The Fisher King Page #11

JACK looks to her - somewhat admiring the bravery and integrity

underneath the Brooklynese.

JACK:

I'm not seeing anyone else.

I really was attacked.

ANNE:

O.K.

HE nods. SHE struts to her desk without a second thought. That's

all she wanted to know so she immediately changes the conversation.

ANNE:

...I love you....

(JACK smiles weakly)

...You don't have to say it back...

although it wouldn't kill you.

I'll cook tonight.

CUT TO:

INT. ANNE'S APARTMENT ABOVE THE STORE - NIGHT.

If ever an apartment reflected it's inhabitant, surely this

is one. ANNE seems to have successfully transplanted 1960's

middle-class Italian to 1980's Manhattan - red and gold adorn

the sofa and curtains.

ANNE and JACK sit around a formica kitchen table in silence

after eating dinner. ANNE smokes a cigarette.

ANNE:

You sure you don't want to call

the police?

JACK:

No...I don't think I could explain.

You know what the Holy Grail is?

ANNE takes a long drag then puts it out in her leftover food.

JACK is repelled by the habit.

ANNE:

The Holy Grail? Yeah...I know that.

It was like - Jesus' juice glass.

(JACK just stares at her)

Oh, I used to be such a Catholic.

JACK:

You still believe in God?

ANNE:

Oh sure..Gotta believe in God.

(trying to be intellectual)

But I don't think God made man

in his own image. No. Cause most of

... the bullshit that happens,

is because of men. No, I think

man was made out of the

devil's image and women were created

out of God - because women

can have babies which is sorta

like creating, and which also

explains why women are attracted

to men, because, lets face it,

the devil is a helluva lot more

interesting - I slept with a few

saints and let me tell you...

BOOOORRING!!! ...And so the whole

point of life, I think, is for men and

women to get married so the

devil and God can live together

and, ya know - work it out.....

ANNE moves to him and leans in for a kiss.

.....Not that we have to get married.

JACK notices a brown spot on her chin and pulls away.

JACK:

... You have a little...uh...

something on your face...

ANNE:

Oh, I got a pimple..This stuff is supposed

to blend with my skin color...

Like it really works, ya know...

JACK moves to the bar to fix a drink. ANNE follows him and

takes the drink out of his hand. JACK knows what this means.

JACK:

I don't think I'm up to it tonight..

(ANNE massages his shoulders)

I slept in a boiler room...I...

ANNE nods but keeps massaging. As long as he wasn't with a woman,

he could have knocked over a jewelery store and she would have the

same reaction. HER massaging gets more intense - moving up his

head and contorting his face as he speaks.

JACK:

I think I'm getting sick...

(trying to be forceful)

I'm...just not in the mood!..O.K!

ANNE grabs his face with both hands and pulls him into a kiss.

SHE proceeds to climb onto his body as she utilizes a skill

she picked up in high school make-out parties. SHE is a pro. JACK,

against all his better judgement and will - despite the pimple

cream - is rendered helpless by this woman's passion...He returns

the embrace and guides her to the floor.

CUT TO:

INT. ANNE'S LIVING ROOM - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.

JACK sits in his underwear on the living room floor in front of an

open closet with a cardboard box between his legs. The box is

filled with TAPES OF JACK'S PAST RADIO SHOWS. HE begins to sort

through them...reading titles, remembering moments...then stops.

The memories hurt. HE dumps the box back into the closet and

moves to the bar as ANNE exits the bedroom. SHE stands in the

doorway.

ANNE:

Whatsa matter hon - can't sleep?

HE doesn't answer as he pours a drink. ANNE sees the radio tapes.

...Honey?

JACK:

I tell you something, Anne.

I really feel like I'm cursed.

ANNE:

Oh stop. Things will change. My Aunt Mary

always said, there's a remedy

for everything in this world

except death and having no class.

JACK:

That's just what it feels

like. A curse. I can't seem to...

I get this feeling like I'm

this magnet but I attract sh*t.

(PAUSE)

Out of all the people in this city,

why did I meet a man who's wife I killed?

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