Candyman Page #2

regurgitating all the usual crap

about urban legend.

We've got a real shot here, Bernadette.

A community attributes the daily horrors

of their lives to a mythical figure.

If Trevor and Archie were here,

would they chicken out?

- In a second.

- Exactly.

All right.

- You wanna wait here for me?

- No.

Well, then let's go.

- Check 'em out.

- Lock the car.

Hey, now.

Want somethin', baby?

I got it for you.

Say, yo, mama.

Come on, baby.

Yo, baby.

- Which way you goin'?

- Just going inside.

Yeah?

- You can't come up in here.

- Who you lookin' for?

- Just going up to see a friend.

- Sure you're not the police?

Look like Five-O to me.

Ask blondie where she goin'.

- Who you goin' to see?

- Let's take the stairs. Come on.

Where you all goin' there?

Heads up, people.

Five-O comin' up the back door. Police!

It's OK. They think we're cops.

They're not going to follow us.

Hang on.

- Look at this.

- This is great.

"Sweets to... "

- "The sweet. "

- "Sweets to the sweet. "

- Hurry up, Helen.

- Lemme get the door.

- Sorry.

- Jesus, Helen.

- Here it is.

- Don't go in there.

Come on.

Jesus, it stinks.

I was right.

The layout is identical.

Which means that the bathroom

is over there.

- Helen...

- What's the problem?

A woman died in there.

Leave it.

It's all right.

There's nothing to see.

- Wait.

- This is where he broke through, right?

Yeah.

- Well, we found it. Let's go.

- Wait a second.

OK. Hang onto this.

I'm just gonna go through.

- Then we're outta here.

- You're kidding.

It's a derelict apartment.

What if somebody's

packing drugs in there?

You gonna apologise

and give 'em your card? Huh?

All right. Let's listen.

- There's nobody in there.

- OK.

Hurry up. Be careful.

Give me the camera.

- You got five minutes.

- OK. Five.

Damn it.

Bernadette! Sorry.

- I ran out of film. I gotta go back.

- No way.

- You can't...

- No, way, Helen. We're outta here!

Hey, what y'all doin' in there?

We're just leaving.

- You here for the sweets?

- No. We're not cops.

- We're from the university.

- You don't belong here, lady.

Goin' through people's apartments

and things.

My name is Helen Lyle.

This is Bernadette Walsh.

We're doing a thesis, and we were

wondering if we could talk to you.

Here. This is my card.

My baby.

Come on. Let's go.

Whites don't ever come here,

'cept to cause us a problem.

Believe me, that's not

what we want to do.

Let's go in.

So you're doing a study?

What you gonna say?

That we're bad? Hmm?

We steal? We gang-bang?

We all on drugs, right?

We ain't all like

them a**holes downstairs.

I just wanna raise my child good.

- He's a beautiful little boy.

- He's all I got.

- What's his name?

- Anthony.

I'm Anne-Marie.

Anne-Marie McCoy.

- Nice to meet you.

- Sorry we disturbed you.

- We'll just get out of your way.

- It's OK.

I don't mean to be rude. It's...

You know, the white folks

that come round here

ain't too handshakin' with us.

- Hey, what you doin'?

- Let me help you.

Making a mess here, huh?

Thank you. Thanks.

- You got kids?

- No, but I'd love one.

Hey...

Got my eye on this one, big time.

Yeah.

They're not gonna get him.

You wanna know about Ruthie Jean?

They all been here, you know?

Newspapers, cops.

Case workers. They all wanna know.

I heard her screamin'.

I heard her right through the walls.

I dialled 911.

Nobody came.

Nobody came.

Everybody scared.

He come right through these walls,

you know?

I- I'm scared.

Scared for my child.

- They ain't never gonna catch him.

- Who?

Candyman.

If they saw something they liked,

they'd point.

They thought it was rude to point.

- What did they do?

- They went...

Spat over people.

Quite extraordinary.

- Be nice.

- I am being nice.

So how are the two most beautiful

graduate students getting along?

Trevor tells me you've been dabbling

in my favourite subject.

I can't wait to review your data.

I can fit you in tomorrow.

We're not ready yet.

That's the moment at which

I can be of greatest assistance.

Before you disappear down a path

to academic oblivia.

I think I've been there.

Actually, Purcell,

we're about to bury you.

- Helen...

- What?

We'll have something for you soon.

- We only went to Cabrini today, and...

- Ah! Cabrini-Green.

Candyman country.

If you're after the hook man, read the

paper I wrote about him ten years ago.

You do know the story, don't you?

No...

Then how are you going to bury me?

The legend first appeared in 1890.

Candyman was the son of a slave.

His father had amassed a considerable

fortune from designing a device

for the mass-producing of shoes

after the Civil War.

Candyman had been

sent to the best schools

and had grown up in polite society.

He had a prodigious talent

as an artist

and was much sought after when it came

to the documenting of one's wealth

and position in society in a portrait.

It was in this latter capacity

that he was commissioned

by a wealthy landowner

to capture

his daughter's virginal beauty.

Well, of course,

they fell deeply in love,

and she became pregnant.

Hmph.

Poor Candyman.

The father executed

a terrible revenge.

He paid a pack of brutal hooligans

to do the deed.

They chased Candyman

through the town to Cabrini-Green,

where they proceeded to saw off

his right hand with a rusty blade.

No one came to his aid.

But this was just the beginning

of his ordeal.

Nearby there was an apiary. Dozens

of hives, filled with hungry bees.

They smashed the hives

and stole the honeycomb...

...and smeared it

over his prone, naked body.

Candyman was stung to death

by the bees.

They burned his body

on a giant pyre

and then scattered his ashes

over Cabrini-Green.

Hello.

Anne-Marie ain't in.

- Are you sure?

- Yeah. She said you'd be back.

What's your name?

Jake.

Well, listen, Jake,

maybe you can help me out.

I wanted to find out

about that woman who got killed.

Do you know anything about that?

Her name was Ruthie Jean.

I don't know nothin'.

Did anybody else talk about it?

It's OK to talk to me, Jake.

Cos I'm not a cop.

- So nobody's gonna get in trouble.

- I can't say nothin',

or Candyman'll get me.

Candyman, huh?

You scared of him?

I ain't scared of nobody.

But you're crazy

walkin' here on your own.

- It ain't safe around here.

- Yeah, I know.

But I don't scare

too easy either, Jake.

You know, you don't have to tell me.

You could just show me.

And if you show me where Candyman is,

I'll make you a promise.

It'll be our secret.

Unless you're too scared.

- Somebody building a bonfire?

- Yeah, for the party.

In there.

- Candyman's in there?

- My friend Charlie says so.

A boy got killed there.

- Who was he?

- Ain't sure.

Charlie tell me he was weird.

- He was crazy?

- No, a retard.

His mom was in the store.

And the boy

needed to go to the bathroom.

His mom was takin' her time,

choosin' this, lookin' at that.

So the boy started moanin'.

His mom get mad at him.

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