The Shelter

The action takes place in the office of Gentle House, a homeless shelter for men. The office is contained in a small outdated stone building on an inner-city street. The POV is from inside the front door: a low counter, behind the counter an old desk with a push-button phone and an “in” and “out” box for mail, and behind the desk an old swivel chair. Also behind the desk are shelves holding clipboards for shift notes, staff sign-in sheets, and resident sign-out sheets. Below the shelves a small refrigerator contains bagged sandwiches and cans of pop, and a cabinet holds the residents’ medications. On one wall is a window with a few chairs nearby. Within is Stan’s office, a restroom, Jesse’s office, and beyond Jesse’s office a darkened area with several old file drawers. The window looks out on the edge of a wooded park, a small lot where a van is parked, and a lane that that connects the office building to the shelter’s two sleeping halls, mess hall, rec hall, laundry facility, utility building, and storage shed, all unseen by the audience. There is no computer in sight, and modernity is low. 

The characters: 

STAN, the director of the shelter, a social worker.

DEAN, NATE, PHIL, RICK, shelter staff, not social workers. NATE is ten years older than DEAN.  

MR. PLANKETT, TOM BONNER, MR. WILSON, MR. FALLOW, TED SMUTTS, WALT, GARTH, MR. ARTON, homeless men.

Act 1, Scene 1

(The morning. STAN and NATE enter the office by the front door.) 

STAN (To DEAN, seated at the desk): This is Nate, our new man. Walters High, meet Solver High.

NATE: Are we supposed to renew old high school rivalries? Or let bygones be bygones?

DEAN: I think Solver has a better football team than Walters.

NATE: Every school has a better football team than Walters. But our marching band wins state awards.

STAN: Did you play in it?

NATE: No.

STAN (To DEAN): I thought you’d let Nate sign out the men for bus tokens this morning, and show him the ropes.

DEAN: Looks to me like he’s going to slow us down.

STAN: Oh, I don’t know.

NATE (To DEAN): You must be the shelter jerk.

DEAN: Why do you say that?

NATE: I walk in the door, and you’re telling the director I’m going to be a drag. And you tell him right in front of me, as if I’m not here. I’d call that a jerk.

STAN (To DEAN): Looks like you’ve already made a new friend, Dean.

NATE (To both): First impressions can be misleading. I admit there’s some chance I’m wrong. (To DEAN) But I’m willing to bet I’m right about you. Look at the way you sit there like a traffic court judge.  

DEAN: It’s not about making friends here. It’s about running the place efficiently. 

NATE: Is the shelter such a fast-paced environment? Doesn’t look it. (Sits in a chair by the window)

DEAN: It can surprise you. Periods of inactivity are followed by deadlines and emergencies. You have to be prepared at all times, even now, when we’re sitting around talking.

NATE: I stand to be surprised then. The shelter looks like an old hotel, this close to the park. And the residents I’ve seen so far look, well, maybe not like vacationers. Maybe like sleepwalkers. But I’ll carry my weight. I’ve never been a slacker yet. And I give everybody the benefit of the doubt.

STAN: You two iron it out. (Enters his office and shuts the door) 

DEAN: We need people who are focused at all times. You’ll see. In a few minutes the men will come up here for bus tokens. You’ll sign them out on the sheet. I’ll watch you and make sure you don’t screw up. When Mr. Plankett arrives, Stan wants to talk to him. Got that?

NATE: If I don’t, you’ll remind me.  

DEAN (Leaning back with hands behind head): I have time to tell you about myself. 

NATE: It’s not necessary.

DEAN: What do you mean?

NATE: I didn’t come here to become intimate with you or anyone else. I don’t want to learn anyone’s life history, and I’d as soon not divulge mine. Look: I prefer for a relationship to build over time, not be thrust on me all at once. I don’t trust autobiographies. I watch someone and form my own conclusions. Then I choose my friends.  

DEAN: In college I played soccer. Got my right foot stepped on. It’s slightly flattened.

NATE: But how proud we are of our sports injury.

DEAN: When I got out of college, I joined the police force. My parents are professional people, my dad a doctor and my mother a teacher. They thought my civil service was a hoot. They had expected me to go for an advance degree. In the force I rose to the rank of sergeant, and ended up in mounted patrol. Yep, one of the men on horseback you see in town. The stable where the city keeps and trains their horses is off the highway not far from here. You may have passed it if your drove in from the east. I was on mounted duty until I fell off my mount and injured my back.  

NATE: Does this come with an intermission?

DEAN: What?     

NATE: So by falling off a horse you landed in a homeless shelter? That’s a long fall. 

DEAN: Let me finish. I spent five more years on the force behind a desk. Too many of us were bucking for lieutenant, so I took early retirement. I get a pension from the department of police, and that allowed me to get a Master’s Degree in urban planning. I had an interview with the city but got turned down, so here I am.

NATE: You and your Master’s got turned down at one interview, and then you slunk off to a shelter, I see. You sound just like these homeless guys. Before he hired me, Stan let me sit in on some interviews with them. It was always the same story. They get themselves on such thin ice that one setback sends them plunging into the ice water. Alone and jobless. Like you.     

DEAN: I can interview again if I get tired of this place. What are you doing here?

NATE: So now it’s the new man’s turn to come clean? All right, I don’t want to spoil your carefully scripted program. I’m slumming like you, only I’m honest enough to admit it. And I don’t come with a Master’s. I’m just cruising to benefits. I need to work seven more years. My wife works in the downtown part of the agency. She found out about this place and told me about it, and since I’m downsized from my bank job, here I stand. There, now that I’ve spilled my guts, I think I’ll go out and get some air. (Starts for the door)     

DEAN (Looking out the window): Hold on. The men are coming in for their bus tokens. Take my place at the desk and I’ll observe. (DEAN and NATE exchange places and the men, carrying back packs and cell phones, form a sullen, mostly silent line in front of NATE. 

NATE (To the first man as he signs in): You need to write your social security number beside your signature.

DEAN (To the first man): Just sign your name. You don’t need to write anything else.

NATE (To DEAN): No social? 

DEAN: Evidently all the regulations have not yet penetrated your pumpkin head.

NATE: I thought Stan told me they needed to put down their social. But you’ve been here longer than I have. (Pushes two tokens toward the first man) There you go, sir. Two tokens. 

(The men continue signing in. NATE turns to DEAN.)

NATE: Pumpkin head? A guy like you can’t make jokes. You need a sense of humor to do that, and you don’t have one. Your jokes come out like insults. They are insults. And they’re childish, too easy to counter. You call me a pumpkin head, so I call you, what, a pop-eyed toad? You see, there’s no humor and no wit. Just bad feeling. 

DEAN: That’s Mister Plankett in front of you. Do you remember what you’re supposed to do?   

(NATE glares at DEAN and DEAN takes charge.)  

DEAN (Briskly): Pack up your belongings, Plankett. We’ll drive down in a minute to take you to the bus stop, or you can walk there. (To NATE, as PLANKETT exits) You can see I’m a bit of an asshole.

NATE: You’re wrong about that. You can’t be a bit of an asshole. You’re either not an asshole or you’re the entire thing. You may think you’re only an asshole to Plankett, but you’re an asshole to everyone, I’m sure of it. Certainly you are to me. You don’t have friends, do you, Dean?

DEAN: It isn’t our job to be friends with these sub-cretins. It’s our job to enforce the rules. (Pause) It’s us against them, always.

NATE: In a way I envy you. I can’t look down my nose at people out like that. I’m sure in your view I’ll never be up to this job. 

DEAN: You do plan to do your duty to the agency, don’t you?

NATE: Don’t condescend. Each of us will approach the job differently, is what I’m saying. I won’t be a copy of you. I can’t be. I have to be my own man. And if that doesn’t work out here, well, it doesn’t work out. I move on. I can do my remaining years someplace else.     

STAN (Sticking his head out of his office): I need to speak to Mister Fallow. Get him for me, will you, Nate? 

DEAN (Consulting chart): He’s in Hall Two. Run down and tell him Stan’s waiting. Afterward I’ll show you how to file the paperwork when a man is discharged. In triplicate. Hope you don’t have carpal tunnel.

NATE: Ah, a breather. (Exits)

STAN: How’s he doing?

DEAN: There’s a certain pigheadedness and reluctance to enforce the rules. But I’ll make sure he has a thorough grounding in our policies before I’m done.

STAN: Really? He has no history of disciplinary problems, at least nothing turned up in his last reference. I was told he was exceptionally easygoing and adaptable.

DEAN: He will be, once he understands what’s required here.  

STAN: Just don’t go too hard on him. It’s hard to get new people out here. 

DEAN: Did you hire him out of desperation, if you don’t mind my asking?

STAN: Actually I thought he’d be a good fit. Bring stability and maturity. He’s a family man, I understand, has good reviews on his last job, as I said. I’m not quite sure why he’s come to a homeless shelter, but I have an idea. 

DEAN: So do I. He thinks it’s a social club here. A vacation spa. I’ll disabuse him of that idea.

STAN: Do it gradually, that’s all I ask. We can’t afford to lose him right now, unless you want to pull double shifts.  

(Phone rings in Stan’s office. STAN enters and closes the door. At the same time, NATE enters.)   

NATE: Fallow’s outside. He’s enjoying the morning air.

DEAN: Stan’s on the phone now. Wait a minute and then announce him.

NATE: Hell with that. (Knocks on door and STAN opens it, seated) Mister Fallow’s here, as requested.

STAN: Give me a minute (Closes door).

DEAN (Smirking): Told you. 

NATE: I don’t care if you mock me. I’m not studying you.  

DEAN: It’s my job to show you how we do things here.

NATE: That’s obviously your fallback line. Fine. We’ll do things mostly your way while I’m new and in training. But as I already told you, every man does his own job according to his lights. And if you press me too hard, I press back. As I understand the organization, you’re not my boss anyway. Jesse is.

DEAN: You won’t see Jesse. He has six months to retirement, and stays in there (Points behind him to the closed door of Jesse’s office) napping. 

NATE: I wish he’d come out of seclusion and train me instead of you. A superior that inconspicuous must be an easygoing guy. 

DEAN: Too easygoing. There’ll be some changes around here when his successor is chosen, I hope.

NATE: Something tells me you’ll be the first in line to apply. I smell ambition. Ambition in a shelter worker. That might be something new. Maybe I underestimated you, Dean. You’re a power-mad schemer. First the shelter, tomorrow the world.  

DEAN (Rummaging in the desk for papers): Ted Smutts showed up drunk this morning after an overnight pass. We’re discharging him. He has an appointment in here in five minutes. I’ll show you how to fill out the paperwork. But first the fun part. Reading him the riot act and getting him to admit his crime.      

NATE: A man gets discharged for turning up drunk? Is that all he did?

DEAN: The shelter is dry.

NATE: Stan told me about the alcohol prohibition. I’ve been thinking it’s a bit unfair. One reason men are homeless is a drinking problem. Even Stan admits that. To expect them to chuck it all at once seems, how shall I say, unrealistic. I don’t think I’d discharge a man unless he was disorderly or violent. A bit drunk, hell, I drink myself.

DEAN: You agreed to uphold the rules when you signed on. Part of that is determining who comes back drinking and then discharging them. It’s too late to object now. 

NATE: Sounds medieval. Think I’ll discuss it with Stan. He seems reasonable enough.

DEAN: I’ve been stringing you along a bit. Residents get one warning before they’re discharged for drinking. Ted got his warning two days ago. He knows what’s coming.

NATE: I see. Thanks for the play-acting. Were you the one who caught Ted? Both times?

DEAN: That’s right. I smelled it on him as soon as he walked through the door. 

NATE: I knew it.

DEAN: I’m experienced enough now to pick out the one man who’s been drinking in a group of a dozen. First I smell it, then I casually get up and move down the line, and I can identify the source every time. They have no defense when I lay my hand on them. That’s how I got Smutts two days ago. First I smelled him, then picked him out of the crowd, then got him to own up.

NATE: The fun part, as you put it. 

DEAN: I’ll show you another technique when Smutts gets in here. I close all the doors and windows so that the aroma builds up. It gets thick enough that the man himself can smell it. It’s called free-gassing. 

NATE: Free-gassing? Is that supposed to be a scientific term? I think the free-gassing is coming from you.

(TED SMUTTS enters.)

DEAN (Indicating a chair in front of the counter): Sit there, Ted. (TED sits.) Ted, you’ve already been warned once about returning to the shelter drinking. You’ve been drinking again. You know the rules. We have to discharge you.

TED: I ain’t been drinkin’. No way.

DEAN (To NATE): Do you smell it?

NATE: I’m not sure. Maybe something, but it could be cologne or deodorant. Have you showered yet this morning, Mr. Smutts?

TED: No, man. As soon as I got in, he (points to DEAN) told me I was in trouble.

DEAN (To STAN, who enters the room to pick up a file): Stan, do you smell anything?

STAN (Glancing at TED SMUTTS): Have you been drinking, Mr. Smutts?

TED: No, I ain’t.

STAN (To DEAN): You handle it. (To Nate) Where’s Mr. Fallow? 

NATE: He’s right outside, I think. (Looks out the window) No, there he goes around toward the halls.

STAN: Go get him. (Enters his office and closes the door) 

DEAN: We’re discharging you, Ted, for drinking. You can argue all you want, but I can smell it on you. Sign these papers, and our new man here will help you get your belongings together. You get a lift in town or two bus tokens.

TED: I ain’t signing nothing so’s I get booted out. Can I see Stan?

DEAN: You just saw him. You heard what he said.

NATE (About to exit): Got any place you can go?

TED: I got a girlfriend on the bus line.

DEAN: Go there, then. Come back for your stuff later. We hold it for three months, after that it’s donated to the shelter or pitched.

(TED takes his tokens and exits, NATE following. Enter PHIL. PHIL is the anti-establishment with tattoos and longish hair. He carries a well laced-up satchel.)

DEAN: Well, Phil, I see that bomb of yours is still running. Does Stan know you were an hour late yesterday, or should I tell him?

PHIL: Yeah, he knows, what do you think? I can’t be sneaking in here an hour late every afternoon without you knowing, can I, Dean? If I tried, you’d rat me out.

DEAN: In terms of excuses, you’re getting a lot of mileage out of that unreliable clunker you drive. Most of us wouldn’t get that much slack. Or is it something else? Morning psych sessions or meeting with your parole officer?

PHIL: No, it’s the car, Dean. It’s falling apart until I get it in the shop. Whatever you want to believe. Did the new man show up?

DEAN: He’s down helping Ted Smutts bag up his stuff, and locating Mr. Fallow. 

PHIL: Wow, you trust him with all that responsibility right off the bat? (Laughs) He must be a whiz with the homeless.

DEAN: He strikes me as moderately retarded, like you. 

PHIL: Thanks, Dean. It’s a pleasure to work with you, too. So what’s the new guy like? (Without waiting for an answer) Hey, I gotta hit the john. Talk at you later. (Enters the bathroom carrying his satchel and shuts the door)

DEAN: Grab some tokens while you’re back that way. We’re in low supply out here.

STAN (Sticking his head out his door): Dean, Phil here yet? 

DEAN: Yeah, in the can. 

STAN: Tell him I want to see him when he reappears.  

DEAN: If he ever does, I’ll let him know.

STAN: When Ted Smutts gets back up here, give him a ride to Tender Gateway. I put in a call, and they’ll take him. It’s not much of a place, but Ted needs to feel the consequences of breaking the rules. Let him wallow in his own swill for a while.

DEAN: I just told him to take the bus to his girlfriend.

STAN: It’s a free country, but we’re driving him to Tender Gateway. 

DEAN: I’ll take Nate along to show him the ropes, if I feel up to it.

STAN: Good. Or you can let him stay here and man the desk. Phil’s in early, and I can have him show Nate how to use the phone and file.

DEAN: Phil can’t file. Half the papers he puts back there are out of order. You can’t expect Phil to know the alphabet, at least not on a daily basis. 

STAN: Is he the one misfiling things? Well, take Nate with you if you want. (Retreats into his office as NATE re-enters)

DEAN (To NATE): Where’s Ted?

NATE: Waiting for his ride outside. He didn’t wish to further intrude on us in here.

DEAN: You took your time gathering up that feeb’s loose ends.

NATE: I looked around some. Introduced myself to the locals. And found Mr. Fallow in the shower. He said he’d be up when he’s squeaky clean and fragrant.  

DEAN: You introduced yourself to these lowlifes? Why?

NATE: Isn’t that the job? And I found all these unopened bars of soap and toothpaste tubes in Ted’s locker. He’s a real hoarder. Maybe he’s running a black market. 

DEAN: What did you do with them? You should have confiscated them.

NATE: I let him take them. They have a certain used look, despite being unopened.

DEAN: That was a mistake. We could have reissued them, and we don’t want to reward pilfering. And you should have told Fallow to get up here on the double. Stan’s been waiting.

PHIL (Coming from the direction of the restroom, to NATE): Hey, how you doing? (Drops bus tokens on the floor and bends to pick them up) Damn. 

DEAN (Picks up a token and tosses it so that it bounces off Phil’s bent back): Penny for your thoughts, Phil.

PHIL: OK, Dean.

DEAN (To PHIL): Stan wants to see you. 

PHIL: I know, Dean.  

DEAN: I assume he has a medal to pin on you. (To NATE) Come with me. I’ll show you how to drop a man at Tender Gateway. It’s part of your training I have to see to.

NATE: No thanks. I’ll stay here. There’s plenty for me to learn in the office, and I don’t want to slow you down. A guy like me is liable to slow things down, I’ve heard.

DEAN: You need to come with me. 

NATE: Leave me in peace, man. Rome wasn’t built in a day. A man isn’t trained in a day, either. 

DEAN: I’m relaying Stan’s orders.

NATE: Screw you. 

DEAN: Suit yourself. (Exits)

PHIL: That was great the way you stood up to him. That took nerve.

NATE: Not too much. He’s a bit of an asshole, isn’t he?

PHIL: He’s a total pain in the ass. 

NATE: So is this your shift too? Seems like a lot of us here at once.

PHIL: No, man. I’m on the afternoon shift. There’s two of us on each shift, one at the desk and another running around the buildings or going on errands. Except usually the guys just sit up here in the office and bullshit. Most days you’ll see me at three with a guy named Rick, unless I decide to get sick or something. Or you might see me earlier if I need to make up time, like today. Plus Stan wants to talk to me.

NATE: That’s accommodating of you.

PHIL: Yeah, well, I need to play it friendly right now. I’ll explain to you later. I’ll also tell you how to ignore everything that prick Dean tells you, and most of what Stan tells you.     

STAN (Opens door and sticks head out): Thought I heard you, Phil. Come on in.  

PHIL: Right. (To NATE) Hope you don’t mind my leaving you with all these tokens on the floor.

NATE: No problem. I’ll gather ’em up. Give me something to do in this fast-paced environment. (Looking depressed, Phil enters Stan’s office.) 

STAN (To Nate, staring at Phil as he passes): How’s it going with Dean?

NATE: What’s with that guy? He’s really trying to do a number on me. Make me think he’s god’s gift to the homeless. Wants to look big at my expense. Sorry, but that’s how I feel.

STAN: I told him he didn’t have to take you with him to drop off Ted, to give you a breathing space. Dean doesn’t really know if he wants to be here, but you can learn a lot from him. Hope you can cope. (Joins PHIL in his office and closes the door)

(NATE sits at the desk and tries to look as if he belongs there. He overhears Stan’s and Phil’s raised voices in Stan’s office, with no clear understanding of what’s being discussed. He raises his eyebrows a few times. MR. FALLOW enters.)

NATE: Ah, Mr. Fallow. Stan needs to talk to you. Have a chair. 

FALLOW (Sitting): Hey, I need to talk to somebody too. I’m in Hall Two, and the guy next to me isn’t showering. I’ve taken more showers today than he has in the two weeks he’s been here. He smells so bad in this hot weather that I can’t sleep. Can you make him wash up?

NATE: I believe the regulations are that everyone must shower at least weekly. (Picks up a pamphlet and turns through it.) Yep. I’ll go down to talk to him and take some soap with me as soon as another man can take the desk. Let’s see, Mr. Fallow, what’s your bed number?

FALLOW: I’m right by the door in Two. That doesn’t help at all. There’s no air circulation even with the door open, and this man smells like a cesspool overflow or maybe a cancer ward. It ain’t his new leather wallet I’m sniffing. His name is Phelps, bed 24B.

NATE: You’re kind of close together down there, aren’t you?

FALLOW: Packed in like fish in a can. I’m afraid of getting some kinda horrible disease in this place. Last shelter I was in at least had private rooms. 

NATE: Why did you leave?

FALLOW: No spot holds me for long. I’m a rolling stone.

NATE: Which one…Jagger?

FALLOW: Everybody thinks I’m him. It’s my style. And watch out, Phelps’ b.o. ain’t as bad as his breath. I spoke to him this morning and I could swear he ate a turd for breakfast.

NATE: I’ll get on him.     

FALLOW: Good, because it stinks here. 

NATE: It’s beginning to. 

Act 1, Scene 2

(Early afternoon two days later. NATE is sitting at the desk. STAN enters from the front door.)

STAN: We seem to be alone. I’d like to pass along some advice.

NATE: Sure.

STAN: You’ll have some unsupervised time here. But you’re not to abandon your job duties to conduct your own projects. 

NATE: I have no conflicts of interest.  

STAN: I’m glad to hear that. I don’t know if you’ve met Rick yet. He’s doing afternoons now. I’d like you to keep an eye on him. I’ve had reports that he’s working on cars up here. He’s driving them in, and in the evening using the utility building out back as a service garage. 

NATE: Stan, I have a problem with spying on my coworkers. I don’t think being an informer is in the job description. 

STAN: I would consider it your duty to report someone slacking off.

NATE: Is it wrong for Rick to work on cars during his down time?

STAN: Yes, it’s wrong. If he has down time, he could be talking to the residents, seeing if they’re following their programs.

NATE: Even if the residents refuse to follow their programs?

STAN: There is always agency work to be done, and part of it is encouraging the residents to follow their programs. You can look those up in the files, and I advise you to become familiar with them. We can’t have the staff reporting in on agency time just to follow their own agendas.

NATE: From what I hear there is a lot of down time here, Stan. Not so much in the mornings or afternoons, but I’m concerned about the night shift. I’d hate to find out I couldn’t read or listen to music during the long, slow nights, when I rotate to that shift.

STAN: You’ll be spared nights for the time being. Tim’s dropped out of rotation and taken over nights since his wife had a stroke. But eventually, yes, you’ll be on nights. Reading and music are fine so long as you don’t ignore your duties and work another job on agency time. 

(STAN goes into his office, and DEAN enters with WILSON, a new resident. WILSON carries two small duffel bags that he places on the floor.)   

WILSON: When’s dinner?

DEAN: At five. You missed lunch but we have sandwiches. (Makes a “come on” sign at NATE who, slumping slightly, opens the refrigerator and extracts a sandwich bag, handing it to WILSON) After we assign you a bed, you can eat in the mess hall or the park. Then follow the lane around back to the laundry for your bed linen. (To NATE): Assign this man a bed and read him the regs. This is your third day and you should know the sign-in by heart. I could reel it off with my eyes closed after only a day.

NATE: That’s quite a mental accomplishment, Dean, simply phenomenal. All right, sir, basically there’s no alcohol or drugs allowed in the housing. Any medication you have, you leave up here in the office. It’s available on request, 24/7. No fighting or foul language. You must shower at least once a week, strictly enforced. Soap, razors, and deodorant are available. You’ll hear a buzzer at mealtimes. Breakfast is at seven, lunch at noon, dinner at five, daily. You’re expected to maintain a program approved by Stan, the director, and you’ll have an appointment with him tomorrow at eleven-thirty to determine what your program is. Here’s a reminder card. You can work in the kitchen if have experience. If you need bus tokens, apply for them through Stan and your name goes on a sign-out sheet and you get your tokens in the morning. If you don’t return by evening and have not phoned in to request an extension, you will be discharged and need to reapply at the main agency to re-enter. All your belongings will be bagged up and put in our storage shed for ninety days. If you haven’t claimed them in that period, they will be donated to the shelter or discarded. Any questions?

WILSON: I want to work in the kitchen.

NATE: Do you have experience in food?

WILSON: Yeah. I’ve worked at a lot of restaurants.  

NATE: Tell Stan when you talk to him.

DEAN (To NATE): Not bad. You left out a few things. You should have mentioned our rehab programs and church connections. You forgot the rec hall rules. You didn’t demand his guns and knives. (DEAN begins to examine his bags for contraband weapons.)

NATE (To WILSON): Have any?

WILSON: No.

NATE (Consulting chart): I’m assigning you to Hall Two.

DEAN: Negative. Since he might work in the kitchen, he goes in Hall One. That’s closer to the mess hall and it’s where the cooks live.

NATE: Closer by twenty feet, and there’s no hard and fast rule on where the kitchen help live. Plenty of them live in Two. You’ve put some there yourself. 

DEAN (Taking the bed chart away from NATE): You’ll be in Hall One, bed 19A, Wilson. Take off.

(WILSON exits with his bags.)

NATE: You enjoyed stepping on my toes, didn’t you?

DEAN: Sorry, but that’s how we do things here.

NATE: Bullshit. You did that only for the purpose of overriding me. To throw your tiny bit of weight around, as usual. Go ahead and tell me how the shelter would have suffered if he went to Hall Two. I’m waiting.

DEAN: It’s not how we do things. The cooks go in One, chowderhead.       

(Enter PHIL. He is again doing extra time and arrives an hour early.)

PHIL: Afternoon, gents.

DEAN: The medical van’s parked down by the Halls. If you’re on duty, Phil, why don’t you and Nate go and see if you can score us some vitamins or aspirin for the men?

PHIL: Sure, Dean. We’re at your beck and call.

NATE: I’ll go. It’ll bring my day to a happy close.

PHIL (To NATE): No argument?

(NATE shrugs and leaves. TOM BONNER, a new resident, steps into the office, carrying a large, dirty duffle bag. He drops it on the floor and stands before the counter. DEAN is alert at once, PHIL nonchalant.)

DEAN: I’ve been signing men in all morning. You handle him. I’m going to check on the halls. Yesterday on rounds I heard a radio blasting in Hall One. I’m going to confiscate it if I can find it.

PHIL: You do that, Dean. (Dean exits.)     

PHIL: I remember you. You’ve been here before. The rules are the same, so here’s your bed assignment. (Writes on a card and hands it over.) Take it and go. You see the director tomorrow at two in the afternoon for your rehab program.

TOM BONNER: Is it still Stan?

PHIL: Yeah, it’s still Stan. Ain’t life grand? The world hardly turns. I never understand why you guys come back to this place. I would never come back here.

TOM BONNER: Stan told me last time there was no drinking here. I’m sitting there looking at the exploded purple veins in his nose, thinking he must finish off a whole bottle of wine every night at dinner, and he’s telling me I can’t drink. 

PHIL: Just don’t get caught. The park over there and our grounds fill up with empty cans and bottles every day, thanks to our residents. Take a walk and you’ll see. But watch out for raccoons. This ain’t the woods, but at night there’s raccoons in the park, vicious ones, and cops all the time.

(TOM BONNER exits. DEAN enters at the same time, carrying a radio that he places on a file cabinet in the back of the office.) 

DEAN: What’s that smell? You didn’t admit that man, did you? Either it’s your cheap cologne or he’s fumigating this place. 

PHIL: You have the keenest ears and the sharpest nose in the west, Dean. Nice radio. Think I’ll listen to it this afternoon while I sunbathe outside.

DEAN: What’s his name? (Approaches the desk and picks up Bonner’s papers) Let me see, Tom Bonner. I’ll have a word with Mr. Bonner next time I see him. Note in his chart that he was drinking.

PHIL: I didn’t note that he was drinking, Dean. You did.

DEAN: He was drinking. Put it in the notes.

PHIL: Right, right. (Picks up a clipboard and writes on it, reciting): On sign-in, it was noted by Dean that Mr. Bonner may have been intoxicated.

DEAN: May have been? (Comes around the side of PHIL with a small plastic bottle and waves it an inch or two under Phil’s nose)

PHIL (Surprised and indignant): What are you doing, man? 

DEAN: I was conducting a test with some mouthwash, to see if your nose functions.     

(RICK enters the office in time to witness the so-called smell test. RICK is an efficient young man who is well aware that he’s wasting his time at the shelter.)

RICK: Gentlemen. Don’t let me disturb you. Just passing through. (Picks up clipboard, signs his name, then reverses course back toward the door)

DEAN: How’s Rick this afternoon? 

RICK (Continuing toward the door): Can’t complain.

DEAN: I remember Mr. Bonner has been here before. I’m going to check his file. (Gets up and goes back to check the files, changes his mind and enters Jesse’s office)  

RICK (With DEAN gone, he pauses by PHIL): I can’t believe you put up with his shit. I’m out back if anyone asks.  

PHIL (Seeing that DEAN has gone into Jesse’s office): Look, man. I need this job. I’m not going to lose my cool and get sacked just because Dean is a jerk. I’m in enough trouble with Stan already. You know he tried to can me once, and only the union steward saved me. And it’s not like you’re so bold, Rick. You hide out in back until Stan leaves for the day, then you come out of hiding and work on your cars.    

RICK: All I know is, if Dean ever pulled that on me, I’d whale on him. He wouldn’t get up for a week. And he knows better than to try. 

PHIL: Sure he does, Rick. Dean treats you the same way he treats everyone here, like crap. I’ve seen him. I remember the time he grabbed the phone out of your hand and hung it up because he said you were talking too loud. And the time he ordered you not to play basketball with the residents. You meekly dropped the ball.  

RICK: I’d just started here then. Didn’t know my way around.

PHIL: You got that right, he goes straight for the new guy. He’s already getting to Nate. But you won’t admit he gets to you, too. And you take it from him, don’t you? It’s easier than making a stink about him with Stan.  

RICK: Fuck you and Stan both. (RICK turns to go.)

NATE (Entering): Fifteen minutes to go. Hi, Rick.

RICK: Yeah. (Exits)

NATE: Something happen? It seems tense in here.

DEAN (Coming out of Jesse’s office, catches Nate’s comment): Phil just signed in a drunk and didn’t bat an eye about it. 

NATE: Shame on Phil. Phil, didn’t you see the keg of beer the man was hauling?

PHIL: I must have overlooked it. 

DEAN: Mr. Bonner’s already been here three times, according to his file. He was discharged for drinking once before. Jesse put him out, and is awake enough to remember him. Just so everyone knows. 

NATE: What’s eating Rick? It’s disconcerting to find the afternoon staff out of joint just as their shift begins. I’m beginning to feel blessed that I’m on mornings.

DEAN: Your turn on afternoons is coming. We rotate together in about a month.

NATE: I’m on afternoons with you? What a gruesome prospect. I was hoping to see less of your mug.   

STAN (Opens his door, sees NATE looking cheerful and PHIL looking hangdog.): Dean, can I see you a minute?

DEAN (Saluting): I always have time for my commanding officer. (Enters Stan’s office, and the door closes shut.) 

NATE: I heard Dean click his heels together.

PHIL: Huh?

NATE: He’s such a self-promoting grunt. I’m sure he’s bucking for promotion in there, boosting himself at our expense. At Jesse’s expense too, so he can replace him. 

PHIL (Laughs): Maybe it’ll happen, maybe it won’t. (Pause) Jesse’s black, you know. Stan’ll probably want to find another black guy to replace him. 

NATE: Well, it’s pretty clear what Dean’s up to. What isn’t so obvious is what to do about it. How long have you worked with him?

PHIL: Too long. Going on a year. But there’s a way to deal with Dean. Rick and I both know how. He has a weakness.

NATE: What’s that?

PHIL: He can only follow the rules. The rules define everything he knows. He can’t imagine anyone breaking the rules. I don’t just mean the rules here. I mean there’s a whole standard of life he doesn’t comprehend. In a half hour, after you and Dean and Stan are gone, Rick and I run this place our way.

NATE: Interesting. I notice Rick has already vanished. Is he working on a car?

PHIL: You know about that?

NATE: All I know is that Stan suspects him of it. He mentioned to me when I came in today.

PHIL: Yeah, well Stan and Dean may suspect that, since Rick drives a lot of different cars up here, but they’ll never prove it. Rick won’t work on a car until those two and you are gone for the day. That’s what I mean about handling Dean. What goes on behind his back he’ll never figure out. Stan neither. They both play the same sort of straight-up game that doesn’t allow for different goals. Running the shelter is all they care about. As for me, I change too, when the morning shift takes off. You might say I know how to relax up here. You’ll see me take a satchel in the bathroom a lot. You don’t know what’s inside it. 

NATE: I won’t ask. I can guess anyway, unless I’m as dense as Dean and Stan.

PHIL: I’ll tell you one thing. You notice how I’m late for my shift on a regular basis? Stan knows why but Dean doesn’t. It’s because I’m taking a methadone cure for heroin use and getting a shot in the morning. Dean thinks I have to check in with a parole officer or get a dose of Ritalin. I come in here buzzing and laughing at him.

NATE: It’s good to know there are actual human beings here. But I’m not sure keeping secrets from Dean is the best way to handle him. I can see how that would work, but it still doesn’t give him the comeuppance he’s due. 

PHIL: Is that what you’re trying to do? Some of the residents feel the same way. They hate Dean too. One snuck up here one night when Dean had the night shift and slit his tire. 

NATE: That’s more like it. But that’s still acting behind Dean’s back. A direct confrontation would be better. Anyway it’s a thought. I’m not the confrontational type, and have pretty much decided to let Dean go his own way and live with it. I hinted to Stan that I find Dean a bit hard to take, and I think it annoyed him. That’s the other problem. Stan thinks Dean is good for this place because he toes the line. Stan doesn’t have to work with him or take his crap. But then I probably won’t be around more than a year or so. I can’t see retiring from this place after years of service. Dean I feel is a career man. He’ll outlast all of us, and certainly get promoted. Hate to tell you he’ll be the boss, but I see it coming.          

Act 1, Scene 3

(The next morning. DEAN is seated at the desk. NATE is seated in a chair near the window. GARTH, a new resident aged 18, throws a large duffle bag on the floor in front of the window and hands NATE his paperwork. GARTH grunts.)

NATE: You’ve got to be kidding me. Eighteen years old? From high school to homeless shelter? Somebody must be trying to teach you a lesson.

DEAN: If he has the paperwork, we have to admit him.

NATE: He’s got it. Well, son, what’s your story? Been homeless long?

GARTH: My rents kicked me out and won’t let me move back in. That’s my mom out there in the Lincoln. She gave me a lift here. 

DEAN (glancing out the window): Nice car. She looks prosperous. I wonder if the shelter should be involved in family squabbles. Still, if you have the paperwork from downtown….

NATE: What’d you do to get kicked out? Drugs and women?

GARTH: Yeah, mainly the drugs. Got any here?

NATE: Women or drugs?

GARTH: Funny man. 

NATE: Medications only allowed here. We keep them in the office and hand out a dose when you need it. Fork over your Flintstone vitamins and Ritalin. 

GARTH: No Ritalin for me. That’s for kids. I’m big time. I’m a man.

NATE: You’ll be one of the younger residents, Mr. Man. But there are a few not much older than you. 

GARTH: My mom has questions about the camp.

NATE: Go get her. I can be a public relations officer. 

DEAN: This isn’t a camp. The rules will be explained to you. You can call your mother after she gets home.   

GARTH: Like, can she bring me treats and pop here? Are there organized activities? Will I be raped?

DEAN (To NATE): I don’t have time to babysit. I’ll be in the back getting tomorrow’s sign-out sheet ready. Don’t forget to go over the rules and check his belongings for contraband and weapons.

(DEAN exits to the rear of the office, taking his time, then sits in darkness. In a few seconds, the sound of a sports event comes on the radio.)       

NATE: Your mom can visit and bring you stuff. Just mention her to our director Stan at your evaluation interview tomorrow.    

GARTH: Swell. This is a neat place. Reminds me of the police station.

NATE: It’s quiet and peaceful here. Something about being in the shelter calms everyone down. Maybe it’s the park outside. Funny how a few strategic trees give you a bucolic feeling even on a city street. There’s almost no fighting or incident of any kind here, and certainly none is tolerated. And we keep the place free of weapons. No guns or knives. Do you have any, young fellah? If so, we confiscate it now and you may get it back when you leave.  

GARTH: Nah. I’m clean, man. What do you take me for?

NATE: Do you have a criminal record?

GARTH: Nah, I’m only flunking out of school.   

NATE (Gets up, places Garth’s paperwork on the desk, and then turns and approaches Garth’s duffle bag): So what do we have besides clothes in here? (Kneels and touches the outside of the bag.) What’s this lump? Feels like a revolver.

GARTH: I got my CD player and some batteries in there.     

NATE: What about your pockets?

GARTH: My cell phone and wallet. That’s it.

NATE: (Standing up and going to the desk) Watch your money and possessions. We’re not responsible for lost or stolen items. We can stash your valuables in our safe.

GARTH: Yeah, and then help yourself.

NATE: Right you are, Gar. We are thieving hombres here. All of us rich as sin on the poor man’s booty. 

GARTH: I know your kind. What’s for lunch?

NATE: Bread and water for you.

GARTH (Glancing out the window): Guess I’ll say goodbye to moms. (GARTH exits as DEAN returns from the files area. He has left the radio playing at low volume.)

DEAN: There’s America’s youth for you. Does he make you optimistic about our country’s future? 

NATE: He needed you as a father, Dean, that’s what went wrong. He lacked the guidance of a principled alpha male with an iron hand and a birch rod, and now he’s hopelessly immature. 

DEAN: I heard you ask him if he had a criminal record. What did he say? 

NATE: He clammed up, but you can still waterboard him before lunch. (Pause) You have kids?

DEAN: No. Did you check his bag for weapons? 

NATE: I’d say so. Why no kids? Afraid they’d turn out like Garth? You never told me if you’re married, Dean. Is some poor barren woman shackled to you?

DEAN: I don’t understand your answer. Did you check his bag or didn’t you? You should have opened it up and gone through it. Did you?

NATE: I examined it well enough. (Enters shift notes on Garth’s admission on the clipboard. DEAN walks over to Garth’s bag, kneels to examine it, and gets up with a hunting knife in his hand. He sneaks up on NATE’s side and holds the knife up to his face.)

NATE (Stunned): What the hell? (Sits motionless as if in a trance, his face turned toward DEAN who stands right beside him, still holding the knife that he now withdraws)

DEAN: You see the importance of a thorough check for weapons? I could have been Garth the next time he walked up here. I could have intended you harm. (He lays the knife on the counter.)

NATE (Gets up, glares at DEAN with a clenched fist, then turns away and heads out the door): I need air.

(WALT, a resident, steps up to the counter as NATE leaves and bangs his fist on it.)

WALT: I want my medication! I want my medication now!

DEAN (Watches NATE go and then turns toward the medicine cabinet): Keep your shirt on, Walt. You haven’t missed a dosage. 

(As DEAN reaches for the pill bottle, STAN comes in the front door, stepping past WALT at the counter.) 

STAN: Great news. I just came from the business office, and the new air conditioners are going in the sleeping halls next week. I was worried they wouldn’t find room for them in the budget. The contractors are arriving as we speak, for a look-see. (Looks out the window) There goes their truck. Where’s Nate? Is he on the fort?

DEAN: I believe he is.

STAN: When you’re finished here, lock up and I’ll introduce you to the contractors. They’ll be part of our life for the next few weeks. You and Nate might have some questions about the AC units. Of course, the residents mustn’t touch them, but the staff will need to know basic control and maintenance. Imagine, our sleeping halls air-conditioned! What a step up for our men! (Exits out the door)

DEAN (Giving WALT his meds and replacing the bottle after WALT taps out two pills and swallows them): We’re closing now, Walt. Get a scoot on. 

(Instead of leaving, WALT removes a small paper origami figure from his pocket and handles it while DEAN watches.)

DEAN: What’s that, a duck?

WALT: Canary. (Pause) One dollar.

DEAN: Some canary. I’ll pass.  

(WALT turns to go, but before he leaves he sees the knife lying on the counter. He points it out to DEAN.)

WALT: What are you gonna do with that, stab somebody who needs their medication?

DEAN (Placing the knife in a desk drawer): Walt, you have the mind of a little bird. (He motions WALT toward the exit and follows him out, locking the door.)

Act 1, Scene 4 

(Later that morning. NATE enters the office, raps on Stan’s closed door, then strides over to the desk, picking up a clipboard and a pen. Avoiding the desk chair, he sits at a chair by the window and writes. After a moment STAN comes out of his office, followed by DEAN.)

NATE: Stan, the air-conditioning man is outside. Wants to speak to you.

STAN: Umm, all right. I’ll see him. You and Dean come down as soon as you can. He’s supposed to explain the new system to all of us. (STAN exits out the door.)  

DEAN (Sits at the desk and looks at NATE): There’s another pen if that one runs out of ink, Nate. (NATE goes on writing and does not respond.) 

NATE (After writing in silence for a while): I’m telling the world about you, Dean. There’s a lot to tell. 

DEAN: I wouldn’t write anything about us, Nate, if I were you. The staff log is an important communication tool and can’t be taken lightly. It must be scrupulously accurate and objective. Eventually it’s read by the agency department head. It’s not a forum for airing personal opinions.

(NATE, finished writing, rises and places the clipboard on the desk beside DEAN. After a brief pause, DEAN moves the clipboard in front of him and begins reading. NATE returns to his chair.)

NATE (Beginning to crow): Yessir, it’s all about Dean. A very carefully considered description. Not fanciful and straight to the point. I imagine it will get Stan’s attention.

DEAN (Reading): Hmm. Umm. Interesting.

NATE: I think it might change the footing around here. Don’t you? (DEAN is silent.) Oh how his little brain is buzzing, trying to think of a way out! It’s a shame, I have to admit. Dean, the finest shelter worker in the state, the man who had Jesse’s job locked up, and who was about to become second in command at Gentle House, which would go so far toward compensating him for never having made lieutenant on the police force or getting hired as a city planner, now has fallen, his record forever sullied by gross malfeasance. Oh the descent, oh the disgrace!      

DEAN: Now that you’ve had your laugh, what do you say I white this out and you write something less colorful and closer to the truth?  

NATE: It is the truth, Dean-o, and as much as you’d like to whitewash your besmirched little soul to keep it fresh and clean, I won’t allow you to white out the truth.  It won’t do you any good to white it out behind my back, either. I’m going to bring the matter up to Stan in person, to be sure he knows about it.   

DEAN (Placing the clipboard back on the desk): Why not tell Stan what you have to say, and let it go at that?

NATE: Let the written record stand. Anyway, Stan’s busy right now, in case you haven’t noticed. When he picks up those notes, I want him to have time to savor them. I want the entire staff to savor them. In the meantime I’ll keep an eye on you. That’ll be a pleasure. You’re old enough to remember Watergate, aren’t you, Junior? Remember the phrase “twist in the wind”? That’s what I want to see you do, Dean, twist in the wind. You have it coming. I’m going to teach you a lesson in how to get along with your peers. I hope you’re ready to learn. Are you ready, Junior?

DEAN: I can refute this. 

NATE: You’ll get your chance. Twist, Junior, twist.

STAN (Enters and speaks proudly): Gentlemen, care to have a look at the new air conditioning system at Gentle House? They’ve unloaded the unit for Hall One and are getting ready to connect it.

NATE (Getting up eagerly): You bet!   

Act 2, Scene 1 

(That afternoon)  

PHIL: Did you see this morning’s shift notes, Rick?

RICK: I never read those things.  

PHIL: Oh, man, you should. When I got here, Nate had this sort of smirk on his face that made him look dumber than usual. He just sat here and talked like nothing was out of the ordinary, then left when his shift ended. Dean’s still locked with Stan in there (indicates Stan’s office.) At least, that’s his ugly green car out there, and every once in a while I hear his voice.

RICK: So what’s up? Dean get picked to be our new boss?

PHIL (Laughing, picks up the shift notes and prepares to read them): That may never happen. Listen, this is from Nate this morning: “As I was sitting at the front desk completing admission forms for Garth, Dean explained to me that in his view I was lax in examining Garth’s belongings for weapons. Dean then crept up on me from the side and held a knife to my face, inches from my eyes. For a few moments I wondered if he was attacking me, but I was too stunned to react right away. This is the most reprehensible behavior on the part of a co-worker I have ever had perpetrated against me, and I must insist that the Stan take this matter up and resolve it right away. In my opinion Dean is unstable and potentially dangerous, and the matter must be addressed immediately. If it is not resolved so that my safety and that of everyone is assured, I have no choice but to notify downtown and perhaps initiate a lawsuit against the agency for failing to respond to a hostile work environment. I may also explore a separate lawsuit against Dean. Let this note serve as a warning that Dean is dangerous and that I expect action to be taken.” How’s that for a good morning’s work? (Places the notes back on the desk)

RICK: It’s Dean’s own fault. You can’t go around treating everyone like shit and expect to get away with it. This was bound to happen. 

PHIL: But it took balls to stand up to Dean. No one’s ever done it before, not even Stan. I have to hand it to Nate. (Laughing) This is going to be good.     

(STAN and DEAN emerge from Stan’s office. They pause and stare at PHIL and RICK, who stare back.)

RICK (Rising): I’ll be around back. (Exits)

STAN: Can you go with him, Phil, check on the halls? Dean and I could use some privacy. 

PHIL: Sure, Stan. (He follows RICK out. STAN and DEAN are now alone in the office.)

STAN: Tell me again what happened, Dean. 

DEAN: I performed a demonstration of what might result if we overlook the rules. I think it was a valid demonstration.

STAN: You really did hold a knife to his face, right up to his eyes?

DEAN: So that he could see it, yes, but not right in his eyes. I made no threatening move.  

STAN: But the knife was in your hand. And his notes say it came within inches of his eyes.

DEAN: Two feet is twenty-four inches, so I suppose you could say it was within inches.

STAN: Are you saying the knife came no closer than two feet? Is there a discrepancy here?

DEAN: I don’t know how close it was. There was no danger of the knife making contact. I was in control.

STAN: But you came at him from the side and by surprise, as the notes say, and you wanted to be sure he saw it? A hunting knife? 

DEAN: Yes. 

STAN: The new man Garth’s hunting knife, from his pack?

DEAN: That’s where I found it. Nate overlooked it.

STAN: All right, but how was Nate to know you presented no danger? That it wasn’t really a weapon? You see the problem. Only you knew what rules you were playing by. Nate says in his notes that for a few seconds he felt he was actually under attack by you. Can you blame him?

DEAN: I realize now I went overboard. It’s just so frustrating to me, Stan, when the others on staff don’t take the rules seriously and understand how important they are. In my devotion to duty I arranged a demonstration without considering all the ramifications. 

STAN: I should say you didn’t. You’ve read the notes. Nate’s got both of us over a barrel. (Sarcastically) Did you count us getting sued as part of your demonstration? 

DEAN: That’s all nonsense, at least the legal action part. Nate knows perfectly well what I was trying to do. He’ll get nowhere.

STAN: You think not? Are you a personnel arbitrator? Are you a lawyer? If this goes downtown, there will have to be some kind of internal hearing and arbitration. That must follow. As for a lawsuit against you, and even against me, I have no idea.  

DEAN: Nothing to worry about. I can engage a lawyer or employee arbitrator as easily as Nate can. (Pause) What does he want, do you think?

STAN: I haven’t spoken to him yet, and he hasn’t approached me. The shift notes are all I have to go by. I thought I’d speak to you first, since you’re usually level-headed, and maybe he’ll cool down in the meantime. But no matter what he says, my first action has to be to separate you two. I’ll have to juggle the shifts so that your times don’t overlap. I can already hear Rick and Phil when I ask them to do extra hours. This is going to be no end of trouble. 

DEAN: He probably wants my dismissal.

STAN: I have no idea. But do me a favor. Until I alter the schedules, avoid him as much as possible. Make sure if you’re with him that there’s always a witness. If that’s not possible, just remove yourself from his presence. I have to guarantee his safety in case he feels threatened by you. 

DEAN: Do you think I’m a danger to him?

STAN: You did this thing, didn’t you? I have no choice but to play it safe. I also have to protect you from him in case he acts out in vengeance. My god, what’s happening to this place? This morning I was excited about air conditioning, and now there’s a civil war going on.   

DEAN: Hear me out. If I stand to suffer in any way from this, I’ll resign. Before I pay for doing something I have a clear conscience about, I’ll walk away from here.

STAN: That may be what he wants, of course.

DEAN: He’s complained about me before, leading up to this, I’m sure of it. 

STAN: You read the shift notes. You know he hasn’t.

DEAN: Not in person?

STAN: No. Oh, he did mention you come on a bit strong, but nothing serious.

DEAN: Let me ask you this. Whose side do you take?

STAN: As always, I take the side of the men under my care, the residents and the staff both. I only wish this hadn’t happened.

DEAN: You don’t in the least think I was justified?

STAN: I think, Dean, you may find that no one does. I don’t need to tell you that Phil is delighted. I suspect Rick is too. Jesse told me he’s never seen anything like this. He actually woke up long enough to read Nate’s entire entry. I’m only beginning to understand certain relationships here. I, who thought I could read people. 

DEAN: Yes, and who knew Nate could be such a troublemaker? I thought he was inert and a dullard. I still do.

STAN: I should have warned you not to underestimate him. When he interviewed for the job, I saw that he was not completely stupid. But then, what could I have said to you—“Dean, don’t provoke this one”?  

DEAN: You think I fell into a trap, don’t you? I disagree. It’s all blundering and stupidity on his part. When everything is known, I must come out on top. But I’m worried about how they think downtown, if it goes that far. Will they see my side, do you think? I have no experience with those people. In my four years here I’ve been there twice, and both times for quick errands. I don’t know anybody. I’ve always preferred the isolation of the shelter.

STAN: I promise you this: I’ll try to resolve it here, and not let it get away from us and get that far. Maybe Nate was blowing smoke in the notes and will get over it quickly. He clearly wrote them in the heat of the moment. But if he insists on taking the matter downtown, I can’t stop him. And from there I can almost assure you some agency reprimand will go in your file. You may have to attend training session on civil treatment or employee interaction.  

DEAN: I tell you again I refuse any such discipline or reprimand. I will quit and walk out of here at the first sign it’s coming. 

STAN: Why, Dean? You absorb a few seminars on teambuilding and avoid Nate for a while. In six weeks it’s all forgotten and I might even hire you to replace Jesse. I would still consider you, if you promise to curb your zealousness a bit.

DEAN: No. I won’t put up with any disgrace from this place. My record is clean, and I intend to keep it that way. I won’t be dragged down by some stupid protocol because I insulted the dignity of a moron. I hate to say it, but my position here just isn’t worth it to me. I can go elsewhere. I’ve got a Master’s degree that’s going to waste here. Sorry to leave you up in the air for an assistant, if it comes to that.

STAN: Proud, aren’t we, Dean? I always suspected you wouldn’t sacrifice anything for your position here. I’m sure of it now. But think it over, because the choice might be coming.

DEAN: Then you’ll lose me. And I can run this shop. None of the others can, you know that. You’ll lose your most capable man. 

STAN: More’s the pity. 

Act 2, Scene 2 

(Early the following afternoon)

PHIL: Oh, man, here he is, the man of the hour! What’s it feel like to hit Dean where it hurts?

NATE: As you know, I was waiting. Dean had to overstep his bounds sooner or later, and he did. I tell you, when he came at me with a knife, I was in shock. Not because I thought he was attacking me, but because I understood what it meant. He had handed me the advantage. I could stop playing along with him, pretending to find him bearable, and win it all. And you know what? I could even have gotten away with more than launching a grievance against Dean. I could have jumped out of the chair and slugged him in the face—wouldn’t that have surprised him?—and then claimed it was self-defense. And not only self-defense, but instinctive and unpremeditated self-defense. My hand is so strong now that I could have bluffed my way through that, I think. That’s my one regret, that I didn’t punch Dean on top of the other steps I’m taking.

PHIL: Yeah, you could have gotten away with it! You could have! Socked him right in his fat face!

NATE: Yep, and still kept my job, since it would look like everything was Dean’s fault. You know, when it comes down to it, I lack the killer instinct. I’m too nice a guy.

PHIL: You are. You’re a sweetheart. You’re a valentine. You’re not going to let him off, are you? Forget about the grievance? You know, Dean can forget about becoming our boss if you keep it up. Please, please, keep it up. It’s too entertaining. 

NATE: Entertaining? I guess it is. Of course we already work for Dean, in a manner of speaking. That’s what it feels like, anyway. My job now is to put a stop to all that.

PHIL: Do it! But I’ll level with you. I could manage working for Dean, just like I manage being his co-worker, even though, as you say, it’s like he’s already the boss. I just operate behind Dean’s back and pretend to go along. No sweat. You’re the one who can’t get along with him. The rest of us have for a couple of years. For me and Rick, your battle with Dean is just a diversion. Fun, but not important. 

NATE: He’d fire you if he gets control. You know that. He’d never let you arrive an hour late every day. 

PHIL: Maybe, maybe not. We all have union protection.

NATE: He disdains you. Thinks you’re beneath him. You know what he says about you behind your back. You know because he talks about all of us behind our backs, and we keep each other informed.

PHIL: As long as Stan has the final word, I can manage here. But you do what you have to do. I’ll support you. I just don’t care about the final result. As I said, for me it’s only entertainment.       

NATE: I haven’t figured out yet how I want this to end. I’m still exploring all the angles. If you want to help, keep this conversation between you and me. I don’t want Stan or Dean to think I’m faking my outrage. I want the both of them to take this as seriously and urgently as they can. But you know, I really am outraged. I’m just not as outraged as they think I am. I have to play this right.   

PHIL: I won’t tell anyone you’re faking, except maybe Rick.

NATE: Come to think of it, it doesn’t matter who you tell. Everything’s fluid right now, and no one knows what the truth is. Go ahead and tell Rick and Stan too, why not? 

PHIL: Stan wouldn’t believe me anyway. He doesn’t believe a thing I say. And I don’t believe anything he says.  

Act 2, Scene 3

(The same afternoon before NATE leaves for the day. STAN is alone with NATE in the office.)

STAN: You’ve got Dean in a bind. He’s unsure how you’re going to proceed.

NATE: I have every right to be outraged and I’m going to make the case that Dean should be let go or at least disciplined severely.

STAN: Any way I can get you to change your mind? 

NATE: Are you representing Dean?

STAN: No, no. If it comes to that, a union arbitrator will be engaged. But as the supervisor involved, I am entitled to address the situation and resolve it if I can.

NATE: I get the impression you’re on Dean’s side. 

STAN: He’s a good man. 

NATE: From your point of view, I can see that he is. He’s reliable, responsible, knows all the regs inside out and is willing to enforce them. He’s an adult here, among all these childish residents and some less-than-grownup staff. And if the rumor is true that you’ll be promoting someone to fill Jesse’s supervisory slot, I can see that Dean would be a shoe-in. You wouldn’t have to train him, and he’d do anything you asked. He’d completely free you up from the routine running of the shelter. He’s better than good, he’s perfect. From my point of view, though, he’s in violation of civil treatment and safe behavior. Hell, he attacked me. How should I react?

STAN: You seem like a reasonable sort. I don’t think you believe he meant to attack you. 

NATE: It doesn’t matter what he meant. There’s no way you can convince me that his behavior is acceptable or tolerable. It’s outrageous, whether he meant to attack me or not. You don’t come at your co-worker with a knife in your hands. How would you feel if he did it to you? Or I did it to you, or anyone? 

STAN: Agreed, agreed. But he didn’t actually come at you, did he? 

NATE: Of course he did. Let him try to deny it. He practically jammed a knife in my eyes, sneaking around my side and coming at me by surprise. How was I supposed to react to that? I would have been justified in defending myself physically, anyone would agree. The next time it happens I will, that I promise you. Whatever Dean says he was trying to accomplish, his behavior is not rational. You, as the supervisor involved, need to be telling Dean that, it seems to me, instead of faulting my case against him. That case is rock solid.   

STAN: I have talked to him. I’m talking to both of you. You know, if you continue to push this, Dean will quit. 

NATE: Quitting may not solve his problem. If the agency doesn’t discipline Dean, I may take my case to court. I’m looking at all avenues. I wrote that in the shift notes, and I haven’t decided yet what my best course is.

STAN: One way to look at it is, Dean was trying to educate you. I understand you failed to confiscate Garth’s knife when he was admitted, and Dean found it in his pack. 

NATE: Dean’s a liar. I examined Garth’s stuff, and there was no knife. What there is, as you know, is a desk drawer full of knives here that residents have left behind. I suggest that’s where Dean found the knife. Ask him. Ask Garth, too.   

STAN: You’re positive? You couldn’t be mistaken? Dean swears to it.

NATE: Of course he does, he’s self-cleaning. But I’m positive. I made a thorough search. And Garth isn’t the Jim Bowie type. More the David Bowie type.

STAN: All right, I’ll question them, if I can find the time. (Pause) There’s no way Dean can make amends?

NATE: It strikes me as odd that he hasn’t said a word to me. You know, he hasn’t even apologized. Maybe I would accept that. 

STAN: I’ve told him to stay away from you. That may be why he hasn’t said anything. And for the protection of you both, you should avoid him also. As for an apology, would you accept one? Is it as simple as that?

NATE: Well, I might have accepted one. As you say, I’m reasonable. If Dean had instantly acknowledged the stupidity and even insanity of what he did and apologized, assuring me it would never happen again, I might have accepted that at the time. But I don’t think I would now. And maybe I wouldn’t have then. (Pause) Do you honestly think I should? 

STAN: I don’t know. I only know that I can’t allow you two to work together until this is resolved. This is going to create a big scheduling problem. 

NATE: I can’t consider that my fault.        

STAN: Are you really blameless? I know Dean isn’t the easiest man to work with. I’ve known since I hired him that he really doesn’t think he belongs here. 

NATE: I disagree with that. I think he feels right at home here. Very much so.

STAN: Hear me out. I’m interested in knowing how you and Dean interacted. Maybe you could have accommodated him more. Taken him on not as an enemy to be defeated, but more as a sparring partner. Sized him up and parried his blows, not out of rancor but just as a mental exercise. If you work with him again, make it a battle of wit and words and enjoy that. It would give you something to do when there isn’t a lot of work. Instead you let resentment build up and take control of you. Why? 

NATE: I tried to get along with Dean, Stan. I know I did. I kept the line open between us, joked with him about his authoritarianism and his sometimes crazy reasoning, and all it bought me was more of the same. It wore me down. There’s something about being counted as nothing that tears me up inside. Another man could have brushed it off, I suppose. Some lighthearted and witty soul, who enjoys yapping and making repartee all day, might have verbally put Dean in his place. But that man isn’t me. Dean refused to go in his place and all my attempts made no impression on him.

STAN: You’re wrong there. He had begun to respect you. He may not have shown it to you, but he told me he thought you were a keeper. 

NATE: If he wanted me here, it was because he found me no threat to him. His eyes are constantly on Jesse’s vacant position. He’s been systematically clearing away the competition, making sure he stands tall among the rest of us, at least in his own mind. After a few days I saw that that he had eliminated me, by his reckoning. I had begun not to argue with him, but to submit and treat him as the boss he already saw himself to be. Then he went too far.  

STAN: And you were waiting for him.

NATE: No! It just happened. But it’s made the relationships here clearer. The situation should be a warning to you about Dean, shouldn’t it? But you tend to ignore the central issue. Even if I stop at this point, accept Dean’s apology or even his lack of apology, things can’t be the same again. Because you, Stan, have to follow through on what Dean did, even if I let it rest. You’re ready to make schedule changes so that Dean and I don’t confront each other in the office or the halls. That’s fine, but it’s only the beginning. Aren’t there other things you have to do, Stan? Answer me that. This has to go the distance. And whose fault is it that, mine or Dean’s?   

STAN: You won’t settle for laying the matter to rest here?

NATE: Will you? 

STAN: Yes, if you will.

NATE: So then. That makes the situation clearer still. You’re willing to take the chance that no one will examine the staff notes, here or downtown, and start asking questions? 

STAN: Yes. We support each other.

NATE: And to be sure we white out the staff notes, or destroy them? Cover it all up? Hope Phil, Rick, Tim and Jesse won’t spread the word downtown, bringing an inquiry or investigation out here? Then you allow me and Dean to go on working shifts together as if nothing had happened, and hoping nothing will happen again? 

STAN: Perhaps I misspoke. I’ll need to think about where my duties lie.

NATE: I think we all need to be very clear on one thing. Dean has really screwed up, and it can’t be erased. Not now. 

STAN: No doubt you’re right. But who said I was going to hire Dean to replace Jesse?

NATE: It’s taken for granted. I’d be astonished if you didn’t want to. And Dean assumes it. 

STAN: In fact I’m considering not replacing Jesse. All you men do is move widgets, and Jesse supervises those movements. His two main duties are signing off on the time sheets and ordering supplies. Perhaps those duties don’t actually justify an assistant’s position.  

NATE: I could be your man. I’ve done time sheets, and keeping the shelter stocked doesn’t seem like a great issue. A few widgets to move, as you put it, nothing more.

STAN: You’d be interested in the job? Seriously?

NATE: No. I can’t see myself in it. The ground is shifting under my feet, that’s what made me say it.  

STAN: I don’t see you in it either. And as I say, I haven’t made up my mind yet about Jesse’s job. My real concern at this point, if Dean leaves us, is a staff shortage. 

NATE: Whatever you decide about Dean, I consider I still have the option of going over your head to downtown. And if Dean asks, yes, I may file assault charges. I haven’t decided yet. 

STAN: About that lawsuit, Dean thinks you’re bluffing.

NATE: Bluffing? It’s between us. Do your job and fucking stay out of it.  

Act 2, Scene 4

(The next morning. NATE is sitting at the staff desk. DEAN enters and signs the time sheet on the desk, then sits in the chair farthest from DEAN and unfolds a newspaper. He reads.)

NATE: Morning, nemesis. Good to see you still following orders and maintaining a space between us. And of course I missed you at the breakfast table, since you were forced to keep your distance. Did you enjoy your fruit medley with the usual gusto, at that distant table in the rear? I was afraid the lack of me as a breakfast companion might spoil your appetite. 

DEAN: My orders come from him (Points to Stan’s office). I have no choice.  

NATE: But aren’t you the least little curious to know what I decided? I promised Stan I’d let him know how I planned to proceed with this before I left work yesterday, but then I told him I needed to think on it overnight. This morning I made my decision.

DEAN: I’ll take my cue accordingly. Stan knows where I stand.

NATE: But have you nothing to say to me, Dean, old compadre? You know, the right words could sway me a good deal, even get me to forget about it. 

DEAN: Whatever you do, I’ll find it out from Stan. You can stop talking to me at any time.

NATE: Where is our chaperone, by the way?  Stan promised to keep an eye on us. He said he wouldn’t risk my being exposed to another of your training procedures that resemble felonious assaults. That’s what he said you called it, a training procedure. At least I lived through it. 

DEAN: It wasn’t felonious assault. I didn’t touch you.

NATE: Lawyered up, have you? Getting to know the legal terms? Good move. I also notice you haven’t written anything about our incident in the shift log. Been advised your words might be used against you?

DEAN: I don’t need a lawyer. You don’t have a case. You’re bluffing.

NATE: You can stay, or you can fold. As long as we’re both in the game, the situation remains volatile. Here I am, a sitting duck, defenseless against your next attack, except for the drawer of long knives, as I think of it, where we stash the residents’ blades that we confiscate. (He opens a desk drawer and peers into it, then closes it again with a bang.) Which one of these is Garth’s, any idea? (A pause, during which DEAN is silent) Stan as usual is locked in his office kingdom, oblivious to his petty subjects, when he should be out here buffering us during this tense period.

(Pause. Both men look bored.)

DEAN: I believe our leader’s on the commode.

NATE: Yes, the kingdom can also be run from in there. But that’s no excuse, in my opinion. In fact, I’m shocked he’s taking the situation so lightly, aren’t you? It really forces my hand. I don’t believe, if this morning is any example, that Stan is the man to resolve our issue. So I’ve written a little letter, enclosing a copy of our shift notes, outlining the situation and demanding immediate action from the good people downtown. (Holds up a yellow envelope) Here it is, already sealed and addressed to the head of HR. (He ceremoniously places the envelope in the mail “out” box in front of him.) Now I’m putting it in the “out” box for the mailman. I can trust you not to interfere with it, can’t I, Dean? I’ll have to turn my back on you sooner or later, but I know a man of honor like you wouldn’t tamper with the in-house mail, than which no mail is more sacred.

DEAN: Wouldn’t think of it.

NATE: Won’t spill whiteout on it?

(Pause. DEAN says nothing.)

NATE: I knew I could count on you.       

(STAN enters from the restroom, sees that both men are sitting quiet and motionless, and looks from one to the other.)

STAN: Ah! Well! (Makes noncommittal noises) I phoned Rick earlier, and asked him to work extra hours. He resigned, effective today. How do you like that? 

(Pause. Both NATE and DEAN continue to look bored.)

NATE: It was time for Rick to leave. He’s looking forward to starting his own car repair business.

STAN: Yes, and he got a lot of experience in that trade right here. But his timing is hardly opportune. It seems a seismic shift is taking place, displacing half the staff. These next few weeks are going to be hard on all of us. If either of you know someone who wants a job, someone with solid work history or a background in social work, send him my way. It’ll be a while before HR can run ads. I was thinking of asking Robert, the maintenance man, if he’s interested. He works downtown and comes out here as needed, and he’s told me in the past he’d like a staff position. I have only one reservation. Robert’s a nice guy, but he can ramble on for forty minutes about his favorite pair of pliers, or the tightest screw he’s loosened. I don’t know if I could bear listening to the man.  

DEAN: I recommend moving Tim from the night shift to do mornings with Nate. He must have his wife squared away during the day by now. For nights, you can hire a temporary security guard. We’ve done that in the past.

STAN: I already have a phone message in to Tim about that. I haven’t heard back from him, but I’m not optimistic. I’ve heard his wife is worse.  

NATE: I’ll let my friends know you’ll interview them for a slot. I know at least one will be interested.

DEAN: What friends?

NATE: Unlike you, I have friends. (Pause) Reliable men I used to work with.

DEAN: Stan, I need to speak to you.

STAN: Ah, yeah, sure. Step in. (He opens his office door and begins to walk in.) Don’t go anywhere, Nate. I need to speak to you right after. (He enters his office, leaving the door open.)

NATE: Before you go in, Dean, there’s something I want you to know. ) DEAN faces him.) That envelope addressed to HR has nothing to do with you. It’s my request to HR to take an in-house class in employee management. That’s all. I was psyching you out.  

DEAN: Do you mean you’re willing to hit the reset button?  Start again with no grievances?

NATE: Yes, provided you give me an apology, in writing, that is convincingly heartfelt. Be prepared to rewrite it several times before it satisfies me. You will also need to read it aloud to me, movingly. Do that and I’ll drop the entire matter. Even burn the shift log, or let you white it out. I’ll also back you for Jesse’s position. You can tell Stan. I haven’t yet.

(DEAN enters Stan’s office and closes the door. GARTH enters.)

GARTH: Hey, dude, I got a job! Who da man?

NATE: Congratulations, Garth. Jobs are hard to come by.

GARTH: Not for me. I bet I’ll be earning more than you. Show me your last pay stub.

NATE: Don’t have it on me. But it was minuscule, take my word for it. 

GARTH: I might even work here, if assistant manager at Hamburger Don’s doesn’t work out.

NATE: Assistant manager, not bad. Keep plugging away, kid. But you couldn’t hack it here.

GARTH: Only old geysers like you can cope, I guess.

NATE: There’s truth in that. A certain life experience is required, a certain accumulated wisdom and practical experience in handling life’s minor and major issues. I’d say you were a bit callow as of yet. A mite raw and untutored. That’s the problem with half the staff here. This is a job for retirees. Younger men will never be satisfied in this slot.  

GARTH: Did you call me “callow”? What are you talking about? I’m the man!

NATE: I’m going to treat you like a special case. Make you follow your rehab program and toe the line. Maybe assign you some extra chores and books to read. Raise you like my own son. When you leave the shelter in a year or two, you’ll have the equivalent of a Bachelor of Arts degree from an Ivy League university. You’ll go straight from the shelter to law or business school. Doesn’t that sound grand?   

GARTH: Are you crazy? I’m not doing any extra work. Extra work is for wusses, and I’m the man! See you, crazy man. 

NATE: Hold up, Garth. I want you to remember something. Dean confiscated your hunting knife. He’s holding it for you until you leave for good. Don’t forget to ask him for it.

GARTH: He took my hunting knife? Yeah, I need that back. It’s my dad’s. Gimme a receipt, and don’t lose it. 

NATE: You really brought a knife here?

GARTH: You’re the one who said it was mine. Always try to pin something on me, aren’t you, shelter man.

NATE: Not me. 

GARTH: You’re nutso. (He exits.) 

(DEAN emerges from Stan’s office and exits without looking at NATE. STAN follows behind him and stops before NATE.)

STAN: Dean just quit! Now I’m two men short. Hope you’re satisfied.

NATE: Satisfied? (Leans back with hands behind head) No, actually I’m surprised. (Pause) Good riddance, I say.

STAN: You would say that. But your good riddance is a serious gap in my staff.

NATE: Don’t worry. I take this all very seriously. I promised myself that if it came to this, I’d stay on and get my friends to apply here. I mean that. And now that I’ve seen Dean’s leaving, I’ll make good. I’ll stay on at least a year, maybe longer if you give me Jesse’s job. How’s that? 

STAN: And whom would I be promoting? I don’t know you, and I doubt I ever will. Your whole personality seems changed since Dean’s misstep. You seem to think that now I owe you something, as if you did me a favor. (Pause) You told me you didn’t want Jesse’s job. 

NATE: Changed my mind. Perhaps I’m coming into myself. 

STAN: Well, I’m not promoting you. I’ve decided I can do Jesse’s job myself. No one’s going to get it.   

NATE: Did you tell that to Dean?

STAN: No, it didn’t come up.

NATE: I thought maybe that was why he stormed out. Because I told him before he went in to see you that I wasn’t going to take the issue between us any further. I told him I’d forget all about it. 

STAN: I guess he didn’t believe you. Maybe you weren’t convincing. Or maybe he thought it was another trick.

NATE: Another trick? What did he say?

STAN: Why should I tell you, so you can revel in it?  

NATE: The master of dirty tricks around here has been Dean, you know.

STAN: So you say, so you say. It was Dean who made Phil chronically late and careless in his duties. It was Dean who made Rick work on cars during his shift. It was Dean who made Tim insist on holding on to the night shift and not taking his proper rotation. It was Dean who did Jesse’s job without complaint and without extra compensation in addition to all his regular chores. And it was Dean who filled you with resentment, though he told me you were a keeper for the job. Dean is the best man I ever had up here. You may not have agreed with his methods, but I could count on him perform reliably every day, to carry out all my wishes, and to train new staff by the book. Whether they went by the book after Dean finished with them was up to them, but he laid a solid groundwork. You, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to take out your hostility on him as soon as he slipped. You, Nate, are a scoundrel.

NATE (Standing): I tell you what. I am going to do you a favor right now, just to show you you’re wrong. You couldn’t pay anyone for this kind of advice. I have it on good authority from my wife, who works downtown and has connections with everybody, that you’re about to be transferred out of here. 

STAN: What?

NATE: You heard me. For years now you’ve been thinking downtown cares about the job you’re doing at the shelter, how many men you’re counseling and putting into rehab and sending out to churches and clinics and so forth. Well, for your information they’re interested in none of that anymore. They’re only interested in the bottom line. And within the next three months you, a social worker, are going to be replaced by a grant proposal writer who knows how to solicit private and government benefits to keep this place going. You can kiss goodbye your little kingdom of Gentle House, Stan. 

STAN: But we just got air conditioning!

NATE: I’m only reporting what I’ve heard. The AC will be your last hoorah. If I were you, I’d forget these social outcasts and brush up on your grant proposals. That is, if you care to compete. But I’ve heard it’s already too late for you. The new director of Gentle House has already received notice. I even know who it is. A lady!      

STAN: So you’ve got it in for me too? Just answer me this. Is it all to satisfy your sense of personal wrong? As petty as that?

NATE (Pausing at the door): I’d put it differently.

STAN: How would you put it?

NATE: I hate that bastard Dean. Not only for how he treats me, but for how he treats everyone. 

STAN: Not me! Not me!

NATE: As for you, you’re merely ridiculous. 

STAN: You’re fired, effective now. Does that strike you as ridiculous?

NATE: You can’t fire me. The union arbitrator is going to have a field day with you. Of course I may decide to quit. I can get another job to complete my social security quarters, maybe at Hamburger Don’s. I know the assistant manager. (Exiting) I need air.

STAN: I knew it! A scoundrel!    

CURTAIN