FRED: Are you kiddin’? I’m the one that tried to get you to watch the late night picture the other night on Africa.
LAMONT: The African Queen starring Humphrey Bogart does not count, Pop. [laughter]
JETTE: Mr. Sanford, why don’t you come down to our show tomorrow and check it out for yourself?
ETHIOPIA: Yeah, that’s a great idea.
LAMONT: Ohhh no! That’s a bad idea.
FRED, with a pitiful frown: Maybe my son is right. An old man like me with a bad heart condition would just get in the way.
ETHIOPIA: Lamont, this is your father. Mr. Sanford, we are giving you a personal invitation. Come on, Lamont, it’s only right.
LAMONT: I can dig it, but my father’s nature is to sabotage everything. He can’t stand to see anything go right. Even when he drives he only makes left turns. [laughter]
JETTE: Lamont, everybody is invited to the space ways—
FRED: Yeah, Dummy, “the space ways.” [laughter]
JETTE: And everybody is an instrument in this vast cosmos—
FRED: That’s right, “cosmos.” [light laughter]
JETTE: And each of us have a part to play in it.
FRED: Everybody’s an instrument with a part to play, you big dummy. [laughter]
LAMONT: With all the hot air you blow, you’re perfect for the woodwind section. [laughter]
FRED, holding up his fists: How would you like a “do” and a “re” across the lips by “mi,” leaving you to B flat? [laughter]
CHINA: On the outside you two may appear to be disharmonious but in actuality you all are rhythmically in sync. A little fine-tuning is all that’s needed.
FRED: That’s why I always sing when coordinating the office space. [Lamont rolls his eyes.] [laughter] It brings peace in the home.
CHINA: Mr. Sanford, you can sing?
FRED: Like a bird.
LAMONT: Yeah, a strangled one. [laughter] [Fred scowls]
CHINA: Why don’t you sing something for us, Mr. Sanford! [Jette and Ethiopia concur.]
FRED: All right, then. [Gestures to Lamont.] Back up, dummy.
If I didn’t care
more than words can say
If I didn’t care
would I feel this way.
Laughter and applause; commercial break.
FRED: You know, I think I would like to meet Solar Rays.
LAMONT: That’s “Sun Ra!” [laughter]
ETHIOPIA: Right on, Mr. Sanford! I know you two will hit it off. Look, it’s getting late and we have to get back to our group.
ROLLO: I’ll take you sistas back.
China, Ethiopia, and Jette each give Fred a peck on the cheek.
JETTE: So we’ll be seeing you tomorrow, Mr. Sanford?
FRED, smiling: I’ll be there.
CHINA: The show starts around five. Bye, Mr. Sanford.
FRED, waves to them: Bye-bye, girls.
The five o’clock whistle didn’t blow.
The whistle is broke and whadda’ya know?
If somebody don’t find out what’s wrong
Oh my pop’ll be workin’ all night long.
Applause.
Fred closes the door while Lamont looks at him in disapproval.
FRED, singing: Oh, who’s gonna fix the whistle? Won’t somebody fix the whistle?
Fred finishes his cracker, pushes out a weak whistle, blows cracker bits on Lamont.
LAMONT: You better not mess this up, that’s all I got to say. Is there anything here to eat? I’m starving.
FRED: Just some leftovers I was warming up before you came.
LAMONT, opening a pot on the stove top: Wheeeew! What is that in the pot? It smells horrible!
FRED: I told you it was leftovers.
LAMONT: We didn’t have this last night. We had collards, beef roast, and dinner rolls.
FRED: Yeah, but the night before that we had neck bones, cornbread, string beans, and sweet potatoes, and before that we had smothered pork chops, black-eyed peas, oxtails, and Rice-A-Roni.
LAMONT: So?
FRED: So, leftovers. [laughter]
LAMONT: You mean to tell me you mixed together all the food from this entire week?
FRED: Yeah. I call it “sweet smothered black-ox collards and string beef-o-Roni chops.” [laughter]
LAMONT: Yeah, and if you eat that you’re going to be “graveyard-dirt smothered Fred-o-Roni.” [laughter] You’re impossible. I’m going out to eat something that has one name to it.
FRED: Good. More for me. [laughter]
Scene 2
Fred walks down the stairs; Lamont looks in the mirror, putting on cologne.
LAMONT, admiring himself and his dashiki: Ha! When you got it, you got it.
FRED: And by the smell of it, you should be quarantined before someone else gets it. [laughter] What’s that stuff you stinking the whole house up with?
LAMONT: Well, for your information, it’s what’s happening. It’s a new cologne all the uptown dudes are wearing.
FRED: More like uptown fumigators. [laughter] Why you getting ready to leave so early anyway?
LAMONT: Rollo and I are going to help out with stage setup. You might as well head up there with us since you’re going to be going there anyway.
FRED, rubbing his stomach: I got a bit of stomachache from last night’s meal. I’ll have to pass.
LAMONT: You mean pass out. I can’t believe you pulled a stupid stunt like that. You have one foot in the grave and the other foot on a banana peel. [laughter] Pop, our bodies aren’t made for eating pig, long ones or short ones. That’s why we think like slaves, ’cause we still eat and live like slaves.
FRED: Well, I ain’t no slave. I like to eat good food.
LAMONT: Pig snout, oxtails, pork chops? That’s slave food. How are you ever going to vibrate on a spiritual frequency?
FRED: I don’t want to vibrate on spiritual frequencies. That’s why I always stay home for Super Bowl Sunday and watch it on VHF frequencies. [laughter]
LAMONT: Dig yourself, Pop. I’m talking frequencies of consciousness, not television. I’m talking transcendental experiences. Talking to you is like talking to a rusty bucket of sand.
FRED, holding up a fist: Watch your mouth or you’ll be having a hands-in-dental experience. [laughter]
LAMONT: Never mind. I’m through with this conversation.
FRED, looking bewildered: What’s that?
LAMONT: Forget about it. You’ll only have some smart remark to make.
FRED: No I won’t. I think it’s perfectly normal to walk around in a Zulu picnic blanket. [laughter]
LAMONT, looking fed up: You only show how ignorant you are of the dashiki.
FRED: Die chic? Not in that. You’d be dying ugly. [laughter]
LAMONT: I give up.
There’s a knock at the door.
LAMONT: That must be Rollo. [opening the door] Hey, Rollo.
ROLLO: What’s happenin’, Lamont? You ready?
LAMONT: Yeah, step in. Let me run upstairs and get my jacket.
ROLLO: What’s happenin’, Pops? What’s the word?
FRED: The word was abracadabra, but you still here. So I have to figure out a new one. [laughter]
ROLLO: Aw, Pops. Man, you cold.
FRED: If I stand next to your jewelry I’m not. [laughter]
ROLLO: You got it all wrong, Jack. This ain’t stolen. I paid for this. Cold hard cash.
FRED: You mean you’ll pay for it in cold hard time. [laughter]
ROLLO: Aw, Pops. Every time I come around you always got some gag.
FRED: And you always got someone tied up and gagged, you crook. [laughter]
Rollo waves his hand dismissively.
LAMONT: All right, I’m ready. Let’s split.
ROLLO: Solid.
LAMONT: Later, Pops.
ROLLO, teasingly: Later, Pops.
FRED, mumbling, biting lip, clenching fist: I’ll later you, you ol’—
As Fred almost makes it to the couch,
there’s a knock at the door again; he goes and opens the door.
GRADY, walking in: Hey, Fred. I just saw Larry and Rothko walking off.
Laughter.
FRED: That’s Lamont and Rollo.
GRADY: Oh yeah.
FRED: Come on in, Grady.
Both have a seat; Fred groans a bit.
GRADY: What’s wrong with you Fred? You look like you half dead.
FRED: I think I got some stomach trouble from last night’s supper. It could be the big one. The big one might be trying to sneak up on me from my stomach this time. [laughter]
GRADY: You don’t have a bad stiffness in your back, do you?
FRED: Yeah, right between my shoulder blades.
GRADY: Do you feel a slight shortness in breath when you bend over?
FRED, worriedly: Yeah. Yeah, I do.
Grady slowly shakes his head.
FRED, worried: What? What is it, Grady?
GRADY: You remember that cousin of mine that was in real estate?
FRED: Yeah, yeah.
GRADY: Well, you have the same symptoms he had. He went to see one of those doctors that cure all your ailments with natural herbs, plants, and stuff.
Grady sits shaking his head as Fred waits for him to continue.
FRED: Well don’t just sit there like a dummy. What combinations of plants did he take for it?
GRADY: A funeral wreath. [laughter] Now he’s beneath the real estate. [laughter]
FRED: Grady, you’re supposed to be my friend. Whatchu go and say something depressing like that for?
GRADY: I’m sorry, Fred, I wasn’t thinking.
FRED: Why don’t you go find someone else to depress. They ought to call you “Gray Cloud” Grady.
GRADY: I’m sorry, Fred. I was just trying to help. But you can’t keep on eating like that. It’ll kill you. They say more people die from their food-related sickness than homicides.
FRED: That’s the same stuff Lamont always saying. You all don’t know what you’re talking about. “Cut out the pork, cut out the cigarettes, cut out the wine.” How’s someone going to look eating healthy their whole life, then on their deathbed they die of nothing? [laughter]
GRADY: You do have a point, Fred. I had another cousin that cut out all pork and wine from his diet. He was perfectly healthy. He ate nothing but vegetables, and, wouldn’t you know it, it turned out vegetables took him to his grave.
FRED: See, that’s my point exactly.
GRADY: Yeah, one day he was crossing the street and got hit by a produce truck. [laughter] [Fred scowls at Grady.] Well, I have to get going. See ya, Fred.
FRED: All right. See ya, Grady.
Fred walks Grady to the door; on his way back to the couch, he sees a Sun Ra album Lamont left on a counter.
FRED: One of Lamont’s albums. Hmmm [reading the title, Sun Ra: Nuits de la Fondation Maeght], Sun Ra: Nutes de la fondashun … mate? [light laughter] Let me see what this sounds like. [Fred places disk on the record player. The music begins to pulsate.] I guess it wouldn’t hurt to kick my feet up a bit. Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take a little nap so I can be well rested for the show. [Fred drifts off to sleep.]
Hours later, a knocking at the door.
FRED, slowly waking up: All right, all right, I’m coming.
Fred opens the door and a person with a huge ibis head mask of the Egyptian god Thoth walks in.
FRED, backing up clenching his chest: Oh, no! [laughter] Ohhhh! It’s Rodan! [roaring laughter] He finished eating Tokyo, Japan, now he wants Watts, California! [laughter] Oh, Elizabeth! Elizabeth, I’m coming to join you, honey! This time Polly wanna nigga! [laughter]
Sun Ra steps through the door dressed in elaborate ancient ceremonial garb.
SUN RA: Mr. Sanford? [pause for applause] Mr. Sanford, are you all right?
FRED, coming out of shock: Ohhhhh. Huh? What?
SUN RA, coming to Fred’s aid: Are you all right, Mr. Sanford?
FRED, looking up and down at Sun Ra’s clothing: Am I all right? A black Liberace and Yul Brynner in a Big Bird mask are standing in my living room. Do I look all right? [laughter] Who are you?
SUN RA, spreading his arms: I—am Sun Ra.
FRED, scanning Sun Ra from head to toe: You. Are. Sun Ra?
SUN RA: I apologize if I startled you.
FRED: The way you’re dressed, you’d startle Monty Hall. [laughter]
SUN RA, shaking his head in amusement: These space suits are signature clothes worn by your great ancestors both on Earth and on Saturn.
FRED: And all this time I thought junkies were only on Earth [laughter].
SUN RA: Mr. Sanford, all catalysts at one time or another were criticized for their eccentric ideas.
FRED: Well, those cattle lists probably had the wrong type of cattle. [laughter] They probably started off like you trying to herd bird people instead of cows. [laughter]
SUN RA, chuckling: You don’t understand, Mr. Sanford. I’m just going to have to show you. As the ambassador of the intergalactic federation, please accompany me on a journey to the diamonds in the sky. [He gestures]
FRED, grabbing his baseball bat: You see this Louisville slugger? It’s known for its batting average on the diamond on the ground. [Roaring laughter] If you don’t—
A strange pulsating sound coming from outside interrupts.
FRED: What’s that sound?
SUN RA: Those are the natural minors of vibro-ion accelerator engines.
FRED, going to the door: Engines?
Fred looks out the door and sees a spaceship.
FRED, clutching his chest again: What [gulping] is that?
SUN RA: I told you, Mr. Sanford, I’m an ambassador from the intergalactic federation of outer space.
SUN RA, singing:
Hereby
our invitation
we do invite you
be of my space world.
FRED, falling into a hypnotic state as Sun Ra’s entourage escorts him into the ship: Be of your space world?
SUN RA: Rhythmic equations…
FRED: Rhythmic equations…
SUN RA: Enlightenment is my tomorrow…
FRED: Enlightenment is my tomorrow…
SUN RA: Has no plane of sorrow…
FRED: Has no plane of sorrow…
SUN RA: Be of my space world.
FRED: Be of my space world.
Scene 3
FRED: Where am I? What is this place?
SUN RA: You are riding sacred sounds, the sounds of enlightenment by way of strange mathematics and rhythmic equations.
FRED: Sounds of what-ment? Wh-what you mean, “riding sounds of enlightenment”? [laughter]
SUN RA: You are flying in a spacecraft propelled by the depths of wisdom upon vibratory star patterns. Enlightenment enables us to defy the oppressive weight of ignorance.
FRED: You mean we’re in the air?
SUN RA: We’re in space.
FRED: Put! Me! Down! [laughter]
SUN RA: Down, Mr. Sanford? In the vastness of space, down is relative. It’s only when earth lies beneath your feet that “up and down” has any significance.
FRED: Oooh! [Fred stumbles back clutching his chest] Oh no! This is the biggest one yet! You hear that, Elizabeth? I’m with a junky from Jupiter and I don’t know if I’m coming to join you, honey! I can’t tell which way is up! Oooh! [laughter]
SUN RA: You are perfectly safe, Mr. Sanford. Everything is as it should be.
FRED: Listen, are you for real?
SUN RA: I’m not real, I’m just like you. You don’t exist in your society. If you did, your people would not be seeking equal rights.
FRED: Oh, yeah? Try driving through Beverly Hills at night and see if you don’t exist to the police [laughter]. You’ll end up being nonexistent. [laughter]
SUN RA: That’s just my point, Mr. Sanford. See, your existence is that insignificant. If you were real, you’d have some status amongst the nations of the world. So we’re both myths. I
do not come to you as reality. I come to you as myth because that’s what black people are: myths.
FRED: This is all crazy. It has to be a dream. That’s it, I’m dreaming. It was that food I had last night. That has to be it.
SUN RA: I came from a dream that the black man dreamt long ago. I’m actually a presence sent to you by your ancestors. I understand why this is difficult for you to comprehend. Your entire life you have been veiled from the fiery truth of enlightenment. You believe the extent of your existence is the role of an ex slave, an Afro-American. But what were you before that?
FRED: A bald-headed African? [laughter]
SUN RA, smiling with amusement: Please try to stay focused, brother Sanford. You see, you have both an outer space and an inner space to explore. One should never exceed the other. Inner development prepares you spiritually, while external works help society. When you abandon either, you suffer the consequences of subjugation. This is why you become dependent and beg for jobs from the system. This is why you beg them for rights.
FRED: We don’t beg. We deserve those rights.
SUN RA: To deserve means you are “worthy of.” Whoever determines you to be worthy of something wields the power to administer judgment. You have to define your own worth, not empower someone else to decide that. Coltrane determined his worth. Garvey determined his worth. You’ve only made a partial journey from the inner space of the womb to the outer space or outcasts of society. Your new inner space is the inner city. Control that and explore the outer world beyond your country.
FRED: Couldn’t you tell me that without showing up as the ghost of Kwanzaa past? [laughter]
SUN RA: You had to obtain this through vibrations, through rhythmic equations. You are an instrument, brother Sanford, and I treat everybody as such. We all have a part to play in this vast Arkestra.
The engine changes frequencies.
FRED: What was that noise?
SUN RA: Not noise, music. Look out the porthole. We’ve arrived at the Black Sanctuary. As soon as we land we can go to the gardens to nourish our spirits.
FRED: Just so we’re clear about things. When you say “nourish our spirits” in this garden, are you talking about picking and eating or rollin’ and tokin’? [laughter]
SUN RA, laughing: Picking and eating, Mr. Sanford. Knowledge expands through the rigorous discipline of science, not through mind-altering stimulants. We haven’t time for that. The intellect is sacred, and in our tradition we guard it.
Octavia's Brood: Science Fiction Stories From Social Justice Movements Page 16
