Capicú

Capicú is a duet.
A man enters stage left wearing white briefs an undershirt and a black backpack.
He walks tentatively, paces, looks around. He's waiting for something or someone.
Awkwardness. A sudden and short tantrum pulling and pushing the backpack with his back to the audience. Walks forward, facing the audience, looks at his imaginary wristwatch.
A woman has entered stage right, wearing white briefs and tank top, black backpack. She is looking at the man. Perhaps she is acknowledging her tardiness.
Keeping the distance between them, they both walk upstage, sit, and open their backpacks.
With the racer's soundtrack, they pull out clothes and put them up. They both pull on long sweatpants, and a mid-length, flowy skirt on top. They walk downstage right and face away from the audience.
Each does a series of stretching movements, casual.
Small ducking move.
And then, finger to palm of the hand, palm of the hand to cheek, several gestures of the arms, hands, face, until they align both their hands in front of them as if tracks indicating where to move. They walk forward, which is upstage.
Turning downstage with stretched arms, run. The hand touches the face, the finger touches the palm of the other hand. A series of leaps, turns, and balances in one leg around each other.
Leg gesture, turn, jump. [There's a photograph of this moment with Viveca and David Rodríguez. The version I am seeing is with Teresa Hernández and Eduardo Alegría, who learned it for Riversa.]
Pause.
Inner, sustained collapse.
They sit and look uncomfortable,
like when you are in proximity but really need to be on your own.

He gets closer, his back almost touching hers.

We seem to be witnessing real-time.

Her arm wraps around his shoulder.

Floor roll, tossing of each other, playfully,
rolling, hugging to toss and roll...

Pause.

She holds his foot in the air as he holds her foot in the air, quick, pause.

More rolling, hugging, and tossing, medium level, then standing.

Hand-to-cheek hoping on two legs several times, turning, on, until she jumps on to him on a sideways piggyback, stretches her arm out, like a ship's figurehead. He lowers to the ground with her on. They crawl forward, downstage.

He takes her hand, they walk together counterclockwise around the edges of the stage. Smiling. Goofying. Holding. Holding too tight.

She takes off after being held to firmly. He stands in place, palms of the hands turned upwards, as if not understanding what happened. Begins to have a gestural conversation with self: finger pointing at face...

She is in an aftermath. Physically seeing the effects through.

They both walk upstage again to their backpacks. Each takes out an umbrella, the kind that pops longer when you press a button.

They walk towards each other, midstage. Turn forwards.

With the weather soundtrack, they point the umbrellas to their own temple and pop it open. They walk away from each other. Turn upstage at the edge of the stage. Walk towards each other until facing each other closely.

Walk sideways upstage as lights fade out.