Excess Baggage Page #8

WILL:

They didn't have time.

She pauses, exasperated.

EMILY:

My father doesn't need time. We've got to go. Now.

He stands firm. She stalks out.

WILL:

Sh*t. This is definitely a hostage situation.

INT. WILL'S PORSCHE - DAY (RAINING)

Will, driving, squints against rain splattering throughthe hole in the driver's side window. Emily, smoking with her window cracked,is quiet.

WILL:

Family reunions must be a blast at your house.

She taps cigarette ash out the window -- wind and rain blowit back into the car. Will winces.

EMILY:

I'm just having a little fun here. Don't take itpersonally.

WILL:

This is fun?

EMILY:

This car isn't safe anymore.

WILL:

You want another car, you steal your own.

EMILY:

Excuse me. I have a car. It happens to be in yourgarage.

They drive in stony silence --

WILL:

Lemme let you in on a little secret, Princess. Thecars I steal are business. Not fun. Not boredom. Not rich kid curiosityor life on the wild side. Business.

He's pissed. Emily laughs.

EMILY:

I like you.

WILL:

What do you do to people you don't like?

Will sighs, swerves to the curb, turns to her, engine idling.

WILL (CONT'D)

Look, I don't like being chased by police. I don'tlike police coming to my door. I don't like strangers in my house.I don't like strangers in my car. I don't like strangers, period.

Emily studies him with a clear steady gaze.

WILL (CONT'D)

So I'm sure you're a real nice girl, though you'vegot a few problems and a real strange sense of humor, but I didn'task for you, I don't want you, I don't need you, and I don't likeyou. I want off this ride.

EMILY:

Okay.

WILL:

Okay?

EMILY:

Okay.

WILL:

Good.

EMILY:

Pay me for my car, and I'm gone.

WILL:

What?

Emily shoots him a look. His jaw tightens.

WILL (CONT'D)

Fine.

EXT. MOTEL - DAY

Thomas Perkins' discreet automobile -- tinted windows, Oregonplates -- sits in the motel parking lot Emily and Will just left --

And past the car, through the motel office window, you cansee Perkins conversing with a very pale motel office clerk -- who opensa registration book, no questions asked, for Thomas to examine.

EXT. TRUCK STOP - DAY (RAINING)

It's not night, but it's damn dark, what with rain and clouds.A gaudy neon light flashes welcome at the interstate. Fluorescents piercethe gloom above gas pumps and semis. Occasional burly figures dash beneathslickers for the yellow glow of a coffee shop.

Will and Emily stand in shadow by the Porsche. Will castsa doubtful glance around -- Emily extends her hand.

EMILY:

Well, have a good life.

Will awkwardly accepts the handshake.

WILL:

Same to you.

EMILY:

And lose that car --

Will opens his mouth to protest --

EMILY (CONT'D)

Just for a while. Park it somewhere. And stay awayfrom phones. Trust me on this.

She strides away, a slim, erect figure in the gloom -- looking,suddenly, awfully frail and abandoned. Will frowns, a hint of concern, thentouches his bruised jaw and eyes his broken window.

WILL:

Who am I kidding? She can take care of herself.

He shakes his head -- Emily turns --

EMILY:

Hey, what's your name?

Will pauses, indecisive --

Emily (CONT'D)

Never mind. Probably better if I don't know.

WILL:

Right.

EMILY:

Right.

He watches, until she disappears around a corner --

INT. WILL'S PORSCHE - DAY (RAINING)

Will collapses into the Porsche's rain soaked seat, grimacesat the wet and the hanging ignition, then starts the car and pulls ontothe highway. But he checks the rearview mirror one last time, watching thetruck stop lights fade away into the gloom.

WILL:

Good-bye, Emily Hope.

And he breathes a sigh of relief.

EXT. FARMHOUSE/DRIVE - DAY (RAINING)

Dusk is falling as Will's Porsche turns up a dirt driveand halts at an old gate --

Will climbs out to unlock a rusty key lock on an old chain,swings the gate open, drives through, climbs out to relock it, before continuingup the drive.

INT. WILL'S PORSCHE - DAY (RAINING)

Will follows the drive through trees, an overgrown field,around a bend -- there's an old dilapidated farmhouse and a boarded up barnahead.

He stops at the barn and clicks his trusty garage door opener-- the barn door rolls back on tracks.

INT. BARN - DAY (RAINING)

Inside, the barn's similar to Will's Portland warehouse:illuminated by overhead flourescents, a clean, if dusty, cement floor, acouple cars under dusty covers.

Will climbs wearily from the Porsche, pats its side affectionately,and heads out the side door --

EXT. FARMHOUSE - DAY (RAINING)

-- making his way to the old farmhouse --

INT. FARMHOUSE - DAY

A big old place, dusty and unused. But the utilities work-- Will swings into the kitchen, flicks on lights, dials a phone -- pauses,shakes his head --

WILL:

Don't be ridiculous.

And continues dialing. He drags a coffee maker from underthe counter, rinses as he listens to the phone RING on the other end.

JOE (V.O.)

This is Joe. I'm not here. Leave a message.

Will sighs.

INT. TRUCK STOP/COFFEE SHOP - NIGHT

Emily, rain soaked and looking less than able to pay fora cup of coffee, sits at the counter wearing a pair of large, black sunglasses,sipping the aforementioned coffee and studying a map.

The WAITRESS shoots her a suspicious glance, ambles up torefill her cup and smack a bill on the counter.

WAITRESS:

Lotta glare on the road today, is there?

She indicates the rain swept night outside the windows.Emily touches her sunglasses and laughs, self conscious.

EMILY:

Oh, these.

The waitress waits for Emily to take off the sunglasses.Emily doesn't.

EMILY (CONT'D)

This is very embarrassing --

Emily touches a finger to the skin beneath her sunglasses-- implying a black eye -- shrugs, lifts her coffee cup, bringing her scabbedover elbow into full view --

In two seconds flat, the waitress goes from smart ass tosympathetic.

WAITRESS:

Do you need help?

Emily casts her gaze around the room, smiles wryly.

EMILY:

Do you know any of these people? I hate to justask a stranger, and I guess they have rules about people ridingalong, but. . . Do you know anyone, a nice guy maybe, who wouldbe willing to give someone a lift out of town?

WAITRESS:

Where do you want to go?

Emily

It doesn't matter where, it just needs to be tonight.

WAITRESS:

You just sit right here, honey, i'll be right back.

The waitress stiff legs it to a table and whispers to truckers.

INT. FARMHOUSE/BATHROOM - NIGHT

Will revels under a hot shower.

EXT. FARMHOUSE/DRIVE - NIGHT

The gate to the drive hangs open.

A car approaches -- a very expensive car with tinted windowsand Oregon plates -- headlights off, it parks out of sight of the farmhouse.

You guessed it:
Thomas Perkins.

INT. FARMHOUSE - NIGHT

Scrubbed and dressed in a robe, Will pours himself a cupof coffee, ambles into the spartan living room, switches a radio on to MUSIC,lifts a phone, dials, and listens to it RING on the other end as he liftsa remote control and switches on the MUTED TV.

JOE (V.O.)

This is Joe. I'm not here. Leave a message.

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