The Sunset Limited

White: I know you think that I should be thankful and I’m sorry not to be.

Black: Now Professor, I dont think no such a thing.

White: I should go.

Black: I’m diggin a dry hole here, aint I?

White: I admire your persistence.

Black: What can I do to get you to stay a bit?

White: Why? Are you hoping that if I stay long enough God might speak to me?

Black: No, I’m hopin he might speak to me.

White: I know you think I at least owe you a little more of my time. I know I’m ungrateful. But ingratitude is not the sin to a spiritual bankrupt that it is to a man of God.

Black: You dont owe me nothin, Professor.

White: Do you really think that?

Black: Yes. I really do.

White: Well. You’re very kind. I wish there was something I could do to repay you but there isnt. So why dont we just say goodbye and you can get on with your life.

Black: I cant.

White: You cant?

Black: No.

White: What do you want me to do?

Black: I dont know. Suppose you could wake up tomorrow and you wouldnt be wantin to jump in front of no train. Suppose all you had to do was ask. Would you do it?

White: It would depend on what I had to give up.

Black: I started to write that down and put it in my pocket.

White: What is it that you think I’m holding on to? What is it that the terminal commuter cherishes that he would die for?

Black: I dont know. I dont know.

White: No.

Black: You dont want to talk to me no more, do you?

White: I thought you had a thick skin.

Black: It’s pretty thick. It aint hide to the bone.

White: Why do you think it? Why do you think there is something?

Black: I dont know. It just seems to me that a man that cant wait for a train to run over him has got to have somethin on his mind. Most folks would settle for maybe just a slap up the side of the head. You say you dont care about nothin but I dont believe that. I dont believe that death is ever about nothin. You asked me what I thought it was you was holdin on to and I got to say I dont know. Or maybe I just dont have the words to say it. And maybe you know but you aint sayin. But I believe that when you took your celebrated leap you was holdin on to it and takin it with you. Holdin on for grim death. I look for the words, Professor. I look for the words because I believe that the words is the way to your heart.

White: You think that anyone in my position is automatically blind to the workings of his own psyche.

Black: I think that anybody in your position is automatically blind. But that aint the whole story. Because we still talkin bout the rest of them third railers and them takin one train and you takin another.

White: I didnt say that.

Black: Sure you did. They got a train for all them dumb-ass crackers that just feels bad and then they got this other train for you cause your pain and the world’s pain is the same pain and this train requires a observation car and a diner.

White: Well. You can think what you want. You dont need my agreement.

Black: I know. But that aint the way to the trick bag.

White: Well. The trick bag seems to have shaped itself up into some sort of communal misery wherein one finds salvation by consorting among the loathsome.

Black: Damn, Professor. You puttin me in the bag. Where you come up with stuff like that?

White: It was phrased especially for you. For your enjoyment. You see what a whore I am?

Black: No you aint. You a smart man. Too smart for me.

White: I feel the bag yawning.

Black: I wish I knew how.

White: Do you really think that? That I’m too smart for you?

Black: Yes I do. If you can jack you own self around nine ways from Sunday I’d like to know what chance you think I got.

White: I see.

Black: What I need to do here is to buy more time. But I dont know what to buy it with.

White: You dont know what to offer a man about to board the Limited.

Black: No. I dont. I feel like I’m about traded out.

White: Maybe you are. Have you ever dealt with suicides?

Black: No. You the first one. These junkies and crack-heads is about as far from suicide as you can get. They wouldnt even know what you was talkin about. They wake up in pain ever day. Bad pain. But they aint headed for the depot. Now you can say, well, they got a fix for their pain. Just need to hustle on out there and get it. And that’s a good argument. But still we got this question. Just what is this pain that is causin these express riders to belly up at the kiosk with the black crepe. What kind of pain we talkin about? I got to say that if it was grief that brought folks to suicide it’d be a full time job just to get em all in the ground come sundown. So I keep comin back to the same question. If it aint what you lost that is more than you can bear then maybe it’s what you wont lose. What you’d rather die than to give up.

White: But if you die you will give it up.

Black: No you wont. You wont be here.

White: Well. I cant help you. Letting it all go is the place I finally got to. It took a lot of work to get there and if there is one thing I would be unwilling to give up it is exactly that.

Black: You got any other way of sayin that?

White: The one thing I wont give up is giving up. I expect that to carry me through. I’m depending on it. The things I believed in were very frail. As I said. They wont be around for long and neither will I. But I dont think that’s really the reason for my decision. I think it goes deeper. You can acclimate yourself to loss. You have to. I mean, you like music, right?

Black: Yes I do.

White: Who’s the greatest composer you know of?

Black: John Coltrane. Hands down.

White: Do you think his music will last forever?

Black: Well. Forever’s a long time, Professor. So I got to say no. It wont.

White: But that doesnt make it worthless, does it?

Black: No it dont.

White: You give up the world line by line. Stoically. And then one day you realize that your courage is farcical. It doesnt mean anything. You’ve become an accomplice in your own annihilation and there is nothing you can do about it. Everything you do closes a door somewhere ahead of you. And finally there is only one door left.

Black: That’s a dark world, Professor.

White: Yes.

Black: What’s the worst thing ever happen to you?

White: Getting snatched off a subway platform one morning by an emissary of Jesus.

Black: I’m serious.

White: So am I.

Black: Before this mornin. What was the worst thing.

White: I dont know.

Black: Well, let’s pretend you dont know then. Still, do you reckon it was about you? Or about somebody close to you?