Exchange feedback on Mastery Cycle 3

[Diane Keranen]

LOGLINE: Heavy rain approaches as two farmers are forced to work together on a disputed patch of land when a secret and unlikely event binds them together.

ESSENCE: Farmers in a fight over a property line learn the hard way to avoid getting wrapped up in petty details.

SCENE:

EXT. HAY FIELD. DAY
Nancy, mid 30s, driving a tractor is taking up dried rows of alfalfa and turning out big round, wrapped bales. After releasing a ton bale, she see’s someone walking to a tractor with a baler hitched to it at the edge of the field carrying a round-point shovel.

NANCY

Ah ha. Caught him again.

She watches him for a moment through binoculars before jotting something in a notepad.

It’s her new neighbor “SQUIRE,” mid 30s. A city-boy who dresses like an outdoorsy, magazine advertisement of what a farmer looks like: tight-fitting t-shirt, expensive jeans, cowboy boots, handkerchief hanging from a back pocket, scruffy facial hair, and neatly styled hair.

She waves him over. He looks at her for a moment then waves back, but he keeps walking.

NANCY
(yells)
Get your butt over here!

She’s an attractive woman in her well-worn tank top and flowing overshirt. She wears heavy-duty jeans and steel-toe work boots and her hair pulled into a ponytail that’s a little messy after working in the field.

Squire turns and walks toward her. He stops near to where she waits to give her time to take in his rugged good looks. He rests his hand atop the handle of the shovel he’s set down in front of him.

NANCY
Get off my field Tom.

SQUIRE
No need to be so formal, Nancy. “Squire” is what my dear friends call me. I believe you can call yourself a dear friend of mine. Seeing your baling my hay for me.

He flashes her his contagious and disarming smile. She almost smiles but stops herself.

NANCY
Well, Tom, that’s a stupid nickname. What’s with the shovel. You burying a body out here.

There’s that smile again.

SQUIRE
Getting ready to bale hay.

NANCY
You need a shovel for that? You’re more big-city than I thought. Besides, this is my field.

He steps closer to her. Nearly touching. He gestures toward the tree line around the field.

SQUIRE
If I recall, the property line runs from that big, giant oak over there…
(sweeping motion with his arm)
… across the field to that magnificent maple. Over there. But why quibble? I’m just glad to see my neighbor getting the field cleared before the rain starts.

NANCY
This isn’t your field, you ass.

He reaches a hand toward her head and picks a stray piece of hay from her hair. She pushes his hand away.

SQUIRE
Hold on, sweetheart. Just a bit of very fine alfalfa stuck in your hair. There you go. Unless you meant it to be there. It suits you.

He smiles at her as puts the twig between his teeth as if chewing on a toothpick

NANCY
I guess you haven’t noticed the markers. I had the field surveyed the other day.

His looks around for markers.

SQUIRE
You had someone poking around my field? Without telling me?

NANCY
Without telling you? Who I bring onto my property is none of your business. But, as I was saying, I had a surveyor out here because I figured you’d start up again about your make-believe property line. The true markers run from…

She takes a step away from him.

NANCY
… THAT oak over there to the rock pile over here. You’re taking, or as Deputy Muncie says, stealing a good ten acres of my finest alfalfa.

Squire looks out over the field.

SQUIRE
Muncie. He’s one-of-kind that one. It’d be a hoot to see him arrest someone for baling hay. In farm-country.

NANCY
Maybe he should know about you sneaking around burying bodies on my land.

SQUIRE
Look at those clouds. That rain is getting close.

Squire turns back to Nancy with a renewed smoothness.

SQUIRE
You and me, we don’t need deputies and markers. We’ve got family farming history. You can bale my hay. Frees me up for other chores.

NANCY
You mean my hay. What’re you out here burying anyhow?

Thunder booms as dark gray clouds approach on the horizon.

SQUIRE
Property lines, those are details for another time.

NANCY
I suppose. For right now anyway. But, I can get more of these rows baled up before you figure out how to use that baler of yours. I’ve got Muncie on speed dial, so don’t go getting in my way while you try to figure out how your baler works. I don’t want you to go to jail over a few acres, so don’t test my patience.

Squire smiles at her again and looks her in the eye.

SQUIRE
I’d rather get Old Man Hagar out here and see what he has to say about it. I bet he’s got some interesting stories to share about this here property line.

NANCY
“Half-in-the-bag Hagar”? He don’t know shit.

SQUIRE
Hey. That’s my uncle.

NANCY
(surprised)
Oh, Jeez. Sorry. He’s harmless, but not a man in the know. But that rain is closing in so it’d be best to get this hay up. I don’t want to be feeding my cows spent or moldy alfalfa.

SQUIRE

I guess I’ll take my body-burying shovel and get my machine running and we can see who can get more work done.

He winks at her. She rolls her eyes.

Nancy watches as Squire for a moment after he turns to walk over to his tractor. He flips the shovel over his shoulder. She sees him wrestle with a bundle of loose twine and shakes her head in disbelief.

She climbs onto her tractor, but before she starts up, she hears an unusual sound. An ominous clang and groaning sound. She looks, but can’t see Squire on his tractor.

She starts up and bales up the row of hay that takes her closer to his tractor but is still unable to see him. She stops, steps down, and walks over.

Squire is trapped between the baler and the tractor.

NANCY
Holy hell! What the…

SQUIRE
This twine was causing trouble all day, then the guard slipped off when I stepped up.

She reaches up and turns off Squire’s tractor. His legs are caught up in a bundle of twine that had wrapped around the drive-hitch and his legs are jammed against the steel of the hitch. He can’t move.

Nancy grips the hitch and tries to reverse its rotation. It’s stuck solid. She pulls a knife from her pocket, unfolds the blade, and looks at Squire and at the blade.

NANCY
This seems like a good time to discuss that property line. Don’t you think?

Squire smiles that intoxicating smile of his.

Nancy grabs a handful of loose twine and cuts. The hitch rotates as built-up tension releases, and now her flowing shirt is caught up in the hitch in the other direction as her knife goes flying.

Squire laughs, winces, laughs.

Nancy is now really mad. While unhurt, they are pressed up against each other in a much unwanted spooning position.

SQUIRE
I guess we should call somebody. Anyone by Muncie though. He’s got it out for me. But my phone broke in the hitch.

Nancy rolls her eyes. You are some piece of work.

NANCY
My phone is in my tractor cab.

They both strain against the twine as a flash of lightening releases a heavy rain that falls on them and the ten acres of ready-to-bale-hay that will go to waste.

[Ronald Neustrom]

Diane,

Good work on the scene. You did a lot solid stuff. The setting, the conflict, the characters were very effective. I think
the best part was the ending. You really tied it all together…I think that’s the mark of good writing…I walked away from
your scene and wished mine had an ending as solid as yours….Keep it going…ps. trying to catch…keep up…I’m just chugging along.

[Diane Keranen]

Thank you, Ron. I’m also having trouble keeping up but I’m going to keep at it.