What We Were Thinking Of, 3

“The water's edge is a good place for secrets”

⇐ Part 2, “Where is my daughter? Who are my sons?”

⇒ Part 4, “People are trying new ways to live” (June 28, 2025)

---

What We Were Thinking Of: Table of Contents

---

Homo Vitruvius and American Samizdat serve as homes for my weekly creative writing and intellectual exploration. HV persists as my original and primary Substack in these pursuits; AS arose in resistance to Trumpism and is dedicated to its defeat. From memoir and poetry to fiction and drama, mostly in HV, to history and political philosophy, predominantly in AS, you will find it here. The stacks may be subscribed jointly or singly in Manage Subscription.

Your likes, comments, shares, and recommendations, and your free and paid subscriptions help gain attention for writing you appreciate and aid the mission to offer a renascent light against the darkness: art, information, culture, and ideas for a free, tolerant, and democratic people. Even the modest monthly subscription rate of $2 gains access to the full archive.

Recap last week: As David conducts a book tour for Culture Wars, he receives a mysterious and disturbing letter. The complicated relationships of his life are revealed.

This week: Charles visits David, Bud, and their new college friend Sara in their dorm, freshman year, 1966. David visits Charles and Renata in fall 1990 to inform them of the mysterious letter from Bud. David and Charles argue.

What We Were Thinking Of is available for full productions and readings. Interested parties may contact me through my Substack email address.

---

Bud and Sara enter, center stage, Bud carrying a box of books into his college dormitory room. David looks at them, walks past Kate, on whom lights dim, to join them. Charles enters.)

CHARLES

(to Bud)

I've met with the dean. Seems like a good man. Astute. Hello, David.

DAVID

Mr. Powell.

(Charles looks at Sara.)

SARA

(extending her hand)

Sara Flannery. Hello.

(They shake hands. Charles looks around.)

CHARLES

Well, you seem...almost settled.

(He looks into the box of books, picks one up and examines it.)

CHARLES

(continuing)

"Ba-ba-Ram-Das?"

(another book)

"The Age of Permanent Revolution."

(and another)

"The Port Huron Statement."

(On the screen above, from the Port Huron Statement: "We are people of this generation, bred in at least modest comfort, housed now in universities, looking uncomfortably to the world we inherit.")

CHARLES

(continuing)

Interesting reading. I've never seen these at home.

BUD

That's my personal library.

CHARLES

Personal? Or private?

BUD

An interesting distinction.

CHARLES

Yes, it is. Do you understand it?

(David and Sara glance at each other. David has seen this before.)

CHARLES

(continuing)

Well, I won't disturb you and your friends. I just came to say good-bye.

(He holds out his hand rather formally. Bud shakes it. Charles touches David's shoulder, smiles at Sara as he leaves.)

DAVID

(to Sara)

Bud's father's in the State Department. We think he used to be in the CIA.

BUD

Probably still is.

SARA

Are you serious?

(looking after Charles)

I've never met a CIA agent before.

BUD

(hushed tone)

You still haven't. He was never here.

(as David and Sara laugh)

At least he wasn't for me.

DAVID

I find him interesting.

BUD

(to Sara, leading her away)

David's political education is still in the formative stage. It's what comes of reading novels for the pleasure of it.

(David watches them go, then turns as Charles and Renata enter.)

RENATA

(extending her hands to clasp David's)

It's so wonderful to see you, David. It was such a surprise when you called. We've been seeing you on TV, though, reading about you. It's been ... How long has it been?

DAVID

A few years.

RENATA

Yes. Hasn't it been? How time ... Oh, I'm descending into cliché, aren't I? I hate that. The world seems cliché enough, sometimes, without old people cluttering it up with more for want of fresh ideas. Come, there's so much to talk about. We should have some tea, some sandwiches. What would you like?

DAVID

Anything you prepare will be perfect, Renata.

RENATA

I love this young man, Charles. I always have. A gentleman always, just like his -- just like you. Why don't you two go sit out by the water while I fix a light lunch. I'll call when I'm ready.

(Renata exits.)

DAVID

She doesn't change. She's so...

CHARLES

Genteel, I think, is the word. Makes my life bearable, sometimes when… it's not. That and the Chesapeake. A kind of retreat.

(pointing the way)

Shall we?

(They walk out toward a bench by the water's edge.)

CHARLES

(continuing)

So, then, if I understood you, in the fall you'll be taking over the Center?

DAVID

Well, I'll be the director. It's a little too democratic a place for anyone to want to think of me as "taking over."

CHARLES

Still confusing leadership with tyranny after all these years.

DAVID

(smiles)

Retirement hasn't dulled your blade.

CHARLES

Oh, that's when you most have to keep it sharpened.

DAVIID

Really? Why is that?

CHARLES

That’s when your enemies come for you — when they think you’ve let your guard down.

DAVID

So, no rest, then, ever?

CHARLES

In this world?

(beat, shifting)

I have noticed some advancement on your part, though. Now you're quoting Clausewitz on TV. Risky business, that, for -- what do you call yourself these days -- a "progressive"? Of course, now you're more of a celebrity, ivory tower type. Not much at the barricades anymore.

(David shakes his head with a laugh. He raises his arm and waves it.)

DAVID

White flag. I surrender. Mercy.

(Charles pats him on the back. He motions for them to sit. They look out at the water.)

DAVID

(continuing)

It is very beautiful.

CHARLES

(nodding, beat)

So, is it time yet to share your secret?

DAVID

My secret?

CHARLES

You're almost like a son to us, David. You noticed Renata's --

(David nods.)

CHARLES

(continuing)

But you haven't paid your first visit in nearly four years to share your professional accomplishments with us. And you didn't share your purpose with Renata. So I guess that you have a secret. The water's edge is a good place for secrets.

DAVID

And we share one already.

CHARLES

Do we? I have so many secrets. I don't often share them.

DAVID

You share one with me.

CHARLES

(beat)

Yes. I do.

(David pulls the envelope with Bud's note from his pocket, offers it to Charles. Charles looks but doesn't reach for it.)

CHARLES

(continuing)

Let me light up first.

(Charles takes out a pipe and cloth pouch. He fills the pipe with tobacco and tamps it down with the comfort of ritual, lights up, puffing. He takes the envelope and reads the note. Thoughtful but unemotional, he returns the note to the envelope and hands it back to David.)

DAVID

I thought you should know.

CHARLES

Thank you for not opening it in front of Renata.

DAVID

Are you going to tell her?

CHARLES

(not answering)

What are you going to do?

DAVID

What am I going to do?

CHARLES

He wrote to you.

DAVID

He's your son, Charles.

CHARLES

I know what he is to me.

DAVID

We haven't heard from him in --

CHARLES

-- ten and half years. And now he's written -- that. What exactly is that supposed to change?

DAVID

For all we knew he was dead.

CHARLES

I never imagined he was dead. I knew he was out there somewhere. And now he still is.

DAVID

We thought we had lost him.

CHARLES

And have we regained him? You thought you lost him ten and a half years ago. I lost him long before that.

DAVID

So we do nothing?

CHARLES

We? He's written to you, David. The question is, what are you going to do? Are you going to try to find him?

DAVID

I don't know. I thought maybe --

CHARLES

-- I would tell you what to do? Maybe look for him myself? Why the reluctance to look for him on your own? He's reached out to you. Are you afraid to reach back?

DAVID

I wouldn't know where to begin.

CHARLES

The postmark. Salt Lake City would seem a reasonable start.

(beat)

Twenty years ago all you young people wanted to do was delve into the past, unearth all the complexities, dig up all the nasty little secrets. Shed the pure and simple light of day on other people's difficult choices. Now that it's your own life, you're not so eager.

DAVID

Is that the way you rationalize it? "Difficult choices"? Judgment calls? No right? No wrong?

CHARLES

They're all rationalizations, David. It's just that some are better than others.

DAVID

You have no compassion for him at all?

CHARLES

Compassion? Don't talk to me of compassion. What compassion did he have when he blew up that laboratory? When he killed that guard?

DAVID

It was an accident. He served his time.

CHARLES

He was willing to take the chance. With the guard's life, with his daughter's, the mother of his daughter, his parents'. Where was his compassion, for everyone, when he just went off and disappeared? You all think it's some kind of a game --

DAVID

Charles, please, don't condescend to me. I came --

CHARLES

You do. You think it's a game. You think there are "do overs." You play at revolution, and when you get into some real trouble, you want mommy and daddy to come rescue you, tell the serious people out there -- the really serious people -- "Oh, it was just pretend. He didn't mean it. He's a nice boy. Nice, middle-class boy from a good American home, whose mommy and daddy love him and will always be there for him no matter what, like after a bad dream. Can't we just do it all over?" There was a bad dream, David. He was the bad dream. And there's no doing it over.

(putting out his pipe, standing)

You ask me about compassion? Sometimes compassion has to see far, not near. Sometimes it has to see the long run, not the short.

DAVID

Then it's just an idea, Charles. Then it's no different from him.

CHARLES

And sometimes, when it's near, it's weakness, foolish weakness, and other people pay the price because you couldn't stand the pain. Well, I can stand the pain. I always have stood it. And judging by that note, you may have to find out if you can. Now let's go eat Renata's food. She's pretty near, and I can see that far.

(David remains seated as Charles leaves.)

AJA

---

⇐ Part 2, “Where is my daughter? Who are my sons?”

⇒ Part 4, “People are trying new ways to live” (June 28, 2025)

---

Poet. Storyteller. Dramatist. Essayist. Artificer.

ajayadler.com