Terminal Lassitudinous

EXT. CLUTTERED GARDEN - AFTERNOON

A disheveled lanky young man, CALVERO, sits on a low box in a garden, his arms extended he leans back on a large rock and looks longingly at the broken and battered barrows, spades, and rakes that lay amongst the wild and untended flowers. He pulls a cigarette from a pack and realizing it is now empty crumples it up and tosses it away amongst the scraggly bushes. He places the cigarette on his lip. His brown scrunches up as he searches fruitlessly for a lighter.

The bushes rustle. A shadow crosses him. He raises an eyebrow to the unseen intruder.

CALVERO:
Who goes there?

From the bushes a chuckle, and outsteps a shorter stockier young man of about CALVERO's age, MASON.

CALVERO:
Mason?

MASON:
Cal.

CAL goes to stand up but before he can MASON has already plopped down on the ground next to him.

MASON:
How goes old friend?

CALVERO:
Good Mase, but where the hell have you been?

MASON:
Dead.

CALVERO:
Seriously Mase, it's been three years.

MASON:
Then how about you quit bugging me and let me bum one of those cigs?

CALVERO:
All out pal.

MASON waits expectantly.

CALVERO:
Oh.

CALVERO pulls a knife from his pocket and slices the cigarette neatly in half, he hands his friend half.

MASON:
Thank you much.

CALVERO:
So?

MASON:
So?

CALVERO:
Where the hell have you been? I've been looking for you for three years, your mom and sis have been worried half to death.

MASON:
No, I think not.

CALVERO:
What?

MASON:
I told you already Cal. I've been dead.

CALVERO:
I never did understand how you could disappear so soon after your pa passed, leaving your ma and Sally on their own. Didn't sit right with folks around here either you abandoning them like that. I reckoned you had your reasons though, looked out for them the best I could. Not half as good as having you there I figure.

MASON:
Reckon not.

CALVERO:
That's it, that's all I get? Reckon not? Hey, wait, do your ma and Sally know you're back?

MASON:
Nope.

CALVERO gets to his feet.

CALVERO:
Well what the hell is wrong with you, we should get over there, right now.

MASON:
Can't.

CALVERO looks dumbfounded, for a second he paces back and forth staring down at his friend holding his half cigarette in his hand. When he stops pacing he raises his half cigarette to his mouth, only to notice it still is not lit.

CALVERO:
Well then I'm going to tell them.

MASON:
No you aren't.

CALVERO:
What? Are you going to stop me?

MASON stands up.

MASON:
Couldn't stop you if I wanted Cal, I'm dead.

CALVERO:
Stop saying that. Just stop it. You're not dead. You never died.

MASON:
I did.

CALVERO:
And what, you came back?

MASON:
Nope...and neither did you Cal.

CALVERO:
What? What did you say?

MASON:
We left on a Tuesday afternoon in April. It was warm and muggy and the air was so thick with horseflies that you could just pull 'em down with your barehand. There was me, you, Tommy, Hal, Aaron, Steck, and little Dorsey from over the hill. We were rolling down the stretch in the back of the truck when the driver didn't judge his turn quite right and the lot of us ended up in a drainage ditch on the side of the road with the truck all a fire on top of us. Tommy, Hal, Aaron, Steck, and little Dorsey from over the hill all got burned up. So did you. And so did I. Been dead three years today Cal, 'bout time you started acting like it. That's all I came to say. Thanks for the smoke.

CALVERO stares coldly at the ground, and pulls the cigarette from his mouth as MASON turns and begins to walk away.

CALVERO:
Hey Mase?

MASON:
Yeah Cal?

CALVERO gestures with his cigarette.

CALVERO:
You got a light?