The Power of One Page #3

19 ANGLE ON SIX-YEAR-OLD 19

He watches as Jaapie bears down. As Jaapie is about to

let the rock fly the door to the room opens and two STAFF

MEMBERS burst in, surprising in.

STAFF MEMBER:

What's this?

The rock flies from the sling, but Jaapie's attention is

diverted. His aim is off. The rock grazes the boy above

the eye. He loses consciousness. The scene FADES TO

BLACK.

FADE IN:

20 INT. ST. JOHN'S STUDY - DAY 20

Prince of Wales School, 1950. PK, 17 going on 18, well-

built, intense, clear-eyed, handsome, stands in front of

a seminar and continues reading to 10 students, honor

students, Headmaster St. John's chosen few. St. John,

with the demeanor of an Oxford don and a mane of snowy

white hair that reaches his shoulders, sits off to the

side, listening.

PK:

I came to after being unconscious

for two days, the rock missing my

eye by half an inch. After a week

in hospital it was decided I'd be

sent to my grandfather's house in

the English town of Barberton,

at least until passions at school

cooled. Jaapie Botha was expelled;

sent home to his family's farm in

disgrace.

PK (CONT'D)

(beat)

And so the first recorded South

African casualty of Hitler's

insanity was not a Boer, nor a

Rooinek, but a tatter-feathered,

half-bald kaffir chicken.

PK finishes. The end of class BELL RINGS. Offstage,

other classrooms are exiting into the common hall, but

no one in St. John's study moves. St. John takes his

13.

glasses off and wipes the lenses deliberately. After a

long moment he turns to face the class.

ST. JOHN

Very evocative, yes. Particularly

the image of the chicken. Good

choice there.

St. John rises, lecturing.

ST. JOHN

Any ideology that needs to attack

the thing that least threatens it

is an ideology that will not

outlive its own generation.

Inclusion, gentlemen, not

exclusion, is the key to survival.

(beat)

Something our new government

should take heed of, eh?

His eyes roam from face to face, fixing his point.

ST. JOHN

Next week we have Mr. Levy who

will enlighten us on...

MORRIE, a bright-eyed kinetic, speaks up.

MORRIE:

Sport and wager in Imperial Rome,

sir.

ST. JOHN

(facetious)

Very apt, Mr. Levy. We look

forward to the experience.

(pause)

All right.

The boys bolt for the door.

ST. JOHN

P.K.

PK approaches.

ST. JOHN

Well-written.

PK:

Thank you, sir.

ST. JOHN

I've received notice from the

14.

Oxford selection committee. You

are to appear before them in

three weeks. I assume you'll be

reading a piece of your fiction

as your presentational.

PK:

Yes, sir.

ST. JOHN

A word of caution. Contemporary

to most of these fellows means

the seventeenth century. Try and

keep your theme, um, classical,

if you know what I mean.

PK:

Yes sir. I will.

(beat)

Will the scholarship be decided

at the same time, sir?

ST. JOHN

Money's a different matter.

Different committee.

PK:

Very good, sir.

St. John picks up a book and opens the pages. He begins

to read. PK takes it as a cue for his dismissal. He

goes to exit.

ST. JOHN

And P.K...

PK turns at the door.

ST. JOHN

Good luck tonight.

PK:

Thank you, sir.

St. John returns to his book. PK exits.

CUT TO:

21 EXT. HALL 21

Morrie waits in the now nearly-empty hall, taking some

money from another boy and making notations in a black

book. PK comes up to him.

15.

PK:

How we doing?

Morrie consults the book.

MORRIE:

You win and your dream comes true.

You lose, we're back to bread

and butter sandwiches till term's

end. What'd he want?

PK:

My appointement before the Oxford

committee came through.

MORRIE:

A snap.

PK:

For a brain like you, maybe.

MORRIE:

Come on, you'll read one of your

pieces, they'll be begging you to

attend.

PK:

But will they pay for the

privilege?

MORRIE:

Well let's bloody hope so. It'll

be a lonely time without you

there.

PK:

Morrie Levy. Is that the voice

of sentimentality I hear coming

from you?

MORRIE:

Sentimentality my ass.

Practicality. Where am I going

to find a sure thing like you to

make book on at bloody Oxford?

PK:

Go on.

He shoves Morrie playfully out the door and follows.

CUT TO:

16.

22 22

INT. LONG HALLWAY - CLOSEUP - PK AND MORRIE

as they walk down the long hall looking straight ahead.

Sweat dapples PK's face. Both boys are focused on

double doors at the end of the hall. There is the

distant MUFFLED sound of a CROWD CHEERING.

MORRIE:

You hear Sutcliffe screwed

Bartlett's sister when he stayed

with them over holidays?

PK:

I don't believe it.

MORRIE:

I heard it from Bartlett's own

lips. He's selling reservations

for next holiday. A pound for

one night; three pounds for four.

PK:

You register?

MORRIE:

For both of us. Took the whole

holiday.

The CHEERING crowd grows LOUDER the closer they get to

the double doors.

MORRIE:

You nervous?

PK:

No.

MORRIE:

Christ! I'm about to have a calf.

This bloody Boer gets lucky,

we're in the poorhouse.

They reach the double doors. Still in CLOSEUP, Morrie

turns to face PK for the first time.

MORRIE:

Now remember. We're not here to

exhibit our wares. We go in, we

do the job, we get out. Right?

PK is so focused his eyes seem to bore through the doors.

He does not move his head a hair.

PK:

Right.

17.

Morrie and PK draw a deep breath. Together they push

open the double doors. Together they stride into a

floodlit, fully-packed sports arena and head down the

fan-lined aisle to the raised boxing ring in the center.

Schoolboys in their respective school blazers, Afrikaan

and English, yell, whistle and clap. PK and Morrie,

in FULL FRAME, reveal PK in a boxing robe with taped

hands, and Morrie with towel and bucket.

ANNOUNCER:

And at the end of six matches in

all weight divisions, the score

is Prince of Wales three victories,

Helpmakeer three victories.

The stands explode with cheers.

ANNOUNCER:

And now for the final bout to

determine which school will win

the Johannesburg 1950 public

school boxing team championship.

In this corner, weighing 140

pounds, standing 5'8", from the

Helpmakeer School with a record of

13-0 on the year, Jannie

Geildenhaus.

A huge cheer goes up for JANNIE, muscular, bare-chested,

as he dances and shadowboxes for the crowd.

PK enters the ring. He stands, robe on, eyes intent on

Jannie. When the noise subsides the Announcer continues.

ANNOUNCER:

And in this corner, representing

the Prince of Wales School, the

current Johannesburg Public School

welterweight champion, also with

a record of 13-0 on the year, also

140 pounds, Kid P.K.

Now the English schoolboys cheer for their man, but PK

does not respond. He barely moves. He raises an arm in

bare acknowledgment. His attention stays focused across

the ring on his shadowboxing opponent. PK watches Jannie

dance closely when a low CHANTING begins from outside the

stadium -- African, tribal, mystical harmonies of black

voices building until the white voices inside the stadium

are stunned to silence. The song carries beautifully in

the night. For the first time PK's focus is broken, but

not like the others in the audience, who haven't a clue

as to what's happening. He has heard this before. This

is familiar.

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