Antwone Fisher Page #2

---

Come on, you must have|some feelings about it.

You know, you--|What did it feel like?

Rainy days.

Rainy days? Okay.

Why is that?

You know,|in Cleveland...

it rains.|Not all the time...

but, uh, to a kid...

who wants to go out|and play...

it seems like it|rains every day.

But, uh...

kids expect it|to rain sometimes...

but...for one kid...

it rained too much.

Hmm.

Okay.

You want me to|come back next week?

Yes, I do.

You ever try to|find her, your mother?

No, sir.

Okay. Next week.

Busy day?

Uh, no more than usual.

Hmm.

The tomatoes are|from our garden.

Yeah?

Mmm. They're so much|better than last year.

Heh heh.

I mean, I'm no green|thumb or anything...

but...heh heh.

Who knows?|Maybe I'm learning.

These tomatoes|really are good.

Reverend Tate:
|# I don't know psychology #

Reverend Tate:
|# I don't know psychology #

# I don't know astrology #

# I don't know|zoology, ha #

# But I know this, ahh #

#Jesus #

#Jesus, ha #

#Jesus #

[ Skipped item nr. 302 ]

#Jesus #

Antwone, Voice-over:|When I was 2...

I was placed in the Tate|foster home.

Reverend Tate, he was|a fire-breathing preacher.

He had his own|storefront church.

There was only|a few members.

There was Ms. Tate,|cousin Nadine...

my foster brothers Keith--

Keith was half white--

Dwight, and me.

# Good God, yeah #

It was church 3 times|on Sunday...

Bible study on Tuesday...

Y.P.W.W. meetings|on Thursday...

choir rehearsal on Friday.

We found out if we caught|the Holy Ghost...

in front of Ms. Tate...

she'd give us vanilla|wafers after church.

So we'd catch it|every Sunday.

# Hallelujah #

# Hallelujah #

# Hallelujah,|hallelujah #

# Hallelujah,|hallelujah #

# Good God #

# Come on, church #

# Show me #

Reverend Tate...

he didn't like|Dwight at all.

He said he had|too much pride.

So he tried to|beat it out of him.

Sometimes, he would even|try to beat him to death.

Did he beat you?

No, sir.|I think he pitied me.

And I liked him|for it...

but I was|ashamed of him.

What about Mrs. Tate?

What about her?

I don't know which one|of you no-good rotten...

hardheaded n*ggers put your|dirty hands on my walls...

but I bet I'll get|the right one.

I took you in...

when your no-account mammies|threw you away...

and this is|the thanks I get?

Tsk.

You ungrateful n*ggers.

[Boys Whimpering]

[Wailing]

Hmph. Now I know|I got the right one.

Antwone, Voice-over:|She used to brag about...

beating me unconscious.

Hmph.

She'd threaten|to do it again.

But she never did.

Why do you think|she never did?

Uh...maybe|she was scared.

She found a new way|to get me, though.

[Young Antwone Panting]

So you like fire, huh?

No, Muh-deah,|no, Muh-deah...

I don't like fire.

You...

stay...

away from things that|don't belong to you.

You hear me?

You hear me?!

Yes, yes, Muh-deah!

You hear me?!|Yes!

Dumb n*gger.

[Door Creaks Shut]

Antwone:
I tried|everything I could...

to get her to like me...

and nothing ever worked.

Were you the youngest|of the foster children?

No, Dwight was|the youngest.

I was in the middle,|and Keith was the oldest.

Ms. Tate, she used to|put us against each other...

so much, we started|hating each other.

But I think deep down|inside...

we really hated|ourselves.

What do you mean?

Keith was half white.

She would try to|compare Keith...

to me and Dwight.

You know, he had|the good hair...

and we had|the bad hair.

She used to say how|Keith was better than us...

because his father|was white.

I wished I was Keith.

Mmhh.

But not even Keith|could escape...

from being called|a n*gger.

She hardly used our names.

She said the word|n*gger so often...

called us n*ggers so often...

that we could tell...

who she was|talking to by...

the way she said|the word n*gger.

What happened to|Dwight and Keith?

Dwight is in Lucasville|State Penitentiary.

Keith got taken back|by his mother.

He was raped by|one of her boyfriends.

Mmhh.

Did what happen to|Keith happen to you?

Hell, no.

Okay.

Okay. Was|Mrs. Tate ever--

Was she ever|nice to you?

Yeah, there were times.

Sometimes she would|tell her friends that...

we were good kids and that|she was proud of us.

Chummy times.

Chummy times?

Yeah. I got to where|I could tell...

what kind of day|it was gonna be...

by the scent in the air|when I awoke.

How could you tell?

Well, if I awoke|and there was the smell...

of grits and eggs...

or water steaming off|the pavement...

as she hosed it down...

I had to look out|all day.

But...if I smelled|pancakes...

everything was okay.

She make pancakes|very often?

No, sir.

I can delay|my next appointment...

if you want to|talk some more.

No, sir.

Hey, Slim.

What?

You going home|next leave?

Hell, yeah. I gotta|tend to the flock.

Hey, when I get leave...

I'm gonna be|like a--a vampire...

coming to town|with his coffin.

Just a place to|lay before I get down.

What's that mean?

Man, shut up.|People trying to sleep.

Aw, shut your grouchy|ass up.Jesus!

Hey, when you going|home, Pork Chop?

When your mama|quit tripping...

and send me|my money. Ha ha ha!

What about you, Fish?

When you going home?

Fish?

Fish!

Antwone, Voice-over:|Last night...

I had a dream|aboutJesse.

Davenport, Voice-over:|Who's Jesse?

He was my best friend.

When I wasn't at home...

I was probably wherever|Jesse was for 3 reasons.

One was, being his friend...

he wouldn't beat me up.

Hey,Jesse, look!|I got 5!

And the other reasons were--|so he wouldn't beat me up.

I only got 3.

I liked him a whole lot.

Give me yours.

We used to drive|our friend Kenny crazy.

Let's get Kenny.

Kenny hung around me...

for the same reasons|I hung around Jesse.

Hey, Kenny,|let me see.

Where's Jesse?

Ugh!

Aah! Stop, stop! Get 'em|off, get 'em off!.

Hey, Kenny,|what's wrong?

Hey, Kenny,|don't forget to write!

Hey, Kenny,|don't forget to write!

Ms. Tate, she hated Jesse.

She hated seeing us|together even more.

But for years, she couldn't|keep us apart.

I was so happy|when she kicked me out.

Mrs. Tate:
Twonny.

That hoodlum niggerJesse|call up here askin' for you.

[ Skipped item nr. 479 ]

Said something about y'all|going to the picture show.

Now, that's|the devil's work...

and who told you|you could go...

to the picture show,|anyhow?

I mean, where you get|the money, n*gger?

Did you steal it?

I already told you.|I've been raking lawns.

Well,|you woulda stole it.

Give me the money.

I said gimme the money.

You don't know what to do|with no money nohow.

That's why I never|let you have none.

Why you always got|to make things...

difficult for me?

Difficult?

Difficult.

Where you learnin'|such fancy words at?

Fancy?|Ain't no fancy word.

Don't sassy me, boy.

No one's|sassing you.

Don't sassy me!

Ain't no one|sassing you!

Don't you--

I ain't gonna let you|beat me no more!

No more!

Lord Jesus.

I want you out|of my house.

Hmm?

And who you think|gonna take you in, huh?

Retarded n*gger,|don't nobody want you.

Your damn mammy|didn't even want you.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes