A few days later.
GEENA’s bed is now empty, and made, tidily, with crisp hospital corners. MARCIE is the only one in the room. She lies in her bed, eyes closed, very still. We watch her for several long moments. Then—
DON enters, quietly. His demeanor has changed. Strangely, he seems almost calmer. Perhaps he holds his head a bit higher. Perhaps his spirits seem just a bit brighter. His outfit is definitely much better: he wears a pair of well-fitted pants, nice shoes, and a crisp button-down shirt under a well-tailored suit jacket, a copy of The New Yorker stuffed into one of the pockets. The sad corduroy jacket is, thankfully, nowhere to be found.
He looks at the empty bed where GEENA used to lie. Smiles, sadly, for just a moment. Then—
He sits down on his mother’s bed. Swings his feet up slowly and lies down on the bed. In exactly the same position in which his mother used to lie. Nestles his head into the pillow. Closes his eyes.
A moment. Stillness. Then—
MARCIE
You’re being creepy.
DON
(Startled.)
What?!
MARCIE
YOU’RE BEING CREEPY?
DON
Oh, sorry, I, uh …
He trails off. Sits up. Shakes his head; shakes the sadness away. Blinks. Straightens himself up. Then, he heads over to MARCIE’s side of the room. Tries to sort of knock on the curtain.
DON
(While “knocking” on the curtain.)
Ummm … “knock knock” …?
(Beat.)
MARCIE
Are you knocking on a curtain?
DON
Yeah. That’s weird, right? I just didn’t know how / else to—
MARCIE
COME IN, DON.
He steps onto MARCIE’s side of the room, and stands there, looking at MARCIE. A beat. Then—
DON
Hi.
MARCIE looks at DON.
MARCIE
Hi.
(Beat.)
MARCIE
I’m … sorry. About your mom.
DON
Thank you.
MARCIE
She was a good roommate.
DON
You never spoke to her. You never saw her …!
MARCIE
Exactly.
A beat. He smiles, a little. Then—
DON
How are you feeling?
I’m okay.
DON
Good.
(Beat.)
DON
Do you need anything?
MARCIE
I’m good.
DON
Good.
He looks around the room.
DON
Is—is Karla … not …
MARCIE
I told her to stay home today. Get some rest. Stay home forever, see if I care.
DON
Um.
MARCIE
She’s no use to me if she’s just sitting around here moping.
DON
Okay. / Is she—
MARCIE
She makes most things about her.
(Laughs, darkly.)
That’s youth, I suppose.
(Ruminatively.)
The selfishness of the young artist …
(With bite.)
The … aspiring artist.
A beat. DON deliberates. Then—
(Choosing his words carefully.)
I think—I think what happened … with my mother, … I think Karla—
(Beat.)
I think that was scary. For her. I think that was really scary.
MARCIE shrugs.
MARCIE
It’s stupid to come to Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center and expect no one to die.
DON
Well—
MARCIE
I mean that’s just willful ignorance.
DON
Well, I—
MARCIE
What did Karla think? That your mother was going to live?
(Cackles.)
Your mother looked dead the day I got here!
MARCIE cracks herself up.
DON
(Solemnly.)
Marcie.
MARCIE
(Sharp.)
Why are you here, Don.
DON says nothing.
MARCIE turns her head back to the wall. DON looks at her.
A beat. Then—he reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope, on which he has written the word “Marcie.” He places it on MARCIE’s bedstand. Then—he heads for the door. Before he can get there—
MARCIE
I shouldn’t … make jokes … like that …
DON stops.
I shouldn’t make jokes … about … your mom.…
DON
Oh.
She shakes her head back and forth.
MARCIE
She was your mom.
DON
I know.
MARCIE
Now she’s dead.
DON
I know.
MARCIE
It’s not … funny …
A beat. Then—
DON
Yeah, it is.
A weird, huge smile overtakes DON’s face.
DON
I mean, it’s incredibly sad, of course, and it’s … incredibly surreal, but it’s also incredibly … funny. Because … there’s this person, right? Who you love … so much. And they’re here, with you, every day. And then—they’re just … not.
(Laughs.)
It’s so weird! It’s so … absurd …!
(Laughs more.)
It’s … so … funny …!
He cracks himself up.
MARCIE
(Sharply.)
It’s not funny at all.
DON stops laughing.
There’s nothing less funny in the world.
(Beat.)
DON
All right.
MARCIE
What you’re talking about is relief.
DON
Okay.
MARCIE
You think: “Oh, she’s in a better place. She’s out of her pain. She’s moved on. And now I can, too.”
(Beat.)
But you can’t—you can’t. Because she’s in a better place, but you’re not. You’re not.…
(Beat.)
Because she haunts you. Inside.
(Beat.)
She makes you sick.
(Beat.)
She gives you cancer.
A beat. Then—
DON
(Gently.)
I know. That … you lost a daughter, Marcie.
(With aching sincerity.)
And I can’t pretend to know how … painful … that is. But …
(Becoming impassioned.)
The thing is? You didn’t lose your other—
MARCIE
Can you get me some fizzy water.
(Beat.)
DON
I’ll get you two cups.
He leaves.
MARCIE exhales. Takes a breath. And then—she notices the envelope on the bedstand. She reaches over, picks it up. Opens it. And takes out … a check.
She studies it. Expressionless. Unblinking. Cool. Then—
She puts the check back in the envelope. Places the envelope back on the bedstand. Closes her eyes. Then—
DON returns, carrying two Dixie cups.
DON
I’m back …! Do you want me to feed them to you?
MARCIE nods.
DON sits by MARCIE’s bed in KARLA’s chair. He puts one cup of seltzer down on the bedstand, then lifts the other cup to MARCIE’s mouth.
DON
Okay, I’m bringing the cup of seltzer to your—
MARCIE
Don.
DON
Sorry.
DON feeds her seltzer. She drinks.
DON
Good … Good.
She drinks the whole cup.
DON puts the empty cup on the bedstand.
DON
Do you want the other—
MARCIE
She told you about her sister, huh.
(Beat.)
DON
She did.
MARCIE
Huh.
Huh.….
DON
She—
MARCIE
She never talks to me about it. She never did.
(Beat.)
DON
Well. Maybe she—
MARCIE
I’m the mother.
(Beat.)
I would have appreciated … someone to talk to.
(Beat.)
DON
I know what you mean.
MARCIE looks at DON. Really takes him in.
MARCIE
You look nice today, Don.
DON
Thank you, Marcie.
MARCIE
I like your little suit.
DON
Thank you. Thanks.
MARCIE
You usually look like a homeless person.
DON
(Laughs.)
That’s what your daughter said, too …!
MARCIE
Huh. She said something funny. Huh.
DON
She’s very funny, Marcie.
MARCIE
(Turning to the wall.)
Uh-huh.
DON
She is.…
MARCIE
Hokay.
(Beat.)
DON
(Gingerly.)
I know that you two … have a … complicated … relationship. But—
MARCIE
(Doing her “dead face” again.)
Blehhhggghhh!!!
A beat. DON just looks at MARCIE.Then—
DON
(Pretending that didn’t just happen.)
Okay, I’m just saying that—
MARCIE
We don’t have a “complicated relationship.”
DON
Well, okay. But—
MARCIE
We don’t have a relationship.
DON
Okay. But—
MARCIE
How can you have a relationship with a person who only cares about herself.
(Beat.)
But—she—but why do you say that, Marcie? She’s been here with you—every day.…
MARCIE
Because she feels like she has to.
DON
Really?
MARCIE
Because she didn’t show up for me. Before.
(Beat.)
DON
Okay.
(Beat.)
But—
MARCIE
What?
DON
I just. Um.
(Beat.)
My son. He, um. He came to the, ah. The … funeral. Today. And he wore a suit …! I had never seen him in a suit. He didn’t even wear one to his own bar mitzvah. Refused to.
(Laughs a little, remembering.)
And it wasn’t, you know, an ironic suit. It was just … a suit. I didn’t even need to tell him to put it on. Neither did his mother! Apparently.
(Beat.)
He still wouldn’t talk to me, but.…
(With a sad smile.)
He looked great.
MARCIE
So?
A beat. DON takes a deep breath. Then—
DON
I just. You have to believe me, Marcie. Karla? She’s.…
She’s a good person.
MARCIE waves her hand vaguely in DON’s direction.
MARCIE
Enough.
DON
She’s a … generous / person.
MARCIE
Enough.
DON
She’s not selfish. Or, at least, not any more selfish than / the rest of us.
MARCIE
Enough!
DON
And, oh god, Marcie—she is so …
(Laughs, remembering one of KARLA’s jokes.)
… funny …! / She—
MARCIE
Don. ENOUGH!
MARCIE turns to the wall.
DON
(Softly.)
I feel like I’m doing everything wrong.
DON crosses to the window. Looks out.
MARCIE keeps her face turned to the wall. Then—
MARCIE
You know. I’m funny too.
(Beat.)
DON
I know.
DON looks at MARCIE, her face turned to the wall. Then—
MARCIE suddenly starts to laugh.
What …?
MARCIE
Just remembered a joke.
(Beat.)
DON
Oh yeah?
MARCIE
A joke I used to make with my mother. When she would give me a bath.…
(She laughs, remembering.)
Oh god, it’s so dumb …!
DON
What is it?
She laughs, and turns to face DON.
MARCIE
It’s—okay. Now remember I made up this joke when I was really little, okay?
DON
Okay.
MARCIE
Here it goes: two turtles are sitting in a bathtub.
DON
Okay.…
MARCIE
And one turtle turns to the other turtle and says: “Can you please pass me the soap?”
DON
Okay.
MARCIE
And the other turtle says: “What do you think I am? A typewriter?!”
MARCIE cracks herself up. DON looks on, bewildered.
DON
That … doesn’t make … any / sense.
That’s why it’s funny.
DON
Oh.
A beat. MARCIE smiles—deep in a memory. Then—
MARCIE
My mother used to love that joke.…
(Beat, remembers.)
She used to laugh and laugh.…
(Beat.)
DON
Oh yeah?
MARCIE
It was important for me. To make her laugh.
(Beat.)
DON
Oh yeah …?
MARCIE
Yeah. Because otherwise.…
(Beat.)
DON
Yeah.
A beat. MARCIE turns her head back to the wall. Then—
MARCIE
I don’t want your money.
(Beat.)
DON
I know.
MARCIE
(Waving her hand toward the envelope.)
Take it.
DON
Nope.
MARCIE
When I found out I had cancer, do you know what I thought?
She turns to DON. Looks right into his eyes.
MARCIE
I thought, “Oh, thank God.” Because, then—this …
She waves her hand vaguely around her forehead, searching for the right word.
MARCIE
… shit … would be over. All. This. Shit. This.…
(Waves her hand, vaguely indicating her head.)
Bullshit. Up here. This—
DON
I know.
MARCIE
No, you don’t.
(Laughs, darkly.)
You don’t know.
A beat. She closes her eyes. DON looks at MARCIE. Then—he crosses to her.
DON
(Soft, but forceful.)
Do you know? How many times? I’ve wanted to die? In the last three months? In the last year? My whole life?!
He sits in KARLA’s chair. MARCIE opens her eyes and looks at him.
DON
I have so much stuff … out here—
(Indicates the outside world.)
—and so little stuff … in here—
(Indicates inside of him—his heart, soul.)
—and so much going on up here—
(Indicates his head.)
—that it gives me even less in here—
(Indicates his heart and soul, again.)
A beat. He becomes overtaken with emotion. Then—
DON picks up the envelope from the bedstand and holds it out to MARCIE.
DON
Please, Marcie.
MARCIE looks at him. Then—she takes the envelope. Places it down on her bedstand. Then—
She reaches over and opens a drawer in the bedstand. Removes a remote control. Points it toward the TV.
DON
What are you—
MARCIE
Turning on the TV?
DON
Oh.
MARCIE
I figured we were sort of done here.
(Beat.)
DON
Oh.
MARCIE
Stay and watch with me, if you want.
DON
Oh.…
(Beat.)
Okay!
He sits down in KARLA’s chair as MARCIE presses a button on the remote. The TV turns on.
VOICEOVER
“—child-related sex crimes are considered particularly atrocious. In New York City, the hard-working detectives—
MARCIE
(With a little fist pump.)
… yes …!
—who investigate these odious incidents are members of a special squad known as the SV Ped. We follow their stories.”
The episode begins. They watch TV together for a long moment. Then—
MARCIE
I’ve seen this one.
MARCIE and DON’s eyes stay glued to the screen. A long beat. The blue light flickers across MARCIE and DON’s faces as they watch TV. Then—
KARLA enters, quietly. She sees DON. Startles. Then—he turns and sees her.
A beat. He takes her in. Then—
DON
Hi Karla.
(Beat.)
KARLA
(Uncomfortably.)
Heyyy.
A beat. Then—KARLA pulls over the visitor’s chair from GEENA’s side of the room, and joins them. They all watch TV together.
A long beat of this. Then—MARCIE eventually falls asleep. DON turns to KARLA.
DON
Um.
(With tremendous awkwardness.)
How are you?
(Beat.)
KARLA
What?
DON
How are—
KARLA
I’m good.
A beat. They watch TV. Then—
DON
I’m good too.
(Beat.)
KARLA
(Profoundly uncomfortable.)
Cool.
A beat. They watch TV. Then—
DON
Sorry, do you think we could.…
KARLA
What.
DON
Idunno. Maybe we could … talk? Privately? For a—
KARLA
Okay.
DON turns off the TV with the remote control. They both awkwardly stand up and head over to GEENA’s side of the room.
DON
(Indicating the curtain.)
I’m just gonna …
KARLA
Okay.
DON draws the curtain closed. They stand there, looking at each other. Looking away. Another beat. Then—
DON
So.… How are you?
KARLA
Um.
DON
Sorry, I just asked you that.
A beat. They look at each other. Look at the floor. Then—
DON
Wow.
What.
DON
Nothing. Just … you look really pretty.
KARLA
Um.
DON
Sorry. Is that …? Um. What I mean is. Um.
(Beat.)
I’d like to see you again.
KARLA
You’re seeing me right now.
DON
No I know, I just meant … like …
KARLA
What?
DON
I’d like to … go on another date.
KARLA
We did not go on a date, Don.
DON
No, I know. I just meant, like.…
A beat. Then—he leans in to kiss her.
KARLA
What are you doing?
DON
Oh. Sorry.
He pulls away.
DON
Wait why not?
KARLA
Because! This is, like … not the time or the place.
DON
Oh. Okay.
DON
Wait, sorry why not?
KARLA lowers her voice to a whisper. DON does too, but only because that is what KARLA is doing.
KARLA
Because … my mom is right there? / And—
DON
Yeah, / but—
KARLA
—I don’t know if she’s awake or asleep, / and—
DON
Yeah, / but—
KARLA
—we are in a hospital, / and—
DON
Yeah, but—
KARLA
—it’s like one in the afternoon, / and—
DON
Well / yeah, but—
KARLA
Your mother just died.
(Beat.)
DON
Well. Yeah. But—
KARLA
And also I just don’t know if we would actually be compatible. Actually.
(Beat.)
DON
(Crushed.)
Oh really?
Why not …?
KARLA
Idunno. ’Cause I’m a Scorpio?
DON
Um. Okay?
KARLA
And you’re a Sagittarius?
DON
I’m not a Sagittarius. You made a joke about me being a Sagittarius. But I’m not a Sagittarius.
KARLA
Oh. Right. What are you?
(Beat.)
DON
(Sadly.)
I’m a Cancer.
A beat. Then—
They crack up. Then—
KARLA suddenly moves to DON and hugs him. Hard. Almost knocks the wind out of him. She holds on to him for a long time. He holds on toher, too. Then—
DON
(Still holding on to her.)
I should go.
KARLA
(Still holding on to him.)
Why?
DON
You should … be. With your mom.
(Beat.)
KARLA
Don’t go.
He pulls away from her. Looks at her. She looks at him. Then—
He heads toward the door. Before he gets there—he stops, and turns. Looks at KARLA.
DON
I like you so much.
He leaves.
KARLA watches him go. Then—
She crosses to the curtain, draws it aside and enters MARCIE’s side of the room.
MARCIE lies there with her eyes still closed.
KARLA crosses to her chair and sits. Picks up her notebook and pen and begins to scribble.
A quiet beat. Then—
MARCIE
(Eyes still closed.)
He really likes you.
(Beat.)
KARLA
I don’t know.
MARCIE
Karla.…
KARLA
What?
MARCIE
You always see the negative in everything.
(Beat.)
KARLA
I don’t know.…
MARCIE
Ever since you were a little girl. You’ve had this uncanny ability to turn even the happiest experiences into nightmares. It’s impressive, really.
KARLA
Mom—
MARCIE
KARLA
Mom!
MARCIE
What.
KARLA
That’s not … nice.
A beat. MARCIE turns away. Then—
MARCIE
He really likes you.
KARLA stops scribbling.
KARLA
He’s still married.
MARCIE
Separated.
KARLA
Still. His life is a mess.
MARCIE
Whose isn’t.
A beat. MARCIE lies there, eyes closed. KARLA returns to her notes. Then—
KARLA
(A tiny voice.)
Karla …?
KARLA looks at her mother and sees that MARCIE has started to cry.
… I’m scared.…
KARLA freezes. Considers reaching. out to her mom, but stays where she is.
KARLA
Um. Do you want anything? Some fizzy water …?
MARCIE shakes her head. And just cries. A long moment.
Her crying is silent, but desperate. Plaintive. Painful to behold. It is the crying of someone who has not cried in a long time—the release of years and years of hardened grief.
KARLA watches. Frozen.
KARLA
Um.
(Beat.)
Um.…
A long beat. MARCIE cries. Then—
KARLA
Um so on my way over here? It was so funny because there was um this. Um. So I was on the 6 train?
MARCIE starts to calm down, a bit.
KARLA
And it was really crowded and I was just like holding onto a pole and listening to music and just kinda zoned out because I was really tired?
MARCIE stops crying. Sniffles.
KARLA
And um, then this, um—I had the music on shuffle? Which means that—
MARCIE
(Wiping her nose.)
I know what shuffle is.
KARLA
Okay cool. So I had it on shuffle, and then this, um, this … song came on? This song that, um. That Erika used to—do you remember? She used to play this song all the time? Really loud? Like on a loop? / In her room? It was—
MARCIE
The one about the chains?
KARLA
Yes!
MARCIE
Uch, it drove me crazy.
KARLA
MARCIE
The chains and the devils and the whores.
KARLA
Exactly! And my initial reaction was to be, like, oh god—let me switch the song, you know? ’Cause … Idunno, ’cause I guess when you hear a song that many times, you kind of … never need to hear it again?
(Laughs.)
And also ’cause … I don’t know. ’Cause I guess it reminds me of … Erika? So.
(Beat.)
But then I just … keep listening. And then I just. Um. For some reason, I just. Like. Start crying? I mean I was standing on the subway holding onto a pole, sandwiched in between a gajillion strangers, like, weeping.
(Laughs.)
And then … someone taps me on the arm. And it’s this total stranger—he’s this short Latino dude with like these really thick glasses? And he has earbuds in, too. And he goes:
She does a gesture with her hands to indicate swapping something.
KARLA
And I’m like, “Uhhh … what?” And he does it again—
Does the “swapping” gesture again.
KARLA
And then he starts to take out his earbuds. And so I take out mine. And then we just … swap. Earbuds. And I start listening to his music and he starts listening to mine. And his music is like.… it’s like the worst Top 40 teeny-bopper power ballad? That I have legitimately ever heard. And I’m about to take his earbuds out and be like: “Sorry dude, I can’t.” But then … I look up at him and he has my earbuds in and he goes:
She imitates him—big grin, bopping to the music, giving a thumbs up sign.
KARLA
And I go:
KARLA
And Mom? We rode the train like that? For half an hour.
(Beat; remembers.)
And then the train stops at 59th Street, and I realize that I have to get off at the next stop. So I start taking out his earbuds and he takes out mine—and we have said literally not one word to each other this entire time—and I give him back his earbuds and he gives me back mine. And the train slows down, and I’m about to get off, and I look at the guy, to be like, “Bye?” And he just … puts his hand on my shoulder.
(Beat.)
And he says … nothing. He just … looks at me. With his hand on my shoulder. And I look at him. And then …
(Beat.)
I get off the train.
A beat. KARLA becomes lost in a thought. She smiles, remembering. Then—she turns and sees that MARCIE’s eyes are closed.
KARLA
Oh.
KARLA returns to her notebook.
A beat. Stillness.
KARLA scribbles and MARCIE lies there, eyes closed. Then—
MARCIE
Read to me.
KARLA
What?
MARCIE waves her hand toward KARLA’s notebook.
MARCIE
Read me your jokes. Your new bits.
(Beat.)
KARLA
Really …?
KARLA
Um.
A beat. Then—KARLA flips to a page, and begins to read.
KARLA
“I’ve been single for so long? I’ve started having wet dreams about my vibrator.”
A beat. Then—MARCIE chuckles.
MARCIE
That’s funny.
KARLA
You think …?
MARCIE nods.
KARLA
Do you think it should be “wet dreams” or “sex dreams”?
MARCIE
“Wet dreams.” Definitely.
KARLA beams.
KARLA
Thanks. Me too.
KARLA turns the page.
KARLA
’K how ‘bout this: “Instead of a strong, chiseled, oiled-up man throwing open my bedroom door and raping me? I just have visions of like, my vibrator standing in the archway, backlit by silvery moonlight, sometimes wearing a fedora (sometimes not), and lovingly fucking me ’til sunrise.”
MARCIE cackles.
KARLA
(Glowing.)
You like that …?
MARCIE
That’s great …!
Really …?!
MARCIE
That’s funny.…
KARLA
Do you think the rape part is too much?
MARCIE
(Shakes her head, eyes still closed.)
No. It’s awesome.
KARLA’s eyes mist up.
KARLA
Really, Mom …?
(Beat.)
MARCIE
You’re funny, Karla.…
KARLA’s eyes fill with tears.
KARLA
Thanks, Mom.
MARCIE
You’re a funny girl.
MARCIE reaches out for KARLA’s hand, and KARLA takes it.
MARCIE
You’re a good girl.
KARLA begins to cry.
KARLA
Thanks, Mom. Thanks.
MARCIE
You’re a funny, funny girl, ….
The two women hold hands.
MARCIE opens her eyes, and squeezes KARLA’s hand. KARLA cries, and squeezes it back.
Blackout.