Marty Page #15

Once a candy store, now a soda fountain where booths have

been installed in the rear. One wall of the luncheonette in

front is covered with magazines from floor to ceiling. It is

a nice clean joint, brightly lit. Several CUSTOMERS are

occupying three of the four booths.

BOOTH.

They sit opposite each other in the booth. Each has a cup of

coffee. Marty is still talking, but now he is apparently

telling a story so funny that he can hardly get the words

out. The hilarity has communicated itself to Clara. Her eyes

are burning with suppressed laughter. Every now and then she

has to gasp to control the bubbly giggling inside of her.

MARTY:

...so I'm inna kneeling position,

and if you ever try shooting a BAR

inna kneeling position, you know

what I mean. I can't holda steady

position. I'm wavering back and

forth...

He has to interrupt the narrative to control a seizure of

giggles. Clara wipes her eyes and catches her breath.

MARTY:

...so the guy next to me, he's

shooting from the prone position,

and he's cross-eyed like I told you...

He can't go on. He has to stop and cover his face with one

hand.

MARTY:

So just then...

(stops to control

himself again)

...so just then I hear five shots go

off from the guy next to me...

It's too much for him. He lets out a sudden guffaw and

instantly smothers it under shaking shoulders. Clara hides

her face in her hands and giggles desperately. Some of the

other people turn to look at them.

MARTY:

So my target goes down, and a minute

later, the flag comes up. I got five

bulls-eyes. This cross-eyed guy next

to me, he shot five bulls-eyes into

my target...

He stares at the girl, spent from laughter.

MARTY:

...so I said to the sergeant who was

checking my score, "Pretty good, eh,

Sarge? Five bulls-eyes? So this

sergeant, he don't know what happened,

he says, "Say, that's all right,

Pilletti"...

He closes his eyes, shakes his head.

MARTY:

Oh, man. So that's what happened.

That's how I got the reputation-a

being the best shot inna whole

battalion... oh, man...

For a moment they seem to have controlled their laughter.

They sit, shaking their heads, studying their fingers on the

table in front of them. Then slowly, Marty begins to giggle

again. It communicates itself to Clara. In a moment they are

hiding their faces in their hands, their shoulders shivering

with laughter.

STARDUST BALLROOM.

CLOSE ON Angie. His eyes look slowly in every direction.

CAMERA PULLS BACK disclosing Angie standing on the fringe of

the dance floor, head arched high, looking at the crowded

dance floor. He starts back to the archway toward the lounge,

looking over his shoulder.

ARCHWAY.

Angie comes into the archway, throws one more glance over

his shoulder at the dance floor, then turns and enters the...

LOUNGE.

Angie walks down the length of the lounge, looking into the

booths and simultaneously at the PEOPLE moving back and forth

in the lounge. At the far end of the lounge, he turns and

comes back along the bar side, checking each face at the

bar.

ANTEROOM.

There are three young BUCKOES laying out their money for

admission. One of them calls to Angie.

BUCKO:

Anything good in there, Mac?

ANGIE:

A buncha dogs.

He crosses to the Men's Room.

MEN'S ROOM.

Angie comes into a momentarily empty room. Angie goes the

full length of the white tiled room, past the wash bowls,

the long mirror, bending to look under the doors of the

stalls. Suddenly he calls out.

ANGIE:

Hey, Marty! Hey, Marty, you in here?!

He waits for an answer...

GRAND CONCOURSE LUNCHEONETTE.

CLOSE ON Marty and Clara still in the booth, but two more

cups of coffee have been set down in front of each of them.

There are also two pie-plates. Clara has left half of her

pie. Also an empty pack of cigarettes, and another pack half-

gone. They are both smoking. Marty is still talking, but the

mood is no longer laughter. A pensive, speculative hush has

fallen over them. They have been talking for hours, and they

have reached the stage where you start tearing designs in

the paper napkins.

MARTY:

...When I got outta the army, Clara,

I was lost. I didn't know what I

wanted to do. I was twenny-five years

old, what was I gonna do, go back to

my old job, forty cents an hour. I

thought maybe I go to college under

the G.I. Biller Rights, you know?

But I wouldn't graduate till I was

twenny-eight, twenny-nine years old,

even if I made it in three years.

And my brother Freddie wanted to get

married, and I had three unmarried

sisters -- in an Italian home, that's

a terrible thing. And my kid brother

Nickie, he's a one got married last

week. So I just went to pieces. I

used to walk inna streets till three,

four o'clock inna mornings. My mother

used to be so worried about me. My

uncle Mario come over one time. He

offered me a job driving his hack

onna night shift. He got his own

cab, you know. And God forgive me

for what I'm gonna say now, but I

used to thinka doing away with myself.

I used to stand sometimes in the

subway, and God forgive me what I'm

going to say, I used to feel the

tracks sucking me down under the

wheels.

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