Contemporary One-Act Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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JIM. [_Hurriedly._] Yes'm, I said "Mr. Hugh." Didn't you hear me, Miss Mary?
MARY. What'd you say to him?
JIM. I told 'im I's callin' 'round here 'casionally, an' he said ... he ...
MARY. [_Looking straight at_ JIM.] He said what?
JIM. He axed me if I's a-courtin', an' I told 'im I mought ... er ... be ...
MARY. Go on; tell me. Did he say I ought to marry you?
JIM. [_Eagerly._] Yes'm.... [MARY _gasps_.] No'm, not ezzactly.... He said as how it was a pity you had n.o.body to take care o' you, an' had to work so hard lak a slave every day. An' he said you's most too purty an'
good to do it. An' I tuck from 'is talk dat he meant he thought you's good enough foh me, an' wanted me to take care o' you, so's you wouldn't hadder work.
MARY. _Oh!..._ Yes, I reckon so. [_She is silent._
JIM. He's a eddicated boy, an' he knows. Dey teaches 'im how to know everything out yander at dat college place. He sees my worf', he does.
Co'se I ain't braggin', but de gals all do say ... oh, you know what dey says.
MARY. [_Jumping up from her chair._] Jim Matthews, you think I'd marry a ... oh, I'd ...
AUNT CANDACE. [_Turning around._] What's you sayin', gal?
MARY. [_Sittin' down._] Oh, aunty! I ... I ... was just askin' Jim to play a piece. [_To_ JIM _in a lower voice_.] For the Lord's sake play somethin'....
[_She hides her face in her ap.r.o.n._
AUNT CANDACE. Ah-hah.... Play us a piece on yo' box, Jim.
[JIM, _at a loss as to the meaning of_ MARY'S _tears, but feeling that they are somehow a further proof of his power with the ladies, smiles knowingly, tunes his guitar, and begins strumming a chord.
After playing a few bars, he starts singing in a clear voice, with "Ohs" and "Ahs" thrown in._
JIM. Oh, whah you gwine, my lover?
Gwine on down de road.
Oh, whah you gwine, my lover?
Gwine on down de road.
(_Ba.s.s_) Gwine ... on ... gwine on down de road.
She th'owed her arms aroun' me An' cast me silver an' gold.
Said, "Whah you gwine, my lover?"
Gwine on down de road.
(_Ba.s.s_) Oh, Lawd! ... Oh, Lawd!
Gwine ... on ... down ... de ... road.
[MARY _still leans forward, with her face in her hands_. JIM _stops playing and speaks softly_.
JIM. Miss Mary, I's sho' sorry I made you cry. Honey, I don't want you to cry 'bout me lak dat ...
[_She remains silent. He smiles in self-gratulation, but utters a mournful sigh for her benefit. Pulling his guitar further up on his lap, he takes out his pocket-knife, fits it between his fingers in imitation of the Hawaiians, clears his throat and strikes another chord._
AUNT CANDACE. [_Noticing the silence, looks at_ MARY.] What's de trouble wid you, gal? What's de trouble, chile? Oh, Lawdy me! [_Pa.s.sing her hand across her forehead._
MARY. [_Raising her head._] Nothin', nothin'. I'm tickled at Jim. [_To_ JIM.] Go on, play her piece about the hea.r.s.e. Play it!
JIM. [_Strums his guitar, tunes it, and begins._]
Hea.r.s.e done carried somebody to de graveyard.
Lawd, I know my time ain't long.
Hea.r.s.e done carried somebody to de graveyard.
Lawd, I know my time ain't long.
[_He sings louder, syncopating with his feet._]
Preacher keeps a-preachin' an' people keep a-dyin'.
Lawd, I know my time ain't long.
[AUNT CANDACE _begins swaying rhythmically with the music, clapping her hands, and now and then exclaiming_.
AUNT CANDACE. Jesus! Lawdy, my Lawd!
[_She and_ JIM _begin to sing alternately, she the first verse and_ JIM _the refrain. While this is going on_ MARY, _un.o.bserved, goes to the window, pulls open the curtain and looks out, stretching her clenched hands above her head. She turns to the mirror, smooths back her heavy hair, shakes her head, s.n.a.t.c.hes off the ribbon and throws it on the floor. Then she pulls off her cloak and lays it on the bed. She picks up the ribbon and puts it in the bureau.
Meanwhile the music has continued._
Hammer keep ringin' on somebody's coffin.
JIM. _Lawd_, I know my time ain't long.
[_They repeat these lines._
AUNT CANDACE. _Gwine_ roll 'em up lak leaves in de judgment.
JIM. Lawd, I know my time ain't long.
[_After these lines have been repeated_, JIM, _noticing_ MARY'S _absence from his side, stops and looks around_. AUNT CANDACE _keeps on singing a verse or two. She stops and looks around, seas_ MARY _standing in an att.i.tude of despair_. JIM _speaks_.
JIM. Miss Mary!
AUNT CANDACE. What is it, honey?
[_There is a stamping of feet outside._ MARY _raises her head with an expectant look an her face. She runs to the door and opens it.
Her expression changes to one of disappointment and fear as_ HENRY MORGAN _enters. He is a man of powerful build, about fifty years old, rough and overbearing. A week's growth of grizzled beard darkens his face. He wears a felt hat, long black overcoat, ripped at the pockets and b.u.t.toned up to his chin, big laced boots, and yarn mittens. In his hand he carries a package, which he throws contemptuously on the bed. He keeps his hat on._ MARY _closes the door and stands with her back to it, clasping the latch-string_.
AUNT CANDACE _and_ JIM _offer their seats_. JIM'S _look is one of servile respect, that of Aunt Candace one of troubled expectancy_.
MORGAN. [_In a booming voice._] Dad burn you, Jim. Still a-courtin', eh?
Set down, Candace. I ain't goin't to stay long.
AUNT CANDACE. [_Querulously._] What's he say?