We’re also reminded that people who puzzle us can be unlocked in a moment when we learn crucial matters about them. Victor had said, resentfully, that he was the one who raised niece Sarah. But he contributed more than that, we understand, when we find out that his college fund went to buy the house. He’s smart and could have been somebody, maybe a prestigious professor like Frank, not just a security guard, he laments.
Self-pitying, self-centered, demanding Frank is easily annoyed in this argumentative atmosphere. He complains: “I’m surrounded by idiots,” in contrast to the stimulating academic environment he’s accustomed to. Frank is eventually assaulted (with a humorous weapon) for his accumulated sins (you can probably guess by whom). Before he and Gina leave, in a sweet, nearly redeeming gesture, he says he can’t leave without saying goodbye to his attacker. Addressing all of them, he meekly says he knows about the need to say you’re sorry.
Young Sarah, who is just starting out on the road her elders have tramped with varying progress, has the last word in this quietly insightful play. To Victor, who says he’s “so tired,” she advises, “You’ve just got to get through today.” Amen, sister.