Days of Heaven Page #11

140BILL'S POV AND TIGHT ON BILL

In the distance he sees Chuck put his arm on

Abby's waist and whisper something in her ear. This intimacy

rubs him the wrong way. He gives his clubs to Ursula and

starts after them.

141INT. KITCHEN

Bill finds them in the kitchen. Chuck goes into

the other room to look for something. Abby lifts the

cigarette out of Bill's mouth, takes a drag and does a

French inhale. Bill kisses her.

ABBY:

Nobody's all bad, are they?

BILL:

I met a few I was wrong on, then.

Suddenly they hear Chuck's footsteps. They pull back just in

time, Abby returning the cigarette to him behind her back.

They chat as though nothing had happened.

BILL:

I have a headache. I probably should've worn a

hat.

Abby rolls her eyes at this improvisation. No sooner does

Chuck turn his back than Bill's hand darts out to touch her

breast. He snatches it away a moment before Chuck turns

back.

Together they walk into the living room.

BILL:

You ever see anybody out here?

CHUCK:

Not after harvest.

BILL:

How often do you get into town?

CHUCK:

Once or twice a year.

BILL:

You're kidding. He must be kidding.

CHUCK:

Why do I need to?

Bill catches Abby's eyes. He frowns at the idea of being

cooped up with this Mormon all winter.

BILL:

Relaxation. Look at the girls. Opportunity to

see how other folks live.

Chuck looks at him blankly. None of these reasons seems to

carry

much weight for him. Bill turns to Abby.

BILL:

Somebody is nuts. I don't know whether it's him

or me, but somebody is definitely nuts.

ABBY:

Why don't I fix tea?

BILL:

Maybe I should help you.

He follows her back into the kitchen, where he starts to

kiss her. She pushes him away and turns to making the tea.

ABBY:

You're worse than an Airedale.

(raising her voice)

You want jasmine or mint?

CHUCK (o.s.)

Mint.

Bill lifts up the back of her dress and looks under it,

testing the breadth of his license. She slaps it back down.

He lifts it again, standing on his right to. She glowers at

him.

ABBY:

Don't do that.

(calling to Chuck)

How much sugar?

BILL:

Why not? I'm just seeing what kind of material

it's made of.

CHUCK (o.s.)

One spoonful.

Bill walks around absentmindedly, inspecting Chuck's things,

stealing whatever catches his fancy. A book, a paperweight,

a bell--things he does not really want and has no use for.

His conscience is clear, however; the sacrifices they are

making excuse these little sins.

As Chuck walks in, Bill has pocketed a candlestick.

ABBY:

Where's the candlestick?

Chuck shrugs. Bill gives Abby a cold look and goes outside.

CHUCK:

He's a strange one.

ABBY:

(nodding)

Once he named his shoes like they were pets. It

was a joke, I guess.

142EXT. WELL

Bill drops the candlestick down the well, stands

for a moment, then punches the bucket with his fist. He

looks up. Benson has seen him.

143EXT. SAPLINGS AGAINST WINDOW - NIGHT

Outside the saplings thrash in the wind.

144INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

Abby wakes up with a gasp.

CHUCK:

What's the matter?

ABBY:

I had a dream.

CHUCK:

What about?

(pause)

Was something after you?

ABBY:

I forgot it already.

145AERIAL SHOT (STOCK)

The camera falls through the clouds as though in

a lost fragment of Abby's dreams.

146EXT. BARN

Benson sulks by the barn. Chuck approaches him.

CHUCK:

You come down here a lot, don't you? Always when

you're mad. You never change.

BENSON:

It might not be my place to say this, sir, but I

don't think they're honest people.

CHUCK:

He gets on your nerves, doesn't he? He always

has.

(cutting in)

Now don't say something you're going to regret.

.

BENSON:

Why should I regret it? I think they're a pair

of scam artists,

sir. Let me tell you what I've seen, and you judge for

yourself.

Chuck, who of course has seen the same things and more,

raises a hand to silence him.

CHUCK:

Maybe you'd be happier taking over the north end

till spring. I don't say this in anger. We've been together

a long time, and I've always felt about you like, well,

close. It just might work out better is all. Less friction.

BENSON:

Don't believe me, then. You shouldn't. But why

not check it out, sir? Hire a detective in Chicago. It won't

cost much. What's there to lose?

Chuck's brow darkens as Benson goes on. For a moment we

glimpse the anger that would be unleashed if ever he woke

up. Somewhere he already knows the truth but refuses to

acknowledge it.

CHUCK:

You're talking about my wife.

And so Chuck, too, becomes an accomplice in the scheme.

BENSON:

Maybe I better pack my things.

Benson turns and walks off. Chuck watches him go, ashamed at

himself. What has this man done but a friend's duty?

147INT. MASTER BEDROOM

Abby sits at the dresser in the master bedroom.

Bill walks in through the door and tries Chuck's hat on for

size.

ABBY:

What're you doing in here?

BILL:

Just walked in through the door, like any other

white man.

On the bureau he finds a pistol. He aims it out the window.

All this will soon be theirs!

BILL:

Smith and Wesson. You ought to see one of these

plow into a watermelon.

She holds a hairbrush out for him to see. He looks it over

and gives it back without comment. He finds a stain on the

tabletop.

BILL:

Somebody's been staining this fake inlay with a

water glass. Actually I don't blame them.

He walks around trying out more of Chuck's appurtenances.

Abby, caught up, models a shawl before an imaginary mirror.

She blows a kiss at herself.

ABBY:

Don't say I did that.

BILL:

The bed should be over next to the window. Where

the view is.

Bill is already making plans for life after Chuck's demise.

BILL:

Maybe we build on a balcony.

(pause)

First the birds go.

The peacocks are crowing outside. They burst out laughing.

Bill checks the mussed bedsheets.

ABBY:

That doesn't concern you.

BILL:

Why not?

(no reply)

Look, I know you've got urges. It wouldn't be

right if you didn't.

Abby stands up, angry.

ABBY:

You think I enjoy it?

BILL:

Lower your voice.

ABBY:

You act like it's harder on you than me! I never

want to talk

about this again.

Bill, consoled, holds an eyelet blouse against the light.

BILL:

I bet he enjoys looking at you in this.

ABBY:

I thought you liked it.

BILL:

He likes it, too, is what I'm saying.

ABBY:

Well, it's the style.

BILL:

I see.

ABBY:

What do you want me to wear in this heat? A

blanket?

BILL:

That's your problem.

Abby puts on her wedding bracelet and admires it. Bill

softens at the sight of her beauty, properly adorned.

BILL:

I told you someday we'd be living in style. When

this whole thing is over I'm going to buy you a necklace

with diamonds as big as that.

He holds out the tip of his little finger. They laugh, as

though they suddenly felt the absurdity of all this

make-believe.

BILL:

You're cute. Maybe a shade too cute.

She touches his face sympathetically, as though to say that

she knows the pain this was causing him.

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