Five Easy Pieces Page #10

BOBBY:

Well, I wouldn't want to get too

invigorated myself.

CATHERINE:

Why?

BOBBY:

What would I do with it? Run amok?

She comes up the stairs.

BOBBY (CONT'D)

Besides piano and swimming, what

else do you do?

CATHERINE:

Well, there's fishing and boating.

There's concerts on the mainland

and... but I feel silly telling

you. This is really your home. You

probably know better than I what

there is to do.

BOBBY:

Nothing.

CATHERINE:

Nothing? Then it must be very

boring for you here.

BOBBY:

That's right. Have you anything to

suggest?

CATHERINE:

I don't know. Let me give it some

thought.

She moves toward the front door, with Bobby

following.

BOBBY:

What're you doing right now...

INT. DUPEA HOME - DAY

Catherine comes inside and moves toward the

stairway, with Bobby behind.

CATHERINE:

Right now I'm going to run a hot

tub and soak myself.

BOBBY:

Then after that?

She goes up a few steps and turns back to him.

CATHERINE:

After that, I plan to read some

music and rest for awhile.

BOBBY:

Tomorrow, then.

CATHERINE:

Tomorrow's a full practice day...

(continues up the stairs)

But the day after is kind of open.

At the top of the stairs, she stops and looks down

at him.

CATHERINE (CONT'D)

Carl has hydrotherapy on Tuesdays.

BOBBY:

(as if it were a year)

The day after tomorrow.

CATHERINE:

If you're free.

BOBBY:

Yeah, I'll probably be free.

She turns and disappears into the second-floor

hallway.

INT. DUPEA KITCHEN - NIGHT

Dinner has concluded and Tita moves around the

table, distributing cups and saucers. Carl is

remote and off his feed. Spicer attends Nicholas,

and Catherine looks across the table to Bobby as he

drinks from a bottle of beer.

After a moment, a loud belch comes from Nicholas

and Tita quickly requests:

TITA:

Don't laugh...

She attempts to stifle her own amusement, as do

Bobby and Catherine, then changes the subject:

TITA (CONT'D)

What's wrong, Carl, you hardly ate

anything...

CARL:

I took some aspirin and it really

upset my stomach.

Catherine begins pouring the coffee.

CATHERINE:

One thing that's hard to understand

is how you could have this

incredible background in music, and

then just walk away from it,

without a second thought...

BOBBY:

I gave it a second thought.

Tita seats herself at the table, addressing Spicer:

TITA:

He looks tired to me, Spicer. I

think you should put him to bed.

He nods, and as he gets up and wheels Nicholas from

the room:

CATHERINE:

I mean, how could you not play

anymore? That's so strange to me...

BOBBY:

I have played a few times. Here and

there. As a matter of fact, I was

once a rehearsal pianist for a Las

Vegas musical revue.

CATHERINE:

You don't call that music, though.

BOBBY:

Of course I do. It's music. You

know...

He places his hands on the table and simulates the

playing of a rousing production-type show-stopper,

simultaneously vocalizing as he does.

Though Tita and Catherine are amused, Carl winces

disapprovingly and breaks into Bobby's act:

CARL:

Robert, do you mind?

BOBBY:

What?

CARL:

Nothing. Will you excuse us for a

while?

He takes hold of Catherine's hand and stands up.

CATHERINE:

We really don't have to, Carl, if

you're not feeling good...

CARL:

(a bit martyred)

Well, maybe if we put the

Thermaphore on me for a while,

first...

CATHERINE:

Oh, all right.

And as they move to the door, she glances

apologetically back at Bobby.

Deflated and embarrassed, he looks away from Tita's

sympathetic gaze. After a brief silence, she

reaches to a platter on the table.

TITA:

Do you want some gingerbread?

BOBBY:

(elsewhere)

What?

TITA:

With applesauce?

BOBBY:

No, thanks...

INT. DUPEA LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Bobby stands in the living room. It is dark and the

only light comes from some burning logs in the

fireplace. He listens briefly to the sounds of a

Beethoven sonata coming from the music room...

... then moves to a chaise near the fireplace and

lies down, staring absently into the flames. After

a moment, he closes his eyes.

ANOTHER ANGLE:

on his sleeping face as the sonata begins to FADE.

INT. DUPEA LIVING ROOM - MORNING

ON BOBBY:

still asleep in the chaise. He is suddenly jolted

awake by a loud thud and sits up, looking out the

window to:

POV OF SPICER:

lifting a barbell with heavy weights attached to

it. He does a series of vigorous presses with it,

before he again lets the bar drop heavily onto the

porch.

INT. DUPEA HOME - UPSTAIRS HALL - DAY

(BACH VIOLIN OVER:)

Bobby stands in the hallway, a phone to his ear,

listening to Rayette and looking down the hall

toward the open door to Catherine's room.

BOBBY:

Yeah, well fine, you know what I

suggest, Ray...

(listening)

Because I don't know how long.

Things are not going that well

here...

He listens again, his eyes on Catberine, moving

around in her room.

BOBBY (CONT'D)

Yeah, well I'm not having any fun,

either, so why don't you...

(pause)

No, you can't, it's just not

convenient, and I have to get

off...

(listening impatiently)

Ray, I really have to go, I have to

get off now...

(longer pause)

Another couple of days, maybe. I'll

call you and let you --

(pause)

All right, if you're gone, you're

gone. Now I have to get off, okay?

(pause)

Bye, Ray...

He hangs up and, as he starts down the hall to

Catherine's room, the VIOLIN STOPS and Carl steps

out into the hall ahead of him. He carries his

fiddle and detains Bobby, with:

CARL:

Only 10 minutes of playing and it's

already killing my neck...

Bobby looks past him to Catherine as she glances

out at them and then closes the door to her room.

EXT. DUPEA GROUNDS - DAY

Bobby and Carl, playing a game of table tennis.

Tita stands leaning against a tree, watching them.

In the b.g., Spicer can be seen, meticulously

oiling and cleaning the wheelchair.

As they volley the ball back and forth:

BOBBY:

You sure you should be playing,

Carl?

CARL:

What do you mean? Aside from my

neck, I'm in superb shape.

Carl hits into the net, and as the ball rebounds to

him, he tosses it to Bobby.

BOBBY:

(serving)

I don't know, there's something

wrong with the way you move.

Carl hits the net again.

CARL:

I'm not aware of it. Like what?

BOBBY:

Your serve. Two -- Eighteen.

Carl serves and as they volley:

BOBBY (CONT'D)

I'd hate to see you walk across a

concert stage like that.

Carl tries a smash and mis-hits the ball...

BOBBY (CONT'D)

Two -- Nineteen.

... and as he retrieves it:

CARL:

(irritated with Bobby)

I've walked across a stage a number

of times, without exciting any

particular response...

BOBBY:

That's what I mean...

Carl comes back to the table.

CARL:

Any particular humor, I meant.

He angrily serves the ball.

BOBBY:

(returning)

I think you should get someone to

coach you how to walk. I think it's

a substantial problem.

He hits a smash and it sails past Carl into some

shrubbery several yards away.

CARL:

Dammit!

As he moves after the ball, Bobby gestures at him.

BOBBY:

Look at that.

TITA:

Why are you being so mean?

BOBBY:

I'm not. He does walk funny. Don't

you see that?

She looks at Carl, bent over and searching through

the shrubs.

Rate this script:4.3 / 3 votes