REDBURN From Man to Boy – His First Voyage – A Filmscript - 4. Part 4 – The Way Back & Part 5 – Home

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[Part 4 – The Way Back – I: A Fresh Start]

EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE HIGHLANDER – TWILIGHT

The ship exits the Mersey estuary. REDBURN and HARRY, newly arrayed in sailor garb, work together happily. They go up the bulwark, lean over and catch a last glimpse of Liverpool: of masts, spires, birds and dramatic clouds.

 

BEGIN ‘SMOOTH SAILING’ MONTAGE:

(different clothes each time – series of days)

■ EXT. MAIN DECK – MORNING

Redburn and Harry scrub the deck, barefoot and in shirtsleeve – more playing than working.

■ EXT. RIGGING – AFTERNOON

Redburn and Harry horse around and laugh in the sparkling sunshine. The water looks tropical from up here.

■ EXT. QUARTERDECK – DUSK

Harry stands and sings by the rail overlooking the main deck. The crew pause, listening to Harry’s beautiful voice.

■ INT. FORECASTLE – NIGHT

Harry climbs over Redburn getting into their bunk. Harry sidles up and rests his head on Redburn’s chest. Redburn plays with Harry’s curly locks.

■ INT. FORECASTLE – LATE NIGHT

Blunt sleep-massages his scalp in front of a mirror. Redburn and Harry hush-finger each other, suppressing laughter.

■ INT. FORECASTLE – MORNING

Redburn and Harry break biscuits over each other’s head. The crew laugh.

■ INT. OF THE LONGBOAT – NOON

Redburn rests his head on Harry’s chest. Harry picks biscuit crumbs out of Redburn’s hair.

■ EXT. MAIN DECK – AFTERNOON

Redburn and Harry coil rope together as a team, while Blunt and Dutchie make ‘ain’t it cute’ gestures.

■ EXT. MAIN DECK – AFTERNOON

From another angle, Jackson’s invidious eye glowers on the same scene.

END ‘SMOOTH SAILING’ MONTAGE.

 

[Part 4 – II: Relief]

EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE HIGHLANDER – EVENING

HARRY works alone chinking, stooped over by the bulwarks. THE GREENLANDER comes up behind him, glancing around. He touches Harry’s backside with a bit of force. Harry looks up into his eyes, then stands to face him.

 

THE GREENLANDER

(licks his lips)

How about it?

 

HARRY

I ain’t in the game anymore. Stop asking me.

 

THE GREENLANDER

(clicks his tongue)

Who’s gonna believe that? Once a three-shilling wagtail, always one. Don’t make me ask you again.

I might not be so nice the next time I feel sporting.

 

Harry looks both ways; turns sad eyes on The Greenlander.

 

HARRY

You want to hurt Redburn? Or are you just looking

for some relief…?

 

The Greenlander is momentarily taken aback, but slowly recovers with a grin. As he steps closer to Harry, his tone grows sweet.

 

THE GREENLANDER

Whichever one you want to believe, nug.

 

Harry looks around again; nods. The Greenlander leads him to the tool shop.

 

[Part 4 – III: Ahab’s Tormenter]

EXT. COOKHOUSE OF THE HIGHLANDER – AFTERNOON

The slate says: “Rev. Doctor Thompson, 16 Forecastle Sq.” A bright day, the sails SNAP cheerily above. The COOK bustles about. He’s laid the skirt of an old coat as a doormat, and LAVENDER leans on the wall watching REDBURN pick oakum. Lavender tries to sound disinterested.

 

LAVENDER

Your new bunkmate suit you? He better

than me?

 

REDBURN

(looks up)

Not better – different – we’re equals. We don’t play games.

 

The Cook comes out with a ringbolt. He noisily attaches it to the doorframe. He loudly knocks it several times.

 

LAVENDER

(to Redburn)

Careful what you wish for. Others could take it away for sport.

 

As the import of what the boy has threatened hits Redburn, the Cook calls out.

 

COOK

There! Now, boys, if you wish to call on me, just use my knocker.

 

The Cook stands back to admire it in pride. He suddenly

remembers something.

 

COOK (CONT’D)

Oh, Redburn, you are a learnèd boy. Let me ask you….

 

The Cook disappears into the cookhouse; pots and

pans CLANK.

 

REDBURN

(to Lavender)

Being equal means you trust equally.

 

Lavender chortles in contempt. The Cook comes out with his well-worn bible; it is tied with a cord. He grabs a stool and sits by Redburn.

 

COOK

Now – let me find it….

 

He opens the cord and pulls on a bookmark. He asks as he flips through pages.

 

COOK

Tell me what I’m supposed to think of this here lesson. Yes – 2 Chronicles – this one.

(READS)

‘Now therefore, behold, the LORD hath put a lying spirit in the mouth of these thy prophets,

and the LORD hath spoken Evil against thee.’

 

The Cook closes the book and leans into Redburn with earnest tones.

 

COOK (CONT’D)

He’s talking to Ahab. God’s decided Ahab ain’t fit no more to be a leader. But – and this is what I puzzle over – can God ‘speak Evil?’ If God can ‘speak Evil,’ then what chance do any men have in this world to do what’s right? You tell me what I’m supposed to think.

 

REDBURN

That assertion of God doing evil deeds against those he created, his children…

 

Redburn glances at Lavender.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

…Is a mystery no one can explain. It’s like saying a father would delight in the ruin of his son over any effort to guide him.

 

The Cook appears downcast; his worst fears confirmed.

 

COOK

We don’t stand a chance. If God decides to do us an Evil; an Evil is done. Done in His name.

 

REDBURN

But, if you’re really asking my opinion….

 

The Cook nods.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

…We’d all do best to head Saint Paul, and set that ‘old’ testament stuff aside. We should take the saint’s advice, and turn our lives charitably to live with others, in faith, hope…

 

Redburn silently pleads with Lavender.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

…And love.

 

Lavender stands and starts to stalk off. The Cook has a breakthrough of spirit. He stands too.

 

COOK

Yes. Old Ahab was misled – but we

don’t have to be.

 

The Cook deftly puts his hand out and stops Lavender. He spins him and sits him forcefully on the stool by Redburn. Lavender looks up at the Cook like the doctor’s a dangerous man. But the Cook is more sympathetic than anything else.

 

COOK

(to Lavender)

Now, you, young man – I know you to be a sad profligate and gay deceiver ashore,

addicted to every youthful indiscretion—

 

Lavender tries to rise; his mouth hard in determination to get away. But the Cook only holds Lavender’s shoulders in place.

 

COOK (CONT’D)

I worry about you, son. I want you to live content, without burden. You understand me?

 

Lavender’s face changes; the Cook unhands him.

 

COOK (CONT’D)

Both of you boys – listen up.

 

The Cook begins pacing like a preacher, his bible getting thoroughly thumped in the process.

 

COOK (CONT’D)

See how we act? We look down upon the Turk; abhor the cannibal; but may not some of them gain the heaven we seek before us? We fancy, because of what we wear, we have civilized bodies, but these fancy clothes house barbarous souls. We may have eyes, but be blind to the real sights of the world; ears, but deaf to its voice; life, but dead to its deaths.

 

The Cook raises Lavender’s chin.

 

COOK (CONT’D)

And not until we know that one grief willfully paid to another outweighs ten thousand joys stored for ourselves, will we become what Christ was striving to make us. You lad, break too many hearts…

 

The Cook glances at Redburn.

 

COOK (CONT’D)

…Both on land, and at sea.

 

Lavender rises with the slow wrath of the falsely accused. He teeters between racking sobs and violent anger.

 

LAVENDER

And what it’s true? What’s that got to do with me! I’m not the one going after anyone, so why blame me if they feel like I’m fair game? Hell, no. Take your blaming and shaming and use on yourself if you want. Or better yet, use on the ones who go after kids like me! Why blame me and try to shame me when it’s them; when it’s their ‘sin,’ and not mine.

 

Lavender leaves, but turns back to Redburn and the Cook, his mouth nearly foaming with rage.

 

LAVENDER (CONT’D)

Blame God for making them that way –

not their victims!

 

[Part 4 – IV: Get the Benches, Boys]

INT. FORECASTLE OF THE HIGHLANDER – NIGHT

A couple of lamps are lit. One is balanced on the knee of REDBURN sitting on a stool and writing to his mother. Sounds of peaceful sleep spill from the bunks, except one. Miguel’s bunk is now open; BLUNT tosses there and mutters with increasing loudness. Redburn cautiously rises and takes the light to peer into Blunt’s face – the sleeping man is anguished.

 

BLUNT

(asleep)

The benches boys, get the benches. Judgment…day…

 

Blunt bolts up and knocks Redburn back on his heels. Blunts wakes himself as he shouts.

 

BLUNT (CONT’D)

…Is coming!

 

Blunt is frightened to see how afraid Redburn looks in the lamplight.

 

REDBURN

You were dreaming. You all right?

 

Blunt shakes his head a moment like a dog. He grabs onto the top of Redburn’s shoulders to help him while he jumps out of his bunk.

 

BLUNT

It was awful. The last day, boy. No more chance to get it right – no more chances. But that’s not all.

 

Blunt whispers in Redburn’s ear.

 

BLUNT (CONT’D)

A portent – one of us must die before we reach New York – one of us.

 

Blunt glares and nods frightfully at Harry who is sound asleep. Redburn is horrified.

 

[Part 4 – V: Love in a Longboat]

INT. LONGBOAT OF THE HIGHLANDER – AFTERNOON

An ascending view shows blue skies through the rigging. The sails flap in gentle midday languor. A descending view into the bottom of the boat shows REDBURN and HARRY lying head to foot, but with their heads aligned with the other’s thighs. Their jackets are spread below them, their sleeves are rolled up and their feet are bare. Harry is humming a lovely melody, softly so just Redburn can hear. Redburn sighs, locks his arm around Harry’s legs and uses his thigh for a pillow. He makes up lyrics for Harry’s song. He begins to sing softly.

 

REDBURN

(SINGS)

“A sweet thing is a song

Gentle and liquid

As it meanders along

Through thoughts the softest,

Drawn to be the sweetest song.

 

Tis a musical brook

That winds and wanders

To pied by the grassy nook

Where grow the tallest

Margins of the heart forsook."

 

HARRY

You make me sound like Orpheus, taming panthers and tigers with song.

 

REDBURN

More like Bacchus – who stole aboard a ship, a boy like us, and when the sailors deemed

to have him, he trans-morphed into a black leopard to rip them apart.

 

Redburn lets loose of Harry, and props himself on elbows.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

You have been afforded the respect I was denied coming on board this ship. I’m glad. You don’t realize how miserable I was going over. Alone, forlorn, I found myself a sort of Ishmael. Without a single friend or companion, I began to feel a hatred growing for the whole crew. So much so, that I prayed against it; that it might not master my heart completely; that it not make a fiend within me – something hideous, like that within Jackson.

 

HARRY

So you would have me be the Bacchus leopard?

 

REDBURN

(chuckles)

That’s all over now.

 

Redburn spins around, lies down with his armpit just higher than Harry’s head.

 

HARRY

Let’s switch out Ovid for a topic with New York. Soon we’ll be there.

 

Redburn forces his arm under Harry’s head. He rolls Harry’s head onto his chest. Redburn strokes Harry’s locks. Harry, unseen by Redburn, looks utterly desolate.

 

REDBURN

Soon.

 

HARRY

I don’t want the voyage to be over. It’s always the going that matters, not the getting.

You deserve better than my kind. I don’t warrant the blessings of your goodness on me.

 

Redburn kicks back with a leg and rolls Harry firmly on his arm. He wipes Harry’s tears with his thumb.

 

REDBURN

Who’s luckier than I? You tell me that.

 

Redburn kisses Harry tenderly. Then with equal reciprocation, they make out with sustained and happy abandon.

 

EXT. LONGBOAT OF THE HIGHLANDER

JACKSON presses his ear to the hull of the boat. He rights himself and plots his treachery.

 

[Part 4 – VI: In the Center of the All]

EXT. HELM OF THE HIGHLANDER – TWILIGHT

THE GREENLANDER is instructing REDBURN on how to steer. The setting sun falls before the prow of the ship.

 

THE GREENLANDER

Hold your hands just so – easy motions now – and keep your eyes on the compass.

 

The Greenlander takes his hands off of Redburn’s and steps back akimbo.

 

THE GREENLANDER (CONT’D)

Easy with her….

 

REDBURN

(after a long pause)

I hope you haven’t hardened your heart against me.

 

THE GREENLANDER

(looks around agitated)

Hush, boy. Don’t let others hear you talk that way – not to me.

 

REDBURN

I was young; green. I didn’t know I was doing anything at all. I just hope you understand.

 

The Greenlander gazes at the back of Redburn’s head, longing to comfort him – to turn back the clock – instead he toughens his voice.

 

THE GREENLANDER

Luft, boy. Not too much. Gentle tillage is always called or.

(pause – softly)

You’re still green.

 

REDBURN

I know.

 

THE GREENLANDER

Do ye? Do you know what they call a tar who cannot merely hand, reef or steer – a mariner better than his ability to run aloft, furl sail, haul ropes or stand at the wheel? It is nothing fancy, but to a true seaman’s heart, it is the proudest thing he can be named – a sailorman. Though we despise his hatred, such a man is Jackson. Lesser would shrink off to waste away on land, but he wants to push off standing at duty; to die a hero; a sailor. Do you think you could be such a sailorman, young one?

 

REDBURN

Aye. I am learning, but still I give my crewmates the goodwill of my muscles and backbone – small as it is – as a lever to use as they need. Archimedes said he could move the world itself, as long as he had a lever meant to the task.

 

THE GREENLANDER

Archimedes? What did he know of a sailor’s life? Sailors, boy, are a certain reckless lot prone to sentiment and sensuality. We are borne aloft on the tides friendless, save a rare special case, and carried beyond the reach of the good influence of family, and love, and after the privations of a long journey, set adrift in a foreign port to seek solace, alone. Most old tars are old drunks because of it. If not drunk of body, then drunk with hate for both breeze and calm – hate for both good and evil – like Jackson.

(brightening)

You want to be a sailor, nug? Harangued by dockside, soul-damning clergymen; robbed by barmen and hustlers; regarded by gentlefolk as but little above a brute.

(tender)

You want to be a sailorman, boy?

 

Redburn can feel the heated words of The Greenlander soaking the nape of his neck along with the pull and shudder of the tiller through his palms. He squints at the disc of the sun nearing the horizon, and inhales a smiling breath of sea air.

 

REDBURN

Aye, for times like these. For times when sailors can be honest with themselves as with no one else. Times when the ship bounds like a horse, wind-impelled to plunge along and cut the foam from her prow. Every mast and timber pulsing with life and joy. I feel it as a wild exulting in my own heart: one delirious throb at the center of the All, bound around this world, to go reeling with the planets in their orbits, to respond in my heart with peace to the wild commotion of the outer circles. Yes. Yes, I want to be a sailor.

 

After a pause, The Greenlander places his hand on Redburn’s shoulder.

 

THE GREENLANDER

Good, lad. A sailorman you shall be.

 

From over the backs of their heads, a rising view shows the rigging of the ship sway; her prow piercing the heart of the orange heart of the setting sun, and how small the Highlander is on the watery vastness.

 

[Part 4 – VII: Holy Orders]

EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE HIGHLANDER – NOON

Tar simmers black and fuming in an iron cauldron. It is set in the open on a brazier. JACKSON stirs it and broods how it seems a precursor to hellish torment. There are several small buckets at his feet. The SECOND MATE strides up, with REDBURN and HARRY in tow.

 

SECOND MATE

Aloft with that. Take the boys and show them how to seal any cracks in the main-top-yard.

 

JACKSON

(spite-laden)

Aye, aye, Mr. Riggs.

 

Redburn steps up and takes a bucket. Jackson ladles in some tar, and Redburn moves off towards the mainmast rope ladder. Harry takes a bucket and holds it level with the cauldron. As Jackson stirs, he speaks into the blackness.

 

JACKSON

You should enter into Holy Orders when you get to New York.

 

HARRY

(puzzled)

Why?

 

Jackson’s head slowly turns on him – his bad eye glinting.

 

JACKSON

Because, pogue, you are a profane coward. Just the type to think dropping to your knees before Christ absolves all your other knee-dropping before men; those who are hard, with pieces of silver bulging their pockets.

 

Jackson ‘accidentally’ splashes a drop of tar on Harry’s hand. The boy screams, drops the bucket and rubs the tar off with his sleeve. He turns pained eyes on Jackson, silently pleading ‘why?’

 

JACKSON (CONT’D)

A foretaste of the hellfires that await you – and all your kind – punk. Would I had some feathers….

 

Jackson laughs manically, which turns into a lung-churning fit of coughing. He uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth – it comes away smirched with black blood.

 

EXT. MAIN-TOP-YARD

HARRY, with bandaged hand, is slushing tar on the yard near the port side.

 

EXT. MAIN-TOPGALLANT-YARD

JACKSON, on the yard above, peers down on HARRY. He is positioning himself to be directly over the boy. From Jackson’s point of view, Harry is oblivious to his presence. He begins to tip his bucket of steaming tar.

 

EXT. MAINMAST TOPGALLANT SHROUDS

REDBURN, on the rope ladder just above JACKSON, shouts out.

 

REDBURN

Look out below!

 

EXT. MAIN-TOP-YARD

HARRY looks up, and nearly falls, avoiding the burning tar. Harry looks down to see members of the CREW scramble as Jackson’s tar and bucket splatter and sizzle on the deck.

 

EXT. MAIN-TOPGALLANT-YARD

REDBURN has jumped on, and is forcing JACKSON backwards; out to the end of the yard. Redburn unsheathes his jackknife and holds it up. Jackson begins to cough; each cough lessening his supply of balance and oxygen. Jackson fumbles to pull Blunt’s knife out, but once he does, it slips from his hand. It falls towards the moving ocean far below. Finally, Jackson stops; he’s run out of yardarm. He looks down a moment; at the blood on his hand, then rights himself defiantly.

 

REDBURN

I said I could throw you over, if need be.

 

JACKSON

(coughs)

Come and do it, baby-boy.

 

Redburn takes a step, but stops. Jackson’s coughing grows violent; he is barely able to stand. His sputum horrifies Redburn as it stains the sail with increasing sprays of putrid red. Jackson stops, catches his breath in desperate wheezes, and eyes Redburn. He rises, wipes his mouth and pulls back a hand coated in blood. Blood smears his chin, and trails down his neck to tinge the collar of his tee-shirt. A maniacal calm suddenly washes over the dying man – his plot can come to a kind of success.

 

JACKSON (CONT’D)

I said it lad, your sail may be rising; mine falling, but I can yet do you a harm. See this? See this blood of mine staining your memory – treat it with the gall and enmity that my humor has against the whole world you inherit. Grudge it, boy, as I have done, like mankind does you wrong as if one person. From now, it rankles and festers in your heart, as it did mine. It’s for you, boy – you who kills me. Live with it, until you come to your own wheezing last breath, like mine.

 

Jackson steps off the yardarm. Redburn rushes over. He sees Jackson plunge in the water, and the Highlander placidly glides by the foaming spot he disappeared beneath.

 

[Part 4 – VIII: Quiet to Unquiet Men]

EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE HIGHLANDER – NIGHT

In the space before the quarterdeck, BLUNT, DUTCHIE, and THE GREENLANDER play cards, smoke and furtively pass a flask around. Their cards are on a wooden crate between them. REDBURN and HARRY sit off a bit. They hold hands shielded by their bodies, so that the others cannot see.

 

THE GREENLANDER

(squints – cheroot clenched in his teeth)

Oh, what I wouldn’t bet to win a reprieve from looking at you ugly lot.

 

BLUNT

(under his breath)

Here we go.

 

The Greenlander slams a card down, extracts his cigar and exhales in gloating triumph.

 

THE GREENLANDER

I’d much rather be looking at one of the lovelies I keep tucked away in port. You should see my gal in Stockholm…

 

The Greenlander makes a buxom gesture.

 

THE GREENLANDER (CONT’D)

…And my Copenhagen lass; as sweet as honied-wine.

 

DUTCHIE

As for the ‘ladies’ that interest your raggedy sort, I have nothing to say. For women are like creeds –

if you cannot speak well of one – don’t speak ill of any!

 

BLUNT

Amen!

 

Redburn pulls up Harry’s hand; examines his burn. It is healing. He sets Harry’s palm openly on top of his thigh, puts his hand on top of it.

 

HARRY

Don’t let…his…memory trouble you.

 

REDBURN

(means it)

I don’t. Live by the sword…live with hate,

die with it too.

 

Blunt glances at the boys. He smiles and winks at them.

 

BLUNT

But, Dutchie, correct my misperceptions, but I believe I’ve seen you with wives too? Yes, in New York, Redburn, you’ll see a certain ‘Molly’ is one of the first persons aboard, smelling of grass and sweet water. And you should see, Harry, in Liverpool, an ‘Abigail’ grabs and pinches Dutchie in the most shocking spousal affection.

 

REDBURN

(laughs)

What are you Dutchie, a Joseph Smith

at sea?

 

Dutchie stands in sham peevishness.

 

DUTCHIE

(remarks directed at Blunt too)

Watch it, boys, you’re none of you too big for me to bend over my knee.

 

The Greenlander stands as well; stretches.

 

THE GREENLANDER

Let’s have a song. Harry…

 

The Greenlander pulls him up.

 

THE GREENLANDER (CONT’D)

…You sing. Remind us old men what it means to be young!

 

The Greenlander lifts Harry onto the case. The Greenlander winks and smacks Harry’s backside in genuine affection. The men line up in a semi-circle facing Harry and the quarterdeck. While Harry sings, LAVENDER strolls up to the quarterdeck railing to watch. As the song concludes, a lingering view of the faces of the men reveal a melting of crusty personas; while a final shot stays on Redburn. He looks miserably sad as he realizes just how much in love he is.

 

HARRY

(SINGS)

“Now, music is a holy thing –

Its notes, its rumble,

However humble,

Cannot touch a single heartstring

If played by a hand unwilling,

For those who will bruise

Pan’s poorest reed, abuse

The God of Song’s horned voice to sing.

 

For young and old I have a song:

Love-airs, which women think the best;

Gay tunes, where the sad most belong;

Sad sounds, upon the agèd rest.

 

When’er I draw a crowd, I know

Which face from whom the mood will suit,

And from who the silver might flow

To show I please such feelings mute.

 

I ply sad songs to the merry,

Light airs to the morose who stay,

While the rich for low tunes terry

And the poor sop ballads all day.

 

Yet, men there are who’d rather me

Share my room than the voice they find –

To them I know the value be

Quiet to an unquiet mind.”

 

(recap: “Now, music…” etc.)

  

When Harry finishes, the men clap heartily. After Harry takes a bow, he hears Lavender clapping behind him. He turns, and in a close view of Harry’s profile, a lecherous grin spread his lips. A wicked sparkle lights his eye as he winks.

 

[Part 4 – IX: Servicing]

EXT. MAIN DECK OF THE HIGHLANDER – AFTERNOON

Members of the CREW go about their duties. REDBURN searches among them. He asks a group of them including DUTCHIE.

 

REDBURN

Have you seen Harry?

 

DUTCHIE

Aye, lad. I saw him aft.

 

INT. DOOR OF TOOL SHED LOOKING TO DECK

REDBURN walks on deck towards the door; he has not a care in the world. He comes into the doorframe, bracing his hands on either side. His face slowly sinks.

 

INT. TOOL SHED

On the opposite wall from the door, LAVENDER leans back as HARRY, on his knees, services him. Neither sees REDBURN.

 

INT. DOOR OF TOOL SHED LOOKING TO DECK

REDBURN runs from the door. He staggers like he can barely see.

 

EXT. STARBOARD BOW SECTION

REDBURN stumbles up to the bulwarks. He braces his hands on it, then from elbow to fingertip wipes his eyes with his sleeve. Still the tears roll freely, and he pounds the top rail with clenched fists, but then he blinks a few times. More eye-wiping and concentrated focus is given to something far away. He swallows hard.

 

REDBURN

(softly to himself)

Land…

(top of lungs)

Land-Ho!

 

A chorus of ‘Land-Ho’ rockets back along the deck. Redburn leans as far over the bulwark as he dare, grabbing some rigging for support.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

(softly to himself)

Home.

 

EXT. LAND IN THE DISTANCE – DAY – LATER

Rocky green cliffs linger in the hazy distance. White dots of seafowl rove the air in what appears from this distance to be slow motion; blue skies and painterly white clouds drift above all.

 

[Part 5 – Home – I: Take It/Take Care]

EXT. MAIN DECK AT GANGPLANK OF THE HIGHLANDER – AFTERNOON

HARRY, with his bag, runs up to the edge of the gangplank. He excitedly calls and waves his arm.

 

HARRY

Come on, lad!

 

Harry goes down, making heavy FOOTFALLS.

 

EXT. MAIN DECK LOOKING STERN

REDBURN comes running, bag on shoulder. He begins to slow down, seeing something by the gangplank.

 

EXT. MAIN DECK AT GANGPLANK

REDBURN slows. In front of him, THE GREENLANDER holds up his right hand like a stop sign, while his left slowly extracts something from his waistband. He meets Redburn’s gaze as he slowly hands over his favorite green and white scarf.

 

THE GREENLANDER

Take it.

 

The Greenlander presses it into Redburn’s hand. He steps back.

 

THE GREENLANDER (CONT’D)

Remember me, sometimes – when you stand at the helm.

 

The Greenlander is almost emotional; he glances about the deck.

 

THE GREENLANDER (CONT’D)

Just – take care.

 

Redburn forces the man to hold his eyes. He slowly brings the scarf to his nose and inhales deeply. A moment later, he runs down the gangplank.

 

EXT. BULWARKS BY GANGPLANK

THE GREENLANDER leans over, watches REDBURN join up with HARRY on the dock below.

 

THE GREENLANDER (CONT’D)

(quietly)

I’m sorry he broke your heart.

 

[Part 5 – II: My Oyster]

EXT. LOWER MANHATTAN WHARF STREET – NOON

The same small square as before, only today it is bright. The area looks cleaner; there is less traffic. The PEOPLE are fewer and seem happier; more optimistic.

 

EXT. LOWER MANHATTAN WHARF

REDBURN and HARRY walk towards us. Behind them rise the masts and riggings of tall ships. They are both eating pork pies from newspaper wrappers. They drink from a shared ginger beer bottle.

 

EXT. LOWER MANHATTAN WHARF STREET

REDBURN and HARRY stop before the square. The funnels of the green and white ferries are off to their left. The boys finish up their pies and toss the wrappers in the gutter. Harry takes a swig, and pans around broadly with the bottle.

 

HARRY

I do believe this New York of yours will be my oyster. Yes. I do have an inkling my wits will be a match for the place.

 

REDBURN

(grabs the bottle)

I have no doubt you will be master of your domain, Harry Bolton. No doubt.

 

HARRY

(mood deflates)

You are a good, fine-natured fellow, Redburn. Too good for the likes of me.

 

Redburn jocularly elbows him.

 

REDBURN

Don’t I know it!

 

HARRY

(takes Redburn’s hand)

And – I need not tell you how sorry I am to be leaving you so soon.

 

REDBURN

(heartily)

We’ll see each other again! We might even ship together. I fear I’ve gained my sea-legs,

and will soon be land-sick and queasy.

 

Harry blinks in the sad acknowledgement that they will never see one another after this.

 

HARRY

Farewell, old chum.

 

As seen from close to their hands, Harry extracts his fingers from the still-grasping touch of Redburn’s. Harry runs across the street, into the heart of the square. He meets up with LAVENDER, and throws his arm around his shoulder. As he leads Lavender off, Lavender turns and glances at Redburn. The retreating pair melt into the crowd. A ferry whistle BLOWS and breaks Redburn’s stupor. He sets the bottle down, and pats coat pockets with both hands. He opens a flap and withdraws a battered and faded yellow pawn ticket. He dashes across the street.

 

[Part 5 – III: Not Enough]

EXT. “PORT-OF-CALL PAWN SHOPPE” – AFTERNOON

The door opens; the bell RINGS. REDBURN comes out with the gun case under his arm and closes the door behind him. As he turns around; he freezes in his tracks. PETER stands in front of him.

 

REDBURN

(shy half-smile)

Good afternoon, brother.

 

PETER

You look well; well-tanned, at least.

 

Redburn holds the fowling piece for Peter to take.

 

PETER (CONT’D)

You keep it. You’ve earned the right. But now we have a ferry to catch, and your mother is expecting some reading material from you.

 

REDBURN

(grins)

Oh – I’ve got enough for a book – one hell

of a book….

 

PETER

Swearing, brother?

 

Redburn shrugs. Peter steps up and puts an affectionate arm around Redburn’s shoulder. Redburn responds by hugging his brother’s waist, hard. Peter lowers his other arm and hugs him back.

 

REDBURN (CONT’D)

It’s good to be home.

 

EXT. STREET ALONG FERRY DOCKS

REDBURN and PETER walk away with their backs to us; Peter with his hand on Redburn’s shoulder, Redburn with his arm around his brother’s waist.

 

PETER (V.O.)

Well, brother – have you had adventure enough?

 

REDBURN (V.O.)

Adventure?! More than expected, but not enough. Not enough for a lifetime.

I fancy I must hie me to the sea again: to the sea, brother! To the sea.

 

END CREDITS.

While the credits roll, another version of the title SONG “Loomings” plays, starting from the second strophe. There are shots of a blue plate-glass sky with cotton candy clouds. A forest of tall ships in their berths stands against the azure with arms and rigging akimbo. Over and above them, seagulls course and cry.

 

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