~The Bicycle~{a Christmas tale}~Act I~
FADE IN: Night. A young boy (Lonnie – 8-9 years old) lying on his stomach in bed writing in a tablet.
(voice over) Lonnie’s voice: “Dear Santa, I’m too old to be writin’ you these letters. Truth is, I’ll be nine in a few months and I been thinkin’ for awhile that maybe you ain’t real. But just in case you are, there’s this cool chopper bike at Wal~Mart I’d like to have.”
CUT to girls’ bedroom (upper bunkbed).
Seven-year-old girl (Lily) sleeping, arms around a raggedy ann doll.
(voice over continues): “My l’il sister, Lily, wants a Cabbage Patch Doll (she likes cat things too and race cars). She’s seven.”
CUT to the bottom bunkbed.
A tiny girl, one-and-a-half-years-old, asleep, a naked doll next to her, one glass eye open.
(voice over continues): “The smallest of the Lanes is baby Lisa. She’s one-and-a-half years old. She likes those dolls with the blinky eyes (sometimes she pokes ‘em out).”
CUT to six-year-old boy’s bedroom. Louie, asleep crossways in a small bed, untidy room, a poster of a firetruck on the wall at the head of his bed.
(voice over continues): “my brother, Louie, is six-years-old. Louie’s just about crazy for firetrucks. That’s all he thinks about.”
CUT back to lonnie (he continues to write)
(voice over continues): “Like I said before,”
CUT to memory sequence
The four children and their parents (Larry and Laurie), an attractive couple in their thirties, the previous Christmas. A typical American family Christmas morning, brightly lit tree in a modestly furnished living room. Everyone is happy. Lonnie and Louie are examining a toy race car with Lily. Baby lisa is sandwiched between two pillows from the couch playing with a rattle. Mom and dad are arm in arm, watching the children, dressed in their pajamas.
(voice over continues): “If you’re too busy or you ain’t real, just forget about this letter. I’m gettin’ so old, it’s probly the last one you’ll get from me. Seems to me like good ‘n bad don’t have as much to do with presents as Daddy’s job. When he has work you always bring lots o’ stuff. When he don’t you don’t.”
CUT to father (Larry) sitting on a recliner in the living room by himself, lower right leg and foot in a cast. There’s a bottle of beer on a side table next to the chair nestled amongst prescription bottles. Larry is stroking his lower face, a week’s worth of whiskers. The room is dark, reflections from a television screen lightening and darkening his haggard face. Laurie enters the room. She’s wringing her hands and shaking her head slowly from side to side.
(voice over continues): “Santa, he ain’t been workin’ much at all this year. His foot got hurt on a roof and he started takin’ pills. Then the doctor wouldn’t give him no more but it still hurt a lot. Well, he started drinkin’ whiskey and beer and goin’ to the bar. Him and mommy took to fightin’ all the time. She cries a lot and that makes my l’il brother and sisters cry. I try to wait and do it by myself when nobody can see me. If you pray Santa could you say one for Larry and Laurie and lonnie (that’s me) and Lily and Louie and baby Lisa? Yeah, that’s us, the ‘L’ family. Kids in school use to tease me ‘bout the L’s and I’d get mad at Mommy ‘n Daddy for namin’ the whole family like that. Lately I been writin’ our names down in a row over ‘n over and now I think maybe it’s kinda neat that they got together and decided to have all us l’il L’s.”
CUT to a previous time. The family in a mountain park. Lonnie is holding baby Lisa, watching his parents dance by a campfire. Lily and Louie are roasting marshmellows.
(voice over continues): “And that’s my real wish, Santa. That mommy ‘n daddy’ll be like they use to. Never mind the bike and toys. Maybe if you’re real you could get together with God or somethin’ and sort o’ teach ‘em to smile again like they use to at each other and us kids. I know it sounds sappy and I use to hide my eyes when I was a kid so I didn’t have to watch ‘em makin’ eyes at each other and kissin’ ‘n stuff. Now I’d like to see ‘em do that again. Well, I’ll let you go for now. You probly won’t hear from me no more since I’m gettin’ so old now. Your friend (if you’re real or not), Lonnie Lane.”
CUT back to Lonnie as the voice over ends. He yawns, places his letter on a night stand next to his bed. There’s a book on the table, “Call of the Wild” by Jack London. A small glass of juice and a cookie shaped like a christmas tree are there as well and a small lamp and clock. Lonnie glances at the clock, nine:fifteen, and turns off the lamp.
CUT to laurie standing in the hallway. There’s a grandfather clock next to her. It sounds ten o’ clock as she enters the girls’ bedroom. The room is dimly lit from the light in the hallway. Laurie stands on her tiptoes to have a look at Lily in the top bunk, then bends over and touches Lacy’s face lightly with a finger.
She goes to a small table by the door, takes a sip out of a glass there and nibbles a cookie on the table. Lily has left a picture there, Santa and two girls in dresses, big smiles on their faces. Laurie smiles a bit herself as she sees crayon scrawls around the edges, obviously Lacy’s contribution to the Santa message. She takes a scrap of wrapping paper from her pocket and writes on it: “Happy Christmas! You’ve been good girls all year long. Love, Santa.”
CUT to Louie’s room. Laurie moves to Louie’s side, touches his leg, which is still hanging over the side of the bed. She rearranges the covers so it is not bare. She smiles when she looks at Louie’s note to santa. Camera zooms in on note. There is a tic-tac-toe grid drawn on a piece of scrap paper, Santa-O and Louie-X scrawled across the top. Two squares have X’s, one an O. Laurie fills in the second O. She pulls another scrap of wrapping paper from her pocket, writes on the back: “Merry Christmas, Louie. You’re a good boy! I blocked your X run. Think about it. I’ll see you next year. Love, Santa.” Laurie takes a bit from the cookie on the messy dresser next to Louie’s bed, sips a bit from a cup of juice there, then slips from the room.
CUT to Lonnie’s room. He’s asleep now. His christmas letter sticks out from under “Call of the Wild.” Laurie enters from the hall, approaches Lonnie and pushes the hair back from his forehead. She bends and kisses him, then takes his letter from the table. She nibbles on the cookies left for Santa and drinks from a glass of juice, takes a tattered piece of wrapping paper from her pocket, and writes: “Dear Lonnie, You’re getting to be a big boy and quite a writer, I see. Your note is so long I’ll have to take it back to the North Pole with me and read it tomorrow. Enjoy your Christmas! Love, Santa”
Laurie puts the scrap of paper under the book, lingers for a moment staring at Lonnie, then backs into the hallway. She takes a deep breath and begins to read his letter. After a few moments, tears on her cheeks, she turns off the hall light and heads downstairs.
CUT to the family living room. There’s a fire burning brightly in the fireplace, a Christmas tree with blinking lights. Larry’s voice from outside the room: “Is that you, laurie? Want a nightcap, honey?”
Laurie bites her lip, closes her eyes.
Laurie: “Just one and make it light, please.”
Larry finds her standing next to the tree. He touches her arm and hands her a drink. She accepts it but doesn’t look at him. Lonnie’s letter is in her free hand.
Laurie: “I’m glad we have each other but this is the worst barebones Christmas we’ve ever had. We’re lucky to have gotten the tree but there’s not very much to put under it this year. We’ll make do.”
Laurie loses her composure, sobs for a moment.
Laurie: “I’ll tell you what I’ve managed to put together but first come sit down on the couch. I want you to read Lonnie’s letter to Santa with me.”
Larry (upset): “Damn it, don’t start in on me!” “It’s Christmas eve; give it a rest for once.”
Laurie moves past him, sits on the couch. Larry sits next to her. He laughs derisively.
Larry: “Isn’t Lonnie getting a little old to be writing letters to Santa? If he hopes to realize his dream to be a writer someday, ‘just like Jack London’, he’d better start writin’ somethin’ stronger ‘n letters to Santa. Not much power in Santa notes.”
laurie is sobbing softly as she sips at her drink. she hands the letter to Larry and he slips an arm around her shoulders.
Larry: “I’m sorry for blowin’ off, sweety. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Next year’ll be better for us. I’ll straighten up and fly right, I promise. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
Larry takes a long swallow of his drink, glances at Laurie.
Larry: “Things would be so much better for us if I could just find some work.”
Laurie turns toward him, teary-eyed.
Laurie: “Larry, honey, please read Lonnie’s letter.”
Larry leans forward on the couch, squinting his eyes, using the glow from the fireplace to read his oldest child’s words by. He finishes reading the letter, folds it and puts it in his shirt pocket.
Larry: “Ah, damn.”
Larry stands up, shaking his head back and forth sadly. He kisses the top of Laurie’s head.
Larry: “I’ll be back.”
He gets his coat from a peg on the wall and walks toward the door.
Laurie: “Please don’t go to the bar tonight.”
Her voice falls on empty ears as Larry walks out and closes the door behind him. We hear the sound of his truck starting. Laurie holds her face in her hands and weeps.
http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
FADE IN: Night. A young boy (Lonnie – 8-9 years old) lying on his stomach in bed writing in a tablet.
(voice over) Lonnie’s voice: “Dear Santa, I’m too old to be writin’ you these letters. Truth is, I’ll be nine in a few months and I been thinkin’ for awhile that maybe you ain’t real. But just in case you are, there’s this cool chopper bike at Wal~Mart I’d like to have.”
CUT to girls’ bedroom (upper bunkbed).
Seven-year-old girl (Lily) sleeping, arms around a raggedy ann doll.
(voice over continues): “My l’il sister, Lily, wants a Cabbage Patch Doll (she likes cat things too and race cars). She’s seven.”
CUT to the bottom bunkbed.
A tiny girl, one-and-a-half-years-old, asleep, a naked doll next to her, one glass eye open.
(voice over continues): “The smallest of the Lanes is baby Lisa. She’s one-and-a-half years old. She likes those dolls with the blinky eyes (sometimes she pokes ‘em out).”
CUT to six-year-old boy’s bedroom. Louie, asleep crossways in a small bed, untidy room, a poster of a firetruck on the wall at the head of his bed.
(voice over continues): “my brother, Louie, is six-years-old. Louie’s just about crazy for firetrucks. That’s all he thinks about.”
CUT back to lonnie (he continues to write)
(voice over continues): “Like I said before,”
CUT to memory sequence
The four children and their parents (Larry and Laurie), an attractive couple in their thirties, the previous Christmas. A typical American family Christmas morning, brightly lit tree in a modestly furnished living room. Everyone is happy. Lonnie and Louie are examining a toy race car with Lily. Baby lisa is sandwiched between two pillows from the couch playing with a rattle. Mom and dad are arm in arm, watching the children, dressed in their pajamas.
(voice over continues): “If you’re too busy or you ain’t real, just forget about this letter. I’m gettin’ so old, it’s probly the last one you’ll get from me. Seems to me like good ‘n bad don’t have as much to do with presents as Daddy’s job. When he has work you always bring lots o’ stuff. When he don’t you don’t.”
CUT to father (Larry) sitting on a recliner in the living room by himself, lower right leg and foot in a cast. There’s a bottle of beer on a side table next to the chair nestled amongst prescription bottles. Larry is stroking his lower face, a week’s worth of whiskers. The room is dark, reflections from a television screen lightening and darkening his haggard face. Laurie enters the room. She’s wringing her hands and shaking her head slowly from side to side.
(voice over continues): “Santa, he ain’t been workin’ much at all this year. His foot got hurt on a roof and he started takin’ pills. Then the doctor wouldn’t give him no more but it still hurt a lot. Well, he started drinkin’ whiskey and beer and goin’ to the bar. Him and mommy took to fightin’ all the time. She cries a lot and that makes my l’il brother and sisters cry. I try to wait and do it by myself when nobody can see me. If you pray Santa could you say one for Larry and Laurie and lonnie (that’s me) and Lily and Louie and baby Lisa? Yeah, that’s us, the ‘L’ family. Kids in school use to tease me ‘bout the L’s and I’d get mad at Mommy ‘n Daddy for namin’ the whole family like that. Lately I been writin’ our names down in a row over ‘n over and now I think maybe it’s kinda neat that they got together and decided to have all us l’il L’s.”
CUT to a previous time. The family in a mountain park. Lonnie is holding baby Lisa, watching his parents dance by a campfire. Lily and Louie are roasting marshmellows.
(voice over continues): “And that’s my real wish, Santa. That mommy ‘n daddy’ll be like they use to. Never mind the bike and toys. Maybe if you’re real you could get together with God or somethin’ and sort o’ teach ‘em to smile again like they use to at each other and us kids. I know it sounds sappy and I use to hide my eyes when I was a kid so I didn’t have to watch ‘em makin’ eyes at each other and kissin’ ‘n stuff. Now I’d like to see ‘em do that again. Well, I’ll let you go for now. You probly won’t hear from me no more since I’m gettin’ so old now. Your friend (if you’re real or not), Lonnie Lane.”
CUT back to Lonnie as the voice over ends. He yawns, places his letter on a night stand next to his bed. There’s a book on the table, “Call of the Wild” by Jack London. A small glass of juice and a cookie shaped like a christmas tree are there as well and a small lamp and clock. Lonnie glances at the clock, nine:fifteen, and turns off the lamp.
CUT to laurie standing in the hallway. There’s a grandfather clock next to her. It sounds ten o’ clock as she enters the girls’ bedroom. The room is dimly lit from the light in the hallway. Laurie stands on her tiptoes to have a look at Lily in the top bunk, then bends over and touches Lacy’s face lightly with a finger.
She goes to a small table by the door, takes a sip out of a glass there and nibbles a cookie on the table. Lily has left a picture there, Santa and two girls in dresses, big smiles on their faces. Laurie smiles a bit herself as she sees crayon scrawls around the edges, obviously Lacy’s contribution to the Santa message. She takes a scrap of wrapping paper from her pocket and writes on it: “Happy Christmas! You’ve been good girls all year long. Love, Santa.”
CUT to Louie’s room. Laurie moves to Louie’s side, touches his leg, which is still hanging over the side of the bed. She rearranges the covers so it is not bare. She smiles when she looks at Louie’s note to santa. Camera zooms in on note. There is a tic-tac-toe grid drawn on a piece of scrap paper, Santa-O and Louie-X scrawled across the top. Two squares have X’s, one an O. Laurie fills in the second O. She pulls another scrap of wrapping paper from her pocket, writes on the back: “Merry Christmas, Louie. You’re a good boy! I blocked your X run. Think about it. I’ll see you next year. Love, Santa.” Laurie takes a bit from the cookie on the messy dresser next to Louie’s bed, sips a bit from a cup of juice there, then slips from the room.
CUT to Lonnie’s room. He’s asleep now. His christmas letter sticks out from under “Call of the Wild.” Laurie enters from the hall, approaches Lonnie and pushes the hair back from his forehead. She bends and kisses him, then takes his letter from the table. She nibbles on the cookies left for Santa and drinks from a glass of juice, takes a tattered piece of wrapping paper from her pocket, and writes: “Dear Lonnie, You’re getting to be a big boy and quite a writer, I see. Your note is so long I’ll have to take it back to the North Pole with me and read it tomorrow. Enjoy your Christmas! Love, Santa”
Laurie puts the scrap of paper under the book, lingers for a moment staring at Lonnie, then backs into the hallway. She takes a deep breath and begins to read his letter. After a few moments, tears on her cheeks, she turns off the hall light and heads downstairs.
CUT to the family living room. There’s a fire burning brightly in the fireplace, a Christmas tree with blinking lights. Larry’s voice from outside the room: “Is that you, laurie? Want a nightcap, honey?”
Laurie bites her lip, closes her eyes.
Laurie: “Just one and make it light, please.”
Larry finds her standing next to the tree. He touches her arm and hands her a drink. She accepts it but doesn’t look at him. Lonnie’s letter is in her free hand.
Laurie: “I’m glad we have each other but this is the worst barebones Christmas we’ve ever had. We’re lucky to have gotten the tree but there’s not very much to put under it this year. We’ll make do.”
Laurie loses her composure, sobs for a moment.
Laurie: “I’ll tell you what I’ve managed to put together but first come sit down on the couch. I want you to read Lonnie’s letter to Santa with me.”
Larry (upset): “Damn it, don’t start in on me!” “It’s Christmas eve; give it a rest for once.”
Laurie moves past him, sits on the couch. Larry sits next to her. He laughs derisively.
Larry: “Isn’t Lonnie getting a little old to be writing letters to Santa? If he hopes to realize his dream to be a writer someday, ‘just like Jack London’, he’d better start writin’ somethin’ stronger ‘n letters to Santa. Not much power in Santa notes.”
laurie is sobbing softly as she sips at her drink. she hands the letter to Larry and he slips an arm around her shoulders.
Larry: “I’m sorry for blowin’ off, sweety. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Next year’ll be better for us. I’ll straighten up and fly right, I promise. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
Larry takes a long swallow of his drink, glances at Laurie.
Larry: “Things would be so much better for us if I could just find some work.”
Laurie turns toward him, teary-eyed.
Laurie: “Larry, honey, please read Lonnie’s letter.”
Larry leans forward on the couch, squinting his eyes, using the glow from the fireplace to read his oldest child’s words by. He finishes reading the letter, folds it and puts it in his shirt pocket.
Larry: “Ah, damn.”
Larry stands up, shaking his head back and forth sadly. He kisses the top of Laurie’s head.
Larry: “I’ll be back.”
He gets his coat from a peg on the wall and walks toward the door.
Laurie: “Please don’t go to the bar tonight.”
Her voice falls on empty ears as Larry walks out and closes the door behind him. We hear the sound of his truck starting. Laurie holds her face in her hands and weeps.
http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
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