"The Vine"

This is an excerpt from my screenplay The Vine for your reading pleasure. The formatting got a little lost in translation. Please don't be offended at the mention of bloody children, it's all part of the stew.

INT. MOUNT SINAI HOSPITAL

As Lelaina slowly comes to, she hears a far off telephone ring and the sound of wheels on the polished floor. BETH ANNE, a perky southern belle, and CHET, clean cut and slightly prissy, speak to each other in low voices. They haven’t noticed that she’s awake yet.

BETH ANNE
I would appreciate it if you would participate in our prayer circle.

CHET
I’m Jewish, Beth Anne.

BETH ANNE
Why do you have to be so difficult?
(to her daughter)
Melissa, baby, leave that curtain alone.

CHET
What the hell’s wrong with your kids?

BETH ANNE
Don’t speak in that tone of voice to me, Chet.

LELAINA
Beth Anne?

BETH ANNE
(Suddenly cheerful)
Well would you look who’s up! Hey sis!
Lelaina stares into Beth Anne’s cheery face.

The curtain to the bed next door flies open behind Beth Anne.

CHET
Are you thirsty or anything? Beth Anne, she’s opening the curtain again.

BETH ANNE
What? Oh, Melissa!
Beth Anne runs after her child, who giggles and runs away. Her laughter jogs Lelaina’s memory. The sound of the bloody child by the pool resonates in her head.

LELAINA
(To Chet)
Am I dead?

CHET
No, honey, of course not.
Beth Anne picks up Melissa, a mischievous looking 3-year old who grabs at everything within her reach. The child starts to play with one of the machine cords.

CHET (CONT’D)
Don’t touch that, kid!

BETH ANNE
Melissa, you stop that. You’re gonna send Aunty Lili back into oblivion...

CHET
Can you please control your twenty five children--

BETH ANNE
Excuse me but I have four children. And don’t you dare spread your poison to me just because Jesus doesn’t bless homosexuals with babies.

CHET
(Mocking)
And this little piggy went wee wee wee all the way back to the trailer park.

LELAINA
How long have I been here?

CHET
Three days.

BETH ANNE
The doctor pumped your stomach, sugar. You’re as right as rain.

LELAINA
(Suddenly hostile)
Which one of you bastards called?
Chet and Beth Anne exchange worried glances.

BETH ANNE
Pardon?

LELAINA
You heard me! Who fucking called the cops!

CHET
(Taken aback)
Jesus.

LELAINA
JESUS?

BETH ANNE
(Accusingly to Chet)
You stop that! Lili, it was an anonymous phone call that saved your life. We don’t know who found you.
They all stare awkwardly at each other. Silence. Melissa yanks on something. Lelaina yells out in pain.

CHET
For fuck’s sake!

BETH ANNE
Language!

LELAINA
Was that my IV?

CHET
(To Beth Anne)
How about you grab a nurse, okay Rosemary? And you, little girl, you go wait outside before I lock you in the syringe closet.
Melissa starts to wail.

BETH ANNE
Nurse! Oh, Melissa honey, it’s okay. There is no syringe closet.

Welcoming the Gravy Train

Gravy train
n. Slang.

An occupation or other source of income that requires little effort while yielding considerable profit.

I guess that I'm a little curious about the gravy train. Does it look like the polar express, or does it more resemble the LIRR? Is it like the new N train that everyone in Queens calls the "unicorn" due to the fact that you only see it on magical occasions? Does it smell good?

I've had little exposure to this phenomenon growing up, but caught glimpses of it during "What I did this summer" stories in English class in the 6th grade. "Me and my parents went to Ireland" "Me and my parents went to our house in California". Mine was more like, "Me and my three siblings sat in the house all day. We went to Wal Mart sometimes." Okay, poor me, wah wah. The truth is, it didn't bother me so much. I kind of enjoyed getting on my oldest sister's nerves and threatening my younger brother with knives. When I got bored I dressed up like the chicks on MTV and me and my friends sang along to "This is How We Do It". We prank called the guys in my class. Life was simple.

But alas, people grow up and they move to New York, the capital capital of the world. And they decide they don't want to be an actor anymore so they get a grown up job so that they can afford a laptop and printer to write plays at night. And being able to answer the work telephone well turns into doing other things well that weren't in the original blueprint of your life. Other opportunities rear their heads and before you know it, crap. You start thinking like the yups. "How much money can I make doing this job? Hmmm..."

So you put on your Christmas shoes and board the gravy train.

This is not entirely accurate, actually. Gravy Train insinuates that you're somehow getting money the easy way, and my my work has not been easy. At all.
Again, wah, poor me.

The point is, I've located the gravy train. (It's not as easy as everyone says it is, but it's there). And I'm scared of it. I feel like I've worked for it but that I don't deserve it. I'm scared to talk about it. I'm scared to smell the air. I'm scared to look around. I'm even scared of these Christmas shoes.

Why does comfort make me so uncomfortable?