U Turn Page #8
- R
- Year:
- 1997
- 125 min
- 710 Views
SERGEI:
Da?
MR. ARKADY
Sergei, what are you, a Neanderthal? How
many times do I have to tell you? You
answer a phone "hello," not "da."
SERGEI (nods yes)
Sorry, Mr. Arkady.(into phone)"Hello?"
OPERATOR(V.O.)
I have a collect call from Bobby Cooper.
Will you accept the charges?
SERGEI:
Mr. Arkady, deadbeat Cooper's calling.
Mr. Arkady doesn't acknowledge him.
SERGEI:
He's calling collect.
At this Mr. Arkady's head springs up. He snatches the phone
from Sergei.
MR. ARKADY (overly sweet)
Bobby, what a surprise. I expected to be
seeing you, not talking to you over the
phone.
INTERCUTS TO:
BOBBY on the phone.
BOBBY:
I know, Mr. Arkadin. I know. I was on my
way to you, it's just ... what a day I've
had. I know I'm coming up with a highly
improbable story, and I know you're not
going to believe this, but this ...is...
what happened. I had the money, I swear I
had it. I was on my way to Vegas when my
car breaks down in the middle of nowhere.
Mr. Arkady cleans his nails completely disinterested in what
Bobby is saying.
MR. ARKADY
That's a shame, Bobby. A real shame.
BOBBY:
And that's not the half of it, Mr.
Arkadin...
MR. ARKADY
"Arkady"
BOBBY:
Right, Mr. Arkady. And that's not the half
of it. I got your money, and I go into this
little grocery store in this hicktown to
get something to eat and then... well, it
gets robbed!
MR. ARKADY
...And let me guess. This robber -- he
gets your money.
BOBBY:
No. Two of them. Two robbers. And they both
get nailed... get shot by the old lady.
MR. ARKADY
The old lady?
BOBBY:
With a shotgun! She kills both of 'em,
and... and the money in my bag gets all
shredded to bloody pieces. Not one bill is
left alive. I mean, what are the odds?
MR. ARKADY (beat, dry)
Pretty long, Bobby.
BOBBY:
Mr. Arkady, honest, I ad to beat it outta
there before the cops showed. So now I
don't have a cent to my name. I can't even
get my car out of the garage. I tell you,
Mister... (pause) if it weren't for bad
luck I wouldn't have nay f***in' luck at
all, you know? (beat, waits) So, I was
wondering if you could wire me a hundred
fifty-dollars so I could get my car out of
this garage, see? The bus depot here has a
Western Union thing. And of course I'll
pay it back with the rest of the money.
MR. ARKADY(V.O.)
Which you don't have.
BOBBY:
But which I can get. No problem. Look, I
can sell my car in Vegas. Blue book it's
worth 16 at least. I just need the 150,
uh...
Sergei looks like he's ready to pound heads.
MR. ARKADY (pause)
Where are you?
BOBBY (hopeful)
Uh...a little shithole in Arizona called
Superior. About 200 miles east of Phoenix.
MR. ARKADY (pausing, V.O.)
Superior, hunh?
Bobby suddenly feeling suspicious.
BOBBY(V.O.)
Yeah, if you could send it care of...
MR. ARKADY
...Now, let me get this straight. Two years
you give me problems with your f***in'
payoffs. Now you owe me thirteen-thousand
dollars, you call me - collect - then ask
me to wire you one-hundred-fifty dollars
just so you can get your car fixed.
BOBBY(V.O.)
A hundred-forty-five would probably cover it.
MR. ARKADY
A hundred and ... Now you listen to me
you deadbeat little punk: I don't care if
you got hit by a truck and run over by a
steamroller. You owe me thirteen-thousand
dollars and I want it. I don't care how
you get it, or where from, but I want it on
my desk tomorrow, or I'll show you what
real bad luck is.
Sergei snaps a pencil he's holding in his hand, which goes
flying by Arkady's head, forcing him to duck.
MR. ARKADY
Do you understand me you little f***?
BOBBY (snaps)
Oh, f*** you too!
MR. ARKADY
What'd you say to me!
BOBBY:
Sh*t I'm sorry!...you can't believe the
strain I'm under. I'm just under a lot of
strain here.
There is a sharp silence at the other end. Bobby waits.
MR. ARKADY
Bobby, you owed me that 'bread' 4 weeks
ago. Now you tell me you want another week.
That's 5 weeks, Bobby. That's also 5
fingers, cause you and I know it's a finger
a week Bobby. So you got balls. Good--now
you come here tomorrow and you talk to me
real nice and maybe I don't take the other
3 fingers you owe me, you see? Tomorrow --
and Bobby, don't make me come look for you,
okay...have nice day.
He hands the phone back to Sergei.
SERGEI (into phone)
You got that? -- have nice day (hangs up).
MR. ARKADY
The nerva that piece of sh*t! And look at
you, you Neanderthal -- don't you f***in'
break pencils, you goombah!
SOFIA:
Finger? What are you, a f*ggot? In my
country a man don't pay we cut off his
head.
Arkady motions Sergei to come close.
MR. ARKADY
Get your ass down to this Superior,
Arizona. Bring me this Bobby Cooper. I
don't think he got the lesson. This is your
last chance, Sergei.
SERGEI:
Da.
EXT. STREET - DAY
BOBBY, desperate, stares at the bandage of his wounded hand. It
throbs, holding the hand to his ear.
We hear an OPERATOR'S VOICE:
OPERATOR(V.O.)
Hello?
BOBBY:
Hello?
OPERATOR(V.O.)
Are you finished with your call?
BOBBY:
Yeah.
OPERATOR(V.O.)
Please deposit an additional seventy-five
cents.
Bobby slams the phone against the hook.
BOBBY:
Goddamn rat's ass f***! Sh*t! Damn! Damn!
Damn!
He marches from the phone booth, past an old HARDWARE STORE. The
phone falls from the hook and we hear a recorded voice:
VOICE(V.O.)
Thank you for using AT&T.
In the store window, Bobby notices a set of garden shears for
sale.
BOBBY walks a bit going nowhere in particular. Looking at his
watch thinking of Mr. Arkady, he shields himself with one hand
from the sun. At the side of an old building, in the bit of
shade it throws, he twists at the beer cap which sticks and
won't turn. Bobby tries again twisting harder -- too hard -- as
the cap jerkily twists off, cutting into his hand as it rotates.
Bobby yells in pain. At the same time the beer comes foaming
from the bottle and spills onto his sleeve. The bottle slips
from his wet fingers and crashes on the ground, emptying. He
clutches his bleeding hand, pissed.
BOBBY:
F***! F***! F***! I hate this f***in' town!
I hate it! Do you hear me?
(no answer)
Get me outta here, please. I gotta get out
of this place.
As if in answer, a JEEP drives by on the main street. GRACE
looks pretty hot up there in the driver's seat, her eyes, behind
sunglasses, flicking over him but not acknowledging him as she
keeps going.
Bobby's eyes throw back his own hostility at her, but
unfortunately she misses it, as he now notices -- across the
street -- a well-kept building with the most modern decor and
signage, reading "McKenna's Realty Co."
He thinks about it, in a quandary.
EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY
In a rented convertible, we now see SERGEI racing across the
desert. His jacket off, a man with a mission. He glances at his
watch, eager to get to this "f***ing hole in the wall" which is
somewhere on this incomprehensible American map he holds in one
hand.
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