SHORT STORY: DUST Script

          EXT. DUSTY ROAD IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE - DAY

          A sleek, black car is pulled off to the side of the road.
          It's a classic. The drivers door is open and the hazard
          lights are blinking. An OLD MAN is sitting slumped in the
          drivers seat. His back is to us.

          Day turns to night and back again. The man hasn't moved.
          This road is almost never traveled on.

          The distant RUMBLE of a car approaches.

          The car pulls up and MARK, a young man in his twenties, gets
          out of his car.

          Mark begins to make his way to the drivers side door,
          expecting the worst.

          The Old Man's eyes are shut. He doesn't seem to be
          breathing. There are cigarette butts and whiskey bottles
          littered around him in the car. A small, ornate box sits on
          the passenger seat next to him.

          Mark goes to touch the old man but can't quite bring himself
          to do it. He paces back and forth, running his hands through
          his hair as he debates on what to do.

          At last, Mark pulls out his cell phone and begins searching
          for a signal.

                              OLD MAN
                    You can put that down. I'm not
                    dead.

          The Old Man's voice is dry and gruff.

          Mark stumbles in shock and drops his phone.

                              MARK
                    You're alive?

                              OLD MAN
                    So far today? Yes.

                              MARK
                    Well, anything wrong? Run out of
                    gas or something?

                              OLD MAN
                    Oh no,

          The Old Man starts the car.

                              OLD MAN (CONT.)
                    This car hasn't given me any
                    problems for a long time.

          He shuts the car off.

                              OLD MAN (CONT.)
                    Nope.

                              MARK
                    So what are you doing all the way
                    out here?

                              OLD MAN
                         (abruptly)
                    Waiting.

          Mark looks up and down the road, surveying the landscape and
          the emptiness that surrounds them.

                              MARK
                    For what?

          The Old Man squints his eyes against the glare of the sun as
          he appraises Mark.

                              OLD MAN
                    For you, I think.

          Mark shuffles awkwardly as the Old Man continues to stare at
          him with hungry eyes.

                              MARK
                    Look, if you need directions...

                              OLD MAN
                    Son, you could blindfold me, spin
                    me in circles and plop me down in a
                    cow pasture and I'd be able to tell
                    you in which direction Paris,
                    France is.

                              MARK
                    Right. Okay. Well I'll be going
                    then.

                              OLD MAN
                    I didn't say you could leave!

          Mark waves the Old Man off and keeps walking back to his
          car.

          Mark tries to start his car but it won't.

                              MARK
                    Come on...Come on...Come on!

          After several more tries he climbs out and goes back to the
          Old Man.

                              OLD MAN (CONT.)
                    I told you, you couldn't leave.

                              MARK
                    First of all, you're not what's
                    keeping me from leaving. Second, my
                    car craps out on me all the time.

          The Old Man nods, though looking more sarcastic than
          believing.

                              OLD MAN
                    Are you familiar with the story of
                    Aladdin and the genie?

                              MARK
                    What? We're in the middle of
                    nowhere and you're asking-

                              OLD MAN
                    Humor me, Mark. I'm old and my mind
                    tends to jump around a bit.

          Mark kicks at the dusty road and takes a few steps away from
          the man and his car.

                              OLD MAN
                    You want a ride to the next town
                    with a good mechanic don't you?

          Mark slumps and draws a deep breath before returning to the
          car.

                              OLD MAN (CONT.)
                    That's more like it. Now where were
                    we?

                              MARK
                    You were about to take me into
                    town.

          The Old Man makes a dry throaty snicker and settles back
          into his chair.

                              OLD MAN
                    You're funny. Sit down. don't mind
                    the mess.

          The Old Man gestures to the passenger seat and Mark walks
          around the car to get in. He picks up the ornate box off the
          chair and sets it on the dash before sitting down. The Old
          Man does not start the car.

                              MARK
                    Well?

                              OLD MAN
                    Well what? I asked you a question
                    and I expect an answer.

                              MARK
                    You're serious?

                              OLD MAN
                    Mark, I've never been known for my
                    sense of humor. Probably because I
                    don't have one...Yes, I'm serious.
                    Aladdin and the genie?

          Mark bobs his head against the headrest of the chair, unable
          to believe the situation he's in.

                              MARK
                    I answer your questions, then you
                    drive me to the next town?

                              OLD MAN
                    That is our arrangement.

                              MARK
                    Aladdin finds a lamp, he rubs it,
                    the genie comes out and grants him
                    three wishes.

                              OLD MAN
                    Do you recall what he wished for?

                              MARK
                         (without thinking)
                    No.

                              OLD MAN
                    Try and remember.

          Mark thinks, and as he does he casts his eyes around the
          car, taking in his surroundings.

          The cigarettes and whiskey bottles aren't the only thing
          littering the inside of the otherwise nice car. Crumpled
          newspapers, financial folders and stock reports cover the
          majority of the floor.

          As Mark continues to look around, his eyes rest on the
          ornate box. It appears to be hand crafted. There's a small
          latch keeping it shut.

          Marks can't take his eyes off the box and the intricate
          designs etched into the wooden surface.

          At last the Old Man clears his throat and calls Mark out of
          his revelry.

                              MARK
                    Gold?

          The Old Man smiles at Mark like he were a child.

                              OLD MAN
                    Not quite. He wished for riches,
                    power, and everything else a man
                    could ask for. In essence, he
                    wished for good karma.

                              MARK
                    He even got the girl.

                              OLD MAN
                    And everything was grand until...

          Mark takes another moment to think.

                              MARK
                    Until the lamp was stolen.

                              OLD MAN
                    And all that good Karma he'd
                    borrowed had to be balanced out.

                              MARK
                    He still ended up okay in the
                    story, though.

                              OLD MAN
                    That's because it's a story. In
                    real life when debts like that come
                    up, they tend to kill you.

                              MARK
                    Well thank goodness there's no such
                    thing as genies and magic lamps.
                    Can we get going now?

          The Old Man wipes his brow again and looks out towards the
          sun.

                              OLD MAN
                    Hand me that box there.

          Mark grabs the ornate box and hands it to the Old Man.

          The Old Man runs his fingers across some of the designs and
          then flips the latch and opens the box. Mark can't see
          what's inside due to the angle.

                              OLD MAN (CONT.)
                    The contents of this box have the
                    power to sway good karma in your
                    favor. All you have to do is ask.

          Mark sits motionless as the Old Man offers him the box.
          Inside is a pile of dust.

                              MARK
                    How long have you been out here?

                              OLD MAN
                    Did you ever have a pair of lucky
                    socks or something when you were
                    young? Or know someone who was just
                    naturally lucky?

          The Old Man is still holding up the box for Mark to take.
          Almost Pleading with Mark to take it.

          Mark Nods.

                              OLD MAN (CONT.)
                    Luck's like a flip of a coin. Some
                    things can weight that coin in your
                    favor and a few people know how to
                    flip it so it's heads every time.
                    But luck isn't the same as Karma.
                    Luck doesn't care how much good and
                    bad you get.

                              MARK
                         (skeptical)
                    Karma cares?

                              OLD MAN
                   
                    Karma's all about balance, my young
                    friend. You do good you get good.
                    You do bad you get bad. But this,

          The Old Man gestures with the box of dust again.

                              OLD MAN (CONT.)
                    This dust has the power to weight
                    good karma in your favor...all you
                    have to do is ask.

          The dust seems to be calling out to Mark as he feels it's
          pull on him and he continues to stare at it.

                              MARK
                         (still skeptical)
                    Just like that you'll share your
                    magic lamp with me?

                              OLD MAN
                    No, the dust cannot be shared. The
                    only way it can change hands is if
                    it's stolen by or given to someone
                    who knows what it really is. And
                    I'm giving it to you.

                              MARK
                    What about all that karma must be
                    balanced stuff?

          The Old Man shrugs.

                              OLD MAN
                    Before me, JFK had the dust. He got
                    it from Marilyn Monroe who got it
                    from some other guy who stole it
                    from Hitler. Before that I'm not
                    sure, though I think Rasputin had
                    it before the Romanov's stole it
                    from him.

          BEAT.

                              MARK
                    All of those people died horrible
                    deaths.

          The Old Man nods contemplatively.

                              OLD MAN
                    They certainly did.

                              MARK
                    So this dust gives you a great life
                    until you give it away or someone
                    steals it from you.

                              OLD MAN
                    If you overuse it, the price will
                    be quite high. If you're like me
                    and only use it a little here and
                    there...

          The Old Mn shuts the box and hands it to Mark, who runs his
          hands over the carved surface.

          The two men sit quietly, both looking at the box of dust.
          The Old Man coughs.

                              MARK
                    So why give it up? Why not hold
                    onto it until you die? Or better
                    yet, why not chuck the thing into
                    the ocean and forget about it?

                              OLD MAN
                    Go ahead and try to outlive your
                    time with the dust. try to throw it
                    into the ocean or into a volcano
                    even. It won't work. The dust won't
                    let you get rid of it unless you're
                    giving it away to someone who knows
                    what they're getting.

                              MARK
                    So why take the risk?

                              OLD MAN
                    I've often wondered that myself
                    over the years. Every time you feel
                    the dust being used in your life,
                    knowing you'll have to pay for it
                    later...But in the mean time you'll
                    be having one heck of a ride.

          Mark holds the box out for the Old Man to take.

                              MARK
                    Yeah, well, that's one ride I don't
                    think I want to ride.

          The Old Man gives Mark a pained smile. He doesn't take the
          box. Mark offers it again and the Old Man refuses.

          It dawns on Mark that he is the new owner of the dust.

                              MARK (CONT.)
                         (afraid)
                    What do I do?

          The Old Man pats Mark on the shoulder.

                              OLD MAN
                    Whatever you want. Live the life
                    you've always dreamed of living, or
                    continue on in the life you have
                    now. The dust won't do anything for
                    you unless you let it...but it will
                    always be asking to be used, just
                    like the genie.

          The Old Man stretches in his seat. He coughs again, this
          time sounding more serious.

                              OLD MAN (CONT.)
                    Well, shall we?

          The Old Man closes his door and tries to start the engine.
          The car sputters and dies.

          BEAT.

                                                            BLACK


                                                              *     *     *
This is script I'm working on for a short film I'll be shooting early next year. What do you think? Have you ever had anything that was Lucky?