Race (7 page)

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Authors: David Mamet

BOOK: Race
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SUSAN
: I . . .
JACK
: Which allegation . . .
SUSAN
: I . . .
JACK
: . . .
which allegation
the courts will most likely accept as proven and the accused stand as guilty until proven innocent.
SUSAN
: “
Even
I . . .”
JACK
: I, as a judicious businessman, then,
must
investigate. An African-American Applicant with a greater rigor. As I can't ask you
directly
, about your
religion
, about your
family
. . .
SUSAN
: I . . .
JACK
: To find: “are you a good, moral
person
. . .” I must investigate, to try to
determine
. . .
SUSAN
: It's illegal . . .
JACK
: . . . your . . .
SUSAN
: My qualifications? One would have thought those evident from my résumé.
JACK
: No, not your qualifications, your character.
SUSAN
: You investigated me, to determine my “
character
.”
JACK
: That's right.
SUSAN
: But you found I had lied. I lied.
JACK
: Yes, you lied. But I hired you
anyway
, as I felt the lie (A) was none of my business and (B) was not germane to the determination. What are you bitching about? I gave you a
job
. You want to “change the Racial Tenor of this Country,” off you go.
I'm
trying to run a business which supports the
three
of us: fairly and
legally
. . .
SUSAN
: It's illegal to apply differing standards of investigation . . .
JACK
: Okay, that's illegal. But on the other hand it's
wrong
, you understand? It's “wrong” that folks of different colors are treated differently under the law. It was wrong
then
, and it's wrong
now
. Bullshit
aside
—you are accorded special treatment, I have to take that into account.
SUSAN
: You
have
to.
JACK
: Yes.
SUSAN
:
Why?
JACK
: To run my business.
SUSAN
: But it's against the law.
JACK
: . . . there you go . . .
SUSAN
: Then are you free to break the law?
JACK
: You're an Officer of the Court. You lied on your employment application. When you signed it. That's a false admission, with attempt to defraud. Which is a crime.
SUSAN
: You were aware of it, and hired me anyway,
which
. . .
JACK
: Okay, good for
you
, now: what's the problem? Knock it off.
SUSAN
: You hired me anyway.
JACK
: Yes.
SUSAN
: Why?
JACK
: Because you've got talent and it's vastly fucking rare. Now, what do you want from me?
(Pause.)
SUSAN
: Why does he want to confess?
JACK
: All people want to confess.
SUSAN
: White People?
JACK
: All people. We have different forms. The whites say “Raise our Taxes,” the blacks say, “Fuck you, whitey.” Guilt and shame. We Catholics hop into the confessional, the Jews weep on Yom Kippur. I've
seen
'em. Everyone feels shame.
SUSAN
: Blacks feel shame?
JACK
: Everyone feels shame.
SUSAN
: Is that different from Guilt?
JACK
: Guilt is a Legal Term, the “feeling” of guilt, is a sign of our estrangement from God. What's your problem?
SUSAN
: You exploited being white.
JACK
: Is that what I did?
SUSAN
: Yes.
JACK
: How?
SUSAN
: You investigated me.
JACK
: The
firm
investigated you.
SUSAN
: That's right.
JACK
: So, did
Henry
exploit being white? Or was he just “acting” white, or some such bullshit? In the twenty years we built this firm. And p.s., I'll tell you one more, you tell me that equally, you might not exploit being black? Or that any human being whatever might not, when pressed, exploit whatever momentary advantage he or she possessed. Tell me that, and I'll go give my life to Christ. Just knock it off, and what's the matter, two guys in a room? What is the fucking matter?
(Pause.)
SUSAN
: You asked me to wear the dress.
JACK
: I asked you to wear the dress.
SUSAN
: That's right.
JACK
: To wear the Red Dress.
(Pause)
In court.
SUSAN
: Yes.
JACK
: I'm sorry.
(Pause.)
SUSAN
: You're sorry.
JACK
: Yes. I was wrong. Will you forgive me?
(Pause)
It's a complicated world. Full of misunderstanding. That's why we have lawyers.
SUSAN
: I thought Lawyers existed to seek Justice.
JACK
: Well, you were wrong. Two parties to a case—loser ever say, “Yes I lost. But, you know what? The other guy was right.” Each side thinks it's right. And
justice
, if it exists—lies only in the imperfect, and mutually unacceptable result of their interaction. What else could it be? I'm sorry I asked you to wear the dress. Will you forgive me?
(Pause.)
SUSAN
: Yes, I will.
JACK
: Thank you. I very much appreciate it. Now, let's see if we can't settle this thing in our favor.
(Henry enters.)
HENRY
: Tell me again.
JACK
: Again?
HENRY
: Yes. Start from the beginning.
JACK
: He said, she said. But the Red Dress was intact.
HENRY
: And if our guy's a racist?
JACK
: We ain't getting dragged into that pew.
HENRY
: What if we are?
JACK
: We
aren't
. Full stop. The guy said One Thing, old people next door misheard. Throw it on the table and we're
done
with it.
HENRY
: What if there's more?
JACK
: Is there more?
HENRY
: What if there is.
JACK
: Show me.
HENRY
: . . . you ready . . . ?
(Henry produces a letter.)
JACK
: What is it?
HENRY
: Letter messengered to Greenstein.
JACK
: Alright.
HENRY
: And forwarded to us.
JACK
: From whom?
HENRY
: A well-wisher.
JACK
: Okay . . .
HENRY
: Our client's college roommate. A postcard, from our client to his friend. Trip to the Caribbean, college days.
JACK
: Read it.
HENRY
(Reads)
: “Bermuda . . .” Our client writes: “Getting off the plane at night. And the heat and the salt air wraps around you.”
(Pause)
“It's like being in some hot, black . . .” What is that word? Can you read that word? . . .
(He shows the letter to Jack.)
JACK
: Well. That's fucking terrific.
SCENE THREE
The office.
Henry, Jack and Charles.
 
 
HENRY
(Showing the postcard to Charles)
: Z'at your handwriting?
CHARLES
: What is this?
JACK
: Did you write it?
CHARLES
: Yes.
HENRY
: You
did
write it.
CHARLES
: Yes. I wrote it.
HENRY
: Alright.
CHARLES
: How did you get this?
HENRY
: That is your handwriting.
CHARLES
: It was, that was
decades
ago, I . . .
HENRY
: Who is this “Bill”? Who is “Bill”?
CHARLES
: Bill was my roommate.
HENRY
: . . . you went to the Caribbean . . .
CHARLES
: I . . . we were . . . I was in college. Yes. I wrote him. From the Caribbean.
HENRY
: Long time ago.
CHARLES
: That's right.
HENRY
: Have you had any contact since?
CHARLES
: No.
JACK
: What you ever do to him?
CHARLES
: Do to him? Nothing. We were friends. I wrote to him. From my trip.
JACK
(Reads)
: “Getting off the plane at night. The heat and wet salt air hits you. It's like being in some hot black . . .”
What
is that word?
CHARLES
: That's, that's . . . I was speaking. About the
heat
at night. He . . . isn't that
obvious
?
HENRY
: Listen to the words. “A hot black cunt.”
CHARLES
: But, that's not what the words mean.
HENRY
:
What's
not what the words mean?
CHARLES
: It. It's not a racial epithet.
HENRY
: It's
not
a racial epithet . . .
JACK
: You want to hear that quote in court?
CHARLES
: But it would be taken out of context.
JACK
: Well that is the definition of a quote.
(Pause)
HENRY
: Why did he save the letter?
CHARLES
: I don't know.
HENRY
: That's quite a while ago. Why would he do that?
CHARLES
: We save things.
HENRY
: Yes, we do.
CHARLES
: We . . .
HENRY
: We put them in the attic. Yes. We put them in
boxes
.
CHARLES
: That's right.
HENRY
: And forget them.
CHARLES
: Yes.
HENRY
: We forget about them.
CHARLES
: That's right.
HENRY
: But your friend
remembered
this.
(Pause) Why
?
CHARLES
: He saw my name in the . . . I don't have to fucking defend myself to you.
HENRY
: No, but
we
have to defend
you
. To
defend you
.
CHARLES
: He . . .
HENRY
: . . . alright.
CHARLES
: He saved the letter. Because.
HENRY
: Help me through this.
CHARLES
: I have a certain . . . a certain
celebrity
.
HENRY
: . . . that's good.
CHARLES
: Due to my
position
, due . . .
HENRY
: Alright.
CHARLES
: I . . . he saved the letter because. I am
wealthy
. . . I am . . .
HENRY
: Yes.
CHARLES
: And when the . . .
HENRY
: When the accusation occurred . . .
CHARLES
: That's right.
(Pause)
He.
(Pause)
I don't know why he saved the letter.
JACK
: You have some “notoriety.”
CHARLES
: I have, for some time . . .
JACK
: But you did
not
in college . . .
CHARLES
: Not particularly, no.
JACK
: Or for some time afterward.
CHARLES
: I . . . No, I . . . Not at all.
HENRY
: You fuck some black women while you were down there. In the Caribbean.
CHARLES
: Why would he do this to me?
HENRY
: What is that?
CHARLES
: Why would he save the letter?
HENRY
: You can't think of any reason?
CHARLES
: No.
HENRY
: You fuck some black woman down there?
CHARLES
: . . . why would he do this to me?
HENRY
: Is he black?
(Pause)
Z'he a black man? This friend.
CHARLES
: He's my
friend
.
HENRY
: Is he black?
CHARLES
: How would you know that from the postcard?
JACK
: Is he black?
CHARLES
: Yes.
(Pause)
Did you know that from the “list”?
JACK
: The list . . . ?
CHARLES
: You asked me to write down a list, of my indiscretions . . .
HENRY
: . . . and this Bill was your friend.
CHARLES
: Yes.
HENRY
: As your
friend
, and as a
black
man, how do you think he felt, receiving that postcard?
(Pause.)
CHARLES
: We joked about it.
HENRY
: You joked about the postcard.
CHARLES
: Yes. He found the language “amusing” . . . The language we used . . .
HENRY
: You slap palms with him, did you? Back then . . . Talking'bout the black women in the Caribbean?

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