son. I'm old, but I got my senses intack. The Museum don't got a railroad, what the Museum got, the Museum got a model railroad.

  ALBERT: Yes.

  RUDY: Well, it's apparent. An’ I doan work for them . . .

  ALBERT: No?

  RUDY: No, I jes’ kind of . . . work here. I mean, what for they goan pay someone good cash come in here switch all the rollin’ stock at night? It's a useless expenditure their part. Huh?

  ALBERT: I suppose so.

  RUDY: No supposin’ in it. It's outright featherbedding. (An’ I have been a Union Man all my life, y'unnerstand, but some things I do not hold with.)

  ALBERT: Uh-huh.

  RUDY: What I mean, a man has got to have his pride (This is common knowledge). You stick him on a job he doan do nothin’ . . . I mean, you stick him on a job he doan do nothin’ all day long, all day long he got nothin’ to do. (You see what I'm sayin'?)

  ALBERT: Yes.

  RUDY: An’ in the same spirit, you take a man, prime of his life, not a goddamned thing in the worl’ the matter with him, an’ you tell him to punch out, go home, doan come back . . . well, I doan got to tell you what this is. (Pause.) So, in answer to your question, no, I do not work for the Museum, as any fool can plainly see.

  ALBERT: Oh.

  (Pause.)

  RUDY: I free-lance.

  ALBERT: Can you help me get outta here?

  RUDY: What?

  ALBERT: I want to go home.

  RUDY: Doan you go home, then?

  ALBERT: The Museum is locked.

  RUDY: Doan you relax, then? (See what I'm sayin'?) Come on, I'm goan take a break anyway. See if we can't get you out of here.

  (They leave the Santa Fe exhibit, and walk toward the Harvester Farm.)

  You ever live in the country?

  ALBERT: No. We lived in the suburbs a little.

  RUDY: Ain't the same thing.

  (A huge war cry is heard, and a boomerang narrowly misses RUDY‘s head.)

  (Loudly): Sonsabitches.

  PIERRE (voice over): Get you next time.

  RUDY: Hell you say. (He picks up boomerang. To ALBERT:) Sonabitch can't even get the goddam thing come back.

  (They walk on.)

  Born an’ raised in the country. Yup. Doan tell me ’bout country life. Uh-uh. Hate it in the country. Got out firs’ chance I got.

  (They approach the farm.)

  Smoke, noise, action, some kine movement . . . you see what I'm gettin’ at?

  ALBERT: Yes.

  RUDY: You hungry?

  ALBERT: I . . . uh . . . a little. I'm a bit confused.

  RUDY: You wan’ a chaw?

  ALBERT: No thank you.

  (They come upon a pastoral scene at the farm [appropriately enough]. Six or eight aged hippies dressed in denim overalls and grown a bit paunchy [perhaps led by Bruce Vilanch] are seated at a table covered with dishes full of candy bars, Twinkies, etc., and pitchers of Pepsi. JOHN, the leader of the farmers, approaches RUDY and ALBERT.)

  JOHN: Rudy.

  RUDY: Evenin’, John.

  JOHN: Who's your friend?

  RUDY: Frien’ of mine.

  ALBERT: Albert Litko, I got locked in.

  JOHN: Glad
to meet you.

  ALBERT: Likewise.

  JOHN: Sit down, sit down.

  (ALBERT sits down.)

  Make yourself at home, any friend of Rudy's is always welcome.

  RUDY: Glad to hear you say that, John.

  JOHN: Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.

  RUDY: That so?

  JOHN: Yes. (To ALBERT:) Dig in, dig in. Bet you aren't used to country food, eh?

  ALBERT: No.

  JOHN: No two ways about it. No substitute for it. Eh, Rudy?

  RUDY: Hate the country.

  JOHN: Cloris! Cloris, bring these boys some milk. (To ALBERT:) Never too old for milk.

  (CLORIS, an attractive woman in her early thirties, decked out in hippie farm fashion, appears with a pitcher full of Pepsi. CLORIS pours a glass of Pepsi for ALBERT.)

  ALBERT: This is not milk.

  JOHN: I know that.

  ALBERT: This is Pepsi.

  JOHN: Of course it's Pepsi. If you only use the common sense God gave you you will see that yonder cows are about as fradulent as they could ever be. They're made of wood. They cannot give milk. We know this.

  RUDY: Can't get milk from a cow like that.

  ALBERT: I see that.

  RUDY: Only thing you get is disappointed.

  ALBERT: I can see that.

  JOHN (to ALBERT): Would you please pass the milk pitcher. (ALBERT does so; to assembled FARMERS:) Friends, I think it would not be inappropriate at this point to offer a small display of gratitude for this meal which we enjoy.

  (The FARMERS stop and sing “The Farmers Song.” The song of how good it is to get back to the land and discover one's roots and embrace nature. When they finish their song, ALBERT pulls RUDY aside and interrogates him.)

  ALBERT: Who are these people?

  RUDY: Farmers. Live in the Farm.

  ALBERT: Uh, where do they come from?

  RUDY: Mosly they folk wander over from the University Chicago, side to stay.

  ALBERT: What are they doing here?

  RUDY: They farmin’. That one he puts bunches of knots in string, and they got a girl signed to make up poems ‘bout the reaper. They real into handicraft.

  (JOHN rises and sings “The Song of the Arid Intellectual Life.” The following dialogue takes place in back of his first chorus:)

  ALBERT: But they can't live off farming.

  RUDY: They live off th’ vending machines downstairs.

  ALBERT: Oh.

  RUDY: See, you got John a little mad, talkin’ bout the milk. Milk machine's buss, so they got to drink Pepsi.