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IN THE TIME OF THE BUTTERFLIES/ EN EL TIEMPO DE LAS MARIPOSAS

A play

by Caridad Svich

Based on the novel by Julia Alvarez

This play was commissioned and produced in the author’s Spanish-language version under Jose Zayas’ direction by Repertorio Español/Spanish Repertory, New York.

Rene Buch, Artistic Director.

This bilingual version is for the Mixed Blood Theatre production scheduled for April 2013 in Minneapolis, MN under Jose Zayas’s direction. Jack Reuler, Artistic

Director.

Contact: Caridad Svich c/o Elaine Devlin Literary Inc., Plus Entertainment, 20 West 23rd Street, 3rd Floor, NYC, 10010; (212) 206-8160; e-mail: edevlinlit@aol.com or csvich21@aol.com And Julia Alvarez c/o Susan Bergholz Agency, NY, e-mail: susan@susanbergholz.com

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‘The Memory of Butterflies’

Julia Alvarez in her novel In the Time of the Butterflies (1994) weaves an intimate, complex, time-shifting tale of four sisters and their political awakening as activists under the Trujillo regime in the Dominican Republic. Based on the true story of the Mirabal Sisters, Alvarez’s novel considers with respect, affection and tenderness the quotidian lives of Minerva, Patria, Maria Teresa and Dede from the time they are girls to when they are women. Haunted by the knowledge that Minerva, Patria and Maria Teresa were murdered in 1960 by Trujillo government-backed assassins, the novel is a memory piece narrated by the surviving sister Dede as she recounts her family’s story to a young American woman. Although the story that Alvarez relates from history is weighted by the untimely, unjust end of these women’s lives, the novel is remarkably immediate and possessed of a luminous, graceful radiance and lightness of tone. Told in the imagined voices of the sisters through alternating chapters, the novel is comprised of diary entries, drawings, letters and sections of narrative that travel back and forward across historical time. Alvarez, in conjuring the voices of the sisters and their family, conveys with warmth the common everyday disagreements and entanglements among siblings while charting the defiant, heroic acts of resistance that play a significant part in their lives. In the post-script to the novel, Alvarez explains how the writing of the novel was for her an act of questioning, and how through the process of writing, “the characters took over, beyond polemics and facts,” and how “she began to invent them.”

Writing a play is also an act of invention. Rather than replicate Alvarez’s prose and dialogue, I too have sought as a writer to find my own site for the imaginary to be released, and for these characters, these sisters, to find new life. Given that the story is based on fact, there is unquestionably for me as a writer a profound debt to the lives of these real women and the legacy they left behind. There is also the complicated and necessary imaginative leap that needs to be taken to negotiate the facts in and of themselves with Alvarez’s respectful and enchanting inventions. The intimate, reflective spaces that Alvarez creates in her novel are impossible to mimic when translating this story to the stage. For one, the novel exists in and of itself as a work of artistry, and therefore, mimicry alone would not do justice to these women’s lives or to Alvarez’s work as writer. If one is to make a play for the theatre, then it too needs to exist on its own and find its distinct voice and sensibility.

Theatre is intimate and public, but unlike a novel is always in time. The spaces that prose allows are significantly different than what the theatre demands. Thus, my task as a playwright working with Alvarez’s novel has been to re-re-invent for myself the beautiful, willful and sad story of these vibrant and complicated women, and position their story within a heightened theatrical frame. The creation of the frame for me has in

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part been historical. The fact that the surviving sister carries the memories inside of her and the task too of recording the family history for generations, a fact that also frames Alvarez’ novel, has been a liberating one for me as a dramatist. The present interrogates the past in this play but also sometimes creates its own resonant space for memories to reverberate. In doing so, music becomes a central sonic template, for, of course, music plays a key role in accessing memory, in placing moments in historical and emotional time, and in tapping into emotion.

In this play, the present of the Dominican Republic and the new sounds and rhythms which inform and invigorate its musical landscape comment upon the older rhythms of the island under Trujillo’s regime. The DJ chorus in my play is of course an invention, a narrative and theatrical device, to set up the different temporal modes and languages possible for the play. Reggaeton and hip-hop and creolized musical forms comment and clash with boleros and merengues from the 1940s and 1950s in the present-day choral sections of the piece. The spirit of the Dominican Republic becomes embodied in the fluid, liquid voice of the chorus that beckons the audience to remember the past and the vitality of citizens refusing to bow down to oppression against all odds. Choral passages alternate with intimate memory scenes between the sisters and scenes between Dede and the American Woman, who too is finding her own voice as an artist and bicultural individual throughout the play. The result is a memory piece inside a memory piece, a story inside many layers of stories, a play governed by the motion of butterflies that flutter and land, and rise and fall, leaving their incandescent beauty behind.

I offer In the Time of the Butterflies to the Mirabal Sisters and the people of the Dominican Republic, to Julia Alvarez and the inspiration her delicate, passionate prose has given me to create my own work, and to the audience, the public that makes theatre community, and reminds practitioners that what we do in this politics of art is a always call for action: a call to move society forward.

This play is for the Mirabal sisters and their families.

Caridad Svich

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'La memoria de mariposas'

Julia Álvarez en su novela En el tiempo de las mariposas (1994) teje un relato íntimo, complejo, de desplazamiento de tiempo sobre cuatro hermanas y el despertar de su consciencia política como activistas bajo el régimen de Trujillo en la República Dominicana. Basada en la verdadera historia de las Hermanas Mirabal, la novela de Alvarez considera con respeto, afecto y ternura la vida cotidiana de la Minerva, Patria, María Teresa y Dede desde que son niñas hasta cuando son mujeres. Minerva, Patria y María Teresa fueron asesinadas en 1960 por asesinos del Gobierno de Trujillo. La novela es una historia narrada por la hermana superviviente Dede. Al pesar de que la historia que Alvarez relata tiene un final intempestivo e injusto contra las vidas de estas mujeres, la novela es extraordinariamente inmediata y poseedora de una cualidad luminosa. Alvarez cuenta la historia de las hermanas a través de la alternancia de capítulos. La novela se compone de entradas de diario, dibujos, cartas y secciones de narrativa que viajan atrás y adelante a través del tiempo histórico. Alvarez, en las voces de las hermanas y su familia, expresa con calor los desacuerdos cotidianos común y enredos entre hermanas contra la cartografía de los actos desafiantes y heroicos de resistencia que desempeñan un papel importante en sus vidas. En el “post-script” de la novela, Alvarez explica cómo la escritura de la novela fue para ella un acto de cuestionamiento y cómo a través del proceso de escribir, "los personajes asumieron, más allá de la polémica y los hechos," y cómo ella "empezó a inventarlos."

Escribir una obra de teatro también es un acto de invención. En lugar de replicar la prosa de Alvarez y su diálogo, he procurado como dramaturga encontrar mi propio sitio imaginario para que estos caracteres, estas hermanas, encuentren la nueva vida. Dado que la historia se basa en hecho real, hay sin duda para mí como escritora una deuda con la vida de estas mujeres y el legado que dejaron atrás. También existe el salto imaginativo complicado y necesario que debe adoptarse para negociar los hechos por sí mismos con las invenciones respetuosos y encantadoras de Álvarez. Los espacios íntimos, reflexivos que Alvarez se crea en su novela son imposibles de imitar al traducir esta historia al escenario. Por ejemplo, la novela existe de por sí como una obra de arte, y por lo tanto, mimetismo por sí sola no haría justicia a la vida de estas mujeres o al trabajo de Álvarez como escritora.

El teatro es íntimo y público, y limitado por el aspecto del tiempo. Un miembro de la audiencia no puede volver a leer un capítulo o tejer fragmentos de un diario en su mente. Los espacios que permite la prosa son significativamente diferentes de lo que las demanda el teatro. Así, mi tarea como dramaturgo con la novela de Álvarez ha sido a re-re-inventar para mí la hermosa, deliberada y triste historia de estas mujeres vibrantes y complicadas, y posicionar su historia dentro de un marco de teatro. La creación del marco para mí ha sido en parte histórico. El hecho de que la hermana sobreviviente Dede lleva las memorias dentro de ella, un hecho que también Álvarez utiliza en la novela, ha sido liberadora para mí como dramaturga. El presente interroga el pasado en esta obra, pero también a veces crea su propio espacio resonante para que los recuerdos puedan reverberar. De este modo, música se vuelve una plantilla central en la obra. Por supuesto,

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música desempeña un papel fundamental en el acceso a la memoria, en la colocación de momentos en el tiempo histórico y emocional y en el aprovechamiento de los sentimiento profundo.

En esta obra, el presente de la República Dominicana y los nuevos sonidos y ritmos que informan su paisaje musical comentan sobre los ritmos más antiguos de la isla bajo régimen de Trujillo. El coro del DJ en mi obra es, por supuesto, un dispositivo de invención para configurar los idiomas y diferentes modos temporales de la obra. Reggaeton y hip-hop comentan y entran en conflicto con los boleros y merengues desde la década de 1940 y 1950. El espíritu de la República Dominicana se consagra en la voz líquida del coro que atrae al público y le hace recordar el pasado. Pasajes corales se alternan con escenas de memoria íntima entre las hermanas, y escenas entre Dede y la mujer estadounidense, que también encuentra su propia voz a lo largo de la obra. El resultado es una pieza de memoria dentro de una pieza de memoria, una obra de teatro que se rige por el movimiento de las mariposas y como se elevan y caen, dejando su belleza incandescente sobre la tierra.

Ofrezco En el tiempo de las mariposas a las Hermanas Mirabal y el pueblo de la República Dominicana, a Julia Álvarez y la inspiración que su prosa me ha otorgado para inventar y crear mi propia obra de teatro, y a la audiencia: el público que hace la comunidad de teatro, y nos hace recordar que el arte siempre es político - una llamada a mover la sociedad hacia adelante.

Caridad Svich

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Figures: ADELE “DEDE” (OLDER), guardian of memory, in the suspended present [actor in 50s-60s]

DEDE (YOUNGER), in the past, from the ages of 23 to 35 [actor in 20s-early 30s].

MINERVA, her sister, la Mariposa, from the ages of 12 to 34 [actor in 20s-early 30s]

PATRIA, her older sister, from the ages of 22-36 [actor in 30s]

*MARIA TERESA “MATE,” her youngest sister, from the ages of 10-25 [actor in 20s]

AMERICAN WOMAN, a fiction writer of Dominican descent, from New York [actor in 20s]

DJ, fluid DJ of the airwaves in present and past time; also plays GENERALISMO “EL JEFE/EL CHIVO/THE GOAT” TRUJILLO, dictator of the Dominican Republic from 1930-1961; VIRGILIO MORALES, revolutionary, friend of Minerva and Dede, and RUFINO DE LA CRUZ, the Mirabal’s driver the day they died. [actor in 30s-40s]

Time: 1938-the suspended present.

The setting: A garden of memory in the Dominican Republic.

Notes: The play may be performed without an interval. The role of “Dede” should preferably be played by two actors. Melody to original song “Muevete” may be obtained by contacting the author, or the lyrics may be re-set by another composer. *”Mate” is pronounced like the Argentine tea: mah-teh.

Historical Note: Patria Mercedes Mirabal (born 1924), Maria Argentina Minerva Mirabal (born 1926) and Antonia Maria Teresa “Mate” Mirabal (born 1935) were political dissidents who opposed the dictatorship of Rafael Trujillo. They were part of the Movement of the Fourteenth of June. Their code name was “The Butterflies” (Las Mariposas). Minerva and María Teresa Mirabal were imprisoned and tortured. While in prison they were constantly raped. Three of the sisters' husbands were incarcerated at La Victoria Penitentiary in Santo Domingo. On November 25, 1960, Trujillo sent men to intercept the three women after they visited their husbands in prison. The unarmed sisters were led into a sugarcane field and executed along with their driver, Rufino de la Cruz. Dedé Mirabal, who was not on the trip with her sisters that day in November, was not assassinated and has lived to tell the stories of her family, and preserves her sisters; memory through the Museo Hermanas Mirabal. On December 17, 1999, the United Nations General Assembly designated November 25 (the anniversary of the day of the murder of the Mirabal sisters) as the annual date for the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women in commemoration of the sisters. This day also marks the beginning of the 16 days of Activism against Gender Violence. The end of the 16 Days is December 10, International Human Rights Day.

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Special thanks to Marco Antonio Rodriguez and Yolanny Rodriguez for guidance with the rhythms of Dominican Spanish, and to Jose Zayas for continued faith in the work.

Primera Parte

Prólogo: Invocacion

El presente. En la radio, el DJ gira un cuento al compas de un reggaetón.

DJ: Muevete, mi gente. Muevanse!

E’ta e’ la voz de la radio dominicana

Trayendo lo mejor de la bachata, merengue, reggaetón y hip-hop,

Pa’ que lo sepa’!

Aqui tenemo’ las voces que candelean la candela,

saltan la cula culebra,

Y levantan lo’ espíritu’ de la’ tumba.’

Escucha, mi gente,

Escucha en esta noche

Hecha historia

Por aquella’ hijas maravillosas

Mariposas

que dejaron sus alas rota’ en una cuneta,

Pa’ que nosotro’ pudieramo’ ahora

Cantar.

Oye la voz de nuestra’ voces.

Muevete, mi gente! Muevanse!

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Scene 1.

Day. Out of time, in ghostly memory. DEDE (Younger), PATRIA, MINERVA and MARIA TERESA are in the garden. A butterfly flutters. Minerva catches it.

MINERVA: One.

PATRIA: No.

MINERVA: In my hand.

YOUNG DEDE: Let me see.

MARIA TERESA: It’s trembling.

MINERVA: Quick. The jar.

PATRIA: Minerva.

MINERVA: What?

PATRIA: Let it go.

MINERVA: I want it for my collection.

MARIA TERESA: What are you going to do with it?

MINERVA: Nothing. Just look.

YOUNG DEDE: You’re gonna be like one of those old ladies that collect everything.

PATRIA: Ay, Dede. The things you say…

MARIA TERESA: Well, if I were going to collect anything, it’d be shoes. For me: red shoes!

PATRIA: Ay, Maria Teresa!

MARIA TERESA: I simply adore shoes. What’s wrong with that? I’d like to have millions of them.

PATRIA: I don’t understand you.

MARIA TERESA: That’s because you’re so serious, Patria.

PATRIA: Someone has to be.

MINERVA: (refers to butterfly) It’s fluttering.

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YOUNG DEDE: It’s dancing.

MINERVA: Yes?

YOUNG DEDE: See?

MARIA TERESA: We should have music.

MINERVA: Want to dance, Maria Teresa?

MARIA TERESA: Uuuy yes! I’d like to dance all the songs from all the centuries.

PATRIA: Ay, I don’t know who you take after, child.

MARIA TERESA: No one. I’m unique. When I die, I’ll be the last of my species.

PATRIA: Girl, don’t say such things!

MINERVA: Patria. Calm down.

PATRIA: I’m perfectly calm. She’s the one who…

YOUNG DEDE: Apologize to your older sister. Go on.

MARIA TERESA: But I didn’t say anything!

YOUNG DEDE: Go on.

MARIA TERESA: …I’m sorry if I said anything that made you upset.

PATRIA: … You have to understand: words don’t just stay in the air (when they’re said); they have an effect.

MARIA TERESA: Where?

PATRIA: Here and everywhere.

Pause.

MINERVA: Give me your hand.

MARIA TERESA: What?

MINERVA: Let’s dance.

MARIA TERESA: But there isn’t any music.

MINERVA: We don’t need music to dance, girl.

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MARIA TERESA: Well, if we’re going to dance, I want to dance a merengue.

PATRIA: Maria Teresa!

MARIA TERESA: Why not?

PATRIA: Mom doesn’t like that music. She says that’s the kind of music women who… (you know)

MARIA TERESA: Trujillo says it’s everybody’s music, that it belongs to all of us.

YOUNG DEDE: What does he know?

PATRIA: Dede, he’s the president. He’s a good man. Everyone says so.

YOUNG DEDE: Well, I don’t like the way he looks. When I see his picture in the paper, it sends a shiver down my spine.

MINERVA: Why?

YOUNG DEDE: I don’t know.

MINERVA: Strange.

YOUNG DEDE: Maybe it’s nothing. You know how it is. Sometimes a person has reactions that don’t mean anything.

PATRIA: Everything means something.

YOUNG DEDE: Ay, Patria, it’s nothing. Just things I feel sometimes…

PATRIA: (in jest) … As if you had a vision?

YOUNG DEDE: Ay, please, let’s not have an inquisition about this! I don’t even know the man. Trujillo is there in his mansion, and we’re here in the garden. That’s all.

MARIA TERESA: Maybe he’ll buy me some expensive shoes one of these days. And a beautiful dress.

YOUNG DEDE: Who?

MARIA TERESA: Trujillo.

PATRIA: Maria Teresa, what’ going on in your head, girl? Dad can buy you those things.

MARIA TERESA: I know, but, he could…

PATRIA: Always with your head in the clouds.

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MINERVA: Come on. Are we going to dance or not?

MARIA TERESA: Okay. But if we’re gonna dance, I want Dede and Patria to dance, too.

PATRIA: Ay, Mate!

MARIA TERESA: …Let’s dance

ALL: (completing the sentence, a shared ritual) As if the world never come to an end.

Music is heard: a Dominican merengue from the 1940s. The sisters dance.

As they dance the stage becomes filled with the projection of butterflies that move through the air, as if they too were dancing with the four sisters.

The sisters spin out from the stage, until only Dede (younger) remains.

Dede (older) walks in, and for an instant, across time, observes Dede (younger).

A moment.

PATRIA, MINERVA, MARIA TERESA (from off, shout) Dede!

YOUNG DEDE: Wait for me!

Dede (Younger) runs out.

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Escena 2

Cambio de las luces. Cambio de tiempo hacia el presente. Dede (mayor) en el jardín.

DEDE (Mayor): A vece’ no me acuerdo lo que es real, y lo qué no es. ¿Siempre jugábamos asi, o e’ lo que yo me imagino…?

MUJER AMERICANA entra desde otro lado del jardin.

¿Quieres un cafe?

MUJER AMERICANA: No. Estoy bien. Gracia’. Agradezco que pudiera’ hacer tiempo para verme.

DEDE (Mayor): Pero si a mi me encantan las personas que escriben! Todo eso de inventarse cuentos y hacerle un bien a la humanidad me fascina.

MUJER AMERICANA: Si, bueno, pero de eso a…

DEDE (Mayor): ¿Contar nuestra historia?

MUJER AMERICANA: …Si es que la voy a contar…

DEDE (Mayor): Mira, estas aquí, estas como en tu casa. Ya sabes. Todo lo que yo pueda hacer…

MUJER AMERICANA: Gracias, Doña Dede. De verdad que estar aquí en este jardin, ver esta casa, el museo de sus hermanas… nunca pensé que….perdone que me emocione.

DEDE (Mayor): Ay, por favor, las emociones es lo único tenemos algunas veces. Algunos días somos pura emoción. Andamos asi, a flor de piel…

MUJER AMERICANA: Especialmente aquí.

DEDE (Mayor): Eso si. La Republica Dominica es como una isla de emociones. Emociones y contradicciones. Nos faltara muchas cosas, pero en eso, no hay quien nos gane.

MUJER AMERICANA: Como poder contarlo todo…

DEDE (Mayor): Un poquito cada vez, ¿no? Despues de todo, contar las cosas es un privilegio. Cuantas personas no quisieran poder poner en el papel lo que ha pasado… Mirame a mi. Todos los años, las personas vienen. Cada noviembre, hablo de nuevo sobre la tragedia.

MUJER AMERICANA: Debe ser-

DEDE (Mayor): No. Nunca. Para mi es importante mantener vivo el recuerdo. Minerva, Patria y Maria Teresa…ellas existen todavía en la sangre de esta tierra. Los años pasan.

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La gente…no se acuerdan como era en aquel entonces cuando Trujillo estaba en el poder. Hay una generación entera que… ¿Tu dice que tu ere dominicana?

MUJER AMERICANA: Bueno, sí, pero …

DEDE (Mayor): De los Estados Unidos.

MUJER AMERICANA: Recuerdo cuando mis padres me mandaron aquí cuando yo era niña. Ello’ querían que conociera mis primos y el re’to de la familia. Yo no entendía ni papa. Todo era tan lento. Mucho má’ lento que en los Estados Unidos. La espera en la línea en el aeropuerto, el viaje en el carro desde el aeropuerto hasta la ciudad… "Cuando vamo’ a llegar," les decía. Mis primos se reian… "Chill out, cuz, ya vamos a llegar. Tranquila." Y subian la bachata (en la radio) y siguian bebiendo su refre’co rojo, y yo pensaba "¿Qué ‘toy haciendo yo aquí?" Pero, despué’ de una semana, no quería irme. Pensé: "Hay una parte de mí aquí. Hay una parte de mí que nunca he conocido."

DEDE (Mayor): Y cuánta veces has vuelto?

MUJER AMERICANA: ¿Desde aquel entonce’? Varias veces. Cada vez que vengo tengo la misma sensación que tuve cuando era niña.

DEDE (Mayor): ¿Qué paisito ma’ lento?

MUJER AMERICANA: Tarda un tiempo para aplatanarse… Sólo manejando en la ruta…con las calles sin nombres…

DEDE (Mayor): Minerva pensaba ir algún dia a los Estados Unidos.

MUJER AMERICANA: ¿Verdad?

DEDE (Mayor): Ella tuvo un sueño loco. O quizas fui yo la que tuve el sueño loco. Como he dicho, hay tanta’ cosa’ en el pasado que se entrelazan en lo que queríamos, lo que nuestros amigos nos dijeron, en lo que escribiamos en nuestro diarios…

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Escena 3: el diario de Minerva

Día. 1938. MINERVA tiene 12 años de edad. Ella camina a través del jardín, con su diario en la mano. Ella se detiene y escribe algo. Ella lleva un uniforme de colegio

Catolico.

Proyección de la fecha 1938 escrita a mano mientras ella dice

MINERVA: 1938. Querido Diario,

Aquí estoy en el colegio Catolico donde nos han mandado mama y papa.

Las mariposas bailan en el aire como en el jardín de la casa,

Pero aquí parecen que tienen menos espacio para volar.

Sus alas se enredan entre las rejas de las ventanas del colegio,

Chocan contra la campana de la capilla,

Y se esconden en el fondo del jardín donde las flores crecen salvaje.

Proyeccion: alas de mariposas que se estallan contra las rejas de las ventanas.

Las siento al mi alrededor. Quiero bailar con ellas.

Pero las monjas no me dejan.

Proyeccion: imagen de una monja en la distancia. Como una foto media borrada en la memoria.

Dicen que tengo que ser obediente, juiciosa… Esas palabras me sacan de quicio.

No porque no lo sea. Me esmero en ser buena estudiante y buena persona,

Pero, epa, el dia ‘ta tan lindo, ¿ porque no disfrutar del sol y de las mariposas?

Proyeccion: un porta-retrato de Sinita, media borrado por el tiempo.

Acabo de conocer una muchacha muy seria. Se llama Sinita Perozo.

Las otras muchachas se rien de ella porque no tiene dinero.

Me da rabia que la traten asi….No es justo.

Ya van a ver toditas ellas…cuando yo sea abogada…hare todo en mi poder para que se haga justicia.

¿Sabes lo que me cuenta Sinita?

Que cuando Trujillo estaba en el ejército,

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Proyeccion: la imagen de Trujillo cuando era joven.

hizo que todo el mundo que estuviera en su camino desapareciera,

asesinados bajo la luz fría de la luna.

.Proyeccion: la imagen de la luna, como dibujada por una niña en un papel de cartulina.

Como sacado de una novela, ¿verdad?

Al principio me dio trabajo creerle a Sinita.

No porque ponia en duda lo que me dijo, sino porque aquí Trujillo es como un Dios.

Sinita dice: Tu va a ver, Minerva. Tu va a ver.

Y de verdad, que poco a poco, veo…

Proyeccion: en la mente de Minerva, el jardín del colegio crece.

Los arboles se vuelven gigantes y feroces. Las flores tiemblan.

Las mariposas chocan contra las rejas del jardín.

Los colores de las alas – azules, verdes, naranjas – se caen a la tierra como gotas de lluvia extraña. Esta es como una visión que Minerva tiene del futuro.

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Scene 4.

Time shifts to the present. American Woman is seated. Dede (Older) walks in with a plate of dulce de coco and sets it on a small table.

OLD DEDE: Minerva could see it all. And when she put her mind to something, there wasn’t anyone that could stop her. First with that girl Sinita, and then…all the rest. She was right. Trujillo was a sonofabitch. I can say it now… now that I’m old, I can say whatever I want. I used to tell her: “Write whatever you want in your diary, but what happens if one of these days somebody discovers what you’re up to. You’re playing with fire.”

The other day a little boy stopped by to ask me about my sisters. He wanted to know what it was like back then in the 1940s. He made it sound like ancient times. Like the 1800s or something. When there were horse drawn carriages, and people on mules, and the like. I suppose that for him it is. After all, the world now…is at the touch of a key on the computer. I think: What do my sisters mean to him? Patriotic figures. Brave women on a commemorative stamp. People in old dresses in a history book.

AMERICAN WOMAN: I don’t think he thinks that.

OLD DEDE: You know what he said to me. “Why didn’t they kill you too that day in November?”

AMERICAN WOMAN: He didn’t-

OLD DEDE: It was merely a question…. Well…a rather mature one for a little boy to ask, but…he asked it with absolute innocence. Without knowing what he was really asking. I looked at him for a moment…in thought…and after a while I said “Look, child, I’m alive, because someone had to tell our story.”

A moment.

Want a dulce de coco?

AMERICAN WOMAN: I’m on a diet.

OLD DEDE: American women are always on a diet. They’re constantly starving themselves and for what? There are people in the world who are really starving. And all of you: obsessing about your weight and your figure and obtaining a perfect image. When are you going to enjoy life?

AMERICAN WOMAN: I don’t know.

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OLD DEDE: You come all this way, spend all this time, and you won’t even have a little-?

AMERICAN WOMAN: Ta bien, ta bien…maybe just one…

American Woman eats the coconut candy. Dede looks at her. A moment.

OLD DEDE: You remind me of her.

AMERICAN WOMAN: Who?

OLD DEDE: Minerva.

AMERICAN WOMAN: I’m not…

OLD DEDE: You write things into being.

AMERICAN WOMAN: What?

DEDE: You write so that people will learn the truth and find a way to change the world.

AMERICAN WOMAN: I just write little things, short stories...

OLD DEDE: Is that right? Why are you here, then?

AMERICAN WOMAN: Sorry?

OLD DEDE: I tell our story. Every day ever since the day of the accident.

AMERICAN WOMAN: But it wasn’t-.

OLD DEDE: I know. But that’s the word they used. “The Mirabal sisters suffered an accident.” That was the story the bastards in power wanted to tell. But soon, the real story came out. And it had to be told. So that people would know exactly what happened. You also write so that people will remember what happened. If not, why write at all? Eat your dulce de coco, mujer. Take in the sun. We’ll sit out here together and look at the butterflies as they dance among the trees.

Dominican music is heard softly (a song from the 1940s). In the distance, in the garden, 10-year-old Maria Teresa is seen dancing.

AMERICAN WOMAN: It’s so beautiful here.

OLD DEDE: Beautiful, but crazy. That’s what Minerva used to say: Everything here is a kind of madness disguised as serenity.

AMERICAN WOMAN: What kind of dulce de coco is this?

18

OLD DEDE: You like it?

AMERICAN WOMAN: It doesn’t taste like the kind they sell in the States.

OLD DEDE: It’s a secret recipe. Maria Teresa’s recipe.

19

Escena 5: el diario de Maria Teresa

Día. 1945. María Teresa apoya el parasol (que se vio en la escena previa) hacia el horizonte, y empieza a dibujar en su diario. Ella tiene 10 años de edad. Los dibujos se

proyectan, quizás, en la tela del parasol.

Proyeccion: la fecha 1945 escrita a mano mientras ella dice:

MARIA TERESA: 1945. Querido diario,

Una taza de coco,

Proyección: un dibujo de una taza

Una pizca de mani,

Una cuchara grande de dulce de leche,

Proyección: un dibujo de una cuchara

Una tapita de ron.

Esta es la receta que me dio mi tia Flor. No se la muestras a nadie. Es un secreto entre nosotros.

Mira, que si Minerva la ve, me la copia. A ella le encanta copiarme las cosas.

Como ese vestido, ¿te acuerdas? El que vi en la tienda.

Proyección de un dibujo de un vestido de baile

Yo lo vi primero, pero Minerva lo agarro para salir con Lio Morales.

Yo creo que esta enamorada de el.

Yo los vi el otro dia. Estaban hablando de no-se-que-cosa al otro lado del jardín.

Usaban palabras largas, asi super-dotadas…

Minerva dice que Lio la ayuda con la tarea,

Pero por poco se besan.

Yo no se que tarea es esa.

Proyeccion: un dibujo de una muchacha con boina y pantalones

Esta es Hilda. Una amiga de Minerva.

Se viste raro. Siempre lleva boina y pantalones.

20

Hilda tiene reuniones secretas en su casa. Esta en contra de Trujillo.

Me da miedo.

Minerva dice que es importante apuntar las cosas en el diario,

Para que nuestros secretos siempre estén guardados

en un lugar sagrado. 19 year old Minerva enters, from within. Maria Teresa hides the diary.

MINERVA: Getting some sun?

MARIA TERESA: A little. It’s so nice out.

MINERVA: Nice light for writing.

MARIA TERESA: I don’t have anything to write.

MINERVA: Swear?

MARIA TERESA: Ay, don’t be a pest.

MINERVA: Just asking, that’s all.

Minera hums a bolero to herself, in thought.

MARIA TERESA: What are you singing?

MINERVA: A song that came into my head.

MARIA TERESA: Who for?

MINERVA: Are you going to start with that?

MARIA TERESA: Just asking, that’s all.

MINERVA: Just because I was singing doesn’t mean anything. Besides, you’re too young for those kinds of questions.

MARIA TERESA: I already did my First Communion. I’m a grown up.

MINERVA: When you’re fifteen, we can talk.

MARIA TERESA: I know more than you think.

MINERVA: About what?

MARIA TERESA: Secret meetings.

21

MINERVA: Are you spying on me?

MARIA TERESA: I’m not the one going round here and there with Hilda….

MINERVA: What’s Hilda to you?

MARIA TERESA: She’s going to get you into trouble.

MINERVA: Mate, are you writing little things about Hilda in your diary?

MARIA TERESA: Listen, it’s not my fault that Hilda’s stupid uncle refuses to hang a picture of Trujillo on the wall.

MINERVA: He has his reasons. His decision should be respected.

MARIA TERESA: We have a picture of Trujillo on the wall. You spend all that time with Hilda in those stupid meetings, and the guards come round my school and…

MINERVA: Did you tell them anything?

MARIA TERESA: Why would I anyone ask me anything-?

MINERVA: Well, someone said something.

MARIA TERESA: Huh?

MINERVA: They took her.

MARIA TERESA: Who?

MINERVA: Who do you think? Hilda. The police took her away.

MARIA TERESA: Why didn’t you say anything?

MINERVA: Because I don’t want to bother everyone in the whole house. Sometimes you have to hide. Sometimes you have to get rid of everything…

MARIA TERESA: What are you talking about?

MINERVA:… If the guards come, if the guards read anything…

MARIA TERESA: I haven’t written anything.

MINERVA: If there’s something about Hilda somewhere….the police will take me away. Understand? They’ll take all of us away.

^MARIA TERESA: Liar.

22

MINERVA: You think you can play with the police? They’ll take me, Dede, Patria, Mom, Dad…

MARIA TERESA: Here. (retrieves hidden diary) …You told me I could write whatever I wanted in my diary.

MINERVA: About Hilda?

MARIA TERESA (crying): I don’t want them to take you away…I don’t want them to take you away.

MINERVA: There, there. Don’t get upset.

MARIA TERESA(crying): I was just writing little things…little thoughts… I don’t want to get rid of my diary. He’s my best friend.

MINERVA: What do you mean “your best friend?”

MARIA TERESA: I didn’t write anything bad.

MINERVA: I know. I know. Look: we’ll put all my papers and your diary in a little box, and we’ll bury it in a secret place, somewhere only you and I will know about.

MARIA TERESA: Yes? How do you know they’ll be safe?

MINERVA: I’ll make sure. Don’t worry.

The sisters walk away.

Projection: drawings from Maria Teresa’s diary leave their memory traces in the garden:

lines and shapes turn into

dresses buried upside down in the earth in between veins of blood.

23

Escena 6: el diario de Patria

1946. Patria tiene 22 años de edad. Proyeccion de una iglesia o de una imagen religiosa, como una estampa, por ejemplo.

Proyeccion: la fecha 1946 escrita a mano mientras ella dice:

PATRIA: 1946. Querido diario,

No se que hacer con mi fe.

Siempre he querido ser monja,

Pero desde que conoci a Pedrito Gonzalez,

Todo ha cambiado.

Cada vez que lo miro,

con su pelo peinado y su guayabera tan limpia,

y planchadita,

Proyeccion: una guayabera colgada en una línea de ropa, secándose en la luz del sol.

pienso en el futuro,

nuestro futuro.

Otra pagina en el diario/Cambio de tiempo.

Proyeccion: un puñado de tierra entre las manos de un hombre, tierra que se cae por sus dedos ante una luna al revés.

El otro dia, Pedro y yo estábamos caminando en una noche sin luna.

Cuando de repente se arrodillo,

Agarro un puñado de tierra en sus manos

Y me dijo que me amaba a mi tanto como amaba a este país.

Si la fe es ciega, también es el amor.

Esa noche sabia que Pedrito era mi destino.

Otra pagina en el diario/cambio de tiempo.

Proyecciones: un bebe vestido de angel, una cajita de muertos, una vela en un altar, la medallita de la Virgen de Altagracia, lagrimas que caen sobre la tierra como llamas

pequeñas, hormigas que caminan por la tierra y llenan el ataúd de un infante, mientras ella dice:

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Nuestro primer hijo nace muerto.

No see como me voy a recuperar.

Pedrito esta inconsolable.

Días pasan. No podemos hablar.

Pedrito entierra al bebe en una cajita en la tierra.

Sus lagrimas queman sus dedos.

Yo lo miro, y le pido perdón a Dios,

Porque pienso que me ha castigado por haberlo dejado;

Me ha castigado por amar a otro.

Le quiero poner una medallita de la Virgencita de la Altagracia al bebe.

Los campesinos me ayudan a abrir la cajita en la tierra.

Esta llena de hormigas.

Cierra. Por favor.

Otra pagina en el diario/cambio de tiempo: aspecto de futuro.

¿Virgen de la Altagracia, oyes mi voz?

¿Virgencita, mandame una señal.

25

Scene 7.

1948. Dominican instrumental music is heard in the background, while the DJ spins a cynically soothing climate of fear and surveillance over the land.

DJ: It’s a quiet night in Ciudad Trujillo,

As we spin one of the hit platters of 1948.

Patria walks in, as she listens to the radio. She has a little sewing basket in hand.

Here on La Voz Dominicana, the voice of the world,

Minerva walks in. She has writing paper and pen in hand.

We remind you of the classic style

That Our Great Benefactor El Jefe supports and magnifies.

If you want meat, milk, salt, sugar, tobacco,

Dede walks in. She has her Dad’s accounting book and pencil in hand.

You’ll find it here in Ciudad Trujillo.

If you want perfumes, neckties, the latest cars, and glamorous stars,

You’ll find it here in Ciudad Trujillo,

Ladies and gentlemen, this is where Hollywood meets the Caribbean,

Maria Teresa walks in. She has a fashion magazine in hand, preferably Vanidades.

Where all your forbidden desires are granted

By the man we call El Jefe: God in heaven, Trujillo on earth.

This is La Voz Dominica, the voice of the world.

26

Scene 8.

1948. The four sisters in the garden. 24 year old Patria is sewing, 13 year old Maria Teresa is reading Vanidades, a fashion and gossip magazine, 23 year old Dede (younger) is tallying up accounts in accounting notebook, and 22 year old Minerva is writing. The

soft spell of summer envelopes them. There is a tall pitcher of lemonade on a table.

MARIA TERESA: Hot.

PATRIA: You can say that again.

MARIA TERESA: More than usual.

PATRIA: It’s the humidity.

YOUNG DEDE: I keep adding the same numbers over and over again.

MINERVA: Want me to help you, Dede?

YOUNG DEDE: I’m fine.

MARIA TERESA (to Minerva): What are you writing this time? (will you) Let me read it?

PATRIA: Mate, leave your sister in peace.

MARIA TERESA: Just asking, that’s all.

YOUNG DEDE: I hope you two aren’t going to start fighting now.

PATRIA: We’re not fighting. But she can’t act like a baby all the time.

MARIA TERESA: I’m not a baby.

PATRIA (with a smile): Precisely.

A moment.

MINERVA: Maybe we should go for a swim.

YOUNG DEDE: With Virgilio Morales?

MINERVA: What does that mean?

YOUNG DEDE: Ever since he stopped by the house that day, you’ve been… something else…

27

MINERVA: Well, you go out with Jaimito and I don’t say anything.

YOUNG DEDE: That’s different.

MARIA TERESA (sing-song): Dede likes Virgilio.

YOUNG DEDE: Stop making things up!

MARIA TERESA: I see you when Virgilio comes by. You get all giggly and wobbly.

PATRIA: Mate, what’s gotten into you today? Leave your sisters in-

MARIA TERESA: Just saying…

PATRIA: Just saying: is how a fish is caught and dies.

They laugh.

MINERVA: What’s that, girl? Something you heard Dad say?

YOUNG DEDE: I don’t know what you see in him.

MINERVA: Who? Lio? He’s nice.

MARIA TERESA: Isn’t he a communist?

MINERVA: He wants this country to move forward. There’s nothing wrong with that.

MARIA TERESA: But a communist…

MINERVA: When I met him, I didn’t ask him what his political ideas were.

MARIA TERESA: And now?

MINERVA: The only reason Lio’s ideas are considered “suspect” is because we have a government that limits our freedom of expression.

PATRIA: Not so loud.

MINERVA: If people go round with their head down, this country will never put itself back together again.

YOUNG DEDE: When you’re a lawyer-

MINERVA: Yes. When I’m a lawyer, I’ll fight to change things. Just like Lio and many others do.

MARIA TERESA: But if he’s a communist, doesn’t that make him an enemy of the state?

28

MINERVA: If Lio’s an enemy of the state, I’m an enemy of the state.

PATRIA: You have to be careful. Pray to all the saints in heaven that things don’t get worse.

MINERVA: Oh no, they’ll get worse.

PATRIA: We have to pray that-

MINERVA: Trujillo doesn’t ruin this country completely. Because at this rate…

PATRIA: All we can do is put ourselves in God’s hands.

MINERVA: Prayers alone won’t solve things, Patria. We have to take action.

MARIA TERESA: What can we do?

MINERVA: What?

MARIA TERESA: Mom says women need to take care of the house.

YOUNG DEDE: It’s nice to take care of the house.

PATRIA: Take care of Jaimito… You’re in love, aren’t you?

YOUNG DEDE: He’s just a friend. That’s all.

MARIA TERESA: Like Minerva and Lio.

MINERVA: Mate!

PATRIA: He’s proposed already…

YOUNG DEDE: Well, he’s…we’ve been…But I don’t know…

MARIA TERESA: Jaimito and you make a good couple.

YOUNG DEDE: What do you know about such things?

MARIA TERESA: Did he kiss you? Did you kiss him back? How did he propose?

YOUNG DEDE: I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.

PATRIA: Ay, girl, marry him. He loves you.

MINERVA: He’s been flirting with you since you were little kids. You’re destined for each other.

MARIA TERESA: Like you’re destined for Lio.

29

MINERVA: Lio and I have an affinity. We share the same ideals. A man and a woman can be friends.

MARIA TERESA: Friends that blush when they see each other?

PATRIA: Mate, don’t be fresh!

YOUNG DEDE: I only know…things are getting more and more difficult for those that oppose Trujillo. Jaimito says Lio might have to go into exile.

A brief moment.

MINERVA: He’ll do what he has to do.

MARIA TERESA: Hasn’t he asked you to run away with him?

MINERVA: I wouldn’t go anyway.

YOUNG DEDE: I don’t understand.

MINERVA: What? What don’t you understand?

YOUNG DEDE: You’re risking your life for him and –

MINERVA: I go to meetings. I take part in so-called “subversive activities,” for my country, not for Lio. My life doesn’t revolve around a man.

YOUNG DEDE: Are you saying mine-?

MINERVA: Dede, you’re in love with Jaimito. You always have been. With Lio and I, it’s different.

MARIA TERESA: Because you don’t want to admit it.

PATRIA: Mate, close that beak. Now.

MINERVA: I’ll do what I want. All right? Neither you nor anyone will decide what I’m going to do with my life! I’m sick of all this gossip and nonsense. If Lio has to go into exile, then that’s what he’ll do. If he asks me to go with him, that’s one thing, but I’m not going to… No. (Minerva walks away)

PATRIA: Minerva.

MINERVA: No!

Minerva exits (goes to house). Pause.

YOUNG DEDE: She gets so upset when I…

30

PATRIA: She loves him. Like you and Jaimito.

YOUNG DEDE: That’s different. He doesn’t want anything to do with politics…. What’s happening in this country?

PATRIA: I don’t know.

YOUNG DEDE: I get so scared sometimes.

MARIA TERESA (looking at magazine): Did you see this?

PATRIA: What now?

MARIA TERESA: Zsa Zsa Gabor had dinner with Ramfis, the Generalisimo’s son. It says here she wore shoes with diamond heels.

PATRIA: Diamonds?

MARIA TERESA: A gift. Custom made exclusively in Paris.

YOUNG DEDE: Let me see that.

MARIA TERESA: Can you imagine?

YOUNG DEDE: Diamond heels. That’s what he spends our people’s money on. Diamond heels for beauty queens and so-called aspiring socialites.

MARIA TERESA: Aren’t they pretty?

YOUNG DEDE: Disgusting, more like.

PATRIA: Come on, Mate. We have to stop looking at the stars and help Mom with dinner. Remember we’re going to make that special flan.

MARIA TERESA: Oh. Right. Flan with oranges!

PATRIA (to Dede): Joining us, Dede?

MARIA TERESA: Do you think Mom could buy me a dress like the one in the magazine?

PATRIA: We’ll see. (to Dede) Help us in the kitchen?

YOUNG DEDE: I need to finish adding up these accounts for Dad.

PATRIA: All right. Come on, Mate.

MARIA TERESA (putting down magazine): Okay!

31

Patria and Maria Teresa go within (inside the house). A moment.

Dede focuses on her accounting.

YOUNG DEDE: (adding numbers): Two, four, sixteen, forty, twenty-five, seventy…

DJ becomes LIO MORALES. He enters, looks at Dede lost in her accounting.

DJ as LIO: Counting how many days are left in the year?

YOUNG DEDE: Lio. What are you-?

DJ as LIO: I wanted to see Minerva. Is she around?

YOUNG DEDE: She’s inside. Resting up a bit. (a little lie) She doesn’t feel well.

DJ as LIO: Is she all right?

YOUNG DEDE: (continuing the lie) Something she ate. She’ll get over it.

DJ as LIO: Well, if you would…

YOUNG DEDE: Would you like to sit down for a while?

DJ as LIO: I don’t have much time to-

YOUNG DEDE: Just a little while. Lemonade? We made it this afternoon, since it was so hot.

DJ as LIO: Well, we’re in the Caribbean.

YOUNG DEDE: How’s that?

DJ as LIO: We always talk about the heat as if it were something unexpected.

YOUNG DEDE: (she laughs, with affection) Ay, Lio…You’re right…

DJ as LIO: I love this garden. I wish I could stay here forever.

YOUNG DEDE: Well, you could…

DJ as LIO: Things are starting to get really bad.

YOUNG DEDE: In what sense?

DJ as LIO: In this country’s sense. Are you blind?

32

YOUNG DEDE: No, no, not at all. I see things, hear what’s going on, what people say behind closed doors, you know, how people are being sent to prison for any ol’ thing, and show up dead in lost parts of the city, the daily humiliations…

DJ as LIO: Then, you understand, if I stay here much longer, they’ll kill me.

YOUNG DEDE: But what will you-?

DJ as LIO: I’ve worked it out. Don’t worry. Just give this to Minerva. It explains everything. (he hands her letter)

YOUNG DEDE: But when-

DJ as LIO: Do me the favor

YOUNG DEDE: But when-.

DJ as LIO: As soon as you can. They’ve got their eye on me.

YOUNG DEDE: (cries quietly)

DJ as LIO: Hey. What’s this? Don’t get all… (goes to her, embraces her) There, there. Everything will work itself out. You’ll see. Where’s that smile? What’s that sweet Mirabal sisters smile?

Dede smiles slightly.

Just give her the letter. Promise?

YOUNG DEDE: As soon as she wakes up.

DJ as LIO: Don’t cry, beautiful. Have faith. Without it, we’re nothing.

A moment. He walks away.

Take care, Dede.

YOUNG DEDE: You too.

He exits. Dede (Younger) opens the letter. Reads it. A moment.

She tears the letter in half.

33

Escena 9

Tiempo se desplaza hasta el presente. Dede (Mayor) se queda pensando un momento.

MUJER AMERICANA: ¿Qué decía (la carta)?

DEDE (Mayor): “Ve a la embajada Colombiana. Con el pretexto de ver la exposición de arte. Quedate allí. Si te quedas, van a entender que quieres exiliarte. Te ayudaran.”

MUJER AMERICANA: Suena razonable.

DEDE (Mayor):¿Sabes cuántas personas ya habían sido arrestadas cada día en esa misma zona precisamente porque las autoridades sabían que la gente utilizaba la embajada como una salida? ¿Cómo podria yo dejar que Minerva…? Es que no sabia….

MUJER AMERICANA: ¿Estabas enamorada?

DEDE (Mayor): Jaime era mi amor. Me case con él.

MUJER AMERICANA: Sí, pero …

DEDE (Mayor): ¿Ahora quiere tu contar mi historia como te da la gana? Yo se lo que paso. Yo soy la que cuenta las cosas.

MUJER AMERICANA: Solo digo que-

DEDE (Mayor): ¿Acaso tu sabe todo lo que ha pasado por mi corazon? Como buena Americana al fin…

MUJER AMERICANA: ¿A que viene eso?

DEDE (Mayor): Utede los Americanos se creen que se la’ saben toda.

MUJER AMERICANA: Yo no creo-

DEDE (Mayor): Venian a nuestro país y se sentaban en la mansión del Jefe y comian su comida y bebian su vino y viajaban con él en su yate. Todas las estrellas, Jimmy Stewart y Kim Novak…y to lo’ de mas…querían ser parte de la corte de El Jefe. Pero no querian averiguar lo que estaba pasando realmente en nuestro país de verdad. Para ellos, El Jefe era la máximo y todo estaba bien.

MUJER AMERICANA: No todo el mundo pensaba igual.

DEDE (Mayor): Tal ve’ no tu mama ni tu papa… porque eran de aquí. Pero sus amigos en Nueva York caminando por la calle, ellos pensaban asi.

MUJER AMERICANA: Mire, mis padres tuvieron que irse del país, y sus amigos también. Y las personas caminando por la calle no creo que se dejaban llevar por las cosas tan fácil. No todos los americanos eran unos inconscientes en aquel entonce’.

34

Estaban al tanto. Y hacían lo que podían, con pocos recursos, mandando esto y lo otro a sus familias, mientras pasaban frio y luchaban contra todo pa’ seguir pa’lante.

DEDE (Mayor): Y los que creian en la propaganda? Que me dices de ellos? Que me dices de los que se hacían de la vista gorda si aqui metían a la gente en la cárcel por ninguna razón, torturándolas, matándolas…

¿Incluso cuando murió, cuando El Jefe murió, recuerdo el artículo de la revista Time, una revista importante, verdad? El nueve de junio de 1961, publicaron que era un "dictador modelo que había mantenido el equilibrio en el país." Porque elimino la deuda externa de hacia mucho tiempo. Felicidades para El Jefe! Pero eso si, cuando se empezó a arrimar a Moscú como posible aliado, ahí fue cuando la CIA dijo, no, no, este ya no nos conviene. No podemos tener otro comunista en el Caribe.

MUJER AMERICANA: Hay e’pacio sólo para uno.

DEDE (Mayor): Claro que la palabra “comunista” la utilizan como le da la realizima gana. A veces pienso que el ultimo comunista fue Marx.

MUJER AMERICANA: La gente dice muchas cosas.

DEDE (Mayor): Y los escritores le siguen la corriente.

MUJER AMERICANA: Yo no.

DEDE (Mayor): Que haces entonces?

MUJER AMERICANA: Todo lo que mis padres sufrieron viniendo a los Estados Unidos, todo lo que los amigos de mis padres sufrieron…Mire, no será mi historia, mi vivencia, pero es mi sangre. Siento las cosas. Siento lo que paso y lo que ha pasado en este pais. Y se me parte el alma. Y hay noches que me echo a llorar. Como si fuera una niña otra vez en el apartamento con mis padres escuchándolos hablar sobre este lugar en un español que yo no entendía. Y algunas veces, no se como puedo seguir andando, con la responsabilidad que siento como escritora, como persona, como mujer, de honrar la memoria de mis padres, de sus amigos, de mi gente, de este país, aunque no es mio del todo. Lo se. Estoy consciente de ello. Todos los días. Todos los días que paso por las calles aquí y la gente me mira, o juzga mi acento cuando hablo. Porque aquí soy la Americana, y asi me ven. Como la Americana, que no tiene derecho a nada. Por mucho que trato de explicarme…

Un momento.

DEDE (Mayor): Perdona que me pusiera alterada.

MUJER AMERICANA: El estar alterada es normal. Lo que paso aquí no fue de juego. Y las cosas que siguen pasando…tampoco son de juego.

DEDE (Mayor): …Yo cuento las cosas…

MUJER AMERICANA: Y yo las escribo…

35

DEDE (Mayor): Entre las dos… que pareja hacemos…

MUJER AMERICANA: Me gustaría poder contar las cosas, como usted.

DEDE (Mayor): Bueno, en el papel…

MUJER AMERICANA: No es lo mismo.

DEDE (Mayor): Sabe, cada vez que cuento las cosas…me acuerdo mas y mas… siempre se me viene a la mente algo nuevo…un nuevo recuerdo. Un nuevo pensamiento. Verte a ti ahí… conchale, que te pareces a Minerva…Hay algo. Me recuerdas a ella. Era muy directa.

MUJER AMERICANA: Eso es lo americano. Somos asi. Es el país. Ahí todo… no se puede andar con vueltas. Por mucho que uno quiera.

DEDE (Mayor): Pue’ nosotros andamos con vueltas…

MUJER AMERICANA: …Si un dia escribo un libro de verdad sobre todo esto… me gustaría poder darles las vueltas…

DEDE (Mayor): ¿Como?

MUJER AMERICANA: De contar las cosas pequeñas de la vida, las cosas que tal vez no son tan directas, tan al grano…las cosas que, en fin, son las que recordamos.

Un momento. En tiempo pasado se ve a Patria caminando hacia una parte del jardín.

DEDE (Mayor): Cada vez. Que pienso en Lio…

MUJER AMERICANA: Minerva lo amaba.

DEDE (Mayor): Ella siempre decía que eran amigos.

MUJER AMERICANA: ¿Y usted la creia’?

DEDE (Mayor): …Era una niña. Una muchacha tonta. Todas: unas tontas. No se en lo que ‘taba (yo) pensando… Tarde tanto tiempo en "despertar" … Eso si, todas nos despertamos de repente en el ‘49. Ese año todo cambió.

36

Scene 10.

1949. Afternoon. Patria, 25, is putting on makeup. She’s already dressed for the party. Maria Teresa, age 14, enters. She wears a new party dress.

The American Woman and Old Dede remain from previous scene, witnessing the past.

MARIA TERESA: What do you think?

PATRIA: It’s a dress.

MARIA TERESA: Ay, Patria, don’t be so boring. Do you like it or not?

PATRIA: It’s nice.

MARIA TERESA: I can’t wait to go to the party.

YOUNG DEDE (enters, to finish up her makeup): What party?

MARIA TERESA: Trujillo’s party.

YOUNG DEDE: You’re not going to any such party.

MARIA TERESA: Dede!

OLD DEDE: You know what Mom says.

PATRIA: You’re too young.

MARIA TERESA: But I want to go.

PATRIA: I don’t know why Trujillo invited Dad to this party. Much less a private one!

YOUNG DEDE: Because El Jefe has his eye on Minerva, that’s why. And what El Jefe says, goes. So, Dad and Minerva have to go. And we have to go because Minerva can’t go alone with Dad.

PATRIA: For protection. Exactly.

YOUNG DEDE: Trujillo has a long hand, as they say.

MARIA TERESA: How many girlfriends has he had?

YOUNG DEDE: Girl! Between the wives and the girlfriends…too many to count.

PATRIA: Disgusting.

MARIA TERESA: But I put on my new dress and everything.

37

MINERVA (23 years old; entering): Well, you’ll have to take it off, girl, because you’re not going anywhere.

MARIA TERESA: This is so not fair. You get to go everywhere and do everything, and I have to wait and wait-

YOUNG DEDE: You’ll have your quinceanera soon enough. After that, you can…

MARIA TERESA: Stupid traditions.

PATRIA: Mate, please.

MARIA TERESA: After my quinceanera, you’ll see… I’ll have all the boys eating out of my hand. My dance-card will be absolutely full.

MINERVA: And then what?

MARIA TERESA: Just cause you’re all snooty and don’t like boys-

MINERVA: I like boys. I just don’t like the ones from around here, that’s all.

MARIA TERESA: Just the one who’s some other where?

MINERVA: What are you getting at?

MARIA TERESA: You’ll see. I’m going wear not just one new dress, but hundreds of dresses by all the famous designers from all around the world. I’m going to be amazing!

Maria Teresa exits.

YOUNG DEDE: She’s crazy. That’s clear.

MINERVA: She doesn’t know what she wants.

PATRIA: I wouldn’t say that. She knows exactly what she wants.

MINERVA: New shoes and clothes?

YOUNG DEDE: The way she goes on about things…

PATRIA: I thought she’d be more grown up by now.

YOUNG DEDE: We can’t all be like you, Patria.

PATRIA: She worries me. She has absolutely no sense of responsibility.

YOUNG DEDE: Head in the clouds.

MINERVA: One day, one day she’ll learn…

38

A moment.

I wish I didn’t have to go to this “swell” party.

PATRIA: Don’t we all.

YOUNG DEDE: You know Dad can’t refuse…

MINERVA: If only we could kill El Jefe…

PATRIA: Quiet.

YOUNG DEDE: You don’t want to get Dad into trouble. It’s the last thing he needs…

MINERVA: Dad wants to protect us, but what does he do? He hides things.

YOUNG DEDE: He has nothing to -

MINERVA: Virgilio’s been writing to me.

A moment.

Letters and letters and Dad’s been…

PATRIA: That’s not possible.

MINERVA: I found them. He had them stashed away. I found the letters.

YOUNG DEDE: Rummaging around in Dad’s things?

MINERVA: Yes. And why not?

PATRIA: I’m sure Dad only wanted to…

MINERVA: The best for me?

YOUNG DEDE: He just wants to protect you. Lio Morales is…

MINERVA: An enemy of the state. And if I communicate with him, I’m also an enemy. And if Trujillo finds out, he’ll send me to prison. Well, I’d rather go to prison.

PATRIA: Minerva!

MINERVA: What am I doing here? What can I accomplish here? Sinita and all my other friends are in college already, making their own lives, and I’m not even…

YOUNG DEDE: You’ll go to law school soon enough.

MINERVA: When? …Lio wants to share his future with me. In his letters, he…

39

YOUNG DEDE: Dad was just trying to do the right…

MINERVA: Dad wants to keep me cooped up here. Daddy’s little girl. Well, I’m not his little girl anymore. I am not. Conchale.

A moment.

YOUNG DEDE: We have to go to the party.

MINERVA: Makes me sick.

PATRIA: It’s just a party.

MINERVA: So El Jefe can feel me up?

PATRIA: Minerva.

MINERVA: It’s what he does. Everybody knows that.

YOUNG DEDE: We’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t worry.

MINERVA: I’d like to have that sonofabitch in my hands, strangle him slowly, and make him pay for all the women he’s dirtied and raped and everything’s he done in this country in the name of- .

PATRIA: You’ll do nothing of the-

MINERVA: Just dreaming, Patria, dreaming of a different life.

40

escena 11

Escena continua. Cambio rápido hasta el presente. Dede (Mayor) le habla a Minerva (en el pasado). Un escalofrío de memoria.

DEDE (Mayor): ¿Qué vida soñabas ese dia cuando tu sangre teñia los campos de azúcar?

¿Qué vida podrías haber llevado si no hubieras ido ese dia a esa fiesta?

¿Qué sueños nos atrevemos a tener cuando estamos presos en nuestro propio país?

¿Qué suspiros podemos dejar escapar en el balanceo tiránico de una noche tropical?

Dede (Mayor) se va a otra parte, fuera de escena, mientras la accion se traslada a 1949. Por la noche. El DJ (ahora de la época de los 1940s) gira discos en la fiesta en el jardín

de El Jefe en su mansión en San Cristóbal.

Proyeccion: un mundo de fiesta y glamour. Un mundo de luces encantadas, quizás de linternas mágicas y también de banderas y banderas del país por todas partes. Ciudad

Trujillo en su apogeo total.

DJ: ¿Qué sonrisas son estas

En este jardín dulce de la mansión

Donde El Jefe atrae a sus invitados

En la tranquilidad de una noche larga de otoño?

Es día de descubrimiento,

El día cuando Colón se desvio en su nave

y nos encontró en el medio del mar.

Dede (menor), Patria y Minerva aparecen en sus vestidos de noche. La Mujer Americana habla como si estuviera translada en el acto de escribir hacia este momento en el pasado

de las hermanas y estuviera en la fiesta también.

MUJER AMERICANA: Las hermanas llegan en sus exquisitos trajes de noche,

Sus pieles se ruborizan al ver como,

bebidas fluyen,

Invitados se mueven -

Y todo del mundo lo pasa de lo mejor,

bajo la cubierta esplendida de flores y árboles.

41

The American Woman fades into the crowd at the party. A sweet bolero from the 1940s is heard.

MINERVA: I love this song.

PATRIA: Thought you didn’t want to come.

MINERVA: That has nothing to do with the song.

The DJ has become Trujillo. He is seen on other side of the stage. He approaches the sisters.

PATRIA: He’s headed this way.

YOUNG DEDE: Be careful, Minerva.

MINERVA: I can handle him.

DJ as TRUJILLO: May I have the pleasure?

MINERVA: Perhaps when the next song-

DJ as TRUJILLO: Now.

MINERVA: Yes, Generalisimo.

Trujillo and Minerva move onto the dance area.

YOUNG DEDE: I’m worried.

PATRIA: She’ll be fine.

YOUNG DEDE: How can you say that?

PATRIA: He’s not going to do anything while we’re-

YOUNG DEDE: He’s a snake.

PATRIA: Close that beak.

YOUNG DEDE: He does whatever he pleases.

Shift to Trujillo and Minerva, as if they were alone on the dance floor in a strange, sensual, oddly breezy encounter.

DJ as TRUJILLO: You dance well. Women from El Cibao are famous for being good dancers and good lovers.

MINERVA: Not everyone in El Cibao is the same.

42

DJ as TRUJILLO: You should set yourself up in the capital. I’d like to take classes with you.

MINERVA: I’m sure Generalisimo Trujillo can hire someone to teach him (how to dance).

DJ as TRUJILLO: Please. Call me Rafael.

MINERVA: Yes, sir. Rafael.

DJ as TRUJILLO: You’re very beautiful tonight, Miss Mirabal.

MINERVA: A woman shouldn’t be admired only for her beauty, Generalisimo.

DJ as TRUJILLO: What else should she be admired for?

MINERVA: What she thinks about the world.

DJ as TRUJILLO: You have thoughts about the world? Fancy yourself a politician?

MINERVA: I want to be a lawyer.

DJ as TRUJILLO: The law is a complicated career.

MINERVA: If a person’s dedicated, complications can be overcome.

DJ as TRUJILLO: I’m going to shut down the university. Too many agitators, people, like Virgilio Morales, for instance… Know him?

MINERVA: I’ve heard he went to university. His family’s from our neighborhood.

DJ as TRUJILLO: Men like Morales want to destroy this country.

Music changes to another bolero, perhaps “Dos Gardenias.”

Men like Morales have no sense of the future, Miss Mirabal.

MINERVA: I barely know him.

DJ as TRUJILLO: Best that you don’t. He’s a bad influence.

MINERVA: But…

DJ as TRUJILLO: What?

MIMNERVA: It’s good to have an exchange of ideas. Isn’t that why we live in a progressive country?

DJ as TRUJILLO: Did your father teach you how to dance, Miss?

43

MINERVA (a tactic): Minerva. Please.

DJ as TRUJILLO: Goddess of wisdom? I’ll place an owl on your shoulder and hold you up like the goddess that you are.

MINERVA: Sir, I-

DJ as TRUJILLO: I love your perfume, Minerva.

MINERVA: Your medals… they’re…

DJ as TRUJILLO: Then I’ll take off my clothes.

MINERVA: Sir.

DJ as TRUJILLO: I’ll strip (down to nothing), so we can be more comfortable-

Minerva slaps him. A moment. It’s as if everything has stopped, and everyone in the party is looking at them. A sea of eyes.

The country’s flags sway in the silence of the night. A moment.

That’s how I like my women, dammit. With nerve. With character. Let’s see, Minerva. Let’s see you defend yourself.

MINERVA: I have to-

DJ as TRUJILLO: The only thing you have to do is: be my goddess. I’m going to place an enchanted owl upon your shoulder all night.

A moment. DJ as Trujillo exits.

Minerva remains.

44

escena 12

Unos minutos más tarde. Dede (menor), Patria y Minerva en camino hacia la casa.

DEDE (Menor): ¿En qué estabas pensando?

PATRIA: Te podría haber mandado a la carcel.

MINERVA: Más bien en la cárcel que-

PATRIA: Le tenemos que pedir disculpas. De parte de todos. Te das cuenta.

DEDE (Menor): Sabes muy bien que lo que hiciste no se puede hacer.

MINERVA: No hay una ley que-

DEDE (Menor): Pero todo el mundo lo entiende. Si te enfrentas a El Jefe, estas a pena de muerte.

PATRIA: Piensa en nuestro pobre padre. No estás sola en todo esto.

MINERVA: Mi cartera. ¿Donde-?

PATRIA: ¿No la tienes contigo?

MINERVA: Pensé que me-

DEDE (Menor): ¿Estás segura que la-?

MINERVA: ¿Por supuesto… Dede, yo no te la di a ti para que me la- …? Ay Dios.

PATRIA: ¿Qué es?

MINERVA: La dejé. Se me quedo.

PATRIA: Bueno, mañana cuando le entreguemos la carta de disculpa, la-

MINERVA: No entiendes! Una de las cartas de Lio estaba adentro de la cartera.

DEDE (Menor): ¿Qué?

MINERVA: Una de las cartas que Papa había escondido de mi. La agarre y…La va a encontrar. Va a saber que yo-

PATRIA: Ay Dios mio.

MINERVA: Lo siento. Como lo…

45

Scene 13.

Shift to the present. Dede (Older) and The American Woman in the garden.

DEDE (Older): She wouldn’t stop apologizing that night. A night of tears, and then, years and years of… How I’ve retraced it in my mind…because the truth, the truth is a piece of paper floating in the air, its ink stains vanishing in the wind. What truth guides my actions? Now? Then? A truth no one can write down, because, in the end, it’s unknowable.

Pause.

AMERICAN WOMAN: Sometimes my mom says… We never know one another, no matter how much time passes.

OLD DEDE: Sounds like a smart woman.

AMERICAN WOMAN: She is. But I think she gets scared sometimes about the things I have to write…the truths of this world…

OLD DEDE: And whether you can face them?

AMERICAN WOMAN: And make them live inside of me.

OLD DEDE: “This story I write, I write because it lives inside of me.”

AMERICAN WOMAN: What’s that?

OLD DEDE: Something Minerva once wrote in her diary.

Minerva is seen. She speaks across time to the American Woman, and to Dede (Older).

MINERVA & OLD DEDE: This story I write, I write because it lives inside of me.

OLD DEDE: The night after the party, Dad sent his apologies to El Jefe

But El Jefe wanted more.

MINERVA: The guards came to the house. They asked Dad to come with them.

OLD DEDE: The guards came to the house. We screamed.

MINERVA: They closed the door and took Dad away.

OLD DEDE: Days went by.

MINERVA: Every day I tried to appeal Dad’s case to whomever I could, but I’d get the same answer every time:

46

OLD DEDE: You know what you need to do to get your dad out of jail, they said.

MINERVA: Trujillo requested that I go to the capital.

OLD DEDE: He made her wait three weeks.

MINERVA: Three weeks, until, finally, El Jefe showed his face.

OLD DEDE: Our lives were to be governed by a roll of his die.

47

Scene 14

Shift to 1949. Projection: interior of Trujillo’s office. DJ as Trujillo and Minerva.

MINERVA: You can’t keep my father in jail forever.

DJ as TRUJILLO: He’s not in jail.

MINERVA: Where is he, then?

DJ as TRUJILLO: He’s safe.

MINERVA: In your hands?

DJ as TRUJILLO: There are laws in this country, Minerva. Laws that need to exist because if not, we’d live in chaos.

MINERVA: My father hasn’t done anything. Please. He’s apologized already.

DJ as TRUJILLO: Lio Morales is a dangerous man.

MINERVA: My father doesn’t know him.

DJ as TRUJILLO: But you do. You know him.

MINERVA: I’ve told you, I’ve told everyone, I’m not in communication with Virgilio Morales.

DJ as TRUJILLO: So, the letter is…?

MINERVA: He was obsessed with me. He wrote me a letter. I never answered it.

DJ as TRUJILLO: Why do you lie to me?

MINERVA: I don’t.

DJ as TRUJILLO: You lied to me that night. You lied when you said-

MINERVA: It’s been three weeks, sir. My father’s not in good health. He could have a heart attack or a…

DJ as TRUJILLO: I told you. He’s safe.

MINERVA: Please. Rafael.

DJ as TRUJILLO: …You still want to be a lawyer, Minerva?

48

MINERVA: More than anything.

DJ as TRUJILLO: Funny how life is… what you want, what I want… Tell you what, why don’t we play a little game?

MINERVA: What game?

DJ as TRUJILLO: Dice.

MINERVA: I don’t understand-

DJ as TRUJILLO (takes out dice): What’s to understand? It’s a game. Have a seat, Minerva. Sit that pretty ass down.

She does not sit.

MINERVA: You talk like this to everyone?

DJ as TRUJLLO: Dear little goddess of wisdom, what games we could play…

MINERVA: I haven’t played dice in a long time.

DJ as TRUJILLO: We’ll take it slow. Get you up to speed.

MINERVA: And if I win…

DJ as TRUJILLO: If you win, you get your wish. Your father will be released from jail, and you’ll go to law school.

MINERVA: And if you-

DJ as TRUJILLO: I get mine.

Projection: Dice rolls. And rolls and rolls.

49

Escena 15

Suspension de tiempo. La Mujer Americana le habla a Minerva atraves del espacio en el acto de escribir, en la intimidad de la imaginación.

MUJER AMERICANA: Te jugabas la vida jugando a los dados.

El Jefe te miraba las piernas.

MINERVA: Dejalo que mire. Dejalo que se distraiga.

MUJER AMERICANA: Uno, cuatro, catorce.

MINERVA: Todo esta en mis manos.

MUJER AMERICANA: Los nervios a flor de piel.

MINERVA: Algo había empezado entre nosotro’, que ninguno de los dos podíamos parar.

Aquí se juega hasta la muerte.

MUJER AMERICANA: Uno, cuatro

MINERVA: Ocho.

MUJER AMERICANA: Le ganas El Jefe.

MINERVA: Es un milagro.

Proyeccion: imagen de un traje (sin nadie adentro) durmiendo en un ataúd.

DEDE (Mayor): Sacaron a Papa de la cárcel.

MINERVA: …Estaba muy mal. Muy débil. A penas lo reconocia.

DEDE (Mayor): Se murió poco después. La gente no sabe lo que tiene hasta que lo pierde. Y después, lloran.

MINERVA: Papa apenas podia hablar cuando salió de la cárcel. No sabia donde estaba.

Algunas veces pienso que lo mejor es olvidar.

.

50

Escena 16

Tiempo se desplace hacia el presente.

DEDE (Mayor): Pero las cosas no se pueden olvidar. Por mucho que uno quiera. Lo que se quedo en el olvido tiene una manera extraña de regresar. Todo vuelve. Como dice una vieja canción. Y después de cinco años en la universidad, cinco años largos, el pasado le volvió a Minerva como un puñal en el corazón. Minerva finalmente saca su titulo, la primera de nuestra familia en graduarse de la universidad, y que hizo El Jefe? No la dejo ejercer. No le otorgo la licencia para ejercer como abogada. Noches sin dormir, examen tras examen, y Minerva se encontró igual que empezó. Y El Jefe se rie y se rie….

1957. In the garden. The day after Minerva’s graduation. Patria, age 33, knits. Maria Teresa, age 22, drinks a soda. Dede (Younger, age 32,) cuts stems off of flowers to put

them in a vase later. Minerva, age 31, writes in her journal.

MARIA TERESA: He’s perverse.

MINERVA: Things happen for a reason.

MARIA TERESA: All those years studying…

MINERVA: I graduated. That’s what counts.

MARIA TERESA: What good’s a degree if you can’t do anything with it?

PATRIA: Maybe in a few years.

MARIA TERESA: What?

PATRIA: Maybe he’ll grant her the license.

YOUNG DEDE: He’ll never grant it.

MARIA TERESA: Why do you say that?

YOUNG DEDE: He hates her. He hates all of us.

MINERVA: Let’s talk about something else, eh.

PATRIA (to Dede): How could you-?

YOUNG DEDE: Enemies of the state. Because of a letter. A letter in a purse-

PATRIA: Dede, that was eight years ago. That’s in the past.

YOUNG DEDE: You think it’s “passed’ for him? El Jefe doesn’t forget anything. Not a thing, girl.

51

MARIA TERESA: He’s a freak.

PATRIA: Don’t use such ugly words, Mate.

MARIA TERESA: A perverse freak.

PATRIA: Hush now.

MARIA TERESA (to Minerva): I don’t know how you can sit there and be so calm. As if nothing had happened.

YOUNG DEDE: She’s thinking about the past.

MINERVA: I’m not thinking about anything.

MARIA TERESA: We got all ready, put on our nicest dresses, planned the whole party, and what a party! All so that swine could… All for nothing.

YOUNG DEDE: We’ll need to put the biscuits and plates away. They’re still there from yesterday.

MARIA TERESA: Let them rot.

PATRIA: Don’t say that, child.

A moment.

MINERVA: Well, you’ll graduate soon. We’ll throw a big party, then.

MARIA TERESA: I’m not graduating yet.

PATRIA (in thought): …There’s so much to do.

YOUNG DEDE: What?

PATRIA: …there’s so much to do. In the future.

YOUNG DEDE: So the present can go to hell?

PATRIA: That’s not what I-

YOUNG DEDE: Drown us all.

PATRIA: What are you talking about?

YOUNG DEDE: She sits there, accepting her punishment. What are you writing now? A little story to make the day go by faster, a prayer to ask Dad for forgiveness?

MINERVA: You are out of line. Way out.

52

YOUNG DEDE: Really?

MINERVA: What’s gotten into you? You want to dredge up the past? The past is over.

MARIA TERESA: What about your career?

MINERVA: A career. Yes. But, if things go on the way they are, I can’t spend my whole life fighting for a career, jeopardizing everyone around me, drowning in despair, because despair doesn’t get anything done. It’s doing things that gets things done. All I know is that to struggle, to fight, is all we have. To fight for this country. Our family. Our children. Not for a mere license.

YOUNG DEDE: And what you’re owed?

MINERVA: What I’m owed, what we’re owed… is a future where what happened to me yesterday at graduation doesn’t happen ever again to anyone. Understand? We have to muster our resolve. Get things done. And getting things done isn’t achieved by brandishing little daggers of words between sisters. You hear me?

YOUNG DEDE: Yeah, yeah, I get it.

MINERVA: No, you don’t. You never have. You think I’m not angry? You think I just go from one day to the next without…? I, more than anyone, am furious about what happened. It was five years of my life, five years of countless hours, pouring over books and papers and research and this law and that case…I earned the degree. No one gave it to me. No one. It’s mine. And if one day our struggle turns this country back around to some state of normalcy, and Trujillo is sent to some dungeon, or is killed like a rabid dog, as he should be, I’ll get my license. Don’t worry. The degree still counts for something. My effort and sacrifice were not in vain. Now, I don’t want to argue about or hear about this anymore. You hear me?

We’re sisters. DAMMIT! Family’s all we have. Our family’s our country.

Time shifts. Lights slowly focuses on Minerva as she is witnessed by American Woman.

I wake up early in the morning and think about the butterflies that collided against the bars between the windows at school when I was a little girl. They were so beautiful. I wanted to be like them. A dream of youth. Made real.

53

Segunda Parte

Escena 17

1957 y el presente. Por la noche. Se escucha en el fondo de un arreglo con un merengue dominicano. El DJ gira su cuento.

DJ: Un cuento dulce para una epoca dulce.

Amantes de todo el mundo unídos.

Aquí viene un beso frenético que se interpone en tu camino

Con un nuevo sonido:

Agarrense,

Gira, meneanse y agitense, mi gente.

Vean lo que despierta la ansiedad de una noche

De’troza’

Por pequeñas voces que gritan: Oye, ¿eres tu? ¿Conoces a la Mariposa?

¿Dónde esta mi bella mariposa esta noche?

La Mujer Americana se imagina las Mariposas en el proceso interior de escribir.

MUJER AMERICANA: Aquí la Mariposas juegan bajo tierra

Haciendo lo que pueden con su mente capaz.

Todos los días se enfrentan a la vida,

Y arriesgan todo

bajo el mismo compas.

Una canción se escucha

Las voces de unas muchachas

Que no quieren sufrir mas.

Esta es la historia de un dia

Sin escape.

54

Aquí, entre la arena y un viejo mar,

(hay) Una cajita humilde

Llena de sueños

De acción y de paz.

55

Scene 18.

Continuous scene. 1957. Maria Teresa is seated on the box. Minerva, 31, walks in.

MINERVA: What are you doing?

MARIA TERESA: Some guy came by. Asked me if I was the Mariposa’s little sister.

MINERVA: We have to get this box out of sight.

MARIA TERESA: Am I the Mariposa’s little sister?

MINERVA: How much did he tell you?

MARIA TERESA: He asked me if I was one of us.

MINERVA: And what did you say?

MARIA TERESA: I didn’t say anything, but he was handsome, and I think, yes, I’d like to be “one of us.”

MINERVA: Stop with your silliness, girl. This is serious.

MARIA TERESA: But he was handsome.

MINERVA: Must’ve been Palomino that came by, then.

MARIA TERESA: Palomino, Palomino…I love his name.

MINERVA: It’s not his real name.

MARIA TERESA: What’s his real name, then?

MINERVA: Shh.

MARIA TERESA: Nobody’s listening, mujer. What is it? What’s all this? What does it mean to be a Butterfly?

MINERVA: It’s a code name. We all have one.

MARIA TERESA: Ay, well I want a code name, too. Why not? I want to help.

MINERVA: Help what?

MARIA TERESA: …Kill El Jefe.

MINERVA: What do you know about any of this?

56

MARIA TERESA: I know what’s going on.

MINERVA: Is that so? Some cute guy comes by and all of a sudden you want to be part of a cause?

MARIA TERESA: It’s not just ‘cause of some guy. Patria, Dede…what are they doing with their lives?

MINERVA: They’re fine.

MARIA TERESA: Patria got married. Sixteen years ago. And what?

MINERVA: She has a family.

MARIA TERESA: And Dede lets Jaime run everything: what they do and spend… Look, Palomino is handsome, but that’s not the reason why I want to do something. I don’t want to sit around and let people do things for me. I want to change in this country.

MINERVA: We’re talking about guns, explosives... This is not a game, eh.

MARIA TERESA: I can handle it.

MINERVA: And you can’t let anyone know, understand? When we plan things, when we carry out an order…

MARIA TERESA: I know how to keep a secret. I’m your sister, remember?

MINERVA: …Okay.

MARIA TERESA: Yeah?

MINERVA: But if you get scared..

MARIA TERESA: I’m not afraid of anything.

MINERVA: Mate “the hero,” eh?

MARIA TERESA: That’s right.

MINERVA: Since when?

MARIA TERESA: Since always. You just never noticed. Besides, if you get scared, we can be scared together, right?

MINERVA: (to lift the box) Help me with this.

They lift the box together.

57

MINERVA: (brief pause) You’re right.

MARIA TERESA: What?

MINERVA: Palomino sure is handsome.

They laugh, and carry the box out.

58

Scene 19. a movement is born (trio)

1959. Dede (Older), across time, & Dede (Younger) look at Patria as she prays.

OLD DEDE: My sisters laugh.

YOUNG DEDE: Patria prays. I don’t want to know what’s going on, but I sense things.

OLD DEDE: The country’s changing. There are more and more gunshots every day.

YOUNG DEDE: I ask Jaime, what do we do? He says

OLD DEDE: Stay out of politics.

YOUNG DEDE: I ask Jaime, but what about Minerva and Mate? He says,

OLD DEDE: Save yourself for now. Leave them be.

YOUNG DEDE: The windows rattle. I try to hide.

OLD DEDE: What are my sisters are doing?

YOUNG DEDE: I don’t want to know.

OLD DEDE: Mariposa, a voice whispers.

YOUNG DEDE: I turn.

There’s nobody.

OLD DEDE & YOUNG DEDE: Find a place to hide.

Dede (Older) and Dede (Younger)’s images fade. Patria prays.

PATRIA: And try not to see what’s happening. Pray: God, give me strength.

Maria Teresa is seen on one side of the stage.

Projection: mountains, quiet sea, plantain trees trembling, empty streets…

MINERVA: 1959. Batista flees Cuba. Fidel takes over. We drink and celebrate to a new future. We’re going to live this enchanted dream forever.

PATRIA: I place my hand over the sun; I fight with every breath, that nothing will happen, that everyone by my side will be safe from harm.

MARIA TERESA: The streets burn.

59

PATRIA: The sky is grey. The ocean’s quiet.

MARIA TERESA: I want to do everything I can to help the cause.

PATRIA: Shouts are heard in the mountains.

MARIA TERESA: The sooner we get rid of those bastards in power, the better.

PATRIA: The streets are full of murmurs. You don’t know whom you can trust. Some priests say we have to fight; others turn their parishioners in to the police.

MARIA TERESA: I carry weapons in my backpack. Run through the streets. Hide in secret rooms.

PATRIA: They say soon,

MARIA TERESA & PATRIA: There will be an uprising.

MARIA TERESA: More ferocious than the one in Cuba. You’ll see.

PATRIA: What are you doing, Mate? What are you doing, Minerva? How do I find my place in all of this? Always in shadow, always obedient, always Patria…

Projections: lights flickering in the mountains, hand-made crosses in fields where citizens have died, holy water runs through a person’s hands, the image of the Virgin of

Altagracia, coffins filled with guns while:

MARIA TERESA: When it’s quiet is when I get scared. When everything’s like this, calm, I feel as if I’m going to die. Dreams come to me, dreams of open coffins.

PATRIA: I don’t dream anymore.

MARIA TERESA: I’m bursting with thirst.

PATRIA: Fear plays with truth. Mate’s backpack is always heavy now. Always heavy and I don’t ask her anything.

I want my voice to count for something. I want my life to mean more than…

Minerva is seen on another side of the stage.

Projections: images of the sun hiding between the clouds, blood stained trees, sun’s rays startling the bitter earth.

MINERVA: Whatever you can do. It’s our time, Patria. With Castro in power, we can really mobilize the opposition and squash Trujillo once and for all.

60

PATRIA: My son gives me a little kick. I feel him in my belly. What kind of life will he have? What kind of world will he live in?

MINERVA: I try not to think of anything, except

MARIA TERESA: Now.

MINERVA: Now, we have to do something

MARIA TERESA: Or we won’t move ever again.

Breath.

PATRIA: And that’s when…I go to a house in the mountains.

MINERVA: 14th of June.

PATRIA: Trujillo’s goons attack some men.

MARIA TERESA: Hide the sun. Hide it in your hands.

PATRIA: Windows shatter. (Sound) One explosion after another. (Sound) Smell of smoke in the air. (Quiet)

MARIA TERESA: Muevete, I scream.

MINERVA: Muevete, I cry.

PATRIA: Dear God, don’t let me die here. Let my son see this world. .

MARIA TERESA: Muevete, I scream.

PATRIA: Pray.

MINERVA: Muevete, I cry.

PATRIA: Guards with machetes. Guards with rifles. Some farmhands try to hide.

MARIA TERESA: Don’t let them see.

MINERVA: Pray. God. Someone.

PATRIA: And one of the farmhands rises. It’s a boy. He starts to run.

MARIA TERESA: Don’t let them see.

PATRIA: The boy falls. A bullet in his back. I see life drain from him while his blood stains the land, his mouth open in pain. Forgive me, Oh Lord.

61

MINERVA & MARIA TERESA: Forgive me.

PATRIA: How many boys will die in this war called “no war?” How many will I have to see fall into little boxes in the earth filled with ants before I do something? How can a person sit in a chair and let things go on and on?

Breath.

On this day I decide I will do whatever I can, before God

MINERVA: On this day as the sun’s rays

MARIA TERESA: shiver upon a tired earth

PATRIA: June 14, 1959

MARIA TERESA & MINERVA: June 14, 1959

PATRIA: The movement is born. And when my son enters the world, I baptize him Raul, after Raul Castro.

PATRIA, MINERVA, MARIA TERESA: This revolution is stronger than all of us.

62

Escena 20: una foto de Dede

Entre 1960 y el presente. Dede esta parada en el medio del jardín con una jarra de limonada en la mano. Esta detenida por el tiempo como una fotografia. Se ve nerviosa, aunque sonríe. La Mujer Americana y el DJ la miran, desde de un lado del escenario, como coro.

MUJER AMERICANA: Se detiene en algo

DJ: Buscando el pasado

MUJER AMERICANA: Buscando algo en si misma que olvido años atrás.

DJ: Muevete, mujer. Muevete.

MUJER AMERICANA: Se oyen grito’ en la calle. Niños jugando. Sus voces cantan dentro de un baile de pelotas de beisbol hechas de trapo.

DJ: ¿Qué lo que tu hace con esa sonrisa pegada a la cara? ¿A quien quieres engañar?

MUJER AMERICANA: Me mira, a ver si quiero un vaso de limonada.

DJ: La sed mata el calor, pero el calor nunca se va, cuando tienes algo ‘dentro que no suele despertar.

MUJER AMERICANA: Por un momento, me parece ver a Minerva, Mate y Patria dentro de sus ojos

DJ: ¿Que decían la’ mariposa’ cuando te veían pasar?

MUJER AMERICANA: Esconde la sonrisa, levanta la mano, como si estuviera diciéndo adios

DJ: O quizá’ una bienvenida a aquellas que son hilos de su misma sangre caminando por el mar.

Un momento. Y se oyen voces (de las otras hermanas al entrar) y Dede (Menor) sale del tiempo suspendido con una sonrisa. Tiempo se desplaza hacia 1960. Dede (Menor) tiene

35 años. El DJ y la Mujer Americana desvanecen.

DEDE (Menor): Vengan, vengan, que hice una limonada!

Minerva (34), Patria (36), and Maria Teresa (25) enter.

MARIA TERESA: Always taking care of the house.

DEDE: Oh oh. It’s my duty. You know perfectly well Jaime doesn’t put up with any revolu in this house.

MARIA TERESA (mocking): Naturally. What Jaime says, goes!

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DEDE: He’s my husband.

MINERVA: He’s not your master.

DEDE: Look, if you’ve come here to argue, I’d rather you leave. I’m fine here. My life is in order.

MARIA TERESA: Yes, but…

DEDE: But what?

PATRIA: Dede, you have to understand. We haven’t come here as your enemies. We only want you-

MINERVA: To let us have the meeting here. For a few hours, that’s all.

PATRIA: We need a place. Everything’s gotten so complicated.

MARIA TERESA: Every day there are less and less places that are safe.

YOUNG DEDE: I know. I know. It’s just…

MINERVA: A few hours… A favor between sisters.

YOUNG DEDE: It’s just… Jaimito…

MARIA TERESA: Is a Trujillista.

YOUNG DEDE: Jaime is not a Trujillista! He’s cautious. That’s all.

MARIA TERESA: (playing with sounds of words): Trujillista, egoista

YOUNG DEDE: Look, if you’re going to keep on like that, you’d better leave.

MINERVA: There are only a few days left.

DEDE: What for?

PATRIA: Something big.

MARIA TERESA: (makes a gesture: razorblade slitting a throat)

DEDE: What’s that mean?

MARIA TERESA: Bye-bye, you know.

YOUNG DEDE: El Jefe?

MARIA TERESA: It’s all planned. We’re going to kill that sonofabitch.

64

YOUNG DEDE: You’re going to tell me that you’re-

MINERVA: Another group’s assigned to the task. Meanwhile, we’ll take the fort at Salcedo.

YOUNG DEDE: Like pirates? You’re crazy.

PATRIA: You could help us.

YOUNG DEDE: Me?

MINERVA: You can be part of things, part of the meeting, everything. …We’ll be stronger if we’re together. …Come on.

YOUNG: DEDE: …No. No.

The following dialogue sequence until the asterisk overlaps, as the argument escalates.

PATRIA: Dede.

YOUNG DEDE: No. I don’t want to get mixed up in anything.

MINERVA: You wouldn’t be-

YOUNG DEDE: No. No.

MINERVA: Always the same. Hiding in the bushes.

YOUNG DEDE: I don’t hide anywhere.

MINERVA: When we were little, it’s all you would do. Oh, you’re so brave, but when the shit hits the fan, you hide and run away with your tail between your legs.

YOUNG DEDE: You have no right to talk to me like that in my house!

MINERVA: Just like Dad.

YOUNG DEDE: Dad was a hero!

MINERVA: But he bowed his head. Yes, sir. No, sir. Whatever you say, sir.

PATRIA: Leave all that now.

YOUNG DEDE: He did it for you, to defend your honor. Dammit.

MARIA TERESA: He did it because he was scared.

PATRIA: We didn’t come here to fight.

65

MINERVA: Scared. Yes. Fear ate away at him. Fear ate his liver, destroyed him from the inside.

YOUNG DEDE: What he had was respect.

MARIA TERESA: Respect for authority?

YOUNG DEDE: For authority. Yes!. Dammit! You make me crazy!

PATRIA: Tyrannical authority that ruins countries.

YOUNG DEDE: One has to have respect.

MINERVA: Don’t scare the bees or they’ll bite, right? Dad used to say that. Remember?

YOUNG DEDE: Dad did everything-

MINERVA: Dad did, Dad did… and you?

YOUNG DEDE: Dad did everything he could for us! He gave his life. When he had no reason… If they hadn’t taken him away that day-

MINERVA: My fault.

YOUNG DEDE: Yes. Your fault. Your stupid little love letter..

MINERVA: It was an accident.

YOUNG DEDE: But who got screwed over? Dad, and the rest of us. Before that night, El Jefe looked at us with kind eyes.

MINERVA: That’s what you want?

YOUNG DEDE: He never bothered us. We were fine. The only reason he invited you to the party is because he wanted to have his way with you.

PATRIA: I didn’t here for this. Come on, Mate.

YOUNG DEDE: You’re a revolutionary? Running around here and there with your backpacks and weapons and your assassination games. But I don’t see you in the line of fire. Always in the back.

MINERVA: You have no idea-

YOUNG DEDE: Letting the other group take the lead with this and that. Brave with words, that’s all you are.

MINERVA: Braver than you, sitting here, looking out the window.

66

YOUNG DEDE: How could you say such a thing?

MINERVA: What are you doing, Dede? Explain it to me. What are you doing while we’re…

YOUNG DEDE: *…Minerva…look, I do what I can, you know…I always… but, it’s not safe….every day, this place gets worse, and I can’t…I can’t…

MINERVA: Risk being with us?

YOUNG DEDE: It’s not that.

MINERVA: Then, help us. Be with us. We only want you to help us try to get this poor country (out of all of this shit)… Just be together again. It’s been such a long time, mujer.

DEDE: …

A moment. Minerva and Maria Teresa exit.

PATRIA: If you change your mind…you know where to find us.

Patria leaves. Dede (Younger) remains alone for a moment.

The American Woman looks at her, writing across time.

MUJER AMERICANA: el vacio del silencio

llena su ser

enciende la radio,

(y) deja sus lagrimas correr.

un mar electrico la acompana en la noche,

y dentro de ese mar, una voz,

una voz lejana,

la hace temblar.

DEDE (Mayor): Una voz que me parecía conocida.

DJ como LIO (un discurso en la radio, en la intimidad de la noche): Escuchen, compañeros,

le decimos a los imperialistas que nuestras islas, nuestros países,

no van a ser vacas de ternero para sus interéses financieros.

Que quede bien claro, compañeros, La revolución es en serio.

67

DEDE(Mayor) : Era la voz de Lio.

DEDE (Menor) Lio Morales. Tanto tiempo que no escuchaba su voz.

DEDE (Mayor): Apena’ lo reconocia. Sus palabras eran distintas.

DJ: La voz dominicana…Las ultimas noticias desde el exilio para nuestros compañeros en la pais…radio libre…

DEDE (Mayor): Una vez escuchaba la radio y oi una voz que me parecía conocida.

DJ como LIO (un discurso en la radio): Escuchen, compañeros,

le decimos a los imperialistas que nuestras islas, nuestros países,

no van a ser vacas de ternero para sus interéses financieros.

Que quede bien claro, compañeros, La revolución es en serio.

DEDE(Mayor) : Era la voz de Lio.

DEDE (Menor) Lio Morales. Tanto tiempo que no escuchaba su voz.

DEDE (Mayor): Apena’ lo reconocia. Sus palabras eran distintas.

DJ como LIO (en el discurso en la radio): Que quede bien claro, compañeros,

no vamos a soportar que nos aplasten

como hormiguitas sucias que no saben por donde van.

Nosotros si, compañeros, tenemos el futuro en nuestras manos. Nuestro futuro.

Futuro y revolución!

DEDE (Mayor): Lio Morales en una estación pirata, y pensé

DJ como Lio desvanece.

DEDE (Menor) ¿porque yo no hago algo?

DEDE (Mayor) ¿Porque no me atrevo?

DEDE (Menor) Jaimito me dijo: Si te vas, te dejaré para siempre. Y pensé,…

DEDE (Mayor): Me voy. Tengo que estar en esa reunión. Ver por mí misma.

DEDE (Menor): Una semana más tarde, la policía secreta de Trujillo quemó la casa de Patria. Y, despues, fueron arrestadas Mate y Minerva…

DEDE (Mayor): and y allí me quedé yo, como siempre: al esperar.

68

Scene 21.

1960. Mate and Minerva are in prison in the town of La Victoria.

MARIA TERESA: Dark.

MINERVA: They keep us in the…

MARIA TERESA: And then suddenly

MINERVA: Lights.

Breath.

MARIA TERESA: There are twenty-four women

MINERVA: Their voices pierce the…

MARIA TERESA: Some, like us.

MINERVA: Some, criminals.

MARIA TERESA: Like us?

MINERVA: I don’t want to think…

Breath.

MARIA TERESA: Look out the window

MINERVA: Try to glean what’s…

MARIA TERESA: Outside.

MINERVA: Rain, sometimes

MARIA TERESA: Hot, muddy

MINERVA: Like the dance that day when…

MARIA TERESA: And then, screams

MINERVA: From some other…another building

MARIA TERESA: Another building where there’s a room known as La Cuarenta

MINERVA: Where they torture

69

Breath.

MARIA TERESA: Please. No.

MARIA TERESA: Be strong. … Mate?

MARIA TERESA: Will they take you today?

MINERVA: How many questions?

MARIA TERESA: Try not to think.

MINERVA: Don’t answer.

MARIA TERESA: And if the guard?

MINERVA: The guard, the turtle, wants,

MARIA TERESA: we won’t give

MINERVA: If the turtle wants…

Fuck the turtle.

MARIA TERESA: Give him sweets.

Breath.

MINERVA: Don’t cry.

MARIA TERESA: And I

MINERVA: Pray.

MARIA TERESA: Prayers are not allowed.

MINERVA: I call to God.

MARIA TERESA: Silence.

MINERVA: In a room with no sound, days and days.

Breath.

MARIA TERESA: I draw in the diary, the diary in my mind

Projection: drawing of the jail cell

1960. From here to here: four steps

70

Projection: drawing of a line

From here to here: a hole to shit in

Projection: drawing of a circle in the ground

From here to here: a wall

Projection: drawing of a wall

From here to here:

A blank page. A moment.

MINERVA: Muevete, mi nina, muévete

MARIA TERESA: Muevete al despertar

MINERVA & VOCES DE OTRAS MUJERES DE LA CARCEL: Muevete, mi nina, muevete

MARIA TERESA: Lanzate al puro mar.

MARIA TERESA & VOCES DE OTRAS MUJERES DE LA CARCEL: Muevete, mi niña, muévete

Muevete al despertar

Muevete, mi niña, muevete

MINERVA y MUJERES: Lanza un desafio

MARIA TERESA: a ellos

TODAS: Que nos quieren matar.

Lanza un desafio

Contra ellos

Que nos quieren-

La canción es interrumpida por

Un ruido eléctrico. Un escalofrio. Silencio.

They are interrupted by a metallic sound. Shiver. Silence.

MINERVA: can’t hear you.

MARIA TERESA: right here.

71

MINERVA: Tell me that story about the cute boys and their amazing smiles.

MARIA TERESA: don’t remember.

MINERVA: Red shoes and Vanidades.

MARIA TERESA: don’t remember.

Breath.

MINERVA: This was when…

MARIA TERESA: Don’t sleep.

MINERVA: This was when…

MARIA TERESA: I’m stripped.

MINERVA: can’t remember.

MARIA TERESA: I won’t say anything, not even if…

MINERVA: They tie me down.

MARIA TERESA: And let electricity run through…

MINERVA: Mate? … Mate?

Projection: word crossed out Mate

MARIA TERESA: …

Song is heard, faintly, sung by the women in prison.

VOICES OF WOMEN IMPRISONED (VO, sung): Muevete, mi niña, muévete.

Muevete, al despertar.

Muevete, mi niña, muevate

A moment. Across time, Minerva and Mate look at Dede (Older), who is seen through and out of the sound of the voices of the women.

MINERVA: Your sentence is:

MARIA TERESA: Look out the window.

72

Escena 22

Tiempo se desplaza hacia el presente.

DEDE (Mayor): Mirar por la ventana. Eso era todo lo que podía hacer.

MUJER AMERICANA: …Mi madre dice que eso es lo que estuve haciendo casi toda mi adolescencia. Mirando por la ventana, imaginandome como era la vida.

DEDE (Mayor): ¿Las escritoras miran por las ventanas?

MUJER AMERICANA: El mundo es una ventana para una escritora. Cuando escribo, miro por la ventana e intento imaginar

DEDE (Mayor): Lo que pasaron ellas.

MUJER AMERICANA: Lo que todos… en otras lugares… más lejanos…

DEDE (Mayor): En aquel entonces, sentí que ser Dominicana era algo asi: como alguien mirando por una ventana, tratando de ver lo que podía ser posible, imaginando tierras… lejanas

MUJER AMERICANA: Y mirando como el país

DEDE (Mayor): Se movia, de aquí y para alla mientras El Jefe se aguantaba, feroz, desgraciado …Pobre Patria.

Se ve a Patria al otro lado del escenario, en tiempo pasado.

Durante los meses que estuvieron Minerva y Mate en la cárcel, ella no hacia na’ mas que rezar, y hacer gestiones para ver como podia sacar a nuestras hermanas de ese lugar. Le mandaba notitas escondidas en paquetes de dulces y comida, se las ingeniaba para indagar. Ella y yo esperando y esperando.

Se ve a Dede Menor a otro lado del escenario, en tiempo pasado.

Hasta que, por fin, la Organización de Estados Americanos envió inspectores a la prisión. Y Mate fue capaz de decirles lo que ella había sufrido y lo que otras mujeres en la 40 habían… Si la OEA hubiera llegado al principio… Mate y Minerva y muchas personas mas hubieran sufrido menos, mucho menos. Pero, lo de la OEA y las investigaciones trabajo, y las sacaron de la cárcel. A El Jefe no le gustaban los escandolos, sabes. Y queria estar bien con la CIA y tu país. Echarse a America en contra, no era buen negocio, no. Ni pa’ el, ni pa’ nadie. Pero, asi y todo, ‘taban encarceladas.

MUJER AMERICANA: ¿En que sentido?

DEDE (Mayor): Las mandaron a la casa, pero no podían salir sin permiso. Habia siempre alguien vigilándolas. ¿Y los maridos? A los maridos lo’ dejaron en la cárcel. Pa’ ellos, no había salvación.

73

MUJER AMERICANA: Mis padres dicen que cuando a Mate y Minerva las pusieron en la cárcel,

Se ve a Mate y Minerva en otro lado del escenario, en tiempo pasado.

no podían dejar de pensar en ellas y en toda la gente que estaba sufriendo en su país. Gente venia a la casa, exiliados Dominicanos en Nueva York…Usted sabe’ como la gente en el exilio se comunica…y, bueno, se pasaban horas de horas tratando de arreglar el país desde lejos; hablaban sobre Trujillo y sobre sus hermanas… Y yo en mi cuarto, escuchando, mirando…

DEDE: Por tu ventana…

MUJER AMERICANA: Asi es.

DEDE (Mayor): Ningunas de las dos podemos imaginarnos completamente lo que ellas sufrieron. Testigos. Somos como testigos de la historia, la verdad, los cuentos, la memoria. Pero eso es todo. Nuestros cuerpos estan sanos. Un rasguño con una rosa en el jardín, y chillamos! Imaginete lo que pasaron ellas… cuando El Jefe puso sus garfios en la tierra…bien que las puso. Requete bien! Treinta y un años, treinta y un largos años desgraciados en el poder… ¿Y que hice yo? Todo ese tiempo.

MUJER AMERICANA: Fuiste una buena hermana.

74

Scene 23.

1960. Minerva at home under house arrest. She is not well. A small cup of soup at her side. Mate sits with her. Patria sits, knitting. Dede (Younger) cuts flowers.

PATRIA: We’ll go to church tomorrow.

MINERVA: Church and jail. Our only destinations.

MARIA TERESA: It’s what they allow us.

YOUNG DEDE: At least you can go somewhere. Think of all those other people who…

MINERVA: I don’t even know what’s happening in the world. Might as well have stayed in prison.

YOUNG DEDE: Don’t say that, please.

MINERVA: It’s what I feel.

PATRIA: Now. Now. At least we’ve each other.

MINERVA: The valiant butterflies? All we did, and what? Our husbands in jail, and the country is the same as always.

PATRIA: Not the same.

MINERVA: How would you know? Are we allowed any news?

YOUNG DEDE: Those men the other day were distributing leaflets…

MINERVA: And all of them were arrested. Like I said: the same as…

A moment.

YOUNG DEDE: (pricks herself accidently with a thorn from a rose): Ay. Cursed flower.

PATRIA: Leave that now.

YOUNG DEDE: We need…

MINERVA: And El Jefe right there, year after year…

PATRIA: Maybe one day.

MARIA TERESA: When we’re dead, maybe.

YOUNG DEDE: Mate.

75

MARIA TERESA: I dream about it sometimes. I look down and see an open coffin filled with blouses and dresses and shoes…

YOUNG DEDE: A nightmare, that’s all.

MARIA TERESA: And then, I see our husbands, inside the coffin, and I feel as if I’m already…

PATRIA: We have to try to…

MINERVA: (sings) Muevete, mi nina, muevate.

MARIA TERESA: (sings) Muevete al despertar.

YOUNG DEDE: …What’s that?

MINERVA: A song.

PATRIA: I don’t know it.

MINERVA: It’s a song we made up.

A moment.

YOUNG DEDE: A little more soup?

MINERVA: I don’t want anymore.

YOUNG DEDE: You have to eat.

MINERVA: I’m not hungry.

YOUNG DEDE: You can’t go on like this. You’ll get sick.

MINERVA: So?

YOUNG DEDE: What do you mean, “so?” We’re here, right? We’re sisters. You suffered enough in that cursed jail to go around like this without any will or spirit or anything. I won’t let you get sick.

MINERVA: (a gesture of affection towards Dede) Later, later, I’ll have a bit more.

YOUNG DEDE: You will. I’ll make sure of it.

PATRIA: Both of you there in that cursed jail day after day, and us, out here, without knowing anything, without being able to do almost anything.

YOUNG DEDE: We did what we could. Wretched swine. Wretched sons-of

76

Dede (younger) won’t let herself finish the phrase, out of habit or perhaps a kind of modesty. The sisters laugh. She does as well.

PATRIA: There. There.

MINERVA: “History will absolve us”

YOUNG DEDE: What’s that?

MARIA TERESA: Fidel. A line from one of his speeches.

YOUNG DEDE: What do I care about him? Is he going to come here and fix things in this country? No, no… The only “history” I see here is that you have to get better, get back your fighting spirit and carry on.

MINERVA: Fight the big fight?

PATRIA: We have to do something to keep going. We can’t let our whole world fall apart, no matter how much they’d like it to. They already transferred our husbands to another jail, even further away (than the one before). If they keep on like that, one day they’ll send them God knows where.

MINERVA: Puerto Plata.

MARIA TERESA: We should go.

YOUNG DEDE: Ay, I don’t know, it’s so far, niña. You know what the roads are like up there? You should stay here.

MARIA TERESA: Doing what, flying kites?

PATRIA: They said we could visit them there, much more than (where they were) before. If we go, at least we’d be doing something useful with our time.

MINERVA: I don’t want to go anywhere.

PATRIA: We can’t just sit on our hands.

MINERVA: Why not? Why do we have to be the famous Butterflies, after all? We’ve spent our entire lives running and running, fighting and fighting…

YOUNG DEDE: …Some flowers, a little flan… we’ll take things one step at a time. At least we can see each other. Ay, that’s worth its weight in gold. I’ll make you a little flan with a little rum and coconut: you’ll see.

MINERVA: Dede, you don’t have to stay. We can manage.

YOUNG DEDE: But it’s almost curfew. Between one thing and another, I won’t have time to go back home now.

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MARIA TERESA: You’re going to make with rum? Really?

YOUNG DEDE: Naturally.

MARIA TERESA: I’ll help you, then.

YOUNG DEDE: Epa. That’s the spirit.

PATRIA: Oye, but not with too much rum, because then it doesn’t taste good.

YOUNG DEDE: (lightly teasing) You’re going to get in the middle of everything now?

PATRIA: Like always.

MARIA TERESA: Leave the kitchen to me.

YOUNG DEDE: All of us! Come on.’

Maria Teresa and Patria go within.

YOUNG DEDE: …Come on, mujer.

MINERVA: I want to rest a bit.

YOUNG DEDE: …Well…

Dede (Younger) walks away. Minerva closes her eyes and rests. While The American Woman is heard, conjuring this moment, across time:

MUJER AMERICANA: El sueño tranquilo de días desciende,

El ritmo dormilon de una nana interminable.

Las mariposas extienden sus brazos

Y escapan un suspiro.

Mariposas inquietas, hermosas

Cambio de tiempo. Aspecto de tiempo concreto y tiempo de halucinacion.

Minerva esta media dormida.

DJ como Trujillo aparece. El se acerca a ella.

DJ como TRUJILLO: ¿Como ‘ta mi bella durmiente?

MINERVA: ¿Que haces aquí?

DJ como TRUJILLO: Vengo a ver a la famosa mariposa. Casi ere’ tan famosa como yo. Te dije una vez: estábamos destinados uno para el otro. E’ una pena que no supiste aprovechar mi admiración por ti.

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MINERVA: Nunca lo admire, Generalisimo.

DJ como TRUJILLO: Rafael. Por favor.

MINERVA: No tengo nada que decirle, señor.

DJ como TRUJILLO: Puedo hacerte la vida ma’ fácil. Solo tienes que pedirme perdón.

MINERVA: No entiendo.

DJ como TRUJILLO: Quiza’ las personas nunca se entienden. Quiza’ siempre seremos estrellas orbitando uno tra’ la otra. Sabes, me esperaba que estuvieras…

MINERVA: ¿Derotada? ¿Hecha carne y hueso? ¿Asi e’ como lo quiere? Esa imagen no se la voy a dar.

DJ como TRUJILLO: Te confundes conmigo.

MINERVA: ¿Si? ¿Como e’ que me confundo, Generalismo? En que hora y minuto de mi existencia, fuera de la cárcel, en la cárcel, aquí en e’ta prisión di’frazada de casa, he estado confundida? ¿Cuando me hizo esperar tres semanas mientras mi padre se estaba muriendo en la cárcel todos esos años atrás? ¿Fue esa mi confusión? Yo no me confundo con Usted. Nunca me he confundido.

Un momento.

DJ como TRUJILLO: ¿De donde saliste, Minerva, diosa de la sabiduría?

MINERVA: Del mar. Tu sabe’ muy bien. Las diosas salen del mar y se devoran a los humanos.

DJ como TRUJILLO: Te siente’ poderosa, mi diosa. Bueno, bueno…En poco tiempo vas a ver… todo ese poder donde estara.

DJ como TRUJILLO se va.

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Scene 24.

In present time, Dede (Older) and Dede (Younger) looks back to November 25, 1960, the day her sisters went to Puerto Plata prison.

OLD DEDE: November 25, 1960. Patria, Minerva, Maria Teresa and their dedicated chauffer Rufino, a simple man, readied to go to Puerto Plata to visit their husbands in jail.

YOUNG DEDE: I’d stayed with them the night before, because they were going to visit their husbands in prison the next day.

OLD DEDE: A storm loomed on the horizon, and the Jeep in which they were going to tavel was not in good condition.

YOUNG DEDE: I said: Don’t go. They said: You can come with us.

OLD DEDE: But I said: No. No. The weather’s too unpredictable. It’s not a good day to go on a trip.

YOUNG DEDE: I’ll stay here, locked up in the house, dying of worry thinking about you.

OLD DEDE: They laughed. Oh, that Dede, always so melodramatic!

YOUNG DEDE: I was about to cry.

OLD DEDE: (when) Minerva came up to me and kissed me on the forehead and said “We’ll be all right.”

YOUNG DEDE: Patria, Minerva, Maria Teresa, Rufino: I never saw them again.

Dede (Younger) fades. The American Woman writes, across time.

AMERICAN WOMAN: The sisters look up at the sky. Rain clouds on the horizon.

They become frightened for a second, but then they carry on.

Maria Teresa fixes her hair. Patria smoothes her skirt.

Minerva looks at the garden and sees a little jar, forgotten, among the flowers.

The memory of an afternoon when her sisters played freely, happily, comes back to her.

She stops for a moment. A slight smile lingers on her lips.

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Time shifts to 1960. Heading to Puerto Plata prison. Projection: miles and miles of lone country road. Inside the jeep:

PATRIA: Puerto Plata!

MARIA TERESA: Vamo’ a Puerto Plata, vamo’ a Puerto Plata.

PATRIA: Como si fueramo’ unas niñas.

MINERVA Y MARIA TERESA: Lindo Puerto Plata, lindo Puerto Plata.

PATRIA: ¿Que hago yo con estas hermanas?

DJ como RUFINO: No puede’ hacer nada, señora. Son un caso imposible.

MARIA TERESA Y MINERVA: Vamos, vamos, vamos a Puerto Plata!

PATRIA:… Asi no e’ la canción.

MINERVA: Yo que se. Nosotras inventando.

PATRIA: Como una escritora.

Un momento.

PATRIA: Esta oscuro, Rufino.

DJ como RUFINO: Lluvia. Eso e’ lo que han dicho.

MARIA TERESA: Temporada de huracanes.

PATRIA: La lluvia pasará. Tiene que...

DJ como RUFINO: Voy a tener cuidado en la carretera.

MINERVA: No queremos lo que ocurrió la última vez, Rufino.

DJ como RUFINO: Ni usted ni yo, señora. Fue de susto ese viaje.

PATRIA: Gracia’, Rufino, por todo. Nadie nos queria llevar.

DJ como RUFINO: Me atrevo, eso e’ todo, porque…bueno, porque no es justo que…

MARIA TERESA: ¿Qué dijeron la última vez?

MINERVA: Que iban a estar esa carcel un par de meses.

PATRIA: Todo este problema de mover lo’ preso’ de aquí pa’ alla.

DJ como RUFUNO: El Jefe sabe lo que hace.

MINERVA: ¿Eso e’ lo que tu crees, de verdad?

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DJ como RUFINO: Tengo que creerlo, señora. Este e’el único trabajo que tengo.

MARIA TERESA: Oyeme, ¿crees que podemos detenernos en El Gallo por un rato?

PATRIA: Mate.

MARIA TERESA: Nosotro’ deberíamo’ comprar algo: lucir bien, carteras nuevas para darles animo (a ellos) cuando nos vean.

MINERVA: ¿Qué vamos a hacer con carteras nuevas?

MARIA TERESA: No hemos comprado nada desde (la cárcel)… Será divertido.

MINERVA: ¿Qué tipo de cartera?

MARIA TERESA: Roja de charol.

PATRIA: No para mi.

MINERVA: Me gustaría un maletin de negocio.

PATRIA: ¿Piensas en finalmente ser abogada?

MINERVA: Soy abogada.

MARIA TERESA: … ¿Tiene radio este jeep?

MINERVA: Sin noticias del mundo.

DJ como RUFINO: A vece’ e’ mejor no sabe n’a.. No saber na’ de na’. Se duerme mejor por la noche.

MINERVA: Dormir y dormir, eso es lo único que se hace aquí en este país… Y eso?

PATRIA: Que?

MINERVA: Adelante.

MARIA TERESA: No veo nada.

MINERVA: Mira.

Una constelación de mariposas en el aire. Luz brillante.

Silencio.

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Scene 25

In the afterlife, the sisters speak.

MINERVA: A truck.

PATRIA: Rufino, just keep going. Keep going.

MINERVA: …A car blocked the road. .

MARIA TERESA: Come on, get out. This way, they said. Towards the grove of sugar cane.

MINERVA: They walked a bit when

PATRIA: I ran and ran, and shouted. “Someone, dear God, please tell the Mirabal family they’re going to kill us.”

MINERVA: There were five men.

PATRIA: They took turns beating us.

MARIA TERESA: They tried to cut my braids.

MINERVA: I tried to run.

PATRIA: But they wouldn’t let us.

MARIA TERESA: They took each of us to separate areas of the grove. The smell of rain and sugar cane drenched our senses.

MINERVA: Mate, where are you?

MARIA TERESA: Minerva, where are you?

MINERVA: Patria?

PATRIA: They clubbed me to death.

MINERVA: With sticks.

MARIA TERESA: They tore me open onto the fields of sugar…

A moment. DJ as RUFINO steps forward, in the afterlife.

DJ como RUFINO: (mirando al terreno de la muerte como desde el cielo)

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Ese era mi brazo. Esa, ahí, era mi pierna.

Y ahí…tira’o entre las matas silvestres, una cadenita del angel de la guardia.

Me la dio mi mama. Pa’ que ‘te protegido siempre.

Y ahí se quedo, con lo’ resto’ de mi cuerpo.

Rufino se dirige ahora, atraves del tiempo, a la Mujer Americana.

¿Porque me mataron?

Porque ’taba ahí. Simplemente por eso.

Porque lo’ calie’ no querían que nadie ‘tuviera vivo pa’ contar…

No soy héroe.

Lo que hice ese dia… lo hubiera hecho cualquier otro.

Ella’ tenían que ver a sus esposo’. Lo extrañaban.

Yo era chofer. Eso es todo.

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Scene 26

Time shifts to the present.

OLD DEDE: And then silence.

And four pine boxes are put in a car and buried in the earth.

A necklace.

A shoe.

A red patent leather strap.

An earring.

…

What are we left with?

AMERICAN WOMAN: …Listening, writing, and listening once again.

I came here to find a story…

OLD DEDE: I tell our story. You tell yours.

AMERICAN WOMAN: When I go back to New York, I’ll face the blank page

OLD DEDE: And then?

AMERICAN WOMAN: We’ll see.

OLD DEDE: …It’s all inside us, child. Everything.

A moment.

AMERICAN WOMAN: What’s that?

DEDE: Hmm?

AMERICAN WOMAN: Like a…strange light…

(a vision): …Patria, Minerva, Maria Teresa…

They’re here.

DEDE: They’re always here. They’re always alive in the garden.

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