A Nightmare on Elm Street Page #21

NANCY turns in the doorway.

NANCY:

That's enough!

On the door SLAM, we

CUT TO:

121. EXT. SHAKESPEARE BRIDGE. DAY. 121.

ANGLE ON A NEIGHBORHOOD STREET. We hear GLEN's VOICE and PAN UP

to REVEAL NANCY and GLEN high above, two tiny figures walking

across this strange white bridge in old Los Angeles. CAMERA

BEGINS A SLOW ZOOM.

GLEN:

Whenever I get nervous I eat.

NANCY:

And if you can't do that, you

sleep.

GLEN:

Used to. Not anymore.

GLEN jams more Big Mack into his face. By now our ZOOM reveals

he's attacking a huge bag of Big Macks, and furtively eyeing

NANCY. The girl's hair is startlingly white in the sunlight.

She's reading a book, hardly paying attention.

GLEN (CONTD)

You ever read about the Balinese

way of dreaming?

NANCY:

No.

GLEN:

They got a whole system they

call 'dream skills'. So, if

you have a nightmare, for

instance like falling, right?

NANCY:

Yeah.

GLEN:

Instead of screaming and getting

nuts, you say, okay, I'm gonna

make up my mind that I fall

into a magic world where I can

get something special, like a

poem or song.

(grins hopefully)

They get all their art literature

from dreams. Just wake up and

write it down. Dreamskills.

He stops, seeing the look on NANCY's face. Our ZOOM is much

closer now, a wide medium, and still coming in on the kids.

NANCY:

And what if they meet a monster

in their dream? Then what?

GLEN:

They turn their back on it.

(grins hopefully)

Takes away its energy, and

it disappears.

NANCY:

What happens if they don't do

that?

GLEN:

(shrugs)

I guess those people don't

wake up to tell what happens.

NANCY:

Great.

She leans over the railing, poking her face back into her book.

GLEN tips its cover and reads its title. OUR ZOOM IS STILL

MOVING CLOSER, a MEDIUM CLOSE UP NOW.

GLEN:

'Booby Traps and Improvised

Anti-personel Devices'!

NANCY:

I found it at this neat

survivalist bookstore on

Ventura.

GLEN:

(shocked)

Well what you reading it for?

OUR ZOOM LOCKS IN ON A TIGHT TWO ON THEIR FACES, NANCY's grimly

determined.

NANCY:

I'm into survival.

She walks away, OUT OF FRAME, leaving GLEN watching after her in

astonishment.

GLEN:

She's starting to scare the

living sh*t out of me.

122. EXT. ELM STREET/NANCY'S HOME/EVENING 122.

ANGLE ACROSS NANCY'S "TREE LAWN", the grass between

the sidewalk and the street, in the general direction

of GLEN's home. This ANGLE doesn't quite reveal

Nancy's house.

FOREGROUND is a utility truck in which a half dozen

Hispanic WORKERS are loading tools, extension cords

and hardware. They

look like they've put in one hell of a hard day's work.

MARGE appears and hands a check to the FOREMAN of the crew, a

white guy in clean coveralls and a gold chain. He scrutinizes

it.

FOREMAN:

And the other...

MARGE forks over a wad of cash, hands trembling in her

half-drunk, helpless rage.

MARGE:

Where's your mask and gun?

The FOREMAN counts the money swiftly.

FOREMAN:

Don't bust my chops, lady.

If the city found out I put

'em in without inside releases

I'd loose my license.

He shoves the money in his pocket and climbs in his truck. MARGE

EXITS FRAME for her house.

PAN WITH THE TRUCK as it pulls away, THEN PICK UP NANCY, walking

across the street from the corner. Alone. Dispirited. She

lifts her eyes to her home and stops in her tracks.

NANCY:

Oh gross...

123. WIDENING TO REVEAL THE HOUSE as NANCY walks across her front 123.

yard. Every single window has been covered with brand-new

ornamental iron bars, bolted deeply into their frames.

CLOSER, AT A WINDOW. NANCY gives a set of bars a powerful

shake. They don't budge. Then girl looks up and sees even the

window to her second floor bedroom is barred. And the rose

trellis has been ripped down and heaped at the foundation in a

tangle of wood, thorns and broken flowers.

124. INT. MARGE'S ROOM. EVENING. 124.

ANGLE ON THE DOORWAY INTO THE HALL. Easy listening MUSIC wafts

through the air. NANCY appears in the doorway.

NANCY (OS)

Mom, what's with the bars!?

125. REVERSE to MARGE, propped against the headboard of her bed, a 125.

crooked shadow in the gloom. A fresh bottle of Gin glints in her

hand.

NANCY:

Oh, Mom...

The girl crosses and reaches gently for the bottle. MARGE

snatches it away.

MARGE:

'S'mine...

She rocks the bottle in her arms.

NANCY:

What's with the bars?

Rate this script:3.7 / 3 votes