The Hustler Page #12

SARAH:

What makes you know so much? How do you know

what Eddie was thinking?

BERT:

I know. Been there myself. We've all been there,

haven't we, Miss Packard?

Eddie glances at Sarah who stares mutely at Bert.

BERT:

(takes a cigarette)

Got a match, Eddie?

Eddie reaches across to light Bert's cigarette with the lighter Sarah

gave him. Bert's own lighter is on the table, before him. Sarah sees

it, picks it up, and sparks it into flame.

SARAH:

Doesn't your lighter work, Mr. Gordon?

BERT:

(smiling politely)

Oh, I forgot all about it.

(to Eddie, who still holds the flame)

How's the hands?

EDDIE:

Fine.

BERT:

Good. I'd hate to think I was putting my

money on a cripple.

EDDIE:

(angrily)

Hey, whaddya say something like that for?

SARAH:

It's all right, Eddie. I'm sure Mr. Gordon

meant no offense. It was a figure of speech.

BERT:

That's right, Miss Packard.

SARAH:

And a fact is a fact.

BERT:

She's a smart girl, Eddie.

Bert goes back to shuffling his deck of cards.

DISSOLVE TO:

69 INT. LOUISVILLE HOTEL LOBBY - NIGHT

The lobby is thronged with gamblers and their women, sportsmen,

tourists, all there for the Derby. A jazz combo can be heard over the

din of their voices. Eddie, looking excited, leads Sarah through the

crowd. Behind them is Bert, his face now shaded by dark glasses,

following a bellhop to the main desk.

BELLHOP:

Right this way, Mr. Gordon.

He forces his way through some people to get to the desk.

BELLHOP:

Here you are, Mr. Gordon.

CONCIERGE:

Suite fifty-six.

BERT:

Look, I-I wired ahead for two suites adjoining.

CONCIERGE:

I don't recall.

BERT:

Well, I do. I want two suites.

CONCIERGE:

Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Gordon. We're filled up.

This is Derby week.

Bert displays a neatly folded wad of money in his hand.

BERT:

Look, son, you've got it all wrong. You must

have gotten my wire. Look through your

reservations, huh?

CONCIERGE:

(artfully accepts cash bribe)

I'll see what I can do ... You were right, Mr.

Gordon. I mislaid your wire. Uh, two adjoining

suites?

Eddie laughs and moves toward the open door leading to the billiard

rooms. His face glows as he watches the flow of men moving in and out

of the crowded room, and hears the sound of clicking pool balls. He

tucks his cue case under his arm and turns to Bert and Sarah who join

him.

EDDIE:

(to Bert)

You know, that's real sweet music in there.

You can almost smell the action and the money.

You know, I can feel it right down in the

bottom of my shoes.

BERT:

(laughs)

Come on, let's go...

Before they can head to their rooms, a small, neatly groomed man

approaches Eddie.

BILLY:

Eddie!

EDDIE:

(shaking his hand warmly)

Hey, Billy, how are ya?

BILLY:

Fast Eddie. I didn't know you were here.

Everybody's here. It's like a hustler's

convention. The Whetstone Kid, Johnny Jumbo.

C'mon in. The guys'll be glad to see you.

C'mon.

EDDIE:

(to Sarah)

What room are you in?

SARAH:

Fifty-seven.

EDDIE:

I'll be up later.

Sarah turns toward the elevators, with Bert behind her, jiggling his

keys.

DISSOLVE TO:

70 INT. HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

The bellboy unlocks the door and Sarah enters. The doors to the other

suite are open. As she catches sight of Bert arranging things with the

bellboy she closes one door. The bellboy leaves as she moves to close

the other.

BERT:

Oh, wait a minute, Miss Packard.

SARAH:

We're neighbors now. You can call me Sarah.

He comes to the door, holding it open.

BERT:

I want to talk to you.

SARAH:

Do we need words?

BERT:

Yeah, I think we do. We could try to cut each

other up. But that would be bad for everybody.

Bad for me, bad for you. And worst of all, be

bad for Eddie.

SARAH:

You know what's good for him?

BERT:

To win.

SARAH:

For whom and for what?

BERT:

For what makes the world go round. For money,

and for glory.

SARAH:

You didn't answer my first question. For whom?

BERT:

All right. Today for me, tomorrow for himself.

SARAH:

No, there's no tomorrow. Not with you. You own

all the tomorrows because you buy them today,

and you buy cheap.

BERT:

(nods)

Well, nobody has to sell.

He turns away.

SARAH:

You bastard.

BERT:

(turns back to her, savagely)

Listen, Miss Ladybird, you're here on a

rain check and I know it. You're hanging on by

your nails. You let that glory whistle blow

loud and clear for Eddie and you're a wreck on

a railroad track. You're a horse that finished

last. So don't make trouble, Miss Ladybird.

Live and let live. While you can.

There is a long pause as he glares at her.

BERT:

I'll make it up to you.

SARAH:

(weakly)

How?

BERT:

You tell me.

He goes back into his room. She closes the door and leans against it.

CUT TO:

71 EXT. RACETRACK - DAY

Screams are heard as the horses jerk out of the starting gate to begin

their runs.

CUT TO:

72 INT. RACETRACK BAR - DAY

Eddie cashes in a winning ticket

EDDIE:

(to the cashier)

Thanks.

Eddie moves through the ornate racetrack bar to join Sarah at a table.

Sarah has been drinking.

EDDIE:

(excited)

Where's Bert?

SARAH:

He went off someplace.

EDDIE:

Well, that old lovin' horse paid twenty-two

forty.

(counts his money)

Let's see ... two hundred I won from the jockey

last night. And today at the track ... I got

five hundred and forty bucks.

(folds it up)

Here, you hold it.

SARAH:

(takes it)

Why?

EDDIE:

Just for luck.

As she puts the money in her purse, Bert sits down.

BERT:

Hey, Findley's here.

EDDIE:

Where?

BERT:

Over there by the bar.

We see Findley, studying his program and holding a drink in his hand.

He is tall and refined, with a pale, debauched, yet oddly youthful face

that some men of forty or more sometimes have. A cork-tipped cigarette

dangles from his fingers.

EDDIE:

Aren't you gonna go over and talk to him?

BERT:

Nah. Sit tight. He'll be over here.

Findley spots Bert, takes a long drag on his cigarette, and saunters

toward them.

BERT:

(to Sarah)

Are you ready for another?

SARAH:

Thank you.

Bert points to Eddie.

EDDIE:

No, no more for me.

FINDLEY:

(joins them, speaks in a soft

Southern drawl, to Bert)

Well, hello. Haven't seen you in a long time.

BERT:

Well, hello. Haven't been here for a long time.

(makes introductions)

Ah, Miss Packard, Eddie Felson ... James ...

Bert snaps his fingers, pretending to forget Findley's name.

FINDLEY:

Findley.

EDDIE:

Glad to meet you.

FINDLEY:

And I you.

(shakes Eddie's hand)

I think I've heard about you, Mr. Felson. You

play pocket billiards, don't you?

EDDIE:

(playing along)

Now and then. Why, do you?

FINDLEY:

A little, although I'm afraid I generally lose.

BERT:

So does Eddie.

EDDIE:

Well, I win sometimes.

FINDLEY:

(smugly)

I'll bet you do, Mr. Felson. I'll just bet you

do.

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