A kid has the good stuff, stuff others are willing to kill for, but in the end no one gets it. Originally written for an NYC Midnight contest.
FADE IN:
EXT. RIVER BANK – NIGHT
Tall, lanky, 17-year-old GERALD KUSHNER is running toward the south bank of the Rocky River. He's dressed only in colorful swim trunks and mesh shoes. His swimming goggles are pushed up to his forehead, and he's carrying a mesh backpack with a snorkel in it in his left hand.
He stops at the river bank, drops the backpack, and bends over, breathing heavily. He stares at the foundered wreckage of the Mary Harmon, an old whaling boat. It's half-submerged in 10 feet of water 30 feet from the bank.
He stands tall and looks back toward where he'd come from. A black Mercedes sedan is parking at the side of the road.
GERALD
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!
He picks up the backpack, opens it, and pulls out the snorkel, as he quickly moves into the river, clipping the backpack to his trunks. He puts the snorkel into his mouth and clears it, pulls the goggles down over his eyes, and dives into the water just as a gunshot rings out.
INT. BLACK MERCEDES SEDAN – NIGHT
VAL
What the christ, Carl!
VAL, a 57-year-old woman, and the owner of the black Mercedes sedan, is dressed sharply and professionally. She stares at the man in the passenger seat, raising her right hand as if to smack him.
VAL (CONT'D)
Put the gun away!
Val lowers her hand, and 30-something CARL, stares back at her. After a few seconds he drops his gaze, adjusts the open collar of his wrinkled, white dress shirt, rolls the sleeves up a little farther, and jams his 9mm P226 into the holster by his left shoulder.
CARL
Oh, come on, Val, it was just a warning shot. No harm, no foul.
VAL
No harm? No foul? You'll have the locals here, and then what, huh?
Continuing to stare at Carl, she taps her temple.
VAL (CONT'D)
Think for once!
She relaxes her demeanor.
VAL (CONT'D)
Look, Carl, this can be a big score for us. We need the kid. He's our shortcut to the good stuff, so don't blow it, okay?
They sit silently for a few minutes. Val looks around. There are no sirens, no headlights.
VAL (CONT'D)
Okay, let's move.
EXT. RIVER – NIGHT
Gerald is submerged to eye level. His snorkel is in his mouth, and his goggles cover his eyes. His right hand is touching the rotting hull of the Mary Harmon.
He looks around. Val and Carl are on the river bank.
EXT. RIVER BANK – NIGHT
Val and Carl, guns drawn, are slowly approaching the river. There only sounds are the river and the crickets.
VAL
Dammit, Carl, you scared him off with that gunshot.
She suddenly snaps her head toward the boat.
VAL (CONT'D)
Did you see that? By the boat?
CARL
I didn't see anything, Val.
He looks around, shivering.
CARL (CONT'D)
Come on, Val, let's get outta here. He's gone, in the wind.
Val cocks her head and watches the boat intently.
VAL
Nope. He's here.
EXT. RIVER – NIGHT
Gerald appears calmer now, as if the water soothes him. Val and Carl are only 25 feet away on the bank. Gerald slips below the river's surface.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. THE MARY HARMON'S HULL – NIGHT
Gerald's head pops back above the water. A full moon provides some light through holes in the wood. Gerald looks around and swims the short distance to the far side of the hull. He picks up a small flashlight he has stashed there, clicks it on, and smiles.
GERALD
Yes! Still here!
He pats the mesh bag tied to the hull. It's filled with mushrooms, underwater mushrooms, the good stuff. Moving around confidently, he spots and picks seven or eight more from the hull and places them into the bag before he disappears again below the surface of the water.
EXT. RIVER BANK – NIGHT
Val and Carl are standing on the bank, looking toward the boat. Val is in her underwear, her clothes neatly stacked in a pile back toward the road. Carl is fully clothed.
VAL
He's out there, Carl.
She waves her P228, with a silencer, toward the boat.
VAL (CONT'D)
It's time to shit or get off the pot, Carl. Let's go.
Carl hangs his head.
CARL
I… I can't swim.
VAL
Oh, for the love of…
Carl looks up to explain and Val shoots him once between the eyes. She calmly walks into the river toward the Mary Harmon, as Carl's body thuds to the ground behind her.
INT. THE MARY HARMON'S HULL – NIGHT
Gerald is hanging onto the hull, his snorkel around his neck, watching through cracks between the boards as Val approaches the boat, gun in her hand.
EXT. RIVER – NIGHT
Val is standing in the river, the water just above her waist. She's looking at the boat.
VAL
Kid, I want those mushrooms! Bring them out and you won't get hurt!
INT. THE MARY HARMON'S HULL – NIGHT
GERALD
No way! We both know they're worth five thousand an ounce! I found 'em, they're mine!
EXT. RIVER – NIGHT
VAL
There's enough for all of us!
She glances back at Carl's body on the bank.
VAL (CONT'D)
Both of us, I mean.
Val levels her gun and aims at the Mary Harmon. Before she can fire, a loud, wooden crack sounds from the boat.
GERALD (O.S.)
(from the boat's hull, mockingly)
I'm leaving now, Val!
He laughs loudly.
INT. THE MARY HARMON'S HULL – NIGHT
Gerald breaks off a mostly rotted board from the hull, sending another loud crack into the night.
GERALD
(giggling)
Just one more now and I'm out the back door.
The next board takes more effort. It finally breaks off, but that loosens the boat, which begins drifting, while Gerald hangs onto the hole he's made in the hull.
GERALD (CONT'D)
Well, hell…
About 300 yards downstream, the Mary Harmon strikes a large rock island in the middle of the river, and bursts apart.
Gerald clings to a large piece of the keel that is stuck at the rock island.
The part of the hull the mushrooms are attached to continues downstream and out of sight.
GERALD (CONT'D)
Dammit.
He slumps onto the island and sprawls, spread-eagle on his back. He gazes at the stars.
GERALD (CONT'D)
You weren't aligned tonight.
EXT. RIVER – NIGHT
Val walks back to the shore, shaking her head.
VAL
I'm surrounded by incompetence. Plenty for all of us, but, no, you had to have it all for yourself, didn't you, kid. Whatever…
She looks down as she steps over Carl's body.
VAL (CONT'D)
Sorry-not-sorry, Carl. I'd do the same again. Darwin at work.
She plugs Carl's body with another 9mm slug, picks up her pile of clothes as she passes it, and carries it to the Mercedes. She settles into the driver's seat, cranks the engine, and rolls down the road.
FADE OUT.
THE END