Taxi Driver Page #17

TRAVIS:

You tried to run away in my taxi

but your friend -- Sport -- wouldn't

let you.

IRIS:

I don't remember.

TRAVIS:

It don't matter. I'm gonna get you

outta here.

(looks toward door)

IRIS:

We better make it, or Sport'll get

mad. How do you want to make it?

TRAVIS:

(pressured)

I don't want to make it. I came

here to get you out.

IRIS:

You want to make it like this?

(goes for his fly)

TRAVIS pushes her hand away. He sits beside her on the edge

of the bed.

TRAVIS:

(taking her by the shoulders)

Can't you listen to me? Don't you

want to get out of here?

IRIS:

Why should I want to get out of

here? This is where I live.

TRAVIS:

(exasperated)

But you're the one that wanted to

get away. You're the one that came

into my cab.

IRIS:

I musta been stoned.

TRAVIS:

Do they drug you?

85.

IRIS:

(reproving)

Oh, come off it, man.

IRIS tries to unzip TRAVIS' fly. This only unnerves TRAVIS

more:
sexual contact is something he's never really

confronted.

TRAVIS:

Listen...

IRIS:

Don't you want to make it?

(a beat)

Can't you make it?

IRIS works on TRAVIS' crotch OFF CAMERA. He bats her hand

away.

TRAVIS:

(distraught)

I want to help you.

TRAVIS is getting increasingly panicked, but IRIS only

thinks this is part of his particular thing and tries to

overcome it.

IRIS:

(catching on)

You can't make it, can you?

(a beat)

I can help you.

IRIS lowers her head to go down on TRAVIS. TRAVIS, seeing

this, jumps up in panic.

TRAVIS stands several feet from IRIS. His fly is still

open, and the white of his underwear shows through his jeans.

He is starting to come apart.

TRAVIS:

F*** it! F*** it! F*** it! F***

it! F*** it! F*** it! F*** it!

IRIS:

(confused)

You can do it in my mouth.

TRAVIS:

Don't you understand anything?

IRIS says nothing. After a moment, TRAVIS again sits on the

bed beside IRIS. She no longer tries to make him.

86.

There is a moment of silence. IRIS puts her arm around his

shoulder.

IRIS:

You don't have to make it, mister.

TRAVIS rests a moment, collecting himself. Finally, he says:

TRAVIS:

(slowly)

Do you understand why I came here?

IRIS:

I think so. I tried to get into

your cab one night, and now you

want to come and take me away.

TRAVIS:

Don't you want to go?

IRIS:

I can leave anytime I want.

TRAVIS:

But that one night?

IRIS:

I was stoned. That's why they

stopped me. When I'm not stoned, I

got no place else to go. They just

protect me from myself.

There is a pause. TRAVIS smiles and shrugs apologetically.

TRAVIS looks at Iris' cigarette. It's burning down to the

butt.

TRAVIS:

Well, I tried.

IRIS:

(compassionate)

I understand, mister. It means

something, really.

TRAVIS:

(getting up)

Can I see you again?

IRIS:

That's not hard to do.

TRAVIS:

No, I mean really. This is nothing

for a person to do.

87.

IRIS:

Sure. All right. We'll have

breakfast. I get up about one

o'clock. Tomorrow.

TRAVIS:

(thinking)

Well tomorrow noon there's a... I

got a...

IRIS is interfering with TRAVIS' assassination schedule.

IRIS:

Well, you want to or not?

TRAVIS:

(deciding)

O.K. It's a date. I'll see you

here, then.

TRAVIS turns; IRIS smiles.

TOM:

Oh, Iris?

IRIS:

Yes?

TOM:

My name's Travis.

IRIS:

Thank you, Travis.

TRAVIS:

So long, Iris.

(a beat)

Sweet Iris.

(smiles)

TRAVIS exits.

TRAVIS closes the door to No. 2 and stands in the corridor

for a moment.

The OLD MAN slowly walks from the dark end of the hallway

with TRAVIS' .38 in his hand. OLD MAN stands near TRAVIS,

and checks his watch.

OLD MAN:

(holding gun)

I think this is yours, cowboy.

88.

TRAVIS reaches in his jacket pocket and pulls out the

familiar crumpled $20 bill. He makes a big show of stuffing

the wrinkled bill into the OLD MAN's hand. The OLD MAN

doesn't understand the significance of it.

TRAVIS:

(restrained anger)

Here's the twenty bucks, old man.

You better damn well spend it right.

TRAVIS turns and walks away.

OLD MAN says as TRAVIS walks down stairs:

OLD MAN:

Come back anytime you want, cowboy.

But without the rod -- please.

TRAVIS does not respond.

CUT TO:

INT. ST. REGIS SUITE NOON

Palantine, Tom and Palantine's Assistant are seated in

garishly decorated suite.

ASSISTANT:

Well, at least it wasn't chicken.

PALANTINE:

It wasn't? I thought it was. It

tasted like chicken.

TOM:

C'mon, Senator. That was a class

dinner. The St. Regis is a class

joint. That was veal.

PALANTINE:

Was it? It sure tasted like

chicken to me.

(a beat)

Lately, everything tastes like

chicken to me.

ASSISTANT:

Everything? Got to watch your gut.

PALANTINE:

What about it? I took 20 off

before we started this thing.

89.

ASSISTANT:

And you've put ten of it back on.

PALANTINE:

Ten? I don't think so. You really

think so? Ten?

TOM:

Those TV cameras do. I caught the

rally on CBS. You looked a little

paunchy.

PALANTINE:

I don't think I gained ten pounds.

Palantine gets up and walks over to the window. Its bars

form a cross-sight on his head. He thinks to himself:

PALANTINE:

(weary)

Jesus Christ.

He looks at the crowded traffic on Fifth Avenue eighteen

floors below. It is a mass of yellow.

CUT TO:

EXT. FIFTH AVE NOON

Travis' cab pulls away from the yellow mass and heads

downtown.

CUT TO:

EXT. DOWNTONE COFFEE SHOP NOON

Travis' cab is parked near a neighborhood Bickford's.

CUT TO:

TRAVIS and IRIS are having late breakfast at a middle-class

EAST SIDE COFFEE SHOP. It is about 1:30 P.M.

IRIS is dressed more sensibly, wearing jeans and a maroon

sweater. Her face is freshly washed and her hair combed out.

Seen this way, IRIS looks no different than any young girl

in the big city. OTHER PATRONS of the coffee shop most

likely assume she is having lunch with her big brother.

They are both having an All-American breakfast: ham and

eggs, large glasses of orange juice, coffee.

90.

Outside here environment, Iris seems the more pathetic. She

seems unsure, schizy, unable to hold a subject for more than

thirty seconds. Her gestures are too broad, her voice too

mannered. We sympathize with Travis' paternal respect.

This girl is in trouble.

IRIS:

... and after that Sport and I just

started hanging out...

TRAVIS:

Where is home?

Iris removes her large blue-tinted sunglasses and fishes

through her bag for another pair.

IRIS:

I got so many sunglasses. I

couldn't live without my shades,

man. I must have twelve pair of

shades.

She finds a pink-tinted pair and puts them on.

TRAVIS:

Where?

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