Melgund Township Winter Story Library
The Other Side of the Mountain - Script
by Tony Eetak | Script
by Tony Eetak | Script
INT. CINDY'S BEDROOM - PRE-DAWN
Darkness. Silence. Not the absence of noise, but a heavy, physical weight.
CINDY (16), eyes wide, stares at the ceiling.
Her breath plumes in the frigid air. A tiny cloud.
She sits up. Flannel pajamas bunch at her elbows.
She pads across the floorboards.
Her hand presses against the window pane.
Ice crystals rim the glass.
Through the frost, the world outside is alien.
Blue-grey light.
Every shape—the truck, the fence, the trees—is softened, buried under a thick, white blanket.
A pristine snow planet.
EXT. FRONT PORCH - CONTINUOUS
The front door sticks.
Cindy shoves her shoulder against it.
It gives with a CRACK of ice.
Snow tumbles into the entryway.
Cindy steps out. She wears a bright, puffy purple jacket. It looks brand new. Too clean.
The cold hits her face.
She takes a step.
CRUNCH.
She looks down at her boot. Deep in the powder.
She takes another step.
CRUNCH.
She tilts her head back.
A single snowflake lands on her eyelash.
She sticks out her tongue. Catches one.
A smile breaks across her face.
EXT. SKI RESORT - DAY
Chaos.
Loud pop music THUMPS from unseen speakers.
Tourists swarm. Skis clatter.
The air is thick with the smell of diesel and fryer grease.
Cindy stands near a green flag. She wears a rental bib.
Her board is heavy, awkward. She holds it like a shield.
ROB (17) slides up. Faded black jacket. Scratched helmet. Boredom etched into his posture.
He stops without a sound.
You the beginners?
Cindy nods. So do a few others.
I’m Rob. First thing. Learn how to fall.
He drops to his knees. Then his butt. Mechanical.
Do that.
EXT. BUNNY HILL - LATER
- Cindy stands. The board shoots out. WHUMP. She lands hard.
- Cindy pushes up. Knees shaking. She slides two feet. Catches an edge. FACEPLANT.
- Rob watches. Arms crossed. He checks his phone.
Cindy wipes snow from her mouth.
You’re leaning back.
I don't want to fall.
Then stop trying not to. Lean forward. Trust the edge.
Cindy rubs her hip.
She points the board downhill.
She slides. Faster.
Panic flares in her eyes.
She leans back.
WHAM.
She lies in the snow.
Rob stands over her. Not smiling. Not frowning.
Better. You fell forward.
EXT. CHAIRLIFT - DAY
Cindy and Rob sit on the swinging bench.
High above the tree line.
The wind WHISTLES.
CLUNK.
The lift shudders to a halt.
The cable stops humming.
Silence returns.
Cindy grips the safety bar. Knuckles white.
Rob leans back. Unbothered. He stares at the distant peaks.
Is this... normal?
Someone fell. Give it a minute.
Cindy looks down. Feet dangling over a hundred-foot drop.
She looks at Rob. He rubs his left knee. A rhythmic, unconscious motion.
It’s quiet up here.
Rob stops rubbing his knee.
Down there, it’s never quiet. Coaches. Sponsors. My dad.
He gestures to the lodge far below.
They don't see the snow. They see the spreadsheet.
Is that why you don't ride? Really ride?
Rob turns to her. His eyes are grey. Tired.
I ride.
You work.
He looks away. Jaw tight.
I used to ride. Before the knee. Before the expectations.
The lift LURCHES.
Cindy gasps.
Rob doesn't flinch.
The chair moves again.
EXT. COMPETITION COURSE - DAY
A massive crowd.
Music BLASTS.
Next up, North Peak's own... Rob Martinez!
On the Jumbotron: Rob at the start gate.
He drops in.
Speed. Pure and violent.
He hits a cliff.
Spins. Once. Twice.
Stomps the landing.
Snow sprays.
The crowd ROARS.
Rob skids to a halt at the bottom.
A man in a resort jacket (MR. MARTINEZ) rushes him. Claps him on the back. Points a camera.
Rob’s face is blank.
He unstraps his back foot.
He looks through the cheering mob.
Finds Cindy.
She gives a small nod.
He doesn't smile. He turns and walks away from the finish line. Away from the trophy.
EXT. SECLUDED RIDGE - SUNSET
The sun dips below the horizon.
The sky burns. Orange. Violet.
The snow turns pink. Alpenglow.
Cindy and Rob sit on a flat rock. Boards unstrapped.
No resort noise. No music.
Just the wind in the pines.
Rob scoops up a handful of snow.
He lets it sift through his fingers. Glittering dust.
My grandfather brought me here. Said the mountain saves the best tricks for when everyone leaves.
He looks at the horizon.
The tension in his shoulders is gone.
You were right.
About what?
It is magic.
He looks at her. A genuine, small smile.
Cindy smiles back.
They sit in the blue light.
Two small figures on the edge of the world.