The Man Who Wasn't There Page #9

Doris gazes stonily out at the road. At length:

DORIS:

...I hate wops.

Ed gives her a brief glance. Doris glares at him.

DORIS:

...What's so damn strange about that?

ED:

I didn't say a word.

She looks back out at the road.

DORIS:

...*You* didn't have to grow up with

'em.

This brings nothing from Ed. Doris shakes her head.

DORIS:

...Family. Boy.

BY A BARN:

Wops in Sunday clothing greet each other around tables piled

with food.

A small child runs up to his mother, yanks on her dress and

screams:

CHILD:

He's ridin' Garibaldi! Uncle Frankie's

ridin' Garibaldi!

Surrounded by cheering children, with a jug of wine slung

over his shoulder, Frank is riding an enormous pig. He slaps

at the pig's ass with a large straw hat.

ED (V.O.)

That was when she started drinking.

Doris is standing by one of the tables, drinking red wine

from a water glass. Ed stands nearby.

A large woman hugs Doris.

WOMAN:

How you doin', Doris, you been OK?

DORIS:

How're you, Constanza?

WOMAN:

Oh, you know, I got my healt'. And

how you been, uh...

ED:

Ed.

WOMAN:

Ed. How's a business?

ED:

OK.

WOMAN:

(to Doris)

He's a barber, right? It's a good

trade. So how come you got no kids?

PICNIC TABLE:

A group of kids pulls Frank, laughing, by the hand toward a

picnic table set out with pies in a row.

VOICES:

Uncle Frankie's gotta join! Wait for

Frankie!

FRANK:

No, come on, kids--I just ate lunch!

VOICES:

No, no--Uncle Frankie's gotta join!

An old man stands by with a stopwatch.

OLD MAN:

Ready...

He clicks the timer.

OLD MAN:

...Go!

Frank and the line of children plunge their faces into the

line of blueberry pies.

The other picnickers cheer them on.

ELSEWHERE:

Ed and Doris approach the innocent-looking young couple

accepting congratulations.

Doris, holding her empty glass, is not a happy drunk:

DORIS:

'Gratulations, Gina. It's so goddamn

wonderful.

ED:

Congratulations, Gina.

DORIS:

Life is so goddamn wonderful, you

almost won't believe it.

ED:

Honey...

DORIS:

It's just a goddamn bowl of cherries,

I'm sure.

Ed tries to lead her away.

ED:

Honey...

Doris calls back over her shoulder:

DORIS:

Congratulations on your goddamn

cherries!

As Ed and Doris recede we hear her petulant:

DORIS:

...Leggo my goddamn elbow.

ELSEWHERE:

In a long shot we see Frank at the crest of a hill, staggering

slowly, painfully, toward a tree. In his right hand he

clutches a trophy.

When he reaches the tree he swings his free hand up against

it, leans forward, and vomits.

CAR:

Late afternoon, driving home.

Ed drives. Doris sits in the front passenger seat, snoring

lightly. Frank sits in the back seat hugging his trophy to

his chest, eyes closed, murmuring:

FRANK:

I never wanna see another blueberry

pie...

Silence.

FRANK:

...I never even wanna hear those

words.

Doris moans.

More silence.

FRANK:

...Don't says those words, Ed.

EXT. BUNGALOW

It is twilight. Ed's coupe is parked in the driveway. He is

just rounding the back of the car to open the passenger-side

door. He pulls Doris from the car, half asleep, half drunk.

INT. BUNGALOW

The door swings open and Ed stumbles in supporting Doris,

who has one arm draped around his neck. He helps her into

the bedroom and eases her onto the bed.

He sits on the edge of the bed and looks down at her.

Shadows from branches just outside wave across her face. She

is breathing through her open mouth; her face is moist with

perspiration.

ED (V.O.)

I'd met Doris blind on a double-date

with a loudmouthed buddy of mine who

was seeing a friend of hers from

work. We went to a movie; Doris had

a flask; we killed it. She could put

it away. At the end of the night she

said she liked it I didn't talk much.

A couple weeks later she suggested--

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