Still speechless, MARIGOLD fetches the popcorn. MARCY eats daintily, one kernel at a time. They watch. BRO in particular watches, fascinated.

GRANDMA: Marcy, is there any service we can do for you here?

MARCY: No thank you. Not right now. (To BRO:) I just want to go back to the land now. Is it okay?

BRO: Fine.

MARCY: In the Cadillac?

BRO: Marcy. What on earth are you talking about, Marcy?

MARCY: You said you were going to get a Cadillac.

BRO rises, heads for the sink, tosses his cigarette into it, washes his face…chuckling sarcastically all the while.

BRO: I know you’re stupid, but can’t you at least see this much about the situation? I can’t go back.

MARCY: Well, can’t you drive back in the Cadillac?

BRO: Marcy, I don’t have the Cadillac yet. They cost money. I don’t have money. I meant I’d get a life—get a job, get back to where I was, a place, my old honey Suzu, and someday get a Cadillac. None of this actually involved you.

MARCY: Do you have enough gas?

Pointing at MARCY, BRO addresses the others.

BRO: I left because of that reason.

MARCY: What reason? What reason?

BRO: Whatchamacallit, hell, you know goddamn it!…You can’t talk to somebody who can only think one thought at a time. Believe me, trust me on this, I’ve made a very careful study of human thought processes. I should write a book. But nobody’d believe me.

The dog’s at his feet.

DOG: Bark bark! bark bark bark!

BRO (to dog): I do not have time to get around and play! Goddamn it now! DOESN’T ANYBODY SENSE THAT?

Silence. CASS wakes; moaning, moaning, moaning…struggles to his knees. Stares bleary-eyed at MARCY.

MARCY: You woke up.

CASS: I don’t exactly know about that.

CASS crawls to the kitchen sink. Climbs upright, drinks and drinks at the tap. Splashes his face, turns around—looks at MARCY. Splashes again. Staggers over to the recliner. Sits himself. Rubs his face. Looks. Rubs his face. Stares. Pause.

MARCY: You’re awake.

CASS: If you say so. But I think an apparition like you would say just about anything. Boy. Ain’t you something? You are something. Wow.

MARCY: I had a spiritual makeover at the Fantasia Fair.

CASS: Did you? I got no idea what those words could possibly ever mean. Does anybody know what those words are supposed to mean? (Rifling his shirt pocket.) I got one two three four cigarettes. Who’s got a light…

MARCY: Could we go back pretty soon, Bro?

Pause. CASS stares afresh at MARCY.

CASS: Is this—?…Wow. Fantastic!…Are you the one living with Bro? Or he’s living with you, I mean? Is that who you are?

MARCY: We live on the land I own. He lives there and I live there. That’s who I am.

CASS: You got here all on your own? All the way from Redding?

MARCY (delighted): I have to tell everybody everything every time!

CASS: Oh—sorry…

MARCY: That’s okay. I’m getting pretty good at it!