JOSE: (His voice is dry and feverish) Nobody knows about it, Chunga, but something in my life changed that night. (Hits himself on the head.) I can still see it all, as if it were happening now. Everything you said and everything Meche said — I remember it all so very clearly. When you took her by the arm and led her over there, to your room, my heart was beating so hard, I thought it would leap out of my chest. (Takes LA CHUNGA’s hand to his chest.) Here, feel it now. See how strongly it’s beating. As if it were bursting to get out. That’s what happens, whenever I think of the two of you up there.
(LA CHUNGA’s lips move as if she were saying something. JOSE leans over in an attempt to hear what it is, but regrets it immediately and draws back. For a few moments LA CHUNGA carries on mouthing the same words in silence. When she finally articulates, her voice is strangely subdued.)
LA CHUNGA: You’re a wanker, José.
JOSE: (Anxiously, impatiently, pointing towards the little room) Please, please, tell me, Chunguita. What happened? What was it like?
LA CHUNGA: (Lecturing him, but not severely — as if to a naughty child) It’s not real women you like, José. Not women of flesh and blood, at least. The ones you really like are the ones you keep up here, in your mind — (Touching his head as if caressing it) — but they’re only memories, fantasies, ghosts from the past that live in your imagination, they don’t really exist. Am I right, José?
JOSE: (Trying to make LA CHUNGA get up out of her rocking chair; getting more and more excited) You took her by the arm, and you started to lead her over there. Slowly you began to climb the staircase, and you never let go of her arm for a single moment. Did you squeeze it? Did you fondle it?
(LA CHUNGA gets up and JOSE takes her place in the rocking chair. He tilts it — so that he can see better. LA CHUNGA pours a glass of vermouth, goes up the staircase and into the little room which is now lit with a reddish light. MECHE is there.)
The voyeur’s dream
MECHE: (With a nervous little laugh) So now what happens? What’s the game, Chunga?
(The cold woman of the previous scenes suddenly seems charged with life and sensuality.)
LA CHUNGA: It’s not a game. I’ve paid three thousand sols for you. You’re mine for the rest of the night.
MECHE: (Defiantly) Do you mean I’m your slave?
LA CHUNGA: For a few hours, at least. (handling her the glass) Here. It’ll calm your nerves.
(MECHE grasps the glass and takes a gulp.)
MECHE: Do you think I’m nervous? Well, you’re wrong. I’m not afraid of you. I’m doing this for Josefino. If I wanted to, I could push you aside and run out that door.
(LA CHUNGA sits on the bed.)
LA CHUNGA: But you won’t. You said you’d obey me, and you’re a woman of your word, I’m sure. Besides, you’re just dying of curiosity, aren’t you?
MECHE: (Finishing the glass) Do you honestly think you’re going to get me drunk on two vermouths? Don’t kid yourself. I’ve got a strong head for drink. I can go on all night without getting in the least bit tipsy. I can hold even more than Josefino.
(Pause.)
LA CHUNGA: Do to me what you do to him when you want to excite him.
MECHE: (With the same nervous little laugh) I can’t. You’re a woman. You’re Chunga.
LA CHUNGA: (Coaxing and at the same time peremptory) No. I am Josefino. Do to me what you do to him.
(Soft tropical music — boleros by Leo Marini or Los Panchos — can be heard in the distance. It conjures up images of couples dancing close, in a place full of smoke and alcohol. MECHE starts to undress, slowly, and rather awkwardly. Her voice seems forced, and unrelaxed.)
MECHE: You want to see me undress? Slowly, like this? This is how he likes it. Do you think I’m pretty? Do you like my legs? My breasts? I’ve got a nice firm body, look. No moles, no pimples, no flab. None of those things that make people so ugly.
(She has stripped down to her petticoat. She feels a little faint. She screws up her face.)
I can’t, Chunga. You’re not him. I can’t believe what I’m doing or what I’m saying. I feel stupid, all this seems so unreal to me, so ….
(She lets herself fall on the bed and stays there, face down, in a state of confusion; she is on the point of tears, but manages to restrain herself. LA CHUNGA gets up and sits beside her. She acts now with great sensitivity, as if moved by MECHE’s discomfort.)
LA CHUNGA: The truth is, I admire you for being here. You surprised me, you know? I didn’t think you would accept. (Smoothes MECHE’s hair.) Do you love Josefino that much?
MECHE: (Her voice a whisper) Yes, I love him. (Pause.) But I don’t think I did it just for him. But because of what you said too. I was curious. (Turns to look at LA CHUNGA.) You gave him three thousand sols. That’s a lot of money.
LA CHUNGA: (Passing her hand over MECHE’s face, drying nonexistent tears) You’re worth more than that.
(A hint of flirtatiousness becomes apparent through MECHE’s resentment and embarrassment.)
MECHE: Do you really like me, Chunga?
LA CHUNGA: You know very well I do. Or perhaps you didn’t realize?
MECHE: Yes, I did. No other woman has ever looked at me like you did. You made me feel … so strange.
(LA CHUNGA puts her hand round MECHE’s shoulders and draws her to her. Kisses her. MECHE passively allows herself to be kissed. When they separate MECHE gives a false little laugh.)
LA CHUNGA: You’re laughing — so it can’t have been that dreadful.
MECHE: How long have you been like this? I mean, have you always been …? Have you always liked women?
LA CHUNGA: I don’t like women. I like you.
(She embraces her and kisses her. MECHE lets herself be kissed, but does not respond to LA CHUNGA’s caresses. LA CHUNGA gently draws her face round and, still caressing her, orders her.) Open your mouth, slave.
(MECHE giggles nervously, and parts her lips. LA CHUNGA gives her a long kiss and this time MECHE raises her arm and puts it around LA CHUNGA’s neck.)
That’s it. I thought you didn’t know how to kiss. (Sarcastically) Did you see little stars?
MECHE: (Laughing) Don’t make fun of me.
LA CHUNGA: (Holding her in her arms) I’m not making fun of you. I want you to enjoy yourself tonight — more than you’ve ever enjoyed anything with that pimp.
MECHE: He’s not a pimp! Don’t say that word. He’s in love with me. We may be getting married.