The Fisher King Page #10

JACK:

No...Is he supposed to live there?

FRANK:

Yeah well...I let him stay. I didn't

know what else to do - ya know, after

what happened?

JACK:

What happened?

FRANK:

(dying to tell)

Oh, such a tragedy. His wife was

at some bar with some friends, ya

know, after work - and some nut

came in with a shot-gun and blew

the place apart. You must have heard

about...the guy who listened to the radio.

JACK goes numb. HE can't believe what he's hearing.

...Anyway, his real name is Henry Sawyer

Used to be a teacher at Columbia.

Such a tragedy. People stink, I

swear to Christ.

HE spits. JACK almost loses his stomach.

FRANK:

(talks a mile a minute)

...He went nuts. I mean, who wouldn't.

She was a beautiful girl. They kept

him at this place for the mentally

upset in Staten Island. He didn't

speak-not a word. Then, all of a

sudden, he starts talkin - only

now, he's this Parry guy. He used to live here

with his wife, so when he got released

they sent him here. I felt bad.

He couldn't work. So I let him stay

downstairs. He helps out, I give

him a couple of dollars. People

throw things away, he keeps them.

(suddenly, toward basement)

BUT HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE VISITORS!

JACK:

(leans against wall)

My God.

FRANK:

You all right?..

(JACK nods)

Listen, don't mention any of this

to him though. He doesn't remember

about being married and all, and

if you talk about it, he gets

kinda confused.

JACK:

Sure...

(sits on step)

Can I just sit here a minute?

FRANK:

Sure. You look kinda lime colored.

WIFE (OC)

FRRRAAANNK!

FRANK turns and yells back at his wife as he enters the apartment-

FRANK:

YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME COMMIT MURDER,

I SWEAR TO CHRIST!

HE slams the door. JACK sits alone, trying to put all this

information in perspective.

CUT TO:

INT. ANNE'S OFFICE - DAY.

ANNE sits at a desk surrounded by shelves of porno tapes. Upon

the desk, piles of various films, orders, reciepts, etc...

JACK sits before her.

ANNE:

Listen. I understand open relationships.

Please. I was a teenager in the sixties,

after all. But when you care about

somebody, you need more than an open relationship.

Ya need a phone call...Ya need to pick

up the phone and tell me you're not

dead...that you haven't been attacked

or raped or who knows...I sat upstairs

all night worried sick. Look at you!

JACK:

I'm sorry.

ANNE:

I can't tell you how distraught I was.

What happened? Where were you?

JACK:

I was attacked.

ANNE is about to respond when the buzzer on her phone rings.

ANNE:

WHAT?

EMPLOYEE (OC)

Guy here wants to check out the pornos.

ANNE:

SO, send him back!

A moment later, a meek fifty-ish BUSINESS MAN enters, smiling

sheepishly. ANNE indicates the walls. HE nods and proceeds to

make a selection, trying not to feel awkward or in the

spotlight. ANNE turns back to JACK. SHE sniffs the air.

ANNE:

I smell gas! What do you mean you

were attacked last night?

JACK:

These..kids tried to...set me on fire.

ANNE:

OH MY GOD!...What did they do? Are you O.K.?

SHE crosses to JACK and puts her arms around him. The BUSINESSMAN,

having overheard, pauses to watch. Embarrassed, JACK indicates to

ANNE that he feels awkward being hugged in front of this man. ANNE

confronts the BUSINESSMAN abruptly, with as little tact as possible.

ANNE:

Are you almost done, or what?

MAN:

(flustered)

Well...

ANNE:

I mean, whatta looking for - a story!?

(makes a selection)

Here...CREAMER VERSUS CREAMER..It won

an award.

JACK hides his face so as not to laugh.

BUSINESSMAN:

(mortified)

Thank you..that'll be fine...

THE BUSINESSMAN exits. ANNE sits on her desk in front of JACK.

ANNE:

Uch...These people....

So, you were attacked. My God.

But you're all right...

(now to more important matters)

So where did you sleep last night?

JACK:

I...I stayed at a friends. Listen, I-

ANNE:

(puts up her hand)

Please...before you go on...

let me tawk...o.k...We've had a

wonderful time together...

even though there's a

year age difference, the wrong way..

When we first met, you said

this wasn't serious and I shouldn't

get serious and then you moved in

and we haven't been serious. And

I just wanna say that I

have no regrets. None. And don't

wanna have any now so I want

ya to be up front with me..

I want the truth. If your seein

somebody else, let me know...

You don't have to pour gasoline

on yourself and light a match

just to stop seeing me.

I'll say God bless and we'll

part ways...just tell me the truth.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote