 And this art allows them on that point to discuss, and as Donna said, being in dialogue with each other about who we are, what our case should be, and the importance of education in our community. What's going to happen next is we're going to have a reading of excerpts of the play, but before that, everybody in our studio audience here has received this handout, which are basically questions for talk back. And these are things that I hope you'll be looking at as you're listening to the play. Based on the excerpts you just read, you share short phrases that describe your initial responses to the play. Based on the excerpts you have heard, what would you say this play is about? Based on the excerpts you've just heard, what events in the play stand out the most to confuse you? And based on the excerpts you've heard, the director, Professor Fanny Green, would like us to talk about the themes of identity and history that are present in the play, such as self-identity, cultural identity, oral history, recorded history. And there are other themes in the play that are relevant to society today. And then we'll finish up with any further questions you might have for the playwright, the director, or the cast. So that is really, as far as the roundtable for me, the most exciting part about this whole thing, so I hope you'll be coming up with some wonderful questions for us. It will make my job as a moderator much easier. So at this time, what I want to do is switch who's sitting where, and have Fanny introduce the performers for this week. Part of a class that we're going to hear this semester called Stave Readings. And it's a part, in the class we are exploring two new plays with living playwrights. Marcus is the first play, Marcus is the first play, this play is the first play we're exploring. And then a little later in the semester, we're going to work with the local playwright, her name is Sheila Cowley. And we're going to work on her play as well called Ludd Ann. And we're looking at different ways of doing stage readings, reading at the table, reading on a beat, staging very simply and elementary, looking at different ways of holding scripts in hand and then letting what we are reading on the page be how we begin our very first exploration of a script. So today we have students from that class and an alumni with us. So we have Johnny Gardner, Samantha Epps, Manny Franco, Nika Harris, Jameson Hudson, and we have Jessica Jones. And we're ready to begin. And Marcus is going to be reading with us, we're excited about that. The road weeps, the well runs dry, a play by Marcus Gardner. There, Indian territory, present day we woke up Oklahoma. Then, winter 1850 and 1866, the action takes place over 2.4 hour days. This, the stage is seasoned in golden desert, in the rear stands the shadow of a mountain and a wood with trees the shape of warren gods. At their feet flows a silver creek to the right a chapel, a well stands in the center and to the left a trade store with a sign that reads, Half George's trade or lie. Then, number two, a black dog. Young number two, his number eight. Mary Sel, his wife, a full blood seminal. Sweet tea, a daughter, black and seven. Troperage, the sheriff and a full blood seminal. Half George, Troperage's wife, black and seminal, the witch. Good bird, his son, also playing wonderful. Horse power, town elder and medicine man, black and seminal. And Jean, his granddaughter, the first lady of the church, also playing wind song, the music of nature. Fat Rand, her husband. Colorado, an orphan, the town of Casanova. Prologue, number two, wrestles his angel or black bear embraces red coyote. Night, the white eye of heaven falls on two men in a standoff. Their eyes locked to kill or fuck. One is number two, age 43, black, built like a mountain. The other is Troperage, 45, seminal, built like a tree. He wears a sheriff's badge. The year is 1850. One of us is about to die, bigger than much. My son figures you on the county and killed my boy. Meant to bruise him, don't matter. Meant to nick him, but he kept at me. Made me mad and I got happy with him. He cut him round like a cake, a slice in every direction. I got into my sweet tea. I saw him bolt in the creek in the past. He had a rope. He had my darling when she was a whole. What no matter. You need to come to me if you had a problem with mine. You need to come to me if you had a problem at all. That's the law in this town, number two. I say what gets killed, just because you share it. Don't need a master. Them days is dead. I'm a free man now and I ain't got to get your permission to kill somebody. Even if that's something to your son. Come close in so I can kill you. My woman wants your head to make a suit. Told me not to come back till I had it. And you are the woman's wife? Yeah, and she be my man. Figured she already got my balls. God just needs your head. How you doing it then, troper? Bring you a rope? No, I ain't got time to watch you hang around. Gotta kill your natural. Bare-handed as crack your neck. Acts off your head and leave the body for the birds. Well, it's a way to go. No offence though if I protect myself until you first. Do what you must. Though if you do any promise you'll go and kill and hit my wife. Don't let a woman live without something to live for. That ain't my worried soul. Then he was good till the hell of the devil got him. Now I've been sent to put out the fight. And God give him his strength to do it. You're sure they need him. The men collide like bulls. Their hands, horns, they catch one another's necks, then freeze. Their body is formed the mouth of a cave. Into horse power, 72, holding a lantern and his staff. He enters the cave followed by wonderful, 816, red as honey. With beautifully white and knack of hair flashed forward. The year is 1866. Of course, God. We rest here. This cave be the mouth of a mountain. We sit here on its lip and wait for heaven's freckles to burn through the blanket of night. It's them starry freckles that will tell your story wonderful. Up there? How my history get way up there in the sky, of course. At night every man can see his story written on God's black face. During the day, God hides it behind his hot smile and cloudy beard. But at night while he keeps his white eye open, his freckles glow sparkling gold. So that if a man seeking God's face reaches his hand through the sky, he'll cause with that spark that a man can chart his story. He can trace his past, find his calling, and if he's wise, he can foretell his fate. Whoa, that's a lot. I don't know if I want to know all that. I'd rather hear a bedtime tale or a little joke. Joke? You think this supposed to be fun? No, I... You think I ain't got nothing better to do than to sneak out of the house knowing how vengeful and bitch-dog your grandma can be? I'm reading the stars for your benefit, boy. You 15! Actually, I'm 16. Same thing, you just carry the one point B. You have to fork in the road of life. You could go left, but you might get left. You could go right, but it might not be right. Only the stars can chart your course. You need your history, and you need it now. But what if I don't like it? What if my story's bad? Piss and shit. I know such thing as a bad district I came from, so you don't go down the same roads they got lost on. You need to know where... I suppose you're ready. Course I'm ready. Now, give me your hand so I can wake up your star. I ain't got all night. Force power lifts this king and wraps wonderful's hand around him. He guides the king to his star. The star burns into a comet. Then other constellations cruise across the sky as we fall back into time. Oslan is a yellow bird. We came here. Twenty years from Florida Swamps when fighting for freedom had taken its toll and we had grown old from being some Indian chief's slave. Though it took us 45 days, we traveled the road called West where rocks chewed through our dead skinned shoes, through our meat and bone breaking our walk in the limps, our dead stares into trail of tears. Like the Choctaw, Chickasaw, Cherokee and Creek, fierce engines blonde sting. We came here. 300 free black Seminoles up from 300 years on our knees, drowning in the heat and burn of the dust stretch and sun walking upon our dead, soft mud under our feet. We promised to hold up our heads and not show grief of one another. A creek, I found my land. When we got to Indian territory, Trollbridge was the first to find one. He was on the cheap Long John, but he came west with us Negroes to make sure the neighboring Creek Indians didn't try to enslave us. Back then, the government had signed a treaty declaring every law so Trollbridge hanged to enforce it. Unlike his father and the chiefs before him, Trollbridge denounced slavery. He helped us escape and we all loved him. What you mean, go land. You land on the wind blowing Indian territory, Trollbridge. Here is a land grave. First man to stick his pike in unclain earth bones. Sounds? Sounds like you got a race for it then, number two, though I feel bad riding against you, knowing I got a horse built like a train and all you got is that sucky mule marvellous jack. Don't matter. I didn't come all this way to let an Indian take the only good land left. Horses of all, count off. If Trollbridge wants this creek land, he's going to have to ride me for it. Count off. And so I did. I had to leave because his horse was going to be served to suck a leaf from where they stood. Said he got there first. But soon as he hopped off his mule, Trollbridge, then stuck his pike in the land. But Trollbridge said that was a lie. He said, number two, roll his mule so hard it collapsed on top of him and he just a poor loser. And number two was wounded. What was right? I declared Trollbridge laying on him. Number two falls to feet. Trollbridge sticks his pike in the land and does a victory defense. And this land had killed. Number two, he spent most of his life buying his freedom and this was his one chance. He had your own something worth slaving for. He spat blood from the binoculars in his mouth, took his wife, Mary South, and moved across the creek into the woods till the day he got a taste of sweet revenge. And this, my boy, is how your story begins. The scene fades as wind song howls. We return to 1850s. Act one, the Old Testament or why the well ran dry. Enter Sweet T, age 16, a vision in her patchwork skirt. She walks through the woods at a fast pace as if being followed. Suddenly her father jumps out from behind a tree. Daddy's me. Aw, Pa, you scared me. So, you're lucky it's me and not the slave catchin' creeps. I thought I told you to be in the house from Sunday. You're dead, but my need to get a pickup out of him now. At the trade post. I'll be just a breath. Breath a knock, I don't like to lie for a little bit now. Yeah, but you want to go peach pie, don't you Pa? Can't make peach pie without powdered milk, now can I? But you are. Hurry back to me, and don't stop for nothing, hear me? She walks off. Loud and clear. He exits. We hear and see a silver creek in the wood. Got an acronym. Kimonaro, Kimonaro, Kimonaro. Copintaro. Goodberg, age 16, angelic takes off his shoes and cuts into the creek. Seminachi, seminachi, seminachi, verminachi, verminachi. Sweet tea. Oh, God, there she is. Have it in the flesh. And the reason my flesh is so weak. You're late now. She steps in the water. Apologies. It was hard for me to get away. My problem, I'll be literally like, I'm sticky. Asking me all questions and staring at me for no reason except as a guest to try and look into my soul. She's saying he's nervous that some creek Indians gonna snatch me up, but I know better. I'm afraid he know about his burden. It's breaking his heart. Aw, he's a big man, sweetie. If he gets broke and he'll heal, we can't be worried about our folks no more. We too young for it. So since them that got the bad blood, our duty is to love and make love and make love last. Yeah, I suppose. Just sometimes I wish we'd up and leave here, pack our bags, hitch a wagon, walk into the ocean to live as fish. We spend our days neck to neck looking into each other's big ol' eyes and swimming. And we have a whole school of children too. A whole school? Who's gonna feed a whole school? The ocean! And we forget about this dusty town and the heat and the fog and creek Indians trying to slave us our bad blood between our paws. We'd be happy. We'd be fishing. You something strange, gal. I don't wanna be no fish. Hell, I just gotta hang up being a man. And I likes it. I likes being your man. And you know what else I like? He grabs you by the waist. Boy, you a mess. Yup, and I likes getting in your ass. He picks from you. Dang, you got heavy. What you been eating? Anything I can give you. It's got me big, Bert. I got to tell you. It don't matter. I like you around. Just follow me for me to lay my lips on. He bathes and stirs the kisses. He takes them out. Baby. Mmm. Nature. Mmm. A stir. Mmm. A finger works to the sound. Oh, you hear something? No, I don't hear a thing. Not a thing at all. There was a stir. Somebody's here. You best go. You best go home now. I thought we was getting fishy. Not tonight. And my good. Let's meet tomorrow. There's something I've been wanting to tell you. Something I got to lay on your ha. Sweet tea rises from the creek. You just got here. Yeah. And if I'm in here, I'll never leave you. She kisses him and exits. Well, heads. What a way to kill a rooster. The good bird rises from the water and leans against a tree to dry off. Time. A figure snatches him from behind the tree and drags him into the woods. We hear the swift stab of the fork in the flesh and the flap of wings. A stream of blood slithers into the creek. All goes dark. M. G. Nintra's drawing the curtain of a glory's dawn over the night's scoff. She wears a flounder skirt and a cape made from flower socks. I need thee. It's got us speaking in tongues again. She went to fetch water and found blood in her sin to peel down and then come up with dance song. I reckon the whales want to dry. Run dry? The house supposed to keep the waves in my hair with no water. It's my wavy hair that gets the woman wet. It's got something to do with this. Slow your ride young buck. Where else I'm supposed to jump? You know them creeks been trying to get at us since we moved here. We did not number them three to one. They have enslaved us all. Calm yourself. This is an act of nature. We just have to fetch water from the creek. Lord knows number two hates it but folks go near his land. The Lord has spoken. He told me he jumped our well as a warning. From our wicked ways there's water that never runs dry. Who would have had a living? You said God jumped our well? Every last drop and he said he won't fill it up till ever a man in town confesses that he is Lord. God said all that in Jean. Sad to be like he was the one doing all the talking. Don't start on me this morning Colorado. Mom man. Here comes that full blood Marisa. I sure don't feel like hearing her howl duty this morning. Into Marisa in a blouse and skirt that was once a Confederate flag followed by sweet tea. Howl show is a healthy place for me in the well. We could do Lady T's here I reckon and the men's could go forward or sometimes we'll just smell the devil's bells and that would be something to get out. But we women's mean and mean sweet tea. Awful. That is something you can suck on like pain. Bad gossip makes you rustic and God don't like stink. We have. Thirst. The word and run dry. What you mean run dry? It was more than half full yesterday. You know God drunk it out of the morning. No he didn't. The creek's put a spell on it. That is so. It's just nature. Maybe it was the sun. Time. Everybody stares for it. Sweet tea. Stay out with the phone folks. Business now. But it's true mom. It's been hot in the business since last Sunday store. The old man had a heat stroke. It got hot that day and it's been hot ever since. I think we havin' a drought. Drought. Now this is evening. It's winter. How are we gonna have a drought in winter? Cuz it's God. Time. Enter a horse of power. Cheer up. And then the croak. We rely on you to explain the nature of the supernatural. I'm not supposed to figure it out but perhaps you can reason the why and how to so that we may drink from this well again. After all you are our wise elder. He bakes himself in a compliment then examines the well. Time. It's a well. Well's keep warm. They keep folks wishes I figure. Something through a wish down the well and it drunk up all the water. That mean they had a big wish. Now if I keep a dance the breast maker will laugh lean his head back and whip his into it. But I got to get paid first. I don't dance for free. What's your price? 66. 66 be my age be the price for the dance. Pay it now and you won't regret it later. Let's see two some three some four five six some five more is what is due. Excuse me Christians but remember we do not pay for dances. It's old Indian law like rain dancing I ain't a guy and don't make sense. It makes 66 sense. Be my age. Be my price. Price for my dance. Come on M.G. Out of time. Hey old man. We ain't even paying you know my grandpa. God brought us all the way from Florida and we like the children of Israel cause we will never pay to you. Here's five buttons for two step one. I told you dance. If he can solve the matter with the well then we should let him dance. Why thank you man. I really did like you better. Now y'all stand back. This old horse is going to pick up a dust storm. See if he can get the sky and cry. He circles the well to toss some oil over his head. Ironically his dance is intended M.G. It's a stop dance. Sweet breath maker. Cratch his belly till he cries us a river. Post just given us a rain dance to fill it. What about this business? Snaps on my head to sleep. Boy you find out for a Friday. Get going. If you get any pretty arm and make you wear a dress. The horse will rely on you to wake them rumps up. So move yours. And M.G. when you plan on opening the school. School don't start to high noon sheriff when the children come back from farm work. Don't matter. It's high enough for life which means you need to teach. Our children ain't getting any smarter on a category. Yes sir. Marry if you will. Damn shame. I got to remind folks to take a job every morning. Last thing I want to be is somebody's master in looking. I done turned into my father. The horse is still listening to the weather. What boy? I'm busy. You're meeting the trade folks. Goodberg didn't go home last night. My wife got a shipment coming from Kansas. She needs to help her unbox. So what I'm supposed to do about this well? There's nothing you can't do but wait for rain. In the meantime we'll use the creek. We won't go at night and we won't go alone. We'll be like a wing to do our own sort of dancing. So spread the word. The wells run dry and the creek is now a new nursery. Trowbridge answers. Sweetie passes horse power who stops him. Hold. We should be ashamed. Pardon? Your bird wish drunk up the well. Now you got to cry. To save our town. You got to break the law and weep. But why? I don't understand. Ask the well. I'm just an echo. Ask the stones. He answers. Sweetie looks in the well. Um... Hello? I'm... Hello? Well? Well? Why? Why won't you cry? You're thirsty? I'm thirsty. She looks around. Try and weep for you well. I will reach for you, gal. Sweetie lifts her head. Let's see. I haven't cried since I was five or so. I suppose I should think of a sad thought. I can make it in my mind. Send it to my eyes and they'll... well... spring forth a tear. Yes, I'll weep. Do you mind some sadness? Here. A drop. She shuts a tear. She shuts a tear. Imgene and Mary sit on the chapel steps. The Lord spoke to me this morning while I was praying, sister. He said he sat up with a heathen way. He's always moved to drink all water. Next she said, Legs? I'm three weeks to recover from a dust storm. What kind of place? Is it frogs? I can cry for all the legs if it's frogs. He showed me the image of a man crawling on the valley of a wave. Good bird crawls out of the well, wept and cut up. Sweetie screams. He was first born and he was dying. Good bird, bird, is that you? Sweet. And he did cry over and over again. Good bird, what happened? How'd you get in there? Whoa. I loved you so, so, bird. Wait. Where are you going? His eyes closed. Hey, good bird. Hey, good. Don't leave me alone. Please. Don't go with me. Hey, wet, curled up in someone's breasts. As I came to, I'm nice-y. His death would bring me laugh. The Lord was telling me to pick up the raw assistant. He said I sat out of wait too long while Lena's like my grid upon the sheriff kept our minds in bondage until they turned from their way. They'll be playing, sister. They will be flood. Well, I'm on your side first, lady, but what can we do? This trove is just laying in most powers our elder. They're just doing what they think is best. They serve two masters, Mary South. You're got to pick a side. God has anointed me to be Moses to lead his people. Now, all I need is a headmate. What about your husband, Red? He's a blood and a yellow belly. I don't need a woman to stand side me. Paul has Silas, Moses had Aaron, and although I would have liked to choose a full-board senator, God has chosen me to be your sister. Won't you answer the call? Mama, happy sister. Be blessed. And you, be blessed, prophetess. How'd I lose you when everything was good? When everything was right? Sweet, what's the matter? Good bird. I can't feel my heart. He's cold. I best get his father to the stake. He's dead. Best of all, how? Best, we make sure we have no partners still. Be a good girl and help me drag the body to the bush. Like a dog? Your beloved what? My man. I can keep it. He's gonna keep it this long, you came. Let's move him before he gets stank. And careful of the side, there's something sticking there. Below his wing. Sweet teeth pulls the tooth. What is it? Tooth of a pitchfork looks like. Come, we'll take him to the chapel, but we won't pry for this hour away. We women labor out the bodies of the world. I'll need a half to bring him in. Mary Poppins the tooth. They pick up Goodwood's body and eggs it. Near the creek, number two, combs his corn stalks with a pitchfork. He takes a drink. Young Troll Bridge enters with a spear. Wearing nothing but a long paw. It is 1823. Indian town of Lawland. Excuse me? What do you mean? I can see your ass. I said, I'm hunting the black bear. Where? Ain't no bear gonna come through here. He's just beyond those trees. In the bush, even beauty bear is. There's a stirrer in the bush. Oh, is that how you got naked? That bear ain't too close. No, and I ain't naked. This is warrior's armor. It's called a sackcloth. Well, if that's a sack, it ain't holding much. If that's cloth, you didn't get your money's worth. Ain't you cold as a well digger's butt? I'm the son of a seminal chief. I don't get cold. Now shh, I must face the bear and run my spear through his heart. He creeps closer. Well, ain't this head-stretching? I ain't never seen a half-making man speak up to a bear. Feel like a chicken with no feathers walking up to a wolf. Where I come from, we call that free food. Shhh. There must be silence when I kill him. It's my right of passage. To leave the tall walk, I request of the echo. I must bring the black bear home This is the beginning of my story. Looks like it's going to be a short story. You can't kill no bear with that twink you call a spear. You need to set a trap. I'll help you for a horse and somewhere to name my head for the night. No, don't need it. Sads, I can tell you a runaway by them shackles on your feet. It's against the law to give a runaway slay of a horse in these swamps. Fine, but you waste my talents. I know how to squeeze a bear and not to sing in his ears so he sleeps. Even where to lay him down. The castle was a creek Indian and he taught me the secret song. Don't matter. Only Indians can wrestle with the wild with a secret chance. Niggers ain't got the blood for it. My Pa says you're good for making nature grow because you've got strong hands, but it means you belong in the field. And what he know? Yapa ain't God. I know God. He say I can wrestle any nature comes my way. He gives me a gift for it. He found blackness and that means something. Yeah, I mean he dirty. You need to clean his feet. Young number two wrestlers. Time. The shadow of the bear appears. The robber. You crazy? Stay still. You can't run from that bear. We gotta look into his eyes. If we stare him down he'll let us see into his soul. Then what? Then I say they turn towards the bear's shadow. The bear brows again. And shadow the bear bow. Told ya. Niggers can wrestle the wild just like Indians. What? You something else? Maybe I found the black bear after all. What you mean? Why are you looking at me like that? Cause. He points his spear at young number two. You gon' be mine. My man. Number two walks from his man. As lights fade revealing Mary South. Woman. I'm working. It's Berger. There's been a happening. Good bird from Ridge's boy. We found him dead in the well. Don't know if we got there, but we moved him to the chapel. And I heard him in the well. How do you find a man in the well at you? You found Aspo's? You know it ain't in the well at me now. He would have drowned if it was. Something lifted him. A waltz. There was water in that well yesterday. Somebody's in the bed. Has been one of his mother thinks we had some pot. Maybe it must have been cause of the cuts. Plus I found a prod. Some tools, tooth, pierces and a scythe. From there, obviously he was stabbed. Stabbed. His body said something would happen with hate. Bold and blind. My guess, he was cut up and lost in the well. He lost in the darkness, but the killer wasn't so bright. Most arms don't drown. Most can swim. That's so. Everybody knows birds. She sees the missing tooth on his pitchfork. Love. Help me, Jesus. What is it? What you see, Mary? Nothing. I don't see nothing. I swear. You're not looking good enough. Look closer. What you see? I see it, God. I see there's something between us I didn't know. And don't want to know. That bird was making nature with our dog. Did you know that? Only recent, only this morning. You weren't going to tell me. Was? Soon as you would have. You didn't remember, too. You killed the sheriff's only child. What I got away with, except for you taking the body from the tomb. Merciful savior. Why? That bird was making nature with our dog. The seed of my enemy plotting his own in the soil of my girl. Couldn't sleep with the daughter from flying off with her in my dreams. Couldn't get no work done. But it's quiet now. Just listen. It's never so quiet. His mother will wipe down on us. That happens in time. Can you be that foolish? Don't you know her father? That witch may have tricks in her bag that she knows about me. She can't even breathe on me because of children. I'm God. Maybe in your eyes, but I believe that if you were a God, certain things would be magnificent. I don't like your wife, not your mouth, not your wife. I raise a hand on my child. If she puts in a strand of hair, I will match my daughter's pain with yours. Two goals. If she manages to capture her, I will cut your neck while you sleep. Quiet. It will be ever so quiet. Mary starts to exit, but you stop first. Hold. Let me be. Hold. If I hold you light, if I touch you, be still. I feel your presence. Know yourself. You lay your body on me and perhaps it'll linger when I'm cold. I'm your God. You are to serve me. What is this? What has this hate done to you? Where's my name? Put in a sleep. What you don't know about me is that I was a toy. I shared my mother's room with the brother who wrapped his coat around my neck. He fought me and my mother's bellies in space. When he came out number one, vehicle left. And I came out number two, a little as deep walking with a white mark across my chest. I suppose this caused everyone a treatment, I'm such a, always got the seconds. Always walked behind. It's always forgotten. For 16 years, when the mark took the shape of a fist. And something grew inside me I could no longer keep down. That's when I was forced to take action, take the lead, and push my brother from the top of the tree. But he was no rock, my brother. He burst into pieces in the first crash. I figured that's what killed my mom. I wrote my father crazy and forced me to run away. It's mocked. You and I both knew it grows still in me. It charges me, it urges me to be number one. Post promise says it's the mark of the white sun. It shaped me into my life with no end. And I could only be killed by my own blood. No blade, no gun, no curse can take me down. I tested it. Last Sunday, when horse red my story, climbed the mountain, leapt into the sky, swallowed the sun, and did not die. It's true white. I'm immortal. You believe that, and I marry a fool. That makes me a fool's wife. That makes me laugh. And that makes me think life is funny. That makes me want to cry. I have to tell, I've talked about her child. You best tell Trebridge, you killed the sun. You best saw this, or you'll need to swallow more than the sun. You can't prove revenge. Mary exits. M. Jean, in fact, relevant walk to the well as people pass carrying the hails from the creek. Just one moment. Before we continue, can we just let each of us just take a sip of water? Take just a little bit of it. And you can have somebody bring me some water. It's stretch. It's physical enough. The reason I can't stop is because we need to bring us on up just a little bit more. So I need it there, especially to bring the volume up a little bit more. And I need it when, especially with those women who's voices are a little bit higher, to bring pitch down just a little bit when you get excited. Take care to make sure the ends of some words, OK? So our words won't get lost. All right, our break is over. OK, you ready? OK, let's go. M. Jean, I must preach against this population. Her broadcast is why we have a church. I can say all would need to be said in my Sunday sermon. Labs even make room for no need so that folks will show the listen. Now, right? When you stay put and listen, she stops. Paul and the sheriff and your grandpa evens. It's not the way to go about this. They're good men, even if they is going to hell. After the graduate's been worshiping the open spirit so long, he can't get used to Jesus. And the sheriff, they don't have to have to slave, so he don't know how to treat us like we're free. But they can leave. You, they shepherd come in the day of your sheep. If they go to hell and you let them, it means you, they walk. How do you live with yourself being a wolf? When I don't live with myself, I live with you. Now, you got to stop this. I mean it. You my wife, you got to mind me. She pushes past her. My foot is down in jeep. See, look at it. It's down. Down on the ground like so. Look at it. I see it. It's pretty, but it don't walk over me. I'm led by God. And if you try and stop me, I'm going to cut you. I'm going to cut you with the name of Jesus. That's blasphemy. I'm your husband, but I'm a preacher. You can talk to me in your way. You don't blaspheme them, Jean. M.G. gets on a soapbox and blows a ram's horn. It hardly makes a sound. The town folks and the town folk enter. Beloved, my, hey, the second was dropped. Where's my boy? Where's the good girl? Some God give me back my boy. Some nature give me back my bird. How'd he go? How'd he fly? He was your what? My man, your bird was mine. Time, of course. He tried to tell me he was in love. No wonder he kept it. There is hate between me and your pa. That's why he couldn't say a name. Don't hate me, sir. I love you. I know. I knew such love once. But worry not, his death will take a life. I'll hunt the killer out and cut off his head. Inside the trade store, Tav George, canned tobacco. She is a thick, handsome woman. With hair, why was George Washington's wig entered Mary's south with a fruit basket? Evening, Tav George. How are you? The trade store's so pretty that it was springtime in November. Is this New Calico? I'll take three yards of this in some red room when I move to you. Sweet tea is doing you a blast, though. Lord knows I can't afford it. May I also have some coil, jar of molasses, and powdered milk? You're looking healthy today, Tav George. I like that color on you. It brings out your womenly features. I was just passing through, clump pickin' and carry it on. Thought you might be needing some fruit for your preserves. Who said that preserves elects my fruit to fit my nature? Hard and rotten? Well, I believe that is all different. Some of us is soft and peachy. Others are hard-wrung, but we all got good centers. Sometimes you just got to peel away the rotten hearts to get to all the sweet for we all good and got good centers. You sound like you think you done made some golden discovery. I can look and tell folks got good centers. I figured that when I was five. You won dumb woman, Marisa. Oh, come on. Fine, I will. I wanted to tell you it before, but didn't care enough to make it plain. Guess I do now. Here it is. I think you dumbest bell ever rung in this dust wall town. I think you hop, thick, claim. And if I had my way, I'd silence your chime. I'd stick a nice size rock down your throat and stitch your two bits together to make a hammer. And if you choked, it would be an O well. Life is hard enough with a rooster's cockatoo to awaken me every morning. Sometimes sky thunder awakened me in the dead of night. But having to endure your empty talk, you coming in here acting like we're friends but needing something makes me want to beat you. Knock you down. Makes me want to stand on your head like a cliff to see a better view of the ocean. I've seen it in a movie. Let's say I come back and see how to bring food. Let's say you buy our trade now. You look like you need something. Yeah, well, the truth, I do need a thing. I don't bought our fruit and cake. You can leave that basket in my good boat, though. He's got a sweet tooth. Your good bird, you say? Yeah. What you got he can drink, smoke, or fuck with. You haven't heard? Heard what? Nobody ever talked to a witch. Your boy? Your boy's gone. Gone. It's about your sweet tea, ain't it? Well, chicks come home to roost. What can I say I hadn't thought before? My boy has a sweet tooth. Couldn't keep it from your farm. He's sprung, and so is his dicky. Did she run away with him? They'll be back. Good boat don't stay gone too long. He's picky and don't eat any woman's bread. Plus, I heard yours don't know how to knead. Where'd they run to? They did. Now, why wish they had it from you? Dead, half George. Not dead. Flies away for long periods of time. His father does the same when he gets mad. Men always running. Just cause they got fears of being forced off land makes them angry. I saw the body. I just did the chap on myself. I even got some of his blood from my dress. She shows a bloodstain. I didn't want to break your heart with him, but no man was made enough to do it. He's dead. My gut told me to keep him in. Told me to mind him. Take my time from his. Well, he would've given you his love. I'll give you his later. Why come? No reason. I just feel sorry for you. I want to see off on my hand. Hand for what? You ain't never offered it before. You ain't never needed it, but we the same. I've passed it all down, folks. The devil beans off the blood. It didn't mean a marriage to a Negro. They looked down on you because you were a Negro. We're into a full blood. We the same. Two sides of the same. Bullshit. I smell bullshit, Mary South. You beneath bullshit. It's a man, but I will complete it. It won't. Feed me truth. It was an accident. Not what you said to him out of fear. He was drunk, angry, but he didn't mean it. Don't hurt him, Hatchel. Old way, but I knew God teaches us forgiveness. He teaches us mercy, and I mean yours. Let me work for you is what I'm saying. I know you've been in the Hatchel since he gets to keep justice in the town, and now that your boy's gone. Oh, so you can breathe. Breathe. Corn harvest. Summer. Swallowed sun. Winter. Dead bird. Means the spring of new life. You're sweet tea's pregnant. Can't be sweet tea's pure. All men knew that, dumb. They were rolling since your gal grew hills. I want the child, night of the birth, and I won't harm yours. But Hatchel, there's no child, I swear. It burns by my hand, and it's hard for you dead to your kin. You came to seal it, let it be sealed. She burns a needle on your fire. Yes, sir. Mary's South offers her hand. Time has come for the old smoke, Mary South. Go tell your man. The time has come for a little sweat. She burns the pack on Mary's hand with a needle, Mary Gatzel. In the square, M. Jean takes his carrying, a sign that reads, who stoned God's home? The fact that it follows. M. Jean, it wasn't a stone. It was pebbled. And it was one pebble. And sugar, it grazed you. Whoever threw it that bad, ain't no minute to scare you. Let's go home now. Oh, heaven was all it took for David to kill the lie. How do you think it did me? It's not the lie, M. Jean. You're not even a Philistine. He, that cat, the first stone, let him be without sin. Somebody in this town don't think they a sinner. But wait till I find him out. And your horsepower is squeezing blood from the stone. He circles the well. Kill! You bleed till I figure you can't. Serve your right for telling folk tales. You've got them limited for the God. Even your Jesus would be ashamed. You cut your M. Jean. You cut off your Jean. Now, you get the M. Because you used to dance around the well. M. Jean falls to her knees. Stop. All right, Grandfather. Get you going. Otherwise, I'm going to have to get you this to weaponry. Ain't no man going to throw in stones at my wife. And kids, if it serves it or not, I'm the only man that's going to touch her. And that's the word. So get you going. Town spoke past carrying hounds of water. You don't hear that? You forget. And they load guns trolley into the trade post where half George cleans. There's garbage in full meal on the stove. You should eat. Possibly hear a Dom stop the bearer. Don't matter. I agree. Still, you should eat. Your heart may be heavy, but your gut still needs attention. I'll heat your plate. Don't bother. Go now for air. Gramps is gunned. You don't need your gun for air, I guess. I'd do if I can't breathe. And I won't be able until I kill something, a group of men fall from a coffin at the foot of the mountain come sunset. To avenge Goodbird's death, they're going to raid the Creek Indian camp and kill the chief with or without me. They'll have his head. For what? Can't you use yours? You know the Creek's didn't have nothing to do with this. They've been threatening us for 16 years, George. Creeping around our town at night watching us like hawks, I could feel their eyes on my back. Those one Creek guys. Just look. Look at your son and see who left their mark on his body. Who got hands strong enough to choke a neck? Who carries a pitchmore? It's not him. I know that he would never do this. Ever since we moved here, he's been stewing. His hate for you haven't grown so hard. He won't even cross the Creek. Man sends his wife and his gal to fetch goods and packages. He can't even stand to look at you long enough to buy a box of tobacco. And you think he won't kill your boy? You don't know him like I. We go back some sense. Days and nights. Just us for years. We only chose to hate each other because our love was so strong it would have killed us. But he'd die for you. He'd never kill mine. For his gal, he would. If you saw your boy with his girl and felt that love was gonna wound her like it did him, he'd kill yours to save his. I know for a fact, his wife came and told me she even left his tooth. He shows him the tooth. I'll kill him. Can't. He's got the mark. Horsepower says he can only be killed by his own blood. We got to get at him another way. Don't matter. Gotta kill him tonight, why not burst him? Do not listen. You're the sheriff. You've got to be the law and arrest him. You got to call off that raid for sundown for those men who've killed the wrong one who've risked their get killed. But I wanna hug him. You do, and you're going to be dead. Don't matter. Don't matter? You're dead and it don't matter. What about me? I matter? I ain't strong as you, Georgia. It's the one thing that keeps me in your arms. You're an awesome strength. Perhaps you're my man and me. Just kisses. But I can't live without my vengeance, Quicks. I gotta touch him. He kisses a boy. Listen to me. You're going to stop that raid. You look me in the eyes and tell me you're going to stop that raid, Joe Rich. He grabs his axe and a sack. Been saw me so long since I touched him. So long. He kisses. Outside, the balls of softy and fruit are neck and porch. You've stopped that raid, Joe Rich. Don't leave a woman lonely in this world like most men do. Like most kin. Like even most gods. She unveils her child's body. She prays. Number two skips rocks in a creek. It sparks a new memory. Young number two is revealed under sunlight skipping rocks in the water. And her young trover. I can show you how to skip rocks, number two. I'm a master at it. Show me how deep off it's thick if you want to show me something. Oh, somebody's hot. You mad because I'm the one who likes your gold pots? No, but I care. Likes to be on my lonesome anyway. And with you gone, I'll finally be free in my own massive. That's what you want, ain't it? Then what I wanted all my life. Then why are you hot? Don't know, maybe because of the heat. Oh, thinking you'd be used to floor to swamp by now. Maybe it's because I'm so close to you. Maybe I think you're healing. He puts his arms around young trover's waist. They rescue. Don't touch me, it ain't normal. So am I, there's your aim. You want to skip a rock best leader to water. And use your hips more. Ain't you ever made love? I've made plenty of things. That mean no? I can teach you a swing or two, but you have to come west and help me build a town with old horses. Why would I do that? Like you said, I'm free. And yet still be. You just be free from me. Not as well. I know you got the hotspots. You bet you dreamin'. Stay asleep, young trover's kisses him. Looks like we both woke. Sun and moon move into the same house or so many clips. The creek turns black. Number two wakes and sees trovewitch. Moonlight falls. We return to the standoff. I've been sent to put out to fight. Then God give you the strength to do what you should and need it. Ah! They collide, choke each other. Time. Take this pref trovewitch. No, won't sleep. Take it, I say. Be with your son. Number two's hands meet. No. His last breath wins, son. He dies. Number two lays him in the creek, cuts off his hair and really pockets it. He walks into the wood and comes upon horse power. Your fated day is here, number two. The mark of the white sun that grows on your chest. The breathmaker's fire has risen. Stolen by rabbit, swallowed by a paw. It lives, holding in you now. Only you can keep us from being made slaves. Bring the heat, number two. You hear them cries in the night. Follow and put them creek Indians on their knees. You are the son. So die, son of five. We team eyes against the tree. He's got the upper hand. It's over. We're as good as dead. No. Popping necks like peas from a pot of good gods. Gift is here. She appears in the feathered neck piece. He just arrived, half George. Let that girl have it. Ain't no better time than the present to get a gift. Mom. Mom, who's that? Nobody teased. Mary's cell pants are the baby. Take them then. This must be God's will. Look at him. He got sober in his eyes. He killed every last one of them. Number two, he killed every last one of them. Well, they'll have to try that for us now. Come, sweet Jesus. And he shall be called wonderful. Number two walks out of the moon, dancing. Yubba, buh. He blows out the moon. And the back wall. So we can leave you on the cliff. And if you need to, take a short, short break. And we'll let Mark come up and we'll be getting out of discussion. Let's take the real short break before we start the discussions. We'll be back in a few minutes. Anybody on the other side of the camera? Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're enjoying that? Well, she gave that to George. Yeah. Number two walks out of the moon. Yeah. Looking out of the moon. And their chocos just came. Yeah, they came. They came from the moon. It's like birth in America. You see? It's all the things that we want to be weird with. The largest thing in this whole show. Lots of free time. I love that. I love it. Did you leave? I'll have to look at you, Gina. I'm going to do that. I'll cherish the program down here. So do what we have here. It'll be a whole lot easier. A round table and a whole lot easier. Do I have to start breaking the table? That would be great. Yeah, we have some notes. Okay. I can note this to collect. Here, I'll note that one. Let's see. How do you know, too? That's not too smart. Yeah. Do this. I just want to do a vision now. I was like, yep, that's nice. I'm not going to ask you now. Go. Go. Go. Yeah. Quickly. Man, you quickly. No. Oh, my God. You're loud. You're loud. Please. I'll stay here. I'll stay here. I said that was okay. I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Yeah. Are we still up here? Yeah. He's so loud. Do we keep a wheel here? Yes. Okay. So, I'm going to creep out in an hour. Yes. What time is it? We're going to change that. Okay. Okay. We can change that. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.