Jacob's Ladder Page #5

JACOB continues walking. He comes to a cross street. The

light is green. He is still singing to himself and does not

notice a BLACK CAR sharging around the corner. The car is

moving at full speed, heading straight toward him. A YOUNG

MAN walking a few steps behind yells out.

YOUNG MAN:

Look out!

JACOB turns and sees the car. He scoots out of the way but

it swerves in his direction. The YOUNG MAN calls out again.

YOUNG MAN:

Jump!

With a huge thrust, JACOB hurls himself onto the curb as the

car shoots by. Two MEN are peering at him from the back

seat. They are laughing like madmen and shaking their heads.

They do not look human. JACOB yells and waves his fist, to

no effect. After a moment he turns to thank the YOUNG MAN

whose scream had saved him, but he is gone.

INT. JACOB'S APT. - DUSK

JACOB and JEZZIE are lying in bed. They are a sensual couple

and even in quiet, reflective moments such as this, their

positioning is erotic and stimulating. Both of them are

nude. JACOB's hands are clasped behind his neck and he is

staring mournfully at the ceiling. JEZZIE is lying on her

side, her left leg draped across JACOB's pelvis. Her head is

propped up on her right arm while her left hand strokes the

bayonet scar on JACOB's stomach. Neither are talking.

Suddenly, out of the blue, JEZZIE speaks.

JEZZIE:

Maybe it's all the pressure, Jake.

The money. Things like that. Or your

wife.

JACOB:

Why do you bring her up?

JEZZIE:

'Cause she's always on your mind.

JACOB:

When was the last time I said a word?

JEZZIE:

It has nothin' to do with talkin'.

She pauses for a while, long enough to suppose that the

conversation is over. Then she continues.

JEZZIE:

(continuing)

Or maybe it's the war.

JACOB closes his eyes.

JEZZIE:

(continuing)

It's still there, Jake.

(she points to his

brain)

Even if you never say a word about

it. You can't spend two years in

Vietnam ...

JACOB:

(annoyed)

What does that have to do with

anything? Does it explain the

barricaded subway stations? Does it

explain those Godforsaken creatures?

JEZZIE:

New York is filled with creatures.

Everywhere. And lots of stations are

closed.

JACOB:

They're like demons, Jez.

JEZZIE:

Demons, Jake? Come on. They're winos

and bag ladies. Low life. That's all

they are. The streets are crawling

with 'em. Don't make em into

somethin' they're not.

(she rubs his forehead)

It's the pressure, honey. That's all

it is.

JACOB:

Those guys tried to kill me tonight.

They were aiming right at me.

JEZZIE:

Kids on a joy ride. Happens all the

time.

JACOB:

They weren't human!

JEZZIE:

Come on. What were they, Jake?

JACOB doesn't answer. He turns over on his stomach. JEZZIE

stares at his naked back and drags her fingernails down to

his buttocks. Scratch marks follow in their wake.

JEZZIE:

You still love me?

He does not respond.

INT. JACOB'S KITCHEN - DAY

JACOB and JEZZIE are sitting at the breakfast table. JEZZIE

is reading the National Enquirer and chewing at her lip.

Suddenly a drop of blood forms and falls onto the formica

table top. Staring at it for a moment, she wipes it with her

finger and then licks it with her tongue.

JACOB is nursing a cup of coffee and staring out the window

at the housing project across the way. The toaster pops.

JEZZIE jumps. She gets up, butters her toast, and returns to

her paper.

JEZZIE:

Says here the world's comin' to an

end. The battle of heaven and hell

they call it. Should be quite a show;

fireworks, H-bombs, and everything.

You believe them, Jake?

JACOB doesn't answer.

JEZZIE:

(continuing)

Me neither ... God, look at this. Two

heads. Only lived two days. A day for

each head. Could you imagine me with

two heads? We'd probably keep each

other up all night - arguing and

whatnot. You wanna see the picture?

He does not respond. JEZZIE gets up and walks over to JACOB.

Standing in front of him she slowly unties her robe and lets

it fall apart. She is naked underneath it. Sensuously she

leans forward, unbuttons his shirt, and strokes his chest.

She waits for a response from him, but there is none. He

sits silently, disinterested.

Furious, JEZZIE turns away. Grabbing the vacuum cleaner from

the broom closet she angrily unravels the cord and switches

it on. Breasts flash from beneath her gown as the vacuum

roars back and forth across the floor.

JEZZIE:

(continuing)

Goddamn you son-of-a-b*tch! My

uncle's dogs used to treat me better

than you do. At least they'd lick my

toes once in a while. At least they

showed some f***ing interest.

A NEIGHBOR bangs on the wall, shouting.

JEZZIE:

All right! All right! All right!

JACOB peers at the courtyard eighteen stories below and

watches the patterns of early morning movement. Tiny figures

drift purposefully over the concrete.

Suddenly the vasuum cleaner goes off. In the silence, JACOB

realizes that JEZZIE is crying and turns to see her curled

over the kitchen table. He walks to her side and strokes her

hair. JEZZIE begins to sob. After a moment she looks at him

with puffy eyes.

JEZZIE:

You love me?

He nods his head "yes." She smiles coyly and rubs her hair

like a kitten against his crotch. After a few moments she

speaks.

JEZZIE:

(continuing)

Della's party's tonight. Why don't we

go? It'll take your minf offa things.

And I won't make you dance. I

promise. Huh?

(he nods his head in

consent. JEZZIE hugs

him)

You still love me, Jake?

He nods his head again, only heavily, as though the question

exhausts him.

INT. BELLVUE HOSPITAL - DAY

JACOB is in the "Mental Health Clinic" at BELLVUE HOSPITAL

walking through the PSYCHIATRIC EMERGENCY ROOM. It is

overflowing with people. Some are handcuffed to their

chairs. POLICEMEN are with them. JACOB approaches the main

RECEPTION DESK. He speaks nervously.

JACOB:

I'd like to speak to Dr. Carlson,

please.

RECEPTIONIST:

Carlson? Is he new here?

JACOB:

New? He's been here for years.

She shrugs and looks at a log book.

RECEPTIONIST:

Not according to my charts. Do you

have an appointment?

JACOB:

(shaking his head)

Look, I need to see him. I know where

his room is. Just give me a pass. I

won't be long. Ten minutes.

RECEPTIONIST:

Our doctors are seen by appointment

only.

JACOB:

Damn it. I was in the veteran's out-

patient program. He knows me.

RECEPTIONIST:

(not happy)

What's your name?

JACOB:

Jacob Singer.

She walks over to a file drawer and goes through it several

times before coming back over to JACOB.

RECEPTIONIST:

I'm sorry but there's no record of a

Jacob Singer in our files.

JACOB:

Whataya mean, no record?

RECEPTIONIST:

You want me to spell it out? There's

nothing here.

JACOB:

That's ridiculous. I've been coming

here for years. Listen to me. I'm

going out of my f***ing mind here. I

need to see him.

RECEPTIONIST:

If this is an emergency we have a

staff of psychiatric social workers.

There's about an hour's wait. I'll be

glad to take your name. Why don't you

just fill out this form?

JACOB:

Goddamn it! I don't want a social

worker. Carlson knows me.

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