Three Plays: The Young Lady from Tacna, Kathie and the Hippopotamus, La Chunga (16 page)

ANA: No doubt another of my middle-class failings?
SANTIAGO: All marriages go through crises. The sensible thing to do is to split up without making a fuss. And make it
up again later. But you had to turn the whole thing into a Greek tragedy.
ANA: It’s all that education you gave me. That’s probably the trouble. Weren’t you the one who ‘rescued’ me from the middle classes? Didn’t you teach me to view everything not from an individual standpoint but from a moral, social, revolutionary one? Right, when judged on that criterion you behaved abominably. (
Approaches him lovingly
.) But these are your problems, not mine. I let you go, I let you come back. We separated and we made it up again when you wanted to. I put up with you telling me all about the psyche and the libido, and your theory of love based on mutual co-operation, and the fact that you only made love to me once in a blue moon. But it really isn’t my fault if you happen to like Greek tragedy, Mark Griffin.
(SANTIAGO
leans against her and
ANA
strokes his head, as if he were a little boy
.)
SANTIAGO: It’s true, I’m an incorrigible romantic, but wouldn’t it be nice for once in one’s life to play the lead in a Greek tragedy?
(
They both look at
JUAN
, who has finished surfing and is now strutting about like a peacock: an imaginary crowd of people congratulate him and pat him on the back. He exhibits the cup he’s won at the surfing championship. He looks happy and a little intoxicated
.)
JUAN: (
To
KATHIE) Why didn’t you come to the party they gave for me, darling? You’re never there when I need you. Everyone was asking for you and I didn’t know what to say to them. Why didn’t you come? It was in honour of the cup-winner, Kathie! And that cup-winner happens to be your husband! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?
KATHIE: Absolutely nothing, Johnny darling. I’m fed up to the back teeth with your championships, your surfing and your celebrations. That’s why I didn’t go to the party and that’s why I’ll never go to anything to do with surfing again. Because I’ve never seen quite so much idiocy or quite so many idiots as I have among surfers.
JUAN: I know what the matter with you is. You’re envious.
KATHIE: Of you?
JUAN: Yes, of me. Because I go in for championships and I win them. Because I’m lionized and photographed, and parties are given in my honour. Not only in Peru, but in Hawaii, Sydney and South Africa as well. Oh yes, you’re envious all right. Because you’re a famous little nobody, whose only claim to fame is the fact that you’re my wife. That’s why you knock surfing the whole time. Pure envy.
KATHIE: (
Laughing
) I quite understand why you think I’m envious of you, Johnny darling.
JUAN: And you’re jealous too. Don’t try and deny it! You’re desperately jealous of all the young girls who are constantly coming up to me. Because there are dozens of them, hundreds of them in Lima, Hawaii, Australia and in South Africa – all feeding out of my hand.
KATHIE: It’s quite true. They’re bowled over just because some halfwit can keep his balance on a surfboard …
JUAN: And there you are – eating your heart out. The only reason you didn’t go to my party was so that you wouldn’t have to see all the pretty girls that were there, flirting with me. Because they’re young and you’re getting old. Because they’re pretty and you’re getting ugly. Because you’re eating your heart out with jealousy.
KATHIE: Not any more. I ate my heart out to begin with. Those first few months, those first few years.
JUAN: You still do. Every time a girl takes my fancy, your face becomes all contorted, and your voice starts to quaver. Do you think I don’t notice?
KATHIE: (
Lost in her memories, not hearing him
) I couldn’t believe it. Every time I found you out, I nearly died. Were you with Adelita? Yes, you were. Were you with Julie? Yes, you were. With Jessie? Yes, with Jessie. With my closest friends, with my worst enemies. I felt humiliated, hurt, knocked sideways. It is true, I was eating my heart out with jealousy. I felt the world was coming to an end, I was the most helpless creature on earth. How could you go
around making love here, there and everywhere while at the same time telling me you loved me?
JUAN: (
A little confused, trying to call a truce
) And what on earth’s that got to do with it? Love is one thing, making love another. Of course I loved you. Don’t I still? Even though you didn’t come to my party. You let me down, silly. That’s all. But all this business about making love, I’ve already explained it to you: it doesn’t mean anything. It really doesn’t count. I take all these girls to bed with me and pssht, I forget about them. Like going out for a drink, or changing my shirt. It’s a physical necessity. To keep the old dicky bird happy. I don’t put my heart into it, silly. That’s reserved for you. It’s like when you were my girlfriend, remember? ‘I can’t go out with you tonight, because I’m going out with a floosie.’ I ask you: Whoever heard of a girl getting jealous just because her boyfriend goes out with a floosie? Well, it’s the same thing, don’t you understand?
KATHIE: I understand perfectly. That’s why I’m not jealous any more. It wasn’t out of jealousy I didn’t go to your party.
JUAN: (
Conciliatory
) All right, I said that because I was in a temper. I’m over it now. I’ll let you off this time. But just this once, mind. Don’t ever play such a dirty trick on me again. (
Smiling
) Now whisper in my ear, so that no one can hear you, do I or do I not drive you wild with jealousy?
KATHIE: You never drive me wild with jealousy now, Johnny darling.
JUAN: (
Playing, and making a great show of affection
) Tell me I do, that I drive you wild, go on, I like it. Does your little husband drive you wild with jealousy?
KATHIE: One gets jealous when one’s in love. I stopped loving you some time ago now, Johnny darling.
JUAN: Are you being serious?
KATHIE: When I began to realize what a nonentity, what a fool you were …
JUAN: Have you any idea what you’re saying?
KATHIE: … when I saw how empty your life was, and what
a mess you’d made of mine. It was then I stopped being jealous.
JUAN: So you want an argument, do you? You desert me when I most need you and then you give yourself the luxury of insulting me into the bargain.
KATHIE: It was when I started to despise you – then, my jealousy began to disappear. There’s not a trace of it left now. So you can give your heart as well as your dick to all the pretty girls you want, Johnny darling.
JUAN: Ah, it must really have hurt you, what I said. I was ready to make it up with you, silly. We’d better talk about something else, I’m sick and tired of hearing the same insults over and over again. You’re like a long-playing record.
KATHIE: No, let’s carry on talking about jealousy. After all, you started it. How many times have you been unfaithful to me? How many pretty girls have there been?
JUAN: (
Furious again
) More than you might think.
KATHIE: Twenty? Fifty? A hundred? It can’t be much more than that. (
Calculating
) Let’s see now, we’ve been married ten years – a hundred would make about ten a year, practically one a month. You’re right, it could be more. How about a hundred and fifty? Two hundred?
JUAN: I had all the women I bloody well wanted.
KATHIE: You’ve lost count. But I haven’t, Johnny darling. I know exactly how many times I’ve been unfaithful to you.
JUAN: Don’t play games like that, Kathie.
KATHIE: Eight, to be precise. There were even a few surfers amongst them, just imagine. And the odd champion, I think.
JUAN: You’re not to make jokes like that, Kathie. I won’t have it.
KATHIE: There was Bepo Torres, in the summer of ’57, on Kon Tiki beach. In Bepo’s little bungalow, next to the lighthouse. His wife had taken her mother to the States, for a facelift, remember?
(
Only now does
JUAN
appear to start believing her
.)
JUAN: Are you being serious? Are you telling the truth?
KATHIE: And then there was Ken, the Australian, the first time we went to Sydney. Nineteen fifty-eight, wasn’t it? The one you admired so much, the one who used to get right down into the tunnel of the wave. You were having an affair with that friend of his, Sheila, weren’t you? Well, I had one with him, Johnny darling.
(
His consternation becomes anger, his incredulity fear
.)
JUAN: Do you want me to smash your face in? Do you want me to kill you? What are you trying to do?
KATHIE: Then there was Kike Ricketts, the one who was mad about cars. In 1960, in Hawaii, there was your friend Rivarola, who used to go skin-diving. The following year, in South Africa, there was that German we met on safari, the one who took us to the ostrich farm in Wildemes. Hans, whatever his name was, remember? And then last year, there was Sapito Saldívar.
(
He puts his hand over her mouth. He seems about to strangle her
.)
JUAN: Are you telling me the truth, you bitch?
KATHIE: (
Offering no resistance
) Don’t you want to know who the other two are?
(
He hesitates, releases her. He is sweaty, panting and exhausted
.)
JUAN: Yes.
KATHIE: Harry Santana. And … Abel.
JUAN: (
Nearly out of his mind
) Abel?
KATHIE: Your brother Abel. He’s the one that hurts most, isn’t he? That makes eight. (
Looks at him hard
.) Who’s jealous now?
(JUAN
is completely destroyed. He looks at
KATHIE,
stupefied
.)
JUAN: Things can’t go on like this, you’ll pay for this, you’ll be sorry. And those swine are going to be even more sorry still. No, this won’t do, it just won’t do.
(
He sobs. He buries his face in his hands as he weeps.
KATHIE
looks on indifferently
.)
Why did you do this to me?
KATHIE: (
Deeply depressed
) To get my own back for all those pretty girls you took to bed with you under my very nose.
Because I was bored, I wanted somehow to fill the emptiness in my life. And also because I was hoping to find someone worth while, someone I could fall in love with, who could add colour to my life …
JUAN: You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to blow your brains out.
KATHIE: You don’t have to do that, Johnny darling. It’s a bit extreme. One bullet in the heart will do the trick, provided you shoot straight. I probably told you all this for that very reason. I’m sick of myself too.
JUAN: And your children? What about them?
KATHIE: Yes, I’m sick of them as well. They didn’t change anything. And I’m not even interested in watching them grow up, in waiting to see what they’re going to do in life. I know perfectly well already. They’re going to turn into idiots, like you and me.
JUAN: You’ve got no feelings at all; you really are a monster.
KATHIE: I wasn’t when I married you, Johnny darling. You see, I wasn’t just a pretty girl. I was restless, and curious too. I wasn’t just rich, I also wanted to learn, to improve myself, to do things in life. Admittedly I was rather ignorant and frivolous. But I still had time to change. You put paid to that, though. Living with you made me become like you. (
Turns towards
SANTIAGO.) I should have met you when I was young, Mark.
(
Throughout the following scene,
JUAN
gradually gets drunk
.)
SANTIAGO: Can you imagine what I was like as a young man, Kathie?
KATHIE: As clearly as if I were seeing it now.
SANTIAGO: (
In eager anticipation
) What was I like, Kathie? Tell me, please.
KATHIE: You were born in the dirty, disorderly world of the suburbs, you were an orphan and you went to a state school. You eked out a living by working as a shoeshine boy, minding cars, selling lottery tickets and newspapers.
ANA: (
Stroking his head sympathethically
) In fact you went to the Salesian Fathers. Your parents weren’t poor, they just
weren’t very well off. Yet you didn’t get a job till you were twenty.
KATHIE: You didn’t go to the Catholic University, you didn’t have the money, and besides, you were an atheist. So you went to the National one, to San Marcos. You were a brilliant student from the very first day. Always the first to arrive at the faculty and the last to leave. How many hours did you spend in the libraries, Mark?
SANTIAGO: A great many, a great many.
ANA: And how many playing pool in the bars on Azángaro Street? Did you ever get to the lectures on philosophy? Or Ancient History? Because you were a terrible lazybones, Mark Griffin.
KATHIE: How many books a week did Victor Hugo read? Two, three, sometimes one a day.

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