Int. Access tunnel - night

Paul ever so carefully replaces the St. Christopher's medal

around Coffey's neck. They wheel him down the tunnel.

CUT TO:

INT. PAUL'S MODEL T - NIGHT

Paul drives home, his heart numb.

EXT. PAUL'S HOUSE - NIGHT

Paul pulls in, cuts the engine. He sits for a moment, then

gets out and heads for the house.

The door opens. Jan steps out in her nightgown and robe to

meet him on the stairs. She takes him in her arms.

Paul can't hold it back anymore. He breaks down sobbing

against her as we

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. NURSING HOME SUNROOM - PRESENT DAY

It's late in the day as:

PAUL

That was the last execution I ever

took part in. Just couldn't do it

anymore after that. Brutal either.

We both transferred out, took jobs

with Boys' Correctional.

(beat, nods)

That was all right. Catch 'em

young, that became my motto. Might

even have done some good.

ANGLE SHIFTS TO Elaine listening. Uncertain.

PAUL

You don't believe me.

ELAINE

I don't imagine you would lie to

me, Paul. It's just that...

PAUL

...It's quite a story.

ELAINE

Yes. Quite a story.

(pause)

One thing I don't understand. You

said you and Jan had a grownup son

in 1935. Is that right?

(Paul nods)

But if that's true...

PAUL

The math doesn't work, does it?

She shakes her head. Paul thinks for a moment, comes to a

decision.

PAUL

You feel up to a walk?

CUT TO:

EXT. GEORGIA PINES - DAY

The rain has mostly stopped. Brad Dolan, back in street

clothes, gets in his pickup truck and drives away...

INT. NURSING HOME - DAY

...while Paul and Elaine watch from a window.

EXT. GEORGIA PINES - DAY

This time, we see two red specks trudging slowly up the ridge

toward the treeline.

CUT TO:

EXT. WOODS - DAY

Paul brings Elaine along the wooded path into view of the

storage shacks. They're both wearing ponchos.

PAUL

There. It's in there.

ELAINE

Paul? This thing you want to show

me. Is it scary?

PAUL

Scary? No. Not really.

He gives her a smile, offers his hand. She takes it.

INT. SHACK - DAY

We see Paul approach through the grimy window as before, this

time bringing Elaine. ANGLE SHIFTS to the door as they

arrive, creaking open on rusty hinges to reveal them.

They enter. Elaine looks around at the musty nooks and

crannies, wondering what they're doing here. Paul touchers

arm, directs her attention:

PAUL

There.

Elaine moves closer, sees it on the dusty floorboards:

An old cigar box.

For a moment, she doesn't know what to make of it.

PAUL

Hey. Wake up, old boy. Wake up.

Elaine's breath catches in her throat...

...as a pair of bright oilspot eyes peer over the edge of the

cigar box. It's a mouse. His fur, once brown, is now all gray.

ELAINE

Paul? It isn't...it can't be...

Paul gets down on the floor, holds out his hand.

PAUL

Come over here, boy. Come on over

her and see this lady.

The mouse tries several times to get over the side of the

cigar box before he finally makes it. He comes to them,

hobbling and crippled with arthritis. Paul pulls a slice of

toast from his pocket, breaks off a small piece for the mouse.

ELAINE

That can't be Mr. Jingles.

Paul says nothing, just pulls a spool from his pocket. Mr.

Jingles might be old, but he's as obsessed as ever. He gets

ready to fetch, eyes riveted to the spool. Softly:

PAUL

Messieurs et mesdames. Beinvenue

au cirque du mousie.

Paul tosses the spool. The mouse limps painfully after it. He

reaches it, goes around...and has to lay down to catch his

breath. Elaine starts forward, but Paul holds her back.

After a moment, Mr. Jingles finds his feet again. He rises

and starts nosing the spool back to Paul.

ELAINE

Oh, Paul. Don't make him do it

again. I can't bear to watch.

PAUL

(softly)

But he loves it so much.

He glances around at the shack with a sad smile.

PAUL

This isn't exactly the Mouseville

we had in mind...but we make do,

don't we, old fella?