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⇐ Part 5, “Radical confessions”
⇒ Part 7, “I want to know who my father is” (July 19, 2025)
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Recap last week: David hired a Salt Lake City private investigator, Robert Smith, to find Bud. Back in his university office, David discussed the latest developments and threats to his career with his colleague Kurtis Brown.
This week: The controversy over Bud’s newspaper memoir expands. Kate challenges David over his commitment to her. The FBI investigates.
(David lingers, worrying. He stands, notices his answering machine. He punches a button. Spotlight on Kate elsewhere on stage.)
KATE
You didn't call. Are you back yet? If you are, let's have dinner. Interesting reading in the Tribune.
(David sighs at this. Then the next message. Spot out on Kate, up on Larry Havermore, elsewhere again.)
HAVERMORE
Prof. Rich. Larry Havermore, Chicago Tribune. I'd like to talk to you about the Bud Powell series we're running. I'm sure you've seen it. It raises some old, interesting questions. I'd like to get your side of the story. Give me a call at --
(Annoyed, David advances the tape to the next message. Spot out on Havermore, up on Sara, elsewhere.)
SARA
It's Sara. Listen, Hannah's been trying to reach you for days. I told her I thought you went to Salt Lake City. She's got Christmas leave and wants you to join us for dinner. Who knows what's coming next, you know? You're welcome to bring your friend, if you're okay with that. I am. Anyway, I think Hannah is going to pay you a surprise visit, so be surprised. And show her how you feel. Call me when you can.
(Spot out on Sara. David pauses at this news, then goes to the next message. Bud appears in shadow upstage, his face not visible.)
BUD
Culture wars? Culture of war. How'd you miss that one, pal?
(A blast of alternative rock music from a Christmas party. Kate enters carrying two plastic cups of wine, hands David his as he joins her on the front porch of a student house.)
DAVID
I don't know what he's up to, Kate. I have no fucking idea.
KATE
Do you think the messages are connected to the series in the paper?
DAVID
They must be.
KATE
Is he trying to rattle you for some reason?
DAVID
Bud never needed a reason to try to rattle me. It was a matter of principle with him.
KATE
After all these years? What does he want you to do, bomb another building?
DAVID
What do you mean, "another"?
KATE
Well, he bombed one before. What did you think I ...?
(They both get the confusion, let it drop.)
KATE
(continuing)
I have to say, I found the article very informative. I figured you did the usual 60s radical stuff. I didn't realize you were such a leader in the movement.
DAVID
I wasn't such a leader in the movement. It was just on this campus. Bud was the one with connections. That was his bag.
KATE
His "bag"?
(beat)
It gave me a sense of who you were -- the kind of person you used to be. I know it's a sore subject, but you haven't told me a lot.
DAVID
It gets kind of old after a while, you know. You tell the same stories about yourself over and over again. You get to a certain age --
KATE
Nearly 44?
DAVID
-- you get tired of telling them. You get tired of yourself.
KATE
I thought you weren't going to play the weary, wise older man to me.
DAVID
Well, I think I can keep my promise about the wise part.
(Kate is unhappy at this. She leaves the porch. David follows.)
DAVID
(continuing)
Kate ...
KATE
Are you trying to tell me you don't have the energy to be really, completely here for me? I'm just some sort of companion to your jaded middle age? I get to be with you, but I never get to know you?
DAVID
Is that what it means to know someone, to hear his tales of when he was ten and twenty and thirty?
KATE
Partly, yes. To know the things you wanted. Who you loved. Who loved you. The mistakes you made. I know the "great" professor and author — I want to know the person.
DAVID
That's a lot of baggage, Kate — a lot more than comes with a younger man. You're maybe just beginning to get an idea of that. And there may be more to come. Are you sure you want to carry that load?
KATE
(composing herself to speak)
When I first met you, I thought you would be one of those special experiences that only some people get to have in life — an "affair" with one of your professors. I thought it would last a few months. I would have this extraordinary experience to look back on. Maybe we'd even stay friends. It hasn't turned out like that. You think your life will go a certain way — but there are always these surprises. And you're never sure whether to cling to your plans — and maybe miss out on something unexpected and wonderful — or if you should embrace what's come your way, let it lead you where it will. I know as hard as I try, I'll never quite be your equal. But I also know that as long as I live, I'll never find anyone I could love as much as you.
(David is moved. He takes hold of her, strokes her face. She takes the hand and holds it.)
KATE
(continuing)
So I think to myself, I can take the accidents of my life, and I can choose them. I can make them mine. I can choose you, instead of letting you remain something that just happened to me.
(A kiss would be next, but Jarrod enters with a bottle of beer, from inside the house.)
JARROD
Well, now, there's my two favorite party animals.
(stops)
Oops.
(beat)
You weren't discussing Foucault, were you?
(David and Kate separate.)
JARROD
(continuing)
Should I --?
DAVID
Come on out.
JARROD
How was your trip to Chicago and parts unknown?
DAVID
Very retrospective.
JARROD
They say that happens in middle age.
DAVID
(to Kate)
I used to like him.
JARROD
Can we reschedule your look at my outline?
DAVID
Sure. Let me check my calendar.
KATE
My first chapter comes first.
JARROD
But of course.
(to David)
Listen, some of us are organizing against the war preparations in the Gulf. You interested in lending a little esteemed faculty support? Professor Brown has already offered to speak.
DAVID
Yes, well, my good friend Kurtis has never met a spotlight he didn’t make a stop in.
(beat)
Let me think about it. We'll talk.
JARROD
What's to think about? You're the man who's just cleaned the Right's clock. You'd make the perfect -- forgive the word -- elder statesman.
DAVID
Actually, if you read closely, the book is more analysis than polemic. But don't you think these things require thought?
JARROD
I'd have thought you'd already -- unless you're worried. Because of that newspaper series? I heard about the ethics committee. You're not worried about antagonizing them, are you?
KATE
You don’t think that's something to worry about?
JARROD
Sure. But --
(to David)
No one else is worried about what you may have done back in '71.
DAVID
Oh, really? And is that because "no one else" thinks I did it? Or because the possibility that I may have once bombed a government research laboratory anoints me with a certain cheap radical éclat?
KATE
(a hand, to calm him)
David...
DAVID
(pause)
I'm sorry. We'll talk about it. I promise.
(Jarrod nods, sorry for the conflict. He starts to leave.)
JARROD
I'm heading out back.
(He points to David's wine, then tokes an imaginary joint.)
JARROD
(continuing)
Care to mix a little pleasure with your pleasure?
DAVID
I'm middle-aged, remember?
(Jarrod smiles and moves on. A doorbell rings. Lights out on Kate as David walks across stage. The bell rings again as David picks up his briefcase and answers the door to Agent Strait.)
AGENT STRAIT
Prof. Rich? Prof. David Rich?
DAVID
Yes? Listen I was just leaving for work.
AGENT STRAIT
(holding out his ID)
Agent Strait, Federal Bureau of Investigation. I'd like to talk with you if I may. May I come in?
(David pauses, soberly backs away to let Strait in.)
AGENT STRAIT
(continuing)
I'm here --
DAVID
I can guess why you're here.
AGENT STRAIT
Good. Then I don't have to bore you with a long explanation.
DAVID
Is the FBI reopening the case?
AGENT STRAIT
The case was never officially closed. There were, as you know, accomplices --
DAVID
No. Wait. See, I'm presuming you're here to find out what I know. You, on the other hand, are already assuming --
AGENT STRAIT
I'm not assuming anything, Professor. And there's no need to start off hostile.
DAVID
No nee -- Listen, Agent Strait -- That was a joke, right?
AGENT STRAIT
What was a --
DAVID
Never mind.
AGENT STRAIT
I don't joke.
DAVID
No, I'm sure you don't.
AGENT STRAIT
This is not a joking matter.
DAVID
Really? I wasn't sure. Thanks for the heads up.
AGENT STRAIT
(beat)
Let's start again...
DAVID
You've obviously been brought up to speed on the case. Then I presume you're aware I was questioned at the time. I was as cooperative as --
AGENT STRAIT
We're aware of your cooperation thirteen months after the fact. People cooperate for many different reasons.
DAVID
There was nothing in that article to implicate me.
(On the screen above: David liked to think he was so American -- in the original, radical sense. He liked to quote Tom Paine: "Government, even in its best state, is but a necessary evil; in its worst state, an intolerable one. Government, like dress, is the badge of lost innocence.")
AGENT STRAIT
No. Not directly, so far. But it raised questions.
DAVID
In your boss's mind, whoever he is. You're too young to have a bug up your ass about the sixties.
AGENT STRAIT
The only thing I have a bug up my ass about, Prof. Rich, is murder, now or twenty years ago. But since you mention it, it does seem I have to hear about the "sixties" all the time. The sixties and the boomers. Considering how much you all seemed to fuck everything up, it's a wonder everyone pays you so much attention.
DAVID
Yeah, well, maybe your generation will be the one that gets it all right.
AGENT STRAIT
(pause)
Well, now. We've got that out of the way. Now I'd like to ask you some questions.
(David leads Agent Strait to the door.)
DAVID
You may find this hard to believe, Agent, but I have nothing against the FBI. Not in principle, anyway. Call and give me some notice — so I can have my attorney with me — and I'll be happy to talk with you.
(David points the way out.)
AGENT STRAIT
If you'd like to play it that way.
DAVID
Oh, I think I'd like to play it that way.
(Agent Strait leaves. David turns with a sigh, hangs his head from the weight of it all.)
AJA
⇐ Part 5, “Radical confessions”
⇒ Part 7, “I want to know who my father is” (July 19, 2025)
All writing at Homo Vitruvius is free during the week of its publication. It then moves into the paid subscriber archive. At the new monthly subscriber rate, access to the archive costs only $2 per month. Your paid monthly subscriptions and, if you can afford it, your annual subscriptions, are deeply appreciated and help sustain my writing. However, What We Were Thinking Of will be an exception. Access to each installment — to the whole play as it publishes — will remain free for the length of the serialization.
Poet. Storyteller. Dramatist. Essayist. Artificer.
I very much like how you pace this; the transitions are smooth, with the conversations picked up at apt points. And, as I've remarked before, the dialogue is excellent.
The conflict moves on with dialogue that advances the play and the tension--as "the badge of lost innocence" moves on. Terrific and powerful, Jay.