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The Memory Forge
The Memory Forge is an original short screenplay written by Amelia Bartlett for The Craft Issue. Screenplays are traditionally presented in courier font with specific formatting that communicates the details of each scene, including setting, actions, character names and dialogue. The photos here share the screenplay in its intended format as you can see it in the print and digital editions of The Craft Issue. The screenplay text is also shared below for reading.
The Memory Forge
While boxing up her grandfather’s attic, an estranged granddaughter uncovers a memory strong enough to call her by name.
FADE IN:
INT. BEDROOM - MORNING
A large tabby cat purrs, kneading its paws atop a slowly waking CLEMENTINE “TINA” BAXTER (30s, long curly hair spilling from under bedsheets). She emerges from the covers and tugs a sweater from the bedpost around her shoulders.
Tina walks to the window and lifts it open. A sweeping vista of the Great Smoky Mountains gazes over the woods bordering the farmhouse’s modest yard.
She takes a deep breath and looks down to see a honeysuckle bush in bloom beneath the windowsill.
Tires crunch on gravel in the distance, and Tina turns to see a moving truck on the long driveway.
INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
Tina ENTERS kitchen in her pajama tank top and leggings with the buttons of her sweater off by one. She swipes her quietly vibrating phone from the counter, and the screen shows a 5:15am alarm, almost three hours overdue. She opens the door—
EXT. YARD - CONTINUOUS
An expansive lawn in need of a mow stretches out to a nearby outbuilding and the property’s acreage of woods. The moving truck creaks to stop in front of Tina who stands on the deck.
STOKLEY “STOKES” BIRD (30s, tall and sturdy) jumps out of the truck’s cab and directly begins to open the loading door.
STOKES
“Morning, Clem.”
TINA
(confused)
“It’s Tina—”
The loud SNAP of the open hatch cuts her off. Stokes brings an
armful of boxes out. Tina sees his face.
TINA (CONT’D)
“Stokes?”
STOKES
“The very same.”
He turns back to unload more boxes and Tina appraises him, her nerdy tween summer fling, all grown up now.
STOKES (CONT’D)
(from behind boxes)
“The realtor’s comin’ by later this afternoon. Figure I’ll start on the forge and you can take the attic. Anything you want to keep, just set aside in your room so I don’t load it up. That work for you?”
Their eyes meet. His face is kind, detached. Tina nods.
INT. ATTIC - LATER
The windows illuminate walls lined by shelves with stacks of boxes, trunks, luggage and orphaned furniture clustered with trinkets, ephemera and 50 years of nostalgic detritus.
Tina’s socked feet are silent but for the floor creaks.
She shines her phone flashlight into a shadowy cardboard beer flat filled with small hand tools and keys. A sudden SCRAPE wrests the silence as Tina stubs her toe on—
Tina picks up the handmade rusty metal dog statue and studies it, then smiles in recognition. She unfolds her right palm to reveal a thin scar. She pets the dog’s sharp-edged ear with her wounded hand, near inscribed: For Clem, love Papaw 1999.
She places the dog in an empty moving box, stacks in a few other items at random, then a stack of simple cast iron teacups. From the back of the shelf, Tina pulls a child-size cast iron teapot which she holds up to the window light.
Where the maker’s mark should be reads: C L E M
Tina’s breath catches and she moves to put the teapot in the moving box but stops, then redirects it to the windowsill. Moments pass before a light hissing sound catches Tina’s attention. The teapot at the window, against a backdrop of the Smokies, puffs a gentle tendril of steam from its spout.
Tina reaches for the teapot. It’s warm to the touch. She opens the lid with her sweater sleeve and steam releases. The hiss of boiling water becomes a distant rushing. Tina inhales, smelling...? As she nears the teapot, sounds of falling water, woodsy birdsong and crinkling leaves get louder and fill her senses. She blinks.
When she opens her eyes—
EXT. GREAT SMOKY MOUNTAINS - TRAIL - DAY
Tina finds herself in the same seated position from the attic, as though magically teleported to this trail.
Birds, crickets and the bristle of wind through leaves fills her senses, with rushing water becoming apparent last.
The teapot rests between a couple roots in front of her with its small iron top still in her hand.
Tina rises and cautiously collects the teapot. She WALKS toward the water, down a wooded trail that opens into—
EXT. GREAT SMOKY MOUNTAINS - WATERFALL - CONTINUOUS
Tina emerges from the trail to reveal a waterfall cascading into a small split-rock-lined swimming hole.
GIGGLES from an out-of-sight YOUNG CLEM (8 - 9) draw Tina’s attention to the other side of the pool.
YOUNG CLEM
(laughing)
“Come on, Papaw! Tea time!”
Young Clem, who appears almost real but with a dreamlike haze around her, RACES up to the edge of the pool with the same teapot Tina holds in her hand. Young Clementine holds the lid in the same hand as Tina.
Before Young Clem reaches the pool, PAPAW (50s) dashes up wearing a worn tee shirt with jeans, complete with workingman rips and burns, and a dreamlike haze around him.
He swings a handmade ribbed basket that clatters with cast iron teacups and snags the back of her overalls to prevent her getting too close to the water. He chuckles and takes the teapot from her grasp.
Tina watches this interaction, mesmerized by her younger self. She kneels down to sit near Young Clem by the pool.
A loud woodpecker KNOCK KNOCKS in a tree nearby, but Tina ignores it. She gets close enough to Papaw that he should notice, but he doesn’t acknowledge her.
Papaw kneels down and dips the teapot into the water, filling it from the pool. He hands it to Young Clementine settles down with the heavy iron kettle handle in both hands.
PAPAW
“What do I always say?”
The woodpecker KNOCK KNOCKS again and Tina turns toward the sound with a squint, seeking the bird. She blinks—
INT. ATTIC - SIMULTANEOUS
Seated in the same position, Tina blinks and turns toward the knocks on the attic door. Stokes’ voice gravels through the door, which he cracks, then LEANS IN.
STOKES (O.C.)
“Clem? Sorry, Tina?”
Tina looks down to see the teapot is full and the iron is warm to the touch. She puts its top back in place.
Stokes pushes the door open and catches sight of the teapot, then Tina’s socks.
STOKES (CONT’D)
(bashful)
“Waterfalls make the best tea.”
The memory strikes Tina and she laughs. Stokes isn’t sure if it’s with him or at him, but he smiles nonetheless.
Tina looks around at the almost nonexistent progress she’s made, then down at the mementos scattered around her. She notices her socks are damp and have leaves stuck to their bottoms. She SCRAMBLES to her feet.
She starts to speak then stops herself, unsure what to say.
STOKES (CONT’D)
“Gonna go get lunch, y’wanna come?”