Lone Star Page #9

OTIS:

Carolyn--knock that off for a

minute.

CAROLYN:

CAROLYN SYKES, an attractive woman maybe ten years younger

than Otis, pulls the plug from the jukebox near where she's

scrubbing bloodstains off the floor. She turns to look at

the newcomer--

BAR:

Del doesn't move to come closer --

DEL:

Black Seminoles?

OTIS:

(Shrugs)

Hobby of mine. Got some artifacts,

couple pieces one of your men out

at the base made. Free admission.

Del nods toward where Carolyn is mopping--

DEL:

That where he was shot?

OTIS:

That's where he fell.

DEL:

You get much of that in here?

OTIS:

It's a bar. People come together,

drink, fall in love, fall out of

love, air their grudges out--

DEL:

Deal drugs in the bathroom--

OTIS:

If I thought it would help I'd

put up a sign telling them not

to. Right under the one about

the employees washing their hands.

Carolyn has come over by Otis, lugging the bucket and mop--

OTIS:

This here's Carolyn. Honey, this

is my son, Delmore.

DEL:

Nice to meet you, Ma'am.

Carolyn nods, shoots a look to Otis--

CAROLYN:

I'll be in back waiting for that

delivery.

They wail till she is gone to start again--

OTIS:

So.

DEL:

So tell me why I shouldn't make

this place off-limits.

OTIS:

This is an official visit, then--

DEL:

I assume a lot of your business

is from our people.

Otis pulls a tap back and it coughs before squirting beer

OTIS:

Your boys out there cooped up

together, need somewhere they can

let the steam out. If they're

Black, there's not but one place

in this town they feel welcome.

Been that way since before you

were born.

DEL:

We have an enlisted man's club at

the post.

OTIS:

Well, you're the Man out there

now, aren't you? It's your call.

DEL:

That's right.

OTIS:

(Smiles)

I been hearing rumors about this

new commander coming for a couple

weeks now. Boys say they heard

he's a real hard case. Spit-and-

polish man. Full-bird colonel

name of Payne, they say-- Bet you

never figured you end up back

here.

DEL:

The Army hands you a command, you

go wherever it is.

OTIS:

Right.

DEL:

I hear things, too. People call

you the Mayor of Darktown.

OTIS:

(Shrugs)

Over the years, this is the one

place that's always been there.

I loan a little money out, settle

some arguments. Got a cot in the

back-people get afraid to go home

they can spend the night. Ther-

e's not enough of us to run

anything in this town-the white

people are mostly out on the lake

now and the Mexicans hire each

other. There's the Holiness Church

and there's Big O's place.

DEL:

And people make their choice--

OTIS:

(Smiles))

A lot of 'em choose both. There's

not like a borderline between the

good people and the bad people--

you're not either on one side or

the other--

Del looks away, not wanting to believe this--

OTIS:

(Softly)

I gonna meet that family of yours?

DEL:

Why would you want to do that?

OTIS:

Because I'm your father.

Del gives him a dark look and lets the statement hang between

them. He gets up and heads for the door--

DEL:

You'll get official notification

when I make my decision.

He is out the door--

Otis pulls himself a beer as Carolyn steps back out--

CAROLYN:

So that's him--

OTIS:

Yeah--that's him. Got two, three

thousand people under him out

there, you count the civilians.

CAROLYN:

That must be a laugh a minute.

EXT. SAN JACINTO STREET -- DAY

Sam walks down the main street of town. A CROWD is gathering

at the other end for the ceremony--

H.L. (O.S.)

Sheriff!

We WIDEN as H.L. and Jorge catch up to him. H.L. slaps

Sam on the back --

H.L.

Historic occasion, isn't it?

SAM:

Seems like we have another one

every week.

H.L.

Jorge and his Chamber of Commerce

boys got to keep things hummin'--

JORGE:

We're building up tourism, Sam--

SAM:

People come here to catch bass

and to get laid at the Boy's Town

in Cuidad Leon--

JORGE:

Sam--

SAM:

You ought to put up a banner--

"Frontera, Texas: Gateway to Cut-

Rate P*ssy"--

H.L.

That kind of talk doesn't help,

Sam.

SAM:

Rather have that than the ten-

foot-high catfish statue--

JORGE:

I got Eddie Richter at the Sentinel

to kill that story.

SAM:

The Perdido thing?

JORGE:

He agreed it wasn't exactly news--

SAM:

Danny's gonna be out for blood

the next time.

H.L.

Which is why we need to talk to

you about the new jail--just so

we're all on the same page.

SAM:

We don't need a new jail.

H.L.

That's a matter of interpretation--

SAM:

We're already renting cells to

the Feds for their overflow--

JORGE:

There was a mandate in the last

election--

SAM:

It wouldn't happen to be your

construction company gonna get

the bid on building this thing,

would it, H.L. And Jorge, you

wouldn't be thinking about a couple

dozen new jobs to dangle in front

of the voters--

H.L.

Dammit, Sam, the people are

concerned about crime--

SAM:

We need a drug rehab program, we

need a new elementary school--

JORGE:

There isn't money allocated for

that. But a jail--

SAM:

Look, I'm not gonna campaign

against your deal here, but if

anybody asks me, I got to tell

them the truth. We--don't--need--

a new jail.

H.L.

When we backed you--

SAM:

When you backed me you needed

somebody named Deeds to bump the

other fella out of office. Hey,

folks--

Sam and the others smile as they reach the CROWD of

townspeople, mostly small business owners and retired people.

Photographers from the paper and a local TV news crew wait

by a veiled Statue roped off in a little traffic island.

Mercedes, dressed to kill, stands waiting next to Hollis

with a huge pair of scissors in her hand.

CU MERCEDES:

Slowly working the blades of the scissors, she looks coldly

at Sam--

CU SAM:

He nods to her as the crowd opens a path for him.

SAM:

Let's get this thing over with.

INT. MIKEY'S WORKSHOP -- MORNING

We start on a two-foot-high statue of a cowboy made from old

bullets and shell casings. We PAN past a few others, the

poses lifted from Frederic Remington paintings, till we see

Mikey, gluing together a work in progress, a Remington book

propped open in front of him. Cliff sits at the worktable

playing absently with the old bullets spilled out from MIKEY'S

bag

MIKEY:

Never thought I'd see the day a

buddy of mine was dating a woman

with three up and three down on

her shoulder.

CLIFF:

I think it's beyond what you'd

call dating.

MIKEY:

You going to get married?

CLIFF:

(Shrugs)

Maybe.

MIKEY:

You met her family? They gonna

be cool about you being a white

guy?

CLIFF:

Priscilla says they think any

woman over 30 who isn't married

must be a lesbian. She figures

they'll be so relieved I'm a man--

MIKEY:

Always heartwarming to see a

prejudice defeated by a deeper

prejudice. But marriage, man--I

did two tours in Southeast Asia

and I was married for five years--

I couldn't tell you which

experience was worse.

Cliff picks up a slug--

CLIFF:

Hey, Mikey--

MIKEY:

I knew she was Japanese going

into it, but she didn't tell me

the ninja assassin part--

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