Permission

By Emberlynn Pendergraft

EXT. SUBURBAN NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 1

A school bus pulls into frame from the right, leaving the door obscured. The bus stops for approximately ten seconds before lurching back into drive.

As it leaves the frame, the bus reveals a child waiting on the opposite side of the street. ADAM is somewhere around 11 or 12 and holds himself with the confidence of a middle-aged used car salesman.

As he begins crossing the street, he slows down, and his back straightens out. His eyes light up as he takes off one strap of his Transformers backpack and begins digging around in it one-handed, eyes never leaving his target while his pace picks back up.

ADAM

Hey! Mr. Louis!

JACOB comes into view over Adam’s shoulder, where the Transformers backpack is being hastily put back on. Jacob sits under an overgrown magnolia tree in a dilapidated Flyers lawn chair.

He looks over the top of his cheap-looking sunglasses at Adam, taking a sip of his beer before hollering back.

JACOB

What do you want, kid?

Adam stops in front of him and holds out a piece of paper, inches from Jacob’s face.

ADAM

Sign this for me.

Jacob plucks the paper from Adam’s hand and pulls it away from his face to read it.

JACOB

This is a permission slip.

Adam’s shit-eating grin falters for a fraction of a second before he picks it back up.

ADAM

(hand on his hip, scratching his head) Really? I didn’t even notice.

JACOB (unamused)

Cut the shit, kid.

ADAM

What shit? I have no shit. No siree. I am shit-free. One might even say shitless. Shitn’t if you’re feeling casual.

JACOB (deadpan) Language.

ADAM

(pleased with himself) Oh, English.

Jacob sighs heavily before handing the permission slip back over.

JACOB

That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Little shit. I can’t sign this for you.

(gesturing towards the house to his left) Go ask your mom.

ADAM

My mom doesn’t get home until tomorrow afternoon.

Jacob’s brow furrows. He turns to look at Adam’s house, devoid of cars in the driveway and activity through the windows.

JACOB

Where did she go?

ADAM

Oh. Work, but she said she had to take care of something after her shift, and she grabbed dad’s keys, so I think she’s gonna go find him.

JACOB Find him?

ADAM

Yeah, he left last week.

Jacob opens his mouth, then gently closes it. He looks back at the permission slip.

JACOB

I still don’t think I can sign this. I barely know you.

Adam attempts to push the paper back towards Jacob, a new look of determination crossing his eyes.

ADAM

Yes, you do. I talk to you literally every day after school, and I mowed your lawn last summer, and I brought you lunch last week, and. And. And we’re friends, damn it.

JACOB Language. (he sighs)

Kid, you mowed my lawn because you begged me to. The lunch you brought me last week was canned soup, and it tasted burnt. I still haven’t figured that one out because it’s a damn liquid. And we aren’t friends either. You’re my annoying kid neighbor that I can’t seem to shake.

Adam puts a hand to his chest and gasps with all the gusto of a deeply offended southern belle.

ADAM

Why I never!

Jacob begins nursing his beer again. His phone chimes from its place in the lawn chair’s cupholder. He picks it up and his face twists up. Adam attempts to lean over to read the text, only to meet Jacob’s hand on his forehead, pushing him away.

ADAM (CONT’D)

Is that your wife?

JACOB No.

ADAM

I bet your wife would sign the permission slip for me.

JACOB

I don’t have a wife.

ADAM Yikes.

Adam pauses, looking down at the paper.

ADAM (CONT’D)

I bet your ex-wife would sign the permission slip for me.

Jacob begins to stand up.

JACOB

Ok, kid. We’re done.

Adam scrambles to usher him back into his chair.

ADAM

NO! C’mon. Please, Mr. Louis.

Jacob sits back down with no fight. He rubs his temples.

JACOB

I don’t even know your name.

ADAM

Adam. My name is Adam. (he takes a gulp of air)

My name is Adam and I have to go on this field trip because they’re gonna let us take a tour of the mill and my dad works at the mill and I might be able to see him there and then mom can stay home because she won’t have to look for him anymore and then everything will be okay.

Adam puts on a façade of strength, but his hands shake where they’re gripping the straps of his backpack, and his lip twitches slightly.

Jacob holds his hand out.

JACOB

Hand it over. And a pen.

Adam shoves the paper back into Jacob’s hand and rips off his backpack in an attempt to find a pen. He pulls one out, clicking it with fervor before forcefully placing it in Jacob’s hand.

ADAM

Thank you. Thank you so much. Holy shit, Mr. Lewis.

JACOB

Turn around, kid.

ADAM

What?

JACOB

Do you want me to sign it?

Adam turns around quickly. Jacob pins the permission slip against the vinyl illustration of Bumblebee with one hand and uses the other to sign his name, using Adam’s back as a surface to write against.

Jacob taps him on the shoulder and hands over the paper. Adam regards it like it’s holy.

JACOB (CONT’D)

I need you to know that your plan might not work.

ADAM It will.

JACOB

Adam... If it doesn’t you can, um... You can always ask me for help. If your dad isn’t around and your mom is at work.

Adam clutches the paper to his chest as his entire face lights up.

ADAM

I fuckin’ knew we were friends!

JACOB

(under his breath)

Language for Christ’s sake.

ADAM

And anyways, it’s totally gonna work. I know it.

Adam turns to walk away, looking down at the permission slip as he treks back towards his house.

ADAM (CONT’D)

(to himself, looking at the signature)

He doesn’t look like a Jacob.

He stops when he reaches his door, pulling the key out of a potted plant on the small porch. From his own yard, Jacob stands and waits for Adam to enter and lock the door behind him. He grabs his beer, folds up his chair, and heads into his own house.