SCENE 4: INTERROGATION, MILITARY STYLE

(NARRATORS enter whispering; they stand behind NAOMI.)
NARRATORS: (In unison) Bring the knife, ring the bell, when
you die you'll go to hell.
(Whispered:) Step on a crack...
Bring the knife, ring the bell, when you die you'll go to hell.
(Whispered:) Step on a crack ...
Bring the knife, ring the bell, when you die you'll go to hell.
(Whispered:) Step on a crack...
Break your mother's back.
(NAOMI is gagged, seated, surrounded by MILICOS and
NARRATORS. She does not speak or struggle; she is mute,
motionless, expressionless. By contrast, the faces of various
NARRATORS silently mime the pain she must be feeling.
However, when the NARRATORS speak, their voices are
dispassionate, clinical, precise. The MILICOS run through a
gamut of emotions, from frustration to sexual release. They are
totally engaged in the horror they wreak upon NAOMI. The
COMMANDER steps forward and addresses the audience.)
COMMANDER: You're wondering how we go about
interrogating a person. We don't diddle around with all
that psychological mumbo-jumbo. We rely on technology.
The pace of questioning is determined by how rushed we
feel, by the time of day the subject was brought in. For
instance, if it was two in the afternoon, the questioning
would have to be done swiftly... because we might have a
meeting in an hour and a half and, in order not to miss
that meeting, the interrogation would have to be hastened
through the scientific application of electric shocks. You
understand, I'm sure.
NARRATORS: It all happens so fast I remember nothing, how
or where I get out of my clothes, even though I'm not in
the habit of undressing in public. I do it in a split second
but I still get prodded with their rifle butts.
MILICOS: The kid misbehaved, did she?
Looks like we'll have to give her a spanking.
A little pat-pat on the fanny.
NARRATORS: Unable to see, I ignore their presence, unless
they talk to me.
And oh do they talk.
No, they bark, sort of.
MILICOS: Strip naked, bitch!
NARRATORS: Bark, bark.
MILICOS: Lie on your back!
NARRATORS: Bark. (Beat)
It's a cold metal table.
They tie me up.
MILICOS: Even if you don't know a thing ...
You're going to pay...
Just for being a Jew.
COMMANDER: We assured the subject that our main concern
was subversives ¬
MILICOS: And Jews!
COMMANDER: - followed closely by the Jewish problem. We
were simply gathering facts.
MILICOS: What was that you were screaming back there, huh?
That wasn't Spanish. Was it?
NARRATORS: My name.
MILICOS: There's laws against saying Jewish words in public ...
NARRATORS: My last name.
MILICOS: ... and for being a Jewish shit!
COMMANDER: There'll be no Jewish names in the new
Argentina. (MILICOS laugh.) Were you planning a trip to
Israel? Getting out of the country? Why would anyone
want to leave Argentina?
MILICOS: Unless they're a traitor.
COMMANDER: We are required to learn who was planning to
travel with you, where you were going, who your contacts
were. Understand? You are required to tell us.
NARRATORS: I lie face up on a metal table ...
COMMANDER: There are no options, no choices.
NARRATORS: ... naked, spread-eagled, bound hand and foot,
blindfolded.
COMMANDER: You will tell us.
NAOMI: Music plays somewhere.
COMMANDER: Put the Chopin on! (To audience:) This is the
technology I spoke of before, the most up-to-date. The
interrogator's bible. The cattle prod. (MILICOS show cattle
prod to audience, demonstrate.)
NARRATORS: They fire electricity through the end of a cable.
MILICOS: Confess!
NARRATORS: The charge penetrates my brain, my teeth, my
gums, my breasts
COMMANDER: Names, if you please.
NARRATORS: - my ovaries, my nails, my ears, my skull.
COMMANDER: Your code name?
NARRATORS: The pores of my skin smell burnt.
COMMANDER: You cannot help but tell us.
NARRATORS: They turn me over, laughing, and go up and
down over my back until the voltage drives me crazy and
I yell out ...
COMMANDER: Spare yourself.
NARRATORS: But then I control myself.
COMMANDER: Brother's code name, his friends' code names,
his friends' friends' code names.
NARRATORS: I won't give this gentleman the pleasure of my
tears.
COMMANDER: What are the names of your university
classmates ...
NARRATORS: Electrodes on my teeth ...
COMMANDER: Your cousin's wife ...
NARRATORS: Each lightning bolt cracking my head open ...
COMMANDER: Your traveling companions?
NARRATORS: A thin cord with tiny little balls, each ball an
electrode ...
COMMANDER: Names.
NARRATORS: A thousand pieces of glass shattered ...
MILICOS: Namesssss.
NARRATORS: Spraying my insides with exploding shards that
rip through...
COMMANDER: Name names.
NARRATORS: I couldn't shout or moan or move.
MILICOS: Name names, name names.
NARRATORS: Just a convulsive shaking. (As NAOMI begins to
shake with each electric charge, only a twitch at first,
building to a convulsive dance, the MILICOS are chanting
beneath the NARRATORS.)
MILICOS: Name names.
Name names.
Namename.
Namename.
NARRATORS: Voices whispering ...
Questions in a strange language ...
Sickening, dizzy music ...
A concert of nonsense lyrics, spasmodic rhythms and a
strange percussion that jolts my skin ...
I feel no blows...
But something brushes past without stinging or burning
or shaking or hurting or drilling...
MILICOS: Nnnnnaaaaaammmmmmeeeeeesssss!
NARRATORS: It kills me.
That humming ...
That agony...
That precarious fraction of a second that precedes the
shocks ...
The sharp point that explodes on contact with the skin ...
Vibrating ...
Cutting ...
Piercing ...
(Voices overlapping:) Destroying my brain my teeth my
gums my ears my breasts my eyelids my ovaries my
nails the soles of my feet.
My skin gives off a burnt smell.
A blue smell.
That blue smell.
Gerardo! (NAOMI screams, then begins spewing made-up
names as fast as she can.)
NAOMI: John Doe, Joe Blow. Marcus and Aurelius. Romeo
Jones, Juliette Garcia. Uncle Jorge, Granpapa Borges.
Franco Kafko, Eduardo Muncho ...
NARRATORS: My screams and the music merge with voices
asking me questions until I am naming names because I
can't help it ...
Can't stop it ...
Have to do something ...
Anything!
NAOMI: Gabriela, Isabela, Consuela, Tinkerbell-a, Donuella ...
NARRATORS: I don't know what to invent without
contradicting myself.
Luckily my memory is bad.
I can hardly remember anyone.
NAOMI: (Running out of names, slower) Señora Freud. Señorita
Jung ...
COMMANDER: (To audience) Sometimes even the best
application of technology produces less than the desired
results. In such cases, we've found that patience and the
resolute re-application of technology is usually successful.
(To NAOMI) You're gonna pay for this! (Exeunt
COMMANDER and all but one of the MILICOS. Silence.)
NAOMI: Gerardo... and ... Norita ... and ... and ... nobody's left.
(As they speak, the NARRATORS untie NAOMI, help her to
her feet, escort her to the Ford Falcon.)
NAOMI: after the first session with the cattle prod they throw
me into a cell.
I take off my blindfold, but I can't see anything.
I'm in a dark cubicle so small I can't stand up.
They want me to think it over until I decide to
cooperate.
NARRATORS: Think it over! I can't think.
NAOMI: I don't know any words to think with.
There are vacant lots between me and my memories.
I've already forgotten myself ...
NARRATORS: Who I was ...
Where I lived ...
Where I was born ...
How it felt to be alive ...
When I died.
I have nothing to say, nothing to add, nothing to understand.
NAOMI: They come back.
Boots echoing in my brain.
I cover my eyes and the door opens.
Once again they drag me and I fall.
We reach another room and I feel a white light through
the blindfold.
MILICOS: You're gonna remember this just like you
remember your mama.
NARRATORS: I don't understand a word.
More voices. More music.
I don't care.
Don't feel a thing.
Dead already.
(Exent all but NAOMI.)

SCENE 5: INTERROGATION AND SEX