Nick of Time Page #10

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GENE looks at his watch.

ECU WATCH:

12:
32.

The minute hand clicks to 12:33 as he watches.

ANGLE ON HUEY - 12:33PM

He works away at GENE's shoes.

HUEY:

So, are you a visitor or lucky enough

to live in The City of Angels?

It's more of HUEY's patter, no real substance to the inquiry.

GENE:

I'm...I'm visiting.

GENE watches MR. SMITH frown and amble toward the shoeshine

stand.

HUEY:

What do you do, if I may be so bold?

GENE:

(looking at MR. SMITH)

I'm just an accountant.

HUEY:

Don't denigrate yourself, my friend.

Where would the government be without

accountants? They wouldn't know how

hard they can squeeze us before we

pop, isn't that right?

ANGLE ON MR. SMITH - 12:33PM

He takes note of the conversation and wanders back to his

chair.

ANGLE ON HUEY - 12:33PM

HUEY:

Now you take tips. Time was a tip

was between a man and his customer.

Not any more. They've figured out

what they call a formulae, don't

laugh, it ain't for babies. They

take your sales, see, and slap a

percentile on there, figuring that

somewhere between your lies and your

bad luck they'll hit on the mean

amount, mean meaning "in the middle",

but if you ask me it means "just

plain mean". Why you can have Uncle

Scrooge wring a nickel over your

poor out-stretched palm, or Daddy

Warbucks dropping pearl stick-pins

like manna from heaven, don't make

no difference, they'll tax your behind

according to that same figure. Doesn't

seem quite right., does it?

GENE:

No. No, it doesn't.

The Bellboy GUSTINO walks by, calls out to HUEY.

GUSTINO:

Hey, Huey, how's it hangin'?

HUEY:

It's a load, my friend, but somebody's

got to carry it.

GUSTINO laughs, waves.

GENE:

I have to do something.

HUEY:

What's that? You have to speak up.

(taps his ear)

I'm a little deaf in this ear. Between

that and my wooden leg I'm a mess.

Compliments of the United States

Army Artillery Corps.

GENE:

I said I have to do something.

HUEY:

I'll have you out of here in two

shakes o'f a lamb's tail.

GENE:

Is within himself.

GENE I keep wondering what she would do if she was here.

She'd figure it out. She'd run it down like a column of

numbers. Pro's and cons. That's the way she was: Lists all

over the house.

HUEY's manic shoe-shining slows down: who has he got in his

chair?

GENE:

Drove me crazy. There must have been

one on me. I didn't add up so she

left. That's what attracted me to

her In the first place. She made up

her mind and she did it. She wouldn't

sit around waiting for...whatever.

She'd do something. She'd do

something.

HUEY keeps his eyes on his work. He's afraid he's got a live

one.

HUEY:

Yes, well, you know, for a quality

shoe you can't beat a good wingtip.

Wears like iron. You're a wise man.

There ya' go. Two bucks.

HUEY gestures for GENE to get down. GENE steps to the floor.

He pays HUEY with a twenty.

HUEY:

You got anything smaller?

GENE:

Keep it.

HUEY:

It's a twenty.

GENE:

Keep it.

GENE is thinking about something.

HUEY:

Well...thanks muchly...

GENE looks around the lobby, at MR. SMITH, the Flower Street

entrance, the rest of the area, feeling the gun in his pocket.

GENE:

Can I get out to Flower Street from

here?

HUEY:

Sure. Go down past the bar. Take you

right out there.

HUEY nods toward the bar.

GENE:

Thanks.

GENE walks toward the bar. HUEY shakes his head: time for

the boys in white.

INT. BONAVENTURE HOTEL - LOBBY - DAY - 12:35PM

GENE looks towards the Flower Street entrance. The van is

still there. A bus pulls up.

GENE walks past MR. SMITH.

MR. SMITH

You get another chance in ten minutes.

GENE:

Then I have time for a drink.

He heads up to the bar.

MR. SMITH

All right, Mr. Watson, but make it

just one. I don't want you...

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