[Kathleen, Irene, & Mary have traveled to a dilapitated motel room in Reno. They are going through a carton of their father's things, while Albert himself -- part ghost, part memory -- looks on.]
Irene? Do you think he knew?
Maybe. I dunno.
But if he knew? Why didn't he call us? Talk with us one more time? (as though to ALBERT) Why didn't you call us?
I never knew what to say to you girls.
Don't make yourself crazy, Mare.
He was sick, wasn't he.
Who knew? You couldn't drag the guy to a doctor.
A man shouldn't whine and complain about every little discomfort.
I hadn't called in months.
Yeah, well. He wasn't Mr. Communication either, you know.
Yeah, and even if you did call? He never said anything on the phone anyway.
Nothing new here. Same old thing.
Yeah, it was like dialing the Weather Channel.
A bit nippy for April. More snow than usual.
The Farmer's Almanac.
The ground needs the moisture. I figure 2 more major snowfalls before the weather breaks.
Oh, Dad.
Then the wildflowers'll be out. Time to hit the high country.
Maybe we should take his ashes up to the high country. The high Sierra camp. He used to love it up there.
Hey, that's better than my idea.
What?
Sprinkling him through all the casinos.
Irene!
And the pool halls.
We could leave a little bit in each of the ashtrays.
Or we could cut a hole in our pockets, and let it kind of trickle out and grind him into the carpets.
(KATHLEEN & IRENE laugh.)
You guys are gross!
Okay, okay. Seriously. We do need to talk about arrangements. So. Which funeral home did you call, Mare?
(MARY and IRENE look at each other, guiltily.)
Um...
You told them no casket, right? Greedy bastards are always trying to sell you what you don't need.
I...didn't call one yet.
What?
See, I went to his room instead, and I got all involved looking for his stuff, and then Irene got here, and
Well, then where is he?
At the...at the morgue.
Jesus!
I just didn't...
He's still in a fucking drawer with a toe-tag?!
(MARY starts to weep quietly.)
Hey, don't yell at her. She's been through plenty today. You think it's such a picnic identifying a body, you go do it.
Ah, great. That's just great. And you of course were too busy to get anything done. You had more important business, I'm sure, at the casinos.
Fuck you, Kathleen. I came straight here from the airport. I've been with Mary all evening.
Doing what? Playing cards?
What does it matter which slab he's on tonight? He's dead, for Christ's sake! He's dead!
(MARY stands, wringing her hands, as though she is seeing ALBERT's body laid out in the morgue.)
I just couldn't stand to go there and look at him. In that terrible place.
You don't have to. He wouldn't want you to.
I don't want you thinking about me like that. If I could've had someone cremate me before you got here, I'd have done it, believe me.
Someone's going to have to do it, Irene. They won't release a body to the funeral home unless someone's identified it.
Slip a twenty to the woman at the front desk. Maybe she'd go.
Mary doesn't have to, though. I'm sorry for yelling. You did enough. It's you or me, Irene.
Okay. We'll cut cards for it.
What?!
Cards! Luck. High card stays here and calls the funeral home, low card goes to claim the body.
Huh.
Hey, that's the fairest way, right?
Jesus. Okay.
(IRENE reaches into her pocket for ALBERT's deck.)
Fair? When someone starts to preach about what's fair, check the deck.
Hey, wait a minute, let me see that...that's Dad's marked deck! You little cheater!
Oh shit. HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!
(IRENE laughs and feints as KATHLEEN chases her around the table.)
Give me those!
HA-HA!
I haven't seen those in years!
(KATHLEEN & IRENE run around the table, laughing. As they run, lights change and they are children. IRENE runs into the bathroom and slams the door. KATHLEEN pounds on it. MARY puts her fingers in her ears, rocking. She is 5. ALBERT kneels down by her.)
Your sisters are pretty noisy critters, huh, Mary Sunshine?
Why are they always yelling? They hurt my ears.
Copyright 1995, Linda Eisenstein
"The play unfolds through a taut fusion of memory and current action, expressed with caustic humor, nostalgia and conflict-driven intensity. And Eisenstein's dialogue is first-rate, sounding truthful as well as fresh and playable."
- The Modesto (CA) Bee
This ensemble piece for four voices plays like a string quartet, with the performers playing off each other in various pairings. Albert's three daughters try to deal with his death and the impact this often difficult man had on their lives...Well done."
- Stage Directions
"In the theater, when the talk is good -- and Eisenstein's is very good -- then talk becomes action. Characters flower. Layers peel back to reveal interesting depths beneath interesting depths....Three The Hard Way is quite easy to watch."
- City Beat (full review)
"Connection -- its vital importance and the consequences when it is missing -- gives this play emotional intensity that hints at spiritual meanings...In loss there is discovery and perhaps even self-realization."
- Chagrin (OH) Herald Sun
Interview, New Edgecliff Production (Cincinnati)
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