Positive

By

Samantha Schweitzer
Over a BLACK SCREEN a RUNNING SHOWER HEAD and You are My
Sunshine (HUMMED)

HUMMING continues until it reaches the end of line: You

make me happy, then…

CUT TO:

INT. APARTMENT BATHROOM (SHOWER) - DAY

HUMMING stops, echoing. RUNNING SHOWER HEAD continues.

EMMA (BIRDIE) (24 y.o., too proud and the weight of the
world on her shoulders) is sitting in the tub, hugging her
knees to her chest, as water continues to spray onto her
sodden head. Her mascara runs down her cheeks, mixing with
the tears absently streaming from her far away eyes.

Beat.

A MUFFLED KNOCKING from beyond the bathroom sounds and

stops. Emma continues staring, stoic, in the water.
KNOCKING starts again, startling Emma and causing her to
jump. Her mother DEBORAH’S MUFFLED VOICE (41 y.o.,
overbearing with good intentions) comes over the knocking.

DEBORAH
Birdie? Birdie, are you home?

Emma wipes her cheeks, knees still to her chest.

EMMA
(voice cracking)
Ye-yeah! Just a minute! Just a
minute, Ma!

KNOCKING stops as Emma yells back to her mother. Emma

wipes her cheeks once more before she starts to lift
herself up off the tub floor.

CUT TO:
INT. APARTMENT BATHROOM - DAY CONT.'D

Emma stands over the bathroom sink, dressed and hair in a

towel, hands on either side of the counter. Her knuckles
are white with her grip. She’s staring at her reflection,
tight-lipped and hard eyes. Her breathing is heavy, but
even through her nose.

She breaks her stare, looking to the trash bin to her left.
At the top of the bin is the open packaging of a pregnancy
test. Emma’s grip on the counter’s edge tightens, the
material GROANING against the strain as her shoulders rise
slightly.

Beat.
KEYS IN THE DOORKNOB to the apartment come from O.S.
Emma’s grip loosens, her shoulders and expression dropping.
She quickly moves toward the trash, taking out the box, the
discarded test RATTLING against the inside.

DEBORAH O.S.
(a little sing-songy on statements)
Birdie? I let myself in. Your
neighbors were starting to give me
weird looks. Hope that was okay.

Emma puts the box on the edge of the counter and dumps the
rest of the contents from the bin on the floor. She puts
the box at the bottom of the bin, replaces the bin where it
was, and piles the dumped contents on top.

EMMA
(lightly panting with exertion)
It’s fine, Mom! I’ll be out in a
second!

She finishes filling the bin, and quickly washes her hands
in the sink, glaring at her reflection momentarily. Her
lip curls in frustration as she drops her eyes and shakes
her head lightly.

CUT TO:
INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY - DAY CONT.'D

Emma walks down the dim hallway, her footsteps quick and
heavy, her shoulders and head slightly hunched inward. She
walks into the kitchen/dining area where her mother is
flipping through envelopes that were left on the table.
She stops in her tracks.

Deborah turns around and gives Emma a warm smile. The

cross pendant she wears glares in the sunlight at Emma
simultaneously.

DEBORAH
Hey, Birdie girl! Busy with a
bird bath, I see.

Emma rolls her eyes.

EMMA
You don’t have to call it that,
Mom. I was just showering for the
day.

DEBORAH
Oh, come now, honey. You used to
love when I called it your bird
bath when you were a kid.
Emma crosses her arms and puts her weight on one foot.

EMMA
That was then. I’m twenty-four.
Don’t you think I’m a little too
old for that?

Her mother shrugs, her smile faltering and growing a little

smaller, not reaching her eyes anymore.

DEBORAH
(still shrugging)
You’re still my kid.

Emma just stares at her mother, deadpan.

She drops her arms and huffs out a breath. She moves
toward her mother, taking the envelopes from Deborah’s
hands.

EMMA
(as she’s walking toward her mother)
I’m twenty-four. I’m too old for
“bird baths”.

Emma looks at the top envelope of the stack her mother was
looking through. An “URGENT: PAST DUE” stamp on the front
stares back at her. She rolls her eyes again, the corners
of her mouth dropping slightly.

Her mother leans on the table, facing Emma who has her back
to Deborah.

DEBORAH
It’s not a crime to want to
continue little traditions with
your kids, Birdie. You’ll learn
that someday soon.

Emma’s brows shoot up as she pulls the envelopes away. She

turns to face her mother.

EMMA
What do you mean by that?

Deborah’s brows furrow, despite a slight grin. She shrugs

casually.

DEBORAH
You always wanted kids of your
own. And, as you so adamantly
pointed out, you’re twenty-four.
People your age typically —

(MORE…)
Emma grips the envelopes tighter, the paper and cellophane
CRINKLING.

EMMA
(speaking over Deborah)
Okay, well maybe that was your
experience, Mom, but times are
different. Things have changed.

DEBORAH CONT.'D
— start having families now or in
the next few years.

Deborah’s grin completely falls as she straightens,

crossing her arms.

DEBORAH
Birdie, do you want to talk about
it?

EMMA
(throwing up her hands and letting them
drop)
Talk about what? There’s nothing
to talk about.

Deborah looks at the envelopes in Emma’s hand, then back to

Emma. Emma holds her stare, pressing the thumb of her
empty hand into her knuckle.

Beat.

Emma blinks as her eyes turn glassy.

EMMA
(quieter than before, shrugging weakly)
There’s nothing to talk about.

Deborah’s hands tighten around her elbows.

DEBORAH
Why won’t you let me help you,
Emma?

Emma turns back toward her kitchen counter and tosses the
envelopes on its surface. She leans against the counter’s
edge with both hands.

EMMA
I’m doing fine, Mom. I am. It’s
one payment.

DEBORAH
You said that last month, too.
Emma presses her lips together and rocks forward slightly.
She’s staring at a coffee stain on the countertop.

Beat.

DEBORAH
My door is always open for you,
Birdie. You know that. I don’t
know why you moved out —

Emma squeezes her eyes shut.

EMMA
(cutting Deborah off, firm
without malice)
Mom. I’m fine. I can handle it.
Promise.

Deborah frowns, taking a small step towards Emma. Emma

takes a deep breath before pushing herself back up and
turning to face her mother. Deborah comes to a halt and
bites her lip.

EMMA
(offering a weak grin)
Promise, Mom.

Her mother looks away and shakes her head.

DEBORAH
If you say so, Birdie.

Emma reaches over and puts a hand on her mother’s shoulder.

She offers another, slightly stronger smile.

EMMA
I do. Now, I hate to kick you
out, —

Deborah uncrosses her arms and waves dismissively at Emma.

DEBORAH
(speaking over Emma)
Yeah, yeah.

EMMA (CONT.'D)
— but I have errands to run today.

Deborah grabs hold of Emma’s elbows, causing Emma to have a

mixed look of shock and concern.

DEBORAH
I love you, Emma. Promise me
you’ll come to me if things get
bad.
Emma blinks a couple of times, her expression settling into
discomfort as she bites the inside of her lip.

Short beat.

Deborah shakes Emma’s arms firmly once. She tucks in her

chin, and looks at Emma from under her brow. Emma’s
eyebrows raise slightly and her lips part, surprised by the
sudden force. She stiffens.

EMMA
(stammering a little on “okay”)
Okay, Mom, yes. I promise.
You’ll be the first to know.

Deborah straightens and loosens her grip, her hands sliding

down Emma’s forearms to her hands.

DEBORAH
Thank you, sweetheart. Can I
swing by this weekend? Stay a
little longer?

Emma looks to the ceiling as she speaks.

EMMA
Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think Saturday
works best. I have a shift on
Sunday.

DEBORAH
Great! I’ll pick up lunch from
that diner you like around the
corner.

Deborah collects her coat and dons it as they both move

toward the main entrance of the apartment. She takes
Emma’s face in both hands, and kisses her forehead before
leaving. Emma shuts the door behind her.

Short beat.

Emma looks to the ceiling with glossy eyes, and takes a

shaky breath.

CUT TO:
EXT. CITY STREET - DAY CONT.'D

Emma walks down the sidewalk, her footsteps heavy and quick
again. Her shoulders and chin are tucked in toward her
chest, both against the chill in the air, and the
perception of other people. She’s looking at her phone as
she walks, like many around her using the sidewalk.
She looks up to ensure she’s where she needs to be, the
vestibule of the bus stop coming into view. She looks back
to her phone and continues forward. She looks up one more
time to avoid colliding with the vestibule, looping its
corner and sitting on the bench, her eyes glued to the
screen.

THEO (9 y.o., guarded nature with a subtle sense of

“heroism” about him) glances up from his beat-up teal Game
Boy Color as Emma sits on the bench. He’s alone. He
writes her off quickly and resumes his adventures as LINK
in THE LEGEND OF ZELDA.

Emma’s eyes scroll rapidly back and forth across her phone
screen, her thumb gradually sliding up its surface as she
reads. Theo’s Game Boy suddenly shuts down in the middle
of a battle.

He starts hitting the side of the console with the palm of

his hand.

THEO
Dammit! Stupid piece of junk!

Emma’s brows raise as she jumps at Theo’s exclamation. She

watches a moment as he continues hitting the system. Theo
stops and looks at her, brows cinched with frustration.

THEO
What are you looking at?

Emma’s mouth opens absently.

EMMA
(choked out)
I —

Emma looks back to her phone where a Planned Parenthood

site is pulled up. She glances back to Theo, who’s still
looking at her though his frustration has mixed with
confusion. He looks at the phone in her hand.

EMMA
(raising her voice)
Nothing!

She fumbles the phone a bit as she tries to close the site.
Theo recoils slightly at her exclamation, watching as she
scrambles.

EMMA
(under her breath, but not really)
Shit. Shit.
She finally just turns the screen off. Emma puts the phone
on her lap and holds her head in her hand. Theo looks on a
little longer, but finally turns his attention back to his
Game Boy to try and discern why it switched off suddenly.

Beat.

Emma drops her hand, lifts her head and gets up from the
bench pocketing her phone. She’s about to step back around
the vestibule when Theo calls after her.

THEO
Where are you going? The bus will
be here in…

He looks at his watch, printed with fading AVATAR: THE LAST

AIRBENDER graphics.

THEO
…ten minutes.

Emma stops short, looking back at the young boy. He’s

looking at her innocently though her eyebrows are furrowed
with confusion.

THEO
The bus is scheduled for 3:25
pickup. I know they run late
sometimes, but this one’s pretty
good.

EMMA
Oh yeah?

Emma’s shoulders drop a bit as Theo nods in confirmation.

She looks at the boy — alone on the bench — then around the
vestibule and down the sidewalk.

THEO
The other ones are always late,
but not this one. Not really.

EMMA
(confused and a bit
concerned)
Your mom and dad don’t pick you up
from school?

Theo looks down at a ragged, discarded fast food bag where

the street meets the curb with hardened eyes.

THEO
(a bit curt)
I take the bus.
Emma squeezes her hand around the strap of her purse,
wincing at his words. She looks around one more time,
bouncing her heel up and down as she does. She presses her
lips together and returns calmly to the bench.

The two sit in silence for a moment, not looking at each

other. Emma picks at a loose thread on her coat.

Theo goes back to looking over the Game Boy. He shakes it

a couple times and tries the power button again to no
avail. He sighs and pulls his worn backpack onto his lap
and opens the smaller pocket to replace the game system.

As he’s maneuvering the device to fit into the pocket among

various small items (pencils, crayons, highlighters), a few
items drop from the pouch, including a key which CHIMES
against the concrete.

Emma slips her purse off her shoulder and leaves it on the
bench between them. She squats down and picks up the
fallen items, the key being the last and kept separate from
the writing utensils.

Theo watches Emma pick up the items after getting the

console to fit. He hesitates a moment as she lifts the
small collection of writing instruments to him initially.
He looks first at her hand, then meets her eyes.

THEO
(taking the small pile of pens and pencils)
Thank you.

He shoves the collection back into the pouch, taking an

extra second to make sure they don’t fall out again before
turning back to Emma. She’s now holding the key up to him.
He takes it — quickly and gently — from her. He holds the
key as he zips the pouch closed.

THEO
Thanks.

Emma stands.

EMMA
No problem.

Theo replaces the backpack on the ground next to his feet.

He straightens and puts the key into his coat pocket.

Emma watches him carefully, noting the button clasp on the

outside of the pocket. She points to it.
 EMMA
You should probably button your
pocket, kid. You don’t want to
lose your key.

He looks at her, the pocket, then back to her as he engages

the clasp with an audible CLICK.

THEO
You sound like my mom.

Emma puts her hands in her pockets and bites her lip.

EMMA
I — yeah, I probably do.

THEO
Are you a mom?

Emma squeezes her hands into tight fists in her pockets,

breaking eye contact with Theo. She goes to sit on the
bench, but partially sits on her purse. She stands, slides
the purse over, and sits on the bench a bit closer to Theo
than previously.

He shimmies himself a little further away.

Emma looks at the ground between her feet.

EMMA
I guess I am. Or I’m going to be.
Soon.

Theo takes in Emma with his eyes. She’s twisting the toe
portion of her shoe into the concrete. His shoulders relax
a little as he speaks.

THEO
My mom helps me a lot. When she
can. Moms are good like that.

Emma smiles, letting out a small huff through her nose to

serve as a laugh. She looks at Theo.

EMMA
Yeah, I guess they are. You’re a
smart kid for recognizing that
now, while you’re young. I’m sure
you help her out, too?

Theo shrugs, watching his feet as he alternates kicking

them.
 THEO
I guess. Uncle Ir— my uncle says
that the best way to solve your
problems is to help someone else.

Confusion knits Emma’s brows at Theo’s correction. He

looks at her when he finishes speaking before he continues.

THEO
I don’t really know what he means,
but it sounds good. He says a lot
of good things, but maybe that’s
because he’s old. Really old.

Emma’s confusion disperses a bit as she chuckles at Theo’s

comment. There are still traces of thought on her face as
something about the uncle seems familiar.

Theo looks away and tries to hide a small smile. He

straightens a bit, bringing his shoulders to his ears and
still kicking his legs.

THEO
(scrunching his nose in disgust)
He drinks a lot of tea, too, but I
don’t know why. I tried tea
before, and it was gross! Blegh!

Emma laughs more at this. Theo’s smile grows larger as he

kicks his legs a little harder and looks away again. The
soles of his shoes are weathered, bearing little to no
tread.

The two settle into silence.

Beat.

Emma pulls out her phone and CLICKS the screen to life to
check the time.

EMMA
Bus should be here soon.

She looks to Theo as he checks his watch. She notices the

graphics on the band, faded in areas. Her brows cinch
together and her shoulders slump as she realizes the uncle
Theo described was IROH from AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER.

She looks back toward her phone, staring more at the ground
beyond it instead.

Beat.

Beat.
The RUMBLING and SIGHING of the approaching bus comes from
O.S. at first. Then, the bus approaches, the brakes
SQUEALING a bit as it comes to a stop before the vestibule.

Theo is standing and slinging his faded backpack on his

small frame. His coat material SWISHES against itself. He
walks toward the vehicle as the doors swing open.

Emma watches as he climbs the steps. He stops at the

landing momentarily and looks back at her.

Half beat.

Theo continues down the aisle of the bus.

The BUS DRIVER (50-ish y.o., weary) looks on as Theo finds

a seat on the vehicle. He then looks at Emma, still
sitting on the bench under the vestibule. He lifts his
eyebrows at her.

Emma grinds the heel of her shoe into the sidewalk and
bites the inside of her lip.

The driver moves to pull the lever and shut the doors.

Emma shoots up and takes long strides to get to the

entrance of the public transportation. She keeps her head
down as the driver’s eyes and mouth harden.

CUT TO:
INT. PUBLIC BUS W/PASSENGERS - DAY CONT.'D

She looks around as the bus SIGNALS its shift into gear.
She picks out Theo, sitting in an aisle seat at the far end
of the middle of the bus. Emma catches herself with a
handlebar on the ceiling as the bus jolts forward.

Using the handrail, she guides herself to a seat opposite

of Theo, offering a weak smile when he looks up at her from
his tattered SPIDER-MAN comic book. He hurriedly returns
her grin before going back to reading.

Beat.

Emma looks out the window as Theo continues to read. The

two sit in silence.

FADE OUT: BLACK SCREEN

FADE IN:
INT. PUBLIC BUS W/PASSENGERS - DAY CONT.'D

Theo looks out the window and checks his watch. He closes
his comic and slides back into the pocket of his backpack
sitting in the seat next to him, zipping it closed after.
He stands and slings the shoulder straps over his arms
before the bus fully brakes at the stop.

Emma watches on without as much as a second glance from

Theo. He walks up the aisle, his backpack bouncing with
his steps. He makes the sharp right for the steps and
disappears behind the divider.

Emma turns and looks out the window that had been next to
Theo as the bus pulls away. She watches him walk alone
along the sidewalk in the same direction as the bus, his
hands holding either of the straps on his backpack until
the bus removes him from her field of view.

She flops back in her seat and faces forward, blinking

against the sting of her eyes. She takes a deep breath in
through her nose and slowly releases it through pursed
lips.

Emma pulls her phone from her pocket and unlocks the
screen.

The Planned Parenthood site resumes from before.

She scrolls and taps the screen, then holds the phone to
her ear.

Short beat.

Emma straightens and smooths her hand on her coat as

someone answers the line.

EMMA
(clearing her throat before she speaks)
Ahem — yes, hi. I — I need to
make an appointment, please.

She wipes her cheek as a tear falls from her eye.

CUT TO:
BLACK SCREEN
HUMMING of You are my Sunshine begins again.