The Absence
A short screenplay. Beware, adult content and weird stuff in this one.
FADE IN:
INT. THE LIVING ROOM AT JACKS'S RUN DOWN SHACK - NIGHT
Two guys, old friends, in their 40s stand looking at an open book resting on JACK'S coffee table. Messy handwriting is scrawled across both open pages, but it comes to an end with what appears to be a drop of water on the page. Both men are confused and there is tension between them that neither of them can explain.
EMMET
(visibly uncomfortable and nervously eyeballing Jack)
Just go find one of them para-normal-ologists, yeah, a paranormalologist.
JACK
A paranormalologist? Emmet, that's not even a word, let alone a nine-to-five job.
EMMET
Well this here thing ain't normal. I'm tellin' you straight up, what we're lookin' at ain't got no sense or normal about it.
JACK
And neither is Jackson's collection of bug heads he keeps in your bathroom, but I'm not about to go unleashing a crucifix-wielding exorcist on your only son.
EMMET
Well you ask for my advice and I still say you call a paranormalologist. We just don't know what this here thing Is, I mean-
JACK
(calm and appearing to float an inch from the ground)
-I call it the Absence.
EMMET
And I call it not normal, and when I have even a tiny little drop of not normal just over the street from my place, I say you call the-
JACK
-Fucking Ghostbusters? Is that what you think I need? Is that one of them there para-normal-ologists?
Emmet raises his eyebrows and suppresses a look of hurt. There's something eating him up inside. Finally the hurt fades and his attention is drawn back to the open book and the drop of water.
EMMET
So you telling me that nothing can shift it?
JACK
Things just bounce off of it, every damn time, no matter what I try.
EMMET
But it's just an itty bitty drop of water.
JACK
The Absence.
EMMET
Absent in the head bone if you ask me. Now step aside while Uncle Emmet shows you how it's done.
Emmet looks around the room for a suitable tool...or weapon. He spots a dirty dinner plate on the couch. The plate is festooned with flies and he picks up a fork still caked with something old.
EMMET
(disgusted)
The fuck you been eatin', man?
JACK
Emmet, what ever it is you are planning to do with that fork, I just wouldn't, okay. I just...wouldn't.
EMMET
I'll perform a goddamn lobotomy with the thing if you don't stop this whole game you're playin' with my head!
JACK
Yes, aren't little minds peculiar when faced with things they don't understand. I didn't invite you over to remove the Absence with a soiled dinner fork-
EMMET
(tossing away the fork)
-then show me where your goddamn jackhammer is! Actually, no, I got me a better idea. Fuck the damn paranormalologist, and fuck your little sweat bead on the page there, I'mna burn the little fucker right in front of your eyes like a voodoo doll dancin' on coals in the bayou!
Emmet digs around in his overalls pocket and pulls out a Zippo lighter engraved with Jesus riding a 1979 Harley Davidson Fat Bob. He flips the lid on his thigh and then hesitates, visibly shaken by something DEEP INSIDE.
EMMET
(calm but burning up inside)
If that thing really is the devil then I ain't about to give it some fire for free.
His eyes burn with fear and rage and he gently closes the Zippo lid before launching an attack on the Abesnce. He slams the lighter, Jesus side down, hard onto the open page, right were the words come to an end and on top of the water drop.
The Zippo is torn from Emmet's hand by some invisible force and ricochets off Jack's head bone.
JACK
Damn! But you'll give me a cracked skull for free you crazy fool!
EMMET
(nervously laughing)
Sure did knock that mad ass monk look off your face though. But goddamn you were right, I didn't even raise a ripple and I piledrived the thing.
Emmet squares up to Jack and does his best to look like the friend he's been for the past 32 years.
EMMET
Jack, be straight with me now. I don't want none of this reverent bullshit, just a straight up explanation. That...thing-
JACK
The Absence.
He appears to be floating again, no more than an inch from the floorboards, but just enough to make Emmet think his friend may not be of this earth.
EMMET
Call it what you will, but what in the name of a southern smoked devil brisket is that thing?
JACK
All I know is I was writing something down and that thing got in the way. I tried wiping it, scratching it, cutting it and it turns out that Jesus himself can't budge the thing.
EMMET
So if you don't know nothing, why you calling it the Absence?
JACK
Don't get much company here anymore, not since you got yourself a wife and a mess of kids, so I thought, 'why not get familiar with this new visitor to my home?'.
EMMET
So that's why you gave it a name?
JACK
That I did, although it came real easy like, and as you know I ain't one for making rash decisions.
EMMET
Jack, I'm walking out that door right now, and you and me, you know we go way back, back before the days we used to shotgun Mad Dog coolers on hay bales under the moon, before school and raising hell in the girls' locker room.
JACK
Yeah, we raised some hell for sure.
EMMET
And now I think there's something in this house, or in your brain - and I can say that, Jack, because I'm your friend - but I'm telling you straight up that there's been a piece of bona fide hell raised in this room here tonight. Don't ask me how I know, but I just do and right now I'm saying you should close that damn book, put it somewhere where you ain't going to find it and come back with me and Elise. Relax some, rough up them two kids of mine and heck we can even shotgun us another Mad Dog.
Seeing the placid, unflinching expression on Jack's face, Emmet shows doubt in his eyes, wishing he hadn't suggested his friend spend time with his family. Rough up the kids? Shit...
JACK
(emotionless)
I know how you know, Emmet.
EMMET
What the fuck, Jack, I don't know what little path down the woods you're takin' this, but change of plan; fuck the Mad Dogs, you stay right here, in this house, just you and them bug heads, and I'll take this book and this drop of freakin' devil water and I'm gonna leave it in a big fuckin' hole, or a dumpster, just some place far away like outside that retired congressman's place out of town. That old bastard deserves-
JACK
Paranormalologist.
The word injects like frost into Emmet's veins. He grows visibly uncomfortable. Sweating.
JACK
You're a paranormalologist, Emmet. Why didn't you tell me you were a paranormalologist?
EMMET
N-Now you said it yourself, Jack, that ain't even a word, let alone a job.
JACK
You want the book. You seek the Absence. I saw it on your face the moment you entered the room and I knew it long before this; it's why I asked you over.
EMMET
I think it's time I left.
JACK
Tell me, Emmet, have you read the words written on the pages before you? Have you seen where the Absence has chosen to end my entry?
And just as our eyes are conditioned to pick a lost child in a crowd, Emmet's eyes fall immediately on his own name, written over and over, along with the names of others, familiar and loved and the unthinkable things that await them. The air leaves his lungs, his frame slumps and his heart pumps frozen blood. He lunges for the door, casting a fearful gaze over his shoulder, expecting to see Jack living the words he wrote. But Jack just watches, emotionless, still.
JACK
You should go, my friend, go back to Elise and your two delightful children. And yes Emmet, do rough them up for me.
Emmet bolts for the front door, fumbles with the handle, and leaves.
EXT. JACK'S FRONT YARD - NIGHT
Outside, the fresh evening air provides no sense of escape; in his mind Emmet is still in that house, with a person he once knew, with that thing and those unspeakable words. He runs and turns as he reaches the street to see Jack silhouetted in the open door. He's holding something shiny in his hand and he throws it casually towards his friend. Instinctively, Emmet catches the object. It's warm and familiar. The Zippo.
JACK
You'll need that little trinket of yours.
EMMET
(breathless)
A lighter? Jesus?
JACK
If you like, Emmet, I have fire of my own.
FADE OUT.
THE END