Lone Star

EXT. TEXAS SCRUB -- DAY

Two men in shorts and Hawaiian shirts are poking around a

sandy section in the middle of scrub flats.

SERGEANT CLIFF POTTS is in the f.g., a plant-and-tree

guidebook in hand, as SERGEANT "MIKEY" HOGAN works a metal

detector over a large, sandy bank in the b.g. Both are Army

career men with a morning off to pursue their hobbies.

CLIFF:

We got ocotillo, devil's walking

stick--what's this stuff--it's

that whattayoucallit--horse-

crippler.

Mikey bends to scoop something out of the sand, putting it

in a canvas bag slung on his bip

MIKEY:

This place is a gold mine.

CLIFF:

Lead mine.

MIKEY sees that Cliff is talking, pulls his headset off.

MIKEY:

What?

CLIFF:

It's a lead mine.

MIKEY:

Right.

CLIFF:

I don't know why I'm talking to

you, you've got that thing on

your head.

MIKEY:

You finding lots of cactus and

sh*t?

CLIFF:

It's not just cactus. There's

the nopals, the yuccas--

MIKEY:

(Puts headset on)

Looks like a lot of cactus to me.

CLIFF:

(Grumbles)

Man knows a hundred-fifty varieties

of beer, he can't tell a poinsettia

from a prickly pear.

MIKEY:

(Troubled)

Cliff--

CLIFF:

You live in a place, you should

know something about it. Explore--

MIKEY:

Cliff--

CU MIKEY:

MIKEY in the f.g. now, looking down at something as he pulls

his headset off again --

MIKEY:

Cliff, you gotta look at this--

Cliff wearily turns and approaches from the b.g.

CLIFF:

Don't tell me--Spanish treasure,

right? Pieces of eight from the

Coronado expedition--

He stops by Mikey and looks down, his expression changing

CLIFF:

Jesus--

GROUND -- CU BONES

Sticking out from the sand bank are the SKELETAL BONES of a

MAN'S HAND. There is a ring on one finger.

MIKEY (O.S.)

Was Coronado in the Masons?

EXT. ROAD -- DAY

A distant cloud of DUST appears on the horizon MUSIC

underscores that we are in Texas, and we SUPERIMPOSE the

OPENING CREDITS as the dust takes form around an APPROACHING

CAR. The car comes close enough to see it has a County

Sheriff's insignia on the side.

INT. CAR

We see SAM DEEDS, the Sheriff, driving. Sam is 40, quietly

competent to the point of seeming a bit moody.

He sees something up ahead. MUSIC, CREDITS END as Sam pulls

off the road and we see the sergeants standing in the scrub

EXT. SCRUB -- DAY -- BONES

The hand and forearm down to the elbow of the skeleton are

visible now.

WIDER:

Cliff stands looking at the arm with Sam. MIKEY is a few

yards behind them, playing with his metal detector. Beyond

him we see the Sheriff's car parked.

SAM:

I was driving back from Apache

Wells when they got me on the

radio.

CLIFF:

This was a rifle range way back

when. But we figured it isn't

Army land anymore, it's your

jurisdiction.

SAM:

(Nods)

I've got the forensics fella coming

down from the Rangers. No way to

know how old the body is without

some lab work.

CLIFF:

That ring--

SAM:

Masons been around a long while.

Mikey has come up to them, still sweeping with the metal

detector.

SAM:

Treasure hunter?

CLIFF:

(Apologetic)

Old bullets. He uhm--makes art

with them.

Sam just nods. Mikey frowns, goes down on one knee and

scratches something out of the dirt at their feet--

CLIFF:

The Sheriff says we shouldn't

touch anything,

MIKEY:

(To Sam)

He can't hear with that rig on--

Mikey!

Mikey comes up with something, holds it before them. An

encrusted piece of metal--

MIKEY:

What've we got here?

Sam takes the thing, lays it back down where Mikey found it.

SAM:

S'posed to leave everything right

where we found it. They're real

particular about that.

MIKEY:

The scene of the crime.

SAM:

No telling yet if there's been a

crime.

Sam frowns down at the piece of metal as he rubs the face of

it.

CU METAL:

Sam's thumb wipes across the face of the encrusted metal.

It is roughly star-shaped.

SAM (O.S.)

But this country's seen a good

number of disagreements over the

years.

INT. HIGH SCHOOL CLASSROOM -- DAY -- TEXAS MAP

We look at a beautiful old pull-down map of Texas.

PILAR (O.S.)

We do the best we can here--

A teacher in her late 30s, PILAR CRUZ, steps in front of the

map and we FOLLOW her across the room, carrying a poster

PILAR:

--but hey, public education these

days is a bit of a battleground.

Posters bung on the walls beyond her show luminaries from

Texas history--Sam Houston, Stephen Austin, Juan Seguin. A

new parent, CELIE PAYNE, stands in the middle of the otherwise

empty classroom.

CELIE:

He went to school on base when we

were in Okinawa. it's all--you

know--kids in the same boat--Army

brats.

PILAR:

His record shows that he's a good

student.

CELIE:

I'm more worried about the social

thing. Are there like--gangs,

or...?

PILAR starts to put the poster up. CELIE moves to hold it

in place for her.

PILAR:

We haven't had any serious

violence, if that's what you mean.

We've got a pretty lively mix

though--you walk into the cafeteria

and the Anglo kids are in one

section, the Mexican kids in

another and the Black kids have a

table in the back--thanks--

CELIE:

So Blacks are--

PILAR:

They're the smallest group except

for a couple Kickapoo kids. Look,

you're obviously a concerned

parent. Chet has no history of

getting into trouble--I'm happy

to have him in my class.

She steps back to see if the poster, an old pboto of Geronimo,

looks straight. Another teacher, MOLLY sticks her head in

the door---

MOLLY:

(Uncomfortable)

Pilar, is uhm--is Amado okay?

PILAR:

Okay? He's not here?

MOLLY:

No. Is he sick?

PILAR:

(Mutters)

He's going to wish he was dead.

EXT. STREET -- DAY -- CU VAQUERO PICTURE

On the door of a deluxe pickup truck is an airbrushed picture

of a Pancho Villa-looking vaquero with bandoliers crossing

his chest and a gun blazing in each hand. We hear LOUD MUSIC --

AMADO (O.S.)

Luis! Give me that Phillips-head

back--

WIDER:

A small group of teenage Chicano BOYS hang around the truck

in the bed, on the hood, leaning against it. A BOOMBOX placed

on top of the cab blasts RANCHA MUSIC out at the neighborhood.

Somebody's legs are hanging out the open passenger-side door.

The kids suddenly look as a Sheriff's Department car slides

into the f.g. A Deputy Sheriff, TRAVIS, gets out

KIDS:

Trying to look tough and unworried as we TRACK across the

street toward them. Travis's hand reaches out from behind

the camera to flick the MUSIC OFF.

INT. PICKUP

Amado CRUZ, Pilar's 15-year-old son, lies on the front seat

installing a compact disc player into the dash slot.

He reaches up to the dash, can't find what he wants

AMADO:

Somebody hand me the CD player--

damelo pendejos--

He looks up and we TILT to see Travis leaning in the window,

examining the new radio

TRAVIS:

They come a long way from those

old 8-track jobs, haven't they?

AMADO:

Something wrong?

TRAVIS:

(Waves radio)

This is stolen property. Alla

you fellas are coming down to the

station.

INT. CAFE SANTA BARBARA -- AFTERNOON -- ENRIQUE

Sweat beads the forehead of a thin, tired-looking recent

immigrant, ENRIQUE, as he delivers platters of chile rellenos

to a booth. MEXICAN MUSIC plays on a jukebox in the b.g.

We HOLD on the booth, where HOLLIS POGUE, in his 60s

entertains two GOOD OLD BOYS--

Rate this script:3.5 / 2 votes