Bringing Out the Dead Page #12

HAZMAT:

I'll be damned.

(check's Burke's pupils)

It's movement, but I'm not sure how

voluntary.

MARY:

He hears me. Open your eyes, Dad.

Burke's eyes fully open. His cheeks ripple and his lips smack

against the tube between them. His back arches, his body

shakes, his arms yank at their restraints as if reaching to

pull out the wires and tubes. Green lights dance across the

EKG screen, ALARMS sound: first the cardiac monitor, next

the ventilator.

HAZMAT:

Nurse Crupp, I need ten milligrams

of Valium.

Hazmat and Milagros hold down Burke's arms as Crupp prepares

the Valium. Mary backs away.

FRANK:

Why don't we go outside for a little

while, wait until this passes.

They step away.

CUT TO:

INT. LOCKER ROOM--NIGHT

Passing Griss (reading anti-white agitprop) and waiting room

regulars, Frank leads Mary to a small rectangular paramedic

locker area:
sofa, desk, two banks of gray lockers, walls

decorated with hospital rules and regulations.

FRANK:

He wants to pull that tube out. It's

pretty painful--that's why they keep

him sedated--but it's a good sign.

MARY:

You sure? I know my father would

hate to be tied down. He wouldn't

even go to the dentist.

He sits across from her, wishing he could be in three seats

at once, each to watch her from a different angle.

FRANK:

That's how it's done. You have to

keep the body going until the brain

and heart recover enough to go on

their own.

MARY:

He's better, though, right?

FRANK:

(reluctant)

He's better.

MARY:

Look, I'm sorry, but it's important

to me. I mean, a week ago I was

wishing he was dead. And now I want

hear his voice again, just once more--

you know what I mean?

Marcus enters with a small pizza and two cokes.

MARCUS:

Went over to Sal's got this. There

must be some place in Hell for a guy

who sells a dollar-fifty a slice. I

call you if anything comes up.

FRANK:

Thanks.

Marcus exits.

MARY:

I'm not really hungry.

She says as she picks up a slice of cheese pizza.

MARY (CONT'D)

My father was a great man, you know.

There was nobody he wouldn't help.

You know that crazy guy Noel who I

gave water to last night? He lived

in our house for almost a year. A

total stranger he'd do anything for,

his own family though ...

FRANK:

It's best not to ...

(off her look)

It's good pizza, huh?

MARY:

Not as good as Nino's.

FRANK:

You remember that pizza place, Joe's

on Tenth Street maybe fifteen years

ago? When you ordered a pie it came

with a little plastic madonna in the

middle?

MARY:

Yeah, or Saint Anthony. You from the

neighborhood?

FRANK:

I grew up on Elizabeth. I went to

Blessed Sacrament.

MARY:

On yeah? I went to Holy Name. Where'd

you go to high school?

FRANK:

We moved out after that. Upstate.

MARY:

Like everybody else--except us. Always

standing on the sidewalk waving

goodbye to moving trucks. Your parents

... ?

FRANK:

They're fine. My old man was a bus

driver, mom a nurse--I was sort of

born to it, I guess.

MARY:

You married?

FRANK:

Ah, no. I was.

(beat)

It's hard to explain. She had a hard

time adjusting to, well, maybe it

was my fault too.

Pause. This thought hangs in the air. From outside: a

BELLICOSE DRUNK is escorted into the ER.

DRUNK (O.S.)

White cocksuckers! Get your--Ow!

MARY:

Is it always this bad in here? I

mean, how does anyone survive?

FRANK:

It's been bad lately, but it's always

bad.

MARY:

How long you been doing this?

FRANK:

Five years.

MARY:

Wow, you musta seen some things,

huh? What's the worst thing you ever

seen?

FRANK:

You learn to sort of block it out,

you know, like cops fence off a crime

scene. But then something good will

happen and everything will just glow.

MARY:

You must get a lot of overdoses. I

bet you picked me up a couple of

times.

FRANK:

I think I'd remember that.

MARY:

Maybe not. I was a different person

then. Does everybody you meet spill

their problems on you like this?

FRANK:

Mostly. It must be my face. My mother

always said I looked like a priest.

MARY:

(wipes her mouth)

I better go check on my father. Thanks

for the pizza. I owe you one. Maybe

when he gets better, you know, when

we're done with all this.

FRANK:

Sure.

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