A SUBTERRANEAN LOVE STORY
by
William Haskins
EXT. A CITY STREET - DAY
A school bus hisses to a stop on a busy urban street. The
door opens and young children stream out onto the sidewalk.
A LITTLE GIRL (9) steps off the bus, struggling to catch up
with a pack of her giggling friends.
LITTLE GIRL
Wait up, you guys!
As she leaps across a puddle, a small white envelope slips
from the book she clutches to her chest.
The envelope falls to the cracked and uneven pavement and is
almost immediately picked up by a scarred, dirty hand that
tosses it into a shopping cart.
Clean white paper in stark contrast to the filthy blanket and
trash that surround it.
The cart squeaks as it bumps along the sidewalk, and is
pushed by a tall, gaunt man in his 50s. He's pale and
haggard, with a vacant stare, and goes by the name of BILL.
INT. BASEMENT OF AN ABANDONED BUILDING - NIGHT
A group of homeless people sit scattered across the dirt
floor.
Bill sits down on the stairs, and turns over the envelope,
now smudged and crumpled, in his hands.
A WOMAN (30s) sits with her back against the brick wall, her
gaze cast downward to her lap. Her hair is greasy and matted,
and her skin is stretched tight over her bones.
She lifts her head, eyes wide with some undefinable fear, and
pleads to no one and everyone at once:
SITTING WOMAN
It's not my face!
She emits a muted squeal and stares down again.
SITTING WOMAN
(softly)
It's not my face.
The room grows silent again.
Bill stares at the front of the envelope, mouthing the
syllables as he reads: "To Jessica".
A booming voice from across the room shatters the silence.
VOICE (O.S.)
The hour is here, people! Praise the
lord, praise the lord. Now confess them
sins to Father Time. Redemption's in your
hands!
The voice belongs to FATHER TIME, an old black man whose wild
eyes and snow-white hair and beard fit his persona as a
street prophet.
He stands at the back of the basement, his hands raised in
the air.
Bill watches as one, then another, then another of the
wretched creatures move towards the old man.
A YOUNG MAN, disheveled and bent-backed, approaches Father
Time first, avoiding eye contact as he speaks.
YOUNG MAN
I stole. Stole a blanket.
Father Time speaks in a low voice.
FATHER TIME
That blanket keep you warm, son?
The young man looks him dead in the eyes.
YOUNG MAN
It gave me bad dreams. Terrible.
FATHER TIME
It's the sin, eatin' you up on the
inside.
He leans close to the young man and grabs his shoulders.
FATHER TIME
You gotta give that blanket away, y'hear?
To somebody worse off than yourself.
Y'understand me?
The young man nods, then turns away in shame.
Bill takes this all in, then watches a FRIGHTENED GIRL
approach Father Time. She stands in front of him, but looks
away, drawing circles with her toes in the dust on the floor.
FRIGHTENED WOMAN
I...
She starts to turn around, to walk away, but summons her
strength and faces the old man again, chewing her lower lip
in anguish.
FRIGHTENED WOMAN
I sold my body.
Tears fill her eyes.
FRIGHTENED WOMAN
I was a whore so I could... I could eat.
Father Time takes the woman in his arms and hugs her tightly.
FATHER TIME
Hunger make a animal outta anybody.
She sobs gently on his shoulder.
FATHER TIME
You gotta hold on to what's human inside
a-you.
He whispers in her ear.
FATHER TIME
That was another man's evil visited on
you, child.
Bill looks away, unable to watch anymore. He walks to a far
corner of the basement, past the sitting woman, who hides
behind her hands.
SITTING WOMAN
It's not my face.
In the corner, the pale, milky glow of a streetlight
illuminates the squalor.
Bill opens the envelope and carefully pulls out a child's
valentine.
He traces his fingertips around the curved edges of a cartoon
teddy bear holding heart-shaped balloons.
He opens the card and sees the unsigned scrawl of a heartsick
boy: "I love you."
He looks across the basement, where Father Time continues to
give counsel to the wretched.
Bill slides the valentine back in the envelope and walks
slowly towards the old man.
The others watch Bill cross the room and, for the first time,
Father Time looks uncomfortable.
FATHER TIME
Talk to me, Bill?
Bill pauses, looks around at the staring faces.
BILL
I never loved nobody.
Father Time wrestles with the weight of Bill's words.
BILL
BILL
All this time and I never loved nobody.
FATHER TIME
That's the biggest sin they is, Bill. If
you don't love, you ain't alive.
Bill's eyes reveal no expectation of redemption.
He turns and heads for the stairs. As he begins to climb
them, he turns back and sees the sitting woman, softly
repeating her hopeless mantra.
He walks to her and leans down. She hides her face and shakes
her head violently from side to side.
SITTING WOMAN
No. No. It's not, it's not my face.
Bill reaches out slowly, pushing her matted hair out of her
eyes. She becomes still and looks up at him.
He hands her the envelope.
BILL
I think you got a beautiful face.
As Bill climbs the stairs, she reads the valentine and, for
the first time, smiles.
By the time she looks up the stairs, all she can see are the
heels of his filthy boots disappearing into the night.