A teacher and a student find some common ground during a detention period. Originally written for an NYC Midnight contest.
FADE IN:
INT. SCHOOL DETENTION ROOM – DAY
JACK RICHARDSON, mid-forties, is tall and slender with a ruggedly handsome face below his full head of medium length graying hair. He sits behind a pine office desk in the detention room at John Kirby Allen Prep in San Antonio, Texas. He is wearing a long-sleeved dress shirt, a tie, khaki pants, and Converse sneakers, and he is sipping almost daintily from an ornately decorated china teacup.
JACK
So you see, Nolan, there is an art to the sipping of tea that speaks to the good manners of the sipper.
Sitting at one of the student desks is the only other person in the room, NOLAN AYALA (16), short for his age but well-built, dark hair. He's wearing a black t-shirt that says "I'm Not Normal" on the front, blue jeans, and checkerboard Vans slip-on shoes. He mimes sipping from a teacup, extending his pinky finger as he does.
JACK (CONT'D)
Ah, what you are doing is a misconception come to life, Nolan. The pinky extension is for posers only. True sippers would never — I repeat, never — engage in such behavior.
Nolan drops his hand.
NOLAN
But, Mr. Richardson, aren't the real posers the people who engage in behavior that is intended to be exclusionary? The ones who create and follow arbitrary rules?
Jack cocks his head slightly. He waits a moment.
JACK
Well, Nolan, someone has to create the rules polite — um, civilized
— individuals live by. They are indeed sometimes arbitrary, but many of them help to hold our society together.
He takes one more sip, then places the cup onto its saucer.
JACK (CONT’D)
Which brings us to why you are here today, Mr. Ayala. Tardy again to fifth period?
NOLAN
I have a hard time after lunch. (takes a beat)
But I was only 10 seconds late!
JACK
Late is late, Nolan.
He picks up his teacup.
JACK (CONT'D)
As engaging as I find our conversations, and as much as I enjoy your company here, I must implore you to adhere more closely to the rules. They will serve you well as you–
Nolan quickly stands and loudly slaps his desk.
NOLAN
10 seconds, Mr. Richardson! That is some fascist bullshit!
JACK
Hey! Language!
Jack stares at Nolan. Nolan stares back into Jack's eyes for a couple seconds. Jack, never dropping his eyes, takes a sip of tea, then purses his lips and raises his eyebrows. Nolan looks down, clears his throat, and sits.
NOLAN
10 seconds…
Jack's face softens.
JACK
Nolan, you're a good kid, a smart kid, but there are rules here, and you know them. 10 seconds or 10 minutes gets you an hour of detention.
Nolan nods.
JACK (CONT’D)
I mean, what kind of society would we have if we didn't respect each other's time?
(takes a beat)
We're trying to build good habits in you now that will serve you well later in life.
Nolan shakes his head.
NOLAN
Sounds like the Man trying to hold me down.
JACK
(chuckling)
You don't know the half of it.
Nolan pulls a copy of Heinlein's "Stranger in a Strange Land" from his backpack, opens it to a dog-eared page, and starts reading.
Jack picks up his teacup and walks to an electric teapot that is on a credenza at the back of the classroom. He fills the cup, brings it up to his nose, and inhales through his nose.
JACK (CONT'D)
Lavender. There is nothing in this world to calm me like a good cup of lavender tea.
He starts walking back toward his desk. The cup slips from his hand, hits the tile floor, and shatters.
JACK (CONT'D)
Shit!
Nolan jumps a bit in his seat at the noise. He turns his head back toward Jack.
NOLAN
(chuckling) Language, Mr. Richardson.
Jack is on his hands and knees on the floor picking up the pieces of the cup.
JACK
I’m sorry.
(takes a beat)
It was my grandmother’s.
He extends the hand that's holding the broken pieces.
JACK (CONT’D)
This was the last one of the set.
Nolan puts his book down.
JACK (CONT'D)
Come on, Jack! Get it together!
Jack collapses to the floor, but quickly stands.
JACK (CONT'D)
(under his breath) Get it together.
Jack holds pieces of the cup in one hand, and brushes himself off with the other. He walks to his desk, places the broken ceramic carefully onto the saucer, then straightens his tie and clothes.
NOLAN
(concerned)
Mr. Richardson? Are you okay?
Jack slumps into his chair.
JACK
(weakly) I'm fine.
He takes a long, deep breath and exhales slowly.
JACK (CONT'D)
I'm sorry for the outburst. You shouldn't have had to be subjected to that. I apologize.
Nolan stands and walks to spot of the spill. There are still a couple ceramic pieces on the floor. He picks them up and places them on the saucer with the rest of them.
NOLAN
It's just a thing, Mr. Richardson, an object.
JACK
I know, Nolan, but it represents
— represented — so much. My Grandma Olive…
Nolan nods.
NOLAN
I know. My abuela on my father's side. She is the rock of our family.
Jack looks up at Nolan.
JACK
Exactly. Grandma Olive was my rock. I learned the rules from her.
(takes a beat)
It's important to me to pass them along to you.
Nolan walks back to his seat. He sits and looks toward Jack.
Jack reaches across his desk, picks up the still intact handle of the teacup and, as if the cup were still attached to the handle, raises it to his lips to sip.
Nolan mimes sipping. His pinky finger is not extended.
FADE OUT:
THE END