THE SETUP
Vincent holds a vigil at the hospital bed of his best friend Byron, unconscious, and likely dying.
But between the two of them, they manage to conjure up a better time, when they were kids.
“…if I was going to be queer with anyone, it’d be you.”
The sound of an airplane flying by is overheard as emphasis shifts to another area with BYRON in a hospital bed and VINCENT sitting in a chair beside it.
The look on BYRON’s face is blank. His mouth hangs open a little; saliva trickles out the side. Some of his hair hangs down in his face.
VINCENT gets a tissue and wipes around BYRON’s mouth.
He tries, but can’t figure out how to hold his friend’s hand, or set it back in place.
Then he tries to move the hair out of BYRON’s face.
BYRON makes a noise, startling VINCENT.
But he leans back in and begins stroking BYRON’s hair.
The noise comes again, sounding almost content.
VINCENT (clears his throat, begins haltingly)
I need you back, you know. I mean, for basketball, if for nothing else. Cian’s lousy at it. It’s not even a challenge. And Gabby, well, she fights for the ball but I don’t exactly feel like I can push back. I mean, you’re not supposed to foul your girlfriend.
And there are things — I need to talk about — things you can’t say to a brother or a female. You — you just — understand me, you know? So you gotta snap out of it. I need you back.
Suddenly, BYRON hops out of bed, very boyish.
BYRON pulls a basketball out from under the hospital bed and tosses it to VINCENT, who also becomes boyish in his attitude.
They dribble away from the bed.
Night game.
BYRON
Your mom’s always so nice to me.
VINCENT
You’re always here. She calls you her third son.
BYRON
Really?
VINCENT
Yeah, so why shouldn’t she be nice to you?
BYRON
My mom’s never like that.
VINCENT
She always looks at me like I’m gonna steal something.
BYRON
I could never have you sleep over like this.
VINCENT
We’re, like, fifteen now. I mean, we must have some rights at this point.
BYRON
Freedom to hang out with who we want.
VINCENT
Exactly.
BYRON
My mom’s just suspicious, is all.
VINCENT
Duh.
BYRON
Not of you. Of us. Me, mostly. She doesn’t think we should be around each other so much. Like it isn’t natural.
VINCENT
Everybody hangs out with their friends.
BYRON
But in groups. We’re hardly ever part of a group. We’re alone alot.
VINCENT
So what?
BYRON
So she thinks we might be getting queer for each other or something.
VINCENT
Get out.
BYRON
No, seriously.
VINCENT
What planet is she living on?
BYRON
Pretty twisted one.
VINCENT
I’ll say.
BYRON
But I can kind of see what she means. Kind of. I mean, if I was going to be queer with anyone, it’d be you.
VINCENT
Cut it out.
BYRON
What?
VINCENT
You’re just being stupid, is all.
BYRON
It’s just that I trust you. It wouldn’t seem too weird. If it were you, you know what I mean?
VINCENT
It’d be weird. Trust me.
BYRON
So you don’t think —
VINCENT
What?
VINCENT stops, holds the ball.
BYRON
Nothing.
BYRON steals the ball from VINCENT and dribbles away.
VINCENT pursues him into the dark.
(photo: 1997-1998 production by The Subterranean Theatre Company (Los Angeles, CA); l-r, Mark Vanslow as Byron, and Tom Sonnek as Vincent)
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