Fences Page #7

troy:
How many times you gonna tell me that, Gabe?

gabriel:
Ain’t got my name in the book. Don’t have to

have my name. I done died and went to Heaven. He

got your name though. One morning Saint Peter was

looking at his book . . . marking it up for the

Judgment . . . and he let me see your name. Got it

in there under M. Got Rose’s name . . . I ain’t

seen it like I seen yours . . . but I know it’s in

there. He got a great big book. Got everybody’s

name what was ever been born. That’s what he told

me. But I seen your name. Seen it with my own eyes.

troy:
Go on in the house there. Rose going to fix you

something to eat.

gabriel:
Oh, I ain’t hungry. I done had breakfast with

Aunt Jemimah. She come by and cooked me up a whole

mess of flapjacks. Remember how we used to eat

them flapjacks?

troy:
Go on in the house and get you something to eat

now.

gabriel:
I got to go sell my plums. I done sold some

tomatoes. Got me two quarters. Wanna see?

He shows his quarters to Troy, then

pockets them.

gabriel:
I’m gonna save them and buy me a new horn so

Saint Peter can hear me when it’s time to open the

Gates.

(turning with a sudden violence)

Hear that? Hear that? That’s the hellhounds. I

got to chase them out of here. Go on get out of

here! Get out!

(singing softly)

Well, all you hypocrite members,

You wasting your time away.

My God’s calling for workmens

And you had better obey.

(louder)

Better get ready for judgment!

Gabriel walks away singing as

neighborhood kids give chase. Troy

starts after him, then stops, looking

at the old ladies, watching. He goes

into the house.

INT. THE KITCHEN—MORNING

Troy comes into the kitchen. Rose,

apron on, is making biscuit batter.

rose:
Where’s Gabe?

troy:
He gone off somewhere.

rose:
He ain’t eating right. Miss Pearl say she can’t

get him to eat nothing.

troy:
What you want me to do about it, Rose? I done

did everything I can for the man. I can’t make him

get well. Man got half his head blown away . . .

what you expect?

Troy pours himself a second cup of

coffee.

rose:
Seem like something ought to be done to help him.

troy:
Man don’t bother nobody. He just mixed up from

that metal plate he got in his head. Ain’t no

sense for him to go back into the hospital.

rose:
Least he be eating right. They can help him take

care of himself.

troy:
Don’t nobody wanna be locked up, Rose. What you

wanna lock him up for? Man go over there and fight

the war . . . messin’ around with them Japs, get

half his head blown off . . . and they give him a

lousy three thousand dollars. And I had to swoop

down on that.

Don’t nobody wanna be locked up, Rose. What you

wanna lock him up for? Man go over there and fight

the war . . . messin’ around with them Japs, get

half his head blown off . . . and they give him a

lousy three thousand dollars. And I had to swoop

down on that.

rose:
Is you fixing to go into that again?

troy:
That’s the only way I got a roof over my

head . . . ’cause of that metal plate.

rose:
Ain’t no sense you blaming yourself for nothing.

Gabe wasn’t in no condition to manage that money.

You done what was right by him. Can’t nobody say

you ain’t done what was right by him. Look how

long you took care of him . . . till he wanted to

have his own place and moved over there with Miss

Pearl.

troy:
That ain’t what I’m saying, woman! I’m just

stating the facts. If my brother didn’t have that

metal plate in his head . . . I wouldn’t have a

pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. And

I’m fifty-three years old. Now see if you can understand

that!

He turns and goes to the front door.

He grabs his jacket and hat. Rose is

in the kitchen doorway, holding the

mixing bowl.

rose:
Where you going off to? You been running out of

here every Saturday for weeks. I thought you was

gonna work on this fence?

troy:
I’m gonna walk down to Taylors’. Listen to the

ball game. I’ll be back in a bit. I’ll work on it

when I get back.

I’m gonna walk down to Taylors’. Listen to the

ball game. I’ll be back in a bit. I’ll work on it

when I get back.

He goes out the front door, closing it

hard. Rose looks down at the mixing

bowl, surprised that she’s holding it.

She goes to the kitchen trash can and

starts to dump the batter, but she

can’t. She sits at the table. She finds

the ball game on the radio. She gets a

metal cooking sheet, returns to the

table, wipes her hands and starts

lumping batter onto the sheet. Soon

her fingers are covered with batter.

She scrapes vigorously at her hands to

clean them, then stops, her hands

shaking. She exerts her will,

steadying them. CLOSE UP on her hands;

time passes, the light changes.

CUT TO:

INT. KITCHEN—DAY

cory (o.s.):
Mama? You all right?

Two hours later. Rose sits, unmoving.

The lumps of dough on the sheet have

hardened. The game is still in

progress. She turns as if waking up.

Cory’s behind her in his muddy workout

clothes, holding his shoulder pads and

cleats. Rose wipes her hands, switches

off the radio, then carries the baking

sheet to the trash can, scraping off

the ruined biscuits with a knife.

rose:
Your daddy like to had a fit with you running out

of here this morning without doing your chores.

cory:
I told you I had to go to practice.

rose:
He say you were supposed to help him with the

fence.

cory:
He been saying that the last four or five Saturdays,

and then he don’t never do nothing, but go

down to Taylors’ . . . Did you tell him about the

recruiter?

He opens the refrigerator and imagines

the possibilities

rose:
Yeah, I told him.

cory:
What he say?

rose:
He ain’t said nothing too much. You get up there

and get started on your chores before he gets

back. Go on and scrub down them steps before he

gets back here hollering and carrying on.

Rose tosses the baking sheet in the

sink.

EXT. THE FRONT PORCH—LATER THAT DAY

Rose, dressed nicely, checks the front

door to make sure it’s locked. She

picks up a covered pie that she’s put

on one of the chairs. Troy comes

silently up the front steps, grabbing

Rose from behind. Startled, she jumps!

rose:
Troy!

He laughs.

rose:
Go on, now. You liked to scared me to death.

What was the score of the game? Lucille had me on

the phone and I couldn’t keep up with it.

troy:
What I care about the game? Come here, woman.

He tries to kiss her.

rose:
I thought you went down Taylors’ to listen to

the game. Go on, Troy! You supposed to be putting

up the fence.

Attempting to kiss her again.

troy:
I’ll put it up when I finish with what is at

hand.

rose:
Go on, Troy. I ain’t studying you.

Playfully chasing after her.

troy:
I’m studying you . . . fixing to do my homework!

He lunges again, grabs her.

rose:
Troy, you better leave me alone.

troy:
Where’s Cory? That boy brought his butt home yet?

rose:
He’s in the house doing his chores.

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