Gunsmoke – Season 23
Episode 708: Resurrection
Matt Dillon – U.S. Marshal
Kitty Russell Dillon – part-owner of the Long Branch Saloon
Festus Haggen – Deputy U.S. Marshal
Doc Adams –
Newly O’Brien –
Quint Asper –
Bobby Dillon – son of Matt and Kitty
Beth Ann Dillon – daughter of Matt and Kitty
Emily Dillon – daughter of Matt and Kitty
Tramp – Dillon Family dog
EXTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT (DAY): A WOODED AREA. MATT AND BOBBY ARE WALKING CAREFULLY AMONG THE TREES, BOTH CARRYING HUNTING RIFLES. MATT HAS A SACK SLUNG OVER HIS LEFT SHOULDER. WE SEE SOMETHING THAT LOOKS LIKE FUR PEEKING OUT OF THE TOP, AS IF THEY HAVE ALREADY BEEN SUCCESSFUL IN THEIR HUNTING. AS THEY WALK, WE SEE MATT LIMPING ON HIS RIGHT LEG, GRIMACING SLIGHTLY.
BOBBY: (glancing over at his father) You okay, Daddy?
MATT: (almost startled, as if he hadn’t realized his discomfort was obvious) Oh, sure. I’m fine.
BOBBY: Your leg hurtin’?
MATT: (He opens his mouth to deny it, but decides to be relatively honest.) Maybe a little.
BOBBY: That from tangling with Dan Miller yesterday?
MATT: I expect it is.
BOBBY: He sure was causin’ a ruckus, wasn’t he?
MATT: Well, I guess he was, Bobby, but Mister Miller’s not a bad man. He just had too much to drink. (raises a brow) That’s a dangerous thing. Can change a man.
BOBBY: (understanding his father’s point) Yes, sir.
MATT: (smiling down at his son) All right. Let’s see about getting some more rabbits for that stew your mama’s going to make tonight.
BOBBY: Yes, sir! (looks around) Tramp? Where d’ya s’pose he got off to?
MATT: Oh, I imagine he’s around. Probably chasing himself a squirrel.
BOBBY: (grins) One of these days he’s gonna catch one.
MATT: (smiling back) He might at that.
BOBBY: Bet he’d be more surprised than the squirrel.
MATT: (laughs) I bet so.
BOBBY: (cuts his eyes sideways at Matt as if he is unsure about what he’s going to say next) Daddy?
MATT: Yes, son?
BOBBY: Can I ask you somethin’?
BOBBY: Well, you know that Mama says we’re going to church Sunday, for Easter?
MATT: (wincing a bit, but nodding) Yes. And I think that’s fine, just fine.
BOBBY: She just said me and Beth Ann and Emily and her were goin’, but you’re going with us, ain’t cha?
MATT: (hesitating) Well, Bobby, I don’t –
CLOSE SHOT: MATT STOPS AND KNEELS SO THAT HE IS EYE-TO-EYE WITH HIS SON.
MATT: Bobby, church is a good thing, a good thing. Sometimes, though, people feel closer to God out in nature, among His creatures.
BOBBY: You feel that way?
MATT: (nodding) Mostly, I do, son. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent so much time out on the trail. Sorta makes me feel like I’m closer to Him out here.
BOBBY: (thinking about that) But people are at church, and people are His creatures.
MATT: (pressing his lips together for a moment) That’s true.
MATT TAKES A DEEP BREATH, DECIDING HOW HE SHOULD HANDLE THE PROBLEM THAT IS BOTH COMPLICATED AND SIMPLE. FINALLY, HE LAYS A HAND ON BOBBY’S SHOULDER.
MATT: Thing is, son, that in church sometimes people talk so loud trying to say what they want to say that they talk over what God’s trying to say. (shakes his head) I’ve never heard a tree drown out the Good Lord.
BOBBY: (not sure he completely understands, but knowing at least one thing) Then I wanna stay out in nature with you Sunday.
MATT: (He sees he could be in trouble with Kitty for this.) Uh, well, we’ll see Bobby, we’ll see. I don’t figure your mother would want –
A SUDDEN CAT-LIKE GROWL INTERRUPTS HIM. STILL KNEELING, MATT SHOVES BOBBY BACK IN ONE MOTION.
CUT TO MEDIUM SHOT: A MOUNTAIN LION IS ONLY A FEW FEET AWAY, ITS BODY POISED TO ATTACK, TEETH BARED.
MATT: Stay behind me, Bobby.
BOBBY OBEYS, WATCHING, HIS EYES WIDE AND FEARFUL. AS MATT RAISES HIS RIFLE AND TRIES TO STAND,
HIS BAD LEG
MATT: (hoarsely) Get outta here, Bobby. Get away! Go!
BUT BOBBY CAN’T MOVE. THE MOUNTAIN LION CONTINUES TO TEAR AT MATT’S ARM. THE MARSHAL STRUGGLES TO FIGHT HIM OFF AS WE
DISSOLVE TO MAIN TITLE
EXTERIOR CLOSE SHOT (DAY): MATT CONTINUES TO STRUGGLE, TRYING TO BREAK FREE OF THE MOUNTAIN LION AND KEEP FROM BEING INJURED FURTHER. JUST AS IT SEEMS HE WON’T BE ABLE TO STOP THE ATTACK, WE HEAR ANOTHER GROWL.
CUT TO CLOSE SHOT: TRAMP RUSHES FROM THE WOODS, SNARLING, AND LEAPS ONTO THE MOUNTAIN LION.
CUT TO MEDIUM SHOT: THE MOUNTAIN LION RELEASES MATT’S ARM, AND MATT ROLLS FREE, HIS RIGHT HAND HELD OVER THE BLOODY LEFT FOREARM. GRIMACING, HE LETS GO TO REACH FOR HIS RIFLE AND AIM IT TOWARD THE FIGHTING ANIMALS.
MEDIUM SHOT: TRAMP AND THE MOUNTAIN LION ARE ROLLING WILDLY ON THE GROUND, FUR AND BLOOD FLYING.
MEDIUM SHOT: ON HIS KNEES, MATT TRIES AGAIN TO GET A CLEAN SHOT AT THE MOUNTAIN LION WITHOUT HITTING TRAMP. FINALLY, THE MOUNTAIN LION’S BACK GETS TURNED TOWARD MATT AND THE MARSHAL PULLS THE TRIGGER, BUT THE GUN DOESN’T FIRE, APPARENTLY DAMAGED WHEN MATT DROPPED IT.
MEDIUM SHOT: BOBBY STILL WATCHES.
MATT: Your rifle, Bobby! Shoot!
AS HE SEES THE MOUNTAIN LION CONTINUE TO FIGHT TRAMP, BOBBY HEARS HIS FATHER, SHAKES HIMSELF, AND RAISES HIS OWN RIFLE, FIRING. THE BLAST THROWS THE MOUNTAIN LION FREE OF THE DOG, AND IT LIES STILL.
CUT TO CLOSE SHOT: MATT SEES WHAT HAS HAPPENED AND FALLS BACK, GRIMACING IN PAIN AND BREATHING HEAVILY. WE SEE THAT THE SLEEVE OF HIS LEFT FOREARM IS RIPPED AND SOAKED WITH BLOOD.
CUT TO MEDIUM SHOT: BOBBY LOWERS HIS RIFLE, HIS HANDS TREMBLING.
MATT: (voice strained) You – okay, son?
BOBBY: (kneeling beside Matt) Yes, sir. What – what should I do?”
MATT: (still lying on the ground, his face twisted in a fierce grimace) In my – shirt – bandana –
BOBBY REACHES INTO MATT’S SHIRT POCKET AND PULLS OUT A RED BANDANA.
BOBBY: Got it.
MATT: (His teeth are clenched hard, his eyes tight.) When I let go – tie it – around my – arm just below – the elbow. Tie it hard.
BOBBY: Yes, sir.
MATT LETS GO OF THE ARM, AND WE SEE FRESH BLOOD NOW DRIPPING FROM THE SLEEVE. BOBBY HURRIES TO TIE THE BANDANA OFF. MATT HELPS WITH HIS RIGHT HAND. HE LOOKS DOWN AND GRIMACES.
MATT: Need – more – still bleeding.
BOBBY: I got a bandana. Grandpa Doc gave it to me.
MATT: (nods) Yes.
BOBBY AND MATT MANAGE TO TIE THE SECOND BANDANA AROUND THE WOUND. THE BLOOD FLOW SEEMS TO EASE.
MATT: (closing his eyes) Good job – Bobby.
BOBBY SMILES TENTATIVELY, THEN HIS EYES WIDEN AS HE LOOKS AROUND.
CUT TO CLOSE SHOT: TRAMP IS LYING STILL NEXT TO THE BODY OF THE MOUNTAIN LION, THE FUR BEHIND HIS NECK MATTED WITH BLOOD.
MEDIUM SHOT: BOBBY RUNS TO THE DOG.
BOBBY: Tramp! Oh, Daddy, Tramp!
MATT: (With effort, he raises up to look, pressing his lips together.) I’m – sorry, Bobby.
BOBBY TOUCHES THE DOG, WHO MOVES SLIGHTLY AND WHIMPERS.
BOBBY: He ain’t dead!
MATT: (managing to sit) He will be, son. Best to – put him out of his misery. (He grits his teeth and reaches out for Bobby’s rifle.)
BOBBY: No! You can’t! He saved us, didn’t he? You can’t kill him!
MATT: (sighs and lowers his hand) He’s hurt – bad, Bobby. He won’t – make it back home.
BOBBY: Please, Daddy? Please don’t kill him.
MATT: (can’t say no) All right. (He pushes to his feet, swaying, his face pale.)
BOBBY SEES THIS.
MATT: I’ll be – all right. (But he doesn’t look all right at all.) Mount up and – I’ll put Tramp on – the saddle in front of – you.
MEDIUM SHOT: WITH OBVIOUS PAIN, MATT MANAGES TO PICK UP THE DOG, WHO LIES LIMPLY IN HIS GRASP, AND LIFT IT PART OF THE WAY TO BOBBY BEFORE HE GASPS AND FALLS AGAINST BOBBY’S HORSE. BOBBY REACHES DOWN AND HAULS TRAMP UP THE REST OF THE WAY.
BOBBY: I got him.
MATT CAN ONLY NOD, THE EXERTION SAPPING WHAT LITTLE STRENGTH HE HAD LEFT. HE SHEATHES THE RIFLE, LEVERS HIMSELF ONTO BUCK WITH HIS RIGHT ARM AND CRADLES HIS LEFT ARM UP HIGH AGAINST HIS CHEST.
LONG SHOT: THE TWO RIDE OFF.
EXTERIOR LONG SHOT: MATT AND BOBBY ARE MOVING SLOWLY OUT OF THE WOODED AREA AND ONTO THE PLAINS. MATT SWAYS SLIGHTLY IN THE SADDLE AS THEY RIDE.
MEDIUM SHOT: BOBBY RIDES BEHIND HIS FATHER, TRAMP STILL DRAPED IN FRONT OF HIM OVER THE BOY’S SADDLE.
CLOSE SHOT: MATT’S HAT IS TUGGED DOWN LOW OVER HIS EYES, BUT BENEATH THE RIM WE SEE THAT HIS JAW IS TIGHT FROM DEALING WITH THE PAIN OF HIS WOUND. HE LEANS FORWARD, THEN BACK, CATCHING AT THE REINS WITH HIS RIGHT HAND SO THAT HE CAN STEADY HIMSELF.
CLOSE SHOT: BOBBY LOOKS FORWARD TOWARD HIS FATHER.
MEDIUM SHOT: MATT SWAYS AGAIN AND DOESN’T ANSWER RIGHT AWAY.
BOBBY: (more urgently) Daddy?
MATT: (opens his eyes slightly, pulled from obvious concentration) Yeah. (voice hoarse, sluggish) Yeah, Bobby. I’m – all – right.
BOBBY: (He wants to believe him, but he can see it’s not true.) Maybe we need ta’ stop a minute.
MATT: (shakes his head) No. No, we need to – keep going.
CLOSE SHOT: BOBBY WINCES, HIS EXPRESSION WORRIED, BUT HE DOESN’T CONTRADICT HIS FATHER.
MEDIUM SHOT: THEY CONTINUE TO RIDE AS THE SHADOWS GROW LONGER, INDICATING THE APPROACH OF EVENING.
INTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT (DAY): THE LONG BRANCH. KITTY AND DOC ARE SITTING AT A TABLE. DOC IS NURSING A BEER. KITTY DOESN’T HAVE ANYTHING IN FRONT OF HER TO DRINK. THE EVENING IS JUST BEGINNING, BUT THE PLACE IS ALREADY CROWDED.
DOC: Business looks good tonight. Good thing I have connections, or I might not have gotten a table.
KITTY: (smiling fondly at him) Oh, no. You have a permanent reservation. (pats the table) In fact, I think we might just bronze this one so everybody knows it’s off limits.
DOC: Well, now, that’s mighty generous of you, Miss Kitty. Say, I didn’t think you were coming in today, though. Matt told me yesterday that he and Bobby were going hunting and you and the girls were making up a pot of rabbit stew. In fact, he might just have hinted that I could come over for Easter dinner.
KITTY: It wasn’t a hint. You’re invited. And I came to town to pick up new dresses for Beth Ann and Emily.
DOC: And yourself, I assume.
KITTY: You assume right.
DOC: I imagine the preacher will have some competition for attention Sunday, what with the Dillon women sporting their Easter fancies.
KITTY: (A frown touches her forehead.) Sure.
DOC: What’s wrong?
KITTY: (trying to play it off) Oh, nothing. It’s just – it’s nothing.
DOC: Don’t even try that, Kitty Dillon. We’ve known each other too long. What’s bothering you?
KITTY: It really is nothing, Doc. I’ve always known how Matt feels about – well, about religion and church, and I shouldn’t even have expected – well –
DOC: (Doc understands.) He’s not going with you Sunday.
KITTY SHAKES HER HEAD AND SIGHS.
DOC: Do you want him to go?
KITTY: Well, sure I do, but I don’t want him to go just because – because I want it.
DOC: Why not?
KITTY: That’s not why someone should – well, I don’t know. (She laughs ruefully.) You know, Doc, this church thing isn’t really something I’ve been involved in, myself. But with the children, now, well, I’m thinking maybe it’s what we need to do.
DOC: You’re not worried about what people think? (His tone indicates he knows the answer already.)
KITTY: (laughs again) Since when was I ever worried about that? No, it’s just that I want the children to have a normal life and to have the chances that maybe I didn’t have. (Her voice softens.) And maybe that Matt didn’t have, either. Neither of us had normal childhoods. Who knows what might have happened –
DOC: (slightly teasing, slightly serious) You’re not worried about Matt’s eternal soul, now, are you?
KITTY: What? (She thinks about it.) No. No. Matt’s a good man, a very good man. If anybody deserves an eternity of peace and joy it’s him. You know, Matt’s seen lots of things, Doc. Lots of horrible things. He’s dealt with the dregs of society most of his life. No one has more right than Matt to be cynical, to distrust everything and everyone.
DOC: But he doesn’t.
KITTY: No, he doesn’t. He’s not reckless, but he wants to see the good in men – and women. He still gives people a chance, despite all he’s been through.
DOC: (gently) You’ve been through a lot, too, Kitty.
KITTY: Not like Matt. He’s shared things with me through the years, mostly when he’s tired and his guard is down. Terrible, terrible things that no man should have to see or do. And I know that even what he tells me isn’t everything, isn’t the worst. He keeps those things to himself.
KITTY PAUSES AND TRIES TO SMILE, AS IF SHE HAD NOT MEANT TO GET INTO SUCH A DEEP CONVERSATION. BEFORE SHE CAN MOVE ON, THOUGH, DOC PUTS A HAND ON HER ARM AND HOLDS HER THERE.
DOC: Kitty, I firmly believe that Matt Dillon and the Good Lord have an understanding. I don’t figure Matt would have lived this long if they didn’t. And I’ve heard Matt quote scripture enough times over a grave that I know he has to be familiar with The Word. Maybe he doesn’t feel like going to church every Sunday, and maybe he’d rather meet God one-on-one out on the prairie or up in the hills, but that doesn’t make him any less of a Christian than the regular Sunday-goers. In fact, knowing some of them and how they act the other days of the week, I figure Matt’s a much better servant than they are.
KITTY: Matt’s a private man, Doc, about a lot of things. He hasn’t talked to me much about his faith, but I know he has it. I just think through the years he’s seen enough charlatans and hypocrites spouting fire and brimstone from a pulpit that he doesn’t have any interest in filling their pews.
DOCL: I reckon you’re right. (He sits back for a moment before he speaks again.) What are you gonna tell Bobby about going to church Sunday?
KITTY: I’ll tell him the truth. His daddy isn’t going, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be worshipping in his own way.
DOC: I’ve found the truth works pretty well.
KITTY: (softly) Yeah.
AFTER ANOTHER MOMENT, SHE TAKES A BREATH AND SITS STRAIGHTER, HER EYES DARTING TOWARD THE SWINGING DOORS.
KITTY: I really figured they’d be back by now.
DOC: Well, you’re here in town. Maybe they’re at the house wondering where you are.
KITTY: (shakes her head) I told Matt I had to come in for the dresses, so he said they would come here and ride back with me.
DOC: (patting her hand gently) I’m sure they’ll be along soon.
Of course, I guess he might be out at Ed O’Connor’s place still. I asked him to drop a bottle of whiskey by to
thank him for looking after things when were in
DOC: (with a nod) Well, then, there you go. That’s why he’s late. Heavens, everybody knows ol’ Ed can talk a blue streak. Matt’s probably stuck listening to that same story about the grizzly bear that treed him five years ago.
KITTY: (smiling, but still not completely at ease) You’re probably right. (taking a deep breath) Maybe I should head on back to the house, anyway. Beth Ann and Emily might get worried themselves.
DOC: Tell you what. If Matt and Bobby come to town first, I’ll let them know you went home. (He runs a hand over his mustache.) And I’ll give that big oaf a piece of my mind for making his bride fret.
KITTY: Curly, what would I do without you?
DOC: I don’t plan on you finding out.
EXTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT (NIGHT): MATT AND BOBBY STILL LABOR ACROSS THE PRAIRIE. MATT SWAYS MORE NOTICABLY IN THE SADDLE NOW, HIS BACK BENT, HIS HEAD CLOSE TO THE SADDLE HORN. BOBBY WATCHES HIM CAREFULLY, THE EXPRESSION ON HIS FACE CONFLICTED.
BOBBY: It’s gettin’ late, Daddy. Maybe we should stop.
MATT DOESN’T ANSWER.
Bobby: Daddy, did ya’ hear me?
MATT STILL DOESN’T ANSWER.
CLOSE SHOT: MATT’S FACE. HIS JAW IS SLACK, HIS EYES CLOSED, HIS MOUTH OPEN. IT’S AS IF HE’S RIDING WITHOUT EVEN BEING AWARE. IN THE MOONLIGHT, WE SEE PERSPIRATION GLINTING ON HIS UPPER LIP, AS IF HE HAS A FEVER.
CLOSE SHOT: BOBBY SQUINTS TO TRY TO GET A BETTER LOOK AT HIS FATHER.
MEDIUM SHOT: BUCK SLOWS AND STOPS. MATT’S
THE BOY JUMPS DOWN FROM HIS HORSE, RUNNING TO HIS FATHER’S SIDE.
Bobby: Oh, please don’t be dead. Please, Daddy!
HE LEANS DOWN TO PLACE HIS EAR AGAINST MATT’S CHEST, CLOSING HIS EYES IN RELIEF WHEN HE HEARS A HEARTBEAT.
Bobby: What are we gonna do now?
MATT, OF COURSE, DOESN’T RESPOND. BOBBY STANDS AND WALKS BACK TO BUCK, LIFTING MATT’S CANTEEN FROM AROUND THE SADDLE HORN. HE SITS NEXT TO MATT AND SLIDES HIS LEG BENEATH HIS FATHER’S HEAD. THEN HE RAISES THE CANTEEN TO MATT’S LIPS AND LETS A SMALL AMOUNT OF WATER TRICKLE OUT. STILL UNCONSCIOUS, MATT NEVERTHELESS OPENS HIS MOUTH TO TAKE IN SOME OF THE LIQUID, THEN TURNS HIS HEAD FEEBLY AWAY. BOBBY RE-CORKS THE CANTEEN, BUT REMAINS WHERE HE IS.
CLOSE SHOT: BOBBY LOOKS DOWN AT HIS FATHER.
BOBBY: Please, Daddy. I can’t getcha home by myself.
CLOSE SHOT: BOBBY THINKS FOR A MOMENT, THEN LOOKS UP TOWARD THE SKY. HE EASES HIS LEG OUT FROM UNDER MATT’S HEAD, SLIDING HIS FATHER’S BIG STETSON BENEATH HIM. MATT DOESN’T REACT AT ALL. RISING TO HIS KNEES HE PLACES HIS HANDS TOGETHER.
BOBBY: God, I need your help. I don’t want my Daddy to die, but I can’t get him home by myself. He’s a good man. I need him. And my mama needs him. And my sisters need him. I figure there’s lots of folks that need him. Please don’t let him die. Please help me.
MEDIUM SHOT: BOBBY SITS IN SILENCE, STARING OUT ACROSS THE PRAIRE. AFTER A MOMENT, A SMALL WHIMPER BREAKS THE SILENCE. BOBBY LIFTS HIS HEAD, EYES WIDE. THE WHIMPER SOUNDS AGAIN. JUMPING TO HIS FEET, BOBBY RUSHES TO HIS HORSE, GRINNING WHEN TRAMP TRIES TO LIFT HIS HEAD.
BOBBY: Tramp! (He rubs the dog’s fur gently.) Hey, boy. How ya’ doin’?
TRAMP’S TAIL WAGS WEAKLY. CAREFULLY, BOBBY REACHES UP TO LIFT THE DOG FROM THE SADDLE, CARRYING HIM THE FEW YARDS TO LAY HIM ON THE GROUND NEXT TO MATT. TRAMP TRIES TO GET UP, BUT HE CAN’T. BOBBY STROKES HIS FUR.
BOBBY: It’s okay, boy. It’s gonna be okay.
CLOSE SHOT: MATT GROANS AND TURNS HIS HEAD, BUT DOESN’T OPEN HIS EYES.
MEDIUM SHOT: GENTLY, BOBBY RAISES HIS ARM TO LET THE SLEEVE WIPE AT THE SWEAT ON MATT’S FACE. AFTER A MOMENT, HE SITS BACK, LOOKS DOWN AT HIS FATHER AND SIGHS.
BOBBY: It’s okay, Daddy. It’s gonna be okay. (looks up again) Ain’t that right, God?
EXTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT (NIGHT): FESTUS HAGGEN RIDES UP TO A SMALL HOMESTEAD. HE DISMOUNTS HIS MULE AND STEPS ONTO THE PORCH, KNOCKING ON THE DOOR. AFTER A MOMENT, A LIGHT COMES ON INSIDE AND A SLIGHT MAN, WITH THINNING HAIR OPENS THE DOOR. HE IS HOLDING UP A LANTERN AND HAS ON BED CLOTHES.
FESTUS: I’m awful sorry ta’ bother ya’ this late, Ed.
ED O’CONNOR: Festus? What on earth are ya’ doin’ out here this time of night?
FESTUS: I wuz lookin’ fer Matthew and his boy Bobby. They wuz out huntin’ and Miz Kitty sed they wuz comin’ by yer place.
ED O’CONNOR: (puzzled) No, no I ain’t seen ‘em. What were they comin’ here for?
FESTUS: Brangin’ ya’ some whiskey, Miz Kitty sed. Fer lookin’ after their place last week.
ED: (smiling) Well, they didn’t have ta’ do that. I’d a looked after it ennyway –
FESTUS: (impatiently) Ed, I ain’t got no time ta’ conversate. Now, you shore Matthew ain’t bin by here?
ED: ‘Course I’m shore. What’s the matter?
FESTUS: They ain’t come home, yet, and Miz Kitty’s mighty worried.
ED: (suddenly alarmed himself) Not home? (Then he calms a bit.) Well, Marshal Dillon can take care of himself. Maybe they just decided to sleep out in the woods and hunt some more in the morning.
FESTUS: Matthew wouldn’t do that without telling nobody. (He sighs.) Wael, thanks ennyway, Ed.
ED: I hope ya’ find ‘em, Festus. I’m shore they’re arrite.
FESTUS: (unconvinced) Yeah.
HE STOMPS BACK OFF THE PORCH, SCRUBBING AT HIS BEARD. PAUSING BESIDE RUTH, HE GLANCES LEFT, THEN RIGHT, AS IF TRYING TO DECIDE WHICH WAY TO GO, KNOWING HE’S HAMPERED BY THE DARK WHICHEVER HE CHOOSES. FINALLY, HE CLIMBS UP INTO THE SADDLE, TUGS THE REINS AND HEADS OFF TOWARD THE RIGHT.
EXTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT (EARLY MORNING): WRAPPED IN A BLANKET, BOBBY SITS BY THE SMOULDERING EMBERS OF A FIRE. HIS EYES ARE ALMOST CLOSING AND HE NODS. WE GET THE IDEA THAT HE HAS STAYED UP MOST OF THE NIGHT, WATCHING OVER HIS FATHER.
CUT TO CLOSE SHOT: MATT’S FACE IS WET WITH SWEAT AND HE IS SHIVERING, INDICATING THAT A FEVER HAS DEVELOPED. HE SWALLOWS AND GROANS, HIS EYES OPENING TO SLITS.
CUT TO MEDIUM SHOT: ROUSED BY THE NOISE, BOBBY SITS STRAIGHT AND LOOKS OVER AT MATT, SCRAMBLING TO HIS KNEES WHEN HE SEES HIS FATHER IS AT LEAST SEMI-CONSCIOUS.
BOBBY: Daddy! Can you hear me?
MATT: (swallows again and tries to focus on the boy) Bob – Bobby?
BOBBY: (grinning in relief) Yes, sir! Oh, Daddy, I was so scared that –
MATT: What – where are – we?
BOBBY: ‘Bout ten miles from Dodge, I think.
MATT: How long – have we – been gone?
BOBBY: A whole day, I’d say. You reckon Uncle Festus or somebody is out lookin’ for us?
MATT: Could – be.
BOBBY: You reckon we should just wait for ‘em?
MATT: (weakly but trying to be firm) Listen, Bobby. I – want you to – leave me. Go – to – Dodge.
BOBBY: But, but I can’t leave you. Not by yourself.
MATT: (propping on an elbow) You – have to, boy. Go – get – Doc. Tell him – bring him – back –
BOBBY: But what if something happens? What if – if another cat comes – or outlaws? You can’t stop ‘em by yourself.
MATT IS SHAKING NOW, HIS STRENGTH FADING QUICKLY. HE GRITS HIS TEETH AND LOOKS HIS SON DIRECTLY IN THE EYE.
MATT: You – have to – do it, Bobby.
BOBBY: But I’m not – not sure I know the way back.
MATT: Yes, you – do. I’m – counting – on you, son.
CUT TO CLOSE SHOT: BOBBY LOOKS UP TOWARD THE SKY, SWALLOWS, THEN LOOKS BACK AT MATT AND NODS.
BOBBY: Okay. (He glances down at Matt’s arm, seeing the fresh blood.) Let me fix that bandage, first.
CUT TO MEDIUM SHOT: MATT IS TOO WEAK NOW TO PROTEST, HAVING USED ALL HIS STRENGTH TO CONVINCE HIS SON TO GO ON TO DODGE. BOBBY GINGERLY UNWRAPS THE BANDANAS, GRIMACING AS HE REVEALS THE RAGGED WOUND. WE SEE THAT THE AREA IS ANGRY AND SWOLLEN, SURE INDICATIONS OF INFECTION.
BOBBY: This don’t look too good, Daddy.
MATT: (He is lying on his back again, eyes closed.) I – know.
BOBBY: Wish we had some of Grandpa Doc’s medicine, the kind he put on Tommy Roniger’s leg when he got caught up in that barbed wire last year.
MATT: (His eyes open slightly.) Whiskey.
BOBBY: You want somethin’ to drink?
MATT: (shakes his head and tries to point toward Buck) Whiskey – in my – saddlebag. Get – it.
BOBBY UNDERSTANDS AND JUMPS UP, RUSHING TO THE BAG AND TUGGING OUT THE FULL BOTTLE OF WHISKEY KITTY WAS SENDING TO ED O’CONNOR.
BOBBY: Got it! (He struggles with the cork for several seconds before it finally pops out, spilling some of the contents, then holds it up to Matt’s lips.)
MATT: (shakes his head) No – just – pour some over – my arm.
BOBBY: (eyes wide) Your arm?
MATT: It’ll – be – okay. Make sure it – gets in good.
BOBBY: (uncertainly) Yes, sir.
PAINFULLY, MATT SITS AND HOLDS HIS ARM OUT SO THAT BOBBY HAS BETTER ACCESS TO IT. HE NODS AT BOBBY, AND THE BOY TILTS THE BOTTLE SO THAT A GOOD PORTION OF THE LIQUID SPLASHES OVER THE OPEN WOUND. DESPITE BRACING HIMSELF, MATT JERKS HIS HEAD BACK AND CAN’T KEEP A HARSH GRUNT FROM ESCAPING HIM.
BOBBY: (stops pouring immediately) Daddy?
THE MARSHAL IS FROZEN FOR A MOMENT, UNABLE TO RESPOND OR EVEN MOVE. FINALLY, HE MANAGES TO CATCH HIS BREATH AGAIN.
MATT: (voice ragged) Do it – again.
BOBBY: But –
MATT: (impatient from the pain) Do it!
ONCE AGAIN, BOBBY LIFTS THE BOTTLE AND POURS THE REST OF THE CONTENTS OVER MATT’S ARM. THIS TIME, THE MARSHAL’S BODY BUCKS IN AGONY, AND HE GROANS THROUGH GRITTED TEETH. AS THE LAST OF THE LIQUID IS EMPTIED, HIS FACE GOES SLACK AND HE FALLS BACK, OUT COLD.
STARING AT HIS FATHER, BOBBY WATCHES UNTIL HE SEES THE BROAD CHEST LIFT. WITH A RELIEVED SIGH, HE PUTS DOWN THE BOTTLE AND TUGS OFF HIS OUTER SHIRT. RIPPING IT INTO STRIPS, HE CAREFULLY RE-BANDAGES MATT’S ARM AND SITS BACK, EXHAUSTED FROM THE TRAUMA.
BOBBY: (in a whisper) I don’t wanna leave you, Daddy, but I hafta. I won’t let you down. I promise.
HE LOOKS AT TRAMP, LYING NEXT TO THE MARSHAL.
BOBBY: Keep him safe, boy.
TRAMP’S TAIL THUMPS WEAKLY. BOBBY LAYS THE BLANKET OVER MATT, TAKES A DEEP BREATH, AND WALKS TO HIS HORSE. HE MOUNTS AND, AFTER A FINAL LOOK, RIDES OFF.
CLOSE SHOT: MATT’S FACE, FLUSHED AND DAMP WITH FEVER.
EXTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT (DAY): BOBBY IS RIDING ACROSS THE PRAIRIE, SQUINTING AGAINST THE RISING SUN. A LONG, LONELY LAND STRETCHES OUT BEFORE HIM. HE PULLS UP, TAKES HIS HAT FROM HIS HEAD AND WIPES THE SWEAT FROM HIS FACE. WHEN HE PLACES THE HAT BACK ON HIS HEAD, HE LOOKS AROUND AS IF HE IS UNCERTAIN WHICH DIRECTION TO TAKE. HE LOOKS RIGHT, THEN LEFT, THEN RIGHT AGAIN, FROWNING. FINALLY, HE LIFTS HIS EYES TOWARD THE SKY FOR A LONG MOMENT. WHEN HE LOWERS THEM, HE NODS ONCE DECISIVELY AND TUGS THE HORSE’S REINS LEFT, HEADING OFF IN THAT DIRECTION.
EXTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT (DAY): MATT AND TRAMP LIE NEXT TO EACH OTHER ON THE GROUND, THE MORNING SUN BEATING DOWN ON THEM. TRAMP TRIES TO RISE, BUT DOESN’T MAKE IT TO HIS FEET. MATT SWALLOWS AND STIRS SLIGHTLY, HIS EYES SQUINTING OPEN.
CUT TO CLOSE SHOT: TRAMP’S EAR PRICK, AND HE LIFTS HIS HEAD AS IF HE HEARS SOMETHING.
CLOSE SHOT: A RATTLESNAKE IS COILED TO STRIKE.
MEDIUM SHOT: WE SEE THAT THE SNAKE IS ONLY A COUPLE OF FEET AWAY FROM MATT’S LEG. TRAMP BARES HIS TEETH AND GROWLS. MATT OPENS HIS EYES WIDER, ALERTED BY THE DOG’S WARNING. BLINKING, HE LOOKS DOWN WHEN HE HEARS THE RATTLE AND SEES THE SNAKE. JUST AS IT SEEMS THE SNAKE IS ABOUT TO STRIKE, MATT’S RIGHT HAND SNAPS TO HIS COLT. FAST DESPITE HIS WEAKENED STATE, HE MANAGES TO SHOOT JUST AS THE SNAKE MOVES. THE REPTILE JERKS IN MID-AIR AND FALLS TO THE GROUND, ITS HEAD TAKEN OFF BY MATT’S BULLET.
MATT: Atta – boy, Tramp.
MEDIUM SHOT: AGAIN, THE MARSHAL’S EYES CLOSE, BUT WE SEE TRAMP PULL HIMSELF UP TO SIT NEXT TO HIS MASTER, AS IF ON GUARD, NOW.
EXTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT (DAY): BOBBY CONTINUES TO RIDE ACROSS THE PRAIRIE. THE SUN IS ALMOST DIRECTLY OVERHEAD. WE SEE WEARINESS IN THE BOY’S SHOUDLERS, BUT HE KEEPS GOING.
CLOSE SHOT: BOBBY’S HEAD COMES UP AT THE SOUND OF ANOTHER HORSE.
MEDIUM SHOT: CAUTIOUSLY, HE MOVES HIS HORSE BEHIND A SAGE BUSH, LEANING DOWN OVER THE HORSE’S NECK SO THAT HE WON’T BE SEEN BY THE APPORACHING RIDER. AFTER A LONG, TENSE MOMENT. FESTUS AND RUTH COME INTO VIEW.
BOBBY: (calling out in relief) Uncle Festus!
FESTUS: (grinning) Bobby! Boy, you shore is a site fer achin’ eyes.
BOBBY: I’m sure glad to see you, too.
FESTUS: Where’s yer daddy?
BOBBY: He’s hurt. Mountain lion got him. He’s back about five miles or so.
FESTUS: (eyes widening in alarm) Arrite, let’s go git ‘im. You lead me thar.
BOBBY: (seriously) Yes, sir. And – and we need ta hurry.
HIS UNSPOKEN WORDS ARE CLEAR TO FESTUS, WHO NODS AND SPURS RUTH ON. THEY HEAD BACK IN THE DIRECTION BOBBY JUST CAME FROM, BOTH HORSE AND MULE GOING HARD.
MEDIUM SHOT: THE MORNING SUN IS BEATING DOWN ON MATT’S FACE, BUT HE HAS NO STRENGTH TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. WE AREN’T EVEN SURE HE IS STILL ALIVE AT THIS POINT. TRAMP STILL SITS PROTECTIVELY BY HIM.
AFTER A MOMENT, THE SOUND OF HOOFBEATS BECOMES CLEAR. FESTUS AND BOBBY RIDE UP, BOTH OF THEM LEAPING FROM THEIR MOUNTS BEFORE THE ANIMALS CAN FULLY STOP. TRAMP BARKS IN GREETING. FESTUS RUSHES OVER TO WHERE MATT LIES.
FESTUS: Matthew? (He takes off his hat to block the sun from Matt’s face.) Matthew, kin ya hear me?
BOBBY: (kneeling beside his father) Daddy? I found Uncle Festus. He’s gonna help.
CLOSE SHOT: MATT’S EYES SQUINT OPEN, AND HE LOOKS UP.
MATT: (weakly) Festus.
FESTUS: (grinning) Shore nuff. (He glances down at the wounded arm, and sees the bloody bandage that covers it.) Don’t you worry none, now, Matthew. Bobby’n me’s gonna git ya ta Doc.
MEDIUM SHOT: FESTUS LOOKS AROUND, SEES THE DEAD SNAKE, AND SHAKES HIS HEAD IN WONDER.
FESTUS: I jest gotta find somethin’ ta’ make a travois outta.
MATT: (shakes his head) No. I – can – stand.
FESTUS: (looking doubtful) Wael –
MATT NODS AND DRAGS HIS ACHING BODY UP FROM THE GROUND, BUT IT’S CLEAR HE CAN’T MANAGE BY HIMSELF. FESTUS REACHES OUT WITH BOTH HANDS TO GRAB MATT’S OUTSTRETCHED RIGHT ARM. BOBBY GRABS MATT’S RIGHT ELBOW. WITH THEIR HELP, HE MANAGES TO SIT. THE MARSHAL STAYS THERE FOR A LONG MOMENT, EYES CLOSED, TEETH GRITTED. THEN HE SETS HIS JAW, BRACES ON ONE KNEE AND PUSHES TO HIS FEET. HE COMES VERY CLOSE TO FALLING RIGHT BACK ON THE GROUND. FESTUS HOLDS ON TO HIM BY THE WAIST, AND SOMEHOW, MATT FINDS ENOUGH STRENGTH TO STAY UPRIGHT, EVEN THOUGH IT’S A NEAR THING.
MATT: (after a long moment) Thanks.
FESTUS: Can ya’ git back on Buck?
MATT NODS, BUT DOESN’T RESPOND VERBALLY. WITH EFFORT HE STUMBLES TO THE PATIENT BUCKSKIN, LEANING AGAINST THE HORSE’S SIDE BEFORE HE ATTEMPTS TO MOUNT HIM. HIS RIGHT HAND CLUTCHING AT THE SADDLEHORN, HE HAULS HIMSELF UP AND OVER THE HORSE’S BACK, ALMOST FALLING AGAIN BEFORE HE GAINS ENOUGH BALANCE, WITH FESTUS’ HELP, TO REMAIN MOUNTED.
BOBBY LOOPS THE CANTEEN OVER THE SADDLEHORN BEFORE HE LIFTS TRAMP BACK ONTO HIS OWN SADDLE. MATT NOTICES.
MATT: He’s a – good dog.
BOBBY GRINS AND CLIMBS ONTO HIS OWN HORSE WHILE FESTUS MOUNTS RUTH.
MATT: (tightly) Yeah?
BOBBY: He’s gonna be okay, ain’t he?
MATT: (He is clearly having trouble enough just remaining conscious.) I – think so.
BOBBY: (after another beat) You’re – you’re gonna be okay, too, aren’t you, Daddy?
FESTUS: Why, shore he will. Foot, ain’t no ol’ mountain lion gonna best Matthew Dillon. (He gives a reassuring wink.)
MATT BRACES HIMSELF AND DRAWS A SHUDDERING BREATH, BUT DOESN’T SPEAK.
CLOSE SHOT: FESTUS WATCHES WORRIEDLY AS THEY RIDE ON.
EXTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT (EVENING):
CLOSE SHOT: MATT IS BENT OVER BUCK’S NECK, HIS EYES ALMOST CLOSED. HE IS BARELY STAYING IN THE SADDLE.
MEDIUM SHOT: AS THEY NEAR DOC’S STAIRS, FESTUS SLIDES OFF RUTH AND RUSHES TO MATT’S SIDE, HIS ARMS RAISED.
CLOSE SHOT: MATT LOOKS DOWN, AND WE SEE THAT HE IS BARELY CONSCIOUS. HE BEGINS TO SLIDE SIDEWAYS OFF THE HORSE.
MEDIUM SHOT: FESTUS CATCHES THE MARSHAL AS HE FALLS, DOING HIS BEST TO KEEP MATT’S WEIGHT FROM TAKING THEM BOTH TO THE GROUND.
MEDIUM SHOT: NEWLY HAS SEEN THEM PULL UP AND RUSHES OUT OF THE JAIL, ARRIVING JUST IN TIME TO HELP FESTUS HOLD MATT, STILL A DIFFICULT TASK FOR JUST TWO MEN.
FESTUS: Let’s git him up ta’ Doc’s.
MATT: (weakly, slumping between the two men) I can – make it. (He tries to turn.) Bobby –
BOBBY: I’m okay, Daddy.
FESTUS AND NEWLY EACH SLIDE AN ARM AROUND MATT’S WAIST AND SUPPORT HIM AS THEY SLOWLY MAKE THEIR WAY UP THE STAIRS. HE IS ALMOST DEAD WEIGHT BETWEEN THEM, AND IT TAKES SUBSTANTIAL EFFORT.
CLOSE SHOT: DOC’S DOOR OPENS AND THE PHYSICIAN STEPS OUT.
DOC: What in tarnation – (But when he sees Matt, he looks alarmed.) Get him in here!
MEDIUM SHOT: THE THREE DISAPPEAR THROUGH THE DOOR, WHICH CLOSES BEHIND THEM.
CLOSE SHOT: BOBBY IS LEFT TO GET OFF HIS HORSE BY HIMSELF. CAREFULLY, HE DISMOUNTS, THEN REACHES TO TAKE TRAMP IN HIS ARMS, STRUGGLING WITH HIS BURDEN UNTIL HE MAKES IT TO THE BOTTOM STEP, WHERE HE SITS, THE DOG’S HEAD IN HIS LAP. TRAMP WAGS HIS TAIL SLIGHTLY.
BOBBY: (soothingly) It’s okay, boy. You’re gonna be okay. Daddy’s gonna be okay, too. You’ll see. (He looks up again and nods.) Ain’t that right, God?
INTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT (DAY): THE BEDROOM IN DOC’S OFFICE. MATT IS LYING, PROPPED UP IN THE BED, HIS LEFT ARM BANDAGED PROPERLY AND RESTING GINGERLY ACROSS HIS LAP, HIS SHIRT OPEN. DOC STANDS NEXT TO HIM, A STETHOSCOPE PRESSED AGAINST THE MARSHAL’S CHEST. KITTY SITS IN A CHAIR NEXT TO HIM, ONE HAND RESTING LIGHTLY ON HIS SHOULDER. AFTER A MOMENT, DOC STRAIGHTENS AND SHAKES HIS HEAD.
DOC: Well, I guess some folks are just too ornery to die.
KITTY LOOKS UP AT HIM, SMILING RATHER UNEASILY AT THE JOKE. DOC REALIZES HOW IT SOUNDED AND CLEARS HIS THROAT QUICKLY.
DOC: (confidently) You’re gonna be fine, Matt. A couple more scars to add to your collection, but that’s about all you’ll have to deal with once your arm heals completely.
MATT: (his voice still a little tight, indicating lingering discomfort) Thanks, Doc.
KITTY: When can he go home?
DOC: (cocking his head) Oh, this afternoon, I guess. (His eyebrows lift, and he levels a pointed gaze at the Marshal.) As long as he goes straight to bed and doesn’t do any heavy lifting for at least two weeks.
MATT: Two weeks! Doc, I can’t just lie around for two weeks. I’ll go stir crazy.
KITTY: (Her hand slides over his shoulder, and she whispers.) Maybe I’ll just have to find ways to – entertain you, Cowboy.
CLOSE SHOT: MATT. KITTY’S INSINUATION BRINGS A FLUSH TO HIS CHEEKS, AND HE GLANCES QUICKLY TOWARD DOC, THEN BACK TO HIS WIFE.
MEDIUM SHOT: DOC, WHO HAS APPARENTLY HEARD KITTY DESPITE HER WHISPER, SHAKES HIS HEAD AND STUFFS THE STETHOSCOPE BACK INTO HIS BAG.
DOC: I can take a hint. (seriously) But I do mean it, Matt. I have done my usual professional job on that arm, and you’re not gonna tear it all up again, you hear me?
MATT: (sighing) I hear you.
DOC: All right, then. You lie there another few hours and I’ll let you know when you can go. Kitty, make sure he rests.
KITTY: Sure thing, Doc.
DOC LEAVES THE ROOM, MUTTERING. AS SOON AS HE’S GONE, MATT GIVES KITTY A TEASING GRIN.
MATT: You’ll find ways to entertain me, huh?
KITTY: Oh, yes.
MATT: Like what kinds of ways?
KITTY: (her eyes light up) Want a sample now?
MATT: Yes, ma’am.
CLOSE SHOT: KITTY LEANS OVER TO KISS HIM GENTLY, HER LIPS MOVING SLOWLY ON HIS. AS SHE STARTS TO PULL BACK, HIS RIGHT ARM SLIDES AROUND HER AND HE TUGS HER BACK DOWN, KISSING HER HARDER. SHE THROWS HER ARMS AROUND HIM AND RETURNS THE KISS PASSIONATELY. FINALLY, BREATHING HEAVILY, SHE BURIES HER FACE IN HIS NECK.
KITTY: Oh, Matt, I was so worried.
MATT: (patting her back soothingly) It’s all right, Kitty.
KITTY: I couldn’t help but imagine what might have happened. And with Bobby out there. Well, if you had – if you couldn’t – and he was all alone. Oh, Matt, he’s just a boy.
MATT: (He eases her away from him so that he can look her in the eye.) He was a boy when we went out, but he came back a young man.
KITTY: (frowning) What do you mean?
MATT: He saved my life, Kitty. Twice. First by shooting that mountain lion. Then, by tending to my arm and going out for help.
KITTY: Little Bobby?
MATT: Not so little anymore, I think.
KITTY: (proud but a little sad, too) I guess all of our children are growing up.
MATT: (tenderly) And isn’t that a good thing?
KITTY NODS, TEARS IN HER EYES.
MEDIUM SHOT: THERE IS A KNOCK ON THE DOOR. BEFORE MATT AND KITTY CAN DISENGAGE FROM THEIR EMBRACE, THE DOOR OPENS AND BOBBY WALKS IN, TRAMP NEXT TO HIM, LIMPING SLIGHTLY BUT OTHERWISE ALL RIGHT.
BOBBY: (grinning) Look at Tramp! He’s gonna be okay!
MATT: He sure is, son.
BOBBY: (sobering) How ya’ feelin’ today, Daddy?
MATT: Fine. I feel just fine, Bobby. I was just telling your mother what a man you were out there.
BOBBY: (smiling proudly, but shrugging) I just did what you told me. And what He told me.
KITTY: (confused) He?
BOBBY: (glances up) God.
MATT: (brows rising) God?
BOBBY: Sure. After you passed out, I didn’t figure I could do everything all by myself, so I asked God to help. I remembered what you said, Daddy, about God bein’ out in nature, and I figured He’d be listenin’ with us so close and all. And He was! He made Tramp better so he could stay with you, and showed me which direction to go back to Dodge.
KITTY AND MATT EXCHANGE AMAZED LOOKS. AFTER A MOMENT OF SILENCE, MATT GIVES HIS SON A NOD.
MATT: Guess I’m grateful to both of you, then.
BOBBY: Oh, Mama, Beth Ann said not to worry about Sunday dinner. She and Emily already got things taken care of. Ain’t no reason ta’ come back home until Daddy’s ready.
KITTY: Isn’t – (But she stops her grammar correction and just smiles.) Thank you, Bobby.
BOBBY: I’ll see ya’ later. Uncle Festus is gonna show me how to stack cards.
HE RUSHES OUT BEFORE EITHER PARENT CAN RESPOND. BOTH KITTY AND MATT SMILE AT EACH OTHER BEFORE KITTY’S EXPRESSION GROWS MORE SERIOUS.
KITTY: Uh, Matt, there’s something I need to tell you.
MATT: (He squints a bit in anticipation of what she might say, and lets his right hand rub her arm.) What is it?
KITTY: Well, I know we talked about going to church Sunday –
MATT: (interrupting) Kitty, I –
KITTY: (not letting him continue) But – but I want you to know that – that I don’t mind – I mean I understand why you don’t want to go.
MATT: Kitty –
KITTY: See, Doc and I had a long talk, and, well – I’ll just tell Bobby that you have your own ways of –
MATT: (gently) I’ve already talked to Bobby.
KITTY: That’s right. I guess you have.
KITTY: Well, then. That’s taken care of. I’ll take the children, and then we’ll be back for dinner. Doc’s coming over. And Quint, of course. And besides, you’ll need to be resting, anyway –
CLOSE SHOT: MATT’S LIPS SPREAD INTO A SMILE AS SHE CONTINUES TALKING, HIS EXPRESSION TENDER AS WE
EXTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT (DAY): THE
INTERIOR MEDIUM SHOT: INSIDE THE CHURCH. THE PREACHER IS WELCOMING EVERYONE TO THE EASTER SERVICE. THE CAMERA PANS THE CONGREGATION, FINALLY MOVING TO
CLOSE SHOT: ONE END OF A PEW. QUINT, WEARING A FRESH, WHITE SHIRT, SITS NEXT TO EMILY. THE CAMERA PANS OVER THEM THEN PAST EMILY TO REVEAL BETH ANN. BOTH OF THEM WEAR BRIGHT, NEW DRESSES. THE CAMERA CONTINUES TO MOVE UNTIL IT SETTLES BRIEFLY ON KITTY. HER PALE GREEN DRESS AND FASHIONABLE HAT COMPLIMENT HER FIERY HAIR. EVEN IN CHURCH SHE IS STUNNING.
THE CAMERA MOVES PAST HER TO BOBBY, WHO GRINS UP AT HER. AFTER SEVERAL SECONDS, BOBBY TURNS FROM HIS MOTHER TO LOOK TO HIS LEFT. THE CAMERA SHIFTS, REVEALING MATT, DRESSED IN HIS GRAY COAT AND STRING TIE, HIS LEFT ARM IN A SLING. HE SMILES DOWN AT BOBBY, WHO GRINS BACK. LEANING UP, BOBBY WHISPERS INTO HIS FATHER’S EAR.
BOBBY: I guess God can be anywhere, Daddy. Even in church.
MATT: (lowering his head toward his son) I guess He can, Bobby.
BOBBY: Happy Easter, Daddy.
MATT: Happy Easter, Son.
CLOSE SHOT: KITTY, LOOKING AT HER TWO MEN, SMILES, TEARS IN HER EYES AS WE
DISSOLVE TO CREDITS
FADE TO BLACK: END OF EPISODE