Traveler Page #11

There's still a long way to go to freedom. But at least,

together, they won't be alone on the journey.

58.

EXT. THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE - ABUTMENT - SAME

Marlow's Crown Vic stops at the famous landmark. She gets out

and is greeted by a BOMB SQUAD LEADER. We don't hear the

conversation, but we know what's being said. No bombs.

EXT. QUEENS STREETS - SAME

Taylor and Jay reach Queens. Two POLICEMEN ON HORSEBACK

survey the enormous crowd. An impossible task. Jay and Taylor

split up to pass them, then duck down a side street.

Once they're clear of the bridge, Taylor finds a payphone. He

enters the booth and dials a collect number.

TAYLOR:

Collect call from T.F.

Jay waits outside. He can hear Taylor's muffled voice behind

him. Two KIDS on rollerblades chase each other through the

street. As Jay watches them dart in and out of the crowd we

MATCH CUT TO:

EXT. THE NEW HAVEN HOUSE - DAY - FLASHBACK

Jay dodges a kid on rollerblades as a cab pulls away behind

him. He stands in front of the white Victorian. He carries an

old Samsonite suitcase and wears the Chicago Cubs hat, which

is not nearly as worn out.

TITLE CARD:
SEPTEMBER, TWO YEARS EARLIER

INT. THE NEW HAVEN HOUSE - CONT.

Jay enters and takes in the CREAKING FLOORS and large

unfurnished rooms. Dust coats every surface. But this old

house has serious potential. A STAIR CREAKS. He looks up.

A clean-shaven Taylor comes cruising down the stairs dressed

in cords and a Yale Polo shirt.

TAYLOR:

Hey. You must be Will.

JAY:

Actually, I'm Jay.

TAYLOR:

Fifty/Fifty chance. Thought the

odds were in my favor. Taylor Fog.

The two shake hands. Taylor notices Jay's Cubs hat.

59,

TAYLOR (cont'd)

Hold on. You like the Cubbies? I

thought you were from LA?

JAY:

My dad was from Chicago.

Taylor walks to a hallway closet. He pulls out his own faded

blue hat with a red "C".

TAYLOR:

I was actually at the game when

Bartman went for the foul ball.

Cost them the series. Total

heartbreaker.

The door opens. In walks Will Traveler. Looks more like a

bookworm than the leader we saw on the road trip. He has a

roller suitcase and his video camera's on. He shuts it off

when he sees Jay and Taylor.

TAYLOR (cont'd)

And the circle is complete. You

have to be Will Traveler. I'm

Taylor Fog, School of Management.

This is—

JAY:

Jay Burchell. Law School.

WILL:

Right. I read the housing ticket.

(taking in the room)

Looks like we got a nice place.

TAYLOR:

Wait until you see upstairs. Hold

on, guys. I got something special.

Taylor disappears into the kitchen.

WILL:

So that's Taylor Fog? Wonder why

he's slumming it in grad housing.

JAY:

I'm sure he'll be happy to tell us.

ill smiles at the joke. He notices Jay's Cubs hat.

WILL:

No way. You're a Cubs fan?

60.

JAY:

We just went through this.

Taylor returns with three Heinekens.

TAYLOR:

I've been saving these.

He passes them out as Will pulls a blue Chicago Cubs hat from

his jacket.

TAYLOR (cont'd)

Hold on. You too?

Will puts his hat on and nods.

TAYLOR (cont'd)

I am loving this house already.

What are the chances that three

guys from LA, the Hamptons, and

Maine would all love the same team?

Beat.

WILL:

Must be fate.

Taylor raises his glass, oblivious.

TAYLOR:

Then I say... to fate.

ALL:

To fate.

Their bottles collide. We linger on Will. He smiles,

something dark behind his eyes. A KNOCK ON THE DOOR.

CUT TO:

EXT. QUEENS STREETS - PRESENT DAY

The POUNDING on the door is Taylor POUNDING on the phonebooth

glass. Jay snaps out of his memory.

TAYLOR:

My dad says there's a used car

joint two blocks up. They'll take

cash. You're coming, right?

Jay looks up, a raw determination in his eyes.

61.

JAY:

Can he help us track down

information on Will?

TAYLOR:

He's already looking into it.

(into phone)

All right, dad. We'll see you soon.

CUT TO:

EXT. FOG MANSION - ESTABLISHING

An old Gothic manor occupies a hill.

CARLTON FOG (O.S.)

Okay, son. Call from the road if

you have any problems.

INT. FOG MANSION - LIBRARY - SAME

Towering bookshelves. Ancient Texts. Carlton Fog hangs up the

phone behind a large oak desk. He sighs, heavy. Looks up.

CARLTON FOG:

I've done as you asked. They'll be

here tonight.

We don't see who he's talking to.

CUT TO BLACK.

END SHOW:

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