breaths come slow. Near death. Calmly, in v.o.:
You’re looking at a rich man.
I wasn’t that once.
a mirror in his bedroom, clad in Sunday’s finest. He’s
“Windham County, Vermont, 1887.”
to young Bill...
Look prim, Elizabeth. Is our boy
everything. Everything dominoes
from that first impression. I want
him in a tie if he's not already-
ANGLE. WILLIAM. In his room. This all too much, too
buggy through the window:
Good God, look at that buggy. What
ANGLE. BILL’S MOTHER--ELIZABETH--ascending the stairs,
calling out to Bill-
William, Mr. Chandler's here-
Following her as she steps into Bill’s room. It’s empty.
ELIZABETH HASKELL (CONT’D)
footholds are. He climbs deftly.
We are with him for a beat. This place: his hideout, refuge.
And whatever was back there...was not what he wanted.
BYRON EPSTEIN, also 10.
done this a lot over the years. Finally:
They're sending me to boarding
school. I didn't think they were
actually going to do it-
What's at boarding school?
You got a shit-ton of manners.
They say it's gonna get me prepared
for preparatory school.
Isn't that what prep school's for?
YOUNG EPSTEIN (INCREDULOUS)
YOUNG BILL (SURVEYS RIVER)
Doesn't matter. Everyone's doing it
earlier and earlier now. And my
dad, if there's one thing he hates,
it's being left behind.
But it's not about him-
It's not about me.
(considers the night)
Feel like I'm in a box. Locked up
in my own life. Without a key.
No way. Me and you...we're free.
Look at us. They can put you in
school for a bit, but that ends. Me
and you, the world can't hold us.
wanna go...when we're older, we can
do it. Me and you.
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