Grandma's Hands
Upon the death of her estranged grandmother, a downtrodden young woman inherits a pair of gloves
which preternaturally compel her to strike back at the oppressive men in her life.

Even when grandmothers are estranged, they leave us legacies--- whether we want them or not.

But sometimes those legacies are undiscovered gifts. Much more than recipes. Costume jewelry. Or Hawaiian floral mumus.

These undiscovered gifts are the knowing that comes with having the same blood. The same dreams. And...having the same fears.

In Chris Courtney Martin’s “Grandma’s Hands,”  Billie discovers those gifts in a most unusual and tragically touching way.

INT. BLOCK HOUSE - BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

A queen-size bed, well made with floral covers. It's littered with stacks of things--

Shoe boxes. Hat boxes. Jewelry boxes. Papers.

DODIE BLOCK, 55, stands at the foot of the bed. Flips through a binder-clipped file.

Billie sweeps in, plops on the bed. A tower of shoe boxes threatens to topple. Dodie catches them.

DODIE
Girl!

BILLIE
Does it really have to be us doing this? The woman had a tribe of children.

DODIE
Be respectful.

BILLIE
I could have said "litter."

Dodie gives her a look.

DODIE
That's my mother.

Billie sighs.

BILLIE
I know. Sorry, Mom. I'm just saying-- if she left us something, I could see - 

DODIE
She ain't leave nobody nothing, period.
You know how them backwoods folks are about lawyers and papers.

Dodie sighs.

DODIE
Here--

Dodie sets down the papers, hands Billie a wooden jewelry box.

DODIE 
For your troubles.

BILLIE
You don't have to say it like that.

Billie flips the lid, frowns.

BILLIE 
Costume.

DODIE
There's more in the closet.

Billie hops up, throws open the closet door--

Mumus. Hawaiian floral button-ups. She pulls a face. Not a chance in hell. Something catches her eye. Hanging from the pocket of an ancient overcoat: the leather gloves.

Billie grabs the gloves, slips one on. Her sweater sleeve shifts up. Reveal: a nasty purple bruise around her wrist.

She slips on the other glove. Wiggles her fingers. Perfect fit. Billie admires them. Dodie glances over her shoulder.

DODIE 
Almost one o'clock.

Billie snaps-to.

BILLIE
Dang it. Alright. Thanks.

Billie grabs her puffy coat off the back of a chair.

BILLIE 
Be back after my shift.

She kisses Dodie on the cheek, rushes out.

But, her grandmother’s leather gloves are more fitting than Billie could have ever imagined.

Is it true that we leave our imprint on what we’ve left behind? Can we better sympathize with someone if we’ve walked in their shoes--or in this case--worn their gloves?

“Grandma’s Hands” is an edgy, fast-paced take on how one young woman learns to get a grip on her own life through the eyes of her grandmother’s. A perfect combination of universal truth and high concept premise, don't let this short slip through your fingers and get away!