Ask the Dust Page #3

Johnson or Williams?

white.

Pretty much sums up your ambition

in life, doesn't it? To be Mrs. White?

You can be a real son of a b*tch,

you know that?

- Are you still cold?

- No.

The cliffs keep you warm.

They're like a blanket

when you're underneath them.

Why do you get so mean?

Why do you get so mean?

Can't we be friends?

Friends like you and Sammy?

Look at the fog.

An army of ghosts crawling

on their bellies.

What are you talking about?

The fog bank.

It creeps in and hugs the water.

- You didn't answer my question.

- I know what a fog bank is.

And what about you and Sammy?

Who are you interested in,

me or Sammy?

Come on, why don't you teach me

how to ride a wave?

Out there, in all this fog?

Yeah, why not?

Are you afraid?

Of course not.

What are you waiting for?

Come in! Come here!

Come here! Come on!

Get in here!

What are you hiding?

You got a pretty one.

Pink as a baby's bottom.

Relax. Let's have some fun.

- You're not gonna ride a wave tonight.

- Sure I will. You show me how.

I'm from Colorado.

You mean you don't know

how to ride a wave?

Listen. My technique might be not good

for you to learn. It's unorthodox.

That's okay. I'd like to learn from you.

The first thing you gotta do is

get to where the waves are.

Don't take any chances.

Just stay back, stay right there.

I will, I promise.

Just watch me...

- Help!

- Camilla!

Camilla?

Camilla! Camilla!

Oh, God. Camilla!

Camilla!

Where'd she go? Where'd she go?

Camilla! Camilla!

Camilla!

Fooled you pretty good!

It was as good as your heart attack.

- Admit it.

- It was better.

You can dish it out,

but you can't take it, huh?

Cut it out!

It was a joke, God damn it!

What are you trying to do, drown me?

I'll never forgive you.

Not for my whole life.

I thought your life was over.

I thought I was gonna die

looking for you.

That was my first time in the ocean.

What you gonna do now, walk home?

It's 10 miles to downtown.

where do you live?

The Alta Loma.

Bunker Hill.

Old women and weak men.

Perfect place for you.

Couldn't be better.

In my hotel they don't allow Mexicans.

White dough.

No wonder she laughed. Who wouldn't?

Arturo Bandini, genius,

man of the world,

can't take a walk on the beach

without trying to hide his dick.

I never wanted to see you again.

You were so mean last night.

Get in.

What for?

Get in.

Arturo, don't stop.

Please don't ever stop. Arturo...

Jesus Christ, Hellfrick!

Have you ever heard of knocking

before you come into a room?

Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to disturb you.

Artist at work, huh?

Listen, kid.

How much dough you got?

- Oh, for Christ's sake!

- No, no, no, it's not for booze.

- Well, then what's it for?

- Meat.

Meat?

I mean like the steaks you used to get

Back Rast.

Real meat. Not like out here.

Sure. Cattle are different out here.

Absolutely.

Here's always sunny and dry.

Cows eat nothing but weeds.

Dead weeds. Meat's full of worms.

They paint it to look bloody and red.

Did you know that?

Maybe you could use that

in one of your...

Okay, okay. What do you need?

Fifty cents? There's a butcher on Olive.

He's got the real McCoy,

beef from Kansas City.

It would help keep me off the hard stuff.

I'll make it good with you, kid.

I'll pay you back 1,000 times.

I had just under $10.

It would pay the rent

for two-and-a-half weeks

or buy me three pairs of shoes

or two pairs of pants

or 1,000 postage stamps

to send stories to Mencken.

But you don't have any stories or talent.

"Don't stop. Don't stop.

Please don't ever stop."

Garbage.

Camilla. Camilla, Wait up.

- Did you ask him?

- What's in it for him?

Just do it.

Who is it?

- Hello.

- What are you doing?

Do I know you?

Who are you?

"He took her roughly in his arms.

"She pressed herself

against his throbbing loins.

"'Don't stop! Don't ever stop."'

- Hey, that's private.

- I hope so.

It should never be made public.

It's pitiful and sad.

A hopelessly bad writer

buried in a cheap hotel on Bunker Hill.

In Los Angeles, of all places.

- They'll never read what you write.

- That's not really my writing.

They won't even have a chance

to forget it.

Say, what's going on?

where did you come from?

- Is this a gag?

- You're nobody.

I might have been somebody,

and here we are.

Lady. Lady, you've got to sober up.

How about a little fresh air?

We could go out

and have a drink. Money.

Lady?

Good idea. Let's have a drink.

You are gonna be so marvelous!

So wonderful!

- My landlady.

- I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

- Forget it, now. Let's just walk.

- Okay, but we're having a drink.

I insist. Look, money!

Okay, we'll have a drink.

Just put it back in your purse.

- Hey, Mr. Bandini.

- Hi, Solomon. How's business?

Till you showed up, Mr. Bandini, I had

more pinball machines than customers.

- A short beer, am I right?

- And whiskey.

Lots of whiskey.

Does he knoW you?

Your mouth, your wonderful mouth.

God, what a mouth.

No, let's have a drink first.

- What's wrong?

- You know what's wrong.

- No, I don't.

- You're just like the rest of them.

- You know!

- Know what?

- That's why you won't kiss me!

- Here we go. One short beer.

And double whiskey.

- So who was it?

- Who was what?

Who told you about my wounds?

Your wounds?

Do you have a nickel?

I love pinball machines.

One game. Would you mind?

- Whatever my darling wishes.

- Thank you.

Solomon, could you come over here?

For some reason, it's on tilt.

Play. Play.

Who is that woman?

Who knows?

She was in a week before last,

When you were talking

about Sinclair Lewis

to that couple from Minnesota.

- I didn't notice her.

- Well, she noticed you, believe you me.

Listened to every word you said.

Rvery single word.

- And when you left, she left.

- And what's she doing now?

- Watching you like a prize dog.

- I gotta get out of here.

Door opposite the men's room.

Is everything all right, darling?

Do you need another nickel?

No. No, I'm just gonna use...

- Oh, my God!

- Darling.

I took a cab and the door was open.

Don't you think this has gone

far enough?

"I see them in the lobbies of hotels.

"I see them sunning in the parks

and limping out of little ugly churches,

"dispossessed in this place

where the seasons never change."

That's more like it.

Will you please get out?

You're my darling,

and you're going to love me.

Some other time. I think you better go.

I mean it.

I know how I revolt you,

that you know what my clothes

are covering up.

Know what?

I don't even know your name.

Vera Rivkin.

Back Rast I had a real life

and friends who knew about

H.L. Mencken

and Rdna St. Vincent Millay.

Now I'm a housekeeper.

I work for a nice Jewish family

in Long Beach.

I'm tired. Tired of housekeeping.

Then one day, I saw you at Solomon's,

and I heard you talk.

And I went and I bought your story.

And I read it.

And I felt that you were someone

Who could look at me

and see me for what I am.

So I followed you home.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes