Waiting For The Bus

EXT. BUS STOP, DAY

SIERRA, a lanky, young woman in a dark gray hoodie, sits waiting for the bus. She has on headphones and occasionally taps her foot to a song we, the audience, are unable to hear.

SIERRA (quietly singing along)
-- an atmospheric man, a shimmering puff of indistinct love--

CECILIA, a heavyset, older Chinese woman in a floral dress approaches. Sierra’s eyes light up with recognition, and she pulls down her headphones as she waves cheerfully. With pursed lips and a visibly sullen expression, Cecilia settles into the opposite end of the seat, ignoring Sierra’s greeting.

SIERRA
Cecilia! How’ve you been?

Cecilia turns slightly toward Sierra, fixing her with a side-eye and not quite facing her.

CECILIA
You know how I’ve been, Sierra.

Sierra’s smile falters, but doesn’t fade.

SIERRA
Oh. Yes, of course. I-- Sorry.

A beat.

SIERRA
Do you want to talk about it?

Another beat.

CECILIA
No.

The pair sit in silence for a while, not facing each other, until Sierra speaks again.

SIERRA
Nice weather today.

Cecilia snorts mirthlessly.


CECILIA
Only seems that way because you’re ignoring Them.

Sierra’s smile falters again. She meets Cecilia’s gaze briefly, then turns back away.

SIERRA
Well, I mean… No use stressing over the storms, right? Not like there’s anything we can do. Why worry?

Cecilia chews her lip, folding her arms.

CECILIA
Some of us aren’t able to stick our heads in the ground, Sierra. Some of us see the aftermath of the storms every day.

A beat.

CECILIA
Some of us have sons out there with Them right now.

Sierra’s eyes widen. Her smile drops for the first time today.

SIERRA
He’s -- Simon’s on the Bastion?

CECILIA
Just got drafted two weeks ago.

SIERRA
Oh, Powers. I’m-- I’m so sorry.

Cecilia scowls.

CECILIA
Save your sympathies for your ilk, kid.

A beat.

CECILIA
...He comes back every weekend. In theory. That should lessen the sting, right? Cause I get to see that he’s okay?

Sierra shifts uncomfortably.

CECILIA
But I don’t. I don’t get to see that. He comes back smiling too widely, blinking too rarely, telling me how glad he is to be able to serve the nation.

Two beats.

CECILIA
The Bastion’s breaking him, kid. As much as They are. And I can’t do shit about it.

Another beat.

CECILIA
He’d been getting better with his… his thing. Didn’t flare up nearly as often. His hand was just returning to normal when we got the letter.

Another beat. Sierra opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again.

CECILIA
The letter. Asshole bureaucrats in their ivory fortresses couldn’t even give us the news in person. They just dropped a piece of paper through our wall, telling us he was especially gifted and they needed every able-bodied Bearer to hold Them back.

So that’s why I worry, Sierra. ‘Cause my special, delicate boy’s getting fed into a meat grinder and I see every weekend how they’re ripping more and more of him away ‘til he’s going to be nothing but a husk with a too-long hand who doesn’t remember how to wear the face of my son, and no matter how many people they do that to, it’s never going to be enough to hold Them back, to stop the next storm.

Cecilia closes her eyes. Sierra taps a finger against the bench quietly, frowning.

CECILIA
When was the last time you saw the stars, Sierra?

A moment later, the bus arrives. Sierra looks up at it and turns to Cecilia.

SIERRA
This is me. I’ll… See you around.

CECILIA
You do that, kid.

Sierra boards the bus. It rises up and skitters away on legs like a centipede’s. Cecilia sighs.