Piano, please.
Cue piano intro.
[“I KNOW IT, BUT WHY CAN’T I SAY IT?”]
TINY:
Ever since way back when,
I’ve played with Barbies
and dreamed of Ken.
I’ve read Vogue from cover to cover
like an unrequited lover
waiting for his ticket
to the midnight ball.
My room is full of hoardings
of original cast recordings,
singing to me of somewhere,
and glory, and hope.
Even a blind man can see
what is going on with me . . .
but when I reach for the words
they’re not there.
I know it, but why can’t I say it?
Why am I hiding
the thing I know the most?
Who am I trying to be
when I’m denying I’m me?
Why is the truth
so stuck inside?
Hiding.
There’s not much chance of hiding.
And still I’m not confiding,
afraid of something I can’t name.
Careful.
I tell myself,
be careful.
But sometimes
careful
cares too much
about what people think
and what they might say
their careless remarks
about you being—
Tiny stops. He can’t say the word. In the silence, the CHORUS comes onstage. It is a chorus of gay kids—some of them the boyfriends from the second act, some of them young lesbians, including Lynda, the lesbian babysitter. One of them, to appear again later, is THE GHOST OF OSCAR WILDE.
CHORUS:
I know it, but why can’t I say it?
Why am I hiding
the thing I know the most?
TINY AND CHORUS:
Who am I trying to be
when I’m denying I’m me?
Why is the truth
so stuck inside?
Hiding.
There’s not much chance of hiding.
And still I’m not confiding,
afraid of something I can’t name.
Careful.
I tell myself,
be careful.
But sometimes
careful
cares too much
about what people think
and what they might say
their careless remarks
about you being—
TINY:
gay.
There’s a pause in the music as the word is felt. Tiny is both scared and exhilarated to have said it out loud. The chorus chimes in.
CHORUS:
If they’re truly your friends, you won’t lose them.
If they don’t get it at first, you’ll excuse them.
If they love you, they’ll want you to love.
If they love you, they’ll want you to be loved.
TINY:
I know it.
CHORUS:
So you must say it.
TINY:
I say it.
CHORUS:
Because it is your truth.
TINY:
Hiding.
CHORUS:
There is no meaning in hiding.
TINY:
Careful.
CHORUS:
Don’t be careless with your heart.
TINY:
If they’re truly my friends—
CHORUS:
—you won’t lose them.
TINY:
If they don’t get it at first—
CHORUS:
—you’ll excuse them.
If they love you, they’ll want you to love.
If they love you, they’ll want you to be loved.
TINY:
I know it, and so I will say it.
No more hiding
the thing I know the most.
I am trying to be
the me I know I can be.
So starting today
I will be openly
CHORUS:
Openly
TINY:
Openly
CHORUS:
Openly!
TINY:
Gay!
At the end of this song, Tiny should look very relieved.
ACT I, SCENE 6
The lights go out. When they come back up, we’ve returned to the stage setup we saw in the “Religion” scene—this time Mom and Dad are sitting on the bench, and Tiny is in front of them.
For this number, Tiny speaks all of his lines, Mom sings hers, and Dad remains silent.
[“STATING THE OBVIOUS”]
TINY (spoken):
Mom. Dad. I just wanted to let you know . . . I’m gay.
MOM (sung):
Oh, Tiny.
Our Tiny.
We know, Tiny.
It’s okay.
TINY (spoken):
I dream of boys. I fantasize about boys. When I jerk off, I think of boys. I mean, not that I jerk off or anything.
MOM (sung):
The strongest kind of love
is unconditional love.
The moment you were born,
I knew unconditional love.
TINY (spoken):
And while I’m coming out, I might as well tell you that time I told you Djane must have stolen your lipstick when she was over? Well, that was me. But I didn’t really like the way I looked in lipstick. At least not that color.
MOM (sung):
You are so complicated.
I can see.
But you’re good at heart.
And that’s what matters to me.
TINY (spoken):
I cheated at algebra. There’s a reason your vodka tastes watered down. I feed my peas to the dog every time you serve them. I just don’t want to hurt your feelings.
MOM (sung):
We’ll always love our Tiny
And we’ll always love your Tiny, too.
We can’t wait to witness
All the big, gay things you’ll do.
TINY (spoken):
I download porn on the family computer, but I burn it to disk so it won’t actually be on the hard drive. And you know how I told you I worked at the library at school to pay for my subscriptions to Vogue and Details and Men’s Health? Well, that was actually the birthday money Grandma sent me that she wanted me to spend on my “religious education.”