Bitter Soil

EXT. OAK TREE - NIGHT

The screen remains black, a light wind whistling in the
distance.

MAN IN WHITE
You know your about to die?

MAN IN BLACK PANTS
Yessir.

A small, wiry black man, his bruised face and chest
glimmering with sweat, stands stoically.

He is about to be hung.

MAN IN WHITE
Do you have anything to say to
that?

MAN IN BLACK PANTS
Yessir.

The man in white simply leans his head to the side,
waiting.  His expression unseen beneath his white mask.

MAN IN BLACK PANTS
Fuck you.

The man's eyes flash.

Crack! The platform the young black man was standing upon is
kicked aside.

The rope snaps.

The black man struggles, teeth clenched in pain and fury.

The other slowly closes his eyes, glazed in demented
ecstasy, the shadow of his victim thrashing across his white
robe.



TITLE CARD

FADE IN

RICHARD HOUSEHOLD LIVING ROOM - DAY

YOUNG WIFE O.S.
I just don't understand momma.

MATRIARCH O.S.
Neither do I baby, neither do I. 
Sometimes...sometimes there just
isn't any understandin.

YOUNG WIFE O.S.
(her voice elevating but
fading)
This isnt the nineteenth century!
We are past this!  There is no...

A young child sits on the couch, his small faced slightly
pinched in thought.

CHILD V.O.
Something's not right.

The young boy glances towards the kitchen.  Tear filled
dialogue is distantly heard.

CHILD V.O.
Mommy is upset.  Where is Daddy? 
Daddy always comes when mommy is
upset.

Glancing towards the window, the toddler hears a car driving
up to the house.

CHILD V.O.
Maybe that's Daddy.

Walking steadily towards the window seat, the child manages
to climb up.

Looking out to the yard, he sees a patrol car.  A large man
is getting out of it.  He slams the door of the car, walking
towards the house and out of sight.

The child frowns again.

CHILD V.O.
(almost pleading)
Where is Daddy?

RICHARD HOUSEHOLD KITCHEN - DAY

A venerable black woman sits wearily at the table, her eyes,
however, remain fierce attentive, untainted by the wiles of
time. 

Head bowed over the kitchen sink, a young woman stands,
shoulders slumped under the sudden burden she bears.

Someone knocks at the door.

Again knocking is heard, louder this time.

Even louder, the knockin-

MATRIARCH
Are you going-

YOUNG WIFE
Yes!

Raising her head, eyes bleeding in resignation, the young
woman moves toward the door. Her hand rests on the handle as
the knocking continues.

The matriarch watches her, eyes unblinking.

Her eyes closed, the widow takes a deep breath, opening the
door and revealing the large patrol man, poised mid knock.

The young wife simply looks at him, not quite glaring.

PATROLMAN
Uh...uhh... are, are you Mrs., uh,
miss, uh, uh, Richard?

YOUNG WIFE
Yes.

The child comes in, peeping around the arch leading into the
living room.

PATROLMAN
I thought, uh, I though, I would
stop by.  To, uh, check, uh, see
how you're doing.

The young woman simply raises an eyebrow.

MATRIARCH O.S.
Well let him in Beatrice.

Beatrice walks back into the house, the patrolman following,
quite embarrassed.

The child follows the large man with his eyes.

Beatrice pours a cup of coffee, thrusting it into the
patrolman's hands, and then sits down, taking the last chair
in the room.

An awkward silence ensues. 

The child continues to stare at the man.

PATROLMAN
Well... I, uh -

YOUNG WIFE
Do you have any information
regarding my husband's killer!

PATROLMAN
(flustered)
Um, wel-

MATRIARCH
Beatri-

YOUNG WIFE
Well do you?

PATROLMAN
No Miss Richard.  I'm afraid we
stil-

YOUNG WIFE
Why the hell are you here?

MATRIARCH
Beatrice! Excuse her officer she-

PATROLMAN
No, its ok. I'm sure your all under
a great deal of stress.  I was j-

YOUNG WIFE
You don't care.

The poor man looks on, muted.

YOUNG WIFE
None of you care.  He's a black
man.

The officer merely goggles.

The old woman gets up, coming around to comfort, and quiet,
the distraught younger woman.

MATRIARCH
I'm sure the police are doing
everything in their power to take
care of this.  Aren't you officer?

PATROLMAN
Ye, yes.  We have every man we can
spare out and -

YOUNG WIFE
Spare?

The matriarch looks at the patrolman, hard.

YOUNG WIFE
You mean you don't have every man
on the force working on this?

PATROLMAN
Well, Miss Richard, there, there is
only so much we can do.  Eh,
especially in a case like this.
There is, ah, only so many we -

YOUNG WIFE
When Jay Jones' boy got lost in the
woods, you had every man and his
dog out there.

PATROLMAN
M, Miss Richard.  This, this is
differen-

YOUNG WIFE
Get out!

The child jumps.

The young woman gets up.

PATROLMAN
M, miss Rich-

YOUNG WIFE
Get out! 

The man hastily exits.

The young wife slowly falls to the floor, tears held back
too long begin to flow.

YOUNG WIFE
You miserable bastard.

Face crunching, the matriarch falls to the floor around her
daughter, letting the girl fall back against her.

YOUNG WIFE
Momma! Momma!

YOUNG CHILD V.O.
Where is daddy?

FADE OUT

CHURCH, BACKROOM - DAY

A younger black man takes care of the child, helping him put
on his jacket.

YOUNG MAN
Don't you look fine.

The young child just looks up, not returning the young man's
smile.

The young man begins to tie the child's tie, no longer
smiling.

YOUNG MAN
Keep your chin up.  There yo-

The door slams open, the young wife storming in.

YOUNG MAN
What in the he-

YOUNG WIFE
That man is here!

YOUNG MAN
What man?  What are you tal-

YOUNG WIFE
The sheriff.  The one that came to
my house.  The white man Terrence.

YOUNG MAN
So?

YOUNG WIFE
So!?  So!?  His kind killed my -

YOUNG MAN
His kind!?

The young woman stops, shocked at his change in tone.

YOUNG MAN
He's white Beatrice!  He's not the
man that killed your husband!

Beatrice glares at him, tears in her eyes.

YOUNG MAN
 Don't blame all your problems on
"his kind."  He didn't do a thing
wrong.

YOUNG WIFE
How can you say that?

The young man simply looks at her questioningly.

The young child stares at the wall, detached, emotionless.

YOUNG WIFE
You don't even care about him do
you?

YOUNG MAN
Who?

YOUNG MAN
My husband!

Terrence just shakes his head.

YOUNG MAN
I would kill him Beatrice.  If the
man that killed John were here, I
would kill him.  But he isn't.

The young man puts on his own coat, looking at the young
widow -

YOUNG MAN
I'm not going to blame innocent men
for crimes they didn't commit.

- and walks out the door, slamming it behind him.

The young child starts at the sudden noise, turning to his
mother, crouched on the floor, breathing heavily.

YOUNG CHILD V.O.
Where is daddy?

FADE OUT

EXT. GRAVEYARD - DAY

A large crowd gathers around the great new scar in the
earth.

The patrolman stands behind the wrought iron gates, looking
forward with a forlorn expression.

The young wife walks along the small green carpet of thin
artificial grass, taking her place in front of the crowd,
the young child wrapped protectively in her frail arms.

Turning the patrolman, slowly leaves.

Sitting, the young wife, putting on a stoic mask.

A single tear betrays her, slowly traveling down her face,
hanging to her jaw dropping -

- onto a the steering wheel.

The patrolman starts the car, teeth set.

He remains there, idling.

The silence stretches on amongst the crowd.

Two men plunge shovels into the mound of fresh soil.

The minister steps up, looking into the crowd.

Dirt hits the top of the coffin with a dull thud.

MINISTER
We gather here today amidst this
tragedy, to remember a great man. 
A great husband.  A great father. 
We gather here today to remember -

The patrol car drives out of the parking lot.

MINISTER
It is here we bear witness to yet
one more tragedy amidst many.

Thud.

MINISTER
The wounds our people bear are
deep.

Thud.

MINISTER
We cannot forget them.

Thud.

MINISTER
We will not forget them.

Thud.

MINISTER
And do not fret my brothers.

Thud.

MINISTER
My sisters.

Thud.

MINISTER
God knows of our suffering.

Thud.

MINISTER
We will be rewarded for it.

Thud.

YOUNG CHILD V.O.
Where is daddy?

A wail is heard.

Thud!

YOUNG CHILD V.O.
Where is daddy?

Men in uniform raise their rifles.

Thud!

Bang!

YOUNG CHILD V.O.
Where is daddy?

The young woman walks to the edge of the hole.

The young child holds a white carnation in his hand.

Thud!

Bang!

The child lets go, letting the flower fall.

A clump of dirt lands, the sound soft and distant.

The flower hits soon after, white petals flying apart with a
distant bang.

YOUNG CHILD V.O.
(whispering)
Where is daddy?