Jacob's Ladder Page #3

JEZZIE:

You up?

JACOB:

No. Have you seen my glasses?

JEZZIE:

(shaking her head)

Where'd you leave 'em?

JACOB:

I don't know.

JEZZIE:

Did you look around the headboard?

JACOB:

(wearily)

Jezzie, I can't see.

JEZZIE:

(she scans the shelf)

Maybe you left 'em in the bathroom.

She leaves and returns moments later with his glasses and a

large paper bag. She tosses them both onto the bed.

JACOB:

Thanks.

(he puts on his glasses

and notices the bag)

What's that?

JEZZIE:

Your kid dropped it off.

JACOB:

Who? Jed?

JEZZIE:

(stooping to pick up the

phone)

No. The little one.

JACOB:

Eli. Why can't you remember their

names?

JEZZIE:

They're weird names.

JACOB:

They're Biblical. They were prophets.

JEZZIE:

Well, personally, I never went for

church names.

JACOB:

And where do you think Jezebel comes

from?

JEZZIE:

I don't let anybody call me that.

JACOB:

(shaking his head)

You're a real heathen, you know that,

Jezzie? Jesus, how did I ever get

involved with such a ninny?

JEZZIE:

You sold your soul, remember? That's

what you told me.

JACOB:

Yeah, but for what?

JEZZIE:

A good lay.

JACOB:

And look what I got.

JEZZIE:

The best.

JACOB:

I must have been out of my head.

JEZZIE:

Jake, you are never out of your head!

JACOB:

(ignoring the criticism

and reaching for the

paper bag)

What's in here?

JEZZIE:

Pictures. Your wife was gonna toss

'em so "what's his name" brought 'em

over on his way to school.

JACOB lifts the bag and pours the photographs onto the bed.

There are hundreds of them. He examines them with growing

delight.

JACOB:

Look at these, will ya? I don't

believe it. Jesus, these are

fantastic. Look, here's my Dad ...

And here's my brother, when we were

down in Florida.

JEZZIE:

Lemme see.

JACOB:

(rummaging excitedly

through the pile)

Here. Look. This is me and Sarah when

I was still at City College.

JEZZIE:

(looking closely)

That's Sarah?

(she studies the photo)

I can see what you mean.

JACOB:

What?

JEZZIE:

Why you left.

JACOB:

What do you mean you can see?

JEZZIE:

Look at her face. A real b*tch.

JACOB:

She looked good then.

JEZZIE:

Not to me.

JACOB:

Well, you didn't marry her.

He digs through more photos. Suddenly he stops.

JEZZIE:

What's wrong?

To JEZZIE's surprise and his own, tears well up in his eyes.

For a moment JACOB is unable to speak. He just stares at one

of the photos. JEZZIE looks at the picture. It is an image

of JACOB carrying a small child on his shoulders.

JEZZIE:

Is that the one who died?

JACOB:

(nodding)

Gabe.

JEZZIE is silent. JACOB grabs a Kleenex and blows his nose.

JACOB:

(continuing)

Sorry. it just took me by surprise. I

didn't expect to see him this morning

... God, what I wouldn't ... He was

the cutest little guy. Like an angel,

you know. He had this smile ...

(choking up again)

F***, I don't even remember this

picture.

Hiding his emotions, JACOB scrambles over the bed and

reaches for a pair of pants. He pulls out his wallet and

then carefully puts the photo of GABE inside. It joins

photos of his two other boys. JEZZIE begins shoving the

remaining pictures back into the paper bag.

JACOB:

Wait. Don't.

JEZZIE:

I don't like things that make you

cry.

JACOB:

I just want to look ...

He reaches into the pile for other snapshots. We see an

array of frozen moments, happy, unfocused, obscure. Suddenly

he stops and stares at a yellowing snapshot.

JACOB:

God, this is me!

(he holds up a baby

photo)

Look. It's dated right after I was

born.

(he stares at it

intently)

What a kid. Cute, huh? So much

promise.

JEZZIE surveys the scene.

JEZZIE:

It's amazing, huh Jake? Your whole

life ... right in front of you.

(she pauses before

making her final

pronouncement)

What a mess!

INT. HALLWAY - DAY

JEZZIE carries the garbage to an INCINERATOR ROOM down the

hall. She is carrying several bags. Two of them are tossed

instantly down the chute. She hesitates with the third.

After a moment she reaches into it and pulls out a handful

of photos. They are pictures of JACOB and SARAH. With cool

deliberation she drops them down the chute. An apartment

door slams shut. Quickly she disposes of the pictures

remaining in her hand. JACOB opens the door to the tiny room

as the bag filled with the memories of his life falls to the

fire below.

JACOB:

Ready?

JEZZIE:

Just gettin' rid of the garbage.

JACOB and JEZZIE, both wearing postal uniforms, head for the

ELEVATOR. They are surprised that it has arrived promptly.

JEZZIE reaches out and playfully sticks her tongue into

JACOB's ear. He pulls her into the ELEVATOR. They disappear,

laughing, behind its closing doors.

EXT. NEW YORK CITY - DAY

JACOB is driving a mail truck through the crowded streets of

midtown Manhattan. As he drives he is humming to himself a

rendition of Al Jolson's "Sonny Boy."

JACOB stops his truck in front of a LAUNDRY on West 46th

Street. He opens the back door and pulls a stack of boxes

toward him. He lifts them with effort and slams the door

with his foot. It doesn't close. He considers giving it

another whack but the boxes are heavy. He turns instead and

waddles toward the store.

INT. LAUNDRY - DAY

A heavyset WOMAN with a dark tan is standing behind a

counter cluttered with laundry. A picture of Richard Nixon

is still stapled to the wall. She looks at JACOB.

WOMAN:

Where do you expect me to put those?

I don't have any room.

She tries clearing the counter, but it doesn't help.

WOMAN:

(continuing)

How 'bout over there?

(she points to a table)

No wait. Do me a favor. Bring 'em to

the back room.

JACOB:

They're awfully heavy.

WOMAN:

I know. That's why I'm asking.

JACOB waddles reluctantly toward the back of the store.

CHINESE LAUNDERERS are hovering over piles of clothes. Steam

from the pressing machines shoots into the air.

JACOB:

(huffing and puffing)

Where's Wong?

WOMAN:

That's what I'd like to know. If you

see him on the street somewhere, tell

him he's fired.

JACOB stoops to put the boxes on the shelf. There is a

snapping sound and he winces in pain. Massaging his back,

JACOB unfolds some papers for the WOMAN's signature.

JACOB:

How was Palm Springs?

WOMAN:

Hot. Where do I sign?

JACOB:

(pointing to the line)

You got a nice tan, though.

WOMAN:

Tan? What tan? It faded on the

airplane. I'd try to get my money

back, but who do you ask?

(she looks heavenward)

Two hundred dollars a night, for

what?

She hands JACOB the wrong sheet.

JACOB:

No. I'll take the other one.

(he takes it)

Right. Well it's good to have you

back. See you tomorrow, probably.

WOMAN:

If you're lucky.

JACOB smiles to himself as he leaves the store. He walks

carefully. His back is out.

INT. MAIL TRUCK - DAY

ANGLE ON THE MAIL TRUCK stuck in traffic. Nothing is moving.

Horns are blaring and drivers are agitated. JACOB reaches

for a newspaper lying on top of his mail bags. To his shock

one of the bags appears to move. Curious, JACOB pokes at it.

Instantly a terrifying figure pops out from beneath it and

stares at him with a frightening glare. JACOB jumps back,

stunned. It is a moment before he realizes that he is

looking at an old WINO who has been sleeping in the truck.

The man's face is covered in strange bumps.

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