Life Page #8

SYLVIA:

I've never seen you in here before.

CLAUDE:

(staring at the hand)

That's because I've never been here

before.

SYLVIA:

I'm Sylvia. What's your name?

Against his better judgement, Claude's gaze follows the long,

slender arm up past a bare shoulder and settles on SYLVIA'S

angelic face. He is struck dumb.

SYLVIA:

Can't you remember your own name?

CLAUDE:

I know it begins with a "C"...

SYLVIA:

Well, Mr. "C", how about buying a

girl a drink?

(to the bartender)

Two bourbons.

CLAUDE:

I really shouldn't. I gotta keep an

eye on my friend.

SYLVIA:

He looks like he can take care of

himself.

The drinks arrive. She places a shot glass in Claude's

reluctant hand. She winks provocatively and slowly pours the

whiskey down her throat. Instinctively, Claude tosses back

his shot.

CLAUDE:

Claude. That's my name. Claude. That's

never happened before.

SYLVIA:

You're cute. You have any money,

Claude?

CLAUDE:

Ten dollars. But I need it to get

home.

SYLVIA:

Why would you want to go home? It's

so early.

The bartender refills their glasses.

BACK AT THE POKER TABLE

Winston considers his cards, hardly looking up as a WAITRESS

lays down a cocktail napkin and sets a drink down on top of

it. He glances at Ray, who casually considers his cards.

RAY:

I'll take two.

The dealer tosses Ray a couple of cards.

INSERT -- Ray fans his cards to reveal a full house.

After considering the other players at the table, Ray pushes

what's left of his money into the center of the table. The

three other PLAYERS fold with disgust. Winston squints long

and hard at Ray, then pushes everything he has into the center

of the table.

WINSTON:

I'll see that...

Winston reaches into his jacket and throws down some more

money on the pile.

WINSTON:

And while we're at it, let's sweeten

the pot.

RAY:

Looks like my sugar bowl's empty,

Mr. Hancock.

WINSTON:

(reaching for the pot)

That's just too damn bad, ain't it?

RAY:

Now, hang on, slick. I ain't through

with you yet.

Ray checks his cards again. He looks at the pot, it's a lot

of money. With this hand, there's no way he can lose. He

places his daddy's pocket watch on top of the pile. Winston

checks the time piece.

WINSTON:

That'll cover it.

Ray lays down his hand.

RAY:

Full boat, ladies doing the paddling.

WINSTON:

Four threes.

Ray sits back, stunned. Winston rakes in his winnings. The

game is over for the night. The three other players head to

the bar.

WINSTON:

Don't take it too hard, New York.

Have a round on me.

Winston tosses a silver dollar to Ray, who snatches it out

of the air. Winston drops his hat on his head and moves

through the crowd and out the door.

WAITRESS:

Can I get you something?

Ray shakes his head. Carefully, she begins to clear the table.

Suddenly, he grabs her wrist. Winston's glass tips over. Ray

flips over the cocktail napkin to reveal an extra pile of

cards.

RAY:

Looks like he had a whole lot of

nothing in his hand until you came

along.

WAITRESS:

(wrenching free)

You're hurting my arm.

EXT. JUKE JOINT -- NIGHT

Ray dashes into the street, glancing both ways. No sign of

Winston. Damn.

EXT. BACK ALLEY -- NIGHT

Winston produces Ray's pocket watch and pops it open. A smile

crosses his face as the mechanical tune plays.

A sheriff's sedan rounds a corner, illuminating Winston in

its headlights. The car pulls up and SHERIFF WARREN PIKE

steps out. Distinguished by a casual cruelness, he's a young

white man who loves his uniform.

PIKE:

If it isn't Winston Hancock.

Winston tries to move past Pike, but the sheriff blocks his

path with a night stick. As Winston backs off, another squad

car pulls up behind him. TWO DEPUTIES step from the car,

guns drawn.

PIKE:

I thought we agreed that you were

gonna leave town.

WINSTON:

I tried to leave, Sheriff Pike. But

your wife begged me to stay.

Pike slams Winston with his club, sending the black man to

his knees. As Winston struggles back to his feet, a stiletto

flashes and he lunges for the sheriff, slashing his cheek.

The deputies grab Winston from behind, holding him by both

arms. The long knife clatters to ground. Pike touches his

face, examining the blood on his fingers.

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