Angel Eyes Page #7

She rises and goes to a desk and takes the holstered gun

off her ankle. She takes the cuffs off her belt, the

mace from her jacket, the shield from her shirt pocket,

puts them all in a desk drawer. She takes off her jacket

and throws it over a chair. Disarmed, she turns to him.

Her look is all wanting and pushing away, almost fierce

in her struggle. He sees this.

SHARON:

Thanks for... coming up here.

CATCH:

Does that mean I’m going?

SHARON:

(flustered)

No. You don’t have to. I...

CATCH:

You okay now?

(CONTINUED)

36.

CONTINUED:

Her eyes grow a bit hard, defensive.

SHARON:

Oh. You’re here as a medic.

CATCH:

Is this the mad part?

She smiles in spite of herself --again. He has gotten

to her. She wants to fall into this guy, but she’s

pumping those brakes. They are standing close together.

SHARON:

Maybe going is a good idea.

CATCH:

Can I come back some time?

SHARON:

Why?

CATCH:

(shrugs)

Must be the smell.

That makes her laugh, and her resistance falls away with

her surprised laughter, and she puts her hands around the

back of his neck. Her touch is electric to him. She is

going in for a kiss, and he is retreating. They stare a

moment --and then he suddenly takes her shoulders and

lets loose his own longing. It is a hungry and

passionate kiss, and in the very midst of it, he breaks

off and pulls back, his darkness rushing at him. She is

staring, surprised, and he is looking a bit shaken,

getting the words out just above a whisper.

CATCH:

I better go.

She doesn’t know what to say. The moment hangs. He

leaves. Once he closes the door, the breath escapes her,

and she shakes her head --feeling like an idiot. She

lost control. With a stranger.

SHARON:

Oh, God.

EXT. STREET -NIGHT

Catch leaving Sharon’s building in a turmoil of emotions,

staring hard at his thoughts --and he steps into the

path of a car. The CAR SCREECHES to a stop, and the

scream of those brakes and white light of the head lamps

paralyze Catch, and he sees -

37.

FLASHBACK -SLIVER OF IMAGE

Headlights suddenly washing into a vehicle he is driving.

BACK TO SCENE (PRESENT)

This sliver of memory jolts HIM --and then another one

comes.

FLASHBACK -HEADLIGHTS

coming closer and the scream of brakes from his memory,

and all of this is exploded -

BACK TO SCENE (PRESENT)

by the angry DRIVER shouting at him.

DRIVER:

What the hell do you think you’re

doing?!

Catch is numb --completely shut down there in the middle

of the street. The Driver exits his car and comes toward

him, raging.

DRIVER:

Are you crazy?!

Catch isn’t even aware of him. The man gawks at this -and

now Catch walks off. It is raining. The streets are

wet.

ANGLE -RESIDENTIAL STREET -NIGHT

As Catch continues his walk, he is still a bit shaken -but

when he passes a parked car with the window half

open, rain getting in, he hesitates. He can’t just walk

on. He looks about. He tests the lock. He opens the

door, rolls up the window, closes the door, walks on.

But a MAN is just exiting a doorway to the street --and

calls out...

MAN:

Hey! Hey! What did you do?

Catch stops and turns in the rain. The Man hurries

toward him, upset, angry.

(CONTINUED)

38.

CONTINUED:

MAN:

That’s my car! What the hell were

you doing?

CATCH:

Nothing. I just...

The Man shoves him.

MAN:

I saw you! What did you take out

of there?!

CATCH:

No, I rolled up the window. It’s

rain...

The Man gets in his face, shaky...

MAN:

You take my phone?! Hah?!

He shoves Catch again, and Catch’s desperate confusion

explodes in a surprising reaction, grabbing the Man’s

jacket front in one hand and not punching him but quickly

slap, slap, slapping him, saying...

CATCH:

Hey! Hey! Wake up! Wake up!

The Man is now speechless, frozen, terrified, as Catch’s

eyes hold him with a fierceness --and a sadness.

CATCH:

I helped you.

(pause)

I helped you.

Catch lets him go, and immediately begins walking away,

hunching into the rain, his expression dark and troubled.

He gets five steps away and turns. The Man steps back -but

Catch only says...

CATCH:

I’m sorry.

And he walks on. The Man watches him go.

INT. CATCH’S APARTMENT BUILDING CORRIDOR -NEXT DAY

Candace, Catch’s neighbor, is waiting for the slow,

RATTLING ELEVATOR with her son.

(CONTINUED)

39.

CONTINUED:

The elevator door opens --and there is Catch, seated on

a newly-bought wicker chair in the elevator with a small

table across his lap, other boxes nearby and a

long-stemmed rose in his hand, wrapped for giving.

CATCH:

Oh. Sorry.

He rises and hurriedly gets his purchases off the

elevator so the woman and little boy can enter.

CANDACE:

Shopping day?

He smiles at her, a bit less subdued than before as he

gets his things into the hall --and he manages a special

look for Tommy, a wink. He frees the elevator; they step

inside. As the door starts to close, Catch’s face

"follows" the sliding door with a funny look for the boy.

We hear Tommy laugh as the door closes. Catch carries

his new possessions to his apartment.

EXT. OLDER HOUSE -LATE DAY

A well-kept older home, well-planted, pretty. A woman of

nearly 60 is tending the flowers. She hears someone

approaching the gate in the wooden fence. She looks up.

Sharon is at the gate, in uniform, on her dinner break.

The older woman is her MOTHER, Elaine Pogue. There is an

old strain between them, a sadness --and a nervousness

in Elaine. She’s a quiet woman. She smiles at her

daughter as Sharon comes through the gate. They hug

tentatively, a lot of baggage here. Sharon turns to the

garden.

SHARON:

It’s looking great, Mom.

MOTHER:

(pleased)

Thanks, honey. It’s the best year

ever for the impatiens. The very

best.

There is a beat of awkward silence.

MOTHER:

Let’sgoin.

INT. POGUE HOME -DAY

As they enter.

(CONTINUED)

40.

CONTINUED:

It’s a bit dark inside, older furniture, lots of keepsake

clutter and photos. Sharon is restless in here --bad

memories.

SHARON:

Looks the same. Still smells like

cigarettes. I thought he quit.

MOTHER:

He’s down to six a day.

SHARON:

Your hair looks nice.

Her Mother touches her hair, self-consciously. She can’t

help glancing at her daughter in all that gear -bullet-

proof vest under her shirt, radio, cuffs --and

that gun.

MOTHER:

Are you well?

Sharon steps close to the mantel. There is a photo of

her there, graduating from the police academy, a

professional, not a family shot. She is surprised.

SHARON:

I guess I’m well. Is this always

here?

MOTHER:

Yes. It’s always there.

SHARON:

Did Larry tell you I came by where

he’s working? Is that why you

called me?

MOTHER:

I called because we want to invite

you to our renewal of vows. It’s

three weeks from Saturday.

SHARON:

Who’s ’we.’ You said ’we’ want to

invite you.

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