Bringing Out the Dead Page #4

Frank and Mary step out into the humid night.

CUT TO:

EXT. MERCY EMERGENCY--NIGHT

Checking behind then, Frank stops. Mary pauses before she

speaks:

MARY:

Is there any chance?

FRANK:

(shakes head)

I guess there's always a chance.

The doors break open. Noel comes flying out, bounces on the

sidewalk. Griss, in the doorway, closes the doors.

Mary goes over to Noel:

MARY:

Noel, Noel, it's me, Mary. From 17th

Street.

NOEL:

Mary, Mary, Mary. I'm so thirsty.

They won't give me anything to drink.

Please, Mary.

MARY:

(heading inside)

I'll get you some.

Frank watches:
Mary returns with a cup of water, gives it to

a grateful Noel.

FRANK:

I wouldn't do that.

(Noel drinks)

The doctor seems to think he's

suffering from some rare disorder.

MARY:

It's not so rare. He grew up on our

street. He's had a rough life and

he's a little crazy from it, but

that's no excuse for not giving

someone a lousy cup of water.

Mary starts to cry. Frank fumbles in his pocket, finds a

tissue, gives it to her.

MARY (CONT'D)

My father's dying, Noel.

NOEL:

Oh Mary, Mary, Mary.

Noel hugs her clumsily, his shoulders bobbing. Frank watches,

realizing this is what he should have done for her.

CUT TO:

EXT. EAST SIDE STREETS--NIGHT

13 Zebra cruising down Avenue C, Frank at the wheel, Larry

shotgun.

LARRY:

The Chinese close in five minutes.

Beef lo mein. It's been on my

mind since I woke. Whatjathink?

FRANK:

I think the moment that food hits

your mouth we'll get a job.

LARRY:

Turn here. You missed it. The Chink

is on 3rd.

Franks turns, gets jammed up behind a pimp car at Second and

Avenue B, a corner populated by pushers and hookers. TWO

WHORES stand in front of an abandoned building. Frank turns

to look.

WHORE #1

Hey ambulance man. What you looking

at?

The second whore, wearing a yellow vinyl coat, turns. She

has a face that instantly freezes Frank: the Rose face.

Pregnant, she gestures to her belly:

WHORE #2

Pretty soon you'll be coming for me.

LARRY:

Some partner you are Frank. I coulda

walked there faster. I'm starving

and you stop to talk to hookers.

You're making me nuts. Is that what

you're trying to do, drag me down

with you to nutsville?

Frank hits the whoop-whoop siren. The pimps in the black BMW

jump, look back, realize its only an ambulance, and pull

away.

LARRY (CONT'D)

(slams dashboard)

Oh no!--I just remembered.

FRANK:

What?

LARRY:

I'm so stupid. I had beef lo mein

last night. I can't eat the same

thing two nights in a row. It's almost

two o'clock, what the hell am I gonna

do? What you getting?

FRANK:

I'm not hungry.

LARRY:

Oh yeah, you don't eat food.

FRANK:

I eat. I just haven't had coffee

yet.

LARRY:

Coffee and whiskey, lucky you ain't

dead with that diet. Wait, I've got

it. Half fried chicken with fries.

Let's go, hurry up. Come on.

Frank speeds up Avenue B. Noel, wearing generic homeless

combat fatigues, muttering to his friends in Hell, passes on

the sidewalk. Frank notices another hooker, catches her face:

the same face as the pregnant Whore #2. The Rose face. His

mind drifts:

FRANK (V.O.)

Rose was getting closer. Ever since

the call a month before, when I'd

lost her, she seemed like all the

girls in the neighborhood. One of

the first things you learn is to

avoid bad memories. I used to be an

expert, but lately I'd found some

holes. Anything could trigger it.

The last month belonged to Rose, but

there were a hundred more ready to

come out.

CUT TO:

EXT. CHICKEN TAKE-OUT--NIGHT

The EMS vehicle is stopped at a fast food joint. Larry orders,

waits.

FRANK (V.O.)

These spirits were part of the job.

It was impossible to pass a building

that didn't bold the spirit of

something:
the eyes of a corpse, the

screams of a loved one. All bodies

leave their mark. You cannot be near

the new dead without feeling it.

Larry gets his chicken, chats with counter clerk, returns.

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

I could handle that. What haunted me

now was more savage: spirits born

half-finished, homicides, suicides,

overdoses, innocent or not, accusing

me of being there, witnessing a

humiliation which they could never

forgive.

Larry climbs in, sets his take-out on the dash, hands Frank

a coffee. A police walkie-talkie is in the front tray.

LARRY:

Turn it off.

FRANK:

What?

LARRY:

You know what. The radio.

POLICE DISPATCH:

Ladder Four, respond to a 10-22 four

flight residential, 317 East 32nd.

LARRY:

Let's do it. It might be a good one.

FRANK:

You wanted it turned off. There's no

such thing as a good fire. People

get burned up. They can't breathe.

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