Klondike Page #8

FATHER JUDGE:

I of course don’t agree with Darwin

on much...but up here, there’s a

certain credence to his idea of

survival of the fittest.

End of the day, you can’t negotiate

with nature. You either best it, or

it bests you.

Hefting his rifle ever so slightly:

FATHER JUDGE (CONT’D)

However that may be.

EXT. RIVER BANK - LATER

ON JUDGE & BILL--reaching the shoreline an hour later. Sun’s

coming up. Judge’s boat is visible, with the Han woman

waiting stoically. Downriver, across the flow, there’s an

elated whoop:

EPSTEIN:

Son of a b*tch!

Visible on the opposite bank: Epstein & their boat. Epstein

looks like he’s going to piss himself with happiness at the

sight of Bill.

EPSTEIN (CONT’D)

Son of a b*tch, you made it!

(re language in Judge’s

presence)

Sorry, father!

(to Bill)

How are you, you old halfass?!

(MORE)

35.

EPSTEIN (CONT’D)

(to Judge)

Sorry again, father!

Bill gives Epstein a wave. I’m good. I’m good. You just work

on shutting up. To Judge:

BILL:

I don’t know how to repay you...

FATHER JUDGE:

Just pay me a visit at my chapel

sometime when you’re in Dawson.

BILL (IMPRESSED)

You got a chapel in Dawson?

FATHER JUDGE:

Not yet. But I’m fixing to.

(knowing smile)

Man’s gotta have a dream, doesn’t

he? Otherwise...what in God’s

name’d any of us being doing up

here just a chip shot away from

Hell?

Off their shared smile--CUT TO-

EXT. RIVER BANK / RAFT - MOMENTS LATER

Bill boards the raft. Epstein embraces him.

EPSTEIN:

Thought I lost you.

A nice moment for Bill. But he’s troubled.

BILL:

Got an admission to make. Maybe I

shouldn’t’ve been treasurer.

EPSTEIN (SURVEYS HIM)

You didn’t.

BILL (NODS)

I did. Lost it all when I was in

the river.

(shakes his head)

I don’t know if we’ve got to sell

the boat and head back...but

without cash, we can’t get gear,

can’t get a stake...I’m sorry,

brother...I was just being, I don’t

know, righteous, thinking you were

the untrustworthy one.

EPSTEIN:

Well...you were right about that.

He sits back. Smiles. Digs into his sock.

36.

EPSTEIN (CONT’D)

And God Bless me for it. God Bless

both of us.

From his sock, he withdraws a small “reserve” wad of bills.

BILL:

You sneaky son of a b*tch-

EPSTEIN:

Only a fool gives all his money

away.

(looks up into rain)

Never know when a rainy day’s

coming.

Bill embraces him again, both chagrined and relieved.

BILL:

You sneaky son of a b*tch.

EXT. RIVER - DAY

--rain. Relentless. The landscape is brutally beautiful

around the boat. Bill shivers. His clothes, unable to dry in

the unrelenting downpour, are clammy and wet. Epstein’s

erected a makeshift shelter with his oilcloth parka, has

built a small fire in a coffee tin, but Bill’s failing.

Shivering, fetal.

“Yukon River, July 7, 1897.”

Bill’s spirits: shot. Epstein: trying to buoy him.

BILL:

Be a shame...to come all this way

just to die.

Epstein shakes his head confidently.

EPSTEIN:

You ain’t dying.

(beat)

Know why?

BILL:

Why?

EPSTEIN:

You’re too damn responsible.

BILL:

How’s that figure into things?

EPSTEIN:

See, if you die, then it’s just me

out here on this river. Million

miles from home. No clue how to

mine for gold, no clue how to get

back once the cash runs out.

(shakes head)

(MORE)

37.

EPSTEIN (CONT'D)

Bill Haskell I know...wouldn’t

screw a man like that.

Bill smiles at the sentiment.

BILL:

Hang around long enough, I just

might.

EPSTEIN:

Nah. You’re not gonna die. All you

need is a nice, warm bath.

BILL:

Now you’re just being an a**hole.

Epstein’s eyes are on the river ahead. Philosophically:

EPSTEIN:

I acknowledge I’m not exactly the

reading type, but if I’m not

mistaken...that does say “Bath”

doesn’t it?

Bill weakly looks up. Incredulity washes over his face.

Reveal ahead, massive letters painted on the side of a

building. HOT BATHS - 5$.

Around it, a visage so welcoming it verges on impossible...

A CITY. With wharves. A mainstreet. Saloons. Brothels.

Electric light in places.

It’s a chunk of civilization carved impossibly out of the

foreboding landscape.

It’s Dawson City. Paris of the North.

Off the music and laughter, the people in clean clothes

moving back and forth on the sidewalks--and Bill & Epstein’s

faces, regarding it all in dumbfounded amazement-

END ACT THREE:

38.

ACT FOUR:

EXT. DAWSON CITY STREETS - DAY

BILL & EPSTEIN--coming up from muddy wharves into the main

artery of Dawson City. Everywhere is signage, every thing and

service imaginable for sale. Around them, a babel of

languages:
Russian, German, French.

They pass a REALTOR touting a lot in the middle of the block.

REALTOR:

This is prime real estate, my

fellow pilgrims! Location,

location, location. You open your

concern here, you will have no more

‘concerns’! More foot traffic here

than anywhere in the entirety of

the Yukon Territory.

HECKLER:

Not 6 months ago that chunk of mud

couldn’t even sell for 5 bucks!

HECKLER #2

And not only that, it’s next to a

whorehouse!

Which, Bill & Epstein see, is true. A brothel, right there.

REALTOR (UNFAZED)

Finest views in all of the

northwest territories, gentlemen!

There’s raucous laughter all around.

Bill & Epstein pass by, absorbing the aforementioned views:

COURTESANS, advertising their wares from balconies and

windows of the brothel.

Like that first glimpse we got of the gold earlier in

Colorado, there is something so beguiling about these women-seen

as they are through the eyes of men that have long been

in the field--they are in a word, like that gold, sumptuous.

Off Bill & Epstein, as mesmerized by the women as they are by

the high-strung energy and possibility of the town--CUT TO-

--a POV of them--from a window across the street...

INT. BUILDING - DAY

Reveal BELINDA MULRONEY, 30. Stolid. Prepossessing. Watching

their arrival with silent consideration. With eyes that

overlook nothing--or anyone--that comes to Dawson...

INT. DAWSON CITY HOTEL - DAY

Epstein & Bill enter. Approach the CLERK.

39.

EPSTEIN (GOOD MOOD)

Room and a bath.

An uncomfortable beat as the CLERK surveys Epstein.

CLERK:

No Jewboys.

EPSTEIN:

What?

CLERK:

You want a room, go tent up with

the n*ggers outside of town.

Epstein & Bill look at him incredulously. He’s a big nasty

bastard. A hardened Yukon vet. He turns away from them to

other business, as if they don’t exist.

CLERK (CONT’D)

Go on now. Get out of here.

Epstein, incensed, produces a fisftul of cash. Insistent:

EPSTEIN:

My friend wants a bath.

(beat)

He’s a god-fearing

Catholic...pretty sure he won’t

sully your water.

Bill gives him a look--don’t be a spendthrift-

EPSTEIN (CONT’D)

Not a word, squeaky pockets.

The clerk begrudgingly takes the cash. Epstein grits his

teeth, looks to Bill.

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