EXCERPT

JOANNA
Where does your family live, Michael?

TOM’S FRIEND
I don’t know.

JOANNA
Oh.

TOM’S FRIEND
I mean, now.

ROBERT
Huh.

TOM
That’s weird.

TOM’S FRIEND
Right?

JOANNA
Why is that?

ROBERT
Honey…

TOM
God, mom. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it.

TOM’S FRIEND
No, I can. I knew for the longest time where they were. In the Bronx. And then up in Mount Vernon. In a house. I used to think about it, picture them there.

JOANNA
I don’t understand.

ROBERT
Maybe it’s not for us to understand.

JOANNA
But —

ROBERT
People live with, uh, all sorts of tough stuff in this world.

TOM’S FRIEND
My family got rid of me when I was born.

JOANNA
(horrified)

Oh. .... Uh. How so?

TOM’S FRIEND
I mean, they sent me off.

ROBERT
(uncomfortable; doesn’t even know he’s uncomfortable)

Is that right?

TOM’S FRINED
Just made it easier.

JOANNA
Made what easier?

TOM’S FRIEND
Life. Everything. They lived better.

JOANNA
Oh god.

TOM’S FRIEND
I mean, the father sent me off. He and the doctor. They knew. The mother didn’t know.

JOANNA
I don’t understand — were you adopted? They couldn’t afford to have a child?

ROBERT
Stop asking him, Joanna —

TOM’S FRIEND
I died about seven years ago, actually —

And it’s out, this illogical fact. Beat. Like in dreams, this somehow makes sense to everyone. The scene becomes somewhat dreamlike, actually; the mother somewhat dazed, the father agitated.