The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter Page #6

down to the five-and-dime...

...and go to school nights.

Just for this next year.

Oh, Papa, I can't quit school.

I just can't.

Well, you won't be quitting.

You'll just be going nights.

I've seen kids do that.

Pretty soon, they don't go nights either.

Margaret, maybe there's some way...

- ... we haven't figured yet-

- Of what?

The only other way

is for me to get a job.

Mick would have to stay home

to look after you and the boys.

No, this is the only way.

But Mama, I wanna make something

of myself, Mama.

I got this feeling inside me

like I was destined for something.

We all have that feeling

when we are young.

It will pass.

Margaret, don't.

Well, I know it won't be easy.

But without a high school diploma,

what chance have I got?

The same chance I had.

You'll meet some fellow and get married.

If you're lucky, you'll love him.

You'll have kids.

That's what life is, Mick. That's all it is.

- You make it sound awful.

- No.

- It's not awful.

MRS. KELLY:
But some of it is.

And lying to her

ain't gonna change that.

Margaret.

You let me speak to her alone.

Now?

Mick, baby.

- Yes, Papa?

- Here. You look at me.

Now, if you feel you just gotta stay

in school...

...why, we'll find a way.

- How?

- Don't you worry.

You just trust your old Papa.

Okay?

Now, come on,

give me a kiss good night.

[SOBBING]

Good night, Papa.

MR. KELLY:

Promise me something, baby.

Promise you won't get to hate me

when you have to leave school.

Oh, Papa.

I couldn't hate you.

Not for anything.

Thank you, baby.

- I love you.

- And I love you, Papa.

Good night.

Good night.

Mick.

Good night.

- Good night, Mama.

- Mick, please don't blame me.

I'm not trying to be cruel.

I'm only doing the best I know how.

I gotta think

of what's best for everybody.

Papa and Bubber and Ralph,

as well as you.

I understand.

And I know I don't show it very much

but-

Well, uh-

I do love you, honey.

Good night, Mama.

[CRYING]

Hi.

Father has Willie down

to the barbershop.

I'm going down there.

You may come with me, if you like.

What I don't understand is

why my leg still hurting.

I know it ain't there anymore.

So, what makes it hurt, doc?

Well, those are

what we call phantom pains.

The nerves haven't adjusted yet

to the amputation.

Now, the pain is really up here.

It only feels like it's down in your leg.

Oh.

[CAR APPROACHES]

Portia.

PORTIA:

Mr. Singer brought you something, Willie.

Singer.

Thank you, Mr. Singer.

Real nice of you.

Thank you.

I ain't read but one of them.

- You know, doc, about them pains?

- Yes.

You think it might be because I'm here...

...and my leg is still someplace

up at the prison hospital?

Would it help any if we get it back?

Don't know for a fact. It might.

PORTIA:
Then maybe Father

would write them a nice, little letter...

...and ask them to send it here.

Father would do anything for you,

Willie.

COPELAND:

Portia, please.

Yes, sir.

Father would do anything for you now.

Now, when it's too late.

Portia, that ain't no way

to talk to the doc.

- We got to live together now.

- Oh, yes.

Just one big, happy family.

COPELAND:

You drive Willie home.

Well, what's the matter, Father?

Am I embarrassing you

in front of your friend?

Oh, you don't have to feel

he's so much better than you.

After all, ha, you're pretty white yourself.

It's not her fault.

She don't know what she's saying.

She's half out of her mind

with grief and hatred.

Grief for Willie, hatred for me.

I must show her where I stand.

I'll make a formal protest

against what was done.

But I'm afraid.

Afraid of what they'll do to me.

Now, isn't that funny?

I'll be gone in a few months

and I'm afraid of a little punishment.

But I must do it.

Can I help you?

COPELAND:
I'm Dr. Copeland.

I'd like to see Judge Bronson.

Have you got an appointment?

No, but I don't mind waiting

until he's free.

- Maybe if you told me about it.

- It's a personal matter.

- Family business.

- Well, suit yourself.

Uncle.

I'm sure I can bring that man in

without any help.

What's all this I hear about you

taking piano lessons from my sister?

Well, I wanna learn. She can teach me.

Ha, ha, you've got to be kidding.

I mean, she's the worst piano player

I've ever heard.

- Even her teacher complains.

- Ha-ha.

Well, maybe so, but, well, she can

start me off and it won't cost much.

- You mean, you're paying her?

- Mm.

Just my lunch money.

You sure must love music.

I guess.

You ever see a concert hall?

- Sure, in Atlanta.

- What's it like?

Mm. Big, boring, you know.

Yeah.

You ever seen snow?

Mm. Lots of it.

Tell me about it.

What's there to tell?

It's cold. And it's white.

- You've seen pictures of it, haven't you?

- Yeah.

That's not the same thing

as really seeing it.

Sometimes I feel like

that's what my whole life is like.

Not really being anything...

...just looking at a lot of pictures.

Scares me.

Do you ever get scared?

Sometimes.

Well, this summer sure scared me.

Where everything happened so fast.

Papa's hip not mending

and me not going back to school.

I guess I'm all grown up now.

That scares me most of all.

HARRY:

Mick.

I think- I think you're so pretty.

I never used to think so but-

But now I do.

Kiss me, Harry.

Kiss me the way married people kiss.

- Do you think we should?

- Please.

Let me have just one thing

the way I want it to be.

[KNOCKING]

Who is it?

Who is it?

Who is it?

It's Mr. Singer.

Father didn't get back yet, Mr. Singer.

I thought he was with you.

Me?

I appreciate what you're trying to do,

Mr. Singer.

But it really is none of your concern.

I said I don't wanna hear it.

I don't wanna hear nothing

you have to say about Father.

I don't wanna hear nothing.

I don't wanna read nothing either,

Mr. Singer.

Please. No.

[SINGER GRUNTING]

Portia, let him in.

PORTIA:

Mr. Singer, please.

Stop it, Mr. Singer.

Please.

I'm sorry, I-

- No. Leave me alone! Willie!

- Portia.

Portia. Singer, leave her alone!

Portia, what is it? Portia. Portia!

[SINGER GRUNTING]

You listen here.

Yeah.

We've got to understand this.

Do you?

I don't know.

[STAMMERING] I never did more

than kiss a girl before this.

Me neither.

It's all my fault.

Anyway you look at it, it's my fault.

It's a terrible sin

and you're two years younger than me.

No.

I wanted it to happen.

I wasn't any kid.

Now I wish I was.

Do you think we ought to get married

or something?

Mm. No. I don't think I'll ever get married.

Me neither.

Well, I guess we better go home

before it gets dark.

[TYPEWRITER DINGS]

MAN:
Good night.

- Good night.

COPELAND:

Excuse me, sheriff.

I'm still waiting to see Judge Bronson.

Judge went home

an hour and a half ago.

Thank you.

[MEN LAUGHING]

PORTIA:

Father!

Father!

MICK:

No, I have to-

No.

Don't!

BRADFORD:

Didn't anybody tell you?

You wait here. I'll go get Dr. Gordon.

He ought to be the one to tell you.

[GUNSHOT]

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