Another Deleted Scene

So, here’s another deleted scene from Courage to Change. This one really pained me to cut. I still love it – I love getting a better glimpse of Marshall and of the “tougher” side of Phil. But at the end of the day, it didn’t really add all that much to the story and we were trying to streamline. This took place right after the break-in at Allison’s apartment when it was written.

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Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Phil waited for the light to change. When it was green, he wrenched the wheel to the left, to the annoyance of the car in the next lane, and decided to see how good his memory was.

An hour later, Phil pulled into a parking lot outside a rundown grocery store in a considerably less affluent area of the Maryland suburbs. Taking care to lock his car, he grabbed a cart from the corral and walked toward the doors. Might as well get a little shopping done while he was here.

The lights that were still working flickered randomly, creating a dim and slightly creepy atmosphere. They also added to the overall sense of dinginess. Phil quickly changed his mind about shopping and headed directly for the customer service desk, noting with surprise the bank-like plastic enclosure around it. He pressed the buzzer and waited.

A young man with hair bleached almost white, wearing his jeans belted low around his hips with a basketball jersey tucked haphazardly into it came out from the back room. His eyes met Phil’s and grew wide. Shaking his head, he began to back up.

Phil rapped on the Plexiglas. “Marshall.”

Marshall stopped and seemed to consider his options. Already one cashier had turned to see what was happening. Stuffing his hands in his pockets and taking on a visible air of belligerence, he came to the window. “What d’you want?”

“You want to have this conversation here? Or can you take five?” Phil glanced over his shoulder at the cashier and smiled.

Marshall jerked his head toward the front door and hollered toward the back room, “I’ll be back in ten.”

When they were out front, Marshall crossed his arms and stared at Phil.

“Where is she, Marshall?”

He shrugged.

“I’m wasting my time, aren’t I?” Phil shook his head. “I’ll be going. I’ll let the detectives know where to find you. Maybe you’ll be more inclined to talk to them.” He made it two steps toward his car before Marshall spoke.

“Look. I don’t know. I got her bail, we were figurin’ things out. She got mad when I cleaned up, then she decides to try rehab. She traded me the condo for a rehab stint, but she knocked out of there after just a few days. Made me mad, so I wouldn’t let her back in. I wanna keep my job, I gotta stay clean. But I wanna keep her, too, so,” he shrugged, “bail money. Then she says we hafta scram out of the condo, so we do. She goes her way, I go mine, ‘til the heat’s off.”

Phil turned and raised an eyebrow. “Then what?”

“She sez she’ll call me. So I figger I might as well work. I want new rims for my car.” Marshall narrowed his eyes and jerked his chin. “She sez you’re the one hassling her, so why’s she the one in jail?”

Phil snorted. “You believe that? Come on, Marshall. Get real. She broke into my house. She vandalized my car.” He frowned, considering his ex’s current husband. “I’m guessing you were there for that.” When Marshall flinched, Phil nodded. “Now she’s broken into my girlfriend’s apartment and done more damage. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m not sure I care. But if you talk to her, tell her it needs to stop.” He turned to go.

“Wait.” Marshall kicked at a loose rock in the pavement. “What’s her phone number worth to you?”

Phil thought fast. He couldn’t lowball or he knew the deal would disappear as quickly as it came, but he hated to give money to someone when he knew it wouldn’t be used for anything legal. “How much for the new rims?”

“They’re four hundred. Each.”

Digging out his wallet, Phil looked inside. “There’s an ATM in the store?” When Marshall nodded, Phil pulled out five twenties. “I’ll cover one rim. Here’s a hundred.”

Marshall pocketed the cash. “Get the rest. I’ll write it down.”

Phil went back into the store. He emerged a few minutes later with a wad of cash. Still holding one side, he held it out to Marshall and stuck out his other hand for the phone number. Marshall pulled the pen from behind his ear and wrote ten digits onto Phil’s palm. After checking that they were at least for a local number, Phil let go of the cash. “This doesn’t pan out, it won’t be me coming back here to talk to you, Marshall. Do Brandi and yourself a favor and keep quiet.”

With another shrug, Marshall went back into the store, hitching up his pants as he walked. Phil sighed and called Grant, so he could pass the phone number along to the police.