STAY Page #13

Sam legs go weak. He shakes his head back and forth.

DEVON:

Oh, crap. Um...

SAM:

(under his breath)

No.

ATHENA:

(prompting)

Why, then your ambition-

DEVON:

Why, then your ambition makes it

one. 'Tis too narrow for your mind.

ATHENA:

O God, I could be bounded in a

nutshell and count myself a king of

infinite space, were it not that I

have bad dreams.

Sam bolts, letting the side door close behind him. Neither

Athena nor Devon seem to notice.

ATHENA (CONT'D)

That's my favorite line in the

whole play.

INT. CAR - NIGHT

DRIVER'S POV

We're cruising across the Brooklyn Bridge. The driver's hands

(a man's hands) are on the steering wheel.

We turn to the right and see Athena sleeping in the passenger

seat. The driver's eyes (and the CAMERA) return to the road.

Suddenly, and with no warning, everything changes.

78.

The car shakes and lurches to the right. We see the hands on

the wheel desperately trying to control the car, but it's

impossible.

Through the windshield we see the road spinning away from us,

and then the steel guardrail coming at us far too fast.

INT. LEON'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT

Leon sits by a partially-opened window, listening to the

wind, the rain, the thunder. He sways as he listens, and

gestures with his hands, as if he were conducting the storm.

.

HENRY (O.S.)

You always loved storms.

Leon grabs his cane and stands up.

LEON:

Who's that? How did you get in

here?

Leon trembles and thrusts at the air in front of him with his

cane.

HENRY:

It's me, Dad. Henry.

LEON:

What are you doing here?

HENRY:

What are you doing here? You died.

I kissed your cheek at the wake.

LEON:

You've got the wrong man. I told

you that before. I never had any

children.

HENRY:

You don't recognize me.

He walks over to Leon, who hears him coming and raises his

cane in fear. Henry grabs the cane and pulls the older man

closer.

HENRY (CONT'D)

I'm not going to hurt you.

He removes Leon's dark glasses. Leon's eyes swim in their

sockets:
useless, blind eyes.

79.

HENRY (CONT'D)

Look at me, Dad. Look at me.

CLOSE on Leon's eyes. They seem to stabilize, the pupils

dilating, beginning to focus, to work.

Leon looks directly at Henry now. He reaches out and touches

the young man's face.

Leon cannot speak. He looks at his own hands, the lines

creasing his palms. He looks out the window. A bolt of

lightning brightens the night sky and Leon moans.

LEON:

Lightning.

HENRY:

Do you recognize me now?

Leon turns back to the boy. Leon's face is transfixed with

wonder everything he sees is a miracle. He touches Henry's

cheek again.

LEON:

What are you?

HENRY:

I'm your son.

LEON:

No-

Henry embraces the older man, buries his face in the

psychiatrist's shoulder.

HENRY:

Is this my punishment, Dad? You

won't recognize me?

LEON:

I never had a-

HENRY:

Please, please, Dad. Forgive me.

LEON:

For what?

.

HENRY:

For killing you.

Leon pushes out of the embrace and takes a half step

backward.

80.

LEON:

I'm alive.

Henry shakes his head sadly.

LEON (CONT'D)

What are you? Are you a god?

HENRY:

A god?

LEON:

You perform miracles...

HENRY:

Miracles?

He walks over to the living room wall. One strip of wallpaper

has begun to peel slightly and Henry tears the strip off the

wall.

HENRY (CONT'D)

You think it's a miracle?

Words in black ink are scribbled on the bare wall beneath the

paper.

HENRY (CONT'D)

Can you see now?

Henry tears off an entire sheet of the wallpaper, and then

another, and then another, flaying the wall.

The phrase FORGIVE ME is written again and again, the

familiar endless loop of minuscule, tortured handwriting.

HENRY (CONT'D)

Can you see? It's in my head, Dad.

It's all in my head.

Leon stares at the writing for several seconds, then turns to

stare at Henry.

LEON:

No-

HENRY:

I'm dreaming you.

Leon opens his mouth to speak but no words come out.

81.

HENRY (CONT'D)

I can't get out of it. I try-- I

try to wake up, but I can't. I'm

trapped here.

LEON:

Henry-

HENRY:

But I can't die in a dream, right?

So if I try to kill myself, I'll

end the dream.

LEON:

And what happens to us?

Henry stares at the older man for a moment and then abruptly

turns and leaves. Leon limps after him.

LEON (CONT'D)

What happens to us?! What happens

to us?!

Henry opens the apartment door and slams it shut behind him.

Leon looks at the closed door for a moment and then out the

window, where the lightning is becoming more and more

frequent.

.

INT. THE WHITE HORSE TAVERN -- NIGHT

A sprawling old bar in the West Village. Henry, soaking wet

from the rain, pushes open the door and enters. The barroom

is nearly empty. He approaches the bar.

The BARTENDER is a heavily-muscled bruiser paging through a

bodybuilding MAGAZINE.

BARTENDER:

You got I.D.?

Henry takes his driver's license out of his wallet and the

bartender inspects it carefully. The clock on the wall reads

9:
05.

BARTENDER (CONT'D)

(smiling)

Happy birthday, kid. First one's on

the house.

HENRY:

A shot of Jack with a Bud back.

82.

BARTENDER:

An All-American drinker, that's

what I like to see. Coming right

up.

HENRY:

Isn't this where Dylan Thomas had

his last drink?

BARTENDER:

(serving the shot and

beer)

Yep. He lined up eighteen shots,

downed them all, and said, "There,

I think that's a record." Then he

dropped dead. "Do not go gentle

into that good night."

Henry raises his shot glass to the bartender.

HENRY:

"Rage, rage against the dying of

the light."

Henry gulps down the shot and pounds the glass onto the bar.

HENRY (CONT'D)

Eighteen more for the record.

EXT. EIGHTH AVENUE -- NIGHT

Sam, shell shocked, walks slowly down the block. He looks

into the face of every person he passes.

A light rain continues to fall.

SAM'S POV

Every shade of humanity is represented in the quickly passing

faces. The beautiful and the ugly, the rich and the poor, the

thin and the fat, the happy and the agitated and the

expressionless.

Each face comes into focus for a second before leaving the

frame.

Sam stops in front of a storefront. A. SMITH'S is written in

gold script on the glass.

.

83.

INT. A. SMITH'S -- NIGHT

Sam wanders through the aisles. He checks the back area,

where a few STUDENTS sit on the window ledges, paging through

art books. Henry is not here.

A bespectacled CLERK approaches Sam.

CLERK:

Can I help you find something?

SAM:

Henry Letham.

CLERK:

A book by Henry Letham or on Henry

Letham?

SAM:

No, he's... I thought he might be

here. I heard he comes here

sometimes.

The clerk calls over to SMITTY, the rumpled shop owner, who

sits behind the checkout counter paging through a book of

photographs.

CLERK:

Smitty, you know a guy named Henry

Letham?

SMITTY:

Sure.

(he looks at Sam)

Something happen to him?

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