The same as Act I—one year later. Early afternoon.A moment after the rise of the curtain Lucy Belle enters, Left, carrying her hat and jacket. She advances to Center and lays them on the table. Her walk is listless and her eyes are bright with nervous fatigue. She glances at the alarm clock which stands on top of the cupboard, Left Center. The hands point to half-past twelve. She drops down in a chair to the left of the table and stares dismally before her. Presently she rests her elbows on her knees, bends forward, covers her face with her hands and gives way to a series of dry, racking sobs.
The same as Act I—one year later. Early afternoon.
A moment after the rise of the curtain Lucy Belle enters, Left, carrying her hat and jacket. She advances to Center and lays them on the table. Her walk is listless and her eyes are bright with nervous fatigue. She glances at the alarm clock which stands on top of the cupboard, Left Center. The hands point to half-past twelve. She drops down in a chair to the left of the table and stares dismally before her. Presently she rests her elbows on her knees, bends forward, covers her face with her hands and gives way to a series of dry, racking sobs.
LUCY BELLE(looking up eventually with a face full of woe)
Sam! Mah ole Sam-boy—come back ter me! Ain’ yo’ evah gwine ter come back? Honey-baby! Mah own honey-baby, buddy boy!
(From off stage, Right, as though proceeding from the upstairs room come the weird, discordant, thin strains of a hymn played on an old wheezy organ, and an old Negro can be heard singing it in deep, unsteady tones. Lucy Belle becomes momentarily composed and sits listening as though the music soothed her. In the course of several moments she rises, goes to the mirror which hangs on the wall, Right, and stands before it wiping her eyes and adjusting her hair.
Presently the music stops, and someone can be heard coming slowly and heavily down the stairs, Right. Abruptly the door, Right, opens and old man Pocher enters. He is a very old Negro with white hair and a face seamed with wrinkles. His back is quite bent and he walks with the aid of a heavy, gnarled stick. His manner is a combination of the patriarchal-Calvinistic, and that of the homely, old, ante-bellum house servant. He wears an old black suit of clothes, green with age, and carries an old and very dusty felt hat.)
LUCY BELLE
H’yo’, Mistah Pocher!
POCHER
Howdy, chile—howdy! Ain’ yo’ wukkin’ terday?
LUCY BELLE
Sho’! Jes’ home fo’ a lil’ while. Gwine back d’rectly.
POCHER(with stern resentment)
Dem boys skylarkin’ agin las’ night—!
LUCY BELLE
Gawd sakes—!
POCHER
Put salt on de do’step—!
LUCY BELLE
De dirty devils—!
POCHER
Secon’ time dis week! Wust neighborhood I’se evah in!
LUCY BELLE
’Deed I’se gwine ter stay home ternight an’ git ’em.
POCHER(fiercely)
Git so many evil sparits ’roun’ dat dey choke yo’ ter deaf in yo’ sleep.
LUCY BELLE
Ef dey don’ stop I’se gwine ter put depo-lice on ’em.
POCHER
Dey wuk on me night fo’ las’—
LUCY BELLE
Who?
POCHER
Evil sparits! Wuk on me till I kain’t hardly breafe. Yo’ yere me wrestlin’ wid ’em?
LUCY BELLE
Gawd, no!
POCHER
Ain’ gwine ter put up wid it no longer.
LUCY BELLE
’Deed I don’ want yo’ ter, Mistah Pocher.
POCHER(vehemently)
Ain’ gwine ter! All dey is ’bout it!
LUCY BELLE
Boys in dis alley ain’ had no bringin’ up.
POCHER(advancing to the door, Back)
Salt on de do’step wust thin’ in de worl’ ter bring evil sparits ’roun’.
LUCY BELLE
Yas, indeedy! I knows it is.
POCHER(at the door, Back)
Gwine down ter de sto’. Reckon I be right back.
LUCY BELLE(nodding)
Make up yo’ bed fo’ yo’ d’rectly.
(Pocher nods and grunts and goes out, Back, closing the door after him. Lucy Belle stands for a moment, pondering, and a thin smile plays over her face. At length she turns and moves listlessly toward the door, Right. As she reaches there, comes the sound of boyish shouts and laughter and the shuffling of feet about the door, Back. Lucy Belle pauses and listens. She scowls darkly, hurries to the door, and throws it open. This is followed immediately by the clatter of scurrying feet and taunting shouts as those who were about the door run rapidly down the alley.)
LUCY BELLE(standing in the doorway and shouting angrily after them)
I seen yo’ Jack Kramer! Yo’ too, Lippy an’ Mule! Keep away from yere or I’se gwine ter wring yo’ damn necks! Yas, yo’s—Lippy! I ain’ scar’t of none-a yo’! Quit skylarkin’ ’roun’ dis door! Sweah out-a warran’ fo’ yo’, too!
(She stands glaring off Left at them. Slim suddenly appears from Right.)
SLIM
H’yo’, Luce!
LUCY BELLE(shortly, as she steps back into the room)
’Lo, Slim.
SLIM(entering, Back, and noting her ill-humor)
W’at’s de mattah?
LUCY BELLE(closing the door)
Oh, dat Jack an’ Lippy an’ Mule is allas skylarkin’ ’roun’ mah do’.
SLIM
Tryin’ ter git back at yo’?
LUCY BELLE(shaking her head)
Makin’ out ter plague ole man Pocher.
SLIM
Git somefin’ on him?
LUCY BELLE(nodding)
Gits wise dat he scar’t ter deaf ob evil sparits—an’ bein’ conjuhed.
SLIM
Sho’ nuff!
LUCY BELLE
Lil’ while aftah he rents dis room—an’ been aftah him evah since. Puts salt on de do’step an’ ev’thin’ like dat.
SLIM
Bus’ ’em in de haid.
LUCY BELLE
Do wuss’ an dat ef dey keeps on.
SLIM
Clean up fo’ ’em!
LUCY BELLE
I sho’ gwine ter ef dey don’ lay off him! (In tones of pondering indignation and protest.) Dat room is hard ter rent. Ole man Pocher is kep’ it longer den anabody. (Slim nods.) Two mon’s dere could’n’ rent it at all—an’ ole Jennie Wurmser goes off owin’ me fo’ five weeks.
SLIM
How long Pocher been yere?
LUCY BELLE
Free mon’s.
SLIM
He sing too much.
LUCY BELLE
Ain’ boderin’ ’bout dat so long as I gits mah money ev’y Monday mawnin’.
SLIM
Whar he git his money?
LUCY BELLE
Son in New York send it ter him. I couldn’ hardly git by now widout somefin’ like dat comin’ in reg’lar ev’y week.
SLIM
Wukkin’ now?
LUCY BELLE
Sho’ I’se wukkin!
SLIM
Whar?
LUCY BELLE
Fo’ Moy Wing—up on Seventh Street.
SLIM
Chink—? (Lucy Belle nods.) W’at doin’?
LUCY BELLE
Washin’ an’ iron’. W’at yo’ think?
SLIM
Steady?
LUCY BELLE
Free times a week—Monday, We’nesday, an’ Friday.
SLIM
Dat ain’ no kin’-a job.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ go out an’ git me a bettah one.
SLIM(with a laugh)
Sho’—!
LUCY BELLE
An’ git yo’se’f one an’ keep it.
SLIM
Been in hospital.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ ain’ dere now.
SLIM
I git one quick ’nuff. Don’ yo’ worry.
LUCY BELLE
Git it!
SLIM
Dem Chinks is crazy ’bout Niggahs an’ white people’s hearts.
LUCY BELLE
Go ’long!
SLIM
Sho! Dey kills yo’, cuts out yo’ heart, an’ eats it. Ef yo’ eats a heart nobody kin cunjuh yo’—an’ each one dat yo’ eat give yo’ a yeah’s luck.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ crazy! I knowed Moy Wing ’long time.
SLIM
Kain’t trus’ none ob ’em.
LUCY BELLE
I ain’ scar’t-a him. He ain’ gwine ter do nuffin’ ter me. (Shakes her head.) Onlies’ kin’-a job dat do fo’ me right now.
SLIM
How yo’ make dat out?
LUCY BELLE
Kain’t stay ’way from de chillen all de time. (Sighs and drops down in a chair. Draws a hand across her forehead.) Gawd—!
SLIM
W’at’s de mattah?
LUCY BELLE
I’se tired. Wash dis mawnin’. Got ter go back dis aftahnoon an’ iron.
SLIM
Wuk yo’ ter deaf.
LUCY BELLE
Be twict as hard ef I’se wukkin’ ev’y day. (With a little wistful cry.) Ef—ef Sam was only yere—den—den I would’n’ care how hard I haf ter wuk—or ’bout nuffin’—(Staring abstractedly into space.) Be a yeah de fust-a nex’ monf since he wen’ ter jail.
SLIM
Sho’ nuff—!
LUCY BELLE(shaking her head)
Seem like five yeahs.
(Pause. Lucy Belle sits staring into space. Slim nonchalantly rolls a cigarette.)
SLIM
W’at become ob Jeff?
LUCY BELLE
I don’ know. Dey nevah done nuffin’ ter him. He was in de hospital fo’ a while. He lef’ town soon as he gits out an’ I ain’ nevah seen him since.
SLIM(at length, as he lights the cigarette)
How long is Sam up fo’?
LUCY BELLE
Fo’ yeahs—!
SLIM
Maybe he git out sooner—fo’ bein’ good. Kain’t tell.
LUCY BELLE(jumping up with an eager cry and searching his face)
Yo’—yo’ think so, Slim?
SLIM
Dey does sometimes.
LUCY BELLE
How—how soon yo’ think dey let him out?
SLIM
Don’ know. Yo’ nevah kain tell.
LUCY BELLE
Maybe in anoder yeah?
SLIM
Ef he have any luck.
LUCY BELLE(clasping her hands tightly together and raising her eyes heavenward)
Oh, Gawd! Ef he only do—! I kin make out fo’ ’noder yeah ef I keeps wukkin’ fo’ Moy—an’ washin’ extra yere at home like I is—an’ ef I keeps de room rented right ’long.
SLIM
Yo’ ain’ gwine ter have no trouble.
LUCY BELLE
Ef Pocher only keep dat room an’ pay me reg’lar. (Old man Pocher is heard grumbling and grunting to himself immediately outside the door, off stage, Back.) Yere he come now!
(The door, Back, opens and Pocher enters, carrying a small package under his arms. He stands in the doorway and points angrily with his cane at the doorstep.)
POCHER
Look dere! Look! Yo’ see—!
LUCY BELLE
W’at—?
POCHER(trembling with anger and fear)
Salt on de do’step agin!
LUCY BELLE
Gawd sakes!
POCHER
Tol’ yo’ I was’n’ gwine ter put up wid it no longer!
LUCY BELLE
I did’n’ know dey done it.
POCHER
Yo’ bus’ness ter watch ’em!
LUCY BELLE
I does try ter.
POCHER
Oughter put depo-lice on ’em long ’go.
LUCY BELLE
Gwine ter—right ’way. Ain’ gwine ter wait ’noder minute.
POCHER
Turrible! Turrible!
LUCY BELLE
I knows, Mistah Pocher—but—
POCHER
Third time in de las’ two days.
LUCY BELLE(nodding)
—but, yo’ see, wid de chillen an’ mah oder wuk—
POCHER
Kain’t he’p dat—!
LUCY BELLE
Kain’t allas be stickin’ mah haid out dat do’.
POCHER
Nevah seen nuffin’ like it.
LUCY BELLE
Yas, yas—! I’se gwine ter sweep it right off. (She goes to the closet door, up Left, opens it, takes out a broom, closes the door and goes quickly to the doorway, Back, where she stands sweeping off the doorstep.)
POCHER
De spell done wuk.
LUCY BELLE(as she sweeps)
Yo’ reckon so?
POCHER
It wuk ef de salt stay dere two secon’s.
LUCY BELLE
’Deed, I’se sorry, Mistah Pocher.
POCHER
Nuffin’ kin stop ’em rizin’ up now.
LUCY BELLE
Dem boys ain’ gwine ter git neah dis do’ agin.
POCHER
Dey riz up an’ riz up on yo’ till de spell done break.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ see, I don’ yere ’em ha’f de time—evenw’en I’se home. Dey slips up on de sly an’ draps it on.
POCHER
Yo’ wan’ ter die?
LUCY BELLE(pausing in her work and turning)
No, no—Mistah Pocher.
POCHER
Dem evil sparits git ter wukkin’ on yo’ in yo’ sleep—
LUCY BELLE
I know, I know—
POCHER
Liable ter choke yo’ ter deaf.
LUCY BELLE
Sho’ don’ wan’ nuffin’ like dat ter happen.
POCHER
Salt on de do’step draw ’em like syrup do flies.
LUCY BELLE
I know, I know—
POCHER(shuffling over to the door, Right)
Ain’ gwine ter put up wid it no longer!
LUCY BELLE
I’se gwine ter do mah bes’ ter stop ’em.
POCHER(vehemently)
Ain’ gwine ter put up wid it no longer! (He goes out, Right.)
LUCY BELLE(her gaze remaining ruefully fixed on the door, Right)
Ain’ dat de limit? Gawd—!
SLIM
Damn ole fool.
LUCY BELLE
I sartainly gwine ter make trouble fo’ somebody in dis alley.
(She turns to the doorway again and completes the task of sweeping off the steps. This done she closes the door, crosses thoughtfully to closet, places the broom in it, then comes down to Left Center. Slim stands, Right Center, puffing away at his cigarette.)
LUCY BELLE(abstractedly)
Dey gittin’ wuss lately.
SLIM
Done tol’ yo’ w’at ter do.
(Lucy Belle gives a little nod and stands lost in thought. Slim regards her with a look of sly, calculating appraisal.)
SLIM(at length)
Luce—.
LUCY BELLE
Yas—?
SLIM
He’p me out a lil’—?
LUCY BELLE
W’at yo’ mean?
SLIM
Lemme eat yere fo’ a few days.
LUCY BELLE
Eat yere—!
SLIM
Jes’ till I gits on mah feet.
LUCY BELLE(tartly facetious)
W’at yo’ standin’ on—yo’ han’s?
SLIM
Gwine ter take me a week ter git goin’.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ mean a monf.
SLIM
Lay off me wid dat kin’-a talk.
LUCY BELLE
Nuffin’ doin’—!
SLIM
Luce—please—
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ yered w’at I say.
SLIM
I’se only jes’ out-a de hospital—
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ own fault yo’ wen’ dere.
SLIM
Yo’ lie—!
LUCY BELLE
Git in a fight in Messer’s stable—an’ somebody bus’ yo’ ovah de haid wid a stick.
SLIM
Who say I did?
LUCY BELLE
I yered all ’bout it.
SLIM
Nevah raise a han’—.
LUCY BELLE
Dat’s wa’t yo’ say.
SLIM
Gawd’s truf! Nevah done a thin’. Dick Simpsonan’ Mink Hall start ter fight—an’ fust thin’ I knows somebody bus’ me—
LUCY BELLE
I ain’ carin’ ’bout w’at happen—all I knows—
SLIM
Luce—
LUCY BELLE
Done feed yo’ all I’se gwine ter!
SLIM
Wan’ me ter starve?
LUCY BELLE
Git out an’ hussle—now. Yo’s a lot bettah able den I is.
SLIM(harshly reproachful)
Gittin’ hard as hell, ain’ yo?
LUCY BELLE
I reckon I’se gittin’ wise in mah ole age.
SLIM
Len’ me a dollah, den.
LUCY BELLE
Len’ yo’ nuffin’, Slim.
SLIM
Fifty cents—!
LUCY BELLE(emphatically, as she shakes her head)
No—!
SLIM
Keep me gwine till termorrer.
LUCY BELLE
Nuffin’ doin’.
SLIM(clenching his fists and coming toward her menacingly)
Yo’ bettah by a damn sight change yo’ min’!
LUCY BELLE(backing away)
Yo’ keep ’way from me, Slim Dorsey!
SLIM(with a savage shout)
Gimme a dollah—!
LUCY BELLE(stopping abruptly and standing her ground squarely)
Die fo’ I give yo’ ’noder cent! (He leans forward as though to lunge at her. She steps back a pace.) Don’ yo’ dare lay a han’ on me! Don’ yo’ dare! I’se gwine ter yell “Po-lice!” an’ “Murder!” ef yo’ tech me—!
(Old man Pocher is heard coming heavily down the stairs, Right. Both Slim and Lucy Belle turn and listen.)
LUCY BELLE
Sen’ ole man Pocher out fo’ he’p.
(Slim hesitates for a moment or two, then turns and slinks to the door, Back.)
SLIM(turning at the door)
I git yo’ fo’ dis!
LUCY BELLE(defiantly)
Git me!
(She turns and stands listening as Pocher descends the stairs. At length the door, Right, opens and the old man enters carrying a very old black leather portmanteau—so old and battered and scarred that it looks as though it were about to fall to pieces. There is fiery resolve in Pocher’s eyes. He gives Lucy Belle a sharp glance and makes directly for the door, Back.)
LUCY BELLE(hesitatingly)
H’yo’, Mistah Pocher—!
POCHER(halting and glaring at her)
W’at—?
LUCY BELLE
Yo’—yo’ gwine ’way?
POCHER
Sho’ I’se gwine ’way.
LUCY BELLE
Visit yo’ son—?
POCHER(fiercely)
I’se gwine ter leave dis place fo’ good.
LUCY BELLE
Leave—fo’ good—!
POCHER
Tol’ yo’ I was’n’ gwine ter put up wid dat nonsense no longer.
LUCY BELLE
Oh, but, Mistah Pocher—
POCHER
Had er vision dat somebody gwine ter make dem evil sparits riz up on me agin. Pack mah valise dis mawnin’ ter be ready.
LUCY BELLE
I ain’ gwine ter let it happen agin.
POCHER
Yo’ say dat befo’.
LUCY BELLE
Gwine ter de station right dis minute an’ put depo-lice on ’em.
POCHER
Kin feel dem sparits wukkin’ on me now.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ kin break de spell.
POCHER
I’se gwine ter break it by gittin’ ’way.
LUCY BELLE
Please, Mistah Pocher—don’ go off like dis—
POCHER(taking a step or two toward the door)
Kain’t stan’ it yere no longer.
LUCY BELLE
Gimme anoder chanct.
POCHER(pausing)
Warn yo’ ha’f er dozen times.
LUCY BELLE
I know—I know—
POCHER(proceeding toward the door)
Mus’ live in peace—an’ de presence ob de sparit ob de Lawd!
LUCY BELLE
Mistah Pocher—!
POCHER(turning and speaking in fierce tones as he reaches the door)
Hush yo’ talk! Done made up mah min’ ter leave dis place! Nuffin’ gwine ter stop me!
LUCY BELLE(pulling herself together and speaking in resigned tones)
Ef—ef yo’ feels dat way ’bout it—I reckon dey ain’ no use.
POCHER
I sen’ mah nephew—Joe Davis—’roun’ fo’ mah organ.
LUCY BELLE
All right.
POCHER
Reckon he’ll come ’roun’ termorrer wid his wagon.
LUCY BELLE
Gwine ter pay me?
POCHER
Pay yo’ fo’ w’at?
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ been yere free days dis week.
(He glares at her, gives a snort, drops the portmanteau, thrusts a hand down in his pocket and brings out a small, soiled bag, tied at the top with a string. He unties the string, fumbles around in the bag, finally pulls out a dirty, torn one-dollar bill.)
POCHER(holding it out to her)
Yere.
LUCY BELLE(advancing and taking it)
T-thanks. Might—mighty sorry yo’ gwine off—like dis.
(Pocher gives an impatient grunt and mumbles something to himself. He returns the bag to his pocket, picks up his portmanteau and opens the door.)
LUCY BELLE
Goodbye.
POCHER(shortly)
Goodbye. (He goes out, Back, closing the door after him.)
(Lucy Belle gives a little despairing sigh, then returns slowly to Center, where she halts and standsstaring—somewhat abstractedly—down at the bill in her hand. Slim appears at the window, Left Back, and peers in. At length Lucy Belle goes to the cupboard on the Left, opens one of the top doors, removes the lid from a crockery jar, reaches down in it, and takes out her pocket book. She opens the pocket book, extracts three one dollar bills, counts them carefully, places the one she has just received with them and returns them all to the pocket book. Slim’s face disappears from the window, Left Back. Lucy Belle comes thoughtfully back to Center with the pocket book still in her hand. At this juncture Israel and Fanny dash in, Back.)
ISRAEL
Mamma! Mamma!
LUCY BELLE
W’at yo’ wan’ now?
FANNY
Mamma—!
ISRAEL
Mamma, I’se hangry!
LUCY BELLE
Did I call yo’?
FANNY
No, but—
LUCY BELLE
Stay out dere an’ play till I calls yo’!
FANNY
I’se hangry!
LUCY BELLE(displaying the pocket book)
I’se gwine down ter de mawket in jes a minute.
FANNY
W’en we gwine ter have dinnah?
LUCY BELLE(impatiently)
Jes’ as soon as I kin cook it.
ISRAEL
Mamma—!
LUCY BELLE(angrily)
Shet up, now—bof-a yo’! Wan’ me ter lock yo’ up? (Israel begins to whimper.) Yo’ yere me? Go on out dere an’ play! (The children hesitate.) Go ’long! Wan’ me ter beat yo’? (They both scamper to the door, Back.) Min’ yo’ don’ go out-a dis alley!
(They go out, Back, banging the door shut after them. She drops her pocket book on the table, picks up her coat and puts it on. A light knock sounds on the door, Back. She starts to answer the door, but halts abruptly and a look of suspicion comes over her face. Her eyes light upon the pocket book. She picks it up, goes to the cupboard, Left, drops it in the crockery jar, puts the lid on, closes the cupboard door and hurries to the door, Back. Just as she reaches it, the knock sounds again. She opens it. Chick Avery stands outside.)
LUCY BELLE
Chick—!
CHICK(making an obsequious bow)
Dat’s me!
LUCY BELLE
Come in!
(He enters, carrying a suit case, which he depositsnear the door. He looks a little more spruce than in the preceding act and carries himself with a decidedly prosperous air. Lucy Belle closes the door, and they both come down to Center.)
CHICK
De boat jes’ git in.
LUCY BELLE
It did—?
CHICK
Mighty good ter see yo’ agin.
LUCY BELLE(with a coy toss of her head)
Go ’long!
CHICK
On mah way ter de Gran’ Imperial.
LUCY BELLE(trying to place the name)
Gran’ Imperial—!
CHICK
Colored hotel ovah yere on M Street.
LUCY BELLE
Oh—de one Jim Mumbly keep!
CHICK(nodding)
Yas.
LUCY BELLE
Uster be de Johnson House.
CHICK(with a laugh)
Yas, yas. Change its name ev’y monf.
LUCY BELLE
Is yo’ stoppin’ dere, now?
CHICK
Jes’ now an’ den. Git tired gwine ’way out ter mah broder’s in G’orgetown ev’y time I’se intown. Min’ ef I leave dis suit case yere till I see ef dey got a room at de hotel?
LUCY BELLE
No, indeedy!
CHICK
Ef dey is, I’ll sen’ a boy ovah fo’ it—ef dey ain’, I’ll drap back an’ git it an’ go on out ter G’orgetown,—’less yo’ wan’ ter put me up yere.
LUCY BELLE
W’at yo’ talkin’ ’bout?
CHICK(sitting on the edge of the table)
Jes’ met ole man Pocher gwine down de line.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ did—!
CHICK
Say he jes’ give up his room.
LUCY BELLE(removing her jacket and throwing it over the back of a chair)
I reckon he tol’ yo’ de truf.
CHICK
W’at’s de mattah?
LUCY BELLE
Boys in de alley keep aftah him all de time. Pesters him ter deaf. Puts salt on de do’step an’ ev’ythin’ like dat.
CHICK
Go ’long!
LUCY BELLE
Done ev’ythin’ dey could ter git his goat.
CHICK
Hard bunch, ain’ dey?
LUCY BELLE
’Deed dey is—an’ I ain’ had no time ter lay fo’ ’em.
CHICK
Mighty sorry yo’ havin’ dis trouble. Ef dey’s any way I kin he’p yo’ clean up fo’ ’em, lemme know.
LUCY BELLE
Ain’ nuffin’ yo’ kin do. I oughter put depo-lice on ’em—but, yo’ knows, dat gwine ter make all kin’-a trouble fo’ me. (He nods.) Dere people ’ud blackguard me—an’ raise hell.
CHICK
Why don’ yo’ move?
LUCY BELLE(shaking her head)
Kain’t right now.
CHICK
Gwine ter keep on rentin’ it?
LUCY BELLE
W’at—?
CHICK
De room.
LUCY BELLE
Sho’—!
CHICK
Got anabody fo’ it?
LUCY BELLE(irritated by the assumption she should act so quickly)
W’at yo’ spec’? He only jes’ give it up.
CHICK
Lemme have it.
LUCY BELLE(measuring him with a withering glare)
Fo’ Gawd sakes—! Listen ter yo’—!
CHICK
Go ahaid!
LUCY BELLE
Is yo’ crazy—?
CHICK
I only be in it free days a week—an’ I’ll pay yo’ twict as much as Pocher.
LUCY BELLE
Don’ care ef yo’ pays me five times as much.
CHICK
W’at’s de mattah wid yo’? I ain’ got smallpox or nuffin’ like dat—
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ knows I ain’ gwine ter let yo’ have dat room.
CHICK
Don’ like mah looks—huh?
LUCY BELLE(With a laugh)
Sho’—dat’s it. Waitin’ fo’ a bettah lookin’ man ter come ’long.
CHICK(with an explosive laugh)
Nevah did have no luck wid de ladies.
LUCY BELLE(in the same spirit)
Ain’ gwine ter till yo’ git anoder face.
(Chick nods and chuckles.)
CHICK(at length, seriously)
Luce—listen ter me—
LUCY BELLE
Chick Avery, lay off wid dat nonsense—
CHICK
I gits so lonesome—
LUCY BELLE(shaking her head and scowling)
Nuffin’ doin’.
CHICK
Jes’ till I fin’s a room ’roun’ dis neighborhood dat suit me.
LUCY BELLE(with mock ferocity)
Yo’ wan’ me ter bus’ yo’ in de eye?
CHICK
Ain’ I yo’ frien’—?
LUCY BELLE(nodding)
Sho’ yo’ is! An’ I wan’s yo’ ter stay mah frien’.
(Chick grins and shakes his head, as though he regarded her as an extremely difficult person to understand.)
CHICK(breaking into song)
“Yo’ kin break mah bones,Wid sticks an’ stones,But I’se gwine ter live anahow till I die.”
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ oughter be singin’ fo’ a livin’—’stead-a barbarin’.
CHICK
Dat’s w’at ev’body tell me.
(They both laugh explosively. Lucy Belle sits down.)
CHICK(at length)
Enjoyed yo’se’f at dat dance at de Mawnin’ Star, did’n’ yo’?
LUCY BELLE
Sho’ did—!
CHICK
Glad yo’ wen’, now, ain’ yo’?
LUCY BELLE
I reckon so.
CHICK
Yo’ knows so!
LUCY BELLE
Anaway yo’ says.
CHICK
Had ter beg yo’ long nuff ter git yo’ ter go.
LUCY BELLE
I was’n’ feelin’ so good jes’ den.
CHICK
’Noder dance up dere Saturday night.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ don’ say—
CHICK
Big or-kestra an’ plenty ter drink.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ gwine—?
CHICK
Sho’! Wan’ ter go?
LUCY BELLE
Kain’t.
CHICK(impatiently)
Sho’ yo’ kin. (She shakes her head.) W’at’s de mattah wid yo’?
LUCY BELLE
Not dis time.
CHICK
Why not? Is yo’ sick?
LUCY BELLE
I ain’ feelin’ jes’ right.
CHICK
Dat’s wa’t yo’ needs—ter git out an’ have a good time.
LUCY BELLE
I know—
CHICK
Yo’ wan’ ter quit wukkin’ so steady.
LUCY BELLE
Tell me somefin’ I don’ know.
CHICK
Why don’ yo’—?
LUCY BELLE
Why don’ I quit breafin’?
CHICK
Yo’ look ten yeahs younger at dat las’ dance.
LUCY BELLE(with a deprecating laugh)
Wish I thought so.
CHICK
I’m tellin’ yo’ so!
LUCY BELLE
Did’n’ feel no ten yeahs younger w’en I gits out on dat flo’.
CHICK
’Noder one up dere free weeks from nex’ Saturday.
LUCY BELLE
Dat so?
CHICK
Come on an’ go ter dat.
LUCY BELLE(rising)
Kain’t, Chick.
CHICK(sliding off the table)
Gwine ter stick home yere—all de time?
LUCY BELLE
Right now, I is.
CHICK
Luce—is yo’ sore at me?
LUCY BELLE
No—no, indeedy, Chick.
CHICK
Den w’at’s de mattah?
LUCY BELLE
Nuffin’—nuffin’ at all. Only I jes’ don’ wan’ ter go nowhars—fo’ a while.
CHICK
An’ yo’ don’ wan’ me ter show yo’ a good time? (She shakes her head.) Or he’p yo’ out a lil’—?
LUCY BELLE
Don’ wan’ nobody ter he’p me out!
(Chick springs over to her side and takes her forcibly in his arms.)
LUCY BELLE
Chick! Stop! Oh, mah Gawd—! Yo’—!
CHICK
Yo’ mine—mine—!
LUCY BELLE(struggling frantically to free herself)
Lemme go, Chick—! Chick! Stop—!
CHICK
Mah lil’ budigee—! Yas, yo’ is! Ain’ yo’ mine! Damn yo’, say yo’s mine!
LUCY BELLE
Lemme go! Yo’ wan’ me ter yell, “Po-lice!”
CHICK(savagely)
Yo’ ain’ gwine ter yell nuffin’! (His armstighten about her.) Gimme a kiss! Come on! Yo’ yere me?
LUCY BELLE(turning her head away and protesting between gasps)
Chick! Yo’ killin’ me—!
CHICK
Kiss me—lovah! Yo’ yere—! Kiss me!
LUCY BELLE