St. Vincent Page #5

Maggie doesn’t take kindly to being called stupid.

MAGGIE:

Excuse me. There’s no need to be

rude. Okay. I’m just moving in

here. I hired this company. Okay.

Accidents happen.

A LITTLE BOY comes up to Maggie’s side. This is OLIVER.

Twelve. Frail. Four eyes. Painfully awkward and very

sensitive. He’s one of those invisible types.

13.

VINCENT:

Accidents happen. What’re you a

f***ing adjuster?

Maggie puts her arm around Oliver.

MAGGIE:

Do you mind, mister?

Vin looks at Oliver. Absorbs him.

VINCENT:

That car’s an antique, missy.

Worth a lot of money.

She looks at the car. More like a piece of sh*t.

MAGGIE:

I’ll figure out how to-

VINCENT:

You. You don’t have any money. No

offense. You don’t look like you

do. And I’ll bet Chico and the Man

over there are “off the books.”

No, thank you, blondie, I’ll sue

the moving company.

Vin walks off.

VINCENT (CONT’D)

You can buck up for the tree and

the fence.

He hits the front door. Oliver looks up at his mom.

OLIVER:

That’s our new neighbor.

MAGGIE:

Yep.

OLIVER:

It’s gonna be a long life.

INT. MAGGIE & OLIVER’S HOUSE - NIGHT

Oliver’s bedroom. The room has a bed in it, little else.

The evening ritual is in progress: bedtime book time.

Although...Oliver is the one reading: “The Giving Tree.”

Maggie’s on a beanbag on the floor, nursing a Chardonnay.

OLIVER:

(reading)

“I wish that I could give you

something, but I have nothing

left.” I am just an old stump. “I

don't need very much now," said the

boy.

(MORE)

14.

OLIVER (CONT'D)

"Just a quiet place to sit and

rest. I am very tired." "Well,"

said the tree, straightening

herself up as much as she could,

"Well, an old stump is good for

sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit

down. Sit down and rest." And the

boy did. And the tree was happy.

Maggie drinks her wine.

MAGGIE:

God, that’s depressing.

She gets up.

OLIVER:

No, it’s not. The old tree was

made to give. So to be able to

give everything and have nothing

left is the best life the tree

could ever have.

She tucks Oliver into bed. Kisses his forehead.

MAGGIE:

That’s one way to look at it. Need

you to catch the bus tomorrow.

OLIVER:

It’s my first day.

MAGGIE:

Mine too. Can’t be late.

Maggie goes to turn off the light.

OLIVER:

Where’s the bus line?

MAGGIE:

Get on the internet in the morning.

You’re good at that. Good night,

love.

OLIVER:

Night.

She turns the light off. Oliver settles into the

darkness.

EXT. CITY STREET - THE NEXT MORNING

Bus stop. Maggie’s old Volvo sits in the bus lane.

Oliver’s outside the door, leaning in the window. He’s

dressed in a Catholic School uniform. Maggie hands him a

lunch box.

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