Ohio Cafe

Ohayo is Japanese for good morning

 

 

GYPSY, is a waitress at Ohio Cafe, the bus station diner.

 

OZ, is a hobo who

 

OKAASAN, the owner, took in.

 

        INT       DINER       KITCHEN EARLY A.M.

 

GYPSY pushes the back door open, hard. She knows someone is sleeping on the back porch.

 

                                  OZ

                   Hey, alright already. Gimme a minute.

 

                                  GYPSY

                   Hurry up, grab a broom, you're burnin'

                   daylight. We're open in 20 minutes.

 

OZ walks in, surprising GYPSY who expected another, older drunk.

 

                                 OZ

                  (hand extended in greeting)

                  Top o' the morning to you Miss ……….?

                                

                                 GYPSY

                  (pushes a broom into his hand)

                  Gypsy. Here. When you're done sweeping,

                  the mop's hanging out back.

 

                                 OZ

                  Yes'm Miss Gypsy, my but that's a pretty

                  name. Friends call me Oz.

 

                                 GYPSY

                              (laughing)

                  Alright, Oswald. Don't get too comfortable.

                  You might've charmed Okaasan, but you slack

                  off and she won't hesitate to kick you to

                  the curb. That'll be damn funny, too.

 

                                 OZ

                  What's with the attitude, sistababe? We

                  gotta work together, can't we get along?

 

                                 GYPSY

                  First of all, I ain't your sister and I

                  sure as hell ain't your babe. You're just

                  another hobo til you show me otherwise.

                  Seriously, get to work.

 

Oz begins sweeping but can't stay quiet for long. Gypsy is seated at a stool, kneading a bowl of biscuit dough with her hands.

 

                                 OZ

                 How long have you been working for,

                 what do you call her, Okaasan?

 

                                GYPSY

                 I lived with my mom next door until

                 Okaasan and Obaasan took me in. A

                 long time, my lifetime.

 

                                OZ

                 Okaasan? Obaasan?

 

                                GYPSY

                Japanese. Okaasan means mom and

                Obaasan means grandma. They are

                strong and kind, the kind of woman

                I want to be. I don't worry about

                you taking advantage of them, cuz

                Okaasan won't let that happen. They'll

                be here any minute. Grab that pot over

                there and dump that bag of potatoes in

                it, fill it with water and put it on the fire.

 

                               OZ

                Yes'm Miss Gypsy. You sure know how

                to talk pretty, but what's in it for

                me, darlin'?

 

Oz swings the broom in her direction, sweeping her peasant skirt up, the bristles lightly scratching her calves. She kicks the broom away.

 

                               GYPSY

                You wanna eat, don'cha? You chop those

                onions over there before Okaasan gets here,

                she might not recognize you for the jerk you

                are right away. She hates cutting onions. Do

                yourself a favor and score some easy points.

 

                               OZ

                Whudda you care? I'm a jerk, right? Why

                would you wanna help me?

 

                              GYPSY

                Old lady saw something in you, so you

                must be capable of being housebroken.

                She's always been a good judge of

                character, but she's getting old. Don't

                prove her wrong. The knife's over there.

 

Oz sweeps toward the back door and pushes it open, sweeping everything onto the porch. He stares at Gypsy, daring her to complain. She doesn't rise to the bait.

 

                              GYPSY

                You have pushed that trash beyond metaphor,

                you know that? You're actually making your

                own bed. You wanna lay in that, go ahead.

                First, chop some onions.

 

Oz is already peeling the onions as she says this. He's determined to win her over.

 

                              OZ

                So what do you do when you're not telling

                other people what to do? You look like a

                woman of many talents. You're a painter,

                aren't you? I can see them now, you paint

                portraits. Wild, colorful, funky, chunky,

                breathing faces, full of being. You're a                      painter or a poet- right?

 

                              GYPSY

                This is my life, my everything-

                helping Okaasan and Obaasan run this diner.

                I don't have time for anything else. I don't

                want anything else. You're the artist, I get

                it now. That's why you're living where

                Grandma's dog s***s.

 

                              OZ

                It takes one to know one, that's why I

                know you're a sista, babe. I know an artist

                when I meet one. I also know it wasn't that

                long ago you were on the porch yourself, so

                cut a guy some slack, huh?

 

                              GYPSY

                Alright, I'll make you a deal. I have

                a name, show me the courtesy of using

                it. Act like a man, you'll be treated

                like one; annoy like a boy, you'll be

                ignored like one.

 

                              OZ

                There it is- sista, I mean Gypsy, you're

                a poet, a reg'lar Edna St. So-and-So.

 

As they're talking the tinkling of bells and the rattle of keys are heard.

 

                              GYPSY

                They're here, we're open. I gotta get out

                front. Check the potatoes; if they're

                done, pour off the hot water and fill it

                with cold. You get to peel taters today,

                Oswald.

 

                              OZ

                It's Oz. You're not sistababe, I'm not

                Oswald. Deal? As for the spuds, I done

                peeled my way across America. Ya got

                nothin' I can't handle.

 

Voices are heard, both English and Japanese. Kin (Obaasan) is in her 80’s, followed by her 63 yr. old daughter Harue (Okaasan). They alone of their large family survived the firebombing of Tokyo. They are followed closely by customers who’d been waiting outside. They are preceded by Taro, an old scraggly mutt Harue rescued as a pup. The dog races into the kitchen, barking and scratching at the back door.

 

                              GYPSY

                        (petting the dog)

                Hello Taro, you wanna go out?

                        (louder, to others)

                Ohayogozaimasu

                        (to Oz)

                You probably wanna get your bedroll off

                the ground. Taro will chew it to shreds

                in no time, otherwise.

 

                              OZ

                Ok, thanks.

 

                             GYPSY

                 This is Taro’s world, after all.

                 you’re just here to do the dishes.

 

Harue is a tiny woman whose dignity and self-assurance fill any room she enters. She is followed by her ancient mother, a kimono clad Buddhist nun, a woman of such calm and purpose she is visible only to those who seek transcendence for themselves, or when it served her purposes. She made transcendent food; when people ate her cooking, they could see her. She took a stool and began preparing for the day. Gypsy went out front to serve the customers, the regulars who are there when the place opens. Harue sets to work without a word to Oz, as if she’d known him forever, rather than having met him the day before. Oz continues peeling potatoes. 

Obaasan cuts the potatoes into circles to be fried. The Americans ate potatoes with everything. 

The clientele was eclectic:Edie, a female transvestite who dressed as GI Joe and lived on C-rations and coffee.

Sister Phil would be there, all 325 lbs. of her in a gingham pinafore or a nice sweater skirt set, with scalloped sleeves accentuating biceps any bodybuilder would envy. Rather than hiding it, her makeup seemed to emphasize the stubble on her chin, each wiry little strand coated with a shiny peach blush. At 6'5", it was obvious Phil didn't want to be a woman. He was very happy to hover in his own limbo.

There was Little John, a huge biker dude so black he shined. With a chain that ran from his nose ring to his earring, he looked rather intimidating but was friendly to everyone. He enjoyed making white people nervous because he then knew they were unaware of how nervous they made him.

Jon Darling was a hippie kid escaping the oppression of affluence in suburban LA. He followed the Grateful Dead and sold beadwork, tie-dyed T-shirts, and sheets of acid in the parking lot.These were just some of the regulars here everyday, before dawn during the winter. Then there were the semi-regulars, in once a week or once a month, hobos and trust fund retirees equally rich in time and attitude.

 

                            OZ

               Good Morning, how do you say that in Japanese?

 

                           GYPSY

               Oha yo go za i ma su.

 

                           OZ

               And how do you say "where’s the bathroom?"

 

                           GYPSY

              Go out thru the dining room, thru the

              saloon doors and to the right. Don’t

              mind Edie.

 

Gypsy pushes past Oz before he can ask what she’s talking about. As he steps behind the counter he sees Gypsy filling Phyl’s coffee cup. They’re chatting away, taking no notice of Oz’s wide eyes. He walks out, finds the bathroom, and discovers Edie in the midst of a PTA bath. Topless in fatigues and combat boots. He walks over to the urinal and does his business, eager to hide his fascination behind a seen-it-all cool. She towels dry and begins wrapping her breasts. Oz heads to the sink to wash his hands when Edie hisses at him. He retreats. He’s breathless when he gets back to the counter.

 

                           OZ

              Who the, what the, did you know there’s

              a woman in the men’s room?

 

Phyl and Gypsy laugh knowingly, when Gypsy looks at the clock.

 

                           PHYL

              Don’t you worry handsome, he’s harmless,

              at least until he gets his tommy gun.

 

                           GYPSY

              Phyllis, go get her out of there before

              the next bus gets here; hurry up, it’s

              due any minute. You both gotta split

              for awhile, you know the program.

 

                           HARUE (O.S.)

              Boy! Chotto Kite(key-tay)! Come here,

              I’ve got work for you.

 

Oz goes to the kitchen, while Gypsy continues pouring coffee and taking orders. Jon Darling and Little John are sitting at the end of the counter talking politics, and Obaasan is cooking.

 

                           HARUE

             I need you to go to the store for me. I

             need red leaf lettuce-2, 3 iceberg, and

             a carton of True cigarettes. Come thru

             the back but don’t let anyone else thru

             the gate.

 

                           OZ

             Don’t I need any money?

 

                           HARUE

            They’ll put it on my account. Hurry up,

            I need you back here.

 

Oz heads back out thru the dining room. The place is busy now with a lot of Greyhound travelers. The place smells like pork curry, the lunch special.

 

            EXT.*         SUNNY DAY*                BUSY DAY*

 

It’s starting to get busy outside. The streets are alive with cars and travelers the world over are convened here, getting off the last bus or waiting for the next. Anthony is wandering around picking up scrap metal- bottle caps and pop tops- because that’s what Anthony does. As Oz walks, we see the town. It’s a little beach city tourist trap halfway between LA and San Diego/Tijuana. It’s funky beautiful, equal parts LA and TJ. It’s a couple blocks to the store and Oz enjoys the sun and breeze. People are seen on the streets and in the store, who will play a role in our story at some future point.

 

             INT*                  KITCHEN

 

Oz hands over groceries and Harue puts him to work. A montage: Oz at work, Gypsy w/ customers, Harue watching sumo on a small black and white TV, Obaasan cooking/pickling vegetables. Clock is seen spinning, with people coming and going, then just going. An old weathered hand is seen locking the door.

 

            EXT*        SUNNY AFTERNOON     2PM

 

                        HARUE

             You better go get a job, boy. We’ll see

             you in the morning. Don’t be bringing

             anyone else around here, I’ll find out.

 

                        OZ

             Yes Ma’am.

 

With a few dollars in his pocket, Oz heads for the beach. He’ll look for a job tomorrow. It’s lively, the Krishnas are marching and chanting on the boardwalk. People are playing volleyball and basketball. Oz spots a contingent of folk who are carrying backpacks and bedrolls and sets out to meet them. People and things are scattered under the 2 palm trees on the north end of Main Beach. A few are drinking openly and the faintest whiff of pot lingers in the air. Oz approaches cautiously, nervously.

 

                        OZ

             Hi. How ya doin’? You’re travelling

             too? I’m Oz (hand extended). Just got

             here from Oklahoma.

 

The tall, lanky blond kid just looks at Oz’s extended hand w/out speaking. A few seconds and he turns to the others

 

                       BEN-JAMMIN

            Who left the gate open again? We got

            us another damn Okie here.

 

At this, people look over, laughing. Oz laughs along nervously. Someone had sparked a doobie and the air was becoming thick with it. The blatant nature of the act caught him off guard, when he realizes people are gathering their backpacks and sleeping bags, leaving. A pretty blonde in a peasant skirt runs back to Oz and hands him the remains of the doobie.

 

                      BLONDE

            Here you go, brutha. Enjoy

 

With that, she ran off with the others. Left surrounded by empty beer cans and in a cloud of smoke, Oz looked at the joint in his hand and considered re-lighting it when 2 bicycle cops pulled up. He quickly crumples it and swallows.

 

                      COP 1

            There’s no drinking on Main Beach, sir.

            I need to see some ID please

 

                      COP 2

            Looks like you got a party going on.

            Where is everyone? You drink all

            these yourself?

 

With that, Oz lets out a groan and reaches for his wallet, opens it and hands over his license. It reads:

 

                LEE, HARVEY OSWALD dob 12/24/1965

                123 Acacia Lane

                Tulsa, OK

 

Oz knew what to expect and braced himself. People were either incredulous or oblivious. Oz hopes for the latter, but this is what he gets:

 

                     COP 2 

           Oh, this is rich. Take a look.

 

He hands the license to his partner, who is oblivious until it is explained to him.

 

                     COP 2

           We’ve got ourselves a hobo assassin.

           If I were you, I’d try keeping a lower

           profile.

 

The officer looks around at the mess, disgusted and amused.

 

                     OZ

          It’s a name, a cruel joke by sick people

          that I had nothing to do with. And this

          ain’t my mess either, but you know that,

          too.

 

                     COP 2

          Pick all this s**t up rapido.

 

After searching Oz and his belongings, the officers leave him with a ticket for drinking in public and littering. Oz is still gathering beer cans and assorted rubbish when the blonde reappears.

 

                    BLONDE

         Hi, I’m Summer. Sorry about that- you

         just got initiated. What’s your name?

 

                    OZ

         Oz. Thanks for the welcome wagon. Y’all

         mess with everybody like that?

 

                   BLONDE

        Oz? Really? You don’t sound Australian,

        are you a wizard?

 

                  OZ

        Summer? Really?, cuz you just frosted

        my day. I just got here and already I’m

        a crinimal. What’s the fine? Do you know,

        Summer, really?

 

                 SUMMER

        First of all, you gotta calm down. Those

        guys saw you coming before you knew

        you were. You got your initiation pretty

        quick, but I’m not surprised. You need

        a bath.

 

                 OZ

        Thanks,Sunshine. Initiation?

 

                 SUMMER

        Everyone with a bedroll gets written up

        the minute they hit the beach. Ain’t

        that right, Dan’l?

 

Genuinely annoyed but even more fascinated with her, Oz did not hear the others approach.

 

                 DANIEL

        They were gonna get you, bro, and there

        was no reason for anybody else to get a

        ticket, right? It’s just a fine, or you

        give ‘em a couple days.

 

                 OZ

        Just a fine, that’s a laugh.

 

                 DANIEL

        You just got fingered dude, don’t worry.

        They just wanted to ID you and hang some

        paper over your head. If you don’t go to

        court, they don’t grab you right away.

        They wait to see what you’re doing, and

        if you pop up on their radar, then they

        can disappear you for a while. So make

        your court date and you’ll be alright.

 

Oz sighs and falls down into a sitting position. For the 1st time, Oz really looks around at the people and is surprised to recognize some from the diner. Little John is there, as is John D and a couple of tourists from Texas. All the hobos and backpackers and then some wandered back and took up their places. The beach is really busy now, and those same cops buzz by periodically. The sky darkens as this montage of beach scenes dissolves into a lively fire. Pull back to reveal a fire surrounded by people. Waves are crashing loudly just a few feet away and AL BAL is putting on the concert of his life. The fire is burning high and a gallon bottle of Chateau Alberto was making its way around the crowd. Al was singing with all his heart. He concluded a song as someone threw a big wood plank onto the fire. Seizing the stage, Al jumped onto the board and stood there playing guitar and singing "Fire Down Below" by Bob Seger. Oz’s eyes are lit with wine and reflecting fire.

 

  INT*            KITCHEN*                      EARLY AND BRIGHT

The hiss of gas is heard, the burners come on, Oz is seen drowsily preparing the kitchen. Time has passed, he’s more confident and secure in his position. He settles into a chair when he hears Gypsy at the door.

       

                 OZ

        Ohio.

 

                GYPSY

        Good morning. Why isn’t the coffee on

        yet? What have you been doing?

 

                OZ

        Already with the complaining. C’mon

        girl, sit a minute. The coffee will get

        made, just chill. Try this.

 

Oz hands her a mug of tea he had just made, steamy and delicious.

 

                GYPSY

       Wow, what is this?

            

                OZ

      (as he’s filling the coffee pot)

      Licorice spice. It’s a good wake-up

      drink. There, coffee’s on, I’ll be

      right back.

 

               GYPSY

      Where are you goin’?

 

              OZ

      I’ll be right back.

 

              GYPSY

      Hurry up.

 

             OZ

      Yes honey.

 

He leans in to kiss her cheek but she pulls away.

Author's Note

obvsly unfinished
would like comment/criticism re: how to improve.
dialogue seems too forced/contrived