Interlude of THE REBELLIOUS MAID By Ben Gavarrë

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Interlude of THE REBELLIOUS MAID

By Ben Gavarrê

Contact bengavarre@gmail.com

Characters:

THE WIFE, gossipy, demanding, insufferable.

THE HUSBAND, lazy, henpecked, oaf, lame.

THE REBELLIOUS MAID, that is, a servant, REBELLIOUS, but also clever, sly, impossible, lame, stinky.

The action takes place in the home and inn "BOTANAS Y ENTREMESES," where The Wife and The Husband live and work. The play is reminiscent of the brief Spanish theatrical works from the time of Cervantes, but of course it only alludes to that era with a few elements. The costumes do not need to be reconstructions of the period, but also only suggested, with traits of our modern days and our customs, especially those related to the treatment of cleaning employees in our homes, and, on the other hand, their survival strategies, which make their "patrons'" lives impossible. For, as in any comedy, each person has their own vices of character.

The language tries to play with the style of Cervantine Spanish, but of course it is nothing more than a recreation with some modern idioms, and some words that are useless to look up in the dictionary. A playful sense is sought with them.

At the beginning of the play, The Husband is sprawled on some chairs next to one of the tables for the patrons. He is listening to music on an iPod or similar device, with his headphones. He scratches his belly or whatever itches, without shame. He puts his hand in his nose, inspects what he's obtained, without it affecting his work of "doing nothing," a task he achieves with great efficiency.

The Wife arrives, very excited, shouting, bossy, scandalous… She brings a piece of news that makes her indolent husband jump up and listen, because it's impossible, in fact, not to.

WIFE: The new one is coming, she's coming, she's on her way!

HUSBAND: (Jumping up) No! Already?... The heaven has heard us!

WIFE: Blessed be the Lord!

HUSBAND: (Giving instructions, trying to be the man of the house) I must warn you of one thing, wife...

WIFE: You wish to warn me of something? Let's not start fighting, for you already know how that goes for you...

HUSBAND: (Conciliatory) It's not about that, no, may the heaven of a thousand and one mix-ups save me. Listen. About the New One... Once she's present like a hog, treat her with a soft hand, with courtesy, so that she feels not like the maid she will be, but like a sweet princess whom we gladly receive in our humble inn.

WIFE: (Indignant) What are you saying, Husband? A maid is a maid, and that's that.

HUSBAND: (Loses the little patience he had) Ah, yes, I see, I understand... It dawns on me! Now I know... It's all so clear... (Before his wife's withering look, he continues) This is why Jovita left us... and Tota... and Proserpina... and Elba Esther... and Teresita and Angiosperma and Martita... You humiliated them, you treated them like foul kitchen rags and of course, they felt belittled in their most intimate being. And the worst wasn't that, for what do I care, but that we, then, had to clean the pans, scrub the grime from the ceilings, attend to the clientele... Well, not even Don Pepe, the kitchen "pinche," lasted more than two days with us.

WIFE: (Making things clear) One moment, Husband, if the only one here who looks like a kitchen boy and waitress and cook is me, for I must do a thousand tasks that do not marry with my high condition: saffron the paella; resurrect the pozole, so it doesn't sour; stuff the food scraps. I have to clean the tables, serve plates, smile when I don't feel like it, receive pinches from the green-tailed clients...

HUSBAND: Collect the tip moneys...

WIFE: Only to lose them later because we're out of napkins and toothpicks and chilies and lemons and garlic and onions.

HUSBAND: And may the devil saturate your mouth, for you do not stop, Woman.

WIFE: And how can I stop? While I break my back, you scratch your mustache and scratch your belly and scratch what shame and my good upbringing force me to forget.

HUSBAND: Be quiet! For the prospect is approaching, behold, she comes.

The new servant, THE REBELLIOUS MAID, enters, loaded with two enormous suitcases, "velices," as she calls them, or they can be boxes filled with all that she owns in her existence. The spouses watch her come, and comment on her as if she couldn't hear them. Her movement is almost in slow motion, she limps and makes faces as if she were very tired or had a stomachache. Later we will find out that it might be both.

WIFE: (Trying to find a clue on her husband's face, jealous, of course) And why do you say that is her, do you know her?

HUSBAND: (He no longer wants conflicts) No, no, certainly not. I suppose so.

WIFE: And why does she walk like that?

HUSBAND: Ask her.

WIFE: And why is she dressed that way?

HUSBAND: Buy her some clothes.

WIFE: And why does she limp? Is she imitating you?

HUSBAND: More respect, woman. I don't limp.

WIFE: Oh, no?

HUSBAND: One leg is longer, that's all.

WIFE: Yes, yes. (To the Maid, with hypocrisy) May the heaven save us, you come very burdened. Leave the suitcase and welcome, sweet girl, princess of the broom, cherub of paradise...

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: (Crude, malevolent, likable, she talks about the conquests she was able to make, according to her, on the street) Devils, if they only knew the "calafiate" I've suffered. If I've left two "mochachos" waiting for my "regaliz" it's an understatement. Some of them were very well-dressed, but I, very quarrelsome, only let their advances come without climbing onto any of them because I am a Christian and of a good lineage, although I have to earn my bread with jealousy and good command.

HUSBAND: (Patient, pretending not to have understood she was being hit on) Quiet, quiet, beautiful maiden, and leave your "veliz" in a visible place. You must know that before anything happens, you must sign the book of prints and commit to working for a salary that is two "maravedís" without number.

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: (Indolent, insolent, distressed, stomach-sore, with a thousand sweet nothings) Yes, I'll sign, I'll sign... but later. A little while later, ehhh.... Ouch, ouchyyy, Woe is meeeeee, Before, be more accommodating and tell me where the latrine is, the toilet, the wc, or with your permission the crapper, or without permission, because it's a matter of urgency, I tell you, I'm having six "jolino" stomach cramps, and I wouldn't want you to be sullen because of the bad farts that usually accompany such disasters.

WIFE: (Apprehensive, nervous, she turns to look at the petrified and horrified husband) Come, I'll accompany you, for such outbursts can relax one's bad mood and leave us all like a converted Jew's nose.

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: (Suddenly relieved, though with some new signs of a diarrheal emergency) No, no, no. Yes! Yes... (Pause, the couple watches her, she watches herself) No, no, no. No. (Relieved, cynical) The phenomenon has passed, it has passed, but if the case arises, I'll let you know suddenly.

HUSBAND: (Childish, frightened) You promise?

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: (Easygoing) Yes, "de Vero."

WIFE: (Practical, getting to what interests her) Well, let's go quickly to show you the chores you will have to do.

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: (Sly) Step, madam, for I have not come from the "Cerro del Tullido" to hear demands before laying out my own.

HUSBAND: (With eyes wide open) You have demands?

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: (With a gesture of obviousness. She speaks with the full security of being right and being in her rights) Well, yes, it's better to say them by the thousands than to have to suffer the inclemencies of a bad contract. And here's the tale: To start, I must say that my bed should not be soft or springy, for I have left many patrons for less than that.

HUSBAND: But, what about her!...

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: And the pillows should not have embossments or hardness at the corners, for it is well known that such deteriorations harm the bones of the face. Once a week a very gallant young man will come to graze my spirit, a lad who is already becoming a habit for his very wise and great heart.

HUSBAND: Lame and sly!

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: For the twelve o'clock meal I must say that I usually crave two dishes that I want you to prepare in the following way: First, a salad that must be very well adjusted with each and every one of the vegetables free of miasmas and twists. Afterwards, a well-cooked "calafiate," with walnuts and green peas.

HUSBAND: Wouldn't you like a well-skinned pork more?

WIFE: No, no, better a "mastuerzo" broth with garlic sauce.

HUSBAND: Or would you like chicken feet "a la Morales"?

WIFE: Or a helping of kidney with "calafandras"?

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: Maybe, maybe... I don't know...

WIFE: (In the game of mocking the Maid's pretensions, complicit with her husband) ...Perhaps we should prepare an "entremés" for her, don't you think, Husband, and a good appetizer and a glass of white wine, and, I don't know, some snacks too.

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: Yes, yes, for "entremeses" I want two, very Cervantine, with black olives and vinaigrette. For a snack: a wheel of ham very "a la Lope"... And for the wine... just thinking about it gives me the shivers! For it has been a long time since my intestines have been too startled by such alcoholic excesses that I do not even want to tell you, so you do not think that I am a boozer, although I may seem so.

HUSBAND: (Looks at his wife to begin the treatment of head-knocks and ear-pulls, etc., intended for the Maid) I don't know about boozer, but you are very low-class and THE REBELLIOUS MAID. What do you think, wife, if for an "entremés" we give her a "shaken coscorrón"?

WIFE: Well said. And to follow the soup: what about ear-pulls?

HUSBAND: As a main course, a kick. Will you give it to her? Or should we think about dessert first.

WIFE: Ah, well we have many kinds of those: "moquetes," slaps, and delicious pinches of a "jumento" that I swear you'll never forget, my dear.

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: (Ache-ridden from the mistreatment received, she complains, but it's not what worries her most) I would very much like to enjoy them, sirs, all of them, but first tell me where the bathroom is or the latrine, for it seems that the miasmas have come undone again and I don't even want to think about it. Yes. No. Yes... It's coming! A pain like childbirth is killing my guts!... Ouch, I can't stand it!... A doctor, call a doctor for I'm "doing myself!"

HUSBAND: (Extremely disturbed) A doctor, a doctor, may he come, may they call a midwife for this wretched maid is "unsewing herself," she is unsewing herself!...

WIFE: Help, it smells very bad.

HUSBAND: It smells awful! What did you eat, creature?

WIFE: Yuck, dead birds, black crows, rotten dog brains! Guaahhhhhh (About to vomit).

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: Oh, sirs, I'm sorry, I told you, I can't hold it anymore... I couldn't hold it, sorry. (Her body language indicates that she soiled herself).

The Husband: (Disgusted) Oh, my God! She has "unsewn herself"!

THE WIFE: Oh, my God! (Continues with her attempts to vomit).

THE HUSBAND: (Not knowing where to go or what to do) Help, what a stench, call the doctor, the firefighters!... (Decided, he flees) I'd better get out of here.

WIFE: And me too! Aggggggggghhh... (She leaves with a clear indication that she is about to vomit).

THE REBELLIOUS MAID: (Distressed, with her tail between her legs, but always ready to overcome her conflicts) And me?... Well... Does anyone know where the cistern is? No?... A sink? A shower at least? (She complains and drags her leg) The devil, well I'll have to stay like this. It's a shame. They won't hire me, who told me to, why did I eat those things in the street, oh, woe is me! (She turns to look at the audience before leaving the scene) Devil take me, who would have thought: lame and stinky, "joder!"

Blackout

Cd. de México. ® Author: Benjamín Gavarre Silva. SOGEM registered rights.