Walking In Paradise
(excerpt)
FADE IN:
INT—PEG’S DEN—PEG—DAY
Peg Macmullen, an aging, affluent widow, sits at her small wooden desk drinking coffee, and brooding over a letter she’s writing. In the middle of the room is her dining room table. There, the morning newspaper lies, still folded in half. Behind her, the sliding glass door to her apartment balcony is half-open. The sheer drapes billow languidly in the breeze. She’s dressed to meet the day, in a light cream-colored top and orange slacks—but has not put on her shoes. Her reading glasses sit low on her nose; her strawberry blonde hair is perfectly coiffed. Even with her advanced years, it’s obvious she was once a beautiful woman.
We ZOOM in slowly as the PHONE on the desk RINGS. Peg answers, her voice dripping with false geniality.
PEG
Hello. Ronda? Oh, I’m so sorry I couldn’t get back to you yesterday. Oh, it was terrible! I had the car in the shop till three; then I had to drop off those leaflets for the Women’s Guild. By the time I got back it was late, and I was just pooped. ANYway, I feel like I’m coming down with something; my throat is just sore, and of course my arthritis is acting up. Yeah, I think I’m gonna have to pass. Well, win a hand for me, will you! And give my love to everyone. Alright, sweetie.
Peg’s voice FADES as JOHN begins his narration.
JOHN (VO)
My mom died on January 2, 2001.
PEG replaces the receiver.She puts the last touches on her letter, takes one last look at it, and puts down the pen. She takes a swig of her coffee, and looks toward the sliding glass door. Removing her glasses, she gets out of her chair and ambles out to her 13th floor balcony.
CUT TO:
EXT—BALCONY—PEG
TRAFFIC NOISE rises from the street as Peg looks out on a morning tableau of apartments and hotels, with DIAMOND HEAD looming in the background. We realize we are in Waikiki Beach, Hawaii.
Peg takes a PATIO CHAIR and pulls it close to the balcony railing. She steps up on the seat and swings a leg up on the railing. Straddling the railing, and holding it with both hands, she glances down briefly before pulling the other leg over. She is poised on the ledge now, facing the balcony, looking down over her shoulder at the street far below.
By now, she has caught the attention of some pedestrians.
PASSERSBY (OS)
(Faint)
What the hell? Look! Oh my God! No, lady, don’t do it! Please, ma’am! Just stop…
Peg’s foot slips off the ledge. She hangs by her hands for a horrible moment, then regains her footing.
PASSERSBY (OS)
We’ll get some help. Just hang on, for God’s sake!
Peg lets go of the railing and jumps.
PASSERSBY (OS)
(Gasps; a moment later they are surveying the horrific scene on the ground)
Aah, no! Dear God! Somebody call 911! Poor thing!
INT—DEN
Silence, as the breeze continues to caress the drapes, and steam rises from Peg’s half-drunk cup of coffee.
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