Mom, Dad, and Sheila are, in their own ways and for their own
DAD: Where's Leo?
MOM: (holding a package; stricken) It's not Leo.
MOM: It's from Leo.
(DAD takes the package to examine.)
SHEILA: He's not coming?
MOM: I don't know.
DAD: It says here it came open in shipment... Postal Reclamation Center...
SHEILA: I'll just bet he's not coming, the little stinker.
MOM: So open it.
DAD: I'm trying. It's taped every which way.
(MOM takes the envelope to the table and commences prying it open with the garden clippers.)
SHEILA: I know what it is.
SHEILA: (mysteriously) Go ahead. You open it.
(From inside the envelope, MOM pulls out a thick manuscript – 638 pages thick. A pause.)
DAD: What is it?
MOM: I don't know yet.
DAD: Is there a note or anything?
(DAD takes up the manuscript.)
DAD: Is it a book he wrote?
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