St. Vincent Page #8

CHARISSE:

That thing takes pictures?

ULTRASOUND TECH:

Well. Sort of. More like images.

(motions to the monitor)

Charisse looks at the monitor.

ULTRASOUND TECH (CONT’D)

It’s pretty cool. See...there...

right...there. That’s the head.

48.

CHARISSE:

That’s a big head.

ULTRASOUND TECH:

Biggest part at this age.

Adjusts the wand.

ULTRASOUND TECH (CONT’D)

And these are her little legs.

CHARISSE:

Her?

ULTRASOUND TECH:

Oh, it’s a girl. You didn’t know?

I’m sorry, did you not want to

know?

Charisse could cry.

CHARISSE:

Na. I wanna know.

INT. OBGYN’S LOBBY - LATER

Vin and Charisse are checking out with a MEDICAL

RECEPTIONIST. Vin is digging through his wallet.

VINCENT:

What’s my deductible running?

MEDICAL RECEPTIONIST

I couldn’t verify her with your

insurance, Mr. Canatella.

Charisse butts in.

CHARISSE:

We just got married.

VINCENT:

That happened.

MEDICAL RECEPTIONIST

Really?

VINCENT:

Yep. Told my insurance. You know

how slow they are. Paperwork.

Bureaucracy. State of the medical

profession in general.

CHARISSE:

Don’t get ‘em started.

The Receptionist doesn't believe a word of this.

49.

VINCENT:

What’s that deductible run?

MEDICAL RECEPTIONIST

Twenty dollars.

Charisse puts her head on Vin’s shoulder.

CHARISSE:

Thanks, baby.

Vin forks over a twenty.

VINCENT:

(to Charisse)

You owe me, lady.

INT. ST. FRANCIS DE SALES - GYMNASIUM - CONTINUOUS

Dodge ball in progress. TWO TEAMS OF BOYS compete,

throwing the ball as hard as they can at each other.

Coach Mitchell’s on the opposite side of the gym, working

on basketball drills with the GIRLS.

Ozinski and Brooklyn are mowing down their OPPONENTS one

after another...until only Oliver remains. He’s hard to

hit, he’s so tiny.

Ozinski has the ball.

OZINSKI:

Get ready for a red ass, sh*t bag.

He runs. Throws. Oliver jumps. The ball bounces under

him and hits the wall, heading back towards Ozinski.

Oliver runs for the ball, as fast as his fawn legs will

take him. It’s like slow motion.

At the half line...the ball is feet away from crossing

back onto Ozinski’s side. Oliver dives for it.

Thud. He lands hard on the gym floor, his face smacks

the half line.

Ozinski grabs the ball. Smiles. Runs toward Oliver.

OZINSKI (CONT’D)

Say your prayers, you little p*ssy.

Ozinski winds up. Oliver stands, trying to get the hell

out of there.

Ozinski’s a few feet away. He hurls the ball at Oliver’s

mug...

50.

Thwwapppppp. Right on the kisser. This is bad.

Oliver’s glasses fly off his head. He crashes to the

floor in a heap. Both hands over his face.

Silence. You could hear a pin drop. KIDS gather around

Oliver, concerned, curious, scared. He’s not moving.

Even Ozinski looks worried. He walks over, closer to

Oliver.

A whistle blows. Coach Mitchell runs across the gym

towards the scene. He gets there, just as Oliver lifts

his head, uncovers his face. Blood everywhere.

Coach Mitchell pushes through the crowd. Ozinski backs

up. Out of nowhere...Oliver screams, a guttural kind of

attack call.

OLIVER:

You mother f***ing, ass-face, dick

bag...

He has the wildest, animalistic look in his eyes...and

he’s running directly at Ozinski.

The entire class is frozen in disbelief...what the hell

is he doing?

OLIVER (CONT’D)

A**hole, cock sucking, son-of-awhore...

With his hand in some sort of death grip-blow, he hits

Ozinski square in the nose...and up Driving his schnoz

into his brain.

Splickkkk! Ozinski’s nose explodes with blood. He falls

flat backwards, passing out along the way.

Thud. Ozinski smacks down on the gym floor. Game over.

EXT. VIN’S HOUSE - LATER

Oliver runs up to the house, bangs on the front door.

Waits. Bangs again. Waits.

Finally...Charisse opens the door, wearing one of Vin’s

old robes.

CHARISSE:

Yeah.

OLIVER:

Who are you?

CHARISSE:

Who are you?

51.

OLIVER:

I’m Oliver.

CHARISSE:

Why you gotta bang so many times?

OLIVER:

He’s hard of hearing.

Vin screams from within.

VINCENT:

Let him in.

CHARISSE:

Who you yelling at!?

Charisse opens the door wide for Oliver.

CHARISSE (CONT’D)

Always yelling at somebody.

INT. VIN’S HOUSE - THE DEN - LATER

Vin and Charisse are sitting on the couch. Oliver’s

standing in front of them, his eyeglasses are patched

together with tape.

VINCENT:

(a tinge of pride)

You broke his nose.

OLIVER:

Yes, sir. I think so. There was

blood everywhere. You should have

seen it.

VINCENT:

You must have hit it just right.

Let me see.

Oliver demonstrates: the hand position, the stance.

CHARISSE:

You taught him that?

VINCENT:

He needs to learn how to defend

himself. He’s a runt.

Charisse stands, had enough.

CHARISSE:

Where’s my cash?

VINCENT:

It’s on the dresser.

52.

CHARISSE:

Last week?

VINCENT:

It’s all there. Minus the

deductible.

Charisse walks off.

CHARISSE:

You shouldn’t be teaching nobody

nothing.

She’s gone.

OLIVER:

Who is she?

VINCENT:

A hooker.

OLIVER:

What’s that?

Vin lights a cigarette.

VINCENT:

One of the more honest ways to make

a living.

INT. SANTA ANITA RACE TRACK - DAY - LATER

Vin and Oliver are staring up at the betting board.

VINCENT:

The board tells you what the day’s

action looks like. Race number.

Who’s running, riding, so forth.

OLIVER:

What’s 20 slash 1?

VINCENT:

Odds. Some bookie outta Vegas

thinks that horse has a one in

twenty chance of winning.

OLIVER:

And what do you get if he does?

VINCENT:

Twenty times your money.

OLIVER:

That’s a good deal.

VINCENT:

Sure. If you win.

53.

THE ENCLOSURE - LATER

Vin and Oliver stand at the fence, watching HORSES and

JOCKEYS walk.

VINCENT:

(re:
a horse)

That one there with the wraps...is

a dog.

OLIVER:

Doesn’t sound like a compliment.

VINCENT:

The odds of him winning are

astronomical.

Beat.

OLIVER:

We should take him across the

board.

The kid is fast.

VINCENT:

Don’t get ahead of yourself.

TRACKSIDE - LATER

Vin’s in his “booth.” Eyes closed, holding his racing

form to his temple. Oliver’s studying his own race form.

OLIVER:

What’s a-

VINCENT:

You see what I’m doing here?

OLIVER:

Praying?

VINCENT:

Praying?

OLIVER:

That’s what it looks like.

VINCENT:

I thought we talked about talking.

Vin opens his eyes. Annoyed. Oliver could care.

OLIVER:

What’s a trifecta?

54.

VINCENT:

You pick three horses to finish 1-23,

in the order they come in. High

risk, high reward.

OLIVER:

Sounds improbable.

VINCENT:

If you’re gonna gamble, you might

as well have the chance to win big.

Oliver scans the form, thinks.

OLIVER:

Wishful Thinking. Sweeter Lady.

Champagne Flute. One, two, three.

800 to 1.

VINCENT:

How much money you got?

Oliver un-Velcros his wallet.

OLIVER:

Seven dollars.

VINCENT:

Lunch money?

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