Born to Be Bad Page #2

He knows all the questions

and all the answers.

And when he grows up to be a man,

if anybody puts anything over on him...

it won't be because

I didn't tell him!

"Honor and decency"?

That's a lot of hash.

What did it ever get me?

I was reared right.

People told me everything, except

how to protect myself in the clinches.

Did they ever tell me

what to really expect from life?

Did they ever suggest it might be

a case of survival of the fittest?

Did they ever tell me, if you don't

do you're gonna get done? No!

They told me nothin'!

And what happened?

The first time I met with a real problem

in life, I went down for the count.

You know what happened.

I wound up on your doorstep

in the rain, cold and hungry.

Fifteen years old, with

a baby about to be born.

No husband, no money

and nobody I could go to.

If it hadn't been for you, there

wouldn't be any Mickey, or any me.

Oh, boy. That's what I call

a swell start in life.

Believe me, nothing like that's

gonna happen to my boy...

not if I can prevent it.

He's gonna be so darn smart by the time

he's of age that he won't have to worry.

Furthermore, if I ever get my

hands on a big enough bankroll...

we're gonna be so darned

respectable and honest it'll hurt.

Gee. You got

an awful lot to learn, Letty.

Someday you're gonna wake up

and realize what a mistake you made.

Mickey, get Fuzzy

a glass of beer, will ya?

I got Mick, see?

I can't afford to be poor anymore.

You mustn't take life so seriously.

Nothing matters very much.

Maybe not to you.

But to me, it matters.

And another thing: stop worrying

about other people, will ya?

Oh, I'm sorry about tonight,

Fuzzy. Really I am.

But we'll make it

next Tuesday night for sure.

- Mom, where's Fuzzy?

- In the other room, I guess.

He's not there.

Fuzzy?

Say, did the old gentleman

with a beard just go out of here?

- Yeah, he just went out.

- Oh.

Poor Fuzzy.

Guess I hurt his feelings now.

What do you mean, hurt his feelings?

Oh, nothin'. Let it go. I'll drop by

his bookstore in the morning.

Hey, Ma, he ain't no kin to us, is he?

No. He's all right, though.

How long have you known him, Ma?

Just about as long as I've known you.

- I met him the same day.

- Where?

Same place I met you. In his bookstore.

- That's why we're such good pals.

- You like him, don't ya?

Sure I like him.

Almost as much as I like you, honey.

But how did it happen, Ma?

It's a long story, honey.

I was walkin' down the street

one day, Mick.

It was pouring.

I was feelin' kind of wet too.

Then you came along, floatin'

down the gutter on a cabbage leaf.

All wrapped up in cellophane.

Old Fuzzy-face took us in

and gave us both a place to sleep.

Really, Ma? Is that how I met you?

Something like that.

You were born in the back room

of his bookstore, honey.

Hurry up!

Mickey! Mickey! Mickey!

- I'll take him.

- No, no, no! You killed him!

- Why don't you look where you're goin'?

- He ran under the truck himself.

Go away. Come on. Let's break up.

What's your name?

While the Amalgamated Dairies truck

wasn't to blame for this accident...

- as a matter of fairness...

- Mrs. Strong, we'll do anything.

Get the best doctors you can.

It doesn't matter how much it costs.

Just a minute, please!

We are willing to make a reasonable

settlement in this case, Mrs. Strong.

Oh! How can you come up here

and speak of money?

Settlements?

It's my baby lying in there.

Doctor, is there no decency, no

consideration? Do they think I care...

how much money

they're willing to pay?

- Now, madame. If you let our doctor...

- Get out of here!

- I'll handle this.

- You? What can you do?

Well, you see, Mrs. Strong, I happen to

be president of the Amalgamated Dairies.

The reason I was driving my truck,

I can explain by saying that...

I make it a point every so often

to check every phase of my business.

And yesterday, unfortunately,

it was driving a truck.

Believe me, Mrs. Strong,

I'm greatly concerned about your boy.

And I want to do everything

in my power to help you.

I don't want to spare any expense.

If the boy needs a specialist...

- I am a specialist, Mr...

- Trevor's my name, sir.

- Oh, this is Dr. Steele, Mr. Trevor.

- How do you do?

Yes, Mr. Trevor, I have handled

a great many cases of this type.

Mrs. Strong, l... I know this is hardly

the time to discuss money...

but if you need me,

please reach me here any time, will you?

- Thank you.

- Good-bye, Mrs. Strong.

Good-bye.

Come on, Lieber.

- Mr. Trevor...

- I'll talk to you about that outside.

Bye.

You were wonderful. I'll send

the lawyer up to see you right away.

- Don't talk to anyone in the meantime.

- I got ya, Doc.

- I won't say a word.

I'll pay ya, Doctor...

- No, no, no, Mrs. Strong.

You can settle with me later.

Oh, I understand.

- Later.

- Mm-hmm.

Here, here, young man. You get

back into bed. Come on. Get in there.

- I have to talk to you, anyway.

- Look, Ma.

- The big lunk broke my skate.

- Never mind that for a minute.

Listen, Mick.

You'd like an automobile, wouldn't you?

Would you like to go to Coney Island

when you wanted to, with enough money...

- so you could do just as you wanted?

- What are you drivin' at, Ma?

Well, listen, sweetheart.

If you were really hurt...

if your leg was smashed up

so that you couldn't walk...

the company that ran over ya

would have to pay a lot

of money, wouldn't they?

- See?

- Would that mean you and me

could go places together?

And you wouldn't always be runnin' out

every night with Steve and all those guys?

Sure, honey. We'd be together

always, then. Every night, all the time.

With money to do as we please, and

I wouldn't even have to look at Steve...

- and those other palookas.

- I got ya, Ma.

Your Honor, my next witness

will be Michael Strong.

The little boy who has suffered

so keenly by this accident.

Take it easy.

Give me your help, will you, please?

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Mickey, l-I want you to tell me...

Oh! Don't be afraid of those people there.

Th-They're all your friends.

Sure, they're your friends.

Now, Mickey, I want you

to tell me how you feel.

I feel all right. Except for my leg.

- And sometimes, a headache.

- Mm-hmm.

It doesn't hurt anymore

much here.

- But sometimes, it feels like

needles and pins, right here.

- Uh-huh.

Mickey, how long is it since you've

been able to play with other little boys?

I don't remember.

It's a long time.

What were the things

you used to like to do...

before this truck ran over you?

I used to like to run and play

and roller-skate and go to school.

I guess I miss school most of all.

Now, tell me one more thing, Mickey.

I'd like to know.

- How old are ya?

- Seven and a half.

Now, tell me, Mickey,

can you read and write?

I used to. But I forgot how.

I get a headache when I try

to read or look at pictures.

That'll be all, Mickey.

- Cross-examination?

- No questions, Your Honor.

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