On the Waterfront Page #15

GLOVER:

(expectantly)

Yeah?

Terry is silent.

GLOVER:

(rises)

Well, I better get going. Hit those

stairs again.

(turns casually)

Was that a looping right or an uppercut the

first time you caught him?

TERRY:

(insulted)

Looping right! I never swung wild. I was strictly

a short puncher— hooks— over 'n under—

(pantomimes, with violent short breath-releases)

— whop-whop!

GLOVER:

Really?

TERRY:

Yeah, really!

As Glover reaches the door, Terry keeps following him.

TERRY:

Where you going? I'll walk along with you.

GLOVER:

(grins warmly)

Sure... .

Terry follows Glover out, continuing to pantomime punches. Jimmy looks

after them and frowns.

QUICK DISSOLVE:

INT—FRIENDLY BAR—NIGHT

Back room. It is set up as an informal kangaroo court . Jocko is

pointing at Charley Malloy, who is

on the hot seat. Johnny Friendly is the judge, flanked by Big Mac,

Truck, Sonny, Barney, Specs, J.P. Morgan and others.

J.P.

I didn't hear them, boss, but I sure seen them,

walking along and smiling like a pair of lovers.

Charley looks uncomfortable. He hasn't finished his drink.

JOHNNY:

(watching him carefully)

Drink up, Charley. We're ahead of you.

CHARLEY:

(disturbed)

I'm not thirsty.

JOHNNY:

(drinking)

After what we been hearing about your brother,

I thought your throat'd be kind of dry.

CHARLEY:

So they're walking along and smiling.

That doesn't mean he's going to talk. There's no

evidence until he gives public testimony.

JOHNNY:

Thanks for the legal advice, Charley.

That's what we always kept you around for.

(smiles wisely)

Now how do we keep him from giving this

testimony? Isn't that the— er— as you put it—

main order of business?

CHARLEY:

(nervously)

He was always a good kid. You know that.

BIG MAC:

He'sa bum. After all the days I give

him in the loft— he got no gratitude.

JOHNNY:

(offended)

Please, Mac, I'm conducting this—

(nodding to Charley)

—investigation.

CHARLEY:

This girl and the Father got their hooks

in him so deep he doesn't know which end is up

anymore.

JOHNNY:

I ain't interested in his mental condition.

All I want to know is, is he D 'n D or is he a

canary?

CHARLEY:

I wish I knew.

JOHNNY:

So do I, Charley. For your sake.

CHARLEY:

What do you want me to do, Johnny?

JOHNNY:

Very simple. Just bring him to... that

place we been using. Mac, you take care of the

details. Call Gerry G. in if you think you need

him.

CHARLEY:

Gerry G!! You don't want to do that,

Johnny! Sure the boy's outa line, but he's just a

confused kid.

JOHNNY:

Confused kid? First he crosses me in

public and gets away with it and then the next

joker, and pretty soon I'm just another fellow

down here.

CHARLEY:

(horrified)

Johnny, I can't do that. I can't do that, Johnny.

JOHNNY:

(coldly)

Then don't.

CHARLEY:

But my own kid bro—

JOHNNY:

(cutting in)

This is for you to figure out. You can have it your

way or you can have it his way.

(gestures with his palms up and his palms down)

But you can't have it both ways.

(turns to Sonny)

Am I right, Sonny?

SONNY:

Definitely!

JOHNNY:

(thumbing Charley to his feet)

Okay, on your horse, you deep thinker.

Charley rises reluctantly, his confident, springy manner now gone.

DISSOLVE:

INT—TAXICAB—EVENING—(N.Y.B.G.)

Charley and Terry have just entered the cab.

TERRY:

Gee, Charley, I'm sure glad you stopped

by for me. I needed to talk to you. What's it they

say about blood, it's—

(falters)

CHARLEY:

(looking away coldly)

Thicker than water.

DRIVER:

(gravel voice, without turning around)

Where to?

CHARLEY:

Four thirty-seven River Street.

TERRY:

River Street? I thought we was going to

the Garden.

CHARLEY:

I've got to cover a bet there on the way

over. Anyway, it gives us a chance to talk.

TERRY:

(good-naturedly)

Nothing ever stops you from talking, Charley.

CHARLEY:

The grapevine says you picked up a subpoena.

TERRY:

(Noncommittal, Sullen.)

That's right... .

CHARLEY:

(watching for his reaction)

Of course, the boys know you too well to mark

you down for a cheese-eater.

TERRY:

Mm—hmm.

CHARLEY:

You know, the boys are getting rather

interested in your future.

TERRY:

Mm—hmmm.

CHARLEY:

They feel you've been sort of left out of

things, Terry. They think it's time you had a few

little things going for you on the docks.

TERRY:

A steady job and a few bucks extra, that's

all I wanted.

CHARLEY:

Sure, that's all right when you're a kid,

but you'll be pushing thirty pretty soon, slugger.

It's time you got some ambition.

TERRY:

I always figured I'd live longer without it.

CHARLEY:

Maybe.

Terry looks at him.

CHARLEY:

There's a slot for a boss loader on the

new pier we're opening up.

TERRY:

(interested)

Boss loader!

CHARLEY:

Ten cents a hundred pounds on everything

that moves in and out. And you don't have

to lift a finger. It'll be three-four hundred a week

just for openers.

TERRY:

And for all that dough I don't do nothin'?

CHARLEY:

Absolutely nothing. You do nothing and you

say nothing. You understand, don't you, kid?

TERRY:

(struggling with an unfamiliar problem of conscience

and loyalties)

Yeah— yeah— I guess I do— but there's

a lot more to this whole thing than I thought,

Charley.

CHARLEY:

You don't mean you're thinking of testifying

against—

(turns a thumb in toward himself)

TERRY:

I don't know— I don't know! I tell you I

ain't made up my mind yet. That's what I wanted

to talk to you about.

CHARLEY:

(patiently, as to a stubborn child)

Listen, Terry, these piers we handle through

the locals— you know what they're worth to us?

TERRY:

I know. I know.

CHARLEY:

Well, then, you know Cousin Johnny

isn't going to jeopardize a setup like that for one

rubber-lipped—

TERRY:

(simultaneous)

Don't say that!

CHARLEY:

(continuing)

—ex-tanker who's walking on his heels— ?

TERRY:

Don't say that!

CHARLEY:

What the hell!!!

TERRY:

I could have been better!

CHARLEY:

The point is— there isn't much time, kid.

There is a painful pause, as they appraise each other.

TERRY:

(desperately)

I tell you, Charley, I haven't made up my mind!

CHARLEY:

Make up your mind, kid, I beg you, before we get

to four thirty-seven River... .

TERRY:

(stunned)

Four thirty-seven— that isn't where Gerry G...?

Charley nods solemnly. Terry grows more agitated.

TERRY:

Charley... you wouldn't take me to Gerry G... .?

Charley continues looking at him. He does not deny it. They stare at

each other for a moment. Then suddenly Terry starts out of the cab.

Charley pulls a pistol. Terry is motionless, now, looking

at Charley.

CHARLEY:

Take the boss loading, kid. For God's

sake. I don't want to hurt you.

TERRY:

(hushed, gently guiding the gun down toward

Charley's lap)

Charley... . Charley... . Wow... .

CHARLEY:

(genuinely)

I wish I didn't have to do this, Terry.

Terry eyes him, beaten. Charley leans back and looks at Terry

strangely. Terry raises his hands above his head, somewhat in the

manner of a prizefighter mitting the crowd. The image nicks Charley's

memory.

TERRY:

(an accusing sigh)

Wow... .

CHARLEY:

(gently)

What do you weigh these days, slugger?

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