De Turkey and De Law Part 9

LUM I reckon I'll overtake him. (Exit left)

SISTER THOMAS I better go put dese greens on--my husband will kill me if he don't find no supper ready. Here come Mrs. Blunt. She oughter feel like a penny's worth of have-mercy wid all dis stink behind her daughter.

SISTER TAYLOR Chile, some folks don't keer. They don't raise they chillen, they drags 'em up. G.o.d knows if dat Daisy was mine, I'd throw her down and put a hundred lashes on her back wid a plow-line. Here she come in de store Sat'day night (acts coy and coquettish, burlesques Daisy's walk) a wringing and a twisting!

(Enter Mrs. Blunt left.)

MRS. BLUNT How y'all sisters?

SISTER THOMAS Very well, Miz Blunt, how you?

MRS. BLUNT Oh so-so.

SISTER TAYLOR I'm kickin' but not high.

MRS. BLUNT Well, thank G.o.d you still on prayin' ground and in a Bible Country--Me, I ain't many today. De n.i.g.g.e.rs got my Daisy's name all mixed up in diss mess.

SISTER TAYLOR You musn't mind dat, Sister Blunt. People just _will_ talk. They's talkin' in New York and they's talkin' in Georgy and they's talkin' in Italy.

SISTER THOMAS Chile, if you talk after n.i.g.g.e.rs they'll have you in de graveyard or in Chattahoochee one. You can't pay no tention to talk.

MRS. BLUNT Well, I know one thing--de man or woman, chick or child, grizzly or gray that tells me to my face anything wrong bout _my_ chile--I'm going to take _my_ fist (rolls up right sleeve and gestures with right fist) and knock they teeth down they throat. (She looks ferocious.) Cause y'll know I raised my Daisy right round my feet till I let her go up north last year wid them white folks. I'd ruther her to be in de white folks kitchen than walkin' de streets like some of dese girls round here. If I do say so, I done raised a lady. She can't help it if all dese men get stuck on her.

SISTER TAYLOR You'se telling de truth, Sister Blunt--that's what I always say--Don't confidence dese n.i.g.g.e.rs, do they'll sho put you in de street.

SISTER THOMAS Naw indeed. Never syndicate wid n.i.g.g.e.rs--do--they will distriminate you. They'll be an _anybody_. You goin to de trial, ain't you?

MRS. BLUNT Just as sho as you snore, and they better leave Daisy's name outer dis too. I done told her and told her to come straight home from her work.

Naw, she had to stop by dat store and skin her gums back wid dem trashy n.i.g.g.e.rs. She better not leave them white [Corrected missing s.p.a.ce.] folks today to come praipsin over here scornin her name all up wid dis n.i.g.g.e.r mess--do, I'll kill her. No daughter of mine ain't going to do as she please long as she live under de sound of my voice.

(She crosses to right.)

SISTER THOMAS That's right, Sister Blunt--I glory in yo' s.p.u.n.k. Lord, I better go put on my supper. (As Mrs. Blunt exits right, Rev. Singletary enters left with Dave and Deacon Lindsay and Sister Lewis. Very hostile glances from Sisters Thomas and Taylor towards the others.

ELDER SINGLETARY Good evening, folks.

(Sister Thomas and Sister Taylor just grunt. Sister Thomas moves a step or two towards exit. Flirts her skirts and exits.)

LINDSAY (Angrily) Whuts de matter, y'all? Cat got yo' tongue?

SISTER TAYLOR More matter than you kin scatter all over Cincinnatti.

LINDSAY Go head on, Lucy Taylor, go head on. You know a very little of yo'

sugar sweetens my coffee. Go head on. Everytime you lift yo' arm you smell like a nest of yellow hammers.

SISTER TAYLOR Go head on yo'self. Yo' head look like it done wore out three bodies--talking bout _me_ smelling--you smell lak a nest of grand daddies yo'self.

LINDSAY Aw, rack on down de road, 'oman. Ah don't wantuh change words wid yuh.

You'se too ugly.

MRS. TAYLOR You ain't n.o.body's pretty baby yo'self. You so ugly I betcha yo' wife have to spread uh sheet over yo' head tuh let sleep slip up on yuh.

LINDSAY (Threatening) You better git 'way from me while you able. I done tole you I don't wants break a mouth wid you. It's a whole heap better tuh walk off on yo own legs than it is to be toted off. I'm tired of yo'

achin round here. You fool wid me now an' I'll knock you into doll rags, Tony or no Tony.

SISTER TAYLOR (jumping up in his face) Hit me! Hit me! I dare you tuh hit me. If you take dat dare you'll steal a hawg an' eat his hair.

LINDSAY Lemme gwan down to dat church befo' you make me stomp you.

(He exits right.)

SISTER TAYLOR You mean you'll _git_ stomped. Ahm going to de trial too. De nex trial gointer be _me_ for kickin some uh you Baptis n.i.g.g.e.rs around.

(A great noise is heard off stage left. The angry and jeering voices of children. Mrs. Taylor looks off left and takes a step or two towards left exit as the noise comes nearer.)

VOICE OF ONE CHILD Tell her! Tell her! Turn her up and smell her. Yo' mama ain't got nothin to do wid me.

SISTER TAYLOR (Hollering off left) You lil Baptis haitians, leave them chillun alone. If you don't, you better!

(Enter about 10 chidren struggling and wrestling in a bunch. Mrs.

Taylor looks about on the ground for a stick to strike the children with.)

VOICE OF CHILD IN CROWD Hey! Hey! He's skeered tuh knock it off. Coward!

SISTER TAYLOR If y'all don't git on home!

Sa.s.sY LITTLE GIRL (Standing akimbo) I know you better not touch me, do my mama will tend to you.

SISTER TAYLOR (Making as if to strike her) Shet up, you nasty lil heifer, sa.s.sing me! You ain't half raised.

(The little girl shakes herself at Mrs. Taylor and is joined by two or three others.)

SISTER TAYLOR (Walking towards right exit) I'm going on down to de church an' tell yo' mammy. But she ain't been half raised herself. (She exits right with several children making faces behind her.)

A BOY (to sa.s.sy girl) Aw haw! Y'all ol' Baptis ain't got no book case in yo'

church. We went there one day an' I saw uh soda cracker box settin' up in de corner so I set down on it. (pointing at sa.s.sy girl) Know whut ole Mary Ella say? (jeering laughter) Willie, you git up off our library! Haw! Haw!

MARY ELLA Y'all ole Meth'dis' ain't got no window panes in yo' ole church.

A GIRL (Takes center of stage and hands akimbo shakes her hips.) I don't keer whut y'allsay. I'm a Methdis' bred an' uh Methdis' born an' when I'm dead there'll be uh Methdis' gone.

MARY ELLA (snaps fingers under other girl's nose and starts singing. Several join her.)

Oh Baptis, Baptis is my name My name's written on high I got my lick in de Baptis church Gointer eat up de Methdis pie

(the Methodist children jeer and make faces. The Baptist camp make faces back for a full minute there is silence while each camp tries to outdo the other in face making. The Baptist makes the last face.

METHODIST BOY Come on, less us don't notice em. Less gwan down to de church an' hear de trial.

MARY ELLA Y'all ain't the onliest ones kin go. We goin' too.