FADE IN:
EXT. WADE'S HOUSE - NIGHT - ESTABLISHING
A house on the water. A traditional Cape Cod. Big and old. Water glistens
and reflects against it. From an upstairs window, the glow of a television
bounces off drapes that blow gently in the cool, summer night.
INT. WADE'S ROOM - NIGHT
WADE, 15 years old, and slightly wise beyond his years, paces the room, a
bundle of mental anguish. His friend RICKY sits on the bed.
RICKY
No matter how much you wear out that carpet, my friend, at some point you are
going to have to sit down and accept it.
WADE
Accept it. I'm supposed to just graciously accept the loss of the love of my
life. Not to mention my best friend, my confidante of fifteen years. I can't
do that.
RICKY
Well, do something already. I'm exhausted just watching you. Look, why don't
you write something or something. Isn't that the appropriate angst-filled
artist reaction?
WADE
You're not helping.
RICKY
Sammy's the helpful one. I just sit on the sidelines and make wisecrack
remarks to compensate for my own relative inadequacy.
WADE
No offense, Ricky, but I think I need to be alone right now.
RICKY
No problem. You do your creative catharsis thing, and I'll...well, I'll find
something to do. See ya, Wade.
Ricky leaves. Wade, a bit doubtful, sighs, and approaches his computer. He
tries to write. Starts typing, erases. Starts again, erases. It's not
working. He pushes away from his desk, grabs his jacket, and takes off.
EXT. PLAYGROUND - DAY
It's a chilly day in this creekside town in late November. Wade walks alone
through the abandoned playground, and ultimately sits down on a swing facing
a sandbox. As he looks at the sandbox, he seems to remember... or imagine
something.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. SANDBOX - DAY
Two small children, BABY WADE, and BABY SAMMY, play in a sandbox. They
playfully swat sand at each other. We hear a VOICE-OVER. It's WADE.
WADE (V.O.)
I guess you could say Sammy and I have known each other for as long as we
could possibly remember. Longer, actually. Sammy and I... We're almost like
soulmates, intrinsically destined since time immemorial, unalterably fated
to connect again and again through time, if you believe in that sort of
thing. I don't know whether or not I believe in destiny, but I do believe,
that no matter what fate throws in our paths, there will always be Wade and
Sammy. It's the closest thing to an ineluctable forever that I have ever
known.
Baby Sammy and Baby Wade continue to play in the sandbox. Then they stop,
and just look at each other. Two adult voices comment on the children.
MAN (V.O.)
Look at how well they get along. They can't get enough of each other.
WOMAN (V.O.)
Are they playing or are they fighting?
MAN (V.O.)
They're crazy about each other. It's obvious. You can tell by the way
they're looking at each other.
WOMAN (V.O.)
Come on... they don't know how to be crazy about each other. Their whole
universe is that sandbox at this moment. Maybe they're totally terrified of
each other, paralyzed by fear. Look at how they're staring.
MAN (V.O.)
You're overanalyzing them. They're both just waiting for the other one to
make the first move.
WOMAN (V.O.)
Waiting for each other, huh? Well, that's not likely to get you anywhere...
And as the two children continue to stare at each other, we...
FADE OUT.
EXT. WADE'S HOUSE - LATE DAY
WADE (V.O.)
If I were half the artist I proclaimed myself to be, I would seize upon this
as an opportunity to generate a well-written, erudite, structurally sound
piece of literature containing the traditional story elements -- that is,
beginning - middle - end, or rather, essentially, a premise, a climax, a
denoument... but that doesn't really apply in this situation. When a
relationship outlives time, outlives space, all you have... are the
moments...
CU on Wade, thoughtful...
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. WADE'S ROOM - LATE DAY
8 YEAR-OLD WADE sits on his bed, watching JAWS. 8 YEAR-OLD SAMMY appears in
the window.
8 YEAR OLD WADE
Hey...how'd you get up there?
8 YEAR OLD SAMMY
There's a ladder. Your dad was painting. I climbed up.
8 YEAR OLD WADE
Well, you can come in, if you want. I'm watching "Jaws."
8 YEAR OLD SAMMY
A bunch of mentally deficient beach bumbs get eaten by a shark? Please. That
movie is like, so five minutes ago.
8 YEAR OLD WADE
No way. This movie's awesome. This guy named Spielberg directed it. You know
what else he directed?
8 YEAR OLD SAMMY
I have a feeling you're going to tell me.
8 YEAR OLD WADE
Raiders of the Lost Ark. And E.T. You're not gonna say you don't like E.T.,
are you?
8 YEAR OLD SAMMY
Duh, that's like, a classic.
8 YEAR OLD WADE
Yeah, so, will you give Jaws a chance?
8 YEAR OLD SAMMY
Maybe. Is it really scary?
8 YEAR OLD WADE
I won't let you get scared.
A long look between them.
8 YEAR OLD SAMMY
Well... okay, I guess. Can I sleep over?
8 YEAR OLD WADE
Sure... why not? over?
And off the t.v., we...
FADE OUT.
FADE IN.
EXT. PLAYGROUND - LATE DAY
It's getting dark. Wade rises from the swing, and heads home.
EXT. CREEKSIDE STREET - DUSK - CONTINUOUS
Music plays as Wade passes by a VIDEO STORE. He becomes thoughtful again...
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. WADE'S ROOM - NIGHT
Wade is now about 11. He sits on his floor playing Nintendo. Sammy, the same
age, appears at the window. She looks upset.
11 YEAR-OLD WADE
Hey Sammy. What are you doing here? I mean, shouldn't you be with your
family?
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY
I had to get out of there, Wade. They were making it worse.
11 YEAR-OLD WADE
(genuinely)
Sammy... I'm really sorry... about your mom.
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY
So am I, Wade.
Wade gets up and sits down next to her.
11 YEAR-OLD WADE
How are Betty and your Dad doing?
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY
They're fighting again. I mean, they haven't even buried Mom yet and they're
fighting... I think...
She struggles, trying to keep her composure.
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY (cont'd)
I think my dad's going to jail.
11 YEAR-OLD WADE
Your dad's not going to jail. They don't send people to jail for having
affairs.
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY
(bitter)
They should.
11 YEAR-OLD WADE
C'mon...
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY
Who would take care of me, Wade?
11 YEAR-OLD WADE
He's not going to jail...
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY
Humor me.
11 YEAR-OLD WADE
Well, I guess Betty would.
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY
Please. Like I'd ever submit to being raised by a provincial teenager who
doesn't do anything but talk on the phone to her mindless friends and go out
with her lunkhead boyfriend, who'll probably get her knocked up before she
graduates high school so she can spend her life having babies and waitressing
at some restaurant like the Fish House or something...
11 YEAR-OLD WADE
Well...then I guess...I'd take care of you.
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY
You would?
11 YEAR-OLD WADE
Yeah...sure... (quoting "E.T.") "I'll be right heeeeere."
They touch fingers.
11 YEAR-OLD WADE (cont'd)
C'mon. You wanna play "Jaws?"
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY
Okay.
They go into Wade's closet, and begin reciting the dialogue from "Jaws"...
FROM BEHIND CLOSED DOORS --
11 YEAR-OLD WADE (O.S.)
Stop playing with yourself, Hooper!
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY (O.S.)
That's a twenty-footer.
11 YEAR-OLD WADE (O.S.)
Twenty-five. Three tons of him.
11 YEAR-OLD SAMMY (O.S.)
We're gonna need a bigger boat.
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