EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - NIGHT
A man jogs down a country road in the darkness. Snow falls around him. He is almost out of breath. He checks over his shoulder and then ducks quickly behind a row of bushes as a car goes by.
Shit. Did they see me?
The car moves on and he continues running, his tall, six foot figure huddled against the snow.
Where I was going, I had no idea.
Truthfully I hadn't put much thought
into it when I had decided to set out
on this so-called adventure, and that
(under his breath)
A man always has to have a plan. Some
kind of plan.
He wipes sweat from his forehead, breathing deeply. It looks as if his biceps are covered in a thin layer of sweat despite the cold.
Close-up of Damon loading a gun and grabbing his wallet off a table.
He stops running for a moment and leans against a tree, breathing heavily. He looks around and then ducks behind the tree as another car drives by. For a moment he doesn't move. His back presses into the tree, his head is back, and his eyes are closed. He breaths deeply.
Damon aims a gun and shouts incoherently. His hands shake and a man shouts obscenities back.
After a long pause, Damon continues to jog reluctantly. He jogs for another twenty yards and then stops dead in his tracks. He sees a small house with windows lit by small electric candles.
It was the first house. The next one
could be ten miles down the road. It
didn't seem like I had a choice unless,
of course, I wanted to freeze to death.
Damon looks up and down the road checking for cars, then walks up to the side of the house. He paces the length of the house, looking up at the windows and then back down the road. Then he reaches into his pocket and leaves his hand there.
A knife. How easy it was these days
to get your hands on a weapon. Too easy.
Just walk right into a store and take it.
Straightening up, he crosses the front yard and looks up at the front door. Licking his lips, he slowly climbs the steps, hanging onto the railing as he moves. Occasionally he looks back at the road. He stares at the wreath on the door for a moment, then knocks loudly.
Oh well, no one home.
He is about to turn and leave when the lock on the door clicks and the door opens.
Enter SOPHIE BRENTWORTH, the resident. She is relatively petite in comparison to him, with shoulder-length hair that shines. The look of content on her face immediately drops off when she sees him, a man in an undershirt and jeans, completely out of breath and shivering madly.
Oh my God! What happened to you?
Can I um…can I use your phone?
He scratches the back of his neck in uncertainty.
My…my car broke down about a mile from
here and I just need to call a tow truck.
My cell phone died.
Sophie stares at him for a moment in shock.
I expected her to say something like
"I'm sorry. I can't help you", because
who would trust someone who looked like
me banging on the door late at night?
Sophie opens the door wider and steps back.
Come on in. I'm baking Christmas cookies,
so just let me check on them.
INT. SOPHIE'S HOUSE
The living room is decorated with countless strings of Christmas lights, a large tree, and a crackling fire. Music plays softly. Damon stands still, staring in fascination.
Sophie walks past him into the kitchen. He follows her to the doorway. She peers into the oven, then straightens again.
So why did you say you were here again?
Oh, my car broke down.
I was being cautious of what I said. One
wrong word and I would probably be forced
to do something I didn't want to do.
There is a very long pause.
I hiked about a mile or so. Tore my
jacket off because I got too hot along
Did you want me to call Triple A?
But isn't it Christmas Eve? It would take
forever for someone to get all the way
Oh, that is a problem.
Um...maybe...maybe I should just go back
to my car and try to fix it.
He starts toward the front door.
Wait! It's freezing out there. Why don't
you just stay a while?
Damon rubs the side of his chin.
She had just offered me a place to stay,
probably for the whole night. I couldn't
turn that down when it was freezing out-
side and I had nowhere else to go.
Well...if you don't mind.
I don't mind!
She laughs and smiles warmly.
I'd love to have someone around on
Christmas Eve. It'll be great.
Sophie turns toward the oven again and pulls out a sheet of Christmas cookies. She places them on the stove.
Why was this girl being so damn nice to me?
I couldn't understand it. And she had this
beautiful house. Where was her family?
You can have as many as you want.
She wipes her hands on a cloth and smiles at him.
Thanks. Thanks a lot.
Go ahead and sit down. Help yourself.
He slowly sits down at the table. She places a plate piled with cookies in front of him. Damon eats three quickly as she pours a glass of milk and hands that to him.
Sorry. I haven't eaten all day.
It's okay. I have plenty already, and I'm
Damon continues chewing loudly.
The food she had given me was delicious.
I had no idea why she was being so nice to
me, but I had a feeling she wouldn't be this
way if she really knew who I was.
END ACT I