Les Blancs (18 page)
Authors: Lorraine Hansberry
(
TSHEMBE
rises and drifts upstage
)
DEKOVEN
(
Gesturing around him
) They will murder us here one day—isn’t that so, Tshembe? (
TSHEMBE
turns and regards him but says nothing. Drums are heard in the distance
) All of us. And the press of the world will send a shudder through men everywhere. It will seem the crowning triumph of bestial absurdity. We pillars of man’s love for man rewarded for our pains: our very throats slit ear to ear by rampaging savages. And whole generations will be born and die without knowing any better. (
He drinks; then
) No, my friend, do not let the drums, the skins and the mumbo jumbo fool you. The sun really
is
starting to rise in the world, so we might just as well stop pretending it is the middle of the night.
They
are quite prepared to die to be allowed to bring it to Africa. It is
we
who are not prepared. To allow it
or
to die.
(
TSHEMBE
exits
)
CHARLIE
(
Looking after him
) He must have been quite a guy, his father.
DEKOVEN
(
Remembering
) “Quite a guy …”
CHARLIE
… To bring up the boy—and still maintain a relationship with the Reverend …
DEKOVEN
(
Bewildered
) The boy …?
CHARLIE
Yes. Eric. Well … he
is
his father, isn’t he? Reverend Neilsen—with Abioseh’s wife?
DEKOVEN
(
Smiles and pours himself a drink and sits. Then
) Yes … It was Abioseh’s wife. She died in childbirth: the Kwi say from shame. But, Morris, it wasn’t the Reverend … It was George Rice.
CHARLIE
Major Rice—?
DEKOVEN
(
Nods
) You see, the man really
is
part of this country. (
PETER
enters
) Peter, Tshembe was looking for you. He went up the path.
PETER
Thank you, Doctor.
(
He starts after him but halts at the screech of brakes and hysterical sirens offstage. At the same moment
TSHEMBE
reenters
)
TSHEMBE
Peter—
(
He starts towards him, but halts as
RICE
and
SOLDIERS
,
guns at the ready, appear with
ABIOSEH
)
RICE
There was a raid at M’nabe. Two hundred blacks. Reverend Neilsen was among the slaughtered.
CHARLIE
Oh my God!
(
DEKOVEN
merely closes his eyes
)
RICE
(
As
PETER
starts to leave
) Peter—(
PETER
freezes
.
TSHEMBE
’s eyes meet
ABIOSEH
’s
) I think we can all use a drink. (
PETER
goes to the bar and starts getting drinks
) We’ve brought the body back. Out of delicacy I won’t describe the nature of the mutilation but I would suggest that the ladies be protected from viewing it. (
PETER
gives
RICE
a drink
) Thank you, Peter … (
PETER
offers drinks to
CHARLIE
and
DEKOVEN
,
who refuse them
) Yes, two hundred blacks and it looks like just the beginning. They don’t stand a chance, of course. At dawn we begin a new coordinated offensive … fresh troops, helicopters, jets, the whole bloody works … (
PETER
starts to leave
) Don’t go, Peter. (
PETER
halts and
RICE
motions that he’d like another drink
) Within three weeks the mopping up will be over, I can promise you that. (
Looking up as jets rocket overhead and into the distance
) Just listen, Mr. Morris: the sound we’ve been waiting for! (
As
PETER
approaches
) No spear on earth will bring one of those down—isn’t that so, Peter?
PETER
Yes, Bwana.
RICE
(
Takes the drink
) Thank you—
Ntali …!
(
PETER
drops the tray and runs and, in split-second succession, the
SOLDIERS
and
RICE
open fire. He falls, jerks—and lies dead at
TSHEMBE
’s feet. The
SOLDIERS
turn their guns on
TSHEMBE. ABIOSEH
starts to pray
.
RICE
crosses to the body
and puts his gun away
) I am taking the liberty, Doctor, of having a new safety flare system installed. Your friend here had cut the old one—did you know
that
, DeKoven? Yes, well … my condolences to Madame. Are you coming, Abioseh? (
To
TSHEMBE
,
indicating the body with his foot
) Get rid of it.
(
He exits, followed by
ABIOSEH
and the
SOLDIERS. CHARLIE
and
DEKOVAN
look on silently as
TSHEMBE
sinks to his knees beside
PETER
)
Dimout
SCENE
6
In the darkness the roar and burst of jets explodes overhead. In the distance the muffled sounds of destruction. Then silence—and, gradually, the faint jungle sounds of dawn
.
It is the following day. A clearing in the jungle lit only by shimmering shafts of sunlight through the density of trees overhead
.
Out of the shadows steps
NGAGO—
in the uniform of the Freedom of the Land Army: green fatigues and shirt, cartridge belt, long knife at the waist, rifle in hand. Two
WARRIORS
(
one the young
WOMAN
seen in the first scene
)
similarly attired, with rifles, move swiftly to their appointed places, keep watch, and occasionally respond to his words
.
NGAGO
makes a ritualistic sign and moves with a dancer’s grace, almost hypnotically, circling the stage. He is no ordinary leader and this is no ordinary exhortation. His voice at times rises in traditional anger; more often it is almost a whisper, a hiss, a caress. He is the poet-warrior invoking the soul of his people
.)
NGAGO
(
Raising rifle hand ritualistically
) We must speak swiftly and move on. Brothers! Sisters! (
His hand sweeps the audience
) Here now are our people flying before the enemy—hunted in the land of our fathers—woman and child and grandsires of the Kwi peoples. See them and understand! See them, people! (
Gesturing directly into the audience
) This young one was making her way from the embers of her village when the soldiers caught her. Five of them! Must I tell you of the crime!? (
Gesturing again
) Rise up, old father! This old man came through the woods with his family and met the troops. (
Screaming
) HE IS WITHOUT FAMILY NOW! (
Pointing
) And look there! And there! (
He and the
WARRIORS
crouch
as a helicopter circles overhead, then fades off
) And there! They drop lakes of fire on our villages! The hummingbirds of death sit motionless in our skies to fire on us like animals! They drive us like beasts into great camps they have built for this hour! What then but to fight? WHAT THEN BUT TO DRIVE THEM OUT!? (
Softly, hypnotically: an incantation to the slowly mounting staccato of the drums
) People, pass this word in the forest until the trees
whisper
it, until the river
hums
the message: Send us your sons! Send us warriors! KILL THE INVADER! By spear and by rifle! In the night, in the morning! On the roads—in their homes—in their beds! Let us drown them in the blood they have shed for a thousand seasons—(
His voice hushes almost to a whisper, caressing the words
)—and so make Death
black
for all their generations—(
He kneels and circles his hand over the earth
)—so that in all our land no seed of them—(
He picks up a handful of dust
)—no single scent of what they were—(
Letting it sift away through his fingers
)—remains to afflict our children’s children’s children! (
Rifle in the air in classic pose joined by the
WARRIORS
) KILL THE INVADER!
Blackout
SCENE
7
Sunset. The Mission
.
The sound of the riverboat whistle is heard several times in the distance
.
ERIC
,
on the Mission steps, picks up
CHARLIE
’s
typewriter and valises, and exits over the rise, while
CHARLIE
stands for a moment taking in the scene for the last time
.
In the parlor sits
MME. NEILSEN
,
in mourning black, behind her, in shadow and candlelight, the catafalque of her husband’s coffin, arranged with Protestant austerity. Beside it stands
MARTA
who, after a moment, presses
MADAME
’s hand and turns to go—as
CHARLIE
enters. Their eyes meet; she barely nods and exits. He crosses to
MADAME
and places his hand on her shoulder; she covers it with hers. He starts after
ERIC
as across the compound comes
TSHEMBE
,
wearing tie and jacket for the visit
.
CHARLIE
(
Halting
) Matoseh—
TSHEMBE
Yes?
CHARLIE
I wanted to tell you, before I left, how sorry I am about—about everything.
TSHEMBE
(
With cool disinterest as he moves past
) Thank you.
CHARLIE
Matoseh—(
TSHEMBE
waits
) I may not see you again.
TSHEMBE
Goodbye, Mr. Morris.
(
He starts in
)
CHARLIE
I’d like to look you up in London.
TSHEMBE
(
Turning
) Still at it? I should think the past few days would have provided enough local color for your book.
CHARLIE
My book—?
TSHEMBE
You do plan to write a book about us, don’t you, Mr. Morris?
CHARLIE
No. No … a long time ago I had planned to, but …
TSHEMBE
Oh, but you must! By all means! The whole world is waiting to hear about the martyred Reverend and this temple in the wasteland that is Africa.
CHARLIE
Tshembe—
TSHEMBE
As a matter of fact, I will help you. I have a suggestion for the title—“Behind the Color Curtain: Confession of the Week.” (
Lifting his hands as if he can already see the words in print
) “The Story of a Mission: how it tried to lift the benighted black from his native sloth and indolence—and how it was rewarded.” Tell them, Mr. Morris. Tell them so that when your readers find out it is
American
planes Zatembe is flying with American bombs for our villages … they can relax with assurance that their moral obligation to humanity is being fulfilled!
CHARLIE
Are you quite finished, Matoseh?
TSHEMBE
Except for the dedication. Americans excel in dedications—“To brotherhood, to the building of bridges!” Now go, sir, write your book! The whole damned world is waiting!
(
He starts in
)
CHARLIE
Thank you. Thank you, I will try—
Bwana!
TSHEMBE
(
Turns
) What the hell is that supposed to mean?
CHARLIE
It means get off my back, you hypocrite! What makes you so holy? Listen, a week ago—(
The sound of a helicopter is heard approaching overhead
)—you gave me a song and dance about the white intellectual “plumbing” your depths. Well, stop presuming on mine! Stop writing my book. Stop telling me which side to come out on because it’s so much easier to fill your eyes with me than to look at yourself. Where are you running, man? Back to Europe? To watch the action on your telly? (
A beat. An appeal
) Tshembe, we do what we can. We’re on the same side. (
TSHEMBE
pointedly looks up and smiles ironically at the chopper, which is now directly overhead
.
CHARLIE
shouts over the din
)
I
didn’t put those things up there! I’m me—Charlie Morris—not “the White Man”!
TSHEMBE
(
Cupping his ear
) I’m sorry, Mr. Morris, I cannot
hear
you …
CHARLIE
(
As the chopper recedes somewhat
) Then try, Matoseh. Because I’ve heard you.
(
A beat
.
CHARLIE
holds out his hand
.
TSHEMBE
studies him and, at last, takes it. Then: as the chopper circles back again, the African lifts their clasped hands towards the sky
)
TSHEMBE
What does it prove, Charlie? What will it solve?
(
Abruptly letting go, he turns and crosses into the Mission. Behind him the American stands alone confronting the chopper’s roar before he slowly turns and exits
)
SCENE 8
Immediately following
.
MADAME
sits in the parlor as before;
TSHEMBE
sits cross-legged at her feet, his head resting back gently against her
.