Apt Pupil Page #17

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TODD:

No. I got it... thanks.

The figure steps closer. The light catches his face to reveal

Archie. He is an unshaven, filthy mess, and when he speaks his

words are slurred from years of steady drinking.

ARCHIE:

That case maybe you could loan me a dollar.

Help out a Vietnam vet? How 'bout it?

Todd eyes the man cautiously. He looks around. No one is

nearby. The constant din of the rain echoes within the confines

of the tunnel.

TODD:

I... I don't know... I don't think so.

Todd palms the knife out of sight and slowly approaches the bum.

ARCHIE:

C'mon, you got something for me. I know you

do.

TODD:

Well, maybe... I have to check.

Todd's hands go into his pockets. He stops a few feet from the

bum.

ARCHIE:

See, I got to get up to L.A. Got a job

waiting for me up there.

Todd moves closer. Close enough to touch the bum.

TODD:

I thought I did have a couple of quarters...

The bum looks at him hopefully. Todd looks back at him, sizing

him up, really noticing him for the first time.

ARCHIE:

You know,

(his voice drops)

For a dollar I'll give you a blow job. Take

you right up there where it's still dry. You

never had so good, kid. You'll come your

brains out.

Todd freezes for a moment. The bum is right in his face.

Suddenly Todd throws a handful of change at the bum and sprints

back to his bike. He hops on and is gone in a flash, leaving

the bum there to pick up the scattered coins.

As Todd zips away, the hood is off his head. The rain begins to

beat away the splattered mud from his face.

INT. HIGH SCHOOL - HISTORY CLASS - DAY

Mr. Proxmire makes his way through the rows of desks. He is

passing out papers.

PROXMIRE:

Our illustrious administration, in its quest

to make my job as difficult as possible, has

decided that home room teachers are now

responsible for handing IOP cards for all

your classes. So for those of you getting

flunk cards, you'll find them attached to

last week's exam.

Moans erupt from the class. Todd sits motionless at his desk.

The moment of truth. Proxmire passes him and places the exam

face down on Todd's desk. Todd hesitates before turning it

over. He is sweating.

He flips the paper over and glares at the small card clipped to

the top of the paper. He picks up the card and reads it: "I'm

sure glad I didn't have to give you one of these for real!

Great improvement, Todd. -- Anne Leland." Todd cannot contain

his delight. Nearby students stare curiously at the strange boy

beaming over his flunk card.

INT. DUSSANDER'S KITCHEN - DAY

Dussander sits at the table. He holds the IOP card out at arm's

length to read it. The bourbon bottle next to him is empty.

Todd sits across from him.

DUSSANDER:

Well, this calls for a celebration, no?

Dussander gets up and goes to the refrigerator.

TODD:

Look, I guess I owe a lot of this to you.

I'm not proud of it, but it's true.

DUSSANDER:

(eyeing him cautiously)

Your gratitude humbles me.

(pause)

How about some Ritz crackers and Velveeta?

TODD:

Sure, what the hell.

Dussander goes about his task, taking items from the cabinets,

etc. Todd watches all of this intently, but without expression.

DUSSANDER:

I would have expected you to be doing back

flips down the hallway after such good news.

You are so quiet.

Todd does not respond.

DUSSANDER (CONT'D)

Today, I think, I give you the day off from

studying. How's that? How about one of my

stories instead? I still have a few good

ones saved up.

TODD:

I don't care. Whatever you want.

Todd is wringing his hand together nervously under the table.

Dussander places a box of crackers on the table and goes back to

the counter.

DUSSANDER:

Let's see. I could tell you about the

special soap we made. Or there is always the

story of how I escaped from Berlin after I

was foolish enough to go back. That was a

close one, I promise you.

TODD:

Anything, really.

DUSSANDER:

No, none of these I think. You don't seem to

be in the mood.

Dussander slices open a pack of Velveeta and puts it on a plate.

DUSSANDER (CONT'D)

I think today I will tell you the story of an

old man who was afraid. He was afraid of a

certain young boy who was, in a queer way,

his friend. The boy proved to be a very good

student, but perhaps not in the way his

mother or his teachers had envisioned. At

first the old man disliked the boy intensely,

but then he grew to... to enjoy the boy's

company. Of course, there was still a great

deal of distrust between them.

He puts a glass of Coke in front of Todd and goes back to the

counter. He opens a drawer, takes something out, closes it.

DUSSANDER (CONT'D)

Each knew something that other wanted to keep

secret. But over time, the old man began to

feel that things were changing. He felt his

hold on the boy slipping away from him.

Dussander goes to the cellar door. His back is to Todd. He

opens the door and clicks on the light. Todd stands up

silently.

DUSSANDER (CONT'D)

So. One sleepless night the old man got out

of bed and wrote down the story of his

involvement with the boy. Everything he

could remember, from the first day forward.

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