Three Plays Read online

PATRICIA: Can’t everyone find something to complain about?

  LOOKSMART: Like what? Like getting old? Like being rich?

  PATRICIA: I see you haven’t changed. You’re still a child at heart.

  He glares at her, furious.

  LOOKSMART: Actually I do remember the day we caught that fish. I remember the rock you gave me. To smack its head. You made me hit its head with a rock.

  PATRICIA: Nonsense, we let that fish go.

  LOOKSMART: You think?

  Silence.

  LOOKSMART: But I’ve come around to your way of thinking. I think we do far too much of this – letting people off the hook. Ja, Madam. You’ll find I’m a far more effective fisherman now.

  He picks up the apple. He picks up the knife.

  During the following, he peels the apple into a slow spiral, very carefully.

  PATRICIA: You make that sound like a threat.

  LOOKSMART: I do? A threat? Well – I’d have to think very carefully about that one. One could argue that it wouldn’t be in my interests to threat you.

  PATRICIA: One could.

  LOOKSMART: One could point out my wife, my two daughters, my car and my well-paying job. Do you know – your former garden boy is now driving a Mercedes-Benz? These days, I’m what you might call a success. Do you want to know how much I paid for this suit?

  PATRICIA: I couldn’t care less what you paid for that suit.

  LOOKSMART: Ja, one could argue that my future is lying ahead of me. Full of promise.

  PATRICIA: Looksmart – what is it you want from me?

  LOOKSMART: Patience, Madam. Patience is rewarded in the end to those that wait.

  Silence.

  PATRICIA: You can’t come into people’s houses and start talking like this.

  LOOKSMART: I can’t?

  PATRICIA: I hardly know who you are anymore.

  LOOKSMART: But I thought I hadn’t changed.

  PATRICIA: In some ways you have –

  LOOKSMART: And you? Have you changed?

  PATRICIA: Probably. Everything has, hasn’t it? The country and everything in it.

  LOOKSMART: And you’re pleased about that?

  PATRICIA: My opinion hardly counts.

  LOOKSMART: Oh, I’m very interested to know what goes on between your ears.

  Silence.

  She looks at the knife in his hands.

  LOOKSMART: Ja – you’re afraid. Like the rest of them, you live in a constant state of fear.

  PATRICIA: That’s because there are things to be afraid about. Do you know Priscilla Johnson was murdered only last week? Did your network tell you that? They tied her up, raped her and cut her throat. Or maybe they raped her and then tied her up – I wouldn’t know.

  LOOKSMART: Well I’m glad the truth of this place has finally reached you.

  PATRICIA: And you – you’re not even a shadow of the little boy I knew. I –

  LOOKSMART: Ha! I was hardly a little boy, Madam, I was what? Eighteen when I left?

  PATRICIA: You think at eighteen you’re a man? Is that what you think?

  LOOKSMART: I was a man. You made me to be a man.

  PATRICIA: That’s something, isn’t it?

  LOOKSMART: You don’t know what I mean!

  PATRICIA: How can I! You’ve being so – perverse!

  LOOKSMART: You think I’m a pervert?

  PATRICIA: I never said that!

  Silence.

  LOOKSMART: I have come back here because I have things. (Indicating head.) Things in here. Things I can never forget.

  PATRICIA: What things? What can they have to do with me?

  He looks at the flayed apple and puts it on the mantelpiece.

  The knife he still holds in his hand.

  LOOKSMART: Do you remember those clay animals I made you once? When I was a boy. No higher than my belt.

  PATRICIA: Yes, yes, of course I do.

  LOOKSMART: Yes. Yes of course you do. I remember feeling so proud when you put them there, on your mantelpiece. Whenever I came into this room, I’d quickly look up to see if they were still there, in place. After a while they seemed to knock into each other, crack up. I remember a dislodged head, an animal with legs broken off at the knees, lying upside-down on its back. Then one day they were gone.

  PATRICIA: You had talent. Are you still doing any art?

  LOOKSMART laughs.

  LOOKSMART: Madam, I do not have time for such a thing as art. Art? What is the point of that? I was trying to impress you. You call that art?

  PATRICIA: You had – something magic in your touch.

  LOOKSMART is not convinced.

  PATRICIA: It’s dark outside. My husband will soon be getting back.

  LOOKSMART: I wouldn’t count on that.

  Silence.

  LOOKSMART: But aren’t you going to offer me some carrot cake? Isn’t that what you usually offer to your guests?

  PATRICIA: If you like. Although I’m afraid we don’t have any cake. Tea we have. Tea and perhaps some biscuits.

  LOOKSMART: That would be nice.

  She calls BEAUTY in a more conventional way than she did earlier.

  PATRICIA: Beauty!

  LOOKSMART: Try it again, Madam.

  PATRICIA: Hmm?

  LOOKSMART: That isn’t how it’s usually done.

  PATRICIA: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

  LOOKSMART: You know exactly what I’m talking about. She won’t come unless you call her like you’re calling one of your dogs.

  PATRICIA: How dare you!

  LOOKSMART: Come on, Madam. Just try it.

  PATRICIA: I will not.

  LOOKSMART: Try it! Try it again – for old time’s sake.

  PATRICIA: Beau-ty!

  LOOKSMART: Again, Mesis.

  PATRICIA: Beau-ty! Beau-ty!

  LOOKSMART: That’s more like it!

  BEAUTY enters.

  LOOKSMART: You see? A result!

  BEAUTY: Mesis?

  PATRICIA: Still no Richard?

  BEAUTY: No, Mesis.

  PATRICIA: And Bheki?

  BEAUTY: I can’t find him.

  PATRICIA: Keep looking. Bheki must be somewhere.

  BEAUTY: I will go, Mesis.

  LOOKSMART looks at PATRICIA. He mimes drinking a cup of tea.

  PATRICIA: And Beauty – can you prepare some tea. Tea and Marie biscuits, please.

  BEAUTY: The biscuits, they have gone soft, Mesis.

  PATRICIA: Then put them in the oven. Dry them out.

  BEAUTY: I will.

  BEAUTY is about to leave.

  LOOKSMART: Beauty, usangikhumbula (do you remember me)?

  BEAUTY: I know you. You are Looksmart.

  He looks her up and down.

  He puts down the knife.

  LOOKSMART: And is that all you have to say? (To PATRICIA.) I think she’s intimidated by my suit.

  BEAUTY stares at the ground.

  PATRICIA: Thank you, Beauty. Just the tea.

  BEAUTY: Yebo, Mesis.

  BEAUTY glances at the knife and leaves.

  LOOKSMART: She was a small girl when I saw her last. Now she looks like an old woman. How is that possible?

  PATRICIA: She keeps herself to herself. She and Bheki will be coming with us to Durban tomorrow.

  Silence.

  PATRICIA: Looksmart – please tell me what you want.

  LOOKSMART: I knew her older sister better. Her name was Grace.

  Silence.

  LOOKSMART: A lot like Beauty, only far more beautiful.

  PATRICIA: The girl who died. You –

  LOOKSMART: Died or was killed? Which was it? (Off her look.) You do not like the distinction? At the time, I saw it as murder. Plain and simple.

  PATRICIA: Murder?

  LOOKSMART: Mur-der.

  Silence.

  PATRICIA: Looksmart –

  LOOKSMART: That is not my name.

  PATRICIA: What?

  LOOKSMART: Looksmart is not my name.

 
; Silence.

  PATRICIA: But I was there when you were born. I was there at the exact moment your mother named you Looksmart.

  LOOKSMART: Ag – stop your lies. You’re a bloody liar, Madam!

  PATRICIA: (Trying to claw her way back at him.) It was a wet night – like this. Richard had gone off on one of his errands and your father – he banged on the door. I thought it was the wind at first, but then I went there and I found your father. He said I must come. He said his child – you – were ready to be born. So I followed him out. The rain stinging our faces. But I found my way in the darkness, all the way to your parents’ hut.

  LOOKSMART: You’re making this up!

  PATRICIA: I am pain – that’s what your mother said. She looked all twisted up, like a wet towel. I told her the pain was her friend. It was there to get the baby out. Don’t scream, I said. Instead you must push. And it took another hour – of screaming and not screaming – until out you came, grey and rubbery, like a big dead fish. But you weren’t dead. I lifted you up and you screamed and everyone laughed. We knew then that you would be alright.

  LOOKSMART shakes his head, but he is hanging onto every word she says.

  PATRICIA: I wrapped you in a bundle and handed you to your mother and you found her breast and started to suck. Even though the milk hadn’t come, you knew what you wanted and where to find it. A strong chap you’ll be, I said. And your mother said, We will name him Looksmart. Usually – I would have left. But I sat by the bed and me and your parents had some tea. We stared at your tiny sleeping face for so long that all other faces looked impossibly huge, like exaggerated moons. It was a good night to be born, Looksmart. The rain went deep. It felt like nothing wicked would ever be left in the world.

  Silence.

  LOOKSMART starts to pace the room.

  LOOKSMART: My name is Phiwayinkosi Ndlovu. That is the name my parents gave me! But only when you were gone again. Looksmart – that is only the name they gave in order to please you! But I am not here for this. I am here to talk about Grace. Grace. The sister of Beauty. The girl I loved!

  PATRICIA: The girl you loved? But – I don’t know anything about that.

  LOOKSMART: Well – you wouldn’t!

  PATRICIA: Listen to me – people get attacked by dogs all the time. It’s a terrible thing, but it’s not – it’s not murder.

  BEAUTY enters with the tea and biscuits.

  LOOKSMART: God – you should be stuffed and put in a museum!

  BEAUTY sets the tray down on the table next to PATRICIA. She switches on the lamp.

  BEAUTY: Nanti itiye (here is the tea), Mesis.

  She pours the tea for PATRICIA and gives her the cup and saucer.

  PATRICIA: Ngiyabonga, Beauty.

  BEAUTY: I will go again and look for uBaas.

  BEAUTY starts to leave.

  LOOKSMART: I’ll have mine with milk.

  BEAUTY stops. Then she turns back and pours LOOKSMART’s tea. She leaves it on a box near him.

  LOOKSMART: And sugar. Three and a bit.

  BEAUTY returns to the tray, gets the sugar, dumps three spoons into his cup. She leaves the teaspoon there but doesn’t stir it.

  Then she picks up the knife and slips it into her pocket.

  PATRICIA: Thank you, Beauty.

  BEAUTY leaves.

  LOOKSMART picks up his tea, stirs it, sips.

  LOOKSMART: The big Baas Richard! When I think of him, I think of a soft, white moth. Small, weak, without any blood. When I take him between my finger and my thumb to find out what is there, I find he has just turned to dust.

  Silence.

  PATRICIA: Looksmart, I hope you haven’t made some terrible mistake.

  LOOKSMART: (Putting down the tea.) What I want is for you to tell me. To tell me everything you remember about this girl – Grace!

  PATRICIA: But I hardly said two words –

  LOOKSMART: Because I can see it all quite clearly. We are sitting – you and me – just out there on the stoep. When we hear this animal cry, coming from there – from the dairy. And then nothing. You turn to me and ask me what is happening when we see her – running along the dirt track past the house. (Gesturing beyond the room.) Right – there. Her clothing in tatters. Did you ever wonder why her clothing was in tatters?

  PATRICIA: She was – half-dressed.

  LOOKSMART: And you never wondered about that?

  PATRICIA: It was the police’s job. To wonder about that.

  LOOKSMART: I was actually waiting for her to come to your house that morning. She wanted to ask for time off. For the wedding. For preparations. But she never did ask, did she?

  PATRICIA: The – wedding?

  LOOKSMART: At first I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Her head down, not wasting any breath for screaming. And then the dog, the Baas’s dog, black and silent, galloping fast. Three, then two, then one pace behind her.

  PATRICIA: Richard said it had broken free.

  LOOKSMART: Suddenly, Grace is a double creature. Half woman, half dog. She utters a sound so terrible I don’t even recognise it as her, as coming from her. But it brings a dozen farmworkers into the garden within seconds. We gather around, worshippers around some – ancient sacrifice. Silent with terror. Whenever I try to approach, the dog swivels around so that Grace stands between us. Always, always, Grace is coming between us. And Grace, she is wailing in a strange, song-like way. She utters the same few notes repeatedly, obsessively, as if her voice has found the right level, the right pitch, the right song for the pain.

  PATRICIA: I didn’t hear that. I was getting the gun. I tried to get a clear shot. Didn’t you hear the shot I fired into the air?

  LOOKSMART: There was nothing like that.

  PATRICIA: I went in and pulled the dog away when it was adjusting its grip!

  LOOKSMART: She stares ahead –

  PATRICIA: Afterwards, I wanted to shoot that dog. But my husband stopped me. He said she’d been taunting it, throwing stones at it, and that it pulled itself free.

  LOOKSMART: I wrap her up in an old horse blanket and carry her towards your car. But you don’t want me to put her there. You think her blood will ruin the seats. You don’t say it, but I can see you – thinking it. You tell us to carry her across to the dairy. To take her to the hospital in the back of the bakkie. But when we get there, there is no bakkie. So I come back and tell you. You agree to let me put her in your car. The Mercedes-Benz. You make us put down lots of blankets on the back seat. We lay her down. I drive, fast as I can, to the nearest hospital. When we get there, I think she’s fallen into a deep sleep. But she’s not asleep, is she? She is dead.

  Silence.

  LOOKSMART: I only stayed on the farm long enough to see them bury her. When I left the next morning, the clouds were – torn to pieces across the sky.

  PATRICIA: That poor girl. If she hadn’t thrown that stone –

  LOOKSMART: That stone? Ha! Who threw the first stone, Madam?

  PATRICIA stares at him.

  LOOKSMART: What I’ve told you is not the full story. It is only what we saw. What about what we didn’t see?

  Silence.

  LOOKSMART: When I was carrying Grace towards the dairy, her mouth against my ear, she whispered something so bad that I have never told it to anyone. It was your husband. Your husband Richard who caused it. Beauty saw them. She walked into that room where the milk tank is. She found them there. On the floor.

  PATRICIA: I beg your pardon?

  LOOKSMART: Your husband was holding her down and raping her.

  PATRICIA: Don’t be –

  LOOKSMART: He never saw Beauty, but Grace did. She uttered that shriek we heard and she shoved him off.

  PATRICIA: I don’t believe one word of –

  LOOKSMART: Ja, but Beauty must have seen another thing. She saw your husband unchain the dog and let it loose in Grace.

  PATRICIA: What?

  LOOKSMART: He unchained the dog and climbed into his bakkie and he drove away into the hills.
r />   Silence.

  PATRICIA: You are calling Richard a murderer.

  LOOKSMART: I believe that’s exactly what I am calling him.

  PATRICIA: It is not a word to use lightly.

  LOOKSMART: Do you think I am using it lightly?

  Silence.

  PATRICIA: I simply can’t – Beauty said nothing. She never has.

  LOOKSMART: After Grace’s death, I just left. Who would the police have believed: your husband or me? If I’d stayed, I might have killed him. I might have buried my hands deep inside of him and drawn out his heart. His heart for my heart.

  PATRICIA: Richard was far too much of a –

  LOOKSMART: Too much of a racist to fuck a black girl? Evidently not.

  PATRICIA: Even if it’s true. Even if he did have sex with her – God knows, he might have, he tried to sleep with a long line of stable girls out from England – even then you simply don’t know he set the dog on her. That’s a monstrous thing to say. Especially when you don’t know the facts.

  LOOKSMART: What facts?

  PATRICIA: The girl was – she was throwing the stones. And the dog broke free and attacked her. Yes. And after, when I’d dragged the dog into the house – there was nothing at all about going to the dairy to get the bakkie. We loaded her straight into the Merc and drove her away at once!

  LOOKSMART: I carried her, didn’t I? You hid in the house.

  PATRICIA: I went to call the hospital, get more blankets – who knows what?

  LOOKSMART: Exact –

  PATRICIA: And how can you possibly know what I was thinking? I doubt very much that I was thinking! But I know this: I would never cared about getting blood in the seats!

  LOOKSMART: You’re going to deny even that?

  PATRICIA: By your own admission I never even said it!

  LOOKSMART: You thought it! You said we had to take her to the bakkie. And when she had to go in your car, you made us to put down blankets – flea-bitten blankets you reserve for your dogs! Of course you thought it, maan!

  Silence.

  PATRICIA: Listen, Looksmart. I don’t know what happened. Or why it has to matter now. Can’t you see – you’re wasting your time on this. On me. On things that are dead. You have a wife now. Children. You have a splendid bloody suit!

  LOOKSMART: But I want you to understand!

  PATRICIA: What?

  LOOKSMART: What I understand.

  Silence.

  LOOKSMART: The first thing I saw on getting back from boarding school was a black puppy. Playing in the garden. Chewing a rubber ball to bits. The second was Grace. The most beautiful thing I have ever seen. As our love grew, that dog in the garden was growing too. My love and your fear. They grew together. And now I can no longer separate them. When I think of one, I see the other. I see that double thing. The beast. Circling the garden, dripping blood.