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“My life is triage.”--Andrew Vachss.
1(sound cue) violin and branch flute.
2(tight two-shot) Buck: I have never seen
such courage, old one; touching the Indian’s
Johnny looked up, moving his head
slowly, painfully. You are wounded...don’t
worry about me. Muerto waits.
Buck: It is nothing, a flesh wound...but they
have shot you to pieces.
3(sound cue) seed rattle & cello.
Johnny: I see it again.
Buck: See what again? as he gently wrapped his
arms around the Eagle’s quivering shoulders .
4(close-up) Johnny: El Blanco.
5(voice over) Buck: Where?
6(sound cue) coronet over buffalo hooves.
7(cut to a wide shot) the great albino bull bison,
alone on a bluff. As the men speak in voice over,
the camera dollys quickly toward the animal,
halting with a close up of its eyes.
Johnny: When I close my eyes, there he is,
my totem. The biggest buffalo I have ever seen.
He stands on a knoll and watches me.
Buck: And he is all white ?
Johnny: As white as a bank of dirty snow, with
small pink eyes and black horns. I think, I fear,
he waits for me.
8(close up) Buck: He waits for us all, my
brother. Rest now...we will get a doctor for your
9(three shot) I’ll go, Salina said, suddenly standing
beside him. Buck rose, wiped the blood from his
eyes, put his hands on his guns, watching the
ranch house crash in on itself, his mother’s room
and his mother, gone forever. He pulled his
hunting knife from its sheath, and handed it to
Salina, handle first.
Buck: Cut your palomino loose, girl. There isn’t
any other available horseflesh.
Salina: These bastards, her small right
hand waving over the many bodies, must
have rode up here on something!
Buck: Their broncs will be picketed and
hidden. I’ll find them later.
10(medium wide shot) Salina cut her palomino
gelding loose. She grabbed a handful of thick
mane, and swung up on its back. Buck squatted
down next to Johnny.
11(sound cue) French horn, guitar and castanets
12(overhead traveling drone shot) Salina jerked
the horse North toward town, kicking its golden
flanks all the way past the great gray boulder,
her skirt and hair, and the horses tail flying in
the wake of the hard gallop.
13(cut back to two-shot) Johnny stared glassy-
eyed at the inferno in front of him. The grand
rancho tumbling into embers and ash--and he
looked beyond, to the evening sky, also on fire
as the sun of blood smeared across the prairie’s
rim behind the house, fleeing west from the
fists of darkness pressing against it. A blood
moon made its entrance.
14(sound cue) piano & violins.
Johnny, with his cheeks wet with tears: My Buck.
Johnny: It hurts.
Buck: I know, compardre, I know.
Johnny: Not my wounds, no, they are numb. The
pain is in my heart as I watch all your dreams and
hard work go up in owlhoot smoke.
Buck, one tear rolling down his blood-stained cheek:
They are loco if they think this defeats us. Hell, no.
Together, we will dream new dreams, better dreams.
Johnny: Uh-huh, together, new dreams.
Buck held him in his arms in silence.
But for now, let me treat some of these holes in
your tough hide.
Johnny: Yes, go. I will be right here when you
Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub OLN