The Sectarian: Story of a Somewhat Lovable Religigo - Synopsis (Super-Short Summary)

And here's my synopsis for the SECTARIAN: Story of a Somewhat Lovable Religigo

If you go deep enough into some places in this country, you find a whole different attitude.  Call it a mindset, or a way of life that’s so unbending, it’s almost religious.  That’s how some minorities might feel, traveling from the west coast to the deep south.   That’s how Luzy-Ann felt at first, growing up the only Asian in a small southern town, adopted from Vietnam, or some country from the Orient.  Her parents: flower children, Brent and Violet, were told they could not have children, but after adopting Luzy-Ann, “Luz” for short, Brent and Violet had a biological child, named Lake.

Discriminated against, picked on by the prejudiced children and parents of the neighborhood, frightened, made to feel “yellow”, left out if she would not fit in, morbidly exacerbating her “yellowness”, Luzy-Ann squeezes herself into the southern mold: church-going, god-fearing, clinging to the white ideal, placating the matrons of the local church until she is as sectarian as if she were a real white person. 

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Luzy-Ann and Lake both grew up in a small southern town.  No big deal.  They were the daughters of flower children Brent and Violet, who moved from California to Mississippi to care for Violet’s sick, aging Aunt Tatem.  Luzy-Ann was older and adopted from Vietnam.  Lake was younger and the real, biological child.  The real child because she really was similar to her parents, free spirited and autonomous.  Luzy-Ann, crushingly out-of-place in the Bible-belt mindset of the south, squeezed herself into a white mold that was so pristine, her “yellowness” shone through all the more garishly.  Here is the story of two sisters, whose ties ended with their last name but whose love for each other remained the same. 

When the playground bullies picked on Luzy-Ann and knocked the books out of her hand, she fought back, and was punished by the teacher.  When the church-wives commented on her yellow skin, she donned gloves and wide-brim hats, and even bought some “brightening” lotion (a.k.a. “whitening” lotion).  None of this advanced her much in the eyes of the wicked-tongue matrons of that pious town, until she figured in a vague way that she could only gain acceptance by beating them in their own devotion.  To god.  Values.  And small-town smugness. 

(In short, she becomes so sectarian )

Treatment (Summary): the SECTARIAN; the Story of a Lovable Religious Bigot

I found the treatment summary that I wrote for this screenplay/short story a long time ago. Saves me the trouble of rewriting it:

Luzy-Ann and Lake both grew up in a small southern town.  No big deal.  They were the daughters of flower children Brent and Violet, who moved from California to Mississippi to care for Violet’s sick, aging Aunt Tatem.  Luzy-Ann was older and adopted from Vietnam.  Lake was younger and the real, biological child.  The real child because she really was similar to her parents, free spirited and autonomous.  Luzy-Ann, crushingly out-of-place in the Bible-belt mindset of the south, squeezed herself into a white mold that was so pristine, her “yellowness” shone through all the more garishly.  Here is the story of two sisters, whose ties ended with their last name but whose love for each other remained the same. 

When the playground bullies picked on Luzy-Ann and knocked the books out of her hand, she fought back, and was punished by the teacher.  When the church-wives commented on her yellow skin, she donned gloves and wide-brim hats, and even bought some “brightening” lotion (a.k.a. “whitening” lotion).  None of this advanced her much in the eyes of the wicked-tongue matrons of that pious town, until she figured in a vague way that she could only gain acceptance by beating them in their own devotion.  To god.  Values.  And small-town smugness.

By the time Luzy-Ann and Lake are in high school,  Aunt Tatem is still dying by inches, energized by Luzy-Ann’s remarkable transformation into what she deems is a real southern girl.  But Luzy-Ann did not achieve her remarkable paradigm of church-goer come gossip without a cost.  Learning to ignore the bigoted snips of the townsfolk, she ignores the exhortations of her own family.  When she plans to organize an abortion protest in the same public park as a group of White Supremecists, her parents forbid her to go.  How the skinhead was able to persuade Luzy-Ann to that right-to-lifers were not much different than racists you’ll just have to read the screenplay to find out.  Yet not surprisingly, Luzy-Ann sneaks off and attends the demonstrations at the park.  Demonstration singular, for there wasn’t much of a party representing the pro-lifers, not surprisingly enough. 

When Luzy-Ann’s parents discover she is gone, they race after her.   At the park, Brent demands Luzy-Ann come home with him.  When she refuses, and Brent literally drags Luzy-Ann away, a skinhead steps in to fight for her “rights”.  A riot ensues, and Violet is hurt and killed.  Brent dies soon after.  And Luzy-Ann falls ill with bronchitis that lingers. 

Aunt Tatem dies when Luzy-Ann reaches the age of majority and she takes on the duty of raising Lake.  But with no experience behind her overwhelming sense of religious duty, and because Luzy-Ann had few to asymptotically approaching zero dates of her own, she hung around when Lake got ready for her frequent dates.  Once while Lake is getting ready for a date, Luzy-Ann discovers a tampon wrapper in the wastebasket.  She demands that Lake “take it out”.  Exasperated, incredulous, not really serious or she would have thought about it, Lake tells her goads/dares Luzy-Ann to take it out herself.  For a child who suffered the bigotry of a white small town, this was a nothing challenge to Luzy-Ann.  She tackles Lake just as her date arrives at the front door.  In six and three-quarter hours, the whole/entire town knows about the X sisters girl-on-girl action.  And for once, Luzy-Ann had more calls for dates than she could confess in one session to a Father X.

It does not help that Lake is the normal rebellious teenager, and Luzy-Ann does her best to teach and punish her.  When Lake is arrested for joyriding with a bunch of boys, Luzy-Ann comes to the jail, but decides to leave Lake there and think about what people will say when they find out that she’s been cavorting with boys.  So Lake finds out the non-limit to which Luzy-Ann will sell her out in the name of Christian values, and moves to California because she is afraid that “when they come to take me, you’ll not only let them in, but you’ll open the door in welcome…For the good of my soul, of course.”

Luzy-Ann eventually marries; a few years later her husband Stan, unceremoniously divorces her--even though Luzy-Ann tells him he cannot since they’re Catholic.  Her life in this town all but gone and her lungs deteriorating, Luzy-Ann finds that she has won the lottery, a tradition she plays whenever the pot gets over three million.  Because her cat Butterfly cannot tolerate traveling, she leaves her with a pet store who will find a home for Butterfly.  At the same moment, a boy with his puppy walks by.  The puppy chases Butterfly down and across the street and up a tree, but the puppy gets hit with a car while racing across the street.  Distraught and inconsolable, the boy asks if he will see his dog in heaven.  Luzy-Ann decides to set him straight, informing him that dogs have no souls and therefore cannot go to heaven. 

She sells the house, says good-bye to her handsome priest wistfully, buys a relic for protection on the road (Saint ______ for those of you who are interested), and surprises Lake when she shows up unannounced at Lake’s doorstep. 

Living together once again, nothing is changed except the backdrop.  But Luzy-Ann has passed her formative years and the only thing that the climate of Southern California can do for her is incite her sneering, sectarian ways.  She offers the relic to Lake, who questions its authenticity and demands that any redecorating, i.e., pinning crucifixes to the wall and altars in the living room be removed.  They don’t embarrass Lake, she just doesn’t need it, and neither do her friends, who are fascinated by Luzy-Ann almost like an iridescent insect under a microscope: small but flaming.  On her side, Luzy-Ann develops a crush on one of Lake’s male friends, not ____, the gay one, but ______.  He goes out with Luzy-Ann twice because he is amused and wants to find out if she is the real thing.  She is: with the false eyelashes, the demur puff-sleeved dresses, the matching hat and gloves, the wrap skirt that she wears at the beach on her date with ____. 

At the beach, X finally gets her to relax and even snakes in a kiss.  In her languid, unguarded moment, Luzy-Ann muses/reveries why should could not be a good priest-ess.  She’s read the Bible and has a lot to say about the gospel.  When X brings her to a charismatic church one fine Sunday, Luzy-Ann gets into the spirit but still, she has to attend a Catholic mass for it to count.  X finds out, like her former husband Stan, that she really is the tight-arsed old maid she lets on to be. 

While Luzy-Ann panicked about the few dates with X, she still had time to butt into Lake’s date: yes, he’s practicing, Lake informs Luzy-Ann, he just happens to be a dred-locked Middle-Eastern practicing Buddhist.  Yes, Lake scoured everywhere to bring him home, purpose for Luzy-Ann.  But when Luzy-Ann will not stop harping on him, Lake tells her to move out, with her lottery winnings, she can afford it. 

Lake calls Stan.  He comes to California and see

But the Southern California weather must have seeped skin deep into Luzy-Ann’s unnaturally pale skin.  She went shopping with lake and friends along an outdoor mall.  Part of the road had some construction work going on.  A construction worker was working shirtless in the hot sun.  Lake looked, X looked, and even Luzy-Ann gave a long glance when they dared her to.  A few weeks later, when Luzy-Ann is out shopping, she sees X and a girl.  Jumping out of her conservative self, she invites X over to see her new place.  X declines and when Luzy-Ann realizes that he does not want to go out on a third date, she protests “but you kissed me.”

Stricken, with her cough getting worse, Luzy-Ann attends an abortion protest at the Planned Parenthood where Lake works.  There, she meets Greg, a fanatical Christian who appears, acts overexcited at this particular rally, for some reason.  Luzy-Ann also spots Y walking into the clinic.  Y visits Lake for a consultation and leaves.  Luzy-Ann, busy-bodying in, approaches Y, and offers Y money to keep the child.  That way X can keep writing while helping Y raise their baby.  When Luzy-Ann returns to the fray, Greg is wide-eyed and glassy in anticipation.  From his ranting, Luzy-Ann believes that he has set a bomb in the clinic, but Greg will not tell her anything because he knows her sister is inside.  Torn between her moral fervor and an act of disloyalty to the cause and the safety of her sister and others inside, Luzy-Ann approaches the building with dread and a self-created thinly disbelief.  The security guard grabs her, spurning her into action.  She finds her sister and tells her that she thinks a bomb is inside.  Not wanting to panic their clients, Lake and a nurse rapidly evacuate the clinic, but not before Lake gets caught in the explosion. 

Lake gets better, but Luzy-Ann does not.  Yet she has made leaps and bounds.  When she runs into a little boy whose old dog has died, she does tell him that all good dogs go to heaven.  She also returns to the shopping strip where the construction worker is still shirtless and digging in the hot sun.  Herself, hatless with a skin revealing dress, Luzy-Ann pretends she is lost and asks for directions.  This leads to her inviting him to a drink at the bar.  When she leaves, Luzy-Ann steps backward into some wet cement.  The construction worker laughs and worries over her while he cleans her off; Luzy-Ann says that she can’t help but look up (emphasize this in screenplay). 

Sometime later, Lake wakes her young son for Sunday Mass, in memory of her sister who ___, but never stopped trying.

I'm going to a Swing State!

(Now that the election is over, check out Ssal's Inaugural Poem for the Pres! To be distinguished from A Tale of Two Romneys for Mitt Romney!)

Guess who's going to a swing? I would always wrinkle my nose at politics and remember when I was in high school, and all my friends were running for some position in the Math Club, or the Science Club, or the Honor Society because we were all going to college and had to list at least one leadership position, lol.

They had to make a two-minute speech on why you should vote for them and the idea of that made me queasy. Telling people why you think you are better. So, I never ran for Treasurer of the Math Club or Secretary of the Chess Club (probably because I wasn’t in the Chess Club).

And through the years, I thought I’d never be a political person. Until Gore v. Bush. Sometimes, despite yourself, you gotta’ drag yourself in. I can’t say that I am motivated like some people, whose only purpose is to “make Obama a one-term president” because that’s just the Haters coming out. That type pof negative feeling doesn’t motivate me.

However, defending an innocent person who is being pounded on for no good reason other than the fact that he is not white, well, I go for underdogs. And the fact that B.O. doesn’t play the race card and takes everything so gracefully (I would have long ago called some people out for not liking me if I were Black long ago!), like the Governor from Arizona, the Speaker of the House, that Billionaire Adelson who has already given 100 million and committed 200 million to defeat President Obama. Well, they’re going to see how much more powerful love can be.

After I gave $5 to Obama’s campaign (they ask for at least $5), I got a follow-up email asking me that B.O. needs help. Can I make some phone calls? Yes, I can! I’m playing hooky from work and going to a swing state to make some phone calls to Get Out the Vote! No matter what happens, I can say, I did something and didn’t sit by the wayside.

I do not think that humanity will always win in the end. Sometimes, a species just annihilates itself from greed. I mean, do you think Sandy was the typical hurricane storm that we usually get? Every year, the hurricanes get BIGGER.

So, I’ll tell you how the trip to NEVADA goes. Sin City, here I come!

P.S. It went great, as you all know the outcome to the election. Now you can read my Inaugural Poem for President  Obama! Friend me on Facebook to let others know about the poem!

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MY OTHER WRITINGS

What I Said When I Saw Salvador Dali’s Metamorphosis of Narcissus at the Tate Modern

The Sectarian: the story of a lovable, religious bigot PAGES 20-30ish

Prior posting (Nov. 3) of The Sectarian: the story of a lovable, religious bigot

Luzy-Ann, a very Southern name (hyphenated names usually are), doesn't fit in. Especially in school. As is the case with most bullies, the teachers don't really help at all, even when the bully is a much bigger boy and the kid picked on is a small girl. 

When Lake is born to Luzy-Ann's parents, Luzy-Ann feels even more sharply how different she is from everybody else living in their small town. Even with a little sister, Luzy-Ann feels even lonelier. The thing about Luzy-Ann, though, is that she tries. She tries to make things better, fix her problems, but being her own guide, things become difficult.

FIGHTS AT SCHOOL

EXT.  PLAYGROUND AT GRAMMAR SCHOOL   MORNING

Luzy-Ann is walking through the school playground to get to class.  Two boys walk up to her.  They are the class bullies.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

My sister was the only Asian in town, or as her cruel classmates called her: a "yellow-belly".  This particularly grieved my sister, but not my parents.  They were sorry that my sister was tormented at school, but since they knew my sister was no such thing, they told her wisely to ignore the schoolchildren's taunts.  Of course, if my sister had been wise, she wouldn't have been a seven-year-old in grammar school.  All this of course, my sister could not articulate. 

Each boy is on either side of Luzy-Ann.  They alternate pushing her, trying to make her drop her schoolbooks.

BOBBY LEE

We don't let yellow monkeys go to school with our kind.

(pushes Luzy-Ann again)

NARRATOR (V.O.)

The teachers didn't help either.  Maybe because they believed that's what my sister was, or because they knew it was useless to try to stop the kids.  Every year, there was a class bully.  And every year, there was a poor child who was the bully's target.  My sister's second- grade year was her year to be picked on.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

One day, however, feeling that the world had abandoned her, my sister resorted to self help.  She was sandwiched between two bullies, Bobby-Lee, who was in the fourth grade.  His father made a living killing deer.  And Billy-Joe, whose mother named him so because she often could not remember his name, and two names to guess at made it easier than one.  They were taking turns pushing my sister between them, when--

LUZY-ANN

Stop it, Bobby-Lee, I'm going to tell on you.

BOBBY-LEE

So what?  Nothing's gonna' happen to me, you yellow-belly.  You shouldn't even be here.

Bobby-Lee pushes Luzy-Ann some more.  She stumbles

BILLY-JOE

Yeah, you should be grateful for the food that we give you.  You'd be starving in China if it weren't for us, you dumb Chino girl. 

Bobby-Lee pushes Luzy-Ann and she drops some of her books.

BOBBY-LEE

Why don't you go back home?  My Dad says all Hasians are scared, that's why they always scamper around and bow and say "yes, sir"  Here, pick that up, yellow belly!

Bobby-Lee throws S's books on the ground.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

At the moment that my sister bent to pick up her books,--

Bobby-Lee kicks Luzy-Ann on the rump. 

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

Something snapped in her savage little Asian heart. 

Luzy-Ann slams the books in the Bobby-Lee face, kicks both of them, and butts her head in Billy-Joe's abdomen.  They run crying to their teacher.

BOOBY LEE

Teacher, look what she did to us! 

SPIKE

She hit us!

NARRATOR (V.O.)

It was also at that moment that my sister realized that injustice in the world runs down to even the humblest of God's creatures. 

They run into the school building.  A TEACHER, sitting at her desk, gets up when she sees the two boys crying.  She calms the boys down and walks outside to Luzy-Ann.

TEACHER

(sternly, sharp, nasal-voice)

Luzy-Ann, you come here. 

Luzy-Ann looks at the Teacher defiantly.

INT.  PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE  AFTERNOON

Violet and Brent, the principal of Luzy-Ann's school, and the teacher who "caught" Luzy-Ann attacking Bobby-Lee and Billy-Joe are seated.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

She was given detention for a week.  My parents were called to the principal's office.

TEACHER

That's what comes of adopting a foreigner. 

(sniffing)

Who knows where she came from? 

VIOLET

She came from Malaysia. 

TEACHER

(smugly)

That's what they wanted you to think. 

VIOLET

So what if she didn't come from Malaysia, what if she came from China? 

TEACHER

It's important to know where our children come from.  Because if you don't, who knows what they might do?

VIOLET

How can you tell what they might do based on where they come from?

TEACHER

Well, such as Nigeria.

(almost in a whisper)

I heard that they sacrifice animals. 

BRENT

She's Asian.  I guess that rules out animal sacrifice.  Besides, we're raising her vegetarian. 

EXT.  HALLWAY

Luzy-Ann is outside the principal's office listening in.  She is sad. 

LAKE IS BORN

INT.  NURSERY  DAY

Violet is holding her newborn.  Luzy-Ann is eagerly trying to get close to the baby.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

It was about this time that I was born.  Yes, the doctors were wrong, my mother could have children after all.  When my Mom did get pregnant, my Mad always said that if we paid physicians like mechanics, they'd get it right more of the time. 

My sister said that she wanted a brother.  I think this was because she could have someone to pick on, to relive the days when she was bullied and she triumphed. 

LUZY-ANN

She's white. 

VIOLET

(kissing baby)

What, honey?

LUZY-ANN

She doesn't look like me.

VIOLET

Well, honey, she's just the same as you.

LUZY-ANN

I thought she would be yellow like me.  Why am I yellow?

VIOLET

You're not honey, you're tan.

LUZY-ANN

That's because I play outside.  Why isn't anyone else yellow?

VIOLET

They are honey. 

LUZY-ANN

I don't see any.

VIOLET

When you grow up and travel a bit, you'll see a lot of yellow, red, brown, even green people.

Violet kisses Luzy-Ann and kisses the baby again.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

At that moment, which shouldn't happen to anyone so young, my sister felt utterly and completely alone in the world.  It isn't that my parents favored me.  I never even noticed the difference until I was close to my pre-teen years.  And the differences I noticed had nothing to do with skin color.  As a matter of fact, my parents were adamant that my older sister take care of me.  Which meant of course, that I had to listen to her and do as she said when my parents weren't around.  This, my sister liked, and it made her feel not so alone. 

INT.  AUNT TATEM'S HOUSE   DAY

Violet is rushing around the house, getting ready for a dinner date. 

LAKE (V.O.)

My sis was made for kids.  She simply longed for them.  Here, was, another human being, totally helpless and utterly dependant upon the good graces of my sister who must not only obey and listen to her but listen to the reasons why obedience was the only choice given.  Child slavery was more rampant that most people think. 

VIOLET

Now, Lake, listen to your sister.  Don't get into any trouble and don't eat all the pie I put in the refrigerator.  That's for tomorrow when the guests come.  Do you understand? 

LAKE

But she never lets me do anything.  She makes me ask for everything.

VIOLET

Luzy-Ann, don't take advantage of your position.  You're here to take care of your little sister, not beleaguer her with orders.

LUZY-ANN

She never listens to me.

LAKE

You're always wrong.

VIOLET

(excited)

Girls, I have to meet your father.  He's interviewing for a position.  It's a chance to move out of here.

LAKE

Are we going away?  Hooray!

Luzy-Ann looks perturbed.  Violet preens herself in the hallway mirror. 

VIOLET

How do I look?

LAKE

Beautiful, mom. 

Violet leans over and gives both girls a hug and kiss.

VIOLET

You girls be good while I'm gone now. 

She leaves.  Luzy-Ann has a newfound gleam in her eye.

LUZY-ANN

It's time for lessons.

LAKE

Lessons!  It's Saturday.

LUZY-ANN

Exactly.  Aunt Tatem told me to make sure you learn your catechism. 

LAKE

(wearily)

I hope Dad gets that job. 

FITTING IN: A BORN AGAIN CHRISTIAN

INT. CHURCH   MORNING

Sunday mass is being celebrated.  Luzy-Ann is in church, looking bright and devout, and singing loudly.

LAKE (V.O.)

Because my sister was made to feel yellow, so to speak, she began to try to fit in...and become white, so to speak.  She attended church regularly.  Wore the same checked muslin dresses, broad rimmed sun hats, and even outdid the churchgoers of our town.  Only the older ladies dressed so, we figured it was these fearsome matrons Luzy-Ann was trying to placate.

EXT. CHURCH  MORNING

The congregation is milling around outside church after mass.  The young people are dressed in modern dresses, pants and shirts.  The older women are dressed in old-fashioned dresses, as is Luzy-Ann.

LAKE (V.O.)

(continuing)

She was wont to be seen in gloves.  This kept the sun off her hands, and made her "less tan", she explained.  When pressed, she would say the sun was bad for her skin and she wanted to keep as young looking as possible,

A WOMAN is remarking on Luzy-Ann's cover from the sun.

WOMAN

But you look sixteen, how young do you want to be?

LAKE (V.O.)

My sister could have learned any one of several lessons from that experience.  She could have washed her hands of a town that did not accept her.  But that was not my sister's way.  My sister felt that there was always a workable solution.  And her solution in this case was to make them accept her.  This distressed my parents somewhat, but at the same time, how could they keep her from being what she wanted? 

INT.  BATHROOM  EVENING

Luzy-Ann is putting the finishing touches on her makeup.  She is sticking on her false eyelashes.  Because she thinks they make her Asian eyes look bigger, more "Caucasian", she doesn't go anywhere without them.  Well satisfied, she smiles to herself in the mirror.

Luzy-Ann leaves the house, dressed so old-fashioned, Violet and Brent look distressed over their daughter's dress.

LAKE (V.O.)

But what was most unfathomable about my sister, was her great big, horrible accent.  It didn't even sound real, yet it was.  As real as all her other peccadilloes that made you want to look at her twice, like a train wreck that has too many dead bodies to look away. 

EXT. RESTAURANT   DAY

Luzy-Ann is sitting with her friend, MARY-ANN, at a small restaurant. 

LAKE (V.O.)

(continuing)

Here she was, an Asian where few were to be seen.  That in itself caused people to stare.  But as soon as she opened her mouth, out came that twang that sounded like a recent immigrant, who was faking it as a California Valley Girl, and trying to pass off as a Southern Belle.  It was too much.

They order lunch.

MARY-ANN

I'll have the sub sandwich, hold the mustard. 

WAITRESS

And you?

LUZY-ANN

I'd like a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich, hold the mayo, extra tomatoes, pickles and onions.  And, may I have baby spinach instead of lettuce?  And the bacon extra crispy.  Oh, and instead of sandwich bread, I'd like it on a croissant.

Luzy-Ann's mangles the pronunciation of "croissant".

WAITRESS

A what?

LUZY-ANN

A croissant.

WAITRESS

We don't got none of those here.

LUZY-ANN

Of course you do.  I had one just last week.  You know, their moon-shaped.  And they're soft, but kind of crispy.

WAITRESS

You mean a crescent?

LUZY-ANN

Yes, a croissant.

The waitress looks at Luzy-Ann oddly.  Mary-Ann smiles sheepishly.

BUYING SKIN WHITENER

PREMISE: THE SECTARIAN: The Story of a Lovable, Religious Bigot

THE SECTARIAN: The story of a lovable, religious bigot is about a girl who was brought up in Bible Belt America. Being brought up in such an environment, she becomes a Holy Roller herself. That means she becomes uber religious, or as in my Tale of Two Romneys, she becomes a Religigo. 

Funny thing is, our sectarian, had she not been adopted, would have been raised in Asia where religion doesn't play the type of uptight, fire-and-brimstone, scared sexless role that religion in America plays on the fearful. As a matter of fact, had our Sectarian been raised in Japan, she wouldn't even had had a soul to worry about.

To make things even more unlikely, the Sectarian is the adopted child of two Hippies, flower children to the core. Why would they raise a child like the Sectarian? They didn't mean to. Her parents lived in California and were called to Georgia (or was it Mississippi, I wrote it such a long time ago) to care for the Sectarian's adopted mother's aunt, who is ailing. That is, the parents' aunt (on the wife's side). 

The Sectarian's parents at that time, are unable to have their own child and believe they are infertile (I hate blaming it on the woman). So, they adopt a child from Asia, or it might have been from Africa and there was a mixup with the adoption agency. The thought of adopting an African child horrifies the all-white neighbors of course. This type of attitude was felt keenly by our poor Sectarian growing up, being the ONLY Asian within a few hundred miles. 

The young Asian girl tries her best to fit it, even trying to talk with a Southern accent but she keeps switching from a Georgia accent to a Bayou accent to a Mississippi accent, bless her little heart! Trying to fit in meant she went to church every Sunday and excelled at Sunday school. She was prim, proper, prudish, and wore high-collar neck dresses with puff sleeves. She did not like to bare her arms, lol.

The Sectarian's parents realize that yes, indeed, they can have children and have one of their own. This child, also a girl, resembles her parents' liberated lifestyle more than the Sectarian because she is white and isn't stared at the way the poor Asian girl was always stared at growing up: "as if I were a monkey in a cage" the Sectarian complains. 

You can see the potential for conflict. I'll stop now so you can read the actual short story, which has not been converted to a prose from its screenplay form. Believe me, the screenplay reads like a short story and even easier. 

(Hello, Swedish friend, hope you like the story. Hold a sec as I post my adventures in a swing state on election day!)

THE SECTARIAN: The story of a lovable, religious bigot CHAPTERS/SCENES I - SOMETHING

 

THE SECTARIAN:

The story of a lovable, religious bigot

by 

Ssal Nogard

  

                                                              

FADE IN

ABORTION PROTEST

EXT. ABORTION CLINIC   DAY

An abortion protest is being held outside an abortion clinic.  There is so much commotion it is difficult to read the signs that the protesters are waving.  Police are pulling some protesters away and arresting them, because they are getting too close to clients and employees of the clinic.  An ASIAN FEMALE is being escorted further away from the safety zone afforded its employees and clients entering and leaving the clinic.  She retreats as ordered but yelling at the same time.  In her fervor, she advances too close to the clinic and the police begin to arrest her.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

Does this look like a face of a person who should be arrested?  What is she doing?

Two cops are carrying the Asian female away from an abortion protest.  The scene freezes as the narrator interrupts the action.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

Stop right there.

The action stops.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

No, back a little.

The scene rewinds a little.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

There.

The scene stops again.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

Now.  Take a close look at that face.

(pause) 

Can you tell from the face what she's doing there?  Well, from the signs and the yelling and the literal dragging away of bodies, you can tell she's a protester.  But what is she, and all the others, screaming and kicking and protesting?   

The action begins again and our Asian female continues screaming.

ASIAN FEMALE

Get your sinful hands off of me, you-- 

NARRATOR (V.O.)

Maybe you can tell by her face.  If she were black, for instance, one might assume that this was a civil rights protest.  Let's try, for a moment, to just figure what she is protesting by the kind of face she has.  What kind of a face does that look like to you?

The Asian female's face is contorted into a very unattractive expression of hollering and screaming.  But nothing can be heard but the Narrator's voice.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

Okay, let's just say it is a very determined face.  Anything else?

The Asian female clutches her floppy Sunday hat to keep it  from falling off during all the tussling. 

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

She's wearing an Easter hat.  And gloves.  In the summer.

The Asian female is yelling vigorously and with conviction, waving her gloved hands and holding on to her wide-brimmed hat. 

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

She seems to really believe in what she's protesting. 

The Asian female grabs at a fallen sign on the sidewalk.  It reads "Protect the Unborn."

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

Ah, she must be protesting at an abortion clinic, or outside a courthouse where another abortion case is about to be decided.  But it doesn't look like a courthouse.

The Asian female waves the sign furiously as the cops try to handcuff her.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

But which side is she protesting?  The right to life or the right to choice?  Is she against choice or against life?  By the looks of her, I mean, being Asian and all, and this being California...oops, but there I go, stereotyping, assuming that because she's a California Asian, she must be a liberal progressive.  Hmm, I suppose that's why I warned you to look closely. 

Our Asian female is yelling, being dragged away.  She has dropped the sign she was waving.  A policeman holds her by each of her arms.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

That wouldn't be--

The Asian female is screaming in a Southern Accent. 

ASIAN FEMALE

Let go of me, you purveyors of evil.  Protect the unborn!  You big bully!  You wouldn't touch me if you didn't have  that badge on!  Well, I got news for you, buddy!  The good Lord is the only true authority and the likes of you will tremble before him when you stand judgment for wielding your unscrupulous power to perpetuate the slaughter of the unbo-orn! 

While the Asian female is ranting, she drops to her knees, becoming a deadweight, making it difficult for the policemen to drag her away.

ASIAN FEMALE

(continuing)

That's it!  Go ahead and drag a defender of the Lord Almighty away.  We shall overcome!  We shall

overco-ome! 

She continues alternating between struggling and going limp in the policemens' grasp. 

NARRATOR (V.O.)

--that wouldn't be a terrible Southern accent, would it?  As it so happens, it would. 

(resigned)

Be a terrible Southern accent.

But what would an Asian female in Southern California be doing with a mangled southern accent?  Is she pretending?  A poser, perhaps.  No, dear friends, the accent is real.  Or as her friends used to say, terrifically real.  Most everything about this girl was real.  Maybe not real real, but let's step back a little to explain what we mean. 

FLASHBACK: AUNT TATEM IS SICK.

INT. KITCHEN   DAY

NARRATOR (V.O.)

My parents were flower children.  It didn't matter if they were at Woodstock or not, or if they were even alive at the time, they wouldn't have cared.  As is always the case with real flower children, they were flower children no matter what, even when they were living in Mississippi.

A man and a woman are in the kitchen.  They are preparing dinner. 

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

How they came to live with Aunt Tatem was unintended, and its effect on the likes of my parents were as well.

The woman is searching for something in the cupboards while the man is chopping vegetables. 

MOTHER

That was Aunt T.

FATHER

What did she want?

MOTHER

(sighing) 

Well, you know she hasn't been doing well. 

Mother goes to the stove and stirs a pot that is simmering.

FATHER

She's going on seventy, isn't she?  Even she didn't expect to last this long.

MOTHER

Well, it's something else.  Throat Cancer. 

FATHER

(quietly)

Whistles, so the tobacco finally worked its poison, huh. 

MOTHER

Yes. 

(pause) 

And...

FATHER

And?

MOTHER

(keeping her eyes on the pot)

And she wants us to come live with her.

FATHER

(surprised)

What?  I thought she never wanted to see you again.  Unless you repented your ways. 

(cannot help chuckling)

MOTHER

Well, she's dying, Brent, what is she going to do?

(pause) 

What are we going to do...

FATHER

Oh, no.  I love her as much as, well, as I can, but I'm not going to run down to some god-forsaken town.

MOTHER

The people go to church every Sunday.  And some more.

FATHER

Okay, a god-choked town where all they do is stuff god down your throat, tout family values, and have more divorces and out of wedlock children than anywhere else in the country. 

MOTHER

She's all alone. 

FATHER

(sighs, puts the knife down)

Well, I guess I always wanted to have god around all the time. 

(smiles, kisses, and embraces Mother reassuringly)

MOVING TO AUNT TATEM'S IN MISSISSIPPI

EXT. CAR   DAY

NARRATOR (V.O.)

My parents were fond believers that people were fundamentally good at heart and could be changed.  So were the people they lived among.  My parents thought this would give them an unasked for chance to spread the nirvana.  So did the people they moved in upon.  They called it salvation.  Was there a difference?  To my parents, no.  To the people of that small town?  Yes.  Most definitely, yes.  The difference, to them, meant the difference between salvation and a fiery afterlife.

EXT. SMALL HOUSE   DAY

Mother and Father have arrived at Aunt Tatem's house.  They start unpacking the car and go into the house.

INT. AUNT TATEM'S HOUSE   DAY

Aunt Tatem lies on a bed as Mother comes in with an armful of books and kisses her.  Mother puts the books on a table in front of Aunt Tatem.

MOTHER

Aunt Tatem.  You're looking gorgeous. 

AUNT TATEM

Where's that hunk of a husband of yours? 

MOTHER

He's unpacking the truck. 

AUNT

Well, why do you think I invited you?  Get him in here, Brenda.

Aunt Tatem looks dubiously at the books on Buddhist meditation and clears her cancer-ridden throat. 

AUNT TATEM

You know, you should be careful about reading this stuff.  And mind you don't practice it alone. 

VIOLET

Why, Aunt T.?

AUNT TATEM

Because when you "clear your mind of all earthly worries", you let the devil slip in.

VIOLET

I'll be careful to ask who's at the door first. 

AUNT TATEM

Those who laugh are always the first to be taken in by Mestopheles.

VIOLET

Don't you think he'd be too busy to bother?

AUNT TATEM

The devil is interested in everybody.

VIOLET

So he's like god, then.

AUNT TATEM

What in the devil's name are you talking about?

VIOLET

In the good lord's name, Auntie.  A good shepherd never leaves even one of his flock behind, either, right?

AUNT TATEM

Don't blaspheme, Violet. 

VIOLET

I’m just noting the differences, Aunt T. 

AUNT TATEM

Notice that I’m out of tea.  Remember I like it strong, honey, not sugar.

VIOLET

Yes, dear. 

AUNT TATEM

Dying woman can't get a decent cup of tea around her own home. 

Mother kisses her on the head and takes the teacup to the kitchen to steep some more tea.

AUNT TATEM

I talked to Dan.  He's drawing up the papers so's you and Brent can stay here after I’m gone. 

VIOLET

I don't think we'll be staying, dearest. 

AUNT TATEM

It'll do you good.  Get all that nonsense you get from living by too much surf.  Sun's gone to your head.  You should wear a hat you know.  Get brain fever, mark my words. 

TIME TO GO TO CHURCH

EXT.  AUNT TATEM'S HOUSE   DAY

NARRATOR (V.O)

Things didn't work out exactly the way anyone expected.  My Aunt went into remission several times, which is to say, she never really got better.

Aunt Tatem, dressed for church in hat and gloves, knocks on Brent and Brenda's bedroom door.  No answer.  She opens the door and walks in.  Brent and Brenda are sleeping.  The room is dark.

NARRATOR (V.O)

(continuing)

Even though, needless to say, my parents were always the center of attention, as they liked to put it, or as their neighbors put it, a thorn in the side of their peaceful, loving town, You would think my Aunt would not tolerate them.  However, she had a thing for trying to convert infidels. 

Aunt Tatem walks to the window.

AUNT TATEM

Violet, it's time for church.

VIOLET

(muffled voice)

Not going, Aunt. 

Aunt Tatem opens the shades.

BRENT

(wakes up)

What the--?

AUNT TATEM

It's Sunday, time to worship and give thanks to the Lord for everything he's given and done for us during the past week. 

VIOLET

(rolling over onto her husband)

We did that at the beginning of the week, Auntie, we do it everyday. 

AUNT TATEM

But you must do it in the house of the Lord.  How else will he hear you?

VIOLET

Auntie, close the shades.  God hears us wherever we are, at least that's what our neighbors were always complaining about

(giggling)

and if place mattered, I think open air thanks reaches him better.  That's how we do it.  Or at least we used to, until we got caught. 

Now good night.

AUNT TATEM

(sighs)

I'll pray an extra Hail Mary for you both.

BRENT

Amen. 

Aunt Tatem leaves the bedroom.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

My parents literally wore flowers in their hair for many years, my dad, too.

Brent is reading on the porch.  A basket of freshly cut flowers is at Violet's feet.  She finishes making a wreath of flowers and places it on Brent's head. 

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

This bothered many of the town folk, but none of them said anything, as my Dad was six-foot-four and two hundred twenty pounds.  It didn't bother my parents; they seemed to get their equilibrium from other people's disequilibria, particularly when they were the source of that discomfort. 

INT. ROOM IN AUNT TATEM'S HOUSE   DAY

Violet and Brent are building a room into a nursery. 

NARRATOR (V.O.)

(continuing)

How did I know all this since I wasn't even born yet?  The same way that I knew that my sister wasn't exactly the type of child my parents wanted.  Or so I had thought at the time.  My older sister was unexpected.  No, my parents wanted children.  Only they had wanted another one.  You see, the doctor had told my mother that she could not have children, and so my parents decided to adopt.  They had lined up an orphan from Nigeria. 

In short, things get around.  In a small town, each member feels that it is his individual duty to update a person on all the facts that, if known to the person, would make him uncomfortable. 

ADOPT AN AFRICAN?

INT.  AUNT TATEM'S HOUSE   DAY

A NEIGHBOR has come to visit.  She has brought a blueberry pie, which she places on the dining room table.  Mother walks to the room where she had been making up the nursery and motions the Neighbor to follow.  The nursery is unfinished.

MOTHER

I'm making up the nursery.  What do you think of the mobile?  The mobile is made of people from different parts of the world in ethnic dress.

The Neighbor frowns at it. 

MOTHER

We're going to teach him languages early; the mobile hums out different words in French, Spanish, and Latin. 

The Neighbor does not comment but instead blurts out:

NEIGHBOR

(worried)

Are you sure it won't bring yellow fever to the town?

Violet holds up the wallpaper.  

VIOLET

How do you like the color?  It's a neutral beige pink. 

NEIGHBOR

Are you getting a girl?

VIOLET

He (emphasis) won't.  He'll be vaccinated and checked for everything before the immigration officials will allow him in.

NEIGHBOR

How do you know what kind of family he comes from?

VIOLET

We don't.  But it's pretty safe to say that his parents were killed in the recent uprising.  Very probably they were poor and loved their son very much. 

Violet leaves the wallpaper and beings fussing with the drapes. 

NEIGHBOR

What's wrong with adopting an American child?  We've plenty of orphans here who need parents.

VIOLET

We thought about that.  Reaching out halfway across the world, there's just something so connecting, uniting in it.  As if we're all part of the same world, we're all god's children.

I can't get them to drape right.  See?

Violet holds the curtain fabric up for the Neighbor to inspect.

NEIGHBOR

Should put some starch in them.  Indeed we are, but there's no harm in helping our closer brothers and sisters.

Violet inspects the curtain fabric.

VIOLET

I'm not interested in adopting a white child.  There's a snag running through this.  Didn't see it before. 

NEIGHBOR

I can see that.  What's wrong with adopting a white child?  Aren't they as good as black children?

VIOLET

Of course they are. 

NEIGHBOR

Even better for white parents. 

VIOLET

If that's your defining quality for humans. 

NEIGHBOR

It's natural.  It comes first because that's what people see. 

VIOLET

I know.  I wish people could walk inside out, with their intestines and liver and kidneys hanging out.  That way you could see what your really getting.  An alcoholic, a smoker.  Defining children this way.

NEIGHBOR

(stiffly)

You know, we're not all bigots in the South.

VIOLET

We're not all heathens that are going to hell in California.

NEIGHBOR

That's what you think.  That's where you liberals go wrong.  God struck down Gomorrah once.  He'll do it again.

VIOLET

I'm glad it's not a symmetrical idea.

NEIGHBOR

What isn't?

VIOLET

I'm glad I can't say the same for you.  That some of your ideas are wrong. 

NEIGHBOR

(huffy)

Of course not. 

The neighbor picks up a blanket.

NEIGHBOR

You know, my mother used mohair blankets.  It's soft and light enough for the summer. 

VIOLET

Doesn't the hair cause allergies? 

NEIGHBOR

Not if you get a good weave.  I'll see if I can dig up my baby blanket.  I put it away after Samuel went to college.

VIOLET

I'd appreciate it, Mrs. Weaver.

ADOPTING AN ASIAN, MY LITTLE BANANA

INT. ROOM   DAY

NARRATOR (V.O.)

When my sister came, the townsfolk felt that god had made them a compromise, and were eager, at the start, to accept my sister.  The black son that my parents wanted fell through.  My dad, especially, had wanted to train a little football hero, never having been really talented himself, even at touch football.  My mother, not wanting a boy, really was glad to have a girl first. 

Father and Mother take turns holding their little Asian girl.

VIOLET

Do we really want to change her name? 

BRENT

She's going to stick out bad enough as it is.

VIOLET

But, can't we name her something more normal?

BRENT

Luzy-Ann is normal, here at least.

VIOLET

I'll call her "Luz".

BAPTISM

INT. CHURCH   MORNING  

It is LUZY-ANN's baptism.  The priest gently wets her head with holy water.  After the priest blesses the baby, sings the cross, Aunt Tatem holds her. 

PRIEST

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

AUNT TATEM

(whispers)

You will have a great cross to bear.  But I will share your burden. 

A choir is singing a hymn.

CHOIR

(singing)

"And let all who have suffered, let them come to the Lord, without sorrow, without strife..."

NARRATOR (V.O.)

But it was my aunt who seemed to know what it really meant for a child such as my sister to be raised in a place such as our small town.  It was because she was to be part of the cause and the problem, that she knew so well.