SOUTHPAW SIMMONS
by
William Haskins
FADE IN:
EXT. A PIG PEN - DAY
SUPER: 1995
A sweltering day in Pepperville, Louisiana. The kind where
you sweat so much, the mosquitos slide off your skin.
11-year-old COTTON SIMMONS, shirtless and sunburned, spreads
fresh straw in the pen.
PAPAW SIMMONS (80), a rifle slung over his stooped shoulder,
dumps a bucket of slop into a metal trough. The hogs come a
running.
Papaw peers into the slop. A chunk of potato. A race against
time.
He pinches it between his thumb and forefinger and pops it in
his mouth just as the first pig grunts his way to the trough.
PAPAW
Too slow, fat boy.
He licks his fingertips.
Cotton looks up, shielding his eyes from the sun, and sees a
crop duster buzzing towards them, swooping dangerously low.
The pilot is the Simmons' obnoxious neighbor, ED STUBBS
(40s). Wearing a leather aviator's cap. The kind with ear
flaps.
STUBBS
Tora! Tora! You crazy ol' sumbitch!
Papaw unslings his rifle and cracks a shot into the sky.
PAPAW
Get off my property, ya bastard!
Cotton watches the plane fly away, disappointed.
COTTON
Why does he do that?
PAPAW
'Cause he's an asshole, that's why.
INT. FARMHOUSE KITCHEN - NIGHT
Cotton and Papaw sit at opposite ends of a thick butcher's
block table.
Cotton takes a bite of stew. Papaw takes a bite. Cotton
slides his spoon out of his mouth. Papaw pulls out his spoon,
and finds a set of stained dentures perched on the end of it.
He casually slides them back into place.
INT. FARMHOUSE KITCHEN - NIGHT - MOMENTS LATER
Cotton clears the dishes while Papaw pours a cup of coffee.
Cotton slips and falls. Plates and silverware fly. An awful
racket. Papaw doesn't notice.
He's busy pouring ketchup into his coffee. He turns up the
cup and gulps it down.
He turns to Cotton, who's on his hands and knees cleaning up
the mess. Papaw has a ketchup moustache.
PAPAW
Stop playin' around, boy. Time fer
your lesson.
INT. BARN - NIGHT
Papaw pulls on a pair of boxing gloves. Dressed in old-timey
boxing tights, he strikes a Sullivan-era fight pose, legs
straight, lead arm extended, fists upturned.
Cotton's also wearing gloves, but he just looks scared.
Papaw dances in a circle, rotating his hands in the 19th
century bare-knuckles style.
Cotton puts up an awkward defense.
PAPAW
All righty. Look here. Ya gotta
work the jab. Can't set nothin' up
without the jab. Jab, jab, jab...
BAP! BAP! BAP! The old man peppers Cotton's head with a
barrage of quick shots.
PAPAW
...then ya set up the hook.
Papaw delivers a left hook to the boy's ribcage. Cotton
crumples and covers up.
PAPAW
God a-mighty, boy. You ain't never
gonna win a fight like that.
Cotton peers between his gloves.
PAPAW
Well don't jus' stand there...
Cotton goes for it. He slides to his left and throws a
looping left hand, sending the old man sprawling to the
ground.
Cotton smiles and dances, rotating his hands.
Papaw sits up, shakes off the punch and grins proudly.
PAPAW
Atta boy!
EXT. CHURCH - DAY
A smoke-belching, rusted out pickup tears into the parking
lot of the Pepperville Baptist Church.
INT. CHURCH - MOMENTS LATER
The congregation is packed like sardines into the wood-frame
church, singing AMAZING GRACE.
Papaw and Cotton lazily mouth the words. Papaw's right eye is
swollen shut. Cotton has a fat purple lip.
Behind the pulpit stand BROTHER BILLY BAXTER (50s), an over
fed Southern Baptist holy roller, and SISTER LULU (40s),
whose makeup and hairdo more resemble a drag queen than a
preacher's wife. They shamelessly bellow the hymn.
INT. CHURCH - MOMENTS LATER
Brother Billy delivers his sermon with a booming southern
accent, alternately pounding his fist on the pulpit and
mopping his brow with a silk hankie.
BROTHER BILLY
And we would do well to heed the
words of Proverbs, Chapter 6!
Give not sleep to thine eyes, nor
slumber to thine eyelids!
The congregation is transfixed...
BROTHER BILLY
How long wilt thou sleep, O
sluggard?
...except for Papaw -- who snores loudly, his head pitched
back against the pew.
INT. CHURCH - MOMENTS LATER
BROTHER BILLY
And God said to Moses -- This is
the offering which ye shall take of
them... gold, and silver, and
brass!
The usher sends the collection plate along Cotton and Papaw's
row. Cotton nudges Papaw with his elbow.
BROTHER BILLY
Only the Christian spirit of
givin'...
The plate moves closer. Cotton nudges Papaw again.
BROTHER BILLY
Will cure the sick! Feed the
hungry! Life up the downtrodden.
Cotton nudges the old man a third time. Papaw opens one eye
and snorts. He pulls an ear of corn from his pocket and drops
it in the collection plate.
EXT. CHURCH - DAY
The congregation files out into the afternoon sunlight.
Brother Billy and Sister Lulu stand at the foot of the steps,
chatting with the worshippers as they leave.
Papaw makes a beeline for the truck. As he passes Brother
Billy, the preacher extends his hand. Papaw grunts without
looking at him and stomps right by.
As Cotton passes, Brother Billy clamps his hand on the boy's
shoulder.
BROTHER BILLY
Enjoy the lesson today, Cotton?
Cotton shrugs.
COTTON
I guess so.
Sister Lulu clasps her hands together, leans over to Cotton
and speaks in a patronizing, baby-talk way.
SISTER LULU
Well tell me, sugar. What did you
learn today?
He thinks about it for a moment, then shrugs.
COTTON
God sure is mad all the time. Is it
'cause he needs money so bad?
Brother Billy tries to laugh off his embarrassment, then
leans over so his face is even with Cotton's. His eyes are
drawn to the boy's swollen lip.
BROTHER BILLY
Lemme me ask you something...
SISTER LULU
It's okay, honey. You can tell us
anything.
BROTHER BILLY
Your papaw. Does he ever-
SISTER LULU
Does he ever hit you?
COTTON
Yes ma'am. Every Saturday night.
Cotton breezes off toward the parking lot, leaving Brother
Billy and Sister Lulu shocked. He turns around and grins.
COTTON
It's okay, though. I hit him back.