363. Wind Child - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. THE BUSINESS DISTRICT - DAY


• JERRY DICHTER makes his way through the press of bodies on the sidewalk, all racing along - a sea of suited bodies flowing in neat waves.


• Jerry is almost invisible in the crowd, his neatly tailored suit and handsome briefcase giving him distinguished anonymity.


• His face is a mask of professionalism - determined busyness.


• A spot of color appears in the crowd as MAKANI enters the flow, pushing opposite of the majority of the crowd - a colorful fish swimming upstream.


• She pushes past a group of business people and stops, face to face with Jerry.


• He stops, off-balance.


• Regaining his balance, he moves to get around her.


• She puts out her hand, in a slight, graceful movement halting him.


• MAKANI
• Are you listening?


• JERRY
• Are you crazy?


• He pushes past her, returning to the anonymity of the crowd, shaking his head.


• He puts his head down, checking his watch, his feet moving in measured, quick steps.


• He looks up and skids to a stop again.


• Makani is again in front of him.


• The wind ripples through her hair.


• MAKANI
• Are you listening?


• He attempts to ignore her and skirts around her.


• He walks faster, looking straight ahead as if locked into invisible blinders.


• He looks behind him and sighs with relief when he sees that she is not following him.


• Turning back, he lets out a sharp breath of surprise.


• She stands, hands behind her back, the breeze playing with the edge of her skirt as she smiles, cat-like, at him.


• The crowd flows around them, water rushing around a rock in a stream.


• She moves close to him.


• MAKANI
• Jerry, are you listening?


• He catches sight of her eyes and is transfixed by them.


• Her pupils are midnight black, surrounded by irises which flare and pulse with color, like miniature nebulae.


• He feels pulled closer in and for a moment sees tiny dots swirl in her pupils, like tiny planets orbiting a dark star.


• Jerry is lost, time slowing to a viscous flow.


• Makani blinks, looking away, suddenly shy, and Jerry snaps out of it.


• JERRY
• I'm listening.


• She leans closer, whispering.


• MAKANI
• Take your shoes off Jerry, this is holy ground.


• He looks at her for a moment, then reluctantly pulls his shoes off.


• He wears one bright orange sock and one striped blue and black sock, their colors joining hers in their flashy protest against the monochromatic mass around them.


• He stands, uncomfortable.


• She stretches her hand out again.


• MAKANI
• Close your eyes.


• He obeys, reluctantly.


• MAKANI
• When the wind calls, you will listen, you will follow its voice, and follow it to places you won't want to go, but you will serve, and through that service you'll find a deep joy.


• A powerful wind picks up out of nowhere and swirls around Jerry as he opens his eyes.


• His irises flare, now swirling with color.


• Makani smiles, turns, and is gone, lost in the ocean of black and gray.


• Jerry holds his shoes in one hand, the crowd pushing around him.


• His face is no longer locked into its former mask but has melted - a deeper emotion than he has ever felt filling his eyes and lips.


• The wind blows and he begins walking almost unaware that he is moving again, shoes still in hand.


• He realizes what has happened and lets out a loud laugh, then continues walking.


• FADE TO BLACK.