"LIFE" Screenplay by Robert Ramsey and Matthew Stone SHOOTING DRAFT 1999 FADE IN: EXT. PRISON CEMETERY -- DAY A handful of people are gathered in an open field under a fierce Mississippi sun. A couple of young inmates, JAKE and LEON, lean on their shovels. They are waiting to bury two identical CASKETS with inmate numbers stenciled on the pinewood lids. A GUARD rests the butt of his rifle on the ground and takes a long, healthy pull from his canteen. He offers it to the PRISON CHAPLAIN, who is much obliged. SUPERINTENDENT BILL BURKE, a 40-year-old black man, glances at his watch and loosens his tie. Sure is hot. MARY HUMPHRIES, an elderly white woman in a nurse's uniform, stands behind WILLIE LONG, an ancient inmate sleeping peacefully in a wheelchair. She readjusts an umbrella to shield the old black man from the blistering sun. Burke dabs his forehead with a handkerchief. He gives the nod to the chaplain, who steps forward and cracks his bible. The men remove their hats. CHAPLAIN In accordance with the regulations of the State of Mississippi, we gather here today to lay to rest the remains of inmates R. Gibson, number 4316, and C. Banks, number 4317. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. May God have mercy on their souls. BURKE Go ahead, fellas. The young inmates plunge their shovels into the dirt. One by one, the mourners head back toward a prison van parked on a nearby dirt road. NURSE HUMPHRIES I'll come back for you in a little while, Willie... She leaves Willie alone with Jake and Leon. He rolls his chair up to the edge of the graves and gazes at the pinewood caskets. JAKE These two guys friends of yours, old man? WILLIE We spent some time together. LEON Why do I get the feeling when you say some time, you mean some time. WILLIE I was already here a good many years when they came in in 1932. LEON 1932? That's like, that's like... WILLIE Sixty-five years ago. They always said the farm couldn't hold 'em forever. Looks like you're finally free, boys. Willie pulls a bottle of moonshine from his jacket and takes a swig in their honor. JAKE Hey, the dude's holdin'. LEON Come on, old-timer, hook the brothers up. Willie passes the bottle to Leon, who takes a swig and winces from the unexpected kick. LEON Hell of a way to get out. Heard they burned up in that fire yesterday. JAKE I seen the bodies before they sealed 'em up. Them fellas sizzled up good. Looked like some shit from the X- Files. (taking a swig from the bottle) Damn, that shit's nasty. WILLIE Ray's special recipe. He always had exacting standards where the hooch was concerned. LEON What were they, bootleggers? Willie holds up the bottle, checking the clarity of the liquor. WILLIE Something like that. MATCH CUT TO: EXT. SPANKY'S BACK ALLEY (1932) -- NIGHT RAY GIBSON holds up a similar bottle of liquor to a light over a door. Music comes from within. He takes a swig and stashes the bottle in his belt. He adjusts his tie, polishes his shoes on the back of his pants and raps on the door. INT. SPANKY'S -- NIGHT The speakeasy is jumping, jammed with people. Up on stage a hot JAZZ BAND is playing backup for a seductive CHANTEUSE. Well-heeled PATRONS enter through doors near the stage. In the back, at the end of a long hallway, a BOUNCER cracks open the door and Ray squeezes inside. BOUNCER Oh, no, Ray. Not tonight. Spanky's not happy with you. RAY Is Spanky here? BOUNCER No, but... RAY Then what's the problem? BOUNCER Do yourself a favor and find another place where they let you in the front door. RAY But this is where the action is and I have to be where the action is. Look, when your old lady wanted those alligator shoes, didn't I come through for you? Ain't she stepping in style now? BOUNCER Yeah... RAY Well, alright then. What do you think about this new tie? BOUNCER Sharp. RAY I look good tonight. And I feel lucky, too. Ray heads inside. BOUNCER Anyone asks, it wasn't me who let you in. Ray slides through the crowd, pausing at the bar to nibble on the neck of a COCKTAIL WAITRESS. COCKTAIL WAITRESS Don't even try it. RAY When do you get off? COCKTAIL WAITRESS I get off at two, but you ain't never getting off. She carries a tray of drinks into the crowd. Ray shakes his head in wonderment at her departing form. The BARKEEP steps up as Ray pulls out his bottle. BARKEEP You can't drink that in here, Ray. RAY I sure can't drink that watered-down swill you're serving. Give me a glass of ice. BARKEEP I can't give you a glass of ice. I can't give you anything until you pay your damn tab. Disregarding the warning, Ray tilts the bottle back. Shaking his head, the barkeep moves on to a paying customer. Ray's eyes follow a bottle of French Champagne as it is delivered to a nearby table. Here sits the straight-laced CLAUDE BANKS with his girlfriend, DAISY. She's enjoying the show. He's polishing the silverware. The WAITER pours two glasses of champagne and leaves the bottle on ice. Claude regards his glass skeptically. CLAUDE For the kind of money they charge here, you'd think they could hire somebody to actually wash the dishes. DAISY Claude. Here's to your new job down at the bank. I always knew you'd make something of yourself. CLAUDE Know what I'm going to buy with my first pay check? Daisy thinks she does. She leans in, eyes twinkling. CLAUDE Season tickets to the Yankees. Right there on the first base line. (off her disappointment) What's wrong, baby? DAISY I was hoping you were gonna say an engagement ring, Claude. French Champagne shoots out of Claude's nose. CLAUDE Engagement ring! DAISY That's what respectable folks do. Get a job, get married, start having babies. That's what you want, isn't it? CLAUDE Sure it is. I just don't see any reason to rush into things. Damn, look at this shirt. I'll be right back. Claude leans in to kiss Daisy on the lips. She offers her cheek. He departs. OVER BY THE BAR Ray watches Claude make a beeline for the men's room. INT. MEN'S ROOM -- NIGHT Claude steps into the bathroom and approaches the sink. A big hand falls on his shoulder and yanks him backwards into a stall... INT. STALL -- NIGHT Claude is shoved down on the toilet by two BAG MEN in suits. Suddenly, it's crowded in here. BAG MAN #1 Congratulations, Claude. We understand you finally got yourself a job. BAG MAN #2 Guess that means you can pay Mr. Riley the fifty bucks you owe him. They rifle through Claude's jacket and quickly find his wallet. CLAUDE Now wait a second, guys. I've got a bill to pay out there. BAG MAN #1 Twenty-two dollars. Not bad for a start. They toss back his empty wallet. CLAUDE Come on, fellas, that's two weeks pay. I'm here with my girl. You gotta leave me something. BAG MAN #2 How about your legs? CLAUDE My legs? Those are good, I'll keep the legs... The stall door swings shut as the bag men depart. INT. SPANKY'S -- NIGHT On his way into the Men's Room, Ray squeezes past the bag men on their way out. INT. MEN'S ROOM -- NIGHT Glancing around, Ray spots Claude's feet under the stall door. He steps up to the sink, washes his hands and takes a towel from the ATTENDANT. Scanning the assortment of grooming products, he selects a bottle of cologne and takes a sniff. RAY (displeased) You have any of that French stuff? As the attendent bends down to retrieve a bottle of the good stuff, Ray palms a coin from the tip basket. ATTENDENT Here you go. Ray offers the quarter, a gesture of uncommon generosity. RAY Keep the change. ATTENDENT Why, thank you, sir! Ray pats the cologne on his face. A toilet flushes and Claude steps over to the sink. Ray catches his eye in the mirror. RAY Don't I know you? CLAUDE I don't think so. RAY Sure I do. What's your name again? CLAUDE Claude Banks. RAY Claude Banks. How could I forget that? You've got to remember me. Ray Gibson. We went to high school together. CLAUDE You went to Monroe? RAY (beaming) That's right! Good old Monroe... Ray throws his arms around Claude, deftly snatching his wallet. Claude extracts himself from Ray's embrace. CLAUDE Well, I went to Jefferson, so you must have a different Claude Banks in mind. Claude straightens his jacket and heads for the door. Ray stashes the stolen wallet in his jacket. RAY Sorry, man. My mistake. INT. SPANKY'S -- NIGHT On the stage, the chanteuse has downshifted into a sultry number about back-door lovers and broken dreams. Ray steps out of the men's room and is instantly collared by BULLETHEAD, a man who makes his living being large and threatening. RAY Watch the threads, Bullethead. If this is about my tab, I've got it covered. Pressed up against the wall, Ray reaches into his jacket and produces Claude's wallet. Bullethead snatches it, inspects it and is not impressed. BULLETHEAD This ain't about your tab, Ray. You've got bigger problems than that. He stuffs the wallet back into Ray's jacket and hustles Ray out the back door past the bouncer who let him in. BOUNCER Is that Ray Gibson? Who the hell let him in here? BACK AT CLAUDE'S TABLE Claude returns to the table where Daisy is sipping champagne. He takes the glass out of her hand. CLAUDE Come on, honey, let's get out of here. DAISY But I'm having a good time... WAITER Excuse me, sir, I believe you forgot this. The waiter presents Claude with the bill. CLAUDE The bill. Of course, the bill. We couldn't leave without paying the bill. Especially such an incredibly large bill. INT. VAN -- NIGHT Claude is shoved into the back of the van and the doors are slammed behind him. He bangs and shouts, but it's no use. RAY Save your energy, Claude. You're gonna need it. Ray is stretched out against the back wall. Claude is knocked to the floor as the van lurches into motion. RAY Here, this belongs to you. (tossing Claude his wallet) It was empty when I found it. CLAUDE Good old Monroe. Ray swigs from his bottle and offers it to Claude, who isn't interested. RAY What I want to know is what happened to your cush between the time that you got up from the table and when I caught up with you in the Johnny? CLAUDE I don't see where that's any of your business. RAY Did those two muscle heads shake you down? Swear I've seen them down at the track with Sure-shot Riley. That's it, ain't it? A gambling debt. Busted, Claude snatches the bottle and carefully wipes off the neck before tilting it high. Ray gets a good chuckle out of this straight cat in the bow tie. CLAUDE Where they taking us, anyway? RAY Probably to Spanky's headquarters down at the pier. CLAUDE Good, I'm looking forward to meeting this Spanky. Give me a chance to straighten out this whole mess. RAY I can't wait to see that. You slay me, man. EXT. PIER -- NIGHT The van pulls into a the loading bay of a warehouse at the end of a short pier on the Harlem River. INT. WAREHOUSE -- NIGHT Bullethead and a HENCHMAN pull Ray and Claude from the back of the van. They find themselves in a dark warehouse filled with crates of contraband. CLAUDE (sotto) What are they gonna do to us? RAY You? Dine and ditch, right? (Claude nods) Over ten bucks? (he nods again) You're probably looking at a thumb. CLAUDE A thumb? What do you mean, like cut it off? For ten bucks? (Ray nods) That include the tip? Claude shoves his hands under his armpits at the sound of approaching FOOTSTEPS echoing across the vast space. Claude and Ray peer into the darkness. SPANKY (from the darkness) You picked the wrong night to fuck with me, Ray. I just lost three men and a truck full of Canadian whiskey. You know what that kind of thing does to my business? It makes me want to lash out and hurt somebody. SPANKY JOHNSON emerges into the light. He uses a small silver spoon to take an ample snort of cocaine into each nostril. He glances at Claude. SPANKY Who's he? Friend of yours, Ray? CLAUDE I never saw this man before tonight. He's a lowlife degenerate who lurks in bathrooms. I'm a professional man, an upstanding citizen. I go to church on Sunday. SPANKY Then what are you doing here? BULLETHEAD Failure to pay. CLAUDE (rattled) Look, Mr. Johnson, you seem like a reasonable man. I got a good job starts Monday. I'll pay you back with my first pay check. With interest. I don't want to tell you how to conduct your business, but if you cut off my finger you won't get jack. Working an adding machine, I gotta be whole. (his fingers dancing over imaginary keys) I need my thumbs and all my fingers for praying and doing good... Spanky holds up a hand, silencing Claude. SPANKY The choirboy wants to keep his fingers. Who am I to argue? Drop him. CLAUDE Drop him? What does drop him mean? Claude protests loudly as Bullethead and the henchman bind his hands and feet. Spanky turns to Ray. SPANKY You gotta lotta balls showing your face around my club. If a man's gonna run numbers on my side of Broadway, you think he'd have the common sense to keep a low profile. But not Ray Gibson. The goons hoist Claude up on another pulley and dangle him head first over a hole in the floor. Several feet down, the Harlem River laps against the wooden pylons. CLAUDE No, not down there! That water's filthy! Help me out here, man! Shrugging, Ray pinches his nose and puffs out his cheeks. The goons release the rope and Claude plunges into the water. Spanky turns back to Ray. RAY You don't have to drown that fella, Spanky. You already scared him half to death. He didn't know who he was fucking with. SPANKY But you do. What does that say about you, Ray? What does that say about me? I've given you a lot of leeway over the years on account of your father. But he didn't last long enough to teach you the meaning of the word respect so I guess I'm gonna have to school you myself. RAY Come on, Spank, I'm just trying to get by here. You remember how it was when you were starting out. The henchman yanks on the rope. Claude emerges from the hole, gasping for breath. CLAUDE I was supposed to wear this suit on Monday! The henchman releases the rope, sending Claude back into the water. Ray reaches into his jacket. Bullethead pulls a gun and presses it into Ray's temple. Ray gives him a look and cautiously pulls out his bottle. SPANKY What's that, some of your bathtub brew? RAY Puerto Rican rum. See for yourself. Ray tosses him the bottle. Spanky uncorks, sniffs, samples the goods. He's impressed. SPANKY Where'd you get this? RAY Comes up the Mississippi. I can get more. A lot more. I was thinking about going into business for myself, but under the circumstances, I'd be willing to take on a partner. Once again, the henchman yanks on the rope and Claude comes up sucking air desperately. He releases the rope, submerging Claude for a third time. SPANKY I'm interested. Keep talking. RAY All I need is the front money and a truck. I could be back in two, three days tops if I had somebody to share the driving. Spanky considers the terms. Can he afford to trust Ray? Can he afford not to? SPANKY If you fuck me on this one, I'll spare no expense. RAY Understood. SPANKY Alright, Ray, you've got a deal. Pick your man and get going. Ray glances around. The pulley rope is still twitching in the water. RAY I'll take the little choirboy, if you don't mind. SPANKY If I was you, I'd want somebody who can handle himself in a tight spot. RAY I just want somebody who won't put a bullet in my back once the truck is full. Spanky sees Ray's point. He nods to the henchman, who hoists Claude's limp body out of the water and onto the cement. Spanky plants a foot on Claude's chest and applies pressure. A geyser of Harlem River water shoots from Claude's mouth as he sputters back to life. SPANKY For your sake, I hope you can drive. Somebody give him some dry clothes. CUT TO: THE SPINNING WHEEL OF A TRUCK The CAMERA MOVES UP the side of the old Ford truck to find Claude sitting pensively in the passenger seat. INT. TRUCK (MOVING) -- NIGHT Ray palms the wheel. RAY Tell me about that hot sketch you were hypin' last night. She was a choice bit of calico. You two been seeing each other a long time? Gonna slap the handcuffs on her and stroll down the aisle one of these days? Tight-lipped, Claude shifts in his seat. RAY Sometimes I wish I could find me a sheba to settle down with. Suppose I'm just a tomcat by nature. (trying to fill the silence) This little rum run is gonna seriously improve my relationship with Spanky. He's a good man to have on your side. He's got the capital and the connections. That's what you got to have in that business. Spanky's place is pretty plush, but one of these days I'm gonna open up my own establishment. Ray's Boom-Boom Room. You like that? Ray's Boom-Boom Room. That's in the groove, don't you think? If Claude does like it, he's not letting on. RAY Come on, daddy-o. You haven't said a word since we started. Least you could do is make some friendly conversation. CLAUDE Look, man, I don't want friendly conversation. I don't want to be your friend. I've seen your friends and I don't like them. I just want to do this thing and get back to New York in time to start my job. RAY Start your job? What kind of job? CLAUDE Well, if you must know, bank teller at First Federal of Manhattan. I'm responsible for keeping track of hundreds, occasionally thousands of dollars. RAY That's some long green. CLAUDE Damn straight, it is. I got my own set of keys because I'm supposed to open up. So if I ain't there 8 a.m. Monday morning, there's gonna be hell to pay. Beat of silence. Ray laughs to himself. CLAUDE What? RAY Nothing. CLAUDE No, tell me what's so funny. RAY I don't know. Bank teller. Sounds like ladies work to me. CLAUDE Well, maybe I should dig around in other people's clothes for money. It's obviously been highly successful for you. RAY Hey, you'd be surprised what you find in other people's pockets. Just gotta avoid them deadbeat bank tellers. Get you every time. CLAUDE I didn't start out to be a bank teller. I was gonna be a ballplayer. Even had an offer to play short for the Newark Eagles. RAY Why didn't you take it? CLAUDE The Negro League don't pay so good. And you're always on the road. That don't wash with Daisy. RAY You gave up baseball to be a bank teller? I can't latch on to that. CLAUDE At some point a man's got to get serious about his future. I'm sure you have no idea what I'm talking about. RAY You're talking about giving up baseball to be a bank teller. CLAUDE Bank teller's just a start. I got plans. Real plans. Not opening some Zoom-Boom Room. This time next year I'll be a loan officer. RAY A loan officer? CLAUDE That's right, a loan officer. RAY So you mean, if I needed some jack to get my nightclub up and running, I'd have to hype some square like you? CLAUDE Uh-huh. Ray pulls out his pocket watch. A mechanical tune plays as he checks the time. RAY How would I get a loan, anyway? CLAUDE You need collateral. RAY (re: watch) Like this? CLAUDE That thing? Who'd you steal it from? RAY My daddy gave me this watch. CLAUDE Yeah? Who'd he steal it from? RAY My daddy is dead so watch your mouth. You can say what you want about me, but don't be dragging my daddy into it. This watch means the world to me. Solid gold. Keeps perfect time. CLAUDE Looks like a fake to me. Loan denied! Ray stuffs his daddy's watch back in his pocket. RAY Ah, go chase yourself. I'll take my business elsewhere. And for future reference, you are no longer welcome at Ray's Boom-Boom Room. CLAUDE There is no Boom-Boom Room. RAY When there is, you can forget about it. And I swear to God, you ever talk about my daddy again I'm gonna kick your bank-telling, loan-denying ass, you got me? CLAUDE Oooh... RAY I think I liked you better when you kept your trap shut. EXT. ROADSIDE DINER -- DAY The truck veers off the highway and jerks to a halt in front of the rundown establishment. INT. ROADSIDE DINER -- DAY A dozen WHITE FOLKS look up as Ray and Claude push through the door. RAY Man, something smells good in here. How's everybody doing? Nothing but sullen stares from all corners of the room. CLAUDE (sotto) Maybe we oughta find another place. RAY Are you kidding? Tell me you don't want a slice of that pie right over there. CLAUDE I must have left my appetite outside, which is where I think we ought to be right now. Claude tugs Ray towards the door but Ray won't be dissuaded. He boldly addresses a YOUNG MAN in an apron behind the counter. RAY Good evening, Billy. We'd like some coffee and a couple of slices of that homemade pie you've got advertised. BILLY How you know my name's Billy? RAY It says so right there on your shirt. BILLY (glancing down) That what that says? Billy's MAMA sets a piping hot pie on the back counter and steps up next to her son. She casts a disparaging glance at Claude's suit. MAMA If you boys can read so good, how come you missed that sign in the window? Claude considers the sign she's pointing to. CLAUDE You mean this sign? The one that says "No Coloreds Allowed." That's a good question. Ray, how come we missed the sign? RAY Look, ma'am, we've been driving all day. We'd just like to purchase one of those pies and we'll be on our way. MAMA Those are whites-only pies. RAY Got any nigger pies? Claude jabs him. CLAUDE Any fool could see those are whites- only, not-for-blacks, come-on-let's- get-the-fuck-outta-here pies. Thank you very much. Claude starts tugging Ray toward the door. RAY (sotto) Thanks for backing me up here, Uncle Claude. CLAUDE (sotto) Don't Uncle Claude me. You get a load of those crackers? Couldn't be a mouthful of teeth among the bunch of 'em. Why you want to pick a fight with people like that for? RAY You're soft. CLAUDE What'd you say? Diner patrons stare. RAY I said you're soft. CLAUDE Hey, man, don't ever call me that. RAY I call it like I see it, and what I see is definitely soft. Claude narrows his eyes. CLAUDE Alright. You want some pie? RAY Yeah, I want some pie. CLAUDE Okay then, I'm gonna walk over to that counter and get us some fucking pie. Resolved, Claude stomps over to the counter. CLAUDE Excuse me, ma'am, I bet a brick will turn that one right there into a colored pie. Claude lays down a dollar bill. Mama casually pulls a shotgun from under the counter. MAMA And I bet this right here will turn you into a colored pie. CLAUDE Okay, Ray, I think we can go now. Much obliged... Ray gives the whole place a cool once-over as Claude pulls him out the door. Mama turns to Billy, still studying the stitching on his shirt. MAMA Don't be concentrating so hard, baby. You're liable to seize yourself again. EXT. DOCKS -- NIGHT The truck rolls up to the waters edge. Ray kills the engine and flashes the lights twice. In the passenger seat, Claude is fast asleep. After a few moments, a FAT MAN appears, shining a flashlight into the cab. RAY How you doing? We're looking for Slim. SLIM You found him. Ray cocks an eyebrow. EXT. DOCKS -- NIGHT Under cover of darkness, a couple of MEN finish loading crates into the bed of the truck. Ray and Claude keep their eyes peeled for the law. Down by the river, they can see lights and hear music from a district of rowdy juke joints. SLIM steps up, wiping his hands. SLIM That's it, fellas. Thirty six cases of Puerto Rico's finest. At five bucks a case, that's $180. Ray pulls out a wad and slaps it in Slim's sweaty palm. The fat man starts counting it out. RAY Man, that music is hot. What goes on down there, Slim? SLIM That's Natchez-under-the-Hill. RAY Blacks welcome there? SLIM Green's the only color that matters under the hill. They got gambling, girls. You oughta check it out. RAY Maybe we will. Nice meeting you. Slim slips into the shadows. CLAUDE Nice meeting you? You've been here before, haven't you? RAY What gave you that idea? CLAUDE Oh, I don't know, maybe because our lives depend on it, I just sort of thought you knew what you were doing! RAY Don't get all agitated on me. I bought a bottle of rum from a couple of dudes, I heard 'em talking... CLAUDE Let me get this straight. We drove all the way down to Klan country 'cause you heard a couple of guys talking? RAY What are you complaining about? It worked out. Everything's cool. Now, come on, let's head down there and see what's shaking. We deserve a little reward. CLAUDE (dubious) Reward? RAY There are people down there having fun. I want to be one of them. I want you to be one of them. On Monday you can be a bank teller if you want, but tonight you're a bootlegger with a truck full of Puerto Rican rum and a fistful of cash. A look of excitement crosses Claude's face, but he quickly shakes it off. CLAUDE That's gas money. Exasperated, Ray stuffs a few bills into Claude's pocket. RAY There's your gas money. You stay here and watch the truck. And don't worry, I've got the keys. Left alone, Claude mutters and kicks at the dirt. He leans against the truck. UP AHEAD/EXT. JUKE JOINT -- NIGHT Ray emerges from the woods and heads down the hill toward the juke joint. Claude hustles up next to him. CLAUDE I'm just gonna keep an eye on you, make sure you don't do nothing stupid. INT. JUKE JOINT -- NIGHT A ramshackle den of iniquity on the banks of the Mississippi. The band is laying down some serious Delta blues, creating an inviting atmosphere for sin and moral corruption. On a far side of the room, Ray is playing poker with some LOCALS. He seems to be having a bad night. WINSTON HANCOCK, a formidable black man, sweeps in another big pot and puffs happily on his cigar. OVER AT THE BAR Perched on a stool, Claude shoots a dark look at Ray and motions for the door. Ray waves him off and returns to his game. Claude becomes aware of a soft, young female hand on his shoulder. SYLVIA I've never seen you in here before. CLAUDE (staring at the hand) That's because I've never been here before. SYLVIA I'm Sylvia. What's your name? Against his better judgement, Claude's gaze follows the long, slender arm up past a bare shoulder and settles on SYLVIA'S angelic face. He is struck dumb. SYLVIA Can't you remember your own name? CLAUDE I know it begins with a "C"... SYLVIA Well, Mr. "C", how about buying a girl a drink? (to the bartender) Two bourbons. CLAUDE I really shouldn't. I gotta keep an eye on my friend. SYLVIA He looks like he can take care of himself. The drinks arrive. She places a shot glass in Claude's reluctant hand. She winks provocatively and slowly pours the whiskey down her throat. Instinctively, Claude tosses back his shot. CLAUDE Claude. That's my name. Claude. That's never happened before. SYLVIA You're cute. You have any money, Claude? CLAUDE Ten dollars. But I need it to get home. SYLVIA Why would you want to go home? It's so early. The bartender refills their glasses. BACK AT THE POKER TABLE Winston considers his cards, hardly looking up as a WAITRESS lays down a cocktail napkin and sets a drink down on top of it. He glances at Ray, who casually considers his cards. RAY I'll take two. The dealer tosses Ray a couple of cards. INSERT -- Ray fans his cards to reveal a full house. After considering the other players at the table, Ray pushes what's left of his money into the center of the table. The three other PLAYERS fold with disgust. Winston squints long and hard at Ray, then pushes everything he has into the center of the table. WINSTON I'll see that... Winston reaches into his jacket and throws down some more money on the pile. WINSTON And while we're at it, let's sweeten the pot. RAY Looks like my sugar bowl's empty, Mr. Hancock. WINSTON (reaching for the pot) That's just too damn bad, ain't it? RAY Now, hang on, slick. I ain't through with you yet. Ray checks his cards again. He looks at the pot, it's a lot of money. With this hand, there's no way he can lose. He places his daddy's pocket watch on top of the pile. Winston checks the time piece. WINSTON That'll cover it. Ray lays down his hand. RAY Full boat, ladies doing the paddling. WINSTON Four threes. Ray sits back, stunned. Winston rakes in his winnings. The game is over for the night. The three other players head to the bar. WINSTON Don't take it too hard, New York. Have a round on me. Winston tosses a silver dollar to Ray, who snatches it out of the air. Winston drops his hat on his head and moves through the crowd and out the door. WAITRESS Can I get you something? Ray shakes his head. Carefully, she begins to clear the table. Suddenly, he grabs her wrist. Winston's glass tips over. Ray flips over the cocktail napkin to reveal an extra pile of cards. RAY Looks like he had a whole lot of nothing in his hand until you came along. WAITRESS (wrenching free) You're hurting my arm. EXT. JUKE JOINT -- NIGHT Ray dashes into the street, glancing both ways. No sign of Winston. Damn. EXT. BACK ALLEY -- NIGHT Winston produces Ray's pocket watch and pops it open. A smile crosses his face as the mechanical tune plays. A sheriff's sedan rounds a corner, illuminating Winston in its headlights. The car pulls up and SHERIFF WARREN PIKE steps out. Distinguished by a casual cruelness, he's a young white man who loves his uniform. PIKE If it isn't Winston Hancock. Winston tries to move past Pike, but the sheriff blocks his path with a night stick. As Winston backs off, another squad car pulls up behind him. TWO DEPUTIES step from the car, guns drawn. PIKE I thought we agreed that you were gonna leave town. WINSTON I tried to leave, Sheriff Pike. But your wife begged me to stay. Pike slams Winston with his club, sending the black man to his knees. As Winston struggles back to his feet, a stiletto flashes and he lunges for the sheriff, slashing his cheek. The deputies grab Winston from behind, holding him by both arms. The long knife clatters to ground. Pike touches his face, examining the blood on his fingers. PIKE You just committed suicide, boy. INT. BORDELLO HALLWAY -- NIGHT Ray walks slowly down the hallway to Room 13. He is about to knock when he hears the sound of lovemaking from within. INT. SYLVIA'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT Ray opens the door and peeks in. Sylvia's on top and in charge. Claude is concentrating real hard. Ray smiles to himself and closes the door. INT. JUKE JOINT -- NIGHT Claude hitches up his suspenders as he comes down the stairs. He finds Ray having a drink at the now-empty bar. CLAUDE Hey, Ray. I've been looking for you. RAY Here I am. CLAUDE Guess we better get going, huh? RAY Still got that ten dollars? CLAUDE Well, not exactly. See, I met this girl. Real nice girl. God-fearing girl. Her name's Sylvia. RAY That jelly you were talking to right here? CLAUDE She's in a tight spot. Her mama needs this operation, and they ain't got the money for it. Their church took up a collection but they were still short... RAY So you made a generous contribution. CLAUDE What can I say? When the spirit moves me. RAY That was mighty charitable of you, Claude. Looks like we both got fucked tonight. CLAUDE What are you talking about? RAY While you were upstairs doing God's work, I was getting jack-legged by a fool with four threes. CLAUDE You lost all our money in a card game? RAY He even got my daddy's watch. CLAUDE Fuck that cheap-ass watch -- (off Ray's glare) I mean, how the hell are we gonna get home without any money? RAY We've still got 36 cases of rum. That's better than money. EXT. BACK ALLEY -- NIGHT Ray and Claude head down the alley. CLAUDE You sure the truck's this way? (looking over his shoulder) I swear it was back that way. Suddenly, the bloodied figure of Winston Hancock lurches from the shadows and grabs Claude by the lapels. Claude is too scared to scream, staggering backward. But the man's grip loosens and he slips to the ground. CLAUDE (croaking) Ray... Yo, Ray...! Ray turns back to find Claude trembling with fear and covered in blood. He just points down. Ray eyes widen. He kneels down and turns Winston's body over. CLAUDE I think he's hurt pretty bad. RAY He's dead. CLAUDE Oh, man, I've never seen a dead body before! Much to Claude's horror, Ray starts rifling through Winston's pockets. CLAUDE What do you think you're doing?! The man's been dead for two seconds! Don't you have any respect? RAY It ain't here. CLAUDE What ain't there? RAY My daddy's watch. This is the dude I was telling you about -- Suddenly, the glare of two bright headlights from a pickup truck freeze Ray and Claude in a guilty tableau. FIVE WHITE MEN appear at the end of the alley. MAN WITH LANTERN What's going on here? Ray gingerly releases Winston's lifeless body. MAN WITH LANTERN What's wrong with that one? RAY Him? He's just drunk. CLAUDE Yeah, nobody puts 'em away like old what's-his-name. RAY Winston. His name's Winston. CLAUDE Come on, Ray, better get Winston back to the truck. Claude and Ray hoist Winston's body to its feet. The man raises his lantern, takes a closer look at Winston's face. MAN WITH LANTERN This fella looks dead. Ray and Claude check for themselves. CLAUDE Would you look at that, Ray. Winston up and died on us. RAY Hell with him then. If he can't share the driving, he can't ride in the truck. MAN WITH LANTERN He can ride with us. Suddenly, the men all have guns. And they're pointed at Ray and Claude. MAN WITH LANTERN So can you. INT. NATCHEZ JAIL -- NIGHT In a holding cell, Ray tests the window bars. Solid. Meanwhile, Claude sits on a cot brooding darkly. Through the bars, we see the rednecks laughing and passing around a bottle of bootleg rum with the DEPUTY on duty. RAY Man, this is gonna delay everything. Spanky's gonna be pissed. CLAUDE Spanky's gonna be pissed? Poor Spanky. Fuck Spanky! What the hell kind of a name is Spanky, anyway? You're responsible for this situation. I blame you for everything. If it wasn't for you, I'd be home having a hot meal right now. RAY If it wasn't for me, you'd be washing up on the beach at Coney Island right now. (mocking Claude) "I need all my thumbs and fingers for praying and doing good." The jailhouse door opens and Sheriff Pike walks in. He pauses to give the prisoners the once-over. There's a fresh bandage over the cut on his cheek. PIKE What do we have here? DEPUTY Billy Bob and the boys found them down down under the hill with Winston Hancock. He was dead. Looks like murder. PIKE You don't say. DEPUTY Looks like they was running rum. Got thirty six cases of evidence out back. You want I should call in the federal prosecutor? PIKE Let's not drag the feds into this. I can think of better uses for that rum than letting it collect dust in some government warehouse up in Nashville. Pike winks at his deputy, then turns to regard the prisoners. PIKE Besides, why bother with bootlegging when we got us a clear cut case of murder? RAY Excuse me, sheriff. As we explained to your associate here, there's been a mistake. We didn't kill anybody. Now, as for the bootlegging, we happen to work for a very important man in New York. CLAUDE That's right. Does the name Spanky Johnson mean anything to you? PIKE Afraid not. RAY Mr. Johnson is very well connected. If you were to let us go, I guarantee he would show you his appreciation, if you know what I mean. PIKE Are you offering me a bribe? RAY I'm just trying to pay the toll on the road to justice. PIKE You may be able to buy your way out of trouble up in New York City, but down here we take murder seriously. CLAUDE Look, man, how many times we gotta tell you people, we didn't kill that guy! PIKE Well, if that's the case, then you don't have anything to worry about, do you? Pike turns his back on the prisoners and checks the time on a gold pocket watch -- Ray's pocket watch. But from his cell, Ray can't hear the mechanical tune. PIKE Time to get home to the missus. See y'all in the morning. In the cell, Claude turns to Ray. CLAUDE The man's gotta point. We're innocent, after all. I just gotta get a good night's sleep on this filthy mattress. Keep our heads on straight, stay cool, what's the worst thing that could happen to us? SMASH CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM -- DAY The CAMERA Scorseses in on the JUDGE'S face... JUDGE Life! The gavel comes down with a thundering crash. Stunned, Ray and Claude resist the BAILIFFS' efforts to remove them from the courtroom. RAY Life?! How long is life? We were just walking back to the truck. We didn't do nothing! Fuck life! CLAUDE Life?! What's life mean? There's no way I can do life. I got a job starts Monday morning! They continue to protest loudly as they are dragged bodily through the door. EXT. COUNTRYSIDE -- DAY Blues music kicks in as a prison transport bus rolls down a dirt road cutting through the bleak Mississippi Delta. INT. BUS (MOVING) -- DAY LONG-CHAIN CHARLIE, a white prison sergeant, sits behind the wheel. A shot gun hangs within easy reach. The CAMERA MOVES BACK past grim-faced PRISONERS with their hands and feet shackled. We arrive at Ray and Claude sitting in grim silence as the bus lurches along. EXT. PRISON -- DAY The bus veers off the country road and passes under a sign: MISSISSIPPI STATE PENITENTIARY. Sgt. Dillard's voice PLAYS OVER. DILLARD (V.O.) Welcome to the farm. Here you will be provided with ample opportunity to repay your debt to society through the rigors of hard labor... Ray and Claude stare out the window, getting their first look at the harsh reality that awaits them. Cotton fields stretch to the horizon in every direction. HOE-GANGS till the earth under the watchful gaze of TRUSTY SHOOTERS... DILLARD (V.O.) In between harvest and planting season we got fields need clearing, roads need building and ditches need digging. You will eat only what you can grow. Your crop don't come in, you'll go hungry. If you die, don't worry 'bout us none. We'll find somebody to replace you... Along the road, CONVICTS cast hard looks at the new men as the cart passes. A WHITE SERGEANT on horseback shifts his rifle and casually spits tobacco juice in the dirt... EXT. CAMP 8 -- DAY A low-slung, single-story bunkhouse surrounded by a dirt yard. Two shooter shacks sit at diagonal corners of the yard. In each shack, two trusties with rifles keep vigilant watch over the camp. SGT. FRED DILLARD paces down the line of new men as HOPPIN' BOB, an uncommonly ugly trusty, unlocks their leg irons. DILLARD This here is Camp 8. Camp 8 is for incorrigibles, so whatever you've done to get here, believe me, we're not impressed. You new men are probably noticing that we have no fences here at Camp 8. We don't need no fences, we have the gun line. It runs from shack to shack clear around the yard. You are now inside the gun line. If you step outside the gun line without my permission, you will be shot. If you trip and fall over the gun line, you will be shot. If you spit, if you pee, if you stick your ass out and take a dump over the gun line, you will be shot. Dillard plucks a hat off one of the new prisoners and tosses it over the gun line. SHOTS ring out from the nearest shack. The hat is torn to shreds. DILLARD One of my trusties puts a bullet in you when you're trying to run, I'm liable to give him a pardon for saving me the trouble of tracking you down, so you can bet their aim is true. Dillard puts a cigarette in his mouth. Hoppin' Bob is right there with the flame. DILLARD My name is Sgt. Dillard. In the unlikely event that you need to address me, you call me boss. You already met this handsome fella right here. Hoppin' Bob's my ace boon coon. You run afoul of Hoppin' Bob, you run afoul of me. Nodding to Bob, Dillard saunters off. HOPPIN' BOB New men, strip down! Ray and Claude share a look. Self-consciously, the men begin to undress. INT. BUNKHOUSE -- DAY Double bunks line the walls, with a footlocker for each inmate. As usual, there's a poker game going on. HOPPIN' BOB Okay, ladies, got some fresh meat for ya! All activity comes to a halt as the new men shuffle into the cage wearing their prison-issue "ring-arounds." Hoppin' Bob slams the metal doors shut behind them. HOPPIN' BOB We ain't got no wallflowers at Camp 8. Everybody gotta dance eventually. But don't worry, they won't try nothing tonight. That would take all of the fun outta the courtship. The INCORRIGIBLES hungrily eye the new men in total silence. Claude sticks close to Ray as they shuffle toward their assigned bunks. The CAMERA SETTLES on a much younger WILLIE LONG. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD -- MORNING The inmates jump down from the mule cart and grab hoes and shovels. Because he can't count, Hoppin' Bob keeps track of the men using a system all his own -- a PEBBLE in his pocket for each man. Dillard stands by with his shotgun. DILLARD Got three miles of ditch to clear today. Let's keep it moving! EXT. DITCH -- DAY The men of Camp 8 labor under the brutal mid-day sun. JANGLE LEG, a handsome, muscular man, sings a verse to set the work tempo. Up and down the line, a mighty chorus responds. The CAMERA FINDS Ray and Claude swinging pick axes, sweating profusely. CLAUDE I don't believe this before Abe jive. I didn't go to night school to sing in no Mississippi Boys Choir! Claude stops to catch his breath and take off his shirt. RAY I wouldn't do that if I was you. CLAUDE Shut up. It's too damn hot. What do you know, anyway? A SHOT rings out. Claude hits the ground as a bullet kicks up some dust nearby. RAY Told ya. Claude looks up to see Dillard cracking pistachio nuts as Hoppin' Bob puts another round in the chamber of his rifle. DILLARD Why ain't his pick swinging? HOPPIN' BOB (echoing) Why ain't that pick swinging? CLAUDE It's too hot, boss. I'm tired. HOPPIN' BOB He says it's too hot, boss. DILLARD Too hot, huh? Well, you tell that lazy jiggaboo the state of Mississippi ain't interested in his meteorological assessments. HOPPIN' BOB Listen up, jiggaboo! State of Mississippi ain't interested in your... in your... (off Dillard's look) metropolitan assets! DILLARD Tell him the state of Mississippi is only interested in getting this ditch cleared by sundown. HOPPIN' BOB State of Mississippi wants this ditch cleared by sundown. You got that?! CLAUDE I got it... boss. DILLARD He don't sound like he's from 'round here. HOPPIN' BOB He's from New York City. That one, too. DILLARD New York. That's up north, ain't it? They'll find we do things different down here. RAY We noticed. Annoyed, Dillard jabs the butt of his rifle into Ray's solar plexus. Ray sinks to his knees in the dirt. DILLARD Looks like we got a couple of live ones. How long these boys in for? HOPPIN' BOB Judge gave 'em the long ride. DILLARD Life, huh? They step outta line again, we'll shorten up that sentence real fast. Dillard swaggers off, dogged at the heels by the ever faithful Hoppin' Bob. Resigned, Ray and Claude return to their labor. EXT. DITCH -- DAY The men rest in the ditch as BISCUIT, a slight inmate with a red bandanna tied around his head, dispenses water, one ladle per man. BISCUIT Drink it up! Willie exchanges two cigarettes for a second ladle. POKER FACE pulls a crumpled envelope from his shirt. His expression never changes, hence the name. POKER FACE Either of you new fellas know how to read? I've had this letter four months now. CLAUDE You can't read? None of these guys can read? WILLIE Last fella who could read made parole 'round Christmas. POKER FACE I don't even know who this is from. RAY Here, gimme that. Ray unfolds the letter and scans it. RAY It's from your mama's neighbor, Mrs. Tidwell. She thought you oughta know that your second cousin Bo died. The prisoners express their condolences. "Sorry, man." "That's some bad news." "I know you loved Bo like a brother..." RAY And your other cousin, Sally, on your daddy's side, she died. More sympathy from the men. "Ooh. Twice in one letter." "Rough break, Poker Face..." RAY Apparently, your sister died. POKER FACE Jenny? RAY No, it says Marleen here. Relief all around. "Thank goodness." RAY Oh, wait, looks like Jenny died, too. "Bad luck, man." "That's harsh..." RAY Then it goes on for a while about how the crop didn't come in on accounta the frost. (flips over the page) She finishes up with something about a tornado and how your mama and your daddy died in that. But don't worry none. She'll take care of the dog. That is, if it gets over the worms. The prisoners share dark looks. Ray folds up the letter and hands it back to Poker Face. POKER FACE Appreciate it. RAY Anybody else need anything read? "No, man, we're good." The men shake their heads and return letters and cards to their pockets. Jangle Leg nods and switches places with one of the convicts, parking next to Claude. JANGLE LEG How you doin'? CLAUDE I'm all right. JANGLE LEG You ever done time before? CLAUDE You kidding? I've been in and out of prison my entire life. Mostly in. I'm hard-core. JANGLE LEG Then you won't have no problem making the adjustment. You need anything, help of any kind, gimme a holler. Name's Jangle Leg. CLAUDE 'Preciate it. Claude. As they shake, Jangle Leg inspects Claude's hand thoroughly. JANGLE LEG Soft and supple. Like a lady's. CLAUDE (eyes narrowing) I try to moisturize regularly. HOPPIN' BOB (over his shoulder) Hey, Jangle Leg, what'd I tell you about pitching woo on the job? JANGLE LEG Sorry, Cap'n. Claude snatches back his hand and gives Jangle Leg a hard look. HOPPIN' BOB Break's over! Back to work! As the men grab their tools and return to work, Claude leans over to Ray. CLAUDE Why do you think they call him Jangle Leg? RAY Somebody just told me he wins the three-legged race every year. CLAUDE So? RAY He does it all by himself. INT. MESS HALL -- DUSK Wincing with each movement and covered in grime from the day's labors, the new men bring up the back of the chow line. COOKIE, the grub-slinger, slaps a large dollop of an unidentifiable substance onto Ray's tray. RAY What is that? COOKIE Creamed chip beef on toast. Except we're outta beef, so I had to improvise. RAY Can't I get one of those steaks you got grilling back there? COOKIE Those are for trusties, unless you got thirty cents or two packs of cigs. Another prisoner lays down some tobacco and gets a juicy steak. Ray grabs a hunk of corn bread and makes his way to the back of the room. Claude steps up, holds out his tray for Cookie. CLAUDE Excuse me, I don't like it when the food touches each other, so if you could just -- (SPLAT!) -- keep everything separate. Disappointed, Claude turns to discover that the only seat left is next to Ray. Scowling, he limps toward it. Jangle Leg's eyes follow Claude as he approaches the table. Biscuit smacks him. BISCUIT Eyes front, mister! Claude sits down and promptly goes to work scraping his burnt toast with his knife. The irritating sound slowly brings the entire room to dead silence. All eyes fall on Claude. Scratch, scratch, scratch... COOKIE (stepping up) Problem with the toast? CLAUDE It's fine now. Cookie glowers and takes a seat. RAY Stop aggravating people. Just eat your food. As the room returns to normal, Claude starts polishing his fork with his shirttail. Irritated, Ray shoots him a look. CLAUDE This fork is filthy. RAY The fork is the least of your worries, Claude. Undeterred, Claude breathes on his fork and polishes it some more. Disgusted, Ray pushes aside his plate. RAY What's your name? WILLIE Me? Willie Long. RAY What are you in for, Willie? WILLIE That's a long story... RADIO When he was 13 years old he killed a son-of-a-bitch with a claw hammer. WILLIE They never proved that. CLAUDE What a second, you've been in here since you were thirteen? RAY What about you, Radio? RADIO Armed robbery. JANGLE LEG Damn liar. Bitch killed his sister with an axe. RADIO She was my half-sister. Shit, I ain't the son-of-a-bitch who poisoned my own parents. BISCUIT (protective) They deserved it. Very strict. POKER FACE What about you, Biscuit? You nearly skinned your poor old landlady alive. COOKIE At least he didn't kill Santa Claus with his bare hands. RAY You killed Santa Claus? BISCUIT (scolding) On Christmas Eve. POKER FACE He wasn't the Santa Claus, he was just wearing the suit and ringing a bell. WILLIE What did you guys do? The whole table waits expectantly for their reply. RAY I kinda lost track of how many people we killed that night. Must have been 15 or twenty -- not counting women and children. It was a real bloodbath. All that screaming... CLAUDE Pack of lies. Don't listen to him. We didn't kill nobody. We were railroaded. And we gonna prove that. RAY He just blocked it out. Nigger's crazy. He's the one who did all the stabbing. He's capable of some heinous shit. (thumbing down the table) How 'bout him down there? At the end of the table, GOLDMOUTH, a hulking specimen, snarls menacingly, flashing a glittering set of teeth. WILLIE Goldmouth? They say he was born out back behind the shithouse. That's what they say. RAY You all been here a long time. Doesn't anybody ever escape from this place? WILLIE They run but they never get too far. RADIO Couple years back, Cookie made it clear to Greenville. RAY Greenville, that the nearest town? WILLIE (nodding) It's a two-day walk if you don't get lost. Take a mighty cagey country boy to navigate the woods and bayous between here and there. BISCUIT Those dogs they got can sniff a skid mark in your underpants from a half- mile off. RAY Alright, well, let's say you make it to Greenville. What's there, anyway? COOKIE Grandma Dodi's Pork Rib Joint. POKER FACE That's where they nabbed him. COOKIE Didn't even get to have my peach cobbler. WILLIE The most important thing they got in Greenville is a train that heads up north. Just then, Goldmouth stands up, casting a shadow over Claude. GOLDMOUTH Hey, girl, you gonna eat your corn bread? Claude looks up, considering his options. CLAUDE No, man. I want you to have it. RAY Wait up there, Claude. You give that guy your corn bread and the next thing you know you'll be ironing his shirts and clipping his toenails. GOLDMOUTH Maybe I oughta eat your corn bread. RAY My corn bread? Oh no, my friend. I love corn bread. Ray picks up his corn bread and takes a huge bite out of it, rolling his eyes with enthusiasm. RAY I thought my mama made good corn bread but this is really something special. Ray looks at the faces around the room, smiles broadly. Goldmouth is getting embarrassed. RAY Who knew I'd have to come all the way down to this here prison, deep in the asshole of the great state of Mississippi, to find such a tasty piece of corn bread? The prisoners begin to laugh. Ray's got them now. RAY And who knew that in this great corn bread-making institution I'd come face to face with the biggest, ugliest, stinkiest, ugliest gold- mouthed negro in the entire world. Now get out of my face before I lose my appetite! EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DUSK A punch sends Ray sprawling in the dust. Goldmouth looms over him. The incorrigibles form a circle around the combatants. Poker Face, the camp bookie, is taking all bets. GOLDMOUTH How you like your corn bread now, New York? Goldmouth and Ray square off. Goldmouth swings, Ray ducks and counters with a swift jab to the gut. Goldmouth just flashes a shiny grin and clobbers Ray with a fist the size of a Thanksgiving turkey. Ray sinks to the dust. Radio drops down near him. RADIO Come on, New York, you can do better than that! Get up and show him how they do it in Harlem! Ray shakes his head and staggers back to his feet. He circles the big man and gets in a couple of good shots, much to the crowd's approval. Goldmouth shakes his head and wipes the blood from his nose. Now he's mad. He grabs Ray by the shirt and delivers a crushing blow. Ray reels backward into Cookie's arms. COOKIE I appreciate you going to all this trouble over my corn bread. I don't get a lot of compliments in my line of work. Cookie shoves Ray back into the ring for more punishment. Claude emerges from the mess hall, munching on a piece of corn bread. He squeezes in between Poker Face and Willie. WILLIE Your pal's getting the tar whipped out of him on your account. CLAUDE How many times I got to tell you? He ain't my pal. Besides, he looks like he knows what he's doing. Just then Claude winces as Goldmouth delivers a jaw-crushing uppercut that knocks Ray on his back. Claude bristles under the incriminating looks coming at him from all directions. CLAUDE Alright, alright... Claude crouches down as Ray rolls over on his stomach and pushes himself up onto all fours. His eyes are swollen shut, his face covered with blood. CLAUDE Hey, Ray, I think you made your point, whatever that is. Maybe now's a good time to throw in the towel. You know what I'm saying? Ray manages a smile and staggers to his feet. RAY (slurring) Shit, Goldmouth. Back in New York, I know bitches who hit harder than you. Goldmouth pulls back his fist and lets it fly. Ray hurtles through the crowd, collapsing in the dust. Willie steps in. WILLIE The man's taken enough of a beating. Let's get him inside. Cookie, Radio and Poker Face raise Ray to his feet. Goldmouth slings him over his shoulder and carries him toward the bunkhouse. Dazed, Ray catches Claude's eye. RAY Got him good, huh, Claude? He won't be bothering us anytime soon. A quick elbow jab from Goldmouth and Ray is out for good. Disgusted with himself, Claude tosses what's left of the corn bread to the mangy dog, who makes short work of it. BISCUIT (wagging a finger) Shame, shame, that's your name. FADE TO BLACK: INT. MESS HALL -- DAY On Sundays, the mess hall also serves as a chapel. From a makeshift pulpit, the blind REVEREND CLAY and his DAUGHTER lead the congregation of convicts in a rousing chorus of "Down by the Riverside." EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY The gospel music filters into the yard, where the prisoners mingle with kinfolk. EXT. SGT. DILLARD'S HOUSE -- DAY MRS. DILLARD hums along with the gospel music as she places a couple of freshly-baked pies on the window sill to cool. EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY The CAMERA FINDS Claude and Daisy walking hand in hand toward a simple shack just beyond the gun line. This is the TONK HOUSE and Dillard is the gate keeper. CLAUDE Request permission to go to the tonk, boss. Dillard considers Daisy. DILLARD I don't see no wedding ring, Banks. Conjugal visits are for married prisoners only. CLAUDE You think you could make an exception just this once, boss? She came all the way down from New York. DILLARD I don't need the Baptists on my back, but I suppose I could issue a temporary marriage license for a nominal fee. Daisy gets the picture. She reaches into her purse and hands Dillard a couple of dollars. DILLARD I now pronounce you man and wife. (calling to the shooter shack) Claude Banks going to the tonk! Claude takes Daisy's hand and leads her over the gun line. ACROSS THE YARD Ray watches Claude and Daisy step into the tonk house. Then he returns to a game of horseshoes, tossing a ringer. Nearby, Biscuit gives Jangle Leg a haircut. RAY Biscuit, when you're done with Jangle Leg, you think you could squeeze me in? BISCUIT Thought you'd never ask. Biscuit needs some gravy. RAY I'm talking about a haircut. BISCUIT Cost you a pair of nylons. POKER FACE Hey, Ray, Goldmouth don't believe me. Ain't it so they got trains up in New York City that run under the streets? RAY They're called subways. A nickel will take you from one end of Manhattan to the other. Helluva ride, too. Radio looks up from a vacuum tube receiver he's busy repairing. RADIO Hey, Ray, you ever been to the Cotton Club? RAY Sure I've been to the Cotton Club. It's pretty sweet. But it don't hold a candle to the Boom Boom Room. That's where the real action is. WILLIE What's the Boom Boom Room? RAY That's my joint. The swinginest nightclub in town. COOKIE You got your own nightclub? RAY Well, not yet. It's still in the planning stages. GOLDMOUTH So it don't exist. RAY Just because it's in my mind, Goldmouth, don't mean it ain't real. Everything worth anything starts with a dream. Hoppin' Bob calls to Ray from the gun line. HOPPIN' BOB Gibson! Got yourself a visitor! Ray turns to find his MOTHER, a handsome woman in a floral dress, coming toward him. RAY Mama? MAMA GIBSON Rayford! The incorrigibles elbow each other and repeat the name "Rayford" as Mama Gibson envelops her son in a fleshy embrace, smothering him with kisses. RAY What are you doing here, mama? MAMA GIBSON I heard some things so I went to see Spanky Johnson. He told me what happened and gave me some money to get down here. What happened to your face? RAY Don't worry about that. Hey, fellas, this here is my mama. These are some of my friends. That's Willie, there's Poker Face, Radio, Cookie, Goldmouth, Biscuit, Jangle Leg. The motley crew gathers around, nodding politely. Goldmouth flashes a golden grin. Willie gallantly doffs his cap. WILLIE Mrs. Gibson. Shame on Rayford here for failing to mention that he had such a beautiful mama. Mama manages a half-hearted smile, clutching her bag. MAMA GIBSON Nice to meet you all. GOLDMOUTH How was your train ride? MAMA GIBSON Quite comfortable, thank you. COOKIE Them cookies in there? MAMA GIBSON Yes, oatmeal. RADIO 'Scuse me, you got any batteries on you? MAMA GIBSON No. No I don't. Biscuit sides up, fingering her dress. BISCUIT That's a lovely dress. Make it yourself? MAMA GIBSON (vaguely unsettled) Yeah... EXT. PORCH -- DAY Ray and his mama sit in the shade. RAY This is a big surprise, mama. I sure didn't expect to see you down here. A long, uncomfortable beat. Mama's lip starts to tremble. MAMA GIBSON Rayford, I wanted so much more for you than this. RAY Don't cry, mama. This place ain't so bad as it looks. Sure, we work hard, but there's plenty fresh air and sunshine... And you know something else, I've taken to going to church regular. They got services every Sunday right there in the mess hall. MAMA GIBSON Don't you lie to me, Rayford. (composing herself) You still have your daddy's watch? (Ray shakes his head) Well, this is all I can give you. I wish it was more. She puts some money in his hand. RAY I can't take that, mama. MAMA GIBSON Don't argue with me. You need it more than I do. I know how a little money can help in a place like this. Reluctantly, Ray stashes the money in his pocket. RAY I can't believe this. I always said I'd never end up like this. I thought I'd make something of myself, do something with my life. You know, be successful. Have a big house, a family. Now I'm gonna end up just like daddy. MAMA GIBSON Don't say that, Rayford. Don't ever say that. He gave up hope. That's where you gotta be different. RAY They gave me life, mama. MAMA GIBSON I gave you life. And they can't take it away from you. Remember that. You'll get outta here someday. I believe that. You gotta believe it, too. INT. TONK HOUSE -- DAY Reclining on a straw mattress, Claude watches intently as Daisy gets dressed. The rickety door reverberates with a loud pounding. HOPPIN' BOB (off) Time's up, Banks! We got a crowd gathering out here! Claude leaps from the bed and slams his fist against the door. CLAUDE Woman came all the way from New York, goddamnit! We'll come out when we're good and ready! Daisy quickly buttons up her dress. CLAUDE Did you go see my cousin Maynard like I asked you in my letter? DAISY Of course I did. He said he'd file an appeal right away. You didn't tell me he was so good looking. CLAUDE Yeah, that side of the family has all the looks and none of the brains. I hope he don't mess things up. DAISY He seemed like a pretty good lawyer to me. His offices take up an entire floor of that big, new building on 125th Street, and he was using all these words I never heard before. He even offered me a job. CLAUDE A job, huh? Well, that's nice, real nice. You won't have to work long. I'll be back soon enough. After I start work at First Federal Bank of Manhattan, I'll be keeping you in style. Everything will get back to normal again. That's a promise. Daisy smiles weakly and looks away. She doesn't have much faith in this promise. DAISY Listen, Claude, Maynard wanted to know if he should file the appeal on behalf of your friend, too. CLAUDE Ray Gibson? (thinks about it) No, no. He's the reason I'm in here, Daisy. For all I know, he's got a record a mile long. I got a better shot of getting out of here on my own. You tell Maynard to think about me, concentrate on me. Understand? DAISY Sure, Claude, whatever you say. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD -- DAY The prisoners jump down from the cart and grab hammers and pick axes as Hoppin' Bob keeps count with pebbles. DILLARD We lost yesterday on accounta the rain. That means we gotta make up for it today, so put your backs to it. HOPPIN' BOB You heard the boss! Let's move! Ray and Claude jump down after Willie. WILLIE (squinting at the sun) Looks like a scorcher. RADIO I bet the son of a bitch goes over a hundred and ten. POKER FACE I'll take that action. EXT. FIELD -- DAY The long line levels a road to a work tune being sung by Jangle Leg. Dillard checks the thermometer on the truck -- 90 degrees and rising. Mopping his brow, he starts down the line. The sun arcs overhead, a blazing inferno... Heat rises off the road... The men sweat profusely... "Taking it off here, boss!" echoes up and down the line. Biscuit has his work cut out for him, lugging a water bucket from man to man, offering the ladle. The sun... the hammer... the ladle... the axe... the sun... the hammer... the ladle... the axe... The mercury hits 110 degrees... A NEW GUY lets his hammer slip from his fingers, collapses in the dirt. Radio nods to Poker Face, who hands him a pack of cigs. WILLIE Man down, boss! Dillard uses his foot to roll the stricken man over. He's still alive. Barely. DILLARD You two, put him on the truck! Ray and Claude drop their tools, grab the man by his arms and legs and lug him up to the road. Once out of earshot, Ray whispers to Claude. RAY Cookie drew me a map to Greenville. CLAUDE So? RAY You know what I'm saying. CLAUDE Yeah, I know what your saying. And I'm saying if you made it that far, they'd be watching every train that pulls out of that station. RAY That's why we won't take the train. Cookie showed me where there's a farm house. They got a boat there. CLAUDE What do you know about boats? I bet you can't even swim. They reach the truck. With effort, they swing the man back and forth and launch him into the back of the truck. RAY What I know about boats is they take you to freedom. Come on, man. I think we can do this. CLAUDE Why are you always talking about we? There is no we. There is a me, there is a you. But there is no we between us. HARD CUT TO: INT. BUNKHOUSE WASHROOM -- DAY Ray and Claude continue their conversation as they lather up for a shave. RAY You want out of this place, don't you? Don't tell me you're starting to like it here. CLAUDE No, I don't like it here. Look around. There's nothing but ass. Male ass! Balls and ass! Believe you me, I'm getting out of here. RAY What does that mean? CLAUDE Forget it. RAY I'm not gonna forget it. What does that mean? If you've got a plan, I think I have a right to know about it. I told you my plan. CLAUDE Getting a map from a chubby chef named Cookie? Dragging our asses through the swamps in search of some worm-eaten boat? That ain't a plan, that's a vacation for two in the hole. When you've got a map to New York City, you get back to me. Claude splits. Scowling, Ray finishes up his shave. INT. BUNKHOUSE -- NIGHT Moonlight streams through the barred windows of the cage. Exhausted from the day's work, each man stretches out painfully in his bunk. JANGLE LEG Sure was hot out there today. COOKIE Still too hot to sleep. RADIO Every bone in my body feel like a big son-of-a-bitch dog got hold of it. GOLDMOUTH I can't wait 'til Sunday. CLAUDE What's so great about Sunday? Monday's right after it. Restless, Radio rolls over. RADIO Hey, Ray, what's the name of that nightclub of yours? RAY You mean the Boom-Boom Room? RADIO That's it. The Boom-Boom Room. Sure would like to see that place when you get it up and running. RAY You should have come by last night, Radio. You woulda had yourself some fun. WILLIE Last night? What are you talking about, Ray? RAY I'm talking about old Satchmo nearly blew the roof off the joint. POKER FACE Who? RAY Satchmo. GOLDMOUTH You mean Louis Armstrong? RAY He's a good friend of mine. Drops by the club whenever he's in town. CLAUDE Hey, do we have to listen to this bullshit? I'm trying to get some sleep around here. "Shut up, Claude!" echoes around the room. Irritated, Claude thumps his pillow and turns his back on the room. RAY Yeah, things were hot last night, but you'll never guess who's playing tonight. BLAM! A high horn note sounds. SMASH CUT: CLOSE-UP -- Biscuit, all dolled up and flashing a million- dollar smile. She begins to sing. BISCUIT A tisket a tasket... Biscuit is up on a makeshift platform in the bunkhouse, lipsyncing to Ella Fitzgerald. But its not the depressing bunkhouse anymore, it has transformed into Ray's Boom-Boom Room. PULL OUT SLOWLY as Ray, decked out in a sleek tuxedo steps in front of the CAMERA. He speaks into the CAMERA as he walks... RAY That's right, fellas. Catch any cab heading uptown. All the drivers know Ray's Boom-Boom Room. GOLDMOUTH (O.S.) Hey, Ray... Ray looks to his left, sees Goldmouth in the old bunkhouse. GOLDMOUTH Where am I at, man? RAY (in nightclub) C'mon, Goldmouth, somebody's gotta watch the front door. The CAMERA PANS off Ray to Goldmouth, in a tuxedo, at the front door of the nightclub with two lovely ladies. He waves to himself, sitting on his bunk. Himself waves back, smiling like a kid in a candy store. Willie is behind the bar, serving drinks to three gorgeous SKIMMIES. WILLIE Hey, Ray, I could get used to this! CLOSE ON Cookie sitting a table eating a huge porterhouse. The CAMERA DOLLIES around to find Ray eating with him. COOKIE Ray, my man, this steak is like butter! RAY Made just for you, Cookie. COOKIE How about some steak sauce? RAY No problem. Oh, boy! Ray motions to a busboy clearing a table. It's Claude. RAY How about some Worchestershire sauce! And clean that damn table. Claude grimaces. CUT TO: Willie laughing, Goldmouth laughing, Poker Face in the bunk laughing. POKER FACE Hey, Ray, I know you got some gambling! CUT TO: Ray at a craps table holding a pair of dice. He looks at Poker Face on his bunk. RAY C'mon, Poker Face, what's a club without some dice? The CAMERA PULLS BACK as Ray throws the dice. A perfect seven. The CAMERA PANS UP to Poker Face in a tux clutching a fistful of cash. POKER FACE Lucky seven! My nigger! Let it ride! Across the room, Jangle Leg, in a tux, sits at the piano. Radio, also in a tux, beats on the drums. JANGLE LEG Sing, girlfriend! Biscuit sings the song, smiling lovingly at her man. Everyone is having a great time in Ray's Boom-Boom Room, until... Whistles blow. At the front door, Hoppin' Bob appears with FIVE TRUSTIES dressed in police outfits. The incorrigibles scatter. RADIO Hey, Ray, looks like trouble! A hard white light from Hoppin' Bob's flashlight shines directly into the CAMERA. CLOSE ON Ray, in his bed, back in the old bunkhouse. The music stops abruptly. He shields his eyes from the harsh light. Hoppin' Bob is looming over him. It's back to reality. HOPPIN' BOB You don't shut up, you're gonna spend the rest of the night in the hole, Gibson! That goes for the rest of you girls, too. I don't want to hear another peep about no Boom-Boom fucking Room! A loud burst of flatulence cuts through the darkness. Hoppin' Bob turns his flashlight on Cookie. COOKIE Sorry, Cap'n. Scowling, Hoppin' Bob steps out of the cage and locks the door behind him. The men slowly settle back in. RADIO (whispering) Pretty good story, Ray. Didn't much care for the ending though. Lights out at Camp 8. EXT. CAMP 8 -- YARD -- DAY Claude's playing pepper with Radio, Jangle Leg and Poker Face. DILLARD Mail call! The incorrigibles quickly gather around as he calls off names, passing cards and letters through the crowd. DILLARD Craddock!... Williams... Henshaw!... Banks! CLAUDE Here! Dillard hands the letter to Ray, who glances at it before passing it back to Claude. RAY (reading) Maynard Banks, Esquire. Attorney at law. CLAUDE Gimme that. That doesn't concern you. RAY I'm sure it don't. INT. CAMP 8 BUNKHOUSE -- DAY Claude rips open the letter. A profound disappointment settles over him as he reads the news from cousin Maynard. Bitterly, he crumples up the letter and tosses it down. EXT. FIELD - DAY Dillard strolls down the line with his rifle over his shoulder. Under his watchful gaze, hoes rise and fall. After he passes, Claude moves a little closer to Ray. CLAUDE What's up, Ray? RAY (cool) Claude. CLAUDE Sure is hot today. Think it'll rain later? RAY What do you want, Claude? CLAUDE What do I want? What makes you think I want something? RAY My daddy always said when a man starts talking about the weather keep you hand on your wallet. CLAUDE Your daddy must have been a helluva guy, a deep man, a wise man. Sure wish I could have met him -- RAY Cut the bullshit. What do you want, Claude? CLAUDE (clearing his throat) You still got that map? RAY Yeah. CLAUDE Well, if you're still thinking about booking it, I want in. I think we can make it. RAY We? Did I hear you say we? As I recall, you're the one who said there is no we. Guess we got some bad news in that letter, huh? CLAUDE Look, my cousin Maynard is a lawyer. He filed an appeal on my behalf -- RAY On your behalf. What happened to we? CLAUDE The appeal was denied. Then Daisy went and fell for Maynard. They're engaged to be married, can you believe that? RAY Well, let's just think about that for a moment. He's a successful lawyer up in New York City and you're down here with a bright future in the cotton picking business. Eeny, meeny, miney, Maynard. CLAUDE Come on, man. Don't shut me out. I'm telling you, you and me, that map, we can go places. RAY You know what, Claude? This whole time we've been down here, you've done nothing but think about yourself, acting like this whole thing is my fault. That plan with your cousin, did that include me? A long beat. CLAUDE No. RAY At least you're honest for once. So now you want to be my friend? Well, let me tell you something, Claude-my- shit-don't-stink-Banks. You got a lot to learn about friendship. CLAUDE Does that mean I'm in? RAY I don't think so, Claude. You'd just slow me down. We'd have to stop every five minutes so you could polish your silverware. There's no way around it, you're soft. CLAUDE What'd you say? RAY I said you're soft. CLAUDE Don't call me that. You know I hate it when you call me that. Ray gets in Claude's face and silently mouths the word -- "soft." Claude throws down his hoe and sinks his fist deep into Ray's gut. CLAUDE Damn, that felt good. I should have done that the first time I met you. Ray touches the blood coming from his nose. Eyes blazing, he tackles Claude, dragging him to the ground. The two men roll around, trying to strangle each other. Hoppin' Bob hustles down the hill and drags Ray off of Claude. But Claude comes back for more. Hoppin' Bob finds himself in the middle of the fray. That's when the cavalry arrives. Two trusties use their rifles to crack Ray and Claude over the backs of their heads, sending them both down for the count. Hoppin' Bob empties his canteen over their faces. They sputter back to consciousness. HOPPIN' BOB Now you girls set aside your differences and get back to work or I'll see to it -- RAY -- we'll spend a night in the hole. We heard this shit before. Ray and Claude stagger to their feet and pick up their tools. Hoppin' Bob and the trusties head back up the hill. Ray starts to chuckle. CLAUDE What the fuck are you laughing about? Ray opens his palm to reveal TWO PEBBLES. Claude regards Ray with new-found respect. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD -- SUNDOWN One by one, the prisoners of Camp 8 climb into the mule carts under the watchful eye of Hoppin' Bob. As each man passes, he removes a pebble from his pocket. The last one in is Willie. Hoppin' Bob's pocket is now empty. HOPPIN' BOB All in, boss! DILLARD Move it out. HOPPIN' BOB Movin' it out, boss. Dillard spurs his horse, escorting the mule carts back to camp. EXT. FIELD -- SUNDOWN As the carts fade into the distance, Ray and Claude pop up from a roadside ditch and take off for a grove of trees in the opposite direction. EXT. WOODS -- SUNDOWN Running for all they're worth, Ray and Claude crash through the bramble. Claude trips over a root and sprawls face first in the bushes. Ray turns around and helps him to his feet. Claude is still laughing giddily. He throws his arms around Ray. CLAUDE You did it, man! You got us out! Next stop, New York City! RAY New York's a long way's off. Let's just keep moving, okay? As Ray and Claude disappear into the woods... DISSOLVE TO: INT. BUNKHOUSE -- NIGHT Radio's pulling in some jazz music out of New Orleans. Prisoners hit their bunks as the floorwalker does the nightly head count. He stops at Claude and Ray's empty bunks, glancing around, puzzled. EXT. DILLARD'S PORCH -- NIGHT Dillard smokes a cigarette on the swing. His wife steps out with a fresh bourbon and ice. Suddenly, SIRENS start to wail and emergency floodlights blaze to life at Camp 8. EXT. FIELD -- NIGHT Hounds scramble down from the back of a truck and gather around the DOG BOY. He holds out a handful of soiled laundry and a dozen snouts sniff it thoroughly. Nearby, Dillard gathers a DOZEN MEN with rifles and flashlights into a posse. He puts a cigarette in his mouth. Hoppin' Bob lights it for him. EXT. WOODS -- NIGHT Trees rise ominously around Ray and Claude as they push through dense underbrush. CLAUDE I know these trees all look the same, but I'm getting an awful familiar vibration from this one right here. You sure you know where we're going? RAY Absolutely. The map is very clear. CLAUDE Let me take a look at that map. Claude considers it from various angles. CLAUDE You call this a map? What was Cookie smoking when he drew this? RAY Cookie didn't draw it. I did. CLAUDE You drew this?! RAY I knew you wouldn't come if I didn't have a map. CLAUDE That gripes my soul, man. We're out here in the middle of nowhere. There is shit nibbling at my balls! Don't tell me you don't know where we're going! Ray shrugs and presses on. Dumbfounded, Claude considers the map again, then tears it to shreds. The braying of hounds echoes through the trees. CLAUDE Hey, wait up! EXT. THE WOODS -- NIGHT Ray and Claude race through the underbrush. EXT. THE WOODS -- NIGHT Dillard and his men follow the dogs through the woods, hot on the scent. EXT. THE WOODS -- NIGHT Ray and Claude race up to a chain-link fence. On the other side, an old Ford is parked on a dirt road. Hearing the posse closing in behind them, Ray and Claude fling themselves onto the fence. EXT. THE WOODS -- NIGHT The posse is gaining ground. Dillard takes two men off to the left, sending the rest of the men straight ahead. EXT. THE WOODS -- NIGHT Claude clears the fence first and scrambles for the old Ford. Ray's shirt snags on a piece of wire as he drops down from the fence. Stuck, he dangles helplessly a few feet off the ground. INT. FORD -- NIGHT Claude yanks open the door and jumps behind the wheel. TWO WHITE TEENAGERS bolt up in the backseat where they were necking. After a beat -- group scream. The half-dressed teenagers dive from the car and scramble off down the road. Claude twists the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life. CLAUDE Come on, Ray, time to go! RAY I'm stuck! Claude sees Ray caught up on the fence, then hears the sounds of the approaching posse. If he floored it right now, he might make it. But he can't just leave Ray hanging there. EXT. FENCE -- NIGHT Claude runs up and grabs Ray's legs, pulling for all he's worth. The shirt rips free, sending Ray and Claude tumbling to the ground. They leap to their feet and turn toward the car -- running smack into the barrel of Dillard's shotgun. EXT. SUPERINTENDENT'S MANSION -- DAY An OLD BLACK PRISONER delivers a frosty mint julep to SUPERINTENDENT ABERNATHY who rocks slowly in his chair. At his feet, his 10-year-old daughter MAE ROSE is playing jacks. Her long blonde hair makes her look like a little angel. MAE ROSE Look, daddy. They caught those two men who escaped last night. Mae Rose is pointing down the drive, where Dillard and a couple of trusties march Ray and Claude toward the house. ABERNATHY They ain't men, Mae Rose. They're convicts. And nigger convicts to boot. Can you say nigger? MAE ROSE Nagger? ABERNATHY No, nigger. MAE ROSE Nigger. ABERNATHY That's my girl. Bound by leg irons and handcuffs, Ray and Claude are deposited at the bottom of the stairs. DILLARD Here they are, Superintendent. We tracked 'em all the way to the Tallahachie. ABERNATHY That's quite a ways. I'm glad you New York boys could see some of our lovely countryside while you're down here. What do you say, Mae Rose? How should we teach these two a lesson? Mae Rose considers their faces. Ray and Claude look like they've been to hell and back. MAE ROSE A night in the hole? ABERNATHY Better make it a week. Dillard nods and turns Ray and Claude around. As they march back down the drive, Abernathy takes sip of his mint julep and affectionately pats Mae Rose on the head. EXT. CAMP 8 -- DAY The incorrigibles of Camp 8 gather at the gun line, watching silently as Dillard and a couple of trusties march Ray and Claude toward the hole. EXT. THE HOLE -- DAY The trusties shove them each into a small, dank cell and slam the doors behind them. Dillard secures both doors with an iron bar. DILLARD See you in a week, boys. OMITTED Sequence omitted from original script. INT. RAY'S CELL -- DAY Ray slumps to the floor, propping his feet against the wall. RAY Hey, Claude. I just want to say thanks for coming back for me. INT. CLAUDE'S CELL -- DAY Claude considers his bleak surroundings. It's a small, uncomfortable space, not even big enough to lie down. Just a tin bucket for a toilet. CLAUDE Don't mention it. RAY (off) Hell, you'd probably be half way to New York by now... CLAUDE I'm serious, man. Don't mention it. Ever. EXT. THE HOLE -- DAY The sun beats down on the tin roofs... INT. BUNKHOUSE -- CAGE -- NIGHT The prisoners are gathered around a table, laying out money. As usual, Poker Face is keeping tabs. COOKIE I'll take Claude to die on Wednesday for fifty cents. POKER FACE Wednesday for two bits. And don't forget you already owe me a steak. BISCUIT I'll take Claude for Friday. That's my birthday. With an ear to his receiver, Radio slaps his money on the table. RADIO Weatherman says a heat wave's coming. I say neither one of 'em son of bitches gonna last past Thursday. POKER FACE I told you before, I don't take pennies. Two cigarettes or one nickel minimum. What about you, Willie? Gonna get in on this action? WILLIE I got a crispy new dollar bill says both of them gonna make it. This gives the men pause. Willie tosses his money on the table. POKER FACE Now that's what I call a bet. GOLDMOUTH It's a mighty long shot, Willie. Nobody ever made it a week in the hole. JANGLE LEG Not in August, anyway. But Willie leaves the money where it is. POKER FACE Who else has some guts around here? Poker Face makes notations as the betting resumes. EXT. FIELD -- DAY Work goes on as usual for the prisoners of Camp 8. Trusties keep their eyes peeled for slackers. EXT. THE HOLE -- DAY The brick shacks bake in the noonday sun. EXT. FIELD -- DAY Biscuit moves down the line offering the ladle to the men as they struggle under a crushing heat wave. EXT. THE HOLE -- DAY Superintendent Abernathy strides up and gives the nod to Dillard, who unlocks the doors. Huddled in their respective cells, Ray and Claude shrink from the bright sunlight. Then, slowly and painfully, they rise to their feet. In the background, the incorrigibles gather at the gun line as word spreads that the fellows are still alive. Abernathy glances at the crowd with annoyance. ABERNATHY I don't think these boys have learned their lesson. Let's give 'em another week for good measure. DILLARD Sure you want to do that, sir? ABERNATHY Don't you ever question me, Sgt. Dillard. When I give an order, you jump to it, or I'll kick you and that first-cousin you call a wife outta that pretty little house so fast it'll make your pin-head spin. You got that? DILLARD Yes, sir. Dillard slams the doors on Ray and Claude and clamps shut the padlocks. Abernathy smiles at the incorrigibles, who regard him with undisguised hatred. AT THE GUN LINE A somber Poker Face offers Willie a wad of bills. POKER FACE Well, they made it a week. Looks like you win, Willie. WILLIE Let it ride. INT. CLAUDE'S CELL -- NIGHT A slot at the bottom of the door opens. A tin plate of mush slides through and the slot closes. Slumped in the corner, Claude reaches for the food -- but a RAT beats him to it, scampering out of the shadows and leaping onto the dish. INT. RAY'S CELL -- NIGHT A commotion and wild screams come from Claude's cell. Ray leaps to his feet, shouting through the wall. RAY Claude? You alright?! INT. CLAUDE'S CELL -- NIGHT Claude continues to stomp the rat. CLAUDE Can't take it no more, Ray! Die, motherfucker! Gotta get the fuck outta here! Claude pounds against the door, raising a holy racket. We continue to cut back and forth between cells as needed. RAY Keep it together, Claude. You wake up the man, he'll shoot you for sure. CLAUDE He'd be doing me a favor. I'm getting outta here one way or the other! Goddamn rats and shit! Fuck! Claude continues shouting and pounding. RAY All right, man, just settle down. We'll get outta here, Claude. We'll get outta here real soon. CLAUDE How the fuck are we gonna do that, Ray?! Ray looks around his cell. Claude's pounding is bound to wake up somebody soon. RAY We'll just get off at the next stop. CLAUDE (stops pounding, confused) Say what? RAY That's right, we'll get off at the next stop. The train's pulling into the station right now. CLAUDE The hell you talking about? What train? RAY We're in the Bronx, my man. Hundred and Sixty First Street. Claude focuses on what Ray is saying and starts to breathe easier. CLAUDE Hundred and Sixty First Street? That's Yankee Stadium. RAY Hell, yes, Yankee Stadium. Bombers are playing a double-header against the Red Sox. CLAUDE Red Sox... Who's on the mound? RAY I don't know. Who do you want? CLAUDE Allie Reynolds. He's my boy. RAY Sure, it says Allie Reynolds right here in the program. He's warming up right now. Man, we're so close to the field I need cleats. How'd you get such good seats? CLAUDE I know people. RAY They must be the right people. Whoa, there goes the hot dog man. Let's get a couple. Damn, that smells good. Nothing like a ballpark hot dog, huh? CLAUDE You get ketchup? RAY Ketchup? Who eats ketchup on a hot dog? Mustard's what you want. CLAUDE I can't eat it with mustard. EXT. THE HOLE -- NIGHT Dillard strides toward the hole, shotgun in hand. He pauses to listen to the argument, cocking an eyebrow in befuddlement. RAY (off) Give me back that hot dog. I'll eat it myself. CLAUDE (off) What am I gonna eat? RAY (off) You can starve to death for all I care. Now shut up, the game's about to start. CLAUDE (off) Hey, man, is Babe Ruth in the lineup today? RAY (off) Of course, he's in the lineup. There he goes right there. Hey, Babe...! Dillard shakes his head, shoulders his gun and heads back toward his house. EXT. THE HOLE -- DAY Abernathy gives the nod to Dillard, who unlocks the doors. Two trusties drag Ray and Claude out of their cells. INT. BUNKHOUSE -- DAY The men crowd around the windows. RADIO What's going on? Are they alive or dead? GOLDMOUTH Don't look too good. POKER FACE They're not moving. EXT. THE HOLE -- DAY Slowly, Claude opens his eyes, squinting in the harsh light of day. Summoning his strength, he staggers to his feet. CLAUDE Hey, Ray... Ray's eyes blink open. Claude holds out a hand and helps him stand up. They share a look. They made it. ABERNATHY (scowling) Sergeant Dillard, make sure these two are out in the fields first thing in the morning. Abernathy turns on his heels. Dillard considers the two tough guys standing before him. DILLARD Go on, get inside. Ray and Claude stagger toward the bunkhouse as the incorrigibles gather on the porch and help them in out of the sun. DISSOLVE TO: INSERT -- TIME PASSAGE (Note: This montage is mixed with 16mm and Super 8 footage. A beautiful 1940s song plays over.) A. King Kong is machined-gunned off the top of the Empire State Building... B. FDR introduces his New Deal... C. The incorrigibles chop weeds... D. With Willie and Claude standing guard, Ray samples a batch of moonshine from a secret still in his footlocker... E. At the height of the depression, poor people line up in front of a soup kitchen... F. Ray and the crew sit around the poker table playing cards and laughing... G. Ray opens a letter and pulls out a snapshot of his mama which he places over his bunk. H. The incorribles level a road... I. Jesse Owens wins the 100 meter race at the 1936 Olympics in Berlin... J. Benny Goodman sets the kids dancing with wild abandon in the aisles of the Paramount Theater... K. The Hindenburg bursts into flames... L. Claude writes a letter, "Dear Sylvia"... M. In the juke joint, Sylvia reads the letter and smiles. She shows it to a few other WORKING GIRLS... N. Adolf Hitler stabs the air in front of a foreboding sea of Nazis... O. The 1939 World's Fair opens in New York... P. Ray nails a sign to the side of the bunkhouse: RAY'S BOOM BOOM ROOM. He steps back to admire the effect. Behind him, Sylvia and her friends mingle with the incorrigibles in the yard... Dillard takes his cut as Claude and Sylvia head for the tonk house. Ray and his date step up... Q. Lou Gehrig is honored at Yankee Stadium. "Today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the Earth..." R. With a pillow stuffed under a home-made Santa outfit, Ray distributes chocolate to the incorrigibles while Claude and Willie decorate the saddest little Christmas tree you ever saw. S. The 1940 Oldsmobile is introduced... T. Japanese Zeros bomb Pearl Harbor... U. FDR declares "a day that will live in infamy."... V. A WWII newsreel shows American G.I. s storming a beach in the South Pacific... INT. MESS HALL (1943) -- NIGHT The inmates of Camp 8 cheer for the American soldiers up on a makeshift movie screen. Instead of black and white stripes, the prisoners now wear blue twill. In an audience of new faces, the CAMERA FINDS some familiar ones. Ray and Claude are surrounded by their crew -- Willie, Radio, Poker Face, Cookie, Biscuit, Jangle Leg and Goldmouth. A decade has passed. EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY A line of NEW PRISONERS stands before Dillard, now 10 years older. DILLARD ...Camp 8 is for incorrigibles, so whatever you've done to get here, believe me, we are not impressed. You new men are probably noticing that we have no fences here at Camp 8. We don't need no fences, we have the gun line. It runs from shack to shack clear around the yard -- Dillard pauses in front of a big country boy who can't be more than 18 years old. The kid is bouncing a rubber ball. DILLARD What the hell you think you're doing? The kid don't answer. An OLD GUY steps forward. OLD GUY Excuse me, boss. That kid don't talk. Something wrong with his head, just can't get right, boss. DILLARD Can't get right, huh? We'll see how long he last. Now, where was I? HOPPIN' BOB We don't need no fences at Camp 8, boss. DILLARD That's right. We don't need no fences, we have the gun line. It runs from shack to shack clear around the yard. You are now inside the gun line... INT. BUNKHOUSE -- DAY Ray and some of the fellas are playing poker. Dillard's voice drifts in through the open window. RAY (mouthing along) If you step outside the gun line without my permission, you will be shot. If you trip and fall over the gun line, you will be shot. If you spit, if you pee, if you stick your ass out and take a dump over the gun line, you will be shot... He lays down his cards and rakes in the pot. EXT. BASEBALL FIELD -- DAY Jangle Leg pitches to Radio, who swings and misses. Behind the plate, Goldmouth tosses the ball back to Jangle Leg. On the sideline, Ray teaches three-card monte to CAN'T GET RIGHT. Claude paces nearby. CLAUDE I try to teach 'em the finer points of the game, share my wisdom, but I don't know why I bother. They don't listen, they sure don't learn... Another pitch, another strike. RAY What you're dealing with here is a complete lack of talent. CLAUDE I'm sick of watching Camp 12 win the championship. Every year they get to roast the victory pig and we get dick. This year I want that pig. Radio knocks a grounder up the middle. CLAUDE Alright, Radio, there you go. Who wants to hit next? Can't Get Right looks at Ray. RAY You want to hit? (to Claude) Yo, Claude. Give Can't Get Right a shot. CLAUDE (skeptical) Him? RAY Can't be worse than any of these other fools. CLAUDE All right, grab the bat. Let's see what you can do. Can't Get Right shuffles to the plate. Goldmouth hands him the bat. CLAUDE Jangle Leg's gonna throw the ball nice and easy. You just go ahead and take a swing. Jangle Leg tosses the ball. Can't Get Right swings and connects with a mighty CRACK! The incorrigibles crane their necks as the ball disappears into the sky. They turn to look at Can't Get Right. Ray gives Claude a significant look, then tosses another ball out to Jangle Leg on the mound. CLAUDE Okay. Let's try that again. This time give it a little juice. Jangle Leg nods, winds up and delivers a whistling fast ball. Can't Get Right clobbers it. Once again, the incorrigibles track the departing projectile. RAY Told ya. Can't Get Right smiles for the first time. EXT. SUPERINTENDENT'S MANSION -- DAY The men of Camp 8 paint a fence along the drive leading up to the big house. RADIO I heard Camp 12 got themselves a son- of-a-bitch used to pitch for the Mud Hens. GOLDMOUTH That boy got a year for jay-walking. RAY Judge must have money riding on the championship. CLAUDE Don't matter who Camp 12 puts on the mound. All I know is when this season's over Camp 8's gonna have pork chops. Just then a U. S. Army Jeep swerves past the men and parks in front of the mansion. Young CAPT. TOM BURNETTE helps MAE ROSE out of the car. The prisoners stare furtively at her long legs and curly blonde tresses. POKER FACE Looks like little Mae Rose has grown up. BISCUIT And out. COOKIE Mmm-mm, that girl's got gams. CLAUDE She's got it all. And it's firm and round and fully packed. RAY You shred it, wheat. That there is fresh water. Next to them, Can't Get Right stares openly, mesmerized by her beauty. Ray nudges him. RAY Be cool, man. You can look, just don't drool. Up at the mansion, Abernathy and his WIFE come out onto the porch, all smiles. ABERNATHY How was the honeymoon? Am I gonna be a grandaddy soon? MRS. ABERNATHY Don't pay attention to the superintendent, Tom. You're going to stay for supper, aren't you? TOM Afraid not. I'm shipping out this afternoon. The prisoners steal glances as Mae Rose kisses her new husband goodbye. She gives them quite a show, raising her leg behind her just like Betty Grable. Then Tom climbs into the Jeep and pulls away. Mae Rose takes a long glance at the prisoners. The men all look away -- except Can't Get Right who stands there smiling innocently. Mae Rose gives him a little wink, then turns her back and bounces up the steps. EXT. BASEBALL FIELD -- DAY A plump PIG roots about in a small pen. A sign dangles from a post -- "First Prize." The incorrigibles of Camp 8 limber up for the big game with the inmates of Camp 12 across the field. POKER FACE Think you can handle something that big, Cookie? COOKIE I handled your mama, didn't I? Don't y'all worry. I got plans for that bad boy. Ain't none of him going to waste. Beyond the fence, a late-model sedan rolls up. STAN BLOCKER, in a straw hat and a rumpled suit, climbs out and stretches his legs. Irritated, he smacks a mosquito and exchanges a few words with Dillard. DILLARD Banks! Get over here! Claude hustles over, removing his hat. DILLARD This is Stan Blocker. Scout for the Nigger Leagues. BLOCKER Negro Leagues, actually. Pittsburgh Crawfords. Ever hear of us? CLAUDE We get the games on the radio sometimes. BLOCKER We played down in Jackson yesterday. Heard a rumor you've got a boy up here who can hit the ball a ton. CLAUDE You probably mean Can't Get Right. That's him over there. BLOCKER Can't Get Right? That's the kid's name? Can I talk to him? CLAUDE You can try, but you won't get too far. Why you interested? BLOCKER Crawford's are always looking for new talent. CLAUDE Maybe you didn't notice, but this is a prison. BLOCKER There are ways around that. Right sergeant? Blocker winks at Dillard, then glances at the incorrigibles practicing in the field. Goldmouth, Cookie, Poker Face, Biscuit -- they don't exactly inspire confidence. BLOCKER Nice looking squad. See you after the game. Blocker takes a seat on the bench. EXT. BASEBALL FIELD -- DAY The inmates of Camp 12 are in the field. Our boys from Camp 8 cheer for Cookie digging in at the plate. Ray taunts the opposition from the third base line. The PITCHER winds up and releases a fast ball. Cookie swings and connects for a base hit up the middle. IN THE STANDS Mrs. Abernathy and Mrs. Dillard share a box of Cracker Jack. MRS. ABERNATHY Of course, the superintendent's hoping for a boy, but personally, I'd prefer a girl. MRS. DILLARD Whatever it is will be a little gift from heaven. Look at the way she glows. Mae Rose sits next to them. She is SIX MONTHS PREGNANT. She removes her sunglasses and coyly bites a fingernail when she spots Can't Get Right in the on-deck circle. DOWN ON THE FIELD Can't Get Right smiles shyly. Sensing trouble, Claude ushers Can't Get Right toward the plate, massaging his shoulders. CLAUDE You're my boy, just keep what little mind you have focused on the game. If you hit that ball the way I know you can, you might just be our ticket off this farm. Can't Get Right digs in. Claude returns to the sidelines and appeals to the gods. The pitcher winds up and releases a fast ball. Can't Get Right connects with that familiar CRACK! Blocker stands up and watches the ball clear the fence and just keep going. With his team cheering him on, Can't Get Right trots around the bases. But he's still looking at Mae Rose. EXT. CAMP 8 YARD (LATER) -- DAY Cookie slowly turns the pig on a spit over an open fire. The incorrigibles are savoring a victory feast. As always, trusty guards keep an eye on things. Off to the side, Blocker is laughing with Ray and Claude. He takes a hit off Ray's bottle of shine. It's not his first, either. BLOCKER Mark my words, within five years there's gonna be a colored man playing in the majors. RAY Come on, the world hasn't changed that much. BLOCKER Maybe not yet. But it will. And I'll be out of a job. Damn, that's some tasty hooch. CLAUDE It's amazing what Ray here can do with a couple of pounds of potato skins and some molasses. RAY So, Blocker, what do you think of our boy? BLOCKER I think that boy could be the next Josh Gibson. I'm gonna talk to the front office about him, you can bet on that. Damn, it's getting late. We got a game in Memphis tomorrow. Blocker starts for his car, parked just beyond the gun line. CLAUDE What about us? Don't forget to mention us. RAY We're like his handlers. He can't function without us. BLOCKER I'll put in a good word for you. You've done a good job with that boy. Thanks for your hospitality. Ray and Claude's eyes gleam with hope as Blocker's car rumbles off down the road. EXT. SUPERINTENDENT'S MANSION -- NIGHT Inside, a woman screams in agony. Then, the HEALTHY CRIES of a new-born baby. INT. MAE ROSE'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT Superintendent Abernathy paces anxiously in front of a white curtain surrounding Mae Rose's bed. Suddenly, Mrs Abernathy staggers out from behind the curtain with a stricken look on her face. She tries to speak, but words fail her. Her legs go wobbly and she faints dead away. ABERNATHY Uh, doctor... The DOCTOR steps from behind the curtain, drawing it behind him. He checks Mrs. Abernathy's pulse. DOCTOR She'll be fine. She just had a bit of a shock. ABERNATHY Is Mae Rose okay? DOCTOR She's doing just fine. ABERNATHY And the baby? DOCTOR (vague) He's a big one. ABERNATHY It's a boy! Well, let's get a look at him. Abernathy pushes past the doctor and yanks open the curtain. Mae Rose is propped up in bed, looking exhausted. ABERNATHY Well, where is he? Where's my new grandson? The NURSE turns around, cradling the baby in her arms. Abernathy gently pulls back the soft blanket. His eyes widen with horror upon discovering that the newest member of the Abernathy family is black. EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY Can't Get Right bounces his rubber ball off the wall, catching it on the rebound. INT. BUNKHOUSE CAGE -- DAY Ray passes around his latest batch of buck as the men discuss Can't Get Right's professional prospects. The thump-thump of the ball on the wall outside plays over. POKER FACE You really think they'll let him out of here just to play baseball? WILLIE Why not? Boy's got God-given talent. CLAUDE God may have given it, but Claude Banks spotted it and nurtured it. RAY Damn straight. I expect those Pittsburgh Crawdads to remember that. CLAUDE Crawfords. RAY Whatever. COOKIE (glancing out the window) Heads up, here comes trouble. EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY Abernathy drives his sedan up to the bunkhouse. All of his worldly possessions are strapped to the roof. It appears that the Abernathys are leaving town. In the back seat, Mae Rose cradles her baby. Her mother sits next to her. Dillard steps out into the yard to confer with the Superintendent, then turns to address the inmates. DILLARD Alright, listen up! I want every man lined up out here in the yard on the double! Let's move it! HOPPIN' BOB You heard what the man said! Move it! EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY Abernathy holds his newborn grandson up next to Ray's face. Hmm. Scowling, he moves a little further down the line, scrutinizing the features of each man. He pauses in front of Claude, holds up the baby. Maybe. Abernathy stops in front Goldmouth. Holds up the baby. The possibility makes him shudder. He moves on to Can't Get Right. His eyes narrow. ABERNATHY I know it was somebody from this camp. I can feel it in my bones. Disgusted, Abernathy hands the baby back to Mae Rose. Then he turns, walks back to Can't Get Right and places a revolver against his head. ABERNATHY Do you know who the father of that little chocolated baby is? Can't Get Right nods slowly. Abernathy smiles. ABERNATHY Well, then, who is it? Up and down the line, the men brace themselves for the worst. Can't Get Right just grins. Enraged, Abernathy cocks the revolver. That's when Ray steps forward. RAY The baby's mine, boss. Stunned, Abernathy lowers the gun and approaches Ray. Then Claude steps forward. CLAUDE He's lying, boss. I'm the father of that baby. Confused, Abernathy looks back and forth between the two men. Then Willie steps forward. WILLIE Actually, it was me, boss. I know I may look old... BISCUIT Any fool could see that baby's mine, boss. COOKIE I beg to differ. That cute little rascal belongs to me... POKER FACE I'm the father... RADIO I'm the father, boss... GOLDMOUTH I'm the father... JANGLE LEG I'm the father... And so it goes down the line, until every last man of Camp 8 has stepped forward to claim kinship with the Superintendent. Even hard-ass Dillard can't help cracking a smile. Disgusted, confused and thoroughly fed up, Abernathy jams the revolver into his belt and climbs into the car. As he guns the engine, Mae Rose gazes out the back window, smiling one last time at the father of her baby. Can't Get Right smiles back. DISSOLVE TO: EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY It's visiting Sunday and Ray's Boom Boom Room is in full swing. Sylvia's girls are everywhere. Down at the gunline, Dillard takes his cut from inmates lined up for their turn in the tonk. A FIVE-PIECE PRISON BAND is playing the blues. Nearby, Willie is dispensing Ray's moonshine from a bunkhouse window. He raises a jar in a toast. WILLIE To Superintendent Abernathy. May he have many more grandchildren! The incorrigibles erupt in boisterous agreement. Claude grabs Can't Get Right and shakes him. CLAUDE What I want to know is where? When? How? WILLIE Wasting your breath, Claude. He ain't the type to kiss and tell. Just then, Rev. Clay and his daughter emerge from the mess hall and start across the yard. It's a good thing the old man is blind because he wouldn't want to see how far his flock has strayed. The Reverend inhales deeply as one of Sylvia's girls passes nearby. REV. CLAY There's a sweet fragrance in the air today. CLAY'S DAUGHTER The magnolias are blooming early this year, daddy. Blissed out incorrigibles enjoy a last dance as the band downshifts into a slow, sultry number. In the midst of the dancers, Claude clings to Sylvia. Nearby, Jangle Leg dances intimately with a YOUNG WOMAN. Up on the porch, Ray refreshes Biscuit's drink. Biscuit has been crying and it shows. The liquor probably isn't helping. RAY Don't take it so hard, Biscuit. She don't mean nothin' to him. BISCUIT Hell with him. It ain't that. He pulls some folded sheets of paper from his pocket, passes them to Ray. RAY These are free papers. BISCUIT (devastated) What am I gonna do out there, Ray? I can't go home to my mama like this. I'll get the strap for sure. RAY Come on, Biscuit, this is good news. Your mama's gonna break down in tears when you show up on her doorstep. Poker Face leans in. POKER FACE (sotto) I'll give you three to one she gives him the strap. Ray gives Poker face a shove, then turns back to Biscuit. RAY It's 1945. It's a different world now. BISCUIT Not for me, it ain't. RAY Well you can't stay here, Biscuit. This ain't no life for a man. Any one of these fellas would give their right arm to be in your shoes. I sure know I would. Ray hands back the papers and heads off to dance with a PRETTY YOUNG WOMAN lingering nearby. Left alone, Biscuit polishes off his moonshine and checks his reflection in the bunkhouse window. BISCUIT No life on the inside, no life on the outside... He crumples the discharge papers and drops them. Then he steps down from the porch and walks calmly past the dancing prisoners toward the gun line. Ray lifts his head off his date's shoulder. Something about the way Biscuit is walking suggests that he isn't going to stop. RAY Hey, Biscuit...! But it's too late. Biscuit crosses the gun line and keeps walking, his eyes focused on the horizon. TRUSTY Man over the line! The band stops playing, the dancers grow still. Dillard turns around and squints. DILLARD Goddamnit, Biscuit, get back here! But Biscuit isn't paying attention. He breaks into a run. Dillard nods to Hoppin' Bob who raises his rifle and draws a bead. But he can't pull the trigger. He lowers his gun. Shots ring out from the shooter shacks. Biscuit reels from the impact of the bullets and looks down sadly at the blood spreading across his ring-arounds... Prisoners silently gather at the gunline. Jangle Leg pushes his way through the crowd and crosses the gunline without hesitation. Dillard indicates for the shooters to hold their fire. They train their rifles on Jangle Leg as he strides toward his fallen companion. Jangle Leg gently lifts Biscuit's lifeless body into his big arms and somberly carries him back toward the camp. The CAMERA RISES HIGH OVERHEAD as the prisoners make way for Jangle Leg to cross back over the gunline. INT. BUNKHOUSE -- DAY A dark mood hangs over the men. Jangle Leg sits stoically as Radio fiddles with his receiver. Nearby, Poker Face and Ray play a listless game of gin rummy. Claude is thumbing distractedly through a dog-eared copy of Baseball Digest. RADIO Hey, fellas, I got Chicago. But nobody can muster much enthusiasm for this news. Radio shrugs and drops down on his bunk. Just then, Can't Get Right walks past heading for the door. He's dressed in civilian clothes, his bindle slung over his shoulder. CLAUDE Hey, Can't Get Right, where you going? Why you dressed like that? Can't Get Right holds out a piece of paper which Ray scrutinizes. RAY It's a pardon from the governor. CLAUDE Let me see that. The incorrigibles gather around for a glimpse at Can't Get Right's ticket to freedom. CLAUDE Where'd you get this? Can't Get Right nods out the window. Stan Blocker is waiting by his car. EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY Claude storms across the yard and stops at the gun line. Ray is a few steps behind. CLAUDE Yo, Blocker, what's going on here? BLOCKER Kid's getting out. I got him a pardon. CLAUDE Yeah, but what about me and Ray? I didn't see our names on that pardon. You said you were gonna put in a good word for us. BLOCKER I did, Claude. I mentioned you. I mentioned you both. But the fact is, pardons don't come cheap. The kid can hit. What can you do? This hits Claude hard. RAY Let it go, Claude. CLAUDE I'm not gonna let it go. The man needs to explain himself. Makin' promises. BLOCKER Look, I am truly sorry about this. I'd like to help you... CLAUDE But you can't. BLOCKER At least the kid's getting out. Isn't this what you wanted? Claude looks around as the incorrigibles begin to gather. He's on the spot. Dillard approaches with Can't Get Right. Claude looks into the big kid's eyes. CLAUDE (resigned) Yeah. Of course it is. Steeling himself to the reality of the situation, Claude gives Can't Get Right a hug. CLAUDE You show them Crawfords how to play ball. RAY Make 'em throw strikes. Can't Get Right nods. He steps up to the gun line and looks at both shooter shacks. DILLARD It's alright. You're a free man now. Can't Get Right steps across the gun line. Blocker opens the car door for him. But before he climbs in, Can't Get Right reaches into his pocket and pulls out his rubber ball. With a smile, he tosses it to Claude, who snatches it out of the air. BLOCKER Don't worry, we'll take good care of him. Blocker tips his hat and climbs behind the wheel. Claude and Ray watch Blocker's car drive off under a red Mississippi sunset. Slowly, the inmates drift back toward the bunkhouse until Ray an Claude are left alone at the gun line. RAY One of the new kids said they're farming those acres just north of the swamp. He said he saw a crop duster flying around the place. CLAUDE I'm not in the mood right now, Ray. RAY He said they keep it parked out behind the barn. Can't be that hard to fly a plane. Lots of people do it. CLAUDE They're called pilots! I'm serious, Ray. I'm not in the mood for one of your stupid, fucked-up plans right now. RAY I don't see you coming up with any plans. CLAUDE (getting mad) My plan is on his way to Pittsburgh right now. That congenital idiot just got himself a pardon signed by the governor thanks to us, but we can't seem to do nothing for ourselves. Don't you feel a little disgusted right now? RAY Crop duster. CLAUDE I ain't getting in no airplane with you. I'm finally wrapping my mind around the concept. They threw us in this shithole for life. Don't you get it, Ray? We're gonna die here! Might as well head up to the cemetery, pick a plot and start digging. Suddenly enraged, Ray hauls off and knocks Claude down with a solid right. Surprised, Claude touches his bloody lip. RAY My daddy died in prison. He gave up hope and hung himself. What you're talking about is the same damn thing. That ain't how I'm going. CLAUDE Maybe you're fooling yourself, Ray. Maybe you're just a chip off the old block. RAY Take that back or we ain't friends no more, Claude Banks. CLAUDE Here's a news flash, Ray. We never were friends. We've just been stuck together for 12 years. It's been nothing but bad luck since the moment I ran into you. Every time I look at you I get sick to my stomach thinking about what my life could have been if I'd never bumped into Ray Gibson. A hard look comes to Ray's eyes as Claude rises to his feet. RAY Better watch yourself Claude, before you say something you regret. CLAUDE The only thing I regret is the day I met you. RAY Well, if that's the way it is... CLAUDE That's the way it is. RAY Then I have nothing left to say to you. Ray walks away, leaving Claude to nurse his split lip. CLAUDE You never said nothing of value anyway. INSERT -- TIME PASSAGE A. In his Pittsburgh Crawfords uniform, Can't Get Right lays into a fast ball, sending it soaring into the bleachers... B. People dance in the street in Time Square, marking the end of WWII... C. Hoppin' Bob drops a package on Ray's bunk. Ray rips off the brown paper to reveal a book: "So You Want to Learn to Fly..." D. Claude and Sylvia make love in the tonk house... E. In the mess hall, Ray pointedly carries his tray past a table where Claude sits with Willie... F. An A-bomb explodes in the Bikini Atolls... G. Jimmy Stewart hugs his wife and children at the end of "It's a Wonderful Life"... H. Jackie Robinson slides across home plate at Ebbets Field... I. Ray runs full tilt across a field toward a barn. Sure enough, there's the single engine crop duster parked right where he said it would be... J. Claude and another INMATE repair a hole in the bunkhouse roof. They dive for cover as Ray's crop duster swoops low overhead and dips out of sight beyond the trees. A puff of smoke rises into the sky... K. Soot-stained, Ray is marched to the hole and shoved inside... L. Newly elected president Harry Truman holds up a copy of the Chicago Tribune baring the headline "Dewey Defeats Truman"... M. RCA unveils the first color television... N. Cars pull up next to speaker poles in front of a drive-in movie screen... O. In the bunkhouse, early rock and roll plays on a modern 1950s radio that sits where the old vacuum tube receiver used to be. A YOUNG TOUGH now occupies Radio's old bunk... P. At the poker table, Poker Face slumps forward onto his pile of chips, revealing a straight flush. The other men quickly fold... Q. With a TRUSTY standing guard, Claude and Ray silently shovel dirt into Poker Face's grave. The CAMERA MOVES past gravemarkers -- Biscuit, Jangle Leg, Radio... R. Marilyn Monroe's skirt rises on a blast of subway air in "The Seven-Year Itch"... S. Rosa Parks is arrested for refusing to sit in the back of the bus... T. Elvis Presley creates a sensation on the Ed Sullivan Show... U. School children learn to "duck and cover" in the event of nuclear attack... V. The inmates of Camp 8 work to level a road. Ray's on one side, Claude's on the other... W. Prisoners mingle with friends and family on visiting Sunday. Claude waits on the bunkhouse steps. His face brightens when Sylvia appears... X. Blacks sit-in at lunch counters in Greensboro, N.C... Y. Kennedy is elected... Z. OMITTED... AA. Martin Luther King delivers his "I have a dream" speech at the Lincoln Memorial... BB. The Zapruder footage of Kennedy being shot... CC. American soldiers jump down from helicopters and run for the jungles in Vietnam... DD. Ford introduces the 1965 Mustang... EE. The assassination of Malcolm X... FF. Muhammad Ali looms over Sonny Liston, asking "What's my name?"... GG. The CAMERA MOVES past more gravemarkers -- Hoppin' Bob, Goldmouth -- to find Claude and Ray silently shoveling dirt over another casket. Ray pounds a simple marker into the ground: Cookie. Briefly, they lock eyes. But neither one speaks and the moment passes... HH. Go-Go dancers... II. Mao Tse Tung... JJ. Jimi Hendrix at the Monterey Pop Festival... KK. TV's Batman and Robin battle the forces of evil in Gotham City... LL. Black Panthers... MM. Peace Protesters... NN. The death of Martin Luther King... OO. Robert Kennedy... PP. Neil Armstrong sets foot on the moon... QQ. Vida Blue rears back and fires a pitch in the 1972 World Series... EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY On the porch, Willie, now in his 70s, sits in a wheelchair watching the ball game on a black-and-white television. A TRUSTY waits nearby. Ray, now in his mid-60s, emerges from the bunkhouse lugging a duffle bag. RAY Alright Willie, I think I got everything. I'll talk to Dillard, see if I can get up to the infirmary and check up on you. Make sure they're changing your diapers regular. WILLIE They'll be sending you up there soon enough. And not just for a visit, neither. RAY (leaning in) I slipped in a couple of bottles of my latest batch. Help wash down all them pills they'll be giving you. He gives Willie a slap on the back and nods to the trusty. The trusty wheels the old man across the yard where YOUNG PRISONERS mingle with WIVES and FAMILY MEMBERS sporting the fashions of the early '70s -- Afros, mutton chops, paisley prints and bell-bottom pants. ACROSS THE YARD Looking old-style, Claude sits on the mess hall steps waiting for Sylvia. He catches Willie's eye. The two men nod to each other, an unspoken farewell. Then Claude turns to find Ray looking at him from the bunkhouse steps. Ray and Claude hold each others gaze for a moment. Then Ray heads back into the bunkhouse. YVETTE (off) Are you Claude Banks? Claude turns to face YVETTE, a pretty young woman. CLAUDE Yeah. YVETTE My name's Yvette. Sylvia sent me. You look just like she said. CLAUDE She's alright, isn't she? YVETTE Oh, she's fine. She's just not coming today. CLAUDE Why not? YVETTE She got married last month. CLAUDE Married? YVETTE Real nice guy, too. Trumpet player. They moved down to New Orleans. Claude takes this in, staring off into space. YVETTE She always said that if you were on the outside... CLAUDE But I'm not on the outside. I'm in here. YVETTE I know she's sorry she won't be seeing you anymore. Anyway, she wanted me to take care of you. CLAUDE Take care of me? YVETTE You know, go to the tonk or whatever. CLAUDE I'm too old for you. Besides, I'm not much in the mood. YVETTE Want me to come back some other time? CLAUDE (shaking his head) Nice girl like you don't belong in a place like this. But if you talk to Sylvia, tell her old Claude said congratulations. EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY Claude stands at the gun line, staring across at the Dillard house. Mrs. Dillard places a couple of pies on the windowsill to cool. CLAUDE Whites-only pies... Suddenly, he makes a break for the Dillard house. TRUSTY Man over the line! Ray turns to see Claude dashing across no-man's land. Shots ring out from the shooter shack, kicking up dirt around Claude's feet as he serpentines across the field. EXT. DILLARD'S HOUSE -- DAY Breathless, Claude makes it to the kitchen window and digs his hand into the golden-brown crust, shoving a sloppy fistful of pie into his mouth. More shots ring out. Bullets PING all around him. Grabbing the pie, he darts around the side of the building, out of range. Back against the wall, he drops down on his haunches, snarfing pie like a hungry wolf. EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY A case of empty Coke bottles sits in the middle of the yard, glinting in the hot sun. His face smeared with boysenberry, Claude finishes taking off his boots and socks and steps barefoot onto the bottles. DILLARD Comfortable? CLAUDE As a pair of fur-lined bedroom slippers, boss. DILLARD We'll see what those slippers feel like after, say, 24 hours. And if you step down off them bottles -- if one toe so much as touches the dirt -- one of these boys is gonna shoot you dead. Let's see. We need a special man for this job. He takes a trusty's rifle and moves among the inmates, who have gathered around. He stops when he gets to Ray. DILLARD How about it, Ray? Ray glances at Claude, then back at Dillard. DILLARD I'll make you trusty right now. If that pie-eatin' son of a bitch falls off those bottles and you have to shoot him, I'll see to it you get a pardon. Hell, I'll personally escort you out the gate. Dillard offers the rifle to Ray, who doesn't have to think too long. RAY You don't want to give me a gun, boss. I'm liable to use it on you. EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- SUNDOWN Ray's been given the same treatment as Claude. Barefoot, balanced on Coke bottles, the two men stand a few feet apart facing each other. A trusty with a rifle keeps an eye on them. After years of silence, the tension reaches the breaking point... CLAUDE You're a sucker. I'd have taken that deal. RAY Excuse me? Are you talking to me? CLAUDE I'd have knocked you off those bottles, put a bullet in your ass and be half way to New York right now. RAY After all these years of blissful silence, I almost forgot how annoying the sound of your voice can be. CLAUDE I hope you don't think I owe you anything. Because I don't owe you a damn thing. RAY I didn't do if for you, anyway. I just ain't no boot-licking trusty, that's all. The trusty tightens his grip on his rifle. He'd love the opportunity. CLAUDE I was sorry to hear about your mama passing. RAY That was five years ago. CLAUDE I know, but since we're talking, I thought I'd mention it. RAY We're not talking, you're talking, and doing too damn much of it, if you ask me. They stand in stony silence. Then Ray starts to laugh. A long, low belly laugh. CLAUDE What?! RAY You sure looked funny running for those pies, bullets flying all around you. CLAUDE Bullets weren't the problem. That pie was too hot. Burned my tongue. The two men start to laugh. Really laugh. Nearly a decade's worth of laughter comes welling up out of them, and they nearly lose their balance, which only makes them laugh harder. EXT. CAMP 8 YARD -- DAY A trusty bangs the rap iron. Young prisoners pour from the bunkhouse and line up for breakfast. Claude and Ray bring up the rear, the elder statesmen of the bunch. By a long shot. DILLARD Fourteen acres today and only 12 hours of daylight! Eat up and move it out! Gibson! Banks! Get your sorry asses over here! Claude and Ray step out of line and approach Dillard. DILLARD Every morning I wake up praying that Ray Gibson and Claude Banks have died in their sleep and every morning you disappoint me. RAY AND CLAUDE Sorry, boss. DILLARD I stand before you a defeated man. Try as I might, I can't seem to break you. I swear, if they dropped a nuclear bomb on this camp, you and the cockroaches would be the only things left. But starting today at least I won't have to endure your presence any longer. You've got fifteen minutes to clear out your footlockers. You're both being reassigned to the Superintendent's mansion. And I, for one, will not miss you. Ray and Claude share a look. Then Ray embraces Dillard, who stoically endures the breach of his personal space. RAY I always wanted to do that. (sighing) There is so much love inside of this man. EXT. SUPERINTENDENT'S MANSION -- DAY Up on the porch, Claude brings a tray of minted iced tea to Superintendent Wilkins, who sets aside his bible and washes down a couple of pills. Before going back inside, Claude can't resist taunting Ray, busy trimming a hedge out in the hot sun. CLAUDE Oh, yard boy, these pansies could use some attention over here. Perhaps some fertilizer would restore their exuberance. EXT. MARSH -- DAY Claude and Ray beat the bulrushes with switches, rustling a couple of pheasants from their hiding spot. As the birds take wing, Wilkins aims his shot gun and fires twice in rapid succession. Both birds fall from the sky in a flutter of feathers. OMITTED Sequence omitted from original script. OMITTED Sequence omitted from original script. INT. SUPERINTENDENT'S MANSION -- DAY Claude fills Wilkins' water glass as the Superintendent takes a bite of lamb chop and winces in pain. WILKINS Damn dentures slipping again. Everything falls apart when you grow old, eh, Claude? Time sure marches on. CLAUDE Yes, boss. WILKINS You know, I'm fixing on retiring at the end of the summer, gonna try to enjoy what few years I have left. What do you think of this place? It's one of those new retirement communities down on the Gulf. Claude glances at a glossy brochure. From outside, Ray peers suspiciously through the dining room window as he hacks at a rose bush. CLAUDE Ocean views, palm trees, two heated swimming pools and a golf course -- sounds a damn sight better than that infirmary across the way where I'm gonna end up. Claude returns the brochure. WILKINS I apologize, Claude. That was rude of me. CLAUDE That's alright, boss. Takes a lot more than a colorful brochure to hurt my feelings. WILKINS You been on the farm for quite a spell, haven't you? CLAUDE Over forty years now. Me and Ray Gibson out there. Wilkins glances over at the window. Ray ducks out of view. WILKINS Forty years. That's a long time for any crime, even murder. CLAUDE It's a hell of a lot longer when you're innocent. WILKINS Half the men in this prison swear they're innocent. Don't you think that's kinda funny? CLAUDE You have to forgive me if I don't laugh. Claude pushes back into the kitchen, leaving Wilkins to think this one over. INT. SERVANTS' QUARTERS -- NIGHT Ray and Claude are getting ready for bed. RAY You and Wilkins sure are getting chummy. You two planning on going steady, or something? CLAUDE He's just a lonely old man. He likes to talk. RAY Hey, I'm a lonely old man. I like to talk, too. So why don't we start by talking about what kind of a plan you're working on? CLAUDE I'm not working on a plan. RAY You can't fool me, Claude. I know you got something brewing. CLAUDE Goodnight, Ray. Claude punches his pillow and turns off the light. EXT. SUPERINTENDENT'S MANSION -- DAY Ray hacks a rose bush down to the nub. From the garage comes the sound of an engine turning over. Wilkins' 1973 Lincoln Continental convertible lurches down the drive with Claude at the wheel. He screeches to a halt inches from Ray's legs and climbs from the car. RAY What the hell are you doing? CLAUDE Don't touch that car. Claude pulls out a hanky and buffs Ray's finger print off the hood. CLAUDE Wilkins' driver's got the flu, so he asked me to fill in for him. RAY You haven't driven in 40 years, you ain't even got a license. Man's taking his life in his hands, putting you behind the wheel! Where you taking him? CLAUDE Greenville. We're picking up the new Superintendent at the bus station. Ray scowls as Claude straightens his chauffeur uniform and heads up the path to the mansion. EXT. GREENVILLE BUS STATION -- DAY Claude pulls up in front of the station, steps out of the car and holds the door for Wilkins, who checks his watch. WILKINS You know I trust you, Claude. CLAUDE Yes, sir. WILKINS I'll be right back. Wilkins heads into the station, leaving Claude alone with the Continental. All around him are the sights, sounds and smells of the free world. A woman rushes into the arms of a man as he climbs off a bus. Across the street is Grandma Dodi's Pork Rib Joint where Cookie never made it to the peach cobbler. A young brother with a boom box walks by. In the street, kids crowd around the back of an ice cream truck. Then Claude catches his reflection in the car window and frowns. When did he get this old? Unnerved, he moves around to the back of the car and pops open the trunk. RAY (sitting up) Damn, it was getting hot in there. CLAUDE What the hell are you doing in that trunk?! RAY You didn't think I was gonna let you escape alone, did you? CLAUDE I ain't escaping! We're picking up the new super just like I told you. RAY Then you're lucky I came along. Doesn't take a visionary to spot a golden opportunity like this. Now help me out of this trunk. CLAUDE You ain't getting out of that trunk. RAY Come on, man, I'm starting to cramp up here. (Ray struggles out of the trunk) We have the chance right here, right now, I say we go! CLAUDE Go where, Ray? RAY Back to New York for starters. CLAUDE And what will we do when we get there? I'm sixty-five years old, Ray. So are you. What are we gonna do out here? Get married, have kids, settle down? That boat sailed without us, man. RAY This boat's gonna sail without you, too. I don't care if I last one day out here. At least it's one day of freedom. Now gimme those keys. CLAUDE Forget about that. You run if you want to, but you're not taking this car. RAY Claude, man, I'm serious. Give me those keys. CLAUDE I ain't spending a month in the hole so you can take a joy ride. RAY Don't make me take them away from you. CLAUDE Hey, there's Wilkins! Ray looks, Claude clocks him. Ray slumps back into the trunk. Claude stuffs Ray's legs back into the trunk and slams the lid. CLAUDE Who's driving now, bitch? He looks up just as Wilkins and the new superintendent exit the bus station. Warren Pike's hair has gone grey and he's 40 years older, but there's no mistaking the former sheriff of Natchez County. He still bears a nasty scar on his cheek from a wound inflicted long ago. CLAUDE'S POV -- Pike appears as a young man in his sheriff's uniform striding slowly toward him. Claude blinks and looks again. Pike has returned to his old self as he and Wilkins step up. PIKE (dropping his bags) There you go, boy. Oblivious, Pike climbs into the back seat. Wilkins nods to Claude. WILKINS Come on, Claude, time to go. Claude snaps to it, grabbing the bags. He considers opening the trunk, but decides to carry them around to the front seat with him. EXT. KITCHEN PORCH -- DUSK Backs to the CAMERA, Ray and Claude urinate, presumably off the porch. RAY You sure it was him? CLAUDE Some faces you just don't forget. Warren Pike's is one of 'em. RAY I don't like it, I don't like it one bit. We shoulda taken that car when we had the opportunity. We'd be half way to New York by now. CLAUDE We'd be in the hole by now. Hey, man, you're peeing on my shoe. RAY I know. Simultaneously, they shake and zip. Claude bends down and picks up a bowl of gumbo, placing it on a tray next to an identical one. INT. DINING ROOM -- NIGHT Wilkins pours a frosty drink and offers it to Pike. WILKINS Lemonade? PIKE I prefer bourbon. WILKINS I'm sorry, I don't keep any liquor in the house. PIKE Well, fortunately, I carry my own. Pike pulls a flask from his jacket and tilts it high. Claude enters from the kitchen with the two steaming bowls of gumbo. WILKINS Hunting's been pretty good on the farm the last few years. It's one of the perks of the job. If you're interested, tomorrow I could show you some of my favorite spots. PIKE You don't have to twist my arm. (digging in) Say now, that gumbo has quite a kick. WILKINS Thank you, Claude. That'll be all for tonight. CLAUDE Goodnight, Mr. Wilkins. Mr. Pike. WILKINS Goodnight, Claude. Pike nods coldly. Claude steps back into the kitchen. PIKE If you don't mind my saying, you seem mighty familiar with your house boy. WILKINS I believe in treating the convicts with respect, if that's what you mean. PIKE (sarcastic) Respect? Well, isn't that progressive. WILKINS If somebody deserves respect, Mr. Pike, they receive it from me, convict or no convict. Pike curls his lip with disdain before taking a healthy spoonful of gumbo. EXT. MARSH -- DAY Claude and Ray beat the bullrushes with switches. Amid a flutter of wings, three pheasants take to the air. Wilkins fires first, knocking one out the sky. Pike pulls off two rounds, playing clean up. EXT. FIELD -- DAY Ray and Claude dump their game bags into the back of a pickup truck. Nearby, Pike drains his flask while Wilkins scrapes mud off his boots. The breeze picks up, clouds fill the sky. WILKINS Well, that's a pretty good haul. What do you say, Mr. Pike? Ready to call it a day? Pike pulls a gold watch from his pocket and releases the face plate. A familiar mechanical tune floats on the gathering breeze. Ray turns around slowly. His eyes fall on the watch in Pike's hand. His daddy's watch. In Pike's hand. PIKE Yeah, it's getting late. I could sure use a bath. RAY That's a real nice watch you got there, sir. Fancy old thing even plays a little tune. PIKE Yeah, it's special. They don't make 'em like this anymore. RAY Sure don't. Mind if I ask where you got it? PIKE Why, my wife gave it to me on our anniversary some years back. Claude looks at the watch, then at Ray. Uh oh. RAY Must have been some time ago. Maybe forty years? PIKE (eyes narrowing) Something like that, yes. RAY She give you that scar, too? Pike thrusts the barrel of his gun up under Ray's chin. PIKE I oughta shoot you for that comment, boy. RAY Like you shot Winston Hancock? Wilkins turns to see Pike holding Ray at gunpoint. WILKINS What's going on here? PIKE I'm afraid I'm gonna have to teach this uppity nigger a lesson in manners. RAY That's Mr. Uppity Nigger to you. Ray grabs the barrel of the shotgun and slams it into Pike's face. Pike rolls over and freezes, staring down the barrel of his own gun now in Ray's hands. Confused, Wilkins points his gun at Ray. CLAUDE Cool it, Ray. You're gonna get us in a lot of trouble. WILKINS He's right, Gibson. Put down the gun and we'll work this out. RAY I'm gonna work this man's brains out the back of his head. PIKE Shoot him, Wilkins! CLAUDE Don't shoot, sir. I can deal with this. (cautiously) Ray, buddy, you don't want to shoot this white man. See, you do that, they'll kill you for sure. And it's not that I like you or anything, but I've kinda gotten used to having you around. RAY He's got my daddy's watch, Claude. I always knew whoever took that watch killed Winston Hancock. And that was you, Mr. Pike. PIKE He's crazy. Don't listen to him, Wilkins. WILKINS Do you realize what your saying, Gibson? RAY That watch was the only thing my daddy ever gave me. It meant the world to me. PIKE Goddamn it, Wilkins, would you please just shoot the nigger! RAY He shoots me, I swear I'll take you with me! I just want to hear you say it. WILKINS Is there any truth to what he's saying, Pike? PIKE What difference does it make? Natchez was better off without Winston Hancock! Who cares if a couple of no- account bootleggers went to jail for his killing? At least the state of Mississippi got 40 years of cheap labor out of the deal! CLAUDE Forty years of cheap labor! Gimme that gun. Claude grabs for the gun. RAY No, I'm gonna kill him -- CLAUDE No, believe me, I'm gonna kill him! Claude yanks the gun free and points it right in Pike's face. Wilkins trains his gun on Claude. But the moment passes. Claude lowers the gun. Bewildered, Wilkins does the same. CLAUDE I can't do it. RAY That's because you're soft. Gimme the gun. CLAUDE What'd you say? RAY I said you're soft. CLAUDE Don't call me soft, I hate it when you call me that. Ray mouths the word -- "soft." Claude clenches his jaw, points the gun and pulls the trigger. Click. Pike smirks and pulls a small gun from his boot. But as he raises it -- BLAM! Pike is hurled backward by a shotgun blast. Shocked, Ray and Claude look at Wilkins, his gun still smoking in his hands. After a significant beat, Ray reaches down and gingerly retrieves his daddy's gold pocket watch. RAY I believe this is mine. EXT. SUPERINTENDENT'S MANSION -- DAY A gurney carrying Pike's body is lifted into the back of a van by two COUNTY CORONERS. Nearby, a distraught Wilkins tells his story to a couple of SHERIFF'S DEPUTIES. WILKINS ...I was drawing a bead on a bird when Mr. Pike just stepped into my line of fire. DEPUTY #1 Where were the two convicts when the shot was fired? WILKINS They were busy loading up the truck. We got him back here as quick as possible, but... I just feel terrible about this... INT. MANSION -- DAY Ray and Claude watch through the window as Wilkins talks to the deputies. CLAUDE Why don't he just tell 'em the truth? RAY He knows nobody wants to hear the truth. One of the deputies pats Wilkins sympathetically on the back. Then he and his partner put away their notebooks and head for their vehicle. Wilkins heads up the steps and into the house. WILKINS Well, I think they bought it. One of the deputies belongs to my church. Visibly shaken, Wilkins takes a seat, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. WILKINS I realize there's no way... There's nothing I can say to make up for forty years... I'll have Charlotte prepare those pardon papers right away. Wilkins winces and swallows a couple of pills from his box. WILKINS Claude, mind helping me to the bathroom? CLAUDE (giving him a hand) Sure, boss. WILKINS I'm not your boss. Not anymore. EXT. PRISON CEMETERY (PRESENT) -- DAY Jake looks at Willie expectantly. JAKE So Ray and Claude got their pardons, right? LEON (smacking him) No, they didn't get their pardons, you dumb shit! If they'd got their pardons way back then, we wouldn't be burying them today, would we? JAKE (chewing on it) Oh, right. Well, why didn't they get those pardons? WILLIE Old man Wilkins' never came out of that bathroom. Died right there on the crapper. LEON Just like Elvis. WILLIE Of course nobody believed Ray and Claude. JAKE That musta messed 'em up pretty bad. LEON What happened to 'em after that, Willie? WILLIE After that? Well, let's see. After that they got old. We all got old. EXT. INFIRMARY -- DAY Ray and Claude, now in their nineties, sit under a tree in the courtyard listening to a Yankees game on a transistor radio. RAY Nurse Humphries was checking my prostate this morning. I got an erection. CLAUDE An erection, huh? Haven't had one of those in a while. RAY Tell me about it. Scared me at first. Then, before I could figure out what to do with it, it was gone. Imagine my disappointment. On the radio, the announcer voice rises in pitch as the Yankees score. Ray and Claude share a satisfied look. CLAUDE Sure would like to see the house that Ruth built one more time. RAY Well, Ruth shoulda built it a little better. Damn thing's falling to pieces. Gonna hurt somebody. CLAUDE What do you expect? It's almost as old as we are. RAY They oughta tear that shit down and ship them Yankees cross the river to Jersey. CLAUDE Remember what that place looked like on a sunny spring day? More beautiful than any church I was ever in. TWO ORDERLIES push a DEAD BODY past on a squeaking gurney. CLAUDE Looks like old Jonesy finally got his walking papers. Ray tips his flask in a simple salute. RAY Over to the morgue and up the hill to the cemetery. Never thought I'd admit it, Claude, but you were right. CLAUDE 'Course I was right. About what? RAY You're the one who said that boneyard's the only way we're getting out of here. We're gonna join all the rest of 'em soon enough. Jangle Leg, Biscuit, Goldmouth, Poker Face, Cookie, Radio -- yes sir, pick a plot and start digging... Ray closes his eyes and settles in for a nap. Claude turns to watch Jonesy squeaking away. Something about what Ray just said has given him an idea. INT. INFIRMARY -- DAY "Oprah" blares on the television. Old convicts linger about in various states of repose and decay. A young ORDERLY pops to the music on his Walkman as he pushes a cart through the ward. Over at a table, Ray and Claude play poker with Willie, a SHAKY OLD JUNKIE and TWO YOUNG GANG BANGERS. The currency on the table isn't poker chips, it's pills of various sizes and colors. GANG BANGER #1 Two Percodan. CLAUDE I'll raise you. GANG BANGER #1 What the fuck are those? CLAUDE Keeps your cholesterol down. GANG BANGER #1 I look like I give a shit about my cholesterol? GANG BANGER #2 takes a quick hit of cocaine from a bullet. He notices Ray staring at him. GANG BANGER #2 You want a bump, G? RAY I wouldn't be putting that shit up my nose. That came in in somebody's ass. It's like you're sniffin' ass. Maybe that's your thing, but it ain't mine. Ray pushes his bet to the center of the table. The shaky junkie folds. Willie tosses in some pills and turns to Gang Banger #2. WILLIE Looks like it's up to you, stinky ass sniffer. Glaring, Gang Banger #2 flips a big pill into the pot. CLAUDE Thorazine? Well, that's a little rich for my blood. He tosses down his cards. The shaky junkie attempts to light a cigarette. The match slips from his trembling fingers and falls into his lap. CLAUDE Damn fool gonna set this place on fire one of these days. Gang Banger #1 folds. It's back to Ray. RAY I got three stool softeners left. (to Gang Banger #2) That oughta be right up your alley. The remaining players match the pot. Gang Banger #2 reveals his cards. Willie frowns. Ray lays down his cards and victoriously sweeps his winnings into a paper cup. Across the room, Nurse Humphries enters with a tray of snacks. She, too, is showing the years. NURSE HUMPHRIES Who wants Jell-O? The magic word. The poker players join a stampede of oldsters in a clatter of canes, walkers and artificial limbs. Ray and Claude are left alone at the table. RAY Hey, where you going? We got money on the table here! Claude glances around to ensure that he's not overheard. CLAUDE You know, Ray, I've been chewing on what you said this afternoon. I think I got a plan. Ray gives Claude a long look. RAY Are you trying to tell me after all this time you finally have a plan for busting out of here? CLAUDE Shh! Is that so hard to believe? RAY Don't tell me, I don't want to hear it. It's probably all fucked up, anyway. CLAUDE You don't want to hear it, you don't want to hear it. There's no shame in that. RAY It's too late for plans. CLAUDE Never thought I'd hear Ray Gibson say that. Hell with you then. You'd only slow me down anyway. Ray turns away as Claude walks off. A DODDERING INMATE stands nearby slurping on Jell-O. His robe hangs open. RAY Hey, man, cover that shit up! Disgusted, Ray discards his own Jell-O. He pulls out his daddy's pocket watch and checks the time. The little mechanical tune nags at him. He snaps the lid shut and considers the watch resting in the palm of his hand. OMITTED Sequence omitted from original script. EXT. INFIRMARY -- NIGHT The building is dark. But then, through a first-floor window, we see the unmistakable orange glow of a fire. INT. INFIRMARY -- NIGHT An ALARM BLARES as the place fills with smoke. Wearing a robe and slippers, Nurse Humphries runs among the prisoners, helping them out the door. EXT. INFIRMARY -- NIGHT Coughing and disheveled, Ray emerges onto the lawn pushing Willie in the wheelchair. As other prisoners evacuate the building, Ray looks around for Claude, but he doesn't see him. Nurse Humphries takes a quick head count. NURSE HUMPHRIES Is everyone here? RAY Hey, where's Claude? I don't see Claude! NURSE HUMPHRIES Stay calm, Ray. We'll find him. Claude! Has anyone seen Claude? RAY He must still be in there. Grimly, Ray starts toward the burning infirmary. Nurse Humphries holds him back. NURSE HUMPHRIES Wait for the firemen! RAY It'll be too late. NURSE HUMPHRIES You can't go in there, Ray! You'll never make it! RAY I'm going in for him. He'd do the same for me. Ray shakes her off and runs up the steps, disappearing into the burning building. INT. INFIRMARY -- NIGHT Ray dodges flames as he presses into the inferno. EXT. INFIRMARY -- NIGHT Nurse Humphries, Willie and the rest of the inmates watch grimly as flames engulf the building. Nobody could survive this blaze. From the highway comes the siren wail of approaching fire engines. But it's too late. Sparks erupt into the night sky as the roof collapses... EXT. INFIRMARY -- DAWN Fire trucks pull away from the smoldering ruins. A local REPORTER interviews witnesses. INVESTIGATORS comb through the wreckage, making notes. COUNTY CORONERS pull a couple of gurneys from the back of their van. EXT. INFIRMARY RUINS -- DAY Superintendent Bill Burke is led through the destruction by a FIRE INSPECTOR. They approach the coroners as they finish zipping up two body bags. BURKE How did it start? FIRE INSPECTOR Probably old wires. The place was a tinderbox just waiting to go. BURKE I guess we should have torn this old building down a long time ago. FIRE INSPECTOR Gibson made it this far before he was probably overcome by smoke. From the look of things, Banks never even made it out of bed. Burke watches solemnly as the coroners wheel the bodies past him. EXT. PRISON CEMETERY -- DAY Jake and Leon shake their heads and look at the two fresh graves. LEON Man, you really bummed me out. That's a terrible story. (looking at Jake) Nigger, you crying? JAKE Hell, no! I just got something in my eye. WILLIE It's alright for a man to cry once in awhile. Just don't make a habit of it. LEON Hey, Willie, what was Claude's plan, anyway? WILLIE Nothing to it, really. Claude figured they could steal a couple of bodies from the morgue. They got a couple of crackers working there don't know their asses from their elbows. Then they was gonna set fire to the infirmary and make it look like those bodies was them that got stuck inside. Claude figured during the commotion, it wouldn't be too hard to slip onto one of the fire trucks and hang tight until it rolled right on out of here in the morning. The young inmates share a look, then glance into the graves, then look back at Willie. JAKE What makes you think it didn't work? WILLIE I never said it didn't work. Leon and Jake do the arithmetic. You can almost hear the gears grinding under the strain. LEON You trying to tell us that's not Ray and Claude in those boxes? Willie starts to chuckle and sets his electric wheel chair on auto-pilot, leaving the young inmates to guess at the truth. JAKE What do you think about that? LEON I think that old man lost his marbles about a hundred years ago. Come on, let's get this over with. They pick up their shovels and go back to work burying the caskets. INT. GREENVILLE FIRE STATION -- DAY The CAMERA MOVES PAST a FIREMAN hosing down the truck, past another group of soot-stained FIREMEN eating breakfast, and pauses in front of two lockers. A couple of FIREMEN emerge from the showers wrapped in towels and open their lockers. They share a look. FIREMAN #1 (to the room) Alright, which of you hambones took our clothes? EXT. YANKEE STADIUM -- DAY -- WIDE SHOT Scalpers sell tickets. Vendors hawk souvenirs. Fans stream up from the subway and through the gates. Somebody is singing "The Star-Spangled Banner." EXT. STANDS -- DAY In the middle of a capacity crowd, a VENDOR fixes two hot dogs and passes them to a KID at the end of an aisle. The kid passes them to the MAN next to him, and so on down the line. The CAMERA FOLLOWS the hot dogs from face to face, some old, some young, some black, some white -- it's New York City, after all -- and finally the hot dogs arrive in a pair of old, calloused black hands. Ray passes one of the dogs to Claude. CLAUDE I can't eat this. RAY Why the hell not? CLAUDE I saw that hot dog guy in the bathroom urinating. He didn't wash his hands. Ray and Claude glance around confused as the wave rolls through their section of the bleachers. What the fuck? Claude inspects his hot dog. RAY Just put some mustard on it and eat it. CLAUDE You didn't get ketchup? RAY Gimme that damn thing. Ray snatches back the hot dog. CLAUDE What am I gonna eat? Ray is suddenly young again. RAY Have my ice cream. Claude takes the ice cream. He, too, is suddenly young again. CLAUDE Thanks. They look at each other and share a laugh. RAY Hell of a day for a ballgame, huh, Claude? CLAUDE Hell of a day, Ray. Yankees are on fire. Claude pops the top on his ice cream. Suddenly, they are both old again. CLAUDE No, this ain't gonna work either. It's half chocolate, half vanilla. RAY So? CLAUDE They're touching. The CAMERA begins to pull back. RAY If you don't eat that ice cream right now, I'm gonna strangle you until you are completely dead. CLAUDE Yeah? You and what army? RAY Next thing, you're gonna be complaining about the seats. CLAUDE Well, if you must know, they could be closer. RAY Damn, I shoulda let Spanky Johnson drown you in the river when I had the chance. "Pipe downs" etc. from the people around them. CLAUDE (glancing around) I know you're not talking to me... RAY I'm sorry, he's on medication... The CAMERA PULLS BACK as the arguing continues, just like the old days. MUSIC UP. THE END