Judge, a play by Callen Harty

SCENE ONE

(Lights up on an election night party at the home of Judge Folks; it is late; only a few diehard followers remain; the phone rings)

MRS. FOLKS: The phone. The phone’s ringing.

JUDGE FOLKS: I hear that. It has a bell. That we can all hear.

MRS. FOLKS: I’ll get it.

JUDGE FOLKS: No, I’ll get it. I’m sure it’s for me. It’s probably the results. (He picks up the phone) Hello, Judge Folks’ residence. Yes, it is. No, no I haven’t heard. The last I heard there were about 20 votes separating us. I have to get off the line. I’ll call you when I know.

(He hangs up the phone)

BUDDY: Ja win?

JUDGE FOLKS: Not yet. That was my sister, wondering the same.

BUDDY: Must be close. You shoulda known by now.

JUDGE FOLKS: It should have been over by now. It shouldn’t be close at all. That clown shouldn’t have had a chance.

TOM: I must admit I’m surprised.

JUDGE FOLKS: I’ve been a faithful servant for years.

MRS. FOLKS: Remember your first election night? I think we were up later than this. Less than a hundred votes separating the two of you, out of how many voters?

BUDDY: I dunno, must be ‘bout a hunert in the county total, ain’t there?

JUDGE FOLKS: A few more than that, Buddy, a few more than that.

MRS. FOLKS: Well, it was a close one, that’s all I know. It was a close one, I know that.

(The phone rings again)

JUDGE FOLKS: I’ll get it. (He picks up the phone) Hello, Folks’ residence, Folks here. Yes, I said . . . State Journal? In Madison? Yes? What do you mean, how do I feel about losing? I haven’t heard any results yet. No, the race isn’t over. I don’t care what you’ve heard. I haven’t heard a thing and I’m the judge. I’m the incumbent. You’d think they’d call me before you. Well, I don’t care where you’re at right now. It . . .

MRS. FOLKS: There’s something on the radio.

JUDGE FOLKS: Just a moment. They’re announcing it on the radio. Hold on.

TOM: I didn’t hear what they said.

MRS. FOLKS: That was the coroner.

TOM: Turn it up.

(She turns up the sound)
RADIO VOICE: The one major incumbent to go down to defeat in the county appears to be Judge Folks. With 98% reporting, the count stands at 524 for the challenger and 475 for the incumbent. In other races . . .

JUDGE FOLKS: Turn it off.

RADIO VOICE: . . . it looks like the school board . . .

MRS. FOLKS: It’s not over. He said 98%.

RADIO VOICE: . . . will stay the same . . .

JUDGE FOLKS: I said turn it off! (She turns off the radio) Hello. Yes, I’m still here.

BUDDY: I think I’ll let m’self out now.

JUDGE FOLKS: Well, from what I understand they’re not done counting yet. That’s what the radio said. I’ll have a comment when all the votes are tallied. Call back in the morning. I need to get some rest. Good night. (He hangs up the phone) They love to see a man go down, don’t they?

BUDDY: ‘Night, Judge, I’as just leavin’, so . . .

JUDGE FOLKS: They all love to see a man go down.

MRS. FOLKS: ‘Night, Buddy.

BUDDY: ‘Night.

JUDGE FOLKS: Bastards.

(Buddy exits; Mrs. Folks crosses to the judge)

TOM: It’s okay. We’ll get ‘em next time.

MRS. FOLKS: It was close. You could ask for a recount. It sounded close. (Turning to Tom) He could ask for a recount, don’t you think?

JUDGE FOLKS: And you think I’d get a fair recount? Any fairer than the count tonight?

MRS. FOLKS: It can’t hurt to ask.

JUDGE FOLKS: The lawyers had it in for me. They wanted me out of office. They’d rather see justice decided by the farmers’ pigs than to see clients meaningfully sentenced. They demand justice, but they want a judge who will render it only when it’s in their own best interests. Matters of law are only matters of convenience. The whole lot of them should be hung, and not like a jury. They deserve everything they get.

TOM: It’s okay. Don’t take it so hard. Your family still loves you. You’re still my brother. It’s a fluke.

JUDGE FOLKS: True justice is a fluke. This election was real. It showed what these men are truly like. It showed what lengths they’ll go to . . .

TOM: Look, I’m going home. It’s late. Try to get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?

JUDGE FOLKS: Give me a call.

TOM: I will. Get some sleep. Good night, Mary.

(He kisses her cheek, hugs his brother, and leaves; Judge Folks turns away, looking out the window)

MRS. FOLKS: If it helps you to know, I voted for you. I would’ve done it twice if I could, if I wouldn’t get caught. I would’ve voted for you twice.

JUDGE FOLKS: What’ll I do? It’s almost all I’ve ever done. It’s all I know. For almost 20 years I’ve devoted my life to this. I thought I could retire before this happened.

MRS. FOLKS: Let’s retire now, for the night. Let’s say our prayers and go to bed. (They start to exit) We’ll worry about the future when it comes. It’ll come. It always does. We’ll worry about it then.

(They exit as lights fade to black)

SCENE TWO

(Lights up on election night party at Mr. Seeger’s house; all actors not in scene one will be in this scene; Mr. Seeger is just hanging up the phone as the lights come up)

MR. SEEGER: That was the State Journal. 98% of the votes are counted, and there’s a difference of 49 votes. He hasn’t conceded yet, but it appears to be over.

(The guests applaud and cheer)

MRS. SEEGER: I thought it was never going to end. Promise me you won’t make the next one so close.

MR. SEEGER: The votes aren’t even all tallied and she has me running again. Man, this woman keeps me going.

MR. SMALL (shaking Mr. Seeger’s hand): Congratulations, partner. I knew you could do it.

MR. SEEGER: Thank you.

EDITOR: Seeger, I’ll have my big-city paperboy interview the judge. But let me ask you, wha’d’you have ta say?

MR. SEEGER: Nothing, really.

EDITOR: C’mon, there must be something.

MAN: Speech! Speech!

MR. SEEGER: No speech. It’s not my style.

SECOND MAN: I thought you were a lawyer.

EDITOR: Ya have to say somethin’

MAN: Speech! Speech! Speech!

OLD MAN: Well, let him, for land’s sake.

MRS. SEEGER (to Editor): My husband is suddenly shy. That’s news in itself.

MR. SEEGER: Okay, I’ll say this. Thank you. Thank you to all of my supporters for your belief in me and in our cause. But this election wasn’t about me. It was about the people taking power back. It was about winning for a cause. It was about returning the enforcement of our laws to our peers. I believe Judge Folks is a good man, and I wish him well, but I believe his time was done. I believe he no longer had the interests of the people at heart. I believe that with this victory, your victory, we march forward in time. As I’m sure you’re aware, our state motto is “Forward”. Let us keep moving in that direction. Thanks again for your belief and support. Let’s enjoy the moment.

(He raises his glass; the guests applaud as the lights go to black)

SCENE THREE

(Judge Folks enters and paces for a bit; he crosses down left and looks off in the distance; Mrs. Folks enters; Judge Folks turns and looks at her, then turns back away)

JUDGE FOLKS: There are no stars in the sky tonight.

MRS. FOLKS: It’s late. Why don’t you come to bed?

JUDGE FOLKS: I couldn’t sleep.

MRS. FOLKS: And I can’t sleep without you. It’s late.

JUDGE FOLKS: You mentioned that. (He looks back out the window) But I have too much on my mind. (Looking out) Hmm, I don’t see any clouds either. It looks like a clear night, like there should be millions of stars, but I don’t see a single one. I’d like to see one. It’s just dark, and empty.

MRS. FOLKS: You’re my star.

JUDGE FOLKS: Don’t patronize me. It’s not flattering. To either you or me.

MRS. FOLKS: I wasn’t trying to be flattering. I mean it. I love you, you know, and you are my star. I do mean it, you know.

(He nods and looks at her deeply)

JUDGE FOLKS: What happened, Mary?

MRS. FOLKS: What d’you mean, what happened?

JUDGE FOLKS: Well, it wasn’t so long ago we were in high school together. You were the prettiest girl in town back then. Heck, in the whole county. And I wasn’t so bad either, if I do say so myself. Perfect sweethearts if you ask me. But where did it go? It was so fast. The prom, football games, graduation and then off to college. Where did it go? Making love in the back of that Chevy station wagon. Then the government decided to make war, not love, and I went off to fight and you promised you’d wait for me.

MRS. FOLKS: And I did.

JUDGE FOLKS: And you did. You always kept your promises. I came back for you when I was done, because I keep mine, too. We got married, and, of course, settled in the old hometown.

MRS. FOLKS: Those were good days. Those were the best days of my life. Anything was possible. We had the boys.

JUDGE FOLKS: Then I won an election, and another, and another. And even another. Until tonight, when it should have been another.

MRS. FOLKS: Until tonight.

JUDGE FOLKS: Where did it go wrong?

MRS. FOLKS: It didn’t go wrong. I don’t think it went wrong.

JUDGE FOLKS: Well, where did it go, at least, if not wrong? Where did it go? Look at us tonight. Seriously. We’re not young anymore. We’re tired. I look at your face and I still find beauty in it, but it’s not a young face anymore.

MRS. FOLKS: Thanks, I needed to hear that.

JUDGE FOLKS: Well, mine isn’t either. Believe me, I know that. I look at myself and I don’t know who I am. I don’t recognize me. I’m no longer the young fighter, I know that. And now, I don’t even have a job. The kids have grown up so fast, and somehow I missed that, too. Where was I? Life has passed me by and . . . and I don’t even know where it went, do you?

MRS. FOLKS: No, I don’t. Time passes. It’s part of living. It’s just part of living.

JUDGE FOLKS: The sad thing is I have no more dreams. If I am your star, then your star has fallen without a wish. Mary, I feel like I’m getting old. That’s what it is. Everything’s gone already and my life’s half over, or more, maybe a lot more.

MRS. FOLKS: Don’t say that. We have a good life, a real good life.

JUDGE FOLKS: Had. There’s nothing left.

MRS. FOLKS: We have each other.

JUDGE FOLKS: We do. But in a vacuum. Like space.

MRS. FOLKS: The house, the kids. We have a lot. It’s okay. (No answer) Really, it’s okay. Let’s go to bed.

(She starts to lead him off)

JUDGE FOLKS: No one can hear me scream. Not even you.

MRS. FOLKS: I feel it. I really do. Let’s go to bed. The sun will be up in the morning and it’ll be brighter than any of the night stars. Let’s go to bed.

JUDGE FOLKS: I want to scream.

(They exit; lights to black)

SCENE FOUR

(Lights up to morning at The Journal offices)

EDITOR: I’ll bet he just screamed when he heard the news.

REPORTER: Have you talked to him yet?

EDITOR: That’d be your job. That’s why I’m the editor and you’re the lowly reporter. I got to talk to the winner. You get to talk to the judge about it.

REPORTER: Do I get hazard pay?

EDITOR: Ya know this is a small local paper. If ya hazard to write for it at all, ya do it at the pay we offered when you came on board.

(Sheriff enters)

REPORTER: Morning, Sheriff.

EDITOR: Hey, Sheriff. Nice day.

SHERIFF: Yup, it is. Sun’s up. Cain’t go wrong there.

EDITOR: Congrats on the re-election.

SHERIFF: Ah, you’re jus’ sayin’ that so’s I don’t pull you over any time soon. One “Get out of jail free” card.

EDITOR: I simply believe in staying on the good side of the law.

SHERIFF: Ain’t really no bad side of it ‘roun’ here, d’ya think?

EDITOR: Nah, not really. What can I do you for?

SHERIFF: Jus’ checkin’ on the other races. Figered ya’d know before anyone else. Wanna know who to say what to, ya know.

REPORTER: Or what not to.

EDITOR: Yeah on both. Well, one big change in elective office. The judge is out. Like everyone thought.

SHERIFF: I ‘s afraid a that. That boy’s gonna be hotter than a tabby in a barn fire over it, too.

REPORTER (stifling a laugh): Ah, I love this town.

EDITOR: Yeah, he’ll be mad all right.

REPORTER: Sheriff, I have to write a story. Do you have any quotes about the election?

SHERIFF: Aah, I dunno. I guess jus’ thank the people for votin’ the way they did. They know what’s best. And I guess I, uh, I guess I’ll try to do the best job I kin do for ‘um. Thank ‘um. I guess thank ‘um for me. (Beat) I guess that’s it. I shu’be goin’.

EDITOR: Sheriff?

SHERIFF: Uh-uh.

EDITOR: Ask ‘em all to be nice to ‘im. He is one of our own. He’s a vet, and you know around here we think all vets deserve respect. He did a good job for a long time.

REPORTER: ‘Til it went to his head apparently.

EDITOR: I’m saying we should be nice. Everyone.

SHERIFF: I getcha. I’ll pass it aroun’. See ya.

(Sheriff exits)

REPORTER: He kills me.

EDITOR: You know, one thing you really need to learn is ya don’t come movin’ into some town fresh outta college and be thinkin’ you’re better than everyone here. Ya know that? If you wanna be a reporter, a good reporter, and you want people to trust ya enough to let ya write about ‘em, then you best learn how to behave like ‘em. You can’t be so high-falutin’ you alienate the people you need. You need to learn that.

REPORTER: Yes, sir, I’m sorry.

EDITOR: Now, you better get to work on your story. Those people expect to read the news.

REPORTER: As if everyone around here doesn’t know what’s going on before they get the paper. We just verify the rumors for them.

EDITOR: Hey, hey . . . what’d I just say? If verifying is what we do then you better go verify. There’s bound to be lots of rumors to check on.

(Reporter is about to leave, but stops at the door)

REPORTER: There he is now, the judge. He looks mad.

EDITOR: Wouldn’t you be?

REPORTER: I guess I would. All the same I think I’ll wait ‘til he’s passed.

EDITOR: Damn, you got a lot to learn. That’s your story. Go. (Reporter exits) Kids, jeez. They don’t teach ‘em anything in college these days.

(Lights quick fade to black)

SCENE FIVE

(Lights up on lawyers’ office; Mr. Small is seated as Mr. Seeger enters)

MR. SMALL: Ah, my partner in crime. Good morning, Judge Seeger—how does that sound to you—Judge Seeger, and congratulations once again on your election to the highest office in the county. Oh, and thanks for the party last night. It was good.

MR. SEEGER: Thank you for all your help. Really, I couldn’t have done it without you or the other guys.

MR. SMALL: I know, and you’re welcome. You know, we never talked about this, but how can I practice in this county now? I’m the law partner of the newly elected judge. Forgetting the fact that virtually all of my work is wills, deeds and other paperwork, there is a potential conflict of interest with you in office.

MR. SEEGER: In this county there’s a potential conflict of interest with everyone in the courtoom.

MR. SMALL: And in Judge Folks’ court, just a potential conflict.

MR. SEEGER: Be nice. The campaign is over. The mudslinging can stop.

MR. SMALL: Ah, your first judgement, but I think I’ll appeal to the court of public opinion.

MR. SEEGER: Really, I feel bad for him. He’s been at the job since longer than I can remember. He’s bound to be upset.

MR. SMALL: And this is something new? The man who is known for tirades in the kingdom of his courtroom might be upset? That would be a huge surprise. It is his own fault, you know.

MR. SEEGER: I know. In all humility I have to admit that I think far fewer people voted for me than against him.

MR. SMALL: He forgot his roots. He got too big for his britches. He forgot who put him there and that they could just as easily remove him.

MR. SEEGER: He was good when he started.

MR. SMALL: I’ve heard that. So what happened?

MR. SEEGER: I don’t know. Power? I hope to God it doesn’t happen to me.

MR. SMALL: It won’t. You’re a little too connected to people. And you’ll always have me to harass you and remind you.

MR. SEEGER: Remind me what?

MR. SMALL: That this is a small place with its own ways.

MR. SEEGER: Meaning?

MR. SMALL: Meaning, you put a farmer in jail at ten o’clock for public drunkenness you have to let him out at 4:30 and drive him home so he can milk the cows. If you remember that you’ll be fine.

MR. SEEGER: Good advice.

MR. SMALL: I know.

MR. SEEGER: He was a bit harsh wasn’t he?

MR. SMALL: A bit? Nobody else would send the number of kids he did off to prison. Nobody else would give maximum sentences for first offenses. Nobody else would be as unyielding in his interpretations of the law, or as much of a tyrant in his own little country courtroom kingdom.

MR. SEEGER: I guess you’re right. No one else would consistently create such high bail for defendants.

MR. SMALL: Or refuse signature bonds. In one of the poorest counties of the state. You can’t refuse signature bonds here as a general rule. Believe me, there are no more than a handful of lawyers in this county who wanted him re-elected. The rest will no longer have to ask for substitutions. It’s a relief.

MR. SEEGER (looking out the window): There he is, across the street.

MR. SMALL: Who?

MR. SEEGER: The judge.

MR. SMALL: I’m sure he’s coming to offer his congratulations.

MR. SEEGER: No, he’s just sitting in his car. I wonder what he’s doing.

MR. SMALL: Shouldn’t he be in court?

MR. SEEGER: I don’t know. One would think . . .

MR. SMALL: Maybe he cleared the docket for a celebration hangover.

MR. SEEGER: I think he saw me looking.

MR. SMALL: So what’s he doing now?

MR. SEEGER: Leaving. He’s pulling away. That was odd.

MR. SMALL: Odd would be a term that has fit the judge for some time now.

MR. SEEGER: Be nice. Remember he doesn’t give up the office until I’m sworn in and that’s a number of weeks away. You might have to go up before him again. I know I do. In the meantime, I need to talk to you about my caseload. Why don’t you step into my office?

MR. SMALL: Ah, the secret inner sanctum of the new judge.

MR. SEEGER: I’m going to have to distribute my clients around, or something, and I need your advice.

(They start to exit)

MR. SMALL: Well, if you’re giving bodies away I want our merchant friend who now wants to plead innocent but was dumb enough to sign a confession.

(Lights fade out as the two lawyers exit)

SCENE SIX

(Lights up on a Catholic church; a priest enters opposite; genuflects center stage and then crosses the stage; Judge Folks enters and crosses to the priest)

JUDGE FOLKS: Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been about four months since my last confession. In that time I have committed many sins.

PRIEST: In that time, me too.

JUDGE FOLKS (enjoying the joke): Thank you, Father.

PRIEST: You’re welcome. Now, what kinds of sins are we talking about?

JUDGE FOLKS: I’ve let my temper get the best of me. I’ve let my pride get the best of me. I’ve let my ego get the best of me. I guess in the last four months and before.

PRIEST: These are all things that are hard for men to control. Are you sorry for your sins and the damage they have done?

JUDGE FOLKS: Yes, I’m sorry.

PRIEST: And have you hurt others as a result of these things?

JUDGE FOLKS: I think I have, I’d guess, but I can’t speak for them. I can only speak for myself. I can’t answer for what other people feel or do. There’s no way I can know what’s in other people’s heads, whether I’ve hurt them or not.

PRIEST: But you think you have?

JUDGE FOLKS: Yes, I guess I have. Haven’t you?

PRIEST: Well, your Honor, I’m not the one confessing now, am I?

JUDGE FOLKS: No, you’re not. So, Father, let me ask you another question. Why do we have this silly booth when you know damned well who everyone is?

PRIEST: I’ll go ahead and add swearing—in church, no less—to your list of sins. And the resulting penance.

JUDGE FOLKS: Oh, sorry.

PRIEST: Seriously, in answer to your question, sometimes, in the darkness of the confessional, one’s shame can be hidden even when the sins are in the open. As dark and scary as it can seem for people it is also for your protection. Let me ask, how have you let these things control you? What specifically have you done wrong for which you feel guilt?

JUDGE FOLKS: I’ve been mean to Mary, I think. She’s a good woman, but in my anger I sometimes am very mean to her.

PRIEST: And what did you mean about ego?

JUDGE FOLKS: I realized after the election, Father, that I had allowed my own ambition to control my entire life, to the point that I had neglected my family. I don’t even know my sons. They’re young adults now and I don’t remember them growing up. Somewhere along the line they grew into young men and I wasn’t there. I don’t remember a moment of it. My wife, she’s a living memory—we live in the same space and time—but I don’t know her. I only know what she was, what we were together. I don’t know myself. I don’t know God anymore. I’ve been selfish and self-centered for my entire adult life. Maybe my entire life. I feel like I’ve let everyone down. I feel like a terrible failure and a terrible man. (Long pause) Am I? Father, am I a terrible man? Am I an evil man?

PRIEST: I can’t answer that for you.

JUDGE FOLKS: If you can’t, who can?

PRIEST: First of all, things are not that black and white in the real world, only in Rome. Secondly, it is not for me to judge, but to forgive. I provide absolution, not absolutes. Only God can judge a man. Only you can know in your heart of hearts whether you are a good or evil man. I can’t tell you that.

JUDGE FOLKS: You’re a priest. You know the book.

PRIEST: I can tell you that to my knowledge I’ve never met a truly evil man. I know that the fact that you came here today tells me that your heart is troubled and that you are reaching out for help. That speaks well of you. It tells me your conscience is alive still.

(Pause)

JUDGE FOLKS: Father, I have had some horrible thoughts the last number of days, thoughts that are unspeakable. (Long pause) The utterance would horrify you. (Long silence) Don’t you have anything to say?

PRIEST: I can’t respond if you don’t tell me what these thoughts are, but I have to believe that if they are as horrible as you think they are then keeping them silent must be far more horrible than sharing them with me.

JUDGE FOLKS: I can’t

PRIEST: Why did you bring it up?

JUDGE FOLKS: I want to. I want help. But I can’t let anyone, not even you, know what I am thinking.

(Pause)

PRIEST: Know that I am here if you need me, as I’m sure your wife is. As Jesus said, “Knock, and the door shall be opened unto you.” Any time, day or night. Remember that.

JUDGE FOLKS: Thank you, Father. Do me a favor and pray for me. For these and all my sins, spoken and unspoken, I am truly sorry.

PRIEST: For your penance, say ten Hail Marys, ten Our Fathers and an Act of Contrition. I will pray for you, but I beg you, for those sins unspoken, speak directly to God and ask for his forgiveness and guidance.

JUDGE FOLKS: Thank you, Father, I will.

PRIEST: And, Judge, I’m sorry you lost.

JUDGE FOLKS: Thank you, Father.

(He exits; a woman and Buddy enter the church at the same time; the woman gets to the confessional first and enters; Buddy looks at it for a moment)

BUDDY: Ah, hell, so’s I got drunk a coupla times in the past week, big deal, so . . .

WOMAN (as the lights fade to black): Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession.

BUDDY: He don’t need to know that. ‘s small stuff.

(Buddy turns and starts to exit)

WOMAN: I lied once, I swore two times, and I dishonored my own mother. For these and all my sins I am sorry.

PRIEST: Excuse me a moment. (Stepping out of the confessional just a bit) Psst, hey, hey, Buddy, Buddy. (Buddy stops and turns) Buddy, share it with God. Say three Hail Marys and an Act of Contrition. But you have to share it with God. You’re forgiven.

BUDDY: Thanks, Father, ‘preciate it.

PRIEST: No problem. However, one of these weeks you should actually come in for a few minutes. We can go into all the gory details then.

BUDDY: Sure, I kin do that.

(He exits; Priest steps back into the confessional)

PRIEST: Okay, continue.

WOMAN: Father, are we almost done? My knees are killing me already.

PRIEST: Sometimes we suffer for God. It’s part of the whole penance thing. I’ll subtract a Hail Mary for you.

WOMAN: Thank you, Father. My knees thank you.

(Lights out on confessional)

SCENE SEVEN

MR. SEEGER: Oh, no.

MR. SEEGER: But your Honor . . .

MR. SEEGER: Your Honor, I must protest . . .

MR. SEEGER: Yes, the District Attorney and I . . .

MR. SEEGER: We’ll appeal. We’ll protest.

MR. SEEGER (trying to comfort the girl): We’ll appeal. Where is the girl’s mother?

MR. SEEGER: You will. I promise, you will. (Turning to the District Attorney) He can’t get away with this.

MR. SEEGER: But his argument was good, that legally he doesn’t have to accept recommendations that come out of a plea bargain. We’re screwed.

SCENE EIGHT

MR. SEEGER: That son of a bitchin’ judge.

MR. SEEGER: Oh, I’m sorry. (Recognizing who it is) Oh, I am sorry.

MR. SEEGER: No, it was nothing personal, Tom. I’m just a little upset. We had a plea agreement that the judge just scuttled. A good agreement that satisfied all the involved parties. Apparently with the exception of one.

MR. SEEGER: It’s not you. You don’t have to answer for him. Forget it. We’ll appeal. I assume you brought the case papers for me to look at?

MR. SEEGER: Yes, it was. And it’s just one in a series of oddities over the past week or so.

MR. SEEGER: I’ve been seeing him everywhere. Of course, when I go to court, he’s there showing me he still holds the power.

MR. SEEGER: But aside from that . . . I was at the grocery store the other day and it was like he was in every aisle at the same time as me. I go to get gas, and who should happen to be parked across the street or just pulling in for gas at the same time? Two times in neighboring towns. It’s getting downright scary. I’ve seen him more since the election than I ever saw him in court.

MR. SEEGER: What can I do? He has the right to shop and travel as much as I do. It just makes me a little uneasy. It seems more than incidental. And he stares, he looks at me, like he’s accusing me of something, like he’s looking through me. I don’t like it.

MR. SEEGER: I can’t show cause. I’m sure I’m imagining it. He does drive a fairly popular kind of car, and there are people who remind you of other people. Maybe it’s my own guilt for winning the election that’s causing my mind to play tricks on me. I can’t wait until I’m sworn in and the election season has passed.

MR. SEEGER: I will.

MR. SEEGER: It’s just the girl. She was devastated.

MR. SEEGER: It could ruin her life. He has no concept of the pain he’s capable of inflicting on other people. He only thinks of his own revenge and his own ego. I feel bad for anybody who upsets him.

MR. SEEGER: And you.

SCENE NINE

(A scream is heard; lights come up dimly on the judge’s house as he enters; he is panting and trying to catch his breath; after a moment Mrs. Folks enters)

MRS. FOLKS: Honey, what’s wrong?

JUDGE FOLKS: I had a dream, a nightmare. I was afraid to stay in bed.

MRS. FOLKS: What was it? Tell me about it.

JUDGE FOLKS: I can’t . . . I’m trying to remember . . . trying to forget . . . details, they get . . .

MRS. FOLKS: What?

JUDGE FOLKS: It was an eye. Just an eye, like in a triangle or something. It followed me everywhere I went. You know, like the eye on the back of the dollar bill. That’s what it looked like. How it’s always there, just watching. But it wasn’t just an eye. It was an eye that could see inside my thoughts. It could hear me thinking and I could look at it and tell that it was judging me and that I was falling well short of some kind of standard.

MRS. FOLKS: Oh, no, you’re not. Don’t do that to . . .

JUDGE FOLKS: There was also some kind of Indian witch doctor or something. He put his fingers on my temples and it was like he could read my mind. He turned away from me and his back became trees bent down in the wind and he was gone. I don’t know what he saw. The eye, the eye thing, was watching that too, and saw him leave me. I couldn’t escape its accusing gaze. It was tormenting me. I had to get rid of it, so I got a shotgun out of the cabinet and went looking for it. I found it sitting at a table in a restaurant, I looked at it, aimed . . . it looked at me, pleaded with me not to do it . . . but it also showed me . . . when I looked at it . . . it showed me all of my sins, like a film montage, like I was in the middle of some strange foreign film, or falling into death and reliving only the horrible moments of my life . . . and so I pulled the trigger.

MRS. FOLKS: That’s good. That’s good. You got rid of it. You got rid of the problem.

JUDGE FOLKS: No, I created a problem. When I looked up it wasn’t just an eye. It was a man, sitting there with his head blown off, with his eye blown out of its socket.

MRS. FOLKS: What? Who?

JUDGE FOLKS: Does it matter who? The point is I killed a man in cold blood.

MRS. FOLKS: You got rid of some demons.

JUDGE FOLKS: No, I didn’t, not at all. Do you know what it’s like to realize that you have that within yourself?

MRS. FOLKS: Honey, you were a soldier. Of course you know what it’s like . . .

JUDGE FOLKS: Shut up! We’re not talking about the war here! You know I don’t like talking about the war! Shut up! Just shut up! I don’t . . . that’s different. That’s a different kind of killing. That was war. This in my dream was cold-blooded murder. This was just shooting a man for no good reason.

MRS. FOLKS: You didn’t know it was a man. It was a symbol. It was just a dream. Let it go.

JUDGE FOLKS: You know what? I had no remorse. That’s the bad thing. That’s scarier than doing it, I think. I had no remorse. I felt nothing. It was just an emptiness like that dark sky the other night.

MRS. FOLKS: That is . . . it was a dream.

JUDGE FOLKS: And dreams come from somewhere. I’ve had thoughts. Everyone’s had thoughts. But I didn’t know I could do it. I didn’t know I could until this very moment. Somewhere deep inside me I am no different than any common criminal who has come before me.

MRS. FOLKS: Stop talking like that. I don’t want to hear it. You’re a good man.

JUDGE FOLKS: I’m not sure I believe that.

MRS. FOLKS: You should talk to a priest.

JUDGE FOLKS: I have.

(Pause)

MRS. FOLKS (moving toward him): What is going on?

JUDGE FOLKS: I don’t know. Leave me alone.

(He breaks away from her and crosses out; she looks after him, then kneels, crosses herself, says a quick silent prayer, crosses herself, and gets back up; Judge Folks re-enters with a rifle)

MRS. FOLKS: What are you doing? What is that for? Why do you have a rifle in your hands?

JUDGE FOLKS: Don’t worry, it’s not for you.

MRS. FOLKS: You just had that dream. Where are you going?

JUDGE FOLKS: I’m going hunting. Is that against the law?

MRS. FOLKS: No, but it’s almost midnight. Did you know that? It’s near midnight. And you haven’t hunted for years. What are you going hunting for at midnight?

JUDGE FOLKS: Nocturnal animals.

(He starts to cross to the door)

MRS. FOLKS: Don’t go. Don’t. Where are you going?

JUDGE FOLKS: You should know me better than to be worried. (He turns toward her) I’m going hunting. It doesn’t matter what time it is. That’s all.

MRS. FOLKS: I don’t get it. I don’t know you anymore.

JUDGE FOLKS: I don’t either. That’s why I’m going. I have to see what I feel.

(He turns and exits; she goes to the door and looks out after him; lights to black)

SCENE TEN

(Lights up on a downtown tavern; Buddy, Tom, and a few other people are there)

BUDDY: So’s I thought the Pack was gonna kick some ass this year, but ev’ry game they jus’ like fall down ‘n die. I was watchin’ it at Dora’s and she looks at the screen and goes, “Gawd, a high school team could beat ‘em”.

TOM: I think they could.

BUDDY: I thought so, too, so I go, “A high school girl team if there was such a thing.”

TOM: That’d be interesting.

BUDDY: Then she goes, “A junior high girl team”, and we keep goin’ lower ‘n lower, grade school, kindergarten, ‘til she fine’ly goes, “A buncha fetuses could score more points at an abortion clinic” and I thought I was gonna die she was killin’ me so bad.

TOM: Jesus, that’s sort of sick, Buddy.

BUDDY: Ya think? I thought it was a hoot. Honest to God, I laughed so hard I missed three plays and a huddle. Anyway, they do suck this year, that’s the point of it all. They suck bad.

TOM: Well, I still think the joke went too far. That’s really not that funny.

BUDDY: You don’t hafta think so, I guess. The point wasn’t the joke. The joke was the point.

(Judge Folks enters and throws a dead rabbit on the bar/table)

JUDGE FOLKS: I got me a rabbit, boys.

TOM: What the hell are you doing?

JUDGE FOLKS: Hunting rabbits.

BUDDY: ‘s a nice one.

BARTENDER: What the . . . get that thing off my bar, Judge. Man, sometimes your family . . .

JUDGE FOLKS: Looking for probation revocation?

BARTENDER: No, I just thought it was sort a . . .

JUDGE FOLKS: Good, then mind your own business. (Bartender walks away; goes to other customers; they talk and look toward the judge) I never did like that guy. Tom, I’m starting to think that people are looking at me weird, that they’re watching me and judging me, that they’re sort of studying my every move.

TOM: Well, if they weren’t before they might be after you come in here and throw a dead rabbit down. That’s not exactly something you see in public every night. Between the two of you I feel like I’m in a loony bin. You don’t see things like this every day. You don’t hear such terrible things every day. I think I need a break from you guys.

JUDGE FOLKS: I need a drink. You know what else you don’t see around here? You don’t see people who care about anything, except other people’s business. That’s all they care about—gossip, laughing behind their neighbors’ backs at their neighbors’ misfortunes—

TOM: I don’t think so.

BUDDY: Speakin’ of, did ya hear who’s pregnant?

TOM: Whenever there’s a crisis or problem everyone’s on the same page.

JUDGE FOLKS: If you don’t think so you’re either naïve or ignorant. I don’t know. I’ve always hated it. Maybe it makes them feel better about their own dreadful lives. That has to be it.

TOM: What are you talking about? What are you doing here instead of being at home with your wife? And what’s with the damn rabbit?

BUDDY: Looks like a good ‘nuff rabbit to me. I’d skin it.

JUDGE FOLKS: Then take it, Buddy, and get the hell out of here.

BUDDY: I wasn’t ready to go nowhere.

TOM: Buddy, go. I need to talk to my brother.

BUDDY: All right, jeez, ain’t worth a rabbit but I kin tell when I’m not wanted. Jeez.

(Buddy exits)

TOM: What’s the deal?

JUDGE FOLKS: I’ve been feeling sort of strange lately. I’ve been having some bad thoughts. I needed to see if I’d feel anything if I killed a rabbit or some small animal.

TOM: And?

JUDGE FOLKS: It felt good, but I think it’s because the instinct in me takes pride in a successful hunt, so I don’t know if it told me anything.

TOM: What were you looking for?

JUDGE FOLKS: I don’t know, Tom, but I don’t think I thought I’d feel good about it. (Pause, as if he’s had a thought) I’m going home now. I think there’s someone else I need to talk to about this tomorrow.

TOM: Good, Mary will understand.

JUDGE FOLKS: I don’t know about that. I’ll see you. (He takes a couple bills out of his pocket and hands them to Tom) Here, buy yourself a drink. Have a good night.

(Judge Folks exits; Tom signals to the Bartender, who walks back over)

TOM: Here, my brother told me to apologize for the rabbit thing and to give you a tip. He said to tell you he’s sorry.

BARTENDER: Really? Thanks. Nice surprise. Okay, cool. Tell him he’s forgiven.

(Tom exits; lights to black)

SCENE ELEVEN

(Lights up on church; Judge Folks enters and goes to the confessional)

PRIEST: Good afternoon.

JUDGE FOLKS: Father, I’m not here for confession.

PRIEST: Well, I’m sorry, we don’t rent the rooms.

JUDGE FOLKS: Father, I need to talk, just to talk.

PRIEST: Okay. We could go to my office.

JUDGE FOLKS: No, no, here is fine.

PRIEST: All right, what’s on your mind?

JUDGE FOLKS: It’s sort of hard to explain.

PRIEST: I understand. Sometimes if you just start talking about whatever comes to your mind the words you want to say will simply follow.

(Pause)
JUDGE FOLKS: This is going to sound strange to you, but . . . I went hunting yesterday and killed a rabbit.

PRIEST: Hunting is a way of life for some people, especially around here. I don’t see that there’s anything wrong with that.

JUDGE FOLKS: What was wrong was that I didn’t feel anything, and I realized how much I’ve changed. I expected to feel something. I should have. Last night I remembered a time, when I was 17, that I was at a friend’s place in the country and he pulled out a BB gun and let me hold it. I had never touched a gun before that moment. It scared me. I remember we were in his barn. It was late fall and cool. The metal felt cold on my fingers. I held the gun up like I had seen in Westerns and acted as if I were aiming at something and a strange feeling came over me.

PRIEST: What? What was it?

JUDGE FOLKS: Power, I think. All of a sudden my friend said, “Hey, look, there’s a damn sparrow, kill it. They’re worthless.” I asked what he meant by worthless and he said they were common, that there were millions of them around. I held the gun up and I saw one of the sparrows in the sight, so I fired.

PRIEST: You killed it.

JUDGE FOLKS: No, I missed it, of course, because I didn’t know what I was doing. But I tried again when my friend challenged me to kill the thing. He said I probably wasn’t good enough to do it. I probably couldn’t do it. So I waited for it to land. I aimed, I pulled the trigger, and it looked like it was flying, but it was falling to the cement floor of the barn and I beamed with pride at my accuracy. I think he was surprised. I think he thought it was dumb luck. Then I heard him say, “There’s another one. Get it!”, and in a flash I had it in my sights and it, too, was fluttering silently to the floor after I pulled the trigger. Father, I was a natural, but I didn’t hunt anything again until last night.

PRIEST: Why not?
JUDGE FOLKS: Because I saw it up close. Because my friend went and found where one of them had landed and called me over to show me where the BB had gone into its head and killed it. You see, from a distance it was just a target, like a duck at a shooting gallery at the county fair, but up close . . . up close I could see the softness of the feathers and the beauty of the thing, even though it was something so common I must have seen them everyday. I could see markings I had never known were there. I could see its eyes and I knew, even before learning Shakespeare, years before, I knew that the eyes were the mirror of the soul and that I had taken its soul before its time. Because my friend was standing there looking for my response I acted like I was Orion shooting stars out of the night sky. But when I got home my eyes burned with tears all night long and I swore I’d never kill anything again.

PRIEST: But the rabbit? Why . . .

JUDGE FOLKS: I needed to see what I would feel.

PRIEST: And?

JUDGE FOLKS: Nothing.

PRIEST: Did you look into its eyes?

JUDGE FOLKS: No, but I looked into the mirror.

(Long pause)

PRIEST: I’ll pray for you. I’ll do a novena.

JUDGE FOLKS: Father, don’t waste your time. Pray for those around me.

(Blackout)

SCENE TWELVE

(Lights up on Sheriff’s office; Editor is talking with the Sheriff)