Frequency Page #11

JOHN:

Nah, I gave it up.

ON FRANK:

Johnny gave up baseball?

FRANK:

You happy?

John takes a sip, the answer caught in his throat.

FRANK (CONT'D)

You're still my Little Chief, right?

JOHN:

I'm trying to be, Dad. I'm tyrin'.

(pausing)

It's good to hear your voice.

(quiet beat)

I missed you...so much.

Quiet beat. A burst of static crackles the air.

JOHN (CONT'D)

(re:
static)

What's that?

FRANK:

I think I'm losing you.

JOHN:

No wait, don't go!

FRANK:

It's okay. I'm still here, Chief.

JOHN:

But you're not...you're not still here.

More static. The signal breaks up, then returns weaker.

FRANK:

What are you talking about?

JOHN:

I lost you.

FRANK:

What?

JOHN:

I never knew you, Dad.

FRANK:

Why?

JOHN:

Fire.

FRANK:

On the job?

JOHN:

It was an abandoned warehouse - hit by

lightening.

(beat)

Butch told Ma it was just one wrong turn.

Said it wasn't your fault. You went with

the training, with your instincts.

(beat)

If you'd just gone left instead of right,

you would've made it.

FRANK:

That can't be...that's not gonna happen.

JOHN:

It did, Pop. It did.

FRANK:

When?

JOHN:

October 12, 1969.

Heavy static now. They can barely hear each other.

FRANK:

But that's tomorrow.

JOHN:

(fully realizing)

Tomorrow. Jesus...it hasn't happened.

It doesn't have to happen.

Both men frantic. Their words overlapping...

JOHN (CONT'D)

Don't go. Don't go in that warehouse...

FRANK:

I don't understand.

Final blast of static. The SIGNAL is GONE. The BAND is

GONE.

INT. SULLIVAN HOUSE - JOHNNY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT - 1969

Moonlight casts a glow over the sleeping Johnny. Frank steps

in and stands looking down at him.

EXT. ROOF OF JOHN'S HOUSE - NIGHT - 1998

John crawls out a window, through the rain, onto the roof.

JOHN'S POV

Rusted Ham radio antenna, half-fallen over.

John scoots over to it, straightening it. But he slips,

sliding down the roof, coming to rest against the chimney.

A light pops on from an upstairs window across the street.

Gordo appears in the window. Does a double take when he sees

John, sitting on the roof, soaked, drunk.

GORDO:

(sliding open window)

Sull! What the hell!

JOHN:

I talked to him Gordo. I talked to my

Dad.

Gordo's heart starts to break. His best friend has slipped

over the edge.

GORDO:

C'mon, man. Get inside. I'll come over.

We'll play some Nintendo.

JOHN:

No. I gotta tell him the address, so he

doesn't go in.

GORDO:

Go in where?

JOHN:

The warehouse. Buxton seeds. It's

tomorrow.

GORDO:

I know pal. I remember. Twenty-nine

years tomorrow.

The LEGEND reads:

OCTOBER 12th - SECOND GAME OF THE WORLD SERIES

EXT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE/BUXTON SEED CO. - AFTERNOON - 1969

BLACK CLOUDS, EARTH SHATTERING THUNDER. A massive BOLT OF

LIGHTNING rockets out of the menacing sky STRIKING THROUGH A

WINDOW on the 3rd floor of the warehouse. A FIRE BEGINS.

INT. FIRE HOUSE - 9TH BATTALION/REC ROOM - CONTINUOUS

GAME 2 plays on TV. Butch, Gibson and the rest of the unit

sit around enjoying the game. A very distracted Frank stands

watching from the doorway to the kitchen.

We are in the bottom of the 9th with the Baltimore Orioles'

Brooks Robinson coming to the plate.

GIBSON:

Oh, man. Robinson is gonna nail it and

we're gonna be dead.

SUDDENLY THE ALARM SOUNDS, moving the groaning firemen

reluctantly to action, and freezing Frank in surging anxiety.

Gibson is up and passing Frank...who begins to move like he's

in a trance.

A RAPID MONTAGE of Frank, Butch and the others readying to

head out. Gibson grabs a little TRANSISTOR RADIO.

BUTCH:

Let's move it, gentlemen...three alarm.

Lit up abandoned warehouse. West 49th.

Frank looks like he's going to throw up.

EXT. MANHATTAN ST. - COP BAR - DUSK - 1998

John, lost in thought, rounds a corner towards the bar.

EXT. STREET - LADDER TRUCK - MOVING - AFTERNOON - 1969

The LADDER & ENGINE trucks barrel out of the firehouse.

As SIRENS SCREAM, Frank and Gibson secure themselves into

position. Gibson excitedly switches on his radio to the

game. He notes that Frank is not the least bit into it.

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