Lone Star Page #11

ATHENA:

I'm feeling okay--

PRISCILLA:

I'm very happy to hear that,

Private. Now you go put some pee-

pee in a cup for Dr. Innis and

I'll be feeling okay, too.

ATHENA:

(Reacts)

You're testing me?

PRISCILLA:

You and one hundred nineteen other

fortunate individuals. Put it in

gear.

ATHENA:

Yes, Sergeant.

Sergeant Worth watches Athena go, suspicious--

INT. SHERIFF'S OFFICE -- AFTERNOON

Ray Hernandez and another DEPUTY guide Shadow back in from

the courthouse in handcuffs--

RAY:

Excellent performance, my friend.

The judge was very impressed.

SHADOW:

You don't need to cuff me.

RAY:

You been talking so much trash

today, you made us think you're a

dangerous criminal. Be a good

boy, now--

They guide him past Sam's desk--

SHADOW:

You're the one who's a good boy.

Man say "fetch" and you fetch--

RAY:

Just doing my job.

SHADOW:

White man just using you to keep

the Black man down.

RAY:

This isn't Houston, my friend.

We pretty much running things

now. Our good day has come.

SHADOW:

You suckers haven't had a good

day since the Alamo.

Ray smiles, pushes him out--

RAY:

Andale, amigo,

We HOLD on Sam at his desk, TIGHTENING as he holds the .45

slug from the sergeants in front of his eyes--

SAM:

Lupe? Get me the rangers up in

Austin--

INT. MERCEDES' KITCHEN -- NIGHT -- CU GLASS

We hear old MEXICAN MUSIC. Ice cubes plunk into a glass

WIDER, MERCEDES

Mercedes, exhausted from a day at the cafe, pours herself a

Scotch and soda--

EXT. BACK PATIO -- NIGHT

The back LIGHT is flicked on and Mercedes steps out with her

drink in hand, the MUSIC audible from inside.

She sinks into a recliner. We TIGHTEN as she closes her

eyes. Something RUSTLES out In the dark.

Mercedes opens her eyes. There is WHISPERING.

Mercedes sits up and suddenly two MEN run past the edge of

the patio toward the front of the house.

Mercedes sighs--

MERCEDES:

Otra vez los mojados-- [Wetbacks

again--]

Mercedes searches to find a portable phone on the patio table,

punches a number in--

MERCEDES:

Hello? Border Patrol?

EXT. SAM'S HOUSE -- NIGHT

Sam, out of uniform, stands behind his little house chucking

fallen pecans out into the dark, thinking, listening to the

night sounds

CU SAM:

Working something out in his head. He looks off into the

dark and we PAN with his gaze--

A MAN steps toward us, barely visible in the darkness. It

is Charley Wade--

We're in Sam's REVERIE, in 1957 --

WADE:

Who is that? Come out here where

I can see you!

BLAM! A GUNSHOT, and Wade falls to his knees--

WADE:

You sonofabitch--

Wade falls on his face. A FLASHLIGHT BEAM flicks ON and

plays over his body. We PAN back along the be to see Buddy,

holstering his Pistol. He hears something, swings the

flashlight up.

SAM:

We are back in 1995. Sam is blasted in the face with a

FLASHLIGHT BEAM--

PATROLMAN (O.S.)

Hold it right there! Brazos

arriba!

Sam, squinting toward the light to see who it is, raises his

hands over his head--

ZACK (O.S.)

Get that thing off 'im! He's one

of ours--

SAM:

Zack?

The FLASHLIGHT BEAM PANS AWAY and ZACK POLLARD, a Border

Patrol agent, steps out of the dark to Sam--

ZACK:

Hey Sam. Sorry 'bout that,

SAM:

What's up?

ZACK:

We had about a dozen wets come

over just upriver. They ran into

one of our posts--it was like a

breakshot on a pool table, illegals

runnin' every which way

SAM:

I haven't seen anybody come by.

ZACK:

We'll get 'em--

(Looks around)

So You livin' out here now?

SAM:

Yeah. It's quiet--

ZACK:

I heard about that deal for your

father--You must be real proud.

SAM:

Sure.

ZACK:

The stories people tell, he was a

real colorful fella--

PATROLMAN (O.S.)

Zack! We got one!

ZACK:

Well--back on the clock. You see

any of our neighbors from the

south, let 'em know I'm lookin'

for 'em.

SAM:

'Night--

Zack steps away. Sam shakes the pecans still in his band,

goes back to chucking them--

EXT. COURTYARD -- DANCERS

Older CHICANO COUPLES dance to Mexican Music playing from

speakers set up in the apartment complex courtyard. We TILT

UP to see Enrique watching from his window --

INT. APARTMENT -- NIGHT

MUSIC still blasting. Enrique steps away from the window,

and sits on the bed of his drab furnished apartment.

He goes back to tying knots in a length of clothesline

splicing it to another. On the bed beside him are new

flashlights and the batteries, still in their packaging.

He begins to coil the rope -- it is hundreds of feet long.

EXT. FRONT PORCH, PILAR'S HOUSE -- NIGHT

Pilar sits on her front Porch, listening to the MUSIC the

distance. A Woman singing a MEXICAN LOVE BALLAD.

After a while we hear Paloma open the screen door behind her --

PALOMA (O.S.)

Mom?

PILAR:

Yeah?

PALOMA (O.S.)

You gonna stay out here?

PILAR:

For a while.

A silence They listen to the RECORD--

PALOMA (O.S.)

What's she singing about?

PILAR:

(Smiles)

What do you think?

FADE OUT:

INT. SHERIFF'S OFFICE -- EARLY MORNING

Sam has been up since dawn, searching through piles of old

department records. Papers cover his desk and the chairs

he's dragged over next to it. He reads out loud himself

from a report in front of him--

SAM:

First bullet entered beneath the

left eye, severing Optical nerve

and exiting from top rear of skull

causing tissue damage

DOCUMENTS -- VARIOUS SHOTS

As Sam reads, we see quick pops of various records--

Certificates of death.

An old Sheriff's Department payroll.

An autopsy report.

Eviction notices.

SAM (O.S.)

--and severe cerebral hemorrhaging.

Second bullet entered left cheek

driving fragment of upper and

lower molars into base of skull.

Third bullet--

Real estate transfers.

A map of the Proposed Lake Pescadero.

Another autopsy report.

A FAX COPY of the forensics dental report on Charley Wade.

Another autopsy report --

CU SAM:

intent as he pores over the paperwork --

LEGAL PAD:

We TILT DOWN to read various notes Sam has written --

Reynaldo Garcia killed by Shf Wade -- 3/49

Hollis Kinney hired by Shf Dep. -- 9/51

Lucas Johnson k. by Shf Wade -- 7/53

Horace Gaines k. by Shf Wade -- 1/54

Santiago Huerta k. by Shf Wade -- 4/54

Rifle range closed -- 9/56

Eladio Cruz k. by Shf Wade -- 12/56

Buddy Deeds hired by Shf Dep. -- 2/57

Shf Wade disappears -- 3/57 $10,000 cnty funds missing

Buddy Deeds new Shf

We come to Sam's hand, writing, when it clears we can read

the last entry--

Mercedes Cruz hired as cook, Rio Co. jail -- 4/57 ?????

CU SAM:

Trying to put it all together.

PETE ZAYAS, a skinny, older man in trustee's coveralls,

wanders in, emptying the trash baskets in the front office --

PETE:

Morning, Sheriff.

SAM:

Hey, Pete. How's it going?

PETE:

Time marches on.

SAM:

How much you got left?

PETE:

Three months.

SAM:

You stop growing that loco weed

at your place, you'd see a lot

more daylight.

PETE:

It was for personal consumption.

SAM:

You're going to smoke an acre and

a half of marijuana?

PETE:

I got a bad stomach. It helps me

digest.

Pete dumps out the basket by Sam--

PETE:

Your father never bothered me

about it. Leastways not till the

drug people got on his back in

the late '60s.

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