Signs Page #9

Graham steps out the driver's side and looks around. Merrill

puts change in the meter.

Morgan walks up to Graham with Bo.

MORGAN:

Book money.

Morgan holds out his hand. Graham gives his son a look as he

reaches into his back pocket.

GRAHAM:

Only one.

Morgan takes the money Graham gives him, then takes Bo's

hand and walks down the sidewalk.

Graham watches them turn into a store.

Merrill steps onto the sidewalk. Hands in his pockets as he

walks away.

Graham turns and calls after him.

GRAHAM:

(calls out)

Meet back in fifteen minutes.

Merrill waves over his shoulder. He keeps walking.

Graham starts across the street to the pharmacy.

CUT TO:

INT. NATHAN'S BOOKSTORE - AFTERNOON

A mom and pop bookstore. Three isles wide. MR. AND MRS.

NATHAN, a couple in their early seventies, sit behind their

counter and watch a black and white TV. The PICTURE ON THE

TELEVISION IS OF A WHEAT FIELD. THREE ENORMOUS TRIANGLES

SURROUND A CIRCLE.

Morgan steps up to the counter.

MORGAN:

Extraterrestrials?

MR. NATHAN

That's what they keep alluding to.

It's just a bunch of crock. They're

trying to sell sodas, plain and

simple. I've been watching these

reports since morning. I've seen

twelve soda commercials so far.

Twelve!

MORGAN:

Do you have book on extraterrestrials?

MR. NATHAN

Don't tell me you believe this horse

manure?

Morgan shrugs. Mrs. Nathan pushes her husband aside.

MRS. NATHAN

As a matter of fact, I think we have

one. Came by mistake in a shipment.

Decided to keep it for city people.

Mrs. Nathan points over to the far corner.

MRS. NATHAN

Last row. Third book from the left

honey.

CUT TO:

INT. PHARMACY - AFTERNOON

Graham waits at a white counter. A gum chewing PHARMACIST in

her early twenties, who looks like she's in her teens, glances

through back shelves of medicines as she listens to the radio.

RADIO HOST (V.O.)

Why is no one saying the obvious?

This is just a rash case of copycats.

Someone, somewhere, does the first

one. It's on TV, it's on the internet.

In less than an hour a couple hundred

people get the same brilliant idea

and here we are... on the verge of

mass hysteria.

PHARMACIST:

It was asthma medicine right Father?

GRAHAM:

For Morgan Hess. And it's not Father

anymore.

The Pharmacist looks back at Graham and then reaches up and

TURNS OFF THE RADIO. She quietly finds the prescription on

the shelf and moves to the counter across from Graham.

She doesn't ring it up. She just stands there fiddling with

the bag holding Morgan's medicine. Beat.

PHARMACIST:

Can I ask you a favor Father?

Graham stares at the girl. Beat. He nods "yes."

PHARMACIST:

Can I take confession with you?

Beat. Graham leans forward on the counter and takes the girl's

hands in his. He talks very slowly.

GRAHAM:

Tracey, I -- am -- not -- a --

reverend -- anymore. I haven't been

for six months. You know this.

Beat. When Tracey speaks her VOICE IS A BIT SHAKY.

TRACEY:

All this stuff on TV...

(beat)

Joe Gills was in here talking about

the end of the world... I'm just a

little scared.

(beat)

Please. I need to take confession

with you.

Graham looks at the young girl's teary eyes. He exhales

slowly.

CUT TO:

INT. ARMY RECRUITING OFFICE - AFTERNOON

Merrill stares up at a poster with a muscular guy in an Army

uniform standing at attention on a beach.

We are in a narrow ARMY RECRUITING CENTER. Inside the small

storefront space is a desk. A gentleman sporting a CREWCUT

sits behind it.

A young man, Merrill's age, sits at a side card table filling

out some forms.

CREWCUT GUY:

I got it figured.

Merrill realizes the crewcut guy is talking to him.

MERRILL:

You do?

CREWCUT GUY:

I've had two separate folks tell me

they think there are strangers around

these parts the last couple of nights.

Can't tell what they look like, cause

they're staying in the shadows --

covert like. No one's got hurt mind

you... And that's the give away.

MERRILL:

(doesn't see)

I see.

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