by Ginger Voight

Created on: March 30, 2008   Last Updated: May 30, 2011

"For Honor"

Format: Screenplay short

EXT. TRAIN DEPOT - DAY

A train roars past in a blur, while yet another sits idle
by the curb.

An overwhelmed Mom juggles a small child on her hip: a sullen
teenager all in black stands at her side.

MOM
I don't see the train. Do you think
we're late?

The teenage boy, whose stark black hair hangs over his
face, just shrugs.

The child on her hip begins to cry.

MOM
Not now.

She jostles the toddler a bit to soothe her, but it
doesn't work.

MOM
Xavier, I need you to take Ashley to
change her.

He gives her a "get serious" glance before he plops down
onto a bench, his back to the tracks.

Just as she opens her mouth, he takes out an iPod and
turns it full blast. Hidden behind his hair, he launches
into angry, metal air guitar.

She sighs.

MOM
Never mind.

She coos to the child as she hurries back toward the
building.

While Xavier rocks out, a wheelchair rolls toward the
tracks.

The uniformed man in the wheelchair is weathered and old,
but he wears his medals with pride.

His gnarled hand shakes as he reaches for his pack of
cigarettes. Almost instantly he loses his grip and it
falls to the ground.

Xavier pretends not to notice as he continues his
imaginary concert, but after a minute or two of the old
man's attempt to retrieve his smokes, he finally sighs,
takes out his earphone and lends a helping hand.

VETERAN
Thanks, son.

Xavier gives a reluctant nod before he puts his earplug
back in. This doesn't stop the veteran from launching
into a conversation, as if he didn't care if anyone was
listening.

VETERAN
Nasty habit, smoking. I don't
recommend it.

With effort, he lights the cigarette, inhales deeply and
glances off in the distance.

Xavier can't resist.

XAVIER
So why do you smoke?

The old vet laughs.

VETERAN
Son. If Dubya Dubya Two didn't kill
me, I doubt a carton of Camels can do
the trick.

Xavier nods and then goes back to his music. He watches
the man enjoy his cigarette. Pretended not to, he
finally takes notice of how the uniform hangs from the
seat of the chair.

After a bit...

XAVIER
Is that where you lost your legs?

The old vet barely spares him a glance.

VETERAN
Lost a damn sight more than that, I
reckon.

He eyes the boy.

VETERAN
How old are you?

XAVIER
Fifteen.

VETERAN
Hell, I was barely older than that when
I first put on an Army uniform. Made
me feel like a man. Back then it was
about honor. Duty. It was a
privilege. None of us realized how
idealistic we were until we heard those
first bullets buzz past our ears. By
then

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