The Man Who Wasn't There Page #4

ED:

Uh--

CREIGHTON:

Well, it's the wildest goose there

is. Risk money. Very speculative.

Except, Ed, in certain situations,

it's not, see? I thought I had a

prospect here. Well, I make the haul

up and this lousy so-and-so tells me

his situation has changed--all his

capital's gonna be tied up in

expansion plans of his own. Thank

you, mother! Pop goes another bubble!

It's only the biggest business

opportunity since Henry Ford and I

can't seem to interest a soul!

ED:

That right.

CREIGHTON:

It's called dry cleaning. You heard

me right, brother, 'dry cleaning'--

wash without water, no suds, no

tumble, no stress on the clothes.

It's all done with chemicals, friend,

and your garments end up crisp and

fresh. And here's the capper: no

shrinkage.

ED:

Huh.

CREIGHTON:

That's right! Dry cleaning--remember

the name. It's going to revolutionize

the laundry industry, and those that

get in early are gonna bear the fruit

away. All I need is $10,000 to open

my first store, then I use its cash

flow to finance another, and so on--

leap frog, bootstrap myself a whole

chain. Well, me and a partner.

Cleanliness, friend. There's money

in it. There's a future. There's

room to grow... Say, that's looking

pretty good. Let's see it with the

hairpiece on...

BATHROOM DOORWAY

It is evening. Ed leans against the bathroom doorjamb

contemplatively off, hands thrust into his pockets, a

cigarette between his lips pluming smoke.

ED (V.O.)

Dry cleaning...

The reverse show Doris soaking in the tub, reading a magazine.

ED (V.O.)

...Was I crazy to be thinking about

it? Was he a huckster, or opportunity,

the real McCoy?

Ed takes the cigarette from his mouth, exhales.

ED (V.O.)

...My first instinct was, no, no,

the whole idea was nuts. But maybe

that was the instinct that kept me

locked up in the barbershop, nose

against the exit, afraid to try

turning the knob. What if I could

get the money?

DORIS:

Honey?

ED:

Mm.

She lifts one leg and rests the heel on the rim of the tub.

DORIS:

Shave my legs, will ya?

Ed saunters over, perches on the tub and puts the cigarette

back in his mouth to free his hands. He picks up a bar of

soap and starts soaping the leg.

He sets down the soap and picks up a safety razor.

The razor takes long slow strokes along the lather, dark

bits of hair flecking the white foam.

ED (V.O.)

...It was clean. No water. Chemicals.

He shakes the razor in the tub. Shavings float away across

the soap-slicked water.

DORIS:

(absently, as she

reads)

Gimme a drag.

Ed pulls the cigarette from his mouth between two fingers,

uses the two fingers to flip it over, and holds it for Doris

as she sucks.

He brings the cigarette, now marked with lipstick, back to

his own mouth. She murmurs:

DORIS:

...Love ya, honey.

A DOOR:

We hear a voice, muffled through the door, breaking into

laughter.

A hand enters to knock.

VOICE:

Yeah, come in.

The door swings open to show Creighton in his shirtsleeves

sitting on the bed, talking on the phone. A tray of room-

service dishes sits near him.

He is bald; his hairpiece sits on the pillow next to him.

CREIGHTON:

(into the phone)

OK... yeah. I'll see you tomorrow.

He hangs up, looks quizzically at Ed.

CREIGHTON:

...Oh, I thought you were the

porter... Can I help you?

Ed stands awkwardly by the door.

ED:

...I'm, uh, Ed.

The stranger's look does not show recognition.

ED:

...Ed Crane. Remember? Today?

CREIGHTON:

Sorry, friend, I, uh, you got me at

a disadvantage.

ED:

I'm, uh, I'm--the barber.

CREIGHTON:

Jesus! The barber! I'll be a

sonofagun. Why didn't you say so?

'Course--the barber.

Ed nods, his smile faint and forced.

CREIGHTON:

...I didn't recognize you without

the smock. Did I--damn--did I leave

something at the shop?

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