Blackthorne--Episode 90

image from pinterest.com

Blackthorne

Cinemagenic Ninety

Second Wind

“Never give in. Never. Never. Never.”

--Winston Churchill.

1(two-shot) Cut to edge of town. Buck mounted on 

his tall red, and Johnny Eagle on his muscular silver.

2(sound cue) in the distance, music from the dance

band still escaping from the Grange Hall.

3(medium close-up) Buck; flashback. 

4(wide two-shot) Salina was watching the dancers. 

Buck was tucking his shirt into his pants. They walked 

over to the weapons table.

Buck: Do you want to stick around?

Salina: Christ, no--I’ve seen the elephant.

Buck strapped on his guns. 

5(tracking shot to the door) She grabbed his arm, and

tugged him toward the door. 

Salina: Well, big guy, the piss is in the pickle barrel 

now.

Buck: Yup, it might could be.

Wallace and Johnny waited for them at the open doors.

6(cut to exterior) as the quartet walk out onto the porch.

7(two-shot) Buck, over Salina’s shoulder: Sorry about

the ruckus--but Thor didn’t give me much choice.

Salina: Rod, you have nothing to apologize for.” 

Wallace: Seems to me that it’s Thor who is the sorry

sonofabitch in this affair.

Salina took her father’s arm. You sure know how to 

show a girl a good time. She kissed Buck on the 

cheek. Dad will walk me home. You boys try to stay

out of trouble

8(cut back to the edge of town; the two shot) in the

present.

Johnny: Let’s ride, boss.

9( cut to day-for-night--overhead drone and ride-bys)

Buck and the Eagle rode miles in silence, galloping

through the moonlight, the white stallion matching

the strides of the long-limbed strawberry roan. 

10(sound cue) mandolin and cello over rapid

hoofbeats.

Then they cantered, trotted and walked. The horse’s

hooves found pebbles to clank on, their breath

was visible in the crisp night air. as was a mist

from their muscles.

11( medium two-shot, slow tracking)

Johnny: I fear we may have crapped in our own

straw. I doubt that Bronson will still be in the

mood to listen to your plans now. 

Buck: He’s a businessman first, and a big

brother second. He’s greedy enough, and clever

enough, to overlook this latest entanglement.

I’m not going to worry about it.

Johnny: Remember, he sent men out to kill you

after your run-in with Paulie.

Buck: Uh-huh--I figure there will be some killing

done before this is all over. 

As the horses picked their way through the

deep shadows, the Eagle stared up at the night

sky: The moon dances Wovoka.

12(sound cue) Indian branch flute.

Buck: To scare away the white eyes, and bring 

back the buffalo. You know, I was a pretty good

runner--it wasn’t a bad life.

Johnny, out of the ether: Men like you also killed

a lot of Indians.

Buck: The sea of hair is mostly gone, but the

Indians are still here.

Johnny: No, not really. It’s men like me that are

still here, men with blue eyes and white hearts,

wearing cowboy boots and denim shirts.

Buck, searching for levity: Hey, I never even met

your mother.

Johnny: We both know that you have had squaws--

so a man like you did.

Buck: Damn, son, I thank that man. You are a prince

and a warrior in both worlds, red and white, and I

need your great strength and wisdom in both of them.

Johnny: We will chase your dreams, and fight your

demons together!

They spurred their rested steeds back to a gallop,

rushing toward the ranch. Bats and barn owls heard

them coming from a half-mile out.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub OLN