Departure

- ACT 1 -

Title and credits to run on top of opening scene. Music: Peter Paul & Mary - “Leaving on A Jet
Plane” Song fades out, fade in airport PA recorded message” “ The white zone is for passenger loading and unloading only...”

Steve gets out of a dented airport shuttle and walks behind, where the driver hands him a
medium-sized duffel bag and a heavy denim coat. He clumsily reaches into his pocket while trying
to hold onto the bag, manages to hand the driver the fare and tip.

The driver takes the money and half-salutes him: “Thanks man, good luck on your trip!”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

Steve walks into the terminal through a broken automatic door that is wedged open with a piece of
folded cardboard. He looks up at a flickering video screen displaying departures and heads towards the gate. He approaches the metal detector and puts the bag on the conveyor. An angry looking black woman wearing a Discount Pacific Airlines jacket and tight spandex slacks grabs the bag off the conveyor. She shoves it into a box marked “Maximum Carry-On Size”.

The bag sticks up over the top about two inches.

The woman shoves the bag back at him: “Sorry sir, this is over the allowable size. You’ll have to
check it.”

Steve pushes the bag back: “Come on, it’s only a couple inches! Can’t you give me a break?”

The woman looks behind her, and a tall muscular man with a shaved head and a goatee wearing a
Discount Pacific polo shirt walks up, stands next to her and looks at him as if studying an
insect he is about to crush. “Is there a problem here?”

Steve: “No, no problem sir.” He takes his bag and walks dejectedly back down the staircase.

Steve shuffles towards the baggage check-in. He notices a sleepy looking Hispanic man pushing
a baggage cart loaded with packages wrapped in brown paper past him. A muffled voice off camera
shouts: "Hey Francisco, when you finish unloading that Fayed needs some help out on the ramp.
And don't go sneakin' off for another one of your "smoke breaks" either.”

"Sure, Mister Pavel, heh-heh. Whatever you say, Senior`."

As Steve approaches the counter a bored looking overweight bleach-blonde with a phone pressed to
her ear looks up. "Keep your pants on, honey. I'll be right back." she says into the receiver, then she pushes the hold button on the phone. "Welcome to Discount Pacific, what can I do you for?" she says, leering at
Steve.

"I've got a ticket for the 6:30 flight to Denver. I wanted to take this bag as carry-on, but I guess I'vegot to check it. The woman said it was too big." Steve says, handing her the bag.

"Too big? That's what all you guys say." she quips. "Any drugs, firearms, explosives or other
contraband in the bag?" she continues, taking the bag from him. He notices she is extending
her left hand toward him, palm up, as if expecting a tip or a bribe.

"Uh, no. Nothing illegal. Just socks and underwear. The usual stuff." Steve says.

"OK sir, one bag to Denver." She pastes a torn sticker on the bag.

"Uh, I really didn't want to check that bag, but they said I had to. Can you please be sure that it
doesn't get lost? I'm only going to be in Denver for a few days to visit my brother and I..."

"Sure, mister." She says, cutting him off. "Hey Francisco!" She shouts, throwing the bag through an opening behind the counter. "This guy is really worried about his precious little bag of socks and underwear getting to Denver. Please be real careful and make sure that it doesn't get lost, OK honey?"

Voice from the back: "OK Miss Evans, I'll take real good care of it, heh-heh-heh."

"You still here?" the woman asks, looking blankly at Steve.

"Uh, I guess I'm all set then, right?" he asks.

"Yeah, and you'd better hurry, or they'll sell your seat to someone else! Just kidding. Thank you forchoosing Discount Pacific, enjoy your flight." she says, dismissing him.

As Steve shuffles off towards the gate, the blonde picks up her phone and pushes the button. " You still there sweetie? OK, what do I look like? Well, I've got long hair, and I'm wearing a black teddy, and I'm lying on my satin sheets just waiting for you to..."

Fade voice and zoom camera out to show the overall terminal area. There is a young Hispanic man sitting with his wife on the floor in the corner next to their "luggage" consisting of two duct-taped cardboard boxes and a few plastic grocery sacks for carry-on. The woman is breast-feeding a baby. Steve shuffles past them, glancing at his watch to avoid making eye contact.

- ACT 2 -

Steve walks through the metal detector and sets off the alarm. He stops and reaches into his
pocket, pulling out a ring full of keys. "These must've set it off." he says, handing them to the clerk while turning to go back through the detector."

Nah, don't bother, here's you keys, go on through." the clerk says. "People are always setting that damned thing off. The guy's supposed to come out and look at it next week."

"OK, thanks." Steve says. He continues on his way.

He approaches the counter by the gate, reaches into his pocket. A twenty-something clerk
sporting a nose ring pulls off a set of headphones and looks up from behind the counter.

"I need to get my boarding pass." Steve says, handing him his tickets.

"These aren't regular tickets". the clerk says. "They're written by hand. I can't even read 'em. Where'd you get these?"

"I bought them here at the airport last week."

The clerk eyes him somewhat suspiciously. “All right, dude. I’ll punch in the code and check them
out."...

"Hey, you're here a little early, aren't you? The flight to Seattle doesn't leave until nine-thirty." the clerk says, handing him a boarding pass.

"Seattle? That's not right, I bought tickets to fly to Denver!"

"No, it says right here on the screen Mister Iglesias, this ticket is for Seattle."

"My name's not Iglesias, and I'm not going to Seattle!"

"Hey, cool down, dude! Check it out, I'm not making this up." The confused clerk says.

Steve walks behind the counter and looks at the screen. "You've got the wrong letter in
here. It's supposed to be TBTGTZ, not TDTGTZ!"

The clerk fixes the typo and the correct information pops up on the screen. "Allright, It
worked!" he says, handing over a new boarding pass. "Have a nice flight, mister
Welthy... Hey, I bet if you really were wealthy you'd be flying in a private jet instead of hanging around here, huh ?"

"Yeah, you're probably right." Steve says, having heard the joke many times before.

Steve wanders off to look out the window and sees an aging gray and red 737 with black jet-smoke
marks on the wings taxiing toward the terminal. He notices that the Hispanic baggage clerk he had
seen earlier is now out on the ramp talking to a man wearing a turban. The clerk picks up a box
marked "Oxygen Canisters" and stacks it on the cart. The man with the turban crosses out the
word "Flammable" on the box and hand-writes "Emptey" with a thick black marker. The Hispanic man picks up a second box, and they repeat the procedure. "That's just great." Steve says to himself while shaking his head, as he takes a seat on a cracked vinyl bench next to the
window. He picks up a coffee-stained tabloid that someone has left behind and leafs through it to kill time.

The headline on page three catches his attention: "John Denver Killed While Flying Without License". The article went on how John's pilot's license was suspended because of his drunken driving conviction a few years earlier. "Damned stupid people." Steve thinks to himself. "Sure, he got busted for a DUI a few years ago, and I know what that's like. But that's not why the plane went down. People are such morons. Like that time when the woman up north walked into the courtroom and shot that guy who'd gotten away with molesting her son. She was a local heroine until blood tests revealed she was using amphetamines, then they all turned against her. Heroes can't have any vices, can't be human. If they show any weaknesses people attack them like rabid pit bulls.”

"I never noticed before, but John Denver did influence my life quite a bit.” Steve continues thinking. “Hearing his songs on the radio when I was growing up first put the idea of moving to Colorado in my head. The idea of sitting around a campfire up in the mountains passing around a pipe and a jug of wine with friends was quite appealing to me back then. I never was a big fan, though. Was more into Zeppelin and the Dead at the time. But I did end up checking out Colorado, and eventually moving there, and from there to California a few years later. So I guess John Denver has helped to make me who I am today. Without him I might still be living in my old house on Pearl Street, getting fat and
hanging out at Leo's Bar, shooting pool after work." He chuckles to himself. And other than seeing him in that “Oh God” movie with George Burns a while back, I’ve never even thought about John Denver all these years...”


"Too damned bad about the crash, though.” He continues thinking. “I bet the guy who sold him the plane really feels like hell. Kinda like I felt after Goldie got killed on his bike. He got interested in riding right after I bought that second-hand Yamaha. Went out and bought himself a new Virago, then got taken out by a damned tourist who made a left turn in front of him. Course, I bet the guywho hit him really felt like shit, too...
Just bad luck though, an accident. Some people think it’s fate, I think it’s random, just the luck of the draw. Most people think they'll die of old age, so they don't think about it much when they're younger. And for a lot of them it works out that way. Until tragedy strikes, someone you know closely dies young. Then it's like a tap on the shoulder from the old Grim Reaper: "Hey buddy, remember me? I can take you too, whenever I want.”
“You get no guarantees, just gotta make each day count, I guess..."

"Flight 121 to Denver is now boarding all passengers..." a voice on the intercom says, waking Steve from his reverie. He picks up his coat and walks slowly towards the line at the gate.

"Have a nice flight." The agent says as she takes his boarding pass.

“Thanks.”

- ACT 3 -

Inside the airborne plane. Voice on the intercom: “Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned off the fasten seat belt sign, which means that you are free to move about the cabin. Enjoy your flight, and thank you for choosing Discount Pacific.”

A stewardess approaches: “Something to drink?”

“Could I get a Bud?” He asks.

Steve pays for the drink, pops open the can, takes a sip. “Warm beer, it figures.” He leans back and closes his eyes, trying to relax: “What a week. That project at work is killing me! Be nice to kick back in Colorado with Charlie for a few days, just to relax...” He falls into a light sleep.

Steve is awakened some time later because the aircraft is shaking. The fasten seatbelt sign lights up as a voice comes over the intercom: “Ladies and gentlemen we are experiencing a little turbulence, please return your seats to the upright position and fasten your seatbelts.”

The shaking rapidly gets worse. Suddenly, there is a loud BANG! and the plane leans sharply to the
left, sending cups and food trays flying across the cabin. The plane begins to plunge violently
downward. “A frantic voice is shouting something unintelligible on the intercom, overpowered by the
screams of the passengers.

Steve is surprised at his own reaction to the events. He is more disgusted and angry with himself than afraid. “Funny, you’d think I’d be scared shitless, howling with the rest of them. Instead I’m thinking about some dumb Alanis Morisette song about the guy who finally faces his fear of flight and gets on a plane that then crashes. “Heh, Isn’t it ironic?”... “I shoulda paid a few extra bucks and booked a flight with United or Delta or someone else with better planes, dammit!”

Fade camera, sound of whining of aircraft picking up speed in the plunge as Steve blacks out.

- ACT 4 -

Scene: Steve rising to a sitting position as if awakening, on a small hill surrounded by mountains.
There are golden aspen trees on the edge of a meadow. He rubs his eyes, looks around. “What,
where am I? How did I get here? ... Wait, I remember, I was in that plane, I must’ve been thrown clear!”

“No, that’s impossible. There’s no way...”

The realization hits him: “I guess I’m dead... Boy, is Annie gonna be pissed at me!”

“I wonder what happens next? Shit, I’m an atheist, I never did believe in all that afterlife stuff...”

Steve looks around, sees an old man wearing black rimmed glasses and smoking a cigar walking
towards him. “Hey, I know you! You’re George Burns!” Then Steve thinks, and says somewhat
sheepishly “You’re not God, are you?”

The old man chuckles “Nah, I’m just George.”

“So, why am I seeing you?”

“Well, somebody has to be here to meet the new arrivals, show them the ropes. Since you were
thinking about me in that old movie before the crash, I decided to volunteer for the job.”

“What about all the other people on my plane. Where are they?”

“This is a really big place here Steve. In fact you could say it goes on forever. The people who set up the rules think it works out better if you just meet up with one or two people to start with, until you get used to things.”

“So what’s next? Do I get a harp to play or something?”

“Only if you want one. Do you?”

“Not really.”

“Well, I’ve got a bridge date. I’m going to leave you with a friend of mine who’s a little closer to your age. See you around, Steve.” George fades out into a cloud of smoke while puffing on his cigar.

A blonde haired middle-aged man with a guitar slung across his back is walking up the hill. “Hey
Steve, how’s it going?”

“John Denver? Hey, nice to meet you!” Steve says, shaking his hand. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, pretty well, considering...”

“So, are you here because I was thinking about you too?”

“Yeah, figured I could help a fellow crash victim out a little.”

“So, do you and George hang out together up here?”

“Not really. I Just happened to run into him at dinner tonight. He was the one that suggested we go out and meet you.”

“So will Goldie will be along next because I was thinking of him too?”

“’Fraid not, Steve. You see, you can spend as much time as you want here resting up but
eventually you do have to go back. Goldie had enough rest so he went back a while ago. Right now he’s a three year old boy living in a small town in Wisconsin and he doesn’t remember a thing about his past life. And that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“What about going back to finish the life I was in? There’s a lot I’d still like to do.”

“That’s the first thing a lot of people ask when they get here. But this isn’t like some old movie
where you get to make a wish and you wake up and it never happened and your neighbors are all
giving you a basket full of money. This is real life here, or I guess I should say real death.”

“Hasn’t anybody ever been given a chance to go back?”

“Not since I’ve been here, but someone who has been here a while told me it happens once in a while, when they make a mistake, mess up the paperwork or something. George already checked out your profile, though, ‘cause he knew you’d be asking that. Everything’s in order, and you’ve got no special reason to be allowed to go back. The only thing you can hope for is that someone
important on that flight wasn’t supposed to die yet. Then the whole plane just might be spared, if it’s easier to fix it that way. Well, I got to get moving. Just follow that path over there whenever you’re ready, it’ll take you to the main gate. Take care, Steve. See you around.”

“Bye, John. And thanks for the help.”

Steve walks down the path a ways. “Man, I’m getting so tired.” he says to himself. “Think I’ll just lie down on the grass here and rest a bit. After all, I’m in no hurry. Got all the time in the world....”

- ACT 5 -

Steve opens his eyes hearing a voice: “Ladies and gentlemen, we are now approaching Denver International Airport. It’s a clear night in Denver, temperature is thirty seven degrees. We should be arriving at the gate in oh, about fifteen minutes.”

Steve opens his eyes wide, looking around the plane, amazed. Then he shakes his head slightly, a
small smile on his face. “Nah, couldn’t have been...”

Fade in music: John Denver “Back Home Again” as the plane lands and stops.

Steve gets out of his seat, grabs his coat and leaves the plane. His brother walks up to him in the terminal, smiling, and claps him on the back in greeting. The two of them shake hands, talking, and turn to walk towards the baggage claim.

Roll credits as the two of them walk off.

- End-