Riot Read online

  [To Jackie Monahan O’Brien]

  [Contents]

  I. Cast of Characters

  II. Screenplay

  III. Time Line

  IV. Author’s Note

  V. Period Photos, llustrations, and Map

  [CAST OF CHARACTERS]

  CLAIRE JOHNSON, 15, very pretty

  PRISCILLA SKINNER, 15, her friend, dark skin, pretty

  ELLEN JOHNSON, 37, her mother

  ROBERT VAN VORST, 15, her friend, slightly overweight but handsome

  LIAM, 17, an employee of the Johnsons’

  MAEVE, 16, Liam’s fiancée

  DENNIS RILEY, 17, member of the Dead Rabbits gang

  TOMMY ENRIGHT, 19, member of the Dead Rabbits gang

  BILLY EVANS, 12

  OFFICER MCCLUSKER, 26, police officer

  OFFICER BARNES, 29, police officer

  JOHN ANDREWS, 41, a Southerner

  JOHN JOHNSON, 40, Claire’s father

  ROSIE LYONS, 14, a friend of Maeve’s

  WALT WHITMAN, 44, poet

  FARLEY, 11, Whitman’s servant

  PRIVATE KELLY, 25, Union soldier

  PRIVATE PARKER, 24, Union soldier

  PRIVATE JOSHUA LANCASTER, 17, Union soldier

  GRIFFIN, 15

  CHARLES HICKEY, 28, police officer

  KELLY, 19

  MARY POOLE, 15

  JOHNNY, 15

  CAPTAIN ROBERTS, 32, Union army officer

  MARGARET ADDAMS, 32, Matron of the Colored Orphan asylum

  CAITLIN DONAHUE, 16

  THE REVEREND CURRY, 46, pastor of a Baptist Church

  [FADE IN]

  EXT. NEW YORK CITY—JULY, PRESENT DAY

  AERIAL SHOT. As the camera zooms in, we see the city below, with its skyscrapers jutting boldly into the sky high above the street-level chaos. As the camera comes closer, we see the blur of vehicles in the city streets.

  The camera comes even lower, and we see rapidly moving traffic. The streets of Lower Manhattan are glutted with cars. We see pedestrians darting in between the cars and hear the blare of a hip-hop recording that matches the frantic pace of the traffic.

  The camera zooms in even farther and focuses on a YOUNG WOMAN eating lunch on the white steps of a building. She is on her cell phone as the camera begins to zoom out, and we see the city as a rich mosaic of colors, which turns into an urban gray blur. The blur lasts for a few seconds.

  EXT. NEW YORK CITY—MAY 1954

  AERIAL SHOT, then zoom in. This time the buildings are not as stark, the traffic in the streets not quite so frantic. The cars are older. The camera focuses on a MAN eating lunch on a park bench. The newspaper he is reading has a headline about the Supreme Court’s decision in Brown v. the Topeka Board of Education. We see the date: it is 1954.

  A YOUNG WHITE COUPLE is sitting down not far from the MAN reading the paper. The young man puts his hand on her knee, and she pushes it quickly away. We see her stand and start to walk away as the camera begins to zoom out. She turns to see if he is following as the shot becomes more distant and blurs.

  EXT. NEW YORK CITY—JULY 1900

  AERIAL SHOT, then zoom in again. The streets of Lower Manhattan are still clogged, but this time with horse-drawn carriages. Men in bowler hats chat amiably on one corner. On another corner two NEWSBOYS, one white and one black, fight as other boys cheer them on. The camera focuses on a YOUNG WHITE MAN reading an illustrated paper as he leans against a lamppost.

  The camera pans away from the YOUNG MAN and onto a crowded street on which we see pushcarts and Jewish vendors. Here we see a YOUNG BLACK GIRL feeding bread crumbs to pigeons. She tries to shoo away a larger pigeon. It refuses to move, and she stamps her foot, sending the small covey of birds into the air as the camera zooms out again to a blurred view of the area.

  EXT. NEW YORK CITY—JULY 11, 1863

  AERIAL SHOT, then the sound of music rises as the camera slowly moves in once again. The streets of Lower Manhattan are indistinct but sharpen gradually. We hear the clicking of telegraph keys, and words appear on the screen, moving from right to left:

  July 11, 1863. Generals optimistic after Gettysburg. Losses heavy. Lincoln urged to call up more men.

  Behind the words, we see the streets. There is a brief stop on a row of crudely built wooden dwellings. We see a heavy WOMAN selling fish on the streets and a YOUNG MAN getting a haircut from a sidewalk BARBER.

  The camera pans past several streets, on one of which a number of YOUNG WHITE PEOPLE are arguing. Their dress is poor, the men in patched pants and ill-fitting shirts, the women in shabby long dresses, some with dirty aprons over them. The camera pans past, then stops and returns to the activity for a long moment.

  EXT. FIVE POINTS AREA—SAME DAY (CONTINUOUS)

  FIRST YOUNG WOMAN

  From the way the papers are reading, I thought the bloody war was almost over. What do they need a draft for? Stealing our young men away for nothing.

  SECOND YOUNG WOMAN

  As long as they’re keeping it far away from Henry Street, they can do with it what they want is what I’m saying. The good Lord has his face turned away from the likes of us, and that’s for sure.

  FIRST YOUNG WOMAN

  Johnny McCall was down at the office where the government men pulled the names out of a drum. He said you would have thought they were pulling the names of the first men to waltz their way through the pearly gates, what with all the speeches and the chests sticking out. He said the firemen are hopping mad. Can you imagine the firemen having to leave to fight a war when we need them right here?

  SECOND YOUNG WOMAN

  Well, if I was a man, it would be over me dead body they’d be reaching for their tea! Imagine, poor men leaving their wives and homes to go fight while the rich men pat their bellies and wave them off with their silk hankies!

  FIRST YOUNG WOMAN

  Ay! And you can bet your sweet life on that, too.

  The camera moves on, and we see a NEWSBOY selling a paper to a wounded SOLDIER. The SOLDIER is tall, gaunt. He carries a bundle stuck in his crutch. He looks up toward the camera and then quickly away.

  INT. THE PEACOCK INN—JULY 13, 1863

  The Peacock Inn is a shabby-genteel restaurant-tavern on Bedford Street, run by JOHN and ELLEN JOHNSON, who live upstairs with their daughter, CLAIRE.

  CLAIRE JOHNSON (15) and her best friend, PRISCILLA SKINNER (also 15), are sitting at one of the rectangular tables. They are sewing a quilt.

  CLAIRE is thin and pretty, with skin color light enough to pass for Caucasian. She has soft brown eyes, sharp features, and chestnut-colored hair, which she has combed up until it almost forms a halo around a sweet face. She is wearing a flower-patterned cotton dress and a neat apron.

  PRISCILLA is dark, obviously African American, and is dressed similarly. She is also pretty, with a round face that is quick to smile.

  PRISCILLA

  So, if you were feeling sick, would you let a doctor examine you?

  CLAIRE

  Are you feeling sick?

  PRISCILLA

  No, I was just wondering. What would you do if he asked you to undress?

  CLAIRE

  I’d do it—as long as he had his eyes closed and his hands behind his back and he was at least a hundred and twelve! And you?

  PRISCILLA

  I’d faint dead away, and then he could do whatever he wanted to me.

  CLAIRE

  Priscilla!

  ELLEN JOHNSON (37), CLAIRE’s mother, enters with a mop and bucket. She looks somewhat older than her age but is attractive, and the resemblance between her daughter and her is clear.

  ELLEN

  And what are you girls up to?

  CLAIRE

  Priscilla’s got her squares wrong. I’m straightening them out
for her.

  PRISCILLA

  They aren’t wrong, Mrs. Johnson, just different from what Claire had in mind. You know how bossy she can be.

  ELLEN

  (looking at the quilt)

  So what did you have in mind?

  CLAIRE

  Priscilla was telling me how the slaves make quilts in the South that are really like maps. They have a star and paths that lead to the star.

  ELLEN

  (looking at PRISCILLA)

  Priscilla, you were born in Brooklyn. How do you know about what the poor slaves are doing?

  PRISCILLA

  From my great-aunt Esther. She was born in Virginia. When the man who owned her died, her father ran off north with the whole family.

  ELLEN

  This the old woman who lives uptown in Broadway Alley?

  PRISCILLA

  Yes.

  ELLEN

  Sweet lady, she is. I don’t think the rowdies will get that far uptown.

  ROBERT VAN VORST (15) enters. He is white and slightly overweight but handsome and well dressed, with dark hair combed straight back and a high forehead.

  ELLEN

  Are we having a convention? Everyone’s here!

  ROBERT

  I’ve just been down to the Grand Street draft office, inquiring whether I might apply for a commission. They obviously need good men, and I’m willing to go.

  CLAIRE

  I heard they were rioting near the waterfront.

  ROBERT

  Slackers. They’re actually protesting against the draft! Can you believe it? Father said that there was a police lineup across from the Tribune. They’ve thrown rocks through the windows of the stores along the side streets.

  ELLEN

  It’s not safe to be out and about. John says they were ugly this morning. He said the Dead Rabbits were running around as if they owned the streets.

  ROBERT

  Well, then, the army will just have to deal with gangs like the Dead Rabbits, won’t they? They’re mostly young drunks and old people, anyway. If I were commanding a battalion, I’d send a half dozen of my best men to put down the gangs.

  ELLEN

  Robert, they’re not having fifteen-year-olds commanding battalions.

  PRISCILLA

  I think they could, because you just have to tell the men where to go and what to do.

  CLAIRE

  You think they could because it’s your precious Robert who wants to lead them, Priscilla. Too bad he’s not a doctor.

  PRISCILLA

  Claire Johnson!

  ROBERT

  (full of himself)

  She’s right, of course. Officers lead men and direct them to where they need to go. Like Meade at Gettysburg. Did you read in the Times how his men held their positions against Longstreet?

  PRISCILLA

  What time is it? I have to get to the orphanage.

  CLAIRE

  Robert, you’re not carrying Priscilla’s books today. Do you think it’s really safe? I mean, they’re throwing rocks….

  ROBERT

  I’ll go with her to see she’s safe.

  CLAIRE

  (teasing)

  And don’t forget to put your arm around her if you see any danger, Captain Van Vorst.

  PRISCILLA

  (gathering her reticule)

  Claire!

  CLAIRE

  (serious)

  Both of you keep your eyes open!

  ROBERT and PRISCILLA are at the door of the Peacock.

  PRISCILLA

  Ta-ta, Lady Claire.

  CLAIRE

  Ta-ta, my dear.

  ROBERT and PRISCILLA exit. CLAIRE starts to put away the sewing.

  ELLEN

  Do you think Priscilla’s really sweet on Robert?

  CLAIRE

  She’d marry him tomorrow if she could get him from under his mother’s thumb.

  ELLEN

  A man that’s under his mother’s thumb needs to stay there until he can wiggle out himself.

  CLAIRE

  Priscilla’s ready to give him a tug. She thinks his mother doesn’t want to let him grow up. Like all mothers.

  ELLEN

  Nonsense. I can’t wait until you’ve hopped from the branch and tried your own wings.

  CLAIRE

  And you’re supposed to be teaching me the rest of the song about the black rosebud. Did you forget that?

  ELLEN

  And you have a sweet voice. I’d tell Mum that if she were still alive. It’s the Irish in your heart that makes your voice so sweet. Let’s hear you sing.

  CLAIRE

  (singing)

  The Erne at its highest flood,

  I dashed across unseen,

  For there was lightning in my blood,

  My dark Rosaleen!

  My own Rosaleen!

  Oh, there was lightning in my blood,

  My dark Rosaleen!

  ELLEN

  Oh, and you do have such a sweet voice. If your feet weren’t so big, I could marry you off before the weekend!

  (kisses CLAIRE’s hand)

  CLAIRE

  Ma, why is this girl coming this afternoon?

  ELLEN

  Liam’s friend? Because I can’t do all the cooking and cleaning and everything that’s to be done in this place. You know that, Claire. And your father wants you to continue school. Get something beside daydreams in that pretty head of yours.

  CLAIRE

  Mother, you know what I mean…. If you’re going to hire someone to work in the Peacock, then why not Priscilla? She loves the children in the orphanage, but there’s not a lot for her there.

  ELLEN

  (sits at the table with her daughter)

  The Peacock is quite a lovely business, Claire, and you know it. Your father and I want to buy it one day. We’ve been talking with Mr. Valentine—

  CLAIRE

  I don’t care about Mr. Valentine.

  ELLEN

  Well, I do, and your father does as well. We’re trying to convince him to sell us this place. It has a good reputation—

  CLAIRE

  He’s been letting it run down. We’re giving it back its reputation.

  ELLEN

  And so we are, colleen. This place has been here for a while and people know about it. But he wants it to be a place for a high-class clientele. We don’t want to open some place like the Gallant Frog down the street, do we? Oh, is that ever a hooligan haven.

  CLAIRE

  He means a place for white people?

  ELLEN

  There’s nothing wrong with white people, Claire. And seeing that I am one of them, I’m hoping that you can understand that. We’ll have all kinds of people here if your father and I have anything to do with it.

  CLAIRE

  In two months, this war will be over. Then there won’t be any more slavery and then it won’t matter if any of us are white or black.

  ELLEN

  Did the Good Lord himself tell you that, Claire? Because if He did, I’m very much impressed. The last person I know who heard the Lord talking back to him was your great-uncle, and that was only when he had a few pints in him.

  CLAIRE

  So we can’t hire Priscilla because Mr. Valentine wants white people working here?

  ELLEN

  Your father says that once we get the place going, we can have anyone we want staying here and working here. Do you think your father, a black man, would turn away his own people?

  CLAIRE

  When we do own this place, I’m going to have the fanciest lace curtains you’ve ever seen. And I saw the absolutely perfect chandelier in that shop on Broadway. The moment people walk in the front door, they’ll know they’re in a place of quality. But—and this is important—I’ll have different sets of curtains for different days. Some gleaming white and others just a little off white—maybe ivory—with those little designs that you see in the fancy shops.

  ELLEN


  Is it an inn you’ll be running or a palace?

  CLAIRE

  It’ll be an inn but so fine that people will come to New York just to visit us. And we’ll steal that sour-faced little cook from Fraunces Tavern.

  ELLEN

  You’ve got your dreams neatly lined up, haven’t you?

  CLAIRE

  They’re better dreams than Mr. Valentine will ever have and I’ll thank you for knowing that, I will. And now I’ll be off to fetch the milk for this afternoon’s tea.

  ELLEN

  You’ll be doing no such thing. There’s too much afoot out there. Your father was about this morning and he said it’s not just the roughnecks out there. It’s a mob of people and they’re in an ugly mood. They’ve even torn down some telegraph poles on the East Side, although I don’t see how that does very much for them.

  CLAIRE

  Father said they’re protesting against the draft. They don’t want to fight in the war.

  ELLEN

  Well, neither do I, but you don’t see me tearing down any telegraph poles, do you? All across Fourteenth Street! Of all the foolishness. We’d better all stay in until things grow quiet again. And the talk is that they’re attacking black people in the street.