A hand in a black woolen glove picks up a golf ball from the sand. We see an old man from behind, walking with some problems, both his hands in black thick gloves.
WES is lying in his bed watching TV, zapping with the remote control.
VOICE FROM TV: ... Americans died during a murder suicide...
Cut to the TV screen showing news (?)
TV: 1984 -- 88 followers of a controversial religious sect died from a disease. Their leader believed they could be cured by prayer. 1989 -- A religious fundamentalist Jeffrey Lengrin(?) brutally killed 5 members of his church in a sacrifice ceremony (scenes from the Courthouse) He believed this will lead his followers to the Promised Land....
WES changes the channel and now there is an old sitcom (cannot identify it: looks like fifties stuff to me) with a couple having a little argue.
HUSBAND: Don't you remember? The license was in the
trunk and the trunk disappeared in Vancouver. But I'll get you
a duplicate.
WIFE: The license is evidence we are married.
HUSBAND: Look Gracie...
WIFE: Yeah, Gracie, everybody calls me Gracie...
HUSBAND: What's wrong with that?
WIFE: If we were really married they would call me Mrs.
Byrd's(?)...
The old man with gloves (MIES) appears, approaches the bed, bows
to kiss WES' head and sits down beside, also watching the program.
WES: How're you doing, dad?
MIES: (smiling) I'm fine. How are you?
WES: I'm okay.
MIES: Where is Karen?
WES: She stepped out.
Both are staring at the TV as the show continues.
MIES: Shopping?
WES: Yeah... something like that... Are you hungry?
MIES: No, I've got a sandwich.
He pulls an envelope from his pocket.
MIES: (cont.) My favorite show. Do you like it?
WES: No.
WES turns the TV off, sits up and takes the envelope.
WES: What is this? Insurance?
MIES: It's really great, costs nothing. It's for the whole
world.
WES: I don't need it.
MIES: Wes, you cant live without insurance...
WES: I DON'T NEED IT. When do you stop to (bring?) me those
insurances?
MIES takes the envelope and hides it under WES' pillow. He looks at the sky.
MIES: A sandstorm is coming...
WES: I don't think so. Why?
MIES: I feel it in my bones.
WES: Do the gloves help?
MIES: A little. Nothing really helps.
He pulls a mickey out of his pocket and takes a swallow.
WES: Quit drinking might help.
MIES: I did quit. It's my cough syrup.
WES: Yeah...
MIES: You don't even know how I miss your mother. Haven't
you been to the grave?
Three man appear at the horizon. They have workers overalls on, one of them is black. They are J.C., TIM and MICK
WES: (to MIES) I haven_t. Being busy. I'll go tomorrow, ok?
WES stays in the kitchen reading a newspaper, The three men come closer.
J.C.: (waving) Hi, Wes!
WES: Hi, guys, how's the work?
TIM: It's awful. Damn sand, we needed hours to clean the
motor. And then we had to clean the oil. What's going on, don't
you watch the game?
The men make themselves at home. One turns on the TV.
WES: No... my father is visiting me.
TIM: You're kidding. I hoped you'd tell us the score.
The men watch the baseball game, making comments. WES is playing with the golf-club again, MIES watching him, but nobody is really paying attention to anybody else.
J.C.: Hey Wes, you got a beer?
WES: Yes, sure...
WES wants to go to the fridge.
J.C.: (stopping WES) It's all right, I'll get it myself.
He walks to the fridges. Opens one, then the other, looks inside.
J.C.: Hey, Wes there is no beer here!
WES: I thought I've got some... Sorry.
MICK: Hey, it's a home run now...
J.C.: (from the fridge) You don't even have a coke.
He reaches into the fridge, takes something out.
J.C.: What's that? Bottom milk? Hey guys come and see
what he's got in his fridge!
MICK: (irritated, coming closer) What!?
J.C.: Nothing.
TIM: (rising from his chair) What do you mean with "nothing"?
He goes to the fridge too.
J.C.: A low fat yogurt Dannon. Sand...
TIM: (looking inside) I don't believe it! Some lemon stuff...
He's nuts!
MICK: It's all her fault.
MIES stands up preparing to leave.
MIES: I'll be going, son.
WES: Why the hurry?
MIES: It's time for me. Give my regards to Karen.
WES: Of course, dad. Thanks for coming.
WES gives Mies a hug.
MIES: (waving to the men at the fridge) Bye!
J.C.: (cont.) ... she made a noodle out of him, threw him
into the soup and ate him alive.
MICK: It looks like that.
MICK: I was young...
WES: (approaching them) Hey, what's up?
He closes the fridge.
J.C.: We are just discussing your diet. She makes you
eat this stuff?
WES: Don't you have something better to talk about?
MICK: Do you allow this, man?
WES: Are you watching the game or what?
J.C.: The game sucks. But your fridge is a blast (laughing)
WES: (angry) I don't need your company.
J.C.: (to WES) Okay, buddy, we're leaving. And you won't
see us in here.
WES: Good.
J.C.: Until you get some beer...
WES: Won't you bring some of your beer next time... prick.
TIM: Did you hear this?
J.C.: Yeah.
TIM: He offended me. You're a witness.
TIM: Sure.
TIM attacks WES. Tries to hit him but the other guys hold him back.
TIM: I'll kill him!
MICK: Cool down, man... Better sing the blues...
They leave. One of them sings the blues a cappella: "I got some sand in my head / I got some sand in my bed / my life is full of troubles..." They go away. MIES is walking away in a different direction, turning back from time to time.
Cut to WES walking alone through the dunes with his golf-club. He pretends to play golf, hitting the sand while the song continues. He doesn't look angry that much, more like resigned.
Cut to WES lying in his bed in the evening, under the dark sky. He cannot sleep, he kneels beside the bed and starts to pray.
WES: (looking up) I can't take it anymore.
Fade out.
Photos ©Propaganda Film
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