НАЗВАНИЕ: The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
ГОД: 1994
СЦЕНАРИСТ: Frank Darabont
ИСТОЧНИК: ScriptSlug (PDF) — https://www.scriptslug.com/script/the-shawshank-redemption-1994
URL: https://assets.scriptslug.com/live/pdf/scripts/the-shawshank-redemption-1994.pdf
СКАЧАНО: 2026-10-12 11:49
ПРИМЕЧАНИЕ: текст чужой, для личного изучения. Не распространять. Не исполнять.
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       THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION



              Written by


            Frank Darabont




         Based upon the story
Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption
            by Stephen King
INT -- CABIN -- NIGHT (1946)

A dark, empty room.

The door bursts open. A MAN and WOMAN enter, drunk and
giggling, horny as hell. No sooner is the door shut than
they're all over each other, ripping at clothes, pawing at
flesh, mouths locked together.

He gropes for a lamp, tries to turn it on, knocks it over
instead. Hell with it. He's got more urgent things to do,
like getting her blouse open and his hands on her breasts.
She arches, moaning, fumbling with his fly. He slams her
against the wall, ripping her skirt. We hear fabric tear.

He enters her right then and there, roughly, up against the
wall. She cries out, hitting her head against the wall but
not caring, grinding against him, clawing his back,
shivering with the sensations running through her. He
carries her across the room with her legs wrapped around
him. They fall onto the bed.

CAMERA PULLS BACK, exiting through the window, traveling
smoothly outside...

EXT -- CABIN -- NIGHT (1946)

...to reveal the bungalow, remote in a wooded area, the
lovers' cries spilling into the night...

...and we drift down a wooded path, the sounds of rutting
passion growing fainter, mingling now with the night sounds
of crickets and hoot owls...

...and we begin to hear FAINT MUSIC in the woods, tinny and
incongruous, and still we keep PULLING BACK until...

...a car is revealed. A 1946 Plymouth. Parked in a clearing.

INT -- PLYMOUTH -- NIGHT (1946)

ANDY DUFRESNE, mid-20's, wire rim glasses, three-piece suit.
Under normal circumstances a respectable, solid citizen;
hardly dangerous, perhaps even meek. But these circumstances
are far from normal. He is disheveled, unshaven, and very
drunk. A cigarette smolders in his mouth. His eyes, flinty
and hard, are riveted to the bungalow up the path.

He can hear them fucking from here.

He raises a bottle of bourbon and knocks it back. The radio
plays softly, painfully romantic, taunting him:
                                                          2.


You stepped out of a dream... You are too wonderful... To be
what you seem...

He opens the glove compartment, pulls out an object wrapped
in a rag. He lays it in his lap and unwraps it carefully --

-- revealing a .38 revolver. Oily, black, evil.

He grabs a box of bullets. Spills them everywhere, all over
the seats and floor. Clumsy. He picks bullets off his lap,
loading them into the gun, one by one, methodical and grim.
Six in the chamber. His gaze goes back to the bungalow.

He shuts off the radio. Abrupt silence, except for the
distant lovers' moans. He takes another shot of bourbon
courage, then opens the door and steps from the car.

EXT -- PLYMOUTH -- NIGHT (1946)

His wingtip shoes crunch on gravel. Loose bullets scatter to
the ground. The bourbon bottle drops and shatters.

He starts up the path, unsteady on his feet. The closer he
gets, the louder the lovemaking becomes. Louder and more
frenzied. The lovers are reaching a climax, their sounds of
passion degenerating into rhythmic gasps and grunts.

                    WOMAN (O.S.)
          Oh god...oh god...oh god...

Andy lurches to a stop, listening. The woman cries out in
orgasm. The sound slams into Andy's brain like an icepick.
He shuts his eyes tightly, wishing the sound would stop.

It finally does, dying away like a siren until all that's
left is the shallow gasping and panting of post-coitus. We
hear languorous laughter, moans of satisfaction.

                    WOMAN (O.S.) (CONT’D)
          Oh god...that's sooo good...you're
          the best...the best I ever had...

Andy just stands and listens, devastated. He doesn't look
like much of a killer now; he's just a sad little man on a
dirt path in the woods, tears streaming down his face, a
loaded gun held loosely at his side. A pathetic figure,
really.

                                          FADE TO BLACK:
                                            1ST TITLE UP
                                                          3.


INT -- COURTROOM -- DAY (1946)

THE JURY listens like a gallery of mannequins on display,
pale-faced and stupefied.

                    D.A. (O.S.)
          Mr. Dufresne, describe the
          confrontation you had with your
          wife the night she was murdered.

                    ANDY DUFRESNE
          is on the witness stand, hands
          folded, suit and tie pressed, hair
          meticulously combed. He speaks in
          soft, measured tones:

                    ANDY
          It was very bitter. She said she
          was glad I knew, that she hated all
          the sneaking around. She said she
          wanted a divorce in Reno.

                    D.A.
          What was your response?

                    ANDY
          I told her I would not grant one.

                    D.A.
          (refers to his notes) I'll see you
          in Hell before I see you in Reno.
          Those were the words you used, Mr.
          Dufresne, according to the
          testimony of your neighbors.

                    ANDY
          If they say so. I really don't
          remember. I was upset.

                                             FADE TO BLACK:
                                               2ND TITLE UP

                    D.A.
          What happened after you and your
          wife argued?

                    ANDY
          She packed a bag and went to stay
          with Mr. Quentin.

                    D.A.
          Glenn Quentin. The golf pro at the
          Falmouth Hills Country Club.
                    (MORE)
                                             4.

          D.A. (CONT'D)
The man you had recently discovered
was her lover. (Andy nods) Did you
follow her?

          ANDY
I went to a few bars first. Later,
I decided to drive to Mr. Quentin's
home and confront them. They
weren't there...so I parked my car
in the turnout...and waited.

          D.A.
With what intention?

          ANDY
I'm not sure. I was confused.
Drunk. I think mostly I wanted to
scare them.

          D.A.
You had a gun with you?

          ANDY
Yes. I did.

                                FADE TO BLACK:
                                  3RD TITLE UP

          D.A.
When they arrived, you went up to
the house and murdered them?

          ANDY
No. I was sobering up. I realized
she wasn't worth it. I decided to
let her have her quickie divorce.

          D.A.
Quickie divorce indeed. A .38
caliber divorce, wrapped in a
handtowel to muffle the shots,
isn't that what you mean? And then
you shot her lover!

          ANDY
I did not. I got back in the car
and drove home to sleep it off.
Along the way, I stopped and threw
my gun into the Royal River. I feel
I've been very clear on this point.
                                                5.


          D.A.
Yes, you have. Where I get hazy,
though, is the part where the
cleaning woman shows up the next
morning and finds your wife and her
lover in bed, riddled with .38
caliber bullets. Does that strike
you as a fantastic coincidence, Mr.
Dufresne, or is it just me?

          ANDY
    (softly)
Yes. It does.

          D.A.
I'm sorry, Mr. Dufresne, I don't
think the jury heard that.

          ANDY
Yes. It does.

             D.A.
Does what?

          ANDY
Strike me as a fantastic
coincidence.

          D.A.
On that, sir, we are in accord...

                                   FADE TO BLACK!
                                     4TH TITLE UP

          D.A. (CONT’D)
You claim you threw your gun into
the Royal River before the murders
took place. That's rather
convenient.

          ANDY
It's the truth.

          D.A.
You recall Lt. Mincher's testimony?
He and his men dragged that river
for three days and nary a gun was
found. So no comparison can be made
between your gun and the bullets
taken from the bloodstained corpses
of the victims. That's also rather
convenient, isn't it, Mr. Dufresne?
                                                         6.


                    ANDY
              (faint, bitter smile)
          Since I am innocent of this crime,
          sir, I find it decidedly
          inconvenient the gun was never
          found.

                                          FADE TO BLACK:
                                            STH TITLE UP

INT -- COURTROOM -- DAY (1946)

The D.A. holds the jury spellbound with his closing
summation:

                    D.A.
          Ladies and gentlemen, you've heard
          all the evidence, you know all the
          facts. We have the accused at the
          scene of the crime. We have foot
          prints. Tire tracks. Bullets
          scattered on the ground which bear
          his fingerprints. A broken bourbon
          bottle, likewise with fingerprints.
          Most of all, we have a beautiful
          young woman and her lover lying
          dead in each other's arms. They had
          sinned. But was their crime so
          great as to merit a death sentence?

He gestures to Andy sitting quietly with his ATTORNEY.

                    D.A. (CONT’D)
          I suspect Mr. Dufresne's answer to
          that would be yes. I further
          suspect he carried out that
          sentence on the night of September
          this year of our Lord, 1946, by
          pumping four bullets into his wife
          and another four into Glenn
          Quentin. And while you think about
          that, think about this...

He picks up a revolver, spins the cylinder before their eyes
like a carnival barker spinning a wheel of fortune.

                    D.A. (CONT’D)
          A revolver holds six bullets, not
          eight. I submit to you this was not
          a hot-blooded crime of passion!
          That could at least be understood,
          if not condoned. No, this was
          revenge of a much more brutal and
          cold-blooded nature. Consider!
                    (MORE)
                                                       7.

                    D.A. (CONT’D)
          Four bullets per victim! Not six
          shots fired, but eight! That means
          he fired the gun empty...and then
          stopped to reload so he could shoot
          each of them again! An extra bullet
          per lover...right in the head. (a
          few JURORS shiver) I'm done
          talking. You people are all decent,
          God-fearing Christian folk. You
          know what to do.

FADE TO BLACK: 6TH TITLE UP

INT -- JURY ROOM -- DAY (1946)

CAMERA TRACKS down a long table, moving from one JUROR to
the next. These decent, God-fearing Christians are chowing
down on a nice fried chicken dinner provided them by the
county, smacking greasy lips and gnawing cobbettes of corn.

                    VOICE (O.S.)
          Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty...

We find the FOREMAN at the head of the table, sorting votes.

FADE TO BLACK: 7TH TITLE UP

INT -- COURTROOM -- DAY (1946)

Andy stands before the dias. THE JUDGE peers down, framed by
a carved frieze of blind Lady Justice on the wall.

                    JUDGE
          You strike me as a particularly icy
          and remorseless man, Mr. Dufresne.
          It chills my blood just to look at
          you. By the power vested in me by
          the State of Maine, I hereby order
          you to serve two life sentences,
          back to back, one for each of your
          victims. So be it.

He raps his gavel as we

CRASH TO BLACK: LAST TITLE UP.

AN IRON-BARRED DOOR

slides open with an enormous CLANG. A stark room waits
beyond. CAMERA PUSHES through. SEVEN HUMORLESS MEN sit side
by side at a long table. An empty chair faces them. We are
now in:
                                                          8.


INT -- SHAWSHANK HEARINGS ROOM -- DAY (1947)

RED enters, removes his cap and waits by the chair.

                    MAN #1
          Sit.

Red sits, tries not to slouch. The chair is uncomfortable.

                    MAN #2
          We see by your file you've served
          twenty years of a life sentence.

                    MAN #3
          You feel you've been rehabilitated?

                    RED
          Yes, sir. Absolutely. I've learned
          my lesson. I can honestly say I'm a
          changed man. I'm no longer a danger
          to society. That's the God's honest
          truth. No doubt about it.

The men just stare at him. One stifles a yawn.

CLOSEUP -- PAROLE FORM

A big rubber stamp slams down: "REJECTED" in red ink.

EXT -- EXERCISE YARD -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- DUSK (1947)

High stone walls topped with snaky concertina wire, set off
at intervals by looming guard towers. Over a hundred CONS
are in the yard. Playing catch, shooting craps, jawing at
each other, making deals. Exercise period.

RED emerges into fading daylight, slouches low-key through
the activity, worn cap on his head, exchanging hellos and
doing minor business. He's an important man here.

                    RED (V.O.)
          There's a con like me in every
          prison in America, I guess. I'm the
          guy who can get it for you.
          Cigarettes, a bag of reefer if
          you're partial, a bottle of brandy
          to celebrate your kid's high school
          graduation. Damn near anything,
          within reason.

He slips somebody a pack of smokes, smooth sleight-of-hand.
                                                       9.


                    RED (V.O.)
          Yes sir, I'm a regular Sears &
          Roebuck.

TWO SHORT SIREN BLASTS issue from the main tower, drawing
everybody's attention to the loading dock. The outer gate
swings open...revealing a gray prison bus outside.

                    RED (V.O.)
          So when Andy Dufresne came to me in
          and asked me to smuggle Rita
          Hayworth into the prison for him, I
          told him no problem. And it wasn't.

                    CON
          Fresh fish! Fresh fish today!

Red is joined by HEYWOOD, SKEET, FLOYD, JIGGER, ERNIE,
SNOOZE. Most cons crowd to the fence to gawk and jeer, but
Red and his group mount the bleachers and settle in
comfortably.

INT -- PRISON BUS -- DUSK (1947)

Andy sits in back, wearing steel collar and chains.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Andy came to Shawshank Prison in
          early 1947 for murdering his wife
          and the fella she was bangin'.

The bus lurches forward, RUMBLES through the gates. Andy
gazes around, swallowed by prison walls.

                    RED (V.O.)
          On the outside, he'd been vice-
          president of a large Portland bank.
          Good work for a man as young as he
          was, when you consider how
          conservative banks were back then.

                       TOWER GUARD
          All clear!

GUARDS approach the bus with carbines. The door jerks open.
The new fish disembark, chained together single-file,
blinking sourly at their surroundings. Andy stumbles against
the MAN in front of him, almost drags him down.

BYRON HADLEY, captain of the guard, slams his baton into
Andy's back. Andy goes to his knees, gasping in pain. JEERS
and SHOUTS from the spectators.
                                                10.


                    HADLEY
          On your feet before I fuck you up
          so bad you never walk again.

ON THE BLEACHERS

                    RED
          There they are, boys. The Human
          Charm Bracelet.

                    HEYWOOD
          Never seen such a sorry-lookin'
          heap of maggot shit in my life.

                    JIGGER
          Comin' from you, Heywood, you being
          so pretty and all...

                    FLOYD
          Takin' bets today, Red?

                    RED
              (pulls notepad and
               pencil)
          Bear Catholic? Pope shit in the
          woods? Smokes or coin, bettor's
          choice.

                    FLOYD
          Smokes. Put me down for two.

                    RED
          High roller. Who's your horse?

                    FLOYD
          That gangly sack of shit, third
          from the front. He'll be the first.

                    HEYWOOD
          Bullshit. I'll take that action.

                    ERNIE
          Me too.

Other hands go up. Red jots the names.

                    HEYWOOD
          You're out some smokes, son. Take
          my word.

                    FLOYD
          You're so smart, you call it.
                                                       11.


                    HEYWOOD
          I say that chubby fat-ass...let's
          see...fifth from the front. Put me
          down for a quarter deck.

                    RED
          That's five cigarettes on Fat-Ass.
          Any takers?

More hands go up. Andy and the others are paraded along,
forced by their chains to take tiny baby steps, flinching
under the barrage of jeers and shouts. The old-timers are
shaking the fence, trying to make the newcomers shit their
pants. Some of the new fish shout back, but mostly they look
terrified. Especially Andy.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I must admit I didn't think much of
          Andy first time I laid eyes on him.
          He might'a been important on the
          outside, but in here he was just a
          little turd in prison grays. Looked
          like a stiff breeze could blow him
          over. That was my first impression
          of the man.

                    SKEET
          What say, Red?

                    RED
          Little fella on the end.
          Definitely. I stake half a pack.
          Any takers?

                      SNOOZE
          Rich bet.

                    RED
          C'mon, boys, who's gonna prove me
          wrong?
              (hands go up)
          Floyd, Skeet, Joe, Heywood. Four
          brave souls, ten smokes apiece.
          That's it, gentlemen, this window's
          closed.

Red pockets his notepad. A VOICE comes over the P.A.
speakers:

                    VOICE (AMPLIFIED)
          Return to your cellblocks for
          evening count.
                                                      12.


INT -- ADMITTING AREA -- DUSK (1947)

The new fish are marched in. Guards unlock the shackles. The
chains drop away, rattling to the stone floor.

                    HADLEY
          Eyes front.

WARDEN SAMUEL NORTON strolls forth, a colorless man in a
gray suit and a church pin in his lapel. He looks like he
could piss ice water. He appraises the newcomers with flinty
eyes.

                    NORTON
          This is Mr. Hadley, captain of the
          guard. I am Mr. Norton, the warden.
          You are sinners and scum, that's
          why they sent you to me. Rule
          number one: no blaspheming. I'll
          not have the Lord's name taken in
          vain in my prison. The other rules
          you'll figure out as you go along.
          Any questions?

                    CON
          When do we eat?

Cued by Norton's glance, Hadley steps up to the con and
screams right in his face:

                    HADLEY
          YOU EAT WHEN WE SAY YOU EAT! YOU
          PISS WHEN WE SAY YOU PISS! YOU SHIT
          WHEN WE SAY YOU SHIT! YOU SLEEP
          WHEN WE SAY YOU SLEEP! YOU MAGGOT-
          DICK MOTHERFUCKER!

Hadley rams the tip of his club into the con's belly. The
man falls to his knees, gasping and clutching himself.
Hadley takes his place at Norton's side again. Softly:

                     NORTON
          Any other questions?
              (there are none)
          I believe in two things. Discipline
          and the Bible. Here, you'll receive
          both.
              (holds up a Bible)
          Put your faith in the Lord. Your
          ass belongs to me. Welcome to
          Shawshank.
                                                      13.


                    HADLEY
          Off with them clothes! And I didn't
          say take all day doing it, did I?

The men shed their clothes. Within seconds, all stand naked.

                    HADLEY (CONT’D)
          First man into the shower!

Hadley shoves the FIRST CON into a steel cage open at the
front. TWO GUARDS open up with a fire hose. The con is
slammed against the back of the cage, sputtering and
hollering. Seconds later, the water is cut and the con
yanked out.

                    HADLEY (CONT’D)
          Delouse that piece of shit! Next
          man in!

The con gets a huge scoop of white delousing powder thrown
all over him. Gasping and coughing, blinking powder from his
eyes, he gets shoved to a trustee's cage. The TRUSTEE slides
a short stack of items through the slot -- prison clothes
and a Bible. All the men are processed quickly -- a blast of
water, powder, clothes and a Bible...

INT -- INFIRMARY -- NIGHT (1947)

A naked CON steps before a DOCTOR and gets a cursory exam. A
penlight is shined in his eyes, ears, nose, and throat.

                       DOCTOR
          Bend over.

The con does. A GUARD with a penlight in his teeth spreads
his cheeks, peers up his ass, and nods. Andy is next up. He
gets the same treatment.

INT -- PRISON CHAPEL -- NIGHT (1947)

CAMERA TRACKS the naked newcomers shivering on hard wooden
chairs, clothes on their laps, Bibles open.

                    CHAPLAIN (O.S.)
          ...maketh me to lie down in green
          pastures. He leadeth me beside the
          still waters. He restoreth my
          soul...

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- NIGHT (1947)

Three tiers to a side, concrete and steel, gray and
imposing. Andy and the others are marched in, still naked,
carrying their clothes and Bibles.
                                                      14.


The CONS in their cells greet them with TAUNTS, JEERS, and
LAUGHTER. One by one, the new men are shown to their cells
and locked in with a CLANG OF STEEL.

                    RED (V.O.)
          The first night's the toughest, no
          doubt about it. They march you in
          naked as the day you're born, fresh
          from a Bible reading, skin burning
          and half-blind from that delousing
          shit they throw on you...

Red watches from his cell, arms slung over the crossbars,
cigarette dangling from his fingers.

                    RED (V.O.)
          ...and when they put you in that
          cell, when those bars slam home,
          that's when you know it's for real.
          Old life blown away in the blink of
          an eye...a long cold season in hell
          stretching out ahead...nothing left
          but all the time in the world to
          think about it.

Red listens to the CLANGING below. He watches Andy and a few
others being brought up to the 2nd tier.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Most new fish come close to madness
          the first night. Somebody always
          breaks down crying. Happens every
          time. The only question is, who's
          it gonna be?

Andy is led past and given a cell at the end of the tier.

                    RED (V.O.)
          It's as good a thing to bet on as
          any, I guess. I had my money on
          Andy Dufresne...

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947)

The bars slam home. Andy is alone in his cell, clutching his
clothes. He gazes around at his new surroundings, taking it
in. He slowly begins to dress himself...

EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- NIGHT (1947)

A malignant stone growth on the Maine landscape. The moon
hangs low and baleful in a dead sky. The headlight of a
PASSING TRAIN cuts through the night.
                                                      15.


INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947)

Red lies on his bunk below us, tossing his baseball toward
the ceiling and catching it again. He pauses, listening.
FOOTSTEPS approach below, unhurried, echoing hollowly on
stone.

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- NIGHT (1947)

LOW ANGLE. A CELLBLOCK GUARD strolls into frame.

                    GUARD
          That's lights out! Good night,
          ladies.

The lights bump off in sequence. The guard exits, footsteps
echoing away. Darkness now. Silence. CAMERA CRANES UP the
tiers toward Red's cell.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I remember my first night. Seems a
          long time ago now.

Red looms from the darkness, leans on the bars. Listens.
Waits. From somewhere below comes faint, ghastly tittering.
VOICES drift through the cellblock, taunting:

                    VARIOUS VOICES (O.S.)
          Fishee fishee fisheeee...You're
          gonna like it here, new fish. A
          whooole lot...Make you wish your
          daddies never dicked your
          mommies...You takin' this down, new
          fish? Gonna be a quiz later.
              (somebody LAUGHS)
          Sshhh. Keep it down. The screws'll
          hear...Fishee fishee fisheeee...

                    RED (V.O.)
          The boys always go fishin' with
          first-timers...and they don't quit
          till they reel someone in.

The VOICES keep on, sly and creepy in the dark...

INT -- VARIOUS CELLS -- NIGHT (1947)

thru thru 25 ...while the new cons go quietly crazy in their
cells. One man paces like a caged animal...another sits
gnawing his cuticles bloody...a third is weeping
silently...a fourth is dry-heaving into the toilet...
                                                        16.


INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947)

Red waits at the bars. Smoking. Listening. He cranes his
head, peers down toward Andy's cell. Nothing. Not a peep.

                    HEYWOOD (O.S.)
          Fat-Ass...oh, Faaaat-Ass. Talk to
          me, boy. I know you're in there. I
          can hear you breathin'. Now don't
          you listen to these nitwits, hear?

INT -- FAT-ASS' CELL -- NIGHT (1947)

Fat-Ass is crying, trying not to hyperventilate.

                    HEYWOOD (O.S.)
          This ain't such a bad place. I'll
          introduce you around, make you feel
          right at home. I know some big ol'
          bull queers who'd love to make your
          acquaintance...especially that big
          white mushy butt of yours...

And that's it. Fat-Ass lets out a LOUD WAIL of despair:

                    FAT-ASS
          OH GOD! I DON'T BELONG HERE! I
          WANNA GO HOME!

INT -- HEYWOOD'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947)

                    HEYWOOD
          AND IT'S FAT-ASS BY A NOSE.'

INT -- CELLBLOCK -- NIGHT (1947)

The place goes nuts. Fat-Ass throws himself screaming
against the bars. The entire block starts CHANTING:

                    VOICES
          Fresh fish...fresh fish...fresh
          fish...fresh fish...

                    FAT-ASS
          I WANNA GO HOME! I WANT MY MOTHER.'

                    VOICE (O.S.)
          I had your mother! She wasn't that
          great!

The lights bump on. GUARDS pour in, led by Hadley himself.

                    HADLEY
          What the Christ is this happy shit?
                                                         17.


                    VOICE (O.S.)
          He took the Lord's name in vain!
          I'm tellin' the warden!

                    HADLEY
              (to the unseen wit)
          You'll be tellin' him with my baton
          up your ass!

Hadley arrives at Fat-Ass' cell, bellowing through the bars:

                    HADLEY (CONT’D)
          What's your malfunction you fat
          fuckin' barrel of monkey-spunk?

                    FAT-ASS
          PLEASE! THIS AIN'T RIGHT! I AIN'T
          SUPPOSED TO BE HERE! NOT ME!

                    HADLEY
          I ain't gonna count to three! Not
          even to one! Now shut the fuck up
          'fore I sing you a lullabye!

Fat-Ass keeps blubbering and wailing. Total freak-out.
Hadley draws his baton, gestures to his men. Open it.

A GUARD unlocks the cell. Hadley pulls Fat-Ass out and
starts beating him with the baton, brutally raining blows.
Fat-Ass falls, tries to crawl.

The place goes dead silent. All we hear now is the dull
THWACK-THWACK-THWACK of the baton. Fat-ass passes out.
Hadley gets in a few more licks and finally stops.

                     HADLEY (CONT’D)
          Get this tub of shit down to the
          infirmary.
              (peers around)
          If I hear so much as a mouse fart
          in here the rest of the night, by
          God and Sonny Jesus, you'll all
          visit the infirmary. Every last
          motherfucker here.

The guards wrestle Fat-Ass onto a stretcher and carry him
off. FOOTSTEPS echo away. Lights off. Darkness again.
Silence.

INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947)

Red stares through the bars at the main floor below, eyes
riveted to the small puddle of blood where Fat-Ass went
down.
                                                      18.


                    RED (V.O.)
          His first night in the joint, Andy
          Dufresne cost me two packs of
          cigarettes. He never made a
          sound...

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- MORNING (1947)

LOUD BUZZER. The master locks are thrown -- KA-THUMP! The
cons step from their cells, lining the tiers. The GUARDS
holler their head-counts to the HEAD BULL, who jots on a
clipboard. Red peers at Andy, checking him out. Andy stands
in line, collar buttoned, hair combed.

INT -- MESS HALL -- MORNING (1947)

Andy goes through the breakfast line, gets a scoop of glop
on his tray. WE PAN ANDY through the noise and
confusion...and discover BOGS DIAMOND and ROOSTER MacBRIDE
watching Andy go by. Bogs sizes Andy up with a salacious
gleam in his eye, mutters something to Rooster. Rooster
laughs.

Andy finds a table occupied by Red and his regulars, chooses
a spot at the end where nobody is sitting. Ignoring their
stares, he picks up his spoon -- and pauses, seeing
something in his food. He carefully fishes it out with his
fingers.

It's a squirming maggot. Andy grimaces, unsure what to do
with it. BROOKS HATLEN is sitting closest to Andy. At age
65, he's a senior citizen, a long-standing resident.

                    BROOKS
          You gonna eat that?

                    ANDY
          Hadn't planned on it.

                      BROOKS
          You mind?

Andy passes the maggot to Brooks. Brooks examines it,
rolling it between his fingertips like a man checking out a
fine cigar. Andy is riveted with apprehension.

                    BROOKS (CONT’D)
          Mmm. Nice and ripe.

Andy can't bear to watch. Brooks opens up his sweater and
feeds the maggot to a baby crow nestled in an inside pocket.
Andy breathes a sigh of relief.
                                                      19.


                    BROOKS (CONT’D)
          Jake says thanks. Fell out of his
          nest over by the plate shop. I'm
          lookin' after him till he's old
          enough to fly.

Andy nods, proceeds to eat. Carefully. Heywood approaches.

                    JIGGER
          Oh, Christ, here he comes.

                    HEYWOOD
          Mornin', boys. It's a fine mornin'.
          You know why it's fine?

Heywood plops his tray down, sits. The men start pulling out
cigarettes and handing them down.

                    HEYWOOD (CONT’D)
          That's right, send 'em all down. I
          wanna see 'em lined up in a row,
          pretty as a chorus line.

An impressive pile forms. Heywood bends down and inhales
deeply, smelling the aroma. Rapture.

                    FLOYD
          Smell my ass...

                    HEYWOOD
          Gee, Red. Terrible shame, your
          horse comin' in last and all. Hell,
          I sure do love that horse of mine.
          I believe I owe that boy a big
          sloppy kiss when I see him.

                    RED
          Give him some'a your cigarettes
          instead, cheap bastard.

                    HEYWOOD
          Say Tyrell, you pull infirmary duty
          this week? How's that winnin' horse
          of mine, anyway?

                    TYRELL
          Dead.
              (the men fall silent)
          Hadley busted his head pretty good.
          Doc already went home for the
          night. Poor bastard lay there till
          this morning. By then...
                                                         20.


He shakes his head, turns back to his food. The silence
mounts. Heywood glances around. Men resume eating. Softly:

                    ANDY
          What was his name?

                    HEYWOOD
          What? What'd you say?

                    ANDY
          I was wondering if anyone knew his
          name.

                    HEYWOOD
          What the fuck you care, new fish?
              (resumes eating)
          Doesn't matter what his fuckin'
          name was. He's dead.

INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- DAY (1947)

A DEAFENING NOISE of industrial washers and presses. Andy
works the laundry line. A nightmarish job. He's new at it.
BOB, the con foreman, elbows him aside and shows him how
it's done.

INT -- SHOWERS -- DAY (1947)

Shower heads mounted in bare concrete. Andy showers with a
dozen or more men. No modesty here. At least the water is
good and hot, soothing his tortured muscles.

Bogs looms from the billowing steam, smiling, checking Andy
up and down. Rooster and PETE appear from the sides. The
Sisters.

                    BOGS
          You're some sweet punk. You been
          broke in yet?

Andy tries to step past them. He gets shoved around, nothing
serious, just some slap and tickle. Jackals sizing up prey.

                    BOGS (CONT’D)
          Hard to get. I like that.

Andy breaks free, flushed and shaking. He hurries off,
leaving the three Sisters laughing.

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947)

Andy lies staring at the darkness, unable to sleep.
                                                      21.


EXT -- EXERCISE YARD -- DAY (1947)

Exercise period. Red plays catch with Heywood and Jigger,
lazily tossing a baseball around. Red notices Andy off to
the side. Nods hello. Andy takes this as a cue to amble
over. Heywood and Jigger pause, watching.

                    ANDY
              (offers his hand)
          Hello. I'm Andy Dufresne.

Red glances at the hand, ignores it. The game continues.

                    RED
          The wife-killin' banker.

                    ANDY
          How do you know that?

                     RED
          I keep my ear to the ground. Why'd
          you do it?

                    ANDY
          I didn't, since you ask.

                    RED
          Hell, you'll fit right in, then.
              (off Andy's look)
          Everyone's innocent in here, don't
          you know that? Heywood! What are
          you in for, boy?

                    HEYWOOD
          Didn't do it! Lawyer fucked me!

Red gives Andy a look. See?

                    ANDY
          What else have you heard?

                    RED
          People say you're a cold fish. They
          say you think your shit smells
          sweeter than ordinary. That true?

                    ANDY
          What do you think?

                    RED
          Ain't made up my mind yet.

Heywood nudges Jigger. Watch this. He winds up and throws
the ball hard -- right at Andy's head.
                                                      22.


Andy sees it coming out of the corner of his eye, whirls and
catches it. Beat. He sends the ball right back, zinging it
into Heywood's hands. Heywood drops the ball and grimaces,
wringing his stung hands.

                    ANDY
          I understand you're a man who knows
          how to get things.

                    RED
          I'm known to locate certain things
          from time to time. They seem to
          fall into my hands. Maybe it's
          'cause I'm Irish.

                    ANDY
          I wonder if you could get me a rock-
          hammer?

                    RED
          What is it and why?

                    ANDY
          You make your customers' motives a
          part of your business?

                    RED
          If you wanted a toothbrush, I
          wouldn't ask questions. I'd just
          quote a price. A toothbrush, see,
          is a non-lethal sort of object.

                     ANDY
          Fair enough. A rock-hammer is about
          eight or nine inches long. Looks
          like a miniature pickaxe, with a
          small sharp pick on one end, and a
          blunt hammerhead on the other. It's
          for rocks.

                    RED
          Rocks.

Andy squats, motions Red to join him. Andy grabs a handful
of dirt and sifts it through his hands. He finds a pebble
and rubs it clean. It has a nice milky glow. He tosses it to
Red.

                    RED (CONT’D)
          Quartz?

                    ANDY
          Quartz, sure. And look. Mica.
          Shale. Silted granite.
                    (MORE)
                                                        23.

                    ANDY (CONT'D)
          There's some graded limestone, from
          when they cut this place out of the
          hill.

                    RED
          So?

                    ANDY
          I'm a rockhound. At least I was, in
          my old life. I'd like to be again,
          on a limited scale.

                    RED
          Yeah, that or maybe plant your toy
          in somebody's skull?

                    ANDY
          I have no enemies here.

                    RED
          No? Just wait.

Red flicks his gaze past Andy. Bogs is watching them.

                    RED (CONT’D)
          Word gets around. The Sisters have
          taken a real shine to you, yes they
          have. Especially Bogs.

                    ANDY
          Tell me something. Would it help if
          I explained to them I'm not
          homosexual?

                    RED
          Neither are they. You have to be
          human first. They don't qualify.
              (off Andy's look)
          Bull queers take by force, that's
          all they want or understand. I'd
          grow eyes in the back of my head if
          I were you.

                    ANDY
          Thanks for the advice.

                    RED
          That comes free. But you understand
          my concern.

                    ANDY
          If there's trouble, I doubt a rock-
          hammer will do me any good.
                                      24.


          RED
Then I guess you wanna escape.
Tunnel under the wall maybe?
    (Andy laughs politely)
I miss the joke. What's so funny?

          ANDY
You'll know when you see the rock-
hammer.

          RED
What's this item usually go for?

          ANDY
Seven dollars in any rock and gem
shop.

          RED
My standard mark-up's twenty
percent, but we're talkin' about a
special object. Risk goes up, price
goes up. Call it ten bucks even.

             ANDY
Ten it is.

          RED
I'll see what I can do.
    (rises, slapping dust)
But it's a waste of money.

             ANDY
Oh?

          RED
Folks who run this place love
surprise inspections. They turn a
blind eye to some things, but not a
gadget like that. They'll find it,
and you'll lose it. Mention my
name, we'll never do business
again. Not for a pair of shoelaces
or a stick of gum.

          ANDY
I understand. Thank you, Mr...?

          RED
Red. The name's Red.

          ANDY
Red. I'm Andy. Pleasure doing
business with you.
                                                      25.


They shake. Andy strolls off. Red watches him go.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I could see why some of the boys
          took him for snobby. He had a quiet
          way about him, a walk and a talk
          that just wasn't normal around
          here. He strolled. like a man in a
          park without a care or worry. Like
          he had on an invisible coat that
          would shield him from this place.
              (resumes playing catch)
          Yes, I think it would be fair to
          say I liked Andy from the start.

INT -- MESS HALL -- DAY (1947)

Red gets his breakfast and heads for a table. Andy falls in
step, slips him a tightly-folded square of paper.

INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947)

Lying on his bunk, Red unfolds the square. A ten dollar
bill.

                    RED (V.O.)
          He was a man who adapted fast.

EXT -- LOADING DOCK -- DAY (1947)

Under watchful supervision, CONS are off-loading bags of
dirty laundry from an "Eliot Nursing Home" truck.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Years later, I found out he'd
          brought in quite a bit more than
          just ten dollars...

A certain bag hits the ground. The TRUCK DRIVER shoots a
look at a black con, LEONARD, then ambles over to a GUARD to
shoot the shit. Leonard loads the bag onto a cart...

INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- DAY (1947)

Bags are being unloaded. We find Leonard working the line.

                    RED (V.O.)
          When they check you into this
          hotel, one of the bellhops bends
          you over and looks up your works,
          just to make sure you're not
          carrying anything. But a truly
          determined man can get an object
          quite a ways up there.
                                                      26.


Leonard slips a small paper-wrapped package out of the
laundry bag, hides it under his apron, and keeps sorting...

INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY EXCHANGE -- DAY (1947)

Red deposits his dirty bundle and moves down the line to
where the clean sheets are being handed out.

                    RED (V.O.)
          That's how Andy joined our happy
          little Shawshank family with more
          than five hundred dollars on his
          person. Determination.

Leonard catches Red's eye, turns and grabs a specific stack
of clean sheets. He hands it across to Red --

TIGHT ANGLE

-- and more than clean laundry changes hands. Two packs of
cigarettes slide out of Red's hand into Leonard's.

INT -- RED'S CELL -- DAY (1947)

Red slips the package out of his sheets, carefully checks to
make sure nobody's coming, then rips it open. He pulls out
the rock-hammer. It's just as Andy described. Red laughs
softly.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Andy was right. I finally got the
          joke. It would take a man about six
          hundred years to tunnel under the
          wall with one of these.

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- 2ND TIER -- NIGHT (1947)

Brooks Hatlen pushes a cart of books from cell to cell. The
rolling library. He finds Red waiting for him. Red slips the
rock-hammer, wrapped in a towel, through the bars and onto
the cart. Next comes six cigarettes to pay for postage.

                      RED
          Dufresne.

Brooks nods, never missing a beat. He rolls his cart to
Andy's cell, mutters through the bars:

                    BROOKS
          Middle shelf, wrapped in a towel.

Andy's hand snakes through the bars and makes the object
disappear. The hand comes back and deposits a small slip of
folded paper along with more cigarettes.
                                                      27.


Brooks turns his cart around and goes back. He pauses,
sorting his books long enough for Red to snag the slip of
paper. Brooks continues on, scooping the cigarettes off the
cart and into his pocket.

INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947)

Red unfolds the slip of paper. Penciled neatly on it is a
single word: "Thanks."

INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- DAY (1947)

We are assaulted by the deafening noise of the laundry line.
Andy is doing his job, getting good at it.

                    BOB
          DUFRESNE! WE'RE LOW ON HEXLITE!
          HEAD ON BACK AND FETCH US UP SOME!

Andy nods. He leaves the line, weaving his way through the
laundry room and into --

INT -- BACK ROOMS/STOCK AREA -- DAY (1947)

-- a dark, tangled maze of rooms and corridors, boilers and
furnaces, sump pumps, old washing machines, pallets of
cleaning supplies and detergents, you name it. Andy hefts a
cardboard drum of Hexlite off the stack, turns around --

-- and finds Bogs Diamond in the aisle. blocking his way.
Rooster looms from the shadows to his right, Pete Verness on
the left. A frozen beat. Andy slams the Hexlite to the
floor, rips off the top, and scoops out a double handful.

                    ANDY
          You get this in your eyes, it
          blinds you.

                    BOGS
          Honey, hush.

Andy backs up, holding them at bay, trying to maneuver
through the maze. The Sisters keep coming, tense and
guarded, eyes riveted and gauging his every move, trying to
outflank him. Andy trips on some old gaint sugglies. That's
all it takes. They're on him in an instant, kicking and
stomping.

Andy gets yanked to his feet. Bogs applies a chokehold from
behind. They propel him across the room and slam him against
an old four-pocket machine, bending him over it. Rooster
jams a rag into Andy's mouth and secures it with a steel
pipe, like a horse bit.
                                                      28.


Andy kicks and struggles, but Rooster and Pete have his arms
firmly pinned. Bogs whispers in Andy's ear:

                    BOGS (CONT’D)
          That's it, fight. Better that way.

Andy starts screaming, muffled by the rag. CAMERA PULLS
BACK, SLOWLY WIDENING. The big Washex blocks our view. All
we see is Andy's screaming face and the men holding him
down...

...and CAMERA DRIFTS FROM THE ROOM, leaving the dark place
and the dingy act behind...MOVING up empty corridors, past
concrete walls and steel pipes...

                    RED (V.O.)
          I wish I could tell you that Andy
          fought the good fight, and the
          Sisters let him be. I wish I could
          tell you that, but prison is no
          fairy-tale world.

WE EMERGE into the prison laundry past a guard, WIDENING for
a final view of the line. The giant steel "mangler" is
slapping down in brutal rhythm. The sound is deafening.

                    RED (V.O.)
          He never said who did it...but we
          all knew.

PRISON MONTAGE: (1947 THROUGH 1949)

ANDY PLODS THROUGH HIS DAYS. WORKING. EATING. CHIPPING AND

shaping his rocks after lights-out...

                    RED (V.O.)
          Things went on like that for a
          while. Prison life consists of
          routine, and then more routine.

ANDY WALKS THE YARD, FACE SWOLLEN AND BRUISED.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Every so often, Andy would show up
          with fresh bruises.

ANDY EATS BREAKFAST. A FEW TABLES OVER, BOGS BLOWS HIM A
KISS

                    RED (V.O.)
          The Sisters kept at him. Sometimes
          he was able to fight them off...
          sometimes not.
                                                      29.


ANDY BACKS INTO A CORNER IN SOME DINGY PART OF THE PRISON,

wildly swinging a rake at his tormentors.

                    RED (V.O.)
          He always fought, that's what I
          remember. He fought because he knew
          if he didn't fight, it would make
          it that much easier not to fight
          the next time.

The rake connects, snapping off over somebody's skull. They
beat the hell out of him.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Half the time it landed him in the
          infirmary...

INT -- SOLITARY CONFINEMENT ("THE HOLE") -- NIGHT (1949)

A stone closet. No bed, sink, or lights. Just a toilet with
no seat. Andy sits on bare concrete, bruised face lit by a
faint ray of light falling through the tiny slit in the
steel door.

                    RED (V.O.)
          ...the other half, it landed him in
          solitary. Warden Norton's "grain &
          drain" vacation. Bread, water, and
          all the privacy you could want.

INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- DAY (1949)

Andy is working the line.

                    RED (V.O.)
          And that's how it went for Andy.
          That was his routine. I do believe
          those first two years were the
          worst for him. And I also believe
          if things had gone on that way,
          this place would have got the best
          of him. But then, in the spring of
          1949, the powers-that-be decided
          that...

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1949)

Warden Norton addresses the assembled cons via bullhorn:

                    NORTON
          ...the roof of the license-plate
          factory needs resurfacing. I need a
          dozen volunteers for a week's work.
                    (MORE)
                                                        30.

                     NORTON (CONT'D)
           We're gonna be taking names in this
           steel bucket here...

Red glances around at his friends. Andy also catches his
eye.

                     RED (V.O.)
           It was outdoor detail, and May is
           one damn fine month to be workin'
           outdoors.

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1949)

Cons shuffle past, dropping slips of paper into a bucket.

                     RED (V.O.)
           More than a hundred men volunteered
           for the job.

Red saunters to a guard named TIM YOUNGBLOOD, mutters
discreetly in his ear.

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1949)

Youngblood is pulling names and reading them off. Red
exchanges grins with Andy and the others.

                     RED (V.O.)
           Wouldn't you know it? Me and some
           fellas I know were among the names
           called.

INT -- PRISON CORRIDOR -- NIGHT (1949)

Red slips Youngblood six packs of cigarettes.

                     RED (V.O.)
           Only cost us a pack of smokes per
           man. I made my usual twenty
           percent, of course.

EXT -- LICENSE PLATE FACTORY -- DAY (1949)

A tar-cooker bubbles and smokes. TWO CONS dip up a bucket of
tar and tie a rope to the handle. The rope goes taught.
CAMERA FOLLOWS the bucket of tar up the side of the building
to --

THE ROOF

-- where it is relayed to the work detail. the men are
dipping big Padd brushes and spreading the tar. ANGLZ OVER
to Byron Hadley bitching sourly to his fellow guards:
                                      31.


          HADLEY
...so this shithead lawyer calls
long distance from Texas, and he
says, Byron Hadley? I say, yeah. He
says, sorry to inform you, but your
brother just died.

          YOUNGBLOOD
Damn, Byron. Sorry to hear that.

          HADLEY
I ain't. He was an asshole. Run off
years ago, family ain't heard of
him since. Figured him for dead
anyway. So this lawyer prick says,
your brother died a rich man. Oil
wells and shit, close to a million
bucks. Jesus, it's frigging
incredible how lucky some assholes
can get.

          TROUT
A million bucks? Jeez-Louise! You
get any of that?

          HADLEY
Thirty five thousand. That's what
he left me.

           TROUT
Dollars? Holy shit, that's great!
Like winnin' a lottery...
    (off Hadley's shitty
     look)
...ain't it?

          HADLEY
Dumbshit. What do you figger the
government's gonna do to me? Take a
big wet bite out of my ass, is
what.

          TROUT
Oh. Hadn't thought of that.

          HADLEY
Maybe leave me enough to buy a new
car with. Then what happens? You
pay tax on the car. Repairs and
maintenance. Goddamn kids pesterin'
you to take 'em for a ride...
                                                        32.


                    MERT
          And drive it, if they're old
          enough.

                    HADLEY
          That's right, wanting to drive it,
          wanting to learn on it,
          f'Chrissake! Then at the end of the
          year, if you figured the tax wrong,
          they make you pay out of your own
          pocket. Uncle Sam puts his hand in
          your shirt and squeezes your tit
          till it's purple. Always get the
          short end. That's a fact.
              (spits over the side)
          Some brother. Shit.

The prisoners keep spreading tar, eyes on their work.

                    HEYWOOD
          Poor Byron. What terrible fuckin'
          luck. Imagine inheriting thirty
          five thousand dollars.

                     RED
          Crying shame. Some folks got it
          awful bad.

Red glances over -- and is shocked to see Andy standing up,
listening to the guards talk.

                     RED (CONT’D)
          Hey, you nuts? Keep your eyes on
          your pail!

Andy tosses his Padd in the bucket and strolls toward
Hadley.

                    RED (CONT’D)
          Andy! Come back! Shit!

                    SNOOZE
          What's he doing?

                    FLOYD
          Gettin' himself killed.

                    RED
          God damn it...

                    HEYWOOD
          Just keep spreadin' tar...
                                                      33.


The guards stiffen at Andy's approach. Youngblood's hand
goes to his holster. The tower guards CLICK-CLACK their
rifle bolts. Hadley turns, stupefied to find Andy there.

                    ANDY
          Mr. Hadley. Do you trust your wife?

                    HADLEY
          That's funny. You're gonna look
          funnier suckin' my dick with no
          fuckin' teeth.

                    ANDY
          What I mean is, do you think she'd
          go behind your back? Try to
          hamstring you?

                    HADLEY
          That's it! Step aside, Mert. This
          fucker's havin' hisself an
          accident.

Hadley grabs Andy's collar and propels him violently toward
the edge of the roof. The cons furiously keep spreading tar.

                    HEYWOOD
          Oh God, he's gonna do it, he's
          gonna throw him off the roof...

                    SNOOZE
          Oh shit, oh fuck, oh Jesus...

                    ANDY
          Because if you do trust her,
          there's no reason in the world you
          can't keep every cent of that
          money.

Hadley abruptly jerks Andy to a stop right at the edge. In
fact, Andy's past the edge, beyond his balance, shoetips
scraping the roof. The only thing between him and an ugly
drop to the concrete is Hadley's grip on the front of his
shirt.

                    HADLEY
          You better start making sense.

                    ANDY
          If you want to keep that money, all
          of it, just give it to your wife.
          See, the IRS allows you a one-time-
          only gift to your spouse. It's good
          up to sixty thousand dollars.
                                                      34.


                    HADLEY
          Naw, that ain't right! Tax free?

                    ANDY
          Tax free. IRS can't touch one cent.

The cons are pausing work, stunned by this business
discussion.

                    HADLEY
          You're the smart banker what shot
          his wife. Why should I believe a
          smart banker like you? So's I can
          wind up in here with you?

                    ANDY
          It's perfectly legal. Go ask the
          IRS, they'll say the same thing.
          Actually, I feel silly telling you
          all this. I'm sure you would have
          investigated the matter yourself.

                     HADLEY
          Fuckin'-A. I don't need no smart
          wife-killin' banker to show me
          where the bear shit in the
          buckwheat.

                    ANDY
          Of course not. But you will need
          somebody to set up the tax-free
          gift, and that'll cost you. A
          lawyer, for example...

                    HADLEY
          Ambulance-chaaing, highway-robbing
          cocksuckers!

                    ANDY
          ...or come to think of it, I
          suppose I could set it up for you.
          That would save you some money.
          I'll write down the forms you need,
          you can pick them up, and I'll
          prepare them for your signature...
          nearly free of charge.
              (off Hadley's look)
          I'd only ask three beers apiece for
          my co-workers, if that seems fair.

                    TROUT
              (guffawing)
          Co-workers! Get him! That's rich,
          ain't it? Co-workers...
                                                      35.


Hadley freezes him with a look. Andy presses on:

                    ANDY
          I think a nan working outdoors
          feels more like a man if he can
          have a bottle of suds. That's only
          my opinion.

The convicts stand gaping, all pretense of work gone. They
look like they've been pole-axed. Hadley shoots them a look.

                    HADLEY
          What are you jimmies starin' at?
          Back to work, goddamn it!

EXT -- LICENSE PLATE FACTORY -- DAY (1949)

As before, an object is hauled up the side of the building
by rope -- only this time, it's a cooler of beer and ice.

                    RED (V.O.)
          And that's how it came to pass,
          that on the second-to-last day of
          the job, the convict crew that
          tarred the plate factory roof in
          the spring of '49...

EXT -- ROOF -- SHORTLY LATER (1949)

The cons are taking the sun and drinking beer.

                    RED (V.O.)
          ...wound up sitting in a row at ten
          o'clock in the morning, drinking
          icy cold Black Label beer courtesy
          of the hardest screw that ever
          walked a turn at Shawshank State
          Prison.

                    HADLEY
          Drink up, boys. While it's cold.

                    RED (V.O.)
          The colossal prick even managed to
          sound magnanimous.

Red knocks back another sip, enjoying the bitter cold on his
tongue and the warm sun on face.

                    RED (V.O.)
          We sat and drank with the sun on
          our shoulders, and felt like free
          men. We could'a been tarring the
                                                      36.


roof of one of our own houses. We were the Lords of all
Creation.

He glances over to Andy squatting apart from the others.

                    RED (V.O.)
          As for Andy, he spent that break
          hunkered in the shade, a strange
          little smile on his face, watching
          us drink his beer.

                    HEYWOOD
              (approaches with a beer)
          Here's a cold one, Andy.

                    ANDY
          No thanks. I gave up drinking.

Heywood drifts back to others, giving them a look.

                    RED (V.O.)
          You could argue he'd done it to
          curry favor with the guards. Or
          maybe make a few friends among us
          cons. Me, I think he did it just to
          feel normal again...if only for a
          short while.

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- THE BLEACHERS -- DAY (1949)

Andy and Red play checkers. Red makes his move.

                     RED
          King me.

                    ANDY
          Chess. Now there's a game of kings.
          Civilized...strategic...

                    RED
          ...and totally fuckin'
          inexplicable. Hate that game.

                    ANDY
          Maybe you'll let me teach you
          someday. I've been thinking of
          getting a board together.

                    RED
          You come to the right place. I'm
          the man who can get things.
                                                    37.


                     ANDY
          We might do business on a board.
          But the pieces, I'd like to carve
          those myself. One side done in
          quartz... the opposing side in
          limestone.

                    RED
          That'd take you years.

                    ANDY
          Years I've got. What I don't have
          are the rocks. Pickings here in the
          exercise yard are pretty slim.

                    RED
          How's that rock-hammer workin' out
          anyway? Scratch your name on your
          wall yet?

                    ANDY
              (smiles)
          Not yet. I suppose I should.

                    RED
          Andy? I guess we're gettin' to be
          friends, ain't we?

                    ANDY
          I suppose we are.

                    RED
          I ask a question? Why'd you do it?

                    ANDY
          I'm innocent, remember? Just like
          everybody else here.

Red takes this as a gentle rebuff, keeps playing.

                    ANDY (CONT’D)
          What are you in for, Red?

                    RED
          Murder. Same as you.

                      ANDY
          Innocent?

                    RED
          The only guilty man in Shawshank.
                                                      38.


INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1949)

Andy lies in his bunk after lights out, polishing a fragment
of quartz by the light of the moon. He pauses, glancing at
all the names scratched in the wall. He rises, makes sure
the coast is clear, and starts scratching his name into the
cement with his rock-hammer, adding to the record.

RAY MILLAND

fills the screen in glorious (and scratchy) black & white,
suffering a bad case of DT's...

INT -- PRISON AUDITORIUM -- NIGHT (1949)

...while a CONVICT AUDIENCE hoots and catcalls, talking back
to the screen. We find Red slouched in a folding chair,
watching the movie. Andy enters, backlit by the flickering
glare of the projector, and takes a seat next to him.

                    RED
          Here's the good part. Bugs come out
          of the walls to get his ass.

                    ANDY
          I know. I've seen it three times
          this month already.

Ray Milland starts SCREAMING. The entire audience SCREAMS
with him, high-pitched and hysterical. Andy fidgets.

                    ANDY (CONT’D)
          Can we talk business?

                    RED
          Sure. What do you want?

                    ANDY
          Rita Hayworth. Can you get her?

                    RED
          No problem. Take a few weeks.

                    ANDY
          Weeks?

                    RED
          Don't have her stuffed down my
          pants this very moment, sorry to
          say. Relax. What are you so nervous
          about? She's just a woman.

Andy nods, embarrassed. He gets up and hurries out. Red
grins, turns back to the movie.
                                                      39.


INT -- AUDITORIUM CORRIDOR -- NIGHT (1949)

Andy exits the theater and freezes in his tracks. Two dark
figures loom in the corridor, blocking his path. Rooster and
Pete. Andy turns back -- and runs right into Bogs. Instant
bear hug. The Sisters are on him like a flash. They kick a
door open and drag him into --

THE PROJECTION BOOTH

-- where they confront the startled PROJECTIONIST, an old
con blinking at them through thick bifocals.

                    BOGS
          Take a walk.

                    PROJECTIONIST
          I have to change reels.

                    BOGS
          I said fuck off.

Terrified, the old man darts past and out the door. Pete
slams and locks it. Bogs shoves Andy to the center of the
room.

                    ANDY
          I know. I've seen it three times
          this month already.

Ray Milland starts SCREAMING. The entire audience SCREAMS
witt him, high-pitched and hysterical. Andy fidgets.

                    ANDY (CONT’D)
          Can we talk business?

                    RED
          Sure. What do you want?

                    ANDY
          Rita Hayworth. Can you get her?

                    RED
          No problem. Take a few weeks.

                       ANDY
          Weeks?

                    RED
          Don't have her stuffed down my
          pants this very moment, sorry to
          say. Relax. What are you so nervous
          about? She's just a woman.
                                                      40.


Andy nods, embarrassed. He gets up and hurries out. Red
grins, turns back to the movie.

INT -- AUDITORIUM CORRIDOR -- NIGHT (1949)

Andy exits the theater and freezes in his tracks. Two dark
figures loom in the corridor, blocking his path. Rooster and
Pete. Andy turns back -- and runs right into Bogs. Instant
bear hug. The Sisters are on him like a flash. They kick a
door open and drag him into --

THE PROJECTION BOOTH

-- where they confront the startled PROJECTIONIST, an old
con blinking at them through thick bifocals.

                    BOGS
          Take a walk.

                    PROJECTIONIST
          I have to change reels.

                    BOGS
          I said fuck off.

Terrified, the old man darts past and out the door. Pete
slams and locks it. Bogs shoves Andy to the center of the
room.

                    BOGS (CONT’D)
          Ain't you gonna scream?

Andy sighs, cocks his head at the projector.

                    ANDY
          They'd never hear me over that.
          Let's get this over with.

Seemingly resigned, Andy turns around, leans on the rewind
bench -- and curls his fingers around a full 1.000 foot reel
of 35mm film. Rooster licks his lips, pushes past the
others.

                       ROOSTER
          Me first.

                       ANDY
          Okay.

Andy whips the reel of film around in a vicious arc,
smashing it into Rooster's face and bouncing him off the
wall.
                                                      41.


                    ROOSTER
          Fuck! Shit! He broke my nose!

Andy fights like hell, but is soon overpowered and forced to
his knees. Bogs steps to Andy, pulls out an awl with a
vicious eight-inch spike, gives him a good long look at it.

                    BOGS
          Now I'm gonna open my fly, and
          you're gonna swallow what I give
          you to swallow. And when you d
          mine, you gonna swallow Rooster's.
          You done broke his nose, so he
          ought to have somethin' to show for
          it.

                    ANDY
          Anything you put in my mouth,
          you're going to lose.

                    BOGS
          You don't understand. You do that,
          I'll put all eight inches of this
          steel ii your ear.

                    ANDY
          Okay. But you should know that
          sudden serious brain injury causes
          the victim to bite down. Hard.
              (faint smile)
          In fact, I understand the bite-
          reflex is so strong the victim's
          jaws have to be pried open with a
          crowbar.

The Sisters consider this carefully. The film runs out of
the projector, flapping on the reel. The screen goes white.

                    BOGS
          You little fuck.

Andy gets a bootheel in the face. The Sisters start kicking
and beating the living shit out of him with anything they
can get their hands on. In the theater, the convicts are
CHANTING AND CLAPPING for the movie to come back on.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Bogs didn't put anything in Andy's
          mouth, and neither did his friends.
          What they did do is beat him within
          an inch of his life...
                                                      42.


INT -- INFIRMARY -- DAY (1949)

Andy lies wrapped in bandages.

                     RED (V.O.)
           Andy spent a month in traction.

INT -- SOLITARY CONFINEMENT -- DAY (1949)

                     RED (V.O.)
           Bogs spent a week in the hole.

Bogs sits on bare concrete. The steel door slides open.

                     GUARD
           Time's up, Bogs.

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- 3RD TIER -- DUSK (1949)

Bogs comes up the stairs, smoking a cigarette. Not many cons
around; the place is virtually deserted. A VOICE echoes
dimly over the P.A. system:

                     VOICE (O.S.)
           Return to your cellblocks for
           evening count.

Bogs enters his cell. Dark in here. He fumbles for the light
cord, yanks it. The sudden light reveals Captain Hadley six
inches from his face, waiting for him. Mert steps in behind
Bogs. hemming him.

Before Bogs can even open his mouth to say "what the fuck,"
Hadley rams the tip of his baton brutally into his solar
plexus. Bogs doubles over, gagging his wind out.

GROUND FLOOR

Ernie comes slowly around the corner, rolling a steel mop
cart loaded with supplies.

2ND TIER

Red is darning a sock in his open cell. He pauses, frowning,
hearing strange THUMPING sounds. What the hell is that?

3RD TIER

It's Hadley and Mert methodically and brutally pulping Bogs
with their batons, and kicking the shit out of him for good
measure. He feebly tries to ward them off.

2ND TIER
                                                      43.


Puzzled, Red steps from his cell, following the sound. It
dawns on him that it's coming from above. He moves to the
railing and leans out, craning around to look up --

RED'S POV

-- just as Bogs flips over the railing and comes sailing

directly toward us, eyes bugging out, SCREAMING as he falls.

RED (SLOW MOTION)

jumps back as Bogs plummets past, missing him by inches,
arms swimming and trying to grab the railing (but missing
that too), SCREAMING aaaaalll the way down --

GROUND FLOOR

-- and impacting on Ernie's gassing mop cart in an enormous
eruption of solvents and cleansers. The cart is squashed
flat, shooting out from under Bogs and skidding across the
cellblock floor like a tiddly wink, kicking up sparks for
thirty yards. Ernie is left gaping in shock at Bogs and all
the Bogs-related wreckage at his feet.

2ND TIER

Red is stunned. He very tentatively leans out and looks up.
Above him, Hadley and Mert lean on the 3rd tier railing.
Hadley tilts the cap back on his head, shakes his head.

                      MERT
            Damn, Byron. Look'a that.

                      HADLEY
            Poor fella must'a tripped.

A tiny drop of blood drips off the toe of Hadley's shoe and

splashes across Red's upturned cheek. He wipes it off, then
looks down at Bogs. Cons and guards are racing to the scene.

                      RED (V.O.)
            Two things never happened again
            after that. The Sisters never laid
            a finger on Andy again...

EXT -- PRISON YARD/LOADING DOCK -- DAY (1949)

Bogs, wheelchair-bound and wearing a neck brace, is loaded
onto an ambulance for transport. Behind the fence stand Red
and his friends, watching.
                                                      44.


                    RED (V.O.)
          ...and Bogs never walked again.
          They transferred him to a minimum
          security hospital upstate. To my
          knowledge, he lived out the rest of
          his days drinking his food through
          a straw.

                    RED
          I'm thinkin' Andy could use a nice
          welcome back when he gets out of
          the infirmary.

                    HEYWOOD
          Sounds good to us. Figure we owe
          him for the beer.

                    RED
          Man likes to play chess. Let's get
          him some rocks.

EXT -- FIELD -- DAY (1949)

A HUNDRED CONS at work. Hoes rise and fall in long waves.
GUARDS patrol on horseback. Heywood turns up a rocky chunk,
quickly shoves it down his pants. He maneuvers to Red and
the others, pulls out the chunk and shows it to them.

                    FLOYD
          That ain't quartz. Nor limestone.

                    HEYWOOD
          What are you, fuckin' geologist?

                    SNOOZE
          He's right, it ain't.

                    HEYWOOD
          What the hell is it then?

                    RED
          Horse apple.

                      HEYWOOD
          Bullshit.

                    RED
          No, horse shit. Petrified.

Cackling, the men go back to work. Heywood stares at the
rock. He crumbles it in his hands.
                                                      45.


                    RED (V.O.)
          Despite a few hitches, the boys
          came through in fine style...

INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- BACK ROOM -- DAY (1949)

A huge detergent box is filled with rocks, hidden in the
shadows behind a boiler furnace.

                    RED (V.O.)
          ...and by the week Andy was due
          back, we had enough rocks saved up
          to keep him busy till Rapture.

ANGLE SHIFTS to Red as he plops a bag of "laundry" on the
floor. Leonard and Bob toss a few more down. Red starts
pulling out contraband, giving them their commissions.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Also got a big shipment in that
          week. Cigarettes, chewing gum,
          shoelaces, playing cards with naked
          ladies on 'em, you name it...
              (pulls a cardboard tube)
          ...and, of course, the most
          important item.

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- NIGHT (1949)

Andy, limping a bit, returns from the infirmary. Red watches
from his cell as Andy is brought up and locked away.

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1949)

Andy finds the cardboard tube lying on his bunk.

                    GUARD (O.S.)
          Lights out!

The lights go off. Andy opens the tube and pulls out a large
rolled poster. He lets it uncurl to the floor. A small scrap
of paper flutters out, landing at his feet. The poster is
the famous Rita Hayworth pin-up -- one hand behind her head,
eyes half closed, sulky lips parted. Andy picks up the scrap
of paper. It reads: "No charge. Welcome back." Alone in the
dark, Andy smiles.

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- MORNING (1949)

The BUZZER SOUNDS, the cells SLAM OPEN. Cons step from their
cells. Andy catches Red's eye, nods his thanks. As the men
shuffle down to breakfast, Red glances into Andy's cell --
                                                      46.


RED'S POV -- DOLLYING PAST

-- and sees Rita in her new place of honor on Andy's wall.
Sunlight casts a harsh barred shadow across her lovely face.

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- NIGHT (1949)

Ernie is mopping the floor. He glances back and sees Warden
Norton approach the cellblock with an entourage of a DOZEN
GUARDS. Still mopping, Ernie mutters to the nearest cell:

                     ERNIE
           Heads up. They're tossin' cells.

Word travels fast from cell to cell. Cons scramble to tidy
up and hide things. Norton enters, nods to his men. The
guards pair off in all directions, making their choices at
random.

                     GUARD
           What kind'a contraband you hiding
           in there, boy?

Cells are opened, occupants displaced, items scattered,
mattresses overturned. Whatever contraband is found gets
tossed out onto the cellblock floor. Mostly harmless stuff.

A GUARD pulls a sharpened screwdriver out of a mattress,
shoots a nasty look at the CON responsible.

                     NORTON
           Solitary. A week. Make sure he
           takes his Bible.

                     CON
           Too goddamn dark to read down
           there.

                     NORTON
           Add another week for blasphemy.

The man is taken away. Norton's gaze goes up.

                     NORTON (CONT’D)
           Let's try the second tier.

2ND TIER

Norton arrives, makes a thin show of picking a cell at
random. He motions at Andy on his bunk, reading his Bible.
The door is unlocked. Norton enters, trailed by his men.
Andy rises.
                                                      47.


                    ANDY
          Good evening.

Norton gives a curt nod. Hadley and Trout start tossing the
cell in a thorough search. Norton keeps his eyes on Andy,
looking for a wrong glance or nervous blink. He takes the
Bible out of Andy's hand.

                    NORTON
          I'm pleased to see you reading
          this. Any favorite passages?

                    ANDY
          Watch ye therefore, for ye know not
          when the master of the house
          cometh.

                    NORTON
              (smiles)
          Luke. Chapter 13, verse 35. I've
          always liked that one.
              (strolls the cell)
          But I prefer: "I am the light of
          the world. He that followeth me
          shall not walk in darkness, but
          shall have the light of life."

                    ANDY
          John. Chapter 8, verse 12.

                    NORTON
          I hear you're good with numbers.
          How nice. A man should have a
          skill.

                    HADLEY
          You wanna explain this?

Andy glances over. Hadley is holding up a rock blanket, a
polishing cloth roughly the size of an oven mitt.

                    ANDY
          It's called a rock blanket. It's
          for shaping and polishing rocks.
          Little hobby of mine.

Hadley glances at the rocks lining the window sill, turns to
Norton.

                    HADLEY
          Looks pretty clean. Some contraband
          here, nothing to get in a twist
          over.
                                                      48.


Norton nods, strolls to the poster of Rita.

                    NORTON
          I can't say I approve of this...
              (turns to Andy)
          ...but I suppose exceptions can
          always be made.

Norton exits, the guards follow. The cell door is slammed
and locked. Norton pauses, turns back.

                    NORTON (CONT’D)
          I almost forgot.

He reaches through the bars and returns the Bible to Andy.

                    NORTON (CONT’D)
          I'd hate to deprive you of this.
          Salvation lies within.

Norton and his men walk away.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Tossin' cells was just an excuse.
          Truth is, Norton wanted to size
          Andy up.

INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- DAY (1949)

Andy is working the line. Hadley enters and confers briefly
with Bob. Bob nods, crosses to Andy, taps him. Andy turns,
removes an earplug. Bob shouts over the machine noise:

                    BOB
          DUFRESNE! YOU'RE OFF THE LINE!

INT -- WARDEN NORTON'S OFFICE -- DAY (1949)

Andy is led in. Norton is at his desk doing paperwork.
Andy's eyes go to a framed needle-point sampler on the wall
behind him that reads: "HIS JUDGMENT COMETH AND THAT RIGHT
SOON."

                    NORTON
          My wife made that in church group.

                    ANDY
          It's very pretty, sir.

                    NORTON
          You like working in the laundry?

                    ANDY
          No, sir. Not especially.
                                                      49.


                    NORTON
          Perhaps we can find something more
          befitting a man of your education.

INT -- MAIN BUILDING -- STORAGE ROOMS -- DAY (1949)

A series of bleak rooms stacked high with unused filing
cabinets, desks, paint supplies, etc. Andy enters. He hears
a FLUTTER OF WINGS. An adult crow lands on a filing cabinet
and struts back and forth, checking him out. Andy smiles.

                    ANDY
          Hey, Jake. Where's Brooks?

Brooks Hatlen pokes his head out of the back room.

                    BROOKS
          Andy! Thought I heard you out here!

                    ANDY
          I've been reassigned to you.

                    BROOKS
          I know, they told me. Ain't that a
          kick in the ass? Come on in, I'll
          give you the dime tour.

INT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON LIBRARY -- DAY (1949)

Brooks leads Andy into the bleakest back room of all. Rough
plank shelves are lined with books. Brooks' private domain.

                    BROOKS
          Here she is, the Shawshank Prison
          Library. Along this side, we got
          the National Geographics. That
          side, the Reader's Digest Condensed
          books. Bottom shelf there, some
          Louis L'Amours and Erle Stanley
          Gardners. Every night I pile the
          cart and make my rounds. I write
          down the names on this clipboard
          here. Well, that's it. Easy, peasy,
          Japanesey. Any questions?

Andy pauses. Something about this doesn't make any sense.

                     ANDY
          Brooks? How long have you been
          librarian?

                    BROOKS
          Since 1912. Yuh, over 37 years.
                                                      50.


                    ANDY
          In all that time, have you ever had
          an assistant?

                    BROOKS
          Never needed one. Not much to it,
          is there?

                    ANDY
          So why now? Why me?

                    BROOKS
          I dunno. Be nice to have some
          comp'ny down here for a change.

                      HADLEY (O.S.)
          Dufresne!

ANDY STEPS BACK INTO THE OUTER ROOMS AND FINDS HADLEY WITH

another GUARD, a huge fellow named DEKINS.

                    HADLEY (CONT’D)
          That's him. That's the one.

Hadley exits. Dekins approaches Andy ominously. Andy stands
his ground, waiting for whatever comes next. Finally:

                    DEKINS
          I'm Dekins. I been, uh, thinkin'
          'bout maybe settin' up some kinda
          trust fund for my kids' educations.

Andy covers his surprise. Glances at Brooks. Brooks smiles.

                    ANDY
          I see. Well. Why don't we have a
          seat and talk it over?

                    BROOKS
          Pull down one'a them desks there.

Andy and Dekins grab a desk standing on end and tilt it to
the floor. They find chairs and settle in. Brooks returns
with a tablet of paper and a pen, slides them before Andy.

                    ANDY
          What did you have in mind? A weekly
          draw on your pay?

                    DEKINS
          Yuh. I figured just stick it in the
          bank, but Captain Hadley said check
          with you first.
                                                51.


                    ANDY
          He was right. You don't want your
          money in a bank.

                     DEKINS
          I don't?

                    ANDY
          What's that gonna earn you? Two and
          a half, three percent a year? We
          can do a lot better than that.
              (wets his pen)
          So tell me, Mr. Dekins. Where do
          you want to send your kids?
          Harvard? Yale?

INT -- MESS HALL -- DAY (1949)

                    FLOYD
          He didn't say that!

                    BROOKS
          God is my witness. And Dekins, he
          just blinks for a second, then
          laughs his ass off. Afterward, he
          actually shook Andy's hand.

                     HEYWOOD
          My ass!

                    BROOKS
          Shook his fuckin' hand. Just about
          shit myself. All Andy needed was a
          suit and tie, a jiggly little hula
          girl on his desk, he would'a been
          Mister Dufresne, if you please.

                    RED
          Makin' yourself some friends, Andy.

                    ANDY
          I wouldn't say "friends." I'm a
          convicted murderer who provides
          sound financial planning. That's a
          wonderful pet to have.

                    RED
          Got you out of the laundry, didn't
          it?

                    ANDY
          Maybe it can do more than that.
              (off their looks)
                    (MORE)
                                                52.

                    ANDY (CONT'D)
          How about expanding the library?
          Get some new books in there.

                    HEYWOOD
          How you 'spect to do that, "Mr.
          Dufresne-if-you-please?"

                    ANDY
          Ask the warden for funds.

LAUGHTER all around. Andy blinks at them.

                    BROOKS
          Son, I've had six wardens through
          here during my tenure, and I have
          learned one great immutable truth
          of the universe: ain't one of 'em
          been born whose asshole don't
          pucker up tight as a snare drum
          when you ask for funds.

INT -- MAIN BUILDING HALLWAY -- DAY (1949)

DOLLYING Norton and Andy up the hall:

                    NORTON
          Not a dime. My budget's stretched
          thin as it is.

                    ANDY
          I see. Perhaps I could write to the
          State Senate and request funds
          directly from them.

                    NORTON
          Far as them Republican boys in
          Augusta are concerned, there's only
          three ways to spend the taxpayer's
          hard-earned when it come to
          prisons. More walls. More bars.
          More guards.

                    ANDY
          Still, I'd like to try, with your
          permission. I'll send a letter a
          week. They can't ignore me forever.

                    NORTON
          They sure can, but you write your
          letters if it makes you happy. I'll
          even mail 'em for you, how's that?
                                                        53.


INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1949)

Andy is on his bunk, writing a letter.

                    RED (V.O.)
          So Andy started writing a letter a
          week, just like he said.

INT -- GUARD DESK/NORTON'S OUTER OFFICE -- DAY (1949)

Andy pops his head in. The GUARD shakes his head.

                    RED (V.O.)
          And just like Norton said, Andy got
          no answers. But still he kept on.

INT -- PRISON LIBRARY/ANDY'S OFFICE -- DAY (1950)

Andy is doing taxes. Mert Entwhistle is seated across from
him. Other off-duty guards are waiting their turn.

                     RED (V.O.)
          The following April, Andy did tax
          returns for half the guards at
          Shawshank.

INT -- PRISON LIBRARY -- ONE YEAR LATER (1951)

Tax time again. Even more guards are waiting.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Year after that, he did them all...
          including the warden's.

EXT -- BASEBALL DIAMOND -- DAY (1952)

A BATTER in a "Noresby Marauders" baseball uniform WHACKS
the ball high into left field and races for first.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Year after that, they rescheduled
          the start of the intramural season
          to coincide with tax season...

INT -- PRISON LIBRARY/ANDY'S OFFICE -- DAY (1952)

The Batter sits across from Andy. The line winds out the
door.

                    RED (V.O.)
          The guards on the opposing teams
          all remembered to bring their W-
          2's.
                                                        54.


                    ANDY
          Moresby Prison issued you that gun,
          but you actually had to pay for it?

                    THE BATTER
          Damn right, and the holster too.

                    ANDY
          See, that's all deductible. You get
          to write that off.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Yes sir, Andy was a regular H&R
          Block. In fact, he got so busy at
          tax time, he was allowed a staff.

ANGLE SHIFTS to reveal Red and Brooks doing filing chores.

                    ANDY
          Say Red, could you hand me a stack
          of those 1040s?

                    RED (V.O.)
          Got me out of the wood shop a month
          out of the year, and that was fine
          by me.

INT -- GUARD DESK/NORTON'S OUTER OFFICE -- DAY (1953)

Andy enters and drops a letter on the outgoing stack.

                     RED (V.O.)
          And still he kept sending those
          letters...

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1953)

Dark. Andy's in his bunk, polishing a four-inch length of
quartz. It's a beautifully-crafted chess piece in the shape
of a horse's head, poise and nobility captured in gleaming
stone.

He puts the knight on a chess board by his bed, adding it to
four pieces already there: a king, a queen, and two bishops.
He turns to Rita. Moonlight casts bars across her face.

EXT -- EXERCISE YARD -- DAY (1954)

Floyd runs into the yard, scared and winded. He finds Andy
and Red on the bleachers.

                    FLOYD
          Red? Andy? It's Brooks.
                                                         55.


INT -- PRISON LIBRARY/ANDY'S OFFICE -- DAY (1954)

Floyd rushes in with Andy and Red at his heels. They find
Jigger and Snooze trying to calm Brooks, who has Heywood in
a chokehold and a knife to his throat. Heywood is terrified.

                    JIGGER
          C'mon, Brooksie, why don't you just
          calm the fuck down, okay?

                     BROOKS
          Goddamn miserable puke-eatin' sons
          of whores!

He kicks a table over. Tax files explode through the air.

                    RED
          What the hell's going on?

                    SNOOZE
          You tell me, man. One second he was
          fine, then out came the knife. I
          better get the guards.

                    RED
          No. We'll handle this. Ain't that
          right, Brooks? Just settle down and
          we'll talk about it, okay?

                    BROOKS
          Nothing left to talk about! It's
          all talked out! Nothing left now
          but to cut his fuckin' throat!

                    RED
          Why? What's Heywood done to you?

                    BROOKS
          That's what they want! It's the
          price I gotta pay!

Andy steps forward, rivets Brooks with a gaze. Softly:

                    ANDY
          Brooks, you're not going to hurt
          Heywood, we all know that. Even
          Heywood knows it, right Heywood?

                    HEYWOOD
              (nods, terrified)
          Sure. I know that. Sure.
                                                      56.


                    ANDY
          Why? Ask anyone, they'll tell you.
          Brooks Hatlen is a reasonable man.

                    RED
              (cuing nods all around)
          Yeah, that's right. That's what
          everybody says.

                    ANDY
          You're not fooling anybody, so just
          put the damn knife down and stop
          scaring the shit out of people.

                    BROOKS
          But it's the only way they'll let
          me stay.

Brooks bursts into tears. The storm is over. Heywood
staggers free, gasping for air. Andy takes the knife, passes
it to Red. Brooks dissolves into Andy's arms with great
heaving sobs.

                    ANDY
          Take it easy. You'll be all right.

                    HEYWOOD
          Him? What about me? Crazy old fool!
          Goddamn near slit my throat!

                    RED
          You've had worse from shaving.
          What'd you do to set him off?

                     HEYWOOD
          Nothin'! Just came in to say fare-
          thee-well.
              (off their looks)
          Ain't you heard? His parole came
          through!

Red and Andy exchange a surprised look. Andy wants to
understand. Red just motions to let it be for now. He puts
his arm around Brooks, who sobs inconsolably. Softly:

                    RED
          Ain't that bad, old hoss. Won't be
          long till you're squiring pretty
          young girls on your arm and telling
          'em lies.
                                                57.


EXT -- PRISON YARD BLEACHERS -- DUSK (1954)

                    ANDY
          I just don't understand what
          happened in there, that's all.

                    HEYWOOD
          Old man's crazy as a rat in a tin
          shithouse, is what.

                    RED
          Heywood, enough. Ain't nothing
          wrong with Brooksie. He's just
          institutionalized, that's all.

                    HEYWOOD
          Institutionalized, my ass.

                    RED
          Man's been here fifty years. This
          place is all he knows. In here,
          he's an important man, an educated
          man. A librarian. Out there, he's
          nothing but a used-up old con with
          arthritis in both hands. Couldn't
          even get a library card if he
          applied. You see what I'm saying?

                    FLOYD
          Red, I do believe you're talking
          out of your ass.

                    RED
          Believe what you want. These walls
          are funny. First you hate 'em, then
          you get used to 'em. After long
          enough, you get so you depend on
          'em. That's "institutionalized."

                    JIGGER
          Shit. I could never get that way.

                    ERNIE
              (softly)
          Say that when you been inside as
          long as Brooks has.

                    RED
          Goddamn right. They send you here
          for life, and that's just what they
          take. Part that counts, anyway.
                                                        58.


EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- DAWN (1954)

The sun rises over gray stone.

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- DAWN (1954)

ANGLE ON RITA POSTER. Sexy as ever. The rising sun sends
fingers of rosy light creeping across her face.

INT -- LIBRARY -- DAWN (1954)

Brooks stands on a chair, poised at the bars of a window,
cradling Jake in his hands.

                    BROOKS
          I can't take care of you no more.
          You go on now. You're free.

He tosses Jake through the bars. The crow flaps away.

EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- MAIN GATE -- DAY (1954)

TWO SHORT SIREN BLASTS herald the opening of the gate. It
swings hugely open, revealing Brooks standing in his cheap
suit, carrying a cheap bag, wearing a cheap hat.

Brooks walks out, tears streaming down his face. He looks
back. Red, Andy, and others stand at the inner fence, seeing
him off. The massive gate closes, wiping them from view.

INT -- BUS -- DAY (1954)

Brooks is riding the bus, clutching the seat before him,
gripped by terror of speed and motion.

                    BROOKS (V.O.)
          Dear Fellas. I can't believe how
          fast things move on the outside.

EXT -- STREET -- PORTLAND, MAINE -- DAY (1954)

Brooks looks like a kid trying to cross the street without
his parents. People and traffic a blur.

                    BROOKS (V.O.)
          I saw an automobile once when I was
          young. Now they're everywhere.

EXT -- BREWSTER HOTEL -- DAY (1954)

Brooks comes trudging up the sidewalk. He glances up as a
prop-driven airliner streaks in low overhead.
                                                        59.


                    BROOKS (V.O.)
          The world went and got itself in a
          big damn hurry.

He arrives at the Brewster. It ain't much to look at.

INT -- BREWSTER HOTEL -- DAY (1954)

A WOMAN leads Brooks up the stairs toward the top floor. He
has trouble climbing so many stairs.

                    WOMAN
          No music in your room after eight
          p.m. No guests after nine. No
          cooking except on the hotplate...

                    BROOKS (V.O.)
          People even talk faster. And
          louder.

INT -- BROOKS' ROOM -- DAY (1954)

Brooks enters. The room is small, old, dingy. Heavy wooden
beams cross the ceiling. An arched window affords a view of
Congress Street. Traffic noise drifts in. Brooks sets his
bag down. He doesn't quite know what to do. He just stands
there, like a man waiting for a bus.

                     BROOKS (V.O.)
          The parole board got me into this
          halfway house called the Brewster,
          and a job bagging groceries at the
          Foodway...

INT -- FOODWAY MARKET -- DAY (1954)

Loud. Jangling with PEOPLE and NOISE. Brooks is bagging
groceries. Registers are humming, kids are shrieking.

                    WOMAN
          Make sure he double-bags. Last time
          your man didn't double-bag and the
          bottom near came out.

                    MANAGER
          You double-bag like the lady says,
          understand?

                    BROOKS
          Yes sir, double-bag, surely will.

                    BROOKS (V.O.)
          It's hard work. I try to keep up,
          but my hands hurt most of the time.
                    (MORE)
                                                      60.

                    BROOKS (V.O.) (CONT'D)
          I don't think the store manager
          likes me very much.

EXT -- PARK -- DAY (1954)

Brooks sits alone on a bench, feeding pigeons.

                    BROOKS (V.O.)
          Sometimes after work I go to the
          park and feed the birds. I keep
          thinking Jake might show up and say
          hello, but he never does. I hope
          wherever he is, he's doing okay and
          making new friends.

INT -- BROOKS' ROOM -- NIGHT (1954)

Dark. Traffic outside. Brooks wakes up. Disoriented. Afraid.
Somewhere in the night, a LOUD ARGUMENT is taking place.

                    BROOKS (V.O.)
          I have trouble sleeping at night.
          The bed is too big. I have bad
          dreams, like I'm falling. I wake up
          scared. Sometimes it takes me a
          while to remember where I am.

INT -- FOODWAY -- DAY (1954)

                    BROOKS (V.O.)
          Maybe I should get me a gun and rob
          the Foodway, so they'd send me
          home. I could shoot the manager
          while I was at it, sort of like a
          bonus.

INT -- BROOKS' ROOM -- DAY (1954)

Brooks is packing his worldly possessions into the carry
bag. Undershirts, socks, etc.

                    BROOKS (V.O.)
          But I guess I'm too old for that
          sort of nonsense anymore.

INT -- BROOKS' ROOM -- SHORTLY LATER (1954)

Brooks is dressed in his suit. He finishes knotting his tie,
puts his hat on his head. The letter lies on the desk,
stampe3 and ready for mailing. His bag is by the door.
                                                      61.


                    BROOKS (V.O.)
          I don't like it here. I'm tired of
          being afraid all the time. I've
          decided not to stay.

He takes one last look around. Only one thing left to do. He
steps to a wooden chair in the center of the room, pulls out
s pocketknife, and glances up at the ceiling beam.

He steps up onto the chair. It wobbles queasily. Now facing
the beam, he carves a message into the wood: "Brooks Hatlen
was here." He smiles with a sort of inner peace.

                    BROOKS (V.O.)
          I doubt they'll kick up any fuss.
          Not for an old crook like me.

TIGHT ON CHAIR

His weight shifts on the wobbly chair -- and it goes out
from under him. His feet remain where they are, kicking
feebly in mid-air. His hat falls to the floor.

ANGLE WIDENS. Brooks has hanged himself. He swings gently,
facing the open window. Traffic noise floats up from below.

EXT -- EXERCISE YARD -- SHAWSHANK -- DAY (1954)

Andy reads the letter to Red and the others:

                    ANDY
          P.S. Tell Heywood I'm sorry I put a
          knife to his throat. No hard
          feelings.

A long silence. Andy folds the letter, puts it away. Softly:

                    RED
          He should'a died in here, goddamn
          it.

INT -- PRISON LIBRARY -- DAY (1954)

Andy is sorting books on the cart. He replaces a stack on
the shelf -- and pauses, noticing a line of ants crawling up
the wood. He glances up. The ants disappear over the top. He
pulls a chair over and stands on it, peers cautiously over.

                    ANDY
          Red!

Red steps in with an armload of files. Andy gingerly reaches
in, grabs a black feathered wing, and pulls out a dead crow.
                                                       62.


                    RED
              (softly)
          Is that Jake?

INT -- WOOD SHOP -- DAY (1954)

Red is making something at his bench, sanding and planing.

                    RED (V.O.)
          It never would have occurred to us,
          if not for Andy. It was his idea.
          We all agreed it was the right
          thing to do...

EXT -- FIELDS -- DAY (1954)

Low hilly terrain all around. A HUNDRED CONS are at work in
the fields. GUARDS patrol with carbines, keeping a sharp
eye. We find Andy, Red, and the boys working with picks and
shovels. They glance over to the pickup truck. Hadley's
chewing the fat with Mert and Youngblood. A WHISTLE BLOWS.

                    GUARD
          Water break! Five minutes!

The work stops. Cons head for the pickup truck, where water
is dispensed with dipper and pail. Red and the boys look to
Andy. Andy nods. Now's the time. The group moves off through
the confusion, using it as cover. They head up the slope of
a nearby hill and quickly decide on a suitable spot. The
guards haven't noticed.

Jigger and Floyd start swinging picks into the soft earth,
quickly ripping out a hole. Red reaches into his jacket and
pulls out a beautiful wooden box, carefully stained and
varnished. He shows it around to nods of approval.

                    ANDY
          That's real pretty, Red. Nice work.

                    HEYWOOD
          Shovel man in. Watch the dirt.

Heywood jumps in and starts spading out the hole.

BY THE TRUCK

Youngblood glances up and sees the men on the slope.

                    YOUNGBLOOD
          What the fuck.
                                                        63.


                    HADLEY
              (follows his gaze)
          HEY.' YOU MEN UP THERE.' GET YOUR
          ASSES OFF THAT SLOPE!
              (works his rifle bolt)
          YOU HAPPY ASSHOLES GONE DEAF? YOU
          GOT FIVE SECONDS 'FORE I SHOOT
          SOMEBODY!

Suddenly, other cons start breaking away in groups, dozens
of them heading toward the slope. The guards look around.

                    HADLEY (CONT’D)
          What am I, talkin' to myself?

ON THE SLOPE

Andy pulls a towel-wrapped bundle from his jacket and
unfolds it. Jake. Andy lays him in the box, followed by
Brook's letter. Red places the casket in the hole. A moment
of silence. Andy gives Red with an encouraging nod.

                    RED
          Lord. Brooks was a sinner. Jake was
          just a crow. Neither was much to
          look at. Both got
          institutionalized. See what you can
          do for 'em. Amen.

Muttered "amens" all around. The boys shovel dirt onto the
small grave and tamp it down.

INT -- SHAWSHANK CORRIDORS -- DAY (1955)

RAPID DOLLY with Hadley. He's striding, pissed-off, a man on
e mission. He straight-arms a door and emerges onto --

EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON WALL -- DAY (1955)

-- the wall overlooking the exercise yard. He leans on the
railing, scans the yard, sees Andy chatting with Red.

                    HADLEY
          Dufresne! What the fuck did you do?
              (Andy looks up)
          Your ass, warden's office, now!

Andy shoots a worried look at Red, then heads off.

INT -- GUARD DESK/WARDEN'S OUTER OFFICE -- DAY (1955)

Dozens of parcel boxes litter the floor. WILEY, the duty
guard, picks through them. Hadley enters, trailed by Andy.
                                                        64.


                    ANDY
          What is all this?

                    HADLEY
          You tell me, fuck-stick! They're
          addressed to you, every damn one!

Wiley thrusts an envelope at Andy. Andy just stares at it.

                    WILEY
          Well, take it.

Andy takes the envelope, pulls out a letter, reads:

                    ANDY
          Dear Mr. Dufresne. In response to
          your repeated inquiries, the State
          Senate has allocated the enclosed
          funds for your library project... "
              (stunned, examines check)
          This is two hundred dollars.

Wiley grins. Hadley glares at him. The grin vanishes.

                    ANDY (CONT’D)
          In addition, the Library District
          has generously responded with a
          charitable donation of used books
          and sundries. We trust this will
          fill your needs. We now consider
          the matter closed. Please stop
          sending us letters. Yours truly,
          the State Comptroller's Office.

Andy gazes around at the boxes. The riches of the world lay
at his feet. His eyes mist with emotion at the sight.

                    HADLEY
          I want all this cleared out before
          the warden gets back, I shit you
          not.

Hadley exits. Andy touches the boxes like a love-struck man
touching a beautiful woman. Wiley grins.

                    WILEY
          Good for you, Andy.

                    ANDY
          Only took six years.
              (beat)
          From now on, I send two letters a
          week instead of one.
                                                      65.


                    WILEY
              (laughs, shakes his head)
          I believe you're crazy enough. You
          better get this stuff downstairs
          like the Captain said. I'm gonna go
          pinch a loaf. When I get back, this
          is all gone, right?

Andy nods. Wiley disappears into the toilet, Jughead Comix
in hand. Alone now, Andy starts going through the boxes like
a starving man exploring packages of food. He doesn't know
where to turn first. He gets giddy, ripping boxes open and
pulling out books, touching them, smelling them.

He rips open another box. This one contains an old
phonograph player, industrial gray and green, the words
"Portland Public School District" stenciled on the side. The
box also contains stacks and stacks of used record albums.

Andy reverently slips a stack from the box and starts
flipping through them. Used Nat King Coles, Bing Crosbys,
etc. He comes across a certain album -- Mozart's "Le Nozze
de Figaro." He pulls it from the stack, gazing upon it as a
man transfixed. It is a thing of beauty. It is the Grail.

INT -- BATHROOM -- DAY (1955)

Wiley sits in one of the stalls, Jughead comic on his knees.

INT -- GUARD STATION/OUTER OFFICE -- DAY (1955)

Andy wrestles the phonograph player onto the guards' desk,
sweeping things onto the floor in his haste. He plugs the
machine in. A red light warms up. The platter starts
spinning.

He slides the Mozart album from its sleeve, lays it on the
platter, and lowers the tone arm to his favorite cut. The
needle HISSES in the groove...and the MUSIC begins, lilting
and gorgeous. Andy sinks into Wiley's chair, overcome by its
beauty. It is "Deutino: Che soave zeffiretto," a duet sung
by

Susanna and the Contessa.

INT -- BATHROOM -- DAY (1955)

Wiley pauses reading, puzzled. He thinks he hears music.

                    WILEY
          Andy? You hear that?
                                                        66.


INT -- GUARD STATION/OUTER OFFICE -- DAY (1955)

Andy shoots a look at the bathroom...and smiles. Go for
broke. He lunges to his feet and barricades the front door,
then the bathroom. He returns to the desk and positions the
P.A. microphone. He works up his courage, then flicks all
the toggles to "on." A SQUEAL OF FEEDBACK echoes briefly...

INT/EXT -- VARIOUS P.A. SPEAKERS -- DAY (1955)

...and the Mozart is suddenly broadcast all over the prison.

INT -- BATHROOM -- DAY (1955)

Wiley lunges to his feet, pants tangling around his ankles.

INT/EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- VARIOUS LOCATIONS -- DAY
(1955)

Cons all over the prison stop whatever they're doing,
freezing in mid-step to listen, gazing up at the speakers.

THE STAMPING MACHINES IN THE PLATE SHOP ARE SHUT DOWN...

THE LAUNDRY LINE GOES SILENT, GRINDING TO A HALT...

THE WOOD SHOP MACHINES ARE TURNED OFF, BUZZING TO A STOP...

THE MOTOR POOL...THE KITCHEN...THE LOADING DOCK...THE
EXERCISE

thru yard...the numbing routine of prison life itself...all
grinds thru

TO A STUTTERING HALT. NOBODY MOVES, NOBODY SPEAKS. EVERYBODY

just stands in place, listening to the MUSIC, hypnotized.

INT -- GUARD STATION -- DAY (1955)

Andy is reclined in the chair, transported, arms fluidly
conducting the music. Ecstasy and rapture. Shawshank no
longer exists. It has been banished from the mind of men.

EXT -- EXERCISE YARD -- DAY (1955)

CAMERA TRACKS along groups of men, all riveted.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I have no idea to this day what
          them two Italian ladies were
          singin' about. Truth is, I don't
          want to know. Some things are best
          left unsaid.
                    (MORE)
                                                      67.

                    RED (V.O.) (CONT'D)
          I like to think they were singin'
          about something so beautiful it
          can't be expressed in words, and
          makes your heart ache because of
          it.

CAMERA brings us to Red.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I tell you, those voices soared.
          Higher and farther than anybody in
          a gray place dares to dream. It was
          like some beautiful bird flapped
          into our drab little cage and made
          these walls dissolve away...and for
          the briefest of moments -- every
          last man at Shawshank felt free.

INT -- PRISON CORRIDOR -- DAY (1955)

FAST DOLLY with Norton striding up the hallway with Hadley.

                    RED (V.O.)
          It pissed the warden off something
          terrible.

INT -- GUARD STATION/OUTER OFFICE -- DAY (1955)

Norton and Hadley break the door in. Andy looks up with a
sublime smile. We hear Wiley POUNDING on the bathroom door:

                    WILEY (O.S.)
          LET ME OUUUUT!

INT -- SOLITARY WING -- DAY (1955)

LOW ANGLE SLOW PUSH IN on the massive, rust-streaked steel
door. God, this is a terrible place to be.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Andy got two weeks in the hole for
          that little stunt.

INT -- SOLITARY CONFINEMENT -- DAY (1955)

Andy doesn't seem to mind. His arms sweep to the music still
playing in his head. We hear a FAINT ECHO of the soaring
duet.

INT -- MESS HALL -- DAY (1955)

                    HEYWOOD
          Couldn't play somethin' good, huh?
          Hank Williams?
                                      68.


          ANDY
They broke the door down before I
could take requests.

          FLOYD
Was it worth two weeks in the hole?

          ANDY
Easiest time I ever did.

          HEYWOOD
Shit. No such thing as easy time in
the hole. A week seems like a year.

          ANDY
I had Mr. Mozart to keep me
company. Hardly felt the time at
all.

          RED
Oh, they let you tote that record
player down there, huh? I could'a
swore they confiscated that stuff.

           ANDY
    (taps his heart, his
     head)
The music was here...and here.
That's the one thing they can't
confiscate, not ever. That's the
beauty of it. Haven't you ever felt
that way about music, Red?

          RED
Played a mean harmonica as a
younger man. Lost my taste for it.
Didn't make much sense on the
inside.

          ANDY
Here's where it makes most sense.
We need it so we don't forget.

          RED
Forget?

          ANDY
That there are things in this world
not carved out of gray stone. That
there's a small place inside of us
they can never lock away, and that
place is called hope.
                                                        69.


                    RED
          Hope is a dangerous thing. Drive a
          man insane. It's got no place here.
          Better get used to the idea.

                    ANDY
              (softly)
          Like Brooks did?

                                             FADE TO BLACK

AN IRON-BARRED DOOR

slides open with an enormous CLANG. A stark room beyond.
CAMERA PUSHES through. SEVEN HUMORLESS MEN sit at a long

table. An empty chair faces them. We are again in:

INT -- SHAWSHANK HEARINGS ROOM -- DAY (1957)

Red enters, ten years older than when we first saw him at a
parole hearing. He removes his cap and sits.

MAN #l It says here you've served thirty years of a life
sentence.

                    MAN #2
          You feel you've been rehabilitated?

                    RED
          Yes sir, without a doubt. I can say
          I'm a changed man. No danger to
          society, that's the God's honest
          truth. Absolutely rehabilitated.

CLOSEUP -- PAROLE FORM

A big rubber stamp slams down: "REJECTED."

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DUSK (1957)

Red emerges into fading daylight. Andy's waiting for him.

                    RED
          Same old, same old. Thirty years.
          Jesus. When you say it like that...

                    ANDY
          You wonder where it went. I wonder
          where ten years went.

Red nods, solemn. They settle in on the bleachers. Andy
pulls a small box from his sweater, hands it to Red.
                                                         70.


                    ANDY (CONT’D)
          Anniversary gift. Open it.

Red does. Inside the box, on a thin layer of cotton, is a
shiny new harmonica, bright aluminum and circus-red.

                    ANDY (CONT’D)
          Had to go through one of your
          competitors. Hope you don't mind.
          Wanted it to be a surprise.

                    RED
          It's very pretty, Andy. Thank you.

                    ANDY
          You gonna play something?

                    --
          Red considers it, shakes his head.
          Softly:

                       RED
          Not today.

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE/ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1957)

Men line the tiers as the evening count is completed. The
convicts step into their cells. The master switch is thrown
and all the doors slam shut -- KA-THUMP! Andy finds a
cardboard tube on his bunk. The note reads: "A new girl for
your 10 year anniversary. From your pal. Red."

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- LATER (1957)

Marilyn Monroe's face fills the screen. SLOW PULL BACK
reveals the new poster: the famous shot from "The Seven Year
Itch," on the subway grate with skirt billowing up. Andy
sits gazing at her as lights-out commences...

INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1957)

...and we find Red gazing blankly as darkness takes the
cellblock. Adding up the months, weeks, days...

He regards the harmonica like a man confronted with a
Martian artifact. He considers trying it out -- even holds
it briefly to his lips, almost embarrassed -- but puts it
back in its box untested. And there the harmonica will
stay...

                                              FADE TO BLACK

WE HOLD IN BLACKNESS as THUMPING SOUNDS grow louder...
                                                         71.


                    RED (V.O.)
          Andy was as good as his word. He
          kept writing to the State Senate.
          Two letters a week instead of one.

...and the BLACKNESS disintegrates as a wall tumbles before
our eyes, revealing a WORK CREW with picks and
sledgehammers, faces obscured outlaw-style with kerchiefs
against the dust. Behind them are GUARDS overseeing the
work.

Andy yanks his kerchief down, grinning in exhilaration. Red
and the others follow suit. They step through the hole in
the wall, exploring what used to be a sealed-off storage
room.

                    RED (V.O.)
          In 1959, the folks up Augusta way
          finally clued in to the fact they
          couldn't buy him off with just a
          dollar check. Appropriations
          Committee voted an annual payment
          of dollars, just to shut him up.

INT -- PRISON LIBRARY -- DAY (1960)

TRACKING the construction. Walls have been knocked down. Men
are painting, plastering, hammering. Lots of shelves going
up. Red is head carpenter. We find him discussing plans with
Andy.

                     RED (V.O.)
          Those checks came once a year like
          clockwork.

INT -- PRISON LIBRARY -- DAY (1960)

Red and the boys are opening boxes, pulling out books.

                    RED (V.O.)
          You'd be amazed how far Andy could
          stretch it. He made deals with book
          clubs, charity groups...he bought
          remaindered books by the pound...

                    HEYWOOD
          Treasure Island. Robert Louis...

                    ANDY
              (jotting)
          ...Stevenson. Next?
                                                      72.


                    RED
          I got here an auto repair manual,
          and a book on soap carving.

                    ANDY
          Trade skills and hobbies, those go
          under educational. Stack right
          behind you.

                    HEYWOOD
          The Count of Monte Crisco...

                    FLOYD
          Cristo, you dumbshit.

                    HEYWOOD
          ...by Alexandree Dumb-ass.

                    ANDY
          Dumas. You boys'll like that one.
          It's about a prison break.

Floyd tries to take the book. Heywood yanks it back. I saw
it first. Red shoots Andy a look.

                    RED
          Maybe that should go under
          educational too.

INT -- WOOD SHOP -- DAY (1961)

Red is making a sign, carefully routing letters into a long
plank of wood. It turns out to be --

INT -- PRISON LIBRARY -- DAY (1963)

-- the varnished wood sign over the archway: "Brooks Hatlen
Memorial Library." TILT DOWN to reveal the library in all
its completed glory: shelves lined with books, tables and
chairs, even a few potted plants. Heywood is wearing
headphones, listening to Hank Williams on the record player.

                    RED (V.O.)
          By the year Kennedy was shot, Andy
          had transformed a broom closet
          smelling of turpentine into the
          best prison library in New England.

EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- DAY (1963)

FLASHBULBS POP as Norton addresses MEMBERS OF THE PRESS:
                                                      73.


                    RED (V.O.)
          That was also the year Warden
          Norton instituted his famous
          "Inside-Out" program. You may
          remember reading about it. It made
          all the papers and got his picture
          in LIFE magazine.

                    NORTON
          ...a genuine, progressive advance
          in corrections and rehabilitation.
          Our inmates, properly supervised,
          will be put to work outside these
          walls performing all manner of
          public service. Cutting pulpwood,
          repairing bridges and causeways,
          digging storm drains...

ANGLE TO Red and the boys listening from behind the fence.

                    NORTON (CONT’D)
          These men can learn the value of an
          honest day's labor while providing
          a valuable service to the community
          -- and at a bare minimum of expense
          to Mr. and Mrs. John Q. Taxpayer!

                    HEYWOOD
          Sounds like road-gangin', you ask
          me.

                    RED
          Nobody asked you.

EXT -- HIGHWAY CONSTRUCTION SITE -- DAY (1963)

A ROAD-GANG is grading a culvert with picks. There's dust
and the smell of sweat in the air. GUARDS patrol with sniper
rifles, A pushy WOMAN REPORTER in an ugly hat bustles up the
grade, trailed by a PHOTOGRAPHER.

                    WOMAN REPORTER
          You there! You men! We're gonna
          take your picture now!

                    HEYWOOD
          Give us a break, lady.

                    WOMAN REPORTER
          Don't you know who I am? I'm from
          LIFE magazine! I was told I'd get
          some co-operation out here! You
          want me to report you to your
          warden? Is that what you want?
                                                         74.


                     HEYWOOD
              (sighs)
          No, ma'am.

                    WOMAN REPORTER
          That's more like it! Now I want you
          all in a row with big bright smiles
          on your faces! Grab hold of your
          tools and show 'em to me!

She turns, motioning her photographer up the grade. Heywood
glances around at the other men.

                    HEYWOOD
          You heard the lady.

Heywood unzips his pants, reaches inside. The others do
likewise. The woman turns back and is greeted by the sight
of a dozen men displaying their penises and smiling
brightly. Her legs go wobbly and she sits heavily down on
the dirt grade.

                    HEYWOOD (CONT’D)
          C'mon! We're showin' our tools and
          grinnin' like fools! Take the damn
          picture!

INT -- SOLITARY CONFINZMENT -- NIGHT (1963)

Heywood sits alone in the dark. He sighs.

                    RED (V.O.)
          None of the inmates were invited to
          express their views...

EXT -- WOODED FIELDS -- DAY (1965)

A ROAD-GANG is pulling stumps, bogged down in mud.

                    RED (V.O.)
          'Course, Norton failed to mention
          to the press that "bare minimum of
          expense" is a fairly loose term.
          There are a hundred different ways
          to skim off the top. Men,
          materials, you name it. And, oh my
          Lord, how the money rolled in...

Norton strolls into view with NED GRIMES at his heels.

                    NED
          This keeps up, you're gonna put me
          out of business!
                    (MORE)
                                                      75.

                    NED (CONT'D)
          With this pool of slave labor you
          got, you can underbid any
          contractor in town.

                    NORTON
          Ned, we're providing a valuable
          community service.

                    NED
          That's fine for the papers, but I
          got a family to feed. The State
          don't pay my salary. Sam, we go
          back a long way. I need this new
          highway contract. I don't get it, I
          go under. That's a fact.
              (hands him a box)
          Now you just have some'a this fine
          pie my missus baked specially for
          you, and you think about that.

Norton opens the box. Alongside the pie is an envelope. He
runs his thumb across the thick stack of cash it contains.

IN THE BACKGROUND, a winch cable SNAPS and whips through the
air, damn near severing a man's leg. He goes down, screaming
in mud and blood, pinned by a fallen tree stump. Men rush
over to help him. Norton barely takes notice.

                    NORTON
          Ned, I wouldn't worry too much over
          this contract. Seems to me I've
          already got my boys committed
          elsewhere. You be sure and thank
          Maisie for this fine pie.

INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- NIGHT (1965)

ANGLE on Maisie's pie. Several pieces gone.

                    RED (V.O.)
          And behind every shady deal, behind
          every dollar earned...

TILT UP to Andy at the desk, munching thoughtfully as he
totals up figures on an adding machine.

                    RED (V.O.)
          ...there was Andy, keeping the
          books.

Andy finishes preparing two bank deposits. Norton hovers
near the desk, keeping a watchful eye.
                                                      76.


                    ANDY
          Two deposits, Casco Bank and New
          England First. Night drop, like
          always.

Norton pockets the envelopes. Andy crosses to the wall safe
and shoves the ledger and sundry files inside. Norton locks
the safe, swings his wife's framed sampler back into place.
He cocks his thumb at some laundry and two suits in the
corner.

                    NORTON
          Get my stuff down t'laundry. Two
          suits for dry-clean and a bag of
          whatnot. Tell 'em if they over-
          starch my shirts again, they're
          gonna hear about it from me.
              (adjusts his tie)
          How do I look?

                       ANDY
          Very nice.

                    NORTON
          Big charity to-do up Portland way.
          Governor's gonna be there.
              (indicates pie)
          Want the rest of that? Woman can't
          bake worth shit.

INT -- PRISON CORRIDOR -- NIGHT (1965)

Andy trudges down the corridor with Norton's laundry, the
pie box under his arm.

INT -- LIBRARY -- DAY (1965)

TILT UP FROM PIE to find Red munching away as he helps Andy
sort books on the shelves.

                    RED
          Got his fingers in a lot of pies,
          from what I hear.

                    ANDY
          What you hear isn't half of it.
          He's got scams you haven't dreamed
          of. Kickbacks on his kickbacks.
          There's a river of dirty money
          flowing through this place.
                                       77.


          RED
Money like that can be a problem.
Sooner or later you gotta explain
where it came from.

          ANDY
That's where I come in. I channel
it, funnel it, filter it...stocks,
securities, tax free municipals...
I send that money out into the big
world. And when it comes back...

          RED
It's clean as a virgin's whistle?

          ANDY
Cleaner. By the time Norton
retires, I will have made him a
millionaire.

          RED
Jesus. They ever catch on, he's
gonna wind up wearing a number
himself.

           ANDY
    (smiles)
I thought you had more faith in me
than that.

          RED
I'm sure you're good, but all that
paper leaves a trail. Anybody gets
too curious -- FBI, IRS, whatever --
that trail's gonna lead to
somebody.

          ANDY
Sure it will. But not to me, and
certainly not to the warden.

            RED
Who then?

          ANDY
Peter Stevens.

            RED
Who?

          ANDY
The silent, silent partner. He's
the guilty one, your Honor. The man
with the bank accounts.
          (MORE)
                                                78.

                    ANDY (CONT'D)
          That's where the filtering process
          starts. They trace it back, all
          they're gonna find is him.

                    RED
          Yeah, okay, but who the hell is he?

                    ANDY
          A phantom. An apparition. Second
          cousin to Harvey the Rabbit.
              (off Red's look)
          I conjured him out of thin air. He
          doesn't exist...except on paper.

                    RED
          You can't just make a person up.

                    ANDY
          Sure you can, if you know how the
          system works, and where the cracks
          are. It's amazing what you can
          accomplish by mail. Mr. Stevens has
          a birth certificate, social
          security card, driver's license.
          They ever track those accounts,
          they'll wind up chasing a figment
          of my imagination.

                    RED
          Jesus. Did I say you were good?
          You're Rembrandt.

                    ANDY
          It's funny. On the outside, I was
          an honest man. Straight as an
          arrow. I had to come to prison to
          be a crook.

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DUSK (1965)

                    RED
          Does it ever bother you?

                    ANDY
          I don't run the scams, Red, I just
          process the profits. That's a fine
          line, maybe. But I've also built
          that library, and used it to help a
          dozen guys get their high school
          diplomas. Why do you think the
          warden lets me do all that?
                                                      79.


                    RED
          To keep you happy and doing the
          laundry. Money instead of sheets.

                    ANDY
          I work cheap. That's the trade-off.

TWO SIREN BLASTS draw their attention to the main gate. It
swings open, revealing a prison bus waiting outside.

INT -- PRISON BUS -- DUSK (1965)

Among those on board is TOMMY WILLIAMS, a damn good-looking
kid in his mid-20's. The bus RUMBLES through the gate.

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DUSK (1965)

The new fish disembark, chained together single-file. The
old- timers holler and shake the fence. A deafening
gauntlet.

INT -- CELLBLOCK EIGHT -- NIGHT (1965)

Tommy and the others are marched in naked and shivering,
covered with delousing powder, greeted by TAUNTS and JEERS.

INT -- TOMMY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1965)

The bars slam with a STEEL CLANG. Tommy and his new CELLMATE
take in their new surroundings.

                    TOMMY
          Well. Ain't this for shit?

INT -- PRISON CORRIDOR -- DAY (1965)

DOLLYING Tommy as he struts along, combing his ducktail,
cigarette behind his ear. (We definitely need The Coasters
or Del Vikings on the soundtrack here. Maybe Jerry Lee
Lewis.)

                    RED (V.O.)
          Tommy Williams came to Shawshank in
          on a two year stretch for B&E. Cops
          caught him sneakin' TV sets out the
          back door of a JC Penney.

INT -- WOOD SHOP -- DAY (1965)

A SHRIEKING BUZZSAW slices ten-foot lengths of wood. Red
runs the machine while some other OLD-TIMERS feed the wood.
                                                         80.


                     RED (V.O.)
          Young punk, Mr. Rock n' Roll, cocky
          as hell...

Tommy is hauling the cut wood off the conveyor and stacking
it, It's a ball-busting job, but the kid's a blur.

                    TOMMY
              (slapping his gloves)
          C'mon there, old boys! Movin' like
          molasses! Makin' me look bad!

The old guys just grin and shake their heads.

                    RED (V.O.)
          We liked him immediately.

INT -- MESS HALL -- DAY (1965)

Tommy regales the old boys with his exploits:

                    TOMMY
          ...so I'm backin' out the door,
          right? Had the TV like this...
              (mimes his grip)
          Big ol' thing. Couldn't see shit.
          Suddenly, here's this voice: Freeze
          kid! Hands in the air! Well I just
          stand there holdin' on to that TV,
          so the voice says: "You hear what I
          said, boy?" And I say, Yes sir, I
          sure did! But if I drop this
          fuckin' thing, you got me on
          destruction of property too!

The whole table falls about laughing.

INT -- LIBRARY -- DAY (1965)

Poker game in progress. Tommy, Andy, Red and the boys.

                    HEYWOOD
          You did a stretch in Cashman too?

                    TOMMY
          Yeah. That was an easy ride, let me
          tell you. Work programs, weekend
          furloughs. Not like here.

                    SNOOZE
          Sounds like you done time all over
          New England.
                                                        81.


                    TOMNY
          Been in and out since I was 13.
          Name the place, chances are I been
          there.

                    ANDY
          Perhaps it's time you considered a
          new profession.
              (the game stalls)
          What I mean is, you don't seem to
          be a very good thief. Maybe you
          should try something else.

                    TOMMY
          What the hell you know about it,
          Capone? What are you in for?

                    ANDY
              (wry glance to Red)
          Everyone's innocent in here. Don't
          you know that?

The tension breaks. Everyone laughs.

INT -- VISITOR'S ROOM -- DAY (1965)

CAMERA TRAVELS the room. Chaotic. CONS are waiting their
turn or talking to visitors through a thick plexi shield.

                    RED (V.O.)
          As it turns out, Tommy had himself
          a young wife and new baby girl...

Tommy's at the end of the row, phone to his ear. Other side
of the glass is BETH, near tears, fussing with a BABY on her
lap.

                    BETH
          ...said we can stay with them, but
          Joey's gettin' out of the service
          next month, and they barely got
          enough room as it is. Plus they got
          Poppa workin' double shifts and the
          baby cries half the night. I just
          don't know where we're gonna go...

PUSH IN on Tommy's face as he listens.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Maybe it was the thought of them on

the streets...or his child growing up not knowing her
daddy...
                                                      82.


INT -- LIBRARY -- DAY (1965)

Tommy enters, the strut gone from his step. A little scared.
He finds Andy filing library cards.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Whatever it was, something lit a
          fire under that boy's ass.

                    TOMMY
          I'm thinkin' maybe I should try for
          high school equivalency. Hear you
          helped some fellas with that.

                    ANDY
          I don't waste time on losers,
          Tommy.

                    TOMNY
              (tight)
          I ain't no goddamn loser.

                    ANDY
          That's a good start. If we do this,
          we do it all the way. One hundred
          percent. Nothing half-assed.

Tommy thinks about it, nods.

                    TOMMY
          Thing is, see...
              (leans in, mutters)
          ...I don't read all that good.

                    ANDY
              (smiles)
          Well. You've come to the right
          place then.

INT -- LIBRARY -- DAY (1965)

We find Andy giving an impassioned reading:

                    ANDY
          ...and the lamplight o'er him
          streaming throws his shadow on the
          floor...and my soul from out that
          shadow that lies floating on the
          floor, shall be lifted nevermore! "

Andy slaps the book shut, immensely pleased with himself.
                                                        83.


                    TOMMY
          So this raven just sits there and
          won't go away?

                    ANDY
          That's right.

                    TOMMY
              (beat)
          Why don't that fella get hisself a
          and dust the fucker?

INT -- LIBRARY -- DAY (1965)

Tommy tries to read as Andy looks on:

                    TOMMY
          The cat sh--The cat shh...
              (glances up)
          The cat shat on the welcome mat?

Andy shakes his head. Not exactly.

INT -- LIBRARY -- DAY (1965)

Andy chalks the alphabet on a blackboard.

                    RED (V.O.)
          So Andy took Tommy under his wing.
          Started walking him through his
          ABCs...

INT -- MESS HALL -- DAY (1965)

TRACK the table to Tommy and Andy. Discussing a book.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Tommy took to it pretty well, too.
          Boy found brains he never knew he
          had.

EXT -- EXERCISE YARD BLEACHERS -- DAY (1965)

                    TOMNY
          The cat sh--shh--shimmied up the
          tree and crept st--stel--stealthily
          out on the limb...

INT -- WOOD SHOP -- DAY (1965)

Tommy intent on a paperback, mouthing the words. Behind him,
wood is piling up on the conveyor belt.
                                                      84.


                    RED (V.O.)
          After a while, you couldn't pry
          those books out of hands.

                    RED
          Ass in gear, son! You're putting us
          behind!

Tommy shoves the book in his back pocket and hurries over.

INT -- LIBRARY -- DAY (1965)

Tommy writes a sentence on the blackboard. Andy steps in,
shows him how to reconstruct it.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Before long, Andy started him on
          his course requirements. He really
          liked the kid, that was part of it.
          Gave him a thrill to help a
          youngster crawl off the shitheap.
          But that wasn't the only reason...

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1966)

TIGHT ANGLE on chessboard. Most of the pieces complete. PAN
TO Andy lying in his bunk, carefully polishing...

                    RED (V.O.)
          Prison time is slow time. Sometimes
          it feels like stop-time. So you do
          what you can to keep going...

...and we keep going past Andy in a SLOW PAN of the cell.
Sink. Toilet. Books. Outside the window bars, we hear
another TRAIN passing in the night...

                    RED (V.O.)
          Some fellas collect stamps. Others
          build matchstick houses. Andy built
          a library. Now he needed a new
          project. Tommy was it. It was the
          same reason he spent years shaping
          and polishing those rocks. The same
          reason he hung his fantasy girlies
          on the wall...

...STILL PANNING, past a chair, a sweater on a hook...and
finally to the place of honor on the wall...

                    RED (V.O.)
          In prison, a man'll do most
          anything to keep his mind occupied.
                                                      85.


...where the latest poster turns out to be Racquel Welch ins
fur bikini. Gorgeous. "One Million Years, B. C. " SLOW PUSH
IN,

                    RED (V.O.)
          By 1966...right about the time
          Tommy was getting ready to take his
          exams...it was lovely Racquel.

INT -- LIBRARY -- DAY (1966)

Tommy's taking the big test. Andy's monitoring the time.
Deep silence, save for Tommy's pencil-scribbling. A few old-
timers are browsing the shelves, sneaking looks their way.
Tommy tries to ignore them. Concentrate.

Andy clears his throat. Time's up. Tommy puts his pencil
down,

                    ANDY
          Well?

                    TOMMY
          Well. It's for shit.
              (gets up in disgust)
          Wasted a whole fuckin' year of my
          time with this bullshit!

                    ANDY
          May not be as bad as you think.

                    TOMMY
          It's worse! I didn't get a fuckin'
          thing right! Might as well be in
          Chinese!

                    ANDY
          We'll see how the score comes out.

                    TOMMY
          I'll tell you how the goddamn score
          comes out...

Tommy grabs the test, wads it, slam-dunks it into the trash.

                    TOMMY (CONT’D)
          Two points! Right there! There's
          your goddamn score!
              (storms out)
          Goddamn cats crawlin' up trees, 5
          times 5 is 25, fuck this place,
          fuck it!
                                                      86.


Tommy is gone. Red and others stare. Andy gets up, pulls the
test from the trash, smoothes it out on the desk.

INT -- WOOD SHOP -- DAY (1966)

Rest break. Tommy and Red sipping Cokes.

                    TOMMY
          I feel bad. I let him down.

                    RED
          That's crap, son. He's proud of
          you. Proud as a hen.
              (off Tommy's look)
          We been friends a long time. I know
          him as good as anybody.

                    TOMMY
          Smart fella, ain't he?

                    RED
          Smart as they come. Used to be a
          banker on the outside.

                    TOMMY
          What's he in for anyway?

                    RED
          Murder.

                    TOMMY
          The hell you say.

                    RED
          You wouldn't think, lookin' at him.
          Caught his wife in bed with some
          golf pro. Greased 'em both. C'mon,
          boy, back to work...

SMASH! Red turns back. Tommy's Coke has slipped from his
hand and shattered on the floor. The kid's gone white as a
sheet.

                    TOMMY
              (bare whisper)
          Oh my God...

INT -- LIBRARY -- DAY (1966)

Tommy sits before Andy and Red:

                    TOMMY
          'Bout four years ago, I was in
          Thomaston on a 2 to 3 stretch.
                    (MORE)
                                                      87.

                    TOMMY (CONT'D)
          Stole a car. Dumbfuck thing to do.
              (beat)
          Few months left to go, I get a new
          cellmate in. Elmo Blatch. Big
          twitchy fucker. Crazy eyes. Kind of
          roomie you pray you don't get, know
          what I'm sayin'? 6 to 12 for armed
          burglary. Said he done hundreds of
          jobs. Hard to believe, high-strung
          as he was. Cut a loud fart, he'd go
          three feet in the air. Talked all
          the time, too, that's the other
          thing. Never shut up. Places he'd
          been, jobs he pulled, women he
          fucked. Even people he killed.
          People that gave him shit, that's
          how he put it. One night, like a
          joke, I say: "Yeah? Who'd you
          kill?" So he says...

                    BLATCH
          ...I got me this job one time
          bussin' tables at a country club.
          So I could case all the big rich
          pricks that come in. I pick out
          this guy, go in one night and do
          his place. He wakes up and gives me
          shit. So I killed him. Him and the
          tasty bitch he was with.
              (starts laughing)
          That's the best part! She's fuckin'
          this prick, see, this golf pro, but
          she's married to some other guy!
          Some hotshot banker. He's the one
          they pinned it on! They got him
          down-Maine somewhere doin' time for
          the crime! Ain't that choice?

He throws his head back and ROARS with laughter.

INT -- PRISON LIBRARY -- DAY (1966)

Silence. Tommy has finished his story. Red is stunned...but
Andy looks like he's been smacked with a two by four.

                    RED
          Andy?

Andy says nothing. Walks stiffly away. Doesn't look back.
                                                88.


INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- DAY (1966)

                    NORTON
          Well. I have to say, that's the
          most amazing story I ever heard.
          What amazes me most is you were
          taken in by it.

                    ANDY
          Sir?

                    NORTON
          It's obvious this fellow Williams
          is impressed with you. He hears
          your tale of woe and quite
          naturally wants to cheer you up.
          He's young, not terribly bright.
          Not surprising he didn't know what
          a state he'd put you in.

                    ANDY
          I think he's telling the truth.

                    NORTON
          Let's say for a moment Blatch does
          exist. You think he'd just fall to
          his knees and cry, "Yes, I did it!
          I confess! By all means, please add
          a life term to my sentence!"

                    ANDY
          It wouldn't matter. With Tommy's
          testimony, I can get a new trial.

                    NORTON
          That's assuming Blatch is even
          still there. Chances are excellent
          he'd be released by now. Excellent.

                    ANDY
          They'd have his last known address.
          Names of relatives...
              (Norton shakes his head)
          Well it's a chance. isn't it? How
          can you be so obtuse?

                    NORTON
          What? What did you call me?

                    ANDY
          Obtuse! Is it deliberate? The
          country club will have his old time
          cards! W-2s with his name on them!
                                                      89.


                    NORTON
              (rises)
          Dufresne, if you want to indulge
          this fantasy, that's your business.
          Don't make it mine. This meeting's
          over.

                    ANDY
          Look, if it's the squeeze, don't
          worry. I'd never say what goes on
          in here. I'd be just as indictable
          as you for laundering the money!

                    NORTON
          Don't you ever mention money to me
          again, you sorry son of a bitch!
          Not in this office, not anywhere!
              (slaps intercom)
          Get in here! Now!

                    ANDY
          I was just trying to rest your mind
          at ease, that's all.

                    NORTON
              (as GUARDS enter)
          Solitary! A month!

Andy gets dragged away, kicking and screaming:

                    ANDY
          What's the matter with you? It's my
          chance to get out, don't you see
          that? It's my life! Don't you
          understand it's my life?

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1966)

Mail call. Men crowd around as names are called out. Red and
the boys are parked on the bleachers.

                    FLOYD
          A month in the hole. Longest damn
          stretch I ever heard of.

                    TOMMY
          It's my fault.

                    RED
          Like hell. You didn't pull the
          trigger, and you didn't convict
          him.
                                                      90.


                    HEYWOOD
          Red? You saying Andy's innocent? I
          mean for real innocent?
              (Red nods)
          Sweet Jesus. How long's he been in
          here?

                    RED
          Since '47. Going on nineteen years.

                    MAIL CALLER
          Thomas Williams!

Tommy raises his hand. The envelope gets tossed to him. He
stares at it. Red peers over his shoulder.

                    RED
          Board of Education.

                    TOMMY
          The son of a bitch mailed it.

                    RED
          Looks that way. You gonna open it
          or stick your thumb up your butt?

                    TOMMY
          Thumb up my butt sounds better.

He gets hemmed in by the older men. Red snatches the letter.

                    TOMMY (CONT’D)
          C'mon, just throw it away. Will you
          please? Just throw it away?

Red rips it open, scans the letter. Expressionless.

                    RED
          Well, shit.

INT -- VISITOR'S ROOM -- DAY (1966)

Tommy makes his way through the chaos, finds Beth and the
baby waiting behind the thick plexi shield. He sits, doesn't
pick up the phone. Just stares at Beth. She doesn't know
what to make of it.

He presses a piece of paper against the glass. A high school
diploma. Her face lights up, blinking back tears.
                                                      91.


INT -- SOLITARY WING -- NIGHT (1966)

LOW ANGLE on steel door. Somewhere behind it, unseen, is
Andy, A rat scurries along the wall. FOOTSTEPS approach
slowly.

INT -- SOLITARY -- NIGHT (1966)

Andy listens in darkness. The FOOTSTEPS pause outside his
door. The slot opens. An ELDERLY GUARD peers in.

                    ELDERLY GUARD
          Kid passed. C-plus average. Thought
          you'd like to know.

The slot closes. The FOOTSTEPS recede. Andy smiles.

INT -- PRISON CORRIDOR -- NIGHT (1966)

We find Tommy on evening work detail, mopping the floors
with bucket and pail. Mert Entwhistle comes into view.

                    MERT
          Warden wants to talk.

EXT -- PRISON -- NIGHT (1966)

A steel door rattles open. Mert leads Tommy outside to a
gate, unlocks it. Tommy looks around.

                      TOMMY
          Out here?

                    MERT
          That's what the man said.

Mert swings the gate open, sends Tommy through, turns and
heads back inside. Tommy proceeds out across a loading-dock
access for the shops and mills. Some vehicles parked. The
place is deserted. He stops, sensing a presence.

                      TOMMY
          Warden?

Norton steps into the light.

                    NORTON
          Tommy, we've got a situation here.
          I think you can appreciate that.

                    TOMMY
          Yes sir, I sure can.
                                                      92.


                       NORTON
             I tell you, son, this really came
             along and knocked my wind out. It's
             got me up nights, that's the truth.

Norton pulls a pack of cigarettes, offers Tommy a smoke.
Tommy takes one. Norton lights both cigarettes, pockets his
lighter.

                       NORTON (CONT’D)
             The right decision. Sometimes it's
             hard to figure out what that is.
             You understand?
                 (Tommy nods)
             Think hard, Tommy. If I'm gonna
             move on this, there can't be the
             least little shred of doubt. I have
             to know if you what you told
             Dufresne was the truth.

                       TOMMY
             Yes sir. Absolutely.

                       NORTON
             Would you be willing to swear
             before a judge and jury...having
             placed your hand on the Good Book
             and taken an oath before Almighty
             God Himself?

                       TOMMY
             Just gimme that chance.

                       NORTON
             That's what I thought.

Norton drops his cigarette. Crushes it out with the toe of
his shoe. Glances up toward the plate shop roof as --

HIGH ANGLE FROM PLATE SHOP ROOF (SNIPER POV)

-- a rifle scope pops up into frame, jumping Tommy's image
into startling magnification, framed in the crosshairs.

THE SNIPER

rapid-fires a carbine -- BLAM!BLAM!BLAM!BLAM! -- his face
lit up by the muzzle flashes. Captain Hadley.

TOMMY 201

gets chewed to pieces by the gunfire. He smacks the ground
in a twitching, thrashing heap. Eyes wide and staring. Dead.
                                                         93.


Surprise still stamped on his face. Silence now. Norton
turns, strolls into darkness.

INT -- SOLITARY WING -- DAY (1966)

GUARDS approach Andy's cell. The door is unlocked. Andy
emerges slowly, blinking painfully at the light.

INT/EXT -- PRISON -- DAY (1966)

Andy is marched along. Convicts stop to stare.

INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- DAY (1966)

Andy is led in. The door is closed. Alone with Norton.
Softly,

                    NORTON
          Terrible thing. Man that young,
          less than a year to go, trying to
          escape. Broke Captain Hadley's
          heart to shoot him, truly it did.

                    ANDY
          I'm done. It stops right now. Get
          H&R Block to declare your income.

Norton lunges to his feet, eyes sparkling with rage.

                    NORTON
          Nothing stops! NOTHING!
              (tight)
          Or you will do the hardest time
          there is. No more protection from
          the guards. I'll pull you out of
          that one-bunk Hilton and put you in
          with the biggest bull queer I can
          find. You'll think you got fucked
          by a train! And the library? Gone!
          Sealed off brick by brick! We'll
          have us a little book-barbecue in
          the yard! They'll see the flames
          for miles! We'll dance around it
          like wild Indians! Do you
          understand me? Are you catching my
          drift?

SLOW PUSH IN on Andy's face. Eyes hollow. His beaten
expression says it all...

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1966)

Red finds Andy sitting in the shadow of the high stone wall,
poking listlessly through the dust for small pebbles.
                                                         94.


Red waits for some acknowledgment. Andy doesn't even look
up. Red hunkers down and joins him. Nothing is said for the
longest time. And then, softly:

                    ANDY
          My wife used to say I'm a hard man
          to know. Like a closed book.
          Complained about it all the time.
              (pause)
          She was beautiful. I loved her. But
          I guess I couldn't show it enough.
              (softly)
          I killed her, Red.

Andy finally glances to Red, seeking a reaction. Silence.

                    ANDY (CONT’D)
          I didn't pull the trigger. But I
          drove her away. That's why she
          died. Because of me, the way I am.

                    RED
          That don't make you a murderer. Bad
          husband, maybe.

Andy smiles faintly in spite of himself. Red gives his

shoulder a squeeze.

                    RED (CONT’D)
          Feel bad about it if you want. But
          you didn't pull the trigger.

                    ANDY
          No. I didn't. Someone else did, and
          I wound up here. Bad luck, I guess.

                    RED
          Bad luck? Jesus.

                    ANDY
          It floats around. Has to land on
          somebody. Say a storm comes
          through. Some folks sit in their
          living rooms and enjoy the rain.
          The house next door gets torn out
          of the ground and smashed flat. It
          was my turn, that's all. I was in
          the path of the tornado.
              (softly)
          I just had no idea the storm would
          go on as long as it has.
              (glances to him)
          Think you'll ever get out of here?
                                                95.


                    RED
          Sure. When I got a long white beard
          and about three marbles left
          rolling around upstairs.

                    ANDY
          Tell you where I'd go. Zihuatanejo.

                    RED
          Zihuatanejo?

                    ANDY
          Mexico. Little place right on the
          Pacific. You know what the Mexicans
          say about the Pacific? They say it
          has no memory. That's where I'd
          like to finish out my life, Red. A
          warm place with no memory. Open a
          little hotel right on the beach.
          Buy some worthless old boat and fix
          it up like new. Take my guests out
          charter fishing.
              (beat)
          You know, a place like that, I'd
          need a man who can get things.

Red stares at Andy, laughs.

                    RED
          Jesus, Andy. I couldn't hack it on
          the outside. Been in here too long.
          I'm an institutional man now. Like
          old Brooks Hatlen was.

                    ANDY
          You underestimate yourself.

                    RED
          Bullshit. In here I'm the guy who
          can get it for you. Out there, all
          you need are Yellow Pages. I
          wouldn't know where to begin.
              (derisive snort)
          Pacific Ocean? Hell. Like to scare
          me to death, somethin' that big.

                    ANDY
          Not me. I didn't shoot my wife and
          I didn't shoot her lover, and
          whatever mistakes I made I've paid
          for and then some. That hotel and
          that boat...I don't think it's too
          much to want.
                    (MORE)
                                                      96.

                    ANDY (CONT'D)
          To look at the stars just after
          sunset. Touch the sand. Wade in the
          water. Feel free.

                     RED
          Goddamn it, Andy, stop! Don't do
          that to yourself! Talking shitty
          pipedreams! Mexico's down there,
          and you're in here, and that's the
          way it is!

                    ANDY
          You're right. It's down there, and
          I'm in here. I guess it comes down
          to a simple choice, really. Get
          busy living or get busy dying.

Red snaps a look. What the hell does that mean? Andy rises
and walks away. Red lunges to his feet.

                    RED
          Andy?

                    ANDY
              (turns back)
          Red, if you ever get out of here,
          do me a favor. There's this big
          hayfield up near Buxton. You know
          where Buxton is?

                    RED
              (nods)
          Lots of hayfields there.

                    ANDY
          One in particular. Got a long rock
          wall with a big oak at the north
          end. Like something out of a Robert
          Frost poem. It's where I asked my

                    ANDY (CONT.) (CONT’D)
          wife to marry me. We'd gone for a
          picnic. We made love under that
          tree. I asked and she said yes.
              (beat)
          Promise me, Red. If you ever get
          out, find that spot. In the base of
          that wall you'll find a rock that
          has no earthly business in a Maine
          hayfield. A piece of black volcanic
          glass. You'll find something buried
          under it I want you to have.
                                                     97.


                    RED
          What? What's buried there?

                    ANDY
          You'll just have to pry up that
          rock and see.

Andy turns and walks away.

INT -- MESS HALL -- DAY (1966)

                    RED
          I tell you, the man was talkin'
          crazy. I'm worried, I truly am.

                    SKEET
          We ought to keep an eye on him.

                    JIGGER
          That's fine, during the day. But at
          night he's got that cell all to
          himself.

                    HEYWOOD
          Oh Lord. Andy come down to the
          loading dock today. Asked me for a
          length of rope. Six foot long.

                    SNOOZE
          Shit! You gave it to him?

                    HEYWOOD
          Sure I did. I mean why wouldn't I?

                    FLOYD
          Christ! Remember Brooks Hatlen?

                    HEYWOOD
          How the hell was I s'pose to know?

                    JIGGER
          Andy'd never do that. Never.

They all look to Red.

                    RED
          Every man's got a breaking point.

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- ANGLE ON P.A. -- DUSK (1966)

                    VOICE (OVER P.A.)
          Report to your cellblocks for
          evening count.
                                                      98.


BOOM DOWN to Red and the boys. Convicts drift past them.

                    FLOYD
          Where the hell is he?

                    HEYWOOD
          Probably still up in the warden's.

                    TOWER GUARD
              (via bullhorn)

YOU MEN! YOU HEAR THAT ANNOUNCEMENT

OR ZUST TOO STUPID TO UNDERSTAND?

                    SKEET
          Christ. What do we do?

                    FLOYD
          Nothing we can do. Not tonight.

                    HEYWOOD
          Let's pull him aside tomorrow, all
          of us. Have a word with him. Ain't
          that right, Red?

                    RED
              (unconvinced)
          Yeah. Sure. That's right.

INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- NIGHT (1966)

Andy's working away. Norton pokes his head in.

                    NORTON
          Lickety-split. I wanna get home.

                    ANDY
          Just about done, sir.

We follow Norton to his wife's sampler. He swings it aside,
works the combination dial, opens the wall safe. Andy moves
up, shoves in the black ledger and files. Norton shuts the
safe.

                    ANDY (CONT’D)
          Three deposits tonight.

Andy hands him the envelopes. Norton heads for the door.

                    NORTON
          Get my stuff down t'laundry. And
          shine my shoes. I want 'em lookin'
          like mirrors.
                    (MORE)
                                                        99.

                    NORTON (CONT'D)
              (pauses at door)
          Nice havin' you back, Andy. Place
          just wasn't the same without you.

Norton exits. Andy turns to the laundry. He opens the
shoebox. Nice pair of dress shoes inside. He sighs, glances
down at the old ragged pair of work shoes on his own feet.

INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- NIGHT (1966)

Andy is diligently shining Norton's shoes.

INT -- PRISON CORRIDOR -- NIGHT (1966)

Andy trudges down the hallway, laundry slung over his
shoulder,

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- NIGHT (1966)

Andy nods to the GUARD. The guard BUZZES him through.

INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1966)

Red hears Andy coming, moves to the bars. He watches Andy
come up to the second tier and pause before his cell.

                    GUARD (O.S.)
          Open number twelve!

Andy gazes directly at Red. A beat of eye contact. Red
shakes his head. Don't do it. Andy smiles, eerily calm...and
enters his cell. The door closes. KA-THUMP! We hold on Red's
face.

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1966)

Andy is polishing a chess piece.

                    VOICE (O.S.)
          Lights out!

The lights bump off. He finishes polishing, holds up the
piece to admire. A pawn. He sets it down with the others --
and we realize it's the final glance for the board. A full
set.

He gazes up at Racquel and smiles. Pulls a six foot length
of rope from under his pillow. Lets it uncoil to the floor.

INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1966)

Red sits in the dark, a bundle of nerves, trying to hold
                                                       100.


himself still. He feels like he might scream or shake to
pieces. The seconds tick by, each an eternity.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I have had some long nights in
          stir. Alone in the dark with
          nothing but your thoughts, time can
          draw out like a blade...

A FLASH OF LIGHTNING outside his window sends harsh barred
shadows jittering across the cell. A storm breaking.

                    RED (V.O.)
          That was the longest night of my
          life...

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- MORNING (1966)

KA-THUMP! The master lock is thrown. The cons emerge from
their cells and the headcount begins. Red looks back to see
if Andy's in line. He's not. Suddenly the count stalls:

                    GUARD
          Man missing on tier two! Cell 12!

The head bull, HAIG, checks his list:

                    HAIG
          Dufresne? Get your ass out here,
          boy! You're holding up the show!
              (no answer)
          Don't make me come down there now!
          I'll thump your skull for you!

Still no answer. Glaring, Haig stalks down the tier,
clipboard in hand. His men fall in behind.

                    HAIG (CONT’D)
          Dufresne, dammit, you're putting me
          behind! You better be sick or dead
          in there, I shit you not!

They arrive at bars. Their faces go slack. Stunned. Softly:

                    HAIG (CONT’D)
          Oh my Holy God.

REVERSE ANGLE

reveals the cell is empty. Everything neat and tidy. Even
the bunk is stowed. They wrench the door open and rush in,
tossing the cell in a panic as if Andy might be lurking
under the Kleenex or the toothpaste.
                                                     101.


CAMERA ROCKETS IN on Haig as he spins toward us, bellowing
at the top of his lungs:

                    HAIG
          WHAT THE FUCK!

INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- MORNING (1966)

Norton is kicking back with the morning paper. He notices ha
dingy his shoes are. He glances at the shoebox on the desk.
kicks his shoes off, opens the box -- and gulls out Andy's o
grimy work shoes. He stares blankly. What the fuck indeed.

An ALARM STARTS BLARING throughout the prison. He looks up.

EXT -- PRISON -- DAY (1966)

Norton and Hadley stride across the grounds, ALARM BLARING.

                    NORTON
          I want every man on that cellblock
          questioned! Start with that friend
          of his!

                    HADLEY
          who?

INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- RED'S CELL -- DAY (1966)

Red watches as Norton storms up with an entourage of guards.

                    NORTON
          Him.

Red's eyes widen. Guards yank him from his cell.

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- DAY (1966)

Norton steps to the center of the room, working himself up
into a fine rage:

                    NORTON
          What do you mean "he just wasn't
          here?" Don't say that to me, Haig!
          Don't say that to me again!

                    HAIG
          But sir! He wasn't! He isn't!

                    NORTON
          I can see that, Haig! You think I'm
          blind? Is that what you're saying?
          Am I blind, Haig?
                                                       102.


                       HAIG
          No sir!

Norton grabs the clipboard and thrusts it at Hadley.

                    NORTON
          What about you? You blind? Tell me
          what this is!

                    HADLEY
          Last night's count.

                    NORTON
          You see Dufresne's name? I sure do!
          Right there, see? "Dufresne." He
          was in his cell at lights out!
          Stands to reason he'd still be here
          this morning! I want him found! Not
          tomorrow, not after breakfast! Now!

Haig scurries out, gathering men. Norton spins to Red.

                       NORTON (CONT’D)
          Well?

                       RED
          Well what?

                    NORTON
          I see you two all the time, you're
          thick as thieves, you are! He
          must'a said something!

                    RED
          No sir, he didn't!

Norton spreads his arms evangelist-style, spins slowly
around.

                    NORTON
          Lord! It's a miracle! Man up and
          vanished like a fart in the wind!
          Nothin' left but some damn rocks on
          the windowsill and that cupcake on
          the wall! Let's ask her! Maybe she
          knows! What say there, Fuzzy-
          Britches? Feel like talking? Guess
          not. Why should you be different?

Red exchanges looks with the guards. Even they're nervous.
Norton scoops a handful rocks off the sill. He hurls them at
the wall one at a time, shattering them, punctuating his
words:
                                                     103.


                    NORTON (CONT’D)
          It's a conspiracy! (SMASH) That's
          what this is! (SMASH) It's one big
          damn conspiracy! (SMASH) And
          everyone's in on it! (SMASH)
          Including her!

He sends the last rock whizzing right at Racquel. No smash.

It takes a moment for this to sink in. All eyes go to her.
The rock went through her. There's a small hole in the
poster where her navel used to be.

You could hear a pin drop. Norton reaches up, sinks his
finger into the hole. He keeps pushing...and his entire hand
disappears into the wall.

ANGLE FROM BEHIND POSTER

as Norton rips the poster from before our eyes. Stunned
faces peer in. CAMERA PULLS SLOWLY BACK...to reveal the long
crumbling tunnel in the wall.

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- MINUTES LATER (1966)

RORY TREMONT, a guard barely out of his teens, tries not to
look nervous as they lash a rope around his chest. He's
getting instructions from six different people at once.

                    RED (V.O.)
          They got this skinny kid named Rory
          Tremont to go in the hole. He
          wasn't much in the brains
          department, but he possessed the
          one most important qualification
          for the job...
              (they slap a flashlight
               in his hands)
          ...he was willing to go.

INT -- TUNNEL -- DAY (1966)

Rory squeezes down the tunnel on his belly.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Probably thought he'd win a Bronze
          Star or something.

INT -- VERTICAL SHAFT -- DAY (1966)

Dark as midnight. Concrete walls rise on both sides. If you
imagine them as two huge slices of bread, the meat of this
particular sandwich is about three feet of airspace and a
dark tangle of pipes between the cellblocks.
                                                       104.


Rory's appears, shining his flashlight down the shaft.
Somewhere, a rat SQUEAKS.

                    RED (V.O.)
          It was his third day on the job.

                    RORY
          Warden? There's a space here
          between the walls 'bout three feet
          across! Smells pretty damn bad!

                    NORTON (O.S.)
          I don't care what it smells like!

                    HADLEY (O.S.)
          Go on, boy! We got a hold of you!

Looking none too happy about it, Rory squeezes from the
tunnel and dangles into the shaft. He gets lowered, shining
his light, smothered by darkness. Not having a good time.

                    RORY
          Hoo-whee! Smell's gettin' worse!

                    NORTON (O.S.)
          Never mind, I said! Just keep
          going!

                    RORY
          Smells pretty damn bad, Warden! In
          fact, it smells just like shit.

His feet touch the ground -- or what he assumed was the
ground. It's not. In fact, it's just what it smells like. He
sinks in past his ankles. He slips and sits heavily in it.

                    RORY (CONT’D)
          Oh God, that's what it is, it's
          shit. oh my God it's shit. pull me
          out 'fore I blow my groceries, oh
          shit it's shit, oh my Gawwwwwwd!

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- DAY (1966)

Red and others listen to violent barfing from below.

                    RED (V.O.)
          And then came the unmistakable
          sound of Rory Tremont losing his
          last few meals. The whole cellblock
          heard it. I mean, it echoed.
                                                     105.


That's it for Red. He starts laughing. Laughing, hell, he's
bellowing laughter, laughing so hard he has to hold himself,
laughing so hard tears are pouring down his cheeks. The look
of rage on Norton's face makes him laugh all the harder.

INT -- SOLITARY WING -- NIGHT (1966)

Abrupt silence. LOW ANGLE on steel door.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I laughed myself right into
          solitary. Two week stretch.

INT -- SOLITARY -- NIGHT (1966)

                    RED
          It's shit, it's shit, oh my God
          it's shit...

He starts laughing all over again, fit to split.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Andy once talked about doing easy
          time in the hole. Now I knew what
          he meant.

EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- WIDE SHOT -- DAY (1966)

Virgin landscape. Charming rural road. Suddenly, State
Police cruisers rocket up the road with SIRENS AND LIGHTS.

                    RED (V.O.)
          In 1966, Andy Dufresne escaped from
          Shawshank Prison.

EXT -- FIELD -- DAY (1966)

Shawshank is half a mile distant. WE TRACK ALONG a muddy
creel as STATE TROOPERS and PRISON GUARDS scour the brush. A
TROOPEE fishes a prison uniform out of the creek with a long
stick.

                    RED (V.O.)
          All they found of him was a muddy
          set of prison clothes, a bar of
          soap, and an old rock-hammer damn
          near worn down to the nub.

TROOPER g2 pulls the rock-hammer from the weeds. SWISH PAN
to a POLICE PHOTOGRAPHER. His FLASHBULB GLARE produces:

A BLACK AND WHITE STILL PHOTO
                                                     106.


of the hapless cops posing with Andy's reeking uniform and
the worn rock-hammer. PUSH IN on the hammer.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I remember thinking it would take a
          man six hundred years to tunnel
          through the wall with it. Andy did
          it in less than twenty.

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1949)

Once again, we see Andy using the rock-hammer to scratch his

name into the cement. Suddenly, a palm-sized chunk of cement
pops free and hits the floor. He stares down at it.

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1949)

Andy lies in the dark, studying the chunk of concrete in his
hands. Considering the possibilities. Wrestling with hope.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Andy loved geology. I imagine it
          appealed to his meticulous nature.
          An ice age here, a million years of
          mountain-building there, plates of
          bedrock grinding against each other
          over a span of millennia...

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1949)

Andy stands peering at the small hole left by the fallen
chunk. Carefully runs his fingertip over it.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Geology is the study of pressure
          and time. That's all it takes,
          really. Pressure and time.

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1951)

Rita is now on the wall, hanging down over Andy's back.

                    RED (V.O.)
          That and a big damn poster.

TRACK IN to reveal Andy scraping patiently at the concrete.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Like I said. In prison, a man'll do
          most anything to keep his mind
          occupied.
                                                     107.


He hears FOOTSTEPS approaching. He smoothes the poster down
and dives into bed. A GUARD strolls by a moment later,
shining his flashlight into the cell.

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1953)

Andy strolls along, whistling softly, hands in both pockets.
TILT DOWN to his pantleg. Concrete grit trickles out.

                    RED (V.O.)
          It turns out Andy's favorite hobby
          was totin' his wall out into the
          exercise yard a handful at a
          time...

INT -- 2ND TIER -- NIGHT (1962)

A GUARD strolls the tier, shining his flashlight into the
cells. He pauses at Andy's bars, playing the beam over the
sleeping form huddled under the blankets.

p37 REVERSE ANGLE (FROM INS1DE ANDY'S CELL)

We see what the guard doesn't: instead of Andy's head under
the blanket, it's a wadded-up pillow. The flashlight plays
across the cell, pinning Marilyn Monroe in a circle of
light.

ANGLE FROM BEHIND POSTER

The light illuminates her face through the paper. WIDEN to
reveal Andy lying in his tunnel, holding his breath. The
light clicks off. The FOOTSTEPS move on. He gets back to
work.

                    RED (V.O.)
          While the rest of us slept, Andy
          spent years workin' the
          nightshift...

INT -- SHAFT -- NIGHT (1965)

BOOMING SLOWLY UP the shaft. Rats scurry the pipes.
Suddenly, r piece of concrete the size of a quarter jumps
free and plummets down the shaft as the rock-hammer pushes
through. The pick withdraws, replaced by Andy's peering eye.

A SERIES OF DISSOLVES (1965 through 1966)

takes us through the widening of the hole. First as big as a
tea cup. Then a saucer. Then a dinner plate.
                                                        108.


                    RED (V.O.)
          Probably took him most of a year
          just to get his head through.

Andy finally gets his head through, scraping his ears. He's
got a penlight clenched in his teeth. He peers down into the
shaft. At the very bottom, maybe 20 feet down, a big ceramic
pipe runs the length of the cellblock. Beneath its coat of
grime and dust, the word "SEWER" is stenciled.

EXT -- LOADING DOCK ACCESS -- NIGHT (1966)

ANGLE LOOKING STRAIGHT DOWN. Below us, Tommy Williams lies
facedown at Norton's feet. Blood is spreading, fanning out
oa the pavement. Norton turns, strolls out of frame.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I guess after Tommy was killed,
          Andy decided he'd been here just
          about long enough.

Again we see: Andy working. Norton pokes his head in.

                    NORTON
          Lickety-split. I wanna get home.

                    ANDY
          Just about done, sir.

Norton crosses to the wall safe and works the dial, his back
turned. This time, though, we stay on Andy:

He pulls up his sweater, yanks out a large black book and a
stack of files, lays them on the desk. He then grabs the
real ledger and files, jams them down his pants and smoothes
his sweater down. He picks up the bogus stack, crosses to
Norton, and shoves everything in.

INT -- HALLWAY -- NIGHT (1966)

Norton exits his office and strolls off whistling. PUSH IN
on the open door. We see Andy at the guard's desk, pulling
Norton's dress shoes from their box.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Andy did like he was told. Buffed
          those shoes to a high mirror shine.

INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- MINUTES LATER (1966)

Andy sorts through Norton's three suits. He pauses, checking
the gray pinstripe. Nice.
                                                       109.


INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- NIGHT (1966)

The guard BUZZES Andy through. Andy walks toward us.

                    RED (V.O.)
          The guard simply didn't notice.
          Neither did I. I mean, seriously,
          how often do you really look at a
          man's shoes?

TILT DOWN as he passes by. Yep, he's wearing Norton's shoes.

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1966)

The lights go out. Andy places the last chess piece. Gazes
up at Racquel. Smiles. Pulls the rope from under his pillow.
He stands and unbuttons his prison shirt, revealing Norton's
gray pinstripe suit underneath. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING floods
the cell, throwing wild shadows.

INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1966)

The storm rages. Andy, naked, carefully slips Norton's
folded suit into a large industrial Zip-Lock bag. Next to go
in are the shoes, chess pieces (already in a smaller bag),
black ledger en files. Last but not least, a bar of soap
wrapped in a towel.

INT -- TUNNEL -- NIGHT (1966)

Andy, again wearing prison clothes, inches down the tunnel.

INT -- SHAFT -- NIGHT (1966)

Andy squeezes through the hole head-first, emerges to the
waist, He reaches for the opposite wall, manages to snag a
steel conduit with his fingers.

Suddenly, a huge rat darts for his hand. Andy yanks away and
almost plummets head-first down the shaft. He dangles wildly
upside-down for a moment, arms windmilling, then gets his
hands pressed firmly against the opposite wall. The rat
scurries off, pissed.

Andy snags the conduit again. He contorts out of the hole
and dangles into the shaft. We now see the purpose for the
rope: the plastic bag hangs from his ankle with about two
feet of slack,

He kicks his legs across the shaft, gets his feet braced.
Wit3 his back against one wall and feet against the other,
he starts down the shaft. Sliding dangerously. Using pipes
for handholds.
                                                        110.


Flinching as rats dart this way and that, scurrying in the
shadows. He drops the last few feet to the bottom.

He approaches the ceramic sewer pipe and kneels before it.
Pulls out the rock-hammer and says a quick silent prayer.
Raises the rock-hammer high and swings it down with all his
might. Once, twice -- third time lucky. An enormous eruption
of sewage cascades into the air as if rocket-propelled, the
Mount St. Helens of shit. Andy is instantly coated black. He
turns away and heaves his guts out. The shit keeps coming.

INT -- SEWER PIPE -- NIGHT (1966)

Andy peers down through the hole, playing his penlight
around, The inside diameter is no more than two feet. Tight
squeeze. Coated with crud. It seems to go on for miles.

No turning back. He wriggles into the pipe and starts
crawling, plastic bag dragging behind.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Andy crawled to freedom through
          five hundred yards of shit-smelling
          foulness I can't even imagine. Or
          maybe I just don't want to.

EXT -- FIELD -- NIGHT (1966)

Rain is falling in solid sheets. Shawshank is half a mile
distant. BOOM DOWN to reveal the creek...and PUSH IN toward
the mouth of the sewer pipe that feeds into it.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Five hundred yards. The length of
          five football fields. Just shy of
          half a mile.

Fingers appear, thrusting through the heavy-gauge wire mesh
covering the mouth of the pipe. Andy's face looms from the
darkness, peering out at freedom. He wrenches the mesh
loose, pushes himself out, and plunges head-first into the
creek. He comes up sputtering for breath. The water is waist-
deep.

He wades upstream, ripping his clothes from his body. He
gets his shirt off, spins it through the air over his head,
flings the shirt away. He raises his arms to the sky,
turning slowly, feeling the rain washing him clean.
Exultant. Triumphant. A FLASH OF LIGHTNING arcs from horizon
to horizon.

INT -- ANDY'S TUNNEL -- DAY (1966)

Once again, we see stunned faces as CAMERA PULLS BACK.
                                                     111.


                    RED (V.O.)
          The next morning, right about the
          time Racquel was spilling her
          little secret...

INT -- CASCO BANK OF PORTLAND -- MORNING (1966)

The door opens. Spit-shined shoes enter. DOLLY the shoes to
the counter.

                    RED (V.O.)
          ...a man nobody ever laid eyes on
          before strolled into the Casco Bank
          of Portland. Until that moment, he
          didn't exist -- except on paper.

                    FEMALE TELLER (O.S.)
          May I help you?

TILT UP to Andy. Smiling in Norton's gray pinstripe suit.

                    ANDY
          My name is Peter Stevens. I've come
          to close out some accounts.

INT -- BANK -- SHORTLY LATER (1966)

The teller is cutting a cashier's check while the MANAGER
carefully examines Mr. Stevens' various I.D.s.

                    RED (V.O.)
          He had all the proper I.D. Driver's
          license, birth certificate, social
          security card. The signature was a
          spot-on match.

                    MANAGER
          I must say I'm sorry to be losing
          your business. I hope you'll enjoy
          living abroad.

                    ANDY
          Thank you. I'm sure I will.

                    TELLER
          Here's your cashier's check, sir.
          Will there be anything else?

                    ANDY
          Please. Would you add this to your
          outgoing mail?

He hands her a package, stamped and addressed. Gives them a
pleasant smile. Turns and strolls from the bank.
                                                     112.


                    RED (V.O.)
          Mr. Stevens visited nearly a dozen
          banks in the Portland area that
          morning. All told, he blew town
          with better than 370 thousand
          dollars of Warden Norton's money.
          Severance pay for nineteen years.

INT -- OFFICE -- DAY (1966)

A MAN in shirtsleeves is going through the mail on his desk.
He finds Andy's package, rips it open. Pulls out the black
ledger and files. Scans a cover letter. Holy shit. He dashes
to his door and yanks it open, revealing the words on the
glass: "PORTLAND DAILY BUGLE -- Editor In Chief."

                    MAN
          Hal! Dave! Get your butts in here!

INT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- DAY (1966)

Norton walks slowly toward his office. Dazed. The morning
paper in his hand. He goes wordlessly past the DUTY GUARD
into his office. Shuts the door. Lays the paper on his desk.

The headline reads: "CORRUPTION AND MURDER AT SHAWSHANK."
Below that, the sub-headline: "D.A. Has Ledger. Indictments
Expected." Norton looks up as SIRENS SWELL in the distance.

EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- WIDE SHOT -- DAY (1966)

For the second time, State Police cruisers go rocketing up
the road with SIRENS AND LIGHTS.

INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- DAY (1966)

Norton opens his safe and pulls out the "ledger" -- it's
Andy's Bible. The title page is inscribed by hand: "Dear
Warden. You were right. Salvation lay within." Norton flips
to the center of the book -- and finds the pages hollowed
out in the shape of a rock-hammer.

EXT -- PRISON -- DAY (1966)

Police cruisers everywhere. A media circus. REPORTERS jostle
for position. A colorless DISTRICT ATTORNEY steps forward
into CLOSEUP, flanked by a contingent of S.ATE TROOPERS.

                    D.A.
          Byron Hadley?

ANGLE SHIFTS to reveal Captain Hadley. Staring. Waiting.
                                                       113.


                    D.A. (CONT’D)
          You have the right to remain
          silent. If you give up that right,
          anything you say will be used
          against you in court...

TROOPERS move in, cuffing Hadley's hands behind his back.
The D.A. drones on. FLASHBULBS POP. Hadley says nothing. His
face scrunches up. He begins to cry.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I wasn't there to see it, but I
          hear Byron Hadley was sobbing like
          a little girl when they took him
          away.

Hadley sobs all the way to the car. The D.A. snaps a gaze up
toward Norton's window, motions his men to follow.

INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- DAY (1966)

Norton is staring out the window as they approach the
building. He goes to his desk, opens a drawer. Inside lies a
revolver and a box of shells.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Norton had no intention of goin'
          that quietly.

INT -- PRISON CORRIDORS -- DAY (1966)

The D.A. marches along amidst a phalanx of TROOPERS.

INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- DAY (1966)

Norton sits blankly at his desk, revolver before him. The
doorknob rattles, a VOICE is heard:

                    D.A. (O.S.)
          Samuel Norton? We have a warrant
          for your arrest! Open up!

The POUNDING starts. Norton dumps the box of bullets out on
thr desk. He starts sorting them to see which ones he likes.

OUTSIDE HIS OFFICE

Troopers hustle the hapless duty guard to Norton's door as
he fumbles nervously with a huge key ring.

                    DUTY GUARD
          I'm not sure which one it is...
                                                        114.


He starts trying keys in the lock. And as the keys go
sliding in one after another...

INT -- NORTON'S OFFICE -- DAY (1966)

...so do the bullets. Norton is riveted to the door. For
every key, he loads another bullet. Methodical and grim. He
gets the final bullet in just as the right key slams home.
The door bursts open. Men muscle in. Somebody SHOUTS.
Troopers dive in all directions as Norton raises the gun --

-- and jams it under his chin. His head snaps back as the
wall goes red. His swivel chair does a slow half-turn and
creaks to a final stop. Troopers rise slowly, gazing in
horror.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I like to think the last thing that
          went through his head...other than
          that bullet...was to wonder how the
          hell Andy Dufresne ever got the
          best of him.

PUSH SLOWLY to the wall to reveal Mrs. Norton's framed
sampler trickling blood and brains...and we get our final
Bible lesson for today: "HIS JUDGMENT COMETH AND THAT RIGHT
SOON."

EXT -- PRISON YARD -- DAY (1966)

Mail call. Red hears his name. They pass him a postcard.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Not long after the warden deprived
          us of his company, I got a postcard
          in the mail. It was blank. But the
          postmark said, "McNary, Texas."

INT -- LIBRARY -- DAY (1966)

Red sits with an atlas, tracing his finger down the page.

                    RED (V.O.)
          McNary. Right on the border. That's
          where Andy crossed.
              (shuts the book)
          When I picture him heading south in
          his own car with the top down, it
          makes me laugh all over again...

EXT -- MEXICO -- HIGHWAY -- DAY (1966)

A red convertible rips along with Andy at the wheel, cigar
jutting from his grin, warm wind fluttering his tie.
                                                       115.


                    RED (V.O.)
          Andy Dufresne, who crawled through
          a river of shit and came out clean
          on the other side. Andy Dufresne,
          headed for the Pacific.

INT -- MESS HALL -- DAY (1966)

Heywood is regaling the table with some anecdote about Andy.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Those of us who knew him best talk
          about him often. I swear, the stuff
          he pulled. It always makes us
          laugh.

A wild burst of laughter. PUSH IN on Red. Feeling
melancholy.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Sometimes it makes me sad, though,
          Andy being gone. I have to remind
          myself that some birds aren't meant
          to be caged, that's all. Their
          feathers are just too bright...

EXT -- FIELDS -- LATE DAY (1966)

Convicts hoe the fields. Guards patrol on horseback.

                    RED (V.O.)
          ...and when they fly away, the part
          of you that knows it was a sin to
          lock them up does rejoice...but
          still, the place you live is that
          much more drab and empty that
          they're gone.

A DISTANT RUMBLE OF THUNDER. Red pauses, gazes off. Storm
clouds coming in, backlit by the sun. A light drizzle
begins.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I guess I just miss my friend.

INT -- PRISON CELL -- NIGHT (1966)

Red is sleeping. He wakes with a start.

                    RED (V.O.)
          But there are times I curse him for
          the dreams he left behind...
                                                     116.


He senses a presence, looks over his shoulder. There's a
Rita Hayworth poster on his wall. He gets out of bed. Rita
just keeps smiling, inscrutable. As Red watches, a brilliant
round glow builds behind the poster, shining from the
tunnel. The poster rips free, charred to ash in the blink of
an eye as a shaft of holy white light stabs into the cell.
Sunlight. Red staggers back against the glare.

A whirlwind kicks up, whipping everything into the air. The
hole in the wall is like a giant vacuum cleaner -- papers,
book, toiletries, bedding -- if it ain't nailed down, it
gets sucked down the hole toward the light. Red fights it,
but the suction drags him closer and closer...

RED'S POV

...and CAMERA rockets into the hole, getting sucked down an
endless tunnel at impossible speed, the ROAR of air mixing
with his drawn-out SCREAM, closer and closer to the light...

...and erupting out the other side into total silence and a
beautiful white beach. The Pacific Ocean before us.
Enormous. Mind-blowing. Beautiful beyond description. All we
hear now are the gentle sound of waves.

                      RED (V.O.)
            ...dreams where I am lost in a warm
            place with no memory.

A lone figure stands at water's edge. CAMERA KEEPS MOVING,
coming up behind him and TRACKING AROUND to reveal -- Red.

                      RED (V.O.)
            An ocean so big it strikes me dumb.
            Waves so quiet they strike me deaf.
            Sunshine so bright it strikes me
            blind. It is a place that is blue
            beyond reason. Bluer than can
            possibly exist. Bluer than my mind
            can possibly grasp.

AERIAL SHOT

Nothing for a million miles but beach, sky, and water. Red
is a tiny speck at water's edge. Just another grain of sand.

                      RED (V.O.)
            I am terrified. There is no way
            home.

INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1966)

Red wakes from the nightmare. He gets out of bed. Moves to
the barred window of his cell. Peers up at the stars.
                                                     117.


                    RED (V.O.)
          Andy. I know you're in that place.
          Look at the stars for me just after
          sunset. Touch the sand...wade in
          the water...and feel free.

                                           FADE TO BLACK

AN IRON-BARRED DOOR

slides open with an enormous CLANG. A stark room beyond.
CAMERA PUSHES through. SIX MEN AND ONE WOMAN sit at a long
table. An empty chair faces them. We are again in:

INT -- SHAWSHANK HEARINGS ROOM -- DAY (1967)

Red enters, sits. 20 years older than when we first saw him.

                    MAN #1
          Your file says you've served forty
          years of a life sentence. You feel
          you've been rehabilitated?

Red doesn't answer. Just stares off. Seconds tick by. The
parole board exchanges glances. Somebody clears his throat.

                    MAN #1 (CONT’D)
          Shall I repeat the question?

                    RED
          I heard you. Rehabilitated. Let's
          see now. You know, come to think of
          it, I have no idea what that means.

                    MAN #2
          Well, it means you're ready to
          rejoin society as a--

                    RED
          I know what you think it means. Me,
          I think it's a made-up word, a poli-
          tician's word. A word so young
          fellas like you can wear a suit and
          tie and have a job. What do you
          really want to know? Am I sorry for
          what I did?

                    MAN #2
          Well...are you?

                    RED
          Not a day goes by I don't feel
          regret, and not because I'm in here
          or because you think I should.
                    (MORE)
                                                     118.

                    RED (CONT'D)
          I look back on myself the way I
          was...stupid kid who did that
          terrible crime...wish I could talk
          sense to him. Tell him how things
          are. But I can't. That kid's long
          gone, this old man is all that's
          left, and I have to live with that.
              (beat)
          Rehabilitated? That's a bullshit
          word, so you just go on ahead and
          stamp that form there, sonny, and
          stop wasting my damn time. Truth
          is, I don't give a shit.

The parole board just stares. Red sits drumming his fingers.

CLOSEUP -- PAROLE FORM

A big rubber stamp SLAMS down -- and lifts away to reveal
the word "APPROVED" in red ink.

EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- DAY

TWO SHORT SIREN BLASTS herald the opening of the main gate.
It swings hugely open, revealing Red standing in his cheap
suit, carrying a cheap bag, wearing a cheap hat. He walks
out, still looking stunned.

INT -- BUS -- DAY

Red rides the bus, clutching the seat before him, gripped by
terror of speed and motion.

EXT -- BREWSTER HOTEL -- LATE AFTERNOON

Red arrives at the Brewster, three stories high and even
less to look at than it used to be.

INT -- BREWSTER -- LATE DAY

A BLACK WOMAN leads Red up the stairs toward the top floor.

INT -- RED'S ROOM -- LATE DAY

Small, old, dingy. An arched window with a view of Congress
Street. Traffic noise floats up. Red enters and pauses,
staring up at the ceiling beam. Carved into the wood are the
words: "Brooks Hatlen was here."

INT -- FOODWAY MARKET -- DAY

Loud. Jangling with PEOPLE and NOISE. We find Red bagging
groceries. Registers are humming, kids are shrieking. Red
calls to the STORE MANAGER:
                                                      119.


                    RED
          Sir? Restroom break sir?

                    MANAGER
              (motions him over)
          You don't need to ask me every time
          you go take a piss. Just go.
          Understand?

INT -- EMPLOYEE RESTROOM -- DAY

Red steps to the urinal, stares at himself in the wall
mirror.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Thirty years I've been asking
          permission to piss. I can't squeeze
          a drop without say-so.

A strange east Indian guitar-whine begins. The Beatles.
George Harrison's "Within You Without You..."

EXT -- STREET -- DAY

...which carries through as Red walks. People and traffic.
He keeps looking at the women. An alien species.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Women, too, that's the other thing.
          I forgot they were half the human
          race. There's women everywhere,
          every shape and size. I find myself
          semi-hard most of the time, cursing
          myself for a dirty old man.

TWO YOUNG WOMEN stroll by in cut-offs and t-shirts.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Not a brassiere to be seen, nipples
          poking out at the world. Jeezus,
          pleeze-us. Back in my day, a woman
          out in public like that would have
          been arrested and given a sanity
          hearing.

EXT -- PARK -- DUSK

Red finds the park filled with HIPPIES. Hanging out.
Happening. Here's the source of the music: a radio. A HIPPIE
GIRL gyrates to the Beatles, stoned, in her own world.
                                                     120.


                    RED (V.O.)
          They're calling this the Summer of
          Love. Summer of Loonies, you ask
          me.

INT -- PAROLE OFFICE -- DAY

Red sits across from his PAROLE OFFICER. The P.O. is filling
out his report.

                    P.O.
          You staying out of the bars, Red?

                    RED
          Yes sir. That I am.

                    P.O.
          How you doing otherwise? Adjusting
          okay?

                    RED
          Things got different out here.

                    P.O.
          Tell me about it. Young punks
          protesting the war. You imagine?
          Even my own kid. Oughtta bust his
          fuckin' skull.

                    RED
          Guess the world moved on.

INT -- FOODWAY -- DAY

Bagging groceries. CHILDREN underfoot. One points a toy gun
at Red, pumping the trigger. Red focuses on the gun,
listening to it CLICKETY-CLACK. Sparky wheel grinding.

The kids get swept off by MOM. Red starts bagging the next
customer. SLOW PUSH IN on Red. Surrounded by MOTION and
NOISE. Feeling like the eye of a hurricane. People
everywhere, whipping around him like a gale. Strange. Loud.
Dizzying. It gets distorted and weird, slow and thick,
pressing in on him from all sides. The noise level
intensifies. The hollering of children deepens and distends
into LOW EERIE HOWLS.

He's in the grip of a major anxiety attack. Tries to shake
himself out of it. Can't. Fumbles the final items into the
bag. Walks away. Trying not to panic. Trying not to run.

He makes his way through the store. Blinking sweat. He bumps
into a lady's cart, mumbles an apology, keeps going. Breaks
into a trot.
                                                        121.


Down the aisle, cut to the left, through the door into the
back rooms, faster and faster, running now, slamming through
a door marked "Employees Only" into --

INT -- EMPLOYEE RESTROOM -- DAY

-- where he slams the door and leans heavily against it,
shutting everything out, breathing heavily. Alone now.

He goes to the sink, splashes his face, tries to calm down.
He can still hear them out there. They won't go away. He
glances around the restroom. Small. Not small enough.

He enters a stall. Locks the door. Puts the toilet lid down
and sits on the john. Better. He can actually reach out and
touch the walls now. They're close. Safe. Almost small
enough. He draws his feet up so he can't be seen if somebody
walks in.

He'll just sit here for a while. Until he calms down.

EXT -- STREET -- DUSK

Red is walking home.

                    RED (V.O.)
          There is a harsh truth to face. No
          way I'm gonna make it on the
          outside.

He pauses at a pawnshop window. An array of handguns.

                    RED (V.O.)
          All I do anymore is think of ways
          to break my parole.

The SHOPKEEPER appears at the glass, locking the door and
flipping the sign: CLOSED.

INT -- RED'S ROOM -- NIGHT

Red lies smoking in bed. Unable to sleep.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Terrible thing, to live in fear.
          Brooks Hatlen knew it. Knew it all
          too well. All I want is to be back
          where things make sense. Where I
          won't have to be afraid all the
          time.

He glances up at the ceiling beam. "Brooks Hatlen was here."
                                                     122.


                    RED (V.O.)
          Only one thing stops me. A promise
          I made to Andy.

EXT -- COUNTRY ROAD -- MORNING

A pickup truck rattles up the road trailing dust and pulls
to a stop. Red hops off the back, waves his thanks. The
truck

drives on. Red starts walking. PAN TO a roadside sign:
BUXTON.

EXT -- MAINE COUNTRYSIDE -- DAY

High white clouds in a blazing blue sky. The trees fiery
with autumn color. Red walks the fields and back-roads,
cheap compass in hand. Looking for a certain hayfield.

EXT -- COUNTRYSIDE -- DAY

Walking. Searching. The day turning late. Red finds himself
staring at a distant field. There's a long rock wall, like
something out o f a Robert Frost poem. Big oak tree. Red
checks his compass. North end. He crosses a dirt road into
the field.

EXT -- HAYFIELD -- DAY

Red walks the long rock wall, nearing the tree. A squirrel
scolds him from a low branch, scurries up higher. Red
studies the base of the wall. Nothing unusual here. Just a
bunch of rocks set in stone. He sighs. Fool's errand. Turns
to go.

Something catches his eye. He walks back, squats, peering
closer. Wets a fingertip and rubs a stone. A layer of dust
comes off. Volcanic glass. Gleaming black. He tries to get
the rock out, anticipation growing. It won't come; it's too
smooth. He pulls a pocketknife and levers the rock free. It
tumbles at his feet, leaving a ragged hole.

Red leans down and solves the mystery at last, staring at
the object buried under the rock. Stunned. It's an envelope
wrapped in plastic. Written on it is a single word: "Red."

Red pulls the envelope out and rises. He just stares at it
for a while, almost afraid to open it. But open it he does.
Inside is a smaller envelope and a letter. Red begins to
read:

                    ANDY (V.O.)
          Dear Red. If you're reading this,
          you've gotten out.
                    (MORE)
                                                     123.

                    ANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
          And if you've come this far, maybe
          you're willing to come a little
          further. You remember the name of
          the town, don't you? I could use a
          good man to help me get my project
          on wheels. I'll keep an eye out for
          you and the chessboard ready.
              (beat)
          Remember, Red. Hope is a good
          thing, maybe the best of things,
          and no good thing ever dies. I will
          be hoping that this letter finds
          you, and finds you well. Your
          friend. Andy.

By now, tears are spilling silently down Red's cheeks. He
opens the other envelope and fans out a stack of new fifty-
dollar bills. Twenty of them. A thousand dollars.

INT -- RED'S ROOM -- DAY (1967)

Red is dressed in his suit. He finishes knotting his tie,
puts his hat on. His bag is by the door. He takes one last
look around. Only one thing left to do. He pulls a wooden
chair to the center of the room and gazes up at the ceiling
beam.

                    RED (V.O.)
          Get busy living or get busy dying.
          That is goddamn right.

He steps up on the chair. It wobbles under his weight.

INT -- BREWSTER -- RED'S DOOR -- DAY (1967)

The door opens. Red exits with his bag and heads down the
stairs, leaving the door open. CAMERA PUSHES through,
BOOMING UP to the ceiling beam which reads: "Brooks Hatlen
was here."

A new message has been carved alongside the old: "So was
Red."

INT -- GREYHOUND BUS STATION -- DAY (1967)

TRACKING SHOT reveals a long line of people at the counter.

                    RED (V.O.)
          For the second time in my life, I
          am guilty of committing a crime.

CAMERA brings us to Red, next in line, bag by his feet.
                                                     124.


                    RED (V.O.)
          Parole violation. I doubt they'll
          toss up any roadblocks for that.
          Not for an old crook like me.

                    RED
              (steps up)
          McNary, Texas?

EXT -- TRAVELING SHOT -- DAY (1967)

A gorgeous New England landscape whizzes by, fields and
trees a blur of motion. ANGLE SHIFTS to reveal a Greyhound
Sceni- Cruiser barreling up the road, pulling abreast of us.
CAMERA TRAVELS from window to window, passing faces. We
finally come to Red gazing out at the passing landscape.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I find I am so excited I can barely
          sit still or hold a thought in my
          head. I think it is the excitement
          only a free man can feel, a free
          man at the start of a long journey
          whose conclusion is uncertain...

THE BUS

ROARS past camera, dwindling to a mere speck on the horizon.

                    RED (V.O.)
          I hope I can make it across the
          border. I hope to see my friend and
          shake his hand. I hope the Pacific
          is as blue as it has been in my
          dreams.
              (beat)
          I hope.

EXT -- BEACH -- WIDE PANORAMIC SHOT -- DAY (1967)

A distant boat lies on its side in the sand like an old
wreck that's been left to rot in the sun. There's someone
out there.

CLOSER ON BOAT

A MAN is meticulously stripping the old paint and varnish by
hand, face hidden with goggles and kerchief mask.

Red appears b.g., a distant figure walking out across the
sand, wearing his cheap suit and carrying his cheap bag.
                                                     125.


The man on the boat pauses. Turns slowly around. Red arrives
with a smile as wide as the horizon. The other man raises
his goggles and pulls down his mask. Andy, of course.

                    ANDY
          You look like a man who knows how
          to get things.

                    RED
          I'm known to locate certain things
          from time to time.

Red shrugs off his jacket and picks up a sander. Together,
they start sanding the hull as we

                                                FADE OUT

                          THE END
