Taxi Driver Page #9

There's plenty of movies around here.

BETSY:

No, I don't feel so good. We're

just two very different kinds of

people, that's all.

TRAVIS:

(puzzled)

Huh?

BETSY:

It's very simple. You go your way,

I'll go mine. Thanks anyway, Travis.

TRAVIS:

But... Betsy...

BETSY:

I'm getting a taxi.

She walks to the curb.

TRAVIS:

(following her)

What about the record?

BETSY:

Keep it.

TRAVIS:

Can I call you?

45.

Betsy looks for a cab.

TRAVIS:

(tender)

Please, Betsy, I bought it for you.

Betsy looks at his sad, sweet face and relents a bit.

BETSY:

All right, I'll accept the record.

Betsy accepts the record, but quickly turns and hails a taxi.

BETSY:

Taxi!

A taxi quickly pulls up.

Travis feebly protests to no one in particular:

TRAVIS:

But I got a taxi.

Betsy gives instructions to CAB DRIVER, looks briefly back

at Travis, then straight ahead. Taxi speeds off.

Travis looks around helplessly: A cluster of PEDESTRIANS on

the crowded street has stopped to watch the argument. Travis

looks back at the woman in the porno theatre box office who

has also been following the argument.

CUT TO:

INSIDE TRAVIS' APARTMENT

Travis is sitting at the table. There are some new items on

the table:
His giant econo-sized bottle of vitamins, a giant

econo-sized bottle of aspirins, a pint of apricot brandy, a

partial loaf of cheap white bread.

On the wall behind the table hang two more items: A gag sign

reading "One of These Days I'm Gonna Get Organezizied" and

an orange-and-black bumper sticker for Charles Palantine.

TRAVIS (V.O.)

May 8, 1972. My life has taken

another turn again. The days move

along with regularity...

C.U. of notebook: Travis is no longer sitting at the desk.

The pencil rests on the open notebook.

46.

LATER THAT DAY:
TRAVIS has pulled his straight-backed chair

around and is watching his small portable TV, which rests on

the upright melon crate.

A cereal bowl partially filled with milk rests in his lap.

Travis pours a couple shots of the apricot brandy into the

bowl, dips folded chunks of white bread into the mixture,

and eats them.

Travis is watching early evening NEWS PROGRAM. TV background

SOUND. Charles Palantine is being interviewed somewhere on

the campaign trail.

TRAVIS (V.O.)(CONTD)

... one day indistinguishable from

the next, a long continuous chain,

then suddenly - there is a change.

Betsy is walking down a midtown street when Travis suddenly

appears before her. He has been waiting.

Travis tries to make conversation but she doesn't listen.

She motions for him to go away and keeps on walking.

Travis, protesting, follows.

CUT TO:

INT. BUILDING - DAY

Travis speaks intensely into a wall pay phone.

TRAVIS (V.O.)

I tried to call her several times.

We hear Travis' Voice on the phone.

TRAVIS:

(smoking a cigarette)

you feeling better? You said you

didn't feel so good...

TRAVIS (V.O.)

But after the first call, she would

no longer come to the phone.

Travis holds the receiver in his hand. The other party has

hung up.

TRACKING SHOT across interior lower wall of TRAVIS' APARTMENT.

Against the stark wall there is a row of wilted and dying

floral arrangements. Each one of the four or five bouquets

is progressively more wilted than the one closer to the door.

They have been returned.

47.

TRAVIS (V.O.)

I also sent flowers with no luck. I

should not dwell on such things,

but set them behind me. The smell

of the flowers only made me sicker.

The headaches got worse I think

I've got stomach cancer. I should

not complain so. "You're only as

healthy as you feel."

A drama is acted out at PALANTINE HEADQUARTERS: Travis,

groggy and red-eyed from lack of sleep, walks into the

campaign headquarters about NOONTIME.

Betsy is standing near the rear of the office; she ducks

from sight when she sees Travis enter. Travis' path is cut

short by Tom's large-framed body. There is no live sound.

TRAVIS (V.O.)

I realize now how much she is like

the others, so cold and distant.

Many people are like that. They're

like a union.

Travis tries to push his way past Tom but Tom grabs him.

Travis says something sharply to Tom and the two scuffle.

Tom, by far the taller and stronger, quickly overcomes

Travis, wrenching his arm behind his back.

Travis kicks and protests as Tom leads him to the front door.

ON THE SIDEWALK:

Travis' efforts quickly subside when Tom motions to a nearby

POLICEMAN. Travis quiets down and walks off.

CUT TO:

EXT.

Travis is again making his way through the garish urban

night. He stops for a PASSENGER on PARK AVE. A middle-aging

professorial executive.

C.U. TRAVIS:
His face is expressionless. The MAN makes

himself comfortable in the back seat.

PROFESSIONAL PASSENGER

Jackson Heights.

Travis has no intention of driving out to Jackson Heights

and coming back with a fare.

48.

TRAVIS:

I'm off duty.

PROFESSIONAL PASSENGER

You mean you don't want to go out

to Jackson Heights?

TRAVIS:

No, I'm off duty.

PROFESSIONAL PASSENGER

Then how come your "Off Duty" light

wasn't on.

TRAVIS switches on the "Off Duty" light.

TRAVIS:

It was on.

(gesturing toward top

of taxi)

it just takes a while to warm up.

Like a TV.

TRAVIS doesn't budge. PROFESSIONAL PASSENGER curses to

himself and exits cab. Travis takes off.

POV as Travis' eyes dwell on the young HIP COUPLES coming

out of a East Side movie house.

LATER THAT NIGHT, TRAVIS pulls over for a young (midtwenties)

MAN wearing a leather sports jacket.

TRAVIS eyes his passenger in rear-view mirror.

YOUNG PASSENGER:

471 Central Park West.

EXT.

TRAVIS' taxi speeds off.

LATER, TRAVIS' taxi slows down as it approaches 400 block of

Central Park West.

Travis checks apartment numbers.

YOUNG PASSENGER:

Just pull over to the curb a moment.

TRAVIS turns the wheel.

YOUNG PASSENGER:

Yeah, that's fine. Just sit here.

49.

TRAVIS waits impassively. The motor ticks away.

After a long pause, the PASSENGER speaks:

YOUNG PASSENGER:

Cabbie, ya see that light up there

on the seventh floor, three windows

from this side of the building?

CAMERA CLOSES IN on 417 Central Park West: TRACKING UP to

the seventh floor, it moves three windows to the right.

TRAVIS (V.O.)

Yeah.

A young WOMAN wearing a slip crosses in front of the light.

YOUNG PASSENGER (O.S.)

Ya see that woman there?

TRAVIS (O.S.)

Yeah.

YOUNG PASSENGER (O.S.)

That's my wife.

(a beat)

But it ain't my apartment.

(a beat)

A n*gger lives there.

(a beat)

She left me two weeks ago. It took

me this long to find out where she

went.

(a beat)

I'm gonna kill her.

C.U. TRAVIS' face: it is devoid of expression.

YOUNG PASSENGER:

What do you think of that, cabbie?

C.U. YOUNG PASSENGER's face: it is gaunt, drained of blood,

full of fear and anger.

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