A Pair of Aces Read online

  ROOM UPSTAIRS

  Clyde has opened the door, and led Brian in. There is an antique mirror against the wall, one of those that swivels on hinges. It is high and dusty. A mattress is on the floor and a nude girl on the mattress, and Stone is on the girl. The girl's not moving, but Stone is moving a lot.

  Another girl, with incredibly large breasts and large eyes, sits naked close to Loony on the other side of the mattress watching Stone and his girl. It is clear they are all stoned to the max.

  Clyde nods toward big tits, talks like she isn't even there.

  CLYDE

  Got this one that's something else. A runaway. Totally wiped out in the brain department.

  ANGLE ON GIRL

  She's dirty and her hair is matted, but she's still worth looking at.

  CLYDE O.S.

  But man, does she have tits, in case you didn't notice.

  BRIAN

  (grinning)

  Hey, what's it going to cost me?

  ON CLYDE

  He smiles. JAWS couldn't smile this big.

  CLYDE

  I want your soul, man, not your money.

  DISSOLVE TO:

  SAME SCENE–LATER–NIGHT

  MONTAGE

  Flashes of raucous sex..everyone naked, having all kinds of sex…tangled together…

  Brian and Clyde having the stoned runaway girl.

  Clyde watching Brian's naive enjoyment through the night.

  And while all this goes on, we have the–

  SCRATCHING OF THE PEN, and–

  BRIAN V.O.

  It is fine, so fine. It's life as it was meant to be lived by those strong enough to live it, to take it and enjoy it, and not worry about the consequences. It's the bitch, baby, just as fine as it can be….

  FADE TO:

  CHEVY PULLS UP TO CURB–MORNING

  Brian gets out, stoned and ragged, mumbling. He leans in the window at Clyde.

  BRIAN

  Man, I never did nothing like that…you are beautiful, man, you know? That's what you are, you are fucking beautiful.

  CLYDE

  Sleep it off, asshole.

  DISSOLVE TO:

  INT. CLYDE'S HOUSE–LATER

  Clyde carries the BIG-BREASTED girl down the stairs to the cellar. Down there, in the water, we see the OTHER girl from the night before, floating, dead, face-up.

  He tosses the big-breasted girl in the water, and we end our FLASH BACK with a SPLASH and we–

  MATCH CUT TO:

  WATER SPLASHING ON BECKY'S FACE

  PULL BACK

  …and we realize Becky is in the shower. Her head is turned up to the water, eyes closed.

  She reaches up, turns the shower off, steps out, grabs a shorty towel robe and puts it on, rubs another towel over her hair.

  THE BACK PORCH–LATER

  Becky, still wearing a towel on her head, is looking out at the trees and the shimmering lake. The world is nice after being wet down by the rain of the night before.

  It looks like it's going to be a pretty nice day. She walks back inside where Monty is drinking coffee in the living room. The TV is on.

  The two are tense and on edge after their argument the night before. Becky glances at the TV with irritation. Monty speaks to her without really looking at her.

  MONTY

  Made some fresh coffee.

  Becky doesn't answer, but pours herself a cup from the urn on the table.

  MONTY

  Beck, I'm sorry about last night. I think we need to talk about this.

  BECKY

  (cold attitude)

  About what, Monty?

  She passes the TV and turns it off.

  MONTY

  (looks up)

  What am I supposed to say, nothing? I open my mouth I've got an opinion about anything, I just mention psychiatrist and POW! I'm a no good son of a bitch, I'm not manly, I don't understand…

  With the word "understand" he mocks her voice. Bad idea.

  Becky turns on him, her calm attitude more deadly than her anger. The coffee shakes from her cup.

  BECKY

  Don't do that, Monty. Don't…

  MONTY

  Okay, okay… I don't think I should catch hell for not seeing your dreams as you do. How could I? I can't get in your head, but I can try to present some steady, logical point of view–

  BECKY

  As opposed to my totally out of my fucking estrogen jacked-up mind point of view.

  MONTY

  I didn't say that, I never said that. What I said was you–that after what you went through–

  BECKY

  –and you didn't. Let's come back to that little reminder.

  Monty gets up, walks around. He seems a little bolder, quickly falling into the old routine.

  MONTY

  –right, and I didn't. After what you went through you can't be sure what these dreams are all about. The mind tricks you when something like this happens.

  Becky sighs, gives him a look that could cut metal.

  BECKY

  You and Eva must be writing a book.

  MONTY

  It seems to you that you see that boy's suicide, that you actually see it happen. I'm just suggesting, and this is not just psychiatric mumbo-jumbo as you call it, I am suggesting that instead of thinking about the dreams, you might try to stay on the rape issue itself, the feelings you–

  Becky turns on him. Now she's going right over the edge, close to hysteria.

  BECKY

  The–rape issue? Is that what it was? Well, if I had known it was only a goddamn issue–

  MONTY

  Becky…

  Becky flat comes apart.

  BECKY

  Oh, God…I have–a–fucking–ISSUE! I HAVE A RAPE ISSUE..WHY DIDN'T I REALIZE THAT!

  Monty stunned, as Becky, tired of this shit, heads toward the bedroom, slinging her coffee against the wall as she goes.

  DISSOLVE TO:

  POP'S STATION–DAY

  A big sign above the door says POP'S. There are other buildings and stores around this very small town. One sign reads MINNANETTE LAUNDROMAT.

  JONES' VW

  pulls into Pop's at the gas island. Monty gets out. An old man, POP, his own self, nods as he passes in front of Monty, going toward a pickup truck parked on the outside lane.

  POP

  Right with you.

  MONTY

  No hurry.

  MONTY'S POV

  He watches as Pop hands change to a WOMAN standing by her pickup, the door open. She's large-boned, attractive, shoulder length hair, eyes large like a doe's. She's wearing a loose dress and is standing in a way we can see her legs, her figure. Which, ain't bad.

  The woman turns, looks past POP, who is limping back, and she smiles a sexy kind of smile at Monty.

  BACK TO SCENE

  Monty grins. Things aren't great at home, and he's obviously hungry for affection. Pop comes back out.

  POP AND MONTY

  POP

  What can I do for you, young feller?

  MONTY

  Need a few things from the store. Think I'm okay on gas.

  POP

  Good. Gas cost you a bundle these, days, don't need to tell you that. Folks blame me for that. Hell, I look like a goddamn a-rab to you?

  MONTY

  No, sure don't.

  INT. POP'S STORE

  Monty walks around. Merchandise is stacked everywhere. He has already collected a few items in his cart. The store looks as if it belongs in another age. Everything is covered with dust. There's an old cardboard comb display.

  Pop slides in behind the counter, calls out to him.

  POP

  You like the VW?

  MONTY

  Uh-huh.

  POP

  Have to push it up hills?

  MONTY

  Absolutely. Sometimes down hills.

  Pop cackles.

  POP

  Nothing personal, sonny. Wouldn't have one of
those foreign son of a bitches myself if you gave it to me free with gas in the tank and a piece of ass stretched out in the back.

  MONTY

  Take it you don't want a VW.

  POP

  You're new around here, aren't you?

  Monty has moved down the aisle a bit, glancing over an ancient stack of magazines, not looking at Pop. He picks one up. A movie magazine. It is really old and yellow and brittle. On the cover, a picture of a not so current actor. He holds it up in Pop's direction.

  MONTY

  I believe this famous thespian is dead. He retired first. Then died. This picture is–old.

  Pop looks at the magazine Monty is holding and nods.

  POP

  Yep. Ain't a sonofabitch in any of those old magazines ain't dead, and they was probably younger than me when them photos was taken. I'll be around until God takes the world again by fire. I don't sell those by the way. Wife used to read em. Never had the heart to get rid of 'em.

  MONTY

  Not buying.

  He returns the magazine to the rack.

  POP

  I believe I asked if you were new.

  MONTY

  Oh. Kinda….Friends of Eva and Dean Beaumont. Loaned us the cabin down by the lake.

  POP

  Yeah, I know 'em. You from Galveston, too?

  MONTY

  Uh-huh.

  Monty has spotted two rows of Halloween masks hanging from a hook.

  ON MASKS

  grotesque things, some of them the pullover latex kind. One is nothing but a skull with rubbery sprigs of hair. One has a rubber knife sticking in the forehead; a purple blotch of blood flows down the contorted face. The others are of werewolves and vampires and the like.

  BACK TO SCENE

  MONTY

  These things pretty old too?

  POP

  Two, three Halloweens back. You thinking of trickin' and treatin' tomorrow night?

  Monty, distracted, is looking out past the store to the highway.

  MONTY

  Guess not.

  POP

  (grinning)

  That gal in the truck. Marjorie? There's a trick and a treat both, I'll tell you that. What you got there's the kind of woman who'll drink her whiskey straight, and roll up with a man and fuck him like a snake.

  MONTY

  looks a little pained. He's pushing his buggy toward the counter now.

  MONTY

  You speaking from experience, are you?

  POP

  All my experience is passed, son. Used to wake up with a hard-on looked like I was sleeping in a pup tent. These days just happy to wake up and it hasn't fallen off. Don't guess that's any bother to a young fella like you.

  MONTY

  So…how much is all this?

  EXT. OUTSIDE THE CABIN

  BECKY is walking toward the trees. She passes a small storage shed, stops to pick up a stick, swishes it through the air once, looks up, and a squirrel looks down at her from a tree. It leans forward and chatters at her.

  Becky tosses the stick at the squirrel. The stick doesn't even make it half the distance to the squirrel, falls back to the ground.

  BECKY

  Beat it, you little bastard. You sound too cheery.

  Curious, Becky opens the shed door, which sticks for a moment. Inside are hoes, shovels, an axe, a hammer, saw, etc.

  She spots a frog gig in the corner. It is a spring-cocked device with metal jaws. She picks it up, looks at it, and as she does there's a flash of Clyde's face, and a kid she hasn't seen before, but we have, Brian. There's a rumble of voices, the words at first unidentifiable, then very clearly we hear:

  VOICE

  Gonna cut her…cut her….cut her.

  Becky reels, knocks over a couple of things, drops the gig.

  VOICE

  Ram it up…ram it all the way…

  She stumbles out of the shed, reels with her hands to head and staggers toward the dock, collapses onto it, rolls over on her back and we see–

  THE SUN

  Becky closes her eyes in defense, turns her head, moans, curls into the fetal position. And in the darkness behind her eyes–

  VOICE

  Cut her…all the way…all the way up…

  VOICE

  Ram it…..ram it…

  And now there's a VISION, and it comes at us in a swirl, like a tornado, and it spins apart and lays out a scenario, and in the scenario it is dark and the moon can be seen riding high above dark trees, the branches of which look like fingers spread wide, clutching at the sky, trying to reach up and take hold and pull down the moon.

  ANOTHER ANGLE

  on this vision, and we see through the trees, and the moonlight is draped over the branches, and near the ground the leaves and pine needles rise up on the wind and blow about, and out of the woods come shadows, from all directions.

  The shadows come together like spilled black paint and the gold of the moon weakens and hangs high in the trees, but it throws no light on the ground.

  Now Becky is in the vision. Standing in a clearing, looking toward the woods, and as we go CLOSER ON BECKY, we see she is trembling, her face covered in balls of sweat, and behind her the lake, smooth and mirror-like. Now we have–

  ANOTHER ANGLE

  with Becky looking into the deep dark woods, watching as the leaves and pine needles gather up and make three human shapes with no appearance of leaf or needle. They are flesh and blood, but they are demonic. They creep toward her, backs bent, hands dragging, their faces grinning.

  The haunting THEME starts up, creepy as wet, bony fingers under the sheets.

  Out of the woods, behind the creepers, the shadows, gather up huge and tall and take the shape of a featureless figure. He is THE LORD OF THE RAZOR, and we've seen him before, but not as we see him now in this surrealistic dream. He is still a VAGUE, WAVY shape, not entirely clear.

  He steps into the clearing, standing WAY UP tall behind the demons, so tall the moon seems to sit on the top of his shadowy hat.

  The demons creep forward, slowly. Becky is frozen. And as they creep they seem less and less surrealistic and the woods seem real and the CAMERA TURNS at a variety of angles, and suddenly she comes unstuck, turns to run, but freezes once again as a body SWINGS down ahead of her, upside down, making a harsh, rushing sound. It is a female body, her size, long black hair hanging down, and the body is twisting in the wind, starting to turn toward her.

  ANOTHER ANGLE

  As she stares, we see behind her, in glimpses, the demons, the shadow shape about to overwhelm her. We HEAR the babble of voices we've heard before, like things that once were human, trying to speak through glass pack mufflers, and then we go right back to Becky and we're in–

  BECKY'S POV

  The body turning, the face almost visible, drips of blood falling off of it, a crack in the forehead big enough to go camping in, and just as we are about to see the face–

  THERE IS A LIGHT SO BRIGHT THE ENTIRE VISION IS ABSORBED and we can hear a voice, coming at us weakly, and it is not a demonic voice, but one coming from far away, words traveling down a great tunnel, and then the BRIGHTNESS THAT FILLS THE SCREEN has a shape in it, and as Becky blinks, we realize we

  BECKY'S POV

  are back in real time, and surrealism has taken a powder, and the shadow shape becomes clearer.

  Monty. Talking.

  MONTY

  Becky? Becky!

  Monty scoops her into his arms.

  MONTY

  Hey, it's all right, it's okay, baby…

  She's not pulling back now. She grabs him like a drowning rat mounting a floating two-by-four, and as she does we PULL UP TO THE SKY and it is bright, but as we watch it FADES to cob web gray and we have a–