Yes, it’s true, you’re right about what you’re thinking. It was very wicked what I did to the little girl. I could fool Padre García, but not you. I know that when I die, God will punish me for it.
LA CHUNGA: Why wait so long, Monito?
MECHE: We could punish you now.
(EL MONO takes off his belt and gives it to her. He adopts a position suitable for being whipped.)
All right. Take away all my filth — make me pay for my wickedness. Don’t spare me. Take away my honour, Chunga, Mechita.
LA CHUNGA and MECHE: (As they beat him) Naughty little boy! You bad-mannered child! You beastly little boy! You depraved child! Vicious little boy! Wicked child! Degenerate!
(EL MONO groans, receives the strokes, cowering, sweating with a sense of enjoyment that culminates in a spasm of ecstacy. MECHE and LA CHUNGA sit down and watch him. Satisfied but melancholy, he stands up, wipes his forehead, puts on his belt again and combs his hair. Without looking at them he leaves the room discreetly and takes his place again at the table of the superstuds.)
LA CHUNGA: Are you going without even saying goodbye or thank you, Monito?
MECHE: Come back and tell us more whenever you like, Monito.
Two friends
As soon as EL MONO disappears from the room, MECHE and LA CHUNGA change their demeanour, as if the previous scene had not taken place.
LA CHUNGA: Some are better actors than others. But you only have to scratch a little beneath the surface, and there’s a wild beast waiting to pounce.
MECHE: Do you think all men are like that, Chunga? Have they all got something nasty to hide?
LA CHUNGA: All the ones I know do.
MECHE: Are we women any better?
LA CHUNGA: At least what we’ve got between our legs doesn’t turn us into foul demons.
MECHE: (Touching her stomach) Then I hope to goodness it’s a girl.
LA CHUNGA: Are you pregnant?
MECHE: I haven’t had a period for two months.
LA CHUNGA: Haven’t you been to see anyone?
MECHE: I’m afraid they’ll tell me I am.
LA CHUNGA: Don’t you want to have it?
MECHE: Of course I do. But Josefino doesn’t. If I’m pregnant, he’ll make me get rid of it. No woman’s going to tie him down with a child, he says.
LA CHUNGA: He’s right there, I grant him. I don’t think it’s worth while bringing more people into this world. What do you want a child for? If it’s a boy, he’ll only grow up to be just like one of them.
MECHE: If everyone thought like that, life would soon come to an end.
LA CHUNGA: It could end tomorrow for all I care.
(Pause.)
MECHE: Do you know something, Chunga? I don’t think you’re as bitter as you’d have me believe.
LA CHUNGA: And what would I have you believe?
MECHE: If you were, I wouldn’t be here. (There is a twinkle in her eye.) You wouldn’t have given Josefino those three thousand sols for me to spend the night with you. Besides …
LA CHUNGA: Besides what?
MECHE: (Indicating the bed) A little while ago, when you were holding me in your arms, you said some very tender things to me. That I made you feel as if you were in heaven, that you were happy. Were you lying to me?
LA CHUNGA: No. It was true.
MECHE: So life isn’t so ugly after all. It has its advantages too. (Laughs) I’m glad I’m one of the good things life has to offer you, Chunga. (Pause.) Can I ask you a question?
LA CHUNGA: If it’s how many women have been here before you, it’s better you don’t. I’m not going to tell you, anyway. MECHE: No, it’s not that. But, could you ever fall in love with me, Chunga? Like a man does with a woman? Could you ever love me?
LA CHUNGA: I wouldn’t fall in love with you or with anyone else.
MECHE: I don’t believe you, Chunga. No one can live without love. What would life be like if you didn’t love someone, if you weren’t loved by anyone?
LA CHUNGA: When a woman falls in love, she becomes weak. She lets herself be dominated. (Looks at her in silence for a while.) Now do you think that’s a good thing? We’ll talk about it again when you see what Josefino does with your love. We’ll talk about it when you’re in the Casa Verde.
MECHE: Why do you keep frightening me with that?
LA CHUNGA: Because I know what will happen to you. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, he already does what he likes with you. One of these nights, in a fit of drunkenness, he’ll lend you to one of the superstuds, but that’s just the beginning. He’ll end up by persuading you to whore for him, with some cock and bull story about saving money for a little house, or a holiday, or to get married.
MECHE: When you tell me these things, I don’t know if you’re doing it out of kindness or spite. If you really want to help me, or if you just like frightening me.
LA CHUNGA: I want to help you.
MECHE: But why? You couldn’t be in love with me, could you? You’ve just said you weren’t. Why should you want to help me, you, to whom everything is like water off a duck’s back — you who don’t give a damn about anyone.
LA CHUNGA: (Looking at her, thinking) You’re right. I don’t know why I’m giving you advice. Why should your life matter to me?
MECHE: Have you given advice before to one of Josefino’s girlfriends?
LA CHUNGA: No.
(She looks closely at MECHE. Takes her chin in her hand and forces her to look her in the eyes. She puts her face very close to MECHE’s.)
Perhaps I feel sorrier for you than I did for the others, because you’re more attractive. Another one of life’s injustices. If you didn’t have such a pretty little face, I’m quite sure I wouldn’t give a damn what Josefino did with you.
MECHE: Sometimes I think you’re a monster, Chunga.
LA CHUNGA: Because you don’t want to see life as it is. It’s life that’s monstrous. Not me.
MECHE: If life is as you say it is, it’s preferable to be like me. And not to think about what’s going to happen. Just live for the moment. And let God take care of the rest.
(She looks at her stomach, with an expression of despair.)
LA CHUNGA: Perhaps you’ll work that miracle: perhaps you’ll reform Josefino.
MECHE: You know that won’t happen.
LA CHUNGA: No. It won’t happen.
(MECHE leans against LA CHUNGA and rests her head on her shoulder. LA CHUNGA doesn’t embrace her.)
MECHE: I wish I was strong like you. You know your own worth, you can stick up for yourself. If I didn’t have anyone to look after me, I don’t know what I’d do.
LA CHUNGA: You’ve got two hands, haven’t you?
MECHE: I can hardly read, Chunga. Where would I find work? Except as a servant. Sweeping, washing, ironing, morning, noon and night for the rich men of Piura. No, I wouldn’t do that.
(Pause.)
LA CHUNGA: If I’d known that you might be pregnant, I wouldn’t have made love to you.
MECHE: Do pregnant women disgust you?
LA CHUNGA: Yes. (Pause.) Did it upset you, what we did?
MECHE: Upset me? I don’t know. I don’t …
LA CHUNGA: Tell me the truth.