Blackthorne--Episode 85

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Blackthorne

Cinemagenic Eighty-Five

Dosado

“That’s the way God made her--sunshine mixed

with a little hurricane.”--Country song lyrics.

1(medium wide-shot) They stopped at the foot of

the Grange steps. Chatawa was tied next to Thor’s

black. The Appaloosa whinied, and his eyes calmed 

when he recognized Buck. Salina climbed up the

few stairs, her petticoats rustling, and sat on the top

step. She folded her gloved hands on her lap and

waited. Buck stroked the stallion’s neck.

2(sound cue) musical tumult emitting from inside.

3(close-up) Salina, around a small smile: Is that

the horse people say Bronson stole from you?,

admiring both the horse and the man before her.

4(two shot) Buck: More or less. We call him 

Chatawa.

Salina: I think that’s Paulie’s saddle. I’m surprised

he would ride a horse like that.

Buck: Yeah, me too.

He walked up to her, forcing a grin. She stood up.

He held out his elbow, and motioned to the door

with his other hand. Salina placed her arm in his,

twirled around, and they entered the open doors.

5(cut to a reverse shot) as they entered the Grange.

Next to the entrance was a long table loaded with

pistols, rifles and knives.

6(most of the shots for this interior will be done

with a steadicam).

An older woman with rosy cheeks and a flowered

dress was checking the weapons.

7(sound cue) music and crowd noise heightened.

8(three-shot) Salina: Good evening, Mrs. Hart.

Mrs. Hart: Hello, Salina. Don’t you look lovely?

Would your gentleman friend please check his

weapons?

Buck unbuckled his gun belt and plunked the 

Thunderer and the sawed off shotgun down with

the rest of the deadly iron.

9(jump cut close-up) of the big stack of guns.

Buck check his hat with the lady too.

10(overhead crane wide-shot) Inside the large

barn-like hall, a huge knot of people churned

all over the floor, and lined the sides.

11(close up) Buck’s eyes.

12(medium wide shot) He saw Joe Hop first.

The sheriff sat on the edge of a hastily erected

bandstand.

13(medium close-up) Hop’s blue eyes sparkled.

He was hatless, like most of the men in the room;

his sleeves were rolled up on his denim shirt, and

his big arms were folded across his chest. He was 

still wearing his handgun, and the holster was tied

down. His sheriff’s badge glinted in the light.

14(cut to a wide shot) His deputy stood across the

room, leaning against a post; tall and shy, his wide

shoulders and thin arms comfortable. He, too, wore

his pistol. 

15(tighten the shot) The bandstand platform stood

at the far end of the room. Bales of pungent dusty

hay sat to each side of it for decoration. Barrels,

boxes, benches and chairs were occupied by folks

down both sides of the room to the front door. 

Kerosene lanterns hung hot by the dozens.

16(dolly toward the bandstand) A lean red-headed

farmer in a brown plaid shirt, wearing a bright red

neckerchief, called the dances. He was middle-

aged, and his damp hair hung on his forehead. He

had a large Adam’s apple that bobbed up and down

as he growled out the steps: Heel, toe and dosey-doe.

 17(tighten the shot) There were four musicians on

the platform behind him. Three older men and a boy.

A tossle-haired blond kid in bibbed overalls, and no

shoes, playing an accordion. A bearded older man

played the fiddle. A short fat man played the banjo,

and a very tall reed thin man played the harmonica.

18(cut to medium two-shot) Buck and Salina were

clapping their hands, while others who could not, or

would not dance, stamped their boots to the tempo.

19(jump cut roving the room) dancers whirling, hands

clapping, feet tapping.

20(sound cue) loud music, whooping, stomping, 

whistling and wahooing.

21(cut to a medium wide shot) To the right of the 

bandstand was a waist-high table covered with a

linen tablecloth, and in the middle of it sat a fancy

bowl of moss green punch. Behind it stood Henry

Wallace and Johnny Eagle, as servers. Wallace

was talking excitedly, using his hands, holding

Johnny’s attention. Henry wore an old black suit,

and it still fit him well.

22(cut to close-up) Buck’s face, looking to his left.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub OL