Blood Knot and Other Plays. Athol Fugard

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      ZACHARIAH. Ja.

      MORRIS. [Pause. Morris makes the sandwiches.] Has it helped, Zach?

      ZACHARIAH. What?

      MORRIS. The talking.

      ZACHARIAH. Helped what?

      MORRIS. About . . . woman.

      ZACHARIAH. It’s still there, Morrie. You said you was going to think about it and me.

      MORRIS. I’m still busy, Zach. It takes time. Shall I talk some more?

      ZACHARIAH. Let me!

      [He speaks eagerly. The first sign of life since the outburst.]

      Let me talk about . . . woman.

      MORRIS. You think it wise?

      ZACHARIAH. You said it helps. I want to help.

      MORRIS. GO on.

      ZACHARIAH. YOU know what I was remembering, Morrie? As I sat there?

      MORRIS. No.

      ZACHARIAH. Guess.

      MORRIS. I can’t.

      ZACHARIAH. [Soft, nostalgic smile.] The first one. My very first one. You was already gone. It was in those years. [Sigh.] Her name was Connie.

      MORRIS. That’s a lovely name, Zach.

      ZACHARIAH. Connie Ferreira.

      MORRIS. You were happy, hey?

      ZACHARIAH. Ja.

      MORRIS. Don’t be shy. Tell me more.

      ZACHARIAH. We were young. Her mother did the washing. Connie used to buy blue soap from the Chinaman on the corner.

      MORRIS. Your sweetheart, hey!

      ZACHARIAH. I waited for her.

      MORRIS. Was it true love?

      ZACHARIAH. She called me a black hotnot, the bitch, so I waited for her. She had tits like fruits and I was waiting in the bushes.

      MORRIS [absolute loss of interest]. Yes, Zach.

      ZACHARIAH. She was coming along alone. Hell! Don’t I remember Connie now! Coming along alone she was and I was waiting in the bushes. [Laugh.] She got a fright, she did. She tried to fight, to bite . . .

      MORRIS. All right, Zach!

      ZACHARIAH. She might have screamed, but when I had her . . .

      MORRIS. All right, Zach! [Pause.]

      ZACHARIAH. That was Connie. [He broods.]

      MORRIS. Feeling better?

      ZACHARIAH. A little.

      MORRIS. Talking helps, doesn’t it? I said so. You find the answers to things.

      ZACHARIAH. Talking to one would help me even more.

      MORRIS. [Pause.] You mean to a woman?

      ZACHARIAH. I’m telling you, Morrie, I really mean it, man. With all my heart.

      MORRIS [the idea is coming]. There’s a thought there, Zach.

      ZACHARIAH. There is?

      MORRIS. In fact I think I’ve got it.

      ZACHARIAH. What?

      MORRIS. The answer to your problem.

      ZACHARIAH. Woman?

      MORRIS. That’s it! You said talking to one would help you, didn’t you? So what about writing? Just as good, isn’t it, if she writes back?

      ZACHARIAH. Who . . . who you talking about?

      MORRIS. A pen-pal. Zach! A corresponding pen-pal of the opposite sex! Don’t you know them? [Zachariah’s face is blank.] It’s a woman, you see! [Looking for newspaper.] She wants a man friend, but she’s in another town, so she writes to him—to you!

      ZACHARIAH. No, I don’t know her.

      MORRIS. You will. You’re her pen-pal!

      ZACHARIAH. I don’t write letters.

      MORRIS. I will write them for you.

      ZACHARIAH. Then it’s your pen-pal.

      MORRIS. NO, Zach. You tell me what to say. You see, she writes to you. She doesn’t even know about me. Can’t you see it, man? A letter to Mr Zachariah Pietersen—from her.

      ZACHARIAH. I don’t read letters.

      MORRIS. I’ll read them to you.

      ZACHARIAH. From a woman.

      MORRIS. From a woman. You can take your pick.

      ZACHARIAH [now really interested]. Hey!

      MORRIS. There’s so many.

      ZACHARIAH. Is that so!

      MORRIS. Big ones, small ones.

      ZACHARIAH. What do you know about that!

      MORRIS. Young ones, old ones.

      ZACHARIAH. No. Not the old ones, Morrie. [Excited.] The young ones, on the small side.

      MORRIS. Just take your pick.

      ZACHARIAH. Okay. I will.

      MORRIS. Now listen, Zach. When you get your pay tomorrow, go to a shop and ask for a newspaper with pen-pals.

      ZACHARIAH. With pen-pals.

      MORRIS. That’s it. We’ll study them and you can make your pick.

      ZACHARIAH. And I can say what I like? Hey! What do you know! Pen-pals!

      [The alarm-clock rings.]

      Pen-pals!

      [Zachariah flops back on his bed laughing. Morris drifts to the window.]

      MORRIS. Wind’s coming up. You sleepy?

      ZACHARIAH. It’s been a long day.

      MORRIS. Okay, I’ll cut it short. Your turn to choose the reading tonight, Zach.

      [Morris fetches the Bible from the shelf over his bed. He hands it to Zachariah who, with СКАЧАТЬ