DEE AND UMBRELLA

EXT: CITY STREET – EVENING

The sun is setting behind the clouds. DEE (20) a quiet hipster-type with chunky glasses and a scarf walks down a misty street in a bad neighborhood. A compact umbrella swings loosely from her wrist by a strap. In her other hand, she holds a cup of coffee.

Two thugs block the end of the street. Dee sees them and turns around, but there are two more approaching from behind. One is SNAKE, their leader.

SNAKE You lost, sweetheart?

Dee considers them for a moment. Takes a long sip of her coffee. Then-

-BAM! She hurls the hot coffee in Snake’s face. He stumbles back, howling. TALL THUG roars and runs at Dee.

She lets the strap of the umbrella fall into her hand and whips it at him like a chain mace. It cracks into his neck and Dee is already whirling into the SHORT THUG. He goes to punch her but she cracks the umbrella down on his wrist.

HUGE THUG tries to sneak up on her as she umbrella-whips his friends, but she spins around and jabs the button on the umbrella handle. The umbrella doesn’t deploy fully–it’s still strapped shut. But it pops out like a rock-em sock-em robot fist and hits him wear it counts. He lets out a squeak and topples.

Dee jams her umbrella back into it’s compact position and tucks it under her arm like a nunchaku, waiting. Snake and thugs circle Dee, wary now. She doesn’t move. In fact, she seems completely relaxed. She still holds her half-full coffee cup in her other hand.

Snake sneers.

SNAKE Think you’re some kinda tough guy, huh? Think you’re freaking Lucy Liu?

Dee smiles.

Short Thug rushes her, and she flicks the umbrella out in a fierce uppercut to his jaw. He rocks back as Tall Thug grabs the trailing end of Dee’s scarf.

Dee chokes for a moment then spins free, grabs the other end and yanks, pulling Tall Thug forward into another umbrella uppercut. Huge Thug tries to surprise her again but she throws her scarf in his face to blind him and hits him hard enough to knock him out.

After a few moments, Snake is the only one standing. Dee tucks her umbrella under her arm again. What Snake doesn’t see is that she undid the velcro holding it shut.

Snake, furious, pulls out a knife. Lunges at Dee.

The umbrella whips out and pops open and the knife stabs uselessly through the colorful nylon. Dee spins the umbrella and the knife is flicked out of Snake’s hand.

Dee collapses the umbrella.

While Snake is still stunned, she uses the half-opened umbrella to scoop up her scarf. With a grin, she snaps it like a whip.

Snake yelps.

SNAKE Stop, okay? Stop!

DEE Three dollars.

SNAKE What?

DEE Well, I poured half my coffee on your face. I figure you owe me.

Trembling, Snake pulls out three dollars.

DEE Thanks, sweetheart.

Dee snaps the umbrella open just as it begins to rain and walks away, sipping what’s left of her coffee.

FADE OUT.

CHARLOTTE DOYLE

EXT: DOCKS-DAY

Pan over a romantic dockside view. White seagulls glide on the wind and ships float into the harbor. Everything is touched with sunlight, glistening and beautiful.

Abrupt cut down to APRIL (20) glaring up at a crab boat Captain (ISAAC, 60). They’re surrounded by fly-covered boxes of dead crabs.

APRIL I want a job.

Isaac sizes April up. She’s a stringy redhead who barely comes up to his chest. Her arms are crossed and her jaw juts in defiance.

ISAAC Well, there might be an opening in the dock manager’s office.

APRIL I want a job on a boat.

He watches her for a moment, wearily. He’s seen this before.

ISAAC Lemme guess. Boyfriend dumped you and now you’re looking for some big dramatic life change.

APRIL I don’t have a boyfriend.

ISAAC You wouldn’t if he dumped you.

APRIL There’s no boyfriend. Just a college degree that no one seems to give a crap about.

ISAAC “A crap?” What, that’s the strongest language you could come up with? How do you expect to survive on a ship?

April sulks.

ISAAC (CONT’D) You’re an English major too, I’ll bet.

April is silent. He’s right.

ISAAC (CONT’D) Freaking Melville. Or was it Stevenson?

APRIL Avi. Charlotte Doyle.

ISAAC That’s a new one.

APRIL “Freaking” is pretty tame too.

ISAAC I’m being polite.

APRIL (suddenly eager) See? I could have a positive effect on you.

ISAAC I don’t need anyone affecting me. I’m fine the way I am.

APRIL And I respect that.

ISAAC Good.

APRIL So I’m hired?

ISAAC Who said that? Look, sweetheart-

APRIL My name is April. And don’t talk down to me.

ISAAC Fine. April. Crabbing isn’t some character-building experience. It’s cold and wet and miserable. You’l spend the first week seasick and falling over all the time.

APRIL I’ll get sea-legs.

ISAAC See, that’s the problem with your generation. You think getting something’s as easy as buying it from the Apple store.

APRIL And the problem with your generation is that you think you wouldn’t be exactly like us if the world kept screwing you over.

ISAAC I lived through the Depression. Vietnam.

APRIL Big whoop. I lived through the Recession, the War on Terror, mandatory pat-downs and the housing crisis. Oh, but right, I’m sorry. I’m just a spoiled little Millennial.

She pauses, in a huff.

APRIL (CONT’D) Which is a stupid word, by the way.

ISAAC Hey, I didn’t use it.

APRIL Give me a job.

ISAAC You’d blow away in a light breeze, kid.

APRIL I’ll hold onto something.

ISAAC You couldn’t pull in nets, carry crates.

APRIL I’ll work up to it.

ISAAC There’s no privacy.

APRIL Three brothers at home.

ISAAC You could die.

APRIL I could get hit by a car crossing the street. Give me a job.

Isaac sighs. Runs a hand through his hair. Glances back at his ship. Members of his crew are leaning over the sides, watching the confrontation. He makes a cutting motion across his neck with his hand and they make a big show of returning to work.

ISAAC Look, kid, I like you. But I can’t give you a job.

He returns to the ship, glancing back at April once. She stands alone in the shipyard, a lost child. When she senses his eyes on her, she pulls an iPod out of her pocket and waves it at him cheekily before jamming her earbuds in and stalking away.