31 Plays in 31 Days - Day #9 "A Fair Trade"

This is based on The Stand, and a scene from a possible play I could write about PC Carson Hill, about the first time he ever met PC Emma Holloway, the young black woman he employs in his saloon. This scene is somewhat spoilery for the game, but to minimize that, I will say that Carson feels a huge sense of guilt that fires up upon meeting her, and drives his behavior in the scene.

Day #9 - "A Fair Trade"

CARSON HILL, formerly a lawyer, now opening a cowboy saloon out west
EMMA HOLLOWAY, a runaway slave
~~~

(CARSON is closing up his bar at the end of the night. As he cleans up, he hears a knocking. He pauses a moment and listens. The knocking comes again.)

CARSON: Sorry, we’re closed.

EMMA: (Off-stage) Just need a moment! Please!

(CARSON exits briefly, as if going to a door, and backs up onto the stage as EMMA enters, dressed in tatters. He stares at her.)

EMMA: Beg pardon for pushing in. Just that I’m mortal hungry. I thought a body could have a bite here.

(CARSON stares.)

EMMA: I ain’t got three heads.

CARSON: Oh! Forgive me, I… I, uh… there isn’t much I’ve only just opened up… but, uh…

(He searches behind the bar and digs up some biscuits.)

CARSON: The sheriff’s wife brought these. You’re welcome to them.

(EMMA takes them after a moment and begins to eat. CARSON watches her with trepidation.)

EMMA: I’ve got money.

CARSON: Oh— no, no.

EMMA: I pay my way!

CARSON: It isn’t that.

EMMA: Ain’t you never seen a negro before? We eat the same as anybody.

CARSON: No— it’s just been a while. I mean… I never met one in Reston before.

EMMA: I’m new out west.

CARSON: How did you come here?

EMMA: On the boat that come through the canal.

CARSON: Is that so? That’s… that’s a long way. What brings you here?

EMMA: Same reason as all folks, I reckon. Making a new start.

(Pause.)

EMMA: You’re awful curious.

CARSON: I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrogate.

EMMA: I be moving on soon.

CARSON: Moving on? Do you have any place to stay?

EMMA: Never you mind.

CARSON: No… it’s only… it’s a rough place out there. To have nowhere to go.

EMMA: I make my way.

CARSON: I’m sure.

(He paces off, then rushes back over to her.)

CARSON: You want a job?

EMMA: Beg pardon?

CARSON: If you don’t have anywhere else to go, you might work here.

EMMA: Don’t need your charity, I’m sure.

CARSON: I could use the help. I’m new out west too, and new to keeping a
place like this. Can you cook?

EMMA: Yep.

CARSON: Well, I can’t. Can you serve up a plate?

EMMA: Course I can.

CARSON: The bar could use a maid. You seem like you can meet a hard day’s work.

EMMA: Harder than you ever.

CARSON: I don’t doubt that. I’ll pay you a fair wage, and you can stay here if you like.

EMMA: Why you so hot to have me?

CARSON: I think we both could use a fair trade. Just… trying to do something right.

(EMMA considers.)

EMMA: I could take a fair wage.

CARSON: Thanks very much, miss… I don’t even know your name.

EMMA: Emma.

CARSON: Good to have you, Emma. The name’s Hill. Carson Hill.

(After a moment, he extends his hand to shake, uncertainly. She regards it, then warily reaches out and takes it.)

Biweekly Theater Writing Challenge: Ain't Pity

Yesterday I submitted the second packet of homework for my thesis, which included the second quarter of the play I'm writing about some of the outlaws in The Stand. I haven't been posting those pieces here because at this stage it's mostly what some writers call a "vomit draft," where you just throw every idea you have out on the page with the intent to clean it up later. I don't think I'll show you that until I get a chance to go over it with a chainsaw, as I expect it to be substantially different.

But it got me thinking about my Stand-related theater. Another full-length play I could write could be about PC Carson Hill, the protagonist of The Triumph of Law which will get a reading on public access TV this April. I had a few scratching of a new scene for it, and though it is still only a fragment, very much out of context, it follows up on the issue brought up in The Triumph of Law. It also features Emma Holloway, another PC from the game, making her debut in my Stand-related theater. This spoils a major secret in the game, so read only if you don't care or can't be spoiled.

Fragment: "Ain't Pity"

EMMA: I don’t want no pity of yours.

CARSON: Ain’t pity.

EMMA: Bollocks.

CARSON: Swear it. It’s just… the right thing to do.

EMMA: Yeah? The fancy white fella showing good care on the li’l negro gal?

CARSON: For Christ’s sake, no! I’m just doing what I owed you.

EMMA: Owed me? What do you mean, you owed me?

CARSON: I… I did wrong by you once. Real wrong. I didn’t know I was doing it, but I did.

EMMA: What are you talking about?

CARSON: It was a long time ago.

EMMA: How’s that ever so? I ain’t never laid eyes on you before this town.

CARSON: No, but… I helped somebody do something real bad once. Somebody who was real bad to you.

EMMA: Who?

CARSON: I didn’t know, I swear it!

EMMA: Who was it?

CARSON: I can’t—!

EMMA: For Jesus’ sake, Carson Hill!

(CARSON turns on a gas lamp, then slides a letter across the table to her. She glances at it, then glares.)

EMMA: You know I can’t read a word.

CARSON: I know. It’s only… the name signed here. You must have seen it before. Do you know it?

EMMA: I know the shape of it… that’s… that’s Richard Corbett’s name. You done something for Richard Corbett?

CARSON: Yes.

EMMA: All kind of white folks happy to take that beast’s money. Why you any different?

CARSON: Emma… you told me what happened to your brother. To Jeremiah.

EMMA: They brought him back after he went running and set the dogs on him.

CARSON: That’s it, Emma. When Jeremiah ran, he’d made it all the way to New York when they caught him. A free state. But that man Corbett wouldn’t give him up. He wanted New York to send his property back. So he went to the court, made his petition. Nobody thought they’d give him what he was after. Except he hired himself a young crackerjack lawyer, who argued so well they gave Corbett him and all the other boys back. So he could send them back home to die.

EMMA: How you know about all that?

CARSON: I was that lawyer, Emma. That dumb hotshot that hadn’t a care for nothing but making his career. I sent your brother back to his death.

(EMMA stares at him, frozen.)

The Stand play series - "Going Back"

Guess what, I wrote another short play based on The Stand! This one's very rough; it was tricky to write and I don't feel like I got the period diction down this time. But it depicts a very dramatic moment in the backstory of Carson Hill, one of my favorite PCs in The Stand. This one is also very spoilery, so read only if you've played the game. It's going to take a lot of editing, but I like the idea of it a lot. I made myself bang it out even though it was hard, which is the important first step to getting a play made.

The Stand play series - "Going Back"

(An old-fashioned study in the back room of the Barrister Tavern. CARSON HILL stands in his suspenders and rebuttons his shirt. MAYELLA SINCLAIR, in her slip, sits on the chaise and mopes.)

CARSON: Are you sure you can stay this late?

MAYELLA: Oh, certainly. Arlen’s out late with the hands again tonight. He’s always preferred their company to mine.

CARSON: And Rebecca?

MAYELLA: Her nursemaid’s about if she needs anything. She’s far better with the girl than I’ve ever been.

CARSON: You seem glum tonight.

MAYELLA: Oh, I’m always glum. It’s my nature.

CARSON: More so than usual, then.

MAYELLA: I suppose my typical diversions have failed to distract me.

CARSON: Isn’t that what I’m for?

MAYELLA: Well, you’re doing no good for me tonight. I’m so bored I could die.

CARSON: You wound me, ma’am. Is something new wrong?

MAYELLA: It’s only that… things… things haven’t gone quite as I planned.

CARSON: Planned? What do you mean?

MAYELLA: Oh, nothing. Just my malaise. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. Nothing ever happens on this empty range.

CARSON: I’ve never minded that.

MAYELLA: I don’t see how. I’ve never understood why a man of your breeding and education would stay in a town like this.

CARSON: What makes you think I’ve got any breeding or education?

MAYELLA: Come now, darling, I’m no fool. It may escape most of the bumpkins around these parts, but I’m from real society. It takes only a few words with you to give you away.

CARSON: I see.

MAYELLA: And one look around here is enough. This isn’t any cowboy roadhouse.

CARSON: Nobody’s ever back here except you.

(MAYELLA rises and goes to the bookshelf over the desk to rifle through the contents.)

MAYELLA: See, you have too many books to be just another roughneck. And… is this a playbill for The Spanish Tragedy? Where did you ever see this?

(He takes the playbill out of her hands and files it back on the bookshelf.)

CARSON: Mayella. It’s not polite to pry into a man’s things.

(She sighs exaggeratedly.)

MAYELLA: Fine. I suppose this place has worn away my manners. Of course, I have always given you your privacy. I never pried all those times you avoided telling me where you came from to this godforsaken town.

CARSON: It’s not something I like to talk about.

MAYELLA: I know, you’ve made that clear.

CARSON: It isn’t all theaters and galas back in the cities, you know. Where you get society, you also get a lot of shady fellows trying to take advantage of it.

(CARSON turns away as he speaks. While his back is turned, MAYELLA begins looking through the items in the shelf and desk again.)

CARSON: It’s peaceful out here. I like that peace. No… hustle and bustle. No scheming politicians. No wrangling for control, no twisting the law into knots. Just a lot of cowboys working to make a living.

(MAYELLA finds a letter. She unfolds and begins to read it.)

CARSON: Sure, it’s dull, sometimes, but I say it’s a fair change of pace.

(CARSON turns back around to see her reading the letter.)

CARSON: Jesus Christ, Mayella, what are you doing? Give me that, now.

(He reaches for the letter but she yanks it out of the way.)

MAYELLA: This is a letter… from your father? Jackson Hill, esquire? Yelling at you to come back home and take up your responsibility before you shame the family name?

CARSON: I asked you not to go through my things.

MAYELLA: What responsibility? What have you done?

CARSON: That is none of your never mind!

MAYELLA: This letter is from Albany! You got rich family back in Albany? This is what you’ve been keeping from me?

CARSON: Mayella—

MAYELLA: Carson, you tell me what this is right this minute!

(CARSON glares at her for a moment, then relents.)

CARSON: All right. All right, Mrs. Sinclair. You always wanted to know what brought me out to the territory. Well, I’ll tell you. You’re right, Mayella. I do come from breeding and money. My family runs one of the biggest tobacco plantations in George, and my pap was the head of the toniest law firm in Albany. I was going to follow after him. I was a prodigy. Graduated Harvard at sixteen, aced every other fellow in law school. I had everything in the world ahead of me.

MAYELLA: You’re a lawyer come from money, and you’re running some saloon out here?

CARSON: That isn’t the end of it. To make my fortune, my uncle sent a man from a neighboring plantation who wanted me to represent him in a case. Mr. Richard Corbett, a cotton baron, a real high roller down south. He wanted the state of New York to return five runaway slaves to him that had escaped past the border. The state didn’t want to return them. But I argued that case, used every legal trick in my book, and I got them back. Was a hell of a piece of lawyering, I’ll say that myself. And Corbett was pleased. He invited me down to his place in thanks. I hadn’t been on a plantation in a long time… and I saw what it was really like. All those slaves working themselves to the bone under the whips of their masters. Suffering, dying... I turned to Corbett and asked him what he did with the property I returned to him. He told me he had them beaten and set the dogs on them to make an example to the others. All because of what I did. I got them sent back to that hell. And there I was, feeling like I’d killed them myself, when all anybody could talk about was what a triumph of law I’d accomplished.

(Pause.)

CARSON: So that’s it, Mayella. That’s why I ran out here. That’s the culture and society that I came out here from.

(MAYELLA claps her hands over her mouth. She starts wordlessly laughing.)

CARSON: What’s gotten into you?

MAYELLA: Carson— what are you frowning over? This— this is wonderful!

CARSON: What? No, it ain’t!

MAYELLA: Don’t you see? We can go back. We can get away from this cow town forever.

CARSON: What are you talking about?

MAYELLA: You’ve got a place there, your father wants you back.

CARSON: He’s mad as hell at me for running off! He doesn’t understand what it did to me.

MAYELLA: There’s something for you back there! Money, family, society! You could take me away from here. We could get married and have a real life!

CARSON: Married? You’re already married!

MAYELLA: I don’t care about Arlen, he dragged me out to the middle of nowhere and forgot about me!

CARSON: He’s still your husband.

MAYELLA: I’ll get a divorce. You’re a lawyer, you could divorce us!

CARSON: You want that scandal on your head?

MAYELLA: Once we’re back east, that won’t matter! Who’ll give a damn about a scandal out on some frontier?

CARSON: And what about Rebecca? Doesn’t she matter?

MAYELLA: I don’t want to think about her anymore!

CARSON: How can you say that? She’s your child, for God’s sake!

MAYELLA: I’m no good to anyone like this, much less that girl.

CARSON: You can’t just leave your own child.

MAYELLA: Carson, this place is killing me! You’ve got to get me out of here!

CARSON: Mayella, I’m not going.

MAYELLA: What do you mean?

CARSON: Don’t you understand? I couldn’t bear that life anymore. I came out here to escape all that.

MAYELLA: How could you choose life in this nowhere to having a place somewhere real?

CARSON: Because out here there ain’t nobody celebrating the worst thing I ever did! I’d run to Russia if that’s what it took to never know that again.

MAYELLA: But… I thought you loved me. I thought you loved me enough to save me. Don’t you?

(CARSON is silent.)

MAYELLA: Of course not. Of course not.

CARSON: I care you for you, Mayella. And I’m sorry you feel so trapped. But I am never going back there. Not for you, not for anybody.

(MAYELLA looks at him in uncomprehending shock for a moment. Then she starts shaking and breaking into hysterics.)

MAYELLA: No. No. You can’t… you can’t just leave me here! You can’t just condemn me to this place!

CARSON: Mayella, be reasonable.

MAYELLA: I thought you’d be the one to save me from all this. But you’re abandoning me when I need you!

CARSON: Hush up, someone will hear you.

(He goes to her to quiet her, but she struggles.)

MAYELLA: You’ll regret this, my love. You’ll be so sorry for what you’ve done to me. You’ll see!

CARSON: Mayella, you’re talking crazy!

MAYELLA: Just wait. Just wait, Carson Hill. You’ll see. You’ll see. You’re going to regret this, mark my words.

(She shoves him off, grabs the rest of her clothes in an armful, and runs out. CARSON collapses on the chaise and rakes back his hair, stricken.)

31 Plays in 31 Days: #11 - "The Triumph of Law"

And we're back to plays based on The Stand! Apologies again that this one also contains a spoiler from the game. This one is about the backstory of Carson Hill, the PC played thus far by , , and . There's not much I can say about it at the moment, except that I think the ending needs work, but I think this is a very dramatic scene. Again I kind of took it for granted that you knew what they were talking about, so I hope it still reads.

Day #11 - "The  Triumph of Law"

(Three southern gentlemen in suits sit around a table. The two older men, brothers JACKSON and PRESTON HILL, celebrate with whiskey, while the younger man, CARSON HILL, sits staring moodily with his tumbler untouched before him.)

JACKSON: This is it, this is it! Carson, my boy, you’ve done it!

PRESTON: To states’ rights and Carson’s victory!

JACKSON: To the triumph of law!

(They cheer, raise their glasses, and drink. PRESTON then pours them another.)

JACKSON: Hill and Hill Associates… sweet Jesus, I always dreamed of this day. They’re going to be citing this case for decades to come. Any suit about returning runaway slaves, hell, any states’ rights case that comes along, they’re going to trot out Corbett versus the State of New York and that’ll be the end of it. This could be the making of your career already. Who knows what’ll come next? Judgeships, political office… hell, my boy could be a senator someday!

PRESTON: I always knew you’d take them Yankees by storm!

JACKSON: And you made quite an impression on your esteemed client as well.

PRESTON: I’m telling you, boy, it ain’t just anyone that Richard Corbett invites down to his plantation to meet his lovely daughter. Got a high estimation of you and no mistake.

CARSON: Must be.

PRESTON: And how about that Miss Lilah? Pretty little thing, wasn’t she?

CARSON: Sure was.

PRESTON: I hope you were a proper gentleman to her. If she takes a shine to you like her old man has, well, you might just get yourself in a position to inherit the whole place one day!

JACKSON: That’s quite a little kingdom to come into! Look at you, son, you’ll be a king in Georgia, and a conqueror in New York!

(They click glasses and laugh uproariously. CARSON forces a sickly smile.)

JACKSON: What’s the matter with you, now? You been frowning like a bullfrog ever since you got back. Things went well, didn’t they?

CARSON: Not certain I’d say that they did?

JACKSON: What? What happened?

CARSON: Been back east all this time, haven’t been on a plantation in so long. Wasn’t prepared.

PRESTON: For what?

CARSON: Seeing them. All the… all the slaves. Never saw so many before. Old ones, sick ones, covered with scars… pretty awful.

PRESTON: You’re from a plantation family, boy, you know we run on slaves.

CARSON: Yeah, but… I haven’t seen it, not with my own eyes…

JACKSON: Is that all that’s bothering you?

CARSON: No. I… I heard what happened to those boys.

JACKSON: What boys?

CARSON: Those boys we got sent back to Mr. Corbett.

JACKSON: You mean the runaways? What of them?

CARSON: I asked him what became of them when they got back. He told me he had them all killed.

(JACKSON is mildly surprised, but PRESTON shrugs.)

PRESTON: Did he, now? Well, sometimes it’s necessary. Make an example to the others.

CARSON: That’s exactly what Mr. Corbett said.

PRESTON: I’m sure he did. He knows how to run his own concern.

CARSON: We sent them back to their deaths.

JACKSON: Carson, be reasonable. Sometimes a man’s got to take drastic steps to take care of his own business. If he had to put a little discipline down—

(CARSON leaps out of his chair.)

CARSON: Pap! He beat them within an inch of their lives, and then he set a pack of dogs on them! They were ripped limb from limb!

PRESTON: Sure, that’s rough. But ain’t nobody going to run from that plantation anytime soon.

CARSON: Jesus Christ.

PRESTON: It’s the way of things.

CARSON: It’s sick.

JACKSON: What’s gotten into you, boy? Weak stomach all of a sudden? Well, you’d best get a handle on that if you’re going to move forward with your career.

CARSON: Can’t do it. Not anymore.

JACKSON: Can’t do what?

CARSON: I can’t… strut around Albany like I’m cock-o’-the-walk knowing that… this is what everybody respects me for. Fighting so hard to get five boys sent back to a whip and a pack of dogs.

JACKSON: Look here, now. I’m sorry you had to see the ugly side of things, but Carson, every case isn’t going be about slave law. You don’t got time to wrestle with a soft heart, you got a chance to make history here. You got to seize that chance while you can. This is just one case—

CARSON: No, Pap. You don’t understand. Everywhere I go, it’s all anybody can talk about. It’s the headline of every newspaper. How clever I was, how well I argued my case that the state was obligated to return Mr. Corbett’s property to him. “Congratulations, Carson.” “Job well done, Carson.” All I was thinking about was the law, and making it work for me, and the reward that would come once I did. But now… all I got is the blood of those boys on me. They wouldn’t have even been there if I hadn’t argued for it! And now they’re using my win as precedent for other cases against runaways. There are going to be others just like them. That’s my legacy, Pap. Sending boys back to Hell!

PRESTON: Jesus Christ, Carson!

JACKSON: Just what are you saying?

CARSON: I’m saying… I’m done. Done with the law, done with New York and Georgia, done with all of this. I’m moving out west. As far as out as I can go.

JACKSON: And why in God’s name would you do a thing like that?

CARSON: To get as far away as I can from all this. And from you.

PRESTON: You ungrateful wretch! What are you going to do out on some dusty godforsaken frontier? There ain’t no law out there!

CARSON: So much the better.

PRESTON: Have you lost your mind!? What about your career?

CARSON: I don’t want a career built out of dead boys’ bones.

JACKSON: You’d throw everything you ever worked for away… and everything we gave you so you could get there? You were such a smart boy, Carson, you was destined for something big. At sixteen you graduated Harvard Law at the top of your class. Your uncle sent this case your way to help you make your fortune. And you made it, Carson, you made it so that every jurist in the country is going to know your name. This could take you anywhere— the Supreme Court, to Washington, even to the White House someday. And you’d throw it all away for a pack of runaway niggers!?

CARSON: No, Pap. For five murdered men.

(CARSON turns on his heel and storms out.)