“PERSONAL BELONGINGS”

Pre-Production - 2013

Screenplay by Christina Kline and Patrick Best

Based on a short story by Patrick Best

Scene: 1A

EXT. BEACH – NIGHT

The screen is still black. We hear sounds of gasping, panting and laughing.

As the camera pull out, we see two MEN on the beach, horsing around, and wrestling with each other in a drunken, stoned, clumsy way. TOM (30) is the more confident and dashing with his looks. He looks like a former athlete. RICK (32) is a bit out of shape, scruffy and slower moving.

RICK (V.O.)
You spend so much time surrounding yourself by others; whether you really enjoy their company or not, they seem to provide a crucial kind of comfort… a distraction from your essential loneliness. Even if they annoy you or fundamentally offend you, at least you feel attached to something. They give you meaning because you forget that they would go on existing without you… You live in the delusion that you’re not really alone.
(beat)
Until you become impregnated with a secret. At that moment, all of the time slows down. Hours that should just take minutes stretch out into endless days. All you’re doing, whether consciously or not, is waitng – waiting for something to finally happen, to burst the bubble, for someone to come along and steal the secret away. But there you are, holding it in the dark, alone, silent. Every second becomes a chance to unburden yourself from the terrible isolation you now live in. You’re waiting in lines and waiting in traffic; waiting for the clock to finish with your work day; waiting for the week to come to an end; waiting for birthdays or for Christmas, for something to tip you over and let the secret spill out like a gift that will help you connect with someone again… bring back that magical delusion. You’re waiting for someone to step in and say, “It’s okay, I know.” You’re waiting for the day when you don’t have to try so hard to deny your solitude; when time just stops, when you no longer have to harbor the secret … when the secret finally dies.

SECENE: 2

EXT. HOUSE – DAY

A Ford minivan is in the driveway of a modest middle class home in a suburban neighborhood. The grass in the front lawn is a bit overgrown. There are a few children’s toys strewn across the yard and along the walkway.

CUT TO:

INT. KITCHEN – MORNING

ALICE (31), is classically beautiful but visibly fatigued by responsibility. She’s shuffling about the bright, cluttered kitchen, already in the midst of her day’s craziness.

MADELEINE “MADDY” (3), a beautiful girl with unkempt curls, and STUART “STU” (2), her excitable little brother, are wreaking havoc in the kitchen. Maddy is sitting on her knees in a chair at the kitchen table playing with the pat of butter and syrup on her pancakes. Spread out in front of her are some paper and crayons, which she intermittently grabs with gooey hands to draw. Stu is in a high chair making a loud mess with food, getting them all over himself and the surrounding area.

Alice is getting agitated. She takes the food from the baby.

ALICE
Stuart, if you’re not going to eat it, I’m putting it away. It’s not to play with.

Stu whines, looking over at Maddy’s mess with intent. Alice puts the food back in front of him. She licks a drop of syrup of the back of hand.

Alice begins making a grocery list, going through items in the fridge. She begins taking out some spoiled food stuff, placing it on the kitchen table. She realizes that Maddy has decorated a pile of checks with syrup and color.

ALICE (CONT’D)
Maddy… did you hear what I just said to your brother? I mean, I just said it. Where do you think he gets it from?

Alice looks up at the ceiling and yells.

ALICE (CONT’D)
Rick! I need you down here!

CUT TO:

INT. BEDROOM

From the side of a ruffled bed, Rick looks up at the clock. It’s 9:15 a.m.

CUT TO:

INT. KITCHEN

Rick stumbles into the kitchen, half awake. He looks terrible. He kisses Alice on the cheek.

RICK
Mornin’.

Alice, with a look of distaste on her face, notices his smell of alcohol.

ALICE
(looking away)
I take it you called in sick this morning?

Rick brushes his hand across Stu’s head, the baby delighted to see him. He pours himself a cup of coffee. Drinks it black.

RICK
(to Maddy)
Hey, princess. How’s my pretty girl this fine mornin’?

ALICE
You can’t keep missing work, Rick. They’re gonna end up firing you.

MADDY
Daddy, don’t let them fire you. You’ll get burned up.

RICK
(smiles)
I won’t get burned, princess. Mommy’s just being silly.

ALICE
(to Rick)
I had to pay the phone bill yesterday. It was $163 this month.

RICK
I get it, Alice. I’m not going to get fired.

MADDY
Mommy, Daddy’s not going to get on fire.

RICK
(Rick winks at Maddy.)
That’s right, Mommy.

Maddy starts scratching lines onto a beastly figure she’s drawn. Rick slumps into a chair next to her.

MADDY
Look, Daddy. The dinosaur is getting on fire.

RICK
Uh huh. I bet that hurts.

ALICE
(to Rick)
Since you decided to stay home today, you can keep an eye on the kids while I run some errands.

Stu interrupts with a belch of food all over the baby tray and cries out with relieved glory.

Rick has lifted his head from the table just enough to dig into Maddy’s pancakes.

MADDY
Hey! My pancakes, Daddy!

Rick nods with a mouthful of pancakes.

RICK
(smiling at Maddy)
Mmmhmmmfph!

MADDY
(to Alice)
Daddy’s not ‘posed to eat my pancakes.

ALICE
(to Rick)
And you need to make some more pancakes. The batter’s next to the stove.

Alice exits.

Rick nods, still eating.

MADDY
There’s batters by the stove, Daddy.

Rick, nodding, stands, eyes still half-shut, and moves to the stove.

MADDY (CONT’D)
How many pancakes are you going to make, Daddy?

RICK
How many do you want?

MADDY
(excited by this question)
Umm… I want 8, Daddy.

RICK
Eight? You can’t eat eight pancakes, Maddy.

STU
(holding up three fingers on his outstretched right hand)
Eight!

MADDY
(laughing)
Yes I can! I want mermaid pancakes and also with sharks and…

RICK
Okay.

MADDY
(excited)
Yes, Daddy, please. I want mermaid pancakes. Eight.

STU
Mer-maze!

RICK
I said okay, but I’m going to make Little Mermaids. And two baby sharks.

MADDY
(really excited)
Yes, Daddy! Little mermaids and baby sharks! I love you, Daddy!

RICK
I love you, too, sweetie pie.

CUT TO:

Rick takes Stu, still in his high chair and places him directly in from of the TV. He then drags Maddy, still in her chair, in front of the TV, as she holds all the drawing and crayons in two fists. He places a huge stack of pancakes in a TV tray in front of her.

Rick, shuffling through DVDs, finds one and puts it on the TV. We hear the sounds of Disney animation.

INT. OFFICE/BABY ROOM – DAY

As soon as the children are fully engrossed, Rick walks into the adjoining room with his coffee and sits at a desk in front of a computer monitor. He maneuvers and clicks the mouse to open a file on the desktop. When the file opens a white page appears with nothing more than a title printed at the top: “The Good Life”. He sits there, still in his boxers, stubble on his face and messy hair, staring blankly at the screen.

He reaches for the cordless phone and punches in a number. We hear a voice:

OPERATOR (V.O)
Hey baby. You’ve reached Lucky Girls. We feature the finest in intimate conversations. What’s your pleasure? Lesbian, Barely Legal, Asian…

Suddenly Maddy yells from the other room.

MADDY (V.O.)
Daddy! Daddy!

RICK
(to the operator)
Hold on. Hold on a minute.

Rick puts his hand over the receiver and leans back to look at Maddy.

RICK (CONT’D)
What is it, Maddy?

MADDY
There’s a nice shark and it’s not gonna eat Nemo!

RICK
That’s good, princess.

Rick puts the phone back to his ear again.

RICK (CONT’D)
Sorry about that.

OPERATOR (V.O.)
No problem, baby. You’ve reached Lucky Girls. We feature the finest in intimate encounters. What’s your pleasu…

RICK
(cutting the Operator off)
I’m looking for either Jade or Tiffany.

OPERATOR (V.O.)
Of course, just a moment.

Rick waits.

TIFFANY (V.O.)
(sensually)
Hey baby. This is Tiffany.

RICK
Hi Tiffany. How’s it going?

TIFFANY
(recognizing his voice)
Oh, David! Hi sweetie. It’s going wonderful. How are you… feeling… today?

RICK
Pretty good, I guess.

TIFFANY
How’s our book coming along?

Rick stares at the empty page.

RICK
You know… some days are better than others. It’s been really tough lately though. Not a lot of time to write.

TIFFANY
I know I’m going to see my David’s book on the shelves at Barnes & Noble someday soon. I’m still in the book, right?

RICK
Of course. You’re one of the main characters.

TIFFANY
(giggles)
That’s so exciting. I can’t wait.

PAUSE

TIFFANY (CONT’D)
David?

RICK
Yes, Tiffany?

TIFFANY
You’re soooo talented… Soooo creative…

RICK
Thank you. You help me a lot. You help me find the words.

TIFFANY
(purring)
Mmm… David?

RICK
Yes.

TIFFANY
Do you need some inspiration? Do you want me to give you some… inspiration… David?

RICK
(cheeks flush)
Yes… I need inspiration.

Call waiting beeps on the line. Rick looks at the phone and recognizes the number.

RICK (CONT’D)
Dammit. Hold on a second, Tiff. I got another call I have to take.

Rick clicks over.

RICK (CONT’D)
Hey!
(clears his throat)
What’s up, Tom?

TOM
Hey man! What is up wit chew, my brother? Figured you’d be at work already.

RICK
I took the day off. I woke up with a splitting headache.

TOM
Where I work, a headache that keeps you home from work will get your ass fired from work.

RICK
Bullshit. Not when you work for your daddy.

TOM
So what are you doing right now?

Rick looks down at the page again.

RICK
Nothing… just watching the kids. Alice went to the store.

He leans back to make sure they’re still there. They are.

TOM
Listen, Dad got this condo place at the beach for the weekend and Mindy and I are going. I’m sure you and Alice could use a little getaway, too.

RICK
To be honest, the last thing I want to do is get away with Dad and Betty. I especially don’t want him riding my ass about what a total fuck up I am.

TOM
Come on, bro, he’s not that bad.

RICK
(pause)
I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.

TOM
Don’t give me that shit. Besides, what else are you gonna do this weekend? Wax the porpoise?

MONTAGE OF RICK’S POTENTIAL WEEKEND:

Maddy jumping around Rick as he tries to write while Stu wails.

Rick runs over a stuffed toy with the lawnmower, cotton flying everywhere.

Rick sitting in front of Stu on a training toilet, waiting.

CUT TO:

INT. OFFICE/ BABY ROOM – DAY

RICK
(remembering the other line)
Let me call you back, I’ve got a call on hold. I’ll talk to Alice and call you back.

TOM
Listen, it’s done. We’re picking you up at eight on Saturday morning. Be ready.

RICK
Fine. Gotta go.

RICK (CONT’D)
(clicks over)
You still there?

TIFFANY
Of course, David. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.

He leans back and looks into the living room. The kids are still planted in front of the TV. He reaches his hand into his pants.

RICK
I know.

CUT TO:

SCENE 3

EXT. DAY – RICK’S HOUSE

Alice’s mother, DOREEN, is standing outside holding Stu, bouncing him up and down. Maddy’s running around the yard twirling a scarf. Rick is outside, barefoot, smoking a cigarette. Rick and Doreen stand in silence, glancing at each other every few moments, as if searching for something to say… nothing comes to mind. After a moment, Tom drives up in a brand new, shiny red convertible. Doreen is visibly impressed. Tom honks the horn.

TOM
Morning! Can you believe this day?

MINDY (27), Tom’s wife, sits next to Tom, smiling and cheerful. She is pretty, fun-loving girl who’s happy with her station in life.

Doreen walks up to the car, still holding Stu, as Tom get out.

Doreen
(smiling, admiringly)
You certainly are doing well for yourself, Tom.

TOM
(pridefully)
They just delivered these to the lot. I knew I had to have it when I saw it.

Mindy gets out and stands at the door of the car, talking loudly to Doreen over the hood.

MINDY
(smiling)
I told him he better let me take it for a spin every once in a while.

TOM
You better be nicer to me then.
(towards Doreen)
I may just have Dad pull another one, something more suited to you.

Doreen is smiling in admiration of the couple. Alice briskly exits the door, arms full of bags, brushing past Rick, who’s been observing the scene from a distance. He exhales smoke out of his nose slowly. Alice stops and turns to him.

ALICE
(sarcastic, under her breath)
If you want, I’ll take my mother instead and you can stay with the kids.

From Rick’s POV, we watch Alice go to the car and Tom takes her bags. She kisses Stu and thanks her mother.

Suddenly, Maddy rushes up to Rick – the scarf now wrapped around her head – and passes him a pair of flip flops.

MADDY
Here’s your flippies, Daddy!

CUT TO:

SCENE 3A

INT. TOM’S CAR – DAY

Tom is driving and Rick sits in the seat next to him. Alice and Mindy are in the back seat. There are two conversations going on at once.

TOM
(to Rick, boastfully)

And so I say to him, “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em!”

MINDY
(to Alice, beaming)
Then the second one we saw had four bedrooms, but that was on a lot with no lake. And I’d really prefer a lake, you know? Especially since Tommy’s gonna be getting a little boat for us from the new dealership. (to Tom, smiling) Right, honey?

TOM
(to Rick, smiling)
She’s been all over me with this house hunting stuff.

ALICE
(to Mindy)
When do you plan to move?

RICK
How’s he supposed to join ‘em?

MINDY
Well, I’m hopin’ by spring at the least so that way I can start with my tennis instruction – did I mention there are tennis courts in Merrigold Estate, too?

TOM
He buys ‘em out!

ALICE
No, I didn’t know you played tennis.

RICK
That’s not joining them. That’s taking them over.

MINDY
I don’t! I’ve just always wanted to learn how.

TOM
(ecstatic)
Think about it, Rick. We’d have all the business in town. If you buy a car or a truck you’d be buying from us.

MINDY
(to Tom, excited)
Oh, honey! Wouldn’t it be fun if we all played tennis together? Couple against couple?

TOM
Yeah, baby, it’s doubles.

ALICE
(to Alice)
It’s a great entertaining kind of place, you know?

RICK
can he afford to do that?

ALICE
Sounds really nice, Mindy.

TOM
(laughing excitedly)
Oh, bro, you’ve got no idea how much our old man is worth these days.

MINDY
Oh, it is. I can’t wait to have y’all out to see it.

RICK
No, I guess I don’t.

The car pulls up to the condo.

CUT TO:

SCENE: 1B

EXT. NIGHT – BEACH

Tom and Rick on the beach, laughing.

TOM
(in between hard laughs)
I never saw you look so embarrassed!

RICK
(laughing)
Shut up! I was drunk as hell. I don’t what made me think riding a bicycle naked was good idea. I must have looked like a lunatic.

TOM
Damn straight, you did. But I couldn’t stop laughing. When that cop stopped you, he looked like he didn’t know what the hell to do. I think he just wanted to shoot you and kick you into the woods.

RICK
(laughs)
I had to sit buck-assed naked in the back of the cop car til Mandy brought me some clothes. I still hear about that night every once in a while.

Their laughter dwindles and a pregnant silence settles in. Tom light a cigarette.

TOM
You remember our collie, Poochie, right?

RICK
Of course.

TOM
We put her down last week.

RICK
Damn, Tom. Why didn’t you call me?

TOM
It all happened so fast. The vet told us she had some kind of cancer all over. She hadn’t been eating for week or two. She was eat-up with it.

RICK
Damn, man, I’m sorry. That sucks.

TOM
Yeah, Mindy took it real hard. Poochie went with her everywhere. Now all she’s talking about is getting another dog… and that house, of course.

RICK
Probably a good thing to get another one as soon as possible… before she gets too lonely.

TOM
Maybe… but I loved that damn dog. I don’t think I’ll ever love another one like that.

RICK
Could be worse. She could be pushing you to have kids.

They laugh, forcibly. Tom takes a large gulp of beer. Stares out at the moon-lit ocean.

TOM
I guess I never realized how attached I was to that damn dog.

CUT TO:

SCENE 4

INT CONDO – EARLY EVENING

HOWARD (61) sits in a recliner, feet up. He wears a starched baby blue, short-sleeved button-down and khaki shorts. His legs – the color of burned-out fluorescent light bulbs, and almost as thin – stick out of a pot belly of considerable girth, like toothpicks thrust into a giant olive. He holds a bottle of Bud Light in one hand, while the other hand shakes a convenience store bag of salted peanuts.

BETTY (43) is sitting, sucked back into an ugly overstuffed chair. Her appearance is overly done, with makeup, gaudy clothes and jewelry, and dyed bleach blonde hair. Her clothing looks expensive, but a little too flashy for a trip to the beach. There is an ashtray on the table next to her, pressed with cigarettes, and she adds a new one to the pile.

As she lights another cigarette, Betty addresses Tom and Mindy. They’re sitting on the couch in front of her.

BETTY
(smoking, talking loudly)
You have to some pair of lucky duckies to win that Georgia Pick 5 two times in a row! I just couldn’t believe my ears when I heard that!

MINDY
How come you never hear about what those folks do with all their money?

BETTY
(seriously)
Well, that’s just the thing, honey. After the government gets a hold of those winnings, you’d have to cash in a dozen winning Pick 5s ‘fore you’d have any real money! The Megamillions is better, but there’s like a trillion to one chance you’ll win that one.

She takes a long drag.

BETTY (CONT’D)
Which is why my idea is heck of a lot better than playing the lottery, cause those tax buzzards can’t get their claws on your money!

HOWARD
(smiling)
Uh, oh. Here she goes. Don’t get her started.

Howard sits up in the chair.

HOWARD (CONT’D)
I don’t know why you need to do all this stuff, Betty. You do know ol’ How’s dealerships are doing pretty well, right.

TOM
(to Betty)
That’s the part I don’t understand. I mean, it’s still income. Why don’t you have to pay taxes on the money?

BETTY
You see, shug, the money’s charity. You can’t tax charity.

Sitting in a lounge chair next to Alice, Rick has been staring, mouth agape, at the scene. Disgusted, he rolls his eyes.

RICK
(under his breath)
Charity for your bank account.

Rick gets out of his chair and walks towards the kitchen.

ALICE
(to Rick)
Get me a glass of wine, baby?

Howard yells to the kitchen.

HOWARD
Grab me another beer, Rick.

Tom gets up and walks toward the kitchen.

TOM
I’ll grab you one, Dad.

MINDY
(to Betty)
Seems like it’d take a long time to raise as much money as you’d win in a lottery. And you don’t even have to work for that! All you gotta do is buy a ticket when you pop into the Chevron station.

BETTY
Honey, now hold your horses, and I’ll tell you how it works.

Rick walks out of the kitchen with his scotch and a glass of wine. He walks back to Alice, passes her the glass, then walks out towards the open door to the patio.

BETTY (CONT’D)
(to Mindy)
See, you get about 15 people under you, each one of ‘em with their own people, and the money starts flowing bigger than the Mississippi River. Trust me, you’ll be celebratin’ your first anniversary in Hawaii… or Rome or Paris if you want to.

Mindy squeals like she just got a pony for her 8^th birthday.

MINDY
Paris! Definitely Paris!

Tom walks back in, passes Howard a beer and resettles with his own beer next to Mindy. She grabs his arm and starts tugging on it.

MINDY
Wouldn’t that be so romantic, baby? To go to Paris?

TOM
(to Rick)
What about you, bro? You probably know some people at work who’d get into this thing, being marketing dogs and all.

RICK
I guess that all depends on what you’re trying to market.

BETTY
(condescendingly)
Listen, shug, there are people in this world who are happy with their eight bucks an hour existence. This ain’t for them. This is for folks with big dreams.

RICK
(combative)
Oh, of course not. An honest living isn’t worth a shit anymore.

Rick shoots a provocative glare at Betty.

RICK (CONT’D)
This new idea anything like your “feed the starving children in Africa” project?

Betty shifts nervously in her chair.

RICK (CONT’D)
You sure did throw some fancy fundraising parties at the Country Club. And the Convention Center. And the Mayor’s house… Great photos of you in the Herald, too. But, you know, I can’t seem to recall hearing anything about those hungry kids getting fed. How did that all turn out, Betty?

An awkward silence falls over the room. Betty’s eyes become slits. Tight, lightning-shaped wrinkles bunch up around her pursed lips; she wants to cuss him up and down, but not in front of the others.

BETTY
(speaking to everyone in the room, but staring at Rick)
Mr. Funny won’t be laughing when we don’t invite him on our trip to Paris next year.

RICK
Paris. Mindy wants to go to Paris, Betty.

Betty clenches her teeth, shakes her head with a disgusted look on her face.

BETTY
Always Mr. Funny, aren’t you? Mr. Funny.

HOWARD
(slightly slurring)
Y’all give it a rest. We’re here to have a good time. No more work talk ‘til Monday.

Betty nods her head enthusiastically. She kisses Howard on the cheek and rubs his belly.

BETTY
You’re right, How! I’ll hush up ‘til we get back home.

CUT TO:

SCENE 1C

EXT. BEACH – NIGHT

Tom and Rick on the beach. Still sitting there.

Tom, staring straight ahead, drags is finger through his hair like a rake. He exhales hard and bites his upper lip.

TOM
He killed her right in front of me. I just stood there.

RICK
What’s that?

Rick glances at his brother. He notices Tom’s watery eyes glistening in the moonlight, and turns back to stare into the night.

TOM
I was standing in the doorway, watching. He suffocated her with his hands. I saw him do it.

RICK
What the hell are you talking about, Tom? The dog?

TOM
Momma. I’m talking about Momma, dipshit.

RICK
What about Momma?

TOM
She didn’t die from the God damn stroke. He did it.

CUT TO:

SCENE: 5

EXT. CEMETERY – EULOGY (2 YEARS BEFORE THE PRESENT)

Rick stands in front of friends and family at the grave-site, reading slowly from a card, trying to keep it together.

RICK
Her full name was Ruby Jean Matthews.
(beat)
She was a proud member of the First Baptist Church. She volunteered countless hours towards community causes…

Rick stops, puts the card in his pocket. Takes a moment.

RICK (CONT’D)
Momma had the kind of face that’d make your eyes water every time you saw it in pictures. Theere was just so much color pouring out of her. She loved living and she loved people. She loved everyone her today. She loved making up games and dressing up for the kids. She’d sing to us just like she’d sing all over town… people could always hear Ms. Ruby coming.

Smiles and nods from many people at the funeral.

RICK (CONT’D)
Everyone loved to see her, hoping to become the focus of her attention if just for a moment. She treated each and every person with openness and undivided devotion. She made you feel significant. And you knew that every word that came out of her mouth was straight from her over-sized heart. She’d never hold back saying what she felt. In a way, she approached each day as if it were her last. She was fearless. And bold. We always told her she belonged on stage, and she would tell us that the world was her stage. She was so beautiful inside and out. I will miss her so much.

Rick looks out into the crowd, scanning both strange and familiar faces. Tom is weeping, his arm around his father. Howard appears unaffected, stoic. Mindy is on the other side of Tom holding his hand wiping tears away from her eyes with a handkerchief. Alice is next to Howard, visibly shaken by the loss and the grief of her husband. Betty sits in the pew behind Howard between a black woman and very elderly couple.

CUT TO:

SCENE: 1D

EXT. BEACH – NIGHT

Tom and Rick on the beach. Rick is silent.

TOM
Did you hear what I said, Rick?

Rick looks at Tom, then looks at the ocean, without saying a word.

Rick sits still, waiting.

CUT TO:

SCENE: 6

EXT. BACKYARD BBQ (HOWARD AND RUBY’S HOUSE) – DAY

Howard, Ruby, Rick, Alice (pregnant), Maddy (baby), Tom, Mindy, other NEIGHBORS, CO-WORKERS and FRIENDS are present. Everyone is standing around, talking, eating, grilling, etc. Among the guests are BETTY and her much older, ailing husband. There is the general hubbub and casualness of a barbecue.

RUBY (60) still emanates the grace of once beautiful woman, though is something strange about her demeanor. She is dressed in striped bellbottoms and a large, unmatching  sweater, entirely inappropriate for the summer heat. The clothes hang off her skinny body. Her hair is long and dry, pulled back into several flower clips. She wears no makeup and her face is pale.

Tom mans the grill, flipping burgers and hot dogs. Mindy helps out. Howard hovers around the grill, “supervising”.

HOWARD
Mindy, be a sweetheart and get Jimmy a beer over there.

MINDY
(she gives him a smile and funny palm upturned salute)

Right away, captain!

Mindy fetches the beer and returns to the grill.

HOWARD
(to Tom)
Be careful. I think you’re ‘bout to burn the ones in the back. Dammit boy, didn’t you learn anything from me?

TOM
Relax, Dad. I got it.

THE FOLLOWING SCENES ARE QUICK VIGNETTES THAT MAY BE IMPROVISED, USING ALL OR ONLY SOMEOF THE DIALOGUE:

A middle-aged couple in bad clothes sits next to the pool, eating.

MYRTLE
Jack, you want some more potato salad?

JACK
No, I’m miserable. You can beer me.

MYRTLE
Don’t you think you’ve had enough…

JACK
I SAID, beer me.

MYRTLE
(rolling her eyes)
Fine.

Myrtle leaves.

Jack leers at an attractive young mother, SUZANNE, who hovers over her three kids, unaware that Jack is enjoying a free show as her shirt hangs open. Unbeknownst to Jack, Myrtle returns.

MYRTLE (CONT’D)
Getting an eyeful? Lord, Jack, she’s almost younger than our youngest child.

Jack ignores her and takes the beer.

CUT TO:

CONTINUOUS

The young mother is doing all she can to wrangle her kids: ALBIE, a chunky 7-year-old; BILLY, a scrawny 5-year-old; and JENNY, a very prissy 10-year old who obviously holds her brothers in disdain.

ALBIE
Mom! I want some ice cream!

SUZANNE
No more sugar. You’re driving crazy today.

BILLY
(balancing a paper plate on his lap.)
Give me some more ketchup.

Already covered in food, Billy grabs the ketchup bottle and drowns his fries and hot dog in ketchup.

JENNY
Mom, can we please leave now? This is sooo boring. Everybody’s so old.

She says this right in front of a very elderly gentleman and his much younger wife, BETTY, who shoots a dirty looks at the mother.

Suzanne lightly slaps Jenny’s cheek.

SUZANNE
You hush up, young lady. I will not have anybody… (to Albie) I said no more! (back to Jenny) I will not have anybody hear you talking like that. I didn’t raise you to talk like that. Be nice or there’s no movie tonight. Understand?

CUT TO:

CONTINUOUS

Betty spoon-feeds OSCAR, the elderly gentleman.

BETTY
Children have no manners thee days. Don’t you mind them, Oscar.

OSCAR
Huh?

BETTY
Here, eat this, honeypie.

OSCAR
Thank you, my little dumpling. What would I do without you?

BETTY
Starve, probably.

She shoves another mouthful in. He reaches up and rubs the back of his hand against her breast.

BETTY (CONT’D)
(angrily)
Stop it, Oscar, where are your manners?!

Oscar chuckles to himself and starts to gag on his food. Betty just looks at him and lets him choke for a few seconds.

BETTY (CONT’D)
Serves you right.

She smacks him sharply on the back and he coughs it up.

CUT TO:

CONTINUOUS

Alice is at the buffet table, juggling three plates for herself, Rick and Ruby. Shes talking to Suzanne.

ALICE
I don’t know how you do it… Those three plus a full time job?

SUZANNE
Not like I got a chance. Soon as my last baby came out, so did Roy. Went and skipped off to Atlanta.

ALICE
Oh, I had no idea, that’s just awful.

Howard approaches.

ALICE (CONT’D)
You know, Howard, you really ought to be giving Suzanne have a little vacation time.

SUZANNE
(bashfully)
Oh, no, no, that’s not nec…

HOWARD
(loudly)
Now, what would be do without Suzanne. I never work her too much…
(to Suzanne)
…do I, doll? Be a sweethear and fetch me a beer, would you?

Howard gives Suzanne a little pop on the ass.

SUZANNE
(sweetly)
Course, Mr. Peterson.

Suzanne bolts away, heading off an impending disaster with Billy.

SUZANNE (CONT’D)
(screaming)
Billy! Stop that! Come here!

Alice is still standing at the buffet with her hands full.

ALICE
What made you leave your high roller buddies to come all the way over here?

HOWARD
Any chance to have a moment alone with my beautiful daughter-in-law.

Howard reaches into his wallet.

HOWARD (CONT’D)
First of all, here.

Howard stuffs a big wad of cash into Alice’s purse. Hands full, Alice is unable to stop him. Doesn’t really try.

ALICE
Howard, you don’t have to do that.

HOWARD
Just a little something to help out.

ALICE
Seriously, now, you know Rick would be furious if he knew you gave me money.

HOWARD
What the boy don’t know, won’t hurt him.

ALICE
(looks around to make sure Rick’s not looking at her)
Well, you don’t have to keep doing that.

HOWARD
I know I don’t have to, Alice.

ALICE
(blushing)
Thank you, Howard. I appreciate it.

HOWARD
It wouldn’t be necessary if Rick would come to work for me.

ALICE
You know that’s a losing battle.

HOWARD
Work on that boy. A lovely lady like you deserves better. He’s too damn smart to be wasting his life away for pulpwooder wages.

ALICE
We’re doing all right, Howard. We get by.

HOWARD
The door’s always open. Just work on him for me.

CUT TO:

Alice approaches the table with the plates. Rick sits with Maddy on his lap. Ruby is sitting next to Maddy, playing with her exposed belly.

RICK
What did my father want?

ALICE
Oh, the usual – wants you to go back to work for him.

RICK
(passing Ruby the plate)
Oh. Here, Momma. Alice got you a plate. All your favorites. You doing okay?

RUBY
(surveying the plate)
Oh, you know I love you Ricky, but those vegetables are entirely offensive to me.

RICK
The doctor said you have to eat healthy, Momma. Please, let’s just not argue about it.

RUBY
Well then stop bugging me about it and we won’t argue about it. Oh, I almost forgot!

Ruby jumps up and stands on the table. She begins clanging a spoon on her glass.

RUBY CONT’D
(yelling to the crowd)
Hey, everybody! I have a big announcement to make!

Howard stands, mortified, rushing up to Ruby and attempting to grab her legs.

HOWARD
(feigning joviality)
Come on, honey, get down from there.

RUBY
Get off me! Who is that? What’s your problem? Don’t touch me, you big bully!

It’s all Howard can do to maintain his smiling composure.

HOWARD
(through bared teeth)
Get down, right now!

RUBY
(ignoring Howard)
Where was I? Oh, as you know, it’s Howie’s birthday!

Rick gently goes to Ruby and attempts to encourage her down.

RICK
(softly)
Come on, momma, you don’t have to do that. Let’s get down now.

RUBY
(looking down at Rick)
What? Oh, Ricky. I had something to tell our friends here – I know it was important… it’s a special day…
(addressing the crowd again)
Oh! It’s Howie’s birthday! We’re all here to celebrate Howie’s birthday and sing him happy birthday! Where is that…
(looking around, spotting Howard next to her)
Here’s the birthday boy!
(singing)
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to…

The crowd joins in singing “Happy Birthday.” Suddenly, a dark spot of incontinence grows on Ruby’s slacks. Everyone is still. Ruby continues singing, as the others’ singing starts to fade, eventually dying out into silence. Ruby looks down and realizes what has happened.

Howard throws a beer can onto the ground and tears off into the house.

Rick quickly jumps up, takes Ruby to her chair and sits down. After a pause:

RUBY (CONT’D)
(embarrassed)
Oh, Lord, Ricky, look what I’ve gone and done. Why, that’s just shameful.

RICK
(quietly)
It’s all right, Momma. This stuff happens.

RUBY
And I just bought these dern slacks the other day.

RICK
Momma, you’ve had those pants since I was a ki--- It’s time for a new pair anyway.

RUBY
Hush up, Ricky, I know what I’m talking about.

CUT TO:

INT. HOWARD & RUBY’S HOUSE – LIVING ROOM

Rick walks in to find Howard sitting in his arm chair, drink in hand, staring at the television.

Rick stands there, finishes his beer. Howard doesn’t move.

RICK
You know, it’s hard for her to accept that she can’t do things like she used to do. It’s not her fault.

HOWARD
(snapping)
It’s not my fault either, but I’m the one paying for it. She ought not to be out in public.

RICK
Paying for what? Trying her best to make you happy? This whole day was her idea.

HOWARD
She makes me, us, look like a bunch of goddamn morons! Hell, now she can’t even control herself – it’s indecent, that’s what it is. In the old days, people would’ve kept her in the house.

RICK
So, that’s it, huh. After a fucking lifetime together, now that she’s becoming “inconvenient” for you, you can’t handle it? That’s not right. Not right at all.

HOWARD
Well, sonny boy, SHE’S not right!

RICK
(almost under his breath)
You’re not one to talk.

HOWARD
Come again?
(more stern)
If you have something to say to me, say it, boy. You have some nerve saying something to me. You. You can’t say anything to me. Not now. Not after everything I’ve done… offered you. And you go and throw it all back in my face.

RICK
That’s right, go ahead and belittle me if it’ll make you feel better. At least I’m doing something I love, something I care about, which is more than I can say about you. I’d rather die in the poorhouse than live a life of regret, stuck to a job I hate. Besides, this is not about you and me. This is about Momma.

HOWARD
You think you’re smarter than you are, Rick. You have no idea what this is about.

CUT TO:

SCENE: 7

INT. GROCERY STORE

Ruby pushes a cart through the store. She has a crumpled grocery list in a fist. The other hand grabs things off shelves and throws them into the cart. Howard is alongside, attempting to help. He looks miserable.

RUBY
Get a couple of those, How!

HOWARD
We already have some. Don’t you want to try some other flavor, maybe? Look ere, they’ve got tomato and minestrone and split pea…

RUBY
No! No! No! Just get me the mushroom, How. You know I don’t eat vegetables.

HOWARD
Mushrooms are vegetables.

RUBY
Yeah, yeah, you silly goose. Stop trying to trick me into it. I may be losing it, but I still remember that I don’t eat vegetables.

HOWARD
(sounding impatient)
Fine. Here, take a few more while you’re at it. What else is on the list?

Howard abruptly slings six more cans of cream of mushroom soup into the cart, clanking them against the other ones.

She looks down at her crumpled paper, squinting.

RUBY
Well, you don’t have to be that way about it.

HOWARD
(at his wit’s end)
Ruby, this is the second time this week you’ve made me come here just to get mushroom soup. You know what? Forget it. See you in the car.

Howard abruptly turns to leave, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket stuffing one in his mouth.

RUBY
(yelling at Howard’s back)
Good!
(to herself)
Now I can do some real shopping.

Howard walks briskly down the aisle and turns the corner, leaving Ruby with the cart.

RUBY (CONT’D)
(yelling down the aisle)
And you can stop telling me what to do!
(to herself)
Big bully.

CUT TO:

EXT. GROCERY STORE

Howard stands outside, hands in pockets and cigarette in his mouth. After a moment, he pauses in guilt, sigs, drops the cigarette.

As he reenters we hear: A loud crash/fall, the bustle and gasping of people.

INT. GROCERY STORE

A few customers are gathered around.

Ruby is coming off a seizure. She has fallen over onto a pile of oranges, knocking them all over the floor.

CUSTOMER 1
What happened to her?

CUSTOMER 2
(leaning over Ruby)
Are you alright? Can you hear me?

Howard comes up the aisle and runs into the crowd, pushing everyone away.

HOWARD
Back away … back away from her.

The customers move back and Howard leans down next to Ruby.

HOWARD (CONT’D)
(softly)
Ruby, Ruby, what are you doing?

KID
(loudly)
Mommy, what’s wrong with that lady?

MOMMY
(taking the kid’s hand)
Come on, honey.

Howard looks at the kid as the mother pulls her away.

CUSTOMER 3
(to Howard)
Do you need some help? Do you want me to call 911?

HOWARD
(self-consciously)
It’s okay. She’s my wife. I’ll take care of this. She just fell, that’s all.

CUSTOMER 1
(yelling to a store clerk)
Someone needs to call an ambulance.

HOWARD
No! It’s okay. She’ll be fine. Thank you. Thank you very much.

Howard begins to lift Ruby. Customer 4 tries to help.

CUSTOMER 4
Here, let me help you, sir.

HOWARD
(fiercely)
I got it! Thanks. I got it.

Ruby begins to look around. She’s bleary-eyed and confused.

RUBY
What happened, How?

HOWARD
(flatly)
You fell.

The customers stare as Howard lifts Ruby and moves to the exit, leaving all the groceries and mess behind. He carries her out to the car as people just stand and watch.

CUT TO:

SCENE: 1D

EXT. BEACH – NIGHT

Rick is still sitting and Tom is now standing; he moves closer to the water’s edge, looking straight out to sea.

TOM
When I saw the car screech up into the driveway, for some reason, I don’t know why, I knew it was about Momma.

CUT TO:

SCENE 8

EXT. HOWARD’S HOUSE – CAR

Tom on a riding mower in the front yard.

Howard’s car screeches up into the driveway. He gets out of the front and rushes to the back seat.

Tom stops the mower and runs to the car.

Howard pulls Ruby out of the backseat like a fallen bird, air wheezing from her frail body. Her skin looks like she’s been dipped in babypowder.

Tom can hardly stand to look at his mother. Tom follows behind.

CUT TO:

INT. BEDROOM

Ruby is strewn out on the bed. Howard is sitting next to her; Tom standing above.

HOWARD
Go call Dr. Morrisson. Go call him!

Tom rushes to the living room for the phone. He dials, makes a mistake, curses, dials again, frustrated.

TOM
(into the phone)
I need the doctor – it’s an emergency.

CUT TO:

Tom goes back to towards the room where the wheezing noises were coming from. He approaches the doorway and slowly looks around the door. The wheezing noises stop.

Ruby is still lying on the bed. Howard’s hands are covering her nose and mouth.

Ruby’s eyes open and look straight up at Howard. She weakly lifts her arms, but Howard’s too heavy and too strong to be moved.

CUT TO:

SCENE 1E

EXT. BEACH – NIGHT

Tom is still talking at the ocean. Rick sits blank-faced, listening.

TOM
Her eyes opened and she looked at him just for a few seconds. She died quick. Poof.

Rick stares at Tom for a moment, quiet.

RICK
Why didn’t you try to do anything?

TOM
I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. I couldn’t move. I stay up nights thinking about it. Jesus, I know it happened, but the whole thing seems like a bad dream.

RICK
Who else knows about this?

TOM
Only the three of us. Shit, I haven’t even told Mindy.

RICK
Then, why tell me?

TOM
I can’t be the only one who knows anymore, Rick. I can’t handle it on my own.

RICK
What do you expect me to do with this?

TOM
He loved her. You know that. He did what he thought was right.

RICK
(shouting, angry)
Fuck you say, Tom! He embarrassed him. He was ashamed of her. We all could see that. He’s a selfish son of a bitch.

TOM
I really think she was going to die anyway.

Rick stands up and moves closer to his brother.

RICK
Bullshit! You believe that?! You wouldn’t have told me this shit if you really believed that?

TOM
No, Rick. I really do think he was just helping her move on. I’m sure of it.

RICK
You’re telling me this nearly two years after we buried our mother. I can’t believe you would do that, Tom.

Rick kicks a load of sand into the air, the wind blows it back into their faces.

They both spit, rubbing their eyes for a few awkward moments. Tom lights a cigarette and Rick stares at the red glow.

TOM
You’re going to keep this to yourself, right?

RICK
(shoulders slumped, looking defeated)
Who am I going to tell, Tom? Alice? She’d just have him arrested, and I don’t know what good that would do. Am I going to tell my kids? What? Tell them that their grandfather’s a fucking grandma murderer?
(Beat.)
Come on.

TOM
Then, swear you’ll keep quiet.

Rick looks around the beach and drinks down the last of his beer.

RICK
Shit, Tom, I wish you could just take it back.

TOM
Swear to me, Rick.

Rick fires his empty beer bottle into the ocean.

RICK
(pause)
Yes. I swear. It dies with me.

Rick turns and begins to walk over the dunes to the condo; Tom follows.

CUT TO:

SCENE: 9

INT. CONDO – NIGHT

Rick and Tom walk in. Alice is sitting in an armchair near Mindy, on the couch. Mindy is flipping through a magazine and Alice is reading a book.

Rick goes to the kitchen for a beer, standing there to down it before grabbing another and moving back into the living room.

ALICE
(passively aggressively)
Welcome back.

Rick ignores Alice. He walks to a chair and sits.

Tom glances at Rick, then goes to sit next to Mindy on the couch.

MINDY
(sweetly)
Did you boys have a good time out there?

Tom nestles into Mindy’s neck.

TOM
(smiling)
We smoked some good shit… and you know how horny good weed makes me.

Alice shoots a look at Rick, whose mind is somewhere else.

MINDY
(giggling)
Why didn’t you share?

TOM
It was just a little doobie, baby. Come on, how often do I really get to hang with my big brother?

MINDY
What were you talking about? Which one of you is getting laid the most?

TOM
Heck no. I don’t have to talk about that to know I’m winning that match.

Tom kisses Mindy’s hand.

TOM
They say quality is better than quantity. I must be the luckiest m-f-er on the planet, ‘cause I got ‘em both.

RICK
(putting her pointer finger into her mouth likes she’s trying to make herself throw-up)
Jesus… I think I’m going to be sick.

Tom and Mindy laugh. Alice hushes everyone down, pointing in the direction of the two closed doors.

INT. CONDO BATHROOM – NIGHT

From Rick’s POV we approach Alice in the bathroom, as she is standing in a nightgown at the bathroom sink brushing her teeth. Her hair is pulled back and makeup off.

Rick clumsily grasps her from behind around the waist, fondling her breasts. His eyes are heavy and lurid.

Alice, mouth still full of toothpaste, gently tries to wriggle free of his grasp, half smiling, but earnest.

ALICE
(softly, mouth still full of toothpaste)
Rick, come on, cut it out.

RICK
(into her ear)
I love your body.

Rick’s hands begin to gather her nightgown up. Alice’s hands are wrestling, still playfully, with his. She manages to spit the rest of the toothpaste into the sink. The water is still running.

ALICE
(becoming a bit more insistent)
Stop, Rick, not now, okay?

Rick’s face is nestling into her neck, pulling her hair free.

RICK
Now now? Now’s perfect, Alice. No kids, we’re all alone.

He holds her wrists firmly with one hand as the other pushes its way between her thighs, then he pauses, opens his eyes and looks at her in the mirror.

RICK (CONT’D)
(smiling)
And you’re ready for me.

Rick abruptly grabs her by the waist and turns her around, pushing her up onto the counter. Alice tries to balance. Her face is blank.

Rick presses against her with force, hands around her back, pulling her towards him. His eyes are closed. He lets out a low grunt with each movement, becoming more rapid. Finally, he is silent for a moment, gripping her hard. Then he relaxes, hanging his head on her breast.

Alice is silent. She rubs her eye with her hand.

Beat.

She makes her way out from under him, pulling down her nightgown and walking out of the bathroom.

Rick leans on the counter, intoxicated, left completely alone. He looks at himself in the mirror with a blank stare, mouth ajar.

CUT TO: BLACK

RICK (V.O.) (CONT’D)
It doesn’t matter how close you are to someone, when your mind is somewhere else. When you know something and you can’t say a word. You wonder if the secret could bring the two of you closer. You’re tempted to tell her, but you know she wouldn’t be quiet… couldn’t be quiet. You know she would expect you to do something.
(Beat.)
So, you keep the secret, as much as it burns and tears and eats at you alive. You keep the secret and lie in bed every night awake, wondering what you would have done if you were in the room. You marvel at the fact that you’ll never be able to see things the same because of what you now know.

FADE IN:

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

Rick is lying on his back, head propped by a pillow, staring at the ceiling. Alice is lying next to him, back towards him. Their bodies are not touching.

Rick turns to look at Alice’s back, looks up at the ceiling again, then gets up. He takes the pillow in hand and pulls the blanket from the edge of the bed, then walks towards the door. He carefully opens it and slowly shuts it behind him.

CUT TO:

INT. CONDO HALLWAY – NIGHT

Rick is walking down the hall in the quiet condo, pillow under one arm dragging the blanket behind him.

RICK (V.O)
You’ll continue on, as you always do. But nothing will be the same. You’ll go to Thanksgiving dinner and try to make the turkey go down despite your loss of appetite. You’ll accept the sweater for Christmas and refrain from ripping it to shreds. You’ll go on, trying to breathe in spite of it; but it stays, wrapped around you like cellophane.

Rick passes a few doors before approaching the living room. A blue tinted light is flickering from the TV room. He slowly walks towards the room. He sees Howard’s body, sleeping in a large armchair across from the TV.

RICK (V.O.) (CONT’D)
The secrets seeps through your veins like a poison, tainting everything you see. You want to drown it, burn it… break it into a thousand pieces. But it’s too late, the moment is gone and it’s no longer tangible. Now the secret lives only inside you.

Rick continues towards the chair, approaching it from behind. A motivational speaker is on the screen, telling his viewers that he knows how to “Break the Chains That Bind You”. Rick stands upright, stares at the TV.

RICK (V.O.) (CONT’D)
Suddenly you see it. You see everything clearly before you. You see that everything you’ve done and all that you’ve avoided has been to escape… escape your own fate. And you realize for the first time that you have inevitably become the thing you hate most. That is your secret; that is the real secret.
(Beat.)
It’s a secret I can no longer live with.

Howard’s eyes open beneath Rick. Rick is choking him, his arms stiff, his teeth clenched. He’s straddling him in the chair so his knees are holding down his father’s arms. He looks like a man possessed. The motivational speaker is shouting from the screen behind him: “You don’t have to live like this anymore! Break free, my friend! Break free!”

FADE TO BLACK

Members Only

By Patrick Best

T.J.'s father, Tom, was an odd, hunched-over man who’d retired from the Army and spent more time at the VFW drinking beer and throwing darts than he did at home. He was somewhere between 45 and 65 years old when I knew him. I’m usually pretty good at guessing a person’s age, but Tom was a tough one. He didn’t have the wrinkles or grey hair of someone who’d walked away from the nursing home in the middle of the night, but his demeanor and movements were those of a shuffleboard-playing fellow whose steak-eating and dancing days were behind him. T.J. said his dad was a war hero who'd "been in Special Forces and killed hundreds of gooks" during the Vietnam War. He said he'd snuffed out North Vietnamese soldiers in their tunnels with his bare hands, and that he'd eaten worms and roaches to survive when he spent months alone in the jungle. I was never able to imagine Tom crawling around with a knife in his mouth and a machine gun strapped to his back - he looked like a pencil-pusher to me - but I always enjoyed hearing T.J.'s stories.

Tom never seemed drunk when he was at home, but he always smelled like liquor and looked tired when he shuffled down the hall with a five o’clock shadow, wearing black socks and white tennis shoes. In the entire seven years of my friendship with T.J., I don’t recall him saying more than two words to his father in my presence. On the rare occasion that they were home at the same time and crossed paths, it was as if they were invisible to each other. There were never happy greetings or hugs or I love yous. Just the facts:

Tom: “Where’s your mother?”
T.J.: “Patio.”

or

Tom: “Where are my keys?”
T.J.: “Kitchen counter.”

or

Tom: “Has the dog been out this morning?”
T.J.: “Yes.”

Ursula Andress

His relationship with his mother was even more complicated. Kitten (that's what everyone called her, including T.J.) was a beautiful blonde in her mid-30s who was equal parts Reese Witherspoon and Ursula Andress. She'd met and married T.J.'s dad while he was stationed in Germany. She had a very strong accent, and she spoke at a volume that was barely loud enough to hear if you were standing right in front of her. It was almost impossible to believe that she was married to Tom. It was a match made in Bizarro World. She was beautiful and exotic enough to be on the big screen. He looked like a former history professor who now spent time sifting through items in a shopping cart under the overpass. The little soft-spoken Kitten would disappear when she something made her angry. Lightning bolts and nuclear bombs had nothing on her when she lost her temper. At age 13, I was at least eight inches taller than her, but she scared the living hell out of me. She was usually able to keep her composure when T.J. had friends over, but I could see it in her eyes when something upset her. A fork in the sink, a trash can that hadn’t been emptied, a wet towel on the floor. It didn’t take much. T.J. seemed more afraid of her when she didn’t release the hot lava that bubbled behind her eyes, and he did everything possible to stay away from her. He knew Mt. Kitten would erupt sooner or later and spill its fiery contents all over him.

I only saw her hit him one time. I was spending the night at his house and we were hanging out in a room that was behind their garage. Tom had been "renovating" the room for years, but we cleared an area amongst the power tools and the fold-up sawhorse for our sleeping bags and boom box. We went to the kitchen and ate a sandwich and some chips, careful to clean off the counter and put away the items we’d used to make our late-night snack. We listened to a Phil Collins tape while we played the board game, Risk, and T.J. told me about how much he loved a girl in our grade named Holly.

Someone knocked on the door.  The knocks were spaced apart in a dramatic, deliberate fashion. Knock. One second pause. Knock. One second pause. Knock. T.J.s face told me something was wrong. He didn’t look at me.

“Yes, Kitten?” he said.

“I need to speak with you for a moment, T.J.” Kitten said through the door in a cold, formal tone.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he stood and headed toward the door.

“We put up all the food, right?” he asked as he placed his hand on doorknob. He didn’t wait for me to reply. He opened the door and closed it behind him.

The living room was adjacent to their kitchen, and I could see them through the large sliding glass door that led to their back patio. The room where T.J. and I were spending the night was also accessible from the patio and there was a window that gave me a good view of them. The room was decorated with mahogany-colored antiques and a red and black tapestry hung on the wall above a Victorian Sofa. A single lamp was on in the room and it's warm light on the dark decor made my view look like a dark and brooding painting from the Romantic Period. Kitten was holding a paper towel in one hand and a thin belt in the other. T.J. was nodding his head as her face contorted as she yelled at him and shook the paper towel inches away from his nose. When she started hitting him there seemed to be no warning. He turned his back to her after the first two or three whips hit him on the upper arm and across his chest. The rest were focused on his legs, buttocks and back.

I couldn't hear anything she was saying to him. I couldn't hear the slap of the belt against his body. The music of Sir Phil Collins was still playing and served as the soundtrack for the horrible silent movie that was playing on the glass screen in front of me. T.J. didn’t fight her or run away or even plead with her to stop. He gritted his teeth and let his mother do what she needed to do. I wanted to help him. I wanted to run out of the house and never go back again. I just stood there, slack-jawed, and watched as my friend got the worst beating I’d ever seen. When he came back to the room 15 minutes later, I was zipped up in my sleeping bag and pretended to be asleep. He didn't try to wake me, and neither of us mentioned a word about it the next day.

All our friends constantly asked T.J. why he always wore blue jeans, t-shirts and a Members Only jacket, even in the summertime when the temperature in south Alabama sometimes topped 100 degrees. Kids at school occasionally picked on him about it, but it didn't seem to bother him. He could have told one of his gollywhopper lies to make the questions go away. He could have told them he had a skin condition that made him get hives if he received too much direct contact from the sun. He could have said he was training his body to deal with extreme heat because he was going on a secret mission with his dad in the Sahara Desert. Most of the kids would have accepted any explanation, even if they didn't completely believe him. "I like the way it looks on me," he would flatly reply. Nothing more. I never asked him... because I knew the truth.

Some names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Shooting Bottle Rockets with the Next Tsar of Russia

by Patrick Best

My step-father said he was a pathological liar, but I loved T.J. like a brother. I was always fascinated by his stories… and I really wanted to believe them all. He once made me swear to never tell a soul that he was a descendent of Tsar Nicholas II of Russia. I listened intently as he told me how the Bolsheviks killed the whole family in the basement except for one of the Tsar's four daughters, the Grand Duchess Anastasia. He told me his grandmother was Anastasia’s daughter and that she had tens of millions of dollars and priceless jewelry hidden in a safe somewhere in their house. He told me that he was the sole heir to her fortune because he’d always been kind to her, and that when she passed away he was going to take the money and travel all over the world. He said he expected to one day be recognized as royalty in Russia, but he never planned to live there. "For my family to be recognized will be enough," he said.

He told everyone in our neighborhood that he was a black belt in karate and that he had an IQ of 168. He was a pretty smart kid, so there were times when I believed his claims about being a genius. I’d known him since we were 10, and I never saw or heard of him visiting a dojo. He and I got into a nasty fight one day in my friend Mark's front yard. I was a lot bigger and heavier than T.J., so it wasn't much of a fight. I could never get him to back down or cry or say 'I give up', so I finally just quit punching him and walked home feeling terrible about fighting with my good friend. I was never declared the winner, even though it would have been clear to a blind man that I had gotten the better of him, because he told all our friends that he never hit me because he didn’t want to hurt me. He also stated that the swollen eye and bloody lip he received during our 15 rounds didn’t hurt him because he had gone into a trance that only five people in the world knew how to enter. Great stuff, right?

T.J. and I camped out a lot. In the early '80s in Ozark, Alabama there wasn't much else to do for 13-year-old boys on a Saturday night. We’d fish for bream and crappie in the lake for our supper and listen to loud music on his boom box until we got bored and hatched a plan to do something reckless and, sometimes, maybe just a little illegal. We never did anything to hurt anyone, but I will admit that every once in a while we’d take our battles against boredom a little too far. We definitely stepped into "too far" territory on one of our excursions a few nights after the 4th of July in 1984. We dressed up in some of his dad's old Army fatigues and grabbed a hundred or so of the bottle rockets we didn’t get around to shooting off to celebrate our nation’s independence. At some point during the evening, after eating a bowl of charred fish and Fritos, we decided it would be fun to mess with the guests at the Holiday Inn just off Highway 231. The hotel’s parking lot was across the lake from our camp site, so we loaded up his little john boat with a bushel of firecrackers and floated over to the bank.

As we neared the edge of the trees we got on our hands and knees and crawled up as close to the parking lot as we could get without being revealed by the bright yellow street lights that dozens of moths circled and kissed. It was after midnight, so it was quiet except for the howl of the occasional diesel truck that passed by the hotel on the highway. The room doors at the hotel are all accessible from the parking lot, and most of the big windows were covered by dark curtains that said the people inside were either sleeping or doing things didn’t require a lot of light.

It wasn’t a big hotel, so we weren’t more than 30 yards from the closest hotel room door. It took us five or six bottle rocket blasts to get a rise out of our first guest. A grey-haired old man wearing a white v-neck t-shirt and unbuttoned blue jeans came out onto the balcony of the second floor and looked up and down the parking lot. Puffs of smoke from the most recent explosions still twisted and curled in the night sky like tiny dancing ghosts. The man shook his head and walked back into his room muttering to himself when he couldn’t determine what had caused the noise that forced him out of bed. T.J. and I gave each other a quick high-five and readied our artillery.

A few short minutes after the old fellow had gone back into his room, closed the door and turned off the light, we were ready to fire again. He slid the red stick into the Coke bottle launcher we’d brought along and I lit the fuse. Just as that black powder ignited and we heard that beautiful “schoof” sound bottle rockets make at liftoff, a man with a bushy Geraldo Rivera-like mustache opened the door of the room directly in front of us. He was wearing boxers and flip flops and he was on his way to the ice machine (he had the little bucket in his hand). He must have had ears like an owl because he stared right in our direction. The rocket shot out of the bottle and headed right for him. He stood there, frozen, like a bushy-lipped statue in underwear that no self-respecting sculptor on the planet would ever create. That supercharged Black Cat flew right past his head and hit the rustled sheets at the end of the bed behind and… “POW!” I saw a woman’s bare legs kicking at the bed covers like she was trying to chase away a hundred angry yellow jackets. He made sure his lady friend was okay, and then ran toward the tree line like a man possessed.

We ran like hell, but the man kept coming - he wasn't afraid to follow us into the dark woods with bare feet and wearing only boxers. We hid in a pile of brush about 30 yards from where we were shooting the rockets. We lay there still, and listened as he pounded through the brush screaming for us to come out. “I’m going to find you!” he said in a frightening growl. We didn’t dare make a sound or a movement. I believed then, and now, that he would have killed us if he found us.

He came close enough to us that I could smell his beer and cigarette breath as he shouted threats and obscenities into the night. After a few minutes, I saw flashing blue lights from a police car that just rolled into the hotel parking lot. An officer began to call for the man in the woods to come out. I could see a flashlight beaming into the trees above us. “Hey Ronnie! Come on back out here before you get hurt!” the officer yelled. Ronnie’s girlfriend must have called 911, put on some clothes, and come out to greet the officer.

We knew we would be busted if the officer came into the woods with his flashlight, so as soon as Homicidal Ronnie found his way back to the parking lot, T.J. and I turned on our own flashlights and started running. The officer must have seen our beams bouncing up and down through the trees because he took chase. We only had about 100 yards to go to get back to the boat, but the woods were dense, overgrown. Thorn bushes ripped at our clothes and into our skin and thin branches slapped us in the face and neck as we ran. We made it to the boat, turned off our flashlights and pushed off into the black water. The policeman never made it close to the water. We watched as the lights from his flashlight slashed through the darkness in the woods and listened as he yelled “Come out with your hands up!” and “I see you, kids! Come on out!”

We knew he didn’t see us and we paddled harder than Olympic rowers until we got back to our camp site. We pulled the boat onto the shore and hid it under some bushes away from our sleeping bags. We said a few wisecracks about the man in his underwear and the officer fumbling around in the woods, but we didn’t laugh a lot. Mostly we just sat quietly in the darkness and listened for the sound of footsteps headed in our direction. We were bloodied and bruised and shaken to the core. We did a lot of other stupid things with each other in the next few years that followed... but we never shot bottle rockets at the Holiday Inn again.

Some names have been changed to protect the innocent.