Four Women, Tired of Being Tired (excerpt)

A well-used factory green Honda CRV traveling west on the Interstate. Attractive, light-skinned, early30s, bi-racial female at the wheel, talking on her cellphone.

ANNIE
We’re fucked.

ROGER
[Deep, calm, naturally reassuring voice] 
Yeah. Anyone with a soul knows. Just pushed Joyce, Saul, and the crew out of the house, bloodies in hand. Shocked political zombies walking home in the desert on zero sleep.
[pause -- concerned Dad]
Have you slept?

ANNIE
Don’t think I’ve gotten a decent night since arriving in Florida. Kept popping awake dreading this outcome was a possibility, and that no one was listening. One asshole last week kept shoving his fucking phone in my face with FiveThirtyEight on the screen. I wanted to grab it out of his hands, smash it against his forehead, and scream ‘When was the last time you talked to a person with calloused hands?!?!?!! Condescending arrogant pricks. Travelin’ through to check on their dedicated servants to the Party. Did I tell you that when we arrived last month, not one person knew we were coming? Weren’t on any volunteer list. They didn’t have either of our names. ‘Glitches in the system’ was all they said. No shit. So much for high tech online organizing. 

ROGER
[Waits a beat to let Annie catch her breath and hear him.]
Your mother would have been proud. Spitting rocks at the result if she were alive, of course.
[pause]
You did good, sweetheart. 

ANNIE
For all it mattered, but I was feeling so helpless. [Pounds steering wheel] Smug mutherfuckers!!! Telling me it was important to gather data while walking the neighborhoods, knocking on doors. In October?!?! Who the fuck is going to change their mind that late in the game?? Undecided, my ass. People knew once the primaries were over. I should have been in Florida...in Ohio...in Pennsylvania all summer long. Hell, I should have been there last year. 

ROGER
[Not dismissive, but practical.]
Spilt milk. Get some rest. You know the real battles are ahead, are ongoing. [pause] You stopping in Biloxi or straight back to New Orleans?

ANNIE
Already crossed into Louisiana. I don’t have the energy to sit in silence with Remy, or worse, have him mansplain how everything is going to be alright. [hurt] Our conversations slipped into cordial a few weeks ago. I see the writing about us, so I’m avoiding the wall.

ROGER
Don’t be so hard on yourself, Hannah Lea. Get home, take a long hot shower, close the curtains and climb into bed. Tomorrow is another day.

ANNIE
[Smiles at her rarely used formal name. Term of endearment from her step-father.]
Yep, another day in the Dirty South. 

ANNIE hangs up, tosses the phone into the passenger seat and turns her music back up. Chuckles with recognition at the reggae beat coming through the speakers.

BAD BRAINS
All the people around the land
They want to get a better man
But what they, just don’t see
It’s got to start with you and me

Oh the man yah, he won’t annoy ya
No, the man yah, he won’t annoy ya
But a little Betty will

ANNIE
Yeah, we’re fucked.

________________________________________________________________________
Petite, curvy, gorgeous, mid/late-20s black woman walking around a large apartment filled with unpacked boxes, a bicycle in the corner, and other evidence of a recent move-in. 

SYDNEY NOELLE
Daddy, I said I’m staying in Jackson for the now. New Orleans just got too close. 

JUDGE
Ornery, child. Take the pistol like I told you?

SYDNEY NOELLE
[Wonder-where-I-get-that-from eye roll in response to ‘orney’.]
No Daddy, and I told you I wasn’t. Just like I didn’t when I moved to Atlanta. Or, Los Angeles. Or, DC. Not in my house, not in my car, not on my person. Cities are cities. A gun’s not going to make me any safer.

JUDGE
 [Proud and respects his only child, but disagrees. Changes the subject.]
Do you know if Annie is coming to the courthouse today? Told y’all you were running a false errand there in Florida. Sheep don’t listen when black folk are talking. Particularly when their wool is white.

SYDNEY NOELLE
[A bit irritated by the direction of the conversation, but still loving.]
We left Pensacola around the same time. She should be getting to town soon. I don’t know what her plans are for the day. Neither of us got much sleep. 

JUDGE
Okay, okay. You working today?

SYDNEY NOELLE
Nothing formal. Might ride my bike downtown if the weather holds. Get my bearings at street level. What I need to do is sort through these boxes. Throw some shit out. Thinking a few been following me around since college. And I smell mold. 

JUDGE
[Hates when his daughter cusses.]
You been to Big John’s yet? 

SYDNEY NOELLE
[Amused]
Remember I’ve only been in Mississippi since September, then rushed off to canvas with Annie. Besides, I think pig ears are more to your taste than mine. 

JUDGE
How I raised such a bougie child is beyond me.

SYDNEY NOELLE
[Playing their familiar game.]
Must be from my mama’s side of the family. She’s still cursing in Atlanta having married a boy from the country. 

JUDGE
A country boy made good. 

After a quiet knock, BEAUTIFUL MATURE WHITE FEMALE ASSISTANT brings coffee on a tray into the rich well-appointed office, catches his words and smiles. His eyes return the smile at his latest admirer/conquest. 

SYDNEY NOELLE
Speaking of country, I’m considering a road trip to the Delta next weekend. Does Uncle Man still live outside Cleveland? They’ve opened a new GRAMMY museum there. City leaders hoping to spark some economic revitalization with tourist dollars, like every other… 

[Realizes her father’s attention is now elsewhere.]

SYDNEY NOELLE
Tell Alexandra I said ‘Hey.’

JUDGE
[Caught]
What? Oh, yeah. Okay. Time for me to get to court anyway, sweet pea. Love you.

SYDNEY NOELLE
Love you too, Daddy.

[Puts the phone down, picks up a box marked kitchen and starts in that direction.]

SYDNEY NOELLE
[Muttering]
Old dog don’t need new tricks. Still catchin’ prey. 

________________________________________________________________________

Slender, fit, tall, striking black woman in her late60s/early70s supporting gorgeous gray locs standing next to a record player console, circa 1972 as is most of the decor in the comfortable apartment. She’s changing out vinyl. We see the cover of the album being sheathed: Nina Simone’s ‘Black Gold’. Two older mutts snore quietly from their respective pillow beds. Deep in thought, CARMEN glances at the clock on the wall, then down at the bar cart directly beneath, eight something A.M.

CARMEN
[Mutters]
Fuck it.

CARMEN walks to the cart, uncorks a bottle with brown liquid and pours a couple fingers worth into one of the etched vintage glasses. Takes a significant pull. One of the dogs looks up and watches her as she returns to the console with her drink; the other continues to snore soundly, not moving a muscle. She places the glass on a coaster, leans over and starts to finger through the album selection hidden within the furniture’s confines. Curious, the dog gets up and makes his way to his mistress, who scratches the back of his ears.

CARMEN
So, Franklin, which one would Joseph choose? 

FRANKLIN THE DOG gives a slight whimper at the sound of his master’s name. 

CARMEN
I know, pooch. I miss him too. 

CARMEN finds her selection with a sad smile. Back to camera, loads the album and drops the needle. The Meters ‘People Say’ comes from the speakers. Picks up her glass, walks to the window to look down onto Bayou St. John.

THE METERS
Powers of today
So pretty darn confused
Giving everybody
In the world the blues
Food is getting high
And the fuel is getting low
The rich are getting richer
And the poor are getting poor

CARMEN
[Face goes from dark to darker]
Power’s never confused. They knew exactly what they were doing. 

CARMEN finishes her bourbon. Places the empty glass onto the cart. Pissed off. 

CARMEN
I’m too old for this shit.

CARMEN walks toward the door.  Grabs the leashes from their hooks.

CARMEN
Come on, Franklin. Get up, Teddy. We’re taking another walk. I need to get out of here.