DOUBLE INDIANA

by

David Keith Miller

2075 Meridian Ave. Apt. C

South Pasadena, CA 91030

(323) 683-2517

Copyright (c) 2012 Registered WGAw

FADE IN:

EXT HIGHWAY 58 - DAY

The highway stretches endlessly, mindlessly. It shimmers in the heat.

CLUNKY CAR NOISE is heard O.S., and the sound of someone PANTING and GRUNTING.

The road is seen from very low down, like the view of a man with the side of his face pressed by a boot against the asphalt who knows his last sight on earth before he dies, is going to be that idiot highway.

The side of a man’s face is in fact pressed against the asphalt by a boot. He is ADRIAN, short, wiry, and right now, dishevelled and covered with sweat, dust, mud and blood, much of it his.

A beat-up Buick Regal backs onto the road from an adjacent driveway, turns and bears down on them.

ALDO, a tall, lanky man in an impeccable Armani Black Label, grins down at Adrian beneath his patent leather Bruno Maglis as the car picks up speed.

Adrian struggles beneath the merciless footwear.

At the last minute Aldo steps back. Adrian rolls out of the way, yanking out of the path of the Buick a battered and shot-up silver briefcase, open and empty, that is handcuffed to his left wrist over a necktie wrapped like a bandage around the wrist.

The undercarriage of the car blurs by.

Aldo LAUGHS, a staccato bark, and idly points his gun at Adrian as the Buick SCREECHES to a stop and turns around.

ALDODid your life pass before your eyes?

Adrian doesn’t respond, couldn’t in fact if he wanted to, because it’s taking all his effort to force enough air into his lungs to keep his heart from bursting.

ALDOI always wondered. If it really does. Or is it just a literary convention.

The Buick’s DOOR SLAMS O.S. and heavy footsteps approach. Adrian claws his way to his feet, the briefcase dangling uselessly from his wrist.

ALDOBecause when you listen to people’s dying words -- and I’ve heard a lot of them -- they don’t have anything to do with their life that may or may not have passed before their eyes. It’s always, like, “Oh, shit.” “Please don’t kill me.” Things like that.

BRUNO walks into frame, a big monster in an impeccable black double-breasted Brioni. He picks Adrian the rest of the way up and SLUGS him down to the ground.

ALDOThough of course, that may have more to do with the kind of deaths I witness. I don’t see many people dying in their beds, know what I mean?

Aldo LAUGHS again as Adrian paws the ground, trying to figure out which way is up so he can get there again.

ALDOAnyway, my point is. Or my question. Do people see their life? And what about blind people? Particularly ones who have been blind since birth.

(to Bruno)Hit him again.

Bruno KICKS Adrian in the head, flipping him over backward.

ALDOI mean, do they hear their life pass before their ears?

The song “LA BAMBA” plays over.

HIGHWAY 58 - DAY (FLASHBACK)

Two days earlier. The Buick, beat up but not nearly as badly, zooms down the road. “LA BAMBA” plays.

INT BUICK

Adrian, wearing a Haggar herringbone sport coat and tie, shifts impatiently in the passenger’s seat as “LA BAMBA” pours out of the speakers.

He looks over at his partner BERNARD, a big, hulking man with a baby face and slow, patient eyes. Bernard wears a dove-grey three-piece Macy’s label suit. He smokes a cigarette and mouths the words to the song as he drives.

2.

Adrian reaches over and lowers the volume on the radio, revealing the undamaged metal briefcase neatly closed and handcuffed to his left hand.

Adrian relaxes back in his seat -- only now he can hear Bernard SINGING QUIETLY. Bernard hadn’t been mouthing the words, he had just been drowned out by the radio so that it seemed like he was.

BERNARD(singing)

Para cantar la bambaPara cantar la bamba, necessitoUna poca de graciaUna poca de gracia, y otro cosito --

Adrian irritably TURNS UP THE VOLUME to drown out Bernard again.

ADRIANDo we have to listen to this?

BERNARDIt’s cultural.

ADRIANIt’s from another culture, yes. That doesn’t make it cultural.

BERNARDThen what does?

ADRIANNothing makes it cultural. Do you even know what it means?

Bernard shrugs.

ADRIANThe song “La Bamba” describes the qualities you need to perform the song “La Bamba.” Qualities you lack.

BERNARDLike what?

ADRIANWell -- like “una poca de gracia.” A little grace. I wouldn’t say you’re filled with grace.

BERNARD“Hail Mary, full of grace --”

3.

ADRIANDon’t change the subject.

Bernard raises his eyebrows, innocence unjustly accused.

BERNARDYou said “grace”!

ADRIANCan we change the channel before my head explodes?

Adrian reaches over and searches the dial, but all he gets is STATIC until he returns to the channel playing “La Bamba.” He leans back in disgust.

ADRIANThis hunk of junk. Why didn’t you get a nice car? They gave us a hundred dollars for the rental.

BERNARDThis only cost us thirty bucks.

(winking)And the rest goes right in our pockets.

ADRIANUntil the car breaks down. And if we don’t make it on time --

BERNARDWe’ve got plenty of time.

ADRIANYou know what they’ll do to us, don’t you?

BERNARDNothing bad can happen while I’ve got my rabbit’s foot.

Bernard gently rubs the grimy, tattered rabbit’s foot he’s hung on the rear-view mirror.

ADRIANI don’t want to hear about that again.

BERNARDIt’s saved my life many times.

ADRIANThe rabbit died, may I remind you. The foot didn’t help him much.

4.