INT. PSYCHIATRIST’S OFFICE - DAY
GORDON EUMANETTE, mid-thirties, tall, dressed stylishly lays on the couch. His face reveals his clinically depressed state.
GORDON
Some days it’s harder, John.
(a beat)
Sometimes it seems like they’re not
working.
The psychiatrist, JOHN, late-middle-age man, white. He couldn’t care less.
JOHN
I’ll increase the dosage, Gordon.
OK. Now, where did we leave off?
Oh, right. The dreams.
GORDON
They weren’t dreams, John. I keep
telling you.
JOHN
Go on, then, Gordon.
CUT TO:
INT. MODEST APARTMENT - FLASHBACK
A ten-year-old Gordon stands at the bedroom door of a man in his late thirties, his father, ISRAEL. On orden’s face is an awestruck expression.
GORDON (V.O.)
It was in my father’s bedroom where
I’d see her standing over him as he
worked on his column for the
Holtsville Press, a journal that
focused on political corruption in
City Hall. Popular in the early
part of the Reagan years.
INTERCUT: Israel is at his desk, typing. Standing over him is Senerara, (Sarah in scene#1)in fifties style women’s business dress. Her attention is sharply focused on the writer’s work.
Return to scene.
GORDON (V.O.)
I’d watch her, reading over his shoulder.
There were times she’d grow ecstatic,
bouncing, clapping, nothing but glee.
Gorden’s eyes bulge.
GORDON (V.O.)
I’d watch my father as he would throw
his head back and laugh, like in his words
he’d uncovered some priceless treasure.
On Senerawa with her hands clasped in front of her face, looking up with rapture as Israel throws his head back and laughs.
GORDON (V.O.)
One time, I called his name. I wanted to
ask him about the woman. When I spoke,
she and my father looked at me, both with a
smile of unimaginable peace, unimaginable joy.
Israel opens his arms inviting Gordon inside for the embrace. As Gordon walks into the bedroom, Senerawa
disappears.
CUT TO:
INT. PSYCHIATRIST’S OFFICE - DAY - END FLASHBACK
John looks at Gordon with a cold, dead expression.
GORDON
Then, she just disappeared.
JOHN
You said something about her crying.
GORDON
That was the dream. That was after my
father was sentenced.
JOHN
Oh, yes. The day that changed your
life. Care to discuss the details of that?
GORDON
A woman my father was dating, was found
murdered in her apartment a couple of
doors from us.
John writes in his note pad "poor bastard". He then looks at Gordon with mock sympathy.
GORDON (CONTD)
I had spent the night at my aunt’s house.
The neighbors said they had heard them
arguing earlier that same morning, around
three or so, that my father was accusing
her of sleeping around.
John writes "You poor fool", looks at Gordon and smiles.
GORDON (CONTD)
My aunt was dropping me off just as the
police were taking him away. I stayed in
the car while she talked to them.
Strangely, John starts laughing to himself as he looks at Gordon.
GORDON (CONTD)
I had begun to hear the details of it while
living with my aunt. In his trial, three of our
neighbors said that they heard a crash before
my father came running out of her apartment.
It’s all John can do to keep a straight face.
GORDON (CONTD)
After all the damning testimony from more
so-called friends, the circumstantial evidence,
my father’s sperm inside of the victim, his
prints on the hammer that killed her, he was,
convicted.
JOHN
Naturally.
GORDON
It was about a year into his sentence when
I first had the dream of the woman crying
as she was crouched down in a corner of his
room.
Insert: Flashback of dream. Senerawa is dressed in black with the veil of her hat covering her face.
GORDON (V.O.)
In the dream I remember looking at her, then
at my father sitting at his desk, dressed in
dungarees, and I ask...
GORDON
(the child)
Why is she crying, daddy?
ISRAEL
Because she knows that, here, she won’t
be able to save me.
Return to scene.
GORDON
The next morning, my aunt got a call from
the penitentiary saying he was killed the
night before; ambushed by two inmates on
the basketball court.
JOHN
(sarcastically)
Oh my.
GORDON
Rumor has it that the men responsible
had their sentences commuted the
following week, that the men were
picked up in a limousine. It’s rumored
that the driver was a man who worked
for Mayor Damon Kenneth.
With the same wry smile, John continues looking at him. There’s a KNOCK on the door.
JOHN
Come in.
Theresa sticks her head in the room.
THERESA
Seemed to be lasting a little long,
this time.
JOHN
We were just winding up. Come on
in.
Theresa strolls in.
GORDON
Hey, baby.
THERESA
(Dryly)
Hey.
The men stand. Gordon gives Theresa a kiss on the cheek.
JOHN
Your boy, here, says the meds aren’t
working anymore. I decided to increase
the dosage.
THERESA
Thanks, John. (a beat) Gordon, baby, the
receptionist is waiting to schedule your follow
up appointment.
Gordon heads for the door. John and Theresa wait until he’s out. They then turn and look at each other. The look is villainous.
INT. RECEPTIONIST’S DESK OF LOBBY
The receptionist is as rude as they come.
RECEPTIONIST
A time you’d prefer?
GORDON
Late morning would be perfect.
RECEPTIONIST
(stridently)
A time you’d prefer?
Gordon retrieves his pocket size notebook and thumbs through it.
GORDON
Let’s see.
RECEPTIONIST
Well.
Gordon smiles, nervously, as he continues thumbing through his notebook.
GORDON
Just a minute, please.
INT. PSYCHIATRIST’S OFFICE - SAME
John and Theresa stand toe to toe as they whisper.
JOHN
So, are you sure you want to go through
with this, Theresa? There are other ways.
THERESA
I don’t have time for other ways. John hands
Theresa the proscription.
JOHN
OK. Have you been keeping the others abreast?
THERESA
Yeah. Yeah, sure, John. OK? We’ll talk, later.
He kisses her on the forehead. She turns and heads for the door.
INT. HALLWAY - SAME
Theresa marches towards lobby. Sensing a presence around her, she slows down. She stops at the open bathroom, adjacent to the hallway. She peers inside seeing only darkness. She’s cautious as she edges nearer.
THERESA
Hello?
Theresa hears and see’s nothing. She backs away from the room, now more terrified than ever. Something is terribly wrong. A chill rushes through her core as she turns and practically bolts down the hall to the lobby.
THERESA (O.C.)
Come on, Gordon. Let’s get out of here.
Now from the dark restroom an image slowly begins to emerge. An apparently naked Senerawa Press steps out into the light.
And she appears fit to kill.
