SOBRIETY TEST

A short script

By Garrett Gilchrist

INT - BILLIARDS ROOM - EVENING

This is a furnished basement of the sort where for too many years the upper floors of

a house have been ruled for too many years by a wife, and the man rebels by setting up

darts and billiards and dark wood panelling all over the basement, where he then spends

a good portion of his life. MR. REDDEN, fifty-five with a full head of greyish-white

hair and wearing black pants, a grey shirt and a red sweater, sits up, hawklike, in a

red leather easy chair, directly across from ROY MACNEICE, who is twenty-two and looking

very nervous.

MR. REDDEN

She told you that, did she?

ROY

She told me you were a police officer, yes.

MR. REDDEN

Did she tell you I spent twenty-six years on the force? I was a sergeant,

did she tell you that?

ROY

She's always spoken very highly of you. She's a fine young lady. You

should be proud of her.

MR. REDDEN

I am proud of her. She's my daughter. What, are you saying I'm not

proud enough of my own daughter?

ROY

No, I'm sure you're very proud of her. Plenty proud. I was just

saying you should be.

MR. REDDEN

I am.

ROY

I know.

MR. REDDEN

Are you sure you don't want a drink?

ROY

No, I don't drink, like I said.

MR. REDDEN

My father used to say, never trust a man who doesn't drink.

ROY

Well, I mean I'll have a drink with you if you like.

MR. REDDEN

I didn't get along with my father.

ROY

Oh. I'm sorry.

MR. REDDEN

Don't say that, you're not sorry. You weren't even born yet, it didn't

have anything to do with you, so how can you be sorry for it?

ROY

You're right. I'm sorry, I'm not sorry. I'm sorry.

MR. REDDEN

I'm going to pour myself a drink.

MR. REDDEN gets up from his chair and opens up a mini-fridge in the corner. He takes

a cold bottle of whiskey out of it and pours two fingers' worth into a glass on top

of the fridge.

MR. REDDEN (cont.)

Are you sure you don't want one?

ROY

That's all right, I've had five already.

MR. REDDEN

You're drunk, is that what you're saying? You're taking out my daughter

and you're drunk?

Pause.

MR. REDDEN (cont.)

I don't believe you. You don't look drunk. Let me smell your breath.

MR. REDDEN walks over to ROY and moves his head in uncomfortably close to Roy's,

staring into his eyes.

MR. REDDEN (cont.)

Come on boy, open your mouth and breathe.

Pause. Roy opens his mouth and lets out a hoarse little breath.

MR. REDDEN (cont.)

No, no, you're definitely not drunk. And that's worse than being drunk,

that means you're a liar.

ROY

No, I'm drunk, I'm very drunk right now, I swear it!

MR. REDDEN

Stand up.

ROY stands up, nervously.

MR. REDDEN (cont.)

Now walk.

ROY walks somewhat robotically back and forth across the room.

MR. REDDEN (cont.)

Faster!

ROY walks faster, his arms flailing a bit.

MR. REDDEN (cont.)

Now STOP!

ROY stops in mid-stride, balancing on one leg for a second uneasily, before dropping

to both feet and struggling to regain some sort of balance.

MR. REDDEN (cont.)

All right, you are drunk. But you hide it well. Either that or you

can really hold your liquor.

ROY

I can't, believe me. Two drinks and I'm gone.

MR. REDDEN

You were acting fairly normally back there.

ROY points to his upper back with his right hand.

ROY

It's all in the shoulders. Your normal tendency when you're drunk

is to go all loose and your back droops down so when I've had a few

drinks I just concentrate on keeping my shoulders tense.

MR. REDDEN

Have you been getting my daughter drunk?

ROY

No, no, she didn't know about this. I've never gotten drunk with her.

Well, I did, once. But we didn't have sex. We just fooled around a bit.

And then I took her home. And we fooled around a bit more because she

said you were upstairs sleeping and I should probably stop talking

right now.

MR. REDDEN

Good instinct. Slow to kick in, though. Drink will do that to you.

Pause.

MR. REDDEN (cont.)

What are your intentions with my daughter?

ROY

I don't have any intentions, really!

MR. REDDEN

Intentions, boy, plans, direction. You have no direction in life?

You don't know where you're leading my daughter? What are you getting

her into?

ROY

That's not what I meant.

MR. REDDEN

But you said it.

ROY

No I didn't. You're putting words into my mouth! You're trying to trick

me, and that's a rotten thing to do. I shouldn't be saying this because

I'm deathly afraid of you and you're the one person in the world I want

to impress most right now but I'll say it because I'm drunk and I'm not

thinking straight and I got drunk because of you anyway, because I was

so afraid of you I needed a drink to steady my nerves, and then another,

and another, and another, and another, and another, and then it was

time to go and I've forgotten what I was going to say but I love your

daughter. I love her dearly. I love her more than anything else in the

world and I'd never want anything bad to happen to her and I treat her

better than I treat myself, as should be pretty obvious by now, and

normally I can't think of anything else but her but right now all I

can think about is that gun you've got holstered underneath your

sweater. Yes, I can see it, don't worry, you made it obvious enough.

MR. REDDEN

Do you want me to take it out?

ROY

I don't know. I don't care what I want.

Pause. MR. REDDEN lifts up his sweater showing the grey dress shirt underneath, and the

tan leather holster holding his black police-issue revolver. He puts his hands on the

revolver and removes it, slowly. He holds the revolver confidently in his right hand and

gently pulls his sweater back down with his left. He takes two slow steps toward ROY,

who is sweating now. He stops right in front of ROY and stares at him. Then he lifts

up the gun and touches it to ROY's forehead.

Pause.

MR. REDDEN

BANG !

ROY falls down to the ground in terror, covering his ears and closing his eyes. He

lies down on the ground quivering, a nervous wreck.

MR. REDDEN laughs, a hoarse little laugh like he doesn't laugh very often.

CLAIRE REDDEN, twenty-one years old, enters the room now, walking down the stairs

hesitantly, beautifully radiant in a blue silk dress.

CLAIRE

Daddy? What are you doing with Roy?

MR. REDDEN

Oh, nothing sweetie. We were just playing, weren't we Roy?

ROY looks up, still shaking on the ground.

CLAIRE

Now daddy, don't break this one like you broke all the others.

MR. REDDEN

Gimme a kiss.

MR. REDDEN kisses CLAIRE on the cheek. ROY gets up uneasily, shaking involuntarily

from fear and drink.

MR. REDDEN (cont.)

Don't worry sweetie. He's all yours.

CLAIRE

Did he pass the test then?

MR. REDDEN laughs. CLAIRE takes ROY's hand and leads him up the stairs.

CLAIRE (cont., to ROY)

Don't worry about daddy, Roy. He talks tough, but on the inside he's

a big stuffed watermelon.

CLAIRE is leading ROY out the door when ROY takes one last look back at MR. REDDEN.

MR. REDDEN's face is deathly serious. He is grinding a fist into his palm, as a sort

of warning.

ROY's face twitches. He nods, and then turns back around and walks arm in arm with

CLAIRE out the door.