Thunderheart Page #8

COOCH:

Let's take a walk.

Ray is transfixed.

EXT. BUFFALO BUTTE BAR - NIGHT

The Indian man, is pushed into a stumble, and caught by

another white man as a little game of catch takes place.

Cooch, stepping into the circle, shirt half unbuttoned, hair

a mess, looks on. Then steps in front of a big local and

catches the Indian as he comes stumbling. He holds onto him,

looking at the faces that turn his way. Ray steps up beside

him, looking tense.

COOCH:

What's goin' on here?

(a beat)

I can't walk across the goddamn street

without some breed-ass fallin' all

over me?

And then Cooch shoves the Indian with all his might back

across the road. The locals resume their fun, and Cooch looks

at a local man and shares a chattering laugh that makes Ray

do a serious take.

COOCH:

Watch out now, he wants a kiss, Ray,

wants a kiss --

The Indian ends up stumbling back toward Ray, and Ray catches

him this time. The man maintains a perfect vacant expression

and keeps acting as though nothing of the sort is happening.

But he is dizzy, and exhausted, and Ray keeps him from

falling.

Cooch looks at Ray. Their eyes meet. Ray shoves the man

forward. This time, instead of catching him, the local on

the receiving end, hauls off and punches him in the face.

The Indian drops.

Cooch runs in, grabs the Indian under the arms and drags him

back to his car.

COOCH:

Go ahead, skin, get your ass back on

your sacred land. Get outta here.

He shoves him behind the wheel as the locals crowd around.

They don't see Cooch throw the wheel stick in drive, and

lean into the man's ear.

COOCH:

Get outta here. Drive.

Cooch slams the door, and kicks it, and the vehicle lurches

forward. A beer can clanks off the rear window, and rolls

clanking into the middle of the road.

Ray stands there with the locals as they all watch the car

drive off across the reservation line. Cooch, belly sticking

out of his unbuttoned shirt, and a breathless smile on his

face, heads to the bar without breaking stride. This man has

done "underground" before.

INT. BUFFALO BUTTE BAR - NIGHT - SHORT TIME LATER

Cooch and Ray sit in a booth with DENNIS VAUGHN, a strapping

local man, ranch-raised, and gentlemanly. In fact, downright

likeable.

DENNIS:

So what type of salesmen are you

gentlemen anyway?

RAY:

Liquor. We heard they like their

drink on the reservation, and we

were gonna see if we couldn't unload

some surplus on the way to Nebraska.

COOCH:

Now keep that between us, Dennis,

cuz I don't know what kinda Johnny

Law they got here.

DENNIS:

Hey, Brooks, come over here. I want

you to meet a coupla fellas from

Denver.

BROOKS, a small, older man with a feed store cap and a clean

cowboy shirt, comes over with a beer and a pensive look on

his face. He pulls up a chair and positions himself at the

end of the booth.

DENNIS:

Liquor salesmen. Be nice to them,

maybe they'll give you a sample of

some of that gin you like.

(to Ray)

He likes that Russian sh*t that --

BROOKS:

They ain't liquor salesmen. They're

FBI.

Cooch and Ray don't flinch. Dennis does. He looks between

the two, cautiously.

COOCH:

Brooks, what's a perceptive fellow

like you, doing in a joint like this?

Let me buy you a glass of some of

that Russian sh*t you like.

DENNIS:

FBI? What you investigatin'?

COOCH:

A murder. On the reservation.

DENNIS:

Again. Figures, man.

BROOKS:

You'll never find out who did it.

COOCH:

You underestimate me, Brooks.

BROOKS:

No. You underestimate these grass

n*ggers. They're killing each other.

That's all they do. Get drunk and

kill each other. Then cover for each

other. Who gives a damn really as

long as they stay on their

reservation. You ask me, the

government shouldn't care one

particle.

DENNIS:

You know how in your big cities, you

got your n*ggers and you got your

Puerto Ricans? Well out here we got

Indians. That's just the way it is.

COOCH:

The only good Indian is a dead Indian,

does that old adage still hold true

out here?

Cooch laughs good-naturedly. Ray smiles. But Brooks looks

offended.

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