Out of Sight Page #16

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FOLEY:

Let's drive by where we're meeting and

have a look. Maybe take a look at

Ripley's place while we're at it.

Foley hangs up. He faces the mirror, starts to tie his tie.

RIPLEY (V.O.)

I guess next time I see you, you'll be

wearing a suit and tie...

INT. RIPLEY'S CELL - DAY

Foley leans in the doorway watching as Ripley, dressed in a

jogging suit, and under the watchful eye of A GUARD, gathers up

his belongings. He's going home.

FOLEY:

I still haven't made up my mind yet.

RIPLEY:

What's to think about?

FOLEY:

You goin' right back to work?

RIPLEY:

First, I'm goin' to Israel for a year,

study the Talmud, work on a Kibbutz...

then come back, maybe take some tennis

lessons.

He tears a picture off the wall...

RIPLEY (CONT'D)

Here...

(hands it to Foley)

Something to remember me by.

Foley stares at the photograph of sea life.

RIPLEY (CONT'D)

It's not the real thing, but it's still

nice to look at.

Foley looks at Ripley, who extends his hand.

RIPLEY (CONT'D)

See you on the outside, Jack.

INT. FOLEY'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY

Foley finishes tying his tie, stares into the mirror, takes in

the overall effect.

FOLEY:

(smiles)

Hi! I just broke outta jail!

His smile fades, he then sits down heavily on the bed, looks at

the picture of Karen another moment, then sets the paper aside,

grabs the Yellow Pages, flips to HOTELS, and dials the phone...

VOICE (PHONE)

Atheneum Hotel.

FOLEY:

Karen Sisco, please.

VOICE:

(pause, then)

I'm sorry, but there's no one by that

name registered.

FOLEY:

Thank you.

He dials the next number...

VOICE:

Best Western...

EXT. MAURICE "SNOOPY" MILLER'S HOUSE - DAY

Red brick, showing its age. Karen rings the doorbell and then

waits with her hands shoved into the pockets of her dark, navy

coat. The door opens to reveal Moselle in her green silk robe

holding her arms close against the cold.

KAREN:

Moselle Miller?

MOSELLE:

What do you want?

KAREN:

I'm looking for Maurice.

MOSELLE:

You find him, tell him the dog got run

over and I'm out of grocery money.

MALE VOICE:

Moselle. Who you talking to?

MOSELLE:

Lady looking for Maurice.

MALE VOICE:

What's she want?

MOSELLE:

Hasn't said.

KAREN:

That's not Maurice?

MOSELLE:

That's Kenneth, my brother. He's

talking on the phone.

MALE VOICE:

Ask what she want with him?

MOSELLE:

You ask her. Maurice's business is

none of my business.

Sounding tired or bored. She turns from the door and walks

into the living room. Karen steps inside, pushes the door

closed and steps into the foyer.

MALE VOICE:

How do I know?

Karen peers into a study, a small room with empty bookcases and

sees Kenneth in his backward red baseball cap as he talks on

the phone...

KENNETH:

The State, huh. Who's fighting?

Karen walks into the living room, where Moselle sits on the sofa

lighting a cigarette.

MOSELLE:

You like to sit down?

KAREN:

Thanks.

Karen takes a chair and looks around the room: dismal, gray

daylight in the windows, dark wood and white stucco, the

fireplace full of trash, plastic cups, wrappers, a pizza box.

KAREN (CONT'D)

I'm looking for a friend of mine I think

Maurice knows.

MOSELLE:

You not with probation, one of those?

KAREN:

No.

MOSELLE:

You a lawyer?

KAREN:

(smiles)

No, I'm not. Maybe you know him.

Glenn Michaels?

Moselle draws on her cigarette, blows out a stream of smoke.

MOSELLE:

Glenn? No, I don't know any Glenn.

KAREN:

He said he stayed here last November.

MOSELLE:

Here? In this house?

KAREN:

He said he stayed with Maurice.

MOSELLE:

Well, he ain't even here that much. I

like to know where he goes, but at the

same time I don't want to know, you

understand?

KAREN:

(beat)

Your dog was killed?

MOSELLE:

Got run over by a car.

KAREN:

What did you call it?

Moselle looks at the couch, where a MANGLED FRISBEE sits.

MOSELLE:

Was a she, name Tuffy.

KAREN:

(nods, then)

Where do you think I might find Maurice?

MOSELLE:

I don't know -- the gym, the fights.

I know he don't miss the fights. Having

some tomorrow night at the State

Theater. He use to take me.

KAREN:

The State Theater?

VOICE:

What you want with Maurice?

Karen turns, sees Kenneth standing in the arched entrance from

the foyer.

MOSELLE:

She looking for a man name of Glenn.

KENNETH:

Did I ask you? Go on out of here. Do

something with yourself.

He waits until Moselle gets up, not saying a word, walks away

from them through the dining room. Karen watches him come toward

her now in kind of an easy strut. She indicates the scar over

his eye...

KAREN:

You're a fighter?

KENNETH:

How you know that?

KAREN:

I can tell.

KENNETH:

I was...

He moves his head in what might be a feint.

KENNETH (CONT'D)

Till I got my retina detached two time.

He's standing so close to her, Karen has to look up at him.

KAREN:

What'd you fight, middleweight?

KENNETH:

Light to super-middleweight, as my

body developed. You go about what,

bantam?

KAREN:

Flyweight.

KENNETH:

You know your divisions. You like the

fights? Like the rough stuff? Yeah,

I bet you do.

(moves closer)

Like to get down and tussle a little

bit? Like me and Tuffy, before she

got run over, we use to get down on

the floor and tussle. I say to her,

"You a good dog, Tuffy, here's a treat

for you." And I give Tuffy what every

dog love best. You know what that is?

A bone.

(real close)

I can give you a bone, too, girl.

KAREN:

You're not my type.

KENNETH:

Don't matter. I let the monster out,

you gonna do what it wants.

KAREN:

Just a minute.

Her hand goes into her bag next to the chair.

KENNETH:

Bring your own rubbers with you?

Her hand comes out of the bag holding what looks like the grip

on a golf club. Kenneth grins at her...

KENNETHN (CONT'D)

What else you have in there, mace?

Have a whistle, different kinds of

female-protection sh*t?

Karen pushes out of the chair to stand with him face-to-face.

KAREN:

I have to go, Kenneth.

She gives him a friendly poke with the black vinyl baton that's

like a golf club grip.

KAREN (CONT'D)

Maybe we'll see each other again, okay?

She steps aside and brushes past him. He grabs her left wrist...

KENNETH:

We gonna tussle first.

Karen flicks the baton and sixteen inches of chrome steel shoots

out of the grip. She pulls an arm's length away from him and

chops the rigid shaft at his head, Kenneth hunching, ducking

away...

KENNETH (CONT'D)

God damn...

He lets go of her and Karen gets the room she needs, so that

when he comes at her, she whips the shaft across the side of

his head and he howls, stops dead, presses a hand over his ear.

KENNETH (CONT'D)

What's wrong with you?

KAREN:

You wanted to tussle, we tussled.

And she walks out. She sees Moselle standing there in the foyer.

Karen looks at her a moment, puts the baton in her purse and

comes out with a business card.

KAREN (CONT'D)

I wrote my hotel number on there -- in

case you run into Glenn.

Moselle slips the card into the pocket of her robe. Karen smiles

at her and walks out the door.

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