 
Big Chief Brooklyn

Screenplay and book

by

Phil Wohl

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2017 Phil Wohl

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INT. COHEN SUBURBAN RESIDENCE

Rita Cohen walks out of the kitchen with a vat of sweet potatoes bathed in melted marshmallows. The Cohen family matriarch clears a path between the oven and the middle of the table like she was backing a dump truck en route to the unloading zone. The sheer weight of the dish would have buckled the roots of a mature sequoia, but the aged wood dining table had been through the wars and was ready for the bricks of giving on this day.

Gil's sister, Nancy, walks to the table with a bowl of odiferous garlic green beans. She fails to see the incline between the wood floor of the kitchen and the carpeted living room and proceeded to deposit most of the beans on the floor. Luckily, the foresight of Rita Cohen to only fill the bowl half-way saved many from garlic overdose but propelled Gil into a painful flashback.

INT. GIL AND MELANIE COHEN MANHATTAN APARTMENT

GIL COHEN

Can you get me the parmesan cheese, please?

An audible female grunt of frustration emanates from the couple's kitchen. The distance from the kitchen to the dining room in a Manhattan one-bedroom apartment was about the length of a hop-scotch board. Melanie takes two steps into the room and then awkwardly drops the can of sprinkle cheese onto the floor.

MELANIE COHEN

(Yells) Fuck me! (She scoops the can off the floor)

The event within itself would have been laughable if it wasn't the third time she had dropped an item in the previous week. When she released a basket of fresh laundry onto the cold, concrete laundry room floor they just smiled and moved on. A few nights later, the crashing of a glass of water awakened Gil's senses like a violent car crash.

Gil moved quickly to stand up and help, but Melanie shot him a look like, "If you move, I'll kill you." At age 30, she was starting to experience a series of connected involuntary events that were freaking her out. With retirement a distant 35 years away, she figured there would be time to be old and awkward but never weak, as the initial stages of ALS were taking hold.

Thanksgiving lacked any meaning for Gil, especially now that his wife had passed on. He had always felt more apologetic than celebratory about the holiday in the years leading up to this day, but was always happy to spend the time with people he called family. Thoughts of abused Native Americans dancing in his head made a virtual mockery of the supposedly festive proceedings. Gil would rather have spent the day with red people—the people of the earth—than red-from-stress people, and vowed to run for the hills at the first smoke signal.

Back in kinder, gentler days, Gil's parents were avid Brooklyn Dodgers fans and their favorite player was first baseman Gil Hodges. The 1950s were a special time to live in Brooklyn and be a Dodgers fan, especially when the Boys of Summer became champions in 1955. Rita and Martin Cohen vowed from that point on that if they had a son, they would name him Gilbert Hodges Cohen. When the New York Mets and Gil were born in 1964, some of the sting of the Dodgers defection to Los Angeles was alleviated. Even more of that sadness was released when their hero, Gil Hodges played for the original Metropolitans and then later managed the Miracle Mets to a championship in 1969. This made five year-old Gil quite the popular student at his pre-school.

While tryptophan was released into the collective blood streams of the holiday-goers, Gilbert Hodges Cohen was off in his own Melanie-induced world. He was drifting toward how they had met in college—Melanie was a soccer player who majored in the female fascination that was Women's Studies, and Gil played first base for the Hofstra University baseball team and majored in Management, Entrepreneurship & General Business. Both teenagers were full scholarship student-athletes, but that was where their similarities severed. They crossed paths a few times but every time Gil felt like he was advancing, Melanie quickly slapped him down. He finally gave up, figuring that there were many other fish in the collegiate sea. When their paths crossed five years later at an alumni function in New York City, Melanie had absorbed a few cocktails and was considerably more responsive than her usual judge and jury demeanor.

INT. ALUMNI FUNCTION AT NYC RESTAURANT

GIL COHEN

Do you remember me?

MELANIE COHEN

(Squints) Aren't you the baseball player that stalked me in college?

GIL COHEN

(Smiles) Stalked? That's a pretty strong word for getting some exercise while walking a safe distance behind someone.

EXT. CENTRAL PARK BENCH

GIL COHEN

(To the audience) I'm not sure why I couldn't live without her. At first I thought it was about my desire to be accepted and loved, but lately I have come to the realization that it was simply a train wreck that couldn't be avoided.

INT. HOTEL ROOM

GIL COHEN

(To the audience) After spending years as little more as a scratching post, I was finally needed by a woman that previously had as much warmth as winter in Minnesota. It was a wonder that we even got married in the first place. About six months prior to her diagnosis, I found himself bunking at the Hyatt Regency for a few weeks while Melanie tried to sort out her plans for the future. (Narrates) That month alone wasn't so bad. I ate take-out Chinese, Italian and anything else that would fit in a bag, and I got to watch anything and everything I wanted on TV. Come to think of it, I'm not really sure why I went back? She didn't even stay at our apartment for most of the month. She jetted off to Cancun for a week and the spent another couple of weeks working on a case in Florida. She was a real shark of a lawyer. She kept a safe distance from most of her suitors throughout the years until she came across Lenny Margolis, one of the senior partners of the firm. Margolis was a real big shot in his own mind, and was even a bigger deal in Melanie's mind. The usually cool and collected Melanie was all leg-noodles and stomach-flips around Lenny. He, in turn, used his mental mastery to push Melanie to do just about anything at work the puppet-master desired. His dominance was purely mental for the first few years they worked together, but that all changed we they met by "chance" in Florida during those weeks she was away. It was obvious that married Lenny with three kids was there to close a deal that had nothing to do with the law. After a few cocktails they went at each other like a couple of lions battling over a piece of meat, until "Len the Quick" finished and left a sticky residue on Melanie's dress.

LENNY MARGOLIS

(Throws a $100 bill on the bed) That should cover it. (He walks away)

She then calls upon the remaining shreds of her damaged being to pick up the phone and call her boyfriend.

GIL COHEN

Hello.

MELANIE COHEN

Gilbert.

GIL COHEN

(Pauses in subtle victory) Is it time?

MELANIE COHEN

It's time.

Marriage was a slippery slope for the couple, especially considering Melanie's weakening condition. She was still going to work, because her law firm wouldn't have dared fire her and suffer the ramifications of a wrongful termination lawsuit. Despite Gil's endless pleading, Melanie continued to go to work with the help of an aid, who did everything for her from pushing the wheel chair to swabbing the deck after she went to the bathroom. She was sitting at her desk one morning, trying to muster whatever control she had left over her body, when her head suddenly went into a free-fall with the hard wood desk as the landing site. The aid used a portable oxygen unit once she propped Melanie's head back to its upright position, but the damage had already been done.

Melanie barely clung to life the next four days without the use of resuscitation, as were her written orders. There were no dramatic goodbyes, no last-minute reconciliations over failed relationships, and no proclamations of undying love from either Melanie or Gil. Luckily, he was there to say goodbye on the morning she stopped breathing. Whether she technically continued with "the living" or not, he had decided to end his active participation in her life.

GIL COHEN

(Kisses her on the forehead) It's time for me to let you go. I hope you move on to better things.

With that, the heart monitor transitioned into a flat line and a long, unyielding tone. Although it was their last interaction as a couple, it probably was their most touching moment. Melanie had finally heard something that Gil said and decided to move on. Words could not express his relief in having his own life back, but the waves of sorrow and remorse continued to wash over him through the funeral and for weeks after she was laid to rest. It was time, however, for Gil to start anew.

Gil worked as a sports agent, representing primarily basketball and football players. His client list started with a Hofstra wide receiver named James Colton, who was drafted by the Miami Dolphins in the fifth round and lasted in the NFL for 10 years before retiring. It was actually quite innocent how he got into the business in the first place...

INT. HOFSTRA UNIVERSITY BRIDGE OVER HEMPSTEAD TURNPIKE

GIL COHEN

Hey, JC! Are you going to the draft in New York on Saturday?

JAMES COLTON

I don't think I'm going to be drafted. (Then notices a smile on Gil's face) Why? Are you hearing something different?

Gil read all of the football magazines, listened to every sports talk show and watched every TV show he could click to.

GIL COHEN

I've given it a lot of thought, and I think it could be the Seahawks, Dolphins, or Saints in rounds four through six.

JAMES COLTON

(Surprised) Really?

GIL COHEN

(Confident) Really.

JAMES COLTON

(Humble) Would you come with me?

GIL COHEN

(Reaches into his pocket and pulls out two press passes to the draft) I thought you'd never ask.

The initial plan was for Gil to bring his cousin to the draft. Being a member of the Hofstra newspaper staff entitled him to press passes when an event came to the New York area. With only a couple of months to graduation, there were only a few more events he could apply for, so this stroke of luck came just in the nick of time. Gil didn't have a clue what he was going to do after graduation. His decent baseball career was good enough to earn him 34 wins as a college starting pitcher, but not good enough to further his career after graduation.

INT. NFL DRAFT, NEW YORK CITY

Once at the draft, word sifted through the stands that James had attended the draft. As the rounds dragged on, the top picks had departed the green room and were on their way to the cities of the teams that had drafted them. James and Gil were ushered to a viewing room once the fourth round began.

NFL REPRESENTATIVE

We need the phone number of your agent in case a team wants to contact you.

JAMES COLTON

Gil, what's your cell phone number?

GIL COHEN

What did you need my number for?

JAMES COLTON

(Extends his right hand) Congratulations, you are now my agent.

Gil quickly shook James' hand and in an instant, everything made sense.

After 12 years in the business, he had accumulated a rolling list of 10 clients and had an annual income of about $4 million. Gil felt that taking on any more athletes would only serve to water down his representation. His first client, James Colton, had finished his playing career a few years earlier and had become Gil's right-hand man on a full-time basis. James and Gil went out to dinner one night and had the following conversation.

INT. UPPER WEST SIDE RESTAURANT

GIL COHEN

(Buttering a roll) I think you're ready.

JAMES COLTON

(Takes a drink of water) Ready for what?

GIL COHEN

(Bites into the roll) You know what I'm talking about.

JAMES COLTON

If I knew what you were talking about, we'd already be talking about it. Are you all right? You've been somewhere else over the past few months.

GIL COHEN

What do you mean?

JAMES COLTON

Do you remember when we had lunch the other day with that lineman from Delaware?

GIL COHEN

Yeah.

JAMES COLTON

What was his name?

GIL COHEN

Barnes. Ricky Barnes. (Says with a sense of surety)

JAMES COLTON

(Tough love) Ricky Barnes was a lineman on my team at Hofstra, 12 years ago.

GIL COHEN

Son-of-a-bitch. What was that kid's name?

JAMES COLTON

Steve Austin.

GIL COHEN

Steve Austin? Bullshit! He was the Six Million Dollar Man!

JAMES COLTON

(Insists) His parents watched the show every week. That's really the kid's name!

GIL COHEN

Why are we arguing about a guy with a bionic eye and legs that could churn a gallon of butter in seconds?

JAMES COLTON

Because you have that look in your eye. My cousin had that look before he left his wife. If I remember correctly, that is the same look Rocky had on his face before knocking down Clubber Lang.

GIL COHEN

What was that Rocky III? Mr. T. was a mean son-of-bitch in that movie. I'll never get over Drago killing Apollo Creed, though. That just wasn't right.

JAMES COLTON

You know what I'm trying to say. If you think I'm ready that's one thing, but if you just need some time off...

GIL COHEN

(Moves in closer to his friend and they shake hands and embrace) It's time for me to move on, which means it's time for you to step up.

The men shared a good, short cry, a manly-cry if you will. Just long enough to draw water but not too long to arouse suspicion of weakness. Once they finished dinner, they exchanged parting greetings.

JAMES COLTON

(As Gil is walking away) So, what are you going to do now?

GIL COHEN

(Turns around, his arms extended, head and palms to the sky) I don't know. I'm just going to let the wind guide me.

Having that much responsibility over the future direction of your life would unnerve most people, but most people don't have a comfortable, multi-million dollar net worth and absolutely no responsibilities. Gil had the luxury of time on his side. Time to sort out his questionable personal decisions in his life, time to realign his professional energy after a dozen years of chasing the dream, and time to get some distance from his meddling family and give his mom a break from the strain it must be causing her to oversee every possible scenario that could potentially occur in his life.

INT. GIL's upper west side apartment

Gil knew a conventional vacation in the islands wouldn't begin to cover what he needed to address. All he could think about during Thanksgiving was Native Americans, so he sat up in his bed, opened his laptop, and typed "native american tours."

Four days later he was in Arizona trying to reconnect with nature at a luxury hotel.

EXT. HYATT HOTEL, SEDONA

He spent a few minutes at the pool, took a scalding whirlpool, and then crashed in his room for 12 hours, waking up the next morning in time for breakfast.

INT. HOTEL RESTAURANT

The air was dry and so was Gil's throat, so he asked the waitress to bring him a vat of freshly-squeezed orange juice and large glass of milk. He also ordered a bacon-and-cheddar omelet and a stack of pancakes to go along with the liquids. It was quite a feast for a man that had his last meal more than 24 hours ago. He was mentally and physically famished and there was no easy answer on how he would recharge his battery.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY

The idea of going on a planned tour with a group of people seemed like a good idea at first sight, but as the hours passed the likelihood of anything meaningful happening when surrounded by tourists seemed unlikely. The walk from his room on the fourth floor to the lobby seemed like forever. A crowd had gathered near the front door of the hotel, as if a giant had lifted the entire building and tilted the hotel toward the entrance. It took every fiber of Gil's being to resist walking the away and back to the bliss that denial and ignorance would bring. Unbeknownst to Gil, a tour guide had cast a net for all stragglers and snuck up behind him.

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

Are you with the Native American tour?

GIL COHEN

(Hesitates at first and looks back at the elevator to see if there's still time to escape) Yes, I am with the tour.

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

Then it's time to get on the bus to visit our Native American friends.

EXT. HOTEL ENTRAnCE

It was still fairly early in the morning and there was a chill in the air that the blazing desert sun would soon take away. The tour guide looked down at Gil's jacket, which was draped over his right arm.

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

You might want to put that on.

Gil quickly complied as he felt the cool wind brush over the exposed skin on his arms, causing goose pumps to be generated en masse. He then piled into the coach bus with the other people from the hotel, most of which were looking more for commercialized artifacts than the meaning of life. Gil was even ready to settle for some sage advice that would guide him away from all of the misery in his life. Just a little nudge away from all of the negativity that had followed him like a rain cloud most of his personal life.

While on the bus, he day-dreamt about a possible response by a Native American elder to his dilemma.

NATIVE AMERICAN ELDER

Rain cloud not always bad. Feed crops and bring us food.

The first day's activities focused on much of the background information needed to fully absorb the remainder of this cultural tour. One of the tour guides, aptly named Amanda Blank for her stunning personality, stood up in front of the bus once it stopped at the reservation entrance. The fifty-something, ex-hippy and flower child, peered over the group like they were a bunch of fourth-graders about to take a planetarium by storm.

AMANDA BLANK

Now keep in mind people, these are ancient, hallowed grounds that we are privileged to be able to grace. You must abide by all local customs and traditions and only act when instructed to do so.

All Gil could think about was how and where he could go to the bathroom, so he imagined the woman saying...

AMANDA BLANK

If the urge to make a number one or number two comes up, we have an abundance of shovels under the bus for you to dig an ample hole in the ground. Our Native American friends welcome the addition of fresh feces to the already rich soil.

Instead of asking the question, Gil looked to the back of the bus and the civilized bathroom location he would be depositing any and all bowel movements for the remainder of the tour.

GIL COHEN

(The bus stops and Gil walks down the stairs of the bus and stares into the blank eye of a whole lot of flat and dry nothing and mutters) What the fuck?

At first glance, he couldn't believe that he paid a few thousand dollars to walk around an adult-sized sand box. People were amazed at what they were seeing and Gil wanted to either gouge his own eyes out, or get high off the second-hand fumes that he must have ignored on the bus. The day was an Native American history lesson and predictably ended with a trip to the teepee turned gift shop for some much-needed souvenirs.

Gil decided to venture out on his own, all the while wondering what the allure of this endless panorama of land held. Water after water did nothing to quench his thirst and quell the overpowering dryness of his throat. The morning chill had given way to the relentless mid-afternoon sun, effectively causing the entire tour group to duck for cover. All except for Gilbert Hodges Cohen, who decided to brave the elements with some SPF40 and his royal blue Brooklyn Dodgers hat, with the large white "B" announcing his birthright to the world.

Gil baked in the sun for at least 45 minutes before one of the tour guides noticed him looking listless and leaning to his left side. As she approached him, she noticed that he had a stupid grin on his face.

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

Are you all right, Mr. Cohen?

GIL COHEN

(His shirt is drenched with sweat and skin is mostly clammy as he struggles to straighten up from heat stroke) It's not so bad.

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

What's not so bad, Mr. Cohen?

GIL COHEN

(Glazed) Death.

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

(Hands him a bottle of Gatorade) Why is death not so bad?

GIL COHEN

(Takes a big swig of Gatorade) Because life wasn't so great.

The guide was speechless for perhaps the first time in her life, temporarily preferring an agape mouth to the gift of gab. Many people had come out to the hallowed ground in search of a higher meaning to life, but left with little more than chafed thighs and mementos that took up space in the back of a drawer or closet.

Gil boarded the bus before many of his fellow adventurers and quickly fell asleep before the bus even started rolling. His state of deep sleep opened the sky wide for a vivid dream that was a vast departure from his usual chase, lateness, or high school unconscious visions.

Somebody must have held a dream catcher over Gil's head because all of his bad dreams skimmed through the net and only the fluffy marshmallow filling was left to filter through the feather. While the corporeal Gil was still asleep on the bus, his hallucinatory form woke up and looked around and the empty vehicle. He walked down the four bus steps and shielded his eyes from a fierce wind that was kicking up dirt and eliminating any potential visibility. Gil pulled down his baseball hat as far as it could go and extended his right arm to shield the potentially damaging impact from his eyes. After struggling to find his way, Gil looked back toward the bus but it was gone.

GIL COHEN

(Yells in frustration) Why can't I see where I'm going?

In an instant, the wind calmed and the abundance of dust settled back into the ground. Out of the landscape an ethereal Native American woman appeared wearing classic garb. Her very sight instantly captivating Gil and he tried to move closer but his legs were no longer capable of making progress.

NATIVE AMERICAN WOMAN AS VISION

(Smiles) Make sure you follow the right wind to my heart. (As heaven-like clouds surround her form as her image fades away)

GIL COHEN

What does that mean? What wind?

He then turned around to see the bus reappear behind him.

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

Please get back on the bus, Mr. Cohen.

GIL COHEN

(Yells) I don't want to get back on the bus! I want to follow the wind! I don't want to get back on the bus! I just want to follow her wind!

One of the tour guides walked up and gently jostled his right shoulder, awakening him from his deep slumber.

GIL COHEN

Where am I?

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

We are back to the hotel, Mr. Cohen. Are you feeling better?

GIL COHEN

(Rubs his eyes and looks up at the woman) Yes, I believe I'm feeling better.

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

(Escorts Gil off the bus) Did you find your wind?

GIL COHEN

(Slightly embarrassed) You heard that?

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

(Jokes) I think they heard you in Albuquerque.

Gil dragged his weary body back to his room and took a long, soaking shower. He decided to pick up a sandwich and then watch the sun set from the terrace. In between the hotel lobby and the terrace, he spied a hammock gently swinging under some shade trees. Months of sleep deprivation and overflowing emotions had led Gil to complete physical and emotional bankruptcy. Any opportunity became a good opportunity to close his eyes and go away for a while.

The breeze under the trees felt much softer, almost caressing, than the whipping winds of the open plains. Gil straddled the hammock and slowly leaned back and then moved his legs together until he was resting comfortably. His sandwich rested comfortably on the middle of his rib cage as the intoxicating sway of the hammock lulled him to rest within the time it takes to eat a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup.

Dream catchers seemed to follow Gil in his every move while in Arizona. It was either faddish intention on the hotel and tour group's part, or just a connected, spiritual guide in his life journey. While Gil's body rested his mind continued to play an edgier version of his future. When he awoke in the spiritual world, he was munching on a sandwich and watching the intense sunset while sitting on the terrace.

NATIVE AMERICAN WOMAN AS VISION

(From behind him) Beautiful isn't it.

Gil was unable to turn his head around so he kept eating what seemed like an endless meatball sandwich, commonly named a hero in the New York area

NATIVE AMERICAN WOMAN AS VISION

Do you ever get tired of eating that sandwich?

GIL COHEN

(Smiles) No, I could eat these all day, every day.

He then closed his eyes to take another bite but the sandwich disappeared. The women then walked in front of him.

GIL COHEN

It's you again.

NATIVE AMERICAN WOMAN AS VISION

Yes, it's me again. (She is wearing a coat made of buffalo hide) I have a question to ask you and I want you to think about it before you give me an answer.

Gil nodded in agreement, but he was a New Yorker and it was his undying duty to react quickly and spout out the first thing that came into mind.

NATIVE AMERICAN WOMAN AS VISION

Is love the answer?

GIL COHEN

(Jokes) What's the question?

NATIVE AMERICAN WOMAN AS VISION

(Repeats her question) Is love the answer?

The woman disappears into the clouds.

GIL COHEN

(Frustrated) Is love the answer? What the hell does that mean?

Moments later, the dream continued as he awoke from his sleep and it was dark outside. There was no sandwich on his chest and he slowly rose to his feet. Gil looked down and noticed that had no shoes on, although he remembered leaving his room in a pair of shoes. When he picked his head up he was staring face to face with an angry coyote, or maybe it was a wolf, but he couldn't tell. He didn't know whether he should run or go directly at the beast, so he started singing a song he made up from an old popular song.

GIL COHEN

Do you know the way to Santa Fe, I've been away so long that I can't stay away.

The creature then morphed back into the familiar woman that had been visiting him in his dreams.

NATIVE AMERICAN WOMAN AS VISION

What is your answer, Gilbert? **Is** love the answer?

GIL COHEN

(Thinks deeply for a few seconds) Yes, love **is** the answer.

NATIVE AMERICAN WOMAN AS VISION

(Smiles) Very good. You're ready to move on to the next star. (Fades away and we her only her voice) Love will complete the circle.

GIL COHEN

(In desperation) The next star? What do you mean? Complete the circle?

He then woke up as the last flickers of the sun set over the heat of the plains. The dreams seemed so real and so vivid, but he quickly came back to reality when he realized the sandwich on his chest in a container was filled with turkey instead of his favorite meatballs. The dryness of the turkey made him long for both the mouth-watering taste of the meatballs and the next time his eyes closed and his adventure continued.

INT. GIL's HOTEL ROOM

The dreams occurred each time Gil closed his eyes and faded off to sleep. Many of the images presented to him over the next few days were largely muted and jumbled and provided very little insight. This lack of progress was starting to frustrate him until he got a more cohesive message in the morning before he woke up.

NATIVE AMERICAN WOMAN AS VISION

Hear the song of the earth. Listen with the people.

GIL COHEN

(Wakes up and speaks to the audience) The red people are wise but they could use some guidance on simplifying the message.

INT. HOTEL RESTAURANT

Gil sat with a few people from the group at breakfast but could have been miles away sitting at a table by himself. "Listen with the people?" kept ringing in his ears until he went into the bathroom to splash some cool water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror, black circles under his stressed eyes. He had indeed seen too much and not enough at the same time in his life. There was still much to learn and experience, so he gained some clarity and did the first thing that came to his mind.

GIL COHEN

(Asks a tour guide as he gestures toward the out of doors) Do you ever have anyone that wants to stay out there instead of in here?

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

It doesn't happen very often, but we are happy to set up the introduction. To bring the horse to water, if you will.

GIL COHEN

(Smiles) Does everyone out here talk this way?

WHITE FEMALE TOUR GUIDE

(Breaks character) Yeah, pretty much.

EXT. Native american hiking trail

A rigorous hike was scheduled for the fourth day. The collective fitness level of the group was about equal to people sitting in their cars waiting on the Krispy Kreme Doughnut drive-thru line late at night. Of the group of 30 people, only seven decided to go on the hike, with the remaining 23 people opting for the alternative plan that included making corn cakes and participating in Native American craft making. While Gil's fitness level was questionable, his heart and desire to complete the task were admirable. The group of seven also included a few tour guides and a Native American guide they called Yuma.

YUMA

(Moves his long walking stick around the red clay beneath the hiker's feet) My name means 'Son of a chief'. The red dirt tells our story, sings a song for all to hear. (He bends down and picks up a handful of the dirt) You all bend down and pick up a piece of our life and listen for the chanting, the singing, the appreciation for all that is living.

The members of the party each picked up a handful of dirt and then raised it to their ears.

YUMA

(Looks at Gil) What song do you hear?

GIL COHEN

(Smiles) Through the Fire. Yes, it's definitely Through the Fire.

The reference evaded everyone and Gil was sure Yuma would pass over him to ask the next person.

YUMA

(Leans over and whispers to Gil) Chaka Khan is my favorite. Really like the older stuff she did with Rufus.

The group was filled with experienced hikers and the guides pretty much knew the route by heart, so they took the lead while Yuma and Gil brought up the rear.

YUMA

I can tell by your eyes that you're hearing the voices.

GIL COHEN

I thought I was crazy at first, but now I'm starting to decode the messages faster. But, I still feel so far away from any true meaning.

YUMA

(Half-jesting) You should try mixing Valium with a Budweiser chaser? (Gets serious) I heard you were thinking about roughing it for a few days.

GIL COHEN

Yes. I was told in a dream to hear the song of the earth by listening with the people. Do you live on the reservation?

YUMA

(Breaks character) Yeah, but I have a house in the hills about a half-hour from here. I'm not much for outdoor living.

GIL COHEN

(Detects a familiar accent) You from around here.

YUMA

No, I'm from a little village just off the island of Manhattan. The natives call it Brooklyn.

Gil was both elated and relieved to be talking to a fellow Brooklyn native.

YUMA

Yeah, I noticed your jacket a few days ago but I've seen a lot of that back in the day stuff around here so I didn't think much of approaching you.

GIL COHEN

Well, I'm glad we got to talk.

The two men talked all day and Yuma then invited Gil back to his house for dinner once the group finished the hike. It had been years since Yuma had invited a tourist back to his place and even longer since he opened up to a complete stranger. The Native American community was strong and tight, which left very little margin for genuine trust and consideration for the outside world.

YUMA

Why don't we pick up a pizza on the way to the cabin? I know a great spot down the road. The guy moved out here from New York and if you closed your eyes and drank a few beers, you would swear that it almost tasting like a New York slice.

GIL COHEN

I could use a good slice and a beer.

Slice after pizza slice was devoured until there were scant crumbs and a half-a-piece of crust.

INT. YUMA's HOUSE

GIL COHEN

That's some good pizza! Thank you!

YUMA

(Nods) It's the best pizza this side of Flatbush Avenue.

GIL COHEN

It is awfully quiet up here. How do you stand the silence?

YUMA

It's an acquired taste. My wife definitely added a lot of life to this house, because I'm not much for entertaining.

Gil had looked around the hallway leading up to the bathroom and had seen a few pictures on the wall of Yuma and a woman. Although he was curious who this woman was, he decided that he would not be the one to broach the subject.

GIL COHEN

How long has it been?

YUMA

Two years. You?

GIL COHEN

(Surprised that Yuma put the pieces together so quickly) A few months.

YUMA

Cancer?

GIL COHEN

Lou Gehrig's Disease.

YUMA

Oooh! ALS is a tough one.

GIL COHEN

Yuma?

YUMA

(Smiles) My real name is Nate Bernstein. My dad was a full Iroquois Indian and my mom was as Jewish as matzoh balls and latkes. I used my mom's maiden name because we thought it would be easier.

GIL COHEN

(Laughs from kinship as they clank glass beer bottles) It's a pleasure to meet you, my brother.

YUMA

No, the pleasure is mine.

With only two days of the trip left, Gil decided to dig deep and check out a few spots that Nate "Yuma" Bernstein had recommended. It was nearly impossible to gain the full flavor of the Native American community without an "all access" pass. Nonetheless, Gil spent the next few days walking and walking and then walking some more. The pain in his legs, however, paled in comparison to the pain he was holding onto for dear life in his heart. He could have walked for weeks, or even months, without even acknowledging his personal redirected angst. Gil found a kindred spirit in Yuma, but this connection did little to detangle all of the crossed lines in his mind. After spending a second consecutive day outside the tour group, he decided to visit Yuma before heading out on his flight back to New York the next day. He knocked on Yuma's front door as the last flickers of the day quickly turned into the night.

INT. YUMA'S HOUSE

YUMA

Brother! What brings you back to my ground?

GIL COHEN

(Lowers his head) I don't know.

YUMA

Well, why don't you come in and maybe we can make sense of it before the coyotes make a meal out of you.

The fact was that Yuma liked the company, especially if it was someone he had genuine respect for. Growing up in New York and hearing names like "half-breed" were quite confusing for a pre-teen that was trying to simply fit in. Acceptance for a kid who looked like the Lone Ranger's sidekick Tonto and was named Nate Bernstein was a difficult task. His mother was unwavering in her desire to send him to Hebrew School at the local temple, so Nate was thrown in with a bunch of kids that questioned every square peg that didn't fit into each round hole. The ridiculing became so prevalent that the Bernstein's decided to leave the comfort of their Brooklyn apartment and head west to the acceptance of their people. Being a mixed couple always seemed to impede Onatah and Beth Bernstein. Onatah means "of the earth" in Iroquois, although his Americanized name was Nate and his father's last name was Thorpe. Nate's great grandfather was none other than multi-sport hero Jim Thorpe, and the weight of the name caused subsequent generations to veil their heritage with the last name of their spouses. While the public knew Yuma as Nate Bernstein, the government knew him as Onatah Eli Thorpe.

YUMA

(The next morning) I'll drive you to the airport. What time is your flight?

Gil was having trouble leaving because his brain had been flooded with a catalogue of emotions and thoughts that all decided to test him at the same time.

GIL COHEN

(Stops as he reaches the front door of the house) Just give me a minute.

He looked out on the dry plains and thought that there wasn't much to this part of the country, that it was more of a spiritual journey than just a relaxing stroll down the beach. In reality, Gil needed a lot more than watching the waves roll in, or sitting in a leather cushioned chair talking to an overpaid, pampered Park Avenue shrink. Words only seemed to diminish his potential impact on the community, and his future direction in life.

GIL COHEN

(Walks back toward Yuma) Yu, I think I'm gonna' stay.

YUMA

Still much work left to be done.

GIL COHEN

(Nods) Yes, much work.

Yuma had special plans for that day, and was quietly hoping that Gil would welcome the heat of the sun and follow the stars to exchange the chaos of many minds into the divine wisdom of just one. He had spent many days alone since the death of his wife and found neither comfort nor peace in the traffic jam of thoughts currently parked in his head. It took the raw energy of a pale-faced stranger to reignite the flame of the future inside of Yuma. He wasn't sure why this man, over all other that had crossed his path over the years, was truly special and worthy of taking the walk of the elders.

Questioning fate was as far from the cultural norm as possible, with disrespecting the earth, the sea, the sky as spiritual impracticalities as well. Yuma's acquaintances in the nearby tribe always played it very close to the vest and rarely ever let the white man into their every daily lives. The Navajo leaders were even lukewarm to Yuma in the early days, as they were wary to his white ways and non-reservation background.

INT./EXT. DRIving in YUMA's car

YUMA

Let me give you a word of advice. If you try too hard, these people will turn the other way. But, if you don't try hard enough, they won't respect you, either.

GIL COHEN

(Shoots Yuma a 'Thanks for nothing" glance) I'll try to keep whatever you just said in mind.

Since no official schedule was in place, Yuma arranged for the eldest member of the tribe, Sani, to spend some time with them. Sani's skin had been weathered by the sun and his face resembled an old leather wallet that had been worn smooth by use. His watery eyes signaled that his strongest days were behind him but, perhaps, better days were to come. His wide-brimmed hat was designed to shield his eyes from the sun but did little more than frame a face that could have been dropped in the middle of a Native American postage stamp.

EXT. NAVAJO RESERVATION

Sani was sitting on a tree stump in the shade when Gil and Yuma approached him. Yuma nodded at Sani and he quickly glanced at the two men.

SANI

(Smiles) Yuma. Bilagaana Niichad.

English was a distant second language for Sani, so Yuma translated.

YUMA

He just called you a swollen white person.

Gil look surprised and a bit hurt.

YUMA

Don't take it personal, these people have a real dry sense of humor.

Sani then went on to recount two life tales for Gil in Dine, the Navajo language. Gil focused on Yuma's translation.

SANI/YUMA

There is an ancient god named Gaoh. He is the giant in charge of the four winds. (Sani points to his right) The North is like the paws of the bear, blustery and rough. (He gestures behind him) The East is like a moose, all wet and dreary. (Points straight ahead) The West wind moves like a panther, not completely reliable. (Looks to his left) But the South wind is gentle and soft like a fawn. Choosing direction will take wind and life. (Sani has a sharp knife in his right hand and a stick in his left hand. He is honing the object with each passing word) The ancients believed there were four worlds of the Navajo. The East is our direction of thought and houses the dawn. When the sun comes up we look to the East for a glimpse of the day. Before we do anything we should always think. The day is planned in the world of the South. This decides where we go and what we do. The sun sets in the West, a place where we do our living, a place where we act out the thoughts from our thinking in the South and East. North is the world of reflection, of making changes for the better, of seeing if we are on the right path. The cycle is repeated each day. There are lessons to be learned from each cycle. Each dawn is a new start, a new beginning. We may fall in the day, but then we stand back up and see what we can do differently the next day. Doesn't matter what you did yesterday, the sun starts life new again. (Points to the ground and then the sky) Mother Earth and Father Sky love us. They give us the chance every morning to start anew. The Creator answers our prayers in the early morning, as we ask for guidance to help us through the day. (He hands the stick to Gil, which has the four directions carved into it. Gil accepts the stick and nods in thanks to Sani) You can't move forward until you know where you've been and where you're going. The stick is just a stick unless you're open to its power, open to this power. (Points to his head) Open to the power of Mother Earth and Father Sky.

INT. YUMA's house - LATER THAT DAY

YUMA

(Tried to temper Gil's exuberance) You got to chill, bro'. I think you shot up from the earth to the sky too quickly.

GIL COHEN

I'm just caught up in the moment. It's not every day that you here such a clear vision of the future.

YUMA

(Under his breath) At least not for you. (Out loud) I was afraid that all of this information would have the Starbucks effect on you.

GIL COHEN

The Starbucks Effect?

YUMA

(Rolls his eyes) Like you've been injected with a few gallons of coffee.

Yuma was worried that Gil was looking for any grain of motivation in his life to act upon, and this rash decision-making could lead him down the wrong path, the wrong world, being guided by a mistaken wind.

GIL COHEN

Are you upset that I am happy?

YUMA

(Hands up) Easy there, Brooklyn! I'm saying that it's never as easy as an old tale or a story of the gods. You must clean up what is behind you first before you can expect to profit from that knowledge in the future.

Gil nods his head in comprehension.

YUMA

Sani makes everything sound easy, but it is the struggle that led him to all of that understanding.

The past ran through Gil's mind like a rerun of an old TV show, and was now fading in impact with each passing day. Yuma, on the other hand, had wallowed in the pain of losing his wife for years. Living in the house he and his wife packed with so many memories wasn't helping his cause, either.

GIL COHEN

Do you still miss your wife?

Yuma smiles and then a tear rolls down the left side of his face.

GIL COHEN

I'll take that as a yes.

YUMA

How about you?

GIL COHEN

(Reflects briefly) No, I'm good.

Yuma thought he understood his younger charge until that moment when Gil dismissed his feelings. He then shot Gil a look that only a father could dispatch to a son. Gil had seen that look many times before and, as usual, had thought of a fire extinguishing response.

GIL COHEN

What? Why is that so hard to believe?

YUMA

Because you seem to be a fairly genuine guy. Didn't you love your wife?

GIL COHEN

(Smiles and then a tear rolls down the left side of his face) What's love got to do with it? loved her, but she was the meanest, least caring person I have ever met.

YUMA

(Stands up from the couch and literally scratches his head) If that's the case then why are you so lost? I looked you up on the Internet the other night. Seems as though you were quite a successful business man.

GIL COHEN

I'm questioning the personal choices I've made in life. You looked me up on the Internet? Why would you do that?

Yuma's initial question was merely to create an opening for what was really on his mind. His paranoia had finally got the best of him.

YUMA

Do you know who I really am?

Gil was such a trusting soul. When someone spoke to him, he would take the words at face value unless actions and subsequent words through him completely off the trail. Nate "Yuma" Bernstein had a unique story, a story that was twisted enough to be believable. He backed up on the couch and sat up at attention so he would be in position to make a run for it if he had to.

YUMA

I would imagine that you're probably faster than me, so running from a defenseless old man would only get you cold and lost.

GIL COHEN

You're making my spidey-sense tingle. Why would you be someone different than you already said?

YUMA

So, you really don't know anything about my family?

GIL COHEN

What family? The Bernstein's? Didn't you grow up in Brooklyn?

YUMA

(Laughs) Yes, all of that is true. I just have to know if you are here for work or a life mission?

Gil laughs hysterically. His eyes fill with happy tears.

YUMA

What's so funny?

GIL COHEN

(Wipes his tears away) Are you thinking about turning pro? I hear there are many teams look for veteran's to sure up the locker room.

With that, Yuma joined his friend in laughter, knowing that the continuous flow of agents and reporters sent to watch his nephew since he was 10 years old was a persistent source of irritation to the tribe. Being a descendent of the great Jim Thorpe was just as much a news story as a potential multi-million client, but this had absolutely nothing to do with Gil living in his house. Or did it?

Yuma and Gil awoke early every morning and went for a multi-mile walk before the sun's powers were in full force. Yuma had been depressed for more than a year and had let his body get into a state of disrepair, which could be replicated by a tub of cottage cheese or a plate of jiggling Jell-O.

EXT. TAKING A WALK

GIL COHEN

It feels good to be among the living again.

YUMA

Oh, you think you're alive after only one week? Just wait to see what I have set up for you.

They are drinking water on Yuma's porch after the hike.

GIL COHEN

So, what do the good people of Arizona do for fun?

YUMA

(Knew that Gil's libido had been reengaged, so he went sarcastic) What do I look like, a Native American pimp? (Then he answered the question) There's a bar about an hour from here that many of the locals go to. Our proud history has transformed us into drunks and gamblers.

And Gil looked at Yuma to suggest, "Ask a stupid question, get an equally-stupid answer.

After showering, Gill received a text from his protege, Stanley. The mentor sprinkled some sought-after advice to his charge:

*There's no such thing as closing a deal. The business is all about relationships, not convincing people to take you on as your agent.*

*Always be available.*

*Never lose sight that the five percent across the table is a person, not a paycheck.*

*Trust is 50% comfort, and 50% need... but people need to feel comfortable.*

After dealing with Stanley, Yuma gave his own words of advice before he brought Gil in front of the elders.

YUMA

Let me prep you on this meeting.

The were shooting baskets at a local basketball court. Yuma's one-handed push shot was a bit outdated, so he offered a "friendly" pointer.

GIL COHEN

Who taught you that shot, Bob Cousy? Not that Bob wasn't one of the greatest players ever to walk this earth... Here. (Positions Yuma's hands in a more caressing position on the seams of the leather ball. Bring it up to your forehead and spin it.

Despite being the mentor of the duo, Yuma took to the instruction without hesitation. The ball spun through the dry Arizona air and nestled into the net, barreling tickling the rim on the way past.

YUMA

(Excited) Not bad! You're a good teacher.

GIL COHEN

Good students make good teachers.

YUMA

Yes, they do.

They sat down on a bench and talked after playing for a while.

GIL COHEN

So, what's the scoop on this meeting tonight?

YUMA

It's no big deal, just a bunch of people coming together to start a new Arian race.

GIL COHEN

(Confused at first) Ok, Adolph. Why don't you start that meeting without me. I need time to get a head start.

YUMA

They're real serious at these meetings so, if I were you, I would wait a few weeks before you open your mouth.

The phrase "if I were you" was often the spark that propelled most sane people to act rather than conform to conventional wisdom. Yuma even knew that his well-placed words would propel Gil to step forward and cause him to speak completely and inappropriately out of turn. But he thought this brash move would get Gil noticed.

INT. Yuma's house - later that day

GIL COHEN

What's the dress code for this event?

YUMA

Reservation casual.

Gil laughed because he brought one suitcase on the trip and all he had were "reservation casual" clothes.

EXT. NAVAJO RESERVATION

Once at the reservation, Yuma greeted a few locals and Gil followed him to a patch of open sand that was only a few feet from a huge bonfire setup.

YUMA

(They sit down and he turns to Gil and whispers) The heat from the fire extracts the truth.

Yuma was great at pulling coherent thoughts out of his ass whenever the occasion called for it. In actuality, the meeting attendees sat so close to the fire because they would be bitten alive by mosquitoes if they sat further away. The extreme heat of the fire kept any and all pests at bay.

More than 100 mostly Native American people ringed the fire as an elderly man walked up to the pile of wood with a lit torch.

ELDERLY NATIVE AMERICAN MAN

Let the fire that burned within our ancestors burn within us on this night.

Another man, who looked as old as time itself, started talking low in a Native American language. His words were not audible to the crowd, so a younger interpreter, his grandson, was his public voice.

RUNNING BEAR/SILVER FISH

Running Bear is worried about our future as a nation. He sees children ignoring the land, the sea, and the sky in favor of boxes of fantasy. How will they learn about our struggles and what we believe in? How will they learn the lessons of youth? Who among us can address this problem?

Running Bear and Silver Fish, looked around waiting for a reply.

MIDDLE-AGED NAVAJO MAN

(Stands up) The answer is in our hearts, our souls.

Several other people offered vague suggestions, so Gil leaned over and started whispering to Yuma.

RUNNING BEAR/SILVER FISH

(His grandfather notices Gil and raises his voice slightly) There are no secrets here, my friend!

GIL COHEN

(Reluctantly stands up after looking over at Yuma and getting the okay) Why don't you take the game away.

The circle grew quiet for a moment of reflection until Running Bear smiled and shook his head and uttered a few words and the crowd broke out in raucous laughter.

GIL COHEN

(Turns to Yuma) What did he say?

YUMA

You really want to know?

GIL COHEN

Yeah!

YUMA

The white man and his shortcuts.

Gil was even more confused than if he heard the actual words come from Running Bear's mouth. His first instinct was to walk right over to Running Bear and seek clarification.

YUMA

(Extends his arm across Gil's chest) Not today, big man. Not today. Your time will come.

Indeed, the white man had a way of jumping to a solution without going through the necessary steps needed to complete the task. Gil picked up his head, but it took him a while to process the words in their entirety.

Another week went by, but Gil had not spiritually left the meeting place. Being a white man, he had neither the patience nor the discipline to wrap his arms around a suitable solution to the "riddle" of the previous week. Yuma could sense that Gil was tense and tried to joke with him to no avail.

YUMA

(Just before the bonfire was lit, he leaned over and said to Gil) Do not search for the answer, let it come to you.

The meeting started the same way as the previous one, and then the focus shifted to Running Bear whose words are translated into English as he spoke.

RUNNING BEAR/SILVER FISH

Welcome, friends. As the sun sets and our ancestors dot the sky, I have experienced much reflection since our last gathering. First, I wanted to apologize to our new friend that joined us last week. (They look at Gil) We must be more open to the contribution of others if we ever want to advance as a people, a nation.

Everyone around the circle nodded in agreement and then nodded at Gil as a welcome.

RUNNING BEAR/SILVER FISH

How do we reach our youth?

Answer after answer was revealed to the general indifference of the group's leader. It was about 20 minutes of semi-Americanized campaigning, and Running Bear had heard enough. He looked over at Gil.

RUNNING BEAR/SILVER FISH

Take your best shot, Dolphin Surfer.

Gil slowly unfolded his large frame and the answer came to him in an instant, as the blood redistributed through his body.

GIL COHEN

Sports!

Yuma smiled as he saw Running Bear's aged face light up.

RUNNING BEAR/SILVER FISH

So it will be.

Gil then made his way over to Running Bear with Yuma as his translator. He was quickly realizing that the answers would come to him without having to waste time asking pointless questions. Normally, he would have walked up to Running Bear and inquired, "Why Dolphin Surfer?" but instead waited for the obvious explanation.

RUNNING BEAR/SILVER FISH

In the liquid life, dolphins are our greatest protectors. They are also the cleverest beings in the sea, but they have a playful side. When the surf is at its highest, the blue dolphin surfs the waves. They feel the tide and swim with the current, instead of against it. (Running Bear then reaches up, placing his large, tanned and worn hands on either side of Gill's face, much the way Gil's grandfather would show his love) I see a greatness in love in you, Dolphin Surfer. You will bring great joy to the tribe. (He gives Gil a love tap on the side of his face with his right hand, nods at Yuma and then slowly walks away with Silver Fish by his side)

INT. RUNNING BEAR'S HOUSE

Running Bear and his wife, Golden Sunset, sit down on aged wood table that Running Bear carved with his own hands.

RUNNING BEAR

The white man surprised me today.

GOLDEN SUNSET

How so? (She sets a large bowl on the table)

RUNNING BEAR

Dolphin Surfer. (He gently taps his fist against his heart)

GOLDEN SUNSET

One who has heart of dolphin will surely be loyal to tribe.

RUNNING BEAR

I see it deep in his eyes, his soul.

GOLDEN SUNSET

Is he the right one?

RUNNING BEAR

(Nods) I believe it is so.

The couple sat at their kitchen table in relative silence for the rest of the meal, letting their clear thoughts fill up the room in place of words. After more than half-a-century, conversations were merely another bridge to the connection they had established. Golden Sunset knew by the calmness in her husband's voice that he had a good day, and Running Bear knew by the daily glow in his wife's eyes that they were joined spirits. On the wall behind Running Bear was a vibrant painting of an intense Arizona sunset with a faint rendering of his wife's eyes in the foreground. It was only one of hundreds of Native American-inspired paintings that he had completed in his life. Only a few of the paintings had been sold for charity over the years, so the chief was still a relatively undiscovered artist.

EXT. GIL AND YUMA ON A MORNING WALK

GIL COHEN

I thought it went pretty well last night.

YUMA

Don't get too full of yourself, superstar. The only way to succeed in this community is to stay humble.

GIL COHEN

(Shrugs off the comment) So, what's the deal with Running Bear? How long as he been chief?

YUMA

He's been chief for the last 20 years. What makes him such a good leader is his ability to adapt and learn from his mistakes. The chief of old was an exalted warrior that fought and won many physical battles, while the chief of today has to be like a chess grandmaster capable of enduring mental dilemma after mental dilemma.

GIL COHEN

Is that why he apologized to me?

YUMA

(Fights back a smile) Yes, that was part of it. (Leaves the door open for a continuation of the discussion)

GIL COHEN

What's the other part of it?

YUMA

You came back.

GIL COHEN

What do you mean, I came back?

YUMA

(Struggles to come up with something) He admires strength and determination in people. Most outsiders are one-and-done in those meetings.

GIL COHEN

(Wasn't buying it) So, all you have to do is show up a couple of times and you can earn instant respect?

YUMA

It's more about who you are than what you say. Let's just leave it at that.

GIL COHEN

Okay.

Week after week passed as Gil developed his plan to inject sports into the youth of the tribe. Of course, baseball would be prominent in his plan, but he made a conscious decision to limit football to flag football until the kids got exposure in middle school. This would give their bodies a chance to more fully develop and alleviate the accumulated punishment associated with the game.

Gil also threw in basketball, track, soccer, volleyball, field hockey, and lacrosse programs. Lacrosse being the obvious choice because Native Americans invented the game. He also made sure that there was little distinction between boys and girls programs. There had been many studies that lauded the advantages of mixing the sexes at an early age. This fostered a more cooperative and respectful interaction amongst kids as the years progressed.

Even though it had been several months since Gil was a practicing agent, he still had contacts in the sports world he could call on. He was never one to cash in favors, preferring to be a giver instead of a taker. He had a few contacts at Nike, Rawlings, STX, and he knew a guy at Umbro.

EXT. YUMA's CAR ON THE WAY TO A MEETING

YUMA

So, what's this project going to cost?

GIL COHEN

1.5 million, give or take a few hundred thousand.

YUMA

Do we have enough sponsorships to bridge the gap?

GIL COHEN

(Smirks) We're close. I'll talk about it at the meeting tonight.

EXT. THURSDAY NIGHT TRIBE MEETING

RUNNING BEAR/SILVER FISH

Where are we with the schedule for the athletics projects?

GIL COHEN

(Stands up) We are on target to have everything up and running by the fall.

The group clapped in excitement

RUNNING BEAR/SILVER FISH

Have we been able to secure enough financing for the project?

The momentary euphoria was quickly replaced with a deafening silence - the kind of silence similar to crowds waiting to see the outcome of a big putt in golf or a last-second shot in basketball. Gil knew they were still at least a few hundred-thousand dollars away from their funding requirements, but knew a thing or two about making things happen.

GIL COHEN

It just so happens that an anonymous donor plans to make good on any costs we can't cover from donations, funding, and sponsorships. So, it's full steam ahead!

Gil raised his hands in victory in response to deafening applause.

YUMA

(Stands up to clap and nudges Gil) Can you get that kind of money to cover it?

GIL COHEN

(Smiles) Yeah, it's just sitting in my bank account gathering dust. (Kept talking before Yuma could fully process the preceding comment) Oh, and by the way, I called your bank this morning and paid off your mortgage.

Yuma's eyes widened and instantly filled with tears as he hugged his friend. Gil then walked around accepting congratulations, hugs, and handshakes.

SILVER FISH

Do you think he's trying to buy us off?

YUMA

I don't know. All I know is that man is my brother. From what I hear, he's as straight as they come.

SILVER FISH

Then let's enjoy the harvest we've been bestowed with.

YUMA

An abundant one at that.

The construction of the facilities went along smoothly throughout the summer, to the point that completion was now in sight. Yuma couldn't help but notice that Gil had been working himself to the bone, so he approached his friend one morning.

INT./EXT. YUMA's HOUSE and THEN HIS CAR

YUMA

You need to get out and see the world, my friend.

GIL COHEN

(On his iPad) Wow, I am locked in. Did you say something, Yu?

YUMA

Walks toward the door and gently grabs Gil's arm) I think it's time you see why the sun aligned with the moon and the stars when you walked on our hallowed ground.

Gil was all set to resist and reply, but he had learned to back up and think before he spoke. Although the New Yorker in him fought this battle every day, the Native American in him was starting to win the battle.

YUMA

They know you'll be at the site a little later. Let's take a drive.

They got into the car.

YUMA

Do you want to know where we're going?

GIL COHEN

(Diplomatically) It doesn't matter, as long as we're together.

Yuma was caught off-guard by his friend's reply. The two men had become inseparable in their months together. What started off as an assignment-of-sorts for Yuma had turned into a true friendship. A friendship that neither man could have expected, nor counted on to last.

Yuma always got a hold of the incoming roster of tourists and was informally assigned to perform an Internet search to search for anomalies. He usually found little or no information aside from the occasional on-line recipe or obscure reference. One morning, however, he did a search for "Gilbert Cohen" and a few pages of information popped up, so he pressed on.

The information was especially impactful, at least on the surface. The parade of sports agents that had come through in recent years resembled more of an insurance convention than a carnival. The tribe had a no-agent policy when it came to the handful of athletes that garnered attention.

Yuma pulled up to a small house.

YUMA

We're here. Buckle up, superstar.

GIL COHEN

(Joking) Do you want me to get out or buckle up, oh wise one?

They emerged from the car and walked toward the house.

YUMA

Make sure you eat everything on your plate. Chief doesn't like people on the outside of the clean plate club.

GIL COHEN

(Under his breath) Chief? I hear he makes good omelettes.

Omelettes were not on the menu, but bagels and cream cheese were.

RUNNING BEAR

(Puts lox on the top of his bagel) I hear this puts hair on your chest. Salmon helped sustain us when I was young. Swimming against the current is hard but noble. Such a strong fish made our insides healthy. (Transitioned from small talk to the business at hand) I could talk about fish all day, but that not why we're here. My great grandson has a scrimmage tonight. It would be a mikvah...

Yuma leaned over and whispered to Running Bear.

RUNNING BEAR

It would be a mitzvah if you could go see him play.

GIL COHEN

(Smiles) It would be my pleasure, Running Bear.

And then Gil looked over at Yuma and he was smiling.

YUMA

(Nods at Running Bear) Anything is possible. (Turns to Gil) Anything is possible. Now eat your bagel.

The state champs, Arizona Southern High School, agreed to play the local team, Red Hills Academy, in a controlled scrimmage. The coach of Arizona Southern High School, Tom Savage, made some derogatory comments the previous year, and the practice game was largely seen as a public relations move.

His statement, "Reds are always yellow" hit the Native American community's fairly hard.

On the way to the brand new pro-turf field, Yuma briefed Gil on the history and significance of the night.

EXT. YUMA'S CAR ON THE WAY TO THE GAME (TWILIGHT)

GIL COHEN

Sounds like fighting words to me.

YUMA

That's the quandary for us. If we do nothing, then we are backing down. But, if we pick up our hands, then we have learned nothing from our dealings with the white man.

GIL COHEN

There's no room for fighting in sports. You gotta' leave it on the field.

Yuma parked his car in the lot adjacent to the field and the two men emerged from the car.

GIL COHEN

I'll be right back.

Gil walks into the school to find a bathroom. He takes off his jacket and after a few minutes, he emerges from the toilet and washes his hands vigorously. He then slips his royal blue jacket back on and secures his "B" hat on his head. Gil turns to go back outside and walks through the back door of the gymnasium, which was open for exit but closed for entry. He walks a few hundred yards toward the football field when fate interrupted his path toward Yuma. Gil stands directly in the path of a tidal wave of players coming at him from both directions.

In the distance, the Arizona Southern Cardinals, wearing their home black and gold uniforms, were gathering speed like an angry herd forming a stampede. Gil turned and was surprised to see the Red Hills Academy Buffalo's only a few feet from him. The team was led by a tall, lanky kid wearing the number 12 emblazoned across his chest with red and gold accents.

GIL COHEN

(Extending his arms toward the Red Hills team and, specifically, #12) Woe! You don't want to do that!

It took the team a few seconds to collectively stop only a couple of steps from Gil. Meanwhile, the Arizona Southern team was closing ground like a lion tracking a zebra.

KELLY THORPE

You better move!

GIL COHEN

(to Kelly Thorpe, #12) Stay here!

Gil turned and started running toward the Arizona Southern swarm. Not only didn't the Cardinals stop, they ran him over like a squirrel trying to cross a main road. Gil was knocked unconscious but he did accomplish his goal: he stopped the brawl. Once the testosterone abated slightly the focus shifted to Gil, which gave time for coaches and administrators to move in and separate the teams.

Yuma ran over to Gil and pulled a red root out of his pocket, snapped it in half, and then quickly waved it under Gil's nose. Gil sat up quickly, acting startled as if an air horn had awoken him from a Rip Van Winkle-like slumber.

GIL COHEN

(Gil, even semi-conscious, never was at a loss for a sense of humor) Did anyone get the number of that train?

The laughter turned to applause as Gil was slowly helped to his feet.

GIL COHEN

(He looked around the crowd that circled him and exclaimed) We settle this on the field, gentlemen!

The players slowly dispersed, some patting Gil on the shoulders, others bumping fists with him. The Red Hills player, number 12, waited his turn.

KELLY THORPE

Big Chief Brooklyn! (Sticks out his right hand and the two men merge in a chest-bump greeting) You might want to get your head check, even if you don;t have a concussion.

GIL COHEN

(Smiles) Next time warm me before I turn into an oncoming bus.

Yuma, Running Bear and Silver Fish were standing together watching all of this.

YUMA

Everything's gonna' be all right.

SILVER FISH

Yes.

RUNNING BEAR

Now I can die. I've seen everything.

EXT. FOOTBALL FIELD STANDS (NIGHT under the lights)

GIL COHEN

What was in that root?

YUMA

A little bit of earth, a little bit of hell.

GIL COHEN

So, that quarterback must be Running Bear's great grandson.

YUMA

Yep.

GIL COHEN

Anyone come around to check him out? (Although he already knew the answer)

YUMA

(They look eye-to-eye) There has been some interest.

GIL COHEN

What is he 15? It might be scary once he fills out. We should work on his technique a bit. He has a cannon arm, but he throws off his back foot too much. Kid runs like a deer.

YUMA

(Proud) He also plays baseball, runs track, is the center on the basketball team and dabbles in lacrosse.

GIL COHEN

Yeah, I can tell he's also a smart kid, too, but does he cut the football field grass?

YUMA

3.8 GPA and yes, he does cut the grass in his spare time.

GIL COHEN

(It all comes to Gil in a flash) That's why I came here, isn't it?

YUMA

(Puts his hand on Gil's back) That's why we're all here, my friend. It's not every day that Jim Thorpe is reborn.

GIL COHEN

You're not going to tell me that Kelly Thornton is really Kelly Thorpe? Does the outside world know?

YUMA

(Smiles) Not yet. Native American kids rarely attract much interest from colleges.

GIL COHEN

(Shakes his head in disbelief) The colleges are the least of your worries. It's going to take a village, or two.

YUMA

Yeah, there are a few other things we need to discuss.

GIL COHEN

(Focuses on the action on the field) After the game, my friend. After the game.

The game ends and Yuma awkwardly walks ahead of Gil on the way back to the car.

GIL COHEN

What's going on, Yu?

YUMA

Nothing, get in the car and let's get something to eat.

GIL COHEN

I'm not getting in the car until you tell me what's going on.

YUMA

We don't have time for this! Get in the car and I'll explain on the way.

GIL COHEN

(Reluctantly slides into passenger seat and fastens his seatbelt as Yuma starts driving) Spill it.

YUMA

I knew who you were before you came to Arizona.

GIL COHEN

(Stunned) What do you mean?

YUMA

Running Bear foretold about a man that would come from the outside and guide us from obscurity. It was my job to look over the trip rosters and see who was coming our way.

GIL COHEN

Why you?

YUMA

Because that's what was foretold.

GIL COHEN

(Struck with the realization that it all was a lie, that he was set up) What the hell? Has any of this been true?

YUMA

No, not now.

GIL COHEN

But, in the beginning you were full of crap? Is that what you're saying?

YUMA

No.

GIL COHEN

Stop the car! Let me out of here! I don't need this after all of the shit I've been through!

Yuma wouldn't stop the car, knowing what was waiting for them at the local diner.

GIL COHEN

Stop the car!

YUMA

I can't!

GIL COHEN

(Agitated) Stop the fuckin' car!

Yuma slammed on the breaks and the car came to a screeching halt.

YUMA

You can't leave!

GIL COHEN

(Wasn't having it) You can't make me do anything, anymore!

Gil gets out of the car and slams the door behind him.

YUMA

(Yells) Three tribes! Three tribes!

Gil kept walking a few more paces, stopped and sighed, and then walked back to the car, as Yuma lowered the passenger side window.

GIL COHEN

Three tribes? What does that mean?

YUMA

Over a century of three separate, neighboring tribes, and now they all want to meet with you, together!

GIL COHEN

Why me?

YUMA

The vision foretold of a white man in blue that would unite the men of the earth.

Gil looked down at his jacket and then adjusted his Brooklyn Dodgers hat to the back of his head. He then jumped back in the car.

GIL COHEN

Step on it, Yu! We've wasted enough time!

Yuma pulled into the parking lot of the diner and was guided by police to park his car up front, in what appeared to be preferential treatment.

GIL COHEN

What the... this isn't for me?

YUMA

No, but they certainly know who you are and what you mean to us.

Gil got out of the car and the crowd noise grew louder. He waved and then slapped a few hands on the way inside.

INT. SOCRATES DINER

Gil was greeted at the front desk by Spiro, the owner of the Socrates Diner, and then he was quickly ushered to a group of tables in a private section located in the back of the heavily-mirrored restaurant.

The specifics of this meeting were planned for weeks, although the very thought of such a happening had been bandied about for a century. Three tribes virtually separated at birth to comply with governmental zoning restrictions. Three tribes torn from the womb to lead separate yet connected existences only five miles apart in a geographical sphere. Their borders might have been connected but their hearts and thoughts were thoroughly disconnected.

There were a few familiar faces in the collective. Running Bear, Silver Fish and Kelly Thorpe motioned over to Gil to join them. He bowed to Running Bear and then hugged the other two guys. Everyone sat down and one by one, hats were removed. Gil hesitated until he heard an elderly gentlemen across the table speak to him.

SILVER FISH

(Translates) It's okay, we all have hat hair.

Gil laughed and nodded as he removed his Brooklyn Dodgers hat. Yuma was standing and proceeded with the introductions as everyone sat down.

YUMA

Welcome all to a night expected but no less gratifying. We have been separated by lines on a map not stars in the sky.

All of the men nod in agreement.

Gil looked into the eyes of the man across from him and bathed in the warmth of the man's gratification at seeing a lifelong dream being realized. As long as he could remember, Soaring Eagle heard stories of cousins separated by geography—that it was best to stay within the family and not stray beyond the imaginary borders, because man does not own the earth but does travel his own path.

The chiefs of the three tribes were Running Bear, Soaring Eagle and Diving Whale, with Running Bear being the eldest of the trio. Diving Whale was the smallest of the three, despite his name; he was given the name for his ability as a youth to hold his breath for long periods of time when searching for fish. Running Bear looked just like that when he ran, and Soaring Eagle was a great climbed and diver.

Once Yuma finished the introductions, Silver fish took over.

SILVER FISH

Thank you, Yuma, for all of your efforts. Although you are not an original member of this tribe, we wanted to take this occasion to name you as the official triangle, the president, of our three-tribe family. We also name you Seeing Owl on this day. The men pounded their fists on the table and then yelped out loud.

Yuma was speechless, for he had no knowledge of the honors bestowed on him. He looked at Gil with tears in his eyes and all of the hope of future generations. He was finally home.

Silver Fish, who once had a silver fish attached to his right index finger as a young boy, continued.

SILVER FISH

We have an outsider in our midst that will be opening the door. (He looks at Gil) Dolphin Surfer, or Big Chief Brooklyn as my grandson calls him, has given his life for this tribe. We salute his tireless efforts.

Once again, the collective pounded the table and yelped out loud.

GIL COHEN

(Pounds his chest) Team.

GROUP

"Team!"

SILVER FISH

When word got out about our efforts with the sports programs, members of our neighboring tribes started to inquire about putting their own structure in place. Soon they realized that it takes a Gil to unite a nation, so the informal talks began. (Turns to Gil) We have received some additional funding and can expect vast participation from the two tribes. What do you think?

GIL COHEN

(Looks around the table and smiles) Family. We can do anything together.

It was the happiest any of these men had been in their difficult lives. Although they realized the dangers of placing too much emphasis on the stars that shined on the field, they also knew the benefits of a united nation would far outweigh the spotlight on the accomplishments of the few.

The first order of business was to change the name of the schools from "three village" to just "tribe." Tribe Elementary, Middle and High School students all arrived at the same time to cut down on bus and gas usage, a Gil recommendation. A 10% increase in the bus fleet produced a 35% cost savings over the course of the school year.

Students were dropped off into the central hallway with elementary students turning left, middle-schooler's turning right, and high school students walking the straight path.

INT. SOCRATES DINER

GIL COHEN

We have to give them a reason to come back.

SILVER FISH

What do you mean, this isn't good enough?

GIL COHEN

(Waves to indicate that's not what he meant) No, no. That's not what I meant. Kids see more than you think. Their future choices currently include school teacher – which isn't bad – food bagger, tour guide – no offense Yu – or casino worker.

YUMA

That was just my cover.

GIL COHEN

(Laughs) I was wondering why you kept getting lost.

Everyone laughed.

SILVER FISH

(Ponders) So, what do you suggest.

Gil looked at the seven men sitting around the table.

GIL COHEN

Technology. We have to bring jobs other than gambling and food service to the area. You know higher-level, higher-paying jobs. This will also improve the tax base.

YUMA

How about sports technology?

GIL COHEN

You got it, Yu. In an era of rampant steroid use, we build a state-of-the-art sports technology center aimed at naturally enhancing performance and health. People will come from all around the world to learn from the melding of technology with generations of Native American wisdom.

The men talked it up, but Silver Fish needed closure.

SILVER FISH

You got a name for this place?

GIL COHEN

(Thinks for a moment) My knee-jerk was 'Earth, Sea and Sky Center' but we need a name that will be both concise and recognizable." (Then it came to him in a flash) The Thorpe Center.

Gil looked at Yuma and the two men smiled as the men applauded and then stood up to shake hands.

YUMA

(Hugs Gil) You are unbelievable.

GIL COHEN

Now all we have to do is find the money.

Gil needed a few days to get some genuine rest and relaxation from his extended vacation before the sports complex was scheduled to open. His first thought was to visit his family in New York, but that idea quickly went into the recycling bin when he realized that he would need a vacation to recover from that brief "holiday."

Fall was coming into its own and Gil needed to get a little cool air in his lungs. Needing a little New York, Gil opted for the East End of Long Island. By the end of September, all of the be's and wanna'-be's had cleared out and there was little to obscure the view from dune to open water.

EXT. YUMA's care on the way to the airport, day

YUMA

You're coming back, right?

GIL COHEN

(Smiles) It's just a long weekend. I'll be back on Monday. You wanna' come?

YUMA

(Laughs) Are you kidding? I got the place to myself for a few days.

GIL COHEN

(They get out of the car) You got a hot date this weekend?

In an instant, Yuma's secret rendezvous was revealed in his eyes. If his face wasn't so tan, it also would have been evident by his blushing cheeks.

GIL COHEN

(Removes his bag from the trunk and they hug) We'll talk when I get back.

Gil initially thought of staying out in Montauk, but it took too damn long to get there and sit in thick layers of fog all day. He settled on a hotel on Dune Road in Southampton. He tipped the bellhop and walked straight to the room's window, gazing at the rolling surf caressing the sand on the shore before rolling away.

There was a sizable Native American population in the Hampton's that had been relegated to many of the same occupations of Gil's brethren in Arizona. In fact, the hotel he was staying at had a shuttle into town that was driven by a Native American man named Bruce.

EXT. HOTEL ENTRANCE

GIL COHEN

(Extends his hand in greeting) Gil, but my friends in the tribe call me Dolphin Surfer.

The 54 year-old man had aged before his years, largely from his liberal abuse of jack Daniels and Marlboro cigarettes. The lines on his face and around his eyes were a testament to the hard life he led.

BRUCE

Bruce. Climbing Bear. Nice to meet you.

He then recounted the story of being a teenager and encountering his first bear. Bruce was a bit near-sighted, but he didn't know that at the time. He saw a bear in the distance and thought his only recourse was to climb a nearby tree and wait it out. A few minutes later, a couple of his friends came looking for him.

BRUCE

I'm up here!

BOY

Why are you up there?

BRUCE

I thought I saw a bear, so I climbed up here.

He scaled down the tree once he realized the coast was clear.

BRUCE

(Points) There it is, over there.

OTHER BOY

That's not a bear, it's a tree!

And thus, the name Climbing Bear stuck.

GIL COHEN

Can you suggest a good restaurant in town?

BRUCE

Yes, I'll drop you at the Broken Arrow. A woman I know runs it - her name is Maya.

The Broken Arrow wasn't your typical downtown destination spot. There was no long, dark, wooden bar. In fact, customers sat on a recycled grass floor and there was a wood-burning flame in the center of the restaurant where all hot food was cooked. The fire-pit was protected on all sides by volcanic rock, which absorbed much of the heat enabling diners to sit within a safe distance.

Petrified wood stumps provided seating for patrons, because there were no tables in the place.

NATIVE AMERICAN TEEN BOY

How many will it be tonight?

GIL COHEN

It's just one. Do you know if Maya is working tonight?

NATIVE AMERICAN TEEN BOY

Maya is always here. We couldn't run this place without her.

The seating-in-a-circle configuration promoted community and fostered an atmosphere of conversation, not separatism. By the looks of things, Gil figured that this cookout would include more than just the hot dogs and hamburgers he experienced growing up.

MAYA

(From behind Gil, upbeat and sarcastic) You look like a meat and potatoes kind of guy. Might I suggest the Happy Meal?

GIL COHEN

(Tried to turn his head to the right, but his limited head-swivel caused him to spin 45 degrees in his seat. Smiles) You must be Maya. Your reputation definitely has preceded you.

Maya was shaped like a fire hydrant with dark hair and a killer tan.

MAYA

Is that Bruce talking junk about me again?

Maya's dating life had been library-like-quiet since her husband up-and-left with all their money two years earlier. Once she realized what had happened, she got a quickie divorce, sold their house, changed her name, and took a job managing The Broken Arrow. She had enough money to open her own restaurant but decided to take the easier road, at least for now.

Her husband returned 18 months later looking to get another piece of the pie, and he had been hassling her ever since. Shinnecock men always had a higher standing than the women, even if the woman was as beloved as Maya.

MAYA

(Delivers Gil's meat and roasted potatoes meal in a large wooden bowl with a significantly-sized fork) One Happy Meal for the weary traveler.

GIL COHEN

Thank you. How did you know I was a traveler?

MAYA

(Edgy) Aren't you?

Gil abruptly retreated into his meal and meekly nodded in agreement with her question. Little did Gil know that Maya's drunken ex-husband had confronted her in the back a few minutes earlier. It was a daily occurrence and it was starting to wear her down. Her life had been relatively peaceful for a year-and-a-half, but the past six months had been pure torture. Her ties with the Shinnecock tribe had been loosened to the point that she would have to grow some wings, or risk be grounded for life.

Meanwhile, Gil dove into his delicious meal like he hadn't eaten since birth. Maya was having trouble focusing, but she was able to keep an eye on the handsome stranger with the whip marks that she delivered to his back.

Maya came over and Gil handed his empty bowl to her once he was finished.

MAYA

Did you enjoy that?

GIL COHEN

(Seeing if she was listening, or simply asking the question) It was awful.

She picked up her head quickly and short-lived outrage quickly turned to humor.

MAYA

I'll get you a bowl of vanilla ice cream and some hot apple pie. You're gonna' get hungry later, and all that fancy hotel you're staying at has is overpriced deserts.

A drunken man, Maya's ex-husband, came out on the floor and was shoving anyone and everyone in the path between him and his wife. Gil instinctively stood up as the man came closer.

MAYA'S EX-HUSBAND

(Looks down at Maya) You have sex with this guy, too? (Staggers) You've slept with half-the-town by now, you stupid slut!

He took a big, looping swing at Maya that caused him to fall backward toward the open flame. Gil reached over Maya and grabbed her unconscious ex-husband by the hood of his red sweatshirt and then dropped him on the padded floor. The bearded man's eyes rolled to the back of his head and Gil quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a red root, broke it in half, and then bent down and waved it under the guy's nose. The ex-husband jumped off the floor, awake but embarrassed, and then ran out of the restaurant. Maya looked at Gil in astonishment.

MAYA

Where did you get that root?

GIL COHEN

Wouldn't you like to know?

Gil went to a different restaurant just outside of town on his second night in Southampton. He then settled for the overpriced, undersized desert he ordered from room service at his hotel. Maya was right, the food was lacking that loving touch. Her food was so flavorful and well-cooked that he was thinking about it on the entire flight home.

INT. AIRPORT

A smiling Yuma was waiting for Gil when his plane landed. Gil initially thought the good tidings were directed at him, but then he realized that Yuma probably had "gotten lucky" over the weekend.

GIL COHEN

That's the biggest shit-eating grin that I've ever seen! (They hug)

YUMA

(Beaming) Guilty as charged. You have a good trip?

GIL COHEN

(Thinks as they walk) All I can say is that it's good to be home.

YUMA

(Breaks into an even wider smile) Well partner, it's good to have you home.

The two men walked out of the main airport exit and disappeared into the heat of the afternoon. It was all systems go for the sports project once Gil was back on terra-firma. There were a few modifications that needed to be incorporated since the three-tribe merge, but those adjustments were purely cosmetic in nature. The name "Tribe" was plastered everywhere from center-court of the lit, outdoor basketball court with glass backboards, to the scoreboard adjacent to the baseball field, to mid-field of the multi-purpose field being used for football, soccer, field hockey and lacrosse.

October 15th was the day that was slated for the ribbon-cutting opening ceremony, which was less than a month away. Gil and his growing band of helpers were busy like bees circling the hive.

INT. MANNY'S DELI

SILVER FISH

(Shares a kasha knish with Gil) Who are you going to get to cater the party after the ceremony?

GIL COHEN

I like this one better than potato.

SILVER FISH

Yeah, that's too greasy.

GIL COHEN

(Back on topic) I would like to capture the spirit of the event, but I don't think Manny's will do it.

SILVER FISH

Even if we get him to throw in a few of those black-and-white cookies?

GIL COHEN

(Laughs) Maybe next time. My objective is to give the real cooks, the townspeople, a day to celebrate not slave over a hot fire.

SILVER FISH

(Ponders) Have you had any great cooking lately?

GIL COHEN

(Looks up toward the ceiling for an answer) I know the perfect person for the job!

It had been nearly two months since Gil returned from his long weekend in the Hampton's, but he was still having trouble shaking The Broken Arrow and the eyes of the endless soul that put love in a bowl.

MAN

Good afternoon, Broken Arrow.

GIL COHEN

Hi, is Maya there?

MAN

(Hesitates) I'm sorry. Maya doesn't work here anymore. She quit last week.

GIL COHEN

(Surprised) Quit? I thought she ran the place. What happened?

MAN

Her ex-husband happened, over and over again. We were losing customers.

Gil hung up and felt as bad as he could from across the country. If he had the time, a plane-ride back to New York would almost have been a certainty.

INT. CHINESE RESTAURANT, DINNER

That night, Gil and Yuma went for Chinese food. The steamed dumplings and chicken and cashews were consistently good, as were the tasty almond and fortune cookies. There were two fortune cookies on the plate and Yuma waited for Gil to make the ultimate decision.

Gil let the vibrations guide him toward selecting the cookie on the right for Yuma, because the cookie was wide and smaller, just like Yuma. That meant the cookie on the left would be snapped open and dispensed its message to Gil.

GIL COHEN

What you got?

YUMA

(Reads his fortune) You will get lucky again before the next sunset. (Smirks) I do have someone coming over tonight, so would you mind clearing out for a while?

GIL COHEN

No problem. I was going to finish setting up the batting cage. (He reads his fortune and then reads it again to make sure he wasn't seeing things)

YUMA

What?

GIL COHEN

(Shakes his head in disbelief) Do not chase what is certain to come your way.

YUMA

And?

GIL COHEN

I'll tell you about it tomorrow, after you come down off your cloud.

EXT. BASEBALL FIELD BATTING CAGE, NIGHT UNDER THE LIGHTS

Gil spent the next few hours spreading netting around the poles of the batting cage with a few volunteers. The Chinese food was dancing around in his stomach, so Gil decided that it was time for his first shvitz at the reservation's sweat lodge. It was actually Steve Thorpe, Kelly Thorpe's father, Steve, who made the suggestion. The dry heat helped loosen up his son's golden left arm and it also helped refocus his occasionally-jumbled thoughts.

EXT./INT. SWEAT LODGE

He had an apprehensive look on his face, like a child on line for his first roller coaster ride. Gil heard tales about the visionary power of the sweat lodge.

STEVE THORPE

These dreams are more powerful than anything you've experienced before. (They exchange their clothes for towels) If you speak about what you see, then it will all remain a dream.

The men sat around the fire in the middle of the hut that was dug into the ground. The images of the flames danced around the inside of the structure until another man chanted for a few seconds before covering the fire. The hut went pitch black and the heat instantly intensified. Within 30 seconds, sweat rolled down Gil's body and onto the ground beneath him. Just as he was going to turn and locate the other people, they were gone and he could see a light streaming through outside of the hut. He opened the flap and shielded his eyes from the blinding light. A few seconds passed and it was night – Gil had crossed over, passing through the dimension he knew to one that was not yet familiar.

VOICE

Hey, Gil! The caterer has arrived!

GIL COHEN

Maya's here?

YUMA

Who's this Maya you keep talking about. I'm starting to think she doesn't exist.

GIL COHEN

She does exist!

MAYA

Did anyone call for a caterer?

GIL COHEN

(Yells) Me! Me! I asked for a caterer!

MANNY SHAPIRO

(Zoftig, Of Manny's Deli) What are you yelling for? I'm right in front of you!

GIL COHEN

Manny? What are you doing here? I don't think you were supposed to cater this event.

MANNY SHAPIRO

(Shakes his head in disappointment) To think, I was going to name a sandwich after you, *The Dolphin Surfer.*

GIL COHEN

(Feels bad) What was in it?

MANNY SHAPIRO

(Proud) A kasha knish on rye bread with a smear of chopped liver.

Gil thought for a moment and then imagined riding the waves of flavors surfing his mouth. Manny disappeared so Gil kept walking into a large bathroom. The mirrors were steamed up, so he couldn't see who was taking a shower.

GIL COHEN

Hello.

MAYA

Hello, yourself. Come on in before I use up all of the hot water.

GIL COHEN

I gotta' look into that solar energy.

He looked down and all of his clothes were gone and he was sporting his best birthday suit. Maya, looking all beautifully-naked and wet, greeted Gil in the shower with a long, passionate kiss.

MAYA

(Steps back) Crossing the streams is forbidden in the tribe. You must find a disciple of Abraham instead.

GIL COHEN

Why?

MAYA

Because it is so.

Her form becomes distorted and liquefied, and then oozes down the drain.

GIL COHEN

You don't see that every day.

Gil feels a hand on his back, pulling him into the darkness from the light in which he came.

STEVE THORPE

You need to get some liquids in you. Nothing that a little Gatorade can't do.

Gil got up slowly and tried to regain his footing, both literally and figuratively.

GIL COHEN

That was some shvitz.

STEVE THORPE

(Puts his arm around Gil) It's a long way from Coney Island, my brother.

GIL COHEN

(Pats Steve on the back) Yes is is, my friend.

A few days passed and Gil begrudgingly found himself in Manny's Deli talking shop with Manny Shapiro.

INT. MANNY'S DELI

MANNY SHAPIRO

So buballa, have you found a caterer for your grand opening?

GIL COHEN

I don't know, Manny? I was hoping for some divine intervention.

Manny had a story for every occasion, and almost all of his stories were injected with a whole-lot of Manny.

MANNY SHAPIRO

Like the one time I was all set to take my vows as a rabbi.

GIL COHEN

Don't priest take vows, MS?

MANNY SHAPIRO

Whatever, the point is that I looked up to the sky because my parents had pushed me into rabbinical school and I loved bacon and eggs too much to give it up.

GIL COHEN

So, what did you do?

Manny nodded his head like he head all of the answers in the universe lining up on his tongue to inform the world.

MANNY SHAPIRO

What? What do you think I did? I excused myself, ran out of the Flatbush Jewish Center, and then raced to the nearest luncheonette for some bacon and eggs and a chocolate egg cream.

GIL COHEN

What did your parents say?

MANNY SHAPIRO

They didn't say much. By the time I got home the news of my departure spread, so my father stood in front of my packed bags at the door of our apartment. He said, either you go back tomorrow, or you find another place to live! He wasn't one to mince words. I couldn't go back, so I had to find another place to live. I took odd jobs at restaurants and quickly found a place to live. Five years later, I was an assistant chef and decided to move to Arizona for a job offer in a restaurant out here. Another seven years went by before I opened Manny's Deli.

Of course, Gil heard this story at least a half-a-dozen times in his short time in Arizona. This time, the number of years between stops was longer and he hadn't hopped on an Amtrak train until it stopped in Arizona.

Manny gave Gil a price for catering the event and Gil said he would be in touch first thing in the morning.

GIL COHEN

The event is only five days away but I want to give it one more night.

They shook hands and Gil walked toward the door of the deli and was about to leave before the 60 year-old Shapiro came waddling after him.

MANNY SHAPIRO

I was thinking of naming a sandwich after you.

GIL COHEN

Holy shit!

MANNY SHAPIRO

You give me the sale and I'll let you create your own sandwich.

GIL COHEN

What would you call it?

MANNY SHAPIRO

(Thinks) What is it they call you?

GIL COHEN

(Shook his head in disbelief) Dolphin Surfer. You might as well put a kasha knish between two pieces of rye bread and finish it up with a smear of chopped liver spread on both sides.

MANNY SHAPIRO

(Processes the combination) Yeah, that could work.

GIL COHEN

(Turns toward the door) Freaky.

EXT. GOLF DRIVING RANGE

Arizona had some of the most beautiful gold courses in the world. The southwestern location also sports some of the most advanced driving ranges on the planet. Gil loved the "Swing for the Fences" range because it had two levels, air conditioning, cool classic rock playing, and automatic tees that brought balls from underground to the hitting zone. Large buckets were simply 100-ball lots, medium's produced 75, and small's yielded 50.

By the end of the first large lot, Gil was ready for a break. He slid two dollars into a machine and an ice-cold Sprite plastic bottle spat out. He then walked over to a bench, sat down, twisted the top off and started gulping some liquid refreshments. He exhaled and felt rejuvenated from the endorphins produced by the physical exertion.

MAYA

I thought golf was easier than that?

GIL COHEN

(Swivels his head to the right and was both surprised and completely aware that Maya would be standing there) Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes!

Gil stood up and walked toward Maya until they both met in a hug.

MAYA

You don't look surprised to see me.

GIL COHEN

(They break the hug) Let's just say that I had a hunch that you would follow me here.

From the beginning of their second encounter, it became painfully obvious that the attraction was anything but physical. She talked to Gil while he finished hitting balls.

MAYA

I'm still not sure what propelled me to drive here?

GIL COHEN

(Whacks a seven iron) You drove all the way here?

MAYA

Well, I wasn't going to leave my car back there. I'm not going back. (Starts sobbing)

GIL COHEN

(Gathers his clubs and walks toward Maya, who is seated on a bench) I think there's a sign over there that says no crying allowed, so we better get out of here.

Maya's laugh helped her achieve the vaunted laugh-cry, mostly achieved by people transitioning from various emotional states.

INT. DINER

GIL COHEN

(They sit in a booth) My roommate has been entertaining a lot lately. I'm in the process of looking for my own place. I bet you don't have a place to stay yet?

Maya looked defeated. Not only had her ex-husband let her emotionally bankrupt, he had also cleaned out most of her savings, thanks to a friend he had at the local bank. All Maya had left was $5,000 and a safe deposit box of heartache.

MAYA

I wasn't really thinking about reality when I was driving here. But, somehow I knew you would take care of me. Just like you did that night at The Broken Arrow.

GIL COHEN

I haven't stopped thinking about you since that night. I knew we had a connection, but you were too emotional to see it last night.

She nodded in agreement as the 50-something waitress with the inflatable hair and a waistline that had peaked decades earlier.

WAITRESS

What can I get you two?

MAYA

Black coffee.

GIL COHEN

Decaf tea for me and a piece of cheesecake. And bring the lady a Caesar Salad.

MAYA

Can you make that a burger, blood red, with fries.

Gil misjudged that one, but kept moving forward, or so he thought.

GIL COHEN

I have a business proposition for you.

Gil had an innate eye for talent and he saw a can't-miss opportunity in Maya. After Gil laid out his abbreviated business plan he casually continued like he hadn't just dropped the bomb.

GIL COHEN

So, why was the restaurant called the Broken Arrow?

MAYA

(Play-slaps herself in the face) Wait a minute! Did you just offer me half of the restaurant and all I have to do is show up every day?

GIL COHEN

(Unfazed) Yeah, we'll make it all official and everything. I know some lawyers in town that can get some paperwork together. Okay?

MAYA

Yeah, okay!

GIL COHEN

I didn't think you had this side to you. It's so soft and gooey, like the inside of that chocolate lava cake you made in New York.

MAYA

(Wakes up) Soft and gooey? I'm not soft and gooey! (She slaps his right arm with her left hand)

GIL COHEN

So you're a lefty. I should have known!

MAYA

Why? What's wrong with lefties?

GIL COHEN

They're a bit off-centered. I always wanted to be a lefty.

MAYA

(Smiles) Well then, you can live through me.

Maya was so hungry that she shifted primarily to listen-only mode while working her way through her meal.

MAYA

(Finally came up for air after Gil explained what had happened since he arrived) That's interesting. So you're saying that the elders decided to engage the youth through a sports program.

GIL COHEN

Why? What's wrong with that?

MAYA

(Grins as she eats her fries) That Thorpe kid must be as good as they say.

GIL COHEN

(Flabbergasted) Thorpe kid? How did you know about him?

MAYA

There isn't one of us that don't know about Kelly Thorpe. He's the next red hope.

GIL COHEN

But, Yuma said...

MAYA

Yuma? You know Yuma? Fifty-something, charming personality, talent scout. He came by a year ago but only stayed for a week. Left town real quick when he got the call about the Thorpe kid.

GIL COHEN

(Motions for the waitress to come over) Can I have another piece of cheesecake with a tall glass of milk? Keep it coming until I wave the white napkin.

GIL COHEN

Just tell me you didn't sleep with him.

MAYA

If he stayed a few more days, there could have been trouble, but keep in mind that I wasn't officially divorced yet. Why, what's wrong with that?

GIL COHEN

Yuma's my roommate. I also paid for his house. (Losing steam) So, his wife didn't pass away?

MAYA

No, that part is actually true. His wife and kid died 10 years ago in a freak car accident.

Timing was everything as the front door of the diner swung open to reveal a beaming Yuma. He talked to the owner's wife, asking if Gil had come in, and then took three upbeat strides toward Gil before seeing Maya.

YUMA

Oh, shit.

Yuma was trying to gauge gauging whether to run full-speed out of the diner. If it had been a few seconds earlier, before Maya told Gil about Yuma's tragedy, the race definitely would have been on. Instead, Gil motioned for Yuma to join them at the table. Maya moved over and Yuma sat next to her. The two Native Americans were like kids in the principal's office.

GIL COHEN

Now, if you tell me you planned this whole thing, I'm going to be on the next plane out of here!

Maya and Yuma looked at each other like they had planned it.

MAYA AND YUMA

Nah!

GIL COHEN

(Narrates)

Actually, the idea wasn't so far-fetched. Yuma had thoughts of roping Maya into his master plan before he was unexpectedly summoned to Arizona. As much as Yuma truly admired and liked Gil, he was there to do a job, to complete a job. Payment for completion of the job was $100,000, and once the ribbon-cutting ceremony was complete, the money was has. He already booked a flight out of Arizona the night of the ceremony. A few weeks in Hawaii to recharge would do the trick before moving on to the next undetermined assignment.

Yuma was a modern-day carpetbagger, moving from city to city in search of talented young athletes to pawn off on high schools and universities. He hit the mother-load with the Arizona job, however. His usual fee of $5,000 for a high school prospect and $15,000 for a college prospect were greatly enhanced by his Native American origin. Since he was the only scout of "red" origin, he was able to jack up his price measurably.

He knew of Gil from his dealings with various sports agents. In fact, the two men met briefly at Hofstra when Gil held a workout with pro scouts. A few of Gil's Hofstra clients were trying to improve their draft position and were going through the paces in front of about a dozen scouts and Yuma. In those days, he went by the name of Henry Clarke, although he looked as much like Henry Clarke as Gil looked like a guy named Yuma.

Gil looked across the table at Yuma and it sparked a memory of a dark man wearing a Yankees cap. Pieces of Gil's shattered memory were starting to be recovered, and he could barely control the regularity and depth of the images. At first, he thought the slight concussion he suffered at the football game was the catalyst, but the more he thought about it, the more he attributed it to the trauma he suffered during his wife's ordeal.

Memory loss aside, Gil was pretty tired of playing the part of the unknowing fool, so he decided to do a little research of his own. Each time he thought the soup wouldn't get any thicker, another handful of vegetables were thrown into the pot and were left to simmer and stew in his thoughts.

The ribbon-cutting ceremony was scheduled for the next day and Gil had mixed emotions. The joy of the event was being dampened by the series of events that had crumpled his bridge from the past to the present.

INT. HYATT HOTEL

Gil gathered his things and checked into a hotel for a while to clear his head. It was the same hotel that he originally checked into when he first arrived in Arizona.

EXT. HAMMOCK

All it took was a few swings of the hammock to send Gil rolling into Sleepy Time Station. As soon as he crossed over, Yuma was there to greet him in his dreams.

YUMA

That's what you get for trusting people. (Yuma transforms into Gil's preachy mother) I told you, you shouldn't trust people. You never listen to me.

MAYA

Don't listen to them. They're just bitter. You can trust me... can't you?

GIL COHEN

Can I trust you?

MAYA

(Laughs) You can trust me!

YUMA

(Smiling) Yeah, you can trust me, too!

TRIBE MEMBERS

Us, too!

Gil didn't like the tone of the dream and somehow got himself out of there, and woke up feeling slightly disturbed.

While Gil was at the hotel, Yuma took the opportunity to pack up his stuff. He walked over to the wall and removed an actual picture of him and his wife Carly in happier days. Maya was told the same story as everyone else – that Yuma's wife and son were killed in a freak accident. Gil discovered through much research that mother was seven months pregnant with their first child. She was killed while cruising through a green light by a white congressman's drunken son. Mother and son died en route to the hospital, as the paramedics were unable to sustain life. The kid got off with probation and a soft fine. Yuma, whose real name is James Thorpe Broadleaf, started running the day the kid was set free and hadn't stopped in over 10 years.

Yuma was the name of his grandfather, which seemed to stick like the remnants of cotton candy. He moved from town to town with little more than a duffle bag full of clothes and the picture of him and his wife on their happiest day, the day she found out she was pregnant.

Gil crashed early and woke up early. He figured that Yuma was set to run again, and that was part of the reason why he decided to vacate the house. He thought about driving past Yuma's house on the way to the ceremony, but the house was not on the way to the ceremony. So he just hoped to be able to get a few words before Yuma took flight. Once Gil discovered that Yuma's non-malicious, deceptive ways merely served to guide him towards his destiny, his plan of action was set.

EXT. NEW ATHLETIC FACILITY CEREMONY, DAY

RUNNING BEAR

We are here today to open what we hope will be the start of a fruitful cooperation.

SILVER FISH

Gilbert Cohen, do you have something to say?

Before Gil could step up the microphone, the crowd broke out into joyous, appreciative applause. Gil looked over at Yuma, who was doing his best to keep his emotions in check.

GIL COHEN

My friend once told me that only the strongest survive. I am here today to open my arms and say that survival is not enough! We have proven over and over again that we can endure the most heart-breaking of tragedies! But, don't we deserve more than just survival? Don't we all deserve to live together as one? To pool our collective experiences and give the next generation a boost – a chance of achieving more than just survival. (Turns toward the sports fields) This is our first step. Let's take it together!

The crowd applauded wildly, and then the heads of the three tribes were escorted over to cut a huge red ribbon affixed to the entrance of the *Village Sports Complex.* Their collective age exceeded the age of the country, at least in the white man's tally.

For some reason, Gil's path to Yuma was obscured and he could not get to him. Waves of well-wishers descended on Gil, thanking him for all of his good efforts on behalf of the community. He was happy to be surrounded by so much warmth, but kept one eye on the whereabouts of Yuma, who he was sure was only moments from exiting stage left.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Taps on his shoulder) Are you Gil Cohen?

GIL COHEN

(Turns around and faces the new co-host of a CBS evening news program) Yes, I am Gil Cohen.

LESLIE HOWARD

Do you have a few minutes to talk to us? (Acknowledges her crew)

Gil again had one eye on the reporter and the other, more attentive eye on Yuma's whereabouts. Escape without the hope of retribution was not an option mapped out in Gil's mental playbook.

GIL COHEN

Would it be possible to do this later? I have to go save a friend's life.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Looks at Gil and then in disbelief at her cameraman) Is this guy for real?

Leslie Howard moved up the ranks over the past six years, from summer intern to weather girl to field reporter to local news anchor to national features reporter. At 34, she looked 27 or 28 but had the maturity and poise of a much older woman.

Born and raised in Huntington, Long Island, Leslie Diane Howerstein always had ambitions of performing on the big stage. She tried chorus and then theatre in high school, but her drama teacher, Mr. Aaronson bluntly told her after agonizing through Grease's "Hopelessly Devoted to You"

MR. AARONSON

I'm sorry to tell you that you are completely tone deaf.

Leslie came home that day completely destroyed, but still confident that her parents would set the record straight and reinstate her certain Broadway career. At the dinner table that night, she asked with all of the innocence of a baby chick.

LESLIE HOWARD

Mr. Aaronson told me something today that I wasn't expecting.

RALPH HOWERSTEIN

(Leslie's dad) The drama program is cancelled?

SUSAN HOWERSTEIN

(Her mother) This year's production of has been cancelled due to a rampant spread of the chicken pox?

DAVID HOWERSTEIN

(Younger brother) You really suck at singing?

As parents, their obvious responsibility was to be supportive and nurturing. However, Ralph started laughing and then tried to conceal his insensitivity by coughing like his food went down the wrong pipe. Susan patted him on the back and then he got up.

RALPH HOWERSTEIN

Excuse me, honey, I just need to get a little air.

Ralph's laughter could still be heard even though he escaped to the back porch. The family listened to his massive giggle-dominated breakdown.

SUSAN HOWERSTEIN

(Yells) We can still hear you, honey! Why don't you take a lap around the block?

Susan dispatched of her son.

LESLIE HOWARD

So, I am tone deaf?

SUSAN HOWERSTEIN

The arts are so subjective, honey...

LESLIE HOWARD

(Getting frustrated) Mom! Am I tone deaf?

It was one of those instances when mom had to weigh the benefits to her daughter, versus the obvious detriments to society. She didn't want to break her daughter's heart, but would rather have gone through childbirth again than sit through another blackboard-scratching, chill-inducing performance.

SUSAN HOWERSTEIN

(Flat out) Honey, I don't think singing is for you.

Leslie went into a crying and screaming fit befitting of a five year-old being denied anything these days.

LESLIE HOWARD

(She yells between sobs) Why didn't you tell me? You people are all deaf!

SUSAN HOWERSTEIN

(After Leslie calmed down, Susan suggested) Have you ever thought about working behind the scenes?

The light went on in Leslie's head and the next day Mr. Aaronson gladly named her backstage goddess, where she would be responsible for overseeing set and costume design. Leslie also had a tremendous memory, so actors would be able to look toward her of they forgot a line.

After high school, she went to N.Y.U. as a theatre major and worked on Broadway as a Producer's Assistant on various shows during her four years of college. After school, she easily transitioned to full-time positions behind the scenes on a couple of major Broadway shows, but never lost her desire to be on center stage.

Near the end of her time on Broadway, she managed to complete a summer internship on CBS-TV in New York, which was only a few blocks from her full-time gig. She worked on the CBS Morning Show and had to be in at 5:00 a.m. to prepare cue cards and set up the green room for daily guests. Many nights she was at the theater, or out with co-workers, until 1:00 a.m. Her day on Broadway generally started at 3:00 p.m. and her day at CBS usually ended at noon. This gave Leslie a maximum of seven hours of free time, of which she slept maybe three or four hours a day.

After two months of this grind, Leslie slept the better part of a week and barely left her tiny studio apartment. Near the end of her quiet slumber, she got a frantic phone call from her CBS Producer.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Groggy) Hello.

PRODUCER MARGO

Leslie? Thank god you're there! Everyone else is out of town for the Labor Day weekend!

LESLIE HOWARD

Margo? Is that you?

PRODUCER MARGO

Can you get down to the station within the next hour?

LESLIE HOWARD

(Realizes she is not dreaming) Why, what's going on?

PRODUCER MARGO

(Rolls her eyes) Gail Storm had some complications from her latest cosmetic surgery.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Uses Gail's real name) Freda Hankenson's boob job went wrong?

PRODUCER MARGO

(Laughs) Yeah, Freda's not going to be in for a while...

LESLIE HOWARD

So what does all of this have to do with me? (Stands up and walks toward the bathroom. Her long, white CBS Morning Show t-shirt barely covered her bare bottom.

PRODUCER MARGO

I need you to go on air!

LESLIE HOWARD

On air? (Sits on the toilet)

PRODUCER MARGO

Every time we went out you said you could do Freda's job blindfolded. Well, here's your chance.

LESLIE HOWARD

As long as I get full hair, wardrobe and makeup.

PRODUCER MARGO

Deal! Be down here in 20 minutes. It's hurricane season.

Leslie took a quick shower and then breezed through her first broadcast, even with Hurricane Zelda looming off the Florida coast. Calls flooded the CBS switchboard later that morning, on what were usually quiet phone lines. Leslie's dirty-blond hair, blue eyes, bright smile and engaging personality were a natural for an on-air personality. Over time, her hair became blonder, her teeth became whiter, her skin became smoother, bet her 5'9" frame remained fit and she was young enough to avoid the pressure to have cosmetic surgery.

She spent a year and-a-half as weather person, then earned her keep as a field reporter in order to be groomed for a local anchor position. She was so proficient as a field reporter that the network left her out in the wild for three years. Margo was now the producer of the daily morning show and was waiting for Barbara Boone, the New York CBS Morning Show anchor, to retire after 20 years in the position.

Once Boone retired, or was sent out to pasture – depends on which side of the cow pasture you're sitting on – Margo slotted Leslie into the anchor position. She enjoyed her year-plus as anchor of the least-watched morning newscast of the local networks, but she wanted more. Leslie and Margo talked often about Leslie's glory days as a field reporter. The two women shot the shit one day after the show.

INT. NEWSROOM OFFICE

PRODUCER MARGO

I got some news today.

LESLIE HOWARD

Frank's getting a new hairpiece?

PRODUCER MARGO

No, it's better than that.

LESLIE HOWARD

Is Chip the weather man coming out of the closet?

PRODUCER MARGO

No, Chip is already in the middle of the room. Put your sarcasm aside for a minute and try adopting listening as a new skill. You're gonna' need it in your new position.

Leslie perked up as she straightened her bent frame on the couch.

PRODUCER MARGO

I've been in discussions over the past few months with the producer of 60 Minutes. They've been looking to extend their franchise beyond Sunday night, so they came up with a weekly, half-hour show called CBS 360 that will air Wednesday night at 10 o'clock. The format of the show will include three, eight-minute segments each week, so they expect to hire three anchors/reporters that will be out-of-studio hosts.

LESLIE HOWARD

So, it's a done deal?

PRODUCER MARGO

I'll need you here tomorrow morning for a meeting.

Leslie jumped off the couch and hugged Margo, who was becoming a network "go-to" executive producer in her mid-40s.

PRODUCER MARGO

Do you want to know who the other hosts are?

LESLIE HOWARD

It's probably an older guy and a younger guy.

PRODUCER MARGO

We got a 50-plus comedian that will do lighter pieces, a 20-something Indian kid just out of college that will talk about new-age tech topics, and our own Leslie Howerstein, alias Leslie Howard, who will be giving her own spin on a wide variety of human interest stories.

LESLIE HOWARD

Will I get a raise?

PRODUCER MARGO

(Stands up and raises her hands in victory) We're national, baby! We'll both get a big raise.

The show became so successful that it won an Emmy in its first year, beating out network stalwarts such as 20/20 and Dateline. Leslie did a lot more traveling in her second year on the show and had become the de-facto anchor, introducing each report and opening and closing the show.

Margo received some e-mails from an unidentified source in the weeks leading up to the tribe ribbon-cutting ceremony. This gave the behind-the-scenes team time to compile statistics related to Native Americans and their difficulties in making an impact on a modern-day society.

The CBS 360 show had done so well that a mini-spin-off called 360: In Depth was added in the form of five half-hour specials. The first of these specials was slated to be called "Native Americans: A People on the Brink" before Leslie went on assignment.

PRODUCER MARGO

You're going to Arizona.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Checking emails on her phone) What's in Arizona?

PRODUCER MARGO

The red people.

LESLIE HOWARD

Martians?

PRODUCER MARGO

No, Native Americans, and one very large, unrelenting white man.

Margo stated as she held up a copy of an article from a local Arizona newspaper. The headline read: **LOCAL LEADERS SET TO CUT RIBBON**. The subhead read: Dolphin Surfer says, "It's time to play ball!"

LESLIE HOWARD

(Excited) Dolphin surfer? I like dolphins!

PRODUCER MARGO

Yeah, I know.

LESLIE HOWARD

Is there a picture of this guy? What's his name?

Margo hands Leslie the article.

PRODUCER MARGO

His name is Gil Cohen and here is the picture, which was sent by an unnamed source.

LESLIE HOWARD

Have we confirmed this unconfirmed source?

PRODUCER MARGO

(Smirks) He said he will only talk to you.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Edgy) Well, give me his number.

Leslie went back to her bright, windowed office, dials the Arizona number, and sits back in her brown leather office chair. She slips her black, two-inch heeled shoes off and lets them slip to the floor.

YUMA

Hello.

LESLIE HOWARD

Hello, this is Leslie Howard from *CBS 360.*

YUMA

Yes, Miss Howard. Thank you for calling me.

LESLIE HOWARD

May I ask who I am talking to? Of course, I will maintain your anonymity.

YUMA

Just know that I am a friend of the tribe and a friend of Gilbert Cohen. If I need to make my identity known, I will. Just know that I am Yu.

LESLIE HOWARD

You are me? Am I having a Mel Brooks flashback?

YUMA

I think it was Barbara Streisand and Ryan O'Neil in *What's Up, Doc?*

LESLIE HOWARD

I loved those movies in the '70s and '80s.

YUMA

What hump?

LESLIE HOWARD

(Laughs) My favorite line from *Young Frankenstein* was "Nice knockers," and Terri Garr replied in her best Transylvania accent, "Oh, sank you, doctor."

They both laugh.

YUMA

Is there anything specific you want to know?

LESLIE HOWARD

What's going on with this guy, Gil Cohen?

YUMA

Do you mean, is he for real? (Yuma settles back in his tub chair and puts his feet up on the ottoman)

LESLIE HOWARD

Yes.

YUMA

He is the most real person you will ever meet.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Takes takes the phone away from her ear and rests it on her chest while taking a deep breath) Why him?

YUMA

Because it was foretold.

LESLIE HOWARD

Foretold by whom?

YUMA

(Stern) Look, we could go back and forth all day, exchanging open-ended statements that put clarity just out of reach, or you can hop on a plane and see this with your own two eyes. Miss Howerstein, there is a real Native American renaissance going on here. It was nice talking to you, but I have to go. Good luck to you.

EXT. NEW ATHLETIC FACILITY CEREMONY

Gil ran through the crowd, stopping every few yards to talk to families that wanted to thank him for his contribution. Leslie saw this and signaled for the cameraman and sound man to roll tape. The two guys followed Gil and stayed a safe distance behind him like a police car trailing a perp.

Gil finally saw Yuma in the distance, walking to his car.

GIL COHEN

(Yelling) Yu, stop!

LESLIE HOWARD

(Heard this and muttered) I am you? (Yells) Jim, go get the van!

Leslie and her crew followed Gil and Yuma until she told them to stop taping.

GIL COHEN

(Yells) Where are you going?

Yuma thought about jumping in his car and taking off, but he was prepared for such a confrontation.

YUMA

(Yells back) My work here is done!

Gil moved within a few feet of his friend, as Leslie left the guys in the van so she could move within earshot.

GIL COHEN

Weren't you going to say goodbye?

YUMA

I find it's best to leave without further severing ties.

GIL COHEN

Oh, that's nice! I know all about your big payoff and your life of hopping from city to city!

YUMA

You don't know anything about my life!

GIL COHEN

That's where you're wrong my friend. I know everything about your life!

That was way too close for Yuma's comfort, so he opened his car door, jumped into the car and drove off. Gil was flabbergasted and didn't know what to do or say. He wasn't going to yell more because of the venue He wasn't going to run after the car because he wasn't even fast enough to catch a kid on a tricycle.

Gil's car was parked clear across the field, so he watched Yuma speed away for another few seconds and then turned to walk back to the celebration.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Van pulls up) Thanks, get out. (Urges Jim and Ryan to exit the van, and they did)

It had been a while since she had driven, preferring to let other people drive while she studied up for her interviews. She located the shifter and the van jumped back and then lurched forward when she jerked the shifter to 'D.' Leslie was afraid to push the gas pedal down for fear she would mow down the elated crowd. Gil started walking back and could see she was having difficulty moving the vehicle once he picked up his heavy head from the ground.

GIL COHEN

(Stands outside of the passenger window) Hi! Do you need any help?

Leslie had a line all ready and ripped it off anyway even though she thought it was iffy.

LESLIE HOWARD

Hop in, I can catch him!

GIL COHEN

(Looks down the road) Unless you're gonna freeze time, I don't think we can catch him at this pace? Why don't you put it in park and I'll drive.

She slid the shifter into park and opened the door, only to be met by Gil's outstretched right hand offering her an easy exit out of the van. She momentarily tossed her professional integrity and complete independence as a dynamic woman aside, and extended her delicate left hand and clasped as she was guided to her feet.

Leslie's legs felt a little wobbly, and Gil could see she was unsteady.

GIL COHEN

Are you all right, Miss Howard?

LESLIE HOWARD

(Smiles and stares deeply into his brown eyes) Yeah, I'm just fine.

GIL COHEN

Why don't we drive over to my car. I know where he's going and what time he's taking off.

Gil picked up Leslie's crew and then proceeded to become more familiar with his new acquaintances. A few minutes later, he pulled the van next to his Toyota Prius.

GIL COHEN

I'll have her back before curfew guys. When you get food, tell Maya that I sent you. She will take care of you.

They walk toward the car.

LESLIE HOWARD

How do you fit in this car?

GIL COHEN

It's surprisingly roomy.

He opens the passenger-side door for her.

LESLIE HOWARD

(She places her left hand on his right forearm) Thanks. (Buckles in) So, how long have you been living here?

GIL COHEN

About a year. (Limits his reply as he navigates the crowded area) But, I do have a few questions for you once I get out of this parking lot. (He clears the lot) First off, why did you give up your weatherwoman gig? Because I never left the house on the weekend before I saw Leslie Howerstein tell me if I needed sun block or an umbrella.

LESLIE HOWARD

(She turns toward him and is amused) Okay, Mr. Big Shot, what is your other question?

GIL COHEN

I'll give you an interview, but you have to sing for me.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Nervously laughs) You're not serious, are you?

GIL COHEN

I read your bio years ago and it said you were tone deaf, but loved to sing in the shower. Is that true?

LESLIE HOWARD

(Her demeanor changes for the worse) I don't really discuss that.

He looked over and realized that maybe it wasn't possible to heal the whole world.

GIL COHEN

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I used to be in chorus in high school and my teacher, Mr. Bolden, could teach anyone to sign in tune.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Comes back to life) Really? Because I've had Broadway singers and vocal coaches tell me there was no cure for what I had.

GIL COHEN

(Undaunted) Okay. First thing, hold my hand.

LESLIE HOWARD

How does that help?

GIL COHEN

I'm not sure, I just wanted to hold your hand.

They both smile.

GIL COHEN

Next I want you to scream obscenities at the top of your lungs.

LESLIE HOWARD

(She looks at him for the punch line, and then takes a deep breath and yells) MOTHER-FUCKER, SHIT BAG, COCK SUCKER, BITCH WHORE!

GIL COHEN

(Impressed) Nice! That was in tune!

LESLIE HOWARD

(She claps and laughs so hard that tears are streaming down her face) It's your turn.

GIL COHEN

SCUM BAG-CARRYING, JOCK-ITCHING, BALL-SCRATCHING, BASTARD!

LESLIE HOWARD

(Laughs) Who's got issues now?

GIL COHEN

Okay. Now moan like your about to have an orgasm. (Trying to fully bring her guard down)

LESLIE HOWARD

(Alarmed) Is your teacher still in jail?

GIL COHEN

I've made slight modifications. Keep moaning and I'll stop you when you've hit the mark.

She started slow but then got into it.

GIL COHEN

(Yells) That's it! Keep at that moan!

LESLIE HOWARD

Ahhhhhh.

GIL COHEN

(Matches her pitch) Ahhhhhh.

They stop at a light with the windows open. An older couple in a Lincoln Town Car pulled up next to them and the older couple looked shocked as the light changed and the husband sped off at 25 miles per hour, leaving the slower-rolling Prius behind.

LESLIE HOWARD

I sang in tune! How did you do it?

GIL COHEN

(Smirks and gives her a high five) I've learned a lot about my inner beast lately.

Gil continued to cruise toward the airport and parked in an hourly lot adjacent to the departure area.

LESLIE HOWARD

Do you want me to wait for you in the car?

What Gil knew of Yuma, he knew he would stop and get a few slices of pizza at Brooklyn Pizza in the airport. That was all Yuma talked about after he picked Gil following his trip to Southampton.

GIL COHEN

In the mood for a slice of New York pizza?

LESLIE HOWARD

Sure, is the pizza any good, here?

GIL COHEN

No, but if you close your eyes real tight and drink a few beers, then... nah, it's still not close.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Giggles)

GIL COHEN

One piece wouldn't kill us.

INT. AIRPORT TERMINAl

They walked until they saw the bright white and red sign for Brooklyn Pizza. Two brothers, Dom and Bruno Mastiglia, moved from New York to Arizona 20 years earlier and had been serving faux New York pizza to locals and weary travelers with dulled taste buds ever since.

GIL COHEN

We'll take a couple of slices and I'll have a Sprite.

LESLIE HOWARD

Do you have root beer?

BRUNO MASTIGLIA

Do we have root beer?

VITO MASTIGLIA (BRUNO'S BROTHER)

Ohhhhhh!

GIL COHEN

(Looks back at Yuma) Now that's Brooklyn.

Gil and Leslie sat down with their pizza and drinks and joined Yuma, who had already consumed a slice and was already a fold and a few bites into piece number two.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Smiling) You must be Yu.

YUMA

Yes, I am Yuma. (Shakes Leslie's hand and then looks at Gil) I think the name's going to stick this time.

GIL COHEN

Whatever you say, JTB. (Short for James Thorpe Broadleaf)

Yuma looked at Gil in acknowledgement of finally doing his homework. They talked and talked for the next 40 minutes until Yuma announced that it was time for him to go to his gate.

They got up from the table and headed toward the garbage to throw their plates and paper cups away.

GIL COHEN

(Leans toward Leslie) Could you give us a few minutes?

Leslie places her left hand on Gil's left arm, signaling that she would warmly comply with his request.

LESLIE HOWARD

Well, I am going to check out this Sharper Image store I saw on the way in. (She looked back at both men with and winked) Could be time for a new back massager, if you know what I mean.

Normally Leslie would merely shake hands with people she met on assignment, but she and Yuma both went in for a hug. It gave her a chance to whisper.

LESLIE HOWARD

Thanks for the call.

YUMA

There's a lot of information out there on the Internet these days.

Leslie walked away and Gil playfully slapped his friend on the back.

GIL COHEN

Do you think you'll ever stop running?

YUMA

I'm not sure. It really hasn't gotten any easier.

GIL COHEN

I thought you told me that it does get easier.

YUMA

Yes, the man-woman thing, but staying in one place thing seems to be more elusive.

GIL COHEN

(They start walking toward the gate) Did you try to get Maya to go with you?

YUMA

(Smiles) Yeah, I really like that one... she wouldn't go with me, but said she would think about giving me the right time of day if I decided to come back.

GIL COHEN

(They reached the end of the line and non-passengers had to say their goodbyes. Gil extended his right hand and Yuma grabbed his hand) So, you're coming back? Coming home?

YUMA

(Pulls Gil in for a hug) I don't know? (They broke the hug) But I'm confident that my friends will understand either way.

GIL COHEN

Friend?

YUMA

(Slaps Gil's hand) Friends.

Yuma handed the guard his ticket and dropped his luggage on the belt.

YUMA

Oh, and by the way, the house is all yours. You paid for it.

GIL COHEN

Who owned it before?

YUMA

The tribe.

GIL COHEN

Then it will stay with the tribe.

Gil pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly typed a text message as he walked away.

Yuma slipped his backpack over his shoulder and then pulled his buzzing cell phone out of his right pants pocket. The text message from Gil red, "I could use a Director of Scouting. Runner required."

YUMA

(Smiles and types as he walks toward his plane) I'll sleep on it. Don't leave that weather girl waiting.

GIL COHEN

Thanks, Yu.

EXT. IN THE CAR DRIVING FROM THE AIRPORT

LESLIE HOWARD

So, why did you come to Arizona? (Sounds like a reporter)

GIL COHEN

So, this is the formal interview portion of the drive?

LESLIE HOWARD

I did come here to do a job.

GIL COHEN

I didn't.

LESLIE HOWARD

I heard you were here on vacation.

GIL COHEN

If that's what you want to call it. (Starts to get annoyed) I'll only agree to this interview if fun Leslie Howerstein does it. I really don't want to talk to Leslie Howard anymore.

Leslie didn't know how to react at first.

GIL COHEN

Let's just have a conversation like two adults, not reporter and subject.

LESLIE HOWARD

Okay, Cohen. I talked to your mother last night and she said you haven't called her in months.

GIL COHEN

(Whips his head around) You didn't call my mom! Did you?

LESLIE HOWARD

(Serious to smiling) No! I don't even call my mom anymore. She never stops gloating about my sister's kids.

GIL COHEN

She bugs you about getting married?

LESLIE HOWARD

No doubt! She probably tells her friends that I'm a lesbian.

GIL COHEN

(Shoots her a curious look)

LESLIE HOWARD

Not a lesbian, but I do have a lot of gay friends.

GIL COHEN

The truth is that I haven't called my mom since I've been here.

LESLIE HOWARD

What kind of Jewish guy doesn't call his mother?

GIL COHEN

A smart one.

LESLIE HOWARD

Did you have a fight with your family?

GIL COHEN

No, I just got tired of the non-stop questions and lack of peace in my life.

LESLIE HOWARD

(She felt comfortable enough to go for it) Did you watch her die?

GIL COHEN

(Instinct was to say "who?") Yeah.

LESLIE HOWARD

My grandma' dropped dead right in front of me.

GIL COHEN

I don't dwell on the valley of the shadow of death anymore, but I'm sorry to hear about your grandma'. Hopefully you weren't singing at the time.

LESLIE HOWARD

If I wasn't moaning, I must have been off key.

GIL COHEN

We should work on a few more notes later.

LESLIE HOWARD

I'm flying out tomorrow.

GIL COHEN

That's too bad. (Felt like she used her job as a shield to protect herself against suitors)

Leslie absorbed the comment and looked at the straight road ahead. It was always a race for Leslie to get her story by the end of the week and then race home to edit and prepare tape for the air. She had no time for a social life, or an addiction, or even to develop thoughts about anything going on outside of her tight little world. It was work out, work, sleep, every day of the week.

Leslie and her crew walked around most of the day, talking to people in the tribe and getting shots of the sports complex and the reservation. She wanted to focus on shots of the old schools and the new school being built. She focused on government-funded programs being subsidized and often replaced by private funding. She highlighted the white man in the middle of the red man's world.

EXT. NEW ATHLETIC FACILITY DINNER, NIGHT

LESLIE HOWARD

I'm thinking about calling my special, 'Big Chief Brooklyn'," (Eats some of Maya's cooking) Wow, the flavor is unbelievable!

GIL COHEN

Maya recently came to us from the Shinnecock tribe in Southampton. While I'm flattered that you would name the piece after me, I have to respectfully ask you to take the light off me. (Gestures toward the people of the tribe) These are the people that deserve all of the credit. They are the ones that deserve the day. It's been a long time coming.

LESLIE HOWARD

What has?

GIL COHEN

One tribe.

Later that night, Gil sat with Maya at the bonfire as members of the tribe performed traditional ritual dances and chants. He wasn't sure whether Leslie would stay around, but it was always fun to spend time with Maya.

GIL COHEN

You having a good time?

MAYA

I never thought I could have this much fun again. These people are so much different than what I am used to.

GIL COHEN

It's the constant presence of the sun. It gives us all strength.

MAYA

What's going on with that CBS crew?

GIL COHEN

Yuma tipped them off.

MAYA

That girl is nice. She has a good spirit. (Looks for a reaction)

GIL COHEN

Uh-huh. (Not playing along) What's up with you and Yuma?

MAYA

(Elbows him in the ribs) Nice topic change. Don't think I'm gonna' stray too far from that tall, blonde drink of water until the end of the night.

GIL COHEN

I followed Yuma to the airport.

MAYA

(Sits up) So what happened?

GIL COHEN

We left on good terms. I offered him a job as my Director of Scouting and he didn't say no. (Pauses a few seconds) I know you two have an intense connection.

MAYA

(Gulps) I have to be honest with you. Half of the reason I came here was because I knew good things would happen to me if I were around you. The other half was because I knew Yuma was here.

GIL COHEN

Wow, does he know that?

MAYA

You know Yuma. It's hard to know what he's thinking. Do you think he'll come back? (Vulnerable)

GIL COHEN

(Didn't want to hurt her feelings, but tried to be direct) He's got to stop running at some point. I think he's got enough people that love him here that if it doesn't happen here, it won't happen anywhere.

MAYA

(Stronger) Well, I'm not counting on it and I'm not going to chase him again.

GIL COHEN

(Clasps her harm) Well, call me Nancy and stick me on the space shuttle!

MAYA

What?

GIL COHEN

Look up.

Standing above them in a hooded TRIBE sweatshirt was Yuma.

GIL COHEN

(Sarcastic) What happened? Did the check bounce?

YUMA

Yuma don't accept checks no more. Direct deposit only. (Prideful) Job offer still stand?

GIL COHEN

Did the airport close down.

Maya elbows Gil in the ribs to encourage him to stop fooling around.

GIL COHEN

(Stands up, shakes Yuma's hand) You got the job, Broadleaf. (They hug) Thanks for coming back, Yu.

YUMA

This one's gonna' nail my feet to the ground again. She can cook.

Gil waved goodbye to Maya and Yuma, and Yuma took his spot in the circle. She folded her arms and looked straight into the fire. Maya was inwardly elated to see Yuma, but she was also hurt that he could even consider leaving, if only for a few hours.

YUMA

(Knows that he's in the shit, so he wasted no time trying to paddle out) I'm sorry.

MAYA

(Turns toward him) You talk too much. (They kiss)

There was a reason that Gil never saw the woman that Yuma "entertained" for several nights—there never was a woman that is a woman besides Maya. It was Yuma's way of separating himself from Gil and the tribe. It was a rarity that he thought of spending so much time with one person, and he liked the feeling.

INT. AIRPORT TERMINAL

When Yuma got to the gate and announcement went over the loud speaker that pushed him back for good

AIRLINE ATTENDANT

This flight is oversold. If anyone would like to give up their spot on this flight, we are willing to offer a round-trip voucher for two in exchange.

Yuma couldn't get to the desk fast enough. That was the only sign he needed to see to know that his place was with the tribe – his place was with Maya.

EXT. NEW ATHLETIC FACILITY BONFIRE, NIGHT

Gil filmed some footage with Leslie and her crew near the bonfire and could feel the night winding down. He had thrown himself completely into work over the past nine months and he was exhausted.

GIL COHEN

(Turns to the crew) I'm gonna' head back to the hotel now. It's been a long day.

Leslie didn't have an immediate response, but that wasn't the way she imagined the day would end.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

What hotel are you staying at?

GIL COHEN

I'm at the Hyatt. At least until I get my own place.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

Yeah, that's where we're staying.

Bryan said as he nudged Jim the cameraman.

CAMERAMAN JIM

Hey Bry, you want to start dumping some of this stuff onto our feed?

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

Ugh, yeah Jimbo. Hey Gil, can you do us a favor and drive Leslie back to the hotel?

GIL COHEN

(Looks at Leslie, who nods in agreement) Sure.

The guys turned and walked away.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

We all have to get laid, and the only way to do that is to keep the boss-lady occupied.

CAMERAMAN JIM

Muchos gracias. The hotel bar was crawling with ladies.

Leslie never let the line between business and pleasure be blurred by her judgment. That is why she had an iron-clad "don't sleep where you work" policy. That was also why she was left to endure a 15-month dry streak. There was no motivation for a quickie and even less desire to maintain a relationship. She always had "the speech" ready in case a man, or the occasional woman, stepped up and tried to advance their case. Although she never had to use the dialogue in its entirety, the words were always stacked in a tight cue nonetheless.

EXT. GIL's car

She sat in the passenger seat of Gil's Prius and was having trouble locating the words for a change.

GIL COHEN

Why don't we...

LESLIE HOWARD

(Blurts) No!

GIL COHEN

(Laughs) It's a good thing I didn't finish my thought. Ten minutes from now you could have been splashing around in a bubble bath drinking champagne.

Leslie waited to laugh because she wasn't sure if Gil was kidding.

GIL COHEN

That's usually the part where people laugh. You might want to fill the awkward silence before I drive off the road.

LESLIE HOWARD

I'm sorry. I usually don't make it a habit of mixing business and pleasure.

GIL COHEN

What if your business was pleasure?

Leslie's brain was processing at the computer version of an ancient 386, so she offered little in the version of a reply.

GIL COHEN

Are you feeling okay?

LESLIE HOWARD

(Nods) Yeah, I'm great.

GIL COHEN

Listen. I'm going to be keeping it in my pants because it hasn't been out of my pants in, by the looks of it, about as long as you. Why don't we go back to my room, order some ice cream, watch a movie, and keep my pleasure and your business as far away from each other as possible. Take a deep breath for god's sake!

LESLIE HOWARD

(Finally laughs on cue) I would like that.

GIL COHEN

(Drops Leslie off in front of the hotel) I'll meet you up in my room number 244 in 10 minutes.

He parked the car and then walked through the automatic sliding door located in the front of the hotel. Gil nodded at the woman standing behind the front desk.

FRONT DESK WOMAN

Hello, Mr. Cohen. I have a message for you.

The message was in the form of a big plate-full of apple pie, courtesy of Maya.

GIL COHEN

Could you please have room service heat this up in a couple of large bowls, heap some vanilla ice cream on top, and then deliver to my room in about 20 minutes?

Gil knew 10 minutes to Leslie would mean at least 15 minutes in the real world. Punctual in business, usually a few minutes late when it didn't count, he figured.

He bought a couple of cold bottled waters from the hotel lobby gift shop and looked at the display of prophylactics behind the counter against the wall.

GIFT SHOP WOMAN

Can I get you anything else?

GIL COHEN

(Many thoughts darted through his mind) No, just the water.

Gil grabbed the water off the counter and strolled into the elevator. He then reached toward the number three button and then realized he had a piece of yellow paper, which looked like a folded Post-it, in his right hand. The note read,

Gil,

I am glad I had faith in you and faith in me.

Thanks for believing in me.

Love,

Maya

He smiled and slid the note into the right pocket of his gray dress slacks, which he slid off the moment he entered his room. It had been quite some time since he dressed for a special occasion, being used to reservation casual dress and all.

Pants were hung up and the light blue dress shirt was folded in a bag for dry cleaning. He slid on a pair of jean shorts and a Mitchell & Ness throwback New York Mets t-shirt. He then washed his face and quickly gargled with some mouthwash.

He was headed toward the TV when he heard a knock at the door. Room service and that delicious pie ala-mode were on his mind as he opened the door.

GIL COHEN

(Surprised) Leslie!

LESLIE HOWARD

(She walks in) Were you expecting someone else?

GIL COHEN

(Looks at her grey sweatpants and sweatshirt) No, just room service. You look sporty.

LESLIE HOWARD

Thanks! It's a good thing you're not a Yankees fan, or I would have been going to sleep early.

GIL COHEN

Come on in and make yourself comfortable.

She plopped on the left side of the bed as room service knocked on the door. He picked up the television clicker and tossed it to her like it was the front-end of a 4-6-3 double play. She caught it and they both smiled as he headed toward the door. The room service guy wheeled in two rather generous bowls of apple pie ala-mode and a couple of glasses of milk.

ROOM SERVICE GUY

(Signs for the bill and the guy walks out) Have a good night.

GIL COHEN

I took a leap of faith with the milk.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Joking) No, I am completely lactose intolerant. Thanks!

Gil handed her a bowl and set her glass on the nightstand next to her on the king bed.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Excited) This isn't Maya's apple pie, is it?

GIL COHEN

Yeah, how did you know?

LESLIE HOWARD

I ate a few pieces this afternoon. How did you get it?

GIL COHEN

It was waiting for me when I got back.

LESLIE HOWARD

That was nice of her. And you ordered the ice cream from room service. Good call on the vanilla bean, by the way.

Before Gil joined Leslie in the bed and propped himself up on the headboard, she handed him the remote and then reached for her bowl.

GIL COHEN

(Instead of flicking aimlessly around the channels and making Leslie dizzy, he looked at the channel guide) It's either *Pretty Woman,* *Last Samurai,* or *Naughty Stewardesses 7.*

She quickly realized he was kidding and started giggling, as the transition from professional to personal demeanor was effectively completed. Leslie took a huge spoonful of desert and then reached for her milk to wash down the orchard.

LESLIE HOWARD

Well, I've already seen NS7 and I thought five and six were much better.

Milk nearly shot from Gil's nose and a spit-take was narrowly averted. The apple pie ala-mode must have been some type of aphrodisiac, because it was having quite a loosening effect on Leslie.

LESLIE HOWARD

So, it's between Julia and Richard – alias Princess Vivian and Edward Lewis – or Tom Cruise getting his chi on?

The movie was three hours long as so was the conversation. Tom Cruise would have been pissed if he knew how much of his hard work was being ignored.

LESLIE HOWARD

Do you miss your wife?

GIL COHEN

I miss the thought of her.

LESLIE HOWARD

Do you think you'll marry again?

GIL COHEN

If I can find love that I can't live without. (Sitting in the tub chair next to the bed) What about you?

She was on her stomach lying diagonally across the bed. All Gil could think about was reaching over and kissing the hell out of her, but he was rusty as kids' peddle fire engine left out in the rain.

LESLIE HOWARD

Do I want to get married?

GIL COHEN

(Smiles) Yeah.

LESLIE HOWARD

(It was always difficult for Leslie to commit to a relationship before that moment, but as she looked into Gil's deep brown eyes she happily replied) Yes. (All the emotions pent-up inside of her threatened to make a run for it)

She nimbly rolled off the bed.

LESLIE HOWARD

Thanks for the pie and the excellent conversation. (Awkward) Don't get up, because that will probably cause me to do something completely irrational.

Leslie walked toward the door, thinking that there was nothing but hall lights and carpets between her and her room. She opened the door and turned back to wave goodbye.

Gil had always lived his life down the straight line of rationality, and all it got him was alone. In one swift motion, he slammed the door closed and backed Leslie into the door, all the while kissing her as passionately as he envisioned only moments earlier. It was true then, that visualization definitely enhanced actual results.

The action slowed after a good five minutes of making out.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Purrs) I like irrational.

Gil could barely stay on his feet from the standing ovation his body was giving him. He instantly knew that the madly-passionate exchange was better than any sex he had ever had.

LESLIE HOWARD

That definitely takes the edge off it. (He opens the door for her) I'll call for room service in the morning.

GIL COHEN

(Smiles) I'll bring the maple syrup. (The door closes)

The next morning, Gil expected to be awoken by a gentle knock on the door and Leslie bursting through the door, but the phone rang instead.

GIL COHEN

(Barely awake) Hello.

LESLIE HOWARD

I tried to call your cell phone but you must have turned it off.

GIL COHEN

I was expecting to see you this morning. What time is it?

LESLIE HOWARD

It's 7:15 and I'm on my way to the airport. I got a call this morning about an urgent story and had to race back to New York to cover it for next week's show.

GIL COHEN

Well, that's disappointing.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Had already transitioned back to her professional demeanor) I had fun last night. I'll call you early in the week.

Gil hung up the phone, still half-dazed but looking to see if she left some cash on the night table as she blew through town.

A few days became a week, albeit a long, checking his cell phone for messages every 10 minutes, kind of week.

INT. YUMA'S HOUSE

MAYA

(In the kitchen making lunch) She'll call.

GIL COHEN

(Dejected) What makes you so sure?

MAYA

(Put a grilled cheese with bacon in front of Gil) Because I could see it in her eyes. She's got it bad for you. Now eat up before Yu comes back from the grocery store and steals it.

Gil had all but lost his appetite for everything but Maya's cooking.

MAYA

Did you find a place yet?

GIL COHEN

Yeah, but the tribe agreed to sell me a vacant, five-acre lot about five miles from the sports complex. I'm gonna' stay in a two-bedroom townhouse until I can figure out what I want to do with it.

Maya knew that Gil would wait to make a decision until "they" could decide together. She figured that maybe it wasn't the most prudent way to live, but love tends to clear all boundaries between possible and impossible.

It had been almost two weeks since Leslie blew through town and Gil was almost over it. Almost.

INT. YUMA'S HOUSE

MAYA

Why don't you call her?

Gil waited patiently for his bacon, cheddar and basil omelette. Maya put the plate in front of him with some healthy seven-grain toast and a delicious drink blended with oranges, bananas, strawberries and a few cubes of ice. Gil took a bite of the omelet perched atop of some buttered toast, and then took a drink.

GIL COHEN

(Ignores her question) Mmm! Did you take a look at that location I told you about?

She grabbed a rag and started cleaning the countertop.

MAYA

Nah, I sent Yu over there. I was too nervous to look.

YUMA

(Sitting across the table from Gil talks to Maya) You're gonna' like it.

GIL COHEN

I'll take you over there today. Yu, you up for a little excursion?

YUMA

You buying dinner?

GIL COHEN

Don't I always. Why do people always say that Jews are cheap?

YUMA

Every Jew I've ever met has been generous.

MAYA

Yeah, me too. But they do tend to send things back at an alarming rate.

Gil couldn't argue with that. His Aunt Sophie was a notorious restaurant returner. Her meal never seemed to be cooked just right even if it was prepared exactly the way she asked for it.

GIL COHEN

We'll have to get more of my brotha's and sista's out here.

MAYA

You better start with that tall blonde with those long spider legs.

Gil wasn't about to chase, but he also wasn't about to let it go easy, either. He found a lens cap that for a camera that one of Leslie's guys was using. He dropped it in a FedEx package and tossed in the following note:

Jim,

You and Bryan must have dropped this in all the confusion.

Those girls from the bar were talking about you guys at the brunch on the next day. You must have thought ahead and given them an alias, because they were making plans to visit you in California!

Regards,

Gil

INT. CBS CONTROL ROOM

Jim and Bryan sat in the control room one afternoon as a secretary walked in and handed Bryan the FedEx package.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

Dude, you got a FedEx.

Jim tore open the tab and removed its contents, a tightly wrapped square of tissue paper with a note taped to the outside.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

I didn't know it was your birthday?

CAMERAMAN JIM

It's not. (He unravels the paper) It's my lens.

Jim's eyes widened as he read the note. He looked at Bryan like he wasn't sure whether he should say who the package was from. Leslie picked up her head and started questioning like a good reporter.

LESLIE HOWARD

You lost your lens cap? Where did you lose it?

CAMERAMAN JIM

(was doing his best to stall) On one of our recent shoots.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Motions) Let me see the note.

CAMERAMAN JIM

It's personal.

She grabbed the box off the top of the editing console and quickly looked for the sender's name.

LESLIE HOWARD

Oh, shit.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

(Whispers to Jim) Lunch. (They stood up slowly to try and make a clean exit)

LESLIE HOWARD

(Looks at her watch) Where are you guys going?

CAMERAMAN JIM

Lunch.

LESLIE HOWARD

It's 9:30 a.m.!

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

I'm an early riser.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Hits her) You guys think I blew it, don't you?

CAMERAMAN JIM

Do you?

LESLIE HOWARD

I don't know? Why don't you guys take lunch. Here's 20 dollars.

They said thanks and then Leslie started her manhunt. She had misplaced his number but still had the receipt from the hotel, because she had to submit an expense report that afternoon. The trail went from hotel to sports complex to Gil's cell phone voice mail. Gil made it a habit of never answering called from 212, preferring to get the message and then prepare himself before talking to New York.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Leaves a message) Gil, it's Leslie. Leslie Howard, ugh, Howerstein. I got busy, but not too busy to do what I should have done weeks ago. Thanks for the lens cap.

Gil listened to the message a few minutes later and was filled to the brim with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he obviously wanted to call because he sent the package to her office. But, he wondered if she would have ever called if he hadn't taken the first step.

After much internal debating, he felt angry that he always had to do most of the work with women. Was he so pathetic and weak that women were able to bat him around like a defenseless mouse, or was his taste in women permanently off?

MAYA

I wouldn't give up so fast. It's only been a couple of weeks and you're starting to act a little needy.

It was like telling a kid in a candy shop that he was allergic to sugar and couldn't eat anything. Gil decided to send Leslie a text message instead:

L,

I'll get back to you within a few days.

G

Bryan and Jim returned from an early lunch/late breakfast and instantly noticed through the glass the somber look of regret on Leslie's face.

JIM AND BRYAN

(Look at each other) Therapy session.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

You have the fudge?

CAMERAMAN JIM

Yeah, do you want to give it to her?

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

I don't want to give it to her! The last time I stuck my hand through the bars she almost bit it off! Just put it in front of her and sit down. She'll easily detect the natural scent of the fudge block.

Jim casually set the saran-wrapped, two-inch square in front of Leslie without her noticing. Then they sat in chairs on either side of her. Leslie was reading Gil's text message.

LESLIE HOWARD

I don't understand. Hey, it's fudge!

The guys looked at each other and smiled.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

We got back just after the fudge.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Breaks down) You guys are so nice to me!

They moved closer once she took a bite and they realized it was safe.

LESLIE HOWARD

Gil texted me after I left him a voicemail. (She held it up for the guys to read)

CAMERAMAN JIM

Wow, that's cold.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

Thought for sure he would call right away.

LESLIE HOWARD

What are you guys mumbling about?Why do I always do this? I like someone and then I show them absolutely no interest.

CAMERAMAN JIM

You're frigid.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

You have daddy issues.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Shocked) What? What the hell are you guys talking about? I'm not frigid and I loved my cheating-with-his-secretary father!

Jim quickly got up and dashed out of the control room door and out of the building in search of additional sweets. Leslie was crashing before his eyes and her survival depended on whether he could find the magical healing powers of the Reece's Peanut Butter Cup.

INT. DUANE REED DRUGSTORE

CAMERAMAN JIM

(Scans the shelves and sees Reece's Pieces) She's not E fuckin' T.

He then located the familiar orange and brown, two-pack rectangular wrapper and grabbed as many as he could carry and brought them back to the office. The journey was rough and fraught with danger on the unforgiving New York City streets, so he had to keep the load down on his saturated fat-consuming frame and make sure his communications device was close by In case he veered off course.

INT. CBS CONTROL ROOM

Sixty-three seconds later, Jim used his last ounce of compartmentalized energy and crashed through the control room door, sweaty and slightly out of breath.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

Dude, you have to get back in the gym with me.

Jim nodded in agreement and then walked the peanut butter delicacies over to Leslie, who scarfed down the last bite of the fudge.

LESLIE HOWARD

You guys think I'm pathetic.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

I don't think you're pathetic, but Jim here has a few Issues with you. (Joking)

CAMERAMAN JIM

I've never outwardly admitted that, at least not in your presence.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Unfazed as she plows into the cups) When was the last time you guys think I had sex?

CAMERAMAN JIM

Wow, that's awkward.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

I'm not sure if this would qualify as sexual harassment?

LESLIE HOWARD

(Leslie threw a cup down her throat like a seagull swallowing a fish) You guys should take that shit on the road, you're so funny. I would laugh but the jokes are about me and they're coming from cake and the fat man.

The two bloated men looked at each other.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

I want to be cake!

CAMERAMAN JIM

Why do I always have to be the fat man?

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

Because you walked two doors down to Duane Reed and came back blotchy and sweaty.

CAMERAMAN JIM

Good point.

LESLIE HOWARD

It's been a few years.

Bryan looked at Jim with amazement and Jim reached into his pocket and handed him five bucks.

CAMERAMAN JIM

Why do I always underestimate her?

LESLIE HOWARD

Did you guys bet on that?

CAMERAMAN JIM

Yeah, we bet on all sorts of things on the road.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

Why did you tell her? Now we're going to have to cut her in on the action.

CAMERAMAN JIM

We once bet on whether you would eat the cherry on top of that hot fudge sundae you ordered when we were in Vermont.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

Yeah, I won that one.

CAMERAMAN JIM

And then there was the time I thought for sure that your nipples would show when we were doing that shoot in Alaska.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

Yeah, those things never stood at attention and there was a real chill in the air. What, do you have puffy nipples or something?

If Leslie wasn't drowning in the comfort of mainstream chocolate, she might have lunged at Jim and scratched his eyes out.

LESLIE HOWARD

If you must know, I was wearing an ace bandage to hold them down. I do that often.

Jim and Bryan were even more curious and stared directly at Leslie's chest.

CAMERAMAN JIM

So, what are you packin' there?

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

I bet...

Leslie stood up and quickly picked up her shirt revealing a pair of lovely 38D breasts barely constrained by a white lace bra.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Looks at both guys) Didn't you have a bet?

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

Yeah, but I didn't have those. (Points at her chest)

Leslie looks at Jim for a comment.

CAMERAMAN JIM

No. Those should be in a museum.

She stuck out both of her hands and both men quickly deposited a five-dollar bill in each palm.

LESLIE HOWARD

The answer to the next three questions are, Yes, battery-operated and on top, as far as I can remember.

The guys absorbed the titillating revelations.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

Gil was the one, boss.

CAMERAMAN JIM

Yeah, that pale-face could give you the ride of your life.

SOUNDGUY BRYAN

We saw him in the shower, and let me just tell you...

CAMERAMAN JIM

Huge!

They all laughed as Leslie threw balled paper at them and they fired back.

Leslie's first solo special happened to air on the same day as she started therapy. "A TRIBE OF ONE" the special was titled and all of the tribe gathered at a local drive-in to watch together on the huge outdoor screen.

EXT. DRIVE-IN SCREENING

Tears streamed down Gil's tanned face as Leslie spoke the words.

LESLIE HOWARD

It is a special place, inhabited by special people. I hope to return there one day to discover my own piece of understanding.

Gil took out his phone and sent a text message to Leslie:

"The door is always open."

Leslie got the message after receiving layers of praise from co-workers and network brass. She was on her way to stardom and an even bigger network job, which meant that any hopes of a personal life would most likely be flushed out with the tide.

She had trouble finding a quiet corner, so she escaped to the bathroom.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Texts) Is is the real thing?

GIL COHEN

(Texts) We have been reborn.

INT. THERAPY SESSION

LESLIE HOWARD

(Thought back to her often-rocky childhood) I always wished I was someone else.

DR. LINDA MURRAY

Do you still have those same feelings?

LESLIE HOWARD

(Bows her head) Personally, yes. Professionally, no.

DR. LINDA MURRAY

Can you act on those feelings?

LESLIE HOWARD

I'm not sure.

DR. LINDA MURRAY

What would make you sure?

Just then it hit Leslie, a week later, after coming up big with her television special that was replayed due to popular demand - it was time. She stood up and stuck out her hand to Dr. Murray after only a few minutes of their session.

LESLIE HOWARD

Who says therapy doesn't work?!

The surprised doctor shook Leslie's hand and then watched her walk out of the office door. Leslie had done much research about Gil since they met and realized that he gave up everything he had worked for to reach for everything he lived for.

INT. CBS NEWS OFFICES

Back at the office, there were loud rumblings \- like a Ford Mustang Cobra was driving through - that Leslie would be offered the big network job, but her response was still a work-in-process. She sat in relative calm one Friday night in her office as her cell phone vibrated.

LESLIE HOWARD

Hello.

MARILYN HOWERSTEIN BERGER

Hello, yourself!

Leslie often wondered how her mother could be so irritated even before the conversation had begun.

MARILYN HOWERSTEIN BERGER

(Demands) Don't forget to drop that tape off from the show.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Her first instinct was to smash the phone into unrecognizable pieces, but she hung in there) Mom. Why don't you use that Tivo I got you?

MARILYN HOWERSTEIN BERGER

Tivo, schmimo. You know I don't know how to work that thing!

LESLIE HOWARD

It does all of the work for you.

MARILYN HOWERSTEIN BERGER

I just figured out how to use the VHS machine.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Mumbles) Another 20 years and you'll get the hang of using a laptop.

MARILYN HOWERSTEIN BERGER

What? Are you mumbling again? You know I can't hear so well out of my right ear! It's a wonder anyone can understand you on TV!

Leslie quickly hit her annoyance quotient for the day and was ready to move on.

MARILYN HOWERSTEIN BERGER

Are you going to stop by this weekend? Ed would like to see you.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Thinks) Of course that mother-fucker would like to see me! He hasn't inappropriately fondled me this week!

That was the final push that Leslie needed, hearing that her groping Pedophile of a stepfather had lonely hands.

LESLIE HOWARD

(To her mother) No, I think I'm going out of town this weekend.

MARILYN HOWERSTEIN BERGER

Where are you going now? You should get a steadier job and settle down in one place already!

LESLIE HOWARD

I'm going to Arizona.

MARILYN HOWERSTEIN BERGER

Who can stand the heat there? When will you be back?

LESLIE HOWARD

(Sits back in her chair and gazes toward the ceiling in her office) I'm not sure.

INT. LAGUARDIA AIRPORT

Leslie walked up to the ticket counter of Southwest Airlines with no luggage, and bought a one-way, first-class ticket to Arizona with her enormous frequent-flyer miles.

INT. AIRPLANE

She sat in her comfortable seat on the half-empty, last flight out of New York's LaGuardia Airport for the night. Leslie then reached in her purse and pulled out her phone.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Texts) Flight 695.

Gil almost jumped out of his shoes, literally, because he was wearing sandals when he received the message. He had to quickly adjust his schedule once he surfed and retrieved - shows would have to be recorded and his grilled chicken and pasta dinner would have to occupy space in the fridge for another day instead of his stomach.

Leslie was sitting in the window seat of the third row of the plane. She looked out of the scratched-up, oval window as the plane sped down the runway and climbed into the nighttime sky. She picked up her right hand and waved goodbye to the city that reared her, that raised her, that ultimately caused her to seek more meaning in life.

Gil had almost three hours once he showered and changed. Although he had spent the better part of the past 20 years in constant planning mode, he found this personal spur-of-the-moment a little more difficult to plan. But, after a lukewarm-to-cool shower and a clean shave, his mind was excitedly-relaxed and surprisingly focused.

Flashbacks were the order of the evening as Leslie made her way through the air - and Gil via the ground - to the airport. Leslie flashed back to a day when her parents were getting along. In her half-awake state, she remembered a day when the three of them spent the day at the Coney Island Aquarium. She must have been no more than seven years old at the time. Whenever Leslie feared that she would never marry, the aquarium flashback would pop into her head as proof that marriage could work. For her, it was enough momentum to guide her to the airport.

The sun was setting on Gil's ride to the airport. It was mid fall, but the sun still blazed from dawn to dusk. His flashback was one that he had never re-experienced, other than the first time it happened. He was lying on the bed watching TV In what looked like a hotel. Gil was able to see himself from a view looking down on the bed. His cell phone rang and he answered it while watching the news in a hotel. He viewed the blank stare on his face and then looked at the TV, realizing he was watching Leslie in her early years. While he was told to "come home," he secretly wondered what it would be like to "come home" to someone like Leslie Howard. The flashback closed and Gil opened his window and yelled, "Schmuck!"

The breeze whispered back, "Better late than never, putz..."

INT. AIRPORT TERMINAL

Leslie walked off the plane with her purse slung over her right shoulder and all of the hopes and dreams of a seven year-old girl. During prime travel times, a line of car service people would line up in the baggage claim area, but on this night there was only a lone representative waiting in a motorized cart with a small white sign that read "HOWARD."

She did a double take and then signaled to the elderly black gentleman that she was indeed "Howard." The man escorted Leslie into the two-seat vehicle.

CART DRIVER

Do you have a nice flight, Miss Howard?

LESLIE HOWARD

Yes, thank you. And you are?

CART DRIVER

My name is Miles, and that is all I am at liberty to discuss with you, Miss Howard.

He turned the corner and was guided down the corridor by bright white pizza boxes with red lettering that read, "Brooklyn Pizza" and the slogan "A Slice of the Neighborhood."

The airport was essentially empty except for the few people on Leslie's flight, but those people bolted in the opposite direction for baggage claim and ground transportation. Leslie hoped she had left most of her baggage behind, preferring to start this experience with a clean slate. Miles followed the trail of boxes until he turned slightly right into the mouth of Brooklyn Pizza. The place was dimly lit by a series of candles that led Leslie to a table located in the back. Miles smiles as he turned his vehicle around and headed on his way to his wife of 43 years... it was the best part of his day.

As Leslie drew closer she could vaguely make out the image of a smiling Gil in the shadows. Her steps came one after the other in the kind of slow-motion only reserved for lifelong memories. Gil threw together the plan at the last minute, but he had no idea what would happen next until he locked eyes with Leslie. He stood up slowly and could feel the heat of the lioness gain intensity with every breath.

Gil inhaled and drew Leslie closer as they met in a passionate embrace that lips only dream about when they're not eating or avoiding sucker-punches. The pizza was getting cold but not a word was spoken during the 15-minute grope-fest, unless you consider moans and heavy sighs as the fluent dialogue of passion.

GIL COHEN

I'd take you right here on the table if this wasn't an airport restaurant.

LESLIE HOWARD

Yeah, we need to get a room.

GIL COHEN

I have one of those.

LESLIE HOWARD

Get the pizza to go.

Gil stuffed the pizza in a box as they held hands and shuffled off to his car. They almost didn't make it to Gil's townhome, as the 20-minute drive did little to reduce the heat. The petting and stroking made the word 'foreplay' feel good about its underutilized self for a change.

Speaking of clothing, it was flying everywhere even before Gil unlocked the door to his townhouse.

INT. GIL'S RENTED TOWNHOUSE

GIL COHEN

This is my place.

LESLIE HOWARD

Nice. Real nice. (He moves on top of her and easily enters the afterworld)

The neighbors must have thought the space shuttle was reentering the earth's atmosphere by the sound of the sonic boom exploding from Gil's place. The 34 seconds of hypnotic thrusting and gyrating seemed to produce wave after wave after glorious wave of pleasure that both cleansed its participants and left them famished from the activity.

LESLIE HOWARD

You still have the pizza?

GIL COHEN

(Rolls on his back) I think it's under you.

She laughed and then they dined on the finest smashed pizza this side of Brooklyn. Fifteen minutes later, pizza crust was flying and they were going at it again. Gil started the 10-minute session on top and then Leslie finished them both off by taking the car for a ride.

GIL COHEN

Why don't I show you the rest of this place. (They had not progressed past the front foyer) The shower is upstairs.

They walked nakedly, but in full comfort, into the bathroom. Leslie was usually quite timid about revealing her body to other people, except her cameraman and sound guy, but this was different.

GIL COHEN

(Turns on the glass-enclosed shower tub) I have this dream about building a waterfall shower.

LESLIE HOWARD

In here?

GIL COHEN

No, no. I have another place in mind.

They showered in the small space and then Leslie walked into the bedroom, where Gil was lying on the bed.

LESLIE HOWARD

I'm going to need to get some clothes tomorrow.

It was a clothing optional evening and Gil was wearing nothing but a huge smile when she snuggled close to him in the king-sized bed. Her body melted into his as she rested her head on his chest. Gil clicked the TV on and the reached over to his right and turned off the light.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Fully relaxed) It's been a long day.

GIL COHEN

It's been one of my best.

Leslie nodded in agreement and then snuggled closer. Gil felt Leslie's breathing become more regular as she transitioned into a deep sleep. He clicked on SportsCenter and then felt her jump, undoubtedly in the early stages of a bad dream. He stroked her hair and she settled back into a more delicate sleeping pattern. After a few more minutes, Gil turned off the TV and drifted from dreams come true to dreams yet to be... the dream-catcher above his bed made sure of that.

Maya hadn't heard from Gil in the morning, so she decided to make breakfast and deliver it herself. Gil had given her a key initially as a backup, but then realized that she was dropping off food every day. Once through the door, Maya walked straight into the kitchen and her eyes widened when she saw and long-legged woman wearing only a New York Jets, Joe Namath jersey.

Leslie was making coffee and expected to see Gil when she heard some rustling.

MAYA

(Excited) Leslie!

LESLIE HOWARD

Maya!

The two women hugged as Maya felt elation and then embarrassment for intruding on what was surely a blessed event.

MAYA

I'm sorry.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Brushes it off) No worries. Hey, I'm gonna' need to get some clothes later. Do you want to go with me?

MAYA

Is noon good for you? (Hands a still-warm plate of food to Leslie)

LESLIE HOWARD

(Peaks under the tin foil) Yes. Wow! That looks great! Thanks!

Gil came down and Maya's faced turn bright red. He was barely wearing a light robe.

MAYA

(Moves quickly towards the door) I'll swing by at noon.

GIL COHEN

(Waves goodbye) Thanks, Maya!

MAYA

(Maya backed out of the small driveway and quickly called Yuma) You're not going to believe what I just saw...

A few hours later, Maya and Yuma stopped by and the girls quickly made their way out the car.

EXT. MAYA'S CAR

MAYA

Nice outfit. (She looks at Leslie's baggy gray sweatpants and Mets t-shirt.

LESLIE HOWARD

I did my best in such short notice.

MAYA

Are you saying that you came here with nothing more than that killer body and a smile?

LESLIE HOWARD

(Laughs) I had to be out of my mind... but it was the smartest, most rational thing I have ever done - aside from the lack of clothing, makeup and hair products.

MAYA

(Pulls up to a red light) That's quite a guy you have there. (The light turns green and she puts her foot on the gas) I would have kept him for myself but I'm kinda' into dark-skinned guys.

Maya looked over and smiled, effectively breaking any hint of competitive tension between them.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Smiles) Thanks for the leftovers.

Meanwhile, back at the townhouse, Yuma and Gil were on familiar recent ground. Ever since Yuma came back, he and Gil hadn't talked like old friends. Gil was still hurt and generally kept their conversations on a professional level.

INT. GIL'S TOWNHOUSE

YUMA

Looks like you had a good time last night.

GIL COHEN

(Blankly replies) Yeah, it was fun.

YUMA

(Had enough) You gonna' give me shit for the rest of our journey, amigo?

GIL COHEN

(Gets his Irish up) Fuck you, man! You would have screwed me real hard If not for Maya!

YUMA

(Tries to lighten the mood) I never was into you that way, bro'. Although there was this one time when you were sleeping on your stomach...

GIL COHEN

Whoa! Keep your sick fantasies to yourself, Sybil!

The two men laughed and without another word spoken, the rift expired like a bottle of old cough syrup that was sitting in the back of the medicine cabinet too long.

The sports program was merely a building block for the tribe. Sometimes the largest of fires begins with a small spark, but that wasn't the case with this controlled blaze. Within the first year of existence, the Tribe Sports Complex had become as competitive and productive as any league before it. The level of competition was ramped up so fast, in fact, that scouts were now filtering through what was previously a barren wasteland.

Initially, most of the attention was on Kelly Thorpe and his golden left arm. Kelly relied heavily on Gil to keep him grounded and focused as he transitioned from football to basketball to baseball, and then summer lacrosse.

EXT. BASEBALL FIELD, DAY

KELLY THORPE

I got a call today from someone who says he knows you.

Kelly was standing in the left side of the batter's box while Gil pitched to him. Gil fired an 85 mile-per-hour fastball and Kelly turned on it and hit it into the right centerfield gap - the ball took one hop and then caromed off the 325-foot signed at the top of the six-foot wall.

GIL COHEN

(Grabs another baseball and says to himself) let it go, meat! (Then asks Kelly as he winds up) What was his name?

KELLY THORPE

(Replies as Gil releases the ball) Stanley Wilson.

The 88-mile an hour fastball crashed into Kelly's aluminum bat, and then exploded into the air and over the right field fence.

GIL COHEN

What else did he say?

KELLY THORPE

(Smiling and cocky) He told me he could help me get a scholarship to a good college.

GIL COHEN

(Rolls his eyes and stands without a ball on the mound) Like you need him. What is rule number one?

KELLY THORPE

(Turns serious) We work clean.

GIL COHEN

(Walks a few steps off the mound toward Kelly) If you start taking money or favors from anyone, then the NCAA will take you down. People will ride you to the top and then get off way before you crash. You also have this entire community counting on you - you are the great red hope for people all over the world.

KELLY THORPE

(Looks down toward the dirt and then picks up his head to respond) No pressure there.

GIL COHEN

(Doesn't want to hear that) The only pressure you have is between the lines. The only thing you should be focusing on doing the best that you can. The rest of these insignificant details will take care of itself.

It didn't take Leslie long to assimilate into the tribe. Within a week of landing in Arizona and buying enough clothes until her stuff arrived, she walked into the high school and was handed the keys to the new communications program. A donation from an 'anonymous' donor made the program possible. The salary was a fraction of what she was offered on the same day by CBS network, which flew the president of news out to convince her to come home. Little did he know that she was already home.

Leslie told Larry Sherman she would sleep on his generous offer. She wasn't so indecisive with Principal Seabrook, however.

LESLIE HOWARD

I'll take it!

INT. MARSHALL'S

Gil stretched his legs at the local Marshall's while Leslie and her new boss high-browed it at Starbucks. The cookie-cutter strip mall could have been located in any upscale area around the country, save for the arid temperatures and natives indigenous to the area.

Leslie stretched her legs once she was done with the meeting, and instinctively walked into Marshalls and straight through the women's section to the intimate's area. Gil had grown tired of sorting through racks of forgetful XXL clothing and walked into the main aisle until he was stopped in his tracks by the sight of a beautiful woman thumbing through lacy bras. It was one of those moments he wished he could have been instantly transported to the confines of his own bedroom, because he would have taken here right there.

Gil stood still as Leslie picked up her head for an instant like a deer hearing a branch snap in the distance. She looked over to her left and spotted Gil, who was smiling from ear to ear. Her smile became equally as wide as she knew it was time to take her hands off unused bras and unhook her own three clip fortress in mere minutes.

They sped home and 20 minutes later, fireworks were exploding all over the bedroom.

INT. GIL'S RENTED TOWNHOUSE

GIL COHEN

You hungry?

LESLIE HOWARD

Yes.

GIL COHEN

I just want to make one stop before we go out to eat.

EXT. GIL'S CAR

Gil drove his dark gray Prius toward the high school.

LESLIE HOWARD

Are we going to the high school?

GIL COHEN

No, just a little further.

the intense sun made its assent on the rocky landscape. He pulled off the main road and the terrain got a little more uneven for a few hundred yards until the car rolled quietly to a standstill.

GIL COHEN

This is it. (He gets out of the car and she follows suit)

The couple stood in a vast, dirt field with a single yellow flower blooming in a barren pitch.

GIL COHEN

(Walks in front of the car) After I met you, I started thinking about a lot of things. And after I fantasized about the fun stuff, I pondered on the impact a relationship would have on my life. (He pauses) The answers to your questions are no and yes. No, I didn't bring you here to propose to you and yes, I do love you.

They kiss.

LESLIE HOWARD

The answers to your questions are yes, I love you, too, and yes, I took the job at the high school over the network job in New York.

The kiss again.

GIL COHEN

I bought this three and-a-half acre property the week you left. I thought we could build our house here together. The tribe made me an offer I couldn't refuse for the land.

Leslie looked around the peaceful surroundings and then jumped into Gil's arms.

LESLIE HOWARD

This is all so surreal.

GIL COHEN

Tell me about it. But I think I like surreal.

LESLIE HOWARD

(Rests her head comfortably on his shoulder) Yeah, me too.

As time progressed, the courtship of Kelly Thorpe went from a soft zone to a full-court press. Gil and Yuma constantly talked about what the right decision would be for Kelly, who was now 6'5" and 225 pounds. It was hard to tell, at least athletically, whether a baseball contract with a pro team or a football scholarship at a college would be the right move.

YUMA

I think he could turn pro in both sports tomorrow.

GIL COHEN

But what kind of message would that send to the next generation? We're trying to send the right message... the staying in school message.

YUMA

Is this a literacy campaign or a kid's life?

GIL COHEN

(Thinks) We both know that kids like this come along once in a lifetime. Maybe twice if you really live a long time. He can always play in the majors after college. There will always be interest in a lefty that can throw 98 and also changes speeds.

YUMA

(Ponders the fate of a nation) What does the kid think?

GIL COHEN

He wants to speak to a few agents to see what they have to say.

YUMA

(Eyes grow wide) Just make sure there is no pen in the room. We don't want to repeat the Jim Thorpe nightmare.

GIL COHEN

Yeah, having you're amateur status revoked, including having to give back Olympic gold medals, because you signed a pro contract, is not the path we want to follow. The kid knows the history... he just wants to explore his options.

YUMA

Why wouldn't he let you be his agent?

GIL COHEN

(Already knew the solution) Have patience, Yu. Have patience.

With the approval of the NCAA, the sanctioning body for college athletics, Kelly was allowed to talk with three agents. In fact, since Kelly was such a high-profile recruit, the NCAA sent a representative from Kansas City to Arizona to monitor the discussions. It appeared that no one wanted the mistakes of the great Jim Thorpe to be repeated.

Gil and Leslie decided to take in a movie while the interviews commenced. He was as protective as if Kelly was his own son. It had been months since Stanley Wilson and Gil had spoken. Ever since Kelly Thorpe came on the full radar, the relationship between the two men had grown conspicuously quiet. Gil expected his protégé to go all-out for the client of the century, even though he knew Gil was sitting in the kid's backyard.

To Stanley's credit, he had grown Gil's comfortable little shop into a full-blown athletics and entertainment talent agency in only three years. Revenues had grown 300% from the $30 million Gil generated in his last year to $120 million in the current fiscal year. Stanley gladly traded in Gil's more organic, grass-roots style for all of the creature comforts of corporate America. Not that he had ever spent a day of his life in corporate America, going from Uniondale High School to nearby Hofstra University to the National Football League to being Gil's shadow.

Stanley bought a team of agents and other tag-alongs with him to the meeting with Kelly Thorpe and the NCAA representative in Arizona. The bespeckled NCAA guy shadowed Kelly everywhere he went, even monitoring the whereabouts of people when Kelly went to the bathroom.

Kelly and the NCAA's Bill Parkinson walked into the sports facility's conference/media room. he eight seats surrounded the unique, oval distressed wood table where the talking heads were ready to pitch their shallow, phony heads off. Parkinson looked around the table and then looked at Stanley in disgust.

BIL PARKINSON

You got five minutes to clear this room out. Only one person is allowed to remain.

Kelly went out into the hallway and fired off a text message to Gil, who was about mid-way through his chick flick. He felt a vibration in his pocket and initially thought that Leslie was getting a little frisky, before he realized that it was his phone that was stimulating his loins.

The text read, "He brought an army."

Gil replied, "It's gonna' take a village."

He slid his phone back in his pants and comforted Leslie as the main character was losing her battle with an incurable disease, while the love of her life jumped off a bridge and was intensive care only a few days after they had to put their dog to sleep. They all met in heaven at the end of the movie, though...

Kelly looked at Gil's reply and smiled as he was ushered into the room by Parkinson.

Stanley was a tall, well-built black man who obviously maintained his gym membership. He greeted Kelly with a big handshake and even bigger smile.

STANLEY WILSON

We have prepared a little movie for you, Kelly.

The lights dimmed and a five-minute presentation titled, "The Kelly Thorpe Story" rumbled through like a Hollywood movie preview. When the lights were turned back on, Kelly looked at Bill Parkinson and wondered if he had to sit through the whole presentation.

STANLEY WILSON

I know you have become close with Gil Cohen. I was Gil's first client when he became an agent. Now that he's no longer an agent, I am the closest thing you're going to get to Gil. (Smiles at Perkinson) That is, if you're going to get the representation you need to turn pro in baseball. (Pulls out a full-color chart) We project that you will be the first pick in the Major League baseball Amateur Draft, with a signing bonus in excess of 15 million dollars. (Parkinson shot Stanley a fatherly look) Of course, that number could also be as low as five million, depending on market conditions.

Parkinson nodded in approval.

KELLY THORPE

(Plays along, just as he did for the other two agents) So, you're really not sure how much I'll make if I turn pro?

Stanley wished that Parkinson wasn't sitting in the room, because he would have scooped up the vault of cash sitting in front of him in human form.

STANLEY WILSON

No.

KELLY THORPE

What about football?

Stanley looked deeply into Kelly's light brown eyes, giving the appearance of searching deep into his soul for the answer. Maybe the maize and gold colors of the University of Michigan had bled, or a University of Florida gator was on the loose?

STANLEY WILSON

Only you know that answer, but if I was advising you...

A few minutes later...

GIL COHEN

He didn't say Hofstra, did he?

KELLY THORPE

(Laughs and takes a sip of soda) No, sorry.

GIL COHEN

Then he definitely went with Florida.

Kelly laughed again and then turned serious. While he had a strong relationship with Gil, it was more of an uncle-nephew vibe than a mentor-mentee tip. But on this day, Kelly finally decided to cut through all of the bullshit and set his future on the right track.

KELLY THORPE

If you were advising me, what would you say?

GIL COHEN

(Was still in a casual mood) I would have said Hofstra!

KELLY THORPE

(Playfully tapped on the arm with the back of his hand) No, seriously.

GIL COHEN

(Had been waiting for the green light) Seriously?

KELLY THORPE

Seriously.

Gil sat back on the bench and crossed his legs. Kelly knew he was serious, because this was Gil's thinking position. Gil clasped his hands behind his head and school was now in session. A few seconds later he began.

GIL COHEN

You know that you have to go to college? Right?

KELLY THORPE

Right. Knowledge is the only way.

GIL COHEN

Now, that doesn't mean that you can't play baseball and football in college if you want to, but you'll gain much more visibility by playing major college football. Last time I checked you had narrowed it down to three schools: Michigan, Florida, and USC. Have you ever been to Michigan?

KELLY THORPE

No.

GIL COHEN

Good school, cold winter, infinite sea of blonde, white people.

KELLY THORPE

I don't do snow.

GIL COHEN

You will when you play in the NFL.

KELLY THORPE

Then I'll wait until then.

GIL COHEN

I know you've already visited Florida. What did you think?

KELLY THORPE

Great parties, hot women, great program.

GIL COHEN

Yeah, that's out. Your grades are too good to settle for the football-only route.

KELLY THORPE

So, I'm going to USC?

GIL COHEN

(Tilts his head to the right) Not necessarily.

Kelly looked confused and was frustrated.

GIL COHEN

Just give me a minute to explain. USC's a decent school and you've seen those cheerleaders up close when you visited the school, but I think you can do better.

KELLY THORPE

Better than USC?

GIL COHEN

(Nods confidently) Better than USC.

The truth was that Gil's second client after he graduated from Hofstra was Gary Koenig, the school's all-time leading passer. Koenig played 10 years in the NFL, mostly as a back-up quarterback, but he developed a reputation as a brilliant game planner before his playing days ended.

The year Gary retired from the NFL, his pro coach decided to return to his college alma mater, Stanford University. Bringing Gary along as his offensive coordinator was a no-brainer - in their first year, the team averaged 30 points per game employing Gary's version of the spread offense. The team lost to USC on a late field goal as the final gun sounded. After that game, head coach Mack Lewis suffered a heart attack and then stepped down a week later from the head coaching position. Koenig was named interim coach on the spot and then was promoted to permanent head coach after the team's victory over South Carolina in the Liberty Bowl.

Gil and Gary Spoke often over the years and happened to talk the week before Gil sat down with Kelly.

GARY KOENIG

College is a lot different than pro, Bert. (He had given Gil the nickname "Bert" because his name was Gilbert)

GIL COHEN

You think the program can be turned around?

GARY KOENIG

We got a bunch of really smart kids that soak up all of the plays like they have them written on the back of their hands.

GIL COHEN

Any quarterbacks as good as you?

GARY KOENIG

We have a few kids but nobody I can count on to really stretch the field. How's the kid you got over there?

GIL COHEN

Are you telling me you haven't seen him play?

GARY KOENIG

I've seen enough to know he's probably gonna' wave on his way to USC.

GIL COHEN

Did you know that he could get into Stanford purely on his grades?

GARY KOENIG

(Sits up) What's his major going to be?

GIL COHEN

(Smiles) Quantum physics.

GARY KOENIG

(Excited) Yeah, we have that.

GIL COHEN

Yeah, I know.

GARY KOENIG

Any chance we could get the kid out here for a visit?

GIL COHEN

I'll get back to you on that one. I'm trying not to influence his decision too much, but I have my instructions from the elders.

GARY KOENIG

(Kids) They give you instructions?

GIL COHEN

(Smirks) I'll get back to you in a week or so.

Kelly scheduled a trip to Stanford University the next weekend. While his visits usually began with a tour of the practice facility of being handed a number '12' jersey with the name "THORPE" on the back, this one was noticeably different. By the time Kelly toured the practice facility with his parents, he had already spent four hours talking to professors and students in the physics lab. His parents went ahead to the practice facility after 15 minutes of watching their son light up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.

KELLY THORPE

(Walks into the athletic facility and smiles from ear to ear) Sorry, coach, I got carried away.

GARY KOENIG

Most of our student-athletes do. Students first, athletics second.

It was the easiest pitch Gary Koenig had to make in his first off-season as head coach. He showed Kelly five minutes of his spread offense and he was sold.

KELLY THORPE

I just have one request. (He pulls a DVD out of his pocket and hands it to the coach) I recorded a few clips of my favorite receiver. He's got an even better GPA than me.

Koenig was skeptical at first, not having seen any players from the tribe. He slid the disc in as pass after long pass was thrown by Kelly of at least 60 yards and his friend, Billy "The Roadrunner" Sampson, appeared out of nowhere and nestled under the ball each time without breaking stride.

GARY KOENIG

How fast is that kid?

KELLY THORPE

I've seen him run a 4.29 without shoes.

GARY KOENIG

(Went with it) You have any other players in that pocket?

KELLY THORPE

Maybe you'll come visit us some time.

So Kelly, "The Roadrunner" and three other players from the tribe were headed to Stanford. Three of the players received athletic scholarships, two academic scholarships, and one scooped up government aid to pay his way.

Kelly spent four years in college despite the pull of the NFL, graduating with degrees in Quantum Physics and Film Study. He shattered all of John Elway's passing records while at Stanford, and then was drafted with the first pick In the NFL draft by his hometown Arizona Cardinals. That same year, he pitched Stanford into the College World Series and sported a nasty 15-1 record with a 1.21 ERA. He lost the last game he pitched that season, a 1-0 heartbreaker to Oklahoma State on an error in the last inning.

It just so happened, that Kelly was drafted in the first round of the Major League Baseball draft that same year by the Arizona Diamondbacks. Despite assurances that Kelly would try his hand at football before hitting the baseball diamond, the Diamondbacks couldn't pass up such a 'can't miss' prospect.

Kelly's first two years with the Cardinals were record-breaking years for a first- and a second-year player. In the preseason of his third year, he was hit awkwardly in a game against the New York Giants. The crowd grew eerily silent and the players circled in prayer as Kelly was carted off the field, suffering from paralysis from the neck-down. He was rushed to Arizona General Hospital in an ambulance as paramedics frantically tried to keep him breathing.

The next day, Kelly was breathing on his own but remained in the Intensive Care Unit as his eyes remained shut. It was late in the day when he opened his eyes and wondered what all of these people were doing standing over him. Doctors were not sure of Kelly's prognosis, and told the family that the next 24 to 48 hours would be critical.

Kelly looked around and picked up casually picked up his left hand to rub the crust away from his eyes. Gil and Kelly's parents were there and let out a collective gasp from relief.

"Looks like we're playing baseball next year," Kelly said as he slowly sat up on his own.

There wasn't a dry eye in the room and, within a few days, Gil was on the phone to both Arizona clubs delivery the good and bad news.

Kelly played 15 years for the Diamondbacks and won an incredible 307 games, while only losing 152. He won more than 15 games every year of his career - won 20 games eight times - and his best season, his first of four Cy Young Awards, he was 25-4.

Kelly Thorpe's prolonged success in his home state started a stream of successful college and professional athletes, and business people. Gil became the manager of Kelly and successive tribe athletes, and started a talent agency with

Leslie called the LG Agency. While Gil's side handled the athletes, Leslie's dealt with professional business and communications talent.

When Gil and Leslie were both in their mid-40s, a local husband and wife were involved in a tragic car accident. Before the Native American wife died, doctors were able to perform a C-section and save the expectant mother's baby. Silver Fish and others were present at the hospital when the baby was brought from intensive care to the nursery. Gil and Leslie were also there, as the parents were both clients. The nurse picked up the baby girl, swathed in a pink blanket, and showed her to the small crowd waiting by the glass.

On the baby's pink hat was a piece of tape with the name "BROOKLYN" prominently displayed. Silver Fish looked at Gil and Leslie, and they looked at each other and cried. The 'Big Chief' and his wife would once again have their lives begun anew in Brooklyn.

