FIRE AND FLAGS – The Two Book Ends of Civilization © July 2005

Rakim Hudson woke up at 7 am to burn an American Flag to mark the 230th anniversary of the signing of the declaration of independence. He had been celebrating the fourth of July in this manner for the past three years. This summer would be the first time he would mark the occasion outside of New York City. In fact, way outside of New York City in a small western town in southern Utah – the former filming location of the 1970’s television show Gun Smoke.

In the heart of Mormon country, burning an American flag was a brave act on Rakim’s part. He was fortunate not to see any of his peers as he discreetly left another company member’s apartment at half past seven - most of the other company members from the Renaissance Theatre Festival (RTF) were still hung over from the opening weekend party the previous night. He did of course bump into Juliet who had gotten up to see why he had left her bed before she woke up.

“Justice”, she quietly called him from her porch. Everyone that knew Rakim personally called him Justice because that was the name he used most frequently when he performed his poetry. “Jusssstice”, Juliet moaned loud enough to stop Rakim mid-step.

Rakim held up his index finger – indicating that he would return to her shortly. She waved her hand beckoning him in that way he now found impossible to resist. Rakim had noticed and pursued Juliet since the first day of orientation at RTF. Yet she had not noticed him – other than to note that he was the only black actor in the cast of each of the three plays in the outdoor theatre.

“Yes, may I help you,” Rakim whispered loudly as he turned to approach Juliet.

“Come here”, Juliet wined as she batted her big thespian turquoise eyes and then licking her thin pink lips. As he arrived – “Should I start calling you Injustice? That wasn’t fair to leave me without saying goodbye” – her good speech was gone and her strong Wisconsin sounds were all in place.

“You already know why I have to leave,” he declared forthrightly.

“Yes. I know why you have to leave, I just don’t know why you have to leave without saying goodbye.”

“You’re right.”

“I know.” She smiled at him – enjoying her quick victory over him. “So how are you gonna make it up to me.”

Rakim smiled. “I don’t know.”

“You’re lucky that you have somebody waiting for you in your apartment right now,” Juliet conceded.

“Yeah, real lucky,” he smirked.

“But….” she held the pregnant pause on the tip of her tongue as she subtly revealed more cleavage.

“But?” Rakim wondered allowed. She couldn’t possibly want him to come back to bed. He had already taken a big risk last night. Rakim’s former director from the off-Broadway production of the Old Settler at Princeton’s McCarter Theatre and long-time married lover, Angela Anderson had come to spend a few days in Utah with him. But he could not resist Juliet’s offer last night. It seemed to him like Juliet was turned on by her own sexual abilities that forced Rakim to submit to her despite having another woman waiting for him in his apartment – in his bed. The fact that Angela was black may have made the victory all the more sweet for Juliet - the grandchild of Irish immigrants. Maybe not? He wasn’t sure about her racial politics yet.

“But …you have to kiss me goodbye before you go.” Juliet stared at him knowing that he would comply but not knowing how he would comply. Then with a moment of hesitation she began to wonder if he would comply at all. She took a step closer – now the robe was completely open and she stood on the porch in her burgundy silk Victoria Secret matching bra and thong set. She stopped waiting for him to comply. She kissed him.

He kissed her back. He already loved her but was intimidated by her both because she was beautiful and she was white. He had joked about Kobe Bryant’s rape charges but it really was a serious concern for him. He knew of too many and too-recent cases of black men being falsely accused of raping white women. He forgot about this possibility while he kissed her - his vital parts became warm and tense draining the blood away from his brain.

They both stopped kissing at exactly the same time staring in each other’s eyes for moments that seemed to transcend time itself. As Rakim turned and walked away with the purpose of a lone freedom fighter trapped behind enemy lines – Juliet watched him glide past the backdrop of southern Utah’s red hills and snow-capped mountains. The scene was well played from end to beginning.



When Rakim returned home - Angela was snoring and curled into a ball. She flew in yesterday afternoon immediately after her production of TopDog/UnderDog opened at the Arena stage in Washington, D.C. She declined Rakim’s invitation to go to the opening night party slyly stating - “Roc’ I’m gonna get some rest so I’ll have enough strength to do what I came here to do.” She refused to call him Justice – except when he made her call it out while she was in compromised and enjoyable positions.

“Don’t wait up - Old Settler”, Rakim let slip before he left that night. Now that he was back and Angela still was not awake he almost forgot that he had shared passionate and intimate moments for the first time with a woman he had just fallen in love with. He was about to climb in bed with this beautiful and athletic walnut complexioned goddess who was nearly twice his age – although no one ever believed she was older than 35. But when he peeled back the covers - Angela was lying virtually naked wearing the exact same pair of burgundy Victoria Secret matching underwear that Juliet was wearing as Rakim left her apartment. He jumped back and almost vocalized his feeling of horror. Partly because he remembered it would be nasty to have sex with two women consecutively without showering in between – partly because he needed to reflect and see if this coincidence may be an omen. Rakim lived his life based on omens but often the omens were impossible to decipher – like the time he was dating two dancers with the exact same type of birth mark on the exact same spot just below their left buttock.

When the steamy hot water hit his finger-nail-scarred back Rakim finally let out an audible enough sound to alert Angela that he had come home. The pain from the water hitting the fresh fingernail scars made it impossible for him to think about anything other than the ecstasy he just experienced while being one with Juliet. He replayed everything from the night before as he briskly scrubbed his private parts hoping to remember what it was he did right with Juliet so that he would be sure to create those moments anew in the future.

He had been dancing alone in the middle of the dance floor. The deejay played an eclectic mix of rock, swing, country and hip-hop for this virtually all white gathering of the RTF Company. Despite his skill on stage he was actually too shy to ask anyone to dance. Besides the feeling of rejection from someone that you don’t really want to dance with was not his favorite experience when he was in a room full of non-black partygoers. So when Juliet came up behind him and started rubbing her full C-cup breast up against his back he resisted the impulse to quickly peel around and see who was behind him. Perhaps that was the first thing he did right.




Angela climbing into the Shower with him – “you have barely kissed me since I arrived – don’t try to shirk your responsibility Husband”, interrupted his mental replay of the events. Angela called him by the name of the character he played in her production of The Old Settler whenever she wanted to acknowledge both her superiority in age and professional status. She was deliberately pulling rank and he knew it.

“Nah, Bess come here and let me show you how I handles my responsibilities,” Rakim said in the same general southern drawl she had directed him to use in the premiere performance. He then reinterpreted the original improvisation that first began their illicit affair exactly three years before on this very day. Angela is happily married yet she exercised the privilege that powerful women frequently turn to as a way to stimulate their youthfulness – a younger lover – a mastress –as Rakim described himself.

In many ways these visits were work for Rakim. He had received steady stage work in the three years since graduating from the University of Delaware’s Professional Theatre Training Program. In addition to the five productions directed by Angela in which he had played leading roles – her efforts had yielded him major roles at top regional theatres throughout the country including 12MilesWest in New Jersey, The Goodman in Chicago, Freedom Theatre in Philadelphia, Asolo in Florida and the Guthrie in Minnesota. In fact this gig at the RTF was the first theatre job in three years Rakim had gotten that was not a result of his relationship with Angela. She had never directed at the RTF but she would be recognized by a number of actors, stage managers or technicians: therefore she was on self-imposed confinement to Rakim’s bedroom for the two days she came in to celebrate their third anniversary together.

After thoroughly sharing one another during the shared shower she asked Rakim to accompany him to his traditional private flag burning ritual he annually performed on the morning of the fourth of July. She expected him to deny her request. She didn’t know that he had already invited his new homie – Zachary – an RTF lighting designer. “Z”, as Rakim reflexively began to refer to Zachary within a week of their initial meeting after the RTF orientation, was a Florida born Haitian and an amateur spoken word artist. The night before they were talking about the personal benefits – namely political cleansing – that Rakim derived from flag burning and other annual rituals he performed throughout the year - like those on “smoke-out” (to legalize marijuana) day and “coochie-eaters” day.

“Say word is bond Justice!” – Z commanded in disbelief after Rakim described his Independence day ritual.

“Word is bond.” Then seizing a philosophical moment he added: “It allows me to take advantage of my personal independence …to advance the independence of humanity. By beginning to meditate on the significance of independence early in the day - I am actually influencing the expansion of world-wide independence and justice throughout the entire day – the entire year.” Marijuana inspired these profound and complicated thoughts but it was his gift as a writer that made the ideas seem so poetic.

With no transition – American standard speech becomes urban vernacular as Rakim took the conversation straight to the gutter – “but yo, I got this bad chick waitin’ for me at the crib and I’m out chasin’ ho’s – you know I’m a nigga that is really serious and dedicated to independence in every area of my life.”

Z noticed that Juliet had been giving Rakim preferential treatment at the party and asked – “are you doing Justice to that ass” with a glance of his eyes towards Juliet who was still in the middle of the dance floor clearly performing to arouse his attention.

Rakim, master of turning phrases – “the real question is - is that ass doing Justice.”

“That’s what I’m asking” Z said after letting out a too-loud laugh both because he was no longer sober and to make it obvious to Juliet that they were talking about her. She smiled and beckoned to Rakim with her finger in front of this room full of white theatre-makers. Her long red curly hair in full effect framing a dancers figure subtly exposed by her sheer kelly green blouse and pink mini-skirt. Some of these same people now witnessing her aggressive advances - would no doubt be at the public flag burning ceremony where Justice would be spitting fiery protest poetry.

Rakim simply slowly shook his head “no” and continued talking to Z hoping Juliet would not push the issue. He wanted to do “it” to her and enjoyed talking to her but she was a liability to his political personality. In fact, his perspective on relationships in general was that they – romantic relationships with the opposite sex - were mostly a liability that inevitably compromised an artist in one way or another.

Looking at Juliet dance and shake “what her mama gave her” – he thought – she has to have some black in her. Still talking to Z – Rakim continued “Yeah this chick at my crib is an older director and she’s married. I been boning her for longer than any relationship I ever had and the skins is always…” sucking on his lower lip “ succulent. She got kids and everything - but she flew out here to be with me for two days of mo’ better. I wish I knew what I did to hook her …cuz I’d do more of it” he confessed in a short-lived moment of honesty.

Z almost forgetting that he knew someone that fit that description - involuntarily replied – “sometimes …its just like that - and you didn’t even have to do anything. It’s crazy cuz you want to try and do it at-will but you can’t.”

Recovering as the Gin and Tonics began to take effect – “Shiiiit - nigga speak for yourself – I always mac at-will.”

“My bad, I shoulda knew …a player like you don’t have that problem.” As if Z’s last statement was prophecy - Juliet purposefully walks over to Rakim grabs his hand and pulls him out the room, down the stairs and out the front door to the parking lot.

“Justice what does a lady have to do to get your affection and attention?” Juliet’s diction was so clear and her sounds were coming right out of the front of her mask. Since she was inebriated she had no sense of the proper volume and her words floated through the air filling the 100 square yard parking lot bouncing off the steel of the surrounding automobiles.

He was too afraid to speak so he stood motionless debating with himself whether he should be in this southern Utah parking lot alone with a drunk white lady. As he completed making the argument in favor of staying but before he could entertain arguments for leaving - she dragged him to the corner of the parking lot behind a commercial van pulled up her pink mini skirt revealing her nakedness and began grinding on his attentive vital organ.

Explaining to her that he had someone waiting at home for him while yielding to the weakness of their flesh – “I really must go” – hoping that she would have some decency. He knew he didn’t have any. Decency was a low priority on his list of areas in which to attempt personal growth.




Angela never expected decency from Rakim yet she was touched when he agreed to let her accompany him this morning to his private independence day ritual. He already picked out the spot in the Cedar City Mountains where he had felt the greatest connection to both the earth and the ancestral past of the land.

Juliet did not know what to make of this ritual when he had explained it to her before she fell asleep in his arms last night. Yet they had been to the location together on the first pitch-blue night walk they had shared together. She remembered the location so well because he had captured the description precisely in the poem he was inspired to write after their first walk.

It was already going on 8:40am before he came near the location where he was to perform this ritual. As Rakim ventured out to where the reddest rocks jutted out to cover the raging creek, he was looking for Z – who was less certain about the exact location. He was in such disbelief as he approached the location that he thought to himself - “I am really sprung - I think I see a vision of Juliet angelically standing there dressed all in white.” With every step his heart started to race because this was not a vision - this was actually Juliet.

“You said to wear all-white right?” she beamed as he came within ear shot of the exact location he told her about earlier that same morning; adding “you’re late.”

“I know.” With the stoicism of a monk and the steely nerves of a surgeon (or stage actor) he warmly introduced Angela to Juliet making certain to mention in front of Angela that Juliet was aware of her visit. Yet he was careful to avoid mentioning that she was a director and professor in the performance studies department at the Tisch School of Drama of NYU. The less conversation - the better he thought. This type of situation would have been awkward in the hands of a less independent person but Rakim’s defining trait of transcendence allowed for grace under pressure.

After the exchange of casual curiosities like “how long have you known Justice;” followed by distant and cryptic replies like “before he was Justice” – Rakim was ready to begin what for him was far more important than any single relationship he could ever share – specifically his direct relationship with the universal all. Before he completed setting up the alter of various flags including many from the Caribbean, Africa, Europe and of course the United States – news clippings he had saved throughout the year for this occasion - marijuana, liquor, incense, food items – just then Z slowly walked up with his mouth wide open staring at Angela as if frightened by an evil spirit.

As Angela caught his eye the same fear of evil came over her entire body. These looks in turn frightened Rakim making the butterflies in his stomach compete in a race throughout the whole of his body. Angela’s face told Rakim that Z’s look was not inspired by Juliet as he first thought - instead Z’s horror was a result of his long-time lover – Angela Anderson. He thought – “had they been lovers too?” That would not surprise or offend Rakim – he and Angela were independent in nearly every way of one another except in the memories and experiences they shared. Z’s initial utterance resolved the mystery.

“Aunt Angela?” Long silence as everyone looks at the most significant person present for him or her. “You know Justice?” Long silence as the white person turns pink on the outside and the black people turn pink on the inside. There was nothing to say yet there was plenty to listen. Together they listened to the earth – speech sounds of desert animals of all varieties – the wind song – symphony of the continually crashing creek. They listened to the independence of the universe.

Eventually as they drifted into a circle around the alter they listened to the independence of ancestral cries for eternal independence. They listened to the pounding hearts of one another as Justice set each of the flags present on fire declaring his and their independence from any single nation – thereby joining the brotherhood and sisterhood of mankind in claiming their inheritance to the independence of the universe. Holding hands around this burning alter they listened to their own cries for independence through unification. “Fire and flags – the two book ends of civilization” Rakim began his public address later that afternoon with an independence greater than any he had ever known.