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Important notice: All excerpts have been submitted by the author.

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Author: Diana Fox
*Author's note: These scenes are mid-way through the story. The logline for this story is:
When a Christmas non-believer, anal-organized, school principal, widower learns he has to cut 20% of his school budget, plus eliminate the school pageant, which his 10-year-old daughter just won the lead, and which old school buddy Carole directs, he's torn between keeping his job, doing what's right, their match-making daughters, falling in love, Santa, and an age-old reindeer with seemingly magic powers.



EXT. FIELD - DAY - A WEEK LATER

Charlie and Carole are tramping through the grass, heading for the pine trees in the distance ahead. The girls and Carole are dressed for the job--jeans, hiking shoes or sneakers, T-shirts. Charlie looks like he's ready for the office--all that's missing is a tie and jacket.

Rainey and Lindy are romping ahead of them, pretending to throw snowballs, giggling, chasing each other.

Carole carries a small axe and a coiled rope over her shoulder.

The sun is shining brightly.

CHARLIE How did I let you talk me into this?

CAROLE Because Christmas isn't Christmas unless there's a tree in the house. Where else would the presents go? Rainey and I do this every year.

CHARLIE I don't know if I'm up to this.

CAROLE You've got to. For Lindy's sake. Look at her.

He looks ahead at his daughter, at both the girls.

CHARLIE It's almost as if her mother never died, as if we never went through that dark time.

CAROLE Usually, children are resilient.

Carole looks at Charlie from head to toe.

CAROLE (continuing) I would have thought you'd wear something more appropriate.

As they talk, Carole is inspecting the trees they pass.

CHARLIE Like what? Boots with curl-up toes, and a funny little hat with bells on it?

CAROLE (laughing) That's a start. Actually, I was thinking of something more durable. Like play clothes. Jeans.

CHARLIE I don't own any jeans.

CAROLE No jeans? You're kidding?

CHARLIE As serious as a Roledex. You need one by the way. Your address book is a mess.

CAROLE Touch my address book and die.

CHARLIE What's so difficult about picking out a tree?

CAROLE Nothing.

CHARLIE So pick one.

CAROLE It has to be the right one. It's what we do after we've picked it out that's fun.

CHARLIE I have a feeling it has something to do with this ax. You didn't tell me I'd be playing Paul Bunyun.

CAROLE (smiling sweetly) You won't be. I'll be Paulette.

EXT. IN THE PINE TREES

Charlie is kneeling in the dirt at the base of a full, medium sized tree not much taller than he is, the ax in hand, ready to start chopping.

CAROLE Sure you don't want me to do that?

CHARLIE And take me away from all this fun? How long does it take to chop down one itty bitty tree?

EXT. IN THE PINE TREES - LATER

Charlie pauses, resting, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, unaware he's rubbing a streak of dirt across this face.

The sky has turned cloudy. We hear THUNDER. A minute later they're in a downpour.

The two girls literally are lapping up the rain.

Carole grins at them, looking skyward herself, enjoying the rain.

CAROLE Let me chop for a while.

CHARLIE No way. I want to enjoy this fun to the fullest. Another minute or two and it'll be toppled.

CAROLE No one asked you to do all the work. No need to be a hero on my account.

Charlie is ready to take a swing at the tree, when something in the distance, among the trees, catches his eye.

It's the reindeer, standing there facing Charlie. Then it's gone.

He looks around. The girls are busy and didn't notice. He knows she saw it. She arches an eyebrow at him.

Frowning, he goes back to chopping.

EXT. FIELD

Charlie stands, grimacing as he works out the kinks.

CHARLIE (his hand cupping his mouth) TIMBER!

With a slight crack, the tree falls.

CAROLE I still think we ought to get your tree today too.

CHARLIE No way. One a day is my limit. Besides, we wouldn't want to endanger the forest.

EXT. FIELD - DAY

The sun in shining again.

The two girls are dragging the tree by the rope trailing behind Charlie and Carole.

Everyone is soaked, but Charlie looks like he's been through the wringer. His knees are black, and he's looking totally unkempt.

Carole looks and him and chuckles.

CHARLIE Not one word.

Laughter fills the woods.

INT. CAROLE'S UPSTAIRS HALLWAY OUTSIDE BATHROOM DOOR

The door is opened a crack and she's pushing some dry clothes through the crack.

CAROLE Here's some clothes, Charlie.

Charlie's hand reaches out. The clothes disappear. His hand reappears with his wet things.

CAROLE (continuing) I'll go put these in the washer. Come on downstairs when you're dressed. The girls are making hot chocolate.

CHARLIE (O.S.) Whose clothes are these?

CAROLE The shirt's mine, the sweatpants belonged to my ex-husband. Why?

CHARLIE Isn't there anything else?

CAROLE Not big enough to fit you.

A groan comes from the bathroom.

Carole walks away grinning.

INT. CAROLE'S KITCHEN

The girls are at the stove talking and taking turns stirring the hot chocolate. Carole is getting cups out of the cupboard.

Charlie walks in the room. All three women stop what they're doing and study Charlie. You can tell they're all trying real hard not to laugh, maintaining serious expressions.

Charlie looks down at his wardrobe. He's wearing a T-shirt, while big on Carole is snug on him. Across his chest it says: I'M SUFFERING FROM PMS AND PROUD OF IT. The sweatpants are short.

CHARLIE What?

LINDY Nothing, Daddy.

RAINEY You look good, Mr. Dickson.

CAROLE Real good.

CHARLIE What can I do to help?

CAROLE There's some cookies in the cupboard behind you.

Charlie turns. The back of Charlie's shirt reads: BITE ME. The three woman can't hold back any more. Laughter fills the room. ©1997 ***

*About the author: I confess. I never grew up wanting to be a writer. I was twenty-eight with two babies before I realized what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. With no formal writing education other than high school English classes and a love for reading, I set out to tell my stories. From a weekly Erma-Bombeckish newspaper column, to magazines, then to books and screenplays, I've found my niche. Heartfelt stories about real people. They're real to me. They stand behind me, the hero behind one shoulder, the heroine behind the other, teasing, laughing, fighting, loving, sometimes with both of them talking at the same time. They make me laugh, they make me cry. I'm just they're fingers on the keyboard transcribing their story. I hope their story makes you laugh and cry too.

NEW BEGINNINGS is Diana's third book, her second for Avalon. She has three production companies looking at her family script, CHARLIE'S CHRISTMAS CAROLE. In addition to her writing, she teaches creative writing at Georgia's Bainbridge College. She'd love to hear from you. Write to Diana Fox. Check out Diana Fox's website.

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