SETTING: Village street scene; huge oak tree upstage center; a house or two on back drop. When curtain goes up, Sister LUCY TAYLOR is seen standing under the tree. She is painfully spelling it out.
(Enter SISTER THOMAS, a younger woman (In her thirties) at left.)
SISTER THOMAS: Evenin', Sis Taylor.
SISTER TAYLOR: Evenin'. (Returns to the notice)
SISTER THOMAS: Whut you doin'? Readin' dat notice Joe Clark put up 'bout de meeting? (Approaches tree)
SISTER TAYLOR: Is dat whut it says? I ain't much on readin' since I had my teeth pulled out. You know if you pull out dem eye teeth you ruins' yo' eye sight. (Turns back to notice) Whut it say?
SISTER THOMAS: (Reading notice) "The trial of Jim Weston for assault and battery on Dave Carter wid a dangerous weapon will be held at Macedonia Baptist Church on Monday, November 10, at three o'clock. All are welcome. By order of J. Clark, Mayor of Eatonville, Florida." (Turning to SISTER TAYLOR) Hit's makin' on to three now.
SISTER TAYLOR: You mean it's right now. (Looks up at sun to tell time) Lemme go git ready to be at de trial 'cause I'm sho goin' to be there an' I ain't goin' to bite my tongue neither.
SISTER THOMAS: I done went an' crapped a mess of collard greens for supper. I better go put 'em on 'cause Lawd knows when we goin' to git outa there an' my husband is one of them dat's gointer eat don't keer whut happen. I bet if judgment day was to happen tomorrow he'd speck I orter fix him a bucket to carry long. (She moves to exit, right)
SISTER TAYLOR: All men favors they guts, chile. But what you think of all dis mess they got goin' on round here?
SISTER THOMAS: I just think it's a sin an' a shame befo' de livin' justice de way dese Baptis' niggers is runnin' round here carryin' on.
SISTER TAYLOR: Oh, they been puttin' out the brags ever since Sat'day night 'bout whut they gointer do to Jim. They thinks they runs this town. They tell me Rev. CHILDERS preached a sermon on it yistiddy.
SISTER THOMAS: Lawd help us! He can't preach an' he look like 10 cents worth of have-mercy let lone gittin' up dere tryin' to throw slams at us. Now all Elder Simms done wuz to explain to us our rights … whut you think 'bout Joe Clarke runnin' round here takin' up for these ole Baptist niggers?
SISTER TAYLOR: De puzzle-gut rascal … we oughter have him up in conference an' put him out de Methdis' faith. He don't b'long in there—wanter tun dat boy outa town for nothin'.
SISTER THOMAS: But we all know how come he so hot to law Jim outa town—hit's to dig de foundation out from under Elder Simms.
SISTER TAYLOR: Whut he wants do dat for?
SISTER THOMAS: 'Cause he wants to be a God-know-it-all an' a God-do-it-all an' Simms is de onliest one in this town whut will buck up to him.
(Enter SISTER JONES, walking leisurely)
SISTER JONES: Hello, Hoyt, hello, Lucy.
SISTER TAYLOR: Goin' to de meetin'?
SISTER JONES: Done got my clothes on de line an' I'm bound to be dere.
SISTER THOMAS: Gointer testify for Jim?
SISTER JONES: Naw, I reckon—don't make such difference to me which way de drop fall…. 'Tain't neither one of 'em much good.
SISTER TAYLOR: I know it. I know it, Ida. But dat ain't de point. De crow we wants to pick is: Is we gointer set still an' let dese Baptist tell us when to plant an' when to pluck up?
SISTER JONES: Dat is something to think about when you come to think 'bout it. (Starts to move on) Guess I better go ahead—see y'all later an tell you straighter.
(Enter ELDER SIMMS, right, walking fast, Bible under his arm, almost collides with SISTER JONES as she exits.)
SIMMS: Oh, 'scuse me, Sister Jones. (She nods and smiles and exits.) How you do, Sister Taylor, Sister Thomas.
BOTH: Good evenin', Elder.
SIMMS: Sho is a hot day.
SISTER TAYLOR: Yeah, de bear is walkin' de earth lak a natural man.
SISTER THOMAS: Reverend, look like you headed de wrong way. It's almost time for de trial an' youse all de dependence we got.
SIMMS: I know it. I'm tryin' to find de marshall so we kin go after Jim. I wants a chance to talk wid him a minute before court sets. SISTER TAYLOR: Y'think he'll come clear?
SIMMS: (Proudly) I know it! (Shakes the Bible) I'm goin' to law 'em from Genesis to Revelation.
SISTER THOMAS: Give it to 'em, Elder. Wear 'em out!
SIMMS: We'se liable to havea new Mayor when all dis dust settle. Well, I better scuffle on down de road. (Exits, left.) SISTER THOMAS: Lord, lemme gwan home an' put dese greens on. (Looks off stage left) Here come Mayor Clark now, wid his belly settin' out in front of him like a cow catcher! His name oughter be Mayor Belly.
SISTER TAYLOR: (Arms akimbo) Jus' look at him! Tryin' to look like a jigadier Breneral.
(Enter CLARK hot and perspiring. They look at him coldly.)
CLARK: I God, de bear got me! (Silence for a moment) How y'all feelin', ladies?
SISTER TAYLOR: Brother Mayor, I ain't one of these folks dat bite my tongue an' bust my gall—whut's inside got to come out! I can't see to my rest why you cloakin' in wid dese Baptist buzzards 'ginst yo' own church.
MAYOR CLARK: I ain't cloakin' in wid none. I'm de Mayor of dis whole town I stands for de right an' ginst de wrong—I don't keer who it kill or cure.
SISTER THOMAS: You think it's right to be runnin' dat boy off for nothin'?
CLARK: I God! You call knockin' a man in de head wid a mule bone nothin'? 'Nother thin; I done missed nine of my best-layin' hens. I ain't sayin' Jim got 'em, but different people has tole me he burries a powerful lot of feathers in his back yard. I God, I'm a ruint man! (He starts towards the right exit, but LUM BOGER enters right.) I God, Lum, I been lookin' for you all day. It's almost three o'clock. (Hands him a key from his ring) Take dis key an' go fetch Jim Weston on to de church.
LUM: Have you got yo' gavel from de lodge-room?
CLARK: I God, that's right, Lum. I'll go get it from de lodge room whilst you go git de bone an' de prisoner. Hurry up! You walk like dead lice droppin' off you. (He exits right while LUM crosses stage towards left.)
SISTER TAYLOR: Lum, Elder Simms been huntin' you—he's gone on down 'bout de barn. (She gestures)
LUM BOGER: I reckon I'll overtake him. (Exit left.)
SISTER THOMAS: I better go put dese greens on. My husband will kill me if he don't find no supper ready. Here come Mrs. Blunt. She oughter feel like a penny's worth of have-mercy wid all dis stink behind her daughter.
SISTER TAYLOR: Chile, some folks don't keer. They don't raise they chillun; they drags 'em up. God knows if dat Daisy wuz mine, I'd throw her down an' put a hundred lashes on her back wid a plow-line. Here she come in de store Sat'day night (Acts coy and coquettish, burlesques DAISY'S walk) a wringing and a twisting!
(Enter MRS. BLUNT, left.)
MRS. BLUNT: How y'all sisters?
SISTER THOMAS: Very well, Miz Blunt, how you?
MRS. BLUNT: Oh, so-so.
MRS. TAYLOR: I'm kickin', but not high.
MRS. BLUNT: Well, thank God you still on prayin' ground an' in a Bible country. Me, I ain't so many today. De niggers got my Daisy's name all mixed up in dis mess.
MRS. TAYLOR: You musn't mind dat, Sister Blunt. People jus' will talk. They's talkin' in New York an' they's talkin' in Georgy an' they's talkin' in Italy.
SISTER THOMAS: Chile, if you talk folkses talk, they'll have you in de graveyard or in Chattahoochee one. You can't pay no 'tention to talk.
MRS. BLUNT: Well, I know one thing. De man or women, chick or child, grizzly or gray, that tells me to my face anything wrong 'bout my chile, I'm goin' to take my fist (Rolls up right sleeve and gestures with right fist) and knock they teeth down they throat. (She looks ferocious) 'Case y'all know I raised my Daisy right round my feet till I let her go up north last year wid them white folks. I'd ruther her to be in de white folks' kitchen than walkin' de streets like some of dese girls round here. If I do say so, I done raised a lady. She can't help it if all dese mens get stuck on her.
MRS. TAYLOR: You'se tellin' de truth, Sister Blunt. That's whut I always say: Don't confidence dese niggers. Do, they'll sho put you in de street.
MRS. THOMAS: Naw indeed, never syndicate wid niggers. Do, they will distriminate you. They'll be an anybody. You goin' to de trial, ain't you?
MRS. BLUNT: Just as sho as you snore. An' they better leave Daisy's name outa dis, too. I done told her and told her to come straight home from her work. Naw, she had to stop by dat store and skin her gums back wid dem trashy niggers. She better not leave them white folks today to come traipsin' over here scornin' her name all up wid dis nigger mess. Do, I'll kill her. No daughter of mine ain't goin' to do as she please, long as she live under de sound of my voice. (She crosses to right.)
MRS. THOMAS: That's right, Sister Blunt. I glory in yo' spunk. Lord, I better go put on my supper.
(As MRS. BLUNT exits, right, REV. CHILDERS enters left with DAVE and DEACON LINDSAY and SISTER LEWIS. Very hostile glances from SISTERS THOMAS and TAYLOR toward the others.)
CHILDERS: Good evenin', folks.
(SISTERS THOMAS and TAYLOR just grunt. MRS. THOMAS moves a step or two towards exit. Flirts her skirts and exits.)
LINDSAY: (Angrily) Whut's de matter, y'all? Cat got yo' tongue?
MRS. TAYLOR: More matter than you kin scatter all over Cincinnatti.
LINDSAY: Go 'head on, Lucy Taylor. Go 'head on. You know a very little of yo' sugar sweetens my coffee. Go 'head on. Everytime you lift yo' arm you smell like a nest of yellow hammers.
MRS. TAYLOR: Go 'head on yo'self. Yo' head look like it done wore out three bodies. Talkin' 'bout me smellin'—you smell lak a nest of grand daddies yo'self.
LINDSAY: Aw rock on down de road, 'oman. Ah, don't wantuh change words wid yuh. Youse too ugly.
MRS. TAYLOR: You ain't nobody's pretty baby, yo'self. You so ugly I betcha yo' wife have to spread uh sheet over yo' head tuh let sleep slip up on yuh.
LINDSAY: (Threatening) You better git way from me while you able. I done tole you I don't wanter break a breath wid you. It's uh whole heap better tuh walk off on yo' own legs than it is to be toted off. I'm tired of yo' achin' round here. You fool wid me now an' I'll knock you into doll rags, Tony or no Tony.
MRS. TAYLOR: (Jumping up in his face) Hit me? Hit me! I dare you tuh hit me. If you take dat dare, you'll steal uh hawg an' eat his hair.
LINDSAY: Lemme gwan down to dat church befo' you make me stomp you. (He exits, right.)
MRS. TAYLOR: You mean you'll git stomped. Ah'm goin' to de trial, too. De nex trial gointer be me for kickin' some uh you Baptist niggers around.
(A great noise is heard off stage left. The angry and jeering voices of children. MRS. TAYLOR looks off left and takes a step or two towards left exit as the noise comes nearer.)
VOICE OF ONE CHILD: Tell her! Tell her! Turn her up and smell her. Yo' mama ain't got nothin' to do wid me.
MRS. TAYLOR: (Hollering off left) You lil Baptis' haitians leave them chillun alone. If you don't, you better!
(Enter about ten children struggling and wrestling in a bunch. MRS. TAYLOR looks about on the ground for a stick to strike the children with.)
VOICE OF CHILD: Hey! Hey! He's skeered tuh knock it off. Coward!
MRS. TAYLOR: If y'all don't git on home!
SASSY LITTLE GIRL: (Standing akimbo) I know you better not touch me, do my mama will 'tend to you.
MRS. TAYLOR: (Making as if to strike her.) Shet up you nasty lil heifer, sassin' me! You ain't half raised.
(The little girl shakes herself at MRS. TAYLOR and is joined by two or three others.)
MRS. TAYLOR: (Walkin' towards right exit.) I'm goin' on down to de church an' tell yo' mammy. But she ain't been half raised herself. (She exits right with several children making faces behind her.)
ONE BOY: (To sassy GIRL) Aw, haw! Y'all ol' Baptis' ain't got no bookcase in yo' chuch. We went there one day an' I saw uh soda cracker box settin' up in de corner so I set down on it. (Pointing at sassy GIRL) Know what ole Mary Ella say? (Jeering laughter) Willie, you git up off our library! Haw! Haw!
MARY ELLA: Y'all ole Meth'dis' ain't got no window panes in yo' ole church.
ANOTHER GIRL: (Takes center of stand, hands akimbo and shakes her hips) I don't keer whut y'all say, I'm a Meth'dis' bred an' uh Meth'dis' born an' when I'm dead there'll be uh Meth'dis' gone.
MARY ELLA: (Snaps fingers under other girl's nose and starts singing. Several join her.)
Oh Baptis', Baptis' is my name My name's written on high I got my lick in de Baptis' church Gointer eat up de Meth'dis' pie. (The Methodist children jeer and make faces. The Baptist camp make faces back; for a full minute there is silence while each camp tries to outdo the other in face making. The Baptist makes the last face.)
METHODIST BOY: Come on, less us don't notice 'em. Less gwan down to de church an' hear de trial.
MARY ELLA: Y'all ain't de onliest ones kin go. We goin', too.
WILLIE: Aw, haw! Copy cats! (Makes face) Dat's right. Follow on behind us lak uh puppy dog tail. (They start walking toward right exit, switching their clothes behind.) Dat's right. Follow on behind us lak uh puppy dog tail. (They start walking toward right exit, switching their clothes behind.)
(Baptist children stage a rush and struggle to get in front of the Methodists. They finally succeed in flinging some of the Methodist children to the ground and some behind them and walk towards right exit haughtily switching their clothes.)
WILLIE: (Whispers to his crowd) Less go round by Mosely's lot an' beat 'em there!
OTHERS: All right!
WILLIE: (Yellin' to Baptists) We wouldn't walk behind no ole Baptists!
(The Methodists turn and walk off towards left exit, switching their clothes as the Baptists are doing.)
SLOW CURTAIN
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