MARJORIE: We went down to the pound in the old Subaru. And there were a lot of very nice dogs. A cocker spaniel, and a noble gray pointer, and a very attractive mutt. But Tess picked the little French poodle, the little black poodle like a little sleeping shadow.

WALTER: It wasn’t Tess.

MARJORIE: What?

WALTER: It wasn’t Tess who picked her out. It was Damian.

MARJORIE: Damian?

WALTER: Our son, Damian.

MARJORIE (“I don’t remember but I want to”): Our son.

WALTER: He picked her out because she was just like the first Toni. He missed the first Toni.

TESS: There was a Toni before Toni?

WALTER: You hadn’t come along yet.

MARJORIE (To herself): “Damian.”

(Beat.)

WALTER: We sometimes worried about him. He spent a lot of time in his room. He liked snakes and lizards. We didn’t always know how to tell him, but we loved him so much. When he—when he died, you made sure he was buried next to Toni. Toni Two. I wasn’t sure but you insisted. At the funeral, you said he had loved her the best of all of us.

It was good of you to say that, after what happened. I was proud of you.

(Beat.)

Remember we had that photograph of the two of them, running on the beach? They had sand in their hair for a week. You put the photograph away, but you never forgot.

(Beat.)

Don’t you remember?

MARJORIE: I do now.

TESS: Me too.

(Beat. Then, deeply felt:)

MARJORIE: How I miss them.

WALTER: I didn’t mean to make you sad.

MARJORIE: You didn’t. All I can think is how nice.

How nice that we could love somebody.

(The Largo from “Winter” plays. The violins plucking high notes like icicles.

Lights.)

END OF PLAY

* The three pauses in this scene are much longer than in the previous ones—far too long to be natural. (Ten seconds? Longer?) Notably, none of the characters has the least discomfort with the silences. They simply sit very still until they’re ready to speak again. Placid.

Thoughts on the Primes

THOUGHTS ON THE PRIMES

In the world of this play, it is possible for the characters to believe that the Primes are their loved ones—except for the rare moments when the Primes incriminate themselves (“I don’t have that information”), when they’re stumped by something. There shouldn’t be anything robotic or creepy or less-than-human about the Primes’ behavior. That is why I haven’t identified them in the script as “Walter Prime,” “Marjorie Prime,” or “Tess Prime.” The technology is advanced enough that they aren’t broadcasting their inhumanness—and we, like the characters in the play, should be able to forget that they aren’t real.