Resurrection Blues Read Online Free PDF Page A

absolutely covered.
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    EMILY: Why?
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    SKIP: Well, let’s see. There is this sort of revolutionary terrorist.
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    EMILY: Terrorist? A real one?
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    HENRI: Actually, he himself is apparently not a . . .
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    SKIP: The man is totally vicious! His gang have killed some cops and blown up government buildings. And he goes around claiming to be the . . . like, you know, the son of god. Turning on Henri nervously .—Is there something I can help you with, sir . . . I mean, what is it you want?
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    EMILY: I’m confused—what’s the product? To Henri: What are all those soldiers doing down below?
    SKIP: They always have soldiers . . . even around weddings . . . rock concerts . . . anything.
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    HENRI: This is a bit different, they are there in case of a protest.
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    EMILY: Protest about what?
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    SKIP: Sir? We are here under an agreement with General Barriaux, and you are interfering with our work; I’m afraid I really must ask you to leave . . .
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    Soldiers enter, dark local men; two carry spades, and a
long beam which they set down. One carries a submachine
gun and a chainsaw—he stands guard.
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    EMILY: What’s this now?
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    SKIP: They’re putting up a little set. To the soldiers: Very good, gentlemen, but don’t do anything yet, okay? Just sit down and wait a few minutes, okay? We’ll be with you in a few seconds, okay?
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    The soldiers nod agreeably but begin unpacking tools—
an electric drill, bolts. One of them lays a beam across
another.
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    HENRI: You know it’s to be a crucifixion?—
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    EMILY: A crucifixion. Really. But what’s the product? Calling to the soldiers: Wait gentlemen! Don’t do anything till I tell you, okay?
    The soldiers nod agreeably and one of them begins
digging a hole. Skip grasps the shovel handle.
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    No, wait, fellas; for one thing, I’ve got to decide on the camera angle before you build anything, okay?
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    The guard shifts his gun nervously.
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    Oh well, go ahead.
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    They proceed with the digging as she turns to Skip
with beginning alarm.
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    Will you kindly explain what the hell is going on here? And what am I shooting, please?
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    SKIP: . . . It’s a common thing with murderers here . . . they attach the prisoner . . .
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    EMILY: Attach? What do you mean? To what?
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    A very short burst from an electrical drill interrupts.
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    Please stop that!
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    Drill cuts out and in the momentary silence the
Captain, to Henri . . .
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    CAPTAIN, patting his own stomach: Also you have the best for the gas . . . “Schultz’s”!
    HENRI: Captain, please—I inherited the company but I have very little to do with running it. I am a philosopher, a teacher . . .
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    SKIP: Darling, you must understand—this fellow has blown up a number of actual buildings, so they’re quite angry with him . . .
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    EMILY: Wait, Skip—I don’t know where I got the idea but I thought somebody was shooting a movie and we were just hitchhiking onto it . . .
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    SKIP: There’s no movie.
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    EMILY: So . . . is that a cross?
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    SKIP: Well . . . Takes a fortifying breath . In effect.
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    EMILY: It’s really a crucifixion ?
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    SKIP: Well . . . in effect, yes, it’s very common here . . .
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    EMILY: “In effect”—you mean like with nails?
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    HENRI: That’s correct.
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    SKIP: It is not! I was told they’ll most likely just tie him onto it! To Emily: They do that quite a lot in this country. I mean with death sentences.
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    EMILY: But he’s not actually going to like . . . die . . .
    SKIP, frustration exploding: I cannot believe that Atcheson . . . !
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    EMILY: Atcheson told me to get here, period! He didn’t say “die”! Nobody dies in a commercial! Have you all gone crazy?
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    SKIP: We’re only photographing it, we’re not doing it, for god’s