Lone Star Page #16

ATHENA:

(Struggling)

Outside it's--it's such a mess--

it's--

DEL:

Chaos.

Athena is sure she's overstepped her rank--

DEL:

Why do you think they let us in

on the "deal"?

ATHENA:

They got people to fight. Arabs,

yellow people, whatever. Might

as well use us.

DEL:

Do you think you've been

discriminated against on this

post?

ATHENA:

No, sir. Not at all.

DEL:

Any serious problems with your

sergeant or your fellow soldiers?

ATHENA:

No, sir. They all been real

straight with me.

Del stands, thinking, trying not to bullshit her--

DEL:

it works like this, Private--every

soldier in a war doesn't have to

believe in what he's fighting

for. Most of them fight just to

back up the soldiers in their

squad--you try not to get them

killed, try not to get them extra

duty, try not to embarrass yourself

in front of them.

He is right in her face now--

DEL:

Why don't you start with that?

ATHENA:

Yes, sir.

DEL:

You're dismissed, Private.

ATHENA:

Thank you, sir.

Athena salutes, steps out. Del looks out the window, troubled

by the encounter.

EXT. BORDER CONTROL

A battered car full of Mexican DAY WORKERS rolls toward the

Mexican side checkpoint--

INT. CAR

Enrique sits squeezed between workers in the back. The driver

never stops talking as the officer waves them through

DRIVER (O.S.)

--Julia es demasiado flaca para

mime gusto mas mujeres con algo

en frente--o muy altas como Cindy

Crofor. Quisiera montar esa

caballa-- [Julia's too skinny for

me--I like women with something

up front--or really tall like

Cindy Crawford. I'd like to ride

that horse--]

EXT. KINCAID HOUSE -- DAY

Sam's car is parked on the street in front of an expensive-

looking house in a tree-lined neighborhood--

INT. LIVING ROOM

Sam's ex-wife, BUNNY KINCAID, shuffles across her living

room in slippers, crossing to turn off a big-screen TV playing

football highlights. Bunny wears shorts, a Houston Oilers

sweatshirt and a Dallas Cowboys cap. The living room is

like a sports museum -- signed footballs, team posters, a

bookcase filled with tapes of Texas pro and college football

games--

BUNNY:

The Longhorns gonna kick some

serious butt this Saturday, you

just watch. We got a kid at

tailback from down your way--outta

El Indio--

SAM (O.S.)

That's in Maverick County.

She brings us to Sam, sitting uncomfortably, beneath a full-

sized blowup of Tony Dorsett hurdling a tackler--

BUNNY:

Oh. Right. And you're in--?

SAM:

Rio.

BUNNY:

Right. This kid, Hosea Brown?

Does tire 40 in 3.4, soft hands,

lateral movernent--the whole

package. only a sophomore--

SAM:

You still going to all the home

games?

BUNNY:

Well, Daddy's got his box at the

stadium, of course, and I'll fly

to the Cowboy away games when

they're in the Conference. Then

there's the high school on Friday'

nightsWest Side got a boy 6'6",

310, moves like a cat. High

school, we're talkin'. Guess how

much he can bench-press?

SAM:

Bunny, you--uhm--you On that same

medication?

BUNNY:

Do I seem jumpy?

SAM:

No, you look good. I was just

wondering.

BUNNY:

Last year was awful rough--Mama

passing on and the whole business

with O.J.--I mean it's not like

it was Don Meredith or Roger

Staubach or one of our own boys,

but it really knocked me for a

loop--

SAM:

You look good--

BUNNY:

--and that squeaker the Aggies

dropped to Oklahoma-sonofabitch

stepped in some lucky sh*t before

he kicked that goal--

SAM:

Yeah, well--

BUNNY:

--they hadn't pulled me off that

woman I would have jerked a knot

in her.

SAM:

You were in a fight--

BUNNY:

Daddy calls it an "altercation."

How you doing, Sam? You look

skinny.

SAM:

Same weight I always was.

BUNNY:

You look awful good in that

uniform, though.

SAM:

Best part of the job.

BUNNY:

Daddy hired a pinhead to take

your job. He says so himself.

Says "Even my son-in-law was better

than this pinhead I got now".

SAM:

Bunny, is that stuff I left in

the garage still there?

BUNNY:

Least he never called me that.

With me, it was always "high-

strung." "My Bunny might have

done something with her life, she

wasn't so high-strung." Or

"tightly wound," that was another

one. You seeing anyone?

SAM:

No. You?

BUNNY:

Yeah. Sort of. Daddy rounds 'em

up. You aren't talking about

money, their beady little eyes go

dead.

SAM:

You didn't--uhm--you didn't have

one of your fires, did you? The

stuff I left in the garage-some

of it was my father's--

BUNNY:

You watch the draft this year?

'Course you didn't, idiot question.

They try to make it dramatic,

like there's some big surprise

who picks who in the first round?

Only they been working it over

with their experts and their

computers for months. Doctor's

reports, highlight reels, coaches'

evaluations, psychological profiles-

hell, I wouldn't be surprised if

they collected stool samples on

these boys, have 'em analyzed.

All this stuff to pick a football

player for your squad. Compared

to that, what you know about the

person you get married to don't

amount to diddly, does it?

SAM:

Suppose not.

BUNNY:

You kind of bought yourself a pig

in a poke, didn't You, Sam? All

that time we were first seeing

each other you didn't know I was

tightly wound--

SAM:

It wasn't just you, Bunny.

BUNNY:

No, it wasn't, was it? You didn't

exactly throw yourself into it

heart and soul, did you?

She looks at him for an uncomfortably long moment--

BUNNY:

Your sh*t's still in the garage

if that's what you came for.

Sam nods, stands. Bunny is in tears--

BUNNY:

350 pounds.

SAM:

What?

BUNNY:

This boy from West Side, plays

tackle both ways. Bench-presses

350 pounds. You imagine having

that much weight on top of you?

Pushing down? Be hard to breathe.

Hard to swallow.

SAM:

I think they have another fella

there to keep it off your chest.

A spotter.

BUNNY:

"I only got my little girl now,"

he says, "she's my lifeline."

Then he tells me I can't be in

the box anymore if I can't control

myself. Sonofabitch don't even

watch the damn game, just sits

there drinking with his bidness

friends, look up at the TV now

and then. I do better to sit in

the cheap seats with some real

football people.

SAM:

(Edging out)

You took good, Bunny. It's nice

to see you.

BUNNY:

(Smiles)

Thanks. I like it when you say

that, Sam.

EXT. STREET -- CIUDAD LEON

Enrique looks nervously over his shoulder before stepping

into a funky apartment building. We TILT up to the second

floor balcony, where a LITTLE BOY is watching the street--

INT. APARTMENT

There are eight PEOPLE not including the little boy on the

balcony. All are securing their possessions -- rolling things

in blankets, filling shopping bags and grain sacks.

Enrique steps in--

ENRIQUE:

Todos estamos? [Everybody here?]

Anselma reaches up from the floor to take his hand--

ANSELMA:

Van a disparar a nosotros? [Are

they going to shoot at us?]

ENRIQUE:

Nadie nos veran. Seramos

invisibles. [Nobody's going to

see us. We'll be invisible.]

INT. GARAGE -- KINCAID HOUSE -- DAY

A mess. We start on a campaign poster with Sam's face on it

and the legend -- "ONE GOOD DEEDS DESERVES ANOTHER -- VOTE

SAM DEEDS FOR COUNTY SHERIFF". We PAN to see Sam, who has

been digging through piles of old junk, set down the box he

was looking for--

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