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MOVIES YOU WILL SEE/The Journey of Natty Gann/Part 16

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

INT CAGED BUS/GREELY INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL NIGHT

Natty and The Wolf ride in the back of a converted school bus. There’s a wire mesh cage separating them from 2 UNIFORMED GUARDS in the front.

The Wolf GROWLS like a furious, caged lion, and Natty watches with wide-eyed trepidation as the bus drives into the Greely Industrial School. She jumps with a start as huge metal gates CLANG ominously closed behind them.

Natty stares at the hulking, gloomy 2-story brick building which dominates the courtyard, and at the ¼’ block wall which encircles all of Greely and separates it from the outside.

INT GREELY INDUCTION OFFICE NIGHT

Natty stands anxiously in front of an enormous desk in a cold, dreary office. JAKE, one of the Guards from the bus, stands beside her.

SAM PARKS enters the room in a flurry. He wears a civilian suit but grabs an officer’s hat from the rack on the wall and puts it on his head as he sits behind the desk and shuffles through the paperwork in front of him. He’s obviously annoyed.

        SAM
Okay, okay. Let’s make this
fast. What’ve we got? The usual?

Jake nods his head and Sam flnds the right form.

        SAM
Alright. Here we go. Name?

        NATTY (softly)
Natty Gann.

        SAM
Full name. Speak up.

        NATTY
Natalie Sue Gann.

        SAM
Where do you live?

        NATTY
Uh…

        SAM
Vagrant. Where’s your folks?

        NATTY
I uh…

        SAM
0rphan.

        NATTY
I’m not. . .

        SAM
Put her in 1, Jake.

Sam stamps Natty’s papers with an official seal while Jake leads her away. She yells over her shoulder as she goes.

        NATTY
I’m no orphan!

        SAM
Yeah, sure kid. Sure.

Jake and Natty disappear through the barred door at the end of the room.

INT DORMITORY NIGHT

A hard looking JAIL MATRON walks with Natty down an aisle made by 2 rows of metal beds in a drab, cement walled dormitory.

Natty can feel the piercing stares of the other GIRLS in here. There are 10 of them and they watch her closely, sizing her up.

The Jail Matron stops at an empty bed near the end. She waits impatiently, towering over Natty.

        MATRON
This is yours. No talking after
8. Up at 5.

Natty climbs on the thin, hard, horsehair mattress.

The Jail Matron walks back down the aisle, her FOOTSTEPS reverberating through the room. She turns at the doorway, makes a headcount, then flicks the light switch.

Her VOICE BOOMS back at them through the darkness as she walks away.

        MATRON
No talking!

Natty lies in her bed, her eyes darting back and forth as they become accustomed to the dark. She stares at the metal bars on the windows and sets her jaw as she hears the far door SLAM and the deadbolt slide into place, locking them in.

She tracks the other beds. Several of the girls are propped on their elbows, staring back at her with hard, cruel looks.

One of the girls, TWINKIE, a 13 year o1d, climbs out of her own bed and moves to Natty’s. She talks in a loud whisper.

        TWINKIE
Welcome to the funny farm. What
are you in for?

        NATTY
Cattle rustling.

        TWINKIE
No joke?

Natty nods and Twinkie laughs.

        SHEILA
Shhhhhh

        TWINKIE
Dry up Sheila!

Twinkie smiles at Natty and continues talking.

        TWINKIE
You’re lucky you got this bed.
It was June’s. She’s stuck in a
Meditation Room. We may never
see her again. She tried to
break out. Dumb.

The Jail Matron’s VOICE booms at them from the darkness.

        MATRON
QUIET!


Twinkie shrugs and streaks back to her own bed, leaving Natty alone to stare at the barred windows.

END PART 16

Part 17 Monday. (Hopefully, maybe Tuesday!)

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.

MOVIES YOU WILL SEE/ The Journey of Natty Gann/Part 15

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

EXT BULL PEN NIGHT

Parker, Davey, Rusty, Natty and the Wolf move to the other side of the Bull’s corral.

They stand outside, staring in at the Bull, awed by his incredible size and obvious power.

Parker tries to mask his apprehension. He shrugs and manages a crooked smile as the Bull spins in a circle, paws the ground and SNORTS menacingly.

        PARKER
We get him in the trailer and
we’re off. It’s easy.

Davey and Rusty try to match his bravado.

       DAVEY
Yeah. Easy.

       RUSTY
A snatch.

But they sneak anxious, sideways glances at one another.

Parker turns first to Natty then to the boys.

        PARKER
Okay. You and the bulldog push
him from behind. You guys get
the gate.

        NATTY
Where are you going to be?

        PARKER
I’m the driver. Okay? I mean
you don’t mind, do you?

Natty shrugs. Parker turns to Davey and Rusty and nods.

They move to the gate which leads into the narrow chute with the waiting stock trailer at its end. They slide back the heavy metal bolt and swing it open. Natty and The Wolf cautiously enter the Bull’s corral. 

Natty stares at the Bull and swallows hard.

        NATTY
Okay Bull. Go on. Shoo.
Pssst. Go on.

The Bull stares back at her. He lowers his head and paws the ground.

Parker calls encouragement from the fence.

        PARKER
Remember, he’s more scared of
you than you are of him.

        NATTY
Want to bet?

The sweat beads on Natty’s face as the Bull paws the ground and SNORTS.

She takes a step forward and waves her arms to turn him toward the open gate, but he paws with the other leg and tenses, as if ready to charge.

The Wolf GROWLS menacingly and steps in front of Natty. His body hunkers low to the ground, coiled, ready to spring. He inches forward, almost in slow motion and gains ground on the Bull.

The Bull SNORTS at The Wolf. The Wolf SNARLS back at the Bull Their eyes lock. A conversation passes between them, through their eyes.

Then, as if he never had another thought, the Bull turns like a well mannered milk cow, and trots calmly through the open gate and into the narrow chute.

Natty breathes a sigh of relief.

Rusty and Davey close the gate behind the Bull and wave their arms to keep him moving toward the stock trailer. He walks easily up the ramp.

Leon and Franco and Annie quickly close the trailer’s tailgate.

EXT ROAD AT CORRALS NIGHT

The kids converge on the trailer and turn to each other with smiles of congratulations.

Parker pats Natty on the back and slides his arm around her shoulder in a hug. She tenses and pulls away with an angry glare. The Wolf SNARLS guardedly.

Parker lifts his hands in the air with a shrug and moves away.

He climbs into the cab with Annie. The engine ROARS to life. The gears GRIND pathetically as Parker searches for first. Finally he finds it and steps on the gas peddle. The back wheels spin wildly. They chew into the ground and white smoke billows up. The acrid smell of burning rubber fills the air.

The engine COUGHS and SPUTTERS to a stop.

        NATTY
You know how to drive this
thing?

        PARKER
Push. All of you.

Parker restarts the engine and the others gather around the truck. They push as Parker steps on and off the gas. The truck rocks back and forth. But still the wheels spin.

Suddenly the Bull begins to move in the trailer. His powerful legs STOMP on the wooden floorboards. The SOUND reverberates through the quiet night. The kids shoot worried looks to each other.

The Bull BELLOWS and throws his massive body against the sides of the trailer, rocking it threateningly. He CRASHES from side to side. The NOISE is enough to wake the whole town.

        FRANCO
Get us out of here will you?

        PARKER
What do you think I’m trying to
do?

        LEON
Uh oh…

The others follow Leon’s worried gaze to the light which has just come on in the caretaker’s cottage across the stockyard.

The CARETAKER moves onto the front porch to investigate, his rifle in his hand.

        NATTY
I thought you said he
was off for the week-end.

        LEON
I was wrong.

Parker guns the engine one more time and the truck lurches forward, bouncing away from the corral. Parker WHOOPS like a victorious cowboy.

As the truck picks up speed, Leon, Franco and Annie leap into the cab with Parker. Davey and Rusty jump on the running boards.

Natty hops onto the wooden bumper in back. She holds on tight as the truck moves faster and faster down the rutted dirt road. The Wolf running easily beside her.

But the bumper CRACKS under her weight and CRASHES to the ground.

Natty BUMPS across the dirt road, tumbling end over end. She scrambles to her feet but stops quickly, freezing in place.

Standing in front of her, looming large and menacing, his rifle pointed straight at her head, is the Caretaker.

END PART 15

Part 16 Monday, (Hopefully, maybe Tuesday!)

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.

MOVIES YOU WILL SEE/Journey of Natty Gann/Part 14

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

 INT ABANDONED BUILDING DAY

Parker’s camp is in an abandoned building with a missing roof. There are a handful of broken chairs and boxes and crates for furniture.

Natty sits with her hand on The Wolf’s head, and a plate of stew on her lap, eating hungrily.

Parker sits across from Natty with the others spread around him. There are two more teenage boys in the group now, RUSTY and DAVEY. And a teenage girl, ANNIE, who leans suggestively against Parker and glares a sour, jealous glare at Natty.

Natty watches curiously as Parker slips his arm around Annie’s waist and nuzzles the back of her neck. Natty swallows hard and returns to her stew.

Parker smiles his charming, calculating smile.

        PARKER
So you’re looking for your old
man huh?

She nods.

        NATTY
He’s waiting for me.

        LEON
Yeah, sure….And my name’s
Franklin D. Roosevelt.

The others laugh. Natty drops her eyes and allows just the slightest hint of a doubtful shrug.

        FRANCO
I haven’t seen my old man in 3
years. He took off. It killed
him, watching my old lady make 1
potato go 7 ways.

Natty finishes her stew and licks the remains with her finger.

        PARKER
Get her some more, Annie.

        ANNIE
But we don’t…

        PARKER
Get some Annie.

Annie grimaces at Parker then moves to the pot of stew cooking over a fire in what used to be a fireplace.

        DAVEY
Towards the end my old man
couldn’t even look at us.
That’s why he left. I don’t
blame him.

        LEON
Hell, all mine did was beat on
me and my old lady, anyway. I
was glad when he left.

        RUSTY
They all think they’re coming
back. But once they’re gone,
they figure out they’re better
off.

        PARKER
And so’s everybody else.

Natty looks anxiously from one to the other. Their words sink into her like heavy stones.

        PARKER
We don’t need them anymore.

Natty stares at Parker. The doubt is taking over, and with the doubt comes a hard, angry, empty feeling.

Parker recognizes his opportunity and moves in.

        PARKER
We’ve got each other. We’re
like family. The difference is
with us you get to pick your
relatives. And everybody
carries their share.

The Wolf GROWLS as Annie approaches but Natty quiets him and gratefully accepts her second plate of food, gobbling it hungrily as she thinks over Parker’s proposition.

INT/EXT GREYHOUND BUS LATE DAY

Sol’s anxious,unshaven face stares through the window of a Greyhound bus as it winds its way slowly south-east from Washington to Colorado.

He watches raindrops land with a splash at the top of the window and run in small torrents down to the bottom.

And he watches an old Ford pickup as it passes in the opposite direction carrying an “Oakie” FAMILY of 10, all their sad, miserable belongings stuffed into the back and tied onto the top and sides.

EXT RAILROAD SIDING/LOADING DOCK NIGHT

There are 50 head of cattle penned together in a corral along the side of the train tracks. And off to the left, penned by himself, in a stout, reinforced corral, is an enormous BLACK ANGUS BULL.

Natty and The Wolf and the other hobo kids race through a nearby pasture and sneak their way to the loading dock.

They cluster in the shadows of the wooden loading chute and talk in HEAVY WHISPERS, their eyes glued to the big Bull.

        PARKER
That’s him. Ready?

The others nod their heads. Only Natty hesitates.

        NATTY
I don’t know.

        PARKER
What!?

        NATTY
It’s stealing.

       PARKER
Not the way I look at it…
Besides, if you’re with us, you
chip in like everybody else. If
not, get lost.

        LEON
She’s just ye11ow.

        NATTY
Hell if I am.

        PARKER
Then shut up and let’s go.

Natty swallows her apprehensions and follows the others as Parker leads them in an army styled crouch-and-run across the yard.

They fan out. Leon and Franco and Annie move to a truck and stock trailer parked nearby. They release the handbrake and roll it back toward the chute at the end of the Bull’s pen.

END PART 14

Part 15 Monday, (Hopefully, maybe Tuesday!)

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.

MOVIES YOU WILL SEE/The Journey of Natty Gann/Part 13

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

EXT THE MILL DAY

The Mill is a huge lumber mill in the mountains of Washington state.

Barges and large blocks of logs float on the water, and thick, white smoke pours from tall stacks which stand next to long, wide milling rooms.

INT MILL OFFICE DAY


Sol hovers anxiously over a telephone inside one of the offices at The Mill.

His voice is tough and hard, echoing his anger and concern.

There’s NOISE and commotion in the background as WORKERS pass in and out, getting instructions from the B0SS who sports a heavy gut and a stubby cigar.

        SOL
Listen hard Sally. I’m coming
back there to find her myself…
What do you mean sit down? I
don’t have to sit down. Just
tell me what’s going on!

The color drains from Sol’s face as he listens to the other end of the phone conversation. He can feel his knees start to buckle and he sinks slowly into a chair. His voice is barely a whisper as he responds.

He listens again but his eyes are glazed. It seems as if the tone has left his muscles. Without saying good-bye, he slowly hangs the receiver back in its cradle and continues to stare blankly ahead.

        BOSS
What’s the matter Gann?

        SOL
They found my kid’s wallet.
Buried under a train. Colorado.

        BOSS
Aw Jesus…

        SOL
What the hell was she doing in
Colorado ?

Sol seems distant and drained, like a shell of himself.

EXT WOODS DUSK/RAIN

Natty pulls her thin jacket, tighter around her, to fight off the chill and the rain.

She gathers branches full of leaves and a few moldy pieces of cardboard and starts piecing them together, building a shelter near the base of a large tree.

She looks at The Wolf who seems unimpressed.

        NATTY
It’s gonna be great. You’ll see.

She puts the finishing touches on her creation.

        NATTY
Tah dah…

She crawls excitedly inside but the wolf is reluctant to follow.

Natty smiles proudly through the open front flap.

        NATTY
The Ritz.

Suddenly the roof begins to sag and the walls start to sway.

Natty’s eyes widen. The Wolf WHINES. Within moments then entire structure comes CRASHING down.

Natty sits in the middle of the rubble with a crooked grin on her face. She turns to The Wolf and shrugs.

EXT CHUGWATER COLORADO DAY

Natty walks along a road and The Wolf walks close beside her, all his senses on alert. He hesitates as they approach the outskirts of town. He looks longingly at the woods, but Natty presses on and he follows.

They make their way up Main Street and stop in front of a grocery store. Natty stares hungrily at the food displayed inside. Her stomach GRUMBLES.


Three lanky teenagers PARKER, LEON and FRANCO approach from the opposite direction. Parker pokes the other two in the ribs.

They eye The Wolf carefully and watch with detached amusement as Natty approaches a store CLERK.

        NATTY
Hey Mister…I wonder if you
could let me…

The Clerk turns to her with tough, unsympathetic eyes.

        CLERK
No! I’m sick of you kids panhandling. Sick. You hear me?

        NATTY
But I…

        CLERK
No ! Now beat it before I call a cop. Git!

Natty backs away from the store and continues down the street. She hesitates as she reaches the boys ahead.

They’re spread across the narrow, wooden sidewalk…Parker leaning against a building, Leon stretched on a bench, Franco straddling a rail…effectively blocking her path.

Natty wraps her hand in the fur around The Wolf neck and sucks in her breath.

Parker, the obvious leader, smiles. He nods towards the clerk and shakes his head.

        PARKER
Wrong. All wrong.

        NATTY
Huh?…

        PARKER
Your line. The way you hit on him.

        NATTY
You know a better way?

        LEON
You’d be surprised.

Natty looks at his ragtag clothes and sneers.

        NATTY ( sarcastically )
Not by you, Ringworm.

        LEON
Hey you’re asking for it.

Leon gets off the bench and moves forward threateningly. The Wolf is much more threatening as he steps protectively in front of Natty and curls back his lip in an ugly SNARL.

Leon retreats quickly. Parker smiles, trying to change the mood.

        PARKER
Nice dog.

        NATTY
He’s a wolf.

        PARKER
0h yeah? There’s a bounty on
wolves around here. Too bad.

        NATTY
What’re you talking about?

        LEON
They shoot wolves, stupid.

Natty’s eyes widen anxiously. Her grip tightens around The Wolf’s fur.

        NATTY
Don’t call me stupid.

        PARKER
Take it easy, girl. We’re not
the enemy. Maybe we can help.

        NATTY
How?…

        PARKER
The stem’s tough. Especially on
your own.

        NATTY
The stem? What’s that mean?

        LEON
Cripes the girl’s green.

        PARKER
Begging…Working the
street…It’s hard. But we
got other ways. There’s a group
of us tramping together.

Natty stares back, unconvinced.

       PARKER
You hungry?

Natty’s eyes widen and her mouth starts to water. But she tries to act nonchalant. She shrugs.

       NATTY
Maybe.

Parker smiles, amused. He signals her to follow them as they disappear down an alley.
END PART 13

Part 14 Monday, (Hopefully, maybe Tuesday!)

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.

MOVIES YOU WILL SEE/The Journey of Natty Gann/Part 12

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

EXT FARM DAY

It’s hot and the sun beats down as Natty hoes the back field, and Rosie drives the mule, the reins draped around her waist. Al walks behind the plow, straining to push it over rough terrain.

A HOWL from the woods cuts into the quiet. Natty turns immediately. A broad smile fi11s her face. She WHISTLES a mimicing call and searches the woods.

But there’s no smile from Al. His hands tighten on the plow and he sets his jaw. He peers hard into the woods for a glimpse of this hated creature.

Rosie calls to the mule to break the spell and pull them back to work.

        ROSIE
Haw Bucky. Pull.

The mule strains harder and Rosie pushes herself to keep up.

Natty continues hoeing, one eye still watching the woods.

Rosie’s pace begins to falter. There’s a thin line of sweat on her upper lip. Her grip slackens on the reins.

Suddenly her knees buckle. She sinks to the ground in a heap.

Al drops the plow and rushes to her.

He lifts her in his arms and carries her to the house, brushing past a disturbed, confused Natty.

        NATTY
What’s wrong?

        AL
Get the mule.

        NATTY
Is she okay?

Natty stands frozen in her tracks. Al repeats himself, more insistent this time, as he carries Rosie up the back stairs.

         AL
Get the damn mule!

Natty moves now. She rushes to the mule who takes off at a fast trot, dragging the bouncing plow behind him, making Natty follow in his dust.

INT BEDROOM DAY

Natty peers through the partially opened door at Rosie lying in bed.

Rosie seems weak and pale but she offers a smile and waves Natty inside.

        NATTY
You alright?

        ROSIE
I’m fine.

Natty eyes Rosie’s bulging stomach and seems unconvinced.

        NATTY
Yeah?

        ROSIE
Uh huh. Come here. It’s
moving. Feel it.

Natty makes a face and shakes her head no.

        ROSIE
Don’t be scared.

Rosie takes Natty’s hand and places it on her belly. Natty’s eyes widen.

        NATTY
Is that it? Is that the baby?

        ROSIE
That’s his foot.

        NATTY
It must hurt. Getting kicked
like that.

        ROSIE
No. The losing hurts but not
the bearing. …We had another
one that died.

        NATTY
Mv Momma died when I was a kid.
I can’t hardly remember her.

Natty pulls the picture frame from her pocket and opens it for Rosie.

        NATTY
There. That’s her. She was
pretty huh?

        ROSIE
Real pretty.

        NATTY
I look like my Dad. He’s in
Washington. Where I’m going.

        ROSIE
Does he know you’re coming?

        NATTY
More or less.

        ROSIE
Which is it?

        NATTY
I don’t know. Why? You think
he ran out on me or something?

        ROSIE
I didn’t say that…

        NATTY
He was going to send for me. I
couldn’t wait, that’s all. I
just couldn’t wait.

Natty pulls away from Rosie’s bedside and moves to the window, staring out at nothing.

EXT FARM EARLY DAWN

It’s very still,just before the dawn.

Three coyotes slink through the woods and into the field toward the farm.

They streak forward, toward the chicken coop and begin to dig their way quickly under the fence.

Suddenly The wolf leaps at them with a furious SNARLTNG GROWL. A battle begins with YIPS and GROWLS and SNAPPING JAWS.

The chickens CACKLE fearfully.

Lights snap on in the farmhouse.

A1 rushes outside with his rifle in hand. He sprints to the chicken coop, pulling up his suspenders as he goes.

He FIRES his rifle.

The coyotes react to the gun and race for the safety of the woods. But The Wolf stops in his tracks and stares at Natty as she emerges from the shed which is her room.

Al aims his gun straight at The Wolf’s head.

Natty looks from Al to The Wolf, horrified. She screams.

        NATTY
RUN!!!

Then Natty leaps at Al. Just as he squeezes the trigger, she hits the barrel of his rifle. His shot FIRES, wildly, harmlessly into the air.

The Wolf streaks into the woods.

Al stares at Natty with fury in his eyes. He swings at her with the back of his hand. She jumps out of the way then turns and takes off at a dead run.

Rosie steps onto the porch and pulls her robe tight around her against the morning chill. A frightened, worried look jumps into her eyes as she sees Natty disappear into the woods after The Wolf.

END PART 12

Part 13 Monday, 3/11/13 (Hopefully, maybe Tuesday 3/12/13!)

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.

MOVIES YOU WILL SEE/The Journey of Natty Gann/Part 11

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

INT/EXT CAVE DAWN

It’s a spectacular dawn. The mountain colors are crisp and clear. The birds SING loudly. The sunlight glints off droplets of water left behind by the storm.

Natty rolls over in her sleep, a smile on her face. Her hands feel a warm, fluffy pillow under her head. Her eyes blink open. It’s The Wolf curled beside her.

She stares at him then reaches out timidly and strokes his head. He MOANS softly like a contented dog. She takes her still damp bandana and dabs gently at his already healing shoulder wound.

EXT WOODS DAY

Natty follows The Wolf through the woods. She scrambles to keep up with his fast, steady trot.

His powerful, rippling muscles lift him in one easy, graceful leap across a boulder. He waits at the top for Natty who struggles to inch her way step by step across the rock.

Before she gets to the top, he disappears into the trees.

        NATTY
Hey. . .Wait for me.

She grumbles a complaint as she scurries after him.

He leads them to a stream of clear, running water and they both drink.

Suddenly he stops dead still, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He sniffs the air. His muscles tense and coil with raw energy. His ever alert eyes track the distance.

Natty looks anxiously at The Wolf. He stares back at her then turns again to the distance. Natty crouches and moves forward, next to him. She peers through the underbrush.

She turns to The Wolf as she runs.

But there’s no wolf at her side. She stops and turns back, tracking the woods with her eyes. She can’t find him. He’s gone, without a trace, almost as if he never existed.

EXT FARM DAY

The farm is a rough hewn place with an old, log house, a few broken down outbuildings and irregular, pole fences. There’s a chicken coop and a sagging milk cow in a pasture out front. And a mule around back near the garden. An old Ford pickup truck is parked off to the side.

Natty slicks back her hair as she approaches the front door.

She licks her hand and wipes at the dirt on her face before she KNOCKS.

The door opens and a large farmer, AL, with huge hands and a hard, chiseled face peers out at her. Natty swallows the lump in her throat.

        NATTY
Morning. . .

She tries to smile but his stern expression makes it hard.

The farmer stares at her and then into the woods behind her.

        FARMER
What you want? You alone?

Natty looks behind her. But there’s still no sign of The Wolf. Disappointed, she turns back to the farmer whose stare seems to bore through her,

        NATTY
Yeah. I guess so…I’m lost.

The farmer’s wife, ROSIE, joins him in the doorway. She’s much softer and more open looking than her husband Al. As she moves from the doorway, Natty can see that she’s pregnant.

        ROSIE
Come on in.

Rosie ushers Natty inside. Al looks around suspiciously one last time before closing the door behind them.

INT FARMHOUSE DAY

Natty sits at the rough, wooden table in the sparse but somehow cheery kitchen. She gulps the food in front of her. Rosie watches compassionately.

        ROSIE
You must have been scared. All
alone out there.

        NATTY
I had a friend.

Al turns suspiciously and demands a response.

        AL
Who?

        NATTY
A wolf.

Rosie and Al exchange raised eyebrow looks of disbelief. Al shakes his head and crosses through the kitchen with a thick, bitter 1augh. He pushes through the screen door and lets it SLAM behind him.

END PART 11

Part 12 Monday, 2/17/13 (Hopefully, maybe Tuesday 2/18/13!)

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.

MOVIES YOU WILL SEE/The Journey of Natty Gann/Part 10

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

EXT ROCKY MOUNTAINS LATE DAY

A freight train, hauling several flatcars loaded with cement pipes emerges from a mountain tunnel, high up on the side of a hill, and RUMBLES its way down the tracks which tower over a fantastic white-water stream fed by a cascading waterfall.

EXT FLATCAR/ROCKY MOUNTAINS LATE DAY

Natty rides inside one of the enormous cement pipes strapped with others onto the backs of the flatcars RUMBLING down the tracks. Her legs dangle lazily over the edge, rocking back and forth with the gentle sway of the train.

She watches the spectacular Rocky Mountain scenery and takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with clean, fresh air. She lifts her face to the sun and smiles as it warms her cheeks. She’s never seen the sky so blue or the landscape so fantastic.

She’s awed by the peaceful wonder of it all.

She pulls her wallet from her pocket and takes out the picture of Sol and Amy. She stares at it dreamily.

Suddenly a horrible SCREECHING, GRINDING sound rips through the air.

There’s a violent lurching.

Natty is thrown back into the cement pipe like a ragdoll. The wallet FLIES from her hand.

The train BUCKS and SWAYS and TOPPLES from the tracks.

The flatcar SMASHES to its side and SLIDES across the ground. The cement pipes break from their straps and spill off the flatcar.

EXT WRECK SITE LATE DAY

Natty pul1s herself from the end of the cement pipe. She can hardly believe what she sees. Train cars are strewn across the ground, mostly lying on their sides.

TRAIN WORKERS pull themselves from the twisted steel. Steam and smoke rise to the sky.

There’s an EXPLOSION down the way. A liquid fuel car erupts in flame.

The workers run in a panic, SHOUTING to one another, warning each other to flee.

        RR WORKERS
She’s gonna blow. Look out.
Run for it.

There’s another EXPLOSI0N, closer this time. Too close. It’s too dangerous to stay. Natty jumps to the ground.

She starts to join the workers in a clearing near the front cars, but stops and sucks in her breath. She sees uniformed RAILROAD GUARDS down there.

They’re rounding up HOBO’S, pushing them roughly down the tracks.

She searches for another way to go. From the corner of her eye she sees The Wolf leap from a twisted boxcar and run for the woods. He disappears into the trees like an escaping fugitive.

She turns back to the clearing. One of the Guards moves down the tracks, heading straight toward her.

She looks again at the spot where The Wolf disappeared, and without any further hesitation, she takes off after him, running blindly, desperately into the woods.

EXT WOODS DUSK

Natty crashes through the underbrush running wildly. It seems like she’s been running for miles.

Finally she slows and stops, panting for breath.

The only sound is her own heart pounding in her chest, her lungs gasping for air.

She looks around her, turning slowly in a circle, trying to get her bearings.

She looks for the way back but she can’t find it. It all looks so much the same…so foreign…and frightening. Even the trees seem menacing, evil.

        NATTY
Where the hell am I?

A twig SNAPS and she jumps in fear.

She tries to calm herself but it’s hard when you know you’re lost and completely alone. She hunkers at the base of a large tree and wraps her arms tight around her knees, curling them to her chest. She rocks herself back and forth, back and forth.

Two yellow eyes peer through the shadows at her. She can feel their presence, but when she turns quickly to look for them, they’re gone.

The dusk turns to dark as night quickly falls.

EXT WOODS DAWN

Natty draws a grid on the ground, the points of the compass, and aligns East with the direction of the rising sun. Satisfied, she sets off at a determined walk to the West.

EXT WOODS DAY

Natty’s walk is much less determined now. Her feet drag. Her pace is slow.

She sees a berry bush and rushes to it excitedly. She falls to her knees and stuffs the berries into her mouth. Red juice slops over her chin.

Suddenly her contented smile disappears. She coughs and spits The half-eaten berries onto the ground, wiping her tongue on the back of her hand.

She pulls herself to her feet and keeps walking, even slower now.

EXT WATER HOLE DAY

Natty continues her slow trek west. She climbs a rock and searches the terrain. With a burst of enthusiasm she leaps from the rock and races forward. There’s water ahead.

She flops on her belly at the water’s edge. It’s mossy and brackish and slightly green but she drinks anyway in large gulps.

The water rolls off her chin and slides down her neck.

She notices tracks in the mud…huge paw prints, too large for a dog. She looks up, anxiously, fearfully, every muscle tensed.

The wolf towers over her, staring down from a rock on the far side of the water hole.

Part of a rabbit dangles from his mouth. He glares at her, his eyes locked with hers. He GROWLS.

A shiver runs down Natty’s spine.

The Wolf drops the rabbit on the rock, looks at Natty one more time and quickly disappears into the underbrush.

Cautiously Natty crosses the water hole and approaches the rock.

She looks into the underbrush where The wolf disappeared, but there’s no sign of him.

The bloody, half eaten carcass of a freshly killed rabbit lies on the rocks as if waiting for her.

She clenches her teeth, suppressing her nausea as she looks at it.

EXT WOODS DAY

Natty sits in front of a small fire, cooking the mauled rabbit carcass like a pig on a spit, her pocket knife beside her on a rock.

She holds a crumpled, empty box of matches in her hand, the same ones she used to light the cigarette with Frankie and Louie. She stares at the matches and remembers. It seems so long ago.

She pulls herself back to the present and pokes at the rabbit. She pulls it from the fire, takes a deep gulp and greedily starts to eat.

EXT WOODS DUSK

Natty walks toward the sinking sun.

Lightning CRACKLES and thunder BOOMS as storm clouds gather overhead.

The temperature drops and Natty pulls her jacket tighter. She walks faster.

There are cliffs ahead with overhanging rocks for protection.

The wind blows and HOWLS. There’s another bolt of lightning followed by another booming CLAP of thunder.

Natty starts to run.

The rain falls in torrential sheets and quickly drenches her. She can barely see through the thick, pounding rain.

She makes it to the cliff’s cave above. She slips on the wet rocks but catches herself and keeps going. Rain soaked blood runs down her hand from her scratched and torn fingertips.

INT CAVE DUSK

Natty pulls herself inside the cave and collapses on the rock floor, exhausted. She rolls on her back and lets her breath come evenly, cheered by the dryness in here, glad that she made it to shelter.

Then she hears it…that oddly familiar, LOW, GRUMBLING, GROWL. Her whole body tenses. Slowly she turns and searches the dimness of the cave.

She sees him near the far wall…The Wolf. He’s wet and bedraggled but stil1 threatening with his lips curled back in a menacing snarl.

She starts to inch toward the mouth of the cave but she’s too drained to face the raging storm again. She’s too exhausted to care what happens now, even if The Wolf is about to leap on her and tear her to shreds.

She pushes herself against the shadow of the wall and wraps her arms tight around her, tucking her head low her knees.

She tries to remain still, to blend in with the rocks, but her body flinches with waves of shivers and she shakes violently from head to toe.

END PART 10

Part 11 Monday, 1/28/12 (Hopefully, maybe Tuesday 1/29/12!)

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.

Part 9

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

EXT ROUNDHOUSE NIGHT

Natty can hear the crowd well before she reaches it. There are SHOUTS and SCREAMS above the overall DIN, like the noise of an angry crowd at a prizefight.

And mixed with the other noises are bone chilling GROWLS and SNARLS, like the sounds of wild dogs attacking each other in a fight to the death.

Natty stands on her tiptoes then bends to the ground, trying to see over the shoulders or through the legs of the NOISY, THICK CROWD 0F MEN in front of her.

But she can only see snatches, pieces…a dog’s lip curled back in a vicious snarl…a fierce, razor sharp fang…a pair of high, black boots and a long, leather whip that lashes out with a CRACK. Through another set of legs, she sees more pieces…claws ripping into fur…dark, thick blood spilling onto the ground.

Suddenly a fight breaks out in the crowd. The violence quickly erupts and spreads. . .fists SMASH into faces. . . bodies CRASH to the ground. Natty tries frantically to stay out of the way as the crowd surges back and forth.

One of the fighting animals, THE WOLF, breaks free. He leaps to a ledge high overhead and springs through the air, sailing over the crowd.

He lands almost on top of Natty. She GASPS in horror. He’s the most powerful, frightening creature she’s ever seen.

For an instant their eyes lock.

He glares at her with his ferocious, yellow eyes…eyes more wild and angry than anything Natty could imagine.


And then quickly he takes off again.

SNAKE, the evil looking man with the leather whip and the high, black boots, pushes through the crowd and chases after The Wolf. A handful of men follow Snake.

Natty scrambles to her feet and races after them.

INT ROUNDHOUSE NIGHT

Natty runs to the door of the roundhouse and pauses to catch her breath.

On the far side of this empty barn-like structure, Snake and his men have The Wolf cornered.

Snake strikes out with his whip, lashing The Wolf harder and harder, again and again and again. CRACK, CRACK, CRACK. The sound cuts into Natty like a knife.

The Wolf stares back at Snake with defiant, unbeaten eyes and a threatening SNARL. Then suddenly he takes off. He pushes through the men and streaks across the roundhouse.

He rushes to the door and disappears through it, brushing past Natty.

Snake and the others follow with angry SHOUTS. Their path takes them straight toward Natty.

Defiantly, she steps in their way and pulls the door closed, blocking their route, helping The Wolf escape.

She stares up at the evil Snake with a look of satisfaction…of right triumphing over wrong.

For an instant, Snake stares back at her, not moving. Then he lifts his arm in the air and swings it down. It lands with a THWACK against her cheek.

Natty falls to the ground. She tries to get up but can’t. Her body goes limp and her eyes close.

INT ROUNDHOUSE LATER THAT NIGHT

Natty blinks her eyes open. She rubs her hands over her temples. Her head throbs. She sits up slowly. It’s quiet in the Roundhouse now, empty. She drags herself to her feet and walks to the door.

EXT ROUNDHOUSE NIGHT

Natty stops at the doorway. There’s no sign now of the crowd in that was here earlier. The quiet seems strange, eerie.

She starts down the yard, toward the train cars waiting on the tracks.

EXT RAIL YARD NIGHT

Natty makes her way down the tracks, past the rows of waiting boxcars. The moonlight makes it almost like day, casting strange nightime shadows on the ground.

She stops outside the only car with a partially opened door and moves up to it quietly, cautiously.

INT BOXCAR NIGHT

Natty pulls herself into the boxcar and moves out of the shaft of moonlight, into the deep shadows of the corner.

She waits for her eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. It seems empty in here – except for her.

Then a quiet sound begins to fill the car. Natty listens fearfully. She feels her heart pounding rapidly.

The quiet sound builds in intensity until Natty finally recognizes it as the LOW, GRUMBLING, GROWL of The Wolf. She swallows hard, frightened.

Suddenly The Wolf LUNGES forward into the light, SNAPPING and SNARLING and baring his vicious fangs.

A startled, unconscious SCREAM escapes from Natty. She throws herself back into the corner and hugs the wall of the boxcar.

The Wolf glares at her. He’s poised like a spring, lips curled back, ready to strike if he has to, and to shred her to pieces with his massive, powerful jaws.

In the moonlight, Natty sees the wound in his shoulder. His matted fur is ripped back and his flesh is exposed. It’s raw, open. Blood oozes and drips down his leg. He must be weak from the loss of so much of it.

Slowly, step by step, her eyes never leaving The Wolf, Natty eases herself toward the door of the boxcar. The Wolf watches her threateningly, but allows her to inch away and slip outside.

The Wolf’s GROWL grows quieter and quieter and he almost disappears as he steps back into the shadows. Only his intense, yellow eyes are illuminated by a strip of moonlight filtering in through a crack in the wall.

Natty’s hand appears at the door of the boxcar, stretched high above her head. It shoves a tin of water and then a chunk of salami across the floor of the car, and then disappears.

EXT GAS STATION NIGHT

Sol stands at an outdoor pay phone at a back country gas station. There’s a large truck with canvass sides waiting at the pumps. It’s raining and Sol pulls up the collar of his jacket but the water still streams down his face. He looks anxiously at the truck and turns back to the phone, impatient but excited.

        SOL
Come on…Come on…Sally?
Is that you? I can hardly hear
you…Where’s Natty? Did she
get the letter?…What?…I
can’t hear. Talk louder.

Sol is practically shouting into the phone.

The horn BEEPS on the truck. The driver leans out and gestures angrily.

        DRIVER
Come on Gann. We’re waiting on you. Move it.

He BEEPS the horn again.

Sol signals the Driver to wait then turns all his attention back to the phone.

        SOL
She wouldn’t just run away
Sally. What the hell happened?!

Sol’s face grows ashen. His jaw bone grows taut. The muscles stand out on his neck. There’s an obvious fury building inside him.

        SOL
You’re lucky I’m not there
Sally. Because if I was I’d
tear you into little pieces and
personally feed you to the
river. …They damn well better
find her Sally. If they
don’t…Just make sure they do!


Sol slams the receiver down and stares furiously at the phone. The rain rolls down his face.

The horn BEEPS again and the truck starts to roll slowly out of the gas station.

Sol returns to the present and pulls himself together. He runs for the truck and a helping hand reaches out from the back and pulls him aboard.

END PART 9
Part 10 Monday, 1/21/12

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.

MOVIES YOU WILL SEE/The Journey of Natty Gann/Part 8

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

EXT MIDWEST FARM COUNTRY DAWN

The freight train out of Chicago RUMBLES down the tracks, past the broad, flat fields of corn and soybeans waving in the breeze.

The yellow beam of the freight’s headlight cuts a streak through the soft glow of the approaching day.

INT BOXCAR MORNING

A WHISTLE BLOWS several times.

Natty’s eyes blink open.

She looks around the boxcar. The three tough looking hobos are gone. There’s only Harry at the far end, playing a TUNE on his harmonica. She stares at him, listening to his song.

Finally Harry notices Natty’s stare and he stops playing, abruptly, as if caught in a wrongdoing.

Natty tries to smile at him but his look to her is hard.

        NATTY
That was nice.

Harry’s look softens. He shrugs modestly then bangs the harmonica on his knee and stuffs it deep in his pocket.

Natty looks around the car again, questions in her eyes.

        NATTY
Where’d they go?

        HARRY
Nowhere. Anywhere.

Natty nods, trying to act like she understands.

        NATTY
Where are you going?

Harry shrugs again, as if the question had such little meaning he hadn’t thought of it before.

        HARRY
West.

        NATTY
Me too. My Dad’s out West.

        HARRY
Yeah?

        HARRY
What part?

        NATTY
Uhhh…The middle.

Harry doesn’t express his doubt verbally but it’s all in his eyes. His next, question is more a statement of fact than anything.

        HARRY
You’re running away, huh? On
the lam?

Natty looks anxious. There’s a defensive edge in her voice.

        NATTY
What makes you say that? I
didn’t say that.

        HARRY
You didn’t have to.

Natty folds her arms over her chest and turns away.

        HARRY
You better wise up if you expect
to make it.

        NATTY
I’ll do alright, Mr. Know It
All.

Harry smiles to himself.

The WHISTLE BLOWS. The train begins to slow.

Harry walks to the edge of the boxcar and stares out through the open door. He talks to Natty without looking at her.

        HARRY
Don’t let the Bulls get you.

        NATTY
What!?

        HARRY
Railroad cops.

        NATTY
You think I don’t know that?

Natty gets to her feet and walks confidently up to Harry at the open door of the boxcar. She looks down at the fast moving ground below and her confidence falters. Harry senses it.

        HARRY
Bend your knees. Roll with it.

        NATTY (defensively)
Natch.

The WHISTLE BLOWS again.

Harry jumps. Natty takes a deep, anxious breath and follows. She hits the ground and rolls down the embankment end over end.

She gets to her feet and brushes the dust from her clothes. She turns to Harry with a broad smile, very proud of herself. But he’s not there.

She looks up and down the tracks. She bends to look under the slow moving train. But there’s no trace of him. Harry’s gone.

Natty’s face reflects her disappointment. She looks up and down the tracks wondering what to do now.

EXT BASE CAMP LATE DAY

Base Camp is an elaborate tent city high in the mountains of Washington State.

It’s crowded with MEN and machinery. Dirt roads crisscross the area and each tent has a sign on it…MESS HALL, MAIL ROOM, etc.

It feels like an army field camp.

INT TENT LATE DAY

Sol sits at a makeshift desk in a small, army-styled tent at Base Camp. There are several cots in here and tables with kerosene lamps.

Sol is deep in thought as he hunkers over a piece of paper, drafting a letter.

He puts down his pen and re-reads the letter, an anxious, troubled look in his eye.

Then he shrugs off his doubts, smiles and stuffs the letter in an envelop addressed to Natty Gann, St. Ritz Hotel, Madison Street, Chicago.

EXT DES MOINES DEPOT DUSK

Natty wanders the backside of the Des Moines train station, alone.

She rummages through the garbage behind the Depot Grill and finds the remains of a slightly moldy, half eaten salami.

She looks at it distastefully then closes her eyes and forces herself to take three quick bites, wrinkling her face and holding her nose as she chews. She swallows and shrugs. It’s not so bad once you get used to it.

She stuffs the rest of the salami in her pocket and turns toward the hobo fires just beginning to flicker in the darkening twilight of the rail yard ahead. She notices a CROWD gathering in the shadows of the Roundhouse.

END PART 8
Part 9 Monday, 1/14/12

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.

MOVIES YOU WILL SEE/The Journey of Natty Gann/Part 7

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

INT ST. RITZ HALL/NATTY’S ROOM NIGHT

Natty BANGS on the door of her room from the inside and YELLS through it as Sally stands on the outside, holding it closed with her fist, pulling against it with her weight.

Sally takes a key from her pocket and jams it into the lock.

NATTY (VO)
You can’t do this Sally. You
can’t. I’11 tell my Dad !

SALLY
When? When you going to tell
him, huh?

NATTY (VO)
Soon.

SALLY
Couldn’t be soon enough for me.

NATTY
Me either!


Sally locks the door, puts the key back in her pocket and moves away from Natty’s room, walking down the stairs, muttering to herself.

SALLY
I’m not the kid’s God damned mother.
I mean why the hell should I get stuck? Who needs
this aggravation?


INT NATTY’S ROOM NIGHT

Natty wiggles the locked door handle then listens through the door, the puppy watching her anxiously.

NATTY
Sally?…Sally!?


She listens again, even harder, then pulls her ear away from the door, takes a knife from her pocket and jams it into the lock, jiggling it up and down until she hears a click.

She quickly pulls the door open and sneaks into the hall, tiptoeing to the top of the stairs.

INT ST. RITZ LOBBY NIGHT

Natty crouches in the shadows, watching below as Sally, still muttering to herself, walks to the reception desk, grabs the telephone and dials a number.

SALLY
Hello? Child Relations Board?
I want to report an abandoned
kid. Yeah, yeah. All alone.
You better send somebody right
away.


Natty scurries quickly back down the hall and disappears inside her room.

EXT ALLEY NIGHT

A makeshift rope of tied together sheets and blankets flies down from the top window of a brick building and dangles above a narrow alley.

A small figure in a leather jacket and cap, Natty, climbs out the window and scales down the side of the building using the rope.

She leaps from end of the rope to the pavement, 6 feet below, and as soon as her feel touch ground, she takes off at dead run.

INT PUSH CART BARN NIGHT

Natty hurries into the dark barn and slides through the
shadows, her eyes drinking in the hovering, forbidding shapes of this very spooky place.

She knocks into a push broom which CLATTERS to the floor.

The NOISE disturbs bats in the rafters overhead and they swoop down with FLAPPING wings. Natty GASPS and ducks, covering the top of her head with her arms as the bats swish past.

Natty takes a deep breath and pushes forward. She finally makes it to Lefty’s cart.

She pulls the puppy from her jacket and scratches his ears as she lifts him to the top of the cart. He licks her face.

NATTY
You stay here.


She turns to go but the puppy leaps from the cart and starts to follow.

Natty picks him up and returns him to the cart. She takes the end of a rope tied to the wheel of the cart and loops it around the puppy’s neck.

She pets his head one last puppy BARKS and pulls on his rope. He wants to follow.

Natty turns back.

NATTY
I can’t take you. Understand?
You gotta stay with Lefty.


The puppy lies on the ground and rests his head on his front paws. His big, sad, brown eyes watch her as she moves across the barn. He WHINES a soft, mournful tone as she disappears.

EXT RAILROAD YARD NIGHT

Natty hovers in her hiding place of discarded boxes and barrels near the railroad tracks. She feels frightened and alone and very unsure.

It’s not cold but she shivers with anxiety, her eyes darting fearfully back and forth, tracking the darkness around her.

In the distance she hears a faint RUMBLING. She peers from her hiding place. There’s a train coming down the tracks. It’s moving slowly toward her, heading West.

From all around her, H0B0S, lean, tough looking men, emerge from nooks and crannies and get ready for the train.

She studies their techniques as they sprint forward, run beside the train and throw themselves into the open boxcars.

She wants to try it but shers scared. Lefty’s stories ring in her paralyzing her.

Finally she takes a deep gulp and makes a break for it.

She streaks from her hiding place, races for a boxcar and stretches with everything she has. She manages to catch a handle with her fingertips and to pull herself part way into the car.

The train moves faster, picking up speed.

Natty’s legs dangle dangerously over the edge.

The metal wheels grind mercilessly, menacingly on the tracks below. The ground rushes by. The sound of the wheels becomes a terrible ROAR in her ears.

She slips backwards.
She Looks desperately at the hobos inside, reaching out to then.

Three TOUGH, HARD LOOKING MEN stare back at her with uncaring eyes. None of them moves forward to help her.

She slips again, her fingernails clawing frantically across the wooden floor, scraping against the wood. She inches over the edge toward certain death.

INT BOXCAR NIGHT

A DARK FIGURE reaches down and grabs the falling Natty. In one move, she’s pulled into the boxcar and flung to the far side.

She lands with a BANG against the wall, gasping for breath. She stares up at her savior, HARRY SLADE; a lean, square jawed young man with deep, penetrating, electric blue eyes and a harder-than-nails exterior.

His face breaks into a wry, warm smile .

HARRY
You can get hurt that way.


She tries to answer, to thank him for saving her life, but she can barely speak. She can’t find her voice.

HARRY
But you didn’t.


Harry winks at her before moving to the far end of the car and hunkering in the shadows.

Natty stares at him. He’s a curious combination of power and vulnerability. He’s only 16 or 17 but like a young James Dean, already carries the edge of someone who’s spent years on the outside, a loner.

Natty turns to the other hobos. They stare back at her and their looks send a shiver down her spine.

HOBO 1
Thought you bought the farm.

HOBO 2
Wouldn’t have been much left.


They LAUGH and Natty’s eyes grow wide as saucers. She tries to swallow the lump in her throat.

Harry’s voice calls out from the shadows.

HARRY
Leave the kid alone.

HOBO 1
Shee-it. We was just funning.


Natty turns to Harry. For a moment their eyes lock. Then the train moves away from the lights of the Chicago yard and the car grows dark.

The NOISE from the train pounds in Natty’s ears . Her teeth slam against each other with each jostle of the boxcar. She pulls her jacket tight around her.
END PART 7

Part 7 Monday, 12/03/12

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.

Holiday Busyness

Hi,

OMG!!! Still so holiday busy. Will return with THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN on Monday, January  7th. Happy New Year!!!!

Best,

Heywood & Patricia

Holiday Busyness

Hi,

So holiday busy. Will return with THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN on Monday, December 17th. Happy Holidays to all.

Best,

Heywood & Patricia

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

Natty BANGS on the door of her room from the inside and YELLS through it as Sally stands on the outside, holding it closed with her fist, pulling against it with her weight. Sally takes a key from her pocket and jams it into the lock.

        NATTY (VO)
You can’t do this Sally.
You can’t. I’11 tell my Dad!

        SALLY
When? When you going to tell
him, huh?

        NATTY (VO)
Soon.

        SALLY
Couldn’t be soon enough for
me.

        NATTY
Me either!

Sally locks the door, puts the key back in her pocket and moves away from Natty’s room, walking down the stairs, muttering to herself.

        SALLY
I’m not the kid’s God damned
mother. I mean why the hell
should I get stuck? Who needs
this aggravation?

INT NATTY’S ROOM NIGHT

Natty wiggles the locked door handle then listens through the door, the puppy watching her anxiously.

        NATTY
Sally?…Sally!?

She listens again, even harder, then pulls her ear away from the door, takes a knife from her pocket and jams it into the lock, jiggling it up and down until she hears a CLICK.

She quickly pulls the door open and sneaks into the hall, tiptoeing to the top of the stairs.

INT ST. RITZ LOBBY NIGHT

Natty crouches in the shadows, watching below as Sally, still muttering to herself, walks to the reception desk, grabs the telephone and dials a number.

        SALLY
Hello? Child Relations Board?
I want to report an abandoned
kid. Yeah, yeah. All alone.
You better send somebody right
away.

Natty scurries quickly back down the hall and disappears inside her room.

EXT ALLEY NIGHT

A makeshift rope of tied together sheets and blankets flies down from the top window of a brick building and dangles above a narrow alley.

A small figure in a leather jacket and cap, Natty, climbs out the window and scales down the side of the building using the rope.

She leaps from end of the rope to the pavement, 6 feet below, and as soon as her feel touch ground, she takes off at dead run.

INT PUSH CART BARN NIGHT

Natty hurries into the dark barn and slides through the shadows, her eyes drinking in the hovering, forbidding shapes of this very spooky place.

She knocks into a push broom which CLATTERS to the floor.

The NOISE disturbs bats in the rafters overhead and they swoop down with FLAPPING wings. Natty GASPS and ducks, covering the top of her head with her arms as the bats swish past.

Natty takes a deep breath and pushes forward. She finally makes it to Lefty’s cart. She pulls the puppy from her jacket and scratches his ears as she lifts him to the top of the cart. He licks her face.

        NATTY
You stay here.

She turns to go but the puppy leaps from the cart and starts to follow.

Natty picks him up and returns him to the cart. She takes the end of a rope tied to the wheel of the cart and loops it around the puppy’s neck.

She pets his head one last puppy BARKS and pulls on his rope. He wants to follow. Natty turns back.

        NATTY
I can’t take you. Understand?
You gotta stay with Lefty.

The puppy lies on the ground and rests his head on his front paws. His big, sad, brown eyes watch her as she moves across the barn. He WHINES a soft, mournful tone as she disappears.

EXT RAILROAD YARD NIGHT

Natty hovers in her hiding place of discarded boxes and barrels near the railroad tracks. She feels frightened and alone and very unsure.

It’s not cold but she shivers with anxiety, her eyes darting fearfully back and forth, tracking the darkness around her.

In the distance she hears a faint RUMBLING. She peers from her hiding place. There’s a train coming down the tracks. It’s moving slowly toward her, heading West.

From all around her, H0B0S, lean, tough looking men, emerge from nooks and crannies and get ready for the train.

She studies their techniques as they sprint forward, run beside the train and throw themselves into the open boxcars.

She wants to try it but she’s scared. Lefty’s stories ring in her paralyzing her. Finally she takes a deep gulp and makes a break for it.

She streaks from her hiding place, races for a boxcar and stretches with everything she has. She manages to catch a handle with her fingertips and to pull herself part way into the car.

The train moves faster, picking up speed.

Natty’s legs dangle dangerously over the edge. The metal wheels grind mercilessly, menacingly on the tracks below. The ground rushes by. The sound of the wheels becomes a terrible ROAR in her ears.

She slips backwards. She looks desperately at the hobos inside, reaching out to then.

Three TOUGH, HARD LOOKING MEN stare back at her with uncaring eyes. None of them moves forward to help her.

She slips again, her fingernails clawing frantically across the wooden floor, scraping against the wood. She inches over the edge toward certain death.

INT BOXCAR NIGHT

A DARK FIGURE reaches down and grabs the falling Natty. In one move, she’s pulled into the boxcar and flung to the far side. She lands with a BANG against the wall, gasping for breath. She stares up at her savior, HARRY SLADE; a lean, square jawed young man with deep, penetrating, electric blue eyes and a harder-than-nails exterior.

His face breaks into a wry, warm smile .

        HARRY
You can get hurt that way.

She tries to answer, to thank him for saving her life, but she can barely speak. She can’t find her voice.

        HARRY
But you didn’t.

Harry winks at her before moving to the far end of the car and hunkering in the shadows.

Natty stares at him. He’s a curious combination of power and vulnerability. He’s only 16 or 17 but like a young James Dean, already carries the edge of someone who’s spent years on the outside, a loner.

Natty turns to the other hobos. They stare back at her and their looks send a shiver down her spine.

        HOBO 1
Thought you bought the farm.

        HOBO 2
Wouldn’t have been much left.

They LAUGH and Natty’s eyes grow wide as saucers. She tries to swallow the lump in her throat. Harry’s voice calls out from the shadows.

        HARRY
Leave the kid alone.

        HOBO 1
Shee-it. We was just funning.

Natty turns to Harry. For a moment their eyes lock. Then the train moves away from the lights of the Chicago yard and the car grows dark.

The NOISE from the train pounds in Natty’s ears . Her teeth slam against each other with each jostle of the boxcar. She pulls her jacket tight around her.

END PART 7

Part 8 Monday, 12/10/12

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.

Monthly Maintenance


Hi all,
We are updating our website today and will be back tomorrow with Part 7 of The Journey of Natty Gann.
Best,
Heywood and Patricia

MOVIES YOU WILL SEE/The Journey of Natty Gann/Part 6

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GANN
by
Jeanne Rosenberg

EXT TRAIN TRACKS DAY

Natty wanders alone along the railroad tracks, walking the rail, the puppy bouncing along behind her, The city skyline rising in the distance.

EXT St. RITZ DAY

Natty approaches the MAILMAN outside the st. Ritz, a glimmer of hope sparkling in her eye. He looks through the handful of letters he carries and shakes his head no.

Natty nods and manages a thin smile, trying to hide her disappointment behind a shrug.

EXT ROOFTOP DUSK

Natty perches on the edge of the roof, her feet dangling over the side, her eyes staring vacantly down at the world below.

INT SALLY’S APT. NIGHT

Sally weaves through her room wearing a feather boa around her neck and worn out bedroom slippers on her feet. There are old pictures from her chorus girl days hanging all over the walls.

She SINGS mournfully along with the RADIO…Ten Cents A Dance…I’m In The Mood For Love…doing her own imitation of a sultry, sexy, torch singer.

She catches sight of herself in the mirror, purses her lips in a pout, and blows herself a kiss.

A CREAKING NOISE on the stairs outside pulls her rudely from her fantasies.

She crosses through the room, obviously annoyed.

INT ST. RITZ LOBBY NIGHT

Sally glides across the lobby and takes up a position at the bottom of the stairs, glaring up at Natty, arms folded across her chest.

        SALLY
Where do you think you’re going?

        NATTY
Out.

        SALLY
At this hour?

        NATTY
Just for a walk.

        SALLY
Like hell. Upstairs. That’s
where you’re going Miss Smarty
Pants. Maybe he let you run
wild but not me. Understand?
It’s different with me.

Sally starts up the stairs toward Natty, pointing her thick finger toward the top.

        SALLY
Go on. Get moving.

        NATTY
You’re not the boss of me.

        SALLY
Bullcrackers! Now move it.

Sally starts menacingly upward and Natty quickly retreats, scurrying up the stairs. Sally watches her go then shuffles triumphantly back to her room.

EXT MAXWELL STREET/LEFTY’S CART DAY

A long-faced, despondent Natty sits on an overturned bucket next to Lefty, inside his crate. The puppy laps milk from a saucer on the ground between them.

        NATTY
You ever ride the rails, Lefty?

        LEFTY
What are you thinking about,
girl?

        NATTY
Nothing.

        LEFTY
Good. ’cause it’s hell out
there. I’ve seen fellas get
their legs chopped off under the
wheels. Just like that. And
Lord help you if you’re wearing
a pair of shoes some tough guy
takes a fancy to.

Lefty shoots her a probing glance, hoping hers scared some sense into her.

LEFTY
Now quit feeling so damn sorry
for yourself.

EXT FRANKIE’S STREET LATE DAY

A still despondent Natty turns down a dilapidated, semi-residential street, and walks down the block, lost in self pity. An angry CROWD gathering ahead grabs her attention and pulls her thoughts from herself.

She sees a Police Van parked next to the curb.

The crowd BOOS and HISSES as POLICE lead a WOMAN in a baggy, faded housedress out of a building. The woman is followed by her 5 CHILDREN. The youngest girl, a toddler, is carried by the oldest boy.

Natty sucks in her breath as she sees this boy.

        NATTY
Frankie!…

Frankie looks at Natty but turns away quickly, embarrassed.

Frankie’s mother watches tight-lipped as WORKMEN carry her family’s belongings down to the street and pile them roughly in a heap.

Frankie’s DAD follows the rest of the family out of the building. He can’t lift his eyes. He seems a broken, shriveled man.

The crowd grows angrier.

Someone throws a rock. It strikes a policeman. He retaliates with his nightstick.

More rocks sail through the air. And more nightsticks lash out.

The MOUNTED POLICE move in.

There’s a loud CLATTER as someone spills a load of marbles onto the street.

The police horses WHINNY and SCREAM as their hooves slide on marbles. They lose their balance and CRASH to the pavement.

Natty picks up a rock and takes aim at a policeman, caught up in the frenzied energy of this ugly, violent mob.

INT SALLY’S APT. DUSK

Sally sits at her kitchen table turning the pages of one of her many scrapbooks, gaudy jewels draped around her neck and overdone makeup slapped on her face.

She looks up from her old pictures, a doubtful frown replacing the sentimental smile on her face. She drains the glass of whiskey sitting on the table.

        SALLY
…What if he’s never going to
send for her? What if he’s
going to leave her here?…

She takes another swig of whiskey, straight from the bottle this time. Then she shakes her head and returns to her photos and her memories.

LOUD KNOCKS at the door make her jump with a start. She SHOUTS through the closed door.

        SALLY
I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold
your horses.

She quickly hides the whiskey bottle in the bread box then crosses to the door and pulls it abruptly open.

        SALLY
Yeah!?

Sally stares into the faces of 2 stern POLICEMEN who hold a sullen faced Natty sandwiched roughly between them.

        COP
You responsible for this kid,
lady? Because if you are, the
Judge’ll want to see you in the
morning.

        SALLY
Jesus H. Christ…

Sally rolls her eyes to the ceiling.

END PART 6

Part 7 Monday, 12/03/12

A script analysis of her favorite childhood novel – written as a USC class assignment – led Jeanne Rosenberg to her first Hollywood writing assignment on The Black Stallion. Switching from documentary filmmaker to narrative screenwriter, Jeanne studied her craft while working as a script supervisor on numerous films before completing her first original screenplay, The Journey of Natty Gann. She has been writing as well as producing and directing ever since. In addition, Jeanne has taught graduate screenwriting at USC and National University.