June, 1939 – THE FRENCH RIVIERA – HOTEL DU CAP
EXTERIOR – BEACH – DAY
The shore is crowded with people sunbathing and swimming. Dessi and Cal lounge on the sand beneath a large umbrella, both in swimwear typical of the 1930s. Sheet music is spread on the blanket between them, along with a basket of fruit, cheese and wine.
DESSI
Why you gotta write all these sad songs, Cal?
CAL (LAUGHING)
Now you know you lying. Look at this one. It’s happy.
Cal offers her a sheet of music and Dessi rolls her eyes.
DESSI
Gon’ have them poor folks tonight crying in their champagne. This hotel is mighty fine. I’m glad we’re here for a little while.
CAL
We’re lucky. The Hot Club, those students from Paris, want to promote Negro jazz. The band seems to love it here, too, so far.
DESSI (LAUGHING AND HOLDING UP ANOTHER PIECE OF SHEET MUSIC)
The band gon’ get as tired of playing these sad old songs as I am singing ’em. Like this one. “Walk Away?” What made you want to write a song this sad?
DESSI (WATCHING CAL’S EXPRESSION)
And was that boy you?
CAL
I don’t want to talk about it, Dess. You’re right. We need to sing some happy songs for the people tonight. We’re in France on a beach and got nothing to be sad about. Look at all these white folks. Back home, they wouldn’t be caught dead on the beach with us. I wish every Negro could come here. Could see how it feels to be treated like you a human being.
DESSI
You still writing that travel column for The Chicago Defender?
DESSI
Galivanting is what Mama would call it. Galivanting all over Europe. It was reading The Defender that made Daddy want to move to New York. That and our cousins having to buy their own farm three times. Not to mention the lynching.
CAL
Difference is here, they couldn’t make us get up. I’ll never go back South. I was born in North Carolina, but we moved to Chicago when I was a pup. I’m a city boy, Bama. Ain’t that what Tilda calls you?
DESSI
Yeah. She crazy.
DESSI
Nah, and I’m a little worried ’cause it’s been a long time since her last letter. When we were traveling from city to city, it was hard to get mail, but she knows we’re here at the hotel for a while. I’ve written to her, but she . . . I don’t know.
DESSI (LOOKING A LITTLE UNCOMFORTABLE)
We are, yeah.
CAL
Dessi, it’s okay, ya know?
DESSI
What’s okay?
DESSI (STARES AT HIM)
Yeah?
CAL
Yeah.
DESSI (LOOKS AT HER WATCH AND RUBS HER ARMS)
Well, we been out here long enough. My black is burning.
INTERIOR – HOTEL DU CAP – DAY
Dessi and Cal enter the hotel still carrying their beach bag and dressed in swimwear. Concierge at the front desk flags them down.
CONCIERGE
Miss Blue, you have mail.
CAL
Oh, good. She alright? What’s she say?
Dessi’s smile falls and she grips the edge of the hotel front desk for support. A newspaper clipping floats from the letter and lands on the floor. Camera zooms close to show Tilda and a nightclub owner pictured in a wedding announcement. Scribbled at the bottom of the picture are the words “I had to. Forgive me.”
CAL
Oh, Dessi.
Dessi swipes at a few tears, shoving the letter and the newspaper clipping into her beach bag.
CAL
You want to rest for a bit? I can tell the boys we’ll do the same songs. No need to rehearse and give you some time to—
DESSI
No. I don’t need no time.
Dessi digs through the pile of music in the basket until she finds the song she’s looking for.
DESSI (SHOVES THE SONG AT HIM)
We doing this one.
CLOSE ON SHEET MUSIC: Song is “Walk Away”
INTERIOR – HOTEL DU CAP DINING ROOM – NIGHT
Dessi wears an evening gown and stands in a spotlight on the small stage in a roomful of patrons eating and listening. The band plays behind her—piano, saxophone, drums, and Cal on trumpet. With tears in her eyes, she sings “Walk Away.”
