Touched (Short Screenplay)

INT. MEDICAL CLINIC - DAY

NAYLOR (30s), a career-driven businessman, with a quirky sense of humor, pulls his sleeve down after the NURSE draws his blood.

NURSE
Alright. We should have your MRI and blood results back next week. Be sure to schedule an appointment before you leave.

The Nurse hands him a prescription.

NURSE (CONT’D)
This should ease your migraines in the meantime.

INT. NAYLOR’S BEDROOM CLOSET - NEXT DAY

Naylor is in his boxers picking out his suit for work.

The DOORBELL RINGS.

INT. FOYER - CONTINUOUS

Naylor answers the door. It’s ISABELLA (30s), a sentimental childhood friend who is adorable and sweet. They hug.

ISABELLA
I’m so glad I found you home!

NAYLOR
What are you doing here? I thought you were living in New York.

ISABELLA
I’m in town working on a photo-shoot.

NAYLOR
Please come in.

INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Isabella walks in. Naylor shuts the door.

NAYLOR
Can I get you anything?

ISABELLA
I know it’s kind of early but do you have wine?

NAYLOR
Wine, at this hour?

ISABELLA
I know, It’s just that I took this job because I needed to get away. I just want to relax.

Naylor goes into the pantry and grabs a bottle of wine.

NAYLOR (O.S.)
What’s wrong?

Isabella walks through the living room looking at his family pictures. She picks up a picture of them both when they were at prom.

ISABELLA
I really don’t want to get into it right now. Can I stay with you while I’m in town?

Naylor walks back with the filled glass and hands it to her.

NAYLOR
Sure you can. It’ll be like old times sake.

Naylor turns the television on.

NAYLOR (CONT’D)
I’m so sorry, but I have to be at work to meet a big client. Make yourself at home.

He walks to his bedroom.

NAYLOR (O.S.) (CONT’D)
I have your favorite collection of British Films.

Isabella places the wine glass on the coffee table and walks to the entertainment center. She scans his movie collection and smiles.

ISABELLA
You have a great selection. I can’t believe you have Pride and Prejudice.

She puts the movie on and sits on the sofa cuddling a pillow.

Naylor walks back bringing two shirts.

NAYLOR
Which one should I wear today?

He holds up a white collared glen plaid shirt and a plain purple one.

ISABELLA
Not a fan of stripes. I’d go with the purple one.

NAYLOR
Thanks.

He brings back two ties.

NAYLOR (CONT’D)
So which one do you think would go with the purple shirt, the pastel pink or the yellow paisley?

ISABELLA
(playfully sarcastic)
Are you going to work or a party?

NAYLOR
Does it matter?

ISABELLA
Of course it does. I’d go with the yellow one. It goes nicely with the purple shirt.

Naylor gentlemanly gesticulates a bow.

NAYLOR
(English accent)
Of course young lady. What would I do without you?

ISABELLA
(English accent)
What ever do you mean darling? The same thing you do everyday! Run along now!

NAYLOR
I sense tension in your voice.

ISABELLA
I’m sorry. This movie is getting to me. I just don’t understand how guys are depicted in movies with such sensitivity when in reality they are absentminded.

NAYLOR
That is not true. You just haven’t found the right guy yet.

ISABELLA
(pointing at the television)
This is what I want. Is that too much to ask for?

Isabella begins to cry.

Naylor sits beside her and holds her.

NAYLOR
Honey, it’s OK. You know I love you right?

ISABELLA
(crying)
I know you do. I love you too.

NAYLOR
We’ve been friends for so long, I know what you want. You deserve nothing but the best. I think you’re a beautiful person. Just be patient. The right guy will come along, and when he does, he will never leave. Trust me, alright?

ISABELLA
(blowing her nose)
I do trust you. It’s just hard to believe that relationships last.

NAYLOR
I understand. That’s how I feel about a good woman.

He grabs her face with both hands, thumbs caressing her chin and lips.

NAYLOR (CONT’D)
(softly)
It’s OK, I’m here.

They gaze into each other’s eyes.

The DOORBELL RINGS.

NAYLOR (CONT’D)
I’ll be right back.

INT./EXT. FOYER - MOMENTS LATER

Naylor opens the door. He sees TWO WOMEN. Both of them are holding Bibles.

NAYLOR
Can I help you?

WOMAN #1
Hello, we are visiting our neighbors briefly to share an important message. Do you think God plans to eradicate sickness and death, or will man continue to destroy mankind to his own injury?

WOMAN #2
Would it be alright if I read what the Bible says at Revelations...

NAYLOR
Are you Jehovah’s Witnesses?

WOMAN #2
Yes, we are.

NAYLOR
I must apologize. This isn’t really a good time. Can you come back next week? Same time?

WOMAN #1
Sure, have a good day.

Naylor closes the door and makes his way back to the living room nonchalantly.

INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Naylor scratches his head for a moment, his eyes are blank. He grabs the remote control.

NAYLOR
Here. This should hold you till I get back. I really do have to get ready for work. Do you need anything before I go?

ISABELLA
(coolly)
No. I’m fine. I think I can survive on wine and tissue paper till you get back.

Naylor cracks a smile then exits.

The ruckus from Naylor’s bathroom distracts Isabella from her movie.

ISABELLA (CONT’D)
Are you OK in there?

Naylor re-enters fumbling with his necktie.

NAYLOR
Can you tie a half-windsor for me? You were always so good at it.

ISABELLA
Well, you can thank my dad for that.

Naylor holds out both ends of his necktie.

NAYLOR
Show me!

Isabella takes the last sip of wine and walks over to Naylor.

ISABELLA
I know I’m short, but I can do this.

Naylor smiles.

ISABELLA (CONT’D)
Voilà!

NAYLOR
That was fast.

He adjusts his tie and then grabs her face. Suddenly the PHONE RINGS.

NAYLOR (CONT’D)
(sighing)
I’ll be right back.

INT. NAYLOR’S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

Naylor searches through his dresser with a fuss.

NAYLOR
Hello! Mr. Donovan . . . Yes, I will be in today. I should be there shortly...Uh huh..Yes...I understand. I will add that to the proposal. See you at noon.

INT. BEDROOM CLOSET - CONTINUOUS

Naylor reaches above the rack in his closet pulling out a box of memorabilia. Frantically looking through it.

NAYLOR
Isabella, can you please come here, I have something to show you.

INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Isabella puts the remote down. She gets up and walks over to his bedroom door slowly entering with great curiosity.

INT. NAYLOR’S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS
Isabella scans the room.

ISABELLA
What are all my letters and pictures doing on your bed?...Naylor?
Isabella walks across the room and finally approaches Naylor who is on one knee holding a ring.

NAYLOR
Isabella, since the day I first saw you, I have fallen deeply and utterly in love with you. I could never find the right time or the right place to do this...until now.

His breath is deep and his words are soft.

NAYLOR(CONT’D)
I...love you!

He holds out the ring.

NAYLOR (CONT’D)
Will you marry me?

She is breathless.

ISABELLA
All these years I imagined you asking me to help you find the right way to propose to your future wife and here you are proposing to me...Yes! I will...marry you!

Naylor and Isabella embrace into a slow kiss. He picks her up and spins her around.

INT. CLINIC - ONE WEEK LATER - DAY

The nurse walks in with the clipboard.

NAYLOR
(sarcastically)
Hello. I’ve made progress haven’t I? I didn’t reschedule and my headaches have been under control with the medicine.

NURSE
(frantically)
I looked at your charts. Naylor, your scans show you have progressive stage four brain cancer. The doctor will be in shortly to discuss how you want to go about treatments.

NAYLOR
Treatments? There are no treatments for stage four. I just proposed to my best friend. I told her I would never leave. There must me some mistake. How much time do I have?

NURSE
In most cases, usually about a year...with treatments. I’m so sorry.

Naylor nods.

FADE OUT.

The End

Autobiographical: This story was based on true events. My best friend of many years, Emad, was a true gentleman. The only difference is I valued our friendship too much to become anything more than friends. He married several years ago and I lost touch with him. It turns out that it is not in his culture to stay in touch with single friends of the opposite sex and views our communication as a disrepsect to his new wife. This is completely understood. I hope one day we can cross paths when I have a significant other by my side. I wrote this story to add to my collection of fond memories. Thank you Emad, where ever you are, for the wonderful treasured memories.

A Beautiful Mess

Penelope stood in front of the mirror perplexed. Her life was a beautiful mess. Her bedroom was a circus of confetti-filled photos that seemed to drape every part of the room. She searched photo after photo of her mother’s first husband, Dale, and her second husband, Scoot for similarities in appearance. Ashley, Scoot's sister, was the culprit. She had intrigued her with the irresistible curiosity of searching for her true identity.

Penelope held the photo of her and her stepdad Scoot that Ashley had given her. She clutched it in confusion and frustration. Scoot was sitting in his chair at the home office and she stood behind him crouching over him, hugging him, and remembering the bittersweet moments of their unspoken bond. Caressing the photo of his face comforted her. She mumbled to herself over and over again in confusion and then looked at herself in the mirror for reassurance as if her reflection was another person.

She pulled on her cheeks and lifted the center of her eyebrows in curiosity. She pulled her bottom lip down to look at her teeth, the crooked ones and admired the contours of her nose, neck, and shoulders as her fingers stroked every crevice. Searching for some reassured semblance, she hurriedly searched through the piles of photos on the floor, desperate to find anything that provided some evidence.

She heard her mother’s footsteps approach her bedroom door. The clapping sound of her sandals sounded louder than usual as she walked in her direction. Penelope’s heart raced. She wondered what mood her mother would possess seeing her room in disarray. The bright and early morning sun overtook the room as she opened the door with her usual unpleasant and abrupt demeanor.

Seeing her daughter teary-eyed in front of the mirror only seemed to irritate her.

Penelope looked in the mirror and then at her mother. She wondered if her mother even knew who her real father was. Her hands shook with tension as she held the picture in her left hand. She took a deep breath and walked toward her mother putting her hands on her shoulders.

In a soft but firm voice she asked, “Was Scoot my father? Please tell me, I need to know the truth!”

Her mother’s eyes paced back and forth with resentment refusing to look her in the eyes. Her shoulders shrugged, her hands clapped against the side of her thighs sighing with irritation. Her eyebrows clashed with a silent roar as they collided in shame as she nodded.

She hesitatingly answered,  “I don’t . . . know!”

Her mother’s attempts to detach herself from any emotion were feeble and she stomped out of the room as if she were stepping on landmines.

Penelope felt dejected but couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of an official confirmation. She scrambled through her photos and grabbed the DNA test kit and tried to get Ashley on the phone before she changed her mind. Her calls went straight to voicemail.

After some time, she desperately searched for the DNA kit. She began to rip it apart and threw it at her mirrored reflection. She was overtaken by anger. She began to grab all the photos that surrounded her and attempted to rip them in bundles. As she frantically cried, she picked up the picture Ashley had given her from among the piles. At that moment, she got up and slowly walked to the mirror. For a moment, she just looked at herself blankly. She took the picture and held it toward the mirror wanting to finally rid herself of it. She wanted the mystery to stop torturing her.

Then suddenly, she squinted at the mirror. She leaned in closer and saw faded letters. It looked like handwriting and she immediately turned it over to make it out. Then all of a sudden, she heard a piercing sound, almost deafening. It was the sound of her alarm clock and she was abruptly awakened by it. After turning it off, she immediately grabbed the picture and quickly approached the mirror. Slowly turning it over, she took a deep breath. She looked for the faded letters, but what she found was a faded watermark stain. At that very moment, Penelope realized that she had set her alarm a second too soon. She somehow knew that her next dream would bring her one step closer to the truth. It was just a matter of time.

Written by J. Angel Cardona

Penname: Angeltopia

This short story will be featured on the front page of Linguistic Erosion on 8 November 2014

For a brief biography please follow the link:

http://my.orgsync.com/angeltopia
Thank you for your support!