Fences

BLACK SCREEN:

TITLE:
AUGUST WILSON’S FENCES

The screen remains black. The sound of

a truck rumbling along a street. Two

men are heard talking:

bono (v.o.):
Troy, you ought to stop that lying!

troy (v.o.):
I ain’t lying! The n*gger had a watermelon

this big. Talking about . . . “What watermelon,

Mr. Rand?” I like to fell out! “What

watermelon, Mr. Rand?” . . . And it sitting there

big as life.

bono (v.o.):
What did Mr. Rand say?

troy (v.o.):
Ain’t said nothing. Figure if the n*gger

too dumb to know he carrying a watermelon, he

wasn’t gonna get much sense out of him. Trying to

hide that great big old watermelon under his

coat. Afraid to let the white man see him carry

it home.

EXT. WYLIE AVENUE, THE HILL, PITTSBURGH—

EARLY SEPTEMBER—MORNING

The rear of the garbage truck, god’s

point of view:
Troy Maxson and Jim

Bono hang on to either side of the

truck as it heads toward its next

collection point.

Troy is fifty-three years old, a large

man with thick, heavy hands; it is

this largeness that he strives to fill

out and make an accommodation with.

Together with his blackness, his

largeness informs his sensibilities

and the choices he has made in his

life.

Of the two men, Bono is obviously the

follower. His commitment to their

friendship of thirty odd years is

rooted in his admiration of Troy’s

honesty, capacity for hard work, and

his strength, which Bono seeks to

emulate.

bono:
I’m like you . . . I ain’t got no time for them

kind of people.

troy:
Now what he look like getting mad ’cause he see

the man from the union talking to Mr. Rand?

bono:
He come talking to me about . . . “Troy Maxson

gonna get us fired.” I told him to get away from

me with that. He walked away from me calling you

a troublemaker. (anxious) What Mr. Rand say?

troy:
Ain’t said nothing. He told me to go down to the

commissioner’s office next Friday. They called me

down there to see them.

The truck halts. Troy gets down and

heads for heavy garbage cans at the

curb; Bono uses Troy’s shoulder to

ease himself down.

bono:
Well, as long as you got your complaint filed,

they can’t fire you. That’s what one of them white

fellows tell me.

troy:
I ain’t worried about them firing me. They gonna

fire me ’cause I asked a question? That’s all I

did. I went to Mr. Rand and asked him—“Why? Why

you got the white mens driving and the colored

lifting?” Told him, “What’s the matter, don’t I

count?”

TITLE:
THE HILL, PITTSBURGH

TITLE:
1957

troy:
You think only white fellows got sense enough

to drive a truck? That ain’t no paper job. Hell,

anybody can drive a truck. How come you got all

the whites driving and the coloreds lifting?

The truck’s white driver watches the

collectors in his side mirror.

troy:
He told me, “Take it to the union.” Well, hell,

that’s what I done! Now they wanna come up with

this pack of lies.

He told me, “Take it to the union.” Well, hell,

that’s what I done! Now they wanna come up with

this pack of lies.

bono:
I told Brownie if the man come and ask him any

questions . . . just tell the truth! It ain’t

nothing but something they done trumped up on you

’cause you filed a complaint on them.

Bono returns the last empty can. Troy

climbs up on the truck.

troy:
Brownie don’t understand nothing. All I want

them to do is change the job description. Give

everybody a chance to drive the truck. Brownie

can’t see that. He ain’t got that much sense.

Bono in place, Troy slaps the truck.

As it starts moving, Troy pulls a

lever and the compactor crushes the

trash.

EXT. SANITATION YARD—AFTERNOON

Men stream out of the yard, Troy and

Bono among them.

How you figure he be making out with that gal be

up at Taylors’ all the time . . . that Alberta

gal?

troy:
Who?

bono:
Brownie!

troy:
Same as you and me. He getting as much as we is.

Which is to say nothing.

Same as you and me. He getting as much as we is.

Which is to say nothing.

bono:
It is, huh? I figure you doing a little better

than me . . . and I ain’t saying what I’m doing.

troy:
Aw, n*gger, look here . . . I know you. If you

had got anywhere near that gal, twenty minutes

later you be looking to tell somebody. And the

first one you gonna tell . . . that you gonna want

to brag to . . . is gonna be me.

bono:
I ain’t saying that. I see where you be eyeing

her.

troy:
I eye all the women. I don’t miss nothing. Don’t

never let nobody tell you Troy Maxson don’t eye

the women.

bono:
You been doing more than eyeing her. You done

bought her a drink or two.

troy:
Hell yeah, I bought her a drink! What that mean?

I bought you one, too. What that mean ’cause I buy

her a drink? I’m just being polite.

bono:
It’s all right to buy her one drink. That’s what

you call being polite. But when you wanna be buying

two or three . . . that’s what you call eyeing

her.

troy:
Look here, as long as you known me . . . you

ever known me to chase after women?

bono:
Hell yeah! Long as I done known you. You forgetting

I knew you when.

troy:
Naw, I’m talking about since I been married to

Rose?

Naw, I’m talking about since I been married to

Rose?

bono:
Oh, not since you been married to Rose. Now,

that’s the truth, there. I can say that.

troy:
All right then! Case closed.

EXT. THE HILL DISTRICT—TROY AND ROSE’S

STREET—AFTERNOON

Troy and Bono make their way down the

street to a narrow house. A pair of

lawn chairs sit on the small front

porch. They take the short cut through

the side alley into the back yard. It

is Friday, payday, and the one night

of the week the two men engage in a

ritual of talk and drink.

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