The curtain rises on the sitting-room of a Negro’s squalid dwelling in Goat Alley, Washington, D. C. At Right Back, there is a door giving directly on the street and when it is open one gets a glimpse of the miserable, tumble-down houses on the opposite side. At Left Back is a window, with one pane broken and an old shirt stuffed in the hole. The one or two old rag-carpet rugs which lie on the floor serve only in a small measure to cover its bareness. Several old, broken and battered chairs stand here and there about the room. At Left Center is a door leading into the other downstairs room of the house. Between it and the wall, Back, is a door opening into a closet.There is another door, down Right, giving on a flight of stairs which lead to the one upper room of the house. Near the door, Left Center, and toward the front stands a battered table on which lie, in disordered array newspapers and one or two dog-eared books with their backs off. It is evening and a lighted oil lamp, with the chimney badly smoked, rests in the center. The wick is turned low and the guttering flame causes countless shadows to disport themselves eerily about the room. Between the door, Left Center, and the door, up Left, stands a fancy cupboard. There is a large easy chair between the table and the wall, LeftCenter. Both of these pieces of furniture look out of place in the room.Flamboyant lithographs, a gilt-framed picture of Jack Johnson, wearing his golden smile, a framed engraving of Abraham Lincoln, and several grotesque crayon portraits of members of the family adorn the dirty and discolored walls. An old corset, a half-eaten roll, and a doll, with its head off, lie about on the floor. A horseshoe is nailed over the center of the door, Back.Aunt Rebecca, an old coal-black Negress, enters, Back. She wears no hat and has just a shawl thrown over her shoulders. She presents the appearance of an animated mummy. Her eyes are small and bead-like and shine with an uncanny lustre; her hands are long and bony, resembling the talons of a hawk. She glances about inquiringly, gives an impatient grunt, then turns and slowly closes the door.
The curtain rises on the sitting-room of a Negro’s squalid dwelling in Goat Alley, Washington, D. C. At Right Back, there is a door giving directly on the street and when it is open one gets a glimpse of the miserable, tumble-down houses on the opposite side. At Left Back is a window, with one pane broken and an old shirt stuffed in the hole. The one or two old rag-carpet rugs which lie on the floor serve only in a small measure to cover its bareness. Several old, broken and battered chairs stand here and there about the room. At Left Center is a door leading into the other downstairs room of the house. Between it and the wall, Back, is a door opening into a closet.
There is another door, down Right, giving on a flight of stairs which lead to the one upper room of the house. Near the door, Left Center, and toward the front stands a battered table on which lie, in disordered array newspapers and one or two dog-eared books with their backs off. It is evening and a lighted oil lamp, with the chimney badly smoked, rests in the center. The wick is turned low and the guttering flame causes countless shadows to disport themselves eerily about the room. Between the door, Left Center, and the door, up Left, stands a fancy cupboard. There is a large easy chair between the table and the wall, LeftCenter. Both of these pieces of furniture look out of place in the room.
Flamboyant lithographs, a gilt-framed picture of Jack Johnson, wearing his golden smile, a framed engraving of Abraham Lincoln, and several grotesque crayon portraits of members of the family adorn the dirty and discolored walls. An old corset, a half-eaten roll, and a doll, with its head off, lie about on the floor. A horseshoe is nailed over the center of the door, Back.
Aunt Rebecca, an old coal-black Negress, enters, Back. She wears no hat and has just a shawl thrown over her shoulders. She presents the appearance of an animated mummy. Her eyes are small and bead-like and shine with an uncanny lustre; her hands are long and bony, resembling the talons of a hawk. She glances about inquiringly, gives an impatient grunt, then turns and slowly closes the door.
AUNT REBECCA(in high-pitched raspy tones as she moves to the Center)
Lucy Belle! Oh, Lucy Belle!
LUCY BELLE(from the next room)
Dat yo’, Aun’ Becky?
AUNT REBECCA
Yas, honey.
LUCY BELLE
Jes’ a minute. Changin’ mah skirt.
(Aunt Rebecca drops into a chair, Left Center, and begins a weird and doleful chant.)
AUNT REBECCA
Um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a! Trouble in mah soul! Um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a! Trouble! (High treble) Um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a! Trouble in mah soul! Um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a! Trouble in mah soul! Um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a!
(Lucy Belle enters, Left. She is a frail, light brown young Negress of about twenty-eight. She has a nervous, hesitant—and sometimes wistful—manner. She wears a plain black waist and a black skirt, patched in several places.)
LUCY BELLE(feelingly, as she kisses Aunt Rebecca)
Aun’ Becky! I’se so glad ter see yo’ agin! ’Deed I is! (Draws up a chair and sits near her.)
AUNT REBECCA(affectionately)
Po’ful glad ter see yo’, honey!
LUCY BELLE
Seem like ole times—seein’ yo’! Lessee—how-some long yo’ all been ’way?
AUNT REBECCA(reflectively)
Um! Um! (Puts a hand to her head and purses her lips.) Dat gin got mah haid all tangle up! Um! Keep tellin’ G’orge whiskey suit me bettah—but he like gin. How long? Um! Um! Gawd-a-massy! Be a yeah in Feb-wary!
(Lucy Belle exclaims incredulously.)
LUCY BELLE
Go ’long!
AUNT REBECCA
Sho’ has! I—I was free mon’s in Cumberlan’ wid Sadie—she dat slim yallow one, yo’ know—got a mole on dis cheek. (Indicates.) Some say dat de reason she so lucky. I ain’ sayin’. Up dere mos’ six mon’s wid Em’ly—she dat fat brown gal. (Lucy Belle nods.) An’ den I reckon ’bout fo’ mon’s in Frederick wid Henry. (Throws back her head proudly.) Henry great big fine lookin’ niggah. Ain’ so lucky, dough. Bawn in de da’k ob de moon.
LUCY BELLE
I ’member him. I ’member seein’ him ’roun’ yere w’en his fader died—ole Uncle Henry,—
AUNT REBECCA(scornfully)
Huh! Dat niggah was’n’ his fader. No, indeedy! Dat lil’ scrootchin’ monkey was’n’ calc’lated ter be de fader ob no boy like Henry.
(Lucy Belle gives an exclamation of surprise. Aunt Rebecca sits in perplexed preoccupation for several moments. At length she speaks very slowly—dragging out the words, one after another.)
AUNT REBECCA
’Deed chile, I kain’t seem ter ’member who Henry’s fader was. Dat gin got mah haid so tangle up.
LUCY BELLE
Lot done happen since yo’ been ’way.
AUNT REBECCA
Don’ I know it! Don’ I know it!
(Fanny Dorsey, a little Negro girl of eight, and Israel Dorsey, a little Negro boy of four, run in, Left.)
FANNY
Mamma! Yo’ all gwine ’way?
LUCY BELLE
I ain’ gwine nowhar.
ISRAEL
Mamma! Git me some candy!
LUCY BELLE(harshly, as she rises)
Yo’ all hush! I ain’ gwine ter git yo’ nuffin!
FANNY
Mamma! I wan’ ter go out an’ play wid Gordy!
LUCY BELLE
Shet up! Yo’ ain’ gwine ter play wid nobody! Git in dere an’ git ter bed! Go ’long! Yo’ yere me? (Threateningly.) Wan’ me ter beat yo’?
ISRAEL
Mamma! Git me—
(Lucy Belle grabs them roughly and pushes them through the door, Left, closing it after them. Their cries are heard for several moments and then gradually cease.)
LUCY BELLE(irritably)
Some day I’se gwine ter git good an’ mad an’ knock dere haids off!
AUNT REBECCA
How’s Sam—?
LUCY BELLE(drops down on a chair near Aunt Rebecca and exclaims ecstatically)
Jes’ great! Aun’ Becky, he’s de bes’ ole budigee in de worl’!
AUNT REBECCA
Ain’ nobody got nuffin’ on Sam.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ said it! Jes’ as good ter me as he know how ter be. Do ev’ythin’ I ask him.
AUNT REBECCA
Don’ haf ter tell me dat.
LUCY BELLE
He’s de onlies’ niggah I evah loved.
AUNT REBECCA
Don’ make ’em no bettah den Sam.
LUCY BELLE
He’s mah honey-baby, buddy boy!
AUNT REBECCA(with a good-natured chuckle)
Listen ter yo!
LUCY BELLE(her face clouding)
But he ain’ had such good luck lately—.
AUNT REBECCA
How come dat—?
LUCY BELLE
I dunno—. Till ’bout a monf ago he wuk steady fo de Simpson Express Company. Drive a wagon fo’ dem.
AUNT REBECCA
Dat w’at he doin’ w’en I lef’.
LUCY BELLE
Sho’, sho’—. Good job, too. But de wuk gits slack—an’ dey lets him out.
AUNT REBECCA
Go ’long!
LUCY BELLE
He try an’ try ter git anoder job—but could’n’ seem ter fin’ nuffin’. Times is bad, yo’ know.Neah walk his feet off jes’ seein’ ef he kain’t git somefin’ by de day.
AUNT REBECCA
Yo’ don’ say!
LUCY BELLE
Sam’s as steady as dey make ’em. Ef he ain’ wukkin he jes’ ’bout goes crazy.
AUNT REBECCA
Don’ I know it.
LUCY BELLE
So finally he up an’ gwine ter Baltimo’—an’ gits a job wid de Street Departmen’—diggin’ ditches fo’ wattah mains.
AUNT REBECCA
In Baltimo’—!
LUCY BELLE
Yas, indeedy! I been at him fo’ a long time ter go ovah dere.
AUNT REBECCA
Yo’ is—!
LUCY BELLE
Aun’ Becky, dey’s some niggahs ’roun’ dis town—dat jes’ watchin’ dere chanct ter blackguard him an me—git back at us any way dey kin.
AUNT REBECCA(with a little snort)
Go ’long, now—w’at yo’ talkin’ ’bout.
LUCY BELLE
Dey sho’ is—! An’ jes as soon as he git somefin’ steady—an’ dat pay a lil’ bettah we gwine ter move ovah dere.
AUNT REBECCA(with a wail)
Gawd-a-massy, w’at yo’ po’ ole Aun’ Becky gwine ter do!
LUCY BELLE
Be mighty sorry ter leave yo’, Aun’ Becky—!
AUNT REBECCA(with facetious fervor)
Why, chile, w’at yo’ ’spose I done come back ter Wash’nin’ fo’?
LUCY BELLE
I know yo’ gwine ter miss me—an’ I’se gwine ter miss yo’—but it tain’ so far away dat I kain’t git ovah—now an’ den. An’ yo’ kin come ovah an’ see me—!
AUNT REBECCA(shaking her head)
Lawsy, lawsy—dat’s de way. Jes’ as soon as yo’ git ter likin’ somebody—dey up an’ gwine ’way.
LUCY BELLE
It gwine ter be bes’ fo’ bof ob us, Aun’ Becky—!
AUNT REBECCA
I reckon yo’ know—but jes’ de same—
LUCY BELLE
An’—an’ terday I feels mo’ like we got ter git ’way den evah.
AUNT REBECCA
How come dat—?
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ know Sam ain’ nevah had nuffin’ much ter do wid oder gals.
AUNT REBECCA(with a nod)
He don’ look like he ’ud chase ’em much.
LUCY BELLE
He don’! He ain’ dat kin’! But—but fo’ de las’ free weeks dey’s a gal dat he uster know—long time ago—keep comin’ ’roun’ yere.
AUNT REBECCA
Go ’long!
LUCY BELLE
Her name Lizzie Gibbs—an’ she de hardes’ ole yallow gal yo’ evah seen.
AUNT REBECCA
She come ’roun’ yere—!
LUCY BELLE
Sam only gits home onct or twict a week—mos’ly only onct. I allas goes ter de do’ w’en he’s yere—an’ ef she come—he duck upstairs fo’ she kin lay eyes on him.
AUNT REBECCA
Would’n’ stan’ fo’ nuffin’ like dat!
LUCY BELLE
W’at yo’ gwine ter do? She so hard she liable ter do anathin’. She—she was yere dis mawnin’. She say she gwine ter keep comin’ ’till she see Sam.
AUNT REBECCA
Gawd-a-massy! Put depo-lice on her—!
LUCY BELLE(shakes her head)
Ef I do dat, she liable ter make trouble—
AUNT REBECCA
W’at trouble kin she make ef dey locks her up?
LUCY BELLE
She might make trouble ’tween me an’ Sam—ef she’s a min’ ter—
AUNT REBECCA
’Tween yo’ an’ Sam—! Go ’long!
LUCY BELLE
Sam don’ care no mo’ fo’ her den he do a rat—but she crazy jealous—
AUNT REBECCA
’Co’se she is—an’ dat’s de reason—
LUCY BELLE(touches Aunt Rebecca on the knee)
I tell yo’ why I got ter go easy wid her—till I see mah way out. Maybe yo’ kin he’p me—
AUNT REBECCA
Sho’—!
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ see she’s de onlies’ one ob all dem blackguardin’ niggahs dat uster live ’roun’ me ovah dere in Carter Street—fo’ I moves yere ter Goat Alley—(Breaks off and stares sombrely into space for several moments, then proceeds with a slight catch in her voice.) Aun’ Becky, I’se had it hard. Ain’ nevah had much luck—’deed I ain’—’cept meetin’ up wid Sam agin.
AUNT REBECCA
Yo’ ain’ nevah tol’ me much ’bout yo’se’f.
LUCY BELLE
Nevah tol’ nobody—much. W’at’s de use?
AUNT REBECCA
Go on! W’at’s on yo’ min’?
LUCY BELLE
Mah moder died w’en I’se fifteen—an’ Pap goes off ter Texas an’ I ain’ nevah seen him since. Slim—mah bro’der—he was jes’ a lil’ kid—baby mos’—an’ I did’n’ have no oder people.
AUNT REBECCA
Bless yo’ soul—!
LUCY BELLE
Done mos’ anathin’ I could—jes’ ter make a livin’. Wuk in laundries, cook, wait on tables—. Starts gwine ’roun’ wid de boys, too. Yo’ knowhow a gal is. Meets up wid Sam an’ Jeff Bisbee an’ Ed Cales—an’ a bunch-a oders like dem. Jeff hang ’roun’ aftah me mos’ all de time—an’ Sam do, too. Sam allas a wuk steady—but Jeff, he nevah wukked ’less he had ter. He’s—he a hard niggah—allas drunk, an’ fightin’ an’ shootin’ crap. But—well—yo’ know how a gal is—(Aunt Rebecca grunts and nods.) He looks good ter me, kase he wear swell clothes, an’ spend money free, an’ boas’ how many cops he cut. Was’n’ long, dough, fo’ Jeff git crazy jealous-a Sam—an’ one day—down yere in Four-an’-a-ha’f Street—dey meets up an’ has a fight. (As though somewhat thrilled by the memory of it.) Man-day, but dey flew at each oder! Like a couple-a wildcats! But depo-lice bus’ in on ’em. Dey ketch Jeff—but Sam git away.
AUNT REBECCA
Mah soul—!
LUCY BELLE
Jeff gits six mon’s in de wukhouse. I meets up wid Sam a few days aftah. Like de fool I is—I ’cuses him ob startin’ de fight.
AUNT REBECCA
Hush yo’ mouf!
LUCY BELLE
I did’n’ know who did—’zactly—but I was sore kase Jeff was in jail. He been takin’ me ’roun’, yo’ see—spendin’ lots-a money on me—an’—an’—Oh, well I jes’ a damn fool, kase I ain’ got nobody ter look aftah me. (Shakes her head remorsefully.) Sam gits mad—an’ quits comin’ ’roun’ ter see me. Tells me, now, dat he git de idea dat I didn’t care nuffin’ at all ’bout him. All de time he crazy ’bout me! (Pauses a moment in reverent thought.) He was livin’ ovah in M Street. Ole Lizzie Gibbs livin’ dere, too. Dat’s whar he meets up wid her. She had been foolin’ ’roun’ aftah him fo’ a long time. Aftah dat scrap me an’ him had, he gits so down in de mouf dat he takes up wid her fo’ a while.
AUNT REBECCA
Dat ole yallaw gal yo’ jes’ tellin’ me ’bout?
LUCY BELLE(nodding)
Yas. But only fo’ a lil’ while—he say. He seen right away how hard she was—an’ dat she was’n’ no good—an’ he draps her like a hot tater.
AUNT REBECCA
Reckon he would—!
LUCY BELLE
Den he decides ter beat it—an’ goes off ter Atlanta. Stays dere five yeahs. Only come back yere ’bout a yeah ago.
AUNT REBECCA
An’ yo’ ain’ seen him—all dat time?
LUCY BELLE
No.
AUNT REBECCA
Gawd-a-massy!
LUCY BELLE
But he say he was thinkin’ ’bout me all de time! Nevah fo’git me an’ nevah seen any oder gal dat he like bettah! (Shakes her head.) An’ I sho’ nevah did fo’git him! Ef I’d only stuckter him. Would’n’ have had ha’f de trouble I is. Yo’ see—yo’ see, aftah he’d been gone a while I began ter see w’at a good fellah he’d been. (Pauses a moment in sombre thought.) While Jeff was in de wukhouse I marries Ed Cales. He uster bootblack on de Avenue an’ carry sample cases fo’ drummers. Fo’ a lil’ while he drive a wagon fo’ a white man dat run a meat stan’ on Louisiana Avenue. But mos’ de time he don’ do nuffin’ but lay ’roun de house. (Contemptuously.) He wasn’ no good—jes’ a loafin’, no-count niggah dat lay ’roun an’ let a gal wuk fo’ him—long as she would stan’ fo’ it. I lives wid him two yeahs. Den one day he say he gwine down ter Richmon’ fo’ a few days, beats it off—an’ I ain’ nevah seen him since.
AUNT REBECCA
Yo’ lucky ter git rid-a him so easy!
LUCY BELLE(nodding)
’Deed I was! (Sighs heavily.) ’Bout free mon’s aftah dat I meets Jeff Bisbee ovah in Gerner’s one day—an’—an’ he walks home wid me. I’se livin’ ovah in Carter Street den. (Gives a little nervous shudder.) He shoot off his mouf great. Tol’ me how much he think-a me—an’ dat I is de onlies’ gal dat evah got him goin’—an’ all dat kin’-a stuff. He say dat he broke—but dat he ’spec’ ter collec’ some money in a week or two—an’ dat he don’ know w’at he gwine ter do till den. Begs me ter let him stay dere wid me fo’ a few days. (Drops her head and sighs.) I finally does. De longer he stay de harder hegit, an’ by-an’-by he say ef I don’ let him stay dere all de time he gwine ter kill me. He say ef I call depo-lice he gwine ter lay fo’ me—an’ watch his chanct—night an’ day—till he git me. Hones’, I gits so scar’t I did’n’ hardly know w’at ter do. An’—an’ so he keeps livin’ on dere wid me—an’ I keeps thinkin’ mo’ an’ mo’ ’bout Sam—an’ wishin’ I’d stuck ter him—an’ dat I knowed whar he was.
AUNT REBECCA
’Deed, honey, I knows how yo’ must-a felt.
LUCY BELLE
He wuk in a livery stable ovah on C Street fo’ a while. Couldn’ git him ter do nuffin’ steady. Mos’ de time he jes’ lay ’roun’ de house an’ guzzle gin—guzzle gin—an’ w’en he ain’ doin’ dat, he out in de alley shootin’ crap wid Mink Hall an’ Slim an’ dat gang.
AUNT REBECCA
He wuss den no-count!
LUCY BELLE
I was a fool, I knows—ter stick ter him. ’Deed I was! But I’se so scar’t an’ down in de mouf dat I ain’ got good sense. (Aunt Rebecca nods sympathetically.) All de time Jeff keep gittin’ harder an’ harder. An’ me wukkin’ mah haid off ter feed him an’ de chillen. Ev’y onct in while he gits mad an’ beats me up. Finally I’se pretty neah crazy. One night w’en he’s away I gits mah broder Slim ter come ovah an’ he’p me. We packs ev’ythin’ up an’ moves ovah yere—an’ I did’n’ tell nobody whar I was gwine.
AUNT REBECCA
Yo’ look like yo’ had somefin’ on yo’ min’—dat fust day I seen yo’ yere!
LUCY BELLE
’Deed I did! (Shakes her head.) Ain’ seen hide nor hair-a him since. (Abruptly, after a moment or two of troubled thought.) Yo’—yo’ see, Aun’ Becky, ef dey’s anabody in de worl’ dat Sam hate—it—it Jeff Bisbee—
AUNT REBECCA
Sho! Sho!
LUCY BELLE
Hate him like poison! (Hesitatingly.) I—I ain’ nevah tol’ him dat I live wid Jeff.
AUNT REBECCA
Yo’ ain’—?
LUCY BELLE
Ain’ had de nerve! He know dat I married Ed Cales—an’ I tol’ him mos’ ev’ythin’ else—an’ he say w’at is pas is pas’. But yo’ see it was Jeff dat bus’ him an’ me up befo’—an’ he call him de hardes’ niggah in Wash’nin’—
AUNT REBECCA
Any way ob him findin’ out—?
LUCY BELLE
Only ef somebody tell him.
AUNT REBECCA
Who know—?
LUCY BELLE
Slim, an’ dem people in Carter Street, an’ ole Lizzie Gibbs—
AUNT REBECCA
She know—?
LUCY BELLE(nodding)
Sho’.
AUNT REBECCA
Den’ yo’ bettah watch out—kase ef she like w’at yo’ tell me she ain’ gwine ter keep it to herse’f.
LUCY BELLE
I reckon she ain’—an’ dat’s w’at got me so worried. Yo see, she yere Sam talk so much ’bout me dat it make her crazy jealous. W’en he gwine ’way ter Atlanta, she figure dat ef he come back he mos’ likely come ter me fust. Leas’-ways dat w’at I think she figure. So she move ovah dere ter Carter Street, an’ take a house near me, wid de idea dat maybe she kin bus’ me an’ Sam up—ef he come back. I was married ter Ed Cales den—but aftah while I takes up wid Jeff—like I done tol’ yo’—an’ all de time she’s watchin’ me like a hawk widout me knowin’ it—.
AUNT REBECCA
Tryin’ ter git somefin’ on yo’—!
LUCY BELLE
Sho’! An’ now—now dat she found out whar I live—an’ dat he’s back—she’s comin’ at me agin—!
AUNT REBECCA
Put depo-lice on her!
LUCY BELLE
Den she boun’ ter tell Sam—an’ lie an’ blackguard on me wuss den evah—! Don’ yo’ see—? (Twining and intertwining her fingers and staringinto space with a distraught expression.) I don’ know w’at ter do!
(The children suddenly give vent to shouts and can be heard romping wildly in the room, off Left.)
LUCY BELLE(rising)
Listen ter dem chillen—! (Moving toward, Left.) ’Scuse me while I puts dem ter bed.
(Aunt Rebecca sits in a brown study.)
AUNT REBECCA(as Lucy Belle nears the door, Left)
Lucy Belle—!
LUCY BELLE(pausing)
Yas.
AUNT REBECCA
Who de fader ob Fanny?
LUCY BELLE
Ed Cales. (Hesitatingly) Is-Israel is—is Jeff’s.
(Aunt Rebecca grunts and nods. Lucy Belle goes out, Left. Aunt Rebecca sits pondering for several moments and then begins to chant.)
AUNT REBECCA(chanting)
Um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a! Trouble in mah soul! Um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a! Trouble in mah soul! Um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a! Trouble in mah soul! Um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a—um—a!
(A knock sounds on the door, Back. Aunt Rebecca glances toward the door and gives an annoyed grunt. The knock sounds again. AuntRebecca gets up, grumbling to herself, goes to the door and opens it. Lizzie Gibbs steps in. She is a large, voluptuous, mulatto woman. She has straight hair, high cheek bones, and large coarse features. Her manner is over-bearing and insolent.)
LIZZIE
H’yo’—?
AUNT REBECCA(surveying her with an air of frank suspicion and disapproval)
W’at yo’ wan’—?
LIZZIE(swaggering down toward Center with her hands on her hips)
Sam Reed live yere, don’ he—?
AUNT REBECCA
None ob yo’ bus’ness weder he do or weder he don’—!
LIZZIE(savagely)
Go ’long, yo’ ole black wench! Don’ yo’ give me no back talk! (Glaring at her malevolently.) Don’ yo ’spose I knows he live yere—! Is he home?
AUNT REBECCA(sullenly)
Don’ know.
LIZZIE
Whar is he—?
AUNT REBECCA
Don’ know.
LIZZIE
Yo’ don’ know nuffin’, d’yo’—?
(Aunt Rebecca stands glaring fiercely at Lizzie. Lucy Belle can be heard in the next room speaking to the children.)
LIZZIE
Lucy Belle’s yere,ain’she—?
AUNT REBECCA(shortly)
I reckon so.
LIZZIE
Tell her I wan’ ter see her.
(Aunt Rebecca hesitates for a moment, then shuffles over toward the door on the left, and goes out. Lizzie swaggers about the room, examining various objects with an expression of sardonic contempt. Presently Lucy Belle enters, Left—falteringly.)
LIZZIE(pausing, hunching herself down on one hip, and gazing at Lucy Belle with an expression of sneering venom)
’Lo Luce!
LUCY BELLE
W’at yo’ wan’—?
LIZZIE(with an explosive, sardonic laugh)
Listen ter yo’—!
LUCY BELLE
I—I done tol’ yo’ dat I don’ know whar Sam is!
LIZZIE(harshly)
Look yere, gal, d’yo’ think yo’ puttin’ somefin’ ovah on me?
LUCY BELLE
Dat’s de Gawd’s truf—I’m tellin’ yo’.
LIZZIE
Tryin’ ter make out he ain’ nevah yere—!
LUCY BELLE
He ain’—! Hones’—
LIZZIE
Yo’ lie—! Yo’ knows whar he is—an’ w’en he come home as well as yo’ standin’ dere—!
LUCY BELLE
I ain’ seen him in Gawd knows w’en—!
LIZZIE
People in de neighborhood tell me dey see him yere ev’y few days—!
LUCY BELLE
Dey crazy—! Shootin’ off dey moufs ’bout somefin’ dey don’ know nuffin’ ’bout—!
LIZZIE
Does yo’ think yo’ gwine ter salt him away—an’ nevah let nobody lay eyes on him agin?
LUCY BELLE
W’at ’ud I be doin’ anathin’ like dat fo’—?
LIZZIE(mockingly)
Yas—w’at would yo’ be doin’ anathin’ like dat fo’—?
LUCY BELLE
Nevah git away wid it—ef I did!
LIZZIE
An’ yo’ ain’ gwine git away wid nuffin’ like dis—neder!
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ don’ know w’at yo’ talkin’ ’bout—!
LIZZIE
I’se knowed Sam as long as yo’ is.
LUCY BELLE
Who say yo’ ain’—?
LIZZIE
Yo’ stan’ dere an’ act like somebody was gwine ter steal him—right from under yo’ nose—!
LUCY BELLE
I don’ know w’at yo’ talkin’ ’bout—!
LIZZIE(mockingly)
No—yo’ don’ know nuffin’—! To yere yo’ talk, yo’d think yo’ owned Sam—got him chain up like a dawg—! Mah soul—! (Vehemently.) Listen ter me, gal—he’s an’ ole frien’-a mine—an’ I wants ter see him—’bout some bus’ness—an’ ef yo’ know w’ats good fo’ yo’—yo’ bettah quit dis lyin’ an’ beatin’ ’roun’ de bush—an’—
(Footsteps and whistling are heard off stage, Back. Lizzie breaks off abruptly and both stand listening. A moment later the door, Back, opens and Slim Dorsey enters. He is a tall, slender, light-colored Negro of about twenty-four. He wears a cap pulled around so that the visor slants over one ear, and an old ragged suit of clothes. He glares at Lizzie and nods.)
SLIM(as he slouches toward Left Center)
’Lo Luce.
LIZZIE(as she sidles toward the door, Back—to Lucy Belle)
Yo’ yered w’at I said—! Dat goes bof ways—an’ all ’roun’ de squah. (With a hand on the doorknob). Jes’ remembah dat I’se knowed yo’ a good while, too. (With drawling, veiled menace.) Is—is yo’ evah tol’ Sam how much yo’ love Jeff Bisbee—?
(Lucy Belle’s body becomes rigid, she clenches her hands, and speaks in a choking voice.)
LUCY BELLE
Yo’—yo’ shet up—!
LIZZIE(with a bellowing, sardonic laugh)
Ha! Ha! Why don’ yo’ tell him someday—?
(She goes out, Back.)
LUCY BELLE(violently)
Damn her! I’se gwine ter break ev’y bone in her body—ef she keep aftah me!
SLIM
W’at’s de mattah—?
LUCY BELLE
She—she de hardes’ ole gal in Wash’nin—
SLIM
Jes’ fin’ dat out—?
LUCY BELLE
Allas gwine ’roun’ makin’ trouble fo’ somebody—!
SLIM
W’at she comin’ at yo’ ’bout—?
LUCY BELLE(slowly gets control of herself—and ponders for a moment)
Oh—oh, nuffin’—!
SLIM
Aftah Sam—ain’ she—?
LUCY BELLE
She think she is—!
SLIM
Bettah watch her—!
LUCY BELLE
Don’ yo’ worry—I is! (She goes to the window, Left Back, and peers out, then turns and comes slowly down to Center.)
SLIM
How is yo’—?
LUCY BELLE
I don’ know—not so good dis week—!
SLIM
Whar Sam—?
LUCY BELLE
Baltimo’—! W’at d’yo’ know—?
SLIM
A lot. (He takes a bag of tobacco and a package of papers from his pocket and proceeds leisurely to roll a cigarette.)
LUCY BELLE
W’at—?
SLIM(as he painstakingly rolls the cigarette)
Seen Jeff dis mawnin’—.
LUCY BELLE(with a gasp)
Jeff—! Jeff Bisbee—!
SLIM(with a nonchalant nod)
Sho’ nuff—!
LUCY BELLE(clutching his arm)
Whar—?
SLIM
Bennings—.
LUCY BELLE
De race track—.
SLIM
Yas.
LUCY BELLE
Did he see yo’—?
SLIM
Sho’ he seen me—!
LUCY BELLE
Say anathin’—?
SLIM(nodding)
Come up an’ grab me.
LUCY BELLE
Gawd sakes—!
SLIM
Wan’ ter know right off whar yo’ is.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ did’n’ tell him—?
SLIM
W’at de hell yo’ take me fo’?
LUCY BELLE
W’at did yo’ do?
SLIM
Tol’ him I did’n’ know nuffin’ ’bout yo’.
LUCY BELLE(gratefully)
Yo’ did, Slim—yo’ did—?
SLIM
W’at yo’ think I is—some kin’-a fool dat has ter be tol’ w’at ter say?
LUCY BELLE
No, no, Slim. But I thought maybe yo’ might-a been scar’t—an’ say somefin’ fo’ yo’ think.
SLIM(with a sneer)
Take somebody mo’ den him ter scare me.
LUCY BELLE
W’at did he do?
SLIM
Say he gwine ter fin’ yo’—he don’ care how long it takes.
LUCY BELLE(with a cry of anguish and indignation)
He bettah lay off me—!
SLIM
Say he gwine ter bus’ hell out-a yo’ ef yo’ don’ come back ter him.
LUCY BELLE
He ain’ gwine ter do nuffin’—!
SLIM
Picks up a fence rail an’ comes at me—kase I would’n’ tell him whar yo’ is—!
LUCY BELLE
Oh, mah Gawd! Hit yo’—?
SLIM(with contempt)
Been in de undertaker’s now ef he had.
LUCY BELLE
Did yo’ bus’ him—?
SLIM
I picks up a brick an’ dares him ter come at me. Mink Hall an’ some of mah oder buddies comes ’long right den an’ he beats it. (With a laugh.) Mink makes a grab fo’ him an’ he jumps th’u’ a stable window.
LUCY BELLE
Ain’ seen or heard-a him fo’ so long—I been hopin’ dat he gone away fo’ good.
SLIM
Been follerin’ de races—norf an’ souf—fo’ de las’ yeah—so he say—an’ jes’ got in town yisterday.
LUCY BELLE
I knows he ain’ been ’roun’ Wash’nin’. (Twining and intertwining her fingers, and her gaze roving abstractedly about.) I don’ care. He ain’ gwine ter do nuffin’. Me an’ Sam’ll be livin’ in Baltimo’ soon—maybe dis time nex’ monf—
SLIM
Watch yo’se’f—.
LUCY BELLE
I sho’ is gwine ter!
SLIM
Don’ go travelin’ roun’ at night by yo’se’f.
LUCY BELLE(shaking her head)
Don’ yo’ worry—I ain’ gwine ter take no chances. (A sudden look of apprehension coming into her face.) He gwine ter beat it right ovah ter Carter Street—
SLIM
Nobody ovah dere know whar yo’ livin’.
LUCY BELLE
Nobody—nobody ’cept—(She breaks off and stares fixedly before her.)
SLIM
Who—?
LUCY BELLE
Lizzie Gibbs.
(Aunt Rebecca enters, Left, and closes the door carefully after her.)
AUNT REBECCA(discovering Slim)
H’yo’, Slim.
SLIM(shortly)
’Lo Aun’ Becky.
AUNT REBECCA
How is yo’?
SLIM
Fine an’ dandy.
AUNT REBECCA(to Lucy Belle)
Done put dem chillen ter bed fo’ yo’.
LUCY BELLE(gratefully, as she goes to her)
Thank yo’, Aun’ Becky,—sartainly mighty good-a yo’.
AUNT REBECCA
Dat’s all right. Israel ’sleep already—
LUCY BELLE
Bof so tired dey could’n’ hardly stan’ up.
(Aunt Rebecca moves toward the door, Back.)
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ ain’ gwine—?
AUNT REBECCA
Mus’, chile. Jes’ drap in on mah way ter de sto’. Oughter been on mah way long fo’ dis.
LUCY BELLE
W’en I see yo’ agin?
AUNT REBECCA
May drap in later on dis evenin’.
LUCY BELLE
Do, honey, please—!
AUNT REBECCA(in a low voice—as they pause at the door)
Did’n’ put nuffin’ ovah on yo’, did she—?
LUCY BELLE
No, indeedy! An’ she ain’ gwine ter!
AUNT REBECCA
Dat’s talkin’! See yo’ some mo’.
LUCY BELLE
Yas, yas. Goodbye.
SLIM
See yo’ some mo’, Aun’ Becky.
AUNT REBECCA
Goodbye. (She goes out, Back.)
(Lucy Belle closes the door and returns, slowly to Center. Slim has dropped into a chair, Right Center, and sits nonchalantly puffing away at his cigarette.)
SLIM(casually)
Luce—
LUCY BELLE
Yas—?
SLIM
I’se broke.
LUCY BELLE
Dat ain’ doin’ me no good.
SLIM
I ain’ had nuffin’ ter eat since dis mawnin’.
LUCY BELLE(irritably)
I kain’t he’p dat.
SLIM
Len’ me a couple-a dollahs.
LUCY BELLE
I ain’ got no money ter len’ ter yo’.
SLIM
Yas, yo’ is—!
LUCY BELLE
Git out an’ git yo’se’f a job.
SLIM
I is got a job.
LUCY BELLE(incredulously)
Whar—?
SLIM
At de race track.
LUCY BELLE
W’at doin’—?
SLIM
Feedin’ hosses an’ rubbin’ ’em down.
LUCY BELLE
Den w’at yo’ come ’roun’ yere askin’ me fo’ money—?
SLIM
I only had it free days—an’ dey don’ pay till Saturday.
LUCY BELLE
I give yo’ a couple-a dollahs las’ Monday.
SLIM
Yo’ ’spec’ dat ter las’ me a week?
LUCY BELLE
I keeps givin’ yo’ money an’ givin’ yo’ money an’ yo’ ain’ nevah pay me back a nickel.
SLIM
I been playin’ in hard luck.
LUCY BELLE
So is I.
SLIM(rising)
Yo’ got money.
LUCY BELLE
Don’ make no difference weder I is or weder I ain’—.
SLIM
Ain’ I jes’ tol’ yo’ ’bout Jeff Bisbee—?
LUCY BELLE
No mo’ den yo’ had a right ter do!
SLIM
I did’n’ haf ter boder ’bout comin’ in yere.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ be de meanes’ niggah in Wash’nin’ ef yo’ had’n’!
SLIM
Go on—he’p me out dis time.
LUCY BELLE
I tol’ yo’ Monday dat I ain’ gwine ter give yo’ no mo’ money!
SLIM(hotly)
De nex’ time I keep mah mouf shet!
LUCY BELLE(angrily)
Keep it shet!
SLIM
Yo’ damn right I will!
LUCY BELLE
An’ keep yo’ face out-a dis house! (Harshly, as she surveys him with a glare.) Yo’ ain’ nevah done nuffin’ fo’ me—nuffin’ at all!
SLIM
Yo’ lie—! Ef it had’n’ been fo’ me yo’ been cleaned up a dozen times.
LUCY BELLE(with a derisive laugh)
Listen ter yo’!
SLIM
W’at ’bout dat time yo’s sick—?
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ wuk fo’ a week—an’ buy de stuff we eat. Nevah give me a cent!
SLIM
Yo’ died ef it had’n’ been fo’ me!
LUCY BELLE
Been sick a dozen times since den an’ yo’ ain’ raised a han’ ter he’p me! (Harshly.) Yo’ ain’ no good, Slim—an’ yo’ ain’ nevah gwine ter be no good—’less yo’ change mighty quick. Yo’ nevah keeps a job ovah a week. All yo’ is good fo’ is ter guzzle gin, shoot crap an’ chase gals—
SLIM
Go on blackguardin’ me—ef yo’ lookin’ fo’ trouble!
LUCY BELLE
I’se tellin’ de truf—an’ yo’ knows I is!
SLIM(loudly)
I tol’ yo’ I ain’ had nuffin’ ter eat since dis mawnin’.
LUCY BELLE
I’ll go down ter de sto’ an’ git some stuff.
SLIM
I ain’ got time ter hang ’roun’ yere while yo’ cooks it.
LUCY BELLE
All yo’ wan’s dat two dollahs fo’ is ter git in a crap game.
SLIM(advancing toward her menacingly)
Gimme some money!
LUCY BELLE(defiantly)
Nuffin’ doin’!
SLIM