ACT ONE

Scene Eleven:

"The Scherzo/America"

The morning sun started to rise on the silent buildings of the West Side. Their square shapes stood out in stark contrast against the rising sun, the sky lighting the horizon with lighter and lighter shades of blue, purple, and yellow.

The noise steadily grew as garbage trucks went about their rounds, picking up trashcans on sidewalks. A shopkeeper swept the street in front of his store. A paperboy walked up a set of stairs to deliver a paper to an older woman on her stoop.

The window to Caitlyn's room was still open, the thin, white, lacey curtains hanging limp in front of them. Until a light summer breeze caught the curtains, making them lift and fall. The breeze got stronger, playing with fringe in Caitlyn's hair.

Caitlyn was alone in her bedroom. She had fallen asleep on top of her bed.

A piece of hair tickled her nose and Caitlyn opened her eyes, slowly sitting up and looking around the room, as though waking up from a nice dream. Stretching, she moved off her bed and stepped toward the window. She peeked her head out, enjoying the breeze, looking out at the fire escape.

There was no way she had imagined that. That was real.

Caitlyn stuck her head back inside, putting her hands to her face, blushing. Her blood fizzy.

"Caitlyn! Breakfast, niña!" Mel called.

Pivoting, Caitlyn walked toward her bedroom door, passing in front of her standing mirror –

Then came back to her reflection with a jolt.

She hadn't taken off her dress from the dance! She stood there, staring, at her white dress, and her makeup and hair still up.

Quickly, glancing at her bedroom door, she held her breath. She probably didn't have much time.

Moving hastily, Caitlyn undid the buckle of the red belt and shucked off her dress, tossing it over her standing mirror. Going to the clothing rack, she used as a closet, she grabbed her pink robe off a hanger and wrapped it around herself.

She sighed for a moment, contentedly. Imagining Vi's arms around her, like the night before.

Upon opening her eyes, Caitlyn glanced in another mirror, across the room, above her dresser. She still had her red lipstick on.

Caitlyn quickly grabbed a tissue and used it smudge the color off her lips. She undid the ponytail in her hair, running it through her fingers to make it fall more neatly. *

Looking in the mirror again, she scowled, deciding against it.

She scratched her fingers rapidly on her scalp, messing up her hair more. After whipping her head up and down a few times, she nodded to her messy reflection, satisfied.

She headed toward the door but stopped as she noted her neatly made bed.

Frantically, she whipped back her blanket cover, jumped in, and rolled herself inside the white sheet, creating folds like she had been asleep all night.

As Caitlyn stepped off the bed, she realized she had forgotten to put on her slippers over her bare feet. She hopped on one foot as she hurried to put on her slipper. She accidentally hopped backward toward the door and laughed as she thumped against it with her back.

It was one hell of a charade, but she still was so happy from last night.

Now she just had to pretend like it didn't happen.

Inside the kitchen, no one seemed to notice Caitlyn thumping around inside her room. At most, it was regarded with a shrug, as unrecognizable as other odd noises inside the building.

Although awake in the long hours of the night, Jayce and Mel woke up as early as usual, with the sun. There was just more to do, today. But they agreed to let Caitlyn sleep in a bit. She, after all, had to work the graveyard shift, tonight.

As the sun shone through the windows, Jayce was finishing his last set of morning pushups on the tile floor.

In the living room attached to the kitchen, Mel had repurposed it as her sewing room. Different translucent silks were hung up on clothing lines inside the room, slightly fluttering from the open window and the movement of people. A set of glass double doors, which would've led to Caitlyn's room, were normally kept closed, and the glass panels were decorated with square swatches of colored silk. Reds, blues, pinks, purples, magentas.

Mel wore a long, white apron covering her housedress. She had rubber gloves on, lifting serval yards of dyed silk from their cool water dye-setting bath in the kitchen sink.

Jayce stood up, rolling his shoulders. "Last night, I dreamed I was back in Puerto Rico," he said to Mel, a finger unconsciously played with the ring on his gold chain, "In my dream, we had six kids."

"Six kids?" Mel looked at him, sacrilegiously. "Marry a cat."

She carefully wrung the water from the silk, and then carried the bundle to her sewing room, hanging it up from a clothing line she stretched from wall to wall.

Pages of newspaper were laid on the floor, underneath the silks, a path from the kitchen to the clothesline, to catch any dripping water. On the stove and elsewhere in the kitchen were big aluminum pots containing the now-cold baths and boxes of Rit coloring dye. There was a smaller laundry apron with wooden laundry pins attached to the pocket draped over one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Jayce helped clear two burners off the stovetop; water heating in a small pot for coffee as he scooped a spoonful of lard into a pan.

As he retrieved eggs from the refrigerator, he shrugged and placed them on the table. "I've been asking you for five years," he said.

Mel hummed. "You want to marry me? Then leave the gringos alone."

Caitlyn casually entered the kitchen from her bedroom in her bathrobe. Jayce didn't notice her as she quietly entered like a mouse. Without looking or speaking to Jayce, she took the eggs from the table to the stove.

Jayce had stepped toward Mel, who was hanging up silk, smoothing out wrinkles.

"I'm gonna make quick work of the Jets," Jayce said, coming up behind her, murmuring into her neck.

Mel chuckled, "You sound like the funny papers. 'The Jets'."

"Y después… Poquito a poco te voy a hacer todas esas cositas que te encantan…" He embraced her from behind and whispered into her ear. "Carmelita… Maria… Teresa…"

"English. We gotta practice," she lightly scolded him.

"Josefina…"

Mel bit her lip as his hands traced over her. He kissed her collarbone, her neck, her cheek, her nose.

Caitlyn glanced from the stove and saw them kissing each other, passionately. The pot on the stove started to boil. Caitlyn scooped ground coffee into the boiling water and returned to the eggs.

"Good morning…" she said, announcing herself. When they didn't respond, Caitlyn added, "I'm right here…" as she continued cracking an egg in a bowl.

They still didn't respond.

She practically rolled her eyes at them. She probably didn't need to go to all the trouble of fixing the way she looked if they were that oblivious to their surroundings.

Still, they were very cute together. They had such a magnetic relationship. Caitlyn wanted to find love like that. Caitlyn smiled to herself. Maybe she did.

Caitlyn fought to keep the goofy grin off her face. She had to remember to be angry. She was angry.

Before Mel let Jayce go, she whispered seductively, imploringly. "Hazme feliz esta noche," Mel said to him in a breathy whisper. "Stay here and don't fight?"

Curious, arching her eyebrow, Caitlyn raised her voice, "What fight?"

They both finally noticed Caitlyn's presence in the kitchen. Mel narrowed her eyes at Jayce as she removed her rubber gloves.

"Don't worry about that," Jayce said.

Caitlyn frowned at her bowl as she stirred it with a whisk. "You don't have a fight until next week. The match with that… uh, Thompson guy. What was his name?"

Mel pulled out of Jayce's embrace long enough to tell her, "Your brother has something to say to you."

Mel gave him a push forward, Jayce still bubbly and fizzy, watching her go.

He turned to Caitlyn as Mel left to change in their bedroom, leaving the door partially open. He let his face drop and became more serious to address her.

"I, uh… I want to apologize," he said, rubbing a hand behind his neck. "For behaving last night like a…"

"Like a gangster!" Mel shouted from the other room.

"Sí, como un gangster," Jayce called back, returning to the kitchen sink.

The disappointment was real as Caitlyn frowned at him across the kitchen counter. "It was embarrassing."

"And he's apologizing!" Mel called.

Jayce slightly bowed his head to Caitlyn as he muttered a short, "Perdón."

Caitlyn glared a little darker. "I'm a grownup now, Jayce. I can dance with anyone I like."

Jayce bent down to wash his face in the sink. "As long as they are Puerto Rican."

Caitlyn grabbed a frying pan and clicked on the stove, poising her bowl over the pan. "But why? Vi's a nice girl."

Jayce flicked his wet hands in the sink, wiping excess water from his face. "Vi?" He laughed, raising his voice to Mel, "¿Oíste eso? Vi!"

Caitlyn frowned at him for mocking her name.

"Vi," she corrected him. "Who cares if she's a…?" Caitlyn shrugged. "I don't know what she is. A Yankee?"

Jayce chuckled, holding out his arms, "She's a Polack. That's what she is. A big, dumb Polack."

Mel leaned her head partially out of her bedroom door, grinning. "'Polack,' says the Spic. Now you sound like a real American!" she said, chuckling, before dipping back into her room to finish dressing.

Caitlyn smirked. Jayce waved his hand, simply accepting Mel's affectionate teasing of him.

He stepped forward to Caitlyn, his voice softer. He put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't want you to marry a gringa."

At that, Caitlyn looked at him with wide eyes. "Marry her?!" she said in shock, throwing her hands up to her head. "I danced with her, Jayce! For a minute, until you –"

She couldn't even continue her argument she was so frazzled.

"You're crazy! I can't even talk to you anymore!"

She stepped away from the stove, setting her bowl down on the kitchen table sharply.

"Ya soy lo soporto. ¡Yo no soy una bebé!" She glowered at him, spitting, across the table, "I was okay on my own. Just me and Papi for five years without you, while you came here, where you do everything you want."

Jayce pulled back a chair and sat down on the opposite side of the table, casually preparing his plate.

"You… You study, and you make money…" Caitlyn argued.

Mel walked into the room, dressed in a bright yellow dress with a knee-length skirt that swished, revealing the red petticoat as she walked. "And he boxes," she added.

Caitlyn nodded, leaning over the table. "¡Sí! And you have your boxing!"

Mel grabbed a glass from the cabinet and leaned over Jayce's shoulder. "And he fights in the streets."

Caitlyn frowned at him. "Don't fight with the Jets," she warned, severely, pushing away from the table. "¡Mami estaría avergonzada!"

Jayce looked at her, holding out his hands. "I want you to be happy. Te quiero mucho, y tengo que prote…"

Mel appeared at his side, humming as she pushed scrambled eggs from the frying pan onto his plate. "Here, dead man, eat your eggs." She nodded to them both at the table, "And everyone, speak English."

"Y yo también te quiero mucho," Caitlyn said, repeating the sentiment back the same way it was delivered, holding his hand for a moment, then resting her head on her arms on the table. "But I'm here, too! And I… I want to make a life, a home! Maybe go to City College like Elora's cousin, Virginia."

Jayce shook salt onto his eggs.

Caitlyn leaned her head to one side, smiling to herself. "I want to be happy here."

Jayce set the saltshaker down with a clap on the table. "Pero Nueva York no te hace feliz."

"English," Mel warned from the sink.

Jayce ignored her. "Puerto Rico, sí," he said shortly, shoving his fork in his mouth.

Caitlyn stood up, stating, "That is what you think! I'm gonna think for myself!"

She turned to leave, heading back to her bedroom, when Jayce pointed a finger at her, coughing around his eggs. "You keep away from her! M-Mientras tú vivas…"

Caitlyn stopped with a huff to herself, long enough to listen to him as he struggled to speak around his food.

Jayce swallowed his eggs, clearing his throat. "As long as you live in my house –"

Mel blanched at him, returning to set another plate at the table. "This ain't your house!" she scolded him, gesturing to Caitlyn, "She pays rent here, same as me and you." Mel's hand flipped between herself and thumping lightly against Jayce's chest as she leaned with one hand on the back of Jayce's chair.

"This is about family," Jayce said to her without thinking. He turned back to Caitlyn, answering, "Tú tienes que respe…"

He then stopped, feeling Mel's withering gaze upon his back.

As Jayce looked back at her, Mel's lips curled into her wicked smile. "Ah… ¿y ahora yo noy soy parte de la familia?" She snapped her fingers, leaning on one hand on the table, over his shoulder. "¿Y por qué? ¿¡Porque soy prieta!?" she snapped, slapping the back of her hand in her palm.

"¡Eso no es lo que quise decir, Mel!" Jayce begged, holding out his arms, reaching for her.

"Es bueno saberlo. No, no…" Mel pursed her lip, her hands up as she stepped away, turning back to the sink.

Jayce was torn between addressing Mel and addressing Caitlyn. He stammered back and forth between them before slamming his hand on the table, utensils clattering.

Pinching his nose for a second, he inhaled, then looking at Caitlyn, tightly, pinched his fingers together, stabbing his fingers down at the table. "¡Te prohíbo ver a ese estúpida Polack!" he snapped.

Caitlyn frowned at him. She knew he would have no idea but saying that… was asking her to not be happy.

"Maybe Viktor and your friends fall down at your feet, and maybe you scare the Americanos when you make fists and angry faces…" Her lip trembled as her turquoise eyes burned. "Pero yo no ester interesada ni en boxeo… ni en peleas… y tú no eres mi jefe." Caitlyn shook her head. "And I am not interested in what you have to say!"

She turned and exited the kitchen, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

In the silence, Jayce sat back in his chair, sighing deeply. He didn't touch his plate.

With a similar sigh, Mel put her hands on her hips, stepping forward. She grabbed the small laundry apron draped over the chair and put it around her waist, coming back toward the table.

"Amárrame eso," she said to Jayce, turning her back to him.

He stood up from the table and moved behind her. Mel let him take the apron strings, tying them together, sighing deeply.

"You want to know where my home is?" she asked. "It's where I pay rent. Right here."

She lifted her hands in emphasis. She looked around at the silks, biting her lip, calculating.

"Where I work my fingers raw, mending pants and hemming neckties, so that I can earn enough money to pay other girls to sew for me, so that, someday, I can rent a shop of my own…" she smiled at the dream, "… in this great, big, beautiful Nueva York."

Jayce tried to lean in over her shoulder to give a kiss on her freckled cheek. Mel lifted her hand as a barrier to stop him. Jayce backed his head away.

She looked at him, shaking her head at him. Her hazel eyes deep. "And if you think… that I'm going back home to Puerto Rico with six kids that I put to bed hungry every night…" she sighed deeply, "… amor de mi vida, you are dreaming."

Turning on her heels, she passed through the maze of silks, her shadow dancing over the silk sheets as she crossed the room, heading toward the open, curtained window.

Jayce frowned in thought. After a moment, he said, "In Puerto Rico, our kids won't get fat like the kids in New York."

Mel rolled her eyes at his joke as she stepped outside the window onto the fire escape.

Unlike the half of the fire escape connected to Caitlyn's room, this side, connected to Mel's work room, had a clothing line pulley system that spanned across the alley way to the neighboring building.

Mel sighed in the sunshine, feeling the warmth on her skin. Pulling on the laundry line, that hooked into the brick wall beside her, she started pulling in the hanging clothes she had left out last night, taking off the wooden laundry pins and placing them in her pocket. With so much practice, she knew by muscle memory how to do it efficiently and not drop any of the clothes on the line into the street below. She dropped each garment neatly into a basket at her feet.

Mel wasn't the only one outside. Other people were milling about the alleyway below. Other people were hand-washing garments against washboards, the scratching making its own music. A few kids played in the alley. A girl with red hair spun a toy top in front of her friends.

Mel smirked to herself, thinking of how she had left home, against her family's wishes, to follow her dreams and to follow her heart. She hummed to herself, and soon, her humming grew into singing.

Puerto Rico, you lovely island,

Island of tropical breezes…

A gust of wind channeled down the alley, lifting clothes on the laundry lines, like kites, threatening to take them away into the sky.

Always the pineapples growing,

Always the coffee blossoms blowing…

One of her friends living in the building next door, stood on the fire escape adjacent to her, spoke up.

And the money owing…

The neighbor next to her, popped her head out of the window, waving her hand dismissively.

And the babies crying…

Another woman was leaning out of her window on her elbows. She smoked a cigarette, tiredly.

And the people trying…

Mel gripped her fire escape railing and sang proudly.

I like the island Manhattan!

She glanced above her as she heard the window open. Her friend, Elora, who lived upstairs, stuck her head out and piped in.

I know you do!

Mel nodded to her, acknowledging their prior engagement to go shopping today, then turned back to enter her window.

As she stepped inside, she passed Jayce, who held out his hand to help her down. She tossed the dry clothes at him, making him catch them as she walked by.

Smoke on your pipe and put… that in!

Mel smiled as she met Elora and Sky, at the bottom of the stairwell, the three of them walking side by side. Dressed for shopping, they exited outside, and descended the stoop in front of their building, strutting along the sidewalk.

I like to be in America!

Illi, Conchi, and Montse, dressed for shopping and work, descended the adjacent stoop, joining Mel, Sky, and Elora.

Okay by me in America!

They passed a third stoop, with Tati, Clary, and Charita descending, joining in.

Everything free in America!

Reaching the end of the sidewalk, the women split up, heading in different directions. Not much time for a hello and a goodbye.

Running, Jayce caught up with the three of them, standing at the sidewalk, waiting to cross. Not fatigued, he held out his hand as though allowing them to go first. He frowned as he voiced aloud.

For a small fee in America…

Mel rolled her eyes as she walked past him. Jayce dropped his hand. He shook his head with his friends, Braulio and Quique, who caught up with him, carrying a gym bag and boxing gear for training at the gym. Jayce waved to let them go ahead of him.

With a quick glance around, Jayce saw two cops approaching the sidewalk behind them, patrolling their beat. They seemed to regard Jayce and the others suspiciously. Jayce narrowed his eyes, then followed his friends.

As Mel continued her walk, she waved as she approached a salesman outside a small fabric store called, House Ferros. She asked him for a package of fabrics that she had ordered, nodding professionally with him. He smiled and held out a receipt for her to sign. Mel accepted, signing with happy flourish.

Buying on credit is so nice!

Jayce looked over her shoulder at the receipt, his eyes growing as he realized the tax percentage on it. He took the receipt and slapped it in his hand in emphasis as he glared daggers at the frightened man.

One look at us and they charge twice!

Glaring at him, Mel shook her head. Scowling, the shopkeeper took the receipt back and stuffed it in the remaining shopping bag for Mel. Elora stepped in between Jayce and the salesman, distracting him.

I got my own washing machine!

Jayce arched an eyebrow, holding up his hands in confusion.

What do you have, though, to keep clean?

Mel scowled flatly, shoving her bags into his arms and walked off with Elora and Sky. They danced into the street, admiring the cars that went by.

Skyscrapers bloom in America!

Cadillacs zoom in America!

Industry boom in America!

More of Jayce's friends suddenly appeared out of nowhere and surrounded Mel, leaning very close together like sardines in a can. They laughed at her disgruntled expression.

Twelve in a room in America!

Mel pushed through the men, leaving them behind.

At the end of the street, she saw a crowd gathering, other Puerto Ricans protesting the evictions that were happening to make room for the new Lincoln center.

To be honest, Mel wasn't sure how she felt about this change. It made her nervous. But it also meant that a new art center would be built, perhaps bringing more varieties of culture to the masses. She hoped…

Mel sang to herself.

Lots of new housing with more space…

The crowd held up banners and shouted loudly at the cops that tried to keep the peace.

Lots of doors slamming in our face!

Mel saw a sign painted with the image of the tall, new apartments that were going to be built in place of the rubble that was behind the plywood fence.

I'll get a terrace apartment…

She sang, pointing up to a spot she wanted, showing Sky, and Elora.

From the other side of the facade, Jayce popped up, looking down at her.

Better get rid of your accent

Jayce hopped over the facade as the ladies marched past him. Mel ignored him, stepping in time with her friends down the sidewalk.

Life can be bright in America!

Jayce and his friends stepped ahead of them, punching the air in emphasis.

If you can fight in America!

The girls overtook the guys again, swishing their skirts and stamping their heels with pride.

Life is alright in America!

Jayce merely shrugged with his friends.

If you're all white in America!

Mel come-backed over the shouting of their friends, "¿Ah sí, Señor, y tu no eres jincho?"

Their blocking and evading became a dance – their annoyance with one another giving way, though not entirely, to their enjoyment of their partnership. They took their fighting into the streets.

Jayce, flanked by his friend, Scar, Braulio, and Quique, danced in the street, skipping high in the air, twirling and stamping.

"¡Vamos!" he shouted in challenge, leaning on his back foot, pretending to toss the metaphorical ball to Mel.

With a smirk, she put her hands on the shoulders of Aníbal and Manolo, lifting herself up to give a double high kick in the air, her skirt swirling and flaring out, yellow and red, almost like fire. Sky and Elora similarly flanked behind her, spinning with her, kicking their heels up.

Mel aimed most of her hardest hits toward Jayce, dipping her hips, snapping her fingers in his face and sharply turning away from him, trouncing him.

Moving across the street to the sidewalk outside Gimnasio De Los Hermanos Rivera, Quique held up focus mitts for Jayce, who fired off a brisk combination, punching hard and fast. Quique and Braulio sang.

La, la, la, la, America!

Jayce ducked as Quique swung at his head, then finished the last punch, smiling at Mel, singing.

America!

Mel cocked her eyebrow. She shoved Jayce aside and punched the mitts herself, finishing with a sharp strike that left Quique wincing and taking off the mitt to clench his hand.

La, la, la, la, America!

Mel sang, holding a hand to her chest, glancing Jayce up and down.

America!

Quique shook out his hand, stung by the blow. "Ay, ay, ay!" he hissed. Braulio laughed and gave a low whistle, appreciating Mel's strike.

Jayce pushed past his friends, chasing his girlfriend into their neighborhood gym.

Inside the boxing gym, Puerto Rican guys were working out with punching bags and jump ropes. This was the home of the Sharks. In the ring, a pair of young boxers were sparring. One knocked out the other as the ladies took up position outside of the ring. A bell dinged. They stopped to face the men that followed them inside.

Mel turned on her heel, flanked by Elora and Sky, hands on their hips.

Here, you are free, and you have pride!

Jayce stepped up in front of Mel, hands on his belt; Scar, Braulio, and Quique flanking behind him.

So long as you stay on your own side!

Mel and the girls stepped even closer, smirking at Jayce and the guys.

Free to do anything you choose!

Mel pivoted on her foot and the girls parted as Mel walked away. Surprised, Jayce was made to catch up with her. He waved his hand to his friends, gesturing he would catch up with them later.

Free to wait tables and shine shoes!

Outside the gym, the back door opened in an alley on West 68th street Market.

The two of them alone, Jayce jogged to catch up with Mel, singing over her shoulder, and taking quick glances down the alleys that they passed, on the lookout for danger. For her and him both.

She marched on without slowing down, looking forward. Jayce grew more frustrated, counting on his fingers all the things he hated.

Everywhere grime in America!

Mel answered him flatly, focused ahead. "¡Cierto!"

Jayce threw his arms up.

Organized crime in America!

"¡Lo sé!" Mel paused and glanced up and down the street for cars before crossing.

Shaking his head, Jayce threw his arms down.

Terrible time in America!

Mel stopped abruptly in the middle of the street, pivoting in front of him, cutting him off with a snap of her fingers.

You forget I'm in America…

She turned again and resumed her determined walk.

Sky and Elora caught up to them and walked past Jayce, grinning now as they flanked Mel.

Jayce was nailed to the spot by his helplessness in the face of what she'd said.

Mel, Elora, and Sky turned off the alley onto 68th street, entering the market the Jets had vandalized yesterday. They took off running, laughing gayly.

Mel led the Shark girls, dancing in the street. A bunch of Shark guys and Puertorriqueñas were already there, shopping and browsing. Upon seeing their friends, they gestured to each other to join in the dance.

They clapped and the guys clapped in return.

Gravitating back to their partners, couples lined up on the street curb. Jayce and Mel led the dance, stepping up and down, circling each other, clapping their hands up, down, side to side. They couldn't help but smile as they danced, eyeing each other.

As they spun, Jayce was left blinking as Mel suddenly broke away, heading to another fabric store on a street corner.

Jayce ran across the street, catching up to the whole group, cutting Mel off on the sidewalk. He challenged.

I think I go back to San Juan!

She stood on her back foot, looking him up and down, and replied, smugly.

I know a boat you can get on!

Her friends leaned over her shoulders, waving their hands, cheering, "Bye, bye!"

Mel continued on her way with them, smirking.

Jayce smirked where he stood, rubbing his nose. He called after her.

Everyone there will give big cheer!

His friends, behind him, backed him up, giving a cheer. "Hey!"

Mel stopped in her tracks, eyeing a fruit stand. She held an apple for a moment, pursed her lips, and merely shrugged.

Everyone there will have moved here

Everyone oohed at Mel's comeback. Jayce merely frowned.

Damn, Mel's wit. The only other person who could be his match. Challenge him, frustrate him. He loved her for it.

Mel and the girls flounced away, leaving the Sharks to comfort him over Mel's burn.

Mel tossed the apple to Sky who shyly put the apple back on the fruit stand. From behind polyester clothing racks, Mel and the Shark ladies snapped their fingers, singing as they hid among the fabric.

Ow, ow, ow!

Ow, ow, ow!

Ow, ow, ow!

As Jayce moved through the maze of clothing racks, wondering where Mel went, the women came out and waved polyester at him, chasing him away, laughing.

Moving up Amsterdam to West 69th, they continued to dance into the street, weaving between their neighbors going about their business.

The communal dance started to expand until it overflowed the street and the sidewalks. At the center of it all, Mel and Jayce, orbiting each other, their opposing incommensurable dreams demanding space alongside their enormous love for one another. Their fierce mutual need to conquer one another and their ferocious desire for one another, loss and anger and hope and joy all elements in the friction they generated, sending sparks shooting through the whole population of San Juan Hill, setting it afire!

The girls shouted.

Hey!

The guys shouted back with a clap.

Hey!

The girls shouted again with a stamp of their feet and a whip of their skirts.

Hey!

The guys clapped again, stamping in return.

Hey!

The dancers blocked an intersection, and the drivers of the stopped cars get out to join the impromptu party. Kids playing in the streets danced with the adults, laughing. Jayce and Mel took center stage, finishing with a huge flourish.

Jayce held Mel's arm and spun her around once more and dipped her down. He smiled as she popped back up, then she grabbed his face and kissed him, passionately.

Their friends all cheered, whooping and hollering, together. Raising their spirits to the sky.

/

"Niña!"

"Little girl!"

"Y después… Poquito a poco te voy a hacer todas esas cositas que te encantan…"

"And then… Little by little I am going to do all those little things that you love."

"Hazme feliz esta noche."

"Make me happy tonight."

"Sí, como un gangster."

"Yes, like a gangster."

"Perdón."

"Sorry."

"¿Oíste eso?

"Did you hear that?"

"Ya soy lo soporto. ¡Yo no soy una bebé!"

"I can't stand it. I'm not a baby!"

"¡Mami estaría avergonzada!"

"Mommy would be embarrassed!"

Te quiero mucho, y tengo que prote…"

"I love you so much, and I have to protect you…"

"Y yo también te quiero mucho."

"And I also love you very much."

"Pero Nueva York no te hace feliz."

"But New York doesn't make you happy."

Mientras tú vivas…"

"As long as you live…"

"Tú tienes que respe…"

"You have to respect…"

"Ah… ¿y ahora yo noy soy parte de la familia? ¿Y por qué? ¿¡Porque soy prieta!?"

"Oh… and now I'm not part of the family? And why? Because I'm brown?!"

"¡Eso no es lo que quise decir, Mel!"

"That's not what I meant, Mel!"

"Es bueno saberlo. No, no…"

"Good to know. No, no…"

"¡Te prohíbo ver a ese estúpida Polack!"

"I forbid you to see that stupid Polack!"

"Pero yo no ester interesada ni en boxeo… ni en peleas… y tú no eres mi jefe."

"But I'm not interested in boxing... or fighting... and you're not my boss."

"Amárrame eso."

"Tie that for me."

"Amor de mi vida…"

"Love of my life…"

"¿Ah sí, Señor, y tu no eres jincho?"

"Oh, yes, Sir, and you're not a [light-skinned boy]?"

"¡Cierto!"

"Certainly!"

"¡Lo sé!"

"I know!"

/