Hello, Readers. I think we're back on track now. Not sure what happened over the past week but... Forget it.
This is the first installment of a piece that our resident scribbler Dan Budnik is working on. It's holiday-themed so he will be sending us new sections up until Christmas. Here's hoping it makes sense by then.
- Marlene Y
Trees (1) by Daniel R. Budnik
EXT. – PARKING LOT – 9:30 AM - SATURDAY
This is the main setting for our story.
It is a large lot that houses a Catholic grammar school. We are in a cul-de-sac portion in back of the school.
One side of the lot is the school. One side is the wall for the cafeteria with a large dumpster in front of it. The other side is the fenced-in field.
Large goalposts are on either end of this very long field. In a far corner, there is a baseball diamond, bleachers and a fence backdrop.
CLOSE TO THE FENCE, within the field, are the trees. Christmas trees, about three dozen of them are spread out across a rather large space. Set up like a miniature forest. Strings of lights stretch over the top of them.
Off to one side, there is a mid-sized trailer that has seen better days. There are large rust stains, it is a very unpleasant greenish color and, boy, is it wobbly.
You walk in through the gate and the trees are in front of you. Trailer to the left.
There is a sign reading “XMAS TREES FOR SALE! SUPPORT BOY SCOUT TROOP 326!/ Thursday and Friday: 5-9PM/ Saturday-Sunday 10AM-8PM…Until December 23.”
There is snow everywhere in the field. The parking lot has been recently plowed. The piles of snow are mushed up against the dumpster wall. Occasional flakes of snow waft down.
A large car pulls up and parks. A large man, MR. VYVENBERG, steps out. When I say large, I mean very hefty.
This is the Scout Master. He is alone, with a large cup of coffee and a big, big belly. He is opening the field gate for a new day of selling. The door swings open with a loud creak.
Mr. V has a look at the trees and smiles. They are very festively draped in snow. He swipes at one and a cloud bursts off of it.
Mr. V is very bundled up and his breath his very visible. He trudges to the trailer, which has a cinder block for a step up and in.
The Scout Master lifts himself onto it and unlocks the door. He steps inside. The door closes behind him.
We stay outside. The trailer moves around rather alarmingly with him inside. The trailer is really gross and stained at this distance. There is something leaking out of the side.
There are two small windows on the front and a small vent on each side. On the back, there is one small window that may have something blocking a portion of it.
There is the continued sound of something moving around inside. The trailer shifts and lists. Several very loud creaks don’t bode well for the structure.
After a long moment, the back supports buckle, twist, snap and drop. There is a loud yell as the entire thing creaks over, swiftly. It stops on its base at a jaunty angle. But, Mr. V doesn’t fare as well. After a dangerous pause, there is another yell and his body bursts, in a very awkward fashion, through the window. It drops into the snow.
CUT TO
EXT. – PARKING LOT – SOON AFTER
Three boys are watching a whirring ambulance pull away.
13-year-old DAVE, smart kid with some sass/ 13-year-old KEITH, smart also but rather vague looking/ 11-year-old LOUIS with a Scandinavian accent. He seems rather bewildered.
After a moment, an adult voice is heard. MR. THOMSON an asst. Scout Master. MR T is around 50. Mostly bald, with glasses. He always smells of cigarette smoke and, possibly, booze. He has a tendency to get to close to you while talking.
MR T
(OS)
Boys, it’s a rough thing when someone you know is
seriously hurt…
Mr. T leans into the boys. A little too close. They all lean back.
MR T
…but I just want you to know that I’m here to help
you at any time
BOYS
Thanks, Mr Thomson.
MR T
Maybe when things die down a little, if we get a
chance, we can practice some knots.
LOUIS smiles but the other two aren’t so thrilled. MR T pats DAVE and KEITH’s heads and goes away. The boys watch him leave. DAVE starts smiling.
DAVE
I can’t believe the trailer fell on top of Mr. Vyvenberg.
KEITH
That’s weird.
LOUIS
I hope he’s all right for Christmas.
The other two nod.
MR T
(OS)
Let’s get to work, boys.
The boys get to work.
WE SEE that several large thick concrete blocks now prop up the trailer. It doesn’t look any sturdier. But, it might not fall over. LOUIS’s Dad, SVEL is walking around it.
MR T approaches. The boys are off in the distance.
MR T
How’s it look, Svel?
SVEL
I think it’ll stand. I think
The boys zip around to the back. There is some debris spread throughout the crushed down snow along with a little red mixed in.
KEITH
Oh no. Ouch… That looks bad…
DAVE
Isn’t it going to be really cold in there?
DAVE scans around the site and spots something in the ground.
LOUIS
Well, he brought some cocoa didn’t he?
DAVE lifts something from the snow. It is the cocoa and coffee bag. As snow falls from it, so does cocoa and coffee. Smashed from the packets.
DAVE
I hope we have some left over.
LOUIS
This is the main setting for our story.
It is a large lot that houses a Catholic grammar school. We are in a cul-de-sac portion in back of the school.
One side of the lot is the school. One side is the wall for the cafeteria with a large dumpster in front of it. The other side is the fenced-in field.
Large goalposts are on either end of this very long field. In a far corner, there is a baseball diamond, bleachers and a fence backdrop.
CLOSE TO THE FENCE, within the field, are the trees. Christmas trees, about three dozen of them are spread out across a rather large space. Set up like a miniature forest. Strings of lights stretch over the top of them.
Off to one side, there is a mid-sized trailer that has seen better days. There are large rust stains, it is a very unpleasant greenish color and, boy, is it wobbly.
You walk in through the gate and the trees are in front of you. Trailer to the left.
There is a sign reading “XMAS TREES FOR SALE! SUPPORT BOY SCOUT TROOP 326!/ Thursday and Friday: 5-9PM/ Saturday-Sunday 10AM-8PM…Until December 23.”
There is snow everywhere in the field. The parking lot has been recently plowed. The piles of snow are mushed up against the dumpster wall. Occasional flakes of snow waft down.
A large car pulls up and parks. A large man, MR. VYVENBERG, steps out. When I say large, I mean very hefty.
This is the Scout Master. He is alone, with a large cup of coffee and a big, big belly. He is opening the field gate for a new day of selling. The door swings open with a loud creak.
Mr. V has a look at the trees and smiles. They are very festively draped in snow. He swipes at one and a cloud bursts off of it.
Mr. V is very bundled up and his breath his very visible. He trudges to the trailer, which has a cinder block for a step up and in.
The Scout Master lifts himself onto it and unlocks the door. He steps inside. The door closes behind him.
We stay outside. The trailer moves around rather alarmingly with him inside. The trailer is really gross and stained at this distance. There is something leaking out of the side.
There are two small windows on the front and a small vent on each side. On the back, there is one small window that may have something blocking a portion of it.
There is the continued sound of something moving around inside. The trailer shifts and lists. Several very loud creaks don’t bode well for the structure.
After a long moment, the back supports buckle, twist, snap and drop. There is a loud yell as the entire thing creaks over, swiftly. It stops on its base at a jaunty angle. But, Mr. V doesn’t fare as well. After a dangerous pause, there is another yell and his body bursts, in a very awkward fashion, through the window. It drops into the snow.
CUT TO
EXT. – PARKING LOT – SOON AFTER
Three boys are watching a whirring ambulance pull away.
13-year-old DAVE, smart kid with some sass/ 13-year-old KEITH, smart also but rather vague looking/ 11-year-old LOUIS with a Scandinavian accent. He seems rather bewildered.
After a moment, an adult voice is heard. MR. THOMSON an asst. Scout Master. MR T is around 50. Mostly bald, with glasses. He always smells of cigarette smoke and, possibly, booze. He has a tendency to get to close to you while talking.
MR T
(OS)
Boys, it’s a rough thing when someone you know is
seriously hurt…
Mr. T leans into the boys. A little too close. They all lean back.
MR T
…but I just want you to know that I’m here to help
you at any time
BOYS
Thanks, Mr Thomson.
MR T
Maybe when things die down a little, if we get a
chance, we can practice some knots.
LOUIS smiles but the other two aren’t so thrilled. MR T pats DAVE and KEITH’s heads and goes away. The boys watch him leave. DAVE starts smiling.
DAVE
I can’t believe the trailer fell on top of Mr. Vyvenberg.
KEITH
That’s weird.
LOUIS
I hope he’s all right for Christmas.
The other two nod.
MR T
(OS)
Let’s get to work, boys.
The boys get to work.
WE SEE that several large thick concrete blocks now prop up the trailer. It doesn’t look any sturdier. But, it might not fall over. LOUIS’s Dad, SVEL is walking around it.
MR T approaches. The boys are off in the distance.
MR T
How’s it look, Svel?
SVEL
I think it’ll stand. I think
The boys zip around to the back. There is some debris spread throughout the crushed down snow along with a little red mixed in.
KEITH
Oh no. Ouch… That looks bad…
DAVE
Isn’t it going to be really cold in there?
DAVE scans around the site and spots something in the ground.
LOUIS
Well, he brought some cocoa didn’t he?
DAVE lifts something from the snow. It is the cocoa and coffee bag. As snow falls from it, so does cocoa and coffee. Smashed from the packets.
DAVE
I hope we have some left over.
LOUIS
Cocoa!
KEITH
We’re gonna freeze.
MR T pokes his head out of the broken window.
MR T
Allright, boys. Here’s what needs doin’! Get out to the
trees. Pat the snow off. Don’t scrape it. Pat it. You’ll
tear the needles off if you scrape. Make sure the sign’s up.
The boys start walking away while MR T is talking.
KEITH
We’re gonna freeze.
MR T pokes his head out of the broken window.
MR T
Allright, boys. Here’s what needs doin’! Get out to the
trees. Pat the snow off. Don’t scrape it. Pat it. You’ll
tear the needles off if you scrape. Make sure the sign’s up.
The boys start walking away while MR T is talking.
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