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, Left[12]
Center. 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 de po-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’ know
how 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 de po-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 stuck
ter 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 he
git, 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 de po-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 de po-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 staring[27]
into 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. Aunt[28]
Rebecca 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
Gimme it! Yo’ yere—?
LUCY BELLE
I give yo’ nuffin’!
SLIM (grabbing her by the wrist)
Come on! Gimme two dollahs!
LUCY BELLE (fiercely)
No, no—! Slim—le’ go! W’at’s de mattah wid
yo’! Le’ go!
SLIM
Gimme it, or I’ll twis’ yo’ damn arm off! (He
slowly twists her wrist.)
LUCY BELLE (crying out in pain and fright)
Oh, mah Gawd! Slim! Slim! Stop—! Le’go!
Don’—I’ll kill yo’ fo’ dis!
SLIM (between his teeth)
Git it! Git it!
LUCY BELLE
Slim! Fo’ Gawd’s sake! Oh, mah soul—don’—don’—(Writhing
with torture, she sinks to her
knees.)
SLIM
Yo’ wan’ me ter twis’ it off—?
LUCY BELLE (choking with pain)
A-all right—Stop! All right, Slim. I’ll git it fo’
yo’!
SLIM
Will yo’—?
LUCY BELLE
Yas, yas. Stop—please—! Lemme up—lemme
up—Slim—
(He slowly turns her wrist back to normal and
relaxing his grip somewhat allows her to rise.
She stands limp and dazed for several moments, as
though endeavoring to pull herself together. She
draws her free hand slowly across her forehead.)
SLIM (with savage impatience)
Come on!
(He tightens his hold somewhat. She gives a little
cry of pain, and her knees give. With Slim still
gripping her wrist, she moves unsteadily to table,
Center.)
LUCY BELLE
All right—all right, Slim. I’ll git it fo’ yo’—.
(He drops her wrist. She opens the small drawer
of the table and takes out an old and worn leather
pocket book. She extracts two one-dollar bills,
hands them to him, then deftly stuffs the pocket
book down in one of her stockings. Slim jams the
bills into his pocket, turns and moves swiftly to the
door, Back, and goes out.)
LUCY BELLE (crying out after him)
Yo’s a dirty dog! I—I’ll git yo’ fo’ dat—!
(Lucy Belle sinks down into a chair and covers
her face with her hands. She looks up once and
her face presents the picture of fierce, tearful rage.
Presently a knock sounds on the door, Back.
Lucy Belle jumps up with a start. The knock
sounds again.)
LUCY BELLE (in faltering tones)
Come in!
(The door opens and Chick Avery enters. He is a
weak-faced, but passably good-looking mulatto, of
about thirty-five. He wears a suit of smart clothes,
somewhat the worse for wear. His feet are encased
in a pair of patent leather shoes which are slit about[44]
the toes to relieve the pressure on those members.
He is partially bald, but what remains of his
straight, jet-black hair is shiny from the generous
use of hair oil, and is carefully brushed to cover
the bald spots as much as possible. His manner
for the most part, is extremely urbane and, by fits
and starts, exuberantly mirthful.)
CHICK (doing a sort of clog dance toward her)
H’yo’, Luce—!
LUCY BELLE (exclaiming in mild surprise)
Why—why, ’lo, Chick—!
CHICK
How’s de baby—?
LUCY BELLE
Pretty good, I reckon.
CHICK
All by yo’ lonesome—?
LUCY BELLE
Look like it, don’ it?
CHICK
W’at d’yo’ know—?
LUCY BELLE
Nuffin’ much—! (He puts his arm around her
and attempts to draw her to him.) Stop yo’
foolin’—! (She pulls away from him.)
CHICK
Ain’ yo’ got a kiss fo’ me?
LUCY BELLE
I’ll bus’ yo’ in de nose, Chick Avery!
CHICK
Mah soul, but yo’ gittin’ skittish—! How much
dey cos’ now?
LUCY BELLE
Mo’ den yo’ kin pay.
CHICK (with an explosive laugh)
Sam got yo’ gwine, ain’ he?
LUCY BELLE
Good thin’s come high.
CHICK
Yo’ said somefin’! (Sitting on the edge of the
table.) How he makin’ out in Baltimo’—?
LUCY BELLE
Who—?
CHICK
Sam.
LUCY BELLE
Oh—oh, he ain’ makin’ out so bad.
CHICK
Git home often?
LUCY BELLE
Onct or twict a week—depen’s on hard dey’s
wukkin’ him.
CHICK
An’ yo’ stick home an’ wuks yo’ haid off.
LUCY BELLE (shortly)
I does mah share.
CHICK
Nevah seen yo’ lately w’en yo’ was’n’ played
out from wukkin’ yo’ haid off.
LUCY BELLE (querulously)
None-a yo’ bus’ness how hard I wuks!
(Sharply.) W’at yo’ doin’ now?
CHICK
Barbarin’. Jes’ git a job on de Norfolk boat.
LUCY BELLE
W’at doin’?
CHICK
Same thin’—barbarin’. Dey’s got two chairs.
I’se gwine ter run one-a dem. Starts in nex’
week. Got a chanct ter make some real money,
now.
LUCY BELLE
Sho’ soun’ like a mighty good job.
CHICK (pointedly)
Yo’ allas tied up ter some niggah dat make yo’
wuk like hell.
LUCY BELLE
Shet up! Yo’ don’ know w’at yo’ ’s talkin’
’bout. Ev’body got ter wuk hard dese days ter
git by.
CHICK (satirically)
Is dey?
LUCY BELLE
Ef dey’s any good, dey is! W’at yo’ gittin’ at
anyway?
CHICK
I’se allas been yo’ lef’ han’ed budigee—.
LUCY BELLE
’Deed yo’ ain’ been nuffin’ but a frien’!
CHICK
Dat’s w’at I means. (With a significant smile.)
Ef I been yo’ real budigee, I sho’ nevah make
yo’ wuk like yo’ is!
LUCY BELLE (derisively)
No! Yo’d make me wuk like a dog.
CHICK
Not on yo’ life!
LUCY BELLE
Make me git out an hussle while yo’ lays home
an’ guzzle gin.
(They both laugh explosively. Lucy Belle unbends
somewhat.)
CHICK (surveying her critically)
Yo’ gittin’ ole, Luce—
LUCY BELLE (sharply)
So is yo’! Look at dat damned ole haid ob yo’s.
Noder yeah an’ yo’ won’ have a hair lef’.
CHICK (gives an explosive laugh, and runs a hand
over his head)
Dat’s no lie! (Throwing back his shoulders.)
De older I gits de bettah I feels.
LUCY BELLE
So does I!
CHICK (pointedly)
Been ter any dances?
LUCY BELLE
Don’ care nuffin’ ’bout dancin’ no mo’.
CHICK (with a little exclamation of incredulity)
Uster be crazy ’bout it!
LUCY BELLE
Uster be crazy ’bout a lot-a thin’s.
CHICK
Membah dat dance ob de Golden Eagle Club
at de ole Mawnin’ Star?
LUCY BELLE (with a reminiscent smile)
Sho’ do—!
CHICK
Somebody th’u’ a beer bottle—
LUCY BELLE (in joyous memory)
An’ miss yo’ by free inches!
(They both laugh uproariously.)
CHICK
Mah soul! Dat was some night! Git home
’bout seven o’clock in mawnin’.
LUCY BELLE (with just a note of wistfulness in her
tones)
Still have dances up dere?
CHICK (exclaiming)
Do dey? ’Bout ev’y night. (In ardent admiration.)
Yo’s de bes’ lil’ dancer I evah knowed.
LUCY BELLE
Go ’long! (She drops down into a chair, gives a
little sigh and stares abstractedly into space.)
CHICK
Membah de time we goes down ter Rivahview
an’ comin’ home de ole boat gits stuck on dem
mud flats dere by de Eastern Branch—?
LUCY BELLE
’Deed I does! (In ecstatic memory.) We dance
on de deck—in de moonlight—
CHICK (with a rapturous chuckle)
Ole Beverly Johnson chase Mink Hall wid a
razor—
LUCY BELLE (laughing)
Mink jump ovahboard an’ swim ter shore!
CHICK (laughing)
Great day! An’ membah de fair down at—er—lessee—Manassas?
LUCY BELLE (nodding)
Eat chicken an’ duck an’ co’n pone an’ ice
cream till I neahly bus’! Ride on de merry-go-roun’—shoot
de shoots—an’ sing an’ dance till
I kain’t hardly stan’ up—! Den dey was
preachin’ ovah in de grove at night—(She breaks
off—lost in the romantic memory of it.)
CHICK
Bet yo’ ain’ had no times like dem since!
LUCY BELLE (deprecatingly)
I was jes’ a kid den.
CHICK
Dere’s gwine ter be a dance at de Mawnin’ Star
termorrer night.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ gwine—?
CHICK
Sho’! Come on an’ go wid me.
LUCY BELLE (shaking her head)
Nuffin’ doin’.
CHICK (earnestly)
Come on! W’at’s dis settin’ ’roun’ de house
gittin’ yo’—? Jes’ dis onct fo’ ole times’ sake.
LUCY BELLE (shaking her head more emphatically)
Nuffin’ doin’, Chick. No use ter axe me.
CHICK (slides off the table and moves to her side)
Luce—jes’ dis onct—!
LUCY BELLE (loudly)
No—!
(Pause. Chick surveys her ruefully. Lucy Belle
glowers at him.)
CHICK (at length)
Den come on ovah ter Gerner’s an’ have a glass-a
gin.
LUCY BELLE
Not ternight, Chick.
CHICK
Yo’ tired—an’ it set yo’ up great.
LUCY BELLE
Not ternight.
CHICK
Dey got a phonograph in de back room an’ we
kin have a couple-a lil’ dances. Ef yo’ kain’t
go ter de Mawnin’ Star—yo’ kin leas’ git yo’se’f
in a lil’ dance ovah dere.
LUCY BELLE
No, no—!
CHICK
Come on! Jes’ fo’ ole times’ sake! Good Lawd,
yo’ got ter git out an’ have a lil’ fun now an’
den. Yo’ kain’t stick home yere all de time!
(Puts a hand on her arm.) Come on, baby—!
LUCY BELLE
Nuffin’ doin’—!
(A loud knock sounds on the door, Back. Lucy
Belle jumps up and stands listening.)
CHICK (in a low voice)
Who dat—?
LUCY BELLE (shaking her head)
Don’ know.
(The person outside kicks the door violently. An
expression of dire apprehension comes into Lucy
Belle’s face. She swings about, points at the door,
Left, and speaks in peremptory tones.)
LUCY BELLE
Git in dere a minute.
CHICK (in low, guarded tones as he hurries toward
Left)
Is it Sam—?
(She shakes her head. Chick goes out, Left. Lucy
Belle, after a moment or two of deliberation, advances
warily toward the door, Back. When almost
there she halts again, as though debating
whether or not to answer the door. Suddenly the
kicking is renewed with increased vigor. Lucy
Belle draws back shudderingly, as though to turn
and flee. Abruptly the door opens and Jeff
Bisbee lunges in. He slams the door shut after
him. He is a short, stocky Negro of about thirty—brown
in color—with a short, thick neck, a bullet
head and a mean, leering manner.)
LUCY BELLE (with a gasp of terror)
Jeff—!
JEFF
I knowed I’d find yo’—! (Swaying toward her
menacingly.) W’at yo’ leave me fo’?
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ know why—!
JEFF
Sneak off like a cat—!
LUCY BELLE
I was starvin’ ter deaf—.
JEFF
Like hell yo’ was!
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ was’n’ wukkin—.
JEFF
Yo’ know why!
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ did’n’ want ter—!
JEFF
I’ll bus’ yo’ in de mouf! (Takes a step toward
her.) I was havin’ some hard luck den.
LUCY BELLE
Dat’s w’at yo’ allas say. It was allas hard
luck—or somefin’!
JEFF (pulls back an arm as though to strike her)
Yo’ knows I was! Could’n’ git nuffin’—!
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ did’n’ ha’f try.
JEFF
Yo’ lie—! Times was hard. Look fo’ a monf—an’
could’n’ fin’ nuffin’—! (As though he were
on the point of leaping upon her and choking her.)
Watched yo’ chanct—did’n’ yo’—?
LUCY BELLE
No, no—!
JEFF
Watched yo’ chanct—an’ run—! Did’n’ stop
ter figur’ w’at I’d done fo’ yo’—!
LUCY BELLE (with a cry of derision)
Yo’ nevah done nuffin’ fo’ me—!
JEFF
Yo’ be on de streets ef it had’n’ been fo’ me!
(Lucy Belle sneers audibly.) Did’n’ have no mo’
sense den a chicken—!
LUCY BELLE
Ain’ on ’em now, is I?
JEFF
It ain’ yo’ fault—!
LUCY BELLE (her tones gradually becoming more and
more tremulous)
Yo’ crazy—!
JEFF
Watch till mah back is tuhned—an’ run ter
anoder niggah.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ dreamin’—!
JEFF
I got de dope on yo’—an’ got it right—!
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ think yo’ have—!
JEFF
Yo’ come yere ter Sam—!
LUCY BELLE
No, no—!
JEFF
Come yere ter dat damned ole loon! Beat it
ter de man dat git me sent up! Dat’s de way
yo’ pay me back, huh—?
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ don’ know w’at yo’ talkin’ ’bout—!
JEFF
Livin’ yere wid him—!
LUCY BELLE
No, no—!
JEFF (savagely)
Don’ yo’ go lyin’ ter me—! I knows! Yo’
kain’t put nuffin’ ovah on me! (She starts to
back away from him.) Yo’ yere—? (He grabs
her by the arm.)
LUCY BELLE (pulling away from him)
Jeff—please—
JEFF (menacingly)
Come yere—!
LUCY BELLE (getting around to the other side of the
table)
Jeff—please—
JEFF
Yo’ gwine wid me—!
LUCY BELLE
No, no—!
JEFF
An’ yo’ gwine damn quick!
LUCY BELLE
Jeff—fo’ Gawd’s sake—!
JEFF
I’se gwine back ter Havre de Grace in de
mawnin’ an’ yo’ gwine wid me—!
LUCY BELLE (defiantly)
I ain’ gwine nowhar wid yo’!
(Jeff reaches in a back pocket, whips out a knife,
snaps open the blade, and poises it in the air.)
JEFF
I’ll cut yo’ God-damn heart out!
LUCY BELLE (terror-stricken as he makes a move to
come around after her)
Oh, mah Gawd, Jeff—! Don’—don’—! (Puts
a hand to her throat, and glances wildly about,
struggling for self-control.) Jes’-a minute—
JEFF (savagely)
Come on—!
LUCY BELLE
Mah clothes—!
JEFF
Git ’em—git ’em!
LUCY BELLE
An’ de chillen—!
JEFF
Ter hell wid dem—!
LUCY BELLE
Got—got ter leave ’em wid somebody.
JEFF (sardonically)
Leave ’em wid Sam.
LUCY BELLE (as though she hadn’t heard his remark)
Got ter leave ’em wid somebody dat kin see
after ’em right.
JEFF
Git busy den!
LUCY BELLE (after a moment of tense, anguished
deliberation)
I—I reckon I could leave ’em wid Aun’ Becky—
JEFF
Who she?
LUCY BELLE
Ole woman—live down de alley yere.
JEFF
Hussle.
LUCY BELLE (after a moment of hesitancy)
Dey’re in yere. Got ter git ’em ready. (Moves
swiftly toward the door, Left. Jeff takes a step
or two, as though he were going to follow her. She
pauses as she places a hand on the door knob.)
Only take a minute.
(She opens the door quickly, slides out and closes
it. Something about her manner and the quickness
with which she closes the door rouse Jeff’s
suspicions. He stands—body tense—glaring after
her. Absolute silence ensues. The lock in the
door clicks. With a cry of rage Jeff leaps forward
and tries to force the door open.)
JEFF (ferociously)
Open de do’! Open it—or I’ll knock yo’ haid
off! Open it! (Muttering and cursing to himself
he puts his shoulder against it and presses
hard, but it fails to yield.) Open up! Open up!
(Baffled, at length he turns away, springs to Left
Center, and grabs up a chair. Realizing, however,
that it is perhaps not quite heavy enough for
his purpose, he slowly sets it down, stands with
his hands resting on its back, and looks about
in search of a more formidable weapon. Suddenly
shouts, the footsteps of people running, and the
noises of panicky commotion issue from the alley,
immediately off stage, Back. It proceeds down the
alley, Left, and the noise rapidly lessens in volume,
and distinctness. All at once the door, Back,
bursts open and Slim dashes in. He bangs the
door shut after him, and stands wild-eyed and
breathing heavily.)
JEFF
W’at’s de mattah—?
SLIM (with a gulp—as he recognizes Jeff)
Po—po-lice!
JEFF (lowering his voice and becoming markedly
wary and tense)
Po-lice—? Who dey aftah?
SLIM
Raid Messer’s stable—down de alley yere—
(Someone runs heavily down the alley. Slim
springs back and stands in a crouching attitude.
Jeff leaps over to the table and blows the light out.)
JEFF
Crap game—?
SLIM
Yas.
JEFF
Git anabody?
SLIM
Don’ know.
(The noise and clatter recede continually, off Left.
At length Slim advances cautiously to the door,
Back, opens it and peers out. Jeff goes over and
stands near him.)
SLIM
At de oder end-a de alley, now.
JEFF
See yo’ w’en yo’ runs?
SLIM
Sho’—! Slew-foot know me, too. He one-a
dem. Liable ter come back dis way an’ search
ev’y house.
(He opens the door wider and leans far out. A
pale light filters in from Back. The silhouetted[58]
figures of the two men can be plainly seen. Jeff
joins Slim in the doorway and peers out.)
SLIM
I’se gwine ter beat it.
(Slim darts off down the alley, Right. Jeff stands
tensely deliberating for several moments. Finally
he steps out, and with a swift movement closes the
door after him. Almost immediately the door,
Left, opens and a broad shaft of light falls across
the room from the doorway, Left, to the wall, Right
Back. Lucy Belle enters, followed closely by
Chick. They leave the door open and pause, Right
Back, in the full beat of the light.)
CHICK (as they move to Right, Back)
Oughter shot him in his tracks—! (Taps his hip
pocket.)
LUCY BELLE (shaking her head violently)
I done tol’ yo’ dat yo’ done right—stickin’ dere
an’ keepin’ yo’ mouf shet.
CHICK (with simulated bravado)
Sartainly like ter git dat bird.
LUCY BELLE
Gawd, no! Don’ wan’ no killin’s ’roun’ yere.
CHICK
Yo’ bettah beat it.
LUCY BELLE (breathing quickly)
Ain’ no place ter go—.
CHICK
Plenty ob ’em—! Hun’erd’s—!
LUCY BELLE
Ain’—ain’ got no strenf—! (Draws a hand
across her forehead.)
CHICK
Buck up! Yo’ got ter git out-a yere—!
LUCY BELLE
Oh—oh, Gawd! Somefin’ like dis allas got ter
happen.
(Chick skips over to the door, Back, opens it and
peers up and down the alley.)
LUCY BELLE
See anabody—?
CHICK (shaking his head)
No. (He closes the door and returns swiftly to
her.) He liable ter come back any minute.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ reckon so—?
CHICK
Sho’ as yo’ bawn!
LUCY BELLE
I kain’t go runnin’ ’roun’ de streets—
CHICK
We kin go ter some place neah.
LUCY BELLE
—Not feelin’ like I does.
CHICK
Yo’ ain’ gwine ter stay yere an’ let him kill yo’!
LUCY BELLE
He ain’ gwine ter kill me!
CHICK
Damn soon see ef yo’ stick yere!
LUCY BELLE
Sho’ ter see us in de street.
CHICK
We got a chanct ter run dere.
LUCY BELLE
He’s some runner hisse’f.
CHICK
He ain’ gwine ter do nuffin’ outside—wid de cops
aroun’. (She deliberates.) Look at yo’! Tremlin’
like a leaf!
LUCY BELLE (with a little hysterical sob)
I know—I know—
CHICK
Yo’ needs a good swig-a gin—
LUCY BELLE
Ain’—ain’ got a bit in de house.
CHICK
Come on ovah ter Gerner’s—
LUCY BELLE
Kain’t leave de chillen.
CHICK (with a little laugh—as though recalling her
subterfuge with Jeff)
Carry ’em ovah ter Aun’ Becky’s.
LUCY BELLE
I know—but yo’ see—
CHICK
Yo’ crazy ter stick yere—’less yo’ wan’ me ter
hang ’roun’ an’ plug him fo’ yo’—
LUCY BELLE
Nuffin’ like dat—!
CHICK
Den come on—! Good drink set yo’ up jes’
right.
(Lucy Belle takes a faltering step or two toward the
door, Left. Just then someone passes the window,
Left Back, and heavy footsteps on the pavement[61]
of the alley can be heard. Lucy Belle halts. She
turns and faces the door, Back. It opens and Sam
Reed enters. He is a big powerful Negro—dark
brown in color—and about thirty-five. He wears
an old, torn suit of clothes, carries an old felt
hat, and is without a collar. His manner is
straight-forward, well-meaning, kindly. His
movements and speech are deliberate—except when
he is angry.)
SAM (peering forward through the dim light at them)
Luce—!
LUCY BELLE (with a cry of mingled joy and agitation)
Sam—!
SAM (closing the door and moving slowly down to
Center)
H’yo’—?
LUCY BELLE (leaps to his side and grabs his arm)
Sam—Sam-boy! Jes’ talkin’ wid—wid Chick
Avery yere—yo’—yo’ knows Chick—
CHICK (circumspectly)
H’yo’, Sam.
(Sam glowers at Chick for a moment before replying.)
SAM (at length—with ill grace)
H’yo’—!
LUCY BELLE
Light de lamp, Chick. (To Sam.) Po-lice raid
a crap game down de alley—an’—an’ we puts
out de light.
(Chick strikes a match and lights the lamp on the
table, Center.)
LUCY BELLE (in eager vibrant tones of affection as
she gazes up at him)
Sam-boy, I’se so glad ter see yo’! How is yo’?
SAM
Pretty good.
LUCY BELLE
Did’n’ hardly ’spec’ yo’ ternight.
SAM
Shower come up an’ we quits early.
LUCY BELLE
Gawd bless yo’—! (Casting about for something
to relieve the constraint of the situation somewhat,
she spies his hat, grabs it and begins to industriously
dust it off with her sleeve.) Mus’-a been
playin’ football wid dis ole hat.
SAM (with a contemptuous glance at Chick)
I’se been doin’ a man’s wuk.
LUCY BELLE (with a forced, nervous laugh)
Been standin’ on yo’ haid!
CHICK (doing a light clog dance toward the door,
Back)
On mah way, Luce. See yo’ some mo’.
LUCY BELLE
W’at’s yo’ hurry—?
CHICK
Got some bus’ness ter ’tend ter—ovah at
Gerner’s. (Gives an explosive laugh.)
(Lucy Belle makes a wry face, and finally breaks
into a little nervous giggle.)
LUCY BELLE
Goodbye, Chick. See yo’ some mo’.
CHICK (over his shoulder)
See yo’ some mo’, Sam.
(Sam nods glumly and grunts. Chick goes out,
Back.)
SAM (sharply)
W’at he doin’ ’roun’ yere—?
LUCY BELLE
Jes’—jes’ drap in ter say “howdy”.
SAM
Don’ wan’ nobody like him hangin’ ’roun’.
LUCY BELLE
He—he’s an ole frien’-a mine.
SAM (nodding)
Damn pool room spoaht!
LUCY BELLE
No, no, Sam-boy! He’s a barber—an’ makes
good money. Wukkin’ all de time.
SAM
Nevah seen a barber dat was any good.
LUCY BELLE
He ain’ so bad. An’ he don’ come ’roun’ yere—oh,
only onct in a long time. (Glancing toward
the door, Left.) We keep on talkin’ like dis, dem
chillen wake up an’ make a fuss.
(She hurries over, Left, and closes the door. Sam
takes his pipe from his coat pocket, fumbles around
in the other outside coat pocket, finds his bag of
tobacco, pulls it out and begins painstakingly to
fill the pipe. Meanwhile he follows Lucy Belle’s
movements with an intent, questioning gaze.)
LUCY BELLE (coming back to him)
Honey-baby, been crazy ter see yo’—!
SAM (lays his pipe on the table and takes her in his
arms)
Honey-baby! (Kisses her fondly.) Mah lil’ gal!
LUCY BELLE
Seem ter me I miss yo’ mo’ an’ mo’—!
SAM
Sho’ nuff—?
LUCY BELLE
Lonesome yere widout yo’.
SAM (playfully)
Go ’long!
LUCY BELLE (shaking her head)
So lonesome some days dat I don’ know w’at ter
do.
SAM (patting her cheek)
Po’ lil’ baby-budigee—!
LUCY BELLE
Hones’, kain’t seem ter git uster yo’ bein’ away.
SAM
Jes’ remembah dat I misses yo’ as much as yo’
does me.
LUCY BELLE
I know, Sam-boy—I knows yo’ does!
SAM (sits in a nearby chair and pulls her over on his
knee)
Tain’ gwine ter be dis way long.
LUCY BELLE (with a little cry of joy)
Gee, w’en yo’ comes home like dis—an’ s’prise’s
me—
SAM (laughing)
Make yo’ feel good—?
LUCY BELLE
Oh, Gawd—! (Strokes his hair fondly. Someone
passes down the alley. She gives a start.)
SAM
W’at’s de mattah—?
LUCY BELLE (making a valiant effort to hide her agitation)
Nuffin’—!
SAM
Yo’ mus’ got de fidgets.
LUCY BELLE (nodding)
Maybe—from bein’ yere nights—alone. (Plaintively.)
Oh—oh, Sam-boy, I don’ wan’ yo’ ter
go ’way no mo’!
SAM (with puzzled impatience)
W’at yo’ talkin’ ’bout, gal?
LUCY BELLE
I don’ wan’ yo’ ter go ter Baltimo’ no mo’—!
SAM
Honey-baby, I got ter git back on de job!
LUCY BELLE
No, yo’ ain’—.
SAM
W’at’s de mattah wid yo’? Is yo’ crazy—?
LUCY BELLE
Dat ain’ de onliest job in de worl’—
SAM
Dat don’ make no diff’rence.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ kin git somefin’ yere.
SAM
Walk de streets agin like I did las’ monf?
LUCY BELLE
Thin’s ain’ so slow now.
SAM
Slower den dey evah was!
LUCY BELLE
So hard on me bein’ yere alone—an’ wid de
chillen.
SAM
Kain’t he’p it, honey-baby. Jes’ got ter keep
gwine ’long like we is—’till thin’s break bettah.
LUCY BELLE
Wukkin’ hard—?
SAM
Sho’ is!
LUCY BELLE
Diggin’ in de streets ain’ no kind-a job fo’ yo’.
SAM
Bettah den nuffin’.
LUCY BELLE (feelingly, as she strokes his hair again)
I knows dat yo’ doin’ all yo’ kin—! Gawd bless
yo’—! But I wan’s ter be wid yo’, Sam-boy
honey-baby—all de time.
SAM (his tones vibrant with emotion)
An’ I wan’s yo’ wid me—!
LUCY BELLE
Den—le’s go ter Baltimo—now—
SAM
W’at yo’ mean—?
LUCY BELLE
Next week.
SAM
Next week—?
LUCY BELLE
Er—er maybe de week aftah. We been figurin’
on gwine dere all ’long. But le’s don’ wait till
yo’ git somefin’ steady. Yo’ kin’ allas git
somefin’.
SAM (turning the thing over in his mind)
I don’ know, honey—
LUCY BELLE
Sho’ yo’ kin! I don’ wan’ ter stay yere no
longer widout yo’. Please—!
SAM
Cos’ a lot ter move.
LUCY BELLE
We could sell off some de furn’ture—an’ maybe
jes’ take rooms—
SAM (nodding)
Yas—perhaps.
LUCY BELLE
Sho’ we could!
SAM
Got ter fin’ de rooms fust.
LUCY BELLE
Dat gwine ter be easy ’nuff.
SAM
Nex’ week, yo’ say—?
LUCY BELLE
Or de week aftah!
SAM
Make it de week aftah.
LUCY BELLE (kissing him)
Yo’ will—!
SAM
I reckon so—!
LUCY BELLE
Gawd bless yo’—!
SAM
Do—do mos’ anathin’ dat gwine ter make yo’
happy!
LUCY BELLE (embracing him)
Honey-baby! (Draws back suddenly and searches
his face anxiously.) Is yo’ had any suppah?
(He smiles and shakes his head.) Co’se yo’ ain’!
W’at’s de mattah wid me! Great day!
SAM
I ain’ so hangry.
LUCY BELLE
Hush yo’ mouf, an’ lemme git down ter dat
sto’. (She grabs up a little shawl from a nearby
chair and throws it over her head.)
SAM
Got any money—?
LUCY BELLE
A lil’, I reckon.
(Sam reaches in his pocket, pulls out a bill and
hands it to her.)
SAM
Yere.
LUCY BELLE
Thanks, honey. Be right back. Ef Israel hollers
go in dere an’ beat him.
(Sam nods. She goes out hurriedly, Back. Sam
reaches over on the table, picks up his pipe and
lights it. A knock sounds on the door, Back.)
SAM
Come in!
(The door, Back, opens and Lizzie Gibbs enters.
Sam twists about to see who it is.)
LIZZIE (doing a sort of languorous muscle dance as
she advances)
H’yo’, Sam?
SAM (harshly—glowering at her)
W’at yo’ wan’?
LIZZIE (unctuously)
I draps ’roun’ dis way—now an’ den—ter see
ole frien’s.
SAM (laying his pipe on the table and rising)
Yo’ does, does yo’?
LIZZIE
Jes’ see yo’ gittin’ off a car down on Four-an’-a
ha’f Street. (She waits a moment or two for him
to speak, but he doesn’t offer to proceed with the
conversation.) How is yo’?
SAM
All right.
LIZZIE
Long time since I seen yo’.
SAM
Reckon it is.
LIZZIE
Ain’ seen yo’ since yo’ git back from Atlanta.
SAM
No—yo’ ain’.
LIZZIE
Tol’ me yo’ gwine down here fo’ a few weeks—!
SAM (his manner gradually becoming defiant)
Long as I ’spected ter stay.
LIZZIE
Yo’ nevah come back!
SAM
Got a good job.
LIZZIE
Las’ a long time, did’n’ it?
SAM
Long as I wan’s it!
LIZZIE
Nevah send me wud—or nuffin’—!
SAM
Yo’ knows why!
LIZZIE
I wish ter Gawd I did!
SAM
Don’ stan’ up dere—an’ talk like a fool.
LIZZIE
Tell me—tell me—!
SAM
I ain’ got no time fo’ no gal like yo’.
LIZZIE
Sam—w’at yo’ got so agin me?
SAM
Yo’ know!
LIZZIE
’Deed I don’!
SAM
I ain’ studyin’ ’bout no gal dat fights—an’
raises hell—
LIZZIE
I know—sometimes I uster—w’en I got mad—But
I nevah meant no harm, Sam-boy—
SAM
How ’bout dat time ovah at yo’ sistah’s?
LIZZIE (penitently)
I know, I know—(Lays a hand on his arm.)
Fo’give me, Sam—! ’Deed I did’n’ mean
nuffin’ den!
SAM (drawing away from her)
I ain’ boderin’ ’bout yo’, Lizz.
LIZZIE (passionately)
Listen, son, ain’ yo’ gwine ter fo’give yo’ ole
budigee?
SAM
Go ’long ’bout yo’ bus’ness—.
LIZZIE
I’ll give yo’ money, Sam—! Give yo’ de bes’
eats in de worl’—!
SAM
Shet up!
LIZZIE
Sam—!
SAM
Yo’ an’ me done call it quits—long time ago.
LIZZIE (collects herself gradually, and draws back a
step or two with a sardonic leer)
Done pass me up, huh?
SAM
Yo’ yered me.
LIZZIE
Pass me up fo’ dis lil’ wench.
SAM (flaring up)
Who yo’ talkin’ ’bout?
LIZZIE
Yo’ know—!
SAM
Who—?
LIZZIE
Lucy Belle.
SAM
Don’ yo’ go blackguardin’ her.
LIZZIE
I ain’ blackguardin’ nobody.
SAM
Den watch yo’ step!
LIZZIE
Fell fo’ her! Oh, mah Gawd!
SAM
Keep yo’ tongue off her!
LIZZIE
I knows her as well as yo’ do! Bettah—!
SAM
Yo’ don’—!
LIZZIE
I knowed her w’en she live ovah in Carter
Street—
SAM
Carter Street—?
LIZZIE (with a loud, rasping laugh)
W’en she livin’ dere wid Jeff Bisbee—!
SAM (with a shout which is a mixture of incredulity
and menace)
Livin’ wid Jeff Bisbee—!
LIZZIE
Sho’! Big as life.
SAM
Yo’ lie—!
LIZZIE
Ain’ she tol’ yo’? Oh, mah Gawd! (Gives a
raucous, sardonic laugh.) Ask her—! She’ll
tell yo’ all ’bout it! I knowed yo’d fall fo’ a
wench like her!
(The door, Back, opens and Lucy Belle enters,
carrying several small packages. An expression
of blank dismay floods her face upon discovering
Lizzie.)
LIZZIE (regarding her with an expression of leering
vengeance)
H’yo’, Luce—!
LUCY BELLE (in a low, choking voice)
’Lo—!
(Sam’s eyes are first upon one, then the other, in a
gaze of fierce, tigerish scrutiny.)
LIZZIE (with a wink and a laugh as she slouches
toward the door, Back)
Great lil’ gal, Sam—!
LUCY BELLE (angrily)
Yo’—yo’—
LIZZIE
Go on an’ say it! I dare yo’—!
SAM (to Lizzie)
Shet up!
LIZZIE (with a leering smile)
So long, Sam. See yo’ some mo’. (At the door,
Back.) Good beatin’ w’at she need!
(She goes out quickly, Back. Lucy Belle advances
to Center, and deposits her packages on the table.)
LUCY BELLE (studying Sam’s face with eager, pathetic
anxiety)
Hardes’ ole gal in Wash’nin’!
SAM (fiercely)
She say yo’ live wid Jeff Bisbee—!
LUCY BELLE (agitatedly)
She—she say dat—?
SAM (advancing quickly to her side)
Did yo’—?
LUCY BELLE
Oh, Sam—I—I—
SAM
Yo’ yere me?
LUCY BELLE
She—she hate me like sin—!
SAM
Did yo’—?
LUCY BELLE
Tryin’ ter git back at me—!
SAM (grabs her and jerks her to his side)
Did yo’ live wid him—?
LUCY BELLE
Oh, Sam-boy, honey-baby—! Don’—
SAM
Did yo’—?
LUCY BELLE (with a sob)
Oh—oh, Sam—I—I ain’ gwine ter lie ter yo’—
SAM (putting a hand on each of her shoulders, and
staring down into her eyes with a look of scarce-believing,
burning intensity)
Took up wid dat dirty skunk—?
LUCY BELLE
He made me—!
SAM
Yo’ lie—!
LUCY BELLE
He did—he did! Say he kill me ef I did’n’—!
SAM
An’ yo’ let him git away wid it—!
LUCY BELLE
Did’n’—did’n’ know w’at ter do—!
SAM (mockingly)
Did’n’ know w’at ter do!
LUCY BELLE
He kep’ aftah me—an’ kep’ aftah me—
SAM
W’en—w’en?
LUCY BELLE
Aftah Ed leaves me. Yo’s in Atlanta.
SAM
An’ yo’ stick yere?
LUCY BELLE
I was ha’f sick—an’ did’n’ have no money. He—he
had me so scar’t I was neah crazy.
SAM (in anguish)
Gawd—!
LUCY BELLE
Ha’f-out-a mah haid, honey—did’n’ know w’at
I was doin’—
SAM
Took up wid de wust niggah in de worl’—!
LUCY BELLE
I—I could’n’ help it—’deed I could’n’!
SAM
Swo’ I nevah touch anathin’ or anabody dat he
lay a fingah on.
LUCY BELLE
Dat’s de reason I ain’ said nuffin’.
SAM (bitterly)
I reckon it is!
LUCY BELLE
I knowed how yo’ hate him.
SAM (harshly)
Dey don’ come no wuss.
LUCY BELLE
Treat me like a dog!
SAM
W’at kin’-a crazy fool is yo’?
LUCY BELLE
I done tol’ yo’. I was down an’ out—an’ scar’t
ter deaf.
SAM (shaking his head)
Took up wid him—!
LUCY BELLE
I know, I know—
SAM
Why did’n’ yo’ kill him?
LUCY BELLE
Gawd, I wan’ed ter—!
SAM
Why did’n’ yo’?
LUCY BELLE
Ev’y day I prays dat yo’ would come back.
An’ I thinks ’bout yo’ all de time. Sam-boy,
honey-baby, dey ain’ nevah been anabody but
yo’—an’ nevah will be! (Stretching out her arms
to him.) W’en yo’ come back it seem too good
ter be true.
SAM
Wish I nevah come back.
LUCY BELLE
Don’ say dat, Sam—don’—!
SAM
Whar was yo’ livin’—?
LUCY BELLE
Carter Street.
SAM
An’ he come ter yo’ dere?
LUCY BELLE
Yas.
SAM
An’ yo’ let’s him stay.
LUCY BELLE
Had ter—. (Sam gives a short, savage laugh.)
I—I only done w’at oder gals would-a done—ef
dey been in mah place. I gits away de fust
good chanct I gits.
SAM
How long yo’ live wid him?
LUCY BELLE
’Bout yeah-an’-a-ha’f. (In tender, appealing
tones.) Honey-baby, I loves yo’—an’ I’se loved
yo’ all de time—right from de fust. Yo’ knows
I is! W’en me an’ yo’ hooks up yere—yo’ say
w’at is pas’ is pas’! Don’ yo’ membah—? (Sam
nods.) An’ yo’ say dat yo’ ain’ been no angel—an’
yo’ knows I ain’—
SAM
Did’n’ know yo’d been tied up ter anabody like
Jeff.
LUCY BELLE
I done tol’ yo’ why I did’n’ say nuffin’. Oh,
Sam-boy, I ain’ nevah come back at yo’ ’bout
ole Lizzie Gibbs. I don’ hol’ dat agin yo’—even
ef she do blackguard an’ lie on me. I ain’
nevah said nuffin’ ter yo’ ’bout it. Is I?
SAM
No.
LUCY BELLE
Den don’ hol’ dis agin me. It all happen fo’ me
an’ yo’ hook up fo’ good. It’s pas’ an’ gone.
Fo’give me. I ain’ nevah gwine ter keep
nuffin’ back agin. Fo’give me, honey-baby—please
fo’give me?
SAM (takes her in his arms and kisses her passionately)
Mah lil’ baby budigee!
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ does fo’give me, don’ yo’?
SAM
Yas, yas—!
LUCY BELLE
I knowed yo’ would.
SAM
Ef yo’ evah has anathin’ ter do wid anoder niggah
I’se gwine ter kill yo’!
LUCY BELLE
No, no, Sam—nevah agin—! Don’ yo’ worry—!
SAM (with passionate fervor)
I loves yo’ bettah den anathin’ in de worl’—!
LUCY BELLE (ecstatically)
Sam-boy budigee!
SAM
I wants ter go on wukkin’ fo’ yo’—
LUCY BELLE
Honey-baby!
SAM
An’ w’en anathin’ like dis come up—
LUCY BELLE
I know, I know—
SAM
Ef it had been anabody but Jeff—
LUCY BELLE
But w’at is pas’ is gwine ter be pas’—!
SAM (repeating)
W’at is pas’ is gwine ter be pas’. An’ I’se gwine
on wukkin’ fo’ yo’—an’ tryin’ ter make yo’
happy—
LUCY BELLE (with a sob)
I knows yo’ is, ole Sam-boy, baby!
SAM
Yo’s all I got in de worl’.
LUCY BELLE
Yo’s all I got!
SAM
By-an’-by we gwine ter git nuff saved ter buy
a lil’ place down neah Frederick—mah ole home.
LUCY BELLE
Yas, yas—jes’ as soon as we kin—
SAM
An’ we gwine down dere an’ raise garden truck—an’
chickens—an’ live right—
LUCY BELLE
Yo’ said somefin’!
SAM
De chillen’ll have plenty-a room ter play. An’
I kin take a day off now an’ go huntin’. (Wistfully.)
Still got-a lot-a possums down ’roun’
dere.
LUCY BELLE
Is dey—?
SAM
Heaps. (With a sigh.) Yas, indeedy! We
gwine down dere—an’ live right!
(The footsteps of someone coming rapidly down
the alley arrest them. Lucy Belle gives a start.
They both listen intently. The door, Back, suddenly
bursts open and Jeff Bisbee dashes in. He
halts abruptly upon discovering Sam and stares
at him—his face distorted with rage. Sam breaks
away from Lucy Belle and starts at him—menacingly.)
SAM (at the top of his voice)
Git out-a yere!
(Lucy Belle gives a cry of anguish and fear and
draws back, toward Left, cowering.)
JEFF (drawing a knife and snapping open the blade)
Who yo’ talkin’ ter?
SAM
Ter yo’!
LUCY BELLE (rushes forward, as though to place
herself between them)
Jeff—! Fo’ Gawd’s sake!
JEFF
Thought I’d find yo’ yere!
SAM (thunderously)
Git out—!
(Jeff lunges at Sam. Lucy Belle gives a blood-curdling
shriek. The men grapple and sway
about the room, grunting and cursing.)
LUCY BELLE
Oh, mah Gawd! Po-lice! Po-lice! Murder!
(Sam has a firm grip on Jeff’s right arm. After
some desperate maneuvering, Jeff contrives to
swing it down in an attempt to stab Sam in the
side. Sam diverts the thrust and the blade plunges
into Jeff’s side. Jeff gives a groan, his body becomes
limp, his knees sag, the muscles of his hand
relax and the knife falls to the floor. Sam releases
him and he staggers toward the table, Center. He
makes a grab for it, misses it, and falls to the floor.
He raises himself on one elbow, puts his free hand
to his side, and lies there groaning and rolling his
eyes. Sam and Lucy Belle stand gazing down at
him—terror-stricken.)
LUCY BELLE (in wild, hysterical tones)
Sam—run! Git out—git out fo’ yo’ life!
(At this juncture a policeman dashes in, Back.
He pauses near the door for a second, sees Jeff
lying on the floor, turns, discovers Sam, springs
over and grabs him.)
CURTAIN
