Malcolm X Page #6

She looks at him.

LAURA:

She raised me, my mother died when I

was six.

Is your mother alive?

MALCOLM:

Yeah, she's alive.

INT. DRUGSTORE - EVENING

Laura is eating a banana split. Malcolm is smoking and

drinking coffee.

MALCOLM:

You know how dumb I was? I used to

think that "Not For Sale" was a brand

name.

Laura looks over. She doesn't understand.

INT. LITTLE KITCHEN - DAY

Louise's hand reaches for a small sack of flour stamped "Not

For Sale."

She brings it down on the table with a hard, controlled whap.

MISS DUNNE'S VOICE

I did knock.

Louise doesn't look up.

LOUISE:

Did you hear me say come in?

WIDEN TO SHOW Louise with a WHITE SOCIAL WORKER, MISS DUNNE

complete with pad, pencil and goodwill. Huddled out of sight,

but nonetheless visible, are five small BLACK CHILDREN.

MISS DUNNE:

There's no point in fighting about

it. I'm sorry. May I sit down?

Louise is very aware of the children and struggling for self-

possession.

LOUISE:

As you nice enough to ask, we'll git

you one.

One of the children brings over a chair. Miss Dunne sets out

her papers.

MISS DUNNE:

It's the same questions, Mrs. Little.

Since the death of your husband --

LOUISE:

Murder.

MISS DUNNE:

-- there is a serious question as to

whether --

LOUISE:

These are my children. Mine. And

they ain't no question. None.

MISS DUNNE:

I think sometimes, Mrs. Little, candor

is the only kindness.

PAN THE CHILDREN'S FACES

MISS DUNNE:

All of your children are delinquent,

Mrs. Little, and one, at least,

Malcolm is a thief.

LOUISE:

Get out.

MISS DUNNE:

(still sitting)

Your control over your children,

therefore --

LOUISE:

Did you hear me?!

MISS DUNNE:

You'll regret this, Mrs. Little.

LOUISE:

If you don't move out through that

door, you're going to be past all

regretting.

The terror-stricken children huddle together.

FREEZE FRAME. It becomes a still.

MALCOLM'S VOICE

We were parceled out, all five of

us. I went to this reform school and

lived at this woman's house. She was

in charge.

A SMALL CLEAN ROOM WITH A COT, A CHAIR AND A BUREAU.

MRS. SWERLIN

(motherly, friendly)

This is your room, Malcolm. I know

you'll keep it clean.

A DINING ROOM TABLE. FIVE WHITE BOYS AROUND IT.

MRS. SWERLIN

This is Malcolm, our new guest. We'll

treat him like a brother.

A CLASSROOM.

MALCOLM'S VOICE

I was special. The only colored kid

in class. I became a sort of mascot.

Like a pink poodle.

KIDS PLAYING IN THE SCHOOL YARD.

MALCOLM'S VOICE

I didn't know then that I was a

n*gger.

MALCOLM PLAYING BASKETBALL.

MALCOLM SPEAKING BEFORE HIS CLASS.

MALCOLM DOING HOMEWORK.

A HORSE HAVING ITS TEETH EXAMINED.

MRS. SWERLIN

He's bright.

MALCOLM'S VOICE

They talked about me like

MRS. SWERLIN

Good grades. Fine

athlete. President of

his class.

MALCOLM'S VOICE

I wasn't there. Like I was

some kind of pedigreed dog

or a horse. Like I was

invisible.

INT. OSTROWSKI'S CLASSROOM - DAY

OSTROWSKI is talking to Malcolm, it's after school, the

classroom is empty.

OSTROWSKI:

The important thing is to be

realistic. We all like you. You know

that. But you're a n*gger and a lawyer

is no realistic goal for a n*gger...

MALCOLM:

But why, Mr. Ostrowski? I get the

best grades. I'm the class president.

I want to be a lawyer.

INT. THE DRUGSTORE - P.M.

Laura and Malcolm. Neither is talking. She is simply watching

him as he sips his coffee and puffs on a cigarette.

INT. OSTROWSKI'S CLASSROOM - DAY

OSTROWSKI:

...Think about something you can be.

You're good with your hands. People

would give you work. I would myself.

Why don't you become a carpenter?

That's a good profession for a nigra.

Wasn't your pa a carpenter?

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