The Green Mile Page #2

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Paul approaches the back door, returning from his walk. He

reaches for the knob...and a figure in white lunges from

behind the dumpster to grab his wrist. He whirls, gasping in

fright--it's Brad Dolan, wearing his orderly's uniform.

BRAD:

Out for a little stroll, Paulie?

PAUL:

Let go...

Paul tries to pull away, but Dolan's got him tight.

BRAD:

What's with this poncho you got

on, huh? This isn't yours.

PAUL:

I got it off the wall there.

There's a whole row of them.

BRAD:

But not for you, Paulie, that's

the thing. Those are for the staff.

PAUL:

I just borrowed it. Don't see what

harm it does.

BRAD:

It's not about harm, it's about

rules. You probably don't think an

old fart like you has to mind

rules anymore, but that's just not

true.

Brad's eyes keep shifting--he obviously doesn't mind abusing

the elderly as long as he doesn't get caught doing it.

PAUL:

I'm sorry if I broke the rules.

BRAD:

You got no business up in those

woods anyway, especially in the

rain. What if you fall and bust a

hip, huh? Who you think's gonna

have to hoss your sorry old bacon

back down here? Me, that's who.

PAUL:

You're hurting me!

BRAD:

What do you do up there, anyway?

You're too old to go jerk off, so

what do you do?

PAUL:

Nothing. I just walk, that's all,

I like to walk!

Brad lashes out and grabs Paul's other hand, which he's been

holding tightly clenched shut.

BRAD:

Come on. Open up. Let Poppa see.

Paul uncurls his fingers, revealing the crushed remnants of

a bit of toast, his palm slick with a greasy oleo smear.

ELAINE (O.S.)

Paul?

They turn. Elaine stands just inside the screen door with a

cup of tea. Brad's eyes become calculated, wondering how much

she's seen. Elaine keeps her tone level, betraying nothing:

ELAINE:

I saw you coming back, thought

you'd like some tea.

(beat)

Are you coming in?

PAUL:

Mr. Dolan and I were...chatting.

About the weather. I think we're

through now.

Brad lets Paul loose, leans close:

BRAD:

Paulie? You tell anyone I squeezed

your po' ol' hand, I'll tell 'em

you're having senile delusions.

Who you think they'll believe?

Brad walks off. Paul turns, watches him go. The screen door

opens and Elaine steps out, her face pale. Paul gives her a

strained, though grateful, smile as we

CUT TO:

INT. TV ROOM - DAY

Jerry Springer's on the tube, whipping his studio audience

into a frenzy. PAN OFF TO REVEAL DOZENS OF OLD FOLKS watching

on couches and folding chairs. An old black fellow named PETE

is grousing to a GROUP OF ELDERLY LADIES...

PETE:

Why we always watch this crap?

ELDERLY LADY #1

It's interesting.

PETE:

Interesting? Bunch'a inbred

trailer trash, all they ever talk

about is f***ing...

...and WE CONTINUE PANNING to Paul and Elaine sitting near

the back, talking quietly as Paul rubs his bruised hand:

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