Dorothea is at work in City Hall. The group has tasked her with planting the bugs in the mayor’s office. Ralph Watkins with Dorothea to serve as a distraction. Dorothea is carrying a binder as she and Ralph Watkins walk down the hall towards the Mayor’s Office.
DOROTHEA: This better work, Ralph Watkins. I could lose my job over this!
RALPH WATKINS: It will work. Besides, it’s more than your job at stake here. Think on that.
DOROTHEA: Think on the fact that if I’m fired we no longer have an inside woman.
RALPH WATKINS: True.
They approach a door that reads: Mayor’s Office.
DOROTHEA: Are you ready?
RALPH WATKINS: Don’t worry this will work. Don’t nobody want a black man dying in their office.
DOROTHEA: Does anybody want anyone dying in their office?
RALPH WATKINS: Good point.
DOROTHEA pushes the door open: Good morning Margaret! Speaking to the young woman seated at the receptionist’s desk. This is Ral . . .Riley Wallace. He’s a concerned citizen that would like to speak with the Mayor.
MARGARET Hmm. Riley. Riley.
RALPH WATKINS: I should have an appointment, ma’am.
MARGARET: It’s not that. I’m trying to figure out if your name is racially ambiguous enough or if I need to send you down to 1B for a name change.
RALPH WATKINS: What? I’m not changing . . .
DOROTHEA elbowing Ralph Watkins: There are many gentlemen his age with that name.
RALPH WATKINS: Gentlemen my age? What do you mean my . . .? Dorothea elbows him again.
MARGARET: My apologies sir. Of course, that was a more common name back then. If it helps, I had to change my name from Margot to Margaret. Seemed like such a small difference but no one knows of any non-white Margots.
RALPH WATKINS under his breath: Or Margaret’s for that matter.
MARGARET: Any-hoo, have a seat, sir. The Mayor is in a meeting but should return within 15 minutes. Would you like a cookie? Motions to a platter of cookies sitting on a counter to the right of the receptionist desk. They’re homemade by our local award-winning baker, Ms. Lund.
RALPH WATKINS smirking: Sure, can I have two?
MARGARET: Certainly, sir. Dorothea where are you going?
DOROTHEA walking towards the Mayor’s private office: Oh, I was told to leave this report on the Mayor’s desk. Waves binder.
Margaret signaling for Dorothea to come back: I can take it.
DOROTHEA: But I was told . . .
The receptionist’s desk phone rings.
MARGARET answering the phone: Hello, Mayor’s office.
MARGARET: No, the Mayor is not interested in joining your book club. . .How do I know? The Mayor has a busy schedule. . . The club could help the Mayor relax? Now see here, in Clayburn, we don’t allow our mayors to relax. Nods to Dorothea to go into the Mayor’s office. What did you say your name was again?
Dorothea swiftly walks to the Mayor’s office and closes the door behind her.
MARGARET: I see. I see. So, you don’t want to give me your name? How am I supposed to tell the Mayor that you called? I see. If you don’t want to give me your name, that’s fine, but then this conversation’s over. Have a nice day! Hangs up the phone.
MARGARET: What could be taking Dorothea so long? Rises from her chair.
RALPH WATKINS falls to the ground clutching his chest: Oh! My chest is tight. I . . .
MARGARET rushing to Ralph Watkins, she kneels beside him: Sir! Are you alright? Sir!
RALPH WATKINS: I’m weak! I’m weak!
MARGARET: Hang on Sir! I’ll go get help!
RALPH WATKINS clutching Margaret’s hand: Don’t leave me!
MARGARET: But, sir . . .
RALPH WATKINS: Please!
MARGARET looking around: Dorothea! Dorothea! Get out here! This man needs help.
RALPH WATKINS: Yes, Dorothea! Get out here! It shouldn’t take that long to plant . . . I mean, I’m dying! Clutches his chest again and groans.
DOROTHEA rushing out of the Mayor’s office: Margaret! What’s happening? Can’t you see this man needs help?
RALPH WATKINS: I’m fading fast! It’s so cold.
DOROTHEA: Margaret! Don’t just stand there! Go get help!
MARGARET: But . . .
DOROTHEA: Go!
Margaret rushes out of the room.
Ralph Watkins and Dorothea collapse the ground laughing.
DOROTHEA: Ralph Watkins you old fool! What was all that “I’m weak and I’m fading fast” stuff?
RALPH WATKINS sitting up: That was the most fun I’ve had in decades. But, what took you so long? It should only have taken a couple of minutes to plant those things.
DOROTHEA: I decided to do a little digging and I found this! Holds up what appears to be a bank statement.
RALPH WATKINS takes the document from Dorothea: A bank statement for the Mayor’s checking account? Who cares about the Mayor’s personal finances?
DOROTHEA: No one cares about the finances themselves but what about where the Mayor is getting them from? Points to a line item on the statement.
RALPH WATKINS: Oh, this is good. This is real good.
DOROTHEA: I know. Now, let’s get out of here before Margaret comes back.
Ralph Watkins snatches another cookie before they leave the office.
Author’s note: My thoughts when it comes to big corporations claiming to stand in the solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement? I say follow the money. Only time will tell if these are simply nice words or if there is true commitment and action behind them. And unfortunately, in our society, true commitment and action often cost money.
The World We Live In Now 