Parking Lot Lesson

CUT TO:

INT. GROCERY STORE – PRESENT

Sophie walks through the produce section. The baby sitting in an enfant chair looks up at Sophie with wide eyes and smiles tremendously. For a second we see the baby's point of view as Sophie is surrounded by subtle, radiant PURPLE AND golden light as it starts pointing. The four year old brother riding in shopping cart sees Sophie’s radiant glow too, but is perceived NOT as brilliant. At the same time Sophie notices what Heather was talking about when she looks at the family shopping.

CART BOY
Mommy, look!

BOY'S MOTHER
(Oblivious)
Honey, it's not polite to stare at the pretty lady.

INT. GROCERY CHECK OUT, NEW ORLEANS – DAY, PRESENT

SOPHIE
One apple, five for a dollar

With dog food can in one hand, Sophie points to the eaten core in her other hand. She gives it to the cashier to throw out.

SOPHIE (CONT'D)
and may I have $40 cash back in an envelope, please. I don’t need a bag.

One cans of dog food is having trouble scanning properly and the cashier asks a nearby co worker for a price check.

SOPHIE
(Chatty “old” lady)
Thank you, dear. Philip and I are up visiting friends, so it’s great you sell individual cans. You have such great deals on produce here!

TEEN CASHIER
(She smiles politely)

We see from the elbows down, a tall distinguished, fit, and surprisingly handsome for his age, unmarried, black gentleman in his early 80’s in a long dress coat and expensive, sharp suit and wrist watch named CLYDE BENSON who stands a couple people behind Sophie in the check-out line.

We also hear an irate caller at a payphone in the store lobby slamming down the phone after yelling, “That’s bullshit!” We see the arm of a teenager in a grey sweat shirt and nervous shuffling of feet from the people standing behind Sophie. We hear a cello roughly played and then crechendos into a screeching high note.

SOPHIE (V.O)
What does mine sound like?

CUT TO:

EXT. BENCH NEAR OPERA HOUSE STEPS – 2:30PM

Heather listens with bow in hand as she starts tapping louder and louder on her cello.

HEATHER (V.O.)
Now, that’s interesting… yours is Very complex and then goes into a very simple pure melody like you Become a baby again. Something like this…

We hear the melody blend back to present moment as Sophie walks into the dreary, overcast parking lot.

CUT TO:

EXT. GROCERY PARKING LOT – GREY, OVERCAST

Sophie walks out with envelope of money and keys in one hand and a can of dog food in the other.

Sophie is walking to her car. PHILIP, a tan dachshund dog, with dark eyes is barking in crazy circles and rolling around on his back in the driver’s seat as if someone near by is about to have a seizure. Putting her key in the lock, A MAN with a GUN is suddenly standing at Sophie’s back. It’s the angry payphone guy.

SOPHIE (V.O.)
(With compassion)
Doug, “The Thug”!
(Snickers)
Mary, you’re too much. Just when I thought I was done with this lesson.

It’s hard to tell that “Doug, the thug” is a white male in his late teens, wearing dirty old jeans and a deep grey hooded sweat jacket raised so we can’t see his eyes or head. You get that same creepy feeling as if a Harry Potter soul sucking Dementor walked past you on the street.

Sophie slowly raises her can of dog food in self defense.

“Doug The Thug” knocks the dog food can out of Sophie’s hand. It rolls down the parking lot towards the store.

SOPHIE (V.O.)
(Calmly)
Guess my great grand kids were right about me needing to take that self defense class at the Y.

Sophie laughs nervously.

“DOUG THE THUG”
(Muffled)
Lady, give me the cash.

Beat.

CLYDE BENSEN, a strong, sharp, rich, vibrant, black business man in his late seventies dressed to the nines stands by his silver four door truck with a trailer hitch in front of the A & P.

CLYDE
(Purposefully)
Ma'am? Ma'am, I believe you left one of your items at the entrance of the store.

Clyde is standing a ways off, solid as a rock with Sophie’s can of dog food prominently displayed in one hand.

“Doug” turns, slightly, still in control.

CLYDE
(Curious)
And, what's your name, son?
“Doug” in a focused trance ignores Clyde.

CLYDE (CONT’D)
Son, I see you like envelopes.
(Pausing)

Son, I have a business proposition for you. It's not for me to choose, but if it's alright with Ms. ______?

Sophie swallows hard before speaking.

SOPHIE
Peterson.

CLYDE
You are welcome to accept responsibility for the pocket change in Ms. Peterson's envelope. BUT you have to spend a about a life time of accosting unsuspecting ladies in the parking lot to equal 10% of the cashier's check in my

Clyde emphasizes his left breast pocket.

CLYDE (CONT’D)
Left breast, pocket. It’s up to you, son. We All Have To Make a Choice of How We Want to Spend Our Time.

Clyde speaks in a cadence of media headlines as he reaches inside his coat.

“Doug” shifts position to defend himself.

“DOUG”
(Cocky,cracked voice)
How, much money, you got?

CLYDE
(Smooth)
I have a cashiers note for the sale of a boat I had docked at Lake Pontchartrain.

“Doug” turns towards Clyde

“DOUG”
What kind of boat was it?

“Doug’s” hood has dropped around his neck revealing a scraggly hurt male, with deep circles around his eyes in his late teens early 20’s

“DOUG”
(Almost friendly)
I mean, what was the make and model of the boat?

CLYDE
Son, that’s a great question. I have a picture of it here on the dash board of my truck.

Philip is no longer rolling on his back and making high pitch winning sounds. He begins licking through the tiny crack in the car window.

We hear a loud explosive sound go off in the parking lot...


Ruth Anne Wood ©2001-2009 Registered with the WGAE