Silver Bullet Page #8

PETE:

You heard what I said, motormouth.

ANDY gets up, infuriated. There's apparently going to be a

brawl. Behind them, HERB KINCAID has approached the table.

HERB hasn't even noticed what's going on; he's got problems

of his own.

INT. HERB KINCAID

He clears his throat. This is a mild, timid man- he doesn't

like to speak in public, particularly not in a bar, but the

imperatives of the situation demand it right now.

HERB (quite loudly)

Has anyone in here seen my son Brady?

INT. THE PUB, A NEW ANGLE

Everyone looks at HERB. Conversation stops. ANDY and PETE

freeze with their fists balled up, like little kids playing

statues tag. OWEN is caught a little distance from ANDY and

PETE, with the "peacemaker" still in his hands.

EXT. THE TOWN COMMON, LONG

Now it is almost completely dark, and a large reddish summer

moon is rising over the horizon.

SOUND:
A LONG, WAVERING WOLF HOWL... LOUD.

INT. OWEN'S PUB

All conversation has stopped. All have turned toward the

door and the windows; all hear the HOWL. Deep fright

overlies each face.

NORMA drops her tray. Glasses and bottles shatter.

INT. THE MAIN CORRIDOR OF THE TOWN HALL

JOE HALLER comes out of the constable's office in a hurry,

letting the door bang the wall. He's buckling on his gun

belt.

EXT. THE BANDSTAND

BRADY'S kite, torn in a couple of places, flutters on the

steps leading up to the bandstand. The yellow smile face

grins eerily in the darkness. It is streaked with blood.

INT. OWEN'S PUB

HERB:

Brady!

He breaks for the door. ANDY FAIRTON grabs him.

HERB:

Get out of my way!

He pushes ANDY aside. HERB is out the door, chased by PETE

and several of the others.

EXT. THE BANDSTAND NIGHT

JOE HALLER (low voice)

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with

thee. Blessed art thou among women...

He comes out of the shadows, his drawn gun dangling by his

side. This man has had an extremely bad shock. The legs of

his uniform pants are splashed with blood. He makes it down

two steps and then sits heavily by the remains of BRADY'S

smiling, bloody kite. He looks straight ahead. He looks at

nothing.

HALLER (low)

...and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb.

Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for

us sinners now...now...

He looks at the kite, then looks away. He puts a hand over

his face and starts to cry.

EXT. THE COMMON, LOOKING BACK TOWARD MAIN STREET NIGHT

A number of men - not all that were in Owen's but quite a

few of them - are running toward the bandstand. HERB KINCAID

is in the lead, screaming his son's name over and over.

SOUND:
A LONG HOWL, now at some distance.

EXT. THE BANDSTAND, WITH HALLER AND KINCAID

As HERB KINCAID approaches.

HALLER:

Stay off the bandstand, Herb.

HERB:

Is it my boy? Is it Brady?

HALLER:

Don't go up-

HERB (lunges past him)

Brady! Brady!

Disappears into the dark. HALLER looks down at his lap.

HERB:

Br-(CUTS OFF)

The other men arrive, PETE in the lead. HALLER doesn't look

up.

PETE:

Joe, is it-

HALLER (not looking up)

Shhh.

PETE:

Is it the Kicaid b-

HALLER (not looking up)

Shhh, I said.

The men look uneasily at HALLER, at each other. ANDY FAIRTON

shoves forward.

ANDY:

What the f*** is going on h-

SOUND:
HERB SCREAMS. A pause. HERB screams again. The men

flinch back. HALLER doesn't look up. Now, from the darkness

on the bandstand, HERB begins to LAUGH. The men shrink back

further, looking more uneasy than ever.

HERB (voice; laughing)

We'll bury his shoes.

Now HALLER gets up and joins the other men.

HERB (voice; laughing)

That's what we'll have to do; we'll bury

his shoes. Maybe in a couple of Roi-Tan

cigar boxes.

EXT. THE BANDSTAND, MEN'S POV NIGHT

HERB KINCAID appears. He is laughing. He is smeared with his

son's blood. In each hand he holds one of his son's shoes.

HERB:

We'll bury his shoes because his feet are

still in them and they're the only part of

him that makes sense anymore.

HERB laughs harder.

HERB:

It's gonna be the cheapest funeral this

town ever saw!

HERB SCREAMS LAUGHTER. THE CAMERA DOLLIES IN TO CLOSE ON

BRADY'S KITE.

EXT. THE MOON, CU

SOUND:
HERB SCREAMING.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. HOLY FAMILY CHURCH DAY

SOUND:
An organ is playing that sweet old hymn, "Bringing In

The Sheaves."

There are lots of cars parked in front of the church, but

there's a space left just big enough for UNCLE AL'S MG.

MARTY'S Silver Bullet is strapped to the back.

JANE (v-o)

My mother and father- my mother in

particular- did not much care for Uncle

Al...

INT. HOLY FAMILY CHURCH DAY

MARTY'S chair is at the back of the church. Most of the

mourners are crying. MRS. BOWIE is playing the organ.

BRADY'S coffin is on a bier at the front - closed of course.

There are lots of flowers.

JANE (v-o continues)

...but when it came to such unpleasant

duties as taking Marty to the funeral

of his best friend...

INT. UNCLE AL, MARTY, TAMMY, AND MRS. STURMFULLER IN A PEW

As we look at them, from left to right: UNCLE AL, MARTY,

TAMMY, MRS. STURMFULLER.

UNCLE AL unobtrusively takes a small silver flask from his

hip pocket. Engraved on it in Old English letters is the

word "rotgut." He spins the cap and takes a quick knock. He

pauses and glances at MARTY, who looks deeply stunned.

JANE (v-o continues)

...they didn't at all mind drafting him.

As to the sort of comfort Uncle Al may

have been able to offer him...

UNCLE AL hands the flask to MARTY. MARTY looks at him

questioningly for a moment, and then drinks. MARTY looks at

TAMMY, who looks frankly terrible. Her mother is looking

away. MARTY nudges her. She looks around at him. He offers

her the flask. Her eyes widen.

JANE (v-o continues)

...I now believe that was best kept between

the two of them...

After a brief moment's consideration, TAMMY takes the flask

and has a deep swallow. She hands the flask back to MARTY,

who hands it quickly back to UNCLE AL as TAMMY coughs. Her

mother looks at her... then at MARTY and UNCLE AL. UNCLE AL

smiles sympathetically, hiding the flask with one hand, as

if to say, "Isn't it a terrible thing?" MRS. STURMFULLER

looks distractedly back toward the service.

JANE (v-o concludes)

...or among the three of them.

UNCLE AL pockets the flask just as the organ stops playing.

INT. THE PODIUM, WITH FATHER LOWE

LOWE:

Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid have asked that there

be no mass said here this afternoon. There

will be a requiem mass for Brady Kincaid

this Sunday. They did ask me to say a word

of comfort to you, if I could.

He looks out at them.

INT. THE CONGREGATION

They look back at LOWE, hoping for some help in

understanding this awful thing.

INT. LOWE, ABOVE THE COFFIN

LOWE:

If there is any word of comfort I can give

you, it's just this: the face of the beast

always becomes known; the time of the beast

always passes.

He is struggling with this, trying dreadfully hard.

LOWE:

If there are times when we feel alone and

afraid, only small creatures in the dark,

then these are the times when we must turn

to one another for our comfort and our hope.

To our neighbors. To our community. To our

love for each other. I alone cannot ease

the pain for Herb and Naomi Kincaid, nor can

I ease your pain, nor you ease mine. But if

I believe anything it's this: we can comfort

each other. We can heal each other. We can

go on together.

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