Stephen Metcalfe - Writer & Director

SIGNIFICANT OTHERS

The ocean. Early morning in Southern California. A winter swell and the surfers are out. Diving beneath the waves as they paddle out. Bobbing like ducks on a turbulent pond. Moving forward, then up and across the waves. Bailing out high in a haze of spray. Jettisoning free. The waves crash.
MICHAEL HODGE
is beneath the water. He hangs, still. His eyes are open. He seems almost bemused to find himself here. He looks up to see the flash of wave and board overhead. It is peaceful. Michael could almost go to sleep. But then, he realizes - he is drowning. He starts for the surface - and goes nowhere. He flails, panicking. Air bubbles gush from open mouth. Michael trying to pull them back... drowning and reaching...
INT. BEDROOM - MORNING
- and coming awake with a cry. Tangled in sheets. Taking a moment to realize... it was the dream again. Settling back. Forcing himself to relax. Slowing his racing heart. Awake now. And slightly hung over. He finally rises... a not unhandsome, strongly built man, mid to late 30’s.
INT. KITCHEN - MORNING
Michael enters. There are beer bottles on the counter. Too many. The answering machine on the wall phone is blinking. He hits it - listens, as he throws bottles in the trash. Penelope Hodge has the remains of an English accent.
PENELOPE HODGE
Michael? This is your mother. I do wish you’d answer your phone on occasion. I just wanted to tell you, the tests came back from the doctor's and it's official. I don't have Alzheimer's. Love you, darling.
What tests? Alzheimer's? Beep! The second message plays.
PENELOPE HODGE (CONT'D)
Michael, it's me. Guess what? I don't have Alzheimer's. Oh - and Happy Birthday, Michael.
A moment. Michael presses the erase button.
INT. BEDROOM - MORNING
Michael enters, moves to the bed, sits. We sense his son, COREY, 7, has been awake for a while.
MICHAEL
Time to get up, Bub.
COREY
I don't have to go to school today.
MICHAEL
Yeah, you do. Miss Schaefer's gonna be waiting for you. Big hug.
They hug.
MICHAEL (CONT'D)
Now let's get dressed.
INT. THE KITCHEN - MORNING
Michael is at the stove frying eggs. Corey is at the table, playing with a small, plastic man; shaking it, holding it a little too close to his face; intently focused on it.
MICHAEL
Corey.
Corey puts the plastic man into his lap.
EXT. THE HOUSE - MORNING
They come out and move towards the pick-up truck that's parked there. Michael in neat khakis and a faded, chambray shirt. The house has been added on to at different times over the years but is still an old beach bungalow more than anything else. Michael holds Corey's lunch box.
COREY
I want Miss Schaefer to miss me.
MICHAEL
Get in the truck, little man.
COREY
I want her to miss me!
They get in the pick-up. They pull out of the drive.
EXT./INT. PICK-UP - MORNING
Michael's pick-up moves along the coast highway of a small beach community in Southern California. Michael is a contractor - it says so on the side of his truck - HODGE CONSTRUCTION.
EXT. SCHOOL - DAY
Michael parks just down the street from an elementary school.
ON THE STREET - DAY
He walks Corey to the school entrance. Corey lagging behind.
MICHAEL
Corey, gotta move!
AT THE ENTRANCE -
There is an open gate. Playground beyond; children playing. Michael kneels. Corey’s mouth trembles.
COREY
(a statement and a question)
Nana will pick me up.
MICHAEL
Doesn't Nana always pick you up?
COREY
She will pick me up.
MICHAEL
And I'll pick you up at Nana's. And what else?
COREY
I won’t run to look for you.
MICHAEL
Because?
COREY
Even if you’re not there, you love me.
MICHAEL
Always.
Michael hugs him. He hands Corey his lunch. An attractive, woman, AMY SCHAEFER, early 20’S, approaches across the playground.
MICHAEL
There's Miss Schaefer. Go on now.
Michael nudges Corey towards the teacher. He runs towards her. She smiles and waves at Michael. Then, to Corey:
AMY
Hey, Corey. Are we going to have great day or what?
She takes his hand. They turn away. Michael watches them go. His cell phone rings.
MICHAEL
This is Michael.
He turns towards the street.
EXT. THE WORK SITE - MORNING
In a well to do neighborhood a house is being built. The worker's pick-ups and older cars are parked on the street amongst the neighborhood's BMW's and Grand Cherokees. LEO, a thick-set man, Michael’s age, and LUIS are unloading building materials from Leo's pick-up. Leo is the construction foreman. Which means he stands around and Luis do the work.
LEO
You got how many kids.
LUIS
Quatro. Four.
LEO
By how many wives?
LUIS
Two a them I no marry.
LEO
But you pay support.
A gesture - Luis does; as little as he can get away with.
LEO (CONT'D)
And you make, what, thirteen bucks an hour?
LUIS
Ees enough.
LEO
Luis, you get your high school equivalency, you can get a job with the city. Twenty two bucks an hour plus benefits. You can do this, Luis.
LUIS
You gonna talk or you gonna work?
They both turn as Michael's pick-up pulls up and parks next to a shiny Porsche. Michael gets out and approaches.
LUIS
Hey, boss.
MICHAEL
Where is he?
LEO
He's checking out his ocean view. Location, location!
Michael heads towards the building site.
LEO (CONT'D)
(to Luis)
This oughta be good.
ON THE A SITE - CONTINUOUS
BRYANT CAULFIELD, 40's, stands on what will be the back deck. He on his cell phone. He has just a glimpse of ocean view. He turns as Michael approaches.
BRYANT CAULFIELD
Uh-huh, uh-huh. Michael! Just a sec –
(into the phone)
Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
(Rolling his eyes at Michael)
Look, I gotta go here. Yeah, I’ll call you from the car. Yeah. Bye.
(Disconnecting)
Hey, ya doin’, my man? It's really coming along, huh?
MICHAEL
Glad you think so.
BRYANT CAULFIELD
Are you kidding? But hey, you know what? Instead of the open deck here, what about a glass enclosed solarium. We could still do the jacuzzi. What do you think?
MICHAEL
Leo tells me we're still having a little problem with our cash flow.
BRYANT CAULFIELD
Huh? Oh, yeah, no problem. I'll get a check in the mail, end of the week.
MICHAEL
Leo was supposed to have it today.
BRYANT CAULFIELD
Michael, I forgot. You know how it goes.
MICHAEL
As a matter of fact, no, I don't. What I know is I have men doing a job and I pay them for it. You don't pay me, they still get paid but they do the job somewhere else.
BRYANT CAULFIELD
Is that a threat?
MICHAEL
No, that's how it goes.
BRYANT CAULFIELD
I'm not sure I'm satisfied with the work.
MICHAEL
Leo!
LEO
Yeah, boss!?
MICHAEL
Tell the boys to start tearing down the framing. We're out of here.
LEO
You got it!
(Turning away; in Spanish)
Luis! Jose! Get the hammers!
BRYANT CAULFIELD
What! Wait, what are you doing?
MICHAEL
I'm quitting.
BRYANT CAULFIELD
What? But - you can't.
MICHAEL
You don't like my work? No problem, I quit. And I take what you haven't paid for with me.
(Calling out)
Bobby, start loading those pipes onto the truck!
BRYANT CAULFIELD
Wait! Michael, let's start over here. I want you on this job!
MICHAEL
Nah, you're just saying that because you're seeing your August move-in date fly out the window. You'll be lucky now if it's next August. It might be if you find another contractor. But when I spread the word you don't pay your bills and you keep changing the plans, well - good luck explaining it to your wife. Knock it down, Luis! All of it!
BRYANT CAULFIELD
Michael, please, how can I prove to you, I want you on this job!?
Michael turns and finally looks at him.
EXT. MICHAEL'S OFFICES - DAY
Michael's offices are in a low set building on a side street. His pick-up rolls to a stop. Michael gets out and enters.
INT. MICHAEL'S OFFICES - DAY
Michael enters. His receptionist/accountant/secretary, ROSE, is at her desk. Rose is a heavy, taciturn black woman, 30's.
ROSE
(not looking up)
Morning.
MICHAEL
Rose.
He drops a check in front of her. She picks it up.
MICHAEL (CONT'D)
A little advance.
ROSE
And then some. Do I want to know how you did this?
MICHAEL
No, you don't.
He starts towards his office in the back.
ROSE
Oh, Michael, a Doctor...
(checking the message)
- Akraprede's office called. They asked if you could stop in around noon today for your...
(looking at her notes)
- annual?
Michael looks surprised.
ROSE
Nothing wrong, is there?
MICHAEL
Huh? No. Just a... check up.
ROSE
Really. I was under the impression she was a psychiatrist.
She turns away - just a little too casual.
INT. OFFICE - RECEPTION - DAY
A clock on the wall – five after twelve. Michael sits, alone. The waiting room is comfortable. There are magazines on the table - Psycology Today - Self Help - Yoga Journal. Middle-eastern art on the walls. Michael looks up as the door to an inner office opens. FARI AKRAPREDE is 30’s, dark haired, lovely. She is well dressed; holds a file-folder.
FARI
Michael. Please come in.
He rises.
INT. OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Michael enters. Takes in the diplomas on the wall, the framed photographs, the bookcases filled with medical tomes. A desk - two overstuffed chairs facing one another other. What looks very much like a psychiatrist’s couch. Fari enters behind Michael, closes the door. She moves past Michael towards her desk.
FARI
Get undressed, pleased.
MICHAEL
...what?
FARI
Your clothes. Take them off.
MICHAEL
...here?
FARI (CONT'D)
Is there a problem?
MICHAEL
I -- no. Okay.
He starts to unbutton his shirt.
FARI
No, just the pants.
Michael hesitates. Fari moves around the desk.
FARI (CONT'D)
Doctor's orders.
She unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants and jockeys. With an appreciative murmur, she drops to her knees. Michael gives a soft gasp.
MICHAEL
This is some therapy.
Fari rises and kisses him.
FARI
Happy Birthday, Michael.
And she goes back down again.