On the Waterfront Page #3

JOHNNY:

We'll ask ten G.

(looks around)

Where's Morgan? Where's that big banker of mine?

As Johnny talks he holds on to Terry, and fondles him casually. MORGAN,

a big-eared, large-nosed little weasel of a man, pokes his head in the

door as if he were waiting just outside.

MORGAN:

Right here, boss.

JOHNNY:

(mockingly — Morgan is sort of court jester)

Well, J.P., how's business?

J.P.

Havin' trouble with Kelly again, boss. He

Won't take no loans and Big Mac puts him to

work anyway.

BIG MAC:

(shouting at J.P.)

He's my wife's nephew.

J.P.

(right back at Big Mac)

But he don't take no loans.

BIG MAC:

I got to give him work. She'd murda me... .

J.P.

(shakes his head)

That's why I stay single.

(turns to Johnny)

Here's the interest on the day, boss.

Five thirty two.

JOHNNY:

(taking it from him and handing it to Sonny)

Count it.

Now Sonny and Charley are both counting. SKINS, another runner for the

mob, a nervous, pasty-faced man, enters.

JOHNNY:

(continued)

Hey, Skins—

(as Skins approaches Johnny lowers his voice)

--get away with that sheet metal all right?

SKINS:

Easy, that new checker faked the receipt.

Here it is, boss.

(offers receipt)

JOHNNY:

Stow the receipt. I'll take the cash.

SKINS:

(producing another roll of bills)

Forty-five bills.

JOHNNY:

(to Terry, sulking at the bar)

Hey, Terry, front and center.

Terry comes over reluctantly and Johnny hands him the bills.

JOHNNY:

(continued)

Count this.

TERRY:

Aw, you know I don't like to count, Johnny.

JOHNNY:

It's good for you. Develops your mind.

SKINS:

What mind?

He starts to laugh but Johnny stops him with a look.

JOHNNY:

Shut up. I like the kid.

(tweaks Terry's cheek fondly)

Remember the night he took Farella

at St. Nick's, Charley. We won a bundle.

Real tough. A big try.

TERRY:

(stops counting and taps his nose proudly)

Not a dent.

(tweaks his nose)

Perfect

JOHNNY:

(laughs, rubs Terry's head)

My favorite little cousin.

TERRY:

(disconcerted as he tries to count)

Thirty-six— sev— aah I lost the count.

JOHNNY:

(tolerantly)

OK— skip it, Einstein. How come you never got

no education like the rest of us?

BIG MAC:

(good-naturedly)

Only arithmetic he got was hearing the referee count up to

ten.

TERRY:

(hot-tempered, starting to attack Big Mac)

Now listen, Mac—

Johnny laughs and pulls Terry back.

JOHNNY:

(amused)

What gives with our boy tonight, Charley?

He ain't himself.

CHARLEY:

(as if Terry were not there)

The Joey Doyle thing. You know how he is.

Things like that— he exaggerates them.

Too much Marquis of Queensbury. It softens 'em up.

JOHNNY:

(taking the money from Sonny, Skins and J.P. and

dealing out some bills to each of them as if the money

werecards,

while Charley goes on counting)

Listen kid, I'm a soft tough too. Ask any rummy on the

dock

if I'm not good for a fin any time they put the arm on me.

(then more harshly)

But my old lady raised us ten kids on a stinkin'

watchman's pension. When I was sixteen I had

to beg for work in the hold. I didn't work my way up

out of there for nuthin'.

TERRY:

(sorry to have aroused Johnny— who speaks loud and

with frightening force when stung)

I know, Johnny, I know... .

JOHNNY:

Takin' over this local, you know it took a little doin'.

Some pretty tough fellas were in the way.

They left me this—

(suddenly holds up chin to show a long ugly scar on

neck)

—to remember them by.

CHARLEY:

(admiringly)

When he got up and chased them they thought

it was a dead man coming after them.

JOHNNY:

(to Terry)

I know what's eatin' you, kid. But I got two thousand

dues-payin' members in my local— that's seventy-two

thousand a year legitimate and when each one of 'em

puts in a couple of bucks a day to make sure they work

steady— well, you figure it out. And that's just for

openers.

We got the fattest piers in the fattest harbor in the

world.

Everything that moves in and out— we take our cut.

CHARLEY:

Why shouldn't we? If we c'n get it we're entitled to it.

JOHNNY:

(nods)

We ain't robbin' pennies from beggars. We cuttin'

ourselves in for five-six million a year just on our

half a dozen piers— a drop in the bucket compared

to the traffic in the harbor. But a mighty sweet little

drop,

eh, Charley?

CHARLEY:

(wisely)

It'll do.

JOHNNY:

So look, kid, you don't think we c'n afford to be boxed out

of a deal like this— a deal I sweated and bled for—

on account of one lousy little cheese-eater, that Doyle

bum,

who thought he c'd go squealin' to the Crime Commission?

Do you?—

Terry is uncomfortably silent. Johnny raises his voice.

JOHNNY:

—Do you?

TERRY:

Well, no, Johnny, I just thought I should've been told if—

CHARLEY:

(handing back the money)

I make it twentysix twenty-three. You're fifty short,

Skins.

JOHNNY:

(turning darkly on Skins)

Gimme.

SKINS:

(frightened)

I— I musta counted wrong, boss, I—

JOHNNY:

Gimme.

He reaches over and takes money out of Skins's pockets, stripping him.

JOHNNY:

(continued)

You come from Green Point? Go back to Green Point.

You don't work here no more.

(impulsively he hands the bill to Terry— smiling)

Here, kid, here's half a bill. Go get your load on.

TERRY:

(still troubled)

Naw, thanks, Johnny, I don't want it, I—

JOHNNY:

(roughly)

Go on— a little present from

your Uncle Johnny.

(He pushes the bill into the breast pocket of Terry's

jacket, then

turns to Big Mac)

And Mac, tomorra mornin' when you shape the men put

Terry in the loft. Number one. Every day.

(to Terry)

Nice easy work. Check in and goof off on the coffee

bags. O.K.?

TERRY:

(frowning)

Thanks, Johnny... .

CHARLEY:

(a kind of warning)

You got a real friend here, kid. Don't forget it.

JOHNNY:

(smiling)

Why should he forget it?

As Terry turns away, toward the bar,

DISSOLVE:

EXT—TENEMENT ROOF—DAYBREAK

Terry, darkly troubled, is watching the pigeons he has just fed when

JIMMY CONNERS,

a freckle-faced fourteen-year-old boy, approaches along the same

stretch of roof seen in the mugging of Joey.

JIMMY:

Hi!

Terry turns around startled, as Jimmy comes climbing up out of the

trough where Joey was trapped.

JIMMY:

—I was gonna feed 'em, Terry.

TERRY:

's all right, kid. I took care of 'em myself

this morning.

JIMMY:

Boy, you must've been up early.

TERRY:

(as if he hardly slept)

Yeah, yeah, I was awake anyway so I figured—

(gesturestoward feeding pigeons; then with

admiration)

They got it made. Eat all they want— fly around like crazy—

sleep side by side— and raise gobs of squabs.

O.S. or in B.G. a ship coming into port sounds its whistle, bringing

him back to reality.

TERRY:

I better get over there.

(O.S. sound of ship whistle again. Terry answers the

ship irritably)

O.K., O.K., I'm coming.

(starts off)

Don't spill no water on the floor now. I

Don't want them birds to catch cold.

Jimmy signals the Golden Warrior salute— the first two fingers raised

together. Terry answers with the same salute as he goes o ff,

disturbed.

DISSOLVE:

EXT—LONG SHOT—PIER—DAY

Some three hundred men are standing around, men of all sizes and ages,

some in dungarees, some in baggy denims, wearing battered windbreakers

or service discards, and either caps or woolen pullovers. A sprinkling

of Negroes. A ship is berthing in the B.G. The mood is somber and

restless.

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