Salt Peanuts
LGA

We see a projection of a large airport departure board (the flipping kind) fluttering over and over inter-cut with scenes of 50's airplanes landing, taxiing and taking off. Over the flutter of the board we hear ambient crowd sounds mixed with departure announcements. Gradually, this crowd sound becomes an audience, and the announcement is an introduction by Dizzy Gillespie to Perdido from the Massey Hall recordings of May 15, 1953. The departure board stops at a flight from LGA to Toronto–now we hear an announcement "the 9:00AM American Airlines flight to Toronto now boarding at Gate 5." The departure board changes again this time stopping on the status "Departed".
A lone figure dressed in a suit and beret, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and carrying a trumpet case, shuffles tiredly beneath the big board. It is Dizzy Gillespie. He stops and stares up at the departure board. Taking it in, he turns away and kicking an unseen stone says, "Fuck" almost yelling under his breath. Feeling as though he's been caught cussing in church, he attempts composure, he puts down his case, buttons his jacket and stands bow-legged, his feet at ten and two, smoothing his Harlem tailored suit with his long tawny hands. He picks up his horn case and begins surveying the immediate area. The music fades.
Just then enters Charlie Parker in a rumpled suit with a mis-buttoned jacket carrying only a trench coat over one arm. Protruding from his jacket appears to be a cardboard cigar box which has been shoved tightly and awkwardly into his outer pocket. Despite walking slowly towards Dizz, Charlie is sweating and breathing a little heavily as if he had just run to get there.
He calls out:
Bird:
Birks (beat) Dizz…

Dizz:
(turns quickly and upon seeing Charlie considers another "Fuck" outburst but thinks better of it, and smiles):
"Well, if it ain't his royal highness, Charles Goddamned Parker!"

Bird:
(riffing off Dizz, he genuflects slightly)
Ma Lordship…

Dizz:
…and looking like something the cat dragged in…

Bird:
(considering himself, as if having just been fitted for a tailored suit)
Must've been a big cat.

Dizz:
A big cat who can't tell time neither!

Bird:
(looking for redemption)
Sorry Dizz (beat) I guess I never shoulda followed that rabbit down that ol' hole.

Dizz:
Cut the shit, Bird–maybe next time I'll pay some cat to drag your ass somewhere on time for once!

Bird:
Maybe you should. It'd be cheaper than paying for a cab way out here. Why didn't we just take a car to the gig.

Dizz:
To Canada? Fifteen hours of driving and nothing but Rochester in between? You crazy? (beat) Son of a bitch, Bird, we missed the plane. It's gone! Departed!

Bird:
oh (beat) hmmm. Like, 'Dearly departed'?

Dizz:
I sent Roach and Bud on ahead, we'll meet them in Toronto at the show. I booked us seats on the next plane–leaves soon enough. (Dizz reaches into his inside coat pocket and extends a ticket to Bird, stops, looks at Bird again, puts the ticket back into his jacket.)
I'll hang onto this.
Bird:
Fine by me. I'm prone to losing things anyway.

Dizz:
I’m already missing the fight tonight, (beat) don’t want to miss the gig too.
(Dizz ambles towards a bench at centre stage and falls into a seat. He sways his neck in an attempt to ease out a crack. Charlie, in a delayed response breaks his gaze of nothing in particular, follows Dizz, taking a seat beside Dizz and stares into a space above his head.
Neither man is adept at waiting and both sit fitfully while they wait in the midst of a bustling airport. Dizz produces some papers and a pencil from his inside coat pocket and puts his case across his lap to make an impromptu writing desk. He begins making notes. We hear a band playing in the background, a Salvation Army Band, playing a slow clunky rendition of When the Saints Go Marchin’ In)

Bird:
Hear that? A Sally Ann Band come to meet us - see us off.(singing lowly)
oh when the Saints go marching in...oh when the Saints go marchin' in...I wanna be in that number -

Dizz:
(still writing and looking at his notes)
Don't worry - that's a number you won't be in...

Bird :
That's alright. Maybe I'll just listen in for once. I like those Salvation Army Bands.

Dizz:
Why's that? You haven't got time for their preachin’ but you got time for their playin’? You’re just their type. They want to get you off “The Drink. ”

Bird:
Well - not for the preachin' but for the playin', sure. Just nice, you know, to see a band playing and marching in the street. Like down in New Orleans. Like a funeral march, a requiem. Sad, (beat) beautiful.

Dizz:
(Dizz stops taking notes and looks a little more thoughtful as he listens a little more closely)
Well, it’s more sad than beautiful right now. I hope they play something good when I go. (pauses) but not so good that I'd hate to miss it. ( laughs) maybe I’d like to 'miss' my funeral. I hope I never hear that music…suppose that' s a wish that always comes true. The day comes and you always miss it. (beat) Well, if I go before you, Bird, make sure one of those bands (gesturing to S.A. Band) isn't playing.

Bird:
Watch it now. They're playing for you too...

Dizz:
Me?

Bird:
..and me. Remember they're playing to save your soul from the evils of alcohol.

Dizz:
(With some disdain) ...well. (pause) if they're going to save my soul, they're going to have to play a whole lot better.

Bird:
(laughing) Amen.

Dizz:
…and, if they are going to save Your Soul, Mr. Parker, they're going to need more than just one army.

Bird:
(still laughing) That's okay. I've got you to save me.

Dizz: (back to his notes)
I wouldn’t count on it. I’ve got enough on my plate.

Bird:
You’re right. You’re a busy man, I’ll have to find another saviour.

Dizz:
(At this point, Dizzy, looks a little more closely at Bird, does a quick check on the bench and below it and notices that Bird hasn’t got his saxophone)
Yard?

Bird:
uhh hum
(Bird seems to be a little lost staring at the departure board)

Dizz:
Yard, man, where is your horn?

Bird:
What?

Dizz:
(louder) your horn?
(a nearby infant in a mother's arms is startled by Dizz and begins to cry)

Bird:
oh I don't remember - somewhere

Dizz:
(staring at Bird )
Well 'somewhere' isn't 'here' - what were you going to do tonight?

Bird:
(still looking distracted)
I don't know, something.

Dizz:
Well when you going to tell me?

Bird:
I don't know - I forgot - I guess I was going to tell you when you were going to tell me what we're playing.

Dizz:
Well, it doesn't make much of difference now seeing as you just 'forgot' your horn on your way to a gig?

Bird:
I guess so...
(infant crying even louder now)

Dizz:
(standing - Dizz throws a look at the mother)
I know you just didn't 'forget' your horn, Charlie

Bird:
Dizz,
(Bird breaks his gaze and looks back to Dizz)
I lost it somewhere - I'll get one before the show - there's a band playing before us - I'll get one from one of those guys.

Dizz:
(infant still crying)
Bird? you didn't lose your horn did you? You hocked it for some junk...and I…I don't know…

Bird:
What, nothing to say?
(Dizzy's eyes searching Bird's face and back to the crying infant.)

Bird:
(turns to mother on the other side of the bench)
I'm sorry Ma'am, I'm sorry

Dizz:
yeah. I'm sorry too.
(now looking at the SA Band)
I'm going to go see if that bunch can stop saving our souls for a minute and save our asses instead!
(Dizzy walks away from the bench and into the darkness.)