Leaving Rhode Island: Hope

(A law office.  JESSE is sitting, waiting for somebody.  WILL enters and sits down across from JESSE.  WILL is in jeans and a t-shirt.)

WILL:  Sorry for keeping you waiting, Mr. Williams.

JESSE:  (Noticing WILL’s attire.)  I’m sorry.  You’re not a lawyer, are you?

WILL:  (Looking down at his outfit.  Laughs to himself.)  Sorry—a lot of sorry’s here today, huh?

JESSE:  Sorry, I—

WILL:  No, I’m sorry.  Sorry for pointing out the ‘sorry’s.  I’m actually not the lawyer you were supposed to be speaking to, but that guy called in sick.  So they called in me—on my day off—and yes, this is my day off attire, and no, I didn’t think about putting on a suit before I came here.

JESSE:  Because I’m not worth it?

WILL:  Because I didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer.

            (A moment.)

JESSE:  Sor—thank you.

WILL:  You’re welcome.  You have no case.

JESSE:  Excuse me?

WILL:  You and the other Exiles want to sue the state of Rhode Island for kicking you out.  You have no case.  Sor—my apologies, I guess I could have told you that over the phone, but I figured you might have some—

JESSE:  (Simultaneous.)  I have a case.

WILL:  (Simultaneous.)  --Questions.

            (A beat.)

Well, this is awkward.

JESSE:  What the state did was incredibly illegal.

WILL:  Illegal doesn’t really need an adjective.  Things are either illegal or they’re aren’t.  Except in New Jersey.  In New Jersey, you need an adjective.

JESSE:  You should be jumping at the chance to sue.

WILL:  Don’t you think if you could have sued, firms would have been chasing all of you down five years ago?  Don’t you think there was a reason that they weren’t?

JESSE:  But things are different now.

WILL:  How so?

JESSE:  The letters.  Saying we can come back.  That’s basically the state admitting they were wrong.

WILL:  That’s not what it is at all.  Not even close.

JESSE:  Of course it—

WILL:  I’ve seen the letter.  It’s very well-worded.  Very technical.  It doesn’t admit to anything.  It just says you can go back if you want to go back.  And since you’re here, I’m assuming you’ve decided to take them up on their offer.

JESSE:  I’m here because…Because I figured a Rhode Island firm would—

WILL:  You can hire any firm you want.  You’re not getting a dime from the state.

JESSE:  So you’re saying what they did was right?

WILL:  Was it right?  No.  Was it legal?  Yes.  You know why?  Because if the United States Congress passed a law tomorrow saying that blue is green and green is blue, blue would still be blue and green would still be green, but legally blue would be green and green would be blue, do you understand what I’m saying, Mr. Williams?

JESSE:  So was there a law?  Did somebody pass a law saying that they could just kick people out of their home for no reason?

WILL:  No, because that kind of a law would be challenged and probably struck down.  So instead, they just went ahead and did it, then they passed a law saying they could do it, except they passed the law at midnight, in secret, as a very small part of a much bigger law that has nothing to do with exiling people.  That’s government for you.  That’s why you can’t sue.

JESSE:  Somebody should have stopped them.

WILL:  The only people who could have stopped them would have been the federal government, and, in case you haven’t noticed, the feds don’t like getting involved with the states.  Plus, somebody at the state house was nice enough to call the Department of Justice and explain why they did what they did, and the DOJ agreed not to interfere.  So you’re on your own.

JESSE:  What was the reason?

WILL:  That’s—

JESSE:  And how would you know it?  How would you know and nobody else knows?  We’ve all been begging for any scrap of information and you—

WILL:  Let’s not play make believe, okay?  Why are you here?

JESSE:  What?

WILL:  Are you or are you not here because my last name is Bailey?

            (A moment.)

JESSE:  I didn’t know you were going to be the one I was—

WILL:  No, you didn’t, but I knew eventually it would come to that, so I decided to cut to the chase.  That’s why I told Foster to take a sick day.

JESSE:  You—

WILL:  Yes, I’m the Governor’s son, and yes, I know why you were exiled.  But I have to warn you, Mr. Williams.  You’re not going to like the reason.  You’re going to think it’s idiotic.  I thought it was idiotic until I saw that it worked.  Not only worked, but is, currently, work-ing.

JESSE:  What’s working?

WILL:  The Rhode Island state flag has the word ‘Hope’ on it, Mr. Williams.  And yet, five years ago—no hope.  And nothing seemed to be able to change that.  Even with the promise of reform and economic growth and new administrations, nothing could move that little arrow from Despair into Hope.  And then…a bunch of very smart men and women sat down in a room and decided that something big had to happen to move that arrow.  Something unorthodox.  Something…a little insane.  Because, you see, kids born into this state are given a mantra, from the day they learn to speak to the day they die, and that’s—Leave Rhode Island.  Leave Rhode Island and all your problems will be solved.  This place sucks.  The economy sucks.  Housing sucks.  Education sucks.  Other places are bigger and better and if you just go to any one of them, you’ll be happier and healthier and the pastures will bounce beneath your feet like green, fluffy pillows.  There had to be a paradigm shift.  A new way of looking at things.

JESSE:  So you exile people?  How was that going to help?

WILL:  Human psychology makes no sense, Mr. Williams, but if you’re smart, you have it work in your favor.

JESSE:  I don’t understand.

WILL:  Why do people only want to go to clubs they can’t get into?  Why people fall in love with people that don’t love them back?  Why do we crave a table at a restaurant with a six-month waiting list?  Hm?

            (A slight pause.)

Because the rejections intrigues us.  It attracts us.  The exclusivity—it’s practically an aphrodisiac.

JESSE:  What are you saying?

WILL:  I’m saying in the past five years, business has grown—exponentially.  Without having to offer tax breaks or incentives.  It’s just grown—and it keeps growing.  I’m saying population has grown up—and not just population, but key demographics—young professionals, families—I’m saying students are graduating from college and they’re not.  Going.  Anywhere.  I’m saying kicking all of you out was the best thing this state ever did.  We may have spent a year being the most hated state in the country, but now we’re the coolest, whether people want to admit it or not, whether they want to admit the reason for it or not, we have shifted the paradigm, we have moved that little arrow.  It worked.

JESSE:  Are you insane?  You’re telling me that making people feel unsafe, unstable—making them think that at any moment they could lose everything they’ve worked for their whole lives—is somehow attractive to them?

WILL:  What can I say, Mr. Williams?  There are a lot more gamblers out there than you think.  So yes, housing is still shit, but rentals are up—way up.  Most of the leases in the state are now month-to-month, and one of the first questions you ask on a first date now is—So if your partner was exiled, would you go with them?  But other than that—we’re thriving.

JESSE:  At the cost of ruining the lives of—

WILL:  Consider it a noble sacrifice.

JESSE:  I don’t believe any of this.

WILL:  Give it another year or so, they’ll publish statistics.  They probably already have them.  The Exile turned all of Rhode Island into Studio 54, and the line to get into this state—the line to date the pretty girl who doesn’t seem interested in you and could dump you at any moment?—it’s out the door and around the corner.

            (A moment.)

JESSE:  I thought it was my fault.  I thought…God, this is crazy, but…I thought they knew that I hated it here.  I thought they, like, tapped our phones or something, and the people who hated it here got kicked out because…I don’t know.  But I thought it was my fault.  I really did.

WILL:  No.  It was totally random.  I’m sure some of the people who got kicked out really liked it here.  That’s the cruel part of it.

JESSE:  I don’t know what to do—honestly.  Come back or…keep doing what I’ve been doing.  This thing, it—derailed my life.

WILL:  My mother died in a car accident when I was four.  I had a cancer scare last year.  The cancer scare caused the person I was seeing at the time to move out one morning without telling me.  Derailments—all of them.  Yours came in an envelope.  That’s the only difference.  Not to minimize your pain or anything, but…yeah, get over it.

JESSE:  Get over it?  Seriously?

WILL:  Yes, seriously.  Whatever you’ve been doing for the past five years is a lot better than what you would have been doing if you hadn’t gotten that letter.  Standing around complaining about your life and blaming it all on where you live.  I mean, it’s gotta be better than that, right?  It’d have to be.

            (A moment.)

JESSE:  Please don’t take away how angry I am, okay?  It’s—it’s the only thing I have left.  You can be all philosophical and statistical and tell me about sacrifice, but really, all I want to be is angry.  So please—don’t try to reason me out of it.  Just let me be mad.  Okay?

WILL:  Okay.

            (Slight pause.)

But I guess my question is—once you’re done being mad, then what?  Huh?

            (A beat.)

Then what?

            (WILL exits.  JESSE sits for a moment.)

JESSE:  Then what…

            (Lights.)