(LIZ immediately quits crying—stands—obediently crosses to MABLE’s wheelchair, releases hand brake, and pushes MABLE extreme down left, then out onto the elevated cliff, stopping at the very edge. MABLE stares out over the vast valley of Los Angeles, LIZ standing dutifully behind her, now fully in control of her emotions. They have left ROSCOE alone, standing by the table. Pause.)

(Staring out over audience.) Frightening, isn’t it?

ROSCOE: (Looking out, but staying by table.) Sally told me there’s too much smog today to see the ocean. Even though it’s blue.

MABLE: (Staring out.) What’s blue?

ROSCOE: The smog.

MABLE: Blue smog? Who told you that nonsense?

ROSCOE: Sally. Your daughter.

MABLE: I know who Sally is. Do you?

ROSCOE: Well—for just a short time—

MABLE: Did she tell you about herself? Her scar?

ROSCOE: Scar?

MABLE: Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. I’m sure you’ve encountered it firsthand.

ROSCOE: Well, I—

MABLE: Studied it closely in the gleaming moonlight.

ROSCOE: Me and Sally are just—

MABLE: “Friends”—yes. You told me.

ROSCOE: All she said was—

MABLE: Surgery. “Aortic incompetence” is how they put it. Like a demented child. Leakage of blood back into the left ventricle. Failure of the valve to close properly.

ROSCOE: Oh, no. She never told me it was that serious.

MABLE: Odd, isn’t it? How something can be slowly seeping like that—drop by drop. No sign of its dogged devastation. Just dripping away. Invisible.

ROSCOE: How old was she when she had the—

MABLE: A baby, really. Ten—or something. Imagine—at the threshold so early. (Pause.) A donor appeared.

(LIZ turns her back to audience and holds one hand to her face.)

A miracle. Young girl. Same age. Out of nowhere. Murder victim, they said. Slaughtered in her own backyard, playing with dolls in the sand. Never found the killer. (Pause.) Sally was on the list—they have a list for hearts, you know. You have to wait for one to appear. Car wrecks. Suicides. You have to wait. Sally was next in line. The girl’s heart was flown across the country in a glass box, surrounded by dry ice—floating in fog. Handled with blue plastic gloves. White masks. Shoes covered in cotton. Sally’s dripping heart was taken out. Handed from hand to hand. Her blood contained…(Continuing.)…in a tank. My pink daughter—just a corpse waiting to be brought back to life. No breath. No mind. Sliced open like a deer in the woods. Steaming in the yellow leaves. Dead to this world.

(Light begins to fade on MABLE, LIZ, and ROSCOE. Extreme down right, on the very edge of stage, SALLY appears in a yellow spot and sings directly to audience as other characters fade to black.)

SALLY: (Singing sweetly.)

I want to stay alive

I want to stay alive

How many times

I catch myself

I want to stay alive.