Lost in America Page #16

---

DAVID:

Listen, I think you're right, we're

going to jinx this thing. Let's

just keep the mystery. It's more

exciting that way.

CUT TO:

50INT. SCHOOL BASEMENT - THE NEXT DAY

David is standing with an older MAN in front of a

locker. The Man takes out a uniform.

MAN:

Now, this won't fit you exactly

'cause the fellow who had this

before was about eighty and very

heavy, but if you go up to the

nurse's office they'll take it in.

DAVID:

Thank you.

MAN:

Now, I don't have the sign here,

but do you understand? It's stop

on one side...

DAVID:

(interrupts)

Yes. Go on the other.

MAN:

No. If you're going to interrupt

me I'm not going to be able to

explain it. It's stop an one

side and stop on the other. It's

just a stop sign. So, when you

want people to go you'll have to

hide the sign.

DAVID:

That's right. I remember. You

just put it down so people can't

see.

MAN:

That's right. Behind your back

is generally the best place.

DAVID:

Yes. I think, basically, this job

hasn't changed since I went to

school.

MAN:

Aren't you a little young for this

kind of work?

DAVID:

I don't think so. Why?

MAN:

Well, all the other guards here

have been in their late sixties or

seventies. We had one who was

fifty once but that's as young

as I can remember.

DAVID:

Well, times are changing. I

mean stereotypes have to be

broken sometime, don't they?

MAN:

I guess they do. I never thought

they did but yeah, I guess they do.

Okay. Happy to have you here and I

guess all you should know is that

some of these children are rude.

DAVID:

Well, all children are rude.

MAN:

Well, these children are a little

ruder than they used to be. You

see we had this cutback in the

school lunch program and sometimes

they're hungry. And you know what

happens when you're hungry? You

get a little bit ornery. I guess

what I'm saying is you'll need a

little bit of tolerance.

DAVID:

Oh, tolerance is my middle name.

Believe me.

CUT TO:

51EXT. STREET SCENE - DAY

David is at the crosswalk. He's leading a group of

CHILDREN across the street. They are about twelve

years old. Obviously, old enough to cross by them-

selves. David greets them. He wants to make a good

impression. God knows why.

DAVID:

Hello, children. How was school?

CHILD #1

Screw you!

CHILD #2

Yeah. Mind your own business.

DAVID:

Ah. You must be two of the hungry

ones.

The Kids glare at him. David walks back across the

street alone. David is waiting. A bunch of KIDS, a

little older, about six of them, walk up. One of them

says:

OLDER KID #1

Hey, who's the new Retardo?

DAVID:

Oh, my goodness. More hungry

children. You want to cross the

street?

OLDER KID #1

Yeah, Retardo.

DAVID:

My name is David. I would appreciate

not being called that name. It's an

ugly name.

OLDER KID #2

Ugly name for an ugly face.

DAVID:

I see no reason to walk future

prisoners across the street. Why

don't you get some practice working

on your own right now since you'll

probably be in solitary most of your

life. You can handle it.

OLDER KID #2

No, man. That's what you're paid

for. Come on. Take us across the

street.

DAVID:

No, I can't take you across the

street and, also, I'm allowed to

make judgments. If I think someone

shouldn't be allowed to cross the

street I'm allowed to deny them

that privilege. So, if you want

to cross, you'll have to cross on

your own.

OLDER KID #2

Hey, no. No, man. You work for

us. Let's go.

DAVID:

What do you mean let's go? Is

that a threat? Be careful. I've

got a metal sign here.

OLDER KID #2

(takes out a knife)

Yeah? I've got a metal knife.

DAVID:

Knife wins. Come on.

He leads them across the street. David walks back alone,

mumbling. He sits in his little chair. There's no

action and no children. Cars are passing by. A new

black MERCEDES SCREECHES UP. The passenger window is

electrically lowered. A GUY, in his early 30's, calls

to David.

DRIVER:

Mister?

DAVID:

Call me David. I'm your age. I

look a little older because I'm

in this uniform.

DRIVER:

David, how do I get out of this

place? Actually, what is this

place?

DAVID:

What do you mean?

DRIVER:

What town is this?

DAVID:

Prescott.

DRIVER:

Jesus Christ. I'm lost. How do

I get to Phoenix?

DAVID:

You have to get on Highway 90. So,

what you do is go down about two

miles, you'll come to a stoplight,

you turn right and keep going and

you'll see a sign.

DRIVER:

Two miles down and then right?

DAVID:

That's it.

DRIVER:

Thanks, man.

DAVID:

Hold it.

David approaches the car. He sticks his head inside and

starts sniffing, rather intensely.

DRIVER:

What are you doing? Stop doing

that. Get away.

DAVID:

I'm just smelling the interior.

This is leather, isn't it?

DRIVER:

It's Mercedes Leather. They call

it leather but it's vinyl. Smells

like leather, though. Huh?

DAVID:

(still sniffing)

Yeah it does. You like this car?

DRIVER:

What's not to like? Hey, thanks,

man. See ya.

He floors it and tears off into the distance. David

watches the car slowly disappear. He's still sniffing.

DAVID:

(to himself)

It smelled like leather. They

must spray it with something.

Interrupting David's thought is a CHILD'S VOICE coming

from behind him.

CHILD:

Hey, Retardo! Over here!

DAVID:

(to himself)

Without even looking I'm sure he

means me.

CUT TO:

52INT. MOTOR HOME - NIGHTTIME

David enters. Nancy is taking off her coat. David can

see that she has on a uniform. It's a candy-striped

short skirt and blouse. Also, she has on a candy-

striped apron and hat. It looks familiar but David

can't quite place it.

DAVID:

Hi.

Nancy turns around.

NANCY:

My God! You scared me.

They stare at each other, each looking at the other's

uniform.

NANCY:

(continuing)

You got your job?

DAVID:

Yes. Did you get yours?

NANCY:

Yes. Yes, I did.

DAVID:

Is that a uniform you're wearing?

NANCY:

Of course. What did you think, I

bought this?

DAVID:

What do you do?

NANCY:

I work at Burger King. I got

it. I'm the assistant manager.

DAVID:

Burger King?

NANCY:

The reason I wasn't sure last

night was because the manager said

he needed time to sleep on it, but

this morning he told me he made his

decision as soon as I left. He just

didn't know how to get hold of me.

DAVID:

Hold it a second. Burger King?

The hamburger place?

Just after David finishes this sentence, we hear the

TOILET FLUSH. Out comes SKIP, a nineteen-year-old boy,

dressed in the male version of the same uniform Nancy

is wearing. Skip is one of those kids who talks like

he's from Torrance, through his nose, blending all syl-

lables into one, a kid whose speech could mask his

intelligence, if there was intelligence to be masked.

DAVID:

(continuing)

Nancy, who's this child?

NANCY:

Oh. This is Skip. He's the

manager. He wanted to see

where we live.

David just stares. His image of the "Manager" was

obviously way off.

SKIP:

Hey, thanks, Nancy. Wow, this is

like a real home. Now, when you

flush the toilet, where does it go?

Before Nancy can answer, Skip sees David.

SKIP:

(continuing)

Oh, wow! Who's the crossing guard?

Rate this script:4.5 / 2 votes