Moonrise Kingdom Scene 2

[Scout Master Ward looks quickly through his stack of letters. He stops and pulls out an air-mail envelope. He stares at it. Captain Sharp says forcefully but highly agitated:]

CAPTAIN SHARP: Mr. Billingsley, I’ve got an escaped Khaki Scout. We’re notifying you as a matter of protocol. You say you can’t invite him back? You say he’s an orphan? Well, I don’t understand how that works.

CAPTAIN SHARP: *totally confused* What am I supposed to do with him?

MR. BILLINGSLEY: That’s up to Social Services. They’ll be in touch with you. They’ll look after Sam. Good luck to you.

[Mr. Billingsley hangs up the telephone. Becky pulls the cords out of their sockets. Captain Sharp looks to Scout Master Ward. Silence.]

[Becky opens a tin of home-made chocolate chip cookies. Captain Sharp declines one. Scout Master Ward tries one. He looks very impressed.]

[EXT. SCOUT CAMP. DAY]

[Scout Master Ward stands on a bench addressing his assembled troop. The scouts are equipped for hiking with back-packs and walking-sticks.]

SCOUT MASTER WARD: You have your orders. Use the orienteering and path-finding skills you’ve been practicing all summer. Let’s find our man and bring him safely back to camp. Remember: this isn’t just a search party, it’s a chance to do some first- class scouting. Any questions?

[Lazy-Eye raises his hand. Scout Master Ward points to him.]

SCOUT MASTER WARD: Lazy-Eye.

LAZY-EYE: What’s your real job, sir?

SCOUT MASTER WARD: *caught off-guard* I’m a math teacher.

LAZY-EYE: What grade?

SCOUT MASTER WARD: *stiffening* Eighth. Why?

[Lazy-Eye shrugs. Scout Master Ward frowns.]

SCOUT MASTER WARD: You know, we’re, actually, kind of, in the middle of something, if you didn’t notice. This is a crisis. Anybody else?

[Redford raises his hand. Scout Master Ward points to him.]

SCOUT MASTER WARD: Redford.

REDFORD: What if he resists?

SCOUT MASTER WARD: *hesitates* Who?

REDFORD: Shakusky. Are we allowed to use force on him?

SCOUT MASTER WARD: *irritated* No, you’re not. This is a non-violent rescue effort. Your instructions are to find him, not to hurt him. Under any circumstances. Do I make myself understood?

[The scouts murmur their understanding. Scout Master Ward nods.]

SCOUT MASTER WARD: Good.

[Pause. Scout Master Ward wheels back to Lazy-Eye:]

SCOUT MASTER WARD: I’m going to change my answer, in fact. This is my real job. Scout Master, Troop 55. That’s us. I’m proud of that.

[The scouts look impressed but slightly lost. Scout Master Ward says finally:]

SCOUT MASTER WARD: Be leery out there. OK, let’s get started. Where’s Snoopy?

SKOTAK: Right here.

[Skotak holds up a leash attached to a wire-haired terrier. Scout Master Ward takes a sock with a fleur-de-lis on it out of a paper sack.]

SCOUT MASTER WARD: Give him the scent.

[Scout Master Ward hands the sock to Skotak.]

CUT TO: Redford, Deluca, Nickleby, Lazy-Eye, and Gadge at the back of the group talking under their breath while Skotak waves the sock under the dog’s nose

LAZY-EYE: I heard he ran away because his family died.

GADGE: I heard he never had any family in the first place.

DELUCA: That’s probably why he’s crazy.

REDFORD: I’ll tell you one thing: if we find him, I’m not going to be the one who forgot to bring a weapon.

NICKLEBY: Me, neither.

[MONTAGE:The troop moves in a wide line searching through a thicket of skinny trees. Redford carries a net and a giant tomahawk in a sling. Deluca has a large hunting knife tucked under his belt. Panagle holds a walking stick with a cluster of nails sticking out on the end of it. Nickleby, Izod, and Lazy-Eye all wear bows and quivers of arrows strapped to their backs. The wire-haired terrier strains at the end of a leash, sniffing down a foot-path.]

[Scout Master Ward speeds up the river in a small boat with an out-board motor. He gives orders over a walkie-talkie. Gadge steers.]

[Captain Sharp stands on the doorsteps of various big houses showing the snap-shot of the missing scout to: an elderly woman, a house-keeper, a group of children, a priest. They all shake their heads.]

[Captain Sharp drives his station wagon down a beach, through a field, and over a bridge.]

[EXT. BISHOP’S HOUSE. DAY]

[Captain Sharp stands at the front door talking with Mr. and Mrs. Bishop. Mr. Bishop holds a glass of red wine in one hand and an open bottle in the other. Mrs. Bishop looks slightly uneasy. They both study the snap-shot.]

MR. BISHOP: Camp Ivanhoe? That’s all the way across the other side of the island. You really think a twelve-year-old boy could row this far in a canoe?

CAPTAIN SHARP: Most likely not.

MRS. BISHOP: *with a shrug* It’s possible, Counsellor.

MR. BISHOP: *slightly irritated* I disagree, Counsellor. It’d take him three days, at least.

MRS. BISHOP: I don’t think so. Two days, maximum.

MR. BISHOP: Well, I’m not going to argue about it.

CAPTAIN SHARP: Be that as it may, will you let me know if you see anything unusual?

CUT TO: binocular shot of Captain Sharp from overhead as he walks away down the front steps. He passes Lionel, Murray, and Rudy on their way up the path. They wear wet bathing suits and towels around their shoulders. Captain Sharp pats Rudy on the top of his head. He dries his hand on the leg of his trousers. He gets into his station wagon, backs out of the driveway, circles through the woods, and drives around to a small dirt road a hundred yards behind the house. He stops the car. He gets out, sits on the hood, and lights a cigarette.

[Suzy watches from the widow’s walk with her binoculars. She lowers them. She looks curious. She raises them back to her eyes and sees:]

[Mrs. Bishop from overhead as she comes out the back door of the house carrying a basket of damp laundry. She pauses at a clothesline, looks left and right, then walks quickly into the trees. She crosses a foot-bridge and arrives at the dirt road. Captain Sharp stands up. They talk briefly but intensely. Mrs. Bishop leans against the car and stares into space. Captain Sharp touches her hair. Mrs. Bishop makes a gesture with her fingers. Captain Sharp hands her his cigarette. Mrs. Bishop takes a puff, hands it back, and strides away again through the woods. Captain Sharp gets into his station wagon and drives off.]

[INSERT:A portable night stand. There is a reel-to-reel tape recorder recording on it. A framed photograph next to it shows the Scout-Master-in-Chief posing with a troop in front of the Matterhorn.]

[INT. SCOUT MASTER WARD’S TENT. NIGHT]

[The front flaps are tied-open, and a mosquito net is drawn. A hanging lantern flickers on a hook. A bugle plays a variation of taps in the distance. Scout Master Ward sits on a cot dressed in pajamas. He smokes a cigarette and drinks a glass of brandy while he speaks tensely into a microphone:]

SCOUT MASTER WARD: Scout Master’s log. September second. First day of search party for Sam Shakusky. Morale is extremely low, in part, I suppose, because Sam is, unfortunately, the least popular scout in the troop, by a significant margin. I’m worried, and I’m confused. Please, let us find him tomorrow. Please, don’t let him fall off a cliff or drown in the goddamn lake or something. A terrible day at Camp Ivanhoe. Let’s hope tomorrow’s better. In fact, I’m going to say a prayer.

[Scout Master Ward presses stop. He kneels down on the floor, closes his eyes, presses his palms together, and whispers.]

[EXT. SCOUT CAMP. NIGHT]

[Scout Master Ward zips up his tent and turns off the light. Crickets chirp. Bats circle. The wire-haired terrier digs carefully through a pile of trash.]

[EXT. NARROW STREAM. DAY]

[The next morning. A fast current runs along a shallow ravine deep in the forest. The boy from the snap-shot rows a mini-canoe painted with Native American tribal symbols and severely over-loaded with boxes, bags, and blankets. He wears a pellet gun slung on a strap over his shoulder and his coon-skin cap. He smokes a pipe. A sash across his chest is decorated with numerous small, embroidered patches. There is a woman’s enamelled brooch pinned to his shirt. It is a jeweled, black scorpion. He whistles to himself quietly as he steers under a fallen tree-trunk and winds through gentle rapids. He is Sam.]

[EXT. RIVER BANK. DAY]

[An eddy under a willow tree. The end of the canoe is tied to a branch, and the cargo is stacked on the shore. Sam covers the boat with a camouflage net and dresses the top with pine-needles.]

[EXT. ROCKY GORGE. DAY]

[Sam hikes through a pass wearing an extremely large back-pack with stakes, metal poles, and two bed-rolls strapped to the bottom. He wears a compass on a string around his neck.]

CUT TO:A binocular shot of Sam emerging from the woods into a wide meadow. The grass comes up to his chest and flows in waves. He pauses to check his compass. He spins slowly one direction and then back the other while he stares at the dial. He looks up again. He walks onward. He stops.

[EXT. WIDE MEADOW. DAY]

[Suzy lowers her binoculars. She stands at the end of a path cut through the high grass. She has a leather folder in one hand, the portable record player in the other, plus a small suitcase and her kitten in a basket at her side. Sam takes his coon-skin hat slowly off his head. He strides across the meadow. Suzy watches him approach. She swallows. Her lips part. Sam comes onto the path. He stops ten feet away from Suzy.]

[Sam and Suzy stare at each other. Silence. (NOTE: Suzy is slightly taller than Sam.)]

INSERT:

[A poster box with St. Jack’s Church across the top. A purple-ink mimeographed page is stapled to a bulletin board inside under the heading Summer Pageant, 1964. It reads:]

Benjamin Britten’s

“Noye’s Fludde”
Performed by the
Choristers of St. Jack Wood and New Penzance

CUT TO:Dusk. A brick church at the top of a bluff overlooking the bay. It is overgrown with ivy and wisteria. There is a cemetery with a low wrought-iron fence. An organ plays inside.

[TITLE:One Year Earlier]

[INT. EPISCOPAL CHURCH. EVENING]

[A play is in progress. The set includes a long ark with a sail built on a platform behind the altar. Two teenagers crouched in the wings ripple a narrow, blue sheet across the foot of the stage. (This is meant to be water.) The rest of the room is dim, with tall candles flickering along the center aisle. The beams are draped with garlands. A large congregation fills every pew plus folding chairs against the walls. More people sit and stand on the steps to the choir loft at the back and in nooks and corners. The members of a brass ensemble seated beside the organist wait for their next cue, following their sheet music with instruments poised.]

[Khaki Scouts and scout masters occupy the rear section of the church. A very young troop in a slightly different version of the uniform fills a row near the exit. Sam sits on the aisle. He looks bored.]

[A baritone built like a linebacker in robes and a fake beard sings ominously on the stage. Cymbals crash. Sam stands up and discreetly wanders toward the side door with his hands in his pockets. A slight, forty-year-old man in the same uniform watches him from the end of the pew, frowning.]

CUT TO:Sam quietly entering the lobby. The sound of the music deadens as he gently shuts the door behind him. He turns around and puts on a yellow scout cap with Junior Khaki stitched on the bill. The room is jammed with children dressed as animals, waiting nervously in a long line that winds all around the space. They whisper and shuffle. A large woman stares through a small window into the church with her hand on a doorknob. She is Mrs. Lynn. She snaps her fingers suddenly without looking to the children. They fall silent. Pause.

[Mrs. Lynn swings open the center doors. Music fills the room again. The first twenty of the children begin to sing. They march out of the lobby, two by two. The woman closes the doors behind them, and the next group takes their place to wait.]

[Sam walks slowly among otters, monkeys, squirrels, and skunks, examining their costumes, periodically touching horns, tusks, and teeth. No one pays attention to him. He drinks a sip from a water fountain. He picks up a mint from a bowl and sucks on it. He slips out through a swinging door.]

[INT. DRESSING ROOM. EVENING]

[Sam moves down a dark corridor. Voices murmur. He pokes his head around a corner. A rack of choir robes and cassocks blocks his path. He slides two of them apart and looks through at:]

[Five eleven-year-old girls in black leotards sitting on a bench in front of a mirror framed with light bulbs. They talk quietly and fix their make-up. They all wear wings on their arms and beaks on their heads. Suzy sits among them in black feathers. Sam stares at her. He steps into the light silently. Suzy sees him in the reflection. The other girls turn around quickly, covering themselves.]

[Sam removes his cap and takes another step forward. His eyes dart briefly among the other girls. He says to Suzy:]

SAM: What kind of bird are you?

[Suzy hesitates. She looks to the girl next to her, who says in a bossy voice:]

BOSSY GIRL: I’m a sparrow, she’s a dove, and --

[Sam does not look away from Suzy as he interrupts, pointing:]

SAM: No, I said, “What kind of bird are you?”

[The other girls all look to Suzy. Pause.]

SUZY: I’m a raven.

[Suzy lifts her beak slightly higher on her forehead. The other girls look annoyed but transfixed. The bossy girl frowns.]

BOSSY GIRL: Boy’s aren’t allowed in here.

[Sam does not look away from Suzy as he answers quietly:]

SAM: I’ll be leaving soon.

[Sam points down at Suzy’s lap. One of her hands is wrapped in a bandage.]

SAM: What happened to your hand?

SUZY: *pause* I got hit in the mirror.

SAM: *taken aback* Really. How’d that happen?

SUZY: *shrugs* I lost my temper at myself.

[Sam is deeply intrigued by this. The other girls look puzzled. Suzy presses her hair back off her face. She watches Sam nervously.]

SUZY: What’s your name?

SAM: Sam. What’s yours?

SUZY: I’m Suzy.

[Sam nods with his eyes still glued to Suzy’s. Suzy bites her fingernails. The bossy girl rolls her eyes.]

BOSSY GIRL: It’s not polite to stare.

[Sam holds up his hand for the bossy girl to stop talking. Mrs. Lynn steps into the doorway.]

MRS. LYNN: Birds! Ready?

Mrs. Lynn does a double-take. She snaps at Sam:

MRS. LYNN: Who are you? Where’d you come from? Go back to your seat.

[Sam hesitates. He spits the mint into a trash can, ducks out through the clothing rack, and is gone. A skinny girl dressed as an owl watches Suzy while the other girls hurry to their feet. She says quietly:]

SKINNY GIRL: He likes you.

[EXT. CHURCH YARD. EVENING]

[Troops flood out from one side of the church while children in animal costumes flood out from the other. They criss-cross among grave-markers and head-stones. Sam stops abruptly, face to face with the skinny owl. She whispers something, points behind her, and thrusts a folded scrap of paper into Sam’s hand.]

[INT. SCHOOL BUS. NIGHT]

[A vehicle crowded with scouts. Sam sits alone in the back row. He stares into space, entranced.]

CUT TO:Suzy on-stage at the top of a pedestal with her arms in the air, spreading her wings. She is surrounded by the entire cast of singing animals. The music soars.]

CUT TO:Sam as he looks down at the piece of paper in his hand.

INSERT:A sheet of pink stationary with an address in a girl’s red felt-tip cursive and the words

[Write to me.]

CUT TO:The present. Sam and Suzy face each other in the wide meadow. Sam says carefully

SAM: Were you followed?

SUZY: *looking around* I doubt it.

SAM: Good.

[Sam frowns and squints. He points.]

SAM: Did you bring a cat?

[Suzy nods. Sam smiles. Suzy smiles. Sam takes a folded map out of his pocket. He signals for Suzy to come closer.]

SAM: Can you read a map?

SUZY: Uh-huh.

SAM: I do cartography.

[Sam points to one of the patches on his sash. It has a protractor embroidered on it. He unfolds the map.]

SAM: feel we should go halfway today and halfway tomorrow, since you’re a less experienced hiker, and you’re wearing Sunday-school shoes.

SUZY: OK.

SAM: *pointing on the map* Here’s where we are right now. I’d like to pitch camp here by sixteen-hundred *which means four o’clock*. How does that sound?

SUZY: Fine.

SAM: You want some beef jerky?

SUZY: OK.