Keys, Parking Lots, Handcuffs

Keys, Parking Lots, Handcuffs

INT. MOTEL ROOM. NIGHT.

MRS. FOX lays prostrate on the floor, her legs askew and spilling out into the main room. A moment, then HOPE walks over and gives her mother a tentative kick. BELINDA is watching over her charge. She glimpses out of her periphery; RICK reaching out towards Mrs. Fox. She grabs his hand.

BELINDA

Don't touch her!

RICK

I was going to move her to the radiator. We've got a pair of handcuffs downstairs for the rowdies, and I was going to stop her from—

BELINDA

Don't. Don't move her, don't restrain her, just...leave her be. It'll just make her more angry.

RICK

And I guess we don't want that.

BELINDA

No. No, you don't want that.

Hope has wandered over to the door. She places her hand against it, and then looks back at Belinda.

BELINDA

She's right. We should be running.

RICK

Awesome. I love road trips. Where are we going?

BELINDA

You shouldn't get involved. She'll ask questions, and the less you know the better.

RICK

You're not going to get anywhere on foot. Look, I'll get one of the cars in the lot, and we'll drive out a few miles, and you can run from there. I won't know where you are. No idea. Big old blank up here. Not a single thing that I can—

BELINDA

Okay! Yes, all right. Just...stop that and you can come.

All three of them run DOWNSTAIRS to the parking lot. Belinda glances down the row of cars.

RICK

All right.

BELINDA

So which one is yours?

RICK

I walk to work.

BELINDA

We're going to steal a car?

RICK

It's not stealing if they give you the keys.

From his pocket RICK pulls a ring of car keys.

RICK

We make 'em surrender when they check in. Make sure they don't sneak off.

BELINDA

Only makes sense.

Hope smiles. She's got her eye on something across the way. She points, and Belinda and Rick look over towards her mark: sports car, black finish. Looks fast.

RICK

I think we have our answer. I'll drive.