MONICA SANCHEZ
DRAMATISTA
LOS DREAMERS
Scoobi and her mother, Petra place the folded items into the laundry baskets. Scoobi brings her computer to the table and types furiously. Petra scrutinizes her.
SCOOBIE
What?
Petra shrugs; keeps observing.
Petra gets up and walks around the house quietly as though she is looking for something...or someone. Scoobi pretends not to notice. Petra returns to the table.
PETRA
He’s gone, isn’t he?
SCOOBI
Who?
PETRA
...Roko.
SCOOBI
Yes, mom. He’s dead, remember?
Petra takes in a giant breath and lets it out.
PETRA
Que descanse en paz Roquito.
SCOOBI
Yup. Somebody around here might as well get some peace.
PETRA
It was time. Time you both let go.
SCOOBI
Rrrrright.
PETRA
Qué qué??
SCOOBI
Nothing.
PETRA
Uh-uh, cómo qué, “rrrrrrrright”?
SCOOBI
Never mind!!
PETRA
Say it. No!Spit it out! NOW!
SCOOBI
FINE!!
When are you gonna “let go”?!
PETRA
Let go of what?!
SCOOBI
Let go of your own ghost! You don’t do anything but work work work! You coulda had a
companion! And I coulda had a father ...figure--but you’re such a righteous little mojada-- staying faithful to your fucking ghost of a revolutionary, while you pimp me out to have the life you wanted for yourself, but were too scared to live--
Petra slaps her. Beat.
SCOOBI
There! There it is! Finally! That’s all you got?! No wonder you’re revolution failed.
Petra breathes deep. She produces the tequila and two glasses.
PETRA
Sit.
SCOOBI
Wow, great parenting. When the going gets tough, pull out the booze!
Petra makes an offering, pours and sips. A deafeningly quiet quells Scoobi.
Petra pushes the glass toward Scoobi.
Scoobi pounds it. Petra pours her another.
Scoobi sips.
PETRA (calm)
My revolution did not fail. My ‘revolution,’ she just grew up. Salud.
You’re right, the ghosts are still here, but not for me, you’re the draw. The ancestors are counting on you.
SCOOBI
I didn’t ask for this! Everything is so hard because you chickened out! What if you had
stayed? What if we had stayed? My father sacrificed his life, he was a hero, and then you just checked out?
PETRA
Your father was a pendejo....Okay maybe not a a pendejo, but a very very handsome macho idealist, and now we know better... we always did.
SCOOBI
...?
PETRA
Que chinga’o. “Honor,” “revenge,” “violence,” it’s all a bunch of overcompensating
mierda so we don’t have be accountable, so we don’t have to feel: “Whoever kills the most is the winner?!” No imagination.
SCOOBI
You are such a hypocrite—
PETRA
Am I? ...No, I don’t think so. Even in the beginning, the gun was a last resort and we knew
it was transitional. We knew violence cannot sustain peace—
SCOOBI
Right. What about that “certain dose of bullets”?
PETRA
Exactly. We used a certain dose of bullets. And then it was time for literacy, and co-ops,
and art and music and poetry, and us, the women. It’s our time to offer another way. The compañeros in the mountains, they know it. And now it’s time they know it here.