Matthew Funk
Common Cents Excerpt
Three draftees who will never agree.
Two hundred pounds of anonymous gold.
1.5 million Russians coming for them.
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ACT ONE
SCENE TWO
Though darkness remains on the stage, the voices now come from its center.
Tiny clinking noises – metal set carefully atop metal – are heard in a steady
rhythm.
Beneath that sound is the lighter tone of whimpering.
HEIMAT
Do you think that maybe we died? And this is heaven?
LIEB
You’re joking. You best be joking. It’s not funny either way.
The sound of a light bulb screwing into a socket rasps center stage.
HEIMAT
I’m not joking. I guess it’s too hot to be Heaven.
LIEB finishes screwing in the light bulb, which blazes bright from where it hangs in the
center of the cellar ceiling. It illuminates HEIMAT, who sits on the floor with his tunic
and shirt off, MANN, a big, beefy Corporal with extensive bandaging around his bloody
groin who lies on a kitchen table to the left of center stage, and LIEB himself, a lean,
intense man of middle age.
Before HEIMAT is a large pile of thick gold doubloons, which he is counting. LIEB stands
on a crate that’s been shifted under the light bulb and squints up at his achievement
from beneath a helmet with an eye drawn in whitewash on its back.
As LIEB climbs from the crate, the Nazi armband on his left arm is visible.
LIEB
You’re goddamn right it is.
LIEB looks over at MANN with a pained expression. He takes out a rifle clip, slides off
the improvised cover he attached to it, and shakes out a gnarled cigarette.
LIEB
But that’s not funny.
HEIMAT
I said I wasn’t joking.
LIEB lights his cigarette with a trench lighter while HEIMAT goes back to counting.
LIEB
And what does that mean?
HEIMAT doesn’t respond for a moment. He places his hand atop the pile of gold and
grimaces.
HEIMAT
Do you think anyone made it out alive today?
LIEB
(pained)
Us. That’s it.
HEIMAT picks up and puts down a coin with each line he speaks.
HEIMAT
That’s it, hmm? We shouldn’t be expecting anyone
else then? We shouldn’t be looking?
LIEB
That’s it.
MANN lists on the table slightly. His face contorts in grief.
MANN
Sasha. Sasha, no, please, no, no. Sasha, please.
HEIMAT
I thought maybe… Maybe Witt. Or Lorenzo…
LIEB looks over at HEIMAT. Anything to look away from MANN.
MANN
(trails off)
Please, don’t, baby. Please, please, baby…
LIEB
Lorenzo burned. He burned with Witt in the truck.
HEIMAT
Yes, in the truck. That’s where I last saw them.
So I thought that maybe they had a chance to jump out
before the bomb hit.
LIEB
No. I ran over to help them out.
(long beat)
I saw them come apart. They fought, but the fire
still took them apart.
MANN
Sasha, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, so God damned sorry.
HEIMAT
I saw the Captain die.
LIEB crouches by HEIMAT, looking closely at him with a commiserating frown.
MANN
So sorry, Sasha. I can’t – I can’t anymore.
LIEB
I know.
HEIMAT
And Grass. He would have died anyway.
LIEB nods.
LIEB
That’s right.
HEIMAT
Do you think he’ll do it?
LIEB
I’d imagine so. He knows what the Russians do
to prisoners, even medics. My pistol’s of more use
to him than to me.
LIEB looks about the basement, but refuses to look at the gold.
LIEB
No offense, but you guys aren’t much of a squad for
me to lead. Not enough that I’d have to use a pistol
instead of a good answer to keep you in line.
HEIMAT nods absently. He scoots aside one stack of gold coins and begins making another.
MANN
It’s gone, Sasha. All gone. We’ve gone with it.
Everything’s gone with it and God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
MANN tries weakly to roll over as he speaks. LIEB watches, and almost rises to stop him,
but notices that MANN doesn’t have to the strength to do more than list from side to
side. He sits back down.
HEIMAT
Rausch. Ebert. Essen. Ziebert. And how about our
Class President? Did Gerber make it out?
LIEB
The kid went when the lieutenant did. They were over in the
far right slit trench just short of the first machinegun position.
You know the one I mean? The “beer trench”?
HEIMAT smiles despite himself. MANN’s coughing, whimpering, trying to turn over
– to feeble to really do any of those things.
HEIMAT
Sure. The Beer Trench. Sure.
LIEB
Sure. They were both there and Gerber was trying to get
the Lieutenant to stop pushing his guts back in.
HEIMAT darkens.
LIEB
Then….
LIEB can’t find the words.
HEIMAT
“Boom”.
LIEB
Yeah. “Boom”.
HEIMAT
Lieb. What was that?
LIEB rocks back on his heels and leans against a crate. He ponders a moment before
responding as HEIMAT counts gold coins under his breath.
LIEB
Jellied gasoline I think it’s called. Burns and sticks.
HEIMAT
No. That’s not what I meant. I meant the attack.
Today. All of it. What was it?
MANN
(whispering)
Sasha? Sasha? Sasha, I can’t – I c-can’t anymore.
LIEB immediately begins looking for the scraps of another cigarette in his makeshift case,
then finds time to shake his head.
LIEB
I don’t know. I’ve never seen or experienced the like.
HEIMAT
Was that what Moscow was like?
LIEB
No, Moscow was cold. Just cold, nothing else.
Too cold even for it to be that loud.
Having dumped out shreds of tobacco, LIEB uses one finger to sweep them into a pile.
LIEB
This…Today was…
They share a pause.
HEIMAT
The end of the world.
LIEB
Yes. Yes, that’s just what it was. The
death of the Gods. The end of the world.
HEIMAT pivots to LIEB, holding up the gold coin he was about to stack.
HEIMAT
And now this.
LIEB glances, but then looks down to focus on the task of pulling a stack of Russian
propaganda leaftlets from his tunic.
LIEB
Artillery alone was five hours. Don’t know how many
times I passed out, woke up, but it must have been
five hours. I did the headcount for Captain Griese, you know.
He looks up at HEIMAT. A sharp look, it passes through the coin as if it wasn’t
there. HEIMAT continues to hold it up until, dejected, he pivots back to continue
stacking.
HEIMAT
No, I didn’t
LIEB
Seventy percent of the company dead by their preparatory barrage
alone. Artillery, wiping out 148 men before they can even
see an enemy soldier.
LIEB tears a long strip from the leaflet and sweeps tobacco onto it.
LIEB
No, I’ve never seen or experienced the like. Neither
has the planet. We’re still both throwing up, passing out,
she and I.
MANN
Sasha, I’m sorry, but see? See, how sorry, how sorry I am?
MANN reaches down to begin pulling weakly at the bandages around his groin. LIEB looks up
from rolling his cigarette.
LIEB
Mann! You stop that right now or I’ll take your hands, I swear!
HEIMAT
Think the front’s gone?
LIEB turns his attention back to rolling and nods.
LIEB
Yeah, I think so. I didn’t hear the bombing or artillery let
up – did you?
HEIMAT
Not once. It was a drumroll the whole way here.
LIEB
So no front, no. No air cover certainly. No relief force.
And hell, we were the reserves. There’s no plugging
the enemy breakthrough. Nothing to plug and nothing to
plug it with.
HEIMAT scoots aside another stack of coins and begins to stack the next without delay.
HEIMAT
Do you think the Reds will catch up with us tonight?
LIEB
If I thought that, we’d still be running. As it is…
LIEB leans back and licks his cigarette sealed. HEIMAT pauses long enough to turn to look
at him.
LIEB
I think we can afford to take the night. We have to, with
Mann in his condition. Fucking miracle he’s still alive.
MANN
I’m sorry, but this is for – for the lives I took. No more life for me.
No more for you, Sasha and Sasha, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
He raises his trench lighter, ignites it, and ceremoniously touches the flame to the
cigarette. He watches the smoke leave his mouth before continuing.
LIEB
Fucking miracle any of us made it here.
HEIMAT
Well. From the looks of this. We’ve gone from one miracle.
To the next.
He taps the gold pile. LIEB stares at him, hard and impartial.
LIEB
Who’s Sasha? I thought his wife’s name was Erika.
HEIMAT goes back to counting.
HEIMAT
Sasha’s that White Russian girl he was with.
LIEB
“Was with”? Do you mean, “was fucking”?
HEIMAT looks over his shoulder reproachfully.
HEIMAT
Was very much in love with from what he’s told me.
She was the one he snuck off on Saint Valentine’s Day
to give the roses to. She came by a couple of times; she
has those thick eyebrows. And when her cat was killed in
that air raid, he—
LIEB is staring right through HEIMAT.
HEIMAT
Really, really loves her, man.
LIEB
(increasingly angry)
That doesn’t change the fact that what he did was wrong.
We didn’t come here to fuck these people or love them
or hold their hands – we came here to liberate them
from a tyrant. That’s it. That’s all. And, yeah, to make this
country a better place, but we do that through roads,
dams and economic reform, Heimat. Not one rose bush
at a time.
HEIMAT
Alright, fine. Fine, he was a monster for loving this
girl; fine, you’ve made your point.
LIEB leans forward, removing his cigarette so that it can smoke in his hand as he
gesticulates at HEIMAT.
LIEB
Look. Life may be about love, but it’s about responsibility to.
Responsibility to one’s nation, one’s friends and one’s family.
One’s family, Heimat. You remember families?
HEIMAT
Love isn’t besides the point here. Lieb, it’s all that matters. In a
fucked up, disfigured place like we’ve been for five years, all that
matters. Being close to someone, being warm, being nice. That’s all!
LIEB shakes his head vigorously.
LIEB
No. Uh-uh. No. Responsibility. Honor. That’s what matters.
When it comes down to it, that’s what gets you up the hill, Heimat.
That’s what allows you to sleep with another human being’s blood
run down your shirt. Not fucking niceness. Duty. Honor.
HEIMAT
So humanity gets locked in the cellar – is that it, Lieb? And
if it ends up starving or dying because there’s no light, well,
it was for it’s own good.
LIEB
Humanity gets sorted out, Heimat. That’s what honor, duty,
responsibility do – they sort humanity and love out. Because
humanity needs divisions and distinctions, Heimat. If
there’s no separation, things get confused – they get snarled up
and strangle themselves to death.
HEIMAT
So no love for Sasha, hmm? Just curfews and armed patrols
and red, white and blue flags, but no love, hmm?
LIEB
No, Heimat. No love. No fucking love, at least not
from German soldiers looking to get rotated home and
especially not when those soldiers have a wife and two girls
waiting for them back there.
HEIMAT turns back to counting.
HEIMAT
You don’t understand, Lieb. You don’t and, and I shouldn’t
bother trying to explain it, but listen anyway. It’s even harder
for a man, a husband, to be without that kind of closeness than
a single man like you. He has it all the time, then suddenly it’s
gone and all he’s got nothing but hell to take to bed with him.
LIEB
Tough. Lots of different people in this world, Heimat. That
means there’s lots of different suffering. You just have to
deal with that pain – to shut it away.
HEIMAT turns to LIEB, coin in hand but ignored now as he gestures pleadingly while
speaking boldly.
HEIMAT
It’s not like that, Lieb! Lines on maps and on genetic charts
don’t actually divide anything but two parts of a piece of paper!
They don’t divide affection, can’t stop need, and won’t prevent
people from needing each other. That’s not the way the
world is – that’s not the war the world works!
LIEB
You’re wrong. That may not be how the world is, but that’s
exactly how it works. Exactly what keeps it from failing. Need
is kept in check by lines, but it isn’t the loving that has to be
checked – it’s the hate. And the line I care most about now is
the one dividing friendly territory from that occupied by the Red
forces. You say Mann’s love for this girl made him cross
the line I say he shouldn’t have? Well, because he crossed
that line, the Communists are going to tear her to pieces
LIEB crushes out his cigarette violently.
LIEB
Rape. Disfigurement. She’ll be known as a “collaborator”
and a “German whore” for as long as she lives. And I’m
thinking that won’t be that long, considering what I’ve seen
the Reds do to children who they suspect so much as smile at us.
They’ll no more accept her back into their Worker’s Paradise
than Mann’s wife would welcome her to the family home in
Dusseldorf, and turn a blind eye to the occasional fucking
Mann might give this kid who’s young enough to be her
daughter because, well, after all – it’s just love, right?
HEIMAT
I don’t think the occasion of him fucking anyone is going
to come anytime soon, considering where he was hit—
MANN
I’m still awake, you know! I’m still listening!
The two others glance over as MANN leans up on one elbow, glaring at them.
MANN
And hearing what either of you say, I can’t help but wonder
why you won’t just fucking shoot me like I’ve asked you!
Beat.
LIEB
Out of the question. We don’t kill our own; not when
they aren’t dying anyway.
LIEB stands.
HEIMAT
Yeah, it’s – it’s not enough to throw away your life, Wolfgang.
MANN
No? Then why do I feel you may as well be counting
the turds on a shitpile, Karl?
LIEB’s already walking to the stairs. He keeps walking as he speaks.
LIEB
I’m off to look into fixing that truck out back. Meanwhile,
you better listen to him, Karl.
HEIMAT
What? You just said though, that we don’t—
LIEB
No matter how many coins you count, the amount we’re
taking with us when we leave is going to be exactly zero.
The bulb fades fast, dies.
All contents copyright © Matthew Funk 2007, all rights reserved.