Dessi Blue
EXTERIOR – LONDON – NIGHT
Dessi and Cal walk swiftly through Central London, both looking around as if unsure where they are. Both carry gas masks. Cal also totes his trumpet case. The streets have steady traffic with a few people milling about.
DESSI
It’s Surrey Street, you said?
CAL
Yeah. I don’t see—oh, wait. I think it’s . . . here’s The Strand.
DESSI
We the blind leading the blind. Why we have to do this tonight?
CAL
We need to meet this cat, see if he can play. A band with no drummer—what’s that?
DESSI
I hate you had to fire Bird. He’s been with us since the beginning.
CAL
Bird is on that hop and not even trying to get off that ride. Not showing up for gigs, missing cues, falling asleep onstage—he gotta get clean before he can be in my band.
DESSI
I know. At least he’s going home.
CAL
What’s so great about home? Why you think Langston Hughes, James Baldwin and all them come over here? America don’t love us.
DESSI
Sometimes home ain’t great, but it’s still home. I miss my mama. You know the last time I saw my mama? Had her fried chicken?
A groupof uniformed British soldiers walk by. Dessi turns her head to follow their progress before turning back to Cal.
DESSI
Been five years since Mama moved back to Alabama.
At least there ain’t war at home. We running outta France to escape the Germans. Now we running underground in London, hiding from the Germans. Bombs dropping.
Dessi holdsup her gas mask.
DESSI
Gotta wear these just to stay alive.
CAL
You know what we are? Working. Making music and seeing the world. You get tired of that, let me know, and you can catch the next boat with Bird back to the States. I don’t miss America and it don’t feel like home. Where I can make money with this horn right here and don’t have to fear for my life just for looking at a white woman? That feels like home.