Pierce to the Soul – Version 18 3/28/2010
Act 1 & 2
Pierce to the Soul
by Chiquita Mullins Lee
Act One
At rise, the barber shop is dimly lit as late afternoon light flows into the open window. From outside come the sounds of honking horns and traffic brushing past. We hear noises offstage as someone rummages through boxes frantically searching for something. The phone rings, then we hear the sound of slow, steady footsteps.
MR. PIERCE
Hold on. Be right there.
Elijah Pierce, a tall, slender, dark-skinned man emerges from upstage left. He has closely-cropped salt and pepper hair and appears to be much younger than his actual age of 90. He wears an overcoat, a dress shirt, vest, dress pants, and a tie. His imposing presence commands respect. He carries a long elaborately carved walking stick, and at times, walks with a limp, using the walking stick as support. As the phone rings, he clicks on the light and notices the audience.
MR. PIERCE
Well, look at y’all. I ain’t gone be here long.Y’all better come back next week. Have you heard the news? Big doin’s tomorrow. Estelle’s coming soon to take me to the airport.
He answers the phone.
This is… Hello …Just missed it.
He turns away from the phone.
I hope y’all didn’t come in here for a haircut. I don’t do that no more. I retired.
I gotta find a carving. Just the right carving.
He exits. The phone rings. He rushes in, limping. Answers the phone.
Hello… Hold on…
He catches his breath.
Hey, Estelle…No, I just got here…No, I’m trying to find it...No, honey, the blue tie. Don’t forget my gray vest. That’s a sharp vest…Which ever one you want…Yeah. I…I realize that…I’m trying to do that…But all these folks is in here… listens) I don’t know who they are. (listens) I told ‘em, but they won’t leave…I’ll call you back when I find it.
He hangs up the phone and looks at the audience.
Houseful of folks. White folks, too. Y’all okay being on this side of town? Safety in numbers, I guess.
And where all these women come from?
He speaks to a woman in the audience.
You want me to give you a haircut? I have cut a woman’s hair before.
My godson and his mother was always stopping by. One time, she wanted me to give her a haircut.
She had just grown her bangs and she had on a wig she wanted me to cut. And she said, “Now, Mr. Pierce, don't cut my HAIR, just CUT THE WIG.”
I messed up. I cut the wig. Just like she asked. But I also cut off her bangs and the hair on the back of her head. When she took off the wig, looked like she had a sideways Mohawk. I guess you know that was the last time I ever cut a woman’s hair.
I’d love to keep talking to y’all, but I can’t right now.
Y’all really gone have to go.
He looks through some boxes, then picks up two carvings and looks at them. He turns to the audience and holds up the carvings.
Do you think Nancy Reagan would like one of these? President Kennedy or Dr. King?
[The audience laughs or responds]
No, I guess not.
He continues looking for something. He looks on shelves, through boxes. Picks up a carving. Looks at it. Shakes his head and puts the carving down.
He invites an audience member to come to the stage.
Hey. I need you to help me. This hip, you know. Come on over here.
The person comes onstage.
See these boxes. Dig around, will you, and show me what’s in there. I’m looking for just the right carving.
The audience member searches.
To the man searching.
What do you see in there?
The audience member answers Pierce and pulls out pieces of wood in various sizes from the box.
Pierce speaks in the man.
That ain’t what I’m looking for.These days, a lot of my carvings ain’t even here. I send them to be in different exhibits. They could be anywhere between here and California .
He speaks to the audience.
I been carving since I was this high.
Pierce speaks to the audience member onstage and points downstage.
You know, you might find something down there. Take a look over there in those boxes.
Pierce resumes speaking to the audience.
When I was by myself, I’d pick up a stick and just start whittling away. I can't say how good I was at it. But I liked to do it. It was a hobby. Just a habit really.
Barbering ain’t much different from carving. I can look at a piece of wood and see what it’s gonna be. And I can just look at your head and tell what'll work for you. You got to know what to cut and what to keep.
Pierce speaks to the man from the audience.
That’s awright. Come have a seat.
The man stops searching and sits in the barber chair. Pierce picks up a pair of clippers and speaks to the man in the chair.
He looks like a Brush Cut man -- he got a nice shaped head so his hair would look good if it's cut even all over.
I wouldn’t say that just to get your business. I'm going to tell you the truth. Even if I thought your head was so bad off, you'd do better to just wear a hat.
Naw. I never met a man who couldn't do with a little trim.
Pierce turns on the clippers and moves in as if he’s about to start cutting. Pierce turns the clippers off.
Awright, go on, get up. You can go.
He pats the man on his back and motions for him to go.
Not to your seat. I meant out the door.
From outside, we hear the blasting horn of a moving car. Pierce looks out the window.
And if you don’t mind, can the rest of y’all go, too?
He stares at the audience, contemplating them.
I’m headed to Washington , D.C. Big gallery opening.
And guess who’s gonna be there.
The first lady of the United States . That’s right. Tomorrow, I shake hands with Nancy Reagan. She down there in D.C. right now getting ready.
Don’t ask me about her husband. Ain’t enough time to get started on him. And ain’t enough time to talk to y’all.
He walks toward the exit
Really… ya’ll might as well go on. Be glad to talk to you next week. But right now I gotta find a carving.
I’m going in to my gallery here to search and that might take me hours, so you all’d be better off going home. I won’t be back anytime soon. Bye.
He exits. A few moments later, he peeks into the shop and sees them still sitting there.
He studies them for a moment.
Um, um, um. Y’all really must be curious about Pierce.
You know curiosity killed the cat.
He gestures to indicate the size of the crowd.
Every time I turn around, here come some more folks…writing books… making films… planning exhibits…
Camera men…TV reporters…interviewers… Life Magazine, Ebony Magazine…looking for the “great folk artist …”
Suddenly, everybody’s so curious.
Art dealers…asking about my life… “How did you do it?”... Ain’t nothin’ magical about it.
He points to the sign in his shop.
The sign on the shop tell you everything you need to know about me. Sign say, “Elijah Pierce – Woodcarver.”
I just like to carve wood.
I understand what it’s like to be curious about things. Shoot, I always was.
Back home, I worked on the farm with my father and my brothers...in Mississippi . My father was an independent farmer… And he was very successful. Always made a good crop. My brothers and sisters was just like my father…loved the farm. Loved it. I didn't.
What was out there beyond that little log cabin I was born in? That’s what I wanted to know. Let me see what’s going on in the world!
When I was around thirteen years old, after I got through with my farming chores, I’d go where the men was laughing, having a good time, talking about the world outside Mississippi.
My father ask me, “Elijah, where you rushing off to?”
As himself.
“To the barber shop.”
As his father.
“You was just down there yesterday.”
As himself.
“I’m just listening to the men talk.”
“Son, you too young to be going down there. You’re liable to hear the wrong thing.”
Every chance I got, I was in the barber shop.
The men brought the world in there with ‘em and I ate it up. They talked about the big cities they’d been to, flashy clothes, skyscrapers, the nightclubs and them fast women!
I couldn’t wait see all that for myself.
And I’d watch the fellas cutting hair…standing behind the chair…in charge.Talking about what was going on in the world. Making the men look better, feel better. Barbering – that looked like something I wanted to do.
The barber was joking with me, "What are you trying to do, boy? Steal a trade?"
As himself.
“Yes, sir. I want to learn to do it the right way.”
I'd watch that barber and then I'd practice on my brothers…when I could catch ‘em.
I was down at the barber shop one day, and we’d been waiting on the regular barber to get there for a half hour. I was sitting there whittling and looking at this one man. Look like he hadn’t seen a pair of clippers in four years. And in my mind I’m thinking, "Buddy, you need some help. In a hurry." Look like he ain't seen a pair of clippers in four years. All of a sudden, he turns to me.
As the man.
"Slim. You think you can take a little off the sides."
To audience.
Well, he needs a whole lot more than that, but I say:
As himself.
“Yeah, I can do it.”
To audience.
I figure he won't be any worse off when I get through. I work the clippers and when I’m done, the fella, he brushes himself off, looks in the mirror, and runs his hand over his head. Then he hands me a coin and says, “Slim, you a good man. See you in a coupla months.”
Yeah, he looked pretty good.
So, the barber in Baldwyn who cut the white folks hair? He gets sick. And he hires me out to cover for him. See, along in the early days, you didn't hardly ever see a white barber. Colored barbers always cut the white people's hair. So, I'm working, folks coming in regular. Well, the man died. And I take over his shop. I became my own boss – I was only about 16 years old.
Barbering was a good way to keep some money in my pocket and get me off the farm.
But then I get a little curious about something else.
He addresses a couple in the audience.
You set your mind one way and all of a sudden you say, “Let me go find out about that over there.” You know… something pretty catches your eye? That happen to you?
When I was a young man, I liked the women. Tell you that right now. Ever since I was a little boy. And after I got to be a teenager? Shoot! And don’t let one of them wink at me.
Speaks to a woman in the audience.
Did you just wink at me?
Good thing for me, women liked me, too. The quiet ones liked me. The ones who was always cracking jokes, liked me. The ones who already had a boyfriend…liked me. I figure if I could say something to put a smile on their face, then I was all right.
This one young lady... she was watching me on the sly – staring at me one minute, and looking away when I looked at her.
I say, “What’s your name, Miss Lady? Don’t act like you ain’t looking.”
“I ain’t thinking about you, Elijah Pierce.”
“Well, how you know my name?”
She say, “I heard about you.”
Her name was Carrie Beene. Pretty. She was one of them slow-talking, big leg girls. Big pretty legs. We liked to follow each other around. Me behind her. Her behind me. Flirting.
If I wasn’t at the barber shop, I was on the back porch with Carrie Beene. We’d talk all night long. Well, I did most of the talking. As the night wore on, we did a lot less talking.If you know what I mean.
My mother tried to tell me. “Son, you got to be careful. You can’t get carried away ‘cause somebody blow on your ear. You ready to be somebody’s daddy?”
But it was too late. Carrie Beene, she had my son, Arthur.
That was in 1911. But I didn’t know how to be a father. I was nineteen years old. I was still trying to have a little fun on the side.
That didn’t set too well with my mother and father. “He oughta be working on this farm insteada wasting his time chasing after women”… “And the one that had his baby, is he gone marry the girl?”… “He don’t act like it.”
That didn’t set too well with Carrie, either, cause she quit me. Being so curious got me in trouble.
So I moved on…and every time I turn around, there’s always a lady walking by, smiling up at me.
And I fell for a woman again. Zetta Palm. Sweetest woman I ever met. Never did see her without a smile on her face...with them dimples. When I was with her, I wasn’t thinking about no other woman. All she had to do was show up that pretty white dress and I’d give her anything she want.
To a woman in the audience member.
You remember the first time you really fell in love?
He waits for her to answer.
That him?
Mr. Pierce laughs.
Zetta and me, we wanted to get married and have our own little family… a houseful of kids. She was always talkin’ ‘bout, “We gone make some pretty babies...”
Yeah, I got all caught up in it. The fantasy, you know. Everything with us was gonna be …perfect.
Mother pulled me to the side. “Son, listen to me. You say you want to settle down with this one, but are you ready to be a husband?”
I didn’t listen. I married Zetta.
She gave me my second son. Willie. He was our only child.
Zetta died giving birth to Willie.
He ponders for a moment. The loss, the irony.
Me and Zetta had one year together.
I grieved for a time…I was a 23 year old widower with two small children.
Then, I started getting out there again. When I wasn’t barbering, I was hanging out all night, dancing. Playing them Memphis blues on the piano.
I liked to get with the people and have a good time. Loved to dance. They'd ask, say, “Slim, you goin’ to the party? We havin’ a party, you comin, ain’t you? When you ain’t there, the party ain’t no good.’”
Well, I’d have everybody up dancing. Couldn’t nobody sit down if I was there, especially if they were drinking. Everybody had to be on the dance floor and making noise.
And I was playing baseball.
A lot of the games was on Sunday when I shoulda been in church.
On Sunday, you couldn’t buy liquor, didn’t go to work, and better not be hanging with rowdies on the ball field. If you wasn’t in church, whatever you was doing was wrong.
Along in those days, ball players had a bad reputation. There was always a bunch of gambling and fighting and drinking. I didn’t care about all that foolishness, but I loved to play baseball. Loved it.
My team was in Tupelo , Mississippi …standing on the train platform waiting to head home. I sat there on the bench with my pocket knife. Whittlin’ away when one of my teammates came up.
As his teammate. “Slim, you was playing some ball, today! Knocking them out right and left.
As himself. “I guess I did all right.”
As his teammate.
Man, when you ain’t here, the team don’t half play. Can’t win without the star player.”
As himself.
“Well ….
Suddenly, folks on the platform are all excited and they whispering something and pointing across the street. I look and see four or five white men. They all running. I say,
To his teammate.
“Something’s up.”
As his teammate.
"Do something for me, Slim. I got this gun I need to get rid of.
As himself
“What you doing with a gun?’
As his teammate.
“I always got my pistol. No telling what might happen.”
As himself.
“Man, if they catch you…
As his teammate.
“That’s why you got to take it, Slim. You can hide it better ‘cause you got on a coat. Folk know not to mess with the Star Player!”
As himself.
“Well, I do have this inside pocket -- yeah, give it here. I guess I can handle it…”
Something said, “Don’t take that gun…” But I wasn’t listening. I was telling myself. “Ain’t nothing gone happen. Ain’t nobody’s paying us no attention. I got everything under control.”
So I stick the gun in my pocket. Now, this policeman walks by and he sees us. It’s about thirty of us. He walks up to me and tells me, “Put 'em up.” I stick my hands up. Why is he bothering me?
He pats me down, feels that gun and snatches it outta my pocket. I felt like a brand new fool.
Just then, we hear all this noise down at the end of the street. Big ol’ nasty truck speeding by…white men riding the sideboards.