A Nightmare on Elm Street Page #24

LT THOMPSON:

Can't sleep, thought I'd come

break up the poker game.

The COP laughs and goes his way. THOMPSON's smile evaporates.

133. INT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 133.

THOMPSON enters and checks the log. Nearby, SGT GARCIA pours

coffee.

SERGEANT GARCIA:

If it was any more quiet we

could hear owls farting.

LT THOMPSON:

Is quiet, isn't it?

SERGEANT GARCIA:

(too casually)

How's your girl?

THOMPSON looks at the Desk sergeant a moment, then tosses down

the log.

LT THOMPSON:

She's sensible. She'll sleep

sooner or later.

134. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 134.

The neighborhood is utterly still, most of the homes already

dark. But not NANCY's. Or GLEN's.

ZOOM TO GLEN'S LIGHTED LIVING ROOM WINDOW.

135. INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 135.

GLEN's father watches eleven o'clocks news, a dreary FILM CLIP

(STOCK) of war and refugees in a far-away land.

MR LANTZ takes a pull on his Bud.

MR LANTZ:

You'd think they'd have some-

thing 'bout the Lane kid hanging

himself.

MRS LANTZ walks through the room, drying her hands on a

dishtowel.

MRS LANTZ:

Maybe we're all making more out

of it than we should.

She heads upstairs. MR LANTZ pops the automatic tuner. CARSON

blinks ON.

CARSON (TV)

I wouldn't touch that line with

a ten foot pole.

ED MCMAHON and the AUDIENCE laugh in delight.

136. INT. GLEN'S HOUSE/UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR. NIGHT. 136.

MRS LANTZ comes along the upstairs hall and knocks gently at a

closed door.

MRS LANTZ:

Glen? you all right?

She puts her ear to the door and listens.

MRS LANTZ (CONTD)

Glen honey?

No answer.

137. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 137.

GLEN lies sprawled across the bed, long legs flung over the end,

head not visible.

His mother enters. She looks at the boy, turns off the TV.

Looks at him again.

From this angle she can see his head, earphones crammed over it

rasping their tinny noise. But no movement from the kid at all.

MRS LANTZ crosses and pokes him in the ribs. GLEN lurches up,

arms windmilling.

GLEN:

Whuu?

He refocuses his eyes, takes off his earphones.

MRS LANTZ:

How can you listen to Carson and

a record at the same time?

GLEN swings his legs over the edge of the bed and shakes his head

to clear the cobwebs.

GLEN:

Wasn't listening to the tube,

just watching. Miss Nude

America's supposed to be on

tonight.

MRS LANTZ:

Well how you gonna hear what

she says?

GLEN:

Who cares what she says?

The mother gives up.

MRS LANTZ:

You should get to sleep soon,

Glen. It's almost midnight.

Goodness knows we've all had

enough of a time the last few

days...

GLEN:

I will, Mom...in a while.

You guys turning in?

MRS LANTZ:

Pretty soon.

His MOTHER sighs and goes out, closing the door behind her. GLEN

flips the TV back on and glances at the clock.

138. INSERT OF CLOCK. It's 11:42. 138.

139. TIGHT ON GLEN's face. He clamps the earphones back on, and turns 139.

the volume up high. The MUSIC is so loud we can hear it

resonating inside his skull.

CAMERA MOVES PAST GLEN to his window, then ZOOMS through to:

140. EXT. ELM STREET / NANCY'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 140.

CONTINUE ZOOMING into the LIGHTED window of NANCY's barred second

floor bedroom and

CUT TO:

141. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT 141.

CLOSE ON MARGE, weaving on the edge of NANCY's bed, stroking

the girl's hair. NANCY's still something of a wreck, but less

than MARGE.

MARGE:

We'll go away, take a vacation.

Get your hair colored nice, the

way it was. No one will ever

know.

(sniffs)

This whole room smells of coffee,

y'know?

She gathers up NANCY's coffee cups and empty NoDoz boxes, leans

down and kisses her.

MARGE (CONTD)

It's all over now, baby. The

nightmare's over. Please.

NANCY nods her head, half stubborn, half sadly. She can barely

keep her eyes open now.

NANCY:

Okay.

She scrunches into her pillow. MARGE smiles haggardly and shuts

off the light, taking the coffee pot with her as she leaves.

NANCY (CONTD)

Night-night.

MARGE smiles, relieved. The girl pulls the blanket around her

shoulders. Her eyes flutter closed, her breathing becomes regular

and deep. Once again she's the litle girl MARGE fantasizes she

is.

The mother tiptoes out of the room, closing the door behind her.

HOLD ON NANCY's sleeping face as the DOOR CLOSES. Her eyes

remain closed another beat, then open wide.

She quietly jumps out of bed and shakes herself savagely to

scatter the sleep settling so quickly.

Rate this script:3.7 / 3 votes