Klondike Page #12

BILL:

We’re. All. Just. Guessing.

EPSTEIN:

Ain’t exactly a convention of

academics, is it?

BILL:

Which means, couple of halfasses

like us...

Bill moves a final stone, then peers down into the darkness

between the stones below.

BILL (CONT’D)

...might just have a chance.

54.

He reaches down between the thick stones...stretches...and

we’re with his hand in that moment, straining into the

darkness, away from the light...fingertips just barely

reaching...

...wet, unadulterated sand.

He slowly pulls it up into the light. It scarcely covers the

tips of his fingers. But it’s beautiful and pure in the

light. A promise there might indeed be creekbed below. He

meets eyes with Epstein.

BILL (CONT’D)

We may just have creekbed down

there, brother.

They clasp hand, that bit of wet paydirt sliding down between

their palms. Genuinely excited, though not exactly sure what

it all means just yet.

Nevertheless, Epstein looks around at the incredible amount

of scree around them.

EPSTEIN:

Creekbed or not, we’re gonna need a

locomotive to move all of this.

EXT. DAWSON CITY - DAY

Bill & Epstein move back through town, their excitement

palpable. Both men checking their wallets-

BILL:

What do you got?

EPSTEIN:

Cobwebs.

BILL:

I’m sittin’ on a fiver. Which

should just get the claim recorded.

EPSTEIN:

Gonna wrap a few things up. Meet

back in 20?

A nod from Bill. He steps into the Recorders Office.

Epstein peels off.

We follow him. Up the street.

To the Loan Shop. As he steps inside--CUT TO-

EXT. DAWSON CITY STREETS - LATER

--Bill, emerging from the recorder’s office with claim in

hand. That piece of paper: empowering, legitimizing. He looks

up, sees Father Judge on the sidewalk.

55.

BILL:

Wanted to thank you again, Father.

Judge nods. Bill hefts his claim:

BILL (CONT’D)

I’m in business.

Judge smiles knowingly:

FATHER JUDGE:

So am I.

Said as he nails a sheet of paper to a pole in front of that

primo plot of land mid-street, next to the brothel.

“Future Site of St. Mark’s Catholic Chapel.”

Bill eyes the declaration, the brothel, then Judge.

BILL:

You bought it.

FATHER JUDGE (PLEASED)

Got thoroughly ripped off, too.

An appreciative chuckle between them.

FATHER JUDGE (CONT’D)

We come with different yearnings.

But perhaps we’re equally foolish

in our ambition.

They share a smile. Bill looks up.

BILL:

You seen my friend anywhere?

Judge shakes his head.

BILL (CONT’D)

I’ll come see you when you’re up

and running. And I’ll promise not

to look at your neighbors when I

do.

FATHER JUDGE:

First part, I believe. Second part,

I don’t believe for a minute.

He smiles. So does Bill. Bill peels off.

FOLLOWING BILL--surveying the streets for Epstein. No sign of

him. A brief sense of anxiety burgeons...

Then Epstein comes into view. Rounding a corner. He’s got a

wide, proud smile.

EPSTEIN:

Meet our Locomotive.

56.

As he slowly guides a meek-looking BURRO into view--CUT TO-

EXT. DAWSON CITY / MILL - LATER

--‘LOCOMOTIVE’--harnessed now with a wagon. Bill & Epstein

load milled wood into the wagon-bed.

Bill crosses to Belinda, who’s considering his claim

document.

BELINDA MULRONEY

It’s official. Which mean’s you’re

official now.

BILL:

You say that like it’s a bad thing.

BELINDA MULRONEY

Not necessarily. People know where

to find you, that’s all.

She produces a REMINGTON ROLLING BLOCK RIFLE. Slips it into

his wagon. Off Bill’s look, she nods over to Epstein:

BELINDA MULRONEY (CONT’D)

Your friend here bought it.

BILL:

We ain’t gonna be doing the firearm

thing-

EPSTEIN:

After the things I seen,

brother...I’m not taking any

chances. We can do it with my money

or our money, but either way I’m

buying it.

BELINDA MULRONEY (NODS)

Hundred.

Epstein pays her out as Bill eyes her.

BILL (WAY TOO HIGH A PRICE)

Hundred.

BELINDA MULRONEY

Suppose you’re gonna tell me it’s

grand larceny.

BILL:

It is.

BELINDA MULRONEY

Not if it saves your life it’s not.

BILL:

It’s just the good samaritan in

you, is it?

57.

BELINDA MULRONEY

Nope. I just stock the things

desperate men need. And watch ‘em

shell out ungodly amounts of money

to get them. It’s up to them to say

no.

(to Epstein)

You saying no there, mister?

Epstein shakes his head. He’s all good. Bill eyes her a

moment longer, then climbs aboard the wagon. As he & Epstein

head out, Belinda watches.

BELINDA MULRONEY (CONT’D)

Good luck.

Something not insincere in that. As if she’s watching yet

another young troop go to war, unaware of what’s about to hit

them...

EXT. THE CLAIM - DAY

A week later. “August 2, 1897.” Bill & Epstein’s fledgling

claim is coming together. Loco’s methodically moving away

stones, revealing the first hints of prime alluvial creekbed

beneath the scree.

Bill’s midway through building a cabin. He senses eyes,

however far away, on him.

He looks up, sees high on the ridge, spectral forms in the

treeline. The Tlingit. Pushed to the peripheries by all the

prospecting. For a moment, he locks distant gaze with them.

Their faces, impassive.

He turns then, looks down Bonanza’s expanse behind him.

The permanent haze. The fires burning. The denuded hillsides.

The equipment and detritus cast about. White Man, and his

industry, has definitely staked its claim.

He turns then, looks back at the Tlingit, but they’re gone.

EXT. THE CLAIM - NIGHT

For Alaska, a ‘pleasant’ evening. Bill and Epstein, idling

before the campfire. Epstein, introspective:

EPSTEIN:

Tell me again why you came up here.

BILL:

Told you. Just trying to find a

piece of something that’s mine.

Carve out my future with my own

hands.

EPSTEIN:

I got a different take.

Bill gives his an inquisitive look.

58.

EPSTEIN (CONT’D)

Think you did it for me.

Bill smiles. Absurd.

EPSTEIN (CONT’D)

I’m the halfass here, we both know

it. A man of no prospect. You on

the other hand, sky’s the limit.

And you knew, guy like me, only way

he was gonna come out this way and

make something of his life, is if

you went with him.

Bill smiles. There’s truth there, even if he didn’t fully

realize it at the time. He nevertheless coolly demurs:

BILL:

I like my theory better.

They share a knowing smile.

EPSTEIN:

Thank you all the same, brother.

It’s as sincere as we’ll ever see him. He’s genuinely moved

by Bill’s friendship.

Bill nods. You bet. Epstein hefts his cup.

EPSTEIN (CONT’D)

To aiming for the moon.

Bill hefts his own.

BILL:

Even if we don’t have a chance in

hell of getting there.

Off them, clicking cups--CUT TO-

EXT. THE CLAIM - LATER

--Bill, later, going out into the creek for ablutions. He

rinses his mouth. Washes his face.

Standing ankle deep in the creek, he pauses. Looks down.

A glint there in the dark water.

He squats to get a closer look. Realizes it’s not below...but

instead a reflection on the water of something above.

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