Days of Heaven Page #14

176EXT. FIELDS

Abby and Ursula race across the fields trying to

fly a kite. Ursula rides a tiny Shetland pony. Just as the

wind lifts the kite away, they run into Bill. He sits by

himself observing a spear of grass. Abby drops off. Ursula

rides off over the hill with the kite, leaving her alone

with Bill.

ABBY:

You look deep in thought.

She touches his cheek. He brushes her hand away.

ABBY:

What's the matter?

BILL:

Nothing.

ABBY:

There's nothing wrong?

BILL:

No.

ABBY:

What're you so mad about then?

BILL:

Who said I was mad?

BILL:

Can't I be alone once in a while without

everybody getting all

worked up?

ABBY:

You're the only person getting worked up.

Some buffalo appear on the crest of the next hill. Abby

looks at them. They do not seem quite part of this world but

mythical, like minotaurs.

ABBY:

Chuck says they're good for the grass.

(pause)

Stop giving me that look.

BILL:

You can't keep your hands off him these days.

ABBY:

What're you talking about?

BILL:

You know.

ABBY:

I haven't touched him.

BILL:

How about the other night? I saw you, Abby. The

other night

by the tracks? If only you wouldn't lie! Really, there's

some things about you I'm never going to understand.

ABBY:

I forgot. Anyway it doesn't matter. What are you

doing, always trying

to trap me?

Bill paces around, disgusted with himself and the whole

situation.

BILL:

I can't stand it any more. It's just too

degrading.

(pause)

You and him. Why do I have to spell it out? I

thought it would be all

over in a month or two. Guy might go another five years.

We've got to

clear out, Abby.

They stare at each other in silence for a moment.

ABBY:

Why stop now?

(pause)

We've come this far.

BILL:

What?

ABBY:

You heard me.

BILL:

Why stay? Go ahead and tell me! I'm standing

here.

Bill trembles with shock and anger. The buffalo cast aware

glances at them.

ABBY:

You want us to lose everything?

BILL:

I'm telling you I can't stand it.

ABBY:

You're weak then. What about all I've been

through?

(pause)

And what about him? It would be the worst thing

we could do. Worse

than anything so far. It would break his heart.

Bill is silent for a moment.

BILL:

You're getting to like him, aren't you?

ABBY:

It would kill him. Leaving now would be just

cruel.

BILL:

Would it? So what's it matter to somebody in his

shape?

(pause)

In fact you're just leaving us one way out.

ABBY:

What're you talking about? Murdering him? Ursula

comes riding over the hill, without the kite.

BILL:

You watch and see.

URSULA:

I had to let it go. One of them started

following me, and I threw

a rock at him. I had a bunch stored in my pocket.

They take off running after her.

177EXT. BELVEDERE

As they approach the Belvedere, Bill sees Chuck

standing on the front steps. Suddenly angry, he draws Abby

to him and in plain view kisses her on the lips.

ABBY:

He can see you!

Bill nods; he knows. Abby runs ahead, angry and alarmed.

BILL:

Don't you believe in being honest?

178NEW ANGLE

Abby bounds up the steps. Chuck has bent his

mind to understand all this as mere sibling love, but here

is the greatest test so far.

ABBY:

Aren't you going to kiss me?

CHUCK:

Why?

ABBY:

Today's my birthday.

Chuck gives her a kiss, glad to put aside his suspicions.

179TIGHT ON POINTERS, QUAIL AND PHEASANTS

Tails level, their noses thrust high in the air,

a pair of pointers prance through the high uplands grass,

following a scent like sailors taking in a rope. Pheasants

and quail tremble in their coveys, their eyes big with fear.

180EXT. UPLANDS

Chuck has taken Bill out bird-hunting. They wear

heavy canvas leggings and carry shotguns.

BILL:

Did you ever tell Abby the buffalo help keep up

the grass?

CHUCK:

I think so. Why?

Bill shrugs. Chuck welcomes this opportunity to speak of his

wife. He considers Bill a good friend, in fact the only

person with whom he can talk about delicate matters.

CHUCK:

I want to get her something nice for Christmas.

Bill, who means to kill Chuck the first chance he gets,

forgets this intention for a moment to give him advice.

BILL:

(thoughtfully)

She likes to draw. Maybe some paints. Nothing

too expensive--

she might want to exchange it. Maybe a coat. She likes to

show

off sometimes. She's sweet that way.

CHUCK:

I wish I knew how to make her happy. Nothing I

do really seems to.

BILL:

That's how they are. They like to make you work

for it. I couldn't

ever figure out why.

(pause)

Sometimes you can't go wrong, though. You know

that one Abby showed you a picture of? Elizabeth? I took her

cherry.

CHUCK:

I know. You told me.

BILL:

Actually, I didn't, but I could have. The point

I'm making is you've got

to understand how they operate. Get them thinking you can

take it or

leave it, you're usually okay.

Suddenly the dogs stop rigid, on point. At Chuck's hiss they

sink into the grass.

Bill looks at Chuck's exposed back. Nobody would know. It

could be made to seem like a hunting accident. He c*cks the

hammer of his shotgun. His heart pounds wildly. Chuck talks

in a low voice to the dogs.

CHUCK (o.s.)

All right, put them up, girl.

The dogs rise and inch toward the birds, as slowly as the

minute hand of a clock. All at once the quail explode out of

hiding. Bill jumps at the noise. Chuck fires twice. Two

birds fall. The retriever notes where. Chuck turns around.

CHUCK:

Why aren't you shooting? I left you those two on

the left.

BILL:

They caught me off guard.

CHUCK:

You have to keep your gun up.

Chuck walks ahead. The music builds a mood of tension. Bill

takes a practice shot into the ground. Bill looks around.

There is nobody in sight. He turns the sights on Chuck's

back. It would be simple enough.

Though only twenty feet away, he closes the gap, to make

sure he does not miss.

Chuck whistles the scattered birds back to their covey.

"Pheo! Pheo!" Soon, faint and far away, comes a reply-the

sweet, pathetic whistle of the quail lost in a forest of

grass. The mother bird utters a low "all is well."

One by one, near and far, the note is taken up, and they

begin to return.

Bill holds his breath. His finger moves inside the trigger

guard. He only has to squeeze a fraction of an inch. Three

more birds shoot out of the grass. Chuck fires. At first we

think Bill has, but he cannot stoop this low. He does not

have the heart. Disgusted, he throws his gun on the ground.

Both barrels go off. Chuck snaps around, startled and

concerned. Bill is

shaking like a leaf.

CHUCK:

What's the matter? What are you so upset about?

BILL:

They surprised me again. Chuck sends a retriever

after the fallen birds, then--in an unprecedented gesture-he

puts his arm over Bill's shoulder to comfort him, like an

older brother.

181NEW ANGLE

They return home, the day's kill slung over the

back of a Shetland pony.

182EXT. BACK YARD

They sit on stools in the back yard plucking the

birds.

BILL:

You like to box?

CHUCK:

I never have.

BILL:

Just wondering. I got a pair of gloves I brought

with me.

Bill feels oddly better, as though Chuck had backed down.

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