Bringing Out the Dead Page #13

Frank puts his hand out but she's already on her feet. He

grabs the last slice of pizza, hands it to Griss as she heads

back to Critical Care.

FRANK (CONT'D)

Look after her, Griss, okay?

Griss nods.

CUT TO:

EXT. CANAL STREET--NIGHT

12 Young back on the job, moving with traffic.

MARCUS:

Rule number one:
Don't get involved

with patients. Rule number two: Don't

get involved with patient's daughters.

You understand?

FRANK:

What about rule number three: Don't

get involved with dispatchers named

Love.

MARCUS:

You don't know the first thing about

rule number three, cannot begin to

understand the complexities of that

rule. Come on, let's go look at some

hookers. The Kit Kat will be letting

out.

(relevant to nothing)

Don't ever call a junkie whore a

crackhead. They get real mad.

Marcus swings up First Ave:

MARCUS (CONT'D)

Look at these women. You can't even

tell who's a hooker anymore. Whatever

happened to go-go boots and hot pants?

They wear anything now, walk outta

the house with whatever they got

on ...

Frank watches night tableaus (police cars flashing, lovers

kissing, woman crying hysterically, drunken slugfest) as his

mind wanders:

FRANK (V.O.)

The street is so much more

unpredictable than the ER and to

prepare for the unexpected I was

taught to act without thinking, like

an army private who can take apart

and reassemble a gun blindfolded ...

Frank notices another EMS bus: Tom Walls wheeling a stretcher--

Noel, face bloodied, lies restrained as Walls' partner opens

the rear doors.

FRANK (V.O.) (CONT'D)

I realized that my training was useful

in less than ten percent of the calls

and saving someone's life was rarer

than that. As the years went by I

grew to understand that my role was

less about saving lives than about

bearing witness. I was a grief mop

and much of my job was to remove, if

even for a short time, the grief

starter or the grief product. It was

enough I simply showed up.

Marcus continues as if uninterrupted:

MARCUS:

... look at her. Leaves you no idea

what's underneath, not even a

suggestion. Could be a skeleton for

all you know.

They pass a working girl in a rain slicker who pulls off her

hood to look at them: a familiar face.

MARCUS (CONT'D)

Nice though, pulling back her hood

as we drive by. There's a mystery to

it, then she shows you.

FRANK:

She's no whore, Marcus.

MARCUS:

We're all whores, Frank. You know

what I'm talking about, the way she

looked at me.

FRANK:

She wasn't looking at you, man, she

was looking at me.

Frank, looking back at the Rose face, hears her faintly say:

"ROSE"

Why did you kill me, Frank?

FRANK:

I didn't kill you.

Marcus, not hearing "Rose's" voice, replies:

MARCUS:

No, you didn't, Frank, thank you.

But there's still a couple hours

left on the shift.

FRANK:

I need a drink, that's all.

Dispatcher Love's voice cuts through:

DISPATCHER LOVE:

Twelve Young, answer the radio. I

have a call for you.

MARCUS:

She said to me, I love the way you

talk on the radio.

DISPATCHER LOVE:

I can't wait all night, Young. I'm

holding a priority and if you don't

answer I'm going to knock you out of

service.

MARCUS:

(keys radio)

Don't worry, hon. Young is here and

he's gonna help out--just remember,

you owe me.

DISPATCHER LOVE:

You're going to three-four Avenue C,

17 year-old female cardiac arrest,

no further information.

MARCUS:

Ten-four, hon.

Marcus hits the siren.

CUT TO:

INT. RUNDOWN TENEMENT--NIGHT

Frank and Marcus standing in a no-income apartment with their

cardiac equipment. MARIA, a 17 year-old Hispanic girl, lies

moaning and breathing shallow on a ratty sofa. CARLOS, her

equally young boyfriend, watches anxiously, holding a candle

for light.

MARCUS:

Look at that. A fat junkie. That's a

first.

FRANK:

(to Maria)

What's wrong.

Carlos speaks broken English:

CARLOS:

No English. She has terrible pain in

her belly.

FRANK:

(hands on stomach)

Pregnant.

CARLOS:

No, no, that's impossible.

FRANK:

Are you pregnant? Estas embarazada?

Maria shakes her head, looks away.

FRANK (CONT'D)

Can you walk? Puedes caminar?

CARLOS:

She say she in great pain.

FRANK:

Thanks for the translation.

(to Maria)

What's your name? Nombre?

MARIA:

Maria.

FRANK:

Let's have a look.

MARCUS:

(to Carlos)

You know each other a long time?

CARLOS:

Two years. Ever since we left island.

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