Thirty Pieces of Silver: A Play in Three Acts (10 page)

(
He breaks off and turns to
JANE
,
who is watching him evenly and levelly.
)

JANE
(
very flatly
) Don't look at me, David. Unfortunately, I haven't seen his party card either.

FULLER
Isn't this much ado about nothing, Graham?

(
He picks up
DAVID'S
newspaper, points out the headline, and then tosses it aside.
)

Agronsky is in for it, and whatever you do won't change that one bit. Now, I've tried to play fair with you, Graham, but are you playing fair with me?

DAVID
(
staring at the deposition miserably
) It isn't that I don't want to help you any way I can.

FULLER
(
The hard-edge creeping into his voice.
) Then what is it, Graham? It doesn't look to me like you're trying to be particularly co-operative. The department isn't asking you to perform miracles. This is a very simple matter, and I can't think of any red-blooded American who wouldn't go along with it.

(
Miserably, staring at the paper which he has now put down on the piano, trying to fight it through on grounds which are totally unfamiliar to him
,
DAVID
stands there without moving. Both
FULLER
and
JANE
watch him, neither of them moving. A long moment passes.
)

Well, Graham, are you going to sign it?

(
Still
DAVID
doesn't react.
FULLER
speaks more softly.
)

Agronsky has no call on your sympathies, that I can tell you. The sooner we rid ourselves of his kind, the better off we will be. His loyalty isn't to our country, and it isn't to our way of life. If you consider it a matter of principle, then ask yourself where is their principle in their slave camps and their torture chambers? If I were in your place, Graham, I would sign that and consider it a good day's work in the service of my country. You ought to understand what service means. You were in the service, weren't you?

(
Now
DAVID
looks up at him. He stares at
FULLER
directly, his face twitching slightly. Then he looks at
JANE
.
There is a sudden warmth in
JANE,
a flicker of a smile that just breathes on her face. There is a suggestion that she would move toward
DAVID
,
hut that she is caught and held hack. She stands there.
DAVID
turns hack to
FULLER
.)

DAVID
And if I don't sign it?

FULLER
Why raise that possibility at all, Graham? I'm here as your friend, don't you understand that?

(
His voice softens and becomes intimate.
)

We're not working at cross purposes, Graham. I'm not going to raise threats about your job, about a blacklist, about what it means to go out through a loyalty hearing. Because I don't see any of that in the picture at all. You said something to Carmichael about your people coming over here to this country a long time back. Well, how many real white Americans are there? Christ Almighty, Graham, I shouldn't have to persuade you——

(
He glances at
JANE.
She is staring at her husband.
)

DAVID
(
turning to
JANE
) You can see his point, Jane.

(
She makes no answer.
DAVID
stands and looks at her. Then, compulsively, he walks to the piano, takes a pen that
FULLER
holds out to him, and signs the letter.
JANE
doesn't move.
FULLER
smiles as he folds the document.
)

FULLER
I'd like to shake hands with you, Mr. Graham. I consider it a privilege.

(
DAVID
shakes hands with him.
)

Good night, Mrs. Graham.

(
JANE
does not move or answer.
)

Good night, Mr. Graham.

(
He starts to the door, stops at the vestibule and turns back to
DAVID
.)

Also, just let me say this, Mr. Graham. From here on, you have a few damn good friends in damn good places. That's something to hang on to.

(
He exits.
DAVID
now
looks at
JANE
,
who meets his gaze. He looks away. The silence becomes intense, painful. Then, suddenly
,
JANE'S
face is contorted. A sob, visible, not audible, wracks her body. She bends her head, so that
DAVID
should not see her face.
)

(
DAVID
goes over to her and tries to lift her head. She tears away.
)

JANE
(
vehemently
) Don't touch me!

DAVID
Jane—Jane, won't you listen to me?

(
She looks up at him now, on her face the searching, uncomprehending expressions of a stranger.
)

I did what was right. I had to do it.

JANE
(
very softly
) I suppose you did, David. I suppose you did. I suppose there was no other way for it, was there?

DAVID
(
trying to stimulate an emotional anger to match hers
) What in hell is your stake in Agronsky?

(
JANE
stares at him. Her face twitches, and then she begins to laugh, half hysterically. The laughter turns into sobs. She walks to the staircase, facing away from
DAVID,
her body wracked again. Then it passes.
)

JANE
What is my stake in Agronsky?

(
She turns to him.
)

What is my stake in you, David?

(
Her face contorts and she speaks softly.
)

Oh, my God!

(Wow
HILDA
enters.
HILDA
looks from one to the other
.
JANE
speaks to her very gently
.)

What is it, Hilda?

HILDA
(
looking at her for a long moment before answering. She is making a determined effort to be unaffected by what is happening between these two people. She wants to cut it off from herself. Hers is one world. Theirs is another.
) My bag is packed, Mrs. Graham. I'm going now, and there's some money coming to me.

JANE
(
fighting for control
) Of course. My bag is upstairs. Do you have a place to go, Hilda?

HILDA
(
ironically
) Even now—do I have a place to go? My God, Mrs. Graham, even the dogs have the warmth of their own kind, but you won't admit me even there. Do I have a place to go? Don't you think I have people, friends? Do you live in a jungle? I'll go to my people, and even if I didn't know a soul, there'd be doors open to me. There'd be some food and a place to sleep the night. That's what people are, but you've stopped being people.

DAVID
Who are you talking to?

JANE
To us, David. Listen to her. Yes, listen to her. I thought and thought, but it's so simple.

(
very slowly and with great inner fear
)

We've stopped being people. That's just it, Hilda.

HILDA
Yes, Mrs. Graham?

JANE
Can I go with you? I have no place to go. And no doors open to me. And no place to sleep the night. Can I go with you?

HILDA
With me?

JANE
Yes—please. Please, Hilda.

HILDA
How can you go with me, Mrs. Graham? How can you? You're one world. I'm another. You want to go into my world? Then all he'd have to do (
nodding at
DAVID
) is to phone the police. Then, do you know what would happen?

JANE
Yes—I think I know.

HILDA
Poor kid.

JANE
(
looking slowly from
DAVID
to
HILDA
) Those are the first two words. Now we talk like people, don't we, Hilda? Two words—poor kid. But I'm not poor, and I'm not a kid any more. This house is dirty, and I'm dirty, But I'm going to take my child and become clean, and she's never going to be dirty.

DAVID
What in hell are you talking about?

JANE
Lorry and me—we go away from here to-night.

DAVID
And I have nothing to say about that?

JANE
Nothing.

DAVID
Well, you're crazy—crazy—pleading to go with that damn——

JANE
(
interrupting savagely
) Don't say it David! Don't say it. Look at me! Try to understand! I'm dangerous now.

DAVID
What's gotten into you?

JANE
Nothing—nothing that I can tell you. I'm no different. I haven't learned anything. Or have I? I have a million questions but very few answers. But there are answers, David.

(
pointing to
HILDA
)

She has some of them. And I'm going to take Lorry and find other answers.

DAVID
Damn you, if you want to go to Agronsky, don't wake the child up now——

JANE
David, with you, really, nothing changes. You make things in your own mind, and they become real. Then perhaps I shouldn't blame you. It may be that by now you really believe that what you said about Agronsky was the truth. You could believe this. What is true in your life? Agronsky never touched me—never made a motion toward me, more's the pity. More's the pity, David.

DAVID
All right. Wherever you want to go, you can, with or without your high yellow friend here. That's you. But Lorry stays here.

JANE
(
very calmly now
) No, David—Lorry goes with me. And don't try and stop us. Don't make trouble, David. I told you, I'm dangerous. Think of what you did to Agronsky. What kind of a world do you live in, David? If you did it to Agronsky—someone could do it to you, do you see? So don't make any trouble, David, and don't try to stop us.

(
she turns to
HILDA
)

Will you wait for me; Hilda—Hilda, as a friend? Will you wait for me while I pack some things? Will you, Hilda? And then can we walk out of here together, as friends? And Lorry won't be afraid, because we'll be on either side of her. Will you, Hilda?

HILDA
Yes—I will.

JANE
You're not afraid of him, Hilda?

HILDA
No.

JANE
And neither am I. We're not afraid, David. This is the beginning of something, not the end. We are both dangerous now, David. Keep your hands off. Leave us alone. We're in our own land—ours as well as yours and Fuller's. So leave us alone. Hands off, David.

(
She starts up the stairs as she says this, and with her words, the curtain falls for the end of Act III.
)

A BIOGRAPHY OF HOWARD FAST

Howard Fast (1914-2003), one of the most prolific American writers of the twentieth century, was a bestselling author of more than eighty works of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and screenplays. Fast's commitment to championing social justice in his writing was rivaled only by his deftness as a storyteller and his lively cinematic style.

Born on November 11, 1914, in New York City, Fast was the son of two immigrants. His mother, Ida, came from a Jewish family in Britain, while his father, Barney, emigrated from the Ukraine, changing his last name to Fast on arrival at Ellis Island. Fast's mother passed away when he was only eight, and when his father lost steady work in the garment industry, Fast began to take odd jobs to help support the family. One such job was at the New York Public Library, where Fast, surrounded by books, was able to read widely. Among the books that made a mark on him was Jack London's
The Iron Heel
, containing prescient warnings against fascism that set his course both as a writer and as an advocate for human rights.

Fast began his writing career early, leaving high school to finish his first novel,
Two Valleys
(1933). His next novels, including
Conceived in Liberty
(1939) and
Citizen Tom Paine
(1943), explored the American Revolution and the progressive values that Fast saw as essential to the American experiment. In 1943 Fast joined the American Communist Party, an alliance that came to define—and often encumber—much of his career. His novels during this period advocated freedom against tyranny, bigotry, and oppression by exploring essential moments in American history, as in
The American
(1946). During this time Fast also started a family of his own. He married Bette Cohen in 1937 and the couple had two children.

Congressional action against the Communist Party began in 1948, and in 1950, Fast, an outspoken opponent of McCarthyism, was called before the House Un-American Activities Committee. Because he refused to provide the names of other members of the Joint Anti-Fascist Refugee Committee, Fast was issued a three-month prison sentence for contempt of Congress. While in prison, he was inspired to write
Spartacus
(1951), his iconic retelling of a slave revolt during the Roman Empire, and did much of his research for the book during his incarceration. Fast's appearance before Congress also earned him a blacklisting by all major publishers, so he started his own press, Blue Heron, in order to release Spartacus. Other novels published by Blue Heron, including
Silas Timberman
(1954), directly addressed the persecution of Communists and others during the ongoing Red Scare. Fast continued to associate with the Communist Party until the horrors of Stalin's purges of dissidents and political enemies came to light in the mid-1950s. He left the Party in 1956.