I Walked with a Zombie Page #5

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Without expression, Jessica moves toward her.

MED. CLOSE SHOT -- Jessica and Betsy. Jessica comes toward

Betsy, who takes a step back. They are out of the moonlight

now, but the pale face of the woman seems to glow in the

darkness. She keeps advancing toward Betsy. Betsy screams --

shrill and piercing.

INT. THE RAFTERS OF THE TOWER -- NIGHT

Betsy's cry echoes back and forth between the stone walls of

the tower. The bats hanging from the rafters are roused and

begin to fly, squeaking and mewling.

INT. TOWER -- SECOND FLOOR -- NIGHT

The flight of bats wheels and banks around the figures of the

two women. Betsy screams wordlessly and the shrill, piercing

sound of her outcry lances back at her from the echoing

walls.

CLOSEUP of Betsy. Desperately frightened, her face agonized,

she screams again, pressing her loosely clenched fists

against the sides of her mouth.

INT. SLIT IN WALL OF TOWER -- NIGHT

Single file, the bats sweep out one by one through the

loophole high up in the wall of the tower. Betsy's scream

continues to echo.

INT. TOWER -- SECOND FLOOR -- NIGHT

Jessica still continues to walk toward Betsy. Betsy retreats

from her, backs onto the stone stairs leading to the slit in

the wall. She orients herself quickly; starts to back up

this narrow flight of steps.

INT. TOWER STAIRWELL -- NIGHT

Holland running up the steps of the tower. He is pulling a

light bathrobe over his pajamas and carrying a flashlight in

his hand. Behind him come Clement and a pretty, little negro

maid, Alma. Clement has dressed hurriedly. He is

barefooted; has on his trousers and a shirt, which is not

tucked in at the waistband. Alma, also barefooted, has on a

thick, white cotton nightgown, a little bit too big for her.

Clement carries a lighted kerosene lamp in his hand.

INT. SECOND FLOOR -- TOWER -- NIGHT

Holland, Clement and Alma come up the stairs. Clement's

lantern, held high, illuminates the room, disclosing Jessica

still walking and Betsy cowering away from her.

HOLLAND:

Jessica!

The woman stops and turns slowly toward him. He speaks

hurriedly to Alma.

HOLLAND (CONT'D)

Take Mrs. Holland to her room.

ALMA:

(taking Jessica's arm)

Come, Miss Jessica, come with Alma.

BETSY:

(attempting to get a grip

on herself. Terribly

ashamed)

I heard someone crying -- a woman --

HOLLAND:

A woman crying? No one's been

crying here.

CLEMENT:

Mr. Paul -- yes, there was crying

tonight. It was Alma. Her sister

was brought a'birthing.

HOLLAND:

(with a slight smile)

Thank you, Clement.

He takes Betsy's elbow and starts toward the stairs.

INT. FIRST FLOOR OF THE TOWER -- NIGHT

Clement precedes Betsy and Holland down the stairs, holding

the lantern high to give them light. At the foot of the

stairs he steps aside, standing near the door of Jessica's

bedroom. Betsy and Holland go outside to the garden.

Clement is about to follow them when the door to Jessica's

bedroom opens a few inches. Alma puts her head out

cautiously.

ALMA:

(whispering)

Clement...

Clement goes over to her.

ALMA (cont'd)

I'm going to stay with Miss Jessica

-- in case the new Miss takes to

roaming again.

CLEMENT:

(in a low voice

reprovingly)

Don't you go crying anymore --

that's what frightened Miss Betsy.

ALMA:

Well, she didn't soothe me any --

hollering around in the tower!

CLEMENT:

Shhh!

EXT. FOUNTAIN -- NIGHT

Holland and Betsy come out of the tower.

BETSY:

Why was the maid crying?

HOLLAND:

I'm not sure I can make you

understand.

(gestures toward the

fountain statue)

You know what this is?

BETSY:

A figure of St. Sebastian.

HOLLAND:

Yes. But it was once the

figurehead of a slave ship. That's

where our people came from -- from

the misery and pain of slavery. For

generations they found life a

burden. That's why they still weep

when a child is born -- and make

merry at a burial.

Clement, the lantern still in his hand, passes close behind

them. For a moment they turn and look at his black, still

face, underlit by the rays of the lantern. It reflects all

the sadness of slave people and slave ways. He goes by, the

lantern light fading off in the distance, as he walks down

the path.

HOLLAND (CONT'D)

I've told you, Miss Connell, this

is a sad place.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

INT. BETSY'S BEDROOM - DAY

The birds in the garden are singing loudly and cheerfully and

the sun pours in wide streaks through the jalousies. At the

foot of Betsy's bed Alma stands. She has lifted the covers

and holds Betsy's big toe between thumb and forefinger. She

shakes it gently. Betsy wakes.

ALMA:

Good morning, miss.

BETSY:

(starting to rouse from

bed)

Thank you for waking me.

ALMA:

I didn't want to frighten you out

of your sleep, Miss. That's why I

touched you farthest from your

heart.

Betsy starts to get up and Alma protests.

ALMA (CONT'D)

Don't get up, Miss. I brought your

breakfast. Just like I do for Miss

Jessica.

She turns to reveal right and left-handed coffee pots behind

her on a tray. Also on the tray is an enormous, puffed-up

brioche.

BETSY:

But I'm Miss Jessica's nurse, Alma.

You don't have to do that for me.

ALMA:

I know, miss. But I like to do it.

I like to tend for Miss Jessica and

I want to tend for you. You settle

right back, now, and I'll mix you

your coffee.

BETSY:

(pulling the pillow up

behind her to make

herself comfortable)

Thank you, Alma.

Alma takes a cup and places it on the little table near the

bed. She takes up the two coffee pots and simultaneously,

with a deft movement, pours the hot milk and the hot coffee

into the cup. She sweetens it and creams it and passes it to

Betsy, questioning Betsy with upraised sugar tongs and cream

pitcher before each move.

ALMA:

(while she's pouring the

coffee)

Miss Jessica used to say this is

the only way for a lady to break

her fast -- in bed, with a lacy

cushion to bank her head up. If

you'd only seen her, Miss Connell.

She looked so pretty.

BETSY:

She must have been beautiful. What

happened to her, Alma?

ALMA:

She was very sick and then she went

mindless, Miss.

BETSY:

(reassuringly)

We'll see if we can't make her

well, Alma, you and I.

ALMA:

I do my best. Every day I dress

her just as beautifully as if she

was well. It's just like dressing

a great, big doll.

As she talks, Alma picks up the plate with the brioche and

places it at the bedside. She puts a knife and fork on the

plate. Betsy sets down her coffee cup and picks up the

plate.

BETSY:

What's this?

ALMA:

A puff-up, I call it. But Miss

Jessica always says "brioche."

BETSY:

Looks like an awful lot of

breakfast -- I don't know whether

I'll be able to get away with it.

She puts her fork into it and the whole, enormous structure

of the pastry falls into tiny bits. Both she and Alma burst

into peals of laughter.

DISSOLVE:

INT. FORT HOLLAND LIVING ROOM AND OFFICE -- DAY

This room is fairly long with jalousied doors and windows

like the other rooms in the house. It is tastefully

furnished and there is a large square rosewood piano in one

corner of the room. The rather formal elegant furniture

shows up nicely against the white-washed plaster walls. At

one end is a raised portion with a low railing surrounding

it. Here Holland has his office.

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