by Nick Joaquin
CANDIDA: Well, Bitoy—you said your friends were coming just to see the picture.
PAULA: You said nothing about their wanting to borrow it.
BITOY: I’m sorry.
CANDIDA: Did they really like the picture?
BITOY: No—I don’t think so.
CANDIDA: Which is just what we thought. Nobody ever likes that picture.
BITOY [gazing toward PORTRAIT]: I do.
PAULA: But you are an old friend. Other people are not so kind. They say that the picture is beautiful but they do not find it enchanting.
BITOY: Why should they? Art is not magic. Its purpose is not to enchant—but to disenchant!
PAULA: Jesús!
CANDIDA: How impressive you sound!
BITOY: May I come again?
PAULA [smiling]: Do you enjoy being disenchanted?
BITOY: No—but I need to be.
CANDIDA: Come whenever you like, Bitoy. We are always at home.
BITOY: Thank you—and goodbye till then.
CANDIDA & PAULA: Goodbye, Bitoy.
[Exit Bitoy. Paula and Candida leave stairway and begin moving back the chairs and table to their proper place at center with the sofa. From this point, twilight starts and the stage dims very gradually.]
PAULA [as they shift the furniture]: What are we going to do, Candida?
CANDIDA: About what?
PAULA [nodding toward Tony’s door]: About him.
CANDIDA: We must order him to leave this house.
PAULA: Yes—certainly!
CANDIDA: Bringing a woman here—
PAULA: And then lying about it!
CANDIDA: Oh, we have been too lenient!
PAULA: Well, we needed the money.
CANDIDA: He can take his money somewhere else—and at once! He shall leave this house immediately!
[Tony’s door opens and he comes out, wearing his coat and carrying his hat. He now looks gentle and rather wistful. The sisters stiffen and assume their coldest expressions. Candida raps on the table.]
Mr. Javier, please come over here. We have something to say to you.
TONY [approaching; guiltily fingering his hat]: Yes, I know. And there’s something I would like to say to you too.
CANDIDA: There is nothing you can say that would interest us!
TONY: Look, if a man asked you to save his soul—would you refuse?
CANDIDA: What nonsense!
PAULA: Why should any man ask us to save his soul?
CANDIDA: Who are we—God?
TONY: You are good, both of you.
CANDIDA: We have had enough of your flatteries, Mr. Javier—
PAULA: Both of us!
CANDIDA: And of your lies!
TONY: Then you refuse?
PAULA: We refuse to be flattered and deceived over and over again!
TONY: But look here—I’m not flattering you, I’m not deceiving you! Oh, please believe me! This house is my salvation! This is the one place in the world where I’ve wanted to be good, where I’ve tried to be good! Yes, you smile—you don’t believe me. Oh, I deserve that all right! I know I’m bad, I know I’m wicked—but that’s just the point! I know what I am. Isn’t that the beginning of salvation?
CANDIDA: That you recognize your wickedness?
TONY: And feel very ashamed of it.
PAULA: Then why do you continue? Why do you do these things?
TONY [with a shrug]: The habits of a lifetime.
PAULA: And you do them here, in this house that you call your salvation!
TONY: Oh, I get so disgusted sometimes!
CANDIDA: With our house?
TONY: With myself.
PAULA: You get disgusted with yourself—but it is our house you defile!
TONY: Yes . . . Remember the first time I came here? Oh, I was in a beautiful condition! I had just lost my job and I had been thrown out of the filthy flop-house where I was staying because of a fight. So I came here. I had seen the sign at the door and I thought this was just another Intramuros flop-house. But as I came up those stairs I suddenly felt as if I was coming home at last. Everything looked so clean, everything was so quiet. This was the home I never had; the home that nobody ever gave me. Oh, I was drunk—I had been drunk for a week—and I felt so ashamed of myself standing here in my dirty shoes and my dirty clothes that—you know what I did? I spat on the floor! Now, do you understand?
CANDIDA [coldly]: No.
TONY: Of course not! How could you? You were born in this house, you grew up in this house! Do you know where I was born? Do you know where I grew up? Listen: When you were going off to your fine convent-school in your fine clean clothes, I was wandering about in the streets—a little child dressed in rags, always dirty, always hungry. And you know where I found my food? In the garbage cans!
PAULA [sinking weakly into a chair]: Oh no!
TONY: Oh yes! And do you know what it’s like to go begging in the streets when you’re still just a baby? Do you know what it’s like to have your own brute of a father driving you out to beg? Can you even imagine that kind of a childhood?
CANDIDA [sinking down too, on the sofa]: We know you have had a hard life—
TONY: You know nothing! [A pause, while he scowls at the memory. Then the scowl fades into a bravado smile.] Oh, I’m not crying over anything! I never cry! I haven’t had a hard time really. I’ve always been strong and tough, and I’m clever, and I learn fast. Besides, I’m very good-looking, you know, and I’ve got a lot of charm. Heck, I don’t care if that sounds vain—it’s the truth! Ever since I was a kid, people have been fascinated with me—they pick me up and give me the breaks. Nice people, too—people with class. Well, just to be completely honest, I’ll admit that when they get to know me they drop me quicker than a hot brick! But what the heck—somebody else always comes along and picks me up again. I’m irresistible! All I have to do is smile and look sort of pathetic—you know: very young, very brave, and very broke. They always fall for that. Oh, I’ve been using my charm to get me places—and it sure has got me far! Before I was twenty, I had been to America.
PAULA [in admiration]: To America!
TONY [his chest swelling]: San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago, New Orleans, Mexico City, Havana, and New York!
PAULA: But how wonderful!
CANDIDA: [quite impressed herself]: How did you do it?
TONY: Oh, an old American couple picked me up and took me along. They were nuts about me. They said I looked like the Infant Samuel.
CANDIDA: Did you have a nice time?
TONY: Wow! The time of my life! Until they dropped me. And then—oh, Jesus!—did I have to slave! But I didn’t mind. It was all part of my education. I was educating myself; I was running away from home. I’ve been running away from home, you know, all my life—as far away as I can get. But even America wasn’t far enough. [He glances wistfully around the room.]
No fooling—this house is the farthest I’ve got away from my childhood . . .
This house and the piano—any piano . . .
[The wistfulness darkens again into a scowl.]
But of course you ladies would say that I never left home! As far as you’re concerned, I’m still vermin, I’m still trash, I’m still the Tondo slums!
[He whirls around at PORTRAIT.]
See how your father looks at me! And you wonder why I do the things I do here!
CANDIDA: To spite us?
TONY: And to spite this house—and everything in it!
CANDIDA: And you say this house is your salvation!
PAULA: But do you like it or do you hate it? You change so suddenly from one moment to another. How can we know when to believe you? How can we know when you are serious?
TONY [suddenly grinning again]: How can you? I never know myself!
CANDIDA: Oh Paula, this is all just the same as usual. He is only making fun of us!
TONY: Oh no—honest, I’m not!
CANDIDA: Were you serious when you asked us to save your soul?
TONY: [clapping a hand to his brow]: Oh Lord, did I ask you to do that?
[The sisters smile helplessly.]
PAULA: You certainly did!
TONY [bending down]: And will you?
CANDIDA: Are you serious?
TONY [throwing his hands up]: Maybe I am and maybe I’m not. Oh, the hell with it! Does it matter anyway? Look, just tell me what answer will please you and I will give you that answer.
CANDIDA: Is that your sincerity?
TONY: I’m a poor man—I can’t afford sincerity. I have to suit my moods to the moods of my betters. That’s one of the very first things I learned—and now I’m an expert. Oh, it’s not hard. Nothing I feel ever goes deep enough to make me cry anyway. So, I’ll change my moods and I’ll change my colors if it’s to my advantage and if it gets me what I want. That’s my sincerity! So, come on—tell me: do you want me to be serious or do you want me to be funny?
CANDIDA: Oh, you are impossible!
TONY: Then, you won’t save my soul?
CANDIDA: It is too late.
TONY [glancing at his watch]: Oh Lord—yes! And I’ll be late for the show! I must rush!
[He claps his hat on and runs to stairway where he suddenly stops & turns around.]
Oh, I forgot—you ladies had something to say to me. [He shrugs and looks pathetic.] Well, you may as well say it now.
[The sisters look at him; then at each other; and then down at their hands. There is a moment’s silence.]
CANDIDA [looking up, but not toward Tony]: We merely wanted to say, Mr. Javier, that . . . that we do not accept the testimony of intoxicated persons.
TONY [gravely]: I see. [A pause.] And is that all?
CANDIDA [now looking toward him]: That is all, Mr. Javier.
PAULA: Good night, Mr. Javier.
TONY [grinning and lifting his hat high above his head]: Good night, ladies. Good night, sweet ladies. Good night, good night!
[He puts his hat on with a swagger and runs down the stairs. The sisters burst into laughter.]
PAULA: Oh, he is funny, is he not?
CANDIDA: It would have been unjust to ask him to leave on such doubtful evidence.
PAULA: And besides, we need the money.
CANDIDA [rising]: Oh, money, money, money! We must act, Paula—we must act at once. And I know just what we can do. [She picks up newspaper.]
PAULA: Your new plans?
CANDIDA: Yes. Listen to this. “Fifty centavos for every rat caught.” Now, I wonder where this Bureau of Health and Science is? I shall go there and offer them, my services. And, Paula—
PAULA: Yes?
CANDIDA: You will give lessons.
PAULA [horrified]: Lessons!
CANDIDA: Lessons in the piano, lessons in Spanish. We will put up a sign.
PAULA [rising]: Oh no, no!
CANDIDA: Now Paula, remember—we must be bold, we must become women of the world. Did you see that newspaper girl? And she is younger than we are. We, also, can make money. It is the only way we can save this house, Paula. We must show Manolo and Pepang that we can support ourselves, that we do not need their money.
PAULA: But lessons for whom—girls?
CANDIDA: Girls for the piano, and some men for Spanish. So many of these young students are eager to learn the language nowadays. And men have more money, you know.
PAULA: They would only laugh at me.
CANDIDA: Nonsense! Be bold! Drink a little wine before you face them. Talk in a loud voice. If they become fresh, call a policeman. We could arrange to have a policeman nearby during the first days.
PAULA: You will not be here, Candida?
CANDIDA: I shall be working at this [glancing at newspaper] this Bureau of Health and Science. If they are so eager to pay fifty centavos for one rat, how they will welcome somebody who is willing to catch as many rats as they want. And you know how well I do it. Oh Paula, imagine being paid to do something you enjoy! They will be amazed to see what an expert I am—and my work will be extended. I shall be appointed to clear the entire city of rats. Of course, then, I would hardly have time to do the actual catching anymore. I shall be just a kind of director—with a desk, a map, and a staff of workers . . .
PAULA [giggling]: And they will all be calling you Miss Marasigan!
CANDIDA: And I shall make them all wear uniforms. [She turns wistful.] Still, from time to time, I should want to do some of the actual catching myself—but only in the more difficult cases, of course . . .
PAULA: And how much will you earn?
CANDIDA: I must consult Manolo on what salary to ask. Oh, they have a sea of money rolling about in the government!
PAULA: Yes indeed. Just look at the newspapers—always talking of those people who made millions!
CANDIDA: Oh, I have it all planned out. We will make money, Paula—we will make money! And we will show Manolo and Pepang that we can keep up this house with our own efforts.
PAULA [rapturously]: And they will not be able to turn us out of here anymore! We will not be afraid anymore!
[She sinks down on the rocking chair.]
CANDIDA [sitting down at the piano]: We shall stay here till we die! You and I and papa. Yes—and papa! He will get well, he will come out of his room, we will be happy again—just the three of us. It will be like the old days again . . .
[She begins to play, very softly, the waltz from the “Merry Widow.”]
PAULA [leaning back, and rocking the chair to the music]: The old days . . . Yes, how happy we were—just the three of us—you and I and papa . . . In the mornings, we went to church, the three of us together. Then, after breakfast, you went off to market; I stayed here to clean the house, while papa read the newspapers. When you came back from market, we would all go down to the patio to take the sun—papa in his rocking chair, smoking his pipe, and you and I walking round and round the fountain, arm in arm, reciting poems or singing, while all about us the pigeons whirled . . . Then papa would fall asleep in his chair, and we would go up and do the cooking. After lunch, the siesta; and after the siesta, the merienda. Then papa would go out for his afternoon stroll, and you and I would do the washing and the ironing. After the supper, the Rosary—and then we played the piano for papa or he read to us from Calderon. If visitors dropped in, we played “Tres-siete.” Remember how we would get so excited over the game that we would play on and on till past midnight? Oh, you were a shameless cheater, Candida—and what a riot when you and papa played against each other!
[She sits still, smiling. Then she rises, humming the waltz, and begins to dance around the room, holding her skirts in her hands. As the music ends, she whirls and slowly sinks down to the floor. There is a moment of silence—Candida at the piano, her face lifted; Paula on the floor, her smiling face lifted too, her hands folded on her lap. The room is dim but not dark, the forms of the sisters and of the furniture and the squares of the balconies being clearly discernible.]
CANDIDA: Can we bring back those days again?
PAULA [lost in thought]: Huh?
CANDIDA: Wake up, Paula!
PAULA: What days?
CANDIDA: Those days before . . . before father had his accident—before he painted that picture.
PAULA: Oh Candida, we were happy enough then—and we did not know it! We destroyed the happiness we had . . . Oh, why did we do it, Candida, why did we do it!
CANDIDA: Hush, hush, Paula—what is done is done. Go and turn on the light.
PAULA [rising and going to the switch, which is supposed to be on the left corner of the “fourth wall”]: Oh, why did we do it! Why did father have that accident! Why did he e
ver paint that picture!
CANDIDA: All this unpleasantness will pass, Paula. We will be happy again. All we need is money—money and security. We will be at peace again—the three of us . . . Father will forgive us for what we did. And we will be all together again, we will be happy together again—the three of us . . .
PAULA [in voice of alarm]: Candida, there is no light!
CANDIDA [looking around]: What! Try again!
PAULA: I have turned this switch a dozen times. There is no light!
CANDIDA [rising quickly]: Try the switch on the stairway—I will try this one in the corridor.
[Paula goes to stair-landing: Candida steps just inside the doorway at right. After a moment, she comes in again and looks at Paula across the room.]
No light either on the stairs?
PAULA: None! How about in the corridor?
CANDIDA: None also. And I saw no light in father’s room.
PAULA: Oh Candida, they have cut off our light!
CANDIDA: Sh-h-h!
[The sisters fearfully come to center of stage where they huddle together.]
PAULA [whispering]: Shall we call up the company?
CANDIDA: It would be useless . . .
PAULA: Then call up Manolo, call up Pepang! Tell them what has happened to us! They must send us the money right away! Oh, how could they do this to us! How could they possibly allow us to suffer this horrible, horrible humiliation!
CANDIDA [bitterly]: And how shall I call them up, Paula? Am I to go down and borrow the telephone at the corner drugstore?
PAULA: But that is where we always telephone—
CANDIDA: But how, how can I go down to the street now! Think, Paula—everybody who lives on this street knows by now that we have no light, that the company has cut off our light!
PAULA [in mounting horror]: Oh Candida . . . Oh Candida!
[Trembling, they glance behind them at the open balcony.]
CANDIDA: Go and shut those windows.
PAULA [shivering]: Oh no, no! They would see me! The neighbors, Candida—they will be all gathered at their windows, watching our house, pointing at our house—the only house without light in the whole street! Oh, Candida—they are all there at the windows, pointing and laughing and jeering!