THE VERY WORST THING THAT COULD POSSIBLY HAPPEN, PART 6

EXT. PARIS STREET, 1959 - CONTINUOUS

Picking up from where we left off in the previous episode. A secret knock on a door. The little window in the door slides open.

CLAIRE

Say it.

SARA

(timidly)

The future enters into us?

KATE

‘And transform itself inside of us...’

SARA

‘...Long before it comes to pass.’

The steel door opens. 

KATE (V.O.)

Kate reporting. Mom and Sara are at the club, but I’m pretty sure they’re being followed. Please advise.

Theme Music. Titles:

ANNOUNCER

The Very Worst Thing That Could Possibly Happen, Part 6.

INT. SECRET SEX CLUB, PARIS 1959 - CONTINUOUS

Claire and Sara walk down an echoey corridor, come to another door, open it, and enter the club, smoke and Jazz music. Claire orders two glasses of wine at the bar.

CLAIRE

Vin rouge, s’il vous plait. Deux.

BARTENDER

(from distance)

Oui!

SARA

It... smells different?

CLAIRE

The rooms change all the time. Its interesting, I think.

SARA

What do you mean?

CLAIRE

Come to the hallway, I’ll show you.

They walk to the other side of the room, the crowd and music fade into the background. SFX of an ocean, and wind fade up.

CLAIRE

(Whispering)

Ahhh. Does this look familiar? They’ve made up the room to be a first love, on a summer vacation in the south. Smell the wind?

SARA

Yes! And the ocean.

SARA VO

The room was bathed in a dim golden light, like sunset. Three or four couples were laying on blankets and pillows, whispering to each other and touching each other softly. I saw a beach umbrella, black and white stripes, exactly the one that I stared up at when I lost my virginity. All those feelings came rushing back to me, and I squeezed Claire’s hand, missing that time and the smell of the ocean, and that clumsy boy from town, Girard. Oof, what clown. But he made me laugh, and he had the softest lips. So I let him. It was simple.

CLAIRE

And this one, too, come look!

They take a few more steps down the hall. The music changes to french rock and roll.

SARA

(coughs)

So much cigarette smoke!

CLAIRE

I think this is university! Look its like a college party.

SARA VO

This time it was clear. I remembered the night, and I had remembered it hundreds of times. The room looked like a regular dorm room, small and cramped with one tiny window. It was my second year at University, my friend and I had gone to a party. Everyone was drunk and this band played, oh they were not good. Later, when I wanted to leave, I knew my friend had snuck off with some literature student- he said he was studying Rilke, actually- so I went to find them. When I got near the room upstairs, I could hear them fucking, so I opened the door slowly and peaked in, like a spy. She had the literature student and also the guitar player from the crappy band up there! And they were both fucking her! She was on her knees on the bed, with Rilke in front, and the guitar player behind her. I couldn’t believe it- I mean, she was that kind of person, outgoing, a flirt... so much braver than me. I wanted to join them, to have them to do that to me, but, no way... I couldn’t.  

CLAIRE

Remember?

SARA

This is for me?

CLAIRE

Of course its for you.

A kiss.

SARA

But how?

CLAIRE

Because the future enters into us.

Another kiss.

CLAIRE

Now go. This time, you go.

SARA VO

I took a a few steps forward, so slowly. Rilke stood up and came to me, and took my hand. All in one motion he kissed me and undressed me and put me on the bed. Briefly I saw Claire’s silhouette in the doorway before I felt so good I had to close my eyes. I was on my back, and Rilke kneeled by my head. The guitar player pushed into me as I tasted Rilke for the first time. The girl, the stand in for my friend, she kissed my cheek and we shared Rilke and kissed each other as the guitar player started moving faster, holding my thighs apart and pushing. Then she reached her hand between my legs and touched me, until all of me was filled, and I came and saw stars, and felt heat on my stomach and my breasts as both the boys came. 

Sound of them coming, and laughing, and kissing.

SARA VO

I own this moment. Its mine. I can share it with you, Raul, or keep it secret. I can hold it in my memory and relish it, and love it, and love myself. There is no tax on this joy, no part of it that I owe to anyone. 

CLAIRE

(quietly)

Here, my sweet. Let me clean you off.

SARA

Oh. That was...

CLAIRE

Good?

SARA

Amazing.

A kiss.

CLAIRE

Let’s go.

SARA

There’s more?

CLAIRE

One more.

INT. TRAIN TO KAZAKHSTAN, 1997 - NIGHT

SFX of a train as it squeaks and squeals along with its steady chug. Snake and Vincent are drunk.

SNAKE

One more!!!

VINCENT

Let’s do it! One for you, Mr Ming... and one for me!! Whoops.

He spilled.

RAUL

You guys are wasted.

VINCENT

Its like 20 more hours to Kazakhstan, buddy. What else are we going to do?

RAUL

Its your liver, Vinnie.

SNAKE

You’re not exactly the picture of health over there, scarecrow. What you weigh these days, 140? 145 at the most.

RAUL

Last time I checked I was 138.

VINCENT

Fuck. I think I have some peanuts in my bag, you want some peanuts?

RAUL

Mr Wu?! Mr Wu you in there? Are you guys sure he’s ok? He hasn’t moved since we got on the train.

SNAKE

He’s fine.

VINCENT

He’s fine.

RAUL

If you say so, man, but its been two days--

THUD! The train rattles a little bit.

RAUL

What was that?

SNAKE

A cow. Sometimes they fall asleep on the tracks.

RAUL

Gross. 

SNAKE

Yeah, that’s what those triangular things on the front of trains are for-- they’re cow scoops.

VINCENT

Cow scoops!!

SNAKE

Gotta scoop ‘em out of the way!

VINCENT

Scoooop scoooop!

Vincent does a train whistle sound.

RAUL

I’m going to get some air.

EXT. TRAIN TO KAZAKHSTAN, 1997 - CONTINUOUS

Cabin door slides open, we walk out with Raul in the corridor, down to the end of the car. The outside door opens and the wind and train sounds get louder as he stands between the cars. Raul lights a cigarette.

Then he hears a COUGH and a GASP. Its a GOLDFISH. The goldfish has an Australian accent, btw.

RAUL VO

Sara, I was standing on the platform between the train cars when I heard him. I don’t know how I could, over the wind and the giant steam engine of the train, but I looked down, and there he was. A little goldfish. Flapping around and coughing. He was inches from the side of the steel plate I was standing on, just about to fall and get squashed by the wheels of the train.

RAUL

Whoa buddy, I got you. Man, that was close.

GOLDFISH

Water!

RAUL

What?

GOLDFISH

Water!! Need... Water!!

RAUL

Where’s your tank?

GOLDFISH

Next... car!!

Raul clanks through the door into the next car. He knocks on the first cabin door. We hear DRUNKEN LAUGHTER. TWO TRAVELERS are killing time, just like Vinnie and Raul. Traveler #1 is a Vinnie- a Korean guy who’s riding shotgun with the fish. Traveller #2 is an American woman.

TRAVELER #1

...So then the Zulu lady, she picks up the fucking chainsaw--

RAUL

Anyone in here missing a goldfish?

TRAVELER #2

Oh shit! Did you drop Pierre?

GOLDFISH

(gasping)

Yes you fucking idiot!

TRAVELER #2

Here, his tank’s right here.

PLOP as Pierre goes back in his tank.

TRAVELER #1

Shit, Bernard, so sorry about that!

GOLDFISH

Its literally your ONLY JOB. Make sure I don’t die. That’s it.

TRAVELER #1

And look after Madame over here.

GOLDFISH

Ok her too, but she’s just a lump of meat, so... not exactly secret service level protection, is what I’m fucking saying.

TRAVELER #1

I said I’m sorry.

TRAVELER #2

Yeah, Bernard, he said he’s sorry. Calm down.

GOLDFISH

You guys are wasted.

The clink of a bottle and glasses.

GOLDFISH

Thanks, man. Really appreciate the heads up, good looking out.

RAUL

Sure thing. Where you headed?

GOLDFISH

Same place you are.

RAUL

Almaty?

GOLDFISH

No, no. The middle. We’re headed to the middle.

RAUL

So not Kazakhstan.

GOLDFISH

No, thats YOUR middle. Our middle is a little north of there. Town called Omsk.

RAUL

Huh.

GOLDFISH

Shitburg. There’s like, nothing there. You’re lucky.

RAUL

I am?

GOLDFISH

Yeah, Almaty is great! Silk Road, so much history. Plus, since the fall of USSR, the dictators have really been pouring money into that town.  Oh, but by the time you get there, I think it’s still under Moscow. But yeah, very regal.

TRAVELER #1

You want a drink? We owe you a drink for saving Bernard.

TRAVELER #2

Yeah, we have Soju!

RAUL

You guys were in Korea?

TRAVELER #2

(finishes a shot)

Mm hmm! Yeah, I went there to work for Samsung. It was so fun. They like LOVE Americans there. I was like a total rock star. And I’m not that tall, but I felt like SO TALL. It was the best. Where were you?

RAUL

Hong Kong.

TRAVELER #1

Here you go.

A glass clinks.

TRAVELER #2

So same deal.

RAUL

I guess. I didn’t really notice.

(For the drink)

Thanks.

TRAVELER #2

Bottoms up.

TRAVELER #1

Geonbae!

TRAVELER #2

Whewww. Still hate that stuff. It’s like wheat flavored cough syrup.

His tone changes a little bit. Serious. Quieter.

TRAVELER #2

You look skinny. How much weight did you lose?

RAUL

35 pounds.

TRAVELER #2

That’s not so bad. I lost 54. 54 fucking pounds! Back in college, I was like the drinking champion at my sorority!!! Now I take one shot and I’m wasted.

RAUL

Who, uh, who were you writing letters to?

TRAVELER #2

This guy in Sweden. Pajala. Ever heard of it?

RAUL

No.

TRAVELER #2

That’s because its in the middle of NOWHERE. Like way up north on the border with Finland. Reindeer and shit.

RAUL

Huh.

TRAVELER #1

Wait, wait, I never finished my story about the Zulu lady with the chainsaw!

TRAVELER #2

Oh shit! Thats right! Ok, ok, where were we--

RAUL

I’m going to head out. Thanks for the drink.

TRAVELER #1

Cool.

TRAVELER #2

See you around!

GOLDFISH

Thanks, buddy. Say hi to Ming for me.

RAUL

Yeah. Yeah, sure, you got it.

Raul exits to the train corridor.

RAUL VO

So there’s two drunk people, a talking goldfish, and a Korean woman who’s passed out on the bunk. Its a mirror image of me, Vinnie, Ming and Mr Wu. I look into the next cabin, the curtain is drawn but I can still peek in. A fox is drinking schnapps from a metal bowl. Couple of Germans are wasted, including a big strong looking woman. They’re singing an old drinking song: My Hat It Has Three Corners. 

You hear them singing the drinking song in the background. Each round you leave out a word, and if you fuck up, you drink. We can do this with a looping crew.

GERMANS AND FOX

My ____ it has three corners, three corners has my ____, if it doesn’t have three corners, then it is not my _____!!!

But someone says HAT and everyone yells at him that he has to drink.

GERMANS AND FOX

Drink, Fritz, you clown!! Its so simple!! How can you not do it??!!

RAUL VO

Germans are always a little too honest with their criticism for my taste. Soften the blow, buddy. 

The Germans fade out.

RAUL VO

The next cabin was a big tropical looking parrot and some Vietnamese people, with a passed out Buddhist monk lying on the bunk. The one after that was 2 Indian women, a big fat guinea pig, and a dilapidated looking Sikh guy drooling on himself in the corner. They didn’t even try to get him the bunk. 

Beat. Raul walks back to the space between the cars, where the wind is loud and the air is fresh.

RAUL VO

So that’s where I am, Sara. On a train full mistakes that need to be fixed, heading towards some place called the middle. I think that’s where I get to meet you. I hope so. Otherwise, I’m just... I don’t know. Are you a Rilke fan? I don’t know much of his work, honestly, I read a few things back in college when I was trying to date some German girl... total waste of time. Anyway, Rilke was in love with this older woman, for years, you know, this amazing woman named Lou Andreas-Salomé. She hung out with Nietzsche and Freud. And they would write letters to each other, I guess kind of like us? In one of them- fuck I remember this so clearly - he said: what should a man do who has so little grasp of life that he must just let it happen to him, and who learns that his own volition is always something less than some other great will, in whose current he sometimes gets caught up in, like an object on a receding tide?

Beat.

RAUL VO

What should a man do, Sara? Can he do nothing? Is that a workable approach? 

The door opens.

VINCENT

There you are, bud! Gotta a smoke? 

RAUL

Sure.

VINCENT

Thanks. 

A lighter flicks. Its hard because its windy.

VINCENT

Fuck. 

(Exhales)

Man its nice out. Look at those stars.

RAUL

Yeah. Beautiful huh?

VINCENT

I’m not much an outdoor type, but this is pretty sweet. 

There’s a HUGE BOOM, like a wet bag of cement hitting an empty steel coal car.

RAUL

What the fuck!!!

INT. SECRET SEX CLUB, PARIS 1959 - NIGHT

The SFX of the train crossfade into the sounds of the nightclub in Paris.

SARA

Is that Trotsky?

CLAIRE

Who?

SARA

Hey, Trotsky? Trotsky! What are you doing here.

TROTSKY

Oh hello! How are you?...

SARA

Sara. 

TROTSKY

(a bit embarrassed)

Yes, Sara. Nice to see you.

SARA

I’m good, thanks. This is my friend, Claire.

TROTSKY

(To claire)

Enchanter, Claire.

CLAIRE

(whispering, hungry)

So they call you Trotsky, now?

Claire slaps his ass and just starts making out with him.

SARA

Claire! Goodness.

CLAIRE

What? Look at him! He’s delicious.

SARA

So you know each other? Why am I not surprised.

TROTSKY

We... how would you put it?

CLAIRE

I’d say we’re both rooks, but I’m white, and he’s black. But we play together some times.

TROTSKY

You’re not white, Claire...

She kisses him again.

SARA

Ok alors.

TROTSKY

Sara, what are you doing here? I have to say, I’m surprised by you...again.

SARA

I’m mailing a letter.

TROTSKY

Pardon?

CLAIRE

Everyone has secrets here, Trotsky. That’s what this place is for.

TROTSKY

You didn’t bring your dad, I see.

SARA

Not exactly his kind of place.

TROTSKY

Mmm. Its a bit progressive, if not communist.

SARA

There IS a lot of communing going on. Is it yours?

TROTSKY

Excuse me?

SARA

Is it your kind of place?

TROTSKY

Oh I’m working. This is research.

CLAIRE

Ha. Is that what they call it now? 

TROTSKY

No I’m serious!

CLAIRE

What are you researching?

TROTSKY

For my PhD. Sexual taboos as an arm of state control.

SARA

Is that why you fucked me? To rebel against the state?

TROTSKY

Well, I if I’m honest I had a couple of motives. But rebellion was definitely one of them. The owner of that restaurant is an complete asshole.

CLAIRE

Sara, do you have the letter?

SARA

Yes.

CLAIRE

Trotsky, be a sweetheart and get us a canister for the pneumatic tubes? They have them at the bar. Meanwhile, we have a few things on our checklist.

They start to walk away.

TROTSKY

Of course. Happy to help in any way I can.

SARA

Nice to see you!

Giggling.

CLAIRE

He’s so hot!

SARA

I know.

CLAIRE

You fucked him?!

SARA

In the bathroom of a restaurant at lunch time!

Their conversation fades out, overwhelmed by the SFX of ocean waves and seagulls.

CLAIRE

Do you remember this?

SARA

I’m not sure.

CLAIRE

It might not be your memory, it might be Raul’s.

SARA

He and I are sharing memories now?

CLAIRE

We all share memories, Sara. But your brains, they’re so... entwined. 

SARA

Do you know Charles Babbage?

CLAIRE

Hmm. I don’t think he came up in the brief.

SARA

The brief?

CLAIRE

The dossier. For this mission.

We move into the room with ocean sounds and seagulls.

SARA VO

I took her hand and brought her into the room. There was dune grass and sand on the floor, and a beach blanket laid out. On the far wall a static sunset permanently flickered on a calm sea. We laid down on the blanket.

SARA

Claire, look at me. I don’t know why you tell me one thing, then tell me something else. I don’t know why I think you’re a guide one minute and a liar and a spy the next--

CLAIRE

I will never hurt you--

SARA

You will be the end of me. Or at least the end of a version of me. The one I am now, this Sara, she’s almost gone.

CLAIRE

She is. Its true.

SARA

But listen to me! You can’t kill me. You can not. Listen:

Sara takes a note book from her purse.

CLAIRE

What’s that?

SARA

I wrote this down, it seemed... important. I wanted you to know it, too.

She recites a passage from Charles Babbage. We need to get Trotsky, Hans, Raul (in Spanish) and Ai (in Chinese) to recite this as well, so we can create a big weird audio montage. MUSIC is a cover of “the Ghost in You” by Psychedelic Furs.

SARA VO

So I recited: What a strange chaos is this wide atmosphere we breathe! Every atom, impressed with good and with ill, retains at once the motions which philosophers and sages have imparted to it, mixed and combined in ten thousand ways with all that is worthless and base. The air itself is one vast library, on whose pages are forever written all that man has ever said or woman whispered. There in their mutable but unerring characters, mixed with the earliest as well as with the latest sighs of mortality, stand forever recorded, vows unredeemed, promises unfulfilled, perpetuating in the united movements of each particle, the testimony of man’s changeful will.

SARA

(in the room, intermingling with the VO)

What a strange chaos is this wide atmosphere we breathe! Every atom, impressed with good and with ill, retains at once the motions which philosophers and sages have imparted to it, mixed and combined in ten thousand ways with all that is worthless and base. The air itself is one vast library, on whose pages are forever written all that man has ever said or woman whispered. There in their mutable but unerring characters, mixed with the earliest as well as with the latest sighs of mortality, stand forever recorded, vows unredeemed, promises unfulfilled, perpetuating in the united movements of each particle, the testimony of man’s changeful will.

The sounds of kissing.

CLAIRE

One last time.

SARA

Then I’ll be asleep?

CLAIRE

And dreaming.

They’re breathing gets louder, faster. Music comes in, quiet and rolling in waves.

SARA

This isn’t my memory. I never made love near the beach. I think I’d like it.

CLAIRE

Close your eyes. Can’t you hear the waves? We’re there.

SARA

Where?

CLAIRE

Its a beach in Necochea, the coast of Argentina. And its 1987.

SARA

No. How? Its not possible.

CLAIRE

Yes. Its 1987 and Raul is 14. He has a crush the neighbor’s daughter, but she’s 16, and she’s been teasing him all summer.

SARA

Girls are mean.

CLAIRE

So mean! Especially when we were young, right?

SARA

Its born into us. But some of us out grow it. I did.

CLAIRE

Yes you did. This girl, she did not. She teased Raul all summer, letting her bikini slip when was  staring at her on the beach, eyeing him at the pool as climbed up the ladder to the diving board. And she was beautiful: dark eyes and black hair and golden skin. And her tits! Her tits were amazing. Like yours.

Claire touches Sara, and Sara reacts.

CLAIRE

At the end of the summer, when all their friends had gone, this girl, she could finally see Raul, because she didn’t need to impress anyone, now, and she was bored and alone. They take a walk on the beach. They lie down in the dune grass. And she takes his hand... and puts... it...here.

Claire groans.

CLAIRE

And they don’t go all the way: they grind against each other, trying to break through, trying so hard to feel what its like to be inside someone else... 

Sara moans. Clothes rustle.

CLAIRE

Like this. I have to put myself against you.

SARA

(groans again)

Like that?

CLAIRE

Yes. Oh fuck. 

SARA

(whispers, panting)

I don’t love you, Claire. I can’t.

CLAIRE

That’s not the point. Just fuck me.

They almost stop.

SARA

But, tell me - honestly- don’t you love me?

CLAIRE

Sara, no. Please don’t. Don’t ask.

SARA

Maybe?

They start fucking again as Claire evades:

CLAIRE

I don’t want to love you. I. Just. Need. You. To. Fucking. Come.

SARA

Fuck. Bite me. Bite my neck. HARDER!

The music swells as they fuck, and they come, in the dunes on a beach that never was.

Music fades out.

TROTSKY

(from a distance)

Are you guys ready now?

CLAIRE

(still breathing hard)

Ah. Come on, Sara, we have to go.

SARA

What? Where?

CLAIRE

The letter, remember? Get dressed.

SARA

Yes, its in my purse.

CLAIRE

Trotsky, you have a canister?

TROTSKY

Right here.

CLAIRE

Well give it- you can come in, we’re not shy!

TROTSKY

Here.

CLAIRE

Put the letter in the canister, Sara.

SARA

Ok.

She does, and closes the clasps.

CLAIRE

Come on- you remember the access tube, yeah? At the end of the hallway?

SARA

Yes, to the left, no?

Footsteps in a hallway, music playing in the far background.

CLAIRE

Here. This one. 

She opens a cover on the pneumatic tube with a FWOOSH.

SARA

And he’ll get this?

CLAIRE

If everything’s working.

TROTSKY

Everything’s working. They have a mail drop in about... 20 minutes.

SARA

Well, ok. Hello, Raul. Talk to you soon.

PHOOOOOMPH.

TROTSKY

We have to hurry. The cab’s waiting.

SARA

To go where? Why won’t you guys tell me what the fuck is happening??

CLAIRE

I did! I told you we had to put you to sleep, mail a letter, and then go on a trip. So let’s go, we don’t want to miss the plane.

SARA

And I’m asleep now?! I’m not asleep.

CLAIRE

You are. Now come one, we have to go.

SARA

Claire- what about my clothes? My passport?

TROTSKY

I have a bag in the car for you.

SARA

Did you go in my apartment?!

TROTSKY

Well...

SARA

This is insane! I thought you guys were on different sides?? I can’t just leave Paris, I have a job!!...

CLAIRE

Sara! We are fixing a problem. A problem that you KNOW exists. And has ALWAYS existed. And its been crushing you from the inside since the day you could speak. So stop trying to act like you need more information to make a decision!! You don’t! You know EXACTLY what I’m talking about, and you always have.

TROTSKY

Ai, we have to go.

CLAIRE

Ok. Come on.

They start walking out of the club.

SARA

Who’s Ai?

CLAIRE

I am. That’s my other name.

SARA

Your real name.

CLAIRE

No. Not really.

They leave the club and get into the taxi.

EXT. PARIS STREET, 1959 - MOMENTS LATER

The cab is waiting. Car doors open.

CAB DRIVER

There you are. Airport?

CLAIRE

Yes.

TROTSKY

(from the window)

I’ll meet you there, the van’s parked around the corner.

CLAIRE

(quietly, so Sara doesn’t hear)

You have our friend in there?

TROTSKY

Of course.

CLAIRE

Good.

They drive off. Trotsky walks to a phone booth.

TROTSKY

Red Hand 5403. Yes, I’ll hold...

HANS

Go ahead.

TROTSKY

The mission’s changed. The candle is lit. We have to go to plan B.

HANS

Shit. Fine. I’ll telephone the embassy. We’ll have a team in place when you arrive.

TROTSKY

Copy that.

HANS

You’re traveling with them?

TROTSKY

Yes, sir.

HANS

Good. That gives us an edge.

TROTSKY

Sir, I’m concerned about the tactics. We don’t want to harm the target, correct?

HANS

Don’t get soft on me now, or you’ll wind up like the real Trotsky: dead in a ditch.

TROTSKY

I won’t sir.

HANS

You fucking better not.

The receiver is put back in the cradle.

INT. TRAIN TO KAZAKHSTAN, 1997 - NIGHT

We’re back on the steel platform between cars with Vinnie and Raul.

There’s a HUGE BOOM, like a wet bag of cement hitting an empty steel coal car.

RAUL

What the fuck!!!

VINCENT

We’re fine! Its ok!! Its fine, man. Its just the mail.

RAUL

What?!

VINCENT

Yeah, yeah - they hang the mail in these giant bags, and when the train goes by they put out this boom with a hook on it to catch it.

RAUL

Scared the shit out of me.

VINCENT

Right? Its pretty old school-- been doing that since the 1800’s. Let’s go back inside, maybe you have a letter.

RAUL

No seriously, my heart can’t take it, Vinnie.

VINCENT

Just sit down for a sec. There you go. You’ll be ok.

RAUL

I don’t fucking think so, Vinnie. Look at me- I’m a sack of bones, man! My pants don’t fit, I get tired walking a block. What... what’s happening to me?

VINCENT

Don’t worry. There’s a plan. I mean I think there’s a plan- they don’t tell me shit. Its pretty fucking aggravating to be honest. I mean, I have a BA from North Western.

RAUL

But- do I survive this?

VINCENT

Like I said, they don’t tell me dick. But I hope so- you’re a good dude. So, yeah, I hope so.

RAUL

Fuck.

VINCENT

Yeah. Fuck.

RAUL

Is Sara on her way to Kazakhstan too?

VINCENT

That’s what I hear.

RAUL

I wonder what her trip is like.

EXT. CHARLES DE GAULLE AIRPORT, 1959 - NIGHT

Claire, Sara, and Trotsky walk up the metal stairs onto an airplane. CHARLIE (the stewardess, mid 20’s, European accent, any ethnicity) greets them.

CHARLIE

Champagne? Champagne?

CLAIRE

(flirty of course)

That would be lovely, thank you.

CHARLIE

(so friendly)

Tickets, please?

TROTSKY

Here, I have them.

CHARLIE

Thank you. You’re in seats 7A, 7B, and 7C.

TROTSKY

And our baggage?

CHARLIE

Oh they’re loading that now sir. Don’t worry, they’re very careful!

TROTSKY

Great, thank you.

CHARLIE

Welcome aboard!

INT. PLANE TO ISTANBUL, 1959 - CONTINUOUS

They walk into the plane. Swing jazz plays on crap speakers, as people settle into their seats. Then Charlie comes by.

CHARLIE

Champagne? Champagne?

SARA

Why are we leaving so late at night? Is that normal?

CHARLIE

Oh yes! Its much more convenient this way. We’ll get to Istanbul in the afternoon, and you’ll be rested and ready to explore!

SARA

Istanbul?

TROTSKY

We’re connecting to Almaty- its a quick layover.

CHARLIE

Oh that’s exciting! I don’t there often. Only Aeroflot flies that route. My Russian is good, but my Kazhak is a little rough!

CLAIRE

Tell me...

CHARLIE

Charlie.

CLAIRE

Tell me, Charlie, what languages do you speak?

CHARLIE

Oh the usual- French, of course, English, German, Spanish, Korean, Italian, Portuguese, oh and Catalan.

SARA

That’s amazing! I’m so jealous.

CLAIRE

Has anyone ever told you that knowing lots of different languages is sexy?

SARA

Claire!

CHARLIE

Of course it is! Everyone knows that. Ciao.

She keeps passing the drinks.

CHARLIE

Champagne? Champagne?

SARA VO

Dear Raul, as I sat on the plane with Trotsky and Claire, I felt three things, all quite distinct and clear from each other. I felt nervous that I would just disappear from my job and my family- they would have no idea where I was. It seemed quite inconsiderate and unlike me, they would be worried. But then I felt free, sipping a glass of champagne, going somewhere I’d never been before- like the world had pulled back its curtains and the show was finally about to begin! And then I felt something else: I looked out the window at the night sky and the flashing lights, and I could see they were loading something long and heavy into the plane. It was a coffin. Is death a part of this, Raul? Am I flying straight into oblivion?