STILL LIFE

A Short Screenplay
By Marc Prey
FADE IN:

EXT. SMALL HOUSE -- MORNING

A modest house set close to a two-lane blacktop slicing

through a rural countryside like a snake.

WE MOVE to the rear of the house.

EXT. SMALL HOUSE -- BACKYARD -- CONTINUOUS

A rusty swingset stands like a monument in one corner of the

yard. The toys of a school-age child are scattered about.

After a moment, an eight-year-old boy -- TRAVIS -- sticks

his head out the back door.

TRAVIS
(calling out)
Buster!...Buster!

As tires SCREECH on the highway, we

FADE TO BLACK.

TITLE: STILL LIFE

FADE IN:

EXT. SMALL HOUSE -- BACKYARD -- DAY

TRAVIS and his parents -- HANK (30ish, hard as concrete) and

MAUREEN (late 20s, on the edge) -- stand in a corner of the
yard, where a hole has been dug. Maureen appears disheveled,
emotional. Hank appears distracted, bothered.

CLOSE UP of the hole, where a bundle wrapped in a ratty, old

blanket rests.

AS WE HOLD on the bundle, dirt begins to rain down upon it.

ADULT TRAVIS (V.O.)

The day I turned eight, my ol' man
dug a hole in our backyard.

AS WE PULL BACK, Hank continues to shovel dirt into the hole.

ADULT TRAVIS (V.O.)

That's where we buried my dog, Buster.

Another scoop of dirt is deposited into the hole.

 2.

ADULT TRAVIS (V.O.)

Turns out, he wasn't the only thing
that died that day.

A few more shovels full of dirt, and the hole is filled.

HANK
That should do it.

MAUREEN
Travis, would you like to say
something?

HANK
(annoyed)
Really, Maureen?

MAUREEN
For closure, Hank.

HANK
(shaking head)
Closure...

MAUREEN
Go ahead, honey. Speak your mind.

Travis looks at his father, then at his mother, who nods.

TRAVIS
I'm gonna miss you, Buster. You
were my best friend in the whole
world. Promise I won't forget you.

HANK
How you gonna forget? Damn thing's
buried in the backyard.

MAUREEN
Hank!
(then, to Travis)
Don't listen to your father. This
ain't Buster anymore. His spirit's
up in heaven.

TRAVIS
Ya really think so, Ma?

MAUREEN
I do. God's taking care of Buster
now.
 3.

HANK
Why you gotta lie to the boy, Maureen?

MAUREEN
I'm not lying.

HANK
World's gone to hell. Sooner he
learns, the better.

Her face contorts, as she battles to contain her emotions.

MAUREEN
You're talking about an eight-year-
old child, Hank. He shouldn't have
to worry about things like that.

HANK
So he shouldn't have to worry about
his old man losing his job? Or where
the money's gonna come from to pay
for a roof over his head?

MAUREEN
No. Especially not today, on his
birthday.

HANK
Stop babying the boy -- he ain't
three no more. One day he's gonna
get fired, and if he ain't prepared,
he's gonna take it real hard.

MAUREEN
Like you?

HANK
That's right, Maureen. Make a joke
out of it.

Maureen softens slightly.

MAUREEN
I'm not making fun of you, Hank. I
just wish you'd stop being so negative
around your son.

HANK
Negative? I'll give you negative.
 4.

MAUREEN
Don't Hank!

Ignoring her plea, he turns to the Travis, who stands there

planted in the ground like a young maple.

HANK
Time you learned there ain't no
heaven, boy.

MAUREEN
Please, stop--

HANK
Not for you, not for me, and specially
not for some mangy ol' mutt.

Tears begin to well up in the boy's eyes.

MAUREEN
Please, Hank!

HANK
You die, and that's it. End of story.

Losing the battle with her emotions, Maureen's eyes spit

poison at Hank. She'd probably shoot him if she only had a
gun.

MAUREEN
You...bastard!

She hurries toward the back door, refusing to let Hank see
the tears streaming down her face.

HANK
I been called worse!

Hank and Travis watch as she enters the house, slamming the
back door shut behind her.

Hank exhales loudly.

HANK
You try and you try, but sometimes
it just ain't worth it.

He looks at Travis, who wipes a tear with his sleeve.

HANK
One day, you'll get it.
 5.

From the look on Travis' face, it's clear that day is a long
way off.

HANK
Think you can put this away in the
garage?

Hank pushes the handle of the spade toward his son. Travis
nods, grabs the spade.

HANK
While you're at it, how 'bout
straightening up the mess in there.

TRAVIS
(softly)
Yes sir.

Travis shuffles toward the garage.

INT. GARAGE -- LATER

The garage is, indeed, a mess. We find Travis stacking up

old boxes.

From an open window in the house comes the following

conversation:

MAUREEN (O.S.)
Where's Travis?

HANK (O.S.)
Cleaning the garage.

MAUREEN (O.S.)
It's his birthday, Hank. And the
poor thing's dog just died.

HANK (O.S.)
Yeah, and the garage is a goddamn
mess!

CUT TO:

INT. SMALL HOUSE -- KITCHEN -- CONTINUOUS

A small, modestly-decorated kitchen, with linoleum on the

floor and yellowed wallpaper on the walls.

Maureen stands at the sink, looking out a window into the

backyard. Hank stands in the doorway holding a beer.
 6.

MAUREEN
This ain't about the garage, is it
Hank?

HANK
The hell's that supposed to mean?

She turns to face him.

MAUREEN
You're mad at the world and you're
gonna take it out on everyone around
you.

HANK
Don't give me no shrink bullshit! I
love the boy as much as you do,
Maureen.

MAUREEN
Really...

HANK
The only difference is, I'm tryin'
to make a man outta him.

MAUREEN
To do that, don't you first have to
be a man yourself?

Hank freezes for a moment.

HANK
What'd you say?

MAUREEN
I'm sayin' a man who just lost his
job cuz of a drinking problem would
probably do something to change
things. Like, I don't know...stop
drinking.

HANK
You want me to stop drinking?

MAUREEN
That would be a start.

HANK
Okay...
 7.

Suddenly, he whips his can of beer in the direction of his

wife. It misses her and smashes against a cabinet door,
splattering beer across the counter top.

Maureen barely flinches.

HANK
How's that?

MAUREEN
(sarcastic)
That's just great, Hank. Now you're
a real man.

A BEAT, as they stare at each other.

HANK
Bullshit.

He turns, walks out of the room.

Maureen grabs a rag. As she begins wiping up the splattered

beer, Travis enters through the back door.

TRAVIS
Everything okay, Ma?

MAUREEN
Everything's fine, honey. Why don't
you come sit down. I'll fix you a
sandwich.

EXT. SMALL HOUSE -- FRONT PORCH -- LATER

It's a hot summer afternoon. The air is almost too thick to

breathe.

Travis sits in a chair on the front porch, fiddling with a

dog collar.

After a moment, the front door opens. Hank exits the house
carrying a beat-up suitcase, walks over to his son.

Travis looks up at his father, finds a face twisted with

emotion.

A BEAT, as Hank searches for the right words.

HANK
You...you take care of your mother,
ya hear?
 8.

Travis nods, not sure what the words really mean.

HANK
Good...Do your school work and stay
outta trouble. Maybe you won't turn
out like me.

Hank takes one last look at his son. Then exhales and steps
down from the porch, heading in the direction of an old pickup
truck parked in the driveway.

With a blank stare, Travis watches him go.

ADULT TRAVIS (V.O.)

My ol' man left us that day...I heard
later that he moved to a different
state, looking for work.

The pickup's engine rumbles to life, then Hank backs it out

of the driveway.

ADULT TRAVIS (V.O.)

My mother -- she prayed he'd find
Jesus and come back to us.

The pickup takes off down the road.

ADULT TRAVIS (V.O.)

But of course, that never happened.

On the porch, Travis rises out of his chair to watch the

pickup as it continues down the road, finally disappearing
from view.

A BEAT, then Travis suddenly WHIPS the dog collar toward the
road.

CLOSE ON the boy, his face flush with anger, his chest
heaving.

ADULT TRAVIS (V.O.)

Back then, I blamed ol' Buster for
what happened that day...

WE PULL BACK from Travis, standing there all alone on the

porch, his world completely shattered.

ADULT TRAVIS (V.O.)

But now I know we're all to blame.

FADE TO BLACK.