American History X Page #10

Murray silently walks out of the house. Derek claps and

sings the Jewish celebration song "Hava Naghila." Stacey

joins in and the two laugh. Doris goes after Murray.

STACEY:

Murray Rosenberg...International Jew.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Murray goes to his car and Doris follows. Danny watches

from the door.

DORIS:

He's a stupid kid, Murray! I'm sorry!

MURRAY:

He's not a kid, Doris. We were kids.

We didn't call people kikes.

DORIS:

It's just gonna take some time with

him. What can I do?

MURRAY:

You don't know your children, Doris!

You have no clue about the world they

live in. Your son is a terrorist.

DORIS:

He's not a terrorist, Murray. Jesus!

MURRAY:

He's a member of the Disciples of

Christ. You remember that grocery

store incident?!

DORIS:

Murray?

MURRAY:

My sister and her two kids got

evacuated from her Temple in Woodland

Hills!

DORIS:

Murray! Please! Derek would never

have anything to do with bombs, okay?!

You don't know him like I do.

MURRAY:

And I wouldn't want to. Goodbye.

Murray gets inside and goes down the street.

INT. HOUSE - SAME

DANNY'S POV -- He watches Doris stand alone, her face in

her hands, crying.

BEHIND Dan a humiliated Davina storms towards Derek, now

wielding a BASEBALL BAT.

DANNY:

Davina?

Derek hears Dan and looks out of the corner of his eye.

He spots her at the last moment.

DAVINA:

Take this, you f***ing dick!

Derek pops up quickly, disarms her, and pulls her close.

DEREK:

Davina! It's okay! Calm down.

Please.

DAVINA:

F*** you! Let go!

DEREK:

(whispering in her ear)

I'm sorry, Davina. Come on.

DAVINA:

Let go of me!

DEREK:

Come on, Davina. I'm sorry. I lost

control. Please. I screwed up.

Derek holds tight until the crying girl settles down.

He's gripped as desperately by remorse as he was moments

before by rage. He kisses and repeats his apology over

and over. Finally, she succumbs and puts her arms around

him. Derek looks to Danny.

DEREK:

(hugging Davina)

You guys are my life and I'd do

anything for you. You do know that?

DAVINA:

(wiping her tears)

I don't believe you anymore.

DEREK:

I swear to God I would, Davina.

Please.

DANNY:

I believe you, Der.

Derek smiles at his little brother, lovingly.

DEREK:

Davina? Please forgive me. Please.

I'm sorry.

DAVINA:

(nodding, after a beat)

That f***in' sucked, Derek.

DEREK:

I know it did. And I'm sorry.

I just really hate that guy.

DAVINA:

You couldn't tell.

A RAINSOAKED DORIS walks through the front door.

DORIS:

Find an apartment because I want you

out of here.

DEREK:

Morn, I'm sorry but that guy's--

DORIS:

I don't wanna hear it anymore! I want

you out!

STACEY:

He can move in with me.

DORIS:

When?

STACEY:

Tomorrow.

DORIS:

Good.

She walks past Derek and into the back bedroom.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. BEDROOM - TIGHT ON DANNY'S EYES - PRESENT

He rises from the computer and PEEKS out the blinds. The

two cops supposedly watching Derek are now eating in the

car. One of them looks up. Danny flips the blinds down.

From the other room, he hears Doris break into another

coughing fit.

INT. LIVING ROOM - DANNY

He sits beside her and hands her a glass of water.

DANNY:

Here.

DORIS:

Thank you, honey.

She coughs, recovers, and sips. Danny walks away.

DORIS:

Hey. Come here. Sit with me.

DANNY:

I've got this thing to do.

DORIS:

You can sit down for two seconds.

He looks at her and sits beside her.

DANNY:

Don't breathe on me.

DORIS:

I won't.

They share a smile.

DANNY:

It's cold in here, no wonder your

sick.

She stares and smiles at him for a few moments.

DANNY:

What?

DORIS:

What? I'm not allowed to look at you

anymore?

He smothers her face with his hand, jokingly.

DANNY:

No. You're not.

DORIS:

(laughing)

Daniel Patrick! Stop it! Are you

ever gonna let that beautiful hair

grow back?

DANNY:

Nope. Never.

DORIS:

I bet you will.

He smiles and locks eyes with his mother for several

moments. He finally rises and walks back to his room.

DANNY:

Get some sleep.

DORIS:

If you need me to proof anything for

you I will.

DANNY:

I'll be all right.

DORIS:

Wake up early if you get tired.

Doris watches him disappear down the hall, distant

thoughts creeping back slowly.

INT. BEDROOM CLOSET - DANNY

He grabs a flannel and throws it on. He sees a cigar box

that rests on the right shelf. He grabs it and looks

inside. The rolled-up LA TIMES clipping reads "Prominent

Skinhead Charged with Murder." The accompanying picture

of Derek is near evil.

TIGHT ON HIS EYES. Danny stares at the clipping. ON THE

TRACK--GUNSHOTS.

MATCH CUT TO:

INT. BEDROOM WINDOW - THE EYES - FLASHBACK

He watches Derek fire his gun at the TRANS AM as it

blazes down the street. He walks over to the wounded man

on the lawn and points his weapon.

STACEY (O.S.)

Get on the floor, Danny! Jesus!

Danny looks down at her and hurries out of his room.

EXT. HOUSE - TIGHT ON DEREK

He hovers over big Lawrence. Gun pointed steadily, he

kicks him in the stomach over and over -- tongue pressed

against teeth. Hot air flows from Derek's breath and

into the cold.

DEREK:

You f***ed with the wrong bull.

LAWRENCE:

Goddamn, man!

Danny watches his brother from the front porch.

DANNY:

Let the cops handle it, Der!

DEREK:

F*** that. The cops will let him

walk.

Derek grabs Lawrence and drags him to the CURB.

DEREK:

Ever shoot at firemen, you f***?

(then)

Open your mouth and put it on the

corner of the curb. I'm gonna teach

you a little lesson.

DANNY:

Derek!?

DEREK:

Get in the f***ing house, Dan!

Danny doesn't move.

LAWRENCE:

Come on, man. Call an ambulance.

DEREK:

My dad gave me that truck,

motherf***er. Couldn't leave well

enough alone. Put your mouth on the

corner of the f***ing curb!

Derek c*cks his piece and Lawrence complies--his teeth

now scraping concrete. SIRENS sound from afar. Danny

walks out into the middle of the street to check it out.

DANNY:

The cops are comin' Der'

Lawrence mumbles something unintelligible from his

outstretched mouth.

DEREK:

What the f*** did you say? You just

threaten me? Hunh? Hunh? Hunh?

DANNY:

(anticipating)

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