THE SHARK CHRONICLES: SEVENTH POSTCARD

          "What the hell?" Darren muttered as he kept turning the Connecticut postcard over and over. The front showed a photo of a pizza place with the sign Mystic Pizza on it. When he turned it over, the postcard appeared torn and worn, but the front was whole and shiny.

POTENTIAL

                You look at me and see a scrap of paper swirling around in the gusts of winds leap-frogging across the pavement. You do not pick me up so you do not see my potential. Text, pictures and language change for the reader. I can be anything written, drawn, or printed, anything, until you pick me up and as your eyes move across the surface, I could change into:

A quick diagram of the positions of Pequot advance guards during a skirmish during                        an’s slow occupation of Pequot land both bought and stolen, although buying                             also meant stealing

A yearbook photo of Bryon Gilbert, for the American School for the Deaf, 1976

                A medical chart on a patient diagnosed with sexual inversion at Undercliff Sanatorium

“It shall be established that a pickle shall not be considered a pickle unless it has been demonstrated that said pickle is capable of sufficiently bouncing upon a hard surface.”

                The 6^th page of a thesis on the underlying subtext regarding feminism in Graham Greene’s  

                A lost story penned by Mark Twain

                A note from a woman in love with a man who is not her husband

                An announcement of the latest student production at the Arts at the Capitol Theater Magnet School

                A print out of a Craigslist posting for a free space heater

                Laundry soap, Nutter Butter cookies, orange juice, soy sauce and a box of pas

                A letter from a jilted lover threatening to come over and destro            intage turntable shit

          he loves so much and see how he likes that, the total jerk  b                          cker asshole

                A poem by a seven year old girl about a silver dog th                                          to t

                BUR 516 à July 2^nd returning 516 ßon ? will ha                                                   s

                A photo of a boy holding out a banana to a

                You will just never know unless yo

                  another  perhaps I will chang

                     p your rank indiffe

                       tes within th

THE SHARK CHRONICLES: SIXTH POSTCARD

           The last postcard had taken a lot out of Derrick, He decided to leave the postcards alone for a few days, but then his curiosity won out. After a visit with a friend of his, he went to a burger joint and settling in at a booth, he pulled out the next one.
          COLORADO WELCOMES YOU!

DELUGE

     Life at age eight was a confusing time for me. I’d finally mastered expressing myself sufficiently in sign language, and I could now read English at a level beyond my current grade. Yet there was so much I didn’t understand and so little explanation. The few people in my life who could sign to me seemed to know so much more than I did. Idioms, jokes, general knowledge, mathematical concepts that were incomprehensible and unknown to me seemed to be second nature to my classmates, my sister, my cousins.
     My family made every effort to include me in conversation, to teach me these things. But I remember that they often would take a quick deep breath before explaining, translating or interpreting, as if they needed a little more energy to help me keep up. Did they not see how exhausted I was from trying to read lips, body language, any correlating text nearby, and desperately dredging every corner of my mind to recall anything that might help me?
     At eight, I knew I was Deaf, that I needed to know English to get by in the world around me, but that a large portion of it was beyond the maximum volume on my hearing aids receiver microphone. I also knew my family loved me, but they also struggled with this missing portion as well and the challenges of trying to visualize for me a language that is so heavily reliant upon lexicon.
     I recall in the summer, when my family was on a vacation in Colorado visiting some of my father’s siblings, we were at my Uncle Roy’s house. Uncle Roy was a symbol of the times- his parted hair slicked just so, his grin shining beneath a mustache, and the requisite light colored leather coat with lapels the size of toasters. His sharply pleated polyester bellbottoms- I cannot remember the color- my visual cortex has long since blotted out the hideous hues- swishing and rasping together- a sound unknown to me for many more years beyond 1980.
     Uncle Roy suggested we head out into the desert to hunt for arrowheads left behind by Indians. I was excited by the idea of hunting for treasure, but no one else seemed interested except my cousin Jason, Uncle Roy’s son, and my father who I think more or less agreed to come along to make sure I wasn’t without any means of communication. Or to make sure I behaved. It really could be one or the other, to be honest.
     We drove out to someplace- I have no idea where on the map- but then we came to a mesa- a raised plateau, and Uncle Roy said the likelihood of finding an arrowhead up there would be better. So he drove carefully up the narrow dirt path that wound around and around the entire perimeter of the plateau. We finally skidded to a stop atop the top. As far as the eye could see- small brush plants, sand, and- yeah that was about it. We wandered around, trying to discern tiny sand-colored pieces of rock amidst the sand, and to discern particularly these that were shaped by human hands, not carved by time. Come to think of it, that day could well be the reason we all wear glasses now, the four of us.
     After perhaps an hour of completely unrewarding searching, a storm broke upon us out of nowhere. It was not a heavy rain, not a downpour, but a deluge. My dad, my cousin, and my uncle all shouted to each other, and gestured to me, that we should get in the car. I moved slowly, because I to this day love being in the middle of a rainstorm. But then I realized this wasn’t a rainstorm but a lightning storm, so I started running towards the car.
     Inside the car, the steaming moisture rising from our bodies and clothes turned the glass of the windows and windshields into hard panes of fog. My uncle crept slowly towards the path leading down the plateau, squinting through the tendrils of vision he constantly swiped through the fogged glass, which closed up just as quickly as he made them. After only a few minutes of inching down the incline, he stopped. He spoke urgently to my father. Everyone, except me began to argue, discuss, converse rapidly, pointing all over and speaking so fast, I was clueless. I began to doodle faces on the fogged glass, but then I saw that everyone was exiting the car. A moment later, my dad pulled the door on my side open and told me to get out and help.
     "We have to lay down a protective barrier alongside the edge of the road, a sort of retaining wall. So we don’t slide in the mud and go over the side, plunging to certain injury and probable death." He told me, wiping his glasses constantly. If pressed to swear to this in court, I might admit he actually signed something like this, "we need to put rocks down so the car won’t slip in the mud, whoosh-over cliff." But being bilingual is all about translating concepts, right?
     So over the next half hour, my mood darkened in synch with the sky as I struggled to keep my Roos mud-free and failing miserably while I picked up rocks the size of my head, which was pretty considerable at the time. Half the rocks I placed, my uncle or my dad would pick up and reset in another location in some pattern that baffled me, yet made sense to my cousin and both adults as they worked in a rhythm I could not perceive. I stopped looking at them, stopped watching their mouths, stopped trying to listen with my eyes.     But I didn’t stop moving. The rain beat on, relentless.
     Relentless, too, was the anger and frustration within my boy’s mind as I pondered once again this hidden body of information that seemed to always be out of my reach, but so easily shared amongst my relatives that could hear. Petulantly, I dropped a rock right on top of a carefully placed row, and immediately a dozen or so promptly slid off the edge of the road. Unthinkingly, I lunged forward to grab what I could, and the treacherous mud propelled me towards empty air at a breakneck speed, and no pun there- we were still several hundred feet above the ground.
     But I was jerked back to secure footing at the expense of the seams on my velour shirt’s shoulder and collar. No loss there- it was a hideous shirt. And it looked a lot worse wet. I turned my head up to look at my dad. He was grinning, chuckling even. I was aghast. A quick scan informed me that my cousin and uncle seemed equally amused. I’d almost died, and they found that funny?
     I began to cry. Not obviously, there were no sobs or squinched face. The salt simply poured down my face, hidden by the skywater washing down everything around us. My dad pointed down at my feet; with the expression I had come to learn that he wanted me to follow his direction. I looked down and saw the wonder; neatly placed stones imbedded in the earth beneath in approximate rows, now exposed by the diminishing mud to provide traction. "We don’t have to worry about the rocks anymore," he said, already gently propelling me back towards the car. "We’ll get down just fine." As I squished in my seat, dripping all over the seat and my cousin as he lay back exhausted as only a teenager can be exhausted after being indentured into service for one’s parents, I had a revelation.
     My family’s mirth had not been at my near-mishap, but rather, more of relief at the sudden reprieve from a dangerous trouble. Also, my dad had taken the trouble to explain to me right after saving me from my own foolishness, rather than just stuffing me into the car without a word, which I realize now would have been far more common for a parent of a Deaf child. And as I watched my cousin and my father and his brother chatting with broad smiles that seemed to dispel the storm clouds above, the tears started to come forth again. My dad glanced at me and concern crossed his face.
     "Are you crying?" he asked, but I just quickly ran my hand through my hair, causing more water to run down my face before I wiped my face, to give the illusion of just rainwater. It was much easier to perform this subterfuge than try to express, with my confused eight-year old mind and my still fledging language skills, that I had learned something just then, something new and profound that was probably not news to the others.
     I now knew one could cry from happiness and produce tears of joy just as easily as deeply as the salt of despair.

THE SHARK CHRONICLES: FIFTH POSTCARD

          Derrick waited until the next time he was checked in at another motel to read the next postcard. A great decision, he discovered. The postcard showed the well-known HOLLYWOOD sign, and the caption read, "Welcome to Southern California, where the stars are!"
          As soon as he turned it over, the click and whir of a movie projector began, and Derrick's eyes flickered with the images even as he read. He also covered his nose, because the stench that came up was pretty bad. Even Riley covered his nose with his paws

　

SKIN AND BONES

　

  A SCREENPLAY

　

　

　

　

　

INT. MAMA MARIE’S SHOP- EVENING
The CAMERA PANS RIGHT slowly through the store. Soft zydeco or blues music plays. This is a voodoo shop, filled with a mixture of commercialized junk for the tourists, and genuine artifacts for practitioners of vondu, the true religion. As the CAMERA PANS, we see the following words slowly appear in this order:
ANN-MARIE CAZEAU’S
FAIRFAX DISTRICT
LOS ANGELES
NOVEMBER 2^{nd, 2013.}
7:56 PM
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. MAMA MARIE’S SHOP –NIGHT
The CAMERA now shows a tarot-reading table in front of a store window that is barred. It is after hours. This table is not a flashy table for tourists with all kind of colorful drapings. This table is for business. It is a wooden table, worn-out. We see MAMA MARIE’s hands completing a Tarot diagram. All the cards have been laid out except the last one. MAMA MARIE takes the top card off the deck of Tarots she holds in one hand and turns it over.
CUT TO:
INT. MAMA MARIE’S SHOP- NIGHT
We see the card at EXTREME CLOSE-UP. It is DEATH. The CAMERA ZOOMS OUT and UP at the same time, so that we see MAMA MARIE’S face. She looks worried and thoughtful.

MAMA MARIE:

Which it gonna be, Baron Samedi? Which it gonna be?

Suddenly MAMA MARIE jumps in alarm as she is showered with shattered glass. CAMERA DROPS to show a rock still wobbling from its landing upon the table. The cards are scattered, but one remains in clear view: DEATH.

MAMA MARIE:

Oh!

The CAMERA swings up to the hole in the cracked glass, and ZOOMS through the hole to:
EXT. ROSEWOOD STREET, FAIRFAX DISTRICT, LOS ANGELES- NIGHT
The CAMERA will PAN slowly down the street, moving from one side of the street of the other, ZOOMING IN on individuals and then ZOOMING OUT to continue PANNING. EVERYTHING will be in SLOW MOTION. From the window, the CAMERA will ZOOM IN on:
A MAN smashing through a window, to the outside street, wrestling with ANOTHER MAN,
then
Two CAUCASIAN MEN attacking TWO AFRCIAN AMERICAN MEN, and TWO AFRICAN AMERICAN WOMEN trying to separate them,
then
Two CAUCASIAN BOYS kicking and beating a fallen LATINO MAN,
then
A LARGE GROUP OF AFRICAN AMERICANS, CAUCASIANS AND LATINOS fighting with fists, pipes, and chains
then
AN ASIAN AMERICAN WOMAN screaming and hitting a MAN over the head with a piece of wood.
By now, we should start noticing something strange. Not all of the people are dressed normally. Some are in rags. Muddy, moldy rags. Some of the people look and move differently. Now we see an AFRICAN AMERICAN MAN swinging at a MAN’S jaw. The MAN’S jaw comes completely off, and we see the AFRICAN AMERICAN’S stunned, horrified expression as the MAN reaches for him, eyes completely blank . . .
Then the CAMERA PANS DOWN to a pair of NIKES. Still in SLOW MOTION. The Nikes belong to someone running, running past all this violence. The CAMERA PANS UP and ZOOMS OUT to show an AFRICAN – AMERICAN TEENAGE BOY running, as if for his life. This is REGGIE WASHINGTON. We see more fighting going on, and it becomes more and more obvious that this is a RIOT happening between several distinct parties- CAUCASIANS, ASIANS, LATINOS, AFRICAN-AMERICANS, and ZOMBIES. The CAMERA TRACKS with Reggie and slowly ZOOMS IN for a CLOSE UP of his face. We see each bead of sweat as it drips and flies off his scared face. Then suddenly he collides with someone.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROSEWOOD STREET- NIGHT
FULL CLOSEUP of MICHAEL ZIEGLER, a CAUCASIAN TEENAGE BOY. MICHAEL ZIEGLER has been DEAD for less than a week, and BURIED a couple days before. He does not look very gross or nasty. Just recently dead. NORMAL SPEED resumes.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROSEWOOD STREET- NIGHT
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL facing each other. Reggie is startled, but not entirely surprised. Recognition dawns upon REGGIE.

REGGIE:

Mike?

CUT TO:
EXT. OUTDOOR BASKETBALL COURT- DAY. MUGGY SKY.
AERIAL SHOT of several TEENAGE BOYS playing some street version of basketball. We see the following WORDS slowly appear across the screen:
October 26th, 2013.
EIGHT DAYS EARLIER.
CUT TO:
FAR SHOT of REGGIE making a great shot. His ball sinks into the basket. Cries and cheers from his fellow ballplayers.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MICHAEL ZIEGLER, very much alive and completely healthy. He is sitting on the bleachers, busy drawing on a drawing pad, but at the noise the boys are making, he looks up and smiles.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE. He looks in MICHAEL’S direction, waves and grins. Suddenly he is struck by the ball.
CUT TO: FULL SHOT of KEN DUTTON and MORT CALDWELL, two African-American teenagers. MORT looks embarrassed. KEN looks impatient, even angry.

KEN:

You playin’ or what?

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE. He glares at KEN and MORT, then looks at MICHAEL again.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MICHAEL. He is embarrassed. He knows Ken doesn’t like him. He looks back down at his drawing intently.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE. He sighs, and shakes his head slightly. He looks at KEN again.

REGGIE:

Nah. I’m tired of kicking your asses anyway.

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind KEN and MORT, focused on REGGIE as he begins to walk towards the bleachers.

KEN:

What’s up with that, man? We just got here.

REGGIE stops and turns.

REGGIE:

We’ve been here two hours, yo.

REGGIE starts walking again.

KEN:

Aw, come on, man.

MORT:

Forget it. We can play another time.

MORT puts his hand on KEN’S shoulder. KEN shrugs him off, and starts walking towards REGGIE.
CUT TO:
OVERHEAD SHOT behind MICHAEL. We can see what he’s drawing. It’s an excellent drawing, done in pencil. Very detailed picture of a tiger with its jaws wide open. The tiger’s eyes are not normal tiger eyes but instead are pure black with stars and nebulae in them.
CAMERA ZOOMS BACK to reveal REGGIE approaching MICHAEL. He sits down next to Michael.

REGGIE:

What you got here, man?

MICHAEL hands him the pad. REGGIE is obviously impressed.

REGGIE:

Whoa.

A shadow falls upon the paper. The CAMERA PANS up. KEN is standing in front of REGGIE. He tries to snatch the drawing, but REGGIE is too fast, blocking his hand. MICHAEL immediately grabs the drawing and closes the pad. He stands up and starts to put it into his backpack.

KEN:

You been drawing us?

MICHAEL:

(shaking his head)

No.

MORT appears behind KEN.

MORT:

Leave him alone, man.

KEN stares belligerently at MICHAEL. REGGIE steps in between them face-to-face with KEN.

REGGIE:

Back off.

KEN does not move.

MORT:

(to Ken)

Look, you want a ride home or not?

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of KEN’S face. We can see what he’s thinking. He doesn’t understand why Reggie is best friends with a white boy. He resents their friendship, and resents that Reggie is a far better player.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE’S face. He knows exactly what Ken’s thinking, has heard it all before, and is sick of it.

REGGIE:

Back . . . off.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP OF KEN’S face. He starts to say something, but thinks better of it.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of all FOUR BOYS.
KEN backs off, and starts walking down the stairs.

KEN:

Yeah, I’ll take that ride.

He stops and looks at REGGIE and MICHAEL.

KEN:

Next time don’t bring Van Gogh. He throws my game off.

REGGIE:

(scoffing)

You use any excuse for your lousy playing!

KEN:

Oh, fuck you.

MORT AND KEN walk off. MORT gives REGGIE a nod.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL.

REGGIE:

I’m sorry, Mike.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MICHAEL. His feelings are hurt, but he is trying not to show it.

MICHAEL:

Ah, he was just pissed off about losing.

MICHAEL forces a laugh.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE
REGGIE looks at the ground.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of BOTH BOYS.

MICHAEL:

So, you coming over for dinner?

REGGIE is relieved to be on a different subject. He pretends to think about it.

REGGIE:

Sure, as long as your mom’s not making mutton.

MICHAEL:

What’s wrong with my mom’s lamb?

REGGIE can’t resist this wide-open opportunity to tease MICHAEL

REGGIE:

First of all, you dress like a geek, and-

MICHAEL:

Ha, ha, real funny, Reg. You oughta go in for stand-up.

BOTH BOYS crack up and laugh for a while. They trade high fives, clasp hands.

REGGIE:

Well, come on!

REGGIE starts to run. MICHAEL groans. REGGIE is fast, real fast. MICHAEL grabs his backpack and
gives chase.
EXT. THE ZIEGLER HOME, FAIRFAX- DAY
INT. THE ZIEGLER HOME- KITCHEN- DAY
A tastefully furnished kitchen. An apple motif is included in the décor. On the fridge, amongst the clippings, magnets, pictures and whatnot, a picture of MICHAEL and REGGIE with their arms around each other’s shoulders may be visible.
ROSE ZIEGLER, Michael’s mother, a MIDDLE AGED CAUCASIAN WOMAN, is preparing dinner. The ZIEGLERS are Jewish and eat Kosher style. This doesn’t have to be obvious, but no contradictions to this diet should be seen in the kitchen.
MEDIUM SHOT of Rose as she washes food in the sink. Past her, the screen door from the side yard slams open as REGGIE and MICHAEL tumble in, laughing and panting.

ROSE:

Oh, look at you two! Go get cleaned up! Out in the sun like that, I wouldn’t be surprised if you two smelled like week-old fish!

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE and MICHAEL. They stare incredulously at ROSE for a moment then burst into laughter.

REGGIE:

Sure, Mrs. Z.

REGGIE heads out of the kitchen. His footsteps can be heard. The guest bathroom is upstairs.
CUT TO:
INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE- KITCHEN- DAY
MICHAEL walks over to the fridge and opens the door. ROSE crosses over to him and closes the fridge door.

ROSE:

No snacks! We’re eating in an hour. The way you eat all day, you’d think you’d be skin and bones if you went an hour without stuffing your face!

MICHAEL snatches two oranges and runs out of the kitchen. ROSE watches him go, shaking her head, but she has a big smile on her face.
INT. JOE ZIEGLER’S DELI – LATE DAY
JOE ZIEGLER, a CAUCASIAN MIDDLE AGED MAN is closing up shop. He is co-owner of the deli, and husband to ROSE, father to MICHAEL.
The other owner, JOHN MITCHELL, a LARGE AFRICAN AMERICAN MAN, comes out of the back room. He is holding a carefully wrapped package in his hands.

JOE:

So she’s taking your bait after all, John?

JOHN grins.

JOHN:

You got that right. After Mama Marie tasted my turkey on rye, I knew I had her hooked. She’s invited me to dinner at her place tonight, and I’m bringing a little surprise for her!

JOE is done with his cleaning up chores. He chuckles and reaches for the keys to the front door, hanging on a wall. Suddenly, JOHN becomes totally serious.
　
　

JOHN:

Oh, dammit.

JOE turns to see:
CUT TO:
PATRICK STEELER and his friends, about four or five of them, entering the deli. PATRICK is a White Supremacist teenager. He does not need to be a SKINHEAD, but certain logos and slogans can be seen on his clothing, maybe a tattoo, and his friends are just as bad. They’re Freedom Fighters- neo-Nazi-wannabes. PATRICK goes to school with REGGIE and MICHAEL, so JOE knows who he is.

JOE:

I’m sorry, but we’re closing.

PATRICK makes a mock moping face.

PATRICK:

(in fake whining tones)

But, we’re so hungry.

JOE plants his hands on the counter, angry. But he will not back down.

JOE:

Menu’s up there. If you want to eat, you’ll have to order it to go.

PATRICK turns to his friends, swaggering.

PATRICK:

What you’ll have boys? Oh! I know!

PATRICK turns back to JOE, and plants his own hands on the counter, daring JOE to back down. JOE does not move.

PATRICK:

I do believe my friends and I would like some ham and cheese sandwiches.

JOE:

That’s not on the menu, gentlemen, sorry.

PATRICK:

Gentlemen? All formal here, are we? Well, we want some ham and cheese sandwiches, so we’re getting ham and cheese sandwiches.

JOE:

I am delighted to hear that you have made up your minds. However, you won’t be able to get these sandwiches here. May I suggest-

JOE stops, staring at PATRICK. PATRICK has produced a crumpled dollar bill. PATRICK tosses the bill onto the counter.
CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of the dollar bill.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of JOE. He is puzzled.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF PATRICK. He gestures towards the dollar bill.

PATRICK:

Change it into gold.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP SHOT of JOE. He is both confused and indignant.

JOE:

What?

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP OF SHOT of PATRICK. He is sneering.

PATRICK:

You heard me. Isn’t that what Jews do?

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of JOE. He has heard enough.

JOE:

Okay, joke’s over. Leave now.

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT, from behind JOE. PATRICK puts his hands up and shrugs.

PATRICK:

Make me.

JOHN (OFFSCREEN): I’ll make you.
CUT TO:
FAR SHOT of JOHN emerging again from the back room. All 240 pounds of him. The boys react.

JOHN:

You better leave.

PATRICK:

What is this, some kind of discrimination? Ain’t this a free country?

JOHN:

Yeah. Yeah, it’s a free country, and we got the right to refuse service to anyone, and we’re closed. These are the facts. Deal.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of PATRICK. He suddenly pulls out a switchblade.

PATRICK:

And what if we don’t want to deal?

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind PATRICK. JOHN is not impressed or amused.

JOHN:

Oh, put that away before you get hurt. Joe?

JOE reaches for the telephone on the wall behind him. PATRICK raises his knife threateningly, but JOHN’S voice stops him.

JOHN:

Don’t even.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF PATRICK and JOHN staring at each other. PATRICK tries to outstare JOHN, but JOHN wins out.
CUT TO:
CLOSE –UP SHOT of PATRICK. He is sullen at having lost the stand-off.

PATRICK:

Alright, we’ll go. We don’t want anything touched by your hands anyway.

CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of JOHN.
　

JOHN:

Neither do we, so take your dollar.

CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of PATRICK. He is incredulous at JOHN’S attitude. He slowly reaches for the bill, and then pockets it quickly.

PATRICK:

Come on guys, it stinks in here.

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind JOHN and JOE. PATRICK stops and turns at the door.

PATRICK:

Tell your kike kid to stay out of my way, Pops.

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind PATRICK. JOE starts to step around the counter, but JOHN stops him. Satisfied at having getting a rise out of JOE, PATRICK exits the store. JOHN relaxes and closes his eyes.

JOHN:

Oy vey.

INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE. DINING ROOM- NIGHT
A table set for five people. Three people are already seated, REGGIE, MICHAEL, and RORY GRUSKIN, MICHAEL’S grandfather and ROSE’S father. If his left forearm ever becomes visible in any shot, a faded tattoo of a serial number should be visible. ROSE is serving food, and glancing towards the main entrance of the house.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of ROSE. She pauses after setting down a dish.

ROSE:

I wonder where he is.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MICHAEL. He’s already digging into his food, but he stops to look at his mom. He wants to reassure her.

MICHAEL:

I’m sure he’s on his way, Mom.

CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of ROSE. She wants to reassure MICHAEL too.

ROSE:

Of course he is.

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind RORY. We see JOE entering the dining room. He is still angry and upset from the incident at his deli. But he looks at his wife, who is glad to see him and gives him a kiss. He looks at Rory, his son, Reggie. They don’t need to hear about any more hate right now. He smiles.

JOE:

Okay, I’m starved!

In a series of DISSOLVE SHOTS, we watch the Zieglers have a family meal. Reggie is one of them, he is the brother Michael never had and vice versa. We hear overlapping snatches of dialogue, mostly about topics of interest to teenage boys, then we
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL. REGGIE takes a piece of pie.

REGGIE:

So I made the varsity team yesterday.

MICHAEL is stunned. This is news to him.
CUT TO:
INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE- DINING ROOM- NIGHT.
The entire family begins congratulating REGGIE, except for MICHAEL who is quiet. The excitement cools down.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL. MICHAEL leans over and speaks in sotto voce:

MICHAEL:

How come you didn’t tell me?

REGGIE:

I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to tell you all at the same time.

MICHAEL:

Tell all who?

REGGIE:

Your family. Hey, man, don’t take it personal. I would never have kept it a secret.

MICHAEL:

I know, but, you knew a whole day.

REGGIE:

Well, you could be a little more glad for me, you know?

MICHAEL considers this, and then cheers up.

MICHAEL:

Right on, man. I knew you would get it anyway. You’re gonna be great for the team.

REGGIE:

Sweet!

MICHAEL:

Sweet!

They trade high fives. MICHAEL looks away with a smile, but steals one last confused, hurt glance back at REGGIE.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. MAMA MARIE’S BEDROOM – LATE NIGHT.
The bedroom is quite darkened. Even the few candles scattered throughout the room cannot seem to illuminate the room very much. The décor is vaguely Caribbean. There is a vondu altar that could easily be mistaken for an artistic shadowbox upon one wall. The CAMERA is on the bed, but we see only the disheveled sheets and a pillow. Then JOHN’S sweat-drenched head and naked torso drop into view. He closes his eyes, sighing with exhausted bliss. MAMA MARIE’S head appears on JOHN’S chest, and she is just as drenched and naked.

JOHN:

Good Lord, Mama Marie, you-

MAMA MARIE:

Ooh, honey, call me Ann-Marie. You’ve definitely become a dear friend to me.

JOHN guffaws heartily.

JOHN:

Ann-Marie, you sure do know how to make a man feel good.

MAMA MARIE:

I would hope so. I wouldn’t be much of a priestess if I didn’t understand people and their desires.

　
CUT TO:
OVERHEAD ANGLE SHOT of the entire bed. JOHN props himself up on his elbow, and MAMA MARIE shifts over to his side, facing him.

JOHN:

You really believe that voodoo stuff?

MAMA MARIE is exasperated, but indulgent.

MAMA MARIE:

Vondu.

JOHN shrugs.
CUT TO:
FAR SHOT of the entire room.
MAMA MARIE stares at JOHN for a moment, then gets up and crosses the room, without modesty. She picks up a lacquered box from her nightstand. She crosses back to the bed, and snuggles up to JOHN.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MAMA MARIE and JOHN’s faces. The box is just visible in MAMA MARIE’S hands.

MAMA MARIE:

The problem with most folk when they hear about vondu, is that they start thinking about the voodoo bullshit they see in movies. Zombies, dolls with pins, death wishes. That’s not vondu. Vondu is love of God, of the spirits, of the body. (in exaggerated accent) We is all God’s chillun, baby. (in normal voice) All I do, see, is help people find what they’re looking for, and show them the paths they can take. That’s why I came here to this city. There’s some people here who got mighty destinies, but they don’t know, and this city needs them to know.

She opens the box.

JOHN:

So what’s that you got there?

MAMA MARIE:

A little magic for you.

JOHN:

I thought you said you didn’t know magic.

MAMA MARIE:

I never said that. There’s plenty you don’t know about me yet, baby. But no, this isn’t any big secret- just something that will make you feel good.

MAMA MARIE dips her fingers into the box, and her fingers come out covered with a thick gel-like substance. She reaches down, under the covers, towards JOHN’s groin. JOHN is startled, but then chuckles and obviously gets a lot of pleasure from whatever MAMA MARIE is doing to him.

JOHN:

That do feel good, honey. Some kind of herb from Jamaica or what?

MAMA MARIE:

No, you silly. I got it at that Blush shop over on Vine, the store with all kinds of toys and things for grown-ups. Like it?

JOHN begins to croon "That Ol’ Black Magic" MAMA MARIE giggles, then rolls her eyes and slaps JOHN on the chest.

MAMA MARIE:

Oh, you.

DISSOLVE CUT TO:
INT. STEELER HOUSE –DEN- LATE NIGHT.
This is Patrick’s father’s sanctuary- where he goes to be away from his wife and children. It is dark, but if anything becomes visible, we should see: some books, a trophy or two, an easy chair, an entertainment center that’s a decade out of date. Within the darkness, PATRICK and some of his friends are quietly walking around with a flashlight. PATRICK stops at a cabinet and raises a hand. The others hush their whispering and stare.

PATRICK:

Here it is.

CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of PATRICK.

PATRICK holds a key up in the flashlight’s beam. It catches the light, glinting blood-red, and reflecting in PATRICK’S eyes for a moment.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of CABINET.
WE see PATRICK’S hand insert the key into the cabinet’s keyhole. When he turns the key and opens the cabinet, the door wings away to reveal pitch black darkness. A beat. Then the flashlight beam sweeps over the interior to reveal a HANDGUN.

PATRICK:

(whispering)

Oh, yeah.

DISSOLVE CUT TO:
INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE –LIVING ROOM – EARLY EVENING.
RORY is seated in an easy chair, staring at nothing in particular. An ancient radio, still working, plays indistinctly next to the chair. MICHAEL comes down the stairs at full tilt, and RORY sees him.

RORY:

Mike, come here.

As MICHAEL walks over to RORY, the following words appear across the screen:
THE NEXT DAY. October 27th, 2013.

MICHAEL:

Yes, Gramps?

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of RORY. His eyes are full of life, even if his movements are slow and unsteady.

RORY:

Got a minute?

CUT TO:

MEDIUM SHOT of MICHAEL. He glances towards the front door. He heaves a sigh, and smiles.

MICHAEL:

Sure, gramps.

CUT TO:
WIDE SHOT of the two. MICHAEL crosses over to RORY’s side. RORY looks up at MICHAEL, smiling.

RORY:

So, nu? All is well with you, no?

MICHAEL:

Sure it is.

RORY:

Fine. These old ears of mine, they don’t hear so well always, you know? So what do I do? I watch. I watch my daughter and my son-in-law and you and that friend of yours. Last night I see that you are surprised Reggie makes the basketball team. I see you look hurt. Why?

MICHAEL:

Oh, no not hurt, Gramps. I was just surprised, because I didn’t-

RORY:

No. You were hurt. You felt betrayed, no?

MICHAEL:

It’s no biggie, I just thought he’d tell me first.

RORY:

Friends are always betraying each other. You’ll see.

MICHAEL:

What is that supposed to mean? Reggie’s my best friend!

RORY:

If you say so, but you wait. There will be a time when that is tested. Maybe he will pass, maybe not. Friendship became a dream when I was at-

MICHAEL:

This isn’t 1944, Gramps!

RORY:

(Beat)

No, but this is the world we live in. Too many people look at you and your friend, and they think, ehh, why? Some people will challenge that.

MICHAEL:

(Remembering Ken)

No, they won’t.

RORY:

Just be careful, Michael. There are a lot of people out there who do not have your heart. They will not understand, about your friendship with-

MICHAEL explodes. He can’t believe his own grandfather is playing this tired old tune too.

MICHAEL:

Oh come on! I know there’s still plenty of prejudice out there, but it’s not like people are gonna start a mob or throw us into gas-

MICHAEL stops abruptly.
CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of RORY: He is not angry, but pained. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MICHAEL:
MICHAEL looks away, a little ashamed.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of both.

RORY:

Michael. People and times do change, but much more slowly than you think. And of course much more slowly than you want, boychik.

MICHAEL:

Yeah . . . I know.

RORY:

Ah. What do I know, I am just an old man, and you, you want to go and be with your friends. Go. (Waving his hand and smiling.)

MICHAEL bends down and kisses RORY on his head. RORY pats MICHAEL’S shoulder.

MICHAEL:

Thanks, Gramps. See ya later!

CAMERA FOLLOWS MICHAEL as he straightens and goes out of the front door in a hurry.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF the room, and we see:
ROSE ZIEGLER entering the LIVING ROOM, crossing over to RORY.

ROSE:

Dad.

RORY:

(Taking her hand into his and patting it)

Hello, Rose.

ROSE:

I heard you two just now. You know Mike is going to keep spending time with Reggie.

RORY:

I know, I know. Look, I do not worry about Reggie. Reggie is a nice boy. But . . .

ROSE:

What is it, Dad? You’ve been gloomy all night.

CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of RORY. He stares at Rose for a moment, then speaks. This is something he has never told a soul before.

RORY:

The January in the year after I and your uncle went to the camp, there was a new supervisor at the foundry. Herr Knopf. He was not interested in watching us take a long time to die. The cold, the starving, the work, it was not enough.

CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of ROSE. She is stunned to hear him talking about this.

ROSE:

Dad-

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of both. Full front view of RORY.

RORY:

No, Rose. You need to hear this. Herr Knopf, he wanted us to die quickly, and he did not want us to die good in the head. He wanted us to be crazy, to die scared. More scared than we were, already.

SFX: Dogs barking, shouting in German.
DISSOLVE CUT TO:
INT. BARRACKS- DASCHAU CONCENTRATION CAMP, JANUARY 1943- LATE AT NIGHT. Several thin and filthy inmates are huddled together in a single bunk, 6 or 7 of them. Wide awake. Their eyes shine in the darkness. One of them is RORY, as a young boy.

RORY (Cont’d, V.O.)

He would come, at deep night. Once a week, maybe two weeks. With dogs, alone. He walked through our sleeping place.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of a gleaming pair of boots. Herr Knopf’s. A panting dog heeling. The boots begin to walk, deliberately slow, menacing.
CUT TO:
EXTREME CLOSE-UP of the first inmate. He is trembling. His eyes are fixed on Herr Knopf. The CAMERA PANS RIGHT across each and every face. All eyes are fixed on the same thing.

RORY (Cont’d, V.O.)

He had a lantern with him. But it would be closed. No light. He would walk right up to where we were. We were easy to find. We all hug together, for the warmth, you understand? Then he would raise the lantern slowly.

P.O.V. from HERR KNOPF. Walking towards the inmates. Turning to look at them. We see a gloved hand raising the lantern. The other hand reaches over to open the shutter. The inmates are speechless, immobile with terror.

RORY (Cont’d, V.O.)

That is how he chose. The first man the light showed, he would be gone the next day. We never knew. Where, what, how.

EXTREME CLOSE-UP of YOUNG RORY. Suddenly, a bright beam of light washes over his face. He gasps and shuts his eyes. The dogs start barking frenziedly.
CUT TO:
INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE –LIVING ROOM – EARLY EVENING.
CLOSE-UP of RORY. He is silent, staring at Rose.
CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of ROSE. She has gone deathly pale.
CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT- behind ROSE’S shoulder.

RORY:

That feeling, that terrible, awful waiting, waiting for the light, to see who it was, and hoping, praying that I would stay in the dark for another week. That feeling, I have now. Tonight.

DISSOLVE CUT TO:
INT. THE WASHINGTON HOME-KITCHEN-EARLY EVENING.
REGGIE is seated at the kitchen table, hastily eating, and often glancing up at the clock on the wall. His mother, VIV WASHINGTON, is putting away food and dishes, amused.

VIV:

Slow down, boy. Mike will be here soon enough. You’d think he was your girlfriend or something.

REGGIE looks up, slightly revolted. He shakes his head and grimaces.

REGGIE:

(With mouth full)

Oh, come on, Mom. Just wanna make sure we don’t miss the movie, that’s all.

VIV:

Ugh- those movies you watch. I still don’t get what’s so great about horror.

REGGIE:

Horror ain’t real.

VIV:

Your mouth’s full- eat, then talk. Or better yet, just eat.

VIV swats Reggie playfully over the head with a dishtowel. He grins and continues inhaling his food.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROSEWOOD STREET, FAIRFAX DISTRICT, LOS ANGELES- EVENING.
MICHAEL emerges from around the corner, and the Camera ZOOMS BACKWARDS continuously as MICHAEL walks facing the camera. He glances at his watch, and picks up his pace, still looking at his watch.
CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT of MICHAEL, as he collides with someone.
CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of the someone- it is PATRICK. He sneers and shoves MICHAEL back.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF both boys. We can see two other boys-Freedom Fighters- with Patrick. They are grinning in anticipation of the intimidation about to happen. MICHAEL glances around- looking for escape.

PATRICK:

Well, well. Kike boy. Had a chat with your daddy last night.

MICHAEL:

Look, I gotta go.

PATRICK:

Don’t be rude. We won’t do anything to you.

MICHAEL:

Well, th-that’s good. So, I’ll go now.

MICHAEL takes a couple of tentative steps to pass PATRICK.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT from behind PATRICK. He shoots out his hand and stops MICHAEL with a hand on his chest.

PATRICK:

Didn’t your daddy teach your manners?

MICHAEL is suddenly angry. First Ken, then his grandfather, and that had been about Reggie. Now this is just because of who he is, not who his friends are.

MICHAEL:

Yeah, but I use them only with people who use their brains.

CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of PATRICK. His eyes dilate with surprised indignation.

PATRICK:

What the fuck did you just-

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of both boys. PATRICK hits MICHAEL squarely in the face as he finishes his sentence.

PATRICK:

-say?!?

MICHAEL staggers backwards, his nose bleeding, but not broken. He stares at PATRICK with seething anger. PATRICK is putting on a show of bluster, but he is a bit unnerved by MICHAEL’S lack of submissive cowering.

MICHAEL:

My bad. I meant to say, I’m only polite to people who aren’t walking assholes!

He begins to charge PATRICK, but PATRICK swiftly reaches into the back waistband of his pants and whips out his father’s GUN. He aims it with the proper handgrip at MICHAEL, who stops dead in his tracks.

PATRICK:

You really have to learn manners, Jew.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF all the boys.

One of Patrick’s friends is nervous. Murder isn’t on his list of fun ways to scare people. He steps forward.

COHORT:

Patrick, man, just let him go. He knows you got the drop on him.

CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of PATRICK

PATRICK:

(Not looking around. Deadly tone)

Shut. Up.

CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of COHORT
The COHORT shuts up, and looks away.
CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT of MICHAEL. He does not believe PATRICK will shoot him, but he also knows PATRICK is volatile. He opts for diplomacy.

MICHAEL:

Patrick, look- just let me go. We’ll just forget all this.

CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of PATRICK

PATRICK:

First you gotta learn your manners. You got to learn to respect your betters.

CUT TO:
INT. MAMA MARIE’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.
The room is dark, but some candles are burning. By the light of the candles, we can see MAMA MARIE sitting at the side of the bed, watching JOHN as he sleeps. MAMA MARIE kisses her fingers then presses them to JOHN’s lips. She is wearing a robe, and rises to cross the room to her altar. She reaches for an unlit candle, and strikes a match to light it. The flame burns a strange bluish-black color. MAMA MARIE gasps.
CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of MAMA MARIE. CAMERA TRACKS with MAMA MARIE as she goes over to the window and looks out.
CUT TO:
POV shot from window. Across the street, on the sidewalk, we can see PATRICK pointing the gun at MICHAEL.
CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of MAMA MARIE. Her eyes widen and she inhales sharply.

MAMA MARIE:

(Whispering)

Lord!

CUT TO:
EXT. ROSEWOOD STREET, FAIRFAX DISTRICT, LOS ANGELES- NIGHT.
FAR SHOT of the boys from across the street. PATRICK and MICHAEL and the other boys are arguing, but we cannot hear what they are saying. PATRICK still has the gun pointed at MICHAEL.
CUT TO:
EXT. ENTRANCE TO MAMA MARIE’S SHOP. MAMA MARIE comes charging out the door and yells.

MAMA MARIE:

No! This is wrong!

CUT TO:
FAR SHOT of the boys from across the street. The CAMERA starts to PAN in closer to the boys. Everything happens in SLOW MOTION. We see PATRICK and MICHAEL look over at the CAMERA (MAMA MARIE). MICHAEL starts to turn towards her. The COHORT grabs for the gun, PATRICK looks back at the COHORT. By now the CAMERA should be halfway across the street, making a MEDIUM SHOT of the three boys. Still PANNING IN. Still in SLOW MOTION. PATRICK pushes the COHORT away, and yells. MICHAEL looks back at PATRICK and stumbles back, frightened. Now CAMERA will show just PATRICK as MICHAEL stumbles out of frame. Still SLOW MOTION. Still PANNING IN. CLOSE UP of the gun in PATRICK’s hand. PATRICK fires the gun. EXTREME CLOSE-UP of the bullet exploding out, surrounded by bluish-black heat waves. We can see and hear faces in the waves, howling, tortured faces. The CAMERA TRACKS the bullet as it travels through the air, and hits MICHAEL in the chest, just left of center. THE CAMERA PANS around, SLOW MOTION to show MAMA MARIE as she reacts with horror. Back to normal speed as we
CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of MAMA MARIE. She looks away, anguished.
CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of MICHAEL. He stares down at the blood streaming down from his wound. He falls down.
CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP of PATRICK. He is stunned. Not necessarily stunned with remorse, but with the power he has over Michael’s life.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of the boys. His buddies grab at his arm, and then they all flee, including Patrick.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MAMA MARIE, hand to her mouth. The door behind her swings open to show a shirtless JOHN. He sees the body, and runs across the street.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of JOHN kneeling down next to MICHAEL’S body. He turns to shout at MAMA MARIE.

JOHN:

Ann-Marie! Call 911! We got a kid here-

(It dawns on him who the kid is.)

Oh no! no, Mike, hold on, Mike, oh man, Mike-

JOHN takes MICHAEL’S body into his arms, rocking him.

JOHN:

You just hold on, now, it’s not your time, man. Not now, not today . . .

DISSOLVE TO:
FAR SHOT showing JOHN and MICHAEL, and across the street, in the background, MAMA MARIE turning to enter her shop to make the call, in SLOW MOTION. In a series of DISSOLVE SHOTS in SLOW MOTION, we see:
CLOSE UP of JOHN crying as he rocks MICHAEL, but still saying encouragements
CLOSEUP of MAMA MARIE on the phone
PATRICK and his friends still running
REGGIE looking at his watch, puzzled. He looks up, worried.
An ambulance with sirens on. It passes PATRICK, who stops and turns to watch it.
MAMA MARIE coming out of the store
MAMA MARIE standing next to JOHN, saying some kind of prayer.
REGGIE on the phone.
MRS. ZIEGLER on the phone, shaking her head. RORY in the background, staring.
REGGIE hanging up, biting his lip.
The paramedics getting out of the ambulance
JOHN letting MICHAEL go as the PARAMEDICS kneel over MICHAEL
PATRICK sneaking back into his father’s study, wiping the gun to remove prints
CLOSE UP of RORY staring
One of the paramedics looking up at the other paramedics, and shaking his head.
JOHN looking away, anguished. MAMA MARIE turns, and walks back to her store, crying.
PATRICK locking the gun up.
MICHAEL on the stretcher. A paramedic covers his face with a blanket.
DISSOLVE TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF JOHN looking at MICHAEL’S covered body as it is being loaded into the ambulance. Normal speed. He slowly raises a cell phone to his ear. He listens for a moment.

JOHN:

He-Hey Rose, hon? Yeah, this is John. Listen-

(he has a hard time getting the words out)

I got to tell you- you and Joe- you have to know . . .

FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. THE WASHINGTON HOME-KITCHEN-NIGHT.
The phone rings. MRS. WASHINGTON answers the phone. A beat later, REGGIE appears in the kitchen, talking, while MRS. WASHINGTON listens on the phone.

REGGIE:

Is it Mike? Man, he better have a good reason for bailing on-

(He sees his mother’s face. She is ashen.)

Mom? What’s wrong?

( He runs to her as she drops the phone.)

Mom?

(She stares at him, hand over her mouth)

MOM?!?

DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. SOME ANONYMOUS STREET BETWEEN THE WASHINGTON HOUSE AND ZIEGLER HOUSE-NIGHT
CLOSEUP OF: Reggie’s shoes as he runs, in SLOW MOTION. CAMERA PANS UP to his tear-streaked face. EXTREME CLOSEUP of a tear flying off his cheek and-
CUT TO:
INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE, LIVING ROOM- NIGHT.
EXTREME CLOSEUP of tear in SLOW MOTION splashing on end table. CAMERA PANS UP to Rose’s tear-streaked face. She raises a black cloth.
CUT TO:
CLOSEUP of her face reflected in a MIRROR. As she drapes the black cloth over it, CAMERA GOES TO BLACK
CUT TO:
INT. STEELER HOUSE, BATHROOM NIGHT
CAMERA is UNCOVERED by dark-colored towel, which PATRICK, having just showered, starts to dry himself off, staring into CAMERA as if it is a mirrored medicine cabinet. He reaches toward the CAMERA, as if to open the cabinet.
CUT TO:
INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE, FRONT DOOR NIGHT
The door bursts open, and we see REGGIE standing there, sweaty and panting.

REGGIE:

Mrs. Z?

The CAMERA PAN-ZOOMS a fast 160˚ to a startled ROSE. Her face fills with sadness and compassion.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE. Until now, he’d been hoping his mom got it wrong, but he sees the truth in ROSE’S eyes. Michael is dead.

REGGIE:

Mrs. Z- I-

(he bursts into tears)

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE collapsing into ROSE’S arms. She holds him, as much as for her own comfort as his, and strokes his head.
SFX: breaking glass and crashing, all muffled, coming from upstairs. We also hear RORY yelling, muffled, in German, Hebrew, or Yiddish- words that are not English. REGGIE pulls away from ROSE, wiping his eyes.

REGGIE:

Is he okay?

ROSE:

Maybe you should talk to him, honey.

REGGIE:

Yeah, okay.

CAMERA PANS OUT as Reggie climbs the stairs. ROSE sits down on the sofa, hands folded in lap. She stares into space.
CUT TO:
DOWN ANGLE VIEW at TOP OF STAIRS. We see REGGIE coming up the stairs, and he pauses, looking down the hall at:
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MICHAEL’s BEDROOM DOOR. It has drawings and signs on it, much as a typical teenage boy’s door would have on it.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE looking away from Michael’s room, pained. Another crash from RORY’S room, less muffled. RORY’s room is in the opposite direction down the other end of the hall. REGGIE heads that way.
CUT TO:
INT. RORY GRUSKIN’S BEDROOM.
RORY is staggering around his room. Perhaps he is a bit drunk. Certainly his grief weighs heavily upon him. He is swearing, exclaiming in whatever language he has been speaking all evening. Once in a while he bumps into something, kicking things over, but he can only see the face of his grandson.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE as he opens the door into RORY’S room. He takes in the scene quickly, and bends down to pick up a couple objects that could break if RORY stepped on them and injure his feet.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of RORY’S tear-stained face. He squints at REGGIE and his face goes blank. Then he vents his grief and rage.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of both REGGIE and RORY. REGGIE is bewildered, then hurt by RORY’S words.

REGGIE:

Mr. G?

RORY:

You! You know why my Michael, why my boychik was killed? He was killed because his friend was black!

REGGIE reacts as if he’s been slapped.

REGGIE:

What?

RORY:

I knew! I saw this would happen! If only Michael had kept true to our ways- but he made friends with you, who know nothing of our ways-you don’t understand our culture-it made people around us resent, you understand? They talked- and now he is dead-

RORY stumbles towards REGGIE, perhaps to strike him, but falls to his knees

REGGIE:

(Emotionless)

Mr. Gruskin.

RORY looks up at REGGIE, half-afraid. He has heard voices spoken in that tone too often in the camp.

REGGIE:

I understand enough. I understand that you are gonna grieve and pray for Mike’s soul in your way. So am I, in my way. Different words, different actions, sure. But we’re going to be doing the same thing. I- I loved him, too. He was- is my best friend.

CUT TO:
EXTREME CLOSE UP OF:
RORY’S trembling face and watery eyes. He closes his eyes, deeply ashamed.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and RORY. REGGIE slowly backs out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly. RORY lets out a moan and then a loud cry. He staggers to his window and looks out to see Reggie running as fast as he can out into the street, in the night.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP OF RORY.

RORY:

Oh God, forgive this stupid old man . . .

SFX: RORY’S bedroom door being opened quickly. We hear ROSE’S voice off camera

ROSE (OS):

(Angrily)

What did you tell that poor boy, Dad?

RORY shuts his eyes.
CUT TO:
EXT. SOME ANONYMOUS STREET, FAIRFAX DISTRICT. NIGHT.
CLOSE UP of PATRICK, on his CELL PHONE.

PATRICK:

Listen, you stupid fuck. It’s fine, I’m telling you. No one even showed up at my house. They don’t know shit. Get your ass down here.

CUT TO:
FAR SHOT of PATRICK standing on the front step of a house. The door opens to reveal his COHORT, who steps out warily. PATRICK hangs up, pockets his phone, and throws an arm around the COHORT’s shoulders, grinning.

COHORT:

What are we gonna do?

PATRICK:

No, my friend. The question is, what aren’t we gonna do?

PATRICK whoops and slaps his COHORT on the back, hard.
FADE CUT TO:
EXT. SOME OTHER ANONYMOUS STREET, FAIRFAX DISTRICT, LOS ANGELES, NIGHT.
　
FAR SHOT of KEN, MORT, and some other boys, walking together from having obviously just played some basketball. They are chatting, laughing, engaging in horse play, then suddenly MORT looks ahead, and grunts in annoyance.
CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER FAR SHOT of PATRICK and some of his Freedom Fighters with him facing KEN’S group.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of PATRICK. PATRICK sneers.

PATRICK:

Well, well. Boys.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of KEN and MORT. KEN takes a step forward, but MORT throws his arm across KEN’S chest.

MORT:

He ain’t worth it, man.

　
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of PATRICK. He acts insulted, glancing back at his buddies.

PATRICK:

I ain’t worth it? What am I not worth? I think you’ve got me confused with someone else- ohhhh I know! You must be thinking of that Jew boy that always hangs out with you- he’s like one of you- your boyfriend? Right?

(He laughs at his own cleverness)

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of KEN and MORT.

KEN:

The fuck? You talking about Michael? Michael and Reggie? Man, you wanna try telling that shit to Reggie?

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP SHOT of PATRICK.

PATRICK:

Oh- my bad- I didn’t realize Reggie wasn’t here- you all look the same to me, anyhow.

CUT TO:

MEDIUM SIDE SHOT of EVERYONE.

KEN lunges at PATRICK.

KEN:

Motherfucker!

MORT grabs KEN and hauls him back.

MORT:

Chill, man

(over his shoulder to PATRICK)

You wanna take off.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of PATRICK.

PATRICK:

Figures- you all look out for each other. Yeah- go, brothers.

(pumps a fist in the air)

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MORT.
MORT spins around. He’s had it with this asshole. MORT steps forward quickly and-
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SIDE SHOT of MORT and PATRICK. MORT is standing toe to toe with PATRICK. MORT’s a big guy. Taller than Patrick by nearly a full head. Patrick’s buddies tense for a fight- but they don’t like going up against Mort. Be like going up against a brick wall. Then all these athletes to back Mort up.

MORT:

Go.

(Beat)

PATRICK:

You don’t scare me.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of PATRICK’S hand. He’s got a switchblade or some kind of small knife out, less than an inch from Mort’s stomach.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP UNDER SHOT of MORT’S face. His eyes glance down, then up at PATRICK again. He doesn’t back down.
　
CUT TO
MEDIUM SIDE SHOT of MORT and PATRICK. Still toe to toe

MORT:

I don’t got to scare you to stick your little toothpick up your ass.

(beat)

PATRICK thinks better of it- he’s gotten away with murder- so far. But why push his luck? He folds his knife, pockets it, and steps to the side off the sidewalk.

PATRICK:

Nah. It’s a nice night. No need to get all excited. But be careful. One by one-

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP OF PATRICK. He slowly raises his finger up like it’s a gun and shoots an invisible bullet at KEN, then blows on his finger.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP OF KEN:

KEN:

Whatever, bozack.

CUT TO:
FAR SHOT from ACROSS THE STREET. PATRICK’S BOYS all step into the street and walk past KEN’S group. KEN’S group stays put, watching the Freedom Fighters leave, muttering curses and gesturing.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF KEN and MORT:

KEN:

Goddamn, Michael keeps making it all complicated for us- why can’t Reggie just wake up and cut that fool loose?

MORT:

Who the fool? What, you gonna tell a brother he gotta give up his best friend? Damn you stupid.

KEN:

Motherfucker, why you always taking Reggie’s side?

MORT:

Ain’t on nobody’s side-I just don’t believe in coming in between two friends- and it aint’ none of your damn business, neither.

KEN stares at MORT. Then shakes his head in exasperation and starts walking.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MORT: He stares after KEN, sighing in frustration.
FADE TO BLACK
FADE TO:
INT. MAMA MARIE’S BED. NIGHT.
The CAMERA slowly PANS UP from the foot of the bed, revealing that there are people in the bed- JOHN and MAMA MARIE, and stops on a CLOSEUP of JOHN with his arm around MAMA MARIE. MAMA MARIE is smoking a cigarette.
Slowly the following words appear:
October 28th, 2013.
Early morning.
JOHN is staring up at the ceiling. He’s very preoccupied. MAMA MARIE looks at him knowingly.

MAMA MARIE:

You thinkin’ about that poor boy?

JOHN:

Yeah. That was just messed up. I got this feeling, deep down, it just wasn’t supposed to happen, you know?

MAMA MARIE looks at JOHN, considering something. She makes up her mind.

MAMA MARIE:

That may be just more truthful than you know, honey. You remember telling me there’s some folk here with mighty destinies?

JOHN:

(indulgently)

Yeah, baby.

MAMA MARIE:

(seriously)

The cards tell me something’s gonna happen to this city because of what happened to that boy. He and his friend- they’re tied into the city. The city needs them. Still needs them both. (she stubs out the cigarette)

JOHN:

(confused)

You mean Reggie and – and Michael? But Michael’s dead-

MAMA MARIE:

There’s dead- and there’s dead. Death, spirits, souls- they’re all nothing like you think or know.

JOHN:

This is more of that voodoo?

MAMA MARIE sits up abruptly in bed, angry.

MAMA MARIE:

I never asked you to believe in my religion, but you better not tell me that my religion isn’t as real as anything you know!

JOHN:

I didn’t mean- honey- just

MAMA MARIE:

You think you been getting lucky with me cuz of your good looks? You may be handsome, but I chose you John, because you got strength, and I’m gonna need it because tomorrow I’m gonna doing some wicked conjuring, but I need you, John. Are you gonna be with me?

JOHN:

Yeah- yeah. Don’t be angry, baby. This is just- I don’t really know anything about this, Ann Marie.

MAMA MARIE:

(mollified)

Well, not to worry. I do, and I know plenty. And I know this city needs my protection, and so do you. You know what else you need, John?

JOHN:

Do tell . . .

MAMA MARIE:

Breakfast. You just lay back, honey-

JOHN:

I think I’ll just skip right to dessert.

JOHN pulls MAMA MARIE in for a long lingering kiss.
DISSOLVE OUT.
In a series of DISSOLVE SHOTS we see:
-JOE hanging up a sign in the window of his storefront door.
-CLOSE UP of the SIGN. It reads: CLOSED INDEFINITELY. IN LOVING MEMORY OF MICHAEL ZIEGLER.
-JOE leaning his head against the glass of the window, eyes closed.
-JOHN and MAMA MARIE in the shower
-ROSE folding clothes- and holding up a t-shirt and clasping it to her heart.
-RORY in his room, praying.
-REGGIE and MRS. WASHINGTON in MRS. WASHINGTON’S CAR. She is driving him to school.
CUT TO:
EXT. FRONT of WHITMAN HIGH SCHOOL. EARLY MORNING. MRS. WASHINGTON’S car pulls up in front and parks.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT THROUGH THE DRIVER’S WINDOW. MRS. WASHINGTON looks at Reggie and lays her hand on his cheek. Reggie pulls away, but not in anger.

MRS. WASHINGTON:

You’ll be okay?

REGGIE:

Yeah, Mom. I just couldn’t stay home- gotta keep my mind busy

MRS. WASHINGTON:

You change you mind, you just call, okay honey?

REGGIE:

Thanks. Really.

REGGIE gives his mother a quick peck on the cheek, and gets out of the car.
CUT TO:
INT WHITMAN HIGH SCHOOL, HALLWAY. FAR SHOT of REGGIE approaching the CAMERA. All around him, students go about their normal business. One or two approach him to give condolences.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MICHAEL’S LOCKER. Notes and pictures are taped to the front- left by friends and students to honor his memory. REGGIE steps up to the locker, and stares at it.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE’S FACE

REGGIE:

Gonna miss you, man.

A sudden burst of laughter causes REGGIE to turn around to see-
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of PATRICK in SLOW MOTION passing by, grinning at REGGIE over his shoulder.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE watching PATRICK in SLOW MOTION.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF PATRICK, with two or three of his buddies, in SLOW MOTION, still walking- he turns his head away and walks into the crowd of students.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE watching PATRICK in SLOW MOTION. He looks down.
FADE TO BLACK.
FADE UP INTO:
INT. LOCKER ROOM, WHITMAN HIGH SCHOOL GYM.
The varsity basketball team is getting dressed for practice. Reggie, having arrived early, is seated, already changed, tying his shoes and we
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP UNDER SHOT of REGGIE’S FACE and shoulders. We see a hand come down on his shoulder.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MORT looking down at REGGIE.

MORT:

I heard. I’m sorry, man.

CUT TO:

MEDIUM SHOT of both boys.

REGGIE:

Yeah. Thanks.

CUT TO INT. SHOT showing KEN and a couple other teammates coming in to change. KEN sees REGGIE.

KEN:

Yo, Reggie.

REGGIE:

Hey.

KEN:

I just wanted to say I heard about Michael. That’s tough, man.

REGGIE:

Yeah.

KEN:

They find who did it?

REGGIE:

Why are you even pretending to care, Ken? You never gave a shit about Michael!

KEN:

What the fuck, man?

REGGIE stands up to confront KEN.

REGGIE:

For years, bitch. For years, all I hear from you is "Why you hang out with that white boy?" "Why don’t you chill on Michael, your hair’s starting to curl round your ears" "Let Mike find his own people" Fuck- and now here you are, "They find who done it" Please- you know what? You feeling guilty? Huh? You maybe feeling a little bad for talking shit about Mike now? For letting him know exactly, exactly what you thought of him, which wasn’t really very fucking much was it?

KEN:

Hey! HEY! Come on- yes- yeah I feel bad- but come on! Can’t a brother ask if you’re okay, let you know he feels for ya? It’s not my fault that Mike probably had it coming to him anyway, stickin' his-

REGGIE yells with rage and charges KEN. In seconds they are in a full-blown free-for-all fight. After a short while, the coach comes running in and we
CUT TO:
UNDER SHOT of REGGIE on top of KEN, and the camera goes to SLOW MOTION as the coach grabs REGGIE and starts pulling him off KEN, REGGIE takes one last swing at KEN, tears flying off his face and we
CUT TO:
INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE, MASTER BATHROOM. NIGHT.
CLOSE UP of JOE splashing water on his face. He looks up at the mirror-
CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT at JOE’S reflection in the mirror. He stands staring at himself.
CUT TO:

MEDIUM SHOT of the bathroom door opening. ROSE stands in the doorway, pulling on a lightweight jacket. JOE looks at her.

ROSE:

Joe. The Epsteins are bringing us the seudas havraah in about an hour, but I need to go to the store to buy some flour and wine, and – well- do you want anything?

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT of JOE from ROSE’S POV- JOE reaches out to ROSE and strokes her cheek. She takes his hand into hers.

JOE:

Why don’t I go. You stay here with your father. I think- I think he just needs you here for now.

CUT TO:
CLOSEUP SHOT of ROSE

ROSE:

Okay, Joe. But you hurry back. I need you here too. I just can’t- I need everyone here too. And I need Michael here too.

(she bursts into tears)

CUT TO:
OVER ROSE’S SHOULDER SHOT. JOE takes ROSE into her arms and holds her close. The CAMERA SLOWLY ZOOMS into a CLOSEUP of JOE’S mouth as he ad libs words of comfort.
DISSOLVE CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of RORY’s mouth. He’s praying. Reciting the Kaddish. The CAMERA ZOOMS OUT to show RORY bent over the downstairs dining table. The CAMERA continues to ZOOM out until the bottom of the stairs are visible. We see JOE and ROSE coming down the stairs . JOE’S dressed to go out. He stops at the bottom to give ROSE A kiss, and then he goes out the front door. ROSE approaches RORY and sits down next to him. She respectfully waits for him to finish reciting. RORY looks at her when he’s done.

RORY:

Rose. Last night I was a schmendrick. I told Mike’s friend, that Reggie boy- I told him Michael got killed because of him.

ROSE:

Oh, Father.

RORY:

You see- in the camp, we learn one thing.

CUT TO:
INT. BARRACKS- DASCHAU CONCENTRATION CAMP, JANUARY 1943- LATE AT NIGHT.
EXTREME CLOSE-UP of YOUNG RORY. A bright beam of light washes over his face. His eyes are shut. He opens them again and hand shaking, reaches under his mattress.
CUT TO:
INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE-DINING TABLE-NIGHT.
CLOSEUP of RORY. He is struggling with what he has to say next.

RORY:

We learn that- we learn-

CUT TO:
INT. BARRACKS- DASCHAU CONCENTRATION CAMP, JANUARY 1943- LATE AT NIGHT.
EXTREME CLOSE-UP of YOUNG RORY. A bright beam of light upon his face. He pulls his hand out from underneath the mattress. He’s holding some jewelry in his open hand. The CAMERA TRACKS RIGHT with the beam of light which suddenly moves to another man’s horrified face.

HERR KNOPF (V.O.)

Danke

(chuckles)

CUT TO:
INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE-DINING TABLE-NIGHT.
CLOSEUP of RORY.

RORY:

We learn we have no friends. I buy my life for one more night, but it means what? It means another man, a good man dies.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of ROSE and RORY.

ROSE:

Dad, it was a long time ago. You did what you needed to survive.

RORY:

His name was Aaron. This I never forgot.

ROSE:

Dad- this doesn’t change anything. You survived. We’ll survive this too.

RORY:

I need Reggie’s number.

ROSE:

What?

RORY:

Reggie’s number, Reggie’s number! I need to call the boy.

ROSE:

Reggie? Whatever for?

RORY:

Shivah. He should sit with us. I think- I think Michael would want that, no?

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of ROSE. She smiles sadly.

ROSE:

Yes, he would.

FADE TO BLACK:
FADE UP TO:
EXT. FAIRFAX MEMORIAL PARK. OVERCAST MORNING.
OVERHEAD SHOT of the MOURNERS gathered around MICHAEL ZIEGLER’s grave. This is his funeral. Slowly the following words appear across the screen:
October 30th, 2013
Late morning.
Fairfax Memorial Park
As the CAMERA PANS DOWN and ZOOMS SLOWLY into a MEDIUMS SHOT of REGGIE standing to the side of the grave, we hear the indistinct V.O. of the rabbi doing the burial rites. A TIME ELAPSE occurs, during which the sky darkens slightly and the other MOURNERS fade out of view. Then there’s only REGGIE and JOHN MITCHELL. JOHN puts a hand on REGGIE’s shoulder, but REGGIE doesn’t look away from the grave.

JOHN:

Reg, you gonna be okay?

REGGIE:

Yeah.

JOHN:

Well, you know, if you need anything- you can just-

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT of REGGIE from JOHN’S POV. Now REGGIE looks at JOHN. He’s angry.

REGGIE:

No- what I need is for everyone to back off- everyone’s acting like I’m gonna break into little pieces- it’s like folk think I can’t deal, like I can’t even live without Michael!

JOHN:

Reg, we all know how close you two were- I just

REGGIE:

Go! I’m fine.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of JOHN and REGGIE. JOHN fades from view, and the sky darkens a bit more. The CAMERA SLOWLY ZOOMS into a CLOSE-UP of REGGIE as the scene DISSOLVES TO:
EXT. WHITMAN HIGH SCHOOL DINING AREA- TABLES and BENCHES- SEVERAL WEEKS EARLIER. LUNCH HOUR.
The words appear across the screen: Early September
REGGIE and MICHAEL are seated with their lunches, chatting and eating.
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL.

REGGIE:

So I’m gonna try out for the varsity team.

MICHAEL:

You’re not even gonna try for j.v.?

REGGIE:

That’s not even a backup plan, man.

MICHAEL:

Yeah? Nice! You’ll make it for sure.

REGGIE:

Yeah, ain’t no doubt. You gonna come watch?

MICHAEL:

Sure thing. You know I’ll be there. I’ll even wear my cheerleader outfit for ya.

CLOSE SHOT of REGGIE dropping his utensil and pushing his tray away.

REGGIE:

Look what you did. Made me lose my appetite.

CLOSE SHOT of MICHAEL pretending to be offended.

MICHAEL:

Well, you so fat already. Just trying to help.

MEDIUM SHOT of the two boys glaring at each other. They begin to struggle to keep their angry faces on, and end up laughing boisterously.

CUT TO:
EXT. FAIRFAX MEMORIAL PARK. EVENING, October 30th. It is dark.
CLOSE SHOT of REGGIE’S face as he pulls himself out of his memories. SLOW PAN around to an OVER-THE-SHOULDER SHOT behind REGGIE of the grave, which now has been filled in.
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of REGGIE

REGGIE:

Gonna miss you, man.

CUT TO:
EXT. SOME RANDOM STREET, FAIRFAX
FAR SHOT OF RORY. RORY is walking down the street, holding a small plastic bag with candles inside, along with a bottle of wine. SLOW ZOOM and PAN on Rory. He is moving in pain, less physical than emotional. He is barely paying attention to his surroundings, but then he notices the group approaching him. PATRICK and his followers, swaggering. MEDIUM SHOT of RORY slowing to a stop. PATRICK steps rather close to RORY, trying to scare him. RORY begins to step back, but then-
CUT TO:
INT. BARRACKS- DASCHAU CONCENTRATION CAMP, JANUARY 1943- LATE AT NIGHT. CLOSE-UP OF YOUNG RORY crying in the darkness, alone. SLOW ZOOM OUT as we see the other inmates deliberately ignoring RORY or staring at him in bitter anger at his betrayal.
FADE CUT TO:
EXT. SOME RANDOM STREET, FAIRFAX, PRESENT
CLOSE-UP of RORY’S face. His expression hardens. He won’t betray anyone ever again. CAMERA
TRACKS DOWN to follow RORY’s hand as he reaches for the bottle of wine, grasping the neck.
CUT TO:
PATRICK’S eyes watching RORY’s hand. He sneers.

PATRICK:

Come on. Let’s go.

CUT TO:
EXT. SAME RANDOM STREET, FAIRFAX, LOS ANGELES.
FAR SHOT OF RORY, PATRICK and the BOYS.
PATRICK and the BOYS swagger around RORY, who remains frozen, hand still on bottle until they are well past him.
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of RORY’S face. He sighs, exhausted.

RORY:

(To himself) Give me strength.

CUT TO:
INT. MORT’S LIVING ROOM, NIGHT.
MEDIUM SHOT of MORT, KEN, and others familiar to us from the basketball and high school scenes. They are playing video games, and smoking cigarettes. No adults are around. One of the boys enters with pizza, and the boys begin digging in. Ken speaks around a mouthful of pizza.

KEN:

Pretty sure I know who killed Mike.

MORT:

You’re really stuck on this?

KEN:

Look, yes, I don’t get it, what Reggie and Mike were, this buddy situation, yeah? But whatever the reason, no one had to die. Not no one. Come on, we all know who did it. That fuck, Patrick.

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of MORT. He knows Patrick did it too. The police don’t have any clear witness reports, but everyone knows deep down inside the cancer that Patrick is, the hate he has within.

MORT:

(Beat)

Where you going with this?

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of KEN. He’s stopped eating.

KEN:

(Beat)

Motherfucker’s gotta pay. He hurt Reggie-

KEN looks at MORT. He is full of guilt, confusion, anger . . . and vengeance.

KEN:

-and Reggie’s our boy.

DISSOLVE CUT TO:

INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE, RORY’S BEDROOM. LATE NIGHT.
MEDIUM SHOT of RORY in bed, wide awake, staring into space. SLOW ZOOM INTO his eyes, then SLOW PAN LEFT to his digital clock, which indicates it is past midnight. These words slowly come up on the screen:
October 31st, 2013.
Hallowe’en
All Souls Day
SLOW ZOOM IN continues into clock display. Then SLOW ZOOM OUT, to show a different digital clock, later in the morning, in a lighter and different room. REGGIE WASHINGTON’S ROOM.
In a series of DISSOLVE CUTS we watch:
REGGIE sitting up in bed.
REGGIE getting into the shower
REGGIE looking in the fridge for something to grab to take with him, but he is not hungry.
REGGIE kissing his mother on the cheek, and walking out of the house.
REGGIE walking down the street.
DISSOLVE CUT TO:
TRACK SHOT of REGGIE passing MAMA MARIE’s shop, and as he passes the shop, CAMERA STOP.
CUT TO:
INT. MAMA MARIE’S KITCHEN. MORNING.
MEDIUM SHOT of MAMA MARIE
MAMA MARIE is cooking several dishes at once. She is not flustered, but trying to do many things at once is distracting her slightly. She does not notice JOHN sneaking in until he comes up behind her to embrace her. When he does, she is startled, and grabs a large knife. She spins in his arms, and brings the knife dangerously close to JOHN’s throat.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT of JOHN’s face from behind MAMA MARIE.

JOHN:

Whoa, Ann Marie! What the fuck?

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MAMA MARIE and JOHN. MAMA MARIE lowers the knife, both relieved and pissed. She slams the knife down on the counter and shoves JOHN slightly.
　

MAMA MARIE:

I told you not to come here! I’m busy.

JOHN:

(Teasingly)

I couldn’t stay away. Is that blackened chicken?

JOHN reaches out to pick up a piece, and MAMA MARIE slaps his hand so hard JOHN cries out in surprise.

MAMA MARIE:

Ain’t for you.

JOHN:

Well, then who? You got another man?

MAMA MARIE:

(chuckling sardonically)

Oh, he ain’t no man. The Baron is the Baron, that’s all there is to it.

JOHN:

The who?

MAMA MARIE:

(Exasperated)

I don’t have time for this. You really want to help me out, John?

JOHN attempts to take MAMA MARIE into his arms.

JOHN:

Anything you want, baby. You know that.

MAMA MARIE crosses over to a countertop, grabs a set of keys and holds them out to JOHN.

MAMA MARIE:

Here. Go to the shop, and go in the back room, the one I cleared out last night. Paint it black, all of it. Paint’s by the door, ready to go.

JOHN:

What? I don’t get it.

MAMA MARIE:

Later, John. I will explain later. But now, this needs to be done. And don’t forget to open windows. Paint fumes give me a headache something terrible.

JOHN:

Yeah, okay sure.

JOHN takes the keys, then attempts to kiss MAMA MARIE, but she is already back in overdrive mode. John shakes his head, and leaves.
CUT TO:

EXT: FAIRFAX MEMORIAL PARK, MICHAEL ZIEGLER’S GRAVE. DAYTIME.
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE, standing by MIKE ZIEGLER’S grave. He has his hand on the gravestone marker.

REGGIE:

It’s Halloween, Mike. Remember when we used to go out for candy? That one year when we dressed up as Cyborg and Robin, and no one could figure out who the hell we were? And we ended up explaining at every single place we hit up for candy who we- who we . . . .

(Beat)

Mike.

(Beat)

I know I gotta keep on going, but I never thought I’d have to do this alone, man. I never thought you wouldn’t be around, you know? You and me, best friends forever, right? Right?

REGGIE slowly backs away from the gravestone, then as he turns around-

CUT TO:

CLOSE UP of REGGIE as a suggestion of a ripple, a shimmer, not obvious, but just a hint of something occurs behind REGGIE. MICHAEL’S voice suddenly floats out of nowhere.

MICHAEL:

(V.O.)

Sweet.

REGGIE spins around-
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE staring at MICHAEL’S grave.

REGGIE:

Mike?

CUT TO:
FAR SHOT of REGGIE looking around frantically.
CUT TO:
OVERHEAD FAR SHOT, SLOWING PANNING OUT above the entire cemetery as Reggie continues searching.
DISSOLVE CUT TO:
EXT: MAMA MARIE’S SHOP, DUSK.
FAR SHOT of the entrance. Trick O’ Treat-ers are making their way up and down the street.
CUT TO:
INT. MAMA MARIE’S SHOP, BACK ROOM.
MEDIUM SHOT of MAMA MARIE lighting red candles. The room is now black from top to bottom. The food offerings MAMA MARIE cooked earlier are placed strategically within symbols drawn with chalk on the floor. JOHN is just visible, standing nervously behind MAMA MARIE. MAMA MARIE finishes lighting candles. She glances over at JOHN.

MAMA MARIE:

John. I’m sorry I was crabby this morning. This is an important summoning. Yesterday I spoke with Legba and she told me I needed to talk to the Baron.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of JOHN’S face. He nods.

JOHN:

It’s okay.

CUT TO: CLOSE UP of MAMA MARIE as she turns to face JOHN, smiling.

MAMA MARIE

Okay, hon, best you leave for a while, this is going to take some deep concentration and-

MAMA MARIE sees JOHN, and she gasps.

MAMA MARIE:

Oh!

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of JOHN- but he is not JOHN anymore. His facial features are unchanged, but he still somehow looks more gaunt. His eyes have gone from brown to icy blue. We see, and don’t see, a top hat perched jauntily upon his head. This is BARON SAMEDI, and when he smiles, he has almost too many teeth. When he speaks, his voice echoes strangely, and we can almost hear the creaking of cemetery gates in his voice.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MAMA MARIE. She is deferential and scared all at once. She does a small, uncertain curtsey.

MAMA MARIE:

Baron S-Samedi.

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind MAMA MARIE, MEDIUM SHOT of BARON SAMEDI. CAMERA continues to TRACK the BARON. He touches his not-hat in a gesture of acknowledgement.

BARON:

Ann-Marie Cazeau. The need for ritual is part. I thank you, but this is an important hour, and tradition can wait until another time.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MAMA MARIE. She smiles nervously. We can see the candle flames behind her are all blue.

MAMA MARIE:

I am your servant, Baron Samedi.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM TRACK SHOT of the BARON as he steps slowly forward.

BARON:

Yes. Yes, you are. And you’ve served me well, mambo. You’ve given me much strength, more believers, and of course, my loas are greater in number because of you.

TRACK SHOT of the BARON as he kneels, sniffing a platter of meat. He looks up at MAMA MARIE, all trace of geniality gone.

BARON:

You must prepare the guide, for the apocalypse that is coming. You must do this, now, tonight.

CUT TO:

MEDIUM SHOT of MAMA MARIE. She wants to acquiesce, to please, but she is afraid of angering the Baron.

MAMA MARIE:

Yes, yes, of course. Legba told me. But-one of the boys who was supposed to be the guide is dead.

CUT TO:
TRACK SHOT of the BARON as he looks up at MAMA MARIE with amused scorn. Then he stands up, and crosses the room towards the very nervous MAMA MARIE.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of the BARON and MAMA MARIE as he leans very slightly towards her.

BARON:

I am well aware of that. He belongs to me now. His god’s dead are also my dead, Ann Marie. But this city needs its guide. You must summon him, and he must be with his brother. You must perform the rite of the dessounin.

MAMA MARIE gasps. This is the darkest of darkest vondu- true Obeah.

MAMA MARIE:

The dessounin . . . Oh Lord. I’m to take the dead child’s loa, his soul and transfer it into his brother, his close friend’s body. Two souls in one body, and no one knows what the consequences be . . .

BARON:

(Sharply)

Ann Marie.

MAMA MARIE gives her full attention to the Baron.

BARON:

This must be done. A great darkness is coming to this city, and the two brothers need to be reunited. I may be master of my domain, but I do not welcome the souls who come to me before their time, The child, Michael Ziegler . . . he was not to be mine for some time. You understand? The scales are unbalanced. Restore them, Ann Marie. Tonight. My servant spirits, the guedes are strong tonight, they will assist you. Tonight.

CUT TO:

TRACK SHOT of the BARON as he walks back over to the platter of meat he sniffed earlier. He crouches, and touches a finger to the meat, licks his finger. He smiles at MAMA MARIE.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of the BARON’S blue eyes. His smile dos not reach them.

BARON:

Mambo. Farewell.

Then the BARON is gone, and it is only JOHN. He begins to shiver uncontrollably.

CUT TO:

MEDIUM shot of MAMA MARIE and JOHN as she drops to her knees next to JOHN. She gathers JOHN into her arms, crooning to him. It is no easy or pleasurable experience to be ridden by Death.
FADE TO:
INT. ZIEGLER HOUSE, FRONT DOOR ENTRANCE. NIGHT.
A knocking is heard, and ROSE appears in the hallway to answer the door. When she opens the door, we see REGGIE standing there, with his mobile phone in hand.

REGGIE:

Hey Mrs. Z. I got a call from Mr. G?

CUT TO:
INT. ZIEGLER’S HOUSE, MICHAEL’S ROOM
MEDIUM SHOT of RORY standing inside, looking through various drawings of MICHAEL’S.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of the DOOR to MICHAEL’S ROOM as REGGIE pokes his head within.

REGGIE:

Mr. G?

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of RORY as he turns to REGGIE: His voice is raw with pain.

RORY:

Reggie. I was looking at Mike’s artwork.

REGGIE crosses over to RORY. He gestures questioningly towards the drawings. RORY hands them over. REGGIE leafs through them. He stops, takes one out, and places it on top of the other drawings.
CUT TO:
OVERHEAD CLOSE SHOT of the drawing. It is the tiger drawing, fully completed and signed by Michael.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE staring at the drawing.

REGGIE:

Mike did this, this just a little bit while ago. I remember.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of RORY looking at Reggie. He closes his eyes.

RORY:

I am old, Reggie. I grieve that I see my grandson die before me. No man should ever know that sorrow.

(Beat)

But no friend should know that sorrow either.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and RORY facing each other. They embrace.
CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER CLOSE SHOT of REGGIE as he releases RORY. He holds up the tiger drawing.

REGGIE:

Is it okay if I keep this one?

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of RORY and REGGIE

RORY:

Yes, yes, it is yours. No need to ask me.

RORY and REGGIE smile at each other, sharing their memories of Mike.
CUT TO:
INT. JOHN’S BATHROOM.
OVER THE SHOULDER CLOSE UP SHOT of JOHN’S bathroom mirror as JOHN splashes water on his face. AS he straightens up, we can see his face in the mirror and it is still ashen.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of JOHN as he steps over to his weight scales.
CUT TO:
OVERHEAD CLOSE SHOT of JOHN’S feet stepping onto the scales. As the numbers spin-
CUT TO:
UNDERNEATH CLOSE SHOT of JOHN looking down at the scales. His eyes widen in disbelief.

JOHN:

I lost 9 pounds today? Fuck.

CUT TO:

INT. STEELER HOUSE –DEN- LATE NIGHT.
SLOW PAN from CLOSE SHOT of PATRICK staring into CABINET at gun to EXTREME CLOSE UP of PATRICK’s face. He is hungry for the power of life and death again. He never blinks.

CUT TO:
EXT. FAIRFAX MEMORIAL PARK, MICHAEL ZIEGLER’S grave. These words appear slowly on the screen:
October 31st , 2013
Hallowe’en
All Saints Eve
Then they fade out. Next, these words appear:
Midnight
November 1st, 2013
Day of the Dead
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MAMA MARIE kneeling by MICHAEL’S grave. She has a large bag with her, which she places upon the ground and removes various items necessary to the ritual, arranging them around herself and the grave. Lastly and most importantly, she removes the govi jar, the earthenware jar which will serve as the temporary vessel for Michael’s soul.

MAMA MARIE:

Soon you be with Reggie, child. Then you two can follow your destiny.

MAMA MARIE begins to chant and perform the ritual. As she does so, we begin to see spirits, the guedes, materializing just enough to be perceived, swirling around MAMA MARIE and around the govi jar. One passes very close to the CAMERA and-
CUT TO:
EXT. REGGIE WASHINGTON’S HOUSE, UNDERNEATH REGGIE’S BEDROOM WINDOW, NIGHT.
EXTREME CLOSE UP of a large leaf blocking the CAMERA, which is then swept aside by KEN, and ZOOM OUT to show KEN crouched underneath REGGIE’S bedroom window. KEN reaches up and raps on REGGIE’s window.
CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind KEN as REGGIE peers through the blinds and then pulls the blinds up to stare at KEN. Sighing and shaking his head, REGGIE slides open the window. There is no screen over it, but there are bars.
CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind REGGIE of KEN.

KEN:

Yo.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE. He is annoyed at KEN’S presence, yet a little curious.

REGGIE:

‘Sup?

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of KEN

KEN:

I just- well I-

(Beat)

It wasn’t right, what happened to Mike.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE: He speaks with quiet intensity.

REGGIE:

You mean before or after he was killed?

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind REGGIE. KEN reacts, stung, then angry.

KEN:

Aw, come on-

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE. He is merciless.

REGGIE:

No, man. You can’t be coming around here all sorry. Not with the bullshit you said all these years. You think Mike needed to hear that bullshit? You think I needed to hear it? You wanna come and act all sorry now? Still bullshit. No difference.

REGGIE begins to close the window, but KEN grabs the window.
CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT of KEN. He is desperate.

KEN:

Listen, man. I fucked up, alright? But at least let me try to fix it. You gotta-

CUT TO:
EXT. FAIRFAX MEMORIAL PARK, MICHAEL’S GRAVE, NIGHT.
CLOSE UP of MAMA MARIE drenched in sweat, still chanting. The guedes are moving quickly, whirling madly around MAMA MARIE. Some of them are even making contact, buffeting MAMA MARIE like heavy winds would. MAMA MARIE holds up the jar.

MAMA MARIE:

(To the grave) Now, child. Time to give your loa a new home.

(Beat)

(To herself)The guedes are crazy tonight. So much power.

TRACK SHOT of MAMA MARIE holding the mouth of the jar close to the grave. We see a light, a mist, something coming through the dirt, gathering, coalescing. This is MICHAEL’S soul.

MAMA MARIE:

That’s it, yes-

Suddenly, in SLOW MOTION, a guede slams into MAMA MARIE’S hand, and she unintentionally releases the jar. MAMA MARIE reacts in shock. She fumbles after the jar, but it eludes her grasp. It hits the ground, and shatters. Back to normal speed, we
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of MAMA MARIE. She is completely stunned. She has failed, just like that.

MAMA MARIE:

Oh, Lord.
TRACK SHOT of MAMA MARIE lurching to her feet. She absent mindedly picks up the bag, but doesn’t put anything back into it. She walks away, falteringly.
DISSOLVE CUT TO:
EXT. REGGIE WASHINGTON’S HOUSE, UNDERNEATH REGGIE’S BEDROOM WINDOW, NIGHT.
　

MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE leaning out his window, listening to KEN, who has been talking all this time.

KEN:

(V.O.)

-that was how I see it, I know now I was wrong-

　

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind KEN as he finishes speaking. REGGIE has been listening patiently. He may not have agreed with everything KEN says, but he appreciates KEN’s efforts to make peace.

KEN:

-but now I know things gotta be different.

REGGIE:

So . . . what you gonna do about it now? How’s it gonna be different?

CUT TO:

MEDIUM POV SHOT OF KEN (REGGIE’S POV) as he unzips his hoodie sweatshirt and pulls out something metal that glints in the light, but it is not a gun. It is a piece of pipe.

KEN:

Patrick did Mike. I say we go stomp some racist ass.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE. He can’t resist one last jab.

REGGIE:

Starting with yours?

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind REGGIE of KEN. KEN shakes his head in frustration.

KEN:

Man, I just wanna-

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE: He relents.

REGGIE:

Chill. Gimme a minute. Be out in a sec.

In a series of FADES, we see:
REGGIE exiting his house, and greeting KEN.
ROSE and JOE sitting together on the sofa, holding hands, melancholic.
REGGIE and KEN walking down a street, with two or three other boys they’ve recruited.
MICHAEL’S SOUL still swirling above the ground.
PATRICK opening the cabinet, and taking out the gun.
REGGIE, KEN, MORT, and about four other boys walking together.
RORY, asleep. Headlights from a car outside flash across his closed eyes and in his sleep, RORY flinches.
REGGIE, KEN, MORT, and six boys on a street corner, searching, faces grim.
MICHAEL’S SOUL slowly seeping into the grave soil.
CUT TO:
INT. JOHN’S BEDROOM. LATE NIGHT.
MEDIUM ANGLE SHOT of JOHN asleep. Then the light from the door opening suddenly falls upon JOHN, along with the shadow of a large woman, MAMA MARIE. JOHN awakens, looks fuzzily towards the door.

JOHN:

That you, Ann Marie?

CUT TO:

MEDIUM SHOT of MAMA MARIE, backlit so we still only see her silhouette. She holds up a bottle of rum.

MAMA MARIE:

(drunkenly)

Hush. ‘Salright, hon.

CUT TO:
EXT. FAIRFAX MEMORIAL PARK, LATE NIGHT. MICHAEL ZIEGLER’S GRAVESITE.
CLOSE SHOT of the broken jar. There is no sign of MICHAEL’S SOUL. But then, the soil atop the grave shifts perceptibly. The jar fragments move. The soil heaves.
CUT TO:
INT. ZACK’S BILLIARDS, NIGHT.
FAR SHOT of ENTIRE INTERIOR. SLOW ZOOM past the grimy, smoky interior of this dive onto a single billiards table, where PATRICK and his cohorts are gathered.
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of PATRICK. He takes a drag on his cigarette, exhales, then picks up his cue stick.
CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind PATRICK, One of his cohorts sees something behind Patrick.

COHORT:

Patrick.

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of PATRICK. He halts in mid-shot, annoyed. But when he sees the expression on his buddy’s face, he pauses and turns to look. As he does so, the CAMERA shifts FOCUS to reveal KEN, MORT, and REGGIE, with their friends.
CUT TO:
CLOSE PAN SHOT of KEN and COMPANY. They are angry, determined. REGGIE especially is vengeful.
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of PATRICK. He smirks.
CUT TO:
EXTREME CLOSE SHOT of the GUN barely visible, tucked into Patrick’s pants, in the back, under his t-shirt.
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of PATRICK.

PATRICK:

So, here you are.

CUT TO:
In SLOW MOTION, we see a WIDE SHOT of KEN pulling out his pipe section, as the two groups move in on each other.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT behind PATRICK as he reaches for his gun, still in SLOW MOTION.
CUT TO:
SLOW MOTION WIDE SHOT of KEN still approaching, PATRICK still reaching for his gun, when REGGIE takes a flying leap at PATRICK and crashes into PATRICK, knocking him onto the billiards table.
CUT TO:
POV CLOSE SHOT of REGGIE (PATRICK’S POV) as he cocks a fist.

REGGIE:

You killed Mike, motherfucker! Now you gonna pay!

CUT TO:
POV CLOSE SHOT OF PATRICK (REGGIE’S POV) as REGGIE punches him in the face.

PATRICK:

Yeah? Well, I don’t sell cheap!

CUT TO:
EXTREME CLOSE SHOT of REGGIE’S FACE as PATRICK hits him back. FREEZE FRAME upon impact.
FADE TO BLACK.
FADE UP ON:
Black fabric-PAN OUT TO WIDE SHOT of JOE pulling on a black jacket.
INT. ZIEGLER RESIDENCE, MASTER BEDROOM, EARLY MORNING. JOE will be wearing black for a while now.
We also see the words slowly appear upon the screen:
November 2nd, 2013
Day of the Undead.
As these words fade out, the word "Undead" lingers a bit longer.
As he continues to dress, we can hear audibly the doorbell downstairs, and less audibly, ROSE calling out that she will get it. A moment later, ROSE’S very shrill scream rings out. JOE dashes out the bedroom.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF ROSE staring into the CAMERA in absolute shock. Behind her, we see JOE running down the stairs, but as soon as he sees what ROSE sees, he stops in his tracks, just as stunned.
CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind ROSE of MICHAEL ZIEGLER standing there at the door step. He doesn’t look gross or very decayed, but his coloring is that of a dead person. He moves slowly, a little uncoordinated. His eyes focus slowly on ROSE.

MICHAEL:

Mom?

CUT TO:

INT. ZACK’S BILLIARDS. The entire interior is a mess. The fight has been in full swing long enough for people to have been put out of commission but a few are still going at it. Reggie and Patrick have gone several rounds.
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of PATRICK glancing down often as he trades blows with REGGIE. REGGIE’s mobile phone starts ringing, slightly distracting them both.
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of the GUN, which clearly fell out earlier during the beginning of the fight, and is now at their feet, getting kicked around a little.
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of PATRICK getting one good wallop on his already bruised cheek. He has had enough. He dives for the gun.
CUT TO WIDE SHOT of REGGIE grabbing PATRICK by his shirt and heaving him off his feet and halfway across the room, PATRICK hits his head, and slumps, rather dazed. REGGIE scoops up the gun, and then pulls his phone out.

REGGIE:

(Angrily)

What?

(Beat)

(Confused)

Wait, what?

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE’S face going blank with shock.

(Stunned)

No. But how? No, no-

(Recovering somewhat)

No, listen. Imma be right there. Just- just- yeah.

CUT TO:
WIDE SHOT of INT. ZACK’S BILLIARDS. REGGIE looks around at his friends. MORT drops the guy he has been whaling on.

MORT:

What’s up?

REGGIE:

I gotta go- it’s – no time. Gotta go.

KEN:

(from the floor where he is sprawled)

The fuck?

REGGIE backs up towards the entrance, shaking his head apologetically. He realizes he still has the gun in his hand, stares at it for a moment. This is the gun that killed Mike.
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of PATRICK staring at REGGIE through his bleary pain. He is aware REGGIE has the gun.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE still looking at the gun in his hand.

REGGIE:

Shit.

REGGIE slams the gun down on the table nearest him, and runs out of the place.
CUT TO:
WIDE SHOT OF INT. ZACK’S BILLIARDS. PATRICK tries to get up on his feet, eyes on the gun. MORT crosses over to the table and picks up the gun. He sticks it into a pocket of his sports jacket.

MORT:

We’re gone, guys. Come on.

Slowly, KEN and the others start to get up, touch their wounds gingerly. PATRICK’S COHORTS gather around PATRICK to help him up, but he shoves them away, panting.
CUT TO:
INT. JOHN’S BEDROOM, MORNING.
OVERHEAD SHOT OF JOHN, half awake, reaching over for MAMA MARIE, but he is alone in bed. JOHN sits up, looking around for her.
CUT TO:
INT. MAMA MARIE’S SHOP, MORNING.
A hungover MAMA MARIE is making an offering at the altar in her shop, very upset with herself.
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of MAMA MARIE’S face as she stares up at the altar.

MAMA MARIE:

Legba, tell me, what can I do to make it right?

(Beat)

Legba?

MAMA MARIE continues to stare at the altar for a few moments longer, then looks away despairingly.
DISSOLVE CUT TO:

EXT. ZACH’S BILLIARDS, FAIRFAX DISTRICT, MORNING.

WIDE SHOT OF MORT, KEN, and company stepping outside. They prepare to make their way down the street, but then-

CUT TO:

MEDIUM SHOT of MORT, with the door to ZACK’s visible behind him. Suddenly, the door burst open and PATRICK, screaming, throws himself onto MORT.

CUT TO:

WIDE SHOT of MORT, with PATRICK on his back, lurching into a couple of CAUCASIAN pedestrians , knocking one flat. The other swings a roundhouse at MORT, catching him in the jaw.

CUT TO:

WIDE SHOT of OPPOSITE side of street, where TWO AFRICAN AMERICAN and a CAUCASIAN, all young men are walking together. They stop to stare at the confrontation. One of them speaks.

OBSERVER:

Dude, you see that?

OTHER OBSERVER:

Help ‘em out!

CUT TO:
WIDE SHOT of EXT. ZACK’S BILLIARDS. We see the brawl basically picking up again, but now with random people joining in. PAN UP and ABOVE the street, turning into an AERIAL shot of the street, showing people running from all over to join in what is now turning into a riot.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. ZIEGLER RESIDENCE, MICHAEL’S BEDROOM. EARLY AFTERNOON.
In a series of DISSOLVES, we alternate between a ROTATION SHOT of MICHAEL, MEDIUM SHOT, as he stands motionless, except for looking around at things and VARIOUS PAN SHOTS of his room- his drawings, his things, et cetera. The final shot will be of MICHAEL turning his head slowly towards his parents and RORY, who are all standing in the doorway of the room, half afraid of this apparition.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MICHAEL as he looks away from them.

MICHAEL:

It’s not here. What I came for, it’s not here.

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of ROSE. She is anguished.

ROSE:

This is your home, Michael, of course you came here.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MICHAEL. He slowly shakes his head, and a greenish, mucus-y tear oozes out his eye.

MICHAEL:

No, Mom. Michael doesn’t live here anymore.

(He touches his chest.)

Or here.

(He wipes his face.)

There’s so little time. It’s going to be a busy night. Where’s Reggie?

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of the ZIEGLERS. They have no idea what’s going on.

JOE:

We don’t know, Michael. We called- well, Gramps called him. He’s on his way.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MICHAEL. TRACK SHOT of He walks towards the ZIEGLERS, who back away slightly.

MICHAEL:

There isn’t time. I will look for him.

ROSE:

You’re not leaving? You can’t go out, looking like-

MICHAEL:

Mother. I came back for a reason. I can’t stay here. I was where the dead go.

ROSE:

(Disbelievingly)

Michael-

MICHAEL:

I have to go. The dead spoke to me. I must find Reggie. This body will not last much longer, and I need to go elsewhere.

RORY:

Where will you go, boychik?

MICHAEL:

Gramps. Aaron says you’re forgiven. He went to a better place, anyway.

RORY:

Oh . . .

MICHAEL:

Thank you all, for the life you gave me. I am glad I could tell you that.

But now I really have to go. Good bye.

TRACK SHOT of MICHAEL as he steps between the ZIEGLERS and begins descending the stairs.

CUT TO:
ANGLE WIDE SHOT of MICHAEL descending. ROSE collapses against JOE, sobbing. MICHAEL pauses, and turns towards his family one last time.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MICHAEL.

MICHAEL:

I’m going to Rosewood Street. I’d stay away from there if I were you. (He points at his bedroom door) I called for backup.

He turns to continue down the stairs.
CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of JOE as he looks at the door. There is a new drawing on it, a little clumsily executed, done in markers. It is a symbol, an obeah symbol associated with Baron Samedi.

JOE:

Backup?

CUT TO:
EXT. FAIRFAX MEMORIAL PARK, LATE AFTERNOON. FAST PAN SHOT, careening, tilting, swooping near ground level through the cemetery, and we see soil rupturing, gravestones moving, ground heaving.

CUT TO:
INT: CHANNEL 7 NEWS SKYEYE HELICOPTER above FAIRFAX DISTRICT. TRACK SHOT OF INT. HELICOPTER as it flies above the streets full of fighting people and riot control police. Inside the HELICOPTER, ESTEBAN NUNEZ is reporting live.

ESTEBAN:

We still do not really know the origin of this outbreak of violence, but we do know it could not have happened in a more racially diverse and racially divisive location. The basis of this riot appears to be racial tensions, a harsh reminder that we have yet a long way to go from the days of the infamous Rodney King trial –inspired riots in 1992. Police have been present on the scene for nearly an hour, but the situation seems to be worsening. Stay tuned for updates on traffic and a possible curfew to be imposed. Earlier in the day-

CUT TO:
INT. JOHN’S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM, LATE AFTERNOON. OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT behind JOHN sitting on his SOFA as he watches ESTEBAN on TV. The TV displays the same image we have just left, as ESTABAN continues, on the TV.

ESTEBAN:

-there were claims of the initial fighting taking place at-

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of JOHN leaning closer to scrutinize the streets shown on the TV. He glances up as the faint sound of a helicopter becomes discernable.

JOHN:

Goddamn. That’s right here. Ann-Marie-

JOHN gets to his feet, turning off the TV. As the sound cuts off, we CUT TO:
　
EXT. ZIEGLER RESIDENCE. FRONT DOOR. DUSK.
CLOSE UP of REGGIE pounding on the door. The door opens, to show JOE standing there, looking ten years older. He takes a moment to recognize REGGIE.

REGGIE:

Is he here? Mike?

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of JOE

JOE:

(Echoing his son)

No, Michael doesn’t live here anymore.

(He focuses.)

He left, Reggie. Looking for you.

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of REGGIE.

REGGIE:

Where did he go?

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of JOE

JOE:

I don’t- I don’t know- no wait, wait.

(Beat)

Rosewood Street.

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of REGGIE. He is exhausted. He has been up all night. He’s been running for hours. He starts to back away, weary.

REGGIE:

Thanks.

(Beat. He stops.)

How did he look, Mr. Z?

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of JOE. He bursts into tears, and closes the door.

　

CUT TO:
WIDE SHOT of REGGIE. He stares at the closed door, then takes a deep breath. Every joint of his body aching, begins to run again.
CUT TO:
INT. MAMA MARIE’S SHOP –NIGHT
The CAMERA now shows a tarot-reading table in front of a store window that is barred. It is after hours. This table is not a flashy table for tourists with all kind of colorful drapings. This table is for business. It is a wooden table, worn-out. We see MAMA MARIE’s hands completing a Tarot diagram. All the cards have been laid out except the last one. MAMA MARIE takes the top card off the deck of Tarots she holds in one hand and turns it over.
CUT TO:
INT. MAMA MARIE’S SHOP- NIGHT
We see the card at EXTREME CLOSE-UP. It is DEATH. The CAMERA ZOOMS OUT and UP at the same time, so that we see MAMA MARIE’S face. She looks worried and thoughtful.

MAMA MARIE:

Which it gonna be, Baron Samedi? Which it gonna be?

Suddenly MAMA MARIE jumps in alarm as she is showered with shattered glass. CAMERA DROPS to show a rock still wobbling from its landing upon the table. The cards are scattered, but one remains in clear view: DEATH.

MAMA MARIE:

Oh!

CAMERA TRACKS UP to show a big hand dropping down on MAMA MARIE’s shoulder, causing her to jump again. TRACK UP to show JOHN looking down at the rock in concern and anger both.

JOHN:

Want me to find the bastard who threw that? Although I gotta warn you, it’s pretty hairy out there.

CAMERA PANS OUT as MAMA MARIE stands to embrace JOHN.

MAMA MARIE:

No, hon. There’s not really anything we can do, it’s way out of our hands now. God help us all.

(Beat) Hold me tight, honey.

JOHN: You got it.

CAMERA ZOOMS SLOWLY onto the couple, then suddenly SWERVES over to the hole in the window, ZOOMS through the hole to:
EXT. ROSEWOOD STREET, FAIRFAX DISTRICT, LOS ANGELES- NIGHT
The CAMERA will PAN slowly down the street, moving from one side of the street of the other, ZOOMING IN on individuals and then ZOOMING OUT to continue PANNING. EVERYTHING will be in SLOW MOTION. From the window, the CAMERA will ZOOM IN on:
A MAN smashing through a window, to the outside street, wrestling with ANOTHER MAN,
then
Two CAUCASIAN MEN attacking TWO AFRCIAN AMERICAN MEN, and TWO AFRICAN AMERICAN WOMEN trying to separate them,
then
Two CAUCASIAN BOYS kicking and beating a fallen LATINO MAN,
then
A LARGE GROUP OF AFRICAN AMERICANS, CAUCASIANS AND LATINOS fighting with fists, pipes, and chains
then
AN ASIAN AMERICAN WOMAN screaming and hitting a MAN over the head with a piece of wood.
By now, we should start noticing something strange. Not all of the people are dressed normally. Some are in rags. Muddy, moldy rags. Some of the people look and move differently. Now we see an AFRICAN AMERICAN MAN swinging at a MAN’S jaw. The MAN’S jaw comes completely off, and we see the AFRICAN AMERICAN’S stunned, horrified expression as the MAN reaches for him, eyes completely blank . . .
Then the CAMERA PANS DOWN to a pair of NIKES. Still in SLOW MOTION. The Nikes belong to someone running, running past all this violence. The CAMERA PANS UP and ZOOMS OUT to reveal it is REGGIE running. We see more fighting going on, and it becomes more and more obvious that this is a RIOT happening between several distinct parties- CAUCASIANS, ASIANS, LATINOS, AFRICAN-AMERICANS, and ZOMBIES. The CAMERA TRACKS with Reggie and slowly ZOOMS IN for a CLOSE UP of his face. We see each bead of sweat as it drips and flies off his scared face. Then suddenly he collides with someone.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROSEWOOD STREET- NIGHT
FULL CLOSEUP of MICHAEL. NORMAL SPEED resumes.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROSEWOOD STREET- NIGHT
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL facing each other. Reggie is startled, but not entirely surprised. Recognition dawns upon REGGIE.

REGGIE:

Mike?

MICHAEL:

Hey.

CUT TO:
EXT. WHITMAN HIGH SCHOOL RUNNING TRACK. WIDE SHOT OF REGGIE and MIKE seated upon the bleachers alongside the track. Faint sounds of rioting, sirens, helicopters in the background. It’s a mess out there.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and MIKE as they talk.
　
　

REGGIE:

So you were in Heaven, but it’s not Heaven? I’m just not getting it.

MIKE:

All the dead are in one place, but the ones who deserved punishment got it, those who deserved reward got it. It- I don’t know, it’s all so vague now. But all the souls that ever were, they were all there. We could all speak to each other- it’s hard to remember.

REGGIE:

Trippy.

MIKE:

Yeah. Then I got called back. I’m not supposed to be dead yet.

REGGIE:

(Choking up)

So you’re gonna stay, you’re back for good?

MIKE:

No. Look at this.

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT Of MICHAEL as he holds up his hand, definitely worse for wear. He’s starting to decay.

MIKE:

I don’t belong in this body anymore. It’s like- when the soul leaves, that connection is just gone. I was not supposed to die so early, but I died. Can’t change that. But I was called back somehow, and all I know is that I was supposed to find you, and make sure that we were in the same place.

CUT TO:

CLOSE UP of REGGIE, struggling to remain composed.

REGGIE:

Okay, but why?

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of MICHAEL as he stares at REGGIE with dead eyes.

MICHAEL:

Beats the fucking shit out of me, bro.

CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT of REGGIE’S incredulous face. Then he bursts into laughter.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of the two boys laughing uproariously.
CUT TO:
INT. CHANNEL 7 NEWS STATION NEWS DESK. NIGHT
POV SHOT (CAMERA’S POV) of GWEN CHO, one of the news desk anchors. She is about to give her report. She nods slightly at her unseen prompt, then looks into the camera and smiles.

GWEN:

Good evening, Los Angeles. We bring you this update on our ongoing Special Report today on November 2nd, with the rioting going on in the area known as the Fairfax district, near Fairfax Avenue between Pico Boulevard and La Brea. The recent concerns that some kind of epidemic, a plague or contagion, may be behind the violence have proved to be untrue. We have received confirmation from multiple sources, including our onsite correspondents and our contacts at the hospitals, that hundreds of the rioters appear to be –

GWEN pauses and glances off camera, clearly uncomfortable.

GWEN:

-let me again assure our viewers that this is not a hoax, or some kind of late Halloween prank. This is the factual data as we have it from our sources. Hundreds of the rioters appear to be deceased people, recently interred at the Fairfax Memorial Park. They are somehow able to move apparently of their own volition. They have shown no inclination in participating in any act of vandalism, theft, or arson. They are simply attacking certain other rioters, and engaging in physical combat. In short, we have dead, but ambulatory, people brawling with the live rioters.

(Beat)

We will now return to our onsite correspondent, Don Erwin, who has been braving the front lines of the rioting on Oakwood street-

DISSOLVE CUT TO:

　

　

　

EXT. OAKWOOD STREET, NIGHT.

WIDE SHOT of chaos on OAKWOOD STREET. We see the street name sign. Fighting, looting, police riot control all occurring. REGGIE and MICHAEL are walking though the scene. We notice something strange here- the violence never comes near the boys. Every time something threatens them, a corpse deflects it either defensively or offensively. There is also a cluster of undead people forming a wedge through the massed people, and in the wake the two boys follow. REGGIE is nervous, because he doesn’t realize they have this protection. MICHAEL is oblivious, with one sole purpose in mind.
ZOOM IN and TRACK SHOT of the boys as they continue walking. They pass behind DON ERWIN who is doing his live on site report for Channel 7. Beyond his initial introduction of himself, his dialogue is indistinct.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of the boys pausing as a FEMALE ZOMBIE cold-cocks a man wielding a machete-type of blade. The guy falls backwards, tossing the machete up in the air. REGGIE ducks, but the FEMALE ZOMBIE catches it, and reversing the blade, offers it to MICHAEL, who slowly reaches out for it.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MICHAEL turning his eyes upon the ZOMBIE.

MICHAEL:

Thanks.

　

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of ZOMBIE, who nods her acknowledgement.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL. REGGIE is staring at MICHAEL in puzzled wonder. MICHAEL continues walking, looking straight ahead. REGGIE follows. The violence continues to part around them.

MICHAEL:

Come on.

REGGIE:

None of this freaks you out?

MICHAEL:

None of what?

REGGIE:

That woman was dead!

MICHAEL:

So am I, Reg.

　

CUT TO:
INT: MAMA MARIE’S SHOP. NIGHT
MEDIUM SHOT of MAMA MARIE taping something over the hole in her window. The door to her shop opens. QUICK PAN right to the door, where JOHN is entering, quite frazzled, with a rip in his windbreaker

JOHN:

It’s hairier than my Uncle Chet’s ass out there.

But at least the shop’s boarded up- should be safe. I already called Joe to let him know it’s been taken care of. . .we should board this up , too.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MAMA MARIE as she stands, hand on hip.

MAMA MARIE:

I ain’t worried about this place. It’s just a place. It’s the city I’m worried about. Don’t you feel it? The power just gathering- like a great big storm. A storm can destroy things, but it can also cleanse. I wish I knew which way it was gonna go. . . the loas aren’t talking now.

JOHN appears in the shot, as he puts one arm around MAMA MARIE.

JOHN:

I may not know much about your beliefs, Ann Marie, but you say loas are like our souls, right? Spirits? Maybe . . . they aren’t talking no because they’re busy being drivers of all those dead bodies out there.

MAMA MARIE:

Riders.

JOHN:

What?

MAMA MARIE:

Riders. Still ain’t right. The living offer their bodies to the loas, to give the loa a warm place to be for a while, in exchange for wisdom. It don’t make no sense for a loa to go back to its old, empty, cold body. It’s all so out of balance, and when the scales come even again, this city’s gonna be changed.

JOHN:

And you’re saying . . . you don’t know how it will change, good or bad? Which it gonna be, yeah?

MAMA MARIE:

That’s right.

JOHN:

Good or bad, Ann Marie, I’ll be right here with you.

MAMA MARIE:

Well, aren’t you the sweet one?

MAMA MARIE and JOHN kiss. DISSOLVE CUT TO:

EXT. SOME RANDOM STREET INTERSECTING OAKWOOD STREET - NIGHT.
TRACK SHOT, moving backwards as the CAMERA follows PATRICK walking quickly. He’s in pretty bad shape. He’s muttering to himself, racial epithets and dire threats. He turns the corner and-
CUT TO:
EXT. OAKWOOD STREET – NIGHT
WIDE SHOT
-and collides with two people. Two boys. REGGIE and MICHAEL.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of PATRICK as he reacts angrily.

PATRICK:

Watch where the fuck-

PATRICK recognizes REGGIE. Then he recognizes MICHAEL. He staggers back a step.

PATRICK:

No!

CUT TO:
OVER THE SHOULDER MEDIUM SHOT behind PATRICK of the two boys. REGGIE is seething with fury. MICHAEL is coldly neutral.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of PATRICK as he pulls out the gun, which he has gained possession of again. He points it with shaking hands at MICHAEL.

PATRICK:

I killed you already! I’ll kill you again, you fucking Jew ghost!

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL.

MICHAEL:

Not gonna happen. You can only kill someone once. You had your chance.

REGGIE:

You’re not gonna get away with it. Best eyewitness possible here.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of PATRICK. He aims at REGGIE.

PATRICK:

I’ll kill you both- I’m not afraid of you either! I killed your friends too already- your basketball pillow biter buddies!

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL

REGGIE:

What? You killed Ken? Mort?!?

MICHAEL puts a hand on REGGIE’S shoulder. REGGIE can’t help but shiver under the touch.

MICHAEL:

He didn’t, Reg.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of PATRICK. He is astonished, but tries to continue his bluff.

PATRICK:

Oh yes I did, I put a bullet in all their faces! I-

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL. MICHAEL starts to exhibit a tangible gathering of energy around his body. Not glowing, not electricity, but he just extrudes power. A top hat that is not a top hat is atop his head at a jaunty angle. When he speaks it is in the voice of the Baron Samedi.

MICHAEL/BARON:

Hush, little man. You did not. The dead all speak to each other, and the ones you speak of are still deaf and silent in my world, because they are not there yet. But I don’t need to tell you. See for yourself!

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of MICHAEL and PATRICK. Moving faster than even a live human, MICHAEL whips the machete up, and drives it to the hilt into PATRICK’S heart.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of PATRICK as he stares down at the knife in his chest- mirroring MICHAEL’S death several days earlier.

PATRICK:

Fuck.

TRACK SHOT of PATRICK as PATRICK falls straight down onto his face, dead. BARON’S laugh is heard, and FAST PAN UP to REGGIE and MICHAEL. MICHAEL is his normal undead self again, with no trace of the BARON’S presence.

REGGIE:

You killed him. He most def got his.

MICHAEL:

The dead only come back for two things, Reggie. Well, they’re only given power and permission for two things. Protection and persecution. I’ve persecuted my killer. I called for back-up for the protection part.

REGGIE:

You lost me, man.

MICHAEL:

The mess in the city, the mess in the cemetery- that’s on me. I called on a few dead people in the area for help. But the dead like getting out when they can, so more than a few showed up, apparently.

REGGIE:

All those dead people walking around- you called them here? You can do that?

MICHAEL:

If I am allowed, seems so.

REGGIE:

Oooo-kay. What are we going to do now?

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MICHAEL. He smiles sadly.

MICHAEL:

Nothing. You’re gonna do plenty though.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE. He pretends not to understand.

REGGIE:

What’s that supposed to mean?

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MICHAEL.

MICHAEL:

Good luck, brother. In everything you do. We kicked ass in the friendship department, Reg. Don’t ever let anyone make you forget that.

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE.

REGGIE:

No, no wait- wait! Hold on-

CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MICHAEL.

MICHAEL:

Gonna miss you, man.

MICHAEL goes still, and then begins to collapse out of frame.

CUT TO:
WIDE SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL. MICHAEL continues to fall.
In a SERIES of CUTS we see:
ZOMBIES falling lifeless in various locations of FAIRFAX district, in the midst of movement. Whether they’re walking, hitting, taking punches. They all just fall down.
CUT TO:
WIDE SHOT of REGGIE and MICHAEL. MICHAEL hits the ground. REGGIE drops to his knees next to his fallen friend.
CUT TO:
OVERHEAD SHOT of REGGIE as he cradles the corpse of MICHAEL in his arms. He lets out a cry of unfathomable loss, He has had to lose his best friend twice.
FADE to BLACK.
FADE UP ON:
EXT. OAKWOOD STREET, DAWN.
TRACK SHOT of MAMA MARIE walking briskly down the street, searching. She clearly has a purpose now. The street is a mess, as is the rest of the Fairfax District. Smoke, burning debris, glass, corpses and patrolling police and coroners/ambulances loading the dead.
These words fade into view slowly:
Oakwood Street
November 3rd, 2013
Then they fade out slowly.

MAMA MARIE:

(To herself)

Where are you?

Suddenly she stops.

CUT TO:
WIDE SHOT of REGGIE asleep, still holding MICHAEL in his arms. SLOW ZOOM onto REGGIE and MICHAEL.
CUT TO:
WIDE SHOT of MAMA MARIE across the street from the boys. She hurries towards the boys.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF MAMA MARIE kneeling next to the boys. She glances over at an approaching ambulance.

MAMA MARIE:

Thank the gods. There isn’t much time, but I don’t need much time to finish this task, if you lend me your grace, Baron.

MAMA MARIE opens up her bag.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MAMA MARIE’S hands as they remove objects from the bag, the same objects from the botched ritual on Halloween night. Lastly, she takes out a govi jar.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of MAMA MARIE’s face as she looks upwards.

MAMA MARIE:

And please keep your damn guedes away this time.

CUT TO:
OVER-THE-SHOULDER SHOT behind MAMA MARIE, as she prepares the ritual of the two boys. Even knowing that MICHAEL is dead, the two look simply as if they are asleep, heads together. SLOW ZOOM onto REGGIE’S closed eyes.
FADE TO BLACK.
FADE UP on a TRACK SHOT of a young, professionally dressed woman holding a notepad walking briskly across the lobby entrance of-
INT. WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D.C. – DAYTIME
As the young woman, CHLOE, pauses at the security check, these words fade slowly into view.
The White House
March 5th, 2060
The 2nd Washington Administration
Then they fade out.
CONTINUING TRACK SHOT of CHLOE as she clears security, meets a liaison, and walks with the liaison chatting, past the Oval Office, to the library. The security guard outside checks CHLOE’S credentials, then speaks into his mouthpiece. After a moment, he nods and opens the door.
CUT TO:
CLOSE UP of REGGIE WASHINGTON, now a 62 year old man, and the President of the U.S. doing some work on the 2060 equivalent of an electronic tablet, perhaps with 3-D holographic projections. As the door opens, he looks up and smiles. He turns off the tablet and stands up.
CUT TO:
WIDE SIDE SHOT of CHLOE approaching REGGIE. They shake hands warmly.

CHLOE:

Mr. President.

REGGIE:

Good to see you again, Chloe.

CHLOE:

You remembered my name?

REGGIE:

I’m not that old yet.

The two laugh, and seat themselves. CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of CHLOE. She is scanning her notes, trying to find a specific notation.

CHLOE:

Thank you so much for taking the time to see me again, Mr. President.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF REGGIE. He smiles graciously.

REGGIE:

It’s the least I could have done, I apologize again for having to cut the interview short during your last visit here.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of CHLOE. She beams.

CHLOE:

All in a day’s work for you, isn’t it- besides that was an important occasion- Israel and Palestine finally signing a peace accord that has held! But I promise not to take up too much time. I just want to clarify a couple items, Mr. President.

　
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT OF REGGIE. He nods, paying close attention
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of CHLOE. She beams.

CHLOE:

Great! So we covered your political career since you started college at UCLA on a basketball scholarship, and your upbringing in Los Angeles, and the fact you experience firsthand the infamous Day of the Undead in 2013-

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE. He nods, a faint painful memory including his face for a moment.

REGGIE:

Yes. We also talked about my marriage and lovely children.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of CHLOE. She nods in confirmation.

CHLOE:

Right, so what I wanted to ask you, was about Fairfax. You have, several times during your administration so far, and to the frustration of your Secret Service agents, visited a certain cemetery in your hometown several times, a family plot, but the name on these stones is "Ziegler", not Washington.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE. He regards CHLOE solemnly for a few moments.

REGGIE:

Yes, my family.

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of CHLOE. She is confused.

CHLOE:

Family? You have Jewish heritage as well?

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE: He catches himself, and smiles as he corrects himself

REGGIE:

No, I meant family friends. Friends of my family. Their son- he was a close friend of mine.

He stares at CHLOE.
CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of CHLOE. She is uncomfortable and senses she should change the subject.

CHLOE:

Oh okay then! (Brightly, indicating the wall behind REGGIE) And your artwork! You come across as a man of many talents, Mr. President. An athlete, a scholar, a political leader, and an artist. You did all these!

CUT TO:
MEDIUM SHOT of REGGIE. He doesn’t look up at the pictures, but he smiles, a little sadly.

REGGIE:

You could say that, yes.

CUT TO:
WIDE SHOT of the two seated. CHLOE continues talking, but her voice is indistinct as music comes up. CAMERA PANS and ZOOMS into REGGIE’S eyes, which change slightly- now they’re MICHAEL’S eyes, then REGGIE’s again.

MAMA MARIE: (V.O.)

This city needs a guide. And it’s supposed to be those two boys.

CAMERA PANS UP and SLOWLY RIGHT over the wall, from framed drawing to framed drawing- of all kinds of subjects, in the distinct style of MICHAEL ZIEGLER, but we see each one is signed "Reggie W" in a clear flourish. CAMERA continues to PAN, to the last drawing, which is the tiger drawing, the last one MICHAEL drew before his death. We see the signature for this one says "Mike Z", in the same exact handwriting as all the other drawings.
SFX: REGGIE and MICHAEL laughing.

MICHAEL: (V.O.)

Sweet.

FADE TO BLACK.
END CREDITS.