LIGHTS UP
We open in a plain, cinderblock-walled church Sunday School classroom on a winter morning in 1969.
A few faded religious posters hang askew on the walls, the way you’d expect teenage boys to hang posters when they’d probably rather be doing something else. There’s Jesus with some kids, a flaming sword, a cross. The word “TRUTH” is spelled out in blocky letters on a chalkboard. Typical 1960s religious ephemera.
We see shelves of dusty Bibles, stacks of devotionals, a faded American flag, etc. The light is cool and dim, seeping in through high, frosted windows, enough to reveal we’re in a church basement classroom. A single, light bulb burns steadily, hanging from the ceiling by a cord.
The snowstorm has left the building nearly deserted. Wooden chairs are overturned; some on their backs, others on their sides. At the center of the room, a 14-year-old boy, RICHARD WAYNE BELLECOURT, JR., in a green camouflage shirt and jeans, sits cross-legged on the floor, hunched over. A hunting knife gleams in his hand as he scrapes old gum from the undersides of the chairs. He doesn’t look up when…
The door creaks open.
WALLACE WEBB enters. He is 78 and carries a leather bound King James Version Bible under his arm. He removes his heavy coat and hat. Underneath: a light gray suit with a scarlet red tie, thick black-frame glasses, tightly parted hair. He stamps snow off his boots and surveys the room. He expected to teach a Sunday School lesson.
He wasn’t expecting this.
MR. WEBB
Well now… ain’t that a sight! Thought I was walkin’ into Sunday School, but here I am in a young carpenter’s workshop.
RICKY
Without looking up
Somebody oughta clean under these seats once in a while. Just ‘cause you can’t see it, don’t mean they ain’t filthy.
MR. WEBB
I reckon so. But I can’t say I ever seen a boy clean the gum off with a Buck knife. (Squints slightly) That a 110?
RICKY
Shrugs
Dunno. It was my daddy’s. Give it to me on my 13th birthday last year. Said he got it from his daddy.
MR. WEBB
Stepping further in, draping his coat over a chair while watching RICKY.
You new to the class?
RICKY
Nah.
Another pause. RICKY flips a chair, starts on another piece of gum.
MR. WEBB
Hmph. You don’t say.
Leans against the doorframe, trying to place RICKY.
No, you look familiar. I’ve seen your face somewhere before.
RICKY
I used to come here. Long time ago.
MR. WEBB
Raising an eyebrow
Used to, huh? I reckon you missed more than a few Sundays.
RICKY
Guess I got pretty busy.
MR. WEBB
Chuckles
Can’t say I blame ya. Life does that. Lotta snow out there, eh? Rare for Tennessee. Practically shut the church down. Didn’t expect anyone to show up.
Looks like it’s just you and me this morning.
I live across the street, so I always make it. Walk over, even when I probably shouldn’t. Been teaching every Sunday and Wednesday for… Lordy mercy, almost sixty years. I’m here near every time the doors open. Sometimes I’m the one openin’ the doors. (Realizes) How’d you get in?
RICKY
Gestures with the knife.
It was open… over there.
MR. WEBB
(Suspicious) Uh huh.
RICKY continues quietly working with his knife.
You live around here, son?
RICKY
Not too far.
MR. WEBB
Well, I’m Mr. Webb. Deacon here at Apple Orchard First Baptist.
RICKY
I know who ya are.
MR.WEBB
Thrown a little
Do ya now? Don’t think I caught your name.
RICKY
That’s ‘cause I never give it to you.
There is an uncomfortable pause, then:
It’s Ricky.
MR. WEBB
Lets the name roll around in his head
Ricky… Say, you… you wouldn’t happen to be… Ricky Bellecourt, would ya?
RICKY
Finally looks up
I would happen to be him. Lucky me.
MR. WEBB exhales slowly. The recognition lands like a weight.
MR. WEBB
Well, I’ll be. That’s why you look familiar. Ain’t seen you since you were no bigger than a tater bug. Last I heard, you and your family— Er… your father—
RICKY
Cuts him off
Is dead.
He tosses the chair aside and pulls another into place. MR. WEBB stands still, trying to process it all.
MR. WEBB
I remember now. Late summer, wasn’t it? I read he took his own— I mean… I… I was real sorry. They say your daddy was a good man.
RICKY
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. All I know is he ain’t here no more.
MR. WEBB
Well. It sure was a shame. We all have our struggles, don’t we?
He pulls a loose string from his jacket.
He’s with Jesus now. You know that, don’t you, Ricky? You ever think about what comes after this life?
RICKY
Don’t matter.
MR. WEBB
Oh, it sure does! You don’t want to play around with your eternal soul. Eternity means forever, son. Once you’re there… there ain’t no way out.
RICKY
You believe that crap? If you’re good, you go to heaven?
MR. WEBB
I sure do! I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. That’s what the good book says. Those who believe in Jesus Christ are promised eternal life. It’s that simple.
RICKY
Simple. Maybe it is simple. But I don’t get it.
MR. WEBB
Well, the Lord’s ways are not ours to understand.
RICKY
If you don’t understand it, how do you teach it? Sixty years teaching here and you still don’t understand it?
MR. WEBB
See? You’re a questioner! That’s good. Questions make a man’s faith strong. Jesus said, “Ask and it shall be given you; seek and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you…”
RICKY knocks slowly on a chair. MR. WEBB laughs.
If only it was that easy. Sometimes you gotta knock for years!
MR. WEBB scans the room for things to tidy up. He begins picking up the chairs and turning them right side up.
Whoo! I think they forgot to turn the heat on in the building last night. I should have brought in a thermos of hot coffee! You know, I just read they’re sellin’ a machine now— you push a button and it makes your coffee. Can you imagine that? Jesus turned water into wine, now we’re pushin’ buttons to get our coffee. I don’t know about folks who can’t wait the regular amount of time for a pot to brew on the stove. Can’t imagine a world in that much of a hurry for a cup of coffee. (Blows warm air into his hands) Maybe the snow tripped a breaker. I’d better go upstairs to check.
RICKY
I don’t think you should leave the room.
MR. WEBB
Taken aback
Pardon?
RICKY
I think you should sit down in that chair and start teaching this class.