Detour: Jules & Anton

INT. BUS DEPOT – DAWN
Bobbing heads stretch for miles upon end. He tips his head just outside of the caterpillar like queue. Impatient, he pulls out a handkerchief, wipes his forehead. ANTON (32) was late and he was running out of time.
15 minutes later…
There’s momentum, an inch, maybe more; anything that can be allotted.
It was only her second week on the job. JULES’ (26) first out of college. Impending threats wade through the cesspool of passengers with each passing moment…
JULES
Hi,
(smiles)
boarding pass please.
He shoves the paper in her hand, advances toward the bus before she can glance at it.
JULES
Sir, could you just –
(steps in front of him)
step to the side for a minute.
ANTON
I’m sorry, I can’t.
(Evasive gaze)
I have to get onto this bus.
JULES
Sir, please.
She motions him to a corner beyond the group. Another officer takes her place.
JULES
May I see some identification?
She watches as he reaches for his pockets haphazardly, takes a step back slowly. He adjusts his behaviour, hands it to her slowly. She takes it, studies it carefully.
JULES
You’re not from here.
ANTON
I was on a business trip, had to leave early, an emergency.
JULES
What’s the emergency?
Beat.
JULES
Mr. Watson, when was the last time you slept?
ANTON
What?
JULES
– When was the last time you slept?
ANTON
I don’t know, Tuesday.
JULES
You’re eyes,
(pulls flash light from waist belt, shines it in his eyes)
they’re dilated.
ANTON
I
(shies away from light)
didn’t realize that suffering from insomnia was a crime.
JULES
It’s not, unless you’ve got other motives.
(Places flash light back in holder)
… You also smell, faintly like skunk.
ANTON
I haven’t showered in a few days, sue me.
He storms away, drops a little plastic bag in his wake. She picks it up, holds it high —  inspects it.
JULES
(Beckons)
If this is what I think it is…?
ANTON
– What do you think it is?
JULES
My job isn’t to speculate. It’s to assess the situation, conclude with facts.
ANTON
But if you had to guess – make a calculated assumption…
JULES
You’re high aren’t you?
ANTON
Congratulations, that was a calculated assumption!
JULES
I don’t think you realize just how serious this is.
ANTON
Are you’re gonna place me under arrest for what? Adding a little more substance to my personality?
JULES
This is a criminal offense.
ANTON
Don’t tell me, you’ve never done anything criminal in your life. [Squints at her, then leans in to read name badge] We all have our sins Jules, even you.
She remains placid. The bus departs. He moseys toward a lowly wooden bench nearby, sits.
ANTON
(Watches the bus disappear in the distance)
Shit.
(Stands, paces)
I robbed this guy once. Hit him from behind so he couldn’t see my face, then took his wallet.
(Holds up two fingers)
Two hundred dollars;
(slumps)
Best cash I ever scored. For days afterwards, I didn’t feel a thing. Then that voice chimed in; soft at first, then louder.
(Sits)
It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever done; doesn’t even come close. But God forbid you get that lucky stain.
(Lowers voice)
Can’t wash away the stains Jules, once they’re there, they don’t disappear.
She advances towards him.
JULES
I once, pointed a gun at my brother. He held a knife at me in his drunken state, wouldn’t put it down, so I shot him. [Rises, approaches him] There’s nothing worse than a feeling like that.
Jules pulls out her handcuffs, and straps it onto his wrists.
ANTON
Looks like your righteousness got the best of you.
They advance towards the security booth.
JULES
I don’t have a choice.
ANTON
– Or, do you choose not to?
They depart the depot together, his hands in hers.
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