461 lines
23 KiB
Text
461 lines
23 KiB
Text
Title: MEMORY ROAD
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Credit: Chapter One - a word-for-word screenplay
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Author: from the novel by Dick Schmidt
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Draft date: 2026-09-20
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Notes: Every spoken word is the novel's, in the novel's order. Nothing is added to a mouth. Where the book reports speech without giving the words, the moment plays MOS (we see them talk; we do not hear it). Prose has become direction.
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====
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INT. KAREN'S HOUSE, SILVER SPRING, MARYLAND - KITCHEN - NIGHT
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A lived-in family kitchen in an older house: school papers under a magnet, two boys' backpacks slumped by the door. KAREN KENNY, 44, in a grey sweater and jeans, stands with a white cordless handset to her ear. It rings. And rings. She shifts her weight. It keeps ringing.
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INTERCUT WITH:
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INT. MASTERSON HOUSE, BOCA RATON, FLORIDA - FAMILY ROOM - NIGHT
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A small, neat Bermuda-style house. A corded beige telephone rings on a side table. STEWART MASTERSON, 70s, silver-haired, still carrying himself like a man who ran things, sits in his armchair in a pale polo shirt and khakis, looking at a framed photograph of a woman - HELEN - as if the phone were in another house. At last he picks up.
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KAREN
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(quietly, relieved he answered)
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Hi, Daddy. It's Karen. How are you doing?
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MASTERSON
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I'm fine, just a little lonely right now. Have you given any more thought to a visit? I know your mother would like it if you could spend more time with me.
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Karen closes her eyes. Opens them.
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KAREN
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(exasperated)
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Daddy! I was just there last week; don't you remember? You spent all your time at the mausoleum. I came all the way down there to be with you, but you spent most of your time visiting Mom. Please, Dad, you need to find some other interests. Mom's been gone almost a year now. You need to rebuild your life. Have you given any thought to what we talked about?
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Masterson searches the room for the answer. It is not there.
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MASTERSON
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(confused)
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I don't remember; what did we talk about?
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KAREN
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We talked about you being around other people, friends, who can help you rebuild your life. You can't spend all your waking hours visiting Mom's ashes in a cemetery. We all miss her. I'm worried about you; things are piling up. Don't you remember I had to pay all your bills for you? FPL was getting ready to cut off your electricity.
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On his side table: a drift of unopened envelopes.
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MASTERSON
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I know; I'm getting behind. I'll try to catch up, I promise. I just miss her so much; it seems even more lately. The only time I feel I know what I'm doing is when I visit her. I'm more comfortable there. She's always there for me, and the mausoleum is open twenty-four hours, so I can go when I feel the need.
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KAREN
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Daddy, this is more serious than you want to admit. I want to talk to you again about moving back up to Maryland to live with me and the kids. I can help you out if you are nearby, and the kids would love it if Grandpa was always around.
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She hears how that sounds to a man who has never been anyone's burden. She changes tack.
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KAREN (CONT'D)
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And you would be a big help looking after them. It would be nice to have a man around the house again.
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Masterson SIGHS. A long pause. Only the line's faint hiss.
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KAREN (CONT'D)
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Daddy, are you there?
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He SIGHS again.
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MASTERSON
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Yes, I'm still here. You know, that would be nice, but I don't think I can be that far away from Helen for so long, you know?
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Karen presses the heel of her hand to her forehead. Thinks.
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KAREN
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(carefully)
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You know, you could bring her with you. There are lots of nice chapels and memorial parks around here where she could be nearby, and you could still visit whenever you wanted.
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Nothing from him. She knows better than to push.
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KAREN (CONT'D)
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We miss you too, Dad.
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On the refrigerator behind her, a Florida DMV renewal notice addressed to her father, clipped under a magnet. Her eyes go to it. She decides against it.
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KAREN (CONT'D)
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Well, just think about it for now, Dad. I'll call you later in the week. Why don't you call one of your friends and play golf, or something. It may do you good, and take your mind off of Mom for a few hours.
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MASTERSON
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Okay, Karen, whatever you say.
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KAREN
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Love you, Daddy. Goodnight.
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MASTERSON
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Love you too, sweetie.
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He hangs up and turns back to Helen's photograph.
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END INTERCUT.
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INT. KAREN'S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
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Karen sets the handset down and stays where she is for a long moment.
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She slides a manila folder from under the school papers and opens it on the table: a PETITION FOR GUARDIANSHIP, a Florida law firm's letterhead, a yellow tab where her signature goes. Beside it, a Maryland family lawyer's business card.
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A stack of bills. A school tuition statement - Barrie School, two boys. She squares the pile.
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On the wall, family photographs: BART, 14, and TIM, 11; a wedding picture with the groom's half folded back behind the frame; her parents, younger, in front of a European embassy.
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She lingers on a snapshot of her father from last week's visit: standing in his own driveway, car door open, keys in hand, looking at the house as if trying to remember why he came out.
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She checks the clock - three hours earlier on the West Coast - picks up the handset and dials.
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Karen speaks to her brother (MOS). We do not hear it. She is steady, decided. She has a plan.
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CUT TO:
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SUPER: "ONE WEEK EARLIER"
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EXT. FBI FIELD OFFICE, MIRAMAR, FLORIDA - DAY
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A beautiful new glass building on Southwest 145th Avenue, hard blue sky in every pane.
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INT. FBI FIELD OFFICE - PRIVATE CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY
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JOHN HALLANGER, 50s, Washington in his suit and his patience, sits across from Special Agent in Charge FULTON McBRIDE, about 50, tall, greying at the temples. Between them: files, lists of resources, a typed OUTLINE.
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INSERT - THE FILES, as McBride lays them out one by one:
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- A surveillance photograph of Karen Kenny leaving her school.
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- A Fairfax County arrest record, late 1990s: her EX-HUSBAND, possession of cocaine with intent, pled to a misdemeanor, six months county.
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- A second sheet: KAREN KENNY, arrested the same night. Stamped: NO CHARGES FILED - PASSENGER.
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- McBride's pen draws a line joining her name to his. Beside it he has written one word, in quotation marks: "evidence".
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- A brochure: TROPIC ISLE SENIOR ASSISTED LIVING, POMPANO BEACH.
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BACK TO SCENE
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Hallanger looks at the outline and nods thoughtfully.
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HALLANGER
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Good plan, Fultie. You have pulled a lot of stuff together on short notice. Let me know what kind of backup you need from my office for any action that needs to be taken in Maryland. Again, great plan.
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McBride does not take the compliment.
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McBRIDE
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Just for the record, Jack, I think this sucks. I've never felt so bad about anything I've ever done since I've been with the Bureau. Having said that, I will see that the plan is implemented as efficiently as possible. I understand the pressure you are under in Washington. The only help I will need is credible people to put in a courtroom in Maryland if that's the direction the daughter goes. You're assuming she will try for a guardianship here in Florida, right?
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HALLANGER
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Yes, that's our assumption. He's a Florida resident now, and moving the jurisdiction will be difficult for his daughter, I suspect. We have learned, however, that she has sought counsel in Maryland, so we need to be prepared for that eventuality.
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Hallanger rises and heads for the door. McBride steps in front of him - lighter now, a host.
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McBRIDE
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I can get us on the Trump course at Doral this afternoon, if you want to get in eighteen.
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Hallanger frowns, not rising to the bait.
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HALLANGER
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Didn't bring my sticks with me, but thanks for asking.
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He goes. McBride is left with the files.
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CUT TO:
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SUPER: "LATER"
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INT. MASTERSON HOUSE - FAMILY ROOM - DAY
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The beige phone rings. This time Masterson answers on the second ring.
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MASTERSON
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Hello.
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INTERCUT WITH:
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INT. KAREN'S CAR, OUTSIDE A COURTHOUSE, MARYLAND - DAY
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Karen behind the wheel, parked, court papers crushed in one hand, phone in the other. At the sound of his voice she bursts into uncontrollable sobs.
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KAREN
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Daddy, I didn't get it.
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MASTERSON
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Didn't get what, dear?
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KAREN
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(voice quivering)
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The guardianship for you, Daddy. It was awful! You're not going to be able to move home, back to Maryland, I mean.
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MASTERSON
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Oh, I forgot. You are going to arrange it so that Mom and I can come back to Silver Spring and live with you and the boys. What do you mean, we can't?
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KAREN
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(barely intelligible through it)
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Daddy, it was terrible. People came from your office where you used to work, well not where you used to work, exactly, but from another government agency.
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Masterson listens intently. The words arrive; the meaning does not.
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FLASH - MASTERSON'S MEMORY: an embassy corridor in Brussels. A door closing. Men who stop talking as he passes. Gone as fast as it came - leaving only unease on his face.
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Karen breathes. Again. Gets hold of herself.
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KAREN (CONT'D)
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They told the judge that I was not fit to be your guardian, that I had a criminal association with known drug dealers. They implied that I just wanted to get your money. They convinced the judge that your care was best left to the government, and that they would arrange for your safekeeping. They were so mean, and they told such lies to the judge. They had all these people to help them convince the judge to allow their representative to put you in an assisted living facility in Florida. They even asked the judge to prohibit me from visiting you without their approval, but my lawyer wouldn't let them get away with that.
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Masterson listens patiently. One thing has landed: he and Helen are not going to Maryland.
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FLASH - HELEN'S FACE, younger, laughing, turning toward him in sunlight.
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It comforts him. He is already looking toward the front door, toward the car keys in the bowl beside it.
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Masterson tells her something (MOS) - gently, as if it settled everything. We do not hear it. We see where his eyes are.
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KAREN
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Dad, please wait. I don't know how much of this you can understand, but I need you to listen to me for a minute. Can you do that?
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MASTERSON
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Sure, kitten, anything you say.
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He keeps the phone to his ear. His free hand has found the car keys.
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KAREN
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They, your old bosses, are going to send someone down to talk to you and make the arrangements. My lawyer got the judge to instruct them that they are not to meet with you until I am there, so we are going to coordinate a meeting the first part of the week, in a few days, to come see you and explain things. Do you understand?
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MASTERSON
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Yes, you're coming to see me on Monday. You be sure to let me know what time, so I can be here to let you in. I don't want to be on one of my visits with your mother.
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KAREN
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You got it, Dad. Good job. That's all you need to know for now. I'll be at the house on Monday in the late morning. Have a good weekend, and say hi to Mom for me, will ya?
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MASTERSON
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Will do.
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END INTERCUT.
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INT. KAREN'S CAR - CONTINUOUS
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She hangs up. Starts crying again.
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When she can, she dials another number.
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Karen asks her LAWYER for something (MOS). Listens. Her shoulders come down an inch: he has said yes.
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SERIES OF SHOTS - MASTERSON'S WEEKEND
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A) INT. MASTERSON HOUSE - DAY. Boxes of memorabilia pulled from closets - a lifetime with Helen. He turns things over in his hands, imagining how he would pack them for Maryland. He has not understood.
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B) EXT. ETERNAL GARDENS MAUSOLEUM, BOCA RATON - DAY. Serene gardens around the columbarium. Masterson stands before HELEN'S NICHE and talks to her. We are too far away to hear.
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C) EXT. COCONUT PALM SUBDIVISION - DAY. He walks the quiet streets east of Federal Highway. Original Bermuda-style cottages, and between them, lot line to lot line, enormous new Mediterranean stucco houses. He stops in front of his own small house as though seeing what it cost them, and what it was worth.
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D) EXT. MAUSOLEUM - DUSK. Again at the niche. His hand flat on the marble.
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EXT. MASTERSON HOUSE - DRIVEWAY - MONDAY, LATE MORNING
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A silver late-model, midsize Mercedes sits in the carport. A rental car pulls in behind it. Karen gets out - and with her a nice YOUNG MAN in a suit and tie, carrying a briefcase: HER ATTORNEY.
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Masterson is at the door before they reach it. He remembered.
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INT. MASTERSON HOUSE - FAMILY ROOM - DAY
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The three of them sit. The attorney speaks quietly and slowly.
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The attorney lays out what is coming (MOS). We watch Masterson not quite follow it - and understand enough: people from the government are going to look after him. He does not like it.
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Masterson gestures toward the kitchen: coffee? The attorney shakes his head. A little later: coffee? Declined again. The young man is kind to Karen. Masterson decides to trust him.
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Through the front window: a BLACK FORD SEDAN turns into the driveway. All three look toward it.
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The DOORBELL.
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INT. MASTERSON HOUSE - FRONT DOOR - CONTINUOUS
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Masterson asserts himself, goes first, opens the door on two well-dressed, clean-cut men. McBRIDE - uncomfortable in an unremarkable charcoal suit, white button-down shirt and a rep tie. And LYLE ORNSTEIN, young, short, very fit, relaxed, studious in tortoiseshell horn-rimmed glasses.
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Karen, standing behind her father, sizes them up.
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McBRIDE
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Mr. Masterson, I am Fulton McBride, Special Agent in Charge of the Miami office of the Federal Bureau, and with me this morning is Agent Lyle Ornstein, also of the Miami office.
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Hands extended. They shake all around.
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McBRIDE (CONT'D)
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Ms. Kenny, is there someplace comfortable where we can sit and discuss our plans. I can appreciate how difficult this situation is for you and your family, and I want you to know that I and the Bureau will do everything in our power to make this a positive experience.
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Karen cannot resist the opening.
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KAREN
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You mean, you're from the government, and you're here to help us?
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It hangs in the air. McBride and Ornstein look at each other nervously.
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INT. MASTERSON HOUSE - FAMILY ROOM - CONTINUOUS
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Masterson directs them in. The two agents take the sofa - FACING the sliding-glass patio doors. Across the coffee table, in comfortable armchairs with the glass behind them: Masterson, Karen, her attorney.
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McBRIDE'S POV: three silhouettes against white Florida glare. He cannot read a single face. He knows at once that it is not an accident.
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Masterson has been a person in charge his whole life. It is his house. He takes the lead.
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MASTERSON
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Mr. McBride, you may be aware that I have been in government service my adult life. I find it curious to receive members of the FBI in my home. Perhaps you can shed some light on why you are here, so that my daughter and her friend can be helpful to me.
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McBride is a fast study. He sees exactly whom he has to speak to, and how.
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McBRIDE
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Ms. Kenny,
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(a breath)
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I can only imagine how betrayed you feel after the judge's ruling last week in West Palm Beach. The methods notwithstanding, we are where we are, and I would like to put the best face on this we can, for the benefit of all concerned.
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McBride reviews the circumstances (MOS) - to all of them, careful to include Masterson. We stay on MASTERSON: nodding at the right moments, playing his part well, following almost none of it. McBride sees it too, and becomes more direct.
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On the coffee table he sets down, one after another: a medical summary - ALZHEIMER'S DISEASE, PROGRESSIVE; a cost sheet stamped BORNE BY THE GOVERNMENT; the court order, a paragraph on visitation struck through in his own pen.
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Karen fumes.
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KAREN
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No matter how you try to spin this, I will never forgive you for what you did to me in public last week. I am a grammar school teacher. I don't have the resources to bring my family to Florida so that we can enjoy what time we have with my dad. What you did is unforgivable, and there is no way you can convince me that he will be better off here than with his loving family in the years ahead.
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McBRIDE
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Notwithstanding your feelings, Karen, may I call you Karen?
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KAREN
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No you may not! We are not friends, Mr. McBride; don't bother trying to treat me as one.
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McBride blanches. Continues.
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McBRIDE
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Ultimately, it is no longer your call.
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He slides the TROPIC ISLE brochure across the table and opens it.
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McBride walks them through it (MOS), page by page: the building just south of Boca Raton in Pompano Beach; a private apartment; the wing a resident is moved to later; a calendar of supervised activities. His finger stops on a line of small print. He looks up.
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McBRIDE
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It's my understanding he will not have the use of his car much longer, anyway.
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That, Masterson hears.
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MASTERSON
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What do you mean, not use my car? How will I get to the mausoleum to see Helen?
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McBRIDE
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The home has transportation available on demand for reasonable supervised visits off the premises. They have to be supervised because Tropic Isle is responsible for your safety, Mr. Masterson.
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Masterson is not sure about any of this. He looks at Karen: she will explain it later. Through the window behind the agents, the silver Mercedes sits in the carport.
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INT. MASTERSON HOUSE - FAMILY ROOM - LATER (AFTERNOON)
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The light has moved across the room. Papers everywhere. The attorney reads McBride's documents and court orders one by one, and gives Karen a small, unhappy nod: they are in order.
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Karen on her phone in the doorway - arranging a substitute for her classes.
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McBride indicates Ornstein. Ornstein opens a slim file of his own: the JUDGE'S ORDER naming him legal guardian; a CPA certificate; a checklist - weekly visit; final accounting; SALE OF VEHICLE: MERCEDES; storage payments. He is quiet, exact, not unkind.
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EXT. MASTERSON HOUSE - DRIVEWAY - EARLY EVENING
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The agents hold the door of the black Ford for Karen's attorney - they will drop him at Fort Lauderdale for his flight to Baltimore. He and Karen shake hands, a beat longer than business requires. The Ford backs out.
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INT. MASTERSON HOUSE - NIGHT
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SERIES OF SHOTS - PACKING A LIFE
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A) Father and daughter on the floor among open boxes, photo albums across their knees. Tears in their eyes, and laughing.
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B) A photograph: Brussels. Another: a desert capital. A younger Masterson beside men whose faces the camera was not meant to keep. He remembers THESE perfectly. He talks; she listens. Hours of it.
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C) A Domino's box, empty, on a packed carton. The clock past midnight.
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EXT. ETERNAL GARDENS MAUSOLEUM - TUESDAY MORNING
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Karen and her father before Helen's niche, the gardens beautiful around them. It was Karen's idea to come; he had not brought it up once. She watches what the place does to him - the peace that comes over his face - and understands something she had been arguing with.
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INT. MASTERSON HOUSE - DAY
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SERIES OF SHOTS
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A) Karen sorts photographs into two piles - hers, her brother's. A special few of her mother go into a single small album: for her dad to take with him.
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B) Clothes in three stacks: charity, Goodwill, and the newer things to go with him.
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C) Movers carry furniture to a truck marked for the assisted living facility.
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D) EXT. STORAGE FACILITY, DEERFIELD BEACH - DAY. A roll-up door comes down on what could not be decided.
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E) INT. MASTERSON HOUSE - EVENING. Karen on the phone with her boys (MOS). In Silver Spring, LAUREN, her friend and fellow teacher, waves two boys toward their homework.
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F) Masterson alone in a room of boxes, in the one chair left, looking for where things used to be.
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EXT. MASTERSON HOUSE - FRIDAY EVENING
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A taxi. BART, 14, and TIM, 11, spill out with backpacks. Great hugs at the door.
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INT. MASTERSON HOUSE - CONTINUOUS
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The boys take in the bare walls, the cartons stacked by the front door. Masterson sees them see it, and is embarrassed by how sparse his home looks.
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INT. PIZZA RESTAURANT / MOVIE THEATER - NIGHT
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Pizza. Then the dark of a cinema: the boys lit by the screen, rapt. Masterson is not following the film at all. He is watching his family. He is in a comfortable place again.
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EXT. TROPIC ISLE SENIOR ASSISTED LIVING, POMPANO BEACH - SATURDAY - DAY
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A portico, palms, glass doors. It looks like a luxury hotel.
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INT. TROPIC ISLE - LOBBY AND RECEPTION - DAY
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Karen and Masterson stop just inside and marvel. Marble, richly stained wood, heavy fabrics that swallow sound. A very cordial reception STAFF. Here and there an ORDERLY in a fresh white uniform - the only sign of what the place is.
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Behind reception: living-room groupings of sofas and armchairs. Beyond them, dining rooms, each with a different feel, casual to formal. Small shops tucked between. To the south, administrative offices like a class-A commercial building. Residential wings run off diagonally left and right.
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The boys peel away to explore. Karen lets them.
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MR. REINHARDT, the director - balding, nervous-looking - introduces himself (MOS) and leads them to the elevators.
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INT. TROPIC ISLE - THIRD FLOOR HALLWAY - DAY
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Wide hallways. Apartment doors spaced irregularly, very wide and substantial, each entrance a little different from the next - more like a street of townhomes than a corridor. Wide enough, Karen notices, for a wheelchair.
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INT. TROPIC ISLE - MASTERSON'S APARTMENT - DAY
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A spacious one-bedroom, sparsely furnished; his own furniture has not yet arrived. Karen looks into the bedroom - large, a modern bath and shower off to the side with grab bars and an EMERGENCY CALL CORD. Her eyes rest on the cord.
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The kitchen is small but complete. Reinhardt demonstrates the stove: it shuts itself off.
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REINHARDT
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We encourage our guests to use the rather extensive public dining options downstairs, but the small kitchens are suitable for a quick snack or breakfast, so people don't have to get dressed to find a bite to eat, any time of day or night.
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Karen goes to the window. From the third floor the neighborhood to the east is mostly residential - and green, far greener than it looked from the street. High enough to see it; not so high as to be cut off from it.
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She sets a framed photograph of Helen on the bare windowsill. Then the small album.
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INT. TROPIC ISLE - LOBBY - DAY
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The boys come running back, lit up.
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BART
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They even have video games played on seventy-inch televisions!
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TIM
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Can we visit Grandpa when he moves here, Mom?
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Masterson smiles.
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MASTERSON
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Sure you can.
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He tousles Tim's mop of unruly hair. Karen smiles too - knowing exactly how much of those visits their grandfather will get.
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EXT. TROPIC ISLE - POOL DECK AND GARDENS - DAY
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Reinhardt shows them out through an expansive pool deck. Gardens deep enough to have paths through the foliage. Patio furniture in clusters; under the building's shade, wicker chairs with comfortable cushions for the heat of the day and the balmy evenings.
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Karen walks a little easier than she came in.
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EXT. MASTERSON HOUSE - SUNDAY, LATE AFTERNOON
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Goodbyes in the driveway. The boys hug their grandfather. Karen holds on longest. A taxi takes the three of them away toward an evening flight to Baltimore.
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Masterson stands in the driveway beside the silver Mercedes until the street is empty.
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INT. MASTERSON HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT
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A bare room. A packed suitcase by the door. Masterson lies awake a while, then turns out the lamp - prepared, as far as he is able to be, to meet Lyle Ornstein in the morning.
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CUT TO BLACK.
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END OF CHAPTER ONE
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