The Refugee Hotel
Page 5
RECEPTIONIST:
I’ll get you a record player right away.
The RECEPTIONIST leaves and returns immediately with a record player. He sets it up.
CONDOR PASSES:
(to CAKEHEAD, proudly) RCA Victor. I made the needles for those. At the factory in Santiago.
FAT JORGE pulls the record out of its cover and hands it to the RECEPTIONIST. The RECEPTIONIST puts it on. “El Aparecido” begins to play. Everyone listens in silence. MANUEL raises his left fist. The others follow, except for JOSELITO . The RECEPTIONIST listens intently.
FAT JORGE:
(once song is over) Thank you. That song is banned in Chile right now.
RECEPTIONIST:
That’s remarkable music! Thank you for letting me listen to it! We’ll keep the record player here now, by the lava lamp. You can listen to your records all you want. All you want. Remarkable music. Remarkable.
Scene Three
Later that night. Everyone is asleep in their rooms. FAT JORGE sings the Inti-Illimani song in the lobby, wine bottle in hand. His nightmare continues. He takes on the same position, of being hung by the wrists from the ceiling. FLACA and MANUEL also take on the same shapes as before. The cast help to create the soundscape by moaning, coughing, praying, and weeping.
WOMAN (played by FLACA):
Where are we?
MAN:
In the bowels of this country.
Scene Four
FAT JORGE wakes up screaming. He runs to the window in the lobby, opens it, and pukes. FLACA runs down the stairs.
FLACA:
Are you okay?
FAT JORGE:
Yeah, I’m alright.
Pause.
FLACA:
Maybe if you talk about it you won’t dream about it anymore.
FAT JORGE:
I won’t talk about it.
FLACA:
Where’s this new man you say you’ve become?
FAT JORGE:
I won’t talk about it. I can’t take it.
FLACA:
Fat Jorge, you MUST take it.
FAT JORGE:
Jesus Christ, woman, can’t you see I’m weak?! Look at me, woman, I’m weak! I’m not like you!
FLACA:
We’re all different—
FAT JORGE:
No. I’m not talking about differences. I’m talking about fucking weakness.
FLACA:
I was more prepared for what happened than you—
FAT JORGE:
Woman, understand what I’m trying to tell you: if I had taken that oath I would have broken it. Fast.
FLACA:
I—
FAT JORGE:
I’m like a child, a broken bone—
FLACA:
And if you don’t deal with what happened—
FAT JORGE:
Flaca, I’m a traitor.
FLACA:
Because we’re in exile?
FAT JORGE:
No.
Pause.
FLACA:
You broke.
FAT JORGE nods.
FLACA:
You gave someone away.
FAT JORGE:
Time stood still. Or went on forever. I don’t know. I couldn’t tell.
FLACA:
Who did you give away?
FAT JORGE:
I told them about my colleague.
FLACA:
What did you tell them?
FAT JORGE:
He’s the one they wanted. I told them details of his family. Of his hang-outs. Of his life.
FLACA:
You mean Cesar?
FAT JORGE nods.
FAT JORGE:
It must have worked. ’Cause they let me go after that.
FLACA:
They probably would have found him anyway—
FAT JORGE:
I don’t know. All I know is that by that time I had to talk.
FLACA:
Everybody talked, Fat Jorge, everybody. No one was prepared for what happened.
FAT JORGE:
Except you. You were prepared.
FLACA:
No, I wasn’t.
FAT JORGE:
You didn’t talk.
FLACA:
I couldn’t.
FAT JORGE:
But I could. And I did.
FLACA:
We’re here now, Fat Jorge. Here.
FLACA goes to the bedroom. After a moment, FAT JORGE follows.
Scene Five
Much later that night. All the adults are asleep. MANUELITA and JOSELITO are in the lobby of the hotel. JOSELITO has the telephone receiver in one hand, the SOCIAL WORKER’s business card in the other. He has his suitcase.
JOSELITO:
I took that lady’s card from Mom’s purse. She’ll help us.
MANUELITA:
You have to pay for that phone.
JOSELITO:
No, you don’t.
MANUELITA:
Do so. You have to pay for everything here. It’s called capitalism.
JOSELITO:
(mocking) “It’s called capitalism—”
MANUELITA:
That’s what it’s called!
JOSELITO:
You’re Daddy’s little parrot. All you do is repeat.
MANUELITA:
No! Dad explained it!
JOSELITO:
Go look for some money. At the old gringo’s desk
MANUELITA goes to the reception area and looks around.
MANUELITA:
I can’t see anything.
JOSELITO:
Don’t talk so loud, you idiot! They’ll wake up.
MANUELITA:
I’m gonna tell Mom you called me an idiot.
JOSELITO:
Crybaby.
MANUELITA:
I am. I’m gonna tell her.
JOSELITO:
Come on, Manuelita. You’re lucky I’m even including you in my plan. Here. Hold the phone.
MANUELITA does so. JOSELITO goes, suitcase and all, towards the reception area and looks for some money. He finally gives up. He sits on his suitcase.
JOSELITO:
Hang up the phone. We can’t phone her.
MANUELITA does so. She goes and sits on JOSELITO ’s suitcase too. JUAN quietly descends the stairs, hoping to use the phone. He stops halfway when he sees MANUELITA and JOSELITO . He listens to the rest of the scene. The children don’t know he’s there.
MANUELITA:
Now what are we going to do?
JOSELITO:
I don’t know. Can’t you see I’m thinking?
MANUELITA:
Oh.
JOSELITO:
We never should have come with them. We should have just stayed with Grandma.
MANUELITA:
You think so?
JOSELITO:
They’re crazy.
MANUELITA:
Really?
JOSELITO:
They’re crazy and they’re communists.
MANUELITA:
I don’t think they’re crazy. They were in jail, that’s all.
JOSELITO:
Why do you think they were in jail?
MANUELITA:
’Cause.
JOSELITO:
’Cause why?
MANUELITA:
’Cause of the coup.
JOSELITO:
’Cause they’re communists. Criminals. Bad people. Get it?
MANUELITA:
They’re not bad people.
JOSELITO:
Yes, they are. Good people don’t leave their kids behind just like that. With no word.
MANUELITA:
They couldn’t get us word ’cause they were political prisoners and they weren’t allowed to—
JOSELITO:
First of all, if they were good people they wouldn’t just run off and do bad things while they have children to raise. They wouldn’t h
ave ended up in jail and got beaten up and stuff if they were good—
MANUELITA:
It’s not their fault that Chile was taken over by the military—
JOSELITO:
Yes it is! If they just minded their own business then none of this would have happened and we wouldn’t have been left alone with Grandma for all those months and now we wouldn’t be here with even more crazy people.
Pause.
MANUELITA:
Wasn’t that weird to see Mom on the plane with those handcuffs?
JOSELITO:
Yeah.
MANUELITA:
And she looks so different.
JOSELITO:
Skinny.
MANUELITA:
And her nipples were cut off.
JOSELITO:
She’s makin’ that up.
MANUELITA:
No. I saw it.
JOSELITO:
Liar.
MANUELITA:
Just ’cause you don’t wanna look doesn’t mean they’re liars.
Pause.
MANUELITA:
All these military guys raped her—
JOSELITO:
Shut up.
MANUELITA:
Okay.
Pause.
JOSELITO:
They had her handcuffed to the airplane seat ’cause she’s bad.
MANUELITA:
Really?
JOSELITO:
Yes. Really.
Both of them just stare ahead. JUAN remains. The rain continues to pour.
Scene Six
The next morning. CALLADITA and the RECEPTIONIST are in the lobby of the hotel with the vacuum cleaner. The RECEPTIONIST is teaching CALLADITA how to use it.
RECEPTIONIST:
That’s it. Press here. This button here. (CALLADITA does so.) Presto.
RECEPTIONIST:
Now look. You pick up the hose here and you move it around the floor like so. See? Now you try it.
CALLADITA does so. At first she almost sucks up her own dress into the vacuum. After some practice, she starts to get it. She enjoys herself.
RECEPTIONIST:
Atta girl. Quick learner.
CALLADITA keeps vacuuming.
RECEPTIONIST:
Hey! (turning off the vacuum) Maybe the next time that social worker comes around I can tell her that you can take the cleaning lady’s place here. The lady quit after you guys got here, but I wouldn’t take it personally. You’ll take her place and that social worker won’t have to find you a job. Whaddya think?
CALLADITA smiles and nods.
RECEPTIONIST:
Good. I’m just going to pop out and buy a newspaper. (He starts to leave, then turns around just before going off-stage.) My name is Jackie.
He leaves. CALLADITA vacuums for a few moments. She goes to the phone and picks it up. The sound of the dial tone fills the theatre. JUAN descends the stairs.
JUAN:
Are you on the phone?
CALLADITA jumps back, startled by JUAN’s presence.
JUAN:
Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you.
CALLADITA continues to stand there, the phone in her hand.
JUAN:
Are you on the phone?
CALLADITA shakes her head no.
JUAN:
Oh.
CALLADITA still stands there, the phone in her hand.
JUAN:
When you’re done, let me know.
CALLADITA hands him the receiver.
JUAN:
Oh. Thank you. I figured out the times. I can phone La Chueca now. Wait till I tell her I escaped and came to Canada! Ha! My baby is going to die when I tell her I’m bringing her here! How do you use this thing?
CALLADITA points at the slots for coins.
JUAN:
Shit. Shoulda known. You have to pay for everything here, eh?
CALLADITA nods. The RECEPTIONIST enters with his newspaper.
JUAN:
I need to call Chile. I need to call my girlfriend in Chile!
RECEPTIONIST:
What’s the number? Show me the number.
CALLADITA leads JUAN to the reception desk and points at the pad that the RECEPTIONIST is holding out.
JUAN:
This is the number.
The RECEPTIONIST hangs up the public phone and pulls out a phone from behind his counter.
RECEPTIONIST:
(dialing) Operator? Long distance call to Chile, please … 238709 … (passing the phone to JUAN) There you go. It’s ringing.
JUAN:
Oh my God. Hello? Is this La Huahua’s Deli? Yes, is Miss Natalia Sandoval there? I’m calling long distance; please let her come to the phone. Please. Thank you … Hello, Chueca? Baby, you better sit down. What do you mean who’s this? It’s Juan! Yes, Juan! I’m calling you from Canada! Yes! Canada! No, I’m not joking! I ran away from the jail and I ended up on a Swedish ship and now I’m in Canada! Of course I haven’t lost my marbles! No, Chuequita, this is totally legit. I’m going to write you a long letter explaining everything, but right now I want you to know that I’m bringing you here. That’s right. I’m bringing you here very, very soon … What do you mean you can’t? … No. Tell me now. No. Tell me right now. Chueca, I’ve been sitting in jail for months thinking about you and then sitting in a ship for weeks thinking about you, and now I finally have you here on the phone. Don’t disrespect me. Tell me now. Now … Chueca, the truth never hurts. Just tell me the brutal truth. Don’t lie … What? No. No. No … No, Chuequita, don’t go. No, Chuequita, I can forgive you anything. No. Don’t go. Chuequita. Don’t.
JUAN stands with the receiver in his hand. The sound of Chueca hanging up the phone. Static. A dial tone. The RECEPTIONIST takes the phone from JUAN, listens to the dial tone and hangs up. JUAN stands in a total daze.
JUAN:
This can’t be happening.
CALLADITA motions to the RECEPTIONIST to do his own thing. The RECEPTIONIST pretends to read the newspaper. CALLADITA takes JUAN to the couch.
JUAN:
This can’t be happening. Nope. Nope. Nope. This isn’t happening. This can’t be true.
She shacked up with my lazy brother. He stands on the street corner all day with his buddies whistling at the girls. She was doing my brother the whole time she was standing in line at the jail bringing me empanadas. My brother.
Oh, God. Here it comes. The pain. Here it comes. Oh, shit.
CALLADITA:
Rock. Like this.
RECEPTIONIST:
She talked.
CALLADITA and JUAN rock. FAT JORGE and CONDOR PASSES descend the stairs.
FAT JORGE:
Alright, boys. Time to go on our job search. (seeing JUAN and CALLADITA rocking) What are you two doing?
CALLADITA:
Just rocking. That’s all.
FAT JORGE:
Oh. Juan—She talked! SHE TALKED! CALLADITA TALKED!
MANUELITA, JOSELITO , FLACA, and CAKEHEAD come barrelling down the stairs.
FLACA:
She talked?!
CALLADITA nods.
FLACA:
Oh my God! Talk again! Talk again!
CALLADITA:
Hello, my name is Isabel Paez de la Rosa.
Everyone gathers around her and hugs her, squealing.
JUAN:
You sounded so natural when you talked that I totally forgot you’re mute!
FAT JORGE:
Let’s have a toast!
FLACA:
No! Fat Jorge, you can’t get drunk all the time!
FAT JORGE:
Who said anything about getting drunk?
FLACA:
No. You guys go on your job search—
MANUELITA:
Uncle Juan, are you okay?
JUAN:
Why do you ask?
JOSELITO:
Oh, no. He looks like he’s gonna start cryin’. Just like everybody else.
&nbs
p; JUAN:
No. I’m not going to start crying.
CAKEHEAD:
If you wanna cry, comrade, cry for fuck’s sake.
JUAN:
I said no. I will not cry.
JOSELITO:
Good.
FLACA:
Go on your job search! Go!
The men exit.
Scene Seven
FLACA and CAKEHEAD hug CALLADITA. The SOCIAL WORKER and BILL O’NEILL enter.
BILL:
Comrades. Pat good news.
FLACA:
Good news?
BILL:
Very much good news.
CAKEHEAD:
Tell us what the good news is already.
CALLADITA:
Yeah!
BILL:
Okay—Oh, God me. (to CALLADITA) You speak.
CAKEHEAD:
Yes! Now tell us what the good news is!
BILL:
Okay. We find job at Fat Jorge. Steel mill. Work all night. Maintenance work. Job at you, Flaca, fish cannery, work all day. We find you home. Projects in Strathcona. That Chinatown.
FLACA:
Okay, okay. When do we start?
SOCIAL WORKER:
Have you told them about the school for the kids?
BILL:
Oh, yeah. We find school for kids. In Strathcona too. You move tomorrow.
FLACA:
Tomorrow?
BILL:
Yeah. Interfaith Church donate furniture, bed, table, and chairs, things more. You and Fat Jorge work next week.
FLACA:
Sounds good. Very good. Thank you. Thank you very much.
BILL:
Cakehead. Work all night on a bakery. Bake bread.
CAKEHEAD:
Okay. Okay. I can bake bread. Sure. I can do that.
BILL:
And you and Calladita live on top Condor Passes and Juan. In projects also—
SOCIAL WORKER:
Tell them about the other jobs—
RECEPTIONIST:
Wait a minute. You got them jobs?
SOCIAL WORKER:
Yes—
RECEPTIONIST:
Because Kaladeeda has a job. I told her she could be the new cleaning lady here.
SOCIAL WORKER:
Really?
RECEPTIONIST:
Yup. She’s hired.
BILL:
(to CALLADITA) You work here as cleaning lady?
CALLADITA:
I am? That’s great!
SOCIAL WORKER: