Written On The Railroads

INT. BEDROOM. DAY.

A LITTLE GIRL, aged 8, lays awake in bed. It’s morning. No noise from the rest of the house.

She gets out of her bed and walks out of her room.

INT. HOUSE. CONTINUOUS.

She walks down the hall past her PARENTS’ room. They’re still asleep.

She walks down the stairs and goes into the KITCHEN.

INT. KITCHEN. CONTINUOUS.

The Little Girl walks to the refrigerator and pulls down a carton of orange juice. She takes a clean glass from next to the sink and pours some juice.

She puts the carton down, looks across the floor to notice BARKLEY, the family dog, dead on the kitchen floor.

She drops the glass and it shatters on the floor.

INT. LIVING ROOM. DAY.

MOM, DAD, and Little Girl, are in the living room. Mom comforts the Little Girl on the couch while Dad paces around the room.

DAD

I cannot believe this.

MOM

I know. I thought he had more time.

GIRL

Was he sick?

MOM

I don’t know honey.

GIRL

Then why did he die?

Little Girl sniffles a little.

DAD

He was just old sweetheart. That’s what old dogs do.

MOM

Really? Could we maybe hold off on one’s like that?

DAD

Sorry.

(beat)

Barkley’s in a better place now kiddo.

GIRL

He’s in a bag in the backyard.

DAD

Well, yeah sure he is but he’s going to be…

(beat)

I mean he’s already…

(beat)

He’s in a better place. Trust me.

MOM

So what do we do?

DAD

I don’t know. I’ve never dealt with anything like this.

(beat)

God I wish we were dealing with a goldfish or a hamster or something. Something we could flush down the toilet.

GIRL

You can’t flush a hamster down the toilet.

DAD

Do we take him to the dump? We can’t just put him in the trash.

GIRL

We have to bury him. I don’t want him to go to the trash.

DAD

We’re not going to put him in the trash sweetie but we can’t just bury him in the back yard.

MOM

We can’t?

DAD

Well I just don’t think it’s such a good idea. I’m not even sure it’s legal.

GIRL

We have to bury him! We have to bury him!

She crosses her arms keeps repeating herself until Dad relents.

DAD

Okay okay. We’ll bury him in the backyard under the old tree. 

(to Girl)

Is that okay? Will that make you feel better?

She nods, sniffles a little.

DAD (CONT’D)

Good. Now go on up to your room okay? 

She nods again. Goes upstairs to her room.

DAD (CONT’D)

This is so fucked.

MOM

You’re probably right you know, we really shouldn’t be burying a dead dog in the backyard.

DAD

We’re not going to. I mean, we’ll put him down there, then I’ll dig him up late tonight and take him to the dump. It’s the only sensible solution.

MOM

Gross.

DAD

You’re telling me.

EXT. BACK YARD. DAY.

Dad is digging a hole in the backyard under a tree.

Little Girl walks out into the back yard and watches as he digs out the last few shovelfuls of dirt and steps out of the hole.

She turns her eyes to Barkley, in a burlap sack against the base of the tree.

DAD

Come on sweetheart. I’m going to go wash up. Let’s go inside.

He walks into the house but she doesn’t follow.

She stands there staring at the sack. 

After a moment, she picks up a stick and walks over and pokes it a few times, with no response.

She sets the stick down and sits at the edge of the grave with her feet dangling over the side.

GIRL

(to Dog)

Sorry I poked you.

She digs around in the loose dirt with her fingers. 

After a moment, she looks up at the sack, hands still sifting through the dirt.

GIRL (CONT’D)

So, what’s it like in there?

(beat)

I was in never in a bag before. 

(beat)

I know you can’t answer cause you’re in heaven. And also cause you’re a dog. But I was wondering what it was like when you died. I mean for you.

(beat)

Were you sleeping? Or were you just being a dog and then you died? Were we all asleep? What time did it happen?

(beat)

I know you’re there in the bag but what happens now?

Little Girl finds a brightly colored lady bug hidden in the dirt.

She holds it up on the end of her finger for the burlap sack to see.

GIRL (CONT’D)

Did you ever see one of these?

(beat)

Some things are so small.

Just then, Dad yells from the house.

DAD

Get out of there kiddo. Come inside.

Little Girl shakes the lady bug off her hand, gets up and runs into the house.

INT. BEDROOM. DAY.

Little Girl sits on her bed. She places a tennis ball in a shoebox. The shoebox already contains: a dirty old stuffed dog toy, a chew bone, and several photographs.

She gets up and walks over to her dresser, on top of which sits a glass fishbowl with a gold fish swimming around in it.

She picks up the fishbowl and walks it cautiously into her bathroom.

IN THE BATHROOM

Little Girl holds the fishbowl and looks at the fish.

She then tips the bowl over the sink and carefully empties out all the water, leaving the fish flopping about at the bottom.

She watches as it slowly dies, then takes it in her hand and wraps it in toilet paper.

IN THE BEDROOM

Little Girl places the wrapped up fish in the shoebox then places the lid on top. 

She writes “For Barkley” in marker on the lid.

EXT. BACK YARD. DAY.

Mom, Dad, and Little Girl are standing along the gravesite, dressed in funeral clothes. The Little Girl has a paper grocery bag over her head with two holes cut for her eyes.

Barkley is already in the hole.

MOM

(to Girl)

Do you want to say something honey?

Little Girl shakes her head no. 

Mom turns to Dad, nods at him suggestively.

DAD

Okay, alright. Umm, let’s see.

(beat)

Well, I think we can all agree we lost a friend today. Barkley was 14 years old, in human years, which made him quite an old timer in dog years. We had him for most of the that, and as far as dogs being dogs he was great. He was the greatest. 

(beat)

Always there to say hello when you got home. Always there to watch TV with you or sleep on your feet. I’m sad to see Old Barkley go, but I think it’s safe to say he touched us all, and he’ll always be with us. In our backyard. 

Little Girl takes the bag off her head. Tears are rolling down her cheek. 

After a long moment she looks up at her mother.

GIRL

Do you think Barkley would want us to get a new dog?

MOM

We’ll talk about it after dinner.

Little Girl puts the bag back on her head, takes her Mother’s hand and watches as Dad fills the rest of the grave with earth. 

INT. ELEVATOR. NIGHT.

GEORGE, 50’s, runs into the elevator, followed closely by HARSUKH, a Sikh man in his 20’s.

George frantically pushes the button for the lobby.

A chorus of groans can be heard in the near distance.

The elevator door closes and starts heading down.

After a moment, George presses the emergency stop button.

They’re both trying to catch their breath. George wears jeans and army jacket, with an American flag shirt underneath, the words “Never Forget” blazoned across the front. Harsukh wears a worn in black suit and an orange turban.

George suddenly pulls a .44 Magnum from his jacket.

HARSUKH

Hold on, wait. Before you do anything, I’m a Sikh and an Indian.

GEORGE

I’m not going to shoot you.

HARSUKH

Oh.

GEORGE

You say you’re Indian. Where’s your accent?

HARSUKH

I was born in Brooklyn.

GEORGE

Of course you were.

HARSUKH

My name’s Harsukh.

GEORGE

George.

HARSUKH

It’s nice to meet you.

GEORGE

I gotta be honest with you, I don’t really like the look of you. Three weeks I might have acted differently regarding that, but right now what I’m concerned about is the gang of brain eatin’ zombies roaming around this building looking for us.

HARSUKH

Right.

(beat)

So, what do we do?

GEORGE

Wait. At least for now, give ‘em a chance to get interested in something else.

HARSUKH

And then what?

GEORGE

I don’t know.

Harsukh sits down in the corner.

HARSUKH

So what did you do, before, you know, it all fell apart?

GEORGE

I was a firefighter. Retired.

(beat)

What about you?

HARSUKH

I taught poetry at Columbia.

GEORGE

Wouldn’t have pegged you for that.

(beat)

How’s that poetry been coming in handy for you these last few weeks?

HARSUKH

I’m still alive.

GEORGE

Fair enough.

George sits down in the opposite corner. He takes a candy bar from his jacket, unwraps it, then breaks it in half, hands half to Harsukh.

HARSUKH

Thanks.

GEORGE

Sure.

(beat)

You said you’re a what now? A Sikh?

HARSUKH

Yeah.

GEORGE

And what do Sikhs believe?

HARSUKH

It’s not all that different from any other religion when you get right down to the basics. There’s a god, one god, and the point of life is to one day become one with him.

GEORGE

One god huh? I thought you guys had hundreds.

HARSUKH

That’s Hinduism. 

GEORGE

You guys believe in reincarnation?

HARSUKH

Yes.

GEORGE

Then if you just keep coming back again and again how do you ever become one with God?

HARSUKH

I don’t know. Live the right life I guess. 

GEORGE

The Sikhs have anything to say about zombies?

HARSUKH

Not that I know of.

GEORGE

All my life I believed in God, not that I was ever all that religious, but I believed. Then this happens and all I can think to myself is what the fuck?

HARSUKH

Tell me about it.

GEORGE

God really dropped the ball on this one.

(beat)

I’ve seen plenty of bad things happen in my life and I still believed, but I never thought I’d live to see the end of the world. That God, any God would let this happen.

HARSUKH

You think that’s what this is? The end of the world?

GEORGE

If it walks like a duck…

HARSUKH

I guess you’ve got a point there.

GEORGE

How many actual people you think are still alive in this city?

HARSUKH

Not many.

GEORGE

Not many. I can’t imagine it’s much better any other place.

HARSUKH

Did you know it’s New Years Eve? I completely missed Christmas.

GEORGE

You celebrate Christmas?

HARSUKH

Not really. Still a big day on the calendar though.

GEORGE

It’s funny, you know when I used to picture the end of the world I always figured it’d be guys look like you who’d be behind it. Nuclear holocaust, bioterrorism and what have you.

HARSUKH

Guess the zombies proved you wrong.

GEORGE

Guess the zombies proved me wrong.

HARSUKH

Did you ever wonder about…

GEORGE

Hold on. Ssshh.

George stands up, Harsukh quickly follows.

GEORGE (CONT’D)

Do you hear that?

NOTHING BUT SILENCE

HARSUKH

No.

GEORGE

I think they’re gone.

HARSUKH

Are you sure?

George strains to listen.

GEORGE

No.

INT. HOUSE. NIGHT.

IN A BEDROOM

ELOISE, late 30’s, is getting ready for a date.

Her son, JESSE, 9, follows her around as she puts herself together.

ELOISE

We can’t just keep going over this again and again.

JESSE

But why do you have to go out? It’s night time.

ELOISE

Sometimes grown ups need to go out at night.

JESSE

Where are you going?

ELOISE

I already told you, to dinner, with a friend.

JESSE

What friend?

ELOISE

Mr. Gates, from your school.

JESSE

He has too much hair on his face.

ELOISE

It’s called a beard, and some people like them.

JESSE

I know what a beard is.

ELOISE

Of course you do.

JESSE

Please don’t go.

ELOISE

Honey, I have to. I’ve already made plans.

His eyes start to well up with tears.

JESSE

Please…

ELOISE

Baby, what’s wrong? Where’s all this coming from?

JESSE

I just don’t want you to go.

ELOISE

It’s really not such a big deal. We can’t do this every time I have to go someplace without you.

JESSE

But what if something happens to you?

ELOISE

What’s going to happen to me?

JESSE

Like a car accident. Like that one we saw last Halloween when the cars exploded.

ELOISE

You shouldn’t think about things like that.

JESSE

I know those people died.

ELOISE

I’m not going to get in a car accident.

JESSE

How do you know?

ELOISE

I just know. I’ll drive carefully. Promise.

JESSE

But what if you just didn’t come back?

ELOISE

How could you ever even think something like that? I hate that I ever have to leave you at all.

JESSE

But my dad left.

ELOISE

Well, I’m not your dad.

JESSE

Why did he?

ELOISE

He wasn’t ready to be a father.

Jesse follows her into the bathroom.

IN THE BATHROOM

Eloise does her hair and make up.

Jesse pulls up a stool and stands next to her, looking in the mirror, examining his face with his fingers.

He turns to her, watches her apply eyeshadow.

JESSE

Do I look more like him, or you?

ELOISE

You’ve got my nose but those eyes definitely came from your father.

JESSE

What about the rest?

ELOISE

The rest is all yours.

JESSE

What do you mean, he wasn’t ready to be a father?

ELOISE

We’ve talked about this. When I told him we were going to have you I asked if he could promise he would always be there. He said he couldn’t so I told him it was better he leave.

JESSE

Why don’t you have any pictures of him?

ELOISE

I know you’re mad about that. I’m sorry. At the time I didn’t think…Sometimes when grown ups decide not to see each other anymore they get rid things like pictures that remind them of the other person. Because it makes them sad. Remembering makes them sad.

JESSE

But so you were ready to be a mother?

ELOISE

I’m here ain’t I?

She musses his hair jokingly.

Eloise walks back into the bedroom. Jesse hops off the stool and follows her into the living room.

IN THE LIVING ROOM

Eloise gathers her keys, purse, and phone.

She turns and sees Jesse standing there. His eyes start to well up again and he rushes toward her sobbing.

JESSE

Please, please, please don’t go. I’ll clean my room. I’ll be good now forever. 

ELOISE

You’re already good. You’re the best son a mother could ask for.

JESSE

Then why are you leaving?

ELOISE

I’m not leaving you. I’m leaving the house, and only for a little while. I’ll be back, I promise.

JESSE

Okay.

(beat)

When?