stephen king's the shining - a screenplay in progress by mandolin hooper

8/8/2019 Stephen King's The Shining - a screenplay in progress by Mandolin Hooper

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THE SHINING

An adaptation of Stephen Kings novel by

Mandolin Hooper


2/37

THE SHINING

FADE IN:

INT. MANAGERS OFFICE DAY

Two men stand on one side of a nice desk, admiring several

sheets of floor plans laid out.

One is JACK TORRANCE, a mid-thirties man with thin dark

brown hair and a charming semi-constant smile that says

hire me. His suit is ironed, bought second-hand.

The other is STUART ULLMAN, the man whose office this is,

and the man whose desk he stands over with Jack Torrance,

his interviewee. Ullmans overwhelming cockiness and

condescension suggest hes a twenty-something stud on the

rise, but his bad teeth and graying hair give away those

extra thirty years. His suit is designer, but with a tie

that bad, it doesnt matter.

ULLMAN

The attic, here. Nothing much

to worry about for you,

though I do ask that you set

out a few traps and some

poison bait; one of my maids

believes there to be rats up

there. I dont buy it, not

for a minute, but there

musnt be even a one-in-one-

hundred chance that a single

rat inhabits the OverlookHotel.

JACK

Oh, I think every hotel in

the world has a rat or two in

it--


3/37

ULLMAN

Of course you wouldnt allow

your son up in the attic

under any circumstances.

Jack flashes a wide PR grin.

JACK

No.

(V.O.)

Officious little prick.

ULLMAN

One of the only areas of the

Overlook you shouldnt have

to worry about over the

winter; it seems every

manager since World War II

has put all their unwanted

items up there, and thats

about all its good for.

Ullman stashes the attic page at the bottom of the pile.

ULLMAN

We have one hundred and ten

guest quarters and thirty of

them, all suites, are here on

the third floor. The

Presidential Suite is here in

the west wing, and all of the

rooms command magnificent

views.

JACK

(V.O.)

Spare the sales talk.

Ullman stashes the page.

ULLMAN

The second floor. Forty

rooms, thirty of them doubles

and ten of them singles. And

on the first floor here,

twenty of each. Three linen

closets and two storerooms.


4/37

He points them out and stashes the page.

ULLMAN

And here we have the lobby

level. The registration desk

is in the center, the officesbehind it. In the west wing

we have the dining room and

the Colorado Lounge.

Questions?

JACK

Only about the basement.

Ullman begins to collect the pages and file them back in

the cabinet.

JACK

The most important level of

all for the caretaker.

Jacks PR grin. Ullman frowns and waves it off.

ULLMAN

Watson will show you all

that.

And as an afterthought, while Jack retreats to his chair on

the other side of the desk:

ULLMAN

The basement floor plan is on

the boiler room wall.

With the pages stowed away, Ullman sits as well, the desk

now separating the two men.

ULLMAN

Does your wife fully

understand what youd be

taking on here? And then

theres your son...

Ullman looks at a paper in front of him.

ULLMAN


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...Daniel.

Jack clears his throat.

JACK

Well, theyre bothextraordinary.

ULLMAN

I didnt know five year olds

could be extraordinary.

JACK

(V.O.)


PR grin.

JACK

Well, we like to think so, I

suppose. Hes quite self-

reliant.

No returning smile from Ullman. Actually, he frowns and

adjusts his tie before giving Jack a long stare.

ULLMAN

Ill be perfectly frank with

you, Mr. Torrance. Al

Shockley is a powerful man

with a large interest in the

Overlook, which showed a

sizeable profit this season

for the first time in...a

while, at least. Mr. Shockley

also sits on the Board of

Directors, and he has made

his wishes in this caretaking

matter quite clear. He wants

you hired. And I will hire

you. But if I had been given

a free hand in this matter, I

would not have done so.

JACK

(V.O.)



6/37

Ullman mulls over his next thought before saying.

ULLMAN

I dont believe you much care

for me, Mr. Torrance. Thats

fine. I dont believe many ofmy staff much care for me,

either. I suppose they see me

as a bit of a bastard. And I

am a bit of a bastard, at

least as far as theyre

concerned. One has to be a

bit of a bastard to run this

hotel in the manner it

deserves.

A pause, Ullman waiting for Jack to possibly comment. Jack

does not.

ULLMAN

The Overlook was finished in

1909 after three years of

troubled construction. A man

named Robert Townley Watson

built it, the grandfather of

our current maintenance man.

Vanderbilts have stayed here,

Rockefellers, Astors, Du

Ponts. Four presidents have

stayed in the Presidential

Suite. Wilson, Harding,

Roosevelt and Nixon.

JACK

I wouldnt be too proud of

Harding and Nixon.

Ullman frowns.

JACK(V.O.)

Shut up, Jack, you need the

job.

ULLMAN

It proved too much for Mr.

Watson, and he sold the hotel


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in 1915. It was sold again in

1922, 1929 and 1936. It stood

vacant until after World War

II, when it was purchased and

renovated by Horace Derwent,

millionaire inventor, pilot,

film producer,

entrepreneur...

JACK

I know the name.

ULLMAN

Yes. Everything he touched

turned to gold. But the

Overlook was an exception. He

funneled over a million

dollars into this place

before the first postwar

guest ever stepped foot

inside it. It was Derwent who

added the roque court I saw

you admiring when you

arrived.

Ullman casually points over his shoulder, loosely aiming

his finger out the window without looking.

JACK

Roque?

ULLMAN

A British forebear of our

croquet, Mr. Torrance.

Croquet is bastardized roque.

Derwent learned the game from

his social secretary and fell

in love with it. Not her, but

the game of course.

Jack briefly nods in understanding and shows a small and

honest smile, holding back the rest of it.

ULLMAN

The Overlooks may be the

finest roque court in

America.


8/37

JACK

I wouldnt doubt it.

ULLMAN

When he had lost three

million dollars, Derwent soldit to a group of California

investors. Their experience

with the Overlook was equally

poor. Just not hotel people.

Jack recrosses his legs and clears his throat. Ullman

notices.

ULLMAN

Anyway, in 1970 Mr. Shockley

and a group of his associates

bought the hotel and turned

its management over to me. We

have also run in the red for

several years, but Im happy

to say that last season we

broke even. The Overlooks

accounts were written in

black for the first time

in...as I said, quite a

while.

Jack nods and pauses.

JACK

Im not sure I see the

connection between the

Overlooks...colorful history

and your feeling that Im...

(choosing his words

carefully)

wrong for the post--

ULLMANIm getting there. One reason

the main reason that the

Overlook has so continuously

lost a great deal of money

lies in the depreciation that

occurs each winter. It

shortens the profit margin a


9/37

great deal. More than you

might believe, Mr. Torrance.

The winters are fantastically

cruel. The caretaker position

that I implemented when I

began my management position

seems to limit that

depreciation by quite a bit.

Your job is absolutely

instrumental in keeping the

Overlook Hotel in the black,

Mr. Torrance.

A sizeable pause. Ullman eyes his interviewee gravely.

ULLMAN

During our first winter here,

I hired a man named Delbert

Grady, he came up here with

his wife and two daughters.

Eight and ten, I believe they

were. No matter. I had my

doubts about him, Mr.

Torrance. He wasnt an

educated man. But he was an

intuitive type, he seemed to

understand things more than

his formal education might

suggest. So I hired himanyway. It was an error, I

freely admit, yes. But more

important than his education,

Mr. Torrance...the man was a

drunk.

It takes a quick moment to register, and Jack smiles not

that PR smile, but a sly grin of contempt-filled

understanding.

JACKThats it? Im surprised Al

didnt tell you. Ive

retired.

ULLMAN

Yes, Mr. Shockley told me you

no longer drink. But he also


10/37

told me about your last job.

Your last...position of

trust, let us say. You were

an English professor at a

Vermont prep school. You lost

your temper, I dont believe

I need to be any more

specific than that.

Jacks jaw clenches at the taste of a bad memory.

ULLMAN

Mr. Grady was also a man who

let his temper...get the

better of him. I suspect that

what happened came as a

result of too much cheap

whiskey, of which Grady had

apparently laid in a generous

supply, unbeknownst to me,

and a curious condition the

old-timers refer to as cabin

fever.

Ullman almost continues, but then pauses to condescendingly

ask:

ULLMAN

Do you know the term?

JACK

Its a slang term for the

claustrophobic reaction that

can occur when people are

shut in together over long

periods of time. Someone gets

beaten, or even killed, over

something as minor as a

burned meal or a dirty dish.

ULLMAN

And thats why Ive been

strict, ever since that

winter, about hiring someone

not attached a college boy

taking a year off, a

divorcee, something like


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that. But you have insisted

upon bringing your wife and

son--

JACK

(V.O.)Officious little prick.

ULLMAN

--And Al Shockley has

insisted that I hire you. So

you will understand my

misgivings about this

situation, Mr. Torrance.

Considering what happened.

JACK

(losing his

patience)

Well what didhappen, Mr.

Ullman?

Ullman pauses, wondering what to do with Jacks less-than-

pleasantness. He decides to ignore it, in favor of proving

a point:

ULLMAN

He chopped up his daughters

with an axe. He did the same

to his wife. Then he sat on

the bed in his quarters and

shot himself in the head with

a shotgun.

Silence.

ULLMAN

So you will understand my

misgivings, Mr. Torrance.

More silence, until Jack finally breaks it by clearing his

throat and forcing an awkward smile.

JACK

Well, Mr. Ullman, I have no

intention of bringing up any

liquor with me, and I have no


12/37

intention of doing my family

any shred of harm. Im sure

well manage to keep quite

busy.

Ullman keeps his glare, expecting more.

JACK

I have a play to write, and

the majority of my time here

will be dedicated to that. As

for my wife, shes an avid

reader, and shes got our son

to look after, Danny. They

both want to learn to

snowshoe, and Danny has his

puzzles and his coloring

books and his crystal radio

and whatnot. I also plan on

teaching him to read. So Im

sure well be able to stay

sane and keep out of each

others hair if the TV goes

on the fritz.

ULLMAN

Well, thats fine. But as

long as the three of you are

up here, the potential for

problems is multiplied. But

Mr. Shockley has said that he

will shoulder the

responsibility, and I have

little choice in the matter.

I only want whats best for

the Overlook. It is a great

hotel. I want it to stay that

way. Nothing personal, Mr.

Torrance.

Jacks PR grin as the two rise to shake hands.

JACK

Not at all.

ULLMAN

Then Watson will show you the


13/37

boiler.

FADE TO:

EXT. HOUSE DAY

The rental house is worn, and anyone could tell just by

looking at it that its seen its years. DANNY TORRANCE, the

child sitting on the curb in front of it, has seen his

years, too, though he hasnt actually lived many only

six.

He turns a relatively new-looking balsa glider over in his

hands, paying closer attention to the passing cars in the

street than on the toy, which has apparently already

received a broken wing.

After a moment of this distracted silence, his mother,

WENDY TORRANCE, steps outside and sits on the curb next to

him.

As she does so:

WENDY

Whats up, doc?

He turns his attention away from the cars and toward his

golden-haired mother, drawing up an unenthusiastic smile

and a perfunctory response.

DANNY

Hi, mom.

She begins to twirl the kitchen towel in her hands in much

the same way that Danny handles his plane.

WENDY

Want me to fix that for you?

Dannys back at the cars, but none of them seem to satisfy

his attention.

DANNY

No, Dadll fix it.

WENDY


14/37

Your dad may not be back

until suppertime, doc. Its a

long drive up into those

mountains. He might not even

be back until after you go to

bed, not if the bug breaks

down.

DANNY

No, the bug wont break down.

WENDY

Its an old car, Danny.

DANNY

The fuel pump will make it.

Even though dad doesnt think

so.

Wendy smiles curiously.

WENDY

Howdya know what a fuel pump

is, doc?

His focus on the cars breaks for a brief second.

DANNY

Oh. Dad told me about it.

Wendy accepts the answer with doubtful silence and stares

out into the street like her son.

They both sit there quietly, an inch of air between their

knees.

A breeze picks up and then dies.

Danny turns his head to his mother.

DANNY

Mom? Why did dad lose his

job?

Wendy stops twirling the rag and turns to face Danny, her

eyes a bit wide with surprise. She sees his expression of


15/37

matter-of-factness, and that seems to calm her sudden

nerves.

WENDY

Well. You remember your dad

was coaching the debate team?

DANNY

Sure. Arguments for fun.

WENDY

Right. Well, there was a boy

named George who your dad had

to cut from the team.

DANNY

Because he wasnt good

enough?

WENDY

Right. But George thought it

was because your dad just

didnt like him. So then

George

DANNY

Was he the one who cut the

holes in the bugs tires?

WENDY

Right. And your dad caught

him. And...

Wendy cuts herself off, wondering how to frame it, Danny

watching her face somewhat intently.

WENDY

Yknow, sometimes, when your

dad gets mad, he does things

hes sorry for later.

DANNY

Like the time I spilled his

papers?

A pause as Wendy fights every tear she can with hard

success.


16/37

WENDY

Something like that, doc.

Your dad hit George to make

him stop cutting the tires

and George hit his head.

DANNY

Hit dads head?

WENDY

No, I mean he hit his own

head. On the pavement. So

then the men in charge of the

school said your dad couldnt

teach there anymore.

Another pause.

DANNY

Oh.

Danny turns back to the street. Wendy watches his non-

reaction with wonder.

WENDY

Im gonna go back inside,

doc. You wanna come in with

me, have some cookies and a

glass of milk?

DANNY

No thanks, mom. Ill think

Ill watch for dad.

WENDY

Mmkay. I dont think hell be

home much before five,

though.

DANNY

Maybe hell be early.

WENDY

Maybe he will. Alright,

doc...

DANNY


17/37

Mom?

WENDY

Yeah?

DANNYDo you wanna go live in that

hotel for the winter?

WENDY

Uh, well...If its what your

dad wants, its what I want.

What about you?

Danny really gives it honest thought, unlike his mother.

DANNYI guess so. Nobody much to

play with around here,

anyways.

WENDY

Well, there wont really be

anybody to play with up at

the hotel, either, doc.

DANNY

I guess not.

Wendy waits for another question, and when nothing else

comes:

WENDY

Be sure to stay out of the

road, now.

DANNY

Alright, mom.

Wendy walks back up to the house, leaving her son to watch

the passing cars.

FADE TO BLACK

MAN

Now heres yer furnace.


18/37


19/37

Watson starts to chuckle but then cuts himself off,

frowning and shaking his head in distaste for a quick

moment.

WATSON

Hell, I shouldnt say thingslike that.

Jack purses his lips into a forgiving smile, but Watson

doesnt see it.

WATSON

Pressure gauge is here...

He taps it.

WATSON...PSI, pounds per square

inch, guess youd know that.

I got her up to a hunerd

now. The rooms get a little

chilly at night, nobody

complains, what the fuck. All

crazy to come up here in

September anyways.

Jack smirks.

WATSON

Youll wanna keep yer press

up to no more an fifty.

Sixty, maybe. Yopen an

close these ducks by pullin

these rings. Got em all

marked for ya. Blues the

east wing, reds the middle,

yellows the west.

JACK

Gotchya.

WATSON

The west gets the worst of

it. When it whoops, those

rooms get colder an a frigid

woman with an ice cube in er

works. An itll whoop, truss


20/37

me.

JACK

Now, the thermostats

upstairs--

WATSON

Juss fer show. These fuckers

down from California dont

think things is right less

its hot enough to grow a

palm tree. All the heat comes

from down here. Gotta watch

the press, tho, she creeps.

Ten years ago? Hell, shed go

fer three weeks an be juss

fine. But now?

Watson taps the mail dial before he positions himself in

front of the pressure wheel. He gives it a hard spin,

dumping the boiler off. It HISSES, loudly, and the needle

drops to ninety-one.

Watson twists the valve shut and wipes his neck.

WATSON

She creeps. Ullman, that lil

peckerwood, hell pull out

the books and tell ya he

cant get a new one till

1982. I just hope that

fuckers here when she blows,

cause this placell go sky-

high when she does. Juss come

down here twice a day an

once at night fore you rack

in, or shell just keep on

creepin.

JACKWhats the top end?

WATSON

Oh, shes rated fer two

fifty, but I wouldnt get

close to er at one eighty.


21/37

JACK

And theres no automatic

shutdown?

WATSON

Heh! You talk to Ullman boutsome automatic shutdown, see

how far ya get. But yall be

just fine. An remember to

switch those ducks around

like he wants. Wont none of

the rooms get much above

forty five, but youll have

yer own apartment juss as

warm as ya like.

JACK

And the plumbing?

WATSON

Oh, off in that corner. The

schematics are right there,

too. If she freezes, use that

lil orange torch over there,

youll find it. But that

dudden happen as much as

youd think.

Looking over toward Watsons referenced pipes, Jack sees

stacks and stacks of towering boxes filled with papers and

books and photos in the corners.

JACK

Whats all that over there?

Watson looks over his shoulder.

WATSON

What, that?

He turns back to Jack.

WATSON

Hell, you could prolly find

every scandal that ever went

down here if ya looked hard

enough. Receipts, newspapers,


22/37

an...well hell, I dunno.

Helluva lotta recyclin, ya

ask me.

JACK

Scandals?

WATSON

Oh, every hotels got its

scandals. Juss like every

hotels got its

superstitions. Heh - juss

like every hotels got its

rats, no matter what that

peckerwood says.

He jabs his thumb at the ceiling.

WATSON

But yknow. So many folks

comin an goin, one or

twos bound to have some

sorta story every now an

then.

Watson leans into Jack a bit and lowers his voice, despite

the fact that no one could hear him if he shouted.

WATSON

Hell, juss last year we had a

woman kill herself up there

in one-a those rooms.

JACK

No shit?

WATSON

Heh, and you can bet yer

pecker Ullman cleaned it up

real nice so no one much

heard about it. Gotta give

the lil fucker credit there,

hell keep things nice an

quiet if they needa be.

JACK

What happened?


23/37

WATSON

Well, here comes this woman,

muss be sixty years old, my

age fer chrissakes, and her

hairs dyed bout as red as a

whores stoplight, tits

saggin down to er belly

button and all. Legs lookin

like a couple-a road maps,

what with all them veins

stretchin around. And shes

got this kid with her! Caint

be no more an nineteen, an

sure as shit aint her son,

yhear? So theyre here a

week, maybe more, same drill

ery night down in the

Colorado Lounge, her suckin

up singapore slings like

theys outlawn em and him

with juss a bottle of

Olympia, suckin at it,

makin it last. Shed be

jokin, sayin all these

witty things and ery time

she said one hed grin juss

like a fuckin ape. Only

after a few days, you could

see it was gettin harder anharder fer him to grin.

Theyd go in to dinner, her

staggerin drunk as a coot,

him flirtin with all the

women when she wuddnt

lookin. Hell, we had bets on

how long the poor kid would

last. Anyways, one night he

leaves, takes that lil

Porsche they came in and

thats the last we see ofim. Next day, she comes down

lookin all pale an such.

Gets worse come evening.

Duddnt eat, juss drinks. All

them singapore slings. Hops

in the tub that night an out

go the lights. Pills, I


24/37

spose, I dunno. But dont

you say nothin now we had

a maid said she saw that

woman in there long after

they took er out. Ullman,

that peckerwood, gave her two

weeks-a walkin papers.

Watson blows his nose.

WATSON

Ullman want you to re-shingle

that rotted part of the roof?

JACK

I believe so, yes.

WATSON

Yeh, hell get all the fer

free outta ya that he can.

Alright, come out back with

me, Ill show ya the shed.

The two men leave, heading up the stairs, after Watson

snaps out the lights with their hanging chains.

FADE TO:

EXT. HOUSE DAY

The sun is setting, and the number of passing cars has

dwindled. Danny still sits on the curb, casually flipping

around that broken balsa glider in his hands.

His eyes wander around a bit now, not as focused on the

street as they once were. He takes a bored peek into the

neighbors yellow lawn, a cat basking in the shadows

underneath a tree, a passing young couple across the way,

one of the old, bright orange roofs.

He focuses on that roof for a moment, not really knowing

why.

Suddenly:

JACK

(V.O.)


25/37

Need to replace those

shingles before it gets too

cold, that Ullman, officious

little prick.

Danny frowns at his fathers curious thoughts, but doesntseem terribly surprised that he heard them. His eyes move

back to the street, though the cars hardly pass anymore.

He sighs, bored. Silence.

TONY

(O.S.)

Danneeeee...

The voice is dark, hoarse, gravelly, melancholic, dying,

distant.

Danny turns his head quickly to the right, seeing a far-off

black silhouette standing on the corner by a stop sign, a

block away.

The silhouette is nothing more than eerie shadow no

features can be made out at all. Its creepily lanky, a

slowly waving hand with bony fingers.

Danny seems relatively unfazed, even nearly happy to see

him, despite the mild monotone horror of the voice.

DANNY

Hi, Tony.

TONY

Danneeeee...

Tony stops waving and whatever remote happiness in Dannys

face fades. The gray in the sky heavies, things get darker.

CUT TO:

EXT. OVERLOOK HOTEL NIGHT

The porch lights of the hotel shine a dull yellow-green

through the fierce onslaught of snow. A lanky silhouette

stands perfectly still in one of the second floor windows,

looking out at the heavy blizzard.


26/37

Silence.

The snow keeps pouring on. As it does, a few small droplets

of blood fall, staining the thick white blanket that covers

a hundred yards. Seconds pass and more red droplets

sprinkle down. They double. A fine bloody mist begins tomix with the airborne flakes, and now half of what is

falling from the sky is purely blood. Thick drops splashing

when they reach the ground, the serene sheet of snow now

reeking with a stark red. More and more silhouettes appear

in all the other windows, all of them now glowing from the

inside, watching the horrific scene with no movement.

A snowflake can no longer be found in the sea of blood.

One by one, shrieks fill the hotel. Within moments, dozens

of them trying to top each other.

CUT TO:

INT. OVERLOOK HALLWAY NIGHT

The shrieks all stop.

Danny sits, terrified, his back to the corner, facing the

rest of the hallway. The hall stretches out for a mile into

the darkness, unending, rows of hundreds of rooms on either

side, a black and white hall rug pattered with snakes and

bones on the floor. The wallpaper is dingy, the lamps by

each door dim.

From the dark, a thick voice begins to yell. LOUD BOOMS

accompany it.

The voice gets louder, closer, darker. Danny crying.

A shadow emerges from the darkness, TOWERING in girth and

height, holding a thick and bloodied roque mallet. The

whole figure is completely shadowed.

BOOM. It slams the mallet into one side of the hallway.

BOOM. The other side.

BOOM. BOOM. Back and forth with each step, clouds of dusty

plaster bursting out of the wall with each hit. Blood

trickles from the gaping holes.


27/37

The figure taking large strides, getting closer and closer,

swinging that mallet into the walls, emitting a horrible

hoarse shriek:

SHADOW

COME HERE! COME HERE, YOULITTLE SHIT! COME HERE AND

TAKE YOUR MEDICINE, YOU

GODDAMED LITTLE PUP!

TAKE...YOUR...MEDICINE!

CUT TO:

EXT. HOUSE DAY

DANNY

Tony, stop it, Tony, no--

Danny catches himself almost crying at no one, back on the

curb at sunset. No one on the block, no passing cars, no

silhouette of Tony down the block.

He tries to collect himself as best as possible, seeing his

balsa glider at his feet and picking it up, wiping his

eyes.

Danny has a few moments to himself.

After a brief breeze tumbles crowds of brown leaves down

the sidewalk, the loud chatter of a car starts approaching.

He looks up to the street and sees the pale yellow bug

heading down the street, his father driving it.

Danny shakes the rest of his horrible thoughts away and

jumps up.

DANNY

Dad! Hi! Hi, dad!

Jack pulls the car in front of the house and gets out.

JACK

Hey, doc!

He picks Danny and up and swings him around in the air. As

he does so, Danny catches a glimpse of Tony down at the

corner, waving.


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Jack sets him down and Danny whirls around to see. Nothing

there anymore.

JACK

Whats a matter, Danny?

DANNY

Nothing. Whatd ya get?

Jack reaches into the passenger seat and pulls out a brown

paper bag.

JACK

Just some groceries. Can you

carry em in?

DANNYSure can!

JACK

There you go Daniel

Torrance, worlds strongest

man.

Jack hands his son the groceries and Danny runs inside as

fast as he can with all the weight. Jack follows him,

closing the car door.

Wendy meets him at the entrance, leaning against the

doorframe after Danny zooms past her. Jack sneaks his arms

around her.

JACK

Hiya, babe.

She smiles and gives in to the hug.

WENDY

Hey you.

A kiss.

WENDY

How was the trip?

JACK


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DANNY

(O.S.)

Hey dad!

JACK

What is it, doc?

Jack and Wendy enter the house and close the door behind

them.

CUT TO:

EXT. REXALL PARKING LOT DAY

The old bug pulls into a parking space and Jack shuts it

off. Dannys in the passenger seat, buckled up tightly.

JACK

Want you to stay in the car,

doc. Ill bring you a candy

bar.

DANNY

Why cant I come in?

JACK

I have to make a phone call.

Its private stuff, you know?

DANNY

Is that why you didnt make

it at home?

JACK

Check.

DANNY

Alright. Can you get me a

Baby Ruth?

JACK

Sure thing. Dont play with

the gearshift, right?

DANNY

Right. Ill look at the maps.

CUT TO:


31/37

INT. PHONEBOOTH DAY

Jack stands there silently, the battered payphone to his

ear, looking out at his son in the car.

The phone rings dully a number of times. Finally, it picks

up.

AL

Hello?

JACK

Al, this is Jack Torrance.

AL

Jacky-boy! How are you?

JACK

Good. I just called to say

thanks. I got the job. Its

perfect. If I cant finish

that goddamn play snowed in

all winter, Ill never finish

it.

AL

Youll finish.

Jack hesitates a second.

JACK

How are things?

So does Al.

AL

Still dry. After that night,

you know.

JACK

Yeah.

AL

You?


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JACK

As a bone.

AL

I sure dont know how you

stayed dry after thatHatfield thing, Jack. That

was above and beyond.

JACK

Yeah, I really bitched things

up for myself.

AL

Oh, hell, Ill have the

school board around by

spring. Effingers already

saying they mighta been too

hasty. That caretaker job

goes well, and youve got

nothing to worry about. And

if that play turns into

something--

JACK

Yeah, listen, my boys out in

the car, Al--

AL

Oh, sure-sure, I wont keep

you. You have a good winter

up there, Jack. Glad to help.

JACK

Thanks again, Al. Stay dry.

AL

Heh. You too, Jacky-boy.

JACK

Always.

Jack hangs up and leaves the phonebooth, heading toward his

car with a small plastic Rexall bag in his hand.

He gets in and produces a Baby Ruth from the bag. He hands

it to Danny, his mind distracted.


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JACK

Here you go, doc.

DANNY

Thanks, dad.

Jack starts the car, his brow furrowed in thought, driving

out of the parking lot. Danny looks at him.

DANNY

Dad?

JACK

Mmhm.

DANNY

When I was waiting for you tocome back from the hotel, I

had a bad dream. Do you

remember? When I was on the

curb?

JACK

Mm.

Danny pauses, watching his father and wondering if he

should continue. He decides against it, opening his candy

bar.

Jack stares straight ahead at the road, his mind elsewhere.

SLOW FADE TO:

INT. ALS JAGUAR NIGHT

Jack, two years younger and dressed in a loosened and

somewhat disheveled suit, is driving. Al Shockley lounges

in the passenger seat.

Both are clearly heavily intoxicated.

AL

Shell never leave you.

JACK

Yeah, she will. Shes...shes


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real strong, yknow? The only

reason shes still here is

because her mothers such a

Grade A bitch. If she had any

other place to go, shed go

there. But she doesnt, so

shes here. But shell leave,

Al. Shell leave me after

what I did.

AL

Chrissakes, Jack, whatd you

do? Youve gotta tell me what

happened.

Jack fidgets in his seat a bit and gives Al a nervous

glance.

He clears his throat as if to say, but doesnt.

What seem like hours of silence pass.

Jacks eyes redden trying to hold back the tears.

JACK

I broke Dannys arm, Al.

Al stares at him grimly. Jack begins to cry.

JACK

I broke my sons arm. I was

drunk, he had spilled all of

my papers all over the floor,

I was just trying to pull

him--

Jacks words are cut off as he gets a brief glimpse of a

childs BICYCLE standing in the middle of the road, less

than a foot ahead of the car traveling forty-five miles an

hour.

Jack slams on the brakes as if it would make a difference.

The horrible grinding sound of tearing metal fills the car,

and both Jack and Al shoot halfway out of their seats.

Something flies over the top of the car, making a muffled

THUD on its way.


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Tires pop on both vehicles.

The Jaguar slides to a final stop, one of the headlights

with a newly shattered cover.

The whole hood is terribly scratched and marked up withburnt rubber. The windshield is cracked on Als side.

They sit in stunned and panicked silence for no more than a

couple seconds.

AL

Jesus, Jack. We ran him down.

I felt it.

They both get out of the car, shaking with fear and

staggering with a lack of sobriety.

The childs bike sits in the middle of the road, terribly

mangled, with one wheel missing. The other one has spokes

sticking into the sky like piano wire. The street is

littered with small pieces of metal and glass debris.

AL

I think thats what we ran

over, Jacky-boy.

JACK

Then wheres the kid?

AL

Did you see a kid?

JACK

Well what was it doing in the

middle of the road, Al? It

wasnt parked on the side, it

was parked right in the

fucking middle!

Al doesnt respond.

CUT TO:

EXT. STREET NIGHT


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Up until the sun begins to rise, Jack and Al endlessly scan

every corner and every ditch for any trace of the rider to

no avail.

FADE TO:

INT. HOUSE DAY

Wendy stands at the sink doing dishes, her back to her

husband.

Jack sits at the dining table, a cigarette dangling from

his shaking fingers.

WENDY

Jack, Ive been thinking.

She pauses in case Jack wants to respond, but he doesnt.

WENDY

I want to talk to you

about...about whats best for

me and Danny. For you too,

maybe. I dont know. We

should have talked about it

before, I guess.

JACK

Would you do something for

me? Would you do me a favor?

The question catches Wendy off guard, but she doesnt turn

to face Jack. He sits, staring at her back.

WENDY

...What?

JACK

Lets talk about it a week

from today. If you still want

to.

Wendy turns to him, about ready to lose her patience.

WENDY

Jack, promises dont work

with you. You just go right


37/37

stephen king's the shining - a screenplay in progress by mandolin hooper

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