BITTER SMOKE

by

Alexandre Trudeau

© Same Adventure Productions 2016

1. EXT. DEEP FOREST - WINTER NIGHT

Bare tree trunks are black against white snow. A faint amber
glow moves through the forest. It is a smouldering torch
carried by a huddled form. A WOMAN advances on snowshoes. She
is panting faintly. Each steps whooshes as it settles into
heavy snow.

Arriving in a small clearing, she plants the torch down in

the snow and grabs something from inside her cloak. She
scatters it over the glowing torch.

A faint sizzle then a crackle followed by busy bright flames.

She smiles briefly in the dancing light then recoils in
disgust as the bitter smoke reaches her. She is in her early
twenties but looks older with hollow cheeks and dark lines
under her eyes. A sad beauty.

She gets to work clearing snow from some young evergreens.

Then she gets down on her knees, digging fast and carefully
around something in the saplings. Soon she has cleared a
trap.

She is panting heavily now and takes a moment to catch her

breath. Then she grows quiet as she fondles some fur
trimmings from her collar. Once magnificent, they are ragged
now.

WOMAN
(softly)
Wabooz. Niineta. Gishiime.
(Hare. It’s me. Little sister.)

She inspects her noose to make sure it slides easily.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
Nikedam gaazo. Daga ondaashaan.
Ninaadamawaa. Niinaadamawaa.
(I know you’re hiding. But please
come out. I need your help. We
really need your help.)

She is watched through the dark trees.

2. EXT. WIGWAM - NIGHT

A small wigwam deep in the forest. A thin plume of smoke

rises from its top opening. A reddish glow can be seen
through its bark seams.

A child’s voice from within-

 2.

BOY (O.S.)
(crying)
Nimaama! Nimaama!
(Mummy! Mummy!)

The woman arrives in the clearing around the wigwam and calls
out to the boy inside-

WOMAN
Gego babaamenim, Kitchi. Nimaama
niwe.
(It’s alright, Kitchi. Mummy’s
back.)

She removes her snowshoes near the entrance.

BOY(O.S.)
(wimpering)
Aandi giin?
(Where were you?)

WOMAN
Nimaama gawessa nibaa.
Ninaadagoodoo.
(Couldn’t sleep. Was out checking
the traps.

BOY (O.S.)
Nimbakade, nimaama.
(I’m hungry, mummy.)

WOMAN
Nikedam. Geniin, Kitchi.
Nimaadizekwe.
(I know. Me too, Kitchi. Try and
sleep. There will be something for
breakfast.)

She pauses for a long moment.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
Nadaaw imbaaba babiinzikawaagan.
(Get your father’s coat.)

3. INT. WIGWAM - NIGHT

Seated beside the fire, she has the man’s tunic in her hands.
With a clam shell, she’s slicing through the seams of the fur
collar to remove it from the moosehide.

Once released, she holds the collar up to admire her

handiwork, how it once splayed out over the shoulders of the
tunic. She puts it down with care, then looking at it--
 3.

WOMAN
Noos ma’iingan, miikawaadad
waabishkadowe apigwayawegwaajigan,
daga naabem giiyosewinini ondaas?
(Papa Wolf, who helped me make this
collar so beautiful, can you please
tell the husband who caught you to
come back?)

She touches her own hair. It’s dry and brittle. Frowning, she
clutches a bunch of it and shears through it with the shell,
casting it into a basket with disgust.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
Ma’iingan, dibaajimotaw niinizisan
aakomaagwad zaka'amaw? En’ ma’iigan
giwaabishkadowe. Dibaajimotawiin
Ahanu!
(Wolf, can you tell him that my
long hair will now be bitter smoke
as it feeds the fire? Oh yes wolf,
your beautiful fur too. You tell
Ahanu!)

With the shell, she scrapes the thick fur from the collar and
puts into the basket. Then over her shoulder, the boy coughs
with difficulty.

At the sight of her gaunt child’s face appearing among the

covers, the woman is almost overcome with emotion but she
pulls herself together for him.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
(doing her best to smile)
Kitchi, wiiba naboob ashwii.
(Kitchi, food is almost ready.)

She finds her shell blade again, picks it up and touches its
dull edge with displeasure.

She leans to fetch a small lidded container of stitched

porcupine quills. She strokes her mother’s handiwork but
deplores how badly worn the container has become. Inside
there are more clam shells alongside some other sundries. She
carefully picks a shell out and examines it. A sliver of
dried tendon sticks to its hinge. She sucks it off hungrily.
Hoping for more scraps, she rummages madly through the other
shells. None.

She puts the basket down trembling. Takes a breath, then

gently slides the shell through her mouth to feel its edge
with her tongue.
 4.

Using both hands, she holds the shell’s curved edge against a
smooth rock by the fire and patiently grinds it to a sharp
blade, spitting on it for lubrication.

She folds the strip of hide along its edge. Inserting the
sharpened shell into the fold, she slices off a long piece of
leather. Then folds the ribbon of hide and cuts off small
pieces, tossing them into a birchbark pot of boiling liquid
by the fire.

Sitting still for a moment, she can hear the wind outside.
She looks at a crack in the bark roof above and grabs some
loose fur to stuff into the gaps, then settles back down.

CUT TO:

The light is dim. She lies between her child and the dying
fire. She rises slightly to push the tip of a biggish log
into the embers with a foot.

A faint yelp from outside.

She rises to listen.

She smiles: an animal indeed cries in the distance, caught in

one of her snares.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
Wabooz! Gimikanniin!
(Hare! You found me!)

She tosses some pine needles on the fire for light.

As if with new energy, she grabs once more her tattered cloak
from the litter, drapes it over her shoulders, then picks up
a smouldering log from the fire, stuffs a big handful of
loose fur into her tunic and crouches to whisper to her boy
before heading out.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
Kitchi, wabooz niitagwen. Gaween
gabaya'ii.
(Kitchi, just fetching the hare
from the snare. I won’t be long.)

BOY
(weakly)
Mino nimaama.
(Okay mama.)
 5.

4. EXT. OUTSIDE OF THE WIGWAM - NIGHT

Her fire stick planted in the snow beside her, she finishes
lashing up her second snowshoe. She picks up her torch,
locates the plaintive cries again and heads towards them.

WOMAN
(almost singing)
Wabooz, gishiime izhaa.
(Hare, your sister’s coming.)

5. EXT. FOREST - NIGHT

She pauses in the forest. The animal cries are getting

louder. She keeps moving towards them.

CUT TO:

Sliding around a pine tree and over some snow-covered debris,

she nears the trapped animal. But there is suddenly a loud
yelp, a snap and then silence. She hurries on.

CUT TO:

She slows as she nears her snare. All is quiet. A light snow
has begun to fall. She grabs a handful of loose fur from her
tunic and sprinkles it onto the smouldering log. She holds
the log far from her head as it billows out a pungent and
disagreeable smoke, then flares up.

In the bright light, her snare is clearly empty, but there is

fresh blood in the snow and man tracks all over the place.
They lead off into the forest.

Pursing her lips, she follows them at a hurried pace.

CUT TO:

The snow is falling harder. She reaches a small clearing and

spots some bloodied animal remains.

A little further, she can make out a MAN in the twilight.

She begins moving towards him angrily, then stops. The man
has his back to her. He’s in a low squat and seems to be
rummaging, eating maybe.

Squinting in the snow, she advances a little more cautiously.

Getting closer, her frown loosens as she gets a better look.
His old wolf collar is soiled and tattered but the fur
splayed out over the shoulders is unmistakable. She stops in
utter shock.
 6.

WOMAN
(first as a stunned
whisper)
Ninaabem?
(Husband?)
(then louder)
Ninaabem?
(Husband?)

No response. He continues with his rummaging. He seems to be

cracking small bones. She moves laterally to get to his
front.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
Ahanu? Ninaabem?
(Ahanu? Husband?)

She stands before him. He’s bent down, still focussed on

feeding. In a kind of frenzy, he’s holding a piece of hare
to his face. He seems to be chewing it up bones, fur and all.
His hair hangs limp and matted over his face, concealing his
eyes.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
(now plaintive and
concerned)
Ahanu?

She grabs some fur to flare her torch. In the brighter light,
she gets a good look at him. He’s all bent over and dirty.
His face and hands are covered in dirt and blood. She’s
suddenly terrified.

Still he pays her no attention.

Then he gets a whiff of the burnt fur and instantly becomes

agitated. As if in spasms, he leaps up with a guttural
scream. He roars straight at her in pain and anger. She can
finally see his face. His skin has a green-grey tint. His
teeth are bare and jagged. His eyes are bloodshot and
yellowed, the pupils way too big and black. It’s not him. Not
anymore.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
(in horror and sadness)
Ahanuuu.

It readies to pounce on her. She recoils, stumbles over a

bush, then scrambles to her feet and flees into the forest.
It chases after her.

CUT TO:
 7.

She is sprinting through the dark woods on her snowshoes,

sobbing as she runs. She glances over her shoulder. It’s
behind her, moving like a deranged beast. She leaps through
the underbrush, weeping.

6. EXT. OUTSIDE OF THE WIGWAM - NIGHT

She bursts out of the woods and scrambles towards the wigwam.
For a moment, she races about in a panic, almost stumbling on
her snowshoes, then steadies herself. She plants her torch in
the ground, then using all her strength, she pulls an old
tanning rack from the ground and plants it into the wigwam’s
slotted entrance, blocking it.

She turns back to the forest to see him erupt into the
clearing. She quickly grabs her smouldering torch as it
approaches.

WOMAN
Niin Opichi. Niin giwiiw, Ahanu!
(It’s Opichi, it’s your wife,
Ahanu!)

It moves towards her. Cringing in anguish, she touches a

large handful of fur to her torch while it readies to assault
her.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
Ahanu! Gaween!
(Ahanu! No!)

Just then her torch begins billowing acrid smoke and flares
up. It recoils in horror at the smell of the burnt fur.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
Nimaanendam, nabem!
(I’m so sorry, husband!)

She winds up and clubs him with all her might. Again and
again, she strikes, screaming all along.

He is pummeled down into a huddle. His coat smoulders.

She stops to breath. Then from behind her in the wigwam--

BOY (O.S.)
Nimaama?
(Mummy?)

Pure anguish at the sound of her child, then shock and horror
as the monster begins to move again.
 8.

With unnatural speed, it is suddenly upon her and swipes her

away with an explosive arm movement. She flies across the
clearing and tumbles to the ground.

With another erratic movement, it moves to swipe away the

tanning rack. But the rack is well snagged, so the fiend
begins struggling with the entire structure, roaring.

She is dazed and in pain as the monster begins shredding its

way into the wigwam. Then she hears her child screaming
within.

Pulling herself together, she scrambles to get closer to her

boy’s voice. In a frenzy, she’s down on her knees in the
snow, tearing away at the wigwam’s bark covering. Meanwhile
the monster works at breaking open the wigwam’s blocked
entrance.

She’s finally ripped a hole in the wigwam’s carapace. She

reaches into the hole and pats madly about to try and grab a
hold of her child. But he’s transfixed and out of reach. He
calls out for her--

BOY (O.S.) (CONT’D)

Nimaama!

The structure lurches as the beast finally breaks through the

entrance and lumbers in. The woman plunges headlong into the
breach herself, writhing like a snake to get through, kicking
off her snowshoes as she does.

7. INT. WIGWAM - NIGHT

Roaring like a demon, the fiend looms over the small boy who
cowers to the far side of the wigwam near a man’s summer
satchel and new mittens. The boy is holding a man’s pipe up
over his head as if to placate the monster.

BOY
Gaween, imbaabaa! Gaween!
(No daddy! No!)

The fiend pauses for a moment at the sight and sound of the
boy, then bellows long and low.

She suddenly leaps onto the beast’s back. But it grabs a hold
of her and with a quick twist and a shake, it sends her
flying. She lands near the fire, rolls across the ground and
knocks the basket of fur over into the embers.
 9.

WOMAN
(in pain and fear)
Kitchi, gii’! Gii’!
(Kitchi, run! Run!)

At the sound of his mother’s anguish, the boy finally wakes

from his daze and quickly scampers through the breach just in
time to escape the monster. She sighs out of relief.

But the fiend then turns towards her. In pain, she tries to
pull herself away. But it lumbers up to her and grabs a hold
of her leg, bringing it to its mouth to eat.

WOMAN (CONT’D)
Gaween!
(No!)

She kicks frantically at its face with her other leg. But to
no avail, it merely swats her foot away, then sinks it teeth
into her calf. She screams.

Suddenly she notices the pile of loose fur by the fire. With
her bare hands, she quickly rakes some embers onto it then
casts the smouldering pile onto the fiend’s head.

Engulfed in flaming fur and smoke, it releases her leg from

its jaws. But with flames still dancing on its head and
shoulders, it rises to pounce on her again.

But she meets it with a pot of boiling stew in the face. The
fiend seems blinded.

In a mad dash, she throws a whole basket of pine cones on the

fire. They flare up immediately. She kicks the fire all over
the place then scrambles through the breach as the wigwam
fills with fire and smoke. Moving erratically, the monster
pounds at the walls.

8. EXT. OUTSIDE OF THE WIGWAM - NIGHT

The fiend is roaring inside the wigwam. The structure shakes

violently.

Breathing heavily, the woman spots her smoldering torch on

the ground. She quickly yanks some spruce branches from a
snowy pile and throws them over the wigwam’s entrance. She
pulls the last of the loose fur from her tunic, stuffs it
into the spruce boughs and sets it alight with the torch.

The wigwam is now on fire both inside and out. Still wailing,
the creature inside charges against the sides of the wigwam,
jolting the whole structure.
 10.

It punches through the carapace, flails about with clawed

hands, then lifts the wigwam off the ground.

As it rises from the ground, air is sucked into it from

underneath and the whole structure bursts into full
conflagration.

CUT TO:

The flaming wigwam settles back down. Most of the bark

covering is burnt through now. The woman and her child peer
in terror at the flames within. A dark figure can now be seen
in the inferno. Still standing, it twists and turns in pain
and anger, finally bending over.

BOY
(in extreme anguish)
Imbaabaaaa!
(Daddy!)

Turning to his mother in grief and confusion--

BOY (CONT’D)
Nimaama, genishiwiin!
(Mama, you killed him!)

WOMAN
(ferociously)
Gaween! Imbaaba nibo! A’aw Windigo!
(No! Your father’s gone! That was
the Windigo!)