An Island Unto Himself (1)
Tony Mossor

 

FADE IN:

INT. SHOWER - DAY

C.U.on the shower head from STU’s ( OSCAR STEWART ) P.O.V. as the spray of water streams forth. Pull back to reveal Stu from the waist up, eyes closed as the water cascades across his face. Stu is in his mid forties. He begins to sing quietly to himself.

STU
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday
to me, happy birthday dear Stu...

A TOILET FLUSHES O.S. and there is a sudden shudder in water pressure from the shower head.

Mary
( O.S. )
Sorry.

INT. STEWART BATHROOM - DAY

MARY STEWART checks herself in the medicine chest mirror as she ties her robe. She is pretty but also showing her age, forty-ish. Stu’s profile is also reflected in the mirror, through the distorted glass of the shower door behind her.

STU
( O.S., gasping )
That’s freezing! Are you trying to
give me a heart attack?

Mary
I said I was sorry. Besides, the
cold water will wake you up.

STU
( O.S. )
I don’t need to wake up! I’m already
awake! What I need is soap! There’s
never any soap in here!

Mary
( exiting the bathroom to
top of the stairway )
It’s in there somewhere.

Through the distorted, glass of the shower door, Stu turns around looking for the elusive bar of soap. He abruptly slips and falls.

STU
Found it.

INT. STEWART KITCHEN - DAY

TIFFANY ( TIFFY ) STEWART, 16 with retro 60’s hippie attire and BRAD STEWART, a typical 8 year old boy are finishing a
hearty breakfast along with their mother, Mary. Tiffy is
eating Cap’n Crunch cereal from an oversized bowl. Enter
Stu, dressed for the office, knotting his tie.

STU
Morning everyone!

Mary smiles at Stu while she continues chewing. The children
don’t even look up. Stu joins them at the table.

STU
I’m famished, occasions like today
seem to make my appetite work
overtime.

Nobody picks up on Stu’s hint about occasions.

Mary
How was your shower, dear?

STU
Risky.

Mary
That’s nice.

STU
You know what I was thinking?
We never shower together any more.

Tiffy
Please! I’m trying to eat!

Mary
( giggling )
Stu! I guess next you’ll want me
to give up my twin bed.


STU
It was just a thought. Where’s
my breakfast?

Mary places two strips of black bacon in front of Stu.

MARY
You don’t have time dear. Eat
this. It’s not like I don’t love
love you anymore. We still have
sex you know.

STU
( Sotto, dejected,
pouring coffee )
No we don’t, not even on my
birthday.

Disgusted, Tiffy drops her spoon into her big cereal bowl
with a splash. The cereal is mostly finished but the bowl is still full of wasted milk.

TIFFY
That does it, I’m outa here.

BRAD
Finally, I thought you’d never
leave, Stinko. I was getting tired
of holding my breath.

TIFFY
You brat...

MARY
That’s enough. Tiffy, you’ll be
late for school. Brad finish your
breakfast.

Tiffy exits.

STU
Maybe I’ll just have coffee. Where’s
the milk?

Stu tries to feed his burnt bacon to MANNY, the family
Cocker Spaniel. Manny whines and turns up his nose.




MARY
We’re out. As a matter of fact
I need you to pick some up on the
way home tonight. Oh, and the
washer’s broken again.

STU
( eyeing Tiffy’s bowl
of wasted milk )
Again?

MARY
Again. Can you fix it tomorrow?

Stu pours some of Tiffy’s cereal milk into his coffee. A stray morsel of Cap’n Crunch floats in his mug.

STU
Not tomorrow. I was going to go
fishing with Mike tomorrow. I
haven’t been fishing in months...

MARY
Stu, the laundry is really backing
up.

BRAD
Oh yeah, that reminds me, the
commode in my bathroom is over-
flowing again.

STU
Since when?

Water from overhead begins to seep through the ceiling and
droplets fall into Stu’s coffee as he watches helplessly.

BRAD
( exiting the room
in haste )
Since about an hour ago.

EXT. STEWART HOUSE - DAY

Tiffy exits the front door of the two story, suburban abode
and gets in the family car that is parked in front of the
detached garage.

As she is backing out, Stu and Mary exit the house onto the
front porch. Stu’s sleeves are rolled up and he is holding
a plunger and flicking water off his hands. Mary is holding
his blazer, brief case and sack lunch.

STU
( RE: Tiffany )
Hey, where’s she going?!

MARY
School?

STU
I mean with my car!

MARY
I told Tiffy to drive it. She
said her car is jumping.

STU
Jumping?

MARY
That’s what she said. Maybe the
clutch is slipping or something.

STU
Perfect, and how am I supposed to
get to work?

Mary abruptly trades Stu his jacket, briefcase and lunch
for the plunger and heads back into the house.

MARY
Take Tiffy’s car. Maybe you can
figure out what’s wrong with it!

Mary slams the door behind her! Manny enters the scene and trots up the front steps.

STU
Hey ya, Manny old boy. At least
you still appreciate me.

Manny ignores Stu and scratches at the front door. Mary,
unseen, opens the door for Manny and then slams it after
him. Stu winces. Stu descends the few steps to the lawn
and turns back toward the front door.




STU
Just see if you get any more bacon
from me, you no good flea motel.
How do you like them apples, Pooch!

Finishing his retort, Stu turns toward the detached garage,
steps in dog poop, slips and falls flat on his back!

STU
Oh, poop!

Brad tears out of the front door on roller blades, jumps
the steps and stops on a dime next to his downed father.

BRAD
Dad, I need lunch money.

Still down, Stu retrieves his wallet and withdraws a lone
twenty dollar bill.

STU
All I have is a twenty, Brad.

BRAD
Thanks, Dad.

Brad snatches the twenty and skates off as the MAILMAN
enters the scene from the street and hands the mail to
Stu, still on the ground.

MAILMAN
Morning, Mr. Stewart.

STU
Morning Sam, thanks.

MAILMAN
Don’t thank me, they’re all bills.

INT. STEWART GARAGE - DAY

The roll up door rattles open, bathing the dank, cluttered garage with light. Close on Stu’s dark silhouette in the
doorway, outlined by the sunlight behind him for effect.

Stu enters the garage, pauses and stares at Tiffy’s monstrosity of a vehicle still O.S.

STU
Oh, brother.
Stu’s P.O.V., the vehicle is an old, faded, orange VW BUS
with a rollback, canvas sunroof. Stu walks past the bus and sets his briefcase on his workbench. He opens it and pulls out a glossy magazine. Sitting on a stool, he flips through the mag to the centerfold and turns it at different angles trying to get optimum viewing pleasure.

STU
Oh mama, one of these days, just
you and me.

Stu tears out the centerfold and pins it to the pegboard over his workbench. It is a pic of a lush tropical island.

INT. VW BUS - DAY

The driver’s door opens and Stu pokes his head in. He looks around, hesitating.

STU
I thought these things were
extinct.

He climbs in and looks the bus over. It’s a mess. Stu inspects it from front to back. There is a discarded order
of McDonald’s fries on the passenger seat and empty soda bottles on the floor. Magazines are scattered about; Cosmo and Vanity Fair. There is a hula girl figurine, replete with hula skirt on the dash.

Like its owner, the rest of the bus is decorated with a retro - 60’s motif; tasseled window dressings, a tied back curtain of beads, Dead Head stickers and tie died seat covers, a red bean bag chair and black lights.

STU
What a mess.

There are a number of stereo speakers, both mounted and unmounted, and a web of speaker wire strung throughout.
As Stu follows the trail of wire toward the back of the van, he suddenly disappears. Pan down to Stu who has fallen through a hole in the bus floor and is now standing with his feet flat on the garage floor, visible only from the knees up.

STU
Good grief.


EXT. STEWART GARAGE - DAY

Stu slowly backs the bus out of the garage.

STU
I hope nobody sees me in this
wreck.

Stu places a cigarette between his lips and pushes in the
bus’s lighter. He turns on the tape deck and nearly shatters an eardrum as it blasts out an AEROSMITH TUNE. He clicks it off and rummages through Tiffy’s selection of music.

STU
Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Jethro
Tull, my daughter listens to the
same music I used to listen to.
That’s just not right.

The bus’s lighter has not popped out. Stu tugs on it, still
nothing. It’s stuck.

STU
Ah, c’mon.

Stu uses his trusty ZIPPO to light his smoke and flips open the ashtray. A small marijuana pipe falls out and lands on the floorboard. Rolling to a stop at the intersection, Stu
bends over and picks up the pipe.

STU
I knew it, she is smoking...
( beat )
a pipe?

Smoke and fumes drifting in through the big hole in the floor start to overtake Stu. He rolls down the window and starts off again. The bus lurches and jumps, startling one of his neighbors, MRS. SKINNER.

STU
Hi, Mrs. Skinner. Don’t be afraid,
it’s just me, Stu.

INTERCUT EXT./INT. VW BUS - DAY

As Stu makes the commute to work, a series of shots follow:

The bus jumps and lurches as the clutch slips in and out.

The tasseled curtains and hula girl’s grass skirt shake.

The empty soda bottles roll to the front when he stops and then back again when he accelerates.

He stops for a CROSSING GUARD letting small CHILDREN cross the street for school. The little children give him and the dilapidated bus looks of contempt and disdain. Stu cowers under their intimidating stares.

EXT. PARKING GARAGE - DAY

Stu drives up and enters the facility.

INT. PARKING GARAGE - DAY

The bus lurches and jumps into a parking space and Stu
kills the engine. The lighter finally pops out like a gun shot and ricochets around the bus. Stu bails out to the bewildered stares of CO-WORKERS also arriving for work.

INT. OFFICES OF FISHER & FISHER - DAY

Pan along a row of cubicles, EMPLOYEES hard at work at computer terminals until coming to Stu in his cubicle.
Double take back to the previous cubicle, where the
employee is visiting a porn site on the Internet. This is
MIKE, Stu’s best friend. Mike’s an all right guy, just a little rough around the edges.

Pull back to include both Mike and Stu’s cubicles in the frame. Stu is also surfing the web. He is reading ROBINSON
CRUSOE on line, complete with pictures of his island paradise.

Stu’s wall calendar also features a picture of tropical island and the caption: “No man is an island unto himself.”

Seated at their desks, Stu and Mike can’t see each other over the partition between them. As if by cue, they both lean back in their chairs with their hands behind their heads, fingers interlocked.

STU & MIKE
( in unison )
Oh, yeah.

MR. FISHER
( O.S. abruptly clears throat )

Startled, Stu spins around in his chair. Pull back to include Stu’s boss, MR. FISHER, peering into Stu’s cubicle.

STU
Mr. Fisher...

MR. FISHER
Planning a little get away,
are we Stewart?

STU
No, I was just...

MR. FISHER
Let’s see, you’ve already had
your morning break...
( mockingly looking at watch )
and it’s not lunch time yet...

STU
No, sir.

MR. FISHER
Then if it’s not too much trouble,
I strongly suggest you get your
lazy, mooching, slack ass back to
work on the Craig Industries deal!!
You can be replaced you know!!!

Mr. Fisher storms off into his office!

STU
( standing so that he
can see over the cubicle )
But, I finished the Craig contract...

Mr. Fisher’s slamming door cuts him off!

STU
...an hour ago.

Mike also stands to make eye contact with Stu over their
shared partition.

MIKE
You really know how to make an
impression with ole Fish Face,
buddy.


STU
( plopping down
in his chair )
Boy, do I.

Mike leans over, crossing his arms on top of the wall.

MIKE
How do you do that?

STU
Do what?

MIKE
Sit without tipping over. You
know, after getting such a big
piece of your ass chewed off
like that.

STU
I’ve had plenty of practice.

KIMMY, another co-worker pokes her head over the partition
on Stu’s other side. Kimmy is 25, brunette, olive complexion, cute. She is a real looker but also presents a very professional appearance; hair up, glasses, skirt and blazer.

KIMMY
You okay, Stu?

STU
Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks, Kimmy.

KIMMY
It’s just a shame, that’s what it
is! Fisher knows how hard you’ve
worked on the Craig thing. Boy,
you take five minutes of company
time to reward yourself for a job
well done and the old man goes postal.

STU
It’s okay, Kimmy.

KIMMY
I didn’t hear him bitching when you
worked late all this week or when
you skipped lunch...

MR. FISHER
( V.O. intercom )
Stewart!

Kimmy and Mike both duck back into their cubicles! Stu
depresses the intercom button on his phone.

STU
Sir.

MR. FISHER
( V.O. )
I’ve got meetings all day. But,
I want to continue our little
talk after work. Be in my office
at five o’clock sharp!

STU
Yes, sir.

EXT. BREAK AREA - DAY

Stu and Kimmy are on lunch break. Stu has his brown bag,
but he isn’t eating. He’s smoking. Kimmy is having a cup
of yogurt and bottled water.

STU
You know, one of these days I’m
going to tell that old shark
Fisher, just where he can go.

KIMMY
No you’re not.

STU
Oh, really?

KIMMY
Yeah, really. You’re keystoned so
you can’t tell him off.

STU
I’m what?

KIMMY
Keystoned. You know, like the stone
at the very peak of an arch.

STU
What?
KIMMY
Look, how long have you worked here?

STU
Twenty years, give or take. This
was my first job out of college.

KIMMY
Okay, so for twenty plus years you’ve
been working your way up the arch
from ground zero. You started out
young and energetic, a burgeoning
asset to this company and a viable
commodity on the open job market. Now
you’re in your mid forties...

STU
Early forties.

Kimmy is doubtful about the age in question but continues.

KIMMY
Early forties. Anyway, now you’re at
the middle of your career arch.

STU
I get it. I’m the keystone, the one
that holds this company together!

KIMMY
Don’t kid yourself. What I meant was
it’s all downhill from here. Nobody’s
hiring middle aged men these days, so
I wouldn’t...

STU
Forty-four is not middle aged!
Fifty-four, now that’s middle aged.

KIMMY
Oh, so you think you’re going to live
to be a hundred and eight, huh. Look
Stu, all I’m trying to say is don’t
worry about Mr. Fisher. You’re just
having a bad day.





STU
Bad day? You just don’t know. I’m
miserable at work, I’m driving a
van almost as old as me and on top
of everything else, my wife and kids
didn’t even remember that it’s my
birthday.

KIMMY
Your birthday! Why didn’t you say
something?

Mike approaches, also carrying a paper bag.

MIKE
Hey kids, what’s up?

STU
Where have you been? Lunch is
almost over.

MIKE
( holding up bag )
I ran to the drugstore to get a
little something for my best pal.

KIMMY
Mike, we forgot Stu’s birthday.
Can you believe it?

MIKE
( improvising )
Like I said, I ran to the drugstore
to pick up a birthday present for
my best pal, Stu. Here, open it
birthday boy.

Stu takes the bag and withdraws the contents, a large
tube of K-Y lubricant.

MIKE
I figure you might need this when
you hook up with old Fish Head
after work.

Kimmy rolls her eyes in disgust.




STU
Thanks, but I’m going in dry.
When you’ve been reamed as many
times as I have, you hardly even
flinch.

MIKE
Suit yourself. So, what where you
kids talking about?

STU
We were just discussing my dead
end job, how my boss doesn’t
appreciate me, how my wife doesn’t
appreciate me, how my kids don’t
appreciate me. Hell, even my dog
takes me for granted. Sometimes
I just want to walk away from my
whole dumb life.

MIKE
I hear ya, buddy.

KIMMY
Shut up, Mike. C’mon Stu, it’s
not that bad. Besides, where would
you go?

STU
I’d just start driving. Any
direction, doesn’t matter. I’d
drive and I’d drive and I’d drive
until I run out of land.

KIMMY
Then what?

STU
Then I’d sell my car and buy a
boat and I’d sail and I’d sail and
I’d sail until one day I would
find my own private island...

MIKE
Every man’s dream.

STU
Just me and nature.


MIKE
Back to the womb of mother earth.
Surviving by your wits.

STU
No responsibilities.

MIKE
No wife.

STU
No kids.

MIKE
No bills waiting for you in the
mailbox every day.

STU
No insurance premiums to pay.

MIKE
No taxes.

STU
No telephone.

KIMMY
No TV.

MIKE
No way. Thanks for bringing me
back to reality, Kimmy.

Kimmy gathers her things to go back to work.

KIMMY
Must be a guy thing.

MIKE
You’re darn right it’s a guy thing!
A woman could never understand the
pressures we men are under.
Especially a single woman like
yourself. We’re responsible for
everything; job, wife, kids, money,
bills, car, house...




KIMMY
( insulted )
Mike, you’re talking to a twenty-
five year old single parent. Try
that on for responsibility!
( leaving )
I’ll see you guys back upstairs.
Try to cheer up, Stu.

MIKE
( calling after Kimmy )
Hey, I’m a single parent too
you know.

KIMMY
Every other weekend doesn’t
count, you moron.

MIKE
She’s hot for me.

STU
Shut up, Mike.

MIKE
Oh yeah birthday boy, tell me you
wouldn’t like to open that package
yourself.

STU
I’ve been happily married for
twenty years.

MIKE
Nobody that’s been married twenty
years is happy.

STU
Besides, I’ve got a daughter nearly
her age.

MIKE
Your daughter is sixteen. Kimmy is
twenty-five. That’s a world of
difference my man. So, how about
a beer after work? We’ll celebrate
your birthday.



STU
Can’t. I’ve got a game tonight.
Thanks anyway.

Mike’s not listening. He’s still watching Kimmy in the
distance.

MIKE
Oh yeah, she wants me.

INT. OFFICES OF FISHER & FISHER - DAY

Mike and Kimmy are just outside Mr. Fisher’s office. Everyone else is gone. Mr. Fisher’s yelling is muffled through his closed door.

MR. FISHER
( O.S.)
...just because you’ve been with
Fisher and Fisher for the last
twenty years doesn’t give you the
right to gold brick for the next
twenty. You’d better shape up and
start pulling your weight around
here, Stewart! You can be replaced
you know. Why, any idiot off the
street could do your job, probably
better...

 

 

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Copyright © 2000 Tony Mossor
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"