SCENE 1, INTERIOR. LATE AFTERNOON, FIFTH GRADE CLASSROOM. The teacher is dismissing the class for the day. As the students file out they attempt to give him a ‘high five.’ This is made more challenging as the teacher is standing on a chair and his hand is approximately eight feet from the floor. The students attempt to slap his hand; if unsuccessful, the teacher provides a lower ‘high five’ for them. In a few moments, all students have left the room—save one.
JOEY: Mr. Z?
TEACHER: What’s up, Joey?
JOEY: I have an owie.
TEACHER: An owie?
[The teacher looks at the boy's finger but cannot see anything wrong with it.]
TEACHER: Do you need a band-aid?
[The boy shakes his head].
TEACHER: Well, what do you want me to do, kiss it better?
JOEY: Will it help?
TEACHER: Probably not.
[The boy holds his finger with his other hand].
JOEY: What would you do to make it better if it were you?
TEACHER: If it hurts I’d run cold water over it.
[The teacher motions to the drinking fountain at the back of the classroom].
JOEY: Could I have some ice instead?
TEACHER: You'd have to go to the office for ice, Joey.
JOEY: Don't you have any?
[The teacher glances around the room, it is obvious that he does not have any ice with him, yet the boy still stands there expectantly.].
TEACHER: Sure, here…just let me reach into my heart and get you a piece.
[The teacher pantomimes taking a piece of ice from his chest and extends his empty hand to the student who stares at the empty palm for several seconds. After a silent beat, the boy reaches out and takes the piece of invisible ‘ice.’].
JOEY: So that’s where you keep it…
TEACHER: It’s gotta be someplace it’s not gonna melt…
JOEY: Good choice, Mr. Z. [The boy pretends to put the ice on his finger and sighs long and deep]. Ah, now that’s better…
Fade to black.