Beloved Page #5

SETHE:

Nothing ever does. That's why I had to

get my children out. No matter what.

That's why you can never go there.

DENVER:

You never tell me all what happened. Just

that they whipped you and you run off

pregnant with me.

SETHE:

You don't need to know nothing else.

DENVER:

(nods)

I saw a white dress kneeling next to you

when you was praying.

SETHE:

White? Maybe it was my bedding dress.

Describe it to me.

DENVER:

Had a high neck. Whole mess of buttons

coming down the back.

SETHE:

Buttons. Well, that's not my bedding

dress. I never had a button on nothing.

What else?

DENVER:

A bunch at the back. On the sit down

part.

SETHE:

A bustle?

DENVER:

I don't know what it's called.

SETHE:

You say it was holding on to me. How?

DENVER:

Kneeling next to you while you were

praying. I mean, talking. It looked just

like you.

SETHE:

Well, I'll be.

DENVER:

I think it was a sign. I think maybe

baby's got plans.

SETHE:

What plans?

DENVER:

I don't know, but that dress holding onto

you got to mean something.

SETHE:

Maybe. Maybe it does.

Sethe smiles sympathetically for her lonely child. They hear

a sound in the house - floor boards creaking.

DENVER:

She's crawling again.

Sethe nods and holds her daughter's hand as they listen.

FADE OUT;

SUPER:
1873.

FADE IN;

EXT. 124 BLUESTONE ROAD - DAY.

C.U. - PAUL D. GARNER.

Paul stands on the road, gazing up at the house. Grateful

he's arrived, cautious about what he'll find, he steps

towards the porch. His clothes are ragged. His feet sore and

blistering in his shoes.

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