THE SALSA CLASS

Everyone is radiant and having a lot of fun, except MARIE, who is very ill at ease. Abruptly she stops dancing and abandons her partner.

MARIE 2

I think I’d better take a break. It’s nothing to do with you; I’m sure you’re very good at this; being so close makes me ill at ease. I know it’s how you’re supposed to dance, and I’m not saying you’re taking advantage: you certainly haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just too tense, that’s all. I know, I can feel it, and you just watch; he’s about to tell me to relax my shoulders again. I’m really not made for this, for dancing. I haven’t got the spontaneity, the willingness to let go. I’m forever clenched. It’s the same thing with sex. It’s always a problem. Look, thanks for being nice enough to pretend not to notice, like everything’s normal, but I’m sure dancing with someone else would bring out the joy in living for you. Am I right?

HER PARTNER

Lo siento, no hablo bien ingles…

MARIE 1

One day, I had the dizzying insight that maybe this cult of me that my parents had going wasn’t well-founded. I still hadn’t figured out what made me so very different from others, except for that very thing—the wealth of love I received in return for nothing, except to be contented with myself as I was, a love which always fulfilled and smothered me like a heavy overcoat.

Everyone laughs and applauds as the music stops.

TEACHER

It’s coming along! It’s coming! Marie, relax your shoulders.

MARIE 2

Papa? Mama?

CHARLES

Yes, sweetheart?

MONIQUE

What’s the matter, darling?

MARIE 2

Why do you love me so much?

CHARLES

What?

MONIQUE

What’re you saying?

MARIE 2

Why do you love me… so… enthusiastically?

CHARLES

Gosh, dear, I mean… we love you for who you are.

MONIQUE

And we’re always going to love you for who you are.

MARIE 2

What does that mean?

CHARLES

Well, who you are is… our darling daughter.

MONIQUE

Such an extraordinary daughter, Marie.

MARIE 1

Huh? So, what is that?

MARIE 2

Yeah, yeah, I know… you’re my parents, but apart from that?

CHARLES

I don’t think I really understand your question, Marie.

MONIQUE

Take your time, sweetie. We’re listening.

MARIE 2

Okay, you’re my parents and all, but why is it you absolutely adore me like this?

CHARLES

Simple, sweetie… we love you. You’re our daughter, and we love you just the way you are, so don’t worry about a thing.

MARIE 2

Just the way I am.

MONIQUE

The way you are.

MARIE 2

Exactly the way I am.

CHARLES

Of course.

MARIE 1

That’s it?

CHARLES

What do you mean “that’s it?” That’s plenty, isn’t it?

MARIE 2

I was expecting a little more.

MONIQUE

You’re expecting us to love you even more?

MARIE 2

No, no…

CHARLES

Well, what do you mean?

MONIQUE

…Because, you know, we couldn’t possibly love you any more than we already do.

MARIE 2

I just thought there might be some reason that’s more… aesthetic.

CHARLES

Aesthetic?

MONIQUE

You’re a beautiful girl, Marie.

MARIE 2

What I’m trying to say is, what I was thinking is… I thought there might be something else to me.

CHARLES

What sort of something?

MARIE 2

I dunno… something I can’t put my finger on right now, but which might show up later on: some sort of promise or hope or…

MONIQUE

Hope for what?

MARIE 1

Gee, don’t you think just striving to be oneself is a bit, well, limited?

CHARLES

Well, now, I don’t know. That all depends, I guess…

KARINE

(to the eye) …So I get to the principal’s office and ask her what this is about. What I’m expecting is something serious. They don’t usually call the parents in otherwise. Something like he’s been fighting—right, that’s it, a fight, or else he’s back-talked his teacher, or he’s brought a porn magazine to class. Something serious, you know. So I sit down and take a breath, and she says to me, she says to me: “Ma’am, I think your son has a spiritual void.” I’m not sure I understand what she means, so I ask her, and she says it’s because of the banner. “Oh, right, the banner,” I say not having a clue, “The banner?”

She tells me there’s this giant banner they’re going to hang over the school entrance, and they want every child to write three things they dream of. Then she takes out this sheet of paper and reads my son’s dreams: 1. To have a pool. 2. To have a horse. Okay so far, right? Then 3. To die so I can see what happens afterward. “Is that it?” I say, “So what if my son want to die so he can see what happens after that?” “It shows a spiritual void,” she says, “As it happens, he often complains of stomach aches. I thought you should know.” Boy, was I mad! I got up and slammed the door on my way out. Still… I’d like to know if that’s supposed to be serious, having a spiritual void, I mean.