Filmed in March of 2002. Currently in editing.
CAST
Funeral Home. Priest stands alone on
stage addressing the audience.
PRIEST
Deal with him, O Thou Who forgivest the sins of men and
concealest their faults, as beseemeth the heaven of Thy
bounty and the ocean of Thy grace. Grant him admission
within the precincts of Thy transcendent mercy that was
before the foundation of earth and heaven. There is no God
but Thee, the Ever-Forgiving, the Most Generous.
AUDIENCE
Ah-men.
PRIEST
Welcome all to the celebration of one man’s life. For in life
is what we’ll remember Jonathan James Wright for. I am sorry
to say that Jon specifically asked for no eulogy to be read
for I am sure you all have fond memories. Over the last
twenty five years of knowing Jon as a loyal church goer and
avid giver in tithing, I would like to say a few words of a
man this small community has grown to love and admire. He has
set an example to us. How to be more like Jesus, to walk in
his steps, follow his guidance and guide others on a path to
Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.
Priest pulls out a sealed envelope.
PRIEST (CONT’D)
Jon has asked in his will that this letter, written by his
hand, be read at his funeral for all. I’m honored that he
asked I read it. Apparently, he updated this letter every
year. To give thanks and celebrate his loved ones, no doubt.
(audience mumbles in agreement)
In true Jon Wright fashion, I was asked to swear on a stack
of bibles that I would finish this letter and read every
single word before you. He always kept me on my toes, Jon.
His lawyer is here to bare witness even.
Audience laughs
Priest smiles and opens the envelope.
PRIEST (CONT’D)
Hello Rosewood community. If you are hearing this than I am
truly dead and happy for it. For I’ve lived 61 years, much
longer than I expected. I have lived a long and wonderful and
terrifying life. First, to give thanks to those I have loved
with all my heart and helped made me the man that I am: My
wife, Reba. After 25 years, you are still the woman I look
forward coming home to. No matter your faults, I still and
will always love you. Second, to my daughter, Shelley.
I am sad that I leave her at such a tender age of 15 but I’m
thankful I don’t have to live through the dating years that
will have, no doubt, put an end to many a young man’s life.
(audience laughs)
I wish you all the happiness in the world, Princess, and
Daddy loves you very much. As for the rest of Rosewood, I
know I have done many civic duties for the community but that
was not for you or in the name of God, as our beloved Priest
would like to think. They were shellfish deeds to which I’ll
explain why.
(to audience)
Always, the modest man.
(letter)
In 1966, there was a case in New York against the Mob Boss
Angelo Berteninni. Lawyers begged, pleaded and bargained for
friends and affiliates of Angelo to spill their secrets. A
young and promising man, Edward Cherta, stepped up to the
attorney’s deal. Ed had been with Angelo for 6 years and was
proud of his accomplishments but felt there was no reward for
his work. Granted the money was good, but there was no
satisfaction after the initial 10 kills. No more adrenaline,
no more thrill to the hunt. Ed soon started taking picture of
his victims after he killed and became an accomplished
amateur photographer. When the attorney offered Ed years
verses centuries in jail for his photos and accounts of
Angelo’s orders, Ed happily agreed.
ED (V.O.)
That’s right, I squealed on Angelo Berteninni. I single
handedly brought down the New York mafia. Only now can I tell
my story. I can proudly say that the years I served Angelo I
successfully killed 56 men, 22 women and one child, in error.
And for this, I get my photos of 59 victims in the FBI files
to study and learn from. I’m now a teacher for future killers
of the government. I’m sure, right about now, the good priest
is getting a little green around the gills and doesn’t feel
he should continue my letter, but read on Father, you swore
before God. Plus, what better way to confess my sins but to
my priest, to all my friends and family. Which brings me to
Rosewood. After I got out of jail, I instantly went into the
witness protection program and they relocated me here to this
sleepy fucked up town. The WPP didn’t protect me long and
Angelo’s men found me while I was dating Reba. Those two men
now lay behind the house underneath Reba’s beautiful roses.
The year I buried them there, I thank Angelo for Reba winning
best Rose that year at the city fair and every year after
that. The WPP people soon realized what had happened. In
order for me to keep my new life, I had to start acting like
the Cleavers. After fours years of being Mr. Clever, I got
bored and started itching for the rush. I new the FBI would
reveal my identity if I killed again so I picked up the
camera and started wondering around town. That too got
boring, so I had the idea of combining my sniper habits with
my photography. All you busy bodies out there who thought they knew
the whole story of Mrs. Levitt’s death were wrong. Her old man pushed
her in the shower. She could hardly walk and he was sick of
taking care of her. I don’t blame him and feel he’s somewhat
of a brother to have the balls to whack his wife. I started
to feel the rush again and I went out night after night. Soon
I got daring to sneak into houses, like the old days, and
snap pictures of everyone. I started to really like Rosewood
for once after one night I got the Shannon’s kid getting a
street abortion after the Doc made her give him a blow job
because she didn’t have money to pay for it, Lorene was
stealing money from Mr. Snipes' store, and then to end the
evening with my own wife having sex with the Priest in the
third row pew. That was one hell of a night. I was angry at
first, but then I realized she was giving me something to do
in this town and I loved her more for it. I felt alive again.
After each photo I developed, I loved it a little more. I
must have hundreds of thousands of photos now of everyone who
ever lived or walked through this damned town. Sure, I put up
fences for the kids playgrounds, and painted the library and
any other medial job I could do in this town but for the sole
reason to give me full access and trust of it inhabitants.
Rosewood was my ant farm and for that, I thank you. I’m sure
many of you are wondering and worrying about these said
photos, never fear. I’ve instructed my lawyer to send those
photos to a publicist in New York I once knew. But for now,
I’ve said my peace. I’ll be waiting for you, Father, in the
front row holding your seat in Hell. Love, Jon slash Ed.
Priest is motionless and there is dead
silence. He then carefully folds the
letter and places it back in the
envelope shaking, uncertain what to do
next. He looks out on the crowd and
smiles uncomfortably.
PRIEST
Please, bow your heads. Say, the prayer with me please.
AUDIENCE & PRIEST
Deal with him, O Thou Who forgivest the sins of men and
concealest their faults, as beseemeth the heaven of Thy
bounty and the ocean of Thy grace. Grant him admission
within the precincts of Thy transcendent mercy that was
before the foundation of earth and heaven. There is no God
but Thee, the Ever-Forgiving, the Most Generous.
AUDIENCE
Ah-men.
Black out.
