by Pat Parker
Melvin: Uhhhhh, whew! Hey Richie man. You hear Poppa. Poppa upset man. He got the blues. Thinking about his little yellow gal. Thinking bout all his hard time. Uhhh whew. I tell you man. Shore is cold.
Poppa: I done warned you.
Richie: Hey Melvin man, you better be cool. You know Poppa is a mean dude man. He a killer and don’t take no stuff, man.
Melvin: Hey man, I know. Heehee. I’m over here trembling man. I don’t want the cat coming down on me. He be done cut my throat or…
Poppa: (moves toward Melvin) Boy!
Melvin: Hey old man. Be cool! I ain’t no young gal now. Don’t be coming on like you bad or nothing. Cause I’ll hurt you. Shit man, you better sit down and be straight.
Poppa: Then you leave me alone. I ain’t done nothing to you.
Richie: Hey Poppa man. Don’t get all upset. We was just joking a little. We didn’t mean nothing, man.
Poppa: You two always making fun. You act like you the onliest two ever been busted for something. You ain’t nothing. Holding up a liquor store. And couldn’t even do that right. Hump. You two ain’t so hot.
Melvin: Well at least we ain’t in here behind some jive. You the one. At least we was trying to make some money. You in here on some chump shit. You ripped off a jive bitch. Hell nigger if the broad was wrong why didn’t you just kick her ass or forgit the bitch?
Poppa: Don’t you be call Eula no names!
Melvin: Hey y’all. Let’s be cool. Ain’t no sense in getting all upset. We all sitting here in the same place, doing the same worrying about the same hard time.
Poppa: What you know? Huh. What you know about hard time. Ain’t none of us got no hard time. That dude over there got hard time.
Melvin: What dude?
Poppa: The one they brought in last night.
Richie: Which dude, Poppa? What he here for?
Poppa: (aware that all attention is on him) Well, you remember the guy the policeman brought by here a little while ago? Well, him. Now the vine has it that he killed a policeman.
Melvin: No shit, man. He offed a pig. Wow. They gone do it to him. Shit man.
Poppa: And that ain’t all. Story goes that his old man is a cop, too. A captain or something.
Richie: You jive, Poppa. A pig’s kid. Naw man. That’s bull.
Poppa: Naw! Naw. That’s the gospel truth. One of the trustees told me. He was serving the guards and they was talking about it.
Melvin: Hey man. No why would they be talking about something like that with a prisoner around?
Poppa: Aw, come on boy. You know the white folks don’t be paying no attention to us.
Richie: Well they shore enough paid enough attention to us. Wouldn’t be here except for all that attention. Wish they’d pay some attention to feeding us better.
Melvin: Shit there he goes again. Always talking bout food.
Lights go down on the cells. Comes up on the kitchen.
Setting: A small kitchen. Actually all that is needed is a table and chairs.
Scene: Two people are seated at the table. Frank and Helen, his wife. They are drinking coffee and eating toast.
Helen: Are you sure you don’t want more than that for breakfast? I could fix you some eggs or something. I’m feeling better now.
Frank: No, I’m alright. Haven’t felt much like eating.
Helen: (Takes a handkerchief out; wipes her eyes) Oh, I know. Frank, what are we going to do? Our baby is locked up in that place. Frank, isn’t there something?
Frank: Helen, don’t. Junior is a man. And I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to want us to help him. When I tried to talk to him…
Helen: But, Frank, he’s our son. Our only child. He’s sick, Frank. He’s confused. Junior would never hurt anyone.
Frank: Helen, stop it. Junior killed a man. A policeman. And he doesn’t seem to regret it at all. He’s calling himself some African name or something. He doesn’t seem to care.
Helen: He’s in shock. Something must have happened to him. He wouldn’t just hurt someone. There must be something we can do…
Frank: Don’t worry yourself, Helen. We can get him a good attorney. We’ll probably have to put up the house in order to pay for him. Maybe they’ll put Junior in an institution. He’ll probably have to stay there a long time, but it’s better than dying. You know killing a policeman is, well I don’t know Helen. If he would just cooperate. Act like he’s sorry. That policeman had a family, too. I mean, I’m ashamed every time I walk into the precinct. God, what they must think of me. My own son.
Helen: You can’t blame yourself, dear. Nobody blames you. You’re a good man. You’ve been a good policeman for almost 20 years. No one is going to blame you. They’re your friends. They know you.
Frank: I know, but still. I just don’t understand what happened. That boy had everything. A good home, clothes, school, friends, everything. I just don’t understand. If he’d just talk to me. I tried, Helen. Honest, I tried. He just sat there and mumbled about being some African. I’ll go and see him today, maybe he’s had time to think.
Helen: Oh Frank, I want to see him. I want to talk to him. Can I come?
Frank: No, Helen. I don’t think you should go. That place is no place for you. It’s dirty, Helen. There’s nothing there but losers.
Helen: Junior is there, Frank.
Frank: I know but still you shouldn’t come. Besides I’m not supposed to see him like I am. The guys at the station are just doing me a favor. Usually you have to go visit at a certain time and sit in glass cages. They could get in trouble if someone found out. It’s better that you don’t go see him just yet. I’ll tell him you asked for him.
Helen: Tell him I love him, Frank. Tell him I, well tell him…
Frank: I know, dear – I’ll tell him.
Lights go down on kitchen.
Lights come up on soda fountain. One booth.
Scene: Two people sit in a booth. One is Uhuru. He is the same actor, but here he is younger. He is wearing a baseball cap and a multicolored tee shirt. The other person is a man in his early twenties.
James: That was a pretty big guy you were fighting there, little fella. Did he hurt you?
Junior: Naw.
James: What’s your name?
Junior: Junior Frank. Frank Junior
James: Oh a junior, huh. I was a junior, too. My dad died, so I finally got rid of it. What was the fight about?
Junior: Nothing. He’s just mean.
James: Nothing. You mean you got all those lumps for nothing.
Junior: Well, he always picks on me. He doesn’t like me cause my dad’s a cop. None of them like me.
James: Oh, I see. Kind of tough having a cop for a father huh. When I was a kid I always wanted to be a cop or a fireman something like that. Wanted my old man to be something like that, too. Seemed exciting.
Junior: You did? I don’t know why? It’s no fun. The other kids don’t like you and you never get to go any place or do anything because your father’s always working or sleeping. I don’t want to be one.
James: What do you want to be?
Junior: Oh, I don’t know. A pilot maybe. I’d like to fly planes. Sometimes I can just see myself flying a big plane, way up in the clouds. Nobody up there but me. Higher even than birds can fly, just me.
James: Well, who knows – maybe you will be a pilot. Hey, I hope you aren’t upset with me stopping that fight. Seem like you both had enough.
Junior: No, I didn’t really want to fight him. But he’s been picking at me for a long time. My dad says a man has got to stand up for hisself.
James: Yeah, I guess he’s right. I wish there were other ways to settle things. It always seems to come back to fighting someone or thing. Guess that’s why we got wars.
Junior: Yeah, well, I gotta get going. My mom’s going to be worried. Thanks for the soda. And for stopping the fight too I guess. I was getting kind of tired.
James: Hey, glad to help out. Listen, you know I’m not from here and I got no
family around. Maybe sometimes you’d like to go to the park or zoo or maybe a ball game. That is if your dad is too busy to take you. Think you might like to do that? I live in the apartment right above here and I’m off every weekend.
Junior: Oh, yeah, I’d like that. Could we go to the airport sometime and watch the planes?
James: Sure, whatever you want. I got a roommate and he’s a steward for airlines. Maybe he can get us aboard one of the planes for a tour.
Junior: Oh! Hey could he? I’d really like that. How about this Saturday? Could he?
James: Well, I don’t know. I’ll have to see. Anyway, we’ll meet here next Saturday, say noon. And we’ll go somewhere. It might take him a while on the plane thing.
Junior: Okay. I gotta go, but I’ll be here Saturday and Thanks!
James: Sure, take care.
Lights go on soda fountain; come up on kitchen.
Scene: Two people. Frank Junior and his mother. Frank is still a young boy. He is wearing a different colored shirt than in the soda fountain scene and the jail cell.
Junior: (upset) I hate him.
Helen: Frank, don’t speak that way about your father.
Junior: I hate him, ma. He had no reason. We’re friends. Jimmy likes me. He takes me places. Dad had no right.
Helen: Junior you’re too young to understand now. When you get older you’ll see.
Junior: I see now. Dad beat him up, ma. He hit him over and over. And he arrested him. I see. He was jealous. Jimmy is my friend. He took me on a real airplane. And to the movies, and to the zoo. Dad never takes me… he’s jealous cause I like Jimmy better than him. Jimmy didn’t do anything wrong. Dad had no right to do that to him. He shouldn’t of hit him.
Helen: (Puts her arm around him) Junior You’re just too young to understand. That man Jimmy was not, well he’s sick. It’s not good for a boy your age to be around people like that. Your father was doing what was good for you. He didn’t want anything to happen to you.
Junior: What could happen? Jimmy wouldn’t hurt me. He’s my friend.
Helen: You’re too young to understand.
Junior: You always says that. I’m not too young. I know what I saw. Dad walked into the soda parlor and beat Jimmy up. He hit him and kicked him. And Jimmy didn’t fight him back, He kept asking, “Why?” He didn’t know who dad was. He didn’t know he was my father.
Helen: Son, don’t do this. You’re being unfair. Wait, in time you’ll understand.
Junior: You always say that. In time I’ll understand. You’re too young. Wait. Mom, you’re just covering up for him again. Every time Dad does something you cover up for him. When he shot that man during the riot, you said the man was wrong. Well, Jimmy wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t done anything. Dad was wrong.
Frank, Sr. comes into the kitchen. He is wearing his uniform.
Frank: What’s all the noise about? You can hear you two all the way in the streets.
Junior: Why did you do it? Why’d you hurt Jimmy?
Frank: Junior don’t you know what he is? That scum was filthy. I don’t ever want you around people like that again. You hear.
Junior: Jimmy was my friend and he didn’t do nothing.
Frank: Now listen son, that Jimmy is a pervert. He preys on young boys like you. He should be killed.
Junior: Jimmy is my friend.
Frank: Boy, you’re too young to understand. That man was sick. He should be locked up, kept away from children like you. He’s queer.
Junior: Jimmy is my friend. He takes me places. He’s my friend.
Frank: Did you go to his house?
Junior: Huh? His house. Yeah, I’ve been to his apartment. I met his roommate, Biff. He works for the airlines. He fixed it so we could go on this airplane and…
Frank: What did he do to you?
Junior: Do to me? He didn’t do nothing to me. He’s my friend.
Frank: Get your coat, Junior
Junior: Huh?
Frank: Get your coat, boy! (Junior leaves the kitchen)
Helen: What are you going to do, Frank? Where are you going?
Frank: I’m taking the boy down to the D.A.’s office. We’re going to put that pervert away for a long time.
Helen: But, Frank, Junior says that the man didn’t do anything to him.
Frank: But he was going to Helen, as sure as I’m standing here he had it planned in his sick, distorted brain. That man’s got a rap sheet. He’s been busted before for this sort of thing.
Helen: For molesting a child?
Frank: No not that yet, but for things in parks and bathrooms. He was building up to it. When I saw him and Jimmy last week, I knew what was going down. He was holding his hand. I know what was going down; and I’m really going to put an end to it. At least this pervert won’t be walking the streets. After Jimmy tells what he knows; they’ll lock this one up for a good while. I’ll be back in a while.
Helen: But Frank, are you sure that…
Frank: Helen, I know what I’m doing. I make the decisions. This is for the best. We’ll be back in a while. (Frank leaves the kitchen. Helen sits at the table and shakes her head. Lights go down).
Lights up on the cells. The occupants of both cells are up in their bunks. The lights are dim. Uhuru’s cellmate speaks.
Clifford: Wow, I still can’t believe that judge. That crap brain, decaying son of a bitch got some nerve. That dickless, punkish, honkey motha fucker. Hey man. Hey Uhuru. You cool, man. You got plenty balls. Why I thought I would die laughing at that cracker’s face, when he dug you… I mean when you told him your name, man. I thought he would bust his gut. (Realizes that Uhuru is not responding) Well, anyway, man, you cool with me. You alright. (Turns over in his bunk)
Melvin: Poppa, you should have been in court today. I mean it was something pretty to see.
Richie: Yeah, Poppa. That dude over there is something else man. He ain’t scared of nothing. He had that ofay upset.
Melvin: Yeah, he’s down. That judge was rapping. Frank, something. And the cat says my name is Uhuru. (Gets up and starts acting out the roles) The judge, he say yo legal name is Frank something…
Richie: Simpson, man. Frank Simpson, Jr.
Melvin: Yeah, yeah right on and anyways the judge is saying, in this court, you are Frank and the dude cuts him off and says real low like, but everybody can hear, my name is Uhuru. I come from the earth. I’m here to clean it. And the judge is getting upset; he says Frank again, and this cat’s beginning to turn red, dig. This is my court and I will not tolerate interruptions, and the dude interrupts him again and says, If you won’t call me by my name, I won’t listen to you and just turns around, Man.
Poppa: Naw.
Richie: Yeah, he just turns around; let’s the dude look at his back.
Melvin: No shit, man! And the judge is upset. I knew ofays could turn red, man, but that cat must have turned 15 different shades of red. I thought I was gonna die laughing at that shit man. And the judge is screaming for the bailiffs to get the cat out of there man. He couldn’t deal. He was beating his gavel telling folks to quit laughing and screaming at the bailiffs to get that cat out of his court. And we was cracking up so much in the prisoners’ docket that he had them take us all back to the holding cells.
Richie: Yeah, that turkey was upset. He hollering contempt all over the place. It was something else, Poppa. You shoulda seen it.
Lights dim on cells. Come up on interrogation room. Frank and his son are inside. The father is standing.
Frank: Boy, have you lost your senses? What was that spectacle today in court? How do you expect us to help you if you act like that? Junior you can’t act like that in court. Judges won’t stand for that kind of stuff.
Uhuru: I am Uhuru. I come from the earth to cleanse the earth. I am the seed of the blood of my people. I am…
Frank: Don’t play games with me. I’m your father. I’m not here as a cop. I want to help you. Don’t you realize that? In spite of what’s happened, I, we still love you. Your
mother is sick with worry about you. I can’t condone what you did. I can’t understand what you did; I think you should be locked up forever, but it would really break your mother’s heart, if you died in the gas chamber. She’d probably die with you. So you better start acting like you got some sense and let me help you. You know it is still a capital crime to kill a policeman. I don’t know what the hell is…
Uhuru: How is your wife?
Frank: What? Oh, your mother. She’s as well as can be expected. She’s taking all this pretty hard. Had to get some sedation from the doctor. She just mopes around a lot now.
