Drawn Up From Deep Places

I will, sir. Are we—is it ready?

FATHER

Of course. Are you?

JACK

. . . Certainly.

His FATHER snorts and throws back a sheet, revealing the corpse they are about to dissect.

FATHER

Let’s begin, then.

JACK

(After a pause)

That’s a woman.

FATHER

How astute.

(Impatient)

It was a woman, yes. Now it is merely a subject, the same as

any other you’ve dissected thus far.

JACK

Mother would have disagreed.

FATHER

Your mother is dead.

JACK

So I recall.

(Turns to go)

Goodbye, sir.

FATHER

Stop where you are.

JACK does. His FATHER CROSSES to him.

FATHER

I must admit I don’t entirely understand such squeamishness;

how can one possibly expect to operate on a live patient, if one