LUCY: I wouldn’t say that, exactly.

SALLY: What would you say?

LUCY: Well—of course she screamed back when she fell out of that tree.

SALLY: Yeah.

LUCY: But that was a long time ago when Whitmore left her. You weren’t even around.

SALLY: I was here. Right here. When you brought her back in pieces. She was screaming then.

LUCY: Well—she was in terrible pain.

SALLY: The police came to the door.

LUCY: I don’t remember that.

SALLY: Of course you don’t.

(Long pause where the two of them just sit there in silence.)

What?

LUCY: Screaming, I mean.

SALLY: Screaming neighbors.

LUCY: Domestic dispute or something.

SALLY: I’ve never seen the neighbors, have you?

LUCY: Once.

SALLY: I’ve seen their cars. Their gardeners.

LUCY: Who could’ve been screaming, then?

SALLY: This is L.A. People scream all the time.

(Long pause.)

LUCY: What happened to your friend? “Boscoe,” was it?

SALLY: Roscoe.

LUCY: Whatever.

SALLY: No. Not “whatever.” That’s his name—Roscoe. How would you like it if somebody called you “Juicy” instead of Lucy?

LUCY: Sally, for Christ’s sake! It’s so much fun trying to have a conversation with you!

SALLY: Fun?

LUCY: (Short pause.) Where is your friend—Roscoe? (Exaggerating name.)

SALLY: Walking his dog. (Exaggerating “dog.”)

LUCY: (Pause.) Oh—he’s got a dog? That changes my opinion of him.

SALLY: Why’s that?

LUCY: He’s the one who just recently left his wife and children, isn’t he? Ran off?

SALLY: So?

LUCY: Well, he must be looking for a replacement, then.

SALLY: With the dog?

LUCY: Yes. Well—

SALLY: The dog replaces the children?

LUCY: I’m not—

SALLY: That’s deep, Lucy. That’s really deep. Did you just come up with that on your own?

(SALLY gets up suddenly, crosses upstage, gets into her bed, and wraps herself up tightly in sheet, as before, then turns her back on LUCY. LUCY stands, gathering her tray together.)

LUCY: Well—maybe you just need more rest, Sally. Maybe that’s it. Lack of sleep can make a person crabby and irritable. Studies show— (She begins to cross stage right, then stops.) You really ought to take your medicine, though. You want to stay alive, don’t you?

(LUCY exits stage right. SALLY just lies there with her back to audience for a short while, then suddenly starts singing, a capella—in full voice, while remaining in posture, her back to audience.)

SALLY: (Singing.)

I want to stay alive

I want to stay alive

How many times I catch myself

I want to stay alive

I’m slipping all the time

Falling in my mind

Ten times a day I catch myself

I want to stay alive.

(She stops. ROSCOE’S VOICE dovetails in from off right.)