Setting: Play opens inside a room in a funeral parlor. There is a row of folding chairs facing an empty coffin, with one upholstered chair placed dead center. An elderly man sits in the chair of honor, flanked by his grandson and grand­daughter. There is a cushioned kneeler resting against the base of the coffin. There are no flowers or memorial cards, only the bare furniture and paraphernalia associated with an empty parlor, such as an easel, rack for sympathy cards, and blank guest register, all awaiting the arrival of the next recently deceased guest. The grandchildren lock arms with their grandfather and sit very close to him, their heads resting on either one of his shoulders. There is a moment of silence before the grandfather speaks.

GRANDPA: I’ll always remember the exact day your grandmother died. That was your twentieth birthday, wasn’t it, Luke?

LUKE: Twenty-first, Grandpa.

GRANDPA: Oh, that’s a big one. How could I forget that? Did you have your first beer on that day?

LUKE: No. I had my first beer when I was fifteen. And it wasn’t on my birthday.

GRANDPA (slight chuckle): We did the same thing when we were young ... and underage. Found a busy bar and used phony proof. I remember the bartender laughing. He knew. But we checked the place out. All the boys in the neighborhood drank their first beer there. Rite of passage, I guess. Did you boys go to a bar, Luke?

LUKE: No. Three of us got a six pack of beer and snuck into the church basement. We watched each other to make sure we each drank every last drop. I couldn’t finish the second one, so I poured it down a drainhole. I don’t think my friends noticed. If they did, they never said anything. I remember feeling sick and lightheaded.

GRANDPA: Maybe your friends did the same thing ... in church? Luke! You bad boy! My own grandson! Weren’t you afraid that God would strike you dead, right then and there? Drinking beer in His house?

LUKE: Nah, we weren’t afraid of anything back then. I don’t remember believing in God at that time either.

GRANDPA (turns to Esther): What about you, Esther? When did you take your first drink, legal or otherwise?

LUKE: She still hasn’t tasted her first drink ... her first real drink-drink. She only has a thirst for pure, unadulterated cranberry juice. Nice and lip-puckering tart. She drinks that for breakfast, lunch and dinner ... and vitamins. She has a vitamin sandwich for lunch. You should know she’s a goody-goody and a health freak, Grandpa.

ESTHER (to her brother, good-naturedly): I’m three years younger than you but I’ll always be ten years older, you fool. Grow up.

GRANDPA: Now, now, children. Be nice.

LUKE: She’s only teasing, Grandpa. You know we always kid each other.

ESTHER: Grandpa, what were you going to tell us about the day Grandma died?

GRANDPA (flustered): Oh my God. I almost forgot. How stupid of me. (reaches for wallet in his coat pocket, takes out a bill, covers it with his hand and slips it to Luke) Here, Luke. Happy Birthday. You’re thirty, today. Another big one.

LUKE: Thirty-one, Grandpa. You don’t have to keep giving me money, you know. I have a good job. I am an adult.

Esther laughs. Luke leans over, winks at Esther and surreptitiously shows her the bill. She sticks her tongue out at him. They both laugh.

GRANDPA: What are you two laughing at? Do I amuse you?

ESTHER (poking her grandfather in the side): I know you always give Luke more than you give me. Everyone in the family knows he’s your favorite.

GRANDPA (defensively): He’s my favorite boy grandchild. You’re my favorite girl grandchild. Besides, boys need more money. They have to buy flowers, take girls out to dinner, that kind of thing.

ESTHER: Some things have changed, Grandpa. Especially relationships between men and women. Sometimes it’s the woman who asks the man out. It’s perfectly acceptable now.

GRANDPA (raises hand in protest): I don’t want to hear it. Luke is a gentleman. He should treat a young lady to dinner ... and pay the bill.

LUKE (flashes bill again at his sister): Hot town! Dinner’s on Grandpa tonight, and at a nice restaurant too.

ESTHER (waves hand at Luke; to Grandpa): What about Grandma?

GRANDPA: Oh, yes. I remember that day like it was yesterday. It wasn’t just the day so much. It was the whole sordid process ... the whole business of watching someone you love ... someone you spent a lifetime with ... gradually sink physically and mentally and then die an ugly death right before your eyes (takes out handkerchief and sniffles).

ESTHER (puts arm around him): You don’t have to tell us if it’s going to be too painful for you.

GRANDPA: No, I want to tell you. That’s part of the reason why I asked both of you to join me here today. (grabs hold of one hand of each grandchild)

LUKE: Go ahead, Grandpa. Tell us. We want to hear.

GRANDPA: She was laid out right in this very room.

ESTHER: I remember.

GRANDPA: A couple of days before she died, I remember how bitter and angry I was. It was such a sunny day. I was sitting by the bedroom window, watching the people below. It was a Saturday so all the shops were open. The streets were just teeming with people. Life itself just oozed up and down the avenue. Young. Old. Fat. Stupid. Skinny. Irritable. Happy. Tired. Bored. But alive. With much life to go, so it seemed. Every single one of them. Then I’d turn to look at Grandma, helpless, terminally ill, just staring off into space. Dying of cancer. Only a few days to go as it turned out. She was counting the days short. Not knowing exactly which day nor which hour. But soon. We both knew it had to be soon. I looked at a fly on the windowsill and wondered if that vile, dirty, useless little annoyance with wings would still be buzzing around the day after your grandmother was laid to her rest. Then our cat crept into the room and hopped onto the bed, sniffed around, then jumped off and left the room just as subtly as it arrived. All these signs of life and I remembered thinking how absurd human life is. That furry little beast will be playing with his catnip while the gravediggers are shoveling dirt on top of her coffin. Why? I thought, why? Why couldn’t we die together at the same moment? We shared a life. Why couldn’t we share death? I should’ve just pulled the shades down. (getting emotional). All those people out there. Not a one of them as nice and sweet and gentle as your Grandma. I didn’t want to see those people going into the diner to eat lunch, stuffing themselves with big sandwiches when she couldn’t even hold down a teaspoon of applesauce. Oh how I loved her and oh how she loved. Her love was boundless. She loved me. Your parents. You. Her love poured out of her soul like an echo in a poet’s song. I resented all of those people ... down there ... outside this chamber of death. Some older than her. Soaking up the sunshine. Living and breathing ... (voice trails off, lost in his thoughts).

ESTHER (after a moment, gently): Why are we here today, Grandpa?

GRANDPA: To be prepared. Mr. Gannon let me bring you here because when I die, you’ll be looking at me in a coffin just like this one (points). Might as well get used to it.

ESTHER (trying to lighten the moment): Do you want us to say nice things about you now, pretending you’re dead, just so you can hear them?

GRANDPA (mildly surprised): No.

ESTHER: I remember seeing a TV show like that once. Some character pretended she was dead just so she could hear people say nice things about her.

GRANDPA: Did it work?

ESTHER: No! Everyone hated this woman. They said the most horrible things. It was a bad day at Black Rock for her.

GRANDPA: Maybe that was good for her. She got a second chance to mend her ways.

ESTHER: Maybe. But you have nothing to worry about. Everybody loves you, especially us (leans over to look at Luke who is turned the other way). They could only say nice things about our Grandpa. Come on, is that what you want us to do today? That’s why you brought us here, isn’t it. To hear some of those nice things about yourself. Well, I got a whole bunch of nice things to say about you (sweetly). We’ll be here all day if you get me started.

GRANDPA (turns to Luke): Luke, turn around and look at Grandpa (Luke faces him directly). You look pale. Are you sick?

ESTHER: He was out drinking all night with his buddies.

GRANDPA: You should settle down. Find a girl and settle down. Bachelor life is going to kill you.

ESTHER: Grandpa, he still wishes he and his buddies were drinking six packs in the church basement. He’s a long way from finding a girl ... or a lady ... and finding out just what a lady expects from a man.

LUKE (leans across grandfather): Guess who else isn’t married yet.

ESTHER: So what. I’m not dumb enough to go to the clubs with the girls every night.

GRANDPA: Okay, you two, stop it. Let’s get back to business.

ESTHER (teasing): Grandpa, did you bring us here today to tell us the meaning of life?

GRANDPA: No. No. Nothing like that.

LUKE: But you could. You’ve already taught us a lot of things. You’ve lived a full life. Although Esther here seems to know everything. I don’t know how much more you can teach her.

GRANDPA: It’s just that I’m getting very old ... forgetful. I want to do this before ... before I forget.

LUKE: Do what, Grandpa?

GRANDPA: I want you two to be prepared for when I die. So there won’t be any surprises. I’m old and my days are numbered.

ESTHER: Do you know something we don’t know? Has the doctor told you something? Are you sick?

GRANDPA: No. No. No. I’m fit. I feel fine. (Luke leans over and puts his head between his legs. Grandpa casts a sidelong glance at him.) But statistics don’t lie. I’m not going to live forever. And you two might as well get used to it.

ESTHER: You are going to tell us the meaning of life, aren’t you? Luke takes handkerchief out of back pocket and wipes brow.

GRANDPA (laughs softly): I wish I knew.

LUKE (recovering): You know a lot, Grandpa.

GRANDPA: I found a few answers along the way, I guess. Some of it comes to you just by the sheer mass of years. Life is thrown at you and some of it sticks by default. If you live long enough, you learn things just by being marked present.

ESTHER: ... and experience counts too.

GRANDPA: Oh, for sure. I’ve had plenty of experience.

LUKE (still wiping his brow): I love those army stories you tell us. You know, the ones you let us know about whenever Grandma wasn’t around. Did she ever find out about those things?

GRANDPA (Taking note of his grandson, puts his hand on Luke’s head): Do you have a fever or something, Luke?

ESTHER (leans over and looks at her brother): Luke, when are you going to start taking care of yourself? You’re not seventeen anymore. You can’t go out drinking all night and then go to work with no sleep. When do you sleep?

LUKE: God, Esther, you’re giving Grandpa the wrong impression. I don’t go out drinking every night and you know it. We had a bachelor party for Eddie last night.

GRANDPA: Do I know Eddie?

LUKE: I don’t think so. He’s a friend from work. GRANDPA: Is he your age?

LUKE: Just about.

GRANDPA: So, why is he getting married, and you’re not?

LUKE: ‘Cause I haven’t met anyone as nice as Mom or Grandma yet.

GRANDPA: Good answer! Your sister’s right, though. You do look like crap right now (Luke leans over again and puts his head between his legs). Maybe we should call it quits for now so you can go home and get some sleep.

LUKE (suddenly raises his head; emphatically): No. Tell us an army story like you always do. I’ll be fine.

ESTHER (to her brother, concerned): Do you want to come to my apartment? I’ll make you some hot soup. And a birthday cake!

LUKE (smiling): That would be nice, Sis. After we’re done here, I’ll go.

ESTHER: Grandpa, you too. (hugs him) I’ll take care of both my men tonight. Luke’ll save his big dinner date for some other night.

LUKE (covers his face in his hands; barely audible): Right.

GRANDPA (smiling): I can’t tell you how happy I am that you two are so close. For a while there Grandma and I, and your parents, thought you two hated each other. You were always fighting ... you drew blood at times.

Esther and Luke both laugh.

ESTHER: But that’s natural. Brothers and sisters always fight. Especially those close in age.

LUKE: I always won.

ESTHER: Not always. Anyway, you were supposed to win. Boys are stronger than girls. And you’re a boy ... you’re still a boy. But you didn’t win in the brains department. We both know that.

LUKE: Just because I wasn’t psycho about my grades doesn’t mean you’re smarter than I am.

GRANDPA: Won’t you two ever stop fighting?

ESTHER: So, Grandpa, this is like a trial run, right?

GRANDPA: Sort of. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea, after all. It wasn’t fair of me to drag you into this place just because I’m preoccupied with my mortality. Whoever wants to come into a funeral parlor, unless they have to? I’m sorry. This place is depressing. Let’s get out of here. (starts to get up but Esther holds him down) This is no place for young people. (upset; slaps his hands on his knees) I don’t know what I was thinking! This is a totally dumb idea.

ESTHER (reassuringly): No. It isn’t dumb at all. It is vintage Grandpa. Always thinking of others. You care about us and don’t want us to worry so much when you die. That’s very thoughtful of you. I love you a whole lot.

GRANDPA (looks directly at Esther): I wonder what your Grandma would’ve thought about today. She’d probably tell me I was crazy.

ESTHER: I’m sure she would’ve done things a little differently if the situation was reversed. But when you think about it, Grandpa, Grandma’s death kind of prepared us for ...

GRANDPA: ... for mine?

ESTHER: In a way, yes. We know it has to happen some day (pats his arm). But not for a long, long time.

Luke leans over and falls to one knee. He quickly recovers, but his head starts swaying. He opens and closes his eyes rapidly, pushes his hair back and grips his skull tightly.

ESTHER (stands up and looks at her brother): My God, Luke, what is it? What’s wrong with you?

Suddenly, Luke jumps to his feet in a very excited state. He screams.

LUKE: I smell death! I smell death!

GRANDPA (apologetically): Old people get that way, Luke. It happens to us. No amount of deod ...

Luke’s whole body starts to rock back and forth, using one foot as a pivot.

ESTHER: Grandpa, get a doctor. Quick!

LUKE (grabs Grandpa’s jacket): No. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. My head! My head! I have to lie down.

Luke hops from the kneeler into the coffin and lies down, holding his head.

GRANDPA: Luke, stop, this isn’t funny!

ESTHER (starts crying excitedly): He’s not kidding. Oh Luke, Luke, what is it? Grandpa and Esther both step on the kneeler, leaning over Luke’s body.

GRANDPA: Luke. Say something, son. Talk to us. Grandpa and your sister are right here. Say something.

Grandpa slips down into a kneeling position and holds his head in his hands. Esther leans closer and listens for her brother’s heartbeat.