Читать книгу Blood Knot and Other Plays - Athol Fugard - Страница 10
ОглавлениеSCENE TWO
The next evening.
Zachariah sits disconsolately on the bed, his feet in the basin. Morris is studying a newspaper.
MORRIS. Well, Zach, you ready? There’s three women here. The young ladies Ethel Lange, Nellie de Wet, and Betty Jones.
ZACHARIAH. So what do we do?
MORRIS. I’ll get the ball rolling with this thought. They are all pretty good names. Ethel, Nellie, and Betty. Good, simple, decent, common names. About equal, I’d say.
ZACHARIAH [hopefully]. There’s no Connie there, is there Morrie?
MORRIS. No. Now, before you decide, let me tell you about them.
ZACHARIAH. What do you know about them?
MORRIS. It’s written down here. That’s why you bought the paper. Listen . . . [Reads.] ‘Ethel Lange, 10 de Villiers Street, Oudtshoorn. I am eighteen years old and well-developed and would like to correspond with a gent of sober habits and a good outlook on life. My interests are nature, rock-and-roll, swimming, and a happy future. My motto is, “Rolling stones gather no moss.” Please note: I promise to reply faithfully.’ How’s that?
ZACHARIAH. Well-developed.
MORRIS. She gives you a clear picture, hey! Here’s the next one. [Reads.] ‘Nellie de Wet’ . . . she’s in Bloemfontein . . . ‘Twenty-two and no strings attached. Would like letters from men of the same age or older. My interests are beauty contests and going out. A snap with the first letter, please.’ [Pause.] That’s all there is to her. I think I preferred Ethel.
ZACHARIAH. Ja. And what do I know how old I am?
MORRIS. Exactly, Zach! ‘The same age or older?’ Where does she think she comes from?
ZACHARIAH. Bloemfontein.
MORRIS. Yes. Last one. [Reads.] ‘Betty Jones. Roodepoort.
Young and pleasing personality. I’d like to correspond with gentlemen friends of maturity. No teenagers need reply. My hobby at the moment is historical films, but I’m prepared to go back to last year’s, which was autograph hunting. I would appreciate a photograph.’ That one’s got a education. Anyway . . . it’s up to you. Ethel, Nellie, or Betty?
ZACHARIAH [after thinking about it]. Hey, hey, Morrie! Let’s take all three.
MORRIS. No, Zach.
ZACHARIAH. Ag, come on, man.
MORRIS. You don’t understand.
ZACHARIAH. Just once, just for sports.
MORRIS. I don’t think they’d allow that.
ZACHARIAH. Oh.
MORRIS. No, they wouldn’t.
[Pause, emphatic.]
Listen, Zach, you must take this serious.
ZACHARIAH. Okay.
MORRIS [losing patience]. Well, it’s no good saying ‘Okay’ like that!
ZACHARIAH. Okay!
MORRIS. What’s the use, Zach? You ask me to help you, and when I do, you’re not interested no more. What’s the matter, man?
ZACHARIAH. I can’t get hot about a name on a piece of paper. It’s not real to me.
MORRIS [outraged]. Not real! [Reads.] ‘I am eighteen years old and well-developed’ . . . eighteen years old and well-developed! If I called that Connie it would be real enough, wouldn’t it?
ZACHARIAH [his face lighting up]. Ja!
MORRIS. So the only difference is a name. This is Ethel and not Connie . . . which makes no difference to being eighteen years old and well-developed! Think, man!
ZACHARIAH. [Without hesitation.] Look, Morrie, I’ll take her.
MORRIS. That’s better. So it’s going to be Miss Ethel Lange from Oudtshoorn, who would like to correspond with a gent of sober habits and a good outlook on life. [Putting down the paper.] Yes, she’s the one for you all right. And I know what we do. How about asking Ethel to take a snapshot of herself? So we can see what her outlook is. Then—just think of it—you can see her, hear from her, write to her, correspond with her, post your letter off to her . . . Hell, man! What more do you want! [Zachariah smiles.] No! That’s something else. This is pen-pals, and you got yourself Ethel in Oudtshoorn.
[Morris moves to the table where he sorts out a piece of writing-paper, a pencil, and an envelope.]
I’ve got everything ready. One day I must show you how. Maybe have a go at a letter yourself. Address in the top right-hand corner. Mr Zachariah Pietersen, Korsten, P. O. Port Elizabeth. Okay, now take aim and fire away. [He waits for Zachariah.] Well?
ZACHARIAH. What?
MORRIS. Speak to Ethel.
ZACHARIAH [shy]. Go jump in a lake, man.
MORRIS. No, listen, Zach. I’m sitting here ready to write. You must speak up.
ZACHARIAH. What?
MORRIS. To begin with, address her.
ZACHARIAH. What?
MORRIS. Address her.
ZACHARIAH. Oudtshoorn.
MORRIS. No, no, Zach. Look, imagine there was a woman, and you want to say something to her, what would you say? Go on.
ZACHARIAH. Hey! Cookie . . . or . . . Bokkie . . .
MORRIS [quickly]. Okay, Zach . . . You’re getting hot, but that is what we call a personal address, you only use it later. This time you say: ‘Dear Ethel’.
ZACHARIAH. Just like that?
MORRIS. You get her on friendly terms. Now comes the introduction. [Writes.] ‘With reply to your advert for a pen-pal, I hereby write.’ [Holds up the writing paper.] Now tell her who you are and where you are.
ZACHARIAH. How?
MORRIS. I am . . . and so on.
ZACHARIAH. I am Zach and I . . .
MORRIS. . . . ariah Pietersen . . .
ZACHARIAH. And I am at Korsten.
MORRIS. ‘As you will see from the above.’
ZACHARIAH. What’s that?
MORRIS. Something you must always add in letters, Zach. [Newspaper.] Now she says here: ‘My interests are nature, rock-and-roll, swimming, and a happy future.’ Well, what do you say to that?
ZACHARIAH. Shit! [Pause, frozen stare from Morris.] Oh, sorry, Morrie, sorry. ‘Nature and a happy future.’ Ja. Well, good luck! Good luck, Ethel. How’s that?
MORRIS. Not bad. A little short, though. How about: I notice your plans, and wish you good luck with them.
ZACHARIAH. Sure, sure. Put that there.
MORRIS [writes, then returns to the newspaper]. ‘. . . plans, and wish you good luck with them.’ Okay, next—‘My motto is: “Rolling stones gather no moss”.’ [Pause.] That’s tricky.
ZACHARIAH. Ja, I can see that.
MORRIS. What does she mean?
ZACHARIAH. I wonder.
MORRIS. Wait! I think I’ve got it. How about: ‘Too many cooks spoil the broth’? That’s my favourite.
ZACHARIAH. Why not? Why not, I ask?
MORRIS. Then it’s agreed. [Writes.] ‘Experience has taught me to make my motto: “Too many cooks spoil the broth”.’ Now let’s get a little bit general, Zach.
ZACHARIAH [yawning]. Just as you say.
MORRIS [after a pause]. Well, it’s your letter.
ZACHARIAH. Just a little bit general. Not too much, hey?
MORRIS [not fooled by the feigned interest. Pause]. I can make a suggestion.
ZACHARIAH. That’s fine. Put that down there, too.
MORRIS. No, Zach. Here it is. How about: ‘I have a brother who has seen Oudtshoorn twice.’
ZACHARIAH. You.
MORRIS. Yes.
ZACHARIAH. Maybe.
MORRIS. You mean you don’t like it?
ZACHARIAH. Tell you what. Put down there: ‘I’d like to see Oudtshoorn. I’ve heard about it from . . . someone. I’d like to see you, too. Send me a photo.’
MORRIS. ‘. . . please’. . . I’m near the bottom now.
ZACHARIAH. That’s all.
MORRIS. ‘Please write soon. Yours . . .’
ZACHARIAH. Hers?
MORRIS. ‘. . . faithfully. Zachariah Pietersen.’
[Zachariah prepares for bed. Morris addresses and seals the envelope.]
I’ll get this off tomorrow. Now remember, this is your letter, and what comes back is going to be your reply.
ZACHARIAH. And yours?
MORRIS. Mine?
ZACHARIAH. There’s still Nellie or Betty. Plenty of big words there, as I remember.
MORRIS. One’s enough, Zach. [Alarm-clock rings.] Bed time. [Takes down his Bible.] My turn to choose the reading tonight, Zach. [Chooses a passage.] Matthew. I like Matthew. [Reads.] ‘And Asa begat Josaphat, and Josaphat begat Joram, and Joram begat Ozias; and Ozias begat Joatham, and Joatham begat Achaz, and Achaz begat Ezekias; and Ezekias begat Manassas, and Manassas begat Amon, and Amon begat . . .’ [Pause.] That must have been a family. [Puts away the Bible and prepares his own bed.] Why you looking at me like that, Zach?
ZACHARIAH. I’m thinking.
MORRIS. Out with it. Let’s hear!
ZACHARIAH. You ever had a woman, Morris?
[Morris looks at Zachariah blankly, then pretends he hasn’t heard.]
MORRIS. What do you mean?
ZACHARIAH. Come on, you know what I mean.
MORRIS. Why?
ZACHARIAH. Have—you—ever—had—woman? Why have I never thought of that before? You been here a long time now, and never once did you go out, or speak to me about woman. Not like Minnie. Anything the matter with you?
MORRIS. Not like Minnie! What’s that mean? Not like Minnie! Maybe it’s not nice to be like Minnie. Or maybe I just don’t want to be like Minnie! Ever thought about that? That there might be another way, a different way? Listen. You think I don’t know there’s women in this world, that I haven’t got two legs and trousers too? That I haven’t longed for beauty? Well, I do. But that’s not what you’re talking about, is it? That’s not what Minnie means, hey! That’s two bloody donkeys on a road full of stones and Connie crying in the bushes. Well, you’re right about that, Zach. I am not interested. I touched something else once, with my life and these hands . . . just touched it and felt warmth and softness and wanted it like I’ve never wanted anything in my whole life. Ask me why I didn’t take it when I touched it. That’s the question. Do you want to know why, Zach? Do you? Zach? [Pause, then softly.] Zachariah?
[Zachariah is asleep. Morris covers him with a blanket.]