NAILED: The Truth Hurts
NAILED
“The truth hurts.”
BY CALVIN WEDGEFIELD
Dear Reader,
When I was younger, I remember spending hours on the internet reading online screenplays of films that I was not allowed to see in theatres. Screenplays, much like prose, tell stories, and while not a conventional format for fiction writing, I believe the screenplay format makes for a unique and enjoyable reading experience.
“Nailed,” originally written as a screenplay, has been reformatted for Kindle devices, but has kept much of its screenplay qualities. While it was laborious work, I am very proud to present this story as an eBook for your reading pleasure and hope you will find just as much delight and entertainment in reading it as I did creating it.
Sincerely,
Calvin Wedgefield
I
“AT THE END”
AT THE SCENE OF A CRIME AT MOTEL 9:
CAPTION READS: “LATE FRIDAY NIGHT”
This is a cheap, trashy looking, motel with a broken neon sign out front that flickers on and off in the dark, rainy night. Rain water fills up the potholes that are scattered throughout the poorly kept pavement, and all about the scene is a dreadful, somber tone, like that of the scene of a car crash a few hours after the collision.
Police cars surround the shitty motel. Confused and curious witnesses stand outside their rooms in their pajamas looking upon the scene while policemen march back and forth, taking statements and evidence.
There are two cars that have crashed into the ditch in between the parking lot and the road, littering the dead grass with glass shards and pieces of broken metal. There are no bodies in these cars, just some blood stains on the interior and mingled with the broken windows.
Police are investigating another car in the parking lot, taking photos of its tire that has been busted and gone flat.
In the center of the mess and the dread, in the center of what’s left of the wreckage of the evening… is a dead body covered by a black sheet that blows and rattles in the stormy wind.
Someone in a pair of heavy black boots walks across the parking lot towards the body.
The boots belong to Sheriff Jackson, an older man, worn and hardened by years of service, and he glares upon the site with not an ounce of shock or surprise in his expression. He’s seen things like this before: dead bodies, possible killers, the works… and something like this doesn’t shake or excite the old man because he knows what people can be like at their core, and that’s what he’s expecting to deal with tonight.
The Deputy, a younger man with much more enthusiasm approaches him. There’s a lighter expression on the Deputy’s face, a more excitable one. When he speaks he speaks loudly and full of tension, full of the thrill of a crime scene and the thrill of being partly in charge of taking care of it.
SHERIFF JACKSON
(in a deep, harsh, growling voice)
What’s the damage?
DEPUTY
The victim got struck in the head, Sir.
Dead on impact.
The Deputy points to the black sheet that covers the body. Sheriff Jackson gazes at it, his eyebrows furrowed in a look of dissatisfaction, as if the details weren’t gruesome enough for him.
SHERIFF JACKSON
(spits)
With what?
DEPUTY
An old piece of wood with nails in it.
Jackson scans the area. The witnesses, guests of the motel that hang outside their rooms, look away from his scowl uncomfortably. One woman on the second floor even retreats back into her room after making eye contact with the man.
SHERIFF JACKSON
Now why the hell would anyone do that?
DEPUTY
Long story - at least according to those two.
The Deputy points forward, and Sheriff Jackson glares at the two people the Deputy speaks of.
SHERIFF JACKSON
Who are they?
DEPUTY
The only two left standing after it all went down.
SILENCE.
Jackson and the Deputy look forward under the drizzling rain. A gust of wind blows through the parking lot, making the motel guests shake with cold. That same wind nearly tears off the black sheet to reveal the body, but two officers jump on it and keep it down.
Jackson, of course, seems unaffected by the weather. His eyes remain fixed on the two people that are, according to the Deputy, the only ones left standing…
SHERIFF JACKSON
They were involved in this?
DEPUTY
Several folks were apparently.
The whole story is a mess, and I’m
not even sure they know what really
happened.
SHERIFF JACKSON
(spits)
Only one way to find out.
Jackson trudges forward slowly, approaching the two survivors of the night. There’s not an ounce of kindness is his voice when he speaks to them. He projects his voice over the howling wind…
SHERIFF JACKSON
Well… what the hell happened?
BLACK SCREEN.
II
“ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED”
IN LILLY’S AND HARRY’S BEDROOM THE NIGHT BEFORE - THURSDAY NIGHT:
Harry, a nice looking, clean-cut young man in his mid-twenties, is on top of Lilly, a beautiful young woman also in her mid-twenties, with lovely blonde hair in curls. They are naked in bed, “trying” to have sex.
Harry kisses her passionately all over, from her neck to her mouth to her breasts and so on, but Lilly seems to be growing tired of it. She stares up at the ceiling and whatever interest had been in her before was quickly fading with Harry’s obviously artificial passion. He moves up and down her body with a lot of, seemingly forced, excitement.
HARRY
Oh Lilly, you’re so beautiful!
This continues only a few moments longer, and Lilly can barely stand it.
Harry finally stops and sighs. He remains still on top of her, keeping his eyes down in shame.
LILLY
(mockingly)
Oh Harry! You’re so beautiful!
She can’t help but laugh, even though she knows it makes him feel terrible.
Harry of course does not laugh. His face is stoic as he rolls off of her and onto his back.
LILLY
What was up with that?
You’ve never said that during sex.
You’ve never said anything during
sex.
She waits, but he does not answer, and when she finally looks his way she sees how much her mockery has hurt him. She straightens up and corrects her tone, clearing her throat and getting rid of the playful smile from her face.
They stay still in silence.
HARRY
I’m sorry. I just… I guess
I just can’t get my head into it.
LILLY
(under her breath)
Literally.
Harry groans and clasps his hands over his face.
HARRY
That’s not funny.
Lilly rolls her eyes and takes a deep breath. She looks down at her fingers, anything not to look at her fiancé next to her.
LILLY
I know. I’m sorry.
For a moment she is quiet, as a question she has often pondered creeps back into her mind.
LILLY
Is it me?
Harry puts his arm over her and kisses her cheek immediately, a curiously quick gesture, maybe suggesting he’s been preparing for such a question.
HARRY
Of course not, babe!
You’re gorgeous!
It’s me. I just…
I’ve been under a lot of stre
ss you know?
She looks away from him to the wall, something as blank as the passion between them.
LILLY
You’re always under stress.
Harry suddenly explodes with anger and frustration. He moves away from her just as quickly as he had embraced her.
HARRY
How can I not be? The firm might be tanking!
And the wedding is gonna drain
our bank account if the new house doesn’t!
Lilly’s eyes are wide, staring at him, and she’s surprised by his sudden outburst.
LILLY
You’re the one who wanted the big wedding!
They stare at each other, both angry, neither backing down, and finally Harry takes a calming breath and forces himself to relax. They’ve never fought, never truly fought, and he wasn’t about to let it start now.
He rolls onto his back and stares up, speaking in a defeated, softer tone.
HARRY
No, my mother did.
(pause)
It’ll make her happy.
Lilly stares at her engagement ring, which feels tight around her finger.
LILLY
And everyone knows that’s all that matters.
Harry groans. Fighting about what his mother wants is a constant battle for their soon-to-be marriage.
LILLY
Harry, your mom has never even said anything
about a big wedding.
HARRY
It’s what she’s always wanted.
She wanted a big one for my sister but Lisa
had to run off and elope.
So – this is how I’m going to make it up to her.
By having a big wedding.
Lilly finally gets out of bed and puts on her night gown that was on the floor.
LILLY
Can I ask you something personal?
Harry seems nervous.
HARRY
Sure.
LILLY
Has it always been that way?
I mean between you and your mom.
(pause)
It’s our life. Why is her opinion
so important?
For a moment Harry truly ponders the question, wondering if she’s right… that others’ opinions on his life have had too much power in shaping it, but he shrugs it away like he always has.
HARRY
It just – is. I don’t know. She’s always been
there for me, especially when I was a kid.
(pause)
She – she helped me through a lot.
Harry stares into space, remembering something, something he’s not telling Lilly, something she’s not brave enough to dig deeper into him to find out.
She shakes the thought of asking what exactly his mom helped him through and turns away from him.
LILLY
Sometimes it seems like she doesn’t want
us to get married.
HARRY
Why do you say that?
LILLY
She just does. The way she looks at me sometimes.
The way she looks at you.
It’s like she has something to say, only she
won’t say it.
Harry looks away towards the window.
HARRY
She’s fine with it.
(pause)
You know… if you want…
I can try again. I mean – sex.
He looks at Lilly, and she smiles at him kindly, but she knows there’s no more use in trying.
LILLY
Let’s just try tomorrow night.
Harry frowns in disappointment. That’s when the cellphone on his nightstand beeps.
LILLY
Looks like work needs you more anyway.
Harry picks up the phone quickly, excited, and he immediately texts with whoever it is that messaged him.
Lilly looks down. It’s his work – it has to be his work; it’s always his damn work, always messaging him, calling him, pulling him away from their relationship. Lilly always figured they would talk more about important things like Harry’s mother, like Lilly’s feelings about their relationship, but work somehow had a firmer place in Harry’s heart.
LILLY
(groaning in frustration)
R.J. Smith Law Firm. They always win.
She examines herself in a mirror above the dresser.
LILLY
Maybe I should get a job.
It would give me something to do.
HARRY
Lilly you don’t need to work.
I make enough.
LILLY
Right now you do. If the firm goes
under you won’t be employed.
Harry looks away from his phone and into space for a second.
HARRY
I’m – I’m sure things will
work out. The company won’t tank.
I was just being stupid when I said that.
He gets out of bed and goes to the closet where he puts on a work suit.
LILLY
I guess I just need a hobby then.
HARRY
Why not go check on the new house?
They’re really coming along with it.
And those guys are…
(he stares into space, mouth open)
They really know what they’re doing.
The new house – that’s where Harry wants her to go. The new house, a symbol of their commitment to one another, a symbol of their moving forward in life together, and yet the whole time it’s been under construction, they haven’t visited it once together. Lilly only saw it when the foundation had been laid out. Harry had been there off and on. But what if it truly was a symbol of their commitment, or lack thereof, and this thought terrified Lilly. She can feel the pit in her stomach, the chills go across her skin, the sick realization that… she and Harry may not truly be…
She turns around and faces him.
LILLY
Are you - are you happy?
With me?
He smiles and walks to her, as seemingly rehearsed as when he had answered her last question in bed.
HARRY
Of course I am.
He kisses her, a gentle peck on the lips.
His phone beeps. He picks it out of his pocket and looks at the screen, and then he unexpectedly laughs.
Lilly tries to look at the screen.
LILLY
What’s so funny?
He backs away from her and hides the phone. But of course he does this; he always hides what’s on the screen from her.
HARRY
Nothing. Just work stuff.
While finishing getting dressed, he goes to get socks from the dresser against the wall. The top drawer is slightly open, and he sees something in there.
HARRY
Lilly!
From the drawer, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes.
HARRY
What are these?
Lilly groans loudly and rubs the back of her neck.
LILLY
Oh God, Harry.
I haven’t even opened them.
HARRY
Why do you even have them?
LILLY
I don’t know. I guess…
You know, like some people
in this room…
I’ve just been under a lot
of stress.
Harry glares at her.
HARRY
That’s not funny. I actually am under
a lot of stress, Lilly, and -
LILLY
Just put them back. I’m not going to smoke
them. It’s just calming to have them around.
He stares at her in disappointment. This isn’t the first time she’s hidden cigarettes from him, and he knows it won’t be the last.
HARRY
Whatever.
He puts them back in the dresser drawer and puts on his socks.
Lilly watches him.
LILLY
<
br /> I guess I will go check it out.
Harry texts on his phone again and does not look at her when he speaks.
HARRY
Check what out?
LILLY
The new house.
Harry finishes dressing and walks quickly to her. He hugs her, and he’s many times more excited to leave than when he was forcing himself to act passionately on Lilly’s naked body.
It makes her feel ugly – his arms around her, knowing that they’re only there because he feels they should be, not because he wants them there.
HARRY
Sounds great! I gotta run.
(as he leaves)
Quit smoking!