Monday, August 6, 2012

31 Plays in 31 Days: #6 - "Public Enemy"

Who would have thought that my biggest source of inspiration for short plays would be the backstory of The Stand? I was always proud with how rich the storyline for that game was, and as I cast about for subject matter for this writing challenge, I find there are many scenes from the larp that are perfect for dramatizing. I have done three already, two in this month alone, and I expect there will be many more. Maybe I can use that connectedness for performance reasons, and someday produce an evening of Stand-related theater.

That said, the following scene, unlike the other two, is EXTREMELY SPOILERY FOR THE GAME. If you have not played The Stand and someday intend to, do not read this piece. For those who have played, it may interest you to know that it involves two important NPCs, Amelia Royce, the wife of the sheriff, and Caleb Coleman, a rival to the Sinclair Company in the local cattle business.



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Day #6 - "Public Enemy"

SETTING: 1847, the small cattle town of Reston in the Northern California Territory

(CALEB COLEMAN, a wealthy middle-aged gentleman, sits at the desk in his study. AMELIA ROYCE, a nice-looking woman, simply dressed, enters deferentially.)


AMELIA: Mr. Coleman?

CALEB: Why, Mrs. Amelia Royce! What brings you out here?

AMELIA: Forgive me for just showing up, I’m sure you’re real busy, but I was hoping you might have a moment to speak with me.

CALEB: Always got a moment for the charming wife of the sheriff. Please, come sit.

(AMELIA takes a seat across the desk from him and smooths her skirt.)

AMELIA: Thanks very much for your time, sir.

CALEB: It’s good to see you. I’ve been meaning to say thank you for that mighty fine pie you sent over. I am right partial to cherries.

AMELIA: It were for all that money you gave to Bonnie Harper’s charity. A pie’s a small token for that.

CALEB: Oh, think nothing of it.

AMELIA: It was a right generous thing for you to do, Mr. Coleman.

CALEB: Well, thank you kindly for saying so, ma’am.

AMELIA: My husband is happy to see so more and more decent citizens moving out west here.

CALEB: Reston’s been lucky to have him come out too. They say he’s the best in the territory.

AMELIA: Well, at chasing varmints at least.

CALEB: He’s got a hell of a record for that. Nobody else could’ve cornered Red Jed Palmer in that cider mill, and chased the Mad Indian through six miles of burning countryside. He collared all of them.

AMELIA: Except for one. Deadeye Damon Barrett. You know about him?

CALEB: Everybody knows about him. He’s got a hell of a price on his head.

AMELIA: He was the real outlaw. Tricking townies, outriding cowboys, better shot than the governor’s best marshals. Malcolm chased him for years, but never did catch him. We still don’t know what became of him.

CALEB: I reckoned he was dead. Nobody’s seen hide nor hair of him in ages.

AMELIA: Well, they’re not about to forget about him. Not after he knocked over that US Treasury wagon. Folks still talk about it.

CALEB: Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It were the biggest robbery pulled in the territory since the US took it on.

AMELIA: I know— one hears things as the sheriff’s wife. Sometimes the little details that don’t get in the papers.

CALEB: That so?

AMELIA: Yes, sir. You see, it was something at the Easter picnic. I heard some of you fellows talking about that robbery. I remember you saying that… that Deadeye run off with ten thousand dollars in bullion. Is that so?

CALEB: That’s what I said.

AMELIA: That’s just it, you see. That weren’t in the papers, Mr. Coleman.

CALEB: What? I’m sure that can’t be.

AMELIA: I’m sure that it is, sir.

CALEB: Well… must be I heard it somewhere, I traveled around.

AMELIA: And then you turn up in town one day, richer than almost anybody.

CALEB: What are you saying, Mrs. Royce?

(AMELIA takes a crumpled piece of newspaper out of her handbag, smooths it carefully, and lays it on the desk.)

AMELIA: There ain’t no good pictures, so they weren’t enough to be sure. But when I heard what you said… I got sure. I think your name ain’t Caleb Coleman. I think it’s Damon Barrett.

(CALEB looks down and grows very still. He makes a fist on the desk.)

CALEB: It’s been thirteen years since anybody called me by that name. Thirteen years since I left that life.

(He rakes a hand through his hair.)

CALEB: Can I count on Sheriff Royce coming up after you to march me away in cuffs?

AMELIA: He doesn’t know. I haven’t told him.

CALEB: You didn’t? And… why would you do a thing like that?

AMELIA: I wanted to talk to you my own self first.

(CALEB rises from his chair and paces a little, finally pausing with his back to AMELIA.)

CALEB: Tell me, Amelia, ma’am… am I what you thought I’d be? Face to face with the most hunted man in the western territories… is this what you expected?

AMELIA: No. No, nothing like that.

(He marches up close and stares her down.)

CALEB: So how can you think you can march into my house play judge and jury on me like you know who I am?

AMELIA: Sir. I came out here, a woman alone, to accuse a man of being the most feared bandit in the west. Do you think I would have done that if I thought him just a beast? Do you think I don’t mean to give him a fair chance?

(He takes a few steps back. AMELIA stands.)

AMELIA: So here’s your chance. What should I make of you, Mr. Barrett? Wild, wanted Deadeye Damon Barrett?

(Some of the ire goes out of him and he deflates a little.)

CALEB: I know you got no reason to cut me any slack. Everything you heard about me, all the cons I pulled, all the crimes I did… they’re all on my head, I ain’t going to deny it. Any woman in your place would hand me over to her lawman husband on a silver platter and see it make his career.

AMELIA: Not to mention protecting folks from a public enemy.

CALEB: Right you are. But, ma’am… I ain’t no public enemy. Not anymore. I’m no danger to people. On the contrary, you said it yourself, I been good for this town. I gave jobs to decent men. I been generous, I gave cash to folks what needed it. Ain’t I?

AMELIA: Yes. Yes, you have.

CALEB: I done good since I got here, Mrs. Royce. The first real good I ever done anybody in my life.

AMELIA: And that means you’ve atoned? For everything you’ve done?

CALEB: Might not be, ma’am. Might be I got a long way to go before I’m right with Jesus. But I can’t do no good to anybody in a cell. Or swinging off the end of a rope.

AMELIA: A lot of folks suffered for what you did.

CALEB: I know. And I quit because I regretted that. Because I wanted to put a stop to that. I know it don’t make up for it, but I suffered for it too.

AMELIA: How? All those lawmen chasing after you with their guns—

CALEB: You think I mean about comfort and safety? That ain’t nothing of what that life cost me!

(He struggles a moment, then reaches into the pocket of his waistcoat and withdraws a lock of brown hair tied with a blue ribbon. He tosses it down on the desk. Carefully AMELIA picks it up and examines it.)

AMELIA: Oh, Caleb… Damon… was she…?

CALEB: The sheriff ain’t the only one to judge me for what I did. And that’s one hell of a penance from where I stand. You remember that when you go home into the arms of the husband that loves you.

(AMELIA considers, then carefully goes to CALEB and places the lock of hair back in his hand.)

AMELIA: Malcolm doesn’t have to know.

CALEB: You mean that?

AMELIA: I do. You got a long way ahead of you before you atone. I ain’t going to stop you now.

CALEB: Thank you.

AMELIA: This you can’t quit. You can’t ever quit.

CALEB: I won’t. I swear it.

(CALEB presses the fist clasping the lock hair to his chest. AMELIA nods.)

AMELIA: Good day, then. Mr. Coleman.

CALEB: Thank you, Mrs. Royce.

(AMELIA exits. CALEB collapses against his desk.)

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