Raisin in the Sun - Lorraine Hansberry [12]
BENEATHA (Dropping to her knees) Well—I do—all right?—thank everybody! And forgive me for ever wanting to be anything at all! (Pursuing him on her knees across the floor) FORGIVE ME, FORGIVE ME, FORGIVE ME!
RUTH Please stop it! Your mama’ll hear you.
WALTER Who the hell told you you had to be a doctor? If you so crazy ’bout messing ’round with sick people—then go be a nurse like other women—or just get married and be quiet …
BENEATHA Well—you finally got it said … It took you three years but you finally got it said. Walter, give up; leave me alone—it’s Mama’s money.
WALTER He was my father, too!
BENEATHA So what? He was mine, too—and Travis’ grandfather—but the insurance money belongs to Mama. Picking on me is not going to make her give it to you to invest in any liquor stores—(Underbreath, dropping into a chair)—and I for one say, God bless Mama for that!
WALTER (To RUTH) See—did you hear? Did you hear!
RUTH Honey, please go to work.
WALTER Nobody in this house is ever going to understand me.
BENEATHA Because you’re a nut.
WALTER Who’s a nut?
BENEATHA You—you are a nut. Thee is mad, boy.
WALTER (Looking at his wife and his sister from the door, very sadly) The world’s most backward race of people, and that’s a fact.
BENEATHA (Turning slowly in her chair) And then there are all those prophets who would lead us out of the wilderness—(WALTER slams out of the house)—into the swamps!
RUTH Bennie, why you always gotta be pickin’ on your brother? Can’t you be a little sweeter sometimes? (Door opens, WALTER walks in. He fumbles with his cap, starts to speak, clears throat, looks everywhere but at RUTH. Finally:)
WALTER (To RUTH) I need some money for carfare.
RUTH (Looks at him, then warms; teasing, but tenderly) Fifty cents? (She goes to her bag and gets money) Here—take a taxi!
(WALTER exits, MAMA enters. She is a woman in her early sixties, full-bodied and strong. She is one of those women of a certain grace and beauty who wear it so unobtrusively that it takes a while to notice. Her dark-brown face is surrounded by the total whiteness of her hair, and, being a woman who has adjusted to many things in life and overcome many more, her face is full of strength. She has, we can see, wit and faith of a kind that keep her eyes lit and full of interest and expectancy. She is, in a word, a beautiful woman. Her bearing is perhaps most like the noble bearing of the women of the Hereros of Southwest Africa—rather as if she imagines that as she walks she still bears a basket or a vessel upon her head. Her speech, on the other hand, is as careless as her carriage is precise—she is inclined to slur everything—but her voice is perhaps not so much quiet as simply soft)
MAMA Who that ’round here slamming doors at this hour?
(She crosses through the room, goes to the window, opens it, and brings in a feeble little plant growing doggedly in a small pot on the windowsill. She feels the dirt and puts it back out)
RUTH That was Walter Lee. He and Bennie was at it again.
MAMA My children and they tempers. Lord, if this little old plant don’t get more sun than it’s been getting it ain’t never going to see spring again. (She turns from the window) What’s the matter with you this morning, Ruth? You looks right peaked. You aiming to iron all them things? Leave some for me. I’ll get to ’em this afternoon. Bennie honey, it’s too drafty for you to be sitting ’round half dressed. Where’s your robe?
BENEATHA In the cleaners.
MAMA Well, go get mine and put it on.
BENEATHA I’m not cold, Mama, honest.
MAMA I know—but you so thin …
BENEATHA (Irritably) Mama, I’m not cold.
MAMA (Seeing the make-down bed as TRAVIS has left it) Lord have mercy, look at that poor bed. Bless his heart—he tries, don’t he?
(She moves to the bed TRAVIS has sloppily made up)
RUTH No—he don’t half try at all ’cause he knows you going to come along behind him and fix everything. That’s just how come he don’t know how to do nothing right now—you done spoiled that boy so.
MAMA (Folding bedding) Well—he’s a little boy. Ain’t supposed