20.
AS IT WERE
“We’ll Always Have Neverly”
Starring Ronnie and Patrice
Written and Illustrated by Tiffany Osedra Miller
Now, re-introducing to you, a Soap Opera of sorts, a Soursop Opera, if you will, or more aptly, a post-plantation meditation on the melodrama and melancholy of ‘mancipation: As It Were, starring Chocolate Ronnie and Abigail “Redbone” Patrice. Presented by, Soursop Soda Pop – it’s sweet, it’s hip, it’ll get rid of your gas and make you…and Ebony to Ivory Bleach – when you want to get those dirty nighties purrrly white…
[In this week’s episode, we catch up with our swarthy-ish screen idols a few years after they were mercifully released from bondage. But freedom, as our dear emancipated protagonists are discovering, though fairly awesome and all, can be a complicated blessing]
(Setting: The Redbone Yellow Gentleman’s Club, in a city on an island, on an island in a city. Music: As It Were: Lyrics: Daniel “Jiiiive” Turnkey, Keyboard: Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus, Vocals: Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus and Abigail “Redbone” Patrice, Lighting: La Fetelight)
(Ronnie enters the Redbone Yellow Gentleman’s Club just after the club’s resident Chorus Girls, The Coco-know-nuttins, finish their most popular dance number, “Cane In A Sugar- Bush Tea,” to wild applause. The scene is tropical, complete with palm trees, sand, steel pan and a group of jamming calypsonians. Ronnie looks around, wipes sweat from his brow, asks some important looking people a few questions, sits at the bar and orders a rum and Soursop Soda. He stops Patrice, a Coco-know-nuttin Chorus Girl, as she heads backstage. The following scene takes place near the bar counter as stagehands in the background change the set from tropical to a cold, dirty, northern city street. Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus takes his place at the piano and, with hands hovering above the keyboard, he affixes a smile to his face and patiently waits in a frieze, in the dim, atmospheric light)
Ronnie: Patrice, darling! I’m back.
Patrice: Sweet Jesus, Ronnie! You startled me. I didn’t recognize you at first.
Ronnie: You didn’t? Well, everything’s gonna be alright now, sugar apple. Come with me.
Patrice: Ronnie, I can’t just up and leave…I’m back on in ten minutes –
Ronnie: We loved each other once…
Patrice: Yes, Ronnie, I know that.
Ronnie: During a truly difficult time.
Patrice: Tell me about it, my Brother.
Ronnie: We could be lovers again.
Patrice: I’ve moved on Ronnie. Look at me. I’ve changed so much since slavery ended. I’ve filled out a bit, fixed my nappy hair, got my titties done. I’m still trying to figure out what to do about my nose…you know the deal. You’ve changed, too.
Ronnie: Sure, we’re both a little older, a little finer, a little freer…(he reaches for her arm and she recoils) Hey, wait a minute, now, sugar apple. Don’t you want your Ronnie anymore? Don’t you want to get away from this place with your Ronnie? You’re better than this, Patrice.
Patrice: Really? As I recall, before we left Neverly Plantation you said wanted your freedom more than you wanted me. You said you wanted everything Ole Master Roberts had, then you took to the open road and left. (he reaches for her again but Patrice turns away from him) I’m afraid it’s too late for us, Ronnie.
Ronnie: Forgive me, Patrice. Freedom had this strange effect on me...(The lights go out over Ronnie and Patrice as Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus, playing a stirring piano intro, is illuminated beneath a spotlight)
Tom:
(sings)
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
Well hello again, My Free Lady.
If it’s truly the end of the lash and the chain,
Why you still got cotton stuck under them painted fingernails and
Why everybody still talking ‘bout my big brown sugar cane?
As It Were, me and you got some troubled history. Who doesn’t?
So what me and you have a black checkered paaaaast
I for one am not partial to juju, church or therapy
All I need is to get a hold of your fine, redbone ass.
(The song ends as the spotlight goes dark over Tom and once again illuminates Ronnie and Patrice. Patrice, in spite of herself, moves a little closer to Ronnie)
Patrice: Well, freedom surely had its effects on me too.
Ronnie: Then come back with me. Live with me and be my love. I’ve got everything you can ever need or want. Ole Master Roberts hired me as overseer back on Neverly Plantation to help keep the freed slaves who work there in line. Ain’t that a trip?!
Patrice: Oh Ronnie, what an honor!
Ronnie: We affectionately call the freed slaves “freeloaders” now and oh boy are those freeloaders a funny and feisty bunch! And we’re so much better off, I think. We get an unlivable wage now, but come on, any wage is a fortune to a former slave. Am I right!? And Master Roberts gives me a little extra.
Patrice: I don’t know, Ronnie, a Sister gots to get paid.
Ronnie: A Brother gots to get paid, too! It just takes some time is all. You want to hear something funny? I pretend to treat the freeloaders kinda rough when the Ole Former Master’s in ear shot. Just to show whose boss! Ha ha. When Former Massa Roberts not around though, I keep reminding them it’s me, their boy, Reveler Ronnie, and that I used to be enslaved right along side them, too. I say to them, “come on, fam, don’t get mad. I’m your brother. I’m your son. I’m your daddy.” But they keep saying they don’t recognize me anymore. It’s kinda driving me crazy, Patrice. I don’t look that different, do I? Do I? (Patrice hesitates then shakes her head, no) Everyday, I beg them to work hard to improve their lot in life and become a credit to our race.
Patrice: You’ve always been a visionary. (she lights a cigarette)
Ronnie: But they need education, Patrice. So do you, apparently. If you agree to marry me, you won’t have to lift another finger the rest of your life. And you won’t have to dance like this to pay your rent. You’ll be a respectable woman, I tell ya. Once I’ve saved up enough money, we won’t need to accept anymore handouts. And check it, both you and I are light enough to “pass.” Together we could take a risk and open us up a small business somewhere without people sweating us for sorta being the wrong color. We could even manage us a chain of prisons. I’ve heard there’s lots of money in that. Better yet, with Master Roberts permission, we could start a school. Yeah. How about that, Patrice? A school! We could call it The School of Assimilation and acquire us a few acres, with a megachurch, a cricket yard and a tennis court right there on the property. And babies, Patrice! You’d bear me lots of babies. Except instead of calling them babies, we’d call them Futures. Bright Futures.
Patrice: Babies! Oh, for the love of God. I like how I dance Ronnie and I like my colorin’, mostly, though I do use a little lightener if I’ve had too much sun. But who doesn’t? And as I recall you like how I dance too, or use to.
Ronnie: You can’t mean this?! You actually enjoy dancing for these stiff Aristocrats? Since slavery ended, I’ve enrolled in a series of Sophisticated Studies Classes, Patrice, and I’ve learned that there are two types of people in this world: those who dance for Aristocrats and those who oversee all the dancehalls the Aristocrats own. (He looks into her eyes intently and points his index finger towards her face, nearly touching her nose) Now, sistuh, you tell me which one of those you wanna be.
Patrice: (bursts into tears) All I’ve ever done is dance for the distinc’ pleasure of Aristocrats, Ronnie. I don’t know how to do nothin’ else. And free or not I don’t never ever want to go back to Neverly. Do you know what it’s like just to be able to sleep in every morning? I’ve got access to over one thousand cable channels, Ronnie. One thousand! And best believe I ain’t giving up my Ebony To Ivory Bleach. Nothing else gets my dirty nighties so hella white. I also will not give up my unreliable bus schedule, or my 3 dollar and 75 cent dollar cab rides to the train or my 5 cent red juices or my 6 packs of Malta or my jumbo bags of plantain chips that I can get anytime I want at the 24 hour corner store. Nobody puts Patrice back on the plantation. It’s Patrice who calls Patrice’s shots.
Ronnie: (the lights flicker as Ronnie backs away. Eyes open wide with sorrow and terror, he looks up suddenly as if searching the heavens) Is there somebody else, Patrice? Kindly tell me you are not making time with this-this broke, dusky, piano-tuning joker over here. (Ronnie gestures towards Tom who politely taps his fingers over the keys. Patrice shakes her head) Well then, why don’t you want me anymore? Do I look that different? Do I look that badly to you?
Patrice: You are still very handsome, Ronnie, but you’re just more stiff, pale and ashy than I remember. Your skin feels so cold and damp.
Ronnie: Well, I-I’ve got a fever. My temperature just don’t know what it wants to be.
Patrice: I gotta go back onstage in a minute, Ronnie.
Ronnie: Oh, I see. You get you a little taste of freedom and then you don’t know “nothin’ ‘bout no slavery no mo’.” Ain’t that some shit? How could you offend our ancestors like this? Huh!? Answer me, woman! I told you I was either gonna send for you once I got settled into my freedom or come back for you. I told you! I’ve come back and now you’re turning me away? Please tell me we didn’t work for nothing all those back breaking years for nothing. Tell me!
Patrice: (she moves toward him and he recoils) Ronnie, don’t –
Ronnie: I hate to say this, my Sister, but with all due respect, you are lost! (Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus lights up and plays a shorter piano intro. The lights also stay on Patrice. Ronnie, distraught, storms out of the club)
Patrice: (falling to her knees) Lost! Me!? Nooooo! Could it be true? Ronnnnie, come back. Don’t leave me again. Oh Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, what did I ever do in my whole wretched life to deserve the distraction of such drama? Am I just in cable bill of dreaming big? Shit! I gotta pay my cable bill before they shut the damn thing off. Who gon’ pay my cable bill, Ronnie?! Not your broke overseeing ass! (she yells in the direction he left) Being free means I gotta do that myself. Aye me…What do you make of it all, Tom?
Tom: (smiles and sings) Well now, as you know, Miss Patrice, whenever there’s a history between Him and Her, There’s bound to be some (cough) As It Were…
Patrice: (standing up and looking longingly in the direction Ronnie exited, a soft, sad, golden spotlight illuminating her face) If you only knew how much I loves you Rondell Roberts. I loves you and freedom more than anything else in this disgusting world. I swear! If you only knew… (She walks and sits lasciviously atop Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus’ piano)
Tom and Patrice:
(sing)
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
When your cold heart starts to stir
You know you been affected by some of that ole As It Were…
This was the story of a captivated lover turned Overseer
Still in love with his former gal friend who like him, was for a time enslaved.
A formerly enslaved man will always love the woman he endured slavery with
‘Til he marches, in chains or chainless, to the grave.
So whenever you feel tempted to get some As It Were
And you fear you’ll never be free from him or her
Remember that it’s wiser to keep on rolling on…like a drifting river or a lingering song.
If you’re the sort of dreamer who believes you can live happily ever after –
(Before you reach the hereafter)
In some ways you may be dreaming right
But in most ways, dahling, you’re dreaming wroooooong.
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
END
AS IT WERE
“We’ll Always Have Neverly”
Starring Ronnie and Patrice
Written and Illustrated by Tiffany Osedra Miller
Now, re-introducing to you, a Soap Opera of sorts, a Soursop Opera, if you will, or more aptly, a post-plantation meditation on the melodrama and melancholy of ‘mancipation: As It Were, starring Chocolate Ronnie and Abigail “Redbone” Patrice. Presented by, Soursop Soda Pop – it’s sweet, it’s hip, it’ll get rid of your gas and make you…and Ebony to Ivory Bleach – when you want to get those dirty nighties purrrly white…
[In this week’s episode, we catch up with our swarthy-ish screen idols a few years after they were mercifully released from bondage. But freedom, as our dear emancipated protagonists are discovering, though fairly awesome and all, can be a complicated blessing]
(Setting: The Redbone Yellow Gentleman’s Club, in a city on an island, on an island in a city. Music: As It Were: Lyrics: Daniel “Jiiiive” Turnkey, Keyboard: Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus, Vocals: Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus and Abigail “Redbone” Patrice, Lighting: La Fetelight)
(Ronnie enters the Redbone Yellow Gentleman’s Club just after the club’s resident Chorus Girls, The Coco-know-nuttins, finish their most popular dance number, “Cane In A Sugar- Bush Tea,” to wild applause. The scene is tropical, complete with palm trees, sand, steel pan and a group of jamming calypsonians. Ronnie looks around, wipes sweat from his brow, asks some important looking people a few questions, sits at the bar and orders a rum and Soursop Soda. He stops Patrice, a Coco-know-nuttin Chorus Girl, as she heads backstage. The following scene takes place near the bar counter as stagehands in the background change the set from tropical to a cold, dirty, northern city street. Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus takes his place at the piano and, with hands hovering above the keyboard, he affixes a smile to his face and patiently waits in a frieze, in the dim, atmospheric light)
Ronnie: Patrice, darling! I’m back.
Patrice: Sweet Jesus, Ronnie! You startled me. I didn’t recognize you at first.
Ronnie: You didn’t? Well, everything’s gonna be alright now, sugar apple. Come with me.
Patrice: Ronnie, I can’t just up and leave…I’m back on in ten minutes –
Ronnie: We loved each other once…
Patrice: Yes, Ronnie, I know that.
Ronnie: During a truly difficult time.
Patrice: Tell me about it, my Brother.
Ronnie: We could be lovers again.
Patrice: I’ve moved on Ronnie. Look at me. I’ve changed so much since slavery ended. I’ve filled out a bit, fixed my nappy hair, got my titties done. I’m still trying to figure out what to do about my nose…you know the deal. You’ve changed, too.
Ronnie: Sure, we’re both a little older, a little finer, a little freer…(he reaches for her arm and she recoils) Hey, wait a minute, now, sugar apple. Don’t you want your Ronnie anymore? Don’t you want to get away from this place with your Ronnie? You’re better than this, Patrice.
Patrice: Really? As I recall, before we left Neverly Plantation you said wanted your freedom more than you wanted me. You said you wanted everything Ole Master Roberts had, then you took to the open road and left. (he reaches for her again but Patrice turns away from him) I’m afraid it’s too late for us, Ronnie.
Ronnie: Forgive me, Patrice. Freedom had this strange effect on me...(The lights go out over Ronnie and Patrice as Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus, playing a stirring piano intro, is illuminated beneath a spotlight)
Tom:
(sings)
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
Well hello again, My Free Lady.
If it’s truly the end of the lash and the chain,
Why you still got cotton stuck under them painted fingernails and
Why everybody still talking ‘bout my big brown sugar cane?
As It Were, me and you got some troubled history. Who doesn’t?
So what me and you have a black checkered paaaaast
I for one am not partial to juju, church or therapy
All I need is to get a hold of your fine, redbone ass.
(The song ends as the spotlight goes dark over Tom and once again illuminates Ronnie and Patrice. Patrice, in spite of herself, moves a little closer to Ronnie)
Patrice: Well, freedom surely had its effects on me too.
Ronnie: Then come back with me. Live with me and be my love. I’ve got everything you can ever need or want. Ole Master Roberts hired me as overseer back on Neverly Plantation to help keep the freed slaves who work there in line. Ain’t that a trip?!
Patrice: Oh Ronnie, what an honor!
Ronnie: We affectionately call the freed slaves “freeloaders” now and oh boy are those freeloaders a funny and feisty bunch! And we’re so much better off, I think. We get an unlivable wage now, but come on, any wage is a fortune to a former slave. Am I right!? And Master Roberts gives me a little extra.
Patrice: I don’t know, Ronnie, a Sister gots to get paid.
Ronnie: A Brother gots to get paid, too! It just takes some time is all. You want to hear something funny? I pretend to treat the freeloaders kinda rough when the Ole Former Master’s in ear shot. Just to show whose boss! Ha ha. When Former Massa Roberts not around though, I keep reminding them it’s me, their boy, Reveler Ronnie, and that I used to be enslaved right along side them, too. I say to them, “come on, fam, don’t get mad. I’m your brother. I’m your son. I’m your daddy.” But they keep saying they don’t recognize me anymore. It’s kinda driving me crazy, Patrice. I don’t look that different, do I? Do I? (Patrice hesitates then shakes her head, no) Everyday, I beg them to work hard to improve their lot in life and become a credit to our race.
Patrice: You’ve always been a visionary. (she lights a cigarette)
Ronnie: But they need education, Patrice. So do you, apparently. If you agree to marry me, you won’t have to lift another finger the rest of your life. And you won’t have to dance like this to pay your rent. You’ll be a respectable woman, I tell ya. Once I’ve saved up enough money, we won’t need to accept anymore handouts. And check it, both you and I are light enough to “pass.” Together we could take a risk and open us up a small business somewhere without people sweating us for sorta being the wrong color. We could even manage us a chain of prisons. I’ve heard there’s lots of money in that. Better yet, with Master Roberts permission, we could start a school. Yeah. How about that, Patrice? A school! We could call it The School of Assimilation and acquire us a few acres, with a megachurch, a cricket yard and a tennis court right there on the property. And babies, Patrice! You’d bear me lots of babies. Except instead of calling them babies, we’d call them Futures. Bright Futures.
Patrice: Babies! Oh, for the love of God. I like how I dance Ronnie and I like my colorin’, mostly, though I do use a little lightener if I’ve had too much sun. But who doesn’t? And as I recall you like how I dance too, or use to.
Ronnie: You can’t mean this?! You actually enjoy dancing for these stiff Aristocrats? Since slavery ended, I’ve enrolled in a series of Sophisticated Studies Classes, Patrice, and I’ve learned that there are two types of people in this world: those who dance for Aristocrats and those who oversee all the dancehalls the Aristocrats own. (He looks into her eyes intently and points his index finger towards her face, nearly touching her nose) Now, sistuh, you tell me which one of those you wanna be.
Patrice: (bursts into tears) All I’ve ever done is dance for the distinc’ pleasure of Aristocrats, Ronnie. I don’t know how to do nothin’ else. And free or not I don’t never ever want to go back to Neverly. Do you know what it’s like just to be able to sleep in every morning? I’ve got access to over one thousand cable channels, Ronnie. One thousand! And best believe I ain’t giving up my Ebony To Ivory Bleach. Nothing else gets my dirty nighties so hella white. I also will not give up my unreliable bus schedule, or my 3 dollar and 75 cent dollar cab rides to the train or my 5 cent red juices or my 6 packs of Malta or my jumbo bags of plantain chips that I can get anytime I want at the 24 hour corner store. Nobody puts Patrice back on the plantation. It’s Patrice who calls Patrice’s shots.
Ronnie: (the lights flicker as Ronnie backs away. Eyes open wide with sorrow and terror, he looks up suddenly as if searching the heavens) Is there somebody else, Patrice? Kindly tell me you are not making time with this-this broke, dusky, piano-tuning joker over here. (Ronnie gestures towards Tom who politely taps his fingers over the keys. Patrice shakes her head) Well then, why don’t you want me anymore? Do I look that different? Do I look that badly to you?
Patrice: You are still very handsome, Ronnie, but you’re just more stiff, pale and ashy than I remember. Your skin feels so cold and damp.
Ronnie: Well, I-I’ve got a fever. My temperature just don’t know what it wants to be.
Patrice: I gotta go back onstage in a minute, Ronnie.
Ronnie: Oh, I see. You get you a little taste of freedom and then you don’t know “nothin’ ‘bout no slavery no mo’.” Ain’t that some shit? How could you offend our ancestors like this? Huh!? Answer me, woman! I told you I was either gonna send for you once I got settled into my freedom or come back for you. I told you! I’ve come back and now you’re turning me away? Please tell me we didn’t work for nothing all those back breaking years for nothing. Tell me!
Patrice: (she moves toward him and he recoils) Ronnie, don’t –
Ronnie: I hate to say this, my Sister, but with all due respect, you are lost! (Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus lights up and plays a shorter piano intro. The lights also stay on Patrice. Ronnie, distraught, storms out of the club)
Patrice: (falling to her knees) Lost! Me!? Nooooo! Could it be true? Ronnnnie, come back. Don’t leave me again. Oh Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, what did I ever do in my whole wretched life to deserve the distraction of such drama? Am I just in cable bill of dreaming big? Shit! I gotta pay my cable bill before they shut the damn thing off. Who gon’ pay my cable bill, Ronnie?! Not your broke overseeing ass! (she yells in the direction he left) Being free means I gotta do that myself. Aye me…What do you make of it all, Tom?
Tom: (smiles and sings) Well now, as you know, Miss Patrice, whenever there’s a history between Him and Her, There’s bound to be some (cough) As It Were…
Patrice: (standing up and looking longingly in the direction Ronnie exited, a soft, sad, golden spotlight illuminating her face) If you only knew how much I loves you Rondell Roberts. I loves you and freedom more than anything else in this disgusting world. I swear! If you only knew… (She walks and sits lasciviously atop Tom “Say Uncle” Anonimus’ piano)
Tom and Patrice:
(sing)
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
When your cold heart starts to stir
You know you been affected by some of that ole As It Were…
This was the story of a captivated lover turned Overseer
Still in love with his former gal friend who like him, was for a time enslaved.
A formerly enslaved man will always love the woman he endured slavery with
‘Til he marches, in chains or chainless, to the grave.
So whenever you feel tempted to get some As It Were
And you fear you’ll never be free from him or her
Remember that it’s wiser to keep on rolling on…like a drifting river or a lingering song.
If you’re the sort of dreamer who believes you can live happily ever after –
(Before you reach the hereafter)
In some ways you may be dreaming right
But in most ways, dahling, you’re dreaming wroooooong.
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
A poppa loppa droppa show stoppa
END
Goatwaterstrip
written and illustrated by
Tiffany Osedra Miller
Copyright 2012-2013
all rights reserved.
written and illustrated by
Tiffany Osedra Miller
Copyright 2012-2013
all rights reserved.
7/23/13
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