Breakdown Page #2

He stops, lifts his eyes.

JEFF:

It was different this time.

He breaks off and pushes through the curtain. She

watches him go.

CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM -KITCHEN AREA -NIGHT

Jeff pours himself a glass of milk. Amy enters, stands

on the other side of the counter. Jeff doesn’t meet her

eyes. After a beat:

JEFF:

I talked to Reynolds.

(a beat)

He thinks I could still get the

job at the San Diego station.

AMY:

Oh, Jeff, you didn’t...

(CONTINUED)

8.

CONTINUED:

JEFF:

Think of it. Low pressure, a

steady paycheck. So I shoot city

council meetings --how bad could

it be?

She looks at him, concerned.

AMY:

Is that what you really want --or

are you just running away?

JEFF:

Who’s running? It’s good money,

full benefits. I’m tired of

freelance. We could finally put

some money in the bank.

AMY:

You know I’ll never stand in your

way. But you’ve worked so hard.

Are you sure you want to throw it

away?

JEFF:

Throw what away? Don’t you get

it? I don’tdo anything. I sit,

I watch, I film --I let it

happen.

AMY:

You’re supposed to let it happen.

It’s your job.

JEFF:

No, Amy. It’s my excuse.

She looks at him, not understanding. He hesitates.

JEFF:

That girl... it’s like I was

paralyzed. I wanted to do

something, but I didn’t. I just

stood there and watched her get

killed.

He looks at her, emotional.

JEFF:

Please, babe, I need this. Say

yes and we’ll take as long as you

want --drive cross-country and

make a vacation out of it. What

do you say?

(CONTINUED)

9.

CONTINUED:

Amy looks at him, considering. We hear a faint RUSH OF

WIND. Then it gets LOUDER... LOUDER... and -

CUT TO:

EXT. CREDIT MONTAGE -VARIOUS LOCATIONS -LOW ANGLE DAY

AND NIGHT:

The metallic grill of the Cherokee explodes INTO FRAME as

the car whooshes over us, hurtling down the Massachusetts

Turnpike.

In a SERIES OF SHOTS, with CREDITS OVER, we see landmarks

form the cross-country trip: a Pennsylvania Dutch

farmhouse, a smoke-spewing factory in Ohio, the

Mississippi River, Kansas wheat fields, Loveland Pass and

the Continental Divide.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. OPEN DESERT -DAY

The middle of nowhere. Sand, weeds and sagebrush. A

two-lane highway stretches to the horizon like a ribbon

of asphalt.

The Cherokee cruises along the road. Its Massachusetts

plates seem out of place in this stark landscape.

There are no other vehicles.

MOVING CLOSER, we see that Jeff is driving. Amy is sound

asleep in the reclined passenger seat.

In back, luggage, moving boxes, camera cases.

INT. JEEP CHEROKEE -DAY

The AIR CONDITIONING WHISPERS. On the console are two

empty Styrofoam McDonald’s coffee cups and a state-ofthe-

art Nikon Camera.

Jeff stretches in the driver’s seat. He forces his eyes

open, fighting sleep. He reaches for the coffee cup...

it’s empty. He glances into the back of the Jeep. There

is a thermos of coffee on the back seat.

Keeping one hand on the wheel, he reaches for the thermos

and fumbles it to the floor. He strains to reach it. He

doesn’t notice...

10.

EXT. HIGHWAY -200 YARDS AHEAD

A slow-moving Dodge Ram pickup truck is approaching the

highway along a small road that cuts across the desert

floor.

The pickup, equipped with oversized tires, roll bar, and

a CB whip antenna, bounces over the uneven terrain and

turns onto the highway, stopping just before entering

Jeff’s lane.

INT. CHEROKEE -DAY

Jeff glances up just in time to see the Ram lurch into

the road in front of him. Jeff drops the thermos and

spins the wheel!

Amy’s eyes fly open -

EXT. HIGHWAY -DAY

The Cherokee goes into a wild looping skid. The Ram

jerks to a halt as the Cherokee whips past, averting a

collision by inches.

INT. CHEROKEE -DAY

Jeff expels a breath. Amy turns to see the pickup

stopped in the road. She looks at him, concerned.

AMY:

Jesus, Jeff...

JEFF:

Sorry. I took my eyes off the

road.

AMY:

(seeing thermos

on floor)

Maybe it’s time we took a break,

you know?

Jeff nods, looks in the rearview mirror.

HIS POV -PICKUP

halted in the middle of the road. Inside, dimly-visible

through tinted windows, are two figures in cowboy hats.

The driver leans out the window and gives Jeff the

finger.

11.

BACK TO JEFF:

angry at himself. He looks over at Amy.

JEFF:

I’ll pull over next chance we get.

(a beat)

Sorry...

He glances in the rearview again, still a bit shaken.

CUT TO:

EXT. GAS STATION -DAY

A small desert gas station/mini-mart just off the

highway. A sign over the building: "Last Gas For 30

Miles." The Cherokee is parked at the pumps, hood

raised.

Jeff comes out of the mini-mart, carrying a plastic quart

of oil. He unscrews the cap and starts to fill the

crankcase, careful not to spill on the new engine. In

the b.g., Amy is visible inside the store, browsing a

magazine rack.

INT. CONVENIENCE MART -SAME TIME

Amy thumbs through a cheap tourist guide, The Desert

Southwest. A TRUCK DRIVER stands nearby, perusing the

magazines. He glances in Amy’s direction, notices what

she’s reading.

TRUCKER:

On vacation?

Amy looks up at him. He’s 50ish, plain-looking,

friendly, wearing a "U.S.A." logo baseball cap.

AMY:

Sort of. We’re moving, actually.

TRUCKER:

Whereabouts?

Amy hesitates. She’s not used to talking with strangers,

but the guy seems harmless enough.

AMY:

California. We thought we’d take

the scenic route.

(CONTINUED)

12.

CONTINUED:

TRUCKER:

Huh. In that case, you oughta try

the Pass Road, ’bout thirty miles

west. Real pretty, makes a loop

through the hills, then hooks back

up with the highway.

Amy smiles politely, moves toward the cash register.

AMY:

Thanks. I’ll mention it to my

husband.

The Trucker tips his cap.

TRUCKER:

Okay, then. Good luck. Enjoy the

rest of your trip.

EXT. GAS STATION -DAY

As Jeff continues pouring the oil, he doesn’t notice the

mud-streaked Dodge Ram pickup pulling up to the pumps

behind him. The driver, EARL, climbs out. The other man

remains in the cab with the smoked windows rolled up.

Earl is a beefy man about Jeff’s age. He wears a sweat-

stained Western hat, cowboy boots and a T-shirt with the

sleeves cut out to display his tattooed biceps. He

saunters over to the Cherokee, stands there a beat,

looking over Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff senses something behind him, turns. His eyes widen

as he sees Earl, recognizes the pickup as the one he

nearly hit a few minutes before. Earl stares at him,

unsmiling.

EARL:

(flatly)

Nice car.

Jeff is in an awkward position. He’s got a half-full

upside-down bottle of oil in his hands. If he lifts it

now, he’ll spill on the engine. He turns his gaze back

to the engine, decides to keep pouring.

JEFF:

Thanks.

Earl steps around to the open passenger window, peers in.

Jeff watches him, wary.

(CONTINUED)

13.

CONTINUED:

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