Lyrics

Tires SCREECH outside. Dude 2 stands up. There's a small crash outside. Yelling VOICE FREEZE! GUNSHOTS The Boy and Dude 2 look at each other ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dude 2 stands and moves to the front door ...wait... ...this doesn't feel right... ...I can't... ...I haven't... The Boy's eyes open. He's on a bus. Like a camp bus. It smells like dirt and pine needles. Dust coats even the smallest corner He looks around and blinks, to make sure he's not dreaming He looks out the window. There's his father. No chauffeur. No limo. Just his dad in a flannel shirt next to a ratty-ass Honda. He's been waiting a long time YOUNG VOICE Hey The Boy looks over to the row across from him. A small, skinny black KID sits there. He wears an orange camp T-shirt. He looks sad THE BOY Hey. What are you doing here? KID I don't get to leave. Not yet THE BOY But your dad's waiting for you. Your life is waiting for you The Kid shrugs KID It's fine Nothing real is ever fine. He's lying. It's not fine How long has he been here? Someone wrote "Roscoe's Wetsuit" in Sharpie bubble letters on the seat back in front of him. Scirbbled next to it, "Jay wuz here!" Someone drew a gun pointing to the word "Jay" The Boy stands and looks the Kid right in the eyes THE BOY Hey. I'm sorry The Kid doesn't smile. But he seems different. Lighter, somehow KID Yeah A moment. The Boy looks out the window past the Kid. It's hard to see in the distance, but a guy and a girl are helping their friend out of a pool Looks like he fell in, or maybe he was pushed. Doesn't really matter He's out now The Boy walks down the aisle to the bus doors. They creep open for him. He grabs the handrail and steps OFF THE BUS