69. Dialog - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. THE PORPOISE AND THE BEE BOOKSHOP - DAY


• REGGIE sits in one of the large, dark blue chairs scattered in between the tall shelves of the bookstore.


• He is enmeshed in a large winter jacket, and unruly tufts of hair poke out from underneath his knit cap.


• His feet rest comfortable on a small duffel bag at his feet.


• The screenplay for Kevin Smith's "Clerks" lies open on his lap. He stares down at it, intent on the words.


• AMY steps down from one of the rolling ladders near Reggie.


• Her rows of bracelets click as she lets go of the last rung.


• She touches the pendant hanging around her neck, and readjusts the kerchief around her head, which is doing a decent job keeping her unruly curls in place.


• She readjusts her name tag and stops, stealing a glance at Reggie's book.


• Reggie looks up from his reading.


• REGGIE
• Hey Ames.


• AMY
• What's up Reg?


• REGGIE
• Not a whole lot, just trying to wrap my head around Clerks.


• AMY
• Oh yeah? Still trying eh? Good luck.


• REGGIE
• Thanks. Hey, I have a somewhat random question.


• AMY
• Yeah?


• REGGIE
• If you had just a few minutes to live, what would you do? I mean, how'd you spend it?


• AMY
• Ah, one of those questions. Gun to my head? Pun intended. Hmmm. I think...I think I'd find someone to have a good conversation with...and then have it of course.


• REGGIE
• Well, why don't we do that now?


• AMY
• What, do you know something I don't? You're not psychic are you?


• REGGIE
• No, no.


• She sits in the empty chair next to him.


• AMY
• Ok then.


• She looks around, the store is filling up but the other workers seem to have it under control.


• REGGIE
• So what do you mean by a good conversation?


• AMY
• It depends...in this case, in "my last conversation on earth," I don't want deep. Don't get me wrong, I love going really deep, philosophizing, but these will be the last thing I say. I want to embrace the simple, remember good moments.


• REGGIE
• A good moment? Like?


• AMY
• I think, well, there's this moment. Wow, I haven't thought of this in years, it's one of those things that just disappears, and then pops up, one day, today.


• REGGIE
• Those are good moments.


• REGGIE
• Yeah. I was seven, and I was running through a field with this kid. I don't remember his name. How do people writing memoirs manage to remember the names of people they knew when they were three? No clue. But yeah, no name, but I can remember his face. He had this beautiful bronze skin, and curls, tumbling down all over the place. I thought he was gorgeous. And we went chasing after these butterflies, these wonderful blue and gold butterflies, and as I was running with him, I remember thinking that this is what it must be to be in love. Makes me wish I could go back there.


• Reggie studies her face.


• She looks up, shy.


• AMY
• Thank you.


• REGGIE
• I'm sorry.


• AMY
• What? Why?


• Reggie looks at his watch. It's 4:30. The store has gotten crowded.


• He looks at her, and she continues to stare at him, waiting.


• He opens his jacket, and pulls out a controller hooked to cables that run into the jacket and around his chest.


• He nods to her and presses the button at the top of the controller.
  


• There is a pause, and then a deafening explosion.


• FADE TO BLACK.