The Chicano/Latino Literary Prize (43 page)

“I won't be long.”

“Damn right. I'm counting on that.”

“I can't believe he's dead.” Pat Ramos seemed dazed as she absorbed the news about Gus Becerra.

“He sure won't bother you anymore.”

She rubbed the corner of one eye and looked at me. “This probably sounds cruel and heartless—but you know what? I'm
so
glad a gay man killed Becerra. It's like when a woman kills a man who's battered or raped her. Ya basta. We've had enough.”

“Yeah, I know.”

She paused and pushed her black hair from her forehead. “Now you can let someone else use the parking place in front.”

I acted casual. “How often did you see me out there?”

“Every night, through las ventanas.”

“Becerra was bad news for a lot of people around here.” Leaning against the door jamb, I spoke quietly. “Got used to checking up on things. It'll be hard to break that habit.”

Her gaze was direct. “You have to.”

“Pat—”

“You did your job and I appreciate it.” She wore the same determined look Lydia had the night she told me to leave. “That's the end of it.”

I hadn't begged then, and I wasn't about to this time. When I said good night, I didn't even look at her. She closed the door right behind me and I heard the double-bolt click.

Lu eyed me when I got into the squad car. “How'd she take it, Ron?”

“She's relieved.” I reached for a cigarette.

“And you?”

I took a long drag.

“Tough cholo cop.”

“All in a night's work, Lu.”

“I've caught that toughness from you.”

“You
know
it.”

When Lu pulled the squad car from the curb, I glanced back at the apartment building. The miniblinds in Pat Ramos's window were drawn tight. I knew I would never see inside.

Elaine Romero

First Prize: Drama

(The play is set in the present in the dunes of the Southwest border and its memory. Historical and contemporary characters inspired by primary sources: journals, letters and interviews by women of the U.S./Mexican border from the distant and recent past. The protagonist,
MARIA,
recalls her past through conversation with
WOMAN IN THE SAND.)

(MARIA
in blue light.
)

MARIA: I'm seeing him. In the past. I'm just a child. Really tiny. He's enormous. The biggest man in the world. We walk together. By the tide pools. It's easy to lose your balance there because the rocks are rugged and the pools are wet and slick.

He tries to help. He offers me his hand, but I won't take it. Because I'm an independent little girl. And I don't need his help.

(Blackout.)

(JESUSITA,
an older Latina woman, appears.
)

JESUSITA: The truth.

MARIA: I want to be alone. With her. Keep the truth to yourself for a minute.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: You can't stop the truth.

JESUSITA: Want to hear the truth the way I remember it?

MARIA: No.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Yes.

MARIA: Not yet. (
To
WOMAN IN THE SAND.) Spare me. Please.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: I can't.

JESUSITA: (
To
WOMAN IN THE SAND.) You look weak. You can take it on?

WOMAN IN THE SAND: I can.

MARIA:What do you mean—can she take it on?

WOMAN IN THE SAND: She means—

MARIA: Yes.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: You'll see.

MARIA: Well, I don't want to hear another happy-ass story about what wonderful fathers you all had.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: You won't.

JESUSITA: That's not my story.

MARIA: Good.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Go ahead.

JESUSITA: (
To
WOMAN IN THE SAND.) You'll make it to the end?

WOMAN IN THE SAND: I will.

MARIA: What're you two talking about? Take what on? Is there something you're not telling me? (MARIA
looks straight at
WOMAN IN THE SAND
who turns away.
) I want to know everything. Don't hide anything. I'll figure it out. I'm at least that smart.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: You do know everything. It's all laid out for you. It's very easy for you to see. He—

MARIA: He?

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Your “he.”

MARIA: He had to prove to the world he didn't care. And then he had to prove it to me. He was just really macho. Tough. That's all.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Not half as tough as us.

MARIA: You're kidding, right?

WOMAN IN THE SAND: I wish I were.

JESUSITA: My past.

MARIA: She's going back there and we can't stop her?

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Pretty much. (MARIA
resists listening and then finds herself drawn in by the story.
)

JESUSITA: (
Beat
.) We lived in Trujillo when I was little, but when they started to build the lake, the Storrie Lake by Las Vegas, my dad came back and asked for work building the dam. So, we moved back here to Upper Town for awhile. (
Beat
.) My mother got pregnant again, her eighth baby. All girls. Eight girls, trying to have a boy. Only three girls lived. (
Beat
.) I was the first that lived. (JESUSITA'S MOTHER
stands pregnant, holding her back. She lies down. She scribbles something on a pad of paper and hands it to
ABUELA.) In 1918, when I was ten, the bad flu came. A lot of people die on that time. My mother was pregnant when she got sick. And her tears run. (
A doctor works on
JESUSITA'S MOTHER.) (
Pause
.) She was about seven months with the baby. The doctor took care of her and said it was better for her to have the baby than to die with the baby in. So, the doctor gave her something to make her have the baby. She could still talk a little then, so she said:

JESUSITA'S MOTHER: Jesusita, call your tía, tell her that I have my baby.

JESUSITA: That day mi abuela come. Mi abuela deliver it by herself; nobody was with her, just the neighbors, right here in Upper Town.

ABUELA: Push. (
As
JESUSITA'S MOTHER
cries out in pain, her
ABUELA
assists in the birth of the baby. Sound of crying baby.
)

JESUSITA: It was another girl, the last one. I heard that baby cry. The baby girl lasts about an hour, and then she dies. And in a few days, my mother dies. She was thirty-four. (
Two
MEN
enter. They carry off
JESUSITA'S MOTHER
's body.
)

MARIA: (
To
WOMAN IN THE SAND.) What are you guys trying to depress me or something?

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Do sad stories depress you too?

MARIA: I guess, everything depresses me. (JESUSITA
huddles together with her sisters.
)

JESUSITA: I was ten years old when my mother dies, and the other sister was five, and the little one, the little sister, was three years old. We cried and cried and we were sad.

MARIA: (
Seeing
JESUSITA
's past.
) You cried all the time when she left. And there was this big gaping hole in your heart, where she used to be. A place only she could fill. That's how you felt when she died.

JESUSITA: Yes.

MARIA: You wanted to die, too. You wanted to leave this world right along with her.

JESUSITA: I did want to die. But I stayed.

MARIA: That was the first time you felt like dying.

JESUSITA: You understand me. (JESUSITA
brushes her sister's hair.
) We were so sad but mi abuela and mis tías were with us.

MARIA: But it's not the same, is it?

JESUSITA: No, it's not the same. (
Beat
.) We couldn't go to the funeral because it was a big storm, a snow in March. We felt such sorrow. I slept with my sisters and helped them. I remember, I give them a bath and comb their hair. Yes, I clean my sisters when our mother dies. (
Beat
.) There is nothing in the world like your mother. That's your best friend. I never forget her, or forget how she looks, or how she holds me. Never. (MARIA
wraps her arms around herself as if she can feel her mother holding her too
.)

MARIA: I'm sorry.

JESUSITA: It's okay. I'm still here. (
Beat
.) After my mother dies, we go back to the ranch in Trujillo, and mi abuela takes care of us. My daddy came, too. We were all together.

MARIA: No mother. Half a family. You and your dad and your abuela.

JESUSITA: Yes, just him and mi abuela. They treat me different. (
Beat
.) My troubles start when I'm twenty-three. I get pregnant with my boyfriend. He says, “I don't care. I don't care if you are. I don't want to get married with you.” I say, “Okay, then, okay. I do it by myself. I won't bother you.” (
Beat
.) So I never talk to him again. Never. Never. And I don't like him. I hate him.

MARIA: Men are shits.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: María.

MARIA: Well, they are. (MARIA
stops, realizes something
.) And that is the second time you felt like dying. (JESUSITA
nods.
)

JESUSITA: I was getting bigger and bigger, so that my daddy went one night to my abuela's house, and he said, “Who is the father of that baby?” And I say, “I don't know.” (
Beat
.) I say that 'cause I didn't want to tell them. It's hard on me 'cause everybody treats me … I don't know how to say. They treat me different. They get mad with me, everybody, everybody in the house. And there's nothing I can do.

MARIA: Nowhere to go.

JESUSITA: Yes.

MARIA: Trapped inside yourself. Like your skull is holding your mind hostage. Like your body's a cage, and your soul is an animal.

JESUSITA: I tried to run away once. Like you. But I didn't know where I was going. I was just trying to go to the mountains, I think. It was night, and my sisters feel me get up out of our bed. (
Two
SISTERS
appear
.) They wake up, too, and say:

SISTER: What are you going to do?

JESUSITA: I'm running away.

SISTER: We don't want you to run away.

OTHER SISTER: We want you here with us.

JESUSITA: So, I decide to stay. (JESUSITA
kneels. She cries aloud.
) I don't run away, but I pray in the woods where I was taking care of the sheep, crying in the woods, and ask my Lord to take me with Him, 'cause I want to die, I was so ashamed. I was praying and praying for him to take me with Him. (
Beat
.) Take me, God. Just take me. Take me, God. Just take me.

MARIA: (
Hypnotically
.) Take me, God. Just take me. (JESUSITA
places her hand on
MARIA
's shoulder.
MARIA
rocks back and forth. Red light on
MARIA. MARIA
lies stretched out on the ground, holding her arm. The light spills out on her arm, creating the image of blood pouring out.
)

JESUSITA: (
Simultaneously
.) And, I was praying. Take me, God. Just take me.

MARIA: Take me, God. Just take me.

JESUSITA: Praying for him to take me. Day and night. But He didn't.

MARIA: Just let me die.

JESUSITA: I'm still here. Thanks to Him.

MARIA: Please.

JESUSITA: He didn't want me that time.

MARIA: Let me die.

JESUSITA: He wants me in this world. (MARIA
begins to cry. Looking up at
JESUSITA.)

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Tell her, María. Tell her what really happened.

MARIA: Nothing.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Something always happens, or we'd have no stories. Walk back. (WOMAN IN THE SAND
touches
MARIA. MARIA
wears a stunned expression
. MARIA
holds her arm
.)

MARIA: Blood on my arms, spilling out. I can't catch all the blood. I can't stop it. From spurting. Out of my arm. It turns into a man and he laughs at me.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Who is it?

MARIA: I don't know him.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Who is he?

MARIA: I'm not sure.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: What does he look like?

MARIA: He is so huge—the hugest man in the world. (
The
MAN
appears.
He is laughing.
WOMAN IN THE SAND
removes her hand from
MARIA
's shoulder. The laughing ceases.
)

WOMAN IN THE SAND: What happened last night?

MARIA: (
Gulping
.) Last night. Last night, I tried to take my life.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Come here.

MARIA: No.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Look. You will see what I see—yourself suspended in the moment before death.

MARIA: I'm alive. (MARIA
reluctantly crosses to
WOMAN IN THE SAND,
but she does not look
. WOMAN IN THE SAND
points out
.)

WOMAN IN THE SAND: A body without a spirit lies in the surf. Your body. The ocean slaps against your blood-drained arms. Your body waits. For your decision.

MARIA: (
Covering her ears
.) Arms with sand in the grooves. A world of people without ears. Mutants. Aliens. I know.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: Take a look. (MARIA
resists, but then looks in with
WOMAN IN THE SAND.
She sees a
MAN
standing beside her body on the beach
.)

MARIA: What's Raúl doing there standing next to me?

WOMAN IN THE SAND: He's not Raúl. Who is he?

MARIA: I've never seen him in my life.

WOMAN IN THE SAND: You've never seen the world without him. (MARIA
turns her back.
) Why do you turn?

MARIA: You promise me all this magic and then you show me him. (
Beat
.)

You've got nothing new. Nothing. Nothing that I even want.