Meet Joe Black Page #9

Susan climbs out of the pool, gets halfway up the ladder,

points to a stack of towels.

SUSAN:

Hand me one of those, will you?

Joe turns to the towels, but one hand is occupied with the

spoonful of peanut butter, he shifts it to the other hand,

can't manage the huge Turkish towel one-handed, now implants

the spoon in his mouth, lifts the towel with both hands and

presents it to Susan.

SUSAN (cont'd)

You must have something really big

going on with my father --

JOE:

'Big'?

SUSAN:

You appear at his side out-of-the-

blue, stay at his house, eat dinner

with his family, it's practically a

first. You're in the red-hot center

of big business and I thought you

were a regular Joe.

JOE:

I am Joe.

SUSAN:

Not the one I met this morning, hit-

ting on me in as nice a way as I've

been hit on in a long time, but the

moment you find out I'm my Dad's

daughter, you act like a stranger.

JOE:

That is not my intention.

Joe continues to nibble at his peanut butter.

SUSAN:

What are your intentions? To make

little dreams in coffee shops, turn

a woman's head, and I don't mind

admitting it was turned, I liked it,

but ten hours later I feel like a

fool. I don't get it. You, my

father, here in this house, the cof-

fee shop, it's making me upset, and

I don't like being upset. Who are

you anyway? And what are you eating?

JOE:

(mumbles)

Peanut butter.

He finishes the spoonful.

JOE (cont'd)

But it's gone now.

He shifts the spoon from hand to hand, starts to stick it in

his pocket, realizes this is inappropriate. Susan holds her

hand out to him, he places the spoon in it and she sets the

spoon on the table with the towels. She watches, fascinat-

ed, as Joe licks his gums, enjoying every last bit of his

spoonful.

SUSAN:

You act like you never had peanut

butter before --

JOE:

I haven't.

SUSAN:

-- What kind of childhood did you

have?

JOE:

Do you love Drew?

SUSAN:

Come again?

JOE:

When you put your mouth to his,

Susan, it seems a frequent thing.

SUSAN:

Drew is none of your damn business.

Nor is where I put my mouth.

JOE:

I'm sorry. Do you live here?

SUSAN:

No, Joe, I'm swimming here. Then

I'm going home.

JOE:

I guess what I'm trying to say is --

I'd like us to be friends.

SUSAN:

I've got plenty of friends.

JOE:

I don't have any.

SUSAN:

I can see why.

She finishes drying herself, drops the towel on a chair, and

prepares to leave.

JOE:

...I didn't mean to offend you at

dinner. I'm not quite at home some-

times with people. I get busy doing

- uh - what I do, and I don't seem to

have developed --

He drifts off.

SUSAN:

Yes --?

JOE:

I have a certain function to per-

form, and that seems to take all

of my time. Bu sometimes - uh -

I speculate - uh - I haven't left

room for - uh - anything else.

SUSAN:

I'm sorry to say I know what you're

saying.

A moment.

JOE:

Susan?

SUSAN:

Yes?

JOE:

Did you know you have a wet spot on

your shoulder?

She glances at her shoulder, he grabs a towel, touches the

drops of water, pats them dry, hands her the towel. She

flashes a nervous smile.

SUSAN:

Goodnight, Joe.

JOE:

Goodnight to you, Susan.

Susan steps towards a door, Joe takes a step in the wrong

direction, they almost walk into each other. Now she takes

a step in another direction, as does Joe, again they almost

collide.

SUSAN:

Shall we dance?

Joe is completely puzzled, finally Susan heads for one door,

Joe for another.

SUSAN (cont'd)

Joe --

JOE:

Yes?

SUSAN:

I think you want to go to the west

wing. Through there.

Susan indicates yet another door.

JOE:

(after a moment)

Thank you.

Joe redirects himself, goes to the door. As they both are

about to exit, Joe and Susan sneak furtive looks at each

other across the pool, smile at catching each other's

glances. Joe exits. For a moment Susan's eyes remain on

the door through which he has gone. Now she grips the towel

over her shoulders, the one Joe gave her, pats the same spot

he did.

CUT TO:

INT. HALLWAY, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - NEXT MORNING

Parrish, dressed for the day, passes servants busy with

their morning tasks, polishing doorknobs, putting away

linen, dusting picture frames. He nods and greets them as

he strides down the hall, brisk "Good morning"'s to Coyle

and Luisa.

INT. GUEST SUITE, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - MORNING

Parrish knocks, waits a courteous moment, opens the door,

finds Joe in an elegant shirt and trousers trying to tie his

tie.

PARRISH:

Good morning.

JOE:

Good morning, Bill.

PARRISH:

How are you? How're you feeling?

JOE:

'Feeling'? I feel fine. How do you

feel?

PARRISH:

Um -- well, I didn't sleep too well.

This is crazy. This is the left-

field thing of all time. What do I

do? What do I tell my family?

JOE:

Oh, I wouldn't tell them anything,

Bill. You'll ruin the good start we

had last night. I felt as if I were

being treated like a person. 'Joe'

this and 'Joe' that - a nice smile

- Quince passed me the rolls -- no

'rapture' or 'passion' or any of

those mighty things you seem so

intent on imparting, but I am cer-

tain, should you - uh - say - uh -

who I am - our adventure would end

abruptly.

Parrish regards Joe, the tie is a sorry mess now, a batwing

of silk stretching across his collarbone.

JOE (cont'd)

But I did so enjoy your family.

Parrish is startled, he regards Joe carefully.

PARRISH:

What about my family? This 'adven-

ture' involved only me, right?

Silence as Joe considers the point, Parrish quickly crosses

to him, undoes the tie, and now begins tying it for him.

PARRISH (cont'd)

Tell you what, you promised that it's

going to be only me and --

JOE:

And what?

PARRISH:

And I won't tell anyone who you are.

JOE:

Sounds fair enough.

PARRISH:

It is a deal?

JOE:

A 'deal'?

PARRISH:

You give your word, I give mine --

that we'll do what we say. It's a

truth exchanged between two people.

A moment.

JOE:

Bill --

PARRISH:

Yes?

JOE:

You've got a deal.

Parrish seems relieved. He has now, with some difficulty,

completed the tying of Joe's tie, adjusts it beautifully on

Joe's collar, then spins him around in front of a mirror.

Joe, catching sight of his own appearance, rises to the

balls of his feet, quite taken.

JOE (cont'd)

This is great!

(a moment)

Now what do we do?

PARRISH:

Shake hands.

Joe immediately extends his hand toward Parrish, but

Parrish freezes on seeing the hand, stares at it, now takes

it. Joe pumps Parrish's hand vigorously, then breaks into a

broad smile.

EXT. 5TH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY - DAY

Parrish and Joe striding downtown, Joe's jacket fits per-

fectly, he blends right in and he clearly enjoys being part

of the smart Fifth Avenue crowd on the way to work. Parrish

senses Joe's pleasure, his slight preening, his eyes check-

ing out the good-looking women headed for the offices at the

top of corporate high-rises.

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