Cast: Barry Allen Drummond, 70, owner of decaying antebellum mansion which he rents out to roomers.
Archie Don Hererra, 50, father of Jamie
Jamie Don Hererra, 20, Dyslexic roomer
Warren Anderson, 20, Dyslexic roomer
Scene: Exterior Deep South, urban neighborhood developed around antebellum mansion and slave quarters
Interior Jail visiting area, prisoners and visitors separated by glass
Interior: Barry's home movie studio
Interior: Jamie's small room in mansion
Interior: Kitchen in mansion
Barry Allen Drummond was breaking the law when he kicked his roomers out without notice but he didn't respect the law any more than he respected the boys. The stuff left behind was thrown out to make room for a new boy. The antebellum mansion was a honey trap into which young men without funds sought refuge, were exploited for free labor and companionship and then were kicked out. The small rents went directly into Drummond's pocket to buy equipment for his home movie studio while subzero winds blew through broken windows in rooms without heat.
One day Drummond called the father of one of the boys and told him to pick up the boys' things. The tenant in question had moved in two weeks ago without paying rent and was now serving 30 days in jail for failing to keep an appointment with his probation officer. While the boy was in jail, his friend had moved into the boy's room and was selling drugs from the room. Another one of the boys got in a fight with the friend over $10 of marijuana. Drummond kicked both of the boys out. The father should come and pick up the boy's stuff because Drummond needed to rent out the room to a new tenant. The father said he would come and Drummond lay back on his Lazy Boy chair with a bottle of Vodka and watched a movie in his dark room waiting for the father to come and take the kids' stuff out of the room.
Archie parked his car in front of old slave house that Drummond lived in which was right across the street from the antebellum mansion that Drummond had converted into a low income rooming house. He knocked on Drummond's door and was surprised at the stench of Vodka and sweat that came from Drummond's body when he opened the door. The two men walked across the street to the mansion house. Upstairs, Archie looked around the small room that his son had rented just before he went to jail. "Where's the heater?" he said.
"His friend must have taken it with the rest of the stuff when I kicked him out," Drummond said.
"My truck will be in the shop until the 5th. Will you take $200 to store the stuff until then?"
"When will that be?"
"I'll have this stuff out by the Fifth.
Drummond took the cash.
"I don't think my son is any worse than the other tenants you have here," Archie said.
Drummond's voice got high. "I have good tenants here. I have a medical student, a teacher and an old man that has been here for years. I can't have drugs in the house. Your son invited a drug dealer in here and he sold drugs to the kid downstairs. I had to throw both of them out. I just won't put up with that. I won't have that in my house" Archie winced at the homosexual nuance and left.
Drummond tried to comfort himself by imagining that he would report to the police that the boy was entertaining underage girls in his room. If that failed to drive the boy away, Drummond would throw him down the stairs. Drummond told himself that if the matter went to court the judge would surely rule in Drummond's favor since no one should have to put up with what Drummond had put up with from these boys. Even as he told himself these things, Drummond did not take pleasure in his home movie studio. He just sat in the dark and contemplated death.
Archie knew he could pay off the boy's debt and let the boy start over but he knew from past experience that the boy would never be able to stand on his own two feet and Archie would lose his money. Archie didn't like Drummond but he knew Drummond was right about the kid. The kid was no good. He was not going to let the kid come home. He had promised Drummond to get the boy's things out of there but he had only been buying time.
Drummond would have to get a lawyer which would cost him at least $500. He would not want to pay the money so he would prosecute the case himself. The father had had tenants of his own in the past and he knew it was practically impossible for an unskilled person to navigate the tricky waters of a legal eviction. Drummond probably didn't even keep records. The father laughed. The case would be thrown out. This would make it even costlier to hire an attorney to clean up the mess.
It would make a man of his son, too. Jamie needed to stand up to this homosexual bully. This flamer, Drummond, who had demoralized so many boys, would hone the manhood of one of the victims he had intended to emasculate. For the first time in a long time the father looked forward to talking to his son and enjoyed the drive to the jail where he would unveil the plan for his son's redemption.
"Dad, I promise, I don't do drugs." Jamie said to his father from the other side of the glass wall that separated prisoners from visitors.
"Well, your friend does," Archie said. "And he got in a fight with the kid downstairs and Mr. Drummond has kicked both of you out."
"But he can't do that!" Jamie said, and then slumped in his chair. He knew Drummond could make him leave because he was afraid of Drummond.
"You're right, Jamie," Archie said. "He cannot do it and you will not let him. I know you're afraid of him but you can stand up to him and you will stand up to him."
Jamie looked as if he were going to cry.
"What are you afraid of?" Archie said.
"He might throw me down the stairs."
"If he does that he will go to jail. That's not what you are afraid of."
"He might make up stories about me and and tell the police I have done things I haven't done."
"That's right," he said. "You might have to face the authorities and defend yourself against false charges and you are afraid of the authorities. But that's not what you are afraid of. You are afraid of that moment when Mr. Drummond tells you he does not want you there. You are afraid that you will look like an idiot. Drummond knows that about you and he uses it against you. Drummond is a sadistic bully faggot. You are going to stand up to him. Listen to me. It takes three months to evict someone and in three months you will make it your business to get a job and earn the money for your back rent and then no judge will kick you out. You will be able to stay there as long as you want and Drummond can kiss your ass."
Back in his dark room Drummond shuddered. If things got bad the City might come down on his for running an illegal rooming house. He dug himself deeper into his Laz-y-Boy in the pitch black room. He took a big drink of Vodka and contemplated death. He heard a knock at the door. "Who is it?" Drummond shouted.
"It's me," the kid from downstairs said through the door.
"What do you want?" Drummond yelled.
"I want to talk to you," the kid said.
"I want you out!" Drummond said.
"I need to talk to you."
"There's nothing to talk about!" Drummond yelled. "Get out! You got in a fight, you punched a hole in the plaster, you got in a drug deal, you lied about your job and you can't stay here! Take your stuff and get out! Now!"
Drummond's alcoholic rant was too much for the kid. He turned around and went back to his room across the street. He had not gotten the job he had hoped for. He had no money and no food. He was hungry and tired and scared. He went into the kitchen and sat down at the table hoping someone would come in that he could talk to. No one came and he went to the refrigerator and stole a little bit of food from one of the other roomers. He didn't know what else to do.
"Yeah, and there's another kid, isn't there?" Archie said. "A kid downstairs?"
"That's Warren," Jamie said. "He's new too."
"Well, he can be a witness. You can both sue for construction eviction. If that son of a bitch faggot even looks funny at you, you will both get free rent for a year!"