The 3 parts of the Heights By Gary Brice
Characters:
Ka’val 15
Ka’mil 19
Kelvin 20
Note… Throughout the play the actor uses a bandanna, gun and book to move from person to person
[Blackout. Multiple gunshots are heard followed by the painful cries of a grieving mother. An acapella version of Amazing Grace is heard as the lights very slowly come up. They are very dim. The actor enters from the audience slowly as if in a funeral procession. The bandanna is neatly folded in his front shirt pocket as if it were a handkerchief for a suit. He is in all black except for the bandanna which is white. He stands with his head down as the song fades just low enough to hear. A spot light comes up on him as the rest of the stage goes black]
(He opens the book)
Beat
(He struggles through the passage. He is very bad at reading)
Ka’val: The LORD is my shep-herd; I shall not want.
He mak-eth me to lie down in green pas-tures: he lead-eth me be-side the still wa-ters.
He res-tor-eth my soul: he lead-eth me in the paths of righ…righ-te-ous-ness for-his-name-sake.
Yeah, though I walk th…through the voll-ey of the sha-dow of DEATH, I-will-fear-no-e-vel: for thou arT with me; thy rod and thy staff they com-fort-me.
Thou pr…pre-par-est a table before me in the pre-sence of mine en-e-mies: thou an…an…an-oint-est my head with oil; my cup runn-eth o-ver.
Surely good-ness and mer-cy shall follow me all-the-days-of-my-life: and I will d…dwell in the house of the LORD for-ev-er. Amen.
(The song continues. The spot fades and the lights go back dim as he walks up stage. He takes the bandanna out his pocket and ties it around his head. He is Ka’mil. He turns around and walks center. As he walks the spot comes back up and the rest of the stage goes black. Although he does not have a phone he is talking on one)
Ka’mil: Ok Ka’mil…yea you be good ok…daddy love you.
(He smiles big)
Ka’mil: Ok put mommy back on the phone.
Beat
Ka’mil: Hey. You alright…yea well you know I didn’t fuck with that nigga Kevin like that no way so…No that’s not why I don’t want him to go…He too young he don’t even know what death is… yea well I no that’s his cousin but a 4 year old don’t… whatever…I said whatever cause it don’t matter what I fuckin say you still gone do whatever the fuck you wanna do anyway!…yea well fuck you too, you just make sure you drop him off on time.
Beat
Ka’mil: Bitch
(The spot goes out as the lights come up to dim as he turns and walks up stage. He takes the bandanna off and ties it on top of his head like a cleaning lady would. He is Kelvin. The spot comes up as he walks center. The rest of the stage goes dark. He waits eagerly with his hand in the air. He is waiting to be called on.)
Beat
Beat
Kelvin: Thank you! Im sorry but I have to disagree with all of you guys. This issue of gun violence is so much bigger than yall are making it out to be. You cant just blame the parents. You have to blame the community too. You have to look at the culture of poverty and what that does to people. This is what happens when people have been poor for generations. Look at the history of socioeconomic inequality in places like the Heights. You have to look at the bigger picture before you just blame the parents.
Beat
Kelvin: That’s all.
(The Music stops and the lights come up as he takes the bandanna off his head and puts it back in his shirt pocket. He is Ka’val. He sits in the chair)
Beat
(He stands and punches the air until he is in a FRENZIE)
Beat
(He collapses to the ground and cries uncontrollably)
Beat
(He regains his composure. He sits in the chair he uses his bandana to wipe his eyes. He tries to over compensate for his moment of vulnerability with hyper-masculinity)
Ka’val: Swear ta god on my brotha Ron, Mikey D, and my two cousin graves. Swear ta god On my muthafuckin grandmammas life…every last one of them niggas dead.
Beat
Ka’val: I aint no bitch. No Bitch in me. Do you muthafuckas know who my muthafuckin daddy is? My daddy had all of the muthafuckin Heights on lock.
Beat
Ka’val: Aint no muthafuckin way them faggot ass mark ass bitch ass dickin in the booty ass niggas would have got away with that shit if he was here so aint no muthafuckin way them niggas gone get away with that shit with him locked up.
Beat
(He pulls out a gun from under his shirt)
Beat
Ka’val: This muthafucka got hella hits on it. This was my brotha Rons. Only nigga harder than him ta come up outta these muthafuckin streets was my muthafuckin daddy.
Beat
Ka’val: I don’t even go see that nigga no mo. He said he don’t like us seein ‘im locked up and shit. I don’t give no fuck tho. If I don’t end up dead imma end up in that muthafucka wit his ass.
Beat
Ka’val: Muthafuckas already think imma punk and shit! Just cause I aint got no scars or no hits and I aint did no time don’t mean shit. Muthafuckas just know not ta fuck wit me. They know where I come from. They know imma thorough bread nigga. It’s nothing fo me to throw them thangs. It’s nothing for me ta come up in yo muthafuckin house and blow out yo muthafuckin brains!
Beat
Ka’val: I hate funerals…I done been to 4 funerals and it aint even summer yet. Niggas is getting crazy tho. They shot up a funeral a while ago. Niggas doin that shit now. Muthafukas can’t even get buried in peace. We was ready for that shit today at Ron’s Funeral. Ready for any one of them raggedy ass niggas to jump stupid at my brothers funeral. Jesus Christ wouldn’t have been able to stop my ass if any nigga would have tried anything.
Beat
Ka’val: I hate hearin my mama and grandmamma cry like that. My grandmamma the one made me read that damn bible verse. I kept it together tho. Didn’t none of them muthafuckas see me cry. I wouldnt let myself cry. Ron woulda wupped my muthafuckin ass if he would have seen me cryin like a lil bitch. I just sat there plottin how im gone kill every last one of them niggas for getting my brotha.
Beat
Ka’val: least Ron took out one of them niggas before they got his ass.
Beat
Ka’val: That Kevin nigga funeral today too.
Beat
All them niggas gone be there…
(He stares at the gun he takes the bandanna and ties it around his face so only his eyes are showing. He turns and walks up stage. He stops he takes off the bandanna, rolls it up and ties it around his forehead circa Master P)
(Lights up on Ka’mil the bandanna is now folded and tied around his head. The book is no longer a bible but a notebook. He walks down stage to the chair where he is busies himself with writing rap lyrics. The gun is tucked neatly in his belt)
Ka’mil:
You niggas wanna fuck wit me you know I’ll go ballistic
Make you another black on black crime statistic
Cut you and chop you up then drink you just like a mystic
Don’t try and tempt faith by me although you can not resist it
Annihilate your social life make you a fuckin misfit;
Listen little faggot my verses’ is so sadistic
--Im optimistic my life is feudalistic
Love none of these hoes so you know im chauvinistic,
Im not a rapper my verses are journalistic
My heart love god but my mind is gone atheistic
Im narcissistic and my verses futuristic
Need a big booty bitch thats tryna be voyeuristic….yeeeeaaaaaahhhhhh
(He laughs)
Beat
(He stands. The lights go bright like a concert. He jumps around the stage and performs the rap he just wrote, as if for a sold out arena)
Ka’mil: You niggas wanna fuck wit me you know I’ll go ballistic
Make you another black on black crime statistic
Cut you and chop you up then drink you just like a Mistic
Don’t try and tempt faith by me although you can not resist it
Annihilate your social life make you a fuckin misfit
Listen simple nigga my verses’ is so sadistic
Im optimistic my life is feudalistic
Love none of these hoes so you know im chauvinistic
Im not a rapper my verses are journalistic
My heart love god but my mind is gone atheistic
Im narcissistic and my verses futuristic
Need a big booty bitch that trying ta be voyeuristic.
Beat
Ka’mil: A big booty bitch thas tryna be voyeuristic??? That shit is stupid!
(Lights go back. He laughs at the line.)
Beat
(He sits and he pulls out a bag of crack. He is getting the rocks ready for distribution)
Beat
Ka’mil: Don’t fuckin look at me like that I don’t smoke this shit. And it aint crack its bill money.
(He laughs)
Beat
Ka’mil: I mean shit I sell weed too. Im just doin this shit until I get my record deal. Yeeeaaaahhhhh!
Beat
Ka’mil: My grandmamma be getting on my ass about this shit. Muthafuckas be like nigga you aint gotta sell drugs “just go get a real job”. Aint no fuckin jobs in the Heights. Fast food don’t fuckin pay. I got a fuckin shorty man. What the fuck do look like makin food for ignorant ass ingreatful ass muthafuckas huh? Makin 7 dollars an hour, when I got these dope fiends beatin down my door ta fuck wit this shit. Fuck Mcdonalds. I can make a whole fuckin McDonalds check in one day fuckin with this shit.
Beat
Ka’mil: Muthafucks don’t wanna help me make a way. Im makin my own way. I just need for the right muthafuckas to hear my shit and im on. Yea im makin my own way. Livin by my own rules. When life hands you lemons, fuck lemonade you fuckin start a company like Minuetmade. Then a nigga be foreal paid. Stunntin in a muthafuckin bad ass Escalade. Getting hella paid. Yeeeaaaahhhhh.
(He likes this spontaneous rhyme enough to hurry to his notebook and write it down)
Ka’mil: When life hands you lemons fuck lemonade
Start Minuet-maid
Be forreal paid
Ina Escalade…
When life hands you lemons fuck lemonade
Start Minuet-maid
Be forreal paid
Ina Escalade… Yeeeaaahhhhhh!
Beat
Beat
Ka’mil: Aint no fuckin body helpin me. Shit fuck that, they’ll help me make my way to jail, and I aint never goin back to that bitch. Or they’ll help me make my way to a funeral line and I’ll be damned if my shorty gone bury me any time soon.
Beat
Ka’mil: Ka’mil Rasheed Evans JUNIOR. That’s my lil shorty. I do all of this shit for him. He gone have it better than me.
Beat
Ka’mil: Belive that.
(He finishes bagging the crack and goes back to writing his rap. The lights go bright again. He performs his concert again)
Ka’mil: When life hands you lemons fuck lemonade
Start Minuet-maid
Be forreal paid
Ina Escalade
When life hands you lemons fuck lemonade
Start Minuet-maid
Be forreal paid
Ina Escalade…
You niggas wanna fuck wit me you know I’ll go ballistic
Make you another black on black crime statistic
Cut you and chop you up then drink you just like a Mistic
Don’t try and tempt faith by me although you can not resist it
Annihilate your social life make you a fuckin misfit
Listen simple nigga my verses’ is so sadistic
Im optimistic my life is feudalistic
Love none of these hoes so you know im chauvinistic
Im not a rapper my verses are journalistic
My heart love god but my mind is gone atheistic
Im narcissistic my verses futuristic
So pay attention nigga cause some of yall bout to miss this
When life hands you lemons fuck lemonade
Start Minuet-maid
Be forreal paid
Ina Escalade
When life hands you lemons fuck lemonade
Start Minuet-maid
Be forreal paid
Ina Escalade…
(As he performs the last hook he turns and walks up stage. The lights go back. He takes off the bandanna and ties it on top of his head. He is Kelvin. The note book is now a script, Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare the gun is a prop. He is rehearsing.)
Kelvin: Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,For Cassius is aweary of the world;Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;Cheque'd like a bondman; all his faults observed,Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,To cast into my teeth. O, I could weepMy spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger,
Beat
Kelvin: This makes no fucking sense. This is a fucking gun. Why would she tell us to use guns for our props and not change the fucking line?
Beat
There is my dagger,And here my naked breast; within, a heartDearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold:If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth;
(He holds out the gun)
Beat
Kelvin: why would I voluntarily ask this dude to shoot me. Niggas do not do that shit, real talk. I’m a fucking English major why the fuck do I have to take acting Shakespeare.
Beat
Kelvin: I don’t even like touching guns. It don’t matter if they fake. I see too many guns back in the Heights. It’s hard being from the Heights because so much shit be goin on there. But, there’s not much I can do about it 3 hours away. I’m better off at Western. When I get my degree ain’t none of them niggas gone be able to tell me shit.
Beat
Kelvin: I know I aint there but…We have discussions and shit in AAS club about the violence in the Heights because a lot of us are either from there or from around there. I get so pissed off in In those meetings. Muthafuckas just be sayin stupid shit. Ignorant shit. I just be like are you talking about our neighborhood or some fuckin third world country half way across the world. Yea everybody is going crazy and yea shit is getting grimy as fuck but damn. Those are still people out there. Like today we were talkin about the 4 year old that got shot at the funeral yesterday Everybody is all like blame the parents blame the parents.”People don’t know how to raise they kids any more” How about we blame the fuckin whole community. Education sucks, the housing sucks, aint no fuckin jobs most of us come from broken homes. Its just being a product of a bad environment. How the fuck are the parents gonna know any better when they came up in the same fucked up ass streets!
Beat
Kelvin: Im sorry. It just seem like every other fuckin day somebody is either gettin shot or killed. We can be doin so much more in those meetings than complaining and pointing the finger. I mean we could be a lot more productive. What the fuck are any of us doing to help.
Beat
Kelvin: We cowards, all of us. We got on the first thing smoking up out of the Heights and most of us won’t even look back. I’m goin back, I’m goin back to teach cause the Heights needs me.
Beat
Kelvin: How the fuck does a 4 year old get shot at a funeral. You are supposed to leave a funeral with closure. You mourn the death, celebrate the life, then try like hell to move on with your own. You don’t leave one funeral to plan another one.
Beat
(he holds the gun out)
There is my dagger,
And here my naked breast; within, a heartDearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold:If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth;
I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart:Strike, as thou didst at Caesar; for, I know,When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him betterThan ever thou lovedst Cassius.
(Lights up on Ka’val the bandanna is around his face so you only see his eyes. He is flagged for battle. He sits and he just stares.)
Beat
Beat
Beat
(He rips of the bandanna)
Beat
Ka’val: I didn’t even look. I just started shootin….
Beat
Beat
Ka’val: I-I…I hit a four year old…
Beat
(He starts to rock uncontrollably even cry)
Beat
Ka’val: I AINT NO BITCH.
Beat
Ka’val: DO YOU KNOW WHO MY MUTHAFUKIN DADDY IS…
(Lights Shift to Ka’mil he is frantically ripping the pages out of his notebook throwing them about the stage)
Ka’mil: YOU NIGGAS WANNA FUCK WIT ME
Beat
YOU KNOW ILL GO BALLISTIC
Beat
MAKE YOU ANOTHER BLACK ON BLACK CRIME STATISTIC
CUT YOU
CHOP YOU UP
DRINK YOU JUST LIKE A MISTIC
Beat
(He has ripped all of the pages out and has thrown them sporadically about the stage. He collapses and cries hysterically)
Beat
Ka’mil: They killed my shorty….
Beat
Ka’mil: At a funeral. At his cousins funeral.
Beat
Ka’mil: Ka’mil…Rasheed…Evans…jr…
Beat
Beat
Ka’mil: THEY KILLED MY SHORTY
(He gets out the gun)
Beat
(He puts the bandanna around his face and rushes upstage)
(Lights Shift to Kelvin the he pulls the bandanna out of his pocket and and puts it on like a scarf)
Kelvin: Shit I forgot how brutal the wind is up here in the Heights.
Beat
Kelvin: Aint shit changed. The Heights look exactly the same. It look like fuckin animals live here.
Beat
Kelvin: Look at me starting to sound like the idiots at the meetings.
Beat
Kelvin: I organized a march after that 4 year old got shot.
Beat
Kelvin: I hear his daddy went out and shot the lil dude that killed his son.
Beat
Kelvin: 3 lives gone. 2 dead 1 gone to prison for the rest of his life. Dude was only 19. I’m only 1 year older than him. Dude he shot was only 15. I guess when you lose a kid don’t shit else matter. I guess when you lose anybody, for a split second nothing matters. Damn.
(He starts to pick up the paper. Amazing Grace plays as The lights very slowly fade to dark)
(Blackout)
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
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