Mule Bone, Page 6

DAISY: (Wiping DAVE’s shirt front with her handkerchief) Aw, ain’t that too bad.

  JIM: (To DAVE) Well, who’s shirt did I wet? It’s mine, anyhow, ain’t it?

  DAVE: (Belligerently) Well, if it’s your shirt, then you come take it off me. I’m tired of your lip.

  JIM: Well, I will.

  DAVE: Well, put your fist where you lip is. (Pushing DAISY aside.)

  DAISY: (Frightened) I want to go home. Now, don’t you-all boys fight.

  (JIM attempts to come up the steps. DAVE pushes him back and he stumbles and falls in the dust. General excitement as the crowd senses a fight.)

  LITTLE BOY: (On the edge of crowd) Fight, fight, you’re no kin. Kill one another, won’t be no sin. Fight, fight, you’re no kin.

  (JIM jumps up and rushes for DAVE as the latter starts down the steps. DAVE meets him with his fist squarely in the face and causes him to step backward, confused.)

  DAISY: (Still on porch, half crying) Aw, my Lawd! I want to go home.

  (General hubbub, women’s cries of “Don’t let ’em fight.” “Why don’t somebody stop ’em?” “What kind of men is you all, sit there and let them boys fight like that.” Men’s voices urging the fight: “Aw, let ’em fight.” “Go for him, Dave.” “Slug him, Jim.” JIM makes another rush toward the steps. He staggers DAVE, DAVE knocks JIM sprawling once more. This time JIM grabs the mule bone as he rises, rushes DAVE, strikes DAVE over the head with it and knocks him out. DAVE falls prone on his back. There is great excitement.)

  OLD WOMAN: (Screams) Lawdy, is he kilt? (Several men rush to the fallen man.)

  VOICE: Run down to the pump and get a dipper o’ water.

  CLARKE: (To his wife in door) Mattie, come out of that store with a bottle of witch hazely oil quick as you can. Jim Weston, I’m gonna arrest you for this. You Lum Boger. Where is that marshall? Lum Boger! (LUM BOGER detaches himself from the crowd.) Arrest Jim.

  LUM: (Grabs JIM’s arm, relieves him of the mule bone and looks helplessly at the Mayor.) Now I got him arrested, what’s I going to do with him?

  CLARKE: Lock him up back yonder in my barn till Monday when we’ll have the trial in de Baptist Church.

  LINDSAY: Yeah, just like all the rest of them Methodists…always tryin’ to take undercurrents on people.

  WALTER: Ain’t no worse then some of you Baptists, nohow.

  You all don’t run this town. We got jus’ as much to say as you have.

  CLARKE: (Angrily to both men) Shut up! Done had enough arguing in front of my place. (To LUM BOGER) Take that boy on and lock him up in my barn. And save that mule bone for evidence.

  (LUM BOGER leads JIM off toward the back of the store. A crowd follows him. Other men and women are busy applying restoratives to DAVE. DAISY stands alone, unnoticed in the center of the stage.)

  DAISY: (Worriedly) Now, who’s gonna take me home?

  CURTAIN

  Act Two

  Scene I

  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: What you doin? Readin’ dat notice Joe Clarke 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 weepon will be held at Macedonia Baptist Church on Monday, November 10, at three o’clock. All are welcome. By order of J. Clarke, Mayor of Eatonville, Florida.” (Turning to SISTER TAYLOR) Hit’s makin’ on to three now.

  SISTER TAYLOR: You mean it’s right now: (Locks 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 what happen. I bet if judgment day was to happen tomorrow he’d speak 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 en’ 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 shut 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 em’ let lone gittin’ up dere tryin’ to throw slams at us. Now all Elder Simms done wus to explain to us our rights…what 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 wanta 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, Boyt, 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 have a 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 Clarke now, wid his belly settin’ out in front of him like a cow catcher! His name oughter be Mayor Belly.

  SISTER TAYLOR: (Arms skimbo) Jus’ look at him! Tryin’ to look like a jigadier Breneral. (Enter CLARKE hot and perspiring. They look at him coldly.)

  CLARKE: 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—what’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 CLARKE: 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’?

  CLARKE: I God! You call knockin’ a man in de head wid a mule bone nothin’? ’Nother thing, 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 bean 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?

  CLARKE: 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 dose 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 chillon, they drags ’em up. God knows if dat Daisy wus 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!

  (REV. CHILDERS enters left with DAVE and DEACON LINDSAY and SISTER LEWIS. Very hostile glances from SISTERS THOMAS and TAYLOR towards 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) What’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 neet 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 wan-tuh change words wid yuh. Youse too ugly.

  MRS. TAYLOR: You ain’t nobody’s pretty baby, yo’self. You go ugly I betcha yo’ wife have to spread uh sheet over yo’ head tuh let sleep slip up on yuh.

  LINDSAY: (Threatening) 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 gunn 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.)

  MARY ELLA: Y’all ole Meth’dis’ ain’t got no window panes in yo’ church down yonder in de swamp.

  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: Oo e 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.)

  (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 come 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

  Act Two

  Scene II

  SETTING: Interior of Macedonia Baptist Church, a rectangular room. Windows on each side, two Amen Corners. Pulpit with a plush cover with heavy fringe, door in front of church, two oil brackets with reflectors on each side wall, with lamps missing on all but one. One big oil lamp in center.

  ACTION: At the rise, church is about full. A buzz and hum fills the church. Voices of children angry and jeering heard from the street. The church bell begins to toll for death. Everybody looks shocked.

  SISTER LEWIS: Lawd! Is Dave done died from dat lick?

  SISTER THOMAS: (to her husband) Walter, go see. (He gets up and starts down the aisle to front door. Enter DEACON HAMBO by front door.)

  WALTER: Who dead?

  HAMBO: (Laughing) Nobody. Jus’ tollin’ de bell for dat Meth’dis’ gopher dat’s gointer be long, long gone after dis trial. (Laughter from Baptist side. Enter TONY TAYLOR and his wife. TONY is about to go to front of church but MRS. TAYLOR jerks him down into a seat on the aisle on the Methodist side.)

  WALTER: Y’all sho thinks you runs dis town, dontcher? But Elder Simms’ll show you somethin’ t’day. If he don’t God’s up gopher.

  HAMBO: He can’t show us nothin’ cause he do
n’t know nothin’ hisself.

  WALTER: He got mo’ book-learnin’ than Rev. Childers got.

  HAMBO: Childers mought be unletter-learnt, but he kin drive over Simms like a road plow.

  METHODIST CHORUS: Aw naw! Dat’s a lie!

  (Enter REV. SIMMS by front door with open Bible in hand. A murmur of applause rises on the Methodist side. Grunts on the Baptist side. Immediately behind him, comes LUM BOGER leading JIM WESTON. They parade up to the right Amen Corner and seat themselves on the same bench. JIM between the Marshall and preacher. A great rooster-crowing and hen-cackling arises on the Baptist side. JIM WESTON jumps angrily to his feet.)

  JIM: Wisht tuh God I had dat mule bone agin! Ah’d make some uh you mud turtles cackle out de other side yo’ mouf. (Loud laughter of derision from the Baptists. LUM looks scared.)

  SIMMS: Sit down, son; sit down. Be c’am.

  (Enter by front door REV. CHILDERS and DAVE. DAVE’s head is bandaged, but he walks firmly and seems not ill at all. They sit in the left Amen Corner. Jeering grunts from the Methodist side.)

  SISTER THOMAS: Look at ol’ Dave tryin’ to make out he’s hurt.

  METHODIST VOICE: And Childers lookin’ like ten cents worth of have-mercy.

  BAPTIST VOICE: Yes, but you ought to heard that hell fire sermon he preached yesterday on fightin’.

  METHODIST VOICE: Yeah, tryin de case fo’ de trial come up.

  BAPTIST VOICE: Well, sho is a sin to split a man’s head, aint it?

  LIGE: Everybody know uh Baptis’ head is harder’n uh rock. Look like they’d be skeered tuh go in swimmin; do, they heads would drown ’em. (General laughter on Methodist side.)

  SISTER TAYLOR: Some folks is a whole lot more keerful ’bout a louse in de church than dey is in dey house. (Looks pointedly at Sister Lewis)

  SISTER LEWIS: (bristling) Whut you gazin’ at me for? Wid your popeyes lookin’ like skirt ginny-nuts?

  SISTER TAYLOR: I hate to tell you whut yo’ mouf looks like. I thinks you an’ soap an’ water musta had some words.

  Evertime you lifts yo’ arm you smell like a nest of yellow hammers.

  SISTER LEWIS: Well, I ain’t seen no bath tubs in your house.