Solomon Grant Returns to Earth

By Eligah Boykin

Solomon Grant began as a one-man show the author used to perform at coffeehouses and on university campuses. Here you will find him in all his youthful and venerable glory as he regales you with his travels through time and space, stumbling into the underworld, and floating out of the overworld to take questions and give answers. Whether you accept all that he says in faith or take it with a grain of salt, you are advised to check your reality at the door. You are entering the never-ending universe of Solomon Grant. We trust that you will leave with more questions than you came with.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524585341

Eligah Boykin

The author, Eligah Boykin, has logged many miles hiking to the local Cinema House between Mack and Saint Jean. He has caught the Warren and Crosstown buses many a time to the Grand Circus, Palms and Adams theaters. He has whiled away countless afternoon hours watching the offerings of Bill Kennedy, Elwy Yost, and Robert Osborne; famous Movie Television Hosts. Now he wishes to share with you his own reflections and insights regarding one hundred of his favorite movies. So get the popcorn ready and check your DVD collection. TOWARD A NEW CINEMA is in the house!

Book preview

45132.png

SOLOMON GRANT’S

RETURN TO EARTH

45140.png

ELIGAH BOYKIN

Copyright © 2017 by Eligah Boykin.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 02/22/2017

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

753609

Contents

DEDICATION

AUTHOR’S NOTE

CAST OF CHARACTERS

ACT ONE

ACT TWO

ACT THREE

DEDICATION

This is the beginning of the Solomon Grant saga. Life itself has evolved and distilled what you are about to read. Now that we finally have these works on the rails, prepare yourself for the adventures to come. My thanks and gratitude to Sarah Perkins, Kara Cardeno, Mary Waller, Margie Reedy, Arthur Hopkins, Mike Murdock, Ernie Scott, Ben Tolbert and most recently Marline Thompson.

Yours as Ever,

Eligah Boykin

Be truly glad, there is wonderful joy ahead …

– 1 PETER 1:16

Watch people’s actions. Do not listen to their words.

– Swahili

One man cannot hold another man down in the ditch

without remaining down in the ditch with him.

– Booker T. Washington

When you are at your worst, you have got to be at your best!

– Ancient Boykin Proverb

AUTHOR’S NOTE

The work you now hold in your hands took forty years to cull into its present form. I am sure you will believe me when I say had I known how arduous it would be to finally bring this script into its present form, I might have chosen another project. Some scenes here were first presented on the show IT’S YOUR TURN for the PBS Station Channel Fifty-six. You’ll see these scenes involving famous figures from Black History.

The STONECUTTER tale here once toured through the inner city schools of Detroit as a children’s play for the CASS TECH. CHILDREN’S THEATER OF DETROIT. I recall it having a long and memorable run. However, I can now report that you receive this present entertainment at the height of my creative powers.

I hope you enjoy it.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Solomon (35 year old Writer)

Nick (Arch Enemy of God)

Angel (Guardian for Solomon)

Gravedigger No. 1

Gravedigger No. 2

Chocolate Rivers (Troubled Dancer)

Sweet Jim (Mark for Chocolate Rivers)

Roman Turk (Pimp for Chocolate Rivers)

Mavis Brown (Grant’s favorite call girl)

Jumpback Jack (Sidekick of Solomon Grant)

Maurice (12 year old member of the Cass Corridor Boy Scouts)

Alexander (14 year old boy)

Tom (15 year old boy)

Joseph (!5 year old boy)

Beaver (14 year old boy)

Tony (13 year old boy)

Goody (14 year old boy)

De Bunny (16 year old boy)

Mack (15 year old boy)

Bonnie (36 year old Radio Disc Jockey)

Esmeralda (Old flame of Solomon Grant)

Young Girl (12 year old girl dancer)

Syngem (Minion of Nick)

Frederick Douglass

W.E.B. Du Bois

Booker T. Washington

Malcolm X

Martin Luther King

Voice (Male caller)

Harriet Tubman

Voice (Female caller)

Dean Young (Documentary Filmmaker)

Mary McCleod Bethune

Reverend Burke (Corrupt Christian Minister)

Masked Man (Cohort of Reverend Burke)

2nd Masked Man (Cohort of Reverend Burke)

3rd Masked Man (Cohort of Reverend Burke)

Narrator for Famous Figures in African American History

Voice for Outer Space Transport

Voice for Bomb

Offstage Voice

Commentator

image011.jpg

ACT ONE

Soft lighting comes up on entire montage. Lighting slowly turns blue on scene one.

Scene one. A winged angel escorts a bowed head, Solomon Grant, up a spiral staircase coiling around a scaffold. Here a horned devil, Nick Scratch, sits at the top of a platform on the scaffold, idly picking his teeth. We see him casually cross his legs before a table decked out with a complete chess set. We hear the harmonica ringtone of his cell phone, and he answers with snappish ire.*

Nick: Hello? Yah, this is Scratch Enterprises. Who is this? (Silence) What’s the holdup? Paperwork? How in the name of all that is holy could you mess up the paperwork on a standard suicide contract? She says she won’t sign? Well, we’ll see about that! (Silence) Look, call me back in a couple of hours. (Silence) Yeah, I’m in conference with a client right this minute. Meanwhile, consult the manual with regard to standard practices and means of persuasion. (Silence as Nick starts to nod) That’s right, Syngem, heat up the pokers, or your head will be rolling along with the rest!

(Nick Scratch taps off the cell phone with an irritable frown.)

Solomon: (Finally arriving with the angel onto the platform) Mr. Scratch? (He nervously puts forth his hand) I’m Grant. Solomon Grant.

(The frown on Scratch’s face disappears, replaced by a civil smile.)

Nick: Grant! Yes, I remember now. You’re that writer fellow, aren’t you? (Pumping Grant’s hand over the chess set on the table) Can I get you anything? A little wine, perhaps? How about some whiskey or maybe vodka? Can I get something for your friend here?

Angel: I never indulge during work hours.

Nick: (Muttering to himself) Tell me about it … uh, quite right! Well, why don’t we get down to business. You know, our offices have been expecting you for quite some time, Mr. Grant.

Solomon: Sorry to say I wasn’t planning to visit any time soon.

(Nick Scratch and Solomon Grant sit down slowly from each other with wary glances.)

Nick: That’s all right. We’re happy to have you at any rate. I understand from your files you’re a chess man, correct?

Solomon: I’ve been known to dabble from time to time …

Nick: Quite so. You’re aware, naturally, of the stakes involved.

Solomon: Surprise me.

Nick: (With an expansive gesture) No surprises here.

Angel: We were hoping to play for the life of Chocolate Rivers as well …

(Nick regards them both with a steely eye. He carefully shakes his head.)

Nick: No dice. That contract is nonnegotiable.**

(Nick and Solomon exchange moves as the lights fade on their frozen positions.)

Intercom: (Mechanical voice offstage) COMMANDER GRANT REPORT FOR DEPARTURE … COMMANDER GRANT REPORT FOR DEPARTURE … COMMANDER GRANT REPORT FOR DEPARTURE …

Scene Two. We see two shovels rising and lowering out of a trap in the stage floor. Dirt and earth are being flung upward beneath the scaffold and before a sculpture tombstone that has no name on it. At first, we can hear the voices of the gravediggers but do not see them. The Commodores’ ‘Night Shift’ plays in the background.

Gravedigger No. 1: What did the order say, Sam?

Gravedigger No. 2: Just a bunch of scribbling, Dave. You know Mike don’t know how to make out a requisition form for a coffin to save his life!

Gravedigger No. 1: Who we supposed to be layin’ out down here then? Man or woman?

Gravedigger No. 1: Take yo’ pick! Your guess is as good as mine!

Gravedigger No. 2: Don’t make no types uh sense. That’s no way to run a funeral home.

Gravedigger No. 1: Who writes out coffin forms by hand these days anyways? We would know who we was buryin’ if they had just printed out that shit on a computer.

Gravedigger No. 2: All I saw was a bunch of numbers on the invoice sheet. Don’t mean jack to me.

Gravedigger No. 1: Doggone shame! How the devil we supposed to know how wide and deep to make this hole? We could be diggin’ this for a lil’ baby as much as we know …

Gravedigger No. 2: Don’t say that, Dave. Besides, you can see this plot ain’t no baby hole. Whoever this is got to be a full-sized adult.

Gravedigger No. 1: This hole is big enough to suit one all right. I don’t care much anyway who goes in the ground, long as this gig pay better’n than minimum wage.

Gravedigger No. 2: Face it, Dave. Our days are numbered. Once they figure out how to outfit some digging machines with computers, we’ll be topside and unemployed again.

Gravedigger No. 1: Hey, Sam!

(Sound of shovel knocking and thumping)

Gravedigger No. 2: What’s that? Whatcha got there?

Gravedigger No. 1: I don’t know. There’s somethin’ hard down here. (Sound of shovel knocking) I don’t know what it is …

Gravedigger No. 2: Let’s dig it out then and see.

(The two shovels throw dirt out of the trap even more frantically now. The voice of an elderly woman is heard in a crackling recording interspersed with a mechanical offstage voice.)

Recording: That’s right, young man. There’s twenty-four hours to every day.

Intercom: DESCENT SEQUENCE HAS BEGUN …

Recording: Eight hours to work, eight hours to play, and eight hours for rest.

Intercom: START OF DEORBIT BURN …

Recording: There’s more than enough time to do all you got to do if you use it right.

Intercom: JETTISON RETRO MOTORS …

(Lights fade on the gravediggers.)

Scene three. Lights rise on a bedroom situated in the middle of the scaffold on a platform. Steps lead up to it on one side and down from it on the other side. A young woman known as Chocolate Rivers is seen greeting half a dozen men one by one before turning out a nightstand light and engaging in simulated silhouetted sex acts with them. We hear the voices of the silhouettes discussing future liaisons to be billed for later on a calendar.

Chocolate: How about the fourteenth of this month, Sweet Jim?

Sweet Jim: Naw, baby, I got business to attend to on that day. Jury duty, and my wife’s family is coming to town.

Chocolate: You better get in contact with Turk then. Send the money through him for a meet-up request. He’ll manage everything from there.

(Chocolate turns up the light on the nightstand. We can see her and this latest client.)

Sweet Jim: All righty then, you be good, baby girl! It was nice to see you again, sugar-sugar.

Chocolate: (Responding spiritlessly) It was nice to see you too, Jim. When do you think you’ll be coming back?

Sweet Jim: (Forcing a kiss on her) Soon, baby, soon. I would be back in yo’ shit tomorrow if I could swing it! I’ll let Turk know in a few days.

Chocolate: (Barely concealing a hint of contempt) Yeah, you be sure to let me know now.

(Chocolate finishes strapping herself into her bra and goes over to the dresser and plops herself into a chair. Sweet Jim takes the back way down the steps as she is sighing to herself disconsolately. Roman Turk comes up the steps the other way counting his money.)

Roman Turk: Yes, sir, things are looking up, darling. But you got to work on your attitude, honey. You got to be nice to them tricks if you expectin’ them to come back.

A NOTE TO REMEMBER:

*After the harmonica ringtone, a gunshot should be heard going off.

** Nick says this line, and you should see and hear the gravediggers’ shovels at work.

Chocolate: (Looks from the bureau mirror with a long, sad sigh) Roman, how much longer I got to do this? When do I get back to my dancing? Haven’t we made enough money yet?

(Roman Turk is seated on the bed and counting cash into sizable stacks and wrapping them with big rubber bands.)

Roman Turk: (Coldly and expressionlessly) It’s lookin’ much better. It’s lookin’ much better. I’ll tell you what—why don’t I send you off on a little shopping spree?

Chocolate: (Frenzied and with exasperation) Roman, that’s all you ever say! I don’t think I can do this anymore. I—I—you said I could meet someone this way, someone with a lot of money, someone who would help me with my dancing. You said we would start our own company, that eventually I would be able to launch my own career. Roman? Roman, don’t make me do this anymore. This is tearing me apart! (Looking from the mirror at Roman’s back. He gives her no answer.) Roman, I’m your woman!

(Roman tosses another stack of money on the bed. He turns to Chocolate, walks over, and slaps her smartly across the face.)

Roman Turk: Shut up! You’ll stop when I tell you to stop and not one second sooner. What would you rather do, baby? Huh? Draw welfare checks and have babies you can’t feed and somebody else has to keep? I’m doing a favor for you, bitch, and don’t you ever forget it! I’ll flip the ‘off’ switch on your pussy when I’m good and ready!

Chocolate: (Weeping softly to herself) Roman? Isn’t there something better than this thing? There’s got to be something better. I just know there is. I can’t go on turning tricks, Roman. I’m killing myself this way …

Roman Turk: (Walking over to the dresser and adjusting his tie as he looks at himself in the mirror) Well, baby, when you find that something better. I hope you can get it to feed and clothe you and pay your bills too. Until then, it’s business as usual from where I stand.

(Roman Turk pulls a gun out of the dresser drawer, spins the cylinder, eyeing it. He walks over and hands it to Chocolate Rivers, patting her on the cheek.)

Roman Turk: I hate to break in a new piece of pussy, but any time you think your shelf life has expired, I suggest you suck on this, and it’ll make it all better. The best dancin’ you ever did for me is flat on your back. That’s the type of dancin’ that puts money in my pocket! You keep dancin’ that lean green my way, we straight. Dancer? Bitch, please! You never would have consented to this was you any types of real dancer.

Chocolate: (Hissing and holding on to the gun) I hate you, Roman …

(Roman Turk grabs her by the shoulder and thrusts her up against the bureau mirror.)

Roman Turk: Oh yeah? Take a good, hard look at who you really hate, bitch! Naw, you don’t hate me. You love me because I see you for what you really are. At least the way I got you hating on yourself makes us both some money. Now when it gets so bad you need some help finding that trigger, just give me a holler. I’ll be Johnny-on-the spot, and I’ll betcha!

(Roman Turk whirls her around, and they struggle. Both are holding on to the gun as they topple the night light. We hear Chocolate Rivers’s screams as two shots flash off in the darkness. Finally, we then hear the footsteps of Roman Turk going down the back steps. He is hyperventilating, and we hear his voice from offstage as lights fade to black.)

Roman Turk: Damn! Damn that crazy bitch!

Scene four. Lights rise up on a bedroom situated upon the apron of the stage. We find Solomon Grant sitting at the foot of the bed, lacing up his shoes and stomping his feet upon the floor. Mavis ‘Honey Bunny’ Brown is lying across the length of the bed, wrapped up in the bed sheet. She idly moves the pawns on the chess set before her.

Solomon: Good shoes. Face it, Mavis, there’s nothing left to do but marry me now!

Mavis Brown: (Exhaling smoke from a cigarette) Marry you? I think that’s supposed to be my line, isn’t it? (Laughs) What good it gon’ do me to marry yo’ sorry black ass? Marry you! Now Solomon, there’s got to be something better than that you can think up for us to be doing. I just know there’s got to be. What you look like marrying me? I can’t up and marry you! That would be worse than slow death on a barbeque grill, Mr. Man.

Solomon: Aw, Mavis. All right, you don’t have to rub it in …

Mavis Brown: (Taking another drag from her cigarette) Don’t be talking that mess then, baby. You know I’m not the one. Whoever you jump the broom with, it shore not going to be me. (Exhaling from her cigarette) Solomon?

Solomon: Yeah, Mavis?

Mavis Brown: (Nonchalantly holding the queen piece between her fingertips) You want to play another one? Seems to me your game has gotten stronger.

Solomon: Yeah, I know.

Mavis Brown: (Smiling coyly) You not gon’ try and take my king again, are you?

Solomon: (Soberly) What do you think?

Mavis Brown: (Exhaling smoke from cigarette) Think you a damn fool, that’s what I think. No two ways about. (Holding up the king piece) See this? This is Reverend Burke. See that? (Now passing her hand over all the pieces on her side) This here is his whole mob behind him.

Solomon: Suppose that includes you too if it comes to it, huh?

Mavis Brown: (Mocking light laugh) At these prices? Absolutely, baby!

Solomon: (Taking jump rope and twirling it in the air) Mavis, what am I going to do with you?

Mavis Brown: Don’t be talkin’ that stuff, Solomon.

(Solomon starts skipping rope. You can hear the steady whirr of the rope as he speaks.)

Solomon: Yeah well, maybe I’ll just lay low for a while.

Mavis Brown: (Stubbing out her cigarette and moving one of the pawns to the center of the board) Don’t snow me, man. You’re just crazy enough to get mixed up in that mess all over again. You take my advice, you’ll get the best help you can.

Solomon: I aim to, darling. I’m going to settle this score once and for all.

Mavis Brown: I hope you do, baby, hope you do. But don’t expect any help from me. If the word comes down through the grapevine that you and Burke have locked horns, I’ll just be one more person you’ll have to deal with.

Solomon: (Wryly) Defender of the status quo, huh?

(Solomon stops skipping rope. He places the jump rope again at the foot of the bed.)

Mavis Brown: Most definitely. I know which side butters my bread, but I believe in a fair fight, and I wouldn’t want to send you out of here without a sporting chance.

(Mavis walks over to the dresser and returns with a semiautomatic weapon.)

Here, baby. Just in case Burke don’t want to challenge you to a jump rope contest or play chess.

Solomon: (Taking weapon) What am I supposed to do with this?

Mavis Brown: What? I got to paint you a picture, man? How about tryin’ some target practice for starters? You might want to rehearse some ducking too. Just to keep in mind what kind of game you gon’ be in.

Solomon: (Looking at the weapon) I know the game, all right, and I know the rules. But your choice of weapons looks a little chancy to me. When I take aim at my target, he’s going down. I don’t want to give him any margin for error.

Mavis Brown: Suit yourself, Mr. Man. But I would hold on to that if I was