“what I hear”
“but you wanna”
“yep…but have to finish this all fore that moron boodekier shifts up”
“know, he ain’t doing nothing”
“maybe after if ain’t too late for you”
“not that you’ll be ‘allowed”
“oh, you know what
I have to say
bout that….more like…”
“…you eyes be back yo head by then”
Pasty old storefront, whitewashed and unwell, grey sign dangling, swaying slightly in the anxious wind. Football field of emptiness, once proudly paved, now more cracks than ever were cars…and mind you, in it’s day, this joint was the place to be, Friday, Saturday, hell, any night really, long’s you didn’t have no place to be bright and shiny.
Off to the right, can’t miss the gold lock n’ chain wrapping round the twelve-foot gate, holes and all, yet still wraps full round the premises, not perfect, but enough to keep the local children from catching tetanus, breaking bones and such, or seeing something ain’t none supposed to see, forcing decisions none us want to make. Always closed, been that way for years now, yet open tonight.
Following back that alley deep, the outline of the warehouse is much deeper than the front would suggest. Potholes consuming most the path, leading back to the docks, where there’s a man, grey beard, wife-beater, unlit stogie propped hind left ear. Oblivious he must have been not to hear or see us stirring all that dust to the air, either that or he just didn’t care much at all. Too busy motoring that tow motor all about, raising them forks, slanting them crates it carries, angling and loading onto old fish trucks, almost as ugly as this here scene.
I stopped the car right next to that truck, got out, and stared face to face with that faded old catfish, noticing the man whipping round inside, seeing it ain’t as empty as we expected it to be. Found the steps, what was left of them anyhow, climbed to that dock and slowly stepped on to that opening…(BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP), tow motor just missing me right there…guess that proves the man knew we, at least I, was there, ain’t stop him none, as he just loaded up the last pallet to fit, did a quick hop off his seat, pulled that old rope dangling from the drawn back door, stretching as it fell, locking hitch in place. He paused, just slightly, looked at me, sighed, then bent over, snapping lock to it’s slots, looked at me once more, hopped back upon the lift, and sped on back into the warehouse.
I waited a few minutes, but then the lights inside grew fast to dim, then off they were, all as the door lowered itself down, effectively sealing up the space within. My partner rolled down his window, and shouted at me from down below:
“guess he didn’t like
the way you smelled”
“you don’t suppose he’d just leave…he wouldn’t do that would he?
“Think that’s what he just did”
“damn, what I thought, I’m really not in the mood for this”
“and you think I am”
(Now back to the car, getting in)
“not like you got nowhere better to be”
“that is so pathetic…
true but sad, very sad”
(Car driving back up the alley)
“I still love ya though”
“damn, you sure do
have a knack for
making things worse”
“what’s a brother for”
The gate’s been closed again, locking them inside. So they did the only thing they could do, driving at full speed, approaching that gate really fast.
“you’re not doing what I….”
“gotta reopen it somehow”
“Damn, ain’t this a new car too…”
(Car slams on break, empty coffee cups, bags and such fly forward, passenger jerks forward, belt prevents his head from making contact with the dash)
“You couldn’t have told me you
was gonna stop hard now, could
you have….would it have killed you
say, hey, brace yourself, or something
like that…could you”
“and what’s the fun in that”
Driver gets out. Headlamps shining in the recently born moonlight, illuminating some of that dust that was still swirling from their earlier trip down. Popped the trunk, grabbed a bolt cutter and broke open that old lock. Pushed that rusted door off to the side, just enough to get the car through.
“did you know who that guy was”
“no idea, did you”
“hell no, you know, heck said it yourself
millions of times, I don’t know shit”
“that you don’t, that you don’t…but his identity’s going to have
to wait another day or so, bennie and me’s going out for some striper, wanna come?”
“let me think about that….HELL NO,
fishing is so boring…”
“boring…more like relaxing and suspense wrapped into one, and then there’s the beers”
“sure beers are fine, but be honest
you’re just going there for the
gossip…come to think about it, that’s
all he’s good for”
“now leave bennie out of it, he’s a good guy…can be lots of fun just have to know how to take him, that’s all”
“ you know, momma never
knew what you saw in him,
always would say you going out
with that slow boy…never really
saw it then, but come to think
about it, he ain’t all there upstairs,
“like I said, just a matter of knowing how to take him, which means you have to know bennie to do that.”
The idea for this piece was just to get some dialogue work in. Been a bit of time since I wrote a script, and need to get going again. So, I decided to just throw the first scene that came to mind together. It was there that I got the idea to work on accents, voice and personality through dialogue. When I first started writing screenplays, there really wasn’t any way to record each line on the computer, or at least that I knew of, and I found that by being able to hear the lines you just wrote, is a huge plus. It also gave me an opportunity to have a little fun trying to work with voices, unfortunately, I think I made these sound too alike. Originally, when I started this exercise, I wanted to get the voices sounding similar, as I felt brothers and close friends often resemble one another’s speech, but after listening, while I can tell who is who, I also realize that the voices may be too similar for those just listening and not following along.