Br'er Cotton

Tearrance Arvelle Chisholm

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9781848427525
• eBook ISBN: 9781788500319
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: American Drama
• Index: Literature

'We talkin' about life. We talkin' about being treated as equals. We talkin' about not being shot down in the streets and motherfuckers gettin' off scot-free.'

Lynchburg, Virginia, on the former site of a cotton mill. Fourteen-year-old Ruffrino is struggling to make sense of his place in an impoverished world filled with seemingly random killings of young black men. As his anger towards reality grows, he moves further away from his family. Losing himself online, Ruffrino's world sinks around him while he battles to wake up the zombies and prove by any means necessary that Black Lives Matter.

Tearrance Arvelle Chisholm's play Br'er Cotton was first seen at Kitchen Dog Theatre, Texas, in 2017, and received its UK premiere at Theatre503, London, in 2018. It was shortlisted for both the Theatre503 Playwriting Award 2016 and the Relentless Award, and won the 2019 Off-West End Award for Best New Play.

ARS POETICA

The cotton field.

MOTHER, a new mother, cradling an infant. Timeless.

This is a lullaby. NADINE fills the beats (…) with music.

MOTHER. Once upon a time out of mind, this land was one great big tall hill.

…

The hill reached up forever; higher and higher. Past the clouds, past the stars, past the moon, to where if you stood on your tippiest-toe on the very top branch of the tallest tree on the highest peak with your arms stretched out as far as it could go, the tip of your longest finger would be just a hair length from touching heaven.

…

Livin’ in the shadow of heaven made everybody terribly happy. Leastwise that’s what they told themselves. Everybody spoke the same language and was generally on the same accord. And even when there were moments of difference, the difference was so slight that capitulation left no lasting wounds. And everyone was contented to live this way.

…

Everyone except Br’er Cotton.

…

…

Everyone on the hill used the same word for ‘peculiar’ and everyone agreed that Br’er Cotton was exactly that.

Because everyone grinned, and he scowled.

Because everyone whispered, and he screamed.

Because everyone sang,

…

and he cursed.

Because everyone was glad to live in such close proximity to heaven, but seeing heaven’s gate from his front porch only served to taunt Br’er Cotton.

…

‘Why should somethin’ so good, be just out of my reach?’, he fumed. ‘Why can’t I enjoy my heaven here on earth?’

…

The unfairness of it all infuriated Br’er Cotton to the point where he could only spit and grind his teeth. Till this one day, no special day in particular, save it was the day that he finally made his decision. On this very ordinary day Br’er Cotton decided he could take it no longer. He was gonna break into heaven.

…

…

…

TWO BIRDS

Lynchburg, VA. The City of Seven Hills.

The eighth and forgotten, ‘Cotton Hill’.

The hill is taking back the house.

A cotton field grows in a kitchen.

The kitchen is sinking.

NADINE enters. She’s wearing a neon polo and khakis. The back of her shirt reads ‘Lovely Maids’.

She uproots the table. And moves it to the other side of the room. She considers it. She uproots the chairs and moves them too. She considers all.

MATTHEW enters. He wears an ancient bathrobe. It looks as if it’s made of tree bark. He has tufts of cotton in his hair. His eyes are tightly closed. He stumbles about blindly. He crashes into the newly placed table. He opens his eyes.

MATTHEW. Damn it Nadine! Why is the table over here?

NADINE. I moved it.

MATTHEW.…

(You moved it huh?)

He considers this. He closes his eyes again and begins to make a mug of coffee.

He makes a great show of how difficult this is to do blind. NADINE ignores him.

NADINE. I’m feng shui-ing.

MATTHEW. Feng shui-ing?

NADINE. Feng shui. It’s the ancient Chinese art of furniture arrangin’.

MATTHEW. I know what it is.

NADINE.…

MATTHEW. (Feng shui. Huh. Everythang we got is trash.)

…

Say, I wonder what this pile a trash look like in this corner? How ’bout we slide this heap uh junk ’gainst that wall. I thank a lil of that debris’ll really open up the space. Huh!

He knocks over his cup of coffee.

Damn it!

With his eyes still shut, he fumbles for a dish towel. He creates a bigger mess.

NADINE. Goddammit you ol’ fool! Move! You just spreading the mess around! You and your stupid ol’-man games.

What are you trying to prove stumblin’ ’round with your eyes pent up anyhow?

NADINE cleans up his mess.

MATTHEW. I’m practicin’.

NADINE. Practicing for what?

MATTHEW. Not bein’ able to see.

NADINE. You goin’ blind now? You just come from the eye doctor and he ain’t said nothin’ ’bout you –

MATTHEW. Is he in my eyes? Can nat man see what I see? Ain’t nothin’ as clear or as bright as it usetuh be! Everythang dull! ’Cause…

NADINE. ’Cause what?

MATTHEW. ’Cause… I’m dyin’, Nadine.

NADINE.…

Well… you mind hurryin’ it along. I gotta get to work.

MATTHEW. Thas cold-blooded.

NADINE. I ain’t got time to be foolin’ with you today, Matthew.

MATTHEW. Ain’t nobody foolin’, Nay. Woke up this mornin’ and there Death was, lyin’ in the bed next to me. Got up and shaved and there he was starin’ right back at me in the mirror. Grinnin’. Thas how come I’m pretendin’ to be blind; I’m tired uh seein’ his face. I figure, with the way he stalkin’ me so, this likely be my last day on this here earth.

NADINE. Is that a fact?

MATTHEW. Sho. I think you oughta take the day off from work.

NADINE. Interestin’. That’s the same mess you fed me yestaday. And like a fool I went ahead and stayed home – in spite of the fact you ain’t name not a single tangible symptom. Then, soon as I call in, you miraculously got better. You even did ya calisthenics in the afternoon –

MATTHEW. Them calisthenics is the only thing that’s keepin’ this ol’ ticker tickin’!

NADINE. I’m jus sayin’. I ain’t seen no more signs of your impending bucket-kickin’. You was all better. Until now. Today. When I’m on my way out the do’ again. If I didn’t know no better, I’d say you didn’t want me to work.

MATTHEW. Well –

NADINE. But that’s crazy right? Seeing as how this family need all the money it can get.

MATTHEW. I got my retirement checks –

NADINE. Yeah, but you get your check on the first and by the fifth you askin’ me to hold twenty dollars.

MATTHEW. Never you mind what I do with my check –

NADINE. Which is exactly why I gotta work.

MATTHEW. But do you gotta work for them?

NADINE. Who? Lovely Maids?

MATTHEW. N...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Contents
• Original Production
• Characters
• Br’er Cotton
• Epilogue
• About the Author
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information