Cast Away Page #19

He eats them.

EXT. RAFT - NEXT MORNING

Chuck splashes sea water on his face. Adjusts the water

still.

GOODCHUCK:

Please don't leak. Please.

Chuck picks up the smallest fish. It's half digested. He

washes it in the ocean, trigger fish come up and nibble at

his fingers.

GOODCHUCK:

Don't look at me. It was that Dorado.

He cuts the small fish and hangs it on the stays.

GOODCHUCK:

You know, Wilson, every now and then we

should say thank you. Thank you God.

BADCHUCK:

Thank you for f***ing up my life.

Suddenly something bumps the raft. Hard. Then again.

GOODCHUCK:

Not again.

Fins cut the water. SHARKS. A big hammerhead bumps the

raft. BadChuck hums the theme from "Jaws." Chuck takes his

spear stabs at the shark.

BADCHUCK:

He's going to get you, going to get

you...

Another one circles in, bumps the raft.

GOODCHUCK:

Get away from me!

The shark circles again, that big hammerhead like a

nightmare.

GOODCHUCK:

Get him get him get him.

He stabs at it with his spear. He might as well have stabbed

concrete. The shark circle, Chuck stabs again.

But the shark is gone.

GOODCHUCK:

Where are you? Where are you?

Stabs again and again at the empty ocean.

GOODCHUCK:

Stop! You're using energy. Move slowly.

Be patient.

Chuck kneels, wavering, on the raft. The ocean is calm.

Suddenly, BUMP. The raft tilts.

Chuck hangs on.

Then a shark appears, just out of spear range. Its lifeless

black eyes seem to stare right through Chuck.

If the Dorado was a gift from God, this is a message from

Hell.

Then the shark is gone.

EXT. RAFT - DAY - MOMENTS LATER

Chuck lies back on the raft. He is humming.

BADCHUCK:

What are you smiling about? They'll be

back.

GOODCHUCK:

I'm dancing on the roof of the Peabody

Hotel. With Kelly.

He smiles at the thought.

GOODCHUCK:

The music ends. We go back to the table.

The waiters have brought dinner. New

York Strip with Bordelaise Sauce.

Mushrooms in brown gravy. Roasted

potatoes with garlic and rosemary. Green

Beans with almonds. Fresh biscuits and

cornbread, dripping with butter. A nice

salad with ranch dressing. A jumbo

shrimp cocktail.

Thinks about that, it spoils the picture.

GOODCHUCK:

No shrimp.

(then)

We eat.

He closes his eyes. This is the greatest fantasy.

GOODCHUCK:

(as the waiter)

For dessert, we have pecan pie a la mode,

we have a double chocolate cake with

creme anglaise, we have a nice pear

torte, fresh key lime pie, or perhaps if

you care to wait a few minutes, a grand

marnier souffle?

Chuck thinks over the options, thinking of each one.

GOODCHUCK:

Why, bring them all, bring them all.

He rolls over. There, square in his vision, is a ship, its

form coming in and out of a low haze.

Chuck jumps to his feet. Waves. Screams.

GOODCHUCK:

Here! Over here!

The ship moves on. We can see the decks the rigging, the

vastness of it.

Chuck realizes he is naked. Struggles to pull on the remains

of his pants finally holds them like a diaper with one hand

as he continues to wave.

On the ship no one is to be seen. It is a spooky sight.

The big tanker moves on.

We are on Chuck's face. Passed up again.

Then he realizes what is about to happen. He throws out the

sea anchor.

He throws himself onto the raft and grips it as tight as he

can, wiggles his feet into the ropes.

CHUCK:

Oh, shiiiittt!

Then comes the wake of the ship. It rocks the raft like a

piece of flotsam. The raft rides high up on the wave, then

shoots down it, but the sea anchor holds, and the raft slows

and rides along with the wave.

And then the sea is calm again.

Slowly Chuck sinks to his knees. His hand lets loose his

pants.

He lies down on the raft and imagines the conversation with

the ship's captain.

CHUCK:

Permission to come aboard, sir.

CHUCK/CAPTAIN

Permission granted.

CHUCK:

May I ask, where are you bound?

CHUCK/CAPTAIN

San Francisco. And you?

CHUCK:

As it happens, I'm headed for Frisco

myself.

CHUCK/CAPTAIN

Would you do us the honor of joining us?

We're just sitting down at mess. Pork

chops and gravy, cranberries, baked

potatoes with all the trimmings, fresh-

baked bread, apple pie...

CHUCK:

No please, join me. Some sundried fish

strips, a few eyeballs, some gills to

munch on.

The depression comes back again.

BADCHUCK:

They're never going to see you. You're

just another piece of trash in the ocean.

GOODCHUCK:

They're on autopilot.

BADCHUCK:

They're always on autopilot. Or else

it's night, or you're in the sun, or

you're in the trough of a wave. They'll

never see you.

GOODCHUCK:

Damn it! Don't be so negative!

Chuck picks up Wilson.

GOODCHUCK:

Wilson, what's your story?

He holds Wilson close to his chest.

BADCHUCK:

I float. You sink. End of story.

GOODCHUCK:

I'm serious. I'm always going on about

me, me, me. Enough about me. Your turn.

BADCHUCK:

It's a f***ing soccer ball, you idiot.

GOODCHUCK:

Shut up.

He lies on the raft and holds Wilson close.

We move up until we see --

EXT. OCEAN - AERIAL - EVENING

Chuck lying curled up on the raft, Wilson cradled in his

arms, and all around the vast empty ocean.

EXT. OCEAN - NEXT MORNING

Chuck slowly wakes up. Sets Wilson aside.

GOODCHUCK:

Don't shirk, don't procrastinate, don't

be lazy. We're okay today. We're okay

today.

And the other Chuck begins to laugh.

GOODCHUCK:

Shut up.

The laughter goes on.

GOODCHUCK:

Shut the f*** up! I mean it.

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