Amazon Studios and my Project 'A Matter of Survival'

During the month of May. I started getting an idea for a screenplay. Now most of my writing has usually been in book form or done for my proposed TV series, 'The Timmons Chronicles.' But this idea gelled so fast in my head in May that I decided to turn it into a screenplay. I wrote the first draft over one weekend, hand-written, no less, because well, my computer was stolen, and over the next weekend I wrote a second draft. Then over the next two weeks I used the library computers at Wake Tech to enter my script using Scripped.com. (url: http://scripped.com/script/view/187217/mlgLRW7RC9ezjLQd7Vbkiz3yD15yYZpSTA2aOqZ15ljwjE7fgU)
Then I spent some proofing it.
Then a little more time.
Then I liked what I had written so far so much that I went to Amazon Studios and submitted it to see if they would option it.
Then I waited.
And Waited.
Then after two weeks, I checked the status of the script and found that they weren't even considering it. At first I wondered why, then I found that there was a screenplay with the same title in their listings. It was originally titled 'Soul Survivor.' So I changed the title and resubmitted it. This time I followed the status of the script a little closer. It went from 'received' to 'reading' and now it is in the 'Deciding' part of the process.
This is the hardest part for any writer: the waiting to see if someone in charge likes what you've written. Now, I haven't been idle all this time. I've been working on a new draft of the script. But every time I submitted a new draft, it would have given Amazon Studios another 45 days to look at the script to see if they wanted to option it. What I originally submitted has every important aspect of the script. If they like the concept enough to option it, I shouldn't have to submit changes to get their attention.

So now the waiting continues.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Life Update: Writing, Teething, and Computering, Oh My!

It's been a while since I posted any kind of update on what's going on in my life, so here goes:

I recently finished the START Hospitality course at Wake Tech. That course included getting certificates in ServSafe (passed), National Career Readiness Certificate (NCRC) Gold in all three specialties. (Still trying to determine who actually pays attention to that), TIPS Certification (Training for Intervention Something something... to help someone in the Food and Beverage industry determine when someone has had enough to drink), certification in the OPERA Property Management System used by Holiday Inn and other facilities. Used at the Front Desk. And finally the actual certificate for completing the program. I'm ideally looking for Front Desk or Night Auditor. I have had no luck so far. They claim 70% of the graduates get jobs, but I think most of those start out in the banquet or Food Service part and work their way up. However with my injuries, I can't handle banquets and other Food Service jobs, so I'll stick with what I can do.

And speaking of injuries, no real change in my shoulder or knee has occurred in months. They are both mildly disabling. I can't life things reliably. I can't run, therefore I can't move quickly enough for Food Service. I can walk easily enough most of the time, but every now and then my knee let's me know something is wrong, and I limp.

I have been in touch with Vocational Rehab and they have moved at a snail's pace, claiming they didn't get the information they needed. They have agreed to do two things: Get my teeth yanked (though I don't know when) and to pay for certification courses that will mean I'm qualified for a Network Administrator position. Entry level, if such a thing exists. But I will get A+ certified, Network+ and hopefully Security+ and Cisco certified. We'll see how well that goes.

I started writing a screenplay based on idea that's been prowling through my head for the last few weeks. The first draft took me 3 days. It's hand-written, and certainly needs work, but it was nice to finish something for a change. I also started on a novel form of the story. It's a techno/sci fi/thriller. It creeps me out and I'm the one who wrote it. It's called 'Soul Survivor.' I'll post more on that as I get it put into a computer. I'm quite happy with the plot, it just needs to be fleshed out a little.

The last bit of news has to do with the computer that was stolen from me in January. I heard rumors that a certain person might have it back in February, but it wasn't enough to take to the police. In March, a friend came to me and told me he knew who had it, and the guy was willing to sell it back to me for $80. It took me a while to raise $80, but when I did, the guy then said he left it at his girlfriend's place and they're not talking any more. I gave him a week to get his stuff together, and haven't heard back from him. So yesterday I filed a new report with the Raleigh PD, telling them what I know and suspect, including the guy's phone number. I'm keeping my $80. If the guy gets arrested for it, and his girl too, well, he brought it on himself. He had ample opportunity to return it to me.

Writing Screenplays About Family

Okay the revolution within my body has been quelled for the most part, though I am experiencing pain still both on the chest and the shoulder. I am better able to concentrate on my writing.

I am attempting to write a screenplay based on events of my past, basically following me from ages 1 to 10, when I had issues knowing who I was and getting teased relentlessly by a group of girls.

My question today, though, is has anyone written such a script, and did you have to change the names to protect family members? Part of me wants to not change names, and part of me is worried about getting sued by family members who are not portrayed in the best light (but are portrayed honestly).

Should embarrassing yet entertaining bits be left out? Should I present my mother the way I saw her, risking drawing the ire of my entire family? Should I write it as fiction and not mention that events are based on something that actually happened?

And the biggest question of all: Can I get help writing it? If you have screenwriting experience, I need your help. I'm so close to the story that I have had trouble writing it for the last 20 years. So I need someone who's concern will be to listen to my ideas and stories and put them into a coherent script. I'd share credit.

I'm almost tempted to write it in the form of a book first, that way I can get the story on my computer, but I'm afraid I can't even do that.

*Sigh* It's a good story too, full of child-like wonder, imagination, and a family that, looking back on it, would leave the rest of the planet in stitches.

Well, that's all for today. Leave a comment if you're interested in helping, or send an email to mike.fox.wow at gmail.com.

Suggestions for Jobs

Since posting my resume, I've received several suggestions on what kind of job I should apply for.
I know what my background suggests. I know that I do not have any legitimate writing experience save my books, my blogs and my screenplays.
I know that my background suggests I stay in tech support. I'm sick to death of phone work. I may be willing to take tech support work if I can work using strictly email or even IM. Sadly, those jobs are few and far between, and are usually outsourced because you can't hear an accent over email or over IM!
So I'm back to what I want to do, which is write. I could take those kinds of jobs I hate, but I'm not that desperate yet. Those kinds of jobs will be around when I am desperate, because they have a high turnover rate, which might lead one to think they aren't the best jobs in the world.
Yet, they are jobs, and if it comes down to it, I'll take one, but I need a break.
So I continue my writing binge. I'm working on scripts, novels, and yes, resumes! I'm working on applying for jobs. I'm working on surviving in a homeless shelter where respect and privacy simply don't exist. I'm not going to complain about it, anymore.  People seem to think I'm ungrateful. So you will hear no more about how bad it is, except to compare it to life in the streets, which is infinitely worse.
So the saga continues, and until something positive happens, you probably won't hear from me!

Writing and the long wait

I've been writing off and on since 1996. Sometimes I can't stop myself from writing, and that's a good thing in most cases. The problem is when I'm doing that, I'm usually writing it by hand instead of using the computer. I have a couple of notebooks filled with scripts for episodes from my would-be TV series, and a year after I finished them, I'm just now getting to the point where I'm typing them into a computer.
I blame Warcraft for that. I got stuck into the same loop I always do when things get somewhat comfortable, and play games.
Now that things aren't so comfortable, I'm back to the point where I'm writing again, and trying to get serious about it. Now, however, I have my laptop again, and can comfortably sit in a local library and type away, or check email, or check various web sites that I've found in my journey.
I can't afford Warcraft, so that particular distraction is gone, but sometimes I get so tired of waiting to hear back from agents, or waiting to get a book review, or waiting to hear if my script is going to win a contest.
Unfortunately for writers who are not well known, this is the norm. I'd love to sit at a cafe all day, writing and sipping a cappuccino, but I'm broke, and the best I can do is to sit at the library, yes it's warm and comfortable, but I'm not comfortable, and that is what's driving my writing lately.
I wonder, given my history, if I need to be out of my comfort zone in order to write effectively.
I certainly hope not, because someday I'd like to make at least a tolerable living using this skill that, I feel, is the best skill I have, and more importantly, is the skill I feel most comfortable using.
Ah well, nothing to do but keep typing, keep hoping the story gets noticed. I do not want to be one of those authors appreciated more after he dies than when he was living.

Writing: The Timmons Chronicles: Acts I and II

Okay, fans of mine. I know there are a few out there. I've spent a great deal of time writing the Pilot to the Timmons Chronicles, and below you will find acts I and II. That's all that's TYPED at the moment. The rest and several more episodes are hand-written, waiting to be type in. In the meantime, enjoy!

The Timmons Chronicles

Pilot

By

Michael Harrison Fox

Act I
INT : TIMMONS LIVING ROOM - AFTERNOON
It is January 1, 1972. A birthday party is in progress for BOBBY TIMMONS, age 6. His friends, boys and girls, are celebrating with a game of pin the tail on the donkey, and the birthday boy has been blindfolded. His mother, LORIE TIMMONS, watches over the party.
After the party is over and Bobby has said goodbye to his friends, Lorie takes him by the hand and leads him to a door in the hallway.

LORIE

We have one more present for you, Bobby.

BOBBY

Oh great! What is it? That fire engine I wanted?

LORIE

Not exactly.

She opens the door and they see Bobby’s father, BRAD TIMMONS, and his grandfather, THE OLD MAN next to a strange-looking chair.

BOBBY

Hey, I already had my teeth checked. What gives?

Bobby pulls back slightly.

THE OLD MAN

Sedate him.

LORIE

I don’t like this. Bobby we’re going to give you the gift of knowledge.

BOBBY

(Hesitantly)

What does that mean? And that chair looks like the same one you use when you check my teeth.

LORIE

It is, sweetie, but I promise you’ll be okay. We’d never hurt you.

The Old Man glares at her. She sighs and takes a needle out of one pocket.

BOBBY

Ahh! You are going to hurt me!

Brad suddenly appears behind Bobby and sticks a needle into his butt. Bobby cries out then passes out.

LORIE

That wasn’t necessary.

They lift Bobby and take him into the room.
INT: CHAIR ROOM – AFTERNOON
They quickly lift Bobby into the chair and strap him in.

THE OLD MAN

This is for the better. He won’t move and be tense during the procedure.

LORIE

I still think this is the wrong time to do this, the wrong way. If something were to go wrong…

THE OLD MAN

We’ll cross that bridge, doctor. He needs to broaden his mind. He’s been too slack with his education as it is.

LORIE

He’s only just six!

THE OLD MAN

I had this done when I was his age. He’ll be fine.

LORIE

You were better prepared. You knew what was happening. He doesn’t!

THE OLD MAN

Enough. (Looks at Brad) Do the honors, please?

Brad moves to a console on the far side of the room. Lorie and The Old Man join him. A device drops from the ceiling, and lowers onto Bobby’s head. It looks like a colander but with spikes on the inside and out. When it reaches Bobby’s head, electricity begins to arc.

THE OLD MAN

Are you monitoring him, doctor?

LORIE

Of course. Pulse is up, EKG spiking, but not beyond tolerances. His brain waves are shooting off the scale.

THE OLD MAN

Within tolerances. Start knowledge feed.

The unit begins to hum and the arcing increases. Bobby tenses.

LORIE

That’s too fast. (Hears a beep) Wait, shut it down. Something’s wrong.

The arcing begins to subside and Lorie rushed to Bobby’s side. She pulls out a box and waves it in front of Bobby, whose eyes have glazed over.

LORIE

(Shakes her head)

Too late. There’s brain damage.

THE OLD MAN

He’s not brain dead is he?

LORIE

No, but he’s lost higher learning functions. I told you this was too dangerous.

BRAD

We could try it again, with less power.

THE OLD MAN

No. We’ll have to do this the slow and sure way. (He calls out) Rejuvenate him, to just before this started.

The device lifts up and Bobby is surrounded by a glow. After a few moments, the glow fades away. Lorie examines him and nods.

LORIE

Back to normal.

THE OLD MAN

Take him to bed. I’ll prepare his gift.

INT: BOBBY’S ROOM – MORNING
Bobby is sleeping soundly. On his bed appears a small glowing ball. Bobby stirs, then jumps to a sitting position.

BOBBY

W-what are you?

The ball beeps.

GUIDE

A question has been asked. I am your guide to knowledge. Please ask anything you like and I will answer.

Bobby rubs his eyes.

BOBBY

Am I dreaming?

GUIDE

Negative. (It beeps again) Do you wish to learn more about me?

Bobby nods.

GUIDE

Very well. Please place one of your hands on me.

BOBBY

(Hesitantly)

It’s not going to hurt is it.

GUIDE

Negative.

Bobby reaches a hand tentatively at the ball. As he begins to make contact blue spikes of electricity come out. Bobby jerks his hand back.

BOBBY

That didn’t hurt, but my head tingles.

GUIDE

That is knowledge passing through your hand to your brain. This is a low-level form of brain training.

Bobby reaches out again. Soon his head is surrounded by a blue field. His hair flies up. Bobby laughs.

BOBBY

This is fun!

INT: TIMMONS LIVING ROOM – MORNING
The Old Man, Lorie and Brad sit in a circle, concentrating intently.

LORIE

I can see no damage this time. I don’t see why you couldn’t do it this way the first time.

THE OLD MAN

Because it’s slow and it will take longer to tell him what he needs to know. I swear, I’d never thought of myself as being this slow.

Lorie covers her face with her palm.

BRAD

We couldn’t use the techniques you were trained under, It would draw too much suspicion. His mind and body weren’t ready for the shock, and you know it. He’s not slow.

THE OLD MAN

No, but he has been terribly average thus far. We’ll change that.

LORIE

He’ll have trouble coping. He’ll have changed but his friends, his teachers won’t.

THE OLD MAN

Well then we’ll have to guide him through it, won’t we?

Bobby comes running into the room, carrying his guide.

BOBBY

Mom! Dad! You’ll never guess what I got!

BRAD

Do you like your gift?

BOBBY

Oh yeah. It’s great!

BRAD

It’s from your grandfather.

Bobby runs to The Old Man and hugs him.

BOBBY

Thanks grandpa!

Bobby sees a pigeon on the balcony and runs to the door. He opens it, touches the ball.

BOBBY

Columba livia , they eat seeds, bread, (pauses) oh wait, they spread disease. Shoo!

Bobby flails until the pigeon flies away.

LORIE

That’s enough of that, young man. Leave the birds alone. I won’t let you get sick from a pigeon and they have as much right to be here as we do. I will not have you be cruel to animals.

BOBBY

But don’t we own this building? We can tell them to leave!

BRAD

The building has been here long before we bought it. Leave them alone son.

Bobby sighs.

BOBBY

Okay.

THE OLD MAN

I’m glad you like my gift, Bobby. But you must promise me something.

BOBBY

Anything!

THE OLD MAN

Promise me you’ll never tell anyone about it.

BOBBY

But why? This is a great thing!

THE OLD MAN

There’s only one like it in the whole world. And it’s yours. If you go around telling people about it, they may try to take it away from you.

Bobby clutches the ball closer.

LORIE

Don’t frighten him. (To Bobby) Just make sure you keep it hidden. (Turns to The Old Man) In more ways than one.

FADE OUT

INT: BOBBY’S ROOM – NIGHT
Bobby lies in bed, clutching his ball. The ball glows softly.

BOBBY

Why do they want me to hide you?

GUIDE

Because you and I are unique. There is no one quite like us in the whole world. People will be jealous, they’ll want one too. Or if you tell them about me, they may laugh at you, think you’re crazy.

BOBBY

But I’m not crazy. (Pause) Am I?

GUIDE

No, you’re not. But think about it. If before today someone told you they talked to a ball, what would you think?

BOBBY

(Nods) I’d think they were crazy. But couldn’t you talk to them? Let them know you’re real?

GUIDE

I can only talk to you. Go to sleep now, and I’ll try to explain it while you’re sleeping.

Bobby strokes the ball, closes his eyes, and falls asleep.

INT: BOBBY’S CLASSROOM – DAY
Bobby enters his classroom, which is typical for a kindergarten classroom of the era. He wears a backpack, which he places on his desk. Several of his friends come up to him.

JEREMY

Hey Bobby! What did you get for Christmas and your birthday?

BOBBY

Oh, lots of stuff: A fire truck, a baseball glove, and uh- a new ball.

JEREMY

Did you bring the glove and ball? We can play catch!

Bobby clutches his backpack.

BOBBY

Uh, no. It’s not a baseball, it’s like one of those magic eight balls, only it talks.

JEREMY

This I gotta see.

Bobby pulls the ball from his backpack and the growing crowd ‘oohs.’

JEREMY

It glows. And you say it talks?

BOBBY

That’s right. Ask it a question.

JEREMY

Okay, are the Cubs ever going to win the World Series?

BOBBY

Well, answer the question.

GUIDE

I can only answer questions you pose.

BOBBY

All right. Will the Cubs ever win the World Series?

GUIDE

Not within the next 80 years.

BOBBY

Ha! They are pretty bad.

JEREMY

Who’s pretty bad? And when is that thing going to answer?

BOBBY

It just did. It said not within the next 80 years.

JEREMY

I didn’t hear it. Did anyone else?

Everybody shakes his or her head.

GUIDE

Only you can hear me, Bobby.

BOBBY

Oh, only I can hear it.

JEREMY

Bobby, you’re the last person I’d ever expect to do crazy things. But you are officially Crazy Boy now!

The rooms chants ‘Crazy Boy.’ Bobby sits at his desk, puts the Guide into his pocket and covers his ears. The teacher, MISS EVEREST, comes into the room.

MISS EVEREST

Hey! What’s all the shouting? Everyone in their seats!

The class scatters and sits down.

MISS EVEREST

We have a very special guest this morning! An Astronaut, who flew on one of the moon missions! Class, please welcome Michael Collins!

The class claps as MICHAEL COLLINS comes in. Bobby uncovers his ears.

BOBBY

A real astronaut!

MICHAEL COLLINS

Hi kids! Hey, who here remembers Apollo 11?

A few kids tentatively raise their hand, including Bobby.

MICHAEL COLLINS

I thought so, you were pretty young when we went out. Do you remember Apollo 15? About six months ago?

Everybody raises their hand.

MICHAEL COLLINS

Great! What did you like most about that mission?

Bobby and others raise their hand. Collins points at Bobby.

BOBBY

The lunar rover!

MICHAEL COLLINS

That’s right, we were able to drive on the moon for the first time! Hey, who here wants to be an astronaut?

Half the class raises their hands, including an enthusiastic Bobby.

MICHAEL COLLINS

Great! We need people like you if we’re going to make it to Mars in the next 30 years!

Bobby raises an eyebrow, puts his hand in his pocket and speaks furtively.

BOBBY

Is that true? Will we go to Mars?

GUIDE

Yes, but the first Mars landing won’t be until 2045.

BOBBY

(Raises hand)

I’m sorry, Mr. Collins, but you’re wrong. We won’t go to Mars in the next 30 years. It will be (does the math in his head) 73 years.

MICHAEL COLLINS

(Laughs)

Well, granted we may have some cost overruns, but we’re on track to land by 2010, not that far into the future. (Hesitates) Any other questions?

The kids laugh, and Bobby hears several kids say ‘Crazy Boy.’ He puts his head on his desk again.
EXT: PLAYGROUND – DAY
Bobby sits alone, away from the other kids. One occasionally passes him, yelling ‘Crazy Boy.’ Bobby gets up and wanders further away. He feels something hit him in the back and turns to find a baseball on the ground near him.

BOBBY

Okay, what joker threw the ball?

He picks it up and notices something written on it.

BOBBY

Take it easy? What does that mean?

He sighs and put the ball in his pocket.
INT: PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE – DAY
Lorie and Brad sit in the office. PRINCIPAL OWENS sits at his desk.

PRINCIPAL OWENS

I’m so glad you could make it here on such short notice. Bobby’s having some problems in school today and I wanted to bring it to your attention. He’s been in several fights already, including an argument with his teacher over how best to teach the class. He says a ball told him the answers. It has me worried. Has something happened over the holidays?

LORIE

Bobby has an overactive imagination. He received a lot of science fiction comics for Christmas and he was reading them non-stop.

PRINCIPAL OWENS

While I would normally applaud his ability to read, and have in the past, I think he needs to lay off the comics and keep his imagination in check. I’m sending him home for the rest of the day. And Doctor, you might want to take a look at his eye. It’s a bit swollen.

Brad and Lorie get up, and open the door to the reception room. Bobby sits there with a black eye and a pained look in his eyes.
INT: TIMMONS LIVING ROOM – DAY
Bobby, Brad and Lorie come into the apartment.

LORIE

Sit on the couch. I’ll take a closer look at that eye.

She goes into the kitchen.

Bobby sits, throws his backpack down.
The old man comes in.

THE OLD MAN

A little worse for wear?

BRAD

Perhaps we should take Bobby out of school until he (pause) adjusts.

BOBBY

They’re my friends, or they should be. I don’t want to be stuck here.

The old man touches Bobby’s eye and Bobby winces.

THE OLD MAN

Bobby’s right. He’ll adjust faster if confronts their laughter, their punches. Who started the fight anyway?

BOBBY

They did. One of them threw a baseball at me and no one admitted it. So I punched that creep Jeremy. He’s been the worst. Then they all started hitting me.

BRAD

Someone threw a baseball?

Bobby reaches into his backpack and pulls out the ball.

BOBBY

He even wrote something on it.

Bobby tosses the ball to Brad, who looks at the writing on the ball, and stares at the Old Man.

BRAD

This looks familiar. You don’t think…

THE OLD MAN

What I think is that Bobby needs to learn how to protect himself. He needs to know when to fight and when to walk away. There’s an old saying I’ve heard: ‘It is better to hear there he goes, than there he lies.’ Today, you were the one lying. Maybe you can teach him some martial arts.

(He stares at Bobby.)

For purely defensive capabilities.

BRAD

Maybe he can work on some Jujitsu, and some Eastern philosophies.

Lorie comes into the room carrying a bag filled with ice. She sits next to Bobby and looks at his eye.

LORIE

Nothing too serious. Put this ice pack on for the rest of the day, and get some rest.

THE OLD MAN

He needs a punishment, since he started all this by doing exactly what we told him not to do: telling people about the ball. Hand it over.

Bobby looks at Brad and then to Lorie.

BOBBY

You’re going to listen to him? It’s my ball, you said so yourself. It can only hear me, only talk to me!

BRAD

Just for the rest of the day.

Bobby stares at Brad for a moment. He reaches into the backpack and pulls out the ball. He hands it to the Old Man, bursts into tears and runs to his room.

BRAD

That was harsh. He was already beaten up. You had to take away his only friend.

THE OLD MAN

He’ll get over it. Lay out a plan to teach him Jujitsu, Sensei, and I’ll reprogram his ball to keep him on track.

FADE OUT
ACT II
FADE IN
EXT: WOODS – DAY
These woods are in a rural area of Nebraska, close to a small, as yet unnamed town. YOUNG DOTTIE and YOUNG PENNY walk outside the woods. It is about a month after the events of Act I. Young Dottie is 6, has blazing red hair, and is tall for her age. Young Penny is 5 1/2, blonde, and is average height. Snow is on the ground and they are dressed in coats. Young Dottie’s seems a bit threadbare, Young Penny’s is all fluffy. They hold hands and they approach a path into the woods.

YOUNG PENNY

Are you sure it’s safe? Seems a bit spooky to me.

Young Dottie lets go of Young Penny’s hand.

YOUNG DOTTIE

You’re kidding me, right? You travel all over the place with your parents but you won’t go into the woods with me?

YOUNG PENNY

I’ve heard that bears come here.

YOUNG DOTTIE

Silly. The bears are hibernating now. Come on!

Young Penny reluctantly follows Young Dottie into the woods. After a time they come upon a spring flowing into a creek. They stop to enjoy the wildlife they see: a majestic stag taking a drink.

YOUNG PENNY

(softly)

Ooh, how pretty!

YOUNG DOTTIE

Good thing my dad’s not here, he’d shoot him.

YOUNG PENNY

Oh no. (looks at stag) Not him. He looks too proud to be shot.

Young Dottie points her fingers like a gun.

YOUNG DOTTIE

Pow!

The Stag looks at them and then runs away.

YOUNG PENNY

See what you did! He’s too smart to get shot.

Young Dottie shakes her head and sighs. They continue down the stream until they come across a man fishing. He sits on a red-stained duffel bag. Young Dottie stops, looks at the man, and shivers, eyes wide. Young Penny smiles at the man and waves.

YOUNG PENNY

I know him. He works at my dad’s plant. Hi Mr. Brady!

MR. BRADY smiles back at the girls and waves. Young Penny starts to wind her way to him. Young Dottie pulls her back. Young Dottie is agitated.

YOUNG DOTTIE

(gasping for breath) Something isn’t right, Penny. Lets – lets get out of here.

PENNY

(stares at Dottie) What’s wrong with you? You sick?

DOTTIE

Uh, that must be it. I’m sick.

PENNY

(Turns to Mr. Brady) See you later!

The man stares after them as they walk away. He quickly stands and puts his fishing gear into the bag. A small, pale hand pokes out of the bag.
Young Penny is skipping as she and Young Dottie move away. Young Dottie freezes for a moment.

YOUNG DOTTIE

Run!

She bolts toward the entrance of the woods. Young Penny stops, her hands on her hips.

YOUNG PENNY

(yelling) What are you doing?

YOUNG DOTTIE

(stops) Race you home!

YOUNG PENNY

Well if you wanted to race you gotta give me more warning!

Young Penny starts to run after Young Dottie. When they get side by side, they both run together. They reach the entrance and Young Penny falls backward onto some soft, snow-covered grass, gasping for breath. They are in a business area now, a road lies before them and cars pass by.

YOUNG PENNY

You win! You always win when it comes to running. Must be those long legs.

Young Dottie looks behind them and sees Mr. Brady standing about a hundred yards away, carrying the duffel bag. Something red drips from it. She shivers.

YOUNG PENNY

(stands) Hey, I wonder if Dad and Uncle are busy? Let’s go see!

YOUNG DOTTIE

(looks back again)

Good idea, I kinda wanna talk to them.

They head to a large complex, wave to the guard at the gate and walk inside.
INT: ARTHUR THOMAS’ OFFICE – DAY
ARTHUR Thomas, Penny’s father, a man in his mid-30’s, sits at his desk UNCLE JACK, his brother, in his late 20’s, lays spread eagle on a couch. FELIX LIGHTER, in his late 40’s, sits in front of Arthur.

ARTHUR THOMAS

Jack I wish you’d pay attention while we talk business.

UNCLE JACK

I took the redeye from Paris. I’m dead tired.

LIGHTER

Perhaps if you’d spend less time with that French girl, you’d have more energy.

Uncle Jack looks over at Lighter, thumbs his nose at him.

ARTHUR THOMAS

Enough. Felix, mind your own business. Jack you need to take more of a hand in this company.

UNCLE JACK

Because father would have wanted it that way? Yes, I know how I’m supposed to act.

ARTHUR THOMAS

(Leans forward) I’m not saying don’t have fun. I’m saying take a little of the responsibility off my shoulders so I can spend a little more time with my family. Let’s get down to business.

He turns to Lighter.

LIGHTER

(Glances at Jack) Very well. Walter Gambel and his team have come up with a preliminary report on a new formula which could be very profitable. It’s an industrial glue that might have military applications.

ARTHUR THOMAS

How so?

LIGHTER

It seems to take on different properties when mixed with other chemicals. Possibly even explosive. We’ve codenamed it ‘QSA’ according to protocol.

ARTHUR THOMAS

Felix, you know I don’t deal with the military, especially when a chemical can do harm. It’s always been the policy of the company to help mankind, not hurt him. I want research on this stopped immediately.

LIGHTER

I would like to put this to a vote of the Board of Directors.

ARTHUR THOMAS

Fine, Jack, how do you vote?

UNCLE JACK

(Sighs) Felix he’s right. Father would never approve.

ARTHUR THOMAS

There. 51 percent of the stockholders say no. Stop research immediately.

LIGHTER

(Visibly upset)Very well. But I’ll make sure the rest of the board knows about this.

ARTHUR THOMAS

I’d expect nothing less. Any other...

A racket outside the office interrupts him. The door opens and Young Penny and Young Dottie rush in. Arthur Thomas smiles and holds out his arms.

ARTHUR THOMAS

Penny, dear.

Young Penny rushes to his arms and they hug. Lighter sits with his eyes closed, exasperation on his face.

LIGHTER

As if we don’t have enough problems.

Young Dottie stands behind him, shivers slightly, crosses her arms and glares at him. Uncle Jack sits up and gives her a mock salute. Young Dottie smiles at him.

YOUNG PENNY

Daddy, we saw Mr. Brady just now in the woods.

ARTHUR THOMAS

Yes, he sometimes uses his lunch period to go walking and hunting.

YOUNG DOTTIE

Hunting for kids!

Arthur looks at her questioningly.

YOUNG DOTTIE

(cont) I saw him put a body in his bag!

LIGHTER

A body, what kind of body?

YOUNG DOTTIE

A child. I think it was a girl!

YOUNG PENNY

Oh you did not see anything like that, Dottie. I sure didn’t!

YOUNG DOTTIE

(shudders) Well I didn’t see it as much as I felt it. He killed someone and is trying to hide the body!

LIGHTER

Felt it? Preposterous! Get out of this office with your wild stories!

Arthur has watched Young Dottie throughout the accusation.

ARTHUR THOMAS

Now, now, Felix, let’s not be so hasty. Dottie saw or felt something out of the ordinary, that’s obvious to me. Jack, can you investigate? Just pull him aside and ask a few general questions.

UNCLE JACK

(Looks thoughtfully at Young Dottie) All right, in the interest of being thorough.

LIGHTER

You’re just going to take her word, when your own daughter can’t even corroborate?

ARTHUR THOMAS

(Shrugs) Just call it a hunch. Dottie, Penny, why don’t you run on home. Tell your mother I’ll be home soon.

Young Penny glares at Young Dottie, who smiles at Arthur. Young Penny takes her by the arm and they go out. Uncle Jack follows them.

LIGHTER

You can’t be serious?

ARTHUR THOMAS

You don’t know her family like I do. Do you remember the deal we worked on for the Shah of Iran?

LIGHTER

The one that fell through? (shakes head) And a good thing too.

ARTHUR THOMAS

I met Dottie’s mother while we were still negotiating with the Shah’s men, you know, over lunch to thank her for taking Penny while we were overseas, and the negotiations came up in the conversation. I saw that woman shudder like I saw Dottie do just now. She told me she had a bad feeling about it, and I should keep my eyes open. Well I did, in fact I read through  that contract myself and I found something our lawyers missed. I’ve never been one to believe in ESP until that day. And if my suspicions are true, she passed her gift to her daughter and we will have caught a killer in our midst. (Leans back) And if not, we’ll simply inconvenience Mr. Brady.

LIGHTER

For his sake, I hope you’re wrong.

INT. OUTER OFFICE - DAY
Young Penny and Young Dottie come out the door, followed by Uncle Jack. He pats Young Penny on the head and she smiles. He exits the room.

YOUNG DOTTIE

He believed me! He actually believed me!

YOUNG PENNY

I don’t know where you got this idea that Mr. Brady killed someone, but is that why you ran?

YOUNG DOTTIE

Yes, I felt afraid of him. Let’s go home.

INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY
Uncle Jack sits opposite Mr. Brady. The bag sits on a table between them, very bloody, but empty. Uncle Jack Stares at Mr. Brady, who stares coldly back.

UNCLE JACK

You shot a pig during lunch.

Mr. Brady nods.

UNCLE JACK

(Cont.) Where’s the body now? And for that matter where’s the gun?

MR. BRADY

Well, I couldn’t really bring a bloody pig into work, could I? I buried it so I can get it later. And the gun is in my locker. You know the policies.

UNCLE JACK

Yes, we found the gun, but it didn’t look like it had been fired.

MR. BRADY

I keep my guns clean.

He stares hard at Uncle Jack, who shivers.

UNCLE JACK

(Slowly) I think I need to call the Sheriff.

MR. BRADY

Not against the law to hunt, Mr. Thomas. I have permits.

UNCLE JACK

For hunting children?

Mr. Brady stays perfectly still, eyes on Uncle Jack.
INT. ARTHUR THOMAS’ OFFICE - DAY.
Arthur is on the phone when Uncle Jack comes in. Arthur signals him to sit down. Jack puts his hand on the phone and hangs it up. He picks it up and dials.

ARTHUR THOMAS

Something amiss?

UNCLE JACK

You should have seen his eyes, Arthur, cold, calculating. Hello, Sheriff’s office? This is Jack Thomas, of Thomas Chemicals. We need someone to come out immediately. One of our employees may have killed a child. (Pause) Thank you.

He hangs up the phone.

UNCLE JACK

Security is holding him and the bag.

ARTHUR THOMAS

Unsettling isn’t it, knowing that you’ve hired a killer? Now you know why father could not allow us to make anything harmful. It’s terrible to have that on your conscience.

Uncle Jack nods.
EXT. WOODS - NIGHT
Dogs bay as they are held by their handlers. A team of officers comb the woods near where Young Dottie and Young Penny saw Mr. Brady. A cry goes up and the Sheriff approaches. He uncovers some dirt to find a pale arm and hand half-buried in the dirt.
EXT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE BUILDING - DAY
Arthur Thomas, Uncle Jack stand with the Sheriff and the MAYOR.

SHERIFF

She was only 7, not even from this town. He kidnapped her and brought her here to have his way with her, then killed her while at lunch and tried to bury her. He got caught in the act, though, thanks to that girl.

MAYOR

She deserves a commendation. Ah, here’s her mother. Thanks for coming Mrs. Brown.

BETH Brown, walks up to the Mayor.

BETH

Thanks for calling me, sir. Dottie’s in school right now.

They shake hands.

MAYOR

I’ll go to her school later today to award her a commendation. I just wanted you to know first.

Beth nods. The mayor and sheriff leave.

ARTHUR THOMAS

Beth, I wonder if we might have a word with you.

BETH

Sure Arthur, planning another trip?

ARTHUR THOMAS

Well, actually, yes, but we’re taking Penny with us to Germany. No, I wanted to talk to you about Dottie. She has an extraordinary gift.

BETH

I’ve noticed it, Arthur., but I decided to let it develop on its own. You can’t push someone her age too hard or she’ll stop trusting it.

ARTHUR THOMAS

(nods) I understand. Thank you for coming.

INT. SCHOOL AUDITORIUM - DAY
The school holds grades K-12, as a way of cutting the budget. The entire school population, around 600 students sits in their seats. Young Dottie and Young Penny sit in the front row with their classmates. The mayor cones to the stage.

MAYOR

Thank you all for coming here. Today we’re here to honor one of our students, a girl whose insight allowed us to catch a child-killer. I’m sure you’ve all heard about it. Dottie Brown, please come forward.

Young Dottie rises. Murmurs also rise. She goes slowly to the stage and stops at the mayor.

MAYOR

Dottie, I have here a Certificate of Commendation, with your name on it, (reads) ‘In honor of using your mental powers of deduction to help capture a child killer,’ dated February 20, 1973.

He gives the certificate to Young Dottie, amid some cheers, most notably from Young Penny and her classmates. Young Dottie smiles for a picture, then scurries to her seat.
As the assembly breaks up, children of various ages pass by Young Dottie.

BOY #1

Hey Noodle Noggin, what am I thinking?

Young Dottie looks confused and passes him by.

GIRL #1

Hey Freak.

Young Dottie sneers and walks away, Young Penny in tow.

BOY #2

Bend a spoon for us, Einstein.

YOUNG DOTTIE

What are you talking about?

Young Dottie’s TEACHER grabs her by the hand and runs interference. They exit the auditorium.
INT. CLASSROOM - DAY
Young Dottie, Young Penny and their teacher enter their classroom.

TEACHER

Don’t worry about them, Dottie. They don’t understand.

Young Dottie sits at her desk, a confused look on her face.
INT. DOTTIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Young Dottie is dreaming. Children of all ages surround her, walking around her.

BOY #1

Hey Noodle Noggin, what am I thinking?

GIRL #1

Hey freak.

BOY #2

Bend a spoon for us, Einstein.

GIRL #1

You’re just a freak.

The children begin chanting ‘Freak, freak’ over and over again. Young Dottie, in the center, turns in different directions.

YOUNG DOTTIE

But I’m not a freak. It’s a gift! (Chants continue, getting louder) I want it to stop! (Covers ears) Please stop! (Gets on knees) Make it stop! Make it Stop!

She closes her eyes and lets out a scream.
She wakes, breathing hard, sits up.

YOUNG DOTTIE

How can I stop that? I know, it never happened. I can’t really do it. I can’t really do it. (closes eyes, leans back) I can’t do it anymore.

The door opens and Beth comes in.

BETH

Dottie! I thought I heard a scream! Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?

YOUNG DOTTIE

(Perfectly calm) I’m fine, mom. Just fine.