Steps 2,3 & 7.
name of scene
Callandra sweeps up
Randor & Lucas speak in Randor’s tent
The death of Randor
Todd Wakes Up
Todd’s Arrival at School
Waiting to be called on
Callandra speaks for Todd
Todd’s first dream about Callandra
TF & MD enter the school cafeteria, looking for a place to set down.
Confrontation in the school cafeteria.
Georgie, Frank & Russ give Mason a beating.
Georgie keeps Frank & Russ from beating up Mason Dixon again
Mr Franklin dreams about Randor telling him the problems he is generating by spending so much time away from his family.
Randor and Lucas discuss Callendra & the gift that Randor has bought for her to give to her on his return from this mission
Ghost of a girl from Ancient Egypt helps out a lad who is a sophomore in high school in 1960’s suburbia, as told by him to his 13 year old grandson in 2010.
general description of character
Mrs Estelle Jackson
point of scene & outline of scene
character's story line
Has lost his 22 year old brother, Jerry, in Vietnam, and has heard ill words spoken about blacks in his house. He has terrible anger and hurt because of the loss of his brother.
Maybe Georgie helps out with the plot to move the artifact. Think of some characteristic he has that may aid in this.
Perhaps he reads an editorial about the assassination of MLK and why an MLK was needed, & this inspires him to make up with Mason. He thinks about the injustices blacks had to endure, and this strikes a chord with the “injustice” of his brother’s death in Vietnam. Perhaps there is another confrontation & this leads to Georgie’s apology to Mason Dixon.
He also realizes that certain people use the word “Pollack” which of course is a slur against him.
Better yet.. his two buddies Russ and Frank are about to give Mason another beating & Georgie comes along and intervenes.
“What are you, queer for niggers now?”
“I said, leave him the fuck alone.”
Russ & Frank stalk away, unwilling to take on big bad Georgie. And Georgie calls after again, “Don’t use that word around me again.”
That’s when Georgie talks to Mason and explains & apologizes.
draft of scene
The flame’s reflection glimmered pale yellow in Randor’s deep brown eyes as he studied the map laid out on the big wooden table. He took a bite of bread and munched on it as his eyes traced the map’s lines that represented the hilly area around his encampment. The scouts he sent out yesterday should be returning soon, he thought, with a report of the size and location of that band of brigantines he’d been chasing across this desert; the plan was to destroy them in the early post-dawn hours. And Bogdan, that festering thorn in Pharaoh’s side for the last six or seven years, would cease to menace the caravans that supplied the Empire’s life blood.
“General Randor…” called a familiar voice from the outside of the tent.
“Come,” responded Randor, not taking his eyes from the parchment. The guard outside pulled the big flap aside, and Captain Lucas entered, his arms bearing some of General Randor’s battle equipment that he had been repairing.
“Good morning, General,” the big Greek said. “Did you sleep well?”
Todd’s Dream (1st)
The air smelled damp, fishy. As Todd walked along, he could feel sand crunching beneath his bare feet. But this sand…it was coarser than the fine white sands he was used on the beaches near his grandparents’ place in Florida.
He couldn’t place where he was, but he knew it was evening. Todd could see the blue-black sky above, and the stars were plainly visible, sharing the night sky with a bright half-moon that seemed…brighter, closer… than he was used to. He stopped walking, and stared up at the sky. And there was something wrong with the stars, too. The stars were also brighter than they should have been, and he couldn’t make out any of the constellations. The stars are not in the right order, he thought. But then, he had no idea of where he was, or even of what direction he was facing… nevertheless, his years of observing and reading about the night sky… all those hours with his telescopes… told him that this night sky was screwy. That gleaming group of three could be part of Orion, he thought; but it was higher in the sky and way to the right of where it should be. After few puzzled moments, Todd returned his gaze to the front and continued to walk.
On his right, he could hear the lapping of water, as if on a shoreline. But it was not a the familiar sound of the the ocean’s surf, which made a pounding, hissing sound. Even with the receding tide, when everything was gentler, there was still that pounding sound as the unceasing waves rolled over each other and then gave the sandy shore a hissing kiss. The sound that now reached his ears was far gentler, as if the water was licking the shoreline, rather than kissing it.
From the left he heard what sounded like a gentle breeze blowing through large bushes, or perhaps small trees. He heard crickets, but their chirps, like the stars, were somehow not quite what he was used to. The chirping had a peculiar tang to it; different, and to his ear, a little silly sounding.
Then he sensed it.
Something was following him. The hairs on his neck sprang to attention. He shivered but kept moving, not daring to let one step falter. Todd flicked his eyes from the indistinct darkness ahead to the side, hoping and at the same time terrified that he’d catch a glimpse of the shadow on the moon-lit sand of whatever it was that was following him. He saw only the formless dark. He strained his ears, but heard nothing save the unseen water’s gentle lapping, and the wind’s mournful, lonely sigh. And those silly crickets.
A moment later, his thumping heart leaped into his desert-dry mouth; he froze mid-step. He heard…. a voice.
“Don’t be afraid, Todd” said the gentle, distinctly feminine voice. “Please don’t be afraid. There is nothing here to be afraid of.”
The few butterflies in his stomach that had not taken flight now joined the horde that fluttered madly about.
Get a grip. I’m dreaming. This is only a dream, he thought.
“Not exactly,” said the voice.
“You can read my mind?” he said.
“All this is taking place in your mind.”
“Then I’m dreaming. I’m having a dream.”
“Not exactly,” the voice repeated.
“Where is this place?”
“This is my home,” the voice said. “I brought you here, or rather, I brought it here, to you.”
Todd let this sink in, but was still absolutely puzzled.
He wrinkled his nose. The air stinks, he was about to say, but the memory of his mother’s recent discussion about kind and unkind speech kicked in. “It smells… fishy here. Like old fish,” he said.
“You are smelling the Nile River,” his unseen companion said, “the way it once smelled a very long time ago.”
“The Nile River, “ Todd repeated to himself. “ A long time ago.”
“Ancient Egypt,” he managed to whisper.
“My home,” she said.
“So you are the one….”
“Yes, I spoke for you in Mrs Glassman’s class. I will help you write the paper… I know all about the “Life of a Teenager in Ancient Egypt.”
She paused, and Todd knew exactly what was coming next.
“I was a teenager in what is now called Ancient Egypt”
Todd saw Mason just as he was paying for his lunch.
“Looks pretty crowded,” Todd remarked to his friend as Mason came up along side. They both looked around.
“Not much here,” said Todd. “Let’s try The Pit.”
“The Pit,” also known as “The Grease Pit,” was a sort of snack room across the hall from the main lunchroom. It had some machines for dispensing sodas and chips and awful sandwiches, and there were some places to sit. The room was designed for the use of those few students who came after school for help, or for a quiet place to do homework.
“What’s wrong with over there?” Mason Dixon motioned towards a table that had three or four empty chairs in a row.
“What’s wrong with it is the person sitting there,” Todd said, his voice taking on a furtive, hushed quality.
“Georgie Shensky,” Todd said, a slight quiver in his voice. “This guy is bad news. Let’s check out the pit.”
Mason focused in on a rather large fellow hunched over his sandwich and chips. Kind of a big galoot, his semi-open blue and white checked felt shirt exposed an undershirt that had seen better days. His pale chubby face was focused on his sandwich, his chubby jowls stretching and creasing with every movement of his heavy jaws. Every so often thick fingers would lift up a Dorito and shove it into the mush of salami and white bread. The big head was remarkable for the thick waves of golden blonde hair that were just this side of unruly. Mason gestured with his chin.
“There’s four empty seats there. Let’s go over,” Mason Dixon had taken two full steps toward the table before Todd could get his legs to move. In a few seconds the two friends found themselves standing opposite Georgie.
“Howdy,” said Mason Dixon, as he made the necessary moves and scraping sounds to seat himself. “Mind if we join you?”
Incredulity was the best way to describe the expression conveyed by Georgie’s pale blue eyes as they rose up from his brown bag and glanced at Todd, and then rested on Mason as he sat down. Todd was still standing when Georgie said, “They’re taken.”
Mason glanced swiftly at the empty chairs on his side of the table, as well as the ones on either side of Georgie. “All of them?” Mason asked, as he took out his own sandwich and chips., “Crap, I forget to get milk. I’ll be right back,” said he as he gracefully rose from the metal folding chair and headed over to the milk machine. Georgie’s eyes followed Mason till he was about halfway to the milk machine. Then he turned a distinctly unfriendly gaze to Todd.
“Friend of yours, Frankfooter?” Georgie asked, emphasizing the use of a nickname that Todd loathed. As what usually happened at dramatic junctures in Todd’s life, body seemed to abandon him.