The Bayou

The Bayou [Action/Adventure, Fantasy]
Synopsis: A teenaged boy treks deep into the Louisiana bayou, in search of anyone, or anything that could save his dying mother.

Start: Soft whirring of an antiquated movie projector accompanies a slow-moving reel of images that becomes the New Light Media logo. It lingers on screen before fading to black.

"Hush a bye, don't you cry," an old woman's tired voice croons over the black screen in lilting lullaby, sweet and gentle. "Go to sleep my little baby..."

A scene flickers to life; the interior of a small bedroom inside a cabin with old, feminine furnishings. The camera highlights over a skinny little thing of a woman in a bulky, intrusive hospital bed at the middle of the room. A IV bag slowly drips, her breathing haggard and slow.

A young boy sits with his head carefully rested on her chest as she runs her fingers through his hair with nothing short of a mother's love shining in her tired, barely open eyes.

"When you wake, you shall have, all the pretty little horses," she sings, her voice little more than a husk of a breath. The boy sniffles and wipes away his tear, but she shushes down at her son with a gentle smile.

Mama murmurs, "You've always loved that song, Judd," as he wraps his hands carefully around the middle of his ailing mother.

"Only when you sing it," he whispers in kind. The moments roll past and his mama's eyelids grow heavy until she drifts off into sleep.

He notices, then raises his wrist to look down at the analog face of his watch, and raises his head. Kissing her head gently, the boy cuts off the bedside lamp and quietly makes his way out of the room.

The scene shifts to an exterior shot of the family cabin at dusk. A large ancient cypress tree sits in the yard, covered in old moss. The long, grey, hairlike strands sway in the cool evening breeze.

Judd shoulders a light brown satchel and paces the yard, skimming over the property perimeter impatiently until a silhouette breaks away from the shadowy figures on the horizon.

A blonde boy not much older than him pedals up the dirt driveway on a rickety bicycle, coasting to a stop next to Judd.

"Where've you been, Sam!?" Judd hisses, fingers fisting against the straps of his satchel while the other hand wipes at his watery, puffy red eyes. "It's almost dark!"

The blonde frowns, noticing the state of his friend. "How is she?" he asks. Judd wipes his nose with his arm and shakes his head slowly.

Sam nods solemnly, shifting his weight against the seat of his bike. "Then let's go," he says.

Judd picks up his bike from the yard and the two boys peddle off into the early evening down the driveway. The camera follows after them as they zoom down the tiny road, racing against the descent of the setting sun. Locusts chirp and sing their summer song in the backgroud.

They eventually come to a stop at the end of a trail. Sam pedals closer to Judd, looking down at the watch on his wrist.

Judd looks over and says to the other boy, "It's too soon. It has to be tonight." He looks up to no avail, the canopy overhead too thick for even the faintest glimpse of sky to be seen.

Sam sighs, and nods. The two ditch their bikes and continue their trek on foot, slowly swallowed whole by the swamp.

A narrow view of dark, muddy grounds betwixt towering trees overtakes the next shot. The sound of sludgy rubber boots is all that can be heard next to the rhythmic, heavy breaths from both boys...

Lightning bugs, by the millions, sparkle through the trees like the stars themselves were within reaching distance. Sam stops in awe, breathlessly exclaiming, "Have you ever seen so many of them before?"

Curiously, Judd doesn't seem to notice the sight and continues ahead, determined. "How much closer?" he asks.

A beat. "We should be there any minute," Sam eventually calls. An undeterminate amount of time passes and the boys still continue ahead. Judd grows visibly impatient, checking his watch with sidelong glances of irritation at his friend.

Eventually, the tension breaks with another confrontation. "Sam, where are we?" Judd demands in frustration, whirling around to face his blonde friend. "We should've been there by now."

Sam pulls out an old compass from his pocket and checks their direction. "Go to the end of the trail, then head East about 2 miles..." he mutters to himself, reciting from memory.

He looks down ato the red arrow on his compass, pointing west. His eyes widen with alarm, grimacing as he realizes his mistake, "Shit! No, no!" he swears.

Judd cautiously looks to Sam. Warily, he asks, "What did you do?"

The blonde swallows hard, fear shadowing his eyes. "It's this damn compass!" he says defensively, waving the old thing around in his hand. "It showed East earlier, I swear it did!"

Judd's face grows red with fury. "Goddamn it, Sam! What have you done?!" He runs and tackles Sam to the ground, the two rolling throug the shallow waters of the swamp as they scuffle.

Suddenly, the cracking of an old screen door can be heard from somewhere off screen, followed by the booming voice of an old man, "WHO'S OUT THERE?!"

The two boys stop abruptly and look up, but not before Judd mushes Sam's face deeper into the mud. Neither of them speak first.

"I said, who's out there dammit!! I ain't afraid to shoot," the voice shouts again, followed by the sounds of a shotgun being cocked.

Sam struggles to shove Judd off him, scrambling to push himself up. "Please don't shoot, we're just turned around," he shouts in hasty explanation.

"You sound like you tryin' to kill each other," the voice booms back with a deep chuckle, the camera panning left to encompass a distant view of an old little cabin sat up on struts in the water. "C'mon up here, let's get yall out of that swamp."

The scene flashes to the interior of the cabin. Bottles of embalmed frogs, rabbits, and other small creatures lnie the termite-ridden shelves. Voodoo heads and offering candles accompany the odd furnishings.

A black man in his late 80s hunches over an old cane, strong but warped. He slowly steps into the light as the boys file in behind him, pushing shut the door, and revealing milky, hazed over eyes that renders him blind.

"What kin'na business y'all boys have out here at night?" he leans up against his cane, lecturing the boys sternly with a sightless stare in their direction. "This place ain't the same when the sun goes down, you know... The Devil's in these woods."

"Well, it doesn't matter -now-," An exasperated sigh passes Judd's lips as he flings a pointed look in the direction of Sam, whom looks down in embarrassment.

Sam kicks at the old floorboards underfoot with a booted foot, muttering, "... Fifolet."

The old man freezes at Sam's words. "What did you just say?" he asks sharply, his head cocked to a sharp tilt.

The blonde hesitates, looking between the old man and his friend. "My brother said he was out here one night and saw it, The Fifolet," he explains begrudgingly. "That beautiful glowing light, said it was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen... It spoke to him, he swears it."

The old man slowly shakes his head and sighs. "You boys ain't got no idea what you messin' with. Just mentioning that name around here..."

Judd quickly interjects, "So it's real then?" His eyes light up with hope, swiveling a look between Sam and the old man.

"Of course it's real," Old Man raises his voice in annoyance.

Judd asks, "How can we find it then??"

Old Man leans forward against his cane, bringing his face down level with Judd's. "There ain't no "it" son... Fiofolet are everywhere..." He gestures around him with a gnarled old hand. "All throughout this bayou, and if'n you ain't careful, you gon' get yourself into a situation you don't want to be in. You see Fifolet, you run AWAY from it. Not TO it!"

Sam's flaxen brows knit in confusion, slowly shaking his head and opening his mouth in interjection, "But my brother always said..."

The man cuts him off, frustrated, "Well your brother was wrong dammnit!" He swears, gesturing with his cane out toward the windows. "Fifolet are evil things! Leading you in the swamp, to M'su Diable himself!"

A slow smile of confidence grows on Sam's face. "We aren't afraid of no Devil! See, we came prepared." He reaches to the collar of his shirt and pulls out a tiny mirror trinket hanging around his neck. It glistens in the light.

"Devils can't cross no mirror," Sam says smugly.

The old man tisks and shakes his head. "Son, don't tempt the M'su," he warns in the gravest of tones. "I've had enough of this tonight. I'll get you some flashlights and a map, but it's time y'all leave."

The old man gets up and slowly hobbles off into a back room off-shot, leaving Judd and Sam to both sit in awkward silence on an old couch.

Just then, a lightning bug flies into the nearby window, and repeatedly taps the glass pane. It grabs Sam's attention and he quickly walks over for a closer look.

Suddenly, a second light shows up. Then a third, fourth, and fifth. They dance in the night, their lights flickering softly. Sam is seduced by the display, mesermized, his smile lighting up his whole face.

He looks back, waving frantically at Judd, "Judd look! The fireflies, they're back!"

Judd looks up from his lap and then over to Sam, his expression one of confusion. As though switching points of views, the shot pans back from over the brunette boy's shoulder to reveal nothing but darkness beyond the window.

"What?" he asks, scrunching his nose up. "What fireflies?"

Sam, in euphoric rapture, can't take his eyes off the window. He preses his face deeper against the glass, tapping his finger against it lightly. "The fireflies, right here, look!"

Beyond the window, through his perception, thousands of fireflies light up the swampy grounds; a veritable sea of stars winking in the night. "There's thousands of them," he proclaims.

Judd's frustration only grows, slowly pushing to the edge of his seat. "Sam," he hisses. "What fireflies?!" But rather than answer, Sam darts from the window and towards the front door. He flings the screen door open and rushes out onto the porch.

Alarmed, Judd shoots up from his seat to run toward the open doorway. "Sam?!" he calls after his friend who runs out into the pitch black swamp.

Millions of little lights dance about Sam, and illuminate the swamp perfectly. They leave little trails similar to stardust behind a meteor as they swirl around him. And all the while, the blonde boy laughs joyously as he twirls around.

But that is not reality; from the porch of the cabin, Judd stands in the doorway, watching anxiously as Sam twirls in and out of the dark swamp.

Suddenly, the locust’s hum, and cricket’s chirping fall completely silent. Sam, and the swamp sit eerily still. Tension of suspense builds with a dissonant sweep of violin strings rising in the background.

It all comes to a head when the silhouette of the old man appears behind Judd. "I can save your Momma, boy," he grates out.

All color drains from the brunette boy's face, turning him pallid white. Judd spins around to look up at the old black man. His once milked over eyes are now black, soulless voids. Cane abandoned, and his once stooped over posture now solid and upright, making him appear all the larger to the boy.

An almost nauseated look overcomes Judd's expression, warring with the cold fear of realization.

"M-M'su Diable," Judd stutters out, voice trembling. He instinctively grabs hold of the mirror trinket resting around his neck, lurching back.

The old man throws his head back with a rich laugh, deep and booming as it echoes through the night. "I can save her. Take all her pain away, give you both the normal life you once held so dear. It can come back to you, son."

The old man begins to walk toward Judd, but the boy jumps and holds his mirrored necklace out in front of him. Old Man stops, a slow smile spreading over his lips. Amused.

Nervously, Judd begins to backpedal away from the old man, down the porch. "S-Sam?" he calls back into the dark behind him, "C'mon, we're leaving!"

Sam doesn't respond from his euphoric trance at Judd's call. The brunette's features tighten, panic setting in. "Sam!!"

The old man's voice begins to lower, almost mockingly cooing a lullaby all too familiar to the boy. "Hush a bye, don't you cry, go to sleep my little baby..."

Judd is brought to a jerky stop, tears welling up in his eyes as he stares with horror at the old man who only continues singing, "When you wake, you shall have, all the pretty little horses..."

The black-eyed old man says solemnly, "She won't last the night, son."

Judd's hands begin to shake uncontrollably, fisting his fingers and wiping away the tears streaking his face. "W-What do I have to do?" he asks, finally, broken; his shoulders slump, head hung low.

The old man moves to stand beside the deflated boy, his smile all too bright and charming. "The way I see it, a trade is only as good as what you're gettin'," he says idly, gesturing. "I think a life for a life sounds about right."

Judd's eyes grow wide as saucers, jerking back to look up at the old man. "My life," he utters, almost inaudibly, to himself. "For hers?"

The old man shakes his head slowly. "Not your life..." he trails, lifting a hand to point out into the yard at the entranced Sam.

"His," he declares ardently. "Been trying to get to him for months now, but that damned mirror keeps me away." He turns a depthless, vanta-black look down on the boy at his side. "Won't keep you away though."

Judd's shoulders slump for the umpteenth time with a heavy sigh, deliberating over the options at hand. The old man sees the hesitation, nagging in a sing-song, "Not much time, Judd. She's in pain..."

The old man gesture over to an axe propped up on the porch railing. Judd stares at it vacantly, resigned to his choice. He closes his eyes and takes in a determined breath, grabbing hold of the weapon.

Looking between it and his entranced friend out in the yard, Judd solemnly begins to descend down the steps. Angles drift in a backward pan to follow his path across the muddy swamp yard, hiking up his axe in preparation to strike the blonde boy whom he'd known all his life.

The scene abruptly cuts to black.

Credits roll, titling young actors in the positions they played alongside the production team.