Lost Souls Page #12

PETER:

(really pissed off)

Last night a guy named John Townsend

tried to shoot me and now I find out you

knew him. What the f*** is going on?

MAYA:

Please, the children.

Peter moves in close, crowding her against the wall.

PETER:

(lowering his voice)

Why did he try to kill me?

MAYA:

(looking at classroom)

Townsend believed, just as God became

man in Christ.

(Maya turns back to Peter)

So Satan will assume human form. I

believe it too.

Peter grabs the pictures out of her hand and pitches them

into the hall.

PETER:

And the point is?

MAYA:

At the exorcism, Birdson boasted that

Satan is about to take over the body of

a man.

(long pause)

You are that man, Peter.

PETER:

What?!?!

MAYA:

It's true. Birdson knew your name, he

was writing it in numerical code. It

wasn't easy but I figured it out. It

spelled your name.

PETER:

(sarcastic)

Why didn't Birdson just say so?

MAYA:

If you're possessed, you can't reveal

anything Satan wants hidden. Unless you

trick him.

PETER:

(now completely unimpressed)

Trick him.

MAYA:

The good outwitting the bad. It's like

Birdson had a split personality.

PETER:

(he's had it; laughs)

You should think about getting

professional help.

MAYA:

You're already contaminated. It's why

you couldn't hear the tape. There's

probably a pentacle near your bed. To

sanctify you.

PETER:

I'm not going to be drawn into this.

MAYA:

I know this sounds crazy. I understand.

Check your parents' blood types. Are

you sure your parents are your birth

parents?

PETER:

My parents are dead. Don't even think

of bringing them into this.

The school bell rings. Within seconds, the hallway is

flooded with kids and teachers.

A smiling Father Frank stops out of a classroom. As he sees

Maya and Peter down the hall, his face darkens. He starts

towards them.

MAYA:

(moving to Peter; whisper)

You're about to become the anti-Christ

who is born unholy and becomes the door

to eternal suffering in this world.

PETER:

(pissed off at himself now)

If you or any of your lunatic friends

ever come near me again...

Peter notices Father Frank moving up on Maya and takes off.

EXT. STREET - OUTSIDE SEMINARY - DAY

An angry Peter walks to his Range Rover. The wind is up and

it has started to rain. Peter's under-dressed, hunching his

shoulders against the elements. He's parked a distance from

the Seminary. As he begins a slow jog to his car, the rain

begins to come down a bit harder. Suddenly, Peter slips on

the wet pavement and falls, scraping his hand. A moment,

while he gets his bearings and then he picks himself up, the

rain now shooting down the side of his face.

INT. MAYA'S ROOM IN THE SEMINARY - CONTINUOUS

An anxious Maya sits at her desk. Suddenly, there's a hard

knock on the door and Father Frank enters. Maya looks up,

unprepared.

FATHER FRANK:

I've had it. Townsend's dead. The

police are calling and now I see you

having a scene in front of the children.

I'm sorry, Maya, you've been with us for

many years, but effective immediately,

I'm rescinding your right to live at the

church.

MAYA:

Father, I have nowhere else to stay.

FATHER FRANK:

You have a sister in New Orleans.

Maya looks up at him, but Father Frank's out the door.

INT. FATHER LAREAUX'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Father Lareaux sleeps quietly, quasi fetal. Maya moves to

the room soundlessly. A renewed sadness stabs her at the

sight of Lareaux. She studies him a moment, then cups his

face in her hands. Slight disturbance in Lareaux's body,

like a child's startle reaction. Maya lets go and leaves as

quietly as she came.

INT. ITALIAN RESTAURANT - DAY

Upscale. Claire and Peter at lunch. Peter is clearly

agitated. His clothes are still wet and pretty wrinkled.

Claire looks at him with tenderness.

PETER:

I'm gonna have to get a restraining

order. What a nightmare.

CLAIRE:

I don't know. In a way, I'm glad it all

happened.

Peter looks at her skeptically, a little pissed off.

PETER:

You're glad somebody tried to kill me?

CLAIRE:

(nervous about confronting him)

No, of course not, but I think now that

this has happened, a lot of things can

start to come out...

PETER:

(still pissed)

Yeah, like...

CLAIRE:

(coming on a little stronger)

Like you need to admit that losing your

parents when you were twelve was

traumatic.

PETER:

(unafraid)

It's with me all the time, Claire, I

just don't like to talk about it.

CLAIRE:

Well, it shattered your faith in

everything.

PETER:

(trying to lighten it)

I'm just temporarily off my game.

CLAIRE:

(boring in)

You need to believe in something besides

yourself.

PETER:

I believe in you.

A moment where Claire hesitates, then she decides to let

herself be flattered.

CLAIRE:

(leaning in, close to Peter)

I love you. You look a mess.

Why don't you go home and clean up

before you go back to work.

Claire kisses Peter, brief but deep, as she gulps in a short

gust of air.

Outside the rain has stopped as Claire gets up, taking off

for work without him.

EXT. STREET - OUTSIDE SEMINARY - DAY

Maya is sitting on an iron bench outside the playground. A

shoulder bag with some of her belongings lays beside her.

She stands, picks up her sack and walks across the street to

a small diner.

INT. DINER - DAY

It's warm, crowded and NOISY. WAITRESSES banter with

longtime customers about the ups and downs of everyday life.

Maya enters in a state of complete distress. She sits at the

counter next to a MOTHER and her LITTLE GIRL. Their drinks

and sandwiches are spread out everywhere. The little girl

cusp her hand around a tall glass of milk. She wears black

patent shoes, a red jacket, hood attached. Maya bows her

head and covers her eyes. She's losing it...

MAYA:

(whisper)

I can't do this anymore.

The little girl, about 4 years old, tugs on Maya's sleeve.

LITTLE GIRL:

You have to put your napkin in your lap.

MOTHER:

(embarrassed)

Gina!

Maya looks at the solemn little girl.

MAYA:

(to her mother)

It's okay.

(she puts her napkin in her

lap)

Better?

MOTHER:

I'm sorry, she's very into rules.

LITTLE GIRL:

Doesn't your daughter put her napkin in

her lap?

MAYA:

(softly)

I don't have a daughter. I'm not

married.

LITTLE GIRL:

Aren't you lonely?

MOTHER:

Okay, Gina, that's enough.

Maya sees the little girl wants an answer. Moved, she bends

close and whispers in her ear.

MAYA:

I have someone who takes care of me.

She pulls back. The little girl looks up at Maya

reprovingly.

LITTLE GIRL:

(cruelly)

But he's dead. Jesus is dead.

And then she smiles at Maya, a wicked smile. Maya looks at

the little girl, and then at her mother. The mother's eyes

are sparkling with malice. The room begins to warp and

distort. And we hear a choked back breath.

Horrified, Maya quickly turns in her chair and faces away

from the vision, praying silently with eyes closed. After a

moment, she opens her eyes. The room looks normal again. In

the reflection of the mirror across the counter she sees that

the two seats next to her are empty, the utensils untouched.

Sighing with relief, she turns back. But the little girl and

her mother are still there. The mother's face suddenly looks

elongated, her eyes move too close together and her nose

disappears. A frightening distortion, but momentary. And

the little girl's smile widens with spite.

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