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A CROWDED ROOM byJames Cameron FADE IN:We dont know what were looking at. Its an abstractmass -- swirling lines in constant motion -- but were tooclose to see any form.As WE PULL BACK, we can now make out that they are whatseem like animated streaks of charcoal -- forming andreforming
was holding earlier -- only now it sticks up six inches
from the ground. As CHALMER rides out of frame we hear
the amplified sound of shallow breathing.
INT. BARN
We see BILLY only from the naked torso up. Through a
window, we can see CHALMER outside, drinking under a tree.
His pants are undone. BILLY'S back is to us. He's tied
to the rototiller -- straddling it. His eyes are wet
from crying. He struggles against the rope, but it's no
use. Then, his eyes fix into the middle distance. He
stares so hard, it hurts.
A BRIGHT, WHITE LIGHT
shining straight into our eyes. At first it has no form,
no perimeters.
BILLY
staring.
THE LIGHT
feels like a birth as we PULL BACK from its center,
gathering velocity. It rumbles, then roars, until we
finally get to it's outer edge. Now it has a shape. It's
a spotlight -- sharp, defined. Surrounded by darkness.
Like the spot that shone on Johnny Morrison at the Eden
Roc.
BILLY
staring even harder.
THE SPOT
as a form emerges from it's deepest recesses. It's human.
A teenage boy. The figure stretches out it's hand.
BILLY
Suddenly, he blinks -- like we've seen the adult BILLY
do. His entire face seems to change. He's not terrified
anymore, merely confused. He reaches his face over to his
constrained hand and touches his cheek with his fingers.
He has no idea why he's been crying. He looks around the
barn -- then out at CHALMER, who is oblivious. BILLY
looks at the rope around his wrists. They are tied to
each other, close together, but there's still some slack.
He takes a beat, then uses one hand to push the thumb of
his other hand far across it palm. His eyes are clenched
in concentration. His hand turns beet red. Suddenly,
there's a snap and his thumb is successfully dislocated.
With his thumb pulled out of its socket and draped across
his palm, the thickest part of his hand is now thinner
than his wrist, enabling him to slide it out from the
rope. He snaps it back in place and undoes his other
wrist. Outside the window, CHALMER is now passed out
drunk.
INT. BARN
THE CARDINAL painted on the piece of slate. It's been
signed: BILLY. BILLY is fully dressed now, rubbing his
still red thumb, when he stumbles upon it. He picks up
the paintbrush next to it and adds some touches.
Satisfied, he signs a second name beneath the one that's
already there: TOMMY.
EXT. STREET
It's a brilliant Fall day. BILLY, age nine, is walking to
school past an apple orchard. He carries a big, shiny red
apple -- polishing it as he goes. He never sees the car
that suddenly rounds the bend and heads straight for him.
We hear a MAN and a WOMAN giggling drunkenly from inside
-- completely oblivious. It is virtually upon him, when,
as if shoved from behind by an invisible force, BILLY is
thrown clear of the automobile. It crushes the apple into
sauce and disappears around the next bend, but BILLY lands
safely. He starts to cry. Then we hear a voice. It has
a thick East European accent.
RAGEN'S VOICE
Christene...
BILLY looks up.
RAGEN'S VOICE
Please... don't cry... I get you
another apple.
TIGHT
on a adult pair of hands as they shimmy up a tree trunk
and grab an apple.
EXT. STREET
BILLY, holding this new apple, walking happily to school
once more.
RAGEN'S FACE
against a dark and indistinct background. He's inspired
by the Eden Roc busboy -- intense, olive-skinned, with a
full black moustache.
RAGEN
I will always be here to protect
you.
INT. BILLY'S APARTMENT
BILLY, age twenty one, is working out with a set of
nunchuks. He handles them like an expert, like a killer.
Sweat covers his bare chest. His hands are a blur. He
punctuates each move with a throaty war cry, still in the
thick Yugoslavian accent, as he uses a mannequin's face
and torso to simulate the disarming and vicious pummeling
of an attacker
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