[ bottom ]
FADE IN: TITLE CARD: The words "A house divided cannot stand: Abraham Lincoln" filter into view. INT. CARGO HOLD - THE WANDERER - DAY In a dank, diseased ridden storage level of a slave ship, hundreds of slaves huddle, tightly packed against one another. The dead lay upon the living. Slaves cringe at the heavy footsteps and banging from the deck above. Hardened voices are heard as the door to the above deck slowly creaks open. Chains being drug across the deck resound from beyond the opening. The door raises. The light of day temporarily blinds the tortured souls. Sea air rushes in, gasps for air rise in concert before fear grips the collection of slaves. What seems to be prayers from strange tongues can be heard mumbling throughout. EXT. MAIN DECK - THE WANDERER - DAY A bearded Irishman stands upon the deck staring into the hold. A group of ten men prepare a chain near by The Irishman. The words "Charleston, South Carolina 1857" fade into view. The Irishman's furrowed face is red and chapped from his time at sea. He wears a long woolen coat to warm his portly body. He yells into the cargo hold below. THE IRISHMAN Let's go, let's go, get up you godless pieces of shit! INT. CARGO HOLD - THE WANDERER - DAY The weary slaves closest to the door rise slowly and gently and make their way up the wooden steps. The rest of the level begins to rustle. The first slave reaches the top of the steps. Frightened, he is greeted by the devilish smile of The Irishman and quickly tossed into the group of men holding a 20 foot length of shackles and chain. A few of the men quickly restrain the slave and force him to stand correct. Next, two slaves carrying a corpse approach the top of the steps. Displeasure sinks into The Irishman and the men holding the chain. CHAINMAN ONE Ah shit! What in the hell are we supposed to do with that one? The Irishman calls a couple of men over to take the corpse from the slaves as two other men escort the living slaves to their place in line. CHAINMAN ONE (CONT'D) So, what do ya reckon? The Irishman nods toward the side of the ship. The chained slaves look on in horror. CHAINMAN ONE (CONT'D) This one better not be coming out of me share. The Irishman looks on as the two men approached the side of the ship. THE IRISHMAN If you don't shut your mouth you can bet I will. Chainman One and the fellow reach the side of the ship and without hesitation deposit the body over the side. Both men look overboard to watch the corpse splash into the sea. As the two men turn to walk back, The Irishman yells out. THE IRISHMAN (CONT'D) (proudly) Now that's the way you dispose of a dead pig! Chainman One and the other man walk back to their place in line. The Irishman pats Chainman One on the back as he passes by. Slaves continue to rise from the cargo hold. Dismay is abundant amongst the chained slaves in line. The Irishman walks to the side of the ship. He stares into the distance. THE IRISHMAN (CONT'D) It's going to be a good day... a good day. Pulling away from the Irishman and the ship, the first group of 20 slaves shuffles down a gangplank and onto the wharf where they are met by a large crowd of would-be slave owners.[ top ]
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.