Mule Bone, Page 7

  SISTER TAYLOR: Mought not have no tub, but tain’t no lice on me though.

  SISTER LEWIS: Aw, you got just as many bed-bugs and chinces as anybody else. I seen de bed-bugs marchin’ out of yo’ house in de mornin’, keepin’ step just like soldiers drillin’.

  SISTER TAYLOR: You got that wrong, I—

  (Enter BROTHER NIXON with his junper jacket on his arm and climbs over the knees of a bench full of people and finds a seat against the wall directly beneath an empty lamp bracket. He looks around for some place to dispose of his coat. Sees the lamp-bracket and hangs the coat there. Hitches up his pants and sits down.)

  SISTER LEWIS: Wait a minute (rising and glaring at NIXON) Shank Nixon, you take yo’ lousy coat down off these sacred walls. Ain’t you Meth’dis’ niggers got no gumption in de house of wash-up!

  (NIXON mocks her by standing akimbo and shaking himself like a woman. General laughter. He prepares to resume his seat, but looks over and sees DEACON HAMBO on his feet, and glaring angrily at him. He quickly reaches up and takes the coat down and folds it across his knee.)

  SISTER TAYLOR: (Looks very pointedly at SISTER LEWIS, then takes a dip of snuff and looks sneering at LEWIS again.) If I kept de dirty house you keeps ma mouth would be a closed book. (Loud laughter from the Meth’dis’ side.)

  SISTER LEWIS: (furious, rises arms akimbo.) Well, my house might not be exactly clean, but there’s no fly-specks on my character! They didn’t have to git de sheriff to make Willie marry me like they did to make Tony marry you.

  SISTER TAYLOR: (jumping up and starting across the aisle. She is pulled back out of the aisle by friends.) Yeah, they got de sheriff to make Tony marry me, but he married me and made me a good husband too. I sits in my rocking cheer on my porch every Sat’day evenin’ an’ say: “Here come Tony and them”

  SISTER LEWIS: (scornfully) Them what?

  SISTER TAYLOR: Them dollars, that’s what! Now you sho orter go git de sheriff and a shot gun and make some of dese men marry yo’ daughter, Ada.

  SISTER LEWIS: (Jumpin’ up an’ startin’ across the aisle. She is restrained, but struggles hard.) Lemme go, Jim Merchant! Turn me go! I’m goin’ to stomp her till she can’t sit down.

  SISTER TAYLOR: (also struggling) Let her come on! If I get my hands on her I’ll turn her every way but loose.

  SISTER LEWIS: Just come on out dis church, Lucy Taylor. I’ll beat you on everything but yo’ tongue, and I’ll give dat a lick if you stick it out. (to the men holding her) Turn me go! I’m goin’ to fix her so her own Mammy won’t know her.

  SISTER TAYLOR: (trying to free herself.) Why don’t y’all turn dat ole twist mouth ’oman loose? All I wants to do is hit her one lick. I betcha I’ll take her ’way from here faster than de word of God.

  SISTER LEWIS: (to men holding Mrs. Taylor) I don’t see how come y’all won’t let old Lucy Taylor a loose. Make out she so bad, now. She may be red hot but I kin cool her. I’ll ride her just like Jesus rode a jackass.

  (As they subside into their seats again, but glare at each other, MAYOR CLARKE comes thru the pulpit door. He is annoyed at the clamor going on. He tries to quell the noise with a frown.)

  SISTER TAYLOR: Dat ain’t nothin’ but talk. You looks lak de Devil before day, but you ain’t so bad; not half as bad as you smell.

  MAYOR CLARKE: Order, please, court is set.

  SISTER LEWIS: You looks like de devil’s doll baby, but all I want you to do is put it where I kin git it an’ I’ll sho use it.

  MAYOR CLARKE: (booming) Here! Here! (feeling everywhere for the gavel) Lum Boger! Where’s dat gavel I done told you to put here?

  LUM BOGER: (from beside prisoner) You said you was gonna bring it yo’self.

  MAYOR CLARKE: (going up in the air) I God, Lum, you gointer stand there like a bump on a log and see I ain’t got nothin’ to open court wid? Go ’head an’ fetch me dat gavel. Make haste quick before dese wimmen folks tote off dis church house. (LUM exits by front door.)

  SISTER TAYLOR: (to LEWIS) Aw, shut up, you big ole he-looking rascal you! Nobody don’t know whether youse a man or a woman.

  CLARKE: You wimmen, shut up! Hush! Just hush! (He wipes his face with a huge handkerchief.)

  SISTER LEWIS: (To SISTER TAYLOR) Air Lawd! Dat ain’t your trouble. They all knows whut you is eg-zackly.

  LINDSAY: Aw? why don’t you wimmen cut dat out in de church house? Jus’ jawin’ an chewin’ de rag!

  SISTER TAYLOR: Joe Lindsay, if you’d go home an’ feed dat rawbony horse of yourn, you wouldn’t have so much time to stick yo’ bill in business that ain’t yourn.

  SISTER LEWIS: Joe Lindsay, don’t you know no better than to strain wid folks ain’t got sense enough to tote guts to a bear? If they ain’t born wid no sense, you can’t learn ’em none.

  LINDSAY: You sho done tole whut God love now. (glaring across the aisle) Ain’t got enough gumption to bell a buzzard. (Enter LUM by front door with gavel in one hand and mule bone in the other. He walks importantly up the aisles and hands CLARKE the gavel and lays the bone atop the pulpit.)

  WALTER: Huh! Marshall had done forgot de bone.

  METHODIST SISTER: It’s a wonder he ain’t forgot hisself.

  CLARKE: (rapping sharply with gavel) Here! you moufy wimmen shut up. (to LUM) Lum you go on back there and shut dem wimmen up or put em outa here. They shan’t contempt this court. (He wipes his eye glasses.)

  (LUM starts walking importantly down the aisle towards SISTER TAYLOR. She almost rises to meet him.)

  SISTER TAYLOR: Lum Boger, you fresh little snot you! Don’t you dast to come here trying to put me out; many diapers as I done pinned on you! (fiercely) Git away from me before I knock every nap off of yo’ head, one by one. (LUM BOGER hurries away from her apologetically. He turns towards MRS. LEWIS.)

  MRS. LEWIS: (calmly) Deed God knows you better not lay de weight of yo’ hand on me, Lum. Gwan way from here before I kick yo’ clothes up round yo’ neck like a horse collar. (All the men laugh. LUM looks worried and finally goes back and takes his seat beside the prisoner.)

  CLARKE: (glaring ferociously) This court is set an’ I’m bound to have some order or else. (The talking ceases. Absolute quiet.)

  CLARKE: NOW less git down to business. We got folks in dis town dat’s just like a snake in de grass.

  SISTER PITTS: Brother Mayor! We ain’t got no business goin’ into no trial for nothin’ else ’thout a word of prayer to be sure de right spirit is wid us.

  VOICE ON METHODIST SIDE: Thass right, Elder Simms. Give us a word of prayer. (He rises hurriedly.)

  VOICE ON BAPTIST SIDE: This is a Baptist church an’ de paster is sittin’ right here. How come he can’t pray in his own church?

  TAYLOR: Y’all done started all dis mess, how you goin’ to git de right spirit here? Go ’head Rev. Simms.

  LEWIS: He cain’t pray over me. Dis church says: One Lord, one faith, one Baptism, and a man that ain’t never been baptised at all ain’t got no business prayin’ over nobody.

  CLARKE: (rapping with gavel) Less sing. Somebody raise a tune.

  VOICE ON BAPTIST SIDE: (begins) “Onward Christian Soldiers” (and the others join in)

  VOICE ON METHODIST SIDE: (Begins) “All hail the power of Jesus name”, (and the Methodists join in. Both shout as loud as they can to the end of the verse. Clarke lifts his hands rapidly as if to bless a table.)

  CLARKE: (Praying, quickly) Lowd be with us and bless these few remarks we are about to receive amen. Now this court is open for business. All of us know we come here on serious business. This town is bout to be tore up by backbiting and malice and mouthy women. (Glaring at the Sisters) Now everybody that’s a witness in this case, stand up. I wants the witness to take the front seat. (Nearly everybody in the room rises. Clarke tries to count them.)

  HAMBO: (Frowns across the aisle at MRS. LUCAS, who is standing.) Whut you doing standing up for a witness? I know you wuzn’t there. />
  SISTER LUCAS: I got just as much right to testify as you is. I don’t keer if I wasn’t there. Any man that treats they wife bad as you can’t tell nobody else they eye is black. You clean round yo’ own door before you go sweeping round other folks.

  SISTER LINDSAY: (to NIXON) Whut you doing up there testifyin? When you done let yo’ hawg root up all my p’tater patch?

  NIXON: Aw, shut up woman. You ain’t had no taters for no pig to root up.

  SISTER LINDSAY: Who ain’t had no taters? (to LIGE) Look here, Lige, didn’t I git a whole crokus sack full of tater slips from yo’ brother, Sam?

  LIGE: (Reluctantly) Yeah.

  SISTER LINDSAY: Course I had sweet p’taters! And if you stand up there and tell me I aint had no p’taters, I’ll be all over you just like gravy over rice.

  NIXON: AW, shut up. We ain’t come here to talk about yo’ tater vines. We come—

  SISTER LINDSAY: (to her husband) Joe! Whut kind of a husband is you? Sit here and let Nixon ’buse me out lak dat.

  WALTER THOMAS: How is Joe goin’ give anybody a straightenin’, when he needs straightenin’ hisself?

  SISTER HAMBO: Aw, you ain’t got no right to talk, Walter. Not low down as you is. If somebody stump their toe in dis town you bolt over to Maitland an’ puke yo’ guts out to de white folks, and God knows I ’bominates a white folks nigger.

  WALTER THOMAS: Aw, you jus’ mad ’cause I wouldn’t let your old starved-out cow eat up my cow-peas.

  CLARKE: (Pounding) Hush and lemme count.

  SISTER HAMBO: (triumphantly) UNhumh! I knowed you was the one knocked my cow’s horn off! And you lied like a doodle-bug goin’ backwards in his hole an’ made out you didn’t do it.

  WALTER THOMAS: I didn’t do no such a thing, woman.

  SISTER HAMBO: I say you did, and I belong to Macedonia Baptist Church an’ I can’t lie.

  DEACON HAMBO: Walter Thomas, talk dat biggity talk to me, not to my wife. Maybe you kin whip her, but if you can’t whip me, too, don’t bring de mess up.

  CLARKE: (rapping) Y’all men folks shut up before I put you both under arrest. Come to order everybody.

  LINDSAY: I just want a say this before we go any further. Nobody bet’ not slur my wife in here. Do, I’ll strow ’em over de country.

  MRS. NIXON: Aw, youse de nastiest threatener in three states, but I ain’t seen you do nothin’. De seat of yo’ pants is too close to de ground for you to be crowin’ so loud. You’s so short you smell right earthy.

  CLARKE: Shut up! We didn’t come here to wash an’ iron niggers! We come here for a trial. (raps)

  MRS. NIXON: (to CLARKE) I ain’t goin’ to shut up nothin’ of de kind.

  CLARKE: Sister Nixon, shut up!

  MRS. NIXON: You can’t shut me up, not the way you live. When you quit beatin’ Mrs. Mattie an’ dominizing her all de time, then you kin tell other folks what to do. You ain’t none of my boss, not de way you sells rancid bacon for fresh.

  CLARKE: (to MARSHALL) Lum Boger, git me a pencil, (to MRS. NIXON) Big a bill as you owe ma store, you ain’t gonna get nothin’ else till you pay.

  MRS. NIXON: Huh! I can trade in Maitland—an’ see if I pays you now.

  NIXON: AW, honey, hush a while, please, and less git started. You don’t pay de bills no how. (The men laugh.)

  JIM: Lawd! Lawd! We done set de whole town fightin’.

  DAVE: Boy’, we sho is!

  CHILDERS: Son, don’t talk wid yo’ ’sailent. He’s a wicked man.

  DAVE: HOW come I can’t talk wid him? Known him all ma life.

  CHILDERS: Shss. He done tried to kill you.

  DAVE: Was our fight, warn’t it?

  JIM: You niggers just tryin to get us messed up on some kind o’ mess. Dave knows I ain’t meant to hurt him.

  SIMMS: (to JIM) Derserved to be hurt.

  DAVE: No, he didn’t. We’s just friendly-fightin’-like.

  CHILDERS: He sho tried to kill you!

  (CLARKE raps. A momentary quiet falls on the place. MAYOR glowers all over the place.)

  CLARKE: Here! Quiet till you’s called on. (Turns to LUM) Lum, git a piece of paper an take de names of all de witnesses who was there while de fight was goin’ on.

  LUM: (Pulling a small tablet and pencil out of his coat pocket) I brought it with me.

  CLARKE: NOW everybody who was at de fight hold up yo’ hands so Lum kin know who you are. (Several hands go up. SISTER ANDERSON puts up her hand.)

  CLARKE: You wuzn’t there, Sister Anderson, not at that time.

  SISTER ANDERSON: I hadn’t been gone more’n ten minutes.

  CLARKE: But you didn’t see it.

  SISTER ANDERSON: It don’t make no difference. My husband heered every word was spoke an’ told me, jes’ lak it happen. Don’t tell me I can’t testify.

  DEACON HAMBO: Nobody can’t testify but them what seen it.

  SISTER ANDERSON: Dat’s all right, but I know whut they was fightin’ ’bout. It was Daisy Taylor.

  MRS. BLUNT: Jus’ you take my chile’s name right out yo’ mouf, Dilcie Anderson. She was on her way back to her white folks when all this happen.

  SISTER ANDERSON: Well, God knows if dat Daisy was 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!

  MRS. BLUNT: You better hush while you able! You niggers got my Daisy’s name all mixed up in dis mess, an’ she at work, can’t defend herself.

  MRS. TAYLOR: You musn’t mind, 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 PITTS: Chile, if you listen at 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 woman, chick or child, grizzly or gray, that tells me to my face anythin’ wrong ’bout my chile, I’m goin’ to take my fist (Rolling up right sleeve and gesturing 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 gals 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 discriminate you.

  MRS. BLUNT: Just as sho as you snore. An’ they better leave Daisy’s name outa dis, too, an’ Daisy better not leave them white folks’ house 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’ be mixed up in nothin’ like this.

  MRS. THOMAS: That’s right, Sister Blunt. I glory in yo’ spunk.

  MAYOR CLARKE: Sit down, Sister Blunt an’ shet up. Ain’t gonna mention Daisy a-tall. Ain’t gonna drag no woman’s name in dis trial long as I’s presidin’.

  METHODIST SISTER: Dis ain’t no trial. Dis is a mess!

  REV. SIMMS: You sho said a mouthful, Sister. Dis sho is a mess. Can’t help from bein’ uh mess. (Glares at MAYOR) Holdin’ a trial in de Baptist Church! Some folks ain’t got sense enough to do ’em till four o’clock, an’ its way after half past three right now.

  MAYOR CLARKE: Shet up, dere, Simms! Set down! Who ast yo’ pot to boil, nohow? A church trial is de bes’ trial they is, anyhow, cause you better have a good experience here an’ a strong determination. (Raps vigorously) Now lemme tel y’all somethin’. When de Mayor sets court, don’t keer when I sets it nor where I sets it, you got to git quiet and stay quiet till I ast you tuh talk. Set
down! All o’ yuh! I God, you sound lak a tree full uh blackbirds! Dis ain’t no barbecue, nor neither no camp meetin’. We ’sembled here tuh law uh boy on a serious charge. (A great buzz rises from the congregation. MAYOR raps hard for order and glares all about him.) Heah! Heah! All o’ us kin sing at de same time, but can’t but one o’ us talk at a time. I’m doin’ de talkin’ now, so de res’ o’ you dry up till I git through. I God, you sound lak uh passel uh dog fights! We ain’t here for no form and no fashion and no outside show to de worl’. We’se here to law!

  (For a moment, there is silence, then a small boy, peeping in window on the Methodist side says:)

  BOY: (Thru window, right) Aw, haw! Y’all ole Baptis’ ain’t got no bookcase in yo’ church.

  SMALL GIRL: (In window on opposite side, left, with other children) Y’all ole Meth’dis’ ain’t got no window panes in yo’ church down yonder in de swamp.

  CLARKE: (Booming) You chillun shut up and get out o’ them winders. You, Lum! (LUM stops taking names to go shoo the children. The old people aid him, and the children on left run off singing:)

  CHILDREN: 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.

  CLARKE: (Rapping) You done got all de witnesses straight an’ got they names down?

  LUM: Yassuh, I got it all straightened out.

  CLARKE: Well, read de names out and let de witnesses take de front seats. Who is they?

  LUM: (Reading) Mrs. Lucy Taylor, Sister Katie Pitts, Sister Doll Nixon, Deacon Hambo, Brother Lige Mosely, Brother Joe Lindsay….

  LINDSAY: Brother, my eye!

  LUM: (Continuing the reading of the list) Mr. Sykes Jones, Sister Laura Carter, Mr. Pat Jenkins. And they was lots mo’ there but they say they ain’t gonna witness. (Those whose names were read begin to rise and start forward.)

  JIM: They better not neither.

  SIMMS: Shsss! De devil can’t hurt you, son. An’ them what speaks against you is devils.

  CLARKE: Won’t witness, heh? Huh-um! Well, I see they’s some witnessin’ whut warn’t there. Lucy Taylor, you know you left mah store fo’ dat fight come off!