Fences Page #3

troy:
How in hell they done changed?

rose:
They got lots of colored boys playing ball now.

Baseball and football.

bono:
You right about that, Rose. Times have changed,

Troy. You just come along too early.

troy:
There ought not never have been no time called

too early! Now you take that fellow . . . what’s

that fellow they had playing right field for the

Yankees back then? You know who I’m talking about,

Bono. Used to play right field for the Yankees.

rose:
Selkirk?

troy:
Selkirk! That’s it! Man batting .269, understand?

.269. What kind of sense that make? I was

hitting .432 with thirty-seven home runs! Man

batting .269 and playing right field for the Yankees!

I saw Josh Gibson’s daughter yesterday. She

walking around with raggedy shoes on her feet.

Now I bet you Selkirk’s daughter ain’t walking

around with raggedy shoes on her feet! I bet you

that!

rose:
They got a lot of colored baseball players now.

Jackie Robinson was the first. Folks had to wait

for Jackie Robinson.

They got a lot of colored baseball players now.

Jackie Robinson was the first. Folks had to wait

for Jackie Robinson.

troy:
I done seen a hundred n*ggers play baseball better

than Jackie Robinson. Hell, I know some teams

Jackie Robinson couldn’t even make! What you

talking about Jackie Robinson. Jackie Robinson

wasn’t nobody. I’m talking about if you could

play ball then they ought to have let you play.

Don’t care what color you were. Come telling me I

come along too early. If you could play . . .

then they ought to have let you play.

Troy takes a long drink.

rose:
You gonna drink yourself to death. You don’t

need to be drinking like that.

troy:
Death ain’t nothing. I done seen him. Done

wrassled with him. You can’t tell me nothing

about death. Death ain’t nothing but a fastball

on the outside corner. And you know what I’ll do

to that! Lookee here, Bono . . . am I lying?

Handing Bono the bottle, Troy picks up

the bat and takes a gentle whack at

the tethered ball. He assumes a

batter’s stance.

troy:
You get one of them fastballs, about waist high,

over the outside corner of the plate where you

can get the meat of the bat on it . . .

(he swings, smacking the ball hard:)

And good God!

The ball flies in fast circles around the

tree limb. Troy looks up into the sky.

troy:
You can kiss it good-bye. Now, am I lying?

bono:
Naw, you telling the truth there. I seen you do

it.

troy:
If I’m lying . . . that 450 feet worth of lying!

That’s all death is to me. A fastball on the outside

corner.

rose:
I don’t know why you want to get on talking

about death.

troy:
Ain’t nothing wrong with talking about death.

That’s part of life. Everybody gonna die. You

gonna die, I’m gonna die. Bono’s gonna die. Hell,

we all gonna die.

rose:
But you ain’t got to talk about it. I don’t like

to talk about it.

troy:
You the one brought it up. Me and Bono was

talking about baseball . . . you tell me I’m

gonna drink myself to death. Ain’t that right,

Bono? You know I don’t drink this but one night

out of the week. That’s Friday night. I’m gonna

drink just enough to where I can handle it. Then

I cuts it loose. I leave it alone. So don’t you

worry about me drinking myself to death. ’Cause I

ain’t worried about Death. I done seen him. I

done wrestled with him.

Rose could recite this story herself.

troy:
Look here, Bono . . . I looked up one day and

Death was marching straight at me. Like Soldiers

on Parade! The Army of Death was marching straight

at me. The middle of July, 1941. It got real cold

just like it be winter. It seem like Death himLook here, Bono . . . I looked up one day and

Death was marching straight at me. Like Soldiers

on Parade! The Army of Death was marching straight

at me. The middle of July, 1941. It got real cold

just like it be winter. It seem like Death himself

reached out and touched me on the shoulder.

He touch me just like I touch you. I got cold as

ice and Death standing there grinning at me.

rose:
Troy, why don’t you hush that talk.

troy:
I say . . . “What you want, Mr. Death? You be

wanting me? You done brought your army to be getting

me?” I looked him dead in the eye. I wasn’t

fearing nothing. I was ready to tangle. Just like

I’m ready to tangle now. The bible say be ever

vigilant. That’s why I don’t get but so drunk. I

got to keep watch.

rose (to bono):
Troy was right down there in Mercy Hospital.

You remember he had pneumonia? Laying

there with a fever talking plumb out of his head.

troy:
Death standing there staring at me . . . carrying

that sickle in his hand. Finally he say, “You want

bound over for another year?” See, just like

that . . . “You want bound over for another year?”

I told him, “Bound over hell! Let’s settle this

now!” It seem like he kinda fell back when I said

that, and all the cold went out of me. I reached

down and grabbed that sickle and threw it just as

far as I could throw it . . . and me and him commenced

to wrestling. We wrestled for three days and

three nights. I can’t say where I found the strength

from. Every time it seemed like he was gonna get

the best of me, I’d reach way down deep inside myself

and find the strength to do him one better.

rose:
Every time Troy tell that story he find different

ways to tell it. Different things to make up

about it.

troy:
I ain’t making up nothing. I’m telling you the

facts of what happened. I wrestled with Death for

three days and three nights and I’m standing here

to tell you about it . . . All right. At the end

of the third night we done weakened each other to

where we can’t hardly move. Death stood up,

throwed on his robe . . . had him a white robe

with a hood on it.

Troy mimics a Klansman’s hood. Bono laughs at

this; Rose does the same in spite of herself.

troy:
He throwed on that robe and went off to look for

his sickle. Say, “I’ll be back.” Just like that.

“I’ll be back.” I told him say, “Yeah, but . . .

you gonna have to find me!” I wasn’t no fool. I

wasn’t going looking for him. Death ain’t nothing

to play with.

INT. FRONT ROOM—AFTERNOON

Lyons, 34, enters from the street,

guitar case in hand. He is troy’s son

from a previous marriage. Although he

fancies himself a musician, he is more

caught up in the rituals and “idea” of

being a musician than in the actual

practice of the music. He hears troy’s

voice and heads to the back door,

where he stands, listening.

troy (o.s.):
And I know he’s gonna get me. I know I

got to join his army . . . his camp followers.

But as long as I keep my strength and see him

coming . . . as long as I keep up my vigilance

. . . he’s gonna have to fight to get me. I

ain’t going easy.

EXT. THE BACK YARD—AFTERNOON

bono:
Well, look here, since you got to keep up your

vigilance . . . let me have the bottle.

troy:
Aw hell, I shouldn’t have told you that part. I

should have left out that part.

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