Cormac McCarthy: The Sunset Limited

White: No. I cant.

Black: Well bless you, brother. Bless you and keep you. Cause it’s there.

They sit.

White: When were you in the penitentiary?

Black: Long time ago.

White: What were you in for?

Black: Murder.

White: Really?

Black: Now who would claim to be a murderer that wasnt one?

White: You called it the jailhouse.

Black: Yeah?

White: Do most blacks call the penitentiary the jailhouse?

Black: Naw. Just us old country niggers. We kind of make it a point to call things for what they is. I’d hate to guess how many names they is for the jailhouse. I’d hate to have to count em.

White: Do you have a lot of jailhouse stories?

Black: Jailhouse stories.

White: Yes.

Black: I dont know. I used to tell jailhouse stories some but they kindly lost their charm. Maybe we ought to talk about somethin more cheerful.

White: Have you ever been married?

Black: Married.

White: Yes.

Black: (Softly) Oh man.

White: What.

Black: Maybe we ought to take another look at them jailhouse stories. (He shakes his head, laughing soundlessly. He pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut.) Oh my.

White: Do you have any children?

Black: Naw, Professor, I aint got nobody. Everbody in my family is dead. I had two boys. They been dead for years. Just about everbody I ever knowed is dead, far as that goes. You might want to think about that. I might be a hazard to your health.

White: You were always in a lot of trouble?

Black: Yeah. I was. I liked it. Maybe I still do. I done seven years hard time and I was lucky not to of done a lot more. I hurt a lot of people. I’d smack em around a little and then they wouldnt get up again.

White: But you dont get in trouble now.

Black: No.

White: But you still like it?

Black: Well, maybe I’m just condemned to it. Bit in the ass by my own karma. But I’m on the other side now. You want to help people that’s in trouble you pretty much got to go where the trouble is at. You aint got a lot of choice.

White: And you want to help people in trouble.

Black: Yeah.

White: Why is that?

The black tilts his head and studies him.

Black: You aint ready for that.

White: How about just the short answer.

Black: That is the short answer.

White: How long have you been here?

Black: You mean in this buildin?

White: Yes.

Black: Six years. Seven, almost.

White: I dont understand why you live here.

Black: As compared to where?

White: Anywhere.

Black: Well I’d say this pretty much is anywhere. I could live in another buildin I reckon. This is all right. I got a bedroom where I can get away. Got a sofa yonder where people can crash. Junkies and crackheads, mostly. Of course they goin to carry off your portables so I dont own nothin. And that’s good. You hang out with the right crowd and you’ll finally get cured of just about ever cravin. They took the refrigerator one time but somebody caught em on the stairs with it and made em bring it back up. Now I got that big sucker yonder. Traded up. Only thing I miss is the music. I aim to get me a steel door for the bedroom. Then I can have me some music again. You got to get the door and the frame together. I’m workin on that. I dont care nothin about television but I miss that music.

White: You dont think this is a terrible place?

Black: Terrible?

White: Yes.

Black: What’s terrible about it?

White: It’s horrible. It’s a horrible life.

Black: Horrible life?

White: Yes.

Black: Damn, Professor. This aint a horrible life. What you talkin bout?

White: This place. It’s a horrible place. Full of horrible people.

Black: Oh my.

White: You must know these people are not worth saving. Even if they could be saved. Which they cant. You must know that.

Black: Well, I always liked a challenge. I started a ministry in prison fore I got out. Now that was a challenge. Lot of the brothers’d show up that they didnt really care nothin bout it. They couldnt of cared less bout the word of God. They just wanted it on their resumé.

White: Resumé?

Black: Resumé. You had brothers in there that had done some real bad shit and they wasnt sorry about a damn thing cept gettin caught. Of course the funny thing was a lot of em did believe in God. Maybe even more than these folks here on the outside. I know I did. You might want to think about that, Professor.

White: I think I’d better go.

Black: You dont need to go, Professor. What am I goin to do, you leave me settin here by myself?

White: You dont need me. You just dont want to feel responsible if anything happens to me.

Black: What’s the difference?

White: I dont know. I just need to go.

Black: Just stay a while. This place is got to be more cheerful than you own.

White: I dont think you have any idea how strange it is for me to be here.

Black: I think I got some idea.

White: I have to go.

Black: Let me ask you somethin.

White: All right.

Black: You ever had one of them days when things was just sort of weird all the way around? When things just kindly fell into place?

White: I’m not sure what you mean.

Black: Just one of them days. Just kind of magic. One of them days when everthing turns out right.

White: I dont know. Maybe. Why?

Black: I just wondered if maybe it aint been kindly a long dry spell for you. Until you finally took up with the notion that that’s the way the world is.

White: The way the world is.

Black: Yeah.

White: And how is that?

Black: I dont know. Long and dry. The point is that even if it might seem that way to you you still got to understand that the sun dont shine up the same dog’s ass ever day. You understand what I’m sayin?

White: If what you’re saying is that I’m simply having a bad day that’s ridiculous.

Black: I dont think you havin a bad day, Professor. I think you havin a bad life.

White: You think I should change my life.

Black: What, are you shittin me?

White: I have to go.

Black: You could hang with me here a little while longer.

White: What about my jailhouse story?

Black: You dont need to hear no jailhouse story.

White: Why not?

Black: Well, you kind of suspicious bout everthing. You think I’m fixin to put you in the trick bag.

White: And you’re not.

Black: Oh no. I am. I just dont want you to know about it.

White: Well, in any case I need to go.

Black: You know you aint ready to hit the street.

White: I have to.

Black: I know you aint got nothin you got to do.

White: And how do you know that?

Black: Cause you aint even supposed to be here.

White: I see your point.

Black: What if I was to tell you a jailhouse story? You stay then?

White: All right. I’ll stay for a while.

Black: My man. All right. Here’s my jailhouse story.

White: Is it a true story?

Black: Oh yeah. It’s a true story. I dont know no other kind.

White: All right.

Black: All right. I’m in the chowline and I’m gettin my chow and this nigger in the line behind me gets into it with the server. Says the beans is cold and he throws the ladle down in the beans. And when he done that they was beans splashed on me. Well, I wasnt goin to get into it over some beans but it did piss me off some. I’d just put on a clean suit—you know, khakis, shirt and trousers—and you only got two a week. And I did say somethin to him like hey man, watch it, or somethin like that. But I went on, and I’m thinkin, just let it go. Let it go. And then this dude says somethin to me and I turned and looked back at him and when I done that he stuck a knife in me. I never even seen it. And the blood is just flyin. And this aint no jailhouse shiv neither. It’s one of them italian switchblades. One of them black and silver jobs. And I didnt do a thing in the world but duck and step under the rail and I reached and got hold of the leg of this table and it come off in my hand just as easy. And it’s got this big long screw stickin out of the end of it and I went to wailin on this nigger’s head and I didnt quit. I beat on it till you couldnt hardly tell it was a head. And that screw’d stick in his head and I’d have to stand on him to pull it out again.