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105 EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- DAWN (1954) 105
The sun rises over gray stone.
106 INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- DAWN (1954) 106
ANGLE ON RITA POSTER. Sexy as ever. The rising sun sends
fingers of rosy light creeping across her face.
107 INT -- LIBRARY -- DAWN (1954) 107
Brooks stands on a chair, poised at the bars of a window, cradling
Jake in his hands.
BROOKS
I can't take care of you no more. You go on now. You're free.
He tosses Jake through the bars. The crow flaps away.
108 EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- MAIN GATE -- DAY (1954) 108
TWO SHORT SIREN BLASTS herald the opening of the gate. It
swings hugely open, revealing Brooks standing in his cheap suit,
carrying a cheap bag, wearing a cheap hat.
Brooks walks out, tears streaming down his face. He looks back.
Red, Andy, and others stand at the inner fence, seeing him off.
The massive gate closes, wiping them from view.
109 INT -- BUS -- DAY (1954) 109
Brooks is riding the bus, clutching the seat before him, gripped
by terror of speed and motion.
BROOKS (V.O.)
Dear Fellas. I can't believe how fast things move on the outside.
110 EXT -- STREET -- PORTLAND, MAINE -- DAY (1954) 110
Brooks looks like a kid trying to cross the street without his
parents. People and traffic a blur.
BROOKS (V.O.)
I saw an automobile once when I was young. Now they're everywhere.
111 EXT -- BREWSTER HOTEL -- DAY (1954) 111
Brooks comes trudging up the sidewalk. He glances up as a prop-driven
airliner streaks in low overhead.
BROOKS (V.O.)
The world went and got itself in a big damn hurry.
He arrives at the Brewster. It ain't much to look at.
112 INT -- BREWSTER HOTEL -- DAY (1954) 112
A WOMAN leads Brooks up the stairs toward the top floor. He
has trouble climbing so many stairs.
WOMAN
No music in your room after eight p.m. No guests after nine. No
cooking except on the hotplate...
BROOKS (V.O.)
People even talk faster. And louder.
113 INT -- BROOKS' ROOM -- DAY (1954) 113
Brooks enters. The room is small, old, dingy. Heavy wooden beams
cross the ceiling. An arched window affords a view of Congress
Street. Traffic noise drifts in. Brooks sets his bag down. He
doesn't quite know what to do. He just stands there, like a man
waiting for a bus.
BROOKS (V.O.)
The parole board got me into this halfway house called the Brewster,
and a job bagging groceries at the Foodway...
114 INT -- FOODWAY MARKET -- DAY (1954) 114
Loud. Jangling with PEOPLE and NOISE. Brooks is bagging groceries.
Registers are humming, kids are shrieking.
WOMAN
Make sure he double-bags. Last time your man didn't double-bag
and the bottom near came out.
MANAGER
You double-bag like the lady says, understand?
BROOKS
Yes sir, double-bag, surely will.
BROOKS (V.O.)
It's hard work. I try to keep up, but my hands hurt most of the
time.
I don't think the store manager likes me very much.
115 EXT -- PARK -- DAY (1954) 115
Brooks sits alone on a bench, feeding pigeons.
BROOKS (V.O.)
Sometimes after work I go to the park and feed the birds. I keep
thinking Jake might show up and say hello, but he never does.
I hope
wherever he is, he's doing okay and making new friends.
116 INT -- BROOKS' ROOM -- NIGHT (1954) 116
Dark. Traffic outside. Brooks wakes up. Disoriented. Afraid.
Somewhere in the night, a LOUD ARGUMENT is taking place.
BROOKS (V.O.)
I have trouble sleeping at night. The bed is too big. I have bad
dreams, like I'm falling. I wake up scared. Sometimes it takes
me a
while to remember where I am.
117 INT -- FOODWAY -- DAY (1954) 117
BROOKS (V.O.)
Maybe I should get me a gun and rob the Foodway, so they'd send
me home. I could shoot the manager while I was at it, sort of
like a bonus.
118 INT -- BROOKS' ROOM -- DAY (1954) 118
Brooks is packing his worldly possessions into the carry bag.
Undershirts, socks, etc.
BROOKS (V.O.)
But I guess I'm too old for that sort of nonsense anymore.
119 INT -- BROOKS' ROOM -- SHORTLY LATER (1954) 119
Brooks is dressed in his suit. He finishes knotting his tie,
puts his hat on his head. The letter lies on the desk, stamps
and ready for mailing. His bag is by the door.
BROOKS (V.O.)
I don't like it here. I'm tired of being afraid all the time.
I've decided not to stay.
He takes one last look around. Only one thing left to do. He
steps to a wooden chair in the center of the room, pulls out s
pocketknife, and glances up at the ceiling beam.
He steps up onto the chair. It wobbles queasily. Now facing the
beam, he carves a message into the wood: "Brooks Hatlen was
here." He smiles with a sort of inner peace.
BROOKS (V.O.)
I doubt they'll kick up any fuss. Not for an old crook like me.
120 TIGHT ON CHAIR 120
His weight shifts on the wobbly chair -- and it goes out from
under him. His feet remain where they are, kicking feebly in mid-air.
His hat falls to the floor.
ANGLE WIDENS. Brooks has hanged himself. He swings gently,
facing the open window. Traffic noise floats up from below.
121 EXT -- EXERCISE YARD -- SHAWSHANK -- DAY (1954) 121
Andy reads the letter to Red and the others:
ANDY
P.S. Tell Heywood I'm sorry I put a knife to his throat. No hard
feelings.
A long silence. Andy folds the letter, puts it away. Softly:
RED
He should'a died in here, goddamn it.
122 INT -- PRISON LIBRARY -- DAY (1954) 122
Andy is sorting books on the cart. He replaces a stack on the
shelf -- and pauses, noticing a line of ants crawling up the wood.
He glances up. The ants disappear over the top. He pulls a chair
over and stands on it, peers cautiously over.
ANDY
Red!
Red steps in with an armload of files. Andy gingerly reaches
in, grabs a black feathered wing, and pulls out a dead crow.
RED
(softly)
Is that Jake?
123 INT -- WOOD SHOP -- DAY (1954) 123
Red is making something at his bench, sanding and planing.
RED (V.O.)
It never would have occurred to us, if not for Andy. It was his
idea.
We all agreed it was the right thing to do...
124 EXT -- FIELDS -- DAY (1954) 124
Low hilly terrain all around. A HUNDRED CONS are at work in the
fields. GUARDS patrol with carbines, keeping a sharp eye. We find
Andy, Red, and the boys working with picks and shovels. They lance
over to the pickup truck. Hadley's chewing the fat with Mert and
Youngblood. A WHISTLE BLOWS.
GUARD
Water break! Five minutes!
The work stops. Cons head for the pickup truck, where water is
dispensed with dipper and pail. Red and the boys look to Andy.
Andy nods. Now's the time. The group moves off through the
confusion, using it as cover. They head up the slope of a nearby
hill and quickly decide on a suitable spot. The guards haven't
noticed.
Jigger and Floyd start swinging picks into the soft earth, quickly
ripping out a hole. Red reaches into his jacket and pulls out
a beautiful wooden box, carefully stained and varnished. He shows
it around to nods of approval.
ANDY
That's real pretty, Red. Nice work.
HEYWOOD
Shovel man in. Watch the dirt.
124 CONTINUED 124
Heywood jumps in and starts spading out the hole.
125 BY THE TRUCK 125
Youngblood glances up and sees the men on the slope.
YOUNGBLOOD
What the fuck.
HADLZY
(follows his gaze)
HEY.' YOU MEN UP THERE.' GET YOUR ASSES OFF THAT SLOPE!
(works his rifle bolt)
YOU HAPPY ASSHOLES GONE DEAF? YOU GOT FIVE SECONDS 'FORE I SHOOT
SOMEBODY!
Suddenly, other cons start breaking away in groups, dozens of
them heading toward the slope. The guards look around.
HADLEY
What am I, talkin' to myself?
126 ON THE SLOPE 126
Andy pulls a towel-wrapped bundle from his jacket and unfolds
it. Jake. Andy lays him in the box, followed by Brook's letter.
Red places the casket in the hole. A moment of silence. Andy gives
Red with an encouraging nod.
RED
Lord. Brooks was a sinner. Jake was just a crow. Neither was much
to look at. Both got institutionalized. See what you can do for
'em. Amen.
Muttered "amens" all around. The boys shovel dirt onto
the small grave and tamp it down.
127 INT -- SHAWSHANK CORRIDORS -- DAY (1955) 127
RAPID DOLLY with Hadley. He's striding, pissed-off, a man on
e
mission. He straight-arms a door and emerges onto --
128 EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON WALL -- DAY (1955) 128
-- the wall overlooking the exercise yard. He leans on the railing,
scans the yard, sees Andy chatting with Red.
HADLEY
Dufresne! What the fuck did you do?
(Andy looks up)
Your ass, warden's office, now!
Andy shoots a worried look at Red, then heads off.
129 INT -- GUARD DESK/WARDEN'S OUTER OFFICE -- DAY (1955) 129
Dozens of parcel boxes litter the floor. WILEY, the duty guard,
picks through them. Hadley enters, trailed by Andy.
ANDY
What is all this?
HADLEY
You tell me, fuck-stick! They're addressed to you, every damn
one!
Wiley thrusts an envelope at Andy. Andy just stares at it.
WILEY
Well, take it.
Andy takes the envelope, pulls out a letter, reads:
ANDY
"Dear Mr. Dufresne. In response to your repeated inquiries,
the State
Senate has allocated the enclosed funds for your library project..."
(stunned, examines check)
This is two hundred dollars.
Wiley grins. Hadley glares at him. The grin vanishes.
ANDY
"In addition, the Library District has generously responded
with a
charitable donation of used books and sundries. We trust this
will
fill your needs. We now consider the matter closed. Please stop
sending us letters. Yours truly, the State Comptroller's Office."
Andy gazes around at the boxes. The riches of the world lay at
his feet. His eyes mist with emotion at the sight.
HADLEY
I want all this cleared out before the warden gets back, I shit
you not.
Hadley exits. Andy touches the boxes like a love-struck man touching
a beautiful woman. Wiley grins.
WILEY
Good for you, Andy.
ANDY
Only took six years.
(beat)
From now on, I send two letters a week instead of one.
WILEY
(laughs, shakes his head)
I believe you're crazy enough. You better get this stuff downstairs
like the Captain said. I'm gonna go pinch a loaf. When I get back,
this
is all gone, right?
Andy nods. Wiley disappears into the toilet, Jughead Comix in
hand. Alone now, Andy starts going through the boxes like a
starving man exploring packages of food. He doesn't know where
to turn first. He gets giddy, ripping boxes open and pulling
out books, touching them, smelling them.
He rips open another box. This one contains an old phonograph
player, industrial gray and green, the words "Portland Public
School District" stenciled on the side. The box also contains
stacks and stacks of used record albums.
Andy reverently slips a stack from the box and starts flipping
through them. Used Nat King Coles, Bing Crosbys, etc.
He comes across a certain album -- Mozart's "Le Nozze de
Figaro." He pulls it from the stack, gazing upon it as a
man
transfixed. It is a thing of beauty. It is the Grail.
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