Yamila’s dad was a pervy pollero,
from what her mom remembers.
Yamila, cigarette in mouth, gives Clarissa the finger.
Look, I don’t even know why you’re
wetting your pants over this, it’s
not like your Grandma wants to take
care of your ass anymore. And if
Orlando goes? You should get the
hell out of here while you can.
And leave this?
I wish I could go with you.
Yamila hugs Sayra firmly.
I’ll pray for you.
Sayra and Clarissa continue on, we linger for a moment on
Yamila who sadly watches them walk away. She finishes off
the butt and drops it to the ground.
We pan away from her to catch up to Sayra and Clarissa as
they enter their neighborhood, past vendors, CAT-CALLING BOYS
who they give the finger and soccer playing children.
4A Sayra and Clarissa climb into the room from a window. They 4A
laugh as they fall to the floor-5
INT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS 5
--landing on a stained mattress, half covered with a worn
flower print sheet in a tiny, sparse room with two other
similar mattress on the floor. Clothes, sheets and blankets
sit in tidy piles along the walls.
ORLANDO, 19, Sayra’s almost equal in age Uncle, waits for her
in the room. He has kind eyes, but you can tell he’s
irritated with her. She reacts, shrugging in a “what do you
expect?” kind of way.
Clarissa trips over a BACKPACK. Sayra quickly stuffs it
under a shelf.
We have a front door you know.
Sayra trips Orlando, sweeping his back leg just as he
stumbles into the NEXT ROOM, a compact concrete space that
doubles as a kitchen and a bedroom. The girls try to contain
their laughter before entering. Sayra pauses, her mood
shifts, she looks nervously at Clarissa. To comfort her,
Clarissa presses their foreheads together...
5A The next room -- serious faced Sayra looks around, an old 5A
woman, NANA, glares up at her. Lying on a blanket covered
couch, her sick eyes guide us to a some seats where Orlando
sits down abruptly, next to his pregnant girlfriend, CECI,