As Dancing Is to Walking by Scott Peeler
Interior: LEWIS's room in a seedy motel. He is sitting at the foot
of the bed, facing the television, which blares a reality series. He
is wearing boxers and a wife-beater. Dirty clothes and empty cartons
of take-out food litter the room.
A knock at the door. LEWIS ignores it.
Another knock. LEWIS does not respond.
ANDY (from outside the door): Mr. Lewis? Hello? We spoke on the phone.
I'm with the Times-Tribune.
No response. ANDY knocks again.
Another pause. ANDY knocks again.
LEWIS: What!!!
ANDY: Mr. Lewis. My name's Clark. We spoke on the phone. You said
you were willing to talk to me?
LEWIS: Was I sober when I said it?
ANDY: I I couldn't say. Are you sober now, Mr. Lewis?
LEWIS: Sure.
ANDY: Are you still willing to talk to me? I'd like to hear your
side of the story.
LEWIS hesitates, swears under his breath, then gets up to open the
door. He leaves the chain latched and takes a good look at ANDY.
ANDY: Okay if I come in?
LEWIS shuts the door in ANDY's face. He unlatches the chain and
opens the door. ANDY enters tentatively and surveys the room.
ANDY: Thanks for talking to me.
LEWIS: Uh-huh.
LEWIS mutes the television.
ANDY: As a journalist, I'm here to listen to you and report what you
have to say about your case. More than that, I'm here to help you
get your story out. Is it okay if I record our conversation?
LEWIS stares at ANDY.
ANDY: I'd like to help you.
LEWIS continues to stare at ANDY. He walks around ANDY, observing him.
He gives no indication of an answer. ANDY presses the Record button on
his audio device.
LEWIS: What are you doing?
ANDY: I'm recording our conversation. Is that okay?
LEWIS: No. It's not okay. Turn it off. Turn it off, goddammit!
ANDY: I'm sorry. I'm sorry. (ANDY switches off the recorder.) I
honestly want to tell your story. Will you let me? Will you trust me?
LEWIS: Why should I?
ANDY: I think there are a lot of gray areas in every situation. I
wonder if maybe you were short-changed in the way the media covered
your case.
LEWIS: Hmph.
ANDY: Where are you right now?
LEWIS doesn't answer.
ANDY: How are your accommodations?
LEWIS: Really? How do you think they are? Look around you.
ANDY: I can see they're minimal.
LEWIS doesn't respond.
ANDY: Do you feel isolated here in this motel?
LEWIS: Are you shitting me?
Silence.
LEWIS: You got a first name?
ANDY: It's ANDY.
LEWIS: ANDY.
ANDY and LEWIS take seats across from each other in molded plastic
chairs at a small, cheap table placed next to the window overlooking
the parking lot.
ANDY: Is it OK to record now?
LEWIS: I guess.
ANDY turns on the recorder.
[end of extract]