Aftertaste

Season #1 Episode #1

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FADE IN:

EXT. MCCLOUD, CALIFORNIA – SUMMER (2013) (SUNSET)

SUPERIMPOSE:
MCCLOUD CALIFORNIA

JULY 4, 2013

EXT. MELODY RAE’S CABIN – WEDDING RECEPTION

Three stylish middle-aged women sit at a round table facing a pool. A bongo band is performing across the poolside.

CHARLENE RICHARDS—43, Canadian Italian, brassy, short (five-foot-one), long wavy blond haired, legal secretary.

CHARLENE:

So how long has it been since we’ve all

seen one another?

(beat)

What, like at least thirty years, right?!

(all the women nod)

You both look terrific by the way. And

Melody Rae, wow, how in the world did you

end up with such a great catch? Seriously,

he’s a-m-a-z-i-n-g.

LILLIAN BENNET—42, Native American, reserved, average(five-foot-five), long wispy dark brown haired, taxidermist.

LILLIAN:

He’s definitely not like other fish in the

sea, and I’ve had my fair share. But we

all thought YOU would never settle down.

MELODY RAE MURPHY-43, Irish Swedish American, tall (five-foot-ten), long curly, red-headed, dog groomer.

MELODY RAE:

It only took thirty years.

(beat)

I didn’t always make the healthiest

choices, gals. Trust me. I wasn’t always

Chianti and Caviar. If it wasn’t for Kat,

my therapist. . .

(CONTINUED)

Melody Rae toasts her wine glass up in the air toward Kat who approaches the table with a bottle of Chianti.

. . .and best friend, I wouldn’t have caught

the right fish for me.

KATARINA RAMIREZ—30, Spanish Japanese American, petite (five-foot-one), long straight dark brown haired, upper class, neurologist.

KAT:

She is not kidding. Before mister hot stuff

over there she ate a lot of cheap tuna and

kissed a lot of raw fish.

The table of girls erupt in laughter.

EXT. PORTLAND, OREGON – WINTER (JANUARY 1984)

SUPERIMPOSE:
JANUARY 1984

SUPERIMPOSE:

Shay Smith—Gay Shay

Sardine:
basic, odd, sensitive, effeminate, secretive, unusual, and simple with a strong flavor, but suspiciously slimy.

INT. GRANT HIGH SCHOOL – MORNING (36 degrees)

REVEAL:
Empty hallway. Clock above double doors reads ten past eight. Sounds of heavy rain outside can be heard.

Melody Rae enters through double doors breathing heavily, flings off the hood of her worn raincoat, fluffs the front and back of her long red hair, frizzy from the rain, locates the double door entrance to the music class, and walks in. Immediately inside the classroom, she sets down her sticker adorned violin case, adjusts her striped handbag at the shoulder, loosens her polka dot scarf around her neck, and examines the room. It’s a small class size of twenty students, and there are susurrus sounds and pointing. Most students are wearing black trench coats. In ungainly fashion, she climbs over two rows of bleacher

seats to an empty row, and then shuffles toward the center

and sits. Her eyes locate the instructor, who is standing behind a glass doorway of a tiny soundproof piano room having a discussion with a student. Her eyes scan the classroom, she sees the only student wearing a brown trench coat. He looks disheveled and out of place wearing a fedora hat and checkered scarf. His head is down, shoulders slumped with one eye staring at Melody Rae. As soon as their eyes meet, he nervously glances away and awkwardly fidgets in his seat. Melody Rae clumsily picks up her belongings and darts in his direction with bounce and confidence, stepping down over the bleacher seats until she reaches his row. She sets down the handbag and violin case to the right of her and then sits to the left, directly beside him. Her right hand outstretches to shake his.

SHAY SMITH—(Sardine) 16, English, reserved, average height, fair skinned, blond male.

MELODY RAE:

Hi, my name’s Melody Rae!

SHAY:

Um...uh...hiya, mate, Shay Smith...all right?

OVER A PERIOD OF TIME: Looking like a lonely puppy dog Shay follows Melody Rae everywhere, to class, to her car, to her front door, to coffee shops, etc.

Melody Rae makes various attempts to kiss him and each time fails. She leans in; he turns away, he ties his shoe, he looks at his watch, he sees his best friend, Patrick, and walks away.

SUPERIMPOSE:

Fishbone #1

Melody Rae and Shay dress up to go to a Halloween Party at Patrick’s parent’s house. They arrive, she as a flapper, and he also as a flapper. He looks better than she does.

TWO MONTHS LATER:

INT. SHAY’S PARENTS’ HOUSE – EARLY MORNING

Melody Rae is driving up to Shay’s parents’ house. There are Christmas decorations flourishing the lawn.

Upon opening the door to his room, she sees him pulling up his pants over the same fishnet stockings he wore on Halloween.

SHAY:

(guilty expression)

What? They’re comfortable.

MELODY RAE:

(Shakes her head uncomfortably)

Okay.

SUPERIMPOSE:

Fishbone #2

PATRICK THOMPSON—(Shay’s best friend) 17, tall, blond, flamboyant, openly gay male.

INT. PATRICK’S PARENT’S SWANKY ABODE – (Late night party)

Patrick is mixing drinks from his parents well stocked bar and then meandering about like a waiter, winding through the large house serving everyone.

Patrick offers a drink to Melody Rae.

Melody Rae shakes her head.

PATRICK:

Suit yourself.

MELODY RAE:

(Reaching for a coke from the

Refrigerator)

Parents off on sabbatical...again?

PATRICK:

(chuckles)

Naturally. No reason to let a huge empty

house go to waste.

Melody Rae smiles, walks downstairs through the pool room, and out the French patio doors which leads to a sunken hot tub embedded into a long wooden veranda that extends the length of the house. Hipsters are gathered on the couch looking at the latest magazines. Thespians are playing pool and smoking Kretek clove cigarettes. Shay is chatting with a tall thespian wearing a jester hat, left hand on the back of his hip, positioning all his weight onto his right, and smoking. Hippies and stoners are outside huddled by a tree on the side of the house staring at nothing while the intellectuals and nerd/techies are huddled in a deep political conversation. Names of president’s can be heard now and again.

Melody Rae walks sits on the edge of the porch dangling her feet and staring into the fog. Her body stiffens, hearing a slight murmurous sound, and then relaxes when she hears the pleasant sound of the classic Bob Marley and The Wailers reggae tune “Three Little Birds” radiating from the nearby bedroom window. Looking down, she can’t see her feet, the nebulous fog covering them like soft blankets of dust clouds floating up to the bottom of her ankles. She stands and walks to where there is a vacant wooden Adirondack patio chair against the wall of the house. Once she sits, Dwight and Eric (chess nerds), come out the French doors and sit on the porch deck near her.

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