Hancock Page #17

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

Hancock.

Erected before us, the immediate product of a mediocre haircut -

he looks plain and un-super. He looks... goofy.

MARY:

There... my hero.

He inspects himself via a hand MIRROR. Smiles. Politely.

76.

MARY (CONT'D)

(CONTINUING)

How do you like it?

HANCOCK:

Nice. Thank you.

Mary - peripatetic, putting away things...

MARY:

I started out just trimming for Horus.

Here and there. He had to look just right

for the academy, says his father, a

police captain there... in Philly. When

we moved here, I pretty much took over as

the resident barber. You know, to save

some money.

HANCOCK:

He was in the-police academy?

A pause.

MARY:

His father's idea. Not his. He went

through it anyway, like he had something

to prove... the validation of his

manhood.

(BEAT)

It tpok everything out of him. He didn't

talk for days after he was cut. He took

it real hard. I mean, still, he's not...

I mean,, he's still...

(edits herself)

.it was a difficult time for hi.. Me. I

understand that I'm not intolerant of it,

the working-through process. It's just

that, sometimes...

(at Hancock)

sometimes, I need his strength. I

miss. the strength.

HANCOCK:

Is that what you want?

MARY:

Want?

HANCOCK:

What you need?

MARY:

The hair... I need to...

77.

She kneels to sweep up hair. Hancock follows her down.

HANCOCK:

Mary?

MARY:

Yes?

HANCOCK:

(BEAT)

You ever been down the boardwalk, at

night?

MARY:

Why... what for?

They're eye to eye. Close.

AARON (O.S.)

Mom?

Mary bursts from her perch - regroups, awkwardly. Aaron stands

in the hallway, his hair still wet from the shower.

MARY:

Yes.

Inside Aaron's head: My mother + Hancock? Nah!

AARON:

my mouth. It's starting to swell. I

think he loosened a tooth.

Mary - maternal duty calls.

MARY:

All right. Go to your room. I'll get the

ice pack.

Aaron exits. Mary exits.

Hancock - alone and on his knees. He finally rises. Heads for

the front door.

Mary returns with the ice pack. Catches him...

MARY (CONT' D)

You're leaving?

HANCOCK:

It's getting late.

78.

MARY:

I'm sorry.

HANCOCK:

I'm going to take a walk.

MARY:

Really? On the boardwalk?

HANCOCK:

Maybe.

Pause.

AARON (O.S.)

Mom.'

MARY:

I'm sorry.

She goes to him, without words to say. In this silence, he

stares at her his eyes, glazed with thought.

HANCOCK:

(FINALLY)

Good night, Mary.

MARY:

Good night.

INT. WATANABE'S SHOPPING EMPORIUM - NIGHT

The clock - 9:
45 pm.

The store rests in afterhour stillness. Horus paces by the side

door, his ears pressed to the phone receiver - no answer.

He hangs up. Checks his watch. Goes to the front entrance and

peers out at the street - no Roheim.

INT. BAR - NIGHT

The bar. The smoke. The scums of humanity. Gina - over there,

marketing her cleavage to anything with a pulse and a penis.

She mingles with a BAR FLY.

Her eyes locate Hancock - entering, finding a seat.

From an adjacent stool, A MAN places his hand on Hancock's lap.

Whispers to him.

79.

MAN:

I wear dresses. How about you?

HANCOCK:

(considers; nah)

Get lost.

The warning comes across quite well - the man exits.

Gina saunters over - takes the vacancy. At the other end, the

bar fly rises. Pays. Heads pass them, for the door.

GINA:

(to bar fly)

Meet you outside. The El Camino, right?

The bar fly nods. Exits. Gina turns to Hancock. Takes his face

in her hands, studies him.

GINA (CONT'D)

Your eyes are calm. It's good.

She withdraws her hands.

HANCOCK:

What?

GINA:

But you're still here.

She rises. And as she makes for the exit...

GINA (CONT'D)

Nice haircut.

Hancock watches as the night swallows her whole. He inhales the

rest of his cigarette - pensive.

CUT TO:

INT. WATANABE'S SHOPPING EMPORIUM - NIGHT

The clock, it reads 1:05 am.

Horns, his flashlight, they're making their rounds. His routine

takes him outside - via an EXIT door.

EXT. WATANABE'S SHOPPING EMPORIUM - NIGHT

A dark alley. Dumpsters. Boxes.

Horus peruses the premises. Heads around the building and to the

street.:
.

80.

. as a ragged FIGURE collapses onto.him. It's Roheim and he's

been drinking, right?

HORUS:

Dear God.

Horus catches him.

INT. WATANABE'S - NIGHT

They find a chair in the back, Horus Positioning Roheim in the

light. The old man isn't drunk - his mouth agape, his face

bruised with wounds from a serious pummeling.

A chunk of lip dangles, bleeds.

HORUS:

Jesus.

Goes to the bathroom sink for some paper towels. Comes back to

nurse' the wounds.

ROHEIM:

Figured I can get you by the front... but

you weren't there.

HORUS:

(dabbing the torn lip)

Who... what happened?

ROHEIM:

They-jumped me. That bastard Scarpo and

his boys. They were waiting on me.

Returns to get more clean towels. And comes back.

HORUS:

Why didn't you come through the back...

standing out there in the dark?

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