RELATIVE SANITY by Charles Anthony Musgrove
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RELATIVE SANITY By Charles Anthony Musgrove Based on the Novelette "Relative Sanity" by Martin Reaves First Draft CA Musgrove December 6 2015 [email protected] Newport Beach, CA 323-427-7816 FADE IN: A BLURRY GREY/WHITE FRAME slowly comes to focus. ROLL PRE TITLE SEQUENCE We are VERY CLOSE TO and PULLING AWAY from an object. This object is marked in long lines and deep, chiseled cuts. PULLING BACK FURTHER STILL these markings gradually turn into sharp teeth and deep eye sockets of rage! DIFFERENT CU SHOTS of the object and its details giving us hints of its whole design over OMINOUS MUSIC... Finally, as the CAMERA STILLS and has PULLED BACK WIDE we see that the object is in fact a massive, grey and white, stone statue of three wolves attacking a giant bear wrestling a mountain lion. A small fox hides nearby under a bush, fright in its eyes... On the bottom of the slab is an inscription which reads: "Though He may slay me, yet will I trust in Him. Job 13:15" SLOW WHITE DISSOLVE TO: EXT. HOBBS’ HOUSE - NIGHT A FULL WHITE MOON against a deep, purple night. BLACK TREE BRANCHES scrape against each other in the light breeze causing brittle leaves to fall onto a lone, DIRT ROAD. To the left of the road is a SHIMMERING POND of swamp and slime harboring an occasional CROAK from a toad. Blue smoke seeps up from it creating a foggy look. A line of great pine trees behind. To the right is a clump of standing METAL MAILBOXES in front of a frail, wooden fence lined with tall weed flowers and high grass. WE MOVE along the rickety, wooden fence to a lone, rusted out shack of a HOUSE with patina of ancient wood and flaking paint under a fragile tin roof. The property is protected with years of overgrown vegetation and old sycamore and blue oak, a few tall pine. WE SLOWLY COME CLOSER to the broken house, onto an uneven porch with a single, old rocking chair and finally to a BUG SMEARED, YELLOW WINDOW. 2. A SMALL, DARK FORM moves across our dim view. INT. HOBBS’ HOUSE - CONTINUOUS BELLA/BABYLON, 13, stands in front of an incapacitated, grotesque HOBBS, 50’s, who’s lying on a slumped couch, face up, eyes closed. She is clenching a MASSIVE, TATTERED OLD KING JAMES BIBLE like a mighty shield in front of her tiny chest. Her FACE is bruised and bloodied, a cut lip. Her hair tangled with dirt and dried blood, some fresh along with some gluey vomit. One of her dirty, dress straps is torn. A bruised rose. Babylon is intensely studying him. Hobbs’ face is mangled with sin and lost bar fights, semi hidden with patches of unshaven, inbred stubble. His too-small-for-him oily shirt drenched in warm beer and chunky vomit barely covers his rolling, hairy gut. His pants lay open exposing stained, once white now greyish-brown briefs. Gorilla feet of thick, yellow nail hang over the arm, worn out leather shoes below. A six pack of empty, crushed beer cans litter the filthy rug next to some open porno mags. This one bedroom hovel of giant cockroaches and mangy rats feels smaller than it is do to the haphazard trash piles heaped in places meant for walking. A broken down half bath of mold and mildew rot shares one end adjacent to a forgotten bedroom while this hell hole’s living quarters shares its sticky air with an abandoned kitchen dripping of grease and grime. The floors are dirty white tile covered with an occasional matted rug laid over it, worn down to the bare fibers. There’s a large stone and iron fireplace with its iron tools standing tall in the center of the main wall burning ash and coal. (This fireplace used to belong to a first house that burned down years ago and this homemade shack was built around it.) Inside we see what remains of old trash, crushed beer cans and a book. The flames on them are no larger than a candle’s. A yellow lamp next to the couch with dried puke on its shade and the small glowing flames in the fireplace are the only two things illuminating this glorified, red-necked dungeon meant for dying. The absence of a woman is evident. The absence of love. The absence of God. (CONTINUED) CONTINUED: 3. Babylon quietly opens up her Bible to a certain page and inside the divide is an empty CHOCOLATE BAR WRAPPER. She brings it to her nose, closes her eyes and breathes in the chocolate aroma and holds it as long as possible before exhaling. She peaks at Hobbs who is motionless, still, like he could be dead. She quietly puts it back in the divide and closes the pages then returns the "shield" to its original place. (Babylon/Bella talk to each other in their minds) BELLA You know he’s not sleeping, right Babylon? Baby Babylon. BABYLON Don’t call me that, Bella. And yes he is. I’ve seen him like this before. (studying Hobbs) He’s asleep. Maybe even dead. BELLA And he’s surely not dead. Hobbs’ chest moves up and down. Gut rolls. Babylon lets out a sigh. BABYLON We’re leaving. Tonight. I’ve been thinking about it long and hard so get your things. I already got mine. Her arms tighten around the Bible. BELLA No. We’re not leaving. We can’t leave. BABYLON And why not? BELLA You know why. Hobbs snores slightly. He’s a bear to her. Just hibernating but a beast if awakened. (CONTINUED) CONTINUED: 4. Babylon looks down at her ANKLE as she remembers the chained iron shackle locked onto her leg. The chain is thick and heavy and runs about thirty feet to the far wall. A single tear runs down her dirty face as her blue eyes resentfully crawl back onto Hobbs and onto the large, IRON KEY RING holding two medieval looking skeleton keys hooked onto his belt. BELLA Don’t even think about it, Baby. BABYLON We’re leaving. No more arguing. BELLA How? Babylon sucks at the remaining blood on her lip and wipes her snot away as a long and deep thought finally emerges. BABYLON I’m going to kill’m. BELLA (snorts) Oh, Baby, you couldn’t hurt a fly, and you know it. You just need to stay quiet. BABYLON Yes, I could. I’ve killed lots of flies before. And I can kill daddy just as well if I wanted to. BELLA No you couldn’t, Baby. You’re a scaredy-cat. BABYLON No, I’m not. BELLA Scaredy-cat. Scardey-cat. BABYLON (louder) Stop calling me that. (as she wipes a tear away) I am not a scaredy-cat. Hobbs suddenly GRUFFS and moves. A wild animal outside his cage. (CONTINUED) CONTINUED: 5. Babylon starts with instant panic. BELLA See. BABYLON Hush! Babylon watches Hobbs for a long beat with increasing daring. BABYLON I know how we can do it, too, Bella. I got a plan. BELLA Oh, Baby. You always have a plan, don’t you? BABYLON This one is different. A real plan this time. BELLA Oh, Baby, just hush it. Babylons bows her head and slightly touches the Bible to her bloodied lips and closes her eyes like she’s praying. BELLA You’ve always been the dreamer haven’t you? Babylon’s lips start whispering something. BELLA And how you think we’re going to do this? Huh, Baby Dreamer? What’s the plan this time. Tie one of his belts around his neck and squeeze? The both of us real tight? No, wait. We could suffocate him with our pillow. I could go get it. Or we could just poison his beer with the rat poison he keeps under the sink next to the traps. Babylon whispers, "Amen" and opens her eyes. BELLA Oh, Babylon Baby. We can’t...okay...we’re just too weak. We’re not like daddy and you know (CONTINUED) CONTINUED: 6. (MORE) (CONTINUED) CONTINUED: 7. BELLA (cont’d) this. He’s not a little fly you can just swat on a wall. Something gurgles in Hobbs’ round belly, threatening Babylon with more vomit rain. She picks something sticky out of her hair with hopeless disgust and flicks it towards a soiled puke bucket near her feet. Under the couch is a RAT TRAP. We witness it moving. Babylon shutters. BABYLON You don’t know this, Bella. You don’t know anything. Babylon glares at the iron keys again. BABYLON You see, I’ve been keeping a secret from you. BELLA (unsure) What secret? What do you mean? I know all your secrets, Baby. I hear them when you sleep. BABYLON Only the ones I dream about. Hobbs seems to twitch from one of his own. BABYLON But there’s one that I dream about when I’m awake. (beat) I’ve been working on a plan for our escape. And tonight we’re leaving for good. Babylon turns the Bible around and gives it a compassionate look, runs her finger tips gently across its leather cover. BELLA You can’t dream when you’re awake, Baby. BABYLON Yes you can. (beat) It’s called praying. (CONTINUED) CONTINUED: 8. Babylon tightens her lips in a crunch. BABYLON (determined) I’m sorry, Bella, but, this is going to hurt us. Just for a second. With all her bottled up pain of torture and torment Babylon SLOWLY raises the heavy, thick Bible over her head like a struggling weight lifter.