Joe Brown Jr.: High steppers...
James Roberts:... He got the jump on me and I couldn’t get to my blade. It was ridiculous. He was like a crazy man... a wild man... turning on me for no reason when I done nothing to him at all... and shouting, There is no hope!
Joe Brown Jr.: High steppers...
James Roberts: Before I knew it I was stunned and weak and there was blood all over the chest of my yellow polo shirt... I felt the lights darken, and my whole body turned to rubber...
Joe Brown Jr.: High steppers on a Saturday night...
James Roberts:... But I couldn’t move anything. [Pause.] Last thing I heard was Booker T. & the M.G.’s playing “Groovin’”... Joe... his eyes blazing... everything turned red.
Narrator: [To Roberts after pause.] You mean this caused such a brutal act? You called him a name?
James Roberts: That’s all it takes sometimes.
Narrator: And you think this makes sense? To lose your life at nineteen over such an insignificant thing?
James Roberts: It happens all the time. I accept it. Joe is still my friend. Friends kill each other all the time... unless you have an enemy you can both kill.
Narrator: And you, Joe?
Joe Brown Jr.: What is there to say? It happened. It happens all the time. One thing I learned: when you pull a knife or gun, don’t fool around, use it, or you might not have a chance to. Better him dead than me. He would say the same thing if it was the other way around.
Narrator: [To Joe Brown Jr.] What did you mean when you said there is no hope?
Joe Brown Jr.: [Evenly.] I don’t know. There is no hope. Here in this jail, with my fate, I might be better off dead.
Narrator: One more question. [To James Roberts.] Do you feel you died for anything? Is there any meaning in it?
James Roberts: Yes, I died for something. But I don’t know what it means.
Narrator: [To Joe Brown Jr.] And did your act mean anything?
Joe Brown Jr.: [Softly.] I suppose so. But I can’t imagine what.
[The music of a bluesy “Summertime.” The narrator comes out to downstage center, as in the beginning of the play. He addresses the audience directly in even tones.]
Narrator: Play “Summertime” for Joe Brown Jr. and play a very funky “Summertime” for his friend James Roberts who he knifed to death.
[“Summertime” theme continues as narrator slowly scrutinizes the people he has just interviewed.]
Narrator: Our purpose here is to discover why. No one seems to have answers. Do you have any?
[Narrator moves to actors who plays Bertha, Mrs. Williams, Mrs. Brown, Joe Brown Sr., and Dr. Brayboy, asking the question, “Do you have answers?” To which they respond:]
Bertha: Joe knifed that boy because he was foolish, wouldn’t settle down and accept things as they are, and because he didn’t have common sense.
Mrs. Williams: You ask me why Joe Brown murdered his friend in a Negro bar on a Saturday night and I tell you it is because he was headed that way in the beginning. These kids just won’t listen, and don’t want to learn, and that’s all there is to it.
Mr. Brown: I plan to go see the boy... I just haven’t had a chance yet. I help him out when I can but [pause] I can’t understand why he would do a thing like that.
Mrs. Brown: It’s just one of those things that happens on a Saturday night in a colored bar... like a disease. You hope you and nobody you know catches it. The Lord is the only protection.
Dr. Brayboy: When murder occurs for no apparent reason, but happens all the time, as in our race on Saturday nights, it is ritual murder. That is, no apparent reason. There are reasons. The reasons are both personal and common. When a people who have no method of letting off steam against the source of their oppression exploit against each other, homicide, under these conditions, is a form of group suicide. When personal chemistries don’t mix, just a little spark can bring about the explosion. Ice picks and knives and whatever happens to be lying around.
Narrator: When murder occurs for no apparent reason, but happens all the time, as in our race on a Saturday night, it is ritual murder.
[The following lines should be distributed among the actors and delivered to the audience directly.]
That is, no apparent reason. There are reasons. The reasons are both personal and common. When a people who have no method of letting off steam against the source of their oppression explode against each other, homicide, under these conditions, is a form of group suicide. When personal chemistries don’t mix, just a little spark can bring about the explosion. Ice picks, knives and whatever happens to be lying around.
Narrator: [Moving downstage facing audience directly.] We have seen something unpleasant, but the play is over. Yes, we see this thing [gesturing to stage behind him] night after night, weekend after weekend. Only you have the power to stop it. It has to do with something in our minds. [Pause. “Summertime” music gradually increases in volume.] Play “Summertime” for Joe Brown Jr., and play a very funky “Summertime” for his friend James Roberts who he knifed to death.
[Narrator walks over to Dr. Brayboy and shakes his hand as lights fade to black.]
Part III
The Thanatos Syndrome
Rich
by Ellen Gilchrist
(Originally published in 1978)
Garden District
Tom and Letty Wilson were rich in everything. They were rich in friends because Tom was a vice president of the Whitney Bank of New Orleans and liked doing business with his friends, and because Letty was vice president of the Junior League of New Orleans and had her picture in Town and Country every year at the Symphony Ball.
The Wilsons were rich in knowing exactly who they were because every year from Epiphany to Fat Tuesday they flew the beautiful green and gold and purple flag outside their house that meant that Letty had been queen of the Mardi Gras the year she was a debutante. Not that Letty was foolish enough to take the flag seriously.
Sometimes she was even embarrassed to call the yardman and ask him to come over and bring his high ladder.
“Preacher, can you come around on Tuesday and put up my flag?” she would ask.
“You know I can,” the giant black man would answer. “I been saving time to put up your flag. I won’t forget what a beautiful queen you made that year.”
“Oh, hush, Preacher. I was a skinny little scared girl. It’s a wonder I didn’t fall off the balcony I was so sacred. I’ll see you on Monday.” And Letty would think to herself what a big phony Preacher was and wonder when he was going to try to borrow some more money from them.
Tom Wilson considered himself a natural as a banker because he loved to gamble and wheel and deal. From the time he was a boy in a small Baptist town in Tennessee he had loved to play cards and match nickels and lay bets.
In high school he read the Nashville Banner avidly and kept an eye out for useful situations such as the lingering and suspenseful illnesses of Pope Pius.