Pleasantville Page #18

PARKER LIVING ROOM.

George wanders through the empty and darkened house

completely perplexed and utterly disoriented. He looks around

for his family, but all he can find are the darkened rooms

and the sound of the driving storm.

GEORGE:

(a little frightened/

a little petulant)

Honey, I'm home ...

He still can't find her and he crosses into the DINING ROOM.

The lights are dark there as well and he looks around

confused.

GEORGE (CONT)

(baffled)

Where's my dinner?

He sniffs a couple of times but there are no familiar cooking

smells. George flings open the door to the kitchen but that's

empty as well.

KITCHEN.

He crosses into the darkness ...

GEORGE:

Where's my dinner ...

INT. FOYER.

George comes reeling out of the kitchen into the foyer. He

slams his shin on the coatrack but keeps on going ...

GEORGE:

(insistent)

Where's my DINNER ...

EXT. HOUSE.

It's really blowing now. The rain is coming down in heavy

sheets, being swirled and driven by the wind. The front door

opens and George wanders out onto the front porch, still

dressed in his shirtsleeves.

GEORGE:

Where's my DINNER!

ON GEORGE.

He stumbles down the front walk in a state of complete

confusion. The rain pounds against his body and within

seconds his shirt is soaked through to the skin.

GEORGE:

(over the storm)

WHERE'S MY DINNER ...

EXT. ELM STREET.

A tree limb crashes to the ground but he keeps stumbling

through the torrent. George reels down Elm Street screaming

skyward in the distance.

GEORGE:

... WHERE'S MY DINNER! WHERE'S MY

DINNER!

SERIES OF SHOTS. FOLLOWING GEORGE ...

He turns on Main Street and goes reeling past the insurance

agency where he works. George howls into the wind and he

passes the hardware store, the gas station, the bakery ...

Finally he pauses outside the barbershop. It's empty as well

with the spinning barber pole being buffeted by the rain.

George lowers his arms and just stares into the darkened

shop. His voice grows quieter bewildered and shivering ...

GEORGE:

(plaintively)

Where's my dinner?

He wraps his arms around himself and shivers on the sidewalk.

INT. BOWLING ALLEY. NIGHT.

The regular occupants of the barber shop spread out across

three lanes. Each wears a Pleasantville bowling shirt,

sponsored by one of Big Bob's businesses.

The NOISE from the crashing pins is deafening and there

aren't any windows so the storm has gone unnoticed ...

ANGLE. BIG BOB.

He picks up a 7-10 split and claps his hands in delight. He

starts to cross back to the scorer's table when he looks up

and suddenly stops.

REVERSE ANGLE. HIS POV.

George is standing in the doorway to the bowling alley cold

and shivering. His shirt is soaked through to the skin. His

hair is drenched and dripping.

BOB:

What happened?

He doesn't answer. George clutches his body and keeps

shivering.

WIDER.

The men stop bowling and rush to George's side. He blinks a

couple of times, still soaked to the bone.

BOB:

Are you alright?

(looking at him)

What is it?

GEORGE:

(faintly)

Rain.

BOB:

(beat)

Real rain?

George nods. Bob rushes to the glass door of the bowling

alley and sees the driving storm. A huge fork of lightning

lights up the sky.

BOB (CONT)

Oh my God ...

He turns back to George.

BOB (CONT)

... We had no idea. Burt was rolling

a 250 and ...

(beat)

Are you alright?

George shivers and Bobs leads him over to one of the benches

and guides him into the seat ...

BOB (CONT)

What happened?

GEORGE:

(still shivering)

Well, I ... I came home like I always

do, And I came in the front door. And

I took off my coat. And I put down my

briefcase and I said "Honey. I'm home."

ANGLE. MEN.

They all nod in recognition.

ANGLE. GEORGE.

GEORGE:

... Only no one was there.

A MURMUR goes through the men.

GEORGE (CONT)

So I went into the kitchen and I

yelled it again. "Honey--I'm home."

But there was no one there either.

No wife. No lights. No dinner.

They all GASP.

GEORGE (CONT)

So I went to the oven--you know--

because I thought maybe she had made

me one of those "TV dinners ..."

The men nod and lean forward. George shakes his head.

GEORGE (CONT)

But she hadn't. She was gone.

A LOUDER MURMUR moves through the crowd. George lowers his

head and just shakes it from side to side. Big Bob moves up

and puts a hand on his shoulder.

BOB:

(gently/

the patriarch)

... It's gonna be fine George.

George looks up at him helplessly. Bob pats him reassuringly

on the back.

GUS:

What do we do Bob?

BOB:

Well--we'll be safe for now--thank

goodness we're in a bowling alley--

but if George here doesn't get his

dinner, any one of us could be next.

It could be you Gus, or you Burt, or

even you Phil ...

They murmur again. Bob gathers a little steam.

BOB (CONT)

(like a WWII movie)

... That's real rain out there

gentlemen. This isn't some little

"virus" that's going to "clear up on

it's own." There's something

happening to our town and I think we

can all see where it comes from.

They nod in agreement.

BOB (CONT)

We're gonna need a town meeting.

Phil, how fast can you turn around

a leaflet in your print shop?

PHIL:

Couple of hours.

BOB:

Gus, why don't you get a bunch of

kids from the basketball team to help

you put them up on lamposts and tree

trunks ...

Gus nods. Big Bob turns to George and smiles. It's a warm,

patriarchal smile. He claps a hand on George's shoulder.

BOB (CONT)

(soothingly)

And the first thing you're gonna do

is get a cup of hot cocoa and a nice

dry bowling shirt.

INT. SODA SHOP. NIGHT.

The rain still pounds out the window. Betty and Mr. Johnson

are huddled in one of the booths watching the deluge through

Mr. Johnson's snow scene in the window. Betty is in soft

radiant color now. Almost the whole frame seems to glow

pink ...

MR. JOHNSON

You can't go out there.

BETTY:

But I really should get home.

MR. JOHNSON

But you can't go out there.

There is another fork of lightning and a booming peel of

THUNDER. Betty sighs. She's past struggling. Betty shuts her

eyes for a moment and listens to the rain pounding on the

roof.

BETTY:

Sounds nice ... Once you get used

to it.

MR. JOHNSON

(listening)

Yeah. It does.

There is another flash and a loud BOOM. Betty smiles this

time.

BETTY:

Like a drum.

MR. JOHNSON

Yeah.

(thinks)

Or like sprinklers in the summer ...

Betty smiles. They both listen for a moment and the fear

seems to fade a little. The RAIN POUNDS harder on the roof as

Betty nestles down in the booth, a little closer to Mr.

Johnson. They just sit there listening for a moment or two.

Betty starts to smile ...

EXT. LOVER'S LANE.

David huddles with Margaret under the rocky ledge as she

nestles against him with her head on his shoulder.

INT. JENNIFER'S ROOM.

She lies on her bed, still reading the book, the spitting

image of Mary Sue. Her hair is up in a bun now. The glasses

have slipped down her nose. There is another fork of

lightning and the LOUDEST THUNDER CLAP of all. Jennifer

smiles slightly and pulls Mary Sue's afghan over her

shoulders as she fluffs the pillow and turns the page.

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