Beast – Part 1

This play was performed in Harlem (NY) in 2011.

Winston Bishop: A career criminal. He was convicted of killing his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend. He has been on death row for 10 years.

Nona Pritchard: Married. She is a corrections department appointed psychologist. She has been assigned to Bishop to help him accept the inevitable (his death). She is also writing a book about the social/racial inequities of the criminal justice system.

Setting: Small interview room.

Nona: (She enters with a briefcase. Bishop is sitting at the table; his face is on the desk.) Bishop? Bishop? (He doesn’t answer.) It’s like that? (She puts her briefcase on the table, opens it, and places her jacket on the back of the chair. She sits ROC.) 

Bishop: I guess so. 

Nona: Hi, you alright?

Bishop: (He slowly raises his head.) Yeah. What time is it? 

Nona: (She looks at her watch.) Two fifteen. 

Bishop: You’re late.

Nona: I called. Didn’t they tell you? (He glares at her.) I’ll take it up with administration. How’ve you been?

Bishop: Look around.

Nona: I didn’t mean it like that.

Bishop: Then how? 

Nona: Just asking. 

Bishop: You know the answer.

Nona: Sure. Do you…

Bishop: (He abruptly gets up, goes USL then DSL.) Damn! The questions.

Nona: I’m sorry, but you know how this works.

Bishop: (With disdain) Routine.

Nona: (Shaking her head slowly) Never.

Bishop: No?

Nona: What’s with you today? 

Bishop: Nothing (Rubs his face). 

Nona: (Doubtful) Sure?

Bishop: I’m tired.

Nona: Are you sleeping?

Bishop: Not anymore.

Nona: I’ll give Dr. Hotchkiss a referral. 

Bishop: It’s not that I can’t, I don’t.

Nona: Why?

Bishop: Sleep is death.

Nona: You need to rest, your body…

Bishop: I’m fine. 

Nona: Dr. Hotchkiss… (He moves across the table from her.)

Bishop: No! (He moves back to DSL.)

Nona: (Regroups) Alright. What’s new?

Bishop: Everything, nothing. So this is how it’s going to be?

Nona: Bishop.

Bishop: Last time you…

Nona: Yes?

Bishop: Stop playing games. 

Nona: We should use our time constructively.

Bishop: You’re serious now?

Nona: This is serious. 

Bishop: And nothing’s changed?

Nona: Like what?

Bishop: Tell me.

Nona: Nothing happened. 

Bishop: (Agitated) Fine. Nothing happened.

Nona: What do you want to tell me?

Bishop: You’re scared of me, just like all the others.

Nona: Think so?

Bishop: No question.

Nona: You’d like that wouldn’t you?

Bishop: No, not now.

Nona: When?

Bishop: Before, on the street.

Nona: You enjoyed terrorizing people.

Bishop: I played by the rules.

Nona: Yours?

Bishop: Everyones. It’s life.

Nona: You believe that?

Bishop: They didn’t understand.

Nona: But you do?

Bishop: Damn right!

Nona: Like being here?

Bishop: (Sarcastically) Sure.

Nona: You’ve often said you can take anything.

Bishop: I can. This is nothing. 

Nona: You’re feeling brave today? 

Bishop: Bitch I’m always feeling brave.

Nona: Bishop…

Bishop: (Angry) Then don’t ask me.

Nona: We’re beyond that.

Bishop: Alright… 

Nona: We made a deal.

Bishop: I know. This one’s on me. 

Nona: (She makes a checkmark in the air.) That’s right.

Bishop: So now I owe you?

Nona: If you insist.

Bishop: I don’t. 

Nona: Enjoying yourself?

Bishop: (Playfully) More than you know.

Nona: You like doing that.

Bishop: What? 

Nona: Twisting things around

Bishop: It’s one of those days.

Nona: (Softly) Tell me about it?

Bishop: It?

Nona: Your story.

Bishop: Now you want to help me?

Nona: Always.

Bishop: Get me out of here.

Nona: I’m trying. I’ve written letters to the judge, the governor …

Bishop: (Hostile) Letters? That won’t do shit. Neither will your book. I bet the governor, judge, and prosecutor sleep well at night. They don’t give a shit about me or your charity. 

Nona: That’s what you call it?

Bishop: Yes! 

Nona: You should be more appreciative.

Bishop: Catch me tomorrow.

Nona: You’re acting like a spoiled child.

Bishop: Bit…

Nona: (Scolding him) Ah, ah.

Bishop: Shit!

Nona: Keep it up and you’ll need a commissary credit.

Bishop: That one doesn’t count.

Nona: Who said?

Bishop: I do.

Nona: (Sarcastically) Oh, then it’s official.

Bishop: Funny, real funny.

Nona: We’re okay, don’t worry.

Bishop: What’re you trying to forget? 

Nona: Nothing.

Bishop: Sure?

Nona: Yes. 

Bishop: Would you deliberately fuck someone over? 

Nona: (Defensive) This is my work. 

Bishop: You were assigned to me.

Nona: It’s mutual.

Bishop: Would you have made the choice? (She doesn’t respond.)  Would you?

Nona: Yes.

Bishop: No regrets?

Nona: None.

Bishop: Maybe there’s hope for you.

Nona: (Sarcastically) I’m glad you approve.

Bishop: I didn’t say all that. (She looks at him curiously.) Checking out how the other does it?

Nona: Stop it. 

Bishop: You think I care?

Nona: I want to help you. Did you ever consider that I might believe you? 

Bishop: Honestly, no. 

Nona: Maybe if you’d stop avoiding my questions you’d see things differently.

Bishop: I’m right here. 

Nona: (She looks him in the eye.) Then tell your story. I have faith in you. 

Bishop: My story? We’ve been through that.

Nona: I understand your fear and anger.

Bishop: Today?

Nona: In general.

Bishop: (Laughs) Shit, then you know; dealt a messed up hand. 

Nona: How’s that?

Bishop: Everything; my family, how I grew up, where I lived. I never had a chance.

Nona: Why do you think this happened?

Bishop: (He sits in the US chair.) Cursed.

Nona: Cursed? 

Bishop: (He leans close to her.) Lineage, history, genes.

Nona: All of that?

Bishop: And more.

Nona: (She goes DSR) I guess this is better than the alternative.

Bishop: Which is?

Nona: Being self-destructive. (He is surprised. She looks at him.) Sorry.

Bishop: (His tone is cold and detached.) It wasn’t just me. It’s in the air, water, the dirt, who we are. Why? The oldest reason in the book (He rubs the back of his hand.)

Nona: Race?

Bishop: That’s what you call it? 

Nona: So, you’re black.

Bishop: Today I’m colored.

Nona: Okay.

Bishop: A man of color.

Nona: Bishop.

Bishop: (Sarcastically) Yes Nona? 

Nona: Please focus. (She sits)

Bishop: (He gets up) Now we’re getting somewhere.

Nona: If you say so.

Bishop: You want me to play it safe? 

Nona: I…

Bishop: Well I can’t. What in the hell do I have to be afraid of? I’m dead already.

Nona: That’s how you feel?

Bishop: Why not, it’s the truth.

Nona: It’s not reality.

Bishop: I know how the system works. And they got a man. It didn’t matter what man. I fit the profile. (He faces her, rubs the back of his hand.)  

Nona: Maybe the system isn’t fair…

Bishop: Maybe?

Nona: Okay, it isn’t. But you can’t let that stop you from growing and learning, embracing life each day. These (She looks around the room) are only walls.

Bishop: That’s easy to say when you can leave. You’ve got somewhere to go, a family, people waiting for you. You share good times and bad, you’re free. Nobody’s come to see me in years except…

Nona: Yes. 

Bishop: Play your theme music. (Pause) I don’t want to talk. (He sits down)

Nona: Why?

Bishop: (Hesitates) I told you I’m dead, stink of the other side. Nobody wants to carry that weight.

Nona: Alright, but you’re here. What’s next? You still have choices. How do you want to live?

Bishop: The way that I always have, by being the strongest man that I know. No fear.  

Nona: You think being stubborn’s going to help you? 

Bishop: Help? I’m beyond help. I’m just trying to enjoy my last breaths.

Nona: That’s all you want?

Bishop: Yes, so leave it like that. (He takes a deep breath) Ahhhh!

Nona: Feels good?

Bishop: (Satisfied) Does it. Do I meet with your approval?

Nona: You don’t need it.

Bishop: I’m sure deep in your heart you want to help me. But do you want a failure on your record? “The man Nona couldn’t save.”  That’s your reality. I guess you’ll work it all out in your book. But I’ll never know, will I?

Nona: My book, as you call it, is for you and other men and women in similar situations. This is part of the process to bring positive action to your plight, to make real change. 

Bishop: Thanks. 

Nona: (Exasperated) Let’s go back to your family.

Bishop: (He gets serious) Again?

Nona: It’s necessary.

Bishop: For you?

Nona: Keep fighting brother. 

Bishop: (She stands, assumes a boxing posture, then sits.) That’s smart. I’m a punch holes in the walls and escape.

Nona: Should I get the ice?

Bishop: (Relenting) You’re a pain. (Sits down)

Nona: How’d you grow up?

Bishop: We went through that. 

Nona: It’s like tilling soil. The more you do it the clearer your understanding becomes. 

Bishop: It’s clear to me.

Nona: Is it? 

Bishop: (Takes a deep breath) I had dreams like all boys, wanted to be a fireman, policeman an athlete. Actually I was good at football, even played little league for two seasons. 

Nona: Your family was proud of you?

Bishop: Maybe. I don’t know. When I was on the field I was free, important, powerful. But I wasn’t good in school and got held back, “special.” Then I got into a lot of fights, every day I was fighting, kicking ass. Football wasn’t enough. I needed the rush, that feeling of invincibility all the time. I had to prove myself. But nobody would give me a chance. People were quick to make judgments.   

Nona: You’re bright. You didn’t have to prove anything.

Bishop: I’m not Willie Bosket. 

Nona: Everyone’s unique.

Bishop: I was hot; the smallest thing would set me off. And they were waiting for me to slip, (In a whisper) just waiting. 

Nona: Who’s they?

Bishop: The system, even my own people.

Nona: This made you angry?

Bishop: Of course. 

Nona: You found an outlet in sports?

Bishop: For a short time. 

Nona: But weren’t appreciated? 

Bishop: Never. 

Nona: Ever?

Bishop: No. (She takes notes) What’re you doing?

Nona: Just notes.

Bishop: It has to be the way I say it.

Nona: Of course. But the more details the better. 

Bishop: Keep it the way I say it.

Nona: Alright.

Bishop: Promise.

Nona: I will.

Bishop: Say it.

Nona: I promise.

Bishop: Whatever. (He walks to DSR)

Nona: Go on.

Bishop: You know all this. 

Nona: Do I? If … when you get another hearing you want your story to be clear. You have to touch them to their souls.

Bishop: (Pause) My mother wasn’t what people thought.

Nona: How’s that? 

Bishop: She was sick.

Nona: In what way?

Bishop: She…

Nona: If you don’t want to …

Bishop: I’ve never talked about this. 

Nona: I understand, take your time.

Bishop: No you don’t. How could you?

Nona: I’m trying.

Bishop: Mama was weird about things. We had money but lived poor. We could afford food, new everything but she didn’t want to give.

Nona: Why? 

Bishop: I don’t know. She didn’t have that kind of heart. For years I’d ask myself, “Why Mama, why’d you do that to us?”

Nona: You and your older sister?

Bishop: Yes. 

Nona: How is she?

Bishop: (Softly) Anna? She left a long time ago, couldn’t handle me being in here. I don’t blame her.

Nona: She gave up?

Bishop: She protected me long enough. I could never hate her. 

Nona: And your mother.

Bishop: That’s different. Mama didn’t have to be that way. 

Nona: Not like Anna?

Bishop: (He smiles, becomes nostalgic) She was Great. We were there for each other during those times. 

Nona: What times?

Bishop: All the crazy shit. 

Nona: How did your mother feel about your bond with Anna? 

Bishop: She didn’t like it. I remember… (Pause, tears well in his eyes) she dressed us alike, me as girl, everything, panties, a flower dress, girl shoes. I was a little boy and wanted my mother’s love so I didn’t fight it. I just wanted to make her happy. She said she wanted to see how I looked, ‘cause she ‘didn’t want any boy children, they were too much trouble.’ Trouble? 

I guess she was right. Some kids in the neighborhood found out about me wearing that shit. Teasin’ doesn’t begin to describe it. More like torture. They’d call me “Sally” and “Baby Girl.” That’s the reason I started fighting; to get respect. Then my mother changed. 

Nona: How?

Bishop: She didn’t care. When I got older I’d stay out late, dropped out of school, did whatever I wanted. Most parents would go crazy, she didn’t say boo; until I entered the game.

Nona: Game?

Bishop: The hustle. She didn’t want me in the life. But I watched her and learned anyway.

Nona: What did she say?

Bishop: Nothing at first, then she saw I had some ability. I became the biggest weed seller on my block, then the neighborhood. It doesn’t sound like much today, but I was famous, famous for these too (he holds up his fists). Like I said, I had to fight a lot, but when my name got out there with the dealin’ people started giving’ me real respect. 

Nona: This meant a lot to you?

Bishop: Of course. Where I’m from respect is everything.  Your life ain’t worth living without it. 

You don’t know nothing’ ‘bout the streets do you?

Nona: Does it make a difference?

Bishop: You want to understand me don’t you?

Nona: Sure, it’s your story.

Bishop: I’m tired of hearing that. Come up with something new.

Nona: (She stands up Irritated) You think it’s easy?

Bishop: How the hell should I know?

Nona: It’s not. And …

Bishop: (He gets in her face.) Nothing! (She reacts nervously to his aggression.) Look at you, shook (He walks away from her).

Nona: (Hesitates) Believe what you want.

Bishop: I’m not your plaything. 

Nona: I don’t want you to be. Can we finish this?

Bishop: You’re on the clock. So am I, right? (He laughs)

Nona: (Sits) Feel better?

Bishop: Lighten up. You’re ruining things.

Nona: Now it’s me.

Bishop: That’s right you.

Nona: Who’s it going to be tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that?

Bishop: I’ll be dead.

Nona: Yeah, I forgot.

Bishop: Fuck you. (He stands DSL)

Nona: (Slowly) Bishop, I…

Bishop: (His tone is cold) Let’s play a game.

Nona: What kind?

Bishop: I’ll start a sentence and you finish it.

Nona: I can’t do that.

Bishop: You claim to know me – shrink. 

Nona: Not…

Bishop: Okay. I’ll start. My mother hated me because? (She hesitates, fumbles for words.) Come on.

Nona: She hated herself?

Bishop: Your turn.

Nona: Look I…

Bishop: (Sternly) It’s your turn.

Nona: I work with you because?

Bishop: You want to save the world, no, no, no, me? You want to save me?

Nona: (Laughs) The arrogance.

Bishop: I knew you’d agree. My go.

Nona: That’s enough. 

Bishop: Don’t be like that, another round.

Nona: No.

Bishop: All this time, it’d be over by now. Nona is unhappy because?

Nona: Do I have to hear this bullshit? 

Bishop: You owe me now (He makes an imaginary checkmark). What about, we’re the same because? (She doesn’t answer) Well?

Nona: Stop.

Bishop: You quit?

Nona: Get back to the session.

Bishop: We’ve got time for that.

Nona: You were talking about your mother.

Bishop: My mother…

Nona: Yes.

Bishop: Tell me something about you.

Nona: Enough games.

Bishop: It’s only fair.

Nona: (She looks at him sternly.) Let’s get going.

End of part 1/2