357. The Misdirect - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. MAIN STREET SIDEWALK - DAY


• TIGHE stands in the middle of the sidewalk staring up at a tree growing up out of a planter dividing the path.


• Its slender trunk swirls upwards; its smooth, paper-like bark spiraling up towards the branches.


• With its small, amber-colored leaves, it could have been pulled straight from a Disney film.


• Tighe ponders the tree, slack jawed, not moving a muscle.


• People pass him on the sidewalk, paying little or no attention to him - he is a familiar sight.


• A Group of TEENAGE BOYS walks up to him, all bravado.


• Tighe flinches, pulling away from them, his hands curled at his side, fingers feeling at the air.


• BOY 1
• Hey, what's up in that tree, Tighe? What's so interesting?


• BOY 2
• I betcha he's looking for the shortbus.


• BOY 1
• Is that what you're looking for? Aren't you a little big for the shortbus?


• The boys laugh, attracting DENNIS' attention.


• He makes a beeline for them.


• DENNIS
• Hey, leave him alone, go on!


• The boys walk away, sneering and laughing.


• DENNIS
• Hey Tighe, c'mon man; you've been staring at that tree for as long as I can remember. Maybe it's time to find another tree.


• Tighe barely reacts, blinking fast.


• DENNIS
• You keep this up, people are going to think you're slow.


• He chuckles.


• Tighe's phone suddenly rings, startling both of them--a cheerful, electronic polka.


• He reaches for his pocket, trying to get to it.


• Dennis watches awkwardly, moving in to help, then back away.


• The phone stops ringing.


• Tighe looks at Dennis with his half-empty eyes.


• TIGHE
• Gotta go, gotta go.


• He moves away with surprising speed, his stride jerky, his hands clenching and unclenching, head tilted to the side.


• EXT. TIGHE'S HOUSE - DAY


• The street on which Tighe's house is lined with trees that hide the slightly decrepit state of the neighborhood.


• He rounds the corner, his tilted gait identifying him from a ways off.


• He gets to his house and walks up the sidewalk, fumbling for his keys.


• He finds them and gets the door open, sliding inside.


• INT. TIGHE'S HOUSE: ENTRANCE - DAY


• The house is simple; it doesn't appear to have been re-decorated since the 70s.


• Tighe makes his way down the single hallway and halfway down the hall, his shoulders relax and his eyes clear.


• He shuffles into his bedroom.


• INT. TIGHE'S HOUSE: BEDROOM - DAY


• His fists clench and unclenching, Tighe walks to his desk and sits, carefully.


• The room is filled with beautiful sketches, drawings, and paintings of the tree from every angle imaginable.


• Where there aren't paintings, there are bookshelves packed with classics.


• He leans over, painfully removing colored pencils from a drawer and flips open a sketchpad.


• Reaching over to a cd player perched at the edge of the desk, he punches the play button, and the sounds of Mendelssohn fill the room.


• He smiles, his lips splitting in a strange grimace, then bends over the sketchbook and begins a new version of the tree.


• FADE TO BLACK.