Scene Six

Two days later. Morning. MANUELITA and JOSELITO  watch My Favorite Martian on TV. They sit very close to the TV, mouths agape.

The RECEPTIONIST nods off at his desk.

On TV, BARBARA, a hip Los Angeles secretary, enters her apartment to find MARTY, a green man with antennae, sitting cross-legged on her loveseat.

BARBARA:

AAAAHHHH!

BARBARA faints.

MARTY:

Greetings, Earthling. I am Marty from Mars. I have travelled in my spaceship to come and study you specimens—

FAT JORGE enters. He is drenched.

FAT JORGE:

I just went into every restaurant up and down this street and said, “Me job”—

MANUELITA:

Shhh.

MARTY:

Very interesting. So you Earthlings arrive at your dwelling and immediately fall into a trance, much like we used to do ten thousand years ago—

FAT JORGE:

What the hell’s up with the Martian?

JOSELITO:

He came into the lady’s house and she fainted when she saw him.

FAT JORGE:

I can’t believe these gringo shows. Anything to keep the people numb.

MANUELITA:

Huh?

FAT JORGE:

The comrades in jail explained it to me—

He turns off the TV.

JOSELITO AND MANUELITA:

No! Papá! Papi!

FAT JORGE:

They make these stupid shows to keep their people numb. Where are the women?

MANUELITA:

Crying in their rooms.

FAT JORGE:

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Again? Damn it’s warm in here. One minute you’re freezing in this country, the next you’re boiling.

JOSELITO:

Mom went to buy some food. She told us to watch as much TV as possible so we could learn English.

FAT JORGE:

Yeah, right. By osmosis?

MANUELITA:

No. Just by listening. Real close.

FAT JORGE:

Look here, kids, these shows are designed to keep people from thinking about their world. Well, let me tell you, I could give a shit about outer space. Until the problems in this world are solved, I will give a shit about outer space.

JOSELITO:

But the Martian comes to Earth.

FAT JORGE:

Oh, yeah, and what a coincidence; the Martian comes to Earth and he lands right in the United States. Why doesn’t he land in Chihuido del Medio? Why? Because Chihuido del Medio is in the so-called Third World and, according to these gringos, the Martian would only land in the centre of the world, which, according to them, is, let me guess, New York?

JOSELITO:

Maybe the Martian will land here next time.

FAT JORGE:

Maybe.

JOSELITO:

I’d like to talk to a Martian.

FAT JORGE:

So would I. ’Cause if I saw a Martian, I would ask him what it would be like to live in an anarchist society. ’Cause you gotta understand, kids, that if a creature from another planet were to land here on Earth, it would automatically mean that he is superior. Not just technologically, but in every way. Remember what I was telling you kids about the society we live in? Remember what it’s called?

MANUELITA:

Capitalism.

FAT JORGE:

That’s right, Manuelita. Capitalism. We live in a capitalist, imperialist society. We have a long way to go before the whole world is socialist. Centuries, really. And that dialectical process will take a lot of fighting from the masses. And once the whole world reaches socialism—which is, what, Joselito?

JOSELITO:

A classless society.

FAT JORGE:

That’s right. And then, once the whole world is socialist, we will move towards communism and then towards anarchism. We’ve already gone through feudalism and now we’re in the final phases of capitalism. The whole thing will come down and we will have to rebuild a socialist society—

MANUELITA:

What’s anar-kism?

JOSELITO:

(whispering) Shut up.

FAT JORGE:

Anarchism is something you and I cannot even imagine, Manuelita. It’s a state in which not only are everybody’s basic needs met, but also, because everyone’s nutritional needs are met, and everybody’s in perfect health, and everybody has a good place to live, the human brain will naturally develop to its full capacity—’cause I already told you guys that we only use about two percent of our brain right now—and the human race will be able to live in peace and harmony. But that will only come through centuries of struggle, of liberating ourselves from oppression—

JOSELITO:

DAD! What does this have to do with the Martian?!

FAT JORGE:

Oh, right. The Martian. I would like to talk to the Martian too. Because the Martian is light years ahead of us, which automatically leads me to believe he lives in an anarchist society, and I would like to ask him about it. You know, converse. Converse with a man of the future. You children are very lucky that you have me to explain all of this to you. That your conscience can be born at such a tender age. That your conscience doesn’t have to be born in jail.

FAT JORGE turns towards the Coke machine.

MANUELITA:

What’s consc—(JOSELITO  covers her mouth with his hands. FAT JORGE doesn’t hear her.)

ISABEL and CRISTINA descend the stairs.

FAT JORGE:

(to the women) Comrades. Man, I’m thirsty. (arriving at the Coke machine) How does this Coke machine work?

MANUELITA:

(muffled, through JOSELITO ’s hand) I dunno.

FAT JORGE presses all the buttons on the machine. Finally, the Coke machine talks in a robot-like voice.

COKE MACHINE:

Feed me a coin, and I will give you a Coke.

FAT JORGE:

How ’bout that? The thing talks. It’s asking me what I want. You gotta admit these gringos have a sense of humour. (to COKE MACHINE) Coca-Cola! Coca-Cola! I want a Co-ca-Co-la! (FAT JORGE waits. Nothing happens. He slaps the machine.) Stupid thing doesn’t even work.

FLACA enters with grocery bags. She is drenched.

FAT JORGE:

(to CRISTINA and CALLADITA) Comrades! You’re going to take the kids on a stroll of Stanley’s Park, aren’t you?

CRISTINA:

We are—?

JOSELITO and MANUELITA:

Yayyyy!

FAT JORGE:

(shooing them out of the hotel) Have a good one. Oh! And take your time!