BY WILLIAM G. BOOTH
Copyright © by William G. Booth. All rights reserved. Published with permission from the author. Inquiries concerning rights should be addressed to William G. Booth at WmGBooth@gmail.com.
Presented October 23, 2015 | Kenan Theatre, UNC Department of Dramatic Art | Directed by Talya Klein
Original cast members are in brackets.
STUART CROSBY 26, male. An ambitious investment analyst [James Scalise].
GARRETT CUNNINGHAM 52, male. Vice president of an investment firm [John Paul Middlesworth].
SEBASTIAN GREEN 57, male. President of an investment firm [Michael Shannon].
1929. Wall Street investment office.
On an office. Outside the window is a spectacular view of the Brooklyn Bridge. There is a desk with a telephone and a closed briefcase.
GARRETT CUNNINGHAM, dressed in fine business attire, stares out the window.
STUART CROSBY, equally well dressed, but disheveled, ENTERS tentatively with a pile of papers.
CROSBY Mister Cunningham? I’ve compiled my findings. . . .
[Cunningham does not respond.]
CROSBY Sir?
CUNNINGHAM [continuing to stare out the window] I hear you, Crosby.
CROSBY I didn’t have time to edit, so I apologize if it’s a little rough around the edges.
CUNNINGHAM Looks fine to me.
CROSBY Sir, you haven’t even seen it.
[Cunningham, WALKING WITH A NOTICEABLE LIMP, comes around the desk and over to Crosby. He hardly gives the papers a glance.]
CUNNINGHAM Still looks fine.
CROSBY How about I summarize it for you, Sir?
CUNNINGHAM Good idea.
[Cunningham returns to his seat.]
CROSBY Well, we’re pinned down right now. . . . and will lose the battle today, but. . . .
GREEN [offstage] Everything in order, Garrett?
[SEBASTIAN GREEN dressed in professional attire, ENTERS.]
[Startled, Crosby DROPS his papers, immediately bends down to recover them. Cunningham is unresponsive.]
GREEN I haven’t seen anyone drop to the ground that fast since I was in the Third.
[Cunningham’s detachment tests Green’s patience.]
GREEN Garrett, this isn’t the moment to be the strong, silent type, you better open your goddamn mouth.
CROSBY Actually Sir, we were just discussing our. . . . situation.
[Crosby gives Cunningham a nod. It goes unnoticed. Crosby holds out the papers to Green.]
CROSBY As you can see, we can have a solid hedge strategy preventing further losses this quarter and then into next.
GREEN I’m sorry, Mister. . . . ?
CROSBY Crosby, Stuart Crosby. We met in your office a couple of weeks ago. I advised we invest in Coca-Cola.
GREEN [irritated] Garrett?
[Cunningham taps the briefcase on the desk and gives a nod. His eyes meet Green’s. Relief washes over Green; his demeanor cools.]
GREEN And how is Coca-Cola faring? A lead balloon like the others, I assume.
CROSBY To be honest, Sir, it’s actually doing quite well.
GREEN Well then, good call. Glad to know I have the best and brightest working for me.
CROSBY Thank you, Mr. Green. I’m glad to be on the frontlines alongside you.
GREEN The pleasure is all mine. I better get going. Denise has been holding off investor calls. They want to know how their money grew legs and ran off. Got to hold off the onslaught.
CROSBY How about I man the phones, Mr. Green? [holding up his papers] I can answer their questions.
GREEN As I understand it, they’d prefer to hear the voice of the president of Green Wealth Management. But I will say, Crosby, if I didn’t know better, that could be you someday soon.
CROSBY That’s very nice to hear, Sir.
[Green adjusts Crosby’s askew tie.]
GREEN You even have the look of an executive. Not that looks matter around here. Tell him what matters around here, Garrett.
CUNNINGHAM Results.
[Green taps the stack of papers.]
GREEN And that’s what you’ve got right here. I’ll have the calls patched through to you.
CROSBY [flustered] Now?
GREEN Relax. Take a breather. I can tell you’ve been up all night. Just stay in here, and you’ll be ready when the first call comes in. With the schedule freed, you and I can push up our meeting considerably, Garrett.
[Cunningham stares back. Green CROSSES toward the office door. He turns back in the doorframe.]
GREEN Crosby, you’ll do just fine.
[Green EXITS. Cunningham walks to a dry bar and gathers two empty glasses.]
CROSBY Oh, I don’t drink. I like to stay sharp as a tack.
CUNNINGHAM It’s about keeping yourself intact. I’d recommend you start or find something else to help you cope.
[Cunningham sets both glasses down on the desk and motions for Crosby to sit opposite him. Crosby sits.]
CROSBY All we have to do is make it through today. I don’t know what’s going to happen at all the other firms, but I’m confident we’ll be the ones left standing when the smoke clears.
[There is a long pause. Crosby flips through his report, brushing up.]
CUNNINGHAM You ever read the Bible?
[Cunningham opens the briefcase and withdraws a Bible.]
CROSBY I appreciate the sentiment, but I think I should probably review my. . . .
[Cunningham slides the Bible across the table to Crosby. Crosby is bemused.]
CUNNINGHAM Now would be a great time.
[Crosby opens the cover. He reaches his hand into the book and removes a canteen that has been hidden inside.]
CUNNINGHAM French brandy: a parting gift the Army didn’t know they gave. It’s not cognac, but who can really taste the difference?
[Crosby, sensing he can’t refuse this drink, unscrews the top and takes a sip from the canteen. He COUGHS a bit.]
CROSBY It’s smooth.
[Crosby hands it back to Cunningham. Cunningham STANDS AND HOBBLES to the window.]
CROSBY It is quite the view, Sir.
CUNNINGHAM Is it?
CROSBY Yeah, it’s amazing. The skyline. The bridge.
CUNNINGHAM I guess I don’t see it.
CROSBY You can’t see the Brooklyn Bridge?
CUNNINGHAM No, I see a different one. . . . [long beat] Our whole squad, thirteen of sixteen men. Dead. It was the staff sergeant, Private O’Reilly, and me stuck. . . . defending the French retreat across that godforsaken bridge. . . . just the three of us left, and more Krauts than sinners in that book.
CROSBY Dear God! I’m so sorry, Sir. I had no idea.
CUNNINGHAM All we had to do was hold position while they pulled back. O’Reilly . . . [taking a long swig from his canteen] I’ve never seen anyone fight so hard. Bullet to the arm. Never stopped shooting. All for that bridge.
CROSBY Did you save it?
CUNNINGHAM No, the staff sergeant stopped feeding me ammunition because. . . .
GREEN [offstage] . . . . we were all doomed.
[Green ENTERS. He approaches Cunningham, places a hand on his shoulder in eerie solidarity. Cunningham passes him the canteen.]
GREEN And the corporal agreed, right Garrett? You agreed? So I took the only action I knew would get us out.
[Green forms a gun with his hand and points it at Cunningham’s knee. Cunningham flinches.]
GREEN I then dragged the corporal out of enemy fire. [beat] The story of an American staff sergeant who demonstrated, “Gallantry in action against an enemy of the United States while engaged in military operations involving conflict with an opposing foreign force.” At least that’s what the Silver Citation Star says.
CROSBY And O’Reilly?
[Cunningham opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. There’s no justification.]
CROSBY Sir, what happened to O’Reilly?
GREEN He elected to make the ultimate sacrifice. I gave him a few words of encouragement, and he gave me this. So, I let him fight for God and Country.
CROSBY You left him. . . .
GREEN . . . . to fight
CROSBY . . . . to. . . .
CUNNINGHAM . . . . die. We left him there to die. What does that make us?
[Silence.]
CUNNINGHAM Crosby?
CROSBY [softly] Cowards.
[Cunningham gains a sense of peace from hearing this, relaxes slightly.]
GREEN [to Cunningham] Now that you feel better about the past, how about we look to our future?
[Green polishes off the canteen.]
GREEN Ready, Garrett?
[Cunningham stands and picks up the briefcase. Green and Cunningham approach the door of the office.]
CROSBY What did you say to him?
GREEN Pardon?
CROSBY What did you say to O’Reilly? What were the words of encouragement?
GREEN I said: “O’Reilly, . . . . you’ll do just fine.”
[Green and Cunningham EXIT. Crosby is left stunned. He sips at the cognac as a way to cope.]
[Suddenly, TWO GUNSHOTS are heard OFFSTAGE.]
[Crosby DASHES TO THE DOOR just as the PHONE on the desk RINGS. He stops midway between the door and the phone. It RINGS again. He’s frozen, caught between the two events. . . . ]
FADE TO BLACK
END OF PLAY