Birdman of Alcatraz Page #6

Who'll lead the fight this time?

You or Stella Johnson?

There will be no fight.

Wait a minute, Mrs Stroud.

What do you mean, there'll be no fight?

Just what does that mean?

My son is where he belongs.

I shall do nothing to obtain

his release from the penitentiary.

And this is for quotation?

I know he's safe where he is.

I wanna be sure. Are you saying

you'd rather have him in there than free?

You now oppose your own son's parole?

I'm doing it for his own good.

Well, Bob, you're the first con

in history that ever had two cells.

Gonna be great for the birds.

It's in all the papers. I can't understand

how she could turn on you that way.

Do you know what a mother tiger

does when she's upset?

She eats her young.

Maybe I could talk to your old lady,

try and fix it up.

I guarantee she'll change her mind.

Bob!

Far as I'm concerned, she's dead.

I gotta go make my bed check.

You know what this is, friends?

This is 180-proof alcohol.

I'm gonna make me

a Leavenworth cocktail.

You watch now.

You're gonna see me get drunk.

Fly, my avian friends.

I give you the illusion of freedom.

Enjoy it.

Go ahead, open it.

Go ahead.

Picked it up last night in a hockshop.

Thought you might get a kick out of it.

Why don't you look at somethin',

see if it works?

Mr Ransom, you sure are a darlin' man!

Keep both eyes open.

After a while, you'll see only

through the eye of the eyepiece.

That's the ticket.

For Stroud, that microscope

was the lantern he had been waiting for

to light his way into the marvellous

and exacting truth of scientific research.

His object:
the bird.

His tools:
curiosity, dedication,

and the nerve of a riverboat gambler,

as he ripped into studies which read like

the curriculum of a medical university.

Cytology, morphology, biochemistry.

Stroud decided he was

equipped to launch a project

he had long dreamed about -

a definitive work on the diseases of birds.

He had found cures for diseases

he could hardly pronounce,

like haemorrhagic septicaemia, bird

diphtheria, aspergillosis, avian cholera.

He even found a specific

for fowl paralysis,

thereby saving poultry ranches

the lives of thousands of chickens.

The title of his book was "Stroud's

Digest of the Diseases of Birds".

Its contents established beyond doubt

that the ageing prisoner was

the world's foremost authority in his field.

The book took seven years to complete.

I want your scientific opinion

about this book of Stroud's.

Is it baloney or does it

amount to anything?

Well, Doctor?

It's hardly what you'd call baloney.

It's a highly scientific study

of the pathology - diseases - of birds.

You think Stroud's

quite a man, don't you?

I think he's a genius.

Why? Just because

he's written a book about birds?

No. No, not because of that.

Because, with only

a third-grade education,

he's become expert

in subjects like haematology -

that's blood.

Histology - tissue. Anatomy.

Studies tough enough with an instructor

in college, but self-taught in a cell,

an accomplishment

that staggers imagination.

He's smart. He has a high IQ.

He's more than that. He's dedicated.

He's spent over 3,000 hours

at that microscope of his,

made hundreds of drawings,

over 5,000 tissue sections.

He has one of the finest collections

of slides on birds in existence.

Knows more about avian anatomy

and pathology than any man alive.

OK. I'll recommend his book

go to the publisher's.

Make the bird-lovers happy.

If Stroud's paroled and gets a laboratory,

there's no telling what he might do.

He should be working on

human diseases, not birds'.

Paroled? Not much chance of that.

I thought his record was good.

Not in the eyes of the bureau.

His attitude is poor.

He thinks he's a world unto himself,

like we were his own

personal quartermaster corps.

Chemicals,

laboratory equipment, birdseed.

Now he's demanding 25lbs of ice

every day. It's got to stop someplace.

I'd give him 500lbs of ice

a day if he wanted it.

You would, huh?

I wonder if the bureau

isn't afraid of Stroud.

Afraid to let the public know what kind of

a brain they're keeping locked up here.

Doctor, we're keeping

a killer locked up here.

Don't forget it.

I heard from that professor,

the one at the university of Kansas.

He said if I were out, I might have

a good chance to get a research grant.

- What's that?

- Well, they pay you to do research.

Bob! But that's wonderful!

Only one drawback - gettin' out.

Well, how can the parole board

turn you down now?

Boy, they talk about rehabilitation.

This book and the cures you discovered...

What do they want?

I wish you were on that board, Stell.

I'd be strollin' down the avenue right now.

But let's not make any plans.

I've seen too many of 'em go up in smoke.

You still won't let yourself

think about getting out, will you?

Bob, what's wrong with

having a little faith?

You're always bringing me new words.

Like "love" and "faith".

You're a wonderful man.

You've done some great things.

I have faith that the parole board

will see how good you are.

Golly, you just can't go on thinking that

you're gonna be here the rest of your life.

All right, honey. I'll bring faith

into my cell tonight and entertain it.

Just for the soup course.

But don't you start buying me

any new neckties yet, OK?

You look pretty today.

Bob, come on, wake up.

Bob, wake up. Come on. Get up.

What's up, Bull?

Your transfer orders.

Alcatraz.

Here. Better get dressed.

- Dressed?

- Now. They're on their way down.

All right, let's go.

- Why this time of night?

- Orders. Step on it.

What about my equipment? My birds?

Our instructions are you walk outta here

with just the clothes you have on.

I got a sick bird in there. Can I fix it?

Of course you can.

Listen to me, Bull.

I want you to talk to Stella.

I want you to tell her not to follow me.

Under no conditions.

Understand?

You better grab that pension and beat it,

before these walls get to ya.

I'll try and write.

Don't waste your time grieving over me.

When it's cut, it's cut.

So long, friend.

Merry Christmas, boys.

I could use a rest.

Yes?

Prisoner Stroud

completed processing, sir.

Thank you.

Dog block. Solitary again, hm?

It's not called solitary here. Segregation.

Interesting name.

- Silence rule?

- Strictly enforced.

Hello, Bob.

- How are you, Harvey?

- Pretty good for an old man.

You're looking well.

How was your trip out?

Not too unpleasant, I hope.

Well, I've always enjoyed travelling.

It's quite an establishment

you've got here.

Yes, it has its good points.

It's modern, well-heated, clean.

First thing I noticed. Almost antiseptic.

Yeah, you'll find no cockroaches here.

We have linoleum on

all the floors of the cells.

Coming over on the launch,

I saw some children playing.

They belong to the guards

and all the other personnel.

We all live on the Rock, too.

Interesting, isn't it?

The game of tag never grows old.

Doesn't seem so long ago

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