| (Return to Scenes 18-36.) 37. INT. GOLD DOLPHIN - BRIDGE - LATE AFTERNOON The Gold Dolphin moves offshore along the rocky cliffs leading to Cabo’s signature arches.  (Land's End) The Gold Dolphin's ENGINES RUMBLE SOFTLY. Roberto and Mona sit at the controls in deeply padded leather chairs. 
(Photo courtesy Gentry Eagle.) ROBERTO Señorita Deering, please forgive me for intruding, but when you came aboard, I saw tears in your eyes. Do you have a problem? MONA ”De nada, mi Capitan. De nada.” The yacht passes Lovers’ Beach, clears the rocky point, turns westerly into the sun low on the horizon. MONA (continues) Where are we going, Hawaii or San Diego? ROBERTO Patience, you will see. 38. EXT. AT SEA - SOUTH OF CABO FALSO - SUNSET The Gold Dolphin parallels the shore -- 
-- and clears Cabo Falso. The sun dips below the horizon. 39. INT. GOLD DOLPHIN - BRIDGE Roberto and Mona sit at the controls. ROBERTO Did you see the green flash? MONA No. And neither did you. No one ever sees the green flash. ROBERTO One never knows when it may appear in some magical sunset. You must have faith and keep looking. As the light dims, Roberto turns to Mona. ROBERTO (continues) Would you like to take the helm, señorita? Mona laughs with delight, reaches for the dual wheel. 
(Photo courtesy Gentry Eagle.) ROBERTO (continues) Now increase speed to fifty knots. MONA Aye, aye, “mi Capitan.” Mona gingerly advances the throttles. ENGINES ROAR. The yacht leaps forward, skimming over the sea. A huge rooster tail rises astern, ghostly in the dying light. MONA Oh, my God. “Fantastico.” ROBERTO Now, very smoothly, make a slow, sweeping 180 degree turn to port. MONA gingerly rotates the wheel. The Dolphin, its hull vibrating as it banks and skids in its turn, responds. As the turn nears completion, Mona cautiously counter-rotates the wheel, centering it as she reaches a 90 degree heading. MONA Like flying a plane, but scary, on the edge. ROBERTO If there are any seas or you over-control, it can be deadly. MONA And you let me do it? Roberto laughs. MONA (continues) But why are we now heading east? ROBERTO I just wanted to show you the sunset and, perhaps, the green flash. 
(A rare shot of the Green Flash, courtesy Latitude 38) MONA Aw, I’ll bet you tell that to all the girls. 40. EXT. CABO DE LOS FRAILES - MORNING Gold Dolphin approaches the beach on the south side of Punta Frailes, stops in the shadow of the enormous pile of granite. 
(Photo courtesy Hotel Bajia Frailes) 41. INT. GUEST STATEROOM GOLD DOLPHIN 
(What girl wouldn't sleep well in this gorgeous stateroom? Photo courtesy Gentry Eagle.) Mona sleeps, her body outlined by a sheet. Awakened by the RATTLING ANCHOR CHAIN, Mona scrambles out of bed.  (Mona's morning wake-up stretch?) 42. INT. BRIDGE Mona enters as Roberto shuts the engines down. MONA What's going on? ROBERTO Enrique caught a dorado. How about a beach barbecue tonight? 
(Enrique's dorado? Courtesy Rick Strand} MONA Wonderful. Where are we? ROBERTO Come with me. 43. EXT. GOLD DOLPHIN - FORE DECK Roberto and Mona enter the open deck. The Frailes rock looms over them. ROBERTO (continues) Look. To the right edge, lower sector. 
On the easterly outline of the gigantic volcanic plug, silhouetted against the morning sky, a cowled figure appears to crawl up the face of the rock. MONA Oh, wonderful. I've heard of it. "Cabo de Los Frailes!" Cape of the Friars. ROBERTO The brothers. MONA Imagine, over four hundred years ago. Spanish galleons anchored where we are now, sheltered from the north winds and seas. ROBERTO And English and Dutch pirates, waiting to pounce on Spanish galleons laden with the treasure of the Orient. 44. INT. GOLD DOLPHIN - MAIN DECK AFT - SUNSET Roberto and Mona board the tender where Enrique, Ricardo and Tomas sit with containers of food, drinks and ice covering a glistening green and gold fish. The ROAR of OUTBOARD MOTORS breaks the quiet. ROBERTO Look, Ramona. Two pangas race directly at the beach. The drivers CUT the POWER and tilt their huge outboard motors, raising the props. The pangas slide high onto the dry sand. 45. EXT. BEACH - NIGHT The remnants of a large fish hang on a spit over a dying fire. Roberto half-reclines on a blanket, softly STRUMS a GUITAR. Mona and the Three Crewmen stand in a loose arc around the fire across from Roberto, drinks in their hands. The men watch Mona, half smiles on their faces. Mona LAUGHS. Roberto strikes a CHORD, commences a FIERY FLAMENCO. Mona begins to dance. Crewmen form a loose circle around her, CLAP their hands to the BEAT of the music. The guitar MUSIC becomes WILDER. MINOR KEYS and DISSONANCES creep in. Mona's dance becomes more abandoned. The three Crewmen pick up BEACH ROCKS, CLASH them to the music’s beat. Their circle around Mona becomes smaller, their faces rigid. In the flickering firelight, the men loom over her. The MUSIC STOPS. The dancers freeze. Crewmen, raw desire on their faces, stare at Mona. Mona, face flushed with the excitement of the dance, slowly turns, facing each of them questioningly, then defiantly. She looks at Roberto, her question to him unspoken. Roberto studies the group impassively, shadows from the dimming fire slanting darkly across his face, lend an evil cast to his hooded eyes. Does he nod approvingly? Shrug indifferently? Mona stares at Roberto, first uncomprehendingly, then with disbelief, then with stiffening resolve. Ignoring Crewmen, she glances toward the fish camp, the sea, the motor yacht, then back to Roberto. Suddenly Mona pulls off her shirt and sarong and defiantly throws them at Roberto, leaving herself attired in bra and bikini. Roberto, his face still impassive, leans backward on his elbow. Enrique moves toward Mona. ENRIQUE Now, “puta,” you're gonna get yours. Mona goes into a half-crouch, her arms raised defensively. Enrique seizes her wrists. With a quick downward thrust of her fists, Mona breaks his grip. ENRIQUE (continues) Holy Mother! The bitch broke my thumbs. Enrique, in pain, massages his thumbs. Tomas moves toward Mona, follows her warily as she backs away. Enrique and Ricardo move to block her escape. Tomas lunges for her. Mona launches a whirling kick that takes Tomas’ legs out from under him, dives into the surf, swims toward the Dolphin. Crewmen rush in after her. When Crewmen are well past the surf line, Mona submerges. 46. EXT. UNDERWATER - MONA P.O.V. Mona swims underwater back toward the beach. As she passes under each struggling man, she rakes his exposed belly with her nails, yanks on his swim trunks. 47. EXT. WATER SURFACE The confused Crewmen flounder, gasp for air. 48. EXT. BEACH Mona emerges from the surf, runs to the tender, struggles to drag it to the water. Roberto sits up, watches. Crewmen straggle ashore, run toward Mona. Roberto relaxes as Mona drops the tender. She dodges the onrushing Crewmen. Races down the beach toward the Mexican fish camp fire, Crewmen in hot pursuit. Roberto reclines on his blanket, stares at the fire. As Mona nears the fish camp, SIX MEXICAN FISHERMEN leap to their feet, move toward her. Mona scrambles up the steep bank, pauses as Crewmen and Fishermen glare at each other. ENRIQUE “La cochina es mio.” MONA “Chinga su puñito.” Tomas, Ricardo and Mexican Fisherman LAUGH. Enrique, SCREAMING madly, scrambles up the embankment. ENRIQUE “Ayeee. Pinche puta.” Mona waits calmly. As Enrique reaches the top she kicks him in the head, tumbling him down the slope. MONA “Vaya su madre, chico.” The three crewmen scramble up the bank. As they near the top, Mona takes off, races along the top of the bank back toward Roberto and the looming rock. Enrique and Ricardo run along the top of the bank. Tomas angles down the bank and runs on the hard sand, threatening to cut Mona off if she tries to return to the water. Mona stops above Roberto, looks down at him. Roberto, his back to her, stares into the flickering fire. Mona looks into the darkness of the brush, starts to run toward the huge pile of granite, trips, tumbles to the beach below. Mona lies dazed, helpless. The crewmen loom over her, breathing heavily, their faces contorted with lust. Tomas and Ricardo squat to pin her. Enrique starts to pull down his shorts - - * * * Hey! Don't stop now! Sorry, there are some things the kiddies shouldn't see. 
Aboard New Horizons, nee Rocking Chair, Roger and Lew plan the production of Loose Ends. (Photo courtesy of Tokiko.) That's all you get today, folks. Gotta save something for that old box office. Let us know if you'd like to see this one up on the silver screen, photographed in the brilliant sunshine and clear air of Cabo San Lucas and the Mexican Pacific Gold Coast. Oh, those sunsets! Heather Nicole, Director * * * What do professional script analysts have to say about Loose Ends? See Kudos. | 
