The Wake

Note: To read the previous installment of this play, please follow this link.

ACT I Scene II

[Rina and Arturo in studio. Enter Martin]

Martin: Hi Mom, hi Dad. [Hugs Rina and Arturo, they are somewhat distant to him]

Rina: Oh mi’jo we were just talking about you. Are you hungry? Want me to make you something to eat…How’s Melissa? [Getting up]

Martin: No mom. I just came to ask a favor…Melissa’s good.

Rina: Oh. Okay. [Sits, Rina and Arturo exchange glances and nods]

Martin: Well…actually Melissa…is not good.

[Fades as Martin begins to discuss problem. Audience can’t hear but can see the discussion. Arturo reaches in his wallet and gives Martin money. Exit Martin.]

[Same room. Rina and Arturo working again.]

Rina: Can you believe that Melissa, Arturo? Running off like that and leaving her kids behind…and to go to school. Hm! Abandoning her own children, what kind of mother does that?

Arturo: Ay, que Melissa…

Rina: And now pobre mi’jo…to raise them alone…he can barely care for himself…

Arturo: He’s going to need our help.

Rina: Si, Viejo.

[Pause]

[Crash, Pocatzin]

Rina: Pocatzin?

Arturo: Otra vez? Woman, it’s not a ghost!

Rina: Pocatzin, please show yourself so that this old goat will shut up.

Arturo: Old goat? Old goat! [Angry mumbling…]

[Pocatzin shows herself like Virgin of Guadalupe, Arturo can’t see her]

Rina: Ay, Dios mio!

Arturo: See, now you’re scaring yourself. [Laughing]

Rina: No, Arturo, she’s really…see there!

Arturo: Callate, mujer—there’s nothing—

Rina: Shh! She’s talking…

Arturo: I can’t hear noth—

Rina: Quiet.

Pocatzin: Cuale tonalli. I have been trying to get your attention for some time now…

Rina: Yes I know…Arturo can be so stubborn…

Pocatzin: Yes, I know…but I haven’t got much time and I have so much to tell you.

Rina: You do?

Pocatzin: Of course…

Rina: But why me?

Arturo: You’re crazy…[exits]

Pocatzin: You’ll understand once I finish, but please, be patient. I’m new at this. No one ever sees me.

Rina: Okay, Go on.

Pocatzin: What Arturo said is true. I died in Europe of pneumonia or tuberculosis or some other gachupine disease. My Hernan Smith left me to die on the shore there and I have been searching for him ever since. I thought he might be here…

Rina: Is he?

Pocatzin: I’m not sure…I don’t see him…Do you?

Rina: No…what does he look like?

Pocatzin: Well, you won’t believe this but he is not the tall blond ideal you see in movies and books. Hernan Smith was short and fat. Heck, I was short and fat. You know, I was a young girl the first time I saw Hernan Smith. I noticed his eyes his blue-blue eyes…or were they brown? Well, anyway, the first time I saw Hernan Smith…

:: About the Playwright ::

Ayme Almendarez, originally from Fresno, California, is a graduate student at the University of Minnesota where she is currently studying creative writing, poetry. She is interested in ancient history and dance. Her poetry has been published in the anthology, “Night is gone, Day is Still Coming.”