Authors: Lorraine Hansberry
Les Blancs (25 page)
These people are slaves. They did not come here willingly. Their ancestors were captured, for the most part, on the West Coast of Africa by men who made such enterprise their business.
We come in for extreme close-ups of the faces of the people as he talks, moving from men to women to children with lingering intimacy
.
Few of them could speak to each other. They came from many different peoples and cultures. The slavers were careful about that. Insurrection is very difficult when you cannot even speak to your fellow prisoner.
All of them did not survive the voyage. Some simply died of suffocation; others of disease and still others of suicide. Others were murdered when they mutinied. And when the trade was
finally suppressed—sometimes they were just dumped overboard when a British Man-o’-War got after a slave ship. To destroy the evidence.
That trade went on for three centuries. How many were stolen from their homeland? Some scholars say fifteen million. Others fifty million. No one will ever really know.
In any case, today some planters will tell you with pride that the cost of maintaining one of these human beings need not exceed seven dollars and fifty cents—a year. You see, among other things there is no education to pay for—in fact, some of the harshest laws in the slave code are designed to keep the slave from being educated. The penalties are maiming or mutilation—or death. Usually for he who is taught; but very often also for he who might dare to teach—including white men.
There are of course no minimum work hours and no guaranteed minimum wages. No trade unions. And, above all, no wages at all.
As he talks a murmur of low conversation begins among the people and there is a more conspicuous stir of life among them as the narrator now prepares, picking up his tunic and putting it across his shoulder once again, to walk out of the scene
.
Please do not forget that this is the nineteenth century. It is a time when we still allow little children—white children—to labor twelve and thirteen hours in the factories and mines of America. We do not yet believe that women are equal citizens who should have the right to vote. It is a time when we still punish the insane for their madness. It is a time, therefore, when some men can believe and proclaim to the world that this system is the—(
Enunciating carefully but without passion
)
—highest form of civilization in the world
.
He turns away from us and faces the now-living scene in the background
.
This
system:
The CAMERA immediately comes in to exclude him and down to a close-up of a large skillet suspended over the roaring fire which now crackles with live sound. Pieces of bacon and corn pone sizzle on it. A meager portion of both is lifted up and onto a plate by Rissa, the cook. She is a woman of late years with an expression of indifference that has already passed resignation. The
slave receiving his ration from her casts a slightly hopeful glance at the balance but is waved away by the cook. He gives up easily and moves away and retires and eats his food with relish. A second and a third are similarly served
.
The fourth person in line is a young girl of about nineteen. She is
SARAH
.
She holds out her plate for service but bends as she does so, in spite of her own weariness, to play with a small boy of about seven or eight
,
JOSHUA
,
who has been lingering about the cook, clutching at her skirts and getting as much in her way as he can manage
.
SARAH
Hello, there, Joshua!
JOSHUA
I got a stomick ache.
RISSA
(
Busy with her serving
) You ain’t got nothing but the devil ache.
SARAH
(
To the child, with mock and heavily applied sympathy
) Awww, poor little thing! Show Sarah
*
where it hurt you, honey.
He points his finger to a random place on his abdomen; clearly delighted to have even insincere attention
.
Here?
She pokes him—ostensibly to determine the place where the pain is, but in reality only to make him laugh, which they both seem to know
.
Or here? Oh, I know—right here!
She pokes him very hard with one finger, and he collapses in her arms in a fit of giggling
.
RISSA
If y’all don’t quit that foolin’ ’round behind me while I got all this here to do—you better!
She swings vaguely behind her with the spatula
.
Stop it, I say now! Sarah, you worse than he is.
SARAH
(
A little surreptitiously—to Joshua
) Where’s your Uncle Hannibal?
The child shrugs indifferently
.
RISSA
(
Who overhears everything that is ever spoken on the plantation
) Uh-hunh. I knew we’d get ’round to Mr. Hannibal soon enough.
SARAH
(
To Rissa
) Do you know where he is?
RISSA
How I know where that wild boy of mine is? If he ain’t got sense enough to come for his supper, it ain’t no care of mine. He’s grown now. Move on out the way now. Step up here, Ben!
SARAH
(
Moving around to the other side and standing close
) He was out the fields again this afternoon, Aunt Rissa.
RISSA
(
Softly, suddenly—but without breaking her working rhythm or changing facial expression
) Coffin know?
SARAH
Coffin know everything. Say he goin’ to tell Marster Sweet first thing in the mornin’.
RISSA
(
Decision
) See if you can find that boy of mine, child.
SARAH
pushes the last of her food in her mouth and starts off
.
RISSA
halts her and hands her a small bundle which has been lying in readiness
.
His supper.
CUT TO:
EXTERIOR. MOONLIT WOODS
.
Sarah emerges from the woods into a tiny clearing, bundle in hand
.
SARAH
(
Calling softly
) Hannibal—
The camera pans to a little hillock in deep grass where a lean, vital young man lies, arms folded under his head, staring up at the stars with bright commanding eyes. At the sound of
SARAH
’s
voice off-camera we come down in his eyes. He comes alert. She calls again
.
Hannibal—
He smiles and hides as she approaches
.
Hannibal—
She whirls about fearfully at the snap of a twig, then reassured crosses in front of his hiding place, searching
.
Hannibal—
He touches her ankle—she screams. Laughing, he reaches for her. With a sigh of exasperation she throws him his food
.
HANNIBAL
(
Romantically, wistfully—playing the poet-fool
) And when she come to me, it were the moonrise … (
He holds out his hand
) And when she touch my hand, it were the true stars fallin’.
He takes her hand and pulls her down in the grass and kisses her. She pulls away with the urgency of her news
.
SARAH
Coffin noticed you was gone first thing!
HANNIBAL
Well, that old driver finally gettin’ to be almost smart as a jackass.
SARAH
Say he gona tell Marster Sweet in the mornin’! You gona catch you another whippin’, boy …! (
In a mood to ignore peril, Hannibal goes on eating his food
) Hannibal, why you have to run off like that all the time?
HANNIBAL
(
Teasing
) Don’t run off
all
the time.
SARAH
Oh, Hannibal!
HANNIBAL
(
Finishing the meager supper and reaching out for her playfully
)
“
Oh, Hannibal. Oh, Hannibal!” Come here. (
He takes hold of her and kisses her once sweetly and lightly
) H’you this evenin’, Miss Sarah Mae?
SARAH
You don’t know how mad old Coffin was today, boy, or you wouldn’t be so smart. He’s gona get you in trouble with Marster again.
HANNIBAL
Me and you was
born
in trouble with Marster. (
Suddenly looking up at the sky and pointing to distract her
) Hey, lookathere!—
SARAH
(
Noting him and also looking up
) What—
HANNIBAL
(
Drawing her close
) Lookit that big, old, fat star shinin’ away up yonder there!
SARAH
(
Automatically dropping her voice and looking about a bit
) Shhh. Hannibal!
HANNIBAL
(
With his hand, as though he is personally touching the stars
) One, two three, four—they makes up the dipper. That’s the Big Dipper, Sarah. The old Drinkin’ Gourd pointin’ straight to the North Star!
SARAH
(
Knowingly
) Everybody knows that’s the Big Dipper and you better hush your mouth for sure now, boy. Trees on this plantation got more ears than leaves!
HANNIBAL
(
Ignoring the caution
) That’s the old Drinkin’ Gourd herself!
Releasing the girl’s arms and settling down, a little wistfully now
.
HANNIBAL
Sure is bright tonight. Sure would make good travelin’ light tonight …
SARAH
(
With terror, clapping her hand over his mouth
) Stop it!
HANNIBAL
(
Moving her hand
)—up there jes pointin’ away …
due North!
SARAH
(
Regarding him sadly
) You’re sure like your brother, boy. Just like him.
HANNIBAL
ignores her and leans back in the grass in the position of the opening shot of the scene, with his arms tucked under his head. He sings softly to himself:
HANNIBAL
“For the old man is a-waitin’
For to carry you to freedom
If you follow the Drinking Gourd.
Follow—follow—follow …
If you follow the Drinking Gourd …”
SARAH
(
Over the song
)—look like him … talk like him … and God knows, you sure think like him. (
Pause
) In time, I reckon—(
Very sadly
)—you be gone like him.
HANNIBAL
(
Sitting bolt upright suddenly and peering into the woods about them
) You think Isaiah got all the way to Canada, Sarah? Mama says it’s powerful far. Farther than Ohio! (
This last with true wonder
) Sure he did! I bet you old Isaiah is up there and got hisself a job and is livin’ fine. I bet you that! Bet he works in a lumberyard or something and got hisself a wife and maybe even a house and—
SARAH
(
Quietly
) You mean if he’s alive, Hannibal.
HANNIBAL
Oh, he’s alive, all right! Catchers ain’t never caught my brother. (
He whistles through his teeth
) That boy lit out of here in a way somebody go who don’t mean to never be caught by nothin’!
(
He waits. Then, having assured himself within
) Wherever he is, he’s alive. And he’s free.
SARAH
I can’t see how his runnin’ off like that did you much good. Or your mama. Almost broke her heart, that’s what. And worst of all, leavin’ his poor little baby. Leavin’ poor little Joshua who don’t have no mother of his own as it is. Seem like your brother just went out his head when Marster sold Joshua’s mother. I guess everybody on this plantation knew he wasn’t gona be here long then. Even Marster must of known.
HANNIBAL
But Marster couldn’t keep him here then! Not all Marster’s dogs and drivers and guns. Nothin’. (
He looks to the woods, remembering
) I met him here that night to bring him the food and a extry pair of shoes. He was standin’ right over there, right over there, with the moonlight streamin’ down on him and he was breathin’ hard—Lord, that boy was breathin’ so’s you could almost hear him on the other side of the woods. (
A sudden pause and then a rush in the telling
) He didn’t say nothin’ to me, nothin’ at all. But his eyes look like somebody lit a fire in ’em, they was shinin’ so in the dark. I jes hand him the parcel and he put it in his shirt and give me a kind of push on the shoulder … (
He touches the place, remembering keenly
)
…
Here. And then he turned and lit out through them woods like lightnin’. He was
bound
out this place!
He is entirely quiet behind the completion of the narrative
.
SARAH
is deeply affected by the implications of what she has heard and suddenly puts her arms around his neck and clings very tightly to him. Then she holds him back from her and looks at him for the truth
.
SARAH
You aim to go, don’t you, Hannibal?
He does not answer and it is clear because of it that he intends to run off
.
H’you know it’s so much better to run off? (
A little desperately, near tears, thinking of the terrors involved
) Even if you make it—h’you know what’s up there, what it be like to go wanderin’ ’round by yourself in this world?
HANNIBAL
I don’t know. Jes know what it is to be a slave!
SARAH
Where would you go—?
HANNIBAL
Jes North, that’s all I know. (
Kind of shrugging
) Try to find Isaiah maybe. How I know what I do? (
Throwing up his hands at the difficult question
) There’s people up there what helps runaways.
SARAH
You mean them aba—aba-litchinists? I heard Marster Sweet say once that they catches runaways and makes soap out of them.
HANNIBAL
(
Suddenly older and wiser
) That’s slave-owner talk, Sarah. Whatever you hear Marster say ’bout slavery—you always believe the opposite. There ain’t nothin’ hurt slave marster so much—(
Savoring the notion
)—as when his property walk away from him. Guess that’s the worst blow of all. Way I look at it, ever’ slave ought to run off ’fore he die.
SARAH
(
Looking up suddenly, absorbing the sense of what he has just said
) Oh, Hannibal—I couldn’t go! (
She starts to shake all over
) I’m too delicate. My breath wouldn’t hold out from here to the river …
HANNIBAL
(
Starting to laugh at her
) No, not you—skeerified as you is! (
He looks at her and pulls her to him
) But don’t you worry, little Sarah. I’ll come back. (
He smoothes her hair and comforts her
) I’ll come back and buy you. Mama too, if she’s still livin’.