Klondike Page #31

41.

BELINDA MULRONEY

Remind me never to do anyone a

solid. Dig someone outta a hole,

all you end up doin' is throwing

dirt on your own grave.

Bill smiles a 10% smile. This woman: dost always protest too

much. As he considers a bottle of Meekor’s rotgut:

BILL:

Gettin' yourself in sh*t-state

ain't gonna do nothing. You're in

sh*t-state enough.

He offers her the bottle. She looks faintly amused:

BELINDA MULRONEY

And 5-cent rotgut's gonna get me

out?

BILL (RE BOOZE)

Meekor’s. Something just this side

of rubbing alcohol. Drinks it when

he wants to knock the sharp edges

off the world.

He nods to the rain outside.

BILL (CONT’D)

Gonna be that kinda night. Full of

sharp edges. What do you say we

knock em off together?

Long beat. Then, as she relents, brings the bottle to her

lips--Bill eyeing her-

INT. CHAPEL - NIGHT

Judge, sleeping on a pew, awakens to a knock. He gets up,

regards Sabine, still sleeping in his cot. Goes to the door

to find:
The Count. Re Sabine:

COUNT:

You’ve got something of mine.

Beat. Judge deciding how to play this. He steps fully into

view. Reveal:
he’s holding the ax. Leaning against it,

balancing his fingertips on it. Calm. But it’s there.

FATHER JUDGE:

Show me a claim and I’ll yield her

to you.

(off Judge’s stink-eye)

You claim ownership, I wanna see

the paperwork.

Count:
faintly bemused by the gall. Nearing, darkening:

42.

COUNT:

I’m a bad individual, father. You

know that don’t you?

FATHER JUDGE:

Is that a threat, or a desire to

join my flock?

COUNT:

A threat, most assuredly.

A tense beat.

COUNT (CONT’D)

That’s the second time you’ve

denied me.

(quiet menace)

Don’t think that collar will save

you, Father.

Judge eyes him back--calm, defiant-

FATHER JUDGE:

Who says it’s me it’s saving?

Count smiles. Nods vaguely to the pistol at his hip.

COUNT:

Hate to tell you, Father, but a

pistol's a whole lot more efficient

than an ax-

And wham--lightning-fast--Judge drives him against the

doorjamb--neutralizing the gun before Count can reach for it.

He crowds Count, a death grip on that gun.

FATHER JUDGE (WHISPERING HISS)

In the right hands maybe.

Count--surprised into inaction for a half beat-

FATHER JUDGE (CONT’D)

Funny thing is you're playing the

bad guy and I'm playing the holy

man. But both of us know only one

of us has got to facility to kill.

Count looks at him in a sort of amazement. Half-titillated:

COUNT:

It's true, isn't it? What they're

saying about you.

(dark smile)

That you're the killer-priest.

FATHER JUDGE:

Just priest now.

43.

COUNT (CHALLENGING)

But you could be tempted.

Judge pulls away. With the pistol.

FATHER JUDGE:

There are plenty of other women in

this world.

COUNT:

You gonna shoot me, holy man?

FATHER JUDGE:

Rather have you in my flock.

(beat)

But whichever one gets you off my

doorstep and outta that woman’s

life...I’ll take.

Count mulls a half beat. Complex feelings. Some fear. Some

pride. But knows full well he’s the physical inferior here.

Especially without his pistol. He beats a strategic retreat.

Ever feigning elegance:

COUNT:

Difference between us is I don’t

need to kill you to win.

(re Sabine)

She’ll spit the bit. Wild horse

like that doesn’t stay in the

corral, even if it is a “house of

God”. Sooner or later, they hop the

fence and run. And who do you

think’s gonna be waiting for her

outside that fence, Father?

He lays the stink-eye on Judge, retreats into the night...

INT. BILL’S SHELTER - NIGHT

Rain. Pissing down outside. Bill & Belinda: well into

Meekor’s bottle collection. Belinda considers the handful of

books Bill’s brought along. Sir Walter Scott, etc.

BELINDA MULRONEY

Too damn smart to be digging in the

dirt.

Bill:
drying his shirt over the fire.

BILL:

You know, you keep talking to

someone like they’re a rookie,

you’re liable to alienate them.

44.

BELINDA MULRONEY

All the better. Then they don’t get

the wrong idea about things.

BILL:

You got, what, all of one season

more up here than I do.

BELINDA MULRONEY

Yeah, but all it takes is one

season up here.

(beat)

To undo 5,000 years of

civilization.

(nods outside)

Don’t know if you noticed, but men

up here aren’t too far from the

neanderthal. Huddled before fires.

Killing each other. Fighting over

things Mother Nature randomly

scattered on the land. Only

difference, far as I can tell, is

that cavemen weren’t burdened with

the idea of money. That digging

shiny rocks outta the ground was

somehow part of the equation.

Bill drinks whiskey. Has his own point of view. But holds it.

BELINDA MULRONEY (CONT’D)

So in that sense, you’d have to say

the species has actually regressed.

Bill surveys his attempts to dry his shirt. Likes what he

sees. And surprises her by giving it to her so that she might

kill off her shivers once and for all.

BILL (SMALL SMILE)

Oh, we come a ways.

Off her--touched--CUT TO-

EXT. LANDSCAPE - NIGHT

--Steele, marching the 2 Tlingit through the rain. The

Tlingit:
uneasy. Steele stops, surprises the elder, thrusts

the rifle into his hand. Nods to a stump 40 feet distant.

STEELE:

Stump over there. Put a hole in it.

The elder Tlingit dithers. Steele snaps. Pulls his revolver.

STEELE (CONT’D)

Put. A. Hole. In. The. Stump.

45.

The Tlingit, cowed, sights up the rifle after a beat. Takes a

shot--and with his bad paw, misses by a mile.

STEELE (CONT’D)

Again.

Elder Tlingit dithers again. Why are they doing this--

Steele presses the revolver to Tlingit’s head.

STEELE (CONT’D)

Again.

Tlingit sights again. Fires again. Misses horribly again.

STEELE (CONT’D)

You’re trying to fool me, aren’t

you? Know full well I’m testing you-

to see if you took that shot that

night. If you were capable-

(beat)

Maybe I’ve got to put some real

stakes to it.

Steele turns the gun on the young Tlingit teenager.

STEELE (DARKLY) (CONT’D)

Now make the shot. Just like you

did that night.

The visibly shaken older Tlingit tries. Can’t. Tries again.

Can’t again! Everything crescendoing-

STEELE (CONT’D)

Make it like you did that night or

he dies!

Older Tlingit takes one more shot, misses worse than ever.

His body begins to shake. With sobs. That he’d rather hide

from his son. But cannot.

Steele has his answer.

He relieves the man of the rifle. Briefly offers the rifle to

the younger Tlingit...but sees, in the tears in the latter’s

eyes, proof of what he already knows. The kid’s too young and

scared to know how to handle a gun.

Steele kneels in the mud beside the shaken, sobbing elder

Tlingit. Assiduous.

STEELE (CONT’D)

It’s okay. It’s okay...

Off this tableau--lawman stoically consoling terrified native

in the rain--CUT TO-

46.

INT. BILL’S SHELTER - NIGHT

Bill & Belinda, Pressed close to conserve warmth.

BELINDA MULRONEY (WRY)

You know you’re not getting

anywhere with any of this, don’t

you?

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