Apt Pupil Page #8

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TODD:

And you let them eat the soup?

DUSSANDER:

Oh, we never promised them the soup in

exchange for information. We never mentioned

it at all.

Pause. Todd is impressed.

TODD:

Wow, that's really good, Dussander. I mean

that's...

(pointing)

that's thinking.

Dussander does not respond. He gazes deeply into the fire.

DUSSANDER:

...But, as the war pressed on, the time for

such civilized measures became a luxury. I

remember by April of '45, we had barely

enough food to feed ourselves. The sound of

the Russian mortars grew louder everyday, but

still, the train cars from France and Poland

kept coming. This was a time of desperation.

The ovens burned day and night and still I

knew we would not beat the arrival of the

Russian forces. Many of my men, the cowardly

ones, deserted during the night. But the men

that remained, the same ones I had called

upon so many times, ...continued the work.

At first we thought a massive fire in the

main building would serve our purpose. We

could just crowd them in and pull a gas torch

up to each of the windows. But with so many

of them, we couldn't be sure the bodies would

burn properly. We needed something

...certain. Then a young, bright soldier, I

shall never forget his enthusiastic smile,

pointed to a pair of bulldozers near the

Western gate which had been used during

construction. How perfectly simple it was.

The bulldozers carved a narrow trench, four

meters deep, down the center of the camp.

For two hours they dug until I realized we

may not have enough gas to finish the job.

So the inmates were given shovels and told

they were building a shelter from the

incoming artillery. When they were done, I

immediately called for a practice drill and

three thousand naked bodies began to march

into the trench. It took less than twenty

minutes to get them in place. Quickly the

bulldozers moved down the sides of the pit

sending the piles of earth into the massive

grave. Those who tried to free themselves

were shot, of course, but very few cartridges

were wasted that day. The machines were too

fast. Back and forth they went... packing

the dirt. One by one the tractors ran out of

gas and my men had to scurry along with

shovels. But by sunset... it was done. I

gave the order to evacuate. In the distance

the plumes of Russian mortar fire rose like

an approaching thundercloud. But I knew that

no matter what happened, ...no one would ever

forget what we did here.

Dussander stares into the fire. Todd, wide-eyed, is locked on

Dussander when...

The PHONE RINGS.

They look at each other, a bit puzzled. Clearly, it does not

ring very often, and when it does, Dussander cannot help but be

apprehensive.

It rings again. Dussander gets up and moves toward the kitchen,

Todd watches him go.

DUSSANDER (CONT'D)

Hello?

(Pause. Then with apprehension)

Yes? ...No, no trouble at all. ...Yes.

...Yes, he's here. ...I see.

(his face softens)

...Really? ...No, no plans. ...Ah, lovely.

...My dear, I'd be delighted. ...Certainly.

...Of course I will. ...Yes, until then.

...All right. ...Good-bye.

He hangs up and turns to Todd with a odd grin.

DUSSANDER (CONT'D)

It seems I am to be your guest for

Thanksgiving dinner.

INT. OLD TOYOTA CAR - ROADSIDE - NIGHT

Todd and Becky are in the backseat of Becky's car. They are on

a date and have parked on the side of a road overlooking the

lights of their town. At 16, BECKY TRASK, is an attractive girl

who has recently discovered that boys like her and she likes

them. They are kissing in the back seat. MUSIC plays on the

stereo. Becky's blouse is unbuttoned. She stops kissing Todd.

BECKY:

Is everything all right?

TODD:

Yeah, I'm fine.

Becky smiles to herself, unconvinced.

BECKY:

You're nervous. I think it's sweet.

TODD:

No... No, I'm cool.

BECKY:

Do you want me to do something else?

Todd just stares at her. He doesn't know what he wants. Becky

decides for him. She slides down out of the frame. Todd is

startled at first, but lets her. After a moment, he closes his

eyes.

EXT. DUSSANDER'S BACK PORCH - NIGHT

Dussander sits in his rocking chair. A small blanket drapes

across his lap. He smokes a cigarette and holds a near-empty

glass. On the ground beside him, there is a small bowl.

DUSSANDER:

Here kitty-kitty. Here kitty-kitty.

Out in the yard, the large cat emerges from the darkness and

moves across the grass. It sees Dussander and, more

importantly, the bowl next to him. We see that the bowl is

filled with milk.

DUSSANDER (CONT'D)

Come, puss-puss. That's right. I'll wait.

Dussander sits perfectly still. Cautiously, the cat moves

toward the porch.

DUSSANDER (CONT'D)

That's right, puss-puss. You can smell it

now, can't you?

The cat creeps to the edge of the steps. It takes them one at a

time.

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