Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Page #5

JOEL:

Yeah. I think so. It's hard to --

CLEMENTINE:

Like I wanted to talk to you. I didn't

need any more reason to do it. Who knows

what bigger cosmic reason might exist?

JOEL:

Yeah.

CLEMENTINE:

You're very nice. God, I have to stop

saying that. You're nervous around me,

huh?

JOEL:

No.

CLEMENTINE:

I'm nervous. You don't need to be

nervous around me, though. I like you.

Do you think I'm repulsively fat?

JOEL:

No, not at all.

CLEMENTINE:

I don't either. I used to. But I'm

through with that. Y'know, if I don't

love my body, then I'm just lost. You

know?

CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)

With all the wrinkles and scars and the

general falling apart that's coming

'round the bend.

(beat)

So, I've been seeing this guy...

Joel looks slightly crestfallen.

CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)

(off his reaction)

Well, for the last week, anyway! He's

kind of a kid. Kind of a goofball, but

he's really stuck on me, which is

flattering. Who wouldn't like that? And

he's, like, a dope, but he says these

smart and moving things sometimes, out of

nowhere, that just break my heart. He's

the one who gave me that crow photograph.

JOEL:

Oh, yeah.

CLEMENTINE:

That made me cry. But, anyway, we went

up to Boston, because I had this urge to

lie on my back on the Charles River. It

gets frozen this time of year.

JOEL:

That's scary sounding.

CLEMENTINE:

Exactly! I used to do it in college and

I had this urge to go do it again, so I

got Patrick and we drove all night to get

there and he was sweet and said nice

things to me, but I was really

disappointment to be there with him.

Y'know? And that's where psychic stuff

comes in. Like, it just isn't right with

him. Y'know?

JOEL:

I think so.

CLEMENTINE:

I don't believe in that soulmate crap

anymore, but... he says so many great

things. We like the same writers. This

writer Stephen Dixon he turned me on to.

And he's cute. It's f***ed up. Joel,

you should come up to the Charles with me

sometime.

JOEL:

Okay.

CLEMENTINE:

Yeah? Oh, great!

She sits closer to him.

CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)

I'll pack a picnic -- a night picnic --

night picnics are different -- and --

JOEL:

(shy)

Sounds good. But right now I should go.

CLEMENTINE:

(pause)

You should stay.

JOEL:

I have to get up early in the morning

tomorrow, so...

CLEMENTINE:

(beat)

Okay.

Joel puts on his overcoat. Clementine heads to the phone

table, pulls out a notepad.

CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)

I would like you to call me. Would you

do that? I would like that.

JOEL:

Yes.

She scribbles her phone number, hands it to him. He puts it

in his pocket. He stands there uncomfortably for a moment,

then forces himself to speak.

JOEL (CONT'D)

I don't think your personality comes out

of a tube. I think the hair is just... a

pretty topping.

She tears up, swallows, and kisses him on the cheek. He's

surprised and pleased and nervous.

JOEL (CONT'D)

(shyly formal)

So, I enjoyed meeting you.

CLEMENTINE:

You'll call me, right?

JOEL:

Yeah.

CLEMENTINE:

When?

JOEL:

Tomorrow?

CLEMENTINE:

Tonight. Just to test out the phone

lines and all.

JOEL:

Okay.

We stay with Clementine as she watches Joel tromping through

the snow and getting in his car.

INT. JOEL'S CAR - NIGHT

Joel speeds through the suburban Rockville Center

neighborhood. There is no snow on the ground. He seems

different, somehow foggy and disoriented.

SUBTITLE:
THREE DAYS EARLIER

He arrives at his apartment building and parks.

EXT. JOEL'S APARTMENT BUILDING - CONTINUOUS

Joel gets out of his car, spots a van parked across the

street. There are two dark figures inside.

VOICE-OVER

Them.

He hurries inside the building.

INT. JOEL'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Joel enters, dumps his overcoat on a chair, turns off the

lights, crosses to look furtively out the window. It's

snowing in large flakes which seem to fall only in the beam

of a streetlight.

JOEL:

It was snowing.

VOICE-OVER

There are two of them. Couldn't make

them out. The orange glow of a

cigarette.

Joel squints to see inside the van. Two dark figures talk.

One sucks on a cigarette and s dim orange light momentarily

illuminates the interior. The figure in the driver seat

rolls down his window and gives a cheery wave to Joel.

JOEL:

The driver waved. So casual, friendly.

VOICE-OVER

I'm like a joke to them.

Joel pulls away from the window, his face blanched.

VOICE-OVER

I guess they figure they can act like

they want. They don't have to worry

about me remembering.

He paces, mulling things over. As he does, the scene starts

to change, almost as if it is drying out.

JOEL:

I might be making a mistake.

VOICE-OVER

Maybe I'm making a mistake. Maybe I just

need to learn to live with this. First

of all, I'll get over it. Secondly, it

happened. Those who do not remember

history are condemned to repeat it. Who

said that? Churchill? I'm not sure.

But I don't care. She did it to me. I

have to rid myself of this. F*** her.

JOEL:

F*** you, Clementine.

The colors bleach, the surroundings become slightly vague.

Even Joel's persona and voice-over seem to alter, his

emotional intensity becoming diffused. Joel does not seem

aware of this. He stops pacing, takes a small vial from his

pocket, dumps the lone pill onto his palm. He looks at it.

It's pink. There's some illegible initials stamped on it.

JOEL (CONT'D)

Pink.

(beat)

There was a number on it. I remember.

AL 1718?

(beat)

I have to follow through with this. I

have no choice.

VOICE-OVER

The pill was pink, I remember. It had

some letters and numbers on it. What

were they? AL 1718? AL something. Four

digits. I don't like taking pills when I

don't know what they are. I have no

choice.

He swallows it, peeks out the window again, takes off his

clothes, slips into a pair of pajamas fresh from the store

packaging. He sits on the edge of the bed, dials the phone.

JOEL (CONT'D)

We're sorry, the number you have

dialed...

(beat)

Screw you, Clementine, for doing this ...

RECORDED VOICE:

We're sorry, the number you have dialed

is no longer in service. If you think

you have reached this recording in error

-

JOEL (CONT'D)

Bye.

Joel hangs up and lies on his back on the bed. By now the

scene is lifeless, almost a husk. He hears the apartment

building door open. He hears footsteps.

JOEL (CONT'D)

It's them.

VOICE-OVER

It's too late.

His eyelids are getting heavy. He closes his eyes.

BLACK.

He hears a key in his apartment door.

JOEL (CONT'D)

F***.

INT. BOOKSTORE - NIGHT

Joel sits in the bookstore coffee shop. It's a jarring

transition, visually and emotionally. Joel is in the midst

of some traumatic state of mind.

He fingers the vial with the pink pill in it as he watches

Clementine stack books on shelves. Her hair is bright orange

now.

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