The First Thanksgiving

OPENING TITLES
Muf led autumnal music in.
INT. THIRD-GRADE CLASSROOM – DAY
A haphazardly glued hand turkey lies on a wooden desk. ERIC, 8, reaches to grab it. He shoves it in his
backpack and zips it. Dozens of students stream out the open doorway.
TEACHER: Have a good break! Remember to do your homework!
Eric follows behind the crowd of children. He’s one of the last to leave.
INT./EXT. KELLY’S CAR – DAY
Autumnal music is coming from the car radio. KELLY, 34, a Chinese immigrant, sits behind the wheel.
She bobs her head and occasionally sings along—a rough approximation of the lyrics.
Kelly notices students emerging into the parking lot area. She rolls down the window to look for Eric and
sees him alone. Clusters of friends weave around him, briefly obscuring him as he searches the car line
for Kelly.
Dialogue in Mandarin is underlined.
KELLY: (shouting) Eric! Over here!
Eric perks up and trudges over.
KELLY: How was school?
ERIC: Good.
Long pause. Kelly waits.
KELLY: Just good? Any fun stories?
ERIC: No.
KELLY: How about your classmates?
ERIC: I dunno. We don’t talk much.

KELLY: Hasn’t it been a month? Maybe you should make more of an effort with them. Once we move
into our new house, you can try inviting some friends over.
ERIC: Okay.
Kelly drives through the neighborhood. She looks in the rearview mirror twice, about to make
conversation, then seems to think better of it. Eric stares out the window.
ERIC: Will it be big enough for Baba to move in with us?
KELLY: Yeah, of course.
EXT. APARTMENT PARKING LOT – DAY
ERIC slams the car door shut. Kelly hurries to gather her purse.
KELLY (calling after him): Wait, Eric! Don’t run off so fast!
She jogs to their apartment building, where Eric has disappeared up the apartment stairwell. As Kelly
turns the corner, she runs into MRS. REEDY, 48, who was carrying a box of canned food. Mrs. Reedy
loses her grip on the box.
KELLY: Ah!
MRS. REEDY: Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, are you alright?
KELLY: Sorry! Sorry! I am running too fast. Sorry.
KELLY squats to help pick up the cans.
MRS. REEDY: Oh, it’s okay. No harm done!
KELLY (muttering): Sorry. Sorry.
Mrs. Reedy piles the items precariously in the box and hefts it up.
MRS. REEDY: Happy almost Thanksgiving!
KELLY: Happy… Happy thank you. Yes. Thank you.
Mrs. Reedy pauses, then smiles politely.
INT. APARTMENT – DAY

The apartment door swings open to reveal a plain, undecorated home. The furniture is sparse, Ikea-grade.
Stacks of cardboard boxes occupy each corner of the living room.
Kelly flicks on the light switch as Eric rushes past her into the apartment. He flings his backpack onto the
kitchen counter and joins his mini iPad on the couch.
KELLY: Shouldn’t you do homework first?
ERIC: (grumbling) Just ten minutes.
Kelly rummages through Eric’s backpack, extracting broken crayons and misplaced paper. The hand
turkey falls onto the table, along with a blank Thanksgiving worksheet. She picks them up.
KELLY: Eric, what’s this?
Eric looks up from his iPad.
ERIC: That’s just homework for “Thanksgiving.”
KELLY: What? Oh! That’s… the holiday this week?
ERIC: Yeah. Thursday.
Kelly squints at the homework assignment: a packet with questions and activities related to Thanksgiving.
She flips it over. The last page is a journal assignment. At the top, printed in big bold letters, are the
words: “Tell a fun story about your Thanksgiving experience! Prepare to share with the class on
Monday!”
KELLY: What if you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving?
Eric shrugs. His eyes remain glued to the screen. Kelly painstakingly types “Thanksgiving” into her
phone and reads translated articles. Faint gaming sounds drift from the couch.
INT./EXT. KELLY’S CAR – DAY
Kelly places her phone on the dashboard and opens her GPS app, searching for the nearest grocery store.
One hand on the gear shift, other hand on the wheel, she takes a deep breath.
The car slowly rolls out of the parking spot.
INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY

Eric looks up from his game and watches Kelly’s car leave the neighborhood. Through the frame of the
glass balcony doors, Eric’s CLASSMATE, 8, comes into view. He is dribbling a basketball on the
sidewalk.
Eric abandons his game to press his forehead against the balcony door. Eric’s classmate walks next to a
tall man with similar features, probably his DAD (40s). He shows his son how to spin a basketball on one
finger.
INT. KITCHEN – LATER
The apartment door unlocks and swings open, revealing Kelly standing in the hallway. Her shoulders sag
under the weight of four plastic grocery bags.
Eric sits at the kitchen counter doing math homework. He looks up.
ERIC: Mama, can—
Kelly’s phone rings, cutting Eric of . It’s her real estate agent.
KELLY: Hold on just a sec. Hi, Mr. Horace? (Pause.) Ah, yes. I am— (A longer pause.) Okay, thank you.
I going to talk with my, ah… my husband. Yes, by tomorrow. Okay. Thank you.
She ends the call and looks at Eric expectantly.
KELLY: Did you want something?
ERIC: Can you teach me basketball?
KELLY: Basketball? Aren’t there basketball lessons at school? I can sign you up.
ERIC: I don’t want to do the school program.
KELLY: Why not? You’ll be able to make friends!
ERIC: I want to get good at basketball first.
KELLY: Well… Mama doesn’t know how to play basketball. But I can find a private basketball coach for
you. Would that be fine?
ERIC: Um, I guess… fine.
KELLY: Okay! I’ll search online for local coaches. Hopefully, you’ll be able to start next week. Sounds
good?

INT. KITCHEN – DAY
Kelly wrestles with a giant turkey in the sink. She should have thawed it longer. Just then, she gets a
FaceTime call from her husband, SHAO (30s).
Kelly clicks the answer button and waves at the camera.
KELLY: Hi honey! I was just about to call you. How was work?
SHAO: (yawning) Exhausting, as usual. Hey, isn’t it a bit late to be making breakfast? Eric’s at school by
now, right?
KELLY: His school is on break.
SHAO: A break? Already? It’s barely been two weeks since he started!
KELLY: Some American holiday. Thanksgiving.
SHAO: What do you do? Give thanks?
KELLY: Pretty much. It’s all about being grateful.
SHAO: That’s it?
KELLY: (sighing) No. Apparently, you’re also supposed to have a family dinner with a big turkey. And
people need to fly home. Must be expensive.
SHAO: Is that the turkey in the sink?
KELLY: Yeah. I thought I should at least make an effort to be American.
ERIC: Is that Baba?
Shao turns to see Eric standing in pajamas in his bedroom doorway. Their conversation woke him up.
KELLY: Good morning, Eric! Want to come say hello?
ERIC: Good morning, Baba.
KELLY: It’s “good night.” It’s almost 12 in Shanghai, remember?
ERIC: Oh, right! 12? That’s so late! I want to stay up until 12 too.
KELLY: I’ll let you do that on your 13th birthday.

ERIC: But that’s so far away! You’re no fun.
KELLY: You can complain later. Baba has to sleep soon.
She exits the kitchen to use the restroom, leaving Eric alone with her phone.
ERIC: Baba, do you know how to play basketball?
SHAO: Your Baba was a basketball pro!
ERIC: Really?
Shao: (chuckling) No, definitely not. I’m not very tall. My aim was pretty good though.
ERIC: But you still know how to play.
SHAO: Yeah.
ERIC: Then can you teach me someday?
SHAO: Sure. When I come visit, I’ll teach you all my tricks.
ERIC: Okay! When are you visiting?
SHAO: Probably in the spring. Baba has to take care of work first.
ERIC: Spring? But that’s so far away.
Kelly comes back.
KELLY: Eric, you know Baba’s busy. He will visit whenever he can.
SHAO: You heard your mother! I will visit as soon as possible.
INT. KITCHEN – LATER
Realizing that the turkey needs more thawing, Kelly wraps it back up and puts it in the fridge. Eric sits at
the kitchen counter doing homework. He’s kicking his feet and more focused on Kelly than his vocabulary
homework.
KELLY: What are you doing? Get back to work. The sooner you finish the sooner you can play.
ERIC: (mumbling) It’s too hard.

KELLY: What?
ERIC: (louder) It’s too hard.
Kelly wipes her hands on a kitchen towel and circles to the other side of the counter.
KELLY: English?
ERIC: No, it’s actually Chinese.
Kelly processes the joke then glares at Eric. She flicks him lightly on the forehead.
ERIC: Ow!
KELLY: Come on. What’s the issue?
ERIC: I just don’t know! I don’t get what it’s saying!
KELLY: Okay, let’s do this together.
She grabs another chair and sits next to Eric.
INT. KITCHEN – LATER
The kitchen is brighter than before as the afternoon sun comes out. They still haven’t finished the
worksheet. Kelly downloads Google Translate on her phone while Eric is slumped on the countertop,
resting his head on his arms.
INT. KITCHEN – LATER
Kelly sits alone at the counter. It’s almost sunset. She has made painstaking progress on the worksheet.
Eric’s video game sounds drift from the living room area.
INT. LIVING ROOM – EVENING
Kelly joins Eric on the couch.
ERIC: Finished?
KELLY: No. This is YOUR homework, you know?
ERIC: I still have five days of break to do it.

KELLY: Four.
ERIC: It’s Wednesday. Five.
KELLY: I doubt you’re going to touch it for the rest of the day. Four.
Eric squirms.
ERIC: Fine, four. I bet Baba would’ve been able to do it. His English is good.
KELLY: Hey, my English is better! Why do you think Baba stayed in Shanghai, huh?
Eric grunts and turns back to his game. It’s silent for a while.
KELLY: I’m glad I’m the one who gets to stay with you.
Eric seems contemplative. Moments later, he holds out his tablet.
ERIC: Do you want to try to play? I can teach you.
Kelly studies the game on the screen. It’s Tetris.
KELLY: Oh! I know how to play this!
ERIC: You do?
KELLY: Yeah. Let me show you. It’s very easy.
Kelly proceeds to fail miserably. She doesn’t seem to realize she’s failing. Eric watches, speechless, in
abject horror.
INT. KITCHEN – DAY
Thursday morning. Kelly is bursting with energy. She puts on the radio (same happy autumnal music as
beginning) and ties her apron.
But then… She shakes the salt jar. It’s completely empty. The radio switches to a melancholic,
exaggerated song. Kelly stares down the salt jar as if it might magically conjure up more salt.
INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY
KELLY: (off screen, mildly frustrated) I’ll be back! Don’t open the door for anyone!
The apartment door shuts. Eric, who was watching TV on the couch, barely notices.

On the TV, a popular Chinese cartoon called Boonie Bears is playing. It’s about two bear brothers living
in the woods.
Eric watches the climax of the episode: The younger bear brother rejects a brand new blanket that his
older brother made for him, saying that he prefers his old blanket which was full of patchwork, evidence
of all the times he tore it and his brother fixed it up again. Just when the two bear brothers are about to
hug, the doorbell rings.
Eric goes up to the door, hesitates, and opens it just a tiny sliver. Mrs. Reedy is standing in the doorway.
MRS. REEDY: Oh hello! Is your mother home?
ERIC: No.
MRS. REEDY: Is your father home?
ERIC: No.
MRS. REEDY: You’re alone?
Eric nods.
MRS. REEDY: That doesn’t sound very safe. Didn’t your mom tell you not to talk to strangers?
Eric slowly translates her words then nods.
ERIC: Okay.
He shuts the door in Mrs. Reedy’s face.
MRS. REEDY: Wait!
Frantic knocking at the door.
MRS. REEDY: Hold on! I was going to say that there’s a neighborhood Thanksgiving party at—
(muttering) Oh, I’ll just leave a flyer.
A piece of paper slides beneath the door. Eric hears heels clicking down the apartment hall, then muf led
knocking. Eric presses his ear against the door.
NEIGHBOR MAN: Hello?

MRS. REEDY: Hi there! Tomorrow morning there’s going to be a community sponsored Thanksgiving
festival at—
NEIGHBOR MAN: Right. I saw on the community forums.
MRS. REEDY: Oh, you did?
NEIGHBOR MAN: Yep. Planning to bring my two gremlins with me. They’ve been gushing about the
festival all week.
MRS. REEDY: Kids are like that. I’ll see you and your family tomorrow then?
NEIGHBOR MAN: Of course…
The voices fade. Eric opens the door just a crack and glimpses Mrs. Reedy climbing the apartment
stairwell to the next floor.
INT. KITCHEN – DAY
The newly bought container of table salt is already a quarter used. Kelly’s forehead is visibly covered in
sweat as she opens the oven to check in on the turkey. She throws a glance at the closed door to Eric’s
bedroom and continues peeling potatoes in the sink.
INT. ERIC’S BEDROOM – DAY
Eric lies in bed. His tablet is playing another episode of Boonie Bears, but he isn’t paying attention. He
flips through images in the flyer that Mrs. Reedy dropped of : pumpkin carving, carnival games, a happy
boy with cranberry sauce on his lips.
INT. DINING TABLE – EVENING
Thanksgiving night. The feast is prepared. A whole turkey, slightly burnt in some parts but mostly golden
brown, lies in the center of the dining table surrounded by other food. Too much food. Eric sits down and
picks up his chopsticks.
KELLY: Come on. Try some.
She gestures at the food. Eric dips his chopsticks into a bowl of mashed potatoes and licks it of .
KELLY: Well?
ERIC: Um, it’s good.
KELLY: Really?

ERIC: Yeah, I guess.
To back up his point, he dips his chopsticks into the mashed potatoes again while Kelly stares at him.
KELLY: Try the turkey.
Eric looks at the turkey, then at his chopsticks, then at his mother.
KELLY: Right, I forgot.
She hurries to the kitchen to retrieve a plastic knife and fork.
Kelly saws the knife back and forth, trying to extract a piece of turkey leg. After a few cuts, she gives up
and stabs the meat instead, but the knife snaps on impact. The broken blade tip clatters on the kitchen tile.
KELLY: I’ll get another one.
ERIC: It’s too much.
KELLY: What?
ERIC: Too much potato. I don’t like potato. I want fried rice.
Kelly’s smile falters.
KELLY: I can make some if you want.
Eric’s eyes dart around the room.
ERIC: Yours isn’t the same. I don’t want— I just want to go home.
KELLY: But this IS home. It’s just new.
ERIC: But Grandpa and Grandma aren’t here. Baba isn’t here. Why isn’t he here?
KELLY: I know you miss him, but he needs to keep our business running.
ERIC: But you’re here in America, and you still do work on your computer! Why can’t Baba do that too?
KELLY: Because many employees depend on him. He can’t be far away from the people he leads.
ERIC: But now he’s far away from me! I mean, he’s MY Baba. Shouldn’t I have…?

KELLY: (forcefully cheerful) Well, that’s why I’m here!
ERIC: Then what if you and Baba switched places? You can run the business and he can stay here! That
works! You can do that, right?
Kelly opens her mouth, then closes it.
KELLY: I can, but I like staying with you.
She waits for Eric to reciprocate. He doesn’t. Mother and son stare at each other.
KELLY: I’ll go make some fried rice.
ERIC: I don’t want it.
KELLY: (shouting) Okay! Fine! It’s not good enough!
Eric shrinks, startled.
KELLY: None of what I do is good enough! I get it! Fine! But at least I’m trying! Can’t you see? I mean,
can’t you just…
She falters.
KELLY: I don’t know. Go watch TV or something. Go do what you want to do.
Eric’s eyes are turning red. He dashes into his room, slamming the door behind him.
Kelly sinks into her chair. She stares at her rejected feast. Then, she picks up her chopsticks and tries the
mashed potatoes. They taste horrible. She grimaces. The sun has set.
Kelly nudges some plates aside and puts her head down.
INT. KITCHEN – DAY
Kelly wakes up groggy and rubs her eyes, still seated at the dining table. Her phone displays the time
8:40 AM. Kelly jolts up. She hasn’t made breakfast!
There’s a conspicuous piece of paper on the kitchen counter—Eric’s Thanksgiving homework. Kelly picks
it up.
There are five lines in the “What I’m Grateful for” section. In the top two spots, #1 and #2, Eric has
written “Mama” and “Baba,” respectively. Kelly rereads the words and chuckles.

A bedroom door eases open. Eric peeks out, cautious.
KELLY: Good morning!
ERIC: Good morning.
KELLY: Are you hungry?
ERIC: No.
Kelly looks at the dining table, overflowing with leftovers. She begins carrying the plates to the kitchen
and wrapping them in foil.
KELLY: You know it’s bad to waste food, right? We should eat some of this.
Eric re-enters his room. Kelly wonders what she did wrong again, but Eric returns with Mrs. Reedy’s flyer
in hand.
KELLY: What’s that?
ERIC: There’s a party.
KELLY: For Thanksgiving?
ERIC: The day after Thanksgiving. It’s called “Friends-giving.” You’re supposed to bring lots of food.
KELLY: (reading) To share with our neighbors?
ERIC: Yeah. And they bring food for us.
KELLY: What a funny idea.
Kelly puts foil on the remaining dishes. She stacks a couple of them in Eric’s arms and hoists the rest by
herself. Eric opens the door.
KELLY: Earlier, did you call me your friend?
She tries to hide her smile.
ERIC: No. You’re my mom.
Kelly laughs. They step out of the apartment together.
THE END