Summary:
Loureen asks how often a man like Samuel gets damned to hell and actually goes. Florence jokes with her that she sounds like the old ladies who sneak into crack houses when they claim to have been doing church work, and Loureen tells her to be serious, that she is very near her edge. The phone rings, but Loureen panics when she goes to answer it, wondering if it's Samuel's mother and saying that she knows what happened. They let it ring. Loureen says that she should be mourning and praying and planning the burial but that her mind is fixated on what she'll wear in her television interview where she shares her "horrible and wonderful story" (8). Whimpering, she says that Samuel made her a killer, which is totally against her gentle nature. She repeats herself, saying, "I'm a killer, I'm a killer, I'm a killer" (8).
Florence tells her not to use that word, that she doesn't want it getting around. Loureen asks if she thinks she'll go to jail, if she'll get the death penalty, and Florence says that people have been jailed for less severe offenses. Florence starts in on Loureen, asking if she expected congratulations, asking why she had to "go and lose [her] mind at this time of day, while [Florence] got a pot of rice on the stove and Edgar's about to walk in the door and wonder where his goddamn food is" (9). She says he'll be on her about everything she didn't do during the day and how clean Loureen keeps her home by comparison.
Loureen, understanding her friend's distress, squeezes her hand and apologizes, saying what's done is done. Florence asks her to swear on her breast, and Loureen says she swears on both of them. Florence accepts her story, worried, and says that he must have done something awful. Loureen says she just couldn't take it anymore, and Florence asks why she couldn't have just waited for her to help her pack and escape.
Loureen describes the jubilant feeling she has, the sense that she should be feeling "remorse or regret or some other 'R' word," (10) but that she doesn't. Instead she describes feeling a massive weight lifted off her shoulders. Florence gets upset by that, saying that Loureen broke their pact, that they'd agreed to leave together when things got bad. Florence doesn't know what to do now. Loureen goes on to describe how everyone always told her to keep her place, to not say anything, all this time not knowing why Samuel was afraid of her using her voice.
Florence says she fears she will never get the words out, and that she will grow to resent her friend. Loureen tells her she's been there before, and Florence says that she wishes she could relax, saying that Edgar has never been as violent as Samuel but that "he sure did take the better part of [her life]" (13). Florence tells her that's not true, he hasn't yet, but Florence says she has to think of the children. Loureen tries to tell her that you can think of a million reasons not to leave, so Florence tells her to come upstairs with her to speak her words to Edgar. Loureen says she can't do that, and Florence resigns herself to the fact that her days aren't going to be any different.
Florence tells Loureen that she can sweep up the ashes, that no one will care that he's gone. Loureen says people will start calling soon and asking about him. Florence asks: "What's your crime? Speaking your mind?" (14). Ignoring her, Loureen wonders if she should mail the ashes to his mother. She says she can't just throw him away like nothing happened, but Florence says that she saw nothing but some ash, that she just assumed Loureen burned some chicken.
Loureen says she should call the police, and Florence asks if she's going to tell them about all the times they didn't help, about all the nights Loureen stayed with her because she was afraid to be with Samuel. Loureen realizes her friend is right, and then begins wistfully saying goodbye to things related to Samuel, like the "fatty meats and the salty food," "the smell of his feet, his breath and his bowel movements" (15).
She decides she'll let the police know in a day or two, and asks Florence if she wants to stay for dinner. Florence says she has to get back to the kids, Edgar, and the pot of rice she left on the stove, but that she'll come by tomorrow. Loureen asks if she can come for dinner, and Florence says Edgar wouldn't allow it, but that she'll come by for cards. The women have a long hug before Florence leaves. Loureen contemplates the ashes and then sweeps them under the rug and sits down to eat dinner.
Analysis:
The power of words continues to be a main theme, as Loureen reflects on her belief that she actually did damn Samuel to hell. Referring to him as "a man like Samuel" is an important move, as it situates him in a class of actors who wield the hegemonic power. Nottage is more concerned with systems of power than morally good or bad individuals; the play urges us to see Samuel not simply as a flawed individual but as a product of a patriarchal system that has given him power over Loureen. Her awe over actually succeeding in getting rid of him is so great because she is well aware that the hegemonic class is essentially untouchable.
Loureen continues to battle with what she thinks she should be feeling/thinking and what she is actually feeling/thinking. She thinks she should be thinking about plans for his burial, but really she is imagining herself, on television, telling her story. This in itself is interesting, as it seems to point to an even deeper desire in Loureen to speak her truth. Having just achieved the impossible by employing her words, she might now sense that more magic could come if she talks about it with a wider audience. Similarly, while she thinks she should be feeling regret or remorse, she is actually feeling joy. Given what we know about their relationship, this comes as no surprise, but the particular comparison is interesting. She says that she feels the way she did on the night of prom, when she and Samuel slept together for the first time. It could be a straightforward comparison between two moments of pure joy, or it could be a more nuanced comment about desire (the desire that she now has for her new life reminds her of the desire she felt long ago, on the night her and Samuel were first together). In any case, the comment is striking, as it shows that there can—and in almost all cases, are—be good parts of a really bad thing.
A powerful moment occurs when Loureen says that Samuel made her a killer. Her confusion over doing it is apparent—of course, given the nature of the "killing," Loureen can't even say for certain that she did in fact kill him. (We see evidence of that in her muddled attempts to explain the situation to Florence, the way she keeps wavering between I don't know what happened, I think I did it, I can't be certain.) Furthermore, she can't seem to wrap her head around the fact that the "gentle" child she was has turned into a murderer. That triple repetition of "I'm a killer" serves to emphasize Loureen's disbelief, as though she is convincing herself of this new identity. But the key lies in the phrasing of the first part: Samuel made her a killer. She isn't one, she didn't want to be one, but she was made into one by her husband. This is a compelling response to Nottage's central exploration: there is no fairness in sentencing Loureen to death row when you consider that her husband drove her to do it. Samuel abuses her for years and the only way to free herself is to kill him, which would send her to jail. Violence breeds more violence. No one wins.
Florence's burst at Loureen, asking why this had to happen today and what she's supposed to do about Edgar, reveals her deep worries about being stuck in her own bad marriage. Florence's apparent annoyance at Loureen killing Samuel "at this time of day" is really just the projection of her own fear: if her friend is free, what does that mean for her? She begs Loureen to come upstairs and get rid of Edgar the way she did Samuel, knowing full well that she is the only person who can get her out of her situation. She doesn't heed Loureen's advice that you can make a thousand excuses before actually getting up and leaving, and she says herself that she can't imagine anything being different. Florence is still unable to prioritize her own needs and embrace the life she wants and deserves. By the end of the play, when she returns home without a changed mind or heart, and says that Edgar won't allow her to join Loureen for dinner the next day, we are left with the sad feeling that things probably won't change for her.
Still, even in her concerns for herself, Florence remains a loyal and good friend to Loureen. She makes her see that she can't call the police, as they have failed her so many times before and will surely only fail her again. She tells her to be careful about throwing around the words killer and murderer—as the play shows us, words are powerful tools—and she tells her to essentially go on with her life as normal, that no one will even care that Samuel is gone. If anyone asks, Florence will say she saw some ash she assumed to be a burned dinner. Repeatedly, we see the women coming to each other's aid and protection when no one or nothing else will. Even at the end, with resentment brewing, and the bleak reality of Florence's continued servitude weighing on her, she holds her dear friend close, and says she will be back tomorrow.
