A bedroom. The decor is bland and uninteresting in an extra-bedroom-in-a-middle-class-home sort of way, but with signs that someone lives here. The bed is made, but there is clutter—perhaps a bit of laundry dropped on the floor, an empty glass or two, a stack of gym equipment, CDs, and video games. A Maxim by the bed. These are mixed in with contrasting items—framed photos, delicate figurines, floral china, kitschy scenic art, lace—pieces the person owning the video games certainly didn't purchase.
Marshall opens the door timidly, peeking into the room before entering. He shuts the door behind him quietly. We get the sense that maybe this is not somewhere he is supposed to be. He picks up one of the frames. Places it face down. The door opens, startling him.
Marshall opens the door timidly, peeking into the room before entering. He shuts the door behind him quietly. We get the sense that maybe this is not somewhere he is supposed to be. He picks up one of the frames. Places it face down. The door opens, startling him.
LU
Marsh? Sorry, man. Ron asked me to tell you to bring down his hat if you see it.
MARSHALL
He told me twice already.
LU
Guess Dan borrowed it or something. (Hurries to embrace Marshall awkwardly.) How’s things? Circumstances aside.
MARSHALL
Uh... (his phone buzzes in his pocket, he pulls it out, opens it, shuts it, puts it back in his pocket)... good. Fine. You?
LU
I’m in LA.
MARSHALL
I heard.
LU
Been there a couple years.
MARSHALL
What are you doing out there?
LU
Teaching yoga. I know, right? But it was like, there was this girl. Can I help you look?
(Lu looks around. Maybe peeks under the bed. Marshall is not really looking, just vaguely shifting about.)
LU
This is creeped up, dude.
MARSHALL
It’s not pleasant.
(Lu becomes more comfortable searching the room while Marshall types on his phone.)
LU
Sylvia come with you?
MARSHALL
(distracted)
No.
LU
She stay with the kids?
MARSHALL
No. (Beat.) She stayed with her parents. So you would think her father wouldn’t text me every five minutes, but you’d be wrong.
LU
Your father-in-law texts?
MARSHALL
Like a 13-year-old. Kids are swimming at the hotel with Dana.
(Lu finds a sheet of paper in a drawer. Pulls it out. Examines it.)
MARSHALL
What are you doing? Put that back.
LU
Sorry.
MARSHALL
Have some respect for the deceased for God’s sake.
(Beat.)
MARSHALL
What was that?
LU
I didn’t see.
MARSHALL
What the hell was it.
LU
A roster.
(Marshall lurches over and grabs it. Looks it over. Throws it back at Luke. Checks his phone.)
LU
(openly looking at the paper now)
Oh, man, all these guys. Tim and Ricky. I forgot about these guys. He’s got Stevie Waters on third. (Beat.) You’re in right field, dude. That’s funny.
MARSHALL
I don’t give a poop what position my dead brother gave me in his fantasy baseball game, alright?
(Beat.)
LU
A poop, huh?
MARSHALL
I have kids. Fuck you.
(Marshall’s phone buzzes. Ignoring it, he sits down next to Lu on the bed.)
MARSHALL
Which one was Ricky?
LU
The short one with all the ink. He was on the boat with us the time Dan—
MARSHALL
(interrupting)
I remember.
LU
MARCO!
(Lu waits for Marshall to laugh. Marshall doesn’t.)
MARSHALL
Not now.
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