Beloved Page #4

This is Denver's private place. She bends low and crawls

through the leaves into the center. Once there, this lonely

child wipes away her tears and tries to pull herself

together. She lays her face against the cool earth.

INT. 124 BLUESTONE RD. - NIGHT.

Denver walks to her room in her night dress. She passes the

opened door of her mother's bedroom and peeks in:

INT. SETHE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT.

Sethe kneeling by her bed, as if praying...

Beside Sethe, A WHITE DRESS KNEELS as well, with it's sleeve

around Sethe's waist. Like two friendly grown-up women,

comforting each other in prayer.

Denver tip toes away.

INT. DENVER'S ROOM - NIGHT.

Sethe enters to check on Denver, whom she thinks is asleep.

She leans over and kisses her forehead, only to discover she

is awake;

DENVER:

Mama?

SETHE:

What is it baby?

DENVER:

You think maybe when daddy comes, he

could talk to the baby ghost. Maybe make

her behave and then people won't be

scared of here no more.

SETHE:

I don't know.

DENVER:

Why won't she ever settle?

SETHE:

She's mad like a baby gets mad. You

forgetting how little it is. She wasn't

even two years old when she died. Too

little to understand.

DENVER:

For a baby she throws a powerful spell.

SETHE:

No more powerful than the way I loved her.

Hearing her mother say this, moves Denver.

DENVER:

What do you pray for Mama?

SETHE:

Oh, I don't really pray anymore. I just

talk.

DENVER:

About what?

SETHE:

Oh, about time. How some things go. Pass

on. Some things just stay.

DENVER:

What things?

SETHE:

Like, the place I was at before here -

Sweet Home. Even if that whole farm and

every tree and blade of grass on it died -

it'll still be there. Waiting. And if you

go and stand in the place where it was,

what happened there once, will happen

again.

DENVER:

If it's still there, waiting, that mean

nothing ever dies?

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