: We don’t need this guy, Don. We don’t need him. I see your point here, I do. So you’re thinking I’m out there alone, and you’re worried I’ll rattle, so you ask me how I go in. I understand. I see this, I do. I could go in the second floor, climb up a drainpipe, I could this . . .
DON dials phone again.
He’s talking, he’s talking, for chrissake, give him a minute, huh?
DON hangs up phone.
I am hurt, Don.
DON : I’m sorry, Teach.
TEACH : I’m not hurt for me.
DON : Who are you hurt for?
TEACH : Think about it.
DON : We can use somebody watch our rear.
TEACH : You keep your numbers down, you don’t have a rear. You know what has rears? Armies
DON : I’m just saying, something goes wrong . . .
TEACH : Wrong, wrong, you make your own right and wrong. Hey Biiig fucking deal. The shot is yours, no one’s disputing that. We’re talking business, let’s talk business: you think it’s good business call Fletch in? To help us.
DON : Yes.
TEACH : Well then okay.
Pause.
Are you sure?
DON : Yeah.
TEACH : All right, if you’re sure . . .
DON : I’m sure, Teach.
TEACH : Then, all right, then. That’s all I worry about.
Pause.
And you’re probably right, we could use three of us on the job.
DON : Yeah.
TEACH : Somebody watch for the cops . . . work out a signal . . .
DON : Yeah.
TEACH : Safety in numbers.
DON : Yeah.
TEACH : Three-men jobs.
DON : Yeah.
TEACH : You, me, Fletcher.
DON : Yeah.
TEACH : A division of labor.
Pause.
(Security. Muscle. Intelligence.) Huh?
DON : Yeah.
TEACH : This means, what, a traditional split Am I right? We get ten off the top goes to Earl, and the rest, three-way split. Huh? That’s what we got? Huh?
DON : Yeah.
TEACH : Well, that’s what’s right.
Pause.
All right. Lay the shot out for me.
DON : For tonight?
TEACH : Yes.
DON : Okay.
Pause.
I stay here on the phone . . .
TEACH : . . . yeah . . .
DON : . . . for Fletcher . . .
TEACH : Yeah.
DON : We meet, ten-thirty, ‘leven, back here.
TEACH : (Back here, the three . . .)
DON : Yeah. And go in.
Pause.
Huh?
TEACH : Yeah. Where?
DON : Around the corner.
TEACH : Yeah.
Pause.
Are you mad at me?
DON : No.
TEACH : Do you want to play gin?
DON : Naaa.
TEACH : Then I guess I’ll go home, take a nap, and rest up. Come back here tonight and we’ll take off this fucking fruit’s coins.
DON : Right.
TEACH : I feel like I’m trying to stay up to death . . .
DON : You ain’t been to sleep since the game?
TEACH : Shit no (then that dyke cocksucker . . .)
DON : So go take a nap. You trying to kill yourself?
TEACH : You’re right, and you do what you think is right, Don.
DON : I got to, Teach.
TEACH : You got to trust your instincts, right or wrong.
DON : I got to.
TEACH : I know it. I know you do.
Pause.
Anybody wants to get in touch with me, I’m over the hotel.
DON : Okay.
TEACH : I’m not the hotel, I stepped out for coffee, I’ll be back one minute.
DON : Okay.
TEACH : And I’ll see you around eleven.
DON : O’clock.
TEACH : Here.
DON : Right.
TEACH : And don’t worry about anything.
DON : I won’t.
TEACH : I don’t want to hear you’re worrying about a goddamned thing.
DON : You won’t, Teach.
TEACH : You’re sure you want Fletch coming with us?
DON : Yes.
TEACH : All right, then, so long as you’re sure.
DON : I’m sure, Teach.
TEACH : Then I’m going to see you tonight.
DON : Goddamn right you are.
TEACH : I am seeing you later.
DON : I know.
TEACH : Good-bye.
DON : Good-bye.
TEACH : I want to make one thing plain before I go, Don. I am not mad at you.
DON : I know.
TEACH : All right, then.
DON : You have a good nap.
TEACH : I will.
TEACH exits .
DON : Fuckin‘ business . . .
Lights dim to black.
*Some portions of the dialogue appear in parentheses, which serve to mark a slight change of outlook on the part of the speaker—perhaps a momentary change to a more introspective regard.—D.M.
ACT II
Don’s Resale