IIi: Thursday morning in a rather barren room at the GVPD precinct. Sheriff Slucha sits at the front of the conference setting with Detective Bream at his left, pointing out some detail on a chart they have between them. Deputy Porter sits at his right, staring straight ahead, fidgeting with his mug. Officer Racine is directly in front of him in the first row of chairs, essentially doing the same. Officers Marrot and van Erdal enter the room boisterously, followed by Officer Simmons who seems not in on their banter. They all find their seats in the second row.
PORTER: Alright, all’s here who needs to be—let’s get this briefing underway.
MARROT: Wait, just this few? What about—
BREAM: (clearing her throat) A word about role-calls: we know who’s here and who could be, but let’s not get out of order with subjective suggestions.
MARROT: Due respect, Detective, we are objectively few
BREAM: And could be one fewer—
SLUCHA: (clearing his throat) Phil’s right—we’re all here, and with scant time to get prickly. Gus, you’ll give more than ‘due respect’ for these days, I’ll trust…
MARROT: Yes, sir. Completely.
SLUCHA: Someone shut the door please—thanks, Sharon. We’ve got the lock-down to plan as our main agenda, but I gotta say, it’s disconcerting that last night’s call came up empty…
VAN ERDAL: Last night, sir?
BREAM: Not everyone’s aware, Bo.
PORTER: And on my watch, so—with permission, sir?
SLUCHA: Go for it.
PORTER: The high school, which is why we’d scheduled this meeting weeks ago, was apparently visited last night by, well, we don’t know, but also no one who was invited by the school board that had been meeting, unannounced, in the library—
BREAM: They called us, let’s see, at 9:37—Sharon, you took it.
SIMMONS: Yes, they were a bit spooked.
MARROT: They?
SIMMONS: Dr Bourban is the superintendent—it’s his domain—and Lillian Farmsworth was chairing the meeting. Five others, I think.
PORTER: Not four?
SIMMONS: Others? Eight overall? No, seven—we entered as they were wrapping up, anyway.
VAN ERDAL: And what was the 10-83?
PORTER: Nothing elevated to that level—we didn’t ascertain a disturbance, per se—
BREAM: You reported their sense of an intrusion…
PORTER: Affirmative, as in the record. We searched and determined no threat.
MARROT: Camera surveillance?
SLUCHA: is sub-par, and that leads us to where we meant to be today.
VAN ERDAL: Wait, I’m confused. You studied all the camera data at the school that evening?
PORTER: No, not all. But enough to know that their system is, as the sheriff attests, sub-par. We can’t gain much from static, non-strategic, isolated zones. The school board members were skittish—sensed the noises were coming from the ceiling of the corridor outside the library area itself, so ear-witness was sketchy at best.
MARROT: But they thought someone was in?
SIMMONS: They did.
MARROT: And you… also had to believe someone was in?
SIMMONS: What do you want us to say, Gus, that we didn’t catch what we didn’t see or hear?
SLUCHA: It’s enough, and filed appropriately. We’ve actually benefitted from knowledge of the school’s inept security cameras, so the timing couldn’t have been better. We’ll have to rig up our own for Monday’s simulation.
VAN ERDAL: Apparatus which will not stay permanent to the site after Monday?
SLUCHA: What are you suggesting, Claude? The school keep the few cameras we have?
VAN ERDAL: I’m not saying that, but it seems erroneous to take out what we can provide, especially when they’ve called us in on exactly that need.
SLUCHA: Fair enough. We’re scheduled for Monday at the high school. To a far lesser degree, we’re scheduled next month at the nursing home—less cameras there to begin with, less 10-83s, you’d agree?
VAN ERDAL: Of course I’d agree. I just thought the point germane.
BREAM: It is. We’re acting—in two senses of the term—with what we’ve got. So let’s get to the original agenda. Monday morning—Presidents’ Day, of course—we show up to work naïve to the call we’ll get at around 10am.
MARROT: Should it be so specific?
BREAM: I said ‘about’—
MARROT: Yeah, but it could be 5am just as likely—
BREAM: 5am for a terrorist raid on civilians?
MARROT: Theoretically, why not?
SLUCHA: Reign it in, Gus. We got your point, I think, that you wanna be purist in the sense that anything can happen. And so it can. This is more than a required fire drill or, to our more direct consideration, a lock-down the students and their teachers have only begun to practice in these post-9/11 years.
MARROT: Respectfully, sir, would you include post-Columbine, which technically occurred earlier?
SLUCHA: Of course, as you well know. And, as you well know, such incidents tend to happen into the actual school day—
MARROT: Beslan began beforehand…
PORTER: I call rank, Officer Marrot, in the interest of what we need to prepare for this Monday, here—not anywhere else. Even if…
BREAM: And that’s where we need to springboard. We will start from station at roughly 10am on a call that will come in from a hidden button under one of three designated positions at the school.
VAN ERDAL: What positions are those?
BREAM: Immaterial, really, but we have non-telephone connections from the receptionist desk, the principal’s office, and a more mobile capacity from a counselor named Dostune—
VAN ERDAL: ‘more mobile’?
BREAM: It’s enough for you to know, ok? Fact is, we don’t need to know who presses this extraordinary button, but that it’s pressed. Lock-down ensues. Kids have been through this drill once or twice since September, at least in their nonchalant ways. Reminder, though: kids won’t be there on Monday, so we’d have to assume that a) they’d be there and b) they’d be somewhere between nonchalant and not.
SLUCHA: There’ll be actors in the stead of students, on the scale of some 20 or 30…
MARROT: That’s not nearly enough.
SLUCHA: That’s what the actors’ guild could provide on the terms of this contract.
VAN ERDAL: We’ll just have to imagine more.
SLUCHA: That’s the spirit! And, moreover, you’ll never be sure what the actors’ guild will supply in combatants.
RACINE: Wait, what? We won’t know which actors are playing which roles?
PORTER: Well, think about it for a second, Tim. How would anybody know who the good guys and bad guys are on a hair-trigger response? In fact, the point of the exercise is to put everything off-kilter… Dr Bourban even suggested an attitude of ‘chaos theory’ to help us on our way—
SIMMONS: Do we really want to go there?
PORTER: Where?
SIMMONS: ‘Chaos theory’?
PORTER: Well, I don’t know, but—
BREAM: Listen, I’m on the analytical end, and that when the event’s usually done. But I see the dilemma here, pre-event: we gotta go in, 10am or whenever, not knowing what to expect; we also gotta go in prepared, knowing what our roles need to be, if necessarily fluid. It’s code red, for God’s sakes! Fake guns will be pointed at fake students’ heads, and you’ll need to fake-respond in a way that will become real in the minds of everyone present—
RACINE: and everyone absent.
BREAM: Indeed. We must assume the higher order of what we’re doing in this simulation: namely, preparing ourselves beyond ourselves, in order to prepare the civilian core, starting with the school personnel. We face the false terrorists’ fire and destroy that threat by Monday afternoon, then…
VAN ERDAL: we call it a day!
MARROT: we call it a fuckin’ day!
SLUCHA: No, we analyze accordingly and support what inevitably follows.
PORTER: Aftershocks?
SIMMONS: Ghosts in the machine we never figured out, partner.
PORTER: huh?
RACINE: I think she’s referring to—
SLUCHA: we don’t have time. Here’s the map of the school. Sharon, I want you and, ok, Tim to understand these upper floor challenges; Claude and Gus, you study the front façade, parking lot to what they call the ‘commons’; Soledad and Phil, put the finishing touches on our plan. We have a half-dozen actors playing SWAT—
BREAM: I’m in contact with actual SWAT, from Hennepin—
SLUCHA: good—rubber bullets, I assume; and on that note I’ve communicated with the fire department and ambulance regiment what they’d deem appropriate as things unfold…
VAN ERDAL: Them knowing it’s all for naught?
SLUCHA: Don’t you dare say that—nothing’s for naught.
VAN ERDAL: Apologies, Chief. But are we going to rehearse this thing?
SLUCHA: Claude, the rehearsal is when it happens for real, and that’s just gotta be the final word. Unless anyone else needs to weigh in?
MARROT: There’s a high school basketball game tonight.
PORTER: So?
MARROT: I think as many of us who can show, even plain-clothes, may make us more ready.
SIMMONS: I’m on duty—may seem strange.
RACINE: I’m not, technically, but by Monday…
VAN ERDAL: For fuck sakes, it’s a night out cheering on the Griz!
BREAM: I’ll underscore the plain-clothes element to all of this…
SLUCHA: And I’ll vouch for your preferred R & R when this all blows over…
PORTER: Meeting adjourned?
BREAM: Except for the details (handing out stapled copies) of the campus, apparatus, protocols we all updated as recently as August,
SLUCHA: Review them, please.
BREAM: and an altered rotation for Monday. Even before then, get good rest.
SLUCHA: On that note, thanks, Sharon and Phil, for coming in on a morning off.
PORTER: Had to file that 10-83 anyway,..
SIMMONS: illusion that it was.
IIii: that evening at the school gym. The bleachers are full and the Golden Valley pep band, in gold and black, is playing at one side, while a lesser Eden Prairie drum corps, in red and black, plays on the other. The announcer calls for attention and recognition of the starters and coaches for each team, even as some spectators are still finding open seats.
TATE: Coach! Fancy seeing you here.
SERENTINO: At a home game?
TATE: Girls’ game.
KING: Gavin, that sounds sexist.
SERENTINO: ’Atta girl. Keep him in line!
TATE: What I meant was, you always seemed exhausted with us after practices, scouting other teams and such—didn’t think you’d have the time to take in a game for pleasure.
SERENTINO: As if your cadre of gunslingers gave me pleasure? More likely an aneurysm! Anyway, my niece is now playing Varsity, at least she’s suited up.
KING: Which one is she?
SERENTINO: Last on the bench. Littlest.
KING: Bet she can steal.
SERENTINO: oh, yeah—and dribble and shoot. But she’s a freshman and, well, let’s hope for a blow-out one way or another so she can get some playing time.
TATE: “one way or another”? That’s treachery! Grizzlies come first—you taught me that!
SERENTINO: In this life, Gavin, you gotta keep an open debate. I’m an uncle first tonight, but even as a coach I’d think objectively: fate may have it that twenty points in favor of the good guys will put her in; twenty points the other way, late enough to make a difference, I’d play my bench. She’s a fair future for this school. May even challenge your game-high record someday, Beth.
KING: I’ll root for her. I certainly had elders to shoot for.
TATE: Tip-off tip: my money’s on black.
KING: Our trim versus theirs? Let’s see…
SERENTINO: I just want a good, safe game.
More or less, it is. The lead changes eight times in the first half, neither team hitting their threes or dominating in the paint. Conservative set plays are working, to the general satisfaction of the crowd. At intermission, cheerleaders from each school do more advanced routines than earlier time-outs had allowed; announcements fill the transitions, including a Presidents’ Day program at the Sister Kenny Courage Center for rehabilitation services, “charitable donations welcome at the snack shack tonight.” Then, to some confusion, the announcer gives over the microphone to an older man dressed as Uncle Sam.
BARNADINE: Yes, folks, I’m here in patriotic garb to give a tangible boost to the Courage Center—God knows the good work those folks do. My assistant and I tonight, on their behalf, are here to entertain you, Globetrotters’ style, so dig out your pocket change and give a Golden Valley whoop to Aunt Samantha, my lovely better half! Woo-hoo! There you go, now, Miss Samantha: with that reception you gotta reflect on our success. Aint it true we never, ever, lost a game o’ two-on-two.
ONAIWAH: (taking the mic) I never lost a game of one-on-one, if you wanna get technical! Don’t you remember when I whipped your behind just the other—
BARNADINE: (snatching back the mic) I’m only on your side, honeybuns, but I wonder if we have two brave souls out there to take us on—we’re undefeated, if we hadn’t made that clear. C’mon you couch spuds—it’s all for a good cause! And maybe you’ll be the first to do what no Washington General duo has done for thirty years—
ONAIWAH: (swiping the mic) that’s twenty to you, mister!
BARNADINE: (accepting the mic back) adjusted to woe-be-gone time (whispering into the mic)—that’s good for us, smooches, they’re lost in the math— (back to full voice) Ball boy, give us one of those orange things. Aint there any from the ABA? No, well shame on you. Does it bounce ok?
ONAIWAH: (heading to the home basket) It’ll do.
BARNADINE: Now, who’s gonna take us on?
SERENTINO: Sounds like it’s tailor-made for you two!
TATE: Sounds like clap-trap to me.
KING: C’mon, Ace, are you suddenly scared?
BARNADINE: (pointing to the crowd) There’s the back-and-forth we’ve seen a thousand times. Come on down, you false-debaters! Challenge the red-white-and-blue in front of you. Be the first to think you’ve beaten us already—and the last to leave us unbeaten, if ya know what I mean! That’s right, Golden Valley, let’s hear it for these gladiators comin’ down the aisle!
TATE: (whispering) I will get you for this, shooting queen.
KING: (more audibly) We’re on the same team, sexist!
BARNADINE: Ok, let’s give it up for—wha’ d’we call ya, Curly Neal?
KING: I’m Beth.
BARNADINE: The star of Bethlehem! Christmas never comes too late! And you?
TATE: Gavin Tate.
BARNADINE: Nothin’ there, mate. You got a pretty girl, though.
TATE: Be careful, clowny.
BARNADINE: Trash-talkin’ Tate—love it! Now, you two know how to play this game?
KING: Ask the crowd.
BARNADINE: (nodding to the noise) Evidently not. Good for us, right, Sammy?
ONAIWAH: (below the basket, missing lay-ups) Shut up and let somebody concentrate!
BARNADINE: Reminder, folks, all wagers go to charity (taking off his hat and leaving it beside the mic at the mid-court stripe) Hurry, Sammy, the young guns ’re comin’! Pass ’er here!
ONAIWAH: (missing another lay-up while KING and TATE jog up) Oh, for heaven sakes! (then passing long to BARNADINE, who dribbles to the away basket and makes an easy lay-up)
TATE: What?
BARNADINE: Wrong basket! Embarrassing!
TATE: Whatever, so we’re going this way (snatching the ball and dribbling the other way, passing to KING at the arc, who swishes her shot to the crowd’s greater roar). You counting by ones or twos? What d’you give that three?
BARNADINE: Um. Time out. Sammy? And bring us th’ ball.
ONAIWAH: Simple question, ain’it?
BARNADINE: Time in! (dribbling wildly away and launching his own three-pointer, which misses by a little) Call it a two.
KING: (grabbing the rebound and racing the other way) Ally-oop, then, for 5-2! (lofting for TATE, who executes a crowd-thrilling dunk)
BARNADINE: Yeah, but…
ONAIWAH: Oh, they’re just young folks, Papa; here, may’s’well try’n tie it up for ’em (dribbling slowly with no defense to the other end) What we playin’ up to anyway, Sam?
BARNADINE: Seven! and our winning streak is on the line!
ONAIWAH: Oh, in that case (turning around and throwing it back to BARNADINE, unguarded at the home side of the court), put ’er away, Dr J!
BARNADINE: (catching and dribbling quickly away from TATE’s sudden awareness) Holy smoly! (barely making a fingertip roll off the backboard) There! and finally in the right basket…
TATE: Say what?
BARNADINE: 7-2, General. Better luck next time!
ONAIWAH: (grabbing the hat at mid-court, with the mic) Let’s give gen’rously to these pretty good losers, yeah? Good-looking, too!
KING: (coming over and giving ONAIWAH a hug, then taking the mic) Don’t know what just happened, folks, but sure is good to be back on this floor! Go Grizzlies!
URSKINE: (emerging from the bleachers) This is a frickin’ disgrace! Who th’ hell are you clowns?
SERENTINO: (yelling from a distance) Billy! Don’t step out there.
URSKINE: (apparently unhearing) You tryin’ to curse us or somethin’?
ONAIWAH: Don’t know what you mean, young’un but—
URSKINE: Making fools of the home team on our own court. Who the fuck you think you are? And then you want to collect ‘charity’ on this shit?
TATE: Bill, not worth it—
URSKINE: No, it is worth it—these rakes took the microphone and led us all on. This isn’t for fun, first of all, or for some charitable cause.
TATE: Cool it, c’mon, second half’s starting.
URSKINE: Not ’til they remember what cause. I do. Do you?
TATE: No, frankly, but I see coach coming down to kick your ass, so that’s the cause I’d be most worried about.
URSKINE: Name it, clown (snatching the hat), or you don’t get this back!
BARNADINE: You win, whippersnapper: the cause was just to entertain, as maybe we didn’t do so well with you.
URSKINE: That wasn’t the cause—you’re lying, still. I’ve seen you around town, drunk as a skunk—
BARNADINE: Hey, now—
URSKINE: Swindlin’ there, swindlin’ here.
SERENTINO: Billy, lay off!
URSKINE: (throwing the hat hard at BARNADINE’S face) God damn you!
BARNADINE stumbles back and slips over the microphone cord. ONAIWAH slumps to him while TATE rushes to restrain URSKINE from further response. Dozens from the crowd close in, several vociferously. URSKINE breaks away from TATE but then finds himself surrounded by peers both for and against his point-of-view. Tempers rise and a melee threatens. From the far side of the bleachers, SIMMONS, in uniform, calls into her shoulder piece and strides to where RACINE, in plain clothes, has already descended.
SIMMONS: Tim, it’s the teen-agers we’re isolating, yes?
RACINE: Roger that, and you’ve called cover? I don’t see anyone else?
SIMMONS: Yes, Phil also said he’d be around. For now… (to the teens) Break it up, now! Everyone move three steps back. Now!
URSKINE: Hey, go after those crooks before they get away!
RACINE: Quiet! You’ve been ordered to step back!
URSKINE: I was making a citizen’s arrest—how am I the bad guy?
SIMMONS: No talk of arrests yet—you need to step back and let us take charge of this.
URSKINE: ‘Us’? Who’s us?
SERENTINO: Dammit, Billy, shut your trap! There’s enough ‘us’ here for you not to question.
RACINE: There’s a group around the clowns I should attend to, if we’re good here—
SIMMONS: We are good here, yes?
SERENTINO: Billy?
URSKINE: Not really.
SIMMONS: Then we’ll call your parents to escort you home.
URSKINE: Not necessary. They’re up there.
SIMMONS: True?
SERENTINO: (looking up, sighing hard) Yeah, that’s them.
SIMMONS: You may join them directly—the rest of you, too, be warned that further outbursts may result in an arrest.
PORTER: (rushing in, confused) Is this part of the drill?
RACINE: (coming over to meet them) Adults are cool-headed. More amused than bemused, I think.
PORTER: Wha’s that mean?
SIMMONS: It means we can get on with the second half. You can inform the ref and coaches, Beth.
KING: Me?
SIMMONS: You got the authority. And you’ve got a knack for making this place happy.
IIiii: next morning, in AP English class, MS KRYZINSKI writes on the whiteboard and students dutifully write it out in their notes. She walks the rows to check work and whisper particular clarifications. Students, on the whole, concentrate silently.
KRYZINSKI: A volunteer to read out the quote, then someone else to interpret… Yes, Russel, go for it.
JONSRUD: A certain Peter Stockmann says, “You have an ingrained tendency to take your own way, at all events; and that is almost equally inadmissible in a well ordered community. The individual ought undoubtedly to acquiesce in subordinating himself to the community—or, to speak more accurately, to the authorities who have the care of the community’s welfare.” Henrik Ibsen, An Enemy of the People, 1882. Whew.
KRYZINSKI: Indeed, it’s a biggie. And the play we’ll be studying after the extended weekend. Someone to get us going on the quote?... Not everyone at once.... Not nobody at once! Ok, thanks Tracy.
QUAMME: Well, we don’t know the ‘you’ here, so that makes it kind of tough.
KRYZINSKI: Make a conjecture.
QUAMME: And we don’t know who the speaker is, really—I mean, Peter Stockmann can be anybody.… But I’m gathering he’s none too happy about potential rabble-rousers.
KRYZINSKI: Because?
QUAMME: Because the community’s interests outweigh the individual’s, and the “well ordered” seems threatened by “your own way”.
TILLINGER: Like “your own way” is wayward…
KRYZINSKI: How do you make that equation, Becky?
TILLINGER: From the title—a singular ‘enemy’ that ‘the people’ may have to root out.
JONSRUD: But maybe this Stockmann is the enemy—what about that?
KRYZINSKI: Or his younger brother, as it turns out. Peter Stockmann is the mayor of the town, and his brother, a physician, has discovered that the public baths—an important business for this town—are contaminated. Dr Stockmann is intent on publishing his findings.
QUAMME: And the mayor is trying to stop him. Typical.
JONSRUD: Like I said, he’s the enemy.
TILLINGER: But he says, ironically, that the authorities—the mayor’s office included—care about the community’s welfare. What better care than to keep them from a health hazard?
URSKINE: Or a scam dressed up like the 4th of July!
QUAMME: Jesus, didn’t you sleep that off? That was capital M-barrassing. Ah, I see it now: you’re the rabble-rouser! Good call, Miss K!
TILLINGER: Yeah, coming out of the locker room was kinda surreal—what could have been so upsetting?
KRYZINSKI: Let’s not get into that—I had Ibsen’s play on my planner since the beginning of the year. We shouldn’t presume anything at our school would—
URSKINE: Why not? I mean, isn’t this class supposed to make thematic connections? And what do you mean, Tracy, calling me the rabble-rouser? You had to recognize what they were doing, more than making fools of us—well, you anyway—
JONSRUD: Hey, man, chill. It was unplanned entertainment—we finally had a half-time show worth paying attention to.
URSKINE: You didn’t pay close enough attention! Those fools planned it, and you fools supported their scam. Applauded it.
QUAMME: It’s pocket change, dude. And homeless people.
URSKINE: Good luck with ponzi schemes down the road.
KRYZINSKI: Well, as much we should stay civil, Mr Urskine brings up another quote I was going to leave to next week, but might as well add it to your notes. Ready? It’s from a character named Billing, who’s an editor for the local newspaper: “A community is like a ship; every one ought to be prepared to take the helm.”
TILLINGER: There’s that word ‘ought’ again—what, is Ibsen some sort of moralist?
KRYZINSKI: That, my dear—my dears—is a crucial question. Everyone has copied it down?
URSKINE: Mindlessly.
KRYZINSKI: (pursing her lips and placing stacks of the books at the front of each row) Well, more than mindlessly read the introduction to get some context of Ibsen’s world. (DOSTUNE enters and stands to the side) You don’t have to start the play itself until after Presidents Day.
JONSRUD: (muffled) Yay!
QUAMME: More time to kick homeless people.
URSKINE: or your ass.
DOSTUNE: (clearing his throat, catching KRYZINSKI’s eye, then sliding over to URSKINE’s desk to whisper) Not the best timing, Billy. I already needed to talk with you and wish I hadn’t heard that. Follow me, please, to my office.
URSKINE: May I bring my Enemy of the People? I hear it’s good prison reading.
DOSTUNE: (still whispering) I’d rather keep you in a basketball jersey than in prison, so to speak.
QUAMME: Call me, Billy—even if it’s your one-and-only allowed.
KRYZINSKI: Tracy, that’ll do.
IIiv: same day, at the GVPD precinct. PORTER, SIMMONS and SLUCHA speak around a table in one corner, while RACINE and VAN ERDAL sit at another at the opposite end, evidently on a coffee break.
SLUCHA: As much as you handled it according to protocol, I don’t like the timing of this…
PORTER: It’s apples an’ oranges, chief, no one who was there would make any connection.
SLUCHA: But they might in a few days.
SIMMONS: They will. Two nights in a row requiring our response? That’s unprecedented. And then a major thing that we’re not going to make public?
SLUCHA: We’re working on that, Sharon, you know how tricky this all is.
SIMMONS: Without a doubt. I’m just saying last night didn’t help the cause.
PORTER: C’mon, maybe it did in disguise—kind of, whad’ya call it, ‘reverse physology’
SLUCHA: ‘psychology’? Care to expand?
PORTER: Isn’t it phys—physio… like physical exercises? Psychology… ok, yeah I guess that’s what I meant. I guess if people see us doin’ our jobs and some of ’em might have even recognized Tim being off-duty… (calling across the room). Say, Tim, did anybody make it known last night you were a cop?
RACINE: Wasn’t it obvious?
PORTER: I mean, did they think you were at the game undercover?
RACINE: Was I? I was just following Claude’s rah-rah about supporting the Griz (turning to VAN ERDAL, sipping his coffee), which you should look into one of these days, Claude.
VAN ERDAL: (sputtering to finish the swallow and respond) May-m-ayb-e (coughs more fully), maybe I was there!
SIMMONS: Just like the ghost the night before…
SLUCHA: Officers, let’s reel this in. Soledad is dead-set in keeping objective information pure from speculative, even if in jest.
SIMMONS: She wasn’t there, though, either night, so she’ll need us to discern what’s objective or speculative.
SLUCHA: True, you’ll be central to that, both of you.
PORTER: I still think it’s apples an’ oranges. When we questioned the clowns—
SLUCHA: Let’s call them by their names, please,
PORTER: The suspects—
SIMMONS: Are they? We barely could hold them for petty fraud—they collected a grand total of, what, twenty-seven bucks? Which was donated with their blessing to Sister Kenny—
PORTER: Didn’t matter. They invaded a public event under false pretenses.
SLUCHA: You read their Miranda rights, yes?
PORTER: Of course!
SLUCHA: In the crowd’s viewing, or where?
PORTER: We had to usher them to the side to see if they were just clownin’ about the clowning, like a practical joke, so it wasn’t an immediate arrest…
SIMMONS: For the record, I don’t believe we had to bring them in… They weren’t a threat any more than that kid—
PORTER: Sharon, we had to have them questioned.
SLUCHA: This gets us back to the bad timing. An arrest not made on a possible break-and-enter, an arrest made on a possible practical joke, a thing on the horizon that we know is a simulation but must treat as real… The PR on this is going to look messy.
enter BREAM with a folder in hand
VAN ERDAL: (mumbling) At least the messenger looks good.
BREAM: I’ve finished with them, Phil, if you’d do the release.
SLUCHA: Actually, before that, Soledad, could you bring them here for a little off-the-record—I’d rather not do so in my office.
BREAM: (exiting with PORTER) As you wish.
SIMMONS: If I may, sir, what ‘off the record’ direction do you want to go? Wednesday’s 10-83? Because I think that would complicate Soley’s re-
SLUCHA: No, not further questioning, but thank you for that safeguard. No, I don’t mean to meddle where I shouldn’t or tap into these civilians as resources or anything like that. I would have liked to be there last night—
RACINE: So would Claude, cheering on the Griz!
SLUCHA: Are you guys still on break?
RACINE: Right-o, apologies.
SLUCHA: At ease, but I would have liked to see the school as it is nowadays, before we’ll see it Monday.
SIMMONS: And these two are going to give you insight?
SLUCHA: Well, I’d at least like to see.
enter BREAM, PORTER, BARNADINE and ONAIWAH, the latter two in last night’s costumes, now with coats in hand.
VAN ERDAL: Well, I’ll be damned! Tim, you never described them as them!
RACINE: Get off the couch then, and see more of the world.
BARNADINE: I thought you said we was free?
SLUCHA: (glancing at the file) Indeed, Mr Barnadine and.. Ms..Ona..w..
ONAIWAH: Onaiwah! Can’t speak Ojibwe?
SLUCHA: Pardon me, Ms Onaiwah!
BARNADINE: Warden wants the pardon! That’s rich!
SLUCHA: I wanted only to wish you well on your release. I understand this isn’t your first time on record here but also that you’ve never been formally charged for a crime.
ONAIWAH: Wha’z your point? You releasin’ us or not.
SLUCHA: You are free to go and we have no interest in qualifying that, but hope you can also be free from any future arrest.
BARNADINE: On what? What didja even bring us in for this time?
SLUCHA: Detective Bream has defined that, as we have on record—it’s not my intention to go over anything again. But to wish you can find the best ways to interact with our city…
BARNADINE: That’s what we were tryin’ to do. Got a few laughs, gotta admit.
SLUCHA: I wasn’t there.
BARNADINE: But these folks were. ’Cept for that’un. He’s Officer Unfriendly.
VAN ERDAL: I serve this city with valor, mister.
BARNADINE: Good on ya, so I’m glad you’re on the record, so to speak.
SLUCHA: Well, we’re not here to discuss anything further. You’re free to go.
ONAIWAH: Free to go to basketball games?
SLUCHA: That I would steer clear of for a while.
BARNADINE: Why, pray-tell?
SLUCHA: Your right to do so might clash with the crowd.
BARNADINE: Could say that ’bout anybody. That kid, f’r instance.
ONAIWAH: Or that pig—
VAN ERDAL: Watch your mouth.
RACINE: (softly) Cool it, Claude.
BREAM: I think everyone has had enough. With permission, sir?
SLUCHA: Yes, fully, Detective. That will be all.
BARNADINE: The king’s pleasure has been had.
PORTER: It’s not really been a pleasure.
SLUCHA: (leaving for his office) Everyone back to work, please.
ONAIWAH: C’mon, Cole, we don’ wanna be late!
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