Pale Blue Dot Page #8

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In fact, Laura doesn’t realize something’s off until she’s

all the way to the end of the aisle.

LAURA (CONT’D)

Boys?-

-- Laura turns to find Neil and Ed, standing in the middle of

the aisle, elbow-deep in a torn open bright purple cereal

box. They laugh through mouthfuls of sugar.

Laura sighs heavily and closes her eyes. Just as she opens

them we-

CUT TO:

A BOWLING BALL ARCING THROUGH THE AIR-

INT. SUGARLAND LANES - NIGHT

-- landing on a waxed lane, headed directly for a triangle of

pins-

--CRASH -

-- the pins wobble and collapse but don’t all fall. There’s a

nasty spare to be picked up.

LAURA:

Damn it.

Laura’s bowling, and clearly not doing the best job. Off by

the ball return, Mark pals around with PETE HOFSTRA and JIM

MENDELSON, two other astronauts.

Jim takes a moment to rib Laura-

JIM:

Now why would you go and do that?

LAURA:

I meant to do it, Jim.

43.

Mark takes a swig from his Yuengling and hops up to Laura.

MARK:

Care for some pointers, ma’am?

LAURA:

That depends. You have any idea

what you’re talking about?

Mark smiles.

MARK:

I practically invented this game.

Mark gets up close to Laura, cupping her arms in his---

he draws her arm back and forth in large, slow practice

throws.

MARK (CONT’D)

The trick is adding a slight twist

at the end there. You see?

Laura smiles. She’s enjoying this moment of closeness.

LAURA:

That’s your secret?

MARK:

That’s my secret.

Pete cups his hand to his mouth.

PETE:

His secret is that he’s hammered!

MARK:

Oh, that’s no secret at all.

Mark heads back to his beer but not before calling out to

Laura:

MARK (CONT’D)

Remember what I told you!

Laura steps up to the line. She takes a deep breath before

heaving the ball down the lane and---

PICKING UP THE SPARE!

The other astronauts cheer wildly. Laura gives Mark a high

five.

44.

MARK (CONT’D)

Go on. Say it.

LAURA:

You’re the best.

MARK:

And now, the best in action.

Mark grabs a ball and approaches the line. He tosses it down

the lane where it-

-- promptly lands in the gutter.

Laura can’t help but laugh.

INT. SUGARLAND LANES - LATER

The astronauts are shooting the sh*t around a table, postgame.

Mark swings by, placing an armful of beers on the

table.

MARK:

As requested:
five Yuenglings.

JIM:

And only four of us.

Mark gives himself an extra beer, feigns surprise:

MARK:

Oh no-- how could this have

happened?

PETE AND JIM:

Must’ve been a rounding error.

Laura laughs.

JIM:

Ah, so that’s why he brought you

along. Someone to laugh at that old

joke.

MARK:

The only old joke here is you, my

friend.

LAURA:

Ouch.

Mark gives Jim a playful shove.

45.

MARK:

Oh, don’t worry about it. These

guys love me.

PETE:

I can assure you, we don’t.

MARK:

We go way back. We got called up

together. Pete was with me on the

Discovery. Jim’s still waiting for

his shot.

This is obviously a sore spot for Jim::

JIM:

Thanks for the reminder.

LAURA:

Oh, you’ll get up there. It’ll

happen.

JIM:

It better. Or I’m going to have to

blow my f***ing brains out.

There’s a hint of misery in Jim’s voice. He’s joking, sure,

but there’s more than a bit of truth to it.

MARK:

Okay. Enough of your moping. I was

just saying how close we are. How

you guys know all my dirty secrets.

PETE:

Like the crying incident.

MARK:

Oh jeez-

Without thinking, Laura grabs Mark’s hand-

LAURA:

What crying incident? I need to

hear this.

He looks at her, a little surprised. Laura, realizing what’s

happened, takes her hand back.

MARK:

Well, since you asked so nicely-

Mark takes a sip of his beer. He pauses for dramatic effect

before starting his story:

46.

MARK (CONT’D)

Four years ago. Atlantis-- ISS

Science module, real b*tch of a

job. Three spacewalks, twenty-three

hours of work.

LAURA:

Jesus.

MARK:

I’m on the third walk, just about

to finish up, when-- you know that

defogging solution they put on the

visors?

Laura makes a disgusted face.

LAURA:

Oh God, yes. Smells like fish.

MARK:

Bingo. Well, my cooling system goes

on the fritz and all of the sudden

I’m starting to sweat. I end up

getting a bit of the defogger in my

left eye.

PETE:

That’s what he claims. I still

maintain he was crying because he’s

a big puss-

(remembering there’s a

lady present)

Sorry, Laura.

LAURA:

Nothing I haven’t heard before, you

dumb c*nt.

The guys are momentarily stunned by this but then burst into

laughter. She’s doing a great job fitting in and Mark loves

it.

MARK:

See? What’d I tell you? She’s one

of the good ones. Now, where was I?

LAURA:

Defogger in your left eye.

MARK:

Right. Burns like hell. My eyes are

watering. And you know space--

things are weird. Tears don’t fall.

(MORE)

47.

MARK (CONT'D)

They just hang there in your eye

sockets. And it’s not like you can

just reach up and wipe them away.

JIM:

Not unless you want it to be the

last thing you ever do.

MARK:

I’m blind. I’m overheating. I’m

just out there and I have no idea

what my surroundings are.

Laura looks sick-- this isn’t the sort of story she wanted to

hear.

LAURA:

How’d you make it out?

MARK:

Was able to shake the tears from my

eyes and pull myself back into the

cargo bay.

Laura lets this sink in.

LAURA:

Everything is so fragile.

MARK:

Yeah, but what a ride.

EXT. PEPPER HOUSE - MIDNIGHT

Mark’s large truck rolls up the driveway.

He turns to Laura, seated beside him and clearly a little

tipsy-

MARK:

Nice place.

LAURA:

It’s home.

With some effort, Laura forces her door open and works to

pour herself out of the pickup.

Mark gets out too, hurrying around to the passenger side.

He makes an exaggerated bow, holding his hand our for Laura

to take-

48.

MARK:

M’lady.

Laura laughs, taking Mark’s hand and returning the gesture

with a regal nod.

LAURA:

Such a gentleman.

On her way out of the truck, Laura SLIPS, falling right onto

Mark.

He catches her, stopping the fall. They both crack up.

MARK:

Still don’t have those Earth legs,

huh?

LAURA:

I’m just drunk.

Laura regains her footing, bracing herself against Mark as

she gets her balance.

She looks up at the house, wistful-

LAURA (CONT’D)

I don’t think my family wants me

back up there.

MARK:

What’d you tell them?

LAURA:

I told them the truth.

MARK:

That you’re going?

LAURA:

That I need a break.

Mark doesn’t answer at first. He frowns slightly at the house

before offering:

MARK:

They just don’t get it, do they?

Laura laughs a short, bitter laugh. She doesn’t want to talk

about this right now.

LAURA:

Can I get a cigarette?

49.

Mark pulls out his softpack and removes a pair of cigarettes.

Laura stops him-LAURA

(CONT’D)

No. Let’s just share one.

Mark smiles. He lights the cigarette, taking a long drag

before handing it off to Laura.

The two of them lean against the pickup, looking skyward.

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