INT. ROVER - DAY
Hunter at the wheel, Jackie front passenger seat, Tom behind Hunter, Chloe behind Jackie. Driving southwest on Highway 70, White Sands and sun above the San Andres range dead ahead down the hill.
TOM: Who taught you to drive, Hunter?
Hunter and Tom make eye contact in the rearview mirror. Chloe readies her phone, records Tom.
HUNTER: My grandfather. Is my driving okay, Tom?
TOM: Drivin's great. Just curious. In what and where were ya, if ya don't mind me askin'.
HUNTER: My grandfather's eighty-seven Volvo G-L sedan. We started in the parking lot of Anaheim Stadium, then went out to Katella and east to Santiago Canyon and Irvine Park. A Sunday afternoon in late July.
TOM: How old were ya?
HUNTER: Fifteen. Then I had drivers ed in high school. Education.
TOM: Right.
HUNTER: How bout you.
TOM: My dad, in his sixty-two Impala S-S convertible.
CHLOE: What color?
TOM: It was called twilight blue. White top.
CHLOE: I'll have to look that up.
HUNTER: No truck?
TOM: Sixty-one G-M-C.
HUNTER: K. Where were you in the Impala?
TOM: West Texas. Dad had a friend who had a cabin and horses on some land off one-eighteen about halfway between Alpine and Terlingua. Ed Figueroa. He and his wife and son and daughter lived in El Paso most a the time but by a couple years later he'd retired and they was out there full time. We'd go out once or twice a year.
HUNTER: We being?
TOM: Me and dad and mom and Ruthie.
HUNTER; So Ruth and your mom were out on this occasion.
TOM: They were. This was over a week in June.
CHLOE: How old were you?
TOM: Couple months shy a fourteen. Ruthie'd just turned twelve. Ed and Gloria's kids were older. His name was Javier, he was sixteen or seventeen and the daughter Soly, for Soledad, had just graduated high school. Sorry if I'm ramblin'.
CHLOE/HUNTER: You're not.
TOM: Well, stop me if I start to. Anyway, to cut to the chase, dad got me outta bed early, maybe five or so, askin' if I wanted to go for a drive. Sure, let's go. We did that a lot, just get in the car and go. I never got tired of it. Anyway, ten minutes later we got to the gate at the highway, turned left, drove to south a Terlingua, found a spot and watched the sun come up over the Chisos Mountains. After awhile he asked if I was ready. I nodded, thinkin' he was talkin' about headin' back to the cabin. Which he was. He gave me the key, we switched places. I drove back.
CHLOE: Top down of course.
TOM: Comin' and goin'. Keep in mind, it wasn't exactly my first time behind the wheel. I'd taken the truck for a lap or two around the block a time or two. But the Impala on open highway was a change.
CHLOE: Were you surprised?
TOM: A little. I was hopin'.
HUNTER: Engine?
TOM: Two eighty-three V-eight.
CHLOE: How fast did you go?
TOM: Well, a little faster than the sixty dad suggested I tell mom if she asked.
CHLOE: Did she?
TOM: No.
CHLOE: She knew not to.
TOM: That thought occured to me.
HUNTER: How fast did you go?
TOM: Dad let me know eighty was plenty.
HUNTER: What became of the Impala.
TOM: Totaled when dad hit a whitetail that November.
CHLOE: What's a whitetail.
TOM; White-tailed deer.
CHLOE: Oh.
TOM: Big ol' buck come outta the woods just north a Lost Maples. Dad thinks he mighta been tryin' to get away from a mountain lion. Anyway, end a the chassis.
CHLOE: And the deer, I reckon.
TOM: You reckon correctly. He put it down.
CHLOE: Put it down?
TOM: Shot it.
CHLOE: Oh.
TOM: It was sufferin'.
Chloe nods.
TOM (CONT). I'm sorry, Chloe. I coulda - I shoulda - left that out.
CHLOE: No. No leaving things out, Tom. Okay?
Tom nods.
CHLOE (CONT.): Did your dad get hurt?
TOM: Broke his right foot and ankle, left wrist, concussion, bruised sternum, got some windshield glass in both arms. Took awhile to get all that out. But eventual full recovery.
A lull.
CHLOE: Tom.
TOM: Yes ma'am.
CHLOE: What did he shoot the whitetail with?
TOM: The Colt forty-five he kept in the glove compartment.
CHLOE: Why did he keep one there?
TOM: For exactly the reason he used it.
CHLOE: Deers are why you have that guard on your grill, isn't it?
TOM: Yes ma'am. That's one reason. And it comes in handy movin' through brush and such.
A lull.
CHLOE: Do you have a gun in your glove compartment?
TOM: No. It's in a case under the driver's seat.
Lull.
CHLOE: Same gun?
TOM: No. Dad's Colt is at Ruth's.
CHLOE: Do you carry it for the same reason?
TOM: Yes.
Lull.
CHLOE: Is that the only reason?
TOM (beat). No.
CHLOE: Self-protection?
TOM: Should push come to shove.
CHLOE: So to speak.
TOM: Yes ma'am.
Tom looks out the window. Chloe stops recording, pockets phone.
