EXT. HOSPITAL- PARKING LOT- DAY
It is sunny. People mill around in summer clothes, hurrying in or out the main doors. As the door opens, a young WOMAN in her early 20s, holding an infant carrier in one arm and a TODDLER'S hand in the other, exits. Her hair is unkempt and her face is puffy and red, like she has been crying. She steps into a waiting taxi with the children. It drives off.
The woman stares at the INFANT in her arms. She cries as the infant looks at her. The toddler is distressed by his mother's tears.
Mommy? Don't cry.
She reassures him with a hug.
It's okay baby. Mommy is okay. She's just
thinking. About what to do.
Where are we going?
Back home, baby, back home.
Is the baby coming too?
EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE- CONTINUOUS
A HUSBAND and his WIFE walk to the car parked in the driveway. It is a typical colonial, on an average tree-lined suburban street. The lawn is manicured well; the yard is landscaped with flowers and shrubs. The couple are in their early 40s. Both are upset. The wife's face is tear-streaked. She sits in the early 80s model white Toyota as he loads luggage in the trunk. He enters the car and they drive away.
INT. AIRPORT- CONTINUOUS
The woman sits on a bench with the toddler and the infant. She fidgets, looking panicky. The airport is busy. All walks of people rush around with their luggage. The woman stands up, carrying the infant, toddler in tow, and finds a nearby pay phone.
I changed my mind. I don't know what to
do. I can't do it.
Where are you?
The airport. But you have to come. I can't
I'll be there as soon as I can.
The woman returns to the bench and sits with the children, exhausted. She puts her head in her hands and waits.
INT. SUBURBAN HOUSE- KITCHEN- LATER THAT DAY
The lights are off. No one is in the small kitchen. The phone rings until the answering machine picks up.
I have very good news for you. Please call
my office immediately. I will try your other
contact numbers on your application. Please
call or come to my office as soon as you get
EXT. AIRPORT - TARMAC- DAY
We watch a plane take off.
EXT. AIRPORT- PARKING LOT- CONTINUOUS
The LAWYER, a middle-aged man in a suit, walks to a waiting car, carrying the infant carrier.
INT. LAWYER'S OFFICE-NIGHT
The office is clean but small. The room is full of bookshelves and file cabinets. A large desk is in the middle of the room. The infant is in the carrier on the desk, asleep. The lawyer sits in a chair, signing papers. There is a KNOCK, followed by the husband and wife entering the room.
I'm glad you finally got my message. I've
been trying to reach you all day. I would
like to introduce you to your daughter.
The wife, tearful, stares lovingly at the baby in the carrier. She cries joyously. Her husband stands behind her, looking lovingly at the baby.
I've waited my whole life for this. We're
naming her Alison.
Congratulations to you both. I'm very happy
it all worked out today.
The wife gently picks up the baby and kisses her forehead. The infant opens her eyes and serenely stares at her parents.
This post was written in response to this week's remembeRED prompt from Write on Edge. Congratulations! Your best selling memoir has just been optioned by a major motion picture studio, and the producers want you advising on the script. Write the opening scene for the movie. Would you begin with a visual montage? Voice-over? Flashback or forward? A conversation? The trick here is to look through a lens. The camera needs to tell the story through visuals, action, dialogue.
I was really excited to do this because I majored in screenwriting in college and haven't written any scripts for over 5 years. Although I took dramatic license to write this, it is a true story. I was adopted as an infant and it almost didn't happen. I know my birth mother almost went home with me and took me to the airport. I also know my parents really couldn't be reached because they were distraught the adoption fell through, so I spent the better part of a day in the lawyer's office. I am really happy I got to write this story of how I came to be.