Lou

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EXT. DENSE WOODS (SAN JUAN ISLAND) - EARLY MORNING (1985)

A LARGE BUCK walks amongst the trees, golden sunlight

highlighting its short brown fur. It stops, noses a tree

trunk, tearing off the bark, chewing.

OFF TO THE SIDE:
an ELDERLY COUPLE on an early morning stroll

talk QUIETLY, pointing at the buck. It really is a pretty

deer.

-RIFLE SCOPE POV: a scope scans the trees. It lands on the

Elderly Couple before finding the deer. Then it returns to

the unsuspecting couple, aiming.

But finally, reluctantly, it snaps back to the animal. The

cross-hairs settle between the deer’s eyes.

There’s an EXHALE and a POP. Then the MUTED THUD of the deer

falling onto the ground. Followed by the SHOCKED YELPS of-

ELDERLY COUPLE-

Horrified, they clutch each other, turning in the direction

of the shooter.

ANGLE ON SHOOTER-

This is not your average hunter. Or person. This is LOU

(female, older), a wrinkled warrior whose aging body belies

her keen mind. She’s lived twice as hard as anyone else and

will never learn the rules to shuffle board.

Lou gives the Elderly Couple a curt wave.

LOU:

Morning.

They wave back, afraid of what will happen if they don’t.

They watch as Lou makes her way to the deer, passing a sign

that reads:
SAN JUAN NATIONAL PARK. NO HUNTING.

ANGLE ON DEER-

Glassy eyes reflect a cloudy sky. There’s still a slight lift

to the chest. It’s alive. LOU’S BOOTS appear beside the body.

LOU (CONT’D)

Hm.

She pulls a large HUNTING KNIFE from the pocket of her

flannel jacket, unsheathing it as she kneels.

Her fingers brush along the deer’s fur. She finds the artery

and plunges her knife deep. The deer passes quickly.

2.

LOU (CONT’D)

Wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Sorry about that.

Lou holds her bloody fingers in the air, eyeing them with

disdain as they tremble. The Elderly Couple scurries away

down the path.

Behind her, the BUSHES SHAKE and JAX, a mangy, mixed breed

dog emerges from the leaves. Like Lou, he moves slower than

he use to. He’s a good dog who’s seen better days.

He SNIFFS the dead deer. Then looks back at Lou. Wearily.

LOU (CONT’D)

Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask

for help.

And with that, Lou slits the deer’s throat, draining the

blood.

EXT. SAN JUAN ISLAND (WASHINGTON STATE) - ESTABLISHING

An AERIAL VIEW of the craggy island situated off the coast of

Washington, a heavily wooded place with a few pockets of

civilization and a gorgeous harbor. The type of place where

everyone knows your name whether you want them to or not.

EXT. ROAD/PARKING LOT (SAN JUAN BANK) - AFTERNOON

Lou steers an old rusted F-150 truck, held together with duct

tape and stubbornness, into the parking lot.

The lot is full of similar looking vehicles, making it

difficult to tell if all the cars are old or we’re in 1985.

ANGLE ON TRUCK BED-

The butchered deer bounces beneath a piece of heavy canvas.

Jax sleeps soundly on top, despite the bumpy ride.

INT. SAN JUAN BANK (SAN JUAN ISLAND) - MOMENTS LATER

Lou enters and chooses between two open tellers. The UNCHOSEN

TELLER looks relieved. RITA (30’s), the chosen teller,

smiles, making the best of it. Her enormous shoulder pads and

bold eye shadow confirm we’re definitely in the eighties.

RITA:

Hi Lou! How can I help you today?

LOU:

Here’s my account number. I’d like

to withdraw all my money.

3.

Lou slides a piece of paper across the counter. Rita types

the info into a primitive-looking computer.

RITA:

That’s quite a large sum, Lou.

She talks to Lou slowly and loudly, a nursing home

intonation. If possible, Lou’s scowl deepens.

RITA (CONT’D)

I’m not sure if there’s protocol

for such a large withdrawal. Let me

get my manager. You stay here a

minute, alright?

LOU:

Hm.

Lou watches Rita depart. She clocks the bank’s generic

furniture, fake plants and Orca themed posters from the San

Juan tourist department, finally landing on a wall mirror.

Lou’s reflection reads,”how the hell did I get here?”

INT. MANAGER’S OFFICE (BANK) - MOMENTS LATER

Rita and MR. LANCASTER (40’s), the bank manager, stand

together looking out the window. The sky darkens ominously. A

storm’s brewing.

MR. LANCASTER

If she’s erratic, we should contact

her family.

RITA:

I’m not sure she’s got family.

MR. LANCASTER

She seem like she’s lost her mind?

RITA:

She seems like...Lou.

They turn, looking at Lou through the cubicle’s glass walls.

RITA (CONT’D)

Is that blood?

They step closer to the glass for a better look, behaving as

if it was opaque.

ANGLE ON LOU-

The cuff of Lou’s shirt is indeed stained a dark, rusty red.

4.

Next to her, the Teller smacks open a ROLL OF QUARTERS. It

explodes, sending coins across the counter.

Lou reacts, catching them with astonishing agility. For any

age. Her eyes glimmer. This makes up for the deer. Almost.

ANGLE ON MANAGER’S OFFICE--

MR. LANCASTER

Just give her the money. And if you

and Betsy got to leave early to

avoid the storm, that’s fine by me.

RITA:

(nodding)

You stopping by my place tonight?

Mr. Lancaster fidgets. He’s wearing a wedding ring. Rita is

not. He shakes his head, “no.”

MR. LANCASTER

Got to keep an eye on the pump

tonight. Every time the basement

floods, the mold gets real bad.

Rita frowns, unsatisfied with his answer. She sashays her way

back to Lou as Mr. Lancaster eyes her ample behind.

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