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EXT. JACKSON - MISSISSIPPI - RURAL FIELDS - DAY
 
The sun is bright and the colors vivid. A vast field of
cotton borders a green and hilly landscape. It's quiet; just
birds and the breeze rustling leaves.
 
Then there is a heavier movement nearby in the field. The
cotton parts and a young man emerges.
 
It is an older Richard, in his teens. He is still lean,
sharp-featured with a hungry look, but he is putting on
muscle. He carries a notebook. Purposely, he walks on into
the green, lush hills.
 
 
 
EXT. PASTURE LAND - LATER
 
Richard is in a hollow, a cradle at the base of a hill. He
sits with his back to a tree, writing in his notebook. He
continues to write a moment, then pauses. He is reading what
he wrote, mouthing the words silently. He stops, looks up to
the sky, thinks, closes his eyes, opens them, looks back to
the notebook.
 
RICHARD
And at last the darkness of the
night descended and softly kissed
the surface of the watery grave
and the only sound was the lonely
rustle of the ancient trees.
 
He smiles.
 
A strange sound comes to him over the green hills. Richard
slams the book closed and listens. It is a rhythmic
pounding, sequential, like fifty horses at a canter, coming
at him over the hill... tha-thoomp-tha-thoomp-tha-thomp...
 
The sound grows louder and Richard jumps to his feet. His
face goes from puzzlement to concern. What is this sound,
growing more powerful?
 
Then, the resonant pounding just over the hill, he hears a
voice, the words indistinguishable, but a man, calling out.
Then a chorus answers...
 
Richard looks to the crest of the hill. In formation, a
hundred uniformed soldiers with rifles at port arms file over
the hill. They are at double-time, wearing sharp, World War-
1 era uniforms. They are black, every one of them. And they
are fit; like an armed football team in battle fatigues.
 
They spill down upon and around Richard. Their faces are
chiseled, determined.
 
In a distinctly non-Southern accent, A sergeant running to
the side of the company calls out the cadence in the familiar
rhythm.
 
SERGEANT
I don't know but I heard it saaaid!
 
A hundred men answer the cadence with perfect enunciation, a
deep, singular, black baritone.
 
TROOPS
I don't know but I heard it
saaaid!!
 
SERGEANT
White folks dressed in clothes so
fiiiine!
 
TROOPS
White folks dressed in clothes so
fiiiine!!
 
SERGEANT
Their ass-holes smell just like
miiiine!
 
TROOPS
Their ass-holes smell just like
miiiine!!
 
SERGEANT/TROOPS
OOOOH-RAAAAH!!
 
Richard, his jaw gaping, his eyes wide with shock and
astonishment, stands in the middle of this thriving,
coordinated mass. Soldiers are passing within inches.
 
As the last few go by, they give Richard a pleasant grin.
 
The company disappears over a hill. Richards continues to
look, not moving an inch.
 
 
 
EXT. GRANNY'S HOUSE - LATER
 
Walking down a dirt road, still with his notebook, Richard is
approaching this ramshackle, two-story wood frame home. On
the porch a young black woman sits reading a bible.
 
Aunt ADDIE, about nine years older than Richard, looks up at
the approaching young man and scowls. Their dislike for each
other is palpable.
 
ADDIE
Richard, where have you been?!
 
Richard is in no hurry to answer.
 
RICHARD
Why?
 
ADDIE
Cause Granny has been looking for
you.
 
RICHARD
For what?
 
ADDIE
Boy, you ain't to ask 'for what'!
You just supposed to be here when
Saturday chores need doin'.
 
RICHARD
I did my chores this morning.
 
ADDIE
Well I guess you must not have
done them very well, cause Granny
was askin' about you.
 
RICHARD
Where is she?
 
ADDIE
She done gone to church, now. I
wanted to go but I couldn't, cause
of you.
 
RICHARD
What do a I have to do with you
goin' to church?
 
ADDIE
She says cause I'm older I was
supposed to watch you.
 
RICHARD
That's stupid.
 
ADDIE
You shut up, you disrespectin'
trash mouth!
(pause)
My brother Roy is to be movin' in
today, too. Someone has to wait
up.
 
Richard pauses, this is news to him.
 
RICHARD
Nobody told me Uncle Roy was
comin'.
 
Addie forces a derisive laugh.
 
ADDIE
What do you think, you the head of
the house? No one has to tell you
nothin'.
(pause)
My brother goin' to be head from
here on, you best watch yourself.
 
RICHARD
I thought Roy was in Buluxi?
 
ADDIE
He ain't Roy to you! And you
never mind where he is or ain't!
 
Richard pauses. A roll of his eyes suggests that what Addie
didn't say told him everything about Roy's return. He
continues up the steps past his young aunt.
 
 
 
EXT. SCHOOL GROUNDS - MORNING
 
A shabby hand-lettered banner hangs between two oak trees.
It reads:
 
"WELCOME TO THE JIM HILL SCHOOL FOR YOUNG NEGROES AND THE
FIRST DAY OF A BRIGHT FUTURE!"
 
The children are young to mid-teens, all black. The girls
are in groups separate from the boys. Among the boys there
is a good deal of pushing and shoving.
 
Richard enters the school grounds. Almost dapper, he looks
as if he is making the most of his shabby attire.
 
His clothes, though worn and too-small, appear stone-washed
clean. His shirt is tucked into his knee-length shorts and
his belt is pulled tight.
 
And he wears a brand new straw hat.
 
He walks between the groups of children, clearly an outsider.
From the boys, he attracts a few suspicious stares. A pretty
black girl and her friends look at Richard, turn and giggle.
 
He's on edge.
 
Suddenly a body dashes up to Richard, bumps him and knocks
the hat from his head. A BOY, larger, older by about a year,
jumps back to his group.
 
BOY
Straw katy! Straw katy!
 
The crowd hears the cry and Richard is at ounce surrounded by
about twenty boys, strangers, taunting, crying out in unison.
 
CROWD
Straw katy!! Straw katy!! Straw
katy!!
 
Richard calmly picks up his hat and replaces it to his head.
He stares back at the boys. He doesn't seem afraid. He
remains cool -- or at least looks it.
 
The Boy who thumped his hat to the ground separates from the
crowd and moves closer to Richard and taunts.
 
BOY
(sneering)
Mama bought me a straw hat!
 
Richard stares back, as if calculating.
 
RICHARD
Watch what you're saying.
 
BOY
Oh, look! He talks!
 
The crowd of boys whoops and laughs. They are waiting for
the clash.
 
BOY
(continuing)
Where you from?
 
RICHARD
None of your business.
 
BOY
Now, look, don't you get sassy, or
I'll cut you down.
 
RICHARD
I'll say what I please.
 
The Boy gives Richard a look of appraisal. The crowd behind
is quiet, a few giggle.
 
The Boy picks up a small rock and walks closer to Richard.
The Boy places the stone on his shoulder.
 
BOY
Knock it off.
 
A LARGE BOY calls out from the sidelines.
 
LARGE BOY
You get him, Avey!
 
Richard hesitates only a moment. He slams AVEY hard on the
shoulder sending him spinning with the blow. Before Avey can
regain his footing, Richard hammers his fist into his face
and tackles him. The hat disappears. The crowd howls.
 
Richard is on top of the boy pounding away when the Larger
Boy, Avey's BROTHER, pulls him off.
 
BROTHER
Don't you hit my brother!
 
Richard quickly squares-off the Brother who is rearing back
to swing. But Richard, smaller and agile, gets in close and
jabs right-left combinations into the Brother's face. It
takes about ten fast strikes, but the Brother goes down hard.
 
The crowd is stunned.
 
Richard moves in on the Brother before he can fully rise and
kicks him hard in the gut.
 
Richard is grabbed from behind by Avey. They tussle,
spinning about. Avey bites into Richards ear.
 
Richard screams, contorts lower, shifts the center of gravity
and suddenly he has Avey off the ground, over his shoulder.
The boy goes head-over-heals slams hard into the ground.
 
Richard's hand goes to his ear and comes away bloody. He
advances on the fallen boy.
 
Behind him, the Brother's hand is closing over a broken, red
brick.
 
Richard is almost on Avey ... Thump! The brick slams into
the back of his head. Richard stumbles to one knee, his hand
goes to his head. He's bleeding. The jagged brick is at his
feet. He picks it up and turns.
 
The two boys are warily circling him.
 
Richard brings back his arm and jumps forward as if to throw
at the Brother. The Brother turns and runs. Richard lets fly
and catches the boy in the back with the stone. The Brother
stumbles forward, drops, gets to his feet and keeps running.
 
Richard turns and advances on Avey. The boy turns and runs.
 
The crowd of boys whoop their delight, move in and those
closest begin to slap Richard on the back. Richard looks
confused as this continues on a moment.
 
Then the crowd goes quiet and begins to part. A large female
TEACHER is bearing down.
 
Richard is dabbing at the blood on his neck.
 
TEACHER
Was it you who threw that brick?
 
RICHARD
Two boys were fighting me.
 
The Teacher gives Richard a stern look.
 
TEACHER
Come.
 
Richard follows her through the crowd. A boy runs up to hand
Richard his now trashed hat.
 
 
 
INT. CLASSROOM - LATER
 
Avey and his Brother are standing in the otherwise empty and
worn room.
 
The door opens and the Teacher walks in with Richard behind.
She is now between the brothers and Richard.
 
TEACHER
Are these the boys, Mr. Wright?
 
RICHARD
Both of them fought me. I had to
fight back.
 
AVEY
He started it!
 
BROTHER
Yeah!
 
RICHARD
You're lying!
 
TEACHER
Don't you use that language.
 
RICHARD
But they're not telling the truth.
They tore up my hat.
 
AVEY
He started it! He's lyin'!
 
Richard bobs, weaves around the teacher and pops Avey in the
mouth.
 
AVEY
(continuing)
Ahhhh!
 
Avey's hand snaps to his face, the Teacher grabs Richard and
pulls him back.
 
TEACHER
The very idea! What's wrong with
you?!
 
RICHARD
He's not telling the truth.
 
TEACHER
You sit in that chair over there!
 
Richard keeps his eyes on the brothers and slowly complies.
The Teacher turns to the two boys.
 
TEACHER
(continuing)
Avey and Luther Jones, you have
been told about startin' trouble.
 
LUTHER
But...
 
The Teacher slaps Luther a good one. He holds his face.
 
TEACHER
I'm going to be talking to your
mother!
 
AVEY
I...
 
TEACHER
Shut your mouth! Only the first
day of the year and you're already
startin' trouble.
 
She grabs them both by the ear and throws them into the hall.
 
TEACHER
(continuing)
Get your no-good selves to class!
 
The Teacher closes the door and returns to Richard. She gives
him a long look. Only now does he look sheepish.
 
TEACHER
(continuing)
I'm in a good mind not to let you
off.
 
RICHARD
It wasn't my fault.
 
TEACHER
I know. But you hit one of those
boys right in here.
 
RICHARD
I'm sorry.
 
He looks as if he means it.
 
TEACHER
What grade are you to go in?
 
RICHARD
Seventh.
 
TEACHER
You look a little old to be in the
seventh grade.
 
RICHARD
I'm behind because my mama and me
had to keep moving.
 
The Teacher gives Richard a long look.
 
TEACHER
How well do you read?
 
RICHARD
I read well, ma'am.
 
TEACHER
You wouldn't exaggerate, would
you, young man?
 
RICHARD
No, ma'am.
 
She walks to her desk, picks up a hardbound book, returns and
hands it to Richard. Richard carefully looks it over.
 
TEACHER
Read something.
 
Richard opens the book to a random page. He reads aloud,
beautifully.
 
RICHARD
My first glimpse of the flat black
stretches of Chicago depressed and
dismayed me, mocked all my
fantasies. Chicago seemed an
unreal city whose mythical houses
were built of slabs of black coal
wreathed in palls of gray smoke,
houses whose foundations were
sinking slowly into the dank
prairie. Flashes of steam showed
intermittently on the wide
horizon, gleaming translucently in
the winter sun. The din of the
city entered my consciousness,
entered to remain for years to
come. The year was...
 
TEACHER
That's enough.
 
The Teacher looks at Richard.
 
 
 
MONTAGE - TIME PASSING
 
A) Outside the windows of a classroom, it snows lightly.
One of about twenty children, Richard is writing, perhaps
taking a test, concentrating hard.
 
NARRATOR
Until I entered Jim Hill public
school, I had had but one year of
unbroken schooling. Starved for
learning, I studied night and day
and was soon promoted.
 
B) On a snowy ground, Avey and Luther wrestle around, while
a crowd, including a grinning Richard -- now very much a
part of the group -- watch and cheer them on.
 
NARRATOR
(continuing)
For the first time, I was with
boys and girls my own age who were
studying, fighting, talking; it
revitalized my being.
 
C) It is a warm, spring day. Richard leans against the
tree, an open text book on the ground beside him. He
looks to the book then writes in a tablet.
 
NARRATOR
(continuing)
And though I was not then aware of
it, these short years would give
me the only formal study I was to
have in my life.
 
D) Brown leaves blow across the ground. Richard, seeming
older, is among about fifty young people leaving school
for the day. He is with a group of five boys and one
girl. He talks and laughs, gives a friend a light push.
 
NARRATOR
(continuing)
I began to realize that my life
was revolving about a world that
I had to encounter and fight when
I grew up.
 
E) It is cold; frost covers the ground and trees. Richard,
heavily clothed, banging his hands for warmth, a huge
canvas bag slung over his shoulder, is delivering papers.
 
NARRATOR
(continuing)
Then, suddenly, the future loomed
tangibly for me, as tangible as a
future can loom for a black boy in
Mississippi.
 
F) The sun is a descending fire ball. Richard is shirtless,
now with more muscle. He leans against the same tree and
writes.
 
The sun meets the earth and slips away.
 
 
 
EXT. BRIDGE - DAY
 
Richard, in his school clothes and carrying books, is walking
over a narrow wooden bridge. He stops to look down at the
moving waters of a good-sized river, then walks on.
 
Ahead, among the thick forest alongside the river, there
emerges a foreign land.
 
 
 
EXT. WHITE SIDE OF TOWN - LATER
 
Richard is carefully walking down the sidewalk of an upper-
middle class neighborhood. It is of paved streets, manicured
lawns, trimmed hedges and white picket fences.
 
Avoiding the eyes of the white people he passes, he stops to
read the names on a street sign and moves on.
 
A police patrol car eases to the curb and paces Richard for
a moment. Richard sees it, but keeps his eyes ahead. He
walks on. The car pulls to the curb and stops. The cop
leans across the seat.
 
COP
Boy! Hey, boy!
 
Richard stops, hesitantly looks to the car.
 
COP
(continuing)
Come over here! I ain't gonna
call out to ya!
 
Richard moves to the car. He speaks with good diction and a
deeper voice.
 
RICHARD
Yes, sir?
 
COP
Where you goin'?
 
RICHARD
I was going to look for work.
 
COP
Boy, you can't jes walk into a
white neighborhood looking for a
job!
 
RICHARD
But I was...
 
COP
Now, what're you really doin', you
lookin' for something to steal?
 
RICHARD
No, sir. I was goin' to the
Whitmans'.
 
The Cop pauses a moment.
 
COP
You mean Reggie and Delphi Whitman?
 
RICHARD
Yes, sir. Some boys at school
told me Miss Delphi is lookin' for
a boy to do chores.
 
The Cop seems to think about this.
 
COP
What's your name?
 
RICHARD
Richard.
 
COP
Your last name, boy! What's your
last name?!
 
RICHARD
Wright. I'm Richard Wright.
 
COP
All right. Go ahead. But if I
hear about anything gettin' stolen
round here, I'm comin' lookin' for
you.
 
RICHARD
Yes, sir.
 
The cop begins to ease the car from the curb.
 
COP
When Mrs. Whitman is done with
you, get out of this side of town.
You got it?
 
RICHARD
Yes, sir.
 
The car pulls away.
 
 
 
EXT. THE WHITMANS' - LATER
 
"THE WHITMANS" is displayed in gold letters on a white plaque
hanging from the outstretched arm of a cement lawn jockey.
Richard is somewhat awed by the place. The house is a large
two-story, well-built, clean and white-washed.
 
Richard walks up to the front door. He knocks lightly. Then,
surprised by the solidness of the door, he knocks harder.
 
The door opens to reveal a scowling, middle-aged white woman.
She looks at Richard as if he were a mangy stray dog.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
What are you doin' at my front
door, boy?
 
Richard is taken aback, but forges on.
 
RICHARD
Ma'am, my name is Richard. Some
boys at school said you were
looking for a chore boy.
 
Mrs. Whitman examines Richard for a long pause.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
You go to school?
 
RICHARD
Yes, Ma'am. But I'll be out for
summer soon
 
MRS. WHITMAN
Can you sign your name?
 
RICHARD
Yes, Ma'am.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
Then why would you need to learn
more than that?
 
Richard pauses.
 
RICHARD
Well, I want to be able to read
and write well.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
What kind of reading?
 
RICHARD
(pause)
Well, stories, books, that sort.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
For what?
 
RICHARD
To learn things.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
(pause)
Well, don't let that reading put
silly ideas into your niggra' head.
 
RICHARD
(pause)
No ma'am.
 
Mrs. Whitman studies Richard.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
It is a known fact that the
niggra' is not meant to get too
much learning; they become unhappy.
 
Richard swallows hard. Mrs. Whitman gives Richard a long
hard look.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
(continuing)
Well, go 'round back. We'll see
if you know how to work.
 
The door closes in Richard's face. He stands a moment. It's
clear he would rather just leave.
 
He turns and heads to the side of the house.
 
 
 
EXT. WHITMANS' BACK YARD - LATER
 
Beyond the back yard is a lush forest, dense with tall trees
and wild foliage.
 
Richard is shirtless, bent over in a garden pulling weeds.
Judging by the sweat which runs down his torso, he has been
working for a while. His books and shirt sit on the ground.
 
Mrs. Whitman marches from the house to the yard. She stands
and observes Richard's progress.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
My last boy worked much faster.
 
Richard stops for a moment to answer.
 
RICHARD
The thorns are slowing me down,
ma'am.
 
Mrs. Whitman stares blankly back for a moment.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
Well, you better stop. We
wouldn't want you to hurt your
delicate hands.
 
Richard throws a handful of weeds to the pile.
 
RICHARD
Yes, ma'am.
 
Mrs. Whitman turns and heads for the house. She calls out
over her shoulder.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
You put those weeds in the burn
pile and come into the house.
(pause)
And put your shirt back on.
 
Richard watches the woman walk away.
 
 
 
INT. WHITMANS' HOUSE - DEN
 
On the wall, inside a glass case, is a beautiful collection
of firearms. There are about 30 pieces ranging from dueling
pistols to civil war revolvers and Winchesters.
 
Richard stands somewhat in awe of the expensive display.
Mrs. Whitman stands behind him about two feet.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
Those guns were Reggie's pride and
joy.
 
Just before he died he made me
promise to take care of the damn
things.
(pause)
That's to be one of your chores,
if I hire you.
 
RICHARD
(pause)
What's to be, ma'am?
 
MRS. WHITMAN
To polish them each month. Can
you do that?
 
RICHARD
Yes, ma'am.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
You best be able to do a good and
careful job.
 
RICHARD
Yes, ma'am.
 
Mrs. Whitman turns and starts from the room and Richard
follows. She talks as they walk past a stairway adjacent the
den and down the hall towards the kitchen.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
Besides the lawn work and the
guns, inside the house you'll be
scrubbin' floors and washin'
windows. You don't think that's
woman's work, do you boy?
 
RICHARD
No, ma'am.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
Good. You'll work mornings,
evenings and Saturdays and the pay
is two dollars a week.
 
RICHARD
Yes, ma'am.
 
Mrs. Whitman pauses as they reach the kitchen exit. She
opens the door and Richard steps outside, turns and waits.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
Now, boy, I want to ask you one
question and I want you to tell
the truth.
 
RICHARD
Yes, ma'am.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
Do you steal?
 
Richard is shocked, a blank. Then he laughs, incredulous.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
(continuing)
What's so damn funny about that?!
 
RICHARD
Lady, if I was a thief, do you
think I would tell you?!
 
Mrs. Whitman looks like she might explode.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
What do you mean?!
 
Richard catches himself, returns to the game.
 
RICHARD
No, ma'am. I don't steal.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
Now, look, I don't need a sassy
boy around here.
 
RICHARD
No, ma'am. I'm not sassy.
 
Mrs. Whitman gives Richard a long angry look.
 
MRS. WHITMAN
I suppose you're just too uppity
to answer my questions, bein' a
educated nigger. You should find
work that's good enough for you.
 
She shuts the door in his face. Richard, dumfounded and
humiliated, stares at the closed door.
 

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