 The Jazz Equation, written by Malik Sisei. Characters Gavin, Kiana Frida, Janet. Setting, two locations. The dining room, Gavin's bedroom. This play. The dining room is lit up by lamps who will turn or accent candles. The walls are light brown and tan patterned about the room. Center stage is a large dining table with six chairs. Stage right is the door entrance and upstage center is a door leading to the kitchen. Adjacent to the kitchen door is a replica of Jacob Lawrence's apartment on the wall. Over upstage left is a couple steps leading upstairs. Downstage left is the vinyl collection Two Rows Deep. The vinyl player sits in front of the collection. A large chandelier has been dimly lit for some time. Gavin's bedroom is minimal and will always be set up somewhere near downstage right or moat if large enough. There will be a desk, twin full bed and a corkboard with several postings up. The fourth wall will play as a whiteboard for both spaces. Pro-M, darkness. We hear a loud drag from a woodwind instrument that leads into a heavily energized tune. The instrument is its own band. The solo instrument transforms into a full coal train song as the lights slowly come up on our souls. Silhouetted in the light is Frida Neptune and Gavin Neptune. Their figures are seen but facial expressions are missing. Frida writes on the fourth wall facing the audience. Gavin is writing profusely with a youthful clinging, Frida. What's the answer? Seven. And then? Writing a bit more. 21. There you go. Okay, good challenge. No challenge for me this time. Frida writes, when she finishes, she drops to chalk, wipes her hands and turns around towards Gavin. He struggles with the equation for a moment but then reaches a Eureka. He writes his work down profusely. 16. Three is right, but 16? Wrong, Gavin, come on. Hey, hey now, I taught you better than that. Sorry, mama. It's okay. She walks behind him and rubs his shoulders. She gives him a kiss on the forehead. Just listen for a moment. You hear how he's playing? He's cracking a code, developing a sense of his formula. Then he attacks the score. Listen to Coltrane, listen to him. They listen for a moment. All you need to do is listen to the equation. What's it telling you, honey? Gavin takes a moment. He listens to the music and hits another Eureka, writes aggressively. As this happens, Frida slowly vanishes. 12, it's 12, right? Mama? Mama? He stands and slowly looks about the room. A light reveals Gavin's front. He is alone. Blackout, scene one. Lights come up on the autumn household. Esperanza Spaulding's I Know That You Know plays on vinyl in the background. Janet Autumn is dancing about the space, organizing and cleaning for company. She is a forward woman wearing a bob, a little longer than average. She wears worn wire glasses with a tan cardigan. She can read the layers of life for each person she comes across. Janet. Mr. Neptune will be here any minute. She hums to the song and grabs a couple of notebooks and pencils to place on the table. The record starts to skip. Don't just say you're coming down. Come on now, Harry. Janet goes to the kitchen as Kiana enters in a dance. Kiana is a sharp, savvy teenager. She wears a warm colored rainbow of extension in her hair with a big white sweater. She carries her backpack, blasting a hip hop song in her headphones. Janet returns with molasses cookies and white grape juice. She sets the refreshments on the table. She takes a glare at Kiana. Took you long enough. I had to finish my meditation. I told you to finish that earlier. Remember, before your shower, help them earbuds, child. Isn't it too early for cookies? They're from Mr. Neptune. All the teachers filled out a survey of their favorite snacks. Kiana reaches for one, but her hand gets slapped. For Mr. Neptune, but for you. Reaches in her back pocket and takes out a zip lock of cell phone periods. Am I a child, mom? Yes, in fact, you're 16. This is the best age for the most nutrition. Keep a healthy mind. You said this all my life. And it's a fact. It's power food. Powerfully lame. Hey now. Kiana reluctantly takes out a piece of celery. She smizes as she takes a bite. Janet moves to Kiana and begins to rub her shoulders. Now, you remember what I asked of you, right? I will get the work done. You already know it. You need your hands. Now, you know I ain't talking about that. I'm talking about your mouth, running it all through the day, using it to distract. It sounds like I do it on purpose. Takes another bite of celery. Now we know you can solve anything easy, but for this, you need to just show you are able to listen and apply that all Mr. Neptune instructs, okay? So don't mess this up for us by being too bold, Kiana. This is a carefully observed study. To get you brownie points with a school board? You better act right, girl. Kiana lives down and continues to eat her vegetables. After a moment, Janet moves back to comfort Kiana's shoulders. Okay. How about this? You can pick out three records to listen to during class. You're joking, mama. Go ahead and just put them back when class is over. Excited. Kiana jumps up and runs to the vinyl. She's hands across the piano run. Well, maybe not my Curtis Mayfield or my Aretha. Just aim for something more instrumental, less words, baby. I know exactly which to pick. Kiana swish through the vinyl. She spots a couple and picks them out as she names them. Oh, floor of Purim. Joe Henderson. Kiana has a tough time choosing, but then. Oh! And? As she pulls the record out, letters fall to the floor. Quickly, Janet slides the record back into place. She pulls out a different option. Here, Freddie Hubbard. That's perfect. He puts the letters back into the sleeves. I listen to Skylark all the time. I ain't never listened to that record before. Well, look it up there on spotty. You can listen to it there. Spotty? Yeah, that cloud music your generation listens to. Spotify? You get what I mean, girl. Mama. What you want? Kiana stares at the collection. Janet looks at Kiana cold. Esperanza fills the space. I saw the letters on the records. Why are you so focused on that? Leave that be. Those letters ain't got nothing to do with calculus. Here, why don't you go upstairs, look through your room, and find an item that Mr. Neptuneified interested. Okay, nothing interesting up there. Well, turn nothing into something. Go on up there. Kiana exits. As she leaves, the record begins to skip. Oh, shit. He takes the record off and places it aside. She examines the stylus. Like you're speaking for yourself or something. Here I come. Janet goes to the door, enters Gavin Neptune. He is a younger man in his late 20s. He ponders on a lot, but mostly equations in his head. He carries grief with him that often gets in the way of his work, but yet he tries to persevere. He enters the space with much enthusiasm. Wow. Hello, Mrs. Miss Autumn, Janet Autumn. No marriages in my lifetime. Miss Autumn, nice to meet you. I wish I could have came a bit sooner, but there were some detours I was unfamiliar with getting here. Sometimes your paths are one big equation. Detours teach you a lot about the roads, offer you options just in case. You know, you never know if you need those back streets. Used to have a friend where we treat our love like formulas. Like what's the route to our love? What's the navigation? Are you asking me? Oh, oh, never mind that. Let me take your coat. Ain't it windy out there? He has it with that closet. A bit, yeah. Felt like the wind was telling me something. I could feel it brushing my car on the way here. Beautiful house. Thank you, Mr. Neptune. Oh, yeah. I'm sorry I didn't even introduce myself. I know who you are. She rubs Gavin's arms sentimentally. They make eye contact for a moment. Gavin grows confused by the communication, but discovers something. How'd you know? Know what? What do you mean? I thought I loved me some molasses cookies. I was wondering immediately. I just ate a few of them this morning and it was mad I didn't make more. No, white grapefruit juice too? Stop playing. Oh, black women know me best. Yes, we all do. Kiana! Mr. Neptune is waiting for you. Gavin begins to set up his materials, couple textbooks, laptop, journal of notes, and a special set of eraser markers. He looks up and stares at the whiteboard on the fourth wall. Gavin. Interesting. What is that, Mr. Neptune? This whiteboard, it feels real. He rubs the board with a particular care. He feels strength from it, as though a message from his past. He gets leery-eyed and then snaps back. Real familiar. He retreats to his laptop. Janet steps forward as though she wants to say something, but then backs away. What did I say, girl? Janet exits. Alone, Gavin looks up and around him. He takes a journey over to the vinyl. He examines the collection with enjoyment. He then walks over to stare at Jacob Lawrence's apartment painting. He gains admiration on his face, but then remembers a somber memory. Eventually, his eyes move to the whiteboard again. He takes a couple eraser markers and begins to write an equation. Suddenly, Janet returns. She's just finishing breakfast in her room. My mistake. She'll be down soon enough. No worries. I'm quite patient. I just need her to have a new look on the year. She is a very bright young lady and will, you know, she will go to the moon and beyond. I absolutely believe it. I can't agree more. Calculus is a quite high level for a grade, at least in comparison to her peers. It may actually be too easy for her. You should hear her teachers effortless outside the box. Extraordinary. No, academic extraordinaire. Extraordinaire? Wow, which my teacher's called me that. Truth be told, they didn't say that. I'm just hyping my baby up. Speaking of extraordinary, you're one of those prodigies, aren't you? I'm just a labored math as well. Now stop all of that. Us black folk need to walk into our gifts. You have a gift, sir. Don't deny it. You're right. You have a gift. Keanna enters unnoticed. Earbuds back in. She carries an instrument case in a Rubik's cube, almost solved. Well, be wary now. This is a strong-minded one. Master manipulator. She'll try to cry her way out if she has to. Don't fall for it. She here for math, not social. Keanna drops the instrument case near her chair. It spirals Janet and Gavin. This must be Keanna. Yes. This is Keanna. Keanna, introduce yourself. Keanna does a half-ass wave. Janet stares into her soul. Hi, I'm Keanna. She sits and continues to fiddle with the Rubik's cube. Janet pulls an earbud out of Keanna's ear. Nice to meet you, Keanna. Well, I guess it's about that time I get to the school. She grabs her coat and purse. Keanna stands to go place the vinyl on a record player. Peach. Lead, the school board is setting up the fall school drive and setting up the boxes all over the building. Better get there before they give me the bummy cardboard to decorate. Thank you for being here for the next 10 weeks, is it? I was told by the district that I was a temporary sub only till week two. Who told you that? I can trigger the email. Please. Gavin brings up the email to Janet. A moment of reading things over, she becomes agitated. Oh no, these trick ass. Janet looks up at Gavin trying to regain some composure. She begins to dial. As that happens, Joe Henderson plays as Keanna returns to her seat. She hums to the tune, visibly annoyed. You ready? Okay, Mr. Neptune is here for you, Keanna. Please give him your undivided attention. As for this mess, I will figure it out today. Class is now in session. Janet exits. Gavin and Keanna have a stare off. Keanna becomes increasingly disgusted, but it's all a disguise. She's just being difficult. Good morning. Morning. Where's the beginning of the year spirit? She stares down his soul. Okay, a Rubik's Cube. My mama said for me to bring out something interesting for Mr. Neptune, you to see, so. She slides a Rubik's Cube across the table to Gavin. That's my interesting thingy. You got a few moves left, though. Yeah, I've been trying to figure it out on my own. No manuals, no videos, just all brain power. I'm stuck on the last bit. Oh, that's quite a challenge here. Let me see. Gavin starts to slowly move the Rubik's Cube in place. Eventually, he picks up the speed and solves the rest. There we go. Oh, I'm... Well, thanks for solving it for me, Mr. Showoff. I'll be sure to stop my year-long process over by redoing everything again. Sorry. It's just muscle memory. You'll pick up everything you did like you've known for years. She stares him down again. He places the Cube down. Can we get on with it? We will, but first, I'd like to get to know you, Miss Keanna Autumn. Gavin begins to walk around the room, takes observation of things he sees about the space. So I hear you are effortless, outside of the box, extraordinary, no, academic extraordinaire. I've heard. That makes you part of a gifted group. Young, black and gifted. That's right. You know you are a prodigy, though. Isn't that the same as gifted? They can play as synonyms, but I think there's a difference. I mean, gifted is that you are above average, better than most. But a prodigy? That means you are exceptional in things that only so many people in the world can achieve. It means you can invent a world-changing piece of technology, recreate policy for United Nations, bring lights to Africa. I mean, anybody can do these things, but a prodigy may have a leg up on making those things live on longer than the average person. I don't wanna do any of those things. Just examples, what would you like to do? Music. Which explains the case under the table. Keanna places the instrument case on the table. That looks more interesting than a plastic cube. I'm so used to it being by my side, I forget it was there. I can see that. Seems like you and your mother are home to music. My mom had been having a collection since she was nine years old. Knows jazz and funk like the back of her hand. Study in the case. Saxophone? A soprano. Your mother taught you? My daddy. He was a composer, used to play every instrument, at least know how to play each of them. I haven't seen him in years though. Just disappeared and left me lonesome, like they all do. I barely knew my father either. Everybody knew him though, under his alias. I never knew why he was so common to strangers, not in comparison to his own. Maybe he will return someday? Yeah, he's the only parent left and I don't even know. Your mother passed? Beat. Brief enters the room and the music cuts out. As Keanu stands to flip the vinyl, does it himself. You know, Coltrane was a prodigy. He created a whole system just for himself. Coltrane's circle of fizz, based off of the, circle of tones, based off the circle of fizz, but different. He created a better form of looking at music, just to help him play better. Now that's bold, but it worked. Felt like reconstructing language. That man was a giant. He wasn't all that. Uh-oh. Be careful, your mama might slap you for miles away. I know plenty who mastered it better. I mean, Rassan, Roland Kirk, Kamasi, Washington. We listening to Joe Henderson. Yeah, but Joe Coltrane laid the groundwork. And before him, Charles Parker. And so on. Remember those who came before? I guess you're right. Play something for me. I'm not set up. Plus I left my sheet music at school. It's all math, just improvise. Shiana gives in. She takes out the saxophone and sets up the ligature. She's to play, but becomes nervous by Gavin Stair. After a few squeaky notes, she stops. Just not right now. How about we get into that math, huh? I don't get to ask you nothing. Well, I'm open ears. You got a girlfriend? Who wants to know? You're not going to tell me? Well, whoever's asked and should know that it's none of their business. I'm grown enough to know a little bit. Come on, why not? That's the thing. You don't need to know a teacher's personal life, period. You're in my house. Searching up the place at that. You are eating my mama's cookies. You were asking me up a serum about what I want to do when I grow up. Your questions seem pretty personal to me. There's a fine line. Black men want to get defensive as soon as you ask them a personal question. Excuse me? Come on, the question's harmless. And now we move it on. Let's just start with some questions. He goes to the board and begins to write something. What was your mother like? I have him because he's cold. He sits in one place. I mean, you talk about your daddy, but not. She passed. I'm sorry. What was her name? Frida. Frida Neptune. How'd she? Hey, can we just, not today. Keanu, open your textbook to. We all got to go someday. Why are we so afraid to talk about the end? I mean, you can't just focus. We're grateful. Gavin, count these emotions in the moment. Sorry, Keanu. Really, I am. I just can't talk. Open your textbook to unit 1.1, page 12. I never knew my mother. She opens her textbook. Blackout, scene two. It is the afternoon. Gavin and Keanu have wrapped up the session. Gavin is erasing on the board while Keanu is doing homework, listening to music on her earbuds. Janet stands next to Gavin as he erases. Then I tell them, how dare you think you can casually have private meetings without, including the entire school board first. They think I'm still just a committee member. No, sir. I am your community outreach. Thank you very much. If it wasn't for me, this school wouldn't be. This school wouldn't be but loose plastic in the river. Useless, but also a danger to the ecosystem. But I see now that they are still in a danger. Now, I done dealt with mistrust in my life plenty. I don't need my job to be giving me anxiety like this. They excluded you? I called them and asked about the substitution guidelines for independent study. Now, last week, we had a clear cut meeting about this with the administration. Students would like to choose their teacher. Most of the board thought that decision was difficult, but I objected to the finish. Said these students should find a teacher that they feel comfortable with, understand them deeply to gain a fruitful relationship. And I felt like that was the best way for the students to get the most out of their independent study. I talked to them, asking about why they only put you two weeks when Keanu wanted you as her teacher for the semester. Not no measly old, two weeks. Yeah, I'm going to look back at Keanu. Interesting. What makes you say that? No. Was she acting up? This girl? No, not at all. It's just that. Done. What? Nothing, child. Go on and get upstairs and practice that sex. We got to set up the podcast in a few. Great work today, Keanu. Keanu gives him a menacing stare and then exits. Gavin begins to pack up. You were saying? I don't know. She was real focused today, but her energy is telling me something different. Telling you what? Spit it out, sir? Janet, I don't know if Keanu wants me as her teacher. I know what you're saying now. She does this with all of her teachers at first. A little skepticism, challenging the work, then she'll eventually fall into trusting you. Just takes a bit of time. She's just getting to know you. That's her way. She deals with trust just like me. I know, but I feel she would get used to me at this point, right? Especially given the lack of black teachers alone. I'll ask you this. How can you understand the photos on the wall without knowing who lives in the house? It's the first week, Mr. Neptune. Take it easy. Keanu picked you for a reason. You have to breathe. I guess. Janet's point of views. They both take a few breaths together. The energy shifts. Did that help? It did. My mother used to meditate all the time. Just take your time with it. You can only do so much. At the end of the day, Keanu won't know all there is to know about capitalism from you. It's up to her to find what she'll need it for later in life. You got to treat teaching like you're a composer and your students are the instruments. Understand the importance of everything, the brass, the woodwinds, the strings, the percussion. But then you shape the song so you know who is leading what. What is the tone? How is it working cohesively with the band? A composer's work is not easy. You got to practice all the time to find the niche and even respect in some cases. See now, I'll tell you, Keanu, see that girl is a woodwind. You can't tell me otherwise. She is a leading instrument and would need a solo for every song on the list. Every solo? She really is a musician. Been playing since she was real young. We must be proud. All this music here, you'd be surprised if she didn't have any rhythmic bones inside her. It's a collection, 47 years strong. Some you can't even buy in stores anymore. Sure, they get copies online and at certain stores, but ain't nothing better than an original. Originals have a different type of longevity. My mother had a collection too for years, way before I was born. And when she passed, I came back home from school. I was making life out there in Austin, but I had to come home to preserve my mother's legacy. The collection taught me a lot about life. Versus his hand across the vinyl? She had a written list of all the records, alphabetically. She didn't trust anybody with that list, except me. When I walked into the house after it was scary, but I felt her legacy so strong, I had to walk inside. I found that list began counting every record so that I knew no one tanked it. She kept all of them there, huh? Yeah, well, except one. Love Supreme. Janet becomes nervous. We hear faint saxophone playing as though in another room. That's the only one. I don't know, I thought she would take that record to the grave. Who knows? Whoever else knew that collection. My theory, somebody named Pluto might know. Pluto, how long's it been? About two years now. Where can I listen? To what? Y'all preparing a podcast. You got episodes out? Oh, of course. Janet searches through her phone to find her podcast. After surfing through, she asks trouble getting there. I don't know. Technology working against me today. You need my help at all? Keana can get me in, I'm sure of it. Keana! Right, she's playing away. Well, let me write it down for you. She's finding people with no card and pencil. She writes down the name. The Empowerment, I call it, yeah. A podcast about our history. Every episode we talk on a moment in history, a record that was released at the time and an art piece that reflected the times. Why didn't you tell me sooner? Never came up. That sounds great. I'll listen tonight while I'm grading. What's the topic on tonight? The Great Migration. Black folk moving up to the North for a better life. Decades of discovering what it meant to be black beyond the institution of slavery. The record we gonna talk on is gospel train. Ever heard of Sister Rosetta Tharp? And then for the arts, I just realized we ain't picked one out yet. Janet's curious about the room and ponders on an idea. Suddenly, she turns around and stares at the painting. Jacob Lawrence, perfect. I ain't did an episode on him yet. Seriously writing things down. Never heard of him before. Well, tune in this week. I got plenty on him, several books. Oh, I'd love to tune in. Mm-hmm. As a matter of fact, I got a copy of The American Struggle upstairs. Let me go grab it for you so you can read it. It won't do no harm to lend it to you. Janet Ed. Gavin takes a moment to glance at the painting. He looks closely and notices something. That's not the only copy of something in this house. The music stops as he continues his journey and immediately engages with the vital. He creates a drum tune from the tapping of his finger to the music. He wonders of the many stories, conjuring and elevations that push off the melodies. With curiosity, he pulls a few out from their places, taking a look at the selection. He is amazed. As he goes further down the collection, he pulls another as letters fall from the collection. Uh-oh. Picks the letters up and begins to place them back. But suddenly, he spots a familiar name of the same biology, Frida Neptune. Gavin builds some anxiety and a sense of confusion. He paces, but then realizes where he is. Gavin puts most back, but keeps a few for himself. He places the letters in his backpack. Kiana enters with the cases for the equipment. Mr. Neptune? Your mother's lending me a book. She's looking for it still. I know. I have it here. She pulls out a Jacob Lawrence book. She slides it across the table. Happy learning. Is that the wrong book? I don't know. It feels like we've, I'm sorry for earlier. Why do you keep apologizing? Right. Gavin exits. Kiana stares at the door. Blackout. Scene three. We hear a melody in the darkness. Light comes up in two places. Janet's living room in Gavin's study. Kiana plays her sax as Janet reads from a script into a microphone. Gavin is grating as he occasionally looks at his backpack. These scenes are happening simultaneously. Janet. So we see at this point the ways in which our desires for freedom evolved. We started to declare a revolt from the confines of enslavement to the migrations that we saw as opportunity beyond America's institutions. Gavin takes a moment to pause on his work. He stares at his backpack. While we still are within the bounds of that institution, we must be thankful for the ancestors who sacrificed, became martyrs, and put their livelihoods at risk to prove there is a chance to become more than what was offered when the first boat hit the shore. Gavin piques with anxiety. After a moment, he resists. He powers his backpack and dissects it for the letters. He mouths Frida Neptune. He rips a letter open and begins to read. He recognizes handwriting all too familiar. Empowerment is tricky, but attainable in a love language. Am I right? If we look hard at history, we will know. At this point, empowerment exists everywhere in life. Our organizations, streets, schools, households, mental health, our babies, our art. Gavin begins to tear up. He catches his tears fall on the page. He rips open another letter for clarity. He reads. Maybe that's what Jacob Lawrence and Sister Rosetta thought were trying to say in their work. Just like those proud generations of freed black folk moving up the country to better themselves, we still are looking to move up. But this time, in the latter toward our secure freedoms, the betterment of who we are, not what we are. Gavin sits in bitterness. He rips open the last letter in his possession. Because who we are is human. Let's not forget that the color of our skin is beautiful and majestic. Whether you consider yourself magical or not, you are power. You have power, like a friend of mine once said. Gavin steers out into the audience as he also mouths. Our time has been here. We all just got to see it together. Until the next time, until the next step, y'all. We-e-m-p-o-w-e-r. Good night. See you. Kiana clicks the space bar to stop the recording. Gavin falls in his desk chair, blackout. Scene four. One week later, back lights come up on a one-syllabetic Kiana and Gavin. The energy is intense as Gavin pushes equations off the board to Kiana. She is exhausted but determined. And this one? 23. Good. Next. Uh, 13? Quick. Next one. Am I getting an interview that's right? Kiana, let's talk more work. What is this one? Uh, I don't know. Eight, I think. You think? Goodness. You sure say goodness a lot. Focus, Kiana. I'm tired. This isn't a competition, is it? Focus. I'm tired. He surrenders. Fine. Let's take a break. Kiana drops her pencil in agony. She slumps in her chair like a school child. Gavin paces in check for time but is overly self-aware. I'm sorry if that was a lot. You still apologizing too much. Isn't this worth apologizing for? Not if you're adding to the fire, you're claying your pen now. I thought you said she would be here in 30 minutes. Is that why you're rushing? Board meetings sometimes go over. There's a lot to do in the fall time. You think it'll be any longer? They wrap up soon over at the school. Why? You might have been delayed to wait. For what? I think it would be more appropriate if I talked with her before we continued. So I'm getting them all wrong. No. Most of your answers were right. Then what, Gavin? It's Mr. Neptune. I would like you to call me that. In awkward pause. Kiana rolls her eyes over to the vinyl. She takes her time to pick out records. Why do you do this? You what? I don't get the hype. Oh, and that math drill didn't do it for you? My mother was an arts curator. The way she worked, she had to do more than just curate. She had to draw out all the budgets, how they distributed to each section of the museum, and also the size dimension so that everything fit right. It sounds like a lot, but she loved doing all the numbers. She'd play the right music and just jot away. Older she got, the tougher it became to remember things. Alzheimer's is genetic in our family, so she taught me some things to help her stay afloat. She realized I fell in love with it right away and it all came back full circle. Well, ain't that sweet. OK, Kiana. Really? That's adorable. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Do you miss out the most about her? I'm, let's get back to the lesson. My mother passed when I was born. Never got a chance to meet her. Sometimes I have these dreams of coming out of the womb and seeing her face light up. It's a dream I know, but reality and imagination come together sometimes. Sometimes I wish of real memories like that, you know? Mother and daughter time. I'm so right. Too much. What happened to your father? I think he just gave up. He was too sad, I guess. He used to say all the time, you look more and more like your mama every day. You think you would have kept me, but he didn't. Left me at a church with a blinking instrument case. I don't know. Gavin moves towards Kiana for a sense of comfort. Me feels real tricky. The vulnerability can heal wounds. That's what Janet would say. You can be open with me, Gavin. Kiana, I'm your teacher. And so what? And so I would like to teach. You call these subjunction drills teaching? Am I a child? Yes, you actually are a child, 16 in fact. I know you ain't here to teach today. You're here for something else. I saw you take a letter. I did not take those letters. You ain't slick, Gavin. It's Mr. Neptune. So what? Is this what you're doing? Tell your life story and then bash the curriculum? This ain't nothing. But sorry-ass equations made by some sorry-ass of a man. Oh, right. So this is what Janet warned me about. You know, if you made that all up, you know I'm going to tell Janet. I'm not lying. Then what is it then? I've been pacing here back and forth, trying to understand the trigger that I caused to push you to be bothered. Was it the Rubik's Cube? Asking Ms. Musician to play a song? Too many apologies? But then I think about it. And it's nothing. Nothing at all. I have never had any issues with a student until you. The prodigy. Yeah, sure. I know she may ask some hard questions, but I didn't think she would be so nonchalant about her learning. Kiana feels his words becoming emotional. Janet enters somewhat quietly. Gavin doesn't notice. But then I say, Gavin, have patience in your students. They aren't as arrogant or disrespectful or as irritating as you make them out to be. They're just learning. But turns out I was wrong about you. Hear all those things. Now I ask, Kian, why would you choose me as your teacher if you don't even care? Kiana turns around. She is filled with tears. Gavin becomes immediately regretful. Janet is stunned, but still unnoticed. Because I didn't choose you. That's why. Gavin turns around and sees Janet. Kiana exits. Janet takes a glance at Gavin as he looks down pitifully. Mr. Neptune, I think today's session is canceled. Gavin nods in agreement and begins to pack up supplies, as he does so he remembers the letters. Janet, I think. How dare you talk to my child that way? Who do you think you are? You think you can come up in here and say all that you want like you are daddy? I'll help you. You ain't all that, OK? You ain't that at all. You don't know nothing about my child. You hear me talking to you? Listen, I don't know what planet you came from, but you don't talk that way to my child. I worked hard to bring you into this space, make you feel welcome, and all this progress, damn it. And you just brought it all down with this mess? I just, we don't do that in here. But you'll bury a lie, won't you? Excuse me? Gavin takes out the open letters and places them on the table. Janet is confused, but then connects the dots. She suddenly becomes more hollow. You knew my mama? You speak in nonsense. Your favorite, Frida. You knew her. Why didn't you just? You've been looking through my stuff. You've been stealing? They just felt I. You those weren't meant for you. She's been writing to you. She's been writing since I was born. What happened? What did she do? Mr. Neptune, you invaded my space. You are now an intruder. I need you to leave now. Really? You don't understand. Leave! Don't make me call someone to get you out. Gavin zips his backpack. He puts on his coat and exits. Janet lets out a large exhale. She gathers all of the letters from the table and then has a moment. She then goes to the vinyl and pulls out the rest of the letters, about 10 of them. She spreads them out on the table and looks in somberness. Janet sits and begins to open one of the letters. Blackout. Scenes five. Lights come up on two locations. Gavin is in his room tossing and turning. Another, Janet getting into movement and freestyle dance. She places on a vinyl to help the scene's tone. A jazz record. The lights are dim in Janet's living room as she begins the motions of dance. She is in tune with the part of herself she often neglects, yet is filled with anger and regret. She stops occasionally in the dance to collect that emotional labor. Gavin falls into a dream sequence. Suddenly, he slowly sits up. As this happens, we see Frida Neptune appear, silhouetted between the two. She is the guided spirit. The scenes are happening simultaneous. She. Gavin looks around for the voice but cannot see. Voice. Mama? Is that you? Where are you? Giving energy to light. Gavin gets out of bed and begins to look around for the voice. I'm lost without you. You are found without me. What that mean? Baby, you need to be present. I can't. You can. I don't know. I taught you better than to hang in the things that are unchangeable. Just lost, mama. What did I teach you about binomials at 11? Binomials? What did you learn? That X equals? Na, na, na, baby. Look at the board. Gavin spots the binomial on the fourth wall. He walks forward and begins to examine it. Now what's it? That equation telling you? It's telling me that, that. Suddenly, we hear writing. Gavin becomes stunned as he sees the equation being solved without his hands. Mama, you know I hate having X equal in a fraction. Even if it was a whole, it can be a fraction. But that's not the point, G. The point is that two numbers work to make one. That even though both are gone and moved on, that they made a place for the answer. The binomial isn't busy grieving because they worked to solve the answer. That's all they care for. That's all they love to make this happen. Solving X was like? Bringing your baby into the world. That even when those numbers were frustrated, tired, sad, angry, grieving from other numbers, they knew they time was coming. But they wanted to leave something behind for someone to admire, be inspired by. A number to look up to. Gavin, you are the X factor. You are why I can be allowed to be here, free of all the chains that are humanity. I am but energy that propels you to solve that next equation. Some nights I think about all those days where you sat in front of this board solving all that could be possible. Sometimes impossible. When we solve it together, you cannot imagine what to do with it anymore. Use it to share that knowledge. Use it to bring the next generation. Do right by that. And hopefully one day you can bring me a grandchild. Can you do that for me, baby? I'll try. And G, make right from your faults. You may get the answer wrong, but there's always room to try again. You hear? Gavin takes a moment to think and then realizes her request. I'll try. I promise. Gavin falls back to sleep as his light fades to dark. The light remained on Janet. She has danced to exhaustion. She sits on the floor and begins to sit with her sadness. At a glance, she looked to the letters ribbed but unread. She crawls over and grabs one by the remnants of her last bit of energy. She opens the page as Frieda returns in the silhouetted light. My lovely Pluto, I used to cry about Mars, not Mars really. Mainly the rover. I would cry and cry and cry about it. Sounds like I'm a big baby. I feel like the rover was all alone up there, doing a man-made deed in a man-made shell. Sometimes I want to be there, be that if the rover could, it would turn itself off and interrupt with the life forms there when humans weren't looking. Don't call me crazy. Robots have their own feelings and goals, too. If you ask me, the rover never wanted to be placed on Mars to help humans colonize materials. The rover grew up in these science labs, studied the flaws of its mission just like the flaws in all of us. Then, when the time was right, they shot her up, and sometime later, Mars. Then the rover had her own plan she could fulfill, want to escape and experience life not held by the idea of a scarce Earth and fear of losing to the next country, but simply to live in another place far from what is known to really find themselves. I know it's a simple moving vehicle with cameras and panels and handles and wheels, but I'm jealous. Pluto, remember when we wanted to go to Mars? Be alone completely from the world, remember? We were 17 when we planned to create our own rocket out here. The empowerment craft, we called it. Just pack the rocket with our favorite snacks, bring our VHS tapes, and then combine our vinyl collection, bring all our oils and do our rituals every day, hoping we could make a safe flight. Create our own space suits and deck it out with gold, glitter, and black magic. Sometimes I wish we could have stuck to this. Sometimes I wish we could go back to that time. We were grown enough to know better, but young enough to dream. I never stopped giving up on our dreams. No matter what we went through, even in our later years, that's why I changed my name to Neptune. Just so you know, no matter how many planets or stars or organisms count you out, Neptune will always be next door to send some love to infinity. If you ever get this, I hope you know I loved you until the end, no matter how far apart we are, hopefully soon we come so close again as Neptune was for Pluto. Your favorite, Frida. Janet crunches the letter up. She sits with the words as the lights slowly fade. Blackout, scene six. One week later, we hear a well-played saxophone rift playing in the darkness. Lights come up to Janet writing notes for the next podcast, except she's not writing. She is distracted by the saxophone, tapping her pencil to the familiar tune. The playing stops. How's that, mama? That's the best you've done. That's the best you've done it, baby. You're really holding in. And come on down now. Take a break. In that moment, Janet takes out a small box and sets it on the table. She rearranges herself for a gentle surprise. Keanna enters. Mama, why are you stiff like that? Janet comes to the box. Keanna does a point back to herself as to say, is this for me? Janet responds back with a head nod. Keanna takes a few giant steps toward the box. She does this in a humorous way that tricked Janet to laugh. Keanna opens the box and inside is a golden necklace with two bubbles attached. Mama, what's this? It's Neptune and Pluto, two neighboring planets. Pluto isn't a planet. As far as I'm concerned, Pluto has always been a planet in my book. That's not the point anyway. Janet sits Keanna down, holding her shoulders. Keanna holds up the necklace. The point is that these two are friends. They rely on each other. They are the most distant from all planets, not a whole lot of heat, just a cool. But they are OK with that. They are so different that they love the cold, so much so that the others got envious of their love. Some other planets even tried to adjust their axis around the sun, just so they could gradually move away from it and embrace the cool. They have a love like no other and are still out there, plotting their destiny. Since when do planets have their own minds? Keanna, we are all energy. Everything out there speak for themselves, even Earth itself. Janet helps Keanna put the necklace on. And energy hits Keanna as though a torch was passed. She becomes reminiscent and thankful. Ever since I saw you come through that door that early afternoon, I knew you'd be the perfect mother. I just didn't know. I did everything that day to convince you that I was the one. I saw your tactics, child. You are prodigy, but you ain't that convoluted. Plus, it didn't take a whole lot for me to know you was the one I wanted to adopt. You had to be one of my own. I didn't need no sperm cell to prove that. I still think a lot about those children there. I hope they found safe homes. Who knows, it's been eight years. Keanna kissed his baby again. It would seem the reciprocated kiss was unexpected. Janet holding it together. Hmm. You think Mr. Neptune's into me? Child, please! People slap on their ear. You need to stay seated with that mess. The way y'all was arguing last week, it didn't seem like you liked him at all. I mean, but in two years. You are something else. He too old. You too young. In a discussion. I'm joking, mama. I don't mind Mr. Neptune. He's just, just be overthinking sometime. Like, it's cute, but it make me mad at the same time. And he's super dramatic. But I think I can work to open him up a bit. Man, Niggas is so sorry. Keanna, come back. Sorry. I don't like his tone. But in the same way, I ain't never had a teacher be so passionate. Maybe we can sit down, come up with a better way of communicating and then we can be all right. I know Houston doing that. He ain't coming back here. Why not? Don't you still have to finish the observation? I don't need a person like that yelling at my daughter. He was rude and don't need to be here. But what about the board? It's not about the board. I didn't go through life much too often putting myself in front of others. Often giving everyone the best foot forward. Well, not anymore. I sat and left too many traumas hanging on my walls. Now they reek with regret. I'm tired of it. So I'm cleaning up and washing them down. The board ain't gonna fire me because they need me. I know it and they do too. But nothing beats what's here when you get home. A betrayal could sit in the shadows near your umbrellas all your life if you ain't doing nothing to remove them. No, no, no. I'm turning on the lights. Look, Keanu, you may not understand this now, but part of having Mr. Neptune here was for a friend. And I have to accept that I failed her now. It is what it is. No need to conversate about having him back because he's a doorbell rings. Keanu stands to go look through the cover. Guess who it is? I'll answer it. Instead of opening it or Keanu unlocks it, she then backs up a distant, crosses her hands and stands in a sensual but aggravated posture. It's open. Gavin enters. He carries a ruffle bag, likely what he needs to teach. He holds a vanilla colored folder in his hands. As he makes his way deeper into the house, there is a large overhanging awkwardness mixed with some silence, but eventually. Good afternoon, Janet. Good afternoon, Keanu. Can we help you, sir? I just wanna stop by and drop off materials for the transition. That's it? I also wanted to send a more formal apology. I'm sure you may not need that right now, but my mother taught me better. You couldn't mail all that? See what I mean by dramatic? It's so confused. Get out. Go get washed up for lunch. But... Janet looks into Keanu's soul. Keanu exits. Places the folder on the table. She's right. I could have mailed it. I'll get out of here. I loved her. My... Janet nods as Gavin sits down. They share a moment and look at the whiteboard. Janet looks over to the vinyl collection. We were crate diggers. So we said back then, we used to go through every shop, concert, rummage, dumpster, just to find the right records. Frida loved jazz. More than anyone I had ever known. But she loved cold train the most. We'll go to the depths to find a record of his. She looked for one that she couldn't find for years. 12 years. Janet nods to the vinyl collection. She goes to a special compartment, different from the rest, and pulls out a love supreme. She slides it over to the table to Gavin. He becomes overwhelmed. He looks through the casing to see if it's real. Found it hiding behind a stack of rolling stones at electric fetus in 87. Whoever was trying to keep this vinyl secret is mad as hell to this day. It serves. I promise. She had her signature inside every case. Remember? That's how you knew. Were you Pluto? To her Neptune, baby. I ain't never seen you. I couldn't imagine you would've. We weren't friends then. We had been friends all our lives though. Shared the same records, milkshakes, bed. Our whole lives were in perfect sync. One night things changed for me. It was her 21st. When we left the Prince concert, I looked at her different. She had on a beautiful orange romper. Her hair braided down to her waist. Eyes that made you see all of Lake Superior. I told her, I love you. I felt stupid. We told each other that all the time, but this time I said, no, I love you. I want no one else. Now, me and Frida had our fair share of bad relationships, but she was the only one I felt I could ever count on. And when she said it back, I love you too. It seemed all of the world's problems left the earth. I had all my protection. No asteroid could hit us. I'll always remember our favorite things. Walk down to the metro station nearby pass, the old homes, cafes, and this little art studio. Now in the 80s, your mother used to say she was the Thelma Golden of Minneapolis. Used to bring such great work here. But that great work made her busy. Over the years, it seemed our time together slowly digressed. I didn't think nothing of it at first, but eventually it got to me. Things became hard. So then I asked her, are you still in love with me? She assures me, says everything will be okay. Then the worst day of my life came. I was walking into the metro station alone. I passed by that small art studio and that spot freedom. Holding hands with some man. Happy and not a care in the world. I looked up and all of the world's problems returned and began to rain down on me. Years of love lost down the drain. I walked in that studio and cussed up a storm called everything in the book. Embarrassed myself in front of all those people. Then I ran out. It wasn't until a few paces that I tried to turn back. Ain't nobody chasing me. Ain't no one coming back for me. So I never saw her again after that. Never? I got one call. She called and said for us to not let our friendship go. All our love is still there. I said, not anymore. I hung up for her for his sins. And then. The car crash. She sent me letters every month. I took them and I shoved them in the cubby somewhere. But she was sorry Janet. I know now, but when you're that young and you see the slightest sign of deceit and you pull away before you get hurt. My dad left before I could know him. My mother used to be real sad. She carried a lot on her shoulders. I remember some nights looking up to her just writing profusely in tears. I imagine she was regretful about things. She was wishing things could return. And I imagine she was missing you through it all. Throughout my life, I looked at my mother and I could always tell something was missing. I didn't know Omar left, y'all. Yeah, well, he's dead to me. My mother's legacy is still alive. But how did he know it was me? Doing all this, can you just tell me from the beginning? Frida loved math. No wonder you're gifted. But she loved it so much. We used to do things as a formula. Some equation is solved to understand. She would lay out all these scavenger hunts for me to discover a new vine or she would have puzzles made that show full pictures of us. I had never thought were captured before. You know, one time, she blindfolded me in the middle of the woods and told me, find your way out. Left you in the woods? I would honor her by making this another puzzle. Maybe her son would solve. Oh. So, did I solve it? What do you think? Gavin stands and looks around a bit. He stares at the painting, then the collection and then back at the board. Suddenly, it hits him and he stares down at Love Supreme. He picked up the record and walks over to the vinyl player. He lays the record down and brings the silence to stalls. Janet and Gavin share a fruitful stare. Suddenly, Kiana enters calmly, acknowledging the moment. She sits on the lower steps studiously. Gavin and Janet share a deep look as the front light dissipates. All that is left is a silhouette of the characters frozen in place. End of play. Throw it up, throw it up, throw it up, throw it up.