Wild At Heart Page #7

SAILOR:

You guess? My parole was broke two

hundred miles back when we burnt

Portagee County.

LULA:

What’ll it be like in California,

Sailor, do you think? I hear it

don’t rain much there.

SAILOR:

You got about six more big states

to go before we find out.

LULA:

We got through two states already.

Lula lights up a cigarette.

SAILOR:

That don’t smell like a More.

LULA:

It ain’t. It’s part of the lessons

of life. I picked me up a pack of

Vantages before we left the Cape?

SAILOR:

They sure do stink.

LULA:

Yeah, I guess, but - and here’s the

lesson part - they ain’t supposed

to be so bad for you.

SAILOR:

You ain’t gonna begin worryin’ about

what’s bad for you at this hour, are

you, sugar? I mean, here you are

crossin’ state lines with a A-

Number One certified murderer.

LULA:

Manslaughterer, honey, not murderer.

Don’t exaggerate.

SAILOR:

Okay, manslaughterer who’s broke his

parole and got in mind nothin’ but

immoral purposes far’s you’re

concerned.

LULA:

Thank the Lord. Well, you ain’t let

me down yet, Sailor. That’s more’n

I can say for the rest of the world?

Sailor laughs and shoots the T-Bird up to seventy.

SAILOR:

You please me, too, peanut.

CUT TO:

65. INT. JOHNNIE FARRAGUT’S ’69 MAROON BUICK - DAY

Johnnie Farragut drives down a Southern highway on his mission.

DISSOLVE TO:

66. INT. THUNDERBIRD - DAY

SAILOR:

Life is a b*tch and then you marry one.

LULA:

What kinda trash talk is that?

SAILOR:

(laughs)

What it says on the bumper sticker

up front. On that pickup.

LULA:

That’s disgustin’. Those kinda

sentiments shouldn’t be allowed out

in public. Is this Biloxi yet?

SAILOR:

Almost. I figure we should find us

a place to stay and then go eat.

LULA:

Got anyplace special in mind?

SAILOR:

We oughta stay somewhere outta the

way. Not in no Holidays or Ramadas

or Motel Six. If Johnnie Farragut’s

on our trail he’ll check those first.

66A. EXT. THUNDERBIRD/EXT. THE HOST OF THE OLD SOUTH HOTEL - DAY

They pass the Biloxi City Limit sign.

LULA:

How about that one? The Host of

the Old South Hotel.

SAILOR:

Looks more like the Ghost of the

Old South, but we’ll try her.

CUT TO:

67. INT. THE HOST OF THE OLD SOUTH HOTEL - EVENING

The room is large but cheap. Lula strips off the dishwater grey

bedspread and tosses it over by the bureau. Sailor looks out the broken

window.

LULA:

I H-A-T-E hotel bedspreads. They

don’t hardly never get washed, and

I don’t like the idea of lyin’ on

other people’s dirt.

SAILOR:

Come look at this.

LULA:

(going to the window)

What’s that, honey?

SAILOR:

(thinking about death)

There ain’t no water in the swimmin’

pool. Just a dead tree fell in,

prob’ly from bein’ struck by lightnin’.

LULA:

(thinking about granddad)

It’s huge. This musta been a grand

old place at one time.

SAILOR:

Let’s get fed, sweetheart. The

light’s fadin’ fast.

CUT TO:

68. EXT. ROADSIDE PAYPHONE - NIGHT

Marcello Santos is making a phone call.

SANTOS:

Hello there, Mr. Reindeer...

Marcello Santos speaking.

CUT TO:

69. INT. MR. REINDEER’S POSH NEW ORLEANS RESIDENCE - NIGHT

An old man, MR. REINDEER, wearing a tuxedo is sitting on the toilet -

his pants down - talking on the bathroom phone. He laughs a long deep

smoker’s laugh.

MR. REINDEER

(laughing)

Mr. Marcello Santos... Hey there...

That was great sh*t you sent in last

month...

CUT TO:

68A. EXT. ROADSIDE PAYPHONE - NIGHT

SANTOS:

I gotta problem... In fact, I gotta

coupl’a problems...

CUT TO:

69A. INT. MR. REINDEER’S POSH NEW ORLEANS RESIDENCE - NIGHT

MR. REINDEER

(laughs again)

Gotta coupl’a problems, huh?... For

each problem drop a silver dollar

through my mail slot... With all

particulars... We’ll work out

“il conto” later...

CUT TO:

70. INT. JOHNNIE FARRAGUT’S MAROON ’69 BUICK - NIGHT

Johnnie Farragut steers the Buick down the dark highway past a sign

which reads, “NEW ORLEANS - 26 MILES”.

CUT TO:

71. EXT. BEACH - NIGHT

Sailor and Lula are walking along the beach. Lula takes off her shoes.

LULA:

(sing-song spells)

M-i-ss-i-ss-i-pp-i... You can almost

hear that jazz blowin’ up from the

big N.O.

SAILOR:

Lula... I learned somethin’ interestin’

today on a science show I heard on the

radio... How leeches is comin’ back

into style.

LULA:

Say what? Honestly, sugar, you can

talk more sh*t sometimes?

She takes out a cigarette the length and width of a Dixon Ticonderoga

No. 2 pencil and lights it.

SAILOR:

Got you a pack of Mores again, huh?

LULA:

Yeah, it’s a real problem for me,

Sailor, you know? When I went in

that drugstore by the restaurant in

Biloxi? I saw ’em by the register

and the girl throw ’em in. I’m

not big on resistin’. So what about

a leech?

SAILOR:

Heard on the radio how doctors is

usin’ leeches again, just in old

times. You know, when even barbers

used ’em?

LULA:

(shuddering)

I got one on me at Lake Lanier.

Lifeguard poured salt on it and it

dropped off. Felt awful. He was a

cute boy, though, so it was almost

worth it.

Sailor laughs.

SAILOR:

Yeah, well listen to this... Radio

said back in the 1920s a I-talian

doctor figured out that if, say, a

fella got his nose cut off or bit

off in, say, a barfight or somethin’,

they’d sew one of his forearms to his

nose for a few weeks... Then put

leeches on it.

CUT TO:

71A. CU of MAN with forearm sewed to nose.

CUT TO:

72. EXT. BEACH - NIGHT

LULA:

Sailor? You expect me to believe

a man’d be goin’ around with a

arm sewed to his nose?

SAILOR:

(nodding)

How they used to do it. Course they

got more sophisticated ways now.

Radio said the Chinese, I think it

is, figured a better idea is by

insertin’ a balloon in the forehead

and lettin’ it hand down on the nose.

Lula shrieks.

LULA:

Sailor Ripley! You stop! You’re

makin’ this sh*t up and I ain’t

gonna sit for it!

SAILOR:

Honest, Lula. I prob’ly ain’t

precisely got all the facts straight,

but it’s about what they said.

LULA:

Honey, we’re goin’ to bed now and

it’s time to change the subject.

She’s so cute Sailor just has to kiss her.

DISSOLVE TO:

73. INT. THUNDERBIRD - SOUTHERN HIGHWAY - DAY

Sailor and Lula pass a sign that reads “NEW ORLEANS - 26 MILES”. Sailor

pulls off the road into a Gulf gas station mini-mart and stops the car

next to a self-serve pump. A sign on the top of it says “PLEASE PAY

INSIDE BEFORE FUELING.”

SAILOR:

We’re about dry bones, sweetheart.

We don’t wanna have to push this

“bird” into New Orleans.

LULA:

We sure don’t, honey...

(shouting to Sailor as

he goes into the store)

Get me a Mounds?

74. INT. MINI-MART - DAY

A tall OLD BLACK MAN about seventy years old, wearing a torn green

Tulane tee-shirt and a dirty orange Saints baseball cap, is filing items

on the counter by the cash register. In the pile are four ready-made,

plastic-wrapped sandwiches, two tuna salad and two cotto salami; six

Twinkies; a package of Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies; four Slice

colas; two Barq’s root beers; and a large package of fried pork rinds,

extra salted.

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