The Feature Film Script
writen by
Frank Mosco
story by
Daniel Mosco & Frank Mosco
ISBN 0-9769272-7-6
Quillquest Books
Copyright � 2002
by Frank Mosco & Daniel Mosco
____________________
STANLEY
Listen Bart old man. We're law students. Future
level headed guardians of fortune and industry. We
can't allow ourselves to be shaken by the antics of a
fictitious Hollywood monkey.
Before Stanley can toss the match his wrist is grabbed and stayed firmly by the strong weathered hand of a stranger.
OLD SAILOR (O.S.)
Monkey?
The stranger, aged wool p-coat and a seaman's hat, pulls the burning match to his pipe, draws heavily until the pipe is well lit then turns loose Stanley's hand. The flaring match reveals the leathery face of a hard lived and long traveled OLD SAILOR.
OLD SAILOR
Monkey? Fictitious?
(puff)
What the hell do you know.
(beat, puff)
Thanks for the light, kid.
The old sailor turns and walks off. We notice a limp.
STANLEY
And I suppose you're an expert?
The old sailor pauses, turns back.
OLD SAILOR
On monkeys, nope. Couldn't give a damn.
The old sailor returns to settle close to the boys.
OLD SAILOR
But that creature in there...
He looks about and becomes a bit nervous.
OLD SAILOR
I've been places... Seen things. Things you can't
imagine. I know the truth...
(looks over his shoulder)
...not that movie shit. The truth.
Bart is captivated by the mystery of the old man. Stanley is indifferent. The old sailor views Stanley's doubt, shuns him with a wave off and walks away.
STANLEY
Crazy old man.
Bart perks up, pats Stanley on the back.
BART
Stanley, my man, where's your sense of curiosity.
(beat)
Besides, what the hell else have we got to do?
Bart catches up to the old sailor, puts a hand on his shoulder. The old sailor startles then settles as Bart speaks, (unheard). They seem to strike up a bargain.
Stanley observes, shakes his head at Bart's antics. Here we go again.
Bart returns with the old sailor.
BART
Stan, I think we would do well to listen to our
new found friend here. As grandma Haile always
says, 'Taking in an old man's wisdom is far more
enlightening than reading all the books ever written
by unlived savants.
STANLEY
Your grandmother really said that?
BART
Well, actually it was more like, 'Shut the hell up
and listen to your grandfather'.
Bart takes both men by the arm and escorts them along the street.
BART
Gentlemen, what say we take some sustenance
and talk awhile?
INT. DINER - NIGHT
We find Stanley, Bart and the old sailor sitting at a booth. The old sailor is shoveling down his second helping of the blue plate special and motions to the WAITRESS for more coffee. She pours and moves along. Stanley sits bored, leans to Bart who seems to enjoy the sight of this hungry man filling his needs.
STANLEY
I thought we were here to relish the wisdom of an
old...
OLD SAILOR
(interrupting)
...hard times, son. Gotta' gets whatcha' can when
ya can. Depression ya know. ...world gone crazy.
STANLEY
Yeah, well...
BART
So my friend. About this monkey?
The old sailor pauses seriously, a mouth full of food. He studies Bart's eyes then to Stanley and back to Bart.
OLD SAILOR
Monkey?
(swallows)
Monkey's an exotic little furry critter ya gives a
French whore for a good time.
(beat)
Nope. Ain't no monkey story I can tell. Ain't
nothin' like you can possibly imagine. Ain't fit for
words... or the ears of decent folk.
BART
Yeah well, we aren't decent folk. We're future
lawyers.
The old sailor grunts, sits back and pulls out his pipe. Looks expectantly to Stanley. Stanley pulls out a match and tosses it across the table.
OLD SAILOR
College boys, eh.
Bart smiles with pride. As the old sailor lights his pipe he studies the young men, tosses the match on the now empty blue plate special where it sizzles out in the gravy.
STANLEY
So, you just played us for a free meal, eh Pops.
OLD SAILOR
Ya see... ain't never told nobody before. Ain't
never wanted to. But them dumb-ass picture
show shit heads...
(beat, sips coffee)
...got it all wrong. Way off course.
The old sailor looks down to his pipe in hand. His hand shakes slightly. He brings up his other hand, it too trembles slightly from age.
OLD SAILOR
I ain't got much more time in this world. Ain't got
no family I know of.
He gets up from the booth, puts on his p-coat and hat and walks for the door. Bart and Stanley watch. Stanley throws up his hands.
STANLEY
Told you it was a waste of time.
BART
Maybe he's shy.
STANLEY
Yeah, like a fox.
The old sailor turns back, motions the boys to join him.
OLD SAILOR
Ahoy there.
Bart smiles, jumps up. He's joined reluctantly by Stanley who tosses some money on the table.
EXT. NEW YORK HARBOR - NIGHT
Fog has rolled in over the cold harbor. Rusty steamer ships tower over the docks straining at their heavy lines. We hear a ship's bell, fog horns, the occasional blustering of sailors from a waterfront bar. Through the fog along the dock walks the old sailor, Bart and Stanley. They hear a bottle crash and break and look to find,
A young drunken MERCHANT SEAMAN passing out against a netted pile of cargo. A BUM comes out of the shadows and starts picking through the seaman's pockets.
Bart moves to stop the theft but to his surprise he's restrained with a hand on the arm by the old sailor.
OLD SAILOR
Belay that mate. That sailor's a youngin'... gotta'
learn or next time it won't just be his purse he be losin'.
The bum snatches the seaman's money and runs off.
They continue walking until the old sailor finds a suitable spot on the wharf affording a view past the ships. He sits heavily on a crate. Stanley suspiciously looks about the dock area. Bart stretches over the bulkhead and squints down into the water, something nearby catches his attention. He looks over to find,
An extremely large WHARF RAT scurrying up a thick ship's tie line.
BART
(shivers)
Big damn mouse.
OLD SAILOR (O.S.)
It was back in eighty-nine. I missed the war... too
young.
Bart turns his attention to the old sailor.
BART
War. The great war? The Kaiser?
OLD SAILOR
Eighty-nine son. War between the states. I
comes off the farm outa' Ohio back in seventy-four.
Went to be a whaler but that died off. So's I worked
the cargo lines to Europe. Then the China trade.
That's where the story begins. Eighty-nine, Borneo.
BART
Borneo?
OLD SAILOR
Yep. Was workin' the Saint Jane, a four-master
outa' San Francisco. We catched an unfortunate
storm outa' New Guinea and had to put in to Borneo
for repairs.
Stanley lights a cigarette, relaxes against the pile of cargo in anticipation of the old man's lengthy cock-and-bull story.
OLD SAILOR
Yep, Borneo. Couple of us boys got a little
rumbustious. You know, too much rum and some
unsavory ladies.
Bart smiles. He's taking a liking to the old man and sits on a crate next to him.
OLD SAILOR
Anyways, we all ends up in a local pig pen them
heathens called a jail where we comes across an
old Samoan. Tattoos head to toe. If ya hadn't known
better ya'd s'pect he was a man-eater 'n had a shrunk
head in every pocket. Well, turns out this old man was
in dire health and short ta live, wantin' nothin' more but
to ease his pain. So we gives him the last of our rum
and in his gratitude, just afore he died, he offers up a
story...
(beat, puffs pipe)
...and a map.
BART
A map?
OLD SAILOR
Sure enough. Map... changed my life, it did.
Changed all our lives.
(beat)
Them that lived, that is.
Stanley starts to take interest.
STANLEY
Changed. How?
OLD SAILOR
Don't get me wrong, now. It weren't no mutiny or
nothin'.
The old man looks down in shame.
BART
What do you mean?
OLD SAILOR
Well, right after we put to sea the Capt'n up and
died. Just up and died. And we'd left the First
Officer in Borneo. He was sickly too. Heard later
he died same as the Capt'n. Some damn thing like that.
So's there we was kinda' rudderless and we had this map.
Wrote in Portuguee it was, but we had this ship's
carpenter could read Portuguee. Turns out this map was
about an uncharted island in the Indian Ocean belows
the 'quator somewhere's 'tween Sumatra and Madagascar...
with riches. Not your usual storybook treasure kind of
shit mind you, but riches, untapped. Mountains full of
diamond deposits just for the pickin' but...
(puff)
seems them few souls fortunate 'nuff to find 'em
never lived long 'nuff ta...
STANLEY
Never lived. Why?
OLD SAILOR
Island was s'posed to be cursed. Protected... by...
The old sailor squirms, nervous, the troubling memories running through his mind.
BART
What?
OLD SAILOR
Beast. A... godawful beast.
He raises his pipe, hand shaking. The pipe is out. He knocks out the burnt tobacco and packs in new. Stanley strikes a match and helps him light it.
STANLEY
A beast?
A few puffs of the pipe and the old sailor recovers.
OLD SAILOR
So anyways, the crew took a vote. Decided to
venture out for them diamonds. Had nothin' to lose,
ya see. With no capt'n it weren't likely we'd be
makin' much coin for our efforts of takin' the Saint
Jane home right off. Ship's owners weren't too
generous back then, ya know.
BART
You went there? To the island?
OLD SAILOR
We went.
(beat)
Better we'd gone straight ta hell.
The old sailor takes off his hat and sets it beside him then wipes his brow with a kerchief. After a moment Stanley stands tall, stretches, checks his watch and nods to Bart.
STANLEY
Getting late.
Bart stands.
BART
Did you find the diamonds?
OLD SAILOR
What we found... What we found no man should
ever see.
(beat)
Diamonds? Yep, big as your fist they was. Solomon
himself can't imagine. Sure, we found 'em... but that
weren't all we found.
The old sailor falls silent once again as he drifts into past memories. Stanley draws some cash from his pocket and sets it easy into the old man's hat. As an afterthought he tosses in his matches then turns and walks off. Bart pats the old sailor on the back.
BART
Take care old man.
As they walk off along the dock the old sailor calls.
OLD SAILOR
Wait!
They stop and turn.
The old sailor stands, hat in hand.
OLD SAILOR
I was the only one... The only one ta live. Never
told nobody... till now.
He walks up, reaches into his coat and pulls out a stained old folded piece of parchment, hands it to Bart. Bart opens it.
BART
The map?
OLD SAILOR
Some souls might say it's a map. I'd say it's...
(beat)
...a doomed course to perdition.
While the young men stike a match and look to the map the old sailor turns and walks away, disappearing into the fog.
They look up to find the old man gone.
CLOSE ON the old sailor as he limps through the heavy mist. He pauses, lights his pipe. A distant deep lingering fog horn grips the harbor as a sly devious smile comes over his weathered face.
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