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Chicacabra Reloaded (Ch 2) Confess ‘Till You Drop

May 28, 2011


A Telenovela on Crack


Yoly Solis

Based on the Novel CHICACABRA


            A handful of the faithful sit scattered throughout church
             pews. Sunlight peers through stained glass; dust particles
             dance in its glow.
             The chicas sit in a back pew; Gisela slips on a veil,
             lights a candle under the image of the Virgin Mother. She
                                (church voice)
                           We should tell her.
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           Nuh-uh…let somebody else tell

                           Everybody knows. Everybody!
                                      TIA MARGARITA
                           No one is to say a word,
                           oistes? Let her be happy. So
                           what if it’s a fantasy–
                           happiness doesn’t exist anyway.
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           That’s not true.
                                      TIA MARGARITA
                           Happiness is a figment of the
                           imagination. That’s why crazy
                           people are always smiling.
             Chica chatter intensifies; echoes bounce off the high
                           Conchita la chismosa saw Paco
                           and a puta going into the
                           Sancho Tarros Airport Motel. She
                           emailed pictures–the puta has
                           a culo the size of a camel’s
                                      TIA MARGARITA
                           Esa chismosa should look in her
                           own backyard.
                           You got something on Conchita?
                           Of course! What was she doing
                           at the Tarros Motel?
             Padre Roberto lumbers towards the confessional,his bloodshot
             eyes scan the church, he spots…
             Manny, suit-clad, attractive, designer glasses frame
             sad eyes, head towards Gisela.
             Padre then spots the chicas…
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           Ssssh. Padre Roberto is looking
                           at us.
             The chicas pretend to pray.
             Padre smirks, disappears inside his confessional.

             Gisela crosses herself, stands…
                           Hi, Gisela.
                           Hi, Manny. I keep running into
             Chicas in the back pew…
                           I don’t trust widowers. He
                           killed his wife–I’m sure of it.
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           That’s ridiculous.
                           What do you know? You think
                           sugar is a basic food group.
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           It’s still ridiculous.
                           Then why is he always in
                           church? Church men are ugly–no
                           good looking man hangs out here
                           unless he were guilty of
                           something huge… He’s the
                           Latino O.J., but in his case,
                           the glove fits.
                                      TIA MARGARITA
                           His wife crashed into a semi.
                           Aha! But who was driving the
                           truck, eh? It could have been
                           the widower in disguise. Or he
                           hired a hit on her.
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           Where do you find a hit man–El
                           Clarin Latino? It’s not like
                           they advertise.
                           The Hialeah Mafia, of course.
             Back to Gisela and Manny…

                           So how are you, Manny?
             Manny moves in closer…
             She nods, heads to the confessional. He follows…
                           Are you going to the breakfast
                           after Mass tomorrow?
                           I don’t think so. Did you hear?
                           Paco and I are back together.
                           Ay, Manny, it’s like a second
                           honeymoon. I’m so happy.
                           Oh…uh, I’m happy for you,
             She swings open the confessional door, disappears inside.
             Manny slumps his shoulders, trudges out the door.
             The Chicas stare in contemplation…
                           Tell me he isn’t a murderer–he
                           might even be a serial killer.
             Inside the Confessional…
             Gisela kneels. Muted light brightens inside the closet-size
             room. A shadow peers from behind the screen divide.
                           Bless me, Father, for I have
                                      PADRE ROBERTO 
                           I doubt that, Gisela.
                           No, really, Padre…

                                      PADRE ROBERTO 
                           Why don’t you come by once a
                           month. Accumulate some sins so
                           we have something to talk about.
                           I cannot, Padre. I made a
                                      PADRE ROBERTO 
                           The Virgin Mother will
                           understand. Besides, my stomach
                           is acting up; the aspirin is
                           killing me.
                           Ay, Padre, there are no words
                           to describe the bliss that I
                           feel in my happiness, in the
                           light of God’s love…
             Padre digs inside his pants, whips out an aspirin
             bottle…pops a couple in his mouth, then gulps from a
             silver flask.
             The chicas enter a brightly lit main lobby; viejos sit
             scattered on sofas and wheelchairs; visitors chat away.
             Tia Margarita looks horrified.
             The chicas are on the move. They enter a long Hallway.
                           It’ll only take a minute. I
                           just need to check on abuela.
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           Make it fast–I’m hungry.
                           You’re always hungry.
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           My metabolism runs fast.
                           Yeah, so fast it breaks the
                           sound barrier. Too bad your fat
                           ass can’t keep up.

             Maria Elena is about to erupt…
                                      TIA MARGARITA
                           Shut up, both of you. We are in
                           the devil’s house–a house of
                           evil to torment viejos into
                           submission…then death.
             She grabs Cristina and Maria Elena by the shoulders…
                                      TIA MARGARITA
                           You chicas swore an oath that I
                           would never end up in a place
                           like this. You know what to do
                           when the time comes.
                           You want me to put you out of
                           your misery now? Just say the
                           word, I’m packing heat.
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           The only heat you’re packing is
                           Preparation H for your swollen
                           hemorrhoids, estupida!
                           Who you calling estupida?
                           Sssssh…you’ll upset the
             Inside the Nursing Home’s TV Room…
             Half-a-dozen viejos sit scattered around a 50-inch, flat-
             screen TV. They’re watching “Last Tango in Paris”.
             ABUELA sports blue-tinged, gray hair and alert, bird-like
             eyes. She’s got the best seat in the house.
                                (raises espresso cup)
                           Hit me.
             Bald Viejo lifts his chin in defiance.
                                      BALD VIEJO
                           Get it jouself.
             Abuela crosses her vein-ridden, skinny legs…

             A la Sharon Stone–except she’s wearing support hose and
             orthopedic shoes…It’s her signature move.

                           If jou want action tonight,
                           papi…jou better.
             Bald Viejo gallops his walker towards the rum bottle,
             refills her espresso cup.
             Toothless Vieja shakes an arthritic finger at the screen…
                                      TOOTHLESS VIEJA
                           How Brando do nasty with
                           clothes on? I no like this
                           movie–I want naked hombres.
             Viejo wagging shaky hands shoots out of his wheelchair…
                                      VIEJO WITH SHAKY HANDS
                           I show jou naked…
             He reaches for his pants…but trembling fingers can’t get
             a fix on the zipper.
             Nervous Vieja weighs seventy-pounds, soaking wet. She
             stands watch at the door–the official lookout.
                                      NERVOUS VIEJA
                           Ay, ay, ay! Jou granddaughter
                           is coming.
             They scramble…the TV now blares an excruciatingly painful
             Sabado Gigante episode. Rum bottles are thrown into a
             secret wall compartment.
             Viejos rush to set up dominoes; viejas begin to knit.
             Abuela pretends to be asleep in her chair.
             The chicas enter…
                           Abuela, como estas?
                                (shakes off sleep)
                           Who is there? Who calls me? Is
                           that jou, mama?

                           No, Abuela, it’s me…Gisela,
                           your nieta.
                           Ay, I saw a bright light taking
                           me home, back to the Old
                                      TIA MARGARITA
                           Esta mas lela que nunca.
             Abuela glares at Tia Margarita.
                           Who is fat, ugly vieja? She new
                                      TIA MARGARITA
                                (as if speaking to
                                 village idiot)
                           It’s me, Margarita…your
                           yerno’s sister, comprendes?
             Abuela’s eyes darken into a swirling mass of loathing.
                           Ay, Abuela, Mama has been
                           trying to call you–you know
                           how bad the phone lines are in
                           the Old Country. When she does
                           get through, she says you don’t
                           answer your phone.
                           Mija, my hearing not so good.
             Cristina strolls towards the domino table. She nudges Bald
                           What’s wrong with you? Dump the
             Bald Viejo turns, looks Cristina over…purposely knocks a
             domino on his lap.
                                      BALD VIEJO
                           Ay, mija, my arthritis…can
                           you get ficha for me?

                           Nice try, viejo verde…you’ll
                           need a lot more than a domino
                           to get my hand on your crotch.
             Viejo reaches into his pocket, pulls out a twenty-dollar
             bill; drops it on his lap, licks his wrinkled lips with
             Cristina scans the room. Only domino-playing viejos are
             watching. She sucks in her cheeks with indignation then…
             Snatches the twenty with lightening speed, stuffs the bill
             down her blouse.
             Viejo yelps with delight; the other viejos applaud.
             BACK TO GISELA & ABUELA:
                           Abuela, I’m so happy. Paco, the
                           man of my dreams, the love of
             Abuela moans…
                           Eh, jou better go, mija…I
                           berry tired.
                           Oh, okay. Do you want me to
                           take you back to your room?
                           No, no…go. Take ugly, fat
                           vieja with jou. She hurt my
             The viejos wait until the door slams shut.
                           Al fin! It thought they never
                           leave. Put Brando back on.
                                      BALD VIEJO
                           Little chica…berry hot.
             Domino viejos mumble their agreement.

 To be continued…     

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