第2部分

smells like. He sinks in past his ankles. He slips and sits heavily in it.

RORY

Oh God, that's what it is, it's shit. oh my God it's shit. pull me out 'fore I blow my groceries, oh shit

it's shit, oh my Gawwwwwwd!

225 INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- DAY (1966) 225

Red and others listen to violent barfing from below.

RED (V.O.)

And then came the unmistakable sound of Rory Tremont losing his

last few meals. The whole cellblock heard it. I mean, it echoed.

That's it for Red. He starts laughing. Laughing, hell, he's bellowing laughter, laughing so hard he

has to hold himself, laughing so hard tears are pouring down his cheeks. The look of rage on

Norton's face makes him laugh all the harder.

226 INT -- SOLITARY WING -- NIGHT (1966) 226

Abrupt silence. LOW ANGLE on steel door.

RED (V.O.)

I laughed myself right into solitary. Two week stretch.

227 INT -- SOLITARY -- NIGHT (1966) 227

RED

It's shit, it's shit, oh my God it's shit...

He starts laughing all over again, fit to split.

RED (V.O.)

Andy once talked about doing easy time in the hole. Now I knew what he meant.

228 EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- WIDE SHOT -- DAY (1966) 228

Virgin landscape. Charming rural road. Suddenly, State Police cruisers rocket up the road with

SIRENS AND LIGHTS.

RED (V.O.)

In 1966, Andy Dufresne escaped from Shawshank Prison.

229 EXT -- FIELD -- DAY (1966) 229

61

Shawshank is half a mile distant. WE TRACK ALONG a muddy creel as STATE TROOPERS and

PRISON GUARDS scour the brush. A TROOPEE fishes a prison uniform out of the creek with a

long stick.

RED (V.O.)

All they found of him was a muddy set of prison clothes, a bar of

soap, and an old rock-hammer damn near worn down to the nub.

TROOPER g2 pulls the rock-hammer from the weeds. SWISH PAN

to a POLICE PHOTOGRAPHER. His FLASHBULB GLARE produces:

230 A BLACK AND WHITE STILL PHOTO 230

of the hapless cops posing with Andy's reeking uniform and the

worn rock-hammer. PUSH IN on the hammer.

RED (V.O.)

I remember thinking it would take a man six hundred years to tunnel

through the wall with it. Andy did it in less than twenty.

231 INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1949) 231

Once again, we see Andy using the rock-hammer to scratch his name into the cement. Suddenly,

a palm-sized chunk of cement pops free and hits the floor. He stares down at it.

232 INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1949) 232

Andy lies in the dark, studying the chunk of concrete in his hands. Considering the possibilities.

Wrestling with hope.

RED (V.O.)

Andy loved geology. I imagine it appealed to his meticulous nature.

An ice age here, a million years of mountain-building there, plates of

bedrock grinding against each other over a span of millennia...

233 INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1949) 233

Andy stands peering at the small hole left by the fallen chunk. Carefully runs his fingertip over it.

RED (V.O.)

Geology is the study of pressure and time. That's all it takes, really. Pressure and time.

234 INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1951) 234

Rita is now on the wall, hanging down over Andy's back.

RED (V.O.)

That and a big damn poster.

TRACK IN to reveal Andy scraping patiently at the concrete.

RED (V.O.)

Like I said. In prison, a man'll do most anything to keep his mind

occupied.

He hears FOOTSTEPS approaching. He smoothes the poster down and dives into bed. A GUARD

strolls by a moment later, shining his

flashlight into the cell.

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PART 16

235 EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1953) 235

Andy strolls along, whistling softly, hands in both pockets. TILT DOWN to his pantleg. Concrete grit

trickles out.

RED (V.O.)

It turns out Andy's favorite hobby was totin' his wall out into the

exercise yard a handful at a time...

236 INT -- 2ND TIER -- NIGHT (1962) 236

A GUARD strolls the tier, shining his flashlight into the cells. He pauses at Andy's bars, playing the

beam over the sleeping form huddled under the blankets.

p37 REVERSE ANGLE (FROM INS1DE ANDY'S CELL) 237

We see what the guard doesn't: instead of Andy's head under the blanket, it's a wadded-up pillow.

The flashlight plays across the cell, pinning Marilyn Monroe in a circle of light.

238 ANGLE FROM BEHIND POSTER 238

The light illuminates her face through the paper. WIDEN to reveal Andy lying in his tunnel, holding

his breath. The light clicks off. The FOOTSTEPS move on. He gets back to work.

RED (V.O.)

While the rest of us slept, Andy spent years workin' the nightshift...

239 INT -- SHAFT -- NIGHT (1965) 239

BOOMING SLOWLY UP the shaft. Rats scurry the pipes. Suddenly, a piece of concrete the size of

a quarter jumps free and plummets down the shaft as the rock-hammer pushes through. The pick

withdraws, replaced by Andy's peering eye.

240 A SERIES OF DISSOLVES (1965 through 1966) 240

takes us through the widening of the hole. First as big as a tea cup. Then a saucer. Then a dinner

plate.

RED (V.O.)

Probably took him most of a year just to get his head through.

Andy finally gets his head through, scraping his ears. He's got a penlight clenched in his teeth. He

peers down into the shaft. At the very bottom, maybe 20 feet down, a big ceramic pipe runs the

length of the cellblock. Beneath its coat of grime and dust, the word "SEWER" is stenciled.

241 EXT -- LOADING DOCK ACCESS -- NIGHT (1966) 241

ANGLE LOOKING STRAIGHT DOWN. Below us, Tommy Williams lies facedown at Norton's feet.

Blood is spreading, fanning out of the pavement. Norton turns, strolls out of frame.

RED (V.O.)

I guess after Tommy was killed, Andy decided he'd been here just

about long enough.

Again we see: Andy working. Norton pokes his head in.

NORTON

Lickety-split. I wanna get home.

ANDY

Just about done, sir.

Norton crosses to the wall safe and works the dial, his back turned. This time, though, we stay on

Andy:

He pulls up his sweater, yanks out a large black book and a stack of files, lays them on the desk.

He then grabs the real ledger and files, jams them down his pants and smoothes his sweater down.

He picks up the bogus stack, crosses to Norton, and shoves everything in.

63

243 INT -- HALLWAY -- NIGHT (1966) 243

Norton exits his office and strolls off whistling. PUSH IN on the open door. We see Andy at the

guard's desk, pulling Norton's dress shoes from their box.

RED (V.O.)

Andy did like he was told. Buffed those shoes to a high mirror shine.

244 INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- MINUTES LATER (1966) 244

Andy sorts through Norton's three suits. He pauses, checking the gray pinstripe. Nice.

245 INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- NIGHT (1966) 245

The guard BUZZES Andy through. Andy walks toward us.

RED (V.O.)

The guard simply didn't notice. Neither did I. I mean, seriously, how often do you really look at a

man's shoes?

TILT DOWN as he passes by. Yep, he's wearing Norton's shoes.

246 INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1966) 246

The lights go out. Andy places the last chess piece. Gazes up at Racquel. Smiles. Pulls the rope

from under his pillow. He stands and unbuttons his prison shirt, revealing Norton's gray pinstripe

suit underneath. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING floods the cell, throwing wild shadows.

247 INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1966) 247

The storm rages. Andy, naked, carefully slips Norton's folded suit into a large industrial Zip-Lock

bag. Next to go in are the shoes, chess pieces (already in a smaller bag), black ledger en files.

Last but not least, a bar of soap wrapped in a towel.

248 INT -- TUNNEL -- NIGHT (1966) 248

Andy, again wearing prison clothes, inches down the tunnel.

249 INT -- SHAFT -- NIGHT (1966) 249

Andy squeezes through the hole head-first, emerges to the waist, He reaches for the opposite wall,

manages to snag a steel conduit with his fingers.

Suddenly, a huge rat darts for his hand. Andy yanks away and almost plummets head-first down

the shaft. He dangles wildly upside-down for a moment, arms windmilling, then gets his hands

pressed firmly against the opposite wall. The rat scurries off, pissed.

Andy snags the conduit again. He contorts out of the hole and dangles into the shaft. We now see

the purpose for the rope: the plastic bag hangs from his ankle with about two feet of slack,

He kicks his legs across the shaft, gets his feet braced. Wit3 his back against one wall and feet

against the other, he starts down the shaft. Sliding dangerously. Using pipes for handholds.

Flinching as rats dart this way and that, scurrying in the shadows. He drops the last few feet to the

bottom.

He approaches the ceramic sewer pipe and kneels before it. Pulls out the rock-hammer and says

a quick silent prayer. Raises the rock-hammer high and swings it down with all his might. Once,

twice -- third time lucky. An enormous eruption of sewage cascades into the air as if

rocket-propelled, the Mount St. Helens of shit. Andy is instantly coated black. He turns away and

heaves his guts out. The shit keeps coming.

250 INT -- SEWER PIPE -- NIGHT (1966) 250

Andy peers down through the hole, playing his penlight aroun5, The inside diameter is no more

than two feet. Tight squeeze. Coated with crud. It seems to go on for miles.

No turning back. He wriggles into the pipe and starts crawling, plastic bag dragging behind.

RED (V.O.)

Andy crawled to freedom through five hundred yards of shit-smelling

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foulness I can't even imagine. Or maybe I just don't want to.

251 EXT -- FIELD -- NIGHT (1966) 251

Rain is falling in solid sheets. Shawshank is half a mile distant. BOOM DOWN to reveal the

creek...and PUSH IN toward the mouth of the sewer pipe that feeds into it.

RED (V.O.)

Five hundred yards. The length of five football fields. Just shy of half a mile.

Fingers appear, thrusting through the heavy-gauge wire mesh covering the mouth of the pipe.

Andy's face looms from the darkness, peering out at freedom. He wrenches the mesh loose,

pushes himself out, and plunges head-first into the creek. He comes up sputtering for breath. The

water is waist-deep.

He wades upstream, ripping his clothes from his body. He gets his shirt off, spins it through the air

over his head, flings the shirt away. He raises his arms to the sky, turning slowly, feeling the rain

washing him clean. Exultant. Triumphant. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING arcs from horizon to horizon.

252 INT -- ANDY'S TUNNEL -- DAY (1966) 252

Once again, we see stunned faces as CAMERA PULLS BACK.

RED (V.O.)

The next morning, right about the time Racquel was spilling her

little secret...

253 INT -- CASCO BANK OF PORTLAND -- MORNING (1966) 253

The door opens. Spit-shined shoes enter. DOLLY the shoes to the counter.

RED (V.O.)

...a man nobody ever laid eyes on before strolled into the Casco Bank

of Portland. Until that moment, he didn't exist -- except on paper.

FEMALE TELLER (O.S.)

May I help you?

TILT UP to Andy. Smiling in Norton's gray pinstripe suit.

ANDY

My name is Peter Stevens. I've come to close out some accounts.

254 INT -- BANK -- SHORTLY LATER (1966) 254

The teller is cutting a cashier's check while the MANAGER carefully examines Mr. Stevens'

various I.D.s.

RED (V.O.)

He had all the proper I.D. Driver's license, birth certificate, social

security card. The signature was a spot-on match.

MANAGER

I must say I'm sorry to be losing your business. I hope you'll enjoy

living abroad.

ANDY

Thank you. I'm sure I will.

TELLER

Here's your cashier's check, sir. Will there be anything else?

ANDY

Please. Would you add this to your outgoing mail?

He hands her a package, stamped and addressed. Gives them a

pleasant smile. Turns and strolls from the bank.

RED (V.O.)

65

Mr. Stevens visited nearly a dozen banks in the Portland area that

morning. All told, he blew town with better than 370 thousand dollars of Warden Norton's money.

Severance pay for nineteen years.

255 INT -- OFFICE -- DAY (1966) 255

A MAN in shirtsleeves is going through the mail on his desk. He finds Andy's package, rips it open.

Pulls out the black ledger and files. Scans a cover letter. Holy shit. He dashes to his door and

yanks it open, revealing the words on the glass: "PORTLAND DAILY BUGLE -- Editor In Chief."

MAN

Hal! Dave! Get your butts in here!

256 INT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- DAY (1966) 256

Norton walks slowly toward his office. Dazed. The morning paper in his hand. He goes wordlessly

past the DUTY GUARD into his office. Shuts the door. Lays the paper on his desk.

The headline reads: "CORRUPTION AND MURDER AT SHAWSHANK."

Below that, the sub-headline: "D.A. Has Ledger. Indictments

Expected." Norton looks up as SIRENS SWELL in the distance.

257 EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- WIDE SHOT -- DAY (1966) 257

For the second time, State Police cruisers go rocketing up the road with SIRENS AND LIGHTS.

258 INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- DAY (1966) 258

Norton opens his safe and pulls out the "ledger" -- it's Andy's Bible. The title page is inscribed by

hand: "Dear Warden. You were right. Salvation lay within." Norton flips to the center of the book --

and finds the pages hollowed out in the shape of a rock-hammer.

259 EXT -- PRISON -- DAY (1966) 259

Police cruisers everywhere. A media circus. REPORTERS jostle

for position. A colorless DISTRICT ATTORNEY steps forward into

CLOSEUP, flanked by a contingent of S.ATE TROOPERS.

D.A.

Byron Hadley?

ANGLE SHIFTS to reveal Captain Hadley. Staring. Waiting.

D.A.

You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right, anything you say will be used against

you in court...

TROOPERS move in, cuffing Hadley's hands behind his back. The

D.A. drones on. FLASHBULBS POP. Hadley says nothing. His face

scrunches up. He begins to cry.

RED (V.O.)

I wasn't there to see it, but I hear Byron Hadley was sobbing like a little girl when they took him

away.

Hadley sobs all the way to the car. The D.A. snaps a gaze up toward Norton's window, motions his

men to follow.

66

PART 17

260 INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- DAY (1966) 260

Norton is staring out the window as they approach the building. He goes to his desk, opens a

drawer. Inside lies a revolver and a box of shells.

RED (V.O.)

Norton had no intention of goin' that quietly.

261 INT -- PRISON CORRIDORS -- DAY (1966) 261

The D.A. marches along amidst a phalanx of TROOPERS.

262 INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- DAY (1966) 262

Norton sits blankly at his desk, revolver before him. The doorknob rattles, a VOICE is heard:

D.A. (O.S.)

Samuel Norton? We have a warrant for your arrest! Open up!

The POUNDING starts. Norton dumps the box of bullets out on thr

desk. He starts sorting them to see which ones he likes.

263 OUTSIDE HIS OFFICE 263

Troopers hustle the hapless duty guard to Norton's door as he fumbles nervously with a huge key

ring.

DUTY GUARD

I'm not sure which one it is...

He starts trying keys in the lock. And as the keys go sliding in one after another...

264 INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- DAY (1966) 264

...so do the bullets. Norton is riveted to the door. For every key, he loads another bullet. Methodical

and grim. He gets the final bullet in just as the right key slams home. The door bursts open. Men

muscle in. Somebody SHOUTS. Troopers dive in all directions as Norton raises the gun --

-- and jams it under his chin. His head snaps back as the wall goes red. His swivel chair does a

slow half-turn and creaks to a final stop. Troopers rise slowly, gazing in horror.

RED (V.O.)

I like to think the last thing that went through his head...other than

that bullet...was to wonder how the hell Andy Dufresne ever got the

best of him.

PUSH SLOWLY to the wall to reveal Mrs. Norton's framed sampler

trickling blood and brains...and we get our final Bible lesson for today: "HIS JUDGMENT COMETH

AND THAT RIGHT SOON."

265 EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1966) 265

Mail call. Red hears his name. They pass him a postcard.

RED (V.O.)

Not long after the warden deprived us of his company, I got a postcard in the mail. It was blank.

But the postmark said, "McNary, Texas."

266 INT -- LIBRARY -- DAY (1966) 266

Red sits with an atlas, tracing his finger down the page.

RED (V.O.)

McNary. Right on the border. That's where Andy crossed.

(shuts the book)

When I picture him heading south in his own car with the top down, it

makes me laugh all over again...

267 EXT -- MEXICO -- HIGHWAY -- DAY (1966) 267

67

A red convertible rips along with Andy at the wheel, cigar jutting from his grin, warm wind fluttering

his tie.

RED (V.O.)

Andy Dufresne, who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side. Andy

Dufresne, headed for the Pacific.

268 INT -- MESS HALL -- DAY (1966) 268

Heywood is regaling the table with some anecdote about Andy.

RED (V.O.)

Those of us who knew him best talk about him often. I swear, the stuff he pulled. It always makes

us laugh.

A wild burst of laughter. PUSH IN on Red. Feeling melancholy.

RED (V.O.)

Sometimes it makes me sad, though, Andy being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds

aren't meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are just too bright...

269 EXT -- FIELDS -- LATE DAY (1966) 269

Convicts hoe the fields. Guards patrol on horseback.

RED (V.O.)

...and when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to

lock them up does rejoice...but still, the place you live is that much more drab and empty that

they're gone.

A DISTANT RUMBLE OF THUNDER. Red pauses, gazes off. Storm clouds coming in, backlit by

the sun. A light drizzle begins.

RED (V.O.)

I guess I just miss my friend.

270 INT -- PRISON CELL -- NIGHT (1966) 270

Red is sleeping. He wakes with a start.

RED (V.O.)

But there are times I curse him for the dreams he left behind...

He senses a presence, looks over his shoulder. There's a Rita

Hayworth poster on his wall. He gets out of bed. Rita just

keeps smiling, inscrutable. As Red watches, a brilliant round glow builds behind the poster, shining

from the tunnel. The poster rips free, charred to ash in the blink of an eye as a shaft of holy white

light stabs into the cell. Sunlight. Red staggers back against the glare.

A whirlwind kicks up, whipping everything into the air. The hole in the wall is like a giant vacuum

cleaner -- papers, book, toiletries, bedding -- if it ain't nailed down, it gets sucked down the hole

toward the light. Red fights it, but the suction drags him closer and closer...

271 RED'S POV 271

...and CAMERA rockets into the hole, getting sucked down an endless tunnel at impossible speed,

the ROAR of air mixing with his drawn-out SCREAM, closer and closer to the light...

...and erupting out the other side into total silence and a beautiful white beach. The Pacific Ocean

before us. Enormous. Mind-blowing. Beautiful beyond description. All we hear now are the gentle

sound of waves.

RED (V.O.)

...dreams where I am lost in a warm place with no memory.

A lone figure stands at water's edge. CAMERA KEEPS MOVING,

coming up behind him and TRACKING AROUND to reveal -- Red.

68

RED (V.O.)

An ocean so big it strikes me dumb. Waves so quiet they strike me deaf. Sunshine so bright it

strikes me blind. It is a place that is blue

beyond reason. Bluer than can possibly exist. Bluer than my mind

can possibly grasp.

272 AERIAL SHOT 272

Nothing for a million miles but beach, sky, and water. Red is a tiny speck at water's edge. Just

another grain of sand.

RED (V.O.)

I am terrified. There is no way home.

273 INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1966) 273

Red wakes from the nightmare. He gets out of bed. Moves to the

barred window of his cell. Peers up at the stars.

RED (V.O.)

Andy. I know you're in that place. Look at the stars for me just after

sunset. Touch the sand...wade in the water...and feel free.

FADE TO BLACK

274 AN IRON-BARRED DOOR 274

slides open with an enormous CLANG. A stark room beyond.

CAMERA PUSHES through. SIX MEN AND ONE WOMAN sit at a long table. An empty chair

faces them. We are again in:

INT -- SHAWSHANK HEARINGS ROOM -- DAY (1967)

Red enters, sits. 20 years older than when we first saw him.

MAN #1

Your file says you've served forty years of a life sentence. You feel

you've been rehabilitated?

Red doesn't answer. Just stares off. Seconds tick by. The parole board exchanges glances.

Somebody clears his throat.

MAN #1

Shall I repeat the question?

RED

I heard you. Rehabilitated. Let's see now. You know, come to think of it, I have no idea what that

means.

MAN #2

Well, it means you're ready to rejoin society as a--

RED

I know what you think it means. Me, I think it's a made-up word, a politician's word. A word so

young fellas like you can wear a suit and tie and have a job. What do you really want to know? Am

I sorry for what I did?

- -----

MAN g2

Well...are you?

RED

Not a day goes by I don't feel regret, and not because I'm in here or because you think I should. I

look back on myself the way I was...stupid kid who did that terrible crime...wish I could talk sense

to him. Tell him how things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone, this old man is all that's left, and I

69

have to live with that.

(beat)

"Rehabilitated?" That's a bullshit word, so you just go on ahead and

stamp that form there, sonny, and stop wasting my damn time. Truth

is, I don't give a shit.

The parole board just stares. Red sits drumming his fingers.

CLOSEUP -- PAROLE FORM

A big rubber stamp SLAMS down -- and lifts away to reveal the

word "APPROVED" in red ink.

275 EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- DAY 275

TWO SHORT SIREN BLASTS herald the opening of the main gate. It swings hugely open,

revealing Red standing in his cheap suit, carrying a cheap bag, wearing a cheap hat. He walks out,

still looking stunned.

276 INT -- BUS -- DAY 276

Red rides the bus, clutching the seat before him, gripped by terror of speed and motion.

277 EXT -- BREWSTER HOTEL -- LATE AFTERNOON 277

Red arrives at the Brewster, three stories high and even less to look at than it used to be.

27B INT -- BREWSTER -- LATE DAY 278

A BLACK WOMAN leads Red up the stairs toward the top floor.

279 INT -- RED'S ROOM -- LATE DAY 279

Small, old, dingy. An arched window with a view of Congress Street. Traffic noise floats up. Red

enters and pauses, staring up at the ceiling beam. Carved into the wood are the words: "Brooks

Hatlen was here."

280 INT -- FOODWAY MARKET -- DAY 280

Loud. Jangling with PEOPLE and NOISE. We find Red bagging

groceries. Registers are humming, kids are shrieking. Red calls to the STORE MANAGER:

RED

Sir? Restroom break sir?

MANAGER

(motions him over)

You don't need to ask me every time you go take a piss. Just go.

Understand?

70

PART 18

28l INT -- EMPLOYEE RESTROOM -- DAY 281

Red steps to the urinal, stares at himself in the wall mirror.

RED (V.O.)

Thirty years I've been asking permission to piss. I can't squeeze

a drop without say-so.

A strange east Indian guitar-whine begins. The Beatles. George

Harrison's "Within You Without You..."

282 EXT -- STREET -- DAY 282

...which carries through as Red walks. People and traffic. He keeps looking at the women. An alien

species.

RED (V.O.)

Women, too, that's the other thing. I forgot they were half the human

race. There's women everywhere, every shape and size. I find myself

semi-hard most of the time, cursing myself for a dirty old man.

TWO YOUNG WOMEN stroll by in cut-offs and t-shirts.

RED (V.O.)

Not a brassiere to be seen, nipples poking out at the world. Jeezus,

pleeze-us. Back in my day, a woman out in public like that would have been arrested and given a

sanity hearing.

283 EXT -- PARK -- DUSK 283

Red finds the park filled with HIPPIES. Hanging out. Happening. Here's the source of the music: a

radio. A HIPPIE GIRL gyrates to the Beatles, stoned, in her own world.

RED (V.O.)

They're calling this the Summer of Love. Summer of Loonies, you ask me.

284 INT -- PAROLE OFFICE -- DAY 284

Red sits across from his PAROLE OFFICER. The P.O. is filling out his report.

P.O.

You staying out of the bars, Red?

RED

Yes sir. That I am.

P.O.

How you doing otherwise? Adjusting okay?

RED

Things got different out here.

P.O.

Tell me about it. Young punks protesting the war. You imagine?

Even my own kid. Oughtta bust his fuckin' skull.

RED

Guess the world moved on.

285 INT -- FOODWAY -- DAY 285

Bagging groceries. CHILDREN underfoot. One points a toy gun at

Red, pumping the trigger. Red focuses on the gun, listening to it CLICKETY-CLACK. Sparky wheel

grinding.

The kids get swept off by MOM. Red starts bagging the next

customer. SLOW PUSH IN on Red. Surrounded by MOTION and NOISE.

71

Feeling like the eye of a hurricane. People everywhere, whipping around him like a gale. Strange.

Loud. Dizzying. It gets distorted and weird, slow and thick, pressing in on him from all sides. The

noise level intensifies. The hollering of children deepens and distends into LOW EERIE HOWLS.

He's in the grip of a major anxiety attack. Tries to shake himself out of it. Can't. Fumbles the final

items into the bag. Walks away. Trying not to panic. Trying not to run.

He makes his way through the store. Blinking sweat. He bumps into a lady's cart, mumbles an

apology, keeps going. Breaks into a trot. Down the aisle, cut to the left, through the door into the

back rooms, faster and faster, running now, slamming through a door marked "Employees Only"

into --

286 INT -- EMPLOYEE RESTROOM -- DAY 286

-- where he slams the door and leans heavily against it, shutting everything out, breathing heavily.

Alone now.

He goes to the sink, splashes his face, tries to calm down. He can still hear them out there. They

won't go away. He glances around the restroom. Small. Not small enough.

He enters a stall. Locks the door. Puts the toilet lid down and sits on the john. Better. He can

actually reach out and touch the walls now. They're close. Safe. Almost small enough. He draws

his feet up so he can't be seen if somebody walks in.

He'll just sit here for a while. Until he calms down.

287 EXT -- STREET -- DUSK 287

Red is walking home.

RED (V.O.)

There is a harsh truth to face. No way I'm gonna make it on the

outside.

He pauses at a pawnshop window. An array of handguns.

RED (V.O.)

All I do anymore is think of ways to break my parole.

The SHOPKEEPER appears at the glass, locking the door and

flipping the sign: CLOSED.

288 INT -- RED'S ROOM -- NIGHT 288

Red lies smoking in bed. Unable to sleep.

RED (V.O.)

Terrible thing, to live in fear. Brooks Hatlen knew it. Knew it all too well. All I want is to be back

where things make sense. Where I won't have to be afraid all the time.

He glances up at the ceiling beam. "Brooks Hatlen was here."

RED (V.O.)

Only one thing stops me. A promise I made to Andy.

289 EXT -- COUNTRY ROAD -- MORNING 289

A pickup truck rattles up the road trailing dust and pulls to

a stop. Red hops off the back, waves his thanks. The truck

drives on. Red starts walking. PAN TO a roadside sign: BUXTON.

290 EXT -- MAINE COUNTRYSIDE -- DAY 290

High white clouds in a blazing blue sky. The trees fiery with

autumn color. Red walks the fields and back-roads, cheap

compass in hand. Looking for a certain hayfield.

291 EXT -- COUNTRYSIDE -- DAY 291

Walking. Searching. The day turning late. Red finds himself

72

staring at a distant field. There's a long rock wall, like

something out o f a Robert Frost poem. Big oak tree. Red checks

his compass. North end. He crosses a dirt road into the field.

292 EXT -- HAYFIELD -- DAY 292

Red walks the long rock wall, nearing the tree. A squirrel scolds him from a low branch, scurries up

higher. Red studies the base of the wall. Nothing unusual here. Just a bunch of rocks set in stone.

He sighs. Fool's errand. Turns to go.

Something catches his eye. He walks back, squats, peering closer. Wets a fingertip and rubs a

stone. A layer of dust comes off. Volcanic glass. Gleaming black. He tries to get the rock out,

anticipation growing. It won't come; it's too smooth. He pulls a pocketknife and levers the rock free.

It tumbles at his feet, leaving a ragged hole.

Red leans down and solves the mystery at last, staring at the object buried under the rock.

Stunned. It's an envelope wrapped in plastic. Written on it is a single word: "Red."

Red pulls the envelope out and rises. He just stares at it for a while, almost afraid to open it. But

open it he does. Inside is a smaller envelope and a letter. Red begins to read:

ANDY (V.O.)

Dear Red. If you're reading this, you've gotten out. And if you've

come this far, maybe you're willing to come a little further. You

remember the name of the town, don't you? I could use a good man

to help me get my project on wheels. I'll keep an eye out for you and the chessboard ready.

(beat)

Remember, Red. Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. I

will be hoping that this letter finds you, and finds you well. Your friend. Andy.

By now, tears are spilling silently down Red's cheeks. He opens the other envelope and fans out a

stack of new fifty- dollar bills. Twenty of them. A thousand dollars.

293 INT -- RED'S ROOM -- DAY (1967) 293

Red is dressed in his suit. He finishes knotting his tie, puts his hat on. His bag is by the door. He

takes one last look around. Only one thing left to do. He pulls a wooden chair to the center of the

room and gazes up at the ceiling beam.

RED (V.O.)

Get busy living or get busy dying. That is goddamn right.

He steps up on the chair. It wobbles under his weight.

294 INT -- BREWSTER -- RED'S DOOR -- DAY (1967) 294

The door opens. Red exits with his bag and heads down the stairs, leaving the door open.

CAMERA PUSHES through, BOOMING

UP to the ceiling beam which reads: "Brooks Hatlen was here."

A new message has been carved alongside the old: "So was Red."

295 INT -- GREYHOUND BUS STATION -- DAY (1967) 295

TRACKING SHOT reveals a long line of people at the counter.

RED (V.O.)

For the second time in my life, I am guilty of committing a crime.

CAMERA brings us to Red, next in line, bag by his feet.

RED (V.O.)

Parole violation. I doubt they'll toss up any roadblocks for that.

Not for an old crook like me.

RED

73

(steps up)

McNary, Texas?

296 EXT -- TRAVELING SHOT -- DAY (1967) 296

A gorgeous New England landscape whizzes by, fields and trees

a blur of motion. ANGLE SHIFTS to reveal a Greyhound Sceni-

Cruiser barreling up the road, pulling abreast of us. CAMERA

TRAVELS from window to window, passing faces. We finally come

to Red gazing out at the passing landscape.

RED (V.O.)

I find I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement

only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain...

297 THE BUS 297

ROARS past camera, dwindling to a mere speck on the horizon.

RED (V.O.)

I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the

Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams.

(beat)

I hope.

298 EXT -- BEACH -- WIDE PANORAMIC SHOT -- DAY (1967) 298

A distant boat lies on its side in the sand like an old wreck that's been left to rot in the sun. There's

someone out there.

299 CLOSER ON BOAT 299

A MAN is meticulously stripping the old paint and varnish by hand, face hidden with goggles and

kerchief mask.

Red appears b.g., a distant figure walking out across the sand, wearing his cheap suit and carrying

his cheap bag.

The man on the boat pauses. Turns slowly around. Red arrives with a smile as wide as the horizon.

The other man raises his goggles and pulls down his mask. Andy, of course.

ANDY

You look like a man who knows how to get things.

RED

I'm known to locate certain things from time to time.

Red shrugs off his jacket and picks up a sander. Together, they start sanding the hull as we fade

out

THE END

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