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WILDORADO

© 1996 by Jack Harris-Bonham

Registered WGAw


Comments on this script? E-Mail Jack Harris-Bonham


FADE IN:

EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY - EARLY MORNING

MAN, late forties, good looking, freshly shaven face, long
hair blowing in the wind, dressed in a suit, is walking
"with the traffic" along the highway.

Highway is empty.

He puts his hand to his forehead touching the fresh gash
above his left eye.  He winces from the tenderness of the
spot.

The Man turns and looks down the highway.

A large truck in the distance is coming down the highway in
his direction.

The Man is walking faster, on the edge of the road this
time.

SEMI HORN AS IT BLASTS.

The semi passes him, his hair flying wildly about, his suit
flapping in the wind.

The Man turns his head and looks behind him again.

A car is approaching.

The Man turns back around, stays on the edge of the highway
and keeps walking.  Is that a smile on his face, or a
grimace?

The car passes swinging wide into the other lane.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. JEEP CHEROKEE - EARLY MORNING

The white Jeep cuts easily through the morning air.

The road is empty except for the Jeep.

The man inside rolls down his window.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. JEEP CHEROKEE - EARLY MORNING

CLOSE ON GREGORY ALLEN, late forties, clean-shaven, dressed
in overalls and a t-shirt and work boots.  Greg's hair falls
down his back in a long braid.




With the window down, he's enjoying the morning air.

He opens the console, grabs a tape, opens the box.

The tape falls into the console behind the other tapes.

Greg reaches in, trying to pull the tape out.  Useless.

He pulls the tapes out and throws them on the passenger's
seat.

He stops, staring into the console.

CLOSE-UP of Greg as his breathing becomes rapid.

He starts taking long slow, deep breaths, trying to regain
some composure.

He pulls a toy gun from the bottom of the console.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. GREG'S BACK YARD, WILDORADO, TEXAS  (FLASHBACK)  - DAY

BOBBY, eight years old is being chased around the yard by
JORDAN, four years old.

Jordan doesn't have a gun, so he uses his finger and shoots
his older brother.

                           JORDAN
               Bang!  Bang!

Bobby lets the gun, that Greg now holds, slip from his hand
as he falls in the grass.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. JEEP CHEROKEE  (BACK TO PRESENT)  - EARLY MORNING

Greg retrieves the tape from the bottom of the console.

He slams it into the cassette player.

ROLLING THUNDER and DRUMS in the bg.

Then, NATIVE AMERICAN FLUTE chimes in.

Voice comes up the bg.









                      VOICE (ON TAPE)
                         (wise old Native
               American voice)
               Spirit Guides are around you all
          the time.  Maybe you think you gotta go
          up on the mountain, ya know, look under
          rocks, gaze up into trees to find your
          Spirit Guides.  It's not true, never
          was, never will be.

Greg stares at the toy gun that is sitting on the
passenger's seat.

                      VOICE (ON TAPE)
               Spirit Guides are all around you.
          All the time.  Most people don't see
          them.  Why?

Greg takes the map off the dashboard and covers the toy gun.

A red highlighter has marked Greg's route on the map.

                      VOICE (ON TAPE)
               It's simple, they look like
          everything else, 'cept they're not.  You
          wanna Spirit Guide?  Keep your eyes
          open.

Greg reaches under the map and flings the toy gun out the
passenger's window.

Greg flinches.

                            GREG
               Oh Jees!

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY - EARLY MORNING

The toy gun sails by the Man's head barely missing him.

MAN'S POV as the Jeep that has just passed him shows brake
lights, then accelerates out of there.

The Man stops walking and looks down.

The toy gun lies on the ground.

The Man kicks at it with his boot.

CLOSE ON the Man's right hand as it reaches up and pulls his
jacket away from his body exposing a Beretta Model 92F
slung into a shoulder holster.

The Man looks surprised!



                                                     CUT TO:

INT. JEEP CHEROKEE - EARLY MORNING

                      VOICE (ON TAPE)
               It's important to remember that not
          all Spirit Guides know they're Spirit
          Guides.

Greg looks into the rear view mirror.

INSERT:  Rear view mirror and its view of the Man
diminishing in the bg.

                      VOICE (ON TAPE)
               Some Spirits can guide us
          regardless of their conscious
          participation in our lives.  When you
          meet your Spirit Guide the journey
          begins.

Greg reaches up and punches the tape out of the tape player,
then starts beating the steering wheel and SCREAMING.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. GREG'S CAR  (FLASHBACK)  - NIGHT

ESTABLISHING SHOTS as we see the two boys in the car with
Greg.

It's RAINING HARD.

Greg is wiping the windshield with his hand, then rubbing
his hand on his ragged face.

Bobby, strapped into the seat on the passenger's side, looks
at his father.

                           BOBBY
               You okay, daddy?

Greg looks over at the boy and smiles a silly smile.

                            GREG
               Yeah, heck, I'm peachy.  How about
          you?

                           BOBBY
               I wanna go home, daddy.

Jordan, strapped into one of those child carriers in the
back, speaks up.

                           JORDAN
                         (chanting)
               Home, home, home, home, home--

                                                     CUT TO:


EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY  (BACK TO PRESENT)  - EARLY MORNING

The Man walks on down the highway.

A red pickup truck passes on the other side of the road
headed toward Texas.

The old geezer inside BLOWS THE HORN and waves.

The Man starts to wave back, but doesn't.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. JEEP CHEROKEE - EARLY MORNING

Greg, extremely agitated, is chanting over and over again in
a low voice.

                            GREG
                         (whispering)
               Everyday, in every way, I'm getting
          better and better.  Everyday, in every
          way, I'm getting better and better.
          Everyday, in every way, I'm getting
          better and better--

CLOSE ON Greg's eyes as we--

                                                DISSOLVE TO:

INT./EXT. WILDORADO  (FLASHBACKS)  - MONTAGE


INT. LIMOUSINE - DAY

Greg, dressed in a suit sits next to his wife, MEGAN, mid-
thirties, petite woman with perfect blond hair cut short.
She's dressed in black and has on a floppy black hat.

They look the successful couple, then we notice, she's been
crying.

Greg looks over at his wife.  She remains staring ahead.

He reaches over and puts his hand on hers.

She looks down at his hand on hers, then gently removes her
hand to her lap.

                            GREG
               The flowers were nice.

                           MEGAN
               Hot house roses!



                            GREG
               Pretty though.

                           MEGAN
               The stunk of fertilizer and
          insecticides.

                            GREG
               I didn't notice.

                           MEGAN
               You didn't get close enough to
          notice.

                            GREG
               I was right there.

                           MEGAN
               You didn't say good-bye.

                            GREG
               It wasn't them.

                           MEGAN
                         (rage)
               It's all we have left of them.

                            GREG
               There's nothing left, but ... us.

                           MEGAN
               Are you trying to depress me?

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. HIGH SCHOOL CLASS ROOM - DAY

Greg is standing in front of a class room of High School
Seniors.

On the black board, along side a map of the United States,
are the words, "The Timetables of History".

                            GREG
               You can't think of History as
          simply a bunch of dates to be memorized
          and thrown back at me on the day of the
          test.  I mean, you can think of it that
          way, but what good will it do?  Take the
          date 1876 for instance.  One hundred
          years after the signing of Jefferson's
          Declaration of Independence.  Just a
          date, huh, till we think of the events
          that happened in that same year, 1876.
          Wild Bill Hickok shot in the back while
          playing poker in Deadwood Kansas,
          holding the famous aces and eights,
          later known as the deadman's hand.




He looks at the class.

Half of them seem asleep, the other half like he's speaking
Greek.

Greg wanders over to the windows that look out on the flat
Texas prairie.

An older man in a suit silently comes into the classroom
closing the door behind him.

The students who see him sit up straight.  The kids that are
asleep are given a shake.  They, in turn, seeing the older
man, come to attention in their seats.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               Colorado becomes the 38th state to
          join the Union.  Mark Twain's Tom Sawyer
          is printed for the first time.  Kellogg
          makes his first cereal.  The first
          National League baseball game is played.
          Heinze puts ketchup in a bottle, and
          General George Armstrong Custer is
          defeated by Sitting Bull and other
          Chiefs at the Little Big Horn.  All this
          in 1876.

CLOSE ON Greg with the classroom in the bg as his mind
begins to wander.

INDIAN YELLS, GUNS FIRING, ARROWS WHIZZING THROUGH THE AIR
in the bg as Greg says to himself.

                            GREG
                         (almost a whisper)
               Just imagine the same ketchup we
          use in the cafeteria coming out of
          bottles for the first time as the blood
          is oozing from Custer and his men as
          they go down in defeat.
                         (louder)
               History is, then, the accumulation
          of events that occur in an order that at
          the time seems random, and maybe even
          cruel, but once occurring have a sort of
          fatalistic and oddly comforting charmed
          form to them.  And we are apart of that
          charmed form.

Greg simply stands there looking out the window as the class
sneaks looks between the older man and Greg.

                                                     CUT TO:






EXT. GREG'S HOUSE, WILDORADO - DAY

Megan is out front transplanting rose bushes.  She dressed
in a coat, scarf, gloves and wears a baseball hat.  You can
see her breath.

Greg drives up in the driveway and gets out of his Jeep.

Megan looks at her watch.

                           MEGAN
               What are you doing home?  It's only
          third period.

                            GREG
               I've been given a leave of absence.

He walks toward the house.

                           MEGAN
               With pay?

Greg turns half way to the house.

                            GREG
               Yes, a sabbatical of sorts.  Maybe
          I'll take a trip--

He turns around and heads for the door.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
                         (to himself)
               Or simply kill myself.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. JEEP CHEROKEE  (BACK TO PRESENT)  - EARLY MORNING

Greg is still mumbling along in that distracted chant,
except now tears are flowing down his cheeks.

                            GREG
               Everyday, in every way, I'm getting
          better and better.  Everyday, in every
          way, I'm getting better and better.
          Everyday, in every way, I'm getting
          better and better.

He sees a side road up ahead, SLAMS ON HIS BRAKES and takes
the road.

                                                     CUT TO:







EXT. DESERT SIDE ROAD - EARLY MORNING

The Jeep SKIDS making the turn too quickly, spraying gravel
and dust.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. JEEP CHEROKEE - EARLY MORNING

Greg is laughing hysterically now.  Tears are still flowing
down his cheeks, but the laughter is nearly maniacal.

He SLAMS ON THE BRAKES and the Jeep slides to a stop.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT SIDE ROAD - EARLY MORNING

Greg is out of the Jeep with the driver's door open.

He's unlocking the hatch in the back.

He pulls a bag from the stuff in the back and digs down deep
in the canvas bag.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY - EARLY MORNING

The Man is walking down the highway.

He's passed by a line of cars.

He stops and licks his lips.

He looks down.

There on the road are skid marks that lead off down a side
road.

He stares down the side road in the shimmering heat.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT SIDE ROAD - MORNING

The Man is walking down the dirt road.

Up ahead of him about 30 yards is the Jeep Cherokee, it's
ENGINE RUNNING.

                                                     CUT TO:







EXT. JEEP CHEROKEE - MORNING

MAN'S POV as he walks up on the Jeep.

A section of garden hose has been duct taped to the exhaust
pipe, leading to the vent window in the Jeep.

A hole has been punched in the vent window.  Duct tape
covers the portion of the hole that isn't occupied with
hose.

The Man walks up beside the driver's window.

There sits Greg his head rocked back on the headrest, a
peaceful expression on his face.

The Man reaches up and taps on the window.

A startled Greg jumps in the seat, then rolls down his
window a little bit.

Exhaust fumes plume from the open window along with the
SOUND OF NATIVE AMERICAN DRUMMING AND FLUTE.

The Man steps back away from the noxious fumes.

                            GREG
                         (coughing)
               Yes?

The Man turns his face toward the Jeep.

These men could be brothers.

                            MAN
               How ya doin', man?

                            GREG
               I'm fine.  Thanks.

                            MAN
               Hey, ah, I think I'm in trouble.

                            GREG
               I've got my own problems.

Greg rolls his window back up and puts his head on the head
rest.

The Man taps on the window again.

Greg rolls the window down and gives the Man an exasperated
look.





                            MAN
               That's very 90's of you, man, ya
          know, to be so into your problem that
          you can't see my problem.

                            GREG
               What!?

                            MAN
               I mean, who knows, maybe your
          problem wouldn't be so bad if it was my
          problem and, visa versa.

CLOSE ON Greg as a light comes on in his head.

The door of the Cherokee pops open.

Greg steps out of the Jeep, as if surrounded by fog.

The Man smiles.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               That's cool, man.  That should be
          in a rock video.  Ya know, guy pulls up,
          gets out of his car like he's stepping
          from a cloud.

Greg COUGHING.

                            GREG
               What you said just now, about my
          problem not being so bad if it was your
          problem.  Do you know any Alfred
          Hitchcock?

                            MAN
               The fat guy who used to be on t.v..
          Sure, I've seen the reruns.

                            GREG
               STRANGERS ON A TRAIN.

The Man shrugs.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               The movie, STRANGERS ON A TRAIN,
          one of Hitchcock's early works.  That's
          what this is like.

                            MAN
               Cool.

Greg extends his hand to the Man.

                            GREG
               Greg's my name.





The Man looks at Greg's hand, but doesn't take it.

Greg finally pulls his hand back.

The Man looks at Greg.

                            MAN
               I thinks that's my name, too.

                            GREG
               I'm sure there's more than two of
          us running around.

                            MAN
               Greg!

                            GREG
               Yes?

                            MAN
               Your first time out this way?

                            GREG
               My wife thinks I'm crazy.

                            MAN
               But what does she know, huh?

Greg laughs.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               Where you headed?

Greg looks back at the tape job on the Jeep.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               I mean before this unexpected turn
          of events.

                            GREG
               Camping trip.

                            MAN
               You want me to drive?  I know some
          great spots.

Greg looks at the ground.

                            GREG
               Ah, no thanks, I think I've just
          about circled the wagons.

The Man pulls the Beretta out and pushes it into Greg's
ribs.





                       GREG (CONT'D)
               You want my money?

The Man pulls an envelope from his inside pocket.

He hands it to Greg.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               What's this?

                            MAN
               In your entire life, you've never
          seen this much money.

INSERT:  An envelope stuffed with hundred dollar bills.

                            GREG
               Where'd you get this?

The Man takes a good look at Greg.

                            MAN
               Honestly?  I don't know.  I woke up
          a couple hours ago and I can't remember
          shit.  But, I got this horrible feeling
          someone wants me dead.

Greg hands the money back to the Man and backs away.

                            GREG
               You're going to kill me, aren't
          you?

                            MAN
               Well ... yeah ... I am.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               What's the matter?

                            GREG
               I don't wanna die.

                            MAN
               Considering what I know of you,
          Greg, this comes as quite a surprise.

                            GREG
               I'll give you a ride, I'll help you
          get away, maybe we can trade places like
          you suggested.

The Man walks toward Greg with the Beretta in his hand.

                            MAN
               Did I suggest that?  Damn, I'm
          smart.





Greg grabs the barrel of the gun.

They struggle.  The Man's hand is on the trigger, but he
doesn't shoot.

Finally the Man jerks the gun from Greg's grasp and
backhands him with it.

Blood runs from a cut above Greg's left eye, as he slumps to
his knees on the desert road.

On the verge of passing out, Greg looks up at the Man.

                            GREG
                         (strained)
               Please ... no!

The Man gently pushes Greg's shoulder and Greg falls back in
a slump.

LATER.

The Jeep Cherokee sits on the side of a dirt road with both
doors open in the heat.

In the bg we can HEAR the GRUNTS of someone hard at work.

CAMERA FOLLOWS a path down from the road to an arroyo.  From
the top of the arroyo we can see what must be Greg in his
overalls busy with something.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. ARROYO - DAY

The Man, dressed now in Greg's overalls, pulls Greg to a
sitting position and sticks Greg's arm through the arm hole
of the jacket.

He talks to Greg as he puts the jacket on him.

                            MAN
               Carbon monoxide don't work, ya see,
          cause I need time.  We look a little
          alike, I'll give ya that, but to buy
          enough time, I got to shoot ya in the
          face.  I'm sorry, that's the way it is.

The Man looks over in the arroyo.

There lying beside the other dress clothes is the shoulder
holster and the Beretta.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               Shit!




The Man pulls the coat off Greg.

He grabs the shoulder holster and straps it on Greg.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               If I'm gonna shoot myself I got to
          be wearing the gun, right?

He slips the jacket back on Greg, then grabs the pants.

The Man pulls a bandanna from the back pocket of the
overalls.

He wipes the sweat from his face.

The Man pulls the bandanna away from his face in disgust.

The bandanna is caked in snot and boogers.

He throws the bandanna away and starts wiping his face with
his hands.

CLOSE ON Greg's eye lids as they flutter, or is there a
breeze blowing through the arroyo?

The Man grabs the suit pants and starts trying to pull them
over the shoes on Greg's feet.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               It's gonna feel good when you
          commit suicide.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT - DAY

We're back up with the Jeep Cherokee.

SINGLE PISTOL SHOT and the SOUND OF SOMEONE SCRAMBLING up
the path.

Greg tops the arroyo's edge, pulling up the pants and trying
to run at the same time.

He's got the Beretta in his hand.

He makes it to the Jeep and he's PANTING WILDLY.

He takes one look at the gun, one look back toward the
arroyo and he YELLS at the TOP OF HIS LUNGS and FIRES the
BERETTA TWICE into the air.

He jumps in the Jeep, STARTS IT UP, and SCRATCHES OUT, rocks
and sand spinning from the tires as he heads out toward the
highway.



                                                     CUT TO:

INT. JEEP CHEROKEE - DAY

Greg is coughing as the exhaust pours into the Jeep through
the garden hose that remains taped into the broken vent
window.

Greg rips off the duct tape and pushes the hose out the
window.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. MAIN HIGHWAY - DAY

The Jeep Cherokee turning wildly onto the main road,
SKIDDING a little, then barreling on down the highway, the
garden hose trailing from the tail pipe.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. JEEP CHEROKEE - DAY

Greg is touching the gash over his left eye.  He winces in
pain.

He reaches up and takes the map off the dash.

INSERT:  There in red highlighter the way is marked.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. PARKING LOT, VISION QUEST SIGHT - DAY

ESTABLISHING SHOTS of the parking area that is mostly pine
boughs on dirt.  Eight to ten other vehicles of various
descriptions are parked there.

Above the parking facilities and at the base of a mountain
is the cabin.

Cabin is a misnomer for a fairly palatial log structure that
looks more like a hotel.

CAMERA MOVES BACK to reveal the Jeep Cherokee raising a dust
cloud and coming up the long dirt road that extends from the
highway.

Jeep pulls up and parks.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. JEEP CHEROKEE - DAY

Greg sits there for a moment without moving.  The only SOUND
is the AIR CONDITIONING in the Jeep.



Greg's hand reaches up to the steering column and turns off
the ignition.

Greg pulls the Beretta Model 92F from the shoulder holster
and lays it on his lap.

CAMERA FOLLOWS a trickle of sweat that rolls down his temple
and past the corner of his twitching mouth.

CAMERA MOVES BACK to reveal Greg hefting the gun in his hand
and smiling.

He reads the name of the gun out loud.

                            GREG
               Beretta.  007, license to seriously
          fuck-you-up!

He starts to HUM what he thinks might be the theme of one of
the James Bond movies.  He STOPS HUMMING.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               Shirley Bassey, where are you when
          we need you?

He pops the clip out of the Beretta.

Checking the pockets of the coat he finds additional shells
which he slides into the clip.

He slams the clip back in.

There's a TAPPING ON THE WINDOW.

Greg bobbles the Beretta as he simultaneously juggles with
it and tries to hide it.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. PARKING LOT - DAY

JONATHAN WINKS-A-LOT, 60's, Native America, dressed in
Chinos, work shirt and straw cowboy hat stands right outside
Greg's window.  Jonathan's looking off in the distance.

The Jeep's window is rolled down.

Greg looks at Jonathan who is still busy looking off in the
distance as he says--

                          JONATHAN
               You're gonna miss the Pipe Ceremony
          if ya don't hurry up.

                            GREG
               Pipe Ceremony?




Looking at Greg, Jonathan steps back away from the Jeep like
he's seen a ghost.

Greg gets out of his Jeep and opens the back door.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               Are you an Indian?

                          JONATHAN
               You know who I am.

                            GREG
               Refresh my memory.

                          JONATHAN
               I'm Jonathan Winks-a-lot, the only
          one up here that don't hafta play at
          being Indian.

                            GREG
               Will you be doing the Pipe
          Ceremony?

                          JONATHAN
               No, Harvey's Main Wind, Miss
          Suzanne does that, but you know that,
          too.

Greg turns to Jonathan as Jonathan walks off toward the
mountain.

                            GREG
               What's a Wind?

Jonathan turns on the path.

                          JONATHAN
               I like the act, it's pretty
          faultless, and the Jeep's a good touch,
          but don't ya think ya shoulda changed
          clothes?

Greg looks down at the suit and brushes some of the dust
off.

                            GREG
               I had car trouble.

Jonathan turns and looks at the Jeep with the twenty feet of
garden hose trailing behind it.

                          JONATHAN
                         (more to himself)
               White Man's crazy, always has been,
          always will be.

                                                     CUT TO:





EXT. CABIN PORCH - DAY

Greg aggressively takes the steps that lead to the porch.

Once on the porch, he touches the bulge in his jacket where
the Beretta lies sleeping.

He looks around as if there might be someone up here that
needs killing.

                            GREG
               Name's Bond, James Bond.

He reaches down and opens the door.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MAIN CABIN - DAY

Greg comes in and shuts the door quietly behind him.

In the bg, SOME CEREMONIAL MUMBLING.

Greg walks through the vestibule to the main room and peeks
in.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MAIN ROOM, CABIN - DAY

ESTABLISHING SHOT of the Pipe Ceremony.  The main room is a
long rectangle.  About 8-10 men and women are sitting on the
floor in front of the large fireplace at the far end.

SUZANNE, late thirties(?), knock-out figure on the verge of
going over-the-hill, stands with a red clay and wooden pipe
extended out in front of her.

Suzanne sees Greg, smiles, and nods in his direction.

Greg smiles back, then checks to see if there's someone
behind him.

Suzanne extends the pipe over her head as she speaks to
those in the sacred circle.

                          SUZANNE
               There are two sacred laws.
          Everything is born of woman and...

CLOSE ON GREG as this line sinks in deep.

                   SUZANNE(O.S.) (CONT'D)
               Do nothing to harm the children.




                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. CEMETERY  (FLASHBACK)  - DAY

The Texas prairie rolls out like a giant tawny carpet.

Two black holes have been punched in the flatness and two
small coffins are poised over these holes.

A Woman, mid-thirties, dressed in black, surrounded by
family is WEEPING openly.

Standing off from her, almost by himself, is Greg Allen.

Greg is not crying.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT.  MAIN ROOM, CABIN  (BACK TO PRESENT)  - DAY

The people are milling about, CHATTING, greeting one
another.

Suzanne moves through the crowd, making her way to Greg.

Greg seems a bit in the ozone.

Suzanne extends her hand to Greg.

                          SUZANNE
               Hi, I'm Suzanne.

He takes her hand and she whisks him off to a side room,
behind a blanketed doorway.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. SMALL ROOM - DAY

Light filters in through several windows, but the room seems
filled with smoke.

                          SUZANNE
                         (urgent)
               What are you doing here!?

                            GREG
               Huh!?

                          SUZANNE
               I don't know what game you're
          running, but it's dangerous, dangerous
          for all of us!

Greg's grasping for some meaning here.





                            GREG
               I don't know ... I don't know what
          you're talking about!

Suzanne kisses him, her tongue running in and out of his
mouth.

She breaks as violently from the kiss as she began.

Greg stands there his mouth still raw and open.

                          SUZANNE
               Where's the money?

                            GREG
               Money?

Suzanne starts going through Greg's pockets.

                          SUZANNE
               Don't tell me you lost the money.

Greg shrugs.

                            GREG
               I think I killed a man.

She pats him on the shoulder as she leads him out of the
small room.

                          SUZANNE
                         (sarcasm)
               That's good.  That's real good.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. THE DESERT  (HELICOPTER SHOT)  - SUNDOWN

Off in the west there is a spectacular show of colors,
clouds and lightning.

RUMBLING THUNDER in the bg.

We're flying low over the desert.  To our left is the main
highway and behind us the cabin and mountain can be seen.

Quickly now, speed-o-light, we're hovering over the arroyo
where the Man dressed in Greg's overalls lies spread eagle
on his stomach.

To the North more thunderheads and LOUD THUNDER roiling in.

                                                     CUT TO:






EXT. ARROYO - SUNSET

The Man is lying on his stomach.

He MOANS and rolls over.

The small entry wound in his left cheek is surrounded by the
blue/black discoloration of powder burns.

In his right cheek, the exit wound, is blown out in a much
larger, ragged hole.

Blood has discolored the sand beneath where his face has
been.

CLOSE UP of the Man's face as his eyes roll back and forth
beneath his eyelids as we--

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MAIN CABIN  (FLASHBACK)  - NIGHT

The Man, dressed in blue jeans and a white t-shirt is moving
quickly through the hallway of the Main Cabin.

There's panic in his face.

He's opening doors, turning on lights and looking into each
room he comes to.

About half-way down the hall, he comes to a door that's
locked.

He looks down.

The light is already on in this room.

He gets down on the floor and looks under the door.

                            MAN
                         (to himself)
               My God!

He starts to get up, but before he can a boot connects with
the left side of his face.

Everything goes black.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. MAIN CABIN - NIGHT

The SOUNDS OF BEING DRAGGED.






The Man is being dragged down the front steps of the Cabin
in the moonlight and through the parking lot.

CLOSE UP of his eyes as they open momentarily.

MAN'S POV as a big, bald man pulls him along through the
parking lot.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. ARROYO  (BACK TO PRESENT)  - SUNDOWN

CLOSE ON the Man as his eyes open and he seems to be coming
back to himself.

LOW ROAR in the bg.

Man squints his eyes as he tries to decide what he's
hearing.

LOW ROAR GROWING LOUDER.

A moment of recognition on the Man's face as he tries
desperately to get up.

ROAR GROWING LOUDER.

Man looks up the arroyo.

A wall of water carrying with it massive amounts of desert
debris is roaring toward him.

He's swept away by the wall of water.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. CABIN KITCHEN - NIGHT

Greg sits at the kitchen table.  Suzanne sets a cup of
steaming coffee in front of him.

                          SUZANNE
               Do you remember anything, anything
          at all?

Greg takes the cup of coffee away from his lips without
taking a sip.

                            GREG
               I remember waking up in the desert.
          This man is dressing me and talking
          about killing me.  I think ... I killed
          him.






                          SUZANNE
               What did he look like?

                            GREG
               I couldn't see his face.

                          SUZANNE
               You think he took the money?

                            GREG
               How much money did I have?

                          SUZANNE
               How should I know?

Suzanne sits down with her cup of coffee.

                            GREG
               I looked at the Map in the Jeep.  I
          guess it's his Jeep and I drove straight
          here.

Suzanne smiles.

                          SUZANNE
               Is this some kind of self-defense
          thing you're working on?

Greg jumps, spilling his coffee.

                            GREG
               It was self-defense.  He was going
          to kill me.

Suzanne is up and at the sink.  She returns with a sponge,
wiping up the coffee.

                          SUZANNE
               Take it easy, Greg.

Greg looks at her.

                            GREG
               Is that my name, Greg?

She takes his head in her arms and cuddles it.

                          SUZANNE
               We'd better carry through what
          you've started.

                            GREG
               What did I start?






                          SUZANNE
               You've got to go up on the mountain
          with the others.

Greg gets up, goes to the window and looks up at the
mountain.

LONG SHOT through the window of various lights making their
way up the mountain.

                         GREG(O.S.)
               What the hell are they doing up
          there?

Suzanne joins Greg at the window.

She looks up at Greg as he looks up at the mountain.

                          SUZANNE
               Looking for answers no one has.
          Playing Indian.  Who cares?  The bottom
          line is we don't supply 'em with one God
          damned thing 'cept a mountain and little
          mumbo-jumbo and for that, they pay $1000
          a piece.

Greg looks at Suzanne.

                            GREG
               I'm not going up there.

He turns around and she holds him.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. EDGE OF THE ARROYO - NIGHT

The water that surged through the arroyo is gone as quickly
as it arrived.

SPUTTERING NOISE.

At the edge of the arroyo, among the debris, an arm reaches
out.

The Man emerges from the tangle of branches and trash.

He COUGHS A WATERY COUGH, then THROWS-UP.

He pulls himself to the top of the arroyo, it's painful and
slow.

At the top of the arroyo, the Man stands, but then collapses
beside the dirt road.

                                                     CUT TO:




EXT. SUBURBAN HOME, WILDORADO, TEXAS - DAY

ESTABLISHING SHOTS as we get a look at the neighborhood.
It's not exactly the richest neighborhood in town, but it's
by no means the slums.  The people who live here incur a lot
of bills and pay most of them.

Meg Allen, dressed in shorts and a tank top, kneels beside
one of the blooming rose bushes that line her driveway.

She scoops some iron filings from a small bucket and
sprinkles them into the soil around the rose bush.  Then,
taking her hand spade she turns them into the soil.

In the bg, a car pulls up and stops at the curb in front of
Meg's house.

Meg looks up and with her gloved hand she wipes the sweat
from her brow.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. COUNTY VEHICLE - DAY

CLOSE ON a pile of papers that lay on the passenger's side
of the car.

The floor of the car is littered with candy bar wrappers.

A hand enters the frame and carelessly shuffles through the
files that lay there.

ROGER WESTLIN, late-thirties, mostly clean shaven, except
for patches of beard that he's missed, sits behind the wheel
looking through the papers.

Roger wears a cheap suit and the collar of his 50% cotton,
50% polyester shirt is way to big for him - serious case of
chicken neck.

The look on his face indicates that he's found the file he's
looking for.

INSERT.  A file marked GREG RUSSELL ALLEN.

CLOSE ON an air-conditioning vent in the county car as
Roger's hand goes to it and points it more in his direction.

His hand feels the air that coming from the vent.

Roger rolls the window down and cuts off the car.

Roger looks at Meg standing there watching the car.

                                                     CUT TO:




EXT. SUBURBAN HOME, WILDORADO, TEXAS - DAY

CLOSE ON Meg as she shields her eyes from the sun.

                        ROGER(O.S.)
               Mrs. Allen?

                            MEG
               Yes.

                           ROGER
               Is your husband at home?

                            MEG
               Who are you?

Roger reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an old,
scarred wallet.

He flips the wallet open, there some sort of badge pinned on
the inside.

He flips it closed just as fast.

                           ROGER
               I'm Roger Westlin, parole officer
          for  Oldham county.

She turns to the roses that are in full bloom along the
driveway.

                            MEG
                         (re: roses)
               They're beautiful, aren't they?

Roger looks at the roses.

                           ROGER
               Roses, yeah, nice.

                            MEG
               I won't use them for his funeral.

She reaches out and gently touches one of the blossoms.

                        MEG (CONT'D)
               They weren't blooming when the
          children died.  I would have used them,
          then, but not now.

She looks directly at Roger.

                        MEG (CONT'D)
               He can't have everything, can he?





Roger tilts his head to the side.

                           ROGER
               Do you know something I don't know?

Meg looks Roger Westlin up and down.

                            MEG
               More than likely, yes.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. SUBURBAN HOME, WILDORADO, TEXAS - DAY

MOVING SHOT as we travel through the vestibule, living room
and back into the den.

In front of us walk Meg Allen, followed by Roger Westlin.

CLOSE ON one picture as we pass.  It's one of those big
frames with all the sections cut out so that it holds at
least twenty different shots.

All the photos are of two toe-headed children in various
stages of being babies to the ripe old ages of four and
eight - both of them boys.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. SUBURBAN HOME, DEN AREA - DAY

Through the louvered windows, off to one side, we can see a
grape arbor covering a patio.  The sun makes patterns on the
windows and the Mexican tiles that cover the patio.

Meg sits on the love seat by the empty fireplace.

Roger takes a seat on a black sofa.

                            MEG
               Would you like something to drink?
          Iced tea?  A beer?

Roger's looking above the sofa.

There's a shrine to Greg Allen above him.  Pictures of Greg
from the time he was a boy, through his college years, right
through two tours of duty in Vietnam, his medals(Bronze
Star, Purple Heart, "Airborne" patch, etc) all nicely
framed, then pictures of he and the boys together.

                        MEG (CONT'D)
               Mr. Westlin?

Roger comes back to himself.




                           ROGER
               Tea, please.

Meg walks around the corner to the kitchen.  We can HEAR the
REFRIGERATOR DOOR OPEN.

Roger stands and takes in the Greg Allen shrine, especially
the pictures of Greg in Vietnam.

                       ROGER (CONT'D)
               Your husband was quite a hero,
          wasn't he?

Meg answers from the kitchen.

                         MEG(O.S.)
               Is quite a hero, Mr. Westlin, is.

Roger makes a face and mimics her saying to himself, "Is
quite a hero, is."

Roger goes to the windows.

A rototiller sits in a rather large, partially tilled, area.

Meg enters, a beer in one hand and a glass of tea in the
other.

Roger points to the freshly turned soil.

                           ROGER
               Future roses?

                            MEG
               Yes, future roses.

Roger takes the iced tea and downs half of it, then sits.

                        MEG (CONT'D)
               The accident took us all by
          surprise, but it doesn't change
          anything.  I mean, it changes
          everything, but that's the same as
          changing nothing, isn't it?

She smiles wanly and takes a slug from her beer.

Roger seems confused.

                           ROGER
               Your husband's been like clock work
          with his visits to me every week.  Never
          protested a single time when I made him
          pee in a bottle and now, out of the
          blue, he's gone.


                            MEG
               I know.

                           ROGER
               And you're not worried.

                            MEG
               Of course I'm worried, Mr. Westlin.
          Why would I think he was dead, if I
          wasn't worried.  Gregory does things as
          only Gregory can do them.  He'd started
          studying alternate pathways of
          understanding reality--

                           ROGER
               Drugs!?

                            MEG
               No, not drugs.  He became
          interested in the nearly 200 Native
          American cultures that flourished in
          this country before we showed up.

                           ROGER
               And?

She takes a long pull from her beer.  When she pulls the can
away, there's a fine little foam circle on her upper lip.

                            MEG
               And he thought he'd found a way
          out.

                           ROGER
               Out of what?

                            MEG
               Surely, with that file in your
          hand, you don't have to ask obvious
          questions, do you?

                           ROGER
               So why think he's dead?

                            MEG
               You don't really know Gregory, do
          you?  Of course not.  He was, and
          perhaps, still is, one of those people
          who have the ability to begin again,
          wholeheartedly, in any direction.  It's
          just ... after the ... ah ... accident,
          it seemed like there were few directions
          left that didn't include a whole bunch
          of painful memories.  He thought he'd
          found a way--

                           ROGER
               Did he tell you where he was going?



                            MEG
               No, he didn't.

Roger stands.

                           ROGER
               If he's left the state of Texas,
          he's in violation of his parole.

                            MEG
               He's not really a criminal, you
          know?

                           ROGER
               He broke the law, a jury found him
          guilty.  Due to the delicate and
          personal nature of the crime, and your
          loss, he was paroled.

                            MEG
               Do you have any children, Mr.
          Westlin?

                           ROGER
               I'm not married.  He could go to
          jail ya know?

Meg smiles at the corners of her mouth.

                            MEG
               I don't think that concerns him,
          Mr. Westlin.

Roger looks at her with a hard look.

                           ROGER
               It should.  Huntsville's no joking
          matter.

She smiles big.

                            MEG
               He has a get-out-of-jail-free card.

                           ROGER
               Beg pardon?

                            MEG
               You see, if it doesn't work, this
          other path, I'm quite certain he'll kill
          himself.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. OLD PICK UP - MORNING

A MEXICAN, late 20's, is driving along a dirt road.  He's
SINGING some TEJANO FAVORITE.



He STOPS SINGING, and puts the brakes on.

The Mexican looks up the road.

There, lying beside the dirt road, is a man.  He looks dead.

                          MEXICAN
                         (under his breath)
               Madre de Dios!

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DIRT ROAD, DESERT - MORNING

The truck moves slowly up beside the body of the Man.

The truck comes to a stop beside the body.

The passenger door opens.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. OLD PICK UP - MORNING

The Mexican leans from the driver's seat and pokes the Man
with an aluminum baseball bat.

The Man simply lies there without moving.

The Mexican pushes on the Man's body one more time.

                          MEXICAN
               Esta morte, si?

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT DIRT ROAD, DESERT - MORNING

The Mexican slams the door.

The Man's right hand twitches, and claws at the dirt.

MAN'S POV as the truck pulls away throwing dirt on him.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. OLD PICK UP - MORNING

The Mexican tries to get back into his SONG, but this time
his WHISTLING is ALL AIR.

He looks up into the rear view mirror.

INSERT.  The Man has raised his head and is crawling after
the truck.




The Mexican SLAMS ON THE BRAKES and crosses himself.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DIRT ROAD, DESERT - LATE MORNING

SOME TIME LATER.

A Life Flight Helicopter has the Man strapped onto one of
the pontoon gurneys.

Off to the side a HIGHWAY PATROLMAN, early 30's, Hispanic,
muscle man, is talking to the Mexican.

Everyone grabs for his hat as the Life Flight Helicopter's
rotary wings kick up the desert sand.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. CABIN BEDROOM - MORNING

Greg lies sleeping on his stomach with only the sheet
partially covering his naked body.

The morning light filters in through the gauze curtains
giving the room a soft, sexy feel.

The bathroom door opens.

Suzanne steps from the bathroom naked, drying her hair.

She wraps the big towel around her and walks over to the
bed.

She sits on the bed next to Greg.

He MOANS.

                          SUZANNE
               Ough, I like the sound of that.

Greg reaches up and puts his hand between her legs.

She grabs his hand.

                      SUZANNE (CONT'D)
               Your gauge has got to be on full
          after last night.  I know mine is.

Greg rolls over and grabs her around the waist.

                            GREG
               That's the great thing about
          amnesia, everyone's a different person,
          even me.

She moves to the chest of drawers, pulling on some under
pants underneath the towel.


                          SUZANNE
               You were weird before, but now,
          Jesus, you're out there.

Greg up on one elbow.

                            GREG
               I've done something bad, haven't I?

                          SUZANNE
               Define "bad".

He sits up and touches his chest.

                            GREG
               I feel it here.

She turns on him and shoots this at him with some venom.

                          SUZANNE
               Well, I guess you'll just have to
          raise the dead and give back all that
          money you supposedly lost!

CLOSE ON Greg as he looks at her in earnest.

                            GREG
               Look, if I don't remember, I don't
          remember.  There's no sense in trying to
          make me feel like I'm pretending not to
          remember.

Suzanne pulls on a pair of jeans and whips the towel off.
Rummaging through a drawer she pulls out a white t-shirt and
pulls it over her head.

She comes over and sits down on the bed beside him.

                          SUZANNE
               Harvey didn't trust you from the
          beginning, and me, well hell, Harvey was
          older and not nearly as cute.  Okay, I
          fell for you, but then you started
          snooping around.  Harvey kicked the shit
          out of you and the next morning he left
          with all the money.  First time in his
          life he felt it was time to trust a
          bank.  'Cept he never made it to the
          bank.  Never made it to town.  I suspect
          he never made it off this ranch.  But
          what I can't figure, what puzzles me
          beyond belief, is you coming back here.

Greg shrugs.





                            GREG
               You lost me.

Suzanne has a tear rolling down one cheek.

                          SUZANNE
               Yeah, well, you lost me, too.  It
          was good last night, though, wasn't it?

                            GREG
               The best I can remember.

                          SUZANNE
                         (heavy sarcasm)
               That says a lot.

The SOUND OF CARS SCREECHING TO A HALT outside in the
parking lot.

Suzanne pulls the curtain aside revealing the scene out
there to Greg.

There are several County Sheriff cars with dust clouds
roiling around them.

Sheriff Deputies with their weapons drawn are approaching
the house.

In the back of one of the cars sits Jonathan Winks-a-lot
with his hands cuffed behind him.

The bedroom door BURSTS OPEN as SHERIFF LOWELL NEWLAND, 30,
skinny with the complexion of pistachio ice cream, enters.

Sheriff Newland is flanked by armed Deputies with their
weapons drawn.

                      SHERIFF NEWLAND
               Gregory Blanes, a.k.a., Gregory
          Barnes, a.k.a., Blake Gregores, a.k.a.
          God knows what, you're under arrest for
          the murder of one, Harvey Trotting
          Horse.

Sheriff Newland turns to Suzanne.

                  SHERIFF NEWLAND (CONT'D)
               They found the body over by Arroyo
          Secco in Greenlee County.  Floods last
          night must have washed him into Arizona.
          Not a stitch on him, no money, his face
          was cut off!

Suzanne LETS OUT A MEWLING SOUND.

                  SHERIFF NEWLAND (CONT'D)
               Sorry.



He turns his attention back to Greg.

                  SHERIFF NEWLAND (CONT'D)
               You have the right to remain
          silent, anything you say can, and will,
          be used against you in a court of law.
          You have the right to a lawyer of your
          choice, if you can't afford one, one
          will be appointed to you by the County.
          Do you have any questions?

Greg's being cuffed buck-ass naked by the Deputies.

                            GREG
               Can I put on some pants?!

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. SHERIFF'S CAR - DAY

Jonathan Winks-a-lot is sitting there quietly, when he sees
something.

He WHISTLES LOW.

                          JONATHAN
               Oh boy!

The door is jerked open, Greg, naked, is pushed into the
back seat and the door is slammed.

Greg and Jonathan sitting there both of them looking
straight ahead.

                     JONATHAN (CONT'D)
               All dressed up and no place to go,
          huh?

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. LATE MODEL VOLVO - DAY

Meg Allen downshifts into third and ZOOMS around slower
traffic.

Someone BLOWS A HORN at her, but she merely grimaces and
whips the car back into the next available slot.

From the traffic she's passing, she is not going the speed
limit.

SIREN in the bg.

Meg looks into her rear view mirror.

INSERT.  The red lights of the authorities flashing back
there.




Meg slows down.

                            MEG
                         (under her breath)
               Shit!

A county vehicle moves up beside her in the outside lane.

The SIREN STILL BLARING, and the light flashing.

Without looking over, Meg starts to pull over.

HORN BLOWS a friendly, "SHAVE & A HAIRCUT" from the county
vehicle.

Meg looks over.

There sits Roger Westlin in his county car.  The portable
light thrown on top.  He's all smiles.

He signals her to follow him.

Roger WHOOPS HIS SIREN and shoots out in front of her.

Meg grabs the wheel and stomps on the gas.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. PARKING LOT - DAY

Meg is making her through the parking lot like a drill
instructor.

Roger walk/runs up beside her.

She looks at him, but does not smile.

                           ROGER
               We cut through that bit of lunch
          hour shit, didn't we?!

Meg does not turn to talk to him, but keeps heading across
the parking.

                            MEG
               Mr. Westlin, if you're looking for
          a thank you, then thank you, but really
          I've got other things on my mind right
          now.

                           ROGER
               I don't need your permission to see
          him, you know?

She steps in front of Roger.




He has to step to one side to keep from running into her.

She's right in his face.

                            MEG
               Where's your compassion, Mr.
          Westlin?  Huh, where is it?

Roger looks away from Meg Allen.

                           ROGER
               You think I enjoy this?

                            MEG
               Yes, I do.

She walks through the Hospital doors and they fly back and
almost knock Roger Westlin down.

                                                    CUT TO:

INT. WILDORADO HOSPITAL - DAY

Roger yapping behind her like some mongrel dog.

                           ROGER
               Well, I don't enjoy, no ma'am, I
          don't, but someone has to speak for
          those innocent boys and when the parents
          are the cause of great harm, sometimes
          it's only the State that can speak for
          them.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. ELEVATOR BAYS - DAY

Meg pushes the up button.

                            MEG
                         (whispering)
               If you think that for one minute
          this man has stopped hearing his son's
          screams, then you're a bit crazier that
          I first thought you were.

DING of ELEVATOR BELL.

Elevator doors open and they step in.  Others gathered
around also crowd on.

Meg is crowded back into the rear of the elevator with Roger
right beside her shoulder to shoulder.







                           ROGER
                         (whispering)
               Just because he tried to kill
          himself, doesn't mean that the State's
          phase of punishment is over.

A man next to Meg looks her way.

Meg gives Roger a look that would kill a more conscious
human being.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

The DOCTOR, early 50's, trim build with a full moustache,
stands looking at the Man's chart.

The Man is lying back in a partial sitting position in the
bed.

His face is entirely bandaged by gauze bandages.  There's
only eye slits and a slit for the mouth.

The door to the room opens.

                            MAN
                         (raspy voice)
               Hey, Doc, look!

The Doctor turns toward the door.

Meg Allen and Roger Westlin are standing there.

                     MAN(O.S.) (CONT'D)
                         (raspy voice)
               It's Claude Rains meets Ward and
          June Cleaver.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. LUNA, NEW MEXICO - DAY

Luna is just west of the Continental Divide and at the tail
end of the Colorado Plateau.  It looks dried up and ready to
blow away.

ESTABLISHING SHOT of the town square which is nothing more
than a dry well surrounded by flat stones and dust.

LONG PAN of all the glaringly white/adobe houses that
surround the square.  Everything lifeless in the noonday
heat.





A scrawny dog moves its tail end out of the sun and back
into the ever decreasing shade.

The dog is lying beside the Jail.

Several Deputies cars are parked out front.

INSERT.  Sign above the wooden door that reads, Luna Jail,
below that it reads, Sheriff Lowell Newland.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. LUNA JAIL - DAY

A deputy sits at the main desk and appears to be reading a
magazine.

Another Deputy is lying on a long bench asleep.

CAMERA MOVES TOWARD a wooden door with no windows in it.

CAMERA GOES THROUGH that door as we--

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. JAIL CELLS - DAY

Down a long windowless corridor that spills into the cell
area.

There are three cells.  There are no walls between these
cells, merely bars that separate the large room into three
equal spaces.

The first one is empty.

The second one is occupied by Greg Allen who is lying on the
bunk with his forearm over his eyes.

Greg is now dressed in what looks like a Deputy's uniform
without the insignia.

In the third cell sitting on his bed is Jonathan Winks-a-
lot, dressed in the same manner.

Greg moves his arm off his eyes, and glances in the
direction of the Indian.

Greg up now on one elbow.

                            GREG
               You know I'm not him, don't ya?!







                          JONATHAN
               Sure, I'd have to be blind, or a
          white man, not to know.

                            GREG
               You got to tell them, you've got to
          clear this thing up for me.

                          JONATHAN
               This thing you need clearin' up is
          the only thing you got goin' for you.

                            GREG
               They've arrested me for murder!

                          JONATHAN
               The important thing is you got out
          of that place.  The only visions quested
          there were greed and death.

Greg looks at him distractedly.

Jonathan moves closer to the bars that separate them and
WHISPERS.

                     JONATHAN (CONT'D)
               There is someone who can help you.

Greg moves a little closer to the bars.

                     JONATHAN (CONT'D)
               My grandfather.

                            GREG
               Does he live around here?

                     JONATHAN (CONT'D)
               He don't live anywhere any more,
          cause he's dead.

Greg looks at Jonathan like he's crazy.

                            GREG
               Your dead grandfather's going to
          help me?

                          JONATHAN
               If I call him, he'll help.

Greg lays back down and puts his arm over his eyes.









                            GREG
                         (laughing to
               himself)
               That's great!  Great!  You call him
          here, okay?  Then there'll be three of
          us to figure this thing out; one with
          amnesia, one that's crazy and one that's
          dead.

Jonathan leans even closer to the bars.

                          JONATHAN
               There's only one problem.

Greg's LAUGHTER GOES BALLISTIC.

                            GREG
                         (through the
               laughter)
               Only one!?

Jonathan looks at Greg strangely, but continues.

                          JONATHAN
               He can't come during the day.
               It upsets people when they see him
          walking through walls.

Greg stops laughing and looks seriously at Jonathan.

                            GREG
               Then, you set it up for him to come
          at night okay, with all the other ghosts
          and goblins.

Jonathan is serious.

                          JONATHAN
               Maybe he'll bring some of the
          others, but I doubt it.

Greg snorts another laugh as he lays down and rolls away
from Jonathan.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. HOSPITAL HALLWAY - DAY

A large AFRICAN AMERICAN MALE, late 20's, shaved head, is
pushing the Man down the hallway.

The Man still has the bandages on his face.

A feminine hand comes into the frame and rests on the Man's
shoulder.

The Man reaches up and pats the hand gently.



Meg Allen walks briskly alongside the wheelchair.

                            MEG
               It's me that's getting you out of
          here.  I hope you know that.  The
          Doctors wanted to keep you until your
          face had healed, but I told them, "How
          is he supposed to remember who he is, if
          you keep him isolated from everything
          that he is."  They didn't have an
          argument for that one.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. HOSPITAL - DAY

Meg has taken off into the parking lot t


FADE IN:



The Man sits watching her walk off.

                      AFRICAN AMERICAN
               You're a lucky man, yes sir, a
          lucky man!  Um ummm!  She's a fine
          looking woman, yes she is.

The Man's head tilts like a dog that doesn't quite
understand what it's hearing.

The Man starts to stand up.

The African American's hand comes down on the Man's
shoulder.

                 AFRICAN AMERICAN (CONT'D)
               You got to sit here nice until your
          ride comes, man, them's the rules.

EXTREME CLOSE UP of the African American's hand as the Man's
hand grabs it and twists.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. LATE MODEL VOLVO - DAY

Meg is driving up to the Hospital entrance.

She downshifts the Swedish car and applies the brakes.

Meg's expression goes to one of puzzlement.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. HOSPITAL - DAY

The Man is standing behind the wheelchair where the African
American is slumped and unconscious.



The Man gets in and closes the car door.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. LATE MODEL VOLVO - DAY

Meg sits there not driving away from the curb.

                            MEG
               What happened?

The Man points straight ahead.

                            MAN
                         (raspy voice)
               Drive.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. INTERSTATE 40 OUTSIDE OF WILDORADO, TEXAS - DAY

Establishing shots of the two of them sitting in the car as
they speed along the Interstate.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. LATE MODEL VOLVO - DAY

Meg looks over at the Man.

                            MEG
               I wish you would talk to me.

The Man turns slowly and looks at her.

She looks away.

                            MAN
                         (raspy voice)
               Somewhere out in the desert near
          the New Mexico, Arizona border, some
          sonabitch tried to blow my head off.

                            MEG    Darling, they think the
Mexicans might
have taken your Jeep, but the wound looks self-inflicted.

                            MAN
                         (raspy voice)
               Where's my stuff?

                            MEG
               It's there in the back.

Man pulls the gym bag up front.



He's rifling around inside the bag.

                            MAN
                         (raspy voice)
               Where's the gun, huh?  If I tried
          to kill myself, how did I get rid of the
          gun?

                            MEG
               They think the Mexicans must have
          taken that, too.

The Man pulls a brown envelope from the bag and wags it in
the air in front if him.

                            MAN
               The Mexicans took my Jeep, they
          took my gun, but lookie here, those
          stupid spicks forgot the hundred
          thousand bucks!

SCREECH OF TIRES.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. VOLVO, SIDE OF THE ROAD - DAY

Megan sits there with the money spread out over her lap.

She's smiling.

She looks up at the Man.

                            MAN
                         (raspy voice)
               Don't ask me where I got it.  I
          don't know.  I don't know you.  I don't
          know me.  All I know is some son of a
          bitch tried to kill me.

Meg's hand caresses the Man's leg.

The Man reaches down and gently takes her hand.

                            MEG
               That would explain the missing
          Jeep.

                            MAN
                         (raspy voice)
               You're damned right it would
          explain it!

                            MEG
               But how do you remember having the
          money, if you don't remember anything
          else?




                            MAN
                         (raspy voice)
               Who are you, Perry Mason?  I
          remember what I remember.  I rest my
          case.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. VISION QUEST SIGHT - AFTERNOON

ESTABLISHING SHOTS.  The main cabin with Suzanne sitting on
the front porch reading in the dying light.

The parking lot with ten to twelve cars parked in it.

The mountain behind the house where various fires curl their
lazy smoke skyward.

Suzanne looks up from her book.(She's reading Carrie
Fisher's Surrender the Pink.)

She looks off down toward the main highway.

A rooster-tail of dust is being thrown into the desert sky.

Suzanne puts her book down and walks down off the porch into
the parking lot.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. PARKING LOT ENTRANCE, BY THE DIRT ROAD - DAY

Suzanne comes to a stop and waits there.

TIRES ON GRAVEL/DIRT SOUND in the bg.

The Sheriff's car as it comes barreling toward her.

Suzanne stands there not moving.

Sheriff's car comes skidding to a stop right beside her.

SOUND OF INSIDE LOCKS BEING RELEASED.

Suzanne gets in.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. SHERIFF NEWLAND'S CAR - DAY

Sheriff Lowell Newland sits there grinning.

                       SUZANNE(O.S.)
               What the hell are you doing here!?

The smile disappears from the Sheriff's face.




                          SHERIFF
                         (babbling)
               I got ... reasons ... a crime's
          been committed ... it's not like--

Suzanne gives him one of her killer looks.

                          SUZANNE
               Shut-up!

The Sheriff looks down at the floor of the vehicle.

                      SUZANNE (CONT'D)
               This is a difficult period, Lowell.
          Many things are happening at the same
          time.  The important thing is you've
          arrested the man that killed Harvey.

                          SHERIFF
               When you planning on having the
          funeral.

                          SUZANNE
               Won't be any funeral.

Sheriff Newland reacts.

                      SUZANNE (CONT'D)
               You know Harvey was quarter Sioux.
          We'll put him up on a burial rack and
          let the animals and nature do the rest.

                          SHERIFF
               That's good!  That's real good.

                          SUZANNE
               You can count on our continued
          support in the next election if certain
          things happen like they're supposed to.
          Certain things are still going to
          happen, aren't they?

                          SHERIFF
               I'm scared, Suzanne--

Suzanne opens her door.

                          SUZANNE
               That's good.  Scared is not a bad
          way to be right now, Lowell.

She smiles a winning smile, then gets out and closes the
door.

                                                     CUT TO:






INT. MEGAN'S DINING ROOM - EVENING

The Man is seated at the head of a table that seats six.

Steaming pots of vegetables and potatoes are already on the
table.

Meg looks through the small round porthole that separates
the dining room from the kitchen.

She sticks her head into the dining room.

                            MEG
               Supper'll be ready in about five
          minutes.

She disappears back into the kitchen.

The Man gets up and wanders over toward the living room.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MEGAN'S LIVING ROOM - EVENING

The Man is picking up various knickknacks and looking at
them, placing them gently back in their spots.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MEGAN'S HALLWAY - EVENING

The Man turns on the hallway light.

He walks slowly down the hallway.

He stops at one point and examines the walls.

There, on the walls, are squares and rectangles of
discoloration, as if, pictures had, until recently, hung
there.

The Man outlines one of the rectangles with his finger.

                         MEG(O.S.)
               Supper's ready!

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MEGAN'S DINING ROOM - EVENING

The kitchen door swings open as Meg comes through with two
sizzling steaks on a platter.






                            MEG
               I did them in the stove.  I know
          how you like them charcoaled, but I
          didn't think you'd want to wait for the
          coals--

She places the biggest steak on his plate.

                            MAN
               They're fine.  I mean they look
          great.  But I can't eat it.

                            MEG
               Why not?  You love steak!

                            MAN
               I was shot in the mouth.  It's
          gonna be a while before I can chew
          anything like that.

                            MEG
               I knew that.  What's wrong with me?
          I knew that!

The Man reaches out and grabs her hand.

                            MAN
               Bring your plate down here.

He pats the table beside him.

She retrieves her plate and walking back to him smiles a
small smile.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               The lights hurt my eyes, do you
          mind?

She's at the wall turning the rheostat down.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               Little lower ... lower ... a little
          lower.

                            MEG
               We'll be eating in the dark.

He pulls a zippo lighter out and lights the candle on the
table.

She reaches out and takes the lighter from him.

                        MEG (CONT'D)
               Where did you get this?







                            MAN
               When you gonna realize that every
          question you ask me is gonna get the
          same answer?

Meg is holding the lighter and she turns it in her hand.

                            MEG
               Did you start smoking again?

                            MAN
               That I can answer.  Not in recent
          memory, but I think, I'd love to.

                            MEG
               I don't smoke.

He digs into his vegetables.

                            MAN
               Good for you.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. LUNA JAIL CELLS - NIGHT

Greg is still laid out on his cot.

Jonathan is sitting up on his and he looks anxiously toward
the door leading to where the Deputies are.

The door opens.

Sheriff Lowell Newland hauls an OLD INDIAN, 80's?, long
braids down either side of his shoulders, into the room.
The Indian's face is like a clown's as he croons, "HOME ON
THE RANGE".

                         OLD INDIAN
               "Hooommmme, hooommmme on the range,
          where the deeeeer and the antelope
          plaaaaay."

Sheriff Newland simply unlocks the first cell and pushes the
Old Indian in.

                          SHERIFF
               Looks like it's a full house, boys!

The Old Indian stumbles and falls onto his bunk and keeps
singing.

                         OLD INDIAN
               "Where seldom is heard, a
          discouraging word, and the skyyyyys are
          not cloudy all daaaaay!"



Sheriff exits.

Jonathan reaches through the bars and pokes Greg.

                          JONATHAN
               We've got a visitor.

Greg looks out from under his arm at Jonathan.

Jonathan gestures toward the Old Indian.

                     JONATHAN (CONT'D)
               Welcome.

Greg turns to the Old Indian.

There sits the Old Indian cross-legged on his bunk.  He's no
longer swaying and slurring his words.  He sits there
quietly then speaks these words.

                         OLD INDIAN
               "Give me a home where the Buffalo
          roam."

He pulls a bottle of muscatel out from under his big shirt
and smiles at the two men.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT.  MEG AND GREG ALLEN'S DINING ROOM - NIGHT

She's about half way through her steak when she looks up at
the Man.

He's not eating.

The Man gets up and moves over to behind Megan's chair.

Megan looking up at him with an unsure smile on her face.

He begins to massage her neck.

She closes her eyes and her head rolls around easily on her
shoulders.

                            MEG
               You're not hungry?

                            MAN
               Oh, I'm hungry, all right.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. LUNA JAIL CELLS - NIGHT

Greg is sitting up on his bunk and looking at the Old
Indian.



The Old Indian holds the nearly empty bottle of muscatel and
takes a sip before passing it through to Greg.

                            GREG
                         (slurring a little)
               He sneaks a bottle into the jail.
          Hey, the man's a genius.  Now what?!
          Did you stuff a couple sticks of
          dynamite up your ass, cause that's about
          the only way we're gonna get outta here.

                         OLD INDIAN
               You might be right about the
          dynamite.

The Old Indian lifts one cheek of his ass off the bunk and
makes a face.

FART SOUND.

                    OLD INDIAN (CONT'D)
               False alarm.

Jonathan CRACKS UP WITH LAUGHTER.

At first Greg just sits there watching Jonathan laugh, then
the Old Indian FARTS AGAIN and the Old Indian starts
LAUGHING.

Finally, Greg STARTS LAUGHING.

Jonathan wipes the tears from his eyes.

                          JONATHAN
                         (re: Greg)
               Is he the one?

                         OLD INDIAN
               He's the one.

                          JONATHAN
               It doesn't look like him.

                         OLD INDIAN
               It could, but it doesn't matter.
          He's the one.

                            GREG
               Hey, you guys mind telling me
          what's going on?

                         OLD INDIAN
               You look like someone I once knew,
          a long time ago.

                            GREG
               Everybody says I look like somebody
          else.


                         OLD INDIAN
               I think you are that person.

                            GREG
               I never been this way before.

                         OLD INDIAN
               It's not what I see here.

He points to his eyes.

                    OLD INDIAN (CONT'D)
               It's what I feel here.

He touches his heart.

                    OLD INDIAN (CONT'D)
               A long time ago, I had a dream
          about you and it came true.  Now, I have
          another dream and here you are, ready to
          come true again.

                            GREG
               You got me confused with this other
          fellow, same as the law.  When they
          catch him, you'll have your man.

                          JONATHAN
               Greg, this is the man I was telling
          you about.

                            GREG
               Your grandfather?

Jonathan nods.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
                         (starting to laugh)
               The dead man?

                          JONATHAN
               The same.

The Old Indian gets up from his bunk and does a little
dance.

                            GREG
                         (laughing some more)
               What's your name, dead man?

The Old Indian stops dancing and looks directly at Greg.

                         OLD INDIAN
               Sitting Bull.





Greg lets go with a peal of hysterical laughter as he stands
up and extends his hand.

                            GREG
                         (through the
               laughter)
               Yeah, glad to meet ya, I'm General
          George Armstrong Custer.

Sitting Bull pulls an old Colt 45 from beneath his loose
shirt, COCKS IT and points it directly at Greg.

                        SITTING BULL
               To be more precise, you are the
          reincarnation of General George
          Armstrong Custer.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MEG AND GREG ALLEN'S DINING ROOM - NIGHT

One of the Man's hands goes beneath her blouse as the
massage continues.

The top button on her blouse pops off and bounces onto her
plate.

                            MEG
               This is my best blouse.

He continues to massage as she puts up some resistance.

                        MEG (CONT'D)
               I want you to stop.

She starts to get up and he holds her down.

                            MAN
               I don't wanna stop!

She gets up and pushes him back away from her.

She walks calmly to the edge of the dining room, then turns.

He's after her as she rushes toward the hallway.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MEGAN'S HALLWAY - EVENING

Megan makes it to the first room on the right, slams the
door behind her.

We hear a CLICK as the door locks.

The Man is at the door twisting the doorknob back and forth.





                            MAN
               Let me in.

                         MEG(O.S.)
               Go away!

                            MAN
               Let me in, or I'll break down the
          door!

                         MEG(O.S.)
               You don't want to come in here,
          believe me.

                            MAN
               I'm gonna count to three.

                         MEG(O.S.)
               For your own good, stay out!

                            MAN
               One--

                         MEG(O.S.)
               No--

                            MAN
               Two--

                            MEG
               Please--

                            MAN
               Three--

He shoulders the door and it easily pops open.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. THE BOY'S ROOM - EVENING

The room is in shadows.

Megan stands at the far end near the windows.

Light seeps in through the partially drawn curtains.

The Man reaches up and flicks on the lights.

Bunk beds along one wall.

Toys placed strategically on the beds, along the floor.

                            MAN
               What?





He goes to the chest-of-drawers.

There lies a stacks of framed photographs.

INSERT.  A photo of the boys, Bobby and Jordan with Megan
and Greg.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               Whose kids are these?

                            MEG
               Ours.

                            MAN
               Where are they?  Why aren't they
          here?

Megan walks up beside the Man and puts her arm around him.

                            MEG
               I'm going to the store and get you
          some cigarettes.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. LUNA JAIL CELLS - NIGHT

THE SAME NIGHT.  THE SAME TIME.

Greg stands there with the Old Indian, who's calling himself
Sitting Bull.

Sitting Bull still has the old Colt Revolver pointed at
Greg's mid-section.

                            GREG
               Okay, so you snuck a pistol and a
          bottle of booze into the jail!

Greg smiles and takes another hit from the bottle.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               What are you going to do, sneak out
          by shooting the lock!?

Old Indian UNCOCKS the pistol and put it back under his
shirt.

                        SITTING BULL
               Don't need to.

He walks over and pushes his cell open.

Greg and Jonathan go to their cell doors.  They both look at
each other, then push.





BOTH DOORS OPEN!

Greg pulls his cell door closed.

                            GREG
               There's something wrong here!

Jonathan steps from his cell.

                          JONATHAN
               You'd better come along.
          Grandfather rarely makes a trip for
          nothing.

                            GREG
               You go ahead.  Nice to meet ya,
          grandad.

The Old Indian enters Greg's cell.

Greg is backing away from him.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               What do you want?  What are you
          doing?

                        SITTING BULL
               Let me see.  First question.  I
          don't want nothin'!  It don't do no good
          wantin' anything when you're dead.
          Second question.  I'm doing what needs
          to be done, in the order that it needs
          doing.  Any other questions?

                            GREG
               They're going to shoot us when we
          try to escape.

Laughing, the Old Indian walks down the hallway toward the
inner office door.

                        SITTING BULL
               Come on, girls.

                            GREG
               I'm not going anywhere.  You guys
          are crazy!

CLOSE ON Sitting Bull's hand as he reaches out and grabs the
door to the outer office.

His hand on the door knob.  He turns the knob.

LOUD CLUNKING SOUND as the door knob gives and Sitting Bull
pulls the door open.

Fog rolls in from the outer office, lots of fog.  It crawls
along the floor into the cells.




Greg watches the fog rolling toward his bunk.  He picks up
his feet so that they don't touch the fog.

                            GREG
               The place is on fire!

Sitting Bull stands in the doorway to the outer office.

                        SITTING BULL
               The past is a smoldering thing.
          What are you afraid of, white man!?

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. GREG'S CAR  (FLASHBACK)  - NIGHT

ESTABLISHING SHOTS as we see the two boys in the car with
Greg.

It's RAINING HARD.

Greg is wiping the windshield with his hand, then rubbing
the moisture on his ragged face.

Bobby looks at his father.

                           BOBBY
               You okay, daddy?

Greg looks over at the boy and smiles a silly smile.

                            GREG
               Yeah, heck, I'm peachy, how about
          you?

                           BOBBY
               I wanna go home, daddy.

Jordan,in the car seat in the back, speaks up.

                           JORDAN
                         (chanting)
               Home, home, home, home, home--

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. LUNA JAIL CELL  (BACK TO PRESENT)  - NIGHT

Greg looks horror stricken.

                            GREG
               I wanna go home.

                        SITTING BULL
               You know where home is, white man?





Jonathan opens Greg's cell.

                          JONATHAN
               Come with us.

                            GREG
               Are we going home?

Jonathan over by Greg's bunk, extending his hand to him.

                          JONATHAN
               Sure, if that's where you wanna be,
          that's where we'll go.

Jonathan is leading Greg down the short hallway toward
Sitting Bull.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. OUTER OFFICE - NIGHT

The room is filled with this heavy fog.

The Deputies on duty are all asleep in different positions,
either at their desks or laying on the floor.

Sitting Bull, Jonathan and Greg come walking through the
doorway.

Sitting Bull and Jonathan are on either side of Greg.

Greg smiles and looks around.

                            GREG
               Cool dream.

                        SITTING BULL
               It's all a dream, asshole!

Sitting Bull stops by the front door.

He turns to Greg and takes Greg's face in his hands and look
directly into his eyes.

                        SITTING BULL
               Outside this door, is the past.

                            GREG
               Uh-huh.

                        SITTING BULL
               The past is like a long road.







                            GREG
                         (asian accent)
               "The past is rike a wrong load,
          glasshopper."

                        SITTING BULL
               People think you can't go back.
          Ordinarily you can't, but sometimes, you
          must ... go back ... explore ... see
          again what happened ... to try and
          understand.  You ready?

Greg smiles a big, goofy smile.

                            GREG
               Lead the way, Bull Sitter!

Sitting Bull shakes his head and opens the front door.

There is a RUSH OF HOWLING WIND and as they fight this wind
we--

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. OPEN HIGHWAY - NIGHT

ESTABLISHING SHOTS as Sitting Bull, Greg and Jonathan find
themselves along a deserted highway.

Sitting Bull starts walking down the highway.

It starts raining.

Greg's expression changes as he looks around, then he
catches up with Sitting Bull.

Sitting Bull and Greg walk down the shoulder of the darkened
highway.

                        SITTING BULL
               There's something you should know.

Greg moves closer to Sitting Bull so that he can hear over
the DOWNPOUR OF RAIN.

                            GREG
               Yeah?

                        SITTING BULL
               We can't do anything about the
          past.  We can't change anything.

                            GREG
               Why?




                        SITTING BULL
               Because we'll have to pay a price
          and there's no telling what that price
          might be.

                            GREG
               Next thing ya know, I'll be running
          into myself somewhere in my past.

Sitting Bull gives Greg a strange look.

CLOSE ON Greg as he remembers--

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. GREG'S CAR   (FLASHBACK)  -  NIGHT

Greg and the boys are speeding along on the rain-swept
highway.

                           BOBBY
               I'm thirsty, daddy.

                            GREG
               Yeah, me, too.

He points up ahead of the car.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               Well, lookie there!

CAMERA SHOOT THROUGH the windshield to the bright, dancing
neon light of a road house.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. RENDEZVOUS - NIGHT

Cars are parked on a gravel parking lot.

Some rowdy customers, dressed in cowboy clothes and cowboy
hats run from the bar, through the pouring rain and yelling
get into their pickups.

Greg's car pulls into the lot, Greg's face lit by the
dancing neon.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. GREG'S CAR - NIGHT

Greg turns to the boys.

                            GREG
               I'm going to go inside and get you
          boys a coke-cola.




Jordan chants.

                           JORDAN
               Coke, coke, coke, coke, coke--

                            GREG
               I'll just be a second, okay.

                           BOBBY
               I wanna go home.

                            GREG
               Yeah, but you want something to
          drink, too, right?  Well, am I right!?

Bobby squirms in his seat.

                           BOBBY
               Can't we go in with you?

                            GREG
               No, it's the kind of place that
          doesn't let little boys in, just
          daddies.

                           BOBBY
               Okay.

Greg gets out and locks the door.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. RENDEZVOUS PARKING LOT - NIGHT

Greg standing there in the rain.

He's simply standing there like he's about to remember
something important, but is getting soaking wet, then he
walks inside.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT.  OPEN HIGHWAY  (BACK TO PRESENT)  - NIGHT

Greg walks along the roadside, then suddenly stops.

Sitting Bull and Jonathan continue to walk.

Sitting Bull and Jonathan stop and turn around.

Greg simply stands there staring.

Greg seems horror stricken.

Up ahead, through the blinding rain, are the dancing neon
lights of the Rendezvous.



Greg tries to run past the two men and they grab him.

Sitting Bull and Jonathan are holding onto Greg as he
struggles.

                            GREG
               You don't understand, I remember.
          I remember who I am, now.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. RENDEZVOUS  (FLASHBACK)  - NIGHT

Greg is bellied up to the bar.  Someone, wearing a Stetson,
is slapping him on the back as Greg downs another shot and
follows it with a chaser of beer.

Greg says something WE CAN'T HEAR to the man with the
Stetson, then walks over to the window.

He pulls the curtain aside.

His two boys are asleep in the car.

Flash of lightning.

Greg looks at his watch.

He walks back to the bar, throws some money down and says
his good-byes that can't be heard over the SOUNDS OF THE
JUKE BOX AS HANK WILLIAMS SINGS, "I'M SO LONESOME I COULD
CRY".

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. HIGHWAY DITCH  (BACK TO PRESENT)  - NIGHT

The rain is pummeling the three men.

Greg is being held by Jonathan as Sitting Bull SCREAMS in
Greg's face.

                        SITTING BULL
               You can't change anything without
          changing everything.  One thing is
          balanced upon another and on down the
          line.  If Custer hadn't died at the
          Little Big Horn he never would have had
          his vision, his ultimate vision.

                            GREG
               And what was that ultimate vision?

                        SITTING BULL
               You still don't know, do you!?




                            GREG
               What are you talking about?  How
          the hell would I know what Custer's
          ultimate vision was?  Okay.  Okay.  I
          get it.

Greg relaxes in Jonathan's grip.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               This is one of those dreams where
          not one fucking thing makes sense.

SOUND OF A CAR APPROACHING in the bg.

Greg jerks loose from Jonathan and scrambles up the
embankment toward the road.

Jonathan starts out after him, but Sitting Bull grabs his
arm.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. GREG'S CAR  (FLASHBACK)  - NIGHT

Greg is accelerating fast down the highway.

He looks over toward Bobby who is asleep against the
passenger's door.

He musses Bobby's hair.

                           BOBBY
               Where's my coke?

                            GREG
               We'll get a coke at home.

He glances into the rear-view mirror.

Jordan is bent like a pretzel, asleep in his car seat.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT.  OPEN HIGHWAY  (BACK TO THE PRESENT)  - NIGHT

MOVING SHOT with Greg as he makes the top of the ditch and
starts flagging his arms wildly at the approaching car.

                            GREG
                         (running)
               Stop!  Stop!  You fucking drunk!

Greg out into the road.

CLOSE UP of Greg's face as he remembers--

                                                     CUT TO:



INT. GREG'S CAR  (FLASHBACK)  - NIGHT

The same horror-stricken face, but inside the car this time.

There in front of him on the road, a man waving his arms
wildly.

Greg twists the steering wheel.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. OPEN HIGHWAY  (BACK TO PRESENT)  - NIGHT

Greg standing there as the car sideswipes him.

Greg falls in the road, but turns to watch the car as it--

CAREENS into the ditch on the left and up the other side,
rocketing into the air.

SLOW-MO as the car twists in the air and a man falls from
the car.

The car hits the ground and rolls over and over.

Greg gets to his feet in the road, but his leg gives way and
he falls back.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. ALONGSIDE THE HIGHWAY  (FLASHBACK)  - NIGHT

Greg running in the grass.

He's holding his bloody right arm and he's scratched up.

He's running toward the car which has come to rest on its
crushed roof.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. GREG'S CRUSHED CAR - NIGHT

Greg comes running up.

                            GREG
                         (screaming)
               Bobby!  Jordan!

He's banging on the shattered windows with his left hand.

He bends down and tries to see in the car.

                        BOBBY(O.S.)
                         (weak)
               Daddy, help me!




The SOUND OF A BABY CRYING inside the car.

Greg tries to kick the windows in.

                            GREG
                         (screaming)
               Bobby!  Bobby, I'm gonna get you
          outta there.

Greg running over to a small stream and grabbing a slippery,
large rock.

Greg carries the rock a little ways, then drops it.

Greg bends over to pick up the rock.

SOUND OF FLAMES BURSTING TO LIFE.

Greg's head whips around.

The engine is on fire and the flames are rushing back toward
the fuel tank.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. OPEN HIGHWAY  (BACK TO PRESENT)  - NIGHT

Greg straddling the white line on the highway, trying to
pull himself in the direction of the wreck.

CLOSE UP of Greg's face as we hear a VOICE SCREAM in the
distance.

                        VOICE(O.S.)
                         (screaming)
               Bobby!!

EXPLOSION in the bg.  We see the flash of it on Greg's face
before we HEAR IT.

Greg's eyes big a saucers as he faints dead away there in
the road.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. LUNA JAIL - EARLY MORNING

ESTABLISHING SHOTS.  Jonathan is there on his bunk.  He's
awake and sitting up.

The Old Indian, the one we've known as Sitting Bull, is
lying back on his bunk.  It looks like he might be asleep.

Greg is lying, covered by a blanket on his bunk.  He's
asleep.




The inner office door opens.

There stands Sheriff Lowell Newland.  He's balancing three
breakfast trays.

He sets the first one down for the Old Indian, then slips it
under the cell door.

He walks to Greg's cell and stops.

                          SHERIFF
               Hey!  You!  Prisoner!

Greg doesn't move.

Sheriff appeals to someone he knows.

                      SHERIFF (CONT'D)
               Hey, Jonathan, wake that one up.

Jonathan reaches through the bars and pushes on Greg.

Greg comes up off the bunk like he's ready to fight or run.
His leg gives way and he falls to the floor.

                      SHERIFF (CONT'D)
                         (laughing)
               You missed your calling, boy.  You
          could take that on the road and get some
          serious laughs.

Greg, lying there on the floor, looks at the Old Indian.

Scrambled eggs cover the Old Indian's chin as he wolfs down
his breakfast and stares blankly at Greg.

Greg grabs his leg and tries to stand.

He looks back over at Jonathan who looks away.

                      SHERIFF (CONT'D)
               You ain't havin' no bad dream,
          asshole.  You're in jail.  That's a
          fact.

The Sheriff slides Greg's breakfast under the door and does
the same with Jonathan's.

                      SHERIFF (CONT'D)
               Eat.  We'll be headin' out in about
          20 minutes.

Sheriff heads to the door at the end of the hall, opens it.

The door shuts behind him.




Greg stands up.

                            GREG
               How did we get back here?

Greg limps over to the other side of his cell and looks in
at the Old Indian.

The Old Indian looks at him.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               You're Sitting Bull, Jonathan's
          grandfather, aren't you?

The Old Indian is looking at the plate of eggs that Greg has
left sitting in the middle of his cell.

                         OLD INDIAN
               You want your eggs?

Greg picks up the plate and tries to get it through the bars
without spilling the eggs.  He can't do it.

                    OLD INDIAN (CONT'D)
               Here.

The Old Indian holds his hands between the bars and Greg
dumps the eggs into his hands.

The Old Indian eats the eggs directly from his hands.

                            GREG
               You walked us out of here, last
          night.  You walked us down the road of
          the past.  I know who I am now.  I
          remember it all.

Jonathan is smiling.

                          JONATHAN
               You workin' on your defense, is
          that it?  Gonna plead insanity.  Shit,
          that's a natural defense for a white
          man.

Greg flings his empty plate at Jonathan, it RICOCHETS off
the bars with a TWANG!

                            GREG
               Don't tell me none of this
          happened.  It happened.  You were there.
          Your grandfather, Sitting Bull, was
          there!








                          JONATHAN
               You had a dream.  Good for you.
          The dream told you something about
          yourself.  Also, good for you.  Maybe I
          was in your dream.  Maybe I wasn't.  You
          got it right about my grandfather being
          Sitting Bull.  My father was a little
          boy when he saw my grandfather die.
          They thought grandfather was one of the
          leaders of the Ghost Dance.

Jonathan does a little piece of a dance around the jail
cell.

                     JONATHAN (CONT'D)
               He was just a tired old Indian.
          They tried to arrest him.  Outside his
          cabin something went wrong.  Somebody
          thought he was escaping.  They shot him
          in the back.  His horse, the one Buffalo
          Bill Cody had given him, started
          trotting in place, just a prancing.  The
          Indian Police ran away.  They thought
          the horse was doing the Ghost Dance.
          Turns out he was just doing what he'd
          been trained to do, prance around
          whenever a pistol was fired.

Greg points at the Old Indian.

                            GREG
               This isn't your grandfather!?

                          JONATHAN
               I like it.  You look crazy as hell
          when you do that, but you gotta have one
          of the Deputies, or some other white
          man, see you doing this stuff.  They'll
          never take my word on it.

                            GREG
               But my leg.  My leg!  I got hurt in
          the dream and now I can barely stand on
          my leg!

                         OLD INDIAN
               Chief Charlie Horse!

Greg looks at the Old Indian.

                            GREG
               You remember, huh?  You were there.

                         OLD INDIAN
               Chief Charlie Horse, that's what
          we'll call you!




The Old Indian starts a BRAYING LAUGH that's rather
infectious.

Jonathan starts laughing.

Greg is standing there looking back and forth between the
two Indians.

Greg beats on his leg.

                            GREG
               Chief Charlie Horse!

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. SHERIFF'S CAR - DAY

The car is bouncing along a rather bumpy dirt road out in
the desert.

Greg is sitting in the back seat trying to hold on, even
though his hands are cuffed.

BOOM! - they hit a dip and Greg's head crashes into the head
liner.

                            GREG
               Hey!  Slow down!

Sheriff Lowell Newland glances at his watch, then
frantically turns the wheel trying to keep the late model
sedan on the road.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. HIGH BLUFF - DAY

A BIG MAN, early to mid-50's, with a bald head and massive
shoulders stands looking out over the desert floor below
him.

The Big Man raises some binoculars to get a closer look.

INSERT.  A rooster-tail of dirt flies into the air behind
the Sheriff's car.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT FLOOR - DAY

The Sheriff's car comes sliding to a halt.

The Sheriff jumps out and walks around the car as he looks
into the surrounding hills.




                                                     CUT TO:

INT. SHERIFF'S CAR - DAY

Greg follows the movement of the Sheriff as he walks around
the car.

The BACK DOOR OPENS.

                       SHERIFF(O.S.)
               Get out!

Greg doesn't move.

Sheriff bends down so that he can see Greg.

                      SHERIFF (CONT'D)
               Didn't you hear me?  Get out!!

                            GREG
               Go to hell!

The Sheriff reaches into the back seat and grabs ahold of
Greg.

Greg kicks at the Sheriff.

Sheriff smashes the back of his head on the ceiling,
knocking his Cowboy hat off.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT FLOOR - DAY

The Sheriff grabs the back of his head and rubs it hard and
quick.

Sheriff draws his gun and points it into the car.

                          SHERIFF
               Get out of the God damn car!

Greg looks out from his corner in the back seat.

                            GREG
               If you're going to kill me, go
          ahead and do it!

                          SHERIFF
               There's a set of prints over in
          that arroyo.  I think they'll match your
          footprints.  So get out of the car,
          please, I'm gonna check 'em.

Greg slides to the edge of the seat, near the open door.





                            GREG
               Who put you up to this, Sheriff?

                          SHERIFF
               Come on, stand up.

Greg stays seated with his feet on the desert floor.

                            GREG
               You're not a bright man, are you
          Sheriff?

The Sheriff COCKS HIS WEAPON.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               That's what I mean.  If I keep it
          up, you'll kill me right here with the
          cuffs on, seated in your cruiser.  Now
          that's not what they wanted, was it?

The Sheriff sweats profusely as he looks at the surrounding
mountains and bluffs.

Greg reaches down and picks up the Sheriff hat and pulls it
hard down over his own head.

The Sheriff looks back at Greg.

                          SHERIFF
               Hey, that's my--

Greg butts the Sheriff and they tumble back together onto
the desert floor.

The Sheriff's pistol flies off into the desert.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. HIGH BLUFF - DAY

The Big Man with the massive shoulders has a bolt-action 30-
06 balanced on the top of the pick up and is sighting down a
raised notch-sight.

                          BIG MAN
               What the hell!

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT FLOOR - DAY

Greg and the Sheriff rolling over and over toward the
arroyo.






Greg, still wearing the Sheriff's hat, jumps up and points
his cuffed hands at the Sheriff as if he were holding a
pistol.

The Sheriff smiles.

                          SHERIFF
               Bang!  Bang!  Is that it?

Greg glances up, under the Sheriff's hat, toward the bluffs.

                            GREG
               That's it.

The Sheriff, realizing too late, turns toward the bluff.

                          SHERIFF
               Nooo!

A fountain of blood spews from a wound in the Sheriff's head
as he goes down like a bag of rocks.

RIFLE SHOT off in the bg.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. HIGH BLUFF - DAY

The Big Man pulls the bolt back and an empty cartridge
RATTLES OFF the top of the truck.

He grabs his binoculars and takes a look.

                          BIG MAN
               Damn!

He shoves another round into the breech.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT FLOOR - DAY

Greg runs with a limp and dives for the cover of the
Sheriff's cruiser as a round rips into the fender.

RIFLE SHOT off in the distance.

Greg is up and limping around to the driver's side.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. SHERIFF'S CRUISER - DAY

Greg starts the car and heads out before he even has the
door closed.




GLASS BREAKS as a round rips through the right rear window
and buries itself in the back seat.

DOOR SLAMS on the cruiser as Greg does doughnuts in the
loose dirt.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. HIGH BLUFF - DAY

The Big Man looking through his binoculars.

                          BIG MAN
               Sonofabitch!

INSERT. The view through the binoculars - a cloud of dust
and nothing more.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. SHERIFF'S CRUISER - DAY

Greg cuts back the way they came using the dust cloud as
cover.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. SHERIFF'S CRUISER - DAY

Greg is sailing down the Interstate in the Sheriff's Cruiser
toward the Texas border.  He's still wearing the Sheriff's
cowboy hat.

CLOSE ON Greg's cuffed hands holding the bottom of the
steering wheel.

CAMERA PANS the other side of the Interstate as a New Mexico
Highway patrol car whizzes by.

The Officer inside raises a hand in salute.

Greg nods.

Greg searches in the rear view mirror.

INSERT. There in the rear view mirror the black and gold
Highway Patrol car keeps on getting smaller.

The CLICK, CLICK, CLICK of the blinker in the cruiser.

There's an old sign along the exit.

It reads:  "End-of-the-Trail sky diving.  Sam Kates and Son,
left under the Interstate at the end of the road."




                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. UNDERPASS - DAY

The Sheriff's cruiser makes the turn under the Interstate
and disappears up the road toward the mountains.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MEGAN'S HALLWAY - DAY

The Man, still with the bandages on his face, is walking
slowly down the hallway.  Dressed in blue jeans and a white
t-shirt, he's smoking a cigarette.

He's holding a stack of framed photographs that's he's
placing back on the wall where they belong.

Meg rounds the corner from the kitchen.

She plucks the cigarette from his lips and takes a drag.

He stops as he straightens one of the pictures.

INSERT. A picture - Meg and the boys having fun at the
beach.

                         MEG(O.S.)
               You took that.  We were in
          Galveston.

INSERT. A picture - the boys burying Greg in the sand.

                     MEG(O.S.) (CONT'D)
               The boys loved to bury you.  You
          pretended to hate it.  They laughed and
          laughed.

INSERT. A picture - Greg, holding the Youngest, as the older
boy runs with them into the ocean.

                        MEG (CONT'D)
               You taught them both to swim.

He takes the cigarette back from her.

INSERT. A picture - the four of them squinting into a
setting sun.

                            MAN
               Who took this one?

                            MEG
               Some old man on the pier.

CLOSE-UP of the Man as tears roll down his cheeks.





Megan kisses his tears and puts her head on his chest.

                        MEG (CONT'D)
               I love you.

He pulls her face away from his chest and looks at her.

                        MEG (CONT'D)
               What is it?

                            MAN
               What happens when you see my face
          and remember that it's me?  The man who
          killed your children.  Will you love me,
          then?

He reaches up to caress her face, but she backs away from
him and walks off down the hall.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. END-OF-THE-TRAIL SKY DIVING SCHOOL - DAY

ESTABLISHING SHOTS of the hanger where an old Piper Dakota
missing the right hand door sits back in the shade.

The Main office is covered in dirt and sand.

A windsock billowing listlessly in the noonday heat.

The short runway plays out away from the mountains toward
the Interstate that, from this distance, looks like a line
drawing.

The Sheriff's cruiser pulls up and comes to a stop.

Greg is out of the cruiser in a flash, carrying a shotgun.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. MAIN OFFICE DOOR - DAY

Greg blows the lock off the door and is inside before the
door has finished banging open.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MAIN OFFICE - DAY

Dust flies through the room.

Greg stands there with the shotgun trained on one corner of
the room.






There sits SAM KATES, 60's, in his desk chair with his pants
down around his ankles.  An astonished look is on his face.
His bare ass is hanging out the back of the chair and on the
desk are several Playboy centerfolds open to their three-
page height.

Sam looks down at his penis.

                            SAM
               It ain't loaded.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. HOSPITAL - DAY

Doctor, 50's, trim with a full moustache, the same one that
we originally saw with the Man, stands with scissors in his
hand.

The Man sits on a examining table.

Meg to one side.

The Doctor snips away at the bandages.

The Man cuts his eyes to Meg.

Meg looks away.

The SOUND OF THE MAN GETTING UP AND WALKING.

                         MAN(O.S.)
               How do I look?

Megan can't look at him.

                     MAN(O.S.) (CONT'D)
               Megan?

Meg turns in the direction of his voice.

She sees his back as he looks into the mirror.

Meg comes up behind him and we can see her in the mirror
looking at him.

A rather faint scar runs down his right cheek and disappears
under his jaw line.

The Doctor exits.

The Man stands there looking at Meg in the mirror.






                        MAN (CONT'D)
               Have I changed?  Do I look
          different?

She comes around in front of him, blocking his mirror image.

She reaches up from behind him and caresses the scar.

                            MEG
               A rose is a rose is a rose.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. END-OF-THE-TRAIL SKY DIVING SCHOOL - DAY

They're walking out toward the hanger where the Piper Dakota
sits in the cool shade.

A parachute is slung over Greg's shoulder as he keeps the
shotgun trained on the old man, Sam Kates.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. END-OF-THE-TRAIL SKY DIVING SCHOOL HANGER - DAY

Greg holds the shotgun to Sam's chest as Sam squeezes the
bolt cutters and SNAPS THE CUFFS off Greg's wrists.

Greg rubs his wrists.

                            SAM
               Are ya sure ya wanna do this?

                            GREG
               You don't even know what I'm going
          to do.

                            SAM
               Well, it ain't too difficult, son,
          even for an old jerk-off like me.  Ya
          got yourself arrested for something, I
          assume those prison pants ain't your
          idea of fashion, ya got away, and now--

Sam gestures to the parachute that lies at Greg's feet.

                        SAM (CONT'D)
               You're about to jump outta my
          aircraft and cause God knows what kinda
          havoc.

Sam points at the shotgun.

                        SAM (CONT'D)
               Is'at your only form of armament?






                            GREG
               What if it is?

                            SAM
               Ton of wind resistance.

                            GREG
               You got any weapons.

                            SAM
                         (blushing)
               The only gun I got, ya already
          seen.

Greg looks around the hanger.

In the far corner there's a work bench with a vice-grip.

LATER.

The shotgun is clamped in the vice-grip.

CAMERA MOVES BACK to reveal Sam sawing away on the barrel of
the shotgun.

                        SAM (CONT'D)
               Why do I hafta do the work!?

                            GREG
               It was either cut this off--

Greg points at the shotgun.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               Or cut that off.

Greg points at Sam's crotch.

Sam saws faster.

A LITTLE LATER.

Greg and Sam walking toward the aircraft.

                           GREG
               Are the tanks full?

Sam looks at Greg.

                            SAM
               How far ya plannin' on goin'?

                            GREG
               Just this side of Amarillo, little
          town called Wildorado--





                            SAM
               Weren't no jail you escaped from,
          was a mental institution!

A LITTLE LATER.

Sam has the nozzle of the gas pump hooked up the Piper
Dakota.

                        SAM (CONT'D)
               This little plane can't make it
          that far.

                            GREG
               It'll make it.

                            SAM
               If we don't get a head wind, if we
          don't run into weather, if the gods are
          willin' and if the creek don't rise.

                            GREG
               Like I said, it'll make it.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. END-OF-THE-TRAIL SKY DIVING SCHOOL RUNWAY - DAY

The Piper Dakota bounces to the end of the runway, skidders
around and sits facing the wind.

SOUND OF THE ENGINE REVVING in the bg.

Dakota begins its run down the tarmac.

Tail section comes up as it reaches speed.

Piper lifts off and banks hard to the left as it heads for
          Texas.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MEGAN ALLEN'S BEDROOM - AFTERNOON

From the PANTING and SIGHING it sounds as if everyone is in
sync here and that a mutual agreement as to when these
festivities will end is about to be reached.

That agreement is reached with a mutual MINI PRIMAL SCREAM.

Megan's face is streaked with tears as the orange hues of
the Texas sunset filter through the bamboo blinds.

A man's hand enters the frame and brushes away the tears.





TWO-SHOT of Megan and the Man as he, with a genuine look of
concern, looks into her eyes.

                            MAN
               Ya all right?

She reaches up, takes his hand and kisses it.

                            MEG
               Never better.

He smiles.
                            MAN
               Got to tell ya something.

She puts her index finger to his lips.

                            MEG
               Shhh.

He pulls her hand down.

                            MAN
               I gotta feeling that I never, ever
          had anything like this before.  Or if I
          did, I didn't know what I had.  Let's
          start over.  You're a young woman, to me
          a new woman, and to you, I'm like a new
          man.  Let's just live and love each
          other, what do ya say?

She smiles and we know what she's thinking, but before she
can speak--

DOOR BELL in the bg.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. MEGAN ALLEN'S HOUSE, WILDORADO, TEXAS - SUNSET

There stands Roger Westlin leaning on the door bell.

DOOR BELL SOUNDS in the bg.

Door jerks open.

The Man stands there in a bathrobe.

Roger smirks.

                           ROGER
               Catch you at a bad time?

Voice comes from behind the Man.





                         MEG(O.S.)
               Who is it, darling?

Roger's smirk becomes a lear.

                           ROGER
                         (to the Man)
               Like ridin' a bike, ain't it?

The Man says back over his shoulder.

                            MAN
               It's nobody.

Roger's smile disappears.

Roger's pokes his finger into the Man's chest.

                           ROGER
               You're gonna wish it was nobody.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. PIPER DAKOTA, SOMEWHERE OVER NEW MEXICO - SUNSET

With the door off, there's a LOT OF WIND NOISE and the men
have to SHOUT to be heard.

                            SAM
                         (pointing ahead of
               them)
               I don't like the looks of those.

About forty or fifty miles in front of them, their anvils
glaring with the resplendent sunset, are a line of
thunderheads.

Greg's face shows the reflection of those beautiful clouds.

                            GREG
               What's not to like.  They're
          beautiful.

                            SAM
               Take a look below us.

Greg looks out.

Below them is the highway.

                     SAM(O.S.) (CONT'D)
               That's Interstate 40.  Leads
          through Tucumcari and on into Texas and
          your Wildorado(he pronounces the word
          with a long "i" sound).






                            GREG
               That's Wildorado.(said with a short
          "i" sound)

                            SAM
               Not tonight it ain't!  I estimate
          those thunderheads to be right outside
          Wildorado(still said with the long "i"),
          stretching roughly fifty miles in either
          direction.

                            GREG
               So?

As Sam speaks the clouds roil and lightning streaks from
cloud to cloud and several powerful strikes to the ground.

                            SAM
               So!  So!  Those anvils peak out at
          about 35,000 - 50,000 feet, that's at
          least eight thousand feet higher than
          Mount Everest and way past the
          capabilities of this old Piper.

                            GREG
               Go around.

Sam taps the fuel gauge with his finger.

                            SAM
               Not enough fuel!

                            GREG
               Then, I guess we've got no choice.

Sam smiles.

                            SAM
               Turn around?

                            GREG
               No!  Through the middle!

Sam grabs the end of the sawed-off shotgun and places it
against his side.

                            SAM
               Go ahead and shoot me, partner,
          cause we'll never make it through those
          storms.

Greg pulls the sawed-off shotgun away from Sam's side.

Sam smiles again.




                        SAM (CONT'D)
               You're not the killer you'd like me
          to believe ya are!

                            GREG
               Get as close to Texas as you can.
          I'll bail out, and hitch hike the rest
          of the way in.

                            SAM
               You really wanna get to Texas bad,
          don't ya?

Greg nods in agreement.

                        SAM (CONT'D)
               Why?  Tell me why?

                            GREG
               You have any kids!?

Sam looks ahead to the thunderheads.

                            SAM
               A son, but he don't speak to me no
          more.  These things happen.

                            GREG
               I had two boys.

                            SAM
               We're gettin' close, better give me
          the Reader's Digest version.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. SUBURBAN HOME, DEN AREA - TWILIGHT

Roger Westlin sits on the sofa under the war paraphernalia,
insignia, etc. that belonged to Greg.

Across from him sits the Man and Megan.

Megan is dressed in a blue nightgown that is made from
several layers of sheer material.

Roger is staring at Megan.

                           ROGER
               They did nice work on your face.

                            MAN
               How would you know?  You ain't
          really looked at me.

Roger, almost blushing, looks at the Man.




                        MAN (CONT'D)
               Honey, why don't you go fix us some
          coffee.

Roger smiles.

                           ROGER
               I'll have some iced-tea like the
          last time I was here.

                            MAN
               Yeah, tea's fine.

Megan leaves the room.

The Man sits forward in his chair.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               You're a real asshole, aren't ya?

Roger sort of scoots back into the couch.

                           ROGER
               Let me speak plainly here.  You've
          committed a crime by leaving the State
          of Texas.  There's public record on
          that.  But, you'd be surprised how much
          of that record can fall between the
          cracks.  So far, I'm the only one who
          knows.  All that can change real quick.

The Man stands up and starts looking over the war
paraphernalia on the wall behind Roger.

                            MAN
               You see all these metals?  Christ!
          A bronze star, purple heart--

His hand goes to the scar on his face.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               I wonder where he was wounded?

Roger turns his head, looking up at the Man.

                           ROGER
               You said, "he".

                            MAN
               Did I?  Well, I sure can't remember
          Vietnam, not one minute of it.  Guess
          that's a blessing, isn't it?

Roger stands and puts his face very close to the Man's face.




                           ROGER
               You are going to jail, unless I
          decide you're not.  If someone who is
          close to you, and looking so good
          tonight, is nice to me, then guess what?
          You don't go.  Otherwise, you're off to
          jail and I have to do my part to keep
          what's left of the family happy.  I'd
          say I was in a win/win situation
          wouldn't you, war hero?

The Man's features hardened into stone.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. MEGAN'S KITCHEN - TWILIGHT

Megan drops a tray of ice into a large tea pitcher.

BUMPING SOUNDS from the next room.

Megan stops and listens.

                            MEG
               Everything all right in there?
          Honey?

There's no answer from the den.

She shrugs and goes back to making the tea.

                                        o retrieve the car.


INT. SUBURBAN HOME, DEN AREA - TWILIGHT

Megan comes in carrying a tray with three iced teas on it.

She sets a glass down beside Roger Westlin, who appears to
be looking at something in his lap.

The Man takes a glass and downs the tea in one gulp.

                            MAN    Good tea.

Megan stands there looking at Westlin.

                            MEG
               Mr. Westlin?

She reaches out and touches him on the shoulder.

Roger tumbles off the couch and onto the floor.

Megan GASPS.






                        MEG (CONT'D)
               How?  What happened?

CLOSE UP of the Man.

                            MAN
               In a win/win situation, he lost.

The Man grabs Megan by the arms.  She tries to pull away,
but he holds her there.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               While I was choking him, I kept
          thinking of this big, bald guy.  It was
          him I was angry at, he made me do
          something bad--

He's squeezing her arms tighter and tighter.

                            MEG
               You're hurting me!

He lets her go.

                            MAN
               Sorry.

Flash of lightning outside, CRACK of THUNDER, SOUND of RAIN.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               I guess we'd better call the
          police.

Megan is looking out the den windows.

In the next flash of lightning, CRACK of THUNDER, she sees
the new rose garden sitting half-tilled.

Megan lifts up the Man's chin so that she can see into his
eyes.

                            MEG
               We'll have to be put things in
          order, we'll have to.

The Man smiles weakly, picks up the cordless sitting there
on the table, turns it on - DIAL TONE - and hands it to her.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. PIPER DAKOTA - TWILIGHT

The small plane is being buffeted by high winds and RAIN -
lots of rain!

                                                     CUT TO:





INT. PIPER DAKOTA - TWILIGHT

Sam grapples with the yoke as the small aircraft gets
bounced around.

                            GREG
               So, what have you decided?  Am I
          bailing out here, or are we going on
          together!?

Sam motions to the front of the plane.

There through the windshield can be seen the nearest of the
thunderheads dead ahead.

                            SAM
               I wouldn't be flyin' into this
          killer storm if I didn't believe ya,
          son.

Huge bounce as Greg is nearly thrown from the aircraft.

                        SAM (CONT'D)
               You'd better strap yourself in.

Greg climbs to the co-pilot's seat and belts himself in.

Sam reaches up and fondles a small rabbit's foot that
dangles from the headliner of the aircraft.

                        SAM (CONT'D)
               In a situation like this, you can
          forget these fuckin' instruments.  The
          rabbit's foot's the only way to go.

Greg looks like he just enlisted the help of a complete
idiot.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. MEGAN ALLEN'S HOME, WILDORADO - NIGHT

CLOSE UP of Megan's face as she is straining in the RAIN.

RAIN BEATS hard on her face as she walks backward.

CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal that she's DRAGGING THE BODY of
Roger Westlin out the sliding patio doors, through the grape
arbor and onto the lawn.

SOUND OF SOMEONE SHOVELING.

The Man stands in a shallow grave in the middle of Megan's
new rose garden.

He stops shoveling, jumps out, slipping in the mud as he
makes his way to Megan.




                            MAN
               What are you doin'?

Megan lets go of the Roger's feet and stands up.

                            MEG
               You looked busy in the garden.  I
          thought I'd bring out the garbage.

Man grabs a hold of her.

                            MAN
               Go back inside and stay dry.

She pulls a curl of wet hair off her forehead.

She looks at the hole he's been digging.

                       MAN (CONT'D)     I'll have to go
deeper.  We don't want
any strays digging this asshole up.

Megan smiles.

                            MEG
               First thing tomorrow morning I'm
          closing the new bank account and we're
          outta here!  Now, help me.

The Man smiles.

Megan picks up one of Roger's legs, the Man picks up the
other one as they drag him toward the hole.

                            MAN
               You must really love me.

Flash of lightning, CRACK of THUNDER.

Megan yelling over the rolling thunder.

                            MEG
               You've come back from the dead, and
          I'll be damned if I'm going to let
          anyone take you from me.

They roll Roger into the grave and fall into an embrace.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. PIPER DAKOTA - NIGHT

Lightning is flashing all around them.

RAIN BEATS on the small plane.




TWO-SHOT of Greg and Sam as they plummet through the up and
down drafts.

ROAR OF THE ENGINE as the plane does a roll and goes into a
dive.

DIVE SOUNDS.

Sam SCREAMING.

                            SAM
               Jesus eating a can of beans!

Sam wrestling with the yoke and pumping the rudders for dear
life.

Sam pulls them out of the dive.

                            GREG
               We made it.

Sam reaches up.

                            SAM
               Not yet.

Sam flicks the rabbit's foot that's rolling around on the
ceiling of the aircraft.

Greg looking in disbelief at the rabbit's foot.

                        SAM (CONT'D)
               We're flying upside down.

                            GREG
               Are ya sure!?

Sam gives the yoke a twist, ENGINE SOUNDS as the plane
rights itself.

The rabbit's foot now dangles from the ceiling.

                            SAM
               Positive!

HAIL BEATING ON THE PLANE.

ENGINE STARTS TO SPUTTER.

Greg looks out the side window.

Hail is POUNDING THE SHIT out of the wing on his side.

The entire plane is reacting like a vibrating bed.





ENGINE SPUTTERING SOUND GROWS WORSE.

                            SAM
                         (vibration in his
               voice)
               Get ready to bail-out!

                            GREG
                         (vibrating voice)
               We'll be beat to death.

ENGINE SPUTTERING.

THE HAIL BEATING THE PLANE TO DEATH.

PLANE DESCENDING SOUND.

Sam is out of his seat and over to the side door.

                            SAM
               Suit yourself.  I'm outta here.

Sam jumps out with one arm over his head and his hand on the
rip cord.

Greg is right behind him.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. FALLING SHOT - NIGHT

Greg and Sam falling together, being pummeled by the wind
and hail.

DRONING SOUND OF THE PLANE GOING DOWN in the bg.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. MEG ALLEN'S BACK YARD - NIGHT

HAIL STARTS BOUNCING off the lawn.

Megan and the Man YELLING/SCREAMING as they run in out of
the hail.

The Man stands there in the sliding-glass doorway that leads
from the patio.

He lights a cigarette.

                         MEG(O.S.)
               What is it?

                            MAN
               Listen.





Off in the distance the SOUND OF A PLANE GOING DOWN, then
the SOUND OF THE PLANE CRASHING.

                            MEG
               A plane crash?

                            MAN
               Yeah, damn!  What a night.

Megan smiles as she takes the cigarette and drags on it.

                            MEG
               Just your average night in
          Wildorado.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. A FIELD, SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE WILDORADO - NIGHT

The wreckage of the plane burns in the foreground.

Off in the distance two chutes, lit up by the flames, are
traveling toward the earth.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. OFF ROUTE 385, SOUTH OF WILDORADO - NIGHT

Sam hits the ground, gets tangled in his shroud lines and
dragged.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. ABOVE ROUTE 385, SOUTH OF WILDORADO - NIGHT

Greg is coming in over the highway.  We can see the wreckage
burning brightly one field over.

Greg sees Sam being pulled by his chute.

Greg angles his descent to intercept Sam's path.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. OFF ROUTE 385, SOUTH OF WILDORADO - NIGHT

Sam's YELLING as he's pulled along wrapped up in his
parachute.

CAMERA MOVES BACK to reveal Greg flying in wielding the
sawed-off shotgun.

Greg BLASTS the tangled shroud lines as he passes over Sam.

Sam is cut loose from the dragging chute.





Greg hits the ground, flips his quick-release hook, and judo
rolls to a standing position.

Sam thrashes about under his chute.

Greg pulls Sam out.

                            GREG
               Come on, old timer, we gotta get
          outta here.

SIRENS in the bg.

LONG SHOT down Route 385 as Emergency vehicles and
ambulances makes their way toward the crash site.

Greg helping Sam as they move away from the crash site and
the Emergency vehicles.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. MEGAN ALLEN'S BACK YARD - NIGHT

The RAIN HAS STOPPED.

The Man is covered in mud as he fills in the grave over
Roger Westlin.

WET SOUNDS OF HIM SHOVELING in the bg.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. SIDE OF MEGAN ALLEN'S HOUSE - NIGHT

Sam and Greg stand beside the six-foot redwood fence that
surrounds the back yard.

SHOVELING SOUNDS in the bg.

                            SAM
               Somebody's--

Greg's hand covering Sam's mouth and nodding his head in
agreement.

Greg motions that he's going to climb the fence and take a
look-see.

Greg motions that Sam should stay put.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. MEG ALLEN'S BACK YARD - NIGHT

Greg makes his way over the fence.



Greg sneaks to the corner of the house and peaks.

There stands the Man filling in the grave.

Greg steps away from the house and brandishes the sawed-off
shotgun.

                            GREG
               What are you doing here!?

The Man can't believe his eyes.

                            MAN
               Greg?!

Greg moving toward the shallow grave with hysteria in his
eyes.

                            GREG
               Why are you digging?  Where's my
          wife?

                            MAN
               I can explain everything.

                            GREG
               Drop the shovel.

The Man drops the shovel and moves away from the grave.

Greg picks up the shovel and heaves it out of harms way.

Greg walks up beside the grave.

He looks down into it.

At the bottom of the grave he can see human shape covered in
mud.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               Baby!  Oh my God, my baby!

Greg drops the sawed-off shotgun and starts pulling the dirt
and mud away from the body.

The Man reaches down and picks up the sawed-off shotgun.

Greg pulls the body to a sitting position and frantically
wipes the mud from the face.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               Roger?

The Man trains the sawed-off shotgun on Greg.

                            MAN
               A man of infinite jest.




Greg lets go of Roger's body and stands up in the grave.

Megan steps from the house, Roger's .32 calibre Smith and
Wesson in her hands.

                            MEG
               Drop the gun!

Megan is pointing the gun at the Man.

                            MAN
               Honey, no, it's me.

                            MEG
               Yeah, I know who's who.  Now drop
          it.

                            MAN
               You're making a mistake--

She COCKS the PIECE.

The Man drops the shotgun.

                            MEG    There have been mistakes
made.  I'll
grant you that, but I'm not sure this is one of them.

Greg starts to climb from the grave.

                            GREG
               Keep an eye on him, honey.  He's
          dangerous!

Megan points the gun at Greg.

                            MEG
               You stay right where you are!

                            MAN
               That's my baby!

                            GREG
               Shut-up!

                            MEG
               There's a question I need answered
          before I decide who's the next one shot.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. BEHIND THE CORNER OF THE HOUSE - NIGHT

Sam has climbed the fence and is looking around the corner.





There stands a woman with a gun pointed at Greg.  He can't
see the Man who's standing further back.

                            GREG
               Honey, please, don't shoot me.

Sam looks down.

The shovel is laying at his feet.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. MEGAN'S BACK YARD - NIGHT

Sam leaps from behind the house wielding the shovel.

                          MAN/GREG
               Darling!

Sam WHACKS Megan in the back of the head with the shovel.

The gun goes flying as Megan's legs buckle and she falls
face first in the yard.

                            SAM
               I got her!  Greg, I got her!

Sam looks up, now realizing there are two men standing there
who look pretty much the same.

He looks between the men.

                        SAM (CONT'D)
               Greg?

The Man reaches for the sawed-off shotgun.

Greg picks up the .32 Smith and Wesson that Megan dropped.

Both men start FIRING AT SAM.

Sam dances there as holes are blown in him and exit wounds
disgorge large amounts of tissue and blood.

Both men don't give Sam a second thought as they're over
beside Megan.

Greg turns Megan over.

Greg and the Man wiping her face off.

                            GREG
               Honey!?






                            MAN
               Darling!?

Both men exchange a brief hard look, then Megan MOANS.

She looks from man to man and smiles.

                            MEG
                         (labored breathing,
               but smiling)
               Whose crazy idea ... was this ...
          anyway?

Both men point to one another.

                          MAN/GREG
               His!

Megan smiles.

                            MEG
               Now that we've got that cleared up.

Megan's head rocks back, but her eyes stay open.  She dies.

They both reach up to her face.  Each one closing one of her
eyes.

                            MAN
               I shoulda been you.

                            GREG
               From the looks of things, you were.

                            MAN
               It was nice ... she ... was nice.

Greg looks at Megan.

                            GREG
               She never forgave me for--

                            MAN
               You never forgave yourself!

                            GREG
               That's what she always said.

The Man grabs Greg.

                            MAN
               It's like dancing, asshole.  You
          lead, they follow.






                            GREG
               I'm in some trouble.

                            MAN
               Don't look at me.

He looks around at the three bodies.

                        MAN (CONT'D)
               I'm up to my knees in bodies here.

                            GREG
               You gotta come back to New Mexico--

The Man lets go of Greg and raises the shotgun toward him.

                            MAN
               Right!

Greg points the .32 calibre Smith and Wesson at the Man.

                            GREG
               I'm not standing trial for a murder
          I didn't commit!

                            MAN
               You didn't commit it!

                                   GREG
               I know that!

                            MAN
               No, I mean, I remembered when I was
          choking the shit outta your parole
          officer--

                            GREG
               By the way, thanks.

                            MAN
               Don't mention it.  I remembered
          they forced me to cut that bum's face
          off.  Next thing I know I'm armed and
          walking the highway with all that cash.

                            GREG
               They think you murdered Harvey
          Trotting Horse.

                            MAN
               Harvey's alive.  He and Suzanne
          planned this whole thing to dodge the
          IRS.






                            GREG
               So, come back with me, you really
          haven't killed anyone.

SIRENS in the bg.

                            MAN
               Not until now, but hey, triple
          murder/suicide, you'll be blamed for the
          whole thing.

Their eyes meet.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT.  THE ALLEN FRONT YARD - NIGHT

SHOTGUN & .32 CALIBRE SMITH & WESSON BEING DISCHARGED
SIMULTANEOUSLY.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. VISION QUEST LODGE - DAY

ESTABLISHING SHOTS of the Vision Quest Property.

WIND BLOWS trash and old newspapers over the parking lot
which is empty.

Down the trail that leads from the Mountain walks a COWBOY,
dressed in blue jeans and work shirt, straw cowboy hat with
long, blond hair jutting out from under it, worn old cowboy
boots on his feet.

The brim of his hat is pulled down to is eyes.  A blond
moustache nearly covers his mouth.  He carries a leather bag
with a shoulder strap.

Cowboy walks around the big cabin, pauses at Suzanne's
window and, cupping his hands against the glass, peers in.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. VISION QUEST PROPERTY - DAY

Cowboy walking away from the Cabin toward the main highway.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. LUNA, NEW MEXICO - SUNDOWN

ESTABLISHING SHOTS of the two-lane blacktop that leads into
Luna, New Mexico.

The setting sun reflecting off the City limits sign, Rotary
sign, Lions Club, Masons.




The Cowboy's walking past those signs.

The WIND BLOWS and the Cowboy turns his head to the side.

A Sheriff's car rolls by.

CLOSE UP of the Cowboy's eyes--

CLOSE UP of the Deputy's eyes as they turn and see the
Cowboy.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. LUNA JAIL - SUNDOWN

Deputy's car pulls up in a cloud of sand and dust.

Deputy jumps out.  He's so excited he knocks his own hat
off.

Deputy pulling the Cowboy, now handcuffed, from the back of
the vehicle.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. LUNA JAIL - SUNDOWN

Deputy comes in with the Cowboy in tow.

There in the last cell sits Jonathan Winks-a-lot.

Jonathan takes a good look at the Cowboy.

Deputy takes the cuffs off the Cowboy and pushes him into
the open cell.

CELL DOOR SLAMS/LOCKS.

Deputy leaves the cell area.

Jonathan doesn't even look at the Cowboy when he says this.

                          JONATHAN
               Where you been?

The Cowboy takes off his hat and looks directly into the
camera.

It's either Greg or the Man, but with the moustache covering
the mouth and part of the jaw, it's hard to tell.

                          COWBOY
               What are you doin' here?






                          JONATHAN
               Hangin' out.

                           COWBOY
               Uh huh.

                          JONATHAN
               Beats hangin'.

                           COWBOY
               They got to charge you with
          somethin', hoss.  This is America.

                          JONATHAN
               Oh yeah, almost forgot, "Land of
          the Free, x-home of the Braves".  I'll
          get out.  Meantime, the food's gotten
          better since the new Sheriff took over.
          Why'd ya come back?

                           COWBOY
               No reason, I guess.

                          JONATHAN
               Best "no reason" I know is pussy.

                           COWBOY
               It's all closed up out there.

                          JONATHAN
               Sheriff Newland's body wasn't even
          warm before Suzanne, the money and
          Harvey were making tracks for the
          border.

                           COWBOY
               Then you know.

                          JONATHAN
               Suspected.

                           COWBOY
               Do you think we could convince them
          I didn't kill Harvey, or maybe that
          Harvey wasn't really Harvey.

                          JONATHAN
               It's not about that now.  It's more
          about the murder of Sheriff Newland.
          They need a volunteer to even the score,
          and from the looks of things, you just
          volunteered.

SOME TIME LATER.

Jonathan is asleep on his bunk.




The Cowboy sleeps on his bunk.

A hand enters the frame and shakes the Cowboy.

The Cowboy's eyes open.

                     SITTING BULL(O.S.)
                         (whispering)
               Chief Charlie Horse ... you ready?

Cowboy sits up.

There stands Sitting Bull in full regalia, war paint,
feathers, headdress.

                           COWBOY
               Sitting--

Sitting Bull's hand covers the Cowboy's mouth.

Sitting Bull pulls the Cowboy's hair down to its full
length.

                        SITTING BULL
                         (whispering)
               Yellow Hair.  Back to your old
          ways, that's good.

Sitting Bull puts his arm around the Cowboy's shoulder,
pulls him close and looks directly into the camera.

                   SITTING BULL (CONT'D)
                         (whispering)
               Why is it, there's never a camera
          around for those real Kodak moments!?

                           COWBOY
                         (whispering)
               Are we going back?

                        SITTING BULL
                         (whispering)
               Oh yes, we're going back, General,
          all the way back.

Swirling smoke fills the room as they disappear in a fog.

                SITTING BULL(O.S.) (CONT'D)
               Back to the greatest defeat of your
          whole life.

                        COWBOY(O.S.)
               What if I win this time?

                                                     CUT TO:




EXT. OPEN HIGHWAY - NIGHT

The smoke/fog is blown away by a passing car.

Sitting Bull is still dressed in full battle regalia.

The Cowboy is now dressed in buckskins with Seventh Cavalry
Insignia just as George Armstrong Custer would have been in
1876.

Cowboy feeling his clothes.

                        SITTING BULL
               That's much better, don't you
          think?  Now you look like the General
          that makes last stands.

They start walking down the road.

Cowboy reaches out and touches Sitting Bull's arm.

                           COWBOY
               Before we go back there's one stop
          I need to make.

                        SITTING BULL
               No.  We're tampering as it is, and-
          -

                           COWBOY
               And what!?  What are we tampering
          with,  huh!?  The Manifest Destiny that
          obliterated 200 Native American cultures
          so that we can microwave a hot dog in
          thirty seconds!?

                        SITTING BULL
               We can make one stop on the way
          back.  You want this to be your one?
          It's up to you.

Cowboy nods his head, "yes".

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. VISION QUEST SIGHT - NIGHT

ESTABLISHING SHOTS of the big cabin all lit up.  There's
some sort of party going on inside.

Through the windows in the main cabin we can see revelers
dancing, drinking, eating.

Sitting Bull and the Cowboy walk up the dirt road past the
parking lot.




                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. OUTSIDE SUZANNE'S WINDOW - NIGHT

Cowboy jimmies the window and crawls inside.  Sitting Bull
follows him.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. SUZANNE'S ROOM, MAIN CABIN - DAY

The Cowboy is over by the closet.

He opens the closet and searches for something.

He takes out a hanger and straightens the coat that hangs on
it.

                        SITTING BULL
               Forget your dry cleaning?

                           COWBOY
               Not exactly.

Cowboy finds some paper and a pen on the desk near the
closet.

He scribbles a quick note.

                        SITTING BULL
               Love letter?

                           COWBOY
               Sort of.

He RIPS the note paper off and puts it in one of the outside
pockets of the coat.

The Cowboy pats the pocket.

                        SITTING BULL
               Someone's coming.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. OPEN HIGHWAY - NIGHT

Fog swirling around Sitting Bull and the Cowboy.

Another car passes.

It begins to rain.

Up ahead the lights of the Rendezvous glare through the mist
and rain.




The Cowboy stops and looks at the lights.

Sitting Bull looks at the Cowboy and smiles.

                           COWBOY
               I thought you said I could only
          make one stop?!

Sitting Bull straightens the buckskin jacket on the Cowboy,
and cocks the hat to one side a little.

                        SITTING BULL
               That wasn't a stop.  Was that a
          stop?

                           COWBOY
               I can change it, can't I?

                        SITTING BULL
               Remember, a great defeat can also
          be a great victory.

Cowboy looks confused, not sure.

                           COWBOY
               Sure, but how will I?  I mean--

Sitting Bull holds out his hand with something in it.

The Cowboy holds out his hand.

Sitting Bull drops a set of car keys into the Cowboy's hand.

                        SITTING BULL
               Hurry, he'll miss them soon.

                           COWBOY
               But after I get away, save the
          kids, there'll be two of us, two Gregs--

                        SITTING BULL
               Don't worry, when you take a
          different path, even to the same
          destination, you take a different
          journey.

                           COWBOY
               I don't understand.

                        SITTING BULL
               You will.

Cowboy starts to walk away, but turns and embraces Sitting
Bull.

                   SITTING BULL (CONT'D)
               I'm glad Crazy Horse wasn't here to
          see that.



                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. RENDEZVOUS PARKING LOT - NIGHT

The Cowboy runs to the car and looks inside.

There are the two boys sound asleep.

He opens the door softly, gets in, puts his seat belt on and
STARTS THE CAR.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. RENDEZVOUS - NIGHT

Greg looks out the window just in time to see his car
backing out of the parking space.

Greg turns to the patrons in the bar.

                            GREG
                         (yelling)
               Somebody's stealing my car!

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. RENDEZVOUS PARKING LOT - NIGHT

Greg running from the bar followed by a dozen or so patrons
wearing Cowboy hats, some are wielding handguns, some
pulling rifles from their trucks.

Greg and fellow patrons into the middle of the parking lot,
as the patrons UNLOAD at the fleeing car.

Greg runs in front of the men shooting, his arms
outstretched.

                            GREG
               No!  No!  Don't shoot!

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. SPEEDING CAR - NIGHT

One of the tires on the car BLOWS.

Car swerves out of control.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. LITTLE BIG HORN, DAKOTA TERRITORY - DAY

CLOSE UP of Greg, as Custer, dressed in the buckskins, as he
looks up into the CAMERA, he now has a blond moustache and
long blond hair.  His arms are still outstretched.




                       GENERAL CUSTER
               Don't shoot!  Those are my children
          out there!

It's the final moments of the defeat at the Little Big Horn.

Custer's men have shot all their horses and have them
surrounding Custer.

The patrons of the Rendezvous have been transformed into
members of the 7th Cavalry.

Custer turns from his men and sees all the attacking
Indians.

Custer raises his arms to the Indians.

                  GENERAL CUSTER (CONT'D)
               My children!

Everyone seems frozen in time, till an arrow implants itself
into the chest of one of Custer's men, then the rest of the
men raise their weapons and continue FIRING.

Custer pulls his pistol from its holster and throws it away.

An arrow SWOOPS into Custer's side.

CLOSE ON Custer as all the YELLING, SCREAMING IN PAIN, WAR
WHOOPS, and confusion drop away.

Custer looking around in the silence.  He's looking for
someone.

He sees him!

There riding bareback is Sitting Bull with his bow pointed
at Custer.

Custer standing there, smiling, opening his arms to his
fate, LAUGHING, welcoming his death, understanding his final
lesson.

                       GENERAL CUSTER
                         (mouthing the words)
               My children.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. GREG'S CAR - NIGHT

Greg, now without the moustache and dressed in his regular
clothes is trying to keep the car under control.

                                                     CUT TO:




EXT. OPEN HIGHWAY - NIGHT

In the rain the car finally careens off the left hand side
of the road, then up the other embankment rocketing into the
sky.

The car twists in mid-air, but no one falls out.

The car hits the ground and rolls over and over.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. GREG'S CAR - NIGHT

The world is a blur of GRINDING METAL, SHATTERING GLASS, and
SCREAMS.

The car finally comes to a rest upside down.

Greg looking around to see his sons.

Jordan is CRYING in the back seat.

Bobby is wide-eyed.

                           Bobby
               Let's do it, again, daddy!

Greg laughing as he gets Bobby unbuckled from his seat belt.

                            GREG
               I think we just did!

Greg SNIFFING THE AIR.

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. CAR WRECK - NIGHT

Gasoline is dripping down the torn gas tank and moving
toward the steaming exhaust system.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. WRECKED CAR - NIGHT

Greg twisting around with a grimace.

He looks down.

His foot is caught, crushed beneath the clutch pedal.

                            GREG
               Get your little brother out.  Go on
          get him out.




Bobby crawls to the back of the car.

FLAMES ERUPTING OUTSIDE THE CAR!

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               Go on!  That's it.

Bobby has Jordan out of the car seat.  They're crawling
around on the ceiling.

                       GREG (CONT'D)
               Now, both of you, out of here!

                           BOBBY
               But daddy-

                            GREG
                         (screaming)
               GET OUT!  NOW!

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. CAR WRECK - NIGHT

Other patrons from the bar are running toward the wreck.
The two boys scramble from the wreck.

Some women grab them and pull them away from the burning
car.

Both boys are CRYING.

Greg waves to them.

                            GREG
                         (shouting)
               I love--

HUGE EXPLOSION as the car becomes an inferno.

                                                   FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY - EARLY MORNING

MAN, late forties, good looking, freshly shaven face, long
hair blowing in the wind, dressed in a suit, is walking
"with the traffic" along the highway.

Highway is empty.

He puts his hand to his forehead touching the fresh gash
above his left eye.  He winces from the tenderness of the
spot.




The Man turns and looks down the highway.

A large truck in the distance coming down the highway in his
direction.

The Man is walking faster, on the edge of the road itself
this time.

SEMI HORN as it BLASTS.

The semi passes him, his hair flying wildly about, his suit
flapping in the wind.

The Man turns his head and looks behind him again.

A car is approaching.

He puts his hands in his pockets and continues walking.

He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket.

He stops.

He reads the note.

He looks at the position of the sun on the horizon.

He waits for the car to pass, then crosses to the other side
of the road.

Now he's walking in the other direction, toward Texas.

He turns, sees a vehicle and puts his thumb out.

An old red truck passes him, then the brake lights come on.

The Man runs to the truck, gets in and shuts the door.

CLOSE UP of the door of the truck where it reads:  END-OF-
THE-TRAIL SKY DIVING SCHOOL, Sam Kates & Son, Owners.

                                                     CUT TO:

INT. OLD RED TRUCK - EARLY MORNING

Sam pulls the truck back out on the highway.

                            SAM
               Where ya headed, son?

The Man looks at the piece of paper.

                            MAN
               There's just an address here, some
          street in Wildorado, Texas.




                            SAM
                         (saying it with a
               long "i")
               Wildorado!

                            MAN
               Is that the way you say it?

                            SAM
               That's the way ya say it!

                                                     CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY - EARLY MORNING

CAMERA MOVES UP & AWAY from the red truck as it disappears
down the highway toward Texas.

ROLL CREDITS.

                            End


Comments on this script? E-Mail Jack Harris-Bonham


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