Again, HL: TS mirrors how life’s experiences essentially pattern what we are, and what we may become. This episode deals with the effects that racism and discrimination have on a personality. We know that bigotry permanently affects a mortal’s outlook; the Immortal is blessed/cursed with an unlimited lifespan to fester with resentment and reinforce hate.
Please check out Countee Cullen’s poem, posted below, at the end of this synopsis.
Jim Byrnes’ rendition of “Jack of Diamonds,” on his blues guitar provides the haunting musical flavor for the depiction of the black experience— being de-humanized, hunted, despised, forever fearful, forever running.
The renegade Watchers haven’t gone away, they still stalk Immortals. Carl Robinson is used to anti-black racism; now he discovers anti-Immortal racism as well.
CARL ROBINSON — Immortal, a talented African American that Mac befriends after saving him from a lynch mob in 1926.
CARTER — Mortal, white racist cop and renegade Watcher.
KENNY — Mortal, Carter’s partner, another white cop, but of a different sort.
RICKY — Mortal, African American street kid, Carl’s sidekick.
Louisiana, 1926
The day’s clear and bright—
But brimming with hate.
Their gallows is makeshift—
But the Klan cannot wait.
They are lynching sharecroppers,
No precise reason why,
Except their dark skin—
Gives offense to the eye.
At the edge of the meadow—
Duncan’s car pulls aside,
The Highlander takes—
A short pause to decide.
He’ll not sit and watch—
While murder goes down,
Aims his car at the gallows,
Levels it to the ground.
Dark hands bound with rope,
MacLeod sets them free.
One man is Immortal,
Carl Robinson is he.
“Who are you?” he asks,
Mac tells him his name.
“Go!” Mac insists,
He’s not there for the Game.
The black men take off,
The Klan leader’s incensed!
“What the hell d’you do that for?”
Mac attempts no defense.
The Klan’s prey’s escaped—
‘Cause of this meddling pest!
So, he empties his shotgun—
Into MacLeod’s chest!
Seacouver Street, Present Day
Ricky likes to hang out—
As Carl Robinson’s friend.
Carl has spotted a drug deal,
Approaching its end.
“Get us some wheels,”
Carl says to the boy,
While he goes inside,
To try out his new ploy.
“Just give me the money,
I don’t want your blow!”
They pull out a shotgun,
(What do they know?)
Carl quickly disarms them,
Throws the gun in the trash,
When he hears Ricky’s whistle—
He bolts with their cash.
Charlie D. and MacLeod—
Strolling by, feeling good.
Their bellies are filled—
With the best Chinese food.
Charlie sees Ricky whistle,
Carl is not very far.
The Buzz! Charlie yells—
“Stop! That’s my car!”
They chase! The car crashes!
The front end’s a mess,
They catch up to Carl—
On a high overpass,
He leaps in the air,
Landing safe beyond range,
Gives Mac a salute,
Charlie notes this exchange.
Charlie screams in frustration,
“I’ll remember you!
Who is he, MacLeod?
Someone you knew?”
Mac looks so despondent,
His voice sad and low,
“I was thinking of someone—
That I used to know.”
Back in the Louisiana Field, 1926
When Duncan revives—
From the shotgun’s cruel blast,
He painfully drives—
Out of there, very fast.
Meanwhile men and dogs—
Are chasing Carl’s scent,
He’s led them afar—
From the way his friends went.
MacLeod locates Carl,
(Buzzing aids navigation),
Mac drives Carl to safety—
To the Klansmen’s’ frustration.
Later, when washing—
The bloodstains from sight,
Mac says, “Shouldn’t bring—
A knife to a gunfight.”
Carl tells of his death—
In 1859,
As slaves, they toiled hard—
But were treated like swine.
The slavemaster’s daughter—
Got pregnant and.... Hey!
Carl was the right color,
Therefore, he had to pay.
Whenever he tries—
To advance, he is cheated.
Always judged by his color,
His hopes are defeated.
“I’ll help you,” says Mac,
“We can’t let this continue.”
“No, I’ll go up North,
And seek a new venue.”
“My dream to play baseball—
White man’s hate will prevent,
So I’ll study, pass laws,
Someday be president!”
Carl is bursting with hope,
Confident on that day.
He will not let the racists—
Stand in his way.
The Waterfront, Present Day
Mac follows Ricky—
To Carl’s seedy shack,
Mired deep in self-pity,
“You ain’t me, you ain’t black!”
Mac: “It’s not about blackness,
You stole someone’s car,
You’ve a Master’s Degree,
And look where you are.”
The Police Station
Charlie pores over mug shots,
Ricky’s there for a starter.
When he points to Carl Robinson—
Officer Carter—
Says, “This one is wanted,
He murdered someone.
Arizona has a warrant,
For this son-of-a gun.”
The Loft
Carl: “You own this place?
And the dojo, also?
That’s why you helped me,
Way back long ago.
Rich guilt-ridden white folk—
Help ‘nigras’ go far—
I’ll pay for the damages.”
Mac: “It wasn’t my car.”
When Charlie walks in,
He sees Carl with Mac.
Carl and Charlie trade insults,
Who is more “black.”?
“He is wanted for murder!”
“I’ve murdered no one!”
Carl gives Charlie payment—
For the damage he’s done.
The Street
“They’re all criminals and addicts,
Unwed mothers,” sneers Carter,
As he checks out the street—
With Kenny, his partner.
Kenny tells him he sounds—
Very much like the Klan.
Over there, “That kid Ricky”—
Turns and runs from “the Man.”
Ricky’s cornered by Carter,
He submits; he won’t quarrel.
Carter beats on the kid—
But he won’t give up Carl!
Carter threatens to jail him—
On a trumped up drug charge,
But Kenny saves Ricky—
From Carter’s barrage.
The Dojo
Mac and Carl trading thrusts,
Swords par excellence!
“Pretty good,” admires Carl,
Mac: “You should see me dance!”
Carl is far too aggressive,
Mac disarms him with zeal.
Carl’s uneasy response—
“Good thing it wasn’t real.”
Carl needles DeSalvo,
His attitude shoddy,
“The name of a white man—
In a black body.”
Charlie’s taken enough!
His flashpoint is near,
“MacLeod, get this thief’s—
Ass out of here!
The Street
“Not everyone hates—
Or is racist,” says Mac.
Trying hard to put Carl—
His friend, back on track
Carl: “I stopped believing—
Fairy tales from the shelf.”
Mac: “You also have lost—
Belief in yourself.”
When later, Carl walks—
Down the dark lonely street—
Carter, in his cop car—
Runs him down, like dead meat.
Carter’s brought a large axe,
What does he plan to do?
Witnesses thwart his plan,
But we see his TATTOO!
The Loft
“A cop ran me over!
A WHITE cop...no reason!
When these cops see us—
It becomes open season!
Remember when I pitched—
Against Satchel Paige?”
Mac remembers it well,
Humiliation, then rage.
Flashback, May 17, 1954
Post-game, Negro League,
Stopped for lunch in a diner,
They were hungry but happy,
Life couldn’t be finer.
Carl neglected to check—
The “Whites Only” sign,
“Your friend shouldn’t be here,”
Was the sheriff’s vile line.
He makes a mistake,
When he squeezes Mac’s shoulder,
With the same attitude—
As Carl’s former slaveholder,
“I’ll show you who eats here!”
Mac settles his hash.
Shoves the racist pig’s face—
In some warm succotash.
“Don’t apologize, Carl.
Don’t accept this...things change!
You have lots of time.”
Carl: “People are strange,
They WILL NOT let it happen.”
“Oh, yeah?”.... Indisputable—
Newspaper headline....
SEGREGATION UNCONSTITUTIONAL!
“I’ll be part of this change,”
“Go do it,” says Mac,
“Get on that train—
And never look back.”
They clasp hands like brothers,
Carl’s face all agleam,
His color can’t stop him—
From pursuing his dream.
The Loft, Then Police Station, Present Day
“Nothing changes!” shouts Carl,
The cop beat Ricky too.
“A weird thing on his wrist,”
Ricky says—“a tattoo.”
Mac checks with police,
No law, Carl violated,
Mac tells Carl, “These Watchers—
Want Immortals annihilated!”
When Carter saw Mac—
In his police station,
Checking Carl’s status—
He was filled with elation.
“We got ‘em,” he says—
On the phone with the news.
Then he takes his police car—
Out for a short cruise.
The Street
Carter shoots at both men—
From his police car.
Mac and Carl duck for cover,
Only glass smashed so far.
“Maybe it’s time for—
Old Carl to move on,
If this cop’s out to get me—
I’d better be gone.”
Carl will not stay and fight,
Still toting slave’s baggage,
MacLeod shakes him up,
His attack almost savage.
“Carl, you have a gift—
Time! To turn a new leaf!
You can follow your dream,
Or live like a thief!”
“We will hunt down this cop,
We’ll see this thing through.
His partner will help us.
Car five-ninety-two.”
“No way this cop helps us!”
“He’s white, is that why?
This may come as a shock—
But, Carl, so am I!”
Outside Carl’s Shack
Kenny will do what’s right,
He abhors racist hate.
He awaits the right moment.
Carter snaps at the bait.
Carl is kneeling defenseless—
By his waterfront shed,
Carter strides with a shotgun,
And an axe...for Carl’s head.
“I’m gonna kill you—
Forever,” he growls.
When Kenny steps forward,
Carter just scowls.
“If I have to, I’ll shoot!”
Kenny raises his gun,
But Carter must finish—
What he has begun.
Kenny shoots straight and true,
One cop kills the other!
Now Carl has discovered—
A brand new white brother.
Carl’s filled with new hope,
Some folks will do right,
With no thought at all—
To who’s black or who’s white.
Chiefs’ Dugout, Days Later
Mac has come as a fan,
Carl, the pitcher—is ready.
His mission is clear,
Heart and hands are now steady.
His dream—to be President,
Within him, still strong.
There’s “The Star Spangled Banner.”
“They’re playing your song!”
Peace, Emit
© 2001-2003
This episode reminded me of a short poem that I would like to share with the BB. Childhood shapes the adult—always remember that, when dealing with children. You can change their lives forever.