Chapter II: Act ONE: Scene Two

SCENE—_The same corner. Nine years have passed. It is again late
Spring at a time in the evening which immediately follows the hour
of_ SCENE ONE. _Nothing has changed much. One street is still all
white, the other all black. The fire escapes are laden with
drooping human beings. The grocery store is still at the corner.
The street noises are now more rhythmically mechanical,
electricity having taken the place of horse and steam. People
pass, white and black. They laugh as in_ SCENE ONE. _From the
street of the whites the high-pitched nasal tenor sings: “Gee, I
Wish That I Had a Girl,” and the Negro replies with “All I Got Was
Sympathy.” The singing is followed again by laughter from both
streets. Then silence. The dusk grows darker. With a spluttering
flare the arc-lamp at the corner is lit and sheds a pale glare
over the street. Two young roughs slouch up to the corner, as
tough in manner as they can make themselves. One is the_ SHORTY
_of_ SCENE ONE; _the other the Negro_, JOE. _They stand loafing. A
boy of seventeen or so passes by, escorting a girl of about the
same age. Both are dressed in their best, the boy in black with
stiff collar, the girl in white._

SHORTY—[_Scornfully._] Hully cripes! Pipe who’s here. [_To the girl, sneeringly._] Wha’s matter, Liz? Don’t yer recernize yer old fr’ens?

GIRL—[_Frightenedly._] Hello, Shorty.

SHORTY—Why de glad rags? Goin’ to graduation? [_He tries to obstruct their way, but, edging away from him, they turn and run._]

JOE—Har-har! Look at dem scoot, will you! [SHORTY _grins with satisfaction_.]

SHORTY—[_Looking down other street._] Here comes Mickey.

JOE—He won de semi-final last night easy?

SHORTY—Knocked de bloke out in de thoid.

JOE—Dat boy’s suah a-comin’! He’ll be de champeen yit.

SHORTY—[_Judicially._] Got a good chanct—if he leaves de broads alone. Dat’s where he’s wide open. [MICKEY _comes in from the left. He is dressed loudly, a straw hat with a gaudy band cocked over one cauliflower ear. He has acquired a typical “pug’s” face, with the added viciousness of a natural bully. One of his eyes is puffed, almost closed, as a result of his battle the night before. He swaggers up._]

BOTH—Hello, Mickey.

MICKEY—Hello.

JOE—Hear you knocked him col’.

MICKEY—Sure. I knocked his block off. [_Changing the subject._] Say. Seen ’em goin’ past to de graduation racket?

SHORTY—[_With a wink._] Why? You int’rested?

JOE—[_Chuckling._] Mickey’s gwine roun’ git a good conduct medal.

MICKEY—Sure. Dey kin pin it on de seat o’ me pants. [_They laugh._] Listen. Seen Ella Downey goin’?

SHORTY—Painty Face? No, she ain’t been along.

MICKEY—[_With authority._] Can dat name, see! Want a bunch o’ fives in yer kisser? Den nix! She’s me goil, understan’?

JOE—[_Venturing to joke._] Which one? Yo’ number ten?

MICKEY—[_Flattered._] Sure. De real K. O. one.

SHORTY— [_Pointing right—sneeringly._] Gee! Pipe Jim Crow all dolled up for de racket.

JOE—[_With disgusted resentment._] You mean tell me dat nigger’s graduatin’?

SHORTY—Ask him. [JIM HARRIS _comes in. He is dressed in black, stiff white collar, etc.—a quiet-mannered Negro boy with a queerly-baffled, sensitive face._]

JIM—[_Pleasantly._] Hello, fellows. [_They grunt in reply, looking over him scornfully._]

JOE—[_Staring resentfully._] Is you graduatin’ tonight?

JIM—Yes.

JOE—[_Spitting disgustedly._] Fo’ Gawd’s sake! You _is_ gittin’ high-falutin’!

JIM—[_Smiling deprecatingly._] This is my second try. I didn’t pass last year.

JOE—What de hell does it git you, huh? Whatever is you gwine do wid it now you gits it? Live lazy on yo’ ol’ woman?

JIM—[_Assertively._] I’m going to study and become a lawyer.

JOE—[_With a snort._] Fo’ Chris’ sake, nigger!

JIM—[_Fiercely._] Don’t you call me that—not before them!

JOE—[_Pugnaciously._] Does you deny you’s a nigger? I shows you——

MICKEY—[_Gives them both a push—truculently._] Cut it out, see! I’m runnin’ dis corner. [_Turning to_ JIM _insultingly._] Say, you! Painty Face’s gittin’ her ticket tonight, ain’t she?

JIM—You mean Ella——

MICKEY—Painty Face Downey, dat’s who I mean! I don’t have to be perlite wit’ her. She’s me goil!

JIM—[_Glumly._] Yes, she’s graduating.

SHORTY—[_Winks at_ MICKEY.] Smart, huh?

MICKEY—[_Winks back—meaningly._] Willin’ to loin, take it from me! [JIM _stands tensely as if a struggle were going on in him._]

JIM—[_Finally blurts out._] I want to speak to you, Mickey—alone.

MICKEY—[_Surprised—insultingly._] Aw, what de hell——!

JIM—[_Excitedly._] It’s important, I tell you!

MICKEY—Huh? [_Stares at him inquisitively—then motions the others back carelessly and follows_ JIM _down front_.]

SHORTY—Some noive!

JOE—[_Vengefully._] I gits dat Jim alone, you wait!

MICKEY—Well, spill de big news. I ain’t got all night. I got a date.

JIM—With—Ella?

MICKEY—What’s dat to you?

JIM—[_The words tumbling out._] What—I wanted to say! I know—I’ve heard—all the stories—what you’ve been doing around the ward—with other girls—it’s none of my business, with them—but she—Ella—it’s different—she’s not that kind——

MICKEY—[_Insultingly._] Who told yuh so, huh?

JIM—[_Draws back his fist threateningly._] Don’t you dare—! [MICKEY _is so paralyzed by this effrontery that he actually steps back_.]

MICKEY—Say, cut de comedy! [_Beginning to feel insulted._] Listen, you Jim Crow! Ain’t you wise I could give yuh one poke dat’d knock yuh into next week?

JIM—I’m only asking you to act square, Mickey.

MICKEY—What’s it to yuh? Why, yuh lousy goat, she wouldn’t spit on yuh even! She hates de sight of a coon.

JIM—[_In agony._] I—I know—but once she didn’t mind—we were kids together——

MICKEY—Aw, ferget dat! Dis is _now_!

JIM—And I’m still her friend always—even if she don’t like colored people——

MICKEY—_Coons_, why don’t yuh say it right! De trouble wit’ you is yuh’re gittin’ stuck up, dat’s what! Stay where yeh belong, see! Yer old man made coin at de truckin’ game and yuh’re tryin’ to buy yerself white—graduatin’ and law, for Hell’s sake! Yuh’re gittin’ yerself in Dutch wit’ everyone in de ward—and it ain’t cause yer a coon neider. Don’t de gang all train wit’ Joe dere and lots of others? But yuh’re tryin’ to buy white and it won’t git yuh no place, see!

JIM—[_Trembling._] Some day—I’ll show you——

MICKEY—[_Turning away._] Aw, gwan!

JIM—D’you think I’d change—be you—your dirty white——!

MICKEY—[_Whirling about._] What’s dat?

JIM—[_With hysterical vehemence._] You act square with her—or I’ll show you up—I’ll report you—I’ll write to the papers—the sporting writers—I’ll let them know how white you are!

MICKEY—[_Infuriated._] Yuh damn nigger, I’ll bust yer jaw in! [_Assuming his ring pose he weaves toward_ JIM, _his face set in a cruel scowl_. JIM _waits helplessly but with a certain dignity_.]

SHORTY—Cheese it! A couple bulls! And here’s de Downey skoit comin’, too.

MICKEY—I’ll get yuh de next time! [ELLA DOWNEY _enters from the right. She is seventeen, still has the same rose and white complexion, is pretty but with a rather repelling bold air about her._]

ELLA—[_Smiles with pleasure when she sees_ MICKEY.] Hello, Mick. Am I late? Say, I’m so glad you won last night. [_She glances from one to the other as she feels something in the air._] Hello! What’s up?

MICKEY—Dis boob. [_He indicates_ JIM _scornfully_.]

JIM—[_Diffidently._] Hello, Ella.

ELLA—[_Shortly, turning away._] Hello. [_Then to_ MICKEY.] Come on, Mick. Walk down with me. I got to hurry.

JIM—[_Blurts out._] Wait—just a second. [_Painfully._] Ella, do you hate—colored people?

MICKEY—Aw, shut up!

JIM—Please answer.

ELLA—[_Forcing a laugh._] Say! What is this—another exam?

JIM—[_Doggedly._] Please answer.

ELLA—[_Irritably._] Of course I don’t! Haven’t I been brought up alongside—Why, some of my oldest—the girls I’ve been to public school the longest with——

JIM—Do you hate me, Ella?

ELLA—[_Confusedly and more irritably._] Say, is he drunk? Why should I? I don’t hate anyone.

JIM—Then why haven’t you ever hardly spoken to me—for years?

ELLA—[_Resentfully._] What would I speak about? You and me’ve got nothing in common any more.

JIM—[_Desperately._] Maybe not any more—but—right on this corner—do you remember once——?

ELLA—I don’t remember nothing! [_Angrily._] Say! What’s got into you to be butting into my business all of a sudden like this? Because you finally managed to graduate, has it gone to your head?

JIM—No, I—only want to help you, Ella.

ELLA—Of all the nerve! You’re certainly forgetting your place! Who’s asking you for help, I’d like to know? Shut up and stop bothering me!

JIM—[_Insistently._] If you ever need a friend—a true friend——

ELLA—I’ve got lots of friends among my own—kind, I can tell you. [_Exasperatedly._] You make me sick! Go to—hell! [_She flounces off. The three men laugh._ MICKEY _follows her_. JIM _is stricken. He goes and sinks down limply on a box in front of the grocery store._]

SHORTY—I’m going to shoot a drink. Come on, Joe, and I’ll blow yuh.

JOE—[_Who has never ceased to follow every move of_ JIM’S _with angry, resentful eyes_.] Go long. I’se gwine stay here a secon’. I got a lil’ argyment. [_He points to_ JIM.]

SHORTY—Suit yerself. Do a good job. See yuh later. [_He goes, whistling._]

JOE—[_Stands for a while glaring at_ JIM, _his fierce little eyes peering out of his black face. Then he spits on his hands aggressively and strides up to the oblivious_ JIM. _He stands in front of him, gradually working himself into a fury at the other’s seeming indifference to his words._] Listen to me, nigger: I got a heap to whisper in yo’ ear! Who is you, anyhow? Who does you think you is? Don’t yo’ old man and mine work on de docks togidder befo’ yo’ old man gits his own truckin’ business? Yo’ ol’ man swallers his nickels, my ol’ man buys him beer wid dem and swallers dat—dat’s the on’y diff’rence. Don’t you ‘n’ me drag up togidder?

JIM—[_Dully._] I’m your friend, Joe.

JOE—No, you isn’t! I ain’t no fren o’ yourn! I don’t even know who you is! What’s all dis schoolin’ you doin’? What’s all dis dressin’ up and graduatin’ an’ sayin’ you gwine study be a lawyer? What’s all dis fakin’ an’ pretendin’ and swellin’ out grand an’ talkin’ soft and perlite? What’s all dis denyin’ you’s a nigger—an’ wid de white boys listenin’ to you say it! Is you aimin’ to buy white wid yo’ ol’ man’s dough like Mickey say? What is you? [_In a rage at the other’s silence._] You don’t talk? Den I takes it out o’ yo’ hide! [_He grabs_ JIM _by the throat with one hand and draws the other fist back_.] Tell me befo’ I wrecks yo’ face in! Is you a nigger or isn’t you? [_Shaking him._] Is you a nigger, Nigger? Nigger, is you a nigger?

JIM—[_Looking into his eyes—quietly._] Yes. I’m a nigger. We’re both niggers. [_They look at each other for a moment._ JOE’S _rage vanishes. He slumps onto a box beside_ JIM’S. _He offers him a cigarette._ JIM _takes it._ JOE _scratches a match and lights both their cigarettes_.]

JOE—[_After a puff, with full satisfaction._] Man, why didn’t you ’splain dat in de fust place?

JIM—We’re both niggers. [_The same hand-organ man of_ SCENE ONE _comes to the corner. He plays the chorus of “Bonbon Buddie,” the “Chocolate Drop.” They both stare straight ahead listening. Then the organ man goes away. A silence._ JOE _gets to his feet_.]

JOE—I’ll go get me a cold beer. [_He starts to move off—then turns._] Time you was graduatin’, ain’t it? [_He goes_, JIM _remains sitting on his box staring straight before him as_

[_The Curtain Falls_]