from The Afterlife Scene One Nightclub Lights come up on the entrance of a night club. Chuy enters in pure happiness. Chuy (To audience): If you’re a regular-looking dude, you got to do what you gotta do. Gotta dress nice, smell good, carry a few dollars in your pocket and don’t be too, too stupid. That is, if you wanna hook up with someone like Rachel, a girl in my English class. Known her since way back. Rachel enters with teenage swagger. She evaluates Chuy as if he’s an object for sale. She straightens out his hair, feels his biceps, and tugs at his shirt to make it right. Rachel: He’s OK. Chuy (disbelief): OK? Only OK? Look at these dimples. Rachel: He could be a little taller. Chuy tiptoes. Chuy: I got another year of growing. Rachel: Captain of a sports team—that would be nice. Chuy: Captain? How ‘bout co-captain of the ping-pong club? Rachel: He’s gotta be funny. Chuy: Funny? Girl, I invented funny. Let me tell you the joke about the bilingual parrot that, that . . . Rachel exits quickly. Chuy (To Rachel): Where you going? I ain’t got to the punch line! (Shouting) See you inside! Chuy shrugs his shoulders. Pounding dance music cuts in as stage revolves, revealing single bathroom stall, door closed but with someone seated on the toilet—we can see a pair of yellow shoes. Chuy enters the restroom; the dance music quiets to a rumble. The sound of a toilet flushing and water dripping from faucet. He waves a hand under his nose, but doesn’t say a word. He goes to the mirror over a basin. The dance music cuts out. Yellow Shoes flushes a second time, comes out of the stall, and looks around, sniffing. Dance music cuts out entirely. Yellow Shoes: This hellhole smells—is it you?
Chuy is taken back by the insult, yet slowly smiles. Chuy: Me? Nah, man. It ain’t me. Probably the plumbing—this place is hecka old. (Chuy looks down at Yellow Shoes’ shoes) Those are different. Slight pause. Yellow Shoes: What’s different? Chuy: Your yellow shoes. Yellow Shoes absorbs what Chuy has said, then becomes aggressive. Yellow Shoes: Different? Chuy: Never seen a pair like that. You get ’em online? Yellow Shoes: What you sayin? Chuy: I’m just sayin’, like, they’re different—good different, you know. Yellow Shoes steps away, staring angrily at Chuy, who returns his gaze to the mirror. Chuy combs his hair, primps. Chuy (To his reflection in the mirror): Is this a pimple? Yellow Shoes (Under his breath): Punk ass fool talkin’ to me like that. Yellow Shoes anger grows. Yellow Shoes (Under his breath): No one talks to me like that. Chuy: Two pimples? I should stay away from chicharrones. And sodas? Got to give ‘em up. (From his pocket, Chuy brings out a pintsized can of aerosol breath freshener and sprays the mist into his mouth, then jokingly gives spurts to his armpits) Ah, nice and cool, like a glacier. (He sprays some in direction of the toilet) Yeah, this place does smell fuchi. Yellow Shoes brings out a knife from his pocket while Chuy continues to primp, unaware of the threatening moment. Yellow Shoes (Under his breath): Who does he think he is? Yellow Shoes quickly moves toward Chuy. Chuy (To mirror): Rachel, like you and me, we got algebra together, U.S. history together, and— Yellow Shoes stabs Chuy, who doesn’t grimace at first, and stabs him a second and third time. Blood begins to spread over his white shirt. Finally, he realizes that he has been stabbed. Chuy: What the—? (Knees buckling, Chuy turns to Yellows Shoes) I don’t know you.
Yellow Shoes: What did you say to me, cabron? Chuy falls to his knees. Chuy: Who are you? Yellow Shoes wipes his knife on Chuy’s shirt. Chuy: It hurts. Yellow Shoes bends down over Chuy. Yellow Shoes: It hurts? You tellin’ me it hurts? (Mockingly) Tell someone who cares. Yellow Shoes exits. Chuy struggles to rise to his feet, then crumples. He struggles once more, then lays down for good, dead. Offstage, voices hauntingly call “Chuy, Chuy, get up, Chuy.” Blackout. Chuy exits. The sound of wind for a few seconds.
Scene Eight Rachel’s Bedroom Light come up on Rachel in pajamas. She’s teary eyed as she speaks on her phone. Rachel (Into phone): I can’t believe it. It’s soooooo not real. He was silly but sweet. And I was gonna meet up with him that night. It’s sooooo strange ’cause we known each other since fifth grade. (Phone buzz as another call comes in) Hold on. (To other caller) You heard? It’s all messed up. I knew him since third grade. He was good at kickball but couldn’t spell worth frijoles. (Phone buzz as yet another call comes in) Wait a sec. (To another caller) Nah, I don’t know when the funeral is. But everyone’s gonna be there. (Nods her head as if agreeing with the caller) Yeah, well, I known him since first grade. The sound of rushing wind. Rachel feigns speaking to caller as Chuy cartwheels onto stage. He spanks his clothes of leaves and rubs his eyes of dust. He is invisible to Rachel. Chuy (To audience): When you’re dead, you got a little extra time on the planet. You get to fly around if you want, check things out. (To himself) So this is what a girl’s bedroom looks like. Wind cuts out and indie Latino pop music cuts in, softly. Chuy (Sniffs the air): Nice. Real nice. Smells better than my cave. And look—stuffed animals, lots of them. (Listens to music) I didn’t know she liked [group that’s playing]. Qué padre. Dances for a few seconds until the music fades out. Rachel (To caller): I gotta figure out what to wear. Chuy: What to wear? Seriously? Try that rack of clothes in your closet. And we met in sixth grade. Rachel (Into phone): You wear black to funerals, right. But how black? And do I have to do my eyelids black, or can I make them blue? Chuy: Glad people be dressing up for my sendoff. Gonna be like a quinceañera the way it sounds, with limos even, maybe with mariachis. Rachel (Into phone): His poor family. I’m soooo sorry for them. I don’t know how my parents would handle it if one of my older brothers got killed. Chuy: You got that right. Gonna be a heavy scene at my house. Family be arriving from all over the valley. Rachel (Into phone): Good at sports, but he didn’t want to go out for teams. He was cool about that. Chuy: Rachel, you lie. You know I was just average at sports. Who you talkin’ to anyway?
Rachel (Into phone): Polite? Hecka polite. Suave. Chuy: Polite! Suave? You don’t remember when I spit a mouthful of soda at you? And how you got me into a monster headlock and ran me into the ground? You were tough before you got all girly. Rachel (Into phone): He could have become the mayor of Fresno. Chuy (Laughing): Mayor? That’s ridiculous—I could go higher. Come on, Rachel, make me governor of California! Rachel (Into phone): No, he could have become governor. Chuy: Let’s go all the way—El presidente de Los Estados Unidos. (Shouts a Grito) Rachel (Into phone): No, no . . . vice president of the United States. Chuy: Vice president? That’s how far as I could go? (Beat) OK, Vice President, as long as I get a limo with Warriors flags waving from all four fenders. Rachel (Into phone): I liked him a lot. Chuy becomes the caricature of a debonair lover. Romantic pop music as he approaches her. Chuy (To audience): I can get into her bedroom, but into a conversation—don’t think so. But if I could, it would be like this. Rachel turns to him, batting her eyelashes at him. They are both overly floral in their affection. Chuy declares his love. Chuy: Rachel, I knew you before we ever met, before I was even born or you were born, before Juliet on her balcony called out to her Romeo, before Eve picked an apple for Adam, before [Famous celebrity] hooked up with [Famous celebrity], then dumped him [or her]. You were a cosmic dream, really, someone who touched me in an eternal way. (To himself) Damn, I didn’t know I had that poetry inside me. (Beat) Rachel, I thought you were totally hot! Like, muy fina! Rachel looks at him, with a slight disappointment. Rachel: O, Chuy, O, Romeo de Southeast Fresno, you know how to say the wrong things but in a nice voice. (Looks at his hair) Let me fix your hair—looks like you went through a carwash. (Beat) I’m so sorry it happened. We’re gonna miss you. They nearly hug. Chuy: I’m gonna miss everyone. Gonna miss a lot of things. Rachel: I’m gonna tell everyone that we met in kindergarten. Is that OK? Chuy: Make it preschool. That would be OK with me. (Becomes sentimental) Rachel, you were so nice.
Rachel initiates a kiss, then pulls back, when their lips almost touch. Chuy turns away, wiping his eyes of tears. Romantic music fades out. Chuy: Ah, man, how come I had to get murdered? Chuy and Rachel exit. Romantic music reprise for a few seconds.
Scene Fifteen City Park Lights come up on Crystal and Chuy. Chuy is lying down, hands on his stomach, troubled. Crystal tries to lighten the moment. Crystal: Sit up and look at me. Chuy sits up. Crystal: What do you see? Chuy: A girl ghost. Crystal: And what is that girl ghost doing? Crystal smiles and bats her eyelashes. Chuy: Is it called . . . flirting? Crystal: No, but close. I’m trying to make you feel better. Do you want to feel better? Chuy shrugs his shoulders. Chuy: Sure, why not. Crystal searches her mind, then comes up with a question. Crystal: You ever do anything bad? Chuy reflects. Chuy: Anything bad . . . let’s see. (Smiles) I don’t know if this counts, but I broke this girl’s heart once. Crystal: You didn’t! You’re awful. Chuy is delighted that Crystal thinks he broke someone’s heart.
Chuy: You mean you believe me? Crystal: Well, you’re telling the truth, aren’t you? Chuy: Nah, I ain’t telling the truth—but you believed me. I consider that a compliment. (Struts with pride) You think I’m handsome? Crystal nods her head “Yes.” Chuy: So, like, one to ten, what am I? Chuy becomes anxious as he waits for her response. Chuy: Go ahead, be honest. Crystal (With intended playfulness): A four. Chuy walks around, dazed. Chuy: A four! A four! That good? Crystal: Actually, you’re a nine. Chuy dances around. Chuy: Like hello, world! This girl says I’m a nine. Slight pause. Chuy: But you asked if I ever did something bad. (Beat) When I was like seven I stole a Bic lighter from a liquor store. Crystal: You were just little. Chuy: But I kinda felt guilty. And God punished me ’cause I burnt my thumb from playing with it. Crystal: Guilt’s OK, at least for a while. It means you have a conscience. Slight pause. Chuy: I wonder ‘bout Yellow Shoes. Crystal: You mean if he has a conscience? Chuy: He could have slashed me and let me live. But he stabbed me three times and then said something cold-hearted.
Crystal waits to hear what was said. Chuy: He said, “Tell someone who cares.” (Beat) Yeah, I stole a lighter, which is nothing really, but that lowlife stole my life. Blackout.
Scene Sixteen High School The sounds of squabbling students seated in an auditorium. Lights come up fully. School principal enters first followed by Crystal who remains on the side, invisible to all. Principal holds a cup of Starbucks coffee and her phone. Principal (to audience): Everyone, please, give me your attention. (Sips from coffee cup) Students, stop what you’re doing—I’m dead serious here. A minute of silence as we lament (Looks at her phone for the name of student) Crystal’s passing—an unexpected and painful tragedy. Silence, please, (Sound of squabble fades out) a show of respect for one of our smartest and most popular students. (Sips coffee, checks phone, checks her lipstick in the reflection of the phone, then a back-to-business attitude) For ninth graders we have testing on Tuesday and Wednesday. Choir practice has been moved to four o’clock on Thursday. The last day to sign up for the Disneyland trip is next week—don’t forget to bring your consent forms. There may be a fire drill, and there may not. Just want to warn you. Principal starts to exit. The morning campus news report is over. Crystal steps forward, stunned by the apparent indifference. Chuy enters, concerned for Crystal. Crystal: That’s all? That’s all they have to say? Six seconds of mourning? Almost nothing. The principal turns and begins to prepare an additional announcement. Crystal becomes hopeful. Principal: Students, your attention, please. Choir members. Don’t forget to bring your robes to rehearsal. And whoever is tagging the gym better knock it off! Principal exits. The sounds of campus life fade out. Crystal paces, reflects, then to audience. Crystal: I shouldn’t have done it. I should have called my older sister. And now? Now there’s no one to call. Offstage, Crystal’s favorite song begins. Crystal’s mood changes from sadness to something close to happiness. Crystal: That’s sweet! They remembered my favorite song. Chuy attempts to lighten the moment.
Chuy: Your favorite song—really? So emotional. Crystal: Come on, you know you like it—don’t pretend. Chuy: Yeah, the song’s got a solid message. You can even dance to it. Do the Nene to those words. Crystal slaps his arm for being sarcastic. Song cuts out. Beat. Chuy: You think they’re gonna make an altar for you? Crystal: Altar? Chuy: You know, set up a bunch of your personal stuff somewhere. That way, your friends can come and remember you. Crystal: Maybe. Chuy: So, what would your altar be like? Crystal: Something pretty. Chuy: Something pretty? Crystal: Stuff from when I was my happiest. Chuy: Details, please. Fill out the picture. K-pop music, flash of lights, a puff of stage fog that grows, then a prepared-in-advance outrageously large altar of Hello Kitty items rolls onto stage. (As an alternative, the Hello Kitty Altar could be illuminated on the back wall) Chuy studies the lavish altar, whistles in admiration. K-pop music cuts out. Chuy: Hello Kitty, that’s like collector’s stuff, ain’t it? Crystal: The nineties for sure. My Aunt Jenny—she’s my mom’s younger sister—started giving me Hello Kitty things for my birthday and Christmas, all her coin purses, her wrist watch, her coffee mug, her jewelry, her headbands and socks, her alarm clocks—all of it. Chuy: That’s so cool! (Admires the altar) Maybe Hello Kitty could hang out with one of my Homies. They could come together and make a new breed of people—Hello Homies. Crystal: Chuy! You’re such a bratty ghost! (Suppresses a laugh) You’re so funny. They briefly admire the altar. Crystal becomes sad. Crystal: Plus, I would add my rejection letter from USC.
Chuy: Nah, ghost girl. Don’t be like that! They reflect. Crystal: Are you scared? Chuy stares at Crystal, aware what she means. Crystal: That we’re dying. Chuy: I’d be lying if I said no. (Slight pause) To tell you the truth, I thought I was going to live long enough so that I could take care of my mom when she got old. (Shrugs shoulders) Guess not. Crystal: I’m sorry, Chuy. And I’m sorry that you lost your father when you were young. Chuy: Yeah, my dad. I still miss him. (Looks up) Maybe I’ll meet him up there. They brood before Crystal once again becomes upbeat. Crystal: I have an idea. Let’s fly to my house. Chuy: Your house? Really? Crystal nods her head. Chuy: I’m up for that. Was wondering when I was gonna meet the parents. (Brightly) Vamonos! Chuy and Crystal exit, flying to music and with tree and cloud images illuminated on back wall. Blackout. Wind sounds cut in for a few seconds, then cut out.