copyright © 2004 Clinton A. Johnston

Two Black Girls, One of Them White

By

Clinton A. Johnston

 

Characters

 

Black Black Girl

White Black Girl

Narrator - Af Am male

 

Setting

 

An almost empty city bus on the last ride of the night. 

 

[The girls, tired, just off their respective shifts sit across from each other.  The narrator sits down the aisle from them.  During his recitation, the girls talk to each other, but the audience hears no sound from them.  They are dog tired and their conversation is familiar but understated.]

 

[Nb: This piece was originally performed at All Flashlight No Shame.  The only lights were a light shining on the script so the narrator could read it and a couple flashlights moving across the scene like lights from a passing car.  As the lights would pass someone outside of the scene made the quietest, smoothest sound of a car passing.  The piece was performed solo with three chairs representing a bus aisle, the narrator in one chair down from the two other chairs, which faced each other and represented the girls. - caj]

 

Narrator

 

Front half of the bus

Just us three

Two Black Girls

 

Last ride of the night

On our way home

They ride together

I'm alone.

 

Just in darkness

At the edge of my sight

Two Black Girls

One of them White.

 

Two Black Girls

Too poor for cars

Too tired to not be drinking

Too young for bars

 

Too close to be far

Too far to be near

One of them White

I cock my ear.

 

She works for McDonald's

She works for Marriott

They know each other's jobs

They know what boss each has got

 

They know each other's friends

They went to the same school

This boy's a clown

That one's a fool

 

Too young to be grown

Too old to be kids

Did you hear what so-and-so did?

 

Running the same streets

Grew up in the same town

Two Black Girls

One of them white

Each making the same sound

 

'Cause it's the rhythm, the rhythm, the rhythm, the rhythm

Don't believe the hype

We ride just in darkness

And at the edge of my sight

I hear Two Black Girls

 

Bound by their neighborhood

Bound by their friends

But Bound by their struggle?

 

I think of my Mother

She said never trust them all the way

They won't be there when you're in trouble

Now what would she say?

 

Front half of the bus

Just us three

Too poor for cars

Two Black Girls

Would she

Even remember warning me

Some thirty years ago

 

I grew up in Cincinnati

Came here by way of Philly

I don't talk like they do

When I try, I just sound silly.

 

I think of Devon in college

Who joined a Black Fraternity

Who hooked up with my White neighbor

And talked about me

 

And other Black men on campus

Like he was judge of the race

"Oh, [Your name]'s only half Black.

You can see it in his face."

 

Front half of the bus

On our way home

They ride together

I'm alone.

 

'Cause it's the rhythm, the rhythm,

We ride just in darkness

And at the edge of my sight

I hear Two Black Girls

One of them White.

 

This boy's a fool.

That one's a clown.

Heading for different streets

In the same part of town

 

She works for McDonald's

She works for Marriott

I hear how they're alike

I see how they are not

 

I think of Dr. King

Strange as it may seem

On that Wednesday in August

Could they have been his dream?

 

Too close to be far

Too far to be near

We ride just in darkness

I cock my ear

 

Too old to be kids

Too young to be grown

Last ride of the night

On our way home

 

Front half of the bus

Just us Three

Two Black Girls

And me.

 

[Blackout]

THIS SCRIPT IS COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL AND MAY NOT BE DOWNLOADED, TRANSMITTED, PRINTED OR PERFORMED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR


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