Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Week 47, Day 325- "Barflies At The Beach"

“Barflies At The Beach”

Written by Joe Janes

12/9/09

325 of 365

CAST

Woody, 50s

Aretha, 50s

Jimmy, 20s

(Lights up on Jimmy, Woody and Aretha setting up for a day at the beach. Jimmy wears shorts and a tank top. Woody unashamedly wears Speedos. Aretha wears a one piece with frilly fringe on the bottom half. Aretha is laying out a towel as Woody opens up a cooler and breaks out some beer.)

ARETHA

Finally. A day at the beach with my family.

(She and Woody share a quick kiss. She starts putting on sun tan lotion.)

JIMMY

I don’t get the big deal. It’s water. We have water at home.

WOODY

It’s good to get outdoors, Jimmy. Get some fresh air; take a dip in the lake.

JIMMY

Smells like dead fish.

WOODY

It’s supposed to smell that way. It’s a good smell.

JIMMY

You say so. That water don’t look right. Water’s supposed to be blue.

WOODY

Stop being such a wussy bag.

ARETHA

Really, Jimmy. Can’t you just enjoy yourself for once? Nobody has to work. You don’t have to go in the water, if you don’t want to. Just drink beer and sit in the sun.

JIMMY

There ain’t no sun.

ARETHA

Of course there’s a sun. Just behind the clouds right now, is all.

WOODY (handing Jimmy a beer)

Here you go, Jimmy. Let’s let Aretha soak up some clouds while the men go step in the water.

JIMMY

I don’t know, Woody.

WOODY

Just a little ways. No dunking or nothing. I saw it on TV. At these resorts in exotic places like Florida. Rich dudes stand in the ocean and drink pina coladas.

JIMMY

I’ll go as far as the water.

WOODY

That’s a start.

(They head down to the edge of the stage, which is also the edge of the water.)

JIMMY

I used to like coming to the beach, when I was a kid.

WOODY

Still the same beach.

JIMMY

Naw. It’s different. Smaller. More litter, less shells.

WOODY

You just got bigger. Come on. Let’s walk in just a bit.

(Woody steps into the water, off the edge of the stage.)

WOODY (continuing)

Whoa. Bit of a drop there. Careful. Let me hold your beer.

JIMMY

I don’t need you to hold my beer.

(Jimmy steps in.)

JIMMY (continuing)

Christ that’s cold.

(Woody has stepped out farther than Jimmy.)

WOODY

It feels good. It’s like touching nature.

JIMMY

It’s like touching nature in a bad place. There’s dead fish floating in the waves.

(If possible, Woody has found a chair to stand on.)

WOODY

Hey, Jimmy. Come on out here. I found a sand bar.

JIMMY

I’m fine, right here.

WOODY

Come on, boy. Belly up to the sand bar with your dad.

(Jimmy reluctantly moves towards the sand bar. He trips and goes under, but pops back up.)

JIMMY

Crap that’s cold!

(He hurries to the sand bar.)

WOODY

There you go. A good dunk will get you used to it.

JIMMY

I think I got lake water in my beer.

WOODY

The alcohol will kill the germs. And what it doesn’t kill will toughen you up.

JIMMY

It tastes awful.

WOODY

Here. Trade me, you puss.

JIMMY

It’s okay.

WOODY

I said trade me. I don’t want to hear you whining. (They trade. Woody takes a big old swig.) Aw, that tastes just dandy. Like drinking nature.

JIMMY

Dad, what are we doing here?

WOODY

Aw, Jimmy. I’ve got something to tell you. Man-to-man. Your mother and I are splitting up.

JIMMY

Aretha!

ARETHA

What?

JIMMY

Dad says you two are splitting up.

ARETHA

Oh, Woody, take the sock out of your trunks and shove it in your mouth.

JIMMY

So, you’re not splitting up.

ARETHA

No.

WOODY

I’m just trying to get some kind of reaction out of you, son. All you do is be all Mr. Negative about things. You’re a one-note Nancy. You seem unable to have a good time or do anything other than be terminally perturbed.

JIMMY

Just not happy about things, is all.

WOODY

You need a gal, like Aretha. But not Aretha, because she’s your mom.

JIMMY

What I need is to move away.

WOODY

Elyria, Ohio is a great place to stake your claim in the world. It’s done me good. As it did for my dad and his dad before him.

JIMMY

My life’s just not going anywhere. I need to get to someplace where more stuff is happening.

WOODY

Cleveland?

JIMMY

I was thinking Chicago.

WOODY

What the hell would you do in Chicago?

JIMMY

I don’t know. But I’d find something.

WOODY

It would be a shame if you left. Look, this is going to sound like I’m making it up after I tried to tell you Aretha and I were splitting up, but you know her doctor appointment the other day. We told you it was for a pap smear.

JIMMY

I remember, because I didn’t ask.

WOODY

Your mother has cancer.

JIMMY

What kind of cancer?

WOODY

Oh, you know. Woman cancer. Cancer of the coochie. She didn’t want you to know.

JIMMY

Aretha!

ARETHA

What?

JIMMY

How’s your vagina?

ARETHA

Fine, thank you. How’s yours?

(Woody laughs.)

WOODY

Good one, Aretha! Look, she doesn’t know yet. The doctors only told me.

JIMMY

They told you, but not her.

WOODY

Not easy news to get, Jimmy. What if I told you your dingle was rotting off? How would you like that?

JIMMY

I’d want to know. Mom! Dad says you have cancer.

ARETHA

Woody! Stop lying to the boy. I don’t have cancer.

WOODY

All right, son. She doesn’t have cancer. Yet. But look at her lying out in the sun like a drying piece of girlie jerky. She’ll get cancer soon enough.

JIMMY

Dad. I need to move on. After high school, all my friends moved or became people I no longer wanted to hang out with. There’s got to be more to life than working and drinking.

WOODY

There is. It’s called fucking. Get yourself a girlfriend.

JIMMY

I’ll be sure to look for one in Chicago.

WOODY

Look, I’m not like most dads, right?

JIMMY

That’s absolutely right.

WOODY

We’ve always been more than father and son. We’ve been best buds. You’re my best friend, Jimmy. What the hell would I do without you?

JIMMY

I’m just talking about moving, not dying. We can still be close. We’ll always be close.

WOODY

It’ll take some getting used to.

JIMMY

If I stay, I’ll be unhappy. You don’t want me to be unhappy, do you?


WOODY

Sure, I can live with that.

JIMMY

Well, I can’t.

ARETHA

Let the boy move to Chicago, Woody! Give us a reason to come visit him.

(Jimmy shrugs at his dad.)

WOODY

Give your old man a hug.

JIMMY

You’re practically naked.

(Woody grabs him, thrust his hips into him and gives him a big bear hug,)

WOODY

I’m going to miss you, son.

JIMMY

I’ll miss you, too. Can we go back to the beach? I think I’m standing on a severed hand.

(Blackout.)

2 comments:

Chris Othic said...

I liked this one quite a bit. The characters are really well-rounded.

A couple things:

Jimmy yelling at his mom "How's your vagina?" rang a little false for me, but you recovered nicely when we found out she didn't have cancer and Woody was just lying. Still don't know if Jimmy seems like the type to yell that at his mom.

I didn't like the out line ("standing on a severed hand"). I liked that Woody promised no dunking early in the scene (just a throwaway line). It would think Woody would just dunk him at the end of the scene after they had this big father-son moment. It might be diminished because Jimmy already went under early in the scene, but it seems like a more natural out and something Woody would definitely do.

Just a thought.

Joe Janes said...

Not sure on the vagina line myself, but I like her response. Great suggestion for the out.