Raphaels home at a rubbish tip out in the desert where its hotter than hell. He is forever writing things in his notebook as a record for the future. He looks towards the caravan and whats inside of it.
Raphael is an alcoholic and has just been released from prison after a three year stretch. He needs some dutch courage before he goes inside and faces his family.
Luckily all is peaceful and his family is sleeping.
He decides to make a coffee for Rita before he leaves for town until he feels piercing eyes from the bed behind him.
No words are spoken at all, just looks from Father and Son. Frankie can remember Raphael from 3 years ago, but struggles with what will happen now that hes back.
Still no words are spoken and Frankie gives up and goes back to sleep.
Raphael is relieved that nothing has been said and makes the coffee silently. He puts it beside his wife and walks to the bus stop.
More writing until the bus arrives.
The bus trip to town, hot and dusty, then Raphael sees something from the window.
A housing estate, the reason for his trip to town, a house for his family.
Freedos, the bar he frequents, closed, he has to do this on his own, with no alcohol.
OK the address is correct, Now is Raphael brave enough to enter?
The definitive decision is made with the help of a cigarette.
Raphael stops stalling and gets it over with.
The staircase to his familys future and Larry talking in the background as he walks in.
R: I'm here about the job.
L: And what job is that ?
R: Maybe I'm in the wrong place.
L: It depends.
R: On what ?
L: Whether or not you're in the right place.
R: Are you the guy I'm supposed to see?
L: Well I don't know, who told you about me ?
R: Some guy in the bar.
L: Who ? When ? Where ?
R: The other day
Guy sitting in chair interrupts.
G: Whizzey ?
L: You're going to have to do better than that.
R: He gave me this here and said...
Raphael glances at the guy sitting in chair
R: He said you were looking for somebody with a special kind of talent.
Raphael hands over piece of paper and Larry snatches it
out of his hand and then gives him a sacastic smile.
R: Mind if I smoke ?
L: Its your life.
L: What guy ? Which bar ?
R: Freedos on Sixth street.
L: You go there a lot do you?
R: Sometimes.
L: Been drinking ?
R: No why ?
L: Well sometimes you Indians have been known to
take a drink or two.
G: Whizzey ?