INT. MUSIC/GUEST ROOM – NIGHT
Jessie shows Drew the guest room, which also functions as an “office.” Shelves of toys and knick-knacks share space with band equipment, broken boom boxes, concert tickets, a concert poster on the wall. And a lonely-looking futon.
This will be perfect. I love it. I can sleep anywhere.
You in my house, man. This is great. The
circumstances are not great. But we are cousins,
brother. Brother, we are cousins. That was my band.
Jessie points out the poster, as he pulls out pillows and clears toys from the floor. (Jessie is clearly a big kid with toys, trying to raise a smaller kid with toys.)
it reads: Winchester Summerfest, featuring Lynyrd Skynyrd.
This is the show we opened for Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Two of the original members!
Well, we almost opened for ‘em. It’s really a long
story. We never played, and we never played since.
Drew sees the long list of performing bands listed on the poster, squints and finds the tiny letters at the bottom of the bill . . . Ruckus. We start to hear a sleepy whine in the next room. Samson stirs.
Jessie nods proudly and quietly, as Drew looks over some memorabilia from the failed band.
And now you fix computers.
I’ve taken the year off for hard thought . . . tough thinking.
Something big has happened . . . or is happen-ning, and I
want to the guy who puts his finger on it. Creatively.
He laughs to himself. Drew laughs a little too, studies the poster. Behind him, Jessie sings spontaneously, acappella, a verse from his own composition, “Same In Any Language.” Drew listens uncomfortably, unsure how to respond or where to look as Jessie sings:
“Those postcards I sent from Birmingham
All the way from the windows of Amsterdam
Copped a gram from Dapper Sam
Just a four-letter man in another jam . . .
Oh yeah . . . “
Next door, Samson fully wakes and erupts into a sustained howl. Jessie discounts the noise like the seasoned father of a loud child. Drew takes a breath, politely nods, and looks around the room, imagining the next seven hours or so. The child is loud. We hear a quiet knocking along the wall.
A young woman peeks around the corner holding keys. She has long straight hair with just a sliver of her face visible. She wears a Bartell’s drug store uniform, with a dark coat over it. She is DEBBIE, 30ish.
Jessie nods and winks at Drew as in – you’re on your own, my date is here.