No Country for Old Men Page #14

WELLS:

You go to hell.

A beat.

CHIGURH:

Let me ask you something. If the

rule you followed brought you to

this, of what use was the rule?

Another beat.

WELLS:

Do you have any idea how goddamn

crazy you are?

CHIGURH:

You mean the nature of this

conversation?

WELLS:

I mean the nature of you.

Chigurh looks at him equably. Wells holds his look.

WELLS:

...You can have the money. Anton.

The phone rings.

Wells looks at the phone. Chigurh hasn't moved.

Wells looks at Chigurh, waiting for a decision.

The low chug of the shotgun.

Aside from his finger on the trigger, Chigurh hasn't moved.

He sits staring at Wells's remains for a beat.

Now his look swings onto the phone. He watches it ring twice

more.

He picks it up and listens without speaking.

After a beat:

MOSS'S VOICE

...Hello?

CHIGURH:

Yes?

Another beat.

MOSS'S VOICE

Is Carson Wells there.

A longer beat.

CHIGURH:

Not in the sense that you mean.

Moss doesn't answer. Chigurh gives him a beat, and then:

CHIGURH:

...You need to come see me.

MEXICAN HOSPITAL WARD - NIGHT

We intercut Moss, in his hospital robe, at a public phone on

the ward. He stands tensed with the phone to his ear. Finally:

MOSS:

Who is this.

CHIGURH:

You know who it is.

A beat.

CHIGURH:

...You need to talk to me.

MOSS:

I don't need to talk to you.

CHIGURH:

I think that you do. Do you know

where I'm going?

MOSS:

Why would I care where you're going.

CHIGURH:

Do you know where I'm going?

No answer.

INT. 2ND HOTEL EAGLE ROOM - NIGHT

Chigurh c*cks his head, noticing something on the floor. He

adjusts to sit back and raise his boots onto the bed.

On the floor where his feet were, blood is pooling out from

Wells's chair.

CHIGURH:

...I know where you are.

MOSS:

Yeah? Where am I?

CHIGURH:

You're in the hospital across the

river. But that's not where I'm going.

Do you know where I'm going?

MOSS:

Yeah. I know where you're going.

CHIGURH:

All right.

MOSS:

You know she won't be there.

CHIGURH:

It doesn't make any difference where

she is.

MOSS:

So what're you goin' up there for.

A beat.

CHIGURH:

You know how this is going to turn

out, don't you?

MOSS:

No. Do you?

CHIGURH:

Yes, I do. I think you do too. So

this is what I'll offer. You bring

me the money and I'll let her go.

Otherwise she's accountable. The

same as you. That's the best deal

you're going to get. I won't tell

you you can save yourself because

you can't.

MOSS:

Yeah I'm goin' to bring you somethin'

all right. I've decided to make you

a special project of mine. You ain't

goin' to have to look for me at all.

Moss slams the phone onto its hook, then slams it twice more

for good measure.

Chigurh, in the hotel room, cradles his phone.

INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY

Sheriff Bell sits at his usual booth, but with an unaccustomed

look:
reading glasses. He has been looking at a newspaper

but is now peering over his glasses up at Wendell who

apparently interrupted his reading.

BELL:

The motel in Del Rio?

Wendell nods.

WENDELL:

Yessir. None of the three had ID on

'em but they're tellin' me all three

is Mexicans. Was Mexicans.

BELL:

There's a question. Whether they

stopped bein'. And when.

WENDELL:

Yessir.

BELL:

Now, Wendell, did you inquire about

the cylinder lock?

WENDELL:

Yessir. It was punched out.

BELL:

Okay.

WENDELL:

You gonna drive out there?

BELL:

No, that's the only thing I would've

looked for. And it sounds like these

boys died of natural causes.

WENDELL:

How's that, Sheriff?

BELL:

Natural to the line of work they was

in.

WENDELL:

Yessir.

BELL:

My lord, Wendell, it's just all-out

war. I don't know any other word

for it. Who are these folks? I don't

know...

He rattles the paper.

BELL:

...Here last week they found this

couple out in California they would

rent out rooms to old people and

then kill em and bury em in the yard

and cash their social security checks.

They'd torture em first, I don't

know why. Maybe their television set

was broke. And this went on until,

and here I quote...

He looks through his glasses at the paper.

BELL:

..."Neighbors were alerted when a

man ran from the premises wearing

only a dog collar." You can't make

up such a thing as that. I dare you

to even try.

He peers over his glasses at Wendell who respectfully shakes

his head and tsks.

Sheriff Bell rattles the paper again.

BELL:

...But that's what it took, you'll

notice. Get someone's attention.

Diggin graves in the back yard didn't

bring any.

Wendell bites back a smile. Sheriff Bell gazes at him over

his glasses for a long beat, deadpan.

BELL:

...That's all right. I laugh myself

sometimes.

He goes back to the paper.

BELL:

...There ain't a whole lot else you

can do.

EXT. BORDER SHACK - DAY

Moss, a coat thrown over his hospital robe, is standing before

a uniformed INS official on the Rio Grande bridge.

The official, who looks like a marine drill instructor, is

chewing. He chews for a long beat, staring at Moss.

He finally spits tobacco juice and pats his lower lip with a

handkerchief.

OFFICIAL:

Who do you think gets through this

gate into the United States of

America?

MOSS:

I don't know. American citizens.

OFFICIAL:

Some American citizens. Who do you

think decides?

MOSS:

You do, I reckon.

OFFICIAL:

That is correct. And how do I decide?

MOSS:

I don't know.

OFFICIAL:

I ask questions. If I get sensible

answers then they get to go to

America. If I don't get sensible

answers they don't. Is there anything

about that that you don't understand?

MOSS:

No sir.

OFFICIAL:

Then I ask you again how you come to

be out here with no clothes.

MOSS:

I got an overcoat on.

OFFICIAL:

Are you jackin' with me?

MOSS:

No sir.

OFFICIAL:

Don't jack with me.

MOSS:

Yes sir.

OFFICIAL:

Are you in the service?

MOSS:

No sir. I'm a veteran.

OFFICIAL:

Nam?

MOSS:

Yes sir. Two tours.

OFFICIAL:

What outfit.

MOSS:

Twelfth Infantry Batallion. August

seventh nineteen and sixty-six to

July second nineteen and sixty-eight.

The official stares at him, chewing, sour.

OFFICIAL:

Wilson!

GUARD:

Yessir.

OFFICIAL:

Get someone to help this man. He

needs to get into town.

INT. GENERAL STORE - DAY

The clerk who earlier sold him the boots:

CLERK:

How those Larries holdin' up?

Moss is walking up in his boots and overcoat and hospital

robe.

MOSS:

Good. I need everything else.

CLERK:

Okay.

MOSS:

You get a lot of people come in here

with no clothes on?

CLERK:

No sir, it's unusual.

EXT. RIVER BANK - DAY

We are looking across the Rio Grande. Moss appears over the

near edge of the river bank, newly clothed, and holding the

document case.

As he reaches the top of the bank he frowns and twists his

neck, responding to an irritation. He feels around with his

free hand inside the back of the shirt collar. A sharp yank.

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