TEAM DETROIT – PART ONE
OPENING SCENE: A moving truck is drives up to a house in the suburbs. A tall teenage boy with dark hair is sitting on the front steps. He wears a bandanna, t-shirt, army pants, and sneakers and has a flannel shirt tied around his waist. As the truck backs in, he calls into the house.
BOY: Dad! The truck from New York is here.
The boy's father comes out of the house. After talking to the driver, he joins the boy, who helps open the back of the truck.
BOY: I still wish we could've gone to New York to get everything.
DAD: Sorry, Rob. But there just wasn't any time..or money…for us to go all the way to New York.
ROB: (grabs a box) I know. I just wish I could've seen my friends. They don't even know I'm back in the country.
DAD: (grabs a box) I guess you'll just have to write to Lenni then.
Rob frowns at his dad.
ROB: (carrying box inside) To Hector, Dad. Lenni doesn't write to me anymore.
Rob's father raises his eyebrows and follows him inside.
CUT TO: Mitchell's Compter Café and Repairs. A tall, blond, teenage boy is behind the counter, which is littered with various electronic parts. He's working on a circuit board and looks up when Rob comes in.
BOY: Can I help you?
ROB: I sure hope so. puts bag on the counter My laptop won't boot up takes out laptop and I have two years of work saved on it.
The boy nods as Rob puts the laptop on the counter. He looks at it and shakes his head.
BOY: You want to save the laptop…or just your files?
ROB: It's the files that are important. I got a two hundred page mystery novel on there…and really really don't want to start over.
BOY: I don't blame you. File recovery is $19.95…if I can find it.
ROB: That much?
BOY: Sorry. (points to himself) Poor Craig Mitchell has to make a living.
ROB: (points to himself) And poor Rob Baker only has ten bucks.
Craig gives Rob a look. Rob sighs and gives a nod.
ROB: Guess I'm gonna have to borrow from Dad…and go out for sports.
CRAIG: Sports?
ROB: Yep. Dad only loans out money with a catch. And he's been after me again to try out for baseball.
CRAIG: Ah. Well uh…would he settle for basketball?
ROB: (raises an eyebrow) Basketball?
CRAIG: Yeah. You're tall enough for it…and I'm trying out too. Made Junior Varsity last year.
ROB: (nods) Well the old man isn't too picky about which sport it is. I'll give it a shot.
CRAIG: Cool. If you're free tomorrow, we can meet in the park for some practice.
ROB: (gives a nod) I guess I can do that. Thanks, Craig.
CRAIG: No sweat. You going to leave this here?
ROB: (picks up bag) Might as well. Dang thing is heavy. It'll be nice to switch to paper for a while.
Craig laughs and Rob leaves the shop.
CUT TO: The park. Craig is playing basketball as Rob comes up on a skateboard. He leans it up against the fence and hangs up his bag before joining Craig.
CRAIG: All right. You know how to play 21?
ROB: I think so. Just play to 21 points, right?
CRAIG: (passes him the ball) That's right. Let's see what you got.
Rob and Craig play for a while but Rob isn't very good.
CRAIG: Guess you don't really go for sports much.
ROB: Not really. Sports take up a lot of time…and I got books to write. And if I have to start all over again…
CRAIG: (holds ball under his arm and pats Rob on the back) Don't worry. I'll get your files back…and I'll even see if I can salvage the machine. Laptops aren't cheap.
ROB: (leans against the fence) Tell me about it. I only got that one because my folks made me move to Australia…and had to give me a BIG consolation gift.
CRAIG: (leans next to Rob) No kidding? So where are you actually from?
ROB: (crosses arms) The air force. Name the base…I've lived there. Oklahoma, Texas, Guam, Florida…
CRAIG: There's an air force base in Australia though?
ROB: No. Dad finally retired…and we were actually living in Brooklyn so he could work for the VA. But then Mom got the job in Australia just when I was thinking we weren't going to move around anymore.
CRAIG: Huh. I got to live in Brooklyn once too. But moved after only a couple weeks when the deal on our house fell through. Had to go back to Long Island…and moved here a year later.
ROB: Wow. Only two weeks?
CRAIG: Yep. Already started school…was just starting to make friends…whole nine yards.
ROB: And I thought I had it bad. What school were you at?
CRAIG: Hurston Middle School. Eighth grade.
ROB: Hey cool. I went there for seventh. Best year of my life.
Craig raises his eyebrows but then looks over Rob's shoulder.
CRAIG: HEY!
Rob spins around as a kid on a dirt bike takes his bag from the fence and zooms away.
ROB: HEY! COME BACK HERE!