in the time of the butterflies - nmsu theatre arts of butterflies script..pdf · in the time of the...
TRANSCRIPT
In the Time of the Butterflies
A play by Caridad Svich
based on the novel by Julia Alvarez
This play was originally commissioned by Repertorio Espanol, New York City.Artistic
Director, Rene Buch.
The author’s Spanish-language version of this text premiered at Repertorio Espanol in
New York City in February 2011 under Jose Zayas’ direction. Author’s bilingual version
of the play was commissioned and produced by Mixed Blood Theatre in Minneapolis in
April 2013. A workshop production of the English-language version was produced by
Teatro Paraguas in Santa Fe, New Mexico in spring 2013.
The English-language premiere of the play was produced at San Diego Repertory
Theatre in January 2014.
This is the first stage adaptation of this novel in its history.
Draft January 12, 2014
2
‘The Memory of Butterflies’
Julia Alvarez in her novel In the Time of the Butterflies (1994) weaves an intimate,
complex, time-shifting tale of four sisters and their political awakening as activists under
the Trujillo regime in the Dominican Republic. Based on the true story of the Mirabal
Sisters, Alvarez’s novel considers with respect, affection and tenderness the quotidian
lives of Minerva, Patria, Maria Teresa and Dede from the time they are girls to when
they are women. Haunted by the knowledge that Minerva, Patria and Maria Teresa
were murdered in 1960 by Trujillo government-backed assassins, the novel is a memory
piece narrated by the surviving sister Dede as she recounts her family’s story to a
young American woman. Although the story that Alvarez relates from history is weighted
by the untimely, unjust end of these women’s lives, the novel is remarkably immediate
and possessed of a luminous, graceful radiance and lightness of tone. Told in the
imagined voices of the sisters through alternating chapters, the novel is comprised of
diary entries, drawings, letters and sections of narrative that travel back and forward
across historical time. Alvarez, in conjuring the voices of the sisters and their family,
conveys with warmth the common everyday disagreements and entanglements among
siblings while charting the defiant, heroic acts of resistance that play a significant part in
their lives. In the post-script to the novel, Alvarez explains how the writing of the novel
was for her an act of questioning, and how through the process of writing, “the
characters took over, beyond polemics and facts,” and how “she began to invent them.”
Writing a play is also an act of invention. Rather than replicate Alvarez’s prose and
dialogue, I too have sought as a writer to find my own site for the imaginary to be
released, and for these characters, these sisters, to find new life. Given that the story is
based on fact, there is unquestionably for me as a writer a profound debt to the lives of
these real women and the legacy they left behind. There is also the complicated and
necessary imaginative leap that needs to be taken to negotiate the facts in and of
themselves with Alvarez’s respectful and enchanting inventions. The intimate, reflective
spaces that Alvarez creates in her novel are impossible to mimic when translating this
story to the stage. For one, the novel exists in and of itself as a work of artistry, and
therefore, mimicry alone would not do justice to these women’s lives or to Alvarez’s
work as writer. If one is to make a play for the theatre, then it too needs to exist on its
own and find its distinct voice and sensibility.
Theatre is intimate and public, but unlike a novel is always in time. The spaces that
prose allows are significantly different than what the theatre demands. Thus, my task as
a playwright working with Alvarez’s novel has been to re-re-invent for myself the
beautiful, willful and sad story of these vibrant and complicated women, and position
their story within a heightened theatrical frame. The creation of the frame for me has in
part been historical. The fact that the surviving sister carries the memories inside of her
3
and the task too of recording the family history for generations, a fact that also frames
Alvarez’ novel, has been a liberating one for me as a dramatist. The present
interrogates the past in this play but also sometimes creates its own resonant space for
memories to reverberate. In doing so, music becomes a central sonic template, for, of
course, music plays a key role in accessing memory, in placing moments in historical
and emotional time, and in tapping into emotion.
In this play, the present of the Dominican Republic and the new sounds and rhythms
which inform and invigorate its musical landscape comment upon the older rhythms of
the island under Trujillo’s regime. The DJ chorus in my play is of course an invention, a
narrative and theatrical device, to set up the different temporal modes and languages
possible for the play. Reggaeton and hip-hop and creolized musical forms comment and
clash with boleros and merengues from the 1940s and 1950s in the present-day choral
sections of the piece. The spirit of the Dominican Republic becomes embodied in the
fluid, liquid voice of the chorus that beckons the audience to remember the past and the
vitality of citizens refusing to bow down to oppression against all odds. Choral passages
alternate with intimate memory scenes between the sisters and scenes between Dede
and the American Woman, who too is finding her own voice as an artist and bicultural
individual throughout the play. The result is a memory piece inside a memory piece, a
story inside many layers of stories, a play governed by the motion of butterflies that
flutter and land, and rise and fall, leaving their incandescent beauty behind.
I offer In the Time of the Butterflies to the Mirabal Sisters and the people of the
Dominican Republic, to Julia Alvarez and the inspiration her delicate, passionate prose
has given me to create my own work, and to the audience, the public that makes theatre
community, and reminds practitioners that what we do in this politics of art is a always
call for action: a call to move society forward.
This play is for the Mirabal sisters and their families.
Caridad Svich
4
Figures: *ADELE “DEDE” (OLDER), guardian of memory, in the suspended present
[actor in 50s-60s]
DEDE (YOUNGER), in the past, from the ages of 23 to 35 [actor in 20s-early 30s]. also
plays AMERICAN WOMAN, a fiction writer of Dominican descent, from New York [actor
in 20s]
MINERVA, her sister, la Mariposa, from the ages of 12 to 34 [actor in 20s-early 30s]
PATRIA, her older sister, from the ages of 22-36 [actor in 30s]
*MARIA TERESA “MATE,” her youngest sister, from the ages of 10-25 [actor in 20s]
DJ, fluid DJ of the airwaves in present and past time; also plays GENERALISMO “EL
JEFE/EL CHIVO/THE GOAT” TRUJILLO, dictator of the Dominican Republic from
1930-1961; VIRGILIO MORALES, revolutionary, friend of Minerva and Dede; ENRIQUE
MIRABAL, father of the Mirabal sisters, and RUFINO DE LA CRUZ, the Mirabal’s driver
the day they died. [actor in 30s-40s]
Time: 1938-the suspended present.
The setting: A garden of memory in the Dominican Republic.
Notes: The play may be performed without an interval.
Original lyrics to the songs “Muevete” and “The Flowers of Santo Domingo” should be
set by a composer.
*Dede is pronounced Deh-deh, accent on the second syllable.
*”Mate” is pronounced like the Argentine tea: mah-the, stress on first syllable.
Special thanks to Marco Antonio Rodriguez and Yolanny Rodriguez for guidance with the rhythms of Dominican Spanish, and to Jose Zayas for continued faith in the work.
5
Historical Note: Patria Mercedes Mirabal (born 1924), Maria Argentina Minerva Mirabal
(born 1926) and Antonia Maria Teresa “Mate” Mirabal (born 1935) were political
dissidents who opposed the dictatorship of Rafael Trujillo. They were part of the
Movement of the Fourteenth of June. Their code name was “The Butterflies” (Las
Mariposas). Minerva and María Teresa Mirabal were imprisoned and tortured. While in
prison they were constantly raped. Three of the sisters' husbands were incarcerated at
La Victoria Penitentiary in Santo Domingo.
On November 25, 1960, Trujillo sent men to intercept the three women after they visited
their husbands in prison. The unarmed sisters were led into a sugarcane field and
executed along with their driver, Rufino de la Cruz. Dedé Mirabal, who was not on the
trip with her sisters that day in November, was not assassinated and has lived to tell the
stories of her family, and preserves her sisters; memory through the Museo Hermanas
Mirabal.
On December 17, 1999, the United Nations General Assembly designated November
25 (the anniversary of the day of the murder of the Mirabal sisters) as the annual date
for the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women in
commemoration of the sisters. This day also marks the beginning of the 16 days of
Activism against Gender Violence. The end of the 16 Days is December 10,
International Human Rights Day.
6
Part One
Prologue: Invocation
The present and the past are fluid. On the radio, the DJ spins a tale.
DJ: Muevete, mi gente. Muevanse!
This is the voice of la radio dominicana
Bringing you lo mejor de lo mejor de la bachata, merengue, reggaeton, and hip-hop.
Pa’ que lo sepa!
Here we have the voices that ignite the flame,
Shake the snake-ity snake
And raise spirits from their graves.
Listen up, mi gente
Listen to this night
Made history
By those wondrous sisters -
Las Mariposas
Whose wings were left, broken, by the side of a road
So that we could all now
Sing.
Hear our voices ring.
Muevete, mi gente! Muevanse!
7
Scene 1.
Day. Out of time. DEDE (Younger), PATRIA, MINERVA and MARIA TERESA are in the
garden. A butterfly flutters. Minerva catches it.
MINERVA: One.
PATRIA: No.
MINERVA: In my hand.
YOUNG DEDE: Let me see.
MARIA TERESA: It’s trembling.
MINERVA: Quick. The jar.
PATRIA: Minerva.
MINERVA: What?
PATRIA: Let it go.
MINERVA: I want it for my collection.
MARIA TERESA: What are you going to do with it?
MINERVA: Nothing. Just look.
YOUNG DEDE: You’re gonna be like one of those old ladies that collect everything.
PATRIA: Ay, Dede. The things you say…
MARIA TERESA: Well, if I were going to collect anything, it’d be shoes. For me: red
shoes!
PATRIA: Ay, Maria Teresa!
MARIA TERESA: I simply adore shoes. What’s wrong with that? I’d like to have millions
of them.
PATRIA: I don’t understand you.
MARIA TERESA: That’s because you’re so serious, Patria.
PATRIA: Someone has to be.
MINERVA: (refers to butterfly) It’s fluttering.
8
YOUNG DEDE: It’s dancing.
MINERVA: Yes?
YOUNG DEDE: See?
MARIA TERESA: We should have music.
MINERVA: Want to dance, Maria Teresa?
MARIA TERESA: Uuuy si! I’d like to dance to all of the songs from all of the centuries.
PATRIA: Ay, I don’t know who you take after, child.
MARIA TERESA: No one. I’m unique. When I die, I’ll be the last of my species.
PATRIA: Ni~na, don’t say such things!
MINERVA: Patria. Calm down.
PATRIA: I’m perfectly calm. She’s the one who…
YOUNG DEDE: Apologize to your older sister. Go on.
MARIA TERESA: But I didn’t say anything!
YOUNG DEDE: Go on.
MARIA TERESA: …I’m sorry if I said anything to make you upset.
PATRIA: … You have to understand: words don’t just stay in the air when you say them;
they have an effect.
MARIA TERESA: Where?
PATRIA: Here and everywhere.
Pause.
MINERVA: Give me your hand.
MARIA TERESA: What?
MINERVA: Let’s dance.
MARIA TERESA: But there isn’t any music.
MINERVA: We don’t need music to dance.
9
MARIA TERESA: Well, if we’re going to dance, I want to dance a merengue.
PATRIA: Maria Teresa!
MARIA TERESA: Why not?
PATRIA: Mama doesn’t like that music. She says that’s the kind of music women
who…you know…listen to.
MARIA TERESA: Well, President Trujillo says it’s everybody’s music, that it belongs to
all of us.
YOUNG DEDE: What does he know?
PATRIA: Dede, he’s the president of the country. He’s a good man. Everyone says so.
YOUNG DEDE: Well, I don’t like the way he looks. When I see his picture in the paper,
it sends a shiver down my spine.
MINERVA: Why?
YOUNG DEDE: I don’t know.
MINERVA: Strange.
YOUNG DEDE: Maybe it’s nothing. You know how it is. Sometimes a person has
reactions that don’t mean anything.
PATRIA: Everything means something.
YOUNG DEDE: Ay, Patria, it’s nothing. Just things I feel sometimes…
PATRIA: (lightly) … As if you had a vision?
YOUNG DEDE: Ay, please, let’s not have an inquisition about this! I don’t even know
the man. President Trujillo is there in his mansion, and we’re here in our little garden.
That’s all.
MARIA TERESA: Maybe he’ll buy me some expensive shoes one of these days. And a
beautiful dress.
YOUNG DEDE: Who?
MARIA TERESA: President Trujillo.
PATRIA: Maria Teresa, what’s going on inside your head? Papa can buy you those
things.
10
MARIA TERESA: I know, but…
PATRIA: Always with your head in the clouds.
MINERVA: Come on. Are we going to dance or not?
MARIA TERESA: … Okay. But if we’re gonna dance, I want Dede and Patria to dance,
too.
PATRIA: Ay, Mate!
MINERVA: Come on. Levantate, mujer!
PATRIA: You’re going to make me crazy.
MARIA TERESA: Vamos. Vamos a bailar.
ALL: (completing the sentence, a shared ritual) As if the world will never come to an
end.
Music is heard: an exuberant Dominican merengue from the 1940s. The sisters dance.
As they dance the stage becomes filled with the projection of butterflies that move
through the air, as if they too were dancing with the four sisters.
The sisters spin out from the stage, until only Dede (younger) remains.
Dede (older) walks in, and for an instant, across time, observes Dede (younger).
A moment.
PATRIA, MINERVA, MARIA TERESA (from off, shout) Dede!
YOUNG DEDE: Wait for me!
Dede (Younger) runs out.
11
Scene 2.
Time shifts to the suspended present. DEDE (Older) is in the garden
OLD DEDE: Sometimes I can’t remember what’s real and what isn’t. Did we always play
like that, or is it only what I imagine…?
A flash of memory. A song is heard, as in the distance. This could be sung live or as
pre-recorded VO. The song should have the feeling of being improvised – perhaps even
have a slightly anthemic, celebratory quality. We are seeing this from DEDE’s point of
view.
“Las Flores de Santo Domingo/the flowers of Santo Domingo”
MINERVA & MARIA TERESA & PATRIA: IN THE SANCTUARY OF OUR DREAMS
WE RISE AND RISE AND RISE
THE FLOWERS OF SANTO DOMINGO
The image of the sisters fades.
AMERICAN WOMAN comes into view.
AMERICAN WOMAN: Doña Dede?
OLD DEDE: Ay, estoy aqui como una vieja. Singing to myself! Please, please, come in.
AMERICAN WOMAN: Such a beautiful garden.
OLD DEDE: The flowers of Santo Domingo have a way of blooming no matter what
happens. Would you like un cafecito?
AMERICAN WOMAN: No. I’m fine. Thanks. It’s good of you to make time to see me.
OLD DEDE: Oh, I just love people who write! Everything that has to do with writing
stories and doing humanity a bit of good fascinates me.
AMERICAN WOMAN: Yes, well, but that’s not the same as…
OLD DEDE: Telling our story?
AMERICAN WOMAN: …If I’m going to tell it.
OLD DEDE: Look, you’re here. Right? You’ve come all this way. From the United
States.
12
AMERICAN WOMAN: Well...
OLD DEDE: And you know, anything I can do…
AMERICAN WOMAN: Thank you, Doña Dede. It’s just that, being here, in this garden,
seeing your sisters’ museum… I never thought… forgive me for…
OLD DEDE: Ay, por favor, sometimes emotions are all we have. Some days we’re just
pure emotion. We walk around con todo a flor de piel
AMERICAN WOMAN: Especially here?
OLD DEDE: Absolutely. The Dominican Republic is like an island of constant emotions.
Emotions and contradictions.
AMERICAN WOMAN: How am I going to write everything…
OLD DEDE: A little bit at a time, right? After all, to be able to tell a story is a privilege.
How many people would love to be able to put down on paper everything that happened
… Look at me. Every year, people come. Every November, I speak about what
happened to my sisters on that awful day in 1960.
AMERICAN WOMAN: It must be-
OLD DEDE: No. Never. It’s important for me to keep their memory alive: Patria,
Minerva, Maria Teresa…they’re still here in the blood of this country. Years go by. Not
everybody remembers what it was like when President Trujillo was in power. There’s an
entire generation that… You’re Dominican, you say?
AMERICAN WOMAN: Well, yes, but…
OLD DEDE: From the United States.
AMERICAN WOMAN: I remember when my parents first sent me here when I was a
little girl. They wanted me to get to know my cousins and the rest of the family. I
thought: Everything is so slow here. Much slower than in the States. Waiting in line at
the airport, driving from the airport to the city… I kept saying “When are we going to get
there?” My cousins would laugh. “Chill out, cuz, we’ll get there soon enough.
Tranquila.” And they’d turn up the bachata (on the radio) and keep drinking their red
cola, and I’d think “What am I doing here?” But then, after a week, I didn’t want to leave.
Every time I come back I have the same feeling I had when I was a child.
OLD DEDE: What a slow country?
13
AMERICAN WOMAN: Takes a while to get used to. Just driving around….roads without
signs…
OLD DEDE: You know, Minerva thought about going to the United States once.
AMERICAN WOMAN: Really?
OLD DEDE: She had a crazy dream. Or maybe I was the one who had the crazy dream.
Like I said, so much of what happened back then gets mixed up with what we wanted,
what our friends said, what we wrote in our diaries…
14
Scene 3: Minerva’s diary
Day. 1938. 12-year-old MINERVA walks through the garden, diary in hand. She stops
and writes. She wears a Catholic schoolgirl uniform.
Projection of the handwritten date “1938” is seen while she says:
MINERVA: 1938. Dear Diary,
I’m here in Catholic school, where Mama y Papa have sent me.
The butterflies dance in the air like the ones back home in our garden.
But here they don’t have as much space to fly.
Their wings get caught between the little bars of the windows.
They collide against the church bells in the chapel,
And hide at the far end of the garden, where the wildflowers grow.
Projection: butterfly wings struggling to fly through bars of windows.
I feel them all around me. I want to dance with them.
But the nuns won’t let me.
Projection: image of a nun in the distance. As if this were a photograph blurred by memory.
They say I have to be “obedient, conscientious…” Those words make me crazy.
Not because I’m not. I’m proud of being a good student and an honorable citizen,
But, epa, it’s such a beautiful day, why shouldn’t I drink in in the sun and the butterflies?
Slight time shift. Projection: portrait of her friend Sinita Perozo, age 12, faded by time.
I just met a very serious girl. Her name is Sinita Perozo.
The other girls laugh at her because she doesn’t have any money.
I hate that they treat her like that… it’s not fair.
One day they’ll see…when I’m a lawyer…I’ll do everything in my power so that no one’s treated like that.
Know what Sinita says?
That when President Trujillo was in the army,
15
Projection: documentary photograph of young Trujillo.
He did everything he could so that everyone that got in his way would disappear.
Assassinated under the cold light of the moon.
Projection: image of the moon, as if drawn by hand by a child on construction paper.
Like something out of a novel, right?
At first I didn’t want to believe Sinita.
Not because I doubted her, but because here Trujillo’s like a god.
Sinita says: Tu va’ ver,1 Minerva. You’ll see.
And it’s true, because, little by little, I do…
Projection: in Minerva’s mind, slowly the garden grows,
at first, resplendently, joyously, and then, a shudder,
as the trees turn into giants, flowers tremble,
and the butterflies smash their wings against the little bars of the school’s windows.
The butterflies’ wings – blue, green, orange – fall to the earth like drops of rain.
It is an eerie vision Minerva has of the future.
1 Translation: Tu vas a ver is the complete sentence. Colloquially, the phrasing is “tu va’ ver” in Dominican Spanish.
The sentence means “you will see.”
16
Scene 4.
Time shifts to the present. American Woman is seated. Dede (Older) walks in with a
plate of dulce de coco and sets it on a small table.
OLD DEDE: Minerva could see it all. When she put her mind to something, there wasn’t
anyone that could stop her. First with that girl Sinita, and then…all the rest. She was
right. Trujillo was a sonofabitch. I can say it now… now that I’m a viejita, I can say
whatever I want. I used to tell Minerva: “Write whatever you want in your diary, but what
happens if one of these days somebody discovers what you’re up to. You’re playing
with fire, mujer.”
The other day a little boy stopped by to ask me about my sisters. He wanted to know
what it was like back then in the 1940s. He made it sound like ancient times. Like the
1800s or something. When there were horse drawn carriages, and people on mules,
and the like. I suppose that for him it is. After all, the whole world now is at the mere
touch of a key on the computer. I think: What do my sisters mean to him? Patriotic
figures. Brave women on a commemorative stamp. People in old dresses in a history
book.
AMERICAN WOMAN: I don’t think he-
OLD DEDE: You know what he said to me. “Why didn’t they kill you too that day in
November?”
AMERICAN WOMAN: He didn’t-
OLD DEDE: It was merely a question…. Well…a rather mature one for a little boy to
ask, but…he asked it with complete innocence. I looked at him for a moment and after a
while I said “Look, mi’jo, I’m alive, because someone had to tell our story.”
A moment.
OLD DEDE: Want a dulce de coco?
AMERICAN WOMAN: I’m on a diet.
OLD DEDE: American women are always on a diet. They’re constantly starving
themselves and for what? When are you going to enjoy life?
AMERICAN WOMAN: I don’t know.
OLD DEDE: You come all this way, spend all this time, and you won’t even have a little-
AMERICAN WOMAN: Ta bien, ta bien…maybe just one…
17
American Woman eats the coconut candy. Dede looks at her. A moment.
OLD DEDE: Must be such a beautiful thing.
AMERICAN WOMAN: What?
OLD DEDE: Being a writer.
AMERICAN WOMAN: I just write little things, short stories...
OLD DEDE: Why are you here, then?
AMERICAN WOMAN: Sorry?
OLD DEDE: Listen: I tell our story. Every day. Ever since the day of the accident.
AMERICAN WOMAN: But it wasn’t-.
OLD DEDE: I know. But that’s the word they used. “The Mirabal sisters suffered an
accident.” That was the story the desgraciados in power wanted to tell. But soon, the
real story came out. And it had to be told. So that people would know exactly what
happened. You also write so that people will remember what happened, so that people
will learn the truth and find a way to change the world. If not, why write at all? Eat your
dulce de coco, mujer. Take in the sun. We’ll sit out here together and look at the
butterflies, as they dance among the trees.
Dominican music is heard softly (a song from the 1940s). In the distance, in the garden,
10-year-old Maria Teresa is seen dancing.
AMERICAN WOMAN: It’s so beautiful here.
OLD DEDE: Beautiful, but crazy. That’s what Minerva used to say: Everything here is a
kind of madness disguised as serenity. … You like the dulce?
AMERICAN WOMAN: It’s amazing. Doesn’t taste at all like the kind they sell in the
States.
OLD DEDE: It’s a secret recipe. Maria Teresa’s recipe.
18
Scene 5. Maria Teresa’s diary
Day. 1945. Maria Teresa, age 10, writes and draws in her diary.
Projection: handwritten date “1945” as she speaks:
MARIA TERESA: 1945. Dear Diary,
A cup of coconut
Projection of a drawing of a cup
A sprinkle of walnuts
A large tablespoon of dulce de leche
Projection of a drawing of a large spoon
A sliver of rum.
This is the recipe my Aunt Flor gave me. Don’t show it to anybody. It’s our secret.
I mean it. If Minerva sees it, she’ll copy me. She loves to copy me.
Like that dress, remember? The one I saw in the window.
Projection of a drawing of a party dress
I saw it first, but Minerva bought it to go out with Virgilio Morales.
I think she’s in love with him.
I saw them the other day.
They were talking about I-don’t-know-what on the other side of the garden.
They used big words, super smart ones…
Minerva says that Lio Morales helps her with her homework
But they almost kissed.
I don’t know what kind of homework that is.
Projection of a drawing of a young woman wearing trousers and a beret
This is Hilda. She’s one of Minerva’s friends.
She’s weird. She always wears pants and a beret.
Hilda has secret meetings in her house. She’s plotting against President Trujillo.
19
I’m scared.
Minerva says it’s important to write things in a diary
So that our secrets will always be safe
And guarded in a sacred place.
19 year old Minerva enters, from within. Maria Teresa hides the diary.
MINERVA: Getting some sun?
MARIA TERESA: A little. It’s so nice out.
MINERVA: Good light for writing.
MARIA TERESA: I have nothing to write.
MINERVA: Swear?
MARIA TERESA: Ay, don’t be a pest.
MINERVA: Just asking, that’s all.
Minera hums a bolero to herself, in thought.
MARIA TERESA: What are you singing?
MINERVA: A song that came into my head.
MARIA TERESA: Who for?
MINERVA: Are you going to start with that?
MARIA TERESA: Just asking, that’s all.
MINERVA: Just because I was singing doesn’t mean anything. Besides, you’re too
young for those kinds of questions.
MARIA TERESA: I already did my First Communion. I’m a grown up.
MINERVA: When you’re fifteen, we can talk.
MARIA TERESA: I know more than you think.
MINERVA: About what?
MARIA TERESA: Secret meetings.
20
MINERVA: Are you spying on me?
MARIA TERESA: I’m not the one going round here and there with Hilda….
MINERVA: What’s Hilda to you?
MARIA TERESA: She’s going to get you into trouble.
MINERVA: Mate, are you writing little things about Hilda in your diary?
MARIA TERESA: It’s not my fault that Hilda’s stupid uncle refuses to hang a picture of
Trujillo on the wall.
MINERVA: He has his reasons. His decision should be respected.
MARIA TERESA: We have a picture of Trujillo on the wall. You spend all that time with
Hilda in those stupid meetings, and the guards come round my school and-
MINERVA: Did you tell them anything?
MARIA TERESA: Why would I anyone ask me anything-?
MINERVA: Well, someone said something.
MARIA TERESA: Huh?
MINERVA: They took her.
MARIA TERESA: Who?
MINERVA: Hilda. The police took her away.
MARIA TERESA: Why?
MINERVA: I’m scared. I’m so scared, Mate.
MARIA TERESA: You didn’t do anything.
MINERVA: I wish I could. I wish we all could do something against…
MARIA TERESA: … what do you mean?
MINERVA: Trujillo.
MARIA TERESA: Is he doing something bad?
MINERVA: Shh.
21
MARIA TERESA: Is he?
MINERVA: To this country, Mate? Yes. Yes. I think so. He’s had Hilda taken away,
hasn’t he? And if the guards come ‘round here, if the guards read anything in that diary
of yours…
MARIA TERESA: I haven’t written anything.
MINERVA: If there’s something about Hilda in that…. the police will take me away.
Understand? They’ll take ALL of us away.
MARIA TERESA: Liar.
MINERVA: You think you can play with Trujillo’s guards? Listen, they’ll take me, Dede,
Patria, Mama, Papa…
MARIA TERESA (in tears): Here. (retrieves hidden diary) …You told me I could write
whatever I wanted to in my diary.
MINERVA: About Hilda?
MARIA TERESA (crying): I don’t want them to take you away…I don’t want them to take
you away.
MINERVA: There, there. Don’t get upset.
MARIA TERESA (crying): I was just writing little things…little thoughts… I don’t want to
get rid of my diary. It’s my best friend.
MINERVA: What do you mean “your best friend?”
MARIA TERESA: I didn’t write anything bad. I swear.
MINERVA: I know. I know. … Look: we’ll put all my papers and your diary in a little box,
and we’ll bury it in a secret place, somewhere only you and I will know about. Okay?
MARIA TERESA: How do you know they’ll be safe?
MINERVA: I’ll make sure. Don’t worry.
The sisters walk away.
Projection: drawings from Maria Teresa’s diary leave their memory traces in the garden:
lines and shapes turn into dresses buried upside down in the earth in between veins of
blood.
22
Scene 6. Patria’s diary
1946. Patria is seen. She is 22 years old. Projection of a church or of a religious image.
Projection: handwritten date “1946” as she speaks:
PATRIA: 1946. Dear Diary,
I don’t know what to do with my faith.
I’ve always wanted to be a nun,
But ever since I met Pedrito Gonzalez
Everything’s changed.
Every time I see him,
with his hair combed back and his guayabera
so pressed and clean,.
I think about the future,
Our future.
Another page in the diary/Time shift.
Projection: a fistful of earth in a man’s hands, the dirt of the earth slips through his
fingers against the light of a moon turned upside down.
The other day, Pedrito and I were walking together on a moonless night
When all of sudden he knelt down,
Grabbed a fistful of soil in his hands
And told me that he loved me as much as he loved this country.
If faith is blind, then so is love.
I knew that night that Pedrito was my destiny.
Another page in the diary/time shift.
Projections: an infant dressed as an angel, a small coffin, a lit candle on an altar, the medal of the Blessed Virgin Mary, tears that fall onto the earth like small flames, ants
that crawl through the soil and fill a small coffin, while she speaks:
23
Our first son is born dead.
I don’t know how I’ll go on.
Pedrito is inconsolable.
Days go by. Words escape us.
Pedrito buries the infant in a little box in the ground.
His tears burn his fingers.
I look at my husband, and ask God to forgive me
Because I think He’s punished me for leaving Him;
He’s punished me for loving someone else instead.
I want to put a medal of the Virgen de Altagracia inside the little coffin.
The farmhands help me open it.
It’s crawling with ants.
Close it. Please.
Another page in the diary/time shift: a premonition of the future.
Hail Mary, full of grace, do you hear me?
Holy Mary, Mother of God, send me a sign.
24
Scene 7.
1948. Dominican instrumental music is heard in the background, while the DJ spins a
cynically soothing climate of fear and surveillance over the land.
DJ: It’s a quiet night in Santo Domin- Ciudad Trujillo,
As we spin a hit platter from 1948.
Patria walks in, as she listens to the radio. She has a little sewing basket in hand.
Here on La Voz Dominicana, the voice of the world,
Minerva walks in. She has writing paper and pen in hand.
We remind you of the classic style
That Our Great Benefactor, El Jefe, President Trujillo, proclaims to the skies.
If you want good meat, milk, salt, sugar, tobacco,
Dede walks in. She has her Dad’s accounting book and pencil in hand.
You’ll find it here in Ciudad Trujillo.
If you want fine perfumes, neckties, the latest cars, and glamorous stars,
You’ll find it here in Ciudad Trujillo.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is where Hollywood meets the Caribbean,
Maria Teresa walks in. She has a fashion magazine in hand, preferably Vanidades.
Here all of your forbidden desires will be granted
By the man we call El Jefe: God in heaven, Trujillo on earth.
This is La Voz Dominica, the voice of the world.
25
Scene 8.
As the sound of the radio fades into 1948. The four sisters in the garden. 24 year old
Patria is sewing, 13 year old Maria Teresa is reading Vanidades, a fashion and gossip
magazine, 23 year old Dede (younger) is tallying up accounts in accounting notebook,
and 22 year old Minerva is writing. The soft spell of summer envelopes them. There is a
tall pitcher of lemonade on a table.
MARIA TERESA: Hot.
PATRIA: You can say that again.
MARIA TERESA: More than usual.
PATRIA: It’s the humidity.
YOUNG DEDE: I keep adding the same numbers over and over again.
MINERVA: Want me to help you, Dede?
YOUNG DEDE: I’m fine.
MARIA TERESA (to Minerva): What are you writing this time? (will you) Let me read it?
PATRIA: Mate, leave your sister in peace.
MARIA TERESA: Just asking, that’s all.
YOUNG DEDE: I hope you two aren’t going to start fighting now.
PATRIA: We’re not fighting. But she can’t act like a baby all the time.
MARIA TERESA: I’m not a baby.
PATRIA (with a smile): Precisely.
A moment.
MINERVA: Maybe we should go for a swim.
YOUNG DEDE: With Virgilio Morales?
MINERVA: What does that mean?
YOUNG DEDE: Ever since he stopped by the house that day, you’ve been… something
else…
26
MINERVA: Well, you go out with Jaimito and I don’t say anything.
YOUNG DEDE: That’s different.
MARIA TERESA (sing-song): Dede likes Virgilio, Dede likes Virgilio.
YOUNG DEDE: Stop making things up!
MARIA TERESA: I see you when Lio Morales comes by. You get all giggly and wobbly.
PATRIA: Mate, what’s gotten into you today? Leave your sisters in-
MARIA TERESA: Just saying…
PATRIA: Just saying: is how a fish gets caught and dies.
They laugh.
MINERVA: Que es eso, mujer? Is that one of Dad’s sayings?
PATRIA & MARIA TERESA & DEDE & MINERVA: Por la boca muere el pez!
They laugh. A moment.
YOUNG DEDE: I don’t know what you see in him.
MINERVA: Who?
YOUNG DEDE: Lio Morales.
MINERVA: He’s nice.
MARIA TERESA: Isn’t he a communist?
MINERVA: He wants this country to move forward. There’s nothing wrong with that.
MARIA TERESA: But a communist-
MINERVA: When I met him, I didn’t ask him what his political ideas were.
MARIA TERESA: And now?
MINERVA: Listen, the only reason Lio Morales’ ideas are considered “suspect” is
because we have a government that limits our freedom of expression.
PATRIA: Not so loud.
27
MINERVA: If people go round with their head down, this country will never put itself
back together again.
YOUNG DEDE: When you’re a lawyer-
MINERVA: Yes. When I’m a lawyer, I’ll fight to change things. Just like Lio and many
others do.
MARIA TERESA: But if he’s a communist, doesn’t that make him an enemy of the
state?
MINERVA: If Lio’s an enemy of the state, I’m an enemy of the state.
PATRIA: You have to be careful. Pray to all the saints in heaven that things don’t get
worse.
MINERVA: Oh no, they’ll get worse.
PATRIA: We have to pray that-
MINERVA: Trujillo doesn’t ruin this country completely. Because at this rate…
PATRIA: All we can do is put ourselves in God’s hands.
MINERVA: Prayers alone won’t solve things, Patria. We have to take action.
MARIA TERESA: What can we do?
MINERVA: What?
MARIA TERESA: Mama says women need to take care of the house.
YOUNG DEDE: It’s nice to take care of the house.
PATRIA: Take care of Jaimito… You’re in love, aren’t you?
YOUNG DEDE: He’s just a friend. That’s all.
MARIA TERESA: Like Minerva and Lio.
MINERVA: Mate!
PATRIA: He’s proposed already…
YOUNG DEDE: Well, he’s…we’ve been…But I don’t know…
MARIA TERESA: Jaimito and you make a good couple.
28
YOUNG DEDE: What do you know about such things?
MARIA TERESA: Did he kiss you? Did you kiss him back? How did he propose?
YOUNG DEDE: I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.
PATRIA: Ay, mujer, marry him. He loves you.
MINERVA: He’s been flirting with you since you were little kids. You’re destined for each
other.
MARIA TERESA: Like you’re destined for Lio Morales.
MINERVA: Lio and I have an affinity. That’s all. We share the same ideals. A man and a
woman can be friends.
MARIA TERESA: Friends that blush when they see each other?
PATRIA: Mate, don’t be fresh!
YOUNG DEDE: I only know…things are getting more and more difficult for those that
oppose Trujillo. Jaimito says Lio might have to go into exile.
A brief moment.
MINERVA: He’ll do what he has to do.
MARIA TERESA: Hasn’t he asked you to run away with him?
MINERVA: I wouldn’t go anyway.
YOUNG DEDE: I don’t understand.
MINERVA: What? What don’t you understand, Dede?
YOUNG DEDE: You’re risking your life for him and –
MINERVA: I go to meetings. I take part in so-called “subversive activities,” for my
country, not for Lio. My life doesn’t revolve around a man.
YOUNG DEDE: Are you saying mine-?
MINERVA: Dede, you’re in love with Jaimito. You always have been. With Lio and me,
it’s different.
MARIA TERESA: Because you don’t want to admit it.
29
PATRIA: Mate, cierra ese piquito. Ya!.
MINERVA: I’ll do what I want. All right? Neither you nor anyone will decide what I’m
going to do with my life! I’m sick of all this gossip and nonsense. If Lio Morales has to go
into exile, then that’s what he’ll do. If he asks me to go with him, that’s one thing, but I’m
not going to… No. (Minerva walks away)
PATRIA: Minerva.
MINERVA: No!
Minerva exits (goes to house). Pause.
YOUNG DEDE: She gets so upset when I…
PATRIA: She loves him. Like you and Jaimito.
YOUNG DEDE: That’s different. He doesn’t want anything to do with politics…. What’s
happening in this country?
PATRIA: I don’t know.
YOUNG DEDE: I get so scared sometimes.
MARIA TERESA (looking at magazine): Did you see this?
PATRIA: What now?
MARIA TERESA: Zsa Zsa Gabor had dinner with Ramfis, the Generalisimo’s son. It
says here she wore shoes with diamond heels.
PATRIA: Diamonds?
MARIA TERESA: A gift. Custom made exclusively in Paris.
YOUNG DEDE: Let me see that.
MARIA TERESA: Can you imagine?
YOUNG DEDE: Diamond heels. That’s what he spends our people’s money on.
Diamond heels for beauty queens and so-called aspiring socialites.
MARIA TERESA: Aren’t they pretty?
YOUNG DEDE: Disgusting, more like.
30
PATRIA: Come on, Mate. Let’s stop looking at the stars and help Mama with dinner.
Remember we’re going to make that special flan.
MARIA TERESA: Oh. Si! Flan de naranjas!
PATRIA (to Dede): Joining us, Dede?
MARIA TERESA: Do you think Mama could buy me a dress like the one in the
magazine?
PATRIA: We’ll see. (to Dede) Help us in the kitchen?
YOUNG DEDE: I need to finish adding this up for Papa.
PATRIA: All right. Come on, Mate.
MARIA TERESA (putting down magazine): Okay!
Patria and Maria Teresa go within (inside the house). A moment.
Dede focuses on her accounting.
YOUNG DEDE: (adding numbers): Two, four, sixteen, forty, twenty-five, seventy…
DJ is now LIO MORALES. He enters, looks at Dede, lost in her accounting.
DJ as LIO: Counting how many days are left in the year?
YOUNG DEDE: Lio. What are you-?
DJ as LIO: I wanted to see Minerva. Is she around?
YOUNG DEDE: She’s inside. Resting up a bit. (a little lie) She doesn’t feel well.
DJ as LIO: Is she all right?
YOUNG DEDE: (continuing the lie) Something she ate. She’ll get over it.
DJ as LIO: Well, if you would…
YOUNG DEDE: Would you like to sit down for a while?
DJ as LIO: I don’t have much time to-
YOUNG DEDE: Just a little while. … Lemonade? We made it this afternoon. It was so
hot.
DJ as LIO: We’re in the Caribbean.
31
YOUNG DEDE: How’s that?
DJ as LIO: We always talk about the heat as if it were something unexpected.
YOUNG DEDE: (she laughs, with affection) Ay, Lio…You’re right. You’re smarter than
all of us put together.
DJ as LIO: I just do what I can.
A moment.
DJ as LIO: I love this garden. I wish I could stay here forever.
YOUNG DEDE: Well, you could…
DJ as LIO: Things are starting to get really bad.
YOUNG DEDE: In what sense?
DJ as LIO: In this country’s sense. Are you blind all of a sudden?
YOUNG DEDE: No, no, not at all. I see things, hear what’s going on, what people say
behind closed doors; why, people are being sent to prison for any ol’ thing-
DJ as LIO: Then, you understand, if I stay here much longer, they’ll kill me.
YOUNG DEDE: They wouldn’t-
DJ as LIO: They’ll kill me, Dede. And they won’t think twice about it either. It’d be a
feather in their cap if they kill me off. One less revolutionary in Ciudad Trujillo!
YOUNG DEDE: Maybe if you give it time-
DJ as LIO: How long? Til we’re all dead?
A moment.
DJ as LIO: I have to go.
YOUNG DEDE: What will you-?
DJ as LIO: I’ve worked it out. Don’t worry. Just give this letter to Minerva. It explains
everything. (he hands her letter) Thanks for the lemonade, Dede.
YOUNG DEDE: But Lio-
32
DJ as LIO: Do me the favor. Please. Give it to her as soon as you can. I can’t stay here
much longer. They’ve got their eye on me.
YOUNG DEDE: (cries quietly)
DJ as LIO: Hey. Hey. Don’t get all… (goes to her, embraces her) Everything will work
itself out. You’ll see. We just have to work together. … Where’s that smile? What’s that
sweet Mirabal sisters smile?
Dede smiles slightly.
DJ as LIO: Give her the letter. Promise?
YOUNG DEDE: Yes. As soon as she wakes up.
DJ as LIO: Don’t cry, mujer. Have faith. Without it, we’re nothing.
A moment. He walks away.
DJ as LIO: Take care, Dede.
YOUNG DEDE: You too.
He exits. Dede (Younger) opens the letter.
In present time, Dede (Older) watches her younger self.
OLD DEDE: (as if re-reading the letter in her mind)
“Dear Minerva,
Go to the Colombian embassy. Tell them you are there to see the art exhibit. Stay. If
you stay, they’ll know you want to leave Santo Domingo. They’ll help you.
Love,
Lio Morales”
A moment.
Willfully, impulsively, Dede (Younger) tears the letter in half, and exits into the house.
33
Scene 9.
Time shifts to the present. Dede (Older) seems lost in thought for a moment.
OLD DEDE: His words burned through the ink in that letter. I didn’t know what to…
People were being arrested every day in that part of the city precisely because
authorities knew they were trying to use the embassy as a way out. How could I let
Minerva read…? If I’d only known...
AMERICAN WOMAN (now in view): You were in love.
OLD DEDE: Jaime, Jaimito was the man I loved. I married him.
AMERICAN WOMAN: Yes, but-
OLD DEDE: Want to tell my story now? Think you know what’s in my heart? Like all
Americans…
AMERICAN WOMAN: What does that have to-?
OLD DEDE: They came to our country and sat in his mansion and ate his food and
drank his wine and traveled with him on his yacht. All your great big movie stars, Jimmy
Stewart and Kim Novak…and all the rest… wanted to be part of Trujillo’s entourage. But
they didn’t want to find out what was really happening in our country. For them, El Jefe
was the king, and everything was fine.
AMERICAN WOMAN: Nobody said that.
OLD DEDE: Maybe not your mother or your father… because they were from here. But
other people in New York, walking down the street, they thought such things.
AMERICAN WOMAN: Look, you have to forgive me, Do~na Dede, but my parents had
to leave this country, and their friends too. And “people walking down the street,” as you
say, weren’t swayed so easily then. Not everyone in the States was clueless.
OLD DEDE: What about those people wanted to believe in the propaganda? What
about them? What about the people that turned a blind eye to the fact that people here
were being put in prison for no reason, tortured, murdered…
Even when he died, even when Trujillo died, I remember that article in Time magazine,
(with irony) an important magazine in your country, right? 9th of June, 1961, they said he
was a “model strongman.” He was so good at maintaining the country’s equilibrium. So
good at reducing the foreign debt. Hurrah for El Jefe! But oh yes, when he started to
seek Moscow out as a possible ally, that’s when the CIA said No, no, this one’s not
34
good for us anymore. We can’t have another communist in the Caribbean. Of course
they use the word “communist” any way they want.
AMERICAN WOMAN: People say all sorts of things.
OLD DEDE: And writers follow their lead.
AMERICAN WOMAN: I don’t.
OLD DEDE: What do you do, then?
AMERICAN WOMAN: Every time I think about everything that my parents went through
to come to the States and everything that my parents’ friends went through… Look, it
may not be my history, my life, but it’s my blood. I feel things. I feel for what happened
and what keeps happening in this country. It tears me up. And there are nights when I
just cry myself to sleep. Just like I was a little girl again living with my parents in that tiny
apartment, listening to them speak Spanish, desperately trying to understand what it
was that they were saying to each other. Sometimes, I don’t know how to go on, with
the burden of responsibility that I feel as a writer, woman, citizen, to honor the memories
of my parents, their friends, my people, this country, although it’s not mine. I know. I’m
well aware. Every day. Every day I walk through these streets and people look at me or
judge my accent when I speak Spanish. Because here, I’m the American, and that’s
how I’m seen. As the American who doesn’t have a right to anything. No matter how
much I try to explain…
A moment.
OLD DEDE: I’m sorry. It’s just that every time I talk about things…I remember more and
more…a new thought, a new memory. I look at you and…conchale, you remind me of…
AMERICAN WOMAN: Ta bien, ta bien.
A moment between them.
AMERICAN WOMAN: …If I write a book about all of this one day…I’d like to go around
things…
OLD DEDE: How’s that?
AMERICAN WOMAN: To talk about the little things in life, the things that aren’t so
direct, the things that, at day’s end, we remember the most.
OLD DEDE: Las cosas peque~nas de la vida?
AMERICAN WOMAN: Si.
35
A moment. In the past, Patria is seen walking through a part of the garden.
OLD DEDE: Every time. I think of Lio Morales…
AMERICAN WOMAN: Minerva loved him.
OLD DEDE: She always said they were just friends.
AMERICAN WOMAN: And you believed her?
OLD DEDE: … I was a girl. A silly girl. We all were: silly girls. I don’t know what I was
thinking. It took me such a long time to… “wake up”. … But then, we all had to in 1949.
That year, everything changed.
36
Scene 10.
1949. Afternoon. Patria, 25, is putting on makeup. She’s already dressed for the party.
Maria Teresa, age 14, enters. She wears a new party dress.
Old Dede may remain, from previous, witnessing this scene.
MARIA TERESA: What do you think?
PATRIA: It’s a dress.
MARIA TERESA: Ay, Patria, don’t be so boring. Do you like it or not?
PATRIA: It’s nice.
MARIA TERESA: Nice? Is that all you’re going to say? Look at it!
Maria Teresa poses, perhaps even twirls, showing off the dress.
PATRIA: Bueno, ta bien.
MARIA TERESA: It’s sublime ta bien! I can’t wait to go to the party.
OLDER DEDE (as witness to the scene): What party?
MARIA TERESA: Trujillo’s party.
YOUNG DEDE (entering): You’re not going to any such party.
MARIA TERESA: Dede!
YOUNG DEDE: You know what Mama says.
PATRIA: You’re too young.
MARIA TERESA: But I want to go.
ENRIQUE MIRABAL, their father, enters. He’s wearing a suit.
ENRIQUE: You can’t go, mi’ja.
MARIA TERESA: Ay, Papa, por que?
ENRIQUE: Because you’re too beautiful. That’s why. The world has to wait a little bit
longer to appreciate Maria Teresa’s exquisite beauty.
MARIA TERESA: The world? I’d settle for Santo Domingo.
37
ENRIQUE: You know what I mean, Mate.
PATRIA: Ay, Papa, don’t flatter her too much.
ENRIQUE: And why not?
YOUNG DEDE: Because she’ll start to believe you.
MARIA TERESA: I do believe him. My beauty is rare and wondrous.
PATRIA (to the father): See what you started!
ENRIQUE: A little compliment never hurt anyone. You’re all looking lovely tonight.
YOUNG DEDE & PATRIA & MARIA TERESA: Gracias, Papa.
ENRIQUE: Y Minerva?
YOUNG DEDE: Debe estar por ahi.
ENRIQUE: Make sure she gets ready. We can’t be late. It’s the last thing we need.
YOUNG DEDE: Are you okay, Papa?
ENRIQUE: Yes. Yes. I’m fine.
YOUNG DEDE: Trujillo invited us, after all. I’m sure it’s a good sign.
ENRIQUE: Maybe. It’s just that… well…
PATRIA: We pray, right?
ENRIQUE: Claro que si, Patria. We pray. It’s all for the best. Come on. Give me a hug.
They do.
ENRIQUE: And make sure Minerva gets herself together.
PATRIA: Don’t worry. We’ll all be ready on time.
ENRIQUE: My beautiful girls.
MARIA TERESA: How beautiful?
ENRIQUE: Now now, Mate. Don’t get stuck-up. It’s not becoming. I’ll wait for you in the
living room.
YOUNG DEDE: Ta bien, Papa.
38
ENRIQUE: My beautiful girls.
ENRIQUE walks away.
YOUNG DEDE: He looks worried.
PATRIA: You know how he gets. He doesn’t like parties.
YOUNG DEDE: Y menos uno de Trujillo!
PATRIA: I still don’t know why Trujillo invited Papa to this party.
YOUNG DEDE: Because El Jefe has his eye on Minerva, that’s why. And what El Jefe
says, goes. So, Papa and Minerva have to go. And we have to go because Minerva
can’t go alone with Papa.
PATRIA: Bueno.
YOUNG DEDE: Right?
PATRIA: For protection. Exactly.
YOUNG DEDE: Trujillo has a wandering hand, as they say.
MARIA TERESA: How many girlfriends has he had?
YOUNG DEDE: Between the wives and the girlfriends…too many to count.
PATRIA: Disgusting.
MARIA TERESA: But I put on my new dress and everything.
MINERVA (23 years old; entering): Well, you’ll have to take it off, because you’re not
going anywhere.
MARIA TERESA: This is so not fair. You get to go everywhere and do everything, and I
have to wait and wait-
YOUNG DEDE: You’ll have your quincea~nera soon enough. After that, you can…
MARIA TERESA: Stupid traditions.
PATRIA: Mate, please.
MARIA TERESA: After my quincea~nera, you’ll see… I’ll have all of the boys eating out
of the palm of my hand. My dance-card will be absolutely full.
39
MINERVA: And then what?
MARIA TERESA: Just cause you’re snooty and don’t like boys-
MINERVA: I like boys. I just don’t like the ones from around here, that’s all.
MARIA TERESA: Just one who’s some other where?
MINERVA: What are you getting at?
MARIA TERESA: You’ll see. I’m going to wear not just one new dress, but hundreds of
dresses by all the famous designers from all over the world. I’m going to be positively
amazing!
Maria Teresa exits.
YOUNG DEDE: She’s crazy. That’s clear.
MINERVA: Ay, Dede, she doesn’t know what she wants.
PATRIA: I wouldn’t say that. She knows exactly what she wants.
MINERVA: New shoes and new clothes?
YOUNG DEDE: The way she goes on about things…
PATRIA: I thought she’d be more grown up by now.
YOUNG DEDE: We can’t all be like you, Patria.
PATRIA: She worries me. She has absolutely no sense of responsibility.
YOUNG DEDE: Head in the clouds.
MINERVA: One day, one day she’ll learn…
A moment.
MINERVA: I wish I didn’t have to go to this “swell” party.
PATRIA: Don’t we all.
YOUNG DEDE: You know Papa can’t refuse…
MINERVA: I don’t want to go.
PATRIA: Shh.
40
YOUNG DEDE: You don’t want Papa to get into trouble. It’s the last thing he needs…
MINERVA: Papa wants to protect us, but what does he do? He hides things.
YOUNG DEDE: He has nothing to -
MINERVA: Virgilio’s been writing to me.
PATRIA: Lio Morales?
MINERVA: Letters and letters and Papa’s been…
PATRIA: That’s not possible.
MINERVA: I found them. He had them stashed away. I found Virgilio’s letters.
YOUNG DEDE: Rummaging around in Papa’s things?
MINERVA: Yes. And why not?
PATRIA: I’m sure Papa only wanted-
MINERVA: The best for me?
YOUNG DEDE: He just wants to protect you. Lio Morales is…
MINERVA: An enemy of the state. And if I communicate with him, I’m also an enemy.
And if Trujillo finds out, he’ll send me to prison. Well, I’d rather go to prison.
PATRIA: Minerva!
MINERVA: What am I doing here? What can I achieve here? Sinita and all my other
friends are in college already, making their own lives, and I’m not even-
YOUNG DEDE: You’ll go to law school soon enough.
MINERVA: When? …Lio wants to share his future with me. In his letters, he-
YOUNG DEDE: Papa was just trying to do the right-
MINERVA: Papa wants to keep me cooped up here. Like Daddy’s little girl. Well, I’m not
his little girl anymore. I am not. Conchale.
A moment.
YOUNG DEDE: We have to go to the party.
MINERVA: Makes me sick.
41
PATRIA: It’s just a party.
MINERVA: So El Jefe can feel me up?
PATRIA: Minerva!
MINERVA: It’s what he does. Everybody knows that.
YOUNG DEDE: We’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t worry.
MINERVA: I’d like to have that sonofabitch in my hands, strangle him slowly, and make
him pay for all the women he’s ruined, and for everything’s he done in this country in the
name of- .
PATRIA: You’ll do nothing of the-
MINERVA: Just dreaming, Patria, dreaming of a different life.
42
Scene 11.
Quick shift to the present. Dede (Older) speaks to Minerva in mind. A memory shiver.
OLD DEDE: What life did you dream when your blood stained the fields of sugar?
What life could you have led if you hadn’t gone to that party?
What dreams dare we dream when we’re prisoners in our own country?
What sighs can we release in the tyrannical sway of a tropical night?
Dede (Older) fades, as the action and time shifts to 1949. Evening. The DJ spins as the
party is set up in the garden of Trujillo’s mansion in San Cristobal.
Projections: world of glamour. Enchanted lights, perhaps a canopy of magic lanterns,
many flags of the Dominican Republic everywhere. This is Ciudad Trujillo’s ethos in all
its “glory.”
DJ: What smiles do we see
In the sweet serenity of this garden
Where El Jefe basks in the company of his guests
On this long autumn evening?
It’s Discovery Day.
The day Columbus lost his ship’s way
And found us in the middle of the sea.
DJ fades, as Dede (Younger), Patria and Minerva walk through Trujillo’s garden.
MINERVA: Amazing, eh?
YOUNG DEDE: He knows how to put on a party.
MINERVA: Look at all those flowers.
PATRIA: Like a canopy across the trees.
MINERVA: Strange.
YOUNG DEDE: What’s that?
MINERVA: It’s so beautiful here you wouldn’t think anything was wrong with this country.
PATRIA: Shh.
43
A sweet bolero from the 1940s is heard.
MINERVA: I love this song.
YOUNG DEDE: Thought you didn’t want to come.
MINERVA: That has nothing to do with the song.
The DJ has become Trujillo. He is seen on other side of the stage. He approaches the
sisters.
PATRIA: He’s headed this way.
YOUNG DEDE: Be careful, Minerva.
MINERVA: I can handle him.
DJ as TRUJILLO: May I have the pleasure?
MINERVA: Perhaps when the next song-
DJ as TRUJILLO: Now.
MINERVA: Yes, Generalisimo.
Trujillo and Minerva move onto the dance area.
YOUNG DEDE: I’m worried.
PATRIA: She’ll be fine.
YOUNG DEDE: How can you say that?
PATRIA: He’s not going to do anything while we’re-
YOUNG DEDE: He’s a snake.
PATRIA: Cierra ese piquito!
YOUNG DEDE: He does whatever he pleases.
Shift to Trujillo and Minerva, as if they were alone on the dance floor in a strange,
sensual, oddly breezy encounter.
DJ as TRUJILLO: You dance well. Women from El Cibao are famous for being good
dancers and good lovers.
MINERVA: Not everyone in El Cibao is the same.
44
DJ as TRUJILLO: You should set yourself up in the capital. I’d like to take classes with
you.
MINERVA: I’m sure Generalisimo Trujillo can hire someone to teach him how to dance..
DJ as TRUJILLO: Please. Call me Rafael.
MINERVA: Yes, sir. Rafael.
DJ as TRUJILLO: You’re very beautiful tonight, Miss Mirabal.
MINERVA: A woman shouldn’t be admired only for her beauty, Generalisimo.
DJ as TRUJILLO: What else should she be admired for?
MINERVA: What she thinks about the world.
DJ as TRUJILLO: You have thoughts about the world? Fancy yourself a politician?
MINERVA: I want to be a lawyer.
DJ as TRUJILLO: The law is a complicated career.
MINERVA: If a person’s dedicated, complications can be overcome.
DJ as TRUJILLO: I’m going to shut down the university.
Music cuts out as “band” preps to shift to another song on their playlist. The dialogue
continues.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Too many agitators, people, like Virgilio Morales, for instance… Know
him?
MINERVA: I’ve heard he went to university. His family’s from our neighborhood.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Men like Morales want to destroy this country.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Men like Morales have no sense of the future, Miss Mirabal.
MINERVA: I barely know him.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Best that you don’t. He’s a bad influence.
MINERVA: But…
DJ as TRUJILLO: What?
45
MINERVA: It’s good to have an exchange of ideas. Isn’t that why we live in a
progressive country?
Music changes to another bolero.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Did your father teach you how to dance, Miss?
MINERVA (a tactic): Minerva. Please.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Goddess of wisdom? I’ll place an owl on your shoulder, my goddess,
and hold you up for the whole world to see.
MINERVA: Sir, I-
DJ as TRUJILLO: I love your perfume, Minerva.
MINERVA: Your medals… they’re…
DJ as TRUJILLO: Then I’ll take off my clothes.
MINERVA: Sir.
DJ as TRUJILLO: I’ll strip (down to nothing), so we can be more comfortable-
Minerva slaps him. A moment. It’s as if everything has stopped, and everyone in the
party is looking at them. A sea of eyes.
The country’s flags sway in the silence of the night. A moment.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Co~no. That’s how I like my women. Strong. Full of personality. Let’s
see, Minerva. Let’s see how you defend yourself.
MINERVA: I have to-
DJ as TRUJILLO: The only thing you have to do is: be my goddess, dear one. I’m going
to place an enchanted owl upon your shoulder all night.
A moment. DJ as Trujillo exits.
Minerva remains.
46
Scene 12.
A few minutes later. As Dede (Younger), Patria and Minerva.
YOUNG DEDE: What did you think you were doing?
PATRIA: He could’ve sent you to prison.
MINERVA: I’d rather be in prison than-
PATRIA: We’ll have to apologize. For everything. You realize that.
YOUNG DEDE: You know full well that what you did is not allowed.
MINERVA: There isn’t a law-
YOUNG DEDE: But it’s understood. If you confront El Jefe, you’re risking death.
PATRIA: Think of our poor father. You’re not alone in all this.
MINERVA: My purse. Where’s my-?
PATRIA: Didn’t you have it-?
MINERVA: I thought I-
YOUNG DEDE: Are you sure you even-?
MINERVA: Of course I- … Dede, didn’t I give it to you so that you would…? Ay Dios.
PATRIA: What is it?
MINERVA: I left it. Left it behind,
PATRIA: Well, tomorrow when we hand in our letter of apology, we’ll-
MINERVA: You don’t understand! One of Lio’s letter was in my purse.
YOUNG DEDE: What?
MINERVA: One of the ones that Papa kept from me. I took it and… They’ll find it. They’ll
know that I-
PATRIA: Ay Dios mio.
MINERVA: I’m sorry. I’m so…
47
Scene 13.
Shift to the present. Dede (Older).
DEDE (Older): She wouldn’t stop apologizing that night. A night of tears, and then,
years and years of… How I’ve retraced it in my mind…because the truth… What truth
guides my actions? Now? Then? “This story I write, I write because it lives inside of me.
The night after the party, Papa sent his apologies to El Jefe
But El Jefe wanted more.
MINERVA (appears): The guards came to the house. They asked Papa to come with them.
OLD DEDE: The guards came to the house. We screamed.
MINERVA: They closed the door and took Papa away.
OLD DEDE: Days went by.
MINERVA: Every day I tried to appeal Papa’s case to whomever I could, but I’d get the
same answer every time:
OLD DEDE: You know what you need to do to get your dad out of jail, they said.
MINERVA: Trujillo requested that I go to the capital.
OLD DEDE: He made her wait three weeks.
MINERVA: Three weeks, until, finally, El Jefe showed his face.
OLD DEDE: Our lives were to be governed by a roll of his die.
48
Scene 14
Shift to 1949. Projection: interior of Trujillo’s office. DJ as Trujillo and Minerva.
MINERVA: You can’t keep my father in jail forever.
DJ as TRUJILLO: He’s not in jail.
MINERVA: Where is he, then?
DJ as TRUJILLO: He’s safe.
MINERVA: In your hands?
DJ as TRUJILLO: There are laws in this country, Miss Mirabal. Laws that must exist, or
else our lives would be chaos.
MINERVA: My father hasn’t done anything. Please. There’s no need to detain him. He’s
apologized already.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Yes. But Lio Morales is a dangerous man.
MINERVA: My father doesn’t know him.
DJ as TRUJILLO: But you do. You know him.
MINERVA: I’ve told you, I’ve told everyone, I’m not in communication with Virgilio
Morales.
DJ as TRUJILLO: So, the letter…?
MINERVA: He was obsessed with me. He wrote me a letter. I never answered it.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Why do you lie to me, Minerva, goddess of wisdom?
MINERVA: I don’t-
DJ as TRUJILLO: You lied to me that night. You lied when you said-
MINERVA: It’s been three weeks, sir. My father’s not in good health. He could have a
heart attack or a-
DJ as TRUJILLO: I told you. He’s safe.
MINERVA: Please. … Rafael.
DJ as TRUJILLO: …You still want to be a lawyer, Minerva?
49
MINERVA: More than anything.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Funny how life is… what you want, what I want… Tell you what, why
don’t we play a little game?
MINERVA: What game?
DJ as TRUJILLO: Dice.
MINERVA: I don’t understand-
DJ as TRUJILLO (takes out dice): What’s to understand? It’s a game. Have a seat,
Minerva. Sit that pretty ass down.
She does not sit.
MINERVA: You talk like this to everyone?
DJ as TRUJLLO: Dear little goddess of wisdom, what games we could play…
MINERVA: I haven’t played dice in a long time.
DJ as TRUJILLO: We’ll take it slow. Get you up to speed.
MINERVA: And if I win…
DJ as TRUJILLO: If you win, you get your wish. Your father will be released, and you’ll
go to law school.
MINERVA: And if you-
DJ as TRUJILLO: I get mine.
Projection: Dice rolls. And rolls and rolls.
50
Scene 15.
In suspended time, Old Dede to and with Minerva in the intimacy of memory.
OLD DEDE: You played your life with every roll of the die.
While Trujillo stared at your legs.
MINERVA: Let him stare. Let him distract himself.
OLD DEDE (as if in the game): One, four, fourteen.
MINERVA: Everything’s in my hands.
OLD DEDE: Everything was within your reach.
MINERVA: Something had started between El Jefe and me
That neither of us could ever stop.
Here: we play to the death.
OLD DEDE (in the game): One, four
MINERVA (in the game): Eight.
OLD DEDE: You beat El Jefe.
MINERVA: A miracle.
Projection: image of an empty suit resting in a coffin.
OLD DEDE: Our father was released from jail.
MINERVA: …He was so weak, so ill. I barely recognized him. He could barely speak.
He didn’t know where he was. …
OLD DEDE: He died a few weeks later. People don’t know what they really have in their
lives until it’s gone. And then, they cry.
The voices of the Mirabal sisters are heard in mourning. Perhaps we see a projected
image of their father Enrique Mirabal in the background, or the ghost of him walking.
“The Flowers of Santo Domingo (reprise)”
ALL: The Flowers of Santo Domingo
Young women who weep and shout
51
For their island
The Flowers of Santo Domingo
The Flowers of Santo Domingo
52
Scene 16.
Time shifts to the present.
OLD DEDE: But a person can’t forget everything. No matter how much they try. And
after five years at university, five long years, the past came back to Minerva as cold and
harsh as a knife.
Minerva finally got her degree, yes, the first one in our family to graduate from
university, and what did El Jefe do? He denied her the right to practice. He refused to
grant her the license.
Sleepless nights, exam after exam, dream after dream, and Minerva was back where
she started. And El Jefe laughed and laughed.
1957. In the garden. The day after Minerva’s graduation. Patria, age 33, knits. Maria
Teresa, age 22, drinks a soda. Dede (Younger, age 32,) cuts stems off of flowers to put
them in a vase later. Minerva, age 31, writes in her journal.
MARIA TERESA: He’s perverse.
MINERVA: Things happen for a reason.
MARIA TERESA: All those years studying…
MINERVA: I graduated. That’s what counts.
MARIA TERESA: What good’s a degree if you can’t do anything with it?
PATRIA: Maybe in a few years.
MARIA TERESA: What?
PATRIA: Maybe he’ll grant her the license.
YOUNG DEDE: He’ll never grant it.
MARIA TERESA: Why do you say that?
YOUNG DEDE: He hates her. Hates all of us.
MINERVA: Let’s talk about something else.
PATRIA (to Dede): How could you-?
YOUNG DEDE: Enemies of the state. Because of a letter. A letter in a purse-
53
PATRIA: Dede, that was eight years ago. That’s in the past.
YOUNG DEDE: You think it’s “passed’ for him? El Jefe doesn’t forget anything. Not a
thing, mujer.
MARIA TERESA: He’s a freak.
PATRIA: Don’t use such ugly words, Mate.
MARIA TERESA: A perverse freak.
PATRIA: Shh.
MARIA TERESA (to Minerva): I don’t know how you can sit there and be so calm. As if
nothing had happened.
YOUNG DEDE: She’s thinking about the past.
MINERVA: I’m not thinking about anything, Dede.
MARIA TERESA: We got all ready, put on our nicest dresses, planned the whole
graduation party, and what a party, too! All so that monster could… All for nothing.
YOUNG DEDE: We’ll need to put all those party things away. They’re still there from
yesterday.
MARIA TERESA: Let them rot.
PATRIA: Don’t say that, nin~na.
A moment.
MINERVA: Well, you’ll graduate soon, Mate. We’ll throw a big party, then.
MARIA TERESA: I’m not graduating yet.
PATRIA (in thought): …There’s so much to do.
YOUNG DEDE: What?
PATRIA: …there’s so much to do. In the future.
YOUNG DEDE: And the present can go to hell?
PATRIA: That’s not what I-
YOUNG DEDE: Down in flames.
54
PATRIA: What are you talking about?
YOUNG DEDE: She sits there, accepting her punishment. What are you writing now? A
little story to make the day go by faster, a prayer to ask Papa for forgiveness?
MINERVA: You are out of line. Way out.
YOUNG DEDE: Really?
MINERVA: What’s gotten into you? You want to dredge up the past? The past is over.
MARIA TERESA: What about your career?
MINERVA: A career. Yes. But, if things go on the way they are, I can’t spend my whole
life fighting for a career, jeopardizing everyone around me, drowning in despair,
because despair doesn’t get anything done. It’s doing things that gets things done. All I
know is that to struggle, to fight, is all we have. To fight for this country. Our family. Our
children. Not for a mere license.
YOUNG DEDE: And what you’re owed?
MINERVA: What I’m owed, what we’re owed… is a future where what happened to me
yesterday at graduation doesn’t happen ever again to anyone else. Understand? We
have to muster our resolve. Get things done. And getting things done has nothing to do
with saying mean things to your own flesh and blood. Hear me?
YOUNG DEDE: Yeah, yeah, I get it.
MINERVA: No, you don’t. You never have. You think I’m not angry? You think I just go
from one day to the next without…? I, more than anyone, am furious about what
happened. It was five years of my life, five years of countless hours, pouring over books
and papers and research and this law and that case…I EARNED the degree. No one
gave it to me. No one. It’s mine. And if one day our struggle turns this country back
around to some state of normalcy, and Trujillo is sent to some dungeon, or is killed like
a rabid dog, as he should be, I’ll get my license. Don’t worry. The degree still counts for
something. My effort and sacrifice were not in vain. Now, I don’t want to argue about or
hear about this anymore. Hear me?
We’re sisters. Co~no! Family’s all we have. Our family’s our country.
Time shifts. Lights slowly focuses on Minerva as she is witnessed by American Woman.
55
MINERVA: I wake up early in the morning and think about the butterflies that collided
against the bars between the windows at school when I was a little girl. They were so
beautiful. I wanted to be just like them. … A dream of youth that will one day be real.
56
Part Two
Scene 17.
1957 and the present. A Dominican merengue is heard in the background. The DJ spins
his song.
DJ: Sweet tale for a sweet time.
Lovers all over the world unite.
A frenetic kiss is coming your way
Courtesy of a new sound:
Hold on now,
Twist, shimmy and shake, mi gente. Hold on!
Watch what wakes
The anxiety of a night
Destroyed
By small voices that cry:
Hey, is that you?
Do you know a Mariposa?
Where’s my pretty butterfly tonight?
The American Woman writes as she observes the Mariposas in mind.
AMERICAN WOMAN: Here the Butterflies spin games underground,
Doing what they can midst El Jefe’s roaring sound.
One step, two
They risk it all
To hear those sweet chimes of freedom.
This is the story of a day
That will never end.
This is the story of a people
57
That will never bend
Against the monstrous specter of tyranny.
Time shift. 1957. Maria Teresa, 22, is seen staring at a box.
After a moment, she pries it open. In it are a stack of guns.
AMERICAN WOMAN & MARIA TERESA:
Here, between a sliver of sand and an old sea
A humble box of oak
carries in it dreams
Of action and peace.
Maria Teresa closes the box.
58
Scene 18.
Continuous scene. 1957. Maria Teresa is seated on the box. Minerva, 31, walks in.
MINERVA: What are you doing?
MARIA TERESA: Some man came by. Asked me if I was the Mariposa’s little sister.
MINERVA: … We have to get this box out of sight.
MARIA TERESA: … Am I the Mariposa’s little sister?
MINERVA: How much did he tell you?
MARIA TERESA: He asked me if I was one of us.
MINERVA: And what did you say?
MARIA TERESA: … I didn’t say anything, but he was handsome, and I think, yes, I’d
like to be “one of us.”
MINERVA: Stop. This is serious.
MARIA TERESA (teasing a bit): But he was handsome.
MINERVA: Must’ve been Palomino that came by, then.
MARIA TERESA: Palomino, Palomino…I love his name.
MINERVA: It’s not his real name.
MARIA TERESA: What’s his real name, then?
MINERVA: Shh.
MARIA TERESA: Nobody’s listening, mujer. What is it? What’s all this? What does it
mean to be a Butterfly?
MINERVA: It’s a code name. We all have one.
MARIA TERESA: Ay, well I want a code name, too. Why not? I want to help.
MINERVA: Help what?
MARIA TERESA: …Kill El Jefe.
MINERVA: What do you know about any of this?
59
MARIA TERESA: I know what’s going on.
MINERVA: Is that so? Some cute guy comes by and all of a sudden you want to be part
of a cause?
MARIA TERESA: It’s not just ‘cause of some guy. Patria, Dede…what are they doing
with their lives?
MINERVA: They’re fine.
MARIA TERESA: Patria got married. Sixteen years ago. And what?
MINERVA: She has a family.
MARIA TERESA: And Dede lets Jaime run her life… Look, Palomino is handsome, but
that’s not the reason why I want to do something. I don’t want to sit around and let
people do things for me. I want to change this country.
MINERVA: We’re talking about guns, explosives... This is not a game.
MARIA TERESA: I can handle it.
MINERVA: You can’t let anyone know, understand? When we plan things, when we
carry out an order…
MARIA TERESA: I know how to keep a secret. I’m your sister, remember?
MINERVA: …Okay.
MARIA TERESA: Yeah?
MINERVA: But if you get scared..
MARIA TERESA: I’m not afraid of anything.
MINERVA: Mate “the hero,” eh?
MARIA TERESA: That’s right.
MINERVA: Since when?
MARIA TERESA: Since always. You just never noticed. Besides, if you get scared, we
can be scared together, right?
MINERVA: (to lift the box) Help me with this.
They lift the box together.
60
MINERVA: (brief pause) You’re right.
MARIA TERESA: What?
MINERVA: Palomino is handsome.
They laugh, and carry the box out.
61
Scene 19. a movement is born (trio)
1959. Dede (Older), across time, & Dede (Younger) look at Patria as she prays.
OLD DEDE: My sisters laugh.
YOUNG DEDE: Patria prays. I don’t want to know what’s going on, but I sense things.
OLD DEDE: The country’s changing. There are more and more gunshots heard in the
streets, in the hills, every day.
YOUNG DEDE: I ask Jaime, what do we do? He says
OLD DEDE: Stay out of politics.
YOUNG DEDE: I ask Jaime, but what about Minerva and Mate? He says,
OLD DEDE: Save yourself for now. Leave them be.
YOUNG DEDE: The windows rattle. I try to hide.
OLD DEDE: What are my sisters are doing?
YOUNG DEDE: I don’t want to know.
OLD DEDE: Mariposa, a voice whispers.
YOUNG DEDE: I turn.
There’s nobody.
OLD DEDE & YOUNG DEDE: Find a place to hide.
Dede (Older) and Dede (Younger)’s images fade. Patria prays.
PATRIA: I try to shield my eyes. God, give me strength.
Maria Teresa is seen on one side of the stage.
Projection: mountains, quiet sea, plantain trees trembling, empty streets…
MARIA TERESA: 1959. Batista flees Cuba. Fidel Castro takes over. We drink and
celebrate to a new future of glorious revolution. We’re going to live this enchanted
dream forever.
PATRIA: I place my hand over the sun; I fight with every breath, I pray that nothing will
happen, that everyone by my side will be safe from harm.
62
MARIA TERESA: The streets burn.
PATRIA: The sky is grey. The ocean’s quiet.
MARIA TERESA: I want to do everything I can to help the cause.
PATRIA: Shouts are heard in the mountains.
MARIA TERESA: The sooner we get rid of those bastards in power, the better.
PATRIA: The streets are full of murmurs. You don’t know whom you can trust. Some
priests say we have to fight; others turn their parishioners in to the police.
MARIA TERESA: I carry weapons in my backpack. Run through the streets. Hide in
secret rooms.
PATRIA: They say soon,
MARIA TERESA & PATRIA: There will be an uprising.
MARIA TERESA: More ferocious than the one in Cuba. You’ll see.
PATRIA: What are you doing, Mate? What are you doing, Minerva? How do I find my
place in all of this? Always in shadow, always obedient, always Patria…
Projections: lights flickering in the mountains, hand-made crosses in fields where
citizens have died, holy water runs through a person’s hands, the image of the Virgin of
Altagracia, coffins filled with guns while:
MARIA TERESA: When it’s quiet I get scared. When everything’s like this, calm, I feel
as if I’m going to die. Dreams come to me, dreams of open coffins.
PATRIA: I don’t dream anymore.
MARIA TERESA: I’m dying of thirst.
PATRIA: Fear dances with truth: a dance of strange steps and murmurs. Mate’s
backpack is always heavy now. Always heavy. I don’t ask her anything.
I want my voice to count for something. I want my life to mean more than…
Minerva is seen on another side of the stage.
Projections: images of the sun hiding between the clouds, blood stained trees, sun’s
rays startling the bitter earth.
63
MINERVA: Whatever you can do. It’s our time, Patria. With Castro in power, we can
really mobilize the opposition and squash Trujillo once and for all.
PATRIA: My son gives me a little kick. I feel him in my belly. What kind of life will he
have? What kind of world will he live in?
MINERVA: I try not to think of anything, except
MARIA TERESA: Now.
MINERVA: Now, we have to do something
MARIA TERESA: Or we won’t move
MINERVA & MARIA TERESA: ever again.
Breath.
PATRIA: And that’s when…I go to a house in the mountains.
MINERVA: 14th of June.
PATRIA: Trujillo’s goons attack some men.
MARIA TERESA: Hide the sun. Hide it in your hands.
PATRIA: Windows shatter. (Sound) One explosion after another. (Sound) Smell of
smoke in the air. (Quiet)
MARIA TERESA: Muevete, I scream.
MINERVA: Muevete, I cry.
PATRIA: Dear God, don’t let me die here. Let my son see this world. .
MARIA TERESA: Muevete, I scream.
PATRIA: Pray.
MINERVA: Muevete, I cry.
PATRIA: Guards with machetes. Guards with rifles. Some farmhands try to hide.
MARIA TERESA: Don’t let them see.
MINERVA: Pray. God. Someone.
PATRIA: And one of the farmhands rises. It’s a boy. He starts to run.
64
MARIA TERESA: Don’t let them see.
PATRIA: The boy falls. A bullet in his back. I see life drain from him while his blood
stains the land, his mouth open in pain. Forgive me, Oh Lord.
MINERVA & MARIA TERESA (praying, sign of the cross): Forgive me.
PATRIA: How many boys will die in this war called “no war?” How many will I have to
see fall into little boxes in the earth filled with ants before I do something? How can a
person sit in a chair and let things go on and on?
Breath.
PATRIA: On this day I decide I will do whatever I can, before God
MINERVA: On this day as the sun’s rays
MARIA TERESA: shiver upon a tired earth
PATRIA: June 14, 1959
MARIA TERESA & MINERVA: June 14, 1959
PATRIA: The movement is born. And when my son enters the world, I baptize him Raul,
after Raul Castro.
PATRIA, MINERVA, MARIA TERESA: This revolution is stronger than all of us.
65
Scene 20: a photograph of Dede
Between 1960 and the present. Dede (Older) stands in the center of the garden with a
pitcher of lemonade in hand. She’s frozen in time, as if in a photograph. She seems
nervous, smiles. The DJ looks at her.
DJ: She stops for a moment
Looking for something in the past
Looking for something inside herself that she forgot years ago.
Muevete, mujer. Muevete.
What are you doing with that smile on your face? Who do you want to please?
For a moment, I think I see Minerva, Mate and Patria reflected in her eyes.
What’d the butterflies say when you walked by?
She hides her smile, raises her hand, as if she were saying goodbye.
Dede (Older) fades.
DJ: Or perhaps welcoming those who walk upon an ocean threaded through her own
blood.
Sisters’ voices are heard. It is 1960.
DJ disappears. Dede (Younger), age 35, appears.
DEDE (Younger): Come in, through here, I made lemonade!
Minerva (34), Patria (36), and Maria Teresa (25) enter.
MARIA TERESA: Always taking care of the house.
DEDE: It’s my duty. You know perfectly well Jaime doesn’t put up with any revolu in this
house.
MARIA TERESA (mocking): Naturally. What Jaime says, goes!
DEDE: He’s my husband.
MINERVA: He’s not your master.
66
DEDE: Look, if you’ve come here to argue, I’d rather you leave. I’m fine here. My life is
in order.
MARIA TERESA: Yes, but…
DEDE: But what?
PATRIA: Dede, you have to understand. We haven’t come here as your enemies. We
only want you-
MINERVA: To let us have the meeting here. For a few hours, that’s all.
PATRIA: We need a place. Everything’s gotten so complicated.
MARIA TERESA: Every day there are less and less places that are safe.
YOUNG DEDE: I know. I know. It’s just…
MINERVA: A few hours… A favor between sisters.
YOUNG DEDE: It’s just… Jaimito…
MARIA TERESA: Is a Trujillista.
YOUNG DEDE: Jaime is not a Trujillista! He’s cautious. That’s all.
MARIA TERESA: (playing with sounds of words): Trujillista, egoista
YOUNG DEDE: Look, if you’re going to keep on like that, you’d better leave.
MINERVA: There are only a few days left.
DEDE: What for?
PATRIA: Something big.
MARIA TERESA: (makes a gesture: razorblade slitting a throat)
DEDE: What’s that mean?
MARIA TERESA: Bye-bye, you know.
YOUNG DEDE: El Jefe?
MARIA TERESA: It’s all planned. We’re going to kill that sonofabitch.
YOUNG DEDE: You’re going to tell me that you’re-
67
MINERVA: Another group’s assigned to the task, while we take the fort at Salcedo.
YOUNG DEDE: Like pirates? You’re crazy.
PATRIA: You could help us.
YOUNG DEDE: Me?
MINERVA: You can be part of things, part of the meeting, everything. …We’ll be
stronger if we’re together. …Come on.
YOUNG: DEDE: …No. No.
The following dialogue sequence until the asterisk overlaps, as the argument escalates.
PATRIA: Dede.
YOUNG DEDE: No. I don’t want to get mixed up in anything.
MINERVA: You wouldn’t be-
YOUNG DEDE: No. No.
MINERVA: Always the same. Hiding in the bushes.
YOUNG DEDE: I don’t hide anywhere.
MINERVA: When we were little, it’s all you would do. Oh, you’re so brave, but when the
shit hits the fan, you hide and run away with your tail between your legs.
YOUNG DEDE: You have no right to talk to me like that in my house!
MINERVA: Just like Papa.
YOUNG DEDE: Papa was a hero!
MINERVA: But he bowed his head. Yes, sir. No, sir. Whatever you say, sir.
PATRIA: Let’s leave all this now.
YOUNG DEDE (to MINERVA): He did it for you, to defend your honor. Co~no!.
MARIA TERESA: He did it because he was scared.
PATRIA: We didn’t come here to fight.
MINERVA: Scared. Yes. Fear ate away at him. Fear ate his liver, destroyed him from
the inside.
68
YOUNG DEDE: What Papa had was respect.
MARIA TERESA: Respect for authority?
YOUNG DEDE: For authority. Yes!. Co~no! You make me crazy!
PATRIA: Tyrannical authority that ruins countries.
YOUNG DEDE: One has to have respect.
MINERVA: Don’t scare the bees or they’ll bite, right? Papa used to say that.
Remember?
YOUNG DEDE: Papa did everything-
MINERVA: Papa did, Papa did… and you?
YOUNG DEDE: Papa did everything he could for us! He laid down his life for us! When
he had no need… If they hadn’t taken him away that day-
MINERVA: My fault.
YOUNG DEDE: Yes. Your fault. Your stupid little love letter..
MINERVA: It was an accident.
YOUNG DEDE: But who got screwed? Papa, and the rest of us. Before that night, El
Jefe looked at us with kind eyes.
MINERVA: That’s what you want?
YOUNG DEDE: He never bothered us. We were fine. The only reason he invited you to
that party is because he wanted to have his way with you.
PATRIA: I didn’t come here for this. Come on, Mate.
YOUNG DEDE: You’re such a revolutionary, eh? Running around here and there with
your backpacks and weapons and little assassination games. But I don’t see you in the
line of fire. Always in the back.
MINERVA: You have no idea-
YOUNG DEDE: Letting the other group take the lead with this and that. Brave with
words, that’s all you are.
MINERVA: Braver than you, sitting here, looking out the window.
69
YOUNG DEDE: How could you say such a thing?
MINERVA: What are you doing, Dede? Explain it to me. What are you doing while
we’re-
YOUNG DEDE: …Minerva…look, I do what I can, you know…I take care of my children
and of your children and everything else. I do nothing but try to keep things together.
Not everybody can go fight and put themselves in harm’s… every day, this place gets
worse. You can barely walk down the street without… I can’t…I can’t…
MINERVA: Risk being with us?
YOUNG DEDE: It’s not that.
MINERVA: Then, help us. Be with us. We only want you to help us try to get this poor
country out of all of this shit… We can be together again. It’s been such a long time,
mujer.
DEDE: …
A moment. Dede (Younger) turns away. Minerva looks at her.
A moment. Minerva and Maria Teresa exit.
PATRIA: If you change your mind…you know where to find us.
Patria exits. Dede (Younger) remains alone for a moment.
Dede (Older) sees Young Dede across time.
OLD DEDE: A hollow silence
Fills her being.
She turns on the radio.
As tears stain her cheeks.
An electric sea is her night’s companion
In its current, a voice is heard,
faraway,
A voice that makes her tremble.
A voice that sounded so familiar
70
DJ is now in full view, as Lio Morales. He speaks on the radio. Late night. With a sense
of intimacy and urgency. No grandstanding.
DJ as LIO MORALES (on the radio): Listen, comrades,
we will tell the imperialists, we will tell them,
that we, the masses will no longer stand to be oppressed;
our islands, our countries,
will no longer be milked, like goats, for their economic gain.
The proletariat, the lumpen class, must rise,
And in so doing, we will, we will inherit the riches of this beautiful earth,
For it is ours, and it has always been ours.
Let this be clear, comrades, the revolution is here. The revolution is now.
OLD DEDE: It was Lio,
Dede (Younger) and Dede (Older) speak across time.
YOUNG DEDE: Lio Morales. It’d been such a long time since I’d heard his voice.
OLD DEDE: I barely recognized it. He used such different words now.
DJ as LIO: Let this be clear, comrades,
we will not let the oppressors dictate how we must live
Or how we should dream.
Our lives are in our hands, comrades.
The masses are not a machine, but rather one, one army
Revolution is the future, our future!
OLD DEDE: Lio Morales was on a pirate station, and I thought
YOUNG DEDE: Why don’t I do something?
OLD DEDE: Why don’t I dare?
YOUNG DEDE: Jaimito said, if you go to a meeting, I’ll leave you. And I thought,
OLD DEDE: I have to go. I have to be at a meeting. See for myself.
71
YOUNG DEDE: A week later, Trujillo’s secret police burned down Patria’s house. And
then Mate and Minerva were arrested…
OLD DEDE: And I was, left, waiting.
72
Scene 21.
1960. Mate and Minerva are in prison in the town of La Victoria.
MARIA TERESA: Dark.
MINERVA: They keep us in the…
MARIA TERESA: And then suddenly
MINERVA: Lights.
Breath.
MARIA TERESA: There are twenty-four women
MINERVA: Their voices pierce the…
MARIA TERESA: Some, like us.
MINERVA: Some, criminals.
MARIA TERESA: Like us?
MINERVA: I don’t want to think…
Breath.
MARIA TERESA: Look out the window
MINERVA: Try to glean what’s…
MARIA TERESA: Outside.
MINERVA: Rain, sometimes
MARIA TERESA: Hot, muddy
MINERVA: Like the dance that day when…
MARIA TERESA: And then, screams
MINERVA: From some other…another building
MARIA TERESA: Another building where there’s a room known as La Cuarenta
MINERVA: Where they torture
73
Breath.
MARIA TERESA: Please. No.
MARIA TERESA: Be strong. … Mate?
MARIA TERESA: Will they take you today?
MINERVA: How many questions?
MARIA TERESA: Try not to think.
MINERVA: Don’t answer.
MARIA TERESA: And if the guard?
MINERVA: If the guard, the one they call la tortuga, wants,
MARIA TERESA: we won’t give.
MINERVA: If la Tortuga wants…
Fuck la Tortuga.
Breath.
MINERVA: Don’t cry.
MARIA TERESA: And I
MINERVA: Pray.
MARIA TERESA: Prayers are not allowed.
MINERVA: I call to God.
MARIA TERESA: Silence.
MINERVA: In a room with no sound, days and days.
Breath.
MARIA TERESA: I draw in the diary, the diary in my mind
Projection: drawing of the jail cell
1960. From here to here: four steps
74
Projection: drawing of a line
From here to here: a hole to shit in
Projection: drawing of a circle in the ground
From here to here: a wall
Projection: drawing of a wall
From here to here:
A blank page. A moment.
“Muevete, (Ocean song/Prison song) (reprise)”
MINERVA (sings): Muevete, mi niña, muévete.
MARIA TERESA (sings): Muevete, al despertar.
MINERVA, MARIA TERESA (AND VOICES OF OTHER WOMEN IMPRISONED): Muevete, mi niña, muevate
MARIA TERESA (sings): Lanzate al puro mar.
MARIA TERESA & VOICES OF OTHER WOMEN IMPRISONED:
Muevete, mi niña, muévete
Muevete al despertar
Muevete, mi niña, muévete
MINERVA & VOICES OF OTHER WOMEN IMPRISONED: Lanza un desafio
ALL: A ellos
Que nos quieren matar.
Lanza un desafio.
Contra ellos
Que nos quieren-
They are interrupted by a metallic sound. Shiver. Silence.
MINERVA: can’t hear you.
MARIA TERESA: right here.
75
MINERVA: Tell me a story about cute movie stars and their amazing smiles.
MARIA TERESA: don’t remember.
MINERVA: Red shoes and Vanidades.
MARIA TERESA: don’t remember.
Breath.
MINERVA: This was when…
MARIA TERESA: Don’t sleep.
MINERVA: This was when…
MARIA TERESA: I’m stripped.
MINERVA: can’t remember.
MARIA TERESA: I won’t say anything, not even if…
MINERVA: They tie me down.
MARIA TERESA: And let electricity run through…
MINERVA: Mate? … Mate?
Projection: word crossed out Mate
MARIA TERESA: …
Song is heard, faintly, sung by the women in prison.
VOICES OF WOMEN IMPRISONED (VO, sung): Muevete, mi niña, muévete.
Muevete, al despertar.
Muevete, mi niña, muevate
A moment. Across time, Minerva and Mate look at Dede (Older), who is seen through
and out of the sound of the voices of the women.
MINERVA: Your sentence is:
MARIA TERESA: Look out the window.
76
Scene 22.
Time shifts to the present.
OLD DEDE: Look out the window. That was all I could do. Look out the window,
imagine another life, another time, and watch the country move this way and that, while
El Jefe held on fast tightening the reins around the country more and more.
Desgraciado. … Poor Patria.
In the past, Patria is seen with her sewing basket.
The months Mate and Minerva were in jail, all she did was pray and pray and try to find
a way to get my sisters out of there. She’d send them little notes inside packages of
candy and food. She’d ask anyone she could for help. Both of us, waiting and waiting.
Until, finally, the Organization of American States sent inspectors to the prison. And
Mate was able to tell them what she’d been through and what other women in La
Cuarenta, in that prison, in that torture chamber, had gone through
But even with their release, they were imprisoned. They were under house arrest.
Couldn’t go anywhere. There was always someone watching. And their husbands? Still
in prison. There would be no salvation for them.
You’ll write about all of this, won’t you? You’ll make sure the story, our story, gets told?
AMERICAN WOMAN (is revealed, as if listening this whole time): I’ll do what I can.
OLD DEDE: More than that. You have to do more than that.
AMERICAN WOMAN: Do~na Dede, I will do my best to-
OLD DEDE: Writers. Writers are all that we have.
AMERICAN WOMAN: There are other-
OLD DEDE: No. No no no no. Writers are all, all that we have. I didn’t use to think that
back then, when I was young, but now, now that I’m a viejita…
One day, we will all go away, be gone from this world, dust, ashes, but the stories, our
stories, what’s in our books, even the lost books, the ones forgotten somewhere in
some old trunk, will be left.
And the young people, like you, coming up and into the world, they will read these
books, or find them in some hidden library, and they will learn, they will learn who we
were. And they’ll remember. They’ll remember. Witnesses. That’s all we are: witnesses
to and of history, truth, memory.
77
Thirty-one years, thirty-one long years El Jefe was in power…
What did I do? All that time?
AMERICAN WOMAN: You were a good sister.
78
Scene 23.
1960. Minerva at home under house arrest. She is not well, suffering from PTSD. A
small cup of tea at her side. Mate sits with her. Patria sits, knitting.
MINERVA: So hot.
PATRIA: They said it might rain.
MARIA TERESA: Who said?
PATRIA: Neighbor.
MINERVA: Like everything’s sticking to me.
PATRIA: Drink some tea.
MINERVA: What for?
PATRIA: For your stomach. To get better.
MINERVA: Doesn’t matter anyway.
PATRIA: Of course it matters. You’re here. You’re both here.
MINERVA: And? What can we do?
PATRIA: …
MINERVA: What can we do, Patria?
PATRIA: We’ll go to church tomorrow.
MINERVA: Church and jail. Our only destinations.
MARIA TERESA: It’s what they allow us.
YOUNG DEDE (enters, cutting stems off of flowers to put in a vase): At least you can go
somewhere. Think of all those other people who…
MINERVA: I don’t even know what’s happening in the world. Might as well have stayed
in prison.
YOUNG DEDE: Don’t say that, please.
MINERVA: It’s what I feel.
PATRIA: Now. Now. At least we’ve each other.
79
MINERVA: The valiant butterflies? All we did, and what? Our husbands in jail, and the
country is the same as always.
PATRIA: Not the same.
MINERVA: How would you know? Are we allowed any news?
YOUNG DEDE: Those men the other day were distributing leaflets…
MINERVA: And all of them were arrested. Like I said: the same as…
A moment.
YOUNG DEDE: (pricks herself accidently with a thorn from a rose): Ay. Maldita flor.
PATRIA: Leave that now.
YOUNG DEDE: We need…
MINERVA: And El Jefe right there, year after year…
PATRIA: Maybe one day.
MARIA TERESA: When we’re dead, maybe.
YOUNG DEDE: Mate.
MARIA TERESA: I dream about it sometimes. I look down and see an open coffin filled
with blouses and dresses and shoes…
YOUNG DEDE: A nightmare, that’s all.
MARIA TERESA: And then, I see our husbands, inside the coffin, and I feel as if I’m
already…
PATRIA: We have to try to…
MINERVA: (sings) Muevete, mi nina, muevate.
MARIA TERESA: (sings) Muevete al despertar.
MINERVA (sings): Muevete, mi ni~na, muévete…
YOUNG DEDE: …What’s that?
MINERVA: A song.
PATRIA: I don’t know it.
80
MINERVA: It’s a song we made up.
A moment.
YOUNG DEDE: A little more tea?
MINERVA: I don’t want anymore.
YOUNG DEDE: You have to eat, drink.
MINERVA: I’m not hungry.
YOUNG DEDE: You can’t go on like this. You’ll get sick.
MINERVA: So?
YOUNG DEDE: What do you mean, “so?” We’re here, right? We’re sisters. You
suffered enough in that cursed jail to go around like this without any will or spirit or
anything. I won’t let you get sick.
MINERVA: (a gesture of affection towards Dede) Later, later, I’ll have a bit more.
YOUNG DEDE: You will. I’ll make sure of it.
PATRIA: Both of you there in that place day after day, and us, out here, without knowing
anything, without being able to do almost anything.
YOUNG DEDE: We did what we could. … Wretched sonofa-
Dede (younger) won’t let herself finish the phrase, out of habit or perhaps a kind of
modesty. The sisters laugh. She does as well.
PATRIA: There. There.
MINERVA: “History will absolve us”
YOUNG DEDE: What’s that?
MARIA TERESA: Fidel Castro. A line from one of his speeches.
YOUNG DEDE: What do I care about him? Is he going to come here and fix things in
this country? No, no… The only “history” I see here is that you have to get better, get
back your fighting spirit and carry on.
MINERVA: Fight the big fight?
81
PATRIA: We have to do something to keep going. We can’t let our whole world fall apart. They already transferred our husbands to another jail, even further away (than the one before).
MINERVA: Puerto Plata.
PATRIA: If they keep on like that, one day they’ll send them God knows where.
MARIA TERESA: We should go.
YOUNG DEDE: Ay, I don’t know, it’s so far, niña. You know what the roads are like up there? You should stay here.
MARIA TERESA: Doing what, epinando chichauguas?2
PATRIA: They said we could visit them there, in Puerto Plata. If we go, at least we’d be doing something useful with our time.
MINERVA: I don’t want to go anywhere.
PATRIA: We can’t just sit on our hands.
MINERVA: Why not? Why do we have to be the famous Butterflies, after all? We’ve spent our entire lives running and running, fighting and fighting…
YOUNG DEDE: …Some flowers, a little flan… we’ll take things one step at a time. At least we can see each other. Ay, that’s worth its weight in gold. I’ll make you a little flan with a little rum and coconut: you’ll see.
MINERVA: Dede, you don’t have to stay. We can manage.
YOUNG DEDE: But it’s almost curfew. Between one thing and another, I won’t have time to go back home now.
MARIA TERESA: You’re going to make with rum? Really?
YOUNG DEDE: Naturally.
MARIA TERESA: I’ll help you, then.
YOUNG DEDE: Epa. That’s the spirit.
PATRIA: Oye, but not with too much rum, because then it doesn’t taste good.
YOUNG DEDE: (lightly teasing) You’re going to get in the middle of everything now?
PATRIA: Like always.
2 Translation: flying kites?
82
MARIA TERESA: Leave the kitchen to me.
YOUNG DEDE: All of us! Come on.’
Maria Teresa and Patria go within.
YOUNG DEDE: …Come on, mujer.
MINERVA: I want to rest a bit.
YOUNG DEDE: …Well…
Dede (Younger) walks away. Minerva closes her eyes and rests.
Time shift. Halfway between real time and hallucination. Minerva is half-asleep.
TRUJILLO appears. He approaches.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Sleeping, my beauty?
MINERVA: What are you-?
DJ as TRUJILLO: I’ve come to see the famous butterfly. You’re almost as famous as I
am. I told you once: we’re destined for each other. It’s a shame you didn’t take
advantage of my admiration for you.
MINERVA: I never admired you, Generalisimo.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Rafael. Please.
MINERVA: I have nothing to say to you.
DJ as TRUJILLO: I can make your life much easier. All you have to do is apologize.
MINERVA: I don’t understand.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Maybe you’ll never understand. Maybe we’ll always just be stars
orbiting around each other forever. You know, I was expecting you’d be…
MINERVA: Beaten down? Skin and bone? Is that what you want? I’ll never let you see
me like that.
DJ as TRUJILLO: You misunderstand me.
MINERVA: In what way do I misunderstand you, Generalisimo? In what hour and
minute of my existence out of jail, in jail, in this prison disguised as a house, have I ever
misunderstood you? When you made me wait three weeks while my father was dying in
83
prison all of those years ago? Was that a misunderstanding? I’ve never misunderstood
you, sir. Ever.
A moment.
DJ as TRUJILLO: Where’d you come from, Minerva, goddess of wisdom?
MINERVA: From the sea. You know all too well. Goddesses rise up from the sea and
devour human beings.
DJ as TRUJILLO: …Feel powerful, my goddess? Well, well…in time, you’ll see…where
all that power will be.
DJ as Trujillo walks away.
84
Scene 24.
In present time, Dede (Older) and Dede (Younger) looks back to November 25, 1960,
the day her sisters went to Puerto Plata prison.
OLD DEDE: November 25, 1960. Patria, Minerva, Maria Teresa and their dedicated
chauffer Rufino, a simple man, readied to go to Puerto Plata to visit their husbands in
jail.
YOUNG DEDE: I’d stayed with them the night before.
OLD DEDE: A storm loomed on the horizon, and the Jeep in which they were going to
travel was not in good condition.
YOUNG DEDE: I said: Don’t go. They said: You can come with us.
OLD DEDE: But I said: No. No. The weather’s too unpredictable. It’s not a good day to
go on a trip.
YOUNG DEDE: I’ll stay here, locked up in the house, dying of worry thinking about you.
OLD DEDE: They laughed. Oh, that Dede, always so melodramatic!
YOUNG DEDE: I was about to cry.
OLD DEDE: (when) Minerva came up to me and kissed me on the forehead and said
“We’ll be all right.”
YOUNG DEDE: Patria, Minerva, Maria Teresa, Rufino: I never saw them again.
OLD DEDE: The sisters look up at the sky. Rain clouds are on the horizon.
They become frightened for a second, but then they carry on.
Maria Teresa fixes her hair. Patria adjusts her skirt.
Minerva looks at the garden and sees a little jar, forgotten, among the flowers.
The memory of an afternoon when her sisters played freely, happily, comes back to her.
She stops for a moment. A slight smile lingers on her lips.
Time shifts to 1960. Heading to Puerto Plata prison. Projection: miles and miles of lone
country road. Inside the jeep:
85
PATRIA: Puerto Plata!
MARIA TERESA (chants): Let’s go to Puerto Plata, let’s go Puerto Plata.
PATRIA: Like they’re little girls again.
MINERVA & MARIA TERESA (chanting along): Lovely Puerto Plata, lovely Puerto
Plata.
PATRIA: What am I going to do with these girls?
DJ as RUFINO (amiable, joking): Nothing, ma’am. They’re hopeless.
MARIA TERESA & MINERVA (chanting, big finale): Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go to Puerto
Plata!
PATRIA: …That’s not how the song goes.
MINERVA: I know. I made it up.
PATRIA: Like a writer, eh?
A moment.
PATRIA: Ay, It’s so dark, Rufino.
DJ as RUFINO: Rain, ma’am. That’s what they said.
MARIA TERESA: Hurricane season.
PATRIA: The rain will pass. We have to pray that the…
DJ as RUFINO: I’ll be careful on the road. I promise.
MINERVA: We don’t want what happened last time to happen again, Rufino.
DJ as RUFINO: You and me both, ma’am. That was quite a scare.
PATRIA: Thank you, Rufino. For everything. No one else wanted to take us.
DJ as RUFINO: I put myself on the line, because… well, because it isn’t fair what
you’ve…what they…
Brief moment.
MARIA TERESA: What’d they say last time?
86
MINERVA: They were only going to be in this jail a few more months, and then they
were getting transferred somewhere else.
PATRIA: All this nonsense…moving prisoners here and there.
DJ as RUFINO (with irony): El Jefe knows what he does.
MINERVA: You really believe that?
DJ as RUFINO: I have to, ma’am. What else can I do?
MARIA TERESA: Oye, do you think we can stop in town for a bit?
PATRIA: Maria Teresa!.
MARIA TERESA: We should buy something, a new purse or… We should look nice so
that when our husbands see us, they feel some hope, at least.
MINERVA: What kind of purse?
MARIA TERESA: Red patent leather.
PATRIA: Not for me.
MINERVA: I wouldn’t mind a nice briefcase.
PATRIA: Thinking of finally becoming a lawyer?
MINERVA: I am a lawyer.
MARIA TERESA: …Is there a radio in this jeep?
DJ as RUFINO: No, se~nora.
MINERVA: No news of the world.
DJ as RUFINO: A vece’ e’ mejor no saber n’a de n’a: not to know anything. Sleep better
at night, you know.
MINERVA: Sleep and sleep, that’s all we do in this country
DJ as RUFINO: Bueno, eso e’ verdad. los que duermen mucho, pierden el tren.
MARIA TERESA: What’s that?
DJ as RUFINO: What mi mai used to say sometimes: those who sleep too much, miss
their train and miss out on everything.
87
They laugh.
MINERVA: …What’s that?
PATRIA: What?
MINERVA: Up ahead.
MARIA TERESA: I don’t see anything.
MINERVA: Look.
PATRIA: Where?
MINERVA: There.
A constellation of butterflies in the air. Blue, green, orange. Brilliant light. Silence.
88
Scene 25
In suspended time, the sisters speak.
MINERVA: A truck.
PATRIA: Rufino, just keep going. Keep going.
MINERVA: …And then a car blocked the road. .
MARIA TERESA: Come on, get out. This way, they said. Towards the fields of cane.
MINERVA: They walked a bit when
PATRIA: I ran and ran, and shouted. “Someone, dear God, please tell the Mirabal family
they’re going to kill us.”
MINERVA: There were five men.
PATRIA: They took turns beating us.
MARIA TERESA: They tried to cut my braids.
MINERVA: I tried to run.
PATRIA: But they wouldn’t let us.
MARIA TERESA: They led each of us to separate sides of the fields. The smell of rain
and sugar cane drenched our senses.
MINERVA: Mate, where are you?
MARIA TERESA: Minerva, where are you?
MINERVA: Patria, where are you?
PATRIA: They clubbed me to death.
MINERVA: With wooden batons.
PATRIA: Split.
MINERVA: Bleeding.
89
MARIA TERESA: They cut me open in the fields of cane.
A moment. DJ as RUFINO steps forward, in the afterlife.
DJ as RUFINO: (looking at the ground, as if from high up)
That’s my arm. And there, that’s my leg.
And there, among the fields, a little medal, the guardian angel.
Mi mai, mi mama, gave it to me. So I’d be protected always.
And there, it was left, with the rest of my body.
DJ as Rufino now speaks to the American Woman, as witness to story.
Why did they kill me?
Trujillo’s men didn’t want anyone left alive to tell the story.
I’m not a hero.
What I did that day… anyone else would have done.
They wanted to see their husbands. They missed them.
I was the driver. That’s all.
90
Scene 26
Time shifts to the present.
OLD DEDE: And then silence.
And four pine boxes are put in a car and buried in the earth.
A necklace.
A shoe.
A red patent leather strap.
An earring.
Projections of still images of the objects, faded from time, are seen.
A moment.
OLD DEDE: That’s all that’s left.
AMERICAN WOMAN: When your sisters…when my parents heard that they had… that
Trujillo’s men had… there was all this shouting in the house. My parents were so angry.
I’d never seen them like that. I wanted to do something, stop them from being so... it
was a kind of rage I didn’t understand, because, of course, it was the rage of NOT being
able to do something.… I remember then thinking that one day I’d… but now I don’t
know where to even… how I can even…
OLD DEDE: …It’s all inside us. Everything. The whole world.
And memories, too.
Listening to our memories.
AMERICAN WOMAN: writing them?
OLD DEDE: and listening again.
AMERICAN WOMAN (as if recalling): A song.
OLD DEDE: A flower.
AMERICAN WOMAN: A jar filled with butterflies.
91
OLD DEDE: Red, purple, blue…
A moment.
AMERICAN WOMAN: What’s that?
OLD DEDE: Hmm?
AMERICAN WOMAN: Like a…strange light…
(a vision): …Patria, Minerva, Maria Teresa…
They’re here.
OLD DEDE: They’re always here. They’re always alive in the garden.
92
Coda
Continuous from previous. Voices are heard: the actors who played Maria Teresa,
Patria, Minerva walk in one by one…during the song, they are joined by Old Dede,
American Woman. The division of singing parts is open to the discretion of the
arranger/composer.
“The Flowers of Santo Domingo/In the Sanctuary of Dreams”
IN THE SANCTUARY OF OUR DREAMS
WE RISE AND RISE AND RISE
THE FLOWERS OF SANTO DOMINGO
YOUNG WOMEN WHO WEEP AND SHOUT
FOR THEIR ISLAND
A SHINING LIGHT
UPON OUR FLIGHT
ACROSS TIME AND DISTANCE
MARKS A STORM -
THE BRILLIANT FIRES
OF OUR BLOODY RESISTANCE.
FOR IF THE WAVE
OF PASSION IS NOT INVOKED
AND DOES NOT STIR AMONGST US
A BURNING SCORE
OF THOUSANDS MORE
WILL STEAL AGAINST THE HORIZON:
A SEA OF LOSS AND DORMANT HOPES
93
FORGOTTEN IN THE STREAM
SO, IN THE SANCTUARY OF OUR DREAMS
WE RISE
IN THE SANCTUARY OF OUR DREAMS
WE RISE
THE FLOWERS OF SANTO DOMINGO
THE FLOWERS OF SANTO DOMINGO
The DJ is seen in the background. He lights three candles, one at a time. The American
woman begins to write in her journal – the beginning of her novel. Lights fade until for a
moment we only see the illuminated candles, and then darkness.
End of play