CATES

You know why I did it. I had the book in my hand, Hunter’s Civic Biology. I opened it up, and read my sophomore science class Chapter 17, Darwin’s Origin of Species. (RACHEL starts to protest) All it says is that man wasn’t just stuck here like a geranium in a flower pot; that living comes from a long miracle, it didn’t just happen in seven days.

RACHEL

There’s a law against it.

CATES

I know that.

RACHEL

Everybody says what you did is bad.

CATES

It isn’t as simple as that. Good or bad, black or white, night or day. Do you know, at the top of the world the twilight is six months long?

RACHEL

But we don’t live at the top of the world. We live in Hillsboro, and when the sun goes down, it’s dark. And why do you try to make it different? (RACHEL gets the shirt, tie, and handkerchiefs from the suitcase) Here.

CATES

Thanks, Rache.

RACHEL

Why can’t you be on the right side of things?

CATES

Your father’s side. (RACHEL starts to leave. CATES runs after her) Rache—love me!

(They embrace. MEEKER enters with a long-handled broom.)

MEEKER

(Clears his throat)

I gotta sweep.

(RACHEL breaks away and hurries off.)

CATES

(Calling)

Thanks for the shirt!

(MEEKER, who has been sweeping impassively now stops and leans on the broom.)

MEEKER

Imagine. Matthew Harrison Brady, comin’ here. I voted for him for President. Twice. In nineteen hundred, and again in oh-eight. Wasn’t old enough to vote for him the first time he ran. But my pa did. (Turns proudly to CATES) I seen him once. At a Chautauqua meeting in Chattanooga. (Impressed, remembering) The tent-poles shook! (CATES moves nervously) Who’s gonna be your lawyer, son?

CATES

I don’t know yet. I wrote to that newspaper in Baltimore. They’re sending somebody.

MEEKER

(Resumes sweeping)

He better be loud.

CATES

(Picking up the shirt)

You want me to go back down?

MEEKER

No need. You can stay up here if you want.

CATES

(Going toward the jail)

I’m supposed to be in jail; I’d better be in jail!

(MEEKER shrugs and follows CATES off. The lights fade in the courtroom area, and come up on the town: morning of a hot July day. The STOREKEEPER enters, unlocking his store. MRS. KREBS saunters across the square.)

STOREKEEPER

Warm enough for you, Mrs. Krebs?

MRS. KREBS

The Good Lord guv us the heat, and the Good Lord guv us the glands to sweat with.

STOREKEEPER

I bet the Devil ain’t so obliging.

MRS. KREBS

Don’t intend to find out.

(The REVEREND JEREMIAH BROWN, a gaunt, thin-lipped man, strides on. He looks around, scowling.)

STOREKEEPER

Good morning, Reverend.

BROWN

’Morning.

MRS. KREBS

’Morning, Reverend.

BROWN

Mrs. Krebs. (Shouting off) Where’s the banner? Why haven’t you raised the banner?

CORKIN

(Entering, followed by another workman)

Paint didn’t dry ’til jist now.

(They are carrying a rolled-up canvas banner.)

BROWN

See that you have it up before Mr. Brady arrives.