November Read online

CHARLES: (Reads) “To boldly address those problems which confront us … with hope …” Who writes this shit?

  (The phone rings.)

  ARCHER: Children from Yale. (ARCHER answers the phone.) Yes?

  CHARLES: Get Bernstein in.

  ARCHER: … she just got in last night. At three a.m.

  CHARLES: Get her in.

  ARCHER: She called to say she’s sick.

  CHARLES: What’s she got, “bird flu”?

  ARCHER: I think she’s just tired.

  CHARLES: She’s just tired. What is she, “nursing”? Oh. I forgot. She’s not “nursing,” ’cause she bought the baby.

  ARCHER: Your ten o’clock appointment.

  CHARLES: Get Bernstein in here. I want to confront her treasonous ass. One thing I’ve learned in this job, Arch?

  ARCHER: Yes.

  CHARLES: One thing… ?

  ARCHER: Yes.

  CHARLES: Is who can you trust?

  ARCHER: You can trust me, Chucky.

  CHARLES: Apart from you.

  ARCHER: Nobody.

  CHARLES: This broad: one, bails out, two, writes my concession speech, three, THREE? Where does she go to write it?

  ARCHER: China.

  CHARLES: Do the math. And pee fucken ess: What in the world, do you think, all these cute li’l Chinese baby girls are gonna do, when they grow up, having eaten our food, learned to play the cello, bested all the white children at math.

  ARCHER: Chuck …

  CHARLES: And looked over the water, at their HOMELAND, the preeminent nation in the world.

  ARCHER: We’re the preeminent nation in the world.

  CHARLES: For how long? Until the All-Star break? AND NOW THEY LOOK AROUND, THESE LITTLE FUCKEN BENEDIK ARNOLDS, seeded, seeded here …

  (The phone rings.)

  ARCHER: (To phone) Yes …?

  CHARLES: By a wily Oriental nation.

  ARCHER: (To phone) I’ll tell him.

  CHARLES: ’Cause they don’t count time, like we do. Arch. Have you noticed this? The Chinese? A thousand years is as a single day to them.

  ARCHER: I think that’s to God.

  CHARLES: No, it’s the Chinese. They can wait. They can afford to wait. They got nothin’ but time. I’m out of time.

  ARCHER: (Of phone) The National Association of …

  CHARLES: Where did I go wrong?

  ARCHER: You lost the election …

  CHARLES: Not yet I haven’t.

  ARCHER: Take the money, and go home. Sell a buncha pardons…

  CHARLES: I should sell pardons …

  ARCHER: Yes.

  CHARLES: … How many people, are both “guilty,” Arch, and have the money …?

  ARCHER: Quite a few. And: under the statute, you have until the election to accumulate quote quote campaign funds.

  CHARLES: (To phone) Get fucken Bernstein in here.

  ARCHER: Any of which, unspent, you can retain for your personal use. For instance:

  CHARLES: (To phone) Well, send my protective detail for her. What do you mean they have the morning off? They only work a half day today? Why? Cutbacks? What’re we spending all the money on—(Pause. To phone) Oh—Well send the Marines. (Pause) Well, where are the Marines? (Pause) All of them …? Is this generally known?

  ARCHER: I fucken hope not. (Hangs up)

  CHARLES: Who is my ten o’clock?

  ARCHER: National Association of Turkey Manufacturers.

  CHARLES: What do they want?

  ARCHER: To pardon their turkey.

  (Pause)

  CHARLES: What did it do?

  ARCHER: It’s a promotional thing.

  CHARLES: And now they want me, these fucken “turkey” people, to “pardon” their turkey …

  ARCHER: They want you to come out.

  CHARLES: To come out where?

  ARCHER: In the anteroom.

  CHARLES: Why?

  ARCHER: The turkeys want to smell your hand.

  (Pause)

  CHARLES: You want me to go into the outer office, to let a turkey smell my hand?

  ARCHER: Two turkeys.

  CHARLES: (Pause. To self) The President of the United States …

  ARCHER: They’re very sensitive.

  CHARLES: Well, so am I. So am I, Archie …

  ARCHER: … so that tomorrow morning, when you come out, and pardon them …

  CHARLES: … and this is what my job comes down to.

  ARCHER: You did it the last three years.

  CHARLES: What did they pay me?

  ARCHER: The usual.

  CHARLES: Which is?

  ARCHER: Fifty grand.

  CHARLES: “Turk-eez,” you said.

  ARCHER: The regular, and an alternate.

  CHARLES: Last year. Ah. Yes. I pardoned one turkey.

  ARCHER: This year they have two.

  CHARLES: … why do they have two?

  ARCHER: Last year the turkey got sick, they were concerned it would die. And, so, this year they have a head turkey and an alternate.

  CHARLES: And what did they pay me last year?

  ARCHER: The same fifty grand.

  CHARLES: Fifty grand, but this year, they have two turkeys.

  ARCHER: That’s right.

  CHARLES: So, the going rate, this year … fifty grand a pop … would be not fifty, but a hundred thousand dollars.

  ARCHER: I’m not sure that they’ve got it in them.

  CHARLES: Well, let’s find out—how much is turkey? (To phone) How much is turkey a pound? No, tell her I’m busy. (Pause) Yeah, all right. Cathy, we’re not at war with Iraq. I misspoke …

  ARCHER: We are at war with Iraq.

  CHARLES: Cathy? We ARE at war with Iraq, we AREN’T at war with Iran. (Pause) I’ll tell you when …(Hangs up phone)

  (The intercom rings. ARCHER answers it.)

  ARCHER: Yes. Turkey is a dollar ninety-eight a pound.

  (He hangs up.)

  CHARLES: Turkey is a dollar ninety-eight a pound …

  ARCHER: Yes.

  CHARLES: All right, suppose. Three hundred million people. Knock out half of them, uh, the old, the young, uh babies, vegetarians.

  ARCHER: The homeless.

  CHARLES: If each American left, simply eats one, ONE pound of turkey … knock off two-thirds, you’ve got a hundred million people. One pound at two bucks a pound. How much is that?

  ARCHER: Two hundred million dollars.

  CHARLES: That is two hundred million dollars. And these little rascals waltz in here with fifty grand. While my wife, Archie, weeps at home “can she re-cover the couch?” Get me the speech broad. I got something to say.

  ARCHER: She’s home sick.

  CHARLES: I don’t care if she’s dead. Fuck her, all of her brilliance.

  ARCHER: She’s sick, Charles.

  CHARLES: I don’t give a f … Gimme that fucken … Get me my speechwriter.

  (He grabs for the phone. ARCHER takes the phone.)

  ARCHER: (To intercom phone) Send a car, please. Call Ms. Bernstein. We need … (To CHARLES) Why do we need her to come in?

  CHARLES: Because I say so.

  ARCHER: (To phone) A grave matter of national security.

  (Hangs up phone)

  CHARLES: Tell her in her words: “Our capacity is only bounded by our dreams.” In her words. So she can just fucken bite the bullet.

  (The phone rings.)

  ARCHER: (Takes phone, listens) Can she work at home?

  CHARLES: YOU TELL THAT BROAD, if she ain’t in her chair ten minutes, I am puttin’ her on the piggy plane.

  ARCHER: Chucky …

  CHARLES: The piggy plane. I am not kidding. You think I’m kidding? Look in my eyes. AT HER DOOR, someone will be at her door.

  ARCHER: Chuck …

  CHARLES: With manacles, and what? A bag over her head. Lest she scream, and a Lear jet …

  ARCHER: Chuck …

  CHARLES: To whisk her on the piggy plane to Prybschych, Bulgaria, to spend the rest of her life as
an enemy combatant. How about that?

  ARCHER: Chuck …

  (The phone rings. ARCHER answers.)

  CHARLES: Because, Arch. If I have to spend. Each moment of my working day, explaining…

  ARCHER: Chuck …

  CHARLES: Cajoling, reassuring, and supervising the work I would have assumed done, then …

  ARCHER: Chuck.

  CHARLES: Then, it’s time for a change.

  ARCHER: Chuck.

  CHARLES: I know what everybody thinks. Chuck Smith. Who is he? He’s an empty suit. Ha-ha. Let him indulge his penchant for …

  ARCHER: … Chuck …

  CHARLES: … for “rhetoric,” for “bombast.” Isn’t it cute how he …

  ARCHER: (Of phone) Chuck. It’s the guy from Iran.

  CHARLES: … takes everything to heart. Old grandpa. Hyuh, hyuh, hyuh.

  ARCHER: (Of phone) It’s the guy from Iran.

  CHARLES: Put his ass right on hold. (Pause. ARCHER starts to speak.) No. I will deal with him in due course. (Pause) I would like a cup of coffee. When Ms. Bernstein appears, disinfect her, as I do not wish to catch whatever cooties she’s contracted on the plane.… take a breath and listen to me. (Pause) Things. From now on. Will, in their running, more closely approximate a Swiss watch, and less and less call to mind A CLUSTER FUCK. I’m too old. I’m too tired. And, if “things” don’t, heads are going to roll. Arch. Heads are going to roll. And where they come to rest, I do not care.

  (A second line rings. ARCHER answers.)

  ARCHER: The Turkey and Poultry Association.

  CHARLES: To review, yes? How much is turkey a pound …?

  ARCHER: It’s a dollar ninety-eight.

  CHARLES: Two dollars. And so one hundred million people eating, each, one pound would be …?

  ARCHER: Two hundred million dollars.

  CHARLES: Now. Let the chucklehead waltz in here with his fifty grand. Show him in.

  ARCHER: Iran’s still holding.

  CHARLES: Arch. Theodore Roosevelt sat in this chair. Do you know what his policy was?

  ARCHER: No, Chuck.

  CHARLES: In a word. His policy was “How about that?” Show the turkey people in. Gimme his card.

  (The TURKEY GUY comes in. ARCHER hands CHARLES a card. CHARLES reads it.)

  TURKEY GUY: Mister P…

  CHARLES: Siddown. (Re card) You still, what is this … cultivating fighting fish?

  TURKEY GUY: Yes, Sir, I…

  CHARLES: And how is “Betty?”—Now, we’ve got that out of the way … (Puts card away.)

  (The phone rings. ARCHER answers.)

  ARCHER: (To phone) Yes …?

  TURKEY GUY: Mister …

  ARCHER: (Of phone) It’s that fellow we were speaking of.

  CHARLES: (To TURKEY GUY) Siddown …

  TURKEY GUY: Sir. I cannot express our great sense of …

  CHARLES: Get to it.

  TURKEY GUY: Honor, and …

  ARCHER: We’re rather busy.

  TURKEY GUY: Yes. Of course, Sir. In the past …

  CHARLES: Fuck the past. We’re going to start anew. Don’t you think?

  TURKEY GUY: Absss …

  (The phone rings. ARCHER answers.)

  ARCHER: It’s the fellow from Iran. He’s denying the rumor that he has launched missiles.

  CHARLES: Who told anyone he had launched missiles?

  ARCHER: You told your wife.

  CHARLES: Christ that woman is a gossip … (Pause) Tell him it’s cool, big mistake, and I’ll take care of it. (To TURKEY GUY) Now: my friend. I would like to bring your attention to some simple facts.

  TURKEY GUY: Of course, Sir.

  CHARLES: You ready?

  TURKEY GUY: Yes. Sir. I am.

  CHARLES: There are: How many people in this country? (To ARCHER)

  ARCHER: Three hundred million, several odd hundred th …

  CHARLES: Say three hundred million. On Thanksgiving.

  TURKEY GUY: Yes, Sir.

  CHARLES: How many, would you say, “eat turkey”?

  TURKEY GUY: All of them …?

  CHARLES: That would be yummy, but, let’s say, purpose of argument, one hundred million. Zat sound? Fair to all concerned?

  TURKEY GUY: Yes, Sir.

  CHARLES: How much is turkey a pound?

  TURKEY GUY: I…

  CHARLES: This morning. At the opening bell. Turkey at the supermarket. “Turkey” could be had for …?

  TURKEY GUY: Well. Well, Sir, I. I don’t know, regional discrepancies …

  CHARLES: Don’t fuck with me.

  ARCHER: How much is turkey a pound?

  TURKEY GUY: “A” turkey …

  CHARLES: Do you know where Prondachzeck, Bulgaria is?

  TURKEY GUY: No, Sir.

  CHARLES: Nobody does. (Pause) Just five guys. Who work for me. (Pause) And the fellas who they take there … (Pause) And leave there.

  (The phone rings.)

  CHARLES: (To phone) What? (To TURKEY GUY) It’s for you …

  TURKEY GUY: Excuse me … (To CHARLES) Yes. Sir, there is a woman in the anteroom, who is sneezing.

  CHARLES: How much is turkey a pound?

  TURKEY GUY: And could you issue orders that she is to be kept away from the birds?

  CHARLES: How much is turkey a pound?

  TURKEY GUY: For the birds, Sir, have been raised in complete isolation, under strictest standards of organic veterinary care …

  CHARLES: Yeah, okay.

  TURKEY GUY: And a woman is sneezing in the outer office.

  CHARLES: (To phone) Who’s sneezing? Get her in here.

  (BERNSTEIN enters, wearing a large, colorful Chinese amulet around her neck. She sneezes.)

  BERNSTEIN: Mister President.

  CHARLES: Bernstein.

  (She sneezes again.)

  TURKEY GUY: Sir, when this person leaves, could you ask her to exit by, a route which will not place her again in proximity to my turkeys?

  CHARLES: What is it you want, pal?

  TURKEY GUY: Mister President?

  CHARLES: Quid pro quo. Quid pro quo. What do you want?

  TURKEY GUY: For you to pardon …

  CHARLES: Good! You know, many fine folks, grew up comfortable, went to college, nothing wrong with that, I however, was raised in a migrant camp. And one thing that I learned. Is Life? Life is one thing.

  ARCHER: Give and take.

  CHARLES: Give and fucken take.

  TURKEY GUY: Mist …

  CHARLES: Give and take. Way the thing lays out? You want something. I got what you want? You give, and I take. Or else you wouldn’t be here. (Re TURKEY GUY) Bernstein?

  BERNSTEIN: Sir?

  CHARLES: What do these guys want?

  BERNSTEIN: Sir?

  CHARLES: Are you sitting down? They want me TO PARDON A TURKEY.

  TURKEY GUY: Two turkeys.

  BERNSTEIN: Sir, you weren’t raised in a migrant camp. You grew up in Shaker Heights.

  CHARLES: … And you think that was a picnic? (The phone rings. ARCHER answers it.) What?

  ARCHER: It’s the Israeli ambassador. “The future of the State of Israel …”

  CHARLES: (Takes phone) What? Iran has not launched … I… Iran has not … (To ARCHER) Get my wife on the phone. (To phone) Iran has … Look: you people, got along without a country for two thousand years. You’re gonna be fine. All right?

  (Pause.)

  BERNSTEIN: Sir, my baby …

  CHARLES: (To TURKEY GUY) This office has not raised its fee for twenty years. One turkey, fifty grand, but, but, you want me now to cut my price in half. And pardon not one, but two … and here’s one for you: IS IT A CRIME?

  TURKEY GUY: Mist …

  CHARLES: Being a turkey? Is it a crime?

  TURKEY GUY: Sir, the country understands the gesture as one of, of, of, of “whimsy.”

  CHARLES: But they, I believe, have overlooked the underlying logic of the case.

  (The phone rings.)

  ARCHER: (To
phone) Yes? (To CHARLES) Chuck … It’s your wife.

  CHARLES: (To phone) Can you keep your trap shut about things that I tell you in confidence. (He hangs up.) I pardon your turkeys, what does that imply? That the birds I haven’t pardoned, the turkeys each American actually eats, on Thanksgiving, are criminals?

  TURKEY GUY: I…

  CHARLES: And you know what, perhaps I do not have the power to pardon turkeys.

  TURKEY GUY: Sir, Presidents since World War Two have pardoned turkeys.

  CHARLES: At what cost.

  TURKEY GUY: (Pause) Sir …

  ARCHER: What did you give ’em?

  TURKEY GUY: Sir, if you would like us to consider raising our organization’s stipend, to your, your …

  CHARLES: Oh good. Now we’re getting somewhere. Archer?

  ARCHER: Sir?

  CHARLES: Do I have the power to pardon turkeys? Ask me.

  ARCHER: Mister President? Can you pardon turkeys?

  CHARLES: Not for one hundred thousand dollars.

  TURKEY GUY: One hundred?

  CHARLES: Fifty grand a bird.

  TURKEY GUY: All right.

  CHARLES: No, I said not for one hundred thousand dollars. That’s the old price.

  TURKEY GUY: Fifty grand was the old price.

  CHARLES: Times one turkey. Times two that would be a hundred—That’s the old price. Do I hear an increase on the old price?

  TURKEY GUY: One hundred fifty thousand.

  CHARLES: I don’t think so.

  TURKEY GUY: One eighty-five.

  CHARLES: In cash.

  TURKEY GUY: Yes, Sir …

  (The phone rings. TURKEY GUY extends his hand. CHARLES checks his info card.)

  CHARLES: (To TURKEY GUY) Give my best to Betty …

  (ARCHER answers, listens.)

  ARCHER: (Pause) Hold the phone.

  CHARLES: Yes.

  ARCHER: The price of turkey was quoted at two dollars a pound.

  CHARLES: Yes …?

  ARCHER: That’s “on the bird.”

  CHARLES: What else could it be?

  ARCHER: Pre-sliced.

  CHARLES: What is it pre-sliced?!

  ARCHER: Between seven and eleven dollars.

  CHARLES: (To exiting TURKEY GUY) Stop right there.

  TURKEY GUY: Sir?

  CHARLES: Let’s start again. Seven dollars a pound times three hundred million people does not equal, one hundred eighty-five grand.

  TURKEY GUY: What does it equal?

  CHARLES: You tell me.

  TURKEY GUY: You want me to bid against myself?

  CHARLES: How dare you use such language in this sacred office.

  TURKEY GUY: I beg your pardon. Tell me what you require.