Malcolm X Page #17

Malcolm shows no flicker of interest or understanding.

BEMBRY:

I brought you something.

He puts down a small matchbox on the bench next to Malcolm's

things.

Malcolm eyes him like a snake -- but the punishment has

reduced him to deep insecurity and his belligerence is more

cautious than angry.

MALCOLM:

Who the hell are you?

BEMBRY:

Put it in a cup of water. It's nutmeg.

MALCOLM:

Man, what do you want?

BEMBRY:

You need something. It's not a reefer,

but it'll help some.

MALCOLM:

Man, get outa my face. I ain't

nobody's punk.

But he steps out of the shower, fills a tin cup with water

and empties the contents of the matchbox into it. And drinks

it down quickly.

BEMBRY:

Sit down or it might knock you down.

Malcolm sits, toweling himself as the spice hits him. For

the first, he smiles; this is the first relief he has tasted

in prison. He at Bembry wonderingly, unable to figure him

out.

MALCOLM:

If you ain't trying to punk me, what's

your hype?

BEMBRY:

I can show you how to get out of

prison. And it's no hype.

MALCOLM:

Talk, daddy, I'm listening. Hey that

ain't bad. You got some more?

BEMBRY:

That's the last stuff you'll ever

get from me.

MALCOLM:

What did you give it to me for then?

BEMBRY:

'Cause you needed it. 'Cause you

couldn't hear me without it.

This is a new breed of cat; Malcolm has never met anyone

like him. He eyes him closely, as he slips into his clothes.

MALCOLM:

What in the hell are you talking

about?

He begins to conk his hair, but is paying attention to what

Bembry is saying.

BEMBRY:

I think you got more sense than any

cat in this prison. How come you are

such a fool?

Malcolm looks over, piqued.

BEMBRY:

Nobody can bust out like Bogart does

it, in the movies. Because even if

you get out, you are still in prison.

Malcolm is putting the conk into his hair now.

MALCOLM:

You ain't lying.

BEMBRY:

When you go busting your fists against

a stone wall, you're not using your

brains. Cause that's what the white

man wants you to do. Look at you.

These last words are spoken sharply with disgust. Malcolm

turns his hands massaging the conk into his hair.

BEMBRY:

Putting all that poison in your hair.

MALCOLM:

Man, you been locked up too long,

everybody conks. All the cats.

BEMBRY:

Why? Why does everybody conk?

MALCOLM:

Cause I don't want to walk around

with my head all nappy, looking like --

BEMBRY:

Like what? Looking like me? Like a

n*gger?! Why don't you want to look

like what you are? What makes you

ashamed of being black?

MALCOLM:

I ain't said I'm ashamed.

He turns the water on to wash out the conk -- which has begun

to burn.

Bembry restrains him, holding his arm.

MALCOLM:

Leggo. I got to wash it out.

BEMBRY:

Let it burn. Maybe you'll hear me

then.

But it is burning now.

MALCOLM:

Man, you better get off me.

He wrenches away from Bembry and puts his head in the water.

BEMBRY:

Sure, burn yourself, pain yourself,

put all that poison into your hair,

into your body -- trying to be white.

MALCOLM:

Man, I don't want to hear all that.

BEMBRY:

I thought you was smart. But you

just another one of them cats

strutting down the avenue in your

clown suit with all that mess on

you. Like a monkey. And the white

man sees you and he laughs. He laughs

because he knows you ain't white.

Malcolm is drying his hair, finishing his conk. But some of

what Bembry has said disturbs him.

MALCOLM:

Who are you?

Malcolm is completely humiliated. Bembry sees this and stops

the barrage.

BEMBRY:

The question is, who are you? You

are in the darkness, but it's not

your fault. Elijah Muhammad can bring

you into the light.

MALCOLM:

Elijah who?

BEMBRY:

Elijah Muhammad can get you out of

prison. Out of the prison of your

mind. Maybe all you want is another

fix. I thought you were smart.

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