Sweat Read online

  JESSIE: Officially? Over an hour ago.

  STAN: Jesus. Is something going on that I should know?

  JESSIE: Dunno. Cynthia. The promotion. Whatever. Tracey pretends like it ain’t a big deal. But, I can tell she don’t like taking orders from Cynthia. And don’t spread this, but things haven’t been so good between them.

  STAN: That’s the way people are in this town. Bitch and moan, want something better. But, then the minute someone does well, forget it.

  JESSIE: Tell me about it. Tracey’s been going around town whispering that the only reason Cynthia got the job is cuz she’s black. Two months ago she couldn’t give a shit, and suddenly—

  STAN: C’mon. Bullshit. Cynthia earned that promotion.

  JESSIE: Sure, but I know for a fact that it pissed off a lot of people.

  STAN: Gimme a break. People don’t like change. I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it—

  JESSIE: You’re right, fuck ’em all, I’m sick of being in the middle. Let’s cut the cake.

  STAN: You sure?

  JESSIE: Yeah!

  STAN: Hey, Oscar.

  OSCAR: Yeah?

  STAN: Will you get me a knife?

  (Oscar retrieves a knife from the bar.)

  You got any special birthday wishes?

  JESSIE: Hell yeah. But, you know what would be nice, a kiss. I just wanna be kissed today.

  (Jessie blows out the candles.)

  STAN: Happy birthday, sweetheart.

  OSCAR: Happy birthday.

  JESSIE: Thank you.

  (Jessie cuts the cake. Cynthia rushes in, winded.)

  CYNTHIA: I’m so sorry, babe.

  JESSIE: Here comes the boss!

  CYNTHIA: What a headache, I got stuck at a meeting.

  JESSIE: Everything okay?

  CYNTHIA: Don’t worry about it. Today is your day. Here. Happy birthday.

  (Cynthia passes Jessie a Cher CD.)

  (Singing:)

  Do you believe in life after love?

  (Cynthia hugs Jessie. They both sing:)

  CYNTHIA AND JESSIE:

  I can feel something inside me say

  I really don’t think you’re strong enough.

  JESSIE: I almost forgive you.

  CYNTHIA: There’s no way I’d miss this, but I couldn’t get out of there. I was trapped in a room of “supervisors,” all of ’em had passionate ideas about how the floor could be run more efficiently, yet none of those donkeys have actually operated a machine.

  JESSIE: No shit.

  CYNTHIA: There’s this one idiot who seriously thinks that the plant can be run by five and a half people.

  JESSIE: Ha! Where are you going to find half a person?

  STAN: Whiskey?

  CYNTHIA: Double, babe.

  STAN (Sarcastically): Jeez, how’s the new job?

  CYNTHIA: Exhausting.

  JESSIE: As long as they fix the air-conditioning this summer, I’m happy.

  CYNTHIA: It’s number sixteen on my very long list, babe, don’t hold your breath.

  STAN: Look at you. You got a list?

  CYNTHIA: I also got a desk, whoa, and a computer.

  STAN: What?!

  JESSIE: I seen it, she ain’t lying.

  STAN: I mean shit, all of them years on the floor. That must taste sweet.

  CYNTHIA: Sweet don’t even begin to describe it, babe. First day, I park. Get out, and immediately head for the floor, it’s a reflex. I just do it, get to the door, same as usual, I smell the oil and metal dust, I hear the machinery churning and feel the energy of the room. I go to my station, say, “Hey Lance, Becky,” get ready, my body knows it’s there to pack tubes. That’s what I do.

  STAN: // That’s what you do.

  CYNTHIA: I fire up the machine, but everyone is looking at me, and Tracey says, “What the fuck you doing here?” Then I remember. I can go sit down.

  JESSIE: // Yes, you can

  CYNTHIA: I’m not wearing my Carhartt, not gonna be on my feet for ten hours, I loosen my support belt, I don’t have to worry about my fingers cramping or the blood blister on my left foot. I can stop sweating because goddamn the office has air-conditioning. These muthafuckers got air-conditioning.

  JESSIE: Of course they do.

  CYNTHIA: Twenty-four years, and I can’t remember talking to anyone in the office, except to do paperwork. I mean some of these folks have been working there as long as us, but they’re as unfamiliar as a stranger sitting next to you on a bus.

  JESSIE: That’s for sure.

  STAN: Yeah—

  CYNTHIA: It’s like looking at a map, and discovering that you’re only just a few miles away from the ocean. But you didn’t know because it was on the other side of the damn mountains.

  JESSIE: I’m so proud of you. You got off the fucking floor.

  (Chris and Jason sweep in with energy and hug Jessie. Suddenly it’s a party.)

  CHRIS: WHASSUP?!

  JASON: We miss the party?!

  JESSIE: Nah. You’re just in time, we’re cutting the cake.

  JASON: Looks good.

  (Jason swipes frosting with his fingers.)

  STAN: Hey, get outta there.

  JASON: Happy birthday!

  CHRIS (Singing): “Happy

  birthday to ya!”

  JESSIE: Thank you!

  CYNTHIA: Where you guys

  coming from?

  CHRIS: Just took a spin on Jason’s new bike.

  STAN: No!

  JASON: Yes!

  STAN: Congratulations!

  CYNTHIA: I hope you were

  wearing a helmet.

  CHRIS (To Stan): Whatcha got on tap?

  STAN: You need to ask?

  CHRIS: Keep hope alive. That’s all I’m saying.

  JASON: Dude.

  (Jason scans the room.)

  Where’s Ma?

  JESSIE: I dunno, you tell me.

  JASON: Don’t worry. She’ll be here. You know her.

  JESSIE: Yeah.

  CHRIS (To Cynthia): You look

  all important.

  CYNTHIA: Gotta dress the part.

  (Chris gives Cynthia a hug.)

  JESSIE: Betcha proud of your ma?

  CHRIS: She’s aight.

  (Cynthia gives Chris a playful jab.)

  JESSIE (To Cynthia): Hey Cynth, you remember the first day we met? You were sporting an afro and platforms and I thought there’s no way you were gonna make a day on the line.

  CYNTHIA: And you looked like fucking Joni Mitchell with a headband and hair down to your butt.

  JESSIE: Guess how old I was when I started, Stan?

  STAN: Nineteen—

  JESSIE: Eighteen. Eighteen! Can you believe it? The summer I started, I was a couple years younger than you guys!

  JASON: Betcha were hot.

  JESSIE: You know, I was.

  STAN: She was.

  JESSIE: God, that was a summer, huh? A lot of fun. Wasn’t thinking about anything, I figured I’d be at Olstead’s for six to eight months max. Can you believe it? I was collecting Green Stamps the whole year, remember Green Stamps? I was gonna trade ’em in for a backpack, a tent. Had like ten thousand of ’em. I was going to hitch my way across the country with my boyfriend, Felix.

  CYNTHIA: Felix. I remember Felix, he was a musician, right?

  JESSIE: He had a harmonica. And we planned to wind up in Alaska where my dad worked in a cannery. Kodiak.

  STAN: I knew your dad, Phil Lombardi, he looked liked, um—

  JESSIE: James Garner.

  STAN: Yeah. That’s right.

  JESSIE: He split for Alaska when I was thirteen. A lotta folks went up there that summer. Remember?

  STAN: Sure.

  JESSIE: God. Me. Felix. That was so long ago. We were gonna do Alaska, camp, live clean, you know, and save enough money to get to India. Live in an ashram for a while, then bum along the hippie trail. Istanbul, Tehran, Kandahar, Kabul, Peshawar, Lahore, Kathmandu. Places. Still remember ’em all. I used to say
’em every night like a mantra, a prayer: Istanbul, Tehran, Kandahar, Kabul, Peshawar, Lahore, Kathmandu. I mapped the whole thing out. Yeah, we had this, um, world map, that Felix had ripped outta an atlas in the library. The World Book. God … That was the plan.

  JASON: So, why didn’t you go?

  JESSIE: Started working, met Dan, I guess I got caught in the riptide, couldn’t get back to shore. That’s how it is.

  CHRIS: You ever sorry?

  (The weight of the question lands on Jessie.)

  JESSIE: I guess, I wish … I had gotten to see the world. You know, left Berks, if only for a year. That’s what I regret. Not the work, I regret the fact that for a little while it seemed like, I don’t know, there was possibility. I think about that Jessie on the other side of the world and what she woulda seen.

  (Surprising emotions.)

  Whoa. I’m sorry. I didn’t see that coming.

  STAN: Look, I got to see a little of the world after ’Nam. Shit follows you everywhere. In some ways you’re better off not knowing.

  JESSIE: Yeah? You don’t know what you don’t know, until you wanna know, right? And then it’s too late. Istanbul, Tehran, Kandahar, Kabul, Peshawar, Lahore, Kathmandu.

  (Tracey enters with a flurry of energy.)

  STAN: There she is!

  TRACEY: The party can officially begin!

  CYNTHIA: Look who finally showed up.

  (Tracey and Jessie hug.)

  JESSIE (Smiling): Thank you for making room for us.

  CYNTHIA (Offhanded): Yeah! You get lost on your way over?

  TRACEY: Gimme a break, I’m here. Okay. I’m sorry. Get over it!

  (Tracey gives Cynthia a cutting glance.)

  JESSIE: C’mon, you guys. We’re here to celebrate! Both of you get over it. Okay? Calm down. It’s my birthday. I’m just happy my besties are here.

  CYNTHIA: She brought the attitude. I was chill—

  TRACEY: What’s your problem? Relax. Jason, get your ma a beer.

  JASON: Ma?!!

  TRACEY: C’mon, c’mon.

  (She hugs him.)

  I love you!!!

  (Jason walks over to the bar.)

  JASON: A pint.

  (Stan pours a beer.)

  JESSIE: You okay?

  TRACEY: Why wouldn’t I be okay?

  JESSIE: I don’t know, you just—

  TRACEY: What? I’m fine. Let’s celebrate. Yahoo!

  JESSIE: Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like a celebration.

  (Chris searches for a song on the jukebox. Jason digs into a slice of cake.)

  TRACEY: Why are you making such a big deal? I’m late. I’m sorry. I’m here.

  (A moment. Jason gives Tracey the beer. Tracey visibly avoids sitting next to Cynthia.)

  CYNTHIA: Hey, Tracey. We good? Cuz since all of this went down I definitely feel some tension. Maybe I’m making it up, but … We’ve been friends a long time, you’ve always been straight with me. You got a problem, tell me.

  TRACEY: Yeah?

  CYNTHIA: I’m sorry, but I don’t know why I’m catching shade? What’s up?

  TRACEY: Now’s not the time for this. K.

  CYNTHIA: I took this promotion cuz I thought it would be good for all of us.

  TRACEY: Yeah, right?!

  CYNTHIA: And I don’t deserve the things you’ve been saying. You’ve always been cool. Be angry, but don’t make it about this … (Points to the skin on the back of her hand) Look at me, Tracey. You don’t want to go down that road, we’ve got too much history between us. You got a problem, you tell me to my face.

  TRACEY: I just feel like, um … I … I see you getting pretty chummy with “them” … And … The other day on the floor I called out to you, but you brushed me off.

  CYNTHIA: I gotta look busy, that’s half the job, babe.

  TRACEY: I know that, but it’s the way you did it.

  CYNTHIA: Well, I’m sorry! I’m learning. Cut me some slack, okay? There’s a lotta pressure on me right now. // They’re watching.

  TRACEY: Yeah?

  CYNTHIA: Yeah!

  JESSIE: C’mon guys, let’s not do this.

  TRACEY: … And is there something you aren’t telling us?

  CYNTHIA: What do you mean?

  TRACEY: I dunno.

  CYNTHIA: C’mon, don’t play games.

  TRACEY: Are they gonna be laying people off?

  JASON: Whoa!

  CHRIS: Come again?

  TRACEY: Answer me.

  CYNTHIA: Where’d you hear that bullshit?

  TRACEY: A little bird.

  (They all look at Cynthia.)

  CYNTHIA: …

  TRACEY: Are they?

  CYNTHIA: Look, there’s been a little talk about trimming overhead, but there always is—

  STAN: // Talk? We’ll see about that.

  CYNTHIA: I know what’s important, don’t think because I went upstairs that I can’t see the grit on the floor. I got the same aches and pains as you guys. I wouldn’t—

  TRACEY: You’d tell us, right?

  CYNTHIA: Of course.

  TRACEY: Promise?!

  CYNTHIA: Yes.

  (Tracey pulls a flyer out of her pocket.)

  TRACEY: Have you guys seen this flyer?

  JESSIE: No.

  CYNTHIA: No.

  JASON: What is it?

  TRACEY: When I first saw it I didn’t believe it. Then a week ago, I saw a couple of these taped up at the gas station. Do you know what it says?

  (Tracey shows Cynthia the flyer.)

  CYNTHIA: It’s in Spanish. I can’t read it.

  TRACEY: Hey Oscar.

  OSCAR: Yeah?

  (Tracey holds up the flyer.)

  TRACEY: Do you wanna read this for Cynthia?

  SCENE 7

  July 4, 2000

  Outside it’s 84°F.

  In the news: Working Woman magazine reports that the salary gap is narrowing between men and women in some U.S. industries. Reading police crack down on high-crime neighborhoods in response to a recent rise in violent crime. The City of Reading purchases a number of run-down buildings with plans to demolish them in an effort to combat urban blight.

  Outside the bar. Brucie smokes a cigarette, clearly high. Chris and Jason rush out of the bar, past him. Bottle rockets explode in the distance.

  BRUCIE: Chris! Chris! Your mom inside?

  CHRIS: No, but give her some space, she don’t want to talk to you …

  BRUCIE: Hold up. You got a minute?

  CHRIS: No, gotta run.

  BRUCIE: What’s the rush?

  CHRIS: Something’s going on down at the plant.

  JASON: C’mon, Chris. // Let’s move.

  BRUCIE: It’ll only take a minute.

  JASON: Yo!

  CHRIS: Quick—

  BRUCIE: I was just wondering whether you could spot me—

  CHRIS: Now’s not a good time.

  JASON: Yo! Let’s—

  BRUCIE (Smiling): Gotcha, but it only takes five seconds to reach into your pocket.

  CHRIS: Yeah, and a whole week of work to replace what’s in there.

  BRUCIE: What about you, Jason?

  JASON: Sorry, Brucie.

  BRUCIE: I’m getting some benefits next week. The check hasn’t come.

  JASON: Can’t do it.

  BRUCIE: All right I hear you. But … Wait, wait, wait. Chris? C’mon?

  (Chris gives Brucie a hug.)

  CHRIS: Ten. That’s all I can spare.

  BRUCIE: Easy breezy, not complaining, thank you.

  CHRIS: Listen, we really gotta go.

  BRUCIE: Why are you rushing? What’s happening?

  JASON: Dunno, but Wilson says they moved three of the mills outta the factory over the long weekend.

  BRUCIE: What?

  JASON: Don’t ask me. All I know is he passed by there about an hour ago to pick up something from his locker, and the machines were gone.

  CHRIS: Gone …

  JASON: Fucking assholes. He’s c
alling everyone.

  BRUCIE: What are you talking about?

  CHRIS: Gone. Removed. // Gone.

  JASON: Like not fucking there.

  CHRIS: They posted a sign on the door, nobody was supposed to see it until tomorrow morning.

  JASON: A list of names. Me, Chris—our names are on it.

  BRUCIE: What do you think it means?

  JASON: I don’t know, but I’m gonna find out—

  BRUCIE: Sly muthafuckas—

  CHRIS: Makes you wanna hit somebody.

  JASON: We’re going by the plant, I wanna see it for myself.

  BRUCIE: And your mom? She know about this?

  CHRIS: Man, I hope she didn’t.

  (Brucie laughs, knowingly.)

  What’s funny?

  BRUCIE: I’m not laughing at you, shit I’m just sorry to hear it. I know I’m not in the best position to give advice, but this is just the first step. They’re gonna come at you. My two cents, take the small concessions.

  CHRIS: What are you talkin’ about?

  BRUCIE: Cuz when we walked out of the textile mill thinking big, they locked us out, beat down our optimism and we couldn’t get back in. And nearly two years later there ain’t a damn thing we can do about it. Don’t let them bring those temps in—fight it. Because once they do, you’re out. You hear me? I wouldn’t have said that six months ago, but I’m telling you truth.

  JASON: Man, I pray it don’t come to that.

  BRUCIE: Get down on your knees, son …

  JASON: … C’mon, Chris, let’s move.

  (Brucie holds out the ten dollars.)

  BRUCIE: Here, I’ll make do. Believe me, you’re gonna need this. No machines, no jobs. That’s pretty simple arithmetic.

  JASON: Fuck // that!

  CHRIS: Let’s move.

  ACT TWO

  SCENE 1

  October 13, 2008

  Outside it’s 79°F.

  In the news: The Dow Jones gains 936 points, its largest gain ever, following news that the government-funded bank bailouts were approved around the world. In Berks County, Pennsylvania, power shutoffs for delinquent utility customers rise 111% over the previous year.

  TRACEY: You gonna talk or are you waiting for me to dance for you?

  JASON: It took a lot of nerve for me to ring the bell.

  TRACEY: Ding dong, that’s real hard.

  JASON: I didn’t wanna come, but I thought you might be kinda happy to see me. You got anything to drink?

  TRACEY: Who told you, you could sit down?

  JASON: I’m sitting cuz I’m tired.

  TRACEY: Why the fuck did you do that to your face?