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INT. HARLIN'S GARAGE - DAY

DARRELL watches out of the darkened office through the front

window, as BOBBY slams the trunk and starts walking down the

road, with the bag on his shoulder.

EXT. DESERT ROAD - LATER

BOBBY walks along a dusty patch of road into town past a sign

saying "SUPERIOR - HOME OF THE GOLDEN DOOR RETIREMENT

COMMUNITY." As he walks on, a pair of MOTORCYCLERS roar past on

their Harleys blanketing him in a cloud of DUST. He shouts

after them, but his words are lost under the whine of the cycle

engines.

EXT. SUPERIOR MAIN STREET - DAY

BOBBY hits town, such as it is: The Freeway left here a few

years back. There are only a few little stores: A general

store, a catalog outlet, a post office that doubles as a bus

depot. All of them built for the desert heat. The busiest spot

in town seems to be the truckstop/diner with a few 18 wheelers

parked outside it.

At the corner of one street sits an old BLIND MAN dressed in

raggedy clothes, perhaps an Indian. His SEEING-EYE DOG lies next

to him. He's talking to TWO OLD MEN, veterans perhaps, Indian or

Spanish. They both have missing limbs and slide off with furtive

alcoholic looks as Bobby passes. The Blind Man yells out in an

American Indian accent.

BLIND MAN:

Hey! You there!

BOBBY:

You want something, old man?

BLIND MAN:

Don't call me old man. Ain't you got

no respect, boy?

BOBBY:

You want something?

BLIND MAN:

Yeah I want something. I want you to run

over to that machine and get me a pop.

BOBBY:

You can't do that yourself?

BLIND MAN:

Hell no, I can't do that myself. I'm

blind. Can't you see that?

BOBBY:

I'm sorry, I didn't--

BLIND MAN:

What'd you think I was doing out here

with these glasses on? Sunnin' myself?

BOBBY:

I don't know. I thought you were keeping

the sun out of your eyes.

BLIND MAN:

I ain't got no eyes. You want to see?

BOBBY:

Christ no!

BLIND MAN:

Lost my eyes in Vyee-et-nam. Lost them

fighting the commies. Fought the war and

lost my eyes fightin' the commies just so

you can come around here and make fun of

me.

BOBBY:

I said I was sorry.

BLIND MAN:

Don't be sorry. Just run over there and

get me my pop before I die of thirst.

BOBBY:

Yeah, sure. You got change?

BLIND MAN:

Change? You want my change? I fought the

war and lost my eyes just so I could give

you my change?

BOBBY:

All right, old man. Christ.

Bobby walks across the street to a very old soda machine; it has

bottles instead of cans. The blind man shouts to Bobby.

BLIND MAN:

Get me a Dr. Peppa! I don't want no Colas.

Colas ain't nothing but flavored water.

Bobby puts change in the machine and pulls out a bottle of Dr.

Pepper. He starts back to the blind man.

BLIND MAN:

Don't forget to open it for me. I can't be

opening my own bottle.

BOBBY:

Christ!

Bobby goes back to the machine and opens the bottle, then walks

back to the old man who pours a splash on the ground.

BLIND MAN:

A little for Mother Earth. I'm about fifty

percent Indian, you know. To all our

relations.

He takes a hearty swig of the soda.

BLIND MAN:

Ah! Just what I needed! Want some?

The blind man holds the bottle out to Bobby. A string of saliva

runs from his lips to the bottle's neck.

BOBBY:

I'll pass.

Bobby reaches down and pets the old man's dog. Flies buzz around

both the dog and the Blind Man.

BOBBY:

I think you'd better give your pooch a sip.

He looks sick.

BLIND MAN:

That's 'cause he's dead.

Bobby jumps back.

BOBBY:

Oh, Jesus.

BLIND MAN:

I hope you wasn't pettin' him none, was

you?

BOBBY:

What the hell are you keeping a dead dog

around for?

BLIND MAN:

He's only just dead. What was I supposed

to do with him? I can't take him away

anywhere. And nobody wants to take him for

me. Do you?

BOBBY:

Hell no!

BLIND MAN:

See. Ain't nothing I can do but keep him

here beside me. That's where he belongs

anyways. Me and Jesse, that's my dog, not

anymore, but me and Jesse we been pals

since the war when I lost my eyes. He was

just a pup then... a companion that's

loyal, that'll keep coming back to you no

matter how much you kick him...I miss him.

(as Bobby moves away) I'll see ya later,

unless I come across something worse.

Bobby noticing a beautiful woman down the street, GRACE McKENNA,

compulsively turns and catches up to her. She is dressed better

than the usual t-shirts and tank tops of this town -- perhaps a

mail-ordered dress or a mother's hand-me-down. With her raven

hair and caramel skin, it is obvious she is Native American. Her

arms are full with an awkward package she can barely manage.

BOBBY:

Can I give you a hand, beautiful?

GRACE:

I'm just going to my car?

BOBBY:

That's right on my way.

GRACE:

My mother told me never to accept offers

from strangers.

BOBBY:

My name is Bobby. Now I'm not a stranger

anymore. See how easy it is for us to get

to know each other, beautiful?

GRACE:

Do you have to call me that?

BOBBY:

I don't know your real name.

GRACE:

Maybe I don't want you to.

Grace stops walking.

BOBBY:

Maybe, but if you didn't I think you would

have kept on walking.

GRACE:

You're pretty full of yourself, aren't you?

BOBBY:

I like that about me, beautiful.

GRACE:

It's Grace.

BOBBY:

May I carry your package, Grace?

Grace hesitates, then gives the package to Bobby. He has

trouble with it himself.

BOBBY:

Jesus.

GRACE:

You sure you can manage?

BOBBY:

I got it.

GRACE:

Do you want me to carry your pack for you?

Bobby blurts out emphatically.

BOBBY:

No!

He catches himself, and softens a bit.

BOBBY:

No, I've got it.

GRACE:

What happened to your hand?

BOBBY:

Accident.

GRACE:

You should be more careful.

They start walking towards Grace's car.

GRACE:

It's very nice of you to help me. That

package is kind of heavy, and it's so hot.

BOBBY:

No trouble at all, really.

They get to a car and Bobby puts down the package.

BOBBY:

Wasn't nothing.

GRACE:

Oh, this isn't my car. It's down a ways.

I should have parked closer. I just didn't

think it would be so heavy. I could drive

up.

BOBBY:

That's all right. I got it.

Bobby takes up the package and they begin walking again. The

package seems to have gained weight.

GRACE:

It's just new drapes and curtain rods. If

I had known it was going to be so heavy I

would have had them delivered up to the

house.

Bobby struggles with the package. Sweat starts to sheet his

face.

BOBBY (panting)

That a fact?

GRACE:

I just got tired of looking at the old

drapes. My mother made them. Had them long

as I can remember. You ever seen something

and just knew you had to have it?

BOBBY (straining)

Yes, I have.

GRACE:

'Course they cost a little more than I

should really be spending. But, damn it, I

don't hardly ever do anything nice for

myself. I deserve nice things.

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