Moonrise Kingdom Scene 7

SUZY: Exactly.

SUZY: *pause* I know what you do with that sad, dumb police man. You go to bed with him.

[Mrs. Bishop looks stunned. She says quietly:]

MRS. BISHOP: He’s not dumb, but I guess he is kind of sad. Anyway, we shouldn’t discuss that. It’s not appropriate for me to even acknowledge what I already just said.

[Mrs. Bishop sees something sticking out of the leather folder. She pulls it out and stares at it. It is the “Coping with the Very Troubled Child” pamphlet. She looks to Suzy. Suzy looks away. Mrs. Bishop sighs deeply and says, on the verge of tears:]

MRS. BISHOP: Poor Suzy. Why is everything so hard for you?

[Suzy starts to cry. She covers her face. Her voice breaks as she says:]

SUZY: We’re in love. We just want to be together. What’s wrong with that?

[Mrs. Bishop puts her arms around Suzy. Suzy shakes, silently sobbing. Mrs. Bishop pulls some twigs and stems out of Suzy’s hair. She studies the beetle earrings. She says wearily:]

MRS. BISHOP: Oh, my God. How are we going to get these fish-hooks out?

[INT. AIRSTREAM TRAILER. NIGHT]

[Captain Sharp cooks sausages on a skillet in a kitchenette. He has a bottle of beer in his hand. Sam sits waiting at a fold-out table with a glass of milk in front of him. He says without looking up:]

SAM: I admit we knew we’d get in trouble. That part’s true. We knew people would be worried, and we still ran away, anyway -- but something also happened which we didn’t do on purpose. When we first met each other. Something happened to us.

[Captain Sharp stirs the sausages in the pan. He nods. He says seriously:]

CAPTAIN SHARP: I agree with you. That’s eloquent. I can’t argue against anything you’re saying -- but I don’t have to, because you’re twelve years old.

[Captain Sharp brings the skillet to the table and serves three links onto one plate and three onto another. He sits down.]

CAPTAIN SHARP: Look, let’s face it, you’re probably a much more intelligent person than I am. In fact, I guarantee it -- but even smart kids sometimes stick their fingers in electrical sockets, if you see what I mean. It takes time to figure things out. It’s been proven by history: all mankind makes mistakes. It’s our job to try to protect you from the dangerous ones. If we can.

[Captain Sharp pours an inch of beer into a glass and slides it over to Sam.]

CAPTAIN SHARP: You want a slug?

[Sam nods. He and Captain Sharp both drink sips. Captain Sharp asks gently and sincerely:]

CAPTAIN SHARP: What’s the rush? You’ve got your whole life in front of yourself. Ahead of you, I mean.

SAM: *shrugs* Maybe so. Anyway, you’re a bachelor.

CAPTAIN SHARP: *defensive* What does that have to do with it? So are you.

SAM: *sadly* That’s true. Did you love someone ever?

CAPTAIN SHARP: *pause* Yes, I did.

SAM: What happened?

CAPTAIN SHARP: She didn’t love me back.

SAM: Ah.

[Sam considers this. Captain Sharp looks depressed. They start eating their sausages. Captain Sharp says quietly:]

CAPTAIN SHARP: I’m sorry for your loss. Anyway, that’s what people say.

SAM: Thanks.

CAPTAIN SHARP: What happened?

SAM: A drunk truck driver smashed into them.

CAPTAIN SHARP: *pained* Good grief.

[Silence. Captain Sharp refills both their beer glasses.]

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

[Scout Master Ward sits on his cot in his pajamas again with a cigarette in his mouth. His tape recorder is recording. He says into the microphone:]

SCOUT MASTER WARD: Scout Master’s Log. September fourth.

[Scout Master Ward hesitates. He thinks for a minute. He takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes. He opens them again. He looks desperate. He looks up at the ceiling. He shakes his head. He presses stop. He kneels on the floor with his palms together and smokes.]

[There is a slight commotion outside. Scout Master Ward shouts:]

SCOUT MASTER WARD: Stow it, out there! I want to hear some Z’s!

[INT. TREE HOUSE. NIGHT]

[The fort sixty feet above the camp. It is still under construction. The entire troop (with the exceptions of Redford and Sam) has gathered for a clandestine meeting. They all wear pajamas. Skotak stands on a balcony with his back to the group and his hands on a wooden railing.]

GADGE: I heard he’s going to reform school.

DELUCA: I heard they’re going to take out a piece of his brain and send him to an insane asylum.

ROOSEVELT: I like his girl.

PANAGLE: She’s too scruffy for me.

NICKLEBY: Supposedly, they got to third base.

LAZY-EYE: That’s not true. He just felt her up.

ROOSEVELT: *deeply intrigued* Over-shirt or under-shirt?

[Skotak slams his fist on the railing. Everyone looks startled. Skotak turns around to face the group. He says angrily:]

SKOTAK: Damn us.

[The railing collapses behind Skotak, ripping part of a wall and a row of shingles off the structure as it falls away. There is a moment of silence before it hits the ground with a splintering thud. Skotak hesitates. He moves a half-step away from the edge. He continues:]

SKOTAK: This troop has been very shabby to Field Mate Sam Shakusky. In fact, we’ve been a bunch of mean jerks. Why’s he so unpopular? I admit, supposedly, he’s

[more]

SKOTAK: *cont'd* emotionally disturbed -- but he’s also a disadvantaged orphan. How would you feel?

[Skotak moves among the group, looking from face to face, as he asks:]

SKOTAK: Nickleby? Deluca? Lazy-Eye?

SKOTAK: *from the heart* Gadge?

[Skotak circles around the edge of the tree house. He says with feeling:]

SKOTAK: He’s a fellow Khaki Scout, and he needs our help. Are we man enough to give that? So part of his brain doesn’t get removed out of him.

[Skotak stands still. He says mysteriously:]

SKOTAK: They were prepared to die for each other out there.

[Silence. The other scouts begin to murmur to each other, shaking their heads, shrugging, whispering, and gesturing. Finally, Deluca looks up to Skotak.]

DELUCA: What do you need?

SKOTAK: *excited* For starters? Three yards of chicken wire, some ripped-up newspapers, and a bucket of wheatpaste.

[EXT. BISHOP’S HOUSE. NIGHT]

[A thick tree has been chopped almost completely through its trunk. For some reason, it remains standing. Mr. Bishop sits on the ground leaning against it. He breathes heavily. The axe rests across his lap.]

[A twig snaps. Mr. Bishop looks up, listening. Pause. He drinks a sip of wine.]

[In the background, on the other side of the lawn, five small silhouettes run silently in a row away from the house into the trees on the left. A moment later, one taller silhouette rides a bicycle silently away from the house into the trees on the right.]

[EXT. DIRT ROAD. NIGHT]

[Captain Sharp sits on the hood of his station wagon. Mrs. Bishop leans against it with her bicycle in front of her. They smoke cigarettes. Captain Sharp says sadly:]

CAPTAIN SHARP: In other words, it’s over.

MRS. BISHOP: I guess so. For the moment.

CAPTAIN SHARP: Until further notice.

MRS. BISHOP: That’s right.

CAPTAIN SHARP: I understand.

MRS. BISHOP: I’ve got to do better. For everybody.

CAPTAIN SHARP: Except me.

MRS. BISHOP: Except you.

CAPTAIN SHARP: *sincerely* Well, I hope you can. I think you will. You’re doing the right thing.

[Pause. Captain Sharp suddenly slides his hand inside Mrs. Bishop’s shirt onto her breast and simultaneously kisses her -- then just as suddenly gets into his car and starts the engine. Mrs. Bishop hesitates. She reaches inside the window and puts her hand on the top of Captain Sharp’s head. She says, worried:]

MRS. BISHOP: Who know what’s going to happen, Duffy? I’ll probably see you tomorrow.

CAPTAIN SHARP: *calmly* No, you won’t.

[Silence. The motor idles. Captain Sharp says distantly:]

CAPTAIN SHARP: I admire them, you know? There’s a purity to it. I only feel bad because they both seem like such unhappy, lonely, miserable people -- but maybe that’s romantic.

MRS. BISHOP: *puzzled* I don’t see it that way.

[Captain Sharp puts the car into gear and drives off. Mrs. Bishop finishes her cigarette. She gets on her bicycle and rides away.]

[INT. AIRSTREAM TRAILER. NIGHT]

[A burning match drops down into the fireplace near the foot of a bunk where Sam lies sleeping. He has the sheet pulled up to his chin, but his toes stick out. He opens one eye. Dust descends and settles. Something scrapes and scratches. The flame burns out.]

[Sam slides slowly off the mattress and creeps across the floor. He crouches in front of the fireplace. He flicks on a scout flashlight and sees:]

[The end of a hanging rope.]

[Sam leans quickly into the fireplace and looks straight up, shining his flashlight. Skotak is looking down at him from the top of the chimney. He puts his finger to his lips. Sam whispers sharply:

SAM: Get out of my chimney.

SKOTAK: Listen to me. We’re here for friendship. We’re going to get you off this island.

SAM: *long pause* No, thanks.

SKOTAK: Yes, thanks. This is an emergency rescue.

SAM: It’s worthless to me. There’s no point. Not without Suzy.

[Skotak gestures for Sam to wait. He disappears from view. A moment later, Suzy’s face appears at the top of the chimney, smiling toothily. Sam looks ecstatic.]

SAM: How’d you get here?

SUZY: They snuck me down the laundry chute and left a paper-maché dummy in my bed.

SAM: *impressed* Diversion tactics. Good thinking.

CUT TO: The next room. Captain Sharp sleeps in boxer shorts on the floor of the kitchenette in the dark. He snores quietly.

[EXT. ROUGH CHANNEL. NIGHT]

[Five mini-canoes race across a wide, choppy strait close to the open sea. Skotak, Deluca, Nickleby, Gadge, Lazy-Eye, Panagle, Roosevelt, Chef, and Izod paddle aggressively. We hear in voice-over:]

SAM *V.O.*: Where we going?

SKOTAK *V.O.*: Fort Lebanon. My cousin Ben runs the Supply and Resources outpost for the Jubilee. He’s a Falcon Scout, Legionnaire. Cousin Ben’ll know what to do.

SAM *V.O.*: Can we trust him?

SKOTAK *V.O.*: Normally, I’d say no.

[Sam and Suzy ride in the back of the canoe that Skotak rows. Sam has his arms around Suzy’s waist. The kitten is on her shoulder. Sam sees the portable record player among Suzy’s things.]

SAM: Did you leave another note for Lionel?

SUZY: Not this time. He can’t keep his trap shut. Besides, I’ll probably never see him again.

SAM: That’s true.

CUT TO: A pebble beach below high dunes. Large waves sweep into the shore. Spray blows through the air. There is a black lighthouse on a rocky point in the distance. The narrator stands at the water’s edge holding a meteorologist’s measuring stick. He braces himself against the gusting winds. He speaks to the camera:

NARRATOR: This is the island of St. Jack Wood, extending far north from Land’s End along the deep-water channel that leads to Broken Rock. A low flood-plain separates the beach from the town-ship above. A small but prosperous community.

[The narrator takes out a pocket barometer. He reads it. He says gravely:]

NARRATOR: The barometer reads twenty-seven inches and dropping. Strong winds, as you can see, already at twenty-two knots.

NARRATOR: *checks his watch* The time is now four thirty-five A.M.

[The narrator walks quickly out of the shot. The five canoes land on the beach with the tide. Sam, Suzy, Skotak, and the rest of the troop quickly jump out and drag the boats up the shore.]

[INT. BISHOP’S HOUSE. NIGHT]

[The room is black. Mr. and Mrs. Bishop lie in separate single beds side-by-side. They both stare at the ceiling. The windows rattle, the walls creak, and trees sway outside.]

[Long pause. Mrs. Bishop whispers:]

MRS. BISHOP: Did you file the motion for continuance? Peabody vs. Henderson.

MR. BISHOP: It was sustained.

MRS. BISHOP: Good.

MR. BISHOP: *pause* Did the judge consider your application for leniency? Rogers vs. Yentob.

MRS. BISHOP: He granted it.

MR. BISHOP: Great.

[Silence. Mrs. Bishop’s voice breaks as she says quietly:]

MRS. BISHOP: I’m sorry, Walt.

MR. BISHOP: It’s not your fault. Which injuries are you apologizing for? Specifically.

MRS. BISHOP: Specifically? Whichever ones still hurt.

MR. BISHOP: *wistfully* Half of those were self-inflicted.

[Mrs. Bishop shakes her head and smiles with tears on her face. A powerful blast of wind shakes the room. A night-light blinks. Mr. Bishop has a lump in his throat as he says:]

MR. BISHOP: I hope the roof flies off, and I get sucked up into space. You’ll be better off without me.

MRS. BISHOP: *sadly* Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

MR. BISHOP: *pained* Why?

[Mr. and Mrs. Bishop look across at each other in the dark. Mrs. Bishop says desperately:]

MRS. BISHOP: We’re all they’ve got, Walt.