The Wind Rev1st Draft 080717

UNTITLED WESTERN
Screenplay by
Alan Munro
Revised 1st Draft: August 07, 2017
Moving Target
24025 Park Sorrento
Suite 280
Calabasas, CA 91302
310.394.0110
Contact: Brian Jochum
WGAw Registered: 1907803

FADE IN:
1 DAWN 1
A blush of pink appears along a low flat horizon.
Comes the sun, turning gentle blush to rich gold, and slowly
the world becomes visible.
But look where you may there is nothing — only CLOUDLESS SKY
and FEATURELESS SAND. As much nothing as you’ve ever seen.
The first breath of WIND arrives carrying with it a SOFT

VOICE whispering a soft secret:
LETTY (V.O.)
The wind was the cause of it all.
The sand, too, had a share in it,
and human beings were involved, but
the wind was the primal force.
It begins its work, this primal force, carving faint patterns

into the sand.
LETTY (V.O.)
This all happened years ago in West
Texas before the great ranges were
cut into farms, when there was
nothing to temper the winds, when
the sand blew in blinding fury or
multiplied in mocking waves or
piled in pyramids that fickle gusts
removed as quickly as were erected.
Ripples, twists, swirls, and spirals. Sand patterns divide

and propagate — patterns on top of patterns, patterns within
patterns — telling stories in a language we cannot decipher,
erasing them, starting over.
LETTY (V.O.)
Even if you knew the winds of West
Texas today it would mean little,
for they are not as they were.
Civilization has changed them, has
tamed them, as the vaqueros gentled
the wild mustangs of long ago. Man,
by building houses, by stretching
fences and making green things
grow, has not just broken the sweep
of the winds, he has broken their
spirit.
Quick as they were born the winds die away.

2.
LETTY (V.O.)
But long ago it was different. The
winds were wild and free — and more
powerful than human beings.
Away far off something is silently stirring up a SMALL

CYCLONE OF DUST.
LETTY (V.O.)
Back then, among the wild horses of
the plains there would be one mare,
fleet and strong and cunning, that
could never be trapped by man, that
never felt the sting of the spur —
a lead mare that raced over the
prairies at will, uncaptured and
uncapturable. A being forever free.
Breaking the quietude: A loud metallic CLANK followed by the

CLICK-CLACK of iron wheels on iron rails.
We are on the move, as if on a train. Slow, to begin.
CLICK-CLACK, CLICK-CLACK.
Our original grim vista slides out of view and is replaced

rather magically by rich GREEN PASTURES and ROLLING HILLS.
CLICK-CLACK, CLICK-CLACK. Picking up speed.
This green vista is replaced by an OCEAN OF YELLOW WHEAT.
CLICK-CLACK, CLICK-CLACK. Faster still.
Next comes an ORCHARD aflame with RED CHERRIES, followed by

APPLE BLOSSOMS OF BLINDING WHITE.
CLICK-CLACK, CLICK-CLACK.
Letty’s Voice rejoins us repeating a single word to the

regular rhythm of the rails:
LETTY (V.O.)
Sweetwater, Sweetwater,
Sweetwater...
Her voice is younger now and more insistent — a wishing

voice.
NEW PROSPECTS appear and disappear in ever accelerating

succession, each more breathtaking than the last.
3.
LETTY (V.O.)
Sweetwater...
ABRUPTLY WE SWEEP INTO A TUNNEL. IN THE BLACKNESS, REFLECTED

ON THE WINDOW GLASS: A face innocent as an Eden sunrise.
CUT TO:
2 INT. PULLMAN PASSENGER CAR - DAY 2
Here sits LETTY MASON.
LETTY
Sweetwater...
She is slight, almost childish despite her eighteen years.

Her high-necked black dress undoubtedly looks too formal to
the modern eye but it’s proper fashion for 1886.
Her Sweetwater chant trails off and Letty’s blue eyes wander
from the window to the interior of the rail car.
As you’d expect there are two rows of red plush seats and
between them, overhead, kerosene lamps which sway to the
tempo of the train. At the far end an IRON STOVE is tended by
a bushy-haired CONDUCTOR.
Aside from Letty there are a half-dozen other PASSENGERS —

all men, all Stetson-topped, except for one derby whose owner
is hidden behind the late edition of the DALLAS NEWS.
The train has emerged from the tunnel and Letty wants to see
what new splendors are on offer.
OUTSIDE, things are decidedly less magical:
The dominant color is gray. The trees which stretch on

forever along the track are scraggly and unkempt and they
aren’t planted in rows but scattered with lawless abandon.
As the Conductor makes his way up the aisle Letty tugs at his
sleeve.
CONDUCTOR
Yes, miss?
LETTY
Why don’t these people put fences
round their peach orchards?
4.
The Conductor’s caterpillar eyebrows crinkle up in utter

confusion. He double-triple-quadruple-checks out the window.
CONDUCTOR
Peach orchards, miss?
A LOUD CHORTLE erupts from behind the Dallas News.
DALLAS NEWS (O.S.)

Those are mesquite trees, silly
girl. They grow wild.
Other passengers join in the LAUGHTER.
Letty’s cheeks redden.
The Dallas News is lowered, revealing WIRT RODDY — primped,

pomaded, and Lucifer handsome — his face all lit up in a
white-toothed grin until he clocks Letty’s embarrassment.
WIRT
Ah, don’t trouble, miss. I was just
funnin’. You know what? They do
look like peach trees. I’ve heard
lots of folks say the same thing.
LETTY
Have you really?
WIRT
No.
A new round of LAUGHTER, only this time Letty LAUGHS too.
To Wirt that’s an invitation. Lickety-split he’s down the

aisle and slithered up into the seat opposite Letty.
He offers his hand.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Wirt Roddy.
LETTY
Letty Mason.
They shake.
WIRT
Goin’ far?
LETTY
Sweetwater. Do you know the place?
Wirt cringes, nods yes.

5.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Do tell me about it. Is there a
little silver river or a creek or
perhaps even a pond covered in
white-petaled lilies...
WIRT
Excuse me, miss, I don’t...
LETTY
The water Sweetwater gets its name
from. What sort of water is it?
WIRT
You sure have pink-ribboned
fancies, Miss Letty.
By Letty’s quizzical face she hasn’t quite understood.
WIRT (CONT’D)
How ‘bout a bargain? I’ll tell you
about Sweetwater but first you tell
me about where you call home.
Letty nods assent.
LETTY
Home is a town in Virginia you
never heard of. It’s a house not so
big, but with a wide porch out
front to watch the sunset.
Under the powerful spell of her own words, LETTY’S VIEW out
the train window transforms into the VIRGINIA COUNTRYSIDE.
LETTY (CONT’D)
It has vines — blackberries,
Virginia creepers, red bugles — all
filled with love and charity.
WIRT
Charity?
LETTY
They cover up the dead ugly things
and make them graceful. And the
daisies, acres of them, nodding at
you, telling you to come play. And
pine trees standing on tiptoe to
peek into Heaven. And magnolias.
You can write your name on a
magnolia leaf in springtime and
still read it in the fall.
6.
IN LETTY’S DREAM VIEW: A young hand scratches L-E-T-T-Y into

a large waxy leaf.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Now tell me about Sweetwater. And
please tell me there are magnolias.
Letty’s eyes are clamped tight, blinded by the pain and joy
of memory.
WIRT
I can’t.
Letty slumps into her seat.
WIRT (CONT’D)
This country ain’t for you, little
lady. Go back home — while the
going’s good.
LETTY
I haven’t anything to go back to.
WIRT
Nothing whatever?
LETTY
Momma was all I had. When she died,
everything died with her.
WIRT
You got kin in Sweetwater?
LETTY
My Cousin Beverley owns a ranch. He
wasn’t sure I’d like it, but I
thought a change would do me good.
WIRT
Sweetwater will be a change all
right. A helluva change. What’d you
say your cousin’s name is?
LETTY
Beverley. Beverley Mason.
WIRT
Why sure, Bev Mason. Yessiree,
Bev’s a good hombre. Only he don’t
live in Sweetwater.
LETTY
But his letter...
7.
WIRT
Out here a man can live a hundred
miles from his postmark. Bev’s
ranch must be twenty miles from
Sweetwater. Got an outfit in those
parts, myself, but I live in Fort
Worth. Couldn’t hog-tie me to stay
year round out there.
LETTY
Is it that bad?
WIRT
It’s no place for a pretty girl.
LETTY
Why is that?
WIRT
The wind.
Despite the steel in Wirt’s voice, Letty simply can’t believe

he’s serious.
LETTY
The wind is everywhere.
WIRT
The Devil is everywhere, Miss
Letty, but that don’t mean I’d
choose to live in Hades.
LETTY
It’s not what I’d choose either. I
just don’t have a choice.
WIRT
Maybe ya do. How’s about comin’
back to Fort Worth with me. I’ll
fix up somethin’ for ya.
Letty’s eyes hold fear of the future but no fear of Wirt.
LETTY
Oh, I couldn’t impose. Besides
Cousin Bev is expecting me.
From his breast pocket Wirt takes a POWDER BLUE ENVELOPE and
passes it over.
WIRT
Take this. It’s got my name and
address so you can write me if ever
you change your mind.
8.
Letty reads the envelope’s very frilly feminine script:
LETTY
“Mr. Wirt Roddy. Fort Worth,
Texas.”
Tucked inside the envelope is a letter. Before Letty can read

it Wirt snatches it away, cracks the window and tosses it
outside.
WIRT
Nuthin’ of interest. It’s from...
uh, my grandma.
Letty runs the empty envelope under her nose.
LETTY
Gardenias.
WIRT
Granny’s favorite.
LETTY
Such pretty handwriting, too. I
think people reveal a lot by their
handwriting.
WIRT
I sure hope not.
Letty shuts her eyes, smiles.
WIRT (CONT’D)
You okay?
LETTY
I’m picturing a small mahogany desk
set under a window. A gentle white-
haired woman is penning a letter to
her favorite grandson.
Wirt CHUCKLES with delight and amazement.
WIRT
I never met anyone so full of
dreams.
CUT TO:
3 EXT. TEXAS PRAIRIE - DAY 3
Alongside the track there’s what’s left of the CARCASS of a

STEER — bleached ribs poking through a rotted hide.
9.
In the unfenced pasture beyond, grazing on dead bunch-grass

are a few dozen LONGHORN CATTLE — gaunt creatures that stop
feeding to gaze at their iron enemy.
As the TRAIN passes its whistle lets out a SHRILL HOOT.
CUT TO:
4 INT. PULLMAN PASSENGER CAR - DAY 4
(O.S.) A dull THUD.
Letty’s eyes go wide in horror.
LETTY
Dear God in Heaven!
LETTY’S WINDOW VIEW: A COW staggers along the track, one hind
leg hanging broken, its haunches covered in blood.
WIRT
Train hit ‘er.
LETTY
We must stop.
WIRT
Don’t be silly. Happens all the
time. These critters ain’t worth
much.
LETTY
So we leave her to die by small
degrees in all that loneliness.
Wirt slides the window open.
WIRT
Train’s slowed.
From inside his jacket he draws a SHORT-BARRELED .44

REVOLVER, presents it to Letty handle first.
WIRT (CONT’D)
If ya wanna put the critter outta
her misery you’re welcome to try.
Letty recoils in disgust.
LETTY
I’ve never fired a gun in my life.
10.
WIRT
That’ll change. Stay out here long
enough and you’ll learn to kill
things. Ev’rbody does.
Wirt holsters his piece, nudges the window shut.
WIRT (CONT’D)
That’s the way life is out here.
Letty leans her head onto the window; all the color is
draining from her face.
WIRT (CONT’D)
You’re not lookin’ too bright-eyed,
Miss Letty. When did you eat last?
LETTY
I don’t remember.
WIRT
Well, that won’t do. Hold on.
From his coat pocket Wirt fishes out a small RED APPLE.
LETTY
I’m not hungry.
WIRT
That don’t matter. Here. Eat up.
I’ll join you.
He presses it into Letty’s hand and pulls another APPLE from

the same pocket. Wirt takes a big juicy bite.
WIRT (CONT’D)
De-licious.
With loud SMACKS Wirt kisses the juice off his fingers then
relaxes into his seat, crossing his leg. For the first time
Letty notices Wirt’s flashy COWBOY BOOTS.
Wirt notices that Letty notices.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Beautiful, ain’t they.
LETTY
Never seen the like. Alligator?
WIRT
Rattlesnake.
That causes Letty to examine her apple a bit more carefully.

11.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Oh, don’t worry, little Eve, I
ain’t no serpent. And for sure you
won’t find any tree of knowledge
growin’ in these parts.
Reluctantly Letty takes a bite. This pleases Wirt no end.
CUT TO:
5 EXT. TEXAS PRAIRIE - SUNSET 5
Directly overhead is a dome of purest blue with wind-blown

clouds touched by all imaginable rainbow hues.
Far to the west, where the earth meets the sky, the sun
spreads its rays upward and outward into the heavens.
The train seems puny and frail beneath all this majesty.
CUT TO:
6 INT. PULLMAN PASSENGER CAR - SUNSET 6
Letty’s face is aflame with orange light. She catches her

breath in wonder, all troubles momentarily forgotten.
As for Wirt, he’s enjoying a different view
CUT TO:
7 EXT. TEXAS PRAIRIE - NIGHT 7
The early dark of winter has come on and the gray grasses are
bent low in the sweep of the wind.
CUT TO:
8 INT. PULLMAN PASSENGER CAR - NIGHT 8
A gentle hand rouses Letty from her curled-up kitten sleep.
CONDUCTOR
We’re coming in to Sweetwater,
miss. You’ll have to be off pronto,
the train don’t stop here but a
few ticks.
12.
Overhead on the luggage rack is her HAT, CLOAK, and VALISE.

It’s a tall stretch for someone Letty’s size.
WIRT
Allow me, Miss Letty.
Wirt, himself half-asleep, collects Letty’s things.
From her valise Letty retrieves a small ORNATELY-FRAMED OVAL

MIRROR so she can tidy up.
LETTY
Is this your station too?
WIRT
No, I’m going on to Colorado City
but I’d be honored to see you off.
OUTSIDE, sliding into view is THE SWEETWATER STATION SIGN

barely legible thanks to the wind and sand.
CUT TO:
9 EXT. SWEETWATER TRAIN STATION - NIGHT 9
Wirt jumps down then helps Letty onto the wooden platform.
Immediately THE WIND knifes at her with a mad malevolence.

Letty staggers and would fall if not for Wirt’s stout arms.
Letty shivers at Wirt’s touch; Wirt is delighted.
Pulling herself free Letty darts her eyes in every direction

desperate for any sign of Cousin Beverley.
But there’s only Wirt, the Conductor, and at the far end of
the platform a ROUGH-LOOKING HOMBRE in a DUSTER.
Once more the wind SHRIEKS, catching Letty in its icy grip.
LETTY
Bev’s not here, he’s not here.
Round and round Letty spins, partly from confusion, partly

from the force of the wind.
Tears stain her already dusty face.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Not here, not here...
Abruptly Letty stops; she hears something:

13.
The JANGLE of big-roweled spurs.
That Rough-Looking Hombre is ambling in her direction. His

name, we’ll soon learn, is LIGE HIGHTOWER.
At a respectable distance Lige stops, pulls the kerchief off

his face, tips his broad-brimmed hat.
LIGE
Excuse me, ma’am, you wouldn’t be
Bev Mason’s cousin would ya?
LETTY
Yes, yes. Oh God, where’s Bev?
LIGE
Home, waitin’. He ask me to bring
ya out.
Wirt tries to take command.
WIRT
And who might you be?
The only response Wirt gets is a single slow-blink — as a

bobcat would dismiss his prey — before Lige addresses Letty.
LIGE
As it happens, ma’am, I’m Lige
Hightower.
WIRT
Why didn’t you speak up before?
Again Lige addresses only Letty:
LIGE
Bev said as how you’d be alone. So
of course I thought it wasn’t you.
Wirt’s grin is fading, his fists are clenched, his knuckles

stretched white.
Letty, despite her frayed nerves, tries to diffuse the

situation.
LETTY
This gentleman... he... he just
helped me off the train.
If Lige is the least bit intimidated by Wirt it doesn’t show

— his stance is sure and easy.
The Conductor steps over.

14.
CONDUCTOR
Ya comin’, Roddy?
WIRT
Hold the train a pair a damn
minutes will ya.
CONDUCTOR
Like hell I will.
The Conductor signals THE ENGINEER with his LANTERN.
CONDUCTOR (CONT’D)
Knock on it!
His attentions return to Letty.
CONDUCTOR (CONT’D)
No reason to trouble, Miss Letty,
not with Lige Hightower to look
after ya.
After a reassuring grin the Conductor makes for the train.
LIGE
He’s right, ma’am. Nuthin’ out here
to be skeered of.
Lige reaches past Wirt as if Wirt isn’t there and picks up

Letty’s valise.
With a loud CLANK the train lurches forward.
The Engineer gives a large BLAST on the WHISTLE.
Letty offers Wirt her hand.
LETTY
Thank you for all your courtesy.
WIRT
This ain’t goodbye, Miss Letty, not
by a damn sight. I’m coming back to
see ya. Yessiree, I’m coming
whenever it suits me.
Wirt kisses Letty’s hand then chases after the train, hopping
onto the bottom step of the last car. He gives a final wave
goodbye before he climbs inside.
Letty keeps on waving — after Wirt has disappeared, even

after the train has vanished into the night. She keeps on
waving when there is only blackness and the wind.
15.
Never has Letty been so cold.
LIGE
We best be goin’, ma’am.
Shoulders stooped, Letty trails after Lige toward the

BUCKBOARD parked at the edge of the Station platform.
When she steps off the platform her high-button shoes sink to
their ankles in the soft sand.
Letty is stuck — and the harder she tries to unstick herself

the more stuck she gets.
Lige notices Letty’s predicament — but too late.
A big wind gust PLOPS Letty flat on her rear end.
Lige makes a survey of the wreckage.
There sits Letty in a big messed-up heap. She puts out her
hand so Lige can pull her up.
LIGE (CONT’D)
I reckon this’ll be easier.
Instead of taking her hand Lige cradles her up, swings her
over his head and drops her like a sack of meal into the
buckboard’s unpadded seat.
Letty rubs her behind, hisses through clamped teeth:
LETTY
Thank you.
Sarcasm is lost on Lige.
LIGE
Yer welcome.
She tries to make herself comfortable but the buckboard is

tired and weather-worn — as is the GRAY MARE it’s hitched to.
(O.S.) A LOUD NICKER.
There’s another horse roped to the tailgate — a spirited

YELLOW PONY.
LETTY
What a beautiful animal.
16.
LIGE
That’s SANDSTORM, my best friend
out here — except maybe for
Sourdough.
LETTY
Sourdough. He’s the other horse?
LIGE
Sourdough is my business partner.
We run our herds together. You’ll
meet him soon enough.
Lige drops Letty’s valise in the wagon bed, tugs on his

LEATHER GLOVES.
Sandstorm NICKERS again.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Gimme two shakes, boy.
Lige hops back onto the platform, ducks inside the STATION
HOUSE and re-emerges holding a BRICK which he passes gingerly
from hand to hand.
He drops the brick onto the wagon’s toe board.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Rest your feet on that, Miss Letty.
It’s been heatin’ on the stove.
From the wagon bed, Lige gathers up a big BUFFALO ROBE and
throws it over Letty’s legs. It’s covered in sand some of
which gets in Letty’s eye.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Sorry ‘bout that.
Worse than the sand is the powerful stench coming from the
buffalo robe. It’s all Letty can do to keep from heaving.
LIGE (CONT’D)
I reckon it ain’t been cleaned in
awhile. Come to think it ain’t been
cleaned ever. But it’ll keep ya
warm all right.
Lige hoists himself onto the bench alongside her. Letty

scoots down to the far end.
Lige gives his own shirt a sniff.

17.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Lots of things ain’t been cleaned
lately, I reckon.
Letty smiles that innocent smile of hers — and scoots herself

halfway back towards Lige.
Lige takes a TINY STONE from his pocket and throws it at the
Old Gray’s scrawny rump.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Come on, ANNIE, make tracks.
The buckboard rattles down the road.
CUT TO:
10 EXT. LAMAR STREET, SWEETWATER - NIGHT 10
Even darkness can’t disguise this straggly collection of rude

unpainted wooden boxes called Sweetwater — but it’s shadowy
enough to let Letty cling to her dreams.
LETTY
I wish it was daylight so I could
see Sweetwater better.
LIGE
Daytime don’t make it prettier.
LETTY
But I’ve thought so much about it.
Do you have a river here or is it a
lake?
LIGE
Ma’am?
LETTY
Sweetwater, you know.
Lige CHUCKLES.
LIGE
No ma’am, nuthin’ like a river
round here. I reckon first settlers
named this spot Sweetwater cuz
there ain’t no water.
LETTY
No water...
18.
LIGE
Names is like dreams, Miss Letty.
Mostly they go contraries to real
life.
They’ve reached the edge of town but the wagon keeps going
straight off into the big black nowhere.
FADE TO BLACK:
(O.S.) The lazy CLIP-CLOP of HORSE’S HOOVES
FADE IN:
11 EXT. NO NAME PRAIRIE - DAWN 11
Letty is jostled awake.
Not much has changed from the night before:
Annie still pulls leisurely along the bumpy trail, Sandstorm

lopes behind.
As for Lige, he’s tied the reins to his boot — not asleep but
not exactly awake either.
Like Sweetwater, Lige isn’t prettier in daylight. For a fella

not out of his 20s his skin is wrinkled and leather-tough.
His shirt is homespun, his dollar Levis are patched, his
leather boots are cracked from the sun.
Smell or no, Letty pulls the buffalo robe higher. The wind-
blasts of the night have abated but there’s enough breeze
leftover to make it plenty uncomfortable.
On the plus side the cold atmosphere is so clear Letty can

see astonishing distances.
But there is only sand in endless waves forming a vast sea

with bent-over dead grass acting as the curling foam.
Lige stirs, lifts his hat to check the angle of the sunrise
then reins in Annie.
LIGE
Whoa, lady.
After jumping down he reaches out to Letty.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Annie needs a rest. You should
stretch your limbs.
19.
Before Letty can answer Lige has her planted onto the sand.
Where they’ve stopped there’s the barest REMNANT OF A HOUSE —

a few ROTTED TIMBERS and some CRUMBLING ADOBE BRICKS.
LETTY
What is this place?
LIGE
Ain’t got a name I know of.
LETTY
Who lived here?
LIGE
Nobody remembers. Scalded out by
Comanches maybe or more likely just
up and quit. Whoever it was they’re
just dust now.
CUT TO:
12 EXT. NO NAME PRAIRIE - MORNING 12
Annie and Sandstorm contentedly munch on some grass.
Letty makes herself a comfortable spot out of the wind. As

she rearranges some adobe bricks she finds a name, almost
worn away, scratched into a rock: L-I-Z-Z-I-E.
Lige appears with a CANTEEN and a TIN CUP. He fills the cup,
passes it over.
LETTY
Tell me about Cousin Bev.
Lige takes a drink himself careful not to touch his lips to

the canteen.
LIGE
Bev? Everybody likes Bev. Hasn’t
had the best of luck at ranchin’
but he’s a man all right.
LETTY
I loved him when I was a little
girl. He was so courtly and
handsome.
That earns a CHUCKLE.
LIGE
He’s changed some.
20.
LETTY
He left Virginia when I was a
child. Had to move here for the
drier weather on account of his
lungs. I wrote him after Momma
died. He said to come on down, that
I could teach his little girl.
LIGE
You’ll like little Alice.
LETTY
And what about his wife, my Cousin
Cora?
Rather than reply Lige pops the stopper back in his canteen,
walks to where ANNIE’S HARNESS is stacked.
LETTY (CONT’D)
What is it? Bev never wrote about
her. What kind of woman is she?
LIGE
That’s just it, she ain’t a woman
exactly. More of a force of nature.
Letty isn’t sure how to react.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Don’t get me wrong I like Cora a
whole lot. It’s just that, well...
She ain’t exactly the woman you’d
pick out for a feller like Bev.
LETTY
She doesn’t love him?
LIGE
Oh, she’s got the love all right.
Heck, Bev woulda been in his grave
ten years ago without her.
LETTY
Well then?
LIGE
Just don’t contrary her — not if
you want to live under her roof.
Lige slings Annie’s harness onto his shoulder.

21.
LIGE (CONT’D)
We best hit the grit. Your Cousin
Bev’ll be honin’ to see you. I
would if I was him.
CUT TO:
13 EXT. SWEETWATER PRAIRIE - DAY 13
The wagon lazes along under the cloudless afternoon sky.
Other than the occasional grazing LONGHORN there is nothing

to break the monotony of the landscape and nothing at all to
break the monotony of the wind, until:
A RUSTLE in a nearby bush startles Letty.
LETTY
What’s that?
Lige doesn’t bother to look over.
LIGE
Nuthin’ but a JACK RABBIT.
It’s a rabbit all right, a big one. He’s only intermittently

visible but Letty marvels at his agility.
LETTY
Reminds me of a kangaroo.
LIGE
What’s that?
The rabbit bounces out onto the trail.
Lige draws his .45, takes aim.
LETTY
Don’t!
LIGE
He’ll be good eatin’.
A horrified Letty grabs Lige’s gun arm.
LETTY
Please. I couldn’t bear it.
LIGE
This is a first. Out here girls
shoot game same as men.
22.
Lige uncocks his piece. The rabbit is gone anyway.
LIGE (CONT’D)
If ya stay you’ll learn to shoot.
It’s a way of life out here.
Letty wants to change the subject; she spots something over

Lige’s shoulder.
LETTY
What animal is that?
Miles off the winds have kicked up a SMALL CYCLONE.
LIGE
Heck, that ain’t no animal,
leastways not how you mean it. It’s
a twister. Sand caught up by the
wind. Folks round here say it’s a
ghost but believe me it’s meaner
than any real critter.
LETTY
Ghost?
LIGE
It’s a sorta story folks tell in
these parts.
LETTY
Oh, do tell it. Please.
LIGE
Well, it goes sumthin’ like this:
When the Spanish first settled
Texas they brought Arabian horses.
Some of ‘em got away an’ that’s how
the wild herds got started. Since
then most of them horses have been
roped and gentled. But they always
tell of one, a lead mare, black as
midnight, that’s still out there —
too game to ever be caught. This
mare she ain’t flesh and blood but
more like a ghost. And to this day
when you see a twister if ya look
careful you can see her stirrin’ up
the wind.
Letty shields her brow from the sun’s glare:
For an instant — just an instant — that PHANTOM MARE

materializes in Letty’s eyes.
23.
LETTY
That’s a crackerjack story. Do tell
another.
LIGE
Only got the one.
Eyes closed, Letty fills her lungs with fresh clear air.
LETTY
Imagine being free as the wind.
LIGE
Seems like bunkum to me. I been in
these parts my whole life and I
ain’t never seen a ghost or a
spirit or anything magic-like.
LETTY
You can’t mean that.
LIGE
I can’t?
LETTY
If there isn’t any magic in the
world then the world is just what
it is. Don’t you have any dreams?
Lige conjures a smile and clears his throat; he’s mustering

the courage to say something.
(O.S.) A distant yell: “TI-YI-YI”
There goes the smile.
LIGE
I shoulda known.
Topping the ridge is a cowpoke on a SMALL SPOTTED PONY. Must

be Lige’s friend SOURDOUGH.
Lige waves him on.
LIGE (CONT’D)
This-a-way, pardner!
Even at a distance Sourdough is quite a character — crimson

shirt, green bandana, and silver boot tips polished to
outshine the sun.
LETTY
Is this the best friend you
mentioned last night?
24.
LIGE
Sure is.
LETTY
And you own a ranch together.
LIGE
Not exactly. His homestead is next
to mine so we built one claim shack
on the border. He lives in his room
on his side and I live in mine. We
trade-off the kitchen duties and we
run our herds together.
Sourdough circles behind them so he can pull up along Letty’s

side of the wagon.
SOURDOUGH
Howdy-do, ma’am.
LETTY
Pleased to meet you, Mr...
SOURDOUGH
Friends call me Sourdough. You’ll
call me Sourdough won’t you, ma’am?
LETTY
And you can call me Letty.
SOURDOUGH
Honored by the privilege, Miss
Letty.
With knightly flourish Sourdough sweeps his hat off and bows
low. On cue Sourdough’s pony extends his right front leg and
bows low as well.
Letty CLAPS her hands with delight.
Lige rolls his eyes.
Sourdough pulls up, trots close.
SOURDOUGH (CONT’D)
Leave it to my pardner to find a
gal prettier than red shoes.
Letty reaches over to give the pony a stroke.
LETTY
And who is this gallant steed?
25.
SOURDOUGH
His name, ma’am, is MARIJUANA.
That’s Mex fer umm....
Lige twirls his finger round his ear.
LIGE
... Loco weed.
CUT TO:
14 EXT. SWEETWATER PRAIRIE - DAY 14
Letty shifts, stiff in every muscle and chilled from the wind
that not even the buffalo robe can keep out.
LETTY
How much farther?
LIGE
We’re on Bev’s land now. Them are
his cattle.
Bev’s cattle are as forsaken-looking as everybody else’s.
(O.S.) RATTA-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT...
Annie rears up, paws at the air.
Lige reins her in.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Rattler!
Blocking Annie’s path is a DIAMONDBACK RATTLESNAKE coiled and

ready to strike.
Sourdough draws his .45, twirls it rodeo-style on his finger.
SOURDOUGH
Got him!
But Sourdough is faced the wrong way round. Awkwardly he

twists backwards, FIRES TWICE.
Both shots go wide.
The Diamondback is even more peeved:
RATTA-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT...
Lige unholsters his COLT but can’t get a bead, not with Annie
in front of him.
26.
LIGE
Come round this-a-way, amigo! I
ain’t got a shot.
SOURDOUGH
Tryin’.
It takes a hard WHIP to get Marijuana turned.
Sourdough takes steady aim.
(O.S.) BANG! A shot rings out.
The rattler’s head vaporizes in a CLOUD OF BLOOD.
Sourdough and Lige check their revolvers, exchange a “wasn’t

me” glance.
(O.S.) A DISTANT VOICE calls out:
DISTANT VOICE (O.S.)

Losin’ your touch, Sourdough.
Atop the far ridge, waving a big bore SHARP’S CARBINE is a

woman. No, a prairie goddess.
Face alight with a smile Sourdough yells back:
SOURDOUGH
Ain’t losin’ none of yours.
He dismounts Marijuana like a circus performer, collects the

dead snake.
LETTY
Who is that?
SOURDOUGH
That thar is the best dang shot in
the whole dang state.
Trophy in hand Sourdough vaults back onto Marijuana.
Best dang woman in the whole dang
state.
Sourdough gigs his pony, lights out for the woman. Letty
turns to Lige in confusion.
LIGE
“That thar” is your Cousin CORA.
CUT TO:
27.
15 EXT. BEV’S RANCH - DAY 15
The house is nothing more than a frame SHACK. No fence, no

porch. Four rooms, unpainted, set in a dried-up hollow.
At the back is a wooden cistern for water and some weathered

wooden posts strung with wire where SIX HORSES are corralled.
Before the buckboard can even pull up COUSIN BEV is out the
front door.
In the same instant Letty is over the wheel and into Bev’s
arms.
LETTY
So many years, so many years.
COUSIN BEV
My goodness. What a pretty young
lady you’ve become. Prettier even
than your Momma.
LETTY
And you...
Letty wants to return the compliment but she can’t. Bev is

thinner than a fence rail and just as weather-worn.
How can Bev respond except with a resigned smile. He mops a

tear from Letty’s chin and embraces her again.
CORA (O.S.)
Ain’tcha gunna introduce us?
Cora who’s riding double with Sourdough tosses the headless

rattler onto the ground, hops down after it.
She ejects the empty CARTRIDGE from her carbine — KA-CHING —

then puts her lips to the rifle’s breach to blow it clean.
Up close Cora is no less magnificent: tall, ample, noble as a

statue.
COUSIN BEV
Letty, this is my wife, your Cousin
Cora.
Letty extends her hand but Cora pulls her in for a hug,
albeit a damned awkward one.
CORA
Bev said yer Momma weren’t no
bigger than a titmouse. Reckon now
he wasn’t lyin’.
28.
Bev starts to COUGH — a rasping dry cough which he quickly

smothers with a HANDKERCHIEF.
CORA (CONT’D)
Let’s get ya outta this wind.
CUT TO:
16 INT. BEV’S RANCH, PARLOR - DAY 16
Along with its DIVAN, ROCKING CHAIRS and WHATNOT the room has
a BED for company and a POT-BELLIED STOVE for heat.
Proud Bev has rounded up ALICE for Letty’s inspection.
COUSIN BEV
This is our Alice.
Bev pushes forward a tow-headed six year-old. Oddly she’s

covering the right half of her face with her hand.
Letty crouches down to Alice’s level.
CORA
Whatcha waitin’ for, Alice. Shake
the lady’s hand.
Teeth clenched, Alice throws her hand out — and reveals a

LARGE RED BIRTHMARK on the right half of her face.
Letty is overcome with tenderness. She takes Alice’s hand.
LETTY
Aren’t you the cutest thing ever.
But of course Alice isn’t and she knows it.
CORA
Don’t look like neither one of us,
does she? I tell her she’s a stray.
Bev cuts in quickly.
COUSIN BEV
Alice is... COUGH-COUGH ... Alice
is our little apple pie.
CORA
Like hell. Alice is tough as dried
leather and smarter than a ropin’
horse. You two will be bunk-mates,
Letty. I stored your grips under
her bed.
29.
LETTY
That’s just fine. Does that suit
you, Alice?
Rather than answer Alice retreats behind her daddy’s leg.
Lige crouches beside Letty, reaches round Bev and gives Alice
a tickle on her tummy.
Alice GIGGLES.
Leaning in, Lige whispers in her ear. Alice whispers back.
LIGE
She says she’s happy for the
company, Miss Letty.
CORA
If Alice was old enough she’d marry
ya, Lige. Like I said she’s a smart
girl.
LIGE
Maybe I should ask her now before
she gets sense enough to turn me
down.
Lige’s focus shifts to Letty.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Well, um... it’s been a pleasure to
make your acquaintance, Miss Letty.
He helps Letty back to her feet.
Letty does her best to be gracious but Lige’s grip is bone-

crushing.
COUSIN BEV
You ain’t goin’?
LIGE
Best be gettin’ back.
CORA
The heck you are. Chuck’s almost
ready. You’re stayin’. That’s the
word with the bark on it.
Bev is pleased with Cora’s proclamation.
COUSIN BEV
You heard the boss... COUGH-COUGH.
30.
LIGE
All right with you, pardner?
Is it ever. Sourdough’s eyes are fastened to Letty (and have

been since they met).
SOURDOUGH
Tickled as a box of possum heads.
As Cora heads to the KITCHEN she breaks into song:
CORA (O.S.)
Did you ever hear tell of Sweet
Betsy from Pike,
Who crossed the wide mountains with
her lover Ike...
LIGE
I’ll tend to the horses.
With that Lige is out the door.
(O.S.) Above Cora’s singing, the LOUD CLATTER of stove-lids.
Letty starts toward the kitchen but Bev waves her off.
Instead Letty finds a seat on the divan. Sourdough crowds in

next to her.
Expertly Sourdough rolls himself a CIGARETTE one-handed, his

eyes never straying from Letty. He seals the paper with a
lick and offers it up:
SOURDOUGH
Tobaccie, ma’am?
Letty politely declines.
CUT TO:
17 INT. BEV’S RANCH, KITCHEN - DAY 17
This is one NOISY meal.
Cora THUMPS food into the dishes, RATTLES the COFFEE POT and
speaks like prairie thunder.
Letty examines the PILE OF STEW on her plate.
CORA
It’s Sonuvagun.
Bev helpfully clarifies.

31.
COUSIN BEV
Innards.
She lowers her fork.
CORA
Get to it. We don’t waste food in
this house.
Easier maybe to start with some CORNBREAD. Trouble is Letty’s

slice is dusted with sand.
She tries to pick it clean — but Cora’s stare nearly singes

her hair off. Letty stops picking, takes a big bite.
Satisfied, Cora gets back to dishing up Bev’s stew.
COUSIN BEV
You got plans for the drought,
Sourdough? Sourdough?
Sourdough doesn’t hear — he’s too busy drooling over Letty.
Lige, seated opposite, kicks the table under Sourdough’s

plate splashing Sourdough’s chin with stew.
SOURDOUGH
What the damn hell...
LIGE
Bev’s asking you a question, moon
eyes.
COUSIN BEV
Any thoughts ‘bout how to fight the
drought?
SOURDOUGH
Oh, err... my mind ain’t arrived at
no definite answer. All I know is
it’s so dry the bushes are
followin’ the dogs around.
LETTY
How long has it been?
SOURDOUGH
Long enough fer the cattle to be
feelin’ downright abused.
COUSIN BEV
Yeah, these Sonora Reds bawl at you
as if you was... COUGH-COUGH...
Joshua stoppin’ the rain.
32.
Cora flops into her chair, attacks her STEW.
CORA
I don’t care if these dumb animals
think I’m God Almighty.
SOURDOUGH
What we need to do is to cross our
longhorns with camels.
LETTY
Surely it’s due to rain soon.
COUSIN BEV
Everybody’s hoping so.
LETTY
And if the rain doesn’t come?
COUSIN BEV
We’ve been cleaned out once before
on accounta... COUGH... drought.
With her non-eating hand Cora clasps Bev’s wrist.
CORA
If we get starved out we’ll throw
Alice in a wagon and start out for
new grass. I like to travel. Change
does a body good.
Cora and Bev share a warm smile.
SOURDOUGH
Lige and me seen covered wagons
already.
CORA
Good riddance I say. Most of ‘em
don’t know a rattlesnake from an
alligator.
COUSIN BEV
Dry years bring ‘em out.
CORA
It ain’t the weather. They fail cuz
they ain’t fit. Folks that ain’t
got any more backbone than a piece
of string had better stay in
Virginia.
Everybody knows where that barb is directed.

33.
SOURDOUGH
Gotta admit there been times when
this drought had me scared. How
‘bout you, pardner?
LIGE
I reckon so. But it don’t do to
quit.
CORA
That’s the talk I like to hear.
Yet again Cora jumps up to refill plates — strutting about as

if her body has never known a pain.
CORA (CONT’D)
If drought was sumthin’ you could
prevent by bein’ scared of it I’d
go hide under the covers. But it
ain’t. Bein’ scared is nuthin’ but
a big waste o’ time. Worse cuz it
makes things happen that wouldn’t
happen otherwise.
Cora dishes more stew onto Letty’s already full plate.
CORA (CONT’D)
Fear is the worst poison there is.
Letty wolfs down her sonuvagun; in these circumstances she

would eat sawdust.
CUT TO:
18 INT. BEV’S RANCH, ALICE’S ROOM - NIGHT 18
Wedged between OLD BOXES, BROKEN FURNITURE and FAMILY

CASTOFFS is Alice’s bed.
Crouched beside it, Letty twines the last braid in her long
silky hair. She inspects her work in her oval mirror — newly
hung on the wall above: hair braided perfectly, porcelain
skin scrubbed, NIGHTGOWN freshly starched.
Dousing her CANDLE Letty peels back the THREADBARE QUILT and
climbs in with her tiny bed-mate.
Little arms pull Letty close.
All Letty wants to do is sleep. Her eyelids droop shut then

pop back open. Close again. Open again.
It’s no use.
34.
Her attentions jerk nervously over to the sand PELLETING the

window glass then up to the roof beam CREAKING from the wind.
Her teeth CHATTER but not from the cold.
What’s that? And that? And that? And that?
It’s only a mesquite branch TAPPING the outside wall... It’s

firelight sneaking under the door... It’s moonglow making
eerie patterns on the ceiling... It’s Letty’s own heart
THUMPING at a thousand beats per minute.
More disquieting than any of these:
LAUGHTER.
Unnatural, unwavering — as if some lost soul is mocking

Letty’s despair.
Letty whispers in Alice’s ear:
LETTY
That laughter. Is it a coyote?
Alice whispers back then rolls over and goes to sleep.
Letty pulls the quilt tight under her chin.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Just the wind, just the wind...
For Letty this will be a long night.
FADE TO BLACK:
(O.S.) The LAUGHTER dissipates into nothing.
FADE IN:
19 INT. BEV’S RANCH, ALICE’S ROOM - PRE-DAWN 19
Letty’s eyes flicker open. She sits up, takes stock in the
mirror:
Braided hair not-so-perfect, skin the color of dried clay,

nightgown wrinkled and patched.
LETTY (V.O.)
Dear Mr. Roddy,
Four months ago when we met on the
train you called me a silly little
girl.
35.
It’s still dark out but Alice is long gone.
LETTY (V.O.)
You said my head was full of pink-
ribboned thoughts and that I was
ill-equipped for life on the
prairie. How right you were.
With both hands Letty brushes sand from her face and arms,
tussles it from her hair, spits granules from her mouth.
20 EXT. BEV’S RANCH - DAWN 20
Dressed, Letty steps out.
Though it’s barely light enough to see, Bev, Cora, and Alice
are already busy at their chores.
LETTY (V.O.)
After four months I have no
aptitude for shoeing horses or
mending fences or even finding
quail eggs.
Bev hammers a SHOE onto a HOOF. Cora stretches WIRE taught

around a FENCE POST. Alice collects EGGS hidden under some
GREASEWOOD.
LETTY (V.O.)
And despite what you said I doubt
I’ll ever learn to hunt down a wild
beast...
IN ANOTHER PART OF THE DESERT an ANTELOPE grazes quietly.
LETTY (V.O.)
... And turn it into the evening
meal.
IN THE KITCHEN, ANTELOPE STEW is dished up hot.
LETTY (V.O.)
Not that I haven’t been busy.
Workdays begin before sun-up and
ends after dark.
UNDER A MIDDAY SUN Letty fills a WHEELBARROW with COW CHIPS.
LETTY (V.O.)
All this labor is performed under
the watchful eye of my Cousin Cora.
36.
Letty tries to stack the chips against the house but they
topple over and scatter everywhere.
Cora is not amused.
LETTY (V.O.)
She is boss of this ranch — a fact
I’m never allowed to forget.
With Letty nearby Cora inspects the COOK STOVE for grease.
LETTY (V.O.)
Nothing I do is up to Cora’s
standard. I know this because she
is always reminding me.
While trying to beat out the RUG Letty covers herself in

DUST. Cora swipes the PADDLE from Letty and beats the rug
from the windward side — so the dust blows away.
CORA
Don’t drink downstream of the
outhouse.
LETTY (V.O.)
Cora is full of these nuggets of
wisdom and she is not shy about
sharing them.
As Cora pulls a BROOM from Letty’s hand... and pushes Letty

away from the WASHBOARD... and takes charge of the IRONING
she exclaims:
CORA
Don’t squat with your spurs on...
Always tighten your own cinch...
When in doubt let the horse do the
thinkin’.
LETTY (V.O.)
However hard Cora rides me it is as
nothing compared to how hard she
drives her daughter Alice. Alice
must help with the baking, she must
gather fuel, she must help with the
butchering.
Alice expertly kneads a MOUND OF DOUGH... She hefts a BUNDLE

OF KINDLING onto her back... Her small hands scoop the
ENTRAILS from a BUTCHERED STEER.
37.
LETTY (V.O.)
Alice who is not much bigger than a
water bucket must fetch all the
water.
OUTSIDE, Alice struggles with a WATER BUCKET — managing only

three steps before she must set it down and rest.
Cora watches but does not help.
CORA
One more step, Nubbin. If you’re
walkin’ through Hell best thing to
do is keep walkin’.
Taking a deep breath Alice again hoists the bucket, stumbles

forward three more steps and lets it drop.
LETTY (V.O.)
Through all these trials Alice
never shows anger or frustration. I
have never seen Alice cry.
Across the sand is a long trail of circular bucket

impressions spaced a few inches apart. At the far end is
Alice carrying on undaunted.
LETTY (V.O.)
Alice is the second most determined
animal I have ever encountered. The
first is Cora herself.
Cora sets a ROCK, a big one, into its place along the CORRAL
WINDBREAK.
LETTY (V.O.)
There is no task Cora cannot do.
Indeed there is no task Cora cannot
do better than any man.
Cowboy Cora BRANDS A STEER. Skinner Cora peels the HIDE off a
CARCASS. Roustabout Cora SADDLES an UNBROKEN MUSTANG.
Blacksmith Cora straightens a HORSESHOE.
LETTY (V.O.)
Will Alice grow up to be like her
mother? The thought makes me
uneasy.
As Cora works the forge Alice practices driving HORSESHOE

NAILS in a WOODEN STUMP.
38.
LETTY (V.O.)
Over these months Alice and I have
formed a deep bond. In our rare
moments of freedom we play games...
The two enjoy a spirited round of BLIND MAN’S BLUFF.
LETTY (V.O.)
We make up stories...
Seated around the overturned WASH BUCKET Alice pours Letty an

IMAGINARY CUP OF TEA.
LETTY (V.O.)
We share dreams.
Marveling at a PASSING CLOUD they trade secrets.
LETTY (V.O.)
In the evenings I teach Alice her
lessons.
On ALICE’S BLACKBOARD: 5+3+15=. Alice dutifully writes in 23.
LETTY (V.O.)
At day’s end we comfort each other.
IN THEIR BED the two share a whisper then entwine in sleep.
LETTY (V.O.)
Alice and I are kindred souls — and
Cora deeply resents it.
In all these prior situations — BLIND MAN’S BLUFF, THE MAKE-

BELIEVE TEA PARTY, THE CLOUD CONTEMPLATION — Cora watches
disapprovingly.
LETTY (V.O.)
Perhaps it is jealousy but I do not
think so.
In each case Letty catches Cora’s scornful eye.
LETTY (V.O.)
There is something about me
personally which Cora cannot abide.
Whatever is going through Cora’s mind Letty cannot decipher.
LETTY (V.O.)
For all this I do not feel entitled
to judge Cora. She has borne
hardships which I can scarcely
fathom.
39.
Set on a lonely rise are FOUR WOODEN CROSSES: BEVERLEY MASON,

JR. AGED 3 MONTHS; BEVERLEY MASON, JR. AGED 1 YEAR; BEVERLEY
MASON, JR. AGED 2 WEEKS; BEVERLEY MASON, JR. AGED 5 DAYS.
Beyond the crosses a WAGON makes its way up the trail toward
Bev’s house.
LETTY (V.O.)
Visitors come often. Everybody
headed to or from Sweetwater stops
in for a meal or a sleep-over or a
good long jaw.
COWPOKES, SADDLE TRAMPS, COUPLES OUT FOR A BUGGY RIDE,

FAMILIES BY THE WAGON-LOAD pull up in front of the house.
All receive the same hearty, “HOWDY.”
EVERY FACE, even the young ones, has been etched deep with
the harsh facts of the prairie.
LETTY (V.O.)
All seem to bear their hardships
with quiet dignity. Well, not all.
Presenting themselves at the front door: Lige and Sourdough.
LETTY (V.O.)
There are two undignified souls who
come by regularly. One of them is
only interested in showing off:
To Letty’s delight: Sourdough shoots up TIN CANS... does some

fancy ROPE tricks... performs daredevil stunts on HORSEBACK.
LETTY (V.O.)
The other instructs me in the
garden-like wonders of the desert.
Lige presents Letty with a STONE FLOWER... lets Letty sample

FRESH HONEY... shows her A PRAIRIE DOG TOWN... shares with
her a breath-taking VISTA.
LETTY (V.O.)
Many sights are glorious but it is
certainly no Eden. There is only
one tree on Bev’s Ranch and if it
contains any knowledge it hasn’t
imparted it to me.
In an otherwise empty stretch of desert stands a SINGLE LONG-

DEAD CEDAR.
40.
LETTY (V.O.)
This garden does have a serpent.
The hollowed-out base of the tree is occupied by a HISSING

RATTLESNAKE.
LETTY (V.O.)
Lots of serpents in fact. Serpents
sleeping under rocks, hiding in my
shoes, crawling up my apron.
At Letty’s feet a GILA MONSTER scurries into a crevice... A

TARANTULA drops from Letty’s upturned LACE BOOT... Letty
brushes a SCORPION off her dress.
LETTY (V.O.)
Even the plants here are
unfriendly.
Razor sharp CACTUS SPINES glisten in the midday sun.
LETTY (V.O.)
It is a garden without pity.
FIRE ANTS swarm over a DYING LIZARD.
LETTY (V.O.)
All of this would be bearable if
not for the wind.
A HARSH BREEZE buries the feasting ants under the sand.
LETTY (V.O.)
Don’t let anyone tell you the Devil
isn’t real. He’s here roaming the
West Texas prairie.
The wind blows Letty’s hair in her face... Blows grit in her
eye... Blows her skirt straight up over her head.
LETTY (V.O.)
He plays tricks, sets traps,
outsmarts me at every turn.
The wind will not permit Letty to light the STOVE... Or hang
THE LAUNDRY... Or wear a HAT... Or read a BOOK.
As final insult the wind blasts open the front door, spanking
Letty — WHACK! — on the rump.
LETTY (V.O.)
Like a cat torturing a helpless fly
I fear the wind will tire of this
game — and devour me.
41.
The letters L-E-T-T-Y are scrawled in the sand. A GUST OF

WIND sweeps over them erasing any trace.
LETTY (V.O.)
That’s why I’m writing you.
21 INT. BEV’S RANCH, ALICE’S ROOM - AFTERNOON 21
Sitting up in bed, WRITING BOARD in her lap, Letty ponders

her next sentence.
She dips her PEN and continues:
LETTY (V.O.)
As I’m sure you know the big dance
is tonight.
22 INT. BEV’S RANCH, PARLOR - TWO WEEKS EARLIER 22
Everybody is gathered round Lige and Sourdough.
LETTY
A dance?
LIGE
A square dance — at the
Popplewells.
SOURDOUGH
To celebrate their new house.
LIGE
Biggest house on this whole range.
COUSIN BEV
Just like Si Popplewell to build
the biggest.
CORA
Si Popplewell is all hat and no
cattle.
LIGE
Ev’rbody’ll be there.
LETTY
Everybody?
LIGE
Ev’rbody except the dead.
42.
SOURDOUGH
Ev’rbody includin’ the dead.
That gets a BIG LAUGH.
23 INT. BEV’S RANCH, ALICE’S ROOM - AFTERNOON 23
Letty keeps scribbling:
LETTY (V.O.)
Likely you will be there tonight —
but as this event won’t afford much
privacy it seemed more prudent to
commit my thoughts to paper.
Without a knock Cora pops her head in:
CORA
Lige and Sourdough is pullin’ up.
LETTY
I’ll be out directly.
CORA
Don’t moon about.
LETTY
I won’t. I promise.
Cora SLAMS the door.
OUT THE WINDOW: Lige and Sourdough arrive in their buckboard.

Lige has shaved and combed his hair and maybe even taken a
bath. Sourdough is wearing a brand new store-bought shirt.
A last dip of the pen and Letty hurriedly finishes:
LETTY (V.O.)
What I need to ask is this: Is the
offer to accompany you to Fort
Worth still open? If so I think I’d
like to discuss the possibility
further. I hope we shall find the
time to do so.
With much anticipation of our
reunion.
Your Friend, Letty Mason.
The letter is folded and stuffed in the empty envelope Wirt

Roddy gave her.
Letty slips the envelope inside her bodice.

43.
In the oval mirror she makes a final inspection.
Her hair, freshly washed, is pinned up in a loose pile. Her

dress, white with a blue ruffled collar, is perfectly fit.
Around her neck is a blue ribbon choker which matches exactly
the color of her eyes.
Satisfied (as she should be) she pinches her cheeks to bring
up the blush and sashays out the door.
CUT TO:
24 EXT. POPPLEWELL RANCH - DUSK 24
By prairie standards the house is palatial — two stories high

with a wide porch across the front.
Behind it is the Popplewell’s original DUGOUT.
Scattered across the front yard is all the Popplewell’s

FURNITURE moved out to make room for the party.
FOUR DOZEN WAGONS — all types — are parked out front.
In the CORRAL beyond there must be at least A HUNDRED HORSES.

Annie is among them.
CUT TO:
25 INT. POPPLEWELL RANCH - DUSK 25
It’s quite a gathering — over 200 if you count the NEWBORNS —

and there isn’t a size, shape, or color that isn’t
represented.
Some are grandly garbed — as grand as anything worn at a

Virginia cotillion — but the lack of suitable apparel hasn’t
kept anyone at home.
Among the best dressed is SI POPPLEWELL, the host. A stubby

old cuss, he’s loudly greeting all who enter.
His offspring, ALL EIGHT OF THEM, are also noisily in

evidence as is SARAH POPPLEWELL, his CHATTY missus. She’s
playing hostess at the REFRESHMENT TABLE.
That’s where Letty is, lending Mrs. Popplewell a hand.
At the same time Letty is scanning the crowd — their footwear

not their faces — in hopes of spying a certain pair of
rattlesnake boots.
44.
No luck so far.
Sourdough notices Letty’s investigative eyes.
SOURDOUGH
Lookin’ fer me?
Before she can answer, THE CALLER, decked out in fringed

buckskin, swaggers to the center of the room and hails the
assembly to order:
CALLER
Choose your first partner and form
a circle.
He signals THE FIDDLER, another buckskinned old-timer, to

tune up.
LETTY
What’s dangling off his fiddle?
SOURDOUGH
It’s a snake rattle. To keep the
dampness off the fiddlestrings.
LETTY
Does it work?
SOURDOUGH
Fiddlers think so.
LETTY
Well, it looks disgusting.
SOURDOUGH
Rattlers ain’t nuthin’ to trouble
about. Come Spring I’ll teach you
how to shoot ‘em. It’s fun.
LETTY
I’ve told you fifty times I don’t
want to learn to shoot.
The Fiddler waves his instrument to signify his readiness.
Sourdough presents his arm to Letty.
SOURDOUGH
Ma’am.
LETTY
A pleasure.
45.
Sourdough escorts her out on the dance floor where they take
their place in the circle.
CALLER
Light a fire, Eustace!
Hands CLAP, feet STOMP.
WHOOPS and HOLLERS flood the room.
The Fiddler tears into COTTON-EYED JOE.
Every member of the CROWD, save Letty, bursts into song:
CROWD
Don’t you remember don’t you know,
Don’t you remember Cotton-Eyed Joe?
The Caller squawks:
CALLER
STOMP-STOMP!
The Crowd hollers back:
CROWD
STOMP-STOMP!
Window panes RATTLE, floorboards QUAKE, voices ROAR.
CALLER
ONE-TWO-THREE-FORWARD!
The circle begins to move.
Men bow, women curtsey. They do-si-do then step in the

opposite direction to the next person. In this way every guy
partners with every gal.
It’s the perfect occasion for Letty to boot-watch.
And what a dizzying carousel of COWBOY BOOTS she sees: Pull-

on, lace-up, plain, fancy, black, brown, bright red. Some are
brand new, most are nearly worn-out, none are rattlesnake.
Letty has circled back to Sourdough. She curtseys and the

song ends to wild APPLAUSE.
Without pause the Fiddler cuts loose on the next tune:
OH DEM GOLDEN SLIPPERS
Again the whole crowd joins in:

46.
CROWD
Oh, dem golden slippers,
Oh dem golden slippers,
Golden slippers I’se goin’ to wear
Because they look so neat...
Before Sourdough can react another COWPUNCHER grabs Letty and

whisks her across the dance floor.
And so it goes all night.
The songs keep coming one after the other:
BUFFALO GALS; RED RIVER VALLEY; GIT ALONG, LITTLE DOGIES; OH!
SUSANNA; OLD CHISHOLM TRAIL; I RIDE AN OLD PAINT.
Letty is not given a moment’s rest. Every fella from eight to

eighty wants to take her for a turn.
She is waltzed and squared and mazurkaed and polkaed and

quadrilled.
The MUSIC, the dancing, the LAUGHTER, the energy, the sheer
joy is intoxicating — it is overwhelming.
Letty has forgotten Virginia, Bev and Cora, her tired back
and her aching limbs, she has even forgotten Wirt Roddy.
She has forgotten everything.
CUT TO:
26 INT. POPPLEWELL RANCH - NIGHT 26
Letty flops into a chair — eyes beaming, cheeks flushed,

unable to catch her breath.
Sourdough and Lige fall into the chairs on either side. They
are nearly as out breath as she is.
From his back pocket Sourdough pulls a PINT BOTTLE, takes a

quick snort, offers it over to Lige. Lige waves it off.
LIGE
You know I don’t drink, pardner.
Sourdough being Sourdough offers it to Letty.
LETTY
How about something cool and
refreshing instead.
Both men simultaneously rocket out of their chairs.

47.
As Letty fans herself she catches sight of:
Someone wearing RATTLESNAKE BOOTS.
Can’t see a face but his size and shape are right. He turns:
It’s NOT WIRT.
Letty gives the air an indignant SNIFF.
Lige and Sourdough return each carrying a CUP OF CIDER.
LETTY (CONT’D)
I’m not that thirsty.
Obligingly she accepts a cup in each hand — and takes a small

sip from both — first Lige’s then Sourdough’s.
SOURDOUGH
Miss Letty, me and Lige was
wonderin’ if we could speak to you.
LETTY
Of course.
She takes two more sips.
SOURDOUGH
Somewhere’s private.
CUT TO:
27 EXT. POPPLEWELL RANCH - NIGHT 27
With her dimpled smile and her cheeks still rosy from dancing
and her hair shining from the glow of a nearby window Letty
makes quite a picture.
The cowboys share a look.
SOURDOUGH
You wanna start?
LIGE
This is your plan, pardner.
Lige finds a seat on the edge of a CHOPPING STUMP.
Before he begins Sourdough licks his palm, tries to flatten

the cowlick on top of his head:
48.
SOURDOUGH
I... that is, we... Hell, this is
worse than walkin’ barefoot through
a bed o’ cactus.
LETTY
Go on Sourdough, it’s only me.
SOURDOUGH
It’s like this: Bein’ partners Lige
and me don’t do nuthin’ that ain’t
square with each other. And we
figured if I ask you first it
wouldn’t be fair and vice-a-versie.
So I made Lige a proposition: That
we should ask you together so there
wouldn’t be no hard feelin’s.
LETTY
Ask me what?
SOURDOUGH
Heck I thought a girl always know’d
when a man was in love with her.
LETTY
Is this a proposal?
SOURDOUGH
Lige and me, we’re both terrible in
love with you.
Lige nods in bashful agreement.
LETTY
Do you two always propose as a
duet?
SOURDOUGH
We never proposed before at all.
We wouldn’t now except if we’re
gunna be any use in Spring round-up
we need you to choose and put us
out of our misery.
Before Letty can speak Sourdough puts up a halting hand.
As for me I’m proud but poor and
ready to lick a million wildcats to
protect you. Someday I’ll put
diamonds on those soft little
fingers.
(MORE)
49.
That is, if God ever lets it rain
again. Until then I promise to...
Letty tries to interrupt but Sourdough keeps his hand up.
I promise to... er, I promise to...
Exasperated, he turns to Lige:
Well, say somethin’ ya dumb
sonuvabitch.
LIGE
We’d sure do our darnedest to make
ya happy.
SOURDOUGH
Exactly. We’d do our darnedest.
LETTY
You expect me to marry both of you?
SOURDOUGH
No, ma’am. I expect you to marry
me.
Lige droops his head.
LIGE
I don’t expect you’ll marry either
one of us.
Up till now this has been a sort of joke to Letty — but there
is so much tenderness in Lige’s voice.
LETTY
I like you both — a lot. Maybe I
even love you a little but not with
the marrying kind of love. Not at
all. I’m sorry.
SOURDOUGH
Rushed ya too much didn’t we?
LETTY
It’s not that, I promise.
SOURDOUGH
Heck, it’s natural for a girl yer
age to be skeered. If ya waited a
spell maybe you’d learn ta like me,
then...
50.
LETTY
But I already like you.
LIGE
Leave it be, pardner.
SOURDOUGH
I’m just tryin’ to make her see how
wrong she is.
Letty rests a gentle hand on Sourdough’s arm.
LETTY
Any girl would be proud to have you
for a husband and I shall always
cherish the memory of your asking.
SOURDOUGH
Why cherish a memory? Heck, it’ll
be a damn sight pleasanter to have
yer own home instead o’ washin’
Cora’s dishes the rest of yer life.
The truth of that remark stings.
Won’tcha at least think about it?
Letty summons a warm smile but shakes her head no.
Time for Lige to end this.
He stands, paws the ground with his boot, searching for the
words, unable to bring his eyes up to meet Letty’s.
LIGE
Some day the right man will ride
in, Miss Letty. It’s what you
deserve. I’ll always wish that
feller could’ve been me.
He shakes her hand — too hard like always — and steps away.
Letty wants to respond but can’t find the words either.
Before she can Sourdough jumps back in:
SOURDOUGH
Why sure. Rejectin’ us only shows
you got good sense. But you really
should get married. How ‘bout...
Lige mashes Sourdough’s sombrero back on his head.

51.
LIGE
Time for us to hit the grit, amigo.
It takes a hard tug to get Sourdough moving.
As they walk away Lige keeps his arm wrapped tight around his
partner’s sagging shoulder. Within a few steps Sourdough has
put his arm around Lige.
It chokes Letty up to watch her two defeated suitors mope off

towards the CORRAL.
CORA (O.S.)
What in holy thunder was that
about?
Cora has been watching. For how long is anybody’s guess.
LETTY
Nothing much.
CORA
Nuthin’ much, huh.
Cora has a hitch in her step. She finds a seat on the

chopping stump, unlaces her shoes.
CORA (CONT’D)
You mean neither one of them boys
popped the question?
LETTY
Oh, they did.
CORA
And you said, “No thank you.”
Cora’s tone is jarring.
LETTY
I’m not ready to think of marrying.
CORA
Well, you best start thinkin’.
Cora pulls off one shoe then the other.
CORA (CONT’D)
Ah, that’s easier. Got married in
these shoes. Damn things didn’t fit
any better then than they do now.
She massages her toes.

52.
CORA (CONT’D)
You don’t like neither of them
boys, fine. Toddle your fanny back
inside and pick yourself out
another one.
LETTY
Dear God, you’re serious, aren’t
you?
Cora shoots Letty her “what a stupid question” look.
CORA
Spring round-up is comin’. These
men won’t have time for tomfoolery
till next Winter and you ain’t
livin’ in my house till then.
LETTY
You’re actually saying I have to
decide this tonight?
CORA
That’s what I’m sayin’.
LETTY
And I don’t have a choice?
CORA
Sure ya got choices. But livin’ in
my house ain’t one o’ them.
LETTY
I don’t understand...
CORA
Can’t see how to make it plainer.
Cora mushes her feet down, squishes sand between her toes.
CORA (CONT’D)
Mmmmm, heavenly.
LETTY
I’m sorry... I can’t... I knew you
didn’t like me, but... Is this
about Alice?
CORA
Alice don’t need you. My little
Nubbin can outrun, outride and out-
think you any day o’ the week.
(MORE)
53.
CORA (CONT'D)
And when the time comes that girl’s
gunna marry whomever she damn well
pleases. Hell, she’s got more guts
in her little pinky than you got
stuffed in that whole damn frilly
dress.
Letty can’t bear to look at Cora a moment longer.
LETTY
So that’s it. No discussion no
argument. You’re throwing me out.
CORA
I’m just doin’ what needs doin’.
Like always.
Letty tries to gather herself.
CORA (CONT’D)
Would ya believe me if I said this
don’t give me no pleasure?
LETTY
No.
For the moment Letty has crowded out all her fears and
replaced them with anger.
LETTY (CONT’D)
What does Bev say about this?
CORA
Go ask him.
Letty marches straight past Cora without looking at her.
Cora, meantime, laces her shoes back on before following

Letty into the house. Cora is in no hurry.
CUT TO:
28 INT. POPPLEWELL RANCH - NIGHT 28
Back inside Cora spots Bev and Letty seated together in a

corner.
Can’t hear what’s being said above the PARTY NOISE but it’s
obvious Letty is making her plea.
Cora steps close enough to listen in:

54.
COUSIN BEV
You want my advice?
Letty nods yes.
COUSIN BEV (CONT’D)

Do what Cora says.
Not the answer Letty was hoping for.
LETTY
I’m not asking to stay forever,
just till I figure out what to do.
Between stifled COUGHS Bev shakes his head no.
COUSIN BEV
You’re such a child.
LETTY
That’s your answer?
COUSIN BEV
You need help and I have none to
give. Oh, don’t you see? I ain’t
worth a damn any more. It’s Cora
that keeps this family goin’ — so
don’t ask me to set against her.
The air in here has gotten too poisonous to breathe.
Letty pushes Cora out of her way — not even noticing it’s her
— and charges back out the door.
Cora steps over to Bev, sets a firm hand on his shoulder.
Bev makes no reaction — his thoughts are far away.
CORA
You’re thinkin’ I was too hard on
her. Well, maybe I was. Maybe I’m
always too hard. Reckon that’s just
who I am.
COUSIN BEV
I was thinkin’... COUGH-COUGH...
about a dance just like this — ten
years ago — the night we met.
Bev’s eyes, sad and peaceful, find his wife.
COUSIN BEV (CONT’D)

You were the prettiest gal I’d ever
seen. And you still are.
55.
Bev offers Cora his arm and escorts her onto the dance floor.
The Fiddler strikes up HOME ON THE RANGE.
Cora and Bev begin to waltz.
The rest of the congregation breaks into song:
CROWD
Oh, give me a home where the
Buffalo roam,
Where the Deer and the Antelope
play...
As they glide across the dance floor Cora and Bev join in the
singing:
CROWD (CONT’D)
... Where seldom is heard a
discouraging word,
And the sky is not cloudy all day.
No two people ever looked more in love.
(O.S.) WHAM!
The front door BLASTS open.
It’s Lige and Sourdough — they’ve rushed back.
Sourdough halts the proceedings with an EAR-SHATTERING

WHISTLE.
SOURDOUGH
Twister’s a comin’. A barn-shaker.
Headin’ directly this a-way.
CRIES of, “DEAR GOD!” fill the air.
Si Popplewell charges onto the dance floor, arms thrust

upward in a plea for silence:
SI POPPLEWELL
No need to panic. Everyone into the
dugout. We’ll be plenty safe in
there.
Dashing out, Sourdough hollers:
SOURDOUGH
I’ll open the corral, let the stock
run free. We’ll round ‘em up later.
56.
SI POPPLEWELL
The rest of you follow me.
Quick as lightning folks gather their children and stampede

for the door.
Except for Lige. He edges his way in, eyes searching

desperately.
He spots Cora.
LIGE
Where’s Miss Letty?
The question stops her cold.
CORA
Merciful God. She’s outside.
Without waiting to hear more, Lige sprints to the door.
Cora calls after him:
CORA (CONT’D)
Want any help?
LIGE
I’ll find her. Get Alice into the
dugout.
CORA
Better hurry. The wind don’t wait
for nobody.
CUT TO:
29 EXT. POPPLEWELL RANGE - NIGHT 29
Clutched in Letty’s hand:
Wirt Roddy’s powder blue envelope.
Letty stares at it — hard — leaving no doubt what’s

percolating in her brain.
A sudden BLAST OF WIND rips the letter from Letty’s hand.
She scurries after it but the wind, devilish prankster, keeps

it just out of reach.
Tiring of the game the wind sticks the letter to a barb on a

BARBED-WIRE FENCE.
57.
Letty snaps her hand out and — “GOTCHA!” — snags the letter.
Before the wind can make more mischief Letty stuffs it back
inside her bodice.
Good thing because the next GUST nearly knocks Letty over.
She holds tight to a nearby FENCE POST.
Before that gust subsides another slams into her and another
and another.
The fence post she’s holding begins to uproot.
The ground shakes under her feet.
The GROWL of the wind amplifies into a furious ROAR.
What’s happening? Letty’s eyes dart in all directions.
In the dimly silhouetted distance:
A horse — A BLACK MARE — gallops across and vanishes.
Right on its heels there comes:
A TWISTER of nightmare proportions.
Letty cranes her neck all the way back and still can’t see
the top of the funnel.
The HOWL it makes is earsplitting.
It’s tossing MESQUITE TREES about as if they are balls of

cotton.
Letty must get out of here and fast.
Blindly she pulls herself along the fence — the wind pounding
so hard she can barely stand.
From out of nowhere:
A CHESTNUT STALLION at full gallop, eyes ablaze with terror,

slams into the fence, knocks Letty to her knees.
The barbed-wire SNAPS, coiling itself round Letty and the

animal.
The horse gets to its feet but it’s caught in the wire.
So is Letty — she tears at her snagged dress.
BAM!
58.
The sand EXPLODES! Letty is tossed backwards like a rag-doll.
There is a SCREECH of unspeakable pain.
A LONGHORN STEER in blind panic has RAMMED into the horse.
Letty can’t see much (and neither can we, thank goodness) —
but the animals’ CRIES — a sickening mixture of fear and
agony — tell the story.
Twist, roll, spin — whatever the animals do they cannot get

free of each other.
Only now does Letty realize why: The horse is impaled on the
steer’s horn.
Letty covers her eyes and SCREAMS in horror.
The horse makes a final desperate attempt to stand but only

forces the steer’s horn deeper under its shoulder blade.
Both animals collapse back to the ground, rolling into

Letty’s legs — trapping her.
The Twister is only a few ticks away.
Hopeless.
Then, miraculously, comes a tug under Letty’s arms.
It’s Lige.
With all his strength he pulls.
Letty is free.
Lige draws his .45.
LIGE
STAY DOWN!
BANG! BANG! One shot each to the brain — and within seconds
both horse and steer have convulsed and died.
Lige dives to his knees, shovels furiously with both hands

digging a swallow pit under the horse’s bleeding corpse.
Best he can Lige pushes Letty into this pit and covers her
with his own body.
Not a moment too soon.
The Twister bulldozes past, missing them by only a few feet.

59.
Lige is BLASTED with sand and debris.
The Twister keeps going, quickly arriving at the Popplewell’s

front yard.
FURNITURE and PARKED WAGONS are blown apart like so many

match sticks.
WHAM! What’s left of Mrs. Popplewell’s MAHOGANY DRESSER

smashes into the sand inches from Lige’s head.
Moving on, the Twister side-swipes the Popplewell’s new home.
ROUGH-HEWN PLANKS from the porch are up-ended in perfect

sequence as if they are piano keys.
Half the house’s front façade shears away.
Then, quick as it flared up, the TWISTER dissipates and dies.
An eerie calm settles in.
Half the wagons are overturned, two are completely destroyed.

All that’s left of the Popplewell’s furniture is a few
scattered bits of kindling.
The house itself has remained standing but with part of its
face missing it resembles a stroke patient.
Other than a single horn poking up, the dead horse and steer
are completely buried.
From underneath them the sand boils up and slides away.
Lige emerges, spitting grit from his mouth.
BLOOD oozes from the back of his neck — it’s been sand-
blasted raw.
Urgently he clears away more sand.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Miss Letty, Miss Letty...
Curled up in a tight kitten ball beneath him is Letty. Her

body is trembling all over. She looks up towards Lige, her
face completely covered by her tussled hair.
With his big clumsy hand Lige sweeps the hair away.
Letty’s cheeks and forehead are webbed with scratches and her
chin has a small bruise.
60.
And there is something else: every trace of little-girl

innocence has vanished from Letty’s eyes.
Silently they stare at each other.
SOURDOUGH (O.S.)
LIGE! MISS LETTY! WHERE THE HELL
ARE YA?!
Lige is about to call out but ever so gently Letty presses

her fingers to Lige’s lips.
She puts her arms around his middle and digs her fingers into
his back and holds onto him as tight as she can.
FADE TO BLACK:
(O.S.) A great PEAL OF CHURCH BELLS.
FADE IN:
30 DAWN 30
A WHITE STEEPLED CHURCH sits nestled in a grove of majestic

elms on a wide expanse of green lawn bordered by a white
fence twined with white roses.
FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS, ALL EXQUISITELY DRESSED, line the

church steps awaiting the newlyweds.
The carved oak doors sweep open.
Out steps Letty gowned in white satin, holding a large

BOUQUET OF WHITE ROSES. Close beside her walks THE GROOM — a
gallant figure reminiscent of Wirt Roddy. In fact it is Wirt.
They are followed by a kindly PASTOR who invokes a prayer for

their happiness.
As the couple glides down the steps the crowd lets loose a
joyous shower of ROSE PETALS AND RICE.
It is Letty’s dream wedding. Literally. And like all dreams

it must end.
THE CHURCH SCENE DISAPPEARS UPWARD.
WIPE TO:
31 INT. COUNTY REGISTRAR’S OUTER OFFICE - DAWN 31
A ROLL-UP SHADE FLAPS open.

61.
Letty, who’s been watching her dreams unfold on the shade,

blinks back to reality.
She is still in West Texas, still in last night’s dress, her

face still covered with cuts and bruises.
The idyllic Church Scene has been replaced with a dreary

window view of SWEETWATER’S MAIN ROAD.
Looming over Letty is the JUSTICE OF THE PEACE (although his

manner suggests an undertaker):
JUSTICE OF THE PEACE

The marriage certificate will need
your signature, Mrs. Hightower.
Letty nods, follows the man into his office.
On the wooden bench Letty has left behind her bridal bouquet
— a SMALL NOSEGAY OF HALF-WILTED DESERT MILKWEED.
CUT TO:
32 INT. COUNTY REGISTRAR’S CHAMBERS - DAWN 32
Two signatures are affixed to a MARRIAGE LICENSE.
In rough printing: ELIJAH HIGHTOWER
In elegant script: LETITIA MASON... HIGHTOWER
CUT TO:
33 EXT. BEV’S RANCH - MORNING 33
Hands folded, Letty sits alone on the buckboard.
Bev, Cora, and Lige step out from the house. Letty’s valise
is tucked under Lige’s arm.
Bev gives Lige’s free hand a firm shake. From Cora Lige gets
a big hug and a kiss.
CORA
We expect to see ya here again real
soon — both of ya.
Cora searches around, calls out:

62.
CORA (CONT’D)
Alice, come out here. Company is
leavin’. Alice!
Alice’s door remains firmly shut.
CORA (CONT’D)
Well, I never... Alice!
Cora starts for the door but Lige sets his hand on her
shoulder.
LIGE
Please don’t. Reckon she don’t know
what to say any more than I do.
Anyhow, she’ll be over it by the
time we come to see ya again.
With the help of Lige’s reassuring smile, Cora eases off.

Lige starts for the buckboard.
CORA
Lige...
Lige turns.
CORA (CONT’D)
Tell your wife... Ask Letty to...
Tell her we’ll come for a visit
real soon.
As always, Lige understands.
LIGE
I’ll tell her.
CUT TO:
34 EXT. SWEETWATER PRAIRIE - SUNSET 34
As the buckboard trundles along Lige SINGS his lungs out:
LIGE
Oh my darlin’, oh my darlin’
Oh my darlin’ Clementine
Thou art lost and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine...
Letty journeys in silence, her thoughts drifting.
Far in the distance she catches sight of a small CYCLONE.

63.
She shields the glare from her eyes, searching for what?
CUT TO:
35 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - EVENING 35
Annie pulls up in front of Letty’s new home.
As she no doubt expected it’s a RUDE SHACK set in a bleak

expanse of nothing.
The only adornment is a WEATHER-VANE in the shape of a

GALLOPING BLACK STALLION mounted atop the roof.
Out front next to Marijuana is a PACK MULE weighed down with

a sizeable load. The man adjusting that load is horribly
misshapen — hunched back and withered right arm. His name is
PEDRO.
LIGE
Hola, Compadre. ¿Qué tal?
PEDRO
Como siempre.
LIGE
Letty this here is our best hand,
Pedro. Pedro, esto es Señora
Hightower — mi esposa.
Pedro sweeps off his sombrero, bows low.
PEDRO
Encantado, Señora Hightower.
LETTY
Encantado, Pedro.
Lige lifts Letty down. They go inside.
CUT TO:
36 INT. LIGE’S RANCH - DAY 36
TWO .44 WINCHESTER RIFLES are mounted criss-cross on the

wall. One is removed.
Sourdough levers the rifle open, double-checks that the

chamber is empty before stuffing it inside his bedroll.
Lige helps him tie the bedroll off.

64.
LIGE
This needn’t make a difference, old
scout. Soon as Letty and me get
settled you can move back.
SOURDOUGH
Not on your tintype. If I can’t be
the tablecloth I won’t be a
dishrag. Gunna shack with Pedro
till I get a room built.
Letty is busy affixing her oval mirror to the bedroom wall.
LETTY
Build it close so you can come over
for meals.
SOURDOUGH
I dunno. I’m mighty partic’lar
‘bout my vittles.
Never mind the mirror, Letty goes straight over to Sourdough

and plants a kiss on his cheek.
Well, what’s for supper tomorrow?
CUT TO:
37 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - EVENING 37
Pedro and Sourdough wave a final good-bye as they ride off.
It’s a soft-scented silver-blue night. Magical you might say.
Lige and Letty are alone, bride and groom.
They stare back at the unpainted shack — their bridal

chamber. Through the open front door all the way to the back
room they can see Lige’s RICKETY BRASS BED.
A GUST OF WIND rustles the BLANKET.
LIGE
Reckon we should go inside.
Letty swallows.
LETTY
I reckon.
FADE TO BLACK/FADE IN:

65.
38 INT. LIGE’S RANCH - DAWN 38
Lige comes out from the bedroom, boots in hand, WHISTLING My

Darling Clementine.
Letty is already up. COFFEE and DOUGH GODS are on the table.
LIGE
Well ain’t you a clever wife.
He grabs Letty’s APRON STRINGS, yanks her in — hard — and

kisses her — SMACK! — on the lips.
Letty makes an uncomfortable effort to kiss him back.
LIGE (CONT’D)
You ain’t much of a kisser are ya?
Letty pushes him away. Lige tries not to take offense.
LIGE (CONT’D)
You’re right. Best to get on with
the day.
He pulls on his boots, STAMPS his feet into them.
Letty pours him a CUP of COFFEE.
Lige takes a sip, winces.
With his free hand he stuffs dough gods in his vest pockets
and shovels one in his mouth. Tough as cowhide.
LETTY
I’ll get better — at all of it.
LIGE
Why sure you will.
He slings his saddle on his shoulder, grabs his Stetson off

the nail by the door.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Adios.
LETTY
Lige?
LIGE
Yes, honey?
66.
LETTY
Where’s the broom?
CUT TO:
39 INT. LIGE’S RANCH - LATER 39
Letty sweeps madly.
Not making much headway though. Sand blows through the cracks
in the walls almost as fast as Letty can broom it up.
From under the bed Letty pulls out a stack of yellowed paper:
CATALOGS, NEWSPAPERS, DIME NOVELS, what have you.
In a METAL PAN she mixes FLOUR and WATER into a THIN PASTE.
One by one sheets of paper are soaked in the pan, glued to

the wall and flattened out with a big HOG HAIR BRUSH.
As Letty works she reads.
NEWSPAPER headlines:
BROOKLYN BRIDGE OPENS, KRAKATOA ERUPTS, PRESIDENT GARFIELD

ASSASSINATED, CHARLES DARWIN DIES, STATUE OF LIBERTY ARRIVES.
Titles from BEADLE’S HALF-DIME LIBRARY:
TEXAS JACK’S TERRORS, THE GHOSTS OF GALVESTON, RED MAN’S

REVENGE, DEADWOOD DICK IN LEADVILLE, BAD MEN OF THE PECOS.
ADVERTISEMENTS for:
DR. FRANCI’S AGUE PILLS, OLD CHUM TOBACCO, NELSON’S PURE

BEEF TEA, DENSMORE TYPEWRITERS.
After much sweat she’s managed to cover the walls, albeit

sloppily, to the four foot mark.
(O.S.) Horse Hooves. Someone has ridden up — Lige probably.
Letty goes to the mirror, fusses with her hair, straightens

her dress.
(O.S.) KNOCK-KNOCK.
That’s odd.
(O.S.) KNOCK-KNOCK.
Maybe it’s Sourdough. She rushes over.

67.
Swinging open the door Letty inhales a quick sharp breath.
There stands Wirt Roddy.
Letty goes stiff and silent.
WIRT
This ain’t what I’d call a hearty
welcome.
Grinning his devil grin Wirt edges past her.
LETTY
Oh yes... Come in, come in.
Casually he tosses his derby on the table and sits down. In

his other hand he’s carrying a rolled-up NAVAJO BLANKET. He
sets that on the table as well.
His eyes rove over the room taking in every dreary detail.
WIRT
And so you’re married.
Letty nods.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Kinda sudden wasn’t it?
LETTY
Life is kinda sudden. I’ve found
that out lately.
WIRT
How do you like it here?
LETTY
Don’t think you’d be interested.
WIRT
You might be surprised. I could
probably name ever’ fella you
danced with at the Popplewell’s.
LETTY
You weren’t even there.
That devilish grin spreads even wider across Wirt’s face.
WIRT
And I wasn’t even there.
Letty fidgets with her apron.

68.
LETTY
I need to finish my work.
WIRT
It’s gone.
LETTY
Gone?
WIRT
The pretty pink blush in your
cheeks. And the shine in your
hair...
Letty turns her back to Wirt, dips a NEWSPAPER PAGE into the
floury water.
WIRT (CONT’D)
... The blue in your eyes is all
washed away. Too many tears I
expect.
LETTY
Too much sand and wind.
She fusses with the piece of paper.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Why have you come?
WIRT
Wish I knew. Some way-down-deep
devil brought me here, I reckon.
There is genuine sadness in Wirt’s voice.
WIRT (CONT’D)
I got angels inside me too — at
least I think I do. Trouble is the
angels mostly keep me thirsting.
They never wet my appetites the way
the devil does. No sir, the angels
got no...
LETTY
... Pity.
WIRT
Miss Letty, do you ever feel like
you’re being punished and you don’t
know why?
It’s as if Wirt can see into Letty’s soul.

69.
LETTY
I best finish up.
Her hands, trembling, lift the soaked paper from the tray.
WIRT
Here, let me do that.
Out of his chair Wirt grabs the paper and holds it against
the wall so Letty can brush it smooth.
This is awkward. To brush the paper Letty must stand very

close to Wirt — close enough to feel his breath on her neck.
It’s making Letty anxious. Wirt knows it and is relishing

every second.
The front door CREAKS open.
They both turn.
LETTY
Lige!
Standing at the door Lige takes the measure of Wirt, scans

the paper covering the walls.
WIRT
I was just helping your wife...
LETTY
No he wasn’t. I mean he just got
here... Maybe you don’t remember,
this is...
WIRT
Wirt Roddy. Pleased to see ya
again, amigo.
Wirt puts out his sticky hand. Lige doesn’t take it.
LIGE
I remember you.
WIRT
Your wife did all this to surprise
you — she’s been tellin’ me bout
it. Honest, I ain’t been here but
five minutes.
Lige’s eyes are still taking in the room.

70.
LIGE
Not even. That dun mare of yours
ain’t cooled out yet.
Lige drops his tack, slaps the dust from his clothes and
hangs his Stetson up.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Have a seat, Mr. Roddy.
WIRT
Call me Wirt... I can’t stay long.
On my way to town.
All the same Wirt drops into the chair and fills his pipe.
LIGE
How you makin’ out at your ranch?
WIRT
Well, I shipped my herd north
before the worst hit. Had a hunch
there was gunna be a drop in cattle
prices — and I kinder felt this
drought was gunna last longer than
folks thought.
LIGE
You’re a smart man, Mr. Roddy.
WIRT
Wirt, please... Don’t know how you
little ranchers is gunna hold out
if this drought keeps up.
LIGE
We don’t know neither. But we will.
Wirt fixes his pipe in his jaw then grabs up the Navajo
blanket, unrolls it.
WIRT
I brought a present for your bride.
Startled, Letty tries to catch Lige’s eye — to assure him she

doesn’t know about this.
LIGE
That’s kind but I don’t think...
WIRT
Call it a wedding gift. Ya can’t
refuse a wedding gift. It’s bad
luck.
71.
LIGE
Sure don’t need more of that.
Inside the blanket:
A SHORT-BARRELED REMINGTON .22 RIFLE and a BOX OF RIMFIRES.
WIRT
My first rifle. It’s what I learned
to shoot with.
LETTY
I don’t know how to use a gun.
WIRT
Lige’ll teach ya — won’t ya, Lige.
All the girls out here have rifles.
You ought to have one.
LETTY
I couldn’t bear to kill a rabbit or
an antelope or a bird.
WIRT
There are other things.
LIGE
Rattlesnakes.
Wirt doesn’t respond. Instead he notes the EMPTY HOOKS where

Sourdough’s rifle used to hang.
WIRT
You already got a place for it.
He hangs it across Lige’s .44 Winchester.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Like it was made to hang there.
By his expression Lige doesn’t agree.
Wirt TAPS his pipe clean on the edge the stove.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Reckon I should hit the trail.
He gathers up the Navajo blanket and pops on his derby,

carefully adjusting the angle.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Adiós compadres.
72.
LIGE
Vaya con Dios, Mr. Roddy.
There’s no mistaking Lige’s dismissive tone but Wirt doesn’t

press his luck. With a smile and a quick tip of the hat Wirt
is out the door.
That leaves Letty silent and squirming.
LETTY
I said I didn’t want it.
WIRT
Don’t reckon there’s any harm done.
Anyhow there’s no reason you need
to learn how to shoot. I can keep
us well enough supplied with game.
LETTY
There’s not much left round here to
shoot anyways.
LIGE
They’ll come back.
Through the window Lige and Letty watch WIRT’S DUST TRAIL.
LIGE (CONT’D)
You’ll see. Everything’ll be
different in a few months — as soon
as it rains.
FADE TO BLACK:
(O.S.) THE SCREECH of BUZZARDS
FADE IN:
Letty glances into her oval mirror.
Months have passed and everything is indeed different:

Letty’s once-lustrous hair is coarse and sun-bleached, there
are deep cracks in her lips, age lines cross-hatch her skin.
The black of her dress has faded to grey, her apron is
nothing but patches.
Younger Letty would’ve fussed with her hair and her dress.
This Letty just keeps moving.
She passes the walls, which are fully papered over. And like
Letty the paper is showing considerable wear.
73.
Papers torn by the wind have been pasted over with newer
pages from an 1887 WINCHESTER ARMS CALENDAR.
Every day of MARCH, APRIL, MAY, JUNE, JULY, AUGUST, and

SEPTEMBER has been crossed off.
(O.S.) The BUZZARDS’ SCREECHINGS grow louder.
CUT TO:
41 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - DAWN 41
No wonder the buzzards have gathered.
A STEER, thirsty and starved, has wandered near the house.
What’s left of his hide is stretched tight as a hatband

across his ribs, his head is bowed — too weak to hold up his
horns, his legs tremble.
Letty stares into the beast’s colorless eyes. It is the same

stare she gave herself in the mirror — as if foreseeing her
own death.
With a GROAN the beast drops to his knees.
Letty can stand it no longer. She rushes into the house.
Moments later she returns carrying Wirt’s .22 rifle and the
box of rimfires.
Cradling the gun she pops open the box of ammo. The rifle
slips, bumps the box and scatters BULLETS everywhere.
The steer collapses onto his side.
Letty kneels, grabs up one bullet, cleans it on her apron.
She tries to open the rifle’s breechblock but it won’t budge.

Desperately she claws at it all the while haunted by the
animal’s TORTURED BREATHING.
The breech pops open. Letty loads and stands up. She inches
closer till she’s directly over the creature’s head.
The steer is lying motionless except for the shallow rising

and falling of his side.
With grit teeth Letty cocks the hammer and points the barrel
between the animal’s horns.
But the wind allows no acts of mercy.

74.
Hair blows into Letty’s face. She sweeps it away. It blows in

again. Again she sweeps it away.
Next it toys with her apron, blowing it up and over and

around. One-handed she tears the apron off, chucks it aside.
The beast’s breathing has shallowed to a WHISPER — he seems

to be pleading for an end to his suffering.
Letty takes aim.
A grain of sand sweeps into her eye.
She rubs it clean, re-aims — and for an instant is aiming at:
Her own LIFELESS CORPSE.
Quickly she blinks this phantom away, aims again.
But there is no reason to fire. Letty can see — can sense —

the emptiness in the animal’s half-open gray-white eyes.
There is no sound of breathing — only the sound of the wind

LAUGHING.
Hopelessly, helplessly, Letty slumps down beside the steer’s

lifeless body.
Ever so quietly she begins to sing:
LETTY
O bury me not on the lone prairie.
These words came low and
mournfully...
As she sings Letty writes in the sand: L-E-T-T-Y.
CUT TO:
42 INT. LIGE’S RANCH - NIGHT 42
Letty finishes cleaning the DINNER PLATES in a BUCKET OF SAND

then joins Lige and Sourdough at the table.
Sourdough wants to roll himself a cigarette but his tobacco

pouch is empty. Lige passes over his. Empty as well.
LIGE
Me and Sourdough been talkin’ it
over. We aim to round up the
herd...
75.
SOURDOUGH
... Thems that are still fit to
travel...
LIGE
... And drive ‘em to free lands
northeast o’ here. Word is there’s
better grass and more water up by
Devil’s River.
SOURDOUGH
We gotta start thinkin’ smart like
your friend, Mr. Roddy.
There is real venom in Sourdough’s voice.
LETTY
Why does Wirt Roddy make you so
angry?
SOURDOUGH
Your right, Miss Letty. No sense
bein’ angry at a rattlesnake cuz he
acts like a rattlesnake.
CUT TO:
43 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - MORNING 43
Atop the low rise of the CORRAL WINDBREAK stands Letty, her
eyes directed toward a CLOUD OF DUST a few miles to the west.
By squinting Letty can make out the mounted figures of Lige

and Sourdough amongst the TWO HUNDRED ODD LONGHORNS.
The boys’ WHISTLES and HOLLERS can be heard plainly above the
nervous LOWING of the herd.
CUT TO:
44 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - MIDDAY 44
Hotter out here than a dutch oven.
Letty is HAULING WATER. She pauses to mop her brow and check
on the boys’ progress.
Can’t see much — the dust cloud is much thicker — but the
boys are NOISY as ever.
CUT TO:
76.
45 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - AFTERNOON 45
The wind, hot and dry, directs the weather-vane southward.
In the long shadow of the house Letty works the WHETSTONE,

putting an edge on her BUTCHERING KNIFE.
Off to the west the CURTAIN OF DUST has settled some. The
BOYS’ VOICES are thin and hoarse.
CUT TO:
46 INT. LIGE’S RANCH - DUSK 46
Lige flops into the nearest chair.
His face is crusted-over, his hair dishevelled, his attitude

dejected.
Letty brings him a cup of cold coffee then helps him off with
his boots.
LIGE
Didn’t get more than half o’ them
together but it’s all we can
manage. Sandstorm is spent.
He sets down the cup, covers his face with both hands.
LIGE (CONT’D)
The cattle’s been so starved
they’re half mad. I gotta stand
night guard so Sourdough can get a
fresh start for Devil’s River at
first light.
LETTY
Oh Lige, let me go with you.
LIGE
That’s silly talk, honey.
LETTY
Please. I’d rather do that than
stay here alone. Let me try it.
LIGE
Don’t take nuthin’ to spook
critters when they’re as jumpy as
this bunch.
77.
LETTY
The wind’s not blowin’. I promise I
won’t be scared.
Lige is too tired to argue.
LIGE
I never told ya but I sure do
admire the spruce-up ya did to this
room. Heck, I’m gettin’ educated
just sittin’ here.
Letty takes that as a yes. Vigorously she massages Lige’s

aching feet.
CUT TO:
47 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH, ARROYO - NIGHT 47
Against the vast empty plains a small campfire CRACKLES.
Letty, bathed in its orange glow, stretches out a BLANKET.
Nearby Pedro tends the fire.
The cattle are hidden down in a DRAW except for their long
horns which shine like sharpened spears against the dim
silver-gray horizon.
Lige can’t be seen but he’s out there singing a soft LULLABY:
LIGE (V.O.)
As I walked out in the streets of
Laredo,
As I walked out in Laredo one day,
I spied a poor cowboy, all wrapped
in white linen,
All wrapped in white linen and cold
as the clay.
Letty lies back and listens.
Overhead are more stars than a person could count in a

thousand lifetimes.
CUT TO:
48 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH, ARROYO - PRE-DAWN 48
Exhausted, Lige drops his saddle into the dirt and mumbles to
Pedro:
78.
LIGE
Your turn, amigo. I’ll spell ya in
two hours.
Pedro grabs up his TACK, disappears into the darkness.
Lige pours himself some COFFEE, leans his sore back against
his saddle.
LETTY
Odd feeling, being out here on a
Sunday morning, don’t you think?
LIGE
Is it Sunday?
LETTY
Have you ever been to church, Lige?
LIGE
Not since I was fryin’ size.
LETTY
And no hankering to go?
LIGE
Don’t see the need. God’s in church
on Sundays I reckon — to show He
appreciates the trouble folks went
to fix up a place for him. But I
have an idea He gets fidgety if He
stays indoors too long.
Lige stares up at the dome of bright stars overhead.
LIGE (CONT’D)
When I lie out in the open at night
with nothing between me and the
earth but a blanket and nothing
between me and the sky I feel sorta
chummy with Him. Seems like if I
just stood up on my hind legs I’d
be looking Him right in the eye and
we could sorta talk things over man
to man.
LETTY
What would you say to Him?
Lige sips his coffee.

79.
LIGE
Nuthin’. I ask Him for sumthin’
once. Promised Him if He gave it to
me I’d never ask for nuthin’ else.
By Lige’s expression Letty is “the sumthin’” he asked for.
LIGE (CONT’D)
Botherin’ Him now wouldn’t seem...
grateful.
Letty is moved almost to tears. It never occurred to her she

meant that much to Lige.
(O.S.) HORSE HOOVES at the gallop.
It’s Sourdough.
SOURDOUGH
4:00AM, pardner. Time to light a
shuck.
LIGE
Right. I’ll saddle up, help ya get
the herd movin’.
Lige grabs his saddle, addresses Letty:
LIGE (CONT’D)
Douse the fire, honey, and roll up
the blankets.
SOURDOUGH
Howdy, Miss Letty. Didn’t expect to
see you out here.
LETTY
Pleased?
SOURDOUGH
Surprised. Reckon Lige is more
romantic than I thought.
Letty answers — but to herself not Sourdough:
LETTY
Reckon maybe he is.
While Lige saddles up the horses Letty rolls the blankets and
ties them off.
She grabs up the coffee pot, is about to pour it on the fire

— then changes her mind.
80.
From inside her blouse Letty pulls out:
The letter to Wirt Roddy — faded, crumpled up, sweat-stained.
She’s made her choice.
Into the fire it goes.
Satisfied, Letty carries on with her clean-up duties.
A SIGH OF WIND catches a FEW EMBERS OF THE BURNING ENVELOPE

and wafts them over to the TINDER-DRY BRUSH.
Letty is too busy to notice. She empties the COFFEE POT on

the fire.
Meanwhile those tiny embers fanned by the wind have ignited.
Only now does Letty notice that the bush is burning.
Grabbing a blanket Letty smothers the fire. But already the

wind has pushed the flames into the next bush.
Letty can hear the cattle STIRRING.
LETTY (CONT’D)
LIGE! LIGE!
Lige rides in hard, dismounts, starts shoveling sand.
LETTY (CONT’D)
What do we do?
LIGE
The fire don’t trouble me, there’s
no fuel out here. It’s them dumb
critters I’m worried about.
The fire is mostly out but the cattle sound restless.
LIGE (CONT’D)
I’ll finish here. Get yourself up
on Annie and get the hell out. I
can’t be worrin’ about you if them
cattle bolt. I mean it. Get!
Letty throws herself into the saddle, gigs Annie, takes off.
A last kick of dirt covers the fire before Lige grabs

Sandstorm’s reins, starts to get mounted.
But just as his foot goes in the stirrup A FRESH GUST OF WIND
stokes what’s left of the fire.
81.
Sandstorm shies, wrong-foots into a PRAIRIE DOG HOLE.
Lige pitches forward smashing down head-first into a PRICKLY

PEAR CACTUS.
No way Lige can get up — his boot is so twisted up in his

stirrup that his foot is spun nearly backwards.
Sandstorm gets his legs under himself, stands up — which

twists Lige’s foot even further.
LIGE (CONT’D)
YEE-OOW!!!!
Letty whoas up, turns:
It’s obvious Lige is in deep trouble.
She slaps the horse’s flank and races back.
Vaulting off Annie, Letty rushes over.
LIGE (CONT’D)
I told ya to get goin’.
LETTY
Hush up.
Letty grabs the stirrup, tries to untwist it.
Lige HOWLS with pain.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Hold on.
Fearlessly Letty stomps out the small fire that’s got

Sandstorm spooked. Tugging on Sandstorm’s rein she backs the
horse up two steps.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Try it now.
To get leverage Lige puts his other foot against Sandstorm’s

belly and pushes hard. Painfully his twisted foot slides out
of its boot.
Lige is free — but only of the saddle not the cactus.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Turn on to your side.
Lige sits halfway up on his right elbow.
Letty leads Sandstorm around so he’s faced away.

82.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Grab on.
With his left hand Lige gets a firm grip on Sandstorm’s tail.
Letty pulls Sandstorm forward — which in turn pulls Lige out

of the cactus.
What a mess Lige is — bristled with CACTUS SPINES, his

clothes soaked through with BLOOD.
He hobbles around to Sandstorm’s side, untwists his empty

boot from the stirrup.
No way can Lige get the boot back on — his ankle is too
tender. Angrily he plucks cactus spines out his forearm.
Letty, who’s been holding Sandstorm, circles round to help.
Meantime Sourdough has charged over.
SOURDOUGH
Good God Almighty! You sure done it
to yourself.
Lige is too busy pulling out spines to answer. His body is

quaking with pain.
Miss Letty — get him home, get him
patched up. Me and Pedro’ll handle
the herd.
Sourdough spurs Marijuana and gallops off.
Letty gives Lige a stern look.
LETTY
You heard the man.
CUT TO:
49 INT. LIGE’S RANCH - DAY 49
The door is kicked open.
Crutched against Letty, Lige hobbles in, rests himself

against the wall.
LETTY
Strip off.
83.
Letty disappears in the bedroom, comes back with her SEWING

BASKET. From inside it she retrieves a PAIR OF TWEEZERS.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Brace against the chair.
Naked, Lige grips the chair’s ladder-back.
Starting at his calves Letty methodically tweezes out the

hundred or so remaining cactus spines.
After each pull Letty adds a wincing:
LETTY (CONT’D)
Sorry... Sorry... Sorry...
To which Lige begins to reply:
LIGE
She loves me... she loves me not...
she loves me...
The two GIGGLE like school children.
CUT TO:
50 INT. LIGE’S RANCH - LATER 50
The LAUNDRY BUCKET has been filled with WARM WATER and set
in the middle of the floor.
With Letty’s help Lige — still naked — steps into it.
Letty lathers up a WASH CLOTH with a BIG BAR OF SOAP. Again,

starting at his calves Letty bathes Lige’s wounds.
What begins as a rather maternal act — a mother cleaning her

dirty child — quickly evolves into something else entirely.
The water is warm, the soap is soothing, and Letty’s touch is

oh-so gentle. Lige breathes out a long low MOAN.
As for Letty every glide of her hand over the contours of

Lige’s lean muscular body is making her more restless.
Eventually, the wash cloth slips from her hand.
Grabbing Letty by the hair Lige pulls her into the water.
Letty’s arms slide around his warm wet chest, her fingers dig
deep into his hard flesh.
Drawing her head back Lige kisses Letty hard on the lips.
84.
His manner like always is brutish. This time Letty doesn’t

seem to mind.
FADE TO BLACK /FADE IN:
Letty sits up smiling.
The smile is quickly erased.
Lige is dressed except for his right boot which he is

painfully pulling on.
LETTY
Where ya goin’?
LIGE
I don’t like the sound o’ things.
Letty listens.
LETTY
I don’t hear anything.
LIGE
Exactly.
Lige limps out the front door.
Wrapping up in the blanket Letty scurries after him.
CUT TO:
52 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - DAWN 52
Not far from the house are A HALF-DOZEN DEAD STEERS.
Lige studies the carcasses then searches the cloudless sky.
LETTY
What is it?
LIGE
Them carcasses ain’t been touched.
The buzzards and coyotes shoulda
picked ‘em clean by now.
LETTY
What does it mean?
Lige shakes his head.

85.
LIGE
Whatever it is I reckon it ain’t
good.
Letty’s eyes scan across this grim vista:
Lying amongst the dead steers Letty sees a WOMAN’S CORPSE —

small, almost childlike. It is herself.
Letty throws her hands over her eyes and lets out a gut-
wrenching CRY.
LIGE (CONT’D)
What is it, honey? You okay?
LETTY
Oh Lige, let’s pack up and move in
to town.
LIGE
Town? What town?
LETTY
Any town. Fort Worth maybe. Right
now. This minute.
LIGE
Maybe you better sit down.
LETTY
I mean it, Lige, we have to go.
We’ll talk about this later, honey,

I promise...
LETTY (CONT’D)
We have to talk about this now. If
you don’t want to go, can’t I go
somewhere — just till Spring?
LIGE
By God, you do mean it.
LETTY
Anywhere in the world except here.
LIGE
We got no money. You know that.
LETTY
Couldn’t you borrow enough for a
ticket?
86.
LIGE
Ain’t nobody I know well enough to
be on borrowin’ terms. Leastways
nobody with money to lend.
LETTY
Couldn’t we sell something?
LIGE
What the hell have I got that
anybody’d want to buy.
Anger is seeping into Lige’s tone. Letty doesn’t care, she is

desperate.
LETTY
Lige, I’ve got to go. I can’t face
another Winter here.
LIGE
I don’t know what to say. This is
all kinda sudden.
LETTY
It ain’t, Lige, I swear it. This
fear has been gnawin’ at me since
that first moment I got off the
train.
LIGE
What fear?
LETTY
The wind.
Her eyes fix on the horizon.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Fear of the wind is on me like a
curse. The wind is mocking me, it’s
laughing at me. Even when it ain’t
blowin’ I can hear it.
In Letty’s ears, the faint sound of LAUGHTER.
LETTY (CONT’D)
In the end it will get me.
LIGE
This don’t make no sense.
LETTY
I know. That’s why I can’t stay.
87.
LIGE
You’re just tired, honey. This is
crazy talk.
LETTY
I’m not crazy, Lige, not yet. But I
will be if I don’t get out of here.
That’s God’s honest truth.
Lige’s anger has become despair.
LETTY (CONT’D)
Bein’ out here is easier for you.
LIGE
You think so, do you.
LETTY
You can live with just sun and wind
and sand. But I can’t. God help me
but I can’t live without any dreams
inside me.
LIGE
You bein’ in love with me, that’s
just a dream, ain’t it?
Letty is too scared to be anything except honest.
LETTY
I didn’t marry you out of love. I
married you out of fear.
LIGE
Reckon I always knew. Don’t make it
any easier to hear.
LETTY
We’re just strangers sleepin’ under
the same blanket, Lige. You can’t
love a stranger.
LIGE
I can. I can love somethin’ right
through without understanding
anythin’ about it.
Letty rushes back inside. Lige follows.
CUT TO:
88.
Letty has collapsed into a chair, buried her face in her

hands.
LETTY
For God’s sake, Lige, I can’t bear
another moment of this. Please hit
me so I can hate you.
LIGE
I ain’t angry at you. You just
ain’t made for this sorta life.
Lige turns back toward the door.
LIGE (CONT’D)
And maybe the wind ain’t laughin’
at you, neither. Maybe it’s cryin’
— cryin’ cuz it can’t help bein’
itself any more than you can.
There is nothing more to say.
Lige snatches his hat off the nail, jerks his saddle up from
the corner and heads to the corral.
Through her tears Letty watches Lige get saddled up.
Without a backward glance he digs his spurs into Sandstorm’s

flank and lashes him into a gallop.
Letty lowers her head and quietly sobs.
CUT TO:
54 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - MIDDAY 54
The weather-vane sits motionless and there is not even the

buzz of a cricket — only unnerving silence.
Letty has brought a chair outside. Her eyes, tired and empty,
scan the horizon.
Distantly on the trail a WAGON approaches.
Letty recognizes the wagon and the piled-up furniture inside

it and the little-girl passenger and the woman driving.
It is Cousin Cora.
CUT TO:
89.
55 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - LATER 55
As the wagon pulls up, Cora stomps on the brake lever.
CORA
Ho there.
Cora and Letty exchange a half-hearted wave.
Alice hops down, runs off — deliberately avoiding Letty.
Next comes Cora, her limbs aching, uncharacteristically

silent. Letty doesn’t know what to make of this.
LETTY
If you’re Lookin’ for Lige he ain’t
here.
CORA
Lige ain’t why I’m come.
LETTY
Where’s Bev?
CUT TO:
56 EXT. BEV’S RANCH - DAY 56
On that lonesome rise with the four wooden crosses, a FIFTH

CROSS has been added: BEVERLEY MASON, AGED 36 YEARS.
CUT TO:
57 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - LATER 57
The two stand in empty silence.
CORA
A hundred times he wanted to leave
— and I wouldn’t let him. Now he’ll
never leave.
For the first time Cora’s voice sounds old.
CORA (CONT’D)
I got my way. Like always.
LETTY
What now?
Cora shrugs.
90.
CORA
Cattle’s all dead. Nuthin’ left of
our spread except an empty house
and five wooden crosses. And the
wind will turn them to dust soon
enough.
LETTY
Anything I can do for you?
CORA
Come with us into Sweetwater.
LETTY
I can’t do that.
CORA
Course you can. Don’t worry bout
Lige. We’ll leave him a note. He’d
want ya to come. Besides, I don’t
like the look of this weather.
Letty shakes her head emphatically no.
CORA (CONT’D)
You ain’t scared?
LETTY
Yes, I’m scared.
Cora takes Letty’s hand in hers, squeezes it tight. Finally

they’ve come to understand each other. Cora CALLS OUT:
CORA
Time to load up, Alice. We gotta be
movin’ on.
Cora’s eyes search.
CORA (CONT’D)
Where is that Nubbin? Alice! Alice!
There is a tug on Letty’s apron.
Alice is hiding behind Letty’s skirt.
Letty crouches, lets Alice whisper something in her ear.

Letty whispers back. They both smile.
Whatever has passed between them will remain their secret.
Cora reaches down to lift Alice onto the wagon. Letty stays
Cora’s hand.
91.
LETTY
No, let her do it herself.
Alice and Cora scramble up into the wagon’s seat. Cora unties
the reins from the brake lever, offers Letty a final thought:
CORA
Be careful. Sumthin’ bad is brewin’
out there. I can feel it in my
bones.
CUT TO:
58 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - SUNSET 58
Earth and sky have blended together in a coppery-gray haze.

There is no sign of movement anywhere, It is a stillness as
profound as the grave.
A LOUD METALLIC CLANK rouses Letty from her chair.
The weather-vane has abruptly swung southward.
Scanning to the north Letty spots — or perhaps imagines — the

VAGUE SILHOUETTE OF A HORSE, A BLACK MARE going south at a
quick gallop.
Trailing behind the mare is A MASSIVE DUST STORM headed

straight for the house.
At first Letty is awed. Then, slowly, she comes to realize

the true horror of what is approaching.
In both directions A SOLID WALL OF CHURNING DUST stretches to

the horizon — and it reaches high enough to blot out the last
sliver of light in the sky.
The earth itself has been convulsed by the wind into a great
GROWLING beast.
It is Letty’s worst fear come to life — the wind come to take

it’s final revenge.
The ground beneath Letty’s feet begins to quake.
Letty rushes back inside, SLAMS the door shut, and throws the
bolt — CLANG! — into place.
Moments later the tiny house is swallowed up.
CUT TO:
92.
59 INT. LIGE’S RANCH - NIGHT 59
Letty is huddled in the corner listening to the house CREAK

and MOAN and WAIL under the terrible strain of the wind.
Overhead the ridge beam has started to separate from the

rafters. The walls are heeled over so far that the nails are
prying loose. Every window pane is CRACKING.
Up through the floor, under the door, in between the wall

strips, the wind sneaks in. The papers on the walls are in
tatters. The room’s kerosene lamp flickers and flares
throwing weird shadows to all parts of the room.
To Letty it seems like the whole house might uproot at any

second and go tumbling across the prairie.
Piercing above all this commotion: A SHRILL HORSE’S NEIGH.
Cautiously Letty peeks out the window:
Despite the darkness and the dust she can make out a RIDER
dismounting his HORSE.
The door bursts open, blinding Letty in a flurry of sand.
LETTY
Lige! Lige!
The Rider fights his way in, BOLTS the door behind him.
As he draws the KERCHIEF from his face Letty SHRIEKS:
LETTY (CONT’D)
You.
It is Wirt Roddy.
WIRT
Now what kind of greeting is that?
LETTY
Where’s Lige?
WIRT
What makes you think I know.
LETTY
You’ve seen him.
WIRT
Yeah, I seen him.
93.
LETTY
Why hasn’t he come home?
WIRT
He can’t. He’s drunk.
LETTY
Lige don’t drink.
WIRT
He sure don’t. That’s why he’s
knocked out. He won’t be doin’
nuthin’ for quite a spell.
Wirt brushes off his clothes, strips off his HAT and DUSTER.
WIRT (CONT’D)
He showed up at my place this
afternoon wanting to borrow money
from me. Wouldn’t tell me why. Only
he swore he had to have it. Never
seen a man so riled up. Gave him
some red eye to steady him down.
And boy, did he turn loose on it.
Letty sits down.
LETTY
Dear God, what have I done.
WIRT
He’ll be all right in a coupla
days.
His words bring no comfort.
LETTY
Thanks for comin’ to tell me.
WIRT
That ain’t why I came.
No need to tell Letty that — she knows.
Outside the wind slackens. The house CREAKS back into a more
upright position.
WIRT (CONT’D)
It’s lettin’ up out there. I reckon
the worst is over.
That’s not what Letty is thinking.

94.
LETTY
If only you’d come to the dance. If
only you’d given me hope — shown me
a way out.
WIRT
I wanted to come.
LETTY
But you kept away. Why? Why?
WIRT
Because you trusted me, Miss Letty.
Girls have trusted me before and
regretted it. I didn’t want it to
be that way with you.
LETTY
Then why’d you come after — when it
was too late?
WIRT
I thought maybe you wouldn’t be so
pretty as when we first met.
LETTY
I’m not.
WIRT
The money Lige wanted, it was for
you, for a ticket back to Virginia,
wasn’t it?
Letty nods yes.
WIRT (CONT’D)
You still want to leave?
The wind is back, PUNCHING the house with its iron fist.
Every floor board GROANS, every nail SCREECHES.
LETTY
He’s still trying to get in.
WIRT
Who is?
LETTY
If I stay he’ll get me. God help
me, but I’ll die if I’m here
another minute.
Letty covers her ears.

95.
WIRT
Come with me then. If ya don’t —
like you say, you’ll die or go
loco. And what good would that do
Lige?
LETTY
I can’t run out on him.
WIRT
He’ll get over it. Men do.
LETTY
It’s too late for us. Too late.
WIRT
No it ain’t. We can light out for
the railroad and be long gone
before Lige gets over his drunk. I
got money. Hell, I’m big rich.
LETTY
Is that the sort of woman I am?
WIRT
What sort do you think you are? Ya
don’t love Lige. You never did. Ya
love me. Just cuz you can’t admit
it don’t make it not true.
Letty backs up, catches her image in the worn-out oval

mirror. She combs the hair away from her eyes.
LETTY
Am I still pretty?
WIRT
Girls like you have a prettiness
that runs deeper than their
complexion. The real you — the girl
that’s filled up with beautiful
dreams — she ain’t been touched.
True or not it’s what Letty is aching to believe. Her gaze

stays fixed on the mirror — her eyes searching desperately
for a way to forgive herself for what she’s now
contemplating.
Letty opens her mouth, unsure what to say...
Abruptly she stops, pricks up her ears.
LETTY
Somebody’s out front.
96.
WIRT
I don’t hear nuthin’.
Without warning the kerosene lamp blows out, throwing the

room into —
TOTAL DARKNESS.
LETTY (O.S.)
Who blew out that lamp?
WIRT (O.S.)
Silly girl, it was just the wind.
(O.S.) The door RATTLES.
LETTY (O.S.)
Yes, just the wind, just the wind.
(O.S.) No more talk, only SLOW FOOTSTEPS, HEAVY BREATHING...
... And the wind LAUGHING.
FADE IN:
All is quiet.
Letty sits balled up on the floor next to the stove, her body
shivering.
Through the bedroom door Wirt can be seen, half-naked, passed

out on the brass bed.
WHAM!
The front door is kicked open.
It’s Lige.
Without a word he marches past Letty, his angry strides

making deep FOOTPRINTS in the dusty floor.
From its place on the wall Lige snatches Wirt’s .22. He

double-checks that the gun is loaded and carries on into the
bedroom.
Lige takes aim at Wirt’s skull.
Letty tries to SCREAM but her heart is beating almost to

suffocation.
97.
Before pulling the trigger Lige turns back to Letty. He is

boiling over with rage and horror and indescribable sadness.
With his eyes still on her, Lige abruptly turns the gun away
from Wirt and shoves the barrel up under his own chin.
LETTY
DEAR GOD!
WIRT (O.S.)
What in hell are you yellin’ about?
Wirt stands at the bedroom door pulling his shirt on.
As for Lige he’s nowhere in sight. The front door is bolted

from the inside and there are no traces of footprints.
One thing: Wirt’s .22 rifle is missing from the wall.
(O.S.) The SOUNDS OF THE STORM — which still rages outside —

flood back into Letty’s ears.
WIRT (O.S.) (CONT’D)

Get your shoes on and gather up
your belongings.
Wirt stumbles in, eyes full of self-loathing.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Come on, we gotta get movin’.
Before sitting down Wirt tucks in his shirttail.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Ain’t we on speaking terms?
There follows a long silent stare — two damned souls meeting

in Hell.
WIRT (CONT’D)
You ain’t throwing the whole blame
on me. I mean, you was willing
weren’t you?
LETTY
I don’t blame you.
Letty’s tone is a dull misery.
WIRT
So what’s the problem?
Letty shakes her head.

98.
LETTY
The wind knows the truth.
Wirt LAUGHS.
WIRT
Now I heard everything. Well,
missy, you can blame the wind all
ya want, but I don’t think Lige is
gunna see it that way.
LETTY
I know that.
WIRT
When he gets back, there’s no
tellin’ what he may do. Or are ya
thinkin’ Lige won’t figure out what
happened?
LETTY
He won’t have to. I’ll tell him.
WIRT
He’ll take a shotgun to us both.
LETTY
If we’re lucky.
WIRT
Maybe you feel like dyin’ but I’d
rather not. And I’d rather not stay
here and bushwhack a feller if I
don’t have to.
LETTY
You think I’d let you do that.
WIRT
Better that than have Lige hunt us
down.
Wirt gets out of the chair, pulls on his jacket.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Look, I ain’t gunna kill somebody
cuz you ain’t got a brain. And I
ain’t leavin’ you here to get shot.
Now kindly get your duds together
so we can vamoose.
LETTY
I’m all through running away. And
I’m all through being scared.
99.
He lunges toward her, real anger in his eyes.
WIRT
You’re coming with me if I have to
tie ya to my saddle.
From under her dress Letty pulls out the .22 rifle and pokes
it in Wirt’s belly.
Wirt smiles in disbelief.
WIRT (CONT’D)
You gunna shoot me with my own gun?
Letty cocks the hammer.
That wipes the grin off Wirt’s face.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Just calm down, would ya.
LETTY
Don’t worry, I’m not angry. You
shoot a rattlesnake because he’s a
rattlesnake not because you’re
angry at him.
Letty stands, levels the barrel at Wirt’s chest.
WIRT
Look, when we get to Fort Worth
I’ll buy ya a ticket to Virginia.
I’ll give ya the money now.
Wirt reaches inside his jacket but Letty stabs his hand away
with the gun barrel.
LETTY
Virginia isn’t far enough.
WIRT
So I’ve dirtied the whole world for
ya, have I?
LETTY
Don’t give yourself that much
credit. My dirt is my own.
Letty is so palsied with weariness she can’t hold the gun

steady.
For Wirt they’ll never be a better chance. He snaps his hand

out, snatches the gun barrel and jerks it upward.
100.
BANG!
A bullet rips a flap of skin from Wirt’s neck.
Wirt’s hand releases the barrel and clutches the wound.
WIRT
Goddamit.
More angry than hurt he backhands Letty — WHACK! — across the

jaw, knocking her to the floor.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Stupid bitch...
Suddenly BLOOD starts to pump out between his fingers —
BLOOD BY THE PINT.
The bullet must’ve nicked an artery.
Wirt can feel it pouring down his side. He presses his other
hand over the wound.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Sweet Jesus, what’ve ya done to me?
Color drains from his cheeks. He drops to one knee, his

consciousness ebbing fast.
His hands, dripping with blood, claw at Letty’s apron.
Letty pulls away.
WIRT (CONT’D)
Sweet Jesus...
Wirt crawls on all fours then collapses. He rolls onto his

back as the last few ounces of blood pump out of his body.
Letty watches without emotion.
A final strange declaration chokes out through the blood:
WIRT (CONT’D)
I love you.
Wirt exhales long and slow. His eyes fog over with a light
film. One hand, his right, twitches then is still.
In silence Letty becomes fascinated — not with Wirt but with

the POOL OF BLOOD spreading across the floor: How it stains
the wood, drips between the floor boards, reflects the dim
stove light.
101.
Her eyes drift back to Wirt. Only now it’s not his body she
sees —
It is her own lifeless corpse.
Dipping her index finger in the blood Letty writes across the
floor: L-E-T-T-Y.
As she writes she sings:
LETTY
... In a narrow grave just six by
three,
O bury me not on the lone prairie.
CUT TO:
61 EXT. LIGE’S RANCH - MID-MORNING 61
Darkness but still day. Clouds — big black and foreboding —

roil overhead.
FLASHES of LIGHTNING followed by GROWLS of THUNDER.
The door flings open, SPANKS against the wall.
Letty backs her way out dragging Wirt’s body feet first.
It’s an incredible struggle — Letty can’t manage more than

two steps before stopping.
The wind swirls, clawing at her from all directions at once.

Overhead LIGHTNING spiders through the clouds.
Letty collapses, exhausted.
Determination soon picks her back up. After a deep breath she
resets her grip on Wirt’s legs and pulls hard. Through
gritted teeth she mutters in mock-Cora voice:
LETTY
One more step, Nubbin. If you’re
walkin’ through Hell best thing to
do is keep walkin’.
Like a huge serpent Wirt’s body draws a path across the sand
— inch by inch — till it reaches the windbreak fence.
Letty drops Wirt’s legs and stumbles back into the house.
Atop the roof the weather-vane CREAKS over in the opposite

direction. The wind has shifted again.
102.
Letty returns armed with a SHOVEL.
Dutifully she digs, but to no purpose. As usual the wind

mocks her efforts — pushing sand back in the hole as quick as
the shovel scoops it out.
She tosses the shovel aside, drops to her knees and burrows
with both hands.
Meantime the wind — which makes her digging useless — is busy

covering Wirt’s body with sand.
Wirt is half-buried before Letty notices what’s happening.
She stops digging.
Imagine: The wind, her mortal enemy, is now her ally. The
thought makes Letty CACKLE with mad delight.
And what an ally he is. Over the next minute Wirt’s body
disappears completely — as if by magic — swallowed up by the
earth like it never existed.
LIGHTNING BLAZES in celebration.
THUNDER BELLOWS.
Letty turns her face heavenward in thanks.
On her sun-cracked lips there falls:
A SINGLE DROP OF RAIN.
Can it be real? She licks her lips. It’s water all right.
Another drop hits her cheek, another wets her chin.
The dry prairie around her is speckling all over with drops.
It is a light RAIN SHOWER that quickly becomes a DOWNPOUR.
Letty opens her mouth so she can taste every blessed drop.
Water is coming down in buckets.
Spreading her arms wide Letty begins to spin in circles,

round and round, with joyous childish delirious abandon.
It is nothing short of a miracle.
Dizzy with glee Letty flops onto the mud. Only then does she
realize:
103.
The rain is washing away the sand — and uncovering Wirt’s

body.
There is so much water funneling down that Wirt’s body is

being uncovered even faster than it was buried.
And all Letty can do is watch — helplessly, hopelessly — as

her last dreams are washed away.
A FLASH of LIGHTNING lights up Wirt’s unburied face wearing

that white-toothed Lucifer grin of his.
Letty can hear him LAUGHING.
She covers her ears and SCREAMS. She SCREAMS as loud as she
can. But it’s not loud enough.
She can shut out Wirt’s LAUGHTER but not the LAUGHTER of the
wind.
It is the LAUGHTER of all the souls in Hell.
FADE TO BLACK:
(O.S.) Slowly the LAUGHTER fades into SILENCE.
From out of the silence comes:
(O.S.) BIRDSONG
FADE IN:
62 DAWN 62
Pink light sweeps over a prairie come to magical life with

the first rain.
Everything is in vivid bloom.
Yuccas have opened their proud white stalks, prickly pears

are aflame with red blossoms, wildflowers carpet the once-
barren sand.
Jack-rabbits play, prairie dogs dig new homes, birds of all

stripe burst their throats with SINGING.
It is a bliss born of perfect beauty.
Galloping into view is the BLACK MARE. What a magnificent

animal she is: tall, proud, indomitable.
She sniffs the clear air and paws the ground — almost as an
invitation.
104.
Stepping forward to meet her is Letty — as Eden-fresh as that

first day on the train. She is wearing her white party dress
which dazzles in the morning sunshine.
Gently Letty strokes the mare’s nose. The mare responds

warmly to her touch.
LETTY (V.O.)
Among the wild horses of the plains
there would be one mare, fleet and
strong and cunning, that could
never be trapped by man, that
never felt the snap of the whip or
the sting of the spur — a lead mare
that raced over the prairies at
will, uncaptured and uncapturable.
A being forever free.
Letty vaults onto the mare’s back, whispers in her ear. The
mare nods as if in agreement.
Together they gallop off toward the distant horizon.
LETTY (V.O.)
She has fled to other prairies,
vast and fenceless, where man has
not intruded.
The two move as one, horse and rider outrunning the wind.
Letty breathes deep the pure air. Never before has she looked
so at peace.
LETTY (V.O.)
And now she is known only in
legend.
They are far away, too far away to be heard. But listen close
and perhaps you’ll hear Letty’s voice whispering a soft
secret.
FADE TO BLACK.
THE END.

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The Wind Rev1st Draft 080717

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UNTITLED WESTERN

Revised 1st Draft: August 07, 2017

WGAw Registered: 1907803

A blush of pink appears along a low flat horizon.

The first breath of WIND arrives carrying with it a SOFT

It begins its work, this primal force, carving faint patterns

Ripples, twists, swirls, and spirals. Sand patterns divide

Quick as they were born the winds die away.

Away far off something is silently stirring up a SMALL

Breaking the quietude: A loud metallic CLANK followed by the

We are on the move, as if on a train. Slow, to begin.

Our original grim vista slides out of view and is replaced

CLICK-CLACK, CLICK-CLACK. Picking up speed.

This green vista is replaced by an OCEAN OF YELLOW WHEAT.

CLICK-CLACK, CLICK-CLACK. Faster still.

Next comes an ORCHARD aflame with RED CHERRIES, followed by

Letty’s Voice rejoins us repeating a single word to the

Her voice is younger now and more insistent — a wishing

NEW PROSPECTS appear and disappear in ever accelerating

ABRUPTLY WE SWEEP INTO A TUNNEL. IN THE BLACKNESS, REFLECTED

2 INT. PULLMAN PASSENGER CAR - DAY 2

Here sits LETTY MASON.

She is slight, almost childish despite her eighteen years.

Aside from Letty there are a half-dozen other PASSENGERS —

OUTSIDE, things are decidedly less magical:

The dominant color is gray. The trees which stretch on

The Conductor’s caterpillar eyebrows crinkle up in utter

A LOUD CHORTLE erupts from behind the Dallas News.

DALLAS NEWS (O.S.)

Other passengers join in the LAUGHTER.

Letty’s cheeks redden.

The Dallas News is lowered, revealing WIRT RODDY — primped,

A new round of LAUGHTER, only this time Letty LAUGHS too.

To Wirt that’s an invitation. Lickety-split he’s down the

He offers his hand.

Wirt cringes, nods yes.

By Letty’s quizzical face she hasn’t quite understood.

Letty nods assent.

IN LETTY’S DREAM VIEW: A young hand scratches L-E-T-T-Y into

Letty slumps into her seat.

Despite the steel in Wirt’s voice, Letty simply can’t believe

Letty’s eyes hold fear of the future but no fear of Wirt.

Letty reads the envelope’s very frilly feminine script:

Tucked inside the envelope is a letter. Before Letty can read

Letty runs the empty envelope under her nose.

Letty shuts her eyes, smiles.

Wirt CHUCKLES with delight and amazement.

3 EXT. TEXAS PRAIRIE - DAY 3

Alongside the track there’s what’s left of the CARCASS of a

In the unfenced pasture beyond, grazing on dead bunch-grass

As the TRAIN passes its whistle lets out a SHRILL HOOT.

4 INT. PULLMAN PASSENGER CAR - DAY 4

(O.S.) A dull THUD.

Letty’s eyes go wide in horror.

Wirt slides the window open.

From inside his jacket he draws a SHORT-BARRELED .44

Letty recoils in disgust.

Wirt holsters his piece, nudges the window shut.

He presses it into Letty’s hand and pulls another APPLE from

Wirt notices that Letty notices.

That causes Letty to examine her apple a bit more carefully.

Reluctantly Letty takes a bite. This pleases Wirt no end.

5 EXT. TEXAS PRAIRIE - SUNSET 5