Les Blancs (14 page)

TSHEMBE
(
Pulling an African robe from the box
) Our father wore this the last time he went to the Mission. He never wore it again. (A
beat. He holds up the mirror
) Eric, did our father take to staring at his image in his old age?

ERIC
It’s mine.

(
He reaches for it, but
TSHEMBE
holds it back
)

TSHEMBE
A gift?

(
ERIC
ignores the question and pulls out an old, worn blanket
)

ERIC
The blanket Madame gave you, Tshembe. Remember how we used to sit by the fire and talk … you and me and Abioseh. When the fire went out you’d wrap me in it and I’d fall asleep. Remember, Tshembe?

TSHEMBE
I remember, Eric.

(
TSHEMBE
is leafing through a battered Bible
)

ERIC
And the Bible the Reverend gave you!

TSHEMBE
It started Abioseh huffing and puffing his way to heaven. Have you studied it, Eric? All those “thou shalt nots”?

ERIC
Sometimes. The names are strange.

TSHEMBE
What names?

ERIC
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob.

TSHEMBE
Strange names for Kwi warriors.

ERIC
 … Eric.

TSHEMBE
(
Picking up the mirror again and turning it about
) “Made in Holland.” Also from Dr. DeKoven?

ERIC
Willy.

TSHEMBE
Willy! (
Grabs
ERIC
’s bag and angrily empties it
) … A woman’s cosmetics! So, Eric, if you cannot quite be a white man you have decided to become a white woman? (
Cruelly knocking the pith helmet from the boy’s head
) And toys like this! What else does he give you to make you his playtime little white hunter?

ERIC
He is kind. No one else is kind. You and Abioseh were gone.

TSHEMBE
Our father—was he gone too?

ERIC
He was not
my
father!

TSHEMBE
(
Tenderly. Reaching out to embrace him
) Oh Eric, Eric … what does it matter … (
ERIC
turns away, rigid
) We will be leaving here soon. Do you hear me, Eric? Look at me. I am taking you back with me. Would you like that, Eric? My son needs an uncle. Eric, listen to me—

(
CHARLIE MORRIS
enters and
ERIC
runs off
)

CHARLIE
May I come in?

TSHEMBE
It’s not a good idea.

CHARLIE
(
Coming on in
) Well, I’ll just pretend that it is. I’ve never been in—

TSHEMBE
—“a native hut before.” Did you bring your camera? Would you like me to pose making a basket?

CHARLIE
One of these days, Matoseh, it’ll finally come to you that I’m not intimidated by the Great White Father bit. (
He produces a
bottle
) I brought some of the Reverend’s whiskey. Is it too early for you?

TSHEMBE
How can it be too early?

(
He holds out his hand
)

CHARLIE
(
Gives him the bottle
) Exactly my sentiments. Tell me, Matoseh. Why
are
you so hostile?

TSHEMBE
The world is hostile, isn’t it? (
He drinks
)

CHARLIE
What are your plans? (
TSHEMBE
raises a quizzical eyebrow
) For your life.

TSHEMBE
(
Abruptly holding up some African fabrics
) It is my expectation to go into the textile business! I’ll be taking some samples back to Europe.

CHARLIE
Ah, a capitalist to the marrow.

TSHEMBE
Incipient, but to the marrow, yes. You seem surprised.

CHARLIE
Well, I’ll admit it lacks the romance of revolution.

TSHEMBE
Does it? In fact, I think Reverend Neilsen and I shall get out a line of resort wear! (
Draping a swatch like a couturier
) “Missionary Chic!” What’s your feeling—midi, mini, or wraparound?

CHARLIE
Décolletage. You know, Matoseh—

(
TSHEMBE
is seized by sudden inspiration and begins, methodically and with great flair through what follows, to lay out swatches of fabric on the floor in a circle about him, each time turning his back on
CHARLIE
or forcing him away as the barrier forms between them. At the moment
CHARLIE
ignores it
) I’ve been thinking about the other night.

TSHEMBE
So have I, Mr. Morris. (
Lays a swatch
)

CHARLIE
You know, the truth is you and I share about the same opinion of Major Rice—

TSHEMBE
Do we. (
Lays another
)

CHARLIE
But he did say one thing that seemed to make sense—that a man of your background could make a difference to your people.

TSHEMBE
The Major is too kind. (
Lays another
)

CHARLIE
 … if you chose to.

TSHEMBE
(
Samples in hand
) Oh, but I have—I shall be the first Minister-in-Exile of
Cloth!

CHARLIE
(
Annoyed
) Very funny. Look, you’ve hardly an ordinary man in these parts. You’ve worked with Kumalo. The man of peace. Why don’t you speak out?

TSHEMBE
About what, dear man?

CHARLIE
Why the terror, of course. (
TSHEMBE
looks at him blankly
) Against the terror.

TSHEMBE
(
Nodding
)
Which
terror, Mr. Morris?! … Ah, this will make a beautiful stole for some lovely back, don’t you think?

CHARLIE
Oh, come on, man—No matter
what
the provocations against your people you know damn well you can’t expect the settlers to talk while fanatics go on butchering babies! I don’t like it any more than you do, but in the world out there one white life taken counts for more than the death of blacks by the hundreds!

TSHEMBE
(
Quietly
) Thousands, Mr. Morris. (
Lays swatch
)

CHARLIE
(
Advancing on him
) Then, for God’s sake, why don’t you use your influence? And Kumalo—if
he
were to denounce the terror—

TSHEMBE
Mr. Morris, if you don’t mind I have a business to build! (
Holding a swatch up
) Casual wear or lounging? For the beach or boudoir?

CHARLIE
I’d say bordello! Answer me—
Why the hell not?

TSHEMBE
Because the moment Kumalo did that his bargaining power would vanish.

CHARLIE
Would it? I should think that the man’s moral stature—

TSHEMBE
I do not recall that the Europeans have ever been exactly overwhelmed by morality—black
or
white! Or do you think they
have suddenly become impressed because Kumalo is
saying
the black man wishes freedom? We have been saying
that
for generations. They only listen now because they are forced to. Take away the violence and who will hear the man of peace? (
He sits on the box, an island in a sea of cloth
) It is the way of the world, hadn’t you noticed?

CHARLIE
(
Looking wistfully off
) I am thinking of a time when revolutionaries tended to be made out of idealism, not cynicism …

TSHEMBE
Maybe that’s what’s botched up all the revolutions so far! (
Erupting in spite of himself
) Mr. Morris, your concern for nonviolence is a little late, don’t you think? Where were you when we protested
without
violence and
against
violence? We did not hear from you then! Where were you when they were chopping off the right hands of our young men by the hundreds—by the tribe?

CHARLIE
I was just entering kindergarten, as I recall it …

TSHEMBE
(
With contempt
) Yes. I know. In Twin Forks Junction!

CHARLIE
(
Shaking his head
) You really can’t get rid of it, can you? The bitterness. No matter how you try, we’ve done it to you:
you do hate white men!

TSHEMBE
(
Gazing at him with open disgust
) Mr. Morris, have it your way! No matter what delusions of individuality infect
my
mind, to
you
I am not an individual but a tide, a flood, a monolith: “The
Bla-a-acks!”

CHARLIE
Nonsense! To me you are no more “the Blacks” than I am “the Whites”—(
In his excitement
CHARLIE
steps on a swatch and
TSHEMBE
,
flicking his wrist, motions him back
) That is, I can’t speak for you—but
I
am myself.

TSHEMBE
And
that
of course is nonsense!
You
are a tide, a flood—a tide, yes, I like that, a receding tide.

CHARLIE
And you, the oncoming tide—? (
TSHEMBE
nods, smiling
) There, you see! You are obsessed with it! And not just race either—vengeance!

TSHEMBE
(
Swiftly, to end it
) It is not I but you who are obsessed. Race—racism—is a device. No more. No less. It explains nothing at all.

CHARLIE
Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?

TSHEMBE
(
Closing his eyes, wearily
) I said racism is a device that, of itself, explains nothing. It is simply a means. An invention to justify the rule of some men over others.

CHARLIE
(
Pleased to have at last found common ground
) But I agree with you entirely! Race hasn’t a thing to do with it actually.

TSHEMBE
Ah—but it
has!

CHARLIE
(
Throwing up his hands
) Oh, come on, Matoseh. Stop playing games! Which is it, my friend?

TSHEMBE
I am not playing games. (
He sighs and now, drawn out of himself at last, proceeds with the maximum precision and clarity he can muster
) I am simply saying that a device
is a
device, but that it also has consequences: once invented it takes on a life, a reality of its own. So, in one century, men invoke the device of religion to cloak their conquests. In another, race. Now, in both cases you and I may recognize the fraudulence of the device, but the fact remains that a man who has a sword run through him because he refuses to become a Moslem or a Christian—or who is shot in Zatembe or Mississippi because he is black—is suffering the utter
reality
of the device. And it is pointless to pretend that it doesn’t
exist
—merely because it is a
lie!

CHARLIE
(
Deeply affected
) You know something, Matoseh? I don’t think I’ll ever understand you: on the one hand you go completely beyond race, on the other you wrap yourself in it! (
He is circling the perimeters of the cloth. Now he starts in towards
TSHEMBE
,
thinks better of it, folds back a passageway and goes up to him
) Now if only you could drop the devices
yourself
you might find out we’re on the same side—(
TSHEMBE
throws him a look and abruptly turns away and snatches up the fabrics furiously
) For Christ’s sake, man, we want the same things! We’re both searching! Only, I respect your anguish. Now, if you could just try to respect mine—

TSHEMBE
(
Whirling on him
)
“Respect,”
Mr. Morris? What is there to conceivably respect about the fact that your so-called “anguish” has brought you thousands of miles across rivers, mountains, whole oceans, to rapturize a dirty, smelly little hospital which, presumably, must distribute one new germ for every old one it almost accidentally exterminates!

CHARLIE
Now, just a minute, Matoseh—

TSHEMBE
(
Riding over him
)
“Respect”?!
Those are vile and expensive vanities. In your own country you would not be paying tribute to this place, you would be campaigning to get it closed!

CHARLIE
(
White heat
) The fact of the matter is that it is better than nothing and that is what you had before:
Nothing!

TSHEMBE
And even if that were true—billions and billions of dollars, pounds, francs, marks, have long since paid for all the hospitals—

CHARLIE
And you really think Marta Gotterling came here for gold—? Or was it cobalt! (
Advancing on him. The two stand jaw-to-jaw
) I’d like you to answer that, Matoseh. Do you?

TSHEMBE
(
Smiling easily
) Of course not. She came to find fulfillment. Just as you came for salvation, and I to find—
cloth!
Here’s hoping each of us finds what he is seeking. At Africa’s expense, as always! (
He drinks
) Now take your stolen liquor and go, please. This conversation will never get any further.

(
Kneeling, he turns his hack to
CHARLIE
and his full attention to the box of odds and ends
)

CHARLIE
(
Not moving
) It has to.

TSHEMBE
For whose sake …?

CHARLIE
For both our sakes.