Blood Knot and Other Plays. Athol Fugard

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СКАЧАТЬ [snatching the photograph out of Zachariah’s hand and taking it to the window where he has a good look]. Zach, let me have another look at her.

      ZACHARIAH. Hey! What’s the matter with you! It’s my pen-pal, isn’t it? It is!

      MORRIS. Keep quiet, Zach!

      ZACHARIAH. What’s this ‘keep quiet’?

      [Morris throws the photograph down on the bed and finds the letter, which he reads feverishly. Zachariah picks up the photograph and continues his study.]

      ZACHARIAH. You’re acting like you never seen a woman in your life. Why don’t you get a pen-pal? Maybe one’s not enough.

      MORRIS [having finished the letter, his agitation is now even more pronounced]. That newspaper, Zach. Where is that newspaper?

      ZACHARIAH. How should I know?

      MORRIS [anguished]. Think, man!

      ZACHARIAH. You had it. [Morris is scratching around frantically.] What’s the matter with you tonight? Maybe you threw it away.

      MORRIS. No. I was keeping it in case . . . [Finds it.] Thank God! Oh, please, God, now make it that I am wrong!

      [He takes a look at the newspaper, pages through it, and then drops it. He stands quite still, unnaturally calm after the frenzy of the previous few seconds.]

      You know what you done, don’t you?

      ZACHARIAH. Me?

      MORRIS. Who was it, then? Me?

      ZACHARIAH. But what?

      MORRIS. Who wanted woman?

      ZACHARIAH. Oh. Me.

      MORRIS. Right. Who’s been carrying on about Minnie, and Connie, and good times? Not me.

      ZACHARIAH. Morrie! What are you talking about?

      MORRIS. That photograph.

      ZACHARIAH. I’ve seen it.

      MORRIS. Have another look.

      ZACHARIAH [he does]. It’s Ethel.

      MORRIS. Miss Ethel Lange to you!

      ZACHARIAH. Okay, I looked. Now what!

      MORRIS. Can’t you see, man! Ethel Lange is a white woman!

      [Pause. They look at each other in silence.]

      ZACHARIAH [slowly]. You mean that this Ethel . . . here . . .

      MORRIS. Is a white woman!

      ZACHARIAH. How do you know?

      MORRIS. Oh for God’s sake, Zach—use your eyes. Anyway, that paper you bought was white. There’s no news about our sort.

      ZACHARIAH [studying the photo]. Hey—you’re right, Morrie. [Delighted.] You’re damn well right. And this white woman has written to me, a hot-not, a swartgat. This white woman thinks I’m a white man. That I like!

      [Zachariah bursts into laughter. Morris jumps forward and snatches the photograph out of his hand.]

      Hey! What are you going to do?

      MORRIS. What do you think?

      ZACHARIAH. Read it.

      MORRIS. I’m going to burn it.

      ZACHARIAH. No!

      MORRIS. Yes.

      ZACHARIAH [jumps up and comes to grips with Morris who, after a short struggle, is thrown violently to the floor. Zachariah picks up the letter and the photograph. He stands looking down at Morris for a few seconds, amazed at what he has done]. No, Morrie. You’re not going to burn it, Morrie.

      MORRIS [vehemently]. Yes, burn the bloody thing! Destroy it!

      ZACHARIAH. But it’s my pen-pal, Morris. Now, isn’t it? Doesn’t it say here: ‘Mr Zachariah Pietersen’? Well, that’s me . . . isn’t it? It is. My letter. You just don’t go and burn another man’s letter, Morrie.

      MORRIS. But it’s an error, Zach! Can’t you see? The whole thing is an error.

      ZACHARIAH. Read the letter, man. I don’t know.

      [The alarm-clock rings.]

      MORRIS. Supper time.

      ZACHARIAH. Later.

      MORRIS. Listen—

      ZACHARIAH. Letter first.

      MORRIS. Then can I burn it?

      ZACHARIAH. Read the letter first, man. Let’s hear it, what it says. [Handing Morris the letter.] No funny business, hey!

      MORRIS [reading]. ‘Dear Zach, many thanks for your letter You asked me for a snap, so I’m sending you it. Do you like it? That’s my brother’s foot sticking in the picture behind the bench on the side—’

      ZACHARIAH. Hey! She’s right! Here it is.

      MORRIS. ‘Cornelius is a . . . policeman.’ [Pause.] ‘He’s got a motor-bike, and I been with him to the dam, on the back. My best friend is Lucy van Tonder. Both of us hates Oudtshoorn, man. How is Port Elizabeth? There’s only two movies here, so we don’t know what to do on the other nights. That’s why I want pen-pals. How about a picture of you? You got a car? All for now. Cheerio. Ethel. P.S. Please write soon.’

      (Morris folds the letter.]

      ZACHARIAH [gratefully]. Oh—thank you, Morrie.

      [Holds out his hand for the letter.]

      MORRIS. Can I burn it now, Zach?

      ZACHARIAH. Burn it! It’s an all right letter, man. A little bit of this and a little bit of that.

      MORRIS. Like her brother being a policeman.

      ZACHARIAH [ignoring the last remark]. Hey—supper ready yet, man? Let’s talk after supper, man. I’m hungry. What you got for supper, Morrie?

      MORRIS. Boiled eggs and chips.

      ZACHARIAH. Hey, that’s wonderful, Morrie. Hey! We never had that before.

      MORRIS [sulking]. It was meant to be a surprise.

      ZACHARIAH. But that’s wonderful.

      [Zachariah is full of vigour and life.]

      No, I mean it, Morrie. Cross my heart, and hope to die. Boiled eggs and chips! Boiled eggs and chips . . . Boiled eggs СКАЧАТЬ