“PEOPLE KNOW”
by OPOVV, ©2013
(Sep. 30, 2013) — The stage is bare except for an old battered wooden government desk, center stage left, piled high with papers and two phones, one being used by a disheveled man, fifty-ish, grey hair, mustache, wearing a policeman’s uniform, coat opened, with Sergeant stripes, sitting in a government-issued wooden chair, facing stage right. The only other prop is a coat rack with the sergeant’s hat. The backdrop is a black curtain. The only light is a reading light on the desk.
Act 1
“Lateran, flashlight, what’s the difference? Look, the old guy was wandering around at night, coming up to people and asking if they’ve seen an ‘honest man,’ can you believe it? Scaring the daylights out of the tourists and the druggies, that’s who.”
“Well, we first heard of him around the Washington Monument, but we didn’t catch up to him until the Lincoln Memorial.”
“Of course we arrested him. What charge? Trying to find honesty here in Washington, the capitol of dishonesty, if there ever was one, and there is, right here.”
“Naw, had to let him go. He had all his papers and he wasn’t drunk, so we sent him on his way; he seemed harmless enough.”
“What’s that? He mentioned Whitewater? And Benghazi? Okay, okay, we made a mistake, we should’ve kept him here.”
“Not here? You mean, as an ‘accident’, what kind of ‘accident’? Oh, yeah, we can do that easily enough.”
“‘Tourist, unfamiliar with traffic patterns, was a victim of a hit-and-run in the vicinity of Dupont Circle,’ how’s that? My car. Needs a paint job anyway.”
“Don’t mention it. No problem, things happen, you know? Unfortunate, that’s all. Another tourist bites the dust, page fifteen, no kin, no nothing. A nobody.”
“Any time.”
“You’re welcome.”
The light on desk dims, then goes out.
Act 2
Stage same setup as before, except the desk and chair are new, clear of papers, one phone, desk light on. Sergeant in full dress uniform, hat on, award ribbon around his neck. In lieu of hat rack, American flag stands. The Sergeant is on the phone with extra-long extension cord, pacing the stage, facing the audience now and then.
“Why, thank you, Madam, always glad to do what needs to be done.”
“Yes, we must protect our homeland, for if we don’t, there’s no one else, now is there?”
“Oh, now, I can’t tell secrets over the phone, now, can I? But let me say that I’m very proud to have served you, yes, I am. My wife admires you so.”
“Oh, I agree. These protesters and Birthers have to go; yes, they certainly have to go.”
“Well, we rough them up a little, not too much, no broken bones or anything like that, or, maybe just a few broken bones. No, we don’t go anywhere near ‘The Wall’ after dark, and neither do the muggers.”
“Way, way too dangerous, that’s why. Well, it’s not worth it, that’s why. The tourists stay away after dark anyway so the only ones that go there, after dark, are the hard cases. The real hard cases go in the middle of a torrential downpour or a blizzard at 3:00 a.m.”
“Look, I helped you out when you needed help, but my Momma didn’t raise no fool. I ain’t going anywhere near there after dark, especially at 3:00 a.m., citation award ceremony or not. You can come and take your medal back, you can. I’ve nothing to do with people who know the difference between legal and illegal orders and who know the Constitution.”
“Live and let live, I say, and so should you.”
“Yeah, I hear what they’re saying. I keep my ear to the ground: you and Obama let those guys die in Benghazi and you’ve spent more than a year covering it up, but people know.”
“People know.”
Light on desk dims, then goes out.
Fini
OPOVV