The Sunset Limited: A Novel in Dramatic Form by Cormac McCarthy Page B

out loud. I dont hear a voice. I dont hear my own, for that matter. But I have heard him.
White
   
Well why couldnt Jesus just be in your head?
Black
   
He is in my head.
White
   
Well I don’t understand what it is that you’re trying to tell me.
Black
   
I know you dont, honey. Look. The first thing you got to understand is that I aint got a original thought in my head. If it aint got the lingerin scent of divinity to it then I aint interested.
White
   
The lingering scent of divinity.
Black
   
Yeah. You like that?
White
   
It’s not bad.
Black
   
I heard it on the radio. Black preacher. But the point is I done tried it the other way. And I dont mean chippied, neither. Runnin blindfold through the woods with the bit tween your teeth. Oh man. Didnt I try it though. If you can find a soul that give it a better shot than me I’d like to meet him. I surely would. And what do you reckon it got me?
White
   
I dont know. What did it get you?
Black
   
Death in life. That’s what it got me.
White
   
Death in life.
Black
   
Yeah. Walkin around death. Too dead to even know enough to lay down.
White
   
I see.
Black
   
I dont think so. But let me ask you this question.
White
   
All right.
Black
   
Have you ever read this book?
White
   
I’ve read parts of it. I’ve read in it.
Black
   
Have you ever read it?
White
   
I read
The Book of Job.
Black
   
Have. You. Ever. Read. It.
White
   
No.
Black
   
But you is read a lot of books.
White
   
Yes.
Black
   
How many would you say you read?
White
   
I’ve no idea.
Black
   
Ball park.
White
   
I dont know. Two a week maybe. A hundred a year. For close to forty years.

The black takes up his pencil and licks it and falls to squinting at his pad, adding numbers laboriously, his tongue in the corner of his mouth, one hand on his head.
White
   
Forty times a hundred is four thousand.
Black
   
(Almost laughing)
I’m just messin with you, Professor. Give me a number. Any number you like. And I’ll give you forty times it back.
White
   
Twenty-six.
Black
   
A thousand and forty.
White
   
A hundred and eighteen.
Black
   
Four thousand seven hundred and twenty.
White
   
Four thousand seven hundred and twenty.
Black
   
Yeah.
White
   
The answer is the question.
Black
   
Say what?
White
   
That’s your new number.
Black
   
Four thousand seven hundred and twenty?
White
   
Yes.
Black
   
That’s a big number, Professor.
White
   
Yes it is.
Black
   
Do you know the answer?
White
   
No. I dont.
Black
   
It’s a hundred and eighty-eight thousand and eight hundred.

They sit.

White
   
Let me have that.

The black slides the pad and pencil across the table. The professor does the figures and looks at them and looks at the black. He slides the pencil and paper back across the table and sits back.
White
   
How do you do that?
Black
   
Numbers is the black man’s friend. Butter and eggs. Crap table. You quick with numbers you can put the mojo on you brother. Confiscate the contents of his pocketbook. You get a lot of time to practice that shit in the jailhouse.
White
   
I see.
Black
   
But let’s get back to all them books you done read. You think maybe you read four thousand books.
White
   
Probably. Maybe more than that.
Black
   
But you aint read this one.
White
   
No. Not the whole book. No.
Black
   
Why is that?
White
   
I dont know.
Black
   
What would you say is the best book that ever was wrote?
White
   
I have no idea.
Black
   
Take a shot.
White
   
There are a lot of good books.
Black
   
Well pick one.
White
   
Maybe
War and Peace.
Black
   
All right. You think that’s a better book than this one?
White
   
I dont know. They’re different kinds of books.
Black
   
This
War and Peace
book. That’s a book that somebody made up,