The Color of Summer: or The New Garden of Earthly Delights

by Reinaldo Arenas

  and all you can think of is your libido!

  RAÚL:

  Well, it’s you and your stupid ideology

  that’s made her this heroic prodigy.

  (Looking through a spyglass)

  My god—somebody’s even erected her a statue—

  though it’s got big feet

  and one heel’s crooked on its shoe.

  FIFO: .

  Enough of this chitchat, you fool—

  we’ve got to think of something to do.

  I know, we’ll do a statue, too, Raúl!

  And not just some silly statuette—

  I want the biggest statue yet!

  A statue of ignominy!

  A statue of infamy!

  A statue of repudiation!

  RAÚL:

  Hey, that’s not a bad solution

  but who’s supposed to do the labor?

  FIFO:

  Rita Tonga—if she’s available.

  RAÚL:

  Available!

  Why, your every wish is her command.

  I’ll get her right on it.

  FIFO:

  Good man.

  While Rita Tonga carves out the statue at full speed, Halisia and her corps de ballet perform the “dance of repudiation.” This is a series of enraged leaps, kicks, spits, and the motions of squashing lice and cockroaches and throwing them into the sea.

  RITA TONGA: (completing the statue and bowing to Fifo)

  Here’s the statue of Avellaneda.

  Look how hideous I made ’er!

  FIFO:

  Yes! What an eyesore!

  This is priceless!

  Rita—this may be your masterpiece!

  RAÚL:

  Boy, is that statue ugly! Uff!

  The spitting image of Gorbachev!

  FIFO:

  How dare you mention that name in my presence!

  He’s the one that got us in this mess.

  RAÚL:

  Yeah, but Raisa’s got a contract out on him, I hear.

  FIFO:

  Hush! Do you want the KGB to hear?

  RAÚL:

  Are you kidding? The KGB and the CIA,

  have—both of them—seen better days;

  no way there’re any agents around here—

  and besides—you think they’d listen to some silly queer?

  (Puts hands on hips.)

  FIFO:

  Yeah, but still . . . you know about loose lips . . .

  Anyway—let’s have a closer look at this.

  (He walks over to the statue of Avellaneda.)

  Oh, no! What a disappointment!

  It’s got feet instead of stumps,

  and tits instead of scorpions—

  and I wanted it to be short and squat.

  This isn’t what I had in mind at all,

  this is not what I meant, at all—

  That mouth, that figure, that haunting smile . . .

  Shit! I wanted a crocodile!

  We cannot idealize the enemy!

  Gimme that chisel—I’ll show you what I mean!

  And you midgets over there—

  get this woman out of here!

  She may call this statue awful,

  but to me it’s way WAY WAY too beautiful.

  While Rita Tonga is being tied up and kicked to a patrol car, Fifo, furious, signs a report denouncing Rita—“the traitor!”—and defaces the statue so that it’s even more hideous than it was before.

  Halisia and her troupe dance among the ruins of what was once the statue. At one point, Halisia, peeking through a hole in the statue, inspires such terror that even Fifo cringes in the arms of Raúl.

  FIFO:

  Yikes! Where’d that ugly thing come from?

  RAÚL:

  Oh, it’s just mad Halisia, hon,

  and her Dance of Repudiation.

  Not to worry, she’s one of the faithful—

  while she dances she sings Fidel! Fidel!

  FIFO:

  There’s nothing more faithful than a statue,

  the only thing that you can trust a secret to.

  (You know, Raúl, I don’t even trust you!)

  So since Halisia’s one of the elite

  let’s give her a special Fifaronian treat—

  a quick dip in a tubful of concrete!

  There follows a fierce attempt to catch Halisia, who, in a series of blinding jetés, kicks Raúl in the belly. Then she leaps, in one bound, into the sea. In the water, she begins to dance the second act from Swan Lake. Under the pretext of saving Halisia, almost all her dancers throw themselves into the sea, but transformed suddenly into veritable swans themselves, they swim away at full speed, leaping like dolphins over the head of Avellaneda (further threatening the stability of her little boat) and arriving in KEY WEST, where they are met with cheers and huzzahs. Halisia, still dancing near the coast, is caught by Coco Salas and brought back.

  FIFO: (to Raúl)

  Wait—she’s no use to us petrified.

  We need her to testify

  against those speedboating vermin.

  HALISIA: (irate, defending her dancers)

  Speedboats, nothing! They were swimmin’!

  FIFO:

  I know that, you ditzy dame,

  but to save face we’ve got to claim

  at the least that they were paddling!

  (Jesus, I can feel my poor brains addling

  from dealing with this crazy old hag—

  not to mention my brother the fag.)

  CHORUS: (singing one of Fifo’s anthems)

  Our victory shall never be forgotten.

  Onward marches the Revolution.

  Give me a C, give me a U, give me a B, give me an A!

  Cuba, Cuba—forever and a day!

  While the hymn is sung over and over, the lights go up on Avellaneda, still sailing onward, and then turn slowly on KEY WEST. The giant movie screen is rolled down again, and on it appears Zebro Sardoya.

  ZEBRO SARDOYA: (on screen)

  And now, ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce the poet Bastón Dacuero . . . And you know, folks, I think the old fellow’s in love—but it’s apparently unrequited. He keeps threatening to “die because he does not die.”

  The screen goes dark and we see Bastón Dacuero on the stage in KEY WEST.

  BASTÓN DACUERO:

  I am a homeless wanderer

  come to the seaside

  to greet you when you arrive . . .

  (The screen lights up again and Zebro Sardoya interrupts Bastón Dacuero:)

  ZEBRO SARDOYA:

  And I’m here to see you sixty-nine,

  you miserable panhandler.

  (The screen goes dark behind Dacuero, who glares at it furiously but continues with his poem:)

  BASTÓN DACUERO:

  I am a homeless wanderer

  wandering from park to park

  to find a place to sleep . . .

  (The screen lights up again.)

  ZEBRO SARDOYA:

  A homeless wanderer, indeed, mister!

  I know about all those checks

  you used to get from Batista!

  (The screen goes dark.)

  BASTÓN DACUERO: (angrier and angrier, but trying to control himself )

  Ay, Carolina, let’s

  go to the country

  to sate ourselves on delicacies . . .

  ZEBRO SARDOYA: (on the screen)

  Delicacies! Oh, please!

  You know you eat like a horse!

  You can down fifteen chickens in the first course!

  BASTÓN DACUERO: (trying to ignore Sardoya)

  I shall wait for you on every corner—

  radiant as an amapola—

  there, where in robes of glory

  you beach your little boat—olé!

  ZEBRO SARDOYA: (on the screen)

  Jesus Christ, give me a break!

  Enough of this coochie-coochie, artsy-fartsy

  stuff—come on,
get it over with and let’s party!

  BASTÓN DACUERO: (in a voice of thunder)

  I am here to sing a welcoming anthem

  to the undying Rose of Villalba

  not to have a mano-a-mano

  with some bald foul-mouthed queen . . . ahem!

  And at that, Bastón Dacuero leaps headfirst at the movie screen on which Zebro Sardoya appeared. But he crashes through the screen and tumbles out on the other side. For a second the only thing we see is the screen in tatters, and on it, the shattered image of Zebro Sardoya, swaying gently.

  CHORUS OF POETESSES: (jumping up and down around the torn movie screen)

  What on earth’s gotten into you two?

  Stop that nonsense right this instant!

  Don’t you know we’re not here for you,

  we’re here for our beloved Gertrudis.

  So behave yourselves—say a novena

  for that poor dear Avellaneda.

  While you’re at it, make a sign of the cross,

  and let’s get Father Gastaluz to give her a pep talk.

  The poet Angel Gastaluz steps up onto the stage in KEY WEST. He is wearing his priest’s habit and around his neck there hangs a gigantic scapular that ends in a sterling-silver cross that keeps getting all tangled up between his legs. In one hand he is carrying a smoking incense-burner with which he seems to be exorcising the ocean and the huge crowd gathered in Key West, applauding him madly. Standing on the stage, the priest untangles himself from the long scapular, whose cross, still on its chain, is hanging down into the water.

  ANGEL GASTALUZ:

  Liberare me O Deus: quoniam intraverunt aquae usque ad animam meae . . .

  Suddenly a shark, apparently still loyal to Fifo, takes the huge silver cross in its mouth and, pulling on the scapular, drags the priest into the ocean.

  ANGEL GASTALUZ: (in the ocean, being towed by the shark)

  Save me, O my God!—for thy waters have penetrated to my very soul . . .

  The poet disappears into the water. Immediately a spontaneous demonstration breaks out in Key West. The demonstrators are carrying big posters insulting Fifo and asking for clemency and freedom for Padre Angel Gastaluz. Now the gigantic movie screen descends, and on it an announcer is saying that the president of the United States is about to arrive at any moment in Key West, and that to support the demonstration and steal a little publicity from Fifo, he’ll be making love, in public, to his beloved rabbit. Tremendous air of expectancy. And now, on the screen, we see Air Force One landing. The door to the plane opens and the president begins to descend the steps, cradling a white rabbit in his arms. The screen goes dark. We see the poet Angel Gastaluz being towed along by the shark. The poet passes alongside Avellaneda’s dinghy, and he desperately makes a grab at it. Miraculously, he snares it, but that turns Avellaneda’s boat around and heads it toward Cuba at full speed. Avellaneda picks up an oar and starts beating at the priest’s hands. He falls back into the water.

  AVELLANEDA:

  Turn loose, turn loose, what are you doing?

  You’re going to drag me back to Cuba!

  Please, Angel, accept your fate—

  make peace with your God, it’s not too late.

  Besides, you know this worldly mire is filed with hate;

  you’re going to a far better place.

  Be brave—that shark is the ferry of Acheron;

  it’ll take you to the Great Beyond.

  Shark and priest disappear in the middle of the ocean, while the lights on the MALECÓNcome up.

  PAULA AMANDA, AK.A. LUISA FERNANDA: (to Fifo)

  Quick, the Orígenes gang has launched a counterattack!

  FIFO:

  Stop them, you idiots! Push them back—

  Grab a stake and drive it through their heart.

  PAULA AMANDA:

  I’ve got a better idea. Call in the official bard—

  the sacred cow, of course, I mean—

  so he can recite his favorite paean

  and bore them all to death!

  FIFO:

  Well, whatever you do, you’d better make it fast!

  There’s no time to lose, I fear;

  I know that when the President’s plane lands,

  he’ll upstage us for sure.

  PAULA AMANDA:

  Not to worry. This old goat

  is guaranteed to sink their boat.

  FIFO:

  I don’t see any old goat—where’d he go?

  PAULA AMANDA:

  Here he is. Odiseo Ruego!

  We see the poet Odiseo Ruego, goateed, making his way along laboriously with the aid of a walking stick and then climbing up on the Malecón. While he recites his poem, on the movie screen we see the President making love to the rabbit.

  ODISEO RUEGO: (addressing his words to Avellaneda, who’s drawing farther and farther away)

  I ask you, lady of exalted lute,

  sailing like an owl in your pea-green boat,

  what it is you’re expecting to do?

  And will your peapod stay afloat?

  Here you can blissfully contemplate

  the poplar trees of Paula Avenue

  through the iron bars of the grate .

  in the prison cell that’s waiting for you.

  As Odiseo is reciting his poem, we see behind him, on the screen, the president of the United States and his rabbit in a wild erotic wrestling match—an encounter that grows more and more frenzied. The president has removed all hisclothes; the rabbit has its entire head rammed up the president’s ass. The president gives a shriek of pleasure. The rabbit gnaws and burrows at the presidential rectum with its teeth and claws, as though trying to tunnel in. The president’s heavy breathing mixes with the rabbit’s squealing.

  ODISEO RUEGO:

  O lady of fruit and other pleasures,

  reach out—here for you are untold treasures.

  Save yourself, lady of the oars,

  don’t sail into that land of whores!

  On the screen we now see the rabbit even more furiously digging and burrowing between the presidential cheeks. Finally, with a little popping sound, the rabbit climbs all the way into the president’s anus. The president gives an ear-piercing shriek of pleasure, and begins to leap and hop about the screen with the rabbit up his ass. Finally, he takes off running, hopping form key to key and giving howls of pleasure—all the way to the White House, where he spatters the white columns with blood.

  ODISEO RUEGO:

  For once up north, how keenly you will yearn

  for the sea’s soft mist

  and the waves’ whisper,

  how hotly, fiercely you will burn

  for the ocean’s warm caress

  of your ample keester . . .

  FIFO:

  What the hell is that idiot babbling about? He’s just stolen the

  whole show and now he’s going on about sea mist and caresses and who knows what nonsense!

  who knows what nonsense!

  PAULA AMANDA:

  It’s what’s called poetic license.

  FIFO:

  As far as I’m concerned that’s no defense.

  PAULA AMANDA:

  But Comandante, it’s really excellent.

  FIFO:

  Bullshit! I’ve had enough of this!

  Poet or not, he can kiss my royal arse!

  I’m gonna feed him to the sharks!

  Fifo runs over to the Malecón and with a single dropkick launches Odiseo into the bay.

  ODISEO RUEGO: (as he sinks)

  O corruption, O witch with hardly any rear,

  your ass is grass,

  your end is near—

  prepare to meet your maker!

  FIFO:

  I think you’re the one that better prepare yourself, you faker!

  As Ruego sinks, Padre Angel Gastaluz appears, now riding the shark that had been pulling him.

  GASTALUZ:

  Get up on this beast I’ve converted to Christianity
,

  and let’s make a run for it.

  The two poets, riding the shark, speed away. The priest guides the shark by pulling this way and that on his long scapular, which he is now using as reins.

  FIFO: (sneering)

  What do I care about those small fry?

  They’re nothing to me—