The Fishkill

Today, something different - An excerpt from a screenplay by F.W. Belland and Alan H. Bush - The Fishkill

Log Line - A boy’s unconditional love for his alcoholic, widowed father, a war hero, takes him into an adult world. They confront authority and nature in a small coastal fishing village. Father and son find redemption in the legend of the Fishkill.

This story is the Anti-Avatar - all story and not one special effect-

THE FISHKILL
FADE IN:
EXT. SMALL FLORIDA FISHING VILLAGE - ESTABLISHING - DAY -
(1952)
EXT. HARBOR - DAY
In the distance, a vessel exits the harbor.
SERIES OF SHOTS
Nearing a navigation buoy, four figures and a dog crowd the
upper steering platform.
The tired thirty-five foot, wooden work-boat cruises through
mangrove-covered islands.
The EXHAUST WARBLES as the stern dips gently up and down in
the sea. Blue exhaust smoke clears; the stern of the boat
reveals the name "Galilee."
BING, a fair-haired boy of eleven, looks at BEN CURRY
(PAPADAD) - a large, unshaven, ruggedly handsome, dark-haired
man about thirty-five.
The bow glides into the shallows and the anchor splashes in
the water.
EXT. SEBASTIAN ISLAND - UNDERBRUSH - DAY
A wild-looking black man, wearing a tattered straw hat and
dripping pints of sweat, UNCLE HARRIS pounds a trash lid with
a rusted iron pipe.
UNCLE HARRIS
(loudly)
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
He bursts through the underbrush followed by NAIL, a red,
smooth-coated hound of mixed-breeding.
ITCHY GEORGE, a gangly, sunburned fellow of twenty-two hangs
on the end of a tattered rope. George leans back resisting
Nail's exuberance.
CLEARING
A majestic buck with a mature rack of antlers stands grazing.
The buck stops eating, looks up.
ABANDONED CISTERN
Sitting on an olive-drab military blanket, Bing loads the
gun. Papadad helps Bing lock the barrels.
CLEARING
The buck shows his first signs of apprehension as he moves
forward cautiously. His white tail raised in alarm, he stops
and stands totally still listening to the BAYING and FAINT
METALLIC BANGING in the DISTANCE.
ISLAND
Nail follows the trail, yapping in anticipation. Itchy
George releases her and she's off in pursuit.
CLEARING
The buck moves away from the METALLIC SOUNDS at a trot.
CISTERN
Papadad places a piece of army blanket on the crumbling wall
and lays the gun across it. He looks toward the dune where
the SOUNDS of the BEATERS comes ever closer.
PAPADAD
Shoo, boy. This is going to be
almost too easy.
ISLAND
The NOISE of the BEATERS nears. The buck, in a panic, runs
south toward the end of Sebastian Island.
2.
CLEARING
Nail, at the spot where the deer stood, eagerly pursues the
scent.
ISLAND
The deer crashes through saw palmettoes.
CISTERN
Papadad physically positions Bing and puts the gun in his
hands. Bing focuses on the path and the dune beyond.
Bing blinks a few times in anticipation.
Papadad, close behind.
PAPADAD
(sotto)
He's going to stop before he
gets to the channel and think
a spell.
The SOUND of the BEATERS now LOUDER.
ISLAND
The path ahead of the deer widens, and as he moves into the
open, he stops.
The deer stands next to the dune, scanning the open terrain
leading to the beach and other islands in the chain.
The buck stands statue-still, sniffing and watching.
Nail's BARKING AND YAPPING gets ever closer. The deer
cautiously moves forward into the kill zone, a clearing.
CISTERN
Bing moves the sight blade between the twin bores to follow
the forward shoulder of the buck.
Then, as Papadad had said it would, the deer stops.
3.
Papadad's hands now rest on Bing's shoulders.
PAPADAD
(sotto)
Easy, boy. Easy.
The buck's head raises and arches to the front. Its head
drops and the animal takes a step, and another, toward the
channel. He stops again.
PAPADAD
(sotto)
Now, son.
Bing grasps the side hammers and draws them back. The CLICKS
SOUND LOUD but the buck remains motionless. Bing aligns the
deer in his sight.
ISLAND
The deer's shoulder, neck and head.
CISTERN
PAPADAD
(sotto with
urgency)
Shoot, boy. Shoot!
The muzzle of the gun elevates toward the sky as BOTH BARRELS
FIRE: BANG! BANG!
The recoil knocks Bing into his father and they fall to the
cistern's floor.
Papadad struggles mightily to get up and jumps to his feet.
ISLAND
SERIES OF SHOTS
The deer leaps in a high arc propelling him halfway across
the channel. He lands, hooves flailing the water, head and
rack high, and scrambles through the shallows to the far
bank. He disappears into the mangrove thicket like a ghost.
Papadad, eyes on where the deer was, pulls off his rag hat
and slaps it against the side of his leg in frustration.
4.
Nail breaks into the clearing racing to the edge of the
channel.
Her nose searches to her right and left for the scent on the
beach. Panting hard, she sits on her tucked tail at the
water's edge and yowls mournfully.
She focuses on the mangrove-covered island across the
channel.
Itchy George and Uncle Harris come trotting across the
clearing more winded than the mutt, looking lost.
They stop to get their breath and then walk slowly to Bing
and Papadad.
ITCHY GEORGE
Well?
There's an uncomfortable silence.
BING
It's my fault.
Uncle Harris stands quietly with Nail, viewing everything
with detachment. Itchy George stares down on Bing.
ITCHY GEORGE
You missed? From here?
Itchy George turns and looks, reconstructing the shot Bing
must have had. He takes off his rag hat, scratches his head
and turns to Bing:
ITCHY GEORGE
Boy, nobody could miss from here.
BING
(sotto)
I did.
ITCHY GEORGE
(rubbing his belly)
Boy, we run that deer a mile and
a half through the woods to this
narrow neck. You must have got
a piece... I heard both
barrels.
Bing looks down at his shoes. Itchy George slaps his rag hat
violently against his leg modeling Papadad's frustration.
5.
PAPADAD
Bing's man enough to shoot;
he's man enough to miss. Whatever
the reason.
ITCHY GEORGE
Only one reason you miss that
shot.
Itchy George circles Bing in a predatory manner.
PAPADAD
Bing said he was sorry.
ITCHY GEORGE
If I missed that shot, my Pa'd
beat me good.
Papadad turns to face Itchy George.
PAPADAD
Itchy, I see your lips flappin'.
ITCHY GEORGE
If you're gone soft from bein' all
head shot in the war, I can do it.
Ben glares at Itchy.
PAPADAD
You lay one finger on my
son...
ITCHY GEORGE
(focuses on Ben)
Then I'll whip your crippled
ass first.
Itchy George starts toward Papadad, his arms wide.
Papadad stands his ground.
Bing calmly breaks open the shotgun's barrels, pulls out a
discharged shell and drops a fresh one into the chamber. He
CLICKS the SHOTGUN CLOSED.
Itchy hesitates, then stops.
ITCHY GEORGE
(focuses on Bing)
Boy?
PAPADAD
Easy there, old Bing.
6.
BING
No one hurts my Pa.
UNCLE HARRIS
Careful, boy.
PAPADAD
Itchy's just bein' itchy.
Bing relaxes for a split second.
Itchy smiles and starts forward.
Bing doesn't hesitate. He pulls the left hammer with a LOUD
CLICK and points the gun at Itchy's belly.
BING
I won't miss... twice.
Itchy stops in his tracks but he doesn't back off. He can't
look Bing down so he turns his head for Papadad to intervene.
PAPADAD
I think he means it.
Itchy looks to Uncle Harris.
UNCLE HARRIS
Now don't you be so hard on the
boy, George. Everybody musses up
sometimes.
Itchy looks at Papadad.
PAPADAD
I think you better apologize.
He looks at Bing.

If you would like to read The Fishkill contact me at alanhbush@earthlink.net

The Fishkill has been a top-ten finalist two years in a row in the drama division of the Page International screenplay competitions. Each year there have been more than 1,000 dramas enterred.