THE RUNNER SCREENPLAY by BRIAN R. LUNDIN (ebook reader below 3000 .txt) 📕

ago of trying converting her husband. He was not an atheist, but he said he needed some tangible proof that God existed. The Commander lived at 4930 South Vincennes Avenue a quiet neighborhood of single-family homes and a few two flat apartment buildings. Hollis had grown up right around the corner at 4916 South Forrestville and went to the Willard Grammar school, at 49th South St.Lawrence Avenue, two blocks from his current house. He had a nice three-bedroom house, old but well maintained. The house had three bedrooms and two bathrooms. His neighbors were mainly city employees; postal workers, bus drivers or policy men. Hollis was the pride of the community, the first black Chicago Police Department Commander and he lived in the neighborhood. Unlike many Commanders, Hollis was honest and lived within his means, he didn’t have or need a “Commander’s Club.”

INT: HOLLIS HOME-EARLY EVENING

The house had a finished basement that he used as his office and recreation room. The room was huge, the whole length and width of the house and it contained Hollis blues record collection, a powerful stereo-set and a reel-to-reel tape player. A Staunton Chess set, given to him by Reggie, sat on a brown chess table in a secluded corner of the room.

Hollis and his wife were high school sweethearts at DuSable High school and married when Hollis was nineteen and Joan was eighteen. The only time they had ever been separated, was when Hollis was in the Army. They had two kids, Kevin, Jr. 17 and Brittney 15. After dinner, Richard and Reggie retired to the recreation room for a game of chess. The game started and Reggie made a number of blunders that resulted in him losing his queen after only ten moves.

HOLLIS
Are you throwing off for a bet or what? What’s the matter Reggie, you have been distant all evening?

REGGIE
I can’t get autopsy report out of my mind, especially the part where the wounds seemed like they had been caused by some animal, a big cat. We know there are no big cats in Gary, if there were, some of them crazy brothers would probably try to catch it and sell it to a zoo, but there is something else. I had a meeting with Jerome McLemore the other day at Juanita’s and with him was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Jerome didn’t introduce me to her, which is in itself strange because Jerome is always a gentleman, but he told me her name was Madame Bourneis and she was from New Orleans. She was with a young black man, damn near as pretty as she was and when she got up from the booth to leave she looked directly into my eyes and I got the strangest feeling, I don’t know if was fear or what. But the most amazing thing was that after staring me in my eyes with her coal black eyes, she smiled and I swear, Commander, I saw fangs.

Hollis knew that his friend was the best detective he had ever known and was not one for wild stories or affected by superstitions. He did not comment on Reggie’s story. After taking a sip of his Kiddie Koctail, Reggie quickly mated Hollis.

INT. HOLLIS OFFICE-MORNING
Commander Hollis summoned Sergeant Reginald Lundgrin to his office. When he arrived, he was surprised to see Joan, the Commander’s wife seated in front of his desk. Reggie ambled over to her and kissed her on the cheek.
REGGIE
This is a pleasant surprise, to see my favorite chittlin’ cooker.

JOAN
Well it is a pleasure cooking for my favorite Chittlin’ eater.

HOLLIS
I was telling Joan about our conversation over chess, and I let her read the Autopsy Report, she might have some useful information for you.

JOAN
I know you are not superstitious or religious, Reggie, but when Richard told me about your experience with the woman in the lounge and I read the Autopsy Report concerning those men in the warehouse, I thought about a class I had in college. The name of the class was “African Folklore, Truth or Fiction,” the professor was ESUI MOGMABO, an African from Nigeria. Professor Mogmabo was an Anglican priest and was a visiting professor to Michigan State University. The class covered a variety of old African folktales of human interacting with animals, either separately or together. This interaction they used primarily to achieve social harmony and discourage ant-social behavior. Some of these tales were funny and some was real scary, especially when we started to study voodoo.

REGGIE
I thought that voodoo and all that stuff came from Haiti!

JOAN
Oh, no. Voodoo originated in Africa and was brought to Haiti by African slaves.

REGGIE
You’re a lucky man, boss, not only is your wife beautiful, a great cook but she is also a scholar.

JOAN
Compliments will get you everything, anyway Professor Mogmabo lectured on many of the African myths that had been handed down through generations, but for the remainder of the course he centered his lectures on voodoo and African Religion and his lecture on spirits were especially interesting. He said that Africans believed that the universe is composed of visible and invisible parts. It is commonly believed that besides God and human beings there are others beings that populate the earth. These are spirits and there are two types, the nature spirit and the human spirit. The nature’s spirits include the moon, sun, stars, and the sky and are looked on more as subjects for stories, myths and legends and help them explain and understand the mysteries of the forces of nature. It explains such things as thunder and lightning as caused by nature’s spirits. Whereas nature spirits have no direct physical kinship with people, human spirits are those that are in direct contact with the living. Theses human spirits were neither evil or good, malevolent or benevolent and thus cannot be classified. The professor told of an entity known as the Diablesse. According to myth, the Diablesse was a form-changing entity that could change forms at will from an extraordinary beautiful woman with magical powers of healing into a deadly beast that could be summoned by the village Bocor or medicine man in times of trouble. He related a folktale that was very popular in the Nigerian village where he grew up. Long ago there was a peaceful farming village nestled in the lush Nigerian jungle. They grew vegetables, raised chickens and hunted wild animals that were abundant in the jungle. They were a happy people and enjoyed the company of each other. One night the people were gathered celebrating a successful hunt and giving praise to their gods when a runner announced that he had seen a group of Bantu warriors a day’s march away. The Bantu was a war-like tribe that raided villages and sold the people to the Arab slave traders. The village chief told the women and children to hide in the jungle and the men prepared to defend their village. At dawn, the Bantu attacked. The warriors wore hideous animal masks and had skulls attached to their bodies, they were a terrifying sight. The fifty or so men of the village fought bravely, but they were farmers and their farm tools were no match for the bow and arrows, spears and long knives of the 100 or so Bantu warriors. The warriors killed ten of the village men and shackled the rest together like animals. The leader of the Buntu warriors was a big, ugly man whose face bore the scars of many battles. After securing the remaining villagers, he sent his men into the jungle to find the women and children. Shortly they returned and herded the women and children in front of the shackled men. The warriors had eaten the “Drug Flower,” a plant that grew wild in the jungle and supposedly gave them supernatural powers. The leader ordered his warriors to strip the clothes off the women, young and old and his men began raping the women in front of their husbands, brothers and fathers. The men closed their eyes to avoid seeing their wives, young daughters and mothers violated. The Village Bacor or Medicine Man was in his eighties, blind and lame he scooted on his haunches and demanded the carnage stop. The leader laughed at the old man and began striking him across the face with his spear. Blood streamed from the wounds and he looked as if he was going to pass out or die. Bleeding the old Bocor fell to the ground and started to chant in a language that even his own people could not understand. The usually bright sun turned dark and there was no jungle sounds. A strong wind blew across the village as the warriors hooted and danced around the naked women staked out on the ground. A deep growl came from the jungle and suddenly, out of the shadow of the forest, a beautiful young woman appeared followed by an equally beautiful young man, both of whom were naked. The Buntu leader approached the woman smiling and with lust in his eye. As he got closer, the woman and her companion changed into big black panthers with blood red eyes and pounced on the warriors; their long fangs and claws ripped them apart. After all of the warriors were dead, the woman and young man returned to human form and she placed her hand on the old bocor wounds and they were healed. Just as suddenly as they had appeared they returned to the shadows and were gone.

REGGIE
That was quite a story.

JOAN
There are similar stories of this benevolent shape shifter, or she-devil told by Groits, or storytellers, all over Africa and Haiti. This shift-changer is sometimes referred to as the Diablesse and is a revered figure in African and Haitian folklore. It is said to be a protector of the weak and defenseless. Now, I am not saying that the woman you saw was a Diablesse, but something strange happened to those men in that warehouse in Gary, something strange indeed.

INT. VITO’S OFFICE-MORNING

JIMMY
What’s the plan boss, what’s the plan?

VITO
I’ll think of something, but right now get all of our guys together.

Vito knew that he was in big trouble, Pauli Gaza was the undisputed Outfit boss in Chicago, plus the National Crime Commission backed him up. Vito knew that Pauli could get shooters from all over the country, hell from all over the world, but Vito was a “Made man” and had the right to take his case to the Commission, if he could stay alive long enough. Vito’s street crew consisted of 100 soldiers. The soldiers were the lowest member of the crew and did most of the dirty work. They were a part of the Gaza family, but held little power. There were also 50 associates or “Giovane D’Onorse.” These associates were not actually members of the family or of Vito’s crew, but burglars, stickup men and they worked with the other soldiers on various criminal enterprises but had to kick back a percentage to Vito. Although they were still concerned about all the unexplained deaths of their friends, Vito was their Capo and Italian loyalty demanded they stick with him. The sit-down with his men was held in a private suite at the Riverdale Inn, a hotel Vito owned in the far south suburb of Riverdale, Illinois a white middle-class working community.

INT SUITE-EVENING

Vito had ordered catered pasta, sausages, fish and fine wines for the meeting. He had also hired thirty black and Hispanic prostitutes that were waiting in three adjoining suites; Jimmy called the meeting to order.

VITO
Like you, I am tired of