All Our Troubles


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Scene Title All Our Troubles
Synopsis Jennifer Chesterfield tracks down Doctor Zimmerman to California.
Date May 8, 2009

Zimmerman Residence, Reseda California

Bright sunlight filters down in thin rays in the spaces between dusty panels of yellowed blinds. Outside, the hot spring air ripples in waves off of the pavement, though the interior temperature in this darkened building is far cooler. A static pop and hiss comes from a record player running on a high shelf, surrounded by old photographs covered in a thin layer of dust and cobwebs.

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away…

Seated in an old, musty armchair, a weary looking old man in a wrinkled white shirt stares at one of those photographs from the shelf, one he's taken the time to pull down and clean off. With a thoughtful and distant stare, the old man's eyes wander the people in the frame, head slowly shaking from side to side once his eyes settle on a young and smiling blonde woman.

Now it looks as though there here to stay

A knock at the front door jerks the old man's focus from the photograph, eyes blinking back an emotional response as he lifts up his glasses and brushes fingers over his eyes. Slowly rising up from his chair, one hand shakily steadies himself on the armrest. Setting the picture down on the seat, he begins to make his way towards the door, feet shuffling over scuffed wood underfoot.

Oh I believe in yesterday

Undoing the chain, two deadbolts and the knob lock, the door slowly cracks open. Squinting to take in the details of the woman standing on the other side of the door, the old man's eyes weakly adjust to the sudden change in illumination. As his world comes back into focus, the brunette standing with a painted smile on his stoop makes his heart sink into the pit of his stomach the moment recognition dawns on him.

Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be

Pushing all of his weight against the door, the old man turns sharply and runs as fast as he can away. Before the door has a chance to slam, though, a foot is kicked into it, sending it flinging open into the house to leave a dent in the drywall with a loud crash. Reaching into her blazer as she walks in, the middle-aged woman removes a gun from an under-arm holster, training her sights on the old man until he narrowly winds around a corner into the kitchen.

There's a shadow hanging over me

Skidding on the linoleum in his socks, the old man tries to come to an abrupt stop when he sees the back door open, and a young blonde man standing behind the kitchen table, reaching inside of his jacket. Panic sets in, and the old man abruptly turns around, only to hear the click of heels on the wood floor, and the dark silhouette of the brunette woman coming around the corner, gun drawn.

Oh yesterday came suddenly

There's a crackling pop from the boxy pistol she carries as a pair of darts attached to coiled wires shoot out and stick into the old man's shoulder, sending him crumpling to the ground as his arms and legs kick wildly, neck muscles tensing and eyes going wide. The blonde man frowns slightly, tucking his gun away into his jacket as he clears the distance, crouching down by the man's side to check his pulse once the electrical current stops.

Why she had to go

There's a nod as he pulls away those two fingers, and the brunette then tucks away her taser gun as well. A cell phone is withdrawn in its place, flipped open and pressed up to one ear as her hand tucks wavy brown locks back. Silence hangs in the house, all save for the popping crackle of the turntable continuing to play it's old melody.

I don't know she wouldn't say

"Arthur," the brunette says with a growing smile and a chipper tone to her voice, "yes, we found him." Her eyes dip down to peer at the old man through the lenses of her glasses. "Lewis wasn't very cooperative, however, and we had to handle things a little roughly." Her brows both raise, followed by a mostly genuine laugh. "Oh, goodness, no. He's perfectly fine," her eyes focus back on the young man crouched by her target's side. "He was quite a help."

I said something wrong now I long for yesterday

The young blonde turns Lewis Zimmerman over, retrieving plastic zip-ties from inside of his suit jacket, pulling them taut around the old man's wrists to bind him in place. There's a curious look given as Trent's eyes track up from Zimmerman to the photographs hanging in frames around his apartment, recognizing the smiling blonde woman in most of them – or so it would seem.

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play

"We'll be on the first flight back to New Jersey as soon as we tie up a couple of loose ends here." Jennifer glances down to Trent, then follows his line of sight up to the photographs. There's a hitch in her voice, brows scrunching together as she takes a few slow steps across the floor towards one of them, eyeing the same blonde woman Trent had been earlier.

Now I need a place to hide away

"Arthur…" Jennifer states in a hushed tone of voice, leaning in to squint at the picture, "while I'm here, could you forward all of our files on Niki Sanders to my blackberry?" There's a tilt of her head to one side, looking at the woman again, then angling her focus towards Trent, that brow staying raised. "Oh—no particular reason," she answers into the phone with a feigned innocence and a warm smile that only Trent can see, "let's just call it a hunch."

Oh I believe in yesterday.

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