DANIELSON: I have no idea.

KHADIM: My father is in shipping.

DANIELSON: Yeah? So?

KHADIM: He’s got government contracts.

DANIELSON: So?

KHADIM: So it doesn’t matter what I do. I can do anything I want. Do you understand that?

DANIELSON: You can do anything you want.

KHADIM: Yeah, that’s right.

DANIELSON: That’s quite a lot of freedom.

Khadim shrugs.

DANIELSON: You can break the law, you can kill birds . . . and if things get hairy, you can always get Dad to come around and bail you out.

KHADIM: Yep.

DANIELSON: Except when he’s not around, right? What happens if you suddenly get thrown in jail and Dad’s in the Middle East?

KHADIM: Nobody’s throwing me into jail.

DANIELSON: No. Because you haven’t done anything wrong, have you?

KHADIM: No. I haven’t.

Danielson reaches back and grabs a length of PVC. He looks into it. He looks at Khadim through it like a telescope.

DANIELSON: Too bad none of those birds had a Dad like yours.

KHADIM: What?

DANIELSON: What do you think it must feel like to get stuffed into a tube like this?

KHADIM: I don’t know.

DANIELSON: Imagine what it must feel like.

KHADIM: No.

DANIELSON: I can imagine it must not feel very good. Someone grabs me and shoves me into a tube, and suddenly I can’t move, I can’t see, I can barely breathe. It hurts to move, it hurts to do anything, and I shit myself, I piss myself, I’m starving, I figure I’m going to be here forever. The other guys on either side of me, they die. It’s just me, alone in a tube, sick, crushed, clinging to life.

(leans forward) All so Khadim can make some money.

KHADIM: They’re birds.

DANIELSON: What wouldn’t you do?

KHADIM: What?

DANIELSON: For money. Where do you draw the line? Killing things, that’s okay. So . . . what wouldn’t you do for a buck?

No answer. Danielson opens the flute case and stares at the flute inside.

DANIELSON: What wouldn’t you stuff in a tube?

KHADIM: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

DANIELSON: Anything goes in the Wild World of Khadim Asmaan.

I wonder . . . What did your parents think?

KHADIM: About what?

DANIELSON: About your failed little import business.

KHADIM: They didn’t think anything.

DANIELSON: Did they say anything to you? Did they discipline you?

KHADIM: I couldn’t go skiing.

DANIELSON: You couldn’t go skiing?

KHADIM: I was supposed to ski in France this past winter break. That was my punishment.

DANIELSON: No skiing in France, well, yeah, that’s rough. They got you where it hurt.

KHADIM: I’m sorry you’re poor, Dr. Danielson. I’m sorry you only make seventy grand. That’s life. Some people have means, some do not.

Danielson smiles at Khadim. Stares at him.

DANIELSON: Isn’t that so true.

What did the headmaster say?

KHADIM: Who?

DANIELSON: At Eagleton. The headmaster. The guy who found your dead birds. The guy who expelled you. The guy who said to me, Discretion. What was his opinion of the whole thing.