Trumpet Song, Too

A short story experiences life as a screenplay.

Hello, Dear Reader. A few entries ago I posted my short story, "Trumpet Song," about a struggling street musician. As promised, here is that same story, in screenplay format. You'll notice a number of differences in the transition from a first person narrative to screenplay. A few examples: the opening scene is completely different, and both Lady Long Hair and Miss Red Raincoat now have actual names. Oh, also, since the original story was completed a few years ago, the amount of money in the envelope has increased. Even fiction worlds are subject to inflation.

FADE IN:

EXT. MA HAWKIN’S DINER - DAY

Down-home diner with large, steamy windows on a bustling city street.

INT. MA HAWKIN’S DINER - DAY

At the counter, NATHAN, 20’s, disheveled and looking bath-worthy, peruses the menu. A beat-up TRUMPET CASE perches on the stool next to him.

The waiter, JACK, mid-40’s, approaches. His eyes narrow when he sees it’s Nathan.

JACK

Hey there. You ready to order something?

Nathan exhales sharply.

NATHAN

No. I am NOT ready.

Jack nods. Nathan slaps the counter top. He gestures to the menu.

NATHAN

Can you explain why everything suddenly COSTS MORE!?

JACK

Please do not yell at me or you’ll have to leave. We’ve talked about this.

The MANAGER, 60’s, sidles up beside Jack, whispering into his ear. Jack nods and clears his throat.

JACK

You DO have money today, right? To, um, pay...

Nathan’s face tenses. Seething, he fixes a demonic stare onto Jack.

A “voice” comes from above. It’s Nathan’s deceased PAPA.

NATHAN’S PAPA (V.O.)

(chuckling)

Calm down, son.

Hearing this, Nathan glances toward the ceiling. His face relaxes a bit.

NATHAN’S PAPA (V.O.)

Curb that temper. He just wants to be sure you can pay this time. That’s all.

NATHAN

(whispering)

But they raised the prices, Papa.

Jack and Manager exchange looks as Nathan consults the ceiling.

PAPA (V.O.)

C’mon buddy. You got this.

Nathan wrestles a wad of mangled dollars from his pocket, placing it on the counter. He fishes around for more money in various pockets, producing coins and a few hard candies.

Manager smirks, gesturing toward Nathan’s trumpet case.

MANAGER

So, people have actually been paying to hear ya, huh?

She shakes her head and walks away.

Nathan studies the menu again, then abruptly stands. He shoves the money back into his pocket.

NATHAN

There’s nothing I want here any more. Too expensive, just like everywhere else.

Nathan grabs his trumpet and storms out.

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY

Nathan hustles through the lunchtime crowd for one block. He stops at a corner, in front of an office building.

EXT. OFFICE BUILDING - CONTINUOUS

Nathan squats to open his trumpet case. He stands, trumpet in hand, leaving the case open.

He begins blowing into the trumpet. The sounds are sour and off-key but still, Nathan, eyes half-open, plays from the heart.

Passersby cringe at the dreadful noise. Some actually laugh. A few toss coins or a dollar bill into the case. Nathan peeks each time he hears a clink, trying not to smile and ruin his pucker.

Two women approach, both dressed in business attire: MEREDITH, 30’s, loud and overbearing, and ANNIE, 30’s, clinging to her side.

MEREDITH

Oh no. Please no.

ANNIE

I thought he was supposed to play at a different corner.

They stop in front of Nathan. He shows off his best riff. The women are not impressed.

MEREDITH

Excuse me!

Nathan stops trumpeting.

MEREDITH

(pointing to a second floor window)

We work there. Right there.

Nathan looks up, then nods. Why is she telling him this?

MEREDITH

How the hell can we get any work done with you here?

ANNIE

Weren’t you supposed to be playing on another corner?

Nathan shakes his head.

NATHAN

Nope. Got the permit to play my trumpet right here.

MEREDITH

Oh. It’s called trumpet playing? Sounds more like...drowning cat.

Annie stifles a snicker.

ANNIE

Sometimes we have a hard time concentrating, that’s all.

Nathan swallows. His eyes caress the tarnished trumpet.

NATHAN

But...I’m getting better. My papa always said practice, practice-

MEREDITH

Well, why subject us? Go practice somewhere else! It’s torturous, listening to

you play this...

(waving toward the trumpet)

Piece of crap.

Nathan struggles to contain fury.

NATHAN

This was my Papa’s trumpet. Don’t you dare call it-

ANNIE

Maybe you could give it back to him? Try something else?

NATHAN

He’s DEAD!

MEREDITH

(loud whisper to Annie)

Probably from hearing him play.

Nathan steps toward the women.

NATHAN

HEY! Don't you dare-

PAPA (V.O.)

NATHAN! Lighten up. Take it with humor, my boy. Humor.

Nathan calms slightly, glancing skyward.

PAPA (V.O.)

Remember what I always say? Wash your face with humor, son,

not anger.

Nathan steps back to his spot.

MEREDITH

Weirdo.

Meredith and Annie open the building’s glass door behind Nathan.

MEREDITH

We’ll get this sorted out one way or another.

Deeply saddened, Nathan watches through the door as they disappear up the stairs. He slowly turns back to the street and begins playing again, this time with less heart.

INT. OFFICE - DAY

Rows of desks fill a large room of approximately twenty-five employees.

Meredith, Annie and a gaggle of coworkers gather by the window, reacting to the discordant trumpet music wafting up. Most are amused, some annoyed.

Meredith suddenly takes off toward her desk.

MEREDITH

I’ve got it!

She fishes ten dollars from her purse and crams it into an envelope.

MEREDITH

A collection. We buy the trumpet from him. Get him off the street.

ANNIE

You’re brilliant! C’mon guys, pitch in.

MEREDITH

Let’s make an offer he won’t refuse.

She gives the envelope to a MALE COWORKER, 20’s.

MALE COWORKER

Isn't this a bit...mean?

MEREDITH

Have you seen this guy? I’m sure he could use the money.

ANNIE

I think he might actually appreciate it.

MEREDITH

Yeah, the thing’s probably worth about ten bucks, anyway.

Male Coworker shrugs.

MALE COWORKER

Well, if we’re gonna do this thing...

(stuffing a twenty into the envelope)

Then let’s be generous.

MEREDITH

Totally. C’mon people.

The envelope circulates quickly. With Annie in her shadow, Meredith hovers, ensuring everyone contributes something.

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY

Meredith and Annie exit their building and stop in front of Nathan. Annie holds out the fat envelope.

ANNIE

Here. This is for you.

Nathan stops playing. Confused, he eyes the envelope.

MEREDITH

It’s money. We want to buy that trumpet.

NATHAN

Oh, it’s not for sale. I told you it was my Papa’s.

ANNIE

Not even for three hundred and ten dollars?

NATHAN

But...Why?

MEREDITH

Because we want it, that’s why.

ANNIE

(smiling sweetly)

We had a collection upstairs and, well, we want to make a trade.

Nathan stands frozen. His eyes dart back and forth, from the trumpet to the envelope, to the direction of Ma Hawkin’s Diner, then back again. Round and round.

Annie shakes the envelope up and down.

ANNIE

Three hundred and ten dollars.

MEREDITH

Imagine how long it would take you to make that.

Nathan looks up to the sky, a questioning expression on his face. But, silence. No voice from Papa.

Nathan snatches the envelope, then turns his head away as he offers the trumpet. Meredith takes the beloved instrument with finger tips, holding it far away from her body.

The women start toward the door.

NATHAN

Wait!

Nathan scoops his meager earnings from the trumpet case.

NATHAN

She’ll need this.

He closes the beat-up case and hands it to Annie. The women grin at each other, and scamper up the stairs with Nathan’s trumpet and case.

Nathan watches them go, then turns to face the street. He looks at the envelope, then slowly turns his gaze back toward the door.

Bereft, he stuffs the money into his pocket and wanders toward Ma Hawkin’s Diner in a daze.

INT. MA HAWKIN’S DINER - DAY

Nathan stumbles into the diner, taking the same seat at the counter where he last sat.

JACK

Hmmm. Decide our new prices are okay after all?

Nathan nods.

NATHAN

I have lots of money now.

Nathan looks at the stool next to him, where his trumpet once sat. Oozing regret, he looks toward the ceiling.

NATHAN

(softly)

Papa?

No reply.

NATHAN

Papa, you mad at me?

JACK

Um, just let me know when you’re ready to order.

(looking around)

Hey, where's your trumpet, Buddy?

Nathan remains silent, holding his head in his hands. After a long while, he flips through the menu, then stops to hold his head in his hands again.

Finally he jumps up and runs out without ordering. Jack sadly watches after him.

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY

Nathan runs back to his corner, in front of Meredith and Annie’s office door. He leans against the building, watching people pass.

EXT. CITY STREET - LATER

The sun has shifted in the sky when Meredith and Annie finally come out. Their animated chatting stops when Nathan leaps in front of them. He holds out the envelope.

NATHAN

The deal is off. I want my horn back.

The women push past, calling behind as they walk.

MEREDITH

Ha! Not a chance, Mister.

EXT. CITY STREET - CONTINUOUS

Nathan keeps their pace, waving the envelope.

NATHAN

But it’s all in here. Every cent. Didn’t even buy a cup of coffee.

The women continue striding along, so Nathan sprints past, walking backwards in their path.

He talks fast, his voice shaky.

NATHAN

Listen. I wasn’t thinking straight, and now I’m... I’m... I mean, my Papa’s

trumpet! It’s like I lost an arm or a leg. Please.

Meredith and Annie stop. They look at each other. Seeing this, Nathan’s face softens. He nods slowly.

NATHAN

I knew you’d understand-

MEREDITH

For. Get. It. We’re done here!

ANNIE

Yeah, I’m sorry, but we did make a deal.

Nathan visibly trembles, his face growing crimson.

MEREDITH

Annie, let’s get going before Krakatoa erupts.

They leave in a hurry. Nathan takes off running in the opposite direction, bumping into commuters as he weaves through the crowd.

He runs for many blocks, and arrives at a run-down, brick apartment building. He enters.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Nathan dashes down the dingy hallway of peeling paint and a trash-covered floor.

He unlocks a door and enters his apartment.

INT. ONE-ROOM APARTMENT - DAY

Equally dingy decor, with a double bed in the corner, a folding table and chair. Across from the bed, a closet door.

Nathan throws himself onto the bed, face-up. Tears spill.

NATHAN

What am I gonna do now, Papa? Those two ladies, they just don’t care.

Nathan looks to the ceiling, head cocked, listening. A clock ticks. Otherwise, silence.

NATHAN

I know I did the wrong thing. The trumpet’s gone. Now you are too!

Nathan covers his face. He cries harder into his hands.

After several long moments, Nathan stops crying. He lowers his hands, eyeing the closet door.

Slowly he rises, walks toward the closet and opens the door. Its contents are sparse; a unit of shelves take up most of the space.

On the top shelf, a cardboard box. Nathan stares at the box, then looks behind him. He gets the chair, dragging it to the closet.

NATHAN

Papa, if you can hear me, I want you to know, I have to do this.

Nathan continues speaking in a hushed tone as he climbs onto the chair.

NATHAN

I know you said I should never, ever use this thing. But what choice do I have

now?

Nathan reaches into the box. With his hand in the box, Nathan freezes, looking at the ceiling.

NATHAN

Papa. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but... Justice. You always said justice is the

way.

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY

Nathan, dressed in a hoodie, stands in front of Meredith and Annie’s office door.

His hands are in his pockets, clearly holding a weighty object in his right hand.

Meredith and Annie arrive, clutching cups of coffee. They startle as Nathan leaps in front of them.

NATHAN

Okay. One more time. Yes or no? Will you give back what belongs

to me?

MEREDITH

Let it go. It’s already scrap metal.

ANNIE

Excuse us, please.

Nathan’s head shakes, side to side. Meredith notices Nathan’s hand, and the bulge, in his hoodie pocket. She nudges Annie. Panic.

NATHAN

(loud)

Okay, but THIS...

He fumbles with the heavy object. Ashen, both women freeze in terror.

NATHAN

...is all your fault!

Nathan yanks the object from his pocket, waving it in their faces.

Meredith and Annie, eyes huge, exhale in relief.

NATHAN

Yeah, that’s right. My Papa always said that this...

He switches on the CORDLESS MICROPHONE in his hand.

NATHAN

...this is lethal!

Meredith and Annie stand frozen, still trembling and breathing heavily.

Nathan looks wistfully toward the sky.

NATHAN

What’s that, Papa?

Nathan's face lights up as he chuckles.

NATHAN

Yeah. He says this makes my trumpet playing sound like Miles Davis... Any last

requests ladies?

Still stunned, the women feebly wobble toward their office door. Annie manages a weak

smile.

And the song begins, atonal and toe-curling.

NATHAN

(singing)

Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars...

FADE OUT.