The Project Gutenberg EBook of De Turkey and De Law, by Zora Neale Hurston

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  Title: De Turkey and De Law

  A Comedy in Three Acts

  Author: Zora Neale Hurston

  Release Date: July 25, 2007 [EBook #22146]

  Language: English

  Character set encoding: ASCII

  *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DE TURKEY AND DE LAW ***

  Produced by Charlene Taylor and the Online Distributed

  Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was

  produced from images generously made available by the

  Library of Congress)

  [Transcriber's Notes: This play transcribed from an original

  typewritten manuscript at the Library of Congress in the Zora Neale

  Hurston collection. There are pencilled notations probably by Ms.

  Hurston herself. These pencilled edits have been transcribed as [Note:

  (text)] Any other questionable transcription is similarly noted.

  Nothing in the dialect has been changed. Occasional obvious typos in

  the stage directions have been corrected. There are inconsistencies in

  both bracketing and punctuation, which have been left as in the

  original manuscript. There seems to be an irregularity in the spelling

  of "Simms"; "Sims" seems randomly substituted.]

  DE TURKEY AND DE LAW

  A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS

  by

  ZORA HURSTON

  CAST

  Jim Weston A young man and the town bully (A Methodist)

  Dave Carter The town's best hunter and fisherman (Baptist)

  Joe Clarke The Mayor, Postmaster, storekeeper

  Daisy Blunt The town vamp

  Lum Boger The Marshall

  Walter Thomas A villager (Methodist)

  Lige Moseley A villager (Methodist)

  Joe Lindsay A villager (Baptist)

  Della Lewis A villager (Baptist)

  Tod Hambo A villager (Baptist)

  Lucy Taylor A villager (Methodist)

  Rev. Singletary (Baptist)

  Rev. Simms (Methodist)

  Villagers, children, dogs.

  ACT I

  SETTING: A Negro village in Florida in our own time. All action from

  viewpoint of an actor facing audience.

  PLACE: Joe Clarke's store porch in the village. A frame building with

  a false front. A low porch with two steps up. Door in center of porch.

  A window on each side of the door. A bench on each side of the porch.

  Axhandles, hoes and shovels, etc. are displayed leaning against the

  wall. Exits right and left. Street is unpaved. Grass and weeds growing

  all over.

  TIME: It is late afternoon on a Saturday in summer.

  Before the curtain rises the voices of children are heard, boisterous

  at play. Shouts and laughter.

  VOICE OF ONE BOY

  Naw, I don't want to play wringing no dish rag! We gointer play chick

  mah chick mah craney crow.

  GIRL'S VOICE

  Yeah, less play dat, and I'm gointer to be de hen.

  BOY'S VOICE

  And I'm gointer be de hawk. Lemme git myself a stick to mark wid. (The

  curtain rises slowly. As it goes up the game is being organized. The

  boy who is the hawk is squatting center stage in the street before the

  store with a short twig in his hand. The largest girl is lining up the

  other children behind her.)

  THE MOTHER HEN

  (looking back over her flock) Y'all ketch holt of one 'nother's

  clothes so de hauk can't git yuh. (They do.) Y'all straight now?

  CHORUS

  Yeah. (The march around the hawk commences.)

  HEN AND CHICKS

  Chick mah chick mah craney crow

  Went to de well to wash my toe

  When I come back my chick was gone.

  What time ole witch?

  HAWK

  (making a tally on the ground) One!

  HEN AND CHICKS

  Chick mah chick etc.--(While this is going on Walter Thomas from the

  store door eating peanuts from a bag appears and seats himself on the

  porch beside the steps.)

  HAWK

  (Scoring again) Two!

  (Enter a little girl right. She trots up to

  the big girl.)

  LITTLE GIRL

  (officiously) Titter, mama say if you don't come on wid dat soap she

  gointer wear you out.

  HEN AND CHICKS

  Chick mah chick etc. (While this is being sung, enter Joe Lindsay and

  seats himself on right bench. He lights his pipe. The little girl

  stands b by the fence rubbing her leg with her foot.

  HAWK

  (scoring) Three!

  LITTLE GIRL

  (insistent) Titter, titter! Mama say to tell you to come on home wid

  dat soap and rake up dat yard. I bet she gointer beat you good.

  BIG GIRL

  (angrily) Aw naw, mama ain't sent you after me, nothin' of de kind!

  Gwan home and leave me alone.

  LITTLE GIRL

  You better come on! I'm gointer tell mama how 'omanish you actin

  cause you in front of dese boys.

  BIG GIRL

  (makes a threatenin' gesture) Aw don't be so fast and showin' off in

  company. Ack lak you ain't got no sense!

  LITTLE GIRL

  (starts to cry) Dat's all right. I'm going home and tell mama you down

  here playing wid boys and she sho gointer whup you good, too. I'm

  gointer tell her you called me a fool too, now. (She walks off, wiping

  her eyes and nose with the back of her hand) Yeah, I'm goin' tell her!

  Jus' showin' off in front of ole John Wesley Taylor. I'm going to tell

  her too, now.

  BIG GIRL

  (flounces her skirt) Tell her! Tell her! Turn her up and smell her!

  (Game resumed) Chick mah chick etc.

  HAWK

  Four! (He arises and imitates a hawk flying and trying to catch a

  chicken. Calling in a high voice.) Chickie!!

  HEN

  (Flapping her wings to protect her young) My chickens' sleep.

  HAWK

  Chickie!!

  HEN

  My chickens' sleep.

  HAWK

  I shall have a chick.

  HEN

  You shan't have a chick.

  HAWK

  I'm going home. (flies off)

  HEN

  There's de road.

  HAWK

  I'm comin' back.

  (During this dialog the hawk is feinting and darting in his efforts to

  catch a chicken and the chickens are dancing defensively.)

  HEN

  Don't keer if you do.

  HAWK

  My pot's a boiling.

  HEN

  Let it boil.

  HAWK

  My guts a growling

  HEN

  Let 'em growl.

  HAWK

&
nbsp; I must have a chick.

  HEN

  You shan't have nairn.

  HAWK

  My mama's sick.

  HEN

  Let her die.

  HAWK

  Chickie!!

  HEN

  My chicken's sleep.

  (Hawk darts quickly around the hen and grabs a chicken and leads him

  off and places the captive on his knees at the store porch. After a

  brief bit of dancing he catches another, then a third who is a chubby

  little boy. The little boy begins to cry.)

  LITTLE BOY

  I ain't gointer play cause you hurt me.

  HAWK

  Aw, naw, I din't hurt you.

  LITTLE BOY

  Yeah you did too. You pecked me right here. (points to top of his

  head)

  HAWK

  Well if you so touchous you got to cry every time anybody look at you,

  you can't play wid us.

  LITTLE BOY

  (smothering sobs) I ain't cryin'. (He is placed with the other

  captives. Hawk returns to game.)

  HAWK

  Chickie.

  HEN

  My chickens sleep!

  VOICE FROM A DISTANCE

  Titter! You Titter!!!

  BIG GIRL

  Yessum

  VOICE

  If you don't come here wid dat soap you better!

  BIG GIRL

  (shakes herself poutingly, half sobs) Soon's I git grown I'm gointer

  run away. Everytime a person gits to havin' fun, it's "come here,

  Titter and rake de yard." She don't never make Bubber do nothin. (She

  exits into the store.)

  HAWK

  Now we ain't got no hen.

  ALL THE GIRLS

  (in a clamor) I'll be de mama hen! Lemme be it! (Enter Hambo left and

  stands looking at the children.)

  HAMBO

  Can't dese young uns keep up a powerful racket, Joe?

  LINDSAY

  They sho kin. They kin git round so vi'grous when they whoopin and

  hollerin and rompin and racin, but just put 'em to work now and you

  kin count dead lice fallin' off of 'em.

  (Enter Tillie from the store with the soap. Hambo pulls out a plug of

  tobacco from his hip pocket and bites a chunk from it.)

  HAMBO

  De way dese chillun is dese days is,--eat? Yes! Squall and holler?

  Yes! Kick out shoes? Yes! Work? No!!

  LINDSAY

  You sho is tellin' de truth. Now look at dese! I'll bet everyone of

  'em's mammies sent 'em to de store an' they out here frollickin'. If

  one of 'em was mine, I'd whup 'em till they couldn't set down. (to the

  children) Shet up dat racket and gwan home! (The children pay no

  attention and the game gets hotter.)

  DISTANT VOICE

  (off stage) You Tit-ter!! You Tit-Ter!!

  WALTER

  Titter, don't you hear yo' ma callin' you?

  ESSIE

  Yessuh, I mean naw suh.

  LINDSAY

  How come you can't answer, then? Lawd knows de folks just ruins

  chilluns dese days. Deys skeered tuh whup 'em right. Den before they

  gits twenty de gals done come up wid somethin' in dey arms an' de boys

  on de chain gang. If you don't whup 'em, they'll whip you.

  HAMBO

  Dat sho is whut de Lawd loves. When I wuz a boy they _raised_ chillen

  then. Now they lets 'em do as they please. There ain't no real

  chestizing no more. They takes a lil tee-ninchy switch and tickles em.

  No wonder de world is in sich uh mess.

  VOICE OFF STAGE

  You Tit-ter!! Aw Titter!!

  ESSIE

  (stops to listen) Yessum!!

  VOICE OFF STAGE

  If you don't come here, you better!

  ESSIE

  Yessum! (to her playmates) Aw shucks! I got to go home. (She exits

  right, walking sullenly. The game has stopped.)

  LINDSAY

  (pointing at Essie) You see dat gal shakin' herself at her mammy? De

  sassy lil binch needs her guts stomped out. (to Essie) Run! I'm comin'

  on down there an' tell yo' ma how 'omanish you is, shakin' yo'self at

  grown folks. (Essie walks slower and shakes her skirt contemptously.

  Lindsay jumps to his feet as if to pursue her.) You must smell

  yo'self! (Essie exits.) Now de rest of you haitians scatter way from

  in front dis store. Dis ain't no place for chillen, nohow. (gesture of

  shooing) Gwan! Thin out! Every time a grownperson open they mouf y'all

  right dere to gaze down they throat. Git! (The children exit sullenly

  right. In the silence that follows the cracking of Walter's peanut

  shells can be heard very plainly.)

  HAMBO

  Walter, God a' mighty! You better quit eatin' em ground peas de way

  you do. You gointer die wid de colic.

  LINDSAY

  Aw, taint gointer hurt him. I don't b'lieve uh cord uh wood would lay

  heavy on Walter's belly. He kin eat mo' penders than Brazzle's mule.

  WALTER

  (laughing) Aw naw, don't throw me in wid dat mule. He could eat up

  camp-meetin, back off scociation and drink Jurdan dry.

  LINDSAY

  And still stay so po' till he wuzn't nothin atall but a mule frame.

  (Enter Lige Moseley right) Taint never been no mule in de world lak

  dat ole yaller mule since Jonah went to joppy.

  (Lige seats himself on the floor on the other side of the steps. Pulls

  out a bone toothpick and begins to pick his teeth)

  LIGE

  Y'all still talkin bout Brazzle's ole useter-be mule?

  HAMBO

  Yeah. Memeber dat time Brazzle hitched him to de plow and took him to

  Eshleman's new ground?

  LIGE

  And he laid down before he'd plow a lick. Sho I do! But who ever seen

  him work? All you ever did see was him and Brazzle fightin up and down

  de furrows. (all laugh) He was so mean he would even try to kick you

  if you went in his stall to carry him some corn.

  WALTER

  Nothin but pure concentrated meanness stuffed into uh mule hide. Thass

  de reason he wouldn't git fat--just too mean.

  LIGE

  Sho was skinny now. You could use his ribs for a washboard and hang de

  clothes up on his hips to dry. (all laugh)

  HAMBO

  Lige, you kin lie [Note: "like" crossed out] lak cross ties [Note

  inserted text: from Jacksonville to Key West.]. But layin all sides to

  jokes, when they told me dat mule was dead, uh just took and knocked

  off from work to see him drug out lak all de rest of de folks, and

  folkses dat mule wuz too contrary to lay down on his side and die. He

  laid on his raw-boney back wid his foots stickin straight up in de air

  lak he wuz fightin something.

  LINDSAY

  He wuz--bet he fought ole death lak a natural man. Ah seen his bones

  yistiddy, out dere on de edge of de cypress swamp. De buzzards done

  picked em clean and de elements done bleached em.

  LIGE

  Everybody went to dat draggin out. Even Joe Clarke shet up his store

  dat mornin and went (turns his head and calls into the store) didn't

  you, Mr. Clarke?

  CLARKE'S VOICE

  Didn't I whut? (enters and stands in door)

  LIGE

  Shet up yo' store and go to de draggin out of Brazzle's ole mule.

  CLARKE

  I, God, Yeah. It was worth it. (sees Hambo) I di
dn't know you was out

  here. Lemme beat you uh game of checkers.

  HAMBO

  Lissen at de ole tush hawg! Well, go git de board, and lemme beat you

  a pair of games befo' de mail gits in.

  CLARKE

  (to the others) Beat old me! (to Hambo) Come on here, youse my fish.

  (calls into store) Mattie bring me dat checker-board and de checkers!

  (to men on porch) You got to talk to wimmen-folks lak dat--tell 'em

  every lil' thing-do she'd come rackin out here wid de board by itself.

  (Enter Mrs. Clarke with homemade checker-board and coffee can

  containing the much-used checkers. Clarke sits on a keg and faces

  Hambo. They put the board on their knees and pour out the checkers)

  HAMBO

  You want black or red?

  CLARKE

  Oh, I don't keer which--I'm gointer beat you anyhow. You take de

  black. (they arrange them. The others get near to look on. Hambo sits

  looking at the board without moving.)

  HAMBO

  Who's first move?

  CLARKE

  Black folks always go to work first. Move! (Hambo moves and the same

  proceeds with the spectators very interested. Enter Lum Boger [Note:

  Handwritten correction: Bailey] right and joins the spectators. A

  woman enters left with a market basket and goes on in the store. The

  checkers click on the board. A girl about twelve enters right and goes

  into the store and comes out with a stick of peppermint candy.

  WALTER

  Naw you don't Hambo!--Don't you go in dere! Dats a trap--(pointing)

  come right here and you got him.

  LIGE

  Back dat man up (pointing) Hambo do he'll git et up.

  (there is the noise of the checkers for a half minute then a general

  shout of triumph)

  SPECTATORS

  You got him now, Hambo! Clarke, he's sho got you.

  CLARKE

  (Chagrined) Aw, he aint done nothin! Jes' watch ME.

  HAMBO

  (Jeering) Yeah, gwan move! Ha! Ha! go head and move.

  SPECTATORS

  Aw, he got you, Bro. Mayor--might as well give up. He got you in de

  Louisville loop.

  CLARKE

  Give up what? He can't beat me? (peeved) de rest of y'all git from

  over me, whoopin and hollerin! I God, a man can't hear his ears.

  (The men fall back revealing the players clearly)

  HAMBO

  Aw, neb mind bout them, Joe, go head and move. You aint got but one

  move to make nohow--go head on and take it.

  CLARKE

  (moving a checker) Aw, here.

  HAMBO

  (triumphant) Now! watch me boys whut Ahm gonna do to him. Ahm gonna

  laff in notes, while Ah work on him. (he lifts a checker high in the

  air preparatory to the jump, laughing to the scale and counting each

  checker he jumps out loud) Do, sol, fa, me, la! One! (jumps a checker)

  la, sol, fa, me, do! Two! (jumps another) Do, re, fa, me, do, Three!

  Me, re, la, so, fa! Four! (the crowd is roaring with laughter) Sol,

  fa, me, la, sol, do! Five! Ha! Ha! boys I got [Note: "the" x-ed out]

  de ole tush hawg! I got him in de go-long. (He slaps his leg and

  accidently knocks the board off his knee and spills the checkers.)

  CLARKE

  Too bad you done dat, Hambo, cause Ah was gointer beat you at dat (he

  rises and starts towards the door of the store as the crowd roars in

  laughter)

  HAMBO

  You mean you was gointer beat me to de door, not a game Of checkers.

  Ah done run de ole coon in his hole.

  LIGE

  Well, Hambo, you done got to be so hard at checkers, come on less see

  whut you can do wid de cards. (He pulls out a soiled deck from his

  coat pocket and moves toward the bench at the left of the porch) You

  take Lum and me and Walter will wear you out.

  HAMBO

  You know I don't play no cards.

  LUM

  We aint playin for no money, just a lil Florida flip.

  HAMBO

  Y'all can't play no Florida flip. 'Fore Ah joined de church there

  wasn't a man in de state could beat me wid de cards. But Ahm a deacon

  now, in Macedonia Baptist--Ah don't bother wid de cards no mo". (He

  and Joe Lindsay go inside store)

  LIGE

  Well, come on Lum. Walter, git yo'self a partner.

  WALTER

  (Looking about) Taint nobody to git (looks off right) Here come Dave